Rilbur

Chapter Ten “Hey JB,” Mathews said as Jared walked into his day-cabin. The marine who had escorted him there saluted, and then closed the door with himself on the other side. “You wanted to talk?” Jared asked softly. This conversation had been coming for the better part of a week now, and both of them had been avoiding it. Jared had to deal with his sons, and Mathews had to deal with his superiors' less-than-pleased reactions to getting the Federation into a shooting war with the US. So f

Jared grinned at Mathews. “Loud!” he said over the roar, the instant before it dropped down sharply. “Assault shuttles coming in at maximum burn usually are!” Mathews shouted back as the noise started to rise again. “The fun part is that was just the first half of the wing, doing a combat sweep of the area before landing. What you're hearing now is pure engine noise from the others coming in to a landing. Those things are noisy!” “Combat sweep?” Richardson asked. “Well, I'm sure as a s

That much is a given -- this is a nineteen chapter story now.

The blotchy surface of the ceiling above them didn't hold any miraculous revelations, but Jared could see beyond it in his mind’s eye to the sea of stars. Space, once called the final frontier. Technically, it still was, but no one bothered to call it that. It just... was. A place of awe, mystery, and wonder. Space. Cold, unforgiving, hostile, and mankind's salvation. Even Jared, mere 'grunt' as he was, knew how important it was. The great asteroid mines overseen by the Federation provi

Jared was tired of this damned hole in the ground. Damned tired. "General, I'm not asking for permission to move out permanently. I'm asking to take my sons out for a birthday party, a day trip to a local amusement park." "Sergeant, I'd love to give it to you," General Thatcher sighed. "I actually fought tooth and nail with my superiors, but they won't budge. I'm sorry." "The same God-damned 'security concerns' that have kept me locked up in here for the last sixth months?" Jared asked wit

“So, that's the story,” Jared finished. “You can figure out the rest, you probably know plenty of it. It's just... now that you know...” “Fuck,” Captain Mathers shook his head. “I'm not sure what to make of this. You're right, it changes... it changes everything!” “I hurt him. I hurt him a lot,” Jared said, pain in his voice and unshed tears fogging his eyes. “But... it wasn't all my fault. How else could I have... once my feet were on this road, an act I had no choice in, how else could I

We can. We don't.

Perhaps it would help if you posted dates when you posted a dated (in the sense of being new) news article. I thought this was a recent news piece.

How exactly are those statements comedic? I meant them quite seriously, though someone pointed out that the 2 days without water isn't strictly true -- in extremely hot environments in runs true, but Somalia probably isn't the hottest, dryest environment possible. Despite that, four or five days of no water, with the probable compounding issues of exposure, poor health, and injuries, would still mean almost certain death.

Jared sighed as he looked at the boxes still left to unpack. Even with most of their prior belongings still contaminated, the sheer amount of stuff to put away was rather awe-inspiring. Moving was never for the faint of heart, and the fact that so many of their belongings remained in their original wrapping was making things slower, not faster. Still, they'd managed to make a considerable dent in the pile of boxes waiting to be put away. “All right boys, I think it's time to knock off for di

”Alright guys,” Jared said, smiling for the benefit of his kids. He hated shopping. “The government is paying for us to replace everything we lost at the house. Since we're going to be staying at a government run facility for a while we're on a limited list that allows us to buy,” he pulled the list up on his tablet. “Clothing, personal electronics, entertainment, children's toys, a limited selection of sports equipment, personal supplies and a special 'discretionary' fund for whatever cross

Then the hostages are dead. No water for two days means dead. The reason I haven't suggested invading and trying to enforce order is because that just won't work. It would take a full-scale invasion, and then an occupation lasting for years. (Look at Iraq and Iran, please). You can kill the current crop of warlords with assassination, sure, but you need to break the cultural landscape that encourages warlords to exist. What prisons? Execution is the only acceptable punishment for piracy.

