Arc Three : Saturn, The Bringer of Old Age


“It is a miracle for historians around the world, that the development of cameras and the decisions made to record their last days, that we have such a keen insight into the intrigue, defeatism, optimism, and mania that occurred in the final hours of many governments across the Earth. I for one, find it humorous that the remaining rulers of the United States of America had considered it an extremely brilliant plan…to basically go to the other end of the exact same house in which they had all been nearly forced into a nonconsensual orgy. It’s also humorous to see that they had the arrogance or ignorance to think that The Lilim hadn’t considered the possibility that The Last Valkyrie would intervene to assist them. But to the credit of Epsilon Lime’s security measures, Royal Makai never discovered the identity of the Kuiper Group’s embedded elected official within the American Congress, until it was far too late.”
 
-excerpt from the Mamono Encyclopedia Britannica, First Edition, Chapter Four: The Superpowers of Earth And Their Downfalls




(Non arrives at the Presidential Emergency Operations Center, after having his ID checked and his identity confirmed by Wheeling, who had grilled him on a recap of what they had gone through together in the Metro subway. Upon reaching the area of the staircase adjacent to the second sub-basement, he also passed through a pheromone scanner programmed to detect demonic energy. Once he got to the PEOC, he nearly slid on the floor next to the entrance. The awkward act did well to break the atmosphere of dread, earning a few chuckles from several of the VIPs inside. As he enters the room to take the last empty seat at the table, he notices that General Hamlets’ aide is currently handcuffed to the tertiary Football. Sergeant-Major Wheeling is also there, showered clean and in a modern uniform, stationed as Colonel Andreas’s communications pipeline to the Cabinet. With a complete lack of any members of the press around, Sherry Phillips stands in the western corner of the room, tasked with recording events using a Panasonic shoulder-mount camcorder that had been taken from the bunker’s televising room, three doors away.)

(Secretary of Energy Jamison) “Ah, Non! There you are.... at last. How’d it go? You got the primary and secondary Footballs? Did they get any hits on you?”

(N.S.A. Non) “Alright, alright, calm down. Despite the efforts of the aliens, we completely succeeded with no casualties, except for one. I self-destructed the West Wing too, if any of you felt that blast. Along with the Oval Office’s tunnel to the Theater Room. No one’s used it since three weeks ago, that computer logged every unlocking and re-locking.”

(FBI Director Willemsen) “Who was the casualty? One of the airmen, or that Marine medic?”

(N.S.A. Non) “None of those guys, thank goodness. We…. We lost the President. Tried to capture him, took out his son and the First Lady. He surrendered the primary Football, then he... Well, he left us on his own terms.”

(The room cuts to a dead quiet. Everyone makes time for a few moments of silence for their deceased Commander-in-Chief. About 10 seconds later, the Director of National Intelligence is the first to speak up.)

(D.N.I. Davis) “Jesus Christ. I knew he’d get a spot in the history books, but not like this. Not being the first President to take his own life in office. Literally, in the Office. Veep’s gone too. This is dread, man. Truly dread!”

(White House Deputy Chief of Staff Marroquin) “Gentlemen, ladies, please! Before we bog ourselves down in mourning, let’s remember that the wolves are at our gates! And if Non’s briefings were right, then there’s LITERALLY going to be wolf-people outside! Delvecchio! You’re up! Congratulations, you’re the President of the United States!”

(Speaker of the House Delvecchio) “I know. God, I wanted to sit in the Oval Office, but not like this. Goddammit, not like this. Let’s go. Someone get a Bible! We’re doing this by the book, the Good Book. Non! Get a Football ready. We’re launching right afterwards. Oh, and one more thing. We know ‘Freyja’’s name is really Eydis, clever alias by the way. She and Menendez brought us up to speed on Task Force Epsilon Lime, Davis gave us the cliffnotes on what ECHELON knows about Royal Makai.”

(Senator Douglas) “Now just hold a minute! We outta confirm the locations of the rest of the top of the line of succession first! Who’s the designated survivor!?”

(N.S.A. Non) “It’s that Floridaman O'Connor! He’s over at the Denver bunker under the city’s airport, on standby to receive any Brit VIPs.”

(Senator Douglas) “Alright, that clears the Secretary of Defense. Then where’s the Secretary of State and Senator Roquefort? Homeland Security’s Secretary too, he wasn’t at his office, noticed it when I peeked around my blindfold when they took us to the Situation Room!”

(N.S.A. Non) “Secretary of State’s been compromised since last month. Sent out an executive order right after the invasion started, told the Annapolis PD to whack her. Just as Eydis predicted, they targeted major population centers like L.A. and NYC BEFORE targeting military and government centers. They blitzed Baltimore, Richmond, THEN Annapolis, before making any serious pushes towards us. Back on track though, the Senate’s President pro tempore is hiding in a random missile silo somewhere in the Midwest. He called me about ten minutes before I left the Marble Palace, right around noon today. I told Roquefort not to tell me which specific silo, just in case I didn’t make it here. The Secretary of Homeland Security is gone too. They got him right when I was in a conference call with him and Chesterfield. Got lucky, I was using a burner phone. Destroyed and ditched it before they could trace my IP. Speaking of Eydis, where is she?”

(Major General Menendez) “He’s not bullshitting about Shao. They DID get him right while he was on the phone, didn’t know he was talking to Non. Saw it happen live on security camera at the Pentagon. Right now, he’s probably getting an aerial spinning blowjob from a ghost. And about your heavenly girlfriend, relax, Non. She said she was going to help with keeping our topside security supplied.”

