Sunday
March 12, 2015
Given that I don't exactly fall under any one government's jurisdiction, and the overseeing body that does watch my progress probably wouldn't even considering to dare piss me off (provided I continue to meet or exceed expectations), I've taken to fraternizing with the troops and crew more than I should. By this, I mean that I've apparently decided that it was worth my time to play some cards to kill the time. Sometimes I envy the science and engineering teams, they're at least constantly busy with "real" work.
Saturday
March 11, 2015
Nothing too interesting today. Dr. Shen is still gleefully cataloging the salvaged parts from the alien craft, while Dr. Vhalen continues to micromanage her team to death while researching the Arc Thrower. Coffee today is pretty good.
March 10, 2015
About damn time.
The alarm sounded at 7:29pm. A satellite picked up an alien craft over Japan. The Raven-1 Interceptor was scrambled immediately. Time to make things happen.
The interceptor engaged the craft and in the space of a few seconds, shots were volleyed and one craft one down. Over the com, "This is Voodoo 37, X-Ray 0 has been shot down; repeat, enemy craft has been terminated!" The floor roared with cheers. Score one for the home team. I let them have their celebration, and I'll make sure Voodoo 37 gets to pick the dinner in mess tomorrow.
My internal celebration came a few seconds later, "This is satellite surveillance Asia, we have located the craft, and we have confirmed sight of alien crew moving. Alien craft appears intact." The message repeated again, but hadn't even finished by the time I had given the order to scramble a ground crew. An intact spacecraft, a swarm of alien bad guys, and a ground squad that's been itching to earn their pay. It's play time.
I met the crew in the hanger of the drop and smacked Wright on the shoulder where he had been hit before. Not even a wince... nice. I shouted at them all over the whining of the turbines, "I want every piece of that alien tech you can carry home on your backs, and I want it intact. The aliens... this ain't catch and release at the pond - tear 'em up!" The team whooped and sprinted onto the craft as it started to take off. Roster: Wright, Marcantelli, A. Bradford, K. Jones. Poor alien bastards.
They hit the ground running at 8:23, running straight off of the dropship and into immediate cover. The smoke at the crash site was thick enough that there was no visual on the craft or any E.T.s. Bradford and Wright peeled the A.O. to the right, Jones and Marcantelli to the left. Within two sprints, Bradford had a bead on the craft. Sleek, silver, ready for plunder. About the same time, Jones and Marcantelli spot alien movement to the left of the craft, and quickly take firing positions from cover.
Before I can even register whose monitor it is I'm looking at, I see scrambling to cover, sliding behind a boulder and a rifle pound three rounds into an alien. First kill: ... Wright? Payback, indeed. Need to keep my eye on that guy. He turns to face Bradford, who has taken cover of her own nearby and flashes him a smile and a thumb's up. Good to see them bonding, they'll need it the further this goes on. Jones and Marcantelli continue to circle around the craft into good flanking cover.
Wright carefully takes to closer cover, which was unfortunately under overwatch by an alien. Wright takes a shot to the shoulder. Shit. He's grinding his teeth so loud I can hear it over his mic, but he raises his rifle, returns fire and blasts another alien into whatever heaven awaits them. Wright: 2, Rest of Squad: 0. Huh.
Wright calls out more alien movement from within the craft and hits his shoulder with the Medikit. Good man. Apparently, Dr. Vhalen sees something on the monitors that alarms her. "A being of pure energy! We'll need to find a way to take it alive to study!". I can see a ball of energy transform into a lanky humanoid on Wright's cam. Dr. Vhalen's scratching notes on her clipboard faster than most people could type them. Hopefully, she'll get her wish, but it won't be today... we don't have the tanks to hold these things yet. As if reading my mind, Bradford lunges forward and charges to the wall of the craft, nice and close to the energy being and smacks it with a shotgun blast to the head. Unfortunately, one of his Sectoid buddies takes advantage of her position and she takes a shot to the leg.
Wright moves to her, fires back at the alien and misses. Bradford gets a revenge shot and hits it square in the chest. It's obviously wounded, but it's still moving and takes better cover. It returns fire but goes wide.
