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Leg 24a Rorotonga NCRG -> NCAT - >The Secret. Leg 1 of 2

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Wherupon Coffee recovered, and reveals the plot.

 As you know if you have already read Pat Moran's mission report, the ATWC baton, my BAC-111, and yours truly have just been rescued by my old friend who, as it turns out, has a chequered past not even I was aware of until just a couple days ago. My pal, cargo hauler company mentor, and long time flying buddy Pat Moran is the lineal eldest descendant/heir and great great grandson of Sherlock Holmes' nemesis, and criminal organization THRUSH founder: the notorious Sebastian Moran. Pat, the current heir of Sebastian is also the current head of that organization his Great Great Grandfather founded...no wonder he always had so many cool aircraft and 'connections' at his disposal. THRUSH, and their arch rivals UNCLE had morphed over the decades...flipped in sense. UNCLE is still a supposedly government agency that coordinates Law Enforcement activities around the world, but was long ago infiltrated by agents working for covert alien agendas, while THRUSH is still nominally a criminal organization that finances itself through shady underworld business dealings and illicit cargo ops, (Pat and THRUSH's real reason for encouraging so many start up Air Hauler companies...so they can haul THRUSH supplies for them)... however it is secretly working behind the scenes to save the planet from those same aliens. The two agencies are still mortal adversaries, but with switched agendas since their founders conceived them...but...wait. This goes way back further than anyone could imagine and I am getting ahead of a narrative already revealed in part by Pat's Pre-De-Briefing, albeit posted at my request. If you are not sitting down already gentle reader I caution you to take the simple precaution of finding a secure seat before continuing what I am about to reveal to your, no doubt sceptical sensibilities.... you see, space aliens crash landed on our planet in the time of the ancient Greeks and humans have been knowingly and mostly unknowingly fighting them ever since. In fact the vast majority of humanity has been aiding in the battle against these invaders without any awareness that we have been vital organs of the Army for Humanity...literally the Army's Stomachs.



We even joke about it these days when anyone comes close to the truth..."Our Squidly Overlords...hahahaha", because the reality of who they really are is too incredible to swallow, so we eat them like animals, and assume that their squishy otherworldly deliciousness is Natural somehow, not an unnaturally delightful alien delicacy we eat to preserve our species sovereignty. Dear gentle ladies and gentlemen, and pilots..., I regret to inform you that we are, and have been for thousands of years,  in a life and death struggle with squids from space. Go ahead and laugh, however I have over the last few days been their prisoner, held in a secret base that has been hidden from detection for centuries by electromagnetic field warping technology. There I was tortured for what seems like days on end without pause...I have no actual recollection of how many days and hours  (Pat claims that it was two and a half days...ouch!) I have just this morning revived in a Tahiti hospital, patched up after my torture, debriefed by THRUSH...and am now ready to relay to you my extraordinary tale.


This is my report of my part in THRUSH Operation: "The Baton Death Macchi"...and of how the ATWC Baton Challenge inadvertently helped to destroy one of the Squid Invader's most important bases. Most of the thanks goes to Pat Moran and the THRUSH organization who dedicate their lives to this mission...and as it transpires, some small credit due to my big mouth plus a Yuge fat dose of shear dumb luck of which I am sometimes blessed, and cursed.


You may recall recently I had made some 'jokes' regarding some 'oddities' spotted on Google Map Satellite view, which I made a screenshot of, and posted in response to a UFO thread started by a semi-frequenter here on the Mutley board ... who shall be referred to, appropriately as it transpires, as UncleM... The topic thread included a video of a Naval fighter jet attempting to close with and make contact with a UFO, an unidentified Tic Tac shaped craft according to the pilot's in cockpit voice recordings, a craft which flew with unnatural abilities beyond our currently understood physics. Typically, as happens to most UFO topic threads on the internet the thread quickly divided into the "I am skeptical but Believe on some level" and the "Hogwash, complete balderdash" camps...and then rapidly devolved into a guess fest of wild UFO theories including some tongue in cheek 'joke guesses' by myself which theoretically countered Uncle M's generally pollyannaish theory;  "Should aliens advanced enough to travel between stars ever visit us they would be benevolent due to their Advancement which would have transcended petty competitions, rivalries, passions, lust for power, and crime...". (Note-I used the crossed out font form because that theory of U.M's is complete crap as you shall soon see...).


So I found a blip on the google satellite map off the coast of Ensenada Mexico that resembled close enough the shape and position of the Tic Tac UFO ship mentioned in the linked article from the thread, and shared the joke speculating (facetiously) that the shape was either a UFO base or a crashed UFO ship...you may also recall that shortly after this another board member, a notoriously occasionally contentious and sometimes abruptly cranky member,  took the opportunity to verbally accuse the not so hapless UncleM of all manner of disingenuity, shoddy balderdash, bad reportage/weak journalistic standards/etc, etc, etc...he attacked Uncle M and caused the thread to lock/disappear completely to preserve the board peace...this as it transpired was not what it seemed on face at the time... as Pat's briefing revealed...


In which History and Monstrous Myths are re-cooked to our Horror, and epicurean delight:

Most of the following is pieced together based on comments from the aliens I encountered, and/or revealed in my THRUSH debriefing.


Life in our galaxy is actually ubiquitous, one can't skip a stone across any planet firmly within a sun's "Goldilock zone" without inconveniencing at least some form of life. Also, all life is created approximately equal...it begins as slime mold, goop, simple algaes, or some such unexciting lump of biological material similar to those shown just below...






Statistically the Slime stage is the stage where most life forms remain in the galaxy. Evolution is a funny thing, it isn't Fated to happen, it doesn't Just happen,  it has no Direction nor any long range plans. So long as a life form is getting along fine with little or no survival pressure they don't change much. Let me repeat that: when there is no Pressure to Evolve, there is little or no Evolution. All that happens is just the random mutations that occur in any DNA-like based life form (they all are..that is how life works) caused by radiation, cosmic rays, chemical imbalances, whatever...but which rarely affect species wide change on Slime Planets because there is no Advantage to the mutations when Everyone is doing fine without that mutation already.



