"Project Earth": An Alien conquest story (closed)

[HumanBean]

"Project Earth"

An Alien Conquest Story

(closed)

Link to the OOC thread
(please do not post anything
in the OOC except profiles)​

9 April 2035:

Human Beings had long wondered if they were alone in the universe. That question was answered at 0400 hours local time when an alien spacecraft suddenly appeared in stationary orbit high above New York City. The nearly 2 mile long "Mothership" almost immediately began dispersing "Battlecraft", each of which was over 500 yards long and 300 yards across at the widest.

https://i.imgur.com/OVpX9ap.jpeg​

The 10 Battlecraft would take up stationary orbits above capital cities around the world: Washington DC, London, Paris, Moscow, Beijing, New Delhi, Islamabad, Pyongyang, Jerusalem, and Tehran. It didn't take a genius to recognize that each of these cities was the capital of a current or wannabe nuclear power.

Israel, of course, had been denying for decades that it possessed nukes. At the same time, though, it leaked intelligence that it in fact did possess the bomb. Many believed this to be the only reason the Jewish State still existed.

Iran had been attempting to build the bomb for decades. Most in the West believed they hadn't accomplished it yet. Still, there was an alien spacecraft parked above the country's capital now. That made people in The West wonder.

It would only take only 12 hours for the Battlecraft to get into their stationary orbits above the capital cities. By that time, the vast majority of Earth's Human population would know that they were being visited by an alien race...

 

[HumanBean]

The White House
Washington DC
4:28am local time:

Benjamin "Benny" Cooper arrived at the Residence just 11 minutes after his Senior Aide awoke him with the news of the object in orbit over New York City. By the time he reached the bedroom door of his boss, President Wiler, Space Command had already determined that one of the Battlecraft was moving in the direction of DC.

Benny knocked lightly on POTUS's door and waited for the familiar grunt. He entered after announcing himself, covering half the distance to Wiler's bed before stopping and waiting. The lamp on the table near the bed flicked on, revealing not only President Wiler but the woman lying in bed with him. It wasn't Wiler's wife, who at this moment was in Geneva speaking at an international aid to war victims conference.

"Sir, you need to get up and get dressed," Benny said without any surprise or shock about POTUS's bedmate. He knew all about Jenny. As did the Secret Service agents who'd quietly gotten her here and would now quietly get her out, too. Benny continued, "Something's happened."

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​

6:30 am:

By the time the sun rose over DC, the US government and military were working feverishly in response to the craft, plural, now spreading out in orbit above Earth. Half of them had settled into position while the other half were still moving. Space Force had extrapolated the Battlecraft's courses and possible destinations.

One of the National Security Council's military members began, "We believe they are positioning themselves over the capital cities of--

"Nuclear powers, yes, I see that," Wiler cut in. "Take us to DefCon 1, General."

The defense condition that determined the US's readiness for nuclear conflict had begun the morning at DefCon 3. That level had been the result of recent provocations from China and Russia both. The former hadn't liked the way the US boarded a North Korean cargo ship in international waters and, in turn, had done the same for half a dozen US flags cargo ships. The latter had struck at US positions inside Ukraine less than 24 hours after Wiler had committed American forces to the former Soviet Republic's defense.

"What exactly are we targeting," one of Wiler's less supportive staff members asked. The man looked to the Air Force General in charge of Space Command and asked, "I mean, are your missiles capable of being diverted to hit these spaceships?"

He looked back to the President, continuing, "And if they are, do we really think that shooting nukes at ET is really a good idea? I mean, these people are obviously more technologically advanced--"

Wiler waved the man to shut up, then looked to that same General. "He raises a good point. The purpose of going to DefCon 1 is to launch our missiles."

Another hour or more of conversations of imminent action were constantly interrupted by new reports. The ultimate destinations of the Battlecraft had been confirmed based upon available data. Reports of troops, ship, and aircraft movements from belligerents to America were extensive and being mapped. All US forces were now activated and standing by.

The question now was simple: what were they all standing by for?

A couple of Space Force officers were excitedly talking off to one side. Wiler called to them, "What's happening? Talk to me!"

"Mister President," the Space Force Commander said as he approached POTUS with a sheet of paper. He offered it out, saying, "We have been following the course of one of the Battlecraft--"

"Battlecraft?" Wiler cut in. "Are we really going with that term." He looked around for some support for another term. He didn't find it, though. The others had come to like the term, so he was stuck with it. He looked to the paper, asking, "What of it, this Battlecraft?"

"Its course would indicate a different destination than previously believed," General Whiting explained. "Unlike the other ... smaller ships..."

"No, that's okay," Wiler told him. "Battlecraft works. Continue."

"Each of the other Battlecraft have or seem to be settling in over the capital of a nuclear capable country," Whiting continued. "They have maintained the same altitude above earth as the Mothership, and their course and speeds have remained consistent, at least for those still moving toward--"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Wiler interrupted. "And what about this one?"

"This one, Mister President," the General said as he gestured the President's attention to a big display on the wall. It indicated the present position of the Battlecraft, the path that it had taken thus far from the Mothership, and its current but ever-changing course and speed. Whiting continued, "We don't believe that it is heading for a city."

At the far end of the display was another icon, one that Wiler knew well. He said with an anxious tone, "Is that the International Space Station?"

