For what must have been the hundredth time, the young man reread his warning orders, praying he might find some vital detail he had heretofore missed, ideally one that would hint towards what his new job actually was. Unlike some, he had not chosen to be transferred, not volunteered for this... UNXIPU or whatever the hell it was. If he had had it his way, the man would never have left Chinese soil, never even left Hainan Island and yet here he was, surrounded by [i]foreigners[/i] (including many of those dirty Americans that had plagued his district so badly) in a [i]foreign[/i] helicopter, flying over a dusty, boring, [i]foreign[/i] land... For all the recent hype about UFOs, he felt more alienated by present company than the spectre of little green men. At least there were a few proper Han on board, even if they were mostly lab rats nattering away about exoplanetary objects and the Fermi Paradox; all of which went well above his head of course. Jiang Shaozu was a simple policeman, albeit a paramilitary-trained policeman; science was not his thing and the enthusiasm displayed by the scientists was a bit off-putting. He tried to ignore them, roving his bored gaze around the cabin to size up the other occupants. Most were military, which was funny considering this was all just some UFO nut's wet dream and by no means a serious venture and a lot were Caucasian; Americans, by their uniforms... Shaozu made no attempt to hide his contempt for them, representatives of the last gasp of Western imperialism, relics of a bygone age. Although he himself never realised it, Shaozu was in fact extremely racist, a products of his heavily indoctrinated upbringing. Red flags and the ever-watching gaze of the Great Chairman had been an omnipresent fixture of his life and the roots of his prejudice ran deep. It probably didn't help that the USA had done everything in its power to halt China's rise during his childhood...

However this bigotry was not universal and there were some nationalities that Shaozu had learned to respect. That Indian for example; the Indian Army was one of the only military forces left on Earth powerful enough to give China pause and the People's Armed Police, Shaozu's parent force, had drilled extensively with their Indian counterparts. From national rivalry had come inter-service friendships and more. The only foreigner he had more respect for on this chopper was the Ghurka. If there was any military axiom that was nigh on universal, it was this; [i]Never fuck with a Ghurka.[/i] His gaze lingered on the man's belt where hung the iconic khukri, wondering if the silent Nepali might be open to a chat. In typical fashion, the moment he opened his mouth to speak, the intercom spluttered to life. British... another nation of failed imperialists. While his disdain for America was due their national blundering and pigheadedness, Britain wasn't even worth that. Like many of his countrymen, Shaozu looked down on them as impotent fossils, relics of an even older and more barbaric age of imperialism. Come to think of it, if he hadn't been forced to learn basic English by his superiors, then he would never have qualified for this transfer. He wouldn't have had to endure this... indignity. [i]Ah well...[/i] he thought glumly as the chopper approached its destination. [i]At least I get good pay. They had better have proper dim sum...[/i] The urge to spark up a cigarette and clear the stench was overwhelming...