HG: I really wish I had an ACS too...
PLC: There is no North Korea in this version of history. Like I said earlier, I will post a timeline at the end of this fic chronicling just how all this came to be.
Dooly: ACS suit height varies for the person, but on average, they're about 6 to 9 feet tall.
Powerpuff Girls: Shattered Reality
Chapter 6
November 20, 2001 AD
Hell's Creek, Montana, United States of America
Commander Stephen May turned his head inside the gelatin goop of his ACS suit. The suit, responding to his movement, turned the 'helmet' to where he was looking. The ACS suit did not have a traditional viewing window; instead a complex system converted the outside into a view projected on the inside of the 'helmet'. This eliminated the fragile glass view port and sealed up the suit.
Right now, that view port was showing about 26 Chinese T-85 tanks, one of the toughest tanks in the world, cresting the nearest hill. May smirked. He had bet 6 bottles of beer on the chance that he could smash this entire force single-handedly. Just in case he messed up, his teammates were nearby, ready to step up if needed. 'Get ready to buy me a six-pack, boys' May laughed as the first Chinese tank drove into range.
May raised his left arm and pointed the clawed end towards the nearest T- 85. "Say hi to the Devil for me!" he shouted as he pulled a trigger.
The 'palm' of the ACS opened, revealing a tube, much like the ones used to launch anti-tank rockets. What burst from this barrel, however, was far different.
The T-85 never knew what hit it. Neither did its three squadronmates following behind. A burst of hyper-velocity depleted uranium rounds tore through the tank's thick armor like paper. The bullets, moving approximately 5% the speed of light, also brought a powerful sonic boom and a terrific blast of heat with them. Anyone in or around the tanks was boiled or crushed, or both.
When the tanks farther back began to fire, the rounds merely bounced off the incredible armor of the ACS like paper balls. Commander May, grinning devilishly, continued to destroy the column of tanks until nothing was left but smoldering craters.
Shouting to his teammates over their intercom, May gleefully said "So, which one of you is buying?"
The Armored Combat Suit had proven its worth.
January 1, 2002 AD
A new year began. There were no huge celebrations as in years past. The famed Times Square in New York City had been demolished by another Chinese rocket attack.
Another Chinese rocket attack had destroyed the US's only operating ACS factory. Only 5 ACS were in the field and only 2 could be completed with what was left.
However, there was good news. Both America and Russia had managed to stop the Chinese advance. America's massive Rocky Mountains and Russia's cold Siberian wastes had proved too much for a China beginning to overextend its supply lines.
The German Reich still remained neutral in name, but cargo and supply trades with the Russo-American alliance had grown faster than trades with China. It was fairly obvious that Germany would enter the war, but they were certainly taking their sweet time about it.
February 19, 2002 AD
Just off the Normandy Coast, Greater German Reich
Bubbles floated just above the surface of the dark gray water. The chilly wind blew her blond hair forward, and she raised a hand to brush it out of her face. Then she spotting the dark splotch against gray clouds, and flew over to meet it.
Buttercup's cloak fluttered around her, neatly concealing the scars from the H-Bomb blast that still lingered on her back. Buttercup had decided to not have the scars removed, not the smallest reason was she could claim to have lived through a hydrogen bomb detonation and prove it.
The sisters met above the dark, rolling waters of the English Channel. Both reached into their clothing, and both pulled out a folder. The two exchanged folders, nodded to each other and flew back to their respective countries with no words spoken.
Bubbles smiled as she crossed back into German territory. She would likely get a promotion for this . . .
April 6, 2002 AD
Iraqi Desert
Von Bock, a German Lt. Commander on loan to the Middle East Organization, was bored. There was nothing out here in this godforsaken corner of the Earth. Nothing, that is, but oil. Vast oil fields lay here, mostly untapped, enough to fuel Germany's military for years to come. It was von Bock's job to guard this vital area, but he had decided to inspect the defenses the next day. 'Tomorrow, I'll give the whole camp a good shakedown' Von Bock lies down in his bed, drifting off to sleep.
He never woke up.
The Chinese commando team slipped out of the now deceased von Bock's command post. Slipping through the night, the team stealthily killed every German in the complex. Drawing their weapons, the Chinese forced the Arab workers to step up the drilling for oil. China was in desperate need for oil, and the Middle Eastern oil fields had proven too tempting a target.
One commando stopped his work for just a second, to pray to gods he wasn't supposed to believe in that their actions would not bring Germany into the war.
Of course, they did.
April 17, 2002 AD
Berlin, Greater German Reich
The Fuehrer of Germany, Gerhard Schroeder, gave a speech on the steps of the Reichstag. His words electrified his people and the sagging morale of Russian and American troops. None could explain the Fuehrer's change in speechmaking. Never before or since had Schroeder spoken with such force and power behind his words. Some said that it seemed almost as if he was channeling Hitler in that speech.
If that was the case, then it was fortunate. From the most unlikely of places, the very halls of fascism were bringing forth badly needed aid for the democracies.
For the first time in 60 years, Germany was going to war.
