Codename: Alpha One Base

A base used for the first part of WW3 against China, a base used for the prelude of war.

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1. The Beginning

Codename Alpha Base:

 

Commander’s Log: July 15, 2042, Commander James ‘Squirrel’ Nong Commanding.

 

The base is under repair after typhoon hit last week, causing light damage despite shields that were up to deflect the wind and debris caused by the storm.  Everything should be on track and fully functional in another day’s time, already resuming flight operations and shipments of the SST sent from Edwards Base in California. It is a welcomed situation after a week without shipments in a nightly basis.

 

So far we have not been noticed by the Chinese fleet that has been roaming across the Pacific, giving our Navy a hectic time to keep tabs on them. Our base has maintained anonymity and with luck it will stay that way.  So far both sides have kept the peace. I suspect that it won’t be too long until all out battle erupts on the Pacific as a battleground, and so long as it does not interfere with our task and our mission here I am thankful.  If that happens, we are undermanned, with only two squadrons, insufficient for repelling an attack of the Chinese forces, and I have sent for reinforcements.  There should be a response in a day or so, granting the request. I am hopeful for a positive outcome.

 

 

Commander Nong sat in his desk in his office, located underground, and he finished typing his log entry on his computer screen. As he reread it quickly, checking for mistakes, he managed a nod and a grimace at the log entry. He had been here a long time on this base, as Commander, a safe haven located far out in the middle of the South Pacific in which he conducted flight operations on NASA test modules. A job that was not half bad, even for him. The island itself is a large facility, about fifty miles in diameter, and it has one large runway and three hangars around the large deep water lagoon in the center where three ships were moored as part of the detail of protecting this base. It is also one of the most high tech in the world and could repel most attacks, but even then it was surely undermanned for the report of the Chinese Fleet that now roamed across the Pacific like the Japanese over ninety years ago during the last big war. Still something nagged at him, an uncomfortable feeling which he just could not shake. He managed a silent frown.

 

 

As he scanned the office silently, he cast a look at the large bay window that overlooked the reef located here at the base, silently watching the schools of fish as they swam along with other creatures who are residents of the reef here.  James felt his mood drop even further as he watched the fish in his personal aquarium, and he turned away in disgust. He scanned his office, a Spartan furnished office that is rather large, with a couch against one wall, a desk in the center of the room near a Bay window behind him that overlooked the reef. His eyes fell upon the door, and there his XO stood, Juan ‘Chihuahua’ Valdez, who managed a casual salute to his Commander.  He had not heard him enter the office or seen him prop himself at the door.

 

 

Juan is five, five, with dark hair, slightly heavy set, with dark eyes, and he wears the familiar reddish uniform of the EDC that was established in the 2025  when the Moon was colonized and Mars using the new fleet of ships that had been designed by NASA for deep space travel.

 

 

“What can I do for you XO?” James intoned sharply, glancing at the bay window as he motioned for him to enter.  Juan casually entered, and he stood casually in front of the desk, not taking a usual seat as he always did when entering James’ office.

 

 

“Just reporting in Commander. We have a radar contact from the shack on the scopes. The Chinese fleet just past us again, followed closely by the US NAVY.” he said with a grimace.

 

 

“Great. The more the merrier,” James said with a sneer. “Have they figured out that we are here yet?”

 

 

Juan shook his head. “Shields are at a constant sixty-five percent during day, and the cloaking device is constant to keep us hidden from view. I have two F-18 Super hornets on alert though, just in case we are discovered by anyone, and to ID any unknown contacts.”

 

 

“Good thinking,” James said, “Just keep us hidden and remain calm, like a hole in the water. So long as we do nothing, they won’t find us out here.”

 

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

 

“Keep me informed on the radar contacts,” he said, “I’ll probably be in here working on reports most of the afternoon.”

 

 

“Yes, sir,” Juan said, holding a tablet in his hands as he took notes. “Is there anything else?”

 

 

“Negative, please carry out your duties,” Commander Nong said formally, and Juan saluted, which James returned half-heartedly, before his second in command turned and exited into the outer office.  As he exited into the outer office, Juan spied Petty Officer Myers, sitting at her desk as she typed a report for the base. She ignored him as he walked past her and toward the outer doors. Juan stared at her silently before exiting; however, the young woman seemed so familiar to him. Shaking his head he exited into the busy corridor where many people walked along on and off duty. He headed for the nearest lift, heading for the radar shack to carry out his duties as per his orders. Finding the turbo-lift, the doors snapped open and allowed him to enter.

 

 

“Level Please,” the lift’s computerized voice said, and he grinned.

 

 

“Bridge, please.”  

 

 

The lift rose upward. Juan held onto the rails as the lift moved like lightning to the bridge, his destination to complete his orders given by James. He was unprepared for what was about the happen, and he only had a few minutes before the lift would stop on the bridge, the doors snapping open. His duty was clear.

 

 

A few minutes later, the doors snapped open onto the busy bridge. It is a large deck with rows of computers and seats, looking like mission control out of Houston and an Air Traffic Control Tower than anywhere else. As he walked onto the deck, the doors behind him snapped closed, allowing him to walk toward the radar control station where a young enlisted sat watching the scopes. He walked quickly toward the young woman, who monitored the scopes on her shift.

 

 

“Status report…” he announced, as he walked toward her, and the young woman, surprised looked up from her screens.

 

 

“Everything is the same, Sir,” She told him. “Fleet is in route, on course bearing two, two, five at fifteen knots.”

