NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: http://www.lifeaftertheoilcrash.com/ this RP is based upon the theories of that website and the associated book. There is a sign up thread here: http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=364253&page=2&pp=15
This RP is based in southern Ontario/northern US around Ontario It starts out with the final battle of the war between the US and Canada, and a veteran of that war, 22 year old Jake Thomson, in NYC after being released as a POW. The governments have more or less collapsed, the people of the cities are trying to either flee to more rural areas, or carve out a meager life in the city ruins.

****

IC:

The commanches hovered above the forest for a few brief seconds as they spewed out cannon fire into the trio of LAV IIIs that Jake's platoon had ridden in on. They didn't bother wasting precious rockets on a few infantry sections and moved on to the bulk of the Canadian force, which was tied up with the forward elements of the US 1st cavalry division.

Jake Thomson, 19, and three year veteran of Operation: Northern Shield, the name given to the war to protect Canada from the rest of the world, which desperately wanted its natural resources, especially the oil sands of the west, the fisheries off its shores, and its vast network of freshwater lakes and rivers.

Jake crouched under the foliage until the commanches flew off. He looked back at the destroyed vehicles, his infantry section sergeant had been in there, leaving him, being the Master Corporal, in charge. He signaled to his men to gather to him, only three showed up. "Damnit, where's Jenkins and Hawk?" he muttered, already figuring that they had fled.

"Gone man, saw 'em bolt off towards the east. I tried to shoot, but the commanches made me keep my head down" specialist Lamier, the section's sniper, replied.

"Damnit, where are the other sections?" he asked.

"Never had a chance to get out" private miller responded.

"Okay, we got to link up with the main force, shouldn't be to far. Let's move out!" he shouted as he grabbed his C7A2 and started running in the direction of the main force.

After about half an hour of running through the woods and fields, and dodging an American armour company, they came across the main force.

The front lines were being shattered, the first sights were bodies, both Canadian, and American, scattered amidst the remnants of two companies of Lord Strathcona's heavy horse regiment's C4 tanks. Jake and his men grabbed what they could carry off the body and kept heading north.

They came up to a mechanized regiment, dozens of LAV 3 infantry carriers and mobile gun systems. A pair of LAV-TUAs were there also, the remnants of the guided weapons vehicles.

The last ADATS vehicle they had was there also, only three missiles left in its tubes. The soldiers resting at the site started shouting as Jake approached. Jake dropped his weapon and raised his hands, thinking he was being mistaken for an American, when he heard the faint, but all to familiar sound, of an aircraft.

The ADATS started searching the sky, the surrounding thermal detectors that helped it pick up stealth aircraft were tracing enemy targets.

The ADATS fired its three missiles, as the soldiers took cover and watched the skies.

A dozen dots raced towards them, growing larger each second, the missiles met them, and then only 9 dots came towards them. Jake Screamed for his men to take cover as nine American UCAVs came fired off missiles, bombs, and cannons, ripping through the force as machine guns and rifles fired off in vain hope of doing something as the machines did a flyby. The remaining LAVs started to take off, but the men could already hear the American tanks approaching, and knew all hope was gone.

They M1s fired from afar, their 120mm shells smashing apart the light vehicles with ease, the American artillery fired also, smashing even more Canadians to pieces.

The LAV-TUA that survived the air assault fired off two missiles before a shell destroyed it. The infantry rushed towards the enemy, detemermined to do what they could before the enemy reached nearby Montreal.

Hundreds of soldiers died on each side as the Canadian infantry forced back the American armour with anti-tank weapons and the American infantry engaged.

Jake dropped a pair of marines when the three men with him were killed by a machine gun. A shell landed near Jake, sending him flying. He smacked into the ground hard, and nearly unconcious looked up to the sky to see a large, and horrifically familiar trail of a nuclear weapon. It only took seconds for it to disappear and the mushroom cloud to tell him the last free Canadian city was gone. After seeing the cloud, Jake let the darkness take hold.