(Senator Douglas) “Sorry about the stall, but my questions are answered. Let’s get this shit started.”

(N.S.A. Non) “Marston, get on the line. Someone tell her to get down here in ten minutes!”

(The Cabinet & Company go forwards with swearing Delvecchio in as the newest President of the United States. By the time the ceremony is done, Non has the Football ready.)

(N.S.A. Non) “Alright, Mister President. Thanks to the Biden administration’s security protocol overhauling, we’re going to need THREE people to authenticate the nuclear arsenal priming. Afterwards, we’ll select and execute an Operations Plan. Executing an Operations Plan will send out an Emergency Action Message, which’ll tell our silos, submarines, and jets to prime their boom-booms and tell 'em which specific targets they have. I’ve already made arrangements to make a custom Operations Plan that'll get our nukes ready to fly through those portals and detonate once they’ve made it to the alien homeworld. Sent a similar copy of the plan to England, India, France, and Russia. Offered it to the Israelis too, but they turned me down, said that there was no way they’d waste the Samson Option on anything that isn’t a major Muslim population center. Took a lot of precise programming from some of the best minds of the Space Force, NASA, the NRO, and even some unwitting patsys from Roscosmos to get this down as well as we can. Shit could get done with IBM Datamasters from 1981, but I’ll be honest, it’s still experimental. We’ve obviously never been able to test-fire any missiles through any portals, but we’d have SOME workable data with launching nukes across astronomical distances if you guys had let Yolanda Mous launch some nuclear-triad-wide inert rocket tests to the Moon, Mars or Venus. And before any of you bring up the Outer Space Treaty, I’d like to remind you that there isn’t a UN left to prosecute us anymore!” 

(President Delvecchio) “All right. So members of the Cabinet get to have launch privileges, right?”

(N.S.A. Non) “Close, but technically, sir, your predecessor made it so that only you, the Vice-President, and the Cabinet can authorize launches. Apologies to the Joint Chiefs among us, but you know how peaceniks get when they find out that military officers have so much as a slim chance to nuke anyone by themselves. Career suicide. So! Enter your full name here, and put your hand to confirm your fingerprints.....here. It’ll take a few minutes to get the system to acknowledge that you're now POTUS. Any other members of your new Cabinet you wanna enter in too? You’ve got a few openings now.”

(President Delvecchio) “I’ve already got a few in mind. Marroquin! You said that you’re good at making friends with visiting foreign dignitary staff, wanna be my Secretary of State?”

(Marroquin’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, mostly from how informal Delvecchio’s tone of voice had now become.)

(Marroquin) “I, uh, I accept, and you can’t believe how honored I am!”

(President Delvecchio) “The honor’s all mine. You’ve been here since the administration BEFORE the last one, just felt fair to give you a chance to sit at the big boy table! Come over here and do this confirmation shit too. Alright, next. Secretary of Homeland Security, let me see. Ah, Non! You want the job? You’ve certainly earned a chance to sit at the table, we’d be utterly fucked six ways past Sunday if you and Miss Eydis weren’t around. Menendez here tells me that your predecessor Mous wanted to put all her chips into fighting the Kenkouans with conventional warfare. Well, we’ve all seen that THAT would’ve been the most retarded idea since the Japs decided to neutralize a carrier-based fleet by surprise-bombing a ton of battleships, no offense to Miss Matsuda."

(Secretary of Education Matsuda) “None taken, sir. I’ve been in this sausage-fest of a Cabinet long enough to notice token PR moves like refraining from using slurs on camera, or hiring on a mostly-female Secret Service like the last guy. For God’s sake, please speak more honestly on camera than the last guy, it’d be SUCH a fresh breath of air.”


(Non) “I accept! Fuck yes, I accept! I mean, um, t-thank you for the nomination, sir, I won’t let you or Lady Liberty down! But to.....expand on Matsuda’s point, I honestly think that the last guy did it on purpose. I don’t think he paid any attention to the briefings where I told you all about how the aliens become obsessed with getting mates and taking complete care of them. His plan to have a super-powered security force was doomed, they’d almost all resign and go back to their schmuck lives after catching themselves some husbands.”

(President Delvecchio) “Then congratulations, Secretary of Homeland Security Non! Come on down and get yourself logged into the system. Do we have any secure phone lines in here?”

(General Marston) “We do indeed. My cell phone’s got the best encryption software this side of the Rio Grande, who do you need to call?”

(President Delvecchio) “I meant television-wise. I wanna see SecDef O’Connor with my own eyes, we can’t trust a simple phone call these days. I want O’Connor on the main TV, I want Looking-Glass on THAT one, and get NIGHTWATCH on that one! But we can still use your phone. Once we’re done with our conference call, we’ll call my late predecessor’s grandkids. They deserve to know what happened to their grandparents and parents. Same goes for the late Vice-President’s family. After that, we’ll take turns checking up on all our immediate relatives.”

(SecHS Non) “So Davis, what was that about ECHELON?”

(D.N.I. Davis) “Long story short, there’s something I haven’t told you. But since there’s no fuckin’ reason to hide it anymore, here it is. We Five Eyes folks have been aware of the Kenkouans for longer than you think. They’ve been communicating with Earth humans for two years and five months now, as far as we know. We have no idea how long they’ve been lurking on the Internet before making posts. Our first hint was them asking dumb questions about commonly-known Earth shit that aliens wouldn’t know about. Then some of the ones on Reddit and Four-Chan made their own servers on this chat room-social media app called Discord. That’s when the questions REALLY started getting weird. So we traced their post IPs, and we all shat our pants when we pooled our notes together. All the IPs led to varying distances, all starting at a little over thirty-eight miles above sea level. You guys know what starts at about thirty-eight miles above sea level?"

