Battlefield™ 2042 News

"The MFS-04 Exodus is an Arleigh Burke class destroyer, under the command of a former US Marine. Yes, No-Pats are sailing warships now. It’s a sign of things to come, and one more reason it’s time for this adventure to come to an end.

I’m in my barracks packing up before we dock in Freetown Port. From there I’ll fly to Cairo and start my new life - a position with Synseco Agritech’s corporate communications. The same Synseco that used a private army to squash a riot outside its walled farm last year. The same Synseco whose pineapples went CLANG.

I’m selling out, dear reader. 13 months of fearing for my life has shot my nerves. I wanted to understand the No-Pats, not die as one. If I don’t get off this boat now, I fear I may not have a choice

The Synseco Agritech facility in the Eastern Desert, called “Al Hayit” or “The Wall” by locals.

While my home country is a dustbowl, Egypt boasts a story of renewal. In ‘38, as the world’s traditional bread baskets failed, Synseco Agritech perfected a two part system to replace them. The first, was genetically modified crops that thrived in the most arid of climates. The second, was a revolutionary desert irrigation project.

Why did Synseco choose Egypt for their farm of the future? “A motivated workforce,” says MacKay, who’s spent time in the region, “Egypt is the one place where a No-Pat can ditch that label - go legit - as long as they’re willing to work behind The Wall.”

Which is exactly why I’m taking this job. No more No-Pats.

Synseco’s private army, 4-Sec, quells a riot by starving locals, January 15, 2042.

As we sail silently towards the African coast, I can’t get my conversation with Anghel out of my head. The superpowers are on a collision course. If No-Pats get involved, they could make it a costly and chaotic war. Despite Oz’s best efforts, it’s clear No-Pats are still a fractured group, with varying agendas. If those factions end up in a war within a war, it could shatter a world that has already suffered enough.

About 6:30pm, I’m finally able to see Freetown Port in the distance. Only Rao knows my plans. After 13 months, I feel some regret about leaving, but mostly relief. That is, until the ship lurches away from shore and starts sailing north.

The refugees on board the Exodus would never make it to Egypt.

This can’t be happening.

I run to the bridge, frantic, looking for answers. Sure enough, the old telegraph machine has sparked to life, encoding new instructions from Oz, making my choices for me. Moments later, the Captain barges past me on his way onto the bridge. The last thing I hear before he slams the door is a garbled voice on the comms as Freetown Port grows smaller in the distance...

“...We have one shot at a new future and we’re going to take it...”

"When you’re fleeing a war zone with a gunshot wound and somebody offers you a ride, you don’t ask where they’re headed. That’s how I ended up stranded at Russia's ""Gas Station at The End of the World,"" an oil rig in Antarctica.

The Cheftaya Neft oil facility in Queen Maud Land, Antarctica.

For years, No-Pats across the globe have relied on Russia for their oil but it’s clear, things are changing. Russia and America seem to be at each other’s throats. Just as we arrived, Russia decided to cut off oil to No-Pats. The price to turn the spigot back on is singular allegiance to Russia. A price Oz is unwilling to pay.

“It’s practically a hostage situation,” says Specialist Constantin Anghel, whose own vessel has been stuck here for three weeks. “War is coming, my friend, and everybody knows it.”

His words are prescient. Not a minute later, Klaxons burst to life as an American destroyer appears on the horizon...

The MFS-04 Exodus arrives, plenty armed.

By ‘39, with rising sea levels, nations finally understood to leave Antarctica’s ice alone. That is, except Russia, who secretly violated an international treaty protecting the continent from drilling. A remote science facility quietly became a refining operation responsible for 4000 barrels of crude daily. “It’s only a matter of time until America comes for this place,” whistles Anghel, “and not to save the penguins.”

Over time, more No-Pat vessels wind up stranded here, debating the offer of fuel for fealty. The cold and isolation is crippling. Many take the bargain.

“Shortsighted. No-Pats shouldn’t choose sides,” grunts Constantin, “Think of Poland in World War 1. Their country hadn’t been on a map for 150 years - the Polish Legion did whatever - for whomever - to make sure that when the dust settled, they had a country again. Sometimes war is the only way home.”

That last line. I’ve heard those words before, from Oz. It’s a rallying cry. But this isn’t a few thousand fighting for a flag, this is 1.2 billion with little to unite them. No-Pats aren’t the Polish, they’re a powder keg.

As Anghel predicted, war reached Queen Maud Land by year’s end.

After the Klaxons start, the sound of two 15MM starbursts rattle the ice shelves from the shore. I understand enough Russian now to catch two words: “Cowboys” and “War.”

The American ship returns a warning shot from its cannon as a confident voice blaring from the ship’s radio orders the Russians to stand down. That’s when I notice the ship is flying the No-Pat emblem, not Old Glory. I’d later learn Oz had sent in his most trusted captain to extract the stranded No-Pats that Russia was trying to coerce.

I race to be among the refugees boarding the ship, designated MFS-04 Exodus, with Anghel’s words echoing in my ears. There’s a fight coming that I want nothing to do with, and yet, here I am on a warship. Perhaps Oz is right. War is the only way home."

