NationStates Jolt Archive

Northern Islandia

A breeze blew over the lagoon, as the sun rose quietly. Offshore, three Sea Tiger class war junks were anchored, their gun ports closed and most of the men aboard the ships asleep, with only the sailors on watch to scrutinize the horizon.

In the lagoon, a detachment of Islandian Marines quietly made their rounds, painted from head to toe in camouflage paint and sheathed in form-fitting, spidersteel armor, some armed with special crossbows and swords, but most with rifles. They did their best not to disturb any allies-or enemies that could be hiding in the bushes.

On the lagoon, the land part at least, was a relatively well hidden fortress made of gray stone. Its front was fairly well covered with a sand rampart that, for the most part, seemed to be a beach. most of the outpost seemed to be jsut that; a beach. In fact, it was only when one moved to the higher regions of land in the lagoon that one could see the large, gray-green observation towers, replete with cannons and rockets. The rest of the fortress was also quite heavily armed with similar sorts of weaponry; it was, after all, a restive region, and despite their similarities, Northern and Eastern Islandians were not friends.

Aboard the Dragon Dawn, a sentry began to shout as a ship (or ships) approached the outpost. soon, the entire lagoon was up and running....

Anyone is welcome... you may imperialize, colonize, explore... but depends where you go.

Tropical Paradise, unfortunately, does not have a map, so you may have to bear with me.

Agrigento, the neighbor of mine, is a small, boot-shaped country in the region (yes, think Italy). my nation is a big cluster of islands, but in between the places that the two of us own, there is quite some room for others to settle. The time is sometime in the 1750s, and anyone is open to come in. However, be warned that the lagoon i just mentioned is the gateway to tropical paradise for the most part; you need to pass through there if you're comin fromt he west....

"Sir," a very raggady looking man said, running up to another raggady, yet, less raggady, man, "shall we raise teh flag?"

The other man, the captain of the small ship, about the size of a light frigate, looked at his first mate. "Are, are, are you an idiot?" he demanded, with a serries of overly done hand gestures, "yes, lets raise teh skull and cross bones on our piddly little ship here in front of the East Islandian Armada. You bloody twit I should smack you for that." He spun, his great coat, a dark crimson, spun with him.

He looked out, through two good eyes, and simply nodded. "No. Raise a flag of peace, or something. We'll set in port, get some rum," he paused, a glisten in his eye, "some better weapons, and then set out again. No, the Imitoran Pirate Robert Hawk shall not strike today," he said, watching his men bring in the main sail. Imitora was known as the current haven for pirates and other brigands, and he was one of them. A large man with a Caribian accent orderd the crew about. His deep voice boomed over teh sound of the splashing ocean. They were pulling into port.

OOC: I've been watching Fear and Loathing and Pirates of the Carabian far too much lately, so yes, Robert Hawk is very much based on Jack Sparrow.

Banner Lieutenant Wei yawned, rubbing his eyes and looking outside.

"THey woke us up jsut for that?" he asked, shocked.

"You know our credo," his comrade next to him said. "Always ready, always brave, and-"

"Always awake," Wei grumbled, buckling on a oxtail broadsword and shoving a pair of pistols into his belt. He stumbled out the door, followed closely by his friend.

Down at the docks by the lagoon, various Islandian Marines and sailors sat, chatting and eating with the Imitorans. Plates of fried squid, fresh fruit, orange-braised tropical fish, and even a roasted boar was evident.

"It's time to arise anyway," Wei's friend, Dragon Lieutenant Shuang, retorted. "Physical training is soon, so dont gorge yourselves."

"Not us," Wei reminded him. "We're off today."

"PHysical training is off for no one, fool!" Shuang roared. "Except for Hu Detachment, since they're always up all night doing God knows what."

"Keeping your snoring asses safe?" Sgt. Suo asked from a nearby table. A stately, comely girl of twenty three, she was a bit too young (and, Wei thought, too beautiful) to be posted on a frontier assignment. "Join me, wont you?"

Nearby, various kegs of alcoholic beverages were doled out. Rum, a fiery Western drink, was kept in the base, but forbidden from the Islandian soldiers; instead, most of them drank a bluish, native liquer called miu-shui, or flower water, a sweet, spicy substance that kept one on their toes.

The harbor was empty that day; traffic had been quiet, and there had not really been much to do for off-duty soldiers except fish, eat, spar, and possibly copulate with some of their prettier female counterparts, although that was strictly forbidden. Nonetheless, rules were relaxed on an outpost, and although any inner posting would never have had soldiers fraternizing with civilians, these Marines and sailors tended to their guests with gusto, refilling their plates quickly and charging them little for the food, which was abundant throughout nearly all of tropical paradise.

Hawk used a knife to cut a piece of meat from the roasting pig, listening to the men share stories. His only fear is that one of his men, none of them that bright, would reveal the true nature of teh group. Upon hearing one of the Islandian Marines ask the occupation of the group, he took this moment to answer.

He lept forward into an opening on the sand, his hands waving about in the air. "Me, and my fine, fine men here are but simple adventurers. We've explored the world, setting sail in great adventures in the open blue expanse of the ocean, crossing blades with some of the less than honorable types of the Indian coast, explored many a land, and otherwise been scoundlery rascals, of a good humored nature."

He spun around, and took a long pull from the mug that held the rum. He then pulled a drink from a mug in his othe hand, holding the blue liquid that the Islandians drank. He placed both cups down, and began to fight an imaginary opponent with an air sword. "We fight for a good cause, that being teh cause that has more gold," he thrust hard into the 'oponent' then spun, blocking a thrust and returning the stab. He then 'sheathed' the 'sword, and turned back to the group. His right hand fell on the rapier at his hip. "I am Robert Hawk, and these are my loyal men."

He sat down amidst the claps of his men, and some of the Marines, and turned to the young lady sitting off to the side. He walked up to her with his overly done walk, and bowed deeply. "May I ask what a fair young maiden as yourself is doing here?"

"Avast, and look alive!" The commander of the ISSTC (Imperial South-Seas Trading Coster) Sanctity called out to his men. They were fresh from the bustling sea-port of Port Agua, heading on a bearing south-east to trade with the friendly natives of the Moonrise Isles.

It was the year 1751, the 5th year of the reign of Wilhelm Drakharn, by the grace of God Kaiser of Novar Ohan. No one on board knew that he would be the last of the Drakharns to reign, and that after his death there would be over one hundred years of warfare and chaos. None of them would have cared if they did. The Imperium would find a way...it always had.

"Sir, we're running out of supplies!" The ship's cook called up. "It was a mistake to assume we'd make it to Port McIntyre!"

The Captain cursed. They had made it to the Harbour, but it had been under Imperial Quarantine due to an outbreak of smallpox. He checked up his map, and idly clicked his tongue. "We have no choice," he decided, "we'll head for Islandia..."

