Chapter 1
July 7, 2079 Stelburn, Nova Scotia
Commander Dawkins let out a slow sigh as he watched the seemingly endless units of Canadian Armed Forces come over the hills. The ocean was at their back, but that was of no concern, he had no intentions of retreat. The occupation of Nova Scotia would be the key to turning the tides in a four year war with the "neighbor to the north."
"Captain Rogers. Are the Bio-genetic Engineers ready to launch?" he asked
"They say they still need time to load 'Secondary Protocol' sir."
Enraged, Dawkins stormed into the small mobile command post where the two sat, diligently tapping away at their holoscreens. Curtis Wily and Preston Light, deemed by America as "The World's Smartest Men" were slightly bothered to see Dawkins in such a mood.
"Do you mind telling me just why the hell we sit exposed, in broad daylight, for a "sure fire" plan, when you two weren't even prepared to start up your own inventions the moment we touched down?!"
Preston, slightly rattled, stood to respond to his superior. Though he stood five foot nine, he was stocky for his height. He was a black haired young man with a drinkers 5 o'clock shadow and that shadow was well earned. Not that it mattered, Commander Dawkins was known to shoot men on sight for insubordination, or at least those were the rumors. "Sir, with all do respect, I informed you that secondary protocol needed to be written and uploaded before actual engagement." He scratched his head, nervously "It's just taking a little longer than expected."
Curtis, (the taller, blonde haired, temperamental one of the two) looked up from his holo smirking. "Wily!" Dawkins interrupted, making him jolt. "What, exactly, is Secondary Protocol?"
He cleared his throat, "It's a restraint program, sir."
Dawkins raised an eyebrow, "Then what is Primary Protocol?"
"Adaptive Lethal Engagement, sir"
The Commander's view shifted to Light, "In about ten minutes there will be two thousand of Canada's finest, armed with PL250 assault rifles, making cherry Kool-Aid in the ocean with all of my men's blood! You launch the machines now!"
"Sir, secondary protocol is still uploading!" Preston said
"I don't give two shits about restraint for those men! Launch the fucking machines now!"
"But sir..." Light didn't finish that sentence, it was too late. He looked to his best friend, who had already pressed the "Abort Task" and "Launch" keys. Wiley looked at him and mouthed "Sorry Preston."
The Canadian Forces were closing in on the command center when, from behind the overlook to the west, they heard what could only be described as metal banging and walls falling, followed by silence, then a light whistle.
The Draken was the first to emerge. It flew over the men like a giant, fabled dragon spraying down napalm over the first two waves of troops. The screams of burning agony deafened other soldiers near by, who had charged full speed while the beast circled back around. Those who had escaped the winged beast were about to discover the contents of box number two.
The Leviathan, as subtle as the Draken was brash, hovered into view. Resembling a cliché drawing of a UFO with jagged, metal spikes and thousands of holes lining it. It let loose a barrage of barbed cables, both impeding their advancement and entangling or impaling hundreds of their troops. The smaller holes along the bottom opened and let loose a downpour of cold water onto the battlefield. Confusion was widespread, but only for a couple of seconds before five thousand volts of electricity flowed through the tentacles. Those still on dry land retreated back to the hills, only to be battered and mauled by the winged devil that stalked overhead. Every flat-line scan on the Draken's interface translated to it as "effective procedure," a machine's "job well done."
Dawkins and his platoon looked on in awe. The battle, and possibly the war, had been won in mere minutes, and not a single shot fired from his men. They watched as the Draken scoured the battlefield stomping the still breathing and half burned soldiers who still moaned. Biting in half the ones who still dared to stand up, while the Leviathan hovered in place, as if admiring as well.
Light and Wily, in their small bunker, had a first person view of the carnage on their holo displays. The Leviathan concerned them, it was still in "Target Acquisition Mode" whereas the Draken had settled into "Standby" when it's devastation was complete. Knowing what this could possibly mean, they came running out into the open. It was too late. Barbed cables began slicing through their fellow men before the first warning could be shouted. Wily grabbed his partner from rushing in and pointed to the Draken, who began to raise it's head. "They've gotten all the warning their gonna get from us, we leave now!" He shouted.
Preston was in a state of shock as he was dragged and pulled into the small aquatic transport unit. It blasted into the ocean, leaving Preston with the lasting view of Commander Dawkins pointing his rifle up at the giant, open-winged dragon, before being devoured. He thought of his five year old son and his fantasy holo books of knights and kings.
"This is a prime example of why the A.I. ban should be lifted!" Curtis said, angrily."If machines could think and reason with actual logic, imagine what could be prevented."
"No." Light said, bluntly. "You can't play God like that, it turns humans into monsters. Not to mention self awareness is a dangerous thing on it's own. We stick to creating secondary protocols and allow ourselves more planning time in advance."
Wily, frustrated "That island holds everything we needed. The Fusion Engineering Compound alone could give us unlimited possibilities. The Canadians are so short-sighted, making guns and bombs. It's a fucking waste." And with that, he had already started formulating a plan.