Meanwhile, Jones and Marcantelli have finished circling the craft and take firing positions, shooting into the craft blindly. Neither seems to hit anything of value, but it's enough to distract the aliens. Bradford gets a second shot off on her alien buddy and finishes the job. Unsure of which direction to expect fire, the last remaining alien drops down behind some ship bulkhead. He picked the wrong direction to defend against. Marcantelli finds a perfect flanking position, charges, fires, kills.
The team take their time to ensure no aliens remain, and begin salvaging the ship, prioritizing anything still bleeping and blooping. When they return home, they're able to inventory a wholly intact alien flight computer. Dr. Shen's already got his hands all over it before I can get to the squad.
Medics are already all over Wright and A. Bradford. Wright can't stop apologizing for getting hit. I reassure him that he earned that wound for daring to take out three of the ugliest space slobs this side of Mars, and that he's earned whatever rest he has coming to him. He grins, because he knows it's expected to when the Old Man tells a joke, but I can see the hurt in his eyes... he's out of the game again.
Bradford... A. Bradford, that is, is making no attempt at humor. Her legs is tore up pretty bad and she's yelling cusses that even I've never heard. I shut her up with Corporal stripes. Despite her wound, she's got great tactical sense and knows how to use the area to her defense... anyone else taking the same wound would have likely taken it fatally. She's a leader, and I know it. Now I just need to keep her in the fight and pull the leadership out of her.
Marcantelli and Jones are both obviously exhausted, but keep looking to Wright and Bradford, knowing they could be worse. Neither says much and they both return to the barracks.
After marking some damaged hardware that Dr. Shen says we can't put to any use as 'salvage' and contacting our Grey Market liason to take it away, I note the time as 10:08pm. Most eventful two hours of my life.
The alarm sounded at 7:29pm. A satellite picked up an alien craft over Japan. The Raven-1 Interceptor was scrambled immediately. Time to make things happen.
The interceptor engaged the craft and in the space of a few seconds, shots were volleyed and one craft one down. Over the com, "This is Voodoo 37, X-Ray 0 has been shot down; repeat, enemy craft has been terminated!" The floor roared with cheers. Score one for the home team. I let them have their celebration, and I'll make sure Voodoo 37 gets to pick the dinner in mess tomorrow.
My internal celebration came a few seconds later, "This is satellite surveillance Asia, we have located the craft, and we have confirmed sight of alien crew moving. Alien craft appears intact." The message repeated again, but hadn't even finished by the time I had given the order to scramble a ground crew. An intact spacecraft, a swarm of alien bad guys, and a ground squad that's been itching to earn their pay. It's play time.
I met the crew in the hanger of the drop and smacked Wright on the shoulder where he had been hit before. Not even a wince... nice. I shouted at them all over the whining of the turbines, "I want every piece of that alien tech you can carry home on your backs, and I want it intact. The aliens... this ain't catch and release at the pond - tear 'em up!" The team whooped and sprinted onto the craft as it started to take off. Roster: Wright, Marcantelli, A. Bradford, K. Jones. Poor alien bastards.
They hit the ground running at 8:23, running straight off of the dropship and into immediate cover. The smoke at the crash site was thick enough that there was no visual on the craft or any E.T.s. Bradford and Wright peeled the A.O. to the right, Jones and Marcantelli to the left. Within two sprints, Bradford had a bead on the craft. Sleek, silver, ready for plunder. About the same time, Jones and Marcantelli spot alien movement to the left of the craft, and quickly take firing positions from cover.
Before I can even register whose monitor it is I'm looking at, I see scrambling to cover, sliding behind a boulder and a rifle pound three rounds into an alien. First kill: ... Wright? Payback, indeed. Need to keep my eye on that guy. He turns to face Bradford, who has taken cover of her own nearby and flashes him a smile and a thumb's up. Good to see them bonding, they'll need it the further this goes on. Jones and Marcantelli continue to circle around the craft into good flanking cover.
Wright carefully takes to closer cover, which was unfortunately under overwatch by an alien. Wright takes a shot to the shoulder. Shit. He's grinding his teeth so loud I can hear it over his mic, but he raises his rifle, returns fire and blasts another alien into whatever heaven awaits them. Wright: 2, Rest of Squad: 0. Huh.
Wright calls out more alien movement from within the craft and hits his shoulder with the Medikit. Good man. Apparently, Dr. Vhalen sees something on the monitors that alarms her. "A being of pure energy! We'll need to find a way to take it alive to study!". I can see a ball of energy transform into a lanky humanoid on Wright's cam. Dr. Vhalen's scratching notes on her clipboard faster than most people could type them. Hopefully, she'll get her wish, but it won't be today... we don't have the tanks to hold these things yet. As if reading my mind, Bradford lunges forward and charges to the wall of the craft, nice and close to the energy being and smacks it with a shotgun blast to the head. Unfortunately, one of his Sectoid buddies takes advantage of her position and she takes a shot to the leg.
Wright moves to her, fires back at the alien and misses. Bradford gets a revenge shot and hits it square in the chest. It's obviously wounded, but it's still moving and takes better cover. It returns fire but goes wide.
Meanwhile, Jones and Marcantelli have finished circling the craft and take firing positions, shooting into the craft blindly. Neither seems to hit anything of value, but it's enough to distract the aliens. Bradford gets a second shot off on her alien buddy and finishes the job. Unsure of which direction to expect fire, the last remaining alien drops down behind some ship bulkhead. He picked the wrong direction to defend against. Marcantelli finds a perfect flanking position, charges, fires, kills.
The team take their time to ensure no aliens remain, and begin salvaging the ship, prioritizing anything still bleeping and blooping. When they return home, they're able to inventory a wholly intact alien flight computer. Dr. Shen's already got his hands all over it before I can get to the squad.
Medics are already all over Wright and A. Bradford. Wright can't stop apologizing for getting hit. I reassure him that he earned that wound for daring to take out three of the ugliest space slobs this side of Mars, and that he's earned whatever rest he has coming to him. He grins, because he knows it's expected to when the Old Man tells a joke, but I can see the hurt in his eyes... he's out of the game again.
Bradford... A. Bradford, that is, is making no attempt at humor. Her legs is tore up pretty bad and she's yelling cusses that even I've never heard. I shut her up with Corporal stripes. Despite her wound, she's got great tactical sense and knows how to use the area to her defense... anyone else taking the same wound would have likely taken it fatally. She's a leader, and I know it. Now I just need to keep her in the fight and pull the leadership out of her.
Marcantelli and Jones are both obviously exhausted, but keep looking to Wright and Bradford, knowing they could be worse. Neither says much and they both return to the barracks.
After marking some damaged hardware that Dr. Shen says we can't put to any use as 'salvage' and contacting our Grey Market liason to take it away, I note the time as 10:08pm. Most eventful two hours of my life.
Thursday
March 9, 2015
I think we are now arriving at the Guinness Book of World Records record for most boring war ever. And it's with aliens, for crying out loud. How disappointing is that? I would feel fantastic if the aliens had just turned tail and ran; but there's just enough global activity, sightings and intelligence chatter to indicate that they haven't gone anywhere; they're just... Well, I'm not sure what they're doing, but it's getting on my nerves.
Everyone here at base has been so on edge, waiting for the next attack, that we're starting to get exhausted just from the tension of it all. Wright has been back on the roster for a full day and I think he may actually run off and start a new war just to stretch his legs.
We did get our satellite in place and operational over Argentina. Maybe this will help. Maybe the problem is that there's more going on than we're aware and more eyes will mean more activity. And more paychecks, that would sure help.
Wednesday
March 8, 2015
While activity has globally begun to taper off, there are still enough alien sightings on the ground and in the sky to tell me that this has only just begun. We're being studied; I'm positive of it. But, they won't wipe us out, despite having the obvious means to, and they're not taking the full offensive, when they could easily bleed our global resources dry in a matter of hours. We're being hunted, stalked, poked and prodded. Instead of being sucked up into a UFO in the middle of the night in the woods in the middle of Montana, our planet has been abducted into some twisted, galactic game of chess... we need to be able to plot their next move before they even take it, or our King (me?) is going to topple to the board.
On a more positive note, Wright has been given the all clear and has already prepped his gear for duty. I think he's been going stir crazy in the infirmity. I'll just make sure he gets the chance to make up for lost time... as soon as I have a chance to give him.
E.T. phone somewhere...
On a more positive note, Wright has been given the all clear and has already prepped his gear for duty. I think he's been going stir crazy in the infirmity. I'll just make sure he gets the chance to make up for lost time... as soon as I have a chance to give him.
E.T. phone somewhere...
Tuesday
March 7, 2015
New Interceptors arrived in Asia and South America, and the Interceptor deployed to South America from our base arrived on schedule. We now have two Interceptors at each satellite location. With any luck, they'll have no reason to launch in the foreseeable future... even paying for the fuel right now would put us in debt.
We have expanded the base downward, with the successful installation of the life going to a subbasement. While we lack the need to expand to this level, I'm eager to excavate so that we do have the room when we need it. I hate bottleneck.
I hate to say it, but what we really need is more activity right now... give our host nations a reason to be more grateful and forthcoming with the funds we need to operate.
We have expanded the base downward, with the successful installation of the life going to a subbasement. While we lack the need to expand to this level, I'm eager to excavate so that we do have the room when we need it. I hate bottleneck.
I hate to say it, but what we really need is more activity right now... give our host nations a reason to be more grateful and forthcoming with the funds we need to operate.
Monday
March 6, 2015
Finally, information. Dr. Vhalen presented me with a report that could lead to a solid and clear path to victory. They are like us. Regardless of what the biology of that implies, they psychology of it tells me that we can find a way to communicate, reason with... interrogate them. The potential effectiveness of my Argentinean ally has just grown exponentially. The trouble with this is that we can't interrogate dead spacemen.
Not unexpectedly, Dr. Vhalen has a plan for how to manage the shortage of live aliens we have available for interrogation. She and Dr. Shen have combined forces for the purpose of evil and come up with schematics for an "Arc Thrower". This is a hand weapon that will likely be capable of stunning the creatures, so that they can be safely transported back to base. The catch is that the expected energy output only allows for about two to three feet reach. That's too close for my tastes. Way too close. I've almost already lost one soldier while playing the "let's keep our distance" game; removing the element of range adds a level of risk I'm not comfortable with, by any means. Well, I wasn't, anyway, until Drs. Vhalen and Shen laid down what was obviously a well rehearsed speech about the merits of the cost of winning the war being a few lives in order to save the species. I want it to be horseshit. I know better.
Conveniently, they also have requirements and blueprints for a needed Alien Containment facility. It will take approximately as much time to have the containment facility ready as it will to develop the prototype for the Arc Thrower. As the engineering team reported that they finished excavation of some space on the main level, I gave the go ahead to have them start constructing the facility immediately. I had to pawn off two dead Sectoids to the grey market to get the money - I don't even want to speculate what will be done with them.
Two fingers of scotch finish off the evening.
Not unexpectedly, Dr. Vhalen has a plan for how to manage the shortage of live aliens we have available for interrogation. She and Dr. Shen have combined forces for the purpose of evil and come up with schematics for an "Arc Thrower". This is a hand weapon that will likely be capable of stunning the creatures, so that they can be safely transported back to base. The catch is that the expected energy output only allows for about two to three feet reach. That's too close for my tastes. Way too close. I've almost already lost one soldier while playing the "let's keep our distance" game; removing the element of range adds a level of risk I'm not comfortable with, by any means. Well, I wasn't, anyway, until Drs. Vhalen and Shen laid down what was obviously a well rehearsed speech about the merits of the cost of winning the war being a few lives in order to save the species. I want it to be horseshit. I know better.
Conveniently, they also have requirements and blueprints for a needed Alien Containment facility. It will take approximately as much time to have the containment facility ready as it will to develop the prototype for the Arc Thrower. As the engineering team reported that they finished excavation of some space on the main level, I gave the go ahead to have them start constructing the facility immediately. I had to pawn off two dead Sectoids to the grey market to get the money - I don't even want to speculate what will be done with them.
Two fingers of scotch finish off the evening.
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