NationStates Jolt Archive


8/20: The Temperature At which Truth Burns

Allanea
28-08-2004, 18:42
OOC: This movie trailer appears on TV, wherever they will take it.

IC:

"On the 20th of August, 20??, Allanea fell under attack. Orbital bombardment plowed the nation right back into the Iron Age.
[cut to scenes of hunger, destruction and poverty in Allanea, burning building, amputees in hospitals etc. in a quick succession]

What happened? What caused this mindless destruction?
[cut to face of child amputee asking: "How could they do it, Mom? How could they?"]

[cut to face of the Ctani leader, saying "Legal? Can you point out where we signed up to be presided over by a higher legal authority than ourselves?"]
On July, 10th, 20??, Allaneans have landed on Mars' north Pole.
(http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=258
http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=256&view=findpost&p=346962)

Several minutes later, battleship Dead Air landed on the Pole, claiming the land for the Duma - but the land was already claimed.
(http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=256&view=findpost&p=346997)
A stand off began which proceeded until the 20th of August - when the Duma decided to give the North Pole to a nation called Liang.
[cut to the face of the FSP leader, saying "Legal authority is derived from force"]

Then, as a Lian vessel tried to kill off the hatcling colony by landing on it, war broke out.
[cut to more images of destruction]

Within ten hours, the nation of Allanea was occupied and ruined. How it happened? How did they justify it?
8/20. The Temperature at which Truth Burns, coming soon to a theater near you.
A Demented Production
Monetistan
28-08-2004, 19:03
In Monetistan, the hype didn't seem to work. The people, as divived as they were, had already made up their opinion. And The Fall of Allanea (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=350888) was simply the more popular version. Hence, 8/20 was mainly seen as a piece of propaganda, the last attempts of a broke, a fallen 'government' to make itself known to those who had rejoiced during the campaign.

Nonetheless, a few people would probably watch it, either out of boredom or because they would indeed want to know just how Allanean propaganda works.
Sentient Peoples
28-08-2004, 20:03
<TRANSMISSION Opens, Heavy ENEM-FSP Diplomatic Encrypt>
<TO: SIRITHIL, ENEM>
<FROM: IMPERIAL President D’ron Smith, FSP>
<RE: ALLANEAN Movie>

Sirithil,

This Allaneans for a Better Future business has gone far enough. I am hereby requesting that you shut them down and lock them in their tower. Or eject them from Menelmacar. I care not which.

But this nonsense has to stop. Shut off their communications access, freeze their assets, deny their ability to release more propagandizing shit to the world at large. I cannot establish control over their country with you and them fighting me every step of the way. Do something, instead of letting them run all over my Territorial Affairs Directorate with your full backing.

~D’ron Christopher Smith, Imperial President, The Federation of Sentient Peoples

<TRANSMISSION Terminated>
Allanea
28-08-2004, 20:19
Official Announcement of Allaneans for A better Future

We deny the senseless allegations that the film is in any way sponsored by our organization. We are not responsible by the off-duty activities of Mr. Demented - or the love life of Mr. Kazansky - or the philosophy of Mr. Danneskjold. However, we note that the film contains major factual truths which should not be ignored, regardless of its controversial nature
Iuthia
28-08-2004, 22:05
<TRANSMISSION Opens, Heavy ENEM-FSP Diplomatic Encrypt>

OOC: For a nation in exile you sure can decode secret messages well. I suppose you have taken into account that SP's message is secretly between himself and Siri right?
Allanea
28-08-2004, 22:19
OOC: Yes, Iuthia. IC this is unrelated.
Aerion
28-08-2004, 22:41
The major media conglomerate that owned the majority of theaters in Aerion that were visited by the working class simply decided that 8/20 The Temperature At which Truth Burns would not be shown in Aerion theaters. Some special interest theaters that the wealthy of Aerion often visited would, however, show it. Simply, because some of the wealthy of Aerion got a perverse kick from seeing war, and destruction. Luckily, these were mostly an eccentric few.
Menelmacar
29-08-2004, 06:53
Menelmacari holotheaters would likely show the movie, just as they showed Fall of Allanea. Menelmacar does, after all, have a free press. But was 8/20 all it was pitched as? Debate already raged in the Menelmacari holonets about the truth of the film's claims, much as they had about the films of Michael Moore. The apparent packaging of 8/20 as a documentary, if it was not entirely factual, would lead its producers into legal problems with the Menelmacari Imperial Film Board for fraud - Menelmacar had stringent regulations about what could be termed a documentary.
Agrigento
29-08-2004, 07:30
Spettacolo Stasera
Channel 3, Evening Edition
_____________________________

"Next up on our list is a new movie coming out of Allanea entitled '8/20: The Temperature at which Truth Burns'

"The film, despite its self proclaimed documentary status, is regarded as a work of historical fiction by many film aficionados. It tells the story of the fall of Allanea, from an interesting perspective, right Rob?" began Cynthia Beluchi, the show's host.

"Yes, indeed Cyn, the story is shown through the eyes of an altruistic child," chimed in co-host Roberto Lamanza.

Cynthia looks a little embarrassed, "Are you sure about that one Roberto?, I thought it was a non-fiction narrative..."

Roberto's face reddens a little bit, "Well after seeing it, I was under the impression that it was a militarized Rain Man..."

Cynthia's glare spoke harsh volumes. "The film did make its debut in movie theatres across the country yesterday, netting a respectable showing and yielding a little less than expected in ticket sales," she said, quickly changing the subject and attempting to regain her composure.

"Yes, it seems to be a perfect filler between the hot summer and winter movie seasons," added Roberto, timidly. He knew what awaited him during the next segment break.

"Speaking of seasons: Luigi Denato is live in Varisca Memorial Stadium, where during the calcio off-season many of the nation's youth have begun to congregate for the start of Frisbee leagues...."
Sentient Peoples
29-08-2004, 07:42
<TRANSMISSION Opens, ENEM-FSP Diplomatic Encrypt>
<TO: MENELMACARI Imperial Film Board, ENEM>
<FROM: OFFICE of the Imperial President, FSP>
<RE: 8/20, ALLANEAN Film>

To whom is may concern,

Attached is the records from the AV recorders in the Imperial President's official office for the time frame in which he was interviewed by Mister Demented, an interview featuring in the new Documentary/Propaganda piece.

Data Files Attached

~Office of the Imperial President

<TRANSMISSION Ends>

OOC: Due to some stupidity in the webhosting service I have, this is the interview transcript from IRC, since I can't manage to link to it. Parts in () are OOC statements.

