Per 
About the writer:
I prefer comedic writing, there's a unique challenge to creating a sentence that inspires laughter.
I'm best at technical/descriptive writing, so I plan on stretching that muscle later on.
I am a massive firearms/weapons technology geek, with many years of research into them. If you need information on something in that realm or a "weapon role" cast contact me via wikidot DMs.
Favorite Canon: Resurrection
Favorite SCP: Always changing, thanks to the community.
Writer's Notes: I personally find it harder to write than speak, it feels less authentic. Like the words don't flow as smoothly, or they lose the ease and comfort of use.
- The Breachers
- GOI: VMI
- Formation
- Contact Past
- Orientation Part 1
- Orientation Part 2
- Remember Tomorrow
- Sleep Tight
This was made after an idea I had, I drew random SCP designations from one hat, and random story prompts from another. Results were SCP-999 and Tactical.
The Breachers
"Stack up. Weapons free, Subject is extremely hostile."
Dima breaks open the containment door and rushes in before yelling back hesitantly
"I think there was an error… This thing is cute!"
Taken aback by Dima's uncharacteristically happy tone, the rest of the team pauses before an even stranger sound reaches their ears:
"Hehehe! Stop! Stop it! That tickles!"
As the uncontrolled laughter continues, Warner asks the obvious question:
"Do we intervene? He sounds happy, but it could be one those cognitohazard things."
"What does the Foundation have that isn't a hazard?" Mutters Jens.
Eagerly Anton speaks up "Don't they have a safe class? I heard they have an infinite pizza box!"
"Hehehe! M-my sides are cramping!" Dima squeals in the distance.
Out of curiosity Anton leans to look through the doorway, and is greeted by the odd sight of a 6'.2" Russian man in full black combat rigging laying winded on the floor as an adorable orange blob playfully wiggles one of the loose straps from his backpack.
"Hoo… heh… A-Anton, help me up…" Dima groans.
The blob looks at Anton, and starts making a noise that sounds like gurgling laughter.
"What is it, Anton?" Asks Jens slowly.
"Some kind of gelatinous creature, seems harmless enough."
"Harmless?! That crazed laughter didn't seem like something a 'harmless' creature would cause!"
The creature was at his feet now, staring up at him curiously.
"Hey little buddy, you're not mean, are you?" Anton asks as he reaches down to pick up the diminutive jelly blob, on contact his hand tingles.
It reminds him of having a fine feather run gently over his palm, but he can't contain the laughter that rushes to his mouth. "Sskunff!-Hahaha! Hoo, woo… Eigh…"
Internally Anton questions his sanity as he wakes up after passing out from an asthma attack, before quickly realizing the little blob-creature was staring at him concernedly.
Dima was now standing, yelling at Jens to "Get in here, you think this is funny?! Huh? You may be right, but I'll be damned if you don't get your share!"
He hears Warner stiffle a laugh, before Dima lashes out again: "Do you want a chance?! Hmm? I bet you do! Step right up and get your nerves fried!"
Anton finally can breathe enough to speak:
"We sh-should leave… Before security sh-shows up."
Name: Vulcan Military Industries
Access to Anomalous Items: High
Available Data:
Vulcan Military Industries is the parent company of several military-industry corporations, as the name suggests. They include the following: Vengeance Arms & Tactical Group, Whitfield Security, Heath Motor Corporation, [REDACTED], and several others.
Currently the CEO is "Dietrich Schmidt", the name is believed to be a pseudonym because of its closeness to the German equivalent of "John Smith". While his existence has been proven, he is thought to answer to a secret board titled "The Underwriters". This board is reclusive, and their actions give us reason to believe they have insider information on the Foundation's activities. In most cases, Vulcan's representatives have been open with Foundation requests for information.
Vulcan's subsidiary [REDACTED] is of particular concern, as its Project Mars involves use of reality and spacetime altering anomalies to transport personnel and objects through time to effect history. There have been unconfirmed reports of Project Mars operatives retrieving valuable items to fund the company, along with reported "disappearances" of incriminating documents. Project Mars' representatives have given Foundation leadership a secure line directly to the project lead, who has answered few questions (See Audio Transcript PM/12)
Vulcan operatives have been contracted by the Foundation to bolster the strength of certain combat units. They have performed to Foundation standards, and no breaches of trust or failures to follow Foundation ROEs have been observed.
???: How can I help you, O5-[REDACTED]
O5: Don't use full names my friend, someone could be listening.
???: Ah, of course. Why have you called, has something happened?
O5: The others have questions, they want to ensure you're not doing anything disruptive. The timeline is fragile, we can't fix it if you shatter history.
