WArPeD Chapter 1 part 3: by C3C Christopher R. DiNote
(The Doors: People Are Strange)
The Terrazo* was completely empty. The flag was flying, so
that meant that SOMEONE had to be awake in the cadet area. There
were no other upperclassmen walking to Fairchild Hall, so he knew
that he wasn't missing class. There were no frosh running the marble
strips of the terrazo (thank God, no "Good morning Sir, Tiger Ten,
Huzzah! Or any other stupid squadron greetings). Dino looked over to
his right scanning the sun as it rose over the 17 spires of the chapel.
Wait, looked to his right? Why was the sun coming up in the west?
Okay, Dino sighed, I'm going to pretend I didn't see that.
He adjusted his flight cap on his head, and instead looked at
the aircraft static displays. The F-16 and the F-15 were very cool,
reminding him just why he was willing to put up with all the bullshit:
22 semester hours of classes he hated, like math, and engineering,
chemistry, and so few of his loves history, poli sci, and humanities,
and CQ, the glorified "secretary" job of answering phones for up to
six hours a day. Not to mention officers who loved to write you up for
having your stereo up too loud, being late to class, haircut out of regs,
the list went on. The punishments were tours marching around a
terrazo block with a rifle for an hour, restrictions to base, loss of
privileges, probation's, you name it. Chris had been brought up for
using "offensive language," and he remembered the one debate
tournament where an officer tried to have the whole team
disenrolled for speaking in support of socialism and anarchy
during rounds. Never mind the fact that the team was just
COMPETING to WIN a round, there was also the fact that despite
whatever personal political beliefs any of them held, they all loved
their country and believed in what they were doing. Sometimes,
it was really difficult though. USAFA didn't tolerate free speech,
and disagreement with policy was met with indifference. It breeded
cynicism, a powerful force that made people stop caring about
themselves and their school, instead there was the new
acronym, IHTFP, which, was SAID to mean "I'm here to fly
planes," but really meant "I HATE THIS FUCKING PLACE."
However, Dino and his friends weren't quitting, and they
weren't giving up either. If this place did anything right, they were
all a lot tougher than when they first arrived. They knew when to "salute
smartly and carry on," despite how they felt. Dino meditated on this as
he stopped to look at his favorite plane at "The Hill" (USAFA) the
F-105D Thunderchief known as "Iron Butterfly." He wanted so badly to
fly that plane, but his eyesight wouldn't even let him NEAR a C-5, let
alone a fighter, to fly it. Navigator, yes, but Dino decided that he'd
rather go into Intelligence, maybe, if he couldn't get a waiver for UPT*.
Suddenly, he heard a high pitched whine, like jet engines
throttling up for a takeoff roll, the "Thud" was moving! So was the F-4
Phantom, both were rolling onto the terrazo, engines blazing and Dino could
feel himself being sucked into the intakes and
Gasped, as he realized he was still staring at the "Thud." He
breathed a few times, and wondered why the hell he blanked out
like that. Alright, I need something to eat, besides, if people are awake.
they'll probably be at Mitches'.
He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and entered Mitchell
Hall, the uh, dining facility.
(Machines of Loving Grace: Golgotha Tenement Blues)
No waiters (actually, that's not such a bad thing) no anybody.
"Wait asec, there ought to at least be some people here in
flight suits, going down to the airfield or something?" Nobody, except.
Yes. Jake and Deimbag (pronounced Dimebag).
Josh Deim and Jake Lacock, sophomores or "three degrees" like
Dino, were sitting and intensely concentrating on the malnutritious mass
of moving mess on Jake's plate. (Howzat for alliteration?) Mitchell Hall
food was notoriously toxic, but this was ridiculous.
"Hey, it's DiNoty!"
"Hey yourself Deimbag, what's going down?"
"Well, you know the sausage'll kill you like Akane's cooking,
right? But, they're moving this time."
Jake cut in "It doesn't really surprise me actually, it was
bound to happen sooner or later." Jake put a finger too close to one
of the monstrosities on his plate, which jumped and tried to bite it,
revealing a leech-like mouth of suckers and sawblade teeth. Jake pulled his
hand away just in time and jumped up from his seat, along with Deimbag.
(Fright Music from "Psycho")
Dino picked his jaw up off of the floor and stuffed his
eyeballs back into their sockets (with help from Mr. Tex Avery of course).
"Yup, Oh, you think that's weird. Me and Deim came in here to
make some new characters for this Star Wars campaign, by the way
Chris, are you still playing the Dirty Pair?"
