2080 Story thread

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2080 Story thread

Post by Alexios Komnenos on 2008-02-13, 09:46

TIMELINE (Some inaccuracies are still present, I believe)

2008 - Election of Obama in the USA

2011 - Withdrawal of US troops from Iraq

2012 - Civil war in South Iraq

2014 - Over 1 million dead in South Iraq

2015 - Iran invades South Iraq

2016 - War between United Arab Republics (UAR) and Iran

2018 - Iran in retreat

2019 - Iran out of Iraq

2020 - Hizb ut-Tahrir led by Azhar al-Qadir topples governments in Egypt and Syria

- War in stagnation with over 3 million dead

- Brief Taiwanese War & Great Crash; OPEC switches to euros

2030 - China becomes the leading global economy

2035 - China becomes world's main manufacturing centre

2038 - Orange Death unleashed, Murmansk Sunset steps onto international stage and takes over Eastern Europe

2039 - EU invades Eastern Europe to weed out Murmansk Sunset

2040 - seeing the threat to the world, the U.N. intervenes all over the world.

- EU land advance ends after millions of civilian and combatant casualties

2042 - Orange Death subsides in China after claiming 620 million lives

2043 - Plague subsides is some parts of world, such as Caliphate

2045 - the U.S. is quite weak by this point

- New outbreak of Orange Death in China; 360 million dead. Nuclear Bombs destroy several cities all over the world.

2046 - P.S.S.A. begins selling cure. It quickly unifies south america and becomes quite rich.

2048 - Power of Azharid Khalifat extends over North Africa, Sudan and Iraq

- Tibet and Xinjiang break away from Chinese rule

- Old Russia has collapsed and ceases to be an effective nation, ruled by corrupt oil lords

2049 - Iran, Central Asia and Pakistan join Khalifat

2050 - Treaty of Aali; Saudis expelled from Mecca and Medina, UAEG ensures independence

- Turkey invaded by Khalifat; European part accepted into EU

- The U.N. pulls out of many nations, but not all, hegemony established

- Orange Death spreads to France

2051 - Treaty of Paris; delineated borders, Turkey a DMZ

2056 - Population of China down to 420 million, its economy in shambles; communist party re-establishes control over country

2058 - Su Zhi-nu becomes president of China; Tranquil Progress reforms begin

2060 - Russian Coup - Viktor Saratov takes control

2061 - China forms the Organization of East Asian Countries

- Viktor Saratov dies; succeeded by son Nikoli Saratov

2063 - Biblioteca Alexandrie rededicated by Mustafa

2068 - Chinese hegemony over OEAC members established with the crushing of Vietnamese attempt to leave OEAC.

2069 - Thailand attempts to leave OEAC. China intervenes militarily

2070 - Outer regions of Khaliat become more independent, Final cure to Orange Death distributed through the air

2071 - The Eastern front is ruined by a massive offensive by the revitalized Russian military. After this date, the E.U. was no longer fighting terrorists, but an organized nation.

2072 - Robert Eddington elected president of the EU

- Shi Yu-ning becomes president of China; National Strength reforms proclaimed

2073 - Tibet and Xinjiang invaded by China

2074 - China invades Australia and New Zealand

2076 - Lars Dryer elected president of the EU

2078 - China sets up puppet state of Greater Australia; OEAC renamed to OSPC

2079 - Mustafa dies; is succeeded by nephew

2080 - Mustafa II al-Asad voted Khalif; revolts crushed

- Pierre Langevin elected president of the EU

Summary of the Murmansk Sunset New World Order Plan:

The long-term goal of Murmansk Sunset is global domination. Without the entire world under our control, the plan will be both impractical, far more costly, and will fail.

This will be achieved through a few steps.

1: An unmatchable underground network. This network must be vast and unstoppable. It must have almost unlimited resources and be able to launch any mission required of it. We must have sleeper cells capable of staging coup d’etats at a moment’s notice.

2: Widespread destruction and chaos. Random terror attacks, elimination of government ministers, to be replaced with our pawns. People will believe the old governments can no longer protect them. The first step of this was the Orange Death.

2. The takeover of all world governments. This must be subtle at first, until enough of the world is under our control or our enemies are too weak or divided to defeat us. The Orange Death began causing this. However, our plan failed, because the P.S.S.A. cured the virus. We were forced to create a nation, which was too easily destroyed by a European Union, which was not as weak as we wanted.

3. The creation of a nation. This part of the plan was rushed due to the curing of the Orange Death. We lost, and suffered a setback. Next time we cannot be as hasty.

4. This nation must appear to be the only stable nation, in part because of our terrorist nation. The people will see that Murmansk Sunset is the best solution, through a combination of common sense and propaganda.

After the entire world is under our control, the plan is this:

1: Cheap contraceptives and abortions, available to everybody. This will lower the earth’s population dramatically, cutting population growth rates to zero. (As is already happening among the rich in western countries) The Orange Death has also done its part well. It lowered the Earth’s population down dramatically. Further man-made diseases, smaller in scope, will continue to due so until an ideal population of 2 billion to 1 billion is reached.

2: The mechanization of all hard manual labor, leaving humanity free to explore sports, the arts, and science.

3: A crime rate of zero will be made possible with brainwashing techniques on the disobedient.

4: Corporate enterprises designed to restore the planet to its original pristine shape, and to colonize other worlds.

5: Selective racial interbreeding will make all races one within 1000 years.


With minimal government interference, mankind will then be able to prosper indefinitely.


Last edited by Alexios Komnenos on 2008-06-23, 14:44; edited 5 times in total
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:34

Raja:

OKAY:




Azharid Khilafah

(Shining Caliphate) from the father, Azhar al-Qadir, of the first Caliph, Mustafa al-Zahir (r.2041-79)

In 2009 the Middle East was in turmoil. Although the high price of oil meant that certain regimes around the Gulf were becoming extremely wealthy, many Muslim states were slowly coming apart at the seems.

The election in 2008 of Democratic President Barack Obama, meant that the US soon committed itself to a 2011 withdrawal from Iraq. Although several permanent US bases were set up, full military responsibility was handed over to the Iraqi Defence Forces (IDF) on June 3, 2011 - officially ending almost 8 years of war and military occupation. Soon afterwards the nation disintegrated into two seperate states: the Kurdish north which maintained its own Kurdistan Defence Force (and engaged in frequent border skirmishes w/ Turkey), and Iraq proper in the south which soon collapsed into violent sectarian conflict.

In 2012, south Iraq imploded; civil war brought down the government and thousands died in the resulting chaos as millions of refugees fled the country. By 2014 a very real humanitarian catastrophe loomed, but the UN was unable to act decisively in spite of the fact that some agencies reported that the death toll had exceeded one million. In 2015 Iran invaded the country, ostensibly to restore order however many believed its aim was to set up a Sh'ia satellite state. Arab states demanded participation, fearing a Persian Shi'a take over of Iraq, and the price of oil jumped to US$180/barrel under the very real threat of a regional conflict, catapulting the world into an oil crisis.

In 2016 open war broke out between the re-formed United Arab Republic (UAR) and Iran, causing oil prices to reach a record high of US$210/barrel and plunging the entire Euphrates-Tigris region into conflict. Although Iran initially held the upper hand, financial support from the Arab gulf states meant that by 2018 Iran was in full flight, by 2019 Iraq had been cleared of Iranian forces, and millions of Shi'a were fleeing across the border into Iran.

In the spring of 2020 the Hizb ut-Tahrir led by Azhar al-Qadir launched a military and populist coup across Egypt and Syria which toppled their governments and installed semi-democratic regimes. With the heartland of the UAR in turmoil, Iran was able to throw back attacks across the Zagros Mountains, and stabilized the front. By this time the war had claimed close to 3 million lives all told, and Iraq lay in shambles.
Then on June 22, 2020 came the Great Crash following the brief Taiwanese War leading to the complete destabilization of the region and the near collapse of the nascent Caliphate. The US dollar plunged in value, sending oil prices to over US$500/barrel, the world economy ground to a standstill, and the vast dollar reserves of the 'Petro-states' were eaten up over night. By the time OPEC officially switched the oil currency to Euros two weeks later (Iran switched to a Ruble/Yuan system) the world economy had gone into a tailspin.

Overnight US influence in the Middle East evaporated, and it was left to its own devices, the region entered into a period of steep economic decline marred by sectarian violence (of the sort that erupted in many parts of the world). Although the Gulf States and Turkey remained fairly stable, the heartland of the UAR and Iran very nearly collapsed completely. This state of affairs continued for sometime, as the world settled into a state of extreme economic depression.

Then in 2038, Orange Death came from the East and decimated the population, millions died as the huge urban centres like Cairo and Tehran turned into fetid death traps. Many believed that God had sent the plague to punish them, millions turned to more radical Islam to ease their suffering and to wash away sin. When the plague finally subsided in 2043 the Caliphate under the leadership of Mustafa Al-Zahir rose up on a wave of faith and uncertainty. Starting in Egypt and Syria, by 2048 all of North Africa and Sudan and Iraq had fallen under the golden banner of the Azharid Khalifat. In 2049 the Khalif declared amnesty and acceptance of all Shi'a, leading to the rapid conquest of Iran (which revolted against its tyrannically oppressive secular regime) and then Central Asia and Pakistan fell (or rather embraced) the new regime.

On March 2, 2050, the Treaty of Aali turned the Saudi's out of the holy cities of Medina and Mecca, leaving them a small enclave around Riyadh, where they joined the United Arabian Emirates of the Gulf. It also set out the terms by which the UAEG maintained their independence from the Caliphate, largely by supplying an annual tribute in petroleum and technologies.

In the fall of 2050, the Caliphate invaded Turkey to bring it into the orbit of the Azharids, although initial battles went poorly, by the fall the Turkish forces were forced to evacuate Asiatic Turkey; the government fled to Istanbul. At this point the EU, fearing an Islamist beachhead on European soil threatened military intervention, and in an emergency session voted to allow Turkey into the EU. This led to the Treaty of Paris signed in 2051 that delineated the borders between the Azharid Caliphate and Saratovan Russia (refer to map above), and declared Turkey (both European and Asiatic parts) a demilitarized zone (although EU accusations of DMZ violations would plague relations up to 2080).
After this the Caliphate, militarily exhausted, but economically recovering due to its oil reserves, settled down to a period of peaceful social and economic build-up. Mustafa implemented a series of political reforms, introducing some democratic reforms and spreading suffrage to women, although Islamic Law remained the arbiter of human affairs. Mustafa moved his capital from al-Kahirah to the more economically and strategically important city of al-Iskendariya, where he devoted his final years to the arts and sciences, re-dedicating the Biblioteca Alexandrie in 2063.

However, after 2070 the outer regions (North Africa, Pakistan, and Central Asia) became increasingly independent, and despite the policy of amnesty and tolerance, the Shi'a Persians began to ache for autonomy. When Mustafa died on December 25, 2079, power passed to his nephew Mustafa II al-Asad, who was voted in by popular acclaim on January 12, 2080. Separatist movements in Pakistan, Algeria, and Ethiopia-Somalia launched concerted terrorist bombing attacks across the realm, but crucially Iran did not join the revolt and it was quickly crushed. However, the cracks in the regime had now become evident, and Iran (w/ Turkey, economic powerhouse of the Khalifat) had realized it's importance within the regime - if it went, everything could tumble to the ground. If the Caliphate was going to usher in a new era of Pan-Islamic greatness, Mustafa II would have to move quickly to consolidate his sprawling realm, and defend it against the powerful, increasingly belligerent regimes that had inherited the world…


Last edited by on 2008-02-14, 05:58; edited 1 time in total
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:35

KoC

The Secretary General of the United Nations brooded in his offices in San Francisco. Outwardly he was the perfect embodiment of the united ness of the UN. Half black, the son of a fervently Christian father from Florida, and an Irish-American mother. His parentage gave him light brown skin and striking looks, which he had retained into his late 40's. So while outwardly he showed the unity and love of the UN, inwardly he was a power-hungry Megalomaniac, who had stayed in Office well past his term due to cunning propaganda, and murder.

