NationStates Jolt Archive

There was nothing more to do, nothing more to try, nothing more to hope for. Everything was lost, as the Battle of Spain was at last over after nearly half century of war, as hundreds of millions would be condemned to either death or the annihilation of their very free will. A new dark age was slowly being set into the world, worst than any dark age that ever happened before, a world of tyranny and utmost inhumanity, a world ruled without question by the Global State, a world resumed by the image of a boot stomping an human face, forever.

Such dark future was only hindered by the last stalwart of freedom in the Earth, and in the entire Solar System. The planet was no longer as blue, now having massive craters of glass reminiscent of the Third World War visible from the space, lush forests turned into radioactive wastelands devoid of life, cleaned ever slowly from the radiation by the new would-be world government. All that opposed the destruction of human freedom was the withering Confederation, the very opposite of what the Global State represented, an union under the ideals of anarchism dreaming to once abolish the last government of Earth.

There were no longer dreams, only nightmares. The holographic war board showed the critical situation at hand, as residing safely inside a quickly built bunker, a woman observed the situation at hand. Next to her five men sat, beaten down by years of battle, and now deprived of the right to return to their homes. The virtual image showed as massed forces converged, from everywhere, indicating a situation that was nothing but encirclement. There was no escape, and now the time has come for them to join all of those who were caught before by the enemy. Twenty thousand men and hundreds of armors were ready, to at any moment, against all odds, face the enemies surrounding them. Jetcopter drones hovered in the skies, and artillery flew, as the ground shook and small pebbles felt dangerously close from the ceiling. To wait there was to meet deaths like those of rats, entombed by the explosion of an anti-bunker bomb.

The woman quickly got up from her seat then, one of the few comforts in a place hastily built inside an old cave, observing as more and more enemy forces seemed to converge to their position in the Pyrenees. The room at large was little more than the gallery of a cavern converted into a command center, with the stony rocks of the same still forming the walls and roof, and the paved ground and trims built to reinforce its stability being all that formed any infrastructure there, besides several electronic devices and a wire coming through the roof towards some unknown place. All of those next to her wore dark grey vests, emblazoned with a black and red flag in their shoulders and nothing else, no signs of rank, no medals of honor, putting to notice how they were equal, and how such symbols would be irrelevant in moments like these. In death, it no longer mattered whether one was recognized for his deeds or not, ranks, wealth, prestige, everything would no longer matter. And there was nothing but certain death awaiting them, one way or another, beyond the falsehood of safety those hid caves gave.

Surrender was not an option, for death was preferable to becoming an undead without a mind, a puppet of the government that could be used against their own comrades. They have already chosen on this, to fight to death, with honor, rather than surrendering as cowards, putting the irrelevance of life over liberty. For without freedom, life would be as meaningless as the existence of a machine, and they would be literally cogs in a machine of eternal darkness, without any capability of thinking, with their higher brain functions replaced by the will of the Global State.

Their only choice was on how to die.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXmu-aLu3Mw

The woman simply made her way out of the command center, seemingly in shambles because of psychological rather physical weariness, entering in one of the many hubs of caves where they hid, a cave large enough to house half a dozen of main battle tanks, and several stockpiles of supplies. Other passageways led to emplacements hid, and the noise from artillery fire was as continuous as ever, wearing them down. She knew that their intention was to push them to surrender, or otherwise they could already have detonated such caves with a nuclear warhead. Probably they would give up sooner or later and do it, unless something was first done. Thus, she walked through, with many individuals looking at her amidst machines which handled all the stockpiles, with eyes which reeked on despair, eyes of men who knew their only fate was death.

Walking through a series of passageways, the woman entered into a storeroom. Actually nothing more than another area of the cavern converted. Looking at the many crates around, some as tall as three meters, she looked at a machine nearby, and pulling a small console from her pocket, she spoke some commands as the automated lifter began to operate, removing a pile of supplies from her way, and another, until a sealed crate, wrapped around many padlocks, was revealed. It was a metallic, a meter and half tall crate, which contents were perfectly hidden, and unlike the the others, untagged. Looking at it, the woman then made the robot lift it next to her, as she took some nanite encodings from her keyring and opened one by one, the padlocks keeping it shut. Then the machine pulled its side to her front, as she turned away, revealing the very reason why it was so secure.

It was a tracked vehicle, compact but tall, with a mortar embedded into it, and a projectile tip loaded above, with its metallic frame painted with the nuclear symbol. Smiling, the woman then said to nobody but herself, imagining how they were much worthy in battle than any mindless slave, letting pride overwhelm her mood, as she would finally reach a statistic, an useless statistic, spoken in Comuns, their universal language built over many Western languages of cultures which have shaped their pool of an internationalist ideal and value.

