SDNWorld Redux: Story Thread the First.

[Master_Baerne]

Baernish Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Emergency Orders
FROM: His Grace Duke James of Baerne
TO: All BDA, BDN, BDAF Cos

Sirs and Ma'mas,

Your previous Emeregency Orders are hereby recinded, by personal order from myself.

Baerne Invictus,
Duke James

--------------------

Baernish Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Private Communique
FROM: His Grace Duke James of Baerne, in consultation with Their Excellencies Countesses Domizia and Truman, Ministers for Foreign Affairs and War
TO: FTO sans Coilerburg

We strongly recommend that all efforts be made to reinstall President Jeffrey in his rightful place at the head of Coilerburg's government, the better to discourage similar coup attempts throughout the continent and, indeed, world. What kind of message would it send if the FTO mad?

James of Baerne

[Karmic Knight]

Baernish Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Private Communique
FROM: His Grace Duke James of Baerne, in consultation with Their Excellencies Countesses Domizia and Truman, Ministers for Foreign Affairs and War
TO: FTO sans Coilerburg

We strongly recommend that all efforts be made to reinstall President Jeffrey in his rightful place at the head of Coilerburg's government, the better to discourage similar coup attempts throughout the continent and, indeed, world. What kind of message would it send if the FTO mad?

James of Baerne

Vinish Diplomatic Quick ReplyTM:

The Kingdom of Vineyards would like to cease any rash actions, as we must answer two questions first:

1, Is the New Regime Hostile to the FTO's Goals?
2. Is President Jeffery Still Alive?

Before those are answered, any action is premature at best.

-Branon Michael, King of Vineyards.

[Coiler]

We'll have to respectfully disagree, but this ideological dispute is neither here nor there right now, seeing as that there are far more practical matters to attend to. Once more we would like to assure you that San Dorado is willing to work with your regime to identify the most positive outcome for this crisis. At this stage we are primarily interested in identifying the principal reasons behind your coup d'etat. You speak of "change and reform"; could you enlighten us as to the changes and reforms you wish to push through?

Certainly. Here it is, from the heads of all the armed services:

General Willi Helmut, head of the Army:

Increase the army's size by a modest amount, and give it more modern equipment to complement its excellent training. Add more rapid intervention capacity in the form of additional airmobile forces.

Admiral Gerald Teri, head of the Navy:

Give Coilerburg's navy the push it needs to become a truly seagoing force. Increase the number of destroyers and submarines in the fleet, create the logistical capacity for global deployment, and form at least one carrier battle group.

General Max Argent, head of the Air Force:

Restructure the Air Force so it can more adequately support the efforts of wars that Coilerburg is fighting at the moment. Less fighters suited to a conventional war, more transports and attack craft suited for the brushfires Coilerburg is currently fighting.

[Shinn Langley Soryu]

Royal Palace, Ashford City

"So there's been a coup in Coilerburg," Lelouch said. "Who initiated it, and what were their reasons for doing so?"

"The heads of the Coilerburg military initated the coup," Marchioness Cornelia, Lelouch's elder sister, replied. "They're generally frustrated over the fact that their equipment is either outdated, limited in number, or inappropriate for the types of wars they fight and that they don't receive enough funds to purchase the needed materiel."

"While the affairs of Frequesque in general normally do not concern us, I think I may have found a way for us to benefit from Coilerburg's current military situation," Lelouch said.

"What are you proposing?" Cornelia asked.

"What else? We're going to sell them some of the arms that they need," Lelouch replied.

[Karmic Knight]

Vinish Address to All Interested Nations

Brandon adjusted his tie, he was standing in front of a Vinish Flag, which bothered him because he wanted to convey internationality in this speech, and the flag may or may not hurt his message. He had little time to think about it, as the man near the camera shouted, “Live feed, go Sire.”

“People of Frequesue, and other interested parties; I speak to you on behalf of my people. We have a request for the current military junta of Coilerburg, please state your intentions to the world honestly and openly, but most of all, think of the citizens, the people who work, sweat and breathe to make Coilerburg great. We fear your actions, noble they may be, will cause the citizenry of Coilerburg suffering. We fear your decision to defend the actions of people abroad will cause suffering at home. So, we plea to you, think of your people, because you are all that is there to protect, and free your people from danger.

“The Kingdom of Vineyards would like to address the issues in the CFR, which may have been a cause for the rampant spending war that caused the triumvirate to take power. The ‘Civilized’ nations of the FTO cannot continue acting in the CFR without support, we must find the majority of the CFR, and work with them to stabilize their homes, or we cannot continue this disastrous endeavor of occupation. If we fail to find a workable majority, the country can be broken down by faction lines, we do not need the CFR to be congregated entirely. We must also request the aide of other, non-FTO nations, such as Minoy and the other two Coiler Peninsula states. We do not have the strength to go deny aide when it washes up on our shores, despite what motives they may have. We have not the material to be scrupulous.

“Along with requesting aide of these native nations, I believe we should offer nations such as the nations of the San Doradan Peninsula, the nations of the Coilerburg Peninsula and the sleeping giant next to me, membership in the FTO, if they chose to ignore it or deny it, we know their opinion, though there is a chance they may accept, helping our alliance out tremendously. The point of our alliance is to stabilize our continent, how can we do this if we don’t try and get the continent to actually agree with ourselves? I ask you, as a human being, as a Frequesuan, as a member of the FTO, what can we do to get these nations involved?”

[Master_Baerne]

OOC: Um, Minoy attacked the CFR in the first place, starting the whole mess. Do we really want them involved in the reconstruction? :OOC

Baernish Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Private Communique
FROM: Her Excellency Countess Domizia, Minister for Foreign Affairs
TO: FTO sans Coilerburg

We support the Vinish proposal to extend FTO membership to the other nations of Frequesque, the better to accomplish our stated mission of protecting our Frequesquean brothers and sisters from imperialist aggression, which would be difficult were they not part of the organization to do so. (See Tian Xia)

[Raj Ahten]

Vinish Address to All Interested Nations
“The Kingdom of Vineyards would like to address the issues in the CFR, which may have been a cause for the rampant spending war that caused the triumvirate to take power. The ‘Civilized’ nations of the FTO cannot continue acting in the CFR without support, we must find the majority of the CFR, and work with them to stabilize their homes, or we cannot continue this disastrous endeavor of occupation. If we fail to find a workable majority, the country can be broken down by faction lines, we do not need the CFR to be congregated entirely. We must also request the aide of other, non-FTO nations, such as Minoy and the other two Coiler Peninsula states. We do not have the strength to go deny aide when it washes up on our shores, despite what motives they may have. We have not the material to be scrupulous.

“Along with requesting aide of these native nations, I believe we should offer nations such as the nations of the San Doradan Peninsula, the nations of the Coilerburg Peninsula and the sleeping giant next to me, membership in the FTO, if they chose to ignore it or deny it, we know their opinion, though there is a chance they may accept, helping our alliance out tremendously. The point of our alliance is to stabilize our continent, how can we do this if we don’t try and get the continent to actually agree with ourselves? I ask you, as a human being, as a Frequesuan, as a member of the FTO, what can we do to get these nations involved?”

Official response from Indhopal:
Hopefully we can address some of the Vineyards concerns about the CFR. We know that an occupation of the CFR alone will not bring about a lasting peace. Our plan from the start has been to reach out to the militias and other groups and attempt to bring them into the political process. We have already had successes in convincing militias to disarm in exchange for a place in the interim government.

The current trouble has come from some Revolutionary Front associated groups, mainly the Iron Tigers. They have taken Indhopal's negotiators hostage rather than talk. It is our strategy to significantly weaken them by taking away their income source, which we have already accomplished, then force them to the negotiating table with military pressure.

Indhopal is open to any ideas regarding the future of the CFR. The violence there seems intractable, and we wish to hear any suggestions the Vineyards might have on the matter. The best solution in the end may be to break the CFR into a number of republics. It is a nation that was drawn up in the colonial era with no regard for preexisting boundaries and hasn't had a functional central government for decades.

As for Minoy, Their goals in the CFR seem to be purely to grab what they can while they can. Letting them get involved in the process would be giving them license to loot the nation. If they have any legitimate security concerns about the CFR situation however, Indhopal would like to hear them. We also welcome any other states that would wish to contribute with non combat forces to operation Stabilizer.

Finally, Indhopal would welcome letting other Frequesuean republics into the FTO. One of our goals has always been to increase membership in the organization.

[MKSheppard]

Somewhere over Japanistan

Once again, a rocket plane dropped from a Japanistani bomber; but instead of being bright silver like the last one; the JF-21ZhS-2 was a brilliant white from the abalative coating covering it.

With a roar, the rocket engine on the back lit off; and the JF-21ZhS-2 rocketed into the heavens. The difference between the ZhS-2 and the original ZhS were many. Skin at key leading edges had been thickened or replaced with stronger, sturdier materials; and the entire body of the plane had been covered with white abalative material, to help it withstand the temperatures of a suborbital re-entry.

