bi·na·ry
ˈbīnərē,ˈbīˌnərē/
adjective
relating to, composed of, or involving two things.
nex·us
ˈneksəs/
noun
a connection or series of connections linking two or more things.
One possible meaning: A relationship of two kinds linking two or more things.
(Spoiler contains Mood Music)
Chapter One: Binary Nexus
Location, Time, and Weather
Former United States of America, Florida, Eglin Army of Southern Cross Base, edge of Runway 17R.
11:45 a.m.
Sunny, slightly warm, little cloud activity, very little chance of rain.
Colonel Hiram Sharp of the Army of Southern Cross looked up and sighed longingly. The sky was clear and blue with hardly a cloud in sight - perfect flying weather. He felt it was a good omen for such a day, unlike yesterday when the tornado had barreled through Eastern Alabama and parts of his own Florida, changing lives for the worse with its every turbulent spin. These days were busy and uncertain enough without tornadoes which made for interesting times.
"May you live in interesting times," he thought of the phrase as he adjusted his glasses. It was a Chinese saying but it was also used as a curse. The colonel, a tank commander and historian of many years, felt he needed "curse-breakers" of a sort to solve the problems facing Eglin base and perhaps all of Florida. He was hoping that today, fate would provide him just that.
The colonel stood with a shining Veritech Hover Tank in tank mode behind him as if there for a backdrop. Upon its menacing main gun were the red, white, and blue letters painstakingly painted along that long barrel reading, "Patton's Answer." Beside that sat a deep blue AJACS Veritech in helicopter mode with its wing pylons filled with electronics and hard-hitting missiles. The pristine bird gleamed in the daylight as if ready to fly at a moment's notice. Both vehicles showed their share of Zentraedi kill markers.
Off to the side of these two vehicles stood the largest vehicle of the three, completely draped with an enormous camouflage tent. All that polyester and nylon could not conceal a Valkyrie Veritech Fighter in Guardian mode, though the reasons for its concealment had not been spoken by the five ASC destroid pilots huddled protectively and anticipatingly at its feet.
These combat aviators did not seem like they were part of today's gathering, for the five of them wore their standard flight gear. One thing was clear - they were an established unit with obvious camaraderie. They seemed to be waiting for someone. They nodded appreciatively to the colonel whenever the chance came to meet his eye. Upon their uniforms, the motorcycle-riding, leather-clad creature on the patch of the Ghost Riders loomed. One of the five men was tall, tremendously fat, and would have stood out from the rest even if he was not, so strange were his mannerisms.
As Colonel Sharp stood looking every bit his name in his medal-bedecked battle dress uniform, he looked out past his own staff to the young military soldiers who stood before him. About twenty young soldiers, dressed in their best battle dress uniforms, stood either by themselves or in small clusters like teenagers in a high school gymnasium. He saw a variety of expressions in each of their faces, from the pink-haired young woman to the gigantically-muscled tanker who stood out like a MAC II among destroids.
To Colonel Sharp, they represented the future - Earth's future. Whether they succeeded here or not, he hoped they would live on to shape humanity's future in ways that he could only dream about. He hoped they would come together and make something new that had never before happened in the history of his beloved Army.
It was the reason they were here after all.
Not two weeks ago, each of them had received, delivered in person from a high-ranking Eglin major, a formal verbal invitation by none other than the commander of Eglin ASC base, Brigadier General George Steele. The top secret invitation explained that a special opportunity was now available to the invitee in recognition for exceptionally high standards, educational achievements, and recommendations. The invitation was explicit - interested parties were to arrive here in full battle dress uniform at this precise date and time. To even be tardy was grounds for exclusion. In other words, no excuses. Either show up at or before 12:00 p.m. noon or do not bother showing up.
But the message was clear enough; this was the kind of opportunity that most hard-working ASC recruits dreamed of. Back in the 20th century, tenacious, clean-nosed pilots like those of the SR-71 Blackbird received invitations like this. If they did not show, they had no idea what they were missing out on. But if they did show and if they did qualify, it could well be a career-changing, life-changing event. The average received no such distinctions.
In the crowd of recruits, Toph Kirin and Elinor Hall stood together. On their way here, they had both seen the Eglin ASC Fire Department pulling onto the grounds of the T.A.S.C. officers quarters where they lived. When they looked back at the building, black smoke could be seen rising ominously. A few young women were outside their dorms in a total panic. Despite the scene, neither T.A.S.C. pilot could consider going back to their quarters lest they be tardy and disqualified. It was likely a great comfort to know that the Eglin ASC Fire Department was considered the best military fire department in all of Florida.
Recruit Mario Zuko stood alone in the crowd for the moment. While there were T.A.S.C. pilots assembled here, he did not see Shirley Mackenzie among them. He did however know the colonel. And the colonel knew him. How was a mystery but still their first meeting was undeniable. It was likely an odd feeling to be in such a position where the only person you really felt you knew was the commanding officer of this unusual event.
