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[Alien Crash] Bk 01 V3.0 Ch 03 First Contact

2020.07.25 15:11 spindizzy_wizard [Alien Crash] Bk 01 V3.0 Ch 03 First Contact

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Chapter Three: First Contact

"It is a proud feeling to know that your students have such confidence that they are willing to put their scientific integrity on view for the entire world.
It is stunning when they recommend you for a position on the First Contact Team."
— Dr. Elwood Reyes / Professor / Cal Tech

Cal Tech

A group at Cal Tech set up a live stream commentary.
"Cool! Bipedal, Bilaterally symmetric. No helmet must be an oxygen breather."
"Getting great detail on the suit! Plenty of mount points for equipment, but they're all empty. I'd guess that he's come out completely unarmed."
"Friendly, then?"
"Maybe, or maybe just smart enough not to piss off the locals when you can't run away."
The commentary continues, including engineers, mathematicians, theoretical physics, biological majors, and anyone else who has a reasonable idea in the opinion of their mates.

White House

"We're getting word from the Cybers, there's a team at Cal Tech that everyone seems to think has a lot of good ideas."
"Good, contact them and ask if they want to send a team. In the meantime, get a list of what they'd like in the way of scans, and see what we can do to get them that. No radiologicals, nothing penetrating."

Cal Tech

"Guys… GUYS… HEY YOU NITWITS! Thank you. The White House is calling. They want to know what else we want in the way of scans but insist on nothing radiological or penetrating. They also want us to assemble a team to go examine in closer detail."
The room goes into riot mode.
"SIR! SIR! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! I NEED SOME HELP DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW! THEY'RE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO GO! … THANK YOU, SIR! HOW LONG? … HURRY IT, THEY'VE ALREADY BUSTED HALF THE WALLS DOWN! GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME! SORRY, SIR! GOT TO GO!" The sound of a phone missing the cradle, shouting, breaking glass, and snapping wood.

White House

"Um, Sir? Do you think it's a good idea? They've gone completely ape shit."
"They're motivated. Pick from the survivors with the best grades and opinions from their fellows. Don't pick any professors that don't have at least fifty recommendations from students."

Blackhawk: Recon: ICZ

"That's as close as I can get, Sir!"
"Thanks! We're going in!"
Tyler and Jones are seen jumping out of the helicopter past Gilford's camera. They drop into view on the craft, from Gil's perspective. The alien is seen to move his lips, but between the noise and the distance, no one can hear it. Gil himself unstraps and jumps down, steadied by Tyler and Jones. Between the camera, the battery belt, and everything else, Gilford definitely needs that help.
As soon as they're all down, the helicopter moves off to a position were the crew can watch the action. They're not armed either, beyond handguns, but if they have to, the helicopter itself can be a weapon, or a dustoff, at a moment's notice.
"Scans, check their equipment. Any weapons?"
"Crude chemical firearms presently sealed in holsters. The large shoulder device is some sort of visual broadcast system. Assume that the device is active and transmitting. Radiation from the device is commensurate with the power supply strapped to the operator. Clothing of the operator is distinctly different from the two armed individuals. Suggest operator is essentially civilian pressed into duty. Uniformity of clothing of the armed individuals suggests military. The deference to the one on your right indicates higher rank."
"Armed… Not a good sign. Still, they're making no move to draw them. My risk. No one is to show any weapon or take any action even if they discharge a weapon."
"And if they kill you?"
"I'll be dead, and in no shape to issue orders."

Tyler's Team

"He's a calm one. That's a good sign."
Jones points out a problem. "Tyler, we're still armed."
"Good point. I'm going to slowly reach for my belt, and drop the whole thing right here. Carefully. You are to take no hostile action, no matter what they do. Another team might succeed if we fail."
Gilford is a bit sour. "Thanks, Ty…"
"Don't mention it, Gil. Just keep the video running as long as you can."
"My final piece? Cool. I could live with that!"
Gil's stable now, and moves off smoothly to the alien's left, getting everyone in the view, this is a first contact, as they close up, Gil can zoom in or close manually. The shot will close in to show each of them. This is going to be so cool.

Pilot

Still uncertain of our genders, Pilot is using gender-neutral words. English, lacking widely accepted terms of that nature, we translate to the nearest equivalent.
He's moving slowly, no sudden movements, reaching for his harness. "Hold your actions. He's disarming." He watches as the leader slowly lowers his weapon harness to the deck. The native takes the same posture Pilot used when he came out, as he walks toward Pilot.
"Disarmed and peaceful posture. Do not take any action at all. Scans, Report on other activity."
"Aircraft that dropped them has moved back but is maintaining observation. Craft is essentially unarmed, although the pilots appear to have similar chemical firearms. Much activity from the impromptu base to the south, several access ways are being driven through the surrounding ground with heavy equipment. No sign of energy weapons of any sort. Many chemical firearms, some of impressive caliber. All are concentrated in the base or in a perimeter approximately five miles from our site. They appear to be primarily concerned with turning civilians away from the area.
We have cracked the broadcasts, although we do not understand the language, the visuals are clear. There is a significant portion that is behaving in what appears to be irrational anger. That is a subjective judgment. There is a smaller portion who are acting in what seems to be a reasonable manner, much vocalization over the views the operator is presently providing.
Pilot… There are also disturbing videos showing local, apparently civilian, ground craft being destroyed by the military. Those ground craft were seen to attempt to ram their way through a blockade. In more than one case, smaller representatives — possibly children — were harmed. They are treated with care and respect, but they were still harmed."
"What were the larger representatives of the ground vehicles doing?"
"Operating the vehicle in a manner that I would consider foolhardy."
"Regret for the harm to young innocents. No regret for fools."
"Understood. And agreed to."
"I'm about to make contact. Record in full detail."

Tyler's Team

"Hey, Ty! My camera has just gone wonky! All I get is static!"

Scans

"Pilot! My scans may be interfering with theirs! Reducing to purely visual scanning."

Tyler's Team

"It's cleared up, Ty!"
"Base, this is Jones, are you receiving us again?"
A crackling radio response, there's still some residual disruption, but it's fading fast. "Nearly gave us a heart attack. The wide-band scanners went berserk for a few seconds like there were so many frequencies in use that nothing else could get through."

White House

"Gahhh! I don't need more reasons for heart attacks!"
"Mr. President, commentators are suggesting that some sort of powerful scan was used, that interfered with the operation of the camera, and radios for that matter."
"Jesus. Okay… Get the inner HQ on the line. I'd appreciate it if they would send up more observers, kept at a series of distances from the craft. The idea is to first see what's going on at a wider view, and second, to try and keep visual contact with our intrepid trio."
"Mr. President, the inner HQ is already making those adjustments now."

Scans

"Pilot, I am detecting more craft of the same nature as the one which dropped them off. They are taking up observation positions at increasing distances. Pilot… Some of them are definitely armed."
"Has the translation computer made any progress?"
"Limited. We have to make guesses to feed into it, along with the video and audio. There are also short segments of otherwise unrelated material that we do not understand at all."
"Continue work. I will meet the leader."

Tyler's Team

"Gil? Good visuals?"
"Yes! Historical, or is that hysterical, first contact with alien species. CWO Tyler in the lead!"

Cal Tech

There is a sudden pause in the free-for-all. This gives time for the police sent along with the military officials to separate the combatants.
"WHO THE HELL IS TYLER!?"

Mainstream Media

"And here it is! James Tyler, Specialist Radar Operator, HEY! That can't be right! He's wearing Chief Warrant Officer rank tabs!"
Off-Screen: "Confirmed, promoted for this mission."

Cal Tech

"WHY HIM?!?"

Mainstream Media

"Tyler is an excellent observer, with a remarkably good assessment of the aliens. He:
Recognized that the craft was not hostile.
Recognized that they were about to accelerate and gave the order to get our aircraft out of the way, saving many brave men's lives. (Inter-cut video of Alpha flight turning away from the craft just before it accelerated.)
And provided such useful information and advice to the Alpha Flight leader, that he has had several commendations already. (Shot of Alpha Flight leader on his way into debriefing talking loudly with his second in command, "Tyler did a great job!")
A brilliant young man with a bright future ahead of him, now making First Contact with an alien species!"

Tyler's Team

Tyler gives the traditional astronaut's prayer.
"Dear Lord, please don't let me screw the pooch!"
"You'd better not, and watch your language, we're on national television."
"Thanks, Gil, no stress, right?"
"None at all."

Pilot

The approach continues, we are now quite close enough to see each other. From the limited visuals I have seen, this would appear to be a young … male? Yes. Male.
They appear friendly, and I have given orders for no action to be taken regardless of what happens to me. Of course, if I'm dead, I'm in no shape to give any orders. What happens then? Will depend on what happened to me.

Tyler's Team

"I don't know, but I think I'm getting a 'male' vibe off of 'him'. I'll go with male pronouns, for now, anyone having problems with that are welcome to make their comments… later! Obviously military for a bunch of reasons, and not just because he's on a warship. We're closing with each other, both of us have our arms outstretched."

Pilot

He's obviously talking, I would suppose that the visual transmission includes audio. "Scans, include the video feed from the camera to the translation computer. We have a far better idea what's going on here than over their broadcast system."
"Agreed, and working. … We're getting better results now. … Initial comment by subordinate is a reminder to the leader that they are armed. Leader … Yes, the leader orders no action regardless of the consequences to him. … Some … badinage? … between the leader and the operator. Suggest they are known to each other before this event. Leader and subordinate have worked together, but the relationship is not as complex as that between observer and leader. Subordinate is carrying extensive communications gear, which appears to be encrypted, and frequency hopping. Definitely a military-style comms, even if it is still using (translation, the phrase is mildly derogatory) radio waves."
"Be nice, Scans, we're here for a very long time. Keep that in mind."

Tyler's Team

"I'm close enough now to make out detailed features, not bad. I'm going to try lowering my arms, this is getting stiff."
Tyler slowly lowers his arms, letting them sink to a normal resting position. The alien matches his movement. They stand and stare at each other.
"Welcome to Earth."

Pilot

"Pilot: seems to be opening statement inviting us to … dirt? No, Earth their planet name."
I choose to execute a slight bow. "Scans, reverse translate 'Thank you'."

Tyler's Team

A mechanical voice, "Thank you."
Tyler returns the bow, "You are welcome. You have a translator?"

Pilot

"Translation, extending further welcome including concept of replying to your statement. Translator working for some degree of communication. Subsequent statement is query… uncertain of last word."
"Scans, assume that it is 'translator', opinion?"
"90% probability."
"Translate 'yes'."
"Dangerous, we might be agreeing to something we will regret."
"Still…"

HQ: ICZ

"Sir! Radar is tracking light aircraft approaching alien craft from altitude! Looks like a dive bomb profile! No way is he going to pull up!"
"WARN THE TEAM! CAP! TAKE DOWN THAT AIRCRAFT!"
Rapid communications, the nearest craft that could intercept in time is one of the armed helicopters.

Tyler's Team

The same mechanical voice, "Yes."
"TYLER! DOWN! DOWN! DOWN! INCOMING AIRCRAFT ATTACK!"
"SHIT!" I hope he understands!
Tyler is seen tackling the alien and covering him with his own body. Everyone else on the team dives behind whatever cover they think will do them any good. Gilford is crouched, scanning around the sky, looking for the incoming craft.
"PILOT! ARE YOU OKAY!"
"Affirmative! This is not an attack, they are all taking cover. Scan surrounding!"
"Scanning … Light craft approaching at high speed, estimate attack. Large quantity of chemical explosives aboard. Armed craft previously identified as observers are accelerating. Weapons going active. Scans going active. Estimate 90% defensive move. DO NOT FIRE, REPEAT DO NOT FIRE, ALLIES IN CLOSE PROXIMITY!"
The remaining gun positions on the craft could have destroyed the light aircraft, but only at the cost of extreme collateral damage. The amount of explosives on the aircraft is a danger to exposed crew, but not to the ship.
"TYLER! I CAN SEE IT! I'VE GOT IT ON CAMERA! WOAH! LOTS OF BOXES STRAPPED TO CRAFT! HELICOPTERS ARE FIRING"
These are Apache AH-64, which have been armed with a variety of weapons, including Stinger air-to-air missiles. The choice is fortunate. All fixed-wing aircraft are on search mode or guarding against larger craft at higher altitudes. The seeker is a refined passive IR system that can track targets. The gunners are fortunate. There are no larger heat sources to distract the missiles. Three missiles are fired, they hit the aircraft — or what's left of it — triggering the explosives.
They are commercial grade explosives, but the people who built this were aware of the ability to use ball bearings as fragmentation. Crude, but effective.
"PILOT! DEBRIS INCOMING!"
Gilford, covered by a fortunate piece of gear extending from the surface of the alien craft is unharmed, as is Jones. Tyler is less fortunate.
"Huh! I'm hit? Yes, I'm hit. Ooooh, not good."