"Shssssh! Dummy! That's Lovely Angels!" Fictional or not, he
didn't even want to _risk_ having those ,um, "ladies" going
medieval on his ass. God had a sick sense of humor, and he just knew
that....
"Uh, Jake, I think you'd better show him what's outside."
"Huh? Oh yeah, good idea Josh." Jake opened part of the blind
covering the far wall of the dining hall. There, out on the
horizon, but closing in fast over the Academy reservation, was an immense red
cloud, expanding outward, now blocking the sun.
"Holy shiznit, that fire in the sky." Dino whispered
(Deep Purple: Smoke on the Water)
"Oh my God!" Jake prayed.
"Yes?" It came from behind the terrified trio. It was Bucky,
aka C3C Mark Buchholz and the other members of the Cadet Wargaming
club, also known as Sigma Mu Delta, or more popularly, "Something Must Die"
due to their particularly ultraviolent and bloody style of roleplaying.
"Hey Chris, are you going on a debate trip this weekend, or are you
finally going to show up and play some Shadowrun, I love that 'Bubblegum
Crisis' scenario you've been running and WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"
Dino finally sprang into action, Military Arts and Science
class hadn't ruined his leadership abilities, just his attention span.
"it's trouble whatever it is. Bucky, go get Darryl and the rest,
bunker down over in A-Hall, I'll go get the CFA."
"The WHAT?" Chorused SMD.
"Debate team, I bet there's something in the Biotech files that
can explain this. Deim, go round up the frosh with Darryl,
Jake, come with me!"
(Pink Floyd: Run Like Hell)
"Hey Dino, what the hell does 'forensics' have to do with
debating? Does it have something to do with debating about dead
people?" Chris glared at Jake, eyes burning with secret knowledge
(Actually, he doesn't have the faintest clue either). SMD left Mitches' and
scattered, generally moving towards A-HAll, except for Jake and Dino both
of whom headed for Vandenburg Hall like bats out of hell. However, none
of them could outrun the cloud, which blew over them with the force of a
gale wind. The pressure was so strong it blew out every window in
the cadet area, blanketing the terrazo in a sea of broken glass, some
cadets fell screaming from 5th and 6th floor windows, impacting the terrazo
and ground levels with a wet thud. Then the sound began. Cadets came
screaming out of the stairways, covering their ears. The sound was
incredible, it was an evil cross of Alanis Morissette's chalkboard-scratching
scream and Minmei's sanity-destroying whine. Dino fell to the ground,
feeling as if his insides were being pulled apart and stuffed back together
again. He couldn't scream the pain was so intense. Then, staggering out
of Tiger Ten's squadron stairwell, he saw his friend C3C Jeremiah Dunham,
"Jerm." Jerm's eyes were blue, as in Dune-melange blue. Jerm opened his
mouth and, and a bright blue beam of energy the color of his eyes
obliterated the class wall* Jerm then collapsed on the terrazo as the
vertigo continued. Dino and the rest, mercifully, passed out as well.
Chapter 2: Another Brick in the Wall
"ARRRREEEEE YOUUUUU READDDY!" (KoRn: Blind)
"The first manifestation of what has now been termed "the Warp"
occurred at the U.S. Air Force Academy, an 18,000 acre reserve
in Colorado. It has since been revealed that similar 'outbreaks'
also occurred at NORAD under Cheyenne Mt, and at their analogues in
the U.K., Russia, China, and Japan. The emergence of physics and mutants
from elsewhere in the world has been much slower than at these sites,
where astral energy and nuclear/toxic radiation caused much more rapid
changes.
We now know that "the Warp" in a sense, bring the subconscious
to life. Individuals, greatest strengths and desires can be manifested as
'superpowers, as we saw in the mutated cadets in Colorado. The
collective unconscious of the masses even brought the 'fictional' worlds of
dreams and fantasy to life. Heroes, villains, the world _wanted_ them
to exist, so, they now do. The first example of this was the phenomenon
of 29 Feb 1997, a day that should not have existed, but did."