"A 44 gallon double wrapped garbage bag is capable of holding about 22 kilos. The average weight of a 10,000 SGD note is 1.081 Grams, which means the bag the Russians just tossed to the ship from a Sierra class submarine is worth over 200 million SGD.

Immediately an old telegraph machine on the command bridge sprang to life. It was Oz. Paik read the message. “We will receive 5 Containers. Get them to Kourou… jugeullae!?”

A day later we conducted another mid-ocean trade but this time with a Russian cargo ship that craned over the 5 containers destined for French Guiana. The manifest claimed they were filled with Synseco GMO pineapples - shelf stable for up to 24 months. Why did the Russians need No-Pats to ferry their fruit? First, French Guiana was easily one of the most dangerous places on Earth. Secondly, when those containers landed on the deck, the pineapples inside made a very distinct CLANG.

The Kremlin denies any involvement in the sabotage of the closed EU launch site in Kourou.

Three weeks later, we were moving our cargo by rail to French Guiana. I’d never have thought this place would be of interest to the superpowers, but the Blackout of 2040 had upended a world already on its head.
“Everyone thinks about the Blackout killing their internet, but the military implications were the real kicker,” explains Rao. “Having no spy satellites got both superpowers scrambling to get hardware back in the sky.” The Americans had just lost Canaveral to the sea, so it didn't take long before people started speculating that they were poking around the old EU launch site in Korou. “The perfect place to launch your illegal space death lasers without anyone the wiser.” Rao laughs

The cause of the Blackout of 2040 is still unknown, though theories abound.

Russia must have believed the rumors, because they’ve been encouraging uprisings against the American presence in French Guiana. “Sparking unrest is sort of Russia’s specialty,” smirks another Specialist, Maria Falck. “And it doesn’t take much to get this place riled up,” the former combat medic says, sounding a bit worried about what’s to come.

The aftermath of the American ambush in Korou.

We arrived in Kourou a week later for the hand off to a local militia, armed with Russian weapons. One by one the containers were opened, revealing -- pineapples. I couldn’t help but laugh, until the fruit was removed unveiling a cache of Volcov multi-munition launchers: the Swiss Army Knife of Russian rocket launchers. But before anybody can even speak, American forces swarm the area, guns blazing. A sharp sting pierced my left side. I blacked out.

When I came to, I was in the back of a flatbed with Maria trying to coordinate an exfil, her bandages wrapped around my abdomen. My first gunshot wound... Hopefully my last.

I keep hearing No-Pats say the world has forced them to do things they never imagined just to survive. Maybe it’s what Oz wanted me to see; what he hoped I’d write. But now, doing Russia’s dirty work, I wonder if No-Pats have lost sight of the cost of survival -- or whether I have."

[h2]PART 4: “THE THIRD FACTION”
[/h2]
MAY 8TH, 2042
SOMEWHERE IN THE YELLOW SEA


“Oz takes ‘need to know’ to a whole new level,” says Mackay with a theatrical eye roll. “We get our destination via telegraph with a fortune cookie’s worth of intel -- then hold onto your butts."

Hence why we’d been floating aimlessly in the Yellow Sea for two days, waiting to hear from on high. Thankfully there had been a steady stream of news on the wire to keep me focused on something other than losing my lunch. One AUN story in particular would soon intersect with this boat in spectacular fashion and shed light on Oz’s machinations.

At approximately 7:30am, an executive assistant at Daesong Electronics made out with 10 petabytes of internal data from their headquarters in Songdo, South Korea on a stolen corporate helicopter. The criminal responsible for the breach, an unassuming Korean woman in her 20s, was suspected of being a foreign intelligence asset, most likely American or Russian.

They couldn’t have been more wrong.

The Songdo Grand Park after the explosive events at Daesong headquarters.


South Korea’s economy is one of the success stories of the last decade, not just surviving, but thriving. However, one company deserves the lion’s share of the credit: Daesong Electronics.

Before the Blackout, almost the entire world had switched to satellite internet. After that disaster in 2040 plunged us into the dark ages, this earth-bound ISP sprang up from obscurity with a next-gen solution they’d developed for underserved markets. It was called K-Net, promising to get the world back online without needing to repopulate the heavens with expensive hardware.

By the spring of 2041, Daesong had 60% of all internet traffic running through its veins, which eventually flowed into the Quantum Data center in the heart of Songdo. For the US and Russian intelligence networks, infiltrating that trove of information would provide an overwhelming tactical advantage.

What I didn't realize was that there was a third faction interested in Daesong, entrenched in these intel wars...

Daesong funded the construction of Grand Park in the wake of Hurricane Vera.



I finish the news and go above deck for some air when I spot something in the distance - a flaming jet black helicopter with the unmistakable Daesong logo emblazoned on its side.

Everyone rushes over to the edge of the ship as the chopper crashes - when that unassuming Korean woman from the headlines floats down across the deck with her parachute. I’ll come to know her as the Specialist Ji-Soo Paik, the No-Pat mole who infiltrated Daesong at Oz’s behest.

As Casper and Rao usher her below deck, my brain is firing at a million miles an hour. After Singapore, I was convinced all No-Pats were sympathetic underdogs, making hard choices to help the destitute survive. But here were some infiltrating tech giants, beating the superpowers at their own game.

Perhaps the conspiracy theories aren’t all fake news.


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