[15:41:36] <CecilBDemented> Good day Mr. Smith.
[15:42:55] <CecilBDemented> As you probably now, I'm a filmmaker and member of Allaneans for a Better future. I am making a documentary about the One Day War.
[15:43:10] * TheImperialPresident smiles. "Good day, Mister Demented. I prefer to be addressed as Mister President, if that's okay with you."
[15:43:20] <TheImperialPresident> And yes, I am aware of that.
[15:44:10] <CecilBDemented> Have you seen any of my films, Mr. President?
[15:44:54] <TheImperialPresident> No, I cannot say that I have, at least, not that I am aware of.
[15:46:18] <CecilBDemented> I see. Now, about the conflict. I have a difference of versions here, you see. Allanean records, and 01 official reports, seem to be pointing that the Allaneans arrived to the pole earlier than the Ctan. The Ctan claim otherwise. Who is right?
[15:47:54] <TheImperialPresident> I'm not fully aware of the Mars situation, but I was under the impression that what started this conflict had nothing to do with the C'tan, and everything to do with Allanean nationals illegally attempting to claim Liang land.
[15:49:00] <CecilBDemented> Are you aware of the fact the fist Liang request for that land came after the Allanean landing?
[15:49:52] <TheImperialPresident> Yes, I am. An illegal Allanean landing, without permission from the Martian states as a whole.
[15:50:50] <CecilBDemented> I see. May I ask which Martian state held sovereignity on that land at the moment of the landing?
[15:51:58] <TheImperialPresident> None. It was under the collective authority of the Duma, for its control of the land was recognized by all the Martian states that cared to voice an opinion in the matter.
[15:53:15] <CecilBDemented> Actually, Sir, I have a copy of the Mangala Accords right here. Can you point out to me whence the Duma derives authority for land not held by any Duma member - and in fact not held at all by anyone?
[15:55:01] <TheImperialPresident> It doesn't, in the Accords, to which, in case you missed it, the Federation is not a signatory. The Duma arrived at that authority by its own collective request, and by the authorization of all the other nations on Mars which cared to respond to the situation.
[15:56:03] <CecilBDemented> So, basically, a group of nations achieved legal control over a piece of land that belonged to none of them, simply by agreeing on it?
[15:57:30] <TheImperialPresident> Pretty much. The land belonged to no one, so, my legal understanding is that they declared themselves to all be joint owners of the land and then placed the distribution authority in the realm of the Martian Duma.
[15:58:32] <CecilBDemented> But didn't Allanea land there before the Duma representatives arrived there?
[16:00:31] * CecilBDemented winks
[16:00:33] <TheImperialPresident> That hardly matters. The claim of the Martian Nations superceded any claim by the Allaneans, who, I note, arrived after the joint claim was put into place. The Martian Nations then had the legal authority to remove the Allaneans, who were squatting on land that belonged to everyone but them, from the land.
[16:01:15] <CecilBDemented> So, even if, as the Allaneans claim, they arrived there first, you don't give a damn?
[16:02:40] <TheImperialPresident> The Allaneans did arrive their first. But their claim was illegal, as it was claimed land, just unoccupied.
[16:03:12] <CecilBDemented> When was the claim of the Duma made, anyway?
[16:04:55] <TheImperialPresident> Prior to the Allanean arrival.
[16:05:06] <CecilBDemented> (OOC: Link?)
[16:05:56] <TheImperialPresident> (OOC: Generally accepted among Martian Nations. I don't know of a specific link.)
[16:06:17] <TheImperialPresident> (As in, generally accepted for months now.)
[16:06:59] <CecilBDemented> (OOC: R.O.F.L.)
[16:07:51] <CecilBDemented> Do you think this provides a legal justification of what has then taken place?
[16:08:25] <TheImperialPresident> Legal authority is derived from force, Mister Demented.
[16:08:51] <CecilBDemented> Are you aware that your are speaking for the cameras?
[16:09:58] <TheImperialPresident> I speak for the cameras everyday. Nations are defined by what they can protect and what others are willing and able to take away from them. In the case of Allanea, that was nothing they were able to protect, and everything that others were able to take away.
[16:10:48] <CecilBDemented> Do you define the rights of your citizens the same way, Mr. President?
[16:11:24] <TheImperialPresident> Of course.
[16:12:47] <CecilBDemented> Tell me, when the infrastructure in Allanea - I'll just use the geographic term now, Mr. President - is restored to the level at which cinemas are possible - will you permit the showing of this film?
[16:14:29] <TheImperialPresident> Unless the film advocates criminal actions of some kind, most likely. There would be no reason to limit the expression of free speech in Allanea unless the populace does something to warrant it.
[16:15:57] <CecilBDemented> I see. Now, as the Secretary for Culture and Education in Allaneans for a Better Future, may I certain requests?
[16:16:02] <CecilBDemented> *make
[16:17:13] <TheImperialPresident> I'm always delighted to hear people's opinions on things, and always try to keep an open mind, so go ahead.
[16:18:49] <CecilBDemented> I suggest, Sir, that you cooperate, where possible with ABF, on the reconstruction of Allanean internal infrastructure. Personally, I am interested in the schools.
[16:20:17] <TheImperialPresident> I'm quite interested in the schools as well, though making sure that the people have enough food and health care is my top priority. And I will do my best to allow the ABF to assist the Territorial Affairs Directorate where possible.
[16:20:54] <CecilBDemented> I think it would be valuable at least if you at least used the same recommended reading lists to reconstruct the school libraries. If you let us, we'd in fact use our funds to do that.
[16:21:53] <TheImperialPresident> If you'll provide the lists to us, I'll do what I can.
[16:22:52] <CecilBDemented> We will publish them. Then anybody who cares can chip in. Good, no?
[16:23:28] <TheImperialPresident> Sounds like a good plan to me, though the TAD will retain final authority over the process.
[16:24:48] <CecilBDemented> Finally, sir, would it be possible for you to salvage from the Martian North Pole the chlorophusion reactor from the Kryptonite cruiser shot down there? If it's operational, it could turn on the light in the entire Allanean mainland.
[16:25:03] <CecilBDemented> AND power your facilities as it did.
[16:25:50] <CecilBDemented> It would save money for everyone.
[16:25:58] * TheImperialPresident nods. "I'll see what can be done, though the dwarves from Liang control that land now. Theirs is the first rights to salvage."
[16:26:34] <CecilBDemented> Of course. We could fund a similar one, if you wish. We prefer chlorophusion, you see.
[16:27:24] <CecilBDemented> Now, my final question is that: the Chairman would like to invite you to a personal meeting in Menelmacar. Could you free up some of your time, say, in a few days? (OOC: I know how you run timelines)
[16:27:39] <TheImperialPresident> Very well. If it cannot be salvaged, we'll of course be willing to help build a new one.
[16:27:55] <TheImperialPresident> (That goes before your last question, obviously.)
[16:28:07] <CecilBDemented> (yeah)
[16:28:50] <TheImperialPresident> I'm afraid not, Mister Demented. We have an international conference coming up, and my country is still fighting a land war in the northern areas of our country.
[16:29:30] <CecilBDemented> Oh, I see. Thank you. You understand, of course, not all of this will be used in the film.
[16:30:17] <CecilBDemented> (I will actually make a .wmv trailer for it)
[16:30:34] <TheImperialPresident> I completely understand, though if my statements were to be used in a manner in which they were not intended, I would of course be required to release my own records.
[16:31:06] <CecilBDemented> In actual fact, Sir, I will make a DVD of the records available.
[16:31:36] <CecilBDemented> Oh, and one last thing: we want to start a school for Allanean refugees in menelmacar. Care to chip in?
[16:32:17] <TheImperialPresident> See my secretary before you leave, she'll give you a check. But if that's all, Mister Demented, I do have a country to run.
[16:32:49] <CecilBDemented> Yeah. *MY* country. :)
[16:32:59] <CecilBDemented> Thank you, Mr. President.
Jeruselem
29-08-2004, 15:09
We have no problems with the movie, Allanea, as Armageddon movies are always popular in Jeruselem.

God bless
The Ctan
29-08-2004, 16:48
Open to a woman, sitting at a fireside, a woman, more specifically, from her grey-blue skin and long white hair, tied back but for small parts hanging down in front of the face, her dark eyes glittering with keen intellect. She smiles and nods to the perceived location of the audience – though with holography it’s often hard to tell, “Hello, in case you don’t know me,” she says, “I am Elash Mîraglariel, the Adjutant of the Emperor. It appears we’ve recently seen a trailer for a forthcoming… film… by the curious name of ‘8/20. The Temperature at which Truth Burns.’ In this trailer we have observed the use of footage from an interview kindly granted by the Emperor – in such a way that implies that we had something to do with the attack on Allanea, something we find curious, given that if we had attacked Allanea, we would have done so… differently,” there is an edge of threat to her voice. “In any case, we would just like to release a clip from the same interview of our own.”

She smiles and the image changes to a meeting room in the Tareldanorë C’tan embassy, in Vinyatirion. Cecil B Demented is there, asking, “I see, Sir. Now, in my capacity as Secretary For Culture for Allaneans for A Better Future, may I wrap this up by a request that you donate - in books, if you prefer - to the organisation's public library, set up as charity for children of immigrants?”

Demented smiles, edging the Allanean camera operator to do a close-up, and the the image shrinks to bring the Emperor into view, "Certainly," he says, "In fact... how many are there?"

"What, books or children?" smirks Cecil.

"Children of course."

"We estimate at least three hundred at the moment - and far more one the airports are open. Our first goal, of course, if to give them an Allanean education."

"Oh, well then," he says, "I'll make a point of providing computers and books for them then."

"PC's, we presume. Straight Windows. No Linux. Who should we mail with the book list?"

"Well. Something vaguely equivalent," he says, not having heard of either operating system, "The Office of the Emperor, Sentinel Two, Mars."

The image changes, “Indeed, the only reason we haven’t actually got on with that yet, is the slight problem of some of the items on the reading list – for example, ‘The Lord of the Rings,’ we did think for a while that this referred to the final part of the Red Book of the Periannath (http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/r/redbook.html), but they seem to consider it fictional, whereas the Red Book is a historical account of everything from the First Age to the slaying of the Dragon Smaug, and the Third Age fall of the Lord of the Rings, and the Return of the King to the throne of Gondor… Perhaps Mr Demented would care to write to Barad-dûr and explain why he believes... 'Lord Annatar...' to be fictional,” she smiles playfully, "I do hope that this documentary won't be as poor as the trailer suggests, after all, that would force me to make a counter-documentary, and that'll cut into my social life," another playful smile and the recording ends.

-----

http://www.necrontyr.plus.com/images/elashav.jpg
Elash Mîriel, Adjutant of the Emperor
The Ctan
29-08-2004, 17:23
Meanwhile, a horde of gophers flunkies and minions busy themselves booking the above into any theatre or other establishment showing Demented's film, as a trailer in advance of the main feature.
Scolopendra
29-08-2004, 18:06
Scolopendran Independent News
"Because It Sucks to be S.I.N.-less

A short-black-haired, olive-skinned woman wearing a conservatively-cut maroon business suit nods to the camera. "We are here today with Doctor Arnold Farakour of the University of Stonozka's film studies branch." She turns her head as the camera pulls back, indicating a man of indeterminate Western Eurasia/Northern African descent with a short and slightly scruffy beard. "Welcome, Doctor."

"Thank you, Miss," he replies, folding his hands on the news desk, simple black suit having the sort of slight sheen inexpensive material acquires.

"Doctor, what can you say about the latest film out of Allanea? Certainly a surprise, given their condition."

"Not so much. It is an appeal to emotions couched in the terms of a historical document. It doesn't exactly classify as a documentary because it takes snippets wherever it pleases to convey a particular political message, much like propagandamentaries of the past. By eliminating context, especially in the "power is derived by force" quote, it can reinforce a particular view without ever truly 'lying'--only 'omitting.'"

The reporter nods. "The 'power is derived by force' quote--that appears to be a major portion of the movie's argument, that our allies in the Queendom and the Federation are fascists--"

"Warmongers, actually. The Federation are fascists, but relatively harmless Italian Fascists with enough democracy to make them socially redeemable... but look at what the president said after that--'Nations are defined by what they can protect and what others are willing and able to take away from them.' Any political science major will agree that is a basic truth of international politics. Think about it--all of the old international documents of laws, what binding force is there? What enforcement? International law is violated on a daily basis, and it is only enforced by the nations who are interested to and have the power, either diplomatically or militarily, to do so. Also, international law is not universal. By weighing so heavily on the ancient imperial colonialist law of 'he who lands on a territory that is not a polity is the owner' Mister Demented essentially proves the fallaciousness of his own argument--if that rule was agreed to by Mars, then we wouldn't have brush wars occuring there every time a government hiccuped."