Like our Sharks for example; at the top of our ocean's food chain for millennia, not changing significantly in design for millions of years due to their near perfect design for their role, which continues to successfully do the job: catch and eat seafood. Evolutionary pressure is slight on them because they still catch and eat seafood, and breed successfully.


In most solar systems the normal star formation process leaves a disk of planets in tidy nearly circular orbits surrounding the new sun. The planet disks are most often Centered or very very close to the center of a sun's ecliptic...ie...seasons are mild if they change at all, and weather is pretty dull on most. Stable circular orbits with tiny or no moons don't stir up planet cores much with the result that geological activity is slight with not much plate techtonics...ie...one would think these would be idyllic planets for life, gentle and serene dull dull boring planets, ironically those peaceful climates are exactly what Evolution shuns. To recap, in Most solar systems life stops at Slime...95% of the life forms in the galaxy are Slime or Goop.


Variety is the SPICE of life: Never have truer words been uttered.


These peaceful planets result in a severe Lack of Evolutionary pressure and the life forms mud'le and squish along oblivious to the possibility of "Advanced Evolution" simply because they remain simple forms of life converting chemicals to chemicals, and everyone is happy and fed and multiplying successfully. No worries = no evolutions.



On the other side of the spectrum are the systems with violent worlds:



Even in the Life Possible zones in solar systems on planets which have severe weather and seasons due to highly off centered ecliptics, highly elongated orbits, with planets that roll around on their sides like our Neptune... or with multiple star systems with violent radiation or which eject planets from their orbits entirely due to the complex gravity dance the suns are doing leaving no stable path for planets to circle any of them at their Golden zones...LIFE happens, but in these solar systems life has an extremely challenging and/or impossible chance of becoming firmly established, and rarely last long when they do establish. Even if some life manages to cling to a rock for a time to keep up with the violence of their planet, all of these worlds experience frequent and extreme mass extinction events that prevent the possibility of ever developing brains let alone legs or fins. 


And then, some where narrowly in the middle are "Adequate for evolution" planets

These planets and systems have significant but not Violent climate variation, only somewhat off center ecliptics, mostly but not perfectly rounded orbits, and just enough climate/geologic stability combined with periods of semi-dramatic changes to cause evolutionary pressure that Advances simple life to more complex life forms, without being battered to oblivion/extinction every few generations and losing any evolutionary gains made.


...planets like ours that have wildly variable life forms ever ready to challenge each other and other species for an advantage with each new environmental change, which occur not so frequently but regularly enough on the geologic timescale to separate and challenge populations already established, but no massive upheavals on the biological time scale... allowing the establishment of species which live for hundreds or thousands of generations of lineage allowing a chance for random lucky mutations to confer random slight competitive advantages, allowing the slow force of Evolution to pit those random mutations against each other over the competitive generations of descendents Naturally Selecting for the best, or luckiest...


...and among the class of Adequete for Life Worlds, there are planets like the one which used to be the home to a people who call themselves Kraken, which fell on the spectrum somewhere between Dull slime mold weather, and our Semi-Exciting seasonal climates.


The Kraken planet circled a sun that burned 30% hotter than ours, the planet was composed of 94% ocean with just a few scattered islands poking out of it amounting to less than 3% of the surface, the remaining few percentile composed of the tiny polar ice which capped this quite warm planet. It had seasons, waves, and tides thanks to a tiny moon about the same mass as Mars' 2 moons combined, but all these effects were very mild.  And though there was some evolutionary pressure, it was also quite moderate...the 'Who can swim faster', rather than the 'who can solve this radical new survival problem' kind of evolution. As such, life forms never evolved beyond the invertebrate stage. Spines and exoskeletons never evolved on the Kraken home planet...it was a vast ocean of drifting, flapping, and jetting around soft bodied animals, with squids and octopi as the most advanced life forms...everything eating each other, and themselves...an essentially care free planet that only gradually evolved brains, brains which then gradually formed societies, which became rapidly Selfish...which then rapidly caused the next wave of evolutionary pressure that either uplifts and ennobles the very few Great Species who rise and advance beyond Greed to really Survive Long Term in our galaxy achieving True Wisdom/Advancement. Much much more commonly the Greed pressure causes species to destroy themselves... the rapidly evolving social evolutionary pressures caused by Greed and Competition is the planet killer of most "semi-advanced" species. Greed regrettably causes Social Evolution much faster than Physical and Mental evolution can keep up, and competition based on "Self Interest to Excess" almost always results in a planet whose civilizations are easily splintered into factions/tribes/monarchies/nations/pods/whatever form of "Nationalism/Divisiveness" the leaders of greedy creatures adopt to manipulate neighbors to fight each other, to enrich the victors at the expense of their neighbors across artificial borders, or even within their own borders...greed has no loyalty. The Kraken succumbed to Greed as most species do...they warred, fought, and battled each other constantly for millions of years. They exploited deep sea heat vents to power their cities, they created advanced hyper-sonic weaponry that turned their target's soft forms into loose jelly, slaughtering each other in an attempt to rule each other...and like any selfish institution will, they drilled and drilled and drilled for more and more thermal power and riches to gain advantage over their rivals, until they over extracted the heat from their planet's small core. Thus began a severe Climate Change event which became irreversible, their polar caps grew exponentially, their sea levels sank, the land masses just below he surface rose revealing shallow archipelagos which cut off whole cities and even divided whole national/tribal boundaries, which of course only increased the degree of "separatism and divisiveness" that rampaged through their societies, and all of which compounded till the point at which the entire planet finally woke up from their denial of what they were doing to their now cold as hell planet. Almost like a group mind one day (over a year rather) they all came  to the common realization that they would all perish in a frozen solid ocean unless they found a way to escape or fix their planet. A great age of Astronomy and Alternate (to oceanic) Sciences ensued...the first time such things had even been contemplated as their greatest thinkers overcame their aerogaphora (fear of the waterless regions) and contemplated the nature of the mysterious waterless voids above them which they formerly had no interest in, and actually quite a good deal of terror of, it being a deathly environment to them (one brutal way they murdered their rivals was to hold them above the water till they desiccated and died while blubbering insanely as their minds failed them out of water) not just because of it's waterlessness, but also due to the planet not being surrounded by what we call Van Allen belts thanks to its small weak iron core and lack of a large moon/hence weak magnetic fields...their oceans gave them protection from solar and interstellar radiation, the air above the water was thick with it. Incredibly the Kraken people only discovered The Universe shortly before their planet was about to die...they waved their petty rivalries to the side, and cooperated as they had never done before once they realized there might be "somewhere else to go". They launched test reaction rocket after rocket (they learned to split water into hydrogen and oxygen first to power their early rocketry attempts, then learned to make chemical based fuels...) till they finally managed to lift a squid into space and return it alive... if completely insane after the mind altering trip into the most terrifying waterless void any squid could imagine. A huge milestone for the Kraken, after which they learned to build ships without windows to keep their pilots sane, and they collected massive asteroids from around their solar system, hollowing them out and fashioning great space aquariums from them...Colony Ships designed to cross the waterless voids of the Black Place of Tiny Lights, in the hopes of finding another tiny light, with another great ocean encircling it...this new one they swore they would cherish and love and protect, unlike their home ocean which they casually took for granted and exploited till they completely failed it...and it failed them.