???: You have The Bloom, do you not? Or is it The Thorn?
O5: …
???: To answer, we have rules to abide by. No operation can alter history in a significant way, but slight bends are allowed if it is necessary for the
greater good.
O5: No exceptions?
???: None.
O5: Next question, How do you know so much about the Foundation's inner workings and secrets?
???: We know as much as we want, after all, you would too.
O5: Fair answer. Question three: Why did you breach cover after working for so long to remain undetected?
???: We wanted to reveal our capabilities, so that others would think twice before interfering with our operations again.
O5: Again?
???: The GOC has been trying to stop Project Mars, since it's not compatible with their agenda of destroying anomalies. They haven't quite gone overt with their operations, but we know it's them.
O5: So how does this benefit us?
???: Think of our staff as your reserves, you can contract them to fill roles within the Foundation that would otherwise require special training. We offer you access to our informants and database, and perhaps most importantly, we use our assets against a common threat.
O5: The Foundation can't afford to start a war, Warner.
Warner: Then can it afford the risk of the GOC starting one?
*Call ended*
Internal Record TIG34/1
Under the authority of the Office of the Present Command, I, Dimitri Vityaz, am authorizing the formation of Temporal Intervention Group 34 'Fourth Time Lucky'. Compound 56 is to be placed under their authority for use as an HQ, and all nearby forces should remain unaware of TIG/34. Authority is given to SMSgt. Lloyd B. to request any supplies or equipment needed for proper operation of the Group. As per tradition, Col. Jorge S. is to be issued a ceremonial crest with the unit's personalized insignia for display. The personnel selected for initial assignment to TIG34's Command Service and their roles are, in order of rank:
(#0054)Col. Jorge S. - Commanding Officer
(#0104)Maj. Abdul G. - Chief Tactician
(#0249) 2LT Antonio P. - Cross-Unit Coordination Officer
(#0034)SMSgt. Lloyd B. - Supply Control Officer
(#0325)SSG. - Sarah W. - Head Of Security
The individual strike teams and their personnel are listed below:
Alpha Team (UN134)
Agent 327 "Stubs" - Marksman
Agent 485 "Tin Man" - Specialist
Agent 118 "Tweaks" - Specialist
Agent 602 "Houston" - Rifleman
Agent 439 "Ant" - Communications
Beta Team (UN135)
Agent 172 "Axel" - Marksman
Agent 459 "Arsenic" - Chem. Weapons Specialist
Agent 258 "Rattler" - Rifleman
Agent 376 "Tiptoe" - Rifleman
Agent 400 "Flatline" - Medic
Charlie Team (UN136)
Agent 275 "Junior" - Communications
Agent 384 "Igor" - Specialist
Agent 408 "Tiny" - Specialist
Agent 396 "Hotfoot" - Rifleman
Agent 253 "Ent" - Rifleman
"The Graveyard Shift"
A team of four slices through the urban slums outside the target, the night air cooling them as they walk beneath a defunct overpass. The members each bear a variety of patches, but most visible is the unmistakable banner plastered across each man's back: A standard issue MTF 'SCP' patch.
"MTF Theta-5-1 reporting in. Insertion is complete, progressing to AO."
"A-firm, carry on."
"Hold. Two persons, left of the window with an AC unit."
"Armed, they're clean targets. Alexi, take the right one. I've got left."
Two suppressed gunshots pierce the night, followed by two more. A pair of silhouettes drop into the grass beside a run-down apartment building. Across an empty lot, four figures begin to advance.
"Marker set, cleanup will have two to drag and bag."
"Noted"
"Devin, get your kit ready."
"It already is."
A shadow passes overhead in the view of the group's NVGs. The lead pauses, then takes a knee.
"5-1, this is command. Drone is onsite, we have eyes on you."
"Received, command. Try to give us fair warning next time, that little buzz-boy almost got shoot down."
"5-1… It's at thirty thousand feet, it should be impossible to see."
"Contact front! Go, go, go! Spread out, and get them!"
A mixture of suppressed and unsuppressed gunshots shatters any semblance of silence.
In separate command rooms, two sides watch carefully. In the Foundation 'Integrated Coordination Center' an analyst watches a wedge of 8 flashing lights advance against 5 faint IR signatures, in the GOC 'Remote Viewing Center' a seer watches 8 MTF operators move into the center of a STRIKE team ambush.
"Go."
Nine White Suits step out from the flanks, deactivate their PAVISE systems, and open fire. The Foundation analyst watches seven of the eight strobes stop moving, and go dark.
"5-1, you're cleared to use the TSG4."
"Hope this 'Vulcan' tech works…"
The MTF operative throws a cylindrical object with a single, cyan, light.
