Stories

[G.Bone]

For those exchanges and wars that exceed more than 6 paragraphs.

[Leej]

Do you mean by that that this thread is a meta topic for such things?

[G.Bone]

what the hell is a meta topic?

[Michael]

It is where you post everything rather than just posting topics that push more important ones off the top of the page

[G.Bone]

actually, no. it's just for writing stories where prime minister X has declared war on country Y and we as readers watch minions of country X invade country Y.

[Diamond]

Do you mean by that that this thread is a meta topic for such things?

Meaning you think there ought to be a Stories Sub-Forum to the ME Sub-Forum, right?

Good idea. Otherwise if we try to post every story and/or interaction in this one thread, its gonna get confusing real quick.

[G.Bone]

Well, let's just post the "beginning" stories here, and then create another thread for those after that.

[Leej]

Meaning you think there ought to be a Stories Sub-Forum to the ME Sub-Forum, right?

Good idea. Otherwise if we try to post every story and/or interaction in this one thread, its gonna get confusing real quick.

No I'm against sub forums in here.
By a meta topic I just mean this would have been made a sticky at the top of the screen and links to the various topics which contain stories put in here for easy navigation incase we go onto a few pages.

[Diamond]

PART ONE

South Hebrides Sea, 0815 hours, 1 August 2004

Air Lieutenant David Takeshi pulled gently back on the throttle of his sleek FA4 Diviner. The jet climbed up the sky’s blue canvas with no more effort than a fish swimming through a pond.

Static crackled briefly, then a voice spoke through his earphones. “How’s she handling, Lieutenant?”

David smiled and replied, “You wouldn’t believe it, Admiral. Smoother than a baby’s ass, and--”

“That’s quite all right, Lieutenant,” Admiral Nathan Takeshi, David’s father and commanding officer, replied. The Admiral spoke Ninglish, as did David, as did the rest of the New Hebrides Fleet of the Imperial Japanese Navy. Like so much else in the Empire, its language was the product of centuries of fusion between Japanese and British customs and culture. Though Japan had been free from British rule for a century and a half and was now a Power in its own right, the legacy of its sister island on the other side of the globe was indelibly stamped into its citizens.

“Sorry, sir,” David replied, suddenly conscious of the senior officers, engineers, and politicians that were no doubt listening to the conversation and were probably shaking their heads in humor or disgust back on the bridge of the Typhoon, the Elemental-class dreadnought flagship of the Fleet.

“Lieutenant, Eric Soames here; do you, uh, copy?”

David rolled his eyes. Civilians, he thought. And politicians… even worse. “I copy, Minister Soames.”

Soames, the Deputy Minister of Defense, sounded a little more sure of himself when he spoke again. “Ah, I was wondering, Lieutenant Takeshi, if you might try something a little more fancy? Let’s see exactly what our stirling and pence have bought, eh?”

David shrugged mentally. If you insist…

A thin trickle of sweat was creeping down the side of his head and into the collar of his flight suit, but he ignored it and gave his craft all the power he could stand without blacking out. The jet stood on its tail and a plume of white-hot exhaust spat from its thrusters like dragon’s breath. The micro-fusion plant, the marvel of engineering the warplane was built around, kicked the jet so far up that the sky began to take on the sullen and bruised look of near-space.

His body pushed back by the gees into his jelly-foam flight couch, David involuntarily whooped with glee. He heard someone laugh over the open line, someone that sounded suspiciously like his father. Bet the old man would give his left arm to be up here.

Eventually, its operational ceiling reached, the Diviner leveled off. Far, far below, the Pacific Ocean stretched out like a courtesan’s azure gown, sprinkled here and there with the emeralds and topazes of the New Hebrides, Johnslands, and all the other island chains that made up the southern reaches of Imperial Japan. In front of his craft and perched at the limit of his vision, where the Earth itself seemed to disappear and curve, David could barely make out the bulk of the British Dominion of Drakesland.

