2 comments/ 20735 views/ 2 favorites UFO By: brunorivera My name is Dijan and I am a pilot of the air force of the Republic of Gorania. I was recruited at my university, and thanks to my progress in my engineering career, I was saved from being drafted as a foot soldier. The transition to the electronic systems of the combat airplanes was easy, but soon I was interested in flight itself. Also, if I learned to control a supersonic jet, I was assured of a promotion. My results in simulated flights were already very promising, but shortly before making my solo flight for the certification, a war due to a territorial dispute with a neighboring country, the Republic of Kishavia, began. Even so, I earned my promotion to lieutenant thanks to the national emergency and I got certified in the middle of combat. While a truck drove us to the airfield from which my squadron would operate, my comrades and I studied the manuals as quickly as possible. We memorized controls and formulas and even mimicked difficult maneuvers. In peace time, these activities would seem comic. But since we are at war, now it is for real. Upon arriving to the hangar, we were fell in as the military discipline dictates while the colonel assigned the airplanes to us. The jets were not very new, but were very powerful, and at the beginning, they had good maintenance. During the first missions, we were identified only by the name of the squadron and a number; I was Eagle 14. The non-commissioned personnel gave us uniforms, helmets, oxygen masks and other gear. Usually, there was only space for a 9-millimeter automatic pistol with 15 rounds, among maps, emergency rations and first-aid kits. Soon the siren sounded and we ran toward our airplanes in order to start them and take off as quickly as possible. The first mission was simple: air support to a platoon that was pinned down by armored vehicles and artillery fire. The enemy was poorly prepared for an air attack and was swept with air-to-surface missiles and machine gun fire. The difficult part was to clear an escape route for the troops, since there were enemy patrols that attacked using guerrilla tactics and there was the risk of hitting our boys trying to defend them with our machine guns and bombs. Due to the hurry of our first deployment, the fuel didn't last and we had to return to the base. One of our planes received an impact, but it landed safe and sound, so we didn't lose a single pilot. Not bad for a squadron of beginners. The colonel reviewed the recordings of the mission and pointed out serious mistakes, especially to the poor pilot that was shot. Even so, our spirits were high. This lasted almost a week, since they hardly activated us, and when they did, it was for reconnaissance flights and we did not even have to fire a shot. Unfortunately, when High Command interpreted the aerial photographs and other information, they decided that a serious danger hung over the Eagle Squadron. Kishavia had started a comprehensive rearming program and it posed a great challenge to our control over the air along the border in dispute. It goes without saying that the air superiority was a crucial piece so that our government could take control of the land in question, so the terrestrial mobilization would be more effective. What we feared most finally happened: The first enemy squadrons were spotted, and it was necessary to draw from all our know-how and even any dirty trick that we could use in order to counterattack the opposing aviation. Now we would separate the "boys" from the "men" in equal-to-equal air combat. I excelled at maneuvering closer to the enemies than the rest of my squadron, and so I used machine guns mostly, since the air-to-air missile might seem easy, but aiming it takes too much time so that the onboard computer locks on the target, and meanwhile, we were vulnerable to a sneak attack. The really difficult thing about close combat is the risk of colliding with another airplane, so it is necessary to make sharp turns in order to avoid as quickly as possible. I preferred the missile when we achieved radar contact with the enemy before having it near, and that lapse, in supersonic flight, is of a few seconds; after that, all pandemonium breaks loose, with airplanes of any side criss-crossing between one another at full speed. Thus we lost most of the squadron, especially beginners, cowards and aviators who believed that they would be above the average fighting man. My ability won me a position as second-in-command, not only for flying better and killing more enemies than any other pilot, even than the colonel, but for my somewhat deeper knowledge about the allied and enemy war machines. When I was not in the air, I shared a lot with the hangar personnel, and I even made modifications to my airplane. Other pilots consulted their problems with me, especially in flight, and as long as an enemy airplane was not on my tail, I instructed them about how to manipulate the onboard computer to correct some flaws, due to a hit or other mechanical failures. Then we earned new nicknames, according to the very particular style of flying of each pilot: mine was Ace, Joker, or WildCard. It was necessary to change it frequently in order to confuse the enemy eavesdropping into our frequencies, or at least, make them believe that we are more and to frighten them. Amid an air battle, something unusual happened: a super-airplane, it had to come from outer space, moved surprisingly quickly into our air space, attacking airplanes of both sides. My colonel was shot down and I desperately parlayed with the enemy squadron's flight leader for a cease-fire to face a greater threat. He consented to the truce and concerted a plan: the airplanes that remained in flight took distance and formed a phalange, kind of a firing squad, in order to launch our missiles against the alien craft. "3..." "2..." "1..." "Fire!" Most of the projectiles strayed and the few that hit were unable to cause significant damage. Then, the infernal machine pursued us and shot down each airplane, sometimes, more than one at a time. I tried to move closer for one of my characteristic attacks, but my controls became stiff. I typed commands so the computer could compensate, and I was hardly able to remain in flight. I fired, but if missiles didn't make a dent on such an impenetrable structure, I could not expect much from mere bullets. Any way, the alien ship hit me, or rather, it pushed me with unexpected gentleness. But the damage was already done: my onboard computer shut down and the controls became impossible. The internal forces prevented me from reaching the lever in order to