Recruit Hercules Papadopolis also did not see anyone he recognized, but one thing was sure - every soldier here was cut from the same cloth - every person here had worked so very hard to get here, sacrificed the good times spent by many, many other people of around the same age.
Down the runway at a casual speed came a M-770 Staff Hovercar with Eglin markings. While many heads turned at its arrival, Colonel Sharp seemed to watch the vehicle with special interest and a small, hopeful smile. As it came to a stop, two ASC military officers stepped out of the front of the vehicle and courteously opened the back doors for their passengers. Their apparently civilian passengers.
Out of the car came an Asian woman of exceptional grace and beauty dressed in formal attire that made her look every bit the professional doctor with a sense of style all the way down to her white vest and skirt. With black hair tied into an intricate bun, she possessed the kind of beauteous face and eyes that artists created from their dreams. More than one man present, young or otherwise, turned and looked. And kept looking.
One of Sharp's officers went to the trunk of the car and pulled forth an ordinary wheelchair that looked as if it had come from the Eglin medical center. Into this, the youngest person present slipped from the back seat into this chair with practice. He had sharp-looking short black hair and he wore blue corduroy jeans and a bright white shirt with the NASA logo on it where the words, "I Need My Space" blazed proudly. The Asian lady and he chatted briefly. He seemed to be agreeing to her request to push his chair.
At that point, one of Colonel Sharp's staff approached waving his hand in a discreet but disapproving fashion. "Excuse me, ma'am. This is a top secret meeting. Minors are not allowed." She did not answer him but instead she looked back toward the staff car.
A large round man emerged with tremendous presence, great white hair, and a long beard that carried well with the late morning breeze. He wore a long-sleeved, deep blue suit and tie and appeared every bit the professional. There was a steeliness in his eyes as he replied to the officer. "If he goes, I go."
"That won't be necessary." Colonel Sharp moved away from his position and left his assembly to meet the fellow (it was his assembly after all). "Lieutenant, these are my guests. All of them." Sharp's lieutenant grinned wordlessly and nodded in understanding and relief. The large civilian and the colonel moved toward each other meeting in the middle of their crossed distances. There was a great gladness shared between the two as they shook hands like old friends do.
"Albert! Damned glad to finally see you!"
"Hiram! Looking good, old boy!"
Together, they chatted with great fondness while 'Arthur' introduced his two friends. The four of them slowly made their way to the assembly.
The time was 11:50 a.m. The time for roll call would be very soon. This gave the special newcomers a chance to do as they would.
ˈbīnərē,ˈbīˌnərē/
adjective
relating to, composed of, or involving two things.
nex·us
ˈneksəs/
noun
a connection or series of connections linking two or more things.
One possible meaning: A relationship of two kinds linking two or more things.
*
(Spoiler contains Mood Music)
"The Right Stuff" Theme for The Right Stuff soundtrack by Bill Conti (instrumental). I place this here in part in salute to the late Mercury 7. Godspeed John Glenn and all of the Mercury 7.
Chapter One: Binary Nexus
Location, Time, and Weather
Former United States of America, Florida, Eglin Army of Southern Cross Base, edge of Runway 17R.
11:45 a.m.
Sunny, slightly warm, little cloud activity, very little chance of rain.
Colonel Hiram Sharp of the Army of Southern Cross looked up and sighed longingly. The sky was clear and blue with hardly a cloud in sight - perfect flying weather. He felt it was a good omen for such a day, unlike yesterday when the tornado had barreled through Eastern Alabama and parts of his own Florida, changing lives for the worse with its every turbulent spin. These days were busy and uncertain enough without tornadoes which made for interesting times.
"May you live in interesting times," he thought of the phrase as he adjusted his glasses. It was a Chinese saying but it was also used as a curse. The colonel, a tank commander and historian of many years, felt he needed "curse-breakers" of a sort to solve the problems facing Eglin base and perhaps all of Florida. He was hoping that today, fate would provide him just that.
The colonel stood with a shining Veritech Hover Tank in tank mode behind him as if there for a backdrop. Upon its menacing main gun were the red, white, and blue letters painstakingly painted along that long barrel reading, "Patton's Answer." Beside that sat a deep blue AJACS Veritech in helicopter mode with its wing pylons filled with electronics and hard-hitting missiles. The pristine bird gleamed in the daylight as if ready to fly at a moment's notice. Both vehicles showed their share of Zentraedi kill markers.
Off to the side of these two vehicles stood the largest vehicle of the three, completely draped with an enormous camouflage tent. All that polyester and nylon could not conceal a Valkyrie Veritech Fighter in Guardian mode, though the reasons for its concealment had not been spoken by the five ASC destroid pilots huddled protectively and anticipatingly at its feet.
These combat aviators did not seem like they were part of today's gathering, for the five of them wore their standard flight gear. One thing was clear - they were an established unit with obvious camaraderie. They seemed to be waiting for someone. They nodded appreciatively to the colonel whenever the chance came to meet his eye. Upon their uniforms, the motorcycle-riding, leather-clad creature on the patch of the Ghost Riders loomed. One of the five men was tall, tremendously fat, and would have stood out from the rest even if he was not, so strange were his mannerisms.