*3 years later*

Jake was shaken awake in his cell by an explosion. He bolted upright and ran up to the bars of the jail cell, in a police station that had been taken over by the US army for a base of operations as part of their martial law forces stationed in every city, this one in New York. Jake, and many others like him, were being used by the US forces as manual labour for various operations, but with so many prisoners being taken in, they needed to start filling the police station's small jail as well.

Jake had gotten along well with the US troops, being combat veterans like himself. One of the guards ran by in full battle gear, and with extra bags slung over his shoulder, but stopped when Jake yelled out to him.

"Johnson, what the f--k is going on?!" Jake asked.

"It's over, food shipments have been getting low recently, a good half the city has already left. Food shipments almost stopped, we said we were having bandit problems and that the food was being stockpiled and the largest shipment in two years would come in today. But, the general just admitted the truth, there are no more shipments, our orders were to starve the city to death, to save those in the rural areas from being overrun and having everyone die. But...the General couldn't do it, everyone's trying to riot or flee, some are staying to try to survive, all of us soldiers are getting out now while we can, the artillery and armour is trying to hold the people at bay for our escape..." Johnson talked quickly, while breathing heavily.

"What about me?" Jake asked frantically.

"Here, take these keys, your rifle we took when took you, and they shipped over with you also, they figured if we needed extra manpower, you might make a decent enough conscript. You might find a few mags, as for other gear, you'll likely find bodies or leftover equipment, most of the guys just grabbed what was at hand and left. I actually stocked up...actually, take this bag, it has some food and water in it...good luck, and god bless" Johnson said, as he unlocked the cell and gave him the keys to the station, while also putting one of his extra bags in his hands and running for the exit.

Jake stuffed the keys in his pocket and slung the bag over his shoulder as he raced off towards the armoury, knowing its locations from some of the work he had done in the building.

It only took him a few minutes to find it, and true enough, his C7 was there, complete with M203 and tactical light, though finding extra batteries would be difficult if not impossible. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and grabbed the two pistols that had been left behind. He found three magazines for the rifle, and 5 clips for the pistols, in addition to a few dozen extra rounds lieing around for both.

He searched the other storage areas for bags or other items, and found an extra uniform, and a duffle bag. He went to the cafeteria, found a few empty bottles, and filled them up from the water supply the troops had setup, along with some of the last food that remained.

He headed outside with his gear and looked around, the city was already in flames from rioting, artillery, and bombing from the last US aircraft. Jake stepped foot on the street and began his journey to find a safe haven, he remembered hearing some of his army buddies speak of a place called Polaris that some people who had known about the impending crash had built. But first, he would need to get out of the city.

This is cute, but we already won a war against the U.S. The war of 1812, but don't tell the Americans, they think they won. I know it makes no sence, but that's they way they see it. Point is, really there is no need to fight more. Lets have a big Canuck-Yankee hug.

Bump...yes but this isn't about a war between the US and Canada, this is about the collapse of government and the survivors of the world trying to make a new life and build a new civilization.

OOC: Stay out of RP threads if you're not in them, Mikkius.
IC
The crash had come just after Jack Baker had left college. Well, actually the crash had been happening for years, but the war against Canada had begun then, poetically enough, on his 23rd birthday. He had been dragged into the conflict early on, as he resided in Michigan. The constant battles in his native Detroit and the air strikes across the major population centers of that key region had driven him to try to escape the fighting. But when he had attempted to cross MI's southern border into Ohio, he had been drafted into an infantry regiment and sent to the urban battleground that Detroit had become.

The fighting had been hard on him, and when he saw his best friends killed, he had decided to desert. That was when he learned of the horrors of civilian life. He had remained on with the army until the end of the conflict, when he had been discharged honorably. They had seen fit to let him keep his M16A2 and the rest of his gear, but he was alone in the one of the most fought-over pieces of territory in the war.

*3 years, 4 months later*

Baker was hiding in his bunker from the slave traders that still came through this area to get field workers. Detroit's once proud neighborhoods were now merely walled fortresses of the wealthy, they led a harsh life, but theirs was better than most. The once poor neighborhoods were bombed out and empty, stripped of anything valuable. The poor in the city had almost all been taken to work the fields. All that remained were the insane or unfit, the rich and their bodyguards, and the strongest fighters.

