The Kursk Sails Again

The Kursk

Tucson, Arizona – May 12, 2013 – The Submarine, The Kursk Sails Again.  The Russian submarine, K-141, the Kursk sunk in the Barents Sea 13 years ago in a mysterious accident in August 12, 2000.  But with the help of awarding winning Australian playwright Sasha Janowicz, illustrator Andrea Montano and film producer James A. Bretney, The Kursk Sails Again in a new graphic novel: The Kursk.

Andrea Montano's Art

Bretney is raising money on Kickstarter to make his dream a reality.  “I invite you to discover a new world, world of intrigue and honor, of danger and mystery.  By donating to our campaign, I guarantee you will have done good thing.  You will reinforce the health of your community and the world that is only good by the results of good men.”

Playwright Sasha Janowicz

“Sasha’s play won the 2007 Bell Award for Best New Play, the Matilda award three times for Best New Australian Play, Best Direction, and Best Independent Production, Matilda Awards,” said front man James A. Bretney.  “It is a good story about bravery and courage and it raises questions about what really happened and the people deserve answers.  The families of those who died deserve answers to what happened and how their loved ones lived and died.”

Bretney hopes the visual medium of the graphic novel will resonate with younger viewers.  “Andrea Montano is in her twenties.  She is very young.  She has a youthful vitality in her portfolio.  She handles color and lighting very well.  Comics books are a billion dollar market with more users not only going to the comic book stores but downloading them from websites and smart phones.  We want to bring this story to a world stage.”

To Donate to this campaign:

Mayday

Mayday

I.

Mission time:  Day 45, 0700 hours. The spaceship "SS Steel Joseph" is exploring the outer reaches of Alpha Centauri.

Inside the Captain's quarters, the Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander  Theodore Black meets with the Skipper of the boat - Captain Thomas Pope.  

"So there it is.  No re-supply.  Where's the justice in that?" Pope says.

"There is no god, therefore there is no re-supply."  Seeing his joke, did not go over well, Black replies, "The Centre says, 'It's simply not possible.' At least not for a few days."

"They said that three days ago."

"We are behind schedule seven days, Skipper.  But they have emphasized with great emphasis the importance of the information you are sending back Captain."

"I will talk to them.  Is that it then, Ted?"  The Captain gets up

"No sir."  Black pulls out a manila folder.  "There's the Angel affair."

"We have been over this Commander."

"Sir, its a question of discipline.  We cannot have technicians missing movement especially in essential missions such as these.  Justice must be swift to be effective."

"This will be the last time.  We discuss this  Lieutenant Commander.  Pending a full Medical review, Space Technician Michael Angelides is on rear detachment at Roosevelt Flats."

"But he has no more leave saved up."

"No one in his chain of command supports your prosecution of Angelides.  Let me ask you something.  Angelides is a propulsion mechanic.  Do you want to entrust the ship's propulsion to twenty two year old kid who delivered his still son?  Do not bring this up again.  That is an order, do you understand Lieutenant Commander Black?"

II.

1000 hours.  Black enters the bridge.  

The Helio Physics Officer Ensign Bartholew Childers reports, "It's interspace phenomena that we do not have enough data to assess the danger."

"What is it?"  Black demands.

"As I was explaining to the Captain, Commander, the sensors are picking up highly magnetized particle nebula."

"Your science experiment have to do with our mission.  Proceed on present course."

The Chief of the Boat, a salty man vested into middle aged named Salvador Pike snapped, "That is not your decision."

Captain Pope interjects, "This particle nebula will intercept our current heading for Alpha Centauri Beta B."

Childers states, "We may have to abort the mission to avoid the particle nebula."

"We can't just wait it out?"

The Captain states flatly. "You know our supply situation better than any of us.  The Wilson Station 4 is 2 parsecs away.  It would take months to reach us."

"The Scientific consensus states Particle Nebulas will in no way harm satellites. It will not harm us especially with its double hull construction.  If we abort this mission the Centre will want more than answers.  We must proceed forward." 

Childers interrupted, "So what happened to the crew of the Stanislaw?"

"Do you always coat insubordination Ensign Childers with oddball conspiracy theories or is this improvised ejaculation a special indulgence?"

