The Carbon Veil War

Soldiers still use guns and ammo, now they burn Carbon Nanotubes to power lasers

In the year 2028, the world teetered on the edge of chaos. Resource wars had fractured alliances, and the U.S. Army’s 7th Experimental Brigade was deployed to the arid wastes of the Nevada Proving Grounds, testing a new breed of weaponry and armor that could shift the tide of battle. At the heart of this conflict was Specialist Thad Grogan, a wiry, quick-witted soldier with a knack for improvisation and a reputation for surviving the unsurvivable.


The 7th Brigade was equipped with the latest in nanotechnology: weapons powered by cartridges packed with carbon nanotubes, each a microscopic marvel capable of releasing a burst of electrons when shattered. These "nano-carts" fueled compact laser rifles and man-portable railguns, turning soldiers into walking arsenals. The lasers seared through armor like a hot knife through butter, while the railguns launched projectiles at hypersonic speeds, all powered by the controlled destruction of these volatile cartridges. Each soldier carried a bandolier of nano-carts, their matte-black casings glinting faintly under the desert sun, ready to be slotted into weapons with a satisfying click.


Their uniforms were equally revolutionary. Woven with sub-surface retroreflectors—microscopic prisms embedded in the fabric—they could redirect a fraction of incoming energy-based attacks back toward their source. When hit by a laser, the uniform’s surface shimmered, fracturing the beam and sending a portion of its energy screaming back at the attacker. It wasn’t perfect; the system burned out under sustained fire, but it gave soldiers like Thad a fighting chance against the enemy’s own energy weapons.


The mission was simple: secure a fortified ridge held by a rogue militia armed with stolen tech. The militia had dug in, their own laser emplacements and drones turning the ridge into a death trap. Thad’s company, Delta Company, was tasked with leading the assault.


“Grogan, you ready to light ‘em up?” barked Sergeant Reyes, her voice crackling through the comms as they crouched behind a scorched boulder.


Thad grinned, patting the nano-cart magazine slung across his chest. “Born ready, Sarge. Let’s see if these fancy flashlights live up to the hype.”


The company advanced under a hail of enemy laser fire. Crimson beams sliced through the air, kicking up clouds of vaporized sand. Thad’s uniform sparked as a glancing shot hit his shoulder, the retroreflectors flaring briefly, sending a pulse of energy back toward the ridge. Somewhere up there, a militia gunner cursed as his own weapon overheated from the feedback.


“Keep moving!” Reyes shouted. Thad sprinted forward, sliding into a shallow ditch. He slammed a nano-cart into his laser rifle, the weapon humming as the cartridge’s nanotubes primed for release. Aiming at a militia drone buzzing overhead, he squeezed the trigger. A lance of white-hot light erupted, slicing the drone in half. The nano-cart disintegrated inside the rifle, its electrons consumed in the shot, and Thad ejected the spent casing, slotting in a fresh one.


“Railgunners, up!” Reyes ordered. Two soldiers lugged their bulky railguns into position, each weapon fed by oversized nano-carts. The guns roared, spitting tungsten slugs that punched through the militia’s barricades like they were paper. The air crackled with ozone as the nano-carts’ electrons powered the electromagnetic rails.


Thad’s squad pushed forward, but the militia wasn’t done. A heavy laser turret swiveled toward them, its beam raking across the line. Private Chen went down, his uniform’s retroreflectors glowing red-hot before failing, the fabric smoldering. Thad dove for cover, cursing. “We gotta take that turret out!”


He spotted a narrow gully leading up the ridge—a risky flank but their only shot. “Reyes, I’m going for it!” he yelled, not waiting for approval. He scrambled through the gully, nano-carts clinking against his chest. A militia sniper’s laser grazed his arm, and his uniform shimmered, reflecting just enough energy to fry the sniper’s scope. Thad didn’t hesitate. He popped up, fired a laser burst, and dropped the sniper before he could recalibrate.


At the ridge’s edge, Thad found the turret’s power cell—a hulking generator rigged with stolen nano-carts. He pulled a breaching charge from his pack, set it, and ran. The explosion sent a shockwave through the ridge, the generator erupting in a cascade of sparks as its nano-carts detonated prematurely.


With the turret down, Delta Company surged forward, their lasers and railguns tearing through the militia’s defenses. Thad’s uniform was scorched, its retroreflectors flickering, but he kept firing, each nano-cart spent leaving a faint trail of carbon dust in the air. By dusk, the ridge was theirs.


That night, Thad sat on a crate, cleaning his rifle under the stars. Reyes approached, tossing him a fresh nano-cart. “Not bad, Grogan. You didn’t get us all killed.”


He caught the cartridge, smirking. “Just doing my job, Sarge. These toys make it easy.”


She snorted. “Toys that’ll change the world—or end it. Get some rest. We’re moving out at dawn.”


As Thad slotted the nano-cart into his bandolier, he glanced at the ridge, now quiet. The future of warfare was in his hands, volatile and unpredictable as the desert wind. And for better or worse, he was ready for it.