Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

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mpsoldier
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by mpsoldier »

I kind of figured...my only experience with the name "Malak" is from the Knights of the old republic star wars game; Darth Malak. Not a nice guy, and pretty vengeful. Sounds like the Admiral. Lately I have been reading the story on my phone; on a small screen. But when I looked it up on the computer I was really blown away. The small screen does not do your modeling justice. Your work is true art. Kind of unexpected for a Kaiju project; but true nonetheless.

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Ashram52
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by Ashram52 »

I’ll let you in on a little secret MP, a certain Godzilla fanfiction writer is a big fan of the Kotor games too. ;)

Malek is name that those ‘in-the-know’ will get certain connotations from. Kotor 1&2 were both fantastic story-driven games. While my Malek is certainly no angel, he’s not quite a Sith Lord. Just morally grey…. Well, maybe a little bit dark side. :lol:

Yeah, I think jumping to color will help folks enjoy the miniature modeling more, and will force me to up my game a bit too. There are certain things you can hide with black and white photos. I don’t have that option anymore.
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mpsoldier
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by mpsoldier »

I'm not so sure the color is always the better choice. We're still in the 50's...ish...Era. So black and White is still an option. Sometimes the lack of color is an effective way to evoke an Era or feeling. Also during an emergency (and every Kaiju near a city is a massive emergency) the power is often the first thing to go. So darkness makes alot of sense. And I could be wrong on this point but isn't the MUTOS powers based off emitting Electro magnetic pulses? Lights out there. Godzilla, Destroyah and a bunch of others are also nuclear based so one can imagine their abilities to also mess up simple electronics. Rodan is generally more magma sort of a monster, but a single fly over by him would rip out half the power lines in a city. Even today alot of power lines are above ground. Back then it would be even worse. And hey, Spielberg went black and white for Scheindelers list. And that really worked for him. It can really be used to emotional effect.

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Ashram52
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by Ashram52 »

I think for certain scenes I’ll still use black and white for dramatic effect. (In fact, already have one specific scene in mind) but for the most part, we’ve graduated into color. Any black and white shots will be for dramatic effect, kind of the way I did the opposite with color before.

However, at this time, there is a much bigger issue I think everyone should be aware of. The USB I’m keeping alllll…. of the Tactical Assault notes on stopped working last night. So, I may have lost access to nearly all of my story notes for future chapters.

The only notes I have left at this moment are the ones for the present chapter I’m working on, and the next one after that. Everything beyond, which represents perhaps hundreds of pages notes, are potentially lost. If that is the case, I don’t think I will continue the story. It would be too much of a setback to come back from. I’ve had so many setbacks already, I don’t think I could deal with one quite this bad. I can’t imagine having to start over from scratch. :(

Why are all of my notes on a USB you might ask? Well, some here might remember my last computer crashing on me before. I managed to transfer everything to this USB before that happened. Ironically, I was going to make a copy onto my new lab top the very day the USB a stopped working properly. :|

I’m going to try to take the USB drive to a local shop today to see if the information can be salvaged, but if it cannot be, I’m probably just going to finish the last two chapters I have notes on and then just scrap the rest of the project.
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mpsoldier
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by mpsoldier »

That would be a tragedy. But despite the lost notes the ideas all came from you anyway. So it shouldn't be too hard to piece it together from memory, and a few changes often is a good thing. But it's your project and your call. Thanks for keeping us all entertained and our brains working for so long!

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CommanderPhoenix
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by CommanderPhoenix »

Oh no! Man, I hope you're able to get it working. It would SUCK to have this cut short by technical failure.

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Ashram52
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by Ashram52 »



Ok, so here’s a brief little State of the Union:

To use a little analogy: If my story represented the Klingon Empire from Star Trek VI, then Praxis (the story’s main source of energy production) just blew up into a billion pieces. And so the empire (story) has roughly 2 chapters of life left in it. Now in the movie, the Klingons had to accept help from the Federation and make peace with them.

Me though, I haven’t got a clue how I want to proceed. I’ve talked to a number of IT folks and the issue with my thumb drive is not a simple fix. I’ve tried all sorts of shit to get it working again. No dice. It is possible to recover the data if I send it out to professionals, but it would cost anywhere for $30-$800 to fix. If it was around thirty, it might be worth the cash, but possibly eight hundred? No fuc#king way. I still have two ‘potential’ options to investigate, but those aren’t looking so good either.

In the mean time, here’s what I can guarantee: First, I will complete two more chapters for sure. Second, I’ll continue to see if there’s a way to cheaply and easily recover my notes while I’m working on those chapters. If anyone reading this knows how to take apart a thumb and repair them, reach out to me if you can help. It’s far beyond my own technical skills and I’m nearly out of options.

In the mean time, I’ll think about what I want to do going forward if my notes are gone for good. I certainly do remember the broad strokes of the story, but so very many of the fine details are gone forever. It was years worth of data. :dizzy:
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mpsoldier
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by mpsoldier »

Well I've often found with writing that especially with the longer pieces like this is that time makes the work better. When you first think up your story, you've got the idea, the concept, and you know where you want it to go. But as you progress and you reread and grow in writing and personal experience you get better. The story gets fleshed out with new ideas and concepts. It still ends up where you want it to, but the path grows stronger and more beautiful. Often times you find better ways to do or say things, or you come up with new ideas, and it sort of snowballs. The loss may actually be a good thing,

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Ashram52
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by Ashram52 »



Chapter 30: Signs of Life?

Marcus landed his helicopter back on the Essex. Inside of the cabin, it was dead quiet. The marines had never been so silent. Everyone was reflecting on their experiences during the mission, chief of which was apparent suicide of Dr. Serizawa. His death rendered all of their fighting and personal sacrifices pointless. The mission was a failure and morale was low.

As the helicopter settled on the fight deck and the blades stopped, the marines slowly disembarked. They were worn out and beaten up. Brock still had his makeshift bandage over his shoulder wound instead of a clean and proper dressing. While he was still climbing out of his seat, one of the deck officers immediately came up to him to collect the notes he had recovered from Dr. Serizawa’s lab. As soon as the officer had them in hand, he notified Brock and Marucs that Admiral Malek wanted to see them immediately. His tone suggested that they were in for it. Clearly the admiral wasn’t pleased with the mission’s outcome. The other marines were listening and looked on sympathetically towards Marcus and Brock. The pair were on their own, however. The responsibility was theirs alone.

The deck officer whisked the notes away quickly and left Brock and Marcus in the company of a pair of marines as escorts. Having no other alternative, they followed the marine guards. They were taken to Admiral Malek’s personal quarters where he was impatiently awaiting their arrival. When they entered, Malek was sitting behind his desk with a disappointed frown on his brow reading through an after-action report. He looked up. Marcus and Brock did their best to stand at attention in front of him. Malek was quite for a moment, studying the pair. Marcus was sweating it out, waiting for the admiral to explode at any moment. Brock was playing it cool though. On the surface, he seemed entirely unmoved.

“What went wrong out there gentlemen?” Admrial Malek asked, setting down the report. “As I understand it, you had it in the bag and then tripped at the finish line. Why would you let Dr. Serizawa wander around all on his own after securing him?”

“Well sir, the fact of the matter is he actually ran away during a firefight.” Brock answered.

“I’m not talking about that, and you know it.” Malek responded sharply.

“It’s not the sergeant’s fault sir, it’s mine.” Marcus spoke up. “I didn’t expect Dr. Serizawa to do what he did. After all he’d been through, I didn’t see the harm in letting him have a moment to himself.”

“You do now though, don’t you?” Malek pointed out irritably, not trying to hide his disappointment. “I can not even begin to tell you what a game changer that weapon would be if we had it at our disposal. You both saw firsthand what it did to that monster in the bay. Imagine the next Godzilla that comes along; it could have been eliminated within mere minutes of it rearing its ugly head. The lives we could have saved. That possibility is now in jeopardy because of your carelessness.”

“Maybe if we knew something ahead of time sir.” Brock interjected defiantly. “The briefing didn’t mention anything about the Doctor having a death wish. This was presented as a simple rescue mission. If we knew more up front, we could have taken precautions.”

“From this moment onwards, consider yourself busted down to corporal sergeant.” Malek barked angrily, finally boiling over. “I will not tolerate your insubordination.”

“Sir, I think he only meant…” Marcus began to protest on Brock’s behalf.

“Don’t defend him, there’s no future in it.” Malek warned crossly, cutting Marcus off. Marcus knew well enough to shut up after that.

“Be careful sir, I have a very fragile constitution.” Brock retorted. “I’m delicate like a flower.” He drew Malek’s attention back to himself.

“Oh, you think you’re a comedian now? One more comment and I’ll bust you down to private.” Malek cautioned Brock with a scowl. Brock finally got the good sense to shut up too. Just then, there was knock on Malek’s door. “Not now damnit!” He bellowed at the doorway.

“But sir, you said you wanted to know immediately when I had an update for you.” The muffled reply of one of Malek’s underlings came in from the other side of the door.

“Very well, enter…” Malek relented.

An Ensign came in and went around the admiral’s desk to whisper something into his ear. Admiral Malek sat back in his chair listening intently. Marcus could see that the ensign was holding the notes Brock had collected from the Red Bamboo. They were partially sticking out of a folder he was holding under his arm. Whatever he was telling Malek, it seemed to cool his temper. He didn’t quite smile, but his grimace lessened some. Once he was done, Malek waved off the ensign, dismissing him.

“Losing Dr. Serizawa is a major setback, but not all is lost it seems, the notes you did recover from the fire give us something to work with.” The admiral seemed to relax, sitting back. “Once we get them into the right hands, we’ll have a better understanding of what we got. Dr. Orsini has reviewed them, and he thinks what is in here is very promising.” He bobbed back and forth in his chair once. “Thanks to you Marcus, our long-range fighter is pursuing that Red Bamboo transport plane even as we speak. It should lead us right to the next Red Bamboo base. We may be able to obtain even more information about the Oxygen Destroyer there.”

“Sir…?” Marcus began to ask.

“Yes, that is the name of the weapon.” Malek said, anticipating his question. “You’re still busted to corporal.” He pointed to Brock firmly. “Now both of you get out, you’re dismissed.”



“You know that weapon he wants so badly Marcus…?” Brock asked as they got out of earshot down the hallway from Malek’s quarters. “Well he’s going to get it, farrrrr... up his ass.” He growled, motioning with his hand upward in a vulgar and graphic fashion. Having heard that, Marcus decided to steer them towards the flightdeck so that Brock could blow off some steam in the cool air.

“That could have gone better…” Marcus noted with a deep sigh, mostly ignoring Brock’s insinuation.

"You know what your problem is Marcus?” Brock asked rhetorically, pausing only briefly before going on. “You’re the type of guy who’s always looking for approval. You want or need a mentor to look up to. Always needing to please your superiors, even when they’re a piece of shit like Admiral Malek. You could have stood your ground in here instead of just taking your lashes. What was he going to do, discharge you from the service? You keep saying all you want to do is get back to your family now. That there was an opportunity. What would a dishonorable discharge really do to you? With your wife’s family connections, they could probably make that stain on your record disappear, and if not, they will always have a job waiting for you in any case. You’ll never have to sweat that dishonor being on a job application. You’re pretty much set for life as soon as you make it back to the world.”

“You know, I think you’re right, I am always looking for someone to stand in a mentor role.” Marcus agreed calmly, which seemed to take Brock by surprise. “I suppose I do latch onto older more experienced soldiers to fill the void my father left. I guess that’s just my way of compensating. It’s always been like that for me, as far back as I can remember. I’ve had to learn so many life lessons from teachers, coaches, and even from you on occasion Brock.” Marcus smirked over at him. “So yeah, you have me pegged there. That’s good insight.”

Brock just looked back at Marcus thoughtfully. The last thing he expected was for Marcus to agree with him.

“You know the last memory I have of my father?” Marcus asked. “It was the time he taught me how to sail. It was the last thing he ever got to teach me. He gave me my love for the water, and it has stuck with me ever since. It is one of the few things I remember about him. But it was so long ago now that it almost feels like something I dreamt up.”

“Why do you always got to ruin the moment?” Brock asked annoyed, walking off and leaving Marcus alone. Marcus smirked to himself. He knew Brock didn’t like talking about personal feelings. It was the perfect way to disarm him.

As Brock left, three marines happened to be walking by and gave Marcus kind of an odd look. There was a subtle distain in it. Marcus couldn’t discern whether it was just the typical level of animosity marines held for navy fly boys or if there was something deeper behind it. Marcus suddenly got very worried that word had gotten out about the prior mission and the truth about the demise of Lennox’s squad. In the chaos of the last couple of days, Marcus had almost let it slip his mind. His anxiety and insecurities about the incident were starting to build. It might have just been paranoia, but Marcus felt like a lot of the men around him were staring in his direction. A hand touched Marcus’ shoulder from behind, which made him jump a little.

“Woah, easy there buddy.” Joe said, taken aback by Marcus’ seemingly out of place skittishness. “You may need to hit the showers and get some bunk time Marcus. You look like hell warmed over.”

“I’ve had a long week, that’s all.” Marcus replied dismissively. Joe was acting very casual. If he knew anything that had went on during the Matango mission, he sure wasn’t letting on. “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Joe smiled reassuringly. “The other guys might give you a little shit, but I know you’re still a good soldier. Maybe you need to switch to decaffeinated coffee though.” He quipped. Marcus just stared at him for a moment with a blank face.

“To be a good soldier you fundamentally have to be able to do two things Joe: Kill and be comfortable with the fact that you can die at any moment.” Marcus replied coldly. “I’m not comfortable with either of those things. So, I guess I’m not actually a good soldier.”

“What’s eating you?” Joe asked. “I’m just messing around. The mission must have been pretty rough, huh?”

“Yeah, you might say that.” Marcus replied. “I’m starting to think you were right with your decision to stick to the deck guns.” He noted. “Never go on an away mission if you can help it. Stay on the ship.”

“Alright.” Joe answered. “I think I can do that.” He gave Marcus an odd look. Usually, he wasn’t so serious. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Marcus replied. “I just need some rest like you said. I’ll talk to you later Joe. Thanks.” He turned away from Joe, letting him know the conversation was over.

Joe shrugged and walked away, leaving Marcus to look out over the ocean by himself. The calmness on the surface of the water was deceptive, much like Marcus himself. There was so much more going on beneath his facade. Marcus’ eyes turned to the clouds. The sunny day was slowly turning overcast. Before long, there were just patches of blue-sky peeking through here and there, which allowed only a few strands of golden sunlight to get through. As Marcus watched, one of the rays quickly blinked out and then back in as though something had passed by very rapidly. Another spot of sunlight blinked in and out and Marcus realized something very big was moving above the clouds. It was heading right towards them.

A jolt of panic shot through Marcus. He had no idea was coming for them and there was no time to alert anyone before it would be upon them. He looked up to an empty area of sky that was nearly straight above the Essex. In a flash, a dark figure was there and then gone again. The silhouette was moving so quickly that it barely registered. However, the figure was there just long enough for Marcus to recognize what it was. There was no doubt in his mind, it was Mothra. He was sure of it. Marcus’ anxiety started to bleed away from him. His chest lightened and his vigor was renewed. It felt as though Mothra’s light was filling him up as it had done before. His fears and doubts evaporated. The there was a big unanswered question though: What was Mothra doing there?

Marcus soon realized that no one else was reacting to Mothra’s presence. Stranger still, there were no alarms going off anywhere in the fleet. Surely, they would have detected Mothra’s approach on radar scrambled some jets to intercept her? She had passed over the fleet close enough to where she should have been noticed, but everyone was still going about business as usual. Marcus looked to the radar dish on the carrier’s island. It was rotating in its usual pattern. They did not appear to be having technical difficulties. Marcus considered the possibility that maybe someone higher up just didn’t see Mothra as a threat anymore, but that couldn’t be right. Even if by some miracle they did feel that way, they couldn’t have been able to identify her just based on a radar signature. The technology simply wasn’t advanced enough to single out targets like that yet.

