1.

As a child, Jason Rice had a knack for slipping away unnoticed, earning a reputation as an escape artist. He often wandered off, only to be brought back home by police or concerned strangers. His parents made him wear dog tags with their contact information in case he got lost. But after being returned home by the same police officer several times, his parents were warned that if they didn’t keep better control of him, he could be taken into state custody. Terrified by the possibility, they frantically searched for a solution and eventually enrolled him in a behavioral program at a local university.

In this program, Jason was given simple commands, like being told to stay in a chair surrounded by enticing toys and distractions. Of course, as any curious child would, he would get up to explore. The moment he did, they would pick him up, place him in a box, lock it, and wait. Inside, he would scream, yell, kick, and thrash. But the moment he quieted down, they would unlock the box, pull him out, place him back in the chair, and reward him with an M&M’s candy.

This was more than just a simple behavior modification program—it was a methodical process designed to shape Jason’s personality and control his impulses. The use of candy and toys was their way of enticing him into compliance, conditioning him to follow their commands. It wasn’t just about changing his behavior; it was about molding him for a specific purpose. Unbeknownst to his parents, this program was one of the recruiting arms for a covert military initiative. Known as MILAB, short for military abduction, it was responsible for identifying, training, indoctrinating, and preparing children for specialized roles within classified projects and other black programs. Jason had been identified as an intuitive empath, a rare trait that would shape his entire life.

An intuitive empath possesses the innate ability to feel and understand things without being told or having prior experience. It’s not about reading minds but sensing emotions and intuitively grasping why someone feels a certain way or how a machine is supposed to work. This ability is often mistaken for psychic powers, but it’s more about deep emotional sensitivity and insight.

When Jason entered school, his routine shifted again. Often, someone would arrive in the morning or midday to take him to another location—sometimes to an ordinary building, other times to an underground facility. In these excursions disguised as harmless “field trips,” he underwent training as part of a new program, a continuation of the earlier one and still under the umbrella of MILAB.

In these sessions, he was with other children—usually three to five at a time. They were given simple puzzles to solve, but there was a catch: no talking was allowed. Working in teams of two or three, they had to complete the puzzles using nonverbal communication, relying on their intuitive empath abilities. The exercises grew progressively more challenging, with more pieces and more complex puzzles, culminating in a single-colored puzzle with thousands of pieces. At times, they were even blindfolded, forcing them to fully rely on their intuition and teamwork.

The program was clearly designed to identify and cultivate this quality in the children, honing their abilities for future roles. Intuitive empaths made for better soldiers and operatives—individuals who could enter a room, quickly assess a situation, and read the emotions and intentions of everyone present, all without uttering a word. There was a clear refining process among the children. Some simply couldn’t keep up, their progress lagging behind, and those kids usually didn’t return. Medications were used to enhance intuitive empath abilities and to erase memories of where they had been or what they had done, replacing real memories with false ones. This secrecy was crucial. The last thing they wanted was for the public to discover that children were being taken out of school, subjected to experimental drugs, and trained in clandestine operations. If the truth had come to light—that children were being drugged and manipulated for secretive purposes—the backlash would have been severe.

Trauma was an integral part of the training. It involved identifying each child’s deepest fears and then flooding them with those fears. If a child was afraid of drowning, they would use advanced virtual and augmented reality simulations—decades ahead of what was publicly available at the time—to immerse the child in that very fear. The experiences were so realistic that it was impossible to distinguish between the virtual world and reality. The child would undergo the horror of drowning, or being burned alive, or dying in any number of gruesome ways, repeatedly, until they were desensitized to the fear. This was trauma training at its core, inflicted on children who couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening to them.

After these sessions, mind wipes and implanted screen memories ensured that nothing seemed out of the ordinary when the children returned home. Instead of recalling the horrors they had endured, they might remember a pleasant day at an aquarium or some other innocuous event. However, the trauma lingered beneath the surface. Nightmares persisted, accompanied by bouts of unexplained moodiness or a loss of appetite. To their parents, these behaviors appeared to be typical childhood phases, giving them no reason to suspect the dark truth behind their children’s distress.

The program escalated with nighttime training exercises in abandoned malls or similar locations. Jason and other children participated in combat drills like capture the flag, using pistols and wearing suits that responded to infrared beams. A hit to a limb would freeze that part of the body, while a fatal hit locked the entire suit, simulating death. The children were pitted against each other, quickly learning who was more skilled in tactics and combat. It wasn’t long before alliances formed, turning the exercises into a brutal game of survival where teams would gang up on weaker individuals. This training fostered a form of self-organization, where the children learned to work symbiotically, rather than relying on top-down commands. But the process was deeply traumatic, leaving scars that even mind wipes couldn’t fully erase.

As Jason grew older, an intense and sudden desire to join the military took hold, seemingly out of nowhere. He excelled in high school, maintaining a 3.9 GPA throughout. His efforts earned him both a medical scholarship for the Air Force ROTC and an engineering scholarship for the US Army. He chose the path of engineering and completed his four years, fully embracing the military career that had been subtly laid out for him.

Jason’s military journey took an unexpected turn shortly after having entered the US Army. Commissioned on the same day he graduated from college in December 1996, he initially planned to pursue a master’s degree. However, his request was denied, and he was immediately thrust into active duty. Just two months later, as he prepared to report to Fort Leonard Wood for the officer basic course, his trajectory shifted again. Without any explanation, his orders were abruptly changed, reassigning him to the Army Research Office in North Carolina.

2.

Once at the new facility, Jason was introduced to his company commander, who immediately led him to a peculiar elevator. It had only two buttons—up and down—and no visible floor indicators. Without a word, the commander pressed his hand against a wall-mounted scanner, triggering the elevator to descend. The journey downward felt unusually long, lasting an eerie five minutes. During the descent, Jason experienced a sudden and unsettling sensation of vertigo, as if the world had suddenly turned sideways.

The elevator eventually stopped at a red-lit platform approximately 12 feet high and 10 feet wide. Jason noticed that his commander, who had kept a hand on his sidearm—a Beretta—throughout the descent, was intently watching his every move. It wasn’t until later that Jason learned that the commander had been prepared to use his weapon, having previously dealt with a trainee who had suffered a psychotic break during a similar situation. Stepping off the elevator, they were greeted by a pill-shaped capsule train with Lamborghini-style doors that opened upward. The capsule, white and nearly the height of the platform, stood waiting with its doors already open. Jason took a seat on the right side, while the commander sat directly in front of him, their knees just inches apart. As the door sealed shut, Jason couldn’t immediately discern their direction of travel but soon felt a subtle pull, giving him the impression they were moving backward.

The capsule journey lasted about 30 minutes, during which they passed through what Jason later realized was a portal. He knew they were no longer on Earth because of a distinct change in the Schumann resonance, the natural background frequency of the planet. Having grown accustomed to Earth’s resonance, he instantly noticed the difference. While subtle, the shift was unmistakable, replaced by an artificial frequency that was eerily similar yet undeniably foreign. This realization, paired with the lingering vertigo from the elevator ride, left him in a state of heightened awareness, trying to process the strangeness of the experience.

As the capsule ride neared its conclusion, it arrived at the next station without any noticeable slowing or halting. Jason’s first indication that they had stopped came when the capsule door began to open. Startled, he instinctively thought they were still in motion and feared the door might be torn off mid-ride. The commander, fully aware of this typical “new guy” reaction, watched Jason’s startled expression with a knowing smirk. Realizing he had fallen for what seemed to be an initiation prank, Jason braced himself for whatever unexpected challenge lay ahead.

They stepped out into a new landing area, vastly different from where they had started. This new location was about 100 feet long and 30 feet high, brightly lit in white rather than the previous red lighting. In front of them were three elevator doors—two standard-sized and one enormous set of doors, large enough to accommodate a semi-truck. As Jason and the captain approached one of the smaller elevator doors, the captain pressed a button, and the doors slid open. Immediately, Jason found himself staring at an alien, no more than four feet in front of him. The being was around four feet tall with large, dark eyes, a small mouth, and a small nose.

Surprised, Jason turned to the captain, who stood calmly to his right. Pointing toward the elevator, Jason exclaimed, “There’s something in the elevator.” The captain, seemingly unbothered, replied evenly, “What is it?” Jason glanced back at the elevator, but the alien had vanished. Confused and uncertain of what he had just witnessed, Jason decided not to tell the captain what he had seen. At that point, he was still in the dark about what was really going on. Jason’s reaction was one of surprise rather than fear—more incredulous than terrified. The captain showed no indication that anything unusual had occurred, and Jason, taking his cues, decided to dismiss the encounter. He chalked it up to another “new guy” trick, unsure of what to believe. With the elevator now empty, Jason and the captain stepped inside. The captain, with a knowing look, pressed the up button, and the elevator smoothly ascended a few floors.

When the elevator doors opened, they entered a massive underground cavern, still within the natural rock formations, but this space was unlike anything Jason had ever seen. The scale of the place was staggering—like an NFL stadium buried beneath the earth, with enough space to house an entire small city. The ceilings soared 32 stories high, though Jason noted that the uppermost levels were off-limits due to alleged radioactivity. This facility was known as the FIG, short for the Fort Indiantown Gap cave structure.

The entire cavern was brightly illuminated, with a light that mimicked daylight but had no discernible source. Instead, the walls and ceiling appeared to glow, casting a uniform, even light that seemed to emanate from the very rock itself. The effect was otherworldly, leaving Jason momentarily awestruck. The captain, however, walked forward without hesitation, as if this incredible environment was routine. Jason followed, taking in the various features of the cavern.

A track made from a vibration-absorbing material, similar to what’s used on indoor tracks, encircled a field of artificial grass. Nearby, he noticed rows of training chairs, tables, and other classroom-like furnishings, as well as a sandpit reminiscent of a volleyball court, though devoid of nets or posts. Off to one side was a shooting range. Above, suspended in the air, were networks of catwalks—some with rails, others without—along with ropes hanging from the ceiling, each ending in a carabiner typically used for climbing. One feature, however, stood out to Jason: a trapeze-like apparatus that seemed oddly out of place in a military training facility.

As he stood in the middle of the enormous cavern, Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that he was stepping into something far greater than himself. Yet, despite the immensity of the environment, no one had explained what he was actually there to do. The captain offered no details, maintaining a stoic silence and instructing Jason to save all questions. For now, Jason had no choice but to follow and observe, his curiosity mounting with every step. After descending the stairwell, Jason followed the captain into the next hallway, where the captain made an immediate right turn into the first door. The room turned out to be a conference room, where they would spend the next couple of hours. Here, Jason was introduced to a mountain of paperwork—signing for various pieces of equipment and documents—without any real briefing or explanation.

Jason sat down beside the captain, facing a thick stack of papers neatly organized in a folder. The room itself was relatively unremarkable, save for one curious detail: a narrow black stripe, about 3/4 of an inch wide, that encircled the upper portion of the walls, roughly 12 inches below the ceiling. At one end of the room, a large flat-screen TV, approximately 60 inches in size, was mounted on the wall, though it remained off. At the time, Jason thought the black stripe was purely decorative. He would later learn, however, that it was far more than that. The stripe housed advanced monitoring equipment capable of tracking biosigns, video, audio, infrared, and a range of other data points. It was designed to evaluate every person in the room—monitoring stress levels, detecting subtle physiological changes like sweating or increased heart rates, and recording everything for analysis.

For two hours, Jason signed document after document, still entirely in the dark about what he was getting into. The captain provided no explanations, only curt instructions to hold all questions. He insisted that there was a lot of work to get through in a short time and assured Jason that a full briefing would be provided in two days, once everyone had arrived. Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that this deliberate lack of information was part of the process—a test to evaluate how he and others responded to uncertainty and stress. As Jason worked through the paperwork, questions gnawed at the back of his mind. Why did so many of the commanding officers he had encountered so far have German accents or distinctly Germanic features? Why, after defeating Germany in World War II, was he now taking orders from Germans? These thoughts swirled as he silently obeyed the captain’s directives.

Midway through the signing session, Jason noticed an odd device resting on the table in front of the captain. It was unlike anything he had ever seen—or at least, anything he could consciously remember. The device resembled a jeweler’s hammer, small and unassuming, with a plain black handle and a single button. Instead of a hammerhead, it featured a small, conical crystal fixture at the end. At the time, Jason had no idea what the device was for, but he would later discover its purpose. If Jason had declined to proceed with the program, that small, innocuous-looking tool would have been used to erase his memory—a procedure known as blank slating. He would have been sent back to Fort Leonard Wood, oblivious to everything he had seen or signed, with no recollection of the events that had unfolded in the strange facility.

3.

In the 1930s, Germany was a nation consumed by an intense interest in esoteric mysticism and alternative views on life, energy, and connections to realms beyond the known world. Driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, German researchers and explorers scoured the planet in search of hidden powers and ancient wisdom. This fascination was not new; it had deep roots stretching back into the late 1800s.

