Strange Tales

[Cabel]

It's been a while since I've posted anything new on these Forums and while this year has been a rough year for me that isn't an excuse. 

I thought I'd present to you a Story I've been working on for the past while. It follows an Idea that came to me, after watching the film Air Force One among others, and I've included what I know of the Halo Universe. Whether you like it or not, I do expect some feedback. I would prefer Positive Feedback over Negative, but I'll take anything in stride.

This Story will be covered and Submitted in Installments. I've completed the First Chapter. 

After having thought about it, I plan on Opening up the Strange Tales: Air Force One for RP starting with Chapter II if anyone is interested. I will be working on the Rules for it, and will submit them when I'm finished. If you have any questions, feel free to PM me on this Forum or over Discord.

I present to you:

                                         Strange Tales:

                                          Air Force One


[Location: Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean: Planet: Earth: System: Sol: Date: 26 November: Time: 02:22 AM Pacific Time: Year: 2030]

[Location: 'White House' 'Oval Office': Callsign: Air Force One: Altitude: 39,600 FT]

The Departure from Honolulu had been as eventful as could have been expected between the Reporters to the crowds of people that simply wanted to either have a Photo with the President and the First Family or those that had wanted to see the President of the United States of America and the First Family to take off in Air Force One. Security had been tight throughout their Trip in Hawaii's Largest Settlement, from the State Dinner with certain Elected Officials to the Shopping Trip his Wife and his Daughter had gone on to buy new Clothes and had been tight on their way back to the Airport. The Secret Service Details coupled with the Local Law Enforcement had kept the more troublesome elements -- Protestors against his Policies and any that might have wanted to have caused harm from having managed to get close enough. The Motorcade had successfully managed to make it to the mobile stairs that had allowed he, and his people to board the venerable VC-25Alpha that had been refueled, cleaned and resupplied during their trip to Honolulu which had allowed Motorcade ranging from six other Vehicles plus the Presidential Limousine to have been driven into and stowed successfully in the two C-17A Globemaster III Transport and the C-5M Galaxy Cargo Aircraft in the Service of the United States Air Force.

The two Globemaster Transports and the C-5 Galaxy Cargo Transport had carried two of the Marine One Helicopters -- the Main Marine One and a Secondary Back Up if the Primary One had a mechanical fault. The other Security Personnel, and Mechanics were carried aboard the two Globemaster Transports while the VC-25Alpha -- Air Force One carried Reporters, several Secret Service Details, a Doctor and a Nurse for the onboard Medical Suite, Communications Specialists, Galley Staff -- Cooks and Servers, and the required Flight Staff. It had simply been more an issue of Seating for all of the Personnel that accompanied the President and the First Family on Domestic and International Trips on the massive Four Engine Triple Decker Boeing Seven Forty-Seven Eight Hundred B Model decked out in the Presidential Livery. The Aircraft had been designed, reinforced and laid out to where the President could have led the entire Country of the United States of America from the Oval Office aboard, and in times past of National Crisis such as on 9/11 the President had. Alongside the Two Globemaster Transports, the C-5M Galaxy and VC-25Alpha, there was a Fighter Escort comprised of Eight F-15s -- four of the F-15E Strike Eagles and four of the F-15EX Eagle IIs and four F-35A CTOLs.

He'd felt it had been a bit ironic that the Elected Leader of the Free World, of the Most Industrious and Influential Country on the Planet -- a Man that Professed to be of the People, for the People and by the People had been almost as well Protected as the Pope in the Vatican. While the Vatican hadn't had access to Fighter Aircraft, Cargo Transports, Helicopters and Limousines designed to shrug off a Nuclear and a Chemical Attack, the Pope had the Famous Swiss Guard and the equally heavily trained Vatican Police along with the Pope Mobile. The presence of such high security measures in both cases had been a sign of the World, which had been entirely up to the interpretations of others as either being a good sign or a bad omen that it separated the President from the People and the Pope from the Masses. The VC-25Alpha hadn't escaped it either, with measures adopted that would have allowed it to have escaped both an enemy fighter barrage, a Nuclear and a Chemical attack at the same time. There were Measures known to him and many that hadn't, but had been known to the Air Force Personnel aboard -- those with the Rank of Major and above.

Several hours had passed since Air Force One with its Aerial Convoy had take off from the Honolulu Airport on a nearly three thousand mile long flight path that either would have seen it land back at LAX before having made the remainder of the Trip back to Washington D.C. or Air Force Once with its Convoy would have met up with a US Air Force Refueling Tanker mid-flight to take on new fuel. He'd thought the latter option had been the one the Colonel at the helm of Air Force One would have taken since it wouldn't have involved having to land at one of the World's Busiest Airports causing a ruckus. He'd had to agree with the Pilot since he hadn't wanted to go through the hassle of landing, and though he enjoyed being around the People that voted for him the goodwill trip to Hawaii, the State Dinner and the various other Stops along the way had been exhausting. The American Football game he'd decided to watch in his Oval Office, on the big wall mounted flat screen had been Pre-Recorded hours before, something that hadn't been able to have been helped and while his daughter hadn't been a fan of the game as he'd been he'd seen to have tucked her in to bed shortly after they'd taken off. The Game had gone well into overtime five times resulting in his Team having won against some other team out of the Northwest. One of the International News Channels had covered the news following the conclusion of the game leaving President Nathaniel Mitchell to simply turn the volume down before having reclined back on the Oval Office's couch. He could have unfolded it to have made a bed, but he'd been a bit too tired and sore to have even thought of it. He'd left his jacket draped off the back of the chair behind the desk while he'd managed to have found two pillows out of a closet and a light blanket before he'd set them up on the couch, and reclined before having laid back on the couch before dozing off in short time.

* * * * * * *

[Location: Inner Colonies: System: In-Transit: Date: 26 November: Time Zulu Reach 0930: Year: 2550: Watch/Shift: Alpha Watch/First Watch]

[Location: Bridge: UNSCS Passchendaele: Marathon Class I Heavy Guided Missile Cruiser: Registry: MGC-079: 22nd Tactical Fleet: Commanding Officer: Captain Matvey Daniilovich Galina: Status: Green]

The soft clicking by some of the Crew manning some of the Bridge Stations had been one of the few things that kept the Bridge from being engulfed in silence -- a silence he'd often found deafening. A nearly inaudible buzzing, electrical in origin, had run behind the bulkheads of the Bridge that had witnessed combat nearly continuous since the ship's Christening and when it rolled out of the Shipyards in 2530. The UNSC with its various Arms, among which were the Navy and the Marines had seen one World after another in the Outer Colonies and even some within the Inner Colonies glassed by the oncoming Covenant -- a Coalition hellbent on the Destruction of the Human Species in their Holy Crusade. Everyone had heard the rumors, and even fewer had seemed to have read the Intelligence that had delved deeper than the products of over-eager Ensigns to those Civilian Detractors in their minority. Matvey had been too old to have counted himself to have cared about any Rumors of the Covenant, whether those were of their Defeat or their Victory or that somehow they would have approached the UNSC with an offering of Peace regardless of how far-fetched that might have been. He'd been an Officer of the UNSC Navy for longer than he could have recalled at times, though nearly forty-five years had passed since he'd first stepped through the corridors of the Lunar Naval Academy and Mare Nubium Officer Cadet School. He hadn't been a young adult when he'd applied to the UNSC Naval Academies either having only seen his twenty-fourth birthday at the time. He'd actually given up keeping track of his own birthdays not because of the act being exhausting, but that on many occasions he and his crew had been elbow deep in keeping their ship afloat and in hulling their Covenant counterparts before they were sunk in turn.