########################################################################################

With the outbreak of the Orange Death virus in 2038 the UN had intervened quickly when it saw a threat to the more influential "Western" nations. A policy of "Quarantine" was imposed, what many didn't know, however, was that this meant the massacre of the victims of this plague. However even these brutal measures couldn't stop the virus, soon half the worlds population had been destroyed, and the world was decimated. The world began to crumble, trade embargos and revolutions had already weakened the Western World, especially America. This culminated with the nuclear attacks on major world cities, including Los Angeles and New York. This was the final nail in the USA's coffin. The once great country fell, and was quickly absorbed into the UN.

This was when Samuel Christopher Sykes was elected to the position of Secretary General, leader of the UN. He soon realised that if the UN were to survive it would have to change utterly. He kept the façade of a peacekeeping organization, dedicated to the world's poor. But secretly he slashed the budget for helping the third world, and spent the money on building up the "United Nations Corps for the Protection of World Peace" the U.N.C.P.W.P. whilst the name suggested a peacekeeping army it was in fact a ruthlessly trained, well-equipped army. Built for anything but maintaining world peace. Sykes also founded the most ruthless arm of his tyranny, the "Peace Agents", this was his legion of secret police, spies and assassins. It became to be known as "The Devil's Legion". It was lead by one of the most ruthless, bloodthirsty and fanatically loyal of all Sykes' supporters. The Irish immigrant, Edward O'Hearne. Nearly all the murders of Sykes' enemies were carried out by this organization; it came to resemble Hitler's Gestapo, or Stalin's Cheka in the fear it garnered. Sykes' had turned the UN from a nation less organization for helping solve the world's disputes, into a superpower in just under a decade. However it still had problems, although the UNCPWP was a formidable force, it was not yet large enough for the size of the UN's territories. So much of the places Sykes "ruled" were in total anarchy, and were still in ruins from the plague. But he was ambitious and powerful, keen to consolidate his power, his eyes were turned greedily towards rich South America and the PSSA.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:36

Alexius

April 30th, 2080

In the Kremlin, vodka flowed freely as Nikoli Saratov, leader of the Murmansk Sunset terror ring and President of Russia thought over the past - his life, a life dominated by fear and anger, and the future, Russia's new place in the world order, Murmansk Sunset becoming rich and powerful. He was as popular as an absolute dictator can be, for he was seen as a good alternative to the slimy and corrupt corporate rule of a few centuries ago.

Nikoli's dream was a utopia. All but his chosen few would perish in the plague, and he would reign supreme. But that had no happened. By the time he was sitting in the throne of the Czars, a cure had been found, and he had to content himself with the former Soviet states. It would suffice for now, the power and money of his Empire contenting him. But look around. The world was tumbling down. Tribal leaders remerged, the information age weakening.

The Internet no longer existed. It fell apart during the chaos of the past years. With it, the information age ended. Sure, information was available through the new Internet, but replacing the limitless information of the old would never happen. It had become the tool of scientists. All the better, for the common man was not as powerful as before.

Later in the day, Nikoli turned to affairs of defense. The great E.U. superpower to the West continued it's long offensive against the murders and terrorists, which made up Murmansk Sunset. It still refused to recognize them, even when the mainstay of the Russian army engaged them in fierce battles across Eastern Europe, driving them back past bombed out Kiev. But then, the Russian winter set in, and the world bore witness to the most brutal war of the modern era, as cities were leveled. At the end of the year, all Eastern Europe was burnt to the ground, all a massive battlefield for the two world superpowers.

Nikoli turned to Vladimir Dedenko, a five star general in the old order, now commander of the Western armies. "Report." He said, sipping his drink. "What is the latest news?"

Dedenko stood, turning to a PowerPoint presentation on the wall. "Logistics informs me that we could maintain this offensive at least until fall. That means that we still have all summer and spring ahead of us. After that, we will be forced to go on the defensive, but with the additional men and material, we should be able to hold our gains at a 30% casualty rate. Factoring in attrition, 40%. Most of these will be machine losses due to climate and repairable. Still, our offensive power will be diminished greatly, and we shouldn't be able to pass Bucharest in the South and Kaliningrad in the North the center will rest outside of Warsaw."

Nikoli was barely paying attention. "Thank you." He turned to his foreign affairs minister, a dark and brooding Murmansk Sunset operative. "What is your opinion, Yuri?"
Yuri turned to him. "We need help. There is no way that you can continue this war. 100,000 more men form the east will augment our forces. Is that enough? No. But that's all we can do. Open diplomatic talks with the E.U."

"I promised that I would not rest until we reestablished the line in Poland!" Nikoli said. "I will do that. Then we will talk."

"You're a fool." Only Yuri would dare insult Nikoli. He was not the kind of person who would be threatened by consequences for such behavior. So Saratov tolerated it. "The E.U. has better morale and technology. We have numbers. Yu heard the casualty numbers. 40% is atrocious. Seek peace, rebuild. In a few years, we can send armies twice what we have now." He begged Saratov's indifferent face. "Please."

"Very well. I will send the E.U. head a letter." Said Saratov. "And the Caliphate. If we cannot get peace, I will force it upon them."

To the head of the E.U.
I, Nikoli Saratov, wish to open talk of a ceasefire. Our respective nations have been devastated by war. I know you hold me responsible for the murder of half the world. That was not I, but the old head of Murmansk Sunset, a man by the name of Grigor Romanov. I would meet with you, if not in person, over the video phone.

Nikoli Saratov

Dear Mustafa II,
The Caliphate and the E.U. are enemies. The E.U. and I are enemies. We would request your help in defeating them. A strike in Istanbul could weaken the E.U.'s power and would be mutually beneficial. I would like to discuss this further with you.

Nikoli Saratov
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:37

Alexius

When Nikoli took the reins of power from his father, who had lead the coup against the corrupt old regime, he had only been 23. Time had changed him. He became a silent, ominous man, thinking at all times of strategy and the affairs of state.

"Sir, we had an idea that may be of interest to you." Dedenko said. "An umbrella of SAM missiles could be steadily advanced, clearing the skies of E.U. fighters."

"That would be expensive." Nikoli said. "To maintain a very high kill rate, hundreds of batteries would be required." He paused. "But… Our air force is much weaker than the E.U. air force. This could be the shot in the arm it needs. Very well, implement it."

He attempted to leave, but the foreign minister came to him. Kazak peasants were rioting, and the senate needed him present on an economic stimulus package. He dutifully went to the meeting, but not before dispatching troops to quell the rioters.

Commander Alexi armed the main gun system on the Russian T-106 assault tank. Readings indicated that merely 1,000 meters away, a column of tanks was moving towards the front, backed by infantry in jeeps. He let out a communiqué to the Russian column. "E.U. tanks, 1,000 meters. Fire."

The sound of cannon fire blasted through the night sky. Blasts shook the ground, but the great thing about modern warfare was how impersonal it was. You didn't see the other guy, even as you cut him to bits.

The clatter of machine gun fire echoed as troops, wielding AK-101s clambered out of their transports and set up cover fire, protecting the vital tanks from the E.U. infantry. But, the swarm of Russians was torn apart, as shells flew through the air and shredded the infantry ranks. Artillery shells cratered the ground, and Alexi raised the main gun system.

Cannon elevation = 30%

He pushed the red button. A volley of rounds arched through the air, devastating several E.U. tanks.

The E.U. infantry began pulling back, seeing that they were heavily outnumbered, and lacked artillery coverage. Alexi saw dying men, screaming in pain as the their comrades were forced the leave them behind and clear out.

But then, to them, salvation came. It might have been called friendly fire on the official reports, but to men who would either be killed instantly or sent to a Siberian labor camp, it was heaven sent. Eurofighters swooped low and cluster bombed the advancing Murmansk Sunset column, and their own wounded.

Alexi's column reeled as the fighters swooped in for a strafing run, before pulling up and away from the battle.

Two days later…

"Welcome to Galati, ladies." Alexi said, climbing out of the tank, and sitting down by the campfire which had been made in the center of the bombed out ruin of a city.

"We haven't seen any people since we got here." A young sergeant said. "Do you think the city was evacuated?"

Alexi laughed. "No. The Orange Death did this. Then we carpet bombed anything that survived." He scowled. "It's not good, but it's better than Kiev." He laughed joylessly. Kiev had been wiped off the surface of the earth by a nuke some years back.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:39

KoC

The man stepped out in front of him. Sykes tried to bring his weapon to bear, but then a man smashed him vicious blow over the head. Sykes collapsed into his assailants waiting arms…..a bed, in a white room. Men in lab coats leaning over him, their eyes hidden behind goggles. A syringe forced into his arm, trying to fight. Pressed down by strong hands……the room again, yet more injections. The sound of men murmuring, scribbling down notes. His body jerking under the restraints…..a cell. A white cell, cutting his wrists, he must let the viruses they feed into him out, the blood, bright red in the starkly white room, drips to the floor…..a man comes in. His lightly tanned face grave with annoyance. He calls and they come, taking him away…..carried to the van, the door thrown open to receive him…..lightening arks through the cloud ridden sky…..rain on the road, the van slipping and sliding, the wide eyes of the driver as he loses control…..free, miraculously free as the crash snatches him from the van. He lays on the ground, still to weak to move. But he must fight! Struggling to his feet in the stormy night. Grabbing the pistol of a dead guard….a car stops to see what has happened, a bullet through the drivers head. Behind the wheel driving through the country as fast as he can……the border! Bullets into the guards head's, smashing through the barrier and into no man's land…..collapsing into the arms of UN border guards. Free at last.

####################################################################################

Sykes jerked awake. Sweat was pouring down his bare chest. He looked at his wrists which still bare the self-inflicted scars. He clambered to the side of the bed, until he was sitting on the edge.

"Samuel…?"

A female voice questioned. Sykes sighed deeply, then said quietly,

"It's alright, dear, go back to sleep"

He waited until he hears her drop off again, and then climbs out of bed. The images had remained dormant for too long, he would find the man who had used him as a human guinea pig. He would have his revenge.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:38

Vibius

Cpt.Lambert took off his nightvision goggles and looked out over the devastated camp. He, and a handful of local resistance fighters had managed to seize control of a well equipped barracks. Everything had gone to plan, they had crept in through a hole he had cut in the perimeter fence, and quickly dealt with the patrolling guards using their silenced weapons. They then proceeded to neutralize the remainder of the garrison, who were sleeping, and capture their commander, who was going to be taken away by a larger force in the morning.

The plan was, originally, for him to stay with his prisoner, but he was needed elsewhere. He left the commander with his allies, and was taken away, alone, in a helicopter.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:39

Seleucos

Pierre Langevin sat at his new desk in the presidential residence in London. As well he should. After all, he was the president.