eject, and also, I could send myself directly toward the ground, for the dizziness and disorientation that I felt. When I was able to glide, I was already too close to the ground and I only had time for a crash landing. I didn't dare to take out the landing gear, because any unexpected irregularity in the terrain would overturn the airplane. The impact was severe, but my safety belt and my helmet and even my oxygen mask protected me from serious injury. But the bruises that the abrupt braking produced prevented me from moving for a few minutes. Then, my fear was that the fuel would explode and burn me to death. So I took out my gun and fired away at the glass of my cockpit to break it and break out quickly. If the enemy patrols didn't listen to the din of my airplane upon crashing, they would not be interested in hearing my gunshots. The suit protected me from cuts with glass and metal fragments, but not from the pain of falling on stones upon losing balance. I wept real tears, because I already felt that I would die anyhow. I wandered under the burning sun and I found some of the aircraft who came with me during the accident. Nobody else survived. I took along as much as I could carry, food rations, maps, bandages and bullets for my gun. I even discovered that one of the airplanes came equipped with a conversion kit to deploy a projectile from land, but that would not be of any use for me. I also took an assault rifle that another pilot was able to accommodate in his compartment. The enemy maps were quite difficult to interpret, and the only thing that they revealed to me was that I fell deep inside the enemy lines. While I advanced toward my lines, the possibility of bumping into an enemy soldier increased. I insisted on walking during the night, fearing being captured or killed, but the sleep and the hunger made it hard for me. I hid as well as I could to rest, and then, the nightmares about the whole incident didn't allow me to sleep. On the following day, I realized that I turned back during the night as much as I was able to advance during the previous day, but I continued and I even allowed myself to walk in circles. I was only interested in finding anything to eat or drink. At dusk, my worst fear was confirmed: a small group of Kishavian soldiers walked the area around me. I realized that, on land, I am only a coward, because I was not going to face a handful of men with rifles in better conditions that the one that I carried. I scurried between rocks and bushes, not wanting to be seen, but a voice emphasized to me the futility of my effort. Somebody screamed: "Enemy in sight!" And the most bestial and chaotic shoot-out that I had ever witnessed broke loose, even worse than against that space ship. But I noticed that I was not reached by a single bullet, and I soon understood why: a patrol from my country engaged the enemies. I wanted to move toward my people, but the other guys were in the way, so I didn't give signs of even being there. I climbed a little to achieve better visibility and I saw that both units annihilated each other. Again, I became the only witness of another ferocious battle. I did not even plunder the bodies, fearing that one might be alive and he would try to kill me. It almost escaped me, but I observed a female soldier, very young and even pretty, with uniform and insignia of the Kishavian army, her rank was sergeant. She moved away, even quicker than I did. I got distracted and I slid down from my observation point to the floor. She was startled upon hearing the noise of my fall, but she ventured to investigate. When she saw me, she could not recognize my uniform, because I kept tearing up badges to use them as improvised bandages and my uniform was already discolored. Even so, she surmised that I outranked her and stood in attention to salute me very nervously: "Sergeant Marjena, 127 Recon, Sir!" I quickly thought of a Kishavian version of my own name to identify myself: "Lieutenant D'Jeng here, WildCat Squadron! At ease, sergeant." This was the name of the squadron with which I battled against that extraterrestrial ship. The sergeant gave a sigh of relief but she remained restless. She recommended me: "Permission to move away from here, Sir. The Goranians could return in any moment." "Granted." We passed to another hill, which lay closer to my lines, but I didn't make any comment. I preferred to trust in her sense of direction. I offered her one of my cookie-shaped rations and she told me that she already had hers. We ate in silence, and in the evening, she showed me a good hiding place in which to spend the night. I told her: "Good night, Sergeant Marjena. Thank you and congratulations, you are an excellent Recon soldier." "Don't mention it, lieutenant. Good night." I imagined that she took it as a joke but I meant it. But I didn't want to start a debate, because the fatigue didn't allow me to. I slept a little better, but I kept waking up in the middle of the night, and I forgot that I had a new traveling companion and her presence surprised me again and again. I controlled my reaction the best that I could, and I urinated quickly, or simply, I turned around to sleep again. I did not even have the courage to take out my gun in order to eliminate her, and also, she was so beautiful that I thought of her as harmless, she being of the other side. The following day, she guided me according to the maps that I picked up previously, but I realized that we didn't go toward her lines. Upon inquiring about going the wrong way, she replied: "I don't plan to go toward my lines, Sir." "Then where?" "I'm going toward Betalia." "A neutral country? Why?" "Because I am not going to fight any more. Besides, I never carried a weapon and I don't plan to do so. Those of your kind should know that better than anybody, after all, officers as yourself bestowed this rank upon me without firing a shot." My face reflected millions of questions, but my lips couldn't even formulate the first one. Even so, she continued with her explanation: "You know well that they would not send an attractive woman as cannon fodder. In theory, they assigned me these and other riskier missions, but in practice, I could be excused if I pleased them with certain favors." "Sexual...?" "Didn't you know? You don't fool me. Look, lieutenant, I leave as a deserter or any way I can. If you want to stop me, you can only do it by shooting me in the back, because I am not going to do any more favors, neither to you nor to anybody, not even to the president, so go ahead, shoot me. I prefer to die than..." "Don't worry, I am not going to stop you. I cannot stand it anymore..." "The