"That's enough!" Captain Pope bellows.  "The Uncle Joe is a good ship."  The words 'good ship' alarm the men on the bridge. "The Centre wants results."  The Captain eyes Black speciously.  "Compartment 9, ready the engines on course heading "227 degrees, angle 45 and sustain that heading at point double six parsecs at point sub-warp six."

The Helmsman, Petty Officer Third Class Sigmund Charon responds, "heading "227 degrees, angle 45 copy."

Over the intercom, Lieutenant Gaius Wheeler reports back, "Engines at point sub-warp six in 5, 4, 3, 2 . . . "

Collision.

The collision rattles the ship sending smoke on the bridge.  The Chief of the Boat takes over firefight responsibilities, he and two technicians squelch the fire.

Pope: "Charon reverse 180 degrees angle 225."

A second collision.

The intercom reports, "Damage to reactor one.  Shutting rector one down."

A third collision knocks out Commander Black.

III.

Black out.

Black wakes up in the infirmary.  He sees a pistol on the table.  Then the medic, Petty Officer Second Class Donald Reed patches him up.

"XO, you have  a mild concussion."

"Where are we?  Where is everyone?"

"You have been out for a few days."

"Answer my question Petty Officer!"

Petty Officer Second Class Donald Reed looks at the the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black.  Then Captain Pope's voice comes over the intercom, "Petty Officer Reed, we need you in the bridge."

"Excuse me Commander."

The XO, Lieutenant Commander Black sees the pistol is no longer there.  He waits and waits but the doctor doesn't come back.  He steps out of the infirmary and searches the ship.  No one is onboard. Every compartment he enters he sees the pistol and when he confirms its there, it's gone.  He tries hailing Headquarters dubbed "the Centre."  No luck.  He tries to control the ship by himself but the meteors have damaged the thrusters. The ship is adrift.

He hears a voice of some of the crew in whispers.  The Captain calls the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black and asks for a report over the intercom.  the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black checks in but the Captain can't hear him report.  the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black sees the gun.  This time he picks it up.

He hears the InterSat radio break squelch and he moves to the communications console.  The SS Vladimir is hailing.  the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black returns the greeting.  But the Vladimir can't hear him but they report that she and the SS Catherine Parr are 0.1 parsecs away and closing to the Steel Joseph's Keplar coordinates.  He is happy then a hand grasps his shoulder, firm and hard.  He turns and a corpse falls at his feet.  It is the emaciated corpse of the Chief of the Boat, Master Chief Pike.  He cannot recognize the corpse except by his nameplate.  

He looks across the bridge and the technicians at the stations are all dead much by the same means.  He screams and then he hears the Captain hailing him on the intercom.  The Captain is yelling him and telling he has to get a hold of himself.  the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black asks the Captain if he can hear him.  He says of course, he can hear him.  the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black asks what happened to the crew and why are they all dead, what did they die of?  The Captain refutes that and that they are all fine and healthy.  When the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black looks again, the corpses are gone.  He asks where are the men?  The Captain says they are all in the ward room celebrating their scientific conquest and invites him to join them.

The XO, Lieutenant Commander Black enters the ward room and sure enough the crew is there gorging itself on food and drink.  Everyone appears in good spirits and happy.  The captain congratulates the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black and informs him that he is recommending for a commendation and early promotion for recommending his bold action.  Hr eats and enjoys himself and everyone is toasting to him and back slapping him.  He says weakly that he is just happy to see the crew, alive and happy.  Then he sees the medic  eat raw meat like a dog.  Then men start fighting amongst themselves for portions.  The food is the corpse of the young ensign.  The crew are no longer healthy men anymore but zombie starving to death.  He shoots his pistol at them.  After 3 shots, they are all dead.  He leaves the ward room and hears.  "We're coming to get you. We're coming to get you."

Finally he sees with open eyes.  The crew all of the crew is dead and died at their battle stations having starved to death.  He sees the air lock.  Light.

IV.

The Captain of the Vladimir asks the investigating officer what happened to the Steel Joseph.  The Investigating Officer states that the ship had been adrift for 3 years having been damaged by meteors from the Storm Nebula.  Without the ability to move or communicate, with the crew died of starvation.  the XO, Lieutenant Commander Black came out of a coma and shot himself.

The Captain of the Vladimir tells him to finish his report and have it on his desk by close of business today.

Call Me Robby

Preface:  I have written a short story about some things I remember during the war. Some of it is fictionalized but most of it is true. Some of it is very obscene.

