-James A. Garfield
Casterly Rock, Lions Field, 9:15 am, July 26th, 298 After Aegon's Conquest
Lord Tywin, Ser Kevan, and Lord Tyran came escorted by a handful of Lannister red-cloak guards, ready for a fight. The young Maester Creylen followed not too far behind. The lone Lannister Guard stiffened at the sight of the High Lord, and the bard just stood there, Lute in hand. Understandably, due to its infamy, The Rains of Castamere has reached even as far as Braavos.
“So… Where is this strange flying… “Chandelier,” you came running to us about, which made you leave your post.” Lord Tywin questioned, with steel in each word.
“My lord, there. Right behind the Braavosi,” The guard who left earlier said, pointing to the bard. Realizing who they were talking about. The bard moved to the left just enough for them to see it.
With a low gasp, “Gods be good! What is it?” Lord Tyran said, walking towards it before being stopped by another guard for his safety.
“My Lord,” giving a bow of his head, “It says there is a message for you underneath the lid of the box on top. “It,” The guard close to the bard says, pointing to what he referred to as “It.”
Lord Tywin then gestures for the guards to spread their formation around “it.” Walking towards “it,” He sees what the guard is speaking of. “Message for Lord Tywin” was written underneath the box lid. Moving closer, he saw what looked like an “eye” move, watching his every step. Looking inside the box, there was a piece of paper. White a snow.
Reaching and picking up the paper, he was surprised by its quality, it feels smooth and satisfying to touch, just like a wet stone. Examining it further reveals that it's a type of container holding what can only be the message. The opening is closed by a blue wax seal. Stamped on it is a flag, with stars in the top left corner and stripes along the rest. This must be the flag of the United States of America.
The wax seal was broken with a crack, letting Lord Tywin retrieve the message. Opening the folded papers to their original dimensions, he read. Ser Kevan and Lord Tyran moved to his vicinity. “My Lord, what does it say?” Ser Kevan questioned his brother, still reading the message.
Finishing the message, Lord Tywin handed it to his brother with a hard expression, “Read it aloud, Kevan.”
Doing as he was commanded, Cough Cough, Ser Kevan cleared his throat and read aloud for both him and Lord Tyran.
“To Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, Warden of the West
My name is Kelly O’Conner, the Ambassador for the United States of America. I first want to express my utmost apologies for our ships coming off as an “aggressive” action. We placed them this close to your port for the protection of the delegation, I am sure you can understand our reasoning. On behalf of our country, we wish to extend our hands of friendship on good terms, but you seem to, as your house may put it, “roar” at the idea of it. But for now, we will look past it.
As you can see in front of you, our people have the ability to transport things from one place to another via air. But make no mistake, this drone is merely a small fragment of what we could do, a small dip of water in the middle of the ocean. With this in mind, here is what we propose. We will come with two of what we call “Helicopters” to this field and pick you up, along with the entourage of your choosing. And of course to carry luggage, trading examples, and whatnot.
If all goes well, the helicopters will arrive a little before noon to pick up your party and bring you to us. And then we can start the talks immediately. Please put your written reply back in the box.
One more thing. The last time a country chose war instead of peace. Well, that country no longer exists. After all, people at Lannisport had sung to us that you’re not a stranger to something like that.
From Kelly O’Conner, Ambassador of the United States of America”
The Lions Field fell silent as the grave, all except for the soft wind and footsteps of Lord Tywin on the grass. He was pacing back and forth, occasionally looking at the “Drone”. All the while, the front piece of it moves with him, watching. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“T-this is an outrage! They dare threaten us?” Lord Tyran said angrily, his earlier cravenous behavior faded and was replaced by the feeling of indignation now that the Lannister pride was on the line.
“Lord Tywin, I care not how fancy their ships are like. I say we call the banners and serve this Ambassador and her men with fire and steel at once. Even if we died, then we would at least die with our honor intact.” Tyran’s last sentiment was actually shared by Tywin when he wrote the reply earlier. If a lion has to die, then he would have to face his doom with a roar of defiance.
After all, Tywin had sworn to not let the Lannisters become a laughingstock ever again. That means if the downfall of his family is inevitable, then they would go out in such gallant defiance that the enemy wouldn’t dare to spit and laugh at their corpse.