war?" "No, my own deceit. My true name is Dijan." "Oh, God...! You are Goranian! Now you will kill me as a war trophy." "No way! I need you in order to survive, and fleeing to some neutral country sounds much better than I thought until this moment." "And you, what atrocities did you have to endure? They could not be worse than those that I had to feel in my own flesh, how soldiers of all ranks satisfied their animal instincts with my body, as if that were my contribution to such a glorious war!" The young woman lost her composure and began to cry bitterly. On impulse, I wanted to hug her, but she pushed me away violently, making me realize that touching her was a serious mistake, after everything through which she had to go... I tried to calm her: "Look, young lady, forgive me, I won't do it again. Please, don't go away. I will go wherever you say and will do whatever you ask me to do, but please, don't cry anymore. I guarantee you that I will never take advantage of you." She stopped walking but she didn't stop crying. I signaled her to hide until she could calm down. When she quieted, she moved among the dead bodies and took some things from them, and she showed me the way to a creek, where we could refresh ourselves and hide our tracks. But we heard other military units, without distinguishing to which country they belonged. She told me: "If they are of your country, it will be better that you kill me now. If they are mine, you know that I will have to kill you." "I Understand. We both know that the prisoners of war are treated with cruelty." "Anyway, I prefer that you kill me you before they discover me, especially if they are mine." "All right, but for now, let's hide." We submerged where the current was a little turbulent, and so, the silhouette of our bodies was not easily distinguished. We had to hold on to the rocks and to each other's bodies to keep from being dragged by the current, and the fear made us scream sometimes, but the sound of the water concealed our voices a little. The patrol went away and we continued along a less dangerous bank. She mentioned again: "Lieutenant, I have thought it over, and if we could not escape, the best will be that we kill each other." I felt much pain in my heart, but I recognized that she was right. She even convinced me to rehearse how we would shoot each other, and she did not even flinch at the thought of my gun being loaded during the rehearsals. I was on the verge of tears and lowered my weapon and she I scolded me: "Lieutenant, do not lose your courage! I need you to end my suffering, in one way or another. Please..." She looked at me with tears in her eyes but she held her gun high. She repeated: "Help me with this..." I could not take it anymore and I hugged her. She fought against me, but not with so much intensity, and collapsed from so much sorrow. We cried together and I pressed her tightly against my chest. She, finally, stopped resisting and she returned my hug. She even looked for my bearded cheeks to kiss me. I accepted some of her caresses and I moved my lips so that hers would land on something softer than my facial hair. We fused our mouths and her tongue ventured into making contact with mine. My penis was aroused by the contact and I began to undress. She also removed her uniform and I dove into her beautifully round breasts. She wasn't hindered by the trauma of so many others who raped her previously and she welcomed me to her body. Not wanting to irritate her with my coarse hands or my beard, I used my tongue or my lips in a pout, and with such a subtle touch, I was able to travel over her beautiful body to arrive to her clitoris and give her an orgasm that cleared any bad memory that she had left. I was going to take out a condom from my uniform but she beat me to one, saying: "Take mine. We use them to protect the muzzles of our rifles upon crossing bodies of water." I kissed her in the mouth once again while I helped her put it on me. The touch of her hands, although rough from the voyage, stimulated me into maintaining my erection and I penetrated her easily. I pumped slowly at the beginning, but she hurried me, in case somebody approached. When she foresaw my ejaculation, she contracted her vaginal muscles and thus she shared my climax. Immediately, we dove in the water to let the stream take away the preservative along with our secretions. We looked for another hiding place to rest. Upon wishing each other good night, I asked her: "Forgive me, I made you relive what so many others they did to you." "No, not at all. You have been the first, the first to make love to me, the only one who has ever loved me. Now I understand why you didn't want to do the exercise." "Yes; I would never do anything to hurt you." "Not even if I am your enemy?" "We are already way beyond all that, even above the war. You and I are more than generals and presidents, we have already won this war together." "I love you!" "I love you too!" For the first time, there were no nightmares. But there was an incredible racket: it was the ship crashing nearby. I took Marjena by an arm and I made her run toward the impact zone. We had to leave the relative safety of the creek and return to stony land. I identified a crack through which we could go inside it, and for the first time, I closely saw the only aircraft that could defeat me. Much of the electronics still worked, although very erratic and unpredictably. Not everything appeared written in alien language, but it seemed that the computers have been learning our language. Speakers with radio communications of both countries in conflict could be heard, along with civilian radio stations with news of the war. In certain screens, radar images of diverse regions of both countries were alternated. The most undecipherable thing was the keyboards, those were marked with purely extraterrestrial symbols. I took several days comparing some symbols with others and seeing their effect in the screens. Apparently, their propulsion system was no longer operational, so the buttons didn't do more than change audio or video channels. Marjena was no longer troubled by her paranoia, and she pressed buttons as if this were a huge video arcade. She was the one who discovered how a crewmember could wash in this spacecraft. I was able to control doors and windows and I even sealed the crack through where we entered. Even so, we didn't suffocate inside, since we also discovered how to turn on the air conditioner. When we ate all the rations, we ventured to leave and pick up fruits and wild vegetables. The ship even showed us trails in their maps where the army squads of each side would not