Post Sat Oct 21, 2006 6:15 am

Apocolipse: A Battlefield 2142 Fan Fiction

I dont no if im going to be shot for posting a story bout game other than ff. But im writing this story on it, and i think yall might like it. Try and Bear with me on the Russian accent stuff. [hey, i dont no russian and babelfish's only translation was in russian text, so i, sorta, made some words up...


December 24th, 2143
Somewhere outside Moscow, Russia

The Agent buried his hands deep into his pockets, fighting off the cold Russian Winter. As a child, he used to enjoy the winters. So much so that he would take his coat and gloves off and make snow angels in shorts, and threw snowballs with his bare hands, relishing the bitter cold. That of course, was long, long ago. His childhood had few good memories left. He was 13 years old in the year 2106. 2106. That year nagged at him, and haunted him.
The young 13 year old let the snow fall thru his fingers, rubbing the cold flakes on his palms. “Bobby! Get your things quickly! We must go now!” The pre-teen sighed, his warm breath steaming in the air in front of him, like an old steam train. He turned around, seeing the menacing 500foot tall Ice wall only feet from his house. His play set had been caught up in the wall only days before. He tear rolled down his cheek, part of it dripping into his mouth, the salty taste rolling onto his tongue. Another tear rolled down his cheek, dropping to the ground. Crack, shhh! The child didn’t even bother to look down. He had heard and seen it a million times. The tear turned to ice before it hit the ground, a small ice crystal shattering at his feet. His family, like so many other families in northern England, was fleeing from the giant ice wall working its way down from the north arctic Sea. He dropped down his duffel bag holding his most prized possessions.
“Bobby! We must go now!” He mother called behind him. “No! I won’t go!” He cried. “I won’t leave our house! I won’t leave!” he screamed, not turning around to face his parents. “Bobby! Get in the transport now! You will die a slow and cold death if you don’t…” “I would rather die than leave my home!” The snow crunched behind him under the cold black boots of a British National Guard soldier. “Ma’am, we must go now, you’re the last ones in this area.” Bobby’s mom buried her head in her gloved hands and sobbed. “Corporal, could you help me with my son?” Bobby’s dad quietly asked the soldier. “Yes, we must go now.” Bobby’s father placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “It’s time to go son.” “NO!” he screamed his tears shattering at his feet. His father grabbed him, along with the soldier and pulled him into the air transport. “NO! NO! NO LEAVE ME HERE!!!” he cried, the shattering crystals piercing the soldiers boot. Blood barely oozed from the soldiers foot and froze on the snow below, turning it a dark red, as the soldier cursed. Bobby throw his shoulder into his dad’s stomach and broke free. The soldier grabbed for him, Bobby attempting to smack the soldiers face, but to no avail. His visor helmet absorbed the impact and he grabbed him, putting him into the transport. The doors sealed as they hopped into the transport, sealing Bobby away from his home forever. “NO!!!” he screamed.
“NO!” the agent screamed. The agent slapped his knee, angry at himself for letting his emotions get a hold of himself. He needed to focus on his mission. That was long behind him, and he had a job to do now. An undercover job. “Comrade, is the Titan comving along on scheduvel.” a thick Russian accented man in a Pan Asian Coalition’s general’s uniform asked. “Da comarade. Evezehing es on scheduvel.” “Good comarade, then I may assume you shall ve at ze launching ov vit tomorrow?” “Da, again comarade General Pavlov. “Veye well comarade, I shall see you tomarow.” With that, the general marched away, the hard packed snow crunching below his feet. The agent waited until he was out of earshot and than got to work. He quietly stepped through the maze of cargo containers and to a nearby console. “Spracknetchyva Deska Vol.” he called as he stepped into a small elevator, ordering it to the massive Titan’s control bridge. The agent’s ears popped at he got higher and higher into the dark, night, the Titan silhouteed errily against the half moon. The doors opened in front of him, revealing a control bridge. He quietly put an EMP device into the elevator and ordered it to the cargo bay and setting the device to self destruct after activated. He stepped into the orderly bridge, a Russian commander sitting in the command chair, overlooking the Bridge of the war machine with pride. “Shing won, ho ly shing hiya.” A Chinese engineering officer called, studying his blue console. The agent knew every language spoken in the PAC, and knew exactly what he was reporting. The EMP grenade had temporally disrupted the cargo bay doors, creating a distraction as planned. “Stravnetcha ovna.” The commander ordered him to go check it out. The Chinese engineer stepped into the elevator, the doors closing automatically behind him. “Ivancha Loncka.” The agent said, saying he would take over the console until he was done. The commander cocked a brow and gave him a puzzled look. The agent pulled out a card, showing his ID and what appeared to be a degree in engineering. The commander nodded, than going back to the report pad’s he had in his hands. The agent quietly set himself down at the console’s chair, typing in a computer code. “Computer” he typed. “Activate code Morse one.” АКТИВИРОВАНО soon came up on the screen. The agent carefully started tapping the dash and dot keys on the keyboard in a rhythmic pattern. He had to get this code perfectly right. The fate of Western Europe might depend on it.

When all else fails, tell them you want world peace.