lordroel
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Post by lordroel on Dec 28, 2019 16:15:00 GMT
Hostage crisis at the Russian EmbassyThe Embassy of the Russian Federation in the United Kingdom is located on a road known as Kensington Palace Gardens. This isn’t a private road though had many of the hallmarks of one due to security checkpoints by armed police officers at each end. Kensington Palace itself wasn’t on this half mile long road but there were embassies and ambassadorial residences here. A few houses were owned by billionaires who had security like the diplomatic compounds did. Specialist Met. Police officers were here to stop a terrorist attack with the primary concern being the Israeli Embassy midway down. Those at the northern end of Kensington Palace Gardens, at the junction with the busy Bayswater Road, were taken under fire by a team of armed men and women who emerged from a van which stopped in the midst of traffic and also came out of a boarded-up shopfront too. Civilians ran for cover yet some were caught in the exchange of gunfire. There were fourteen attackers with two of them being killed by the policemen. However, three of those officers lost their own lives with another pair gravely wounded. Towards the Russian Embassy compound the now dozen attackers went. They were taken under fire by Russian state security officers reacting to the gunfire and lockdown procedures were underway at the embassy itself. The terrorist assault team, these men and women from the Caucasus, lost some more of their number but carried onwards. They had the layout of the compound in their heads and had been informed of security procedures. Four more of their number were killed but the other eight would eventually get inside. They’d failed to get the ambassador – who’d been hurriedly evacuated – but there were dozens of hostages soon under their control like the embassy building was. Firstly policemen and then soon enough soldiers from Britain’s SAS would surround the embassy in which there were those terrorists with their hostages. Part of Bayswater Road itself would be closed off leading to traffic problems across West London come rush hour later that day. Contact was attempted to be made with those inside the embassy. What were their demands? Would they release the hostages? How could this situation be resolved? This went on for some time and got nowhere before, finally, there was contact with a spokesman of them in the early hours. He gave his demands. He would only release hostages when those were met. Resolution to this all would only come from the actions of the Kremlin. The official reaction from the British Government was that this was a terrorist incident on UK soil and that they would deal with it. Russia claimed sovereignty over its embassy and wanted to send a ‘special anti-terrorist team’ to London to put an end to it all. This was refused by the British and there was also the detention of a suspected Russian undercover agent at Heathrow Airport who flew in on a flight from Moscow: he was put back on a plane to the Russian capital and watch was made for others like him attempting to slip into the country. The ambassador had a residence – a fine building – down the road from the embassy and proved himself to be quite the pain in seeking to control events in the absence of men from Moscow. It was suggested to him by Britain’s Foreign Secretary that he de-camp to the Defence Attaché’s Office up in Highgate (another sovereign compound) for the time being because of the security issue just up the road but he scoffed at that. The media, kept back from the embassy but roaming around elsewhere, were here in Kensington Palace Gardens and he gave many interviews where he decried the ‘lacklustre’ British response to the terrorists and spoke of the infringement of Russian sovereignty… blah blah. The terrorists started shooting hostages. The Kremlin had refused to do as they demanded and the deadline for that to happen ran out. Those demands were unrealistic politically as well as logistically. It was never going to be the case that they would get their way… leading to the suspicion among senior British officials that they knew that and this wasn’t about that at all. British negotiators failed to get more time to play with and so the killings begun. An embassy staffer was shot outside the building and an hour later another one was pushed out the door to be gunned down in the open too. Thankfully there was no media coverage of this, but the British Government was unable to stop the Russian ambassador telling the world that these murders had happened without the UK being able to stop them. The terrorist’s spokesman had said that another hostage was going to be killed every hour: he had another thirty-three to go through (Britons as well as Russians) before he ran out of those to shoot. Without telling Moscow – fearful of the ambassador blabbing it all over television –, authorisation was given for an assault on the embassy to commence. The SAS raided it. They went in using a good plan to retake control. Things went awry though despite all the effort put in to make it go as desired. There was gunfire and explosions. People were killed and hurt. Still, in the end, the British special forces soldiers overwhelmed the terrorists. They killed six of them – two wounded prisoners were taken – while having one of their own number killed with others badly hurt. A further five hostages lost their lives when one of the terrorists blew himself up using an explosive suicide vest. Further soldiers and then policemen came into the embassy afterwards. Hostages were searched and questioned unless there was a terrorist hiding among them before they were finally released. In Moscow, there was no gratitude for the resolution of the hostage crisis but public criticism instead. Secretly, among those at the very top in the Kremlin, there was woe. Their plan had gone wrong. First, nice little flash fiction as usual James G. Second, a more bloody version of the Iranian Embassy siege. Third and finally, what is this plan those in the Kremlin are speaking of. |
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stevep
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Post by stevep on Dec 28, 2019 16:49:11 GMT