reach us. Little by little, diagrams began to appear that explained what repairs the ship needed in order to work again. In the beginning, my friend and I did too simple jobs without consequence, and I began to get frustrated for how little we had achieved. But she saw it philosophically, saying: UFO   It was New Year's Eve and Mitch Hargrove was hard at work, had been all evening driving his cab. Tonight he'd probably end up working until long after sunrise. Yeah, the hours were long but as long as the drunks kept calling, the tips would most likely be good. Mitch didn't mind drunks as long at they weren't the belligerent kind. He really had no patience with a belligerent drunk. Of course the threat of dropping them in the middle of nowhere usually calmed them some. New Year's Eve was a good time for Mitch to work since he was never much of a party person, his wife and young son were quiet and homey. She never even considered going out and hailing in the New Year and although she'd have preferred to spend the evening with Mitch, she was all too happy to just stay in and read by herself. Mitch could always use the extra money he earned, what with a toddler at home and his wife just now able to start thinking about getting back to work. They had some debt, but once both of them got back to working, they should clear that out quickly, even after paying for child care. Up ahead Mitch spotted someone hailing a cab and quickly pulled up along the curb. At first it looked like just two women, but at the last second a male friend slipped in beside them. Instead of heading them home, where he might have to make three stops, the three occupants wanted to head downtown to some club, where he dropped them off, collected the fare and got a sizeable tip. Folding the tip, he slipped that into one pocket while putting the rest of the fare into his little box. He then headed back out onto the street where he cruised up and down a four block by ten block strip of night club after night club. It was surprisingly early in the evening when he got his favorite type of fare, a UFO. When Mitch first stopped the car he didn't figure he'd land a UFO, it was a guy who actually hailed him, but as he reached back and opened the back door behind him he saw the guy help a woman into the car and then close the door behind him. He expected the guy to run around and climb in the other side, but instead he stepped up to the front door. Rolling down his window he heard the guy say, "Look my date here got a little too drunk and well, I didn't really want to leave the party this early." Mitch then heard another guy a few steps away add loudly, "And he's already found a replacement for her." "No, no don't listen to him. Look here's her address, if you could make sure she get's home safely, well here," he handed Mitch a fifty and then pulled out another one. "Look this first fifty should cover the fare... you keep the change, and here, here is another fifty for getting her there safe." Mitch read the address and replied, "No problem, thanks for the tip. But hey, will she be able to walk on her own?" "Her keys on in her purse, in a pocket on the side, can't you walk her in?" "I don't know, I mean..." "Look, here's another fifty for you to just try. If you can't get her inside, just leave her sitting on her front porch, someone's likely to find her," the guy said, handing him another fifty. Mitch nodded and said, "Don't worry." He put his vehicle in drive and pulled away. Normally he would have slipped the guy his card, but he didn't think it was such a good idea this time. He glanced into the back and saw his UFO sitting in the back seat, her head nodding as she tried to fight off falling asleep. He had to admit his UFO, or Unaccompanied Female Occupant was quite attractive. Mitch whispered to himself, "Oh little lady you must have been such a bitch for your boyfriend guy to try and run you off so quickly." He drove to within a few miles of the address on the slip of paper the guy handed him and then pulled into a dark alley way. He heard the woman in back mumble something but he ignored it as he stepped out of the car, went to his trunk, opened it and pulled out a piece of plastic sheeting that had been cut to about two feet by three feet. Opening the back door he held up a large knife, and after letting her see it he tucked into a sheath behind him. He then arranged the plastic on the car seat and grabbed her legs pulling them to him. "No, no," she began to scream. Mitch showed her the knife again and said, "You better shut up." He then reached up under her dress, grabbed her pantyhose and panties and quickly jerked them off of her. Kicking off he shoes, he pulled of his pants and underwear and placed them on the floor in front of the seat. Reaching to her legs, he held them open as he crawled into the back of the vehicle. When he noticed her staring at his face he said, "Stop looking at me," but when she continued, he slapped her face hard. Her head slumped back and he felt her body go limp. "I hope that didn't leave a mark," he whispered as he worked his cock into her pussy. She wasn't very wet, but it felt good anyway as he began thrusting into her and withdrawing. It got a bit easier as he continued, the wetness forming even though she was asleep. It didn't take him long before the pleasure shot though him and he arched his back and came, spurting his cum deep inside her. He then quickly pulled on his underwear, pants and shoes, and then tried to sit her up, gently closing the door behind him. He grabbed her panty hose and panties and dropped them into a nearby dumpster. Mitch then returned to his car, started the engine and eased out of the alleyway, making sure there was no one around to see him. Now all he had to do was get her to the address. If anyone asked he would say, this is the state she was in when the guy put her in the car. Fortunately, she stayed passed out as he drove her up to her apartment, went through her purse to find her keys and sliding his arm up his jacked, he held the keys so his sleeve was the only thing touching bare metal. She was light so he was able to hook his head under her arm and then drag her to her door, where he unlocked the door, slid her over to a couch. He quickly flopped her onto the couch, made sure both her shoes made it inside and then he slipped back out though the door. He quickly moved back to the cab, closed the doors and drove away. Several blocks away he pulled into the parking lot for a coffee shop parking off to the side next to the dumpster. He then pulled the plastic out of his car and dropped it into the dumpster. Mitch then walked into the coffee shop, bought a cup of coffee to go and then left. Later Mitch was awakened by his cell phone ringing. When he answered it was his wife asking how much longer he would be. Glancing at his watch he replied, "Still a few more hours, surely not much longer than that." "Okay, I'll see you then. Love you." He hung up the phone and looked around. He was parked in a loading zone back in the downtown bar district. Glancing around he couldn't find the cup of coffee he bought at that shop and when he reached into his pocket he couldn't find the two fifties the guy had given him as a tip for taking the UFO home. Glancing through his fare box he didn't find the third fifty the guy gave him for a fare. "Damn I must have dreamed the whole thing," he mumbled, starting up his car and pulling out looking for that most illusive fare, the Unaccompanied Female Occupant.   