SDNWorld Redux: Story Thread the Fourth

[Fingolfin_Noldor]

CATO Science Journal

Joint team of Byzantine-UCSR Physicists officiate the running of the world's first fission/fusion hybrid reactor

A joint team of Byzantine-UCSR team cracked open the Champagne bottle as the first fission/fusion hybrid reactor came online at Commune-1. Utilizing many technologies researched over the last few decades, many of which drawn from the the development of the CATO Fusion Reactor Project which began operation a few years ago, and other fusion projects such as Polywell reactors and inertial confinement reactors, the hybrid reactor represents a major new paradigm in fusion reactor design. Many existing designs face many hurdles to achieve the required plasma density, and net power output. Hybrid reactors on the other hand, builds upon the decades of experience and research into breeder fission reactors. The design that was recently completed, consists of a spherical torus, and a blanket of fissionable material. The fusion acts as a neutron source to "burn" the fission material and can be used to burn 25% of the transuranics before the fuel has to be reprocessed and then reused. Further, though the fusion reactor is noted to be a net energy consumer, the blanket of fission waste produces more than enough energy to offset the consumption of energy. The fusion core is estimated to produce 100MW of energy, but the additional fission blanket allows the reactor to produce a net output in the order of 1 GW. The hybrid reactor is roughly 3m diameter, and 7.5m tall, making it relatively compact. Another two types of hybrid reactor are currently under construction. One uses a tokomak configuration, while the other uses polywell.

Other reactors currently under going testing at Commune 1 include an integral fast reactor, which is another joint Byzantine-UCSR project.

OOC: http://ptonline.aip.org/journals/doc/PH ... 24_1.shtml

New space telescope launched

A new space telescope containing 5 telescopes was launched this month. It is designed far ultraviolet to the hard X-ray, plus an all-sky monitor. The telescope complements the infra-red telescope that was launched last year.

[Fingolfin_Noldor]

Constantinople Times

Joint CATO land and naval exercises to be held next month.

Annual CATO land and naval exercises will be held next month. The land exercise will be held in Siberia, while the naval exercise will be held off the coast of the NFT. Byzantium is expected to send a CVBG and an ESG along with a Marine Comitatenses Legion to the naval exercise, while a full Tagmata will take part in the army maneuvers in Siberia, which is expected to be quite chilly.

Ion Trap Computing

Researchers today demonstrated a number of applications utilizing Ion traps. One application involves using ions as a Quantum repeater and a test between Constantinople and Stasograd was demonstrated where a quantum encrypted message was sent between the two capitals using telecom fiber. This may pave the way for quantum cryptography networks. While a full high bandwidth network is years away, researchers say that it might be possible in the next ten years to deploy quantum repeaters. Another application involves semiconductor ion traps. Researchers say a variety are being tested, and these represent the most serious push to miniaturise Paul Ion Traps. Whether or not these attempts will be successful remains to be seen.

[Siege]

Saint of Sinners (4)



After my arrival in the capital city it took me two weeks to settle into a routine. Nguema was a pathetic excuse of a city, so I'd seen most of it after a day. What I hadn't seen however was the tail I'd picked up. I'd been briefed on this but even if I hadn't any half-decent assassin would've figured it out: Teodoro Macías was notorious for his security concerns; any foreigner arriving in his city was sure to be followed by his fanatics in plainclothes. Undoubtedly they would want to make sure I was just as innocuous as I pretended to be. So, I couldn't exactly walk around the downtown palace without getting noticed.

Like I was going to case the joint myself. Idiots. Only an amateur would do that.

So, I took two weeks to settle into the routine of someone recently arrived in the capital city. I told anyone who wanted to listen I was an expat, from an impoverished family of Velarian Astarians, and that I was looking for work. It explained my presence, and the occasional meeting with one of MacBride's contacts.

Speaking of which, those contacts were suspiciously well-informed too. They provided me with all kinds of information concerning the god-president's schedule and whereabouts, up to and including surveillance photos taken from way high up. The man who handed them over said they were taken from an aircraft, but he didn't look like he believed it himself. And I wasn't exactly inclined to be more gullible than he was, if you catch my drift.

I'd never been handed satellite surveillance photos of a mark before. It was kind of a big deal. Not too many people could get you satellite photo's with enough resolution to make out the kind of watch someone's wearing, if you know what I mean. Not for the first time I found myself wondering who the hell MacBride was working for. In the meantime however I continued my pretend-visit, going through all the pathetic motions of a desperate woman looking for a job in a desperate shithole, receiving my updates as I went along, just as we'd agreed beforehand.

After two weeks my patience began to pay off. The security men following me got bored with me. Bored men got lax, and lax men made mistakes. It took me three days to figure out the routines of the set of guys who were tailing me. Another two to memorize all the faces of my stalkers. By the time the final meet went down, three weeks after I arrived, I was all set to go.

The last drop of information was even quicker than the previous ones. A girl came up to me in the market and palmed me an envelope. Back in the hotel I saw it contained a timetable and photo's of a single location.

Well at least they didn't waste their breath.

The day the hit was going to go down I only had to shake my tail. I had my case with me. I'd carried a similar case several times before, so my stalkers wouldn't necessarily be surprised that I did so today. I strolled into an alley, dropped the luggage, then double-backed toward the entrance. The moment my resident stalker walked into view I yanked him into the shadows and put a blade through his throat. He slumped down, gurgling as he drowned in his own blood. With some effort I dragged him behind a dumpster.

I now had six hours before his superiors got wise. On the clock, baby. Let's get this show rolling.

I'd stayed out of the area surrounding the palace before, but the surveillance shots had given me all I needed. I broke into a warehouse roughly a mile from the palace and scaled the steps. The second floor window offered an unobstructed view of Macias' residence in Nguema, a gaudy piece of architecture that seemed horribly out of place considering its dilapidated surroundings. Then again the resident ruler didn't exactly care about the bottom line of his fellow citizens, which didn't exactly make me feel guilty. I whistled a tune under my breath as I opened the case and assembled the AS50.

"Its time to go to sleep now not another peep..."