Pilot

"Scans! Any impacts? I felt the one on top of me jerk!"
"Confirm impacts! Native covering you is definitely injured. Body fluid leaking. No other significant impacts. Native aircraft destroyed. Gunships are hovering, facing away from us, they've taken up close guard positions."
"Prep the medbay! I'm going to bring the wounded one with me, as well as the other two, we need to get under cover." Heaving up, he quickly starts dragging Tyler into the craft, "Translate! FOLLOW ME!"

Tyler's Team

"Hey! He's taking Tyler inside!"
The mechanical voice, "COME ME!"
"HQ! We've been invited in! May lose contact, will attempt to contact every 15 minutes. No guarantees. Per Tyler's directive, TAKE NO HOSTILE ACTION! Gilford! Follow Me!"
"Hot Damn! Inside views! Recording!"
As they run to the entry, Jones takes up more of Tyler's weight, moving everyone faster into the alien craft. Once inside, the alien shifts grip on Tyler, bringing him into a more workable position for navigating the craft. Fortunately, there is an aid station near the cargo area. As they enter, they see many pallets of equipment. Mostly unknown. Gilford is sweeping everything in rapid arcs, trying to stay up with the others, and still get good video. The further in they go, the worse the signal becomes. More crew are seen, some with arms, some without, and one with a larger belt pack that he is taking various items out of.
"I think this one is a medic! Hope they don't kill him by accident!"
The 'medic' has taken out a small device and runs it quickly over Tyler's body.
"Sufficient similarity for basic procedures to work. Bring him to aide station, will attempt control of bleeding and bandage wounds. Suggest contact natives for extraction to their medical facilities."
As all of this has been going on, Scans has chosen to open the translator for free flow. The results are not always what was intended.
"… station … blood … removal …"
"Jones? JONES! They're going to bleed him!"
"Tyler's orders! No offensive action regardless of consequences. Continue recording. Besides, I think that translator of theirs stinks."
Of course, that works in the other direction.
" … order … attack … offensive …"

Pilot

The armed crew are reacting to the suggestion of an attack. Pilot is screaming.
"NEGATIVE! DO NOT ATTACK! DO NOT ATTACK! THEY ARE UNARMED!"
Several armed crew already have their weapons out, but others move to knock the weapons aside. Some energy bolts are fired but hit only the interior of the craft. The energy bloom is something else.

Tyler's Team

Jones is too close to one of the beams, the energy bloom burns him across the back, causing him to drop Tyler, and fall to the deck himself. Gilford is only lightly touched but yells loudly anyway.
"STOP SHOOTING STOP SHOOTING!"
The only word that comes through is fortunate.
" … stop … stop … "
As with all good camera operators, Gilford continues operating his camera. Other crew come forward to assist carrying Tyler and Jones to the aid station. Gilford follows, uncertain if his broadcast is being seen or not.

Apache / HQ: ICZ

The specialist monitoring the video broadcast. "Shots fired! Shots fired!"
The Apache swivels in place, bringing it's sensors to bear. "HQ, thermal systems show increased temperature in multiple locations of the alien craft's surface."
Major Coyle makes a critical decision.
"NO OFFENSIVE ACTION! ALERT DUSTOFF! EXTRACTION, ALIEN CRAFT. ALL HUMANS TO BE REMOVED FROM ALIEN CRAFT. NO OFFENSIVE ACTION! ENSURE OBSERVER IS PRESENT!"
It is most definitely the best decision he could have made.

Alien Craft

"THIS IS SCANS! SINGLE CRAFT APPROACHING AT SPEED. NOT HOSTILE. NOT HOSTILE. UNARMED!"
Unfortunately, there is always someone who doesn't get the word.
A junior gunner, the sole survivor of his close-in defense gun team. "Tracking… Tracking… CLEAN SHOT!"
The declaration of not hostile did not reach him. One of the earlier wild shots took out his communications and has not yet been noticed. Fortunately for everyone, Dustoff zigged when the gunner zagged.

Dustoff

Copilot, "SHIT! THEY JUST SHOT AT US!"
Pilot, "I KNOW! STILL GOING IN!"
The pilot is well known for bravery bordering on insanity. His copilot has been with him for a long time but really doubts his judgment right now. The energy bolt cooked one side of the craft, and there are equipment warnings… It is a twin-engine craft, but they're about to lose one of those engines. Assuming it doesn't just catastrophically fail.
Copilot, "Losing left engine!"
Pilot, "cut it now and foam it!"
The engine is shut off, and the fire suppressant is activated. Fortunate for the crew, since the compressor disks would have explosively shattered within seconds. While still spinning, the reduction in stress and heat prevents catastrophic failure.
The crew is in a real pucker factor situation, the craft is wounded, the side of the helicopter they'd normally exit on is melted together, and some of the crew were slightly burned on that side. Not debilitating, but rather like getting a severe sunburn in seconds.
Pilot, "Un-ass on the right side when we're down! I'll rotate to put that side towards the opening. Don't waste time! We're going to have trouble if you do!"

HQ: ICZ

"DAMNIT!"
"SIR! SIR! DO WE RETURN FIRE?!"
"NEGATIVE!"

White House

"They shot at an evac helicopter?!?"
Chief of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Jackson. "Mr. President, I have seen panic reactions before. It always happens that someone doesn't get the word, and a shot is made that shouldn't have been. You will notice that there has been no second shot."

Alien Craft

Pilot is now screaming, "GET THAT BASTARD OUT OF HIS BLISTER AND SHOOT HIM! ON THE TOP! OPENLY!"
The older crewman is a little more cool-headed. He leads the team to open the blister, and drags the misfortunate gunner out.
"Did you hear the non-hostile declaration?"
"No, Sir!"
"You'd better hope that I find out your comms were down because if they aren't, you're dead."
Checking the comms, he confirms that they were out. It doesn't make up for the shot, but it does buy the gunner a chance.
"Gunner! You're going to be put under restraints and sent out to the locals. You will cooperate with them to the very best of your ability. If they shoot you, we will consider it a justified execution. If they don't, you might get to live when you get back on board."
The gunner is now terrified, but obedient. The alternative is immediate execution. He is placed in improvised restraints, the usual restraints being unavailable, stripped of all arms, and marched up to the surface.

Dustoff

The medical crew has jumped out with commendable speed, taking three baskets with them. As they enter on the run, the gunner is marched out, and presented at the helicopter. The Dustoff observer is covering the entire action.
"What the heck are we supposed to do with this guy?"

HQ: ICZ

"That must be the poor sucker who didn't get the word."
"Yes, Specialist, it probably is. I think they're making a peace offering. The one who screwed up to save the ship.
Send to Dustoff: Take prisoner on board, strap him down in a basket, and bring him out with the others. Try to be gentle, but if he resists, get him in that basket however you have to."

Dustoff

"Prisoner? Okay, let's see if we can get him in a basket. No place else for him."
Repeated pantomime finally gets the point across. Reluctantly, the prisoner lies in one of the baskets. When he panics at being strapped in. He's held down and strapped in any way. He continues to struggle against the straps.

Alien Craft

The Dustoff team comes running in with their stretchers. That same older crewman looks at them, and the baskets, and points to the aid station. The team lead salutes and moves on through.
The older crewman asks a question. "Scans? Purpose of arm gesture?"
"Not sure. Acknowledgment of order or indication of respect?"
In the aid station, the team is amazed to see the bleeding stopped, and the bandages holding. Knowing that Tyler has sustained blood loss, they insert an IV for normal saline. That brings the blood volume back up to something the heart can pump effectively, and Tyler's color improves. Monitoring heart rate, pressure, and other factors, they determine that the internal bleeding must have already been stopped. The team lead smiles (fortunately closed-mouthed) and nods at the medical tech who has been hovering around scanning pretty much everyone and everything in sight.
"Sodium chloride solution 9%, blood volume expander. Presumed normal being scanned, assume normal values. Compare against other scans, establish ranges. Multiple blood types, some interactions potentially severe. Decline direct transfusion without exact match. Patient one showing increased vitals, not normal, but better. Patient two is … experiencing pain? … but is relatively normal. Observer, unusual chemicals in bloodstream. Possibly fight/flight mechanism. (Nearest translation, although they have a similar mechanism, it doesn't operate quite the same way) Computer, synthesize and generate treatment for blood loss and stabilization."
The med-tech, seeing the native nod, nods back. Despite the apparent high-tech nature of the craft, the internals of the medbay are understandable. There are tables/beds to hold the patients at a height convenient for the medic. Mobile lights overhead. What might be some sort of X-Ray or fluoroscope? And a large selection of cabinetry on the walls, holding who knows what.

Dustoff

"Okay, we've got this one stabilized, how's the other one doing?"
"Pain, shock, can't tell what the burns are like the bandage gets in the way. We'll have to take him … Hey!"

Alien Medic

Ah, they need to see the wound. "Move scanner into place, display visual below bandage." The scanner moves gently into place, nudging the human tech out of the way. The display comes on. The medic moves to the scanner, demonstrates how to view deeper, and how to narrow the view for magnification.

Dustoff

"Holy… We have GOT to get one of these!" A very emphatic nod to the alien medic, who smiles back, closed mouth, and nods in return. "I've got second and possibly third-degree burns. Observer! Get over here and record this monitor." Gilford moves to record the image. The scanner is adjusted to show the full depth of the injury, and certain portions are enlarged for a detailed view.

Walter Reed / John Hopkins / Mayo Clinic

"We absolutely have to have that technology."

UTA Biomedical Engineering (University of Texas / Austin)

"How the heck did they…?"
"Improvement on the terahertz imaging systems?"
"Let's see if we can…"
"Hold up there! That's expensive..!" CRACK "Aw, shit. How are we going to explain this to the professor?"
"What do you mean? He's the one that cracked it!"

Walter Reed

"They have what? … Fine, I'll send a team down to look over their shoulders. We need that ASAP."
Replay for every significant medical institute and university in the U.S. Shortly reprised by every such institute in the world.

White House

The Secretary of Health and Human Services is having a very loud conversation with multiple other Cabinet members. "No! We are not going to restrict access to critical medical advances! Even to the Chinese! What we will do is establish a nearby center where they can observe and advise without getting in the way of the engineers." You might even call it an argument.
The President finally puts an end to it by slamming his hand down on the table.
"Gentle beings, and I use that term loosely for some of you. We are not going to hold medical technology derived from the alien's hostage to political issues. She's right. See to establishing the center. Do not interfere with their communication home. If one of them turns out to be interested in more than just medical research, gently — I say again gently — send them home; with a polite suggestion that the replacement concentrate on medical research."

Dustoff

The human team lead, having saluted the alien medic, directs the team to evacuate to the helicopter for a return to the HQ CSH. Gilford follows the team back out of the ship, covering the evacuation from the rear. The observer who came with the helicopter shooting the same scene from the front. In an unplanned but seeming synchronized move, Gilford sweeps to the side opposite the Dustoff observer, getting a cross view of the loading. Just two good cameramen making sure they get the best view of the operation.
"Hey? What's this guy doing in here?"
"Prisoner? He was turned over to us tied up. We got him in the basket, then had to keep him down while we strapped him in. He's been fighting the straps … he stopped!"
"Must have seen we brought our own out in these. I think I can understand a bit of fear in an unfamiliar environment." The lead pats the alien on the shoulder and smiles. They've been watching the aliens smile, and they have all been closed mouth. Good observation on their part. The alien relaxes a bit, and carefully smiles back.
The Dustoff observer climbs back into the helicopter.
"Med Team! Is everyone aboard?"
"Good to go, Pilot!"
"Including the observer?"
"Yes!"
"We're OUT'A here!"