After World War I, the German state began integrating various secret societies into its research and development efforts. Among these was the Vril Society, an occult organization led by Maria Orsic, a renowned channeler who claimed to communicate directly with extraterrestrial beings. Initially, the information she provided was met with skepticism. However, that skepticism evaporated when she shared detailed blueprints for anti-gravity crafts—remarkably precise schematics that included measurements, dimensions, and material specifications, enabling the construction of advanced technologies. At first, groups like the Vril Society were focused on advancing humanity through the knowledge they acquired, not on pursuing world domination. But as the Third Reich rose to power, these secret societies faced mounting pressure to align with the Nazi regime. To survive, they were coerced into contributing their discoveries to the Reich’s growing military ambitions.

This alignment led to a period of explosive technological innovation in Germany. Within just a few years, German scientists and engineers developed groundbreaking advancements, including television, nuclear weapons, lasers, and microwaves. The pace and breadth of these achievements were unprecedented, with many attributed to knowledge derived from both channeled information and direct extraterrestrial contact. Benevolent extraterrestrial beings, intent on aiding humanity, shared knowledge of anti-gravity technology with the Germans while deliberately withholding information about destructive weaponry.

By the late 1930s, German engineers had successfully developed saucer-like crafts capable of traveling beyond Earth’s atmosphere. By the decade’s end, they had even begun exploratory missions to other planets. However, Hitler’s ambition to weaponize this technology for the war effort proved futile. The issue stemmed from fundamental physics: the Germans could not equip these UFOs with modern conventional weapons due to the second law of momentum. Firing a weapon generated an equal and opposite force, destabilizing the craft in mid-air. Without the necessary compensatory technology, these saucer-like crafts were unsuitable for combat during the war. In contrast to the benevolent extraterrestrials, the Draco—a reptilian species driven by entirely malevolent intentions—offered the Germans a darker alternative. Self-serving and ruthless, the Draco’s agenda aligned disturbingly well with the ambitions of the German leadership, leading to a sinister alliance. Towering between 8 and 14 feet tall, with some possessing vestigial tails and wings, the Draco provided the Germans with explicit directives. One such directive was the establishment of a base in Antarctica, where ancient, advanced technologies lay buried beneath the ice—technologies that held the potential to shift the balance of global power decisively in their favor.

4.

After the meeting with the captain, Jason Rice was shown to his quarters. The room was reminiscent of a standard hotel room, with all the basics—a bed, a closet, a small bathroom, a dresser, a bedside table, and a lamp. It was simple, functional, and devoid of any distractions: no windows, no TV, no radio, and no computer. The captain left Jason there with a stack of manuals, new uniforms, and equipment, saying he would see him later. The manuals contained instructions for everything, from weapons like plasma rifles and pulse pistols to land mines and area denial field generators. It was already around 11 o’clock at night, and Jason was mentally exhausted. After a quick shower, he pushed everything off the bed and collapsed into sleep, but it was a restless night. The absence of the familiar Schumann resonance in the background, combined with an unfamiliar atmosphere, left him feeling unsettled.

The next morning, Jason awoke early, groggy from the fitful sleep, and began searching for the basics—how to shave, how to brush his teeth. He came across a device labeled as “nanite epilation equipment.” He recognized the term “epilation” but was unfamiliar with nanites—microscopic machines—a term that was still largely unknown in 1996. After consulting the manual, Jason learned that the device used a binary compound that activated nanites when combined. These nanites would dissolve hair follicles without the need for water. Once finished, all that was needed was a towel to wipe away the remaining hair, leaving the skin smooth for about 30 to 45 days. Jason was amazed by the technology—where had this been all his life? It had been designed specifically to save water aboard ships, where resources were limited. Next, Jason searched for a toothbrush and found a tube containing another binary compound cream. The tube had a special fitting that released precise amounts of each compound into a chamber where they mixed. The cream tasted like chalk and seemed insufficient at first, but after 30 minutes, his teeth felt as though they had just been cleaned by a dentist. Like the epilation device, this too was designed to minimize water use and eliminate waste water—essential considerations for life aboard a craft.

Freshly shaved and with his teeth brushed, Jason went in search of a clean uniform. The thought of putting on the uniform from the day before was unappealing, so he looked for something new. The uniform he found had a digicam pattern with a V-shaped design for the name tag and unit insignia. Beneath the wrist area on each forearm was a pouch, part of the medical kits that were integrated into the feedback system between the computer systems and medical gear. Both the pants and blouse had a liner made of an incredibly thin yet rugged holographic material, the likes of which Jason had never seen before. Once he was suited up in his new uniform, Jason felt ready to start the day. After some morning exercises and stretching, his stomach reminded him that it was time to eat.

He made his way to the cafeteria, curious about what he would find there. When he walked in, he saw stainless steel shelves with an overhang, bordered by three-inch-wide metal edges. On each shelf were three black, square buttons. Intrigued, Jason approached the nearest one and pressed his finger on it. A humming sound began, followed by a faint, misty light beneath the button. To his amazement, a bowl with butter materialized right in front of him, seemingly emerging out of thin air. He had just used his first replicator, and he quickly realized that all the other bays were replicators too. Excited by the discovery, Jason felt like he had stepped into a futuristic wonderland. He grabbed a tray and began moving down the line, eagerly pressing each button to see what would happen. The first button produced scrambled eggs, perfectly cooked and ready to eat. the second created a bowl of porridge. Further down the line, he found replicators for bacon, toast, and, finally, a glass of water. He added the butter from earlier to his tray and admired what was probably the happiest plate of plain scrambled eggs he’d ever seen. The replicators were pre-programmed for specific meals, offering a selection of what was available that day. Although the choices were limited, Jason couldn’t help but marvel at the technology and the possibilities it presented. He noticed a distinct energy field surrounding the replicators. A charge in the air was palpable, and a subtle sound accompanied the process as meals materialized instantly. The process involved advanced technology, likely utilizing waves, ultrasound, or ultrasonic signals, which can organize atoms at the molecular level.

The rest of second day at the FIG cavern was incredibly busy. Jason attended a whirlwind of activities, starting with a tour of every corner of the facility, getting to know key personnel, and completing administrative tasks like signing up for pay. As they navigated the cavern, Jason’s attention was drawn to an unusual shipping container with odd, reinforced doors. Nearby, he spotted a massive, charred surface roughly the size of a movie screen, mounted on a mobile cable system that allowed it to be moved anywhere within the cavern. Curious, Jason learned that the screen was a specially treated target designed for live plasma rifle training. The advanced surface was engineered to absorb plasma rounds without combusting or causing collateral damage, making it an essential tool for their high-tech weapons training.

Jason also learned that the trapeze-like setup he had seen earlier was integral to training with neurally operated gravity packs, a key component of the hang glider training program. These grav packs allowed soldiers to generate thrust, enabling them to gain or lose altitude as needed. The cavern served as the primary training ground for mastering small unit tactics in the air, including collision avoidance, aerial maneuvering, and firing weapons while in flight. The grav packs were battery-powered, providing an operational window of about 30 to 45 minutes of continuous use. Soldiers were trained to use the packs in conjunction with the hang gliders, not for hovering but for actual flight. The packs were primarily employed to gain altitude, stabilize during weapon fire, or make precise adjustments in midair, with all movements controlled mentally through their combat helmets. Mastering these skills was critical because the hang gliders, while unsuitable for large-scale attacks, were incredibly stealthy. Their near-silent operation made them ideal for covert missions, allowing soldiers to relocate, infiltrate, or drop into locations undetected.

One of Jason’s tasks that day was to pick up a stack of pre-selected postcards he was to send to his family. This was part of a carefully orchestrated plan to prevent any suspicion back home about individuals who had suddenly disappeared. Jason found it unsettling to write messages like “Happy belated birthday” for a birthday that wouldn’t occur for another year. Each postcard had a specific word count, and Jason was given precise instructions on what to write, though it had to be in his own handwriting. The messages felt as though they had been generated by an AI, tailored to match each recipient’s psychological profile. In cases like Jason’s, where sending a belated card would seem out of character, the AI deliberately included such details to create an added layer of authenticity.

Another stop was at the psychiatrist’s office, an essential step for those who would eventually return to their previous lives after service. The session was designed to establish a detailed baseline of his mental state upon entry into the program. The psychiatrist asked the same questions repeatedly, phrasing them differently each time, probing for specifics about Jason’s memories: where he had been, what he had seen, and what exactly had happened. Meanwhile, advanced sensors embedded in the walls and ceiling monitored his biorhythms, functioning as an ultra-precise polygraph capable of detecting even the subtlest signs of stress, anxiety, or deception. This wasn’t a one-off session. The evaluations occurred weekly, ensuring that every detail of Jason’s mental and emotional state was meticulously recorded. This rigorous scrutiny was a cornerstone of the program, ensuring they maintained an accurate and comprehensive record of his memories and experiences—down to the smallest detail.

5.

In 1938-39, the Germans launched an expedition to Antarctica aboard the SS New Schwabenland. This was no mere scientific mission; it was a calculated operation to secure alien technology. They claimed a section of Antarctica, particularly in Queen Maud Land, where natural defenses like mountain ranges provided ideal cover. It was here they began constructing Base 211, a groundbreaking stronghold that became central to their plans.

The timing of these events was far from coincidental. Upon their return to Germany in February 1939, the Germans made a provocative economic decision. By April, they abandoned the central banking system, opting instead to trade directly with other nations, bypassing fiat currency controlled by global financial powers. This defiance alarmed the central banking elite, who began rallying opposition against Germany. By September, Germany had invaded Poland, igniting World War II. The proximity of these events was no accident. The Antarctic expedition and the Germans’ encounter with the Draco seemed to have emboldened their ambitions, accelerating their plans for global domination. What they discovered—or were shown—strengthened their resolve to pursue an aggressive path, ultimately pushing the world toward war.

In the early 1940s, under the Draco’s influence, the Germans were instructed to build a vast base beneath the Antarctic ice, capable of housing 300,000 to 400,000 people. The Draco had a clear motive: they needed a proxy force to recover ancient technologies buried in the region. Antarctica’s isolation made it the perfect location for such clandestine activities, shielding their operations from prying eyes. Thousands of Germans were selected to work on the project, carefully compartmentalized to maintain secrecy. The geothermal properties beneath the Antarctic mountains provided an initial power source, which was later augmented by advanced technologies. However, the true prize was the remnants of a long-lost advanced civilization, hidden beneath the ice. The Draco’s interest in these ancient technologies was purely self-serving, leveraging the Germans to unearth artifacts that could further their own goals.

After World War II ended, the German faction in Antarctica distanced themselves from the crumbling Nazi regime and focused on fortifying their base and advancing their technological capabilities. By 1947, they had made significant progress, equipping their anti-gravity craft with effective weaponry mounted on mobile platforms. This marked a critical leap in their defensive and offensive capabilities. Around the same time, UFO sightings surged, with incidents like Maury Island and Roswell making headlines. Some of these sightings were linked to the Germans, who remained hidden but had not gone unnoticed. Through espionage, intercepted intelligence, and tracking individuals moving in and out of South America, global powers, particularly the United States, pinpointed the Germans’ Antarctic stronghold. This discovery prompted decisive action. Within a year after World War II, the United States began planning a large-scale military operation to neutralize the German threat. The result was Operation Highjump, launched in November 1946. Under the command of Admiral Byrd, a large naval flotilla was dispatched to Antarctica under the pretext of testing operations in harsh conditions. Upon arrival, the U.S. forces established a base and initiated reconnaissance. They soon discovered the German stronghold, triggering a direct confrontation.

A few German UFOs, armed with directed energy weapons, launched a counterattack, destroying one of the ships, killing several personnel, and forcing the entire fleet to retreat back to the United States. This defeat underscored the Germans’ advanced capabilities and marked a turning point. Recognizing the threat posed by the Antarctic Germans, global powers—especially the Cabal—moved to establish negotiations. The Cabal, a shadowy global elite, includes central bankers, major industrialists, influential media conglomerates, and powerful corporations, many tied to the Bilderberg Group. This secretive collective dominates key industries like finance, energy, technology, and pharmaceuticals, leveraging their influence to shape global policies and narratives. Through their interconnected networks, the Cabal maintains control over vast economic and political systems, furthering their interests under the guise of progress and stability. Negotiating with the Germans became a critical move for the Cabal, ensuring that advanced technologies and resources could be folded into their larger agenda of global dominance.

6.

Later that day, Jason spent time in the medical lab, where he was introduced to the nanite enhancement therapy that would become a cornerstone of his service in the program. The procedure was designed to maximize his survival in the extreme conditions he would face. Nanites were introduced into every system of his body, from bones and organs to lymphatic glands and tissue. These enhancements augmented his natural abilities, enabling him to perform tasks that would be impossible for a regular human.