Marcus decided to go up to the bridge to speak with the radar officer. When he inquired if the operators had picked up anything unusual within the last couple of minutes, the officer had no idea what Marcus was talking about. Nothing whatsoever had registered on their instruments since the Essex’s fighters had returned from the mission earlier. Marcus couldn’t believe his ears. How could that be possible? There was no way they could miss something that big. He couldn’t have imagined seeing Mothra, could he? Marcus had been under a lot of stress. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him? Regardless of it being a hallucination or not, Marcus still felt much better than he had before.



Thirty minutes later, Marcus found himself in the shower washing away the sweat and grime he’d built up over the course of the day, most of it still hanging over from the mission. Brock came in and took the stall adjacent to Marcus to clean up himself up too. Brock had been to sick bay and gotten some proper treatment to his arm wound. The doctor wanted to keep Brock there for a day for observation, but he wasn’t having any of that. Brock simply taped a plastic bag around the bandage to avoid getting it wet. Nothing was going to keep him from a hot shower. He needed to wash away the filth of defeat, as well as the physical blood and dirt from his skin.

“You’re a poor judge of character Marcus, those new boys were just fine.” Brock noted while hitting his arm pits with soap.

“I suppose you’re right.” Marcus admitted, spitting some water at the wall. “I guess I just let the pressure get to me. That’s all.” He said coolly.

“I lost one of them out there you know.” Brock remarked. “Damn kid was too eager. The line between bravery and stupidity is sometimes a thin one. You seem to be feeling better though. A little water really all it took?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Marcus replied, not wanting to talk about his episode involving Mothra. Imaged or otherwise, there were too many other guys hanging about the shower room. They wouldn’t simply understand. Roger, who had recently been promoted to squadron leader came in to shower next to Marcus on the other side.

“Hey Marcus.” Roger greeted him warmly. “Well… hello corporal.” He said to Brock in an embellished voice with a shit eating grin. Apparently bad news traveled fast on the Essex.

Marcus stopped washing his chest and looked over to Brock to gauge his reaction. Roger may have just poked the bear a little too hard at a bad time. Brock looked over to Roger with a grimace and Marcus was worried about what he would do next. Even Roger realized he may have made a mistake. Brock however took the jab in stride and simply gave Roger the finger quietly. Marcus sighed in relief. A shower room brail was not something he was interested in taking part in.

“I’m glad they gave you command of the squadron.” Marcus said to Roger, quickly changing the topic and helping to break the tension. “I didn’t want that kind of responsibility. I think Lieutenant Larson would have wanted it this way.”

“Like hell he would.” Roger replied. “He was always on my ass. Thought I was a little too wild behind the stick. Too reckless.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.” Marcus remarked. “Even so, you’re still the best pilot in the squadron. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Roger replied. “Boy, it sure got sticky out there today. I’m glad I didn’t lose any pilots assaulting those base defenses. Wouldn’t look too good my first day in command. I’m glad you guys are ok too. All joking aside, you guys got a raw deal out there.”

“Thanks for saying.” Brock replied.



An hour later, Ling was reading in his bunk on the Essex when there was a knock at his door.

“Enter.” Ling said invitingly, raising his voice. The door cracked open and in stepped Sargent Brock, the big mean marine who didn’t like him all that much and wasn’t afraid to show it. “What do you want?” Ling asked in utter shock. He tried to mask his unease. Brock just stood there for a moment. Behind him, Marcus was lurking in the doorway. The quarters were a little tight and it was difficult for him to get around Brock’s bulk.

“Hello Ling, Brock had a question for you.” Marcus said, making his way around. Brock gazed back at Marcus with a somewhat betrayed look in his eyes. Ling quickly read the situation and guessed that Brock was expecting Marcus to do all of the talking. Perhaps this was Marcus’ way of forcing Brock to be more social. Brock looked back to Ling with some hesitation, but eventually began to speak.

“So, the thing is, Dr. Serizawa said something to me before he killed himself.” Brock started. “Nobody who was there speaks Japanese, but I remember the words he used.

“And you want me to translate?” Ling astutely concluded.

“Yes, if I don’t know what that man’s last words were, it’s going to eat me up inside.” Brock said clinching his jaw. “He was staring me right in the face when he did it. I need to know why. It’ll drive me crazy otherwise. Would you help me with this?”

“Well… I certainly don’t want to see what you are like when you’ve been driven crazy.” Ling replied calmly, lightening the mood. “Ok, tell me what he said.”

“He said: Jibun no sakuhin wo buki ni suru koto wa yuruse mase ne. gomennasai.” Brock repeated it word for word perfectly, a fact that surprised Marcus a little. The moment really must have been etched into Brock’s memory. Ling thought it over for a moment, to ensure he took in the full meaning, and then got a bit of a sad look in his eye. “Well, do you know what it means?” Brock asked eagerly.

“Yes, yes I do.” Ling confirmed. “He said: I cannot allow my work to be used as a weapon. I’m sorry for everything.” Ling sighed. “That’s pretty much it. He got straight to the point and didn’t mince his words.”

“Wow, you have to respect the principles of the man.” Marcus noted somberly. “The lengths he was willing to go to protecting the sanctity of life.”

“Yeah, and we may have jeopardized his sacrifice.” Brock remarked bitterly. “At this point, it’s unclear what we recovered from his notes, but it may be enough to reproduce the weaponized form of his device. I think I could use a drink…”

“Yeah, we are on a real losing streak lately.” Marcus added. “We just handed the admiral yet another potential super-weapon.”

“I get it now.” Brock said ignoring Marcus. “Dr. Serizawa was aiming to kill himself in the lab with the fire and trying burn his notes too. He wasn’t trying to put out the fire, he started it himself. If only we’d gotten there a few minutes later…” Brock shook his head in shame. "I can always count on myself to fuck up the important things.”

“What’s done is done.” Marcus said. “Dwelling on it isn’t going to help anything now. Thanks Ling, I think we got what we came for.” He noted, starting to leave.

“Yeah, thanks.” Brock muttered as he followed behind Marcus.

“You welcome.” Ling said as they shut the door behind them.

“See, Ling is a good guy.” Marcus remarked. “You should cut him some slack. In fact, you should be more open to new people in general.”

“Says the man who was certain less than twenty-four hours ago that two new marine recruits were going to gun him down on a mission.” Brock countered.

“Point taken.” Marcus replied.



A detachment of the Archimedes fleet sailed into what used-to-be the bay of Red Bamboo’s naval base. Some of the Red Bamboo’s soldiers hadn’t fought to the death in the earlier battle. A number of them had been taken prisoner after the fighting had died down. They were to be loaded up onto the fleet destroyers. It was unclear what their fates would be, as there was no openly declared war between the United States and China. So, they could not simply be considered POWs. There were no Archimedes personal being held by the Red Bamboo to exchange them for either. The Chinese government still had not acknowledged the existence of the Red Bamboo Organization, and therefore, they could be treated as a rogue paramilitary group. Terrorists in essence.

Unfortunately, the captured men had to have been at least vaguely aware of the Oxygen Destroyer Project, and because of that, Marcus did not like their chances with Admiral Malek. He had a history of ruthless aggression when it came to keeping state secrets at the expense of prisoners. His policy was brutal, but effective. With Malek deciding their future, the outlook was bleak for the Red Bamboo prisoners. At a minimum, Marcus figured those men were looking at rotting in a political prison for the next number of years. Though, there time in captivity could be a lot shorter and harsher than that. Marcus didn’t relish the thought. He hoped for the longer and more lenient road. Perhaps if they held onto them long enough, the prisoners could be used as some sort of bargaining chip later. It would simply come down to the Admiral’s perception of their value. Were they worth more dead or alive?

As Marcus watched the destroyers, he couldn’t help but notice that the Essex itself was entering the bay. For what purpose, it was unclear, but he saw Dr. Orsini on the deck with a pile of equipment surrounding him. He just might have an answer about that. Marcus made his way down to him as the ship ventured further and further into the bay.

“What are you up to doctor?” Marcus walked up and asked. “Looks like official business.”

“Oh, the admiral asked me to go down and see if I could find any samples of our recently deceased monster.” Dr. Orsini answered. “He thinks it might help to understand the weapon notes Sargeant Brock recovered. Other folks have collecting water samples, but so far it just looks like water. No traces of the chemical have been found if you can believe that.”

“I actually can’t…” Marcus answered surprised. “Interesting… so it all basically evaporated?”

“Yeah, once it boils its way up to the surface, it just seems to go ‘poof’ without any residue.” Dr. Orsini noted. “By the way, I led Admiral Malek to believe that the notes Brock brought back would be useful for recreating the weapon, and that’s a bit of an exaggeration. There’s not enough information in those notes to recreate the weapon outright, but given enough time, it would give someone a leg up if they did want to try to rebuild the weapon. It at least gives them a starting point to work from. The notes seem to lack one key piece of information, how to chemically create the Mirco-Oxygen. Without that, the weapon will not work. I’m not a chemist though. I’m not one-hundred percent sure what they got there. There are some formulas mentioned, but it could be a complex recipe for chocolate chip cookies for all I know. But I thought telling Malek something positive would help get you guys out of ‘hot water’, so to speak.” He winked.

“Are you kidding?” Marcus asked incredulously, trying to keep his voice down. “You could get in so much trouble for that. Malek is not a man to be toyed with. I don’t think you understand how ruthless he can be.”

“I’m not worried.” Dr. Orsini replied coolly. “I told him from the moment he had me look over that paperwork that I wasn’t an expert. He knew my answer was always going to be vague at best, and not one-hundred percent reliable. I’m simply the only scientist around that he could ask, and I gave him my opinion. The notes could be useful. The fact of the matter is I just don’t know one way or the other for sure. Besides, by the time he gets those notes into the hands of someone who’ll understand them, and know for sure, I’ll be able to transfer somewhere else. I can tell you this much, just as one person who knows how to read, those notes are definitely incomplete. The pages were numbered at the bottom and only about half of them where there. I imagine Dr. Serizawa burnt the rest already before you got to him.”

“I think Brock will be somewhat relieved to hear that.” Marcus remarked. “I know I’m certainly happy the weapon is out of Malek’s reach, if only for a little while.”

“Yeah, Dr. Serizawa was brilliant.” Dr Orsini noted. “A genuine genius of his field. I don’t know if there is enough information left in that report for someone understand and duplicate. Best case scenario, whoever gets that assignment will have their work cut out for them for sure.” Orsini started to put on his gear.

“You’re really going down there by yourself?” Marcus asked. “You have no idea what you might run into.”

“I’ve done this a hundred times before.” Dr. Orsini assured him. “I’m a marine biologist. This is my area of expertise.” He put on his goggles.

“Wait, don’t you have to wear that robot-looking helmet and suit?” Marcus asked, looking surprised. “This equipment you got here looks a little light for diving.”

“That heavy old-fashioned stuff?” Orsini asked with a smirk. “No… What you see here is a little newer and more user-friendly. This rig is a self-contained underwater breathing apparatus, or a ‘SCUBA’ suit. No heavy helmets and no tubes you have to breathe through that tie you to the ship. With this, my moments are not limited in any way. I like no longer being on a short-leash as it were. I can move about very easily underwater with these flippers to propel me. The oxygen tanks are a little heavy, but it’s a small price to pay for the freedom you get with them. Just call me the Frogman.”

Dr. Orsini picked up the rest of his gear and walked over to diving cage that was waiting for him hanging over the side of the ship. The Essex was in the center of the bay now and slowing down. Marcus and Dr. Orsini looked out over the side. The aftermath of Oxygen Destroyer’s deployment was already plain to see. Even on the surface of the water, the seas felt still and lifeless. It was like they had sailed into a desert. It was eerily quiet. Even the seagulls were staying away, as if they knew nothing was there for them anymore. The color of the water looked a shade lighter than it had been and it was far clearer than before. Dr. Orsini’s initial excitement for getting back to what he was good at was starting to fade. He put on his flippers and readied his mouthpiece. The sailors manning the lift of the cage opened the door for Dr. Orsini and waited for him to enter. Orsini stepped inside and got a grip to steady himself.

“Just push the button when you are ready to come back up.” One of the sailors instructed him. “We’ll be watching and waiting.” Dr. Orsini nodded in understanding, and they began to lower him down.

“Good luck down there.” Marcus remarked. Dr. Orsini just gave him a thumbs up. He had already put the breather in his mouth.

Dr. Orsini sunk into the water. Once the cage was entirely submerged, he left it to head down further to the bottom of the bay. As Orsini descended, he only found open water. There were no fish swimming by to greet him. When he finally reached the bottom, he was horrified to find nothing but sand and rocks. The whole area was devoid of life. There were no traces of the monster, but there were also no sharks, dolphins, turtles, octopi, sea cucumbers, starfish, sea anemones, clams, snails, kelp, crabs, seahorses, or jellyfish to be found. Even the reefs were gone. All of the natural wonders of the ocean had been wiped out. Dr. Orsini grasped a handful sand and let it slide through his fingers. Everything was gone. It was sobering to see just how extensive the damage was.

Here and there were pieces of the Red Bamboo warships which had settled to the bottom after sinking. Dr. Orsini moved on, swimming through some ridged rock formations that should have been teeming with life. As far as he could see in every direction, nothing to be found. No signs of life whatsoever. As Dr. Orsini came out of the ravine a huge shadow suddenly loomed over him. There was a moment of fear. Perhaps the area wasn’t so lifeless after all. He looked up and saw that it was one of the fleet’s destroyers passing over head and blocking out the sun. His racing heart started to settle again.

After that, Dr. Orsini swam around for nearly an hour searching for anything he could find. He had come up empty so far. His oxygen was starting to run low and pretty soon he’d need to return to the cage and surface. However, just as he was about to leave, Dr. Orsini saw something move nearby his face. Something had passed very close by him. Whatever it was, it was very small. Orsini turned to see the lifeform moving towards a small rock formation nearby. He followed to get a better look at it.

Once Dr. Orsini reached the rocks, he saw a whole colony of the organisms. They were darting around the water very quickly. They were so small and fast, and there were so many of them, that he was having a hard time focusing on just one. Orsini looked around and saw that the whole area around the formation was still well-within the kill radius of the Oxygen Destroyer’s payload. Dr. Orsini wondered where these life forms had come from. Perhaps they had simply migrated in from outside of the bay in the hours since the Oxygen Destroyer’s deployment? It could be that the water currents had carried them in after the weapon had been fired. That would explain how they were there and alive when nothing else had survived.

The tiny creatures appeared to be some type of crustacean, but nothing like anything Dr. Orsini had ever come across in his travels as a marine biologist. Maybe they were an undiscovered tiny sub-species of shrimp? Dr. Orsini wanted to bring one back to study. A new species would be exciting. Maybe they’d even name it after him? Dr. Orsini reached out and tried to grab one of the creatures, but he was far too slow to catch one by hand. It easily slipped away from him. Orsini had not brought a net to make the job easier. He quicky recognized the futility of what he was doing and opted to give up.

Suddenly, Dr. Orsini felt a sharp pain his right wrist, he turned to see a tear in his wetsuit. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that it wasn’t actually a tear. There was simply a section of it missing. A whole patch gone. His skin was red and irritated where it had been. Had something bitten him, tore away the missing portion? Dr. Orsini looked around and didn’t see anything big enough to be much of a threat to him. Just more of the little crustaceans, which seemed pretty harmless. Just the same, Dr. Orsini knew it was time to leave. The nearly lifeless reef, his low oxygen levels, and a mysterious bite by an unseen attacker were finally enough to convince him he was overdue to get back to the surface.



