"That me, and it is, but I'd rather not talk about it."

"Whoa! Did you come out of the closet? You could've at least told me."

"That's not funny Peter. I said I don't want to talk about it."

"But we're best friends aren't we? If you're out, you'd think you could tell me."

Michael sighed and shook his head. "You know, these jokes can be classified as a case of homophobia. Would you like to see a counselor?" The silence he got in reply was enough let Michael know he got his point across. "Is everything set for the mission?"

Peter produced a data pad and handed it to Michael. "Set and ready. We're just waiting for you. Do you want to take a shower or something to get that stuff off of you?"

"No time. We're going to be late enough as it is. We have to leave now." He
then proceeded down the hallway leaving Peter behind with a contemplative look on his
face. "You know Michael," he continued, "now that I think of it, you'd look really cute I
a dress..."

"Peter!" Michael roared as he suddenly stopped in his tracks. "You’re going to pay for that."

Peter took this as his cue to make a tactical retreat toward the hanger bay, slipping past Michael's attempt to grab him. "Please don't," Peter called as he ran down the corridor, "you're really not my type!"

*END OF SEGMENT*

The airfield had been removed of all obstructions while air traffic was relocated to the nearest airport close to sixty miles away. The terminal had subsequently been closed down due to an unknown bomb threat nearly three hours ago, and all people inside had been evacuated as the area was declared a no fly zone until further notice. The only people who could be seen now were the local air and ground units of the United Alliance Armed Forces branches. Each one was selectively hand picked based on their security level, and not a single soul on the premises right now had even the slightest bit of training pertaining to bomb disposal.

Not that any of this mattered. None of the forty seven soldiers had any idea that the airfield was closed because of an explosive, but as a precaution, he sent in a black ops unit disguised as demolitions to make rounds though the large building to entertain the press, should they choose to make an appearance. Meanwhile, another black ops unit was keeping the perimeter secure should the press try and brave an attempt to get close enough to the action to better their career in journalism. This operation had to go smoothly unless everything was to unravel before his eyes.

His carefully orchestrated thoughts were interrupted as he noticed someone approaching him. He turned to face the member of the UAAF, making sure to take notice that his grey uniform was not soiled in any way, shape or form. As the General of this division of the United Alliance, he had to keep up appearances. He did, after all, need to set a good example to his troops.

"General Votch!" The young woman called out when she was within earshot of the general, and he vaguely remembered her from somewhere. Perhaps he saw a picture of her attached to some note or memo. Most likely she was some brown-nosing, pathetic gossip monger. Someone who made her way up through the ranks by either sleeping with her superior officers; or stabbing them in the back. Not that the men were any better of course, more often than not, it was the men who were worse.

When the woman got closer, he suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment. The woman was neither a brownnoser, nor was she a back-stabbing wench. In fact, the woman who approached him now was none other than Cpl. Kira Zhang; his personal secretary. Kira was also his foster child for the last twenty years. He cursed silently at himself for his lack of trust in people, and especially for his increasingly faltering eyesight as Kira slowed to a brisk walk.

"Yes Corporal?" He asked in a professional manner. Although she was in nearly all ways his daughter, she was still a subordinate, and it would be unprofessional to show favoritism to her.

"Sir, the others are wondering how much longer we should secure the area. Nothing has shown up on either radar or satellite in the last three hours, and it is becoming a problem to keep the press and local authorities at bay." Simon thought about this for a moment, formulating a plan that would make everyone less tense, and at the same time give the press something to chew on for a while longer until the people they were waiting for arrived. Preferably, it would be something that wouldn't come back and bite him in the ass later.

Suddenly an idea came to him. "Kira, I want you to go to hanger thirteen, the one closest to the terminal, and take a few soldiers with you. Wait there for about three minutes and radio to Charlie team that you've found what could be a homemade nuclear bomb. Then I want you to radio Alpha and Bravo teams with what you're 'found'. They'll clear everyone out, and it should buy us more time."