He'd spent a little bit of his off time between the last shift he'd carried on the Bridge the previous morning by having visited the Ship's Chapel and spoke with the Orthodox Chaplain aboard. He'd been a devout adherent to the Religion of his Homeland, the Russian Orthodox Church and had rarely missed Mass or in speaking with the Chaplain when other matters hadn't occupied his time. He'd been the only Master of the Passchendaele, the only Captain to walk the Corridors of the Marathon Class I Guided Missile Cruiser -- one of a dwindling supply in the entire Fleet and he'd make certain to have remained in such an Office until either his death or he'd been forced to Retire. This morning he'd found himself on the Bridge reclining back against the padding of the Command Chair in a sunken pit surrounded by a good majority of Bridge Consoles. The Arrangement made for expediency, and for easy clarification of Orders during an Engagement with how he could look over one shoulder to the next or pivot around in his chair to answer one Bridge Officer or another. The Command Chair, and the Bridge Arrangement had reminded him of the Bridge Module of the Alsatian -- one of the old Diligent Class Destroyers when he'd been assigned to command the 4th Squadron of the Norva System Garrison Fleet for seven years from 2523 to 2530. The Passchendaele had been far superior to the Alsatian in almost every respect, but there had been times he would have given his right arm to have commanded that Destroyer again. He'd chosen several of his Senior Bridge Crew from those that had served aboard the older Destroyer, much to the chagrin of his Former Executive Officer at the time. He'd spent time reflecting on his time in the Service that had seen him age from a Young Man in his Twenties to an Old Man nearing his Seventieth Birthday. The Russian Aristocrat, and UNSC Naval Officer, had come to terms with his mortality long ago, but the Honor that had led him to decide to put the Uniform on hadn't lessened.

The UNSCS Passchendaele with the Hull Designation MGC-079 slid through a tunnel of blues, greens, whites and reds -- a physical reminder of Slipstream Space as it proceeded on a Heading towards one of the Inner Colony Systems. The Passchendaele had been requested to reinforce a Task Group that had been under Orders to attack a Covenant Forward Outpost only for that Outpost to have been Destroyed by a new Covenant Faction UNSC Intelligence had labeled the Banished. With its Key Target having been Destroyed by a Covenant Sub-Faction, Operation: SLOW DIVE had been called off and the Assets redistributed. The Passchendaele had been ordered back to the Inner Colonies alongside the 22nd Tactical Fleet. The Inner Colonies had become the major focus of the Covenant now, and each ship -- each gun was needed.

* * * * * * *

[Location: Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean: Planet: Earth: System: Sol: Date: 26 November: Time: 09:30 AM Pacific Time: Year: 2030]

[Location: 'White House' 'Oval Office': Callsign: Air Force One: Altitude: 39,600 FT]

Slowly rolling over at the smell of freshly brewed coffee, Nathaniel opened his eyes before stretching and sat up biting back a yawn. The soft carpet beneath his socks felt good, though it hadn't surprised him he'd kicked off his shoes at some point. Looking around the Mobile Oval Office, the man found his wife sitting behind the Desk and a cup of still steaming coffee being brewed not far from her. When had she come in? He should have heard the door open at least? Or had he locked it before he'd fallen asleep? Those were questions for a time when he'd be much more awake, and steadied by a cup of hot coffee. Pushing from the couch, he'd crossed over to the Desk to kiss his wife before noticing a plate of Eggs Over Easy, four strips of Bacon, a couple of small links of sausage -- the fat kind and not the kind you reheated in a Microwave complete with a glass of Orange Juice. A Knife and Fork sat next to the plate, though if he'd been honest he'd smelled the contents on the plate long before he'd seen it. He'd been surprised he'd slept for more than a little over seven hours, but had felt he'd needed the extra sleep. He hadn't been sleeping well since before taking off from Bergstrom Air Force Base.

"You didn't have to," Nathaniel said.

"I didn't have to, but I wanted to," Lacey said. She'd and Nathaniel had been married for a little over fifteen years, and two years into their marriage she'd given birth to a healthy girl that had six months earlier seen her thirteenth birthday.

"You need to eat something instead of those Protein Bars, and Instant Noodle Cups. I came in to find you out cold on that couch. Is that why you didn't come to bed with me?"

"I was tired. I haven't been sleeping well since we left Bergstrom, and I thought I'd lay down for a bit of a nap. I didn't intend to doze, and fall asleep. It seemed I need it though," Nathaniel said. "It was only for last night. I'll come to the bedroom tonight,"

"That's all I wanted to hear. You're pushing yourself too hard, Nathan," Lacy said. "You know you can Delegate to your Vice President and to the others for about seven to nine hours? I'm sure if there's an Emergency, they'll come wake you. I want you to come to bed tonight,"

"You have my word. I'll come to bed tonight and I'll Delegate to my Staff," Nathaniel said before his wife moved from the Chair behind the desk to a chair in front of the Desk. She'd let her husband take that seat, and watched him work on his breakfast as she began to work on hers.

* * * * * * *

[Six Hours Later]

[Time: Zulu 02:30 PM Pacific Time]

He'd stepped out of the Bathroom attached to the Oval Office glad he'd been close to have made it rather than having made a mess of things, and had been glad having a fully private Bathroom had been one of the perks to having been the President aboard Air Force One. Closing the door behind him, he'd crossed back to his Desk before setting the Book he'd been reading down and sat back in the cushioned chair. The Portholes along the Starboard side of the Aircraft had been lined with curtains, a luxury many of the other compartments aboard had lacked, but where the Weather Report had cited it to be a Bright and Sunny Day with temperatures in the high 70s -- a pattern that had been apparent for most of the day he'd noticed a bank of storm clouds forming off in the distance.

"I thought we had clear skies all the way to LAX," Nathaniel said.

"Sometimes, even the best of the Weather Reports can be wrong," his Aid said. The young Woman had been in her early twenties, and he'd chosen her following the steadfast determination and professionalism she'd shown to have been on his Staff. April had been part of President Mitchell's Staff for the last eight months, and Nathan hadn't regretted it. He'd treated his people well, something the Democrats kept trying to tell people the opposite.

"Those clouds are getting closer. Are we heading towards them or are they heading towards us?" Nathan said.