The winds hastened them along, and he took special notice of his small cannons. Primarily a trading vessel, there were very few weapons of any real size on board...one could only rely on that the fact that any one attacking an ISSTC ship would find the Imperial Navy along in very short order.

Small comfort that'd be to the dead and wounded...

Tag

Captain Vladimir Vladivostock Lenenkov paced about the deck. They had been at sea for 2 months with no resupply while looking for pirates and he, along with the men were getting uppity. Levenkov was the commander of the frigate Indefatiguable under the service of the Great Tsar Morozov. He wasn't actually in the Hattian Navy, but was a Privateer, a rather successful one at that. He took a drink from a bottle of rum hanging from his belt. "Damn, empty..." He looked around, "Helmsman, set course for the nearest island!"

A cheer came up from the crew...

2 days later

"Land sighted captain!" shouted the man in the Crow's nest. "Signal the ships to raise a flag of truce..." The Captain peered off into the distance, he sighted a few small ships docked in the port, but nothing coming close to the size of his ship of war. An hour later they arrived in the port. Once they were docked, Levenkov handed the dockmaster a bag of golden Hattian sovereigns. "Know where I can get some supplies for my men?"

Captain Razentov's ship passed through the northern islands, and then he gasped in astonishment. He quickly pulled up his spy-glass and stared in shock when he saw the masts of a ship...two ships! But his maps showed no harbour here.

Then again, these islands had only been mapped by the Imperial Cartographers a few years before...a lot could have changed since then. "Mr Karenoff, rise the colours...show them we're friendly before we round the bend..."

The jungles seemed to push at them. While nowhere near as strong or dense as the Jungles of South-East Novar Ohan, they still looked to offer amazing oppourtunities to an adventurous soul.

The Trading Coster's standard flew from the mast when the Sanctity entered the harbour.

Sergeant Suo giggled at Captain Hawk's appearance and demeanor. "I am Du-jun (Sergeant) Su-oh Mi-yu of Is-lan-dia forces," she replied in broken English, separating the syllables as Islandians tended to do when speaking English or most other foreign languages. "Plea-zed to meit you, Hon-or-able Cap-tain."

She put her hand together in a palm and fist salute common to the islands of the region. She took his hand and led him to a chair, and bade him sit down.

Wei yawned and chuckled, nodding at Captain Hawk by way of greeting. "I think he'll do fine," he said to Shuang. SHuang nodded and smiled at the Captain. For the most part, they were an amiable bunch, and any human contact was to be cherished and Islandian codes, like most other codes of behavior, dictated that their guests were to be treated well, so Sergeant Suo began to pour him some of their prized, rare rum.

"Dashing one," he said. "The foreigners are good at womanizing."

"What do you suppose he really does for a living?" Wei asked his comrade.

"Probably soldiers of fortune," he replied. "Who knows? But we have standing orders to let them through as long as they dont pose a threat, and especially if they're foreigners, since our Emperor wishes to learn of the outside world, so that's that."

"He should just send more ships out," Wei said, stretching back and rubbing his eyes. "But not my concern."

"Between fighting the Northerners, the Western tribes, and the Southern bastards, we have little time," Shuang replied. "Oh what i would give for the Golden Empress to reign again, centuries later!"

Meanwhile, offshore, two ships came into the harbor. Wei became business like and began shouting orders to his men, most of who were nearby drilling with each other.

"Boarding party!" he yelled. "Translator Ang, accompany us! Shuang, take the other ship," he ordered, pointing to the Roanian vessel.

"Ugh," Shuang said as he gathered his men and headed into the swift outrigger canoes. "Rank is a blessing."

The two parties boarded the different ships with a white flag on top, in case they were mistaken for hostile parties, and shore gunners trained their rockets onto the vessels, hoping nothing major would break out.

"Gree-tings," Shuang said to Captain Razentov. He noticed the wounded on deck, and quickly whistled to his second in command, barking out a few terse orders. Within minutes, healers were on their way in outrigger canoes.

"What ha-ppen to your ship?" he asked as several larger boats began to tow the Sanctity closer towards land. "Are you al-right?"

"They're Roanian, sir," his second in command whispered. "Close to us, also in our oceans, but I dont know if they understand English or our language."

"Do we have any other specialists?" Shuang asked.

"They got rotated," his second in command replied.

"Well, lets hope they understand," Shuang replied. "Help his men off, and allow them onto the island. Questions will be answered later."
****

The dockmaster, a Dragon Lieutenant, shrugged. He did not speak English, but luckily, Wei and his detachment came trotting over.

"Hello," Ang said to him in English. He pulled the dockmaster close and whispered to him in Islandian to get some food and drink supplies for them, as well as to keep the gold, since that was Western money.

Turning back to the captain, he bowed, as did the rest of their detachment. "We are Islandian Marines," he said to Captain Lenenkov. "You are welcome in the Northern Islands, but first, what country do you hail from and what do you require?"

To the west and east of the lagoon are various inhabited islands, large landmasses (size of Iceland) that dot the seas. On the islands are fierce natives, and not of Islandian descent. The land is not really owned by Islandia, but rather is open for settlement and exploration-as long as the colonizers and such pay a small fee or arrange some form of recompense. Of course, being that Islandian forces are scarce here, some can skirt the payment, if they are undiscovered.....

To the North are more islands, controlled by Agrigento. If he ever joins this Rp, and even if he does not, perhaps you can try and wrest the islands from him (they are resource rich and quite beautiful).

http://www.screensaverjapan.com/nature/tropical/tropical.jpg

http://www.conteaviaggi.com/rapanui-02.jpg
Rapa-nu-yeh Lagoon, where everyone is right now.

http://students.washington.edu/sdmorris/photos/puerto_rico/mona/beach.jpg
an uninhabited island

http://www.patheyman.com/essays/honduras/honduras1/hondu10.jpg
another uninhabited island

http://www.worlddivingassociation.com/south%20pacific%20mountain.jpg
islands galore!

"We hail from the Tsardom of Hattia. We have heard reports of pirates in the area, their heads fetch quite a nice price in the Tsar's court. We also really need to resupply. I suppose some shore leave couldn't hurt either.

"Certainly, certainly," Ang replied. "YOu are welcome. However, esteemed Hattians, you must be careful if you do decide to proceed southward, into Islandia. If you wish to roam these parts, without heading into Islandia, then you are welcome to do so. Nonetheless, if you go south, you need to acquire, from us, a special signal flag and perhaps some signal rockets as to inform the inner defenses that you do not bear hostile intent. Also, you must close your gun ports if you are heading into Islandia.

"Now that the business is concluded," Ang said, "feel free to go where you wish."

M.M. Ribaldi
Punino Lagoon
_____________________

The larger capital ship slowly meandered its way across the crystal clear water, its navigators trusting the charts and the nearby lighthouse to guide them around the bristling coral. Behind it sailed the bulk of the 1st Salt Water Fleet, its Fire Ships and Light Galleys struggling not to overtake the flagship. From above it must have appeared like a tadpole, this curious line formation, thought Admiral Bertucci, pondering the thought patterns of the numerous sea birds above. Even at night they stalked these calm waters for prey, in the never-ending struggle for survival.

