Aug 20 17:05:35 109 PA - 1959 Lost Men First Contact
From Chronicles
Aug 20 17:05:35 109 PA.
WHYKIN
Everything needed to be done was laid out in a pamphlet the agent gave Gabriel in their meeting. Visit Whykin in good company, show enclosed ID pass. Allow authorities to lead you to vid call room. And finally the ID pass doubles as a calling card. So here we are, who you gonna call?
Gabriel has made the trip in his crisp uniform, but covered over in little more than merchant's clothes to keep his journey secret. As he explained to the people who were nice enough to bring him in - it's not healthy right now for a resident of Kingsdale to be seen cavorting with the Coalition military. But here, in this safe room, he took the time to straighten the uniform in all the right places, badges on and pins polished. "Captain Thompson or Henry, please. One of them would have assumed overall command, in my absence and the breakdown of structure. If you know which one that was, him, please. Otherwise? Give me Thompson, please."
The screen comes on to show a lady in uniform at the other end. She nods politely at Gabriel's request and takes a moment to try and contact the desired people. Her voice is momentarily muted as she talks on the other line to that end but comes back to Gabriel soon enough. "Sorry sir Captain Thompson is currently out, but we have sent word to him. There is a Seaman Dyson on the line if you wish as you wait. Your group assigned a rotation to wait for your call when contact was confirmed."
"Very well. Seaman Dyson, please, ma'am," Gabriel confirms very officially. Silently hoping that no one sees that he's aged more than two years in what to them is an instant. "Oh, but before you go... my 'group'? There are others like mine?"
"47 survivors were rescued from an anomaly south of the Tolkeen front line earlier this year. We are told that there were many more. But the land is not very forgiving to the unprepared." The woman answers before pausing to see if there are more questions before making the transfer.
"More from that event still alive, or the lucky forty-seven that you took in for me?" Gabriel asks, doing his best to be politically astute. "Forty-seven is a blessing, I just want to be as sure as I can be that there aren't more of my men in need of assistance."
"47 survivors were rescued." the woman repeats rather blandly. "If others survived other than yourself, we are not aware of that." She states, eliminating conjecture and emotion with many years of military practice. One could bet her voice was in the shortlist for the skelebot programming.
Gabriel smiles it off. "Thank you, ma'am. Seaman Dyson, please. As soon has he's ready."
The screen quickly switches and a fairly large African American man comes on at the screen. He is in civies, but of good thread and looks healthy. He goes rigid freezes momentarily when the screen switches, looking uncertain of what reaction he should make to this very important man in uniform now. He caves to instinct and gives a salute. "Sir."
Gabriel remains seated, but snaps up an equally crisp salute. "Seaman Dyson. It's good to see you alive," he says, starting off very militarily before sliding into a moment of emotion. "Rest easy, son. The lady tells me you're on watch for me?"
The man nods, relaxing some. "Yes sir, Captain Thompson's orders when we got word that you had survived to find another settlement in this... um .. place. Everything took a new light when that came out. All of a sudden we had a purpose again. A reason to keep to what the captain has taught us. What he's told us you taught him."
Down in Whykin, Gabriel can't help but smile. "That's good to hear, Seaman. The Captain's a good man, and I'm not surprised that he followed through as ordered and trained. I've been told there are forty-seven of you? What's the breakdown between my security, navy and the technicians?"
"Um 10 of the Black Flag unit, 30 servicemen like myself and seven techs." Dyson answers with a nervous shake of his head. "I know that’s not much but you probably know better than me what sort of world we have found ourselves in. Our weapons, training, just wasn’t enough. Not against monsters that can chew through tanks or turn invisible. The frakin wildlife here has weapons any army back home would dream of sir."
Those numbers cause Gabriel's innards surprise, but he does his best to keep it there. "Yes, so I've heard. We'll talk about that soon, sailor. It's good to see so many of you alive, I remember you in particular were always up on the top AA gun as soon as the whistle blew. Can you get Captain Thompson for me? Or someone from my security detail? I can wait, I don't expect to be going anywhere." He pantomimes depositing money in a payphone. "I came with lots of change."
