NationStates Jolt Archive

It is said that uprisings never take place when things are really tough for a nation. They take place when the situation begins to improve - never fast enough for the expectations of the disgruntled.

Perfection, Aissur. Allanea

It was a small town, McPherson thought. Just big enough for it's new role - a role many of it's inhabitants have never planned for. However, over sixty percent of the people in the town have not yet regain their jobs during the One-Day War, and the fact that the others already had jobs did not make them feel any better. In fact, it made them even more susceptible to Peter McPherson's plan.

Many of them were already convinced by his agents to join it, and many more would when it started.

He smiled as he saw three BTR-80 armoured vehicles - ordered by his group from the local Crookfur Arms Factory - roll up to the entrance to the local Mulligan bank branch. A few long, llong bursts of automated cannon fire, and it was over. The submachineguns of the bank guards never had a chance - and the manager never got to his rifle.

At the same time, disgruntled union workers stormed the office of the manager of the nearby copper mine.

Several hours later, the following broadcasting was transmitted to the world:

"This is Peter McPherson, General Secretary of the Socialist Workers Party of Allanea!

We have a force of about 40,000 troops. We control the area around Perfection. As citizens and workers of Allanea, we demand:

An amendment to the constitution to allow a graduated income tax, inheritance tax, property tax;

Government-mandated federal socialized healthcare.

Government-mandated federal minimum wage law,

and a government mandated fuel economy act.

We are in possession of certain amount of capitalist criminals: bankers, lawyers, and exploiters. We will soon begin trying them for their crimes and executing them. However, if our demands are met, we, as representatives of the will of Allanea's workers, will pardon them."

Tag

Pledges its support of the workers uprising and shall recognize the forming of the new goverment.

OOC: This was in another thread, but posting it here will work

IC:

Act One: Conjuring the Storm

Within Thelas the preparations began for the Seventh fleet to set sail and travel to the area near Allanea, it would be several days until the fleet arrived, yet this operation had to be gotten going.

Soon the Thelasi war-fleet slipped out of dock and headed into space. On their mission log it was stated that they were going on a routine training mission, yet the crews could tell by the way the ships were stocked that things were much different. The massive armor penetrating nuclear rounds had been loaded onto the ship, and the sub-space torpedoes had also been loaded.

Fighters had been given new ammunition and torpedoes designed for anti-starship duty. Some even were equipped with rockets for fighter-to-fighter combat.

The crews could tell, this was not a training mission.

Condemns the reckless actions of the disgruntled rabble.

Perfecton, Allanea

Long machinegun bursts rang out as the employees of Mulligan bank fell into a ditch. Then, a bulldozer covered them with a thin layer of soil and went over it several times.

Announcement of the General Secretary of the Allanean Socialist Workers'

This is what happens when you disregard the will of the workers. We are advancing in the direction of the city of Muhosransk. Obey the will of the workers or perish!

Port-Allanea

Soldiers were getting into their powered armour and running towards trucks, Stephen Harper AV-6 craft, and helicopters. A war was coming.

The Soviet State of Hrstrovokia pledges it's support to the uprising in Allanea and will assist the workers in this great battle in anyway possible. May the Red flag fly long over Perfection!!

*Royal Residence, Allanea*

King Napoleon sat in his winged leather arm chair sipping a snifter of cognac as he lazily thumbed through the yellowed pages of a history book. "The American Civil War." he read aloud. Raising the glass to his lips he took a sip, contemplating the words.

'Not a Civil War' he mused to himself, 'because that necessitates having infighting within one country. There were two governments and two separate countries. It was a war of aggression against a peaceful people who merely wished to be left alone.' he closed the book, placing it gingerly upon the table. 'These people don't want peace...they want death." he glanced at the images on the television screen of the mass graves.

The Allanean Divisions of the Imperial Guard and the Newly mobilized and created Royal Guard of Allanea had gathered for an attack on Perfection earlier in the day but an entire battalion of 500 mutinied and went on a rampage, killing thousands without warning. It was a sleeper placed in the army by the Communists. The Army was in chaos, barely holding the communists back.

"The Military commanders have failed." Napoleon sat down his glass, now firmly resolved that this was the only course of action. "Now I must take command."

