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The Assembly - Dys_Assemble Fan Fiction

General Discussion regarding the Source Engine modification, Dystopia.

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The Assembly - Dys_Assemble Fan Fiction

Postby KilleR_OrigiNs » Tue Sep 03, 2013 4:43 am

Hello! I'm new to the forum, not terribly new to Dystopia, but recently getting back into the game. Anyways, I wrote this little bit of fan fiction based off a few other fan fictions, and a lot of the wikipedia that I read through (Lots) to get a general feel for the Dystopian world, as well as the actual emotions played through out.

Anyways, hope you enjoy!
(Also, be critical, I'd like to improve my writing.)
_________________________________________________________________________

//DATATRUST SECURITY LOG//
//DATE: 1SEPT2072//
//STATUS: AMBER//
//PRO-STAT: GREEN//
//SEC-STAT: AMBER//
----
//CURRENT FACILITY STATUS IS AMBER.
//CURRENT SECURITY LEVEL IS 3 - TWO HEAVIES AND THREE MEDIUM SECURITY PERSONNEL ARE ON SITE.
//SECURITY SERVERS ARE CODE: GREEN.
. . .
//SECURITY LEVEL ONE PERIMETER BROKEN.
//LEVEL ONE COMPROMISED, RAISING SECURITY LEVEL TO CODE RED.
//SENDING SECURITY STATUS REQUEST TO LEVEL ONE SECURITY.
. . .
//LEVEL ONE SECURITY NOT RESPONDING.
//INITIATING FORCED SECURITY STATUS.
//LEVEL ONE APTS OFFLINE.
//REQUESTING ADDITIONAL SECURITY TO LEVEL TWO.
//PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: MAINTAIN DATATRUST SECURITY SERVERS.
//SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: MAINTAIN ASSEMBLY PRODUCTION.
----

The decker smiled, the code that he was viewing was delightful.

The CORPS were scared.

"If there was ever a time to get your asses moving, now would be it." He said this with un-moving lips. Telepathy would be the closest thing that could describe talking anymore.

"Copy, Alpha team moving to position."

He watched through the security footage on level one as the A.R.E.U. moved forward. Their goal was to destroy some data security terminals that the CORPS buried deep underground. Thing was, that they also had a laser next to those data terminals. Never much for planning buildings.

"Note that original security is now bolstered. There are now four mediums, two heavies, and three lights. All turrets are either disabled or set to our coding."

"Good copy. Just get a fire going, we're gonna need it to cook all of this PIG."

A few of the men from Charlie team began chanting, "Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!" as they moved forward behind the podium. The CORPS knew no limits, they were hiding their filthy dungeons below churches now. As bad a taste it left in his mouth, even he had to admit, it was clever.

The decker watched the assault force move to the first door, something the scouts had already moved through. He could see his friends in the monitor, men and women he had known his whole life, some he had only just met...

"And remember, hide in plain sight!"

One of the medium assault troops in Charlie yelled back to him "And kill from the shadows!"

The rest responded by hitting their chest plates three times.

--

3v0lU7I0N is a major punk faction. Before the great uprising, they ran large scale “ operations. Mostly in Eurasia, but as they grew, so did their AO. They spread, unknowingly to the CORPS, all over the world.

Once in the U.D.C., the punks began to work together against the CORPS. Factions began to mean less, and sides were made much more apparent. When the Uprising began was the first time there was no major declaration of gang.

It was the first time there was a common goal.

--

"Decker, get this door open."

The voice rang in his head, not around it, but through his very mind. He could see through the security screen that they were finally in position.

"Open in three..."

Just as they practiced, the door slide open both up and down, and the insertion team moved in.

After years in 3v0lU7I0N, he could see the tactics had increased quite a bit. They used to just be a bunch of PUNKS, but now they were the best. The elite.

The hallway broke into two corridors, both covered by a Therm. Turret. They'd be safe for another few feet, after that... He couldn't be sure.

An alarm drew his attention away from the screen and back to cyberspace. A counter decker.

"Enemy has a decker, you'll be without one for a bit."