When Squids Flew to the stars



The mighty 2 mile oblong asteroids, hundreds of them, were filled with melted ice-comet material, and stocked with the food and life forms of their seas. As soon as they filled each of the ships to capacity it immediately set forth on their great journeys into the utter unknown. They had no "Likely Targets" as they were far to new to the field of Astronomy to learn how to separate the spectrum of light and discern the chemicals of the far suns...or their masses, let alone the finesse to spot if any had planets that could support life. They one by one blasted away from their doomed freezing planet in all directions aimed at random points of light. Just as squids reproduce by blowing seed and eggs wiley niley into the tides to make their own fortunes or fail, so did the squid people scatter to the stars, most, naaah... why dip it into a sweet buttery coating... nearly all failed and died out in the blackness of space, or, in the best cases horrible as they were, a few ships crashed on slime covered planets completely unsuitable and poisonous to squids, being based on different chemistries the slime was innedible, the squids couldn't feed on it, the squid's food couldn't feed on it, there was no food...they died. A few other great ships crashed on rocky worlds with no life nor seas at all, all of those perished on useless to them planets with no chance to try again...the odds were just too long for any to have a real chance to survive. The saddest part of this exodus was that they had such a short time to learn what they needed to Navigate to a star. Being so new to astronomy, just a generation before they started building rockets, just 2 before they built the first colony ship...that they had no idea the stars were orbiting a Galaxy, by the time most ships reached the positions in the galaxy they had aimed for, the stars had moved far out of the way in their paths around the galaxy. Only Dumb Luck would save a single aquarium ship which had aimed at a star moving up through the galactic plane in the same direction as the Squid home planet above it, so that when the Squids aimed down towards it, it was coming closer to the squids, they in fact arrived about 50 years early to the star due to this fact, a narrow margin that may have saved their lives. Nearly dead with it's systems on the verge of failure, it's inhabitants had devolved in a savage cannibalistic hellish existence of survive or be eaten for the many hundreds of years their crossing required...this is the great ship which crashed into the relatively cold seas of the Mediterranean on our planet Earth during the early neolithic period, in the time of the Greek Kings Perseus and Cepheus. No longer inhabited by great squid scientists, artists, leaders, and intellectuals who had managed to build star ships in just two generations, but instead occupied by the  descendents of those brave desperate ship builders who had to make a radical but logical choice once they realized their environment was too small to support all the colonists...these earliest generations of descendents faced enormous physical and social evolutionary pressures caused by surviving against all odds in such an isolated and tiny environment, something their species had Never experienced in all its slow evolutionary history...they barely resembled the massive intellects who learned space travel in two generations...they had been forced by survival to use their biological and genetic prowess early on to transform themselves. Squids, mutated their own genetics and those of their Octopi companions. The descendants of the creators of this ship no longer had intelligence until they attained physical maturity, this allowed the mature squids to more easily consume the vast numbers of youngsters still produced by "blowing seed into the waters". The only source of food for the Squids and their remaining octopi companions became...the squids and octopi themselves after so many generations in space in their tiny rock bound life pool...all the other food sources had been depleted. A consequence of this developmental adjustment was that it reduced the maximum intellectual level Adult Squids could achieve...once measuring up to the mid 200's, Squid intellects plummeted to mere low 100's...120 IQ being considered a Squid Genius of the highest order. Only the most brutally ruthless among them survived the trip and then only thanks to their earlier biological science prowess allowing them to genetically mutate themselves to survive in their own shit and eat only their own flesh, and remain stupid and oblivious food-animals while still in "immature stages"...this is why squids even today practice and enjoy cannibalism...sickening to us, but it became an integral part of their culture of survival. Indeed they survived against all odds, one of the Galaxy's few actual successful "colony ship" star crossings since the Galaxy had formed, and that in total desperation...these changed kraken-forms, crossers of stars, survivors of space hell, and one of the luckiest species ever to escape a planet whilst being so utterly unprepared for the journey, today are the squids we know and love with butter and breading. They are, most of them, the stupid mindless animal like children of the Giant Squid Adult form of the alien species inhabiting our planet's deep seas...their only natural enemies? Nearly everything in the sea and on the land. The Mindful adult squids in fact even still love to eat their neighbor's mindless children, or thats what they tell themselves, no squid knows who it's parents are, nor who its own children are, there are no Family Ties in the squid social fabric....there is no way there could be given how they reproduce. 



