Second Crusade: Operation M-019

The War to End All Wars.
The overstatement of the millennium.
It was bloody and violent, to a then unimaginable degree. But as was expected by many, another followed, and then more, each far greater and more deadly than that before them. Humanity lost its basic instincts and needs and violence took control, the need to dominate. Even now, in 2154, most humans hardly remember what it was like to live without war.

So much time, money and research has been spent adapting warfare to yield better, more atrocious results. New tools of combat, better weapons of war, and devices that can yield unimaginable horrors, those are what now rule the world.
Civilians, scientists, politicians, all know war. All remember war. While most humans live in the safety of the big cities, behind great walls of brick and steel, others live almost their entire lives never seeing the city lights. In the plains of war, there’s little but ash, barren waste and burning rubble.
Warfare is about destruction now, not expansion.

In 2052, a conflict known as the Second Crusade was unveiled to the people. While no physical contact had been enacted during the war before then, forces were now firing on each other, and casualties were appearing. The promises made by the Great Powers was that no innocent man, woman, or child would experience the savagery of war.
And to this day, that promise has been kept.

War has spread all across the world, and is waged in almost every single continent, but thanks to the works of the Great Powers, it has been detained, to only wage in certain countries and over certain borders. The Southern Americas, Western Asia, and Eastern Europe hardly resemble their lands of history now, burnt and scathed, and damned.

It’s hard to think in the space of ten years we turned the economic world into one mass being, and managed to diminish the expenditure problems that were turning the merchant conflicts into a financial war, and then not even five years later implement a mass world law code, and yet for over fifty years we’ve been unable to anything to halt the violence of our mentalities.
Perhaps that’s why I’m called a Pure Human.

---

“Gerniov, get your ass over here.”

The world was as brilliant and bright as any. The long, pale silver walls arced around in brilliant luminescence of the shimmering lights above.
Down the hall, a small number of men and women moved in opposing directions, each casual, and calm, as they headed to their destination.
Some carried with them vast banks of knowledge, plans and ideas unheard of and unknown beyond their own circles, and perhaps never to be known by any others; some carried instead knowledge of the cybernetics, keen to advance and change the implants as best as they could, a common goal amongst the people of the globe.

And then there was one, alone, carrying knowledge of a war that his race doesn’t remember, in countries they don’t know. That’s what his unit specialized in.
Liam Albach, the Head Engineering Operator in a top secret activities group, had relayed to the lone man, and a few other operatives, that he’d found something that could change the war outcome; one side might actually gain a purpose and a footing, and might become more than the mindless death machine it is.
He has nothing yet, of course. It’s all theory. But the lone man was interested, and in a sense, worried.

“Albach, this had better be good.” The man spoke silently, almost at a whisper. If not for interlinked transmitting device embedded within the operatives palate, for both secret identification and advanced methods of silent communication, as was accustom for all operatives dealing with such fragile subjects.

“Oh, it is good. Follow me, and read.” Liam handed the man a tablet, pages of information displayed all across the screen, highlights and scratches and all manner of marks across the works. And yet, they were so simple for his mind to comprehend.

“Something’s been going on in North Africa. Look at this, major facilities are being bought out and then just abandoned in vast numbers. If this was someone like ACI, they’d be demolishing or renovating these, not leaving them for dead. We’ve tried sending men to investigate, and all we’re getting in response is silence from the government. They’re ignoring us, and the President and his little band don’t wanna get involved, so unless we wanna jeopardize a country and this organizations standing, we’re gonna have to –”

The man halted, looking at the tablet still, and holding up his hand, looking up at Liam for a moment before his gaze returned to the screen.
“Hold on… this says they’re buying out facilities beyond the major cityscapes of the country. Are they buying them from the government? When were these facilities built?”
The man gestured outwards, handing the tablet away.

Liam began to laugh for a moment, before taking the tablet back and closing it down, before folding it and tucking it into his coat.
“This is why I wanted you here first, Harre Gerniov. I assume you’re gonna help me with this then?”
Gerniov crossed his arms, frowning and looking the renowned engineer dead in his flat brown eyes.

“Am I going to help uncover what could be the biggest turning point of this war in over sixty years? Something that could cause full scale invasion and millions of innocent deaths, and the destruction of decades of peace?”
The two of them laughed, knowing full well what his answer was.

"Call it off! End it! ABORT!"
The machine whirred out of life, as the numerous men and women behind the glass panels let out collective groans and sighs, most removing their goggles and rubbing their eyes tiredly as the project had, once again, failed.

"This is what, the fifth fucking test? We've lost seven men in this, we shouldn-" A harsh slapping sound resonated around the room.
"We're not giving up. If we give this up, then this suit will never come to fruition and we'll lose this war. The Russians and Germans are tearing our strongest machines apart, and the Chinese are closing in on the borders. We're losing this war, but we're not losing this hope."
Amanda looked up at Kaz, stern faced, and rigid, standing with pride.
"You're a real speaker, you know that?"
Kaz smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her, before looking back through the glass and sighing.

"What're they working on in there?" Liam didn't know much about the hardware tests that were run down here. He was a software specialist, tracking data and reading files and codes being transmitted into the facility 25/8.
Herre had been an active member of the company for at least fifteen years now, and he knew all of the goings on up to his level.