To offset the increased weight of the ZhS-2 over the original ZhS, a larger, more powerful rocket engine had been fitted, along with slightly bigger conformal fuel tanks.

Five minutes later, it's abalative coating burnt off; and with the pilot looking through a a small porthole window, the ZhS-2 landed at Sakewa Imperial Airfield, having reached an altitude of 116 km during powered flight.

[PeZook]

Orena International Airport

"How many times have done that in the last month?", Queen Agatha asked her husband as they waited on the tarmac. The King smiled and waved at the waiting crowds.

"Three or four, plus the delegations. I suppose it's a good thing we genuinely like all those people, isn't it?"

The Queen smiled at the crowd and discreetly smoothed out her dress.

"Those shoes are killing me.", she complained

"Mine too, honey. My feet will hate me for a long time."

At least the day was nice: autumn was coming fast, and tree leaves were turning from green to different shades of orange and red. Saw from the air, the countryside looked simply gorgeous, with huge swathes of brilliantly coloured forests, and flocks of birds flying south, to Japanistan and the Impact Archipelago.

Almost like home...

Just then a presidential airliner painted in distinctive colors of the Shinra Republic taxied off the runway and approached the waiting delegation slowly. It bore a stylized name on both sides - the Highwind.

It's probably some FF7 in-joke, the King thought, somewhat amused.

As the airliner came to a stop and ground crews attached the steps, the representative band began playing the Shinra national anthem. Harsh, sharp tones filled the air, and King Paul had a hard time keeping himself from smiling.

They might've just as well started playing the Imperial March - Paul looked around, and it turned out he was the only one who thought this thing was funny.

"Present arms!", shouted the Cavalry sergeant, and soldiers forming a double row on both sides of the red carpet presented their ceremonial Shroomseur bolt-action rifles, bayonetts fixed. Both leaders met where the red carpet ended.

"President Shinra, in the name of the people of PeZookia, I welcome you to our soil with bread and salt, as is our tradition", Paul said loudly while shaking Rufus' hand, and added quietly, "It's good to see you again."

On the President's behalf, his aides accepted the huge, round loaf of bread and a pinch of salt from the welcoming comittee.


"And I accept this gift with gratitude", Rufus also replied loudly, and acknowledged the second, informal greeting with a warm smile.

Both leaders walked towards the waiting motorcade, waving at the gathered crowds. Paul was leading his wife, while a host of aides followed the President. They paused briefly for a photo-op and then finally boarded the limousine.

"I hope the ceremony wasn't too annoying. It sure as hell gets boring after you do it for a while.", Paul commented wryly after the limos started moving.

"Ah, not at all. Last time we used to just shake hands on the airfield and scram."

Paul smiled. Yeah, those were simpler times.

"So...according to your secretary, this visit is supposed to be brief, and then you're heading to the SNC conference. We both are, actually...I figure we can do a press conference, then discuss some matters briefly, and conduct the real business in Stasograd and during the flight."

[Siege]

Dispatch from the Peacock Throne

From: The High Office of State, Tanstaafl Raj
To: FTO Central Committee

It has pleased His Grace the Mahārāja Karthika Thirunal Rama Varma, Great King of the Tanstaafl Raj, master of the Peacock Throne, etc. to order me to inform you that His Grace has expressed a desire for His most prosperous nation to enter the Frequesuan Treaty Organization.

If you would be so kind as to provide us with the specifics, I can visit you at the earliest convenience to complete the signing ceremony.

Cordially yours,

Yuan Chawang, Secretary of State, Tanstaafl Raj


---


Diplomatic Communique, Priority One

FROM: San Dorado Board of Directors
TO: Coilerburg Armed Forces
CC: FTO Central Comittee

[OOC: Note that all the following is encrypted, highly confidential, FTO-only traffic.]

General Willi Helmut, head of the Army:

Increase the army's size by a modest amount, and give it more modern equipment to complement its excellent training. Add more rapid intervention capacity in the form of additional airmobile forces.

It is the opinion of the Board of Directors that the FTO may be able to assist Coilerburg achieve this goal. The nations of the FTO have ample experience organizing and deploying airmobile forces; certainly, San Dorado is currently in the process of forming its own second airdeployable brigade. We would be more than happy to assist you.

Admiral Gerald Teri, head of the Navy:

Give Coilerburg's navy the push it needs to become a truly seagoing force. Increase the number of destroyers and submarines in the fleet, create the logistical capacity for global deployment, and form at least one carrier battle group.

The Sovereign Duchy of Baerne and the Corporate Republic of San Dorado are currently jointly developing a next-generation destroyer as well as a series of submarines, tailored to the needs of the FTO. Coilerburg would be more than welcome to join this program.

General Max Argent, head of the Air Force:

Restructure the Air Force so it can more adequately support the efforts of wars that Coilerburg is fighting at the moment. Less fighters suited to a conventional war, more transports and attack craft suited for the brushfires Coilerburg is currently fighting.

Specifically what transports and attack craft were you thinking of?

[MKSheppard]

Army House, SHepistan

"What? What the fuck?" muttered Sheppard as he was woken in the middle of the night by his military aide.

"Sir, the Old Dominion has invaded San Fuego and the Fucklands."

"...fuck."

As he began to dress, Sheppard began to fire off rapid fire questions.

"How bad?"

"They've committed a carrier battle group to each operation, our forces on the Fucklands are under heavy air bombardment, while our San Fuegian allies are in no position to resist. I think OD Marines seized the San Fuegian Capitol a few minutes ago."

"Shit. Get me the heads of the Services in thirty for a meeting."

"Yessir".

(OOC: Sorry for taking so long to pick up the bait, lonestar)

[PeZook]

Canissian HUMPP site taken over!

Earlier this afternoon, hundreds of FASTA technicians and engineers swarmed into the High Universal MultiParallel Processor control rooms, equipped with huge amounts of data disks and computer models.

The FASTA has reserved nearly three weeks of time on the huge machine, one of the biggest supercomputers in the world. The HUMPP will process sophisticated computer models of the Atlas-Sputnik rocket, identifying faults and problems, simulating all possible launch conditions and putting it through tests which would normally require blowing up real rockets.

Renting of the supercomputer for such a long time of exclusive use will cost the FASTA an "Unspecified but very, very large" amount of money, according to one of our experts.

[PeZook]

Co-written with Norseman

Orena, Royal Palace

The Fireplace Room was practically identical to last time - a testament to Paul's mindset and tastes, though he noticed that several elements of decor suited his wife as well.

Both President Shinra and King Paul were seated at the little coffee table, with a platter of tea and cookies neatly placed there. They were engaged in light conversation about a series of topics.

"To be honest, the whole Valarian situation seems like a great way for Japanistan to get tied up for a decade or two. Of course, after they're done there, they will receive a huge influx of raw resources, so I am not sure..."

Before the King could finish his thought, an aide entered the room.

"Your majesty, please forgive the intrustion. It's General Kulinsky, he says he has a very important document for you."

The King put down his teacup.

"Send him in then. Please, excuse me.", he said to President Shinra and stood up. General Kulinsky walked in soon thereafter, greeting the president offically. He stood there briefly, having a deja vu moment upon seeing Rufus Shinra's face.

"General?", Paul recalled him back to the real world

"Ah, yes. This is a matter of utmost importance, your highness, hence why I intruded upon your conversation. Please forgive me, but time is of the essence here."

Kulinsky handed a black envelope to the King. Paul opened it carefully, extracted several sheets of printed paper out of it and began reading.

Silence fell in the room, broken only by crackling of the fireplace. Eventually, the King sat down, and without saying a word, signed an official document and handed the envelope back to the General.

When the RIS officer left, Paul sighed, picked up his teacup and spoke, looking at a random spot on the wall.

"I just signed an official order to violate Sjenska borders. My cabinet won't like this at all..."

------------------------------------------------------------

Orena, General Hening Airbase, half an hour later

Almost everything was prepared by the time the order came: two An-22 transports of the 2nd Strategic Air Transport wing were completely repainted in gray, with marks of the PeZookian Air Force carefully scratched out. All classified equipment was completely removed, and after the ground crews were done with them, nothing could identify the planes as belonging to a foreign government.

Upon receiving the order, two flight crews kept on constant alert for two days straight were woken up and told to get ready. Two hours later, broadcasting no military callsigns, both transports took off into the night.

Karic's Pride, locked warehouse

Nightfall had made the warehouse cool, but not chilly. A handful of lightbulbs made enough light to see by, and to be seen by. That last bit was important for the prisoners here, several groups crammed into cells made from chainmesh fences which stretched all the way to the roof. In one of the cells some of the young Pezookian students paced the perimetre looking for a way out, but it was no good; both the fence and the warehouse's own walls were too sturdy to break through. There was no convenient crack you could slip through either. Even if there had been, they couldn't get around the armed guards.

