Disclaimer: I do not own Redwall or any of its characters. They are all owned by Brain Jacques, as it should be.
Note: This story is a side-story of lkcrm94's 'Survivor of a Forgotten Past' and 'Discovery of a Forgotten Past', with his permission. While you don't really need to read it to get an understanding of what's happening, I'd definitely recommend reading it for some context, if not for the sheer awesomeness that it is.
Chapter 1
War. An feat that can be triggered by the fewest of words, yet can leave some of the bloodiest stains on our history. However, when it goes to far, and leaves only a few in their wake, who can say as to what will happen those who survive?
This is one of those stories.
It was what seemed to be an ordinary day when it happened. Everyone was moving about like they had no knowledge of what would happen. Then again, if they did know, they probably wouldn't have been outside if they had. However, we'll be focusing on one particular group of people: A class of high schoolers, to be exact. The class had been visiting Lab 26, or 'Minerva's Haven' as some have called it, which had offered to show the class around the facility.
"And here we have our Research and Development team, of which our most brilliant scientists work to help the war effort," Sandra Phillips, a scientist who wore blue jeans, a red shirt, and was wearing a white lab coat said, a group of teenagers following close behind her with their teacher behind them, intent on keeping an eye on any stragglers. Following them was a squad of six soldiers, ensuring that the group in front of them wouldn't stray into places they didn't have access to. For the most part, the teenagers looked around with disinterested glances, visibly bored by the whole field trip, or just warily looking back at the soldiers. However, those who weren't in the former group, though it were few, could grasp what the importance of the room really was: Throughout the entire room, there were a multitude of scientists at each booth, working vigorously to create the best technology they could muster.
"Now, who can name some of the inventions that was produced by this lab?" The scientist asked, clapping her glove-clad hands together as he turned to the group. After several seconds passed with no answer, he pointed at one particular teen, who was leaning against a support beam, and asked the muscular male, "You, sir. Could you name one of them?"
The jock looked at the scientist with a perturbed expression on his face, then answered, "The guns that, y'know, refill by themselves?"
The scientist looked at him for a few seconds, then shook her head. "While the auto-loading firearms have become a staple item for our soldiers," She explained, "They were actually invented by Proto Corporations over 20 years ago. Good guess, though. Anyone else want to take a guess?" With one person having now answered, the awkwardness had quickly faded and several people started to give their own guesses as to what the lab had produced.
"Hover vehicles?"
"Correct. To be more accurate, Lab 26 has helped develop the C2-AR1-HV for reconnaissance and the Zephyr for commercial purposes."
"Ion-propelled planes?"
"Close, but not quite. We did, however, help design the engines and well-associated EMP missiles that are included with the plane."
"The exo-suits?"
"Which ones?" Another student's voice quipped in response.
The teacher, picking up the snipe, looked at the student who had just spoken and asked the teenager, "Would you care to explain your statement of 'which ones', Marcus?" With the student being singled out, the group as a whole turned towards the now-named Marcus, awaiting his answer.
Marcus blushed slightly as Mr. Larenster pointed out his comment. He didn't mean for his comment to be heard. However, with all of his class's eyes on him, he cleared his voice and explained his comment; "Well, as I said earlier, it depends on what model you're talking about: In the case of the more popular models, such as the 'Talos' and 'Pandora' exo-suits, those were invented by the larger labs, and have existed for some time now, and the exo-suits nicknamed 'Cerberus' and 'Minos' aren't even from our labs, period. However, Lab 26 is responsible for the 'Vulcan' exo-suit, which is renowned for its artillery power, and the 'Aelous' exo-suit, giving the user flight capabilities on par with a jet plane and reach speeds of Mach 2, and the 'Triton' exo-suit, which can dive 10,000 feet without any side-effects, making them perfect for underwater travel and reconnaissance." By the time he had finished rambling, everyone was staring at him. After several seconds of silence, the scientist grinned wider and clapped her hands in approval.
"Very good, Marcus!," Phillips beamed, "However, I wouldn't expect anything less, since I believe your father works here. A Mr. Alexander Zennith, if I'm not mistaken?"
"Yes, ma'am. He's right over there, to be exact." Marcus said, pointing in the direction of said father. His dad, realizing the class was here, waved to Marcus and the others before returning to his research.
With the explanation now finished, the group turned back to the scientist, and she said to them, "However, we're running a tad behind schedule now, so if we could please keep moving?" Most were accepting of this, and followed her through the room. However, some were not so quick to forget Marcus's rant.
"Nerd," The muscular teen from earlier muttered to Marcus as the teenager bumped into him.
Marcus simply looked back at him and said in reply, "You really think it's a good idea to tease about that when you're surrounded by successful 'nerds'?" The teenager's face reddened slightly before turning back to the front, a few of the scientists who were with earshot chuckling at Marcus's apt response.
"Now, before we head onto the weapons testing field, I'd like to-" The scientist began to say, several males' heads perking up in anticipation of seeing weapons being used. Her explanation, however, would have to be left unexplained as a loud blaring noise began to reverberate throughout the entire facility. The scientist, hearing the alarm, visibly paled at the sound. Out of all of the students there, only Marcus understood what it meant, his complexion soon matching the scientist's.
"They've finally done it," He said softly, unable to accept what had happened. He had been told of the various alarms by his father the evening beforehand, and while he could see where some of them would be likely to happen (An invention gone awry, a military attack, or a power outage), this one, on the other hand, meant only one thing: M.A.D. had been achieved. Some of the nearby students, who had heard his comment, turned towards him in the hopes of getting answers. Fortunately for them, they would get their answers from a different source as the speakers began to play a message.
'Everyone, please head to the nearest bunker immediately while the Utopiadome is secured. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is NOT a drill,' The overhead speakers stated in the monotonous, mildly female voice that was present for any autonomous message. Silence reigned for a seconds, then panic ensued; The teenagers, intent on only saving themselves, rushed to the bunker with a few trailing behind, while the scientists walked briskly in the direction of the bunker, leaving their projects where they lay.
Marcus was barely able to slip into the bunker in time, the massive metal doors closing only a few seconds after he slipped between the closing doors. Once the doors let out a hiss, signifying that the doors were secured shut, the student population began to talk among one another, wondering what had happened outside. However, everyone quieted down as the bunker began to shake, everyone realizing what Marcus had realized earlier.
The bunker shook repeatedly as time went on, everyone knowing that it was the bombs that were causing the earth shuddering. Some of the students whimpered as the bombs went off, crouching in hopes that they would be protected better from the explosions that way. After several minutes of the earth constantly shaking, it came to a stop. People blinked in both hope and anticipation that the bombing was over. Eventually, the speakers crackled back on again, informing them of their fate.
You may now leave the bunkers, the monotonous voice said, the thick doors slowly opening to the sides. Everyone tentatively poured out of the bunker, looking around as if expecting for another bomb to come flying in the lab. When they finally realized that the bombing was over, people began to cry, either from relief that they had survived or from the shock that everyone else was most likely dead. With the explosions over, it seemed as though there was nothing that could possibly go wrong, and life could only get better.
However, this would soon be proved otherwise.