NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is Kajiraki...Im holding down the Imitora fort till hes outa the hospital. He wanted me to get an RP started based around the changes in Imitora that he was gonna bring about.

IC:

The dark clouds continued to roll through the skies over the island nation. They had been there since the end of the war, since the reconstruction and industrialization. The air was so acrid, it was all but imposible to live towards the inland, and 90% of the cities were located on the coast.

No longer spread out urban utopias, the cities were now vertical sprawling masses, with multileveled highways running through the open space, suprisingliy uncrowded. The government had disbanded the liberal doctorine of mass transit and public transportation. If you couldn't afford a car, you didn't deserve to be on the road.

That was the new way of thinking. If you counldn't afford, you don't deserve. And it was a good way to think. It wasn't the government's job to provide for the poor, after all, no one had provided for them.

In New Auzden, the new capital of Imitora after Ausden had been destroyed, the citizens lived happily. The city was imense, had could be compared to the famed Neo Tokyo portrayed in countless cartoons and stories.

Times were good. While Actual Crime was up, Real Crime was at an all time low. Any government project that needing funding got the money it needed, and the populace was happy. But there was one angry 'person' still around.

The actual acting government had been disbanded, and replaced by a computer. The AI system wasn't exactly what you call sentinent, as it did not know it existed, and therefore it was not monitered and prhibited from holding government position like self aware AI. All it did was anylyze data comming in, and process it, in turn providing a logical response to a stimuli.

And in this situation, the Ormsby Program had found a stimuli. A young Imitoran female known as Lt. Christin Marie Chaffin, age 26. She was now a registered Iansislanian citizen, as well as a Deazemani citizen. This was not allowed in the new government.

The problem ran through the computer, and within a matter of seconds, a solution was created. Remove her Imitoran citizenship status. And within seconds, it was done.

However, it left room for another problem. There was now a one Christin Marie Chaffin, Iansilanian/Deazemani citizen, age 26, who had stolen esential Imitoran Military equipment that was under testing. So, the new problem was the existance of a counter intelligence agent from Deazeman, now residing in Iansisle, who was under the possestion of Imitoran Military Hardware.

A new stimuli, a new response. The retrieval of said goods, and the elimination of said counter agent. It was rather simple.
----
The man, tired from yet another late night of work, rolled over, and grabbed the PDA sized object. He pressed his thumb against the small pad attached at teh bottom of the PDA, and looked over the words scrolling across the screen.

He was to retreive a military project, a fighter to be more exact, and eliminate a Deazemani counter intell agent. No biggy, he had done it before. A flight had been booked from NAI to Iansisle, and he would depart pending the acceptance of his cover story.

Jax Evans rolled out of bed, and procedded to get dressed.
----
The 6 inch by 6 inch plastic screen was placed in a rather elegant looking envelope, and overnited to Iansisle, adressed to the propper head of state that would recieve it and approvie it. At the top of the screen was a barcode, and underneath was the printed request.

*To Whom This May Concern, Respectfully,

It is the wish of the Imitoran Government that friendly, peaceful diplomatic relations between our two nations be re-opened. An ambasador is in route pending acceptance of this offer. Mike Evans will arrive approxamately 5 hours after notification of your acceptance. Respectfully.

Speaker Marisa Powell*

(oh...oh, dear, this doesn't sound one little bit of good! heh)

Ballard Military Aerodock
Outside Lakeriverwood, Gadsan, the Commonwealth

'The Contraption,' as everyone called the device which the Duchess Chaffin had flown to escape Imitora, sat in a dingy hanger on the outskirts of a fairly minor Royal Iansislean Flying Corps base. After it had arrived on the Shield, there had been a great fuss raised. It was shipped from Shadoran International outside Ianapalis to the home of Graye Aeroflyers, where the military experts of the company had generally poked and pried it to try and deduce military secrets to help in their campaign against the Hun.

