The Great War

shady milkman

Jul 11, 2005
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My 1st story. Whether I fail horribly or succeed I don't really care, I'm mostly just doing this for fun and to improve my writing skills. This will be an "educational experience" for me, so please, if you have any comments, they are welcome. However, only constructive criticism is welcome; please don't just come in and say my story sucks. Any other comments are welcome.


Warlord ( yes i suck)
Random Opponents, don't know any other map settings

I don't currently have access to Civ, since I'm in the process of moving, but I have a turnlog and I'm going to cobble together what I can with what I have. Once I get my computer back I'll maybe incorporate in-game pics and stuff.

Private Estate of John W. Shrub
Door County, Virginia, United States of America
July 24th, 2056​

Miguel Chavez crouched in the thick underbrush, the dappled green and brown of his woodland fatigues breaking up his silhouette and making him effectively invisible from 100 yards. Chavez rose briefly, taking in every inch of the brownstone chateau through the pallid blue lens of the tritium-lit scope mounted on his FN Special Purpose Rifle. He caught sight of the bay windows in the upper level and ran over the details in his head as he ducked back down behind the bush. His objective had a strict nightly regimen: shower at quarter-till, brush teeth at eight, into the study for a nightcap and some light paperwork at eight-fifteen. It was now eight-fourteen.

Chavez’ breath caught in his throat as a shadow flitted across the wide curtains of an upper-level window…the bay windows. That was the study. Chavez slipped the muzzle of his SPR through a gap in the brush and peered through the scope. The curtains were tossed aside, throwing bars of golden light out across the well-kept bluegrass acreage of the estate. Chavez grinned fiercely as he recognized the face that eighty percent of Americans had grown to hate.
“Eagle One reporting on site, target acquired. Holding for effect.”
The response from the mobile support unit came instantaneously. “Copy, Eagle One. You have a green light, I repeat, green light. Fire for effect, over.”

Chavez took a breath and let half of it out, then held it and let the crosshairs slowly play down across his target’s face. He pulled lightly on the hairpin trigger as the crosshairs fell on the man’s chin. The only noise was s small thak as the escaping gas was stifled by the chambered suppressor.

The 7.62 NATO-standard bullet covered the distance to target in less than an eighth of a second, biting eagerly into soft flesh. The slug impacted directly above John Shrub’s collarbone, on the left side, simultaneously slitting the hard tissue of the windpipe and bulldozing through the jugular. Death did not come instantly for Shrub; he crumpled to his knees, then to the floor, realizing with growing horror as he felt the dampness seeping into his suit jacket that the shooting pain in his neck was not, in fact, from a heart attack. He realized, with his last few conscious moments, that he had been shot. As the proverbial lifeblood literally drained out of him, John Shrub, President of the United States, wished he could go back and repent for his countless sins. But that time had passed.

100 yards away, Miguel Chavez lowered his rifle and sighed, less out of remorse or pity than from tiredness.
“Eagle One to Mother Bird, target eliminated.”
“Copy that. Well done, Eagle One. Mother Bird over and out.”

Chavez took no pleasure in taking a life, but he had to admire his marksmanship. It was a textbook neck shot; windpipe and jugular, two for one. After lingering a moment longer, he turned and disappeared noiselessly through the brush.
So how do I put this?

Solid writing, for what's it worth. Technical and mainstream in a Clancy sort of way, though I haven't read him in years.

But where are you going with this "Shrub" thing?

(And on a much lesser note, I always play on Chieftan. Life is enough of a challenge without the Sid designed variety.)
Promising. Waiting for more installments - and, yes, i'm curious too to see where this story is going... revolution in America? Commies taking over the country?

(slightly OT): please adjust the font size and eliminate the italics. It will be much easier to read ;)

Jeremy: Chieftain?!? You tear off all the satisfaction, pal!
Interesting. Is this killing of the President somehow related to the game of Civ that you are playing; high powered rifles would mean that this story begins at least in the Industrial age.

Stories here don't have to follow a Civ game, but I like to figure out how the story relates back to Civ and I haven't made the connection yet after this first chapter.