(Chief of Staff Marroquin) “The Van Allen radiation belts?”

(D.N.I. Davis) “Good guess, but wrong. Van Allen belts start at four hundred miles above sea level. Correct answer is the plasmasphere. Those shimmer-anomalies that the I.S.S. has been looking into since last July? The timing of them coincides with Kenkouans ‘logging’ into the Internet. They’re portals, but only for radio transmissions. My point is that we cannot afford to be too cocky about our technology. Royal Makai isn’t a bunch of drooling Iron Age savages that can’t tell a cell phone from a Glock 19. They’re intelligent life forms of an equal capacity for cunning as you and me. They’re adapting to our technology, that’s why the satellites are still intact, that’s why they’re playing softball with NASA and the FCC. They aren’t a backwards civilization, they’re a civilization that ran on a parallel course. They’ve had over THREE centuries to sharpen their minds and learn every possible method conceivable to outsmart human beings, just so they can literally fuck us into submission. And Eydis is proof that the humans of that world were also just as smart as us, and guess what? THEY LOST!

(Upon finishing that sentence, Eydis floats into the room, flapping her wings slowly to assure the others that she’s using magic to levitate.)

(Eydis) “Who summoned for me? Is it an emergency?”

(As Secretary of Homeland Security Non fills her in on what has happened since they separated, Delvecchio speaks with his new Cabinet. As she squeezes Non into a hug to congratulate him on his promotion, the new President turns to his former fellow House Representatives. Unsurprisingly to him, he notices that they are all Republicans or right-wing Independents, with the exception of Senator Douglas, a warhawk-centrist Democrat.)

(President Delvecchio) “So, any other spots that need filling at a time like this?”

(Congresswoman Palmieri) “You need new Army and Navy Chiefs of Staff. I was in the NMCC over at the Pentagon when it got overrun. We lost those two over there. And the last president didn’t know it, but Non and the NSA director had given out a secret level of clearance called ‘Yankee-Kaleidoscope’, to a certain few individuals in case everyone here got taken out. A last-resort succession protocol. I don’t know who the other members are, and we don’t need to know. Chesterfield has some members that only he knows about, and the same goes for Non. The whole point was that even if these Royal Makai assholes brainwash every single person here, they won’t have all the pieces of the atomic puzzle, and we only need three of us to slip through their nets. All I know, is that I was given that clearance on account of being the chairwoman of the House’s subcommittee that deals with civilian oversight of our nuclear triad. I don't know why-”

(Senator Dupree) “Alright! I’m in Denver International’s bunker system! Logging into the security cameras....gotta find which room the SecDef’s in, so I can call whatever phone’s in the room and tell him to find the nearest working webcam. Almost in that one..... You know, this headset’s a lifesaver for hearing whatever the hell is going on.”

(Halberstram) “Put it on the main screen. Can they see us from their end?”

(Dupree) “Nope, the cameras are one way...Bingo! His Central Locator System’s beacon is still on, I’m breaking into the closest camera.”

(Senator Dupree turns the camera on, giving everyone in the conference room a full view of Secretary of Defense O’Connor getting fondled by a Bear-woman, while balls deep in a succubus’s anus.)

(Secretary of Health and Human Services Dhar, nearly spitting out a warm cup of Joe that Mr. Little had quickly brewed) “What the hell!?”

(Dupree) “Aw, that’s fuckin’ nasty! That succ-er’s got a dick! I knew it, I knew O’Connor was a pole-smoker all along! 

(General Hamlets) “What the fuck even is that music?”

(SecHHS Dhar) It’s Samantha Fox’s ‘Touch Me’. Dammit, that one’s a banger, he’s ruined it!”

(General Hoboken) “Uheheheheheheheh! Aw, ain’t that poetic.”

(Halberstram) “The fuck do you mean by ‘poetic’?”

(General Hoboken) “The peter-puffers are banging to the tune of a carpet-muncher’s voice!”

(Lawrence) “Those are called alps, Dupree. The demons with dicks, that is. Don’t blame you, you weren’t cleared for Non and Eydis’s briefings. They’re troons. Eventually the dick goes away, and they fully transition into a woman with a pussy, tits, ovary, the whole nine yards. Which would make the SecDef bi, on account of the bear-lady, which is still MEGA GAY. Cut the feed before you start getting a chubby too, faggot. Marston! Call the Limeys and Canucks, tell ‘em that Denver International is probably a trap, so if they still wanna go there, they better bring the best Beefeaters they've got for shooting their way in! And where’s Looking-Glass and NIGHTWATCH?”

(Marston) “Got it, I’ll step outside for a second, I’ve got the UK Space Command’s Vice-Marshal and his Canadian attache on speed-dial. If they’re compromised, I’m calling the Canadians at NORAD. In the meantime, Delvecchio had better find himself a new SecDef.”

(President Delvecchio) “Shit, man, aw shit, shit, shit, shit. Who... who around here can take the spot without losing an important position? It’s gotta be......a military vet, it’s gotta….. You there! Uh, Sergeant-Major Wheeling! You were in ‘Nam, Laos, and Cambodia! You’re just the guy I need that won’t play stupid games with our soldier’s lives! You in?”

(Wheeling) “I’m in! I won’t disappoint you or Non, man. Won’t disappoint the troops like McNamara, Clifford, and Laird did.”