"For each of those that die here, a hundred of them shall die."

It was then that she realized that someone was right behind them, and looking back surprised, she attempted to hide the material, but to no avail. The individual, made anonymous by the power armor he wore, a grey metallic suit donned with the same black flag as a symbol that she wore in her uniform, looked at her with sings of surprise, and then spoke in a somewhat aggressive manner, likely disagreeing with her intentions:

"Comrade Janine, what have you done?"

"Lets teach these fascists a lesson, comrade Ferdinando, the Entropic Legions have brought many with them, and now it's our time to bring a hundredfold of these corpses of the pigs for each of us who dies. The more we drain on their manpower, the more chances we shall have to succeed." she then spoke, looking at the nuclear device next to her, and at the man with some sort of certainty about what she intended to do.

"Janine! The last time someone thought this way, eight billions of human lives were lost. You cannot open this Pandora box again. If we go through this, there might be no mankind anymore to fight for the freedom of." Ferdinando insisted, reminding of the most tragic event of the entire history of mankind, the very event which has turned forests into radioactive wastelands, metropolises in ghost towns, not visited even by the boldest of the Global State, reigning in brutality as deforming and cancer suffering men wailed in insanity in their few moments of life, spreading their sick genes through unspeakable ways, making for the survivors to wish they had died instead in the maelstrom of nuclear fire. And the very event which has turned more than ninety percent of the globe into a fascist totalitarian State. It was understandable the taboo over such weapons, following with the disaster that nearly put the human race to its extinction, however, nothing mattered to Janine, which, recalling Nihilism, then said:

"If our future as a species is to serve as puppets for an immortal tyrant, I would rather that our species join the Dinosaurs in the roster of extinct species than to have such miserable, worthless, vain and stagnated existence, to eventually become the slaves of a sentient alien species gifted with free will, and to serve as nothing but pathetic and worthless cattle for those in power. If that is our only fate other than extinction, I would personally ensure the extinction of our own. However, it is not, as long as we do not let fear and cowardice restrain us to take the necessary means and risks for such."

The man in power armor, simply nodded, and still looking at her, seemed to be thinking on her words. She knew that each unman they killed, that each machine of fascism and tyranny they destroyed, that each ravenous vulture they downed, would buy more time for the Confederation to take its last bid for the survival of free mankind. When the very survival of mankind as a free species depended upon it, she felt no moral or ethical fears, or any remorse to what she intended to do. And thus, the man still silent seemed to still ponder as she continued, also turning on a previously hid device which came off from her hair, reaching next to her mouth as a sort of telescoped communicator. The manner she spoke through it, uninterrupted by the distant noises of bombardments, seemed to be that of a discourse to the freedom fighters of such place, and clearly, her intention of convincing everyone of her point was clear as she, inspiredly said:

"Ferdinando, we shall march in our last assault, we shall cripple their lines and advance to their heart, we shall destroy every inch of everything that surrounds us, and we shall become nothing but glass, however, our names, our histories, our deeds, they shall live forever into the memories of those who will inherit the legacy of our sacrifice, for our small contribution will make a huge difference among many other sacrifices for the cause of true freedom.

We must make difficult choices, and now, I ask for you, and to choose this, for us to die, but to still emerge victorious, to bring another of many crippling defeats we have brought to our enemy, which has extended this war for nearly fifty years against an enemy infinitely superior to ourselves in both industry and manpower. This alone makes of the Confederation the best military of mankind history!

We have fought against so many, and now, in this late June of Twenty-One Twenty, it's time for us to finish our fight by turning our defeat into a Pyrrhic victory for the enemy. We shall flood the Pyrenees into the flames of tactical nuclear weapons, to bath the fascists into the very ashes they arisen from. To prove once again the superiority of free men over drones, of men responsible for their own fates over slaves of the government, and over the government itself, for the progress of our Confederation has proved that where the fallen false democracies of the past failed, we have succeeded, that we are the last hope for not only human freedom, but in the very long term, human survival itself.