“Then what would stop them from razing the Westerlands to the ground? What would that make to our dignity as the Great House of the Westerlands if we just leave our subjects to die?” And Kevan has just voiced the same thought that Tywin had that made him reconsider that intention.
“No, what we need to do is call in our fleet. I know that it has seen better days since the Greyjoy raids, but I believe that then we can still try to intimidate them by numbers. That way we can have an equal footing in negotiations.” Ser Kevan suggested looking at his brother.
“We will do nothing of the sort,” Lord Tywin tells them, looking back at the glass piece on the Drone. Studying it. “If my hunch is correct, it wouldn’t matter what we do, they would be able to see it through anyway. Besides, they're listening to us right now. Aren't you, Lady O’Conner?”
“W-what are you talking about,Tywin?” Kevan asked before the piece of glass nodded, answering the Lord Paramount and his brother. Proving the former’s suspicion and the latter’s shock.
“No way…” Tyran voiced the same shock as Kevan.
Fair play, my lady. Fair play indeed. Guess I'm underestimating you. Lord Tywin thinks to himself. Almost smirking while looking at the Drone. Turning away from the drone and walking towards his brother and cousin.
“Maester Creylen, get me more parchment, ink and quill, a desk with a chair, and seal wax. Get as many guards as you need to help you and bring it all here.” He commands the young Maester. Bowing, he leaves with a few guards.
“My Lord? What do you plan to do?” Ser Kevan says, surprised at the level of calmness his brother is at. If this had been some bannerman, or a Lord from a different part of The Seven Kingdoms, he would be quite insulted and most likely has ordered him to call the banners. But this action he currently undertook was different, it was calculative, and patient. Just who are these people to be able to make even Tywin to tread carefully like that? .
As if Tywin can read his brother’s mind, he responds to Kevan.
“Yes Kevan, I am also wondering what these newcomers really are. What I plan to do is buy us some time and gather as much information about this “United States of America” and see their military capabilities. It was obvious that they cannot be underestimated. Judging by this… “drone” and saying that they have bigger ones raises a question. Why show such power? And Why show it now?”
20 Minutes pass
Kelly, Captain Richard, Maester Lorwell, and Lord Commander Torren watch the monitor screen showing live footage from the drone.
“How are we seeing this again? Radyo Frigwiney? Is that how you called it?” The Lord Commander asked. Still confused by the strange words spoken to him.
“It's pronounced “Radio Frequency” and yes you are correct. There's something called an antenna hooked up to the drone that then sends footage Live from its camera down here to us.” The drone operator explains. “And that's how we control them as well. These control sticks are in direct contact with the drone. Allow me to maneuver it.” He gestures to the strange sticks and knobs in front of him.
“Very strange”, the Lord Commander says, as he scratches his head. Maester Lorwell, on the other hand, has another implication in his mind.
The Riverlander Maester is wondering, with this American communication marvel, would the raven system that the Maesters depended on for more than millennia finally be rendered irrelevant? And as a Maester himself, it was certainly something that Lorwell needed to think about.
“Oh, it looks like they're moving again.” The operator says, intently watching the monitor. Making small adjustments to the “Camera” to capture the scene in front of them.
On the monitor, it shows about 15 men, including the “Big Three” of Westerlands, Lord Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock, and his brother Ser Kevan Lannister. And the Lord Commander's Father, Lord Tyran Lannister of Lannisport, who by the looks of him seems like the type of guy you would find at an outdoor car show. Mid-fifties, on the heavy side, a small mustache.
If you were to replace his fancy clothes with white New Balance Shoes, long white socks, cargo shorts, a shirt that has a picture of Dale Earnhardt, wearing a black hat imprinted with the number “3”, he would look like your stereotypical Midwestern dad.
On-screen now was the Maester Creylen ushering in the red cloaked guards, carrying a table with chairs. And a few small things that couldn’t be seen on screen. But presumably writing tools.
As the Westerosi were watching the screen, Kelly and Captain Richard were to the side, keeping composure. A calm face, if you will, once in a while looking at each other, then back at the screen, as the men on the other side set up this table.
They might look calm on the outside by necessity of decency. But their thoughts couldn't be more different.