Looking back on his life it seemed almost impossible to be there. He was 15 when Orange Death took France by storm, and his city, Marseilles, was the first in the country to be hit by a pandemic rather than a few isolated incidents, as had been the case in the past 12 years, despite all measures of quarantine. He spent the next years watching as people around him died in droves, before his family was allowed to evacuate the city, having passed all medical examinations and having spent over a month in special quarantine, to ascertain that it was safe to be set loose in the rest of France. The next years of his life he spent in a village in Provence, where he could be allowed to continue his education in a school without fearing for his life. But Orange Death was persistent, and it tracked him down. Soon his village was no safer than Marseilles and his family moved again a year later. After many adventures and many years, he wound up in England alone - his parents left behind to tend to his dying sister - with a scholarship to Oxford University. England was hit less severely than the continent, but even there the effects of Orange Death were ubiquitous. People were afraid to come in personal contact; there were less people on the streets; it seemed everyone was wearing a mask.

Pierre worked hard, despite the chaos around him, or rather because of the steely resolve it had instilled in him, as well as a disdain for close contact with people and social functions. When he was 25 he was an entrepreneur with a PhD in engineering, and was one of the lucky ones to get the rare and expensive antidote. He spent the next twenty years of his life working up the financial and industrial echelons in Britain and France, eventually accepting the industry's proposals to go into politics. So he did. He was the highly influential French defense industry's golden child, and his political progress was rapid as a result. For the past years, the presidents of the EU had come from the defense industries of England or Scandinavia, men and women of military, business or administrative backgrounds, certain to serve the interests of their affiliated military-industrial complexes. But now, that had changed. France would be neglected no longer in the top tiers of executive power. With the recession of Orange Death, France was once again a powerful nation, a leader in nuclear industries that provided much of the EU's energy independence and all of its nuclear deterrent potential.

He represented that national potential, and he represented Europe as a whole; a Europe ravaged by plague and economic depression, with the closing off of the Russian market, but still a shining beacon of civilization in a world that was slowly blowing itself to pieces. Yes, the EU stood at the crossroads of destiny. The world needed Europe, to once again bring progress and stability. The next four years would change the face of the world inexorably. This, he vowed.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:40

Volksie

In the year 2080 the world was made up of superpowers. They fought and bickered over the scraps of a half-dead world and whole countries were swallowed up by their greed. No one could have seen it coming. If our ancestors could have seen the results of a few minor actions they would have feared what the world would become.

From 2008 to 2080 there was one event that affected Australia more than any other. To other countries it was Orange Death or the Nuclear strikes. To Australia it was the embargo placed upon China in 2020 by the US. Being long term allies of the US Australia supported their embargo, an action not soon to be forgotten by the Chinese.

The US collapsed and Britain was swallowed up into the EU, all power it once held now becoming part of a greater power, a power not as interested in Australia as Britain ever was. Australia found itself with only New Zealand as an ally and with a rising power to its north. As South East Asia fell under the control of the Chinese the old grudge held by the Chinese was brought into play. Despite being ravaged by economic depression China launched an invasion into Australia and around the Pacific Islands in 2037, a bare year before Orange Death struck. The quarantine defenses in Australia broke and war ground to a halt before it had even begun.

The outbreak of Orange Death began in Northern Australia and spread southwards with the influx of refugees from the north and from the Pacific Islands. The south of Australia swelled with people while the north became desolate. Soon the overcrowding in the south became an overcrowding of the dead. There was no relief from the plague and being cut off from the rest of the world the Australians did not even know that there was any sort of cure.

A fanatical religious cult was formed, believing that pain and suffering would cleanse them of the disease. Many rituals were devised by the cult and while many of these rituals were ridiculous, there must have been something that prolonged the life of the diseased people. They retreated to the mountains and became known as a dark and mutated sect.

In 2070 the disease left. People remained horribly mutilated, frozen between death and life, from the scarring effects of the disease. The population of Australia had been fully halved by the diesease that stretched across an entire generation. While the population cheered for its salvation the demon in the north stirred once more. In just ten years 60% of Australia had fallen.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:42

Raja

Zhongua Minzu and the OSPC:

the Chinese Nation and the Organization of South Pacific Countries

After the US economy entered a recession in the spring of 2008, China quietly began to sell it's US treasury bonds and began to invest heavily in the global market - causing the US dollar to drop further in value.

Economic growth continued apace, despite serious demographic and environmental problems, and by the time of the Oil Crisis of 2015 the Chinese economy had achieved (on paper) a rough parity with that of the US; behind the scenes, however, things were very different.

The US, plagued by massive deficit spending, absurd levels of foreign debt, a devaluating greenback, and stagnant economic growth, was particularly hard hit by the crisis. In the period 2015-20 its global economic hegemony was broken, replaced by the EU and the emergent powers of China, Russia, and India. At this time China developed several economic dependencies in East Africa.

In May of 2020 the Chinese Politburo decided to make good on its claims to the renegade province of Taiwan, launching an air-and-sea invasion on June 2. By the evening of June 3 the island was largely under PLA control, and on June 7 all resistance ceased.

The US had been caught completely off-guard, so that by the time a USN carrier group arrived on the scene (June 9) it was too late to intervene. The Republican president of the time demanded that China withdraw from Taiwan, and began to garner support for a multi-national trade embargo of China. Although it quickly became apparent there would be no UN-sanctioned embargo, several US allies, including the UK and Australia, agreed to join; crucially, however, Japan and South Korea, fearing economic depression, agreed only to very limited embargoes.

On June 16 the embargo went into effect, instantly removing 14% of China's export market and leading to a shortage of certain non-strategic raw materials, the SSE plunged by 8% in two days. However, China almost immediately began a mass sell-off of US T-Bonds and currency reserves, switching over the now much stronger Euro, this caused the US dollar to plunge almost overnight.

As much of the world had already begun switching to the Euro as the global currency, many places escaped relatively unscathed. However the US and OPEC, which were still heavily tied to the greenback, saw their economies and reserves, respectively, collapse within weeks. OPEC switched it's trading currency to Euros within two weeks and was able to stave off complete disaster, however this was the final blow for the troubled US economy, which entered a severe depression.

The collapse of a major global economy resulted in recession and worldwide depression, although nowhere was it as severe as in North America (which went down w/ the US).

In China yearly growth declined to 3% of GDP, increasing social unrest but leaving the economy largely intact. By 2030 China was leading worldwide recovery (outside of the US/Mexico), and by 2035 had become the worlds main manufacturing centre.

However, in the spring of 2036 a mysterious illness began to appear in the southern areas of the country, fearing avian bird flu, officials ordered that millions of birds be culled and the region put under quarantine. Regardless, it spread quickly into the surrounding regions (partly as a result of a tight media ban on the subject) and by the end of the year tens of thousands were dying everyday. Due to the lack of global media coverage, international quarantine restrictions were not put in place early enough and by the spring of 2037 there were reported cases of the virus (dubbed Orange Death due to the odd orange pigmentation it caused in the skin) in SE Asia and the US.

In 2038 in went global.

In mainland China the virus claimed 620 million lives by 2042 when it first subsided, and then a further 360 million when it broke out again in 2045. In the ensuing breakdown in law and order, millions starved. By the time the Politburo, which had survived rather unscathed, restored some semblance of order over the Provinces, in 2056, the population had declined to roughly 420 million and the economy was in shambles.

It took until 2056 for the Communist Party to be firmly re-established over the western half of the country (a considerable accomplishment as china was under the very real risk of complete political disintegration), although the Autonomous Regions of Tibet and Xinjiang broke away after 2048.

In 2058, Su Zhi-nu became President and began the Tranquil Progress reforms, which aimed to peacefully develop the country back up to economic and financial strength for the good of all Chinese - although military build-up remained a crucial component of China's 5-year plans.


In 2061 China formed the Organization of East Asian Countries, which united much of East Asia except Japan and Korea into an economic union - ostensibly for economic peace and harmony, but it soon became apparent that China was assuming the role of an exploitive super-power within the alliance.

By 2068 the Chinese military had revived to the point that Vietnamese (2068) and Thai (2069) attempts to leave the OEAC were militarily crushed, and Chinese military occupation forces deployed in most member nations.

President Shi Yu-ning came to power in 2072 and immediately proclaimed the National Strength reforms, which placed military power and regional/global economic hegemony as China's top priorities. In 2073 he invaded Tibet and Xinjiang, which saw bloody battles and ethnic massacres, followed in 2074 by an invasion of Australia and New Zealand where China faced great logistical difficulties. Despite seizing the North Island in New Zealand and large parts of Australia, enemy resistance and over-stretched supply lines meant that further progress could not be made. In 2078, China set-up the puppet state of Greater Australia, w/ it's capital at Perth and had it join the OEAC, where-on it was renamed the OSPC to further strengthen Chinese claims to Oceania.

In 2080 China faces conflict on two fronts, a land war in the interior of Asia and a long distance sea/land/air war in Oceania against the fanatical resistance of the remainder of Australia-New Zealand. Her economy has been stabilized, and is now the powerhouse of Asia - Japan remains intact but isolated - w/ few powerful rivals, although there have been minor skirmishes w/ UN forces in India and Nepal. However, if China is to rise up to her divinely ordained place in the Universe as shepherd of the world, it will take guile and cunning, brutal use of force and pragmatic diplomacy, and a good deal of luck…
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:44

Alexius

My name is Gregori. I will not tell you my last name, for fear of government reprisals, but I must get my thoughts down on paper, for I am old, and one of those few who remembered a time when the Orange Death did not exist. Compared to today, when petty dictators rule a half dead world, a world burnt and ruined by their foolish wars, that world was a utopia. I was 9 in 2000.

Look at the East Ukraine, Poland, Romania, Moldovia, the Baltic states, and parts of Belarus. They have a population of 1/5 of what they did after the Orange Death stuck, and 1/10 the productivity. We're fighting over the twisted ruins for some long forgotten reason. It's ridiculous. Kiev no longer exists. A Nuclear bomb saw to that.

I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, but having saw what happened to the world, half the world dying slowly and painfully, while doctors refused to help. I can't blame them. The ones that did accomplished nothing and died in vain. Some say struggle brings out the best in humanity. I disagree. They weren't the ones who saw the slaughter of innocents, the infected. They weren't the ones who saw the cities, overflowed with bodies, lying out on the street. They aren't the ones, who think about they hundreds of miniature hills, mass graves for the cremated ashes of the victims, the ones which line the highways to and from the major cities.

Something good must have come out of this, but I can't find it. Few want to keep any religiousness now. How could God have done this? He didn't. We did it to ourselves. But still, we must look for a glimmer of hope, and hope that something comes out of a world ruled by warlords in Africa, extremists in the East, and dictators everywhere, where man kills each other and destroys with fearsome power. We must hope for the best. But, I must ask myself. Can anything good come out of this?
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:45

Alexius

Review of the effects and symptoms of the Orange Death, or O. Coli, by its Latin name



The Orange Death is a bacteria transmittable by close human proximity, being able to survive in open air for extended periods of time, up to 10 hours.

Created by Nikoli Oksana et al in 2032 for the medical research purposes, and named Oksanella Coli in his honour, the bacterium was further mutated by the scientists of Murmansk Sunset into an extremely deadly form.

The bacterium resides largely in the intestines, but also survives in the stomach lining and around the nose and mouth (from which most inter-personal contamination occurs - although fecal contamination remains a leading cause of infection in areas of poor sanitation). It has the peculiar attribute of also producing large amounts of beta-carotene as a by-product of anaerobic respiration - which leeches through the intestinal lining and after two weeks gives the skin of the patient a noticeable orange pigmentation.