Then the White Suits were never there.
"5-1, this is command. Drone is onsite, we have eyes on you."
"Received, advancing to target."
At TIG 34's safehouse, a temporal disturbance meter blinks on, giving way to a cheer of joy from the personnel around it.
This idea came to me as a single thread of dialog, but I think it has more potential than that.
Contact Past
Out in the middle of the Burmese jungle, five men in khaki uniforms slip through the brush. At least four of them do, Rich seems to make more noise than an Stuka on a vertical dive as he lugs around the Johnson LMG.
"Why couldn't I just get a BAR? This sucker's mag keeps snagging branches."
" 'cause Equipment Procurement likes Johnson's design. Rumor has it that one of their guys slammed his finger in Garand's prototype, so he gave Johnson the contract for the rifles out of spite, then decided he might as well get the MGs too." Whispers Sam.
"Idiotic desk-jockeys, command should've made them fight the Japs' with this junk."
"Has it jammed on you yet?"
"No-"
"Then stop whining and focus. You have twenty rounds of .30-06 on tap, that's excess for a spook assignment. We'll bring up the issues with EP later."
"Yessir, Captain Grouch."
A dissapointed sigh weighs heavily on the air, as Sam shakes his head and asks himself how much trouble he would get into if Rich had an "accident".
"You two are like a bickering couple-what was that!?" Says Bill.
The rest of the team turns to see their rear-guard's sleeve pinned to a branch by a metallic dart.
"Contact?" Says George hesitantly.
"Definitely, head for the village." Sam replies.
"Why aren't we engaging? That's hostile action!" Yells Rich angrily.
"No eyes on target, and if we shoot the entire garrison will know we're here." Sam states calmly.
"Riverbed up ahead, no evidence of enemy presence." Declares Bill.
"Is that so?" Asks a strange voice behind the team. They turn to see a man covered in black equipment they don't recognize, carrying a gun that looks like a tuna.
"Who on God's green earth are you?!"
"Henrik Mann, 113th Temporal Interventions."
"German?"
"Ancestry and loyalty are separate answers, if it makes you feel any better my allegiance is not to any nation."
"Then who sent you?"
"All you really need to know as that I know who you work for: The Foundation. They are a large client of ours, we supply contractors and additional covert resources. I need you to nip a few problems in the bud, namely IJAMEA researchers in the facility you are going to find."
"And how do you think we're going to find an enemy research facility that's unrelated to our objective? For that manner how did you get here? We're two hundred miles from nowhere in a forest!"
"It'll find you, in a way. I wouldn't dare reveal a trade secret."
"I have no reason not to detain or decommission you, so I'd cooperate if I were you"
"No, I have no reason to stay here any longer. You'll do what's needed, I can assure you."
With that, Henrik vanished. No noise, no light, just a space were a man should have been. Sam tried to tell himself something important had happened, but all that was left was a feeling as if he had lost time.
Sometime, a man sits at a desk. He stamps a paper titled "Japanese Nuclear Program" with a pad marked "Corrected"…
"Welcome to Project Mars, Agent 258. I'm Warner Feislen, OIC of this department. You were requested for transfer by your superior due to, and I quote: 'Being a blithering idiot.' I have to ask, how did you manage to get such a glowing recommendation?" Says the stoutly built man with a sarcastic smile.
"I knocked a block of sodium metal into a running sink accidentally…"
"That would do it, I guess… Anyways, you have previous combat experience, right?"
"Yup, I used to work as a PMC. That didn't exactly qualify me for lab work, but they saddled me with it anyway."
"Well, in that case you've made your way into a better unit for your skillset."
"Really?"
"Yes, your security clearance has been raised to X/3 for this transfer. So everythng you hear or see from here on out stays in, am I clear?"
"A-firm."
"Good. Now, this department specializes in temporal corrections and cronologistics… Essentially we fix history and move objects through time, as crazy as that sounds."
"Are… Are you pulling my leg on this?"
"No. Not one bit. As per standard procedure, I have proof."
Warner pulls out a small photo of the agent as a teen, posing next to a redwood tree at a summer camp, with carved wording near their hand. It reads: "Welcome aboard 258".
"Oh, I have that photo on my deskt- What the- I… I remember that mark, but it couldn't have been-"
"It was. Our orienation office put it there yesterday."
"I… I need a moment…"
"Take your time, you'll get to make up for it later. If you want you can go get some rest, and we can continue this briefing tomorrow."
"Y-yeah, I'll take you up on that offer."
After the agent has left, Warner chuckles quietly. There are much worse revelations behind The Curtain, worse than even the Underwriters know.