The formation, if unorthodox was the only way they could hope to navigate these perilous waters, which provided the sure route to the Agrigentian outposts. Once through this narrow passage the corridor opened to San Giovanni, San Giuseppe and Baia di Serena

"A pleasure," Hawk responded, bowing deeply again. However, his head very casually turned to look at the Hattians at the mention of pirates, and a price. He stood back, and watched them come ashore.

Lenenkov nodded gratefully and turned back up towards the ship. "24 hours shore leave, you know the rules. And watch out for anything that looks like a pirate, I daresay we could all use the money."

The Captain then made his way down to the beach and sat down on the sand. He picked up a handful and let it run through his fingers. It had been 2 months since he had set foot on land. He layed back and closed his eyes...

Meanwhile, the sailors, unlike those from most other nations, were quite well mannered. Most of them went about filling their bottles up alcohol.

"Wor-ied?" Suo asked, noticing Hawk's discomfort. "Per-haps Cap-tain of hat-ti-a will find more gold than you will?"

"What do pirates look like?" Wei mused as he led his men through the pounding surf, swimming easily from years of practice.

"Dark," one of his men replied.

"We're dark too," he retorted, and led the men back onto the beach, where they picked up their weapons and armor, lacing them back on, and heading off into the jungles for a quick run.

Offshore, a green signal rocket erupted over the three Islandian ships.

"Ships sighted," a communications officer reported to First Commander Liu, who was in charge of the garrison. "Instructions?"

"Send an outrigger to Coral Leaf Atoll for reinforcements," Liu replied. "Then dispatch Dragon Dawn to investigate."

"Hai."

The Clipper appeared on the southwestern horizon. Her sails full set to take the trade winds and a fast passage to new trading grounds. She flew a red pendant with a white dragon on it, the flag of the Wittelbach Cartel.

The Wittelbach Cartel was one of the few trading companines in the world that had trading concessions within the Klatch. With that came stories of ships carrying everything from Kronos Pine Resin to gold bullion, fine tea to fine hardend steel. They carried the wealth of the Klatch out to the world and purchased what the klatch could not or would not produce within itself.


Captain Loke Edwards stood on the deck watching the far shore. He looked down at the compass and up at the sailing master.

"Mr. Beck, keep us on this course until our bowsprit is even with that headland then turn port by five degrees..."

"Aye, Captain...should I send the boy down to get Mr. Hawthorne..."

"No, I think Mr. Hawthorne needs his rest, he took a serious blow in that gale a few nights ago..."

"Aye, Captain..."

"I'm going to my cabin to study the charts we bought off the East India Company...I doubt if they are accurate but better that then nothing...you have the deck...Until Mr. Browrey calls a gun practice"

"Aye, Captain...not again sir, we've run those 12 pounders in and out like madmen...I did na join the company to be in the bleed..."

"We do not have any of the company frigates along with us...which is why the Henry was sent. Only a fool or a well armed advisary would want to mess with six twelve pounders..."

"Aye, Captain...guess it's better than having ta take orders from a woman..."

"I will ignore that comment...or are you stating oppostion to Her Grace..."

The sailing masters worn face turned ashen at the thought of saying something against the Grand Duchess. Her enemies had a habit of becoming quite...dead. He just shook his head and looked at his Captain hoping to avoid offical displeasure.

Captain Edwards turned and began making his way back to his cabin. He knew the sailing master was refering to the cadre of female officers that seemed to be showing up in the new Duchy Navy but really the man should know when to keep quiet...

Sergeant Suo giggled at Captain Hawk's appearance and demeanor. "I am Du-jun (Sergeant) Su-oh Mi-yu of Is-lan-dia forces," she replied in broken English, separating the syllables as Islandians tended to do when speaking English or most other foreign languages. "Plea-zed to meit you, Hon-or-able Cap-tain."

She put her hand together in a palm and fist salute common to the islands of the region. She took his hand and led him to a chair, and bade him sit down.

Wei yawned and chuckled, nodding at Captain Hawk by way of greeting. "I think he'll do fine," he said to Shuang. SHuang nodded and smiled at the Captain. For the most part, they were an amiable bunch, and any human contact was to be cherished and Islandian codes, like most other codes of behavior, dictated that their guests were to be treated well, so Sergeant Suo began to pour him some of their prized, rare rum.

"Dashing one," he said. "The foreigners are good at womanizing."

"What do you suppose he really does for a living?" Wei asked his comrade.

"Probably soldiers of fortune," he replied. "Who knows? But we have standing orders to let them through as long as they dont pose a threat, and especially if they're foreigners, since our Emperor wishes to learn of the outside world, so that's that."

"He should just send more ships out," Wei said, stretching back and rubbing his eyes. "But not my concern."

"Between fighting the Northerners, the Western tribes, and the Southern bastards, we have little time," Shuang replied. "Oh what i would give for the Golden Empress to reign again, centuries later!"

Meanwhile, offshore, two ships came into the harbor. Wei became business like and began shouting orders to his men, most of who were nearby drilling with each other.

"Boarding party!" he yelled. "Translator Ang, accompany us! Shuang, take the other ship," he ordered, pointing to the Roanian vessel.

"Ugh," Shuang said as he gathered his men and headed into the swift outrigger canoes. "Rank is a blessing."

The two parties boarded the different ships with a white flag on top, in case they were mistaken for hostile parties, and shore gunners trained their rockets onto the vessels, hoping nothing major would break out.

"Gree-tings," Shuang said to Captain Razentov. He noticed the wounded on deck, and quickly whistled to his second in command, barking out a few terse orders. Within minutes, healers were on their way in outrigger canoes.

"What ha-ppen to your ship?" he asked as several larger boats began to tow the Sanctity closer towards land. "Are you al-right?"

"They're Roanian, sir," his second in command whispered. "Close to us, also in our oceans, but I dont know if they understand English or our language."

"Do we have any other specialists?" Shuang asked.

"They got rotated," his second in command replied.

"Well, lets hope they understand," Shuang replied. "Help his men off, and allow them onto the island. Questions will be answered later."

Razentov blinked and tried his Russian. "Do you understand me?" He asked, loudly and clearly. His Lieutenant shook his head, embarrassed. "I come from Divine Imperium! I am Guild Captain!" He repeated the same in German a second later.

The Lieutenant elbowed him, and in the musical tongue of the Micronesians he quickly ran through a list of the ships complaints. "A...small puppy dog...nein hurricane! hit us on our way to the South...our supply stop was quarantined...we have seven men severely blue...injured!...and need resupplying..."

He wiped his brow.

Translator Ang quickly clambered aboard the ship, accompanied by his own detachment.