"General Gillot!" he called out into the hall. A thin, middleaged man with a handlebar mustache stumbled in the door almost immediately. "Yes, your highness?" exclaimed the exasperated Gillot. He had been trying all day to coordinate the Army. Clearly the attempts had failed.

"Get on the phone, Gillot, and tell the generals that I will be taking command. I need a car here to take me to the front in 5 minutes." Gillot looked simultaeneously worried and relieved. Worried for his King's safety, but relieved that help was on the way.
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Per the orders of the King, 20,000 Imperial Guardsmen from the Empire proper arrived around the outskirts of Communist Controlled Perfection to shore up the lines. It was half of the Lignum Crucis Armoured Division. As they deployed, the Royal Airforce flew overhead, launching precision strikes on the Communist's forward positions while King Napoleon was in transit to the forwardmost position of the Royalist Armies.
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OOC: Thelas, stay out of this for now. If you want to fight me, we can fight later. This is a story that I'm working on. If you want to play a smaller role, fine, but I don't want a fullblown enemy invasion right now.

Royalist Army Outpost

Alexander Kazansky, the former Allanean president, smiled as he approached the King, wearing a pilot's uniform.

Above him, Ann Coulter fighter-bombers tore through the sky towards perfection.

"Good day, Your Majesty", says the man who has created Allanea. "I know of the bounty on my head. It is not now important. At all cost, we must save Allanea from the communist menace. As it is now, I think you must announce my presence here, to break the morale of the communists. THen, I will fight under your command - I can fight as an infantryman, pilot, anything. Then, you may imprison me, or try me - for whatever crimes the Emperor suspects me of. Now, my duty is with my country."


* * * * *

In Perfection

Muhosransk was captured. Of course, unlike in the Socialist propaganda, it was not a city, but a small hamlet, with a population of 18. Still, those 18 people were - like most Allaneans - well enough armed to kill off some of McPherson's troops.

He gloated as he heard of the mutiny in the Royalist ranks - at least this would slow them down some. In the meanwhile, his prisoners were digging anti-tank ditches, trenches, foxholes to create a system of defenses around Perfection.

Message from Comrade McPherson to Hrstrovokia

Thank you for your moral support. Will there be any assistance beyond that?

Comrade McPherson, we are prepared to equip your fighters with whatever weapons you need. Aside from that, we feel that sending military forces to assist you would only escalate the situation beyond your control. We will deploy Crimson Guard Special Forces should the battle turn sour, but this is ultimately all we are prepared to do right now.

We are yet to see widespread support for the uprising in Allanea, which is vital for success. While we realize that a successful uprising hinges on support from the outside world, we believe that the new Government's life would be short unless it has the support of the Allanean people. Prove this to us, and our support will never end.

President / General Secretary Sean Matthews

"My Lord Warprince, we have just received reports of a socialist uprising within Allanea..."

Harm Coldfist, Baron Frostwatch and Director of the Revenian Intelligence Directorate was a ruthless man. He displayed this ruthlessness in all aspects of his life, both as the leader of the Shield Party among the council, and as the head of the much-feared Directorate.

The report he had compiled and transmitted contained all the relevant information, and normally just the report would have been sent. However, Allanea had the dubious honor of being under watch by the Directorate, and so, Harm himself had commed the Warprince to make sure that that exalted official was aware of the report's existence.

Which he now was.

Dysaryn Stark browsed the report with a speed born of long experience browsing similiar reports. Directorate intelligence reports were quite different from intelligence briefs. Reports contained exhaustive information on a subject, in this case, the subject was: the socialist uprising in Allanea.

Dysaryn nodded once, "Thank you, Harm."

The steel-eyed Director of Intelligence cut the channel, and Dysaryn frowned. On the one hand, a succesful socialist uprising might postpone any Allanean action that involved certain locales within the Revenian sphere of influence indefinately...on the other hand...

This was Allanea they were talking about. Socialists -had- to be in the minority. Meaning that any Socialist regime would be a minority government, and knowing Allaneans, that would require some doing.

Now, Dysaryn had a particular distaste for Allanea as a whole...but in the end they were just people. Unlucky people, yes. People ruled by fanatics, yes. People who took things to extreme, definately. But still, in the end, people.

In the end, the decision was made. 'Internal Affair. Operations as normal.'

