2.21: Br Aaron

Date: 4 Monday February 2041ce 1412z
Location: Last World Citadel, Louisville, Kentucky (-0500 Local)

Aaron shook his head in disgust.

“A handful of peasants with thirty-year-old motorcycles,” he said in matching tone.

He went to his lift bars and began a set of pull ups.

The people want Aberdeen put down now!

He considered likely scenarios, based on what he knew of Aberdeen.

That information was ample despite unfortunate limitations. General Archer, like most Southern Bloc officers, had been shunned by the NES military leaders, but still had enough friends who could provide him with intel from around the world. That material became the basis of the strategy and tactics lectures the general held with cadets. But by consequence of its indirect routing, that information was often weeks to months behind the at-the-moment conditions. More that once, their strategic exercises would come to an abrupt halt after an insertion brought down the hive their exercises were based on.

The intel on Aberdeen, however, always carried its own difficulties. He understood their leader to be a Satanic priestess, but he had to appreciate her tactical genius. Despite being decades behind in technology, simple tricks of moving small tent cities about, their paths intertwined and permitting people to switch which camps they are in, made tracing the priestess herself quite difficult.

While muddling attempts to count their population.

The current wisdom was that Aberdeen was keeping their numbers well hidden, that they continued to live in the warrens and creches used in the Resistance Era. It was even possible, General Archer had suggested during one of his many lectures, that even the people of Aberdeen themselves believed it to be true. But as Aaron and the other Chaplains concluded, it was impossible for the vast numbers that Aberdeen claimed to be sustainable given their lack of resources (relative to which even Idaho was deemed wealthy).

The existence of such creches, of course, was most exposed as a lie by the one permanent camp within Aberdeen, a city of huts where the children are communally raised.

Even at their most barbaric, fucking liberals remain socialists.

He found himself in agreement with General Archer’s final assessment, that Aberdeen’s population was about half of what was visible and projections upwards of that were based on entirely false assumptions.

Haven’t these quantum brains the secularists invented figured it out yet?

He released his grip, standing beneath the bar with his arms stretching upwards as he began to stretch out his shoulders and upper back.

Just nuke the fucks and be done with it.

It just seemed like a lot of trouble to him; The world was ending and there was no reason not to turn Aberdeen into glass-filled craters.

Let’s see them praise Lucifer’s name then!

He glanced at the clock; Following the news while working out, he’d lost track of time.

I need a shower… And breakfast.



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