The results had been general failure. The Contraption now sat in various parts, it's technology too advanced for even Graye's top scientists. Someday, it would be remembered and may serve some useful purpose. For now, however, it sat in Lakeriverwood, forgotten by everyone from Air Marshall Bates downward, with the exception of a janitor who peaked in every now and then to make sure it was still there.

#2 Jameston Place
Ianapalis, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

The envelope already had the stamp of the Foreign Affairs Ministry on its front when it found its way to Prime Minister D'Carlonia's desk. He reopened the seal quickly and dumped the contents out. Most curious...at least the note was clear enough.

Iansisle and Imitora had once been the closest of allies, but growing instability and military obsession in Imitora had led to the Razing of Daezeman and Imitora's expulsion from the New Highlands Alliance. The Iansislean populace, who had held Daezeman as a perfect, magical utopia, had never forgiven nor forgotten, and the word 'Imitora' was still enough to raise a growl in any pub in the Commonwealth.

Still, with the High King getting ready to marry a former Imitoran military officer - and one of the only two people left in the world that held a Daezemani citizenship - reopening relations may be in everyone's best interest. Readying his Walmingtonish fountain pen, D'Carlonia scribbled out a reply.

Speaker Powell,

It would give me nothing but the greatest pleasure to reopen contact with Imitora. Our countries were once inseperable; surely, there must be a way to return to such times.

However, the populace of the Shield has never forgiven Imitora for what it did to Daezeman. Meeting in Iansisle may not be the best of ideas. Instead, I wonder if I could propose a third sight for the conference, so as not to incite our population to riot or worse.

In order to reopen friendly relations with Iansisle, it will be needed to reopen friendly relations with the entire Alliance of the New Highlands. I propose that we meet with a representitive of every Alliance member in one of their states, such as Larkinia, Agrigento, Celeborne, or Walmington on Sea. Thank you for understanding.

Respectfully yours,

A. D'Carlonia
Prime Minister, C.C.P.

(Ahem.. erm.. tag! [/great contribution])

(Well, we already used your fountain pen...how much more can you be expected to contribute, really? ;))

(Quite, quite! I am exhausted! I have a headache! Not to-night! Erm, by which I mean that I like the picture painted of the new Imitora.. not like so much as despise with every measure of my conscience, but that's a good thing, in a round-about way. Isn't it?)

(Sprawling upward like Neo Tokyo? Finally Imitora is starting to look more like Larkinia :P I hope he keeps getting better! I'll work on an IC response in a bit.)

That reminds me, actually, is there anyone who wants to volunteer as the ANH state hosting what D'Carlonia has in mind? The only reason he wants to get it out of Ianapalis is he knows there'll be an attempt or two at a lynching after IanCorp leaks the fact Iansisle is reopening relations with Imitora and their ambassador is on the Shield :P

(I'll do it)

(ah, thanks man. I hate to shaft the hosting job off on you, but, well, the Shield isn't the best place for anyone with an Imitoran background (unless she aslo happens to be engaged to the High King, which I doubt Mr. Evans is ;))

OOC: well, ever since hes been in the hospital, Imitora's been listening to a lot of TCM and Offspring, so he mixed the two together to get this new world...He wants me to mention that Jaxis based of that guy in those Nokia or Cingular anime commercials.

IC

The punch flew out towards the intended target, and connected, sending the man back a good five feet, his face a bloddy mess. The attacker came back up with a kinfe and lunged, but soon found teh knife in his back. The quikness of the defender suprised the last surviving attacker, who was just now rising from a rather nasty throw. He looked at Jax, and tried to turn and run, but the five rounds that hit him in hte back, all within a quarter inch group, dropped him.

The style of fighting was a good mix of Judo and Jujitsu, with a heatly helping of Akido, and some Krav Maga tossed in. All part of the program the new IIA had developed to bring about top of the line agents. And the shooting, well, Jax had always been one hell of a shot.

The ring awoke him, and he snapped out of the fantasy world as the targets disappeared into the ground or the walls. Virtual reality was one hell of a training tool. He placed the fake gun, a locally produced version of a small Glock, on the table next to him. It wasnt the standard service issue, but he coulnd't manage to sneak a training gun out of the 'Tiki Room' as it was called, and the Glock was about the same size and weight of his standard M25 .40 sidearm.