Hostage crisis at the Russian EmbassyThe Embassy of the Russian Federation in the United Kingdom is located on a road known as Kensington Palace Gardens. This isn’t a private road though had many of the hallmarks of one due to security checkpoints by armed police officers at each end. Kensington Palace itself wasn’t on this half mile long road but there were embassies and ambassadorial residences here. A few houses were owned by billionaires who had security like the diplomatic compounds did. Specialist Met. Police officers were here to stop a terrorist attack with the primary concern being the Israeli Embassy midway down. Those at the northern end of Kensington Palace Gardens, at the junction with the busy Bayswater Road, were taken under fire by a team of armed men and women who emerged from a van which stopped in the midst of traffic and also came out of a boarded-up shopfront too. Civilians ran for cover yet some were caught in the exchange of gunfire. There were fourteen attackers with two of them being killed by the policemen. However, three of those officers lost their own lives with another pair gravely wounded. Towards the Russian Embassy compound the now dozen attackers went. They were taken under fire by Russian state security officers reacting to the gunfire and lockdown procedures were underway at the embassy itself. The terrorist assault team, these men and women from the Caucasus, lost some more of their number but carried onwards. They had the layout of the compound in their heads and had been informed of security procedures. Four more of their number were killed but the other eight would eventually get inside. They’d failed to get the ambassador – who’d been hurriedly evacuated – but there were dozens of hostages soon under their control like the embassy building was. Firstly policemen and then soon enough soldiers from Britain’s SAS would surround the embassy in which there were those terrorists with their hostages. Part of Bayswater Road itself would be closed off leading to traffic problems across West London come rush hour later that day. Contact was attempted to be made with those inside the embassy. What were their demands? Would they release the hostages? How could this situation be resolved? This went on for some time and got nowhere before, finally, there was contact with a spokesman of them in the early hours. He gave his demands. He would only release hostages when those were met. Resolution to this all would only come from the actions of the Kremlin. The official reaction from the British Government was that this was a terrorist incident on UK soil and that they would deal with it. Russia claimed sovereignty over its embassy and wanted to send a ‘special anti-terrorist team’ to London to put an end to it all. This was refused by the British and there was also the detention of a suspected Russian undercover agent at Heathrow Airport who flew in on a flight from Moscow: he was put back on a plane to the Russian capital and watch was made for others like him attempting to slip into the country. The ambassador had a residence – a fine building – down the road from the embassy and proved himself to be quite the pain in seeking to control events in the absence of men from Moscow. It was suggested to him by Britain’s Foreign Secretary that he de-camp to the Defence Attaché’s Office up in Highgate (another sovereign compound) for the time being because of the security issue just up the road but he scoffed at that. The media, kept back from the embassy but roaming around elsewhere, were here in Kensington Palace Gardens and he gave many interviews where he decried the ‘lacklustre’ British response to the terrorists and spoke of the infringement of Russian sovereignty… blah blah. The terrorists started shooting hostages. The Kremlin had refused to do as they demanded and the deadline for that to happen ran out. Those demands were unrealistic politically as well as logistically. It was never going to be the case that they would get their way… leading to the suspicion among senior British officials that they knew that and this wasn’t about that at all. British negotiators failed to get more time to play with and so the killings begun. An embassy staffer was shot outside the building and an hour later another one was pushed out the door to be gunned down in the open too. Thankfully there was no media coverage of this, but the British Government was unable to stop the Russian ambassador telling the world that these murders had happened without the UK being able to stop them. The terrorist’s spokesman had said that another hostage was going to be killed every hour: he had another thirty-three to go through (Britons as well as Russians) before he ran out of those to shoot. Without telling Moscow – fearful of the ambassador blabbing it all over television –, authorisation was given for an assault on the embassy to commence. The SAS raided it. They went in using a good plan to retake control. Things went awry though despite all the effort put in to make it go as desired. There was gunfire and explosions. People were killed and hurt. Still, in the end, the British special forces soldiers overwhelmed the terrorists. They killed six of them – two wounded prisoners were taken – while having one of their own number killed with others badly hurt. A further five hostages lost their lives when one of the terrorists blew himself up using an explosive suicide vest. Further soldiers and then policemen came into the embassy afterwards. Hostages were searched and questioned unless there was a terrorist hiding among them before they were finally released. In Moscow, there was no gratitude for the resolution of the hostage crisis but public criticism instead. Secretly, among those at the very top in the Kremlin, there was woe. Their plan had gone wrong. First, nice little flash fiction as usual James G . Second, a more bloody version of the Iranian Embassy siege. Third and finally, what is this plan those in the Kremlin are speaking of.
I'm guessing that either: a) They were behind it all to discredit the 'rebels' and stoke up anger in Russia so they can use it as an excuse to crack down hard on whatever group is being blamed for the terrorist attack. This would fit in with wounded prisoners being taken as they might spill the beans or otherwise discredit the Russian case.
b) Possibly its more of a reaction to a real terrorist attempt but the ambassador has been instructed to be as obstructive and disruption as possible to make matters worse, so that either they can stoke up anger against the group - as above - and/or seek to discredit Britain for its 'poor' handling of the crisis.
Either way I think it was a very good decision to keep the ambassador out of the loop about the SAS action. 
