End of an Era

Chapter 1: The Spark

  "Ladies, Gentlemen, Novum, Fighters, Friends.  For too long have we been oppressed by the world.  For too long have we been forced to obey.  For too long have we been viewed as freaks, monsters,...weapons.  The storm of war is building in the east, America doesn't want you to know, but you deserve to know.  A resistance, a rebellion, is beginning.  Peace and equality for the Novum.  A lesson for America.  A lesson that can only be taught in the language that they understand.  Blood, and death, struggle and fighting.  War is the only true language that everyone understands.  Prepare yourselves, there is no stopping it now.  The only question is, who will you join?"  The radio crackled and went silent.  This was one of many speeches by Novum supporters, people who knew what was building. 

Aaron sighed and clicked off the radio.  The speech had been made by a brave man, a brave man that would be reported dead in a day.  Such was the fate of everyone who brought truth to the people.  Everyone knew that there would be a monstrous war soon.  They were just waiting for someone to throw the first punch.  With a slight smirk, Aaron looked over the reports his scouts had just delivered.  The nearest military instillation was currently playing host to 3 full platoons, about 192 soldiers.  Of those 192, 92 of them were indoctrinated Novum, being as useful as a firing team by themselves. 

Aaron smiled to himself and set the report down.  His plan was to personally take a company to hit the base hard.   He crossed the small room to look at a map he had pinned to a wall.  There were markers showing key military bases within the territory.  His ragtag army had grouped in Washington state, giving them six targets in all.  The plan was to sweep across the country, state by state, before hitting the capitol of New D.C.  This plan was made tedious by the relatively small amount of soldiers, just enough to fill a battalion.

Aaron was a second generation Novum, both his parents had been members of the new race, both telekinetic.  He had grown up with the discrimination that the mass populace showed towards them.  At 18, both his parents had attempted to resist the forced move from their home in California, resulting in an over-zealous soldier putting a bullet in each of their heads.  This caused Aaron to lose his cool, tapping into his dormant power and tearing apart the small group of a dozen soldiers.  He had ran away, finding a small band of rogue Novum along the way.  They had decided upon Washington as a base of operations, that was four years ago.  Since then, their numbers had grown, but not nearly as much, or as fast, as Aaron had hoped. 

Shaking his head to clear it of the thoughts of his past, he walked over to his desk and picked up his phone.  "Sharon, send a notice out to Manticore Company, tell them to gear up.  We will deploy in one hour." He quickly told his assistant, having clicked her number on speed dial.

With the call to action sent, he left his study, a tent at the back of the camp, and made his way to the base armory.  He had a personal locker, filled with pieces he had personally collected from small raids on enemy depots.  These raids had been pinpricks, not enough to spark the inferno of war.  This attack on the base would change that. 

With practiced hands, Aaron pulled on the high-tech armor he had procured.  The armor was specially made for Novum, able to tap into the brain, sensing and expanding the abilities they possessed.  The armor was also designed with nanobots, allowing it to self-repair.  Within ten minutes, he had donned the armor.  He reached into the back of the locker, and retrieved his weapon of choice.  An upgraded Kotetsu katana.  Upgraded with the same tech as the armor, it would expand his abilities over the blade, increasing the durability and attack prowess of the blade.  He carried a side arm, a pistol that packed a extremely hot plasma round.  He fastened the Katana to his side, grabbed his helmet, and left the armory, ready to address the troops.

A quick check of his watch revealed that he still had 15 minutes before the company was congregated.  Aaron smiled, just enough time to survey the camp.  He jogged through the camp, heading towards the top of one of the ridges that surrounded the valley camp.  It took him five minutes to reach the top of the ridge.  He stopped next to an old oak tree, his back to the road leading out of the camp.  He gazed down at what he had created.  The camp stretched over the whole valley.  It was separated into four parts.  The northern portion was dedicated to personal tents, living quarters.  The eastern piece was the cooks area, where the army was fed.  Soldiers tended to hang around in the mess square.  The southern portion, closest to him, was the armory and supply depots, where the soldiers were outfitted with clothing, armor, and weaponry.  To the east, the training fields took up the largest portion,  with firing ranges, practice dummies, and a circle for hand-to-hand sparring.  In the very center of camp, was central command.  Aaron spent most of his time in the tent in the middle, going over reports and planning out the attacks with his advisers.  He smiled slightly.  It may have taken five years, but they were finally ready to strike.

Just as he was about to leave his perch on the ridge, a loud crack split the air.  The bark of the oak next to him exploded, a super-heated .50 caliber round lodged deep in the tree.  Aaron spun around.  The road behind him was dominated by two columns of soldiers, with squads of snipers stretched out to either side.  A low rumble gave away the tanks before they rolled around the bend. 

America was striking first.