Excerpt from "The Day the Rules Changed: Psychic Powers, Anime
Physics and You" by Professor Charles Francis Xavier, Xavier Institute
for Gifted Students, Westchester, New York, 2007
(Pink Floyd: Comfortably Numb)
C2C Marshall McMullen tried to focus his eyes, but he still
couldn't see much. He tried to remember what had happened. He'd
been trying to chat Jess, his girlfriend in 10th squad, but his
computer wasn't working. Phil, his roommate, was bitching about not getting his
program to compile, when suddenly, BAM!, the windows and computer
screens blew out and he heard this noise, and now this. His whole life's
memories were playing like a slideshow for him. His childhood in California
and Montana, being "tormented" by his older brother Matt, cause
that's what brothers are for, winning the state debate championship in high
school twice, watching Matt's band "Chaotic Order" perform and then
hearing their first song on the radio, then going to the Air Force Academy.
He quickly brushed aside painful memories of BCT and the 4 degree year up
till he met his best friend and debate partner, Shawn Briscoe. Together
they became the S&M kids, inseparable, fighting like cats and dogs, making
up only to fight again. It was hard to believe that two such hot-heated
and emotional people could stand being friends. He remembered the
first practice last year, when he first met Dino and Jerm. Just
having finished basic training, they were still scared and nervous freshmen, it
took them almost two weeks to stop calling him "sir" during practice!
The "this is your life" rerun stopped suddenly, and Marshall
realized that he was standing in formation with his squadron.
Forty blocks of one hundred or so cadets each covered the terrazo,
bathed in a red mist.
(Pink Floyd: Empty Spaces)
Marshall couldn't move any muscles, he simply stood at
attention. He could, however, use his peripheral vision to make out Phil
just two ranks in front of him. Phil was the ultimate computer hacker,
what Dino had called a "gweep," whatever that meant. But right now, those
skills didn't count for much as Phil was paralyzed also. He swiveled
his eyes as best he could. Every other cadet seemed dazed, out of it, but
their eyes were replaced with a dull red glow. Then, the fog thinned a
little revealing a sight that would have caused Marshall to faint.
Surrounding the cadets on all sides he could see were thousands
and thousands of Honor Guard cadets. He recognized them
immediately.
They wore BDU pants, torso covered with an A-jacket. Instead of
the black upperclass beret, they all wore the black tin pot helmets of
freshmen members of the team. Except these helmets covered their faces
to the upper lip. There were no eyeholes, but a dull red glow burned
through the metal where eyes should be. They wore white gloves and they
held their M-1 Garands at port arms. They had bayonets at the end of their
barrels, and the weapons looked new and ready to fire.
"What is this?" thought Marshall. He was very worried about
Jess and all his other friends, Shawn, Phil, Baldy over in 15, and,
as if on some sick music cue, his squadron, 21st "Bad Ass Blackjacks"
began to march towards Mitches'.
(Pink Floyd: Young Lust)
Jake Lacock didn't know what was happening, but he didn't like
it. Like a bunch of clockwork oranges, the whole wing had marched,
under the "eyes" of the Honor Guard, which somehow now numbered in the
thousands. He just _knew_ that there couldn't be that many stupid freshmen
in 2000. (They call freshmen Honor Guard training "Varsity BCT" cause
they get the crap beat out of them EVERYDAY). But these guys were wrong.
Instead of any squadron patch he knew, a red cobra hood graced the left
side of their chests. They wore no name tapes on the right side of their
jackets. The Honor Guard shoulder patch was the same, roughly shield-shaped
with crossed rifles over a sabre, but it now bore the name "Imperial
Guard" on these "cadets'" right shoulders. There were no class years on
their left shoulders.
(Pink Floyd: In the Flesh)
Jake heard the loud blast of electric guitars and bass. As
one, he and the rest of the cadet wing looked up to the "staff tower"
platform of Mitches. Standing there were more Imperial Guardsmen and
women. Also, there were, waitasec. Those looked like those BU-12C combat
boomer things from Dino's copies of "Bubblegum Crisis." A pair of those blue
humanoid monsters flanked the podium and microphone. They also wore the
COBRA insignia on their bio-mechanical chests. Flanking them were
four cadets he knew and hated with a passion for their evil "toolishness*"
and damn self-righteous, superior attitudes. Cadet 1st Class Sean P.
Bradly, an evil smirk on his face. He wore an Imperial Guard uniform with
a black beret, as did C2C Paul A. Sexton, but their were no prop and
wings on their berets but a silver cobra head. Together they were the
most feared trainers-of-freshmen and soulless stract muthas who ever lived.
Their evil was legendary as they trained freshmen, upperclassmen, and
their own classmates for "not caring" and "reg violations," and for not
having their hair cut so short it violated real Air Force regs! At their
sides were C3Cs Tim Rezac and Tony Franks, two Honor Guardians from Dino's
squadron. Whatever Guard was up to now, it sure was a hell of a lot more
than raising, lowering the colors and drill competitions, that's for sure.