"Copy."

He launched himself backwards out of the little hut that housed the security panel. The deckers looked exactly alike, save for the PIG decker being blue, and himself being red.

He though, 'Just like swimming with a shark, just gotta kill him before he kills me.'

--

"This is Alpha team, we're in position in the over look. Enemy has two heavies guarding the main JIP, with lights on the catwalk providing cover. Mediums are on a patrol path throughout."

"Bravo and Charlie here, good copy. We'll commence assault in t-minus ten seconds."

Those were the longest ten seconds of any of their lives.

The stealthers stood motionless waiting for the word to break the glass and start firing. They watched as the medium soldiers walked back and forth along the production lines, watched the heavy robots standing still as statues made of metal and death. The light soldiers scanned the entry ways, waiting for targets to populate their huds.

"...4...3...2...1... ENGAGE ENGAGE ENGAGE!"

The glass broke open to hell itself. The heavies immediately began moving, acquiring the mediums and heavies of Bravo and Charlie teams as they stormed their side of the catwalk and the lower bay doors.

"Focus fire on the Fatty Pigs, take them out before they spin up those hell cannons."

The laser rifle in his hands felt heavier than usual.

The sniper sat just behind the two other stealthers, they fired bolt after bold into the heavies, only just denting their armor.

The charge of his LR was taking longer, and everyone was moving slower. Time itself was slowing for him.

"This little piggy..." he exhaled.

Full charge, release trigger. Hit feedback. BOOP.

"... Went to the market..." inhale.

Full charge, release trigger. Hit feedback. Dead heavy.

"And this little piggy..."

The bolts bounced off the second heavy as his rifle began another charge. It's robotic gaze drifted directly to the overlook, and fired it's minigun. The two stealthers in front took the brunt of the fire, both dropped dead.

"This is Alpha, two men down. Get that fat ass off of me!"

--

"Affirmative" the heavy responded with an unwavering robotic voice.

It fired one rocket into the final CORPS heavy, which knocked it back. It fell to the ground against the production glass, it's minigun firing first toward the ceiling, then readjusting down to the PUNK heavy.

"You want some more?"

A second rocket from the other heavy finished it, but not before the CORPS sniper knocked the first heavy's head off.

--

"Not in my net, n00b."

A final hit scan sent the CORPS decker back to his meat sack. His energy was low, and the world around felt like it was slowly collapsing in on him. The energy left behind by the CORPS decker wasn't enough to keep him going.

"Give me a SITREP."

There was a gap in time where they talked amongst themselves, the camera showed the PIGs sending walls of lead to his men.

"Amber on ammo, and three casualties. One heavy, and tw..." An explosion interrupted the transmission. "This is Charlie leader, make that four casualties."

"Copy, how much bacon you got?"

"Seven, two heavies down, two lights, and three mediums. The last two are just a few seconds from the grill."

"Copy. I'll send it up to SB."

The deckers vision instantly returned to his body. Decking out was the worst feeling in the world, aside from decking in. Decking in was ice surging through your mind, and your body. Decking out was fire. His breath caught as he gathered himself.

After a few seconds he started; "Command, this is the A.R.E.U., assault is moving forward as planned. Six casualties, and amber on ammo. Advise current status goal."

There was another break of silence. God he hated silence. It meant someone died, or that he lost his hearing sensors... In any case, silence was a bad thing to hear.

"7#1$ 1$ $w17<#B|@D3. K33p p*$#1Ng f0rw@Rd. R31Nf0R<3m3N7$ W1|| B D3|1V3r3D $#0r7|y."
(This is Switchblade. Keep pushing forward. Reinforcements will be delivered shortly.)

"Copy that command, Alpha out."

He looked back from his JIP to see the spawn pads scattered about. It took them no longer than fifteen minutes to set them up, but they took a hellofa lot of power to get running.

"How's my bacon coming?"

--

"Well, unless you like it raw, you'd best get a fire going." The medium assault stood triumphantly atop a medium CORPS corpse. She held her tesla rifle loosely down, aiming at nothing in particular.

