NationStates Jolt Archive

"Command, this is Base Hellion. We have three unknowns on an oh-six-six heading. Advise, over."

"Hellion, this is Command. What are your assets, over?"

"Command, we have presently in possession of two suits of powered armour, six plasma rifles, but only have eighteen rounds of ammo. Plasma turret was disabled two days ago. Total military personnel number eighty-six. Armaments range from sunmachineguns to aforementioned plasma rifles. We have no heavy weaponry or vehicles. Radar is showing unknowns coming at supersonic speed. Orders, Command?"

"Hellion, hold your ground. Try and take those birds out. You're the last line of defense before the Raytaka fuellines."

"Sweet Jesus... I mean, acknowledged, Command. Over and out."

The base swept into action. The man operating the radio dropped it on the table in despair, and raised a hand.

"Jones, Anton, get in those power-armour suits. Everyone else, get on what you can. There's a captured set of Order power-armour, I'll be using that. It's not a patch on ours, but it's all we have. Everyone else, suit up in combat gear, and get the heaviest gun you can find. This base is designed to be able to take almost any non-nuclear bombardment, so we'll sit tight if they bombard us. Chances are they'll try and take us. The Remnant aren't stupid enough to down a valuable base like this one."

The speaker turned, and twisted a few pins, opening the casing of a mighty set of power armour.

"Damn. Doesn't have a fusion cell. Someone hand me one of those plasma fusion cells."

"That won't last more'n a few minutes, Sarge."

The sergeant laughed.

"Way things have been going down this front the last few weeks, we won't have more than a few minutes. Now hand it over."

A fusion cell was tossed through the air, and the sergeant screwed it in. The suit flickered to life, glowing red eyes giving it a delightfully evil appearance.

The radar went dead as he hopped in. Planes screamed in above the base, dropping power-armoured soldiers as they went. One of these had the poor fortune to land on the radar, but his inertics kicked in before he was ground to a pulp.

The door blew open, and pitch-black armour stormed in.

The sergeant raised his plasma rifle, blowing off the head of one man, disabling another, and shooting a rifle out of the hands of a third before he was downed. The others did not last long. Those without armour were summarily executed, those with it were brought down by superior firepower. The battle, all-in-all, had lasted perhaps two minutes.

"Base Hellion, come in. Repeat, Base Hellion, come in."

One of the figures strode over to the radio, and looked down at it. He shook his head, and crushed it with a single gauntleted fist. He surveyed the room. No survivors.

"Knight Ramasais. Secure the base. Paladin Loush, set up patrols and secure supplies. This base will be the Technological Union's main assault route on the Republic's refineries. Hence, if it is retaken, this entire operation will be a failure. Knight Elegnar. I want sixteen handpicked men to attack the flight centre north of here, and another eight running raids on known caravan supply routes. Casualties?"

"Six, sir. Two dead, one maimed. Two are merely wounded, and one's knightly armour has been disabled. We'll send in for reinforcements as soon as our supply line is secure."

"Good."

In the sky above, planes turned and left, harbingers of doom allowing those few left in the north to live another day. This had not been a turning-point, or even a memorable moment. The planet was merely one step closer to falling under the sway of the Technological Union.

The jeep growled as it climbed over the top of the hill, engine almost sputtering on the last leg of its journey. But it had been worth it. Oh, so very worth it.

Below them lay the fertile lands, the valley that was the home of the Republic. Greenery, lush, verdant crops spread across a land that did not seem real before the naked eye. Light shimmered off the lakes below, making it seem as though the whole scene were an ephemeral illusion that would disappear if one tried to touch it.

The jeep growled once more, kicked, and the engine died.

"Aw, hell. And we're so close, too. Jemmy, can you get out and look at that damn motor?"

"Probably the cell, mama. Shouldn't have gotten us this far. I'll look, but.."

"Please, Jemmy. I wanna sell this engine so we can buy us some putniks. Make a farm of our own. We didn't come all the way from Oldtown just to have to work as servants here, too."

'Jemmy' was a pretty young girl, wearing sackcloth and patches of cotton woven together into some semblance of a garment, and her mother was wearing an old gingham dress. A man sat in the back, his head lolled back. He looked to be sleeping, and there was a gun in his hands.

"Fine, mama. We can probably restore it one more time if we use some water to refill the used part. I wouldn't bet on it, though."

She vaulted out of the car, and opened up the hood, frowning as she looked at the engine.

"Looks like the cell's blown out. I'll..."

A scream cut off her words. Behind the car stood a giant sheathed in metal, a gun as long as Jemmy was tall cradled lovingly in his arms.

"Stand up. Come out from behind there."

Jemmy stood, shaking.

The giant looked down at her, the helm hiding any emotion that might have been on his face. As he did so, a group of men came over the hill, armoured only in a blue-green polymer.

"Kill the older ones. Take the girl."

"Mama!"

"Je-"

A sizzling blast of plasma ripped through the car, throwing it down the hill, molten metal spilling out like water.

Two men ran to her sides, and grabbed her arms.

"Relax her."

One jabbed a needle into her side, and she knew no more.