“Holy shit! He looks exactly like Charles fucking Dance! Ha Ha!! I can't believe it. Oh, man, this is amazing!” Kelly was practically screaming to herself. The fact that, besides the few obvious differences, being that he was bald with big, blond Lannister-like sideburns. He looks the same as the English actor.
Even Ser Kevan looked like his show actor. She couldn’t think of his name because of the excitement. “This could mean that the others look just like the show actors. Ned Stark, Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Margaery and Olenna Tyrell, Daenerys Targaryen. Every single one of them!”
She became a bit concerned about that thought. “If they all look like the actors, then so will Tyrion, Khal Drogo, and Oberyn Martell, and we all know how much of a celebrity their actors are.” This was something she would have to think about later on. But it gives great concern on how to handle them. If at all.
“Captain. Ma’am. Looks like Lord Tywin is writing his reply now.” The drone operator says to get their attention.
They look at the monitor as Lord Tywin takes his seat and begins to write. Quill in hand, moving from ink pot to parchment, then back again. Doing this for not even five minutes. When finished, he lets the parchment dry, folds, and stamps with his wax seal.
“Huh. I thought he would have written more?” Captain Richard chimed in. Either he was a quick writer or he had very little to say. The latter is what concerned Kelly. He was not a man of few words, but he spoke with meaning, with purpose. His words were like the heavy slash of a sword.
But hers? Hers had to be like shots from a rifle. Precise but with maximum effect.
The group watched as Lord Tywin handed the parchment letter to a guard and instructed him to put it back in the box.
Once the message was put back, the drone operator clicked a button to close the lid. Startling the guard just enough for him to take 5 steps back.
“Alright. Take off in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” At one, the operator maneuvered the controls, starting the drone and lifting it on its way back to them. The Lions Field became smaller and smaller. Making the group of men look like dolls you would see across the room.
“The drone must be coming back.” A Marine said, standing several feet away from the canopy, accompanied by City Watchmen.
“So tell me.” A Watchman asked, trying to strike up a conversation. “Why did you join the…” He thought for a moment, “What did you call it again? “The something-Corps?” He said with a hint of confusion.
“The Marine Corps? Well… It depends on who you ask. For me, I joined for free college. The Marine Corps wasn't my first choice. Originally I was going to join the Army, but the recruiter wasn't there. I think he was on his lunch break. And it just so happened that the Marine recruiter was there.” The Marine explained as simply as possible. As he did, two other watchmen wandered over to listen. Same with the other Marine.
“We chatted for a while, and the next thing I knew I was on the bus from the airport heading to Parris Island, South Carolina. Ha Ha Ha Ha.” The Marine said cheerfully.
“I’m not really sure what you just talked about, but that’s okay.” The watchman replies, equally cheerful.
“And what about you?” The Marine asked the Watchmen. “Why join the City Watch?”
“Well, what can I say, a hot meal every day and a roof over me head is something we can’t refuse.” He said, scratching his 5 o’clock shadow.
“I see. We’ve had guys from all across our country join for reasons like that. From bad home life, to keeping themselves from selling drugs on a corner. You could ask any of us, and it will be a mixed answer” The Marine began to list them off his fingers.
“Patriotism, good pay, an interesting career, free education, no place else to go, or simply a hunger for thrill and adventure. You name it. And that's just what I know of, it all depends on each individual.”
The watchmen nod their heads in trying to understand, “How much do you get paid? If I may ask.” Another said. He was missing a few teeth.
Looking over to his fellow Marine for some sort of approval. Shrugging, he decided to tell them. “In our currency? About $1,940 each month.”
Their faces showed visible shock, “Wow, I have no idea what those numbers mean, but that sounds a lot! We are merely paid 9 Silver Stag every other fortnight.” He says, showing a very toothy mouth.
“May we sign up for your military?” Another asked, face full of brown beard. His yellow teeth sticking out.
“Well, if you want to swear an oath of fealty to our country, then be my guest.” One of the Marines japed, which earns the laugh of the Watchmen and the other Marines.
“But, there are some requirements that you must meet. Plus, I think there's a process for foreigners to even be considered to join up.” A female Marine said, trying not to douse out their hopes.
“Meh, strong lads like us are always needed. I believe we could meet those requirements. I mean, how hard could that be if they even let you join in?” The toothy one said, looking at her with a strange, almost mocking grin.