Not too far above him was the blackness of space. Wonder if the Continentals are getting an eyeful? It was more than likely; one of the Franco-Chinese Alliance’s three space stations, the Glorious Leader, should be passing by any time now.

As if on cue, his radar began picking up small objects some miles above and behind him – the Leader’s forward scout drones, constantly roving ahead of the massive space station like a pack of hunting wolves.

Technicians back on the Typhoon had also picked them up. The Admiral spoke in David’s ear: “All right, I think we can assume operational ceiling tests are a smashing success; the Continentals are probably wondering why we’d send a manned missile at them. Let’s have you come on back, Lieutenant. Why don’t you execute a Great White Three?”

Father and son were alike in many ways; David could picture the sly grin on the Admiral’s lips. “Aye sir, executing Great White Three.”

Pushing forward on the stick, David sent the Diviner’s nose straight down, pointing the jet at the ocean like a spear from heaven. Quicker than thought, the jet sliced down, pushing the limits of her pilot’s endurance. David felt his vision begin to gray-out around the edges and bit down on a tube dangling inside the mouthpiece of his helmet.

The pressure-sensitive tube transmitted his bite to his flight suit medcomp, and the computer responded by injecting him with a measured dose of adrenaline and pseudophetamines, bringing him fully alert and sharpening his vision to almost painful clarity.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye and was in reality probably only seconds slower, the Diviner thundered back into the lower atmosphere above the Hebrides Sea, trailing a series of sonic booms behind it like the hand-claps of God. A mile away from the Fleet the jet suddenly leveled off, just as it looked as if it would crash into the ocean.

The high-stress of the maneuver made the medcomp kick out another shot, and David clenched his teeth as the chemical stew blasted through his veins.

The Diviner shot over the water like a living thing. Less than fifty feet below, the green waves parted like a curtain, giving the jet an eighty-foot high bridal train of salt spray and water extending a quarter-mile back behind her.

A scant 100 yards from the Typhoon’s flight deck, the Diviner pulled up and skimmed across the dreadnought, its accompanying wall of water breaking like a briny waterfall over the flight crews whooping and cheering David on.


IJS Typhoon, 0825 hours, 1 August 2004

On the Typhoon’s bridge, Admiral Nathan Takeshi grinned, his expression a mirror image of his son’s at that moment. Deputy Minister Soames involuntarily ducked as the jet whipped by; the half-foot thick carbonglass windows vibrated at its passage.

Keiko Masoda, the Imperial New Network reporter who’d tagged along with Soames to cover the Diviner’s maiden flight, laughed delightedly and clapped her hands like a schoolgirl. Her cameraman made sure to include the cowering Soames in the shot as he panned across Keiko to the Admiral.

Bet that will get some nice air-time tonight, Nathan thought. He loathed Soames, and any chance to blamelessly humiliate him like this was to be savored. “It’s perfectly safe, Deputy Minister,” he said, placing a hand on the man’s elbow.

“I’m fine,” Soames growled, throwing off the Admiral’s hand. His hazel eyes were narrowed in embarrassment and anger, the fine epicanthic folds around them tightening like pliers. His neatly-trimmed mustache and beard quivered in righteous indignation.

One of the other VIP’s on the bridge, Representative Miranda Mulawi, coughed discreetly and hid her smile behind one petite, red-nailed hand. She was an old friend of Nathan’s and, like him, was none too fond of Soames. The night before, they’d drunk a toast to the Empire and cursed Defense Minister Langston for coming down with a bad case of influenza and sending his idiot deputy in his place.

Nathan turned and spoke to an openly smirking Sub-Lieutenant manning the flight communications boards. “Bring our bird back in… and tell him to leave the water in the ocean, where it belongs.” He gave the junior officer a cold glare.

“Aye, sir.” The Sub-Lieutenant gulped and wiped his grin off his face.

Soames was standing as far away from the bridge windows as he could get, fussily straightening the sleeves of his 1000-stirling suit. “Is your son always so… rash, Admiral?”

