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The Accidental Protege

Iggy Koopa
I\"m your accidental protege...
The gift, the blood, the thrownaway...\"










Since: 03-08-05
From: Marching on the city of Southern Cross

Since last post: 1167 days
Last activity: 1167 days
Posted on 06-07-05 06:52 PM Link | Quote
The year is 2026. Cyber-brain Transfer, or CBT is now a reality. The dream of immortality through a mechanical body is no longer a thought or idea. The process is not an easy one; it involves reading all of a person's thoughts and memories and scanning it onto a harddisk, then transferring it to a computer. It is long and painful, as it has not been perfected yet. Still, many humans have chanced their lives with the process. Although the survival ratio is less than good, immortallity is a luxery that many can now afford; but at what cost? Monetary value is of no importance, but physical appearence is. Only the rich can afford a human like android to house their cybernetic brain, but the poor have to rely on less becoming bodies; often part android and part pure machine, or all machine, sometimes with spidery legs or with multiple arms and deformities. There are over 17,000 mechanized humans in the United States, alone, and a new wave of racism is sweeping through the streets, like fire on gasoline. Cyberoids, or Cyberized Humanoids, as they are called are being attacked in the streets for being "sins against God". Most of these extremist racists are zealous reight-winged members of the Christian Right, who have grown substantially in the religious decade of 2010. Others are just intolerant people who see them as horrific abhoritions who will defile the Earth. At any rate, in 2025, the racism hit hit's highest point when a fertilizer bomb was detonated in a small villiange of the Cyberized Humans, killing 17 and injuring 25. The League of Cyberized Humans, founded 2 months before, conferred on the situation and agreed that these attacks will no longer be tolerated. A short time after the attack, the Cyberoids began to modify themselves with weapons of fierce power, such as machine guns, rocket launchers and flamethrowers, thus transforming themselves into weapons of war. 120 of them went on a rampage in the streets of New York City in July of 2025, murduring 287 racist humans, and injuring hundreds more. As the Cyberoids' numbers increased, so did the number of attacks, until the United States Government intervened and declared a state of war on all Cyberoids and their creators. Now, in the year 2026, the violence will peak, and the bloodiest of all wars is about to erupt.

***Chapter 1***

"Humanity is the problem; we are the solution!" read a propaganda poster depicting a man lighting the earth on fire. Explosions could be heard in the distance; even there, in the suburbs where nothing ever seems to happen, the Great War drew closer. It crept ever closer each day. Eventually, it will swallow the small villiage of the Cyberoids, causing more pain and suffering. It was a small villiage, quaint and out of the way. Two story buildings sparsly populated the Cyberoids' hoovertown-like settlement. They were mostly for communications and short range scanners; the inhabitants of the town used their vast expanses of knowledge to build the structures as well as several turrets surrounding the town for defense. The inhabitants were restless, but went about their tasks from day to day, not worrying about the war until it was on top of them. Without warning, a voice echoed across the plains that lay beyond the villiage.
"They're coming! Everyone hide! They're coming!" The voice was masculine, but it did not come from a human; it was from a TK Model, a super-smart war scout Cyberoid who was spying on that happenstances of the war. It was a larger, bulky robot, built like a large beetle with four large legs mounted on wheels. It was also equipped with two extendable arms in the front, and a large battery pack in the back. If anything, it vaugely resembled a large blue scorpion. As it whirled past the shrubs and rocks on the path to the Cyberoid Villiage, it continued to shout its message:
"The humans are coming! Everyone hide, or take cover!" It was too late. An explosion rocked the villiage. It came from a tank over beyond a ridge to the east. Screams filled the town, as the more defenseless Cyberoids fled. The scout, TK-421, hid behind a large pillbox until the battle was drawn farther away. The braver, more brazen ones with artillery stood their ground and readied themselves for the inevitable onslaught, prepared to give their lives for the good of their cause.

***Chapter 2***

The cigar must have been at least at half its length from when it was originally lit, as the gritty, hardened Sergent Johnson clenched it between his teeth. He stood his ground next to the tank that bombarded the Cyberoids' Village. A platoon of men stood behind the 37 year old General awaiting their commands.
"Men, here is where we show these metal-brained sons of bitches that they couldn't picked a worse enemy than the organic Human Race. We are gonna blow the hell outta these dumb bastards until we don't have anything left to shoot 'em with! Am I right, Marines?" In unison, the loyal humans answered, "Sir, yes sir!"
"Um, hm. Damn right, I am. Now let's move it out; double time!" The Marines, all dressed in their deep-green camoflauged uniforms and helmets, redied their assault rifles and charged into the fray. Johnson follwed suit, his gun armed and ready to blast away any Cyboroid scum he could get his hands on. As the soldiers charged into the sparly populated villiage, the stalwart Cyberoids began to retaliate with 12.7 mm cannons and rockets. Although they were few, the barrage of rockets a auto-fire from the robots proved to be effective against the squad of marines.
"Move it out, Marines! Go go go! The Corps. ain't payin' us by the hour!" shouted Johnson over the blazing cannons and explosions. His men nailed several of the Cyberoids by striking them in their analyzed weak points, most notably, the nerve centers that house the cybernetic brain. The target can be neutralized in several well-placed shots, redering the chasis unusable.
The tanks continued to pound the buildings of the village, and soon, they crumbled and fell. Fires quickly spread, and the numbers of surviving Cyberoids dwindled as the battle continued, but the marines were still at three quarters their original strength. Suddenly, chaos began to ensue as the Village Elder, FN-T90, ordered a full retreat in encoded transmission to all his sentry units. as the machines scrambled to evacuate, the Marines slaughtered them as they fled. There were few survivors, all in all.
"We cannot win this battle, my bretheren. Follow me!" exclaimed FN-T90 as he, TK-421 and the other survivors fled the village in a convieniant cloud of dust.
"What about the others, Elder?" asked TK-421 with concern in his voice. FN-T90 said nothing. His silence was all that was needed. "I see... What do we do now?"
"We are to rendezvous with the Mechanic. He says he's working on a project called "Apology". He is wise and old, and can help us; I'm sure of it."
Back at the village, Johnson and his men were standing a top a pile of demolished Cyberoid bodies, firing their guns in the air in victory.
"That's it boys. We got 'em running now!" The Sergent's self-admiration didn't last, however.
"Sir, we've intercepted a transmission. It speaks of something called "Apology"."
"Hmpf. 'Dear Humanity: We apologize for bein' mechanical bastards; we apologize for screwing you over, and we most definately apologize 'cause the Corps. just blew up our raggity-ass army!" The team responded with an 'Ooh-rah!'. "Forget it. Let's just get our ride and get back to base."


More chapters to come soon!
Also, sorry about the Halo references


(Last edited by Clockworkz on 09-06-05 09:30 PM)
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