D&D Meetup: Duluth, Minnesota

"Uh, guys? Did you get a good look at those aliens?"
"Who cares… We're at the boss fight, you in or out?"
"He looks like an elf."
A moment of quietness, followed by a stampede for the big monitor sometimes used for large scale multi-person gaming.
"He's right!"
"Has anyone else posted that?"
"Not that we can see!"
"WHOOHOO! FIRST!"

White House

"Mr. President, this just came in from the cyber team. A group in Duluth, Minnesota, commented that the aliens look rather like elves. The consensus is that they're correct. The images match the most common descriptions of elves. Some are arguing for Vulcans, but they're in the minority, these people do not show the characteristics for blue blood or desert adaptation."
"You don't think… "
"Mr. President, at this point, I am NOT thinking. There's too much coming in too fast. I'm just trying to keep up with the flow and bring you the tidbits that seem most important or interesting.
Mr. President, do you have any orders considering the alien prisoner?"
"First, tell the doctors to keep their fucking hands off. No intrusive procedures, not even a thermometer. You can tell he's scared out of his mind. Second, although his movement is restricted, he is not to be treated harshly. He's not your typical prisoner. Third, see if there's some way we can get him communications with the ship. At a minimum, he needs to be able to talk with higher. Ideally, he's connected to their translator, so we can start working on language. Fourth, while we suspect that he was the individual who fired the shot at the dustoff, we do not have proof that he did so; only guesses that could be wildly inaccurate. Fifth, even if he did fire the shot (a) he did not fire a second shot, and (b) there is always someone who doesn't get the word. Like that idiot with the light aircraft who caused the whole medical problem and may have poisoned the well.
He's scared. He's afraid he's going to be executed, possibly in a very unpleasant manner. He also appeared, to me, to be relatively young. Consider him a Private who's made a really, really, stupid mistake, not an enemy combatant."
"Mr. President, I will relay those orders. You know some people are going to be stupid about this too."
"If they do, you are to strip them of rank and privilege, and put them in cells where the alien can see them. His quarters will be in the same block when he is not needed elsewhere. Every time they get stupid again, … I dunno, fire hose them? Something appropriate, whatever it is."
"Mr. President? I'm trying to decide if that's genius or a recipe for disaster."

"CaSH": HQ: ICZ

The Combat Surgical Hospital has been up for a short while, already seeing injuries from inside the zone. Fortunately, none of them are severe enough to require surgery.
"Dustoff is here! Are we all prepped?"
"Yes, Sir!"
The Dustoff observer jumps out first, clearing the way and swinging around to cover the unloading. He follows the team in as far as he can.
"Okay, gunshot to bay one. Burn to bay two. Alien? What the hell do we do with an alien?!?"
"Dissect him?"
"You'd better have been joking. Stash him in bay three with a guard. A friendly guard."
The comment about dissecting the alien turns into one of the most controversial topics on every social internet site. Fortunately for the joker, he wasn't in view of the coverage, and no one was willing to step on the landmine by naming him. His punishment was already assigned, bedpan duty for the next month.

Alien Ship

Gilford, covering the evacuation, continues filming the takeoff and speed run back to HQ. When they are out of sight, he looks around. There is no one left on the top deck except some aliens, and himself.
"Aw, Shit. I'm so dead."
Placing his video camera on top of some convenient outcropping of metal, he walks in front of it. "Excuse me, but I've been left behind on the alien craft. Could someone please pick me up before I get shot for leaving Tyler? It wasn't my choice."

HQ: ICZ

"That went out live, didn't it."
"Per orders, Sir!"
Sigh "Get another dustoff out there to pick that poor sucker up. Even if we don't kill him, higher might."

Reaction

The public, in general, is laughing their heads off.
The political scene is the usual circus.
The legal scene is filing lawsuits all over the place for illegal detainment, threats of violence, and other abuses of civil rights. The court cases are going to go on forever. In some legal jurisdictions, Gilford is known entirely too well. Warrants for his arrest, seizure of his vehicle and property, and past-due bills of immense size are winging their way to the Inner Control Zone Headquarters.

White House

sigh "William? Will you please find out what orders were actually given?"

"CaSH": HQ: ICZ

"That alien doc did good work. Tyler is not bleeding internally, and the transfusions are bringing his blood volume back to normal. He may need some rehab, but he's going to live."
That little announcement makes the rounds VERY fast. Jones, on the other hand, "Hey, Doc? Can I get out of here?"
"What? You've got second and third-degree burns! Get back in that bed!"
"I feel fine. The bandage even fell off on its own."
"IT WHAT! BAY TWO! STAT!"
The medical team is … puzzled. Jones' burns have been … reduced … not eliminated. The dead skin has been debrided and covered with what appears to be some sort of transparent artificial skin. Not wishing to disturb it, they put Jones into the observation ward, and insist that he remain while they examine the healing process. There are no orders regarding him and intrusive tests. It's a very uncomfortable stay.

UTA

The original bandage, very carefully packaged, is sent to UTA's medical engineering facility by a special courier. A full military escort takes over Rte 87 and runs to Great Falls international airport. There the courier and package are placed in an F-15E Strike Eagle. With a pre-cleared flight path and no speed restrictions, it can make the flight in less than an hour. It gets there well under an hour. Everyone is suggesting tests, examinations, and anything else they can come up with to get an idea of how it works.
"We've got to get this, TOO!"
First Previous Next
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2020.03.09 17:50 fractalfay I can’t wait to touch her face: Recap of Before the 90 Days S04E03, the coronavirus edition

