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| Art by Christopher Jones. |
THE DASHQI ENCOUNTER
By Scott Weller
"Computer, begin dictation software..."
ADVANCED TECHNOLOGIES ACQUIREMENT GROUP - Report: 045161
Date: 26th February, 1991
From: Professor Hennis Sundvik - Special Projects Division
To: All Board Members - Brussels head office, Elite Scientific Department Alpha - Team 'Progeny'.
Current report status: TOP SECRET - recipients' eyes only. Electronic document watermark in place.
REPORT BEGINS... The small community of Dashqi - location: five miles from the uppermost tip of the Iranian border, whose location, as seen from a map, looks like a craggy knife entering the back of its unexpected Iraqi neighbour. Population: less than fifty, farmers mostly, as well as shepherds' making a meagre existence for their families across such a bleak, spread-out land, whilst turning a blind eye to the horrors, madness and death taking place not too far distance. A time of war and death begun by the Iraqis, of soldiers, under the command of fierce generals and their supreme commander, and tyrannical despot, Saddam Hussein, whose eyes and motives had been prior grasped on power, greed and carnal lust where they could get it- primarily from the rich and vulnerable state of their other neighbour Kuwait, as the gulf war between Iraq and Coalition Forces, primarily American, continued apace. Dashqi - a lonely undisturbed place for the most part - where only the occasional bleating of sheep and goats and the swaying of winds break the overall monotony, within an expanse bearing little or no intrinsic value to anybody apart from its potential as a possible safe haven escape route for fleeing members of Saddam's Republican Guards, or for illegal crossings for unusual business. Dashqi - an insignificant little arena that would soon have significant value to our organisation's ongoing plans, in ways beyond anything ever anticipated, as you, distinguished ladies and gentlemen, my esteemed colleagues and employers, will soon discover from this security report.
Such a momentous moment in the company's history would start with an unusual sensor reading picked up by one of our solitary, no longer quiet deep space security satellites orbiting our small blue green sphere. An anomalous reading, of something that had suddenly and incredulously 'appeared' to the world map, and to our zealous eyes, that had never been seen before. An intermittent energy reading gaining strength too, unknown in its readings to either myself or the rest of the small, soon assembled team under my scientific command and watchdog. Automatically, our zealous, highly efficient security procedures were initiated, nay ruthlessly, by our greatest computer tech teams (hackers no more with the prices we are paying them, I might add), boosted by our own sensors technology that's ten years ahead of the competition (no longer including the corrupted, stymied fools of NASA and the JPL), initiating their silent and unstoppable attack on the world and other rival so-called 'weather satellites' also occupying their own similar Earth orbit positions, and whose own abilities to find this new phenomena would be blocked by our supreme artificial intelligence programme (the finest acquirement yet from the Scottish Carn mountain summit 'encounter' of 1978), if only for a minimum of twenty-four hours. A time to act, investigate and reap whatever could be found in this pitiful region now identified as Dashqi. Had the local populace even discovered it yet, I wondered to myself? Doubtful, but not impossible, though what could they do was surely very little. And as for garnering other attentions? Well, the nearest downgraded military personnel in Iran were occupied with other business, namely security, whist the shattered legions of the once proud Iraqi army, on the other side of the desert oasis, primarily via its never really effective Republican Guard (it's still hard to believe that that rogue Hussein was once such an important ally to ATAG) had other distracted priorities thanks to ole 'Stormin' Norman' and his gung-ho American armies, crusading on and trying to initiate the tyrant's people into a unique uprising against him. Yes, war makes for fine opportunities, and time was indeed still on our side with the new discovery, even if one of the warring sides might send an exploratory taskforce out for their own benefits.
With one of ATAG's luxurious and tech-heavy private jets comfortably speeding myself and my pared- to-necessity three man/one woman team to Tehran with all the equivalent thrust of a Concorde, with any local Iranian radio and observation posts having been immediately silenced by our agents, or bribed into turning the other way from their detection screens, the picturesque buildings and green/blue climes that had once been above us with our Brussels base soon transformed into the bleached white and yellow realms of that almost other world that was Iran, whose lands were so near to focal points of ongoing chaos, murder and destruction that had been waging since the previous August, a grisly affair launched by the original aforementioned invasion of Kuwait and the now ongoing attempts to 'liberate' Iraq for the criminality it had briefly but so successfully achieved. As the plane's tyres made their necessary screeching touch down at a closed-off part of the commercial (REDACTED) airport without incident, having additionally travelled low under the radars with prototype screening technology that was proving successful with ongoing use, a further elite team of specially bribed civilians, as well as our private police force, marked our arrival with calm efficiency. Also readying to touch down, a unique obsidian coloured helicopter that looked like an adapted Twin-Huey attack vehicle, appearing almost like a flying predatory shark and whose intimidating presence briefly blotted out the sunscape before stealthily settling near our refuelled jet, its whirring blades and heavy engines breaking the once calm and the searing heat waves that were enveloped around us. From the 'copter emerged an expectant sight to see: an elite force of six private security men and one equally formidable woman, former mercenaries from across the world, all known to me if not personally from previous encounters but via special files that only a few privileged people like myself (and you the reader/s) are allowed to see. Once more they were being led by the intimidating force of nature that was their bold, respected and to-be-feared leader of fortune, glory and brutality, Lennox Arcadian. As a thin Marrakech brand cigarette firmly embraced the left side of his mouth, high stubbled cheekbones kept the rest of his brutally weathered but not undistinguished face in check as the expansive brand sunglasses were removed and cold blue eyes replaced them so as to briefly acclimatise to the intense sun above. Eyes that steely observed his intensely busy surroundings, then near immediately focused themselves, like searing laser beams, on both myself and the rest of the scientific team, firstly with mild disdain, for sure, before realizing once again how important we were and how necessary our incredible paychecks and 'bonuses' could be, especially now.