"I'll go to let the Pilots know to steer us away. I'll be back shortly, Mr. President," April said before vanishing. She'd stepped out of the Oval Office, making her way down the long corridors and up the stairs to the upper flight deck before knocking on the Door to the Cockpit. The Door had swung open allowing her to step inside briefly, informing the Pilot and his Co-Pilot of the Storm off to their Starboard. The Pilot turned the plane to its port, keeping it relatively on the same Heading for LAX and for a Mid-Air Refueling Tanker.

The Flight Engineer quickly took off his headphones looking perplexed before looking around the rest of the Cockpit at the Pilot, the Co-Pilot and the President's Aide. The Colonel flying the plane, with the Major his Co-Pilot looked at the Flight Engineer.

"What has you so spooked?" The Major asked.

"I was listening in on the Com-Chatter from the Refueling Tanker were supposed to meet up with in about an hour, but I can't frequency anywhere. I keep getting Static," the Captain, the Flight Engineer said.

"Have you tried the other Frequencies? Maybe it's just the signal's strength," the Major said.

"I've gone through the entire range. I can't find the Frequency for our Satellites, for LAX Tower, for the Refueling Tanker or anyone else. I can't even raise Civilian traffic," the Captain said.

"I think we should have the Communications Suite given an Overhaul when we land at LAX. I'm going to meet up with that Refueling Tanker, top off our tanks and then see about landing. We're going to have bleed off most of it before we land though," the Colonel said.

"While he's doing that, why don't you try to contact someone over one of the encrypted Frequencies? Maybe we'll get lucky and a Carrier will hear it," the Major said before turning back to his own duties.

"Alright," The Captain said, sliding the headphones back on and began searching through the Encrypted Frequencies hoping to reach someone.

The Aide backed out of the Cockpit, closed the door behind her and made her way back down the stairs to the Oval Office.

"What's wrong, April?" Nathan asked.

"A little Cockpit Drama, but the Flight Engineer said he couldn't raise anyone on several of the Frequencies," April said.

"I'm sure he's trying. I'd offer a few suggestions, but I think letting them do what their trained to do is the best thing," Nathaniel said.

* * * * * * *

[Air Force One]

[Fighter Escort]

"Did anyone else pick that up? I'm picking up Bogeys on Radar, at the Extreme Range," Captain Ralph Hutchins or 'Snake Eyes' called out over encrypted com-channel. Snake Eyes had been the Weapons Operator aboard the Lead F-15E Strike Eagle of the four plane Escort for Air Force One.

"Could you clarify, Snake Eyes? Did you say you detected Bogeys?" Lieutenant Colonel Michael Weston or 'Pike' said, through his own oxygen mask.

"Bogeys are at our Extreme Range. We've got FAST Movers...." Snake Eyes said. "Incoming!"

"Eagle One to Eagle Flights, Weapons Hot. I repeat, Weapons Hot," Lieutenant Colonel Michael 'Pike' Weston ordered. "Air Force One and Heavies, take Evasive,"

The F-15E Strike Eagle with the names of Pike and Snake-Eyes Stenciled on the side took evasive action banking sharply to the left as a purple-bolt of crackling energy passed by it with meters to spare while the Pilot and his Weapons Operator armed both the Twenty Mike-Mike Six-Barreled Gatling Gun and the twenty-three Missiles on twenty-three hardpoints. These ranged from the Air-to-Air Load Out consisting of four AIM-9 Sidewinders, six AIM-120 AMRAAMs and two AIM-260 JATMs, and to top off the Air-to-Surface Missile Load Out there were AGM-158 JASSMs. It had been understood among the Pilots that provided the Screening for VC-25Alpha or Air Force One that each of the Fighters provided would have been equipped with an active combat payload regardless if the nature of Air Force One's visits were based on Peacetime Affairs. It had been standard Practice to treat even those Peacetime Flights with an edge of readiness, even though the American Public and the Peoples of the World hadn't exactly known about it.

A dozen purple craft measuring nearly a hundred feet in length appeared on the horizon ahead of Air Force One and its Aerial Convoy having launched as many purplish-bolts of crackling energy towards the oncoming human aircraft which the Pilots of those Seraph had assumed were escaping the Planet below. Eagle One under the command of Colonel Michael "Pike' Weston's HUD gained a lock on one of the Seraph before the Veteran Pilot squeezed back on the trigger launching an AIM-9 Sidewinder noting out the corner of his eye, and through the continued transmissions from the other Craft over the Encrypted Frequency the others had launched their own AIM-9 Sidewinders at the incoming Bogeys. The easily dismissed notion he could have leveled off rejoining the others with the others firing a salvo while in line had been a Hollywood Tactic, and one that hadn't exactly made sense. The F-15E, the F-15EX and the F-35As were all designed to maintain air superiority, and to maneuver in a dogfight. It hadn't made sense for them to have stayed in a line when they could have easily targeted each of the odd one hundred foot long Bogeys before them individually. He hadn't had the intention or inclination to die that day, and he doubted any of the men under his command held such an inclination. By targeting and firing off Sidewinders at some of the incoming craft, it allowed the Pilots in the Protective Screen to have maintained maneuverability and to have controlled the airspace. Several of the oddly shaped Seraph Fighter exploded struck by the Sidewinders, with the Sangheili Pilots either through their arrogance in their technological superiority or in the fact they hadn't counted on the large Civilian Craft having a Screen armed with missiles that could very well hurt them. Most of the Seraph that had exploded had been caught on the flank by the Sidewinders from Pike's Fighters before his Pilots managed to get in close to the enemy Fighters making it difficult for the enemy weaponry to lock onto them without hitting their fellows. The Close Quarters part of the Dogfighting lasted only a few minutes before he'd ordered his Pilots to peel off, to gain distance enough for their longer ranged missiles to have a chance.

The Sangheili Pilots that saw the smaller Human Fighters had been taken aback, even if for a few moments as they hadn't counted on the Humans fielding Craft smaller than their Dark-Framed Longsword Interceptors and the smaller Sabers. The momentary confusion passed quickly as the Sangheili Pilots maneuvered their Seraph in an attempt to get a lock on the tail of the Human Fighters, which seemed to have an odd affinity for close-quarters Dogfighting, something the Sangheili hadn't had an issue with except for the challenge presented in attempting to gain a lock on the smaller Human Fighters. The crossfire resulting from Missiles to Gunfire and Plasma proved a rather deadly light show and made the close-quarters Dogfighting even more harrowing to both the Sangheili and to the Human Pilots, but either due to the smaller more agile nature of the F-15s and F-35s to the Skill of the Pilots or to a combination that had included the lack of respect by the Sangheili the Human Pilots had held the engagement. The Aerial Superiority nature of the F-15s and the F-35s had proven overwhelming to the Seraph Fighters with the reigning tally being the downing of each of the Seraph Fighters without a single loss of the Human Fighters. It hadn't been something that Pike, the Pilot of the Lead F-15E Strike Eagle and the other Pilots had counted for the next time they had encountered those strange Beetle Shaped Craft. Pike had to admit, the skills of the Pilots of those Craft had been exceptional, but his own Pilots had proven more effective.