As the chains pulled Dr. Orsini back up, he found Marcus was still waiting for him, and he had been joined by Brock in the meantime. The cage was brought over on the deck and then lowered. Dr. Orsini stepped out and found a stool to sit on. He pulled his googles off and set down his breather before sliding off his oxygen tanks. Dr. Orsini looked as white as a sheet. He didn’t say a word to Brock or Marcus as he started to take off his flippers and wet suit.

“You ok Doc?” Marcus finally asked.

“It’s worse than I imagined.” Dr. Orsini began. “There’s nothing left down there. The Oxygen Destroyer killed everything. Well… there’s something, but I don’t know what it is. I need to gather some more equipment and head back down there to collect some specimens.”

“No-can-do doctor.” The sailor operating the lift informed him. “The admiral wants us under way as soon as possible. He was already barking at me to try to get you up sooner, but I told him there was no way to contact you while you were down there. Then he wanted me to send someone down after you, but I told him that wouldn’t speed things up a whole lot. You were almost due back up anyhow, so I figured you’d be back up before another driver could be suited up.”

“Oh really, we’ll just see about that…” Dr. Orsini said before heading over to a phone at the base of the carrier’s island. He called up to the bridge to talk with Admiral Malek himself. The conversation was short and anything but sweet. Dr. Orsini did not look pleased when it was over. “I can’t believe it; he said it wasn’t important enough to investigate any further at this stage. He’s already got his eyes focused on the next Red Bamboo base.”

“Did you catch yourself on a rock doc?” Marcus asked, noticing Dr. Orsini’s wound.

“That looks more like a burn to me.” Brock noted. “How the hell did you manage to burn yourself under water?”

“Oh that?...” Dr. Orsini look down at his wrist. “I don’t know. I didn’t see it, but I think something bit me. It’s not important. I’m going tell you boys something though.” He went on. “As close as you were to the Oxygen Destroyer when it went off, you’re very, very lucky the device was detonated under the water.

“Why is that?” Brock asked.

“I do not fully understand it, but from what I gathered in the notes, the Oxygen Destroyer literally does what the name implies.” Dr. Orsini explained. “The weapon includes a capsule that contains what Dr. Serizawa described as ‘Mirco-Oxygen’. When this Mirco-Oxygen chemical is introduced into water, it causes a violent reaction. You saw that much for yourselves. But what the weapon really does is split the oxygen molecules of its surroundings. The chemical reaction liquefies the oxygen along with any animal or organic material. At first, its victims will begin to suffocate as the oxygen is eaten away around them. Then, as the process intensifies, oxygen is consumed from inside the afflicted subjects themselves. Ultimately, they will start to physically disintegrate. That’s how that big battle crab you saw disappeared into nothing. The chemical reaction ate up the entire thing alive. There wasn’t single a trace of it left behind in the bay.”

“What if they used this Oxygen Destroyer weapon on a city?” Marcus asked.

“Well, it would depend on the size and yield of the weapon.” Dr. Orsini observed thoughtfully. “But let’s say for the sake of argument someone built an Oxygen Destroyer with roughly the same blast radius of a run-of-the-mill nuclear bomb and used it on an average sized city. I figure the buildings made out of steel and concrete would be relatively unaffected, but it would virtually wipe out every single plant, animal, and person living in the immediate area. Basically, it would be just as deadly as a nuclear weapon, if not more-so, but without all of the physical damage and fallout. Much of the city’s infrastructure would remain intact. If you wanted to clear out your enemy without creating a nuclear wasteland, that would be the way to do it. Sure, you’d have to reseed all of the trees, crops, grass, and other vegetation, but you wouldn’t have to wait years for radiation levels to be low enough for the land to be livable again. I think the thing that scares me the most about the Oxygen Destroyer’s potential is how willing governments would be to use such a weapon. Without the drawbacks creating an uninhabitable irradiated wasteland, what’s really stopping them? You’d have to rebuild wooden houses, but there would already been an industrial base to start with. There’d be a city’s worth of vehicles and heavy equipment left sitting around. Untouched and just waiting to be repurposed. Resettlement could realistically begin within days under the right circumstances. Ironically, the real danger of this weapon is how clean it is.”



The Archimedes fleet did indeed get underway as Admiral Malek wished, leaving behind the decimated Red Bamboo base, and the even more devastated bay area. Marcus and Brock were once again summoned for a briefing to discuss the fleet’s next target. It was getting to be a little too much of a habit by this point. They felt less like a defensive force and more like a war-fleet. Three major assaults in less than two weeks? These were Wartime conditions. Akin to what Marcus and Brock had grown used to during the invasion of China.

“Gentlemen, there’s at least one more Red Bamboo base out there somewhere, and they likely have fighters on site.” Captain Hillard began. Admiral Malek was conspicuously absent from the briefing this time. “Let’s assume for a moment that the cargo plane spotted fleeing our last engagement is heading for the same Red Bamboo base that launched the Migs who trying to defend their nuclear research site Godzilla destroyed some weeks ago. Obviously, that base has to have a moderate to large airbase on it, which makes it a likely destination. If that is indeed correct, then we already have enough information to find it.”

“This should be interesting…” Roger leaned in and murmured to Marcus.

“Unfortunately, the Sabre fighter we put on the cargo plane’s trail had to turn back prematurely due to mechanical issues, so we could not pinpoint the exact location of the enemy base.” Captain Hillard explained. “However, our fighter was able to pursue them long enough to establish the likely location of the base. If we examine the range of the cargo plane from the position of Naval base it took off from.” He traced in a circle on the map using a precision pencil compass to illustrate the range of the aircraft. “And then add the range of the Migs from the Reactor base site…” He continued drawing in a second circle. “Then we can narrow down all of the possible locations of the third and final Red Bamboo base. It has to be within the overlapping sections of these two circles.” Hillard pointed it out for everyone to see. There was just a narrow sliver of overlap with a hand full of islands within the boundaries. “As you can see, that leaves us with only three possibilities. Now, that may seem like two too many, but we can further narrow down the location by using the last known heading the cargo plane.” He drew in an arrow marking out the course until the line intersected with one of the islands. “And from here, we have our answer. It is Tongo island.”

“How do you know that is the last Red Bamboo base in the pacific?” Brock asked skeptically.

“That’s simple.” Captain Hillard replied. “Aside from capturing scientific research notes from the Red Bamboo’s naval base, we also found communication records between the three of them. There was the nuclear site, the naval base, and finally, our next target, the air base. The records we obtained suggest there were only the three. So, this is their last stronghold in the pacific. Unfortunately, due to that fact, this is probably going to be a tougher nut to crack. Mostly likely, they are already preparing for our assault. We won’t be able to catch them flat footed like last time.”

“How do you plan to get around that then?” Marcus asked.

“First thing we’ll need to do it neutralize their runways.” Captain Hillard continued. “If we can crater those, then the Red Bamboo’s air force will have to fight us with whatever assets they have in the sky from the outset of the battle. Their goal will be roughly the same as ours, limit or eliminate our capacity to launch aircraft. Thus, their first priority will be to neutralize our carriers. Whoever does this more effectively will win the battle. It’s just as simple as that. Gun crews, this is going to be your moment to shine. Our fighters will shield the fleet the best they can, but even under the best of circumstances, there’s likely to be lapses. So, you’re the final line of defense. Aim well, shoot well.”

“Sure, no pressure…” Joe shifted in his seat anxiously.

“Assuming things go well from the outset, the enemy will not be able to get any more aircraft off of the ground and they won’t be able to evacuate any higher-ranking officers.” Captain Hillard pressed on. “If we gain air superiority, then we can destroy ground targets at our leisure. They’ll likely have a combat air patrol guarding the base, but we should simply be able to overwhelm them with numbers. A significant amount of Red Bamboo fighters were lost fighting Godzilla at their nuclear facility. It’s highly unlikely they’ve been able to replace those loses already.”

“So, they’ll most likely be fighting us short-handed?” Roger asked. “Good, I like that. I didn’t want a fair fight. The boys and myself would prefer a good old-fashioned turkey shoot.”

“I sincerely hope you get it.” Captain Hillard smirked. “Admiral Malek has issued strict orders not to destroy any structures on the base that might be research buildings. Those are to be taken intact. If you’re not sure, don’t risk it. Therefore, there will be no naval bombardments with this assault. The initial operations will all be carried out by aircraft. Troops will not be landing until after air-superiority is achieved, however long that may take. That is all for now gentlemen. I will keep you updated as more information becomes available.” Hillard dismissed them.



Less than twenty-four hours later, Roger was leading the Essex’s main strike force of Sabres towards the Red Bamboo’s Island stronghold. Marcus was amongst the squadron, serving as Roger’s wingman. Admiral Malek wanted every available plane committed to the initial stages of the fight. Airpower alone would decide the outcome of the fight. The squadron had closed to within twenty-five miles from the island, but the skies around it were strangely quiet. Not a single enemy fighter could be found.

“I don’t like this Roger.” Marcus radioed over to him. “Their radar has got to be picking us up by now. Where are their patrol fighters…? I’m not seeing any blips on my screen. There’s no way we caught them this flat-footed.”

“Yeah, even if they didn’t have a C.A.P. out, which is pretty damned unlikely, they should have managed to scramble something to try to slow us down a bit.” Roger agreed.

“Did you think it’s some sort of a trap?” Marcus asked.

“If it is, I can’t even begin to understand how it’s supposed to work.” Roger replied. “We haven’t picked up any radio traffic whatsoever. Let’s play devil’s advocate and assume the Red Bamboo somehow knew exactly when we’d arrive and had all of their combat aircraft waiting for us just outside of radar range. At this point, their men down on the base have not even attempted to contact their fighters and alert them to our presence. We’re minutes away from their airfields. Even at top speed, there’s no way their Migs can get back here to intercept us before we do extreme damage to their facilities. They have to know that their runways are one of our primary targets. If they’re left entirely undefended, not only will they be unable to launch any aircraft, but they also won’t be able to land any that are already up.”

“Maybe they aren’t concerned about that.” Marcus proposed. “If their fighters are waiting out there somewhere over the ocean for our attack to begin, they could attack the fleet while we’re too busy assaulting their base. They could do a lot of damage in return. Our base has to float on the water, theirs doesn’t. They could risk damaging their planes landing in the grass. But if they were able to sink the Essex, our fighters would have nowhere to return to. The jeep carriers are too small for Sabres to take off and land on. We’d all have to ditch out planes in the water.”

“If that’s the case, hopefully our own C.A.P. and deck gunners can hold them off.” Roger replied. “I don’t think the Admiral will let us turn around at this point.” He remarked.

The group of Essex fighters drew ever closer to the island. There was still no activity to speak of. They passed over the beach and then over the forested exterior. No AA fire was coming up at them from the trees, no radio transmissions were being picked up.

“Even if they don’t have a functional radar, they had to have seen us visually by now.” Roger noted. “Why hasn’t anyone set off any alarms? Why isn’t there any radio broadcasts going out to alert their fighters to strike?”

“Do you think Captain Hillard was wrong about this island being the location of the Red Bamboo’s airbase?” Marcus asked.

“I don’t see how it could be at this point.” Roger replied. “None of this is making any sense to me.”

“Hey, do you see that?” Marcus asked. “Up ahead, there is a plume of smoke rising from the canopy of trees.

“I guess we’d better check in out.” Roger answered. “This is Griffin leader to Griffin squadron. Hang back. Marcus and I are going to investigate this smoke. It could be an ambush. Keep an eye out for any trouble and back us up if it arrives.”

Marcus and Roger surged ahead to find the source of the smoke. They accelerated past the jungle and came upon what had once been the Red Bamboo’s airbase. They found that nearly none of the buildings were left standing, but oddly, all of the runways were perfectly intact. The huge pillar of smoke which had brought them there was billowing out of what had been the airfield’s primary fuel shortage area. It was burning furiously. The Red Bamboo’s Migs appeared to all be there, but they’d been blown to pieces scattered all over the base. Some of the planes had been burning recently, but the fires had burnt themselves out after consuming all of the jet fuel.

“Did a monster do this?” Roger asked confused.

“Maybe, but I don’t see any obvious footprints.” Marcus pointed out. “When Godzilla hit the Red Bamboo nuclear plant, we found his trail. There’s a lot of wide-open terrain down there and I don’t see anything like that here. Perhaps it was a monster that could fly?”

“That’s an interesting thought.” Roger remarked. “Let’s see if we can find any more of the base. Doesn’t look like there’s much left here. “Griffin leader to Griffin squadron, fan out and see what you can find. There’s been fighting here already. The enemy’s aircraft appear to have been neutralized. If you locate anything, report back to me immediately.”

“I don’t know about you, but it looks to me like the fight started here, but I doubt it ended here.” Marcus noted.



Less than an hour later, the Sabres had thoroughly swept the island and found no opposition to speak of. The jets returned to the Essex. After that, helicopters were loaded up with marines to put boots on the ground to take a closer look at what had transpired on the island. Upon hearing what the jets found, Admiral Malek insisted on going personally. Marcus got the responsibility of taxing him around as usual. Malek wanted to return to the area around the airfield. They landed and got to work scouring the area for clues.

It didn’t take them long to discover that the attack hadn’t come from the sky as Marcus had suspected. Upon exploring the jungle just adjacent to the airfield, they found remnants of the island’s ground defenses. In terms of strength, they were much the same as the previous islands’ fortifications, only in this case, they had been completed. There were no obvious weak points to exploit. A fact that apparently did not matter to the attackers. Whoever or whatever had come for the Red Bamboo that day steamrolled right through their defensive emplacements. There was a slew of dead Red Bamboo soldiers, but no casualties representing their attackers to be found. It was either very one sided, or they simply carried off their dead.

It was hard to say who or what attacked the Red Bamboo. The areas around their positions showed some very bizarre damage. Some of the trees had been cut clean through, showing some burning at the points of contact. They had not been blown apart. There was no splintering in the wood. It was simply sliced though in one long clean cut. Several of the Red Bamboo soldiers shared a similar fate. Some being cut in two at the torso, while others were missing limbs that had been severed. All of the wounds, straight clean cuts. Other soldiers appeared to have taken hits by some type of powerful projectile that left big gaping holes in their torsos. Whatever had hit them didn’t leave typical exits wounds either. A rifle’s bullet would leave a small hole in the point of entry and then explode out the other side. These holes were the same sizes on both sides. And every single one of the wounds were cauterized.

“What in the hell happened here…?” Marcus asked, surveying the area which was full of burn-out pill boxes and bodies. Brock came up with a squad of marines to report back to Admiral Malek from the beach.

“What do you have for me corporal?” Malek asked.

“Best we can tell, the Red Bamboo were being attacked from pretty much from every angle.” Brock informed him. “By what…? I couldn’t even begin to tell you. Whoever attacked left no shell casings that we could find. No bodies either. We did find some very odd tracks though. Never seen anything like this. Every beach has hundreds of them. They were not made by boots; I can tell you that much. Casts are being made from them. That way we can get an idea of the depth and shape of the imprints. To me though, they kind of look like sharped poles stabbing into the ground. I don’t know, they’re odd. The tracks are present here in the jungles too. They charged in from the beaches. Whatever was being supported on top of those appendages crushed every defense on this island without much trouble.”

“What kind of weaponry do you suppose they were using?” Admiral Malek asked.

“You’ve seen the blast damage for yourselves by now.” Brock answered. “Since there are no shell cases, I’d say they were using some type of energy weapons, like super-heated beams. That would explain the types of wounds we’ve seen here. The burns, etc. Aside from the tracks and the burn damage, they left no traces. No bodies, no vehicle wreckage, no equipment loses. Whoever or whatever they were, this was a complete one-sided massacre. If the attackers took any loses whatsoever, it’s not evident here.”

“You don’t think this was the work of a kaiju?” Marcus asked.

“It’s possible, but I doubt it.” Brock replied. “The imprints in the sand are not nearly deep enough to suggest something that heavy.” He noted. “This was not one big something, it was a lot of little somethings. Perhaps thousands of them, and all in a large-scale coordinated attack. They came in all at once and methodically dissected the island’s defenses one by one.”