Cetus was the name  of the king of the newly arrived squids. In a ploy to manipulate compliance from the dominant but still primitive Hominids that ruled this planet...Cetus kidnapped a Greek maiden playing at the seashore, daughter of one of the Great Greek kings Cepheus,  and then attempted to barter a deal with Cepheus to secure her return in exchange for Power and influence...a crude bid to gain some foothold to power on this new planet, but not surprising for a mere 120 IQ space bully...instead, Perseus the founder of Mycenae, bad ass game-hunter and self styled "Monster Hunter" (and wishful suitor of Andromeda), challenged Cetus to a fight knowing if he won he would not only add another monster head to his study, but get Andromeda for his wife, securing the allegiance of Andromeda's father, and secure his own power as a Great Greek King....win win win win win...and win he did. Cetus confidently accepted the challenge by the hominid king assuming that the Kraken were clearly superior beings compared to the savage spear waving Greeks, and was surprisingly but quite easily defeated by Perseus. Despite the relative crudity of the ancient Grecian technology of sharp sticks and shields, Perseus soundly defeated and killed the Kraken king and several of his lieutenants who only had their traditional sonic based weapons and their natural strength, which proved weak compared to mammalian/hominid physiology here on Earth. The squid weapons were highly effective against spineless creatures like themselves, but proved useless against anything with a spine, bones, or any solid structures internal or external. Our mammalian anatomy with it's internal boney solid structures neutralized the harmonic frequency based properties of Squid weaponry, the Greeks were completely immune to the squid's Advanced weapons, at worst they caused a tickling sensation when pointed at us, and could even clear blocked sinuses of the "target" aiding them in an odd fashion by helping with their breathing...ie...the completely useless squid tech was no more effective than pointing a seashell at someone and whistling at them.

The ancient Greek people easily drove the not so invading squid people deep into the seas, and instilled deep seated fear, jealousy, and hatred of mankind into their slimey hearts from that day forth...the wannabe conquerors were new to the planet, initially confident in their advanced technology and invincibility, and then made painfully and humiliatingly aware of how perilously vulnerable to us they were when out of their element. In fact even while In their element we were immune to their weapons, our bodies were far stronger than theirs, our ships of the period were invulnerable to all but the largest Kraken (the very largest of whom had just been killed by Perseus), and as our Naval tech increased, even large squid attacks decreased till they became mere Myths in our memories. 

Oh the irony, the sad tragic irony that follows lifeforms as if Murphy's Law was the dominant force acting on Life: A single solitary ship of Krakenforms escaped their doomed nearly frozen planet against all odds, only to arrive at one only marginally warmer than the nearly frozen one they escaped hundreds and hundreds of years ago. On top of that, they arrived to find themselves not an advanced species of awesome conquerors able to claim a primitive planet awaiting their awesomeness, but rather as spineless weak jelly fish on a land dominated planet where even small fish had spines and sharp teeth, where most life forms could easilly best a Squid...even the largest Adult squids were easy meat for this planet's sea monsters, the Whales, porpoise, seals, and the sharks...


This is pretty much what the Kraken felt like they were facing when they found their new sea home... a planet full of sea and land piranhas.


And a shot of their new neighbors who could dive thousands of feet to Greet and Eat them even in their hiding places in the deep sea...


THRUSH calls these fellows Earth's Greatest Heroes...our Front Line against the Adult Squids who take the battle directly to the squids in the depths.


The newly arrived squids became one of the most delicious creatures on their new planet, enjoyed by nearly every sea and land creature, including themselves...gulp...Life can really suck...bottom line.

The Truly Giant Intelligent Adult squids finally permanently retreated to the depths of their new cold sea home and hid out of sight near deep thermal vents, dodging the great whales and struggling to keep warm and alive until they retreated in Human minds to the realm of Myth...then they waited and bided their time...to scheme and plot towards a day when they could manipulate us to kill ourselves, purging the land of their avowed enemy, leaving the unmolested seas to themselves, well, and the sea monsters/whales they would still have to contend with...and they have finally nearly succeeded.

The Kraken people regained some of their intellect over the centuries since Perseus, and reach IQ's of up to 150 these days. They recovered knowledge of their biological technology and use it to create genetic hybrids of our sea creatures and they then manipulate these hybrid creatures as their puppets on land in Human form, using them as covert agent provocateurs. 


Many infiltrate governments in all levels where a lack of spine is commonplace. 


A spineless  squid created SeaTurtle hybrid If I ever saw one. Notoriously ducking into it's shell at a tough question about it's own hypocrisy, he shares the traits common to thousands of years of Squid agents...obsessed with power, burning power sources, enriching centralized monopolistic corporations, creating and continuing polar divisions between citizens, and betraying the interests of his Middle class and poor constituents....a classic Squid agent.


Many also are in industry directly bossing humans into raping their planet, and many have worked throughout the centuries as high ranking members of the major religions

(Most of the Popes and Cardinals of the old Roman Catholic Church were squid agents throughout the centuries).


Note the distinctive Squid-body shape of this famous hat:


You can't convince me that these men aren't at least part squid...sorry catholics...but even the red mantles and skull caps they wore were evocative of Squid body shapes...



The papacy...the perfect place to instill an imperative to "Trust Authority", from a Holy "Infallible" seat where none may question the leader...Squid-Hybrid Popes were able to keep humans subservient to the manipulative Power and Control slowly and covertly imposed on them by the malicious alien invaders, and to influence and make human Kings dependent on Squid Agendas by "anointing" them and securing their cooperation....or losing their monarchies...trapped by their own greed to cooperate with Squid Popes.

All Squid agents are working to make our planet hotter, more toxic for us, and more homelike for them. They have encouraged our Industry from within to progress for hundreds of years, suggested inventions to drive technological progress forward, always seeking to burn, burn, burn...wood, coal, peat, more coal, oil, hydrogen, burn everything!!!...the constant drive by the squid agenda has been to trick us into burning the dirtiest possible fuel for everything possible, even when better cleaner power solutions are available they cling covetously to Dirty Polluting Power, and consequently have driven the planetary temperature up and up, while marshalling counter social forces to deny that it is happening at all...till we eventually destroy the land's ability to support our civilizations, due to droughts and famines, crop destroying storms, killer hurricanes, all while making the seas warmer and friendlier for the Kraken... finally permitting them the long awaited opportunity to take over the planet from a weakened and nearly extinct human species. After we discovered/were guided to rocketry, newly formed contingency plans are now being worked towards, a plan with a great deal of Vengeful irony included; manipulating Us into escaping entirely from a Too Warm planet destroyed by our industry and Climate Change. Some factions of the squids hope to force us to attempt leaving Our planet, soon overly warm for us but perfect to the Squids, and forcing us into the Bitter Blackness of the Tiny Lights to suffer the same fate as the ancient squid star crossers...Sinister and brilliant...a very very long con nearly at fruition.