“W-what the…? Are you talking about me?” Asked the female Marine in incredulity.
“Yes. I can always spot a good-looking wench from leagues away, even if they are dressed like a man.” He looked her up and down like a piece of meat. He did have a thing for fiery Dornish women after a few interactions with their traders and whores who routinely visited the city, and she was close enough to look like one, with a matching attitude to boot.
“Wait wait wait, hold on your horses, she’s really a woman?” Asked the watchmen with a brown beard to the toothy one. “I thought she’s just a young man with a high voice. Holy hells, and I think that the Dorne is already queer enough.” He then turned his attention to the female Marine.
“So… are both men and women allowed to join your Corps equally? Or is it simply some sort of “special treatment” for high lords to “let” their excess daughter to go fight instead of being betrothed for marriage?” The bearded watchmen asked her.
Taken by surprise at what feels like a degrading comment, the Marine decides to go in on this smelling pile of walking shit. “Firstly, any United States citizen is allowed to serve their country regardless of what is in their crotch. No one gets special treatment, especially in The Corps.” She could feel her face getting red by the minute.
“I joined not because I was just some excess waste to my familia got it” Her Spanish was starting to come out in bits and pieces, “No, I joined with my own free will to honor my abuelo for his sacrifice at Iwo Jima over 80 years ago, you Pendejo!”
Both the toothy man and bearded man's face showed confusion to her strange confrontational words, the former likes Dornish women’s temperamental attitudes… but not to this extent.
To make her opinion crystal clear, she then went up to the man's face, “Besides, I don't think you would even qualify for latrine duty.”
Now it was the watchmen’s turn to be red in the face, “What makes you so special? Ay?”
She takes a step back to get away from smelling the man's rancid breath. “Simple, the two of the qualifications are being able to read and write. Which I don’t think you all could.”
Now this was another shock to the Watchmen, having the ability to read and write was only reserved for the Maesters or Lords and Ladies of prominent families. If what she is saying is true, that she is not of high birth and that means their own smallfolks are somehow able to get access to those expensive books that are so zealously guarded by the Maesters and lords.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The toothy one then looked at the other Marine, “H-how many of you can read and write?” His voice was almost trembling.
“Most of us can actually, everyone is taught at the age of 5 to 6, and they also have access to Public Schooling. And if we can pay for it, Private School. I have a niece that learned to read at 4, and write at 6 in Private School.” the Marine said bluntly.
This left the three Watchmen stunned, their mouths gaped and eyes wide. “Wow, these Americans are crazy.” the bearded watchmen exclaimed as he and others rendered almost speechless.
With this new knowledge in hand, the watchmen wanted to ask more and more questions, surrounding the two Marines. Their eagerness gets other watchmen's curiosity to grow. Both of them felt overwhelmed with the barrage of questions being asked.
Overhearing the commotion, Captain Richard walks over to see this developing situation of Marines and City Watchmen in conversation. If you could call it conversations, for the Marines, it looked more like they were the ones being interrogated by the Watchmen. Not with normal methods, but with their smell. Some of them smell like they sleep in stables, and considering the kind of place Westeros is, it’s very likely the possibility.
“Showers. These guys really need showers.” He noted to himself.
“Everything alright here, you guys?” He questioned them before someone fell into the water. One of the Marines looked with relief with a face that was just screaming. “HELP!”
“They were just asking about being in the Corps. Sir.” The other said with a salute. “With great enthusiasm.” The female Marine said.
bbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzz
He wanted to question them a bit more, but the drone was over their heads. “Alright, move out of its way!” He ordered moving his arms to clear the area.
The two Marines and the three Watchmen rush out of its way. Clearing the landing area. Kelly, Maester Lorwell, and Lord Commander Torren step from underneath the canopy to watch the drone slowly land in its original spot.
Setting down on the hastily painted “H” landing zone on the stone pier. The wind from the blades threw dust all around. The noise of its motors going silent as the drone operator flicks the final switch, killing power to them.
With another push of a button, the fitted box on the drone opens. Revealing the reply message from Lord Tywin Lannister. The suspense hung in the air like incense in a small room. There was no cheer of excitement or scream of fear from the Market nearby. They just watched.