"Yes, sir," the General confirmed. "The Battlecraft's changing course and speed, if maintained, will put it within just hundreds of yards of the ISS, Mister President."

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The International Space Station:

The crew of the International Space Station was, of course, following the situation takin place in the space that they'd had all to themselves since the departure of the last descent module. The current Human makeup of space dwellers was 4 Americans, 2 Germans, 2 Russians, and one each Japanese, French, Indian, Canadian, and Swedish astronaut on board. The 13 astronauts tied the record for the largest crew of the ISS set in 2009.

Ground control had ordered the immediate preparation of the descent modules for escape from the ISS. But the 2 modules could only safely serve 5 astronauts each. A rocket launch bringing up a fresh pair of astronauts and a third descent module had been planned for a couple of days from now. That third module would have made it possible to retrieve all of the astronauts safely.

"Why are we talking about evacuating," American Astronaut Richard Phillips was again questioning. "The greatest event in the astronomical history of this planet since the dinosaurs got wiped out, and we're talking about missing it?"

The crew had been arguing over what was to be done since they'd first been alerted to the Mothership's presence. That conversation had led more of the ISS's occupants toward evacuating when they'd been told that a Battlecraft was heading their way.

"We're leaving," one of the Russian Cosmonauts declared. "We've been ordered to evacuate, and one of the modules is, of course, ours. So, we're out of here. Anyone coming?"

Most of the astronauts had been told by their respective countries that they had permission to leave the ISS. The determination of who did or didn't go was up to Ground Control, though. Even the two Russians couldn't leave unless the people in Houston permitted it.

 

[Alice2015]

The International Space Station

0938 hours Eastern Time Zone (1338 hrs GMT):

Dorothy Spencer had spent the morning shifting her attention between monitoring readings at a variety of stations, communicating with Ground Control, and looking out the ISS's windows. The station's current path of travel had been very fortunate for Dorothy and the other astronauts and cosmonauts.

Every 92.68 minutes -- 1 hour, 32 minutes, and 40.8 seconds -- the ISS completed an orbit of the Earth, and each orbit of the ISS caused it to pass over any chosen line of latitude -- say, for example, the 40th parallel north, on which New York City was situated -- as much as 1,250 miles more westerly than the last pass, depending upon which latitude it was at, of course.

The result was that with each pass, the ISS was getting a better and better view of the Mothership. Its first pass after the Mothership's arrival hadn't been very advantageous; they'd passed over Panama on their way toward the middle of the Atlantic, and even using the most powerful telescopic equipment aboard the ISS, the alien craft hadn't looked like much more than a bright reflection in the distance.

The last pass had gotten them a bit closer. After passing over the Yucatan Peninsula and the tip of Florida, the ISS had gotten within 1,500 miles of the Mothership as measured across the surface of Earth. However, the alien craft was also much higher than the ISS, so -- while the Mothership had begun taking shape -- the pictures still lacked detail. What the ISS crew did notice this pass was the reflections of the smaller ships beginning to spread in every direction from the Mothership.

Dorothy was torn by the use of the word Battlecraft to describe the smaller ships. The extraterrestrials and their ships hadn't been known to Humans long enough to already be thought of respectively as aggressive and weapons of war. Dorothy wanted to believe that maybe these visitors from a distant star were here with only peaceful intentions. She suspected that she would be in the minority until more evidence was gathered, but it was the only way she could imagine this first visit from a race from beyond this system.

The station's last past -- over Central Mexico and the US's Southern States, then over New Jersey's southern tip -- had gotten the crew close enough to take some better pictures of the Mothership, despite its much higher altitude above Earth when compared to the ISS's altitude of 250 miles.

(OOC: Battlecraft are already disengaged.) Ironically, this pass had offered the crew a much better view of a Battlecraft. One of them had been descending toward its ultimate destination, a geosynchronous orbit over Washington DC. That path had put it much lower than the Mothership and directly below the ISS as it passed. At Dorothy's chance of looking through the telescope, she couldn't help but think of the alien invasion movies she'd seen over the years and wonder whether this smaller vessel might better serve as a transport for aliens coming to DC with benevolent intentions or an attack vessel and troop carrier, designed to first level the country's capital, then insert hundred or even thousands of troops destined to annihilate any Human survivors.

"Three minutes," one of the other astronauts announced.

Dorothy pushed away from her monitors to position herself at the window through which she knew she'd get the best view of the Mothership. This current pass had taken the ISS over Baja California, the Plains States, the Midwest, and -- now, in another two minutes -- over New York, just a bit north of the Big Apple and practically directly under the Mothership.

"Why are we talking about evacuating," Dorothy's fellow American Astronaut Richard Phillips was questioning some of those advocating departure. "The greatest event in the astronomical history of this planet since the dinosaurs got wiped out, and we're talking about missing it?"

The crew continued arguing as Dorothy slipped up close to the window. Behind her, the Russian Cosmonauts were saying, "We're leaving. We've been ordered to evacuate, and one of the modules is, of course, ours. So, we're out of here. Anyone coming?"

"Dorothy?" her German counterpart, Hannah Wagner, called with a hopeful tone. "Gehst du?" When the American astronaut didn't answer, Hannah asked in the other woman's native tongue, "Are you leaving...? Or are you staying?"