The enhancements were remarkable. Jason’s vision was enhanced to the point where he could zoom in on distant objects and see in the dark. His hearing extended into frequencies beyond the range of normal human perception. The nanites gave him control over his adrenal glands, allowing him to regulate hunger and optimize nutrient distribution—critical in situations where food was scarce. Every gland in his body, including the pituitary and pineal glands, was modified to enhance his performance. Radiation resistance was another vital feature. Every cell in Jason’s body was equipped with protocols to repair radiation damage, a necessity for survival in space. Specialized nanites were applied to different systems: one type for organs, another for auditory functions, and others for joints. Despite their specific roles, all nanites shared the anti-radiation capability. The nanites also accelerated healing. A cut that would take two weeks to heal could now mend in hours. While they didn’t take over his body’s natural functions, they significantly enhanced them, improving health and resilience in ways Jason found astounding.

Mastering these enhancements required extensive training. Over 18 months of rigorous preparation, Jason and his peers learned to integrate the nanites into their daily operations. The training wasn’t about becoming super soldiers but about using the enhancements as a form of protection—like putting on a suit of armor. This distinction was vital; the nanites amplified their strengths without altering their core humanity. The nanites also enhanced Jason’s endurance. While his maximum running speed didn’t increase, his ability to maintain that speed extended dramatically. If he could run a mile and a half at top speed without enhancements, with the nanites, he could sustain the same pace for five miles. Reaction times, however, were primarily influenced by Jason’s intuitive empath abilities, which allowed him to anticipate events before they occurred, rather than relying solely on the nanites.

The nanites, though incredibly advanced, came with risks. They could be hacked, posing a significant threat. Regular scans of personnel were conducted to detect any AI-related compromises. At the time, Jason assumed these scans were routine, but he later realized they were specifically designed to address the risk of nanite hacking. This constant monitoring was an integral part of the program, ensuring the security and functionality of the enhancements. Despite their extensive integration into his body, the nanites were not permanent. At the conclusion of his service, Jason would undergo a cleansing process to flush the nanites from his system, ensuring that the enhancements didn’t remain after his time in the program. This temporary nature underscored the program’s deliberate design, focusing on functionality during service while leaving no lasting changes afterward. The nanite enhancements weren’t part of an experimental trial; they were components of a mature, well-developed system that combined physical and cognitive enhancements into a seamless strategy. For Jason, they were both a tool for survival and a proof to the program’s sophistication—a balance of cutting-edge technology and human ingenuity.

After a few days of settling in the cavern facility, all the trainees were finally called to a briefing in an auditorium that resembled a college lecture hall, with rows of seats, each equipped with a foldable desk. On each desk was a packet containing paperwork and information about their mission. The atmosphere was tense but charged with curiosity as the soldiers awaited the start of the briefing. A German colonel stepped forward to address the group. He explained with a thick German accent that they had been chosen for their special talents and abilities. They were to be the “tip of the spear,” the front line of defense for humanity, motivated by patriotism and a desire to serve their country. Their mission would be to help defend planets from alien invasions. It became evident that the senior officers on stage were also German, all with thick accents. There were no other Western or European senior officers present, which raised suspicions in Jason. This realization was a significant sign that something was amiss, something that set this operation apart from any standard military command structure he had known.

The briefing continued with a presentation of the Secret Space Program they had just joined, officially named the Interplanetary Defense and Reaction Forces (IDARF). Its mission was akin to border patrol, providing assistance on other planets, but also undergoing significant training on Earth, in locations such as Antarctica and the South Pacific. The colonel took full credit for the program’s development, conveniently omitting mentions of extraterrestrial involvement. The focus shifted to the rewards awaiting the soldiers after 20 years of service. They were promised $465,000 upon their return, though it was explicitly noted that deductions for room, board, and some equipment costs would apply, framed as minor charges. Charts and graphs were shown to break down the financial aspects of the program, presenting the sum as a substantial reward for their dedication—especially impressive in 1996. The group listened intently, captivated by the promises laid out before them. In addition to the monetary reward, the soldiers were assured that age regression would be a part of the return process. Having already observed undeniable physical improvements from the nanites coursing in their bodies, the group had little reason to doubt this claim. The idea of returning younger and healthier after two decades of service was undeniably appealing.

The colonel revealed another extraordinary aspect of the program: timeline reintegration. At the conclusion of their 20-year journey, soldiers would be sent back in time to the precise moment and place where they had first received their orders. This process caused a split in the timeline, allowing their original self to continue life on Earth while their consciousness embarked on the space mission. For two decades, they would live parallel lives, experiencing an entirely separate reality. Upon completing their service, they would be seamlessly reintegrated into their original timeline, as if they had never left. This was the extraordinary promise of the “20 and Back” opportunity: defend humanity for two decades, then return with a second chance at youth, coupled with a significant financial nest egg. The briefing was carefully crafted to present the service as a noble and rewarding endeavor, a narrative designed to appeal to their patriotism and ambition. And it worked, the soldiers were drawn in by the promises of glory. However, there was no mention of the mind wipes that would be used to erase their memories upon reintegration.

7.

Operation Highjump, intended to eliminate the Antarctic Germans, ended instead in a hasty and humiliating retreat. Not long after this defeat, in March 1947, President Truman issued an executive order mandating FBI loyalty evaluations for all federal employees. While officially framed as a response to fears of Communist infiltration during the rise of McCarthyism, the true target of these evaluations was far more covert: the Antarctic German infiltrators who had quietly begun embedding themselves within the US government.

Following Admiral Byrd’s return to the United States, reports of UFO sightings escalated dramatically, along with increasing accounts of abductions. A curious pattern emerged—many abductees, including the widely publicized case of Betty and Barney Hill, were of German descent. This raised troubling questions: were these incidents coincidental, or were the abductors deliberately targeting individuals with German ancestry? There appeared to be a strong link between German genetics and those involved in the Secret Space Program or among the abductees. This connection traced back to the negotiations between the Antarctic Germans and the Cabal. As part of these secret agreements, the Antarctic Germans made several bold demands. These included formal recognition as a sovereign state, the establishment of embassies worldwide, and a startling provision: the placement of one to five senior executives from the Antarctic German civilization into leadership positions within every major global corporation. Industries targeted included aerospace, automotive, and petrochemicals, allowing these operatives to gain influence at the highest levels of power.

Between 1945 and 1948, the Germans shifted their focus to infiltrating the Allied powers. Their strategy aimed to embed operatives deep within the military and political systems of their former enemies, ensuring a foothold in key areas of influence. This covert operation, though part of a broader and more insidious effort, became partially public under the guise of Operation Paperclip. Officially presented as a program to bring German scientists, technicians, and engineers to the United States after World War II, Operation Paperclip was actually the first stage of a far-reaching infiltration effort. The operation not only provided these individuals with passports, homes, and jobs but effectively laid out the red carpet for their integration into Western industries. The Germans specifically targeted the United States, recognizing its vast manufacturing capacity and resources. By embedding themselves into key corporations, they could steadily expand their influence and power.

As abductions ramped up in the 1950s and 1960s, suspicions grew about their connection to earlier agreements. Were these abductions part of additional deals struck with other extraterrestrial races, or did they serve the Antarctic Germans’ own experimental purposes? The full details remain unclear, but the implications are deeply unsettling.

8.

After eight months of rigorous preparation focused on mastering nanite enhancements, Jason’s move out of the cave structure began with a shuttle flight to the Moon. The journey started at Area 51, deep within the Nevada desert, and from there, the shuttle carried the group up to the lunar operations command, where the next phase of training took place. The journey from Earth to the Moon was astonishingly quick—taking only minutes, if that.

For six months, the focus was on mastering microgravity, understanding the advantages and limitations of various systems. The training wasn’t confined to classrooms alone; much of it also took place aboard ships in space. These ships were massive, triangular in shape, with smooth sides and a wedge-like design. Training on the Moon was a critical phase of preparation, focusing on getting oriented to shipboard operations, understanding emergency procedures, evacuation protocols, and the layout of ships. Knowing the difference between water lines and power lines, identifying areas to avoid, and being prepared for emergencies like firefighting were all crucial skills for someone aboard a spaceship, which wasn’t always the safest environment.

This training took place on the Cabal’s base on the Moon, a facility they had acquired from the Germans. The base itself was underground, providing a secure and controlled environment. However, most of the training occurred not within the base, but aboard a training ship specifically designed for this purpose. The principle was to “train like you fight,” meaning that real-world scenarios were simulated as closely as possible. The interior of the training ship resembled the inside of a US Navy vessel—cramped, with overhead pipes and utilities crowding the space, and bulkheads painted in shades of lime green and cream. It was a place where utility and efficiency ruled. Unlike the manually sealed doors of older vessels, the ship was outfitted with automatic doors that sealed themselves, an advanced feature that could be as dangerous as it was convenient. If you were caught on the wrong side at the wrong time, there would be no escape. This ship was part of the early iterations of the Secret Space Program, likely launched around 1985 or 1986, during the infancy of Solar Warden, the American program. The technology onboard, while advanced, still carried the DNA of Naval design—submarine technology adapted for the void of space. It was one of the first of its kind, a pioneer vessel in the fleet that would become the backbone of Solar Warden’s operations.

Throughout this training, command remained firmly in the hands of the Germans. Their rules and control extended even to the Moon, where the training included orientation to microgravity operations and becoming more familiar with the combat suits that would be worn in the field. By this point, only 26 out of the original 34 remained in the group. Not all had perished, but the toll of the intense training and the demanding environment had significantly reduced their numbers.

After completing the six months of training on the Moon, the next phase of preparation took place on Mars. Jason set foot on the vast, barren expanses of Mars—desolate deserts filled with rocks, canyons, and strange washouts that formed depressions on the surface. He got an otherworldly feeling to the environment, a stark reminder of being on a different planet. Breathing the Martian air was not an option. Helmets were worn at all times, and soldiers were strictly instructed never to remove them. Above ground, there was little to see beyond the structures designed for mechanical purposes and the entrances leading down to the subterranean bases. The surface was mostly covered by radiation shielding, dirt, and rock, making the underground cities the primary living spaces for their inhabitants. The Germans had established two large underground cities on Mars, known as New Berlin and New Wurzburg. These were not just bases; they were fully functioning cities, carved deep into the rock of the Martian surface. These cities were vast and self-sustaining, hidden away from the harsh conditions on the Martian surface. Water was primarily sourced from recycling efforts, although the planet’s locked ice reserves were also extracted to some extent.

The unit that Jason was part of, the 3rd Panzer Division, was known as the Berlin Bears. The Mars Germans had taken inspiration from World War II German military traditions, adopting many of the original insignias, symbols, and even uniforms. One of their dress uniforms was disturbingly similar to the black SS uniform, which the American soldiers were reluctant to wear unless explicitly ordered to do so. The soldiers didn’t see much of the underground bases and cities, as the majority of the time was spent aboard ships, with only occasional glimpses of facility entrances. While there were indications that other alien groups existed on Mars, none were ever encountered directly. No signs of conflict or fighting were observed, though it was unclear whether the coexistence was peaceful or simply an uneasy truce. The training protocol kept them isolated from any interactions with these other groups, confined to designated training areas far from any potential hostilities. This stage of the training involved integrating the previous one with new, more advanced zero gravity and microgravity techniques. It focused on the crucial interface between ship operations and ground maneuvers, which included learning the ins and outs of combat landing—how to depart the ship, execute drops, and handle the various methods of descent to the planet. This included exiting shuttles, jumping out with gliders, or using anti-gravity packs to shoot out into the Martian atmosphere. The training was rigorous and designed to prepare for the unique challenges of operating in the Martian environment.

The strangest piece of technology Jason encountered were the individual insertion pods. These were designed for situations where shuttle craft weren’t feasible or expediency was crucial, allowing for orbital insertions directly onto the planetary surface. The concept was simple yet expeditious: each soldier would be equipped with a combat suit and placed inside a re-entry pod. The pod had shielding to protect against the intense heat of re-entry, and a cooling system inside to keep things bearable, although it still got hot. The pod was launched on a trajectory towards the planet, and its single anti-gravity generator helped slow the descent, reducing the impact upon landing. Despite this, the landing was still rough—enough to jolt the body, but not enough to be fatal, with the suit absorbing much of the impact.

The experience of hurtling through the atmosphere, encased in a small pod, was intense. Many soldiers would turn off their video sensors during the descent to avoid the disorienting visuals. There was also a blackout period during re-entry when the sensors wouldn’t work at all. These pods were primarily used for rapid insertions when speed was essential. If other shuttle craft were needed elsewhere for tactical diversions, these pods allowed for quick deployment. Despite the intense nature of the experience, most of the insertions done were for training or recertification purposes, rather than in active combat zones.