He looked over to the PDA/Cell Phone/Whatever he needed it for, and looked at teh on screen message. Expanium was a go. He needed a suit.
---
The Ormsby Program looked over the response, and found it unacceptable. However, it was not sentintnent, but it was also not stupid. It knew that forcing a meeting in Iansisle would seem suspicious, and therefore was not logical. Logice did rule the world.

The computer formulated a response to the ambasador, and a comunique was soon sent to Iansisle.

*PM A. D'Calonia

I understand your hesitation to hold the meeting in your own home land. Please alert us to the location which the meeting will take place, and our ambasador will be dispatched properly. With Regards

Speaker Marisa Powell*

The few simple words had already thrown Iansisle's fairly new liberal government into disarray. Sir Archibald S. Hughes, Iansisle's new Minister of Foreign Affairs, was often seen burning late oil with Mr. Edwards, sorting out the various scabble of information Iansisle had about Imitora's present activities.

By the time Speaker Powell's letter arrived, he already had a ready response: contact with the Larkinian MoFA had pointed in Golden Agate's direction as a country to host any talks between the Alliance and Imitora. Hughes wrote back as such, not minding signing D'Carlonia's name to the letter, and let all the Alliance nations know what was happening.

The Iansislean delegation, it was decided, would consist of no less than Ambassador (first class) Quincy Johnson, the MoFA's man-at-large, and the Lord Laughlin, Iansisle's ambassador to the ANH.

Larkinian Presidential Palace, Golden Agate, early morning

Javin rolled out of bed slowly once the cell phone started ringing. He looked in the room with his blurry vision.

"Yeah yeah... a sec... HANG ON!" he barked at the inanimate object.

One of the other figures in the bed rolled over and murmured something and she smiled.

"Just a second," Javin smiled back. He walked out into the living room and picked up the phone on the fifth... eighth... 13th ring, hell he didn't know.

"Yeah," He said quietly, "Minister Davis, what can I do for you? ... Mmmm hmmmm... Yeah, the Imitorans were great the last time I worked with the special forces unit.... really? the Iansislians are going for it? ... Well at least part of the government is. Ok, I'll get something together for when they get here. ... That soon huh? Ok."

He hung up and walked back into the bedroom, "Jav?" another woman asked, "Is everything all right?"

Javin looked back and grinned at the De La Rosa twins, "Come on, get up you two. We have to be out of here in... oh we have another 45 minutes at least..."

tag

Javin Katana sounds like just the sort of guy we love here in Iansisle ;) Is an Iansislean delegation on the way over to the Larkinian embassy? Sorry if I misinterperted that part (or hideously slaughtered any spellings in this paragraph)

D.K., I'm working on that next post in the Dead Man's Chest right now...I hope you don't mind, but I've decided to throw a, er, plot twist in ;)

No worries, I figured y'all would get there when you wanted to. You can send them over anytime

All right - it may not be tonight. I think I want to finish this post I'm working on for the Dead Man's Chest, then ship off to bed. I assume it's all right with all parties if this's on hold until the morrow?

Yeah, no need to rush anything. I'd personally rather have you take your time and it be good than to force. Great story here, by the way.

Oh, don't worry...I've been working on it on-and-off for about three hours now (which has only resulted in some 350 words, heh....my 1.5 word/minute rate should increase now). I want to have it up in the next twenty minutes, but not at the expense of quality.

Through Iansisle Great Walmington caught word of more or less what was afoot, so far as it was understood. Sir Talfryn Cheeseman made a funny squeaking sound no one else could quite make out, but to him it meant that if we've heard about it through the Ians it is probably half way finished already, and by the time Walmington makes a move the affair shall be done and dusted.

This time any attempt at haste would be further delayed by the decision to actually lay on security. Walmingtonian diplomats rarely liked to carry any show of force on a mission, but the word "Imitora" put the fear of God into most of his majesty's subjects.