"He says he's the captain," Ang replied, seeing his superior's confusion. "A tuei-fung hit them, and they need resupply and medical aid."

Shuang nodded. "Anything else?" he asked.

"I'll ask," Ang replied. "Is there anything else you require?" he asked hte captian, in Russian.
*********
"Ship to the right," a sentry aboard Imperial Fury reported, sighting the cutter from Whittenbach.

"Slow," Captain Wu ordered. "Stay out of effective cannon range, and signal them with a blue rocket in the air, then fly a white flag."

"Hai."

A blue rocket roared into the air, exploding high over the two ships. Then, the Fury produced a large white flag, and began to wave it at the ship.

"Prepare gun crews," Captain Wu ordered. "Close main gunports, but make sure our heavy rockets and our stern revolving cannons are still brought to bear. Signal the shore with flags; have them train their weapons on the ship in case we find any trouble."

Imperial Fury was a rather large, fifty two gun ship with two guns on a revolving platform (included in the count) on the stern deck and two more weapons ahead, towards the sails. Likewise, it carried about twenty rockets of various sizes, most of which could easily slam into enemy ships with their heavy warheads.

"Load outrigger and prepare boarding party," Wu said. He looked at the young Marine lieutenant aboard, who nodded. "Get your men into the outrigger and remember to fly a flag of truce. Good luck."

"Let's hope they realize we're not looking for a fight," Wu's first officer muttered. "We would have hit them with inciendiairies, smoke rockets, and then more cannon rounds if we were seeking to sink them."

Wu sighed. "I certainly hope theyre not looking for a fight," he replied. "Lieutenant Shi has his work cut out for him."

The Alconian three masted ship was fairly large, almost 1200 tons. She was painted in black uppers and lowers with 'gun' ports clearly identified along a white central stripe. As the rocket hit overhead the sails of the vessel began to be furled and she slowed in speed. Slightly altering course to drop the wind out of her sails.

Captain Edwards stood on the quarter deck with his officers and looked at the Junk.

"Well that is quite a nice little girl isn't she...what fifty two guns," Hawthorne mused...

"Aye, countin' those swivels on the foredeck and the quarter deck..." added the sailing master "...a bloody second-rate* junk"

Captain Edwards turned and called out. "Mr. Perry raise a white flag and signal We come in peace. He looked at Hawthorne. "Well if they want to take us they will, there is no way were going to be able to fight them off."

"Yes, Captain...but we should be able to out-run her if need be..."

Edwards raised his glass again at the Junk. "It appears we are getting a welcoming party, Mr. Hawthone get the landsmen out onto the deck for a honor party."

"Aye, Aye Captain...Hedrin, ring the call bell if you would..."

The small sharp bell carried across the sea as the Henry came to rest, a white flag and six signal flags carried up her main mast.

(*military rate of ships based on the english rating system)

Hawk looked back over his shoulder towards the ships comming in. He smiled and looked at his men, many thouroughly drunk, and others no longer in the state of sobriety defined as awake. His hand came down, resting lightly on his cutlass. Of course, that wasn't his only armourment, four pistols and another rapier hid under his heavy Captian's jacket rounded out the heavy weaponry, and two daggers in each boot hid more sharp things. He looked out towards the A&H ships pulling in, and his grin remained.

We need some of those rockets, and one of these nice new ships, he thought to himself. He began his almost flamboyent walk towards the waterline, nodding to teh few men that weren't already gone. He approached one of the Islandian soldiers, and bowed slightly. "Tell me, what have we going on here?"

Razentov shook his head. "No...except, perhaps, to trade these goods, yes? It is doubtful that we will make it to the south...are there any merchants on these islands?"

The crewmen obeyed orders with ease, pulling on their robes and mantles over their trousers. Several fat men, dressed in garish robes and wearing several rings on each hand, came from down below. "Captain, what is the meaning of this?"

Razentov bowed to the newcomers. "Ah, most noble merchants...we have been forced to put into a port for restocking..." he politely kissed each of the Merchant Leader's rings.

Dragon Lieutenant Shi watched the men impassively as the outrigger pulled up to the ship. He had heard of hte British certainly, and did not really know what to make of them. There were even groups of Irish and Welsh expatriates in Islandia, and from what Shi had seen and heard of them, they were certainly fierce fighters, especially the ones who had joined the Imperial Ghost Brigades (think Foreign Legion).

LUckily, his interpreter, an Irish man by the name of O'Connor, was along to translate. He had an excellent command of European languages, and was invaluable.

Too bad he hated British for what they did to his country, so Shi had to make sure that he reigned in his ruly interpreter.

The men clambered up a ladder from their outrigger, and walked onto the Whittenbach ship.

Shi saluted the captain with a palm over his fist. "Greetings," he said. "You are in Islandia. What is your business here?"

He waited for O'Connor to translate, but Shi was worried; O'Connor's dark eyes seemed unusually morose, and his body language seemed agitated.

"Shape up," he hissed to his subordinate. "And translate well! We're dead if there are any misunderstandings."

(O'Connor has an Irish accent, so your men may kno that he is Irish.)

O'Connor nodded. "Hello to you," he said, bowing politely. "We are Is-land-ian soldiers, and we wish to know who you are, where you are from, and your business here."

***************
Sergeant Ou looked blankly at Captain Hawk. "{i]Sa[/i]?" he asked, puzzled.

His subordinate shook his head. "Customs post," he said, pointing to the building. "Port," he said, pointing to the lagoon. "Unexplored territory," he finished, pointing to the other islands to the west and east.

Meanwhile, Sgt. Suo watched him like a hawk, even as she pretended to be knocked out from the effects of a night on patrol and alcohol. She noticed Hawk scrutinizing a rocket crew sighting and levering their weapon, aiming it at a distant target in the underbrush.

Within half a minute, the weapon was sighted, aligned, and the fuse lit. The main gunner pointed a thumbs up at his crewmates, and all pressed their fingers into their ears as the forty pound projectile slammed into a nearby building of stone, built for target practice.

From nearly sixty meters away, the building was still standing, though the inside was destroyed...

Suo frowned. Why was Hawk so interested in rockets? For all she knew, the westerners had such technology, although she had yet to see the fiery weapons on Western ships...

OOC
o btw, if y'all wanna get imperialistic and try to jack som sh*t, thats fine too, since we need to get some life into this thing....

*****

"Trade?" Ang asked. He quickly poked hte soldiers besides him, who began to gape at the foreigners kissing the rings of their leaders. "There are ports down south. We will issue you a pass as soon as we receive a list of your cargo manifests and passenger list, and verify that you do not have a ridiculous amount of weapons aboard."

Slowly the dark mass drifted through the clear, shallow water. Its battered exterior and tattered sails gave an ominous feel to those unfortunate enough to look upon it. On first glance it would have appeared to be just an illusion in the fog, but after a second look the observer got the sudden feeling of melancholy. There was great tragedy in this ships wake, and the dead men on board would certainly tell no tales.