Welcome to the 90DF safe space for snark, coming at you from self-imposed quarantine and fever dreams and a metric fuckton of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Suffice it to say I’m still sick, but I suspect a hearty dose of the bad decisions of others will have me on the mend in no time.
And speaking of diseases, things kick off with that international criminal TLC lent a microphone to, but since we’ve already signed the petition to boot his glassy-eyed Big Little Lies mug into orbit, let’s move on to people with fewer felonies, shall we?
Usman, who is totally not a yahoo boy, is living with multiple yahoo boys in a one bedroom yahoo hut, as celebrities do. Usman #2 is so entry level he doesn’t even get his own name, and Giant is his best friend and unofficial security detail. Usman ditches the yahoos and goes out with his friends from the entertainment industry to smoke hookahs without inviting Zied. Despite an internet engagement and a song with no specific references, this team has never heard of Babygirl Lisa, since, much like Pauly Shore and Prince (RIP), Usman probably refers to all women by this name.
As further evidence of his two-year mystery relationship, Usman shows off Lisa’s Glamour Shot captured with Darcey’s upcoming app, Denial for Women. His friends pause to quickly inspect what they put in that hookah. Usman assures them that it’s not about looks, it’s about getting to America where everyone in LA is a producer.
“it’s true,” Blake interjects. “But do you know where Pennsylvania is, my friend?”
Usman tells them that she’s 49 or 50, and Lisa tells us she’s 52, so she’s probably eligible for free coffee at McDonald’s and buys food from the grocery store on senior discount Wednesdays. No word on whether he’s aware that she wants him to throw his hotdog down her hallway without the bun.
Concerned friend, Joseph (oh HI Joseph) just wants him to focus on his music, and Usman admits that she gets in the way of this, because she’s jealous of every heart and thumbs-up he receives from folks with boobs or lightly feminine names, to the point where she’s been chasing people around IG with a menacing emoji knife in her heavily-filtered hand. Someone needs to tell Lisa that some people will go after your man even if he’s fresh out of prison and 90% forehead. Seriously: these folks need to watch Love After Lockup, for research.
Usman knows that the only chance of arriving stateside is to keep this ruse in motion. “I just have to, you know, try to tolerate her,” he muses, solving the problem of what I’m going to write in this year’s anniversary card.
Usman decides to bring Giant and Usman #2 with him to pick up Baby Girl Lisa from the airport, because what’s a yahoo without his boys? Or maybe Usman’s trying to avoid a post-flight car boot and fistfight, like the one Michael didn’t enjoy that required Angela for big mouth backup. Giant asks if he can hug her like a creeper as an introduction, and Usman #1 says that a wife is for one man, while a husband is for everyone. They want to know what he’s going to do if he’s not attracted to her, and these guys really aren’t getting it.
Lisa gets off the airplane and doesn’t bother with any of that fancy whore’s bath airport business, or even an air freshener around her neck before lunging for Usman. He presents her with a red rose, and realizes that up until this point he’s only seen her from the neck up. She makes animal snarls to profess her approval for his man meat, while Usman says she has a big belly he didn’t know about, but is acceptable to him. I don’t remember this lyric from that personalized love song!
Then Usman presents Lisa to two people she’s never met before. Somewhere, Jasmin wakes up screaming. All the same, the chauffeur situation creates the opportunity for them to dry hump the entire way to the hotel, while his friends dry heave in the front. At some point a yeasty lizard tongue slithers from Lisa’s mouth and threatens to pull Usman’s head into her mouth for praying mantis purposes.
At the hotel, the yahoos help with the luggage, and Lisa sees the potential for these fools to become hotel fixtures, so she tells them to GTFO so she can destroy Usman’s genitals with her Venus dick trap in their personal room 104. Ever the diplomats, the 90DF producers ask if Usman’s looking forward to driving her down to pound town, and there’s this long, 55% pause, before he finally says, “She’s not who I’m usually attracted to, but she has lady parts, and I have man parts, you know.” This is a line from Usman’s upcoming track, “Baby Girl Lisa, I Guess You’ll Do.”
In the safety of their room, Lisa just wants him to be truly super attracted to her, because she still hasn’t figured out that she’s the one prioritizing beauty. If I’m chasing dick around at 52 years old, Goddess please give me access to mirrors and the ability to acknowledge that no one is going to look at me like I’m 22. Also, give me the time to find some flattering outfits, and a personalized skin care regime before my international tour of dicks.
Time to meet Stephanie, who has a blue acoustic guitar, and the same Youtube channel as 80% of white women on the internet. However, instead of presenting the required warbling Regina Spektor imitation while butchering a defenseless trap song, she sings a wholesome little yarn about pizza. For those of you not keeping up, pizza is the new bacon, and bacon was the new vegan, and vegan was the old mistake.
Anyway, now that we’ve all developed soy allergies, we learn that Stephanie was born in the Czech Republic. When she first arrived in the US of A she didn’t speak a lick of English, so she was very lonely, until she discovered the internet is a cornucopia of imaginary friends, and she harvested her own crop, just like the rest of us. Freedom isn’t free, so she makes videos of purchases she describes as “hauls,” beauty tutorials, and anything else that will make people at home squee and subscribe.
Stephanie is bisexual, and plans to travel to Australia to meet Erica, a funky chick with a Manic Panic sponsorship who lives in the Outback and owns a $10,000 camera lens. Envy, is that you? Get out of my narrative! She estimates they’ve exchanged over 100,000 text messages, and she will get 10,000 new subscribers once she films her “coming out” confessional video and the pizza song hits the airwaves. I don’t even care if this is a con, because at least this con is more interesting than Yolanda.
“I can’t wait to touch her face,” gushes Stephanie, prompting Yonkers to declare a code blue and quarantine 300 miles around her house with a thick outline of hand sanitizer.
Later, Stephanie plays tennis with her friends, on purpose, because that happens. She says that she wants to slow motion run towards Erica, like that time freeze dude in Freaks. Buzzkill friend Heather is worried that Stephanie is about to embark on yet another failed relationship, and, time-out: isn’t that how this works? You fail at relationships and get hurt a bunch of times until you don’t?
Stephanie tells her friends that her mom doesn’t know she’s bi. She doesn’t want to keep this from her mom, but her mom has mapped an ideal life for her, and a rainbow-haired Aussie is one of those undesignated islands. Plus, if Stephanie hastily confesses, they won’t have enough manufactured drama for multiple seasons. Gay friend Spencer tells her not to lie, unless a cop is involved and the question concerns sobriety. Stephanie then raises her eyebrows, to signal every participant that it’s time to adopt The Concerned Face.
Later on, Stephanie’s family makes the 70 minutes trek to her house with a proper Eastern European feast and cleaning ambitions, and as someone with a Polish family, Mother Stephanie is on brand. They express concern about her intentions to travel overseas, because Stephanie has aplastic anemia, and this is how the Mayo Clinic describes this disease:
“Aplastic anemia is a condition that occurs when your body stops producing enough new blood cells. The condition leaves you fatigued and more prone to infections and uncontrolled bleeding. A rare and serious condition, aplastic anemia can develop at any age. Treatment for aplastic anemia might include medications, blood transfusions or a stem cell transplant, also known as a bone marrow transplant.”
Stephanie spent months receiving blood transfusions every other day, and her health is so fragile they can’t understand why she’s risking it for three weeks down under Erica. But Stephanie is going there instead of bringing her here to delay the family introduction, and because the 90DF producers want us to feel the anxiety of an action movie during our viewing experience. Stephanie, please hit up Vogmask for product placement opportunities, because that thin surgical mask you were sporting in the previews just won’t do.
If you are suddenly hit with the overwhelming odor of magazine perfume, that’s Darcey’s drumroll, and she’s here to defend her crown for most seasons on a fiancé tv show without ever actually having one. I’d caution TLC about not getting any ideas about 90 Days Almost-Fiancee, but we’d watch that shit too.
Darcey been dating Tom’s good angle all by herself for the past year, and she’s not sure if Tom knows about this. So she goes to gym for new mirror opportunities, and just before her bold effort to run her tits off her chest, Stacey texts her to let her know that Tom hired an escort to pose in photographs with him. Darcey would have seen these staged photos for herself, but her and Tom blocked each other on social media after a fight, like a lot of people drunk or in high school. If she can figure out how to slow down this runaway treadmill, she’ll have to decide between calling him to pick a fight immediately, or waiting until they’re in New York with a camera crew. This question is not really a question.
While Darcey was at the gym, Stacey attempted to get enough injections to disguise her smirk and told-you-so expression, and it almost worked. They get smoothies and gather around a table to discuss how to drag this storyline into an entire season.
“I think you should let it go,” says Stacey, reading off her hand.
“I need to see for myself, because I never learn anything,” Darcey retorts.
Speaking of folks without an actual fiancé, the 90DF producers are slowly realizing that Yolanda doesn’t have a storyline, since they mostly record her calling Williams in Manchester, Nigeria. He never answers the phone, and suddenly his instagram is deleted, and replaced with a new fake identity. Yolanda declares she doesn’t know what’s going on, which makes me wonder if Yolanda knows anything at all, if this non-mystery requires additional clues. Yolanda, I would like to solve the puzzle.
In Seattle, Avery ships little Silver off to her dad, and then heads to the airport to begin her marathon travel to meet Ash in Melbourne. Ash makes money slinging the wisdom of Buzzfeed quizzes and self help books at women he’d like the fuck, when he’s not busy giving himself a UTI by meditating with his ass submerged in water so he has an excuse when his pee burns.
Ash believes that he and Avery’s souls have met a few times at astral cook-outs, and he’s a stone sober single dad making enough cash to have a pool, a car, and endless boxes of flowers. This means he’s cult-leader successful. With Avery poised to arrive he heads to a flower shop to cash in his frequent flower points, and the florist wrecks his game by greeting him by first name and admitting that Ash is such a regular that they started selling condoms too, in a bid to become his one-stop shop. Florist dude says it’s not surprising, since Ash knows what to say to a woman, thus confirming that Avery’s suspicions about him are likely true, but at least this show still counts as a free ad for cannabis salads.
Meanwhile, Big Ed lands in the Philippines, and is ready to meet Rose. He knows that Rose is out of his league, but he’s willing to travel overseas if that’s what it takes to commit to someone he has no interest in knowing. 90 Day Fiancé then leads us to believe that despite endless phone call exchanges, Big Ed can’t possibly ring her while he waits in the airport in a bike messenger outfit, hiding behind a plant.
While he’s in the sky, Rose gets her house, herself, and her four year-old son Prince ready to welcome Big Ed and his suitcase full of assumptions. She lives in a two room house with her sister, and if Ed had asked Rose any questions about herself, he might have learned this trivia before he packed 300 condoms and Lisa Vanderpump’s lingerie from 1986.
Rosemarie reveals that her mother died, and since then she’s been living with her sister Wilma, who she considers a second mother. Rose says she likes how positive and funny Big Ed is, and considers his mayonnaise-hair The Sex, because you can’t smell over video chat. She explains that she wants Prince to call Big Ed “daddy,” because she wants Ed to take care of her son, and her dream is to have two more children. Little does she know Big Ed sees Prince primarily as a vagina obstacle, and intends to take medical action to crush her dreams the moment she’s stateside and marooned without a green card.
Sister Wilma says that Big Ed is different from Rosemarie’s past entanglements, because he has a bigger body and the age difference is 30 years, but he’s rich, so fuck it. Wilma knows her sister just wants what’s best for her son. They go to meet up with Rosemarie’s father, who is understandably skeptical of this arrangement, and distrustful of Big Ed’s intentions. It might have something to do with that 40 gallon bucket of lube he shipped in advance, along with his list of dietary restrictions and princess and the pea sleeping requirements.
Back in 90DF present, the wait is finally over, and Rose goes skittering across the airport in a bright red dress to meet her future husband and unravel the first of what is probably many lies. She sweetly tells him that he lied about his height, which he admits, and says he thought she wouldn’t like him if he was fully honest about that. Never mind that he didn’t give her a choice. Later on the producers ask if she’s attracted to him, and while giggling she says that he’s short and big, but she is attracted to him.
Once in the cab, Big Ed says he’s really tired and wants to get a hotel for the first night. This is probably something he should have told her in advance, since she has a child. She point this out, by saying she doesn’t usually stay at hotels because she HAS A CHILD, and Big Ed ignores this human obstacle, which is also his plan for the next 14 years. Then she mentions a party she went to at a hotel before, which inspires an interrogation from Big Ed, who is certain she didn’t exist before he met her 9 months ago. I’m kinda glad someone who hasn’t had sex for 20-some years is cool with explaining to us why that happened, exactly.
Next week, Avery is ready to meet Dr. Fucks-a-Lot, and Lisa demonstrates that her demand to be center of attention is working exactly as well as we thought it would. The MmmmmMMMm guy finally makes his debut, which means Yolanda’s 15 minutes is at 14:59, and Captain Creepy suddenly remembers he lives in America, and his girlfriend might be considering moving there to be his next restraining order.
Thank you, Patreon supporters! Check me out at patreon.com/Fractalfay
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2020.03.09 17:49 fractalfay I can’t wait to touch her face: Recap of Before the 90 Days, S04E03

