Setting
- 36 posts here • Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2
Aisa looked forward to where Russian was, an outline indicating him in her vision. her processor automatically began calculating likely paths.
Russian on the other hand located a bar and breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally a bar! Time to get a drink." With that said he entered the bar and took a seat and ordered a drink.
And so they were waved through.
Walking alongside Haladriel, Aisa continued to scan nearby individuals for medical issues and data, though if none stood out with conditions more serious than Haladriels current psychological distress, she would ignore them as by her Triage Programming.
Russian sat down at the bar drinking from his first cup of regular beer. He was going to get a stronger drink but this drink was so he could think. "Lets see here...If I am going to get more contracts I have to get the word out. Of course I can resort to stealing from people but I am not going to stoop that low for some money. Maybe I can get hired by some army type figures, they pay big bucks for jobs." He thought to himself.
Aboard the aircraft.
"-procedures for that?" Taylor says, looking down at his control panel, then back up as he notices a lack of light. "What the frakkin hell is this?" He says to himself, utterly confused. "Base? You there? What the hell just happened?" He tries to comm his aircraft carrier, unknowingly in vain. He tries over and over to reach AC-226, his fighter flying almost silently under the night sky.
This is the broadcasted signal.
"This is Charles Taylor, pilot and member of Aircraft Carrier 2-2-6. I am in need of assistance. My fuel is running low and my Positioning System is not able to tell me where I am. My compass has switched directions from what it was 52 seconds ago, and I have not made any deviations from a straight line. I do not know where I am. I am in need of assistance."

Alongside Charles Taylor's unidentified aircraft, moved two radar signatures that seemed to move faster than any known aircraft, once alongside his plane, they wouldn't resemble any known aircraft design, or have any known markings.
There was one on each side, on the left, and the right side, their identification lights flickering as one of the aircraft began transmitting a simple binary message that could be translated by even the simplest of computers to text.
"Identification, and point of origin."
Each Type 99 Cosmo Falcon was armed with two 7.62mm machineguns, six 30mm autocannons that were capable of linked, and alternate fire, as well as missile hardpoints, and sophisticated avionics. However what set these particular aircraft apart from Taylors, was that they were capable of going into space.
Every three seconds, the binary transmission repeated.
Below, the cloud cover gave way, and blackness slowly began to turn into a dazzling cityscape below, with massive neon billboards, and flickering holographic advertisements.
The cityscape stretched for as far as the eye could see.

"Identification, Lt. Charles Taylor, Aircraft FT-28, United States Naval Air Force. Origin, US Aircraft Carrier 2-2-6, Southern Atlantic Ocean. I mean no harm. I am lost.
And then he breaks the clouds, seeing not a reflection of the moonlight on the ocean far below, but many lights, the lights of a city, where there used to be just water, as far as the eye could see.
And in that moment, he recalls a story from his childhood, one of a person being taken away from all they found familiar. He remembers just one phrase.
"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." he whispers.
He's started sweating, as he feels that what little training he had gone through had no protocol for this. He was over open ocean not two minutes ago, and about to pull in to land on USAC 226. Jesus, where was he? He's never seen anything like this, an utterly alien city. He flinches as a massive holographic advertisement flickers in the sky not too far from him.
- 36 posts here • Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2