"Why do you call it colonialist, Doctor?"

"It's quite simple. It comes back from the days when England, France, Spain, the Netherlands, Germany, could all land in Africa and the Americas and claim land there. Of course, there were already cultures and local governments there, even if the government was only on the tribal level. As those nations were not recognized on an European basis, they did not exist and were thus held in thrall. Same thing happened to the Native American nations. This film doesn't portray all the facts, only those that further its argument."

"Isn't that standard for documentaries? All of them edit their material."

"True, but there are notable differences. The best documentaries, like The Atomic Cafe (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0083590/), do not need voiceovers or snippet-editing to make their point. They provide long stretches of information, in context, and don't browbeat the audience with analysis. The realm of a documentary is education. Browbeating and persuasion is the realm of propaganda."

"So... how does it rate as propaganda?"

"Lukewarm at best. It classifies more as polarization propaganda than true persuasive propaganda--the only people it will convince and inflame to action are the people who already believe it going in. In that way, it doesn't even make it to the status of The Birth of a Nation (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0004972/) and certainly doesn't compare to what is considered the pinnacle of propaganda work, Triumph des Willens (http://us.imdb.com/title/tt0025913/). It doesn't convince so much as it reinforces. It doesn't turn the nonbelievers or make the neutrals see the director's quote-unquote 'reason,' it just makes the hardline believers believe just that much harder."

"In short?"

"Tripe, plain and simple. While the kind of ultrahawk Allanean that was the direct cause of their current state will remember it for ages to come, more rational people will forget about it within five years... and that's a high estimate."
Forum Feline
29-08-2004, 18:19
tag
Goobergunchia
29-08-2004, 18:48
Public Opinion Survey
LBN/Goobergunchia Tonight/Trotter Poll
Conducted 28 - 31 August 20??
Sample Size 2,401 Goobergunchian Adults
Margin of Error +/- 2%

1. Do you think that the bombardment of Allanea by Zero-One was justified?
Yes - 53%
No - 22%
Unsure - 25%

2. Do you think that the occupation government of Allanea by Sentient People is justified?
Yes - 78%
No - 10%
Unsure - 12%

3. Do you plan to see or have you seen the film 8/20: The Temperature At Which Truth Burns?
Yes - 36%
No - 60%
Unsure - 4%

4. If you have seen the film, what was your opinion of it?
Increased sympathy towards the Allaneans - 31%
Didn't change my mind one way or the other - 61%
Anger at the Allaneans for misrepresentation - 8%
Dread Lady Nathicana
29-08-2004, 21:31
The picture starts as a blank unrelieved black, then a warm woman’s voice speak the words that ghost onto the bottom center of the screen in simple white font, subtle, haunting instrumental music is played very softly in the background.

http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/prop1.jpg

"We hear of death."

A sepia-toned scene of bodies laid out in rows, covered in sheets ghosts in, letterbox style, the camera panning across as the words morph into others, one after another. Mothers. Fathers. Sons. Daughters. Loved ones. The scene goes blank again momentarily.


http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/prop2.jpg

“We hear of loss.”

Again, a sepia-toned scene that shifts between different camera shots. Here, dirty children play among the ruins of what once was an industrial complex. There, people scrounge through the wreckage for food, shelter. Another, a sprawling shanty town is shown in all its bleakness.


http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/prop3.jpg

“We hear of suffering.”

Close-ups of disheartened citizens stare mournfully from the screen, expressions of resolute hopelessness, grief, and despair painting their features. The words again morph at the bottom of the screen. Hunger. Disease. Destitution. Insufficient medical supplies. Again, the screen goes momentarily black.


http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/prop4.jpg

“We hear many things designed to tug at the heartstrings.”

Another sepia-toned picture, a close-up still frame of two young children, their faces dirty and tear-streaked, a clear expression of ‘why’ on their faces. This time, the picture stays while the words change, and the voice speaks again.


http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/prop5.jpg

“What we haven’t heard is the truth.”

What scrolls across the screen now, slowly, is a list of events accompanied by dates and times when available, in text large enough to read clearly as the voice continues.


http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/prop6.jpg

“The Allanean government illegally sent squatters to Mars in hopes of stealing a patch of land. Never once was the rightful leadership of the Duma, who presided over the contested area, contacted until later. All efforts at others to work with the Allanean government were flatly refused, as were all local laws and long-established authority. At every point of this conflict, every effort was made by Zero-One, and others to work with the Allanean government, to offer it and the people it supposedly sought to protect the opportunity to avoid hostility.”

“At every turn, such offers were refused.”

“Ask yourselves. Where was the concern for the Allanean citizens when their government thumbed its nose at the Mars authority? Where was the concern for their children when they outright refused to even discuss terms? Where was their thoughts of hunger, destruction, and poverty when they knowingly doomed their people by defying and daring task forces rightfully assigned to protecting Mars interests at every turn? Where were there eyes set? Surely not on the people of Allanea, but on a patch of soil on the planet Mars, which they seem to value more than their own citizens.”

“Where, might you ask, is Allanea’s leader during all of this? Sifting through the rubble alongside his people as they struggle to rebuild, perhaps?”

http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/prop9.jpg

Cut to vibrant scenes of rich Menelmacar and its sparkling cities, healthy populous, happy-faced citizens as the voice continues.

“No. Alexander Kazansky lives the life of luxury safe behind the borders of Menelmacar, who to the surprise of many, has chosen to harbor in comfort the self-proclaimed disciple of their blood enemy, Morgoth Bauglir of the Five Kingdoms, Ruler of Arda. Alexander Kazansky hides behind the skirts of the Elentari while his people suffer for his mistakes, his sins. While his people starve, he spends their money and resources making trifling films to entertain himself with, spinning more lies and deceits.”

The screen goes black again. No further music or voiceover is heard.

http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/prop7.jpg

Again, the screen goes black.

http://home.mchsi.com/~ketri/wsb/links/prop8.jpg


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

To: The FSP Central Government
From: Dominion Ministry of Public Relations

We were hoping for permission to show the public service announcement in Allanea, feeling that it is important that the people know the truth of what their government did to them. Enclosed is a chip containing the PSA, and a proposal for getting the message to the people. We would be happy to provide the ships carrying the proper vidscreens for large area viewing, and to assist in bringing in electronic equipment for group education, which we would be happy to donate to your government to use in further educational purposes of the Allanean populace should we be allowed access.

I look forward to your response.

Sincerely,

Evangelista Ravanelli, Minister of Dominion PR
Menelmacar
30-08-2004, 07:10
<TRANSMISSION Opens, Heavy ENEM-FSP Diplomatic Encrypt>
<TO: SIRITHIL, ENEM>
<FROM: IMPERIAL President D’ron Smith, FSP>
<RE: ALLANEAN Movie>

Sirithil,

This Allaneans for a Better Future business has gone far enough. I am hereby requesting that you shut them down and lock them in their tower. Or eject them from Menelmacar. I care not which.

But this nonsense has to stop. Shut off their communications access, freeze their assets, deny their ability to release more propagandizing shit to the world at large. I cannot establish control over their country with you and them fighting me every step of the way. Do something, instead of letting them run all over my Territorial Affairs Directorate with your full backing.

~D’ron Christopher Smith, Imperial President, The Federation of Sentient Peoples

<TRANSMISSION Terminated>

Dear D'ron Christopher Smith:

Menelmacar has strict fraud laws regarding what can and cannot be packaged as a documentary - we call them the Moore Statutes, since it was his... er, "work" that precipitated their legislation. We suspect that this 8/20 film will more than qualify as propaganda under our laws, in which case we would then have to deport Kazansky and his compatriots to the Federation of Sentient Peoples. They have been warned they are here under the condition of abiding by the treaty and obeying Menelmacari law. So far, they have not broken the treaty or Menelmacari law, though that may change with the very day of 8/20's release.

Sincerely,

Sirithil nos Fëanor
Cetaganda
30-08-2004, 21:50
Interesting. 0.4 seems like a rather low temperature for something to burn at using any scale, even for something so ephermeral as 'truth.' Are we talking freezer burn here, or 'burst into giant flames' burn? Either one may explain why there's so little of 'truth' in the trailer alone.

Gregor Vetinari
Imperial Union of Cetaganda
The Ctan
31-08-2004, 20:02
The musty air of the vault was stale; it hadn’t been used in centuries. Along the walls was what would be seen as drawers, almost like a mortuary, but for the blinking lights on each drawer. The figure in the darkness touched one of the buttons, and a drawer slid out. It was covered in a glass surface, with more buttons. The figure depressed one, and the glass slid back, stasis field deactivating. The young man inside, for want of a better term, opened his eyes, chemicals in his veins readying him for anything. He opened his dry mouth and asked, “Whom would you like me to kill?”