After two weeks, bacterial concentrations in the nose and mouth cause the respiratory system to swell and produce mucous, causing symptoms similar to a common cold.

In the stomach and intestine, bacterial concentrations after roughly 2-3 weeks cause ulcers and blood vessel ruptures in the small intestine. Although periodic diarrhea may have occurred in previous stages of the infection, traces of blood in the feces is typically the first sign of Extreme Drug-Resitant Oksanella Coli beta-variant (XDR O. Coli B - Orange Death) infection.

After this stage the patients health generally descends rapidly.

The patient is afflicted by massive haemorrhage of the stomach and intestine (and in some mutations the lungs and repiratory system - this mutation typically causes death within 36hr of symptoms first appearing), which leads to blood-saturated vomit and diarrhea. On the skin, beta-carotene concentrations begin to harden, causing hard patches of orange skin to mottle the patient, in some patients this also occurs around the eyes and nose. Typically, 24-48 hours after severe symptoms begin, the patients major systems begin to shut down and they become comatose. Death comes soon after from blood loss.

Resistant to all forms of antibiotics in 2038, the airborne variant swept around the world within two years and outbreaks continued to occur for decades afterwards. It was finally eradicated in 2070 after special antibiotics were made widely available by the PSSA and a project of atmospheric dissemination of powerful anti-bacterials was launched, although these were later found to aversely affect dozens of types of beneficial bacteria.

Although some patients do survive infection (if it doesn't enter the hemorrhagic stage), they are still afflicted by disfiguring patches of beta-carotene and brain damage that results from swelling of the brain and nasal passages.

In 70% of cases, it is fatal. However, all but 1% of the infected were killed for fear that they would infect others. Those who live to tell the tale are scarred horribly all over their body from the bruises, which eventually go away, leaving the skin mottled where they were. Also, they suffer from many residual health problems. Many of these survivors have committed suicide as a result.

The only treatment is a product called The Serum. The Serum is a misnomer, because it is a virus, but one which kills the Orange Death, before it can have any effect on you. It was found growing on a rotting tropical fruit in the rainforest, but was, almost impossible to cultivate, requiring such perfect conditions, and only growing on a extremely rare form of tropical fruit, (or safely inside the human body) undiscovered until that point, that only the rich or the lucky could get their hands on it, until it was genetically modified to be easily mass-produced, and was distributed into the air.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:46

Sao Paolo, Brazil
Sunday, 28 January 2080
09:21 AM

Alvaro Noriega was nervous as he sat in his office in the tallest building in Sao Paolo. He was due to make his opening adress as the newly elected President of the Pharmaceutical States of South America, one of the few remaining bastions of civilisation on Earth. Elected? Well, not quite. Noriega had spent millions bribing councillors and election officials, to secure his rise to power. Despite overwhelming public support for his opponent, Fernando Ramos de la Cruz, he was now the leader of his people, and the man that would lead the P.S.S.A into the dark days to come.

His family were Argentinian immigrants to Brazil, after the Orange Death destroyed their village. Poor and without a source of income, Hernan Noriega was forced to act as an enforcer for one of the drug cartels that were running rampant at the time. Initially, the things he did caused deep emotional distress, but it made the Noriega famly rich beyond their dreams. Vaccinated at an early age, Alvaro had no problems with the Orange Death personally. But, many of his friends were not so lucky. He watched so many people die in agony, numbing him to the sight of death. He often helped carry the corpses of the people he knew to the funeral pyres, and as he watched them burn in silence, he never shed a single tear.

But now he felt very emotional. This was the culmination of a life's work, and at 52 years of age, Alvaro Noriega was where he wanted to be. In control.

Somewhere in the jungles of Brazil, at a freedom fighter camp.
Sunday, 28 January 2080
09:28 am

"Augustin, your father is about to start." Jose's words snapped Augustin Noriega out of his reverie, making him spill his coffee.
"Jose, Jesus, you startled me! Why do you assume I want to see him speak? You know I hate the pendejo and that puta he married."
"Augustin, jeez, calm down man. I just thought, you know, you wanted to see the lies he spreads on TV."
"Okay, I'm coming. I'll just put some clothes on." He looked over to the naked girl in his bed, suddenly feeling aroused as she smiled suggestively. "Actually, Jose, could you record that for me? I have feeling it's going to take a while to find my clothes."

Laughing, Jose shook his head and left the hut. Rosa rides a man long and hard, and she had the sexual appitite of a rabbit, but so far, Augustin's been able to keep up with her. It has made sleeping close to their hut a bit difficult, though. Gonzalo's even started selling earplugs around camp! Might need to get a set...
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:47

Vibius

In the past, Lambert would've struggled to do what he had just done, to kill unarmed men. He had seen so much death, he had learnt to block out thoughts that they were human. They were just machines, that would do exactly what he was going to do to them. That thought was what kept him sane. That, and that these men could easily have helped the murderers of his family, his friends, his wife, everyone he held close. He could have been out for revenge. But he knew that those bastards would be punished for eternity. No. He was fighting so that it wouldn't happen again.

"Captain, we're approaching the DZ. Get ready, command tells us that from what they've seen of the hostile force it's gonna be hell down there. Unfortunately, because of the circumstances we can't provide air support. Get to Alexi as fast as you can, make sure he lives, we need him."

He put his pistol in it's holster. He was ready. He could deal with anything. It was what he had trained for. Even if he was heading into hell. He was ready.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:47

KoC

A Flat, Somewhere in a metropolitan area, 2080

The room was spinning out of control, the man collapsed to the floor breathing heavily. Manic laughter escaped from his lips as he lay on the floor. The drug had taken hold. Suddenly a loud buzz pierced through his mind's narcotic-induced fog. His eyes darted to the ceiling, the red light was flashing. His mind struggled to connect what these signals meant. Then, inspiration!

"The door" he muttered, "Someone at the door"

Struggling to his feet he stabbed at the video link to the front doors of the building. As soon as he saw who the visitor was he almost fell down with shock. He punched desperately at the entrance button, allowing his visitor to come up.

"Shit. Oh shit" he muttered. How could he have forgotten? He kicked the debris from his drug taking under the sofa and smoothed down his rumpled T-shirt. There was a sudden loud rap on the door, he rushed to open it, flicking the bolts from the frame and springing the latch. He opened the door with a sharp tug. The man he had seen through the CCTV was standing in the corridor. Without talking he strode past the flat's occupant and into the main room of the small flat. The first man stood staring out into the corridor for a few seconds, before shaking himself and slamming the door shut.

The second man was waiting for him in the flat's main room, sitting on the grotty sofa. If he had noticed the first man's appearance or the flat's grottyness, he hadn't thought to mention it.

"You have the equipment I asked for?" the second man asked. He nodded his consent

As with the only other time they had met the first man noticed his voice, wherever he was from, he certainly wasn't local.

"The gun? The fuses?"

"I have it all, don't worry"

"Get it then"

The man walked from the room and into another. Leaving his strange visitor alone in the main room. He pulled a pistol from the pocket of his cracked leather jacket, he checked that the clip was full, and slipped it between two cushions. The first man returned carrying a large box, and a sports bag. He placed them on the floor.

"It's all here. Everything you asked for" he waited for the other man's response. When he remained silent he spoke again, more hesitantly this time, "and my money? You have it?"

"There has been a change in plan. We can no longer afford the risk of you talking. Consider our contract terminated" with that he drew the pistol from its hiding place.

"N-No" the first man stuttered, then stopped as a bullet was drilled through his forehead, the sound muffled by the inbuilt silencer. He pitched backwards falling to the floor. The killer got up, grabbed the items from the floor and walked to the door, closing it behind him. The Legion had arrived.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:48

Seleucos

April 30th, 2080


A buzzer sounded on president Langevin's desk.

"What now?" he wondered begrudgingly.He had spent the afternoon meeting with heads of state of the various member states of the European Union, an acrobatic feat of diplomacy with so many envious and powerful people in the same room, not to mention a strain on his agoraphobic nerves.

He had been president for little over a week, and already he was taking heat over the formation of his cabinet. His foreign minister was Portuguese; the Scandinavians considered it a blatant shift of foreign policy towards the PSSA and resented it. His defence minister was a German general; the previous defence minister had also been German, so the other major industrial-military states were vexed. Lars Dryer, the previous president of the EU, was particularly caustic, spreading around the European parliament the idea that the South was taking over Europe, after two decades of dominance by Northern political interests. The king of England, powerless but still a figurehead deemed important enough to participate in the meeting, spent the evening talking with Dryer and Eddington, the British former EU president, after little more than a polite greeting to Langevin.

Still, he was not worried. These were all to be expected. The sharing of power in the European government followed the sharing of power of the economic elements that supported it, and the 'South', as the British and Scandinavians liked to call it, was rebounding after the Orange Death. He had just washed his hands thoroughly with disinfectant and changed into sterilized clothes, when he responded to the buzzer. What he heard nearly gave him a stroke.

"A ceasefire! That murderous, terrorist bastard has the audacity to call for a ceasefire!"

"Will you be sending him an answer?" his secretary asked calmly. She was French. Dryer and the others found fault with that too.

"Is there even a point in talking to such a being? He is clearly lying through his teeth! Does he really expect me to believe that he holds no responsibility for Orange Death? Even if what he says about the previous head of Murmansk Sunset is true, does that make a difference?"

"Would you like me to notify the foreign minister?"

Yes, Pierre thought with increasing lucidity, this communication would eventually become known to parliament and he should consult with his ministers before making any decisions that might seem rash and unpresidential.

"Do that. Have ministers Agostinho and Hafner meet me in half an hour."

What a day! More people! And just when he had disinfected himself...
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:48

Seleucos

Telma Agostinho was a confident woman, in her late 40s, and above all she was a confident diplomat. She had served as the EU ambassador in Sao Paulo and was an expert on the political situation of the Americas. Carl Hafner was the silent military type, last seeing action in 2076 in the immense butchery that was the Eastern front. He was now on the payroll of the defence industry, like most sensible retired generals.

"Your thoughts?" Langevin asked when they had read Saratov's message.

"It's clearly a sign of weakness", Hafner rushed to say. "The great Russian offensive must have fewer reserves than we had calculated. It could be like an expanding balloon waiting to be popped."

"And yet it's still expanding..." Langevin said bitterly.

"We're making them pay for each centimetre of land they gain with men and equipment they cannot possibly replace in the immediate future! We cannot afford to give them rest - all our strategies would be nullified."

"And what do you think?" Langevin asked Agostinho.

"We've been in a state of total war with Russia for nine years. This has had a continuous detrimental effect on our policies around the world, and our ability to project power outside Europe. Cyprus has been demilitarized and granted its own foreign policy, to allay the Caliphate's fears that it may be used as a platform of invasion against it. French Guiana, deserted after Orange Death, has now been claimed by the PSSA with little possibility of us reclaiming it through diplomatic means. Quebec is interested in joining the Union, but a large percentage of its population and policy makers are loath to do so during a war of this magnitude, with no direct effect on them. Meanwhile, the United Nations are expanding their power in North America through populism or intimidation.
Our foreign policy so far has been to keep the balances in the Americas to ensure free trade with Europe. However, that may not be so feasible in the future, without the means of military EU intervention."

"What are you suggesting?" asked Hafner, "That we make peace with Saratov and go on an American liberation adventure?"

