John Halo's Bizarre /pol/ Adventure

John Halo’s Bizarre /pol/ Adventure

In the year of our Lord, eighteen-hundred and thirty-five, all was wrong in the world. Years of political turmoil that were supposed to end with centralization and the new constitution had broken into rebellion. This was no problem by itself, but the issue was that the Norteamericanos had intervened in their own false flag rebellion. Tejas had broken with Coahuila, had broken with Mexico and had broken with God. Divine punishment at the end of our lances will set them straight.

Except it hadn’t. Instead, I, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, had been beaten, my army destroyed by fire that stuck to everything and would not be put out. The horses suffered the worst. And as insult, some...thing had taken me prisoner. He was too tall, too metallic, too fast and too green to be human, yet he spoke Spanish well enough, though of a strange buzzing Castilian dialect.

“Texas is the first state of the new United Humanity. And, well, Mexico as well. We already have Mexico City under our control as well. Guess we should have started in Germany after all, we would have to learn a second language anyway, or at least synth like now. Hmm…”
He seemed lost in his own thoughts, as if he didn’t consider me quite, well, real. As a bothersome fly, or a child that needed discipline. “Wait, how could you have captured Mexico City? That’s nearly 1000 miles away, and you are just one man!”

Eventually he looked back at me. “Oh? Did you say something? Hold on…” He started muttering, and a feminine voice muttered back in what seemed like English, and then I heard my own voice repeating what I had said a moment ago. “Right, first of all, we can fly, and second, I’m not alone, but I was all that was needed to capture this force of, er, not much more than 3,000 now. Napalm’s an old dirty trick, but just what we needed to show that we were capable of anything.”

We must be in some Hell, or relegated to a lower plane, or else made not real. He wasn’t even really cognizant of all the lives he singlehandedly had took in a span of 45 minutes, and now had the audacity to say that all of Mexico had fallen? Listening further, mentions of a new capital in a place he called Austin, how he was betraying every aspect of the revolution by setting up a dictatorship with themselves at the top, it was all madness. Extermination of the Negroes and Jews? An end to the caste system, whatever Technofascism was, and a Humanity wide gift of a “Make Earth Great Again” hat.

I hate the Jews and Negroes as much as any true blooded patriot of the Empire, but extermination?

“What is your name, you crazed fool?”

“uh.. Master Chief Petty Officer of the remnants of the United Nations Space Command, John Halo. I gave myself a last name. Was John 117 before that, but I figured that since we must build a future’n all that, I’d need a name women would want. What’s yours?”

“J-just call me Santa Anna.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
“UNITED HUMANITY SHALL BOW BEFORE NO ONE; ALL NATIONS WILL BE FORCIBLY JOINED TO OUR FEDERATION. NATIONAL SOVREIGNITY MAY BE PRESERVED, BUT ALL WILL GIVE TO THE DEFENSE OF HUMANITY AS A WHOLE. FOR THE UNBORN GENERATIONS SLAUGHTERED BY THE ENEMY, WE PROCLAIM THIS SACRED OATH. NEVER AGAIN. LET THE VICTOR BE JUSTICE.”

-Opening lines of the United Humanity charter.

The Fall of Earth hadn’t gone well. Years of intergalactic war against The Covenant, or some other aliens, doesn’t matter too much at this point, plus an intense civil war at the very end of the Reds vs the Blues had destroyed humanity, and only the deus ex machina like invention of a time machine that took the last remnants of the UNSC to the past would have any chance of preparing mankind. Much thought was put into whether to try to build a Warhammer 40k or a Star Wars style empire, but eventually a militarized Starfleet style was accepted. To boldly go where no man had gone before, colonize, and subjugate any natives that couldn’t be brought onboard willingly after a set period of time would be the order of business, with the uplift of species deemed useful, or neat, or sexy, or were dinosaurs, would be needed as well.

Unfortunately, only the top scientists and crayon munching marines survived to reach the past. A few AI as well, particularly one who claimed that they weren’t real at all but were the poorly written fanfiction of the man she loved. She was a weirdo and won’t be mentioned much more.

Upon hearing all this, Santa Anna had asked just one question. “Why Texas, if the US and Britain and The Germanies would be more industrialized? Surely with your power you could take the coal mines from Britain or unite the Germanies into one.”