I will look forward to more installments.

Also, the font was very difficult to read.
@ Jeremy 3.0 - thanks for the feedback! It's good to see another person who plays at a lower level and isn't ashamed. (And trust me, the assassination is pivotal to the rest of the game.)

@ tR1cKy - fonts adjusted.

@ shumble - modern age, actually. And you will figure out just where this is going VERY quickly. :D

@ madviking - i know, it's in Wisconsin. But I like how it sounds so I just decided to use it anyway. :rolleyes:
July 26th, 2056 – The death of a President…always a momentous occurrence, particularly so in this case, when his policies are so hotly debated. The Socialists have been gaining power for decades, and by now they are in the overwhelming majority; they even hold high seats of influence in the upper echelon of government and military. And now, with the repressive President out of the picture, the American Socialist Party is poised to seize the seat of power.

The Socialists bring forward their nominee for the spot; a proactive young upstart by the name of Timothy Rome. Rome is quickly installed as Chairman of the newly-formed Socialist Republic; the change of power is readily accepted by the majority of US citizens, but slightly less so by others, to say the least. John Shrub’s disillusioned loyalists are enraged, blaming the President’s death on the mainly socialist-controlled National Security Agency (a fact they neither confirm nor deny.) Hordes of Republican die-hards riot, causing massive civil unrest in the larger cities and bringing the transition process to a grinding halt.

Meanwhile, many miles away, a particularly nasty green-eyed monster lurks in the shadows, seeing its opportunity to strike…
Private Study of Counselor Bismarck
Berlin, German Republic
August 1st, 2056

Bismarck sat at his desk, idly toying with a rosary, running his fingers over each individual wooden bead and wondering. He wondered about his good friend, John Shrub, wondered how he was doing. He wondered about America, what was so great about it, why America had such wealth while his nation languished in relative poverty. He wondered what he should be doing right now, whether there was anything he could do to make everything work…
“Herr Counselor, Herr Counselor!” Bismarck’s study door was thrown aside, crashing noisily against the wall. Bismarck cast his eyes up at his young Minister of War, Hans Daimler, who was practically hopping with excitement just inside the doorway.
“Please, Hans, that door is brand new. Imported oak. Go ahead.”
“Counselor Bismarck, something important is happening in the American news! Turn to CNN…”

Bismarck gave Daimler an inquisitive look, but wordlessly picked up the remote from his desk and turned to face the television, flicking it on and changing to channel 61.

“…complete chaos here in Washington as Republican Loyalists run the streets, burning buildings, looting stores, roving in gangs and setting upon unfortunate Socialist party members…as you can see behind me, the street here is just in complete and utter chaos…the riot police are being dispatched, but they’re already spread so thin across the city trying to contain the mass riots that they just don’t have enough people to go around.” On the TV screen, the reporter ducked low to the ground and held his free hand over his head as people ran erratically behind him. Clearly visible in the near distance were several cars that appeared to be on fire and three men beating a fourth into a bloody stupor.

“…this is just unbelievable. Never in my seven years doing this could I imagine that the death of one man would cause such chaos. Never in my seven years on this job have I seen anything like this…people are just turning into animals, destroying everything they can see – “

Bismarck flicked the TV off and sat in a state of shock and disbelief, juggling the beads back and forth between his hands, his mind racing. Who would have killed John Shrub? The damn Commies, obviously. He said nothing for several moments, and the room was silent but for the gentle clacking of Bismarck’s rosary as Daimler stood awkwardly nearby. Finally Bismarck swiveled his chair back around to face his advisor.
“Hans…that time has come. You know what to do.”
Cool, I like it.

Is it actually year 2056 in your Civilization game.

I feel like a Nuclear war might be brewing at this point??

Who are you in the game? America or Germany?
@ shumble - yep, it is. Nuclear war, you say? Hmm...'tis possible :groucho:

@ Coinich - honored to have you here.

