"May wise heads prevail..."
October 28th 1962, USS Montana, Cuban Blockade.
The anxiety in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, the crew in the bridge was silent as distant shouts to load the guns were echoed along the metal halls of the Montana. The first Russian ship was spotted 20 miles away, sailing just within sight of the American blockade, their crew was likewise equally anxious; they were sent to scout out the American ships and didn't know whether they were going to be fired upon or not but it wasn't in America's interests to sink it, not now. The captain of the Montana grimaced as he handed the telescope back to a spotter, 'this could be it.' he thought to himself, as the Russian scoutship got closer and the fleet behind it became visible, steaming towards them at about 9 knots an hour.
"It looks like they're not going to stop." the spotter mumbled to the captain, looking on the verge of breaking down, his body drenched in sweat and his hands shaking violently.
"Private," said the captain, stopped to gulp as his throat was dry, "Where do you call home?"
"I'm not sure what you mean, Sir."
"A soldier's last thoughts should be of home." the spotter looked as if he were about to cry, he was only so young, a baby faced private that shouldn't have been mixed up in this.
"Maryland." he said thickly, before stalking off somewhere, presumably to cry or vomit, 'better do it in private' thought the captain to himself, not wanting the spotter to lose face in what might well be his last few hours. The radio to the left of the captain crackled to life, spitting out random garbbles of static and Russian before focusing on the captain of the missle ship.
"Make way for the fleet," he ordered in a thick Russian accent, though it wasn't thick enough to hide his nervousness, "we do not want to open fire."
"Nor do we Rusky, so save the world some trouble and turn your ships around." replayed the Montana's captain, in an attempt to appear more steadfast then he did.
"That is a negative Yank," replied the soviet firmly, now more angry with the American captain then scared, "If you do not make way, the fleet will directly bypass your ships."
'Directly Bypass?' thought the Montana captain.
"I think the Russian means ram, sir." a junior officer said by his side, looking up from a bible to say his piece.
Meanwhile on the Russian missle ship, the soviet captain was receiving an important radio message of his own, "Commissar, turn around, there is no need for this senselessness." ordered the supreme leader of the USSR, Chairman Khrushchev, meaning to disarm the crisis, understanding what it would mean total annihilation if the missiles were to get past. The Commissar nodded and ordered for the fleet to turn around and return home but fate had something else in charge, a shell narrowly missed the missle carrier and smashed into the flank of cruiser by it's side. One of the American fleet had fired without orders, the USS Texas, it soon began continuous fire.
"Texas, cease fire!" barked the Montana's Captain through the radio, alarmed and enraged at the extreme insubordination of the Texas' Captain.
"We have to end this now and if you're not going t-" the call was cut short as a Russian missle hit the Texas' bridge, ripping it apart.
"All ships, fire on the Russian fleet!" yelled the Captain through the radio, as one by one the Russian ships opened fire, tearing apart the blockade.
[i]"My fellow Americans, I must regretfully inform you that, as 1:32PM eastern standard time, we are at war with the Soviet Union. I hereby place the the United States of America in a state of emergency and authorizes the opening of public fallout shelters, as a precaution of possible nuclear retaliation by the Soviets. My dear Americans, forgive me, for wise heads have not prevailed."[i]
On that fateful day, the world would go to war for what seemed to be the last time, after fierce naval battling the Russian ships got through, with the help of tactical nuclear missiles on the Cuban coast line. The use of tactical missiles provoked the Americans to fire on the garrison in east Berlin, the Russians subsequently fired back, destroying their capitalist German neighbors. Soon all this escalated and within 3 hours of the nuclear weapons arriving in Cuba, they were launched at America and America launched at Russia, moments later everyone was firing at everyone else, until all the missiles and bombs were used up. Eventually, after 20 years, the fallout in the air cleared, coating the earth in a layer of radioactive ash; it seemed that life was finally extinguished. Except it wasn't, most of radioactive particles had decayed to safety by this point and the background radiation was low enough so that the earth was still habitable, barely. However humanity (and nature to a certain extent) survived in the dim light of the aftermath, struggling to make it through.
Ok, so this is a post-apocalyptic RP set in an alternate timeline 200 years or so past the Cuban Missile Crisis, the main 'quests' will take place episodically giving me time to plan out the next step. It won't involve you brushing up on Cold War history, I'll do that for you.
