The Wells Connection: Part II of the Catastrophe’s exclusive coverage of USS Nostromo’s abrupt “Irish Exit”

The remains of Dallas Wells' surfboard, photographed during the legendary 50-year swell ("Fat Tuesday" to locals) off the Flemish Cap in 2079. (Dutch authorities have expressed shock over what they term Wells' "outrageously unlimited uncanny omnipresence.") Wells, investigators say, may be the pivotal key to finally understanding the Nostromo's recent misadventure.

In addition to being the Nostromo‘s acting captain, Dallas Wells was also a legendary surfer.  Since America’s largest commercial fishing vessel/ore & droid-hauler went missing east of the Flemish Cap this August, a number of hardcore surfers have begun posting photos of Wells in his pre-Company youth.  It has since come to light that Wells once attempted a tow-in ride at the Cap itself, twenty years before his Nostromo — it would now appear to be certain — ran fatally to ground in August of this year.  (The Cap is renowned amongst big wave riders for its incredible “left/right break” and “enormous bowl section,” which owe something to the ponderous volcanic and tectonic formations that make up the Mid-Atlantic Ridge beneath her waves.)

Lieutenant Colonel William Kilgore, who mentored Wells’ wave riding as a teenage soldier, was there that day on The Cap:  “He was a natural.  He had that perfect blend of half-stoke, half-oblivious.  And when he got on those waves it was just…pure madman.  He was what we in the tribe call a seeker.  I watched him fall 80 feet that day, down the face of a white wall of unbridled oceanic death.  His board came up in splinters.  Three waves later,  out of nowhere,  Wells pops up whooping and hollering like a fucking wolf with a metal dick.  No fear — do you see what I am saying?  Man, I miss it…”  (Kilgore is probably best known for taking and holding the coastal mouth of the Nung river for over six hours with his elite “Air Cavalry Division” during the Occupy Southeast Asia movement of late ’71.)

Wells' iconic 2072 photograph, shot while standing on the skid of Kilgore's Bell UH-1N ('Huey') during a classified "Napalm run" over Cambodia. (In the middle distance one can discern the anachronistic shock of a Boeing Vertrol CH-47C Chinook.)

Flemish authorities have expressed puzzlement over the revelation of Wells’ early history with The Cap.  Brent Lindqvist, a Marine Safety inspector and forensic pathologist with the Dutch Corps of Engineers, had this to say: “It suggests a terrifying historical nexus of ‘power interests’ between military, corporate, and theological factions within the U.S.  Why was this maverick returned to a site of such devastating psychological humiliation?  Where did the so-called ‘distress signal’ emanate from, really?  These are questions that are being asked on the streets and in the canals of our capital city of Amsterdam.”

Dallas Wells, circa '86.

After completing undergraduate studies at UC Chico, Wells rapidly accelerated through the United States Navy Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor program (SFTI) in Miramar, California, where he became chief instructor in 2081.

And then Wells — nearing the summit of what looked to be a spectacular career trajectory — suddenly left the program citing only “fatigue” in his resignation letter. (SFTI insiders say that it was, in fact, the loss of one of his prized cadets to a Russian MIG-29 [or “Fulcrum”] fighter over the Indian Ocean that prompted Wells to wash out.)  He spent the next several years surfing the Mentawai Islands, Indonesia, El Salvador, Gold Coast, Australia, Bali, Costa Rica, as well as the native breaks of his home state, California.

Wells, 'death-riding' at Station 18, shortly before his return to Private Military Service (PMS). It was at this time, sources say, that Wells was first approached by representatives from The Company, who offered him a position as a captain on one of its myriad deployments.

Recent FOIA petitions filed by the Flemish constabulary with federal agencies in the U.S. have yielded documents that describe a “radical deepening of mission-sense and core values” within The Company shortly before the time of Wells’ hiring.

(Readers of the Catastrophe will recall the illustrious history of The Company,  the private military company founded in 1997 by Erik Prince and Al Clark [2][3]  that  is currently the largest of the U.S. State Department‘s three private security contractors.  The Company provided diplomatic security services to the United States Federal Government in the first four Iraq wars on a no-bid contractual basis.[1] The Company’s current headquarters are located in Arlington, Va.; Kabul, Afghanistan; Yorba Linda, Ca.; Savannah, Ga.; Kingdom of Bahrain; Yamoussoukro, Ivory Coast; Quidobo, Colombia; Paso Robles, Ca.; Swat, Pakistan; Kirkuk, Iraq; Ft. Collins, Co.; and Ciudad Juarez, Mexico.)

Because of severe “optics” issues associated with every foreign country that it has ever served in, The Company has been forced to re-brand itself into a polyphony of subsidiaries and shadow companies.

Although C-1 Associated Security Services is perhaps the name that will be most familiar to non-military personnel, it is EIBON — a ghost-network within C-1 — that has won the majority of domestic contracts since Iraq 5. EIBON’s work in the emerging field of “Agricultural Security” has been particularly robust of late.

”]Kiwileaks, Jimmy Wales’ embattled whistle-blowing website, published over 300,000 documents on Super Fat Tuesday (September 11, 2091) that include several hundred thousand diplomatic cables between State Dept. officials and EIBON executives concerning the “imperative recovery” of a “non-biological intelligence virus.”

An unsettling ambiguity of origin has gathered around EIBON. ("Eibon," is known amongst religious scholars as a figure of indeterminate origin either as a "devouring cannibalistic demon" or as a "guardian of one or several of the seven gates to hell." Hermeneutical scholars have enjoyed centuries of interpretive debate over the import of the controversial symbol.)

Lindqvist and his colleagues at Dutch Marine Safety continue to chip away at blasted ship fragments returned from the Cap, but the ‘utter totality of the destruction’ and the ‘blistered  state of the remains’ have caused the chief to grow almost philosophically reflective: “In all this ashen horror, I vaguely discern a subject — Wells, let’s say — who did what he thought was right for a very long time.  One day he wakes up in a house of avaricious, mendacious cards and realizes that he has been entirely duped.  After a period of joyous estrangement he goes into business with the very devil that betrayed him!  Beyond this — I mean, whether he went into business purely for revenge or for some kind of personal gain — is difficult for me to sense at this time.  I suspect it may have begun as one and then drifted into the other…”  (Lindqvist went on for some time.)

A page from the Nostromo's log, penned by Wells in the last days of her voyage.