PLC: There is no North Korea in this version of history. Like I said earlier, I will post a timeline at the end of this fic chronicling just how all this came to be.
Dooly: ACS suit height varies for the person, but on average, they're about 6 to 9 feet tall.
Powerpuff Girls: Shattered Reality
Chapter 6
November 20, 2001 AD
Hell's Creek, Montana, United States of America
Commander Stephen May turned his head inside the gelatin goop of his ACS suit. The suit, responding to his movement, turned the 'helmet' to where he was looking. The ACS suit did not have a traditional viewing window; instead a complex system converted the outside into a view projected on the inside of the 'helmet'. This eliminated the fragile glass view port and sealed up the suit.
Right now, that view port was showing about 26 Chinese T-85 tanks, one of the toughest tanks in the world, cresting the nearest hill. May smirked. He had bet 6 bottles of beer on the chance that he could smash this entire force single-handedly. Just in case he messed up, his teammates were nearby, ready to step up if needed. 'Get ready to buy me a six-pack, boys' May laughed as the first Chinese tank drove into range.
May raised his left arm and pointed the clawed end towards the nearest T- 85. "Say hi to the Devil for me!" he shouted as he pulled a trigger.
The 'palm' of the ACS opened, revealing a tube, much like the ones used to launch anti-tank rockets. What burst from this barrel, however, was far different.
The T-85 never knew what hit it. Neither did its three squadronmates following behind. A burst of hyper-velocity depleted uranium rounds tore through the tank's thick armor like paper. The bullets, moving approximately 5% the speed of light, also brought a powerful sonic boom and a terrific blast of heat with them. Anyone in or around the tanks was boiled or crushed, or both.
When the tanks farther back began to fire, the rounds merely bounced off the incredible armor of the ACS like paper balls. Commander May, grinning devilishly, continued to destroy the column of tanks until nothing was left but smoldering craters.
Shouting to his teammates over their intercom, May gleefully said "So, which one of you is buying?"
The Armored Combat Suit had proven its worth.
January 1, 2002 AD
A new year began. There were no huge celebrations as in years past. The famed Times Square in New York City had been demolished by another Chinese rocket attack.
Another Chinese rocket attack had destroyed the US's only operating ACS factory. Only 5 ACS were in the field and only 2 could be completed with what was left.
However, there was good news. Both America and Russia had managed to stop the Chinese advance. America's massive Rocky Mountains and Russia's cold Siberian wastes had proved too much for a China beginning to overextend its supply lines.
The German Reich still remained neutral in name, but cargo and supply trades with the Russo-American alliance had grown faster than trades with China. It was fairly obvious that Germany would enter the war, but they were certainly taking their sweet time about it.
February 19, 2002 AD
Just off the Normandy Coast, Greater German Reich
Bubbles floated just above the surface of the dark gray water. The chilly wind blew her blond hair forward, and she raised a hand to brush it out of her face. Then she spotting the dark splotch against gray clouds, and flew over to meet it.
Buttercup's cloak fluttered around her, neatly concealing the scars from the H-Bomb blast that still lingered on her back. Buttercup had decided to not have the scars removed, not the smallest reason was she could claim to have lived through a hydrogen bomb detonation and prove it.
The sisters met above the dark, rolling waters of the English Channel. Both reached into their clothing, and both pulled out a folder. The two exchanged folders, nodded to each other and flew back to their respective countries with no words spoken.
Bubbles smiled as she crossed back into German territory. She would likely get a promotion for this . . .
April 6, 2002 AD
Iraqi Desert
Von Bock, a German Lt. Commander on loan to the Middle East Organization, was bored. There was nothing out here in this godforsaken corner of the Earth. Nothing, that is, but oil. Vast oil fields lay here, mostly untapped, enough to fuel Germany's military for years to come. It was von Bock's job to guard this vital area, but he had decided to inspect the defenses the next day. 'Tomorrow, I'll give the whole camp a good shakedown' Von Bock lies down in his bed, drifting off to sleep.
He never woke up.
The Chinese commando team slipped out of the now deceased von Bock's command post. Slipping through the night, the team stealthily killed every German in the complex. Drawing their weapons, the Chinese forced the Arab workers to step up the drilling for oil. China was in desperate need for oil, and the Middle Eastern oil fields had proven too tempting a target.
One commando stopped his work for just a second, to pray to gods he wasn't supposed to believe in that their actions would not bring Germany into the war.
Of course, they did.
April 17, 2002 AD
Berlin, Greater German Reich
The Fuehrer of Germany, Gerhard Schroeder, gave a speech on the steps of the Reichstag. His words electrified his people and the sagging morale of Russian and American troops. None could explain the Fuehrer's change in speechmaking. Never before or since had Schroeder spoken with such force and power behind his words. Some said that it seemed almost as if he was channeling Hitler in that speech.
If that was the case, then it was fortunate. From the most unlikely of places, the very halls of fascism were bringing forth badly needed aid for the democracies.
For the first time in 60 years, Germany was going to war.