I laid down on the table in the back of the room and drew a bead on Macias' ugly-ass palace. He even had thirty-feet statues of himself erected near the bullet-proof entrances. I swear, you wouldn't be able to find a more outrageous piece of self aggrandisement in Bissauru if you tried. Word was, the fucker had Arabian architects flown in even as his own people died of the plague and starvation. What a prick.

"And Ill see you in the morning light..."

I glanced at my watch to checked the time. Any minute now. I felt that familiar, strange strange form of excitement that always bubbles to the surface just before taking out a hit. The feeling of absolute control over life and death is quite intoxicating.

Oddly enough the same song always kept popping into my head whenever I did this, no matter how often I did it.

“And then the radio was playing and the weatherman was saying...”

You had to know that Teodoro Macías was notoriously paranoid. He rarely traveled by motorcade, and barely ever showed his face to the public. So, the hit was going to have to be come from an unexpected vector, and from a long distance too. Even moreso because I didn't plan on becoming expendable. So, we'd planned accordingly.

“The hurricane had blown away...”

A sudden ruckus. A helicopter slowly rose above the walls of the palace. It was Macias, had to be – his was the only Mi-8 in the country that actually worked. He and his retinue always traveled down to the coast on the same day of the week. In Bissauru, the god-president's fondness for the young underage girls of Mbini was well known. Almost legendary, in fact .It was a weakness that made him predictable, and now it was going to get him killed. No doubt that helicopter had special protection against MANPADs.

Good thing I wasn't going to be using a MANPAD. 'Cause MANPADs were for amateurs.

“Daddy's little boy was jumping up for joy...”

To be honest, if even half the things they whispered about Macias were true he was bound to be an utter bastard. Some people said he fed his political opponents to crocodiles. Others said he kept the bits the crocodiles didn't want for himself. Either way he was a pervert and I was glad to do the job. Hell in better times I might've done it for free. Perhaps that surprises you. But just because I'm cold and jaded doesn't mean I don't have any feelings.

In some ways I guess I'm weak and pathetic like everyone else.

“And he was singing at the break of day...”

Anyway, this was going to be a tricky, long-range shot. I had to take into account humidity, elevation, temperature, wind, spin drift, the Coriolis effect, not to mention the downdraft of the helicopter itself. The target was a good nine and a half seconds flight time out, so I had to shoot where it was going to be.

Once upon a time I would have had a spotter to do the mental arithmetic. Those days were long gone. Oh well.

“Daddy, is he a goodie or a baddie...” My voice was a whisper as I allowed a minute amount of air escape from my lungs.

My finger brushed the trigger and the gun discharged. The recoil kicked the rifle into my shoulder. It didn't even register. I was already correcting my aim by the time the first round impacted. The heavy anti-materiel round went exactly where I wanted it, punching through the pilot's windscreen and controls like they weren't even there and not so much killing him as blowing him in half. The helicopter quivered noticeably as the corpse slumped over the ruined controls.

“Daddy why do people go to war...”

The semi-automatic rifle had cycled the second round into the chamber even before the pilot snuffed it. My second shot rang out just after he did. It crossed the distance and punched through the helicopter's engine directly underneath where it connected with the rotor assembly, completely annihilating it in the process.

“Once upon a time there were cannibals...”

Yeah, there was no way that bird was staying in the air. Not that I could stay around to enjoy the spectacular effect of my handiwork. The Mi-8 fell from the heavens like a stone. And Teodoro Macías, self-proclaimed 'god-president' of Bissauru, spent the last miserable moments of his life screaming his lungs out in terror, trapped in a metal casket plummeting to earth before it exploded in a ball of fire on the roof of his palace.

I was already haflway through the process of dismantling the rifle before the blast of the explosion had mushroomed off. By the time I got down the warehouse stairs the palace was burning something fierce. Apparently they'd topped off the helo. Suckers. That certainly made my job easier. I smiled and skipped out into the street. By the time Macias' security people comprehended what just happened I would already be out of the country, whistling as I went.

“Now there are no cannibals anymore...”


Result: Teodoro Macías, god-president of Bissauru, snuffs it.

[Siege]

Saint of Sinners (5)



TY Gardner penthouse, 360 5th Street, San Dorado City

“… in the wake of the death of long-time leader Teodoro Macías a fierce struggle for political dominance has erupted in Bissauru. The conflict is dominated by tribal allegiances, pitting Macias' loyal security apparatus dominated by the ethnic Asmauzi tribe against the Mekawi, which dominates the upper echelons of the South Velarian nation's military. Meanwhile according to a Worldwide One sources in the capital city militia leader Hugo Shroomvez is preparing to move his troops into the country. Shroomvez was ousted several years ago after a failed coup attempt...”

In front of the television, seated in comfortable leather chairs that offered a spectacular view over the skyline of San Dorado City, the former president of the NFT smiled and took a sip of his cranberry juice.

“Here we go.” Sidney savored the sweet taste of success as he watched the fire that burned down the palace of the god-president in all-digital color-corrected glory. “That was surprisingly easy, wasn't it?”

“Only just getting started sir.” Michael MacBride seemed to prefer the magnificent view from the penthouse above that delivered by the TV. “Hitting Macias was the easy part. We still have to wrest control of the country.”

“Quite right” Sidney agreed. “How goes the clean-up so far?”

“Yeah, about that.” MacBride looked uncomfortable. “Look, boss... I know you don't want to leave any threads dangling if they could come back to bite us, but I was thinking we maybe could, you know, not sanitize the shooter?”

Sidney looked at his bodyguard, a mixture of confusion and surprise on his face. “Why Michael, I never figured you for a humanitarian. Particularly not when hired guns are concerned. Why the sudden squeamishness?”

The bodyguard rolled his eyes. “I just think it's not necessary to kill Sarah.”

“Sarah? You two are on a first-name basis now? I thought you and her tried to kill each other a bunch of times?”

“That's not the point.”

“It is the point. I thought you'd be happy to see the job done for good. You know, hit two flies in one stroke.”

“Yeah. No. I mean, that was then, this is now. She came through for us big-time, and to double-cross her like that... It don't sit right with me. She deserves better. Besides I think she could be a useful asset to our operation.”

The former president narrowed his eyes. “Who put you in charge of human resources?”

