Post by redrobin65 on Oct 13, 2019 15:59:33 GMT
June 10th, 2019, Toronto
The city was in a massive panic.
A crisis has been brewing for months, and the superpowers were displeased with one another. Various countries were acting aggressively; a naval standoff in the Taiwan Strait, NATO and Russian aircraft harassing each other over the Baltic, and Iran and the United States were threatening each other again.
Just another month in world diplomacy, right?
Unfortunately, it was not business as usual. Shadowing ships and buzzing aircraft got closer and closer to their adversaries, who felt little choice but to shoot. This spiralled out of control and lead to tensions reaching a boiling point over the course of several weeks. Finally, what many had feared for decades came to pass: World War Three.
NATO forces were barely holding in Eastern Europe as their Russian counterparts surged forwards. PLAN and JMSDF ships blasted each other out of the water on a daily basis. The Middle East, already home to multiple wars, was introduced to a new war with Iran and Saudi Arabia fighting. Everywhere, it seemed like the world was ending.
Returning to where we left off, Toronto wasn’t directly affected by the war. Both of the city’s airports were used to fly Canadian troops to Europe, but nothing else occurred. Unlike the United States, there weren’t many large-scale enemy commando operations or bombing/missile attacks other than a failed attempt to block the Welland Canal and a cruise missile strike on the naval base at Halifax.
For a week, the city held its breath as fighting raged around the world. Everyone worried about a possible nuclear exchange, in which Toronto would certainly be hit. Though it no longer had any large military bases, its size, air and rail infrastructure, small harbour on Lake Ontario, and the fact that is was the largest city in Canada guaranteed that Toronto would be vaporized in a nuclear exchange.
And despite all the worry, people slowly began to calm down. Nobody had been nuked after a week, so…maybe nobody was going to get nuked? People began to emerge from basements and go to work and school. There were other things to be upset about, such as the recent fall of Warsaw (and with it several hundred Canadian troops) and the near-total halt of international trade. At least nobody had used The Bomb, right?
Well, it turns out that a week is plenty of time to wait. By now, NATO was in the midst of heated debate whether or not to use its nuclear weapons to halt the advance of Russia and its allies. The fall of Warsaw had seen several thousand NATO soldiers taken prisoner. Combined with heavy casualties taken during the retreat across Poland, there was not much to resist the Russians between the Vistula and the Oder. Oh, reinforcements were coming, but not fast enough! Diplomatic feelers sent by the Russians had indicated that they wanted an end to the war; NATO refused. Though they had suffered defeat after defeat, the spirit of the alliance demanded that they fight to the last.
Contrary to what various Russian “news” outlets have said years after the event, the first bomb wasn’t actually dropped on a Russian formation; no, it was the Kazakh 35th Guards Air Assault Brigade that was obliterated as it moved through the town of Kutno. The 35th was part of the corps that President Tamayev had been pressured into sending to fight NATO by his Russian counterpart. NATO threatened more bombings if the Russians did not halt their advance.
Several Russian leaders advised their President to heed NATO’s advice; despite the nuke, Russia might be able to dig in, consolidate its gains, and hold for several months to exhaust NATO and hopefully sign a favourable peace. The feasibility of this strategy is up for debate, but it didn’t matter: the President refused. He ordered a “proportionate nuclear response” against a NATO combat unit. Less than six hours after Kutno, the British 3rd Armoured Division was wiped out when two short-range ballistic missiles from Kaliningrad struck its positions around Bydgoszcz. NATO retaliated by destroying the launch sites for the missiles (and most of Kaliningrad as well). The Russians responded by sending a few warheads towards Brussels.
Back in Toronto, the slightly optimistic outlook was replaced by panic once again. When the nuclear genie came out of the bottle, it was hard to put it back in. People fled the city in all directions, with the Don Valley Parkway and Highways 401, 404 and even the usually fast 407 clogged with cars. They needed to leave as soon as possible. Their fears were confirmed with news of incoming nuclear missiles. It was the end of everything.
Despite all the fleeing, quite a few people had stayed behind. Some had nowhere to go, but many had decided that dying from radiation or bandits was worse than being vaporized. One of those people was a man named Mike.
Mike had grown up in the city and, aside from a brief stint in the Navy, had lived there all his life. He worked in First Canadian Place, a large office complex. Many people had either failed to show up for work or had fled when the 1950s-era sirens started to wail. Mike was not one of them. Toronto was his home, and he preferred to go up in flames with it rather than leave. He gazed out of the window of the office common area and looked down at the streets, where people were running in all directions.
“Idiotic, isn’t it?”
Mike turned around and saw his boss, Scott, walk into the common area.
“I thought you would’ve left.”
Scott shook his head. “No, I don’t see a point in trying to leave. Have you seen those pictures of the 401 on TV?”
Mike nodded. “Yeah, plenty of cars out there. Where do you think they’ll go?”