"I'm not suggesting a full scale invasion. Despite the UN getting its hands on much of the USA's old warships, we still have the most efficient navy in the world, a tool that could be well used in projecting our influence in the Americas. Once we have established closer economic or political ties with the smaller American states and the PSSA and reined in the UN's ambitions, we will be in a more powerful position against Murmansk Sunset. Having secured the Americas, our fleet could even convince the Japanese to come out of their isolation and create a second front against Russia."

"Our navy! Our navy should be in the Black sea bombarding Ukraine!"

"You know our treaty with the Caliphate prohibits us from moving military vessels through the Hellespont. Challenging the Calipahte at this point would certainly only benefit Russia."

Langevin could see the point Agostinho was trying to make. Any new conquest in the Eastern Front would give Europe only depopulated lands and devastated infrastructures. It was the Americas that offered more chances for meaningful expansion. But it was about Saratov! How could he be trusted, how could he be allowed to lead a country as powerful as the new Russia! If they refused to reply to his message, it would be simple. However, a cease-fire would have to be agreed upon by the parliament, and there was no way he could present such an option without looking like he was completely disrespecting the policies of the previous governments. Not yet, that was.

"We are fighting the great war of our century, against a monster the likes of which have never before been seen in history. We must not believe that we can reason with such a man. We must not believe that we can feel secure with him at our borders. We must not believe that the blood of our fathers and brethren, our countless dead, can be washed away by a treacherous offer of peace. We must not be those people, for we are the leaders of Europe and we are not cowards! We will fight in the skies and in the muddy ground of Eastern Europe, we will fight in the Baltic, we will fight all the way to Moscow, for this is our only meaningful option!"

The meeting was being recorded and could eventually be available to members of the parliament, so it was sensible to appear heroic.

"Your analysis of our geopolitical situation is, however noteworthy. The lessening of tensions with the Caliphate could allow us to use a part of our Mediterranean fleet elsewhere, perhaps accompanying my first formal visit to Quebec as president of the EU."


Diplomatic messages:

Dear Mustafa II,

As the new president of the EU, I would like to congratulate you on the progress the Azharid Khalifat has made in establishing peace and prosperity in Western Asia and Northern Africa. The EU has always respected our delineated borders, and wishes to expand our trade agreements and the feelings of goodwill between our two great powers. I propose a series of state visits between our two capitals to discuss the possibility of future cooperation.

Pierre Langevin
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:52

Alexius

30 kilometers outside of Galati, further inside Romania.

Alexi hated being a soldier. All the bloodshed seemed so unnecessary, so brutally pointless. But he would do his duty to his country. Born to a wealthy family, they wasted away their fortune to protect him from the Orange Death. They procured a position of power in the army, and they insured he had a future - more than most had during the plague.

"Sir, the supply depot 10 miles east of the city reports that they have been attacked. Nothing else. It is likely they were destroyed."

Alexi looked up from the burnt out ruins of a town that he gazed contemplatively into, a tear running down his face. "In your opinion, is it worth sending out a strike team?"

"No, sir." He young recruit said. "By the time we have arrived, the attackers will have left."

Alexi looked away. "Then don't bother." He said. "It wasn't worth reporting. Minor depot."

He stood, grasping the weapon. He leveled it into the dark. He knew something had moved. His small battalion readied, using the jeeps and various light transport battalions as cover. A rocket screamed out of the dark, and the Russian soldiers scattered. "Get DOWN!" Alexi screamed, spinning towards the source of the attack. Flipping a switch on the rifle, the world through the scope turned into infrared tones. The figure was concealed behind a thin wall, but it was not cover. He fired towards the center of the heat source. A shower of depleted uranium struck the man, and he fell back into view. Some soldiers celebrated, but Alexi simply re-enabled normal sight, and looked up.

"Alexi, intel has reported a small unit of shock troops has landed near us, and to expect a large-scale attack."

He gulped. "Take cover then!" He flipped out a radio, quickly tuning it, as he ran towards the ruins of a bombed out building. "Arial 1, do you copy?" He whispered.

"Arial 1 here. What is it?" The voice came in, scratchy over the radio.

"We may need support. How many helicopter transports can you get here asap?" Suddenly, the world broke into insanity. Gunfire tore apart the wall around him. Alexi spun to face the threat, radio still against his ear. He leveled the gun with one hand and sprayed his assailant, but he dove back behind the wall, and Alexi's shots went high by a mile. "We've got three tanks closing on your position, three helicopters nearby, all gunships, I'll send them in, but…"

"I'm the battalion commander for the whole Black Sea assault wing! Can't you spare some more?"

"Not without weakening the line somewhere else." Alexi shook his head. That would put other units in danger. He couldn't risk it.

He took cover and provided strafing fire for others, as they tried to scramble into the jeeps, but rockets screamed over their heads, tearing apart the retreat. Russians fell in droves, and the men had a perfect ambush set up. Alexi looked around. The men were primarily on the streets, spraying the Russians as they fell back. Alexi quickly sprinted from building to building, firing, taking cover, reloading, firing, taking cover, and reloading again. He had made it pretty far. Few Russians were still standing though, and more and more rounds came his way, despite him doing the best to hold them off. There was a ridge about 100 yards away. It would be a long run under heavy fire, but what chance did he stand here, as they bore down on him?

Just as he made up his mind to sprint, a gun was placed to the back of his hand. "Give me a reason to keep you alive, Russian swine." The voice said.

Alexi spun, tying up the gun with his left hand, and punching him in the face, clawing at him. The man dropped the gun, and it discharged, hitting his boot. He gave a quick cry, but kept clawing at the man, pulling out a switchblade knife and stabbing him in the throat. He fell to the ground, and Alexi bowed his head in reverence to the fallen man.

The E.U. soldiers now were coming around the corner. The first one had his gun knocked out of his hand and was stabbed, but the second managed to doge the knife thrust, and clocked him with the butt of his rifle.

Alexi saw stars, staggering back. He was surrounded. A cold faced, youngish man approached him, pistol raised. He lunged forward, but was kicked in the gut. He fell back up against the wall, the pain in his foot getting to him.

"Kill me, dammit." Alex breathed. "You won't get anything from me."

"We will see." The man said, pointing the pistol at him. Alexi could see now it was a stun gun. He fired, and Alexi passed out.

Moscow, Russia

"I doubt your call for ceasefire will be seriously considered. We must look to our own borders." Dedenko looked over the latest intel. "We are ahead of schedule, militarily. There are reports that our troops have come within 150 kilometers of Bucharest, and Kaliningrad is under siege! I would say we are safe, although in isolated places, E.U. air power and strike teams have seriously crippled our assault."

"All good." Saratov said, his eyes bloodshot and pupils dilated and unfocused. "Then I assume there is no need to continue this meeting… I have… er… other things to attend to today."

"The senate is not meeting today." Yuri seemingly made this sound casual, but the cabinet understood the velvet tongued slight. Saratov's problems were well known among his confidants.

Saratov turned to Yuri, making a powerful, sweeping gesture with his right hand. "Unless you have something else to bring up? Economics is err…handled, and that is not your job anyways, Yuri."

Yuri scowled. "We do need to address the oil pipelines. Several have fallen into disrepair."

Saratov returned the scowl. "That is a matter for the politicians in the council. Bring it up, and do not rest until they agree to the money required to fix it. Go now." He dismissed Yuri, who passed up on the opportunity for another jab.

"Right. How soon until the missile umbrella is complete?" Saratov asked.

Dedenko looked up from his papers. "In at most early May." He shuffled the notes in front of him. "We will have complete air dominance in the sectors covered by the umbrella, and the ability to bombard all along their front, with surface to surface missiles. With it, we will be able to advance our ground troops further and faster. The missile batteries will also advance, and we can possibly cut casualty figures by at least a third. As you know, we will soon run out of infantry reserves, at least by the fall. This will extend them until new recruits can be brought to the battle.
A politician, named Gregori Ivanov looked up. "How do you think they will interpret our treaty offer?"

Saratov turned. "Besides scoff at it, I do not know. Yuri was a fool for suggesting such an idea. There is little to discuss now. Once the batteries come on and we receive a reply from Mustafa, we can further think over this. Can everybody just go now?"

The advisors filed out of the room.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:53

Vibius

"Sir, he's in there."

"Good work Private, I saw you take him in. You're destined to be somebody."

Alexi is tied to a chair, Lambert orders the guards to leave them to talk alone.

"I've heard stories about you," he said,"you show mercy to your enemies. I wish everyone was like you. If that happened, we would never have gotten into this mess."
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:54

Alexius

Alexi ignored the comment from the man."Who are you? Where am I?"

"Sgt. Lambert. But I'm asking the questions here. Your name and rank?"

"Go to hell." Alexi said disdainfully. "I'm not answering any of your questions. You know that already. You have my dog tag. Cut to the chase."

Lambert frowned. "You are slightly famous for being the most merciful Russian commander. You care for our wounded prisoners, you bother to restrain our men. I thought you would be nicer in person."

"I'm not going to betray my country. Simply because I treat my enemies like humans doesn't mean anything. And I'm not selling you my information. Send me to a concentration camp in Greenland. Whatever." He looked into Lambert's eyes. Lambert could see the stubborn determination.

Lambert paced back and forth. "Command has ordered me to torture you until I get the intel I want." He said. "I have no choice. You will tell me what I need to know or die, slowly and painfully."

"That's a violation of the Geneva convention." Alexi said. "You're bluffing."

"Geneva convention! The Russians torture for information, they murder civilians, raping and pillaging!" Lambert laughed.

"So do you." Alexi retorted.

Lambert shrugged. "All civilization was thrown out the window. Africa reverted to tribal warfare. The history books tell us it used to be industrialized. No longer. The world is ruled by oppression and fear. There's no place for niceties like that in today's world."

"Don't you think the world would be a better place with them?"

"Yes, but that's not the point." Lambert replied. "The point is…" Then, he thought better of replying, and left the room.


*BCC news broadcast*

Breaking news! The Murmansk Sunset missile umbrella will be activated in 3 months time. This is a major update from previous estimates of July. The difference being that a major contract company which provides transportation for such weapons has decided to bring an estimated 200 additional trucks, something which will make the setup of SAM batteries much more efficient and easier.

The long term consequences can only be good for Murmansk sunset, and mean that the EU will have to redouble efforts to defend it's holdings in eastern Europe. Columnist John Casey to speak about this announcement soon. Is it bluffing? Can we take the risk?

But for now, a word from our sponsors...
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-14, 04:54

2038

It was a dark night, a hard rain coming down in Xi`an, China. Ivanov slipped into the crowded nightclub. He slipped through the crowd of partiers, clasping a sealed beer bottle in his left hand.

There was limited time at hand. He knew the authorities were perusing him closely. In fact, unless it was just his imagination, he could hear sirens over the blasting music. He opened the beer bottle, and hurled it into the crowd.

There were screams as the glass broke. Everything in the room was contaminated, for inside the bottle was not beer, but O. Coli.

Everyone in the room, including Ivanov, had but five weeks to live, plenty of time to infect untold thousands. He would be a martyr for the cause. Saratov's crusade would continue. Murmansk Sunset would rule the world.

These things, Ivanov knew would come to pass. But he would not live to see them. Chinese SWAT teams smashed down the door of the establishment and dragged Yuri out, infecting themselves.

Ivanov laughed manically.

Ivanov was a murderer, the end man responsible for the death of billions. But he went to his death laughing insanely, as Chinese police brutally beat him. His orders came from Nikoli Saratov's father, but nobody would know that.

It could become convent to blame Nikoli, and the difference was hazy. A half dead and burnt world needed a living scapegoat. It didn't matter. Every Murmansk Sunset soldier deserved to die.

