Eastshield Missile Crisis
| This is an incomplete story.
Eastshield Missile Crisis is a story that was started by a user some time ago, but wasn't completed, and may never be completed. We're sorry for the inconvenience! However, feel free to look here to read completed stories!
|Eastshield Missile Crisis|
|Part of Nothing|
|The PSF||The Battering Rams|
|Sheepman, The South Pole Council, Edward Roman||Major Sheep|
|100 highly trained, speacialized commandos, but only 20 ever fought||12,000 crazed but loyal troops|
|A few commandos were hit with snowball guns||A lot of Rams got shot at by the PSF|
|We were dangerously close to deletion war|
Chapter 1: Smile!
It was 1:24am on the 12th of November 2009. Captain Johnathan "Sheepman" Sheep stared at the photo in front of him, not believing it, but there was no mistake. His brother had finally lost it. He turned to his lieutenant, and nodded. They knew what to do. Sheepman grabbed the phone beside him, and dialed Explorer's number.
"Explorer? It's Sheepman. Call a South Pole Council meeting in half an hour. It's a matter of Antartic security! See you there."
He hung up, grabbed the photos and his coat, and left.
Chapter 2: Council of War
"Ladies, gentlemen, penguins, turtles, terns, et cetera." began Sheepman, standing in front of the confused and groggy councillors "We all knew it would happen eventually. It was always coming, and it's our fault for not being prepared. You may think it too early for a meeting, but let me show you THIS"
He pinned one of the photos to the wall.
"What is that?" asked Judge Xavier
"That, is the means to destroy us." replied Sheepman "it is a half built KZT Triple X deletion missile silo, on the island of Baaa!, spotted by one of our jets not 3 hours ago. They could have the missiles flying in 3 days! And if you are thinking that Major Sheep hasn't go the means to launch it, think again! Over the past year, a lot of old PASA computers were sold on the black market. And as for the codes, a microchip containing them, was stolen yesterday. Luckily I know where it is. It is on a ship, heading for Baaa!. I propose sending a team to recover it."
"NOW WAIT JUST A MOMENT!" shouted The New Carl Arnott "Tell me Captain, how many missiles does the Major have?"
"And how many do we have?"
"And if we team up with UnitedTerra, we have seven." stated Arnott "So, if he fires three at us, we fire seven at him. Problem solved."
"I know more then anyone, how bad deletion missiles are" said Sheepman, rubbing his robotic flipper "and I also know, that even if he is defeated, we still lose 6000km of the USA. Now I personally don't want to be responsable for that, but, you are the council. You decide"
"Major Sheep wouldn't dare fire missiles if we tell him we will do the same!"
"Fat chance. He's my twin, Arnott, so I know the guy better then anyone. He is crazy enough to do that, simply because he loves attention."
"How do we know you are not working with him?" said Arnott
"How dare you, Arnott!" said the captain in disgust "I have served the USA loyally since I joined up!"
He calmed down and said, very quietly; "Besides, how will you fight him without the PSF. You mess with me, you mess with them"
"Y-y-you can't do that!" stammered Arnott "We command you!"
"On the contrary, we are a privately run organisation that happens to help the USA. The agreement was, that if you contributed a large amount of money to us, we would serve under you. We also said our contract could be terminated at any time should we choose to do so. It is all stated clearly in the PSF Services Act of 1999, which, I might add, you signed yourself. All in favour of sending a team to get the codes back, say Aye."
"Aye" said everyone except Arnott.
"I shall contact Major Sheep with fake diplomacy attempts to distract him" said Explorer
"Thank you. I shall depart immediatly" said Sheepman and left.
Chapter 3: Desperate Measures
It was 3:00 am. Sheepman burst through the doors of Fort Ewe, the HQ of the PSF. A Corporal ran over too him with a clipboard, ready to take notes.
"Ok. I need a crack squad, preped, suited and ready for action. I need a plane fueled and ready. I need sattelites tracking the rogue ship. I need parachutes. I really need all my combat gear ready to go. Most of all I need a sugar rush, darnit!. The cargoship mission is a go. Wheels up at 04:00 hours. Dismissed."
The penguin scurried off. Sheepman took the elevator to his office on the 3rd floor. When he arrived, a mug of cocoa was on the desk.
It was 4:45. A squad of PSF commandos sat aboard a Iceheed C-130 "Winston" plane.
"Ok everyone!" yelled Sheepman over the roar of the engines "We all know the plan. Everyone has their gear. Just remember what my sarge used to say: You're no good to me dead."
"That's inspiring" said one of the team
"You want inspiration Private? Read a poem."
"Rules of engagement sir?"
The back of the plane opened. A voice boomed over the intercom
"We're over the ship. Green light on Alpha! Go go go!"
