This is a story based on the TF universe, extrapolated into the 22nd century. This has absolutely no base in TF2 since there is no information available at the this time, so all technology and weapons are basically pulled out of thin air as i go along. I believe that i have sufficently included all the TF1 clases or equivalents except for a spy which has no use in this story. The story is introduced and ended by a 22nd century military historian.
02/12/2102
The general populace now'a'days seem to think that the 'commander in cheif' is nothing but a figurehead. But after the holocaust of 2067, the millitary deemed it nessesary to hard code the launch codes for the remaining payload into one persons DNA. I cant imagine the mistake of this dicision if cloning technology hadn't been destroyed in the war. But then again, I cant imaging a reason for trusting that one person with the power to destroy whats left of the world in the 1st place, unless you want to believe the rumors. It is said, that a group of X-Files'esqe (a quaint early 1990's show renound for its comedy value) agents launched the initial responce to Europes attack on newly annexed Japan. But thats beside the point, the responce from the rest of the world coudn't have been predicted. Altho large scale nuclear weapons had been abandoned almost 40 years before the war, biological warfare had developed into something beyond comprehension. In the end, the worlds population lie either slowly mutating into Canada's solution to the WW3 problem... or dead. The thing about bio's is that they don't go away. Nukes have half lifes and fallout and blast radiuses, scientists convinced the military would destroy everything organic on the face of the planet. What they coudn't realize was that the bio's would be absorbed by the vegitation and fundimentally change things without any noticable effect. Mabye the Canadians knew that, mabye they just got lucky.
The time had come to 'display' the president again.. so they were told.
A 22 man team made up of the best of the best, how the other Areas could spare these poeple i dont know. These were the hard core soldiers. The president needed to be transfered to a deep-earth mining city under Lake Michigan to boost population morale, and to get his precious bio-codes to a more secure location.
The following is the log of Corporal Ben Crowski, communication officer.
: Log entry :
: 04062102140300 :
: Corp. B. Crowski, Comm
Officer :
God, its great to be away from the fucking brass. Its about time I got a nice cushy mission like this. They say that we're going through the most dangerous area in the world, but HAH, i've seen shit that'll make their nut hair turn white and it sure as hell aint on this continent. They decided that the pres needs to make his presence felt at Area 4... gee, i wonder why, those fucking Canuks always making things difficult. So off we go in the latest in air tech packing the latest in ground tech and med tech, the 'best of the best'. But it seems as i get to know these guys its becoming the 'most psychotic in the asylum'. The pres could have been there already and we could have been making it easy in the marvel of the Area 4 (better known as Deep-Core 4), if it hadn'y have been for 2 months of breifings and meetings and useless training. Today we leave this hell in the desert, training 14 hours a day in full UN-AIRCONDITIONED battle armor is just tonnes of fun for the whole family. The brass decided that we had to train for all the worst case scenarios. We could have been traveling with almost 60 people, but alas, 22 it has to be. Well i guess my next log will be from DC4. God its nice to have a walk in the park every once and a while.
: Log entry :
: 05062102023200 :
: Corp. B. Crowski, Comm
Officer :
I have a couple of minutes put my head in order and get some of this shit down. About 2 hours after we left the base, only 45 FUCKING MINUTES AWAY!!! We were hit by something big, it took out most of the cockpit and right wing. Probably the only thing that saved us was that fact that we were 38000 feet up and had some time to get everyone into the capsule. The trip down was one whore of a ride, The president actually had to be sedated or he would just have ended up hurting himself. We landed in a small valley about 150 clicks outside DC4, and they were fucking waiting for us! I'd like to know what the fuck they hit us with in the 1st place, but thats something i dont have time to go into right now, i need to get down whats happened in the last 12 hours.
The force that was waiting for us when we landed was quite substantial and the battle ended up being almost anarchy. Admiral Costings assigned me, Brooks and Morrison to dig in and protect the president at all costs, the others had the oh so fun task of securing and expanding our perimiter. The weaponry that the Scroggs had brought up alot of questions in my mind, what the fuck have those Canuks been doing up there all this time? We wiped them out in a little under 4 hours, securing a 1/2 click perimiter and only loosing 4 men in the process. The admiral announced that the total body count was somewhere in the 90's, and thats not including the ones that were simply vaporized by the C-15 packs strung up by Briggs and his demo team. I was able to bring up Area 22 on my radio (thank god we hadn't abandoned all nuclear tech, if it wasn't for the power that little generator provided we would have been lost) and confirm our position. After the perimiter was secured, and Manson and Greggors had done a full med sweep of the squad, the admiral got in contact with A22 again and arranged an evac for us. Unfortunatly command wansn't willing to pick us up where we were, even with the president in tow. 8 clicks away was an old surface bunker with a landing pad, relative safety... 24 hours.