Upon which we restart the ATWC leg, and encounter the nature of reality:

Joe met me in the airport lounge shortly after his arrival, he knows me well and had the Mutley Credit card out ready to cover my bar tab. I had seen a fancy Phenom arrive and was almost certain it must be our Mutley Boss Man coming with the baton as promised. One never knows what an ATWC pilot might show up in, so I was on the lookout for anything unusual, and not many corporate jets that swanky drop into NCRG, certainly none this week, cept for that one purple CRJ that popped in for a refuel the other day...and of course my fairly unusually Coffee Cargo liveried BAC-111 last week which has, as Joe mentioned, attracted a Lot of attention from looky-loos and camera bearing types. I had come also with a tiny tour buggy packed inside the 111, my favorite personal plane a BD-5j I call Little Bean. Little Bean dismantles enough to fit in a roadable trailer, so getting it into the 111 cargo plane was tricky but doable. I would have to load Little Bean up again soon now because Joe's arrival meant the last few days of joy flying around the islands here had officially come to a close. I had a baton to deliver. Joe is hella busy with lots of work projects going on, so he was anxious to head right out after pitching in and covering this leg for a member out on medical/family leave. I treated him to lunch (on the credit card he just handed me...), and then saw him back down to the ramp where we admired his svelt gray Phenom for a minute. I gave him a brief tour of my BAC One Eleven, showed him the new high tech pass code encrypted storage safe I have built into the BAC 's custom galley area. It is something I have installed for sensitive courier documents/precious cargos/recreational marijuana whilst overseas for the crew/customs avoidance ("The customer has the pass code, I have no access to the safe sir..."). I received a thumbs up from Joe for the security precaution given how much attention has been paid to the baton recently by Putinfeld, and we lock the baton securely inside. Then he was off to the fuel station in the Phenom, filing his flight plan, and soon on his way back to civilization and Mutley Board Business.

Meanwhile, I contacted the ground crew who had assisted with the original unloading of Little Bean. They were tasked with tow tugging the 111 over to a maintenance hangar to prep for loading, after which a fuel truck was scheduled to gas her up to ready us for our short couple of legs to NTAA.  As they are heading over to the BAC, I go burn off the last of the gas in the BD tanks, well...some of it...not planning a dead stick landing of course. I can certainly haul it with full wing tanks but prefer the ease of disassembling and storing lighter wings....as well as an excuse for a last jaunt around Rorotonga in Little Bean.


I think i see those odd sorts Joe mentioned hanging around my 111 as I taxi out, I agree they shouldn't be on the ramps, but appear to be fairly stereotypical tourist types, if a bit oddly out of shape, Americans no doubt...ah well, once or twice around the island then to burn off a bit of fuel and enjoy a last look at this lovely vacation spot, by then the 111 should be ready to load up the BD.

My 111 and Little Bean sharing a parking spot.

It is a gorgeous morning to to say "so long" to this lovely island from the air.




Rarotonga is the most heavily populated and one of the most popular tourist destinations of the Cook Islands. It's average population is between 10,000 to 14,000 natives and residents.



There are 14 islands in the nearby island group. NCRG being the main portal, sees a good bit of medium to large airliners bringing tourism to the island group. Interisland travel centers on NCRG, with many commuter hops to the nearby group members.


Runway 8 is a favorite spot for aircraft buffs to get close to views of landing airliners, with roadways located very close to the landing strip it affords a terrific spot to get up close images of landing planes and dramatic shots. Air New Zealand is the most frequently seen of the major airlines here with the majority of the market share.



I will surely miss flying around this lovely island group...untill the next time I visit :) 


Regretfully, and feeling duty bound, I bring my "Little Bean" back to NCRG early so that I can begin the disassembly myself, and hasten loading into the 111, to get the baton moving.

Pulling up to the maintenance hangar early, something is clearly amiss, the 111 is starting to roll with lights on...Out of the Hangar. It also looks like I had arrived just in time to prevent a fuel truck, which should Not even be here yet, from hooking up to it. What the F is going on? Also, something looks funny about the pilots, and those fuel guys, hmmmm...aren't they those tourists I saw earlier.


Apparently when they spotted me taxing up I interrupted whatever they were up to, and now they are attempting a plane theft before I arrive to shut them down....



They keep rolling, and I have to dash to the side of the ramp to avoid them... 


My One Eleven is being stolen right before my eyes and there is nothing I can do about it...and the baton is on board

The Mutley crew is going to murder me if I allow the batan to be stolen....and Joe will probably mount my head on a pike at the entrance to the ATWC section as a warning to future pilots.


All I can do is follow in disbelief as my 111 relentlessly taxis away, they never even contact ATC...



I sit stunned at the hold point as my stolen aircraft heads for the turnaround, considering my very limited options.


I have to try something! I decide to attempt a desperate game of chicken to try to halt the 111 by using tiny Little Bean to block it's path...I place the tiny body of my BD in the path of the 111 and advance on it.


The radio crackles to life with NCRG ATC yelling at the both of us wondering what is going on on their runway.



I try to glare the One Eleven thieves down, but it's not their plane, and I see them give it the gas and head straight at me...shit...Note to self, BD5's are not intimidating to BAC One Elevens.


I swerve out of the way, and careen back to the center, better a live chicken then dead hero...a live chicken can at least maybe give chase...nonsense, I dont have the range or speed of the 111, how can I possibly follow it?



But wait, the 111 has nearly empty tanks, I interrupted the fuel  truck. If I recall correctly there can't be more than 200 miles of range in the tanks, there is only one place they can reach from here...NCAT. With half tanks still on board my BD, I have just about enough fuel for that jump even at full throttle ...I have no choice, I have to follow them at least to NCAT. My 111 has a locator transponder aboard, I can track it for a while using my sat phone connection to my networked android nav pad, but my range will be very limited from the BD...if they get much more than 40 miles away, I will lose signal. I follow now, or I lose the baton and my plane and the ATWC is dead...shit shit shit...