“Lieutenant Takeshi was simply executing an order from his commanding officer, sir,” the Admiral replied. “If there is any blame, it’s mine.”

Soames sniffed and gave his suit coat one last tug. “Well then, my advice to you is to take a little more care with His Imperial Majesty’s property, Admiral. Have you any idea how much that jet cost?”

“I’m well aware, Deputy Minister,” Nathan replied, unable to resist the poke at Soames’ less than overwhelming authority. He noticed the INN crew a few feet away, still filming. “Any words for the folks at home, Mr. Soames?”

The smaller man’s head jerked up like a hyena whose meal had been interrupted. He paled visibly when Keiko Masoda stuck a pencil-thin mike in his face. “Ah… your Majesty… and all citizens of the Japanese Empire… ah, this is truly a great advance for our armed forces.” He swallowed, clearly uncomfortable without a prepared script in front of him. “This new jet, the first of its kind anywhere, will stand ready to uphold the call of liberty anywhere in the world.”

Nice recovery, Nathan thought. Leave it to a politician to land on his feet.

“Thank you, Minister Soames,” Keiko said, then had to step hastily out of the way as Soames bulled past her. She made a cutting gesture to her cameraman, and the ‘ready’ light on the small, hand-held unit went dark.

“You’ll here from me later, Takeshi,” Soames hissed, then stormed off the bridge, nearly knocking down his enlisted escort.

There was muted laughter across the bridge as the Minister left. “Stow it, people,” Nathan said. “Let’s wrap up flight ops and prepare to head back to Williamston.”

He turned to his XO, a dour, red-haired man of mixed Scots-Javanese heritage. “Captain Mackenzie, you have the bridge.”

“Aye sir.” Mackenzie nodded towards the flight-comm officer, who began to clear Lieutenant Takeshi for landing.

The Admiral slipped his brimmed cap on and made his way to the hatch. “Ladies, gentlemen, if you would, follow me down to the flight deck and we’ll congratulate our pilot on his safe return. It’s not every day you get to scrape the belly of the Glorious Leader.” A wave of laughter greeted him.

As they filed off the bridge, Keiko stayed close to Nathan’s elbow. “What exactly is it with you and Soames?”

Nathan sighed and a rueful grin twisted his lips. “It’s a long story. And really not fit for public comsumption.”

The INN staffer had the grace to blush. “Ah well, can’t blame a girl for trying, eh?”

“You’re no girl, Miss Masoda. You’re a reporter.” To soften the jibe, he offered her his elbow and they continued down towards the flight deck in the midst of the excited VIP’s.

[G.Bone]

cool story, although I would have thought that there would be more spanish in the lingo instead of just Japanese/English.

[Diamond]

cool story, although I would have thought that there would be more spanish in the lingo instead of just Japanese/English.

Thanks.

There was much less Spanish influence in the Far East in this TL; for instance, Spain only had the southern parts of the New Hebrides (OTL Philippines), and even there, actual Spanish on the ground were few. Britain was the senior partner as far as colonizing the Far East went. There are some Spanish place names and a few slang words, but not many.

Also, the dialogue in the story is translated into OTL English for ease in reading. :)

[Leej]

I think it'd be better for stories to have their own topic and then link to them in here.
As for the story, I've just got in from work, I'll read it later.

[Tetsu]

This is a quick story I wrote up just for fun. It does not actually involve my country, but rather the universe it came from; just for a little extra history. This is set during the tail end of the Third Global War.
-------------------------

NOVEMBER 22ND, 1909. 302 KILOMETERS SOUTHEAST OF THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS.