My team and I did indeed look like a puny rabble of sorts, not just to Arcadian but I'm sure to any of the other locals around us on the tarmac. But we were a puny rabble that had secret agendas and clear scientific prowess that had been yielding success in this latter half of mankind's twentieth century, as well as being powerful influencers, especially of the forementioned monetary kind, in ways that always piqued Arcadian's interests in the special missions that we, the company, used his own unique talents for. Missions that ranged from locations like the depths of the arctic wastes to the dangerous sweaty climes of war zones ripe for exploration, including the recent excursions into Angola. Arcadian had gone on thirty missions so far for his 'employers', and nearly all of them had been successful and lucrative, his special retrieval efforts and protection skills adding to the overall building power of ATAG as a technological and scientific corporation to be reckoned with, as indeed were Arcadian's own special operators in their own bone-crushing ways, all skilled in unique combat talents. The six males were of diverse ages and backgrounds that weren't quite easy to pin down (some of whom no loner existed on military background records - long since 'deceased' in many ways), and Arcadian himself could either have been in his late thirties or early fifties for all we knew (such small details on his biographical data having long been altered or deleted with his freelance work career) but clearly all were in prime physical condition, alongside one sensual brunette female, the Peruvian-born enigma Dayana, with her gorgeous almond coloured skin, resplendent mane-like black hair and alluring green eyes that made her a true beauty, yet accentuated with a trial of combat aura and physicality to her, the sides of her cheeks betraying uniquely varied in size scarring from some kind of blade work linked to her own skilled talents that especially set her aside from her team mates. And yet the scars only added to her 'don't go there' allure that always enraptured myself and my colleagues, both male and female. Dayana's attitude, both in the realms of mental and physical abilities, linked to her 'gifts' could clearly strip a man or enemy to the bone, whilst ripping out and likely eating our collective hearts, should she choose to do so.
As the squad now headed towards myself and the team, these special individuals, our ultimate protection against whatever we might find out there in Dashqi, never failed to intimidate, each bearing unique caps with a strange insignia showing what looked like a deformed separated skull with a triple edged blade lodged deeply in its broken forehead. Polished automatic rifles of an unfamiliar type to me glistened on the attached straps around each's toned shoulders, whilst their biceps were glitteringly alive with raw pulsating veins underneath them that looked ready to explode outwards. Further enhancing their mid-sections were a small array of upgraded company grenades that were littered grotesquely in special pockets around their leather waist belts. Meanwhile, in the background, amidst our own plane and Arcadian's copter being readied and fuelled for their next destination at Dashqi, a further similar and intimidating Huey was being slowly removed into position from a once darkened nearby hangar, this one to be used exclusively to convey myself and the scientists. A further ground convoy of back-up, camouflaged coloured heavy good trucks were also on standby too, even as our team was in its final preparations, ready to head towards Dashqi by road from Arak, so as to collect anything large that we might find, and be escorted part way into their journey by another force of ATAG mercenaries, providing more discreet cover. Distractions were also being swiftly initiated across other numerous parts of Iran, and key rival facilities, so as to hamper any potential interlopers. As for the Iraqi's, well, they were no problem, as confirmed by Dayana, our female goddess of slaughter now keenly indicating to us via her unique visualisation of a sliding blade going left to right under her throat accompanied by a soon rabid smile that briefly scared the hell out of myself and the team that remained, nay near drowned, in her subtle but deadly aura.
There was no need for any major talking between Arcadian's team and ours, we were now fully equipped in special reconnaissance jackets, and every part of our clothes pocketed with constructible equipment. As we prepared to depart, Arcadian was already fully aware of the scenario as the final checks and status of the ongoing situation via our mobile computer screens came alive. Our provisions, water and scientific equipment needed for the first stage analysis were ready to go, within boxes that were firmly attached across rungs located on each side of the helicopters' supports, Arcadian now took one last look at the skies and the environment around. "Into the wild blue yonder once again. Eh, professor?" he said to me with resolute conviction, yet tinged with an air of mild insubordination, stubbing out the last remains of his cigarette whilst he and his squad generously helped the last of the boarding scientists, or 'sheep' as the intimidating self-proclaimed joker of Arcadian's team, the ginger hair-spiked Maxy, aired his unique brand of humorous comment at us, taking a sarcastic bow to me as Dayana grabbed at his hair with disdain, treating him like the dangerous man child he truly was. A few moments later, Arcadian had given the "Go!" order to the dedicated pilots, and we were away. Like giant buzzing hornets, our helicopters lifted off near-as-one in their timing, once again near blotting out the sunrise with their skyborne intent and their blades briefly but loudly distorting the morning prayers and charting of the nearby populace before going into silence mode with their secret destination coordinates now locked in.
