Elweard's Adventure Log
(Author's Note: The story will be in the perspective of the main protagonist, Alexander Elweard.)
My name is Alexander Elweard, but you can just refer to me by my surname. You see, I'm fighter pilot, and a reasonably well-known one at that. I used to serve in the military until me and two fellow pilots resigned, but not before we were given what I think to be the most fabulous starfighters ever designed, the XSF-W1, by its creator, Dr. William Storm. He had hired us to be pilots to demonstrate the three prototypes that he had constructed for the Ultimate Starfighter Project. Unfortunately, the XSF-W1 was disqualified. Not wanting to let such great ships go to waste, he gave them to us. I'm the pilot of Unit 01, christened the "Cyclone", while my close friends, Sonny Joe and Xavier Moscrim, were given Units 02 ("Tornado") and 03 ("Hurricane") respectively. We formed the elite fighter squadron Team Hydra from there, and taken on many challenging but well-paying jobs, also gaining fame and notoriety throughout the galaxy.
One fateful day, we were hired to take on an armada of Reptilian warships. Sonny Joe sacrificed himself and his ship to save our skins during that mission. Afterwards, we buried him and what was left of the "Tornado" someplace where only we and Dr. Storm knows. With a heavy heart, Xavier and I parted ways. While Xavier became a freelance pilot-for-hire, I decided to be an adventurer and to record my experiences in the log which you may be reading right at this very moment. Remembering that the XSF-W1 features an experimental "D-warp drive", a device which allows the user to warp to other dimensions, I decided to use it to seek out new adventures.
Log Entry #1: "Fifties Fracas"
The moment I activated and engaged the D-warp drive for the first time, I felt an extraordinary rush go through me as my ship warped through the dimensional boundaries, and it was getting very, very, VERY bright. When the brightness faded, I found myself about several lightyears above what appears to be Earth. Of course, seeing that I'm actually in an alternate dimension, this is most likely to be an alternate version of Earth. I decided to use the camera sensor system on the "Cyclone" to see if anything is orbiting the planet, and right there and then, I see what looks to be an artificial satellite like those that were first deployed in the mid-1950s, such as the Sputnik 1 and the Explorer 3.
I had realized there and then that it must be somewhere in the 1950s on this alternate Earth. If I remember plenty of things correctly from my history classes when I was homeschooled, a lot of things were going on during the 1950s. I don't have to describe all of them, but there are few, like rock n' roll music being popular, TV was only in black-and-white, McCarthyism (fear mongering and defamation), Dwight D. Eisenhower being elected as President of the United States twice (not in a row, mind you), drive-in diners and theaters being commonplace, and cowboys-and-indians westerns being popular with young boys. Plus, there was also the Civil Rights movement, especially with figures such as Martin Luther King Jr. and the like. Not to mention, the 35-years-long Cold War, with all the political tension, propaganda, nuclear stand-off and proxy wars. Plus, the U.S. and the Soviet Union were always sending covert agents into each other's countries to spy on and steal vital military secrets from each other.
Nonetheless, I had decided to go down to Earth, but not before activating the "Cyclone"'s anti-detection hardware, just to be safe. This made the ship "invisible" to even radar and infrared systems. But alas, the ship doesn't have a cloaking device. Ah, well. Even during atmospheric re-entry, the XSF-W1 (in general, and not just my "Cyclone") handles beautifully and maintains quite a bit (that's putting it lightly) of stability, thanks to its gravity-diffusing ZPE-Harnesses. Only someone on Doc Storm's tier could come up with something that advanced for it to operate that smoothly during the harshness of atmospheric re-entry. As my ship came screaming through the mesosphere, I notice that I'm headed to the Atlantic Ocean. Where would I go from there, you ask? Either somewhere in Europe that isn't in Russia, or somewhere in the continental United States of America.
I thought hard for five whole seconds, until I made my decision; United States it is. After all, I was born in the United States, after all, so I felt it natural to go there. I soon found myself in the troposphere, at an altitude of about 15,000 meters (15km), and I found that I'm in the state of Nevada. Perfect, I could land my ship in Area 51, arrange a few things with the personnel stationed there to keep quiet about its existence, and if they allow it, let me do as I please as long as I don't break any laws. So, I flew my ship there (and making sure that nobody on the way noticed), requested permission to land, and negotiated with the military personnel stationed there. I allowed them to study certain technical aspects of the "Cyclone" (except for certain things) in return for letting me go anyplace in the state as I pleased (and leaving the planet when I'm good and ready), so long as I didn't break any laws. I was provided a car with a full tank of gas, clothes befitting of the period and some money (not going to say how much).
The next day, I drove away from Area 51. My destination; No, not Las Vegas. I'm not one to gamble money away. I had traveled to a small town, which is like any you would see in the mid-1950s. It's also got a drive-in diner, a cinema, a gas station, the works. Even people depending on each other for everything. It's also noon at the moment, so time for lunch. I stopped at the drive-in diner, and decided to have me a cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate milkshake there. As I enjoyed my burger, I noticed a Chevrolet Corvette pulling up into the space next to mine. In the seats; two teenagers, probably high school students in their senior year. A guy wearing a leather varsity jacket and his sweetheart. They too order some burgers with fries and milkshakes. Out on a date, I see.
(This story is a work in progress, so don't expect me to finish this in one setting.)