(President Delvecchio) “I believe you. Step on down and get yourself in the system.”

(Wheeling) “Mary, Moses, and Paul, I am officially the luckiest man on Earth. This is fuckin’ insane! Two days ago I was scrounging through a Salvation Army container for fresh underwear, and spending three hours in line for a soup kitchen meal. 48 hours, and blam, whammo, I’m the Secretary of Defense!”

(Attorney General Mickelson) “Equally lucky men have risen up to high places, especially back in the Revolution, the Civil War, and World War 2. Welcome to the club.”

(Mickelson walks over to shake Wheeling’s hand, the Joint Chiefs in the room follow suit. As Wheeling’s handprint and name become fully acknowledged by the National Command Authority’s system, Phase Four of Non’s plan begins.)

(SecHS Non) “Eydis, come with me. We need to talk.”

(Eydis) “Verily.”

(Non holds her by the wrist, calmly guiding her to an enclosed privacy phone booth. Eydis leaves her shield and sword outside, as they both get in. Non can barely reach the window-frosting button on account of the tight fit for the both of them. Eydis gets to the side of Non, knowing full well that he knows that she would feel his pressing erection if they were face-to-face. Once the window-frosting is done, no outsider can see anything inside save for their feet and ankles.)


(SecHS Non) “Angel, can you sense if this booth’s bugged?”

(Eydis) “I can. Wait one moment. ......Quite fortunate, we are safe to speak in here.”

(SecHS Non) “Amazing! Well, I did it! I got into the Cabinet! It would’ve taken me hours to get that digital worm virus to grant me access to the Gold Codes, trick TACAMO’s systems into thinking that I was the President. Now I can shave a few hours off our timetable. We’ve got a best-case scenario, my confidence is QUITE high. Phase Four is about to start, Delvecchio’s about to execute War Plan Pink. Are you ready? There’s still a significant chance that this could go wrong. They have no idea about the Kuiper Protocols or OPUS-32, but Palmieri’s here, and she ALMOST gave out the secrets when she started going on about Yankee-Kaleidoscope. She was supposed to be at Raven Rock! But! Everyone else is still none-the-wiser, for now.  I can still pin this all on Chesterfield if it doesn't work. I’m not really one for improvising, didn’t actually plan for any of our backups being here at the White House, but I know what to do with her. Get ready to signal the others, we’re just about to start Phase Five too. All I need is a safe ride out of here!”


(Eydis) “You shall need one soon. I can sense that the Traitor Hero is getting ready to assault this palace. His presence grows stronger and stronger by the minute. But what shall we do with Matsuda and Plains-Flower? As small of a chance as it would seem, there is still the possibility that they could tip the scales in favor of their true masters. I shall speak to the Congresswoman very soon, as her presence is a blessing in disguise. If you are caught and incubized before my revenge is fulfilled, then my close proximity will give her the protection needed to quickly finish what we have started.”

(SecHS Non) “You have a point, but that’s not my plan for her. We’ll deal with Plains-Flower as a group, and I’ve got something aside for Matsuda. To keep up our act, I’ll have to stay in the background. Can’t make a scene to have myself authenticate the War Plan in that room, and I can’t be the last person to speak up. Either one could tip off the others to the existence of Phase Five. I’ve got to make it look like it’s a spur-of-the-moment improvisation, instead of being another step towards something greater. Let’s stand back, watch Delvecchio and Hamlets play their parts. Once that’s done, you’ll pretend to ‘detect something odd in Plain-Flower’s soul,’ then we’ll deal with him. I’ll play along, pretend that me and Matsuda had suspected him, but had no solid evidence. I’ll take Matsuda to another room for a ‘private conversation’, then kill her on account of ‘just now discovering’ that she and Plains-Flower were working together. Make it look like she was about to attack me.”

(Eydis) “A plan most inspired, dear Secretary! If only I had met a man of your cunning before The Order was beyond saving. The Ultimate Traitor would have hardly lasted a decade, had he pitted his mind against yours when there was still a possibility to turn the tide against Royal Makai. Before Lescatie fell. A thousand damnations to those pathetic excuses for Heroes that the Noscrim heir and Fullmoon revealed themselves to be, in that Kingdom’s darkest hour. I had half a mind to slit their precious Elt’s throat when I came upon him afterwards. Had YOU been there? Druella would not have had a chance to divide-and-conquer that land. Not before being discovered, and her manipulations foiled. However, without the layers of secrecy that Earth’s communication machines can create, it is also likely that she would have become aware of your brilliance, and moved to incubize you first. But those mistakes will be rectified in totality very soon. And.....very well, I shall trust that you know what to do with Palmieri. Now that we concur, let us see to your President. And see to whether General Hamlets has our master-stroke ready, or not.”

(SecHS Non) “We’re ready, all right. Let’s get out and set the stage, my dear. While I get rid of Matsuda, use your healing magic to take a look at Arnold Wheeling. He’s old, and was living in complete squalor before today. He saved me from a Dark Mage without me even asking. The least we can do is to fix him up.”

(Non leaves the booth first, followed by Eydis, who nods in agreement with the request to take a look at Wheeling. Bumping into DNI Davis, who had just been at his own workstation generating the daily Gold Codes, the three of them return to the conference room to find that three of the television screens are online. One screen displays a US Navy officer and an aide sitting alone in what appears to be personal quarters, as a small display of words on the bottom right edge of the screen, indicates that this is Commander M. Hendricks of NIGHTWATCH.)