Steve
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James G
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Post by James G on Dec 28, 2019 19:04:25 GMT
Hostage crisis at the Russian EmbassyThe Embassy of the Russian Federation in the United Kingdom is located on a road known as Kensington Palace Gardens. This isn’t a private road though had many of the hallmarks of one due to security checkpoints by armed police officers at each end. Kensington Palace itself wasn’t on this half mile long road but there were embassies and ambassadorial residences here. A few houses were owned by billionaires who had security like the diplomatic compounds did. Specialist Met. Police officers were here to stop a terrorist attack with the primary concern being the Israeli Embassy midway down. Those at the northern end of Kensington Palace Gardens, at the junction with the busy Bayswater Road, were taken under fire by a team of armed men and women who emerged from a van which stopped in the midst of traffic and also came out of a boarded-up shopfront too. Civilians ran for cover yet some were caught in the exchange of gunfire. There were fourteen attackers with two of them being killed by the policemen. However, three of those officers lost their own lives with another pair gravely wounded. Towards the Russian Embassy compound the now dozen attackers went. They were taken under fire by Russian state security officers reacting to the gunfire and lockdown procedures were underway at the embassy itself. The terrorist assault team, these men and women from the Caucasus, lost some more of their number but carried onwards. They had the layout of the compound in their heads and had been informed of security procedures. Four more of their number were killed but the other eight would eventually get inside. They’d failed to get the ambassador – who’d been hurriedly evacuated – but there were dozens of hostages soon under their control like the embassy building was. Firstly policemen and then soon enough soldiers from Britain’s SAS would surround the embassy in which there were those terrorists with their hostages. Part of Bayswater Road itself would be closed off leading to traffic problems across West London come rush hour later that day. Contact was attempted to be made with those inside the embassy. What were their demands? Would they release the hostages? How could this situation be resolved? This went on for some time and got nowhere before, finally, there was contact with a spokesman of them in the early hours. He gave his demands. He would only release hostages when those were met. Resolution to this all would only come from the actions of the Kremlin. The official reaction from the British Government was that this was a terrorist incident on UK soil and that they would deal with it. Russia claimed sovereignty over its embassy and wanted to send a ‘special anti-terrorist team’ to London to put an end to it all. This was refused by the British and there was also the detention of a suspected Russian undercover agent at Heathrow Airport who flew in on a flight from Moscow: he was put back on a plane to the Russian capital and watch was made for others like him attempting to slip into the country. The ambassador had a residence – a fine building – down the road from the embassy and proved himself to be quite the pain in seeking to control events in the absence of men from Moscow. It was suggested to him by Britain’s Foreign Secretary that he de-camp to the Defence Attaché’s Office up in Highgate (another sovereign compound) for the time being because of the security issue just up the road but he scoffed at that. The media, kept back from the embassy but roaming around elsewhere, were here in Kensington Palace Gardens and he gave many interviews where he decried the ‘lacklustre’ British response to the terrorists and spoke of the infringement of Russian sovereignty… blah blah. The terrorists started shooting hostages. The Kremlin had refused to do as they demanded and the deadline for that to happen ran out. Those demands were unrealistic politically as well as logistically. It was never going to be the case that they would get their way… leading to the suspicion among senior British officials that they knew that and this wasn’t about that at all. British negotiators failed to get more time to play with and so the killings begun. An embassy staffer was shot outside the building and an hour later another one was pushed out the door to be gunned down in the open too. Thankfully there was no media coverage of this, but the British Government was unable to stop the Russian ambassador telling the world that these murders had happened without the UK being able to stop them. The terrorist’s spokesman had said that another hostage was going to be killed every hour: he had another thirty-three to go through (Britons as well as Russians) before he ran out of those to shoot. Without telling Moscow – fearful of the ambassador blabbing it all over television –, authorisation was given for an assault on the embassy to commence. The SAS raided it. They went in using a good plan to retake control. Things went awry though despite all the effort put in to make it go as desired. There was gunfire and explosions. People were killed and hurt. Still, in the end, the British special forces soldiers overwhelmed the terrorists. They killed six of them – two wounded prisoners were taken – while having one of their own number killed with others badly hurt. A further five hostages lost their lives when one of the terrorists blew himself up using an explosive suicide vest. Further soldiers and then policemen came into the embassy afterwards. Hostages were searched and questioned unless there was a terrorist hiding among them before they were finally released. In Moscow, there was no gratitude for the resolution of the hostage crisis but public criticism instead. Secretly, among those at the very top in the Kremlin, there was woe. Their plan had gone wrong. First, nice little flash fiction as usual James G . Second, a more bloody version of the Iranian Embassy siege. Third and finally, what is this plan those in the Kremlin are speaking of. Thank you. That it is! Ah the plan...
I'm guessing that either: a) They were behind it all to discredit the 'rebels' and stoke up anger in Russia so they can use it as an excuse to crack down hard on whatever group is being blamed for the terrorist attack. This would fit in with wounded prisoners being taken as they might spill the beans or otherwise discredit the Russian case.
b) Possibly its more of a reaction to a real terrorist attempt but the ambassador has been instructed to be as obstructive and disruption as possible to make matters worse, so that either they can stoke up anger against the group - as above - and/or seek to discredit Britain for its 'poor' handling of the crisis.
Either way I think it was a very good decision to keep the ambassador out of the loop about the SAS action.