I give it the gas too, and the chase is on.




I notice something odd right off the bat...for some reason the the thieves stick Very close to the sea...to avoid radar presumably, and they keep the gear down...not sure why they leave the gear down, but it is the only break I have as the drag will slow them and give me a chance to keep up, barely...


(Pat's note addendum:...The squids are genetically and spiritually absolutely terrified to fly. It is completely counter to millions of years of their aquatic existence. Air is as insubstantial as empty space to them and the Vertigo they experience whilst surrounded by Air is existentially crippling to their mental abilities...only the most stalwart Squids are able to manage prolonged Non-Wet activities of more than an hour. These are the squids we find staffing Human/Squid co-sites and bases, and apparently the pair who stole Coffee's plane must have been of that sturdy type. This is the reason why UNCLE squid transports don't have windows in the center. Nevertheless, the pair who stole the 111 no doubt had to be cannibalized after they landed the 111...their mental state would have been unrecoverable after flying for an hour or more through no-water while looking out of windows...in their sheer terror they could not even bring themselves to fly higher than about 50-100 feet above the surface of the water, and even left the gear down assuming they would fall at any moment. Not realizing gear down would only worsen a fall or crash into the water speaks to their rapidly failing mental state. To maintain a tenuous grip on their sanity they flew with the windows open and a couple tentacles outside the cockpit so they could feel the air pressure and reassure themselves there was actually a substance they were flying through. Nevertheless, despite probably gracing the table of their compatriots as Main Course, they were no doubt toasted and eaten as True Heros being the only squids to ever fly an airplane....an incredible accomplishment when you think about it. )


Regarding catching the slow One Eleven...not a chance, I can't catch up, I am slower still by a significant bit, and they are still pulling well ahead of me, which means they are really giving it the throttle and wasting the gas (Pat's note...they wanted out of the air as soon as possible) for sure NCAT will have to be a refuel stop for them.



I continue to NCAT and hope for the best.


I can't spot the 111 down there, either they skipped it or I just missed it.


On final, hope I can get some news about the 111 here.



I arrived at NCAT behind the baton, but not by much...minutes at most, I of course have to refuel by now as well and am told by the fuel crew that the 111 took on less than 500 gallons of gas which is all they could squeeze out of their small supply here at this little field. No they never spoke to or saw the pilots and could provide no descriptions, everything was arranged by radio they said, and the pilots claimed it was an emergency so they gave them all the jet fuel they had on hand.

This means that the 111 will be limited to a short 400 mile or so range, maybe less if they Full Throttle like they were doing before...within the max that the BD can fly if I can fill her up, but no chance of coming back if I go that far. Desperate, I beg...Please, do you have any more jet gas anywhere? They remember that they have some jumbo jerry cans of JP-4 they keep on hand for a turbine powered emergency generator, and after some palm greaning plus a liberal Mutley Credit card payment, they run for it, and we throw a very expensive 30 gallons into the BD on top of the 2 gallons left, she only holds 36 total, nearly full.


And by now I can just barely make out the 111 blip on the my tracker, their bearing is  47 degrees and moving away fast...38 miles, 39...gone... ,


There is nothing in that direction, just a few tiny atolls with no landing strips at bearing 65ish... but they are heading north of those... where the hell can they be going if not to ditch the plane? There must be something out there, and I intend to get my plane back dammit.

A desperate gamble, I fly off into the unknown following the last bearing of a just faded blip. Bearing-47 degrees here I come, hell or high water. I dial the heading into my custom Autopilot and tear after my airplane...and the baton.




I must be crazy, how important is this baton that I'm risking my life for it on this crazy chase? I should have just called the authorities and let them chase these theieves down.

All there is out here is just more blue and thickening weather...god, where did they go?
I am just at half tank level now...it's point of no return decision time...I keep going.


The weather is looking very strange up ahead:


There is a bank of thick fog or mist ahead, I have to hold course...my autopilot, cleaving to bearing 47 degrees this whole time, keeps me level in lieu of an ADI on Little Bean while I punch through this deep and weirdly luminous mist totally blind and trusting Otto. 



Suddenly the weather clears, like POOF...gone. And just ahead is a strange double line of rocks on one side of a main island. ...a small uncharted archipelago in the middle of nowhere!


How did this place escape notice by satellites? This island is not on any chart I have ever seen. If the 111 isn't here, at least I will have rocks to cling to while awaiting rescue...I consider pulling out my sat phone and calling Pat Moran right now to have him send the coast guard or navy to this location, but a glance at my GPS shows that it can't lock to a GPS satellite...I do not know my actual location, just an approximate time out (3.5 hours), speed (325mph), and heading (47 degrees from NCAT)...I don't have a weather report handy and don't know the wind speeds and direction...ie...these are really crappy directions :( . I have to see what I am getting into, and what I am sending someone into, before I try to establish a sat phone call.

I am low on fuel, one way or another I am heading in there, to land or ditch.


There is definitely something here. I spot structures on the rocks...some kind of strange retro-tech with what looks like old tesla generator wands sticking out of them.



Holy crap...those structures are laser defense systems, they flash out and rip through my Little Bean's engine, narrowly missing the cockpit and my head. With a bright flash and a shuddering BANG important bits of the tiny engine spit out the back and I lose all propulsion, generator, and the battery...a ditching it will be apparently. I'm thankful that been is a straight forward basic stick and wire controled aircraft, even without engine or electrical power, I can still control her to the water and safely ditch...and I don't need to lower the gear. Good bye Little Bean, regretfully it is time for you to have a long cold brew in this dark water below.