So, the E.U.'s crusade against the Murmansk Sunset could only be viewed as the correct view. In 2038, Murmansk Sunset had used it vaccine monopoly to gain control of Eastern Europe. (if your country joined Murmansk Sunset, you and your family would be saved) The next year, the E.U. sent everything it had into Eastern Europe.

The land war was long. The E.U. made huge sweeping advances, but the Eastern Europeans, seeing only imperialism as a motivator, responded with brutal scorched earth tactics and suicide bombing supply convoys. A year of hard fighting passed, leaving 300,000 E.U. soldiers and a million civilians and Murmansk Sunset soldiers dead. In 2040, there was a change of fortune. The E.U. finally ended the land war, scattering and routing division after division of Murmansk Sunset forces.

900,000 E.U. dead and millions of civilian casualties had been a steep cost. And Murmansk Sunset refused to give up so easily. They launched a massive terrorist bombing campaign. Soon, Eastern Europe was a depopulated and burnt out ruin. This would be the status quo until 2071, a 31 year occupation, which grew weaker with every passing year. The E.U. was busy preventing the Orange Death. Slowly, it all fell apart. Budget cuts had left the army ill-equipped to stop another professional fighting force. Duty in Eastern Europe was seen as a dead-end career - either you were killed or you lived for years in appalling conditions.

The lack of preparedness to fight an organized army was a major problem. Russia had collapsed into dictatorial rule by corrupt oil lords in 2048, and had been easy prey for a coup launched by Viktor Saratov, Nikoli's father, which toppled Russia in 2060, although Nikoli took control soon after, as his father died the following year.

Nikoli Saratov used the vast oil wealth of Russia to modernize the army, creating several advanced weapons systems which were unlike anything seen before - the AK-201, a feather-light weapon which packed the same punch as the AK-74 or AK -47 without recoil, a new tank called the T-124, near silent and with several new classified weapons systems. He repaired the Russian fleets, and brought a new line of fearsome MIG fighters and helicopters.

In 2071, he was ready. He declared that Russia was now a part of Murmansk Sunset, and the Russian army stormed into eastern Europe, quickly reclaiming their half and continuing to advance deep into E.U. occupied ground, until ¾ of old Murmansk Sunset was finally liberated, and they continued to advance.

But the plague was cured, and the E.U. rebuilt quickly as well, halting the advance, although not at great cost. The lines continued to be pushed deeper into Europe for eight more years. All of the old Murmansk Sunset was liberated, and soon, new lands were devastated. Poland was brutally razed, as was much of Romania.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by Aeraaa on 2008-02-14, 13:47

A fortified bunker somewhere in the Pindus mountains

The atmosphere was tense in the War Room. Military personnel was running up and down the complex and orders, reports and announcements were made almost constantly. General Aeropoulos was looking the most worried man, and the most lively out there. He was a fierce looking man, well into his forties. That was the commander of the battle-hardened 3rd Army Group, the one that was responsible for the defense of the whole EU southeastern flank. Having climbed ranks in the military quickly due to his connections, Aeropoulos proved a skilled and capable commander, to the surprise of most of people. After his worth was proven in the beginning of the Eastern War, Aeropoulos was given the command of this historical unit. This was not to be easy, however. Thinks were looking grim for his forces. With a total manpower of about 400.000, 2/3rds of the Kaliphate’s nearby forces, and half as strong as Murmansk’s ones in the region, this was not a situation anyone would like to be. Superiority in equipment was at EU’s side in almost every department. The FV-8125 Cataphract, EU’s main battle tank had better armor and firepower than any of the T tanks of the Russian army. In terms of airforces, the difference was even greater, since Eurofighters Mark III were miles better than the MiGs and Sukhois of their opponents. However, the reality was much less rosy. The ratio in tanks was 1/8 to Murmansk’s favour. Large part of the line was held by infantry armed with only Panzerfluch Anti-Tank missiles. In the air, things looked much worse when intel came to the headquarters about the new missile shield Murmansk Sunset was about to deploy. Not to mention that most of the reserves in terms of aircraft were the obsolete F-35 fighter/bombers of the Greek, Serbian and Croatian national guards. And there was always the artillery in the opposite side which lowered the morale of the army even more. Things were needed in order for the balance to be restored. The Russians could afford losses, Euros could not. This was a major factor.
Aeropoulos was receiving incoming transmissions all the time.

-Sir, Russians are making preparation artillery fire in the Sibiu sector. Lot’s of armor is being reported by our UAV’s.
-Send the 10th armored in the sector and connect me with major general Brankovic (the air force commander in the area). This bastard must send every attack plane he can muster fast!
-Sir we have reports of the 98th infantry regiment being besieged in Tmisoara
-The 5th and the 11th must go and relieve them. Send the order now!
-Hey look at Euronews Dimitri. Seems our politicians consider sending an expeditionary force to Quebec! Said Brigadier General Sneider, German in background and one of Aeropoulos best friends.
-Wonderful! My army is bleeding in Romania and the white collars that we call government want to make a vacation in the Americas. What do they think they are, Colombus? Gah, why should I bother. They are the same they told me that fortifying Cyprus is not an acceptable option, because it will anger the Kaliphate. What do you expect. The Arabs are still our enemies, ceasefire or not. Damn them!
-Heh! That’s why they’re saying that…

An officer interrupted their dialog.
-Sir, We have reports that a Russian high ranked officer has been captured by our forces.
-That’s excellent news, said Aeropoulos, the best I’ve heard in a week. Interrogating him will give some valuable information about the strength of most of the Murmansk forces in Romania. What’s his name?
-Alexi Smirnov, Corp Commander
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by Seleukos of Olympia on 2008-02-14, 18:12

1 May 2008

The huge plasma screen glowed spectrally in the dark room, bathing its surfaces with kaleidoscopic reflections. A small grey jet, like a star-shaped dart, made acrobatic displays – floating gracefully in air, as if it were not causing the least displacement or noise in it, then seemingly stopping mid-air to change directions, and finally launching an equally grey missile – almost invisible on the screen – from out a side compartment.
“The DELEN Spectre prototype, Mr. President” the lovely young woman said. President Langevin was holding a model of the Spectre in his hands.
“Developed independently of government funding by a consortium of European industries, it is at once a supplement to the Eurofighter Mk. III and a technological step forward. Its superior STOVL capabilities and ultra-stealth design give it the flexibility to operate from carriers or short or bombarded runways, and in environments deadly to most other aircraft.”
At a cost in fuel and weapon capacity, high maintenance and, of course, high cost, thought Langevin. Of course he would know that. His company was involved in its development within DELEN. The Spectre had been rejected by previous governments on account of those shortcomings and on account of the virtues of the EADS Eurofighter Mk. III. But then again, previous governments were closely affiliated with EADS.
“The Spectre is conducting prototype tests and will soon be ready to enter production. It is a multi-billion euro project that creates thousands of jobs across Europe...”
But mainly in France, Italy and Spain, thought Langevin,
“...Stimulating growth in the high-tech industries and supporting economies alike. The Spectre is the ideal answer of Europe to the changing threats of the future, in the form of ground or sea based air suppression elements. Assuming a successful prototype phase, the first production models can enter service by the first quarter of 2081.”
That was a waste of time, Langevin thought. He didn’t need convincing. He had few reliable friends, and he could not afford to turn his back on them. DELEN had been branching out in Sweden and the Netherlands, and that would help their case when he supported the Spectre in the next budget meeting. It would be just before his first official visit to another country as head of state of the European Union. Better to get it over with, then, so he could be more relaxed in Quebec.

The presentation was over and the lobbyist was soon gone. He looked over at Carl Hafner. He had fewer connections to the airspace industry, but that wouldn’t have mattered much in any case. He had a habit of making detached cost-benefit assessments regardless of his personal stakes in the factors involved. That habit was unnatural in politics, and it was a reason why Langevin had chosen him to be his defence minister.
“If we’re going to allocate an extra few billions of euros to a fighter program, it would make more sense to spend them on new construction plants for the Eurofighter Mk. III and the development of further ECM upgrades for it.”
“Ah, Carl, you know that with the extra time it would take to construct more factories for the Eurofighters we would end up with fewer new fighters in the short term than going with DELEN. Besides, the Spectre will stimulate growth in underdeveloped areas of Europe and you can’t deny its military potential.”
“Upgraded Eurofighters would have almost the same potential with lower cost, especially as we would not need spare parts and supplies for two different fighters in service. It’s bad enough with the F-35s now.”
“Well, I think you will agree that most of these factors balance each other out, and so the defining factor is political, not economic or military. I intend to support the Spectre in Parliament and I hope that you will see the benefits of such a choice until then.”
Hafner was swayed by facts, so it would make sense to let him be persuaded by the facts alone. One new fact was that the president wanted Spectres.

“So, what news from the Eastern Front?”
“We are giving ground slowly and methodically across the front. The Russians are getting used to attacking where we withdraw and we use this tactic to lure them into traps, with good results so far. But they seem to be refining their tactics as well. Kaliningrad’s fortifications are holding and the Russians have paid bloodily in their attempts to circumvent it. In Romania they’ve hit us harder than we anticipated and the 3rd Army Group is struggling to keep them back. They could do wonders with our fresh divisions...”
“Those divisions are our reserves, and there are pressures to use them elsewhere. You remember operation Karol, the plan devised by the Joint Chiefs of Staff in the final month of Dreyer’s presidency?”
“The plan to advance through Finland towards Saratovgrad, while making diversionary attacks in the Baltic States with our navy and marines? I thought we had rejected that as too risky.”
“Well, there are many who think it isn’t too risky, and that liberating Finland and threatening Saratovgrad will force Saratov to go on the defensive. Those people are quite voluble, and I am seriously reconsidering that option. Our fleet currently enjoys free reign in the Baltic, so it is certainly possible.”

Hafner didn’t reply. He was thoughtful, weighing the facts of war against the fancies of politics. He must have agreed that operation Karol was achievable, otherwise he would have protested, but Langevin could tell he was not happy with this change of strategy either. He had served in the 3rd Army Group as a general in the early years of the war, before he retired, and knew many of the officers serving there. But he was a man of facts. Sooner or later he would be persuaded by them. One new fact was that the president could lose his job if he did not keep some circles appeased with an offensive in the north.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by Alexios Komnenos on 2008-02-16, 09:36

Yuri stood, and called the meeting to recess. He had used his power to amass control over the vital flow of energy, heating the frozen Murmansk Sunset empire, and he had every reason to worry that those paid by Dedenko would try steal his wealth.

He scanned the rows of senators and politicians standing and heading for the doors. Dedenko was not among them. He climbed down from his podium and moved into a smaller conference room. Saratov and Dedenko both stood there.

“We have a situation Yuri.” Said Dedenko. “Time to stop playing games with lobbyists once in a while.” He laughed softly.

Yuri fixed him with a gaze as cold as the Siberian winter. “If you are referring to Alexi Smirnov, commander of VIII Corp, I am fully aware of the situation. He is out of our reach now.”

“I don’t think so.” Dedenko replied.

Saratov looked up. His head had been buried in his hands, lying on the table. “Alexi knows all of our plans in Romania. He knows exactly where we plan to strike. It would waste at least a week of our time if we had to re-organize our front. But that is what we will do.” He turned to Dedenko. “About the siege of Kaliningrad, how is that going?”

