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|More from MandalorianFettBoba||Action/Adventure||PG-13||Here||No update page|
December 8, 2015
Klaxons rang, alarms shrilled. Sirens emanated harsh discordant sound waves warning of an impending Nuclear Attack. Soldiers ran across the grounds of Fort Kiowa, home to the Air Force's Pacific Early Warning Center. Amidst a chaos, a strapping 22 year old Lieutenant rushed to find the nearest shelter.
His name was Andrew Westfield, a veteran of the Anchorage Reclamation campaign in which his platoon had led American forces to victory against the Red Chinese Forces. Andrew pivoted on his feet, his power armor's enhanced sensory outputs detecting the sound of multiple incoming Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles. The young officer stood helpless as multiple mushroom clouds formed above his hometown of Seattle. For just a momentary second he was blinded by the flash of a Thermonuclear detonation. Then the shockwave hit sending him flying backwards at extreme speeds, his vision began to blur, until everything went black...
Westfield awoke to a pinging sound on top of his chest, he regained consciousness as he opened his eyes. Two children, clad in Green shirts and tan shorts were playing on top of him. He clenched his fists as his leg servos regained their balance as he stood up. A bright sun poked through the small number of clouds that dotted a pristine baby blue sky, the kids ran off in fear at the sight of a giant metal man giving Andrew a moment to contemplate what had just happened.
"What the hell?" Westfield said as he scanned the surrounding flat steppe.
He checked his suit functionality for any damages or malfunctions in his suit's systems. Andrew noticed scorch marks on the left side of his power armor, scorch marks reminiscent of a gamma radiation strike. Assuringly, also checked his built in Geiger counter. The results shocked him tremendously.
"150,000 Rads!" Westfield exclaimed, shocked at this newfound discovery.
"I should be dead! What in the world?!" Andrew spouted as he tried to requisition the thoughts of what had just happened.
"Those kids took off as soon as I woke up... There's bound to be some sort of settlement around here somewhere." The Lieutenant quickly analyzed.
"They headed Northeast, that's the way I'll head as well I guess." The young soldier sighed as he ran off to the Northeast, leg servos in full gear, and AX-99 Laser Gatling Rifle in hand.
30 minutes later, Andrew arrived at a rural farm, strange chicken-pig hybrids stood fenced in an enclosed space, the smell of Rice filled the air, Andrew grew inquisitive. He approached closer to the farm. Westfield moved towards what appeared to be the Farm's owner.
"Excuse me sir do you know where I am?" Andrew politely asked the man. The Farmer turned around and dropped his rake, his face paralyzed with fear.
"Look we already paid this week!" The Farmer reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag filled with a coins.
"Just take it and leave us alone!" The man shouted shielding his face. Andrew put his hands up into a not threatening posture before speaking.
"Relax Sir, I'm not here for your tribute." Westfield calmly assured the farmer. He slowly lowered his defensive stance.
"Then what do you want?" He nervously asked Andrew. "Just directions man calm down." Andrew said mildly chuckling. He lowered his arms and began to interrogate the man.
"Which jackass is stealing your money for somcalled tribute anywho?" Westfield interrogatively questioned the farmer.
"The Rough Rhinos, a Marauding group of Fire Nation troops who extort the local farmers and workers. If we don't pay up, they'll kill me and my family. They're despicable humans, if you could even call them that." The Rural Man explained to Andrew. Andrew readied his AX-99 into a combat ready state.
"I'd like to have a word with these so called Rough Rhinos..." Westfield stated threateningly...
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