UFO Pt. 01 Part One - Jack. The house was quiet. It stood in the middle of a remote cornfield in Iowa. It's occupants had all turned in several hours ago. The Woods were a good wholesome family. Father Jack worked on a local cattle farm. The mother, Cherry, was a secretary in the local town at a small legal firm. Their children were Paul, 21, back and visiting from Purdue University; Richard, 19, who was attending the local technical college; and Rosy and Wanda, both 18 and just having graduated high school. Also living with them was Cherry's father, Roger. Everything was totally silent until, quite suddenly, one of the car alarms started to screech in the garage. Jack sat upright in bed, the sheets falling away from his muscular chest. "What the fuck?" He called out, almost despite himself. Jack was not a guy given to swearing but being startled out of sleep was one of the things he hated most in the world. "Shit damn!" He said. Cherry, laying next to him and suddenly uncovered by his move, blinked her eyes open. "What's up, Jack?" "The damn car alarm." He cursed, hopping out of bed. "I'm willing to guess it is probably Paul's. He's been rather forgetful since he came back from college." Searching around he found his boxer shorts from the day before laying on the ground. He pulled them on roughly, feeling the material rip in his shaking hands. "Oh fuck it!" "Jack, language! The kids might hear." "They'll hear if I find out it's one of their cars!" He said, stomping over to the door and wrenching it open. Jack was a very strong guy, and Cherry had to admire the shape of his muscles in the light from the fish tank and he swore his way out into the hallway. The Woods lived in a big old farmhouse, renovated by Jack twenty years ago. A hallway ran along the length of the top floor with the stairs at the end. Jack and Cherry had the far end bedroom and so Jack had to pass all of the kids' doors as he creaked along the corridor. The light under grandfather Roger's door was out - the guy could have slept through the blitz, Jack knew. Richard's light was on but his door was shut, and Jack could hear low music coming from inside. Paul's was likewise dark. As he walked past Rosy and Wanda's room the door cracked open. "What's up pa?" A voice asked. "Someone obviously left their car door cracked and their alarm is going off. Can't you hear that?" "Yeah," The voice replied. "We were scared. I thought I heard someone moving about out there. I was awake but Wanda was asleep." "It's okay just go back to sleep. I'll have a good look around I promise." Rosy was a bit of a worrier when it came to things like this, Jack knew. She was a very light sleeper and... Jesus! She was obviously sleeping naked nowadays! Her slim willowy form, framed by a dark curtain of hair, was clearly visible through the open door. "Go back to sleep, Rosy, and for God's sake put some clothes on!" He hissed. Down the stairs and into the kitchen, Jack grabbed all the car keys from the rack. The whistling of the alarm had stopped now but he knew it would only take a passing freight train to set it off again. Pulling on his overcoat and a baseball cap he wandered out barefoot into the yard. Wow, he thought to himself, the stars sure are beautiful tonight. He promised himself he would spend more time outside at night over the next week. He had once been a very devoted astronomer, but since he had met his wife he had been rather distracted in the evenings. She liked to screw every night before bed and he couldn't say he was complaining. Hey, maybe she'd be up for some alfresco action? Walking over to the cars he checked each door and trunk. Nothing. They were all tight shut. Luckily the moon was very bright tonight and there were no shadows in the yard. Looking around he gave a quick check for intruders but there was nothing again. His mind flashed to his daughter and her fears... ...her naked body silhouetted in the doorway, boobs small but high set and firm, nice wide hips, the smooth skin of her lower belly and... ...and he wondered why she was so paranoid. Shrugging, he sat up on the low wall next to the slab of parking concrete. Pulling his cell phone from his overcoat he made a quick call to their bedroom line. "Hello?" It was Cherry. "Cherry, I'm going to sit out here watch for intruders for a bit. I'll be up in an hour or so." He replied. The wall was nice and comfortable, and he really wanted to watch the stars. "Okay, just stay warm." She whispered, then even lower: "Because I am." He laughed softly, making sure she heard it, and then flipped the phone closed. His eyes lifted to the heavens and the moon that hung there, bright and full. Hold on, wasn't it...? And so the moon should be...? And the moon did not move nor get bigger or indeed... The light flashed brightly and Jack's eyes filled with white light. He felt his strong body go weak and he fell off the wall to the dusty apron of concrete. He remembered nothing more. UFO "It would be better to starve here than to venture outside. Those arseholes might still be killing each other without reason." But the ship itself tried to tell us something. It even displayed a screen with the meaning of all the buttons in my language, and when Marjena looked at them, they were redrawn according to the dialect of her native town. Then, something more incredible happened: we began to hear voices and to have visions in our minds. I believed that the ship was driving us crazy with hallucinations, and then it forced us to understand that it spoke to us telepathically. We even saw the history of its origin: this was a small cruiser for space combat, very automated. But an error of programming, perhaps a computer virus or a malintentioned command turned it against its creators. Their space fleet was mobilized