"Eagle One to Eagle Flights. Check-In. I say again, Check In," Lieutenant Colonel Michael 'Pike' Weston said into his radio.

The other Pilots, from the F-15 Pilots with their Weapons Operators to the Pilots of the F-35s reported their Status, and reassured Pike that his men were doing their Duty in protecting the Leader of the Free World.

"Air Force One to Eagle One. What were those things?" he'd heard the Captain, VC-25A's Flight Engineer called out over the Radio.

"Eagle One to Air Force One. That's a good question," Pike said. "Their Pilots were bold, but they came in too close for their weapons to get a lock. How are things over there? Could you give me a Sit-Rep?"

"Aside from a few chipped dishes and Adrenaline spikes, everything's fine over here," the Flight Engineer said.

"Eagle One, I have someone here that wants to personally Thank you and your Men," Air Force One's Pilot chimed in.

"Is this Eagle One I'm speaking to?" another Voice Chimed in, one Pike had recognized as President Mitchell's. The Pilot of Air Force One must have handed his Headset over to the President or he'd picked up a Spare Headset.

"Affirmative, Mr. President," Pike said, through the com-band.

"Colonel, you and your Pilots have my gratitude and thanks," President Mitchell's voice chimed.

"Thank You, Mr. President. We were doing our Duty to Protect you and everyone aboard Air Force One," Pike said.

"Did everyone one come through that dogfight fine? Is there anything I can get you or any of your Pilots?" President Mitchell said.

While President Mitchell thanked Pike's Pilots and discussed with him on what or where those Fighters might have come from, the Flight Engineer aboard Air Force One managed to get in touch with the two C-17A Globemaster III Transports and the C-5 Galaxy that had flown in formation with Air Force One and had taken evasive action when the Alien Fighters had appeared. Each of the Eleven Aircraft that made up the Aerial Convoy had come through the aerial skirmish unscathed, with the Alien Fighters having focused primarily on Colonel Weston's Fighters.

* * * * * * *

[Location: Inner Colonies: System: Epsilon Eridani : Date: 26 November: Time Zulu Reach 0930: Year: 2550: Watch/Shift: Alpha Watch/First Watch]

[Location: Bridge: UNSCS Passchendaele: Marathon Class I Heavy Guided Missile Cruiser: 22nd Tactical Fleet: Commanding Officer: Captain Matvey Daniilovich Galina: Status: Green]

The nearly twelve hundred meter long Marathon Class I Heavy Guided Missile Cruiser with nearly ten meters thick Titanium-A Armor Plating lining its Hull of at least several hundred thousand tons slid from the Vortex leading to Slipstream Space behind it as it steadily made its way through the Epsilon Eridani System towards the Planet Reach -- the Largest of the UNSCDF's Strongholds on the edge of the Inner Colonies standing between the Outer Colonies. The Planet had been one massive Fortification with myriads of UNSC Assets on the Planet's Surface to its Orbits and its two Moons leading Reach to have gained the Reputation of being Humanity's Defense among the Stars to one given by those that lacked Humility as being Unassailable. The Planet Reach with its Orbital Shipyards and Repair Cradles to its Defense Fleet had been both a somber sight and had been a welcome one in that Matvey and his Crew hadn't handed over their Sanity, and that despite the ongoing War against the Covenant that Humanity hadn't given up. The Six Planets of the Epsilon Eridani had been colonized centuries earlier during Humanity's Domus Diapsora and while there had been some disputes over time among various different groups the System had from the beginning been Fortified. The Passchendaele glided propelled by its massive primary and even secondary engines towards the Planet Reach having been deposited in the System behind the Oort Cloud at the edge of the System. The Passchendaele, one of the remaining few dozen Marathons in the Fleet passed through the Outer Reaches of the System with its Crew looking forward to enjoying some Fresh Air following months of Recycled Air, and with some even wanting to find some new News Papers on what was going on back home or in finding out which Sports Teams had won with even a few wanting to go to a Bar or two in Manassas.

"I'm detecting a Strange series of Transmissions," Nadezhda, the Passchendaele's current Third Generation 'Smart' A.I. said.

"Strange Transmissions? Clarify. Is there a source of Origin?" Captain Matvey Daniilovich Galina said. The Russian Captain had moved from the cushioned confines of the Central Command Chair to his favorite spot next to the Holographic Situation Table in the Aft Compartment of the spacious Bridge. The Bridge had been spacious for a UNSC Combat Design, with most of the Bridge Consoles surrounding the Sunken Command Pit with the Command Chair dominating the Module with Auxiliary Stations and even some Primary Stations littered throughout the rest of the Bridge. The Marathon Class I Heavy Guided Missile Cruise's Module had certainly been far more spacious than the cramped one of the Diligent Class Destroyer, but that particular Module had been among at least several dozen installed in the Cruiser's Hull over the years and it had proven to have been one of the most popular among he and his Bridge Crew.

"I'm receiving them too," Lieutenant Louise Denrae, at the Communications Station said.

"I'm trying to determine that, Matvey. The Transmissions are being received over an Encrypted Frequency, but it's not a UNSC Frequency," Nadezhda said. "I'm not familiar with these Callsigns,"

"Lieutenant Denrae, bring it up on Audio," Matvey ordered.

"Aye, Sir," the Lieutenant said. Quickly striking the proper keys, she'd transferred the odd Transmissions that had filtered over her headset to the Bridge's Speaker System and slid the headset off. Static at first filtered over the Bridge's Speakers before Lieutenant Denrae had cleared up the Intercepted Transmission, with her console having tried to narrow down the Frequency. The voices of several Men and Women filtered over the Speakers clearly, with the sounds of an Engagement in the background.

"Bogeys are at our Extreme Range. We've got FAST Movers. Hostiles...." Snake Eyes said. "Incoming!"

"Eagle One to Eagle Flights, Weapons Hot. I repeat, Weapons Hot," Lieutenant Colonel Michael 'Pike' Weston ordered. "Air Force One and Heavies, take Evasive,"

Multiple Voices, twelve belonging to what Matvey had assumed had been from an Escort followed with crisp replies before the distinct sound of Missiles being launched filtered over the Speakers. The Bridge Crew stood silent at their Stations, with Matvey silent at the Holographic Situation Table hanging off of each word filtered over the Speakers with the Aging Officer contemplating exactly what they had been listening to and more importantly where the skirmisher had taken place. The Epsilon Eridani System had been heavily patrolled and monitored by the UNSC to where even a single stray bit of cosmic dust couldn't have violated the System without having been detected and analyzed. The voices of the Pilots which after a short time most of the Bridge Crew if not all of them had determined with their Weapons Operators had gone back and forth with distinct Callsigns before the sounds of exploding craft were heard, which as the Pilots clarified had been described as Purple Ovoid Shaped -- which hadn't been a detail missed by the UNSC Personnel. The Pilots had been up against Seraph Fighters, and had apparently been in control of the engagement. The Engagement had come to a close with the Lead Pilot, identified by the Callsign Eagle One had called for a Roll Call of his Pilots with each Callsign reporting in.