(Another screen displays a near-shellshocked Senator Roquefort, pro tempore President, as he sits in a darkened room, as a Minuteman-III silo’s emergency red lights flash in the hallway to the right of him. As he quietly mutters to himself about how if he had known that he’d have to shoot alien kids, he wouldn’t have run to represent Wisconsin. He tries his best to avoid looking at the top right corner of his screen. The live feed from that corner is replicated in the main TV screen of the PEOC, where the conference room’s occupiers can see several people similar to them in yet another conference room; the display on this screen indicates that the feed is coming from Air Force One.)

(Marroquin) “Non! ‘Freyja’, there y’all are! We’re still trying to patch Looking-Glass in. Dupree here is also trying to reach out to INDOPACOM and SOUTHCOM. As of right now, every other UCC has been confirmed to be defeated or compromised. Everyone here’s cleared & identified.”


(USN Commander Hendricks) “Not completely, sir. STRATCOM’s still online. Offutt’s only had a few perimeter skirmishes, but we need to act fast. We’ve still got Bellevue under control, but all of Omaha’s city authorities have all gone dark, outside of Offutt’s safe zone that is. That dumb-fuck governor thinks he can keep Lincoln locked down until the nukes fly. Offutt got lucky, had a ton of infiltrators, but they all got wasted about an hour before the invasion fully kicked off. One of the aliens FUBAR’d at trying to snag the head of their base security.”

(General Hoboken) “Benson’s hoggin’ as much of the Nebraska NG as he can, but tell the folks at Offutt that there’s still hope. I already sent the word out to Iowa and Missouri, told ‘em to reinforce STRATCOM with everything they can afford. How’s our North Atlantic fleet doing?”

(Hendricks) “With the loss of the Pentagon, whatever’s left of ANTFLT’s brass is scattered across the whole ocean. We’re still in contact with Admiral Curtin, who’s assumed command for the time being out of the Gerald S. Ford. He’s got Carrier Strike Group Twelve, but they’ve lost their entire destroyer escort, except for the Nitze. Strike Group Two is hauling ass to Iceland, Strike Group Eight is still trying to help hold onto New York City and Long Island, SG Ten is on it’s way to the Azores for a rendezvous with the Sixth Fleet and whatever’s left of NATO’s naval forces. ESG-2 is completely scattered all over the Gulf of Mexico and Caribbean, Surface Squadron-14’s been split between holding onto Jacksonville, the other half is meeting with the San Antonio and Kearsarge, to hold onto the Panama Canal.”
 
“We have no fuckin’ idea what the Brits are doing, other than us getting a memo that Bermuda was safe for refuelings. All of our nuke-loaded submarines have been scattered across the seven seas, as per Admiral Johnson’s orders before the monsters got him at the Pentagon. LCSRON-2 got caught off guard, they’ve lost every ship except for the Indianapolis and Little Rock, They’re on the way to assist the Coast Guard at Galveston. New Orleans and Tampa are complete write-offs, but everything from Gulfport to Pensacola is still a safe zone, along with Fort Myers.”

“On a bright note, the Pacific Fleet’s not doing so bad. Honolulu is also still green, and there’s been an unexpected volcanic eruption at The Big Island that’s significantly slowed the alien advance there. About 29 minutes ago, Kīlauea blew up on a VEI-4 scale. That means it’s almost as bad as the 1980 Mt. Saint-Helens eruption. Confidence is high in that this was probably an alien geological tampering that backfired. I’ve also received a report that Lockheed-Martin’s experimental laser on the LCS Little Rock went and deep-fried a Lilim that was fucking around at Cape Canaveral. Anybody else got anything to report?”

(Palmieri stands up from her seat)

(Palmieri) “I’ve been trying to contact NORAD through civilian channels instead of military ones. Made some calls out to my fellow congressmen, the ones that represent Colorado and Utah.”

(General Hamlets) “And? They said they had everything under control when I was still at the Pentagon.”

(Palmieri) “And then they lost control. I managed to contact Governor Fuentes, he’s safe. Peterson AFB got overrun, but the survivors managed to regroup, and they’re doing well at keeping a hold onto the Air Force Academy near Colorado Springs. Most of the NCOs went to the Academy, but almost all the commissioned people went to Cheyenne Mountain. Fuentes said that thirty-six minutes ago, the Academy received a message requesting broken-arrow airstrikes on everything within two miles of Cheyenne Mountain’s entrance. Then eleven minutes ago, they received an informal message. Some brigadier general had barricaded himself in the deepest sub-basement. Said he had just triggered the self-destruct, then an earthquake happened.”

(If General Hamlets could sweat icicles, he would have done so, right as Palmieri finished speaking.)

(Palmieri) “Hamlets, it looks like you’ve got something to say. By all means, speak up.”

(Hamlets) “He, uh, well, that is, he…. Oh God. He activated the four-megaton nuclear warhead we keep in the lowest sub-basement. I had it installed there after Non briefed us on how easily humans could be brainwashed and mutated. Since it was in the deepest underground room in the complex, the explosion wouldn’t do any major damage or irradiation to anything outside of the mountain. Got the idea from the first alternate universe episode of Stargate SG-1. ”

“‘And now, I would like to blow us all to Hell.’ Hahaha. Well, that’s just FUCKING great. Goddammit, my family was at Cheyenne. With NORAD now an ashpile, that would make us NORTHCOM now. And with Peterson gone, that would mean SPACECOM’s authority now falls to Marston and y’all up in Air Force One.”

(Palmieri) “Hamlets, calm down. Your family is safe and sound at the Academy, except… they got Alice. A sniper at the Academy spotted her chasing some guy down out in the Colorado Springs suburbs. They turned her into some kind of fairy, but she hasn’t changed in height.”