King Napoleon looked sqaure in Kazansky's eyes. "It's a good thing you came to me first." he placed his hand on Kazansky's shoulder. "You need to be kept safe. We cannot have you fight...and we cannot have you appear in public or every country in the world will draw their sword to attack us. This will make a bad situation much worse. The best thing you can do for your people is help me. Advise me of things I don't know which you obviously would. But other than that, we will need to keep your presence secret and the fact that you are even alive doubly secret."

Napoleon turned away and stared out the window of the forward headquarters...stared at the plumes of smoke billowing from the little hamlet and indeed from the city of Perfection itself.

Outside of the headquarters, an estate owned by a former corporate mogul who was killed during the FSP occupation, 15,000 Allanean Imperial Guardsmen stood ready to enter the fray. They were in perfectly straight columns in the vast lawn stretching out behind the mansion. Napoleon stepped out onto the balcony, took a quick glance at Kazansky urging him to stay behind and walked out into the vision of the crowd.

An enormous cheer errupted from the Soldiers as they chanted, "God Save The King!".

'How fickel.' Napoleon thought to himself. 'If Kazansky were out here, I'd be nothing...but if Kazansky WERE out here...the entire country would be nothing...within the hour every nation would be lobbing shells at us.'

"Men of the 1st Allanean Division of the Imperial Guard." he called them out. Immediately the men fell silent. "You were the very first men to sign up, and you have seen more service than any other unit. You have shown yourselves also to be the bravest single unit in the entire damned country. It is for this that I bestow upon your division, a name. This is one of the utmost honours as you shall be the only named Allanean Division in the Guard. You are hereby christened the AVF, the Allanean Volunteer Force. In the tradition of the great loyalist fighters in Northern Ireland, the UVF, you shall bear the badge with a red hand upon it and dress yourselves in black. You shall swear by your badge, your rifle, and your King to uphold this country and fight for your home!" some of the men felt the badges on their breast, while others merely contemplated the history.

"We will not let these rebel scum destroy our land!" the King shouted. "We will find everylast one of them and impale them on their own bayonets if we have to!"

He leaned forward with a more serious tone, "Make no mistake about it, if you let these men win, they will kill everyone you love and hold dear. They will kill you too. If we lose here today, it is possible that the great light of Freedom, tended by Allanea, may be putout by the rising sea of red."

He leaned back, sticking out his chest a bit. "I will be with you. I leave this palace the second you do, I am going with you to save our country!!!"

The men burst into another raucous cheer as Napoleon turned around and walked back inside.

"Kazansky, my good man. Let's get a map." he smiled.

Kamadhatu offers assistance in negotiations

Prabha (KNS) – Hoping to help avert a bloodbath in Allanea, Foreign Minister Deepak Chopra offered his assistance to both government and opposition leaders in that country in a speech delivered to the annual conference of the Kamadhatu Proctological Union and Dinner Club in Sunya yesterday.

Socialists, led by Peter McPherson, General Secretary of the Socialist Workers Party of Allanea, have been engaged in an uprising against the government of King Napolean, and the conflict has drawn considerable support to both sides from around the world.

“This sort of outside influence has just the ability to blow the conflict into even greater consequences,” Chopra told conference attendees. “We have a moral obligation to do everything we can to give each side a chance to attain peace without bloodshed.”

Chopra has offered to travel to Allanea to meet with leaders from both sides, and has pledged to stay there as long as it takes to bring about a peaceful resolution to the conflict.

Prime Minister E.S. Cirettekrub has recently offered to help negotiate peace in two other conflicts, but has received no responses from any of the parties engaged. Currently, Sevaris and Dyelli Beybi are both in the midst of violent conflicts that show no sign of abating. The prime minister expressed “deep regret” Sunday that none of the parties involved have taken up his offer to moderate their disagreements.

In related news, the Foreign Ministry has cautioned citizens of Kamadhatu from traveling to any of these countries as the office regards them as too dangerous to safely visit in their current circumstances.

“Besides, Bimini is so much nicer this time of year anyway,” Deputy Foreign Minister announced at a press conference in Prabha.

Kazansky smiled: "Worry not, Your Majesty. I am not plotting a challenge to your rule. As to the issue, look.

He unrolled a map.