As it approached the Gun emplacements and stockades of San Giuseppe the small boats of the garrison were sent out to meet it. The soldiers of the colony would search and search for survivors, then salvage anything they could before leaving.

Then the fire ships came, and like a dragon, streams of flame began to erupt from their nostril-like hoses. Soon the ghost ship was ablaze, as it floated along the swift ocean current, casting an eerie glow as it meandered around the islands.

Another victim of pirates, another crew dead, another treasure taken, and another wealthy family likely taken hostage, to be ransomed off.

Hopefully that would change, and the seas of Tropical Paradise would become safe again.

Such were the thoughts of Admiral Bertucci as he began to plan his first act as commander of this tropical outpost.

Hawk spun, his Captains jacket wiping out around him, then came to move at a qucik pace towards his ship. He signaled, and one of his men followed him. They moved quickly, and climbed a rope ladder up to his ship, and entered his cabin.

"We need those Rockets, more men, and somenew weapons," he said, pulling out his cutlass and looking at the rusted blade. He dropped it on the table, and looked over some maps of the area. "We can do it tonight, see if we can get some of those nice looking merchants alone, take them. Alive, of course. We only need their money. And see if we can try to recruit some of the Islandians."

The man, a rather large black man from Trinibad, nodded. "Yesa sa. I thinks we can do something ata night, wait till theys are a sleep, then move. Of course, the men, I think we need to finda some nice Islandian women."

Hawk nodded. "Yes, of course. We need to find some Islandian women. We can ask if their is a decent swords smith around as well." They left the cabin, and Hawk grabbed onto a rope, sliding down the side of the ship, into knee deep water. He would keep a...watchfull ear?...out for the conversation taht would signal deserters.

OOC
o btw, if y'all wanna get imperialistic and try to jack som sh*t, thats fine too, since we need to get some life into this thing....

*****

"Trade?" Ang asked. He quickly poked hte soldiers besides him, who began to gape at the foreigners kissing the rings of their leaders. "There are ports down south. We will issue you a pass as soon as we receive a list of your cargo manifests and passenger list, and verify that you do not have a ridiculous amount of weapons aboard."

The guildsmen nodded, and soon the sailors and wounded were on their way to the beach. Along with several of merchants and their servants, always eager to make contact with a new race.

As they started to land, several of the sailors gasped in surprise at the sight of women with weapons. Noting this, Razentov gave a curt order, "eyes front! First man to be caught fraternising will recieve ten licks of the cat!"

~~

As the sailors and his brother merchants retired, one single merchant was taking a close look around. Pitr Darquis had noted the slightly spartan life of the soldiers and natives, and had hit upon an interesting idea to make a profit from his supplies.

With a hearty laugh, he called over two Guild Marines and directed them to build him a slight stand. 'I doubt we'll be going anywhere save home after this...might as well sell some of my goods...'

As soon as the rickety wooden stand had been assembled, the robed man leapt onto it, his rings sparkling in the sun. "Ladies and gentlemen! May I briefly have your attention?" He called in near-perfect English. A few desultury heads turned his way. "I do not doubt that it was perhaps an act of providence which brought us to these shores! You have saved the lives of countless men, and the best I may do to repay you is to open my stores, stores that were meant for the primitives of Micronesia...but perhaps more civilised men such as yourselves would enjoy a sampling?"

He clapped his hands, and his servants brought out a large chest. "Open it, open it right up, men!" The chest popped open, revealing several flasks and packages. "My name is Pitr Darquis, and I'm a dealer in luxuries...a little wine, some vodka...maybe some opium, if that's where your tastes lead... I can sell it all, and generally have. But, allow me to tell you what I have right now!"

He picked up a flask, holding it above his head. "Today, I travel with some of the finest vodka that is not in the cellars of the Imperial Palace! This will warm your nights and cool your days, eh?" He tossed the large flask, and then two more, in front of him. "It is the least I could do to offer you these flasks for free, in the interests of rewarding our rescuers... as for my other services, well... all I require would be some goods I can sell up north...some durians? Bananas? Palm leaves, perhaps? Maybe even some...rockets?"

He kept a close watch on his chest, not liking the look of some of those other men. Tonight, he would sleep with his rings on his fingers.

[QUOTE=East Islandia]Dragon Lieutenant Shi watched the men impassively as the outrigger pulled up to the ship. He had heard of hte British certainly, and did not really know what to make of them. There were even groups of Irish and Welsh expatriates in Islandia, and from what Shi had seen and heard of them, they were certainly fierce fighters, especially the ones who had joined the Imperial Ghost Brigades (think Foreign Legion).

LUckily, his interpreter, an Irish man by the name of O'Connor, was along to translate. He had an excellent command of European languages, and was invaluable.

Too bad he hated British for what they did to his country, so Shi had to make sure that he reigned in his ruly interpreter.

The men clambered up a ladder from their outrigger, and walked onto the Whittenbach ship.

Shi saluted the captain with a palm over his fist. "Greetings," he said. "You are in Islandia. What is your business here?"

He waited for O'Connor to translate, but Shi was worried; O'Connor's dark eyes seemed unusually morose, and his body language seemed agitated.

"Shape up," he hissed to his subordinate. "And translate well! We're dead if there are any misunderstandings."

(O'Connor has an Irish accent, so your men may kno that he is Irish.)

O'Connor nodded. "Hello to you," he said, bowing politely. "We are Is-land-ian soldiers, and we wish to know who you are, where you are from, and your business here."

***************
[QUOTE]

bloody pakata's don't even know the proper way to board a ship.. passed through the bosun's mind as he blew his wistle. The familiar twang of home seemed to reduce his prejudice against this place.

Captain Edwards stood on one side of the welcoming party. The other side consisted of men who were holding rifles snapping to attention when the native delegation arrived.

He paused for a second ,turned and returned the bow. "I thank you for your greeting. I am Captain Edwards of the Wittelbach Cartel out of Zeeland in the Alconian Archipelego. Landgrave Wittelbach has set me the task explore this region with the Henry. We are hoping to procure markets for Klatchian trade goods and find new resources."

He paused for a moment, "Might I enquire your officer's name and yours young man?"

The crew stood around or hung from the rat lines watching the proccedings with intrest.

"Me officer's name is Shi," O'Connor replied. "I am Sergeant O'Connor in the First Impureal Ghost Brigayde." O'Connor shot the bosun a sly look, and winked. "They call us ghosts cause our faces are paler than theirs," he said with a chuckle. "BUt the food's good, the pay's decent, and me family's getting a fairly good place to stay.

"If ye waunt ta find some markets, you should head down south. first though, u need a pass, which our cap'n will prob give u. Thing is, there are lots of pirates around these parts, and more than a few nations seeking to colonize people. So be real careful, and make sure you got an interpreter," O'Connor said with a smile. "My tropical friends arent the most trustworthy. Not like us Irish, eh?"