Moving out of the jungle, Admiral Malek and his entourage entered the grounds of the main airbase and started to look around. By this point, it was becoming clear that there were no Red Bamboo survivors on the island. The very last holdouts had been driven on to the airfield from the jungle. Marcus could see how the last minutes of the battle had unfolded, Red Bamboo men retreating from place to place and losing more men with each step they took.

The whole engagement seemed so lopsided that Marcus actually found it a little upsetting. The Red Bamboo were no angels, but it was so obvious that they didn’t stand a fighting chance. He couldn’t help but feel for them. The Red Bamboo soldiers had been trapped and slaughtered like rats. No hope of escape, no hope for victory. Just delaying the inevitable. The last of the Red Bamboo men took refuge in a heavy underground concrete bunker. Perhaps they thought they could hide there until the massacre was over. They were wrong.

“This is it.” Brock announced. “This is where they made their last stand.” Everyone could see that the heavy metal doors had been forced open. They stepped inside and found absolute carnage within. The last remaining Red Bamboo soldiers had been cut to pieces.

“My God… these men were butchered.” Marcus whispered. The eyes of one of the dead Red Bamboo soldiers was looking right at him. The dead man was staring up at Marcus as if he was still looking for reprieve. These men were no friends of his, but they were still men, and they had died horribly. There was blood everywhere. Not a single spot on the floor was left unspoiled by the crimson horror. “I can’t see this anymore.” Marcus ducked back outside getting out of sight.

“This feels pretty personal.” Brock said, mostly unbothered by the slaughter. “The attackers didn’t use any of their projectile weapons here. This was all done up close and personal. Malicious and brutal hand to hand combat.”

“What makes you so certain?” Admiral Malek asked. “All over the island we’re finding men cut to pieces, what makes these guys any different?”

“Alright, since you asked, this was done with some type of edged weapon.” Brock bend down to point to a throat that had been cut. “See the jagged edges? I’m not a forensics expert, but I don’t need to be to see what went on here. The other victims in the jungle may have been sliced and diced, but those cuts were clean, and in most cases, all the way through, and with strange burns. These wounds, on the other hand, are vicious and more typical of what I’ve before seen in close combat. These guys were hacked to dead. It wasn’t pretty. See here…?” Brock pointed to another slash into a torso. “No burns. Some of these injuries look to have been done post-mortem.” Brock noted some missing ears and many, many redundant stab wounds on top of killing blows. A lot of unnecessary, extra-attention had been paid to the fallen soldiers. “Looks like they took some trophies to me.” He noted. A head had been entirely removed and was missing from the scene. “I’ve seen that sort of thing done before in heavy combat. Still, all of this is needlessly savage.”

“Seems to me like someone was awfully angry Corporal.” Malek noted.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking maybe they were trying to send a message.” Brock observed. “And here’s something else interesting sir.” Brock pointed to a bloody boot impression left on the floor. “That wasn’t left by any of the Red Bamboo soldiers. I’d say it was one of the killers who was lingering for a little too long and got sloppy.”

“It looks like it was left by a man.” Malek remarked. “So, this was not the work of monsters?”

“I wouldn’t say that necessary sir.” Brock commented. “Monsters come in many forms after all. But it doesn’t seem like a kaiju was involved in this case, no. I’ve never seen boot marks like these though. They don’t look like military boots to me.”

“What do they look like then…?” Malek asked.

“I don’t know.” Brock answered. “This is strange… These groves in the front… you see the double lines around the outer edge near the rim of the toes?”

“Sure, what of them?” Malek invited.

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was a layer of armor over the boots.” Brock remarked. “You know, like knights used to wear.”

“So maybe the attackers were armored from head to toe?” Malek noted. “That could explain why the Red Bamboo’s guns didn’t do them much good, but then again, what kind of armor could repel modern bullets? There’s a reason body armor went out of style about two-hundred years ago. Even rudimentary gunpower weapons could penetrate the best armor.”

“This is a bit of a mystery then.” Brock said. “This day is turning out to be a lot more interesting than I had expected.”



The Archimedes fleet came in close to the island and laid anchor. They remained there to further investigate what happened. After a day of probing, there was very little evidence found to piece together who was behind the attack. The best lead was a fragment of strange metal found near a blast marker in the heaviest area of fighting. It appeared to have been blown off a piece of armor. There was blood on it, but a body wasn’t anywhere to be found. The sample was taken for metallurgic analysis.

One of the few buildings on the airfield that was still left standing was a hanger for a prototype aircraft. The aircraft itself was untouched and the blueprints for it were still in the office inside a tidy untouched file folder. Whoever attacked the Red Bamboo base had no interest in the advanced aircraft or the cutting-edge mechanics involved with the design. Admiral Malek on the other hand was more than happy to scoop them both up. No further information was found involving the Oxygen Destroyer, but the advanced aircraft design and the prototype itself were an alright consolation prize.

As the Archimedes’ forces were continuing to search the island, a series of interesting transmissions were intercepted by the Essex’s radio operator. American listening posts were reporting distress calls from numerous military bases in mainland China. Some of the bases were known Red Bamboo facilities which they had intelligence on, while others were just regular Chinese military bases. That made things a little more interesting. The attacks occurred overnight and in the dark. Not much was seen, so the Chinese couldn’t know for sure who was behind it. The information coming through was spotty, but apparently Chinese casualties were very heavy.

When Marcus heard the news, he was very concerned. Hitting legitimate Chinese targets could lead to a war. He hoped the Chinese government wouldn’t presume it was the Archimedes Organization behind the attacks, though considering how they’d just assaulted two of their bases, it would be the logical conclusion. Even Marcus himself wasn’t so sure. The Archimedes organization wasn’t just their fleet. It was an entire branch of the U.S. military with a lot of moving parts, and with Malek in command, there was no telling what they might do. After two days had passed, there was nothing officially announced from the Chinese government. Marcus decided to talk it over with Brock.

“Well, if you ask me, I’d say the Chinese really pissed someone off.” Brock remarked. “I know you caught a glance at the bodies in the bunker. That wasn’t a fight. That felt like revenge. The whole attack feels like a large-scale reprisal.”

“I think the Chinese have some idea who attacked them.” Marcus noted. “They’re not accusing us, and if I were them, we’d be suspect number one.”

“Yeah, they’ve been oddly tight-lipped about the whole thing.” Brock observed. “Almost like they’re pretending it didn’t happen.”

“There has to be another organization out there.” Marcus observed. “So many attacks in so many places all at once. And pulling them all off almost without a trace… Whoever they are, they’re real good. Well-organized and coordinated.” He paused while thinking. “Do you remember the Japanese depth charges being sabotaged? They never figured out who was behind that either. And then the incident at the naval intelligence building where someone was trying to break in. That’s also still unresolved…” Marcus’ gut told him those things were all somehow connected. “Did you see the charts marking out the locations of the Chinese bases? Every one of those attacks were along the coast.”

“What are you saying?” Brock asked.

“I’m not sure yet.” Marcus answered. “It’s just interesting is all.”

“It’s hardly surprising.” Brock countered. “For anyone attacking from the outside, those are the easiest places to reach. Hit and run before the defenders can react. Simple military tactics.”

Unexpectedly, Roger ran into the room.

“Hey, have you guys heard?” He asked breathlessly. “Anguirus is attacking Japan again!”



Akira dove down in his Sabre hammering down with both his rockets and his cannons. His plane shook from all of the bullets streaming out of it. He gave it everything he had. To Akira’s disappointment, most of the ammunition bounced off of Anguirus’ tough armored hide. The munitions that didn’t bounce off simply exploded harmlessly against the monster’s outer shell. Akira pulled up and circled around to watch. More and more firepower battered away at Anguirus from the planes following Akira’s. No noticeable effect.

“Damn it!” Akira cursed. “We’re not doing anything to him.”

The next wave of jets dove down and unloaded all of their rockets and bombs. Clusters of flashing of orange explosions followed. None of which seem to slow down or bother Anguirus one bit. Conventional weapons were once again proving to be pretty useless. Anguirus continued to march forward unabated, bulling his way through a five-story building and sending debris flying in the air. What remained of the structure after he passed through it was not able to support its own weight and collapsing into a heap. Satisfied with the damage he’d inflicted, Anguirus turned back to the ocean and slinked back beneath the waves.




(No pics for this chapter. It's not an oversight. This chapter is just not a visually interesting one. This one was more about character development and moving the plot forward. Any pics I could have done would have just been rehashes of shots I've already done before. Anyways, only one more chapter of prepared content remaining at this point. Still trying to decide if I want to continue or not. Thanks for the support MP. You do make some good points.)
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by mpsoldier »

I think you just didn't want to do the pictures because you didn't want to spoil the mystery. But you know what? We already figured it out. The Red Bamboo was attacked by...Batman. Armoured boot, sneak attack, little evidence, plasma weapons, it all adds up. Poor Dr Serizawa. In every continuity he doesn't end well. I guess devising something called "the oxygen destroyer" is inherently a bad idea. On that note a little lost as to the mysterious sea life forms. I enjoy how you use more the just the big movies for source material. I had a thought it might be linked to the weird alien esque monsters on the fishing boat in Godzilla 1989. They are mentioned but actually never feature in the plot or are explained. Or maybe it's more of s contemporary idea, like the sea mosquitoes in Cloverfield? Glad to see Anguiros back. He's my favorite. I always loved playing him in Godzilla Melle. His sonic roar somehow goes through buildings which really gives him a solid edge. And he's always so doggedly loyal. He'd be my Kaiju equivalent. Great chapter!

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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

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I’ll give you a hint about the tiny sea creatures. Do you recall the aquarium seen from Godzilla vs. Destroyah? I was making an ‘indirect’ reference. :Destoroyah: ;)

The rest I’m going to stay tight lipped about. I like Anguirus too. He always kind of gets the short end of the stick and I happen to like underdogs. I did avoid pictures (in part) to cover up a mystery, but not the one you’re thinking of. I am very much trying to be obtuse whether or not Mothra was actually there or if Marcus was imagining it. A picture would prove it one way or the other. I’d rather stay ambiguous about it. The readers can decide for themselves. :Mothra61:

But I’ll say this much, never rule out Batman. :lol: :Batman:
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

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Hey, been reviewing the Kaiju War Chronicles to scratch that Kaiju itch while I wait for any updates. I work health care so with the pandemic I dont have alot of free time but I came up with two relatively short ideas. A brief sequel to my earlier Jet Jaguar piece set during your Rodan attacking Japan earlier chapter if you'd like me to do that. I also came up with an idea for a KWC match up in the current Monster movie monsterverse where a new modern Jet Jaguar attempts to stop King Ghidorah from destroying Earth after he gives his Alpha Cry in the Godzilla movie. Let me know if you'd like my input or have any suggestions.

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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

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mpsoldier wrote: Mon Oct 24, 2022 12:46 am Hey, been reviewing the Kaiju War Chronicles to scratch that Kaiju itch while I wait for any updates. I work health care so with the pandemic I dont have alot of free time but I came up with two relatively short ideas. A brief sequel to my earlier Jet Jaguar piece set during your Rodan attacking Japan earlier chapter if you'd like me to do that. I also came up with an idea for a KWC match up in the current Monster movie monsterverse where a new modern Jet Jaguar attempts to stop King Ghidorah from destroying Earth after he gives his Alpha Cry in the Godzilla movie. Let me know if you'd like my input or have any suggestions.

Kaiju War Chronicles… I feel like I’ve heard of that one. Is that here perhaps on Toho kingdom or on Fanfiction.net? I can’t say that I’ve read that. Actually, I try not to read other Godzilla fanfics in general because I feel like it would start to influence what I’m writing. It’s tough for it not to. Can you give me a run down on what it’s about? I get the impression that it could be about the events about the Netflix Planet Godzilla anime. I feel like a story about what happened ‘prior’ to the events of the anime would be a lot more interesting than the Netflix movie itself.

As far as your story ideas. Sounds interesting. I’d say go crazy. Proceed with both ideas and see where it takes you.

General story news: I have the first draft for the next chapter complete. Maybe in a week I can have the second draft done, and two weeks I can have the editing wrapped up and can post. I’ve been really busy lately. So I’m a little behind.
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

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Just a quick update. I’m running about a week behind at this point. Just been real busy lately. Mostly work stuff. My partner was out for 4 days with Covid so I was taking on the extra workload solo. Not super fun and I was pretty much exhausted every day. Anyways, I worked hard this weekend and I got the second draft of the next chapter finished. So, I just need to edit it now. Most likely by the end of next weekend I should have it done.
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

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Hey, I finished one of those stories I was talking about. The sequel to the earlier one I wrote about Jet Jaguar I posted earlier. I have a proof reader looking it over now so I'll post it soon. I've got one more I want to do for your story, but its more of an "in general" part that can fit in at almost any part of the narrative.

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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

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mpsoldier wrote: Sun Nov 06, 2022 11:07 pm Hey, I finished one of those stories I was talking about. The sequel to the earlier one I wrote about Jet Jaguar I posted earlier. I have a proof reader looking it over now so I'll post it soon. I've got one more I want to do for your story, but its more of an "in general" part that can fit in at almost any part of the narrative.
Cool beans. Look forward to reading it.
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

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Chapter 31: Electricity in the Air.

Without Godzilla to contend with, Anguirus had a free hand to raid up and down the eastern coast of Japan as he pleased. The Japanese military was doing their best to drive him off, but all of their efforts were in vain. Anguirus’ heavily armored hide was simply too sturdy for them to make any headway against. The monster was following a predictable pattern, slowly moving southward, and smashing his way through anything in his path.

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The Japanese government wasted no time calling for the Archimedes fleet to return and help them. Per Washinton’s orders, Admiral Malek weighed anchor and set them on course back to Japan. The Archimedes shore party had wrapped up their preliminary investigation at the Red Bamboo base anyways, but Malek still left a single jeep carrier and group of trusted officers to carry on and see what else they could learn in his absence. Malek wasn’t satisfied leaving behind so many unanswered questions, but there was no other alternative. In time, perhaps more facts would be revealed on just what had gone on there.

As Marcus read through the damage reports coming out of Japan, he began to regret saving Anguirus from Godzilla in Osaka. Anguirus had set about on his own path of destruction, as if he had decided to take on the mantle of ‘King of the Monsters’ for himself since Godzilla’s icy imprisonment.

“You think we can lure Anguirus on to an iceberg too?” Roger Joked, sensing Marcus’ morose attitude, and trying to lighten the mood.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Brock grumbled. “That was complete dumb luck with Godzilla. No way lightning will strike twice. This is going to be a hard fight, pure and simple.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Marcus interjected. “I heard Admiral Malek telling Captain Hillard that ‘Project M’ is finally ready and on the way to Japan. It’s being transported in pieces to Miyazaki even as we speak. They are going to assemble it over here and test it in open combat.”

“Well, if it’s still in pieces, I’d hardly call that ready.” Brock countered. “And if it hasn’t been tested in conventional proving grounds, then they’re taking an awful risk of something going wrong in the field. I know Anguirus is an urgent threat that needs addressing, but it sure does feel like they are wheeling out this secret weapon of theirs in an awful rush.”

“Well Brock, as the old saying goes, desperate times call for desperate measures.” Marcus reasoned.

“Assuming this new miracle weapon works out like they think it will, are we going to sail to China afterwards?” Roger asked. “The radio officer tells me they are getting inundated with distress calls from Chinese merchant ships. Since the attacks on their military bases, nothing sailing through Chinese territorial waters has been safe. There’s been at least twelve attacks so far. Military… civilian… it hasn’t mattered. If it normally floats, it has sunk.”

“Admiral Malek made it clear that we are staying far away from Chinese waters.” Marcus answered. “He said, and I quote: ‘I’m not risking a single one of our ships for those bastards.’ Even if we knew what we were dealing with, which we don’t, the admiral doesn’t want to take the risk of the Chinese thinking we are somehow involved. In the long run, railing that way might cause more harm than good.”