"What you must understand that most of the forces they have is not in the city itself. According to the rumours that are spread around, about three-quarters of their force are in forests nearby, and indeed they have units hidden from sight in the coal mines near Perfection. Apparently, they are collecting tramps of the worst kind into their rank, down to the vilest scum possible. But I digress.

Your majesty, the communist thugs do not, and cannot have uniform control of that portion of Allanea. There's quite a few locals who are fighting them. But this McPherson fellow is making it appear otherwise - remember how he called Muhosransk a "city"? He realizes well that power perceived is power achieved. This is why he is trying to make it appear as if he actually rules something more significant than a small town. The fools who are attracted to him are befuddled by his broadcast, driven desperate by poverty, and actually believe he can win. Most of them are uneducated and near-illiterate, and probably have been that way befor the War.

And this is what we will base our strike on. We will use the Ann Coulter Mark III craft for it. My suggestion is that we use those craft to basically wipe that hamlet off the face of the earth - the owners are probably dead already, knowing how communists act. It will grant no tactical advantage to us, but it will be an immense show of force. The more overkill, the better.

Further, we must offer some benefits - say, shelter, clothing, food - to whoever surrenders. We must make it clear to the poor sodes deceived by that McPherson, that if they give up, we will forgive them. If they do not, the only fate that will await them is the one carried on the wings of our Coulters.

Of course, McPherson and his officers would not be forgiven. "

Kazansky smiled knowingly.

* * * *

In Perfection

McPherson smiled with glee. His force was growing -45,000 already - and with it, his holdings. Despite the pressure the Empire was applying to him, he took over two more "cities", although at some grave losses to his troops - the owner of one of the hamlets had a belt-fed machinegun and knew how to use it.

He looked at his underlings:

"Comrades! This is going to be the next step. We will send out about 5,000 men in small, five-man units. They will harass enemy and procure food and valuables for us.With a thousands of small units constantly pricking it, the Imperial guard won't be able to stand up to us and will fall apart."

"Yes, Comrade!" said the men, as they rushed to conitnue with the General Secretary's plan.

Given the composition of the socialist uprisings enemies, Hrstrovokia has decided to formally recognize Aissur (where the rebellion is located) as an independent state and will assist Aissur militarily with intervention forces from the RRF [Rapid Reaction Force] Kommand should that state desire so.

An-22s of the TW [Transport Wing] under the Material Kommand will be loaded with stocks of AK-47s, RPG-7s, SA-7s, ammunition, medical aid and food and will depart for Aissur immediately. MiG-29s of the AG [Air Guard] will accompany the An-22s and act as fighter escort, refuelled in-flight by KC-130s assigned to the AG.

Long live the Red Revolution!

A Private Conversation
Executive Mansion, Goobergunch City

"President Belik, have you heard about the new reports out of Allanea? The socialist uprising?"

"Yes I have, Emil. I suggest a wait-and-see approach. They're a bit more radical then we (and even our Liberty Party friends) support, but they'd sure be better than the current Allanean government."

"Okay, then. Do we issue any statement?"

"Nope. Maybe some blanket statement against loss of life or something."

About an hour later
Goobergunchian Foreign Ministry, Goobergunch City

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Goobergunchian Foreign Ministry Issues Statement On The Allanean Socialist Uprising

Statement of Emil Farvus, Foreign Affairs Minister of the Liberal Unitary Republic

We do not wish to tell Allaneans how to run their own affairs, and simply hope that bloodshed on all sides is kept to a minimum.

--30--

The Socialist States of Dominikland have officially recognized the General Secretary as the de facto President of Allanea. No formal relations exist between King Napoleon and the S.S.D.
We pledge our support and offer to commit $12 Billion worth of food and medical supplies in a relief effort. Anything else, just let us know.

The People's Republic of Drabikstan also recognizes Aissur as an independent and sovereign state. We have established full diplomatic relations with Aissur and have dispatched military aid and advisors to the republic in order to protect the socialist revolution.

- Drabikstani Foreign Ministry

OOC: Drabikstan...how do you plan to get your men there in the first place? Not likely I'd say.

IC:"Very good information, President Kazansky." the King nodded pensively. "And worry not. I am not worried about a challenge to my rule. You already see the support any type of revolutionary government is garnering...let alone if you came forward. It would be an uphill battle just to keep this country intact."