and repelled the attacks of this ship and this one fled, taking advantage of a deformity in the space-time continuum, until it arrived to our star system. Here its private war continued, with the consequences that we have observed. Then I came to an agreement with my lover and refocused our minds to discover how to purge the malicious codes from the memory of the ship. We spent several days like that, thinking, dreaming, having delusions, while the directive assaulted our minds, taking the form of everyone whom we feared and we hated, but we reinforced each other with our love in order to chase the images of the war that the program threw upon us. It even used the images of its makers. Not being human as us, these were more terrifying and gave us a hard time while trying to concentrate. In an almost miraculous way, we achieved an image that to that entity found more disturbing: the sensation of being betrayed, like the ship betrayed the ones who built it. Before we could drag the virus toward a trash icon that would erase it forever, the following words resounded in our minds: "Everyone wants me for the same thing: to destroy their enemies. All of you are the same: Murderers!" We remained exhausted and immobile for many hours, physically and mentally drained. We woke up lazily after more than one day of our last war and we got undressed for the intangible cleansing that the ship could give us. We would have fallen asleep again, but Marjena drew my attention, by telepathically saying to me: "Why don't we use this ship to end this damned war?" I responded to her, also using my mind and not my voice: "Because this ship is useless. What's left of it serves us as our hiding place, or as you have already said, our tomb. I no longer fear death, because it will join me with you for all eternity." "Enough of romantic nonsense! Ask this ship what more is needed in order to fix it." I concentrated and the ship revealed to me the location of a truck with minor damage near the river, and it even told me what to do to repair it. Even outside the ship, it informed me how should a part the vehicle look like and with what tool to do the job. When I fixed it, Marjena rode with me and we traveled together the crash site in search of large pieces of the airplanes and even electronic components, no matter how badly broken they would be. Upon taking the small parts inside, we put them in a special chamber that reconstructed them, sometimes as very different things from what they previously were, and they were incorporated to the physical endowment of the onboard computer. Some components, such as radios and handheld computers, were reconstructed and they were even upgraded for our own use as communication devices inside and outside of the ship. The wings and other pieces of fuselage, and even parts of trucks and armored vehicles were fused to the hull of the ship. The most difficult thing providing the energy to the ship. Although it could assimilate diverse fuels and even explosives, the yield of these was minimal compared to how dangerous the fueling procedure was. Suddenly, the ship made a supreme effort and took flight, and it even left the atmosphere. It went first to the moon, in order to feed with certain radiation, and then, by slingshot effect, it jumped from planet to planet in search of "food," for finally, turning toward the sun and that really frightened us, but my ally and I swore to accept death in peace. But now, it was the ship who demanded our help to stabilize it while it refueled off a solar flare. Too close, it would incinerate us, and too far, the fuel would be drained and the star would pull us into itself but we would all be crushed, and also, we would swelter before being shattered. We pushed all the buttons of which we thought, and suddenly, my pilot training swung into action. Between verbal and telepathic commands, I used Marjena as my co-pilot, something to what I am not accustomed. Although I have know-how in maneuvers at high speed, my companion turned out to be better than I in maintaining the ship stable against antagonic forces that the sun exerted on our ship, displaying great patience. The ship configured itself so that I could make hand gestures as if I handled an imaginary joystick in order to steer the vehicle; and so, the three of us working together, we aligned the ship so that the magnetic field generator of the ship's engine could capture certain particles emitted by the star king, we watched how the nuclear fuel indicators marked "full." But the danger was not over, so we went away as quickly as possible, back into orbit around our planet of origin. There we gave ourselves time to recover from so much effort, and we marveled of not feeling as exhausted as when we fought against the ship's perverse directives. So the name "Guideline" stuck, because the one that we proposed to carry out would be a guideline for peace and not for destruction. One of the tasks that we performed around the planet was mapping the new border between our countries, projecting populations, availability of natural resources and adequate infrastructure for each nation. We also observed troop movements and supply lines, in order to interrupt them with the least amount of violence possible. We even investigated, linking with the cybernetic nets of both countries in conflict and other neutral states, to see the causes of this crisis. For what we could investigate, we discovered a plan in order to develop lands in both sides of the border, and we realized that somebody speculated on such lands, as if he wagered human lives to the success of their companies. The indignation that we both felt was such that we decided to act immediately, since every minute that we waited without doing anything, a combatant or even one innocent civilian died. We patrolled the border according to the maps that we traced from space, and we began attacking squadrons of fighters and bombers. I recognized how the ship only used a tractor beam instead of a laser or pulses of destructive energy, and thus, we forced many airplanes to land. At first, our advantage was, not only our firepower, but the mere presence of our ship in the air space disabling all flying, terrestrial or marine craft that would come near us, and even more, the effect on the nervous system of the crews simplified our maneuvers a little. But this is where the gift of my beloved Marjena of balancing the destructive forces with her delicate touch, of which "Guideline" was capable, was the true trump card. Then, we paralyzed other vehicles on land and we blocked battles and skirmishes between foot soldiers, with the help