Welcome to the 90DF safe space for snark, coming at you from self-imposed quarantine and fever dreams and a metric fuckton of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Suffice it to say I’m still sick, but I suspect a hearty dose of the bad decisions of others will have me on the mend in no time.
And speaking of diseases, things kick off with that international criminal TLC lent a microphone to, but since we’ve already signed the petition to boot his glassy-eyed Big Little Lies mug into orbit, let’s move on to people with fewer felonies, shall we?
Usman, who is totally not a yahoo boy, is living with multiple yahoo boys in a one bedroom yahoo hut, as celebrities do. Usman #2 is so entry level he doesn’t even get his own name, and Giant is his best friend and unofficial security detail. Usman ditches the yahoos and goes out with his friends from the entertainment industry to smoke hookahs without inviting Zied. Despite an internet engagement and a song with no specific references, this team has never heard of Babygirl Lisa, since, much like Pauly Shore and Prince (RIP), Usman probably refers to all women by this name.
As further evidence of his two-year mystery relationship, Usman shows off Lisa’s Glamour Shot captured with Darcey’s upcoming app, Denial for Women. His friends pause to quickly inspect what they put in that hookah. Usman assures them that it’s not about looks, it’s about getting to America where everyone in LA is a producer.
“it’s true,” Blake interjects. “But do you know where Pennsylvania is, my friend?”
Usman tells them that she’s 49 or 50, and Lisa tells us she’s 52, so she’s probably eligible for free coffee at McDonald’s and buys food from the grocery store on senior discount Wednesdays. No word on whether he’s aware that she wants him to throw his hotdog down her hallway without the bun.
Concerned friend, Joseph (oh HI Joseph) just wants him to focus on his music, and Usman admits that she gets in the way of this, because she’s jealous of every heart and thumbs-up he receives from folks with boobs or lightly feminine names, to the point where she’s been chasing people around IG with a menacing emoji knife in her heavily-filtered hand. Someone needs to tell Lisa that some people will go after your man even if he’s fresh out of prison and 90% forehead. Seriously: these folks need to watch Love After Lockup, for research.
Usman knows that the only chance of arriving stateside is to keep this ruse in motion. “I just have to, you know, try to tolerate her,” he muses, solving the problem of what I’m going to write in this year’s anniversary card.
Usman decides to bring Giant and Usman #2 with him to pick up Baby Girl Lisa from the airport, because what’s a yahoo without his boys? Or maybe Usman’s trying to avoid a post-flight car boot and fistfight, like the one Michael didn’t enjoy that required Angela for big mouth backup. Giant asks if he can hug her like a creeper as an introduction, and Usman #1 says that a wife is for one man, while a husband is for everyone. They want to know what he’s going to do if he’s not attracted to her, and these guys really aren’t getting it.
Lisa gets off the airplane and doesn’t bother with any of that fancy whore’s bath airport business, or even an air freshener around her neck before lunging for Usman. He presents her with a red rose, and realizes that up until this point he’s only seen her from the neck up. She makes animal snarls to profess her approval for his man meat, while Usman says she has a big belly he didn’t know about, but is acceptable to him. I don’t remember this lyric from that personalized love song!
Then Usman presents Lisa to two people she’s never met before. Somewhere, Jasmin wakes up screaming. All the same, the chauffeur situation creates the opportunity for them to dry hump the entire way to the hotel, while his friends dry heave in the front. At some point a yeasty lizard tongue slithers from Lisa’s mouth and threatens to pull Usman’s head into her mouth for praying mantis purposes.
At the hotel, the yahoos help with the luggage, and Lisa sees the potential for these fools to become hotel fixtures, so she tells them to GTFO so she can destroy Usman’s genitals with her Venus dick trap in their personal room 104. Ever the diplomats, the 90DF producers ask if Usman’s looking forward to driving her down to pound town, and there’s this long, 55% pause, before he finally says, “She’s not who I’m usually attracted to, but she has lady parts, and I have man parts, you know.” This is a line from Usman’s upcoming track, “Baby Girl Lisa, I Guess You’ll Do.”
In the safety of their room, Lisa just wants him to be truly super attracted to her, because she still hasn’t figured out that she’s the one prioritizing beauty. If I’m chasing dick around at 52 years old, Goddess please give me access to mirrors and the ability to acknowledge that no one is going to look at me like I’m 22. Also, give me the time to find some flattering outfits, and a personalized skin care regime before my international tour of dicks.
Time to meet Stephanie, who has a blue acoustic guitar, and the same Youtube channel as 80% of white women on the internet. However, instead of presenting the required warbling Regina Spektor imitation while butchering a defenseless trap song, she sings a wholesome little yarn about pizza. For those of you not keeping up, pizza is the new bacon, and bacon was the new vegan, and vegan was the old mistake.
Anyway, now that we’ve all developed soy allergies, we learn that Stephanie was born in the Czech Republic. When she first arrived in the US of A she didn’t speak a lick of English, so she was very lonely, until she discovered the internet is a cornucopia of imaginary friends, and she harvested her own crop, just like the rest of us. Freedom isn’t free, so she makes videos of purchases she describes as “hauls,” beauty tutorials, and anything else that will make people at home squee and subscribe.
Stephanie is bisexual, and plans to travel to Australia to meet Erica, a funky chick with a Manic Panic sponsorship who lives in the Outback and owns a $10,000 camera lens. Envy, is that you? Get out of my narrative! She estimates they’ve exchanged over 100,000 text messages, and she will get 10,000 new subscribers once she films her “coming out” confessional video and the pizza song hits the airwaves. I don’t even care if this is a con, because at least this con is more interesting than Yolanda.
“I can’t wait to touch her face,” gushes Stephanie, prompting Yonkers to declare a code blue and quarantine 300 miles around her house with a thick outline of hand sanitizer.
Later, Stephanie plays tennis with her friends, on purpose, because that happens. She says that she wants to slow motion run towards Erica, like that time freeze dude in Freaks. Buzzkill friend Heather is worried that Stephanie is about to embark on yet another failed relationship, and, time-out: isn’t that how this works? You fail at relationships and get hurt a bunch of times until you don’t?
Stephanie tells her friends that her mom doesn’t know she’s bi. She doesn’t want to keep this from her mom, but her mom has mapped an ideal life for her, and a rainbow-haired Aussie is one of those undesignated islands. Plus, if Stephanie hastily confesses, they won’t have enough manufactured drama for multiple seasons. Gay friend Spencer tells her not to lie, unless a cop is involved and the question concerns sobriety. Stephanie then raises her eyebrows, to signal every participant that it’s time to adopt The Concerned Face.
Later on, Stephanie’s family makes the 70 minutes trek to her house with a proper Eastern European feast and cleaning ambitions, and as someone with a Polish family, Mother Stephanie is on brand. They express concern about her intentions to travel overseas, because Stephanie has aplastic anemia, and this is how the Mayo Clinic describes this disease:
“Aplastic anemia is a condition that occurs when your body stops producing enough new blood cells. The condition leaves you fatigued and more prone to infections and uncontrolled bleeding. A rare and serious condition, aplastic anemia can develop at any age. Treatment for aplastic anemia might include medications, blood transfusions or a stem cell transplant, also known as a bone marrow transplant.”
Stephanie spent months receiving blood transfusions every other day, and her health is so fragile they can’t understand why she’s risking it for three weeks down under Erica. But Stephanie is going there instead of bringing her here to delay the family introduction, and because the 90DF producers want us to feel the anxiety of an action movie during our viewing experience. Stephanie, please hit up Vogmask for product placement opportunities, because that thin surgical mask you were sporting in the previews just won’t do.
If you are suddenly hit with the overwhelming odor of magazine perfume, that’s Darcey’s drumroll, and she’s here to defend her crown for most seasons on a fiancé tv show without ever actually having one. I’d caution TLC about not getting any ideas about 90 Days Almost-Fiancee, but we’d watch that shit too.
Darcey been dating Tom’s good angle all by herself for the past year, and she’s not sure if Tom knows about this. So she goes to gym for new mirror opportunities, and just before her bold effort to run her tits off her chest, Stacey texts her to let her know that Tom hired an escort to pose in photographs with him. Darcey would have seen these staged photos for herself, but her and Tom blocked each other on social media after a fight, like a lot of people drunk or in high school. If she can figure out how to slow down this runaway treadmill, she’ll have to decide between calling him to pick a fight immediately, or waiting until they’re in New York with a camera crew. This question is not really a question.
While Darcey was at the gym, Stacey attempted to get enough injections to disguise her smirk and told-you-so expression, and it almost worked. They get smoothies and gather around a table to discuss how to drag this storyline into an entire season.
“I think you should let it go,” says Stacey, reading off her hand.
“I need to see for myself, because I never learn anything,” Darcey retorts.
Speaking of folks without an actual fiancé, the 90DF producers are slowly realizing that Yolanda doesn’t have a storyline, since they mostly record her calling Williams in Manchester, Nigeria. He never answers the phone, and suddenly his instagram is deleted, and replaced with a new fake identity. Yolanda declares she doesn’t know what’s going on, which makes me wonder if Yolanda knows anything at all, if this non-mystery requires additional clues. Yolanda, I would like to solve the puzzle.
In Seattle, Avery ships little Silver off to her dad, and then heads to the airport to begin her marathon travel to meet Ash in Melbourne. Ash makes money slinging the wisdom of Buzzfeed quizzes and self help books at women he’d like the fuck, when he’s not busy giving himself a UTI by meditating with his ass submerged in water so he has an excuse when his pee burns.
Ash believes that he and Avery’s souls have met a few times at astral cook-outs, and he’s a stone sober single dad making enough cash to have a pool, a car, and endless boxes of flowers. This means he’s cult-leader successful. With Avery poised to arrive he heads to a flower shop to cash in his frequent flower points, and the florist wrecks his game by greeting him by first name and admitting that Ash is such a regular that they started selling condoms too, in a bid to become his one-stop shop. Florist dude says it’s not surprising, since Ash knows what to say to a woman, thus confirming that Avery’s suspicions about him are likely true, but at least this show still counts as a free ad for cannabis salads.
Meanwhile, Big Ed lands in the Philippines, and is ready to meet Rose. He knows that Rose is out of his league, but he’s willing to travel overseas if that’s what it takes to commit to someone he has no interest in knowing. 90 Day Fiancé then leads us to believe that despite endless phone call exchanges, Big Ed can’t possibly ring her while he waits in the airport in a bike messenger outfit, hiding behind a plant.
While he’s in the sky, Rose gets her house, herself, and her four year-old son Prince ready to welcome Big Ed and his suitcase full of assumptions. She lives in a two room house with her sister, and if Ed had asked Rose any questions about herself, he might have learned this trivia before he packed 300 condoms and Lisa Vanderpump’s lingerie from 1986.
Rosemarie reveals that her mother died, and since then she’s been living with her sister Wilma, who she considers a second mother. Rose says she likes how positive and funny Big Ed is, and considers his mayonnaise-hair The Sex, because you can’t smell over video chat. She explains that she wants Prince to call Big Ed “daddy,” because she wants Ed to take care of her son, and her dream is to have two more children. Little does she know Big Ed sees Prince primarily as a vagina obstacle, and intends to take medical action to crush her dreams the moment she’s stateside and marooned without a green card.
Sister Wilma says that Big Ed is different from Rosemarie’s past entanglements, because he has a bigger body and the age difference is 30 years, but he’s rich, so fuck it. Wilma knows her sister just wants what’s best for her son. They go to meet up with Rosemarie’s father, who is understandably skeptical of this arrangement, and distrustful of Big Ed’s intentions. It might have something to do with that 40 gallon bucket of lube he shipped in advance, along with his list of dietary restrictions and princess and the pea sleeping requirements.
Back in 90DF present, the wait is finally over, and Rose goes skittering across the airport in a bright red dress to meet her future husband and unravel the first of what is probably many lies. She sweetly tells him that he lied about his height, which he admits, and says he thought she wouldn’t like him if he was fully honest about that. Never mind that he didn’t give her a choice. Later on the producers ask if she’s attracted to him, and while giggling she says that he’s short and big, but she is attracted to him.
Once in the cab, Big Ed says he’s really tired and wants to get a hotel for the first night. This is probably something he should have told her in advance, since she has a child. She point this out, by saying she doesn’t usually stay at hotels because she HAS A CHILD, and Big Ed ignores this human obstacle, which is also his plan for the next 14 years. Then she mentions a party she went to at a hotel before, which inspires an interrogation from Big Ed, who is certain she didn’t exist before he met her 9 months ago. I’m kinda glad someone who hasn’t had sex for 20-some years is cool with explaining to us why that happened, exactly.
Next week, Avery is ready to meet Dr. Fucks-a-Lot, and Lisa demonstrates that her demand to be center of attention is working exactly as well as we thought it would. The MmmmmMMMm guy finally makes his debut, which means Yolanda’s 15 minutes is at 14:59, and Captain Creepy suddenly remembers he lives in America, and his girlfriend might be considering moving there to be his next restraining order.
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2019.12.05 15:23 spindizzy_wizard Alien Crash : Part 03 of 06

Alien Crash : Part 03

Prologue

They appear friendly, and I have given orders for no action to be taken regardless of what happens to me. Of course, if I'm dead, I'm in no shape to give any orders. What happens then? Will depend on what happened to me.

Tyler's Team

"I don't know, but I think I'm getting a 'male' vibe off of 'him'. I'll go with male pronouns, for now, anyone having a problem with that are welcome to make their comments... later! Obviously military for a bunch of reasons, and not just because he's on a warship. We're closing with each other, both of us have our arms outstretched."

Pilot

He's obviously talking, I would suppose that the visual transmission includes audio. "Scans, include the video feed from the camera to the translation computer. We have a far better idea what's going on here than over their broadcast system."
"Agreed, and working. ... We're getting better results now. ... Initial comment by subordinate is reminder to leader that they are armed. Leader ... Yes, leader orders no action regardless of consequences to him. ... Some ... badinage? ... between the leader and the operator. Suggest they are known to each other before this event. Leader and subordinate have worked together, but the relationship is not as complex as that between observer and leader. Subordinate is carrying extensive communications gear, which appears to be encrypted, and frequency hopping. Definitely a military-style comms, even if it is still using (translation, phrase is mildly derogatory) radio waves."
"Be nice Scans, we're here for a very long time. Keep that in mind."

Tyler's Team

"I'm close enough now to make out detailed features, not bad. I'm going to try lowering my arms, this is getting stiff."
Tyler slowly lowers his arms, letting them sink to a normal resting position. The alien matches his movement. They stand and stare at each other.
"Welcome to Earth."

Pilot

"Pilot: seems to be opening statement inviting us to ... dirt? No, Earth their planet name."
I choose to execute a slight bow. "Scans, reverse translate 'Thank you'."

Tyler's Team

A mechanical voice, "Thank you".
Tyler returns the bow, "You are welcome. You have a translator?"

Pilot

"Translation, extending further welcome including concept of replying to your statement. Translator working for some degree of communication. Subsequent statement is query... uncertain of last word."
"Scans, assume that it is 'translator', opinion?"
"90% probability"
"Translate 'yes'."
"Dangerous, we might be agreeing to something we will regret."
"Still..."

Inner HQ

"Sir! Radar is tracking light aircraft approaching alien craft from altitude! Looks like a dive bomb profile! No way is he going to pull up!"
"WARN THE TEAM! CAP! TAKE DOWN THAT AIRCRAFT!"
Rapid communications, the nearest craft that could intercept in time is one of the armed helicopters.

Tyler's Team

The same mechanical voice, "Yes".
"TYLER! DOWN! DOWN! DOWN! INCOMING AIRCRAFT ATTACK!"
"SHIT!" I hope he understands!
Tyler is seen tackling the alien and covering him with his own body. Everyone else on the team dives behind whatever cover they think will do them any good. Gilford is crouched, scanning around the sky looking for the incoming craft.
"PILOT! ARE YOU OKAY!"
"Affirmative! This is not an attack, they are all taking cover. Scan surrounding!"
"Scanning ... Light craft approaching at high speed, estimate attack, large quantity of chemical explosives aboard. Armed craft previously identified as observers are accelerating. Weapons going active. Scans going active. Estimate 90% defensive move. DO NOT FIRE, REPEAT DO NOT FIRE, THIS IS DEFENSIVE ACTION AGAINST HOSTILE NATIVE!"
"TYLER! I CAN SEE IT! I'VE GOT IT ON CAMERA! WOAH! LOTS OF BOXES STRAPPED TO CRAFT! HELICOPTERS ARE FIRING"
These are Apache AH-64, which have been armed with a variety of weapons, including Stinger air-to-air missiles. The choice is fortunate, all fixed-wing aircraft are on search mode, or guarding against larger craft at higher altitudes. The seeker is a refined passive IR system that can track targets. The pilots are fortunate, there are no larger heat sources to distract the missiles. Three missiles are fired, they hit the aircraft — or what's left of it — triggering the explosives. They are commercial grade explosives, but the people who built this were aware of the ability to use ball bearings as fragmentation. Crude, but effective.
"PILOT! DEBRIS INCOMING!"
Gilford, covered by a fortunate piece of gear extending from the surface of the alien craft is unarmed; as is Jones. Tyler is less fortunate.
"Huh! I'm hit? Yes, I'm hit. Ooooh, not good."