Asirnoth smiled, “His name is Demented, Cecil B Demented…”
The Ctan
31-08-2004, 20:38
The assassin, Chai, proceeded toward the target’s last known location, in Vinyatirion, Menelmacar. He was displaced into position near the coastline and swam ashore from there. After taking some time to dry out, his drab clothing at odds with the fashions, but given that the humans in this land generally couldn’t afford to keep up with the trends as much as the other inhabitants, it was to be expected. Thus he hadn’t bothered dressing in a more appropriate style. This shouldn’t be too hard anyway, his mission was quite simple, infiltrate the headquarters of the Allaneans for a Better Future headquarters and eliminate the target in the name of ‘Lord Melkor.’
The Ctan
31-08-2004, 21:43
The assassin’s walk as he enters the building is extremely casual, anyone watching with X-ray style systems would notice a number of abnormalities in his body, and a number of bladed implements about his person, but in all probability, Allaneans didn't ask one another to surrender their weapons. As he approached the first nameless Allanean, he smiled, an odd movement, "Hello. I'm looking for Cecil Demented. Could you tell me where it is."
The Allanean shrugged. 'Don't you watch the news, man? He's back home right now, trying to get things back in shape. Those damn Feds seem to take time getting off their ass and doing something. We end up doing all their work for them."

The smile disappeared, and the assassin simply asked, "How can I get to him..."

The Allanean laughed. "Another fan? We get lots of those since that movie came out. Personally, I think I'd rather they'd drop the 'Cecil Make me A Baby' signs and chip in to help some, but Cecil seems to enjoy it."
"I don't think you understand," he said, "It really is quite urgent. I require a means of transportation to Allanea."
"Well, that is not too hard. Just sign up to some job in the AFB, and you'll be there in no time, and we'll pay for it, too."
"What is your matter of importance, if I may ask? Just so I may point you to the right office, of course."
"Excellent," he replied, false smile returning, "I shall sign up immediately - Oh, it's strictly unofficial business..."

"But you understand that if you sign up, you'll have to actually work, no? Signing up means you will help rebuild Allanea."
"That will not be a problem," he said, having no intention of doing any such thing.

"Good. The main recruiting office is that way, then."

Chai turns on his heel and walks in the indicated direction...

The recruiting office was a clean but ascetic place, a single desk with a computer on it, a chair for the recruiter, an Allanean flag and a picture of President Kazansky on the wall.
"How may I help you?" asked the clerk. "You don't look Allanean. Why are you here?"
"I am here to... help." he answered after a moment, his hairstyle is actually very elaborate, and more leaning towards the Menelmacari than the Allanean, given its length.

"Well, there. And they say we're not internationally popular - and yet you're the sixth non-Allanean volunteer today," the clerk shrugged, "So, what are you skills? What do you want to be doing?"

"What do you need done?" he asks, "You'll find I'm surprisingly flexible... I dare say I can turn my hand to anything..."

"Have you ever worked in the media?" asked the clerk, "We would need some non-Allaneans to work at the ANN."

"I'm quite capable of operating just about any camera ever devised..."

"Oh, great! We need that. Want to be on Mr. Demented's personal camera crew? He's about to make a sequel to his last movie. You saw it, didn't you?"

"I did indeed," he said, having seen it to orient himself with regard to the target's visage and mannerisms, "I thought it was... wonderful..."

"Well, you'll have an opportunity to be in the new one. I'm sending off a guy who is to be Cecil's personal driver today. You're going together."

"Excellent," he said, "what can you tell me about this new film?"

"It's a film about the Federal rule in Allanea... especially it's attitude to civil rights and children's education. It's called Sentient Dawn... you probably don't catch the inference in the name. Allaneans will, though."

"I'm sure it will be a success," he lied with a smile.

"Of course. When do you wish to leave?"

"As soon as possible," he said, "I have no other commitments at the moment..."
"Then you should be getting to the airport at the moment. In fact, Nigel - the guy who will be Cecil's new driver - will drive you there, too."

He smiled again, "Superb."
The Ctan
31-08-2004, 23:05
As Chai walks out of the building, he notices a large Allanean-made military jeep. The man driving it is wearing black jeans and a shirt saying 'When all else fails, vote from the roofs' on the back, coupled with a picture of a large, scoped rifle. The man, sporting a 'biker-style' haircut, extends a friendly hand to Chai. 'Nigel. I assume you're the cameraman?'

He nods, "Yes," he said, not even breaking his stride as he approached the - in his view crude - vehicle.
"Well, let's move it. We have to get to the plane in an hour. I don't know if you're aware of it, but I have emergency messages to bear from the President, and I don't want you holding me back. Are you armed?"
"Yes," he said.
"Good. I am sorry. I would not have asked an Allanean this question. Get in."

He got in without any answer, settling himself in the passenger's seat and watching the driver.
Nigel steps on the gas, and goes blazing away towards the airpor. "That was the speed limit." chuckles Nigel.
"Want music?"

He said nothing, observing that the Menelmacari, except those on foot, rarely use these roads. The average minion of the C'tan would care more about Menelmacari lives, but he isn't bothered if they hit someone, as long as they don't care, "Not especially..."
Nigel swerved, almost hitting an elf, "Good."
"You know, being pulled over by law enforcement isn't in our interest..."
"They need to catch up with this baby, first." Nigel noted. Within minutes they are at the airport. The car speeds out on the runway, towards a large mou B-747 jet.
"We go first class. The car goes cargo. Fine by you?"

He remained silent, internally observing that Menelmacari police vehicles mount plasma weapons... "Yes, that will be fine..."
Within two hours they were aboard the jet. Chei noticed they are perfectly alone on board - except the aircrew. "Top class flight, my friend." smiled Nigel. "Top-level national security. Not even the President travels that way, nowadays."

"Dare I ask why we do then?" he said.
"Nobody should be on this plane. You see, the message we bear is... confidential. Even you, Chei, and don't be offended, are a clerical mistake. You shouldn't have been here. That clerk is just dumb. I might have to kill you if someone at HQ finds out - so you better shut up and lie low after we deliver my message."

"Kill me?" he said, an eyebrow raised. He'd be amused if he were capable of it.
"I hope I won't need to. Maybe you might even help me deliver... the message. Have you ever been in the military, Chei?"
"What is your message?" he asked.
"Cecil Demented has been convicted by High Treason. I am to execute him by order of President Kazansky. We are to make it look like a foreign assassination, though."
"I see..." he said, weighing up his options, "I don't see any reason to interfere..."
"Would you mind helping, though?"
"Not at all," he said.
"Good. The trouble is, that I frankly have absolutely no plan. We need to develop one by the time we land in Axackal."
"We need a plan?"
"We don't?"
"No."
"Then how..."
"Walk up, say something dramatic, stab him..." he mentally added, "then kill you..."
Nigel shrugs. "No. My orders are there should be no witnesses. It should seem like a... professional, rather than enthusiastic, action."
"Besides, he's Allanean."
"And this means what, precisely?"
"We are a... security-conscious people. He's probably armed, wearing armor, and cyberenchanced up the wazoo."
"I doubt that will be a problem."
"Look, I'm a professional. I am doing this stuff for twenty years. You are... a cameraman."

He smiled, "Indeed..."
"We will get into Allanea by train to avoid searches at the airport. We will appeal to Cecil as driver and cameraman. We drive with him. Whenever he's alone, you will grab him. By the throat, from behind - Cecil has cameramen take the back seat. I read out the order for execution and shoot him. We blow up the car, call the newsies, tell them we went to take a piss, and were just lucky to escape the explosion. Nobody will check."
"Cecil will be a natinal hero - instead of being a traitor. Hell, we're doing him a favor."
"How about, just cutting his head off?"
"He needs to know why he's dying. And we need to make it look... professional."
"And beheading isn't professional?"
"You are right. But we must read him the execution order. That's part of our instructions"

He considered eliminating this guy sooner, but it would be... inconvenient... "So... grab him, read him it, monowire garrotte..."
"Perfect. Beheading and shooting are the back up plans, then."
He smiled, and looks out of a window, seemingly bored.
Menelmacar
01-09-2004, 03:38
There were, in fact, rather a lot of bank records linking ABF to Cecil Demented's little film house, as it turned out. 8/20's entire budget had passed through ABF. There had been some cursory attempt at banking shenanigans to hide the cashflow, but it had been apparent enough to the skilled investigators at both MISSION and the various Menelmacari police departments. Most nations' intelligence services did not really have the right nose for following the smell of money through accounts in more nations than could easily be counted, but the Menelmacari had become quite good at it, unfortunately for the Allaneans for a Better Future.

And so it was that a rather official-looking, sleek black gravcar pulled up in front of the ABF's building, and several Elves got out... they were wearing fine-looking but not at all ostentatious robes - actually, rather low-key for Menelmacari tastes... almost certainly government folks. The doors opened and the Elves entered.

"We need to speak with Kazansky. Now," one of them stated quite firmly when they reached the front desk, flashing official ID at the same time.

----

The underground roads of Vinyatírion were rarely quiet. But today they were, at least in the warehouse district east of the city center, in the industrial area between the outer cliffs of the Pelóri and the capital's gravport. This was likely because selected ones had been closed, in order to make way for a pair of MIDF armored vehicles - a brand-spanking-new GM5A7 Tarmecil gravitic main battle tank, and a GM6A9 Tarocco gravitic infantry fighting vehicle. The width of the Tarmecil in particular took up almost the entire tunnel... its sleek and menacing lines a harbinger of true power and utter devastation. Its absurdly potent dual main cannons had never been fired.

That would change today.

The two vehicles took a sharp left, into a newer tunnel, one leading into the parking area of a newly-built tower above... like most such facilities, there was a little booth with a gate where one would get a parking permit before entering... beyond was a corrugated metal door that would roll up to admit a vehicle. The gravtank cared for neither, and it barreled forward through the flimsy construction of the booth, and the bladed forward edges of the Tarmecil tore the door from its frame, leaving it in a twisted ruin... the military vehicles passed without further resistance down two levels of ramps, before entering a wide open area in front of another large steel door... this one a hardened blast door.