“You still think it is some kind of organization behind all of it Marcus?” Roger asked.

“More than ever.” Marcus replied. “All of the attacks have occurred within the Chinese coastline or costal waters. A monster certainly would not respect borders or international waters. And so many incidents have taken place within such a sort time all over the map. A single Kaiju simply couldn’t be at each of these places at once. Something else is going on here.”

“Whatever is happening out there, one thing is clear, the Chinese are on their own.” Brock noted ominously.



In the East China Sea, a group of Chinese merchant vessels clung together as they made their way towards the city of Ningbo. The small fleet was roughly one-hundred and fifty miles away from the port and racing at flank speed to get there. Each captain was well-aware of what had been happening over the last couple of days. They had pulled together with the notion of safety in numbers. In times of war, merchant ships who operated in convoy systems tended to have better odds of survival. It was near dawn, but still dark.

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Captain Wu-Li’s cargo freighter, the Wayward Traveler, was sailing at the rear of the convoy. Wu had been in the middle of his return trip from New Guinea when reports about the attacks in China began to come in. He hadn’t taken them lightly. Wu and his crew had grown more nervous and fearful with each new incident. They all just wanted to make landfall at Ningbo and go home to their families. Wu sat at the wheel with just one thing on his mind. He wanted to transmit a message to his wife to let her know that he was ok and on his way back to her, but he was afraid that any radio signals might draw attention to them.

Over the course of the last three days, the crew of the Wayward Traveler had meet up with other ships and signaled them using morse code via their deck lamps. The makeshift fleet had grown larger and larger as more vessels joined them. Altogether, there were six ships of various sizes and configurations. The largest one was a tanker in the center of the formation. It served as the de-facto flagship. It had the biggest crew and best equipment out of all of them. It also sat significantly higher on the water, which allowed them to have the longest line of sight out of any of the vessels. The tanker kept up regular contact with the rest of the flotilla, letting them know about course corrections and any other potential problems that might come up.

It was cold on the bridge of the Wayward Traveler. One of the ship’s windows had been broken out during a storm and it was letting in a constant flow of chilly sea air. Wu had meant to do a temporary patch job until they could carry out proper repairs in port, but he had been so overwhelmed with the stress of staying alive that the broken window had fallen by the wayside.

Wu’s first mate was slumped over next to him asleep at his post. All of his crew were exhausted from constantly being on the lookout for danger. The days of endless vigilance and anxiety were starting to take their toll. Wu was a tough and experienced sailor, but even his nerves were about shot. He’d been trying to keep everyone calm and together, but it was getting tougher by the day. Wu had only gotten in a few catnaps here and there and he was stung out. He promised himself, if they could just make it home, he could sleep for days to make up for it.

From the stern section of the tanker in front of him, Wu saw a message flashing over from a signal lamp. He was to correct his course two degrees starboard to maintain formation with the rest of the flotilla. He turned the wheel sightly, compensating.

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As Wu kept the Wayward Traveler on course, he heard a deep reverberating sound that seemed to penetrate every section of the ship. The very metal of the hull was vibrating; Wu could feel it in his toes. Wu’s first mate was stirred by the sensation and jumped to his feet not understanding what was happening.

Wu looked out the windows of the bridge into the darkness. His heart was racing as adrenaline began pumping through his veins. He didn’t see anything unusual though. The first mate said nothing, but he looked to Wu for guidance and strength. He looked like a child who had been frightened by thunder. Wu decided he needed to take a look around the ship for himself. Perhaps what they had heard and felt was a problem with the ship’s engines. They had been pushing the machinery pretty hard for a long time, maybe it was simply straining to keep up with their demands.

Wu had his first mate take the wheel while he went outside to investigate. He looked at the smokestack. It was still spewing out fumes at a regular rate. The ship was maintaining its speed without difficulty. Perhaps they had hit something? Wu circled around the outer rails checking the hull. He started on the starboard side of the ship and didn’t stop until he was on the portside. No obvious issues to be found.

Wu looked up at the horizon, there was nothing to be seen as far as the eye could see. There was another noise coming from below. Wu looked back down at the water. He leaned his head over the guard rail. Suddenly, two huge lights came on under the surface. It startled Wu and he pulled his head away from the water. A dark silhouette, outlined by the light, began to move beneath the water towards the tanker. Some of the sailors on tanker took notice of what was going on and began to shout panicked warnings.

Wu ran back to the bridge of the Wayward Traveler. He felt a little more secure inside of the cabin. Wu sounded his horn as a warning to the rest of the ships. Warning bells and search lights began to go off all over the flotilla. It was pointless though. There wasn’t anything any of them could do to avoid what was coming next. For a brief moment there was a gleaning light emanating from under the water which mesmerized the sailors who saw it. The light show was swiftly followed by green energy beams shooting out to the surface. The beams tore open a twenty-foot breach into the tanker’s hull. The fuel within the ship instantly ignited and the entire vessel went up in an enormous cascading explosion.

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The giant fireball reflected in the windows of the Wayward Traveler and in Wu’s eyes. He held his breath as he felt the heat. Within seconds, flames began to rain down over the entire area, including the deck of the Wayward Traveler. By this time, Wu’s crew were all alerted and running onto the deck to see what was happening. They tried to beat out the fires and suffocate the flames, but it was like trying to stamp out napalm. Wu saw at least one of his men go overboard after catching his pants legs on fire. The best they could do after that was use buckets of water. Wu however was not so concerned about the fire on his own vessel so much as what was continuing to happen to the rest of the fleet out ahead of them.

The large fishing boat that was out ahead of the tanker was the next victim in line. A second volley of green energy beams sought it out and cut the vessel clean in half. Wu had his binoculars out and saw one unfortunate sailor caught up in the ray as it passed through. The beam burnt through him like a hot knife in butter. The man only felt it for a split second before it killed him. The look on his face was that of utter terror. Each half of the fishing boat sank very quickly after that as the various compartments were filled with water. The surviving crew had no choice but to take their chances in the clutches of the cold water.

The lights beneath the sea moved on towards the next target, a cargo vessel much like Wu’s own ship. It was at that moment that Wu decided to change the Wayward Traveler’s course and try to run away from whatever was attacking them. He maneuvered around the still burning wreckage of the tanker and made a run for it. Wu could see the flashes of green light behind them followed by the orange of the exploding cargo ship.

Wu pushed the throttle control stick as far forward and as hard as he could. The Wayward Traveler was already going full speed ahead, but in his desperation, Wu thought maybe if he pushed a little harder, he could get some extra performance of the engines. It was an irrational thought of course. The ship was running as hard and as fast as it was capable. Willing it to go faster wouldn’t make it happen.

Another explosion registered behind them. It was far away, but still too close for Wu’s comfort. The Wayward Traveler just wasn’t built for speed, and it had no weapons to speak of. They were practically defenseless. One of the few remaining ships behind them got aggressive and attempted to ram their attacker. They lined up the target and closed the gap. They got closer and closer only to pass above the enemy harmlessly. Their foe was too deep in the water for them to even touch.

The aggressive captain got his ship got blasted out from under him for his trouble. A sad reward for his bravery. The only other remaining ship of the fleet was making a run for it too, but they didn’t get too far. Moments later, they too were destroyed. Out of the six original ships of the flotilla, only the Wayward Traveler remained.

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Wu could feel the unknown enemy closing in on them. The specter raced under the water after them like a predator. It was astonishingly fast. Wu’s first mate was shouting that it was already coming up behind them, but Wu didn’t know what else to do at that point. No matter what course of action he took, it was going to get them. He instructed his crew to take the lifeboat and abandon ship. Maybe he could buy them a little more time to get clear. Prevent their deaths if he was lucky. But someone had to stay at the wheel.

The sun was just starting to rise, and Wu could see something coming toward them on the horizon. A dark figure with enormous flapping wings was approaching. It was a monster advancing on them from the other direction. Wu’s heart sank. He asked himself how much worse could his luck get? All he wanted to do was save his crew, and he couldn’t even accomplish that minuscule task.

A few moments later, Mothra arrived over the Wayward Traveler. She looked down upon the tiny ship and cried out shrilly, flapping her wings. The burning piles of petroleum on the deck were blown off and out into the water. The sailors were forced to hang on for dear life while she did so.

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The unknown entity that had been chasing the Wayward Traveler halted under the water and held its position a hundred yards away. A harmonic sound resonated from the water and Mothra seemed to respond, calling back to it. Wu and his men could just watch in astonishment. Mothra was gentility hovering over the ship, seemingly extending her protection over it as she chirped and squeaked. The entity reverberated in response. From where it was, it couldn’t attack the cargo ship without risking hitting Mothra along with it.

Finally, the entity sank lower into the water until it had disappeared. Mothra lingered only for a moment before moving on herself. She flew off heading northward. Just like that, it was all over. The sun came up and the grateful crew of the Wayward Traveler set a course for home.



Two days passed and the Archimedes fleet arrived in the city of Miyazaki. Miyazaki was located on Kyushu, the landmass which made up the southmost portion of Japan’s island chain. Anguirus seemed to be on his way there. The monster had continued moving southward, marching through the outskirts of Kochi, and surfacing nearby the harbor of Nobeoka. Miyazaki was the next large city in his path.

A defensive line was being put together around Miyazaki. The Archimedes fleet laid anchor in the harbor while elements of the Japanese fleet were on patrol outside of it. If Anguirus wanted to enter the city through the bay, he was going to find significant opposition there. The USS Nebraska’s heavy guns were already waiting for him and IJN Yamato and Musashi were on their way as well. The firepower of the three massive battleships combined could do some real damage, even Anguirus might think twice about engaging them.

Mine layers were booby-trapping sections of the bay near the mouth. Anguirus would not be able to sneak into the harbor without setting them off. The defenders would have ample warning of his approach by sea. On land, there was a ridge southeast of the city facing out towards the ocean which would make an excellent defensive line. The Japanese had already closed down the highway running along it to civilian traffic and were fortifying the area. The citizens of Miyazaki were advised to evacuate north before the monster arrived.

The nearby airport was taken over by the Japanese air force to be utilized as a forward operating base. The civilian aircraft there flew out as many of the Miyazaki residents as they could in one long line of departing flights and then didn’t return. In their place, fighters, bombers, and support aircraft flew in and set up shop. A fleet of large American cargo planes had arrived earlier in the day. They were carrying the mysterious ‘Project M’ weapon that everyone was buzzing about. The airport hangars quickly filled up as various flight groups claimed them. Inside one of hangars, the secret weapon was being assembled.

Space was tight, and Akira’s squadron just so happened to be sharing half of their hangar with the American engineers. The two halves of the massive hangar were separated by a series of large curtains, hiding the true nature of the weapon. Everyone was eager to see what the finished product was going to look like. Akira on the other hand only hoped it would be enough to defeat Anguirus. After days of hammering ordinance down on the monster without much success, he was started to get disheartened.

No one wanted to see the new weapon assembled more than Admiral Malek though. He had Marcus fly out with him and brought Brock along for security. Captain Hillard decided to tag along too. The four men flew over Miyazaki on their way to the airbase. Marcus looked down to get a good look at what they were defending. He was horrified to see that there were still many civilians in the city. Some who had yet to evacuate. Those who could not evacuate. And those who had willfully chosen not to leave.

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“The attacks on Chinese shipping have stopped.” Captain Hillard said, apparently just trying to make conversation. “And no more military installations have been hit either.”

“I heard the radio operator say that he got a transmission claiming that Mothra had been sighted a couple days ago.” Marcus replied. “I don’t know if it’s true or not, but maybe it is related?”

“That interesting…” Hillard said. “The identity of the attackers remains unclear. I wonder why they would care about Mothra interjecting herself into the situation?”

“Beats me.” Marcus answered.

“Maybe they have some kind of history together?” Brock suggested.

Malek had just been sitting there listening to the conversation. He saw that Brock had a freshly inked tattoo on his upper arm. It was a marine corps emblem. Brock had gotten it while they were sailing back to Japan from one of the guys who had talent with a needle. Just something to help pass the time in his mind. Malek looking at it made Captain Hillard notice it too.

“Did that hurt corporal?” Hillard asked curiously, continuing to make small talk. Despite his many years in the navy, the straight and narrow captain knew very little about tattoos.

“It didn’t feel like angel kisses, I can tell you that.” Brock replied with a smirk.

The rest of the flight was relatively quiet until they finally reached the makeshift airbase. The officers of the Japanese air force were hard at work getting everything organized. With well over a hundred planes jamming up the small airport, they had quite the task. Admiral Malek pointed out the hangar earmarked for their use. With all of the paved areas on the base already spoken for, Marcus found a flat area in the grass nearby the hangar to land on.

Image

The hangar housing the weapon was the largest one on the base. It was meant for housing and servicing the biggest planes the airport had at any given time. The ingenuity of such enormous structures always impressed Marcus. As the group walked towards the entrance, they had to pass through a security checkpoint. There were two Archimedes guards wearing their imposing black uniforms. The pair had obviously been picked due to their impressive size and stature, though Brock still edged then both out slightly. The two soldiers seemed to size Brock up as they met him. Admiral Malek presented the guards with his I.D. and they saluted, allowing the group in.

Once they had entered, Marcus saw dozens of military engineers hard at work. The hangar was filled with sights and sounds. The clanging of metal on metal, the bright flashing of welders, pieces of machinery being moved around and ratcheted together, and men shouting to one another. It looked unbelievably complicated, parts strewn about everywhere, and Marcus couldn’t even begin to understand what it all was.

Amongst all of the engineers, there was a man wearing a dirty white lab coat who seemed to be supervising the process. He had to be the man in charge. Malek walked towards him. The gentleman in the lab coat had his head buried in a schematic pointing out technical details to his chief assistant.

“Doctor Stiener?” Admiral Malek addressed him, drawing his attention away from his work.

“Yes…?” He turned to face Malek. “Oh Admiral, you have already arrived.” He said in a heavy German accent. “I’m afraid we are still hard at work getting things put together. I know you wanted to see the finished product, but that’s going to be awhile yet. You’re going to have to settle for a bit of a presentation for now.” He informed Malek, who looked a little disappointed.

“Well, under the circumstances, I’ll take it.” Malek replied. “But first, let me introduce you to Captain Hillard. Captain, this is Dr. Reinhart Steiner, the designer and chief engineer of project M. He’s our advanced weapons expert. The heart and soul of the department.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Dr. Steiner shook Hillard’s hand before turning his attention back to Malek. “Sir, I must advice you, I think it might be premature to deploy these units here.”

“What good were these weapons doing Stateside?” Malek replied. “I need them over here where the action is.”

“It is not a matter of location; it is a matter of timing and testing.” Reinhart retorted. “Because you moved up the timeline, we were forced to skip much of the final checks. It could be dangerous.”

“A necessary evil.” Malek replied dismissively. “All of us are going to have to make do with what we have at this point.” There was an awkward silence.

“What the hell is that even supposed to be?” Brock asked from the back, looking over to a partially put together prototype. “A big flashlight…?”

“Perhaps it is time to begin the slideshow?” Captain Hillard suggested.

“Yes, I have a projector all set up.” Reinhart agreed. “It will help everyone understand what we are doing here. Illuminate things, so to speak.” He smiled at Brock.



A few minutes later, everyone had gathered in an improvised projector room. Some Japanese officials were present as well. They contended, quite reasonably, that if the weapons were to be deployed on their soil, they needed to know how they worked and if there were any potential risks involved. Dr. Steiner came in and fumbled with the projector’s remote to get things started.

“For those of you who don’t already know, I am Dr. Reinhart Steiner.” He began. “I work for the Archimedes organization’s experimental weapons division. You have no doubt noted my accent. My country of origin is Germany. Growing up, I had the unfortunate luck to live in the village of Essenheim, where the Kaiju Varan first appeared. I was there the night he emerged from the lake. I went through some terrible things at that time, saw first-hand what a Kaiju is capable of.”