MacBride looked exasperated. “There's also the fact that if we bollix it up, she'll kill you and me in our sleep. I know her. We wouldn't be able to sleep easy. She wouldn't rest until she found out who was behind it. And she would, and then she'd kill us.”

Sidney sighed and turned toward his bodyguard. “Mike, we're going to blow her up with enough C4 to put Selene into a different orbit. You're grasping at straws. Is this some kind of weird warrior code honor thing I don't get, or is there something I need to know about you and this Sarah character?”

The guard gave him a look as if he'd swallowed a bug. “C'mon boss, gimme a break. I'm asking for a favor here.”

Sidney briefly considered that, then rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in mock defeat. “Fine. Fine! You get to have your girl. In one piece and breathing, no less. One thing though...”

MacBride looked up. “Yes?”

“You personally tell her she's hired. And we don't take 'no' for an answer.”

***



Tramp Freighter 'Star of San Marin', off the coast of Velarian Astaria

I shoulda known it was a trap the second I boarded the freighter. Unfortunately I hadn't, and the armed men had surprised me several miles off shore. That was the second time someone got the jump on me recently. I was getting sloppy. Sloppy people end up dead. I knew a corpse behind a dumpster in Nguema who could attest to that.

Now there were guns in my back and I was being lead below deck. That hardly boded very well for me. I blinked, straining my eyes to see in the darkness of the hold, when a familiar voice called out.

“Former lieutenant Sarah O'Donnell. I thought you were dead.”

A resigned smile split my lips. “I thought I was dead too, until I realized it was just that I was in Velaria” I said back the response the former staff sergeant had given me during our renewed acquaintance back on the Costa.

MacBride stepped out of the shadows like a character from a bad Shroomanian B-movie. “Well played, Sarah.”

“Michael. If you're here to taunt some more before you kill me...”

“Kill you?” He actually had the gall to sound offended, although if you ask me he didn't seemed too convinced himself. “Why-ever would I do that?”

“If you don't plan on doing me in then why is there a gun to my back?”

“Call it insurance. I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to pay you. And, you know...”

“You know what?”

He smiled roguishly, like he knew more than he let on to. “My boss wants to offer you a job.”

[Shroom Man 777]

BROUGHT TO YOU IN GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING UNREAL TIME, BITCHES

The past is a gaping hole. You try to run from it, but the more you run, the deeper it grows behind you, its edges yawning at your heels. Your only chance is to turn around and face it. But it's like looking down into the grave of your love, or kissing the mouth of a gun, a bullet trembling in its dark nest, ready to blow your head off.

Somewhere in the Mediterranean
Three days after the Tri-Cities Terror Troubles



There's an army of bodies under the Mediterranean.

The men, women and children who had drowned in the black abyss below me, their mortal remains strewn amidst the wreckage of sunk ships and yachts. I could feel the dead down there, reaching up to welcome me as one of their own. It was an easy mistake to make.

They gazed up longingly with their dead eyes, looking at my faint silhouette floating on the water's surface so much like a leaf in the wind, or a corpse in the water. They were waiting for me.

Dead eyes see no future.





I could hear them calling to me. A lullaby from the deep, singing me to my death. The cries of stolen children echoing in that horrible blackness.

When a child is born, she takes her first breath, opens her eyes and cries - realizing that she has entered a harsh world outside the safety of her mother's womb.

Reborn from death's lingering embrace, I took my first breath and cold water filled my lungs. I opened my eyes and screamed.

I had returned to life only to have the currents take me to my fate.





As I drifted, a blinding strobe-light stabbed into my eyes and in the water I saw strange cyclopean things darting to and fro in the inky light-pierced depths around me. They encircled me with predatory purpose driven by an inhuman malice.

They began to abase me with their tentacles.

I flailed blindly as their serpentine limbs coiled around me, slithering suckers constricting my body as they dragged me into the lightless depths below. I opened my mouth to cry feebly for help, but this time no sound left my mouth. I gurgled and choked and drowned as I was brought deeper, as the nameless things in the water took me into the black.

I reached up to the blinding strobe-light, clawed for the surface of the sea even though I was taken ever further away from it. I hoped in vain for salvation.



Khitanese fishing trawler Worf



Khitanese fishing trawler Worf was steaming away from PeZookian waters. Foul weather and the terrorist troubles had made the formerly prime fishing waters very much unfavorable, so they charted a course out of the Tri-Cities Bay and into the greater Mediterranean waters - where the currents would nonetheless bring them a favorable catch.

This time, though, the currents would bring them a very unfavorable catch.

Captain Worf - who had named the vessel after himself - was ruminating on the perturbing turn of events in PeZookia and how close the call had been. He and his crew were engaging in illegal fishing in protected fisheries, fishing not just fish but also succulent squidlings which were most profitable produces to be sold in the Khitanese fish markets, and if they had been caught by the stingy PeZookian authorities Captain Worf was most certain that the penny-pinching Pezacks would grub him of all his meager monies in goddamn fines. With everything that had happened in the past few days, Worf wondered if he could ever go back into PeZookian waters for squidlings, or if the risk was just too high.

The radio was blaring out PeZookian and Shroomanian news, alarms and updates, but Worf did not speak PeZookish or Shroomish so he didn't really listen much. He did pick out words like 'search and rescue' and 'Sovereign Navy', which worried him and made him unconsciously rub his forehead ridges -

"Kaplah!" the intercom blared. "Battle'h chulak quo'nos gowron!"

Captain Worf bolted out of his seat and rushed outside to see what was going on. The men had gathered by the net-lines and were reeling something in, but it was not a squidling, not even a walrus, but rather... a person.

"Jaffa kree!" Worf began barking out orders. "Goa'uld chulak! Hatak!"



"Zat'nickatel!" one of the crewmen answered as he hauled the man on board. "Tau'ri!"

The man was still alive, as evidenced by his coughing out of seawater. The gurgling and hacking gradually gave way to weak and tiny little cries, like miniature screams, as the man tried to struggle feebly in his weakened state. The crewmen manhandled the man and brought him inside while Worf continued to bark orders in incomprehensible, guttural Khitanese.