Here the tank stopped, and the turret swivelled ninety degrees to the right to point directly at the door... the dreaded glow of doom within the two 150-mm barrels seemed to brighten, and an ominous humming noise rose to fill the chamber...

...before twin bolts of golden superheated death stabbed forth with incredible force, striking the door squarely in its center, dead-bang.

There wasn't much left of this door after its brief meeting with a gravitic main battle tank, either.

In the lobby, the low boom from far below, and the rumble and shake it imparted to the tower's structure, didn't seem to perturb or surprise the Imperial visitors in the slightest.
Sentient Peoples
01-09-2004, 05:01
DataNets, C-space, Everywhere

<TRANSMISSION Opens, Diplomatic Encrypt>
<TO: MINISTER Evangelista Ravanelli, PR, DDLN>
<FROM: UNDERSECRETARY Angelina Scott, TAD, FSP>
<RE: YOUR Informational Broadcast>

Minister Ravanelli,

You are more than welcome to broadcast your public service announcement in the Federation Territory of Allanea.

Furthermore, we would welcome your assistance in our plans to further the education of the Allanean populace, in whatever manner you wish to assist. Payment can be arranged as required.

~Angelina Scott, Undersecretary for Education and Healthcare

<TRANSMISSION Ends>

Allaneans for a Better Future Tower, Vinyatírion, ENEM

Morfindel stood quietly as the Menelmacari official presented his ID to the poor Allanean at the desk. She almost felt sorry for the poor man. Almost.

Her black hair cascaded down, covering her tapered ears and falling loosely onto her back. She rather liked the way it brushed her ears when she moved. Kept her alert. The deep black strands vanished into her robes, the most sober of all the elves present, in solid black, the golden star and diamond sword insignia of a Federation Justice Directorate Senior Enforcement Agent hidden just underneath her robes.

And for an elf, she appeared to be relatively chunky, for lack of a better term, though her robes down the floor hid it fairly well. Along with hiding her standard issue pulse pistol and her stunner. She waited for the Allanean response, as a small smile crept onto her lips when the building carried up the sounds of heavy weapons.

Federation Broadcast into the Federation Territory of Allanea

A bustling scene, surviving archive footage from somewhere, of Heston City in its prime. “This is Allanea as it once was. Prosperous, healthy and intact. Then, when the former government authorized the use of nuclear weapons on the Martian Surface, it wiped away Allanea’s future as surely as if those same weapons had been used on the nation itself.” The image changes, a bright flash in the background, the sweeping wave of a nuclear explosion vaporizing the scene and turning the image to static for just a moment.

The static fades away to a picture of a field, devoid of crops, covered with dead locusts, quickly changing to a broken, shattered industrial park. “This is how the former government left Allanea, running away to a country they knew no one would dare follow them. Running as cowards. They chose to save themselves, and condemn the people they claimed to lead to an Iron Age existence.” The image changes once more, to people working at back breaking labor in the fields, using hand-made tools and horses, old and young, men and women alike. One group is drawing water from a well.

“They condemned everyone, except themselves, when they fled with all the Allanean currency reserves they could steal from their people. Condemned you, each and every one, to that life.” Pictures of thousands of Allaneans flash by in seconds, too quick to see any one clearly.

“Then the Federation came.”The Great Seal of the Federation slowly revolves on the screen for a full rotation in silence.

“We brought back running water, and power. We have deployed troops to help keep order and protect you from those that would scavenge from you in your moment of weakness, like those in UnAPS who tried to take your land.” Images, appropriate to what is being described on screen fade in and out again. “We rebuilt your factories, and helped your economy begin anew. We reopened trade, importing fuels and exporting raw materials. We’ve invested well over a trillion dollars in Allanea, and we’re just getting started.” The appropriate images continue.

“But we need your help. We need you to get jobs to help rebuild Allanea. We need you to send your children to schools where they can learn the skills they need to survive in the new world, a world of technology and peace and great promise.” Still, appropriate images continue to appear on screen.

“Together we can rebuild Allanea, we can make it strong again.” The image of Heston City returns, but this time, modernized to the Federation standard, towers reaching into the skies in the background, as hover cars whiz by them. A maglev train slides across the image silently. “But we need your help. Report to your local area office, and sign up now, so we can build a better future together.”

The screen goes black.
Revenia
01-09-2004, 05:15
OOC: ARRGH! You people and your logic...be the death of me yet. Of course, I wasn't trying to pass the -gliders- off as meteors. If I were doing that, I'd have used drop pods or some other conveyance. The Directorate Special Insertion Glider is designed and built to land a single operative and deploy from a slice-craft. Further, they are built to have extremely low sensor profiles. But, anyways...I was going to redo that post today regardless of whether or not it was accepted, wrote it in like, five minutes. Anyways..

IC:

Major Severian Stark sat in the loadout room, his team around him. Their gear was prepped, they were prepped, everything was ready. It was merely a matter of wait---

"All Severance Elements. Commando. I say again. Commando."

Eight men rose as one, and pulled on their balaclavas. The facemasks were made of the same material, dubbed 'Shadowsilk,' as the 'sneaksuits,' they wore. Shadowsilk was an amazing material, it effectively killed all emissions, making the individual wearing it a dead-zone in space.

They boarded the slice-craft and the pilot launched.

Slice-Craft were designed specifically for this sort of operation. They were the fastest small-craft ever built by Supremacy Shipwrights, and the sensor profile they emitted was practically nothing.

The time to deploy came quickly, and eight ghosts fell into the atmosphere.

The slice-craft continued on a purely ballistic course until it was safe to pull up and return to home base. It simulated a meteorite perfectly, crashing into the ocean off the shore of a certain rocky island...

Gliders were deployed, and eight perfect wraiths drifted smoothly to ground themselves in the Menelmacari wilderness. They touched down softly, and the shadowsilk gliders folded into the all-purpose backpack sized units each operative wore.

Two hand-signals, and eight individuals broke into the ground-devouring lope of the Fhellant'im. If most of the operatives were not Fhellant'im, well, many of the principles of that group of individuals were part of Directorate Special Training.

These eight men were the result of a strange parallel evolution on a two-gee world.

Earth was a one-gee world.

The method of movement that they used was best described as 'Poinging.'

Soon, they arrived at the first checkpoint, and their pace slowed to a mere jog. As they moved, they pulled free their balaclavas and extracted long dusters from their backpacks. The balaclavas were pocketed and the dusters were slid on.

Thusly, they became 'civilians,' right down to the pointy ears.

Soon, they arrived at the building designated 'Site Shevarresh,' and the dusters were returned to the backpacks, and the balaclavas were pulled back on.

Eight men removed adhesive grapnels from their belts and the slight 'hiss' of the boron monocrystal line flying upwards was the only record of the operation of those instruments.

Soon, the retract toggle was hit, and eight shadows shot upwards. They had a bit of slack left at the end, and they used their current velocity to shoot upwards and over, landing crouched atop the roof.

The pads came free, and the grapnels were returned to the belts.

They darted to the roof access door, and two men took up station on either side of the door, SCR-17 rifles at the ready. One individual darted forward, placing a small disc over the lock. It puffed quietly and a bit of smoke drifted out, and then the door swung open.

The crouched man fell flat onto his belly, and the man on clear-side of the door swung in. His rifle tracked, finding no targets, he motioned forwards. Five individuals followed him in, then the man laying on the ground, then finally the last man at the door.

They were in.

It was time.

'Now, Kazansky...You Bleed.'
Menelmacar
01-09-2004, 05:41
OOC: Couple of problems, Rev... your gliders might successfully pass themselves off as burned-up meteors if they were alone, but, er, they're not. A meteor is not something out of the ordinary. Eight simultaneous ones in a small area, however, very much is. Further, when one does an orbital insertion of troops, one generally does it in a remote area, not over the capital of an interstellar empire. Too many witnesses. Feel free to try again.
Northwestern Liang
01-09-2004, 05:45
Revenge. The word on every one of their grim faces. Seven dwarves and a joint Barazûn-Revenian venture meant the man (or whatever he was, it mattered not) who had led his nation in a futile struggle with the dwarven race would not be walking out of this building again. Except, perhaps, in an urn.

The slicecraft of the second team, super-fast and undetectable, and yet unique, shot down out of the atmosphere more than once, dropping seven gliders into more remote areas of Menelmacar, in an effort to make sure they were not recognized for what they were. Out of the craft came the instruments of retribution for 4,567 dwarven lives. They came before the Revenians, and yet landed further out.

Gliding was not exactly a specialty for the elite group of assasins, and if they’re maneuvering was not as graceful or expert as the Revenians, it was just as efficient. Touching down and compacting the glider into small size, they tread silently, faces betraying nothing, carrying on a conversation on digging techniques, before withdrawing into an abandoned alleyway and donning the gear in which they would avenge their race. Rendesvouing at a previously arranged point, the brisk pace quickly brings them to the building.

Yet again, if their grappling was not as expertly done, (i.e. a few flailing legs that were calmed by nasty looks), it was just as efficient, and the lines draw the compact, muscular beings onto the roof.

Rifles in hand, unique grenades at the side, and an axe-holster on their back, fully ready for the conflict ahead, the dwarves enter the opened door, rifles at the ready, the epitome of silence. The sighting of the Revenian team triggers nothing more than a nod of assent, and adrenaline begins to pour through their veins. A single drop of sweat hits the floor from the leader’s brow, and the black cloak he wears, etched in runes, sways a bit near an AC vent.