Agent 258 walks through the sterile white hallways of Facility Gamma, unaware how many eyes are watching, or how much their life is going to be changed by them.
Somewhere, an O5 watches on intently. Somewhen The Underwriters observe the agent closely. Somehow The 113th star sees it all.
The agent enters the door to the conference room, and sits down among the class of concerned recruits. An instructor steps foward and begins speaking:
"Welcome to Project Mars, if you recieved a blue card raise your hand."
All the students raise their hands, although in a disorganized rush.
"Good, you've been asigned to Temporal Interventions. This class is specifically for you. Temporal Interventions is the direct-action component of Project Mars, responsible for all combat missions. As such you won't have to deal with as much of the science-y gibberish."
A collective relieved sigh fills the room…
"…But you still have to learn some of it."
…Followed by a disappointed one.
"So let's start with measurements, you see the world in three dimensions: Length, width, and height. We work in an area that adds two dimensions, the first is Linear Time: Which essentially refers to the "backwards and forwards" axis through time, think Back To The Future-style time travel. The second is Parallel Time: This refers to the "sideways" axis, think of it as travelling between histories. Any questions about these first concepts?"
After some hesitant murmuring, a voice speaks up from the back of the room.
"Between histories, sir? What does that mean?"
"It means going from our "universal bubble" to the neighbors', or going into another universe in layman's terms. There are always differences between each and every universe's history, thus the terminology."
"Can you give an example of those differences, sir?"
"Universe DXC15, for one. Mankind made sentient kitchen utensils that replaced them as the dominant species. Or Universe ISJ47, where political elections are decided by canidate vs. canidate boxing matches.
But most universes' differences are much more subtle, like someone's mother deciding not to get their favorite cereal when they were four, motivating them to become a dictator."
A few stifled laughs intrude on the serious atmosphere of the room, before subsiding.
"Next, how we move along these axis.
We use entities and items classified as Temporal Shifters. These possess the ability to move people, materials, or themselves across time or space, however each one is different. They may only be able to move across one axis, or even only to one location. A perfect example of this is TS/12, a wristwatch owned by the late Harold Green. It will move the wearer to 4:47.39PM, May 7th, 1946 in the Green Estate's front lawn. This is the exact moment that Harold Green was struck by lightning while putting a cover over his wife's tomato garden. After 11:59PM of that day the wearer will be returned to their previous time and location, where no time will seemed to have passed."
Looking at the rest of the class, Agent 258 notices more than a few students have fallen asleep. Before they can return their attention to the instructor, they are interrupted by the sound of a projector screen being opened.
"Now to basic protocols and guidelines for working with Temporal Shifters:
1. Read the relevant documentation, to avoid accidents or misunderstandings.
2. Do not activate non-sentient shifters unless ordered to do so by a Unit Advisor or higher ranked officer.
3. Treat sentient shifters like people, and use the information in their documentation to talk to them as you would a friend.
4. Do not make an enemy out of a sentient shifter, they could beat up your grandchildren.
5. If you are moved through time in an unplanned activation, stay where you are.
6. When writing reports, remember: TENSES ARE CRITICAL.
Any questions?"
…
"Okay, moving on! ROEs are simple, engage if: Operational secrecy or safety are threatened, mission assets are at risk, or enemy personnel are PID'd."
"Fairly relaxed, eh? No requirement that the enemy is armed?" Says a voice in the front row.
"No, our opponents can deploy reality-altering assets. They can kill with a thought, and only a few orgainizations have access to them. Most notably the GOC, but rumors exist that say the Chaos Insurgency has similar capabilities."
"Are there any 'no-shoot' groups?"
"Good question, thanks for reminding me! Anyone related to The SCP Foundation should be treated as an ally. We have inserted your names into their personnel rosters, so they will recognize you as one of them. Any people, objects, locations, or abstract concepts relating to Marshall, Carter, & Dark should be avoided at all costs. The last thing we need is a confrontation with another Anomalous Equipped Orgainization."
"Another?"
"The GOC is openly hostile towards us, something about an 'Fourth Mission Violation'. We still have a representative in their Council of 108, the GOC knows them as 'The 113th Star'. By the way, don't bother with giving the enemy our secrets. We'll just go back in time to reverse it and decommission you."
"Decomission?"
"Render inoperable or useless, for example: How good of an informant is a mute quadriplegic? Or a blind, deafened, triple amputee?"
"So the 'Dead men tell no tales' method?"
"Almost. Forget-a-pills are yet another option, anything that makes the enemy combat ineffective and unable to relay information. I suppose that leads well into our next subject: Intelligence & Recovery."