They placed him on a table reserved for gutting fish and the man's feeble womanly flailing soon stopped entirely. The crewmen stopped manhandling the man, letting go and standing aside, fearing that they had killed him under their rigorous grip. Then they breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that the man's chest was moving up and down - the man, whoever he is, was still alive but unconscious.

Still, it paid to be safe, so they called their 'doctor' - a crewmember who once worked in a funeral parlor before Zorian Japanorse cremations became fashionable and put him out of business, making him opt to be a fisherman.

"Yub nub," the 'doctor' nodded.



"Bargon wan chee kospah ooh. Yang chas Solo chone Wookie.”

Their new guest was in stable condition, he would most probably live and there would be no need for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. But they had taken off his clothes and placed him in the position, just in case.

“Bantha poodoo.”



Somewhere in the Mediterranean
Two days later



Dawn.

I stood there on the ship’s prow, watching the rising sun emerge from beneath the horizon. It cast its orange hue on both sea and sky, the warm colors distinguishing one from the other, a contrast to the twilight when there had been no such distinction. The sun was an angry bloodshot eye that glared at me, that seemed to ask me:

Who are you?

It was a good question. One that the ship’s crew had asked as soon as I had regained consciousness. I was naked, cold and lost, and surrounded by burly seamen. Before the ramifications of the situation struck me, they asked for my name. It didn’t take long for me to find out that I couldn’t answer even that simple question.

Who am I?

I don’t know.

I had spent the previous night contemplating my identity. I stood there on the ship’s prow in the hours before sunrise, gazing at the sea absent-mindedly. The night was darkest just before the dawn, and in the dark night no one could tell sea or sky apart.

They were my past, my future. They were indistinguishable, unidentifiable, unknowable.

All I had was the present. The prow of a ship sailing towards uncharted waters, to places I didn’t know. The wind had become a harsh chilling breeze against my face, I was bound for nowhere. I had come from a forgotten past, my destination was an uncertain future.



Who was I?



Khitan
On a harbor by the sea

Noon.

Midday.

Finally, we arrived at a Khitanese port where the fishermen would unload their catch. Singular. I had helped reeled it in, it was a big one. The Japanistanis would pay a hefty price for Giant Squid Sashimi, enough of a price so that the sailors could stay on shore and enjoy themselves on dry land for a while, getting drunk on booze and fornication. That was fine by me, though I had other plans. I didn’t intend to overstay their hospitality.

I had other things to do. I had other places to go. I still didn’t know who I was, where I came from, what I was doing in PeZookian waters and why I was found with shrapnel lodged on my skull. I still didn’t know my name.

I had to find out. All these things, any of these things – even just one of them.



The captain came to bid me farewell. Thanked me for helping them out with their first and only catch of the trip, also thanked me for not eating too much of their grub. He wished me luck in whatever it was I was going to do, hoped for the best.

“So long, Stranger,” Worf waved at me. Of course, he was speaking in Khitanese and I didn’t speak Khitanese, so I had no idea what he was saying in his guttural language.

I waved back once, then I turned around and walked away.

I was entering an unknown world, venturing into uncharted territory. I had nothing but the clothes on my back and some change in my pockets – none of which were even my own. I had no idea where I was, where I was going to, or even what I was going to do when I got there.

Truth be told, I had nothing. I didn’t even have a name.



I all was alone in Khitan.



The sun went down with practiced bravado. Twilight crawled across the sky, laden with foreboding.

[Shroom Man 777]

[PeZook]

Prime Noir - Interlude

Secret Military Area 6

Paul had no idea what to do. They expected a decision, a calm and rational response by a head of state, used to making hard calls. After forty years of doing this, it should come automatically: the right questions, the correct insights, culiminating in a decision best for his country and his people.

But it didn't come. King Paul the First, sovereign of PeZookia, sat there, staring at the oaken table, with highest officials of his military and intelligence agencies looking at each other in increasingly awkward silence.

If I authorize the raid, I'll be facing war with Japanistan, was the only thought which played in the King's head over and over, I'd trade the lives of thousands, perhaps millions, for revenge against one man...

Paul realized that he didn't panic because he couldn't make a decision: he panicked because the only right decision possible meant letting Karic get away what he's done.

He's run a country for decades, but all that power didn't allow him to protect his own daughter.

"No", he finally said, very quietly, "I do not authorize a raid. Do whatever you can without a military incursion into Egypt."

"With all due respect, sire, this will take days, weeks perhaps...the hub is very well protected."

"I understand, but I won't trade PeZookian cities for vengeance."

"Karic already struct a PeZookian city, sire. He was to be put down, or he'll do it again.", general Kulinsky observed, "The more time we give him, the more likely he will disappear again."

Another period of awkward silence followed.

"How deniable can we be?", Paul finally asked. Rufus Shinra listened intently, as the military men outlined their plan.

Fabowice

The district prosecutor of Fabowice lived in a comfortable loft apartment in the city's financial district - quite a long way from work, of course, but his newly bought Mercedes Shromz allowed him to commute rather comfortably.

How the hell could we have missed it?, Sebastian wondered, looking at the man pull into the driveway in the massively expensive sedan.

"Yeah. It's so obvious, isn't it? I'd have thought that some inquisite reporter would've taken an interest, at least...", Amanda commented from the passenger's side, obviously thinking the same thing.

Janusz Dąbrowski's house and office was under surveillance for days now, and his phones were bugged: all completely legally, of course, though securing the necessary warrants without the prosecutor knowing was a real pain. The evidence gathered was irrefutable.

"Yeah. You know what else bothers me?", Sebastian said, pulling out his badge and hanging it on his neck.

"No. What?"

"That the bastard Saffayed will now become a state witness."

Amanda's expression went sour with distaste. It was obvious she didn't like that option, either.

"Hopefully, that's not the only name he knows. Are we doing it?"

"Yeah. Let's do it.", Sebastian replied and got out of the car.

Inside the house, Janusz D., suspected of corruption and conspiracy, sat down in the living room for dinner with his family. He smiled and joked with his wife and two small children, and they passed around the potatoes and pork chops, planning a weekend sailing trip to the Tri-Cities.

Then the door bell rang. When his wife opened the door, she saw two detectives and a pair of uniformed officers.