The last dwarf closes the door and locks it, more out of habit than anything else, and strokes his beard nervously before the team, in perfectly ordered ranks, being making their way to one Alexander Kazansky, Dwarf-foe, former President of the United States of Allanea.

Dwarves do not forget grievances.
Allanea
01-09-2004, 11:49
OOC: "There were, in fact, rather a lot of bank records linking ABF to Cecil Demented's little film house, as it turned out. 8/20's entire budget had passed through"

I wonder why I don't know anything about that. As far as I know, Cecil's private assets, kept in various off-shore banks, are more than enought to make a low-budged documentary.


OOC2: For general information:

July 10th, 04:08 PM Allaneans arrive at the North Pole (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=256&view=findpost&p=346962)

At this point, the Allanean government has little space forces. A Der Angst ship is hired to send them to Mars

July 10th, 04:10 PMAllanean Government Claims the Pole (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=258&st=0)

Simply put, the Allanean government on Mars sends out it's first message.

July 10th, 04:30PM Ctan Ship Dead Air Arrives at the Pole (http://10thttp://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=259&st=3) Allaneans agree to negotiate, but no actual negotiation occurs.

The ship 'parks' next to the colony's vessel, and the commander claims being there for 'arbitration'. The Allanean Governor send an envoy to go on board the vessel and participate in negotiations. They do not occur

July 11th Zero-One shoots down Knootian civilian ships carrying Allaneans. Allanea does not retaliate (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=265)

July 12th A law is passed, claiming authortiy for the Duma to distribute the land of fallen governemnts (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=271&st=0) Rather obviously, if the law was passed on July 12, it did not exist on July 10th
August 20th

New-Detroit founded (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=312)

Allanean corporation founds city of New-Detroit. 100 Allanean troops are deployed on the pole .

August 20th, 10:25 PM
Liang dwarves attempt to land their vessel directly on top of the Allanean colony. This begins the One-Day War (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_Planet_Mars/index.php?showtopic=312&view=findpost&p=395239)

...which ends by a total occupation of Allanea. The details are already known
The Ctan
01-09-2004, 17:27
The ships stationed above Tareldanorë were quite familiar with Menelmacari security systems, and thus, several hours ago, when the time had come to prompt a few things, they had been ready. The Dead Air had asked them to lay a rather nice set of breadcrumbs, and they had obliged. Working their way in was quite easy, then one of the numerous accounts of the ABF had been altered – the money being slushed off to the Dead Air’s personal account before being retroactively edited to reveal that it had been used to pay for Demeneted’s film. Finally, out of the blue, a payment from an anonymous account was used to restore the balance in Demented’s accounts, and the details of that transfer and the ones used to pay for the film were erased.

In the end, the evidence all said that the ABF had paid for the film, and that Demented had never forked out a penny. They even went so far as to drop some little hints that the ABF’s own records had been tampered with by their operators to make it seem as though the ABF’s own records were fraudulent.
Austar Union
01-09-2004, 17:46
Rumours had spread about the movie through the streets before it had even hit the screens. The day after the official Premier, Peter was reading the reviews of the movie before going there later on in the day with a few friends;

Showing graphical scenes of current day Allanea, the creators and directors seemed to be expecting an emotional result, in favour toward the Allanean people. Actually, not surprisingly, it was seen as only a tool to encourage others to join Allanean leaders-in-exile with their cause.

Unfortunatly, with the current opinions of the general population, most will find this movie little more than a bloody good laugh.
Allanea
01-09-2004, 18:48
Aboard the plane
Nigel picke up the phone.
The other one glanced at him, turning away from the window for a moment.

"Chei, they aborted. The plane is about to turn. This sucks royally. Apparently, all black stuff is on hold."

"I see..." he says, walking over to the Allanean, his posture somehow changed...
Nigel shrugs... "We are now unemployed... and we're probably dead, too. Both of us. We need a way to get out of this thing and to the ground. I know some bad stuff about government B-747's."

"I am dead," he says quite simply, "do you intend to continue to the target?"

"The plane is a huge UVAV. Excepting the waitresses, we're the only people on board. I don't care about the target. I want to LIVE."

"I see. Is there any way to reprogram its navigational systems?"

"If we had a way to break through the safety wall that separates us from the control cabin... we might. It doesn't have any standard USB links, as far as I know. We either bail out or die."

He doesn't even bother to answer, instead marching off toward the cabin, to see if there's a way into its control systems. Out of curiosity, a part of his mind wonders about the waitresses, who are probably destined to die. It would, were he capable of understanding the concept, amuse him that he might in fact, be trying to save their lives.

In the meanwhile, Nigel is struggling with escape hatch.

Then the plane crashes into the pacific ocean. Further investigation show a software glitch that caused it's destruction.
The Ctan
01-09-2004, 19:40
Of course, stopping an Imperial Assassin is harder than that...
The Ctan
01-09-2004, 20:04
After a gruelling and unpleasant swim, the assassin appeared on the coastline of Allanea, much the worse for wear. His hair was especially bedraggled, having lost its ornate ‘do in the wash, and his clothes were practically torn to shreds. He decided that his first priority was to acquire fresh clothing, possibly disguising himself as one of the local primitives. As he did so with cold efficiency, stealing from those who already had next-to-nothing, he gave thanks to the assorted advanced devices that had allowed him to survive the fall when he had realised that escape from the Allanean aircraft was impossible, and he had been forced to… make an exit for himself…

He was quite good at making an entrance too.
Revenia
01-09-2004, 22:11
Severian nodded as the dwarves formed up behind his men, then, communicating in silent hand signals, his team went into motion. Sev dashed forward, flanked by two men. He reached an intersection and dove forwards, the men flanking him sweeped to the side.

He came up on one knee, a sleek, lethal pistol in either hand. They were slightly different, the one in his right was a bit bigger than the one in his left. He carried, in his right, a RevTek APSP (All-Purpose Stealth Pistol), currently carrying a load of ten darts carrying a payload of paralytic agent.

His offhand weapon was a custom-built dart shooter, carrying the same number of darts, with the same agent.

The intersection was clear, and he rose slowly, the pistols vanishing from his hands. Nobody knew how he did it, and he wasn't about to explain his favorite trick.

His team formed up on him, each now carrying a weapon in hand. Two men with SCR-17 Stealth Combat Rifles, one man, a Corporal Mephistopheles Rogers, whose parents had had a rather sick sense of humor, had, upon his back, the amazingly accurate SSR-10 Sniper's Rifle. In his hand, he carried an APSP. Four individuals carried a suppressed carbine version of the SCR-17.

Sev spotted the elevators and signalled. The team formed up, and the same man who'd opened the roof access door crouched in front of the elevator door. He placed a pair of devices on the doors, then twitched a dial on either one, and they slid open.

He spotted the power line, and a quick slash of a utility knife delt it a fatal blow, disabling the elevator.

The team moved out, then, systematically sweeping the top floor, their weapons were toggled to fire tranq darts, and any resistance was dealt with quickly and effectively.
Northwestern Liang
01-09-2004, 22:55
Hjor Bloodaxe nodded his head thoughtfully and moved forward. The dwarven team moved precisely, cautiously, expertly.

If the Revenians had been training with them all their lives they could not have looked more fully cohesive and integrated with their erstwhile partners. They used the same tranquilizing method as the Revenians; the dwarves had no quarrel with Noldor; in fact there had long been a friendship between the two peoples. Tranquilizers were all they would use on the elven ones. Allaneans, on the other hand….were not so lucky. A quick deliverance to the god of annihilation was the best the former government members might hope for.

All before them was left in crumpled heaps on the floor as the ruthless advance continued, the soft thud of falling bodies the only sound it made. Any attempt by Kazansky to escape was futile, as all levels of the building were covered.

All potential exits were cut off. The Maia had no room for escape as Ascended and Dwarf closed the ring, growing ever closer to their target. The fate in store for him was, to say the least, not very pretty.

They restrained themselves from going too fast. Adrenaline rushes were at a peak, and a few nasty looks from Bloodaxe meant the dwarves maintained a cautious pace, even if they were all too eager to gain sight of their quarry.

The tiny blueprint of the area guiding them, they move always low to the ground (even lower than usual, for the tallest of them was only four and a half foot).

In ancient times, a single Elf, with sword and armor, had struck down a mighty Balrog Maia. Fifteen of the most trained modern warriors of the world might have just as much good luck.
Allanea
01-09-2004, 23:02
As the first Liangese approached, a gunshot sounded. What they have failed to account for was that the building was full to the roof with Allaneans. (OOC: Look at the national anthem! The flag!). Every room was a battle, every corridor a firing zone. THe guards - ex-Ted Nugent Warbikers, any of them as good a soldier as the the dwarves, rushed to man their positions.
Revenia
01-09-2004, 23:38
Sev's smile grew as he saw the first Allanean. Those sleek dart pistols seemingly appeared in his hands, and he shot the first one in the carotid artery.

His left pistol hummed, and another dart was hurled down the barrel, taking a second 'Ted Nugent Warbiker' in the left eyeball.

You see, Major Severian Stark wasn't your average Directorate Operative. He was one of the elite operatives referred to by the acronym 'RASP,' which stood for Revenian Agent, Special Purpose.

Fifteen men and women, the best special operatives in the Supremacy, and Sev Stark was the best of them all.

