The Ayreon Incident
Posted: Sun Jul 12, 2009 3:23 pm
MoMA SDI Facility Z009, due west of Port Illumination
"Sir, tracking four contacts moving north-westerly about 40 km due east of here."
"Estimated speed? Height?"
"2,204 ft. Air speed not exceeding 40 mph."
"Dragons then. No further action to be taken. No need to log contact. I'll be in the ready room if needed."
"Sir."
Some might be surprised at the subdued reaction of Colonel Jian, but the truth of the matter is that dragons while fantastical elsewhere, say in Antica or the like, are decidedly mundane in the County of Illumination which, for reasons never quite explained, exists in a sort of discontinuity which 'envisioning' of all manner of decidedly magical phenomena. As such where a report of unexplained flying dragons (UFD) might elsewhere have been enough to attract the undesirable attentions of the Directorate of Anomalous Phenomena, in Illumination a standing order exists that 'envisioned biologicals' were not to be monitored or reported, it being a waste of resources. Forms in triplicate etcetera.
The Colonel had barely finished preparing his cup of Chai in the comfort of his ready room when klaxon began to wail signalling a general alert. The sort of alarm siren that sounded a little like an air raid warning without the edge of definite danger and a slight blurring effect of befuddlement thrown in. Z Sites had been equipped with unusually expressive sirens.
Rather than leave his chai to stew, which would have been unpardonable, the Colonel brought it with him back to the Operations Room. The duty officer, a F.N.G. lieutenant assigned straight from Fort Foley, was looking suitably apologetic in anticipation of the fierce scowl from the Colonel which alighted upon him.
"Well?" Jian enquired irritably. If this was another dragon the Colonel was resolved to have the newbie up on a charge.
"Large contact, altitude 41,000 ft and descending from the north-east, on a bearing that brings it directly down on our position."
"Define large, lieutenant."
"'The Marianas Turkey's Revenge' large Sir."
"Sweet Sakat... prep the THAAD Launchers. Is anybody else tracking this?"
"Just Z010 & Z011 at this time, Sir."
"Get the Commcen to raise Novaya Sorensk, flash traffic. Has anyone heard from ISI?"
"Nothing Sir... wait... incoming signal."
"What? From ISI?"
"No Sir. From the contact."
"Well? What's it saying?"
"It's... it's identifying itself... as... Zurvan be merciful, its the Kaiser Ayreon!"
The Colonel drank his chai whilst making the sort of slurping noise consistent with that of a thoroughly distracted and worried man. Behemoth Class Gravship Carriers were not to be triflled with, and most certainly not nearly fired upon. To have done so would have been not so much a career ending mistake as a life ending one.
"Lieutenant, stand the launchers down. Never mind Novaya Sorensk, notify Fort Foley. Imperial Strategic Forces have broken their purdah, it'll be up to the MoMA to figure out why."
"Uh - Sir? The Ayreon is requesting permission to dock at our facility?"
"Dock? DOCK? Are they crazy? This is an SDI facility not a fucking space port. Tell them permission denied."
THIS IS COMMODORE KODOS COMMANDER OF THE IRS KAISER AYREON I. wE ARE MONITORING YOUR SITE COMMUNICATIONS - HELPED BY YOUR TALKING OVER AN OPEN CHANNEL
Colonel Jian glared viciously at the Lieutenant who had left the comms channel open during his choice outburst.
BE ADVISED WE ARE AWARE OF THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN AN SDI FACILITY AND A FUCK-ING SPACE PORT.
Colonel Jian coughed nervously before speaking. "My apologies of course, but it is just a question of practicalities, we only have a berthing station designed for a Panopticon Horus."
THIS IS IRRELEVANT. DOCKING MECHANISMS ARE IDENTICAL.
"Err..."
INTEROPERABLE MACHINE PARTS. VERY EFFICIENT SOLUTION. DO NOT QUESTION.
"No I wouldn't dream of it, wouldn't dream of it. The only problem is I cannot grant you permission to use that berthing station as our Horus is already docked."
BE ADVISED TO RECOLLECT WHICH OF US IS IN POSSESSION OF AN ON-BOARD ION CANNON AS PART OF INTEGRATED WEAPONS SYSTEM. ANSWER IT WOULD BE US. WE EXPECT THIS FACTOR TO INFLUENCE CONSIDERATIONS REGARDING PERMISSION TO DOCK.
"Permission granted in that case... could we have fifteen minutes to move the blimp?"
YOU HAVE TEN. COMMUNICATION ENDS.
"Well, that was... odd..." said the Colonel as he slumped into a chair and starred vacantly at the ceiling wondering what else could possibly go wrong.