(Eydis) “She’s a Titania now. A leader of a group of fairies.”

(As General Hamlets sinks into his chair to mourn his daughter, a Space Force Chief Master Sergeant named Ellis, stands up in Air Force One’s conference room, holding a paper full of notes for her report.)

(CMS Ellis) “Other than our satellites also detecting the eruption at Hawaii, we’ve also noticed other unusual ongoing seismic activity. Stromboli erupted eight days ahead of schedule, Paricutin’s erupted again, assumed dormant until last night at 10:24 PM, and the San Andreas Fault Line had a shift, but it’s just a 4.7 on the Richter Scale, unusual, but not catastrophic. Not yet, at least. There’s been scattered eruptions all over the Ring of Fire, especially at Mount Fuji and Mount Redoubt. Three separate eruptions across the Kamchatka Peninsula, all within five minutes of each other. Fuji went kablooey on a VEI-4 scale, but the lava flow appears to be going in the opposite direction of downtown Tokyo. Redoubt’s gone full Vesuvius, but the ash cloud is going straight north, so Anchorage’ll be fine. Permission to speak freely, Mister President?”

(Delvecchio) “Permission granted, Sergeant Ellis.”

(Ellis) “After conflating data that we’ve acquired from the NOAA, NASA, and the USGS folks down in Hawaii and Mexico, we’ve come to a conclusion that the mass-appearance of portals are causing quite a… fucky-wucky…. with our planet's mantle. Did these assholes really think there wouldn’t be a consequence to ripping open a ton of point A-to-B holes in the fabric of reality, space, and time?”

(Senator Douglas) “Now, before any of you call me a schizo lunatic, just hear me out first. These aliens are unintentionally causing volcanic eruptions, right?”

(Ellis) “Yes, sir. From information we’ve gleaned from folks behind enemy lines in Hawaii, Anchorage, and Yokohama, we know that the invaders didn’t cause the eruptions on purpose.”

(Senator Douglas) “Then listen up, because a theory just popped in my mind. The upper brass of these aliens openly admit themselves to be demons and devils. And what is the classical depiction of Hell, if not a series of magma tubes? Oh, okay, here comes the eye-rolling, but lemme finish! I’m not some fire-and-brimstone preacher, I know that there’s lava tubes on the Moon and Mars too, but here’s my theory. Everything’s got an opposite and equal reaction, right? Newton’s third law. Now we also know that the Mamono aren’t aliens in the usual sense, they’re technically invaders of the extra-universal type, rather than extra-terrestrial. I think that these eruptions are…. our universe’s way of having a negative feedback reaction to another universe spilling in! It’s feeding off our collective conscience New-Age shit, And it’s slowly, but surely, turning parts of Earth into an ACTUAL Hell on Earth! It’s our reality’s way of being unable to recognize Kenkou’s demons and devils as being different from OUR idea of demons and devils! To take a phrase out from Donald Rumsfeld, Royal Makai thinks we’re an unknown-known, but their demonic energy is poking at astrophysical unknown-unknowns that could do some serious mayhem!“

(Ellis) “Sir, that is fucking GENIUS! Sounds like the best theory so far. But what do YOU think, angel-lady?”

(Eydis) “My name is Freyja, and I currently cannot disprove the Senator’s astute observation. It is quite possible that he is completely correct, and it is now even MORE imperative that you all activate your weapons of mass destruction, before this string of eruptions reaches your Yellowstone Caldera!”

(Halberstram) “Sweet baby Moses, she’s right! If these seismic anomalies hit Rainier, we could lose Seattle. 
If it hits the Juan De Fuca plate, we lose California, Baja, and a good chunk of Oregon and Nevada too. And if it hits Yellowstone? Then every living being between Waco and Juneau had better kiss their ass goodbye…. Delvecchio, we ready to launch or what? Shit-clock’s tickin' even faster!”

(Delvecchio) “Sit your ass down, agent! We’re still getting Vice-President Roquefort logged into the NCA, we need time to generate his Gold Codes, and we’re holding on until we can reach Looking-Glass!”

(Dupree) “Forget about Looking-Glass, sir. They’re gone. Went through their cameras, they’ve been taken. There’s about thirty space-bitches that look like wasps and bees, and they’ve taken the whole plane, except for the cockpit. I’m going to put them on speaker right now.”

(As he puts his phone in the center of the conference table, the exasperated voice of one young man fills the room, while the muffled screaming and panicking of another joins in the background.)

(Pilot) “I repeat! This is Captain Wesson of Looking-Glass, and WE. ARE. OVERRUN! We’re safe and pressurized in the cabin, but if someone doesn’t do something, we’ll have to eject, and then the plane is theirs! They already found the self-destruct’s manual override! Whadda’ we do?!”

(Marston) “Captain, this is Chief of Space Ops Marston, here at the White House! Listen here and listen good, son! Where the hell are you, and what’s your current altitude?

(Wesson) “We’re currently passing right over Tucson! Altitude is at three-thousand and fourteen feet above sea level! Gotta be barely one thousand feet off the ground though! We’re not going too fast, I slowed us down to two-hundred and fifty-six MPH, and we are now upside-down! These mutant alien freaks have wings though, so that didn’t do shit!”

(Delvecchio) “Captain, this is your Commander-in-Chief! The last one and the Veep are dead, I used to be Speaker of the House Delvecchio, you recognize my voice, son?”

(Wesson) “Y-yes sir, I do! I’ve seen you on TV before! What are our orders?”