Baker's bunker was formerly a car-repair shop. Its thick, windowless walls had protected him thus far, and he had a stockpile of ammunition from the slavers he had killed, and from his raids on the surrounding area. While he had plenty of material goods, he did not have a lot of food. All of Detroit had already been stripped or destroyed by fighting when he had arrived back at his childhood home. He remembered when word had come that New York was being starved so that the rural communities might survive, and wondered if the same was happening here. Only there was nobody left to starve.

He remembered the peaceful trips he had taken when he was younger into the wilderness. He had learned how to survive without modern convieniances, and that had saved him. As he waited for the most recent approach by slavers to be over, he realized that he would not live much longer in the city. He needed to get out into the wilderness. Where he could live by himself without any worries for the rest of his days.

bump, Ill make another post in the morning

MSgt Ben McCafferty wake up in his apartment, it was 0215. Crap, his sister still wasn't home. Her date had kept her longer than he wanted. He said 0100 or earlier, and he knew the SOB heard him. The door's lock was being turned, it was pretty silent. His sister must have put some WD40 on it before she left. He grabbed his pistol. Both his sister and her date walked in.

"Nice to see you, John isn't it? Well, you can get your butt out of here now. You're two hours and fifteen...now sixteen minutes late. You better have a good explanation."

"My car broke down."

*sniff* "You don't smell of oil or grease, let me see your hands......perfectly clean. Now give me the truth."

"Uhhhhhh........................"

"WRONG! NOW YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS TO GET OUTTA HERE BEFORE I BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT!"

John ran like a suitor in the Odyssey. But this time, the door was open.

Ben's sister walked by and said, "Do you have to do that every time I find a boy I like? You probably scared him off for good."

"Well, if he comes back, that means he really loves you.'

*beepbeepbeepbeep*
Ben's pager went off. "Dangit." Ben went over to the phone and called the base.
"McCafferty....yeah...uh-huh...dammit! When do I deploy?....Good, I'll be bac when I drive my sister over to my Aunt Mary's."

"Dang it Ben! Why Aunt Mary again?"

"She needs help with work now that Uncle Joe's (from another thread) gone. Remember, his ship sunk a few years ago and he's missing. She needs help and her son (17 years old) is more jealous than I am."

Andreus sat down as he was given his briefing from the governor of the commonwealth.
' Ok, your main aim is as a mediator, your job is to help settle the brewing storm as it were. If the situation cannot be resolved, your job is to help evacuate civilians. Do NOT pick a side unless it is absolutely neccecary.'
Andreus got out of the room, the instructions buzzing in his head.
He winced as he put his foot on his mechanical leg. It had been years since he had had his shattered leg and right arm replaced by robotic appendiges. Even though they gave him above normal human strength, he would still have given his, well, right arm to have his old right arm. He began to wonder how on earth he would pacify the situation in its current state. He sighed and made his way to the armoury.
As he picked up a length of automatic ammo, he looked at it and froze. After his days in his gang wars, he had promised never to touch a weapon again.
He shook his head and loaded it into his built in arm slot.

Jake dodged behind a corner as he saw a small crowd rushing in his direction. He set his rifle to full auto and peered out around the corner to see what the crowd was doing. They were entering the police station in search of supplies, and Jake took the opportunity to dash across the street and down an alley.

As he came out of the valley he kicked his feet out and fell onto his back, a group of three armed civilians turned their guns towards him as he fired off his rifle, sending rounds ripping through the three of them. He let out a sigh of relief as they fell and made a mental note to be more cautious. A round hit him in his vest from down the street a bit, a fourth person, armed with a pistol was firing at him.

He jumped to the side, dropping his rifle in the process. He rolled when he hit the ground and drew his pistol as he rolled onto his back, firing off three shots in rapid succession at his assailant.

He searched the bodies for what supplies and ammo they had, though he passed on the bushmaster rifle, sawed of shotgun, and SKS the three he shot first had on them, deciding the extra weight would be an encumberance. He did grab the fourth assailant's pistol though, tucking it into his pants and carrying on towards the north.