Kasia wrapped her clothes tightly around herself, and tried not to touch her bruises. Tried not to think of what had happened. Tried not to weep openly. The tears came unbidden while she rocked back and forth, looking across the room at the other students. Part of her wished that they had taken everyone except her, then she felt guilty and wished they'd taken only her. In truth she wished none of them were here. It was all too much. Her naked feed felt cold against the concrete floor.

After a while Krystyna sat down next to Kasia, "I'm sorry, I couldn't find any shoes."

"It's alright, I... I can do without," Kasia said.

"I couldn't get any clothes either."

"It's alright, look," Kasia moved her hand between one of the tears in her clothes, "See? Still enough to cover me!" She tried to smile, but it felt and looked false.

"Me too, but I only have a little tear."

They stayed close for a few moments, talking about this or that, before Kasia whispered, "They made me take of my clothes..."

"Did they?" Krystyna looked a bit worried, either worried that she was prying, or from what might have happened to Kasia.

Kasia shook her head, "No, they beat me though, they made me do things, but they didn't..."

"I know, it's not the same, but they groped me and slapped me around."

"Did they, I mean, with anyone? Anyone we know?"

"Angelika and Sylwia Kosciel," Krystyna said, looking discreetly at either woman as she named them.

Sylwia sat along another wall, looking very out of it, not talking to anyone. Angelika on the other hand was smiling, and even making jokes it seemed, though Krystyna couldn't really tell. It seemed like very strange behaviour, or so Krystyna thought.

"Apparently the ones that..." Krystyna moved her head a bit, "Well, they were yelled at, supposedly we're ... valuable, so we're getting extra good treatment."

"Extra good treatment?" Kasia asked, she began to chuckle, even laugh a bit, as new tears came out, "Oh that's rich! If this is extra good treatment I'd hate to see what..." Right then her eyes drifted over the local prisoners, where everyone, but the women in particular, seemed far more subdued. She fell quiet, and slumped further down, "Oh."

"I don't think we'll be treated like that," Krystyna said, while squeezing Kasia a bit, "We're valuable after all."

"I don't know, I..." Kasia shivered, and her voice lowered a bit, "They told me that, if I made any trouble, if I didn't..." There was a long pause, "If I didn't kiss my new master's."

Krystyna frowned a little, "Kiss his what?"

"His shoes, when they take me to him, did they ask you to?"

"No," Krystyna shook her head, "Just that we should behave."

"So I'm the only one that?" Kasia bowed her head, "Everyone will think I'm a, a..."

"No one will think anything, everyone will know you're being forced!" Krystyna said, a little louder than she intended. Then she added, "And if they don't, then damn them."

"We've got to get out of here, this is awful it's," Kasia looked at the ceiling, "It's not like the movies."

"I know, in the movies the slavers are always captured by the good guys, or," Krystyna looked at the rather bedraggled guards, "Or the girl falls in love with their dashing and handsome leader."

"I know, lord I know," Krystyna leaned her back against the wall, "Maybe they will find us?"

Once more they spoke about this and that. For a while they even discussed their next midterm, and the assignment they had in literature class. Especially the idiots they had to work with. It helped distract them from their surroundings.

After a while, Kasia whispered, "I'll do it, I'll do whatever I'm told, and then when I get a chance... I am not staying a slave." It took a lot to have the courage to think it, or say it. Deep down she wasn't sure if she could do it though.

Krystyna just nodded, "I just want to stay alive, untill, I don't know untill what."

Hours went by, Kasia eventually felt good enough to go talk to the others. All of them had their own ideas of what would happen to them, and why, and how. None of it was terribly encouraging though.

Secret Military Area 8, 50 kilometers from the border

They were selected carefully out of about two hundred volunteers. They had to be of about average build and looks, and at least six of them were required to know one or more Shadow languages. All were parachute qualified, and they came from at least three different branches of the military: the Army Paratroopers, GROM special forces commandoes and the RIS. None of them wore any patches now, though - just BDUs of unknown manufacture. They've been training hard together for the last week, but it was just now that they received any concrete orders.

Right now, fifty-two men, an entire platoon, were reviewing aerial and ground-level photographs of their objective.

"You can see the central guard tower here...it's the only one with a heavy machine gun.", the Air Force captain pointed to two side-by-side pictures of the compound from two different perspectives.

"Six more ring the wall at these points, they're usually manned by one or two lightly armed guards."

All the men nodded and made notes. They exchanged hushed remarks about necessary weapons, and which ones to use where during the assault.

"Entry points: main gate, here. Main doors, back gate, two sets of rear doors."

The ground-level pictures were of excellent quality, and corresponded perfectly with the rough building plan, composed with data acquired from low-level UAV overflights. All the men noticed that. It would make their job a lot easier.

"How many hostages are we looking at here?"

"We have reasons to suspect all kidnapped students will be there, plus an undetermined amount of local slaves.", the captain answered

"Judging from the size of the place, there can be as many as two or three hundred people there. Are we supposed to get them all out?"

"No. Our objectives are stricly PeZookian citizens, and any leadership you can find. The mission does not involve extraction of local slaves for logistic reasons."

This caused everyone to murmur between themselves.

"We are, however, authorized to release as many of them as possible, but only after accomplishing the primary objective."

The men quieted down. It was, after all, understandable that they couldn't be expected to withdraw with a hundred pepole from the middle of enemy territorry. It didn't make them happy, but at least now the slaves would have a chance.

"Assets already on the ground will give the assault signal. It is imperative you do not execute sooner than that - there is one hostage we are buying from the slavers. When she is safe, you will receive the signal."

"Nice", commented one NCO, "We are supporting the world slave market"

"It doesn't really count if we take it back right afterwards, does it?", replied his colleague, a RIS officer.

"Extraction!", the captain raised his voice slightly in order to silence the comments, and proceeded to discuss the next part of the mission. Outside, two gray An-22s rumbled near the windows, taxiing to their rest spot.

Karic's Pride, two days later

Over the next two days there were meals twice a day, usually lukewarm stew or soup or some such, it was surprisingly good though. Apparently it was the leftover from the guards, which made Kasia wonder what the other prisoners ate. Whatever it was there never seemed to be enough of it. It was hard to get too involved with the other prisoners; they came and went, and even returned, in large groups with no seeming rhyme or rhythm. Eventually though there seemed to be a fairly solid mixture, and by listening in on the guards the students learned that everyone in the warehouse would be shipped to the same place.

None of them knew if that was good or bad.

Then one evening something new happened; a group of guards came inside lead by the man who they both saw occasionally, giving out orders to the guards. Another fellow came closely behind, and Krystyna whispered, "That's one of the men who were watching us earlier."

The leader called out, "Attention slaves! Your new master is here, and you won't give him any trouble when we move you onto his ship!" He grinned and looked at the guards, who slapped long cattleprods against their palms, or looked quite eager to hit someone with their rifles.

"Let me have her now," the buyer said.

"Kasia! Come here now, open that door you!"

Two of the guards opened the door just long enough for Kasia to slip through. She was horrified; she had hoped they would remove her from the others before this moment came. Yet here it was. The floor was cold and dirty, reminding her that this was real, and not just a nightmare. Half way across the floor her buyer called, "Stop, are those the clothes you were captured with?"

"Yes," Kasia said.

"They're rags, take them off."

Kasia's eyes narrowed slightly, despite her fear she felt angry. Then she remembered her own advice, and she also realised that refusing would do no good. The humiliation and anger made it hard to obey. She bit back both, and almost contemptuously threw her clothes onto the floor. It was so horrid that she actually turned numb for a while.

"Turn around."

That was easier at first, as she got to turn around she didn't have to watch the slavers. Then half way around she noticed that her friends were looking at her, the boys too. The blush got worse, and she closed her eyes, keeping them closed until she'd made a full turn.

"Good."

After that they beckoned her closer, a few feet away from her buyer she knelt down. The next part was as hard as stripping. The sheer anxiety made her breathing speed up. She bent down and kissed his shoes, for some reason her eyes moistened. It actually felt worse than stripping, that was in some way something that she could relate to. This was different.

"You've done a great job breaking her in!"

"Of course," the chief slaver said, "And she is of course still untouched."

When she looked up her buyer smiled at her, "I'm your new master, and you're a lucky girl, I'll be keeping you in my cabin."

Karic's Pride, two blocks away, at the same time

The courier went up the flight of rickety stairs and rang the bell of door marked 12. After a brief while, the door opened slightly. The courier handed off a small backpack, and was slipped a roll of dollar bills in return. Without saying a word, he turned around and walked down the stairs.

Inside the apartment, two of Kamil's men carefully removed a paint grenade, and then started pulling out packs of bills,counting and then repackaging them. A third man was replacing the floorboards which concealed an impressive stash of heavy weapons: four RPG-7s with three grenades each, three RPO-A thermobaric rocket launchers, a PK machine gun and a lot of various explosives. All of them had their serial numbers and other identification removed.