Scott shrugged. “Who knows. I sent my wife and kids to the cottage in Muskoka last week, so they should be fine. My parents, on the other hand…they live in Edmonton.”
Mike winced. Edmonton, with its large military base and oil refineries, would certainly be wiped off the map.
“How about you? Where’s your family?”
Mike smiled sadly. “They’re all over. Mom and Dad are over in Hamilton, my sister works in the House of Commons…” Mike frowned, knowing his sister would be in one of the most obvious nuclear targets in Canada. “And my brother’s in the Army.”
“Oh. Was he deployed?”
“Yeah. 2nd Battalion, Royal Canadian Regiment”
Scott frowned. “Isn’t there some CBC reporter with them in Poland?”
“Oh yes. You should have seen…”
Unbeknownst to the two men, high above the earth, a bat floated. His name was Skippy, and he happened to be an alien from space. The ASB was upset. While he allowed all kinds of wars to happen, he didn’t want to see humanity become extinct. Where would he get most of his entertainment if the humans went away? No, he needed to intervene. Skippy snapped his fingers and the effects would be quite interesting.
Warheads streaked towards their targets. Three were slated for the Greater Toronto Area.
Back in the office, Mike and Scott were looking at their watches.
“Shouldn’t it have happened already?” asked Scott.
“Any second now.” Mike said.
Suddenly, there was a roar, and the ground shuddered. Mike closed his eyes, waiting for the end…which didn’t come.
Mike and Scott looked around. The common area was still there. The office was still there. The building was still there. Toronto was still there.
“Well? Are we dead?”
Mike looked around. “Nope. I don’t actually...”
“Hey, look at this!” Scott exclaimed.
Mike moved over to the window and gazed down at the street. He was shocked at what he saw.
“I don’t believe it!”
“Come on, Mike, let’s get a glimpse up close.”
The men ran out of the office and down the fire escape, emerging outside fifteen minutes later. They ran around a corner and stopped near the intersection of Bay and Adelaide streets, where a crowd had gathered. No one spoke.
The crowd had surrounded a crater in the middle of the intersection. Inside the crater was a large cylindrical object with a pointy head. Emblazoned on the object was the Russian tricolour.
Similar scenes played out all over Canada and the US, in Europe and Russia, the Middle East, China, the divided Koreas, Japan, Australia and many more places around the world as nuclear warheads, bombs, and shells failed to work properly. Skippy had done his job; the political and social fallout from these events would entertain him for years.
The city was in a massive panic.
A crisis has been brewing for months, and the superpowers were displeased with one another. Various countries were acting aggressively; a naval standoff in the Taiwan Strait, NATO and Russian aircraft harassing each other over the Baltic, and Iran and the United States were threatening each other again.
Just another month in world diplomacy, right?
Unfortunately, it was not business as usual. Shadowing ships and buzzing aircraft got closer and closer to their adversaries, who felt little choice but to shoot. This spiralled out of control and lead to tensions reaching a boiling point over the course of several weeks. Finally, what many had feared for decades came to pass: World War Three.
NATO forces were barely holding in Eastern Europe as their Russian counterparts surged forwards. PLAN and JMSDF ships blasted each other out of the water on a daily basis. The Middle East, already home to multiple wars, was introduced to a new war with Iran and Saudi Arabia fighting. Everywhere, it seemed like the world was ending.
Returning to where we left off, Toronto wasn’t directly affected by the war. Both of the city’s airports were used to fly Canadian troops to Europe, but nothing else occurred. Unlike the United States, there weren’t many large-scale enemy commando operations or bombing/missile attacks other than a failed attempt to block the Welland Canal and a cruise missile strike on the naval base at Halifax.
For a week, the city held its breath as fighting raged around the world. Everyone worried about a possible nuclear exchange, in which Toronto would certainly be hit. Though it no longer had any large military bases, its size, air and rail infrastructure, small harbour on Lake Ontario, and the fact that is was the largest city in Canada guaranteed that Toronto would be vaporized in a nuclear exchange.
And despite all the worry, people slowly began to calm down. Nobody had been nuked after a week, so…maybe nobody was going to get nuked? People began to emerge from basements and go to work and school. There were other things to be upset about, such as the recent fall of Warsaw (and with it several hundred Canadian troops) and the near-total halt of international trade. At least nobody had used The Bomb, right?
Well, it turns out that a week is plenty of time to wait. By now, NATO was in the midst of heated debate whether or not to use its nuclear weapons to halt the advance of Russia and its allies. The fall of Warsaw had seen several thousand NATO soldiers taken prisoner. Combined with heavy casualties taken during the retreat across Poland, there was not much to resist the Russians between the Vistula and the Oder. Oh, reinforcements were coming, but not fast enough! Diplomatic feelers sent by the Russians had indicated that they wanted an end to the war; NATO refused. Though they had suffered defeat after defeat, the spirit of the alliance demanded that they fight to the last.