"Resources are everywhere sir," O'Connor continued. "But as for gold, you're out of luck; these men dont even know what it is. But if you need some tropical islands, some tropical women-" he gave the cap'tain a wink-" then you can go to one of the islands in the south and try your luck there. But if you need some slaves, you best be careful. Them islanders are very touchy about slavery, and best steer clear of that course. Opium is forbidden, but alcohol should fetch a good market. And, apparently, European silver is very...desired."

*******
"Cat wa nani?" First Lieutenant Ishimoto asked Ang. What is a cat?

"Whip," Ang replied. "They say cat of nine tails."

Ishimoto nodded, then shuddered. "Poor westerners," he said, shouldering his rifle and marching on, but not before giving the merchandise a good, thorough look.

"Anyone found with opium gets another thirty laps around the island with thirty kilos!" Suo barked, warning her command. "Thiefs are to serve as unarmed combat targets and sparring partners for me."

Although a simple five foot five, Suo was twice as fast as most men who were much taller than she was, and quite forceful too. She was also a brutal sparring partner, and usually she only took either malicious challenges or soldiers who violated the rules.

Similar orders were shouted by other squad commanders, and the soldiers and sailors quickly shied away from the opium. They did, however, try to buy some other things, usually by way of barter.

One man held up a seashell necklace and pointed to a silver spoon. Another man passed Darquis a bottle of flower-water and pointed to a bottle of rum. yet another Marine showed Darquis an ornate, sparkling knife made of folded steel with a glimmering, silver lined scabbard, and one man tried to trade a spidersilk overgarment for a gawdy ring.

"First one to give away rockets will serve garbage and patrol duty for two weeks," Wei barked. "And face loss of pay for FIVE."

He turned to Ang, who had told him of the news. "Rockets cannot and will not be traded due to Imperial regulations," he said, "unless the good merchant BARTERS us something powerful in return."

Ang grinned slyly and turned to translate.

******
Two ships came to harbor, both flying the red spike-wheel of the Islandian flag. The Marines on shore turned to welcome them, and the soldiers and crew aboard disembarked.

The men bore the emblems of the First and Third Ghost Brigade, and qucikly rushed up to the Darquis, swarming his stand with requests and offers to barter. Evidently, the men hadnt seen such goods in a long time, and they were, after all, far from home, most of them being Irish, Scottish, and Welsh, with a few Russian Jews here and there who did the translating.

Captain Edwards chuckled a moment, "So I guess then we would be called a ghost ship by our hosts sargent? If you would be so kind to inform your officer Shi that I would like to meet with your captain about gaining a pass.." He stopped and smiled for a moment, perhaps sargent you would convey that I wish to extend an invitation to dine with me and my officers this evening to your captain, and yourself as interperter of course."


The second officer wispered into Edwards ear. "Yes, see what you can find out about that other trader. They may be willing to part with items for the gold since it apparently has no value in these islands." Edwards whispered back.

"Sargent, Officer Shi, is there anything else I can do for you at this time? I'd like to send an officer and some men to investigate the impromtu bazzar that seems to have formed on the shore..."

"Perhaps you would like to put into our harbor," O'Connor suggested. "You are certainly welcome, and as for your invitation to dine aboard your ship, I thank you verymuch for that. I havent had a decent meal since I was expelled from Scotland." He grimaced and shrugged. "At least here its not so foggy and cloudy all the time, eh?"

"Wel-come to Is-lan-di-a," Shi said, bowing again.

"I wil inform our captain. We will first, however, require a quick list of the provisionsand supplies carried aboard your ship," O'Connor said. "As for the pass, you can get that at the harbor too. in Fact, why dont we all stop by? The traders would most certainly welcome more business...."

Hawk walked over, peered at the goods, and walked away. Nothing he couldn't steel for free. Instaed, he milled about the crowd, before approaching a Marine with a decent set of ribons and medal and other things that made the Marine look important. He swept up with his extravagent walk, and bowed deeply. "Tell me, good sir, is there a sword smith around, or anyone skilled in the metal works?"

Meanwhile, the large black man from Trinibad scaned the crowd, looking for anyone who apeared bored or other wise unhappy with their positions. His muscular arms easily spread the crowd infront of him. He stood at six foot five, and weighed near 240 pounds of pure musscle. His weapons were slung over his bare back, two large swords. A single pistol was stuck in his belt.

It had been a long standing goal of the Divine Imperium to accquire rockets and rocket technology, one that had been consistently thwarted by the Chinese and Islandians. At the mere mention that something might be tradable for the rockets, every Guild Merchant slowly and carefully power-walked back to their merchandise, their robes making them resemble nothing less than ships in full-sail.

Within an hour Darquis had rapidly been joined by several more stalls, selling everything from foodstuffs to medicine to primitive Weapon Brooches, whose first appearance in Micronesia had nearly killed the unfortunate native who had picked it up.

Darquis, however, was speeding along quite well. He had examined the spider silk garment and found it to his satisfaction, parting with one of his rings. 'Not such a disaster after all...'

Captain Razentov, however, had spotted the unfortunate Russian Jews, and his mind had turned to a way to increase his own profit... 'if I pressgang them, and then deposit them either in Imperial Port Agua or the Czarist Maritime Provinces, then I'll get rewarded...' he had to figure out some way to do so without alarming his hosts, though.

========

Several sailors were watching the Islandian women with interest. "Come on, Gorki...you know the captain just said that to cover himself..." 2nd Lieutenant Bassyan murmured, elbowing 1st Lieutenant Rivrik in the side. "And it's only an order for the men, not us..."

Rivrik chuckled drily. "Hard to pick people up who don't speak a civilised tongue...like those bloody imbeciles over in Mother Russia who speak worse Russian then us in the Imperium!"

"But they speak bloody good French!"

"Perhaps you would like to put into our harbor," O'Connor suggested. "You are certainly welcome, and as for your invitation to dine aboard your ship, I thank you verymuch for that. I havent had a decent meal since I was expelled from Scotland." He grimaced and shrugged. "At least here its not so foggy and cloudy all the time, eh?"

"Wel-come to Is-lan-di-a," Shi said, bowing again.

"I wil inform our captain. We will first, however, require a quick list of the provisionsand supplies carried aboard your ship," O'Connor said. "As for the pass, you can get that at the harbor too. in Fact, why dont we all stop by? The traders would most certainly welcome more business...."


Captain Edwards was a bit miffed at the sergeant. The man appeared to be completely out maneuver his officer. "Ah yes, so we will loft into the harbor and drop anchor…Mr. Hawthorne if you would please? And you have permission to take my jolly boat and the chosen men out to investigate this bazaar…" He returned to the local delegation, "I will have my clerk work out our provisions list, or do you want a manifest? It seems strange that you would want to know how much water, beef, lemons, mutton, dried okara and peas, salted fish, corn meal and such we have...but perhaps you'd like to know how much we have in arms, powder, shot and what we are planning on bringing into your fair country?" He gave a bow to Shi and said, "I am most pleased by your hospitality…"

The older man bowed and vanished for a moment, then returned with a small pouch which he handed to Hawthorne in welsh he added…"Eighty five marks in gold coin sixty five in Spanish silver sir, good hunting…."