"There she is," Dorothy said, sighting the Mothership. Most of the others who already weren't at windows or monitors fed by the ISS's external cameras moved to them. As the station moved quickly underneath the alien craft, Dorothy smiled. She mused, "Incredible ... just incredible."

There was silence as the ISS passed under the ship, then moved away. The distance was still too great for Dorothy's eyeball viewing to reveal much to her, but she knew that she could always review the pics and video later. She desperately wanted to see it with her own eyes on this pass, knowing that it would likely be the best viewing they'd get.

Leaving her catbird seat to look to the others, she smiled to Hannah, then the other two Americans, telling them, "I'm going nowhere. Not unless I'm ordered out of here."

"NASA has left it up to me," Richard told her. He was Mission Commander yet still looked to his three American counterparts and said, "But I'm leaving it up to you."

The other two American astronauts were quick to say they were leaving, as did one of the Germans and the representatives of Japan and India. That left 2 of the 4 Americans -- Dorothy and Richard -- Hannah, and the French and Swedish astronauts. They began preparations for separation of both descent modules, which would leave the remaining 5 astronauts without a way down to Earth in the case of an emergency or accident.

After announcing to Ground Control their decisions, nothing more was said about who was leaving and who was staying. Even though those in Houston didn't specifically say it, some of them were happy to continue to have people up in the ISS to witness what was taking place up there.

Of course, that wasn't the same with some of the friends and family of those who'd chosen to remain in orbit. Dorothy's parents used the NASA-provided communications system to talk with her from their home in Denver, telling her that they were afraid for her and preferred that she took one of the seats in the descent module. She told them she understood but couldn't do as they asked.

Hannah ran into a similar situation with her fiancée, Karl. It was much easier for her to deny his request, though; she'd learned a few days before flying to the US for the flight to the ISS that he'd been fucking a mutual friend of theirs. Rather than confront him about it then and, possibly, end up with the news becoming public, she'd decided to wait until she returned. For the last three weeks, she'd been toying with a variety of punishments, from simply chastising him to cutting his balls off. She was disappointed that that punishment would have to wait until a new descent module was sent up to the ISS for her return to Earth, but knowing that she was going to be here for this moment in history was worth the delay.

 

[HumanBean]

 Richard listened as his fellow astronauts made their decisions as to whether or not they were staying.

Dorothy wasn't a surprise to him. She'd always had a much more adventurous nature than the others. That was saying a lot seeing how each and everyone of them had volunteered to be shot into the vacuum of space on a rocket.

Hannah had been more of a surprise to him. The German had a fiancee down there about whom she'd spoken on multiple occasions during training. Richard had been too busy the last few weeks to have noticed that she'd stopped dropping his name once an hour.

Pierre Laurent didn't surprise Richard either. The man who'd welcomed the nickname Le Frog was a Héros de la République française. He was one of only a handful of living combat aces and the only one from France. On a single day during a flareup of the civil war in the Central African Republic, Pierre shot down 6 private military contractor fighter-bombers.

Rebel forces had paid the PMC millions of dollars in blood diamonds to attack United Nations forces guarding key roads to the country's capital city. Pierre's wingman had shot down one plane as well, before being shot down by a shoulder-mounted surface-to-air missile.

Pierre provided cover fire for the downed pilot, enabling him to slip away from the active combat zone and the rebel forces who'd been tasked with finding him. Pierre eventually ran so short of fuel that he had to put the plane down behind enemy lines. He joined up with his injured wingman, and together they spent six days slipping through enemy forces to safety.

As a last how do you do for the rebel forces, Pierre had left the grenade he always carried with him for luck inside the jet. Its pin had been pulled and the explosive wedged between the cockpit's wall and seat. As the rebels cheered at their capture of the valuable fighter, the grenade was jostled loose and boom.

The last male astronaut to volunteer to stick behind was Anders Nilsson. The Swede's decision to remain behind did surprise Richard. The man had a wife and four children, all girls, between the ages of 8 years and 8 months. Richard would have thought that the man would forsake anything that might keep him from returning safely to them.

And Richard wasn't entirely sure that nothing tragic would happen to any of them. What was unfolding around them was unprecedented and, honestly, potentially very dangerous. No one know what the aliens' intentions were. If they were here to conquer Earth, it seemed to Richard that the first Humans to be eliminated would be the ones in the tin can floating below them in low orbit.

Like Dorothy, Richard wanted to believe that there was nothing to fear. They'd find out soon enough. They couldn't know it yet, but the aliens had a message they'd begin delivering in just a few hours.

(OOC: Bedtime, so I left the next post and the Canadian to you. )

 

[Alice2015]

Joann Paul (profile)

Monday, April 9, 2035 -- 4am

She'd only just gotten to bed a few minutes earlier when her phone began vibrating its way across her lamp table; the current FBI investigation in which Joann was involved had her standing second shift surveillance over a bar frequented by members of a right-wing paramilitary group. Despite it having been Sunday night-Monday morning, they'd still been drinking and whooping it up until far after the local unenforced last call for bars and taverns.

She listened to the caller for a moment, then at a lull in the woman's explanation asked with a confused tone, "Did you say aliens...? Aliens! Not like illegally-crossing-the-border-and-working-in-a-chicken-cutting-facility aliens. You said alien aliens ... like ET."