Since Captain Richard was the closest, he went over to the drone and took out the neatly rolled message. Green seal wax, with a pressed lion of House Lannister on the fold. The parchment felt nice like the skin of a drum in the Captain’s hand.
“Well?” Kelly said just a few feet away. She was leaning on her left hip, arms crossed.
“Well, what?” Captain Richard was now confused about what she was asking.
“Well, aren't you going to crack it open and read it? Or do you want me to do it?” She gestures to herself.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” He says, snapping the seal wax and unraveling the message. He has to bend it a few times to keep it from wanting to roll up again.
Looking down at the written parchment, he begins to read.
“To the honored envoys of the United States of America
Lady Kelly, of House O’Conner, I presume? A lion does not simply roar at anyone. Perhaps we failed to understand that it is your custom to surround a city with ships to start “diplomatic talks”. Therefore to respect it, we will oblige with your request to meet.
Twenty-five in total will be coming with us. We will be sending instructions to Castle Golden Keep to prepare the Castle for our stay. We will be ready for your arrival midday.
-Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, Warden of the West”
“Huh. I thought there would be more.” Captain Richard said, looking over at Kelly as she walked over to read the message to herself.
“Well, this does tell us two things,” she said to him while still reading the message. “He knows when to take a hint, but he doesn't know what “Gunboat Diplomacy” is either.”
“Smart move with the ships. Best we get on the horn with the other captains and update them about the situation.”
“Agreed”
Both Captain Richard and Kelly make their way back to the canopy, where a small command hub has been set up. Noticing their movement, the Maester and Lord Commander follow out of curiosity.
“Captain? Lady Kelly? Is everything alright?” Maester Lorwell questions as they join them under the canopy.
“Of course Maester. We are just getting in touch with the Carrier Strike Group. Would you both care to join us?” Kelly offers with a warm smile.
Looking from Lord Commander Torren back to her, “We would be honored” he says with a bow.
A Navy comm operator was sitting in front of two monitors with a big screen behind it. “Get us in touch with the strike group please,” Kelly tells the operator, with a nod and a few clicks of the keyboard, the big screen showed 6 squares with the names of each ship in the bottom left.
9:50 am
From each Navy vessel, including the Submarine, the XOs inform their Captains of the incoming video call from the envoys. Passing command over to them, the Captains make their way to another room to join the video call.
One by one, the Captains joined the call to a surprising sight. Not two, but 4 people were in front of their screen coming from the first contact ship. The two unrecognizable faces, clearly being native Westerosi, judging by their clothes at least.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Before Captain Jesse Frank broke the ice, “Captain, Ambassador Kelly,” he said with a nod to each, “are these two the ones that we were updated about? Maester Lorwell and Lord Commander Torren Lannister?”
“Yes, Sir, they are indeed.” She then turns toward the Westerosi, “Gentlemen, are the other captains of the Carrier Strike Group.” Kelly gestures to the screen of Captains, all smiles.
She gave them a short introduction of each Captain to move things along quickly, since they only have two hours and ten minutes until they need to transport Lord Tywin and his group down to them.
She gestures to the man in robes, “Allow me to introduce Maester Lorwell of the Castle Golden Keep”, then to the man in gold and red armour, “...and Lord Commander Torren Lannister of Lannisport.”
It took the two Westerosi a moment to give their greetings, they were still marveling at what was in front of them. 6 heads on a piece of glass, of course with the drone image it was strange. But this was so clear to look at, almost as if the men and women in front of them were right there.
Now there isn't any doubt, these people will finally put ravens to extinction, and as a Maester, I don’t know how to feel about that prospect. Lorwell can only ponder for a brief moment before realizing that he’s now in their audience.
Cough Cough “Forgive me Lords and…Ladies, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The old Maester says, giving a bow that was quite deeper than normal. As he raised himself he gave the Lord Commander a nudge for him to do the same.
“Uh… Y-yes! Forgive me as well. It is my honor as the Lord Commander of Lannisport City Watch to be in the presence of such fine captains.” startled, he gives a bow of his head.
“It is our pleasure as well, Lord Commander Torren and Maester Lorwell. We hope that we haven't caused any trouble with our presence here. I am sure that Ambassador Kelly has explained that enough to you.” A screen to the bottom right, names Maria Neumann, Captain of USS San Antonio.