Admiral Sun Zhandou peered out of the window of the aircraft carrier Sea Dragon's island off into the distance. The enemy carriers were spread out along the horizon, and a massive air battle could be seen materializing in the clouds above. Pillars of smoke fumed from the distant deck of a battleship.
"Admiral," came the voice of someone; Zhandou was too fixated on the distant battle ahead of them to turn to face the man speaking to him. "We are almost within range."
The admiral sucked in a large breath. His uniform, tautly tailored to his slim, lean body, became tighter as his diaphragm expanded. After a moment, he exhaled. "How close are we?" came his whispered reply.
The sailor looked down at the computer display. "In two minutes we will be within range."
Zhandou said nothing.
"The missile is primed and ready to fire." The man sensed something was amiss in Zhandou's mind. "You have the authority to override this mission, sir."
"No," said Zhandou. "We will carry out this mission. I gave the Emperor my word that we will emerge victorious." He began to relax.
A captain, a portly man by the name of Chiang Zhen-kai, came forward. "I assure you, Admiral, that what we will see here today will be monumentous. The forces of Islam will have no equal to the destructive power we now possess. This power is precisely what this mission is to show them."
Zhandou sighed, wanting to waste no time on grandeur. "How many warhips are engaged with our forces ahead?"
"There are three carriers, sir, we have identified them as the Viracocha, the Pachacuti, and the Mano Capac. There are four other battleships. It is a relatively small grouping, but they are currently only engaged by our planes; our carriers are convienently... out of the way."
"Sir," came the unseen man's voice again. "We are within range."
Admiral Sun Zhandou narrowed his case at the Inca warships ahead. After a momentary pause, he spoke.
"Fire at will."
"Sir, yes, sir."
"Order all Chinese planes to scatter. Any direction. Tell them to get as far away from the carrier grouping as possible." After he had spoken, Admiral Zhandou let out a deep sigh, and closed his eyes.

The missile, called "Dragon's Talon", a variant of the superb Byzantine design code-named "Gabriel", lanced out of it's launcher, blasting toward the carrier group at near-supersonic speed. Miles away, Chinese pilots frantically blasted away from the missile's intended targets. The Incan officers aboard the Virachocha were completely focused on why the Chinese planes suddenly "lost interest." More Incan jets sortied, blasting after their Chinese counterparts. In the end, the confusion may have saved the lives of a few Incan pilots, but for most it was too late. Within a minute, the missile found it's way into the middle of the carrier grouping, and the last thing any of the frantic Incan sailors ever saw was a brilliant flash of light, devoid of sound. From then on, they found out whether Allah would greet them in Paradise upon dying a warrior's death.

Admiral Zhandou's closed eyes did not help him. The light engulfed him, shining through his tightly shut eyelids. When he finally opened his eyes, he took an involuntary step backwards. He was mesmerized; the white flash had given way to a massive mushroom cloud that seemed to swallow the midday sun.
"Two Incan carriers have been nearly vaporized!" cried a faceless officer. "The other is severely damaged! Only one battleship is still afloat."
Captain Zhen-kai beamed. "It worked! The damned thing worked." He turned to face the crew, at least the crew present in the island. "We've won the war, now. Nothing the forces of Islam possess can possibly match the might of China!"
Admiral Zhandou let a nervous smile sweep across his face.
The captain again turned to the admiral. Grinning like an idiot, he said, "Well, Admiral? Are you now satisfied in our ability to win this war? By the end of the year, any Islamic capital you can think of could be destroyed by our new weapon. Majiriti, Baghdad, Kumbi Saleh, even goddamed Cuzco."
And destroy innocent civilians? Zhandou thought. He did not say it.
"The weapon's effectiveness has indeed been proven here," Zhandou replied after some thought. "But I believe that destroying entire cities should not be the purpose of our new atomic weapons. It is not the innocent people who are fighting this war."
Zhen-kai thought for a moment. "Perhaps you are right, Admiral. But I can assure you, that no matter where we decide to use our might, China can never be stopped."
--------------

(Note: Like I said, the story reallly doesn't have a point, nor a connection to SME. Just a little ATL fun. :D )

[G.Bone]

Here's a bit of story I started with FME 'fore it got shot down for inaccuracy on government. Mind you- this is just a story and please don't shoot it down (again).
=======================================
Procurator-Governor- An appointed representative from the Federal government, this post was created in the Treaty of 1895 in order to deal with American interests in the Kingdom. Over time the responsibilities of this post slowly evolved to dealing with judiciary and military problems of the nation-state. During WW2 the post was added even more power when martial law was declared due to the strike at Pearl Harbor. To this day the Procurator-Governor oversees any issues that might deal with Federal interests both in law enforcement, military, grants from the Federal government, as well as environmental issues.