The ship unfurled its topsails and slowly pushed into the harbor. At the same time, the jolly boat was lowered on the starboard side. Hawthorne yelled a few orders, then vanished for a moment returning with his sword attached to his waist. Eight landsmen, with deep green jackets and white pants pulled off from the line. Each wore a wide brimmed hat, carried a muzzle loading rifle and had a short sword attached to their belt. The landsmen eight men made their way to the jolly boat. The boat crew appeared to be also armed with short muskets.

A few moments later, Hawthorne, his eight chosen men, the boson, and a boat crew of 10 were pulling for the shore and the bazaar. The crew began to lower the anchor.

Captain Levenkov made his way to his ship. After marshalling all the sailors with horn calls. The frigate set it's sails and drifted silently out to sea.

OOC: I've been really busy lately, and I'm leaving town for 6 days, so I won't be able to participate.

OOC
Roania, the Russian Jews are enlisted in my Marines. I dont think its legal to press-gang soldiers from another nation's military into yours.

******
"Are you mad, sir?" Suo hissed through her teeth as she stared down her taller superior officer. Tough as nails and ferocious as hell, she glared at him unyieldingly.

"Calm yourself, Dujun," Wei replied. "I have orders from IMperial Command to trade away no more than five rockets for maps of the Pacific, as well as one of the ghost-face's manuals on the various countries in the West. We need to fraternize with nations other than Agrigento, and it seems that we will also need some background before we do."

"Seems a dubious excuse to trade away rockets to me," Suo replied, shaking her head. "Imperial Command must be getting desperate."

"They are," Wei replied. "If we dont determine the strengths, weaknesses, and nature of our erstwhile neighbors, who can we trust?"

He turned to Ang. "Tell them that I want five full scale maps of the Pacific, along with two books on the customs and culture of the Westerners. You are to examine the documents, and if he wishes, he may examine the rockets we will trade him, which will be four rockets, two siege rockets of twenty kilos with a solid warhead warhead, and two medium rockets of ten kilos each with a fragmentation warhead. Spare fuses will be provided, but it is up to you to make them seaworthy. We will teach you how to fire them, but aside from this, we cannot promise any more weapons. However, you may procceed into the interior of Islandia if you wish more weapons, as the Imperial government may wish more maps and resources."

********
The black man in Hawk's crew was watched by teh Islandians with interest. They had little experience with Africans, and as such, were intrigued. However, their comrades from the Ghost Brigades assured them that there was nothing to be interested about, as they were simply another people.

"After all," one Irishman said to his friend, "you were intrigued by us at first, were you not?"

His friend, an Islandian, grudgingly admitted so.

Soon, no one paid him a second thought as they went about their business. However, with the close of rocketry training, the rockets were quickly spirited away to the storehouses, and the only visible rockets were on the ramparts, which were heavily guarded inside and outside.

"You may wish to consult our smiths," a Scotsman replied to Hawk's query. He quickly spoke in fluent Islandian to the officer, and got a nod and a pat on the back. "He says that the smith asks for little money, but is a good worker."

*********
the landsmen from the A&H cutter were quickly pulled in and waved to the bazaar. Two foreigners fromt he Ghost Brigades volunteered to translate for them, Lieutenants Strang and Denby.

Smith nodded, removing a bag from under his coat. He held it by his side, and again spoke to the Scot. "Ask him how much a cutlass of good quality woould cost, and how soon it can be done."

OOC: any answer for edwards question?

IC: The landsmen made their way around the several stalls looking at the stalls. One stopped and asked about the Weapons Broach. Hawthorne didn't say much of anything. He continued to walk around and came to stop looking at the rockets on the ramparts with a bit of a quizical look.

"Certainly," O'Connor replied. He whispered some quick Islandian into Lieutenant Shi's ear, and his superior nodded, quickly motioning over several civilians, who were customs inspectors.

"If you would be so kind to show these men the cargo hold and to issue a list of your cargo, we would be moving along fairly quickly," O'Connor explained. "They are Imperial customs inspectors."

On shore, several Irishmen of the Imperial Raiders, First Ghost Brigade, waved and pulled over some of the A&H landsmen.

"Greetings," one of them said. "It has been quite a while since we've seen any of our own here."

"What brings you here?" another one asked. "And where are you from?"

"Have you any news of Ireland?" another one asked. "I'm from COunty Omagh, and I havent returned in years. My term's due in half a year, and I'm going to bring my family from there soon. Have you any news? Are the English still ruling it?"
*****
After some consultation with the smith, the Scotsman returned, still holding the bag of money.

"He doesnt know how to make a cutlass," the Scotsman replied. "But if you come with me, he's got some bloody brilliant Asian swords lying about."

The two walked to the shop, and found, instead, katanas, Islandian curved swords (single bladed swords with a double handed handle), Chinese oxtail broadswords, Mongolian goose quill sabers, Vietnamese knives, Islandian daggers, Japanese tantos, Korean sabers, and Indian flexible swords. The smith, an old man with a quick smile, told the Scottish officer that all of the swords in Asia were represented here, and could be fetched for a good price.

"Swords from all over the bloody Far East," the Scotsman replied witha chuckle. "Pity he cant make OUR weapons, since he's so damned good at making these blades. If only he could make a proper cutlass.... but what do you think? Would you like any?"

"Sargent O'Conner, would you please inform your lieutenant that unless he presents a valid reason for inspecting all of my cargo I will refuse his inspection. I am willing to allow the cargo that I off load to be inspected. But a full manifest and inspection may easily find its way into the hands of a competent pirate. Second, I will allow him to inspect my armory and guns but at the moment that is as far I am willing to go in the matter."
Edwards tried to look pleasent, but his face was stern.

***
The four landsmen were a well dressed group but the first one who opened his mouth was obviously of dutch decent, and had the markings of a corporal

"Names Vannee, me and the boys here are from the Grand Duchy of Alcona, you might remember it as the Thunderbay colony that went its own way when Cromwell had the English Crown." He looked at them, most of them likley had only vaugly ever heard of the place. A blip in the history of the English Empire that had vanished into the swirl of the East and West Indies.

"We're looking for new trade goods out in these parts. I'm from Zeeland originally, got shipwrecked in the Squall Straits and wound up joining the Company most of the rest of these boys were born in the Alconian Isles...."

"I've been on the Vrakian trade routes these past twelve years...So have Enhart and Metway, Jones is the new runt, joined up less than four months ago..." He looks around and points..."Hinder, these boys are from Ireland...want to know something of home..."


