With an unnerving feeling that too many laws of reality were being broken, the NAO Orbital Command Center materialized, in Low Earth Orbit. It hovered, as the fusion hyperdrives pulsated gently.
And then it exploded.
Several escape pods, along with one heavily damaged attack cruiser, emerged from the maelstrom. They were trailed by several fighters. On the bridge of the cruiser, Thlayli was eating a sandwich.
"Hmm, status report?"
"The headquarters is destroyed, enemy elements are pursuing, and sandwich making capabilities are running at 7%."
"Acceptable losses. Is the waffle iron working?"
"No."
"Damn. Hand over the controls."
As the now vaporized Command Center peacefully rained Rhode Island sized chunks of burning plasma into the ocean, the fighters closed on the
Polyethylene Victory. The one remaining turret fired back, and subnuclear detonations fried two of the three pursuing fighters.
"Out of ammo, sir."
"Bloody hell. Distance to land?"
"2000 meters."
"Good enough, let's bail out. Oh, and make this one explode, too."
Twelve figures dived out of the ship, which exploded into yet another flaming inferno. The fighter broke off pursuit, and vanished back to another alternate reality. The parachuting figures disengaged their personal cloaking devices. A vaguely Middle-Eastern man looked at the High Chairman.
"Well, that could have gone better."
Thlayli grinned. "Yeah, the explosion wasn't nearly as big as I thought it would be. And the confetti was a little much, don't you think?"
The demolitions technician, a panda, shrugged. "Sorry, I couldn't help it."
"You know, at this rate of descent, we aren't going to stop in time."
"That's true...but look at the bright side, we did get here first."
"Is that a windmill?"
"Yeah, it definitely looks like a...hmm."
Moving at roughly 125 miles per hour, the first three NAO soldiers slammed into (and through) the windmill, allowing Thlayli to land neatly on their backs.
"Thanks guys." They mumbled something, probably busy with their broken spines.
"Hm, that spot over there looks good," an otter observed.
"Isn't that underwater?"
"Let's discuss this later. We've attracted an angry mob, for some reason that I fail to understand." Equipped with torches and pitchforks, a large group of North Kingstons was rapidly approaching.
Activating the personal teleportation device, and conveniently forgetting that the other NAO underlings didn't have one, Thlayli disappeared in a flash of blue light.
He reappeared on top of the mountain that overlooked the entire map, er, world. Laughing maniacally, he planted a flag that read, "NAO Chi Minh City."
Orders: Start on top of that mountain, or as high an elevation as possible. Build something large and impressive looking.