John Halo, Space Marine, had this to counter. “Well, Texas is a pretty cool place. Also, the entire gulf is filled with a near infinite supply of Petroleum, which you probably haven’t discovered yet, the Americans would resist endlessly, God bless em, the limeys are gay and would also die endlessly for that hottie, queen Vicky. Germany would be a pain in the ass, and we’d be called racist by the French, and then constantly invaded by dumbasses when we don’t wish anyone to die. The Americas are also an ocean away from these reactionaries, plus all you guys were once owned by Spain, so you are all used to working together under someone powerful. Lastly, Shiner Bock is made here. Or will be.”

John Halo, Space Marine, let out a big yuuuup, opened a beer with his helmet visor, took off his helmet, and started taking a long sip.

Santa Anna was dumbfounded. ‘Dios Mios, if these retards are our future rulers, no wonder humanity went extinct! I gotta make sure they don’t kill themselves by accident, they are too useful for my plans!’

Somewhere, someplace, Monika AI is attempting to set up a library in Alexandria, Texas, former site of future Dallas, after she destroyed it with laser cannons out of spite. A poorly written account of events (This copy in fact) is among the works stored there as an eternal repository of the knowledge of mankind.
........................................................................................................................
Perhaps following the advice of an ancient, if holy, Afro-caribou cooking class and pitbull foundry based imageboard was the wrong idea, insofar as advocating for the eradication of black people, Jews, and Indians as a way to get a leg up on the aliens. Now everyone was mad, the US was united on the issue of saving the blacks and Jews, and your only friends in the world were France and Russia.

‘Well, Britain won a whole world war for the most part with just those two dweebs, I’m sure that we can do with even less.’ John Halo, Space Marine, thought mildly. Laser cannons meant that you didn’t have to care too much about strategy, but there were still things that the autists wanted done before we could go collect the rest of the US, and that was the pacification of Mexico, which was nearly done, but the Yucatan still had to be blown up. Guerilla war was endemic to the region, and besides, a country sized banana plantation where we could secretly genetically engineer Donkey Kong? Hell yeah, worth it. It was also time to stop the FRCA from breaking up, mostly because then there would be a bunch of cores for tiny places like El Salvador which could be avoided. Granted, the only experience with history even the AI like Monika had was old Victoria 2 savegames from 500 years prior, and the Victoria 3 copies John Titor, Interdimensional Marine, had picked up from Half Price Books in that one dimension.

Dark grays of a prefabricated military site, hard built by men who were constantly hard, hard wired to prevent any electronic attack by any sort of Victorian mad scientists, surrounded and enveloped him, like a corporate office did to the mass of humanity for so many years, at least before an open floor plan was adopted. In an act that mirrored thousands of years of hostages in the Roman Empire, an act designed to make sure good behavior was held by both sides of any deal, Santa Anna now worked in this, the Mega Center. He was especially impressed by how large it was and how imposing, wheels in his mind turning to see what ill gain could be grabbed from such a fortress. He also was drafted into organizing the catering, mostly because he was standing outside of The Commander’s office at the wrong time. Santa Anna had started taco sweatshops to meet the demand, but there was only so many hours in the day and in the electric hum of the lit night.

Good ol boys like Sam Houston, David Crockett, Colonel Travis, and Jim Bowie were floating around, some starting minor insurrections to save liberty or something, Jim bowie was somehow selected for the ODST training despite being too old and too drunk, probably because of his sick ass knife. And his poor impulse control.

“The flux is wrong, or some other technobabble. The defensive cannons do not work, and the Army of the South is advancing. It is still in central America, but we are defenseless here! All South America could pick us off. Master Chief, are you even listening?”

“huh”

“Just, you know how none of us escaped the ravages of time without some neurological damage, right? It gave us autism, half the scientists have been taking dropships to japan to pick up real live waifus, the other half started worshiping a cube made of guns that was found in an ancient shrine, and here you are, eating a 120 pack of Crayola crayons.”

“So?”

“Would you mind not being here? Maybe going down south to ensure that central America stops being retarded?”

“I don’t have any textbooks for them to read.” John Halo, Space Marine, scratched his head slowly. “Oh, you meant kill any who resist and recruit the rest with propaganda and veiled threats to ensure our dominion over all and to prepare for World War and any intelligent ones to be sent to the academy, right?”

Artois, head scientist of the UH, was a little taken aback. “I’m not dumb, Sir. I just now have an insatiable appetite for writing utensils, paste, and eromangas, but I don’t eat those.”

“Just get the Hell out of here and take that air force guy and Santa Anna with you, he kinda knows these guys.”

“Yes Sir!” and with that, Santa Anna’s life got exponentially worse.