Sir Talfryn was noticibly nervous about being assigned armed guards and made a point of chatting to each of them, listening for Newrian-Irish accents as he did.

When he did finally depart, Cheeseman's Acorn transport aircraft would be shadowed by a similar vehicle carrying Special Operations Wing commandos, and flanked by two of WoS's four airworthy Jet Fighter Mark I Crickets.

What with the weight of eight burley (by WoS standards) and laden commandos crammed into a rickety wood and linen plane meant for training more than anything else, and with two pilots flying aircraft most famous for shaking and spinning at high speed it was fair to say that the delegation was a little on edge.

(Holy run-on sentences! I think we really ought to at least make a showing, though I can't stick around right now..9.30? Ahh! [pretends to have somewhere important to be ;) ])

Golden Agate International Airfield

"Sir," one of the flight coordinators said, "We've got something approaching. Looks like four planes of some sort entering our airspace. From the speed.. maybe I'm wrong, it could just be a group of seagulls... No... it's four planes of some kind."

The master flight controller walked over, "Are they moving fairly slowly? It could be the Iansislians, and their rubber-band-powered planes. Remember we got that memo saying they'd be en route."

"Maybe sir, but the Ambassador would have given us a heads up," the first man said. "They are moving at a pace to set grass growing to shame for speeding though..." (:P)

"Well keep an eye on them. Let me know if they make radio contact."

The master flight controller walked over, "Are they moving fairly slowly? It could be the Iansislians, and their rubber-band-powered planes.

Iansislean rubber makers are very offended! :P

"Our rubber could power a plane much faster than any Walmy-Ceylobian junk!"
-P. Brookings, East Gallaga Company (Rubber Division)

"Our utmost apologies sir, our master flight controller will be flogged immediately, as is Iansislian custom. :P"

-- unnammed source

"We don't know where that unnamed source came from, but rest assured we will deal with him... or her.. in short order..."

--Another unnamed source

"Humph. See to it...er, both of it. In the meantime, can I interest you in some top-quality rubber from East Gallaga or Borneo?"
-P. Brookings

EDIT: "It's natural, at that!"

OMG funny.
Nice twist in the Dead Man's Chest thread, btw. This is gonna get interesting...

It's a good thing the fighter pilots aren't privy to this little exchange or they might be honour bound to go into a supersonic dive over Larkinia (an action that over Norbray lead to the slight destruction of the sixth prototype and killing of its pilot)!
At least we should challenge the Ians to some sort of race.. around the world! We'll meet at Trafalgar Square at noon to-morrow, the Queen herself (or King himself, depending on whose timeline we're using :? ) shall drop the flag!
(And don't think we're letting you cross Africa without an unfortunate customs delay! [hurridly annexes..the middle bit])

As the quartet of Walmingtonian aircraft neared Larkinian airspace efforts were made to contact the authorities to announce Sir Talfryn Cheeseman's approach.

If the aircraft were somewhat limited, Walmingtonian communications equipment was thought exceptionally good, and the flight crews believed they would probably be giving the Larkinians something of a surprise. After all, they hadn't really "called ahead" for fear of interception by Ercolanan or even German long-range fighters. Sir Talfryn was probably one of the characters most likely to steal sleep from the likes of Hitler and Russolini!

Jax pulled the slide back on the handgun, chambering the round, and emptied the magazine of .40 JHP down range. All 20 rounds hit dead center, 10 in the chest, 10 in the head of the paper target. "Remind me never to get into a shooting match with you," a voice came from behind, a hand resting on his shoulder.

Joe Bertapelle was the lead scientist and enginer in the 'Tiki Room' as it was called. the 'Tiki Room' is where the IIA kept all its goodies and toys and tested them. A good 90% of which Bertapelle had thought up. It was only natural that he was in charge of teh Tiki Room, after all, waht else is their to do for a man who was the reason that Imitoran colleges had adapted a system in which the max GPA was increased from 4.0 to 6.0.