The man nods a rises immediately. "Of course sir. He should be almost back, he went to some length to ensure that if you called he be able to talk with you fairly quickly." Seaman explains and then leaves the screen empty for a moment. Fifteen minutes pass before Thompson comes to the line, dressed in a uniform himself, easily recognized as Coalition. He gives a sharp salute that seems to be a merge or tradition and the Coalition's style. "Colonel Blaze sir. A pleasure to finally hear from you."
Gabriel snaps another salute. "Captain. Good to see you alive," he says with rather strict military discipline. "I understand that you're in command of the forty-seven survivors of the Louisiana incident, is that correct? Seven techs, thirty sailors and ten of our own men? You've been in the custody or living with government known as the Coalition for approximately eight months, is that correct?"
Captain Thompson nods and takes the seat. "Yes sir, all correct. But when you sum it up like that it almost seems a small accomplishment." He notes in reply. "I can only wonder how you alone managed to not only survive but make it so far south to that place called Kingsdale. That is a marvel to make our accomplishment seem small. Though those eight months must have been hard for you sir. You've aged a bit if you don’t mind me saying."
Gabriel sighs, visibly, and even hangs his head for a moment before straightening up to address his subordinate. "Captain, you and the men did an outstanding job. Not just getting yourselves to safety, but getting thirty-seven noncombatants to safety as well. My hat is off to you, truly. But here's the thing." He hesitates, trying to find a way to put this gently. There really isn't one. "I saw you die, roughly two and a half years ago. About fifteen-hundred of us. You, specifically, were just about cut in half by one man's rifle. Some of you made it close to safety, but in the end, all were killed. All." The emphasis on the last likely indicates his own wife. "So that explains my aging, and since there were far more people at the time, how we were able to move farther south. Of course, that doesn't really explain it... but that's the best that I can tell you for now. You forty-seven are the real miracle here. You're back from death."
It's a good thing the captain sat down because he looks rather floored by all that. "Oh.." He manages before making a subtle nod. "That confirms it then sir. We're here for a purpose. You now all of us weren’t deeply religious when we served together. This ordeal has changed that. To find need for faith in a world where its nearly forgotten. Well we've been thankful the padre was among the surviving sailors."
Gabriel manages a smile now, even a light laugh with his most senior officer. "It is, Captain. It is. A few more questions before I press ahead. You, the men - treated well and fairly? Looks like they've been taking care of clothes, at least. Coalition's not us, but they're good people. Anyone end up broken or sick, not able to move a distance for one reason or another?"
"Nothing permanent sir." The captain replies with a shake of his head. "A handful of us lost limbs in the creature attacks. But when the Coalition offered prosthetics for those who'd enlist in their military that was all taking care of. And we've been treated as well as could be expected sir. At first they didn’t know what to make of us and were rather cold. But apparently they have psychics, that read your fortune for real instead of just telling you the weekly horoscope. That was a big step in our favor as they found our claims to be true. From there it's been following the standard orders you gave sir, to integrate into this society and keep our nation alive in us. Though if I may be frank sir, looking at the Coalition and how it does things. It looks like our nation lost."
With a tight jaw, Gabriel does his best to maintain a hopeful voice. "It might seem that way, yes. Which is why I want to move all of you. I assume that you're living together as a unit, or close to it if you've got a watch set up?" Then a delay. "Just how many of you joined their military, and how long is the promised stint?"
"Twelve of us sir, but only those who have taken prosthetics have had to make a promise of 5 years. The rest of us are serving more as historical advisers. Apparently this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. The Coalition already has policies and procedures for dealing with 'time displaced individuals' as they call it. We are keeping together minus those five who have moved on to go through the Coalition boot camp." The captain explains.