"Christ, that's a lot of money", commented one of the men as he went through another thousand, "And we're just handing it over to the scum?"

His colleague just looked at him and pointed to the weapons stash.

"You think we hauled those things here for fun? Don't worry. Miksevich is about to get his just desserts."

Somebody knocked on the door three times. It was Kamil himself."

"Everything ready?", he asked, checking their handiwork. The floorboards were replaced almost perfectly, and the apartment looked completely normal. Excellent.

"Almost. Give us five more minutes and we can get out of here."

The next day, Secret Military Area 8, 50 kilometers from the border, four hours before twilight

The mighty An-22s were on the tarmac, their propellers droning loudly, ready to take off at a moment's notice. The assault platoon was split between the planes, two squads in each, to avoid a catastrophe should one transport be shot down thanks to a lucky fluke. They wore nondescript jumpsuits, with civilian clothes under them. Short-barelled AKS-47s,pistols and UZI submachine guns were their only armament, all easily concealable with a bit of effort. They had no papers, no dogtags or unit patches of any kind.

Above them, A-10 gunships screamed east, to circle above Sjenska in case the mission went tits-up. An entire air assault company was prepared for a rescue mission just in case, though its soldiers did not know to where. Heavy-lift Mi-8 helicopters were ready to extract the prisoners, and UAVs have located a reserve abandoned dirt airstrip An-22s could land on. Everything was prepared.

As everyone strapped in, and sergeants ran last checks with loadmasters, general Kulinsky lowered his binoculars and turned to the mission commander, Lt. Col. Straszynski.

"Signal all assets to execute the operation."

It wasn't even given a name. Should it fail, every single one of these men would be forgotten.

Karic's Pride, T+3 hours

Kamil received word from one of his men about an hour before sundown. He sent two people to the outskirts of the city to aid the infiltrating commandos in locating their safehouse, and to help bribe any policemen who got too curious. They landed pretty far outside of town, but should be in place two hours after sundown, making their way to the safehouse in small groups, so as to not attract suspicion.

Even though everything seemed to be going well, Kamil was worried. After he left the safehouse with ransom money, he found out that Miksevich was moving some of his...cargo...to the dockside. However, none of the people watching the compound could tell if they were PeZookians or not: the trucks loaded inside the compound and left for the port, their cargo well out of sight.

He did make sure to get a list of all the ships which would leave port tonight, though. And, of course, if luck was with them, by dawn the RIS would have a lot of juicy information sources.

He picked up his phone and dialed the proper number.

"Boguslav! This is Adam - I have your money, everything is in order. Should I come pick her up tonight?"

[Siege]

Coup d’Etat

Tower of Commerce, downtown San Dorado



“A coup?!” the president had to strain his voice in order to be heard over the sound of the rotors surging overhead. He and Daphne Sinclair hurried from the presidential helicopter into the shelter of the soaring skyscraper. “A coup in Coilerburg? Is it that time of the week again?”

“Seems that way”, Daphne skimmed the emergency briefing papers as the two of them entered the elevator. “Apparently the military’s in control now, although they haven’t managed to arrest the president yet.”

“Damn”, president Hank scowled. “I rather liked Jeffrey. Here’s to hoping he’s alright. Why didn’t the Company know about this in advance?”

“EIA has a very minor presence in Coilerburg, a single field office I believe, and this was planned in the very highest of echelons of their military. Not exactly something we’ve got easy access to.”

“Great. I take it Helena’s people are on it?”

“They are, we’ve opened up preliminary talks with the new junta, but right now they seem pretty insistent on keeping their general’s regime in charge of the nation.”

“Dammit!” The president tapped his feet impatiently as the elevator began its descent. “And here I was hoping for just one quiet day. What is wrong with this continent?”

“Speaking of wrong...” Daphne seemed to have her mind on other matters. “Sidney, are you sure it was particularly wise to arrive in the same helicopter, straight from the Palace?”

“Yes”, replied the president absent minded. Then he turned to look at her. “Wait, why do you ask?”

She scowled at him. “Not everyone has to know we’re having an affair, you know. Ralson in particular will have a field day once he figures it out, that conniving bastard.”

“When did you start caring what Sam thinks?” the president shrugged. “Besides, he already knows.”

Daphne looked furious. “What?! You told him?”

“Of course I didn’t tell him. What would I do that for?” the president looked at her cross-wise. “Sam Ralson tried to bribe his way into the Presidential Security Service, no doubt intent on digging up some dirt. Didn't work of course, if there's a single 100% loyal institution in this entire country it's the PSS. The officers he approached came running straight for me. I’ve been feeding Sam misinformation and trivialities ever since.”

“Our affair is a triviality now?” Daphne pouted.

“Don’t be like that. Compared to secrets of state it sure as hell is. Besides, I know you. Admit it: you think it’s exciting old man Sam Ralson knows we’re getting it on.”

As the elevator came to a halt on the floor containing the DEPICOR main offices a mischievous grin flickered across Daphne’s face. “There is that”, she smiled as the doors slid open with a merry ‘ping!’. “So, men’s room or ladies’ room?”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

[DarthShady]

Shady News

Referendum to be held in the former Zagor Empire

After the fall of Marek the Cruel and his corrupt government the Zagor People have been left leaderless, but that is about to change. With help from the USSR and PeZookia the country will hold a referendum to decide what type of government the people want. The USSR was planing to institute Socialism as the new form of government but has decided that it would be in the best interest of the people, to choose themselves.

Zagor War Criminals are moved to Canissia

The International Tribunal which was supposed to be held in PeZookia has been moved to Canissia, for security reasons. The prisoners should be arriving there within the hour. The decision was made to hold the tribunal there because Canissia is a neutral party in the recent conflict and a friendly nation.

[PeZook]

Karic's Pride, T +5 hours, safehouse

Few people stayed outside in Karic's Pride after sundown: it seemed as if the coming of night made various unpleasant people all the more brazen. Walking down the dark, barely-lit streets invited a mugging...or worse. And most policemen would either avoid trouble, or shake you down themselves. And thus, Karic's Pride at night was quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional barking dog or barely recognizeable human shouts.

Of course, some people had no other choice, and when they did leave their homes, they usually did so in groups. Just like the young men who appeared occasionally next to the dilapidated apartment block in the Orel district, casually crossing the street and disappearing in the front door.

Had someone been watching, and if there was an actual, effective police force in the city, such activity would no doubt attract attention. However, even those people who stumbled upon one of these groups, walking briskly throughout the city, chose to avoid confrontation and quickly got out of their way. They were unnerving, somehow: confident, strong and constantly aware, wearing long jackets or coats which vaguely suggested the presence of concealed weapons. Most people in Karic's pride could smell trouble when it came.

Most PeZookian paratroopers have managed to reach the safehouse without incident. One group of four engaged in a tense stand-off with a band of muggers too stupid to know better, however no shots were fired: the muggers took off when they saw the group's leader pull out his pistol.

Captain Grzegorz Nalecki was the first to go into the safehouse and disarm its crude, but effective security system. He checked the apartment, and had the men who came with him uncover the weapon stash.

The rest of his platoon was trickling in now, and the small apartment was soon full of people: busy removing their coats, checking their weapons and readying the equipment left for them inside, which included night-vision goggles, body armor and digital radios.

"I want everyone well hydrated and aware", the captain started giving orders, keeping in mind the long run they did from the LZ, "We still have an hour until the exchange. Drink your fluids and check all your gear. Sergeant - the map, please."

Patryk Nec, normally a GROM operative, now the platoon sergeant, unfolded a detailed map of the area on the only table in the apartment.

"You all know the plan,but let's go over it one more time...", the captain started going through the fifty-point checklist, one by one.

Miksevic's compound, T +6 hours

Kamil walked up to the "office" door carrying a small, elegant briefcase full of dollar bills. He had three of his people with him, all armed and prepared for the possibility of a massive fuck-up. The paratroopers would be moving into position just about now, taking their spots on street corners nearby, but if something happened inside, they wouldn't be of any help.

The guard standing outside was cold and infinitely bored. He only gave Kamil and his entourage a cursory glance before letting them in.

Miksevich was there, along with Amanda - shackled, but dressed, thank God. Armed guards were milling about.

"Adam! Dearest of all my friends!", Miksevich extended his arms and gave Kamil a bear hug that he's grown to dislike more and more every time. Still, he smiled and hugged him back.

"I have your money", he raised and patted the briefcase, "And I see the merchandise is in excellent condition."

"Oh yes, I made doubly sure of that. But - gentlemen should not conduct business in the hallway. Please, come into my office."

"Naturally. I hope you didn't drink all of that Stolicznaya by yourself yet."

Boguslav Miksevich, dead man walking, laughed heartily at the joke and led his guest inside.

Outside, T +7 hours

"Still no signal"

"Understood", Captain Nalecki said into his headset and released the transmit button. He was standing in an archway passage across the street from the compound, observing the front gate and entrance. His platoon sergeant was there, along with the machinegunner - corporal Kralewski, he remembered, a paratrooper.