Joann listened to the clarification, then asked sarcastically, "Whaddaya want me to do? Come down with my ray gun and Mars Attacks! them?" After a short recap of the orders, Joann grumbled, "Okay. Give me twenty minutes."

It was actually closer to 30 minutes before she walked into the Denver, Colorado, office, finding it abuzz with the full staff and even people -- civilians and law enforcement both -- who Joann had never seen before. On a large screen television in one of the conference rooms, the story of the alien spaceship was playing live. Joann checked in with her boss, then headed for the already packed conference room to listen to the story.

"--the spacecraft, which Authorities say is massive, possibly between a half of a mile in length to as much as two miles in length," the reporter was saying, "is currently over the Tri-State area--"

The talking head in the studio cut in to clarify, "New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut."

"Yes, exactly," the reporter continued, clarifying, "One official says the spacecraft could possibly be directly over New York City itself, but as its height, its altitude, above Earth is in the hundreds, possibly thousands of miles -- much higher than the 250 miles at which the International Space Station orbits Earth, for example..."

The mention of the ISS captured Joann's full attention, and she ceased listening to the rambling reporter. Joann's wife, Dorothy Spencer, was currently aboard the International Space Station, which meant that she was up there with the aliens. Pulling out her cell and heading for a hallway where she hoped to have both a signal and relative quiet, Joann called the phone number that was the most direct line that she had to her wife; oh, it wasn't as though Joann could just dial Dorothy up, but the person on the other end of the call did have to ability to connect the call through the NASA communications if protocol offered the opportunity at that moment.

All Joann got, though, was an unanswered ringing. She didn't know whether that meant there was a serious problem or that there simply wasn't anyone available to complete the connection. Returning to the office, Joann found her SAC -- Special Agent in Charge -- and asked, "So, why am I here after just an hour of sleep?"

"Shit like this always brings out the kooks," her boss told her, reminding Joann, "And you've been monitoring some of the kookiest kooks that Colorado has to offer. I want you to check in with the third shift team and see if there's anything you can offer them."

Joann couldn't believe that she was being sent right back out to monitor the group after her 18th straight day without a break of doing so. But she did as ordered, parking near the surveillance van, checking in, then lying down in the backseat of her sedan to once again try to get some shuteye.

Less than an hour later, though, while darkness still reigned over the area, the world around her erupted in mayhem. The fanatics -- who had known of its proximity for days -- had come at the surveillance van from all sides with automatic weapons and shotguns, filling it and two of the three Agents inside with holes.

Joann had remained hidden in her sedan until she saw an opportunity to get involved without getting dead; she slipped out of the protected side of her vehicle, retrieved an AR-15-style rifle from the trunk, and -- in 3-shot mode -- took down six of the raiders before the others scattered into the night. Within minutes, backup arrived in the form of City Police, County Sheriff Deputies, and eventually more FBI Agents.

Joann was going to busy all day with aspects of the shooting, during which she would continue unsuccessfully to make contact with her wife. All she could do for now it seemed was listen to the news, like the vast majority of people in the country ... and in the world.

 

[HumanBean]

Kyle Rogers (profile)

The Hellraisers' Gun Club
Outside Denver, Colorado
Sunday, April 8, 2035 -- 11pm

Kyle raised his M16, sighted on the target, and squeezed the trigger. In just seconds, the contents of the 30-round clip were expended. The thunderous explosions were accompanied by the bell dinging sound of the empty cartridges bouncing off the wall to his right and then down upon the concrete beneath his feet.

The men and women with Kyle whooped and hollered. They were impressed with the results. From 100 feet, Kyle put every round within the 3-foot diameter target. Hitting a target at that distance one round at a time was something Kyle's 8-year-old daughter was capable of. But even the best users of such a rifle on full auto often had trouble handling it through an entire magazine. It was why most M-16 owners shot it on semi-auto or three-round burst mode.

"They're out there again," one of his friends said after stepping up to him. Kyle handed the weapon off to his girlfriend. "Clean that for me, baby, okay?"

She smiled, kissed him, and purred, "Sure, baby."

Kyle walked with the man out of the shooting club. They crossed an empty lot and entered the tavern. The three properties (tavern, lot, shooting range) were all independently owned by members of The Hellraisers, Kyle's anti-government, anarchist club.

Handling the properties' titles in this way meant that if the local, state, or federal governments sent their goose-stepping jack boots in to close one down or, in the case of the empty lot, wall it off from use, the other two properties were clear from prosecution ... or persecution.

To further complicate the efforts of the authorities, the properties changed hands often, from one Hellraiser to another, sometimes even to a family member. Per local statutes, the new owner had 180 days to complete title transfers, so even if the Authorities could find the current owner on record, they'd likely find out that they were wrong. And to protect Kyle himself, none of the properties or any of the other 22 properties owned by the Club were in his name.

At the front of the tavern, a Club member handed his President a pair of night-vision goggles. He pointed down the block, saying, "Dark gray van, middle of the block, right side. Our right."

Kyle found the vehicle easily. The warmth of the people inside it made it stand out from the rest of the neighborhood that was currently enjoying 49-degree temperatures. This particular pair of goggles didn't allow Kyle to make out the people beyond the van's metal shell. But was sure there were at least two in there, as weas the FBI's protocols concerning stakeouts.

