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Settler
Local Time: 02:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Posts: 10
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Ashes
Like Old Times
America. Russia. The entire world existed in a state of reactionism, meticulously following these two super-powers with a mixture of anticipation and dread. America: compact, streamlined, dynamic. Russia: overwhelming, uncompromising, iron-willed. There was no open warfare between the two, yet both were dedicated to bolstering their homelands in preperation for what seemed to be the inevitable.
Greece, caught between the two forces, maintained a proud independance thanks mostly to it's intrepid and resourceful leader, Alexander. While neither neighbor threatened invasion, Alexander still had the undesirable responsibility of maintaining negotiations with both. Despite such unfair hardships, he had crafted his society into a respectable, peace-loving kingdom. The Greek homeland was spread across a diverse ecology, yet lacked crucial resources which had been known to mean the difference between glory and obscurity. Ironically, being lodged between the bear and the eagle was invariably what preserved the Greek shores from the greedy eyes of ambitious warlords.
Untamed jungle, laced with foaming rivers, spread across most of Zululand, which shared a border between all three aforementioned countries. It lacked the dignified grace of Alexander's dominion, existing only because of it's shrewd trades of rubber stockpiles to both America and Russia. It was a tiny, brutal dominion, barely held together by the forceful tactics of King Shaka's military police.
And the world held it's collective breath, humbled before the potential bedlam that threatened to engulf the planet.
"They wouldn't attack us. We're America! We'll be around forever."
"Don't be so headstrong. Do you understand the implications of where you are?"
The two soldiers stood in soaked boots, newly assigned to the 'Last Shift'. Tensile pipes were strung over the churning waves, connecting each tanker to a corresponding transport. Liquid tons of fuel pumped into the dozens of idling transports as smaller runabouts scurried up to collect troops headed home for shoreleave.
"See that?" he pointed towards a horizon, yelling to be heard over the crashing ocean. "That's where Tblisi is, not far from St. Petersburg. Any moment the loudspeaker could come on and tell us to suit up. About an hour or so after that, we'll be neck deep in our own dead, prying rocky coastline from the hands of the Ruskies. Think about it."
"Naw, we're just here as a show of force. There's no way the brass back home would expect us to do something as suicidal as that."
"We're one of three expeditionary forces. There's another flotilla about a hundred miles away, further up the coast. And one more on the other side of the continent. Believe me, they're serious about us making a landing."
"But what good would it do? We'd be outnumbered fifty-to-one. Doesn't make any sense."
"We're here so that the Ruskies have someone to kill while the guys back home rush down. We're a diversion."
Infamy
"....reports light casualties, and no other instances of enemy forces at this moment. Nearly all members of the Senate are accounted for as of 9:00am this morning, and with...what's that, John? It's online? We're turning to a live satellite uplink of a local news agency within Washington... we apologize to our viewers for the poor quality and... wait, is that? Mark, can you double check that? Ladies and gentlemen, I believe that the flag hanging from the traffic light is... Iroquois? Is this a joke? It's...alright. We turn now to a live broadcast of a press conference in Boston headed by the Secretary of State already in progress...."
"....staff and the president are in secure locations. Yes, in the back? As I have already explained, the Iroqouis country is a third world state which borders the Republic of Aztec some sixteen-hundred miles away. Jane, could you display the geography on the monitor? That one over there. Thanks. If you'll look at the monitor, you'll see the Iroqouis borders highlighted in purple. Yes, you? Vital government agencies have temporarily been restationed in Boston for the time being. Washington has already been cleared of infiltration and defenses nationwide are on top alert. Yes? The Russian government maintains an active trade deal with the Iroqouis in which sanctions are placed against America, but this is not to be viewed in any way as collaberation at this time. You, in the front. We have already dispatched mobile forces to the area, escorted by the USS Lincoln and USS McCain. Last one. That question is entirely inappropriate for this conference. I will not comment on any rumors having to do with the SDI system being nonfunctional, nor will I give out any information concerning the state of our nuclear arsenal. That's all the time I have at the moment. Good day."