(Delvecchio) “Captain Wesson, I am ordering you to turn the plane rightside-up again, and I want you to go top-speed ramming into the side of the nearest mesa or mountain you can find! Hurry it up before they manage to break into your plane’s systems and lock us out of the nukes! We’re all counting on you, Captain, but remember to have your survival rifle ready right after your ejection seat’s parachute deploys! Those bogeys might be able to get out of the plane before it’s too late. What happened to your fighter escorts?”

(Wesson) “I’m sorry, sir. We ran out of fuel and had to land in Salt Lake City. Mormon pieces of shit turned on us, tried to drag us all out of the plane and hand us over to the alien big shots. So we took off with half a fuel tank, but a ton of insect monsters had already snuck in from the luggage door! Our F-35 escorts ditched us for Nellis, once it was down to me and Torres here. But I heard the order loud and clear sir. I’m gonna plow this sumbitch right into Mount Lemmon’s south face! A-are we gonna launch using NIGHTWATCH, sir?”

(Delvecchio) “That we are, son. You keep those bugs out of the system, I’ll get you the whole Times Square ticker-tape experience.”

(Wesson) “That’s if there’s a Times Square left after the fat lady sings. Either way, me and Torres’ll steer clear of any cities for a week. Good luck, White House! We’ll see you on the other side. Wesson, out.”

(Delvecchio) “I knew it. Senator Milicent warned me, oh he warned me about Mormons. Sneaky little cult fuckwits. More goddamn traitors. And I want the names of the pilots that were running escort duty! If they survive this, I’m going to personally put them on C-SPAN for live dishonorable discharges! Non! What’s the highest yield long-range missile we’ve got?”

(SecHS Non) “That would be the W83 warhead sir, besides that custom one that took out NORAD. One-point-two megatons of instant sunshine. Would have had bigger ones in the stockpile, but that pussy Reagan ruined everything with the START treaties. God, am I glad that the last one already expired. Your predecessor refused to restart production of the nine-megaton W53’s, and I know you remember how his veto on the new W93 warheads succeeded. At least we were able to pull another three-hundred Minuteman-III’s out of mothballs in the last year. That brings us to about four-hundred ICBMS, and I wasn’t able to get a full report from the Chief of Naval Ops about the status of their SLBMs, but the last memo I got about two months ago had put us at exactly four-hundred and eight Trident-II missiles ready to rock. It’s too late for us, but at least the Russians went all in on rearming their own arsenal. I still don’t want to believe that there’s a good chance that the Kremlin’ll save the human race, but it’s true nevertheless.”

(Delvecchio) “Can we re-target any missiles? I’m going to make sure that Salt Lake City pays for this… treachery. Dammit, that sounded wayyyy too pompous. Strike that line from the record.”

(SecHS Non) “On the large scale? We’re well out of time to reprogram any nuclear operational plans. But since we’ve got Roquefort on the line, he can just walk over to the silo’s launch room, then use his key and Gold Code to give those technicians the clearance to reset the missile’s trajectory to SLC. It’s a Minuteman-III, so it’s a MIRV. That means we’ve got three warheads per missile, which in turn means that we’ll be giving SLC three-point-six megatons of pain. Are you still willing to do this?”

(Delvecchio) “I am. Ain’t no room for fertility cults against the kind of threat we’re facing. Consider the entirety of Utah…. expendable. Roquefort, make it so. Once you’ve gotten the trajectory changed, fire at will.”

(Roquefort salutes everyone, then dashes out into the hallway for the silo’s control center. Dupree cuts the feed.)

(Delvecchio) “NIGHTWATCH, inform me when Roquefort gets that done. And you folks and AFOne, how much fuel do you guys have left? And what’s your current altitude? ‘Freyja’ here says that as long as you stay above the natural breathing height, you should be clear of any intruders.”

(Hendricks) “We’re cruising at forty-thousand feet above sea level, somewhere over west Texas, and we still have about another four days of fuel left. If there’s a chance we need fuel, we’ll go down to twenty-seven thousand feet to get some from a KC-130. How’re you folks at Air Force One doing?”

(Ellis) “We’re at forty-one thousand feet above sea level, over Lake Huron. Air Force Two didn’t make it off of the Andrews tarmac, but there’s still ten E-6 Mercurys in the air, ready to coordinate the nuclear triad. I’ve already advised them about the altitude restriction. We’ve got a little over two days and six hours before we need to rendezvous with a fuel tanker ourselves. Since the aliens took their sweet time to infest our civilian pop centers before taking us on, all the still-active Mercurys were fully fueled before deployment. We’re all ready to rock n’ roll.”

(Hendricks) “Sir, Looking-Glass is now inactive, transponder confirms that Captain Wesson crashed it into Mount Lemmon. Authority has passed to us here at NIGHTWATCH. Just activate the Football, and we can bounce the message off to the Mercurys. Air Force One, is your comms suite fully staffed and operational?”

(Ellis) “It is.”

(Hendricks) “Once you get the signal, bounce it off the satellites to the Navy. I mean the ENTIRE Navy.”

(Ellis) “Affirmative, it will be done.”

(Hendricks) “Mister President, it’s time. Roquefort just launched. Salt Lake City’s got seven minutes left to exist.”

(Willemsen) “Fuck ‘em. About eighty-five percent of all Mormons are on the REX-84 list anyways.”

(Delvecchio) “May those polygamist wack-a-doodles burn. Alright. Davis! Get the Gold Codes out.”