Contrary to what various Russian “news” outlets have said years after the event, the first bomb wasn’t actually dropped on a Russian formation; no, it was the Kazakh 35th Guards Air Assault Brigade that was obliterated as it moved through the town of Kutno. The 35th was part of the corps that President Tamayev had been pressured into sending to fight NATO by his Russian counterpart. NATO threatened more bombings if the Russians did not halt their advance.
Several Russian leaders advised their President to heed NATO’s advice; despite the nuke, Russia might be able to dig in, consolidate its gains, and hold for several months to exhaust NATO and hopefully sign a favourable peace. The feasibility of this strategy is up for debate, but it didn’t matter: the President refused. He ordered a “proportionate nuclear response” against a NATO combat unit. Less than six hours after Kutno, the British 3rd Armoured Division was wiped out when two short-range ballistic missiles from Kaliningrad struck its positions around Bydgoszcz. NATO retaliated by destroying the launch sites for the missiles (and most of Kaliningrad as well). The Russians responded by sending a few warheads towards Brussels.
Back in Toronto, the slightly optimistic outlook was replaced by panic once again. When the nuclear genie came out of the bottle, it was hard to put it back in. People fled the city in all directions, with the Don Valley Parkway and Highways 401, 404 and even the usually fast 407 clogged with cars. They needed to leave as soon as possible. Their fears were confirmed with news of incoming nuclear missiles. It was the end of everything.
Despite all the fleeing, quite a few people had stayed behind. Some had nowhere to go, but many had decided that dying from radiation or bandits was worse than being vaporized. One of those people was a man named Mike.
Mike had grown up in the city and, aside from a brief stint in the Navy, had lived there all his life. He worked in First Canadian Place, a large office complex. Many people had either failed to show up for work or had fled when the 1950s-era sirens started to wail. Mike was not one of them. Toronto was his home, and he preferred to go up in flames with it rather than leave. He gazed out of the window of the office common area and looked down at the streets, where people were running in all directions.
“Idiotic, isn’t it?”
Mike turned around and saw his boss, Scott, walk into the common area.
“I thought you would’ve left.”
Scott shook his head. “No, I don’t see a point in trying to leave. Have you seen those pictures of the 401 on TV?”
Mike nodded. “Yeah, plenty of cars out there. Where do you think they’ll go?”
Scott shrugged. “Who knows. I sent my wife and kids to the cottage in Muskoka last week, so they should be fine. My parents, on the other hand…they live in Edmonton.”
Mike winced. Edmonton, with its large military base and oil refineries, would certainly be wiped off the map.
“How about you? Where’s your family?”
Mike smiled sadly. “They’re all over. Mom and Dad are over in Hamilton, my sister works in the House of Commons…” Mike frowned, knowing his sister would be in one of the most obvious nuclear targets in Canada. “And my brother’s in the Army.”
“Oh. Was he deployed?”
“Yeah. 2nd Battalion, Royal Canadian Regiment”
Scott frowned. “Isn’t there some CBC reporter with them in Poland?”
“Oh yes. You should have seen…”
Unbeknownst to the two men, high above the earth, a bat floated. His name was Skippy, and he happened to be an alien from space. The ASB was upset. While he allowed all kinds of wars to happen, he didn’t want to see humanity become extinct. Where would he get most of his entertainment if the humans went away? No, he needed to intervene. Skippy snapped his fingers and the effects would be quite interesting.
Warheads streaked towards their targets. Three were slated for the Greater Toronto Area.
Back in the office, Mike and Scott were looking at their watches.
“Shouldn’t it have happened already?” asked Scott.
“Any second now.” Mike said.
Suddenly, there was a roar, and the ground shuddered. Mike closed his eyes, waiting for the end…which didn’t come.
Mike and Scott looked around. The common area was still there. The office was still there. The building was still there. Toronto was still there.
“Well? Are we dead?”
Mike looked around. “Nope. I don’t actually...”
“Hey, look at this!” Scott exclaimed.
Mike moved over to the window and gazed down at the street. He was shocked at what he saw.
“I don’t believe it!”
“Come on, Mike, let’s get a glimpse up close.”
The men ran out of the office and down the fire escape, emerging outside fifteen minutes later. They ran around a corner and stopped near the intersection of Bay and Adelaide streets, where a crowd had gathered. No one spoke.
The crowd had surrounded a crater in the middle of the intersection. Inside the crater was a large cylindrical object with a pointy head. Emblazoned on the object was the Russian tricolour.
Similar scenes played out all over Canada and the US, in Europe and Russia, the Middle East, China, the divided Koreas, Japan, Australia and many more places around the world as nuclear warheads, bombs, and shells failed to work properly. Skippy had done his job; the political and social fallout from these events would entertain him for years.