"Whaddaya wanna do about'em?" the man who'd retrieved him asked.

Kyle snort in derision at him. "Nothing! They can't come in here 'cause we're doing nothing wrong here. 'Cept maybe violating local code regarding closing time. Do you think the Feebs are going to waste their time with that?"

"What about the shooting range?" the man asked. "We've got automatic--"

"Those are my weapons," Kyle interrupted. "My Class 3 allows me to have them."

He was speaking about his Class 3 Federal Firearms License. It allowed Kyle to purchase, possess, and sell automatic weapons. There were a lot of restrictions regarding the purchases and sales, obviously. But Kyle stuck to them religiously.

"Keep an eye on them," Kyle told the man, "and get me one of the better night-vision scopes. I want to be able to see inside that van."

"Yes, sir," the man said, gesturing another man to deal with the second part of that order.

Kyle headed back into the tavern for a draft beer. He took the hand of one of the club's Slits and led her to his office in the back. There, she gave him a blowjob before letting him take her at her backdoor. Exhausted, he dropped onto the couch for a recuperative nap.

"You want me to stay?" she asked as she slipped her undergarments back on. She added, "Keep you warm?"

"No, your husband's probably wondering where you are," Kyle said. He gestured toward the Bible sitting atop a nearby lamp table.

She laughed. Kyle had made eye contact with her husband out at the bar even as he was taking her hand to come back here. Her husband had known what his wife was about to do. He hadn't been about to object. She went to the Bible, opened it, and withdrew a hundred in twenties before heading out.

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Kyle awoke to a firm knock on the office door. As he was blinking his eyes open, his girlfriend came in. She gave him a knowing look as she sat on the edge of the couch. She leaned over, sniffing deeply at him. She smelled sex, but said nothing about it.

"You need to see this," she said. She'd picked up the TV remote and now turned the unit on. A reporter in the field was saying, "--the spacecraft, which Authorities say is massive, possibly between a half of a mile in length to as much as two miles in length," the reporter was saying, "is currently over the Tri-State area--"

The anchor in the station filled in, "New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut."

"What the fuck are they talking about?" Kyle asked the woman as the anchor and reporter continued.

"Fucking ET is here," she said. As he listened, she filled in what she knew in between talking news folk. "People are really freaking out about this, Kyle."

"Quiet," he commanded. She continued to ramble periodically, antagonizing him. Roughly, he pushed her off the couch. She landed on her ass, cursing him. He turned her way, raised his ass from the couch, and pulled his pants down to his knees. "You want something to do with that mouth of yours, I'll give you something to do."

She knew better than to refuse Kyle. As he increased the volume and watched with great interest, she went to work on his cock as the other woman had done earlier. Despite him having used a condom to butt-fuck the Slit, she still smelled ass. It was gross, but that was her life.

The news program began repeating, and Kyle had had enough of both it and the unsuccessful oral sex. He turned his girl around over the coffee table, pushed her skirt up and her panties down, and fucked her until he came for the third time in as many hours.

When done and again dressed, Kyle returned to the bar area of the tavern. There was still almost a dozen men there. He told them as he headed for the back entrance, "Let's go."

At the gun range, Kyle retrieved one of the automatic M-16's that wasn't registered to him. Each of the other men armed themselves with equally anonymous weapons from the hidden locker. After a strategy session, one of the men asked, "Why now?"

Kyle looked at him curiously. "Why not?"

"I just mean," the guy said tentatively, "We've been planning an attack for months, years even. Why now, with the aliens about to come down here and conquer Earth. Won't they kill all these Jack Boot mother fuckers."

"Probably," Kyle answered. Then, he smiled wide. "But before ET kills'em all, don't you want to take a couple of them for yourself?"

A couple of minutes later, upon a whistle from Kyle, all of his men opened up on the van. The night exploded in gunfire, making Kyle think about his time in Syrian and Iraqi warzones as a Marine. The van became so full of holes that street and building lights on either side of it shown through, illuminating the dust, debris, and smoke surrounding it.

Kyle hadn't actually fired on the vehicle. He'd stood back to let the boys have their fun. That was probably why he survived the night. From somewhere in the darkness, a rifle on three-round burst began firing. Kyle saw one of his men hit the ground, then another, then another.

He ran for cover, searching for the source of the shots. He never found it. Eventually, his own men's firing ceased. They'd realized that they were being picked off. The survivors fled in every direction, some carrying their weapons, some not.

For his part, Kyle took off, too. He wasn't about to get caught, tried, sentenced, and hung or stuck with a needle. As he disappeared into the night, he heard the sirens of police cars then saw the red and blue of their lights as they got closer. He got away.

 

[HumanBean]

International Space Station:

Mission Commander Richard Phillips sat with the other 5 astronauts staring at a monitor. On it was a visual message that reminded them of a gif, repeating again and again and again without end. In the gif, a small craft emerged from the Battlecraft, came to the ISS, and docked at one of the module connections. Then, stick figures (obviously the astronauts) entered the craft. After that, the craft left the ISS and returned to the Battlecraft. There, the crew exited into a room.

That was about it. Simple.

