Message-ID: <17637eli$9811300428@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "NavigatorLS" Subject: {ASSM} Genesis [Scifi, sociocultural satire] (16/100) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: "NavigatorLS" MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <000101be1bd0$4994f940$8edf1ac4@ala.icon.co.za> Disclaimer and Copyright Notice: This story is intended to be viewed by adult audiences who are over the age of 21 years and who wish to view explicit and/or alternative modes or forms of sexuality or sexual activity detailed and described. If this does NOT describe you or if this kind of material is illegal in your jurisdiction or offensive to you, then DO NOT READ FURTHER AND DELETE THE CONTENTS OF THIS MESSAGE immediately. You have been warned ! If you continue to read further you do so at your own risk and the author will not be liable for any damage you or anyone else may sustain arising out of your reading or use of this message in any way whatsoever in contravention of any criminal or civil laws, regulations, judicial precedents, or ordinances in any jurisdiction on planet earth. The contents of this communication may be freely distributed and archived by alt.sex.stories.moderated without the permission of the author. It may also be freely distributed by others and placed on non-commercial web-pages, subject to the authors written permission and the limits of use imposed therein. Save for the aforegoing limited right of distribution and archiving, copyright will continue to subsist in the contents of this story/message, and the authors rights in respect of copyright law are strictly and expressly reserved. This story/message may not be sold, or placed on a commercial site, nor on a site for which a person has to pay to gain access. All of this is subject to the condition that this story may not be distributed, archived, placed on a web-page or in any way or manner disseminated, displayed in/on or stored in any data storage device or form of communication/media in an incomplete or altered manner, save for reasonable grammatical changes and changes of format, or without this disclaimer and copyright notice being prominently displayed as part of this communication. It is expressly forbidden to use or communicate this message in a manner which would intentionally contravene the terms of the Disclaimer. Copyright © (1998) JL Abrahamsohn Chapter 9: Day +4; Liberation; 25 000 feet above a classified military location in rural Wyoming, USA; 3h32. The Aztec Class Temporal Assault Pod "FZZ 324-56" materialised out of the temporal ether, "blinking" into existence in the dark inky sky above the low cloud cover which blanketed rural Wyoming. The bright starlight from the sharp pinpricks of stars in the sky over Wyoming was absorbed into the craft giving off no reflection to signal its existence to the naked human eye. The cloaking device worked perfectly rendering the assault pod invisible to sight. The US military satellites and ground based sensor arrays failed to pick up its appearance as the cloaking facilities of the assault pod easily foiled their early 21st century primitive sensor technology. The cyborg marine piloting the craft used his mind to stabilise the juddering assault platform as it exited from temporal limbo. The calculations had been exact and the pilot could see that his craft had materialised directly over the target LZ. The topographical maps blipping into his mind from the assault platform’s scanner sweeps unfolded in his mind. He could see the strange structure in perfect detail, his mind scanning out the blizzard that was howling below. His mind quickly routed these images to the assault "stick" in the platform. In a microsecond he dropped his craft straight down feeding the information to the assault team ensconced silently in the body of the vehicle. The details of the alarms, structures, surrounding countryside, lifeforms present, defences, weapons systems scrolled within microseconds through the assault team’s minds as they readied their weapons for the assault. Not a word was spoken. All that could be heard was the low sussuration and hum of the servo-mechanics of the pod. Cyborgs, particularly Temporal Assault Marines, the elite shock troops of the Lord’s Army are not given to small talk or idle chit-chat, in any event. Dropping through the dense cloud layer they entered the belly of the snowstorm. Their powerful craft did not feel the storm’s fury at all as it fell like a platinum raindrop down, down, down towards the target zone. Twenty metres above the strange squat bunker the craft eased to a silent halt. The hatches swung open and the assault team dropped out into the white maelstrom of the blizzard, gliding along beamed trajectory rails, dropping silently onto and around the bunker. All alarms and weapons were quietly and efficiently dismantled and an equally silent breach was made in the hardened bunker entrances. The two US Airforce men in the bunker never saw the transparent beam weapons that cut them down. The cyborg marines de-cloaked as the androids entered the bunker, their forms identical to the assassinated US officers. Thermal incinerators were used to turn the bodies of the deceased occupants of the ICBM silo into microscopic ashes, as the androids took their places, picking up smoothly where they had left off. Within seconds the marines had re-embarked on the assault platform, which wasted no time in silently speeding to its next objective. The blizzard continued to howl for two days. The deadly assault had lasted 3.34 minutes from the moment of the emergence of the assault platform from the temporal ether. End of Part 16 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----