What once had been relatively clear skies over the heady metropolis of Tehran soon gave way to the silent yet majestic landscape of the Iranian desert regions, comprising dirty grey/brown tipped mountains, sparse greenery and orange yellow sand at ground level during our quiet but electric atmosphere of travel. Through one way viewing screen inside our darkened mildly cramped cockpit no outside journeymen could see who we were, despite one young boy who saw us and waved from a nearby hill which we zoomed over. My team's mood was indeed a state of eager anticipation laced with a very mild and healthy fear of the unknown, yet they were as fully prepared as they could be as part of the ATAG protocols for scenarios like this. In our ears was the constant blip of the pilot's computer screen indicating the position we were rapidly approaching, with weapons locked in case of any unexpected pursuers. But by the time we arrived at the outskirts of our destination (we were playing it safe and not landing directly at the blip location - part and parcel of Arcadian's rules of engagement), the environment outside had now turned to a blitzkrieg of blowing sand and brutal wind. As the sandstorm continued to gain intensity, it was as if the gods themselves were venting their fury at our arrival, so mumbled one of my colleagues to himself, the timid but brilliant Doctor Cartmel (who truly looked like the definition of a blinkered scientist, tall with an air of geeky fascination about him, albeit also very rich) as we emerged goggle-protected into the effective but no less chaotic environment, as Arcadian's team quickly fanned out in routinely efficient search and protect mode, especially as the helicopters were now grounded, but never less than weapons ready. We were in a difficult environment, for sure, but on the plus side to this enveloping chaos was the fact that sensors from potential rivals or ground level sighting from curious locals would be further obscured.
None of the harsh weather affected Arcadian's hard-bitten and effective team, though. Nor the equally resourceful helmeted pilots behind us, now barely heard as they half powered down their craft and made potential plans to erect camouflage screens around them. The ferocious wind intruder continued battering against us but we had sight help from the clear laser targeting sensors of Arcadian's weaponry, his squad now in a full circular defensive pattern, as we made our way to the final position and our unusual anomaly, whatever it was. My basic sensor pad's once irritating beep was now an additional godsend over the environmental blasting they we were caught up in. No, not even the wrath of god could stop us in our tracks, I thought to myself as we ploughed through what seemed like the eye of the hurricane.
How wrong I was to be!
Half-way up a mountain dune, we weren't far from the incursion point given by our scanners when two additional blips suddenly registered on one of the devices being operated by the efficient Doctor Chiang. So far. nothing was viewable to us personally through the storm, which was now gradually starting to subside in intensity. Our protectors had their weapons sights activated, trying to pierce the storm whilst Arcadian sent a huge bald man named nicknamed 'Caleb', who wouldn't have looked out of a place as an Indiana Jones villain, and the striking Dayana, further up the dune to investigate. It was impossible that any of our rivals could have gotten there so quickly or yet pierced the jamming techniques of our spy satellite (not even our genuine enemy rivals in UNIT). And if it proved that these blips were civilians then there would be choice but to inflict 'collateral damage' if we were to succeed in the exploration/acquirement mission - a fact of which all of us in the group were being very well paid to turn a blind eye to such necessary violence. But this was all too much of a coincidence - the storm, the extra blips - of the kind Arcadian didn't believe in - pure or otherwise.
It was then that a woman's voice could be heard ahead through the sandstorm blitz, the voice of a young woman in fact, shouting back to an even more blurred companion who was slowly but surely navigating himself bizarrely so as to catch up with her. She seemed to be holding something as her figure was starting to emerge, whilst the other interloper seemed to have a distinctive question mark shaped umbrella which certainly managed to stand out as it swayed back and forth through the sand storm like it was a navigational tool.
Clearly English, or English-speaking, the young girl had a tomboy appearance about her that was no less clearly attractive, boasting a visage that reminded me of a very young Ingmar Bergman type, and equally clearly spirited as her materialisation was complete, wearing practical thick black leggings (no stockings in this weather, sadly), a short frilled-edge skirt, and heavy Doc Marten-like boots. Across the top of her frame she was wearing an unusual bomber jacket that was covered in a variety of badges of all shapes, sizes and colours which I later observed had been collected from all over the world, alongside symbols that looked familiar yet unfamiliar. What was unmistakeable, however, was the badge insignia of UNIT she adorned, though one that looked quite old. But she couldn't be from UNIT, of that I was certain.