Pilot

"Scans! Any impacts? I felt the one on top of me jerk!"
"Confirm impacts! Alien covering you is definitely injured. Body fluid leaking. No other significant impacts. Alien aircraft destroyed. Gunships are hovering, facing away from us, they've taken up close guard positions."
"Prep the medbay! I'm going to bring the wounded one with me, as well as the other two, we need to get under cover." Heaving up, he quickly starts dragging Tyler into the craft, "Translate! FOLLOW ME!"

Tyler's Team

"Hey! He's taking Tyler inside!"
The mechanical voice, "COME ME!"
"HQ! We've been invited in! May lose contact, will attempt to contact every 15 minutes. No guarantees. Per Tyler's directive, TAKE NO HOSTILE ACTION! Gilford! Follow Me!"
"Hot Damn! Inside views! Recording!"
As they run to the entry, Jones takes up more of Tyler's weight, moving everyone faster into the alien craft. Once inside, the alien shifts grip on Tyler, bringing him into a more workable position for navigating the craft. Fortunately, there is an aid station near the cargo area. As they enter, they see many pallets of equipment. Mostly unknown. Gilford is sweeping everything in rapid arcs, trying to stay up with the others, and still get usable video. The further in they go, the worse the signal becomes. More aliens are seen, some with arms, some without, and one with a larger belt pack that he is taking various items out of.
"I think this one is a medic! Hope they don't kill him by accident!"
The 'medic' has taken out a small device and runs it quickly over Tyler's body.
"Sufficient similarity for basic procedures to work. Bring him to aide station, will attempt control of bleeding and bandage wounds. Suggest contact aliens for extraction to their medical facilities."
As all of this has been going on, Scans has chosen to open the translator for free flow. The results are not always what was intended.
"... station ... blood ... removal ..."
"Jones? JONES! They're going to bleed him!"
"Tyler's orders! No offensive action regardless of consequences. Continue recording. Besides, I think that translator of theirs stinks."
Of course, that works in the other direction.
" ... order ... attack ... offensive ..."

Pilot

The armed aliens are reacting to the suggestion of an attack. Pilot is screaming.
"NEGATIVE! DO NOT ATTACK! DO NOT ATTACK! THEY ARE UNARMED!"
Several armed aliens already have their weapons out, but others move to knock the weapons aside. Some energy bolts are fired but hit only the interior of the craft. The energy bloom is something else.

Tyler's Team

Jones is too close to one of the beams, the energy bloom burns him across the back, causing him to drop Tyler, and fall to the deck himself. Gilford is only lightly touched but yells loudly anyway.
"STOP SHOOTING STOP SHOOTING!"
The only word that comes through is fortunate.
" ... stop ... stop ... "
As with all camera operators, Gilford continues operating his camera. Other aliens come forward to assist carrying Tyler and Jones to the aid station. Gilford follows, uncertain if his broadcast is being seen or not.

Apache Helicopter

"HQ, thermal systems show increased temperature in multiple locations of the alien craft's surface."
The specialist monitoring the video broadcast. "Shots fired! Shots fired!"
Major Lohman makes the critical decision.
"NO OFFENSIVE ACTION! ALERT DUSTOFF! EXTRACTION, ALIEN CRAFT. ALL HUMANS TO BE REMOVED FROM ALIEN CRAFT. NO OFFENSIVE ACTION! ENSURE OBSERVER IS PRESENT!"
It is most definitely the best decision he could have made.

Alien Craft

"THIS IS SCANS! SINGLE CRAFT APPROACHING AT SPEED. NOT HOSTILE. NOT HOSTILE. UNARMED!"
Unfortunately, there is always someone who doesn't get the word.
"Tracking... Tracking... CLEAN SHOT!"
One of the surface guns intended for close-in defense is still operative and manned. The declaration of not hostile did not reach this individual. One of the earlier wild shots took out his communications and has not yet been noticed.

Dustoff

Copilot, "SHIT! THEY JUST SHOT AT US!"
Pilot, "I KNOW! STILL GOING IN!"
The pilot is well known for bravery bordering on insanity. His copilot has been with him for a long time but really doubts his judgment right now. The energy bolt cooked one side of the craft, and there are equipment warnings... It is a twin-engine craft, but they're about to lose one of those engines. Assuming it doesn't just catastrophically fail.
Copilot, "Losing left engine!"
Pilot, "cut it now and foam it!"
The engine is shut off and the fire suppressant is activated. Fortunate for the crew, since the compressor disks would have explosively shattered within seconds. While still spinning, the reduction in stress and heat prevents catastrophic failure.
The crew is in a real pucker factor situation, the craft is wounded, the side of the craft they'd normally exit on is melted together, and some of the crew were slightly burned on that side. Not debilitating, but rather like getting a severe sunburn in seconds.
Pilot, "Un-ass on the right side when we're down! I'll rotate to put that side towards the opening. Don't waste time! We're going to have trouble if you do!"

Inner HQ

"DAMNIT!"
"SIR! SIR! DO WE RETURN FIRE?!"
"NEGATIVE!"

Whitehouse

"They shot at an evac helicopter?!?"
"Mr. President, I have seen panic reactions before. It always happens that someone doesn't get the word, and a shot is made that shouldn't have been. You will notice that there has been no second shot."

Alien Craft

Pilot is now screaming, "GET THAT BASTARD OUT OF HIS BLISTER AND SHOOT HIM! ON THE TOP! OPENLY!"
An older alien, roughly equivalent to an E7 Sergeant, is a little more cool-headed. He leads the team to open the blister, and drags the misfortunate gunner out.
"Did you hear the non-hostile declaration?"
"No, Sergeant!"
"You'd better hope that I find out your comms were down because if they aren't, you're dead."
Checking the comms, the Sergeant does confirm that they were out. It doesn't make up for the shot, but it does buy the gunner a chance.
"Gunner! You're going to be put under restraints and sent out to the locals. You will cooperate with them to the very best of your ability. If they shoot you, we will consider it a justified execution. If they don't, you might get to live when you get back on board."
The gunner is now terrified, but obedient. The alternative is immediate execution. He is placed in improvised restraints, the usual restraints being unavailable; stripped of all arms, and marched up to the surface.

Dustoff

The medical crew has jumped out with commendable speed, taking three baskets with them. As they enter on the run, the gunner is marched out, and presented at the helicopter. The observer is covering the entire action.
"What the heck are we supposed to do with this guy?"

Inner HQ

"That must be the poor sucker who didn't get the word."
"Yes, Specialist, it probably is. I think they're making a peace offering. The one who screwed up, to save the ship."
"Send to Dustoff: Take prisoner on board, strap him down in a basket, and bring him out with the others. Try to be gentle, but if he resists, get him in that basket however you have to."

Dustoff

"Prisoner? Okay, let's see if we can get him in a basket. No place else for him."
Repeated pantomime finally gets the point across. Reluctantly, the prisoner lays in one of the baskets. When he panics at being strapped in. He's held down and strapped in any way. He continues to struggle against the straps.

Inside Alien Craft

The Dustoff team comes running in with their stretchers. That same E7 Sargent equivalent looks at them, and the baskets, and points to the aid station. The team lead salutes and moves on through.
"Scans? Purpose of arm gesture?"
"Not sure. Acknowledgment of order or indication of respect?"
In the aid station, the team is amazed to see the bleeding stopped, and the bandages holding. Knowing that Taylor has sustained blood loss, they insert an IV for normal saline. That brings the blood volume back up to something the heart can pump effectively, and Taylor's color improves. Monitoring heart rate, pressure, and other factors, they determine that the internal bleeding must have already been stopped. The team lead smiles (fortunately closed mouthed) and nods at the medical tech who has been hovering around scanning pretty much everyone and everything in sight.
"Sodium chloride solution 9%, blood volume expander. Presumed normal being scanned, assume normal values. Compare against other scans, establish ranges. Multiple blood types, some interactions potentially severe. Decline direct transfusion without exact match. Patient one showing increased vitals, not normal, but better. Patient two is ... experiencing pain? ... but is relatively normal. Observer, unusual chemicals in bloodstream. Possibly fight/flight mechanism. Computer, synthesize and generate treatment for blood loss and stabilization."
The med-tech, seeing the alien nod, nods back.

Dustoff

"Okay, we've got this one stabilized, how's the other one doing?"
"Pain, shock, can't tell what the burns are like the bandage gets in the way. We'll have to take him ... Hey!"

Alien Medic

Ah, they need to see the wound. "Move scanner into place, display visual below bandage." The scanner moves gently into place, nudging the human tech out of the way. The display comes on. The medic moves to the scanner, demonstrates how to view deeper, and how to narrow the view for magnification.

Dustoff

"Holy... We have GOT to get one of these!" A very emphatic nod to the alien medic, who smiles back, closed mouth, and nods in return. "I've got second and possibly third-degree burns. Observer! Get over here and record this monitor." The scanner is adjusted to show the full depth of the injury, and certain portions are enlarged for a detailed view.

Walter Reed / John Hopkins / Mayo Clinic

"We absolutely have to have that technology."

UTA Biomedical Engineering (University of Texas / Austin)

"How the heck did they...?"
"Improvement on the terahertz imaging systems?"
"Let's see if we can..."
"Hold up there! That's an expensive..!" CRACK "Aw, shit. How are we going to explain this to the professor?"
"What do you mean? He's the one that cracked it!"

Walter Reed

"They have what? ... Fine, I'll send a team down to look over their shoulders. We need that ASAP."
Replay that for every major medical institute and university in the US. Shortly reprised by every such institute in the world.

Whitehouse

The Secretary of Health and Human Services is having a very loud conversation with multiple other Cabinet members. "No! We are not going to restrict access to critical medical advances! Even to the Chinese! What we are going to do is establish a nearby center where they can observe and advise without getting in the way of the engineers." You might even call it an argument. The President finally puts an end to it, by slamming his hand down on the table.
"Gentle beings, and I use that term loosely for some of you. We are not going to hold medical technology derived from the aliens hostage to political issues. She's right. See to establishing the center. Do not interfere with their communication home. If one of them turns out to be interested in more than just medical research, gently — I say again gently — send them home; with a polite suggestion that the replacement concentrate on medical research."

Dustoff

The human team lead, having saluted the alien medic, directs the team to evacuate to the helicopter for a return to the HQ mobile army hospital.
"Hey? What's this guy doing in here?"
"Prisoner? He was turned over to us tied up. We got him in the basket, then had to keep him down while we strapped him in. He's been fighting the straps ... he stopped!"
"Must have seen we brought our own out in these. I think I can understand a bit of fear in an unfamiliar environment." The lead pats the alien on the shoulder and smiles. They've been watching the aliens smile, and they have all been closed mouth. Good observation on their part. The alien relaxes a bit, and carefully smiles back.

D&D Meetup / Duluth, Minnesota

"Uh, guys? Did you get a good look at those aliens?"
"Who cares... We're at the boss fight, you in or out?"
"He looks like an elf."
A moment of quietness, followed by a stampede for the big monitor sometimes used for large scale multi-person gaming.
"He's right!"
"Has anyone else posted that?"
"Not that we can see!"
"WHOOHOO! FIRST!"

Whitehouse

"Mr. President, this just came in from the cyber team. A group in Duluth, Minnesota commented that the aliens look rather like elves. The consensus is that they're correct. The images match the most common descriptions of elves. Some are arguing for Vulcans, but they're in the minority, these people do not show the characteristics for blue blood or desert adaptation."
"You don't think... "
"Mr. President, at this point I am NOT thinking. There's too much coming in too fast. I'm just trying to keep up with the flow and bring you the tidbits that seem most important or interesting.
Mr. President, do you have any orders considering the alien prisoner?"
"First, tell the doctors to keep their fucking hands off. No intrusive procedures, not even a thermometer. You can tell he's scared out of his mind. Second, although his movement is restricted, he is not to be treated harshly. He's not your normal prisoner. Third, see if there's some way we can get him communications with the ship. At a minimum, he needs to be able to talk with higher. Ideally, he's connected to their translator, so we can start working on language. Fourth, while we suspect that he was the individual who fired the shot at the dustoff, we do not have proof that he did so; only guesses that could be wildly inaccurate. Fifth, even if he did fire the shot (a) he did not fire a second shot, and (b) there is always someone who doesn't get the word. Like that idiot with the light aircraft who caused the whole medical problem, and may have poisoned the well.
He's scared. He's afraid he's going to be executed, possibly in a very unpleasant manner. He also appeared, to me, to be relatively young. Consider him a PFC who's made a really, really, stupid mistake; not an enemy combatant."
"Mr. President, I will relay those orders. You know some people are going to be stupid about this too."
"If they do, you are to strip them of rank and privilege, and put them in cells where the alien can see them. His quarters will be in the same block when he is not needed elsewhere. Every time they get stupid again, ... I dunno, fire hose them? Something appropriate, whatever it is."
"Mr. President? I'm trying to decide if that's genius or a recipe for disaster."