Procurator-General- This post was created in 1936 due to conflicts between civilian and military personnel on land ownership. Unlike the Procurator-Governor, much of the duties of this post have not included additional powers over time. To this day, much of the Procurator-General oversees any issues that might arise with the US military and the civilian population

-Excerpt from "Guide to Hawaiian Government"
Pamphlet, printed by the US Library of Congress Publications
Copyright 1976

---

Journal of Baruch "Benny" Mau Sung Yee
Procurator-General of the Protectorate Kingdom of Hawaii

August 1st, 2003

I have decided to go fishing. After all, I do need the break. I have not gone fishing since two weeks ago when that scandal broke out on the Budget Committee in the City Council. Apparently much of the general public was unaware of Councilman Ron Nakamura's shenanigans in trying to funnel the money in the Hurricane Fund to help his district. Not that I am against making the city more green but that money could be used in other uses, such as preventing further financial problems for natural disaster victims.

So Councilman Ron Nakamura was taken into custody and had to resign his position due to his conduct. But this is not the only scandal that has hit the local government. There was Senator Jack White before him in April, Chairman Wallace Ming of the Travel Bureau in February, and Representative Ah Young Mau of McCully. HM King Kuhio has his plate full of controversy.

As a result, there has been covert meetings between HM King Kuhio and Jon (*) on helping to counter this ever growing problem of graft in the state. Naturally, state agencies would be handling such a matter. However, with the prospects of the budget being smaller than the previous year due to the recession in Japan, there have been several covert approaches to the federal government for more financial aid. The local news agencies would have a field day with this, and, some of the newspapers have already caught a whiff of such dealings. Thankfully much of those accusations have been not aimed towards the King, which preserves the relationship that we P-G's (*1) had with the royalty since the '50's (*2).

Unfortunately much of the flack came to me, since Jon was in D.C. (*3) when the scandal broke out. I managed to deal with the accusation as smoothly as I could, taking no chances on getting the talks out of the public. Then Jon came home and got besieged once he got off the tarmac. Jon and I had a private conversation on what do with these situations with his ideas on enhancing the FBI's power in Hawaii against such crimes. But in doing so, he will have to have public talks with the King, which will pierce light into previous dealings. With that potential risk looming, Jon has the good graces to inform me that his term is almost up, and my name is on the replacement list. Never mind that I had plans to retire from the post and buy a good plot of land on the Big Island (*4) - I am going back in this stupid morass for four more years.
Great.

Footnotes
(*) "Jon"- Jonathan Long, Procurator-Governor (2000-4),
He was appointed by Pres. McCain (Rep.) in his first year in office.
(*1) "P-G?s"- A nickname usually reserved for members of Federal civilian posts.
(*2)- "since the '50's"- A reference to the Second Restoration Talks (1945-6) due to the Martial Law declared during WW2
(*3) "since Jon was in D.C."- Mr. Long was reporting to his boss, Pres. McCain.
(*4) "Big Island" - It is a reference to the Island of Hawaii.

[Faeelin]

Hey Nosb, do you think I could do a story detailing Dacia's view of the Kaukasus?

[Nosb]

Hey Nosb, do you think I could do a story detailing Dacia's view of the Kaukasus?

I'm not sure who this Dacia is, but sure.

[DuQuense]

How about each of US space Bats Each having our own Treads for posting Our Stories, if We put the Area in the Title we'll be able to keep track of the TLs. Or should we just have seven threads one for each Continent

[DuQuense]

Sunday August 1- 1100 hrs [11 am]

Perry White, News Editor of the largest Paper in Ghana, was in a bad Mood, Of course that was to be expected considering what had happened Yesterday, Perry looked out at the Newsroom, Most of the Reporters, were out coving Stories, The few that remained were as Sober faced as Him. Perry looked Down at the Morning Paper in Front of him. The biggest story in the past 20 Years, since the start of the GW in the 1980's.

