Private Thoughts.
Start 9810292039
Working Title: Private Thoughts
IDF 25 Beta (Blue Flight Lead) personal entry 2013/04/05,
2050 (T1 base time.)
I guess I should be grateful, but it scares the hell out of
me. Today I wandered through the base as I usually do on my
watch, saying hello to people I ran across; fliers, comms,
surveillance, ground crew, maintenance crew. It's a good
morale building exercise, though for whom I'm not sure: I'm
selfish in doing it since I couldn't keep sane without
knowing the calibre - the incredible spirit - of people in
this base known as Terra One.
Terra One. Even the name spells expectation and tension.
Though we usually only refer to airbourne units this way,
T1 is the flagship base. Some days heading up this
operation stresses the hell out of me.
I have a recurring dream (nightmare?) every now and then. A
montage of images around the base and on patrol - I get my
hands dirty whenever I can - and more disturbingly, images
from our silent counterparts' viewpoint. We found out their
name two weeks ago examining a captured tanker 40 seconds
before it's self-destruct claimed our people: j'khatnhir.
T1's sentient translates this as a mix of 'assassin',
'life-taker', and 'subjugater'. Not your friendly type.
It is truly chilling to dream of seeing an alien computer
lock weapons on your craft, thumb(?) hovering over a
missile trigger that could lead to terrifying moments of
vicious evasive manoeuvres, and a thin chance of survival.
A voice haunts me in these dreams saying 'many eyes are
upon you'. Watching. Analysing. Waiting for the perfect
moment. I even had a dream the other night that I was on
patrol and my ship started shuddering (quivering??); the
normally serene AI - my alpha, or partner - was like I'd
never seen her before, saying nothing but 'many eyes are
upon us'. If that doesn't make someone paranoid I'm not
sure what would.
Anyway, digressing. After walking through the underground
corridors of T1 I like to wander out to the surface. To see
the stars dirtside for a change, to smell the beautifully
natural air, to hear the gentle, soothing sigh of the
breeze through pine needles, to gaze at the city lights
shimmering in the heat haze, wondering of the oblivious
lives there; lives that we're charged with protecting.
Amazing that our benefactors even thought of disguising the
base as a remote holiday resort on the skyside. Would that
we were so innocuous, would that our minds were so light.
Today I walked down through the shrubbery and to the
surrounding parklands. It was then that I came across a
stark reminder of our precarious situation here as
temporary guests of Terra - as were all humans for that
matter. This was proof that nothing was a given; that there
were forces, no, inteligences out there that wanted what we
had. Malevolent, and equiped to show it. Wanting a
relatively unexploited planet in a backwater star system.
The reminder came in the form of the EDS, or Extreme Duress
Shield. Every time I see it it sends a chill down my spine.
That we should need such a measure, that we could conceive
of protecting ourselves when people outside might take the
hit...
While walking like this through the base parklands I
occasionaly stray out far enough to come across it. In
relaxed stance - as it was now - you could almost stumble
across it without knowing. A metre thick strip encircling
the base. We call it obsidian since that's the closest
material we know to it. Jet black and yet highly
reflective, almost as if it's oblivious to everything
around it. The lush vegetation that grows on the ranges
around here avoids it. It doesn't get cut back or burnt, it
just somehow knows to avoid it.
The theory is that in the event of a physical attack on the
base, the EDS, which is two shells, actually perfect half
spheres, would, upon command from the base sentient
(another enigma), instantly clam shut, protecting the base
against everything from a ground assault to an orbital EMP,
nuclear, or ionic attack.
We tried a reflex test about a week ago at 2am. Nightwatch
ran the simulation. A (dormant) HiCobalt missile was fired
at the base from 200km away. When the missile crossed the
40km proximity threshold, the shield clammed up exactly as
advertised. Talk about engineering, the shield took just
two seconds to close, and it did so with a precision and
efficiency that would demand awe if it did not instead
invoke dread/anguish at the conditions that might cause a
live reflex reaction. Only a slightly audible clang was
heard as it sealed - these shells are a good 4000 metres
across! We were cut off from the outside world. No light,
no radio transmissions, and critically no radiation got in
or out. It was like the rest of the world didn't exist - or
perhaps that we no longer existed to the outside world.
With the test over it took just 10 seconds for the shells
to silently slide back to their tracks, almost innocent.
That the base sentient could - would - consider this a
necessary, but entirely normal series of events, is beyond
me. I shudder to think of the conditions he/she was brought
up to think of as normal.
Every time I see the EDS, it brings to sharp, horrifying
focus just how close to home this battle could get. That
we, the protectors, could actually protect ourselves while
our precious, frail, civilian population lay prone, is
beyond all ethical comprehension. My mind recoils just
thinking of the idea. Though I may not agree with the petty
domestic politics, these are TERRANS. Without them we would
be...
"29 to control, flight of three birds, patrol is clear,
permission to land."
Another good crew home safely. Sometimes just marching
along our side of the territory with a sabre and shield is
enough to keep the peace. Thankfully.
I can't help thinking of those silent ships on the other
side of the line that are so intent, that are thinking
"catch you next time"...
We live to fight another day - more rather defend another
day. Another day that the people we protect can continue
with their lives, with their loves, without the brutal
influence of conflict turning everything upside down. The
day when our j'khatnhir 'counterparts' act rather than just
think is, I fear, drawing nearer with every patrol. Still,
if I can afford our people ("our people!?" how long has it
been since I was truly a part of that civilisation?) a few
more hours of life without knowing how thin the line
between life and death may be, then so much the better:
this day has been worthwhile.