As Colonel Sharp stood looking every bit his name in his medal-bedecked battle dress uniform, he looked out past his own staff to the young military soldiers who stood before him. About twenty young soldiers, dressed in their best battle dress uniforms, stood either by themselves or in small clusters like teenagers in a high school gymnasium. He saw a variety of expressions in each of their faces, from the pink-haired young woman to the gigantically-muscled tanker who stood out like a MAC II among destroids.
To Colonel Sharp, they represented the future - Earth's future. Whether they succeeded here or not, he hoped they would live on to shape humanity's future in ways that he could only dream about. He hoped they would come together and make something new that had never before happened in the history of his beloved Army.
It was the reason they were here after all.
Not two weeks ago, each of them had received, delivered in person from a high-ranking Eglin major, a formal verbal invitation by none other than the commander of Eglin ASC base, Brigadier General George Steele. The top secret invitation explained that a special opportunity was now available to the invitee in recognition for exceptionally high standards, educational achievements, and recommendations. The invitation was explicit - interested parties were to arrive here in full battle dress uniform at this precise date and time. To even be tardy was grounds for exclusion. In other words, no excuses. Either show up at or before 12:00 p.m. noon or do not bother showing up.
But the message was clear enough; this was the kind of opportunity that most hard-working ASC recruits dreamed of. Back in the 20th century, tenacious, clean-nosed pilots like those of the SR-71 Blackbird received invitations like this. If they did not show, they had no idea what they were missing out on. But if they did show and if they did qualify, it could well be a career-changing, life-changing event. The average received no such distinctions.
In the crowd of recruits, Toph Kirin and Elinor Hall stood together. On their way here, they had both seen the Eglin ASC Fire Department pulling onto the grounds of the T.A.S.C. officers quarters where they lived. When they looked back at the building, black smoke could be seen rising ominously. A few young women were outside their dorms in a total panic. Despite the scene, neither T.A.S.C. pilot could consider going back to their quarters lest they be tardy and disqualified. It was likely a great comfort to know that the Eglin ASC Fire Department was considered the best military fire department in all of Florida.
Recruit Mario Zuko stood alone in the crowd for the moment. While there were T.A.S.C. pilots assembled here, he did not see Shirley Mackenzie among them. He did however know the colonel. And the colonel knew him. How was a mystery but still their first meeting was undeniable. It was likely an odd feeling to be in such a position where the only person you really felt you knew was the commanding officer of this unusual event.
Recruit Hercules Papadopolis also did not see anyone he recognized, but one thing was sure - every soldier here was cut from the same cloth - every person here had worked so very hard to get here, sacrificed the good times spent by many, many other people of around the same age.
Down the runway at a casual speed came a M-770 Staff Hovercar with Eglin markings. While many heads turned at its arrival, Colonel Sharp seemed to watch the vehicle with special interest and a small, hopeful smile. As it came to a stop, two ASC military officers stepped out of the front of the vehicle and courteously opened the back doors for their passengers. Their apparently civilian passengers.
Out of the car came an Asian woman of exceptional grace and beauty dressed in formal attire that made her look every bit the professional doctor with a sense of style all the way down to her white vest and skirt. With black hair tied into an intricate bun, she possessed the kind of beauteous face and eyes that artists created from their dreams. More than one man present, young or otherwise, turned and looked. And kept looking.
One of Sharp's officers went to the trunk of the car and pulled forth an ordinary wheelchair that looked as if it had come from the Eglin medical center. Into this, the youngest person present slipped from the back seat into this chair with practice. He had sharp-looking short black hair and he wore blue corduroy jeans and a bright white shirt with the NASA logo on it where the words, "I Need My Space" blazed proudly. The Asian lady and he chatted briefly. He seemed to be agreeing to her request to push his chair.
At that point, one of Colonel Sharp's staff approached waving his hand in a discreet but disapproving fashion. "Excuse me, ma'am. This is a top secret meeting. Minors are not allowed." She did not answer him but instead she looked back toward the staff car.
A large round man emerged with tremendous presence, great white hair, and a long beard that carried well with the late morning breeze. He wore a long-sleeved, deep blue suit and tie and appeared every bit the professional. There was a steeliness in his eyes as he replied to the officer. "If he goes, I go."
"That won't be necessary." Colonel Sharp moved away from his position and left his assembly to meet the fellow (it was his assembly after all). "Lieutenant, these are my guests. All of them." Sharp's lieutenant grinned wordlessly and nodded in understanding and relief. The large civilian and the colonel moved toward each other meeting in the middle of their crossed distances. There was a great gladness shared between the two as they shook hands like old friends do.
"Albert! Damned glad to finally see you!"
"Hiram! Looking good, old boy!"
Together, they chatted with great fondness while 'Arthur' introduced his two friends. The four of them slowly made their way to the assembly.
The time was 11:50 a.m. The time for roll call would be very soon. This gave the special newcomers a chance to do as they would.
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