Jason’s group faced the realities of combat deployment, where living in a suit permanently became a daily reality. The advanced combat suits were integral to their survival, and the trainees had to become adept at living, fighting, and maneuvering within them under harsh conditions. After four months of training on Mars, they were finally ready to be deployed to his first mission on another planet.

9.

Around 1940, as the Germans fortified their Antarctic stronghold, they made their first journey to the Moon using the Haunebu I spacecraft. Their lunar ambitions quickly led to startling revelations. The Germans discovered that the Moon was not a natural satellite but an artificial construct, brought to Earth as an escape vessel from another region of space. The Moon’s interior was already densely occupied by dozens of alien races, each fiercely guarding their territory. While no open conflicts occurred, any attempts to encroach on another’s land were met with swift and aggressive defense. In 1944, the Germans returned with a specific mission: to scout for a suitable location to establish a base. Their ambitions extended beyond the Moon, as they also initiated exploratory missions to Mars, marking the dawn of their interplanetary installation endeavors.

By 1946-47, the Germans, lacking the advanced technology needed to engage in a fight of this magnitude, found themselves in a desperate position. They needed land, but the only race willing to negotiate with them was the Draco. This wasn’t a coincidence; the Draco had either bribed, blackmailed, or manipulated the situation to ensure the Germans had no other options. The ensuing negotiations centered around acquiring 20 acres of lunar land, but the Draco’s demands were steep. They initially requested 225 females and 50 years of first refusal rights—a clause granting the Draco the option to claim any technology the Germans uncovered in Antarctica before it could be shared elsewhere. The Germans were appalled by the demand for 225 women. Beyond its moral implications, losing so many childbearing females would severely jeopardize the survival of their society. After six grueling months of negotiation, a deal was reached: the Germans would provide 150 males, 75 females, and 25 years of first refusal rights on Antarctic discoveries. These individuals were handed over as slaves, destined for labor, experiments, entertainment, and other horrific abuses. This grim agreement secured the Germans a 100-year lease on lunar territory, with the Draco offering technological assistance in return. The deal marked a pivotal moment, as it enabled the Germans to establish their first off-planet base, laying the groundwork for future exploration. However, the price of this achievement was devastating.

The brutality of the Draco became horrifyingly evident when they arrived in Antarctica to collect their captives. The Germans had gathered a group of people in a cavern, unaware of their fate. The Draco descended in full battle armor, deploying a stun device that immobilized everyone within its range. Using memory alteration technology, they flooded the minds of their victims with terrifying images—scenes of human-on-human mutilation, torture, and cannibalism, often involving their own family members. The immobilized captives were forced to endure this psychological torment, unable to move or resist, as the Draco took a sick delight in their suffering. Two guards, by sheer chance, stood just outside the range of the immobilization field. Witnessing the horrors unfolding, they managed to escape and alert security forces. However, the trauma of what they saw was so profound that both guards later took their own lives, unable to cope with the memories that haunted them. The Draco took all 278 captives that day, and despite repeated German inquiries, their whereabouts or remains were never disclosed. This harrowing event left a lasting impact on the Antarctic Germans, who vowed never to trade their own people again. Instead, they later resorted to finding other human sources to fulfill their dealings.

The exchange secured the Germans 20 acres of harsh, unyielding land on the Moon, where they began constructing their lunar operations command. Most of the base was built downward, burrowing into the Moon’s surface for protection. The construction, undertaken between 1947 and 1952, faced immense challenges, with nearly a thousand workers lost to accidents and the unforgiving conditions. Later, the Germans discovered they had been deceived. At least six other alien races had been willing to offer them twice the territory on the Moon without demanding a single person in return and for only a single year of first refusal rights. The realization of this betrayal underscored the Draco’s manipulation and left the Germans bitterly aware of how thoroughly they had been exploited.

Around this time, the Antarctic Germans began scouting for territory on Mars. However, the planet presented its own unique challenges. Large sections of Mars were enveloped in atmospheres saturated with highly charged particles, rendering those areas unsuitable for constructing anything reliant on electronics. To complicate matters further, the few viable regions for settlement were already occupied by other extraterrestrial races. These were not the Draco but entirely different alien beings. To secure the land necessary for their ambitious plans, including the establishment of their new base, New Berlin, the Antarctic Germans were forced to build a substantial outpost and engage in fierce battles against these inhabitants. The conflict was intense, spanning nearly a decade and costing the lives of over 17,000 Germans. While this number may seem modest, it represented a significant fraction of their population—comparable to the proportional losses suffered by the Allies in World War II. The impact was devastating, as the casualties disproportionately affected the youngest, most capable, and productive members of their society.

Reeling from the heavy casualties, the Germans realized they needed to replenish their numbers and resources. This urgency drove them to negotiate with the Cabal. They sought not just a treaty but also a supply of people to sustain their operations. This need for manpower and resources explains the dramatic increase in UFO sightings during the early 1950s, including the famous mass sighting over Washington, DC and New York City, in 1952, which spanned two weekends. Some pilots even claimed to have seen humanoid figures piloting these UFOs, giving them the finger before disappearing at incredible speeds. These sightings were, in fact, a show of force by the Germans, an attempt to pressure the Cabal into negotiations.

Despite their efforts, they still couldn’t get the Cabal to engage in talks. Soon after these events, a significant shift occurred. As the Antarctic Germans wrapped up their military campaigns on Mars in 1954, they also made a significant technological breakthrough: the development of memory-wipe technology. This advancement would prove pivotal in the years to come, particularly as they moved forward with their larger plans.

10.

After completing 18 months of rigorous training, Jason officially became a member of the Interplanetary Defense and Reaction Forces (IDARF). He and his platoon were soon shuttled to a cruise ship that would transport them to their first mission. The atmosphere was electric with anticipation, as the soldiers were eager to begin their roles in defending planets under the imminent or active threat of alien invasions.

The primary mission of IDARF was to deploy troops and resources to protect these planets, often acting as the first line of defense against extraterrestrial threats. As one of the earliest recruits, having joined in 1994, Jason’s career within IDARF evolved significantly over time. Starting as a platoon leader, he quickly ascended through various command roles. He served as a company executive officer and later as a company commander. With his promotion to major, Jason took on broader responsibilities, including battalion staff officer, battalion executive officer, and eventually regimental staff officer. Toward the latter part of his service, he returned to the training regiment, where he once again held leadership roles, including company commander and staff officer.

The organizational structure of IDARF was unique and deeply hierarchical. Officers ranked O5 and above—lieutenant colonels, colonels, and generals—were exclusively Mars Germans. Earth-born soldiers, like Jason, were restricted to lower officer ranks, capped at major, and filled most of the enlisted and junior officer positions. This division created an inherent tension, as the German chain of command often regarded Earth soldiers as inferior. Issues within the ranks were frequently blamed on Earth personnel, regardless of their origin or role. The Germans’ deep-seated animosity toward the Cabal extended to Earth-born soldiers, who were often subjected to prejudice and pettiness. Despite these challenges, Jason managed to get along with many of his peers, but the undercurrents of bias from certain of the Germans officers were always present.

IDARF’s strategy relied on a diverse and highly specialized fleet of ships to establish and maintain control over planets and space during combat. At the heart of this fleet were massive, cigar-shaped carriers and wedge-shaped vessels, some spanning up to half a mile in length. These colossal motherships, often dark gray or black with smooth, seamless surfaces, were primarily designed for interstellar travel. They were capable of carrying thousands of soldiers, their ground equipment, and hundreds of smaller combat vessels such as destroyers and cruisers. These smaller ships played a critical role in fleet operations, shielding the larger carriers and facilitating the deployment of troops to exoplanet surfaces.

The motherships were meticulously engineered to withstand the extreme hazards of deep space, including harmful cosmic rays and lethal radiation. Their hulls, approximately a meter thick, were far more robust than the lightweight materials used in conventional spacecraft. Unlike commercial spacecraft, which relied on honeycombed insulation and pressurized metallic surfaces, these ships were fortified with advanced materials, including steel and even a layer of water. This multi-layered construction ensured the safety of both the crew and the equipment in the harsh conditions of interstellar travel. Traditional windows, common in commercial spacecraft, were absent on the cigar-shaped carriers. Instead, specialized openings covered by force fields provided visibility to the outside while maintaining atmospheric integrity. These force fields, similar to those used in ground operations, were designed to contain air and protect against external threats. However, these carriers were not built to enter planetary atmospheres. They remained in stationary orbit, serving as command centers and logistical hubs. From these positions, smaller shuttles were dispatched to planetary surfaces or other ships within the fleet.

A variety of shuttles were employed to meet different mission requirements. Interplanetary travel necessitated one type of shuttle, while combat landings on planetary or lunar surfaces required more heavily armed and armored designs. Evacuations or troop retrievals under fire demanded specialized shuttles built for durability and speed. Occasionally, conventional aircraft, similar to the H-64 Apache attack helicopter, were used when mission conditions permitted. Additionally, smaller, fast-moving vessels were tasked with specific roles, such as transporting cargo across a base or conducting supply runs.

There were shuttles that resembled a combination of a B2 stealth bomber and a space shuttle, offering a sleek yet armored profile. Some were rectangular and box-like, designed purely for function rather than aerodynamics. These were effectively flying tanks reinforced with structural ribs and steel beams, equipped with non-projectile weapons such as lasers, kinetic energy weapons, and gravitronic systems. Transport shuttles came in various sizes, from something as small as a van to as large as a military transport plane like the C5 Galaxy, providing ample room for both troops and equipment. Some were repurposed cargo shuttles with seating in the front section for personnel, resembling the interior of a commercial aircraft. For example, on one mission to retrieve a power cell from a war-torn city, a bus-sized shuttle was used, comfortably fitting twelve soldiers and their gear, though seating was rudimentary, with everyone sitting on the deck. On another mission, a smaller van-sized shuttle was used to move cargo, while a larger combat shuttle, equipped with a rear deck door and central gun, was employed in more intense operations.

These shuttles were highly maneuverable, thanks to their anti-gravity propulsion systems, capable of precise movements in any direction—up, down, sideways, and even 90-degree turns—without inducing nausea for those on board. The anti-gravity technology also created an inertial damping “bubble” around the craft, allowing it to make sharp turns and sudden stops at high speeds without any impact on the passengers. This bubble, an invisible energy field, extended just beyond the craft’s physical boundaries, ensuring that all parts, including any external weapons pods, were protected. This same technology, likely employed in UFOs observed on Earth, would allow such craft to perform extreme maneuvers that would be impossible for any living being to survive without this inertial dampening effect. The energy field was invisible to the naked eye and was designed to accommodate the craft’s structure, including any external equipment like weapons, without the need to deactivate the bubble for firing weapons. Shuttles typically used kinetic energy weapons, which didn’t rely on physical projectiles, making them compatible with the energy field without interference.

The control systems of crafts varied depending on their size and function. Smaller craft, such as those used for transporting equipment around bases, relied on straightforward manual controls, akin to operating forklifts. In contrast, larger shuttles were equipped with sophisticated neural interfaces, allowing pilots to communicate directly with their craft via a mental link. This eliminated the need for verbal commands and added a layer of stealth, as the communication could not be intercepted or monitored. Jason experienced this neural interface firsthand during a mission as a door gunner on a shuttle operation. The helmet he wore connected him to the pilot’s communication system, granting him real-time insight into how the craft was being controlled. Unlike traditional aircraft, where pilots and crew relied on vocal coordination, these pilots engaged silently with their ships through the neural interface, establishing an unbroken mental connection. The system delivered real-time updates on critical metrics such as fuel levels, ammunition counts, and structural integrity. Pilots could even customize the notifications, opting for alerts when specific conditions were met, such as fuel consumption milestones or ammunition depletion.

From the outside, the control panels of these advanced craft appeared minimalistic, with a few aluminum nubs and glass panels that could be touched for basic controls. However, once the neural interface was activated, the control panel transformed. Holographic displays sprang to life, presenting a three-dimensional, fully interactive heads-up display that provided all necessary information, such as altitude, power levels, and other critical data needed to operate the craft effectively. This sophisticated technology enabled a seamless and immersive control experience for the pilots, allowing them to manage complex spacecraft operations with precision and efficiency. Redundancy was another critical design feature of these shuttles. To ensure operational continuity in emergencies, the craft were equipped with multiple layers of control. Each shuttle typically had at least two pilots, with larger models hosting crews of up to 30, though only a few were qualified to fly. Advanced AI systems provided an additional layer of security, capable of taking over flight operations if necessary. These AI systems responded to verbal commands and could pilot the shuttle autonomously, maintaining mission functionality even under extreme circumstances. Complementing the shuttles were drones, a vital component of IDARF’s combat arsenal. These drones, particularly stealth variants, played key roles in offensive and reconnaissance operations. Their advanced camouflage capabilities allowed them to be deployed covertly, providing critical tactical advantages. Whether gathering intelligence or engaging in combat, the integration of AI and drone technology underscored the fleet’s reliance on cutting-edge systems to maintain superiority in any scenario.