At the point in the music where the singing should begin, a
tall man in a peaked cap walked onto the staff tower. He wore a
patch over one eye and his face was criss-crossed with long scars.
His uniform was covered in more medals than Jake had ever seen.
He wore jack boots and carried a riding crop. Fearless Leader paced
the staff tower and sang with the music:
"So ya thought ya might like, to go to the show?
To feel the warm thrill of Confusion, that cynical cadet glow?"
"Well I've got some good news for you sunshine, your
Commandant's not well he stayed back at the
hotel, so he sent us a long as surrogate leadership and....
We're gonna find out where you cadets really stand! Are there
any free-thinkers in the wing tonight? Get 'em up against the wall!"
Jake would've cried out if he could as several members of the
Sabre Drill team, including his friend and squadmate, Nate
Davidson, complied.
"That girl there she looks like a reg breaker to me! Get her
up against the wall! That one's out of uniform! That one's broken
the Honor Code! Who let all of this riff-raff into the room! I'm sick
of your cynicism, it's spread like a rot! Now that I've got my way, I'll
have all of them shot!"
With a slash of his arms, guardians lowered their rifles, and
red laser fire cut down over fifty cadets. A cheer went up from
most of the cadet wing. Fearless Leader's thick Germanesque accent returned.
"Now my loyal troops, you are a force multiplier! Round up the
SMD and the CFA and their friends! I want them destroyed, they
refuse to conform. They don't love their nation, their leaders and you.
Destroy them now, or I'll have you shot too!"
A boomer ignited it's jets and floated down front of C4C
Jessica Traffecanty. It opened its mouth and prepared to fire its
particle cannon.
Chapter 3: Massive Retaliation
"Anger. Hostility towards the opposition." (Downset: Anger!)
"No!!" Marshall screamed and a blue force dome suddenly
covered Jess, absorbing the boomer's weapon fire. Within the dome, Jess
could move and she was pissed off. She was very grateful for the
rescue here, but she was not the "damsel in distress" type. She got very
angry at those bastards for killing cadets and now trying to kill her and
her friends. Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, instincts
took over, and she threw her hands over her head into a dimensional pocket
pulling out a VERY BIG mallet and with all her might, proceeded to bash
the living hell out of the boomer and his reinforcements, screaming,
without really knowing why, "Boomer no baka! Boomer no baka!" The first hit
gave the boomer a cartoony "duh?" look on its face, the next dozen or so
hits turned it into a pile of scrapp metal and biosynthetics.
Marshall's outburst had free him and the other cadets to move,
Fearless Leader's control was broken as four thousand very
pissed off cadets turned on their captors creating the largest mosh pit the
world had ever seen.
(And Now, Dino's Combat Metal Mix Medley: Featuring The Great
Sounthern Trendkill and Fucking Hostile by Pantera, Fight Fire
With Fire and Battery by Metallica, Wish by NIN, Devilman by White Zombie,
Blind and Twist by KoRn, and Refuse/Resist by Sepultura!)
Marshall was running to Jess's side as fast as he could,
controlling the force field with his mind to take out boomers,
guardsmen, Cobra Vipers, MI-66 Black Magic androids, everything they threw
at him was getting demolished. Elsewhere in the hall, Dino had
regrouped with Jake, Bucky, Darryl, and Brian Stahl. They were using anything
they could lay their hands on, chairs, water pitchers, anything to keep the
Imperial guard in hand to hand and not let them fire their weapons at
such a close range. So far they'd been pretty successful. But they were
trying to avoid sabre drill. Instead of the standard, harmless cadet
sabres, their blades glowed with energy and they were claiming many a valiant
cadet.
Up on the staff tower Fearless Leader psychically shouted an
order to his subordinates: <"No you fools! Set your weapons for stun!
COBRA needs these 'resources' intact!"> Damn, he hadn't expected that
some of the cadets would be able to use their power so quickly! He
needed to concentrate, so he could regain control over the cadets! This
was supposed to be an "inaugural" ceremony to cement his control and
kill his opposition, the only cadets who had not succumbed to his
insidious psychic encroachments over the past few weeks, promising an end to
cynicism and wrongful disenrollments, and, most importantly, more PASSES!
The cadets were so stir crazy from never being able to leave, their minds
were easily brainwashed. After the implants are in place, controlling them
would be simple, but now, he needed to focus all of his power on
pacifying them.