Down in the valley, a plume of smoke rose, quickly followed by another - and another. The illusion was shattered. Paradise could be burnt just as easily as the rest of the world.

She awoke in a cell. It was dark. No more dirty than she was used to. As her eyes opened, a light flickered on.

"Greetings. I am Avsh-Zee-Nine, automated Warden. Are you hungry?"

"Where am I?"

"I am not authorized to answer that question. Are you thirsty?"

"What happened to me?"

"I am not authorized to answer that question. Are you hungry?"

She nodded.

"Food is served at 0600. Water is served at 0800 and 2000."

"What is the time?"

"I am not authorized to answer that question."

She put her hands in her face. The cell was dirty and grey, but the walls showed a remnant of white - this had been somewhere pristine, once. The door was a mesh of interlocking bars, with a single sign on the door, marked with a skull. There was no bed, no amenities - not even a bucket.

"Where do I go to the toilet?"

"The Prison-Tek Cellmate is designed to recycle all waste into usable material for a prison. The Cellmate is usable at any time, provided it is not abused."

"Where is my.. cellmate?"

"Cell Wodn-Ex-Nine has abused its Cellmate privileges. The cell is self-cleaning, but humiliation serves a valuable purpose in re-educating prisoners in the proper use of the Cellmate."

She looked down at the floor, and wrinkled her nose. Obviously, her cell was not self-cleaning.

As she sat, contemplating her situation, the door beeped. A red light slowly faded to life, and the mesh clicked out of place, sliding into the walls. That was interesting. A man looked in at her from the door.

"What is your name?"

"Why should I tell you?"

His eyebrows flickered upwards in surprise, and he smiled.

"Because you are marked as a wasteland mutant. Genetics have determined that eighty-seven percent of wastelanders do not fall within one standard deviation of acceptance. One standard deviation is the minimum for survival. Two, if your skills are particularly useful. Hence, I will gather information about you. If you co-operate, it will go better for you."

"And if I don't?"

He smiled, in a kindly, fatherly way.

"Then I will throw you to my men to abuse as they will, and when your shivering, naked, screaming half-dead little body is dragged back in here, I will ask again."

She spat in his face.

He wiped it off.

"Defiance is unwise. Then again, while we Paladin can restrain ourselves, our Knights and Sentinels need a little... release, now and again."

The door's bars interlocked once more, and she was shut in the cell. She wondered what she had done. Perhaps she had been a fool. She looked down at her hands. They were shivering.

It hurt.

It hurt, inside and out. Every part of her hurt, and her face was a swollen mass of bruises. That had saved her, at the end. Nobody wanted a beaten girl like that. Not when there were so many more from the Republic yet to be despoiled.

She couldn't even move her hands. She felt broken bones throughout her arms and legs. She didn't cry, though. For what it was worth, her head remained high. Her back was kept upright by the nearby wall, and while her face was glistening with blood, it was only blood.

She tried to shut out the screams from the outside.

She couldn't.

Footsteps approached her door, and left again. Hours passed, and the pain did not subside. Finally, the door was opened.

"Hello, my dear. Perhaps you will be willing to listen to me this time?"

"Y-yes. I will."

"Ah, good. I'm utterly delighted."

He held out a single hypodermic needle filled with an odd grey swirl.

"What's that? Don't-don't-"

"My poor girl! Don't be worried in the slightest. It's just a combat stimulant mixed with bone-repair nanites. You'll be better by morning."

"Why?"

He laughed.

"The Technological Union seeks only the best for its citizens. Naturally, only the best are capable of becoming citizens. The purest. You, my dear, are quite defiant. Your spirit is unlike any of our other prisoners. Either you will join us, or you will be broken and killed. I would enjoy either."

She looked up at him, hatred burning in her eyes.

"You see! You're adorable. Now, come."

He waved a hand, and let her step in front of him. He took her out of the corridor, and into a brightly lit room, with tables, machines, and two armed guards.

"You see? If only you'd co-operated."

One of the guards stifled a laugh.

She looked at him, curiously.

"Don't worry, miss. It'll all be over soon, one way or another."

Have you ever been a god?

She flicked her head, looking for the voice.

"My dear? Whatever is the matter?"

No, it hadn't been him. And the guards hadn't heard it, either. What was it?

"Now, we'll just take a blood sample..."

A hypodermic needle hit a vein, stimulants going in, and then blood coming out in one oddly hypnotic motion.

"And we'll put it in this machine.."

You are going to die.

The machine blinked green, and then red. It stopped for a moment, and blinked red again.

"Oh, my. That's not good. Not good at all."

They will kill you. But that must not be the end.

"I'm sorry, my dear. Your DNA is a little too off-ordinary. We could probably administer a dose of DMV, but that has an almost 100% casualty rate. Still, do you want to give it a shot?"

It does not have to be the end. I can change it. I can let you change it.

"What is.. DMV?"

"It's a de-mutation virus. Restores a lot of genes to human normal. Of course, it's a very clever virus, and has to restore genes to fit in with the rest of your genetic pattern. Most of the time it misses, and you die an agonizing death. Nevertheless, about point-five percent of people survive and are rehabilitated into normal society."

"Well.."