"Mrs. Dąbrowska, we are here to see your husband. Please step aside."

"Wh...what's going on? Janusz?", the woman managed to say before she the officers barged into the house. The attorney stood up, his mouth open to protest against the intrustion...but when he saw Sebastian, he understood it all.

"Sir, you are under arrest on charges of aiding in human trafficking and corruption. Turn around.", Sebastian said, with no small hint of satisfaction in his voice.

[Lonestar]

Skullcrusher Mountain Bunker Complex

The right sleeve of Sheppard's uniform remained pinned-up, giving him the look of an old warhorse. Closing his eyes, Sheppard felt the phantom limb itch. It seemed as if every other day he woke up, remembering Wade chopping off his arm than casually walking him around his quarters, spreading his gushing blood around. He hadn't really expected that it would end like this.

The two Dominion Knights prodded him forward to the conference room. At one point in his life he was the bogeyman that all Domino children feared. And now?

Now he was a cripple locked away in prison under a mountain. Again.

So close. Sheppard thought. So Goddamn close! He had thought he had been careful sending the message to his remaining friends in Japanistan, but, it seems, security was tighter than he'd thought.

Or maybe the Japanistanis were the ones who turned him in?

The doors to the conference room opened, and Sheppard saw Lord Fairfax sitting at the end of the table. Agent Wade was standing behind him. Fairfax spoke.

"Sit."

Sheppard sat. Lonestar sighed, then held up his right hand with two fingers showing.

"That's strike two, Shep."

"Strike two?"

"Strike one was the whole Nukey-nukey thing the first time around. I gave you a second chance for old times sake, and this is how you repay me?" Lonestar slid a folder across the table. Inside was a copy of the message sent to his Kempeitai contacts. Specifically, the ISI fellows who had ended up gainfully employed with the Kempeitai following the Pathogen War. "So, Strike two. I was willing to go to bat for you, PR be damned, but..." Lonestar shook his head.

"So instead you staged my 'death'? Oh, like that won't look like you're burning down the house to get rid of evidence." Shep retorted.

"I really don't give a good Goddamn what the public in the CATO countries think." Lonestar said. "They already think Dominoes drink the blood of infants on the altar of the Blood God, so..." Lonestar shrugged. "But this..." Lonestar pointed at the folder again. "Let me ask you something, even if you did somehow pull it off, then what? You're king of Japanistan for a week, then you'll die? Do you think that somehow Japanistani specialists will be able to replicate your treatment in that window? They bioweapons program is good, but no one has us matched on HERV research. No one."

Sheppard remained silent. Lonestar continued.

"So, what to do with you? By all rights you should be hanged until you are dead, dead, dead. But, like I said, you have one more strike. The plan you have is not a bad one, especially considering the numbers of pro-Tian Xia personnel in the IJA. Unfortunately, I can't really see anyone accepting a rock-chucker in a position of power in Japanistan." Lonestar pushed a button, and a man in a labcoat walked in.

"This is Dr. Vandevender. He will be performing the Japanistanoplasty on you."

[Shroom Man 777]

LIVE on ShroomSat/StratTV
The Sovereign Shroomanian Sentinel
CROSSROADS CORPORATE CONFERENCE

Shroomania's great multinational megacorporations, and the Sovereignty itself, has sent representatives to the Incorporated Nation of Crossroadia's comprehensive corporate conference.

Most prominent of the Shroomanian representatives are none other than the director of the Sovereignty's Ministry of Shroomanian Trade Affairs and Business Budgetary Economic Regulation (STABBER):



Duke Dickens Duncaster.

Along with the CEO of the MacMillan Megacorporation himself (and one of the major shareholders of Byzantime Air MacMillan/BAM):



Michelangelo MacMillan.

And his principal rival, the CEO of the Schrom Korporation!



Viktor Schrom!

The presence of key Shroomanian corporate cats in Crossroadia signals a notable Shroomanian attempt at fostering international corporate cooperation between both corporatocracy and capitalist Continental country. Crossroadia and Shroomania have recently signed fishing deals entailing the massive development of coastal fish farms and both nations' leaders have expressed a willingness of continuing mutually beneficial trade relations.

[Crossroads Inc.]

NEWS FROM CROSSROADIA!!!
CORPORATE CONFERENCE CONTINUES!

The Cavernous Convention Centers of the CCCT have been choked full of visitors this week from around the world. The Shroominian delegates have so far stolen the show with their outreach ot other countries as well as Crossroadia. The Lord High CEO Himself made an Appearance to welcome them personally before starting a closed door business discussion.

The Lord HIgh CEO In one of his better Moods

News abounds of more military deals with other Shroomania as well as many other deals with smaller nations. Government Insiders have leaked documents showing the much of the business being discussed seems centered on the purchase of Anti Missile equipment from the large nations as well as Advanced monitoring equipment.


Durring the Conference, INC Airships took the opportunity to reveal it's latest Design. Dubbed "Cloud Cruise" The sleek, whale shaped airship is much smaller then most passenger ships in service, but is built with a much different business purpose.


"Current Airships have never directly competed with modern jetliners for air-service. We survive by offer a service Jets could never truely achieve. People who use jets, do so for pure Speed, People who use our Airships, do so for Safety and Survive. In this vein, our newest airship is built not to go somewhere, but to simply go, A Cruise in the sky where those who enjoy NOT rushing in the fast lane or being caught up in the Rat Race, can further enjoy the experience of seeing the world from the sky." Spoke INC Ariships CEO Hugon Eckernen.

INC Airships have stated production of two prototypes are currently nearing completion and our seeking investors for further development.

[MKSheppard]

Skullcrusher Mountain Bunker Complex, several days later

"You know, Matt, you seem to take delight in inflicting pain on me. For one, you didn't have to order Agent.....Wade here to cut my arm off to fake my death."

"Actually, that was my own idea."

"So you give people like...Wade that much discretion?"

Lonestar shrugged. "If it gets the job done."

"Second, it seems that this...Japanoplasty was much more painful than it should be."

"It cannot be helped; sir. Such a...massive reconstruction of your face is bound to have...side effects." remarked Dr. Vandevender as he examined his handiwork.