"Have you found anything, Nadezhda?" Matvey said.

"They're not using any known UNSC Frequency," the Passchendaele's Smart A.I. began. "I can safely say that I've been listening into the Monitoring Stations within the System, and there aren't any indications of the Covenant having penetrated the System Defenses. There isn't any indication of any Longswords or Saber Flights engaged in a skirmish either. If there had been, we would have received Orders to have launched our Interceptors,"

The AI analyzed the voices filtering over the Speakers in an attempt to ascertain the Identities of those involved by matching the Voice Striations with those on File with the various UNSC Rosters of Active Personnel.

"There's another Transmission. It's being carried over a second Encrypted Frequency, but it's Callsign is coming across as Air Force One," Lieutenant Louise Denrae said from her Station.

"Air Force One?" Lieutenant Ellis Michaels, the Chief Navigation's Officer said.

"It was the Callsign of an Aircraft used by the President of the United States of America, when that Nation-State enjoyed its Status as a Global Empire," Matvey explained. One of his Interests even as a boy had been History, and among the countless hours studying had been the Super Power that had been known as the United States of America and with its the Elected President. The United States of America by the Twenty-Sixth Century had become part of a larger economic block known as the Republic of North America which included both Canada, the United States and Mexico. The United States of America had still enjoyed its own independence in Governing itself, in its Customs, it's Laws and much of what had made it a Super Power following World War II, but answered to President of the United Earth Government when it came to Global Affairs. The Onset of the War against the Covenant that began in Twenty-Five Twenty-Five over the Colony of Harvest had prompted the Admiralty of the United Nations Space Command Defense Forces to have legally assumed Authority over the United Earth Government and had absorbed the Colonial Administration Authority with its Military arm the Colonial Military Authority, and had held that position even through the present. The question that came to mind had been how the Aircraft with the Callsign Air Force One carrying the President of the United States of America had found itself in the Epsilon Eridani System ten and a half light years from the Sol System? "Have you been able to determine the Origin?"

"The computer's triangulating it," Louise said from her station. "It's coming from Tribute, Sir,"

The Third Planet of the Epsilon Eridani System, Epsilon Eridani III or Tribute had been a Major Human Colony first established in the latter part of the Twenty-Fourth Century had become known for its strong Industrial Capacity coupled with a large population. The notion that the Odd Transmissions had been broadcast from Tribute had been intriguing in itself since Matvey had doubts the UNSC HIGHCOM had been informed about such a VIP Visit within the System even during the War.

"Lieutenant Michaels, alter our Heading to bring us on Course with Tribute. We're going to investigate these Transmissions," Matvey ordered.

"And what about the Callsign Air Force One?" Nadezhda asked.

"I thought that was left unspoken, but I intend to get to the bottom of it. I doubt HIGHCOM would have granted permission for a Dignitary of such High Profile to travel to this System at this time," the Passchendaele's Captain said. He'd had a mind, including based on the evidence provided of the Odd Transmissions and Callsigns having engaged Covenant Seraph Fighters to have ordered the Ship's Condition to be set to TAC CON Alpha One as precautionary measure, but Matvey had reconsidered. The Listening Outposts located throughout the System including those on Reach and those of its Defense Fleet had been sensitive enough to have detected the elevated Readiness of the Passchendaele even after it had arrived within the System. Matvey hadn't wanted to have been forced to answer the questions that would inevitably arise, and decided if there were Covenant detected around Tribute even on the long range scanners that he'd give the Order.

* * * * * * *

[Location: Over-Unknown Sea: Planet: Tribute: System: Epsilon Eridani: Date: 26 November: Time: 02:30 PM Pacific Time: Year: 2550]

[Location: F-15EX Eagle II: : Eagle Flight #1: : Escort: : Callsign: Eagle One: Altitude: 39,600 FT]

"What were those things? They weren't like any aircraft I've encountered," Captain Ralph 'Snake-Eyes" Hutchins said. He'd been the Weapons Operator Officer whose station had been behind the Pilot, and whom hadn't removed his Oxygen Mask.

"You're asking me? Those Fighters we mopped up didn't match anything I've ever seen, and their handling characteristics almost pushed our Fighters to the edge -- even the F-35's," Lieutenant Colonel Michael 'Pike' Weston said, through his own Oxygen Mask. "Unless the Laws of Aerodynamics have been thrown out the window, those weren't Earth-bound aircraft,"

"Are you saying those were legitimate UFOs?" Snake-Eyes chimed in.

"How else would have described them? They shot those purplish crackling bolts at us," Pike said.

"No one's going to believe us when we land," Snake-Eyes said.

"I don't honestly care about that. We've seen it. The Rest of the Eagle Flights have seen it and those aboard Air Force One saw them. That's all that matters," Pike said.

"Eagle Two to Eagle One, copy?" another voice, belonging to the Pilot of the Second F-15EX Eagle II in his Flight called out over the radio. The voice belonged to the Pilot Major Rachel 'Falcon' Dennis.

"Eagle One to Eagle Two, I'm reading you. Copy?" Pike replied.

"I don't think we're over the Pacific Ocean anymore," Major Rachel 'Falcon' Dennis said.

"Say again? We're not over the Pacific? What gave you that idea? It looks like the same ocean to me," Pike said.

"The Water may look blue, but there's something different about it. I can't put my finger on it," Falcon said.

"The Encounter with those UFOs must have shaken us, Falcon," Pike said.

"Hold," Falcon's Weapon's Operator Officer, a Captain Philip 'Sparks' Keith chimed in. "The Short-Range Frequencies are picking up Military Traffic. It's coming in over one of the Encrypted Frequencies, but....it's not coming from our Military,"

"What? Say again?" Pike said.

"It's confirmed. The Military Comm Traffic isn't originating from the US Military. It's Source is the United Nations and something called the UNSC. The United Nations Security Council? That doesn't seem right" Captain Philip 'Sparks' Keith said.

"How can we be getting Military Comm-Traffic from the United Nations over one of our Encrypted Frequencies? The last I checked, the Higher Ups refuse to give to the U.N. access," Lieutenant Colonel Michael 'Pike' Weston said.

* * * * * * *

[Air Force One]

['White House' Conference Room]

Fourteen Men and women flanked both sides of the long table in the Conference Room having either spent time discussing things amongst each other or trying to drown each other out in argument and counterarguments. There were members of the President's Cabinet present with their Aides to overly curious Reporters and even a number of Mission Personnel denoted by the Light Blue Blouses, with Epaulets to their Dark Blue Slacks and Black Polished shoes within one of the largest compartments aboard that took up most of the Starboard side of Air Force One. Someone had brewed two fresh pots of coffee, one marked Caffeinated and the other Decaf, but in the ensuing commotion of competing voices the Coffee had been largely ignored. President Nathaniel Mitchell stepped through one side of the Double-Set Doors leading from the Conference Room to a small hallway -- if it could have been called that that led to the 'White House' Oval Office, and since he'd noticed his arrival had gone unnoticed among those present the Elected Leader of the Free World took his seat at one end of the Conference Table. He'd preferred to have allowed those already present in a room to have either noticed him on their own accord to have quieted down out of a lack of things to say. A combination of both the Former and the Latter seemed to have taken effect, with some of those Present having taken notice of the President's Arrival and the other have having simply run out of things to argue about. He'd waited patiently while everyone had taken their seats.