As the instructor continues, Agent 258's mind wanders to the past. Your past, You are Agent 258.
"Wake up, c'mon! I'll have no sleepers in this class! You've much more to learn."
"Yes, sir."
"Good, we don't waste time here."
END
Writer's Notes:
I wanted to make something that struck home the idea of Project Mars as a major operation, while also inserting the reader. VMI and Project Mars are something for others to use as well, not just me. If you want to incorporate them into something, have a new branch added, or want to link your story to this concept, DM me. Or just go for it, if you think you can make something great with it.
Part 1
In the 'Fourth Time Lucky' safehouse, members of UN134 prepare their gear for a new operation. 'Stubs' fits a QD suppressor to his Mk.12 SPR, as 'Tweaks' racks a round into her SIG Mk.25.
“Everyone, we’ve got a greenlight.”
————
“Anyone got a spare box a’ fourtey-five?”
The ‘American Purity Crusade’ thought their time warping trinket would help them ‘cleanse the national bloodline’, the Feds thought they were a joke. Now the little house in the woods is home to half a dozen Alabama boys, who are all readying their guns for the ‘Crusade’.
The treeline on the other hand, was hosting an MTF. Each member covered in armored clothing and gas masks, with some carrying ballistic shields.
The lead operative moves forward, smashes a window, and tosses a tear gas canister inside.
A muffled yell sounds out.
“Get ‘em, get ‘em!”
The MTF stack advances towards the front doorframe, two agent’s flashlights sweep the now gas shrouded hallway. The agent nearest the left side of the doorframe tosses a flashbang into the hall. It detonates, and ignites the tear gas filling the house.
“Um… Command, the house is fully engulfed in flames.”
“Source?”
“Accidental ignition of tear gas.”
“Reset, returning to previous position.”
The treeline is lined by MTF agents, the lead advances and throws a flashbang through the window. There’s an audible soft thump as the grenade hits a suspect.
Bam!
“Agh! Ahh, my foot! My foot!”
After an hour, Harry Mayfield passes away from blood loss.
“Reset.”
The treeline holds an MTF behind its branches, the lead operative advances, lifts a ‘shorty’ shotgun from his backpack rig, and shoots through the window. The less-lethal round hits the suspect squarely in the gut, he falls and curls up as he lets out a pained groan.
“Urrghh… Muungh… Gahh.”
Harry Mayfield will be transferred to a Foundation infirmary with non-life threatening injuries.
“Harry! They’re here, they’re here!”
The MTF lead fires another less-lethal round through the window frame, striking the second man, who falls to the ground with a heavy thud.
Skip Jones will be transferred to a Foundation infirmary with non-life threatening injuries to the forehead.
The MTF stacks up on the front door of the house, and the second in line kicks the door in.
The first agent enters and sweeps right, the second follows and sweeps left, with the third clearing through the middle.
“Clear right!”
“Clear left!”
“Room clear, move up!”
The team begins to move down the hallway, lining up and clearing room by room.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Instances should be stored in a locked Large Containment Closet, with only relevant research staff provided with a key. All personnel are to avoid entering room with instances in the active configuration from 8pm to 9am local time, no attempts should be made to retrive personnel without written permission from the Site's Head of Research. Should Sleep Tight-C become active, all affected personnel should be assigned to therapy or given amnesthetics.
Description: Sleep Tight is a phenomenon that manifests in bedrooms furnished with a SleepTite brand mattress. (Qualifications are a room larger than 3x4m used by one (1) person, with one (1) bedframe holding a SleepTite brand mattress) that creates many anomalous sub-phenomenon if occupied by one person between 8:30pm and 8:30am local time, the subject must be in a resting/sleeping postision on the mattress. This seems to occur naturally as all personnel who have entered an 'active' room have reported a sudden tiredness. The currently observed phenomena are as follows:
Sleep Tight-A: At exactly 12:00am the blankets and/or any other bedclothes will wrap themselves around the subject, causing asphyxiation through constriction.
Sleep Tight-B: At 2:45am a leak will form directly above the subject's face, and will always drip onto the subject's face regardless of any effort to evade it. Subjects will show extreme psychological degradation within an hour, and psychosis followed by cardiac arrest within 2 hours.
Sleep Tight-C: At 9:05pm a single mosquito will appear above the subject, consitantly harassing the subject by passing near the subject's ear or biting exposed skin. This causes anyone within 15m of the room to experience severe parasitosis, the feeling of bugs either crawling on or underneath the skin. This effect can be debilitating, and lasts for up to 3 weeks after exposure. Victims have suffered varyingly severe cases of PTSD, frequently accompanied by an intense fear of any scenario were they could be exposed to biting insects.