He made his way through a large portion of the city, finding some soldiers' bodies on the way, most already stripped, although he managed to scrounge up some supplies from the bodies and buildings. He came across a tent, and a nice large pack which he transferred his stuff into, though he kept the duffel bag. He also grabbed a fishing pole, some fishing equipment, and other outdoor supplies as he trekked across the burning city. The shells had stopped raining down on the city, and when he came up to the perimeter barricades he found them abandoned and ransacked.

He ran into some problems on the way, although he mostly avoided other people, fearing they would attack him because of his uniform. Also on his way, he managed to make a poor looking, rudimentary Canada flag that he stuck onto the spot where the American flag used to be on the uniform.

After passing through the perimeter barricades, he started making his way through the outer parts of the city that had been abadoned, and where most of the current NYC population was, as US forces fought a running battle for their lives as they tried to escape, and the mass of civilians tried to make their way to the rural areas where there was food.

Looking up at the sun to get a rough idea of the time and his bearings, Jake set off towards the north again, hoping to escape the urban confines and find the relative safety of the wilderness.

OOC: BTW, this is a modern tech, realistic RP, as in though your characters may be from your NS nations, you can't actually involve those nations. Also, all the countries in the world are going through this, not just the US and Canada, as the whole world is more or less dependent on oil, and alternative sources can only do so much (read the site, http://www.lifeaftertheoilcrash.com to get an idea of whats going on)

Ben was driving back to base, with his sister safely delivered. He showed his ID to the guard.
"Hope you like this trip, sir." the Guard stated.
"Thank you Corpral. I hope you enjoy your bed this next few months."
Ben drove on and reached the Briefing Room. The General welcomed him and said, "Ben, we need your services again. We shall give you anything you need, save a few nukes."
"Thank you General. What's the mission?"
"You are to protect Canadian and American oil assets from rioters and protestors."
"Ok, I need four good men, some rifles, an M312, a guaranteed extract, and the best armor you've got."

"I'll have it within 24 hours."
"Aye Aye General."

Jake crouched low in the ditch and took a sip of water as he looked about. The area outside the city seemed fairly empty, but the sporadic sounds of gunfire in the distance told him to be careful, and so he was. After he had rested for a few minutes, he picked up his rifle and cautiously made his way out of the ditch and into the light woods nearby. He made his way north, using the sun, and when it was dark, the stars, to guide him.

Unfortunately, the gunfire Jake heard seemed to be coming from the north. After a few minutes of walking, he could see part of the highway and saw what the source of gunfire had been. There was a group of fuel trucks, with one of them appearing to have broken down. A mix-matched collection of humvees and civilian hybrid cars surrounded it. There was about a dozen bodies of US infantryman, and about two dozen civilian bodies. A few more shots rang out from the woods as a few more civilians carrying bolt action and semi automatic rifles tried to overrun the marines.

The civilians were mostly likely from New York, and wanted vengeance for the attempted starvation of the city. Jake looked at the marines, only a few of which were unijured and hadn't yet run off, and then looked at the civilians, deciding who would be best to help.

He raised his rifle, but his finger on the grenade trigger, and fired. The 40mm grenade landed beside one of the attacking civilians and they were cut down instantly. He ran out of his cover and emptied his magazine into the surprised civilians, who hadn't been expecting an attack from that angle.

Three of them went down and the others turned to fire at Jake when the marines rushed out in an all out attack. Bullets ripped through air and flesh as the last handful of civilians tried to flee.

Several of the civilians were wounded, lieing on the ground and calling for help. The marine commander walked to each of these and shot them with his pistol, ending their pain, and ensuring that none of his marines, out of sympathy, wasted supplies on them.

Jake started picking through the bodies for useful gear when the marine commander, a lieutenant by the markings on his uniform, came up to him. Jake threw him a half assed salute, not by choice, but more because after so many hours of trekking through the woods, and that last spur of energy he used in the fight, had exhausted him.

"Who the hell are you?" the lieutenant asked, eyeing Jake's homemade Canada flag on his arm.