He looked over his shoulder and saw his Adjunctant, General Gillot listening. "Gillot, get over here." he called. Gillot scrambled over to the table and looked attentively at the King. "Call into SDI-Hq. Tell them to launch a V-4 against the mine shaft at these coordinates. And against this hamlet." he handed Gillot two pieces of paper with the strike coordinates. Gillot saluted and ran to do his duty.

"The V-4," he turned to Kazansky," is an old tool of Reichskamphen. It is an ICBM with enough conventional explosives to wipe out three entire city blocks. They have worked in every campaign they were used in." he turned back to the map and rubbed his finger on the depiction of the mineshaft. "There..." he paused. "There is where they will run to. We must not give them any place to hide. And if, as you say, there are many of them in there already, it won't hurt to collapse the mine." Sensing Kazansky's question about why he didn't merely use the aircraft, he said, "I didn't want to send our men out there when this can't be readily shot down and afterall...this is Allanea...we have no clue what kind of heat these guys are packing."
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Within moment's King Napoleon's troop orders had reached the 3rd Division of the Allanean Guard. They were occupying the city just near the woodlands in which the Communists were building up their forces.

1,000 soldiers and a few tanks advanced to the outskirts of the city, facing the communist held territory, and dug in deeply. They formed a defensive perimeter as the sound of engines pierced the air. Something big was going on inside the city, but the rebel's coundn't see what.

If they looked, the rebel commanders could see a large cloud of dust rising into the sky on their left flank.

Offical Garrison II Statement
G2



Imperial City Garrison II is firmly commited in preventing a Communist Overthrow. Having the 6th largest Agricultural sector in the entire world we will contribute whatever amount of food royalist forces require. We also pledge 40 billion dollars for the time being.

As many of you know, it seems the Star Empire of Thelas is sending ships towards, if not against, the Libertarian Kingdom of Allanea which is a part of the Greater Prussian Empire.

We have not yet confirmed whether or not these ships are poised for aggressive action, but we can only assume, for the safety of our Empire, that they are a sign of aggression.

To that end, the Imperial Starfleet of Greater Prussia is forming in a defensive posture in orbit above Allanea.

The Greater Prussian military, already mobilized due to the Military expansion plans which were set in place a while ago, are now preparing for possible short term and long termd defensive and or offensive actions against Thelas should this be an aggressive action against the people of Allanea and Greater Prussia.

His Emminence,
Arch Duke Dietrich von Oberhausen
His Majesty's Foreign Minister

"The Aumanii government would like to thank Comrade McPherson for shedding the most righteous socialist light on the dank, corrupt nation of Allanea. May they sweep the bourgeousie away like the pests that they are. Long live the revolution, Long live Comrade McPherson!"

Overlord Jarak Romendacil Rosiro, Commander of Auman.

OOC:

Allanea, check your TG's.

Official Statement

Vastiva will remain neutral in this conflict.

Our freighter fleet will remove product from our several businesses from the war zone; in addition, we are sending transports to remove employee civilians and their families to a safe distance, along with our trained personel.

If necessary, we will protect our positions by force, but hope this will not occur as we have taken long steps to gain the confidence of the people.

We repeat our neutrality, and our intentions.

Namaste,
Voyate Shumash ben Allen
Vizier of Commerce
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

As many of you know, it seems the Star Empire of Thelas is sending ships towards, if not against, the Libertarian Kingdom of Allanea which is a part of the Greater Prussian Empire.

We have not yet confirmed whether or not these ships are poised for aggressive action, but we can only assume, for the safety of our Empire, that they are a sign of aggression.

To that end, the Imperial Starfleet of Greater Prussia is forming in a defensive posture in orbit above Allanea.

The Greater Prussian military, already mobilized due to the Military expansion plans which were set in place a while ago, are now preparing for possible short term and long termd defensive and or offensive actions against Thelas should this be an aggressive action against the people of Allanea and Greater Prussia.

His Emminence,
Arch Duke Dietrich von Oberhausen
His Majesty's Foreign Minister


OOC: Reichs, you do know that those TGs were OOC... and that there is no way in hell that you can tell that the Thelasi are moving to Allanea, right? Thus this post is somewhat null and void.... not to mention we have never interacted ICly... so I find it hard to beleive that you can even pick out a Thelasi ship among the millions of other vessels in space....