"What the hell is taking them so long?", muttered sergeant Nec, casually leaning against the wall, his AKS in hand, but carefully concealed from the eyes of any random passersby.

"I have no idea, sergeant, but we stay here until we hear the signal or shooting."

Nec shifted from one leg to another. All paratroopers wore civilian clothes, but most also had webbing belts, carrying spare magazines and grenades. Every one of them also put on light body armor in the safehouse, and carried night vision goggles, ready to put them on at a moment's notice.

The compound was quiet, save for dogs barking randomly, and guards occasionally calling each other, making stupid jokes or checking if everything was okay. They were obviously bored, and the night was becoming colder and colder with each passing minute.

A generator shed also made plenty of noise, and it was also the primary target of the two RPG teams on the roof of the very same building under which the captain now stood. The plan was simple: approach the doors stealthily, taking out the guard. Wait for RPGs to destroy the shed and kill the lights, then storm through all entrances and clear the building. Machine guns, RPGs and two sharpshooters would take out the guard towers - they were very exposed and not hardened at all. While they didn't know the layout of the main building, this wasn't an insurmountable problem.

For now, though, they would wait. A soldier's life was mostly about waiting, even behind enemy lines.

Miksevic's office, T +7 hours 15 minutes

"Good one, my friend! Very good!", Miksevich shouted, a little bit drunk by now. They were talking and joking, drinking and commenting on the city and its inhabitants. Apparently, it was a slow night at the compound.

Fortunately for Kamil, the RIS taught their men how to drink. It was a necessity, really, when working in this part of the world.

"Well, Boguslav...it was good staying here and enjoying your hospitality, but I have some unfinished business I must close this night."

"Ah, a shame, really.", Miksevich seemed genuinely disappointed. Kamil always kept reminding himself just how evil this man was, but he found that he almost...enjoyed his company, despite training himself to think otherwise, "But I suppose business cannot wait. Let me pour you just one more."

Thus he did, and both men shared a last glass of excellent CSR vodka together. One of them didn't know yet that it would be his last glass, period. Then they left the office, Miksevich in a really good mood.

"So...here it is. Keys to her shackles. She's all yours, though I must say that giving her to that pig Brakic is a terrible, terrible waste. You should get some use of her yourself!"

Kamil almost cringed at that comment Christ, her father shook my hand when I got my comission...

He shook his head to clear it and forced a smile.

"Perhaps I will...after all, Brakic doesn't have to know, eh?"

Wearing his creepiest smile, he unshackled Amanda, who almost immediately tried to knee him in the groin. Expecting that, he dodged and expertly threw her to the ground. Miksevich and his guards laughed watching that.

"Well, look at that! She is going to give you trouble, my friend!", Miksevich was laughing heartily, while Kamil yanked Amanda up from the ground, painfully twisting her right arm behind her back.

"I can hurt you real bad, bitch. You better behave.", he shouted at her for the benefit of all involved, "Are you going to behave from now on?"

She nodded, feeling the throbbing pain in her arm.

"Good girl. If you try to run, my men will shoot and kill you. If you try something like this again, I will break something important. You are mine now, and you better remember that."

He let Amanda go and knew he was going to hate himself for that little speech.

"Friend, maybe it's a better idea to shackle her?", Miksevich asked, genuinely concerned

"No, I will manage. Come on.", Kamil said and led her to the exit. As they turned around, he managed to quickly hiss into her ear.

"I am an intelligence officer. We are getting you out of here."

She didn't nod, so Kamil couldn't know if she heard that. Either way, he said goodbye to Miksevich and led her outside.

Outside, T +7 hours 20 minutes

"They're coming out!", the radio squawked. The captain recognized the voice, but that wouldn't do. He clicked his radio.

"SROKA-12, use proper radio discipline!", he chastised the trooper, "All teams, goggles on. Wait for the signal."

They watched as the unknown RIS man led the hostage outside, surrounded by his bodyguards. The slaver guard at the door watched them in a disinterested way and then lit up a cigarette.

Excellent. They suspect nothing., thought the captain. And the fool ruined his night vision to boot - not that it would matter much.

At the exact same moment, the radio came alive.

"SNOWSTORM", came a single word, heard by all the paratroopers.

Captain Nalecki felt the adrenaline rush through his body as he clicked the transmit button.

"All teams, this is SROKA-1. Execute. Execute. Execute."

[Coyote]

POPULAR ROBOTIX:
THE Canissian Magazine for Robot Technology

COMBAT 'BOTS: WAVE OF THE FUTURE?

Fort Garou Advanced Research Testing Range, Canissia
EYES and EARS-- The robot above is unarmed, but like a military radio, it is not supposed to be deadly in and of itself-- it is who and what it links to that makes it far more dangerous than it appears.

The robot, part of an advanced, self-deploying air-defense network of interconnected robot platforms, can track incoming enemy aircraft and automatically issue re-deployment orders to the other AAA-defense robots linked to it, allowing the 'bots to coordinate the ideal air-defense strategy customized to the incoming threat.



"This kind of integrated, self-customizing air defense network will allow the air-defense artillery of the future to position itself ideally to meet a wide variety of threats," says General William Axman, of the Ft. Garou robotic warrior testing program.

"We have not just ground-based gun platforms, but missiles for high and low altitude, and we're working on blinding lasers for neutralizing enemy electronics and sensors, and we're also coordinating the system with airborne drones to serve as interceptors," Axman says.

Developments at the Ft. Garou range go beyond just experimental air-defense. Remote-operated Combat Engineer vehicles are also being tested to great success, with more and more autonomy being programmed into the vehicles at each phase of testing.



"We're a long way off from a fully-autonomous vehicle," Axman says, "But we're getting there. Right now, we have one Engineer soldier working th evehicle, with at least 50% of the vehicle's functions controlled by on-board, autonomous computers processing instructions automatically-- it's learning," Axman said. "When we started with the Engineer vehicle, it was run by three specialist-trained technicians."

But the real question on readers' minds is probably "Where are the Robot Tanks!?"

"We're still light-years away from fully-autonomous ground vehicles," Axman said, "But we do have a number of remote-operated combat vehicles undergoing prototype and proof-of-concept testing."



The closest thing to a "Robot Tank" currently in testing is the "Timberwolf", pictured above. The Timberwolf is able to patrol set routes, but most of its functions are still performed by human operators, by distant teleo-operation.

"We hope that with research into a Global Positioning System, a constellation of satellites devoted to navigation can provide a way for the Timberwolf to eventually navigate its own way, tactically, to a target," General Axman theorized, "But the shoot/no-shoot commands will still be limited to human decision makers."

Robotics in Canissia have always been important science, and King Arik Coyotus-I is well known to have petitioned his father, the previous King Aron Wolfius, to forgo spending on expensive nuclear weapons programs and space programs in favor of being the world leader in robotics technology. Each year, thousands of promising students enter robotics contests to show of their knowledge and skills, and of those thousands at least 200 are guaranteed full-ride scholarships into Canissia's most prestigious science academy, the Technion, to further Canissian robotics technology and research.

Canissia has already signed important (and exclusive) contracts with the FASTA space program for space-exploration robots.

The future of robotics in Canissia will only grow as this exciting field of research receives more attention and more funding.

[Norseman]

Cabinet Meeting, Regent's Palace

"So we were turned down," the Regent said.

"Yes Excellency, they remain intransigent," Joseph Akhtar said.

"Now what?"

"There remains the other matter..."

"I know, the other matter," the Regent looked around the table, "Anyone?"

"For the other matter we need to be flexible, as it is we are tied up to the north," General Jason Thornwall said.

"Very well, pull the troops out, as per the contingency plan," the Regent said, "I've granted buffer zone, I mean peacekeeping mandate, residency permits to anyone who will follow our forces back south. I imagine there will be a few."

"I imagine so, but it will be difficult to build settlements and resources for all of them!" Sir Albert said, and then he leaned forward and added, "Especially since many of them will foul it all up within a couple of weeks."

"We have experience integrating such people, do we not?" Asked the Regent.

"Experience yes, but, it's very hard to integrate free barbarians, much easier if they spend some time as slaves!"

"Unfortunately that's not an option, and I'm sure you'll find a way to do this."

El-Kalim

Colonel Al-Icanti looked at the note with disbelief and disgust, "Pull out?"

"Yes Sir," said his Aide-de-Camp.

"I've always known the politico's were spineless wimps, but this..."

"No Sir."

"It won't look good, especially if we're dealing with anyone who understands the issues."

"No Sir."

"You have nothing to say do you?"

"No Sir."

"Issue the withdrawal order, by hand mind you, and I'm declaring radio silence until further notice."

"Yes Sir!"

Once his Aide-de-Camp had left Al-Icanti read the note again, sighing as he did, "Beelshamal knock some sense into their heads!"