As I bob in the water clinging to my Bean's seat cushion, my last gambit is to hit the big red button on my waterproof Satellite phone and contact Pat Moran, praying that it will be able to make a Satellite Connection when my GPS couldn't.  I am not sure if any Coast Guard or navy can deal with whatever is going on here, so if anyone can help it is Moran, or rather someone he probably can't admit he knows. He thankfully picks right up (...is this a normal Sat phone? It picked up a Satellite Comm link very very fast.) and I cut off his cheery greeting of "What a surprise...heya little buddy..." yelling *As calmly as possible* that a small yacht tender is racing towards me from what looks like a Secret Base from a James Bond movie, and *as calmly as I can manage* I describe the two giant squids who seem to be driving the boat...so...for the love of God i conclude...GET ME THE 'F' OUT OF HERE PAT!!! AIEEEEEEE (I did say *as calmly as possible*, that shriek was as calm as was possible under the circumstances). I just had time to respond to his fast and very direct questions...my position/ bearing and approximate time out of NCAT, and I remembered to  give him my contact/login info at the Mutley board in order to inform the ATWC officers of the predicament me and the baton were in...and request their prayers. Then the bow wave of now upon me squid boat knocked me akimbo and the Sat phone knocked out of my hand and sank below, then slimy sucker lined horrifying tentacles pulled me up and into the yacht tender.


To make 64 hours as short as possible,  I was dragged into a hangar area where I briefly saw numerous squid crawling over my BAC-111. I was yanked roughly up a long flight of stairs, hauled into a windowless dirt floored and stone walled chamber, thrown into then strapped to a massive oaken chair, and there, while awaiting a Rescue I wasn't sure would arrive, I was tortured by a phalanx of giant squids...

They grilled me about where I got my intelligence (Uhh...I think I was born that way, and maybe also reading lots of books?)

Oh a wise guy huh? SMACK, ...ZZZZZSTT!!! 

"Who else did I knew who was aware of the squid forces" (Dudes, I am not actually aware of you...wtf are you creatures?)

"ZzZzZsstTTTTTT...BANG BANG CRACK....LIAR, we will get the truth from you...

"Who I was talking to about the squids (I don't talk to people about squid unless we are eating calamari or watching Discovery channel!)

"Wrong answer human, very wrong answer...Only WE Kraken have the sacred right to eat Calamari!!!" BAM BAM BAM BAM BANG BANG BANG ZZZZZzzzzZZZZZzzzzzTTTtttTTttttTTTT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT OUCHHHH!!!

"How long have I known about them (all of about 1 hour now and counting...where the hell am i?)

"We ask the questions ape boy" BAM  PoW ZzZzTsttTt.


What other bases did I have knowledge of? (Travis, Vandenburg, Beale, Castle...)

..trying to be a smart guy again huh?!"  "BAM BAngPoW SPLAT ZzZzZzZzTzstststtTTTt OUCHHHH!!!

What is the pass code to the safe on the plane? (Only the customer has the code, I don't have access to the safe sir!).

"Shit...oh well, the russian troll can get the blue thing out himself when he arrives". BAM BAng PoW ZzZzZzZzTzstststtTTTt

...what other bases do you know of? (Indian Springs, McChord, Ft. Lewis...) BAM BAng PoW ZzZzZzZzTzstststtTTTt


I learned fairly quickly into the multi-day session that squids like to start the pain slowly and ramp it up...and also that they aren't terribly bright on average, making them very easily enraged by smart ass answers and easily goaded into Sucker Punching me (took that phrase to a whole new level huh?). Thanks to their weak jelly like physical forms those sucker punches tended to injure the heck out of the torturers, far more than they hurt me...leading to a new one taking it's place. This resulted in little breaks for me...whenever the pain got too intense I'd crack a joke or insult them somehow, and I would find myself with a sore jaw and a brand new torturer starting over again...


"ah...merely light pain...thank you so much, good to go for another hour, how many squids do you have lined up to torture me by the way?" Smart ass! SPLAT OUCHHHH!!!  Dammit Krog, you only just started...NEXT KRAKEN GET IN HERE!

Leather, waterboard, repeat...for 2 and a half days.

What I gleaned from my torture session based on their line of questioning, allowed me to piece together why they are questioning me. It is because some of the jokes I made on the Mutley board regarding some Tic Tac shaped blob on the ocean floor i spotted on Google Maps. It turned out in fact to be an oblong alien base on the ocean floor...how shitty of a great guess was that huh? Anyhow...essentially that is the whole reason I am sitting strapped to this my-blood stained oaken chair getting slapped in the face and chest by wet clammy Squid tentacles in between Tool times...because I made a lucky guess in a joke that ended up way too close to the truth. They stole my plane thinking I had intel in the safe along with the wand and they wished to barter the wand to a russian agent of UNCLE's aquanteince, whom they claimed would pay very very well for it. They had planned to kidnap me as well as the plane by hiding aboard, then ambushing me while on my ATWC legs and forcing me to fly them to their base. But I foiled their plans by arriving too early and forced their tentacles, so to speak. When a squid fails a mission they are executed and eaten...so they had no choice but to steal the plane and it's tricky safe, and hope to get me later....failure was not an option. That I followed them and found my way to the base was like a gift to them actually...did I mention that my luck is equally as bad as it is good?


Electroprods, Sticks to foot arches, thumbscrews, waterboarding, bamboo under the nails, a couple burns here and there, broken fingers and toes, a few delicate patches of skin removed, hair pulled achingly slowly follicle by follicle from all parts of my body...they took a tooth out very very slowly even. I got the full E-ticket ride those couple of days plus a bit more...I don't think they missed a trick on me. I was thankful however that rumors of aliens doing anal probes was either a gross wishful exaggeration by closeted conspiracy theorists, or not These particular Alien's bag. I wasn't there long enough really for sleep deprivation to be used against me effectively, thankfully, I doooo love my 8 hours of beauty sleep every 72 hours or so...but even so, all the times I passed out surely would have borked their sleep deprivation plans if they had any...I am thankfully a wimp regarding pain. I only held up to the questionioning without cracking because I didn't frankly have a clue what the hell they wanted from me for much of the time, and when I finally pieced together why they were torturing me I had no useful information regarding "my Alien intel" because I had none...I had cracked a joke that ended up true, and they would never believe that...I wouldn't believe it, frankly I can't blame them a bit for not believing me. For some reason they really didn't seem interested in the only information they could have tortured from me, the pass codes to the 111 safe...I was amazed they didn't pursue that line of questioning further after my obvious lie...so clearly these Alien Squids were Not after the baton for themselves nor particularly interested in it at all, but for a Russian connection they hinted at...Putinfeld maybe? Is Putinfeld in an unholy alliance with Alien Squids? Is that Ekronoplan outside the base one of Putinfeld's resources? If I get out of this, I'm sure J.G. will be very very interested in this Russin and possible Putinfeld development...a scourge to nations and a planet now...Putinfeld must die I vow if he is in bed with squids.
I pass out completely at this point, any further moments of consciousness are merely filled with screaming from here on out and devoid of other content really, and thus ends my narrative till Pat Moran arrives.