The discussion with Mission Control over whether or not the astronauts were going to do this was animated, to pick a word. A decision became more urgent when the shuttle began its slow trek from the Battlecraft to the ISS. Through viewing ports and cameras, the crew (and Mission Control) watched as a 3D-printer-like portion of the shuttle worked to create a docking port that would match with the ISS's port. It took almost 6 hours. Eventually, it connected.

The gif changed to show the crew opening the inner airlock and stepping into the shuttle. Again, the astronauts and Mission Control discussed and discussed, weighing the pros and cons. But there didn't seem to be any other option. Without a descent module, what other choice did the astronauts have?

They ensured that the atmosphere in the shuttle was appropriate, opened the hatch, and transferred, closing the hatches. A couple of minutes later, they were on their way.

 

[Alice2015]

International Space Station:

Olivia Baker (profile) was mesmerized by what she and the others were seeing on the monitor. She hadn't known what kind of communications of which they might partake, if at all. But a Pictionary gif wasn't at all what she'd expected. The discussion about what to do next was as animated as the message, but in the end, they went with the only possible option: do as the aliens were ... asking?

"All around full checkups and immunizations," Olivia suggested once the choice was certain. As the crew's medical officer, she had a level of authority when it came to such things. She looked to the Mission Commander, saying, "Richard, you first."

She spent an hour taking vitals and samples, as well as giving preventative immunizations. Really, except for the shots, it wasn't that different from what she did on a normal basis. Most people down on the planet has no idea how intensely the astronauts' physical fitness and health were monitored. The average resident of the ISS spent two hours a day just exercising, mostly to prevent wasting caused by the low gravity.

After the checkups were completed, Olivia continued to monitor her fellow astronauts' blood pressures and pulses as they watched the alien shuttle slowly approaching them. For most of the last hour, Hannah Wagner (profile) had hardly left the window looking directly out upon the Battlecraft and the approaching vehicle that they'd decided to call a shuttle. As it got close enough to visually inspect, she began to get concerned.

"Hey, guys, we have a problem," she told them. Waiting for the others to find their own windows or station themselves in front of one of the monitors showing the camera views, she pointed out what some of them were seeing. "The CBM ... it ... well, it doesn't have one. I don't know what I was expecting, but ... this isn't it."

By CBM, Hannah meant the Common Berthing Mechanism, the machinery by which modules connected to one another on the ISS. She'd thought that maybe the aliens had had some sort of details -- intelligence you might call it -- on how the different pieces of the station, descent modules, etc., connected together. But looking at the leading portion of the approaching alien shuttle, she saw nothing even close to a CBM.

The Mission Commander was back on the line with Mission Control again, discussing the situation. The greatest fear the crew and those supporting them from down on the planet was, of course, some sort of decompression; without a perfect latching between the alien shuttle and the ISS, oxygen would quickly leak out into space, killing the astronauts via hypoxia or decompression.

Over the last several hours -- ever since the Humans had come to understand that the aliens were inviting them to their Battlecraft and, presumably, their Mothership after that -- Mission Control had been trying to send messages to the aliens as the aliens had been to them. They'd created simply computer graphics and broadcasted them in the hopes that the aliens would interpret them correctly; the main message being sent up to the Mothership was the Humans' preference that their people remain on the ISS, a message that apparently hadn't been understood or had been ignored.

The alien shuttle slowed to barely a crawl before coming into soft contact with the locking mechanism. It remained against it for several minutes before them backing away a few inches. Then, the point at which the two craft had come together began ... mutating. It took several minutes for Hannah to realize what was happening.

"It's a 3D printer," she told them. She literally pressed her forehead to the glass for a better view. "Yeah ... yes! It's ... building itself!" She watched a moment, saying, "It's ... not building itself so much ... as it's reducing itself. It's creating a CBM."

They watched for almost an hour as a proper locking mechanism was created. Once the shuttle had finished, the vehicle again moved forward until it came into contact with the ISS. Inside, they heard the familiar locking sounds; the lights on the bulkhead changed to indicate a proper lock. A moment later, they heard the door of the shuttle opening, and lights in the ISS indicated that there was atmosphere in the shuttle.

"Incredible," Hannah murmured, amazed. Richard checked that the connection was in fact secure, and Olivia checked readings that told them the pressure and atmosphere in the shuttle was suitable for them. Hannah looked to Richard, suggesting, "Might it be better if all but one of us moved to the other module and secured the lock between the two ... you know ... before we just opened the door?"

 

[HumanBean]

The White House Bunker
Washington DC

Day 3 (11 April 2035), 7:28am:

Benny Cooper stood in the corner of the bunker, watching in quiet as world events unfolded before him. It had been just a little more than 50 hours since the aliens had arrived in orbit of Earth. Everything that could possibly change had.

There were riots and looting in every US State and in most other nations. The response to this mayhem varied. In some places, martial law had been declared. In others, not so much.

The irony continued to war zones, too. There were parts of the world where people had been killing each other for years, even decades, but now had set their guns aside. The reasons for this varied as much as did the particular reasons for conflict.

International reaction to the aliens had varied, too. Here in the US, the defense condition had been reduced back down to DefCon 3. President Robert Wiler had never feared an attack from either Russia or China and had only raised the condition to DefCon 1 out of an abundance of caution. But he'd spoken to the leaders of both nations. He'd reassured them both that the US had no intentions of letting this extraordinary situation lead to war between the nations.