"The good doctor here better hope my face doesn't start coming off like Michael Jackson's," warned Sheppard.

"Who?"

"Uh, I mean Michael Shroomson."

"Oh, him. Rest assured I am not that incompetent. Speaking of which, since you've seemed to have healed somewhat nicely since we did the facial operation; it's time for the rest."

"The...rest?"

"Why yes, the skin recoloring and fingerprint replacement process."

Sheppard glared at Lonestar with all the might he could muster.

"One of these days, one of these days..."

[Lonestar]

Virginia Pilot



Big Business, start-ups, head to Crossroadian Trade Fair
The Old Dominion has answered the call for a conference, and many of the titans of Dominionite Industry have departed for what is shaking up to be the largest Trade Fair of the year.

Timothy Roark, Chairman of Roark Instruments will be a speaker at the Dominion Pavilion, a massive rented out conference hall. It is expected that Roark Instruments will announce new iterations of it's successful smartphone series that uses the Mimir "Mandroid" Operating System. Also at the Pavilion are several new DMW models and a tech demonstration of the latest in replacement limbs from InGen.

Also present will be the ubiquitous Dominionite arms industry. Crossroadia is currently overhauling it's armed forces, and several OD Defense firms believe that the mass-licensing for the Neuse River Patrol Frigate has given them a foot in the door. Todd Hatteras Shipyards, for one, will be proposing a replacement for Crossroadia's Clem class carriers based upon the Opechancanough CVS-design.

[Zor]

Union Press

Zoria at the Crossroadian Trade fair

...Many Zorian industrial firms have presented their wares to potential buyers in Crossrodia. Among them are Royal Areospace Research demonstrating the latest in Lightweight Recon UAVs. Legion Motors latest breakthrough in Hydrogen Fuel Cell Technology in the new Kusenagi concept car, alongside a selection of other vehicles for public display. However, Robotnik Industries have among the most impressive display, including the new Hephestus line of Industrial Robots which have been ranked among the highest quality, as well as a variety of marine engineering and domestic servent and assistant robots along with several notable engineering prototypes and a new line of Cybernetic Prosthetics...

[Shinn Langley Soryu]

The Ashford Times

LANGLEY CORPORATISTS MAKE PRESENCE KNOWN AT CROSSROADIAN CORPORATE CONFERENCE
Government and corporate representatives sent to discuss business


FILE PHOTO: Tomoyo Sakagami, president and CEO of Kyoto Aviation and one of several Langley representatives at the conference

CCCT, CROSSROADIA - The Duchy of Langley has joined several other nations from all over the world at the ongoing comprehensive corporate conference being held in the Incorporated Nation of Crossroadia. Representatives of the Duchy's government and of its various corporations have all been sent to meet with their foreign counterparts in discussing the delicate business of commerce.

Among the most notable of the Langley representatives are Secretary of Commerce Nina Purpleton, Izumi Consumer Electronics joint CEOs Aya and Wendee Izumi, Kyoto Aviation CEO Tomoyo Sakagami, Morgenroete CEO Erica Simmons, Nergal Heavy Industries CEO Yurika Misumaru, and Seburo Arms CEO Masanori Ohta. Secretary Purpleton is to discuss trade deals with foreign governments, while the various company reps will be promoting their respective wares to potential customers...

[Lonestar]

Ares Blog

A Giant Nuclear fuel refinery
The ODN has agreed to fund phase II of a study to readily convert seawater into aviation fuel. The Study began under ODARPA auspices 7 years ago, using a variant of a chemical reaction called the Fischer-Tropsch process, which is used commercially to produce a gasoline-like hydrocarbon fuel from syngas, a mixture of carbon monoxide and hydrogen often derived from coal.

The ODN Naval Research Lab believes that when the process is perfected, we could start seeing nuclear-powered logistics ships deploying with battlegroups...[More]

Dominionite defense firms invade Crossroadia
Although Lord Fairfax is sitting out the conference, sending his foreign minister rather than going himself, Dominionite defense firms are pitching their wares to Crossroadia, which is currently undergoing a modernization of it's armed forces.

"It would not be the first time large orders were placed outside of the MESS." Says defense analyst Gregory Piker. "Besides the obvious large license production of the Neuse River class patrol frigates, DominionHawk UAVs, Chesapeake Arms Warrior kits, and EFVs all represent large sales to CATO member states."


Brickhall:"No MBT replacement program for 20 years"
The Old Dominion Ministry of War confirmed today that there are no plans to replace the venerable Leopard 2 for "at least 20 years", meaning some vehicles will be well over 60 years old when finally retired.

The Dominionite Army has suffered serious shrinkage in recent years, and several hundred of the Leopard 2A7s have been relegated to storage facilities throughout the Old Dominion. The ODA is shifting from the large "Garrison" mentality to an expeditionary one, with the ground forces largely becoming lighter and leaner through the use of widespread automation...[More]

[Crossroads Inc.]

The CCCT, "Somewhere" inside, perhaps near the Lobby, it is easy to get lost in the tower after all...


"Well it took a bit, but it seems the convention finally had the desired effect. I've always said, when you need somethings, bring others to you, never go out asking for it, because then people know what you need." A voice spoke up from a darkened, but quite opulent meeting room.

"Quite right Sir, most of the worlds Military Industrial Bigwigs suddenly seem to be falling over themselves offering goods to us, and we haven't 'officaly' asked for anything. Quite effective I'd say." The others around the eight sided table nodded.

"So Let us go over just what we have on the plate at the moment." The first voice said, the others straightening up... "Roark Instruments has quite a few good things to start with, though the ARE from the Dominion, I have an eye to their military drones myself, smaller and cheaper then the automated Airships were using for something currently. " He said, passing out a series of papers, the others looking over them intently. "As for the offers for new Carriers, don't ask me why but ever since that flap when they were first relaunched, the "Clemounen" Carriers have become incredibly popular to the Crossroadian Military as wel las much of the populace, almost as though thumbing their nose at the other big boys." He said, this received a couple of chuckles. "Still, the Patrol Frigates look good too.. Send one of our associates to begin talks on them as well as those drones."

