Near Warsaw, Poland
Despite the use of terraformers to remove radiation and pollution left over from WW3, Poland still showed scars of WW3. Much of the ground was still held huge blacked craters from Russian bombing campaigns, and most of Warsaw itself was nothing but a huge crater. A sleek, black, military transport with the Special Forces logo branded on it’s side moved quickly over the destroyed landscape, heading for Warsaw. It’s engines were pointed downwards, and glew blue with the burn of negative energy to produce the anti-gravity lift moving the ship.
Inside of the transport five men lay, wearing power armour and observing the landscape, and all with various cybernetics. One sat in a small gun turret that hung below the craft, scanning the ground for any sign of attackers.
“Mind explaining the mission now that you have dragged us half-way across Europe Sarge?” said one of the soldiers. Unlike most of the men he still looked relatively young, his blond hair and green eyes shining in the light of the transport’s sole bulb.
“Simple and easy, command suspects that a small terrorist group might be hiding out in the Warsaw ruins. They are anti-trans humanism, so this should be relatively easy mission. “ responded the Sarge.
“Why hide out near Warsaw though? Their isn’t much near Poland anymore, not even any sky-cities.” said an older soldier, whose face showed that he had gone through many battles.
“Yeah, and that’s what command is hoping we can find out. They suspect that the reason there hiding out here is their trying to cook up some big and they needed to be away from our prying eyes. Not like it helped them in the end.” grinned the Sarge.
“Lets kick some terrorist ass then!” shouted the soldier manning the gun, his head hidden by a helmet.
The soldiers geared up and shared a battle-cry as they looked down towards the ground, the doors of the transport opening up.
“Command wants us in quietly initially till we find the exact location of the terrorist base, and then we can call in our transport here for a little air support. You're staying in that gun, me and the rest of the squad will deploy in.” commented the Sarge, grabbing a strange black pack that glew slightly blue. The other soldiers also grabbed similar packs as the soldier in the gun saluted the Sarge as a form of acknowledgement.
The all jumped out of the transport together, falling rapidly towards the ruin of Warsaw. The packs which they attached seem to have no visible parachute, or any other method of preventing them from becoming nothing but red splatters when they hit the ground. However as they got close to the ground, the packs activated for a brief moment, producing a wave of anti-gravity that slowed them down a lot. As they touched down kinetic absorbers in their armour absorbed the rest of the force from touching down. The Sarge made a silent hand motion to move forward as the squad put on their helmets and drew out their weapons. The transport hovered in the distance, awaiting a signal to come in.
As the squad moved through the Warsaw ruins, not much was left. What little had been left after the nuke detonated over it had been eroded by years of exposure to the elements. The only signs that human life had ever existed here was burned out rusted cars, rotting woods, and small chucks of worn concrete. The soldiers merely took in what they saw in silence, thinking that was they saw was only a small amount of horror that occurred in WW3.
After a while the Sarge paused the squad. Sitting before them was a small metal trap door, but unlike the scraps of metal that littered Warsaw, it was not rusted, it almost appeared new. The Sarge spoke, the sound of a radio beeping on.
“We got eyes on the terrorist hideout, move in for fire support and evac.” stated the Sarge to the transport craft through his radio. He plopped open the trapdoor, revealing a semi-dark tunnel leading into the ground, strings of green-lights providing a little illumination to guide someone down. The Sarge moved in first, the rest of the soldiers following behind him.
Upon reaching the bottom, they found themselves in what appeared to be a old concrete bunker. Blinding white bulbs hung from the ceiling to provide the base with illumination. A few doors appeared to have been welded shut recently, the smell of burning metal still hanging in the air.
The Sarge and the team proceeded further into the tunnel, however as they did not much appeared to be left. It seemed as if anything important had been moved out. However they paused, a table having been left. On it stood various tools and implements used for cybernetic modification, in addition to a small amount of crude implants.
“Command did say these were anti-transhumanist terrorists, right?” questioned one of the soldiers. The Sarge merely ordered him to take pictures as well as collect it as evidence. As the soldiers finished they turned to see a elegantly dressed man, who appeared to be of mixed Irish and Scottish heritage
“Greetings Gentlemen, what do your masters wish of my revolution?” asked the man, in a voice that could only belong to a man whose mind had devolved into pure unbridled insanity.
“Who the hell are you?” responded the Sarge, as the squad immediately raised their weapons towards men.
“Now now now, that is not very civilized! However as for my name you may refer to me as simply Fergus.” fretted Fergus, backing away from the squad slightly
“Do not move.” threatened Sarge.
“Deary me! Shall you continue to be uncivilized brutes?” inquired Fergus, a slight smile growing across his face.
“What the hell is going on here? You are supposed to be anti-transhumanists!” accused the Sarge, raising his gun more and slowly approaching Fergus.
Fergus began a mad chuckle, it’s tone and noise enacting a psychological terror like no other on the soldiers before him.
“So that is the lie my brother decided upon! Oh well I do not have time for you, I have a revolution to plan. I must leave you unfortunately.” jeered Fergus, his originally happy elegant tone falling into a deadly serious tone. Before the Sarge could respond Fergus pulled out a small trigger, activating it. A large explosion echoed across the tunnel as Fergus ran off in the opposite direction, leaving only a wall of rubble for the soldiers to deal with. Sarge picked himself up off the ground, motioning for the squad to leave.
When the reached the surface, the engines of the transport craft already roaring to life.
“Contact command, tell them the mission was a failure, and that there is a lot more to this then some anti-transhumanists.” said the Sarge, boarding the craft with the rest of his soldiers and leaving the Warsaw ruins off in the distance.
Berlin, Germany
Not much had changed about the long-standing German City, it’s missile defense systems having left it intact from the Chinese nukes after WW3. However many of the street-signs had been updated to be bilingual, with both German and English words. Modern technology had also updated the city, most vehicles being powered by anti-gravity, and other signs of the advanced technology of the Federation.
However within Berlin a large building had been constructed, known merely as the Capital. This large-grand structure rose well above Berlin, it’s top point allowing one to see a few of the floating cities that had been built. It served as the meeting place for Parliament, the President’s office, and the meeting place for the Senate. Inside Robert McClain, perhaps the most well-renowned and successful President in the Federation’s history, paced his office. His normally well kept short brown hair was in a mess, his green eyes frantic. His suit was also slightly wrinkled
“This is not what I expected. I heard reports that we had more than just terrorists on our hands but Fergus? God knows what mess the Federation is about to be in.” thought Robert, sitting down in a large office chair, a sleek metal desk before him. On it lay multiple papers and old paper books, with a small device that acted as a projector for the computer beneath the desk.
“My own brother, once more of a patriot towards the Federation then me, has now turned on it.”
Robert stopped thinking for a minute, his look dropping into one that indicated as if he was listening to someone.
“There is not much we can do Aaliyah. You know what happened to him.” said Robert, to someone, however despite speaking there wasn’t anyone in the room. He dropped once more into a look of listening.
“Perhaps, we will have to see though. I thought when we heard he had disappeared from the hospital it was just one of his bouts of madness, but a revolution? One of his personalities is either playing a rather elaborate joke, or he has gone past the point of no return.” sighed Robert, sinking even further into his chair. He sat up for a minute.
“I suppose we should go see Megan, it has been a while and this is a matter of great importance.” stated Robert to the unknown voice once again, standing up and fixing his hair and suit, and then leaving his office.