Jason later learned that the very fleet that had transported him and his platoon to their first mission operated under layers of secrecy as impenetrable as its hulls. Travel times between planets were deliberately obfuscated through calculated disinformation tactics, ensuring that the crew remained unaware of their mission locations and available methods of travel. For example, a journey that might actually take only a few days could be reported as lasting two weeks. In some cases, the use of advanced portal technology could reduce travel time to mere minutes, yet the crew would often remain uninformed about these capabilities. This veil of secrecy ensured operational security and maintained the mystery surrounding the program’s most advanced technologies.

11.

Antarctica, a landmass roughly the size of the United States, was known to be rich in natural resources, including oil, coal, uranium, gold, and silver. Yet, despite this immense wealth, corporations—renowned for their relentless pursuit of profit, often at great environmental cost—had made no attempts to exploit these reserves. The reason lay in the Antarctic Treaty, a pivotal agreement negotiated between 1955 and 1959 that would determine the fate of the southernmost continent and its untapped resources. The treaty had two components: a public version, which promoted peaceful scientific research and international cooperation, and a classified version, hidden from public knowledge. During this period, two high-profile military-scientific operations, Operation Deep Freeze I and II, were conducted. Officially described as exploratory missions, these operations were, in fact, integral to the treaty negotiations. The stakes were so high that one member of the Cabal reportedly died of a heart attack during the discussions, overwhelmed by the fear of potential public exposure.

When the treaty was officially enacted in 1959, the classified portion reaffirmed the sovereignty of the Antarctic Germans—a critical and contentious element of the negotiations. It also granted them the right to acquire approximately 150,000 personnel from around the world, selected based on strict criteria such as specific IQ thresholds and physical attributes. These individuals would be taken at a time and place of the Germans’ choosing. Publicly, it was assured that these individuals would be well-treated: housed, fed, provided with medical care, and even offered German citizenship after five years of service. Those who declined citizenship were promised safe return to their home countries. However, in reality, these promises were lies. The Antarctic Germans had no intention of honoring such agreements. The people taken under this arrangement were never seen again, their fates sealed by the same ruthless efficiency that enabled the Germans to control the world’s most advanced technologies. This program became infamously known as the “brain drain” of the 1950s and 1960s.

Alongside this, the Antarctic Germans pushed for greater influence within major corporations. They demanded between one and five seats on the boards of companies where their senior executives were already embedded. Additionally, they secured lifetime positions within the executive branches of every government on the planet, ensuring that a Mars German would hold a key role in each administration. With these infiltrations, it became easy for them to rise within corporate and political hierarchies—from vice president to president, leveraging their advanced technologies to fast-track success. Their contributions made them indispensable, cementing their dominance across industries. This strategy, initiated during the mid-20th century, continues to influence global power structures today. The Cabal, though wary of these new players, adopted a pragmatic long-term perspective. With a history spanning nearly a thousand years of surviving regime changes, wars, and upheavals, they believed they could weather this storm as well, maintaining their overarching control despite the challenges posed by the Antarctic Germans.

Ultimately, the Antarctic Germans achieved their goals. They secured permanent government roles, gained access to human resources, and embedded their influence deep within the global power structure. The people they obtained were relegated to menial labor, such as factory work and housekeeping—tasks deemed beneath the standards of their own society. This arrangement allowed the Antarctic Germans to remain focused on advancing their technological projects and solidifying their grip on global influence, ensuring their dominance well into the future.

12.

Jason’s first deployment was to a world he simply referred to “Planet One” due to information compartmentalization and lack of memory. As a platoon leader, his initial mission was to lead his team into a city to gather crucial intelligence, with the ultimate goal to train the locals to defend themselves against an impending threat.

Preliminary intelligence showed that Planet One was slightly larger than Earth, about two percent bigger, with a land-to-water ratio favoring land—60 percent of its surface was landmass, and the remaining 40 percent were vast freshwater lakes filled with fish similar to those found on Earth. There were no deserts, and the planet boasted large, uninhabited regions, particularly in the arctic zones above and below the 60-degree latitude lines. These areas were mostly barren, devoid of the diverse ecosystems that thrive in similar Earthly latitudes. The planet had two moons, adding to its unique, yet strangely familiar, environment. The landscape was lush with flora and fauna reminiscent of Earth—forests filled with trees that looked like pine and oak, which they referred to as “near pines” and “near oaks.” As for the fauna, the ecosystem was teeming with life, though the diversity was surprisingly limited. There were birds, quadrupedal ground animals, but no bipedal animals. This planet had a unique natural beauty that Jason would never forget. However, it lacked the rich variety he was accustomed to on Earth, a fact that struck him early on. It wasn’t something he dwelled on at the time, but looking back, it seemed significant.

The planet was inhabited by humans, though they were slightly smaller than those on Earth, averaging about five feet in height. This smaller stature allowed for easier integration, especially for those not much taller than the natives. Despite their size, they were as robust as any healthy Earth human. They were as intelligent as Earth humans. This gentle civilization had lived peacefully for centuries, with no wars or conflicts, unaware of the looming alien threat—a profound shock that would leave them unprepared to defend themselves. With no weapons at their disposal, their situation was dire. Intelligence suggested that the alien invasion would occur within a specific timeframe. The plan was for IDARF forces to arrive a year before the invasion, providing ample time to prepare for the attack.

The objective was to understand the planet’s social structure, layout, and technological capabilities. This information was vital for formulating a defensive strategy, identifying key resources that needed protection or stockpiling, and determining areas where defensive support was most needed. This reconnaissance was part of the initial phase, before the planetary governments made any public announcements about receiving outside help in the face of an impending invasion. Jason and his men already knew of the local language, implanted to their minds as part of the programming received during training. They would gather intelligence quietly and recon the area under the guise of establishing a trade route from a distant city. The mission was to blend in, becoming indistinguishable members of the city for a period of three to six months, while setting up a trade mission that would facilitate the exchange of goods between cities.

The first city Jason and his men entered was situated by a massive freshwater lake, so vast that the opposite shore was beyond sight, likely as large as the Gulf of Mexico. The platoon dispersed throughout the city, each small group strategically positioned no more than five minutes away from another, though some teams were further to avoid raising suspicion. Their staggered arrival gave the impression of randomness, blending them into the fabric of the city. There were no military uniforms or overt operations; instead, they dressed like the locals, aiming to build trust and learn as much as possible before the aliens arrived. This city, which they had designated as Area 26, welcomed them with an openness that caught them off guard. Their society was deeply rooted in community and neighborliness. Jason and his platoon liked the locals. They were a trusting, friendly, and open society, a stark contrast to the xenophobia the soldiers were accustomed to. The indigenous culture was rich with art, music and innovation. The city was adorned with artwork that was both inspiring and perplexing—industrialized creations that seemed to merge machine materialism with natural forms, reminiscent of something out of a Jules Verne novel. The artwork was everywhere, lining the streets and decorating the city, a sign of the unique creativity of its inhabitants.

The locals had two sexes, and love and partnership played a significant role in their lives. The equivalent of marriage on this planet resembled arranged marriages on Earth. However, the arrangement was far from constraining. While families often sought to strengthen ties with others through these unions, the individuals involved always had the final say. If either party wasn’t willing, the marriage simply wouldn’t happen. This approach ensured that even within the framework of arranged marriages, personal choice and mutual consent were paramount. Marriage was marked by a bonding ceremony rather than the signing of legal documents. This ceremony symbolized the unification of two families, bringing them together in a way that was both sacred and communal. It wasn’t just about the couple; it was about forging a stronger community, binding families in mutual support and shared futures.

Planet One was not unified under a single government, but rather divided into regions, each with its own set of beliefs and governance. The areas Jason became familiar with were governed by a unique system based on guild clans, where social customs and organizational structures were quite distinct from Earth. Socially, families typically remained within the same trade across generations, creating a strong sense of identity and continuity within each guild. When a couple bonded, the custom was for the couple to move in with the bride’s family. This practice led to multi-generational compounds where extended families lived together, each with their own private spaces, but within close proximity to one another. As new generations were born, the compounds would expand to accommodate them, reinforcing the close-knit nature of these communities. What struck Jason as particularly interesting was that despite the custom of moving in with the bride’s family, the society was not matriarchal. Power and responsibilities were shared equally between the matriarch and the patriarch of the family. There were no jobs or roles restricted by gender; women participated in every occupation alongside men, whether it was a guild responsible for heavy lifting, like carpenters handling massive beams, or any other trade. This egalitarian approach helped maintain a balanced social structure where neither sex dominated the other, contributing to the overall harmony of their society.

Education was equally communal and practical. Children were not confined to only learning the trade of their family or guild. Instead, they rotated through various guilds, gaining exposure to different skills and trades. This rotational system served multiple purposes. It distributed the responsibility of educating the youth across the community, preventing any single person from bearing the full burden. It also allowed children to discover their strengths and passions. A child might start in one guild, like carpentry, but through their rotations, they might discover a hidden talent for fishing, or another trade they had never considered. Each trade or profession had its own guild, and leadership within the city or region rotated among these guilds. This rotating system of governance ensured that no single group could dominate or exploit their time in power, fostering a natural balance and a focus on the collective good of the community. Their economy was not driven by money as on Earth. Instead, it was a barter-based system, deeply rooted in the guild structures. Industries were mixed, and they relied on trading services and goods within their communities. This system also provided a safety net for the community. In the event of illness or death, there were always individuals who had been trained in the basics of each trade. This cross-training ensured that the community could continue to function smoothly, even in times of crisis. The guilds on Planet One weren’t just about work—they were about fostering a resilient, interconnected society where everyone contributed to and supported one another.

Interestingly, cities were small, around 800,000 inhabitants, and there were no motorized vehicles. The urban areas ended abruptly at the edge of wild forests, expanding only as necessary. The divide between civilization and wilderness was stark, yet beautifully harmonious, with no sprawling suburbs—just a clear line where nature began and the city ended. Oddly enough, the planet itself was eerily reminiscent of Holland. Cities were crisscrossed with canals, making water the primary mode of transportation. Picture a landscape dotted with narrow waterways, where the urban environment was intricately linked by these canals, much like the picturesque Dutch cities back on Earth.

IDARF commanders maintained a clear policy regarding relationships with indigenous populations: soldiers were encouraged to engage in romantic relationships with locals if it helped build trust and facilitated intelligence gathering. However, these relationships were strictly prohibited from influencing command decisions or operational objectives. Despite these interactions, such relationships were rarely long-lasting. The strongest bonds were always forged within the unit, a dynamic strengthened by shared experiences and, in part, by the nanite enhancements. Soldiers with intuitive empath abilities, in particular, formed connections with their comrades that were far deeper and more profound than anything they might establish with the indigenous people.

Despite the peaceful and welcoming atmosphere, Jason understood there was no possibility of “going native” or deserting, a fantasy some soldiers might have entertained. Advanced tracking systems ensured that escape was not only futile but also met with severe consequences. The punishment for such an attempt could involve a virtual prison, where five years of isolation were condensed into mere minutes of real time. The psychological toll of such an experience was unimaginable, serving as a powerful deterrent that quickly extinguished any thoughts of escape.

Jason pondered the reasons behind the planet’s limited biodiversity, contrasting it with Earth, which he viewed as uniquely dynamic—a kind of cosmic Petri dish. Earth, he believed, had been a site of experimentation for countless eons, where various forces and factions had manipulated life, each pursuing their own goals. It wasn’t just a battleground in the physical sense; it was a crucible of DNA tinkering, where species were introduced, modified, or entirely created in the pursuit of some higher purpose. Certain species, like octopuses, seemed to defy historical origins and evolutionary logic, as though they had simply materialized out of nowhere. Jason suspected these anomalies were the byproducts of ongoing experiments. The idea that Earth was a focal point for such interventions aligned with what he had been taught during his training. Their lessons hinted at numerous races involved in these experiments, but the full scope—the “who” and the “why”—remained frustratingly unclear. What was certain, however, was Earth’s exceptional nature: a world unlike any other, shaped by the clash of competing interests and agendas. In contrast, Planet One felt far simpler, a less intricate world in the grand cosmic design, it lacked the layered complexity and chaotic innovation that made Earth so unique.

13.

In the 1960s, the Cabal found themselves in a precarious position, playing a duplicitous game. Outwardly, they appeared to accept the Antarctic Germans’ demands and influence, but behind the scenes, they were plotting. Always thinking in terms of the long game, they knew they had no immediate options to counter the Germans’ overwhelming technological superiority. The prospect of their secret alliance being exposed was unthinkable, so they reluctantly went along with it, all the while harboring plans to turn the tide.