“O-on the contrary, my Lady, the city has been rejuvenated with life. Haven't seen much activity since the Tourney after the Greyjoy’s Rebellion was squandered many years ago.” The Maester says cheerfully, hoping to please these glass strangers.
Once introductions were out of the way, the Ambassador, Captain, and the other Captains began to say such strange and fascinating words to each other. At least to Maester Lorwell.
Words as: Contingency, Air Support, Prior-Authorization, F.O.B Area, POTUS
So many new vocabularies that wrapped around his head in a futile attempt to understand it.
“I don’t think that even an army of Maesters can decipher these words. As if we can’t be more strangers to their ways of life.” The Maester thought to himself, moving his eyes to Lord Commander Torren to see his reaction to such words. He's showing the same clueless face he has to the contraption in front of him.
“We have the Super Stallions available for high priority personnel, and an Osprey for luggage they bring with them. We can use two of them if needed, for the supporting aircraft, the best would be the Viper attack helicopter. Two or three would suffice. We can have them ready for take off in an hour and a half.” Cap. Jason Mendez of the USS Makin Island informs them.
“Will those suffice, Kelly?” Captain James Anderson, the captain of the USS Abraham Lincoln and the commander of the first contact Carrier Strike Group, asks her. Everyone looks to her for an answer, even the two Westeros Natives look out of curiosity.
She wanted to tell them that all of that is overkill, but with the first message from Lord Tywin being seen as a threat. Which is rightfully should be taken as one. Captain James must have gotten a reply from Washington, which explains the overkill ness of the aircraft. “Yes, Captain, they will suffice.” She decided to tell them.
“Good. Everyone else is good to return to their stations. Captain Mendez, you get those birds ready for take off at 1130 Hours. And Kelly, I need a private word with you once everyone else signs off.” Captain James orders
“Yes Sir”
The other Captains make their leave from the video call. Captain Richard looks to the Westerosi, “Alright, let's give the Ambassador and Captain some privacy.” He says, ushering them away.
“Lady Kelly” Maester Lorwell says with a bow and makes his leave.
“My Lady” Lord Commander Torren politely says, turning with little clicks and clacks of his armor.
“He still doesn't get it. Does he?” Kelly asks Captain Richard, eyebrow raised.
“Nope. Have a good chat.” The Captain says with a smile and walks away.
“Ma’am, you’re good to go.” The Navy Comm Operator turns to her, holding a headset up.
“Thank You, Might be best if you step away as well,” she informs the Operator. The Operator nods, standing from her seat and leaving the headphones in her hand.
Kelly sits and gets comfortable for this talk. With the headset on and snug, she's ready.
“Alright Captain, everything alright?” She looks to the main on the smaller monitor, his face as a stern, serious look to it now. His few wrinkles tighten, for forty-five he looks great.
“The President is pissed, but not surprised at the message. “In character” I believe he said. There are talks about the next move if this meeting breaks down. Best bet if that happens will be to make our way to Oldtown in The Reach and try our hand with the Hightowers and Tyrells. But that is a last resort.”
“There have been some developments while we were away.”
“What kind of developments, Sir?”
“The storage of raw material and metal is not what was originally counted. Turns out, someone somewhere down the ordering line fucked up and gave us less than what we paid for. Mainly Bauxite, Steel, Copper, Aluminum, Nickel, Oil, and a few hundred other things that I don’t have time to name off. On the home front, nearly every factory, mine, refinery has been ordered to double production of what we need. But some of these materials aren’t found here. At least not yet, anyway. There's more talk about reopening old facilities as well.”
“What about the new Territories? Canada and Mexico?”
“Well, we do know that most if not all we need are there. But the problem is, we need three times the machinery we currently have now. And we need the materials I said before to make those machines. With what we have in storage across the country is about half of what we need. And that's not counting all that needs to be allocated for naval repairs and redeployment of the mothball fleet. It’s going to be cut in half with that in mind.”
“That is why we need these discussions to work. We are being backed into a corner. The Space Force and NASA, along with the ISS crew, have been ordered to search the entire continent from above for possible sites of raw materials, but that won't help much without local knowledge. Do you understand what you're being asked? Failure is not an option.”