"India and Greece immediately fell into place, I see."
"They new the time had come to choose a side. They will not be of much use, to be brutally honest. I will likely be liberating them from Germany and Russia respectively."
"Do you think America is up to it? Far be it from me to question your nations potency, Lincoln. I just fear that Russia will be so self-destructive as to take the world with it."
"Dear Cleopatra. I offer this advice, as odd as it may sound. Prepare yourself. It will not merely be between my people and Catherine's. I fear that the world is an overgrown forest of alliances. Just as brittle underbrush purges itself through flames, the world will follow in suit. America is up to the task of defending itself, it's allies, and all free cultures. Do I have your support? Will magnificent Egypt count itself as an ally of Democracy?"
"Of course, Mr. President.
Both escort destroyers were torn apart in the submarine infested waters while approaching the target penninsula. Riddled with bullet holes and leaking a wake of oil, the transport crashed onto the pebbly beach. Mere hours after unloading the medical supplies, vehicle technicians, armored tanks, and the rest of America's tactical operatives, the transport succumbed to an enemy submersible.
The land of the enemy consisted of the tip of the civilized continent. It was a desolate web of overlapping mountain ranges, sparsely freckled with wind-blasted pine trees. Narrow valleys bristled with intensely fortified enemy troops. Paths were invariably blocked by man-made landslides, forcing the Americans directly into the maw of well prepared ambushes. The enemy may have been riding horses and using outdated rifles, but they never passed a chance to cut an American throat.
Fighting was brutal. Nearly as many tanks were lost to the environment as to enemy artillery. There could be no quarter given, no slice of territory to retreat to, and civilians could not be trusted. Nor were the Americans interested in occupying conquered territory. They were there to reduce their enemies ability to intimidate freedom loving citizens. They were too busy staying alive to take pleasure from their retribution.
The Iroqouis' cities burned to the ground. By the time they had been wiped off land into the sea, a single city remained, Centralia, a diminutive village situated on a small island across a channel. Word came that they had surrendered, forfeiting their forces and throwing themselves at the mercy of the American government.
The troops, weary and mud-stained, many of them suffering critical wounds, found themselves in charge of nearly ten-thousand defected civilians and surrendered troops. Migrating to the northern rendezvous point, they pitched in and built fortified temporary living quarters.
One sergeant sat on the barrel of his tank, legs dangling off the side, watching the sun set over the ocean's horizon. A fellow soldier approached him.
"Sir. Permission to speak freely."
"Granted, Ophelia. What's up?"
"Keep thinking about home."
"I keep thinking about my wife. It's natural."
"Was it necessary to build the fortress?"
"This is a primal land. We're far from home. There's plenty of things to kill us out here."
"What do you think the Romans are up to? We saw another battleship cruise by extremely close to our base."
"Yep. I just got word that they've unloaded a drastic number of armored vehicles and infantry to the east. It's obviously more than just a peacekeeping force.
"But why would they want this scrubland?"
"These mountains have multiple sources of uranium."
A runner came trudging up the hill, out of breath. "Sir. Just recieved this transmission. Unencrypted."
The sergeant took the flimsy paper and read it outloud. "Romans seen within Aztec borders. War declared. Alliances called into play. Be wary."
To End All Wars
Lincoln watched battles break out across the continent, creeping towards America. Ironic that America, in an efford to battle terrorism, had begun the inevitable world war. The vacuum of abandoned territory left behind after the abolishment of the Iroqouis created a land grab. Ambitious Rome had laid claim, while the tenacious Aztec republic believed themselves to be the inheritors of the land.
Joan was intelligent. She understood the way of things. She recognized the inevitable. Although she cared little for the burden of annexing the mountainous wastelands to her north, she saw the chance to rid herself of the bothersome, sometimes threatening, Aztec neighbor. Hers was a sacrifice Lincoln could understand all too well. As soon as she deployed her troops into the hostile north, Lady Elizabeth would attempt to catch France off guard. France's roaming foothills of quaint pastures and proud, beaming metropolises, untouched throughout it's history, would be rained with artillery and burnt to ashen plains. Elizabeth and Joan, two soveriegn, proud nations, a microcosm of the Russian/American conflict. Two egos in a world big enough for only one of them. Looking at the globe, the two countries almost appeared to be a single nation split in half: so close to each other, yet both holding a dagger to the others' back.