See Leg 24b for Pat's narrative of my rescue if you haven't read it already...his adventure begins where mine fades into the red and blackness of senseless pointless endless pain.


Whereupon Coffee packs up the tale.

Upon awakening in a Tahiti hospital ward, Pat Moran is at my bedside with a bottle of Rum "Rise and shine Sunshine, have a shot of courage, you'll need it, you have a debriefing to attend" 
After leaving the hospital, Pat Moran and a couple other high ranking THRUSH officers; a historian for the group, and one of their cadet instructors, debriefed me and filled me in on the THRUSH mission that saved my ass from the squids....as well as filling in the blanks about the Squid history I hadn't already pieced together. MOST Humans are not ready to come to grips with Squids being Alien Intelligent lifeforms, so I am directed to go ahead and tell the story as accurately as possible, as the truth would sound the most 'un-credible' to a population that wears Welcome Squidly Overlord t-shirts. THRUSH is used to humanity denying the squids even when told about their existence...they aren't really worried anyone will actually believe this story....I trust that my wild tale and Pat's incredibly unlikely rescue narrative sound like complete fiction.


am now, by default, inducted as a member of THRUSH, it's newest 2nd Lieutenant. Everyone who first hand learns of the Squids and survives must join THRUSH, or UNCLE if on the other side...or die with the knowledge, I wisely decide to accept the recruitment offer.

I return to my distinctive liveried BAC-111 still where Pat parked her guarded by THRUSH agents while I was in hospital, and I recover the unmolested baton from it's secure encrypted safe entering the secure combination; 1.1.1. (Why make things complicated when you really just want a secure but quick joint?)

I tremble a bit in fear now and then, knowing that unless we eliminated every squid with knowledge of My knowledge of them, very unlikely...I am a marked pilot for the rest of my possibly short life and will be checking over my shoulder for UNCLE and Squid agents everywhere. My former life as a happy go very lucky adventure and cargo pilot is gone forever. I don't share the luxury that Pat and "Tit" enjoy as unknown covert THRUSH agents...the Squids know me now...gulp...I am the Poster Boy on "Hominid Wanted Posters" on the walls of every squid base by now....a tickle runs up the back of my spine as I walk away from the One Eleven....and then a second one up my neck, and my sinuses strangely clear up a little bit.




I head to the lounge to find if Mike has arrived yet in order to hand over the ATWC baton.  I Hope to hand over the baton in short order, as I have a desire to crawl into a hole somewhere high on the flanks of a very tall mountain for a while, to get as far from the water as I can. I muse on how I will never be able to eat calamari without the knowledge that I am helping humanity by doing so. As I have learned we all do in THRUSH,  I reaffirm our solemn vow to consume Calamari as often as possible, in my case with a "Literal Vengeance" as I rub my still sore sucker punched jaw and dedicate it to the task of chewing through as many aliens as I can stomach...a  covert mission I shall relish breaded with butter and chips, fried, baked, and grilled. I wonder if they serve any at the airport lounge...im feeling a bit peckish actually. I hope Mike likes calamari....lets all do our very best to try to keep these juveniles from ever maturing into the intelligent beings they have the potential to become.




2nd Lietenant 'Capt' Coffee.
THRUSH - Pacific unit



The bump under the sea about 50 miles off of the coast of Ensenada was destroyed by THRUSH using Resource # TN-234 shortly after the "Tic Tac" spotted above it was chased by the Navy F-14...in case you were wondering. THRUSH monitors all agencies who study UFO reports, even covert and secret agencies, as well as all News reports of strange phenomena, as well as Conspiracy Theorist videos and web blogs..any UFO sighting could potentially lead to a Squid base, and THRUSH will be there to destroy them when they are legit sightings.



Edited by Captain Coffee

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Well what can I say? Confused am I?

I think that with over 9800 words you could have told the whole story of the challenge Coff!

An epic account well done!


Off to part b... Oh no. I've done that one!

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I shall never look at calamari in the same way again!


Know thy enemy has been replaced by eat thy enemy!

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5 hours ago, J G said:



Know thy enemy has been replaced by eat thy enemy!


"Eat your enemy, Know your enemy" A kraken saying since even before they migrated to earth...are you sure you aren't THRUSH J.G.???

Edited by Captain Coffee

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7 hours ago, mutley said:

Well what can I say? Confused am I?

I think that with over 9800 words you could have told the whole story of the challenge Coff!

An epic account well done!


Off to part b... Oh no. I've done that one!




9800...whoa, I wasn't counting, just noticing how late the clock was reading the last week. :blink2:

Just trying to loosen up wannabee novel-knuckles over here Joe...thanks for hosting a creative place to dump amateur practice attempts, while having a literal Photoshop blast doing it.

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I had hoped this ended by you waking up from a coma, after hitting your head due to a slip on your dock and saying, "Glad that was only a dream".:P 


My eyes glazed over a bit during parts but I'm glad you had fun and it was a rockin' PIREP for sure.:thum:



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To maintain a tenuous grip on their sanity they flew with the windows open and a couple tentacles outside the cockpit so they could feel the air pressure and reassure themselves there was actually a substance they were flying through. Nevertheless, despite probably gracing the table of their compatriots as Main Course, they were no doubt toasted and eaten as True Heros being the only squids to ever fly an airplane....an incredible accomplishment when you think about it. )


I'm not sure i will ever look at Calamari in the same way again..

That was an epic leg..[still shaking my head with incredulity!]



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I have no words, great pirep! This ATWC has raised the bar, maybe Joe will be able to publish a book with all these adventures! ^_^

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