"Done already?" He decked back in to check the security feed, the area looked secured. Strange. Not even in the weakest training were they this easy.

"Alright, I'm moving up. Cover that ramp till I've shut down the production facility."

"Copy."

--

"Sir, you don't understand the gravity of the situation... No sir, we've been wiped out... Yes sir, the entire team... Copy, beginning movement to site."

The CORPS decker looked at his screen in absolute hatred. They killed everyone of his men, including himself, in under five minutes. It's either his men need to do more training... No. They needed more training.

"What'd they tell you sir?"

"We've been reassigned to the silo."

"What?!" His sniper was always the melodramatic one.

"The silo. Move to spawn there immediately, the punks have assaulted it before and there's reason to believe today they'll strike again."

"But what about these punks? WE'RE ALREADY AT THE PARTY!"

He looked dead on at the floating 'ghost', "Two shots or three Dever?"

"Ffff... Four..." The light looked twitchy even though they were all in limbo.

"Four shots Dever. That would kill a grown man. You're not even half that size."

"Fuck you... S-s-ssir.” Judging by his jitters in purgatory, he'd probably rip the skin right off his arm. If he had one.

"Begin spawn at the silo. I'll brief you when we get there."

The 'ghosts' began moving to the transport connection for transfer to their new assignment.



The term 'purgatory' was termed by one of the first soldiers to be initialized in the nanite program. When you die in the fight now, you don't stay dead. Bodies don't mean anything in Dystopia, their nothing more than meatsacks.

Pain was phased out even earlier than death, so death is only a learning experience.

Once you die, you get sent back to a cybernetic medium, a place where your neural wavelengths gather and reset. It gives the soldier time to comprehend their recent mistakes, and formulate better attack plans. Some say the best soldiers have been around for more than fifty years. Battle hardened vets given a second body, and a whole new war.

Another benefit was found to purgatory, due to there being no actual body for the ghost, the soldier could choose to inhabit any body they liked. Granted, the higher ups on either side preferred to keep things simple.

You could be any of the pre-designed class choices.

--

"Sir, understood sir."

The leader of the Advent looked back from his JIP to his men. One heavy, four lights, and three mediums. The room they were in was a specially designed purgatory. It appeared to be a lounge, with a wall sized virtual window on one side. Through it they could view any of the selected vacation sites... From the year twenty ten. His men sat comfortably on a circular couch, all except Shela of course.

"New job boss?"

"Good job to have too. Punks are assaulting a mining laser assembly facility. Elite. Punks."

"Unless I've heard of them, they ain't shit." Pown was always a cocky bastard. But with his kill average, cocky was something he earned.

"Evolution. Area Reconnaissance and Elimination Unit. Best of the best."

The silence in the room indicated one of two things, his men were scared, or they were excited.

They were never scared.

"What is their specification?" The heavies metallic voice never quite sounded right to him. He had the voice simulator modified to sound feminine.

"Well Shela, glad you asked. Two heavies, three mediums, three lights, and a decker of undeclared size."

"..Current weapon loadout?" Her ghost reacted the slowest, so there was a pause before she spoke.

"Two Rawks, two ARs, one tesla, two bolts, one LR. LR is a hell of a shot too. Took out an MG heavy on his own."

"Heh. We'll see about that." Pown Cocky Whateverthefuck. The Advent had one main rule when it came to names, you didn't have one. You earned one in battle, and Pown got his when he killed three heavies of different weapon types, and two medium tesla soldiers. If that wasn't amazing enough, he did it with a light body, and only stock ammo.

"When do they want us?"

"Now. Get your gear and get to the transfer link. We're there in five seconds."
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Re: The Assembly - Dys_Assemble Fan Fiction

Postby termi » Mon Sep 30, 2013 9:43 pm

That's a fun read, nice work man :)
Team T, you know you want it.
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Re: The Assembly - Dys_Assemble Fan Fiction

Postby Alisha45 » Fri Nov 22, 2013 6:40 am

Thanks for sharing.
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