Kelly ponders for a moment at the severity of the situation the country is in. And her responsibility here and now. “Yes, Sir, I believe I do.”
“Good. Another thing. The President, Vice-President, and the Joint Chiefs will be listening in on the talks as well from Washington. The President wanted me to let you know, as well as the Captains.”
Kelly chuckles, “Ha, Of course he did. Alright, thank you. We will be getting set up here.”
“Good to hear.” Captain James signs out, leaving only the Navy badge on the screen. Kelly's reflection mirrors though, looking at her. She takes the headphones, tosses them on the table and rubs her eyes.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
2 Hours to pick-up, 1000 Hours, November 3rd, 2025
With the stakes just turned up to fifteen, everything has to be perfect. No, it must be perfect. From the furniture, all the way to the atmosphere, it must be perfect. With this in mind, Kelly asks for the rest of the two Marine squads on-board the USS Savannah to help with the preparations.
“That's our job, Ma’am.” The young Staff Sergeant said with a smile. With a quick turn and head held high. His voice aged five years, “Alright Devil Dogs, you heard the lady, we have marching orders. So get your lazy asses moving now, Move move!” Kelly watched as these Marines moved like a frenzy of bees.
1 Hour and 30 Minutes to pick-up, 1030 Hours, November 3rd, 2025
The men and women of the Marine Corps worked like their lives depended on it. Including constructing a prefabricated, ornate canopy that was bigger than the original used for the communications and drone control. With the help of Lord Commander Torren Lannister, he acquired four House Lannister banners to be hung from each side of the canopy for all to see.
The United States flag, “Old Glory” is to be hung as well alongside the Lannister Banner. Side by side, symbolizing the hopes of friendship. Special drinkware, silverware, and dinnerware were originally requested by the Lord Commander and Maester Lorwell to be brought from Castle Golden Keep. Mainly to show the high status of the family.
But, Kelly insisted that they all used “wares” from the United States. “So they will not have to bring dirty dishes back all the way to the castle”, Kelly claimed, when asked for their reasoning. But every American in the port knows that it was to show off the materials of said “wares”.
Crystal wine cups rimmed with red, Ornate Sterling Silverware with white ornate lines down the shafts, Porcelain dinnerware with blue rimmed metal and much more is to be used. Only the best for a family as prestigious as House Lannister of Casterly Rock.
A specially ordered ten foot long, oval dining table was chosen by the President himself for this important event. With advice from a certain Senator from Vermont, Maple Wood was chosen for the construction of the dining table. Stained Asbury Brown. The table was finished a day before they left.
1 Hour to pick-up, 1100 Hours, November 3rd, 2025
For seating arrangements, it would be as follows: The United States delegation on the West side of the table, backs facing The Sunset Sea, and the Lord Paramount delegation on the East side, back facing the rest of the continent.
Each side would be sitting on fine handmade wooden chairs, soft cushions, smooth arm rests. During the Construction of the bunkers for The Storm, a forgotten storage room was found beneath the US Capitol Building that was built all the way from the 1940s in relatively perfect condition. Further investigations concluded that these chairs were used during the Yalta Conference. Also included with these chairs were documents about how they were flown back from Crimea to the US as goodwill gifts from the Soviet Union not long before the two countries’ relations deteriorated due to the Cold War.
In the catering department, for someone like Tywin Lannister, only the best of the best that the US has to offer was decided. With that in mind, the “Palette” of a High Lord was decided, the meal would consist of cuisines of various cultures that make up the American people and using ingredients that could be found from throughout the North American continent. With the mix of items that could be deemed as “Exotic” of course.
30 Minutes pick-up, 1130 Hours, November 3rd, 2025
Further discussion with Lord Commander Torren and Maester Lorwell, with a short lesson on helicopters. Determined that Lord Tywin's party can land right on the pier. A large red “H” has been painted around 40 yards away from the meeting area. The second helicopter behind will then land once the party has exited the first. Luckily, the pier for this busy port city was designed for large numbers of ships to be docked all at once, which incentivized its width.