There usually is. I'm sorry I waited as long as I did to break the time, but there wasn't really a better way to do it earlier. And I thought it pretty obvious, once I started talking about nanotech

I sure as hell hope I didn't so much as imply the doctor was a line officer! (Though I'm not sure if that distinction exists outside of the Navy, now that I think of it...)

BTW, to touch on why I'm releasing the 'old' chapters one day at a time... I'm trying to avoid flooding the entire 'new stories' section by spacing them out, rather than having the story publish, and then chapters one through ten, all up there bumping other people out.. If there's a better way to do that, please do let me know.

Yes, yes it is.

Well, I have a thread on the subject already (the last post is what you want) but I guess I should go over it again. Trillion Dollar Family was a story originally written for the novella contest. But I wasn't happy with it, then or now. The ending was rushed because of the time deadline, and the entire story was rushed because I had to fit it in 70,000 words. It was too big of a story for the novella contest, and I didn't realize it until too late (unlike my current batch of stories, which look like they're going to be too short for the next novella contest...). I was shocked and amazed that I won any prize for it (I honestly felt Altimexi's work Fish out of Water should have taken first, which would have bumped me out altogether). My solution was a complete rewrite of the story. In addition to edit work -- some chapters have major revisions, others just minor -- I've also added new chapters. The old story was nine chapters long, this one is nineteen. Nine of those ten chapters occur after what used to be the end. I've put a notice in the 'story note' about this being a rewrite; how can I make this clearer to someone who stumbles across it, without hitting brand new readers over the head with it with a 2x4?

Please tell me that's a f**king joke. The navy is not, and has never been, a police force, and therefore don't have to worry about Miranda rights. (Human rights are another matter) Um, destroyers are exactly what the US Navy would use to fight 'highly maneuverable vessels'. They wouldn't use torpedoes on them, but the 5 inch gun (shells) are essentially designed for exactly that kind of fight. How the hell do you dodge a bullet? Also, a modern destroyer can maintain a speed of '35+ knots' -- I don't know how long they can maintain that speed before they run out of fuel, but that easily matches the specs Red_A gave for the pirates skiffs. Add in armed helicopters off their flight decks, and they can shut down large regions of coastline if they have to. No, my assumption was they operated over thousands of miles of coastline. That's why I thought mines wouldn't work. Mining the ports where the resupply vessels are based would be a very smart, economical use of mines, however, and if they don't have the entirety of Somalia to launch from, that makes life even easier. Which is patently impossible. Too many of them, and more will spring up while you're attacking a given group. Just make the entire business unprofitable instead. Destroy any of them that try to take a ship, and if they do take a ship, kill them. And if they take hostages, 'millions for defense, not one penny in tribute' -- even if you kill all the hostages, they don't make money off them. You don't negotiate. You don't debate. That just opens the road to more deaths.

HH5, 'armed speed boats' are exactly what the Somali's are using. While I won't deny that a destroyer is overkill for this type of mission, it's still a very effective type of ship for this type of mission. Frigates might fit better, except the US navy has been phasing them out lately (they're so small they don't have the 'multi-role' capability the Navy wants), leaving destroyers as the smallest, ocean-going vessel available. (Note: they are starting to continue construction of the class, but I don't think they've gotten approval for the funding yet) Their radar has a (very large) reach, letting them keep an eye on hundreds of miles of ocean at a time, while their guns can destroy entire fleets of Somali boats if it comes to that. And if a Somali boat gets too far out of line, while a missile is probably overkill, a destroyer still has plenty of those (and torpedoes) waiting for any real threats. As for using mines to blockade their coast, that's a terrible idea. First, it'd be much more expensive than throwing a couple of carriers at the problem, because the minefield density required would require something like billions of mines -- and then you're a threat to navigation, even if none of the mines manage to drift off position. Not only do you have to produce the mines (expensive, even at a few bucks apiece, because of the scale), then you have to place them, and replace the ones that get used. Using 'the tactics they use' is also a very, very bad idea. We aren't talking about an organized government -- which is, of course, the problem. The problem here is the lack of an organized government in Somalia capable of cutting the pirates off at the source. Killing the pirates who poke their noses into the water is a band-aid; the real solution is putting a real government in place. But that's just flat not going to happen, so the best bet is just a few destroyers shutting down their harbors, backed up by some ground troops to go in after the ones that slip out anyway. Edit: I've been doing some reading on the new Independence and Freedom class frigates, now that the conversation has come up, and they would probably be a good fit for this mission, properly equipped. But there aren't enough of them in service at this time to really count.