(The President places his hands on the Football’s keyboard. The main screen now on, it requests a choice of whether to select a Major Attack Option, Selected Attack Option, or Limited Attack Option. Delvecchio selects the Major Attack Option, giving him a massive list of nuclear strike plans. In alphabetical order, he scrolls down to ‘W’, where he finds War Plan Pink. Selecting it, it requests his Gold Code before proceeding further.)

(Delvecchio) “Alright, I remember watching The Sum Of All Fears. Gimme my card and tell me which code it is.”

(Director of National Intelligence Davis pushes through the crowded room to hand him his Gold Code card)

(Davis) “Here, sir. Just like that movie, third number down from the top.”

(The POTUS takes it, reading the code. He enters 00270608 into the computer, then hits the Enter key. A pleasant click of positive authentication rings out, as the computer now asks for two more Gold Codes. Delvecchio straightens his back to look Davis right in the eyes.)

(Davis) “Hey, don’t look at me, I’m no Cabinet Secretary. Jackson, you’re closest.”

(Jackson slowly nods in approval, as Delvecchio passes the Football across the conference room table to the Secretary of Transportation. As Davis hands him his card, Jackson begins sweating metaphorical bullets, along with using his other hand to make three Hail Marys.)

(Jackson) “Mary, Mother of God, please forgive me for what I must do.”

(Davis) “Bottom code.”

(Jackson puts his hand over his mouth, trying to maintain his composure. He types out 02702104, then the Enter key. Another click of positive authentication later, and he passes it down to Secretary of Energy Jamison.)

(Jamison) “Begorrah. This, this is heavy. Heavy shit. Huh. Guess it’s down to me then. Not how I expected the highlight of this week would go, but it’s looking like it’ll be the highlight of me life. Let’s rock-et. The code, Davis?”

(Davis) “Fifth from the bottom.”

(Jamison enters 02701018 into the system. Pressing the Enter key afterwards, a small message appears, requesting that the keys be turned. The flat areas to the right and left of the Football’s touchpad push away, revealing three keys and locks. Jamison stands up, taking the secondary Football and placing it in-between the President and Secretary of Transportation Jackson. Jamison grabs the key on the furthest right, Delvecchio grabs the left one that’s closer to the touchpad, and Jackson grabs the final key, his hand shaking as if he had Parkinsons.)

(Jamison) “Non, boyo. What’s the procedure now?”

(SecHS Non) “You’ve only got one shot. An incorrect key placement will lock out the Football, and trigger three pounds of Semtex-90 explosives that’re under the keyboard. So don’t screw this up, or everyone in this room except ‘Freyja,’ is going to die. The procedure is to put them in the opposite placement from where the keys were. Jamison, take the furthest left lock. Delvecchio, you take the middle lock. Jackson, take the furthest right. You can do this. Stephen, I believe in you. We’ve got a literal holy woman in this room, and she believes in all of us. It’s got to be done, man. It’s our only hope. We tried everything to talk them out of this, but Royal Makai refused to listen to reason. If we don’t stop them now, then the armies of darkness are gonna march all over the face of the Earth. And then once they’ve sucked us dry, they’ll find ANOTHER world full of suckers and do it all over again. We can’t keep passing the buck. The Order in Kenkou did that to keep an iron grip on their kingdoms, kept playing softball until the Mamono had snowballed big enough to be unbeatable, and now it’s our problem! And we’ll be making this into someone else’s even BIGGER problem if we don’t do something about it, right here, right now! This is the motherfucking White House, Steve! THE BUCK. STOPS. HERE! “

(Eydis) “Turn that key, Secretary! Or so help me, I will carve your hand off and turn that key myself.”

(Jackson) “ALRIGHT ALREADY! I’LL DO IT, DAMN YOU! But I’m not letting my family die so an omnicidal Valkyrie gets her personal interplanetary revenge scheme pulled off! They’re gonna get a chance! The chance that we don’t deserve!”

(He pulls his phone out with his other hand, quickly swiping the emergency call option. Remembering that his wife tends to leave her phone around the house, he calls his oldest child.)

(Jackson) “Ruby? Ruby, it’s Dad. You okay? Did-did the aliens find you? I’m not gonna hurt you if they did, baby. Daddy loves you, and I love you no matter what. But right now, Daddy’s got to do something. I’ve gotta bring the hurt on the aliens, because they’ve hurt a lot of people, and they’re gonna keep hurting people until there’s no more people left. Where are you? Ok, that’s great. That’s PERFECT! Get Mommy and Eddy, and tell them that I told you it’s a ‘Code Red’ emergency. Is Agent Billy with you? Give him the phone, honey. I need to ask him something. Bill? Code Trinity, I repeat, Code Trinity. I’m trapped at the White House. Get my family to Mount Weather. We’re about to literally go ballistic. Get your family too. I’ll see you later, bro.”

(He ends the call and puts his phone back in his suit pocket.)

“That was my FEMA liaison. My folks should be able to make it to Mount Weather within ten minutes. There’s a helicopter on the roof and they’re just a few miles west in Winchester, holed up in a police station. May God have mercy on us, and may our descendants forgive us.”

(Eydis) “They will forgive you. And historians of the next age will vindicate what you are about to do.”

(Jackson) “I hope you’re right. Okay, I’ll do the countdown to turn. Ready? Three! Two! One!”





“Suppose they planned a war, and everybody stayed home
They'd fall apart, and that would start frustration to the bone
They gave a war, nobody came, imagine all the fuss!
They'd have to send themselves instead of sending us!”
-John Paul Larkin


LINK TO PART FOUR : https://www.4binz.org/453