Turn 9 Story Start
The year started out with a bang. Literally. You found yourself hauled out of bed and dragged down to the command center by Sergeant Ngô as alarms howled and wailed in the background. On the main status board was an ominous glowing indicator..
“Radio telescope picked up what is believed to be a large KF signature at a nearby pirate point, we are currently attempting to determine what may be incoming.” comes the terse report from the duty officer.
You tense, this could be what you had feared. “All units alerted?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The Falcon squadron has scrambled and is boosting towards low orbit, all units are reporting readiness.” came the terse response.
Hours crawl by as you are forced to wait while the relatively small telescopes at the University are pressed into service searching for an incoming threat.
All units report ready for action, the Falcons have started patrol rotations in order to maintain a continuous orbital watch.
General Wolf arrives from where he was overseeing preparations for the next set of Rapid Reaction Force exercises two hours after the alert is given, a respectable turn around time considering he was almost two hours out from the capital when the alert was given.
Janet shows up with the Black Bean of Life, earning a thankful nod. The alert continues.
You are on your twelfth cup of coffee when word comes down. There’s nothing there. False positive on the initial jump flare report is listed as the most likely culprit.
You really need to improve your orbital infrastructure so you can get some proper deep space radar systems in place.
A few days later word comes from the university that the actual cause of the false alarm was the sudden appearance of a transient nova flare from a previously steady star about 9k light years away. So a solar burp nine thousand years ago caused you to miss a night's sleep.
You are annoyed. You complain to Sergeant Ngô about this for hours.
Then your husband manages to distract you by dragging you and the kids off to the zoo for the day. The young damntigers are on display in a specially constructed habitat and are the stars of the zoo. OK, you decide, if they are only half as deadly as they are cute when they’re play-wrestling with large balls and each other, they are the most lethal creature on the planet.
Your son again tries Pleading Little Boy Eyes on you to get a damntiger as a pet. You, as the properly mature adult, manage to succeed at your resistance check at the memory of just how huge the damn things get when fully grown.
You note that the zoo is campaigning to have the name changed to the Grifftiger.
[] Support this, it’s a much better name for such a wonderful creature!
[] Are they nuts? They’re damntigers and damn scary! (and cute… hush you traitorous voice)
[] Write-in
While you are at the zoo a number of the zookeepers and ecologists buttonhole you to press for an exploration expedition to chart the rivers of the equatorial continent. They give a number of very cogent arguments, mostly relating to the possibility of natural resources hidden underneath the jungle canopies, as well as a burning desire to learn more about the ecology of the planet. They’ve got a very good handle on the local ecology, but the deep jungles of that continent are an irresistible mystery to the scientists.
They do inform you of some of what they’ve learned so far. The observed growth rate of the cubs tracks to them reaching subadult (but sexually mature) status at around age 15 or so, and assuming growth rates continue at the same pace they would be full adults at 50 or so. They have no idea about maximum longevity. Surprisingly they are habitual carnivores, not obligate carnivores, and supplement their diet with small quantities of certain fruits. The bioluminescent compound in their coats appears to be derived from symbiotic bacteria very similar to bacteria found on the fruit itself, which are native to the equatorial continent. This has the zoologists a bit puzzled but they have a number of theories.
Now that you think about it…
You decide to hold a contest in grade schools for a good name for the equatorial continent.
[] Write-in
Of course, on the home front, the twins are in the terrible twos, and having two of ‘em at the same time makes that trial all the more vexing. Jeremy fortunately is proving to be an excellent big brother and seems to enjoy taking time to play with the twins and share his toys with them. You of course take full credit for this. When he throws a tantrum because somebody told him no? That’s obviously your husband's fault. Most likely because of Tyler.
Stating this obvious truth usually results in you getting tickled by your loving husband. So you make a point of stating it as often as it happens. You’ve decided to hold off a little on having more munchkins, but that resolution starts to wear thin after a while and you inevitably find yourself pregnant again.
Not because you lost your willpower and decided to stop taking the pill, no, it’s totally Willis’ fault and that is your story and you are sticking to it.
Sergeant Ngô finds this hilarious, but then again she’s on her second child herself.
You get word back from the icebreakers about a month after they’ve set out. Evidently they’re returning after having expended all of their ammo dealing with, of all things, hyper-aggressive carnivorous dire penguins. It takes you a few read throughs of the reports for it to fully sink in. Dire. Penguins. There are a few injuries and rather extensive… gnawing… damage to the icebreakers. The only thing anybody can think of doing here is to replace the machine guns with flamers, with a fusion engine on the icebreakers that way they won’t run out of… anti-penguin countermeasures.
You never thought you’d consider such a phrase anywhere outside of a comedy script.
On the plus side, after repairs and counter-penguin upgrades and training, the icebreakers return to test things out. Evidently the dire penguins are very tasty when fried. Something to keep in mind!
You are grateful when the planetary surveillance network detects a massive storm system heading towards the capital region well before it arrives. The early warning allows for people to shelter in place in time, and the storm passes with minimal disruption (although you are a bit upset that your favorite garden got trashed by hail).
In other news, there is finally an opposition party forming, although they have no seats in either the Lords or the Commons, they are led by one of the men who’d originally been considered for your political advisor.
After seeing the first of their rather buffoonish campaign commercials, combined with the laughably badly thought out wording of their early press releases… You are VERY glad that Josh Baldwin is NOT your political advisor. And very glad that he IS the political advisor for your adversaries.
You and Professor Chapman have a few laughs at his expense.