Josh Deim couldn't believe his eyes as he saw Nate Davidson run
a cadet through with his sabre and turn to look at him. No
emotion or pity in those eyes, just a cold stare that shouted "I'm going to kill
you" at large volumes.
"Nate for God's sake snap out of it!" Josh dodged a slash.
Nate thrust and Josh leapt twenty feet into the air and did a
backflip to land on a table very far from Nate. "How'd did I do that?" It seemed
though that Nate was just as agile now, landing about 10 feet away.
Nate stood there, his sword ready and smiled. Josh then noticed the
Imperial Guardsman who was trying to butt-smash his head with his M-1.
Josh, moving quicker than he ever would've thought possible flipped the drone
over his back and grabbed the rifle. He sighted it at Nate, noticing the
selector switch which read "stun," and flipped it. He didn't stop to
think about the fact that M-1's shouldn't HAVE selector switches, but he
squeezed the trigger....and, nothing!
Nate laughed. "Ha ha ha. You know how guard always bitches
that nobody else should even TOUCH their weapons? Looks like they're
getting their wish!" With that, Nate lunged. Josh used the rifle to
parry Nate's thrusts and tried to develop some sort of offense using the
bayonet and solid wood stock of the rifle.
"Nate, come on, you're not a tool! Don't join them!"
Nate stopped for a sec and shook his head. Josh used the
opportunity to deliver a butt-smash to Nate's face, that dropped
Nate to one knee, and then to the floor. "I'm sorry bro'." Josh
dropped the rifle, and removed the sabre drill beret and from Nate's head.
The beret wasn't felt, it was armor, as was the jacket and pants!" Josh
careful removed the now metal sword from Nate's grasp as he returned to
consciousness.
"Josh, what am I doing?" Nate had a very nasty cut across his
face, from below his eye to the corner of his mouth, it would
probably leave a scar.
"Never mind, we gotta get out of here!"
Dino had been holding off the Imperial Guardsman for a while
now, and neither he nor Dino were giving any quarter. A misstep, and
dino took the bayonet in left thigh. That sent Dino beyond pissed off into
seeing red! Dino was like the Hulk, the more you hit him, the more
pissed off he got, and the more pissed off, the stronger! He brought his
hands together, palms facing out and yelled "HADOKEN!" The fireball
sent the Guardsmen back about ten feet, the weapon, burned to a crisp.
Dino ran towards and jumped into a spiraling uppercut Dragon punch at the
bastard's chest, "SHO-RYU-KEN!" When he came down, he saw the huge hole
he'd made in the chest armor, and he began to pick splinters out of his
cut and bleeding hand. While he was doing this, memories began to flood
back. He remembered the school back home, the Hwa Rang school of Tong-Su
Do, Master Bird his teacher, Dave, and the blond American shotokan student,
Ken Masters, and his friend, a Japanese known only as Ryu. They
taught him to do that. But, they couldn't have, they were just some videogame
and now manga/anime characters. His memories were changing, no his
whole past was changing, as if, history was rewriting itself to accommodate the
remarkable changes he was going through, for instance, now, he remembered a
rival school, the transplanted from Japan "Anything Goes Martial Arts"
Dojo, and that cute redhead, Ranma.
So many cadets had now fallen, most of them stunned, not only a
few worse than that. It was just the CFA, the SMD, and a few
other strong individuals left standing against a whole horde of enemies.
Fearless Leader spoke from above.
"You are defeated renegades! My forces have you surrounded,
you cannot leave this building! When your friends awake, you will
find them not so friendly anymore!" Then, he began to sound very
Borg-like.
"Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated into COBRA!"
The survivors grit their teeth. The full meaning of the Code
of Conduct was hitting them now, "I will never surrender of my own
free will, if in command I will never surrender the members of my command
while they still have the means to resist." The horde aimed various
blasters and Cable-sized Liefeld guns at them.
"Do you surrender? This is your last chance!"
Marshall couldn't create a force dome large enough to protect
all of them, he looked back at Shawn, who had been severely injured by
a light-sabre slash to the abdomen. Shawn was in a lot of pain,
and breathing hard, and maybe about to panic.
Fear. Shawn was hurt and he was afraid, he needed to escape,
they all needed to escape, if he could just, concentrate.
Fearless Leader slammed his fist into the railing as the
defiant cadets vanished with a flash.
"VERDAMMT" Oh boy, Cobra Commander was going to have a field
day with his ass.
End of Chapter 3!