"Master Corporal Jake Thomson, of the Canadian Armed Forces, taken prisoner at the battle of Montreal, and released when New York collapsed. I had a hell of a time getting out of the city, as the civilians were attacking anyone in a uniform on sight. I'm trying to make my way back to Canada, there's some good farmland up there, figure on trying to setup a field to sustain myself, or better yet, find some community thats already setup to survive this" Jake replied.

"Well, thanks for the help, though we didn't need it. I hate to break it to you, but there is no Canadian Armed Forces, and in a few months, I doubt there'll be a marine corps or army either. We were supposed to protect these fuel trucks, but the drivers ran off. I'm figuring on taking the working ones and getting to our base. We could use a good rifle, if your up for it" the captain said.

"What direction is the base?" Jake asked.

"Up Northwest a bit, about 40 miles away" the captain replied.

"Well, count me in then" Jake said as he finished stocking up on ammo and slung the dead civilian's garand over his shoulder, though he didn't want the extra weight, he only had a few shots, and it did have better power at longer ranges, and now that he had a ride, it didn't matter so much.

The wounded marines were loaded into the two humvees, the hybrids were left as there weren't enough people to drive them. The three fuel trucks still working were turned on, and Jake hopped into a humvee, grabbing the fifty cal as he was the only uninjured person excluding the driver. The convoy then set off towards the base.

Ben walked onto the tarmac, geared up and fully armed. He got on the plane where he met his team. There were four of them, Cpl. Kowalski, SSgt. Mills, TSgt. Koker, and Pvt. Doahr (pronounced like door). They had all chosen their weapons. Koker had the M-312 (machine gun that is capable of shooting 20mm airburst grenades) and a CMSP 40 pistol (40 cal, caseless). Doahr had an OICW and an M1911. Mills chose a Barretts M82 and a Micro-Uzi. Kowalski chose to go light with a M-14 and dual Glock 22s (40 caliber). Ben had chosen to go with a M-249 with a scope, a Thompson submachine gun, and no pistol. They were loaded into the plane with some supplies and were flown towards the convoy that Jake Thomson was in.

The load master said, "Stand up!...Hook up!...Stand in the door!"

"Loadmaster. Preparing to drop some supplies and five advisors."

"Roger. Load master, green light! Hit the convoy!"

At that, the load master screamed, "GO! GO! GO! GO! GO!" All five men jumped and and the supplies were dropped. The supplies consisted of all types of ammo , fuel, and medical supplies.

The convoy of fuel trucks and humvees approached the ragtag military base as dusk settled. A plane was lifting off and Jake was amazed that anyone would be wasting more precious fossil fuels on a cargoplane. One of the wounded in the humvee Jake had been riding was dead, so Jake took the liberty of removing his tactical vest and packing in the extra ammo into whatever spot he could find on his gear and bags.

He stepped out of the humvee as it came to stop and followed the captain and the rest of the unit as they made their report. The base's commander looked over Jack, scrutinizing him before nodding his approval and telling him he could replenish his food and water supplies from the base stores.

Jake wandered off and was replenishing his supplies when gunfire erupted from the base perimeter. An alarm sounded and he saw the troops that the base had remaining rushing to grab there weapons and defend the base. He noticed that for such as sizeable base, there were few people, probably due to the fact that many had been wounded, killed, ordered out on missions, were lost and wandering, or had simply deserted.

Jake grabbed a pair of extra packs and threw what gear and other supplies he could into them before rushing over to where the humvees had parked. There was a gas pump and the four fuel trucks that Jake had helped escort, plus several others that were already there, were lined up. Dozens of gas cans had also been stocked up, and Jake figure there were additional tanks scattered across the base.

Jake looked in the direction where the bulk of the fighting was taking place. A pair of tanks had breached the perimeter and were unloading cannon and machine gun fire into the base, but the base's own handful of active tanks were engaging them. Soldiers, who Jake figured to be a rogue contingent, were attacking, and Jake spotted one humvee heading in his direction.