*** *** *** ***

At night El-Kalim looked peculiar, from the distance the cars running through it looked like a glowing snake writhing through the streets. The effect was especially strong since most houses lacked electric light. Closer up air filled with the sound of horns, and shouts, and heavy trucks moving across the streets. People too, it seemed like there were more civilians than soldiers scrambling through the streets. Some tried to beg the soldiers for money or food, others just tried to keep up with the convoy.

As dawn broke the massive convoy was still leaving, a thick greenish line of Astarian troops trailing hundreds if not thousands of civilians behind them. There were quite a few civilian cars too, apparently many of the rich notables had decided to take their chances with the Astarians.

High above a group of MiG-29s patrolled the skies, and a small squadron of Hinds occasionally flew above the convoy. Other than that things were quiet, at least for now.

From his Vanguard command vehicle Colonel Al-Icanti looked with disgust and resignation at the city they were leaving. Far away he thought he could see the Japanistani forces, but there'd be no trial of steel and fire now. Part of him regretted that, it'd be good to actually fight, instead of almost certainly taking some of the blame for this ignominious retreat.

Message to Japanistani Forces

As per your request we are leaving El-Kalim. Unfortunately the undue rush has prevented us from removing all of our defensive measures. I hope this will not prove too much of an inconvenience.

Colonel Abd-al-khidr al-Icanti

[Steve]

Everett, Cascadia


The assembled workers applauded the arrival of Capt. Joan Laughlin, RCAF, prompting the petite woman to salute back before she stepped off the electric cart and up to the newly-completed BF-549, an ASF-10C jet fighter to be delivered to the RCAF Central Reserve to await training and activation of a new squadron, the 10th Fighter Squadron, to be made up of 20 of the new order of ASF-10Cs that had been made this year.

As soon as the workers saw the pilot off for her flight to Kyle Air Force Base, they returned to work on other aircraft just like the departed BF-549. Other assembly sections at the plant had ASF-10Cs in various stages of production, just as plants across the country had GSF-14s and T-12Bs and KT-15s in similar stages of production, the Cascadian military aircraft industry operating at peak output to meet the recent spate of orders.


Capt. Laughlin was not the only pilot aloft with a new craft, however. Major Trevor Jenkins was hundreds of miles to the north, having launched from MacGregor AFB with the first test model SF-10D completed by the Boeing Corporation. The experienced pilot had already flown every other variant of the Condor, and the newest "Super Condor" was performing to his expectations, representing the future of Cascadian air strike capability.

[Coyote]

Camp Talisman,
Katangwa Free State




"Today," said Colonel Johan S'vimbi, "We are going to begin a historic new chapter in the history of the Katangwan people. With th ehelp of our allies from Canissia, we are embarking on a bold mission-- to master the very winds themselves, as we proudly announce the beginnings of the first ever... Katangwan Air Corp!"

There was much applause as the Colonel called out the names of the first six men to be selected for pilot training for the Katangwan people. They were good, smart men, all chosen by careful screening for reflexes and aptitude, and trained briefly in Canissia on theory and flight simulators. As the Colonel called out their names, the first ever airplanes of the nascent Kantangwan Air Force were rolled out of their hangars to the excited applause of the crowd.



It was dinky little turboprop, and it would serve not only as a trainer, but as the primary combat aircraft for the brand-new KAC. There were six operational, and service and support was entirely provided by Canissian ground crews-- who were also training Katangwan counterparts in an on-the-job training schedule. But the six little T-314s were hardy aircraft, and served bush air forces the world over with distinction-- and what those six diminutive airplanes represented to the people of Katangwa was a new era of importance on the world stage.

---------------------------------------------------------


Camp Dog,
Canissian HQ



"When was he brought in?" General Viers asked, his demeanor calm, but his skin pale.
"This morning," Doctor Bashar said, frowning. The concern and worry on his face was evident. "He started showing symptoms this morning."
"Morning," Viers said, "As the sun came up."

"Yes," Doctor Bashar said, "Just like the last one. The same... congestion of the lungs, the hypersensitivity to light..." The doctor wa sinterrupted by the arrival of one of the General's aides.

"Sir," he said, "Sorry to interrupt, but... there's been another one," the man said.
"Which Battalion?" Viers asked, nervous. The aide shook his head.
"Not one of ours," he said, "Batoshe River village. One of the local girls. She's being kept in a shaman's hut, but... the villagers are freaked out. Some say they want to burn her."
"They're still wound up about that Caravo attack a few weeks ago," Viers sighed, "Let's get a medical team out there. Helicopter pad, be ready in ten minutes. Doctor, I'll need one of your best men..."



Results:
Mysterious illness begins striking select folks in Katangwa Free State.

[Lonestar]

Williamsburg Post
San Fuego liberated!
Old Dominion forces have secured 90% of the Island and are now ‘moping’ up opposition forces, mainly Shepistani Advisors, a Brickhall spokeswoman said. In addition West Fuckland Island has been completely pacified; the Shepistani soldiers on the island have been evicted by less than 500 Old Dominion Citizen-Marines.

“This will go a long way towards ensuring that Shepistan upholds the 1946 Ceasefire Agreement.” One Dominion Colonel said.

Reports of Tian Xia strategic airlifters aiding in the movement of troops to San Fuego are as yet unconfirmed.


Royal Palace

“And the launch was a complete success.” General Sir Mitchell Winthrop, head of the National Aerospace Command said.

Lonestar grunted. “Good…3 communications satellites are better than 2. I would like to push forward with a manned space program, but at the moment I guess the best we can do at the moment is increasing the bandwidth a bit…Speak of the devil, any further reports on the latest Shepistani/Japanistani manned flight?”

“Goddamn rockchuckers and seaweed eaters”. Lord Wythe muttered.

“It looks like they reached an altitude of 115km this time around.” General Winthrop said.

“THAT THESE BARBARIANS CAN…” Lord Wythe roared

“…perform technically unimpressive feats is not unexpected, Mein herr” Blitzschlag put in. “Even zere biological programs are laughable. Rocky Mountain fever? Please.” He lit another cigarette. “No, slow and steady wins zee race, and ve shall have a device sooner than Shepistan or Japanistan.”

“A nuclear deterrent is all fine and dandy,” Lonestar said “But you must be out of your mind if you think I’m going to risk turning the Old Dominion into a parking lot.”

Blitzschlag shrugged. “It is what it is. Certainly, it would be foolhardy to seek out such a conflict until zee damage the libruls have done to civil defense in this country is repaired.”

“I would avoid it, even then. The only reason we’ve evicted the Shepistanis from the Eastern Shore is to put them on notice that I will no longer allow them to disregard previously held agreements. I might add that, had they handed over Evan’s murderer, I might have been inclined to let things stand. As it is…”

Lord Wythe nodded “Our honor cannot be blemished.”

[Karmic Knight]

Official response from Indhopal:
Hopefully we can address some of the Vineyards concerns about the CFR. We know that an occupation of the CFR alone will not bring about a lasting peace. Our plan from the start has been to reach out to the militias and other groups and attempt to bring them into the political process. We have already had successes in convincing militias to disarm in exchange for a place in the interim government.

The current trouble has come from some Revolutionary Front associated groups, mainly the Iron Tigers. They have taken Indhopal's negotiators hostage rather than talk. It is our strategy to significantly weaken them by taking away their income source, which we have already accomplished, then force them to the negotiating table with military pressure.

Indhopal is open to any ideas regarding the future of the CFR. The violence there seems intractable, and we wish to hear any suggestions the Vineyards might have on the matter. The best solution in the end may be to break the CFR into a number of republics. It is a nation that was drawn up in the colonial era with no regard for preexisting boundaries and hasn't had a functional central government for decades.

As for Minoy, Their goals in the CFR seem to be purely to grab what they can while they can. Letting them get involved in the process would be giving them license to loot the nation. If they have any legitimate security concerns about the CFR situation however, Indhopal would like to hear them. We also welcome any other states that would wish to contribute with non combat forces to operation Stabilizer.

Finally, Indhopal would welcome letting other Frequesuean republics into the FTO. One of our goals has always been to increase membership in the organization.

Message in Response
Before the Vineyards commit to anything other than broad strokes thinking, we would like to know if Indhopal has any maps of the current climate and situation of the CFR. We feel a map of the situation will allow the VEIL think-tanks better data than the current information providable. Also, any infomation on the various bandit bands would be much appreciated.

Specifically, the Vineyards are wondering who is in control of the area of the former CFR's link to open ocean.

We are glad you agree with trying to expand the FTO.

[PeZook]

Co-written with Norseman

Karic's Pride, T +7 hours 22 minutes

The man standing guard at the front entranced looked at his boss' client as he walked out with his new purchase. The girl he bought was that new one...it's too bad the boss didn't allow anybody to have fun with her, the man thought, checking out her body. He sighed to himself and fished out a cigarette from his front pocket. It was getting pretty damn cold already, and he still had to stand guard here for two more hours.