Kira immediately left to do as she was told, and soon Simons' radio buzzed with activity as she reported her find to the black ops units, who immediately went into action. After a moment he put his radio on a secure frequency and waited again. He didn't have to wait long before a woman's voice broadcasted her report. "Bravo team reporting. Area is secure."

"Alpha team reporting," a male voice replied, "no one's here. It looks like we scared them off for a while."

"Charlie team reporting. Great thinking, but how are we going to get our hands on a nuclear bomb? We can't exactly sneak something like that unnoticed." Simon hadn't thought of that. It was beginning to look like he'd have to come up with another plan, and soon. He had a feeling he was going to regret this, but his thoughts were again interrupted as a startled voice called over the radio. "Sir, this is the tower. It looks like we have something coming in fast at fifty-three thousand meters and closing."

"And how do you expect me to see something from fifty-three thousand meters away? I don't even know what direction."

"With all due respect, try looking up."

Simon did as he was told, and saw what had surprised the man in the tower. Now almost fifty thousand meters up, Simon could clearly see something black growing steadily at a near alarming speed. The real surprise was that a male voice reported this, which meant it had just shown up on satellite. Had it been female, it would have been radar. She had yet to make her report, which meant this vessel was invisible on her radar, but how did it avoid the satellites until now?

_________________
You and you: Panic. Everyone else, Follow me.

"Is it on your screens?" Simon demanded, trying to get an idea of whether this vessel was what they were waiting for. "Negative," the woman voice finally commented.

"Negative," the male replied immediately after. "The laser tracking systems picked it up. I still can't get it on screen." This now eliminated all doubt in his mind. It had to be them, but just how large was this vessel they were traveling in? It had to be huge. With that sudden realization, Simon ordered everyone to take up position on the outer perimeter of the airfield.

No one even bothered to question his order as the sound of the falling ship drew everyone's attention skyward. They immediately made a run to the outer fence as it became evident that the ship would most likely crash instead of land, but at the last minute, the sound of thrusters tore through the sky as the rounded ship abruptly slowed to make a soft landing in the middle of the airfield.

The ship was indeed enormous as its size dwarfed the hangers and other grounded ships under it, and more than a few soldiers looked visibly panicked by how easily it had remained undetected. As the bravest of the soldiers started to make their way forward, the center of the ship opened to reveal a ramp as wide as the runway extending down. The soldiers then lost the remainder of their resolve as sixteen modified tanks rolled down the ramp in groups of four followed by eight modified sports cars, twenty modified military-style motorcycles, twelve unidentifiable fighter jets and one vehicle that looked like a cross breed between a tank and an air museum exhibit all rolled onto the runway.

Behind the parade were four people who walked casually down the ramp in black civilian clothes with matching cloaks, one of which stumbled suddenly and fell off the ramp to the ground below.

* ** *** ** *

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up," Simon exclaimed as he hopped off a confiscated baggage cart Kira had found nearby. He landed roughly and staggered slightly before regaining his balance. "What took you so long?"

Michael stepped forward and embraced his cousin for a moment before taking a step back. "You know how it is. I'd be late for my own funeral if I had half a chance." Simon chuckled slightly before a look of concern crossed his face. "Are you alright? I though I saw you fall off that ramp."

"Oh, it wasn't him," Peter intervened stepping up between the two as he tilted his head to the person being treated by a man in red clothing and the fourth person, a woman with platinum blonde hair. "It was twinkle toes over there."

"Twinkle-toes?" Simon asked humorously, trying to look past the man who was clearly one of the medics. He then turned his attention to the vehicles that were now making their way to the unoccupied hangers around the field. "What's with all this? Are you expecting a war? And why the large ship?"

"Something about all this leaves me with an uneasy feeling," Michael replied gravely. "I just want to be prepared. As for the ship? Well, you know how it is with commercial airlines. We never loose our baggage this way." Peter laughed as Michael said this before adding his thoughts. "Like we could actually loose any of this stuff if we even tried."

