When the Gods Aren't Gods: Book Two of The Theogony by Chris Kennedy Page B
Authors: Chris Kennedy
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selected for inclusion into the squadron. A nation may nominate up to three. After each presentation, the board will make a secret vote and give the candidate a confidence level score between one and 10 on whether or not he or she thinks that candidate would be a good choice for inclusion. After all of the pilots have been voted on, we will narrow the results down and then determine who will be selected. Then we will do the same for the weapon systems officers and then the members of the platoon. Any questions?”
The Russian representative raised his hand again. “Will we be determining the crew of the space ship today, as well?” Calvin shook his head. He had heard that there was an effort among some of the nations to rename the Vella Gulf to something more representative of the planet in general, not just one nation. By addressing it as ‘the space ship’ rather than by its name, obviously the Russians were behind it. Really? Didn’t they have better things to worry about?
“The manning of the Vella Gulf will be decided at a meeting next week,” replied the chairman. “Any other questions?” Seeing none, he looked at the U.S. Air Force General sitting at the opposite end of the table from Calvin. “General Simon, would you please brief your first candidate?”
General Simon smiled as the first U.S. candidate, a navy lieutenant, appeared on the screen. “I’d be happy to,” he replied. “Our first candidate is Lieutenant John Turner. Lieutenant Turner is a veteran of our last war and our ‘Top Gun’ fighter weapons school...”
Terran Space Force HQ, Moon Base Alpha, Dark Side of the Moon, April 15, 2020
“How bad was it?” asked Calvin as Night and Bullseye walked into his office. Although space was at a premium in the lunar habitat, Calvin had staked out a small cubicle to hang his space suit, flight gear and other personal paraphernalia. It had a desk and a file cabinet and two chairs for guests. Calvin felt so cramped in the office most days that it felt like he had to go outside just to change his mind. He couldn’t wait to move back aboard the Vella Gulf . He had a much larger space there that he would previously have only considered to be ‘minimal.’ It now seemed palatial in comparison.
“It was as brutal as we thought it would be,” replied Night, who attended the entire selection process that filled out the ranks of Space Fighter Squadron One and the first platoon of what the leaders had decided to call the ‘Terran Space Marines.’ As the purpose of the platoon was to attack a nation from its base onboard a ship, Calvin could understand the analog of using the wet-navy Marine Corps. Calvin had to leave the selection board after the first day for consultation meetings with several of the national leaders. “About the only thing that they agreed upon without too much argument was to let the countries that lost platoon members fill their spots. That was one of the first things discussed; after that it got hard.” He looked at Bullseye.
“We ended up with the 16 crews that we wanted,” Bullseye reported. “In addition to the Nigerians that you already kn ow about, we got two Russians, two Indians, a Ukrainian, a Spaniard, a Kiwi, a Turk, a Saudi, an Israeli and a female French pilot that I already caught Lieutenant Simpson trying to stake a claim to.” He shook his head. “If she wants to steal secrets, there’s probably going to be a line forming to give them to her.”
“Good thing we don’t have any secrets then, huh?” asked Calvin.
“Yeah, pretty much,” agreed Bullseye, “but don’t tell her that. I’ve probably got a secret or two of my own that I need to share.” He winked. “In any event, we have a wealth of experience in a wide variety of aircraft types. The Russians and Ukrainians only nominated fighter pilots, but some of the other countries nominated helo pilots and a number of different types of weapon systems officers. Overall, I think we
The Russian representative raised his hand again. “Will we be determining the crew of the space ship today, as well?” Calvin shook his head. He had heard that there was an effort among some of the nations to rename the Vella Gulf to something more representative of the planet in general, not just one nation. By addressing it as ‘the space ship’ rather than by its name, obviously the Russians were behind it. Really? Didn’t they have better things to worry about?
“The manning of the Vella Gulf will be decided at a meeting next week,” replied the chairman. “Any other questions?” Seeing none, he looked at the U.S. Air Force General sitting at the opposite end of the table from Calvin. “General Simon, would you please brief your first candidate?”
General Simon smiled as the first U.S. candidate, a navy lieutenant, appeared on the screen. “I’d be happy to,” he replied. “Our first candidate is Lieutenant John Turner. Lieutenant Turner is a veteran of our last war and our ‘Top Gun’ fighter weapons school...”
Terran Space Force HQ, Moon Base Alpha, Dark Side of the Moon, April 15, 2020
“How bad was it?” asked Calvin as Night and Bullseye walked into his office. Although space was at a premium in the lunar habitat, Calvin had staked out a small cubicle to hang his space suit, flight gear and other personal paraphernalia. It had a desk and a file cabinet and two chairs for guests. Calvin felt so cramped in the office most days that it felt like he had to go outside just to change his mind. He couldn’t wait to move back aboard the Vella Gulf . He had a much larger space there that he would previously have only considered to be ‘minimal.’ It now seemed palatial in comparison.
“It was as brutal as we thought it would be,” replied Night, who attended the entire selection process that filled out the ranks of Space Fighter Squadron One and the first platoon of what the leaders had decided to call the ‘Terran Space Marines.’ As the purpose of the platoon was to attack a nation from its base onboard a ship, Calvin could understand the analog of using the wet-navy Marine Corps. Calvin had to leave the selection board after the first day for consultation meetings with several of the national leaders. “About the only thing that they agreed upon without too much argument was to let the countries that lost platoon members fill their spots. That was one of the first things discussed; after that it got hard.” He looked at Bullseye.
“We ended up with the 16 crews that we wanted,” Bullseye reported. “In addition to the Nigerians that you already kn ow about, we got two Russians, two Indians, a Ukrainian, a Spaniard, a Kiwi, a Turk, a Saudi, an Israeli and a female French pilot that I already caught Lieutenant Simpson trying to stake a claim to.” He shook his head. “If she wants to steal secrets, there’s probably going to be a line forming to give them to her.”
“Good thing we don’t have any secrets then, huh?” asked Calvin.
“Yeah, pretty much,” agreed Bullseye, “but don’t tell her that. I’ve probably got a secret or two of my own that I need to share.” He winked. “In any event, we have a wealth of experience in a wide variety of aircraft types. The Russians and Ukrainians only nominated fighter pilots, but some of the other countries nominated helo pilots and a number of different types of weapon systems officers. Overall, I think we
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