He inhaled deeply, enjoying the tobacco. It was then when he saw two young men who cleared the street corner, walking briskly towards him, past the client's entourage. One of them wore a long overcoat, the other a heavy padded jacket.

Something was odd about both of them. They moved with a purpose, completely unlike random passersby, and they were obviously coming straight at him. The guard threw his cigarette on the ground and moved his AK a bit,so that he could grab it quickly.

As they came close, the guard was about to ask what they were doing here, but the one wearing the jacket quickly grabbed his arm and twisted it, and the other stabbed him straight in the heart with a large, serrated knife he pulled out seemingly out of nowhere. Both of them set the body gently on the sidewalk.

"SROKA-2, you may proceed to your entry point", one of the men said into his small headset, removed his overcat and extended the stock of a shortened AKS he kept under it.

Captain Nalecki saw the entire scene unfold from his vantage point across the street ; However, he also noticed a guard was acting up in the corner watchtower. He seemed to have heard something, walked up to the railing and was shouting for his friend - the one who just got stabbed.

"Take him out", the captain said to the machine gunner, who was observing the situation just as intently as he did. The corporal nodded, steadied his PK and gently squeezed the trigger.

The burst of automatic fire ripped into the night, resounding across empty streets, and caused an explosion of complete chaos. The watch tower practically exploded as heavy bullets smashed its thin windows, raining shattered glass onto the street and patrolling guards below.

Immediately afterwards, just as dogs started barking wildly and people entered the phase where they screamed at each other trying to figure out what was going on, an RPG round whizzed above the wall and smashed into the central watchtower, destroying it utterly and taking out the only heavy machine gun in the compound.

The worst part was only just beginning, though, as paratroopers affixed explosive charges to all doors into the main office building/living area of the compound.

Four explosions shook the building to the very core, blowing smoke, concrete dust and the doors themselves inside. Flashbang grenades followed, and then the paratroopers themselves, rushing inside, weapons at the ready.

Gunfire erupted across the compound, with vicious, short-range firefights happening seemingly everywhere at the same time. Confused guards were attempting resistance, shooting randomly in long bursts, and were met with discplined fire from PeZookian commandoes. Bullets pierced bodies, blew holes in walls and destroyed the carefully selected decor of Miksevic's "offices". Within seconds, many of the myriad rooms were filled with smoke, dust, broken glass, shell casings and blood.

Outside, the gunner of SROKA-11, one of the two RPG teams stalking on the roof of a residential building across the street, fired off another RPG grenade at the generator shack. The round smashed through cinderblocks, throwing two nearby guards on the ground, screaming and holding their faces.

The gunfire and explosion echoed above the sleeping city, mixing with barking of terrified dogs and crying of awekened children. Human screams and sharp reports of shortened AKs formed a horrible symphony together with that background noise.

"Lights are still on!", shouted the spotter slash loader, "We didn't get the generator!"

The gunner handed off the RPG-7 to his loader and picked up an RPO-A rocket launcher he had prepared. He took careful aim at the hole the last grenade made and fired off the rocket.

The thermobaric round hit the shack straight on, just as Damian Slava, Miksevic's lieutenant, ran out of his private quarters onto the walled-off courtyard. The explosion surprised him completely, especially since the building imploded to the inside. The lights gave out almost immediately, rid of electric power.

He could only see muzzle flashes now, his night vision not used to darkness. This looked eerie and scary, as his men tried to defend the watchtowers from unseen shooters. Bullets smashed into the three-meter cinderblock wall and the coutryard itself, and loud gunfire could be heard from the offices.

Damian was not really a coward: he's spent his youth on the streets of Karic's Pride, and was in more than one fight for his life. This was a long time ago, however, and the entire situation was far more frightening than a drunken knife fight. The sheer chaos was overwhelming, the darkness appealed to his primal instincts.

But it all came to one decision: he could stay or he could run. And he chose to stay and fight, whoever the attackers might be.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lights gave out very soon after their entry ; A slight desynchronization of the plan cost the PeZookians the life of one man. Right now, though, the entire compound went dark, and they were the only ones with vision aids inside.

To Miksevich, this was a complete surprise. He was upstairs when the attack started, reviewing some of his ledgers and counting his newly acquired wealth. He had no idea who the attackers were and what they wanted - none of them have said anything, choosing instead to mercilessly gun down any armed guard they've seen.

He managed to send a radio message, though, to his friends at the militia. Karic's Pride had a police force, but they were weak, ineffective and corrupt - Miksevich thought it would be a much better investment to bribe officials in Sjenska's "Army" in exchange for protection...they had the bigger guns, after all.

There still remained one problem, of course. To survive untill they got here.

Karic's Pride, Miksevic's Compound, T +7 hours 32minutes

The stairs led up and joined a short corridor. Right now, it was a death zone, barricaded with whatever the guards could find.

Captain Nalecki made his way up the stairs, taking two in one stride.

"What's the situation?", he asked one of the soldiers hunkered down near the corner. At the same time one of the barricaded guards fired a long burst, doing nothing but messing up a random wall.

"There's three of them, sir, and they've built themselves a nice little barricade. The corridor is flat, there's no cover at all. Storming it would be suicide."

"Yeah", Nalecki agreed, "From this side, yeah. Where's corporal Bielan?"

----------------------------------------------------------

They discussed the plan quickly. All that was needed to circumvent the barricade was a ladder and some explosives. Nalecki led a fire team himself to the courtyard in order to find the necessary tools.

The guards there were slightly better prepared, but still dazzled from the beginning of the assault, and of course they had to keep their heads down because of fire coming from the rooftops.

They were engaged with hand grenades and rifle fire, with the firefight occuring at a mere dozen meters or so, in almost complete darkness. Eventually, led by Damian, the remaining guards have retreated into the slave pens.

"21, pursue them! 22, get me a ladder!", Nalecki shouted, and then checked a grazing wound he's received. The vest saved him, though if the bullet went a couple centimeters to the right, it would've went right through.

One fireteam pursued the retreating guards, while another scavenged a ladder from a ruined toolshed. They had to shoot an attack dog, which was running around the yard crazy with fear, trying to viciously attack anyone it's seen.

The ladder was placed against the wall of the office building, and corporal Bielan got to work on setting up his charges, just as another firefight began at the slave pens.

------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the pens things were quiet. The slaves hunkered down in their alluminium cages, wondering what the commotion was all about. When guards rushed in, the captives traced them with expectant eyes. Many noted with satisfaction that their opressors, so confident and cruel just a day before, were scared. Very, very scared.

They had wounded, too. Some mortally so.

"Get these doors closed!", screamed Miksevic's lieutenant, pointing at the entrance to the warehouse. When his men did that, he suddendly realized they were trapped, and felt an onrush of panic.

"Damian, what do we do? What the hell do we do? Who the fuck are those people?"

Damian looked around, judging his situation. The attackers obviously knew what they were doing...as far as he knew, Miksevich was already dead, as were all the other guards. He'd surrender if he could, but he had no idea if those people didn't come here just to kill them all. Vengeance, it occured to him, Yes, it's probably vengeance...Miksevic must've crossed one person too many with his business, someone powerful or rich, and now they came to get us.

He raised his head when he heard the first bullet punch through sheet-metal walls of the warehouse and looked at the man who was asking him for instructions.

"We stand and fight"

They really had no other choice.

----------------------------------------------------------

"What the hell?!", shouted the gunner of SROKA-11, seeing a BRDM-2 charge into the street, followed by a dozen militia soldiers. He composed himself quickly, though.

"11 to 1, we have a BRDM on the street, and what looks like Sjenska militia. Requesting instructions.", he said into his radio. There was a brief pause, during which the militia men noticed the bodies and fires and the smashed doors and rushed towards the building. 11's gunner waited, his RPG sighter and steadied.

"1 to 11, take them out."

He pressed the trigger, and the RPG round screamed forward, ripped into the BRDM and set it ablaze. A secondary ammo explosion killed three milita soldiers instantly, while the rest were covered by fire from Kralewski's machine gun - he's moved to the roof now, to better cover the entire compound.

Only five men survived the ambush, mostly by running away when it started.

-----------------------------------------------------------

"What's going on?", Miksevich asked one of his guards, now manning the barricade in the dark corridor. They were horribly nervous, occasionally shooting a short burst down the corridor.

"I don't know, boss...none of them tried to attack us", the guard whispered back, "How long till the militia gets here?"

"Soon, Gorya. Soon. Don't worry."

It was easy to say. Miksevich was growing more and more certain he wasn't getting out of this one alive. Still, for the moment, the attack seemed to have stalld, despite the muffled shooting they could still hear from various parts of the compound.

He was about to get back into his private quarters, when a powerful explosion destroyed the entire eastern wall and collapsed parts of the roof, throwing him to the ground and choking him with concrete dust. Had he been inside, he would surely have been killed.

He barely managed to get up when a brilliant flash blinded him for a few seconds, followed by a loud bang. He hit something with his head - the wall, he realized - and the heard a shot, two, a short burst before falling over. When he regained his composure, someone was pushing his head down into the floor, littered with chunks of cinderblock and glass, and he could smell blood. People were walking about, shouting things in a language he didn't know.