That puts more of a smile back on Gabriel's secret face - the one behind the face in front of the camera. "You'll have to tell me later who the five are, but it speaks well to the fact that our country *is* still alive that they'd sign on in good faith for a tour like that. You did a good job, Captain. So we have forty-two mobile, or ready to be. It's about three-hundred and sixty miles as the crow flies to get to where I've been living. If Lieutenant Polotnak made it, could you bring her up? She was always the logistics expert. Ask her how long she thinks it would take to get everyone together for a move. I'll see what I can do about releasing you from your advisory positions."
The captain looks hesitant now, apparently finding this turn of conversation awkward to reply to. "I could sir. But I must say we are quite united in the opinion that we should not retreat sir. Sir fate has deposited us here where fate needs us. Our country is vanquished. Its citizens caged in a dictatorship they can't even see. Why would we survive if not to make some change to all that? You said you watched us die sir. Well I cannot contradict your word so we must have. That means we are not under your command. Your standing orders were to keep our nation alive in us. For what reason if not to inspire it those among us now?"
"I watched you die, and now you're alive again. As long as your heart beats until you deliberately file an order to be dismissed, you're under my command and a citizen of the United States of America. Our country was not vanquished, it's just that most of it's missing right now. You're a soldier, Captain, not a fucking Mormon spreading the good word of Watchtower!" Gabriel doesn't yell, but it's firm enough. "Your sudden faith in fate is troublesome. You ever see me train a priest for the unit? Keep the nation live, yes and how does the rest of it go? Do what your country expects of you. Now, I think those people have been kind enough to you, taking care of you all this time. Calling them a dictatorship back to their faces? Fine. Here's an order, and if you truly believe the shit that's starting to spill from your mouth, consider it a last request from a man you thought was dead. Gather your possessions, and prepare for a move. I might expect this from the techs, and even the sailors, but not you, Captain. Is there going to be a further problem, Captain Thompson?"
"What our country expects of us sir. Not what you expect of us. Does our country expect us to retreat and abandon them when they need us most? Colonel I honestly expected you would be more in line with this way of thinking. You could supply us with so much information that we simply cant get here. I have to admit that the mission will be much harder without you sir." The captain states, his tone gaining confidence.
Gabriel makes a mental note for his file cabinet back at the office, but can't help but sigh and ask, "Which mission would that be, Captain? Because your current mission is to protect the United States, and you sound like an idiot. You join the military, you stop being a civilian. It's a different call. But, what's the mission?"
"And how exactly are you protecting the United States sir? I'm sure the crime ridden squalor they describe as the free cities is an exaggeration, but by how much? Is there a Congress, Senate, or Parliament to protect there? Have they accepted your input to any degree? I know what the mission is Mr. Blaze. And we intend to do what needs to be done to accomplish it." the captain retorts boldly.
"I asked you what the mission was," Gabriel states. "Something for which you would like my ability to get information."
"The mission.. is to free the citizens of America." Captain Thompson replies, albeit begrudgingly. "And we need you to show them there is freedom without oppression. That it is not rife with crime and corruption. For surely a man of your integrity has found such a place to reside."
"I have, which is why I have given you a direct order to move. If you're refusing that order from your superior officer, Captain, say so. I'm sure it looks good there. But my order stands." Gabriel hesitates, then says, "Right now, Captain. Aye, or nay?"
"You know I can't agree to that sir. Following you against our flag is just as much treason. But for what it's worth. It was a pleasure serving with you in our own time sir." The captain states solemnly and gives a final salute before the feed is cut.
Though over two weeks later is when things change. A datapad is delivered anonymously, its information unintelligible without an ancient pre-rifts cypher. "Colonel, My deepest apologies for my words when we last spoke. I did not wish to say them. But I had to make them believe I meant them, and I meant to try to bring you over. I know you can't take this message to have any more credit than that one. But it gives me peace of mind at least. Captain Thompson."