 

 

“Okay.”

 

 

“…They have aircraft over us, looking us over as usual, but we are cloaked and shielded, protected from them at the moment,” Another voice chimed in, as a young man stood from one of the many consoles. “The base currently is on condition green.”

 

 

“Maintain status, let them look us over, but don’t do anything that would give us away on our position.  The Commander will be down, make sure to keep an eye on the China Fleet. They are not our proverbial enemies, but I have a feeling that all hell is about to break loose with each run they pass us by,” Juan ordered, and the people in the control room merely nodded at the sentiment.

 

 

“Aye XO,” They chimed in and Juan nodded, walking toward the command chair, in which he took a seat.  He nodded to the nearest station.

 

 

“Put up the data on visual please,” he said, and they switched over to the camera view that overlooked the ocean. It zoomed in on the fleet that now steamed away from them.   He grimaced at the sight of it.

 

 

 “Damn,” He muttered softly, staring at the screen.

 

 

“Radar indicate two interceptors are overhead, sir,” a voice said, and he managed a nod. “They are crossing over us at about five hundred knots, sir. They seem to have spotted the dishes on the mountain.”

 

 

“As far as they are concerned, they are telecommunications dishes,” Juan mused, “They’d never know they were used for other purposes. Maintain shields and cloaking, double check that there are no burnouts or any power losses on the shield and cloaking circuits.”

 

 

“Aye.”

 

 

Outside the planes streaked overhead as more appeared, and they banked to the right, the pilots in control as they rocketed over the island’s land mass at a low altitude.  The planes dipped sharply and streaked upward into the sky.  On the bridge, the crew all watched, holding their breath, as the planes circled the island.

 

 

“Sir, we have two F-18’s in range,” another voice said, “from the Carrier John F. Kennedy, no doubt, Battle group Six.”  

 

 

“Increase the cloaking module to eighty percent power,” Juan said staring at the screen as the camera showed the planes moving about the island overhead. An alarm sounded, a moment later.

 

 

“An enemy plane just struck our shield,” A voice said. “It bounced off and is damaged.”  On the screen, the smoking jet moved across the sky and suddenly exploded. There was no parachute.

 

 

“Oh shit,” Juan said, “Condition red, all decks, prepare for attack.”

 

 

A klaxon sounded on the whole base, making all personnel run to their battle positions.  There was a whistle, and Juan turned to hit the control pad on the arm.  Outside the Chinese planes formed up, and they streaked at the base at a low altitude, the pilots working fast in their cockpits.  It was the same for the US pilots as they controlled their aircraft, streaking past the Chinese jets. A battle was about to brew and happen.

 

 

            “Commander to Bridge.”

 

           

            “Bridge, Lieutenant Valdez,” Juan replied.

 

 

            “What’s going on?”

 

 

            “We have just been hit by a Chinese plane, against our shields, and it was destroyed. Three more aircraft have just been sighted over the base sir, moving in with four more F-18s from the US fleet,” Juan reported, “Apparently the Chinese plane was low enough and hit and bounced off.”

 

 

            “I’ll be right there,” James said, and Juan grimaced.

 

 

            “Aye, sir,” he replied, closing the channel.  James ran onto the bridge from the lift a moment later.

 

 

            “Have they opened up on us yet?” James asked, and Juan shook his head negatively.

 

 

            “I suspect they’re going to sir,” he replied, as more planes buzzed the base in the sky. Like a mob of angry hornets, the planes mixed it up, as they took positions, daring each other to cross the line. On the water, Chinese ships turned and headed the opposite direction, moving into battle position, readying to open fire on the fleet. All hell was about to happen as Juan had thought, and a ripple of fear moved through the base.

 

 

            “Sir, the Chinese fleet has changed course, turning to three, one five, speed ten knots,” a voice said alarmed. “The US Fleet is maneuvering as well.”

 

 

            “Here we go,” James said with an air of caution. “The fleets are moving into battle positions to slug it out.”

 

 

            “It does not look good sir,” Juan replied, as he moved to each station, as war was about to start between two powers all because of a miscalculation of the pilot and the base shields.

 

 

            “What’s the next move?” Juan asked, and he glanced at James who stood up from his chair.

 

 

            “Prepare missiles and all defenses for an attack.” He said, “Increase shield to full.”

 

 

            “Aye, sir,” voices all chimed in at once as they worked feverishly on the consoles before them. In the underground hangar, pilots rushed to their planes, ground forces were scrambled to take positions throughout the base on the surface of the island. Doors and hatches were secure leading to the interior of the underground base, and crews rushed about the ships, moored in the center lagoon. Even with two squadrons and three destroyers, Juan and even James wondered if they had a chance to assist the NAVY fleet against the attack of such magnitude of over one hundred ships.

 

           

            “And God, help us all,” James said with a sarcastic tone, as around him there was movement by the crew in the control room.  They worked quickly as a klaxon sounded throughout the whole base, putting everyone on alert, topside and below ground. In the hangar, planes were prepared for take off, as the two squadrons were prepared to launch to meet the threat, the first preludes of war.  Intensity was on the eyes and faces of every man on the base, on the ships and in the planes. All were ready for a fight to the finish and ready to win as necessary.  A battle they were not sure they should start but had come. World war three had come at last. No-one cheered on either side, as it was an unwelcome beginning to the new decade of the twenty-first century.

 

 

WC: 2,192

 

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