Jax turned and looked at Joe. "Remind me to never challenge to a math contest," he replied, holstering the side arm. Joe pulled him away, leadign him over to the pile of goodies that Jax would be taking with him. He first held up teh watch, the number one toy of the secret agent.

"Standard cutting laser, garrot wire, stun unit, compressed air cartridge, and detonater. However, we've moved away from Tag and to Omega. No big deal, just a bit more stylish."

Jax looked at the watch. "Sure it can do all that, but can it tell time?"

"We haven't quite figured that part out yet," Joe laughed. "Let me show you what else we have for you." He procedded to pull a very expensive looking black suit out of a bag, as well as a mtching great coat. "Standard IR reducer, but, it has more. The suit alone has a micro carbon kevlar weave that can stop a 7.62mm NATO round dead in its tracks. When combined with the great coat, which has the same heavy weave, it can stop a .50 round."

Jax looked at the combanation skeptically.

"I said it would stop teh round, never said it wouldnt hurt. Last but not least, we have this,' he said, handing him a small pearl braclet. Jax looked at it with a small level of confusion. "Well, when you get lonely, you need somethign to wear on your wrist to make it feel like a woman. Now, on to your car."

Jax dropped the bracelet, and looked at Joe. "Now what did you do to my Lexy?"

Joe lead Jax to the candy apple red 2004 IS300 sitting in the garage area. "Well, it already had enough on from all the last few times we've played with it, so we just added some minor upgrades. New headers, better turbocharager, stronger intake, the usual."

Jax looked at teh red Lexus. It was his baby. And Joe was right, there already was quite enough on it ahas there was. The car was equiped with the basics; low profile reinflatable tires on 18 inch alloy wheels (Enkei RS6s, to be exact), bullet proof glass that seemed a bit to dark, 5.56mm machine guns behind each headlight, and a keyless entrey system. On the next level, it had an ECM suite that most intelligence agencies reserved for a single aircraft. SmartSkin was laid over the red paint job, nothing is cooler than a car that can literaly fade into the night. There was also an explanation for teh heavy dark glass. When the car was off, it worked like a one way mirror, but when the car was turned on, thats when the magic happened.

The glass went black on the inside, and a exact photo image of the road was projected onto the Plasma screen embedded in the glass. This not only allowed for an image even cleare than the human eye could see, but also for a night vission, infared, or thermal image to be displayed while driving. The all around mounting of the system permited the best veiw for just about any car.

"When do I leave?" Jax asked, looking at his Lexus.
"Two hours, your car wil be loaded, government 777. You'll be briefed further on the way over. Have fun."

"Will do," Jax said, approaching the red IS, sliding into the drivers seat.

(bumporz...lark, I couldn't decide: is my group heading for the Larkinian embassy with the intention of taking Javin to the aerodock, or asking his opinion on matters?)

(Well, depends on how bad you want to throw Javin out of Iansisle ;) )

(terribly bad :P

Sorry if I seem in a bad mood...I was just watching a case of newbie hazing over in I.I., and it rather steamed my potatoes.)

(no worries, you go get em! Let me know if you want help, remember my first post ever involved a nuclear terrorism attack on Golden Agate... Geez what a n00b I musta been... and a horrible RPer as you can attest to... ;))

(it's too bad that got deleted...I'd've liked to read it (almost as much as I like to double-contract). And I never thought you were a bad roleplayer...I was always kind of worried that I might be throwing you off, since I had zero experiance in RP before I came to this site ;)

So, right, I suppose an IC post might be appreciated right now :P)

When Larkinia had approached Iansislean construction authorities about building an embassy in Iansisle, they had instantly been granted a plot on the corner of Empire and Sarawak, sandwiched in between IanCorps' International Tower, Jameston Place, and the Admiralty Building. Now, a convoy headed by none other than Quincy Johnson, Ambassador First Class, himself approached the embassy building.

He waved away the excessive saluting exhibited by guards on both sides, and turned to whoever might be in charge.

"Is Mr. Katana ready yet? I'd hate to delay the flight out of Shadoran International."

