Spartan One 017

FedNet Compulsory Education Programming 001. 

Would You Like To Know More?...(click to continue) 

Golden light crept over the curved edge of Earth, catching orbital defense platforms, shipyards, and the silver hulls of troop carriers assembling for war. A brass fanfare swelled as the seal of the Terran Federation rotated into view. Then, a smiling news anchor appeared on the screen. 

“Since the founding of the Federation, humanity has stood united against chaos, sedition, disease, and poverty. For 100 years, we have enjoyed the fruits of our labor, of our freedom from the fears of nuclear Armageddon. However, a new, alien menace has reared its ugly four limbed face our way, intent on devouring everything we hold dear. It is only thanks to the brave soldiers, and citizens like you that the future of our species can endure.” 

The screen then changed to a burning city half in ruin. Shattered towers and pillars of black smoke were frequent, whilst Warrior Bugs lay scattered across the avenues, their armored bodies riddled with bullet holes. Rescue crews clambered through the wreckage while Spartan soldiers lifted slabs of ferrocrete that would have required industrial machinery to move.

“On Troy, our fighting men proved that service meant more than destroying the enemy. Lieutenant Orion Winters first gained acclaim for being the first boot to both land & depart Klendauthu. This powerful psychic, however, not only put his talents into destruction, but for rescue as well.” 

Orion's armor was scorched, and bug ichor stained his boots and shinguard. With one hand, he held up a collapsed support beam while two members of his squad dragged an injured woman from beneath it. Another Spartan carried an old man toward a medical transport.

Standing atop a mound of rubble, silhouetted against a burning sunset, a little girl sat securely in the crook of one armored arm. Her fingers clung to the edge of his chest plate while Orion used his free hand to shield her face from drifting ash.

Behind them, the ruins smoldered, and he walked her all the way to an emergency transport. From there, the image transferred to the triumphant Warthog procession dragging the Brain Bug. 

HE SERVES HUMANITY.

NOW HUMANITY NEEDS YOU.

“Lieutenant Winters and the Spartans saved two hundred and seventeen civilians during the Troy recovery operation, and accounted for over a thousand enemies KIA. However, there were well over 50,000 Arachnids that attacked Troy. Special Forces alone cannot accomplish what is necessary for survival, for victory. With more soldiers, more engineers, and more citizens doing their part, perhaps next time there would be less casualties, and more rescues.”

The scene shifted once more to Orion carrying the girl. 

“When I grow up, I’m going to be a Spartan.” She said in a quiet, resolute voice.

A flashing enlistment button appeared beneath Orion’s silhouette, and triumphant scores started to play in the background. 

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?

(Next clip plays in 5, 4, 3…) 

The screen changed onto the next slide. 

This time, it depicted a surveillance drone flying between the towers of Mega City One, the largest habitation of Humans that had survived the nuclear firestorms of Earth. 

Enormous holographic advertisements smiled down upon streets packed with millions of people, and the amount of people driving, walking, or just hanging out was truly mind-boggling. With 50,000 people living in a single block, and an estimated 400 million people in terms of population, it was one of a dozen major cities on Earth. 

As the drone flew around skyscrapers, it spotted an explosion. 

A sturdy barricade of scorched cars and trash blocked Sector 119. Masked insurgents fired homemade weapons from behind overturned transports. A banner demanding colonial independence hung from a hab-block balcony, and a man reading out a manifesto was yelling into a loudspeaker. 

A Lawmaster motorcycle roared onto the scene, revealing a blackclad man in bulletproof armor, and a helmet-designed like old fashioned police motorcycle helmets-that left his lower face uncovered. 

“Law and order amongst the stars is difficult at the best of times. When colonial rebels begin to stir up trouble, it is up to our Judges to see to justice. Judge Dredd has completed 999 cases, and is about to finish his 1,000th.” 

The motorcycle shot out a canister of smoke at the demonstrators, releasing a toxic gas making them disperse. At the same time, the bike's speakers started to tell people to leave, that anyone still in the zone would receive a 5 year prison sentence in the iso-cubes. 

Emerging through the smoke with his pistol raised, he shot at an armed rebel, taking him out. His second blew the hinges from a reinforced door, making it fall down onto a trio of gunmen who were hiding behind cover. His motorcycle’s cannons began to unload, and chewed through the barricade while the surviving insurgents scrambled into an alleyway. 

Dismounting his bike, Dredd followed at a steady walk.

One rebel threw down his weapon and raised both hands.

“I surrender!”

Dredd stopped before him.

“You fired on a Judge, destroyed public property, and disrupted authorized traffic.”

The rebel glanced nervously at the camera drone.

“I didn’t hit anybody!”

“Attempted murder. Terrorism. Criminal damage. Obstruction of a transit. Sentence: forty years.”

The Lawgiver barked nearby, and a stun round folded the rebel onto the pavement.

The scene panned out as the sound of gunfire became increasingly chaotic, and violent screams of both death & agony were heard in the distance. By the time it resumed, five men were seen bruised and cuffed inside a jailhouse. 

Dredd and two others stood behind a podium looking down upon them. 

“Guilty!” 

REBELLION IS A CRIME.

REPORT IT BEFORE THE CANCER SPREADS.

(truthful reportings may result in cash reward or honorary citizenship)

A cheerful female voice replaced the martial narrator from earlier: “Suspicious gatherings? Unregistered weapons? Neighbors expressing anti-Federation opinions? Report unusual activity to your sector’s nearest Judge station. Remember, innocent citizens have nothing to hide!”

The scene quickly cut to a happy family waved as Judges dragged a hooded man from the apartment next door. Then to a liquor store owner and his wife stomping on a thief placed in handcuffs. 

“Mega-City One remained safe because justice never sleeps.” 

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?