Each RASP Operator had a team of seven personnel to support him. These men and women were the best of the Directorate special troopers, and they had one thing the 'Ted Nugent Warbikers,' could never, ever, ever match.

They had experience.

You see, each one of those operatives had a few things in common, silver hair and silver eyes. All eight of them were Halfling Ascended, and the youngest of those eight individuals was Xanthos Del'Riva at 5200 years of age.

The minute the ex-warbikers opened fire, six thumbs hit six toggles, and the six men operatives armed with SCR-17 variants were no longer firing tranquilizer darts.

The powerful linear accelerators in those combat rifles propelled 10mm explosive slugs downrange at hypersonic velocities. They moved from cover to cover, tracer grenades were tossed into rooms like frizbees.

Those grenades were favorites of Revenian Special Forces. They were small disks fitted with a tiny induction drive and a fragmentation charge. When they sensed hostile life in the immediate area, that charge was detonated. If there wasn't any immediate threat, then they dropped to the ground.

Upon the arrival of hostile life, they did an excellent impersonation of a vietnam-era 'bouncing betty.'
--
Sev smiled grimly as he hit the mag release on his pistols, the polymer mags hit the ground and he dropped his pistols to his sides, clicking in the ready 10-rounds. Immediately, the pistols rose.

They still fired darts. Except those darts were now osmium penetrators.

The linear accelerators in Sev's Pistols were just as powerful as those of the SCR-17 variants, they simply couldn't fire as quickly. Of course, that was kinda obvious.

A bullet twanged off his body armor, and he gave silent thanks to the people who developed the ISBA 'Sneaksuit.'

The Warbiker who'd fired the shot was soon dispatched, courtesy of Mephistopheles Rogers and his APSP.

The Revenians were masters of person-to-person battle. The Directorate Operatives of Strike Team Severance were masters of High-Intensity Low-Threat environments like this.

It bloody well showed.
Northwestern Liang
01-09-2004, 23:49
Hjor Bloodaxe never missed a beat. From the time he was moving in to the time the Allaneans foolishly began firing, his movement never abated. Neither did the precise advance of the seven most elite warriors in the entire Domain.

Warbikers? Despicable. Allanean Soldiers who hadn't seen true combat for many years, facing the cream of the dwarven race. There was no comparison.

The thudding of thick rounds through hearts and foreheads was constant. Hjor took only one shot at each Allanean. It was enough; he never missed a shot, and neither did the six answering shots from his team.

When the Allaneans came in force, a fragmentation grenade in their midst was usually quite enough to end the silly notion of strength in numbers. Atleast in congested hallways.

When the bumbling, inexperienced Allaneans (for these dwarves were well into their third century) managed to get lucky, the hardened, reinforced mithril armor that was beneath their cloaks, aided by rune-magic, was more than enough to make it completely harmless. Everything had been taken into account, everything had been thought of. The advance continued.

The battleaxes at their sides were entirely unused. Situation dictated it. The time for such weapons was not now. Perhaps later...but now now.

And so the whirling hurricane that was the assasination attempt left little carnage in its wake. Instead, neat piles of one-shot-killed Allaneans dotted their progress, as they moved toward their target at a quickening (yet still cautious to the point that ambushes were impossible) pace.
Allanea
02-09-2004, 00:11
The Warbiker laughed as three rounds bounced off his own personal armour. Then, the cyberenhancements in his brain and spine kicked it, accelerating his reflexes to a rate known only to computers and cyberenhanced humans. To him, the dwarves became slow... very slow... slow enough for him to take four of them down with perfect head shots before he went down.

Another man took two with depleted uranium slugs from his rifle before the shrapnel ripped his body apart.

Another dwarf died when a surprise shot, fired through an office door, hit him in the neck. And so it went...

OOC: Pointlessly. Kazansky is not in the building.
Northwestern Liang
02-09-2004, 00:20
OOC: Interesting. There are only six dwarves, elite, moving through selected hallways. You just told me most of my team is dead. Not to gripe, bitch, or moan or anything, but you called my losses. They aren't dead, and I don't want to see any godmodding. I have my doubts as well whether Siri would allow large numbers of augmented, power-armored, elite soldiers in her compound. (I thought you were modern-tech, as well?)

Question: Where is Kazansky, then?
Knootoss
02-09-2004, 00:31
--------------------
AIVD HQ
Knootian intelligence
--------------------
"Well it seems there are already plenty of people out to kill them"
"Yeah. Lets get some more popcorn."
~Random conversation
Aelosia
02-09-2004, 00:40
OOC: I'll tag this one. I'm tempted to send an assassin to help the team trying to waste Kazansky, but I need the Menelmacari permission first...
Autonomous City-states
02-09-2004, 00:57
The Secretary-General read with disgust as one of the capital's many electronic newspapers scrolled a preview of the Allanean propaganda movie. "Those people aren't capitalists... they're imperialists," he said bitterly.

According to the preview, the impending film had already garnered something of a cult following among fringe elements of the City-states' society - but was widely rejected by the national cinema chains as being unprofitable and too political. Only a few private theaters planned to show the Allanean "absurdity," as one reviewer put it. One said the film was a fantasy fit for the "deconstructionist crowd" that was eager to see it.

The Autonomous City-states had largely ignored the Allanean "problem" up until this point, being far too busy with local matters, the McLeodian civil war, and the Uranus Commonwealth Initiative. The normally reserved Secretary-General seemed to have been agitated by reading the preview and the intel services' update on the happenings in Menelmacar. He immediately called up his staff over the vidlink.

"Send out a standard communique to the nations involved in the Allanean occupation. Tell them that, for what it's worth, we recognize the Federation of Sentient Peoples as the legitimate authority in Allanea until a truly representative government can be formed," the Sec-Gen said to his Undersecretary of State.

"The so-called Allaneans for a Better Future are to be barred entry to Federation territories under our non-aggression laws upon penalty of arrest and extradition to the Sentient Peoples. Make it happen. I want our position to be crystal clear," he then said to his Chief of Staff and Undersecretary of Defense.

Within an hour, the security services had known members of AFB added to their watch list and the Undersecretary of State transmitted the Secretary-General's message and policy.
Allanea
02-09-2004, 01:14
OOC: The film is not out yet.
Autonomous City-states
02-09-2004, 01:25
OOC: Apologies. I was under the impression it had been released to those who would watch it already, from the responses to this thread. Edited as necessary.
Austar Union
02-09-2004, 03:03
Laughing, most of the intelligence board carried on with their weekly meeting. The room was strangely dark, most people's faces slightly being affected by dark shadows. Still, the repairman had been called in to fix the lights. Hopefully the staff wouldnt have to put up with it for much longer. A room lit by lamps was not such a bright room;

"Well, I have a brief that several assasin teams are after that old President of Allanea. I think his name was Alexander Kazansky, but I dont quite remember. It has been a long time..." reported one young looking man.

The board erupted into chuckle, until a young woman decided to speak up, "I have heard of the situation, and I honetly dont think our involvement is nessasary. I mean, why in the world would some four assasin teams need our assistance to take down that fool?"

The man responded quickly, a smile coming across his face, "Oh I didnt know that you would think that was my intention. I just thought the board was getting too serious lately. I think its time we introduce some damn good humour."
Revenia
02-09-2004, 05:28
Xanthos Del'Riva looked up and swore in anger. One word cut through the violence, one word triggered an immediate reaction, that word, was "Abort."

Eight Revenians grabbed seven dwarves and hurled themselves out the windows, their gliders deployed like great wings of black, and they swooped away.

The faint golden glow of the Induction Drive units activated, and the gliders began to speed up rapidly. Almost too rapidly. It was a good thing the Revenians were two-gee adapted and the dwarfs, were, well, dwarfs...otherwise they might have gone unconcious...and that would have been a bad thing.
Menelmacar
02-09-2004, 05:33
"We've got a lot of gunfire around here," came the report. "Someone's shooting up the tower, upper floors, mostly."

One half-kilometer to the southeast, among the warehouses of the Allanean arms cache, Force Leader Inglórion of the MIDF Twelfth Auxiliary Field Army's Nineteenth Armored Phalanx sighed... behind him he had no more gravtanks - no more were needed - but there were several IFV's full of soldiers, brought as backup just in case the Allaneans did not come quietly.

"Confirmed," he replied... he zoomed in on the building using the HUD on his helmet's face shield, and indeed there were flashes of gunfire inside the upper-floor windows, at least as could be seen in darkened rooms. "Wait, something just jumped out the windows... there, again." Inglórion thought quickly. If the fleeing individuals were Allaneans, his orders provided for any force necessary to prevent escape. If they were not, then they were certainly not Menelmacari (as no aggressive attack had been planned), and thus they should not be there at all - which made them open targets in any case. "All forces, track and fire at will!"

Anti-personnel cannons on turrets, and searchlights, were elevated, doors opened and soldiers unloaded, scanning the sky with plasma rifles ready... as luck would have it, the gliders would pass almost directly overhead.... and so they did, through a veritable wall of plasma fire.
Sentient Peoples
02-09-2004, 05:50
Allaneans for a Better Future Tower, Vinyatírion, ENEM

Morfindel was not slow on the uptake at all. The heavy weapons fire from the basement was part of the plan, but the gunshots above them were not.

Blurring with the speed of her motion, her hand darted inside her robes, and she regretted wearing them for a moment, despite trying to fit in with the Menelmacari delegation. The robes were just so bulky. But they hid the body armor quite well.

But for the last five hundred years, Morfindel had practiced with different types of weapons, until she could draw anything with the speed of a striking viper, literally invisible to the human eye.