(Yeah, I know, it was a nice one. Hell, you coulda had me fooled about the RPing experience or lack thereof! Oh yeah... a IC post)

15 miinutes before

Javin rolled out of bed in the embassy, half-awake as he heard someone knocking at the door. He looked at the clock and nudged... who in the hell was this anyway.. in the bed.

"Come on baby, we've gotta get ready to go."

He opened the door and saw two guards standing there.

"Sir, the Iansislian delegation will be here shortly, I'd suggest a quick shower and coffee before you go. I'll take care of your... date, from last night."

"Thanks Pete, I owe ya."

"Yes sir, you do," the guard grinned as he escorted the young lady who had quickly dressed out to a waiting car.

.....

Javin walked out of the embassy in a black pinstriped suit and sunglasses, suitcase in one hand, briefcase in the other.

"Well, are we all ready to go?"

(aw, thanks. I'll blame it on your good mentoring :P)

"Ah, young Mr. Katana," smiled Johnson, crossing to him quickly and shaking hands. "I'm so glad you could join us...I've had the Ministry give us a Westerton touring car, though I'm afraid we are late.

The new model Jackrabbit Mk.V sat belching smoke on the corner, and a mild-looking driver held the door open.

"Now, I'm aware that Larkinia and Imitora were always closer than Iansisle and Imitora," said Johnson without ceremony. "Which is why I'm asking you: do you have any idea what they're up to? Sorry if I seem brisk, but the Ministry has nothing to work on but a pair of hundred-word notes."

(LOL, thanks.. um... I think :P)

Javin sat back and looked out the window a moment. "I'd served with their special forces, trained there a while. The thing to remember when dealing with a government like that, things are never what they seem. Remember to look for the hidden purpose in things from a meeting to a statement to even what they're wearing.

"As to what they are up to? Probably mayhem and mischief of some sort..."

"Hmph." Johnson grunted and shook his head. "I've never trusted Imitorans, and I never will (ooc: I could never forgive them for the death of my boy :P). When I think about what they..." He shook his head again, harder this time. "I'm sorry; forgive me the trespasses of a bigoted old man."

For a moment, Johnson gazed out his own window as Empire Street rolled by. "Believe me, Mr. Katana, I intend to watch their every move. The Empire of the Shield will not become a second Daezeman, not so long as I watch out for it."

(pshew...I think I need to shuffle off to bed. The Undiscovered Country reference really zapped me ;))

'I understand, and you can rest assured that Larkinia will not allow that to happen," Javin said. "They are an interesting bunch, but when crossed, they tend to strike back."

Teh 777 left New Dellas International towards Larkinia. IT was empty save Jax, now Max, Evans, and his Lexus in the cargo bay. He wore a basic suit a sipped a martini. He read over his briefing, and studied his options. The idea was, since the meeting would not take place in Imitora, to wait on the good Lieutenant, and just get back whatever she had left with. He looked over the PDA/Cell Phone/$1,000 papper weight, and then leaned back in his seat, dozing off.
-----
Speaker Marisa Powell was also looking over a similar brief, downloaded to her similar PDA set up. She looked over the paramiters of her end of the mission, and memorized them. Names, faces, occupations, the list.

It was intresting that the plan would take as long as it would. The old Imitora protacol of 'Smash and Grab' was out, and the new MOS was to slowly chip away at the problem, and use Green Cell of the IIA when needed.

Green Cell was the new overt operations unit, well, as far overt as imitating terrorist groups and rouge nations' militaries was. There was Red Cell, who were used to economically destroy an enemy, and Gold Cell, who gathered intel. Orange Cell was the technological devision, owners of the 'Tiki Room', and then there was Black Cell. Black Cell, whom Jax Evans was a member of, was the main operations unit. They did the nasty stuff.
-----
The 777 was on its final approach when Jax's eyes popped open. He looked out the window through the approach, and stretched his legs out. He shook his head a few times, and brushed off his suit. Here goes nothing, he thought, quietly.