Today, the very acts that have brought tyranny, the very nuclear devastation that convinced many the miserable survivors to give up every drop of their freedom for safety, shall be used as a first step, to like the land devastated by the nuclear strike, destroy every inch of the last government of Earth. For this comrades, is our step into many to eventually, eventually, achieve our long hoped dream, our dream of an Earth free from hierarchy, free from distinctions between rich and poor, ruler and ruled, and perhaps even from right and wrong. Thus I ask of you, to approve our glorious battle, as we shall fight to the bitter end, and then, once most of our bodies are cold, our lives gone and our names engraved eternally in the new memorial of the martyrs of freedom, turn these mountains into the graveyard of millions of mindless and soulless damned ones, millions less for those who defend our islands to fight against, at the cost of only twenty thousand of ours. Like the long gone people of these lands we have defended to the end believed, the Answer to everything, to all our concerns, to all our fears, to all of our hopes, lies closer than many of us expected.

The answer to everything, is nothing, and thus, nothingness must become this place! Only entropy can destroy the putrefaction of this world, and thus, we must now start, before our time runs out. For we shall emerge as heroes, no matter what must be done, for we shall guarantee the continued liberty of our people, no matter how millions we must kill, for we shall never, under any circumstances, surrender, no matter how much we must suffer. Thus, I ask for you to say yes to my proposal: Freedom or Death!"

Suddenly information flew through their hidden base. People began to think and decide, forming a myriad of opinions that would eventually turn into a lasting decision. Janine smiled as she saw it, for they have agreed, and now, it was the time, to make their last assault, a bold way to come, through a region of rough terrains, without any air protection, for their lasting fight. Janine herself would open a crate, and take an assault rifle out of it, with a tubular above-loaded magazine of caseless ammunition, filled with many bullets, and with further magazines tucked into her belt, together with a pair of too grenades, shaped like if they could be attached to walls as traps, and preparing its bolt for fire, she then opened another of many crates, where an old, black flag lied with a small handheld pole, and she took it with her, raising the flag as a banner of their cause into such dark times. She then headed back to the gallery. Everyone seemed to look at her by them, their very elected leader, boldly marching towards a certain death, willing to rally them with no fear, to raise their flag over the fields of the enemies. Drivers began to board their tanks, and ahead of them, she continued to march towards the outside of their natural fortress, with many automated emplacements awaiting for the assault that never came, with nothing but a flak vest for her own protection.

Tanks rolled behind her, and the outside, only enlightened by the moon, was becoming closer to them. Further behind, the infamous drone followed them, ready to fire the signal that such place should be neutralized. For once the first explosion happened, the Confederation would see an open order to obliterate the region from above.

Looking at the dark night ahead, and at an rough terrain that went down, Janine simply began to fasten her pace as infantry fighting vehicles, tanks and automated combat drones in their tracks continued to march, and her first step to the unprotected outside would come. It would be a bold, suicidal move, something sufficient to compare such division of the Revolutionary Army with the most nihilistic among the gone Entropic Legions of Nihilant. However, it was propelled by a value, a black flag, representing not darkness, but the lack of rules, of oppression, of values and traditions, and the mourning for all those who died for their cause. Boldly, Janine took the first step to the outside, and at the distant sight of the enemy forces, still kilometers away, and looking at the downhill ahead, she then shouted, with no fear that she could be killed at the moment:

"For the Triumph of the Confederation!"

She simply was moved by pure ideas, no longer letting rational thought or fear drive her, only a nearly fanatical resolve to rally many of them behind. Running carelessly downwards, with her eyes immediately becoming sharp as her biological night vision went on, soon a brigade of many would follow her from one of the exits from their bunker. Armors and vehicles preparing to engage the enemy, into their descent to the relatively plain landscape below. Taking heavy steps through uneven terrain, with her rifle slung on her shoulder, Janine seemed like a warlord at such moment, waving the flag of their victory as soon tanks would outrun her and pass through her sides safely. Soon the skies would lighten then ahead of her eyes, as guided artillery rockets would come. The noises of the anti-air and active defense systems firing rocked through her ears, but her resolve led her to continue in her forced march, soon staying in the middle of the spreading formation with the flag of their cause. They had to arrive at a small elevation first, where they would have a small advantage, and break through quickly, or their flanks would be surrounded. Janine soon realized she would slow down their advance, and then, gesturing to an infantry fighting vehicle next to her amidst the chaos and shells falling onto the ground, she quickly entered inside it as its hatch opened, standing on foot amidst six soldiers.

The soldiers looked at her with admiration for her boldness. It was clear she wanted to die with glory, rather than cowardice, and soon all would have a chance to carve history with the last seconds of their lives. However, taking her pocket computer, Janice noticed as slowly their forces diminished amidst the fire of artillery, and as the enemy jetcopters were slowly advancing. Hails of missiles hissed from nearby, as their very vehicles counter-attacked, and distant lights were seen in the skies from the projection of the outside, and ahead.