"Sir? I have the MoMA on the line for you. Do you want me to transfer his call to your desk?"
Fuck.
"Sir, tracking four contacts moving north-westerly about 40 km due east of here."
"Estimated speed? Height?"
"2,204 ft. Air speed not exceeding 40 mph."
"Dragons then. No further action to be taken. No need to log contact. I'll be in the ready room if needed."
"Sir."
Some might be surprised at the subdued reaction of Colonel Jian, but the truth of the matter is that dragons while fantastical elsewhere, say in Antica or the like, are decidedly mundane in the County of Illumination which, for reasons never quite explained, exists in a sort of discontinuity which 'envisioning' of all manner of decidedly magical phenomena. As such where a report of unexplained flying dragons (UFD) might elsewhere have been enough to attract the undesirable attentions of the Directorate of Anomalous Phenomena, in Illumination a standing order exists that 'envisioned biologicals' were not to be monitored or reported, it being a waste of resources. Forms in triplicate etcetera.
The Colonel had barely finished preparing his cup of Chai in the comfort of his ready room when klaxon began to wail signalling a general alert. The sort of alarm siren that sounded a little like an air raid warning without the edge of definite danger and a slight blurring effect of befuddlement thrown in. Z Sites had been equipped with unusually expressive sirens.
Rather than leave his chai to stew, which would have been unpardonable, the Colonel brought it with him back to the Operations Room. The duty officer, a F.N.G. lieutenant assigned straight from Fort Foley, was looking suitably apologetic in anticipation of the fierce scowl from the Colonel which alighted upon him.
"Well?" Jian enquired irritably. If this was another dragon the Colonel was resolved to have the newbie up on a charge.
"Large contact, altitude 41,000 ft and descending from the north-east, on a bearing that brings it directly down on our position."
"Define large, lieutenant."
"'The Marianas Turkey's Revenge' large Sir."
"Sweet Sakat... prep the THAAD Launchers. Is anybody else tracking this?"
"Just Z010 & Z011 at this time, Sir."
"Get the Commcen to raise Novaya Sorensk, flash traffic. Has anyone heard from ISI?"
"Nothing Sir... wait... incoming signal."
"What? From ISI?"
"No Sir. From the contact."
"Well? What's it saying?"
"It's... it's identifying itself... as... Zurvan be merciful, its the Kaiser Ayreon!"
The Colonel drank his chai whilst making the sort of slurping noise consistent with that of a thoroughly distracted and worried man. Behemoth Class Gravship Carriers were not to be triflled with, and most certainly not nearly fired upon. To have done so would have been not so much a career ending mistake as a life ending one.
"Lieutenant, stand the launchers down. Never mind Novaya Sorensk, notify Fort Foley. Imperial Strategic Forces have broken their purdah, it'll be up to the MoMA to figure out why."
"Uh - Sir? The Ayreon is requesting permission to dock at our facility?"
"Dock? DOCK? Are they crazy? This is an SDI facility not a fucking space port. Tell them permission denied."
THIS IS COMMODORE KODOS COMMANDER OF THE IRS KAISER AYREON I. wE ARE MONITORING YOUR SITE COMMUNICATIONS - HELPED BY YOUR TALKING OVER AN OPEN CHANNEL
Colonel Jian glared viciously at the Lieutenant who had left the comms channel open during his choice outburst.
BE ADVISED WE ARE AWARE OF THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN AN SDI FACILITY AND A FUCK-ING SPACE PORT.
Colonel Jian coughed nervously before speaking. "My apologies of course, but it is just a question of practicalities, we only have a berthing station designed for a Panopticon Horus."
THIS IS IRRELEVANT. DOCKING MECHANISMS ARE IDENTICAL.
"Err..."
INTEROPERABLE MACHINE PARTS. VERY EFFICIENT SOLUTION. DO NOT QUESTION.
"No I wouldn't dream of it, wouldn't dream of it. The only problem is I cannot grant you permission to use that berthing station as our Horus is already docked."
BE ADVISED TO RECOLLECT WHICH OF US IS IN POSSESSION OF AN ON-BOARD ION CANNON AS PART OF INTEGRATED WEAPONS SYSTEM. ANSWER IT WOULD BE US. WE EXPECT THIS FACTOR TO INFLUENCE CONSIDERATIONS REGARDING PERMISSION TO DOCK.
"Permission granted in that case... could we have fifteen minutes to move the blimp?"
YOU HAVE TEN. COMMUNICATION ENDS.
"Well, that was... odd..." said the Colonel as he slumped into a chair and starred vacantly at the ceiling wondering what else could possibly go wrong.
"Sir? I have the MoMA on the line for you. Do you want me to transfer his call to your desk?"
Fuck.