It took about an hour get a plan together and plot a path to the base. We broke camp and set out. The rangers were told to stay within secure UV comm distance and that saved us alot of trouble initially. We got about 3.5 clicks and then we lost contact with Fenwik. We stopped for almost 40 minutes trying to find him, but ended up choosing priorities since it had already taken us 5 hours to cover this small distance. The scouting distance that the UV had allowed us had just lost us a man...
It had to be less then 2k out from that position when we were hit again. We made a tight perimiter with all the really heavy artillery doing most of the work. Those lazer gattlins sound pretty useless, heavy and slow, until you see them in use. That landscape will never be the same, and most likely never will most of the men. I've seen some gorry deaths in my time, but what happened to those Scroggs once those 4 heavy lazer gattlins were hooked up to the generator was something to give little children nightmares. The amazing thing is that the Scroggs only ended up firing a couple of rounds into our ranks. Henders took a hit through the armor that ended up being nothing but a slight flesh wound, but nobody else took as much as a scratch.
The rest of the trip to the base was really quite uneventfull, except for the simple fact that once we got into sight of the base we knew something was wrong. The whole place was lit up like an old time christmas tree. This is a place that hasn't been occupied by a major force since the war. Sure, we can keep it out of Scrogg hands, but they've never really sent alot of people after it so we've never really broadcast that it exists. Right now there's spotlights scanning the surrounding hills, all the radar beacons are going at full force, and goddamnit if any millitary commander i know would broadcast his presence like that. They have the fucking base and they know were fucking comming. 12 hours until evac and we have to take over a most likely heavilly fortified base and still protect the president.
Fuck. Lets just kill the bastard right now.
: Log Entry :
: 05062102064400 :
: Corp. B. Crowski, Comm
Officer :
I believe that the only thing that saved the pres was the simple fact that it was one of our own bases that we were invading. I was able to download the scematics of the base from the A22 databanks with my comm equipment into the admirals tactical computer, and from that we had a plan. The heavy weapons would be left with a small group (There were only 17 of us at this point plus the pres) and Briggs set up quite the tripwire perimiter. The admiral decided on speed and accuracy over brute force. 3 of the men were issued high caliber sniper rifles and portiable sonic dampening feilds and told to take out the outer defences of the base. Given exact scematics the snipers were able to get into positions of maximum damage... altho it really didnt help alot.
The Scroggs had had the base for quite some time already without actually letting anyone know about it. They must have kept a small group of people who kept up the facade of a US controlled base while slowly building up a supply of our own equipment. Some of the men noticed a weird abundance of construction equipment (nowadays anything more then a front end loader or a backhoe is considered abundant), but there was no sight of what they may have been working on. Something that was obvious tho was the new armorments on the outer wall.
At around 4 in the morning, when we hoped their defences would be the lightest and we could simply sneak in and take the base without much fuss, the admiral gave the snipers their signal and the fun began. The perimiter of the base was actually less then lightly defended. But then again, with half a dozen new 75 caliber 'man eater' turrets surrouding the base, it dosent take a whole heck of alot of people to chew up a whole squad and make the landscape into some sort of strip mining operation. The snipers were able to take out 2 of the turret operators and seriously wound one other before the spotlights hit them. Its something to see one of those guns go into action, with an almost 7 second wind up, it reaches a velocity fast enough to spit out almost 9000 rounds a minute. The snipers were there one moment, then their positions were just clouds of blood, gore, and the surrounding landscape. At that point the plan changed to something we had all been hoping woudn't be called for. One of the low impact nukes had been salvaged from the plane wreck, and an engineer had modified the payload to fit into a standard issue rocket launcher. We pulled back about 100 meters from the ridgeline, and sent one of the rangers out with the rocket launcher. Rangers aren't really trained with rocket launchers, but with the fire and forget tech A22 had developed, it didnt matter a whole lot.
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