Among the gear Jake had grabbed in haste were a bunch of claymores and a pair of rocket launchers. He would have liked to save the anti-tank weapons, but now wasn't the time to debate. He quickly grabbed one, armed it, pointed, and fired.

The rocket slammed into the front right part of the vehicle and the explosion ripped apart most of the engine and the front seats as it flipped through the air.

Jake dropped the useless launcher and threw his bags into the humvee beside the pump. A trio of soldiers, a sniper, machine gunner, and riflemen were running towards him. One of the rogue vehicles, before succumbing to a cannon blast, fired off its gun at an army tank, missed, and hit the fuel station that the army vehicle was guarding. The station went up in a massive fireball, killing everyone around it and Jake had a flashback of the final battle three years earlier, and the nuking of Montreal.

Jake looked at the three soldiers that had just run by, he switched his rifle to full auto, and fired, mowing down the sniper and machine gunner. He dropped the rifle and drew one of his pistols as the riflemen turned around, and Jake snapped off six shots in rapid succession. The riflemen fell gurgling, clutching his throat.

Jake threw the sniper and machine gunner's body in the vehicle, while grabbing the tactical vest that the riflemen had been wearing. Jake also stuffed as many fuel cans as he could into the back of the humvee and he set up a claymore with a remote detonator onto one of the fuel trucks.

He turned the humvee on and started driving when the soldier he had ridden with on the way to the base waved at him. The humvee came to a skidding stop as Jake poked his head out the window and snapped, "make it quick".

"You got to help me, I don't want to die here..." he started going on.

"Congratulations then, you've been conscripted into the Canadian Army, now hop the f*** in" Jake snapped as he pointed at the rooftop fifty cal.

The soldier, whose name was Kevin, hopped in and grabbed the machine gun as Jake floored it towards the battle. The captain from the fuel truck convoy spotted Jake and Kevin and motioned for them to go to him, Jake continued his course towards.

The captain started barking orders and a handful of soldiers turned their guns towards the humvee, bullets bounced off the vehicle's armour as the fifty cal roared to life and three of the attackers were mowed down. Jake could see the front end of the barrel swivel to face the rogues as Kevin fired on them to help cover the escape as the vehicle booked it through the two opposing sides and out to freedom.

Once on the main road and a safe distance away, Jake stopped. He discarded the bodies of the machine gunner and sniper, but stowed their gear in the vehicle and then went on northwards, while telling Kevin about the rumours Jake had heard considering someplace called Polaris.

As Jake neared the border he found utter ruin, it seemed the paths north here were savaged by years of war and the ensuing civil strife. They had been attacked by several bandits, and both he and Kevin decided to head towards Detroit, figuring on picking up some more fuel supplies there and then crossing the border since Jake knew of the wasteland much of the border had become.

The five commandos had followed Jake and SSgt. Mills even went so far as to kill an enemy soldier with his Barretts. That 250 yard headshot had decapitated the guy. The five commandos had also jumped in the back of the vehicle with Jake, while Koker and Ben were covering their retreat with MG fire, killing ten men on the way back.

Ben went to Jake when they reached the base and said, "You know, my planes are going to come back every eight days and drop us some fuel, medical supplies, and ammo. They'll track me using radioactive tracers in my blood. Marines care for their own."

Jack Baker awoke that morning and knew something was different. He realized what it was about ten minutes after he had awaken. It was too quiet. His best friend, Matt Goerl, wasn't playing the all-clear music, or the warning horn. The slavers had come and taken him in the night. That was an entirely new development. Normally they came by day and would only stay a few hours, but if they came while he was asleep... He had to get out of there, now.

He loaded up his backpack with what food he had, and a number of extra clips for his M16. He then carefully opened his door and peered out. He headed down the street in the early morning light, headed toward the suburbs. As he moved, he planned what he would do. He knew that there wouldn't be much food left in teh city, so he decided that he would have to rob the wealthy for supplies. He did not know where he would go, but anywhere had to be better than here. Perhaps he would become a hired gun, but he really wanted to go into the wilderness and dissappear.