(Next clip plays in 5, 4, 3…) 

A sleek aircraft glided over a desert testing range. It had no cockpit, windows, or any visible crew compartment whatsoever. Its angular black body looked like a predatory bird carved from metal. Beneath its wings hung missile racks, rotary cannons, and compact prototype plasma emitters were installed. 

A technician in a spotless uniform smiled beside the SkyNet logo. “Modern warfare demanded modern solutions. Citizens are not only needed on the frontlines, but to manage Humanity's next Great Leap Forward.” 

On the range below, robotic targets emerged from several trenches. Some ran around aimlessly, others hid inside buildings or attempted to mingle with civilian-shaped mannequins. To prove the effectiveness of the demonstration, there were even a handful of real, living, breathing people taking part in the exercise. 

The hunter-killer drone hovered over the range, and a red scanning light swept over both the buildings and the field. A POV change showed the machine's screen, and how each of the robots were highlighted in red, whilst the Humans were green. 

No words were said as the drone independently calculated the most efficient solution for solving its problem. 

The swivel mounted rotary cannon began to buzz through buildings with unnerving accuracy. Large .50cal shells burst through ferrocrete, and zipped around the civilians, solely killing those machines. 

Then a cluster of mini missiles entered a bunker through its firing slit, eliminating everything inside. The drone’s cannon unleashed a perfect torrent of destruction through every remaining hostile target while leaving the civilian figures untouched.

The technician’s smile broadened as he tapped away at a keyboard, and the hovering drone roared its engines, moving beside him. Patting the machine like a proud parent, the technician faced towards the camera. 

“Introducing SkyNet’s HK-Aerial Mark IV. Equipped with instant AI identification, Independent tactical reasoning, and a ninety-nine-point-eight percent target recognition.”

A child visiting the exhibition stared up at the machine.

“Does it need a pilot?”

“No, little Timmy, of course not! It's programmed to think and act on the Federation’s orders. Perhaps one day, the Aerial will save you and your friends in a firefight with the aliens.” The tech said with a warm smile, ruffling the kid's hair. 

The child grinned back. “Cooool!”

Behind them, the drone’s red sensor shifted briefly toward a crowd of onlookers, as if it were still searching for targets. 

SKYNET: PROTECTING TOMORROW.

A group of 11 of the original 12 Human test subjects ended the program waving goodbye. 

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?

(Next clip plays in 5, 4, 3…) 

The program jumped to a brilliant white medical facility. Inside, an injured soldier lay on an operating table. His right arm ended above the elbow, yet despite this injury, he glanced toward the doctor with a nervous but hopeful look. 

“At Umbrella, the sacrifice of one does not mean his future is lost.” 

Scientists in white lab coats guided a translucent cylinder into position beside the soldier. Within it floated a newly grown arm, biologically identical to the one he had lost. Mechanical surgical instruments descended from the ceiling, and the footage accelerated.

Before long, the soldier was holding a cup in his new hand, and laughing along jovially. Seconds later, his wife and son rushed into the room, to which the boy threw himself into his father’s arms, and the free hand naughtily squeezed his wife's ass. 

“I thought I’d never do this again!” He exclaimed. 

A physician wearing a red-and-white Umbrella badge watched on proudly, nodding approvingly. 

“Thanks to our patented regenerative cloning process, Commisar Vale would return to active service within six weeks.”

The scene cut briefly to a nearby, sealed laboratory door, where something heavy struck the other side hard enough to bend the metal, then the camera immediately returned to the smiling family.

“Your fingers would remember their strength better, if they grasped your gun.” The Umbrella employee said, holding out a massive pistol. 

UMBRELLA CORPORATION.

OUR BUSINESS IS YOUR LIFE.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?

(Next clip plays in 5, 4, 3…) 

The next segment opened on an untouched alien world.

Purple mountains surrounded wide green valleys, and rivers glittered beneath a ringed planet. Survey ships descended toward prefabricated settlements while families watched from the windows, overcome with wonder.

“Have crowded cities left you longing for more space?”

A farmer drove an automated harvester across rich black soil.

“Have taxes consumed your dreams?”

Prospectors laughed as they lifted glittering ore from a shallow cavern.

“Has opportunity begun to feel like something reserved for somebody else?”

The Weyland-Yutani logo appeared above the colony.

“Then it was time to build a new world.”

A company representative walked through tall alien grass, and colonists erected homes behind him while children chased one another beneath unfamiliar trees.

“Weyland-Yutani is offering free land grants to qualified settlers willing to establish permanent colonies in the Klendathu Exclusion Zone. Every approved household will receive forty hectares of land, free transportation, prefabricated housing, and full mineral prospecting rights.”

Something large moved through the distant grass, and the representative continued smiling.

“Recent military activity has dramatically reduced indigenous pest populations.”

Seconds later, a warning sign flashed past behind a landing transport: ARACHNID TERRITORY–PERIMETER UNCONFIRMED.

The cameraman carefully moved around the sign, so that it was no longer in the shot. 

“Adventure. Prosperity. A home beneath new stars. All of it could be yours.”

A young couple planted a Federation flag outside their new house. Far behind them, barely visible through the haze, several thin shapes rose from the valley floor.

WEYLAND-YUTANI: BUILDING BETTER WORLDS.

SETTLEMENT TERMS AND SURVIVAL BENEFITS SUBJECT TO CONTRACT.

The scene then shifted back to the original reporter. 

“Enlist. Report. Invest. Colonize. Contribute. Victory belongs to those willing to do their part!”

The Federation seal filled the screen as thousands of voices rose together.

“I’M DOING MY PART!”

The final frame showed Orion’s shadowed armored form holding the rescued child above the ruins of Troy. Beneath them, bright red letters appeared.

WHAT PART WILL YOU DO?