CHAPTER 9

“Uncle Sam Needs You!”

June 25th, 2040: Yokota Airbase

Inside the headquarters operations room, four-star General Ronan Wolf paced back and forth, watching nearly a dozen operators staring at their computer screens. He looked back up at the main screen as it changed every few seconds to show a different CIWS camera.

“Come on people, someone has to have something.” Only silence followed Wolf’s words. With growing frustration at the ever-pressing situation, he reached for his radio.

“Warhorse to Galaxy.” He hoped AWACS could give him something--anything really.

“Galaxy to Warhorse go ahead.” A young male voice returned.

“Galaxy, have you seen anything on primary radar?”

“I did about five minutes ago but now it’s dropped. Haven’t seen anything since.”

“Copy, continue monitoring. Warhorse out.” With clenched teeth, Wolf walked out the room and almost straight into Brigadier General Karl Perkins

“Perkins, what's the news?”

“Washington has been informed but due to a communication cockup, it was relayed as an attack.”

Wolf could only let out a breath of frustration and held his nose. It was one problem after another. First it was the transfer, then the former slaves that some of the patrols brought and now this unknown radar contact. Before Wolf could utter another word something stirred up everyone in the operations room.

“General you need to see this!” Someone shouted. Wolf along with Perkins complied. On the main screen, they saw one of the CIWS had spun around and was now pointing to something high in the partially clouded sky, making macro movements to follow it.

“Turret seven has locked onto something but our radar can’t see it for whatever reason General. Orders, sir?” One of the closest operators to Wolf asked.

“Use the radar from that phalanx to aid ours. We should then be able to spot it.” Wolf waited with anxiety as they performed his order.

“Ok and… Got it!” All heads snapped to a side screen that had a shared radar. A green dot appeared.

“Wow it’s slow, could be biological?” Perkins watched the green dot move with the speed of a snail on ice.

“Most likely, but we need to confirm--” Wolf was interrupted with the camera jumping to another phalanx gun spinning to the sky.

“Turret six just locked! General, whatever this thing is, it's coming this way.” Another operator turned to Wolf.

“Have we been able to identify it?” Perkins scanned the room but as expected, no one answered. “What about AWACS?”

“They’ve tried every known communication frequency. Nothing but static.” An operator replied from across the room. This was starting to get interesting.

Wolf opened his mouth but was quickly silenced by an alarm. Everyone snapped their attention to the main screen where another phalanx gun had locked.

“Contact has breached our safety bubble. General, those guns will automatically open fire if it gets any closer. Should we disable them?”

“I am well aware of how they operate. Maintain protocol, it’s not our fault if whatever this is gets destroyed by invading our airspace.”

The atmosphere in the room grew more tense with each passing second. Finally, turret seven decided the contact was too close. Spooling its gatling gun, it discharged a torrent of bullets. The tracers making a near-perfect red line across the sky. Shortly after, turret six and five engaged the contact, leaving their own red lines of death across the sky. Not even thirty seconds after the engagement, the guns fell silent. With a smooth motion, they all slowly lowered their gatling guns, still tracking the falling contact.

“Seems they neutralized whatever it was. Get a recon drone in the air, I want to have eyes on it.” Wolf ordered. “Perkins, a word please?” He motioned to the door and they both left.

“Something wrong General?” Perkins noticed how on edge Wolf was, scanning their surroundings before responding.

“Why do I get the unsettling feeling that we have just declared war on a foreign power?” Wolf stared at Perkins, seemingly wanting to be proven wrong.

“I wouldn't go that far General. Besides, it was probably just a dragon like the navy had to deal with. Right now we need to focus on preserving what ammo we have. Here's hoping our counterparts back home can get those supplies here soon. I was told the latest would be Friday.” Perkins gave a reassuring smile. “We have nothing to worry about, besides, aren't we the largest superpower?” Wolf chuckled at the statement.

“Depends, are we going by Earth standards or this world now?” Smirking, Wolf spun on his heels and began walking down the tight hallway.

“Where are you going General?” Perkins raised a confused eyebrow.

“To see that our refugees are having their needs met. Care to join?”

“General, with all due respect. We have more pressing matters--like how we have insufficient manpower to perform even basic tasks.”

“Hmm. I think we have a solution to that problem.” Wolf continued walking, with Perkin’s mind buffering until he finally understood what the General was getting at.

“General you can’t be serious!” Perkins jogged to Wolf’s side. “They’re civilians! Not to mention none of them have even seen a gun, let alone active combat!” He threw his arms in the air, clearly not happy with this turn of events.

“Which is why they will be put into volunteer roles. Ammo packing, cleaning vehicle assets--I hear Galaxy is trying to poach men from the army branch. We don’t need to be at each other's throats for manpower when we already have the solution, wouldn't you agree?” Smugness filled Wolf’s voice.

“I-I-ugh. You’re not wrong General, but this is a slippery slope. I’m not even sure if Washington will support it.”

“Bah, you worry too much. Besides, President Dresden would support this. Hell, I would even bet money that he will want us to hire locals for their knowledge of the land.”