[OOC: I am assuming, given the time needed to carry out the decision for a launch, that it will take a while before the W-4's strike]

For a while, the battle lines stood still. Sometimes, small rebel units appeared, as if from nowhere, and attacked the 3rd Patrick Swayze division forces. Due to the good marksmanship on both sides, such attacks were certain to leave on both sides. The rebels had the advantage of surprise, the army - of number and firepower. Sometimes, the rebels made advances.

Another town - by the name of "Advantage" felll to the hands of the Socialists. More troops joined their cause.

And so, McPherson made his new speech.

"Citizens! Comrades! The Glorious People's Revolutionary Army is making countess advances. We are defeatng the capitalists on every front. Victory is..."

As he spoke this, a high-pitched howl was heard as a V-4 missile impacted the Socialists' Muhosransk outpost. Within a second, it was reduced to burning plywood.

Then, a second missile struck, elsewhere.

The Rearden Coal Mine - now the Roosevelt Defense Facility - collapsed upon itself. Most of the 1,000 former mine workers - a regiment in the People's Army - were dead immediately. Others, the less fortunate, died slowly, asphyxiating, bleeding or starving to death in the grave their own folly has dug them.

Then, drawn by remote projector-lasers, a single phrase appeared in the sky.

And he looked toward Sodom and Gomorrah, and toward all the land of the plain, and beheld, and, lo, the smoke of the country went up as the smoke of a furnace.

Somewhere, an Allanean PSYOPS commander chuckled:

"Hope the commies get it".

They did.

And their response was coming.

Executive Building: Haton

Prime Minister Zyteslav pondered over the latest reports from Allanea. "A socialist revolution in Allanea is a great event, but they have killed those who did not deserve to die..."

He sighed, pulled out his pen and began writing...


Official Statement from the Prime Minister

I am confused by the acts of the Allanean 'socialists'. If they are true socialists, for what reason did they kill those who did not deserve to die? However, we would not shed any tears if the current government of Allanea was destroyed. The Hattian people have decided, through a referendum, to stay neutral towards the situation

It is for these reasons that we have decided to remain neutral in this conflict, we will be watching, and this decision is subject to change at any moment.

Fyodor Leningrad Zyteslav
Prime Minister of the Soviet Socialist Republic of Hattia
Sr. Commisar (HPA Ret.)

OOC: Thelas, I know of you through your dealings with Melkor and Metus. So, yes, I'd know your ships. But, you're right, I misinterpreted the post you made about your ships. I knew that the tellegramme was OOC, but the movement of the ships would have been enough for me to atleast bring up my guard as my space navy is relatively new. But, if I could not have known that they were moving towards me and only knew that there were moving...then I wouldn't have put up my guard. Therefore, I will remove the post. Thanks for the clarification.

23:56 PM, In Perfection

"Is everybody ready?"

"Yes, comrade McPherson!"

"Then let's begin."

The messages where sent, and the field before the 3rd Division lit up. About 1,500 rebels were there, spread out over a plain firing rifles or grenade launchers, then running to relocate before the Guard forces fired at the location of the muzzle flash. Then, hidden comfortably by the darkness, they aimed carefully - sometimes, for a whole minute or two - then fired a shot or two at a carefully chosen target. Then, they ran, hoping - but often failing - to reach cover before an Army man would get them.

"Holy Hell!" yelled a Guard Captain as he drew his assault rifle, launching grenades into the masses.

The armoured units began shelling the enemy positions as artillery shells began landing in the field.

The radio flickered on and a message came accross. "Withdraw. Make Haste."

"What the...!?" a young Sgt. yelled out. "They have us outnumbered, but we have 'em outgunned! We have 'em!"

"Shutup!" the Captain yelled at him. "FALL BACK!" the Captain shouted.

The units began a fighting withdrawal and as they increased their distance between themselves and the gunners, they broke and ran.

OOC: Taking a couple liberties here

As the men broke, the gunmen became enthralled. They tasted blood and pursued the retreating Guardsmen. Suddenly, the AVF appeared on the Left rear of the gunmen. The officer towards the front held up a large black flag with a red hand in the centre. "For Kazansky!" he yelled as 3000 men of the "red hand" division charged into the mass of gunmen. The Reichskamphian Officers of the division drew their Imperial Guard sabres and slashed into the gunmen as the fired at them with their automatic pistols. The gunmens' escape was cutoff

The forwardmost units that were still moving against the retreating units were suddenly mowed down by gattling gun fire and blown skyward by a barrage of rocket propelled grenades. They had retreated into a firm line of Reichskamphian Guardsmen who held fast and then turned the gun back towards the advancing redhand division.