Steve
Good suggestions! It could be either, a combination of both or something else entirely. I had nothing in mind. It's all up to the imagination of the reader! |
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lordroel
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Post by lordroel on Dec 28, 2019 19:05:54 GMT
First, nice little flash fiction as usual James G . Second, a more bloody version of the Iranian Embassy siege. Third and finally, what is this plan those in the Kremlin are speaking of. Thank you. That it is! Ah the plan... I'm guessing that either: a) They were behind it all to discredit the 'rebels' and stoke up anger in Russia so they can use it as an excuse to crack down hard on whatever group is being blamed for the terrorist attack. This would fit in with wounded prisoners being taken as they might spill the beans or otherwise discredit the Russian case. b) Possibly its more of a reaction to a real terrorist attempt but the ambassador has been instructed to be as obstructive and disruption as possible to make matters worse, so that either they can stoke up anger against the group - as above - and/or seek to discredit Britain for its 'poor' handling of the crisis. Either way I think it was a very good decision to keep the ambassador out of the loop about the SAS action. Steve
Good suggestions! It could be either, a combination of both or something else entirely. I had nothing in mind. It's all up to the imagination of the reader! Yes, what is the plan James G, on the pain of writing a little Poney flash fiction. |
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Brky2020
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Post by Brky2020 on Dec 29, 2019 2:02:28 GMT
Day One, part one 1841 hours Colonial Standard Time Caprica Bay The CNS Galactica sat at the mouth of the large bay like a sentinel, guarding Caprica City against American aggression. It and the rest of Battleship Group-4 wouldn't have long to wait. Less than ten nautical miles away, Carrier Strike Group Six, led by the supercarrier Ronald Reagan, approached Caprica Bay. Colonial Air Force Vipers and Stingers hovered over the city and the bay and Poseidon submarines guarded the bay from below the Galactica, ready to defend Colonial territory against the enemy's jets, bombers and subs. Galactica's CIC was a beehive of activity; each person either ignored the tension or mentally pushed it aside, focusing instead on doing their jobs. Lieutenant Felix Gaeta's job was monitoring the dradis that tracked friendly and enemy movements, and he watched the red triangles filling up the top half of the screen with the calm professionalism his commanding officer expected of him. "Commander, the Americans have just crossed the line," Gaeta announced. "ETA five minutes." "The damn bastards are making good time," said the ship's executive officer, Colonel Saul Tigh. "Won't have to worry about our aircraft burning up tylium." "I don't like waiting," said the CO, Commander William "Husker" Adama, a decorated veteran of the Colombian and Angolan Wars. "I think it's time to send our guest that welcome basket." " That'll piss 'em off," Tigh said. "That can't possibly piss them off any more than we already are," Adama growled. Nice, is this in space or on Earth. Earth |
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lordroel
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Post by lordroel on Dec 29, 2019 8:51:04 GMT
Nice, is this in space or on Earth. Earth Okay, thanks for the answer Brky2020. |
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stevep
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Post by stevep on Dec 29, 2019 10:37:38 GMT
Nice, is this in space or on Earth. Earth
I think from some of the names mentioned and especially the Cylons that its based on an Earth where the survivors of Battlestar Galactica arrived some centuries or longer ago and settled some region but kept themselves in virtual isolation until recently. Now the US is getting very belligerent and autocratic and the colony is part of/leading an alliance trying to restrain it.
Steve
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Brky2020
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Post by Brky2020 on Dec 29, 2019 17:03:00 GMT
I think from some of the names mentioned and especially the Cylons that its based on an Earth where the survivors of Battlestar Galactica arrived some centuries or longer ago and settled some region but kept themselves in virtual isolation until recently. Now the US is getting very belligerent and autocratic and the colony is part of/leading an alliance trying to restrain it.
Steve
According to the Kobolian religion, life began long ago...out there...in space. Scientific and archeological findings suggest some sort of emigration from southern Europe, specifically Greece, circa 1st century B.C. This is consistent with Colonial historical accounts of the founding of Kobol over 2,000 years (yahren) ago, and the split of the continent into 13 tribes -- one of which left for parts unknown and never returned [1]. The Colonials knew of Europe, but as stevep suggested, they were in fact isolationist; although attempts were made to explore the world (as with the Saggitarons), they always returned. The Spaniards who discovered North America in the late 15th century took a northern route, just above Virgon (but out of eyesight of Virgon land and ships), due to legends of "sea monsters" in the southern ocean. This trip was about getting to the Indies (and the direct route to China and India); legends could wait. Of course, Columbus discovered the Caribbean in 1492. In 1493, Columbus took a straighter route, accompanied by a formidable Spanish armada in case the sea monsters were real. Instead, they discovered Caprica Bay. Only the good will of Columbus and certain people from the Caprican government kept war from breaking out; instead, it marked the opening of the Colonies to the greater world. Sagittaron maps describing what we know as North America were shared with the Spanish with the caveat they also would be freely shared with the rest of Europe (and, if warranted, any group from the Americas, China, India and elsewhere). Caprica began trading with Spain. The English arrived, the Capricans pointed the way west, and Cabot re-discovered the North American east coast. The Colonies debated sending their own exploratory groups west, but decided that the Europeans could have the Americas if they wanted them. History proceeded ITTL largely as it did IOTL, although trade routes had to adjust to account for the Kobolian continent in the central Atlantic. The Colonies allied themselves with western Europe and the United States, while desegrating at a lightning-fast pace compared to the rest of the western world. The Colonies also beat the rest of the west in just about every social category: slavery was banned by the time of the French Revolution; when American John Brown (partly inspired by Gemenese and Sagittarian abolitionists) was organizing armed resistance at Harpers Ferry, Sagittaron eliminated the last of its Jim Crow laws, putting it in line with the other 11 colonies; gays and lesbians had full rights by the time the U.S. Civil War broke out. Oscar Wilde went to Caprica, and took back such terms as "gendergay" and "allsexual" to a country that wasn't ready for such things (Wilde chose to stay in England, for the sake of others like himself). Christianity came to Kobol, as did Judaism and Islam and Buddhism and other non-Kobolian religions. Even today, only 9 percent of the total population in the UCK (Colonials and non-Colonials) consider themselves Christians of any kind; there are more Gemenese fundamentalists than Christians total. Judaism is at 2 percent, Islam (all types) 1.4 percent. Buddhism is at 6 percent. Other religions combined, 3 percent. So that leaves 52 percent of Colonials as atheists/non-religious, and the remainder as believers in what is called by outsiders as "the Colonial religion". By the beginning of the 20th century, the Colonials were fully open to the world, and were beginning to "encourage" the West to give up their own colonial holdings. The Colonies have done more than any other western nation to build up the post-colonial goverments in Africa and Asia, and in so doing put themselves sometimes into conflict with their allies (and the corporations influencing the allies' policies). Oh, yeah. There's one other thing. The space race. Caprica got to the moon in 1971, a year behind the Soviets and about two behind the U.S. Unlike the Soviets, the Russians and the Americans, the Capricans stayed there. There's a Mars mission, planned for 2021, and subsequent missions planned for the asteroid belt, for Europa, and eventually Titan. [1] Conventional wisdom is the "13th Tribe" headed east into Europe and assimilated into the local population. |
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Brky2020
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Post by Brky2020 on Dec 29, 2019 17:05:42 GMT
The TV show is canon in a way -- the characters are alive in the present day. There wasn't a Laura Roslin who lived and died 100,000 years ago, and another exactly like her who was born 50 years ago during the Swinging Sixties.
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lordroel
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Post by lordroel on Dec 29, 2019 19:30:03 GMT
The TV show is canon in a way -- the characters are alive in the present day. There wasn't a Laura Roslin who lived and died 100,000 years ago, and another exactly like her who was born 50 years ago during the Swinging Sixties. Reminds me of TL i once have read, called New Kobol on the Naval Fiction Board where Galactica landed on Australia and formed the country of New Kobol. |
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Brky2020
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Post by Brky2020 on Dec 30, 2019 0:43:35 GMT
The TV show is canon in a way -- the characters are alive in the present day. There wasn't a Laura Roslin who lived and died 100,000 years ago, and another exactly like her who was born 50 years ago during the Swinging Sixties. Reminds me of TL i once have read, called New Kobol on the Naval Fiction Board where Galactica landed on Australia and formed the country of New Kobol. I read that too. Again, this TL does not involve the Colonials evolving on any planet other than Earth...although their distant ancestors may have emigrated thousands of years ago, from the original Kobol (thus the source for the earliest Colonial origin stories). Those ancestors may in fact have included people with names like Adama, Apollo, Starbuck, Cassiopeia, Cain, Baltar, Bojay...but they would've been more like the characters from the original Battlestar Galactica and would have fled a single planet (Kobol) from enemies (like the original Cylons) towards another Kobol-like planet (Earth) that they either thought to be the 13th colony or decided to make the 13th colony. So much has been lost to history, and there's no way to verify if the commander ordered any ships to fly into the sun or if the Colonials helped seed the Greeks, the Egyptians, the Japanese, the Aryans, the Native Americans, Aboriginal Australians, and other races.... |
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Brky2020
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Post by Brky2020 on Dec 30, 2019 1:20:23 GMT
Day One
Part Two
Washington, D.C.
Marine Sargeant Jeff Connors dug into the trenches that lined Constitution Avenue, directly in line of sight of the Washington Memorial. He looked up and saw the sky filled with every kind of aircraft -- including drones -- that the U.S. military had access to.
He knew it wouldn't be enough.
Those so-called jump drives the Colonials possessed could literally put them anywhere at a moment's notice -- including over his head. The only good thing about them is that there weren't many of them. If scuttlebutt was accurate, the Colonials didn't have enough tylium for more than four. They could be anywhere, but not everywhere -- and, between the Americans and the Russians, the Allies should have ehough soldiers to outnumber the pagans and win the war--
Connors was blinded by a flash, for several moments. For a brief moment, he wondered if this would how he'd meet the Lord. Moments later, his eyesight returned, and to his surprise, the giant obelisk stood as it had since the Nazi-backed Silver Legion terrorists tried to knock it down with a hijacked Army truck in 1943.
There also was a Colonial ship, about 50 feet in front of the monument, and hovering about 30 feet above the ground. Boy, was it big...how many soldiers are onboard that thing?
"Here they come!," Connors yelled to his troops. "Shoot to kill! They can not keep an inch of American land!"
The soldiers dropped from the ship, dozens at a time...and Connors pissed himself when he saw the soldiers. Each seven feet tall, built like a linebacker on steroids...and all metal.
"What the fuck are they?", he said, not caring about the Moral Majority morale officer shitting himself three feet to his right.
Part Three
Somewhere in Caprica
In an oceanside mansion that he used, free of charge, courtesy of a Caprican politician, Gaius Baltar lie on his couch in his robe, watching the Colonial news channels with great interest, like a commoner sitting in their jersey and underwear would watch a domestic or international pyramid match.
--Colonial forces have been confirmed to have touched down inside Washington, D.C.--
--Colonial Air Force fighting alongside their Canadian counterparts over the Maritimes--
--NATO air units heading to the Balkans to intercept U.S. forces heading into Italy--
--British Royal Navy units assisting Colonial forces in the North Atlantic--
She hovered over the couch, reaching over and touching his chest ever so slightly. "Gaius, don't bother yourself with all of this. Relax. You've earned your rest."
"This is how I'm resting," he said to the blonde woman, not bothering to turn his eyes from the four 4K TV sets set up in a giant rectangle. "I'm curious to see how my work will be of use to the military."
"You've given the military the ability to shut the enemy down," she said, moving her fingers further down his body. "I've always wanted to visit Miami, or Las Vegas. I'd imagine either would be much more fun under Colonial rule."
Baltar turned to look at her directly. "Nonsense."
"Really?", she purred. "They'd be more fun under the Gemenese than they are now."
"I meant, the Colonials won't occupy America. Adar will force terms on them and install a friendly government. America's too big and there are too many of its citizens who don't want to change their minds. Adar will let the Canadians and British and the rest of NATO deal with it."
"Perhaps God will do what the President or his allies won't."
Baltar rolled his eyes. "You on that 'God' business again? There's no evidence for the Lords of Kobol. There surely isn't any evidence for the Abrahamic variety, either."
"I never mentioned the 'Abrahamic variety'. God is...different than any of the gods on this planet. And He has His own agenda."
"I hope that includes a quick end to this war, then," Baltar said, turning his attention back to the TV sets. "I don't think a prolonged war would be good for me--"
He felt a sudden tightening of his nether regions, a feminine hand with decidedly masculine, almost inhuman, strength.
"Do not mock God. Ever," she said, only then relaxing her hold. After allowing Baltar to catch his breath, she continued speaking. "Now, turn those sets off. You can catch up on current events later. Now, let me make you feel much better."
Baltar never could resist her 'come hither' look, and followed her like a puppy in heat to the bedroom.
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Brky2020
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Post by Brky2020 on Jan 2, 2020 1:47:14 GMT
The Right Thing
The President spoke softly, then spoke firmly, then spoke loudly, and yelled. The fourth time everyone in the Oval Office did what he suggested and stepped outside.
The first time should've been enough, he thought. Then again, I guess my own staff believes some of what the opposition says about me.
As much as he personally disliked the opposition's tactics, the President wasn't about to silence them or punish them over what they said about him behind his back and on the Sunday morning news streams. He wasn't about to silence the websites and streaming channels that were against him anymore than he was going to let the opposition silence the news media who were impartial or, in their view, biased against what they thought to be good and decent..and biased towards he and his party.
The President believed in the First Amendment passionately, as he believed in the rest of the Constitiution.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
That, he thought, should've shut up all the armchair social warriors, the political wonks, and the founders of the hundreds of news sites that sprang up in the wake of the killing of hundreds of newspapers by the mercenary hedge funds that bought them strictly to squeeze the last cent out of their corpses. He believed in a responsible free press, one that encouraged discourse and thoughtful analysis, rather than catering to the basest instincts of humanity.
In fact, he never liked the tabloids. He hated how the tabloids relentlessly invaded the lives of celebrities here and elsewhere, and the paparazzi who did whatever they could just to get another picture of somebody that they could sell to one of those pieces of trash. But because he was in politics -- which had its own particular vultures for him to deal with -- he never really had to deal with the tabloids; he only had to deal with the city, then state, then the Washington political gossip rags.
They, at least, knew their boundaries, and after the FBI defused a dirty bomb that threatened to do to Dallas what another did to Amsterdam, the political rags kept to their place. Washington had kept to the unofficial policy of 'attack the candidate/politician, leave his or her family alone' for years, and no one within the Beltway wanted to even think about breaking that agreement for the sake of a few thousand hits.
The tabloids outside the Beltway felt no such obligations.
Two of the most notorious tabloids -- one British, the other based in Florida -- found out about the President's granddaughter, and were either ignorant of the unofficial policy to leave politicians' families alone, or both arrogant and woefully too stupid to do anything other than go with the story that garnered each tabloid hundreds of millions of hits and retweets and likes.
The granddaughter was once the President's grandson. She transitioned at age 18, having escaped a conversion therapy camp in the middle of Wyoming and put the parents at odds against her father and his father-in-law; the parents chose their god, their religion and the opposition; the then-Senator chose his grandchild.
The tabloids hammered their audiences about his beloved granddaughter being a pedophile, a serial pervert haunting women's restrooms, and a threat to make the fourth-grade children she taught twice the son (not daughter) of hell she already was. Every anti transgender personality who would speak on the record was called upon, and in an especially shocking editorial the British tabloid openly called for patriotic American militia groups to "cooperate" with the church who ran the conversion therapy camp to kidnap her (calling her 'him') and do everything short of rape and murder to make him (her) recant her 'evil lifestyle'. The tabloid cared not a single bit about the issue like the unhinged lunatics who tried to take them up on their suggestion did, nor the church that still pushed the practice that had by now been banned in 42 states.
After the attempted kidnapping went awry (and 17 of the kidnappers were shot dead by FBI, Secret Service and Michigan state troopers), Congress in a rare show of bipartianship stood with the President, and both parties introduced bills that would ban conversion therapy. Some Congresspersons even floated the idea of media restrictions, aimed with good intentions at silencing the tabloids who Just Would Not Shut Up. Even with his dislike of the tabloids, the President shut that down: the First Amendment was as sacred as anything in a secular government, and the government restricting the tabloids could lead to a future scenario where a sitting President censored the Washington Post because he or she didn't like an editorial or how they covered a topic.
One Tuesday afternoon, his beloved granddaughter, having been pushed beyond her limits after being caught in her own house by paparazzi who broke in to her own bathroom, and having had the pictures posted in minutes by the British tabloid, gave the intruder one final, shocking, photo for his employer to post.
The grisly photo got more hits than any other photo in the tabloid's history. The FBI learned that the tabloid used Mexican cartel groups to smuggle the photographer across the border into Ontario. CSIS captured the photographer at the request of the Canadian Prime Minister before the person could catch a flight to London (using the stolen identity of a young pastor butchered to death by a cartel member). FBI and CSIS learned more money had been exchanged, between the cartel and the British and Florida-based tabloids. This was, in many ways, strictly business.
Two days ago, the President sent a message to the cartel by bombing its central headquarters in Sinaloa back to the stone age. He pissed off the Mexican government.
He could've cared less, and actually had plenty of support from both parties and from the public -- especially those who lived near the Mexican border and had to deal with some kind of cartel-related violence or atrocities each day. When the Mexican ambassador told NBC the President was 'overreacting', he ordered drones to bomb additional cartel safe houses and related properties in Mexican territory near the American cities of Yuma; Tucson; El Paso; Laredo; and the cities that made up the Rio Grande Valley region.
Yesterday, the President spoke for two hours with the Steel Aunt, the Thatcheresque Prime Minister of the U.K., who promised, then vowed that she and the U.K. would handle the "Sunrise Problem" decisively but that it was an internal matter, that the U.S. was not to get involved in any way. He tried to lead her to think she had gotten her way; he planned his next moves as if she saw right through him.
This morning, the President called his Chief of Staff, the White House staff, the Joint Chiefs and the House and Senate majority and minority leaders into the Oval Office and told them what he was going to do. Those who spoke tried desperately to talk him out of it. He wouldn't have it, finally yelling to get them to leave.
In the emptiness and silence of the room, the President picked up a phone and ordered his secretary to place a call to the granddaughter's parents. They agreed to speak to him, and were silent only when he told them to pack up the SUV and get to Mammoth Cave as fast as they could.
Then he called in the Joint Chiefs and the CIA director. "We're doing this," he said.
"Sir, that means--", the Air Force Colonel said, before the President cut him off.
"I know what it means, Colonel."
"Sir...the British know something's bound to be up."
"Are the drones ready? The Stingers?" He looked at all eight men. Each knew what they were being asked to do, and each were aware of the fallout that would come with it. "Most importantly: are they secured?"
The Army General nodded. "In place as you've directed, sir. And yes they're secured." The General knew his neck was on the line, but he had no love for the tabloids, either. He saw them as a security threat.
"Director?"
"Our people will keep the British away," said the CIA Director, a man who was a tad more like J. Edgar Hoover than the President liked, as he advocated strict surveillance and control on all media, but was both loyal and crucial to this operation's success. "The General's people will have plenty of time to execute the operation."
"What about my people out there, and the Congressmen and Senators? Are they secure?" The President looked directly at the Marine Commandant.
"As you directed, sir." That meant Leo couldn't contact the Post or the New York Times, nor could the congressmen and senators contact any of their colleagues in some attempt to stop this operation. "Permission to speak freely."
"Make it quick," the President said.
"There are better ways to handle this that won't jeopardize our relations with Britain." And our jobs, the Marine thought. "This could put us at war with an American ally."
"Objection noted." He took his cellphone out of his jacket. "Is this clean?", he asked the Director.
"Completely," the CIA man said.
The President called the Florida Governor and the Adjuant General of Florida, both of whom had activated the state's National Guard in light of recent tensions between the U.S. and the China-backed government of Cuba. "Gentlemen, are your people in place?"
"Affirmative, Mr. President." Both were good people, and he kept them in the dark as much as he could to protect them as best he could.
"Then, on my authority, Execute War Plan Orkin." He looked at the military men as he spoke.
Four minutes later, the buildings hosting the Sunrise Enterprises Ltd. corporation in Kensington, London, and the American Enquirer and Star in Jacksonville, Florida were blown apart by a series of Stinger missiles. At that moment, hundreds of Americans died in Florida, and the President was also responsible for at least 2,000 deaths -- mostly British nationals, but also some Americans and some from allied nations -- and although some of those were the people who drove his granddaughter to suicide, the President knew he had the blood of innocents on his hands.
He called it War Plan Orkin for a reason: this was war, against terrorists of a sort, and he had to send a message by exterminating them. Someone had to.
Simultaneously, American forces in Britain, ireland and western Europe went to Defcon Two, and the order went out to secure all American bases in that region by any means necessary, while another order went out for the USS Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USS John F Kennedy to head straight for the English Channel to support American forces in England; at least France would support them when the shooting started.
He knew his actions could make things worse for all LGBTQI people in both America and Britain. But doing nothing -- like making a stirring speech at the Washington Pride parade, as his former Chief of Staff recommended -- was making things worse, too. He hoped history would judge him better than his peers would, and prayed he was doing what could ultimately be called the right thing.
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Brky2020
Sub-lieutenant
Posts: 406
Likes: 406
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Post by Brky2020 on Jan 2, 2020 13:06:00 GMT
Updated, fleshed-out and edited.
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Brky2020
Sub-lieutenant
Posts: 406
Likes: 406
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Post by Brky2020 on Jan 4, 2020 1:38:55 GMT
Day One
Part Four
Washington, D.C.
In just over an hour, Marine Sgt. Connors' unit had retreated from Constitution Avenue back to Pennsylvania Avenue; the robot soldiers or whatever the hell the pagans had built had driven them back and were already on the verge of knocking on front door of the White House.
The gladiator-looking metal behemoths -- what else would you call a robot as tall as Anthony Davis and as big as Bill Goldberg, just not human? -- had already taken the lives of 18 of Connors' men and God knew how many hundreds (thousands?) more across the D.C. war zone. The Washington Monument had fallen, not by enemy hands but from one of dozens of Javelin missiles fired at the Colonial floating ship that had warped -- for lack of a better term -- right next to the monument.
Connors wanted his men and himself -- and that included the MMMO embedded with his unit -- right on the South Lawn, ready to defend the White House to the last man and, probably, die in the attempt; Graham and the rest of his cronies had escaped D.C. and fled to safety, probably either the "Doomsday" Boeing jet that Graham would have had to board from Joint Base Andrews, or that place at Mount Weather, Virginia that The 700 Club said had been turned into a vacation spot for politicians and other VIPs.
Instead, he got orders from the commanding officer in the theatre -- an Army Colonel holed up in the Capitol building -- to send his men to defend the Office of the Mayor of Washington, D.C. The surprise in his voice wasn't lost on the morale officer, who admonished him for "questioning authority" and a "lack of faith" in his commanding officers. Connors ignored him, as usual, and kept to himself the profanities he was thinking for having to keep this dipshit alive: the Moral Majority division of the FBI was notorious for finding ways to make any officer who was less than fully enthusiastic and appreciative of God's people doing the Lord's work in the military, whenever and whererever, including when unkillable robots were running amok.
Looking up in the sky, Connors saw more of those damned Colonial jets. There were two very different types that obviously had control of the air over D.C. -- he hadn't seen a friendly jet since the shooting started -- and very different from the Viper jet fighters and the Raptor attack helicopters the pagans normally used. One could be best described as a 'flying wing', the other like a buzzard with its wings stretched forward like it was a kamikaze Superman about to dive down and in for the kill.
"I wonder if those bastards got the President and the rest of them," Connors said, leery of the brief respite from fighting. He looked around from his men's position on 14th St NW, behind the White House Visitor Center, and saw soldiers everywhere: behind him, in front of the Bauer Building and Trade Center; to his left down 14th, behind the Hoover and Department of Commerce buildings; and to his right, in Freedom Plaza and Pershing Park.
"Joshua one-nine," the morale monitor chirped up, before proceeding to quote the first chapter and the ninth verse of the Old Testament book of Joshua. "Remember your position, Sergeant. You are a leader."
"No shit," Connors said. That would probably get him a demerit, which meant diddly-shit in the life-and-death situation they were all in.
"Watch your language, Sergeant. Ephesians 4:29: 'do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your--"
Connors clamped his palm over the monitor's mouth when he heard a explosion off in the distance towards the White House, then pulled his communicator out of his jacket with his free hand. "What the hell was that?", he yelled, hearing automatic fire in the same direction. Then, there was a flash that briefly blinded both men and everyone else in the vicinity.
When his vision returned a few seconds later, Connors realized he still had his communicator to his ear. "Sitrep! Sitrep!" The situation had already devolved to the point where unit commanders had ditched proper communications protocol in favor of simply being able to talk to one another in the field.
"Reading you five by five," said the voice in the earpiece clamped tightly to Connors' right ear. "The Borg have warped in. Metal Goliath's blown 34, heading towards the den. Stand by." The flash meant another one of those ships had jumped in, and the robots had blown up the Eisenhower building -- the smoke trail rising in the distance confirmed that -- and they were headed right for the White House. He was a fan of the Metal Goliath cartoons put out by CBN when he was a kid, watching them take down Satanists, Colonials, Japanese, Euros and Canadians week after week. Nothing in the cartoons nor in the Spire and Thomas Nelson-backed comic books prepared him for the real metal goliaths marching through D.C.
"Stand by?", Connors muttered, his left hand still clamped over the morale officer's mouth. He shoved his communicator back in his jacket and let go of the idiot, then reached for the M27 in front of him.
"Wh-what did they say?", the morale monitor stuttered. "What's going on over there?" Connors could still smell the shit-stained stench off the back of the man's khakis.
"They said wait, but we're heading towards the 'den'." Connors looked to the rest of his unit, which had picked up stragglers from another unit mostly decimated in the fighting at the monument. "Bastards are at the White House. We're going there too. On me." Connors ran out from behind the abandoned Nissan Altima he was using as a sort-of-shelter, and his men followed right behind.
The monitor sprinted to catch up to the sergeant. "Sir, I must protest. Your orders were to 'stand by'. That does not mean 'leave your post'." Connors glanced at the man briefly, then resumed his pace. Other units were starting to move forward, towards the fighting, and Connors's unit quickly formed the third line of seven headed towards the White House.
"I will have you written up, Sergeant. This is a clear violation of--"
Connors stopped, his men stopping behind him, as soldiers in the other units moved forward. He grabbed the monitor by the throat. "I'm going to tell you this once, so listen," he growled. "Here, I'm God. Not you. Not the man in the sky. Me. When I give an order you obey. Never question me or bother me with your bullshit ever again."
He let go of the monitor, leaving the man gasping for air, then looked back at his men. "What the fuck you standin' around for? GO!"
"Kick some toaster ass!" one of the stragglers yelled, but the rest of Connors' unit kept silent. Their boss expected results, not yelling.
As the unit crossed into Pershing Park in front of the Sherman monument, they saw a massive explosion in the direction of the White House. Moments later, Connors saw American soldiers running towards him and his unit. "FALL BACK!" they shouted. "GO."
Connors grabbed one of the retreating soldiers -- the morale monitor, annoyingly, was still by his side -- as the soldier ran past, and turned the kid to look him in the eye. "Why the order to fall back, soldier?", he yelled.
The soldier, an 18-year-old draftee, was as poised as a scared kid in his position could be. "They blew up the White House, sir," he replied. "H-hundreds of ours dead. Enemy's all over the place. My C.O. told us to retreat."
"Retreat where?"
"East, down Pennsylvania Avenue."
"The battle's lost?"
"A-affirmative. Sir."
Jesus. "Where's your C.O. now?"
"Dead. One of those goliaths blew his brains out after he issued that order."
"The rest of your unit?"
"Scattered, or dead...I lost track--"
"You're with me, now." Connors looked at the other men in his unit. "We're heading back, down Pennsylvania Avenue." Down Pennsylvania, towards the Capitol building. "Go!"
"NO! WE FIGHT!", the morale monitor screamed, holding his Baretta pistol in the air. "JOSHUA 1:9! DEUTERONOMY 20:1 THROUGH--"
Connors kicked the monitor below the belt, and looked at his newest straggler. "Confiscate this man's weapon, and pull him with you. If he offers any resistance, shoot the son of a bitch."
"Sir?"
"Did I stutter, Private?"
"No sir," the private said, and grabbed the dazed (and hurting) morale monitor by the arm. Neither had trouble keeping up with the rest of Connors' unit, as they raced to reach some kind of fall-back position, before the enemy could beat them there.
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