_________________
You and you: Panic. Everyone else, Follow me.

"Do you want to take a tour?" Michael asked, noting Peters' attention casually drifting toward Kira who was now trying valiantly to get the baggage cart to start with little success. Simon noticed this too, but said nothing as he considered Michaels invitation. "Tour this ship? You bet your ass I would." He then took a step toward the ramp before turning to Peter. "Peter, would you be as kind as to ask my daughter Kira to join us for a tour of this splendid vessel?"

The look on Peter's face was comical as it reddened in embarrassment while he stuttered a confused reply. ""What? D-daughter? I... I mean Kira? S-sure, I'll get... I get right on it." He then distractedly made his way down the ramp to display the same grace and enunciation to Kira.

"How old is she now?" Michael asked, watching as Peter halted in his rambling to try and compose himself. "Twenty three? Twenty four years old?"

"She's twenty eight now. Same age as him if I remember correctly. Though a little more graceful with words." The two then laughed as Peter made another failed attempt to speak properly, but still managed to get his message across nonetheless. Kira giggled slightly as Peter turned and stormed up the ramp, stopping only for a minute before the two. "I hate you. Both of you." He then continued up the ramp to wait for the three as the pair burst out laughing again.

"At least he said that right." Kira chuckled as she walked past them. Simon then turned his attention back to Michael. "By the way," Simon inquired, "What's that smell? Is there a rose garden on board?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Michael replied bitterly.

_________________
You and you: Panic. Everyone else, Follow me.

The four stood in the middle of a large black room staring at the empty space around them. "This place is huge!" Kira exclaimed, her voice echoing in the barren room. "Is this what your ship looks like?" Peter shook his head to the question, taking his time before answering. "No. This is one half of the lowest level of our ship. There are two more floors to go through."

"It's not bad for a frigate though." Michael added making his way to the door, leaving the other three rushed to catch up with him. "Frigate?" Simon said in awe. "You mean there are others?"

Peter nodded in reply. “The Dreadnought is one of three of our frigate class ships. There is also the Mercy and the Fury. The Archangel, the Quake and the Redeemer are our destroyer class vessels. The Scorpion, the Tarantula, the Scythe, and the Coyote, are cruiser class. The Mantis, and the Diablo are our Battleship class vessels, and the Hells cry is our largest class vessel. It is classified as a land destroyer vessel."

"Which brings us to the babies of the fleet," Michael continued. "What you saw out there were, in order: the Scorpion tanks, the patrollers, the Harpoons, the Tiger Sharks and my personal heartache, Ramrod. Peter created the blueprints for all of them, and personally saw to their creations and armament." He then continued to the door with Peter alongside him, leaving Simon and Kira to linger behind as they took in the enormity of the vessel.

Kira's startled cry caught their attention as the pair turned abruptly to see their guests were surrounded by soldiers in Yellow uniforms. Without warning, one of the soldiers reached out to grab Simon, but quickly realized his mistake as the general grabbed the soldiers' arm while spinning in to put his back against his attacker, before braking the attacker's arm.

The whole process took only a second before he lunged forward and caught another in a clothesline before that soldier could get to Kira. Kira had already regained her composure and fended off three attackers with what looked like a mixture of Ju-Jitsu, Bushido, and Kickboxing. The trio struggled desperately for a minute before they were reinforced with another four soldiers. However, even with the support, the seven soldiers still only managed to succeed only in connecting with each other instead of their target.

Finally one soldier had managed to get a hold of Kira from behind as another two grabbed her arms while keeping themselves out of reach of her powerful legs. Simon noticed this as well, and one soldier took advantage of the distraction to connect his gauntlet with the general's face, knocking him off his feet as several soldiers leapt on top of the fallen man to restrain him.

"That's enough!” Michael and Peter roared in unison, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room. Simon wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Michaels eyes emit a blue glow. A quick check of the startled expressions on the faces of the others in the room however, could not accurately confirm that they had noticed, or were panicked by the wrath of the two leaders.

_________________
You and you: Panic. Everyone else, Follow me.

_________________
You and you: Panic. Everyone else, Follow me.