Inner HQ / Medical Hospital

"Dustoff is here! Are we all prepped?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Okay, gunshot to bay one. Burn to bay two. Alien? What the hell do we do with an alien?!?"
"Dissect him?"
"You'd better have been joking. Stash him in bay three with a guard. A friendly guard."

Surface, Alien Ship

Mr. Gilford has been, inadvertently, left behind. "Aw, Shit. I'm so dead."
Placing his video camera on top of some convenient outcropping of metal, he walks in front of it. "Excuse me, but I've been left behind on the alien craft. Could someone please pick me up before I get shot for leaving Tyler? It wasn't my choice."

Inner HQ

"That went out live, didn't it."
"Per orders, Sir!"
Sigh "Get another dustoff out there to pick that poor sucker up. Even if we don't kill him, higher might."

Reaction

The public, in general, is laughing their heads off.
The political scene is the usual circus.
The legal scene is filing lawsuits all over the place for illegal detainment, threats of violence, and other abuses of civil rights. The court cases are going to go on forever.

Whitehouse

sigh "William? Will you please find out what orders were actually given?"

Inner HQ / Medical Hospital

"That alien doc did good work. Tyler is not bleeding internally, and the transfusions are bringing his blood volume back to normal. He may need some rehab, but he's going to live."
That little announcement makes the rounds VERY fast. Jones, on the other hand, "Hey Doc? Can I get out of here?"
"What? You've got second and third-degree burns! Get back in that bed!"
"I feel fine. The bandage even fell off on its own."
"IT WHAT! BAY TWO! STAT!"
The medical team is ... puzzled. Jones' burns have been ... reduced ... not eliminated. The dead skin has been debrided and covered with what appears to be some sort of transparent artificial skin. Not wishing to disturb it, they put Jones into the observation ward, and insist that he remain while they examine the healing process. There are no orders regarding him and intrusive tests. It's a very uncomfortable stay.

UTA

The original bandage, very carefully packaged, is sent to UTA's medical engineering facility by special courier. A full military escort takes over Rte 87 and runs to Great Falls international airport. There the courier and package are placed in an F-15E Strike Eagle. With a pre-cleared flight path and no speed restrictions, it can make the flight in less than an hour. It gets there a bit over an hour, takeoff and landing do take time. Everyone is suggesting tests, examinations, and anything else they can come up with to get an idea of how it works.
"We've got to get this, TOO!"
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2019.11.27 21:16 spindizzy_wizard Alien Crash : Part 03

Alien Crash : Part 03

Preface

I am absolutely amazed at the response this story has received. If I have failed to respond to your message personally, it is simply because I am swamped. I am having such an emotional high from this. Thank you all for your kindness and interest. I will endeavor to provide the best I can.

Introduction

In Part One, an alien craft is detected coming in over the North Atlantic, and deemed hostile as it appears to be bombarding the surface. The discovery that it is debris from a presumably badly damaged craft — which is over three miles long — changes the approach from "nuke it" to "guide it somewhere safe to land".
In Part Two, the craft successfully crash lands — successful in that it did not scatter itself across a hundred square miles of land — but suffers even more damage. The crew, what remains of them, have gathered; while the US military establishes cordons, and organizes the rescue crews attempting to reach the craft. An intrepid trio of young men are making a visual survey when a single alien comes out. First Contact!

Prologue

They appear friendly, and I have given orders for no action to be taken regardless of what happens to me. Of course, if I'm dead, I'm in no shape to give any orders. What happens then? Will depend on what happened to me.

Tyler's Team

"I don't know, but I think I'm getting a 'male' vibe off of 'him'. I'll go with male pronouns for now, anyone having a problem with that are welcome to make there comments... later! Obviously military for a bunch of reasons, and not just because he's on a warship. We're closing with each other, both of us have our arms outstretched."

Pilot

He's obviously talking, I would suppose that the visual transmission includes audio. "Scans, include the video feed from the camera to the translation computer. We have a far better idea what's going on here than over their broadcast system."
"Agreed, and working. ... We're getting better results now. ... Initial comment by subordinate is reminder to leader that they are armed. Leader ... Yes, leader orders no action regardless of consequences to him. ... Some ... badinage? ... between the leader and the operator. Suggest they are known to each other before this event. Leader and subordinate have worked together, but the relationship is not as complex as that between observer and leader. Subordinate is carrying extensive communications gear, which appears to be encrypted, and frequency hopping. Definitely a military style comms, even if it is still using (translation, phrase is mildly derogatory) radio waves."
"Be nice Scans, we're here for a very long time. Keep that in mind."

Tyler's Team

"I'm close enough now to make out detailed features, not bad. I'm going to try lowering my arms, this is getting stiff."
Tyler slowly lowers his arms, letting them sink to a normal resting position. The alien matches his movement. They stand and stare at each other.
"Welcome to Earth."

Pilot

"Pilot, seems to be opening statement inviting us to ... dirt? No, Earth their planet name."
I choose to execute a slight bow. "Scans, reverse translate 'Thank you'."

Tyler's Team

A mechanical voice, "Thank you".
Tyler returns the bow, "You are welcome. You have translator?"

Pilot

"Translation, extending further welcome including concept of replying to your statement. Translator working for some degree of communication. Subsequent statement is query... uncertain of last word."
"Scans, assume that it is 'translator', opinion?"
"90% probability"
"Translate 'yes'."
"Dangerous, we might be agreeing to something we will regret."
"Still..."

Inner HQ

"Sir! Radar is tracking light aircraft approaching alien craft from altitude! Looks like a dive bomb profile! No way is he going to pull up!"
"WARN THE TEAM! CAP! TAKE DOWN THAT AIRCRAFT!"
Rapid communications, nearest craft that could intercept in time is one of the armed helicopters.

Tyler's Team

The same mechanical voice, "Yes".
"TYLER! DOWN! DOWN! DOWN! INCOMING AIRCRAFT ATTACK!"
"SHIT!" I hope he understands!
Tyler is seen tackling the alien, and covering him with is own body. Everyone else on the team dives behind whatever cover they think will do them any good. Gilford is crouched, scanning around the sky looking for the incoming craft.
"PILOT! ARE YOU OKAY!"
"Affirmative! This is not an attack, they are all taking cover. Scan surrounding!"
"Scanning ... Light craft approaching at high speed, estimate attack, large quantity of chemical explosives aboard. Armed craft previously identified as observers are accelerating. Weapons going active. Scans going active. Estimate 90% defensive move. DO NOT FIRE, REPEAT DO NOT FIRE, THIS IS DEFENSIVE ACTION AGAINST HOSTILE NATIVE!"
"TYLER! I CAN SEE IT! I'VE GOT IT ON CAMERA! WOAH! LOTS OF BOXES STRAPPED TO CRAFT! HELICOPTERS ARE FIRING"
These are Apache AH-64, which have been armed with a variety of weapons, including Stinger air-to-air missiles. The choice is fortunate, all fixed wing aircraft are on search mode, or guarding against larger craft at higher altitudes. The seeker is a refined passive IR system that can track targets. The pilots are fortunate, there are no larger heat sources to distract the missiles. Three missiles are fired, they hit the aircraft — or what's left of it — triggering the explosives. They are commercial grade explosives, but the people who built this were aware of the ability to use ball bearings as fragmentation. Crude, but effective.
"PILOT! DEBRIS INCOMING!"
Gilford, covered by a fortunate piece of gear extending from the surface of the alien craft is unarmed; as is Jones. Tyler is less fortunate.
"Huh! I'm hit? Yes, I'm hit. Ooooh, not good."

Pilot

"Scans! Any impacts? I felt the one on top of me jerk!"
"Confirm impacts! Alien covering you is definitely injured. Body fluid leaking. No other significant impacts. Alien aircraft destroyed. Gunships are hovering, facing away from us, they've taken up close guard positions."
"Prep the medbay! I'm gong to bring the wounded one with me, as well as the other two, we need to get under cover." Heaving up, he quickly starts dragging Tyler into the craft, "Translate! FOLLOW ME!"

Tyler's Team

"Hey! He's taking Tyler inside!"
The mechanical voice, "COME ME!"
"HQ! We've been invited in! May lose contact, will attempt to contact every 15 minutes. No guarantees. Per Tyler's directive, TAKE NO HOSTILE ACTION! Gilford! Follow Me!"
"Hot Damn! Inside views! Recording!"
As they run to the entry, Jones takes up more of Tyler's weight, moving everyone faster into the alien craft. Once inside, the alien shifts grips on Tyler, bringing him into a more workable position for navigating the craft. Fortunately, there is an aide station near the cargo area. As they enter, they see many pallets of equipment. Mostly unknown. Gilford is sweeping everything in rapid arcs, trying to stay up with the others, and still get usable video. The further in they go, the worse the signal becomes. More aliens are seen, some with arms, some without, and one with a larger belt pack that he is taking various items out of.
"I think this one is a medic! Hope they don't kill him by accident!"
The 'medic' has taken out a small device, and runs it quickly over Tyler's body.
"Sufficient similarity for basic procedures to work. Bring him to aide station, will attempt control of bleeding and bandage wounds. Suggest contact aliens for extraction to their medical facilities."
As all of this has been going on, Scans has chosen to open the translator for free flow. The results are not always what was intended.
"... station ... blood ... removal ..."
"Jones? JONES! They're going to bleed him!"
"Tyler's orders! No offensive action regardless of consequences. Continue recording. Besides, I think that translator of theirs stinks."
Of course, that works in the other direction.
" ... order ... attack ... offensive ..."

Pilot

The armed aliens are reacting to the suggestion of an attack. Pilot is screaming.
"NEGATIVE! DO NOT ATTACK! DO NOT ATTACK! THEY ARE UNARMED!"
Several armed aliens already have their weapons out, but others move to knock the weapons aside. Some energy bolts are fired, but hit only the interior of the craft. The energy bloom is something else.

Tyler's Team

Jones is too close to one of the beams, the energy bloom burns him across the back, causing him to drop Tyler, and fall to the deck himself. Gilford is only lightly touched, but yells loudly anyway.
"STOP SHOOTING STOP SHOOTING!"
The only word that comes through is fortunate.
" ... stop ... stop ... "
As with all camera operators, Gilford continues operating his camera. Other aliens come forward to assist carrying Tyler and Jones to the aid station. Gilford follows, uncertain if his broadcast is being seen or not.

Apache Helicopter

"HQ, thermal systems show increased temperature in multiple locations of the alien craft's surface."
The specialist monitoring the video broadcast. "Shots fired! Shots fired!"
Major Lohman makes the critical decision.
"NO OFFENSIVE ACTION! ALERT DUSTOFF! EXTRACTION, ALIEN CRAFT. ALL HUMANS TO BE REMOVED FROM ALIEN CRAFT. NO OFFENSIVE ACTION! ENSURE OBSERVER IS PRESENT!"
It is most definitely the best decision he could have made.

Alien Craft

"THIS IS SCANS! SINGLE CRAFT APPROACHING AT SPEED. NOT HOSTILE. NOT HOSTILE. UNARMED!"
Unfortunately, there is always someone who doesn't get the word.
"Tracking.... Tracking... CLEAN SHOT!"
One of the surface guns intended for close in defense is still operative, and manned. The declaration of not hostile did not reach this individual. One of the earlier wild shots took out his communications, and has not yet been noticed.