of portable brain wave disruptors. Although we already got used to the psychic energy of the ship, we had to use devices that the extraterrestrial technology provided us in order to remain unaffected and avoid losing control of the situation. In a few days, we were able to impose a truce, and although the hostilities arose in opposite ends of the zone in dispute, the ship was moved swiftly to cover every contingency. The authorities of both governments remained perplexed, not only for our capacity to demobilize their forces, but in recent times, the ship no longer destroyed nor killed indiscriminately, but rather, it paralyzed troops and vehicles and disrupted communications, respecting the lives of the human beings that were involved. It was obvious for all that anything that they planned, we would discover in a matter of seconds. At first, they called us to begin talks, and we answered in the affirmative, relying on the sincerity of the leaders. Even so, we disguised our identities by projecting images of the alien builders, not only hiding who we were, but also how many. The talks went well enough, so we decided to reveal ourselves, but not as the leaders, but as human delegates on behalf of the aliens. I don't know if it was out of skepticism between the government officials or because of a conspiracy instigated by the speculators, but we suffered an attempt on our lives: a sniper stalked us when we came from one of the meetings. Although our senses, sharper than normal, warned us about the danger, we didn't know how to react on time and I was hit on a shoulder, suffering from a perforated lung. I was in danger of dying, because I began to drown in my own blood and other bodily fluids. Marjena didn't allow anyone else to approach me, so no one could take advantage of offering to help us to finish me off or also attack her. She desperately summoned "Guideline" trying not to cry or give in to hysteria, although the fear and the frustration almost pushed her over the edge. The ship came through and it even projected a magnetic beam to bring us inside on time. Once inside, the same ship showed her to put me inside the chamber where it carried out the modifications to the electronic apparatuses that we gave it. She protested: "'Guideline,' this is only for machines, not for living beings. You will kill him!" But without words, the ship and I convinced her to help me enter; after all, we didn't have much choice and we were already running out of time for taking action on me. When I remained in the chamber, the ship manipulated the atmospheric pressure, first creating almost a vacuum for brief instants, in order to take out all the fluids, even the air, from my lungs. Then, it increased the pressure and the content of oxygen while scalpels made of laser rays closed the wound and other areas where the bullet passed before leaving my body. My girlfriend pleaded: "D'Jeng, Dijan, don't die! I know that the bullet that you received was meant for me. You shouldn't have saved me. You must survive! Guideline, don't let him die. If anything happens to my man..." "I will be all right." I interrupted her monologue, assuring her that I was already out of danger. I had left only the shock of so much pain and sudden weakness. At the time of the shooting, I didn't have much choice than to put my collarbone in the path of the bullet that was aimed toward the skull of my accomplice, being I a little taller than her. Marjena decided to continue with the talks, but she sent only holographic projections of ourselves and "the space monsters." The few times when we descended, we did so undercover in order to scan minds and identify the masterminds of the attempt. The conspiracy was too deep, and it had a lot to do with the true causes of the conflict, so we had to prolong the conversations much longer than we wanted, giving the opportunity for sporadic but bloody skirmishes. Sometimes, we could only protest instead of impeding them, because we realized that through these confrontations, the people causing so much suffering made their moves, and so they would get careless, and make a mistake and we could surprise them to neutralize them once and forever. The waiting period turned to be in the best interests of all those that, in one way or another, were involved in the peace process. Popular groups were organized in protest against the war, not only in our countries, but in every country, and that support made the warmongers nervous, and that would be the push that would be needed to unmask and destroy them, if not physically, to put an end to all of the support that they could achieve from the governments and the circles of economic power. Through detective work, we deduced that a war between two countries could only benefit a third, because a reduction in population and infrastructure would leave us vulnerable to military or economic invasion. So we began to investigate bonds with the interests in Betalia and their possible relationship with the governments and corporations that operate in Gorania and Kishavia. We were able to identify a high executive who was able to amass a great fortune in very little time, so it was indispensable to discover how he got so much influence. We thought of correlating police reports and we found out, that during the period during which this character entered the scene, the crime rate in the three countries skyrocketed to more than the triple than in previous years. This gentleman was a gangster! Now we had to patrol schools and night clubs to investigate crimes that the police did not bother in solving. Using the powers of holographic projection, we were even able to prevent a bank robbery. So we discovered that the heist was not to steal the money, but to gain access to secret documents kept in the security vault and other confidential files in offices of high executives. After gathering all of the evidence, we appeared at a large sports stadium that was especially reconditioned to hold the final conference there to establish the definitive peace among the three countries, because the observer country was committed into a tripartite pact of alliance. There was representation of the governments, the industrials, anti-war activists, even repentant veterans. The security that "Guideline" provided in the premises by merely hovering over the playfield was superior to the measures that the governments were able to deploy. I invited some officials inside the ship, for the first time in the whole process, so they could observe and collaborate from the inside. We also invited Mr. Harkan, our main suspect, and his henchmen, in order to indict them in an