Reinhart clicked the first slide and a picture of Varan roaming the German countryside projected on the screen.

“I learned a very valuable lesson that night: Real life isn’t some fairytale.” He clicked through several more pictures of Varan rampaging. “Good does not always triumph over evil just because you think it outta. If you want to see good prevail, you have to fight to make it happen. The German military tried everything within their power to kill the monster Varan, but failed time and time again.” Reinhart clicked through several more slides of the tanks and planes attacking the monster. “Varan was eventually defeated by Mothra and hasn’t been seen since. When the Second Great War broke out with Russian, many people forgot about the monster, wrote him off as a fluke, but I’ve never forgotten about him.”

Reinhart cleared his throat and took a sip of water before going on.

“During the war, I helped to design new weapons systems for the German military. Our slogan in the weapons division was: We shape history through violence. They wanted to kill men, but I never lost sight of my own true goal. I wanted to kill monsters. I meant to design weapon systems that did exclusively that. To give humanity a meaningful way to fight back when the time came again to defend ourselves from menacing giants. I left Germany after the war. My goals simply were not theirs. When I learned of the Archimedes organization and its purpose, I knew I found my calling and my new home. Like-minded individuals who shared my mission in life. I was accepted in, and the work began. What you see being built in that hangar is the fruit of all those years of labor.”

Reinhart clicked the remote to push the next slide up.

“I present to you, The Maser Cannon.” Reinhart declared with pride, the prototype model appearing on screen. “Maser stands for: Microwave Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. In essence, it is a device that produces coherent electromagnetic waves through the amplification of radiation. Those energies are funneled and concentrated into a directed-energy weapon. But to put it in simpler terms that everyone can understand, it’s a ray gun.” Reinhart smiled widely. “What will make this weapon succeed where other conventional weapons have failed is its ability to effectively bypass a monster's armor and damage the tissues below. The stream of energy the maser cannon fires acts similar to a bolt of lightning. A monster like Anguirus can shrug off rocket attacks with his heavy armor like they were just firecrackers, but all that armor will provide little defense from Maser beams. He will feel every single hit, I promise you that.”

“The finished product appears to be pretty exposed.” Captain Hillard noted, eyeing the frame of the weapon.

“Yes, there is that.” Reinhart acknowledged. “Unfortunately, since we rushed these units into service, there was not time to hammer out certain issues related to the armor schemes. What you are seeing here is the skeleton and muscle of the design. At first, I was just like you captain, uneasy about how vulnerable this design appears, but then it occurred to me: A Maser cannon is not meant for conventional warfare. If a monster were to trample over it, a thin layer of tank armor would not prevent it from being crushed, so why worry about it? If Godzilla, God forbid, were to return, his atomic breath would melt right through any protection we could weld on to this chassis, so why even bother? Firepower and mobility are the strengths of such a weapon, and we can pair these units with regular armor companies to help take hits for them to increase their longevity on the battlefield. Now, that is not to say that later models won’t be outfitted with armor, but for today, we simply have no alternative.”

“You said units?” Captain Hillard replied. “Am I to assume there is more than one?”

“Why yes.” Reinhart answered. “There are in fact three prototypes here. While they look identical in design from the outside, each of them has minor engineering variations under the hood. They haven’t been extensively tested, again due to time constraints, so to figure out which works best, we’ll be testing all three live in the field.”

“Is there any danger?” One of the Japanese observers asked. “You mentioned them being nuclear. Is there a chance they could explode if something goes wrong?”

“They could defiantly explode.” Reinhart answered blatantly. The color drained away from the man’s face. “But not a nuclear explosion, just a regular run of the mill explosion, like in any typical weapon system. Nothing all that extreme.” He clarified. “You can feel safe utilizing these for your defense. The worst thing that can happen at this point is they fail to fire.”

“So, what I’m getting out of this is these Masers are going to be great for attacking, they have a lot of pow, pow, but they are basically glass cannons.” Brock noted. “They take the slightest hit, and poof, millions of dollars gone up in smoke.”

“Yeah, if you are going to deploy them, you have to ensure they are well-protected.” Marcus agreed.



Akira and Kiki were walking around the airport terminal talking. The whole area had been converted into a barracks for the Japanese air force. The hard tile floor wasn’t particularly nice to sleep on, but they weren’t likely to be there for more than a day. Anguirus had been spotted nearby approaching the area from the sea. The monster would be there by midday tomorrow at the latest. Akira was troubled. After so many failed assaults, he wasn’t really sure what they were going to do different this time.

There was some reason for hope with the new American super weapon, but the common Japanese soldiers had not been brought up to speed on what it was or how it worked. At that point, information about it was strictly need-to-know only. The curiosity of knowing its nature was eating away at Akira.

“Why don’t we just go check it out for ourselves then?” Kiki suggested.

“What are you talking about?” Akira stopped in his tracks. “We can’t just go waltzing in there.”

“We won’t know until we try.” Kiki replied casually. “It is half your hangar, is it not? You get us that far and I’ll do the rest.” She assured him.

“My plane is in there, sure, but I doubt they are going to let you in.” Akira pointed out.

“We’ll see.” Kiki answered, seemingly unconcerned.

Kiki and Akira went out to the hangar and approached the pair of Japanese guards on their side of building. Akira was getting more nervous with each step. He knew they were about to get into a confrontation. As they drew near, one of the men held up a hand indicating he wanted them to stop and identify themselves.

“You boys don’t mind if we go in and take a little tour, right?” Kiki said with a wink before either of the guards could say anything. There was a moment of silence. The first guard got a strange look in his eyes and lowered his hand. He stepped aside to make way for Kiki and Akira. The other guard just stood there like a statue. “Thank you.” Kiki said taking Akira by the hand and walking in past them.

Akira couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How had she done that? Could Kiki be some sort of government operative that he was oblivious to this whole time? Did she have some type of secret clearance? At that point, all he could do was follow her in. Kiki’s footsteps echoed throughout the hangar as she confidently walked through it. At that time of the night, there were only a handful of mechanics tinkering away at the aircraft performing routine maintenance. Since Kiki had made it past the guards outside, and she looked so confidant with Akira in toe, they all just assumed she was allowed to be there. No one said anything to them.

Kiki kept walking until she had finally reached the curtain separating to two halves of the hangar. She didn’t think twice about crossing over to the other side of the threshold once she found an opening. Akira went in after her, somewhat caught off guard. He thought maybe Kiki would just have peaked through to get a look at what the Americans had cooked up, but she just boldly crossed the line. He had little choice but to follow.

“Wow… this is impressive, don’t you think?” Kiki asked Akira as he came to her side. In front of them was one of the nearly completed Masers. It was the largest land vehicle either of them had ever seen. It was like a semi-truck on steroids outfitted with a massive laser cannon. For a moment, Akira forgot that they weren’t supposed to be there.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Brock happened to spot the pair from the other side of the vehicle, which brought Akira crashing back to reality. Brock was coming at them with a full head of steam.

“I’m allowed to be in here… my plane is in this hangar…” Akira stammered out nervously, it was the only thing could think to say on such short notice.

“Ok, fine, but you can’t bring a civilian in here.” Brock growled impatiently, getting even closer.

“It’s ok, I’ll handle this.” Kiki told Akira confidently.

However, before Kiki could turn back to address Brock, he was already on her. Brock seized her wrist forcibly, which took Kiki by surprise. Both of them shuddered upon contact. Kiki stared into his Brock’s eyes, and he stared right back at her. Neither of them said a thing. Everything just stopped for a moment. Akira was unsure what was happening. It was all very bizarre. Then it started to scare him.

Finally, Brock let Kiki go and seemed to relax his body. His face however told a completely different story. He looked like he was in a state of shock. Kiki also looked a little shaken. Brock turned and walked away without saying another word.

“What the hell was that all about?” Akira asked as quietly as he could as there were still other Americans lingering on the other side of the hangar who hadn’t noticed them yet.

“He saw his death…” Kiki said solemnly.

“He saw what…?” Akira asked, not certain he had heard Kiki correctly. “How could you know that?”

“Because I saw it too.” She replied softly. “I read his mind.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes.” Akira said irritated.

“Come sit with me.” Kiki invited, climbing up onto the side of the Maser where no one could see them. Once it became apparent that she wasn’t joking, Akira joined her. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time. I would have told you from the beginning, but I had to be sure you liked me for me first.” Kiki began.

“Ok…” Akira took her hand as a sign of confidence.

“I have abilities.” Kiki hesitated before going on. “Abilities that most people don’t have.”

“What kind of abilities?” Akira asked.

“Well… I can tell you, despite how he just acted, that man has a certain level of respect for you, though he won’t ever say it.” Kiki answered.

“It’s because I helped one of his friends once.” Akira noted.

“I can sense people’s feelings.” Kiki went on timidly. “And sometimes even push feels onto them. I can make people feel a certain way; happy, sad, impatient. It’s easy to make people trust me, like those guards we passed getting in here. I can also tell when someone is lying, particularly if I’m touching them.” She looked down at Akira’s hand. He didn’t move an inch. He only sat listening patiently. “I can implant ideas or notions in someone’s head. A mild form of suggestion if you’ve ever seen someone hypnotized. I can hear people’s thoughts from a distance when they are feeling intense emotions. But if I touch them, I can read them without the person being upset. If someone is having trouble remembering things, I can help bring it back to them. If I’m looking for someone, I can usually sense where they are. I never lose my keys.” She smiled. She pulled out a coin and placed it on the flat metal chassis of the Maser. “I can move small objects without touching them…” The coin slid towards Akira.

“Woah…” Akira exclaimed as the coin hit his pant leg. He almost jumped up from his seat. Up until that moment, Akira wasn’t entirely certain that Kiki wasn’t just putting him on. Clearly, she was being one-hundred percent serious.

“But that’s pretty hard.” Kiki took a deep breath, looking slightly dizzy from the effort. “I sometimes see things that haven’t happened, but will happen. Just now, with that American soldier, I had a glimpse of his future. If I’m around most people long enough, usually something will come through about them.”

“You haven’t used any of these powers on me, have you?” Akira asked coyly.

“I haven’t needed to.” Kiki smiled. “Actually, that’s not entirely true…” She corrected herself. “That one time I did help you find your way out of the mine at Kitamatsu. I wanted to make sure you picked the right path out of there for your own safety. I hope you don’t mind. Other than that, I haven’t tried to sway you in any way. I didn’t want to use my gifts to influence you into liking me. It’s been important to me that you do that all on your own.” She caressed his hand. “The day we met; I knew you were coming to my door well in advance. That’s how I was so well-prepared for your arrival. Our meeting was predestined, and I wanted to impress you.”

“If you can see people’s futures, what can you tell about me?” Akira asked.

“If I told you, it might not happen.” Kiki replied with a soft smile. “My powers are a family trait, passed down from generation to generation. Just the women though.” She noted.

“That doesn’t quite seem fair.” Akira remarked with a smirk. “Can you sense what I’m feeling right now?” He asked. “I mean, do you know what I’ve been meaning to ask you?”

“Yes.” Kiki answered. “Yes to the feeling, and yes to your question.” Kiki leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

“You know, I don’t have any exceptional powers, but I’ve always known there was something special about you, right from the start.” Akira dug into his pocket and produced a ring box. “I’ve been meaning to propose for weeks now but I hadn’t worked up the gumption to ask you.”

“I knew you would understand me.” Kiki began to weep. She had been waiting all of her life for that moment, and it had finally arrived.

“As soon as this fight is through, we’ll make it official, you’ll be Mrs. Kiki Saegusa.” Akira kissed her fully.



Marcus saw Brock leaning on a wall, his head resting on cold concrete. Something was wrong. He began to walk over to talk to him. Brock heard the footsteps approaching.

“You doing ok…?” Marcus asked, but Brock blew right past him as soon as he heard his voice. Brock’s eyes looked red. ‘What was that all about?’ Marcus thought perplexed. Whatever was bothering Brock, he obviously did not want to talk about it. The burly marine marched outside pulling out a cigarette as he went. ‘Maybe I’ll try again later.’ Marcus thought to himself.

A minute after Brock had gone out, six American MPs came into the hangar. One of them immediately split off on his own while the rest approached Dr. Steiner. The doctor didn’t see them coming. He was helping to assemble one of the Maser components. Marcus eyed the MPs; they were clearly on a mission. From a distance, Marcus could see the officer out front addressing Dr. Steiner. Marcus started to make his way over to see what was going on. Dr. Steiner looked as though he was getting agitated as he responded to the MP officer.

“Please just come with us quietly.” Marcus heard the MP officer say as he got closer.

“I will NOT!” Dr. Steiner replied, raising his voice to draw the attention of everyone in the hangar. “You think you have me fooled, but you do not!” Reinhart shouted angrily. The MP officer pulled out his service pistol and pointed it at Dr. Steiner, escalating the situation. Marcus stopped in his tracks when he saw the gun.

“Cuff him.” The MP officer ordered one of his underlings. At that point, Dr. Steiner lunged for the pistol, wresting the soldier for possession of it. For a thin man, Reinhart was remarkably strong. The MP officer lost his grip on the gun, and it flew out of his hand. The weapon hit the ground and went off. The other MPs rushed to restrain Dr. Steiner. Reinhart fought like a madman and bit into the hand of one of the soldiers. The man cried out and cursed loudly in Russian. The soldier reeled back and punched Reinhart in retaliation. Reinhart fell to the floor dazed.

“They’re damned Russian infiltrators you fools!” Reinhart called out from the floor to everyone in the hangar. The jig was up as three of the MPs looked around warily to see how everyone would react. That was enough proof for the mechanics who had been assisting Rinhart. A brawny engineer rushed at the MP soldiers from behind and bashed one of them in the back of the head with a wrench. The soldier went down in a bloody heap. One of his comrades fought back, striking the engineer in the abdomen with a powerful punch, knocking the wind out of him and putting him on the floor.

The adrenaline hit and Marcus rushed forward, throwing himself into the fray. He put all of his strength behind a punch which connected to the face of closest Russian to him. The soldier was a head taller than Marcus, but that first punch really put him on the back foot. He was too stunned to dodge Marcus’ follow up strike to the body, which cracked one of his ribs. Marcus could feel the crunch of the bone under his fist. In the meantime, the MP officer had not given up on taking Dr. Steiner. He grabbed him by the scruff of the coat. Reinhart retaliated by elbowing him in the face.

“You think because I am a scientist that I don’t know how to fight?” Reinhart cursed and thrashed angry. “I learned a long time ago, if you want to live you have to learn to fight!” He threw a halfway decent punch of his own. The MP captain took the hit well though and worked Reinhart into a headlock. He began to incapacitate Reinhart with a strong choke hold. Another soldier took Reinhart off of his feet and they began to carry him away.

Marcus meanwhile was also starting to lose ground in his fight. A second Russian had squared up to him and it was now two on one. Marcus managed to dodge one punch and block another one, but both of his opponents were bigger and stronger than him. It was just a matter of time before they overwhelmed him.

Suddenly, Akira entered the skirmish kicking hard into the right thigh of one of the Russians. The man was hobbled by the blow and angrily struck back at Akira. Akira was lightning fast though and had no problems sidestepping the attack. Kiki also appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. She crept up behind the other Russian soldier, who was too focused on Marcus to notice her. She grabbed the man near the base of his neck. The instant she made contact with him, the man went stiff. His pupils dilated, he wet himself, and finally the Russian went limp before dropping over like a falling tree.