As Cavalry units from the Allanean Guard responded to the fire, they were thrown into place, essentially surrounding the gunmen. They were trapped and the noose was closing.

All around the Communist controlled area, the Imperial Guard was gathering, sealing off, one area at a time, the Communist's escape rout and solidifying a front line, forcing the Communists to fight, if not completely conventionally, then atleast to keep them in one area.

Fifty-eight Vastivan Tarpin-class transports moved away from the combat zone, escorted by the might of the Vastivan 2nd fleet - and a large number of freighters, loaded with product and machinery.

At first, there was some question as to whether Vastiva would get involved, declaration or not. But with all these civilians to be escorted to safer locations for the time being, there was no question of that.

For now.

The 5th and 7th divisions of the Allanean Imperial Guard were brought moved from Hestonia to bring their force to bear on the Communists.

As the Allanean Guard moved, the marching orders for the Sola Fide Division, which were to return to Reichskamphen, were cancelled. Sola Fide turned about and the 75,000 man strong Armoured Division turned around and lumbered towards the area of the Communist insurgency.

The Cordon seemed to be holding, but it wouldn't be completely impenetrable without the arrival of the 5th and the 7th Divisions which were, thank God, only a few hours away. Until then, the Guard formed concentric defensive perimeters and prepared for the worst, even an assault from tens of thousands.

As the Cordon prepared for the fight, the much vaunted Ann Coulter fighterbombers swarmed in the skies above the Communist controlled area, which was relatively small when one considered it. The Coulters opened up on any viable target, be they people, vehicles, or any type of standing structure. Thousands upon thousands of bombs and Air to Surface missiles were launched against anything and everything. There was no mercy. As the Coulters finished their runs they dispersed, only to give way to another smaller contingent of Jets, this time, they were Me-567's...it was obvious that these weren't Allaneans. These were planes from the Imperial Airforce.

These jets did not launch against structures, but swooped in dropping a couple hundred rounds of Napalm on the forrests in which the Communists were supposed to be hiding. A few planes, upon noticing that the forrest was pretty well set ablaze turned about and released their rounds on Perfection itself as they also released incendiary rounds into the town, hoping to cause a firestorm.

As Soddom and Gomorrah was destroyed, so too would Perfection be destroyed.

Alexander Kazansky appears on scree: "While unfortunately the King forces me to remain hidden for now, he is listening to my plan. Here it is. We intend to defeat the Communists by breaking their spirit. We shall do that by applying obvious firepower superiority. In other words, overkill. We will kill large amounts of them in the most intimidating fashion possible andd scare the survivors into submission. Presense of foreign force will make them feel, literally, that the whole world is against them. Especialy if Menelmacari troops are present In particular, I would ask you to lend us a small gravship to act in concert with the ground forces of our Ronald Reagan Powered Armour division, is that an option?"
Alexander Kazansky grins.

"Well, that's what Mornahossë are good at. They will be killed by people they can't see, hacked to death by invisible blades. The Shadow Force live up to their name, and will walk among them as wraiths, killing and destroying with virtual impunity." - replies the Noldo ruler.

"Some form of gunships, cruisers, tanks, something like this? And a signle personal powered armour suit for myself?" Alexander Kazansky kind of blushes.

"No power armor for you. And yes, we have tanks and such, of course. Given that we've *never* lost a war." - chuckles Lady Sirithil.

"No powered armour? Oh well. I am not even going to query why. Anyway, is it possible for you to lend us something loud, flashy, and very overkillsome?"

"I didn't say that. "I said no power armor for you."

'That's what I meant. Now, we would like aid in the form of troops equipped with something loud, flashy, and overkillsome.'

"We'll need to know absolutely everything about this town in which McPherson is based. I'm sure we'll have his head within the week."

"It is basically a town inhabited by what Marx would call lumpen-proletariat. The absolute dregs of society. The kind of idiots that would fall for McPherson's program."

"I mean actual intelligence. Whereabouts in the town would our little friend be hiding, what equipment the enemