A Call to Arms

Fall of Normal Life

Two days before the internet goes down you’d just received word from your Skyline forum.
An emergency meeting was being called. All members who attended would be initiated into Big Chiefs Elite Clan Skyline. Usually you don’t bother with such gatherings, but somehow, you know this to be different.

Only 5,000 of the 20,000 plus members of the forum received BCs exclusive rallying cry and of those only 150 heeded it by attending in person.

After the meeting, as if somehow sensed by BC, the worldwide internet came to a grinding-halt. Servers simultaneously crashed. Successful attempts were made to re-start the web via local servers but things would never be the same again.

The House of Skyline began its ascent.

From the start though there was tension in the ranks.
The Scottish Skyliners clashed with their English brothers. This was mainly over the choice of name for the faction than any nationalistic differences though.
‘It should be Clan Skyline.’ Came the shout from the bold Jocks.
‘No it should be House Skyline. Clan is a Scottish name and you are on English Land’ came the gruff reply from the Southern English.
‘Hell, just use both terms and save the arguing.’ Called out the Welsh and Northern English drivers.
Big Chief nodded and agreed to this notion from the ranks. There was no more arguing after that. Clan Skyline by over half of them, House Skyline by others. Some used both, the arguments subsided, for the most part.
Now the War Chief made his bold vision for the future.
“Scattered as we are we’ll be swept up by one of the other factions sooner or later. Already some of the factionless Skylines have been scooped up.” He shouted out.
“Only by House AND Clan Skyline uniting as one against the common enemy can we make a stand and carve our own land and power from the chaos.” BC finished, allowing the gathered to think and brood.
“We’ve come to make a stand on how bad things are BC, but what can we do. We are but 150, only half of our machines are battle-functional and our supplies are non-existent.” Came a shout from Richo.
“How so? Did you think I’d summoned you all to a deserted supply compound” Grinned BC along with his right-hand men.
As if in answer 5 mighty UBRE (Unit Bulk Refuelling) Wagons bulking with fuel roared to life and appeared from around the side of a garage building. They parked nearby and began refuelling the mighty beasts from the east.
‘There’s 50,000 litres more where they came from, some spare parts hoarded and donated from the Rising Sun Machine Clan and elsewhere.’ BC continued.
“What of power BC, the powerstations only supply eleky for the daylight hours.” A gruff Yorkshire man called out.
“We’ve ample generators.” He explained.
“What weapons do you have in order to guarantee our safety and protection.’ Came a shout from a Welsh Skyliner.
On this BC fell silent for a moment.
“For now enough, but what you bring will be need also. We do need rifles and pistols. The benefactor only gave us one type of machine gun and ammunition.” BC lamented, pointing to the catche of GPMGs.
“In that case I may be of some use!” The Welsh one; whose name was Jaz, shouted back.
BC nodded. Perhaps this wild plan of his had some hope after all...