People were dying every minute, although the intensity of the initial artillery barrages diminished as their rockets precisely destroyed many of them. Men and women in power armor ran together with armors, able to keep up with their fast advance, and their shoulder mounted rockets fired against ever close threats. Missiles and more missiles enlightened the darkness of the night coming from their Air Defense Anti-Tank systems, and explosions came from the skies as jetcopters fell prey to their assault. Bumps nearly shattered their bones as the ground trembled, and their disturbed ears were continually assailed by the explosions, something close enough to cavitate the wide hull they were inside. Some have stood firmly thanks to the fields of their electromagnetic armors, but many has fallen into cinders, leaving at least a hundred of their soldiers dead, according to what Janine saw. Taking again control over the communicator that seemed to come out of her head, she then said:

"Comrades, we are almost there, prepare to assault! Do not stop under any circumstances, do not look behind. Forward and always, we shall kill as many of them before our decisive moment!"

What would then happen could only be compared to the overwhelming boldness of a banzai charge, albeit one backed up by dozens of tanks and armored vehicles. Janine soon would notice the stop of the vehicle, after minutes under fire, and as the hatch opened, she boldly rallied through the outside, with her eyes suddenly shifting again to her night vision as she turned her way to the same face of the vehicles, with bullets flying all around and the loud thunders of explosions coming very close. Men in power armor were already rallying, covered by the rockets, missiles, gauss cannons and electrothermal-chemical autocannons of their armors, as the skies lightened over and over by the fires and explosions happened just at their sides. Janine continued to run, driven by adrenaline, over the positions of the enemies silenced by their surprise and bold move, for such zombies were very slow to adapt to new situations. And with the flag on her hand, hundreds of soldiers wearing nothing but flak vests rallied to her, some to meet quick deaths as corpses mangled by artillery, ignored by their momentum and courage.

The Last Battle of Bilbao would thus reach its climax as the men were ready to fire the integrated grenade launchers to their rifles, and stopping for a while, with many still marching with bullets in their bodies, with a resolve that only the most fanatical of the soldiers could ever dream of, they aimed an arc, precisely calculated through the enemy lines, and grenades felt over, exploding carcasses and flesh, as they again charged through. Gifted by a night vision, Janine continued to carry on the flag of their cause nonetheless, as bullets flew very close to her head, and as men to her very side died.

Their enemies, dressed like fascist soldiers, in dark grey uniforms which unlike their, had ranks, and had as their symbol the greyed symbol of the prototype for such dark and somber tyranny, which ironically were the United Nations, under their guise of democracy, being nothing but a proto world government, promoted by mysterious interests, which many claimed to be part of a now almost successful global conspiracy to create a world government. Such details mattered little, as like ants, for each of the Revolutionaries downed, ten of them were gone, and their bold infantry and Blackguards in their power armor were accompanied by their armors, always suppressing precisely enemy positions to allow for them to finish them off. Janine risked herself more than any other, and the black flag waved through the night, through the gore and through their way crossed by mutilated corpses of their enemies and of their comrades, by scenes like that of bodies with their intestines exposed, of carbonized cadavers with the unbearable stench of burnt human flesh, ignored by them, as at such moment, they were no longer mere humans, they were the manifestation of an idea worth more than their very lives, and unlike them, ideas could be defeated with military might.

Time seemed less clear, and her adrenalin pumped so fast, that she felt a quick, cracking sound and a very fast flash through her left arm, but even as a bullet penetrated through her flesh, she continued to rally, like if such single wound was far from enough to take her down. From afar, she looked like a man, and in fact, she seemed like one. Women would sacrifice their femininity to support the cause of freedom, and accept male hormones, the removal of their breasts and of some of their sexual organs, particularly those responsible for the periods, as part of a way to make them as effective as men in battle. Such was not an easy decision to make, explaining why they were a minority, albeit a still significant one, in their forces.

Ideas never die, and it seemed like if, by the intervention of something greater force they did not even believe at, amidst such death, the symbol of their victory continued to wave as they approached another hill ahead, and soon, with her pain quickly neutralized by both natural means and implants, Janice looked at the hill base, and at the soldiers retreating that were quickly massacred by them, while the ruins of fallen jetcopters laid in the ground, although almost half of them were downed in the brutality of such battle, and a tenfold of their enemies went down as well. Looking at the hill, Janice then said, as looking at her portable display she realized they were preparing to cut them off from behind, and few minutes were remaining before their certain defeat, ignoring completely the gap a bullet left in her left arm:

"It's time now! Let this be my last march, for now we are in an optimal position, right into the heart of their forces. Let us have our last vision as that of our revolutionary flag waving triumphant over the territory no longer conquered by the fascist scum! Cover me, for I shall now make my way through the very top, and then, carve our symbol for all of them, all of our enemies to see, before we consume them. Hold on your lines, but if you cannot, our victory is more important than such demonstrations of our glorious last stand."