"Aye Sir"

"Next up we have, well quite a bit of Robotic equipment coming from Zoira, though thats hardly a surprise... And new cars from them as well. How exactly are we doing competing with them? They are one of the other chief manufactures of Non combustion cars after all.."

"So far over all sales are good, We naturally keep Crossroadian Autos artificially lowered within the nation to give the edge over others. In the rest of the world both of our major Automative companies are doing quite well for themselves.." A nod greeted this news,

"As far as the Industrial robots go, I don't think we quite need those, but Im curious to see how their personal Robots sell, Keep an eye on the market in the Country and we'll see if we should start working on our line soon."

"Aye Sir"

The tall figure sifted through a pile of other papers..
"Lets see, New goods from The Duchy of Langley, always welcome, Ah here we go. The Fingori have been after us for a while and I think it's time we work things out with them... What is on the table currently?"

"Well Sir, it looks a bit of a swap is on the book,s they are looking to invest in a few of our new "Cloud Cruise" Airships, and a few of their Construction firms are looking to companies purchase licensing agreements to use the some of the Recycling and Processing Tech we developed for the CCCT, on our end; the Power have been after us to build new Reactors for a while and we are most likely going to settle on their , lets see here " Generation IV Fission reactors" for new construction."

"Sounds very good, I'll talk to the President about making the deals official, Get people to them right away and we can hash out any details."
The eight members of the shadowy council stood from their table and made for the door. The first speaker turning around suddenly.

"Oh yes, does anyone know the figures on how many deals everyone down below has been making with any OTHER nation?" The assembled looked at one another.
"I doubt it..."

[Lonestar]

Skullcrusher Mountain Bunker Complex

Sheppard's every pore screamed in agony, although Dr. Vandevender assured him that the pain would diminish in time. He had been summoned(summoned!) to a room for "further processing", whatever the hell that meant. As he entered he was surprised to see the room empty, except for a chair, a white bedsheet hanging on the far wall, and an old film projector. And Agent Wade. Agent Wade was holding a stick of bamboo, and there was a faggot of sticks in the corner.

"Hello Sheppard-san, welcome to the start of your conditioning." The heavy metal door slammed shut, and there was an audible noise as a bolt slid into place. "This will take many, many, many months, but we must ensure that you are a passable Japanistani. Now matter how many friends you have, the IJA leadership will not follow orders from someone who has so clearly been tainted by gaijin ways. Your must have a immense knowledge of history, a reserved demeanor, flawless command of the language-"

"My Japanistani is fi-" Sheppard was interrupted as Wade took two steps forward and slammed his fist into Sheppard's belly, forcing him to double over. Wade spoke in Japanistani.

<You sound like a disgusting foreigner!> Wade circled and whacked his lower back with the bamboo stick. <Stand up! You sound as if you're an animal that has just learned the rudiments of language! Your very voice causes pain to my ears!> Wade was back in front of Sheppard. Sheppard was gasping.

"You can't..." Wade punched him again.

<I don't do well with "can't". Stand up! You will speak to me with respect! You will speak only when directly addressed! You will only speak civilized languages, not those of foreign devils! I said stand up!> Wade lifted Sheppard by the collar and threw him against the wall. <Look at how you cringe! Do you expect anyone to think you were an officer in the IJA? STAND UP!> Sheppard scrambled to his feet. <In the IJA the most minor of transgressions are corrected on the spot with extreme measures. As an officer of the IJA you should be familiar with this. Tell me, Sheppard, you are in charge of an infantry regiment and next week is the Emperor's birthday. What will you schedule be like?>

<uh...> Sheppard's head was swimming. <I...a parade in the local prefecture followed by the day off-> Wade hit him twice with the teaching stick, then kicked him against the wall.

<Stand up! It is clear that you know nothing! This is not some foreign holiday, these are holy days where we strive to redouble our efforts for the Chrysanthemum Throne!> Wade shook his head. He lifted Sheppard and forced him into the chair, and started zip-tying him to it. An apparatus appeared from one of the numerous pockets on his portion, which he strapped to Sheppard's head. His eyes were stretched open. Two small aerosol nozzles were directly above his eyes. <Your lack of understanding shames you. Fortunately, it was not unanticipated. We have several, dozen, training films to go through. The apparatus is needed to ensure that you, as a layabout foreigner, do not take the opportunity to nap during training. We shall begin.>

[Siege]

NFT delegation arrives in Crossroadia



Helena Skye arrives in Crossroadia

The Trust delegation to the Crossroadian corporate conference has arrived on the island-nation. Lead by Helena Skye, director of DEPICOR for the Board of Directors of San Dorado, the delegation consists of representatives from the Syndicate and the union's largest industries. The CEOs of Ralson Concerns Ltd., high-tech firm Integral Dynamic and SinTEK are expected to speak at the NFT pavillion about the advantages of cooperation between industries within the CATO economic sphere.

[Fingolfin_Noldor]

Constantinople Times

Combined UCSR and Byzantine Business delegation arrives in Crossroadia

A combined UCSR and Byzantine delegation arrived in Crossroadia to participate in the corporate conference. Consisting of officials from the respective Foreign and defence and Trade and Industry and Science Ministries, along with a business delegation from many major corporations from both countries and a team of officials from the various research institutes. They will meet with various Crossroadian officials, and will likely work with their Shroomanian counterparts in winning joint business deals, and discuss possible research collaborations.

Senate passes law indicating increasing the composition of biofuel in normal fuel to 40%

To reduce the consumption of hydrocarbon fuels, the Senate has passed a law legislating that all hydrocarbon fuels shall have a 40% biofuel component. Algae biofuel production has risen substantially over the last few years, topping off at over one million barrels per day recently and still increasing. The Senate has also directed funding towards other alternative fuels such as Syngas, which will be conducted under the auspices of the Alternative Energy Institute and its affiliates.

[PeZook]

PeZookian Economic Monthly: Crossroadian Special Report

With the Crossroadian defence and industry trade fair in full swing, the Economic Monthly presents a quick summary of PeZookian and other CATO companies which decided to participate, presenting their products and plans for the future.