Prior to our appearance, the girl was casually talking to the man she was calling 'Professor' with no care for her surroundings, bar a mild resentment and frustration to her predicament that she was clearly voicing. Her words, shouted in and out of the weather, were odd, too. "You promised me 'cities made of song', Professor, and where do you land us? In this dump. It makes Perivale look like Hollywood." It was clear that the playful banter directed at her colleague had tuned sour. The stranger, then seeing our scouts, then the rest of the team below them in the dune, initiated a near double take reaction, but not one which she'd been truly shocked by.
Despite the mature confidence inherent in her seemingly fearless body language - for sure full of courage and spunk that she would more than prove later, the girl was clearly too young to be a spy or an agent. Arcadian and the other soldiers were slightly taken aback by her, though ready to kill the intruders at my urging. I soon interceded against such violence when the comedic, bumbling-esque shape behind her raised its body into a more serous configuration and took its final form.
A small wiry man was holding the black umbrella bearing a strange and overly large red question marked handle. The interestingly named 'Professor', as she had called him, looked towards both the girl (whose name he had shouted out as 'Ace') and our team with a mixture of emotions on his mature and adaptable face. An air about him that was inquisitive but tinged with mild fear yet also outrage, especially when he saw the weapons aimed back and forth between him and the girl. The duo couldn't have been more out of place if they'd tried, this professor clearly as conspicuous as the girl, what with his outfit, that looked like something that wouldn't have been out of place as top of the bill of an old time vaudeville comedy act: an askew hat perched on his head, a strange question marks covered jumper over a plain shirt, and wearing a brown jacket that had once been tastefully tailored but was now scruffy beyond words, as well as a paisley patterned scarf that had been prior wrapped around his mouth against the sand. There was some mild coughing from him too as the sandstorm finally stopped. Strange that it was ceasing so with their arrival, almost as if this mysterious and unlikely figure had magically commanded it too. It was all very puzzling, but we ultimately controlled the game, and the pawns that potentially needed to be eliminated.
In this air of palpable tension, it was Arcadian who raised his gun up in a proper challenge, subtly demanding they reveal who they were and who'd sent them to sabotage our mission. We were just as anxious as Arcadian to find out more about the strangers. The girl boldly stepped in front of her smaller friend, that aura of strength about her kicked-in as she pulled out, from what was now to be seen as a rucksack, a small can of what looked aerosol deodorant, but was clearly not. Homemade nitro nine was what she declared it to be, ready to blow everyone to pieces in just three seconds thanks to her new and improved timing device. The professor was surveying the party below and around him with hawk-like eyes that soon showed mild disappointment that the situation had come to potential killing and bloodshed. His attitude was one of mercurial and strange indifference, yet still mixed with concern. "This is the most bizarre Mexican standoff I've seen in quite a while," the small but clearly enigmatic figure said as he began patting himself down of dusty residue, almost as if the force of armed soldiers around her were now nothing but flies to squat away.
Putting one confident arm on the girl's shoulder as she gripped the top of the aerosol can, he edged slightly down towards us, his umbrella guiding his descent down the dune, soon instructing us with depth-ful eyes to back down via a stare that bellied our beliefs- a man who wasn't quite what he seemed and clearly had some kind of mysterious power about him, the power to make us slightly unnerved. That two such figures could go against trained mercenaries... it was unbelievable but true, and the stalemate had to be broken. I had an instinct. I had Arcadian, who'd go on to show a grudging respect of sorts towards his strange foes, and his team lower their weapons, a situation that earned a returned respectful smile from this 'Professor'. Caleb and Dayana, however, continuing on with their advance patrol were not so thrilled, both of them deliberately and intimidatingly pushing their way through the strange pairing, like wounded animals baring their teeth in revenge at their aggressors.
The strange but more intelligent than he looked man was now on a level footing with us and soon introduced himself just as 'the Doctor' ("What kind of Doctor?" my unconvinced long-time colleague Doctor Chiang asked, her female intuition still trying to get a lock on him, of which he gave a thin smile and replied, "Call me a Doctor... with no borders!"). He then introduced the attractive girl properly, who was for the moment keeping her concerned distance yet looking uneasy, as too did the Doctor (albeit briefly), when I revealed my surname of Sundvik - a surprising reaction from them that, post encounter, is something to be looked into for the future, I have no doubts). It was evident that, for the most part, this Ace had surely sized up both myself and the scientific group as best she could and clearly had questions she was not yet ready to ask, either of us or this Doctor.
And as further introductions continued, the Doctor's interests and concerns peaked by Arcadian and his team, it soon turned out these two were no accidental tourists. Incredibly, they had also detected unusual energy readings from a travelling vehicle of some kind that the Doctor would not talk about further. Ace, now revealed as his long-time travelling companion, was also experienced in encountering unusual phenomenon (as I discovered later, overhearing a secret conversation between her and the Doctor) and potential alien encounters. Shortly after the introductions were complete, my team discussed the duo, and I recalled the UNIT badge - there had been rumours of an incredible scientific advisor that they'd often used as a freelance. Despite not matching the description of the man we had in our data base archives (a figure who often deliberately disguised himself as a white haired dandy or a scarf-wearing Bohemian type) could this be that 'Doctor'? If so, it was vital that they kept him and the girl alive after this unique mission had been successfully concluded, for what was potentially ahead. They'd have no choice but to return back to ATAG Central with them and indulge the secrets they knew about UNIT, as well as any other scientific discoveries they might deliberately be keeping to themselves. Arcadian too recognised such potential, especially for further profit, as he put his pistol back over his shoulders and introduced his team with the charismatic skills of a successful diplomat rather than a killer, though the sight of this Doctor looking up at their intimidating, mostly six-foot tall, well muscled frames. whilst simultaneously raising his respectful straw hat to each, all proved borderline farcical.