Call Me Robby.  Robby Brantly.

One alibi, don't believe everything I say.  I am a liar.  What I say, I say for me.  Language gets me what I want.  That's what it was invented.   The sooner you learn that . . .

The first time I pointed shot a man was on coming off Irish and into the MSR into the Green Zone.  I hated those convoys.  Small and light package, always carrying some VIP.  Why don't you just take a chopper and spare us the trouble?  Anyway, we are out there and this guy comes into our convoy.  The first shot was into the ground.  He stopped cold.  The guy was older, lumpy, mustache, not an engineer or lawyer.  I could see him pucker up and quiver.  There must have been 20 other people in the van he was driving.  We have the right way pal.  I felt two things - power and guilt.  Guilt because I was destroying something beautiful, the way a rose or a sunset and I felt power.  There's nothing like dominating a man in the way prisoner rapes a man in jail or the way a man smears his dog's nose in the filth and the excreta that came from his bowels.  Those two emotions never leave you.  You can amplify the one and filter the other but you always feel both.

We had this puppy that my sergeant was sweet one.  We would feed it.  He was cute a thing.  He had white fur, fluffy, big feet was going to be a big dog someday.  Fatso, he would always feed it. I forgot what Fatso called it.   Didn't matter how many times I kicked it.  I only kicked it once.    That dog loved me.  I kept looking at this dog and thinking, if you were born in the Colorado, or Georgia or even my home of Rock Hill, South Carolina, you would have had a chance.  It's the first time I ever wanted something that was born over here to be over there.  First Sergeant wanted all the dogs gone.  He said they carried diseases.  Top detailed the two cooks to kill all animals or pets that we had.  But I didn't want Van Damme to kill my dog.  So I took the dog outside the compound away toward the main gate.  The first shot isn't kill him.  It wounded him.  I finished him off with a rock.  It took a couple of time, but he was dead.

There's really only two things I am good at.  I am good with women.  It's really not that hard, once you do it as long as I have and I have been doing it for a while.  Myrtle Beach is an easy place to get laid. And I was very young the first time - too young.  But to be honest with you.  I like men.  I like being with another man.  I like both giving and receiving.  It's different but when you have a man in your mouth.  He is receiving pleasure because you are giving it to him.  He is giving the best parts of him to you and you have a position of trust.  I don't tell many people about that part of me.  I have a reputation to maintain.  What would Janice think?  And Amanda?  And Christine?  And Julie?  But I said it, if you believe it.

It's like this.  I like to cuddle with these guys after I am done.  But I don't want them over.  I usually go to their house or they come and they go.  No sleep overs.  I just don't want to deal with it.  A woman she can sleep over if she wants to and if they are with me you better believe they want to.

You now I watched a lot of porn there.  I shared a hooch with Fatso before the Fat piece of garbage choked me.  I should have killed him when I had the chance.  When I did have some privacy.  I'd watch a lot of gang bangs.  Before she went to jail this pornographic actress, Paula Denton, held the record of most guys ejaculating inside her.  I wish I could have been there for that.  Sometimes I wish I was that pornographic actress taking in all that filth my soul commingling with all of theirs.  And I would be there acting, "Yes!  Yes!  Give it to me."

Don't judge me.  I saw a lot strange things over there.  I remember walking into the Motor Pool.  Everyone in the motor pool lived in a connex.  Don't ask me why they wanted to live there.  Saddam built these stone palaces and these guys are all living in an open bay and every one o them has their lap tops out either looking at porn.  Jared showed me a woman a pool sucking off a dog.  I might be gay sometimes but I have my limits.  Jared's boss Amos is talking to his wife not five feet away.  I wonder why Jared is not talking to his wife.  I guess if he caught her in bed with Weeblo, I wouldn't call her either.  I am just glad he hasn't caught me.

I am not very good at fighting but the idea of dying especially having my neck opened up with a blunt knife keeps me up late at night.  You know I have been criss crossing being home and being over there and back and forth, I loose my sense of what is real.  I make love to Janice.  I pound Amanda. have sex with Julie and I let Christine take me but I make love with Janice.  She loves me.  She is the only one that writes to me and sends me things.  Where was I?