The Germans’ most significant advantage during this period was their mind-wipe technology, a tool that gave them unprecedented control over information and secrecy. This innovation enabled them to monitor, infiltrate, and disrupt any classified programs that might challenge their dominance. With an extensive network of insiders across governments and corporations, the Germans could identify and neutralize potential threats. Any project encroaching on their technological territory was either shut down entirely or quietly assimilated into their operations, disappearing from public view and reemerging as part of the Germans’ private arsenal. For the Cabal, this technology represented a formidable obstacle. Recognizing the need to establish their own Secret Space Program, they began drafting plans to create a competitive force. Yet, the Germans’ surveillance capabilities, bolstered by their mind-wipe technology, made it nearly impossible for the Cabal to develop new initiatives without the Germans becoming aware. This hindered progress at every turn, leaving the Cabal reliant on the Germans’ limited flow of technology.

Meanwhile, the Antarctic Germans were light-years ahead in technological advancement. Their alliance with the Draco, combined with their engineering ingenuity, had granted them access to unparalleled knowledge and capabilities. They carefully controlled the dissemination of their technology to global governments, releasing only what aligned with their strategic goals while safeguarding their most advanced innovations for themselves. Manipulating government budgets and intelligence structures, the Germans ensured that any project threatening their technological dominance was quietly defunded, privatized, and integrated into their operations.

The relationship between the Germans and the Cabal was complex—a careful balance of cooperation and rivalry. While fundamentally opposed to the Cabal’s overarching agenda, the Germans understood the power dynamics at play and chose to engage with calculated pragmatism. Their formidable presence on Mars and the Moon, coupled with their ongoing alliance with the Draco, solidified their position as an unmatched force. By leveraging their technological edge, they maintained dominance while subtly outmaneuvering the Cabal in key areas. For the Cabal, the Germans were both a rival to be undermined and a partner they reluctantly needed.

14.

Jason had been embedded in a city on Planet One for months, integrating himself within the community as part of the undercover operation. His days were spent blending in, working various local jobs—from hauling goods on carts to helping in small eateries along the city’s intricate network of canals. These canals, vital to the city’s commerce, ranged from narrow streams to broad waterways bustling with barges loaded with merchandise.

As Jason enjoyed his day off by one of these canals on a seemingly ordinary evening, the usual tranquility was disrupted. The local populace began moving en masse toward the beach and the bridge that spanned the major canal connecting the breakwater to the mainland. Something unusual was happening, a deviation from the everyday rhythm of the city that piqued Jason’s attention. Curious, he inquired with a passerby who mentioned that something was falling from the sky. Intrigued and sensing the urgency, Jason abandoned his meal and headed towards the beach. As he crossed the bridge, the air was split by a sonic boom that reverberated through the crowd, causing panic and confusion. Jason hurried to the breakwater’s observation deck for a clearer view. Dodging trees and buildings that obscured his sight, he finally reached a clearing where the full scope of the event unfolded before him. What he saw initially appeared to be a meteor plunging towards the lake.

Utilizing his enhanced vision, a result of the nanite enhancements integrated into his body, Jason zoomed in on the descending object. It wasn’t a natural meteorite but a modified impactor, crudely outfitted with a heat shield designed to prevent it from disintegrating upon re-entry. This wasn’t an act of nature but a kinetic energy weapon—a deliberate act of aggression. A massive rock, sourced from space and equipped with a basic heat shield, had been propelled towards the planet using a mass driver, a type of propulsion system that uses electromagnetic force to launch projectiles at high speeds. This attack method avoided the radioactive fallout of traditional explosives but was no less devastating, with the potential to unleash a massive fusion of concussion and heat upon impact, capable of annihilating anything in its vicinity.

As Jason processed the reality of the situation, the gravity of their mission became starkly apparent. This was no longer a mere observation and integration mission; it was the precipice of an impending war, and they were right at the frontline. Jason was well-versed in the strategies employed by hostile alien forces, one of which was the use of these kinetic weapons to devastate target areas. He knew from his briefings that this method was a favored tactic for initial strikes, designed to “soften up” the surface before further operations. In the moments before impact, Jason’s instincts kicked in. Utilizing a streamlined communication system, he swiftly transmitted a coded message to his platoon. The message was concise but conveyed the urgency: an impactor was incoming, and they needed to enact their standard operating procedures—seek high ground, secure equipment, and remain vigilant.

Jason then turned his attention to the civilians on the observation deck by the canal. He knew the potential devastation a strike could cause, especially if it hit the water—a massive wave could soon follow, threatening everyone in its path. With calm authority, he urged the crowd to move towards safety on the mainland, guiding them without inciting panic. As the crowd hastened across the pedestrian bridge, the impactor struck the freshwater lake. The sky lit up with an ominous glow, a stark herald of the chaos to follow. The impact’s concussion was powerful enough to push a towering wave towards the breakwater. Jason and the fleeing crowd could only run as the wave approached, obliterating structures along the breakwater, erasing them from view as if they were made out of paper. As the threat loomed ominously, Jason spotted an alleyway, sprinted towards it, finding refuge behind a building just as the overwhelming force of the concussion wave struck, demolishing structures above and sending debris flying into the canals. Buildings that had stood moments before were now debris, caught in the wrath of the alien assault. It was a sobering reminder of the true nature of their mission here. Jason had managed to save many, but the battle—this war against an unseen extraterrestrial aggressor—was just beginning.

From his makeshift shelter, Jason witnessed a scene of chaos: the once bustling streets now lay eerily silent but for the groans of injured survivors emerging from the rubble. The magnitude of destruction was vast, with parts of buildings littering the canal and the injured staggering amidst the wreckage. Realizing the urgent need to check on his platoon, Jason made his way to the quarters he shared with fellow soldiers. The streets, previously vibrant with life, were now scenes of desolation. Reaching the building, he grabbed a first aid kit and emergency supplies, unsure if any of his unit had survived. With emergency gear in hand, Jason hurried towards higher ground as another wave surged through the city streets. Though he was far enough from the coast to avoid the full force of the wave, it still reached his chest before he finally found safety on higher terrain.

The initial terror of the attack had passed, but the city was far from safe. Jason learned that the weapon had missed its intended target by miles due to its unguided nature. This error spared the city from complete annihilation but not from severe damage and loss of life. This burden of command weighed heavily on Jason as he continued his work on the devastated planet, helping to restore order and aid the survivors. Stuck far from home, he grappled with the responsibilities of his role and the harsh realities of interstellar conflict, all while striving to uphold his values in the face of alien aggression and military bureaucracy. Meteor strikes devastated various locations across the planet, each impact a blow to the stability and safety of the world’s inhabitants. Jason and his team, possessing advanced knowledge about the alien tactics, were better prepared than the unsuspecting civilians. The invaders had executed a calculated assault, not just targeting populated areas but also aiming kinetic energy weapons at the polar ice caps to melt them rapidly, thereby raising sea levels, causing widespread flooding.

In the city by the lake where Jason was stationed, they were spared the worst of the sea level rise, but coastal regions weren’t as fortunate. Entire cities along the oceans were submerged under 20 to 30 feet of water, wiping out vast populations, leaving hauntingly empty urban landscapes visible only from rooftops where some survivors had taken refuge. The once bustling neighborhoods were now eerily silent, with the water slowly receding but leaving behind a ghostly absence of life. Jason estimated that nearly half of the planet’s inhabitants perished in the ensuing chaos. When he first arrived, the planet was home to around 2 billion souls. By the end of the war, over a billion lives would have been lost. The environmental catastrophe caused an immediate crisis for food and supplies. Jason’s role shifted from military operations to humanitarian efforts, as he worked tirelessly to assist in the recovery. The platoon coordinated with local authorities to provide food and support to the devastated communities, trying to stabilize the city that had narrowly escaped total destruction. Jason spent nearly four years on the planet, deeply involved in the war and its aftermath. The prolonged conflict and the extensive recovery period tested the resilience of both the defenders and the inhabitants, forging bonds forged through shared adversity and a common goal of survival and rebuilding.

After the recovery efforts, Jason and his team focused on the immediate task of organizing the planetary defenses. They worked tirelessly to prepare the locals, turning civilians into soldiers, helping them stockpile supplies, and building defensive structures. The weight of what they were truly up against was something Jason carried heavily. As part of their routine, Jason and his team were out on patrol, embedded with a local platoon—about forty of the indigenous soldiers they referred to as “indigs”. The platoon was moving along the outskirts of a larger city. Unlike Earth, the cities on this planet were sprawling, with no towering skyscrapers. When they needed more space, they simply spread outward.

That day, the first indication that something was amiss came abruptly. They were crossing a wide road, a third of the platoon already exposed on the open avenue, when the enemy opened fire. Jason and his team quickly took cover in a shallow ditch alongside the road, barely 18 inches deep, but it provided just enough protection. The attack was premature; if the enemy had waited until the entire platoon was in the open, the results would have been catastrophic. Fortunately, they didn’t. Behind them stood a three-story commercial building made of stone blocks—about 30 by 15 feet, it offered a much-needed refuge. Off in the distance were scattered residential huts, but they were too far away to be of any use. The team’s standard operating procedure was to fall back to a structure that could provide adequate cover, and this building was their best option. As they moved, Jason’s team laid down covering fire, allowing the rest of the platoon to fall back into the building. The enemy fire was coming from the other side of the road, within a dense forested area. At first, the attackers were mere shadows, barely visible through the trees. The soldiers couldn’t tell who—or what—they were up against.

The intel Jason’s team received before deployment was frustratingly incomplete. There had been no prior warning, no detailed descriptions of what they were about to face. Jason suspected that information was kept from them, and they were about to pay the price for it. As they took cover in the building after the first shots were fired from the woods, Jason could sense the tension rising among his men. The enemy was using some kind of cryogenic weapon, something beyond anything Jason had encountered before. But the horror of what they were facing wasn’t limited to the weapons. After securing their position, Jason and the platoon leader made their way to the roof to return fire. That’s when the full horror of the situation hit them. The screams of the soldiers echoed through the building as the enemy came into view.

15.

In the early 1970s, a significant shift occurred as the Antarctic Germans’ 25-year first refusal rights with the Draco came to an end. With this newfound freedom, they turned their focus toward advancing their own technology, particularly in building a fleet of interstellar ships and crafts.

Meanwhile, the Cabal continued its precarious dance of cooperation and rivalry with the Antarctic Germans. Although fundamentally opposed to the Germans, they were forced to tread carefully, knowing they lacked the technological edge to confront them directly. During this period, the public space race between the USSR and the USA served as a cover for deeper, more secretive agendas. Both superpowers funneled enormous resources into their space programs—not solely for exploration, but as a means of developing their own spacefaring capabilities. At the highest levels, there was covert communication between East and West, united by a common enemy: the Antarctic Germans. Yet, despite this clandestine cooperation, the Cabal remained hindered by the Germans’ advanced mind-wipe technology. By the late 1970s, the Cabal made a bold and audacious move to close this gap. After years of meticulous planning, they succeeded in acquiring one of the Germans’ coveted mind-wipe devices. The operation was carried out with the utmost secrecy, rivaling the covert nature of the Manhattan Project. Thousands were indirectly involved, but only five individuals—three CIA operatives and two KGB operatives—knew the full scope of the mission. These agents were guarded relentlessly until the operation was complete.

The plan was audacious. The operatives infiltrated an Antarctic German shuttle, subdued the crew, and successfully stole a mind-wipe device. To cover their tracks, they rigged the shuttle to self-destruct, likely placing a bomb on the outside of the fusion bottle, causing the shuttle to disintegrate in a fiery explosion over the Pacific. The agents made their escape using a high-altitude, low-opening parachute jump, timing their exit just before the explosion. The meticulous execution left no evidence of their involvement. It took the Cabal three years to reverse-engineer the stolen mind-wipe technology. In a chilling twist, the very scientists responsible for the breakthrough became its first victims—they were mind-wiped to erase their memories of the project. This ensured that the Cabal’s work remained secret, allowing them to use the technology without fear of exposure. The acquisition of mind-wipe technology was a turning point for the Cabal. It finally allowed them to conduct clandestine operations without the constant risk of German surveillance and sabotage. With this newfound security, the Cabal made substantial advances in the early 1980s, including laying the groundwork for Operation Solar Warden, their own Secret Space Program. However, the secrecy surrounding the acquisition of this technology was so paramount that almost all the operatives involved in the operation were eliminated afterward. Of the five individuals who knew the full scope of the mission, only two CIA agents survived. These agents spent the remainder of their lives in hiding, demonstrating the extreme measures taken to maintain the secrecy of this critical breakthrough.