As Ace joined the Doctor at his side, her looking as if she'd always been at that spot judging by the familiarity they shared so casually, the early stages of our unusual collaboration had begun. We would all be friends for the time being as we together marched to our left back up the hill, of which the unusual geography of our intriguing destination was now all too noticeable with the passing of the storm. What we now saw was strangely terrifying in its physical, technological visage, as was the clear and uneasy aura of death about it. It was a large shape, the size of a small football field perhaps, whose structure was primarily embedded in the sand and of which what structure we saw was going in and out of sight to our eyes at ongoing intervals against the glistening yellow sun. A definite sense of interphase - one minute easy to see from our position then strangely transparent, near ghostly. Alongside the interphase there was an interference buzzing of some kind in and around it, of energy going back and forth along its elongated frame, like unceasing, frantically trapped St. Elmo's Fire electric bolts. But eerie though that was, the general landscape sight around the technological mystery was even more macabre. A variety of dead human and animal bodies laid waste in all directions. A trio of old goat farmers and a young child were the first to catch our eyes in the landscape, one that also revealed further older women and children heads down in the sand, bodies askew, all seemingly torn apart by an unknown force that certainly wasn't the sandstorm. There were other animal bodies, innocent creatures once eager to roam, to the sides and equally blown to shreds, covered in blood and body parts. Our vision lenses were soon witness to the animals' faces, which, like the human carnage alongside them, showed eyes that betrayed terror yet puzzlement with their clearly skilled and surely lightning-quick slaying. From first observations, Dr. Cartmel indicated that they had been torn apart from the inside out, some bodies with end trails of blood and organs smeared around them.What other bodies there were were clearly village people who'd been simply, clearly drawn out by something that they found inexplicable, something that had been dormant and now activated (perhaps to some kind of design?) to which their curiosity had ultimately led to their tragic demise.
Such a massacre as this one briefly repelled Arcadian and his team too, who never indulged in collateral damage unless absolutely necessary. And though they'd seen much barbarism in their time as warriors this was truly something they'd never forget, nor would Ace, who barely held back tears for the slain, the children whose lives had now been tragically curtailed, in particular. Quickly, the anger in her eyes at what had been done was also prevalent, as the Doctor watched her and mumbled some inaudible words from where I was positioned. Words, I assumed, that were of comfort or concern, or even both, I couldn't tell for sure, but words that would not fully ignite a clear need by Ace to bring justice to the perpetrators of this heinous act. Arcadian was held back from patrolling further by the Doctor, as whatever it was's outer defences were in some kind of disarray, perhaps even activating when they shouldn't have, so this unusual scientist would postulate, taking a device that looked as small as a calculator from his front coat pocket and adjusting it to emit a unique soundwave into the distance towards the in and out of phase structure. My team and I were now fully convinced that this 'anomaly' and its technology was not of this Earth, or even of our time.
After a short period of waiting, like he was depriving my team from opening their Christmas presents up early, the Doctor soon gave his clearance for us to go down to the site (we would play along with his decision-making for the time being), claiming that the energy discharges would not attack them, that there must have been some kind of overload within the structure. My team's sensor readings had picked up energy signals that seemed to have dissipated within the core area. Back in 1969, Neal Armstrong and his colleagues made a giant leap for mankind on the Moon, now I and my team were making one literally on Terra Firma in a no less striking and important way, yet we had no real comprehension of the alien dangers we'd soon face...