There were still concerns about those two superpowers, though. Russian forces in Eastern Ukraine were still attacking Ukrainian forces. And just yesterday, a Russian missile had struck a combined Ukrainian/US base, killing 6 Americans and 32 others. The Russian President had called President Wiler to tell him that it had not been an intentional attack on US forces. But intercepts by the NSA said differently. Still, Wiler was holding back on escalation until he knew what was happening in the space above both nations.

China was not just a continuing but growing issue, even though its actions had little to nothing to do directly with the US. Within 24 hours of the Mothership's discovery, more than 150,000 Chinese troops and supporting armor and aircraft were moving westward.

They already had or soon would be crossing borders into Mongolia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Pakistan. Some of those borders were already disputed, some of them for many decades. But the troop movements weren't about settling border disputes. President Wiler and his Security Council knew it was simply about taking land and the resources on or under them.

At the moment, though, the primary issue at hand was the International Space Station. Six astronauts, 2 of them Americans, were in an alien shuttle heading from the ISS to one of the 11 Battlecraft. Everyone feared for their lives, of course. But the question remained: were they being taken hostage or invited for a visit?

"They're inside, Mister President," one of the officers announced.

All eyes turned to one of the big monitors on the wall. A picture from a spaceborne telescope showed the bottom of the Battlecraft. The satellite supporting the telescope had been retasked to provide the better view. It had been a subject of debate at the time. The retasking would ultimately result in the satellite's uncontrollable descent into Earth's atmosphere and destruction.

The result, though, was spectacular. The telescope was looking right up into what all concerned were calling a shuttle bay. Benny thought it was so Star Trekky. As the three dozen men and women watched, the shuttle with the astronauts aboard moved slowly inside. The sun shining on it was interrupted. Lights inside the shuttle bay illuminated it for several more minutes. Then, finally, large doors slid into place. It took several minutes for the doors to fully close.

"Now what?" President Wiler asked. He was speaking to anyone in particular. Ironically, the normally very talkative assembly of politicians and military personnel just stood there in silence. Wiler looked down one side of the big table, then up the other. Suddenly, he slammed his opened hand down on the table, crying out, "Now what?"

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​

Inside the Battlecraft's shuttle bay:

Mission Commander Richard Phillips looked around the shuttle's interior. The entirety of the craft had been 3D printed according to Hannah Wagner. From the seats to the belt buckles to the ... well, there really wasn't much more. The shuttle was just seats and shell. No windows, no gauges, no controls.

It had been created specifically to get the astronauts from the ISS to the Battlecraft. There had been enough room to safely serve as many as 20 Humans. The ISS had had 13 upon the Mothership's arrival. Richard had little doubt that the aliens had begun creating the shuttle before the two descent modules took 7 of the station's crew back to Earth. Will they be disappointed? he'd asked himself several times, adding, Disappointed enough to take action against those of us who did stay behind?

The astronauts had spent varying lengths of time on the ISS. Some had been in space for more than 3 months, others just 2, and 2 others for only 6 days before the aliens appeared. Regardless of this, they's all been in what amounted to Zero G during their time in space.

Now, though, as the shuttle entered the bay, they began to feel the pull of gravity. Richard looked to the team's doctor, asking, "Olivia, you feel that?"

Slowly, gravity increased enough to hold the six astronauts firmly to their seats. The shuttle shook a bit as (unknown to the Humans) it settled into retaining locks. On a flat section of wall acting as a monitor, another gif began repeating. This one showed sitting human stickmen standing up. A big red "X" flashed over this image. Next to that gif, though, a picture of stickmen remaining in their seats was greeted with a flashing green circle around it.

"I think these guys have a future working for Ikea," the Swede, Anders Nilsson, quipped. Pictograph instructions common with the Sweden-based company had been a favorite joke amongst the current crew after Anders' arrival.

The gravity increased slowly. The sometimes-wild, longer hair of mostly Dorothy and Olivia began settling back down onto their shoulders. Just about the time gravity had reached what they all agreed was about 50%, Pierre suddenly leaned forward, spread his feet, and puked. It wasn't the first time he'd unloaded his stomach before his crewmates. He'd gotten sick while their ascent module had been waiting to dock with the ISS, too.

After a half dozen convulsions, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, looked up, and smiled. He joked, "At least this time it isn't floating around the capsule for ya'll to enjoy."

Other than the change in gravity, the only other change had been in pressure and temperature of the shuttle's air. Richard ventured, "I think maybe they're fine tuning for us. Thoughts?"

Finally, after almost two hours, the hatch through which they'd originally entered the shuttle opened. The gif on the wall changed. The red "X" over the standing stickman disappeared and a green circle replaced it. Richard immediately said, "Stay put."

He unbuckled, rose, steadied himself in the gravity, and moved to the hatch. He was a tall man, the tallest of the current crew. He hadn't had to duck to enter the shuttle but did now to exit it. There were steps outside the shuttle's hatch. He took a step forward, looked about, took another step, looked about, and finally was standing tall outside the little craft.

The shuttle bay was large, just a bit shorter and narrower than an American football field. He looked up. The overhead was some 50 feet high but filled with pipes, conduits, ducts, and more. It reminded him of the aircraft bays of the carrier he'd served on while a US Naval Aviator.