Elegant Egypt, the undisputed superpower of the West (much to Rome's consternation) had pledged itself in battling both the Aztec and the English aggression.
Lincoln unfolded a newspaper, gliding across the headlines. The press had been milking warmonger rumors of months. Confidential memorandums had been leaked, pointing towards the activation of off-shore transports, and the recent quadrupling of military-related production.
The time was upon them. America and Russia would be tested against each other. The better nation would become the leader of the free world, the other would be irrevocably destroyed. Regardless of which won, both lands would be visited with unparralleled destruction. Millions would die, perhaps a billion, as a result of his leadership. America was not garunteed a victory, either.
Lincoln walked through the concrete corridors of a bunker beneath the White House. He rubbed his face, wiping away the disorientation of having just woken up. "Status."
"Montezuma was found dead, his cabinet has been transported to a prison camp off the Roman coast. The siege of London has ended, Joan claims ownership over the city. Elizabeth has not been heard from in weeks."
"How goes work on the cleanup?"
"Seattle, Houston and Washington all report considerable progress on clearing away the rubble. We have teams working on reducing radiation levels as much as possible, but much land is still uninhabitable. Military infrastructure is being retrofitted to aid with the reconstruction in each city. There's still a lot of work to do, sir."
6.79 million Americans died when the SDI system failed to neutralized three ICBMs. It would have been worse had the other three made it past. Now, looking at the well fortified remains of the Russians, Lincoln was tempted. He wondered which was holding him back, his sense of humanity or the backlash that would form against his country.
"What of the front?"
Initially, the onslaught was as costly as he had imagined. A disturbing number of armored regiments had been destroyed, or otherwise rendered unusable, in the first months. Every yard of Russian dirt was earned the hard way, leaving a path of bodies and shrapnel. When the fray cleared, both sides dripping exaustion, an extensive range of Russian cities had been reduced to wreckage. The problem was that America had nothing left after the intial shock wave.
"Fighting has degenerated into a patchwork of Russian and American forces. Catherine's western front has collapsed, retreated, but has restationed itself in a stretch of backwater cities and consolidated their defenses. Even with the pounding they're taking from the Japanese, we'll need to send fresh troops to the area. The eastern territories are... well..."
"Yes, I know." The eastern half of Russia, populated by the major metropolitan centers, remained unscathed. Despite repeated invasions, the heart of mother Russia stood, bruised, but impenetrable. It shrugged off wave after wave of tanks with an amazing degree of indomintable morale.
"Sir? Sir!"
"Yes, what is it?" He was handed some photographs, still warm from the printer. "What am I looking at?"
"What used to be Moscow. Someone nuked the Ruskies. These are aerial photos from the satellite. You can see the blast radius, on a scale only achievable with nuclear weapons. But we don't know who launched them."
"Uh, we weren't able to track the trajectory? How could we not notice this?"
"Sir? Kharkov, Dnepropetrvsk, Kiev, Tblisi, Kuibyshev, Sevastopol, Smolensk, St. Petersburg, Yakutsk and Novgorod have all been the targets of nuclear missiles. We've recieved intelligence from our agents in those cities. All have sustained massive civilian casualties, and much of their defense forces have been obliterated. Moscow itself is completely unoccupied at the moment."
Lincoln looked at the photos. "God. It's a haulacaust. Send as many decontamination teams as we can spare, and train more. Find out if the Japs have the capacity to of done this. Put as much pressure on the Russians' western border as possible, don't let up. Issue orders to not, under any circumstances, hamper the efforts of their cleanup teams. Step up military production, put everything we have left into it. We've come this far, we'll fight until the world is reduced to ashes."
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