World: Earth₄

Commander, we have a level two incursion outside Seattle

The man sitting in the comfortable chair shifted uncomfortably. "Let's get company six and eight on their way out there, and have squad A of third company support locals until relieved."

That will likely result in a complete loss of squad A third.

"Don't you think I know that, you fool machine! We just don't have enough Class I talent graduating from those damned sanitariums. Whoever thought that up should be sent to the next class three incursion."

 
Overall it takes me 30 minutes to make my original deck.

CHAPTER 8
Dr Whittaker was a lucky find, the first piece of real luck I can remember having since Stewie and I survived that shithole down South.

Barbra put down the phone and sat back in her chair. She let herself think about the idea that Lyra had lied. Plots of old science fiction movies made their way into Barbra's brain: Alien mind control, robot doppelgangers, and conspiracy.

Sometimes, it is what you do that matters. Sometimes, it is who you are. Usually it is just being in the proper place at the proper moment in time with the will to act.

CHAPTER 6
I had a few years of fun, after that. I was really lucky, we were lucky, never to do a tour in Ulster, but Stewie and I got to see Hong Kong a couple of times before it was given to the Chinese, and we had more than a few joint exercises with the Dutch Marines, and more than a few fights, and much, much more than a few beers.

This is the final chapter in 'The Sissy Farm' It ends with Michelle marrying her Mistress Simone and simply describes the various outcomes of the various lives of Michelle's assorted aquaintances.
The ending is a bit of a cop out really but I'm getting stale with this story.
Hopefully there'll be some more coming along shortly.

Love to you all and a big thanks to those who commented.

OXOXOX.

Beverly.

CHAPTER 5
We went home, and I wasn’t the only one crying in his sleep.

Sometimes, it is what you do that matters. Sometimes, it is who you are. Usually it is just being in the proper place at the proper moment in time with the will to act.

CHAPTER 4
I knew it was going to be a long walk as soon as I heard about the Conveyor. We had helicopters, but nowhere near enough to move all of us, and we were the poor sods sent out on Shanks’s.

CHAPTER 3
It isn’t like that at all, you know. I wasn’t lusting after Stewie, or indeed any man. I like women for that particular area of my life, though I must admit I hadn’t actually spent any time in indulging that taste.

Roswell, New Mexico, July 1947: Did a flying saucer crash there? Were aliens, live and dead, found? Would you want your son to marry an alien? What was the government covering up? I know that I swore off conspiracy theories, but as the world’s most infamous TG investigative reporter I have a duty to publish the Truth about Roswell (which I discovered by accident). Why? Because my findings have Universal (or Cosmetic) implications for our understanding of gender.

UNIFORMS.

Not even first light. The chop was making my teeth rattle as the blunt bow slammed into each wave the LCU met, and a couple of the lads were already being sick. The bergen weighed far too much, but I’d managed to snaffle a Mao suit and, much to my surprise, managed to squeeze it in. We were in the second wave, and as we had heard nothing from the shore so far it looked as if we were going to be unopposed. Thank fuck my new boots had come. Too many of the lads were still in ammo boots, but I had done more than enough on Dartmoor in mine to know exactly how bad they were.

Out of the Ashes, Part 6

Out of the Ashes by Misty Meenor A Comic RetCon Universe Story The Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian characters are the property of DC Comics. Heatstroke nodded in satisfaction as he stepped back and extinguished the bright flame that had covered his form. A thin, finger-width scorched black line outlined the edges of the huge vault door on three sides, pitted and scarred by rivulets of melted steel. Part of the bottom edge still glowed cherry-red, slowly dimming as it cooled. The room was filled with an acrid smoke, uncomfortably warm. Fifteen minutes, right on schedule. His associate spoke. "Phase two complete. Beginning phase three. Five minutes."

Previously:
I just hope everything goes well tomorrow. How will people react to the new me? Will they accept me?
  

Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 55

The final part of my tale.