A lot of times we would run out to these outposts to re-supply the guys and the guys would lets alone a lot.  You would think that would be a good thing to have your freedom but I am 6'4 blonde 24 year old who weighs maybe 180 lbs?  I haven't been running.  So we see these guys hanging out at the hajji shops.  I don't know if they are one of them has a cellphone with my number on it.  One thing I do know, they won't have the jump on me so I spray the hajji shop.

Jared says to me, "Are you ok Robby?"

"I felt threatened."  I told him.

It happened so many times he stopped asking.  This was long after Fatso left.  He couldn't soldier anymore.  Not after his wife left him.  You know he got me promoted.  This was after he found out about me and his old lady.  Get off my case will you?  This was before they were married.  Fatso wouldn't have tolerated that of course, he wasn't afraid to die.

Don't ask me how this happened but I running a patrol right before 15 minutes curfew.  I see this Muslim bitch and her kid.  She is talking trash and I am talking back to her.  I can't understand her and she me.  Suddenly I have to equalize this conversation so I pull out my 45 and level it to her head.  She must be about twenty feet away from me.  She is holding her kid's hand.  She just wouldn't shut up and she shouldn't have been on the street.  So I shoot her.  Bitch that she was.  I am a horrible shot but this bullet gets her between the eyes.  Her kid's crying.  He's holding his mother.  Blood is bleeding out her mouth.  I think she is cursing me in Persian.  Go figure, the Arabs have to speak Persian to let a real insult go.  This kid's a problem.  I don't need any witnesses so I take care of him too.

The guys aren't going to rat me out.  I have seen them do a lot worse.  But you know?  It doesn't matter how much bonus money they offer me, like it matters all of it is gone and gone within weeks of me having it, sooner or later, my number will come up.  So I got out.  I got out on a medical, but whatever.  I get a check, drugs (some of it legal - and free to me) some of it not which I sell.  I am still young - a kid at 33.  I am on that street next to the mosque and the kid and his Mom are both bleeding out and I am alone.  I have never been alone - not in a combat zone.  The kid gets up and I empty my mag into the kid.  Pieces of him are ripped away by the metal like a chainsaw to a teddy bear.  Then his bitch Muslim mother bloody chador and all gets up starts walking toward me.  I drop my 45 and pick up my M4 slung over my shoulder but it jams.  I have beat this thing with my bare hands.  She she is hissing and growling at me snapping at me and I am basing her in the face and choking her so that she turns blue.  Only its not that Muslim bitch, it's Janice.  I have woken up in my bed next to Janice and she has turned blue and isn't moving.

She coughs.

She doesn't sleep over anymore.  No one does its just me.  Me and my drugs, my Jim Bean and my check. Call me Robby and I am liar.

Cynicism is a justifiable response to Arrogance

My response to Brandon Easton's Podcast:

http://writingforrookies.podcastpeople.com/posts/51505

It is a 45 minute podcast but in those 45 minutes what you have described is an unmet customer need.  Without knowing your specific point of reference, I would say that the Geeks do have a point.  My collaborator Cody Garcia would whine about this all the time Hollywood is dead and it does not have any new ideas.  I will go one further Hollywood sucks.  Culturally it fell off and it has this cognitive dissonance with the fan public it serves,  Certainly you can see that.

I grew up a fan boy loving mostly Marvel and DC.  But I don't go and see the movies anymore.  I don't buy the books.  I have moved on with my life and I don't agree with the direction they have taken.  I am a lot older than the Gen Ys but they are saying the same thing and maybe it is because you never want to hear someone whine, but as a manager when someone whines I listen because there is a business opportunity there.  

The Industry is set up to take 100 million risks.  If Scott Pilgrim was made for $ 15 million rather than $ 90 million, people would be singing a different tune.  Not everything must be a 100 million.  You mock the self loathing cynicism of man-children, but number 1, we were that age once and number 2, the cynicism is justified when you have the arrogance of the writer's staff from Buffy the Vampire Slayer that is running Hollywood.  

The industry is there to serve the customer not the other way around.  Customers always have an opinions and  believe things some of which is based on nothing.  But come on be real.  You grew up in the 80s.  One episode of the A-team is better than half the stuff in the movie theater nowadays.  You don't have to be an insider to know that the material that is coming out of Hollywood sucks and the execs are risk averse weenies.

If I am off base, name names.  Thoughts?

James A. Bretney

Tucson, Arizona