And then, she simply continued to run with the flag, a sight to behold, for even though explosions happened ever close to her, Janice insisted into it, and sweating and breathing heavily, she charged through the top of the hill, step by step, as suddenly bullets began to fly closer and closer to her. She has forfeited her life, their very lives, for they could not live without freedom, and by the time any spaceplane could come down to rescue them, it would be already too late. And thus, with shell falling to her, she suddenly could no longer hear them, as her ears finally blew into deafness. Regardless, she advanced into the unprotected hill, and there were only few meters ahead for such symbolic gesture of their strategic victory even in defeat.

She ran with all the forces that remained, straining her muscles completely as bullets continued to fly over, looking already at the top of the hill in her vision. Then everything blacked out.

Opening her right eye, as she felt a splinter piercing a gap in her other eye, she realized, looking to her left, that only a bloody lump remained where her left arm was, but still, the flag was safely held by her right hand, and an unbearable pain, too strong to be quickly sedated, numbed her senses as every inch of movement seemed to bring her great pain, and blood flew from her mutilated eye. Agonizing of pain, realizing much of her skin was burnt as well, she slowly raised herself from the ground, and in one last word to her comrades, she let the still luckily intact communicator implant go out again, and said:

"We shall never surrender! For the Confederation!"

She dashed in shambles, feeling a pain that would be enough to make even a bodybuilder faint, and bullets flew over her head. She could see with her remaining eye the goal, the apex where their symbol would fly glorious before the doom hour. It was an herculean struggle, and she was very few centimeters from it.

Then she felt something piercing through her torso, and her breath becoming even more difficult as blood came from her throat. Realizing that her death was near, she then, with her last strength, crawled through the last inches to the top, and with her right arm alone, firmly set the black flag of anarchism, the last thing she, and all the still alive soldiers, would see in their lives. She tried to smile but could not, as she felt life passing away, realizing that she has done all that she could, and that her mission was accomplished.

Suddenly she saw a light, and then, she could seed, like in a bird's eye view, her very body on the hill, with its right hand still holding stiffly the pole of the black flag, and then, she saw childhood memories coming back, a troubled childhood of a generation born to witness the destruction of Earth and nearly extinction of humanity, a generation of hope, that could perhaps turn the tide of thousands of years of wars, misery and tyranny, of a generation from where many heroes would come. A Lost Generation, living for the people rather than for their own interests, and strangely, one of the happiest and most self-accomplished generations to ever live. It was in times like these, that not only the worst, but also the best mankind had to offer would surface. Men ready to give away their lives for a free world they would never see, to die painfully in scorched battlefields, to have their bodies turned into glass with no grave but the honor of having their names never forgotten.

And soon, all would consume, as Ferdinando, emotionally touched by the sacrifice and bravery of their elected leader, Janine, who unlike the generals of their enemies, cowards and rats hidden behind the lines, rallied them at the front, suffering and withering, agonizing in pain to put their symbol on the hill, decided to honor her request, and soon, one last light would fire from the arm of a single drone, in a hill, and as it reached the skies, a strong flash would come, and their lives be finished into a nuclear storm. And with them, countless enemy soldiers and armors would be annihilated, in the ultimate gesture of entropy. As then, from the high orbits, more tactical nuclear weapons would land upon the flagged territory, bringing the death of millions of fascist soldiers and hundreds of thousands of fascist armors and airplanes. Such would be the greatest strategic victory of the Confederation since the beginning of the war, although it would not be the first time they have managed to inflict crippling losses over enemies which outnumbered them. Now, two hundred million of their foes have found their graves. And perhaps, such bold last stand of the last remaining division in Spain, perhaps like the now gone Janine Fuentes hoped, it would make the difference between they having or not the time to secure their future in face of a very clear defeat, sooner or later, in this solar system.

Of the entire world, only two islands still had free men, the original islands from where the Confederacy of Third Spanish States, now the Confederation of Third Communes, was born, lands created by them and rightfully theirs, now under siege. The very future of the human race lied in their hands, and thus, perhaps one day in the future, like Churchill, in an Europe surrounded by fascism, has imagined for the now fallen Britain, which still lives as part of the cultural heritage of the Confederation, if their ideal somehow survives beyond the stars and last for thousands of years, men will look back in history and say: this was their finest hour.