With that settled, Wolf and Perkins left headquarters. Taking a service car, they drove the length of the airbase to reach the hangar being used as temporary shelter for the refugees.

“You sure this is a good idea, General? I don’t mean to question your orders but this seems a bit extreme.” Perkins' concerned look hadn’t left his face since he sat inside the car.

“I know this is outside protocol, but we don’t have any other options. Unless you want soldiers to start pulling double shifts?” Wolf replied.

“Not at all General. I just think it’s not right to pull civilians into this.” Perkins looked through the clipboard on his lap. “Most of these people are second or third-generation slaves. Education is non-existent, most are malnourished and to top it off none of them are fighters.” Perkins turned to Wolf whose face was turning slightly red.

“Do you have an alternative?” Wolf watched Perkins lower his head, staring at his clipboard in silence.

“Look I’ll admit, I don’t like it as much as you do. But we don’t have a choice here. I would rather be court-martialed for conscripting civilians than let this base be overrun by god knows what outside the wire.” Wolf watched Perkins give a simple nod of approval.

Parking outside the hanger, they checked their uniforms before entering. Opening the side door, they were immediately met by two soldiers guarding the entrance.

“G-General Wolf!” One guard yelped all the while snapping to attention. Their racket causing all the other soldiers in the hangar to jump to their feet, making quite a few heads turn even from the refugees.

“At ease men!” Wolf’s voice reverberated off the hanger walls. Looking around he spotted a pile of crates stacked near the front of the hanger. “It’ll have to do.” Wolf thought.

Moving the crates around to raise himself up onto a makeshift stage Wolf ordered Perkins to go find a megaphone. With Perkins, having returned with one Wolf blew into it, making everyone turn to see what caused the weird noise.

“If I could have a moment of your time please?” Wolf paused for the few who didn't seem to notice his presence. “I’m General Ronan Wolf, operating commander of this airfield along with Brigadier General Karl Perkins to my left. We are here today as it has come to my attention that we have a manpower shortage. In light of this, I am asking if anyone here is willing to volunteer for the United States Armed Forces?” Wolf looked around but none of the former slaves seemed too keen on this idea.

“I should state that you will be paid by the hour as per American law, with all the rights and protections it provides. Along with this, joining the Armed Forces allows you to enter into the American Citizenship Program. At the end of your contract and should you pass all the required tests, you will be considered American citizens.” Hoping to entice at least a few people, Wolf was met with more silence. Looking at Perkins he motioned for the megaphone.

“Another point, none of you will be in an active combat role, only support. This means cleaning vehicles, packing magazines and helping ground crews.”

With yet more silence following their words, Wolf and Perkins could read the room and started to make their way out. Guess it’s double shifts for everyone then…

“Wait!” A young male voice echoed from a far corner of the hanger. Spinning around Perkins was met with what he would describe as a teenaged demi-human. Judging by the ears, tail and oversized canine teeth they were most likely wolf. “Will anyone do?” They asked.

“Why of course! We aren't stringent over in America you know. How old are you, son?” Perkins’ eyes scanned over the boy, he was definitely malnourished.

“Umm, I don’t really know…seventeen years I think?” With that bombshell, Perkins turned to Wolf who just sighed in response.

“I’ll take what I can get, anyone else?” Doing a final scan of the hanger, Wolf made his way out followed by Perkins and one recruit. “Better than nothing I guess.” He thought.

With Wolf’s mission being a near-complete failure all three hopped into the service car to begin the ride back to headquarters.

“So what’s your name kid?” Perkins flipped between papers on his clipboard to find the information section.

“Arne Nouth, I don’t know what tribe my family are from…they died not long after I was born.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. If it means anything, I heard some of the guards at the camp you were at got pancaked by our tanks.” Perkins smirked, which the kid returned, at least he had some closure.

“Wait what? Why wasn’t I notified of this!” Wolf shot a glare consisting of confusion and anger at Perkins.

“Yeah about that General. From what I’ve heard many of the squad leaders have been ordering revenge killings with many of the soldiers under their command more than willing to dish it out. Some have even nicknamed it ‘improv court’. Can’t say I support it but I understand why.” Perkins watched as Wolf shifted his eyes to the rearview mirror to see Arne. “Did you see any of this?” The boy was silent for a moment.

“I did see some of your soldiers lining up the head guards and other important people, then they killed them.”

“Jesus Christ at this rate we’re turning into the fucking Gestapo.” Wolf tightened his grip around the steering wheel. Losing control of his soldiers would lead to a disaster that he couldn’t fix. Not to mention the PR nightmare it would cause.

“I’ll try to get a leash on them. In the meantime, we need to get our new recruit here situated.”

Returning to headquarters Perkins took Arne to get registered while Wolf headed back to the operations room. Opening the door he saw a lot of worried faces.

“Anything interesting happen?” Wolf turned his attention to the main screen where the drone feed was showing how the earlier contact had ended.

“From what we understand, we have shot down a griffin and, unless we are mistaken, there was someone riding it.” One operator explained, making Wolf rub his forehead.

“This just gets more and more ludicrous…”