At ground level, the overall shaping of the structure was strangely more defined, looking more like a non-dormant elongated silver crab with fully outstretched pincers, its overall metal shell exterior gleaming in the sun, whilst the now less frequent electrical sparks still emanated here and there around its surface made it look alive with unnatural anger. The Doctor soon ascertained, through unknown knowledge, that the device or artifact was non-functioning, that it had somehow 'burnt itself out' and could be penetrated and inspected as we all headed towards it, soon submerged via a descending straight tunnel into the 'crab's' bowel, a large circular area that was to prove our ultimate destination, and which was mostly in darkness, the only life emanating inside registered via strange noises in the ether, alongside the further random flickering of a few small and likely specially selected electrical instruments and components. It was an incredible and eerie experience for myself and the team, just being inside that atmosphere of something beyond anything we'd experienced before, beyond even our wildest dreams, was nerve-tingling, and it was a feeling also shared by Arcadian and his squad, minus three who were now in triangular pattern surface patrol and security of the object outside, but nonetheless hearing what was going on from the regular comms devices that would not be switched off any time soon. To the Doctor and Ace though, there seemed no such thrill to their surroundings, as if they'd seen it all before, adding further cadence to their own unique mystery, as the Doctor began pulling out a strange collection of what looked like biotech mixed with fibre optic circuitry, whose rapid mixing and intermixing by his person soon indicated little and unique squeals, ones which briefly drew Ace into a protective stance towards her friend. The strange man surmised that what he was manipulating was part of the devices unique auto repair systems and began deciphering a newly activated power source with the help of what looked like a calculator. He further surmised that this device's 'Battlefield AI equivalent' had been prematurely activated and 'had a meltdown of sorts', likely by accident, into combat and defense mode. A scenario likely caused by the not too far ongoing conflicts going on in and out of the Iran/ Iraq borders. I recall that, most recently, there had been several tank battles, as well as numerous ancient Iraqi aircraft trying to escape, some of whom had inadvertently crashed into Iranian territory, or had dropped their archaic and unstable bomb payloads in the process. Arcadian recalled to the Doctor and a now intrigued and worried Ace ("Not another World War, Professor?" she asked, her question once again getting my attention). Events that certainly would have been enough to upset the device, and lead to the computer control system's nonchalant and further power overloading slaughter of those poor innocents that it had recognised as outside intruders.
As for the status of the device now? Well, once the auto repair systems had reached a significant point, its real objective on this planet, a purpose certainly buried for several thousand years at least, would hopefully be discovered and used to the company's best interests, whether the Doctor and his pretty friend liked it or not.
In that fascinating and exhilarating singular night that we stayed inside the underground chamber, my team and I continued our race against time examination of the device and the incredible fusion of technologies that the Doctor recognised as potentially being fused from at least three or four several styles of civilisation, though other aspects of it he could barely decipher. How he knew what he did, however, was to the bafflement of the team, though we all deep down knew what he was, whether we really wanted to acknowledge it or not: that despite his burring accent, Scotland was certainly not his place of birth. The girl, meanwhile, had indicated to one of Arcadian's teams that she'd come from the London borough of Streatham ("You got a problem with that?" she said defensively to the ever-grinning and sarcasm-laced Maxy), hardly the most spectacular of places to have been born in. Ace had the impressive ability to blend in well, though, wherever and whatever her upbringing, and she certainly wasn't shy in coming forward, especially getting to know the other members of the teams, especially Arcadian's. Indeed, she was soon sharing knife-wielding skills alongside the sensual Dayana. Quite a chalk and cheese pairing, perhaps with some kind of sexual tension/underpinning between them, though certainly both potential-pleasing to the eye.
Returned from the surface, Doctor Chiang, our biology expert, had performed an analysis of sorts on what was left of the savaged bodies, aided by her colleague Cartmel, which were to be eventually bagged and returned to the company once the structure had been fully explored and visually catalogued. There had been traces of the unusual electrical discharge we'd encountered about their insides too, as well as a strange kind of biological resin covering the bodies and ruptured body parts, almost like thin strands of glue that could be potential bio-technology. More work had to be determined, but so far what we had discovered had been both fascinating yet repulsive.
The night outside seemed so quiet in comparison to the structure beneath, as further systems came on subtly within the structure, myself and my now all too small team working frantically taking images, notes aplenty and sensor scans. It soon became apparent to the ever-concerned Doctor that the device was reactivating its back-up security systems and turning its attentions towards us rather quicker than he expected - the intruders deep within its systems area. Intruders to be destroyed, not by any forces within it but by by soon recruiting those that had been destroyed before, the structure using its unique energies to resurrect many of the dead Iranian bodies to whom it had previously slaughtered. Zombie-like cadavers worse than anything that could be seen in a horror film, that had clearly been quietly marching in the darkness across the sand before Arcadian's outside patrol had finally seen them descend into the device structure, whose overall sparking had stopped and which was now radiating a new aura of building power and technological capability, alongside a clear sound indicating that it was powering up for something which wouldn't be good. And now the communications had been seemingly jammed, of which the outside trio had no choice but to fire their automatic weapons so as to alert their colleagues down below. Noises that my party did indeed hear as the night terror began fully.
The Doctor was surmising that the 'creatures' reactivated by the device were deliberately trying to keep them inside whilst the device was likely going to destroy itself in some kind of temporal way ("Taking out the witnesses!" Ace shouted), whilst making sure it left as few fingerprints to its presence on Earth, and to humanity, as possible, once full power had been established. It's purpose had surely been revealed now as some kind of dormant weapon waiting to be activated, for some unknown plan by unknown players. As the unhindered grotesques descended into our level, despite weapons fire from the outside team, who were now themselves in trouble from such cadavers, ours was going to be a fight to the death in ascendant escape. Despite the Doctor's wrecking several instruments in an attempt to slow down or completely stop the device, his efforts were to nought as some kind of indicator symbols built-up to a pattern on a nearby panel. The climax of the device's new plan was clearly visible, as our non-Scottish friend's efforts had seemingly failed, and he angrily threw alien control pieces to the floor, but not before one distinctive conduit device I managed to procure from the floor and rapidly stuff into my inside coat pocket lining. "Time to leave!" Arcadian valiantly told us as we fought a frontal, arrow-like outwards attack against the incoming horde above and now intermixed with us.