"Is anyone going to let me know what just happened?" President Nathaniel Mitchell asked. "Anyone?"

"Mr. President, I've had reports from the Flight Engineer to the Escort Pilots and even those Mission Personnel aboard trained in Navigation that they don't recognize certain landmarks or even the Position of the Sun," Colonel William Chapel, of the United States Air Force and in command of the Air Force Contingent aboard said.

"I've heard reports from those in Communications that they're picking up Civilian Traffic, and even Traffic from the United Nations over our own channels," Mr. Thomas Kinzei, the Head of the Education Department chimed in.

"While I know we're not part of the U.N., they're technically allies. I'd be more concerned as to how they're using our channels," President Nathaniel Mitchel said. He hadn't been fond of the Bureaucratic Organization, but while he'd wanted the United States of America to have withdrawn from the United Nations he'd known the United Nations at least provided partial Intelligence -- and kept the more rambunctious Countries that wanted the United States of America and her Allies to be wiped out preoccupied.

An Officer, an Air Force Lieutenant opened the single Door leading from the outside Portside Corridor into the Conference Room and quickly made his way to the Radio within the Conference Room.

"Lieutenant, I hope you have a good reason for this," Nathaniel said.

"I do, Mister President," the Lieutenant said. "We're receiving a Transmission over the Encrypted Frequencies. It isn't background noise, and it's not Civilian Traffic. I think you, and everyone else in this Compartment will want to hear this," The Lieutenant tuned in the Compartment's Radio to the Frequency those up on the Mission Deck had started receiving, and switched it to where the Transmission filtered over the Compartment's Speakers.

"UNSCS Passchendaele Actual to the Unknown Aircraft with the Callsign Air Force One, start Transmitting IFF Codes over this Frequency. The Frequency has been Secured. Say again, Unknown Aircraft with the Callsign Air Force One transmit your IFF Codes," a voice said, filtered over the Speakers having been preceded briefly by static. The Transmission Received repeated itself.

"The Passchendaele? I haven't heard of a ship with that name before," Major Clark Simmons, one of the Naval Officers aboard in his Dress Whites said.

"If we do not receive your IFF Codes, you will be assumed to be Insurrectionists and will shot down," the voice followed over the Speakers. "I say again, if we do not receive your IFF Codes you will be assumed to be Insurrectionists and will be shot down,"

"The United Nations are making threats against us? Against the President of the United States of America? The Audacity...." Mary Watson, the Chief of the Transportation Department said.

"Well, are we going to answer their Challenge? I'd rather not call their bluff," Steven Loomis, the Head of the Energy Department said.

"They could be making Empty Threats. There are Parties within the UN that may not like the United States or President Mitchel, no offense Sir, but they wouldn't actively shoot down Air Force One. It would draw too much attention," Dana Lauren, the Head of the Treasury chimed in.

"I wouldn't call shooting down Air Force One an Empty Threat," another one of the President's Cabinet Members said.

"Mister President," Colonel Chapel said. "If we continue to force them to wait, they may decide to follow through with their Threat. I'd suggest we contact them, but you're the only one that can make that decision,"

President Mitchell took a few moments to look between the members of his Cabinet, to the Air Force, Navy, Army and even Marine Officers around the Table. Each of them had locked eyes on him, with their eyes boring through him or so he'd imagined. The lives of nearly two hundred people depended on his next few decisions, and he'd be damned if he'd be remembered as the President that allowed Air Force One with its Convoy to be ripped to shreds over Static.

"Lieutenant, if you would answer them. I want you to transmit our IFF Codes to them," Nathaniel said. "I want to know who it is we're dealing with and more importantly where we're at,"

"Air Force One to UNSCS Passchendaele Actual, this is Air Force One to UNSCS Passchendaele Actual. We are transmitting our IFF Codes now. You should be receiving them momentarily. I say again, you should be receiving them momentarily," the Lieutenant said, having answered the Challenge.

* * * * * * *

[UNSCS Passchendaele]

[Bridge]

[Tribute's Orbit]

"We're receiving an Incoming Transmission followed by a sequence of IFF Codes," Lieutenant Louise Denrae said. Without having been told, she'd switched the Transmission to be heard over the Bridge Speakers.

"Air Force One to UNSCS Passchendaele Actual, this is Air Force One to UNSCS Passchendaele Actual. We are transmitting our IFF Codes now. You could be receiving them momentarily. I say again, you should be receiving the momentarily," a voice filtered over the Speakers said.

"Anything?" Matvey asked.

"I'm running the IFF Codes through the Database, but the Search is coming up as a dead end," Louise said.

"What of you, Nadezhda? Any Progress?" Matvey asked.

"I'm running the IFF Codes against those known to the UNSC, the CMA and the UEG Databases," Nadezhda said. The lines of code passed quickly across her frame, from head to toe before vanishing among thousands of other lines of code. "I'm running into the same results as Lieutenant Denrae...wait. The IFF Codes match those in use in the Twenty-First Century. One of my subroutines checked an obscure part of the Database belonging to the Northern Republic of North America. The IFF Codes are authentic,"

"The Codes are Authentic?" Captain Galina said. "Piggyback on the Secured Line, and send this response. Air Force One, Stay on your current Heading. Do not deviate and do not attempt to land. We are studying the current situation, and will be dispatching a Flight of Longswords to your location. Do not fire on the Longswords, but follow the Instructions of their Pilots. You will remain unharmed. Relay this to your Escort. We will bring you aboard,"

* * * * * * *

[Air Force One]

['White House' Conference Room]

"Air Force One, Stay on your current Heading. Do not deviate and do not attempt to land. We are studying the current situation, and will be dispatching a Flight of Longswords to your location. Do not fire on the Longswords, but follow the Instructions of their Pilots. You will remain unharmed. Relay this to your Escort. We will bring you aboard," a Heavily Slavic Accented Voice filtered over the Speakers. The Baritone Voice had obviously been male, but why had he addressed Air Force One directly?

"Longswords? We're waiting for a shipment of Swords?" the Aide of one of his Cabinet Members asked.

"He said we would remain unharmed, and that he'd bring us aboard? We aren't supposed to land, but if we can't land then how is going to get us aboard? Are they going to send a plane up to meet us?" another Aide asked.

"I'm not certain what our Russian friend meant, but it's obvious that since we've been warned not to land and that we can't deviate from our current Heading that we're going to have to meet up with these Longswords," Nathaniel said.