"They're running tests on an advanced optimized stealth field. From what I've heard, the field is currently causing some major mental breakdowns amongst cybernetic humanoids. Apparently it interferes with the Venn Cords, I'm not too sure how. It's probably not gonna see completion for another year, I'd guess."

Liam had lost interest a while ago. He was looking over some new data he'd just decrypted, apparently concerning the same problem he'd employed Herre on.
"Look at this, a fleet of armoured FPI Troop Command Carriers just made their way across the Darb Al Arbaein. I told you. A convoy that si-"
Herre pushed the tablet down a bit, still walking alongside Liam happily.
"Did you get told how many there were? Or is it just 'a convoy'?"

Liam had been silent for a good half an hour as they continued to descend into the facility, closer and closer to the briefing laboratory, where the other three were waiting. Herre was still unsure how likely an of this was, but at the very least he knew this could prove to be something even bigger.
Africa was almost on the brink of all out war. The Congo had been turned into a scorched slab overnight, and now all the soldiers could do was hold their ground. Easy pickings for Russia or China, both of which had their eyes on the place.

"Liam, what've you got? If you're not getting anything more than loose sweeping terms, you're data is gonna be ignored."
The man kept silent. All Herre could see of the screen was the ever passing data, black, green and white whirring past. How Liam read that, he couldn't tell.

There’d been talk lately of small resistance and militia forces beginning to organize themselves in Slums all around the world now. Coupled with the growing demand for private military, some people are questioning the safety of the cities and the true control the Worlds Order of Powers has over their safety.

This was something always watched for now. In fact, most major organizations, even those detached from the real world, were keeping constant track of the conflicts in the surrounding areas. The Slums were becoming an economic hotspot for arms dealers now, and people were starting to fear that if the Enforcement don't begin to sweep the streets clean like they were meant too, then the Slums would soon overflow into the Upper Districts. The Enforcement ignored these complaints.
Herre didn't.
He knew something was wrong. That's why his interest in this possible conspiracy was growing more and more each moment. Liam was too immersed in this to be tricked, he was no fool.

"Liam, what about the North Africans?"

Liam looked up at his associate, blinking, confused. "What do you mean?" He was genuinely confused by the statement, after all.
"The North African governing body could just be sending soldiers to try and expand their defense behind the borders. It'd make sense, right? They're being pushed back harder than ever by the Strike Force."
Liam shook his head, smiling and rubbing his neck a little.
"No, there's no way. They're not marked, and there's no operations taking place outside the facilities. It's all interior stuff. If it is the Northerners, then they're doing something they shouldn't be."

He raised a good point. Whatever was happening out there had to do, in some way, with questionable activities.
As the doors to the lift opened, and Herre and Liam stepped forward, the lights to Briefing Room 2-A flicked on, and the other recipients around the room all looked up, some yawning.
Herre didn't recognize a single one.

"The best of the best?"

Liam nodded once, before returning to his data pad and speaking swiftly, waving a hand to encompass the entire group in clockwise order.

"Jacob Sisko, Head of Major Research in Warfare Relations," The young man who waved to Herre seemed rather large physically, though his grey medical coat and business suit hid it quite well. He was standing formally, hardly an inch from the pale wall behind him.
"Quinton Amany, Head of Communications and Informations," This one was far thinner than the first, and far paler. His dress was mostly the same, aside from the glasses and red tie. He wasn't even looking at the two of them, he was talking to the man to his right.

"Uh, Chet Dirken, Head of Psychological and Philosophical Studies,"
Dirken was speaking with Amany, and gave a very slight wave, his deep blue blazer crunching at the elbows as he raised his arm, his collar loose and rather lazy looking, much like his unkempt hairstyle.
"Gaston Varova, Head of Biological and Social Examination and Advancement,"
Gaston was leaning lazily against the wall, seated happily on one of the polycarbonate stools, his long black trenchcoat and white top open, the grey singlet exposed underneath. Typical 'cool' Biological scientist.

"And Brigadier Madelene Bao-Qui."
This caught Herre's attention more than anything else, for countless reasons; a member of the military operating this deeply within the facility worried him like nothing else, especially when he put together the noted last name - Chinese. And not to mention that, of all the specialist in their fields, he'd not for a moment expected a female.
Perhaps he was being sexist though.

"The rest couldn't make it, their own fields require their attention. Still, it'll be enough. And before you ask, Varova and Dirken are here to help us employ people who can properly analyze the areas for data and study purposes."
Herre nodded, sighing and scratching his head, understanding the subjects and their contextual use.

"Fine. What about General Sun Tzu?" The scientists and doctors looked around, from Liam to Herre to Madelene, before the latter spoke up, with a light laugh.
"Ah, I mean not to threaten you, Herre Gerniov. I am a double-agent, if you believe that. Or are you like your leaders, determined to pin me as a triple-agent, someone working from within to work from within? Or maybe, you believe I am nothing but a terrorist. I can see it in your eyes; you can't pick, can you?"

She was hardly a foot away from the man now, looking up into his eyes, and smiling. "Ahh, you poor soul. Simply rest on the concept that I am here to help you, then. No matter what side you want me to be on, I do not want this war to escelate any further. No one does. If there are movements in the uninhabited wastes of the African Continent, then I will do what I can to quell that."

Herre still didn't like this.

"Okay. Everyone, circle. This is the information we have."