3029 Official Page

[Spartanz19]

The Beginning


SIX FORTY SEVEN A.M. FEBRUARY, THIRD. THIRTY TWENTY NINE. AGENT MARSHALL, J. AWAKEN.

The man groaned as he rolled over in his cot. His alarm system had tried to arouse him for seventeen minutes. He brushed it off everytime.

The last night was rough for him. He had at least three dreams, two of which were nightmares, laced with the horrors of New Meridia. Slave traders exchanging living humans for cold credits. Public executions on every corner. Bounty hunters dragging even the slightest opposition to the dynasty in for punishment. Maybe this wasn't much of a dream, more like a reflection on his daily life. He saw these things 24/7. It was a miracle he hadn't been bothered by them until now.

James Marshall rolled out of bed with a groan. His day would be long and hard at the New Meridian Empire's Intel Division. He put his company-provided suit on and made for the nearest magneti-train. He would only be five minutes late, no big deal.

The train suddenly stopped halfway to Marshall's destination. The richer denizens of The Capital grumbled over such a minor inconvenience. Then the lights went out. Phantom League soldiers piled out of the doors on both sides and pointed weapons inward. Screams filled the train as the azure flares of the weapons illuminated the train. James hid under his chair, barely avoiding the bolts of the Phantom Leagues weapons.

In a flash, the room grew quiet again. Marshall peaked up to see the soldiers identifying the bodies of three seemingly lifeless men.

"This is the seer. Pack him up, Carver, we'll deal with the other two."

Marshall noticed that the two other unconscious men had small pistols tucked in their hands while the "seer" being dragged away was weaponless. He felt a sense of pity for the three, even though he had no reason to. These types of men were legal terrorists, and they were probably planning to kill thousands of Meridian citizens.

Probably.

The word latched onto his head like a parasite would. All the Meridian propaganda ever said about the People's Freedom Coalition never had any fact behind it. The only thing they could say is they were planning to take our freedom away...

But isn't that what the New Meridian Empire had done in the first place?

Just think about something else. That's what he told himself as he walked down an alleyway that would get him to work only thirty minutes late. He tried to think about his dog, a German shepherd. His fur was nice and soft, and his deep brown eyes could soften an--

The poster of the People's Freedom Coalition was messily pasted to the wall. James sighed. He didn't want to do this. It would probably cost his life down the line. James gave up on his Meridian citizenship and headed for the nearest space shuttle. He was going to fight for freedom. Life would be hard, but he would make a difference, no matter what. He knew that. He always knew it...

Freedom comes at a price.


A Collaborative Story By Z19 and Ceta

[AgentHellion]

Amazing! I'm happy to see this series has started.

[Rogue-Elite]

In out of the loop, what is this?

[81Ceta_Deta]

In out of the loop, what is this?

Oof. Just search 3029 on the gallery.

[Rogue-Elite]

In out of the loop, what is this?

Oof. Just search 3029 on the gallery.

Sorry, I was away from late November up into mid January I think so I think I missed quite a lot

[81Ceta_Deta]

Here it is folks!

[81Ceta_Deta]

RISING TIDE PART 1
STRIKE TEAM THETA,
OH SIX HUNDRED
LOCATION: PFC COMPOUND, [REDACTED]


The alarm rang at Samuel's ears, begging him to drag himself from the bed and quiet the alarm. Sam groaned, his voice hoarse and tired. He slapped his hand down on the alarm, shutting it up. He slowly pulled himself from his bed, resisting the comfort of his sheets and the idea of another hour of sleep. He groggily rubbed his eyes, blinking rapidly to adapt to the dim lighting of his quarters. He sat up, and looked at the alarm. It was 6:30 in the morning, the standard time in which People's Freedom Coalition fighters would wake up. The PFC higher-ups kept them on a tight schedule, and sleep alongside training was incredibly important.
Ha. Ironic. The army wakes up bright and early, trains and follows orders and yet half of the army were merely terrorists or bounty hunters, in it for the money and power. Sam found it ridiculous. The way some in the army acted made the New Meridian Empire seem fun.
His eyes adjusted and he stood, stretching his arms and yawning. Sam stood and walked to the bathroom, and started the shower. He stood in the hot water for a few minutes, his mind racing.
It was the Day.
The Day the new Strike members would be joining him and Lily.

Lily.

He reflected back on their relationship. Friends for years, they signed up together to join the PFC and worked through the ranks into Strike.
Who Sam liked. He wondered if she, too, felt that way. His thoughts lingered on her for a few minutes, and the water turned cold as it fell down to him. He left the shower and walked back into his quarters. He pulled on a pair of black pants, standard Strike attire, and a black shirt. The clothes were comfortable enough, and the day would be downtime anyway.
Sam admired the structure of the PFC. They ran a tight boat.
He left the room, the doors swishing behind him.


Sam walked through the halls of the compound. The building was old, a former NME weapons factory. The PFC had attacked and captured it during Sam's days of working in the infantry corps. It was a rough battle, a bloodshed on each side. The building had its affects from the battle. Bullet holes and plasma burns lined the exterior walls, damage to remind the base's inhabitants of what they fought for.
Fortunately, the factory had many quarters for its workers, and with some work, it became a bunker for PFC combatants. Sam admired it. The compound had held missiles, guns and ammo for a contingent of the NME Army. Ha.
How fortunate the PFC was, now that they had possession of oh so much of the NME's precious weaponry.
He turned a final corner and clicked on the keypad leading to the cafeteria. He typed the key code, a simple 4-digit passcode, and the door slid open. The chatter from the fighters in the room immediately rushed out at Sam. He smiled slightly, and entered the cafeteria.
He took in the room. It was nothing out of the ordinary. A large, rectangular room, with tables and chairs laden out everywhere. A small room lay in the far corner, with soldiers exiting it, carrying trays. The room was one of the only parts of the compound with glass walls. In fact, there was a small outdoor eating area, reserved for officers and Strike.
He walked into the serving area, and grabbed a tray, walking through the belt he selected some bacon and a pancake. He walked soundlessly to the door that led to the patio, and he typed in his identifying rank and serial number. It slide open, and he caught a sneer from a younger soldier. He walked over to where Lily sat, tray nearly devoid of food.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," she responded. She looked almost sad, her face sullen. Not like her usual chipper self. Her black shoulder length hair was tied back neatly, and she wore standard Strike attire.
"What's wrong?" He asked, sitting down.
"Just nervous. We haven't had a full team for awhile. What if the others are mean, cruel, cold? A team's like a family," she said, and took a bite of the pancake.
Sam considered this. She had a point. A Strike team couldn't operate successfully if the team had inner conflict.
"Well, we'll be meeting them in a few hours. I heard from Captain Maverick that their experienced, and their last team was pretty skilled. A team can't have that high praise if they had a lot of conflict."
Lily nodded as he said this, seeming to understand.
He ate the bacon, the taste of the meat immediately satisfying a hunger that had laid dormant. He took a swig of the orange juice he had grabbed, the sweet liquid filling his tastebuds.
They talked for a few minuted as they ate, discussing what they'd do when the war would end, what they'd do when the PFC would win.
"I'd still serve. In the Enforcer ranks, that is," Lily stated, finishing off her pancake.
"You?"
Sam pretended to think hard, but deep inside he knew what he'd do. He'd tell her he liked her, and hope it lead to something.
"Probably retire," he lied.
Lily chuckled, assuming he made a joke. He chuckled too.

[Thelvadamee132]

noice. Great photo