[ WP ] All mankind lives on floating continents that slowly orbit the planet . Continents might come in contact with each other once in hundreds or thousands of years . Contact is about to be made between two very different continents with very different societies .

The warning signal blared over the canteen. `` Contact estimate 240 seconds. Collect your gear and get to the Contact Point. Command out.'' 
 
 `` Oh, Crap.'' Jace thought. It is a rare event for two island states to come together. The bureaucracy was tough, let alone if it was on a collision course. Sadly, this time, it was. 
 
 `` Remember to bolster floors 5 to 8! we ca n't have any more breaches in this part of the atmosphere! Get your sandbags from the Supply Office. You know the Drill.'' 
 
 The 1 minute warning blared. `` ALL TROOPS TO T DECK. CONTACT IN 30. OPERATION NEW HORIZON IS GO!'' 
 
 Jace shuffled up the stairs onto T deck, amidst the plasma casters and focused particle shunters, he could not see far amongst the so-called War Fog. 
 
 confused Um's? and Whaa's? arose from the massed crowd. `` This is it troops.'' blared Commander Harris through a loudspeaker. `` Bikini Code: Orange!'' 
 
 As his hand raced through submenus on the console for the Particle Shunter, attempting to activate it, he thought about whether this was a pointless exercise. Surely not, due to the dire fact that they were on a collision course. But what about the other Civilization? 
 
 He stopped and pondered for a moment. Just then, seeing slightly through the fog, he saw the violent colourless hue of a gas based explosive cannon erupting from the surface of this unencountered frontier. 
 
 `` Oh Shiii-'' 
 
 There was an almighty crash as his body was flung on to the hard, rocky floor. The ethereal echo of Harris's voice, this time on the radio, silently casting an SOS call through the ether of oxygen, was the only constant in this currently dazed and confused consciousness. 
 
 `` Bikini Code Black!'' `` BIKINI CODE BLACK!'' 
 
 Peace was no more.