What we were caught in was beyond any horror film, as I soon found out when Dr. Chiang was pulled out from Arcadian's defensive triangle and slaughtered by the creatures'- the look of fear and terror in her helpless, vulnerable eyes being something I'll never forget as she was torn to pieces with ease by those bestial wrecks, whilst Dr. Cartmel, despite valiant ongoing efforts at self-preservation, would have been decapitated if it hadn't been for the extra durable baseball bat that Ace revealed and wielded against his gruesome opponent, her dragging Cartmel by his jacket shoulders with one hand whilst her other kept waving the bat from side-to-side against the deadly creatures. Ordinary bullets continued failing to successfully fell the creatures, the 'death children' of which looked particularly gruesome and savage as their torn, wiry frames made the most of the enclosed area. The Doctor had shouted to Ace that she wouldn't be able to use her nitro nine explosives backpack, nor Arcadian's grenades inside, as they didn't know what it would do to the systems, potentially accelerating it into dispersion, so she, Arcadian, Dayana, Maxy and Caleb used knifes and the existing baseball bat to re-form the defensive arrow around myself, Doctors Cartmel and Aaronovitch (only just resisting a local woman's large bite radius), getting us back up to the surface finally, but not before the 'Cheshire Cat' Maxy had been shockingly slain - several child creatures having successfully caught his legs so as to bring him crashing down to the main tech level, along with his weapons, unable to escape as their brutal hands ripped away at his skin, their teeth covered in sprays of blood exploding from his ravaged chest and internal organs. The ever-sarcastic look on Maxy's face had now changed from sarcasm to helpless disbelief at his fate...
Outside, with the dawn arriving, and his patrol team now being slaughtered themselves by brutal goat animal cadavers that were acting like vicious dogs, Arcadian and what was left of his team, comprising the worse for wear Dayana and Caleb, had now almost gotten their protectees fully to the surface, but not before the Doctor, despite his own wiry nature in repelling the attacking creatures, was now pulled out of the defensive position and trapped by two of the smaller, younger children that had previously killed Maxy. As the final countdown loomed and the sound of the power build-up reached near ear-splitting noise intensity, the dispersion was beginning its full arc. Having only just escaped the device into the sand alongside Cartmel and the near mentally broken Aaronovitch, thrown literally by Dayana, I could only watch bruised and winded as Ace and Arcadian (the latter using a grenade at too close range, against advice, at the creatures) barely managed to distract the undead children from consuming the Doctor between their bloodied bodies, then, embracing themselves in an unexpected maneuver, amazingly threw themselves as a collective unity off the side of the device's ramp surface access point just seconds before the building/weapon's frame spectacularly and quickly began collapsing in on itself. The sound of reverse technology at work, fused with an almighty final cry of 'in-leashed' power, now saw the building/device completely disappear in an enormous final blast of light and power, never to be seen again as it dissipated into the very air and surroundings above and around us. It had been an incredible sight to behold, of which the Doctor and Ace, dirtied and dishevelled but now reunited with a hug, also watched with fascination, an event sadly not visually captured by either myself or the other survivors - having been too enraptured by the incredible sight whilst recovering from our near demises, and with the majority of our equipment now gone during the physical conflict. Even the undead corpses had disappeared along with the device/structure, sucked into its radius, to confound and frustrate us, and there was no sign of lingering background radiation or anything to indicate the device having ever been present there in the first place. It had disappeared from the surveillance of our orbiting satellite too, but thankfully imagery of the site had been captured and transmitted to ATAG head office.
As we all tried to adjust to our new scenario, Ace was in conversation with the Doctor about what happened, both of whom were now simultaneously cleaning each other of sand from their faces and clothes, a chat which I would record via a barely functioning listening device (now non functioning) that I had prior cleverly dropped into one of the Doctor's outside coat pockets. (The remnants of the conversation are enclosed in a separate audio file for your perusal). The Doctor would make mention of a force that he had seemingly encountered several times before - 'lifetimes ago' - but not indicating where and and when, and that it was called 'The Darkness', a mysterious race, or collection of races, out to control the universe for their own unknown goals. 'The Darkness', with its presence and technological abilities, would surely know that one of their 'Temporal Weapon Bases' had now been destroyed.
With talk like this it was imperative that the Doctor and Ace now be captured for company interrogation, of which Arcadian, if a little reluctantly, held his intimidating and clearly well-used machine pistol firmly on the duo, despite all that the pair had prior done to save the group. "Life just isn't fair, get used to it," I told the angry girl. Dayana and Caleb too were equally not quite happy with the scenario, but a job was a job regardless. Her back pack beyond reach, of which she'd been wounded with a kick to the shoulder before she could get to it, I was looking forward to finding out more about Ace and her Doctor - their knowledge, and their travels. Communications with our helicopter team via our mobile phones was not yet fully forthcoming, but the walk back wouldn't be far...