Michigan Life after the War
Michigan was ravaged by the fighting between the US and Canada. It was strategically important because control of the Great Lakes came with it. About a third of the population died. Most of those that remain are divided into three groups: The wealthy and their private armies. Slavers who get slaves to provide food, and slaves. Because it is a peninsula, Michigan has managed to keep mostly apart from the rest of the destruction caused by the Fall (the civil wars that followed the US-Canada war). It has a certain degree of freedom from what remains of the government, as it is almost entirely self-sufficient. The wealthy want it to remain that way- apart from the rest of the world.

OOC: Uh, Crazed Marines, where exactly do you join Jake? Cuz right now they arent at any base, they're on their way towards Detroit

OOC: We paradropped near where you were. We *thought* it was a base. Turned out to be satellite photos of some rubble. I thought it was a base. I'll edit, just some screwey times. I had a few major projects due and was posting on the fly.

Bump

OOC: Sorry I took so long in posting

IC:

Jake looked at Ben and thought on what he said about fuel and ammo, "Well, I'm sure marines do take care of each other, but when fuel starts running low, I'm sure whoever is still in the military will have better things to do with it then help keep a handful of commandos supplied."

"Trust me, the General in charge is my girlfriend's dad." Ben said, "Plus, we don't need fossil fuels as much since we installed miniature nuclear power plants on almost all vehicles. We had a surplus of Uranium one year. We'll get them." Ben stated. He saw someone coming up from the side and put a pistol between the guy's eyes. The soldier was obviously freaked.
"Oh. Sorry." Ben said, "Couldn't see who you were Kowalski. What's our SitRep?"

"Pretty good Sarge. We're a little low on ammo for the MGs, but everything else is fine." Cpl. Kowalski said.

"Alright. Have everyone attach the ACOG scopes and use those as much as possible. That should help." Ben finished.

"Yes Sir....DON (Mills) ! Get everyone to mount hte ACOGs for Ben, would ya?"

"Sure Joe (Kowalski) !"

OOC: Uh, Marines, the humvee is supposed to be gas, thats why Jake grabbed so much fuel back at the base, unless you have your own humvee with you...

IC:

Jake nodded thoughtfully at what Ben said and then double checked his rifle to make sure everything was good to go. "Well then, I'm headed up to Canada to look for Polaris, be an honour to have you join us, but we're going to have to go through Detroit...Kevin, what news have you heard about the place?" Jake asked as he looked over at Kevin.

"Not much, turned pretty much a shithole, heard rumours about some rich folk amassing private militias and slavery. Army was to damn understrength and stretched thin holding onto rural areas and fossi fuel supplies to do anything about it though, but I'm sure we'll manage to get through just fine..." Kevin said.

"Did you say slavery? I don't about you peeps but I sure as hell don't feel right standing here while some fat rich a**hole whips some innocent people into doing whatever he wants, that's just not right, no matter what" Jake said with an edge of anger in his voice as he turned to Ben for a response.

OOC: Yeah, they drove up in ATVs with some gas of their own.
IC:
Ben looked angry, as a Southerner he abhorred slavery. His simple response, "Slavery, heh...Now I feel like a Yankee...but let's kill the slavers."

OOC: Yes, the rest of the world desperately wants Canada and all of its trees :P

mini-HIJACK

OOC: I guess I should post in this again, eh? Just so you don't forget about me.
IC
Baker (I can't keep their first names straight anymore...) continued onward, headed northwest to get out of Detroit, following Woodward through the empty suburbs towards the beckoning wilderness, when he noticed a fire up ahead of him. As he approached, he realized that it was a slaver camp. He knew from rumor that the Slavers would stay near their employers, fighting eachother for commisions. Commisions meant food (and for some drugs). He knew that a good shot was more important than a dozen of the meatheads who formed the core of the slaver clans. So he unlsung his rifle and took careful aim before putting a single round between the eyes of the sentry. He then moved up and looked into the camp, using the scope from his hunting on his M16. He identified the man who appeared to be in charge, and but two shots into the cement wall that he was sitting against, one on eithre side of his head.

Within a few minutes Baker had been taken in as a part of a small time slaving gang.