The Cold War was more of a facade than an actual conflict. The rivalry between the USSR and the USA was publicly portrayed as a struggle for global supremacy, but behind closed doors, both sides were secretly collaborating against a common enemy: the Antarctic Germans. This covert collaboration allowed both nations to channel vasts sums of money into black programs and the development of advanced technologies, far from the public eye.

16.

As the enemy came into view, the creatures were unlike anything Jason had ever seen. They stood eight to nine feet tall, a terrifying hybrid of machine and biology. Their skin was black, with tufts of dark gray fur poking through the gaps in their armor. Tubes and mechanical joints were visible, a grotesque melding of flesh and technology. Their claws, both on their hands and feet, were massive, designed for tearing through anything in their path. But it was their faces that sent a chill down Jason’s spine—their snouts, short but packed with razor-sharp teeth, were built for killing.

“What the heck is that?” someone yelled. The werewolf-like creatures moved with a terrifyingly fast walk—steady, relentless. They weren’t in any hurry because they didn’t need to be. But their true agility became apparent soon enough. Instead of trying to breach the first floor where the soldiers were entrenched, these monsters leaped from the ground directly to the roof, covering the distance in an instant. Jason barely had time to react before the creatures were upon them, attacking with a ferocity that none of the soldiers had been prepared for. The battle that followed was brutal, a desperate struggle for survival against an enemy that was as unrelenting as it was deadly. They could leap, and when they did, it was terrifying. The creatures weren’t particularly fast, but their ability to cover vast distances in a single bound made them all the more menacing. Once they closed the gap and reached melee range, they discarded their weapons—blades and projectiles harnessed to their bodies—without a second thought. That’s when they switched to their claws and teeth, and the real horror began.

Facing these nine-foot-tall monsters, Jason and his unit were overwhelmed by a fear unlike anything they had ever experienced. The psychological impact of seeing these beasts charge, fangs bared and claws outstretched, was almost as devastating as the physical threat they posed. It was natural to think that these creatures were trying to eat them, but they soon realized it wasn’t about feeding. It was about extermination. These creatures took no prisoners, and neither did they accept surrender. Jason’s unit tried to capture one, to no avail. These creatures were programmed to fight to the death. There was no surrender protocol, no consideration for self-preservation. They fought with a relentless, almost mechanical determination, right until their last breath. It was chilling, another reminder of just how alien their enemy was.

The first wave hit them with about 50 of these creatures, while Jason’s group numbered only 40. The initial exchange of fire was grimly ineffective. Their standard-issue .38 caliber automatic weapons did little more than irritate the creatures. The secondary weapons, heavier .50 caliber rifles, were more useful, but with only five rounds per magazine and just 15 rounds per person, they were woefully under-equipped for a sustained fight. While these rifles finally began to inflict real damage, it came too late—the platoon had already lost eight soldiers. The second wave was even more ruthless. Nearly a hundred creatures surged forward, giving the soldiers no chance to regroup. The overwhelming numbers quickly turned the battle into chaos, and most of the platoon had already exhausted their ammunition. The beasts fought with a ferocity and brutality that defied comparison to any earthly predator. Once they closed the distance, the creatures would latch onto their targets, using their immense weight and razor-sharp claws to tear through flesh and bone. At first, Jason and his team were completely unprepared, scrambling to adapt to the creatures’ savage tactics. They learned how to counter their attacks only through the unforgiving reality of trial by fire—a steep, bloody, and harrowing process.

The aliens themselves were divided into two distinct classes. The soldier class behaved like drones, single-mindedly following orders with no concern for self-preservation. In contrast, the commander class displayed a higher level of intelligence, orchestrating the actions of their subordinates with calculated precision. This hierarchy gave the creatures a critical edge, transforming what appeared to be a chaotic onslaught into a meticulously coordinated and dangerously strategic attack. In the end, survival came down to combat knives, fixed bayonets, and sheer grit. The soldiers wielded their rifles as makeshift spears, but even that provided only a slim chance at survival. They quickly realized that the only way to stay alive was to fight as a team; one-on-one, these towering beasts were unstoppable. The creatures’ incredible reach and overwhelming strength made any solo encounter a near-certain death sentence. Jason found himself in the midst of the melee, forced into brutal hand-to-hand combat. He fought desperately with whatever he could grab, watching helplessly as comrades fell just feet away, each moment a harrowing fight for survival.

The harsh reality was that the outcome of many engagements might have been drastically different if they had been permitted to use their combat armor suits. These suits were designed for far more than just protection; they could have changed the tide of the war much earlier had they been used to their full extent. The soldier’s standard uniforms, known as battle defense uniforms, featured a digicam pattern—a heavily pixelated design in shades of green, dark green, grays, and whites. This pattern was more than just camouflage; it could be altered depending on the environment. Holographic uniforms were remarkable pieces of equipment, which allowed soldiers to blend seamlessly into their surroundings. When stationary, the wearer was nearly invisible, with only a slight blur of the background giving them away if they moved.

These uniforms were designed to conceal infrared signatures, radio signals, and other outputs that might betray their presence. The quantum entangled communication systems, integrated with their nanite enhancements, were undetectable, ensuring secure communication even in the heat of battle. The helmet that accompanied the uniform was equally advanced, incorporating all the holographic camouflage systems to ensure the soldier was completely concealed. The technology used in these uniforms wasn’t merely about projecting the background; it created a field that was slightly out of phase with the current dimension, reminiscent of the infamous Philadelphia experiment, where a naval ship was reportedly phased out of existence. This phasing technology was a significant advantage, allowing soldiers to move undetected. Jason and his comrades had fun testing the limits of this technology during training on Mars, with the stealthiest among them able to sneak up and blow on someone’s ear without being noticed. The phase difference could be detected by a trained eye, particularly if someone was moving, making the technology incredibly effective even during airborne operations or drops.

However, Jason discovered the hard way that their camouflage systems were flawed. These systems failed when more than two or three soldiers were grouped together. The electronic signatures were somehow picked up by the enemy. The realization came too late—after they’d already lost too many lives. The team even ran their own tests, trying to figure out why they were being localized so easily despite their supposedly advanced camouflage. The enemy seemed to always know where they were, even when they were perfectly hidden from sight and infrared detection.

After the first harrowing encounter, the true nature of the opponent became clearer. These creatures were not just another combatant; they were engineered for destruction. The urgency for more advanced weapons was self-evident, but Jason quickly realized that the situation was far more complicated than simply requesting better tools for survival. When he and his team returned from that first battle, demanding answers and better equipment, they were met with a cold response. The questions they raised were swiftly dismissed as being “above their pay grade.” They were told to make do with what they had, to focus on their mission of training the local population to defend their planet. Advanced technology, they were informed, was off-limits. The official reasoning given was that introducing advanced technology could disrupt the natural progression of the local civilization. Jason recognized that this could be a legitimate concern, as advancing a society too quickly could have unforeseen consequences. However, he knew this wasn’t the true motive behind the restriction. The real reason was buried under layers of manipulation and control, a truth they weren’t permitted to explore.

When Jason and his surviving comrades finally returned to headquarters after each bloody encounter, their anger and frustration were palpable. They demanded answers—where was the intelligence? Why hadn’t they been informed about the nature of the enemy they were facing? Instead of answers, they were met with indifference. They were told to suck it up, to keep pushing forward despite the overwhelming odds. Command eventually responded by doubling the standard ammunition load from 15 to 30 rounds. While this was an improvement, it still fell short of what was needed.

The battles were countless, each more grueling than the last. Jason sustained numerous injuries—cuts, scrapes, deep wounds—but thanks to the nano-enhancement therapies he received, his body healed rapidly. Even a deep gash on his right arm, inflicted during that first combat experience, began to heal by the end of the day. These therapies ensured that he bore no scars from these battles when he returned from his 20-year deployment. The technology had advanced to the point where it could erase the physical reminders of his wounds, though some mysterious scars did reappear later, unexplained and troubling. The speed and timing of the healing process played a significant role in whether or not these scars would form, adding another layer of complexity to the already surreal experience. Despite the physical healing, the psychological and emotional toll of those countless battles and the constant threat of death left marks that no advanced technology could erase. Jason continued to fight, knowing that he was a pawn in a larger game of manipulation and control, yet driven by the need to survive and fulfill his mission on Planet One.

Over the course of four years on Planet One, Jason’s platoon repeatedly arrived as reinforcements to battle zones only to be met with empty silence. Time and time again, they found no survivors—every indigenous soldier had fallen, their bodies bearing witness to a desperate final stand against the unforgiving enemy. The scenes were always the same: fighters with no ammunition left, forced into savage hand-to-hand combat, where the enemy’s brutal efficiency gave them the upper hand.

17.

Operation Solar Warden represented Earth’s ambitious attempt to establish a formidable space fleet, extending its power beyond the planet’s surface and marking humanity’s first true foray into the cosmos. Spearheaded by the United States, this initiative sought to build bases and project influence across the solar system, cementing Earth’s presence in space.

The groundwork for Solar Warden was laid during the late 1970s and early 1980s, a period of rapid technological advancement and covert military activity. President Reagan himself alluded to this program in his diaries, referencing a space shuttle capable of housing 300 men—an unmistakable nod to Solar Warden. The program was conceived as a direct response to the advanced spacefaring capabilities already demonstrated by the Antarctic Germans. The United States sought to emulate and surpass these achievements by developing its own fleet and extending its influence to other planetary bodies. The United States did succeed in this endeavor, eventually establishing a base on the Moon, akin to the one the Germans had.

In 1986, the Antarctic Germans had grown suspicious after the mysterious shuttle explosion over the Pacific, where the mind-wipe wand had been stolen. Although they couldn’t immediately identify the perpetrators, their investigation eventually led them to uncover the truth. Realizing that the stolen technology had fallen into the hands of the United States and the USSR, the Germans’ retaliation was swift and ruthless.

The Germans enacted a twofold strategy in response. First, they relocated all manufacturing and research operations off Earth, consolidating their activities on their Mars facilities to minimize further vulnerabilities. Second, they sent a chilling warning to the superpowers, one that would leave an indelible mark. The first act of retribution came with the destruction of the Challenger space shuttle in February 1986, obliterated by a strike from an orbital platform. The second came with the catastrophic failure of the cooling towers at Chernobyl, a devastating attack cloaked in secrecy and confusion but unmistakable in its intended message. These calculated acts asserted the Germans’ dominance and served as a dire warning against further incursions into their territory or theft of their technology.

Despite their superior position, the Antarctic Germans exercised restraint. They recognized the unpredictable temperament of President Reagan—a leader they viewed as a “cowboy”—and the risk of nuclear escalation should they push too far. To underline their message without further destruction, they delivered an ominous token to the leaders of the United States and the USSR. Each received a plain brown box containing a non-operational memory-wipe device adorned with the Antarctic German coat of arms. On the box, the exact date and time of the shuttle explosion eight years earlier were stamped, a chilling reminder of their long reach and unassailable power.

18.

Outgunned, outnumbered, and facing creatures that were bigger and stronger, Jason’s unit faced a grim reality on Planet One. Survival, let alone victory, seemed like a distant hope. Initially, their hands were tied—command wouldn’t authorize the use of advanced technology. The higher-ups had their reasons, though none that made sense to the men on the ground. As the war dragged on and casualties continued to mount, command finally introduced better weaponry, allowing the tide to turn—though the shift was painstakingly slow. Against all odds, Jason’s unit fought their way through, taking down the creatures one by one until the last of them fell. It was a victory, but a hollow one, won at a great cost. The memory of that battle, of the terror and the bloodshed was something he would never forget.

It became clear that this was more than just a battle for survival. It was a form of combat Darwinism, a brutal method of weeding out the weaker soldiers, of forcing the survivors to become tougher, stronger, more capable. The command knew what they were doing. They were deliberately placing the troops in impossible situations, seeing who would break and who would rise to the challenge. Those who made it through were marked, groomed to lead others through the hell that awaited them. The command structure, controlled by the Mars Germans, had a stringent protocol: only those who had survived at least one deployment were deemed fit to train others. This rule ensured that every trainer had firsthand experience of combat, a requirement that Jason found both practical and harsh. Jason was not immediately destined to become a teacher; he remained on the front lines for the entire four-year duration of the conflict. Despite the anger, despite the losses, he understood the cruel logic behind it. But it didn’t make it any easier. The sense of betrayal lingered, a bitter reminder of the price they were paying.

And yet, there was a deeper purpose to all of this, one that went beyond the battles and the bloodshed. Jason knew that what he was experiencing, what he was enduring, was part of something bigger. It was all leading to a truth that needed to be brought to light, a truth that, one day, would help others understand the hidden forces at play. And in that knowledge, there was a strange sense of resolve. In the end, that knowledge was what kept Jason going. It was the understanding that, no matter how brutal the fight, no matter how high the cost, there was a reason for it all. And in that reason, he found the strength to continue, to fight on, to see this mission through to the very end.