The other Russian soldier had managed to get a hold of Akira by the shirt. Marcus turned his attention to helping his ally. Without hesitation, Marcus threw all of his weight at the soldier, tackling him onto the concrete floor. The Russian still had a hold of Akria and pulled him down on top of them both. Once on the ground, Marcus held down one of the Russian man’s arms by sitting on it with his knees while pummeling away at his face. Akira had a hold of the man’s other arm, preventing him from protecting himself. Marcus beat the tar out of him until his face was a bloody mess. Akira ended the struggle with a well-placed knee strike to the man’s temple. The Russian man’s hands went stiff, and it was clear that he was knocked out.

Marcus and Akira turned their attention to the two men carrying out Dr. Stiener. Reinhart was still putting up a respectable struggle. The Russians had to fight for every step they took towards the door. Just as they got close, Brock stepped back inside, blocking the exit. He had heard the gun shot fired and returned to investigate. He surveyed the scene, seeing Marcus and Akira entangled with the men they had taken down and saw the other pair trying to make off with Reinhart. Brock quickly put together what was going on. He stepped forward and cracked his knuckles, looking eager to join the brawl.

With Brock now in their way, the two Russians decided to drop Reinhart to the floor. They came at Brock intending to remove him as an obstacle, it was a gross miscalculation on their part. Brock caught the arm of the Russian officer as he threw a punch. He used the man’s own momentum against him, tossing him aside with a Judo style throw. The officer landed hard on his back against the unforgiving cement. He grunted after the impact and was slow getting back to his feet. Brock meanwhile started to lay into the other Russian soldier battering his face with some well-aimed jabs.

A bloody nose and a cracked lip later, the second Russian soldier got frustrated and pulled out a combat knife. He slashed wildly at Brock in his fury. There were several near misses and even a patch of Brock’s uniform got cut before the big man saw his opening. He seized the Russian’s wrist holding the knife and then bull him over onto his back. The Russian took the worst of the fall and Brock took full advantage. He slammed the man’s fist into the ground over and over again, forcing him to drop the knife. Brock seized the weapon for himself and, in a rage, buried it into the man’s chest.

The Russian officer, the only man left standing on the infiltrator’s side by that point, saw that his cause was hopeless and tried to make a break for it. Brock however refused to allow him to get away. He grabbed a hammer from a nearby work bench and threw it at him like a hatchet. The hammer hit the Russian officer in the right shoulder, and he went down. Brock was on him before he could get back to his feet. The fight was over. As he had clearly been the leader, and also happened to be the only man left conscious, Marcus came over to question him.

“Who are you?” Marcus asked, knowing that the officer could speak fluent English. “Who are you working for?” The Russian officer looked up defiantly at Marcus and made it clear he had no intension of talking. Brock wasn’t having any of it though and pulled the man’s arm behind his back and started to wrench down on it. The man cried out in pain. The pressure Brock was applying could break his arm at any moment.

“KGB!!!” The man finally yelled out. But Brock kept up the pressure until he heard a pop anyways.

“Guess that answered that.” Marcus remarked. “Easy up Brock, he’s not a threat anymore.” Brock eyed Marcus for a moment before finally relaxing his grip.

“Thanks.” Dr. Stiener walked up. He turned his attention to his would-be kidnapper and kicked him in the face while he was down. “Bastard...” The Russian groaned in pain and let out a slew of curses.

“Are you crazy?” Marus asked. “What were you doing earlier going for that gun? They could have killed you.”

“No, they wanted to take me alive.” Reinhart replied nonchalantly. “They had no intention of shooting me.”

“Fine, but it was still a risky move.” Marcus noted. “You got lucky as hell.”

A few yards away, Akira was checking on Kiki to make sure she was alright. His concern though was entirely unfounded. She didn’t have a scratch on her. Hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“It looks like you can do a little more than you let on.” Akira frowned at her.

“I wasn’t really sure that would work.” She replied sheepishly.

“These ID badges are obvious forgeries.” Brock announced, huffing and puffing, trying to calm down after the fight. He kept a firm knee on top of the Russian officer as he examined one.

“Wait, where did the other one go?” Marcus asked, suddenly realizing that they had only accounted for five of the six imposter MPs that had entered the hangar.

“He’s gone.” Reinhart replied. “The design blueprints for the Maser are gone, along with some of the technical notes. He must have used all of the commotion to make off with them.”

The group collectively heard a noise, and all turned to see Admiral Malek standing there with a cup of coffee. He was studying the fallout from the brawl, eyeing the bloodied military policemen who were still strewn about the floor. Malek quietly looked over at Marcus with a scowl, as if to demand an explanation. Akira worried about Kiki being seen, but she had already ducked behind one of the Masers to avoid Malek’s notice.

“They’re Russians sir!” Marcus began to explain. “They are KGB agents who were attempting to kidnap Dr. Stiener and the Maser blueprints.”

“Yes, I caught that part.” Malek replied. “And it seems that they succeeded.” He sat down his coffee and went to pick up the pistol from the ground. Brock brought up the KGB captain to his knees. Marcus dragged one of other imposters next to him. “You boys managed to fight them to a standstill…?” Malek noted with some surprise. “Good job. I’m going to have a little chat with the head of base security though.”

“This one is dead.” Marcus reported, checking his pulse. He had been the man the mechanic hit in the head with his wrench at the beginning of the fight. He had bled out from a cracked skull.

“I can’t say with certainly from here, but I’m pretty sure the one I put down with the knife is gone too.” Brock added, still holding onto the Russian captain.

“This one is just out.” Akira said, referring to the one Kiki had subdued. He dragged him over and sat him next to the other survivors.

“This guy is alive, but most likely wishes he wasn’t.” The brawny mechanic dragged the last bloodied man to the other survivors.

“Let them go.” Malek ordered. Everyone in the group looked over to him, not certain they had heard him correctly. “Let them go.” He repeated calmly. Brock released the KGB captain and allowed him to get to his feet. The officer eyed Admiral Malek, unsure what was going on. “It’s ok, you’re free to leave.” Malek gestured towards the door. The KBG captain helped the still dazed, blood-faced man to his feet with his good arm and then together they picked up the third unconscious man. Slowly, they made their way to the exit. Malek just watched them go. Marcus did not understand what was happening and was getting angry.

Suddenly, Admiral Malek raised his pistol and gunned down all three of the Russians from behind. The shots made everyone in the room jump in surprise.

“The Geneva Convention does not apply to spies.” Malek declared coldly. “In particular, spies who have been successful.” He added. “Let the record reflect that they were killed while trying to escape.” Malek said setting the pistol down on a table. Marcus and Brock both just stood there shocked. They didn’t know what to do. Malek turned to Akira. “Tell your superiors to lock down the base and search the area. Most likely that little Russian shit has already made his get-away, but if we can recover that information, I want it back.” Akira did speak. He only nodded in understanding. “This nonsense has put us behind. Those Masers will be needed on the battlefield by 0800 hours tomorrow. Clean yourselves up and then get back to work.” Malek ordered before grabbing his coffee and walking away.

The door closed behind Malek, and the hangar was as silent as a grave. No one knew quite what to say after what had just happened. Marcus decided to take charge and get things moving. Malek was correct, the priority had to be to get the Mazers up and running. They were vital to the coming operation. Actual military police came in to collect the bodies of the dead Russians and remove them from the hangar. After that, Marcus and Brock pitched in to help assemble the weapons as best they could.



By 0700 hours the next morning, all three Masers were assembled, serviced, and ready to go. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been any time to test fire them. So, the Masers would indeed have to be christened in the field. The crews got their orders to move out, and that was that. The engines were started up and they rolled out. Marcus was just coming out of his makeshift barracks around that time and saw the huge vehicles moving. The green and silver behemoths were impressive. Marcus only hoped they performed a good as they looked.

As the Masers all crossed the road, Marcus resumed his walk towards his waiting helicopter. He was having a bad morning. His muscles were sore from the fight last night, the morning air was very cold, both of his fists hurt from landing punches, he hadn’t gotten enough sleep, and the sleep he had gotten was on the hard floors of the airport terminal. Putting in the extra work helping Dr. Stiener didn’t help either. Marcus was simply tired, sore, and cranky. He put on his helmet and lowered the sun visor, despite the fact that there was no sun out yet. In fact, the whole area was overcast and wasn’t likely to see any sunlight for quite some time. Marcus simply didn’t want to interact with anyone, and he could avoid eye contact that way. He just climbed into the cockpit and did his pre-flight system checks.

One by one, his passengers arrived. Marcus greeted none of them. Brock climbed in next to him and also wasn’t feeling chatty. He had bags under his eyes and obviously hadn’t slept well either. Marcus never had gotten around to asking Brock what was going on with him before the fight broke out, but that moment certainly wasn’t the time or place to do so. However, whatever it was, it very likely was contributing to his surly disposition.

Japanese Sabers were starting to launch from a nearby runway. The repetitive passing of their whiny, high-pitched engines one after another was getting on Marcus’ nerves. He just wanted to take off so he could get away from it. Marcus shifted in his chair stretching out his back trying to ignore them. Finally, Admiral Malek arrived, and they could proceed toward the Japanese defensive line near the coast.

Marcus waited for Malek to get buckled in and then immediately took off. Seeing the admiral brought back flashes of the incident from the night before. What happened wasn’t right, but who could he go to about it? It wasn’t like Malek was just a common soldier who had gotten out of line, he was at the top of the chain of command. There wasn’t anyone who outranked him in the entire fleet, and from a technical standpoint, he was arguably justified. Those men had been spies. Still, the whole ordeal didn’t sit well with Marcus.

Marcus’ helicopter passed over the Masers as they rumbled down the road. The massive machines had been joined by a number of escorting Japanese jeeps, which really demonstrated just how big they were compared to normal sized miliary hardware. After the Russian espionage, security had been tightened across the board. Any number of hostile foreign governments would be happy to see this mission to fail and Anguirus to continue to tear up the Japan’s eastern coast.

A squadron of Japanese fighters thundered pass the helicopter towards the defensive line. It surprised Marcus a little bit. He hadn’t heard them coming. He suddenly remembered that they were heading towards genuine danger. With all of the many distractions of the last twenty-four hours, the very real threat Anguirus posed suddenly shot back to the top of Marcus’ list of priorities. Off in the near distance, Marcus could see the city of Miyazaki. If this defensive effort failed, the citizens there would be the ones pay the price.

Marcus soon found a landing zone for the helicopter located nearby the front line. The group would have to cut through a short mountain trail to get to the ridge, but it wasn’t too far. After they landed, Marcus looked at his watch. It was 0730 hours. They were playing a game of beat the clock to get the Masers to the battle line on time.



“Ok, I just want to make sure I got all of my facts straight….” Captain Hillard remarked. “How the hell did a ninety-pound Japanese girl knock out a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound Russian soldier?” Marcus and Hillard were walking ahead of the rest of the group on the path towards the highway so Malek wouldn’t hear the conversation. The mechanic had spilled the beans about Kiki’s involvement in the fight.

“Perhaps it was a nerve pinch…?” Marcus lied. He didn’t know how Kiki had actually managed to incapacitate the man, but he knew darn well it wasn’t that. Somehow, he felt it was smart to downplay Kiki’s role in what happened and to shrug it off. Hillard just stared at him, waiting to hear a better answer.

“Seriously…?” He finally said when one didn’t materialize.

“She’s stronger than she looks.” Brock chimed in from behind, catching up with them. Marcus felt there was something more to what Brock said but didn’t want to carry on the conversation and further around Hillard. For the moment, Captain Hillard let it be.

The mountain trail had ended, and the group found themselves at the center of the Japanese defense line. The Japanese had placed tanks, jeeps with cannons attached, and artillery all up and down the road, leaving space in the back lane for the Masers to get into place. The Masers had not yet arrived, however. The line extended from the road cut out of the rockface all of the way onto a nearby bridge that spanned across a wide chasm.

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Marcus and Brock walked up to the guard rail which overlooked the sea. The landscape was quiet and peaceful. Below, more Japanese units were getting organized on the beach. The mountain highway simply couldn’t accommodate all of the vehicles and it would be foolish to over-crowd the road in the event they needed to move out in a hurry. Shouting from the Japanese defenders brought their attention back to the ocean.

On the water, what looked like a mountain full of spikes was rising out of the sea. It had to be Anguirus. The thorny mound advanced closer towards the coast until the monster’s head popped up into view. Anguirus greeted the Japanese army with his honking, bellowing, roar. The Japanese sprang into action getting their heavy weapons ready. The soldiers trained their guns towards the oncoming threat. The Masers still had yet to arrive. Marcus looked at his watch, Anguirus had arrived at 0745 hours. Earlier than anticipated. He only hoped there was still time.

Anguirus continued to approach the coastline until he was only shin deep in the water. At that point, he noticed the Japanese defenders dotting the highway. Anguirus stopped to take in their numbers, but the surge of water he left in his wake rushed onwards. It spilled up and over the beachhead. The tidal wave continued onwards until it hit against the base of the mountain and splashed up towards the overpass. The bridge’s durability was tested, but it held strong.

Marcus, Brock, and many of the defenders on the highway got soaked by the chilly seawater as it splashed up onto the road, but they fared much better than the men below on the beach. Some of the tanks and other units were smashed against the rocks at the base of the ridge, others were simply pushed around and out of position. The remainder were completely swept away by the current and out to sea. Many of the soldiers were forced to abandon their vehicles as water filled them up. The overall result was the bottom detachment of defenders were already in complete disarray and effectively out of the fight.

Anguirus meanwhile held his position. He’d noticed the Sabre fighters flying over the mountains. He watched them for a moment, distracted. By that point, Anguirus was pretty used to fighters buzzing down at him and attacking. He was curious as to why they were not this time. The planes were being held back as a reserve, only to engage if the primary attacks by ground units were unsuccessful. Anguirus got moving again, threatening the defensive line.

Akira was in overall command of the fighters and was watching the chaos unfolding on the beach. His instincts were telling him to attack to cover retreat of the men on the shoreline, but those weren’t his orders. Just as he was starting to get frustrated, he spotted something that renewed his hope. The Masers were making their way up the mountain road to join the rest of the defenders. Akira decided to do a flyby over Anguirus to buy them just a little more time to get into position. Anguirus had no means to attack his jets from afar, so there was no risk in doing it.

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Akira flew in aggressively, dipping down low so there was no possibility of Anguirus ignoring him. The monster certainly did take notice of Akira and the planes following him, though he wasn’t particularly threated by them. Anguirus paused, roaring up at the fighters. He was more so annoyed than anything. As the fighters passed over him, Anguirus splashed around in the water, sending torrents of water up at the aircraft. Curiously, he didn’t notice any snaps, crackles, or pops. The planes had not fired upon him like usual and Anguirus couldn’t understand why. He turned slightly and watched the Sabres arch their way back up towards the clouds.

After the fighters had gone, Anguirus got on the move again. However, by that point, the Masers had reached their positions in the line and were deploying their impressive cannons. Anguirus saw the silver machines and didn’t know what to make of them. They were something he hadn’t seen before. Anguirus wasn’t concerned though. He was rearing for a fight now.

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The tanks and artillery opened fire on Anguirus. Their volleys bounced off or exploded harmlessly as usual. Then the first Maser opened fire. The bolt of energy it unleashed stuck Anguirus in the left shoulder. The force of it caught Anguirus off guard and obliged him to take notice. There was no visible damage to the monster’s armored scales, but the jolt was obviously painful. A second volley came from another Maser. This shot hit the armored back of Anguirus where his protection was even thicker. It still got his attention, but it clearly had less impact. One thing was certain, Anguirus was mad now. He charged the coast, more determined than ever.

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Marcus and Brock felt the heat from the Masers as they fired. There was a lot of power being unleashed by the weapons. The whole area lit up around them when they fired. The cannons themselves surged with light and energy as they unleashed their blue energy bolts. It was an impressive sight.

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Out in the water, Anguirus was not having a fun time. The electrical nature of the Maser attacks were amplified even further by the fact that he was dripping wet and still ankle deep in water. His advance had lost a lot of its initial steam. The Masers were hammering Anguirus over and over again. One strike hit him in the face, and Anguirus came to a complete stop. His front paw kneaded at his nose. For a moment, it looked as though Anguirus was considering turning around. His armor was offering next to no protection from the withering fire of the Masers. He simply wasn’t used to taking such a beating.