"I'm not about to call his Bluff. Relay those Instructions to Eagle One and his Pilots,"

The Lieutenant at the Radio relayed the newly received Instructions to the Pilots in their Escort, and to those Pilots of the two C-17A's and the Crew of the C-5 Galaxy Transport Heavies. Questions were on the minds of everyone present and for once Nathan had been envious of his Family, the Reporters outside and the other Passengers which included his Secret Service Details. They hadn't been present to hear what had come over the Conference Room Radio, and hadn't had to question their sanity.

* * * * * * *

[Escort]

[Eagle Flights]

"Eagle Seven to all Eagle Callsigns this Net. Did anyone hear what I think I heard?" the voice of Major Stewart Reynolds said, his voice filtering over the radios in both the F-15E Strike Eagles, the F-15EX Eagle IIs and the F-35As.

"Eagle Seven, this is Eagle One. I think everyone heard those Instructions. We're to keep flying, warned not to land and we have to rendezvous with a Flight of Fighters with the Callsign of Sword," Lieutenant Colonel Michael 'Pike' Weston said. He'd had to assume the 'Longswords' Air Force One had told them about had to either be based on their Callsigns or that they were flying experimental Aircraft. He'd hoped for the Former rather than the Latter, as it could have been that much easier explained.

"How are we going to recognize them?" Eagle Seven chimed in.

"I'm honestly not certain. We'll see them when they arrive, I guess," Pike said.

"Would I be the only one to say I'm not comfortable with the situation? It's too strange. We're having to wait for a Flight of Swords. We're off course -- we have to be and the U.N. is using our Frequencies," Eagle Seven said.

"It is strange, and you're not the only one that feels that," Pike said.

"The Radar's picked up something. It might be that Flight we've heard about, but they're Radar Cross-Section is too big to be a small Fighter," Snake-Eyes said having kept his eyes on the Radar display before him.

"How big a Radar Cross-Section?" Pike said.

"The Radar Cross-Sections reading as the Craft being the size of Air Force One, and there are four of them zeroing in on our positions," Snake-Eyes said.

"As big as Air Force One? An Airliner?" Eagle Seven chimed in.

"We're going to find out shortly. We should be seeing them in a little under four minutes," Snake-Eyes said.

Four massive black wings, four Longsword Strike Fighters the size of of Air Force One -- give or take a few feet -- passed overhead of the Escort and the rest of the Convoy giving the Pilots ample time to at least visually study the immense Craft. The four Longsword Strike Fighters angled around, circling around the Escort and the Convoy before having settled into a relatively level altitude with two above and two on the flanks. Colonel Michael 'Pike' Weston with his Weapons Operation Officer behind him took in the ventral view of one of the two nearest Longswords above them. Michael had been able to make out two massive cowlings flanking at the base of the wings, but they weren't of any thrust configuration he'd seen before. His eyes slid across the Darkened Hull to a massive One-Hundred Twenty-Millimeter gun turret mounted to the underside that currently pointed straight ahead. What kind of ships did these Longswords have to take out if they were armed with guns that big?

"Delta One to all Eagle Callsigns this Net, switch over to Frequency Three-One-Niner. Say again, switch over to Frequency Three-One-Niner," a voice filtered in over one of the Frequencies monitored by Snake-Eyes. The Frequency hadn't been one of the Primary Ones, but as his duties held he'd had to monitor the entire band. He'd switched his own com-set over to the that Frequency before relaying the instructions to Pike, and Pike relayed it to the other Crews.

"Eagle One to Delta One, glad you could join us. What kind of aircraft are those?" Pike said.

"Delta One to Eagle One, I was told you were to expect us. Will you say again? You're saying you haven't seen the Gulf-Alpha-Tango-Lima One before?" the voice said, filtered over the new Frequency.

"Negative. We haven't seen those kinds of ships before. What did you call them? Gulf-Alpha-Tango-Lima-One? My Crews have flown nearly every Aircraft available in the United States Air Force Fleet and even a few from Allied Countries, but my Pilots are Fighter Pilots -- not Bomber Pilots. I haven't seen your Craft before, and if I haven't my Crews haven't," Pike said.

"You're in for a treat, and a long explanation," the Pilot of Delta-One, the Lead GA-TL1 Longsword said. "Maintain Present Course and Heading. I have orders to escort you and your Heavies back to the Barn,"

"Would that be the Passchendaele?" Pike said.

"It would be. It's our Home Cruiser," the Pilot Delta-One said.

"What about those...UFOs? The purple craft we encountered earlier?" one of the Eagle Pilots, Eagle Eight chimed in. Major Don 'Pickles' Walter said.

"You mean the Covenant Seraph? You won't be encountering them. The Passchendaele's Long-Range Scanners detected a lack of Covenant activity over Tribute, and in this System. You're going to be fine. Maintain the current Course and Heading," Delta-One's voice said, over the collective radios.

* * * * * * *

[Marathon Class I Heavy Guided Missile Cruiser]

[UNSCS Passchendaele]

[MGC-079]

[Bridge]

"Delta Flight has rendezvoused with Air Force One's Convoy, and are maintaining current Course and Heading. ETA is forty minutes," Commander Alice Qelar said, from the Primary Weapons Console. She'd been monitoring the Tactical Frequencies of the Delta Flight of Longswords, Four of Twelve of the Longswords carried by the massive Marathon Class I Heavy Guided Missile Cruiser.

"Good," Captain Matvey Daniilovich Galina said, from where he'd stood at the Holographic Situation Table.

"We've encountered a problem," Nadezhda chimed in.

"A Problem?" Matvey said.

"I've been doing a little research. I managed to find the Design Blue Prints of the Old Company Boeing -- a Company that Manufactured Aircraft including Civilian Airliners in the Twentieth and Twenty-First Centuries. Someone had decided to convert them digitally at some point, perhaps for posterity or for safe keeping since very few in the following Centuries would have bothered to look them up," Nadezhda, the Passchendaele's Third, Third Generation 'Smart AI' said. "The Airliner wasn't designed to operate in space, only in atmosphere. It's the same with the two other cargo Craft accompanying it, the Charlie-Seventeen-Alphas. While the aircraft in its Escort could perhaps with modifications operate in space, the Crews would black out before they settled in one of our Hangar Bays,"

"We're going to either deliver oxygen to them or we'll have to dip into the Atmosphere," Matvey said. He'd ruled out being able to deliver heavy modifications to the air frames given the amount of time it would have taken Air Force One, her Convoy, Escorts and the Flight of Longsword Interceptors to have arrived. "Does that Model come with supplemental Oxygen? I pray I don't have to say there are too many involved in this as it is,"

"According to the Specifications, Air Force One as any Airliner of that Era should have a means to provide Supplemental Oxygen in the event of an Emergency," Nadezhda said. "What...no, you're thinking of having the Crew drop that Supplemental Oxygen for those aboard while we move them into the higher atmosphere. It might work, but there will be Structural and even Mechanical Repairs required after they've touched down in our Hangar. It is the same for every Aircraft in that convoy except for our Longswords,"