Sadly, the climax of our mission was to be fatefully interrupted. From above a helicopter suddenly appeared but its markings soon had us disappointed to see that it wasn't one of ours, though we were ready to fight. It was revealed as a formidable UNIT combat helicopter (with its recognisable blue/green hornet like shape), whose side weaponry was now opening up in retaliation to Arcadian and his team's blistering cover fire towards its airborne status. As the near exhausted Aaronovitch and Cartmel, like desperate schoolboys late for a bus, took surviving equipment bags and ran to where our helicopters were still likely grounded, I held a machine pistol and pushed the Doctor and Ace forward as best I could, but I'd soon prove to be no combat soldier, of which the girl, resourceful as ever, turned the situation around, throwing me over her shoulder in some kind of judo move, grabbing the pistol but not ultimately using it as she could have done (fire clearly in her eyes to kill, almost animalistic, yet holding back), as the Doctor saved me from death with calming words to the girl that I could just about hear over the gunfire and helicopter movement behind us. Words which left me both puzzled and shocked that sounded like "Don't, Ace. He's a pawn. A pawn that will eventually outlive his purpose..." Abandoning me, the duo then ran with all exertion possible (the little man barely keeping his hat on, his umbrella recovered from the sand), towards the now descending UNIT helicopter, as Arcadian's further cover fire simultaneously matched the arrival of our own helicopters (having picked up the enemy on their no longer minimal power scanners) and their newly returned firepower. Ground side, Ace caused a distraction against Arcadian's survivors, first with the machine pistol, as the unhappy to witness Doctor garnered pace ahead of her, then literally throwing, with great strength, the recovered ruck sack of activated nitro nine towards the first of our helicopters readying to pick us up. The play for time bid caused no death or damage with its too far detonation but it nonetheless wrought brief chaos: the Doctor and Ace almost reaching the UNIT helicopter as our own weapons-packed covering second helicopter, with its raven-esque look of intimidation, soon dispatching missiles that would successfully destroy it whilst still grounded, though we saw at least two of their soldiers escape the destruction of the copter's out-sized bubble frontage (one a tall, confident black woman who'd prior thrown a grenade at us - likely the known-to-ATAG Brigadier Winifred Bambera) before the near-deafening impact.
We were now out of the chaos and retreated up into the skies (our minds a blur of energy, stress, relief and ambition) with the arrived Huey and its fellow guardian protector, but knew that there would be a further pursuit by UNIT across land and sea if we didn't speed up our engines (their ever reliable Major Husak once more living up to his reputation as one of their best pursuers). So, it was goodbye to the mysterious Doctor and Ace, at least for the time being - an impressive duo who will surely be encountered again. Even Arcadian has been impressed with them, making a salute gesture from the skies, via a not yet closed helicopter door, to the dishevelled Doctor and a frustrated Ace as a sign of respect and acknowledgement to their talents.
This incredible incident as Dashqi will never be forgotten by either myself or the remains of my team as we returned to Central's Operations and Control after an extreme two days, amidst a period which also bizarrely saw-in the end of the Gulf War - a time which now seemed so underwhelming to us as the historical news arrived. And we had our own loss to deal with. The tragic slaying of Doctor Chiang and the lack of her body to be returned to her family will be explained as part of an in-preparation cover story, whilst her family will be well compensated for the rest of their lives, in her honour. We further dedicate our ongoing work to her memory, from which we will continue to make strides. Fortunately, what readings of the now-gone structure we were able to download and /or transmit remain within ATAG's protected databanks, alongside the aforementioned satellite filming. The alien technology, including the remnant I have from the site interior, will be deciphered and adapted, or reverse-engineered, no matter how long it takes, whether the process of doing so outlives us by generations.
I priority recommend the following actions following on from this encounter. Firstly, that we strengthen our currently limited spy network towards infiltrating key sections of the UNIT organisation. Secondly, that we do everything possible to acquire the Doctor and his companion for our own purposes - a task which Arcadian and his re-formed team will be at the head of. Thirdly, and of prime importance, our scientific research and development teams worldwide must work on creating potential upgraded sensor and tracking equipment, not just to find any other potential 'Temporal Weapons' that may have been seeded, cloaked, on this world, but also to locate the mysterious 'The Darkness' behind their creation, wherever it/they may be located in the outer realms beyond even what we call 'deep space'. We must aim to communicate with 'The Darkness', discover its place and modus operandi in the universe. Should we be successful, we must outline a plan of alliance.
The work continues, of which our company's future has never looked brighter or more diverse in its ongoing initiatives...
Report ends. Action strategies to be confirmed and activated.
This story is dedicated to the unique partnership brought to life onscreen for the Seventh Doctor's era between Sylvester McCoy and Sophie Aldred, portraying the Doctor and Ace, and to Script Editor Andrew Cartmel, and his talented and ambitious writers' team behind the scenes, for crafting such imaginative adventures for them to indulge.
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