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Just as it seemed that the defenders had turned the tide of the battle, one of the Masers abruptly stopped firing. The crew was scrambling around to identify what had gone wrong. There was apparently some type of mechanical issue with the weapon’s firing mechanism. Dr. Steiner was on hand and rushed over to see what the issue was, fearing sabotage. There was smoke starting to pour out of the back part of the Maser’s chassis. Dr. Steiner took a look and quickly determined that that primary conduction cord had burnt out due to the continuous firing of the weapon. It was not sabotage; the problem was simply a technical issue.

Because the Masers were rushed into service, they hadn’t had enough time to test the durability of the weapon system components under stress. They had simply fired the weapon so many times consecutively that the conductor overheated and burnt out. This news was actually worse than sabotage because it meant that the other two Maser units had the same defect with their firing mechanisms, and they didn’t have any spare parts on hand to fix them on the spot. Dr. Stiener tried to warn the crews of the other two Masers to slow down their rate of fire, but it was already too late. The second Maser’s cannon fell silent as its conductor also burnt out.

Out in the water, Anguirus had taken notice of the decreased amount of punishment he was taking and renewed his advance. He was keen to inflict some damage of his own. Only the third Maser unit was still fighting him now and it just wasn’t enough to stop him. Predictably, the final Maser burnt out its conductor as well due to its crew desperately trying to hold Anguirus off alone. The Japanese defenders were as good as defenseless now.

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“Damned German Engineering…!” Brock cursed. “All it really amounts to is expensive and temperamental!” He grabbed Marcus’ arm and pulled him away from the railing, preparing to retreat back towards the helicopter. The whole defensive line was thrown into a panic. Anguirus was about three hundred yards away and closing fast.

Marcus sensed something and stopped, looking up to the sky. Brock was shouting at him to get moving again, but Marcus wasn’t hearing him. The cloud bank overlooking the mountain top split open and Mothra came gliding down through the opening. She refrained flapping her wings whatsoever and floated down onto the mountain top for a perfect landing. Mothra’s tiny little legs were very strong and took hold at the top peak. Mothra came to a halt there, overlooking the defense line and Anguirus.

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Anguirus ceased his advance and took stock of the situation. The two monsters faced off and stared each other down. Mothra made the first move, calling to Anguirus in a series of non-aggressive chirps and squeaks. Anguirus called back with his deep-toned honks. Sunlight was pouring through the break in the cloud cover behind Mothra. Marcus got excited and yelled up to Mothra like a grade-schooler cheering on his favorite sports team. Brock looked at him embarrassed, but even he couldn’t disregard the majestic aura that Mothra was giving off with her beautiful wings. She was a sight to behold. Anguirus hesitated to engage and Mothra just held her position in return on the mountain top. It looked like a standoff. Mothra and Anguirus continued to chatter back and forth.

“Mothra could tear up her wings in the melee with Anguirus.” Brock shouted to Marcus over the sound of the monsters. “But Anguirus has no defense against Mothra’s dust. Do you think that’s what holding them back?” He asked. Marcus just watched for a moment. Then something very unexpected happened. Anguirus backed off. He turned and withdrew back into the deep water of the ocean. There would be no fight between the two titans. “Is Anguirus punking out?” Brock asked confused.

“No… I don’t think that’s it.” Marcus replied. “This might sound strange, but I think it’s respect.”

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mpsoldier
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by mpsoldier »

Set during the events of this stories Chapter 22: Birds of Prey. Rodan is attacking Japan and the evacuation order has been given to parts of Japan while the aerial Kaiju spars with the Japanese air force.


Ichika Tanaka stood with her dozen or so Seatopian brothers and sisters; joining in their exuberant cheers.
“Yes my people; SEATOPIA shall RISE with the FALL of Japan! From the ashes of this countries cremation shall Seatopia be fertilized and spread throughout the WORLD!!!” Emperor Antonio screeched, raising his cheap toy sword in victory. Around him the imperious forces of Seatopia also hefted their own weapons aloft. This consisted of a battered early model Arisaka rifle that looked to have weathered the entirety of the Great war (by itself), an elderly Murata rifle freshly looted from the local high school, a Kyudo bow stolen from same, an old Tetsubo taken off someone's mantle, an apparently black powder revolver, a broken and pitted Sasumata, and a short knife more likely to see service as a letter opener then in actual combat. Despite this supremely modest arsenal the Seatopian forces were already certain of victory; especially given that their “target” was an already evacuated village unlikely to put up much (or any) resistance.
“I hereby claim the village as the new Capital of the Kingdom of Seatopia! Its verdant fishery shall sustain us as we rebuild our GLORIOUS Empire!” Emperor Antonio continued. Ichika smiled and nodded; wondering for the 100th time how a man with as Spanish a name as “Antonio” had ended up Emperor of an Undersea Metropolis currently residing in Japan. “The TREASURES of this town shall enrich our treasury, bringing us to new heights of economic prosperity!” Antonio yelled in exhalation, tossing a handful of dirty nickels into the air as if illustrating their new found wealth. All around him the Royal Seatopian dancers spun pirouettes in their hideously ugly transparent over capes and bizarrely white leather boots. How did you even get white leather in post war Japan?
“And it is all thanks to my leadership and the spectacular work of our Royal Spymaster; who stole the enemies ULTIMATE WEAPON right out from under them!” Antonio whipped off the much stained table cloth of his wheelbarrow unveiling...Jet Jaguar.


The crowd gave a gasp as the glory of Jet Jaguar was at last revealed to them. Its...unique...colour palette had been polished to a glossy shine, gleaming in the daylight. Its...strange... face was pulled up in a weirdly creepy grin. Ichika beamed with pride. It had been her spying that had discovered Jet Jaguar, and her skill that had cunningly stolen the instruction manual that had taught Antonio how to bend the metal monster to his will. With the raw power of Jet Jaguar added to the Seatopian nation victory was assured. Antonio fiddled with the stolen meter long, meter wide control panel; the dizzying array of lights and knobs apparently doing something. Sure enough, Jet Jaguar slowly rose from the wheelbarrow with a series of violent, almost painfully inhuman movements. Another minute or so or fiddling, and the multi coloured Robot flashed them a sort of thumbs up hand signal in that the thumb was indeed up (as well as most of the other fingers). The Seatopians roared in approval at the gesture.
“Now MY ROBOT; lead our GLORIOUS ATTACK and USHER IN A BOLD NEW AGE!!!” Antonio raved and gesticulated wildly in the towns general direction. With a loud squeal of imprecisely measured joints (and an accidental motion of his robot hand that shattered the nose of the Assistant Head Warlord of the Seatopian Army) Jet Jaguar jerked clumsily forward and began the attack on the town. The Seatopian forces bellowed their joy as they too began rushing down the hill to follow their champion...


It was glorious, more glorious then Ichika had even dared dream. (And given her Schizophrenia diagnosis, Ichika was known for some pretty crazy dreams). The months of “secret meetings” with the forces of Seatopia in the old disused privy were suddenly worth it; the hours of desperate stealing of pencils and random junk to fuel the Seatopian “war machine” were now just an unpleasant memory. Ichika let out a roar of triumph and hefted her broken stick high as she and the other Seatopians followed their Invincible Robot to victory...


It took a few moments; but slowly the horrible truth dawned on her and the other Seatopians. Jet Jaguar was not running down the hill (even if one chose to believe its jerky, uncoordinated, almost random series of motions that pushed it slowly forward in a general direction counted as a run). Jet Jaguar was falling down the hill. Slowly at first, then with greater and greater speed as momentum and gravity took hold, Jet Jaguar careened and bounced head over heels down the slope. An arm popped off as it smashed into a particularly solid rock, its leg bending wildly at a positively inhuman angle as it rammed into the town sign. The Seatopians watched, their triumphant cries fading and then ceasing altogether as their Champion positively disintegrated before their very eyes. Screws, bolts, and random metal debris flew through the air, wires and duct tape trailing in its wake. A plume of smoke erupted from its poorly chosen red coloured rear, filling the air with acrid smoke. When what was left of it reached the bottom of the hill and at last came to a stop a sharp sound of metal tearing was heard for a few seconds. It seemed as if the robot itself was weeping. And then it spectacularly exploded; an arm, a leg and what was left of the torso suddenly shooting apart in a hail of shrapnel that had the Seatopian forces diving for cover as pieces of their champion rained upon them.


And as abruptly as the Seatopian attack had began it ended; the formerly eager warriors of the Undersea kingdom now crying and whimpering as they clutched suddenly bleeding extremities and held onto their ears as the surrounding mountains cupped and reflected the explosion back at them. Little actually remained of Jet Jaguar, save for a long ribbon of data tape wrapped around a tree; flying morosely in the breeze as if from tattered medieval standard.


The Seatopians stood there in bafflement as the last pieces of their saviour rained upon them. On top of the hill Emperor Antonio let out a cry; then literally fell onto his face sobbing bitter tears. No one said anything, no one did anything, as the former inhabitants of the Cherry tree care facility (/Seatopian secret society) stood staring dumbly at one another.


No one knows how long they would have stood there in stupefied shock but outside events overtook them. Miles away an irritated Rodan heard the reflected explosion and suddenly shifted course over the largely evacuated country side to investigate the sound.


They heard the Sky Lords cry from miles away; yet even so their confused minds had barely even registered the sound before Rodan was practically among them. The Seatopians looked up in bewilderment as suddenly the sun was literally blocked out by the titanic bulk of the flying monster.


Rodan circled the group; the Seatopians (never particularly bright people) simply stood and stared. Emperor Antonio broke the standoff.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Antonio suddenly burst out laughing; throwing his head back and giving an evil cackle of glee. “We mistook Jet Jaguar for our Saviour; when in fact he was but the Prophet!” Antonio gestured grandly towards Rodan. “LOOK! THERE! THERE!” He swept his arms open wide, even that gesture failing to adequately convey the positively Biblical wing span of Rodan. “Here is our Saviour! Here is the death of Japan! Here is the birth of Seatopia! The death of Jet Jaguar summoned our TRUE master! Bow, Seatopians! Bow and worship!” Emperor Antonio dropped to the ground, prostrating himself humbly before Rodan. The other Seatopians; catching their leaders fervour and meaning, did as well.


Rodan continued to circle the group warily; thoroughly confused at what he saw. He was used to the humans fleeing from him, hiding from him, sometimes attacking him in their silly metal birds. But he had never seen humans just talk to him before. It was a strange, surreal experience for the Kaiju, one far removed from the processing of his largely instinctual brain.


“Yes! Yes! Rodan SEES us! Rodan HEARS us! Rodan LISTENS to us!” Antonio raved as he bowed and gesticulated and in general made a spectacle of himself. “Great RODAN! Continue your flight of death! DESTROY Japan! Makes its cities BURN, and from the ashes, Seatopia shall rise, raised aloft on your glorious, Heavenly wings!”


Rodan made a strange confused chirp to himself; a sound he rarely made. The humans were indeed not cowering, or hiding, nor did this seem like some kind of trap. They actually were calling to him, intentionally getting his attention.


“Strike Tokyo! Burn Kyoto! Let the false Emperor burn; his flaming effigy a portent of my own GREATNESS!” Emperor Antonio jumped to his feet. “Rise my people! Rise! Perform with me, the Seatopian dance of JOY!”


Rodan watched in increasing confusion the bizarre display of the humans below. Its mind could not quite understand what it was seeing. A second, louder chirp of confusion followed, as for one of the first times in it’s Millennia long life he was truly baffled.


An almost human like shrug shook Rodan’s massive wings, its brain simply failing to comprehend what it was seeing. Then another shrug followed. Humans were simply unfathomable sometimes.


Fittingly Emperor Antonio was the first one devoured. Rodan simply landed and scooped up the strangely moving morsel with his great beak, swallowing him whole. It took a few devourings, but the unusual human pests eventually did begin the screaming and yelling that they usually did whenever they spotted Rodan. It didn’t help them much; the Kaiju had seen each one and they’d allowed him to land in their midst. Their could be no escape for them.


Ichika was the last one left. She didn’t know what to do. Her world had been turned upside down; her already unhinged mind simply unable or unwilling to process what was going on. So she just stood there; beholding the horror, unable to cry, unable to run. The great beast turned towards her; and for a moment their eyes met.


She saw age in those eyes; and wisdom. Those eyes had seen the world in ages past and likely would see it ages into the future. How old was Rodan? Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, millions of years? From a culture that venerated their ancestors, the concept that she was in the presence of something that had been old when the mountains were new was humbling. The Great beast was terrifying and yet had its own beauty. Its size bespoke majesty, perhaps even as much as the Divine. For a woman starving for reason and purpose like Ichika; a face to face encounter with Rodan simply put her in pure awe.


They stared at one another, old eyes looking into young. Human into Kaiju. Woman into monster. Rodan moved then, a wing shifting, rubbing its stomach. A signal to Ichika? Some kind of gesture?


Rodan spoke then...sort of. A literal metric ton of gas, spittle, and pieces of her friends shot out of Rodan’s beak. Ichika was literally blown off her feet by the force. Rodan continued to rub his stomach, still staring...


With the force of a quart of dynamite exploding; multiple tons of whale, human, fish and even a partially digested Zero cockpit shot out of Rodan’s rear. The great Kaiju let out an anguished cry as the largest, most spectacular defecation to ever take place in Japan continued unabated.


When it was finally over long minutes later, Rodan shook his wings to remove all the fecal matter his diarrhea had deposited on them. Ichika was again knocked over, this time by a quasi digested section of whale as big as her hip as well as enough liquid excrement to literally drown a small animal.
Rodan paused, looking at the girl once more as she struggled to rise. Their eyes met once more, the enormous Kaiju seeming to consider the human for a few moments. Then it rose into air, surprisingly gently for such an enormous creature. A few wing beats and it was lazily off.


“Yes Rodan. I understand. I hear and obey.” Ichika said with as much dignity and gravity as she could muster, dipping into a grateful bow to the Kaiju. Considering she was up to her thigh in excrement, it was not a good choice.


The End?

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Ashram52
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by Ashram52 »

There’s definitely a couple of good laughs in there. :lol:

I’m glad you straight away pointed out the ridiculousness of the Seatopian monarch’s name being ‘Antonio’. I’ve always found that kinda funny. I don’t recall them ever saying it in the film, but I do recall reading that being his name somewhere. Maybe if it was something more Greek sounding it would make sense given the collection of Atlantis ancient and Greek folklore. But then again, that whole train of throught gets derailed the moment you’re talking Seatopians since their home is located on the opposite side of the globe.

In any case, it’s certainly not the only thing that’s odd about the Seatopians as a culture. I think you lampooned them pretty throughly in this short story. We already covered the utter insanity of a giant insectoid monster being the protector of an underwater kingdom. I’m pretty sure I already told you my own pet theory on that one too. :Megalon:

Anyhow, good work. This was a fun read.
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mpsoldier
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Re: Godzilla: Tactical Assault.

Post by mpsoldier »

Thanks. I worked hard on it. In a way I was paying homage to your work too. You talked about how Mothra being see may have been real, or it may have been a hallucination. In the same way I have the scene with Ichika and Rodan. Does Rodan feel mercy? Does Rodan communicate with her? Does he sense kinship or empathy? Or was Rodan just thinking "man, I ate something I really shouldn't have. Oh, gonna go lay down." Or does he simply decide not to eat something literally dripping in his own waste? Its DEEP; or it isn't deep in the slightest. Depends on how you want to take it. Yeah I lampooned the Seatopian's hard; but I hope brought a smile to all the old school Godzilla fans. I had another idea for a short story that fits in with your longer narrative, this one more serious. Or at least relatively serious. Just a short scene highlighting some lesser used Countries.

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