Dedenko had an expression of distaste on his face. “We lost 30,437 men, and 1078 tanks in a foolish assault on Kaliningrad. They lost only 45 of their heavy Catphract tanks, 70 light tanks, and maybe 1000 infantry. I have ordered the old commander sent back to here for an inquiry, and appointed General Viktor Novikov to that front. He promises that we will have that city in our hands by the end of the week. Their fortifications are already stretched thin in the north, and I have ordered 100,000 more Siberian reservists to the northern front, 20,000 additional tanks, and 300 new artillery batteries.”

“The tactical air war?” Yuri asked.

“Same old, same old.” Dedenko said. “We have a 2 v 1 numerical advantage in almost every dogfight or engagement. Doesn’t prevent us from losing 1.546 planes to every 1 of theirs. Still, hurts them more than us. The Eurofighter Mark III is far more expensive than a MiG 120 joint strike fighter, although it is also superior in every way.”
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by RedAkbar on 2008-02-19, 13:37

Sao Paolo, Brazil
City Square
Sunday, 28 January 2080
09:45 AM

“Citizens of the Phamaceutical States of South America! It is a great honour to adress you here, on the first day of this new era. I am your leader. I am your shepherd. I am...” he paused for dramatic effect, looking at the rapt faces of the assembled crowd, “Alvaro Noriega.”
He had planted some of his own agents amongst the masses assembled there, charged with creating a semblance of enthusiasm amongst the people. Noriega was not a popular man, and only through spending insane amounts of cash on bribes and threats was he elected. Fuck them. They are but cattle, a means to an end.

Several hundred metres away, in an abandoned apartment...

The assassin readied himself, looking through the scope of the rifle. Noriega was in the midst of his speech, using his considerable charisma to good effect. He would not do so much longer. This bullet has his name on it. The assassin zoomed in on his head, factoring in the swirling breeze. This had to be perfect. Alvaro Noriega had to die here, today. His finger tightened on the trigger...

Just then, some doves flew out of a nearby window, startling him. He swore. The rifle had moved, meaning he had to redo everything. God, why now...

“Before I go any further, my opponent, Mr. Fernando Ramos de la Cruz, wishes to say a few words.” Noriega backed away from the stand allowing his rival to step up to the microphone...

A split second before Noriega stepped away, the assassin pulled the trigger. The bullet meant for Alvaro Noriega tore through Fernando Ramos's neck, shattering his spinal cord and nearly tearing his head from his body. Panic erupted as people scrambled for cover, trampling each other. Noriega was instantly surrounded by his bodyguards and led into a nearby building. Angry soldiers started firing random shots into nearby windows, wounding and killing innocents as they ran into the crossfire. Nobody cared.

Staring at the twisted corpse of Fernando Ramos de la Cruz, the assassin knew he had doomed his country to the rule by a tyrant. Frantically he pulled his sidearm from its holster and put it against his temple. “Christ forgive me-” He pulled the trigger.
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by Raja Sagan the Caker on 2008-02-20, 08:07

May 1, 2080 (AH 1503)
Cairo

Hot air shimmered over bustling al-Qahirah, as the searing sun gently baked the ancient limestone walls and desiccated the gardens that sprawled around the city.

Mustafa watched from the high parapet of the Citadel as the mighty Nile drifted gently past, his grey eyes scanning the far horizons until they rested upon the Pyramids rising from a flickering sea, their reassuring permanence helping to ease his troubled mind.

The last four months had aged him visibly, his dark eyes had lost their youthful vigour even as his brown hair had begun to grey. Worry lines had etched themselves upon his brow, which seemed never to relax for long. His face now bore a hardness that had never been there before, his movements determined and precise where before they’d been open and relaxed. It did not help that he was now a virtual prisoner in this old, dark fortress – oh, how he longed to return to his family in the palace at al-Iskandariya.

With a heavy sigh he turned away and moved towards the audience room, his advisors would be waiting.

He moved out of the blazing sun and into the still darkness of a many-pillared hall that echoed with the sound of running water, he paused briefly to relish the refreshing cool, before continuing quickly past a still pool lined in cobalt and aquamarine. At the end of the hall several men dressed in white stood talking in hushed voices, at his approach they stopped abruptly and, turning to face him, bowed deeply.

“Salaam ya-Sayyid,” intoned the eldest as Mustafa settled into the waiting dais.

“Salaam al-Wazir,” he replied, nodding to each of his other four closest ministers in turn, “what business do we have today?”

From out of his robes, the Grand Vizier pulled out two sheets of paper, “these have arrived today, ya-Sayyid, a timely response would be prudent…” he handed them to Mustafa who took a moment to read them over.

“I see…you have, of course, read them over?” he asked, “good, what are your suggestions?”

His Grand Vizier stepped forward, “It would not do to go about making enemies of all, yet we can pick and choose our friends. For now the Europeans and the Russians bleed themselves dry fighting over nothing, worthless land – and neither is strong enough to confront us,” he paused, “at the moment we should find the middle path, later when one is sure of victory we can reap the spoils.”

“Shukran wazir,” replied Mustafa, bowing slightly, exactly what I expected he thought somewhat bitterly – the old guards that had served his father were venerable and respected (which made getting rid of them difficult), yet they were all so conservative, no wonder the Khalifat had begun to drift apart under my father. He turned to Halil, his Wazir al-Harb, or Minister of War, “and your thoughts, friend?”

Halil made a slight obeisance, but understood that as close friends they could speak as equals, “Saratov’s plan is preposterous, a ‘strike towards Istanbul’? Never have I seen such vague and simple plans disguised as operational policy, indeed it would bring us nothing but an inconclusive war with the EU…” he paused, lips pursed, “no, operational orders for the event of war with both states have already been drawn up and can be implemented within weeks if necessary – I suggest that we hold war games in Turkey and in the Black Sea to show our military might to both powers at a stroke. We reassure the Russians by violating the Turkish DMZ, and though we may upset the EU there is really nothing they can do about it…”

Bold, more bold in fact than anything Mustafa had been contemplating…and yet, oddly brilliant in achieving a balance between power projection and maintenance of peace. He gave his friend a big smile, and a rather warmer shukran than he had granted the Grand Vizier.

“But Amir,” interjected al-Hakkim, another one of these tedious old men, “it is too risky, we should stay at peace with our neighbours – war and sabre-rattling can bring nothing but death and misfortune!”

Mustafa turned a silencing glare upon his Privy Counsellor.

“No, wars can unite just as well as they can sunder, wars can bring wealth as they can take it, and they can bring glory as well as shame!” he said, his voice calm but menacing, “besides, we go not to war…yet!”

“Leave me,” he declared pointedly while looking towards his younger advisors, the signal for the elders to leave. Now he could have some proper open discussion he thought, as the Grand Vizier and the Privy Counsellor left the room haughtily.

“Halil, I agree that holding war games in Turkey would be beneficial, from there we can strike anywhere we please – at the same time we can appease Saratov, and the EU are too desperate for our goodwill to care about Turkish Demilitarization,” he turned to his Minister of State,

“al-Aswas, draft my replies. To Saratov, don’t agree to anything , but try to be conciliatory and suggestive of further military cooperation. As for Langevin, express interest in further economic cooperation and continued non-aggression in exchange for limited remilitarization of Turkey. Now, dress that up in diplomatic jargon and have it to me by evening prayer,” he gave his friend a big smile as he turned and left the room.

He faced the last two advisors, his Minister of War and his Minister of the Interior, “Now,” he breathed, “I would like to float you my idea on a possible way to enter this war with as big a bang as possible…”

The sun was a yellow-orange orb settling on the horizon behind the Pyramids, and the sunset call to prayer had just begun to echo across the city when Halil finally left the audience room – giddy with tense anticipation. In his hand he held the drafts of secret correspondences to Langevin and Saratov…


Messages:

To: President Saratov,
From: Amir al-Mu’Minin Mustafa II Masur al-Dawla

An unprovoked attack against the European Union would not be to our benefit at the moment, our ultimate objective is peaceful reconstruction – war now would violate our core policies.

We would, however, extend to you the offer of a non-aggression Pact, to be signed at a later date.

Additionally, we would take this opportunity to warn you that between May 20 – June 20 we will be holding War Games in Turkey and in the Black Sea.

May you go safely under Allah!

To: President Langevin,
From: : Amir al-Mu’Minin Mustafa II Masur al-Dawla

We agree that increased goodwill between our great states can bring only the munificence of Allah, to this end we accept proposals for increased trade and economic/cultural cooperation. Additionally, may we suggest a non-aggression Pact, for the Khalifat does not wish to become embroiled in the current … misunderstanding.

However, we would ask for limited remilitarization of Turkey as we are holding War Games there between May 20 – June 20, although no units will be carrying live ordnance – we would warn you of our peaceful intentions out of respect for your great state.

May we suggest a Conference in Malta at or around May 10-12 to discuss future plans?

May Allah smile on your endeavours!

_________________
IN THE NAME OF ST SEL, PATRON SAINT OF THE DEF!!!!

"I must have some booze. I demand to have some booze."
"I feel like a pig shat in my head."
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by Seleukos of Olympia on 2008-02-22, 18:31

2 May 2080

Pierre Langevin had a busy day. He expected to have a busy day, but it turned out a lot more hectic than he could have anticipated. He had just returned to his office after a long meeting with the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the defense minister and he had to wash up. Some of those people had been outdoors that day. They could be reeking with germs.

He only enjoyed a few minutes of quiet solitude before his secretary informed him that foreign minister Telma Agostinho had come to see him. He gazed ponderingly at the ceiling for half a minute before accepting her. He was still in that position when she came in.

“This is a historic day, you know” He said. “It’s one of the things a president has to get used to, I suppose. Making decisions that may alter the face of history – for better or for worse.”
“You are referring to the acceptance of Operation Karol - and what may come of it?”
“That and the conference with the Caliph. You can feel the forces of history shaping our world beneath our feet, can’t you? Can you feel what those intangible forces are leading to? Peace in our time? Even victory...”
“Even when we negotiate the non-aggression pact with the Caliphate, we won’t be able to pull any forces away to the north to assist in operation Karol. Our Mediterranean fleet will still have to be on alert during the Caliphate’s maneuvers in the Black Sea, and with Turkey being partially remilitarized, we’ll have to keep a military presence around Istanbul.”
Pierre was listening from far away.
“Yes, no immediate gains. Finland will be difficult. But it can be done. And it will be done! I know it.”

There was a pause for an uneasy minute.

“Did I call you here earlier?”
“Yes, mister president. You wanted to be briefed on the preparations for the Conference and on the Russian self-exiles.”
“If we make it into Russia – when we make it into Russia, we’ll have to have a legitimate Russian government on behalf of which we’ll be acting. Did you read the reports on the Russian Government in Exile Eddington set up?”
“Yes. There’s little of it we can salvage. They’re all either assassinated or severely discredited. Like Pavlov...”
“I remember him. Paedophilic bastard! You’d think in a state of war we’d be able to keep that off the press...”
“The best candidate we have is Boris Rodchenko, son of Viktor Rodchenko, former energy tycoon...”
“And presently deceased. Murmansk Sunset is not big on free markets.”
“Anyway, he is young and inexperienced, spending his time in luxurious parties, where he wastes away his vast inheritance on women and drugs.”
“He’s perfect! Arrange for him to meet me in a few days. If he can be trusted to not make a complete fool out of himself, we may even take him to Malta, to represent the Free Russians.”
“About Malta, you’ll have to reschedule your formal visit to Quebec. And we’ll have to work around the planned parliament sessions on the new emergency budget allocations.”
“We can do that. The non-aggression pact with the Caliphate is our greatest political target for this month. Parliament will accept it so fast that it will be decided before it is even announced. Only the conservative die-hards who think the Muslims will rise up and murder us in our sleep will oppose it. After that, it will be easy to justify any changes in schedule to suit our meeting in Malta.”
“So, we are agreed on the 10th of May then? It should be the best time for both sides.”
“Yes. Oh, and another thing.”