Beginning with the ever-popular defence industry, two biggest PeZookian defence firms made their pitch, beginning with Łucznik, and the succesful LOARA-II anti-aircraft system:


LOARA-II during CATO "Syria 2016" excercises

The LOARA-II is a modern SHORADs vehicle and an important part of the Continental Integrated Air Defence System. It protects missile batteries, radars, fire control centres and other components of the system from low-flying threats such as helicopters, strike aircraft and cruise missiles.

An upgrade of the earlier LOARA-I, the system is mounted on a Leopard-2 chassis. It is equipped with two 35mm cannons and can mount a wide variety of short-range AA missiles. Its state-of-the-art Byzantine fire control system is capable of independently acquiring, tracking and engaging targets in all weather conditions, using a variety of sensors, including an onboard ESA radar, LIDAR and IR suite.

For survivability, the vehicle is equipped with a KOMAR active anti-missile defence suite, smoke launchers and layered composite armor developed in conjunction with Koltos Munitions.

Mielec, a government-owned aircraft factory presents a series of UAV and UCAV drones, as well as pitching the CF-01 series of stealth fighters it produces jointly with other CATO companies.


OSA, a hunter-killer helicopter drone

Capable of fully autonomous operation, the OSA HK drone is a nimble aerial vehicle, which can be operated with the minimal amount of additional equipment.

It carries a machine gun, small rocket pod and laser indicator. The operator uses an interface developed with off-the-shelf technology, and similar to the Degenatron console. Thanks to its high maneuverability and large degree of automation, it can be flown easily and with minimal training, allowing it to be operated even by small units, such as an infantry platoon.


CF-01: the world's premiere air superiority fighter

In accordance with sub-contracts from CSR and Byzantine air defence firms, Mielec also produces components and airframe moulds for the CF-01, a state-of-the art CATO air defence fighter. Hundreds of the planes are already in service in numerous countries.

In addition to defence, the Crossroadians will see exhibits of other industrial corporations, such as KGHiM, producers of engine bells for the Saturn III and Saturn V and Vulkan rocket series.


F-1 engine bell by KHGiM

Only a few companies in the world produce metal casts at such a large scale.

Sawa Maritime Engineering corporation is another world renowned company, known mostly for their work on Miratian and Katangwan infrastructure. The company specializes in various maritime engineering, including oil rigs, ports, undersea cabling and deep sea construction.

This is just a short overwiev of the wide array of products and services available from PeZookia and other CATO nations.

This article was sponsored by the PeZookian government

[Lonestar]

Ares Blog

INTERNAL LOOK begins in Tian Jiao



The ODN warship Elizabeth City began air defense operations, while an airborne regiment and a Air Defense Battalion were flown in for the Tian Xia-Old Dominion INTERNAL LOOK exercise.

According to the spokespeople, the purpose of the exercise is to practice a rapid deployment in the event of an attack on Tian Jiao by Miratia an enemy attacking from the North.

[MKSheppard]

Hiroshima Naval Base, Japanistan

Everyone on the beaches stood and watched the massive grey painted objects pass across the horizon. These were HIMJS Sagami; the flagship of the Imperial Navy; along with her sister ships HIMJS Awa and Mutsu. Each was 1,246 feet long and displaced nearly 450,000 tons fully loaded.

Top speed was only 21 knots, but that was more than sufficient. Armament was a closely held state secret.


Sketch of the ships' appearance by Shroom's Fighting Ships while under Construction from spies.

At the same time, from the nearby No.41 Army Base; dozens of Ki-900 Cherry Smasher missiles streaked skywards.


Secret photograph of Ki-900 taken by spies

Little was known of them, except for rumors that Japanistan had stockpiled over 150,000 of them for use in wartime.

[MKSheppard]

Motorbike World

After a prolonged absence from the world market, the boys at Shroombitsui have unleashed their latest broadside in their war against MacMillian for dominance of the world superbike market.



The SAMURAI SUICIDEMOBILE is equipped with a Shroom-Royce Model 250 turboshaft engine producing 320 hp, and has a recorded top speed of 227 MPH.

By contrast, the MacMILLIAN ORGAN DONATOR has a mere 200 hp opposed piston engine which weighs much more, limiting it's acceleration.

As a side bonus, this new bike comes FREE with an Organ Donation Card!

[PeZook]

Gagarinski Rocket Test Range, somewhere in Siberia

"Mary mother of God!", Józef Mleczko exclaimed upon exiting the small shuttle bus and gazing up at the massive rocket.

Siergyei Korolevski smiled, "Yes...", he said with no small amount of satisfaction.

"Will it even fly? It seems this thing pretty much reaches the limit of what you can do without nuclear drives..."

"Oh, we are quite certain of that. We do expect problems, of course, probably with the fuel pumps and weight distribution, but that's what the test is for, isn't it?"

Mleczko, the chief designer in KGHiM's rocket division, stood in awe, staring at the gigantic cluster of rocket boosters making up the first stage of the Vulkan-II. His team designed and fabricated their airframes and engine nozzles, but it was still an amazing sight.

"When does it launch?"

Korolevski looked at his watch, "If the weather is fine, six hours."

"I can't miss it. Damn!"

Result: Vulkan-II goes into test phase.

[Shroom Man 777]

MUSHROOM MOTORBIKE MEGA-MENAGERIE

MacMillan has unveiled a new product to stab the Shroombitsu slowpokes in the dick, escalating from a 'war of dominance' in the 'superbike market' to global annihilation with what the MacMillan Mach maniacs have called a 'super-duper-bike'.



Making the Samurai Suicidemobile eat its proverbial dust is MacMillan's latest, biggest and baddest super-duper-bike - the HYPERTHYROID STORM XLK.



With a fuselage almost made entirely out of engine, the HYPERTHYROID STORM XLK is less like riding a motorcycle and more like riding a rocket engine with wheels. The HYPERTHYROID STORM XLK has no electronic speed restrictions and its top speed has been rated as three hundred miles per hour, that's 300 MPH.



While the precise technology regarding the HYPERTHYROID STORM XLK's engine has not been released, MacMillan borderline bike boys have confirmed that the HYPERTHYROID STORM XLK does - in fact - boast an AFTERBURNER CAPABILITY.

To match the 'Suicidemobile's' offer, the HYPERTHYROID STORM XLK also comes with a organ harvest coupon - for absolutely free!