Dustoff

Copilot, "SHIT! THEY JUST SHOT AT US!"
Pilot, "I KNOW! STILL GOING IN!"
The pilot is well known for bravery bordering on insanity. His copilot has been with him for a long time, but really doubts his judgment right now. The energy bolt cooked one side of the craft, and there are equipment warnings... It is a twin engine craft, but they're about to lose one of those engines. Assuming it doesn't just catastrophically fail.
Copilot, "Losing left engine!"
Pilot, "cut it now and foam it!"
The engine is shut off and the fire suppressant is activated. Fortunate for the crew, since the compressor disks would have explosively shattered within seconds. While still spinning, the reduction in stress and heat prevents the catastrophic failure.
The crew is in a real pucker factor situation, the craft is wounded, the side of the craft they'd normally exit on is melted together, and some of the crew were lightly burned on that side. Not debilitating, but rather like getting a severe sunburn in seconds.
Pilot, "Un-ass on the right side when we're down! I'll rotate to put that side towards the opening. Don't waste time! We're going to have trouble if you do!"

Inner HQ

"DAMNIT!"
"SIR! SIR! DO WE RETURN FIRE?!"
"NEGATIVE!"

Whitehouse

"They shot at an evac helicopter?!?"
"Mr. President, I have seen panic reactions before. It always happens that someone doesn't get the word, and a shot is made that shouldn't have been. You will notice that there has been no second shot."

Alien Craft

Pilot is now screaming, "GET THAT BASTARD OUT OF HIS BLISTER AND SHOOT HIM! ON THE TOP! OPENLY!"
An older alien, roughly equivalent to an E7 Sergeant, is a little more cool headed. He leads the team to open the blister, and drags the misfortunate gunner out.
"Did you hear the non-hostile declaration?"
"No, Sergeant!"
"You'd better hope that I find out your comms were down, because if they aren't, you're dead."
Checking the comms, the Sergeant does confirm that they were out. It doesn't make up for the shot, but it does buy the gunner a chance.
"Gunner! You're going to be put under restraints, and sent out to the locals. You will cooperate with them to the very best of your ability. If they shoot you, we will consider it a justified execution. If they don't, you might get to live when you get back on board."
The gunner is now terrified, but obedient. The alternative is immediate execution. He is placed in improvised restraints, the usual restraints being unavailable; stripped of all arms, and marched up to the surface.

Dustoff

The medical crew has jumped out with commendable speed, taking three baskets with them. As they enter on the run, the gunner is marched out, and presented at the helicopter. The observer is covering the entire action.
"What the heck are we supposed to do with this guy?"

Inner HQ

"That must be the poor sucker who didn't get the word."
"Yes, Specialist, it probably is. I think they're making a peace offering. The one who screwed up, in order to save the ship."
"Send to Dustoff: Take prisoner on board, strap him down in a basket, and bring him out with the others. Try to be gentle, but if he resists, get him in that basket however you have to."

Dustoff

"Prisoner? Okay, let's see if we can get him in a basket. No place else for him."
Repeated pantomime finally gets the point across. Reluctantly, the prisoner lays in one of the baskets. When he panics at being strapped in. He's held down and strapped in anyway. He continues to struggle against the straps.

Inside Alien Craft

The Dustoff team comes running in with their stretchers. That same E7 Sargent equivalent looks at them, and the baskets, and points to the aid station. The team lead salutes, and moves on through.
"Scans? Purpose of arm gesture?"
"Not sure. Acknowledgment of order or indication of respect?"
In the aid station, the team is amazed to see the bleeding stopped, and the bandages holding. Knowing that Taylor has sustained blood loss, they insert an IV for normal saline. That brings the blood volume back up to something the heart can pump effectively, and Taylor's color improves. Monitoring heart rate, pressure and other factors, they determine that the internal bleeding must have already been stopped. The team lead smiles (fortunately closed mouthed) and nods at the medical tech who has been hovering around scanning pretty much everyone and everything in sight.
"Sodium chloride solution 9%, blood volume expander. Presumed normal being scanned, assume normal values. Compare against other scans, establish ranges. Multiple blood types, some interactions potentially severe. Decline direct transfusion without exact match. Patient one showing increased vitals, not normal, but better. Patient two is ... experiencing pain? ... but is relatively normal. Observer, unusual chemicals in bloodstream. Possibly fight/flight mechanism. Computer, synthesize and generate treatment for blood loss and stabilization."
The med tech, seeing the alien nod, nods back.

Dustoff

"Okay, we've got this one stabilized, how's the other one doing?"
"Pain, shockey, can't tell what the burns are like the bandage gets in the way. We'll have to take him ... Hey!"

Alien Medic

Ah, they need to see the wound. "Move scanner into place, display visual below bandage." The scanner moves gently into place, nudging the human tech out of the way. The display comes on. The medic moves to the scanner, and demonstrates how to view deeper, and how to narrow the view for magnification.

Dustoff

"Holy... We have GOT to get one of these!" A very emphatic nod to the alien medic, who smiles back, closed mouth, and nods in return. "I've got second and possibly third degree burns. Observer! Get over here and record this monitor." The scanner is adjusted to show the full depth of the injury, and certain portions are enlarged for detailed view.

Walter Reed / John Hopkins / Mayo Clinic

"We absolutely have to have that technology."

UTA Biomedical Engineering (University of Texas / Austin)

"How the heck did they...?"
"Improvement on the terahertz imaging systems?"
"Let's see if we can..."
"Hold up there! That's an expensive..!" CRACK "Aw, shit. How are we going to explain this to the professor?"
"What do you mean? He's the one that cracked it!"

Walter Reed

"They have what? ... Fine, I'll send a team down to look over their shoulders. We need that ASAP."
Replay that for every major medical institute and university in the US. Shortly reprised by every such institute in the world.

Whitehouse

The Secretary of Health and Human Services is having a very loud conversation with multiple other Cabinet members. "No! We are not going to restrict access to critical medical advances! Even to the Chinese! What we are going to do is establish a nearby center where they can observe and advise without getting in the way of the engineers." You might even call it an argument. The President finally puts an end to it, by slamming his hand down on the table.
"Gentle beings, and I use that term loosely for some of you. We are not going to hold medical technology derived from the aliens hostage to political issues. She's right. See to establishing the center. Do not interfere with their communication home. If one of them turns out to be interested in more than just medical research, gently — I say again gently — send them home; with a polite suggestion that the replacement concentrate on medical research."

Dustoff

The human team lead, having saluted the alien medic, directs the team to evacuate to the helicopter for a return to the HQ mobile army hospital.
"Hey? What's this guy doing in here?"
"Prisoner? He was turned over to us tied up. We got him in the basket, then had to keep him down while we strapped him in. He's been fighting the straps ... he stopped!"
"Must have seen we brought our own out in these. I think I can understand a bit of fear in an unfamiliar environment." The lead pats the alien on the shoulder and smiles. They've been watching the aliens smile, and they have all been closed mouth. Good observation on their part. The alien relaxes a bit, and carefully smiles back.

D&D Meetup / Duluth, Minnesota

"Uh, guys? Did you get a good look at those aliens?"
"Who cares... We're at the boss fight, you in or out?"
"He looks like an elf."
A moment of quietness, followed by a stampede for the big monitor sometimes used for large scale multi-person gaming.
"He's right!"
"Has anyone else posted that?"
"Not that we can see!"
"WHOOHOO! FIRST!"

Whitehouse

"Mr. President, this just came in from the cyber team. A group in Duluth, Minnesota commented that the aliens look rather like elves. The consensus is that they're correct. The images match the most common descriptions of elves. Some are arguing for Vulcans, but they're in the minority, these people do not show the characteristics for blue blood, or desert adaptation."
"You don't think... "
"Mr. President, at this point I am NOT thinking. There's too much coming in too fast. I'm just trying to keep up with the flow, and bring you the tidbits that seem most important or interesting.
Mr. President, do you have any orders considering the alien prisoner?"
"First, tell the doctors to keep their fucking hands off. No intrusive procedures, not even a thermometer. You can tell he's scared out of his mind. Second, although his movement is restricted, he is not to be treated harshly. He's not your normal prisoner. Third, see if there's some way we can get him communications with the ship. At a minimum, he needs to be able to talk with higher. Ideally, he's connected to their translator, so we can start working on language. Fourth, while we suspect that he was the individual who fired the shot at the dustoff, we do not have proof that he did so; only guesses that could be wildly inaccurate. Fifth, even if he did fire the shot (a) he did not fire a second shot, and (b) there is always someone who doesn't get the word. Like that idiot with the light aircraft who caused the whole medical problem, and may have poisoned the well.
He's scared. He's afraid he's going to be executed, possibly in a very unpleasant manner. He also appeared, to me, to be relatively young. Consider him a PFC who's made a really, really, stupid mistake; not an enemy combatant."
"Mr. President, I will relay those orders. You know some people are going to be stupid about this too."
"If they do, you are to strip them of rank and privilege, and put them in cells where the alien can see them. His quarters will be in the same block when he is not needed elsewhere. Every time they get stupid again, ... I dunno, fire hose them? Something appropriate, whatever it is."
"Mr. President? I'm trying to decide if that's genius, or a recipe for disaster."

Inner HQ / Medical Hospital

"Dustoff is here! Are we all prepped?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Okay, gunshot to bay one. Burn to bay two. Alien? What the hell do we do with an alien?!?"
"Dissect him?"
"You'd better have been joking. Stash him in bay three with a guard. A friendly guard."

Surface, Alien Ship

Mr. Gilford has been, inadvertently, left behind. "Aw, Shit. I'm so dead."
Placing his video camera on top of some convenient outcropping of metal, he walks in front of it. "Excuse me, but I've been left behind on the alien craft. Could someone please pick me up before I get shot for leaving Tyler? It wasn't my choice."

Inner HQ

"That went out live, didn't it."
"Per orders, Sir!"
Sigh "Get another dustoff out there to pick that poor sucker up. Even if we don't kill him, higher might."

Reaction

The public, in general, is laughing their heads off.
The political scene is the usual circus.
The legal scene is filing lawsuits all over the place for illegal detainment, threats of violence, and other abuses of civil rights. The court cases are going to go on forever.

Whitehouse

sigh "William? Will you please find out what orders were actually given?"

Inner HQ / Medical Hospital

"That alien doc did good work. Tyler is not bleeding internally, and the transfusions are bringing his blood volume back to normal. He may need some rehab, but he's going to live."
That little announcement makes the rounds VERY fast. Jones, on the other hand, "Hey Doc? Can I get out of here?"
"What? You've got second and third degree burns! Get back in that bed!"
"I feel fine. The bandage even fell off on it's own."
"IT WHAT! BAY TWO! STAT!"
The medical team is ... puzzled. Jones' burns have been ... reduced ... not eliminated. The dead skin has been debrided, and covered with what appears to be some sort of transparent artificial skin. Not wishing to disturb it, they put Jones into the observation ward, and insist that he remain while they examine the healing process. There are no orders regarding him and intrusive tests. It's a very uncomfortable stay.

UTA

The original bandage, very carefully packaged, is sent to UTA's medical engineering facility by special courier. A full military escort takes over Rte 87, and runs to Great Falls international airport. There the courier and package are placed in a F-15E Strike Eagle. With a pre-cleared flight path, and no speed restrictions, it can make the flight in less than an hour. It gets there just a few hours later. Everyone is suggesting tests, examinations, and anything else they can come up with to get an idea how it works.
"We've got to get this, TOO!"

Postscript

Okay folks... I needed a break, so you get this part early. The next part may be more than a day or two away. I need to figure out some things.
  1. Where is Tyler going? As good as he's done, he also stepped on the toes of the entire first contact team by jumping the gun. Sure, he had good reason, but it's still going to make some people rather irate.
  2. Where is the crew of the alien ship going? What are their goals.
  3. What the heck shot their ship to pieces, and (when) is it going to show up at Earth?
IF YOU HAVE WHAT YOU BELIEVE ARE GOOD SUGGESTIONS, PLEASE PM ME!
I don't want the story spoiled for people who hate spoilers. Please?
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