Richard descended the four steps to the deck. It was painted metal. Looking around, he saw lots of metal. He saw nothing that was conspicuously plastic, glass, or any sort of fiber. Also absent was any sign of living beings. There were a variety of robotic machines. They ranged from canister vacuum cleaner shape and size to wheeled machines the size of a Zamboni with working appendages.

Most of what Richard saw didn't concern him in anyway. Except the fighters. At least, that was what they looked like to him. They were smaller versions of the Battlecraft, perhaps 70 feet long and 30 feet wide at the tail end. Each was locked into a sort of rack along the two long walls, stacking them like bunk beds. In all, there were 16 of them.

"Well?" Pierre called anxiously from inside the shuttle. "Can we take a look, Skipper?"

Richard looked back into the shuttle. He could see each of the others. They were watching him eagerly. Most had already unbuckled, and some were standing, testing out their legs. He smiled and curled a finger invitingly to them.

 

[Alice2015]

Day 3 (11 April 2035):

Inside the Battlecraft's shuttle bay:

Hannah Wagner (profile) didn't mean to laugh when Pierre Laurent emptied his stomach onto the shuttle's deck, but -- as he was about to remind them all -- this wasn't his first time puking at the effects of gravitational changes. After that bit of excitement, she returned her attention to the shuttle itself. Her knowledge of 3D Printing told her that this vehicle was a product of that science.

It pleased her greatly to see something as large and complex as a spacecraft -- even a small one -- built almost entirely via 3D technology. Her education and subsequent field work had focused on the tech and on how it might one day be used to build stations in orbit of or bases upon planetary bodies beyond Earth, including the Moon, Mar, and a handful of moons around Jupiter or Saturn.

The thinking was that 3D printing systems could be launched to these locations to build the facilities that would be needed to house future astronauts. It was pie in the sky thinking with regards to the more distant, gas giant moons, but similar tech had already been used on the Moon and was already planned for the 2040 manned mission to Mars.

As Hannah was thinking about using 3D printing on Mars, Dorothy Spencer (profile) was wondering whether or not Mars was still on the schedule of space exploration for Humans. The arrival of an alien race at one's home planet had a tendency of making one wonder about the future, not just of space travel but of all things. Dorothy still believed that the visitors from another star system were here with peaceful intentions, of course; one only had to look at how they were being so carefully handled now to believe that. If the aliens had ill intentions towards the human race, they could have simply blown the ISS into little pieces.

At one point -- it was as they entered the Battlecraft, not that the Human could see that from within a windowless spacecraft -- they began to experience the downward tug of gravity. Richard asked, "Olivia, you feel that?"

"Yes, I did ... do," the Mission's Medical Doctor responded. (profile) Her long, soft, wavy hair had a tendency of wafting all about her hair when she otherwise didn't have it restrained by braids, ponytails, or hair ties. Over the next few minutes, it would end up lowering until it was lying entirely on her shoulders for the first time in weeks. "How are they doing this? We've seen no indications of them using centripetal force to produce artificial gravity. Could they really have figured out how to produce gravitational attraction on a static vessel or platform?"

What she was suggesting was absolutely impossible, and yet it was happening, here and now. She wondered, What other miracles of science are we going to witness in the hours and day ahead?

As they waited for whatever was to come next, it became obvious that the atmosphere around them was being altered; Dorothy, Hannah, and Olivia could feel the changes in temperature, pressure, and even humidity, as certainly did the men. Richard suggested, "I think maybe they're fine tuning for us. Thoughts?"

"I just wonder how they know us so well," Olivia mused. The Doctor posed the question, "Do you think they are simply quick and figuring this out as they go along ... studying us at this very moment and coming to conclusions...? Or have they been watching us for years ... centuries ... millennia?"

Eventually, the shuttle's hatch opened, and -- after telling the others, "Stay put" -- Richard ventured outside. One by one, the curious astronauts unbuckled and stood, desperate to test out their legs in the faux gravity. Pierre Laurent asked impatiently, "Well? Can we take a look, Skipper?"

Richard motioned them outside; they didn't have to be asked twice, with all five of them hurrying for and out the door, following their boss down the steps. They spent a couple of minutes just admiring what they saw around them. In some ways, it didn't look much different than a 21st century -- or even 20th century -- aircraft carrier's bay. But in others -- particularly when looking at what they would all come to believe were some sort of fighter-bomber -- it looked very much like something that was centuries or, most likely, millennia beyond Earth in technology.

"Look, there," Dorothy said, pointing toward the end wall of the shuttle bay where illuminated spots on the floor about two feet in diameter were flashing slowly and softly. In front of each spot was a small man-door; there were actually 12 doors in all -- one less than there originally had been ISS astronauts -- but only six of them had a flashing light before them. Dorothy said, "Six of us ... six of them."

She probably should have waited for the Mission Commander's direction, but she headed slowly that way on her own. She slowed when she reached the light, looking up for the light source; she saw nothing, which meant that the light was coming from under the deck itself. Dorothy looked around at the faces of the others, finding all sorts of emotions in them.

She stepped into the flashing spot, which caused the light to immediately disappear. One by one, the rest of the crew members stepped into their own circles, and when the last one had, the doors in front of each Human slid open, Star Trek bridge door style. This time, Dorothy looked to Richard for direction.