The Landsman named Hinder nodded and came over, He was big with red hair almost out of every part of his body. "I was in London two-three years ago, the English were still trying to get over the Stuarts invading to get back the throne. Turned into a right mess and the highlanders are in poor shape these days. The Irish seemed to be a bit quiet since a famine wipped out a good number this eight or nine years past (The forrgotten famine). I'd say the French and the English will be at war again soon enough, but Ireland likely won't see much benifit. The French want to expand New France to the south"

Hawk surveyed the goods. "Nice, but not quite what I'm looking for." He thanked the man, and walked out with the Scotsman. He then leaned over and whisperd. "Say, who would I go about talking to regarding some of those rockets?"

#tagged...

Several sailors made their way quickly through the crowd, heading for one of the Russian Exiles. "Greetings, Jew. We were just wondering why it is that you have taken up arms against your true master, the Czar of Most of the Russias?" One of them spat on the ground by his side.

The Captain watched with interest from behind some trees.


==========

The merchants closed their stalls temporarily. In conference, their fingers moved incredibly fast, forming signals and concepts not understandable to any observers.

A map of the Pacific? Barthy, think you can oblige?

I would hope so... the man addressed as Barthy took a look through his cases. It would seem to be that I have no maps of the Eastern and Southern Pacific... the Shieldians and Calarcans interfere there, much like we do in the North...

The Weapon-Jewellery Shopkeeper laughed (again in Guildspeak), and clapped his hands together. Daggers shot from his armbands and into his hands. Come now, why should we not take them by force?

Because they outnumber us? We'd have to wait until nightfall...wait. The captain might have some maps of the Pacific...we'll offer them. He's our employee, and it's not like we can get lost just heading directly north, yes-no?

Agreed. I'll find some of those National GuideBooks that I had taken from that Britisher Merchant last year.

Amist all the business, a flotilla of maroon ships entered the lagoon.

To call them "maroon" ships would be to oversimplify things, for while most of their hulls were painted the dark, brownish shade of red, the outside walls of the gun deck were painted black and outlined with a golden paint. Each of the ships was a frigate of the Syskeyian Navy, and the head ship of this small fleet was the R.S.S. Filioque.

The Filioque's commander was Captian Francis Sheu, a man in his late 30's. His uniform was white, gold and red on black (i.e. a Continental soldier would be red-on-blue, a British soldier would be blue-on-red etc.). The Army soldiers on board wore red-on-black uniforms.

Like nearly all Syskeyians, Captian Sheu eschewed the powdered wigs so fashionable in Europe, he did, however, wear his hair in the ponytail favored by 18th-century men.

This will be a voyage to remember he thought...

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

The soldier that the Roanians spoke to blinked in surprise then looked at him, confused.

"I'm Irish," he replied in fluent Russian, scratching his head. Major Levenston had lived in Russia for a few years, and had picked up the language, but it still was beyond him how anyone could mistake him for a Jew. "But I would ask you to not speak in that sort of tone."

His voice, though polite, seethed, and several Jewish Islandian soldiers relaxed themselves, as all Islandian warriors did before combat.

"Changsuei guso?" an Islandian hissed, clearly displeased by the spitting of the Roanian. He quickly stood behind the Irishman, rifle in his arms.

"Go to hell shmuck," a Jewish skirmisher yelled, sidling up to the rapidly growing throng. "If you're stupid enough to walk in here and insult us, you had better be ready to die."

"Besides, the Emperor pays better than the Czar," another Jew, armed with a huge double handed broadsword, shouted. "At least they dont shoot and trample us because of who we are!"

The Roanians were in a fix; they were surrounded by fifteen men, most of them Irish and JEws from the First and Sixth Ghost Brigades, and the rest of them Islandians who could speak, or at least understand, some foreign languages, and had hence sensed trouble. If anything, Islandians were good at close combat with the large mixture of martial arts flowing in from all over Asia and from the powerful techniques that originated in the islands themselves.

Ang reported the situation to Wei, who narrowed his eyes. He walked up to the captain and spoke quickly.

"Control your men, Captain," Ang said. "Or we will be forced to."

Wei looked at one of his companions with a cross look. The man shrugged, sat back, and whistled softly.

Within minutes, covert rocket positions were turned towards the Roanian ship, and swivel batteries prepared for action.

"And you can forget about the rockets also," Ang said. "Call them off."

Several more Islandian soldiers, communicating through secret looks and code in their singsong language, sidled closer to the crowd. In the underbrush, a marksman, hidden by a thick layer of leaves and dressed in hunting clothes, drew a bead on the Captain.

*******
One of the Irish standing next to the A&H sailors whistled.

"No idea it was that bad," he said sadly.

One of his compatriots tugged on his sleeve and motioned, with his eyes to the right, where the Roanians stood, surrounded by a throng of incensed soldiers.

"Trouble," he said simply. "Knew you couldnt trust a Russkie."

The third man laughed, and patted the A&H sailors in a friendly way. He handed them two spidersilk flasks of flower water, a local liquor, and grinned. "Almost as good as rum," he said. "but stronger. See if you like it."

"Thanks for the news," the first man said. "We will be back as soon as we bloody up some bears."

THe three men walked off and waved over their shoulders, unslinging their rifles and walking casually towards the bazaar.

*******
"I dont like the look of this," Lieutenant Shuang said to his men.

"I dont either," Sergeant Suo replied, her eyes narrowing.

"Deploy Hu and Bei Detachments," Lieutenant Shuang ordered. "See if you can make contact with one of the Ghosts and rally them together."

"No need," a voice said behind them. They turned to see Sergeant Major (the ranks of the Ghost Brigades took after British military structure) Kacyzinski, who grinned, white teeth under dark green warpaint. "The ghosts have made contact with you."

"Group your men, Dujun," Shuang ordered. "Have one of the sharpshooters cover the weapons store owner. If he so much as flinches wrong, kill him. Have second squad cover the bazaar with a rocket place. If anyone can fight in smoke and noise, its our men, especially since we always brutalize them in order to make them better soldiers. Have one battery cover the escape, and have skirmishers ready to take out all the store owners."

"Already in place," Kacyzinski replied, smiling again. "I thought you would say so Lieutenant."

"What did the Roanians say to you anyway?" Shuang asked.

"They spoke in a bad tone and spat," Kacyzinski said solemnly.

Shuang nodded. "Right," he said. "Well I dont like them anyway. We're behind you all the way, Dujun."

Kacyzinski smiled. "Thank you."

"We're all soldiers here," SHuang replied. "No need."

*******
"Doesnt Europe have rockets?" the Scotsman, First Major McLeod, asked. "But anyway, dont let my officers hear of your request-unless, of course, you have any maps of the Pacific or any books on medicine. Maybe then they'll barter you something."

The Alconian First Officer was standing at the small, impromtu stands looking for anything valuable when things went a bit haywire he turned to the man following him and said, "Get the boys rounded up to the boat. I'm going to keep my ears and eyes peeled on this little fracas."