"Give the Order. Pass it along to the Crews of those Aircraft and inform them to insure that there needs to be a steady stream of that supplemental Oxygen and for anyone to find their seats. The Transition from the mid Altitudes to the Higher Atmosphere and Orbit can be a bit bumpy even by today's standards. Helm, set Course and Heading for Tribute's Orbit. Once Orbit has been achieved, I want a five second burst from our Dorsal Thrusters to take us into upper Stratosphere and give me control of the Ventral Thrusters and our Main Thrusters to get us back into Orbit. We will have only a small window in which to get Air Force One's Convoy, and to retrieve our Strike Fighters. I don't want to tax the engines of Air Force One or her Convoy more than necessary," Matvey said. "Clear all traffic for Hangar Bay Three Amidships Port Side. Order the Pelicans in that Bay to remain stored in their Alcoves, for the Longswords to be moved to another Hangar -- Hangar Bay Four Forward Port Side. I want to have the Cargo and Parts moved from Hangar Bay Three Amidships to a more dedicated Cargo Bay,"

His Orders were seen to, with a chorus of "Ayes" from the various Members of his Bridge Crew. The Dropships, Fighters and even the Materials included in those Orders were moved with Assigned Deck Crews and Deck Hands taking Forklifts or Mechanized Trains to move those things from that Hangar to make room for the Incoming Convoy. Though, each of the Assigned Deck Hands hadn't exactly been aware of that only the Orders they were given.

* * * * * * *

[Air Force One]

[Thirty-Four Minutes Later]

Oxygen masks hung from the ceiling panels throughout the Airliner with the Callsign Air Force One, with every person from the President to the last Reporter aboard had been securely strapped into their seats and for once the Mobile White House had been eerily devoid of activity at least with people traipsing the deck. The turbulence had been fierce with the bulkheads shaking to the deck at their feet with various Office Instruments and even random trays coming loose to spill out onto the decks or crash into couches or tables or even bulkheads separating the compartments. The frame of Air Force One hadn't been designed to travel above its Service Ceiling of a little less than Fifty-Thousand Feet or nearly Fourteen Hundred Meters. President Nathaniel Mitchel knew the F-15s and F-35s of their Escort had been designed to handle a higher Service Ceiling, but had doubts about the C-17s and the C-5M. He'd only been able to assume those three Cargo Aircraft Heavies had been able to have handled it, albeit with the same turbulence. He'd strapped into the Oval Office Chair behind the Desk, having strapped himself in and tightened the Supplemental Oxygen Mask into place where he'd breathed normally. He hadn't been the only one in the Oval Office with several other Aides strapped into chairs or on the couches with their Oxygen Masks. The violent shaking from the Turbulence subsided after a time before everything became stable again meaning the Aircraft had passed through the Troposphere -- where its Operational Service Ceiling had been and had passed into the lower reaches of the Stratosphere.

"Holy Hannah...." he heard the Co-Pilot's voice over the Speakers throughout the Aircraft. "Is that what I think it is? It looks like a solid wall of metal,"

"It is a wall of metal coming from above us? We're going to reach it shortly," the Pilot of Air Force One said.

"Those Longswords are keeping us on Course. They aren't banking away," the Co-Pilot said.

"I'm reading Engine Three as starting to run too hot. We're going to cut back the throttle on it or we'll lose it," Air Force One's Flight Engineer said. The Flight Engineer had been carefully monitoring each of the four turbofans along with the integrity of the hatches, wings, the flow of fuel and the pressures against the hull. "The other Engines are starting to have trouble. It's the thinner atmosphere,"

"Air Force One wasn't designed to operate at these Higher Altitudes. If we're having these problems, the crews of the other Heavies are too," the Pilot chimed in. Gripping the throttle controls that lay situated between the Pilot and Co-Pilot seats, he'd slowly rolled back the throttle on Engine Three letting it spin down to more manageable speeds resulting in Air Force One's overall velocity dropping a bit. Though at that Altitude of nearly Fifty-Thousand Feet, speed hadn't been entirely an issue. The Troposphere had been largely clear of clouds, featureless save for an impressive horizon with layers of orange below a layer of light blue followed by a darker layer above it. "I'm only to cut back the Throttle on Number two if it starts to give us fits,"

The Twelve Fighters that made up the Escort, the Eight F-15s and the Four F-35s hadn't been bothered or really experienced the same problems Air Force One and the three Cargo Transports had encountered. Their frames had been designed to operate at a higher Service Ceiling, though the Pilots had been forced to engage the Afterburners to pass through the higher altitudes even if briefly before having cut it back. The Crews of those Fighters had seen the Wall of Metal that descended from above them, with the Crews of the Longsword Strike Fighters continuing towards the Wall as if it had been normal. A massive panel along the port amidships slowly opened revealing an internal cavity much to the surprise of the Flight Crew of Air Force One, and the Crews of the other Craft before the distance became less and less. The four Massive Boeing aircraft flew into the massive multi-deck Hanger Bay before descending to the deck and cut back the throttle to the engines before applying the brakes. The Aircraft came to a slow, steady stop followed shortly after by the twelve members of its Escort and lastly the Four Longsword Strike Fighters that managed to land in other open Hangar Bays. The Hatch to the Bay ground closed behind the craft followed by a series of green lights indicating the pressure had been equalized, as the atmospheric shields popped into place.

"This is Captain Williams speaking. You can take your masks off now. The supply of oxygen running through them has run out, and you can relax. We've landed, and come to a complete stop," Colonel James Williams, Air Force One's Pilot spoke out calmly over the speakers throughout the aircraft. He'd slowly taken the Oxygen mask off followed by his Co-Pilot, and the Flight Engineer. Shortly after, everyone aboard Air Force One had taken their masks off and breathed in fresh air -- not provided by the tanks in the ceilings.

"It looks like the carpet's being rolled out for us," the Major, his Co-Pilot said. The Major had managed to catch dozens of Marines, or what he'd had to assume had been Marines in strange BDUs cradling Bullpup Rifles had started moving closer and set up a perimeter around the strange Aircraft. There were vehicles, including an odd looking Buggy on over-sized tires sporting a gun in the back being drive into place behind those on that perimeter.

"Some welcoming committee," the Flight Engineer said, having slid from his seat to peer out the windows of the cockpit.

"Do you recognize any of that gear they're sporting?" the Major asked.

"No, I don't. I recognize their BDUs as BDUs, but that's about it. I do know a rifle when it's pointed at me though and there are dozens of them," Colonel Williams said.

"Rick...." James said, calling the Flight Engineer by name. "Why don't you go into the back and let the President and his people know what to expect? If anyone's been hurt, we'll have to get them medical treatment. I'm sure there are more than a few frayed nerves,"

"I'm going," Captain Rick Flaherty said, before turning around to open the door leading from the cockpit to the upper deck of Air Force One and took the stairs down to the Second Deck where the President would have been.

"That's apt," the Major said. "I think I'll need a change of pants,"

                                                    Chapter One

                                                            End

(OOC: I'm going to be working on Chapter Two over the next few days. I'd suggest checking this Thread in order to keep up to date. Thank you -- Cabel)