There in Banner Headlines Trimmed in Black : Princess Diana Assisanated By Anarchists; Tragedy Rocks Nation; Caesar vows Justice: Perry had spoke on the Telefono to many of His fellow Editors in Ghana Province, And they had all agreed not top print the terrible Wire Photos. The one Good point was that the Rangers had captured the Anardhists. In fact the reports were that the Rangers had a Tip and were only One Minute, behind them when they left their hideout.

[tom]

Nosb:
I think Dacia is a country.

[WngMasterD]

Captain Junior Rank Noah Cyn sat on a beach in Honolulu. He was brought to this beach because of some sort of diplomatic meeting that he fully didn’t understand. He sat there depressed. He glanced at his ship, the Firebolt, a small patrol boat with a scout plane on the deck. He couldn't get over the fact that she was gone.
Two years ago, he was on the same beach. Hawaii, or at least what he knew a Hawaii, had been one of the Confederations closest allies. He had spent some time here as a First Lieutenant in an Officer Exchange Program. Here he had met his everything, a girl that he truly loved, Katie Ming. He was to get married to her today, in this spot, right now. But he had received word through his Admiral that his world was no longer hers. He didn’t like the sights he saw. The city was almost the same, but not for him. He kept scanning the beach, in hopes that he might see her, but it was no use. He glanced at a group of his sailors, wondering if they noticed a difference in the city. His watch beeped telling him it was time for them to return aboard the ship. He scanned the beach one last time, and he could have sworn he saw her.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Staff Engineer Sarah sat in the engineering room, drawing on a pad of paper. She liked the space in front of her when it was loud, hot, and when things were always breaking, but she found it almost unbearable in this cool quiet. In the corner were a few crewmen looking at the electrical systems, but besides that, the five that were down here had absolutely nothing to do. As Chief Engineer, she felt as if she had to provide something for them to do, but she was clueless.
The LB Dauntless had been in its port for five days. She was in the Marinas region, south district, on the man-made island of New-Jamestown. The boat was restricted to port suddenly, for reasons that only the Commodore knew. He never told the Master of the lifeboat, and theories were starting to run rampant. Most were fake though, some how a radioactive chemical spill in their area didn’t seem plausible. She could talk to her younger brother, Noah, but she had no idea where he was. All she could do was sit, and wait.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flight officer Bradley Cyn sat in the seat of the small four-passenger plane, waiting for the catapult to launch the plane into the air. Behind him sat Viceroy Thomas Fau and Mayor Barry Turner. His next stop was the Island of Opiand, West Chuuk region. Apparently he was to pick up the major officials from the Yar district, and transport them to Palikir, the Capitol of the Confederation.
His job as a Sky Force supply pilot usually meant transporting this piece of equipment from here to there, and such. Occasionally he would transport personnel, but he had never carried four major officials. This job was usually reserved for full officers and jets, not warranted enlisted men and their small prop planes. He had heard roomers about some strange things happening in the peripheral districts, stuff about ships disappearing and blue static. He wondered if this was why he was transporting these men.
The plane launched forward, he was airborne. He looked at the computer screen. Opiand, he thought, I hate it there. Opiand had a winch launching system instead of catapults. Phooey
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Grand Admiral Cyn stood before a massive crowd of over a thousand. Before him sat the leaders of the Confederation. He wondered what his kids were doing, what they would think if they were here right now. He hated the news he was about to give, but it was the only way.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as the Commander of the joint chiefs I must inform you that we have been relocated from our usual world…

[Diamond]

That was awesome, WngMD. The family angle was cool, and I like how you explored a little of the pain that people totally separated, forever, from their loved ones would feel.

[WngMasterD]

Thank you.