20 Minutes pick-up, 1140 Hours, November 3rd, 2025, USS Makin Island
The flight deck was a flurry of activity. The flight deck crew of the USS Makin Island running from helicopter to helicopter for final checks. With their colors moving past one another like cars on a highway. Yellow, Green, Red, Purple, Blue, Brown, and White. Every man and woman's years of training are put to the test.
After much deliberation between the first contact envoy and the convoy captains, the following aircraft have been decided: 1 CH-53E Super Stallion to transport Lord Tywin Lannister’s main party and 1 MV-22 Osprey for servants, cargo, etc, plus an additional one on standby in case there's more. As for protection, and intimidation value, 3 AH-1Z Viper Attack Helicopters, were chosen for their speed, armament, and intimidating design. With the final pre-flight check complete, the extraction team is ready to depart.
Titan-1 (Super Stallion) : “Warrior Control, Titan-1. Ready for launch. Confirming flight plan: takeoff from Makin Island to Lions Field For extraction. Vipers in formation. Over.”
Carrier Air Traffic Control (Warrior Control) : “Titan-1, Warrior Control. You are cleared for launch. Vipers form up on Titan-1. We have just received further instructions to do a fly over of the USS Savannah Takeoff and fly in sequence. Over.”
Viper-3 (Lead attack helicopter) : “Copy, Warrior Control. Vipers are ready to roll. We’ll stay tight to Titan-1 and Harpy-1 for the journey out. Over.
Harpy-1 (Osprey Secondary transport for cargo/staff) : “Warrior Control, Harpy-1. Engines hot and ready for take off. Over”
Carrier Air Traffic Control (Warrior Control) : “Understood Harpy-1. Titan-1, Harpy-1, Viper-3. You're cleared for takeoff. Out.
With the last signal of go ahead, the five helicopters switch to flight mode. Propellers blowing wind around the flight deck. Moving faster and faster, seemingly melting with the morning sky. In unison, they lift with no effort, their metal masses appear to be massless as they float in the sky.
Making small adjustments, Titan-1 points its nose slightly down and begins to move towards Lannisport. With the others following suit. The ocean breaks underneath their blades, seafoam forming with every rotation of the blades. Viper pilots and co-pilots stayed vigilant, scanning the skies and sea. 20 mm rotary cannon following every head movement.
Because of the condition of being a league away from the port city, the aircraft pushed their throttles to a speed of 45 miles an hour. Not their top speed, yes, but fast enough to make good time to the USS Savannah.
USS Savannah, 15 Minutes to pick-up, 1145 Hours, Nov 3rd, 2025
whop whop whop whop
Master Lorwell looks up from a “Notebook” that Kelly gave him as a gift. “Lady Kelly, What is that sound? It is getting louder.” He looks at her then towards the sound in confusion.
She takes a look and smiles, “That Maester Lorwell… is the pickup cavalry”.
whop whop whop whop
“Alright everyone! Hold on to everything lightweight and not bolted down! If you are Westerosi, cover your ears, this is going to be noisy!” Captain Richard ordered everyone making final checks to the area.
As Marines scramble to grab anything and everything as orders, the Westerosi that are there seem confused by the order, But when the sound gets closer by each second, they then look to Lord Commander Torren for orders.
“Everyone do as the Captain says!” As he puts his helm under his arm and covers his ears. They then followed suit.
whop whop whop whop whop whop whop whop
The noise gets louder and louder, then it's right on top of them.
whop whop whop whop whop whop whop
You could feel the noise deep in your chest. Like the rhythm of a horse galloping at full speed down a flat road. Or sails in a harsh wind at sea.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpth-
The noise and feel of the wind rushing on top of them went away as fast as it came. Lorwell looked up from shielding his eyes to see five flying metal birds. No, they looked more like giant metal dragonflies. Moving in unison over the city, as if they're birds flocking because you startle a large group of them in a field. It was very much an extraordinary sight.
“Gods be good. The dragons truly have returned.” The Lord Commander says, slowly getting up from the ground as he had leaped for cover behind a chair. To his right, black shoes shone in the sunlight. He could see his reflection in them, following them up it was Captain Richard with his hand reached out.
“No Lord Commander. They are simply the proud men and women of the United States Marine Corps Aviation.”
[Authors Notes: Special thanks to the following for all their help on this chapter]
- @RadjaDawamindra (on wattpad)
- @dragonlord371 (on twitter)