The war on Planet One lasted 47 grueling months. It was a relentless campaign, each day marked by uncertainty and survival. Jason and his unit fought through countless battles, never knowing if each victory would be their last or if more enemy forces would break through the naval blockade. By the end of those four years, the last of the invading units had been defeated, but there was still no certainty. The threat of more invaders lingered in the air like a storm that had not yet passed.

But then, without closure, Jason’s unit was redeployed to another world. The war on Planet One might have been over, but the soldiers were left with unanswered questions, never truly knowing if their efforts had fully secured the planet. Yet, it was a place where Jason and his fellow soldiers had fought, bled, and nearly died. It was a world that had changed him, as much as it had been changed by the war that raged upon its surface. And though he was about to leave it behind for another battle on another world, the memory of Planet One—the people, the battles, and the strange, yet familiar, life—would stay with him forever. Orders came swiftly, as they always did. When it was time to leave, everyone packed their gear, loaded up the shuttles, and prepared to depart from Planet One. There was no lingering or farewells—just the cold efficiency of soldiers trained to follow commands without question. The shuttles lifted off, their cargo holds filled with troops and equipment, heading toward the cigar-shaped motherships waiting in orbit. The journey from Planet One to the next world was a blur. The distance between the two planets was a mystery, obscured by the limitations of information deliberately withheld from the soldiers. It could have been a thousand light years or just the next system over. Time and space blurred in the void of interstellar travel.

It was on this next planet that Jason met Johann, a fellow officer of German descent and a member of the Mars German civilization. Johann wasn’t like the stereotypical Mars German officer Jason had come to expect—arrogant, aloof, and radiating a sense of superiority. This attitude, Jason suspected, stemmed from their genetic modifications, which made them stronger, faster, and more intelligent than average humans. Johann acknowledged this arrogance as a cultural flaw but proved himself different. He was thoughtful, knowledgeable, and, most surprisingly, willing to share insights others wouldn’t dare discuss. In Johann, Jason found not only an ally but also a rare window into the shadowy truths that shaped their reality. During their conversations, Jason learned that the Mars Germans had been altering their genetics since their civilization broke away, creating a society that was genetically enhanced in various ways. However, these discussions were strictly off-limits around senior officers or any recording devices, highlighting the secretive nature of their knowledge and the historical details they were privy to. Johann’s understanding of advanced technology far surpassed that of the other trainees, which led Jason to realize that Johann and his people were educated in ways that Earthlings were not. They knew much more about their own history, especially concerning events before and after World War II, their interactions with alien species, and the lessons learned from those encounters.

Their friendship developed quickly, and Johann began sharing intelligence with Jason about the secret history of space programs dating back to World War I, as well as the hidden motives of IDARF. This knowledge wasn’t delivered in mere words but as telepathic transfers—immersive experiences that included emotions, visual memories, and an unfiltered understanding of the events. Johann shared psychic images of the Draco—tall, menacing figures whose presence loomed over the negotiations and that horrific exchange where they took 278 prisoners from the Antarctic Germans in the cavern. The images were vivid, etched deeply into Jason’s mind, but it was the emotions that accompanied them that truly haunted him. The fear, the crushing sense of dread, and the malevolent aura emanating from these beings were almost tangible, even through the psychic transmission. It was an experience Jason wouldn’t wish on anyone, and one he felt grateful to have witnessed only secondhand.

Johann had seen Dracos in person, though only from a distance. His family on Mars, particularly in New Wurzburg, had connections that placed him in IDARF, which was where he wanted to be. He mentioned that some of his family members had direct interactions with the Draco. But these interactions were rare and deeply unsettling. The Draco, in their arrogance, deemed most humans unworthy of their time. They communicated only with a select few, those in positions of authority, when absolutely necessary. Johann’s family, due to their status, had those unfortunate encounters, but even Johann himself was spared direct contact. The Draco didn’t just see themselves as superior—they considered themselves practically untouchable, above the human race in every conceivable way. Their disdain for humanity was clear in the way they conducted themselves, speaking only when forced to, and even then, only to those they deemed important enough. It was a terrifying reminder of the cold, calculating forces at play behind the scenes, forces that operated with a brutal efficiency that left no room for empathy or compassion.

The Draco are a formidable group of alien entities, highly psychic and several hundred thousand years more advanced than humanity. They are deeply negative beings, with a mission centered around conquering, controlling, and dominating. Earth has long been one of their targets, and they’ve pursued this goal by manipulating others to act as their proxies, either willingly or unwillingly, to further their agenda. But the question arises: why don’t the Draco simply conquer Earth outright? Why rely on subterfuge and manipulation? The answer lies in their adherence to several intergalactic treaties, which prevent them from directly interfering with or tampering with indigenous populations and their planets. However, these treaties haven’t stopped them completely. They’ve found loopholes, ways to work around these restrictions, primarily by using human proxies to achieve their ends. For the Draco, the use of human proxies serves multiple purposes. Human beings are often seen as a universal blueprint, closely resembling inhabitants on other planets, making them ideal for interacting with other worlds in ways that the Draco cannot. Additionally, from the Draco’s perspective, it’s far more efficient to have humans—through forces like IDARF—fight their battles and expand their influence. This way, they conserve their own resources and soldiers while effectively achieving their objectives through the actions of others.

This is when Jason realized the shocking truth that the Draco, who were commanding IDARF, were also funding and orchestrating the very alien invasions that IDARF was supposedly fighting against, under a false flag. This manipulation served a sinister purpose: to force planetary populations to consolidate under a single government, which in turn would invite these forces in. This government would then establish a centralized financial system, effectively giving these invaders control over the planet. The werewolf-like creatures that attacked Planet One, terrifying hominids with both humanoid and lupine features, were engineered by the Draco as part of their military force. This faction sought not only the planet’s resources but also intended to subjugate its inhabitants as slaves. The conflict was designed to be destructive enough to force the planetary population into desperation without completely ravaging their world. This approach would leave the infrastructure largely intact for the Draco to exploit. Part of the Draco’s insidious plan involved manipulating the planet’s governments. They pushed for the establishment of a single, centralized authority, making it easier to implement control once they decided to overtly take over. Their long-term goal was to replace the existing barter and guild systems with central banks that would further ensnare the population in dependency.

Throughout the conflict on Planet One, Jason and his comrades believed their mission was noble; they thought they were helping to defend these people against external threats. However, they later discovered that their intervention was part of this draconian scheme orchestrated to ultimately dominate planets. As the war unfolded and Jason witnessed the manipulation and devastation firsthand, he realized the dire consequences of their involvement. The peaceful planet, once vibrant and self-sufficient, was left vulnerable and fractured, a shadow of its former self, manipulated into submission under the guise of receiving protective aid.

Jason understood now that the refusal to use advanced technologies and weapons was no simple matter of not wanting to disrupt the local culture. The restrictions were part of a calculated plan, designed by those in power to ensure that the planetary population would be decimated. The goal wasn’t to save the people of Planet One; it was to weaken them to the point where they would be desperate enough to accept any terms of surrender. It wasn’t sheer force and strategic cunning that won the war. The werewolf-like invaders, terrifying as they were, had built-in flaws. These creatures were never meant to win the war—they were designed to lose. The Draco, the masterminds behind the invasion, had a larger plan in play. They didn’t want to annihilate the planetary population; they wanted to control it. The endgame was always about domination, not destruction. The invaders were just a tool—a means to an end, to weaken the planet’s defenses and force the population into a corner where they would have no choice but to beg for the Draco’s “help.”

The plan was sinister in its simplicity. Weaken the planet with these monstrous invaders, reduce the population, and then sweep in as the saviors. It was a theatrical operation from the start, orchestrated by the Cabal and the Draco to push the planet swiftly toward their version of order—a world controlled and subjugated under their influence.

19.

By the late 1980s, Operation Solar Warden was in full swing, and the Cabal urgently needed a lunar base. However, they encountered a familiar problem: the Moon was already claimed. To secure a location, they needed to negotiate, bribe, or arrange for someone else to relinquish their property. The Mars Germans, who already had an established base on the Moon, became the Cabal’s target for negotiation.

The Cabal’s unease stemmed from the Mars Germans’ formidable military power, particularly their fleet of 12 carrier battle groups, which were routinely deployed on long-term exercises. These battle groups represented a significant threat, as the mere presence of such a force in contested space risked escalating into open conflict. The Mars Germans, having largely relocated their civilization from Antarctica to Mars, were strategically distancing themselves from the Draco. They had already planned to move their lunar operations to a different site, away from the nefarious reptilian influence. The Moon base in question had been leased from the Draco under a 100-year agreement, with all payments already settled. However, the lease required the Mars Germans to find a new tenant before vacating the property. This stipulation opened the door to negotiations with the Cabal. The resulting 1991 agreement was a pivotal turning point in solar system politics, marking a major transfer of power.

In exchange for taking over the lunar property, the Cabal agreed to provide the Mars Germans with two divisions of soldiers, amounting to 24,000 troops, to be deployed wherever and whenever the Mars Germans required. Additionally, the Mars Germans agreed to hand over 10 of their 12 carrier battle groups to the Draco. The Draco vaguely described the purpose of these carriers as “border patrol.” Each carrier group included four divisions of ground troops: two divisions composed entirely of Mars Germans and two mixed divisions that incorporated soldiers from both Earth and Mars. This arrangement significantly shifted the balance of power. With 10 of their carrier groups reassigned and effectively blockaded out of the solar system under Draco control, the Mars Germans lost much of their immediate military presence in the region. This development emboldened the Cabal, granting them increased freedom to expand their operations on Earth and beyond. The transfer of lunar operations command to the Cabal, in exchange for 24,000 soldiers, was a pivotal moment that marked the creation of IDARF.

There are numerous Secret Space Programs (SSPs) operating worldwide, with the United States leading the charge through its ambitious program, Operation Solar Warden. The USSR developed its own SSP concurrently, which is likely the oldest after the US. Other nations such as Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa established their own programs. The US initiative remains the largest and most advanced. Within the US military, both the Air Force and Navy run separate space programs, further showcasing its extensive efforts. Various international alliances have formed over time, involving nations like the UK and France in these covert endeavors. Meanwhile, some third-world countries, lacking the resources to develop their own SSPs, contribute personnel to allied programs, ensuring their participation in these secretive operations.

While there is no formal governing body to prevent interference between these programs, the Cabal plays a significant role in overseeing many of them. However, the BRICS countries—Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa—have developed a force large and independent enough to resist being easily overpowered by the Cabal’s SSPs. In the early 1990s, the Cabal disclosed the existence of their SSP to global leaders, revealing a program they had been building since the 1980s. The USSR, already aware of these developments, had intelligence assets that observed unusual activities. They noticed new types of craft appearing—distinct from traditional UFOs—indicating that the US was engaged in something unprecedented.

This revelation spurred other nations and even wealthy families to either develop, steal, build, or acquire their own space programs. These efforts ranged from creating small ships and shuttles to constructing larger vessels. Countries with fewer resources formed alliances, pooling their assets to create collaborative SSPs. With multiple SSPs in existence, they inevitably compete with one another. Alliances and conflicts naturally arise, much like in any human endeavor. The Alliance consists of groups and individuals who were either hunted down or betrayed by the Cabal, forcing them to band together out of sheer survival. Many within the Alliance are people who once held positions within the Cabal but became disillusioned with its actions and objectives. Among them are families that, while perhaps not possessing vast material resources, have significant financial assets that they can leverage to either help, join, or buy their way into the Alliance. However, not all members of the Alliance are morally upright. Many of them were deeply involved in the Cabal’s operations and share responsibility for the actions that have taken place. Their decision to join the Alliance often stems more from a desire for self-preservation than from any noble intentions.

The Cabal’s efforts to maintain control and protect its agenda are extensive. A stark example is the case of Admiral James Forrestal, a prominent patriot and mentor to President Kennedy. In 1945, Forrestal accompanied JFK to Germany to witness advanced German technology firsthand. His deep knowledge and moral convictions made him a liability. Branded a suicide risk, Forrestal was confined to a secure military hospital and later died under suspicious circumstances, reportedly thrown from a window at Bethesda Naval Hospital in 1949. His death is widely believed to have been orchestrated by the Cabal to silence him.

The Cabal, bound by agreements with certain alien societies, is compelled to adhere to specific disclosure requirements. These disclosures often take the form of partial truths, misleading narratives, or fragments of reality. By planting these revelations in popular culture, such as science fiction and Hollywood films, the Cabal can later claim that they had been truthful all along. This tactic allows them to deflect accusations of deceit by framing their disclosures as creative interpretations of actual events.

20.

The next deployment took Jason to another world that he, similarly, could only call “Planet Two”. The mission there stretched over an extensive 67 months, facing off against a newly engineered and utterly terrifying enemy…

To be continued!