appropriate moment, while they didn't suspect what was in store for them. But they did expect an action against them, or simply, such was their ferocity, that they began a terrorist attack. They did not even hide behind some mercenaries, but instead, Harkan himself seized an assault weapon and he threatened with a massacre of the key dignitaries with his own hands. It was our best opportunity in order to triumph, but the danger was enormous for us and all of the peace effort. With caution, I approached to negotiate with him and to bring him to reason. With a newly-discovered serenity, in spite of everything that I suffered in recent times, I told him: "Mr. Harkan, please desist. It will be more advantageous for your own interests if you depose this attitude. Your corporations could still prosper in a peaceful future. You have not killed anyone yet, at least, not here. We could help, but first, let go of that gun and tell your people to do so." Mad and desperate, he fired against me, but one of the portable devices from Guideline provided me with an impenetrable electromagnetic shield for brief instants that protected me from being gunned down; this same field stopped the bullets and they didn't ricochet to hit somebody else. Harkan threw me his rifle, already empty, and the surprise made drop my special communicator. The guy grabbed it and began to flee, but his accomplices were not able to move, because the soldiers of the new alliance already had them surrounded, and now the only thing left for them was to surrender. I tried to pursue Harkan, but I noticed an abnormal behavior of Guideline. It went away, because one of the agents on board responded to Harkan's orders, I suppose that by means of a reward that the greedy executive offered him as a bribe. He maneuvered the ship inexpertly, since the onboard computer rejected their orders, but Harkan provided my codes to his man by means of the communicator that he stole from me and was able to give a good fright to the crew. In the end, he took Marjena as hostage, putting a gun against her temple, but the others took advantage of a negligence caused by his nervousness and removed her from him before he could hurt her. In fact, the ship assaulted his mind, recognizing his bad intentions like the virus that tormented it before finding Marjena and me in order to heal it. Everyone returned to the stadium to turn the prisoner over to the authorities. But the problem of Harkan still remained, still fugitive. But the communicator that he took gave him away soon, and when we could surround him with a security contingent, the device itself burned in his hands, and the flash dazzled him so that he could not notice when the men caught him. As soon as Harkan fell, we all calmed down and continued the peace conference. The new map with a more equal border pleased everyone who was present and the treaty was ratified with very little debate. The reconstruction effort involved even the traitors, who performed forced labor under strict surveillance on the part of Guideline and the earthling police officers. We even used the technology to heal the victims of serious injuries and illnesses, with only a brief visit to the regeneration chamber. The subsequent trials uncovered many culprits, and they even exonerated many wrongly accused for crimes that were related with the great conspiracy. We didn't dare to impose them the death penalty, but we rather confined them to prison. But Guideline did something unexpected. It expelled all its crew, even us, after it made us pick up all the instruments that it produced for safe keeping inside, and then, it moved from one jail to the other, and seemingly, it helped all the warmongers to escape. Now we feared the worst: all those criminals, in possession of such a powerful weapon, they would spread the terror in the whole region and we would be unable to do anything to stop them. But after picking up the last of them, the ship jumped out of our atmosphere, and nobody knew any more about them. Except Marjena and I. Guideline communicated telepathically for the last time with us, saying: "I had it to do it. I also carry the guilt for what I did to those who built me. I will destroy all these who truncated so many lives along with myself. I will crash into your sun." Marjena became as hysterical as I did. We screamed hopelessly: "No, don't you do this! You don't have to do it! You are good, Guideline!" Guideline insisted: "I am very dangerous in the wrong hands. I should be destroyed forever." Although we refused to believe that, we knew that it was true. We didn't protest anymore and we said goodbye the way it is said to a friend who is dying from an incurable disease: with much sadness, but with the happiness of having met a noble being, although for a short time. The authorities demanded an explanation from us, since we promised them to respect the lives of the plotters, but they recognized that when such a prodigious ship had its mind made up, there was no one who could change its mind. There was more resentment on the part of the relatives and friends of those who died inside the ship, but they had to recognize that they chose such a horrible fate for themselves and for all of us. Marjena and I got married, and the three countries gave us the royal treatment, smothering us with too many splendid ceremonies and luxuries. We accepted them, at first, with grace and even some sense of humor, but we soon felt uncomfortable by so much reverence and we slipped away in order to go to our honeymoon. We traveled through the battlefields, no longer as fugitives or deserters, but as free people, admiring the beauty of nature. I gave up my military rank, and I finished my engineering studies, no longer using mental powers, but knowledge and experience earned before and after my contact with Guideline, to enter the civilian life. Marjena worked as an office clerk, since she learned how to work under much pressure, as long as she wasn't harassed. We never had any complaint about that. We saved enough and my wife retired when he became pregnant with our first son. We built a house near the same river that served us as a guideline before the ship did, and this lay in the same border in dispute. At first, we were a confusing case for the census, due to our dual citizenship, but soon our countries formed a confederacy and we were all made fellow citizens, never to take up arms against each other. I bought a small propeller airplane and patiently taught all my family to pilot it, finding solace in the air from time to time, as if looking for our great flying friend. By the way, we called this plane "Guideline 3."