------------------------------------------------------------

The pens were a bloodbath, with a dozen guard corpses laying on the ground. Two surrendered when PeZookians stormed inside, and Damian was wounded and taken into custody. The warehouse now smelled of blood, sweat and cordite.

The paratroopers were running up and down the pens, shining flashlights into the hostage's faces.All of them had them remembered, and called out the student's names randomly.

"Kasia! Olgierd! Olgierd Zebrzynski! Sylwia!", the shouted, and the longer they took, the more slaves realized that it was a rescue mission, not two mafias settling their scores. And all of them started shouting wildly at the same time, screaming to be let out of their cages.

"Goddammit", muttered one of the paratroopers when he finished checking, and clicked on his radio, "1, this is 21, the hostages aren't here. Repeat, they aren't here."

------------------------------------------------------------

"Shit!", the captain cursed loudly, "The bastards moved the hostages!"

Sergeant Nec looked at his commander.

"What do we do?", he asked, thinking about the militia which will no doubt be swarming the place any moment now.

"Secure all the papers you can. Ledger books, diaries, photographs, whatever you find. Bag them all...he has to document his business somehow! And gather all prisoners downstairs."

"Yes, sir!", the sergeant shouted and proceeded to give out orders. Miksevich was brutally yanked from the floor and hauled to the lobby, while soldiers scoured the ruined compound for any evidence, working by light of the burning BRDM and generator shack.

There were four prisoners in total: Miksevich himself, his lieutenant, and two guards who surrendered in the warehouse. Most of the other staff working here either didn't work tonight, ran away or tried to fight and were killed. The captain looked at them, checked Damian's wounds, ascertaining if he could be safely moved to extraction and finally looked at two large bags of papers collected by his troops.

"21, what's the situation at the warehouse?", he finally said into his radio

"They're all screaming for help, captain...some were wounded in the firefight. There's probably three of four dozen of them in here."

"Open the main gate and release them"

"Yes, sir"

Nalecki gave the ruined lobby one last look.

"This one", he pointed at Damian, "Stays here. He'll just slow us down. The rest come with us. We proceed to the primary extraction point. This place gets burned down."

The soldiers took to their tasks without hesitation. As they left the building, hauling their prisoners and loot, the first licks of flame began to creep out of the doors, soon bursting into a brilliant, orange flame, illuminating the sky with an eerie aura.

Aboard the Spirit of Freedom, T +18 hours

Oliver Gill felt immensely relieved when the ship entered international waters. From the radio he'd picked up some confused transmission, and from the looks of things someone had shut down the operation in Karic's Pride. Still he'd gotten away, and he was fairly sure he'd left no incriminating evidence behind. Better yet the hidden compartments were filled with slaves; he'd make a fortune of this trip.

Outside the sun was shining, so he went onto the deck to get some fresh air. A few moments later he spotted Kasia, the Pezookian slave he'd bought. She stood by the railing to the rear, looking towards the fading mainland. For some reason she shivered, even though it wasn't at all cold.

"Don't worry, you won't be on this boat forever," he said, as he pulled her close, casually feeling her breast.

"N-no," Kasia said, fighting the urge to push him away.

He turned her around, and noticed that her eyes were puffy and red, "Don't cry." He smiled a little, and kissed her lips, "When I sell the other slaves I'll have money, and I can be quite generous."

There was no answer, Kasia tried to look away, back towards the mainland again. There, in the horizon, her old life vanished, replaced by some nightmare from a lurid movie... All she could do was hope that somewhere there was some daring secret agent or something that'd save her.

[K. A. Pital]

Livorno, AFSR, CSR
The referenda was run on a sunny day - Korabelnikov always wondered why does such a simple thing as weather matter much for voting spectacles. Of course, the vote was overwhelmingly "yes". The number of CSR citizens here now included the entire PRSF population... which was quite a bit.

The massive fleet of CSR landing ships was long gone, along with several tankers to refuel the smaller LSTs on their way back to the CSR Northern Fleet Base. After the landing ships returned, a merchant fleet of CSR atomic bulkers started crossing the seas to Frequesque and back again - during the last months, the ships were hauling over supplies - humanitarian and other cargo.

Most of them were en-route back now that most of the cargo was hauled, but the lead atomic ice-breaking bulker "Sevmorput" still remained in port.

Korabelnikov observed the ship with silent respect for it's engineers.

With over 33,000 tons maximal deadweight and over 1300 containers, the mighty vessel was the flagship of the CSR bulker fleet - it, and it's six sisterships were operating on the Northern Sea Way, even now that the ice was creeping closer and closer to CSR northern ports.

With a 500-ton crane and several smaller auxillary cranes, the ship unloaded the cargo - energy generator replacements, construction materials to restore war damages... and mobile missile launcher complexes. Iskander SRBMs were shipped in minimal quantities - mostly for the CSR-arriving military men, according to the secret cargo list Korabelnikov had. Most of the shipment was the complex known to the world as "Scud". Proliferated as a mobile standoff missile and effective area denial weapon for the last 40 years, the Scud was a cheap way to arm the new brigades formed from PRSF servicemen with a standoff weapon. Payloads were blank - the locals could fit whatever they wanted to the written-off CSR SRBMs.

The CSR has boosted the military contingent in Frequesque to some 2 divisions and transported two fully complect PVO divisions with MiG-31 interceptors and S-400 mid- and long-range missile inventories - to protect Livorno itself and surrounding military objects, as well as some strategic locations in S.A.R.E.

Admiral Carlotta stood nearby, looking at the bulker - and sometimes moving eyes towards a pier where her damaged ships - the last large surface combatants of the former PRSF - rested for a time unknown.

- We are pushing through with the construction of a large drydock for service works, - Korabelnikov anticipated her coming question. - But it's not our fault your prior government did not have any means to construct one. We can't repair the damages properly without a drydock.

- You have a floating drydock with a width of 80 metres and 300 metres long, - she noted melancholically.

- You know full well it can't be transported here in assembled state... and it would be cheaper to construct a new one here - which is what I am doing, - Korabelnikov shrugged. - But until next summer, no repairs would be possible I fear.

The PCIA agent pulled out a smoke and a metallic lighter. The pack of cigarettes read "PRIMA". A face of the CSR President decorated the front drawing. He quickly read the warning: MINZDRAV WARNS: SMOKING LEADS TO CANCEROUS DISEASES - and used his lighter nonetheless.

Thick smoke flew away into the Livorno bay, which was now cold and bare - no crowds of tourists on the beaches. Not a living soul. Only the cargo terminal was full of people.

The gathering clouds finally poured a heavy rain. One of the drops killed the General's cigarette. He pulled on a cape and slowly went away from the observation post.

Stopping before a metallic ladder, Korabelnikov called the admiral once more.

- We will have to counsel on Operation Judith, - he stepped back a little. - But so far, let us wait and see.

Internment Camp #4, Westchester border zone, in vinicity of former S.A.R.E.



There were four of them in the barrack. And many more in the camp.

Weeks of detainment of refugees in the camp have stirred the public - close quarters, barely adequate food and zero comfort. In fact, most of them were ready to riot - they needed just one little sparkle.

And it was given to them. Through Roberto, the local long-tongue, rumors about impending massacre by Tian Jiao - through poisoned food - spread throughout the camp.

Hundreds - maybe even thousands of sleeper agents placed into the refugee wave - that was the last PRSF operation, it's final act of vengeance. Operation Judith had a clear and observable goal. Agents were thrown in with false histories and zero tools, to pose as refugees - until finally they would entrench in Westchester and conduct high-profile assassinations in the government.

And possibly kill the leader of said nation as well.

[PeZook]

Stasograd, SNC conference

(OOC: We are running the quick talk with Rogue over PMs, and we'll post it in full later on. Assume this happens afterwards.)

The Royal delegation arrived a bit late, due to president Shinra's visit in PeZookia. Still, there already were representatives attending, in the person of the PeZookian ambassador and his staff,and they quickly brought the King up to date on recent talks.

Thus, a series of bi- and multilateral talks took place on the same day, and messages were passed around to other leaders.

PeZookia would participate in the reconstruction of the Border States, comitting 500 million dollars to necessary projects ; With training of civil servants and establishment of a good administration being given priority, as well as restoration of basic infrastructure.

PeZookia's commitment to the SNC nuclear program remains unchanged at 3 billion per year. The King also advised to spread the infrastructure for plutonium production across several SNC states, so that limited bomber strikes would not be able to destroy all nuclear capability.

Contributions to FASTA would increase in 2009 to 7 billion per year, provided a succesful R-7 launch convinces Parliament to pony up the cash.

It was suggested that SNC strategic laser weapons be integrated with Canissian tactical laser program for benefit of scale and unification, which would ease their eventual deployment in the Continenal Defence Plan.