“What's going on with my son? Oh, and while we're at it with me!” Jared demanded. The doctor's had taken several hours to 'examine the data', and were finally willing to talk to him. He'd profitably spent the same time finding clothes and talking to his kids. The General had been kind enough to send over a selection of civvies in his and his kids' sizes. “I have no clue. He shouldn't still be awake, but clearly he is,” Major Williams said apologetically. “I have, literally, no clue what

Eventually, the blood will run so heavy the bleeding heart liberals will let the military get off their asses and do something. I weep for how long that day will come, all because some idiots think 'violence never solves anything'. We don't have to nuke them 'till they glow; from what I recall, the so-called government there is such a joke we could just station a few destroyers off their coast and simply shut down all their harbors... with maximum prejudice. And if somebody (UN, US, I don't care who) took a 'take a hostage, we shoot you' approach, they'd learn real quick hostage-taking doesn't pay.

“Dad!” David screamed with a volume level only a thirteen year old boy, his voice cracking as he screamed out a single word, could possibly hope to manage. “Davey!” Jared cried out, tears in his eyes as he fell to his knees. “Dad, oh Dad!” David cried, throwing himself into his father's embrace. “They said you were gonna die, then they said you weren't but I couldn't see you, and then they said you were gonna wake up and they let me see you and you looked fine but they said you couldn't wak

It took longer to reach the ending than expected... the chapters just kept on growing on me. And then editing all 19 chapters was a bitch. And then I wanted a last look over by some beta readers... some of whom came up with some really strong bits of advice. It's done. All nineteen chapters of it (though the ending may require some tweaking) are now in GA.Stories. Of course... that doesn't mean you can read them. I've set it up so that one chapter will be released each day for a little over a week -- until chapter 10 or so. I didn't want to flood the system by releasing all of those chapters at once, or my readers by making them sit down and reread that much material all at the same time. You will need to reread these chapters. I'll say it again for those that missed it, even if you read the novella form of this story it is important to reread the entire story. While most of the changes aren't significant, there are a number of changes that you should catch for maximum enjoyment -- and there are some important changes. Chapter 4 is entirely brand new material, and significant sections of other chapters have been rewritten, edited, removed, or otherwise changed. What used to be the end of chapter 9 no longer exists, but you'd find the place it used to exist in chapter 10. Or, if you stretch your mind a bit, nearer the end of chapter 12. Once we get past chapter 10, there will be a weekly posting schedule, with chapters released on Tuesdays, at midnight. (Whether that's California midnight or EST midnight I'm not going to guess). There are 19 chapters, so the last chapter will be up around May 10th or so... right around the time I'm going to be getting ready to graduate from college. The timing wasn't intentional, but I will admit to being tempted to push a few chapters back to get it even closer Read, and enjoy.

Sometimes, life just sucks. Jared Warren knows this better than anyone. His 'loving' marriage has had thirteen long, long years to explain it to him. In detail. But when the choice between an experimental life-saving procedure and dying comes up, he doesn't hesitate. After all, he has to protect his kids!

Jared would have screamed, if he could have controlled his mouth. Every part of his body hurt, hurt bad enough to cut through the haze of morphine and other painkillers to wake him up. The worst part of the problem was that he wasn't lying in bed. He was sitting up and looking around the room with unnaturally keen eyesight. He was staring, for the moment, at a screw in the wall opposite his bed; and he wanted to scream. He could see the top of the screw as clearly as if it were three inche