EDIT: @shumble - missed the latter part of your question. I am America.
Oval Office, The White House
Washington, D.C., United States of America
August 7th, 2056

Timothy Rome sat with his feet up on the desk, his hands folded behind his head, reclining in his executive office chair and relaxing for the first time in weeks. It felt good, but strangely alien, as if he wasn’t sure how to do it anymore. Well, that wasn’t entirely untrue…weeks on end in front of news cameras tend to have that effect on people.

Rome looked up as his good friend and Secretary of Defense, Kyle Beck, entered through the wide double doors. Rome rose and came around from behind his desk to accept Beck’s outstretched hand, and once again Beck marveled at Tim Rome’s made-for-politics nature. He was an imposing figure, powerfully built and with a blazing fire behind his pale gray eyes, but physical intimidation was not at the core of his influence. He carried with him an aura of charm and quiet menace that preceded his presence; this, coupled with a mixture of gregariousness and brilliance and an almost animalistic tenacity had made him the natural choice for the Chairmanship.

“Please, Kyle, have a seat.” Rome gestured Beck to sit, and the two men sank together into the comfortable velour lounge chairs by the bay windows.
“Now then…my secretary said you have something important to show me. Said you almost threw a fit when she tried to pencil you in for tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir. This should’ve gotten to you hours ago, actually. Not to sound cliché, but I’ve got good news and bad news.”
Rome cocked an eyebrow and inclined his head slightly. “Please, Kyle. Don’t let my position taint our friendship. Just call me by my name. But let’s just have the bad news first, get it out of the way.”
Beck nodded and rocked nervously on the edge of his seat before cursing softly and looking his old friend in the eye. “Well, Tim…it’s not good. We got this teletype message this morning from our embassy in Berlin.” Beck leaned forward and extended the folded paper, which Rome took.

Comrade Chairman –

German ambass. Karl Weber sends mess. from Couns. Bismarck: if delivery of 1 met. ton of (EWG) uranium not in Ber. Port by 14/08/56, ext. of peace all. null STOP. Not bluffing, Dep. Ambass Rob Tyler exec. STOP. Being held in Ber. embass. STOP. If no uran. will be exec. STOP.

- Sen. Ambass. Chris Lee

Rome’s eyes flitted quickly across the paper, then again, then a third time, before he folded the paper threefold and tucked it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. There was an unnerving silence for almost five minutes as he thought furiously. Beck could have sworn he heard the gears in the Chairman’s head grinding; if he had, it would have been a relief, for the quiet was suffocating. But Beck had been the Chairman’s best friend since childhood, and he knew it was best to just let Rome think things over when he was in a stew. Finally Rome looked up and gave Beck the rare but familiar uncertain head tilt.

“So what’s the good news?”
Beck bit his lip tentatively. “Well, the good news is that Chris Lee is now dead also. Our guys in Berlin have been observing the embassy since the message came through, just to verify.”
Rome gave Beck a thoughtful glare. “So now they don’t have any leverage…all right, here’s what I think: screw ‘em. We can’t just give them weapons-grade uranium, that's obvious." Rome rose from his chair abruptly and began pacing the room like a tiger, back and forth, his highly polished shoes padding softly on the indigo carpet.
“If our deadline’s in a week, we wait ‘till the last minute. I’ll schedule a press conference, and we’ll make the official declaration then. If this is for real, we need to be able to protect ourselves.” Rome stood still for a moment, contemplating, then continued pacing. “Kyle, I want you to inventory our available firepower and get a report on my desk by tomorrow morning.” Again, he paused, shaking his head in disbelief. What the hell are they playing at? He asked himself. He couldn’t think of any answers. “That’s all, Kyle. Thanks for the heads-up.”
Nice. Kinda reminds me of Coinich's story, if only because of the futuristic setting.
Commie forces take America! Woot Woot!

Unfortunately I kind of had a tiny little problem with my computadora, so I'm just going to let this thread die and start anew with another.
shady milkman said:

Unfortunately I kind of had a tiny little problem with my computadora, so I'm just going to let this thread die and start anew with another.

Well atleast leave a link in another to your new thread. :)
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