The year started out with a bang. Literally. You found yourself hauled out of bed and dragged down to the command center by Sergeant Ngô as alarms howled and wailed in the background. On the main status board was an ominous glowing indicator..
“Radio telescope picked up what is believed to be a large KF signature at a nearby pirate point, we are currently attempting to determine what may be incoming.” comes the terse report from the duty officer.
You tense, this could be what you had feared. “All units alerted?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The Falcon squadron has scrambled and is boosting towards low orbit, all units are reporting readiness.” came the terse response.
Hours crawl by as you are forced to wait while the relatively small telescopes at the University are pressed into service searching for an incoming threat.
All units report ready for action, the Falcons have started patrol rotations in order to maintain a continuous orbital watch.
General Wolf arrives from where he was overseeing preparations for the next set of Rapid Reaction Force exercises two hours after the alert is given, a respectable turn around time considering he was almost two hours out from the capital when the alert was given.
Janet shows up with the Black Bean of Life, earning a thankful nod. The alert continues.
You are on your twelfth cup of coffee when word comes down. There’s nothing there. False positive on the initial jump flare report is listed as the most likely culprit.
You really need to improve your orbital infrastructure so you can get some proper deep space radar systems in place.
A few days later word comes from the university that the actual cause of the false alarm was the sudden appearance of a transient nova flare from a previously steady star about 9k light years away. So a solar burp nine thousand years ago caused you to miss a night's sleep.
You are annoyed. You complain to Sergeant Ngô about this for hours.
Then your husband manages to distract you by dragging you and the kids off to the zoo for the day. The young damntigers are on display in a specially constructed habitat and are the stars of the zoo. OK, you decide, if they are only half as deadly as they are cute when they’re play-wrestling with large balls and each other, they are the most lethal creature on the planet.
Your son again tries Pleading Little Boy Eyes on you to get a damntiger as a pet. You, as the properly mature adult, manage to succeed at your resistance check at the memory of just how huge the damn things get when fully grown.
You note that the zoo is campaigning to have the name changed to the Grifftiger.
[] Support this, it’s a much better name for such a wonderful creature!
[] Are they nuts? They’re damntigers and damn scary! (and cute… hush you traitorous voice)
[] Write-in
While you are at the zoo a number of the zookeepers and ecologists buttonhole you to press for an exploration expedition to chart the rivers of the equatorial continent. They give a number of very cogent arguments, mostly relating to the possibility of natural resources hidden underneath the jungle canopies, as well as a burning desire to learn more about the ecology of the planet. They’ve got a very good handle on the local ecology, but the deep jungles of that continent are an irresistible mystery to the scientists.
They do inform you of some of what they’ve learned so far. The observed growth rate of the cubs tracks to them reaching subadult (but sexually mature) status at around age 15 or so, and assuming growth rates continue at the same pace they would be full adults at 50 or so. They have no idea about maximum longevity. Surprisingly they are habitual carnivores, not obligate carnivores, and supplement their diet with small quantities of certain fruits. The bioluminescent compound in their coats appears to be derived from symbiotic bacteria very similar to bacteria found on the fruit itself, which are native to the equatorial continent. This has the zoologists a bit puzzled but they have a number of theories.
Now that you think about it…
You decide to hold a contest in grade schools for a good name for the equatorial continent.
[] Write-in
Of course, on the home front, the twins are in the terrible twos, and having two of ‘em at the same time makes that trial all the more vexing. Jeremy fortunately is proving to be an excellent big brother and seems to enjoy taking time to play with the twins and share his toys with them. You of course take full credit for this. When he throws a tantrum because somebody told him no? That’s obviously your husband's fault. Most likely because of Tyler.
Stating this obvious truth usually results in you getting tickled by your loving husband. So you make a point of stating it as often as it happens. You’ve decided to hold off a little on having more munchkins, but that resolution starts to wear thin after a while and you inevitably find yourself pregnant again.
Not because you lost your willpower and decided to stop taking the pill, no, it’s totally Willis’ fault and that is your story and you are sticking to it.
Sergeant Ngô finds this hilarious, but then again she’s on her second child herself.
You get word back from the icebreakers about a month after they’ve set out. Evidently they’re returning after having expended all of their ammo dealing with, of all things, hyper-aggressive carnivorous dire penguins. It takes you a few read throughs of the reports for it to fully sink in. Dire. Penguins. There are a few injuries and rather extensive… gnawing… damage to the icebreakers. The only thing anybody can think of doing here is to replace the machine guns with flamers, with a fusion engine on the icebreakers that way they won’t run out of… anti-penguin countermeasures.
You never thought you’d consider such a phrase anywhere outside of a comedy script.
On the plus side, after repairs and counter-penguin upgrades and training, the icebreakers return to test things out. Evidently the dire penguins are very tasty when fried. Something to keep in mind!
You are grateful when the planetary surveillance network detects a massive storm system heading towards the capital region well before it arrives. The early warning allows for people to shelter in place in time, and the storm passes with minimal disruption (although you are a bit upset that your favorite garden got trashed by hail).
In other news, there is finally an opposition party forming, although they have no seats in either the Lords or the Commons, they are led by one of the men who’d originally been considered for your political advisor.
After seeing the first of their rather buffoonish campaign commercials, combined with the laughably badly thought out wording of their early press releases… You are VERY glad that Josh Baldwin is NOT your political advisor. And very glad that he IS the political advisor for your adversaries.
You and Professor Chapman have a few laughs at his expense.