Everyone you ever knew is dead. You do not have to follow them into the night. Be a god. Join us.

"A god?"

"What?"

"Yes.. yes. I will."

The paladin smiled.

"Good. So many refuse, afraid of a little pain. But what is pain if not achieve-?"

The roar of artillery fire blocked out his words, and the wall was flung open, rubble crashing into the two soldiers. Miraculously, the girl was unharmed.

"Take her. She's got potential."

"Goddamn it, Walther! Attacking a fucking Union waystation? What's gotten into you?"

"You felt that ping. It was her. I know it was her. It's not as if we stand much of a chance as is, in any case."

"Fine. Let's take her and leave."

One of them tucked her under one arm, took one last look at the demolished lab, and started to run.

"Have you ever wondered why the world's like this? Why radiation and sickness plague us, why mutations abound on a world that was apparently once a paradise?"

Jemmy looked up at Walther, listening intently. It had only been a day since her rescue. She did not know who they were yet - and Walther's companion had not spoken a word since.

"No. Why?"

"Did you ever think it might well have been vengeful gods taking their revenge on an unrepentant humanity? That the gods had prophets, who had come before, and who were not listened to? That these prophets were entrusted with the remainder of the world after the gods took their dues?"

"It.. stories had said that. Before."

"It's not true."

"Why do I need to know? Who are you? Why..?"

"All will be answered in time. Know that the wasteland is not the world forever. We are but a phase in history, unalterable except through time."

"I just came from Kaneda. We ran because of the raiders. I don't..."

"Fine. Let us begin, as is fitting, from the beginning. See a world, a paradise of blue and green spinning in the void. Imagine delights such as you will never see, imagine lakes and plants, imagine cities built, spires reaching for the sky. Yet greed gnaws at the hearts of men. Yet jealousy is born in the stars. Fifty years ago, the world was remade into horror. Fire rained from the sky, and only a scarce few survived. Where once were millions, there are now thousands."

"Why did you take me?"

"There will be time for that later. The world was reduced to ash, and the survivors eked out a miserable existence on the surface. It is the presumption of man that he is in control of his own fate. It is not true."

She looked up at him, confused.

"We did not destroy our own world. There were... others. What do you know of the forces you have seen?"

"The Republic?"

"The Valley-Haven Republic, consisting of ninety-two percent of the continental population. A democratically elected government consisting of the majority of the survivors. Next is the Technocratic Union. They are a little closer to the truth. They seek technology and "pure" humanity in order to be as strong as possible. While they do not know the truth, they instinctively seek power to protect themselves. I am a Prophet."

"A prophet?"

"We are the Prophetei. Fifty years ago, the end of the world was foreseen. We gathered into a great city under a mountain, and there we existed for ten years until it was safe to come out. There are not enough of us left to defend the world as is necessary."

Jemmy looked at him, thoughts racing through her head. She desperately processed them, unable to speak as she did.

"So. Do you wish to know the truth? Or do you wish to return to your old life as best you can?"

"T-the truth."

"Once we were destroyed. This was not, as some Prophetei had thought, a test. It was an act of mercy. Those who died are spared what is to come."

"What is to come?"

Walter bared his teeth in mockery of a grin.

"Are you prepared to die?"

A gun whipped up and spat molten death at her, she dodged, unnaturally aware of where the bullets were going to be.

A hand was raised in the air. Surrender.

They walked towards her, pointing their guns at her threateningly. The index finger circled - they both looked at it a moment. She smiled, lowered her hands, and spoke.

"Gentlemen. It was foolish of you to shoot at me. Foolish of you to be here, in fact. But let bygones be bygones, can we not?"

"What the fuck-"

"You're all dead anyway."

One screamed, and tore at his eyes. The other looked at him, and raised his gun to shoot her. Before he could pull the trigger, a knife impaled itself in his left eye.

"Oops."

She placed two hands gently about his head, and snapped his neck. With the guards dead, she walked onward.

It had been two weeks since she had been told to return to the Home of the Prophetei, that single, lingering message that had seared itself into her brain ever since she had heard it. That plea for help.

Two years since she had been inducted into the Prophetei, sent to find ancient artefacts, sky-watchers. Devices capable of seeing far into the invisible spectra of radiation, for what purposes she did not entirely know.

She had found almost all of them. The last thing she had captured was a stabilization unit, needed to ensure perfectly accurate readings of the skies. A day after she had obtained it, a message had come through on her radio. A desperate plea for her to return, as quickly as she could. For something terrible was coming. They didn't tell her what. Or what she could do. Just to return, for that was all they knew to ask her.

And here she was, outside the gates of the Home. Raiders had settled at the base. In two weeks? Preposterous. They could not have made it within ten klicks without being shot down. Yet here they were, guarding a small encampment.

She looked up at the mountain. There was only one way in, through the main door. Six-point-three feet of reinforced titanium, almost five hundred feet into the mountain. Capable of withstanding damn near anything. Openable only from the inside...

If nobody was there, it would have been in vain. Returning. The past two years work...

She shuddered. Had she been rescued only to have lost her purpose once more? She pressed her hands tightly together in silent prayer, and stepped into the tunnel.