They jumped. Six black shapes fell through the sky, heading towards the ship, East Pengolian resitration number 52775.
Chapter 4: All aboard!
Sheepman fell through the night, silently. Suddenly, his headset beeped, Sheepman pushed a button on it. It was Explorer.
"Sheepman? It's Explorer. Arnott managed to convince the majority of the council that if your operation fails, the KZTs can be launched"
"WHAT?" yelled Sheepman "I'm 300 metres off the ground, it's nearly five in the morning, and now I'll be lucky if I recognise Antartica tommorow!"
"Sheepman, you must not fail."
"Roger that. Wasn't planning on it. Sheep out."
Sheepman pulled his parachute cord and floated down on to the top of the bridge. Within 2 minutes the rest of the team was there too. Sheepman took a Deletion bomb from his utility belt and placed it on the roof beside him.
"Everyone get back" he whispered.
They crouched behind an AC unit.
"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Sheepman yelled and pressed the button on his remote detonater.
BOOM! A large hole appeared in the roof. The commandos jumped in. They landed in the control room and let rip with their Snowball Guns.
"That got them." Said Sheepman, looking at the sailors members on the floor. "Ok. We have to get to the hold. So I think if we nip across the deck, fight all the guards and take the secret entrance, we should be ok."
"Sir?" said a trooper "We could take these ungaurded stairs here."
"I knew that. Move out."
They slipped down the stairs quietly. At the bottom, there was a door marked "Hold". They crept through. Hundreds of shipping crates were stacked everywhere. Sheepman pulled out a mini radar dish on a stick.
"Right. Follow me, watch out for enemies, and tell me if you see anything worth nicking. This yoke will tell us if we're near the chip."
He walked slowly throught the make of crates holding out the device. It suddenly began to beep. He followed the source to a large red shipping crate.
"Corporal, you know a missile launch chip when you see one. I'm getting a strong reading. You might wanna take a look at this."
He opened the crate. There it was.
"That's it cap'n. I'll package it up."
"Roger that. I think I hear tangos near by. Get ready for Plan B if things go south."
The corporal grabbed the chip, put it a special case and stuffed it into his pack. Then things went further south then South Pole City. Over twenty Battering Rams came around the corner and froze at the sight of the squad. Then, one of them started yelling into his walkie-talkie.
"WE HAVE HOSTILES IN SECTOR 2-ALPHA! REQUESTING IMMEDIATE REINFORCEMENTS! PREPARE FOR-"
He was cut short by a snowball from Sheepman.
"OPEN FIRE!" yelled the commanders on both sides.
Snowballs whizzed through the air. Several Rams fell. Sheepman's squad were well protected by their state-of-the-art armour, be some of them began feeling woozy. They began backing away, still firing. Sheepman activated his headset, opening a line to the nearest SheepCorps chopper.
"BIG-TERN, THIS IS DELTA SEVEN. WE HAVE A SITUATION HERE! OUR COVER'S BLOWN! MULTIPLE HOSTILES CLOSING IN FROM ALL SIDES. WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE! PICK US UP ON THE POOP DECK. ETA 3 MINUTES! OVER!"
"Roger that." said the pilot. "Be warned, we're nearly at bingo fuel. We are leaving in 2 minutes, with or without you. Be there. Big-Tern out."
"Ok boys! We gotta go! 2 minutes 'til dustoff! DOUBLE TIME!"
The squad turned around and sprinted down the corridor, heading for a stairwell. They took the stairs three at a time, and came out into another corridor at deck level.
"Delta Seven, where the hell are ya?"
"We're on our way! ETA sixty seconds!"
They were faced with three doors. Sheepman stopped, and thought for a moment
They burst through a door, out onto the deck. The chopper (A Snowkorsky "White Eagle") was hovering a short way off. They ran towards it and jumped aboard.
"We're all aboard! Go!" Screamed Sheepman
"Roger that" said the pilot "Returning to base"
And with that, the helicopter disappeared into the night.
Chapter 5: False peak
It was four days later, at 11am. Sheepman was at his desk, his feet up, reading a report and whistling. He was very happy that the deletion missile thing was over. His desk telephone beeped. He picked it up. It was a techie from the control room 4 floors below.
"Sir? We have a situation here, regarding the incident four days ago. Code red sir. One of our spy plames picked up another image. You will want to see this."
"Send it to my computer. Over and out"
He dropped the phone and booted up his PC. An aerial photo popped up on his screen.
It was 45 minutes later. Sheepman once again was standing in front of the SPC. He put an A1 version of the aerial photo on a table.
"Ok everyone, I'll cut to the chase, as we don't have much time. This is the same missile silo we looked at four days ago. As we know, it should be built now. It is, but not only that, but a Triple X has been set up and is in the launch position, and is being fuelled. I'd say we have 5 hours at most."
TO BE CONTINUED