Agostinho had just turned to leave, and she looked back.

“When we make Rodchenko leader of the Free Russians, hint to him that he should look to the Russian population of the Baltic States as his initial power base.”
Agostinho smirked.
“Of course, mister president.”

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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by Aeraaa on 2008-02-23, 04:48

A monotonous noise broke the silence in the charred valley. A Cicada was flying just above ground level and became the sole evidence of life in that apocalyptic place. Only it was not the noisy insect, but the sturdy EU transport chopper, carrying a squad full of soldiers. Its destination was Bucharest. The once magnificent Romanian capital was now a huge gather of ruins. Russians got into the city trying to capture it and complete the conquest of the most important part of this Eastern European country. Elements of the 12th mechanized infantry division held it bravely against the first onslaught and with reinforcements coming to ease their position, the whole situation became a bloody stalemate. There in a hidden place was the captured Russian officer, Alexi.
The Cicada landed on a EU base in the outskirts of Bucharest. 6 soldiers and an officer, got out of the aircraft. Then a Captain approached their position:
-Pablo Lopez. Cavalry captain. 12 division, 8th …
-That’s alright captain. It seems you’re new to the area, for you must not give a full report in a battlefield. Now, where’s our man?
-In an apartment block in downtown Bucharest, sir. I know the exact location of the building, but we need to get there as safe as possible. This means we have to take a ride in an APC.
-That’s fine, Captain. Let’s go.
Soon all 8 men got into a Scythian APC. The driver started the engine and went for the location of interest. The vehicle went from narrow streets barely fitting it while completely avoiding squares or large roads. That was prudent, for these locations were always full of soldiers armed with deadly RPG’s. The General asked the Captain:
-What’s the situation here, Captain?
-From What I know, it’s a stalemate. Neither we have sufficient reserves to counterattack, not the Russians have enough heavy equipment to overrun us.
-And the morale of the troops? Any radiation problems?
-The morale is pretty high, because they know the Russians are getting desperate, and we didn’t tell them the exact amount of enemy strength. As for radiation, well since no nuke has strike Bucharest, we joke that it’s safer in the town than in the outskirts, which are full of depleted uranium…
-I see, captain. Keep up the good work.
After an hour the APC reached its destination. All men got out of the vehicle. An other officer came to their position
-Good to have you here sir!
-Great! Let’s go!
Suddenly, a high-pitched noise broke the brief silence in the area. Less than a second later, a bullet stroke the General’s head. The result was that a large chunk of his head was no more, while blood and pieces of skull were all over the place.
-Snipeeeeeeeeeer! Take cover! Lopez yelled!
-He must be in that grey building. Kill him!
-Two Jaguar vehicles that were in the area opened fire with their deadly autocannons. Clouds of dust and pieces of debris were flying from the building. A few seconds later an artillery barrage also fell into the building, which crumbled.
-The bastard is no more. But he made his death worth it. Damn a good man is dead now.
-Let’s go inside the building.
After going inside Lopez started shouting.
-He shouldn’t have come here. Now we’re all doomed. We must hope that only a few soldiers learned about that and continue our job. Then inform the headquarters that…
-Please come down to your senses, Captain. It is you who are doing bad for the morale of the men here.
The reply came from one of the soldiers in the General’s guard.
-What do you say, Private? Who do you think you are and you talk to an officer like that? I can easily have you shot.
The soldier laughed\
-Actually I don’t think so Captain. I know I have many vices as a man…
And the soldier put out his gas mask…
-…but carelessness is not one of them.
-General Aeropoulos! It is you! Thank God! But who was the man that was killed?
-That poor bastard was a double of me. He’s actually a civilian I saw in Athens that looked like me very much. That’s why he accompanies me on my trip to the frontlines. He shall be honored as a hero. Now, may we see our guest?
-Positive, sir!
The group went into a small hatch down the sewers. After walking for a few minutes they went inside a small subterranean room. There two Special Forces soldiers were inside and a man dressed with the Murmansk Sunset’s uniform, tied in a chair.
The two soldiers went on attention stance.
-At ease soldiers. It’s him?
-Positive sir!
-OK then. It seems that you are a person of great importance, commander. From our intel, we know that your friends will stage a full scale assault in the whole of Romania, but we don’t know the points were they will concentrate their firepower or were their crack units will be. We are not even sure of the exact strength of our opponent. So could you make our life a lot easier?
-Yes, I can. I will give you a great advise. Fuck you, you’ll feel a lot better.
-Now now Commander. No need to be rude. I know you think that we care about our prisoners and we care about the Geneva convention. This is partly true. While we do this for the simple soldiers and low-rank officers, the story is quite different for enemies of great importance. Be sure that we know many ways to make you sing.
-I am a man full of curiosity. I would like to learn them.
-Your wish will be fulfilled then, signed Aeropoulos. Let’s return to Pindus HQ.
The General decided to stay there for the night. He would find shelter in the forward headquarters in southern Bucharest. The next day, he would return to his lair. The forward HQ, was commanded by major general Marinescu, a native Romanian, determined to liberate his country.
A few hours later, a message came for the General. He read and seemed to be puzzled.
-Good news General? Marinescu questioned.
-Depends. The white collars seem to have done something smart for a change but it can prove a double edged knife. The only sure thing is that I have a lot of work to do once I get back…
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by Alexios Komnenos on 2008-02-23, 10:42

May 1st


There was limited time to prepare, but 100,000 additional men and 10,000 additional tanks would be added to the battle line come June 15th, and fresh supplies were being hurried to the front, hundreds millions of depleted uranium rounds being shipped to the front, as well as countless conventional rounds.

And the plans were urgently being finalized. Time was of the essence.

Saratov woke up around 10:00 today, had a light breakfast and hurried to the bunker. Yuri Ivanov and Dedenko were arguing quite loudly.

“We need the additional men!” Dedenko yelled. “Without them, the offensive will fail.”

“By committing them, you’re going to make any gains untenable!” Yuri said, pointing at figures on the walls behind him. “I’m not doubting we can’t achieve this, but think about the costs involved!”

Saratov shook his head as he walked into the room. “Yuri.” He said, as the Foreign minister looked up.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” He passed by the table they were standing at. Yuri looked like he had been slapped across the face by a dead fish.

“This plan is foolish in the extreme!” Yuri shouted back.

“What do you assume to know about military strategist, oil tycoon?” Saratov replied.

Yuri walked out of the room silently.

Kaliningrad…

The earth shuddered with the thunder of the artillery fire, the scream of missiles striking the enemy batteries, the rumble of tanks rolling through the bombed out ruins.

As the blasts of cannons filled the air and the clatter of helicopters drew ever nearer, Murmansk Sunset ground troopers slogged slowly through the ruins of bombed out buildings, careful of traps and land mines.

The gunfire in response to this advance was staggered now, as different batteries fell silent. The Russians, however, had a difficult time advancing. A single man with a HK rifle could destroy a squad in the chaotic urban environment. Officers no longer wore any grab different than normal soldiers, for fear of the snipers both sides had placed throughout the city. Every inch gained was a bloody one, even though they had barely reached the outer limits of the city.

To Mustafa II,
We agree to your proposal for a non-aggression pact. However, I am a little dissapointed you would not take further action, but I understand, and hold no grudge against you for it. I am always happy to continue our relations with our friends in the middle east.
Saratov
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Re: 2080 Story thread

Post by Volksie on 2008-02-24, 05:27

"Johnson has the coughing sickness, sir."

I nodded and dismissed the private. With my feet up on a chair and my rifle cradled across my lap i became lost in thought. I was biting at my nail casually when Simo sat down heavily next to me and snapped me out of my daydreaming.

"Got about a half day march to go, Blackie, sir," he said and took a swig from his flask. "Soon as we make radio-contact with base we'll get the car down to take Johnson back to the mountains quickly."

I nodded my approval and accepted the flask he offered to me. “Any sign of pursuit?”

“None, sir.” Simo said, scraping out some grit from under his fingernails with his knife.

“We’ll move in a half hour then,” I said and got out of my seat.

We’d set up our makeshift camp the night before and a pile of black soot sat in the middle of the ring of chairs where the fire had burned out many hours before. The group sat about lazily, the sun beating down on us mercilessly and the flies getting in absolutely everything. Our weeklong operation into OSPC territory had yielded little information and had only caused trouble.

I wandered over to where Johnson lay, a man beside him wetting his lips with drops of water. A coughing fit overcame him and reddish-brown mucus splattered on the ground. The dust was in his lungs. The man beside him wiped Johnson’s mouth and then looked up at me. He shook his head and I turned away from the dying man.

My eyes caught sight of Dave, standing and staring out across the dusty plains towards the horizon from which we had recently marched across. I walked across to him and asked what he was looking at.

“Look out there, sir,” he pointed. I squinted and followed the line of his finger. On the horizon a pillar of dust was rising.

“Simo!” I called out. “Get the binoculars!”

The men gathered around and we watched the small pillar of dust come closer. Simo handed me the binoculars and I peered through them.

“Shit,” I said and the men looked at me expectantly. “OSPC Rangers. Three of them. Get your weapons boys and try and find some cover”

There was a commotion as the men grabbed their rifles and Simo handed me mine in exchange for the binoculars. I looked around at the desolate landscape for any sign of cover but the plains gave no such reward. The patchy grass had been eaten by flocks of sheep and the rocks were too small to even crouch behind.

“Spread out, men!” Simo yelled as the Rangers came into sight and the men scattered, their rifle butts to their shoulders and the barrels pointed at the approaching cars. “Hold your fire!”

I cocked my rifle and waited for the Rangers to come in range. The three Rangers spread out into a V formation and the sound of their revving engines was clearly audible as they came in range. The gunners atop of the leading Ranger opened fire first and the men dived out of the way of the spray of bullets. The crack of returning rifle fire sounded.

Bringing my rifle to my shoulder I aimed at the leading Ranger and fired. The shot went through the front windscreen but did not hit any occupants. The second and third Rangers opened fire too and the men split into two groups as the rangers sped through our midst. I took aim again as the Rangers slowed down and OSPC soldiers jumped out of the backs. The shot flew true and the first man out fell. Other shots sounded as my men took down a group of soldiers before closing for close combat with their bayonets.

While my men fought the soldiers I reloaded my rifle and watched the Rangers as they returned to the melee. The gunner atop the first vehicle fell from his position as my shot took him in the shoulder and he collided with the ground with a sickening thud. The Ranger swerved and then straightened, heading straight for me. I took aim at the barely visible driver and trusted to luck more than skill. The bullet shattered the windscreen and the Ranger swerved wildly, careering away to the right.

The melee had ended with the OSPC soldiers dead on the ground and half of my men with them. The remaining men fired pot shots at the fleeing Rangers before they disappeared back over the horizon from whence they had come. Simo stood panting over a bleeding OSPC soldier, still breathing.

“What should I do with this one, Blackie?” He asked.

“He’s coming with us,” I said and ordered a quick move. “We’ll send people down later to deal with the bodies,” The men grabbed their meagre travel belongings and we turned towards the mountains, which spread out in front of us. “We’ll radio for the truck to get us back to base when we get in range.”
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Re: 2080 Story thread

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