And, so, from her relaxed stance one second, slumping slightly under the weight of her armor, she was suddenly standing straight, legs spread slightly for balance, and her pulse pistol extended in front of her in a two handed grip. In that instant, she noticed a number of things.

She was on solid shot, 4mm rounds traveling at nearly three kilometers a second, the selector was set to five round bursts, and the aim point of the wicked looking gun was on the Allanean secretary’s chest, slightly to the left of the sternum and just above the sixth rib.
Revenia
02-09-2004, 06:04
Sev's team was taking fire, and there wasn't a damn thing ANYBODY could do about it. Even worse, they couldn't retaliate. His orders were to prevent ANY Menelmacari casualties. Now, if only somebody had told the elves to do the same for him...

Somebody done fucked up, and good. And Somebody was gonna PAY!

Then, there was no time to think, only to react.

When the gliders emerged from the killing zone, there were only two left. Sev behind the crisped bodies of six heroic Revenians and five heroic dwarves, including young Xanthos Del'Riva.

He denied himself the tears, and Sev headed for the rendezvous at increasing speed, with Mephistopheles Rogers and his passenger holding formation at his right wing.

The mid-air rendezvous was perfect, the slice-craft's ballistic trajectory intercepted the glider's at exactly the right point, and they merged flawlessly. The quick, stealthy little slice-craft carried its cargo of two Revenians and two dwarves to the small rocky island that had been the destination of the previous slice craft.
---
The ramp was lowered, and Sev, Meph, and the two dwarves stumbled down it. They touched ground, and Sev looked up to see a man in a suit jogging towards them.

"Hi, I'm Jim Smith, I was your intel planner and handled all aspects of your mission. Special Assignment from the Council, Councilwoman Wister's authority!"

Sev's eyes narrowed, and the last thing Jim Smith ever saw was the warblade strapped to Severian Stark's back leap to his right hand, and arc forward.

Jim Smith's head rolled, and kept rolling, until it hit the boots of a tall man in military uniform.

"Hello, Major Stark. Welcome to Derallia, I'm General Martin Schwartz. Warprince Stark sent a message for you."

The general handed Sev a datpad, and he browsed it. As he reached the end, his eyes narrowed predatorily.

"It may not be today, Kazansky, it may not be tomorrow, but I will see you dead."
Menelmacar
02-09-2004, 06:29
Young Mr. Smith's mistake, of course - well, aside from introducing himself to Sev - was not clearing the mission with Menelmacar in advance. As it was, the eleven broken, crispy bodies lying on the pavement amid the ruins of their gliders were quickly located and recovered.

"Damn... six humans, five dwarves, it looks like," Inglórion noted as he surveyed the scene. "Who the hell were they?" This was indeed the question. There would be an investigation on Menelmacar's part, of course... autopsies would be conducted, even though the cause of death was ridiculous-obvious, other things about them might be learned that were not so obvious. Their effects would also be traced as best as possible - though not going outside Menelmacar, really.

It was likely whoever they were, they were on a very black operation indeed... the chance they would be interred in home soil depended entirely on their government(s?). Whether they owned up to the operation, and what their tone was in diplomatic discourse afterwards. But one thing was certain - the decision that Menelmacar did not need to know had caused the deaths of eleven probably-good people.
Allanea
02-09-2004, 11:52
OOC: Interesting. There are only six dwarves, elite, moving through selected hallways. You just told me most of my team is dead. Not to gripe, bitch, or moan or anything, but you called my losses. They aren't dead, and I don't want to see any godmodding. I have my doubts as well whether Siri would allow large numbers of augmented, power-armored, elite soldiers in her compound. (I thought you were modern-tech, as well?)

Question: Where is Kazansky, then?

Interesting. I remember you describing one-shot kills of dozens of Allaneans. My tech level is 2020 (think Cyberpunk, 2020).

Answer: In Feanor Palace.
Northwestern Liang
02-09-2004, 21:51
Yes, because you had a very large number of unspecified personnel. These can be easily replaced at any time with reinforcements. You see now the difference? Technically yes, but killing a single soldier among hundreds of replaceable ones is generally not as bad as claiming to wipe out most of one's team in a single post. Now, of course, you may still find this unacceptable. In which case I shan't do it again. Moving on.
IC

Ruri and Kili. Two of the most elite dwarves in the world, and the last remnants of what was supposed to have been dwarven retribution. Falling to their knees, tearing their beards, and crying out in Khuzdul, the dwarves beat the ground in a display of absolutely shameless mourning, with no regards to to the Revenians near them.

Oh yes, the Noldor would find their bodies. As the full details of the nigh-on disastrous expedition became known to Andvari, he repeated, in his far-off Martian camp, the behavior of the two broken dwarves. To leave a good dwarf unburied was a great travesty...but how to make sure they received a proper burial, in the stone of the earth? This quandary pursued the Uzbad of the Red Land in his sleep. During the day he did nothing but watch international news for signs of the fallen warriors.

The Intelligence member responsible for the disaster? He was simply dismissed, corporal punishment was rarely common among the dwarves, but as everyone knew he would, the disgraced official ended his life soon after.

Had the grievance been forgotten? Oh, surely not. There were more assasins right at Ruri and Kili's level, but right now the best course of action seemed to be to regroup. An intelligence blunder of massive proportions had saved Kazansky's life once. Luck was certainly no friend of the Allaneans, and Andvari was confident she would not touch the forsaken people again. Forgotten? No, simply delayed.
Revenia
02-09-2004, 23:49
Severian Stark and Mephistopheles Rogers stood at attention. They were deep within the caverns that made up Derallia, specifically, the cavern that housed the Revenian Enclave.

The man standing before them was tall, with silver-blonde hair and quicksilver eyes. He wore a loose black tunic, pants, boot, and cape. A thin circlet of silver rested upon his brow.

He was Dysaryn Stark, Warprince of Revenia, and he was completely, utterly, and entirely Pissed.

"Bloody Hell, Sev, you mean to tell me that somehow Rebekka Wister managed to weasel her little political dog into a supervision position for Directorate Black Division? FOR BLOODY RASP TEAMS?"

Sev nodded, slowly.

The Warprince paced back and forth in front of them, his anger was almost a palpable force.

"So, Rebekka Wister has managed, in one foul swoop, to not only royally screw up an Op, but also to kill six of our best operatives, including Xanthos Del'Riva, whose Brother -I- will have the to break the news to. Further, she has managed to threaten diplomatic relations with a nation that has a fleet Directly NEXT DOOR to Nexus. Did I miss Anything, Sev?"

The Operator winced, "She also killed five dwarves, Sir."

Dysaryn stopped his pacing and nodded, "Yes, that slipped my mind."

He scowled, "and do you know the worst thing, Sev?"

Sev shook his head, "Uhm, no, sir."

Dysaryn turned to look into Severian's eyes, the manic rage was almost visible in his eyes.

"There isn't a damn thing I, or anyone else, can do about it. It sickens me, Sev. We do not live in a democracy, we do not live in a republic. We should be able to deal with people like Councilwoman Wister, but we can't."

Dysaryn turned, and slammed his hand down on the room's table. If it hadn't been mil-spec, just like everything in Derallia was, it would have shattered. As it was, the thick steel merely dented.

"Of course, policy must be followed. Luckily, this time, policy doesn't require me to lie."

He sighed, and walked around the desk, sitting down in front of the terminal. He began to type...
----

TO: Government of the Eternal Noldari Empire of Menelmacar, Vinyatirion, Menelmacar.
FROM: His Grace Sir Dysaryn Stark, Prince Celestian, Warprince of Revenia, Revenian Enclave, Derallia.
SUBJ: Recent Terrorist Actions in Menelmacar.

-Message Begins-

It has come to my attention that a group of individuals recently made a covert insertion into Menelmacar, staged and aborted an assassination attempt against one Alexander Kazansky, and then fled for parts unknown.

I have learned, with great sorrow and horror, that this operation originated partially in my own country.

The operation was a Revenian Intelligence Directorate initiative that had been approved, pending the agreement of the country in which the operation would take place, obviously, Menelmacar itself. Something went horribly wrong.

Individuals within the government of the Supremacy ensured that the Diplomatic Service never even knew of this operation, thus, no contact was ever made. They then passed the word on, tapping a team to carry it out.

Inquisitorial Personnel are currently investigating the matter, and it is my firm belief that the traitors -will- be caught, and will be dealt with. Harshly.

As such, I, Warprince Dysaryn Stark, acting with the full authority of the Granite Throne, do hereby issue a formal apology for the part our people played in this highly terroristic act.

Madelis Tirag,
Sir Dysaryn Stark, Warprince of Revenia.
Northwestern Liang
03-09-2004, 00:37
The Red Dawn of Mars awakened Andvari, as goose bumps made the profuse amount of hair he had stand up straight. No, he would not be responsible for two sacrilegious acts in one lifetime. The incineration of dwarves in the first fight with the Allaneans and now the loss of five more to unwitting Noldorin gunners. No, the dwarves must be given a proper burial.

But could he do it without lying through his teeth? To the other nations on Mars, finding out that the newest colony in their region had sent an illegal team of assasins into another Martian nation's capital might leave more than a small stain on Barazûn's reputation. On the other hand...anonymously...yes, that might work. And so the Uzbad of the Red Land got to work on his latest missive.

A short while later, the Menelmacari Empire would receive an anonymous request that the fallen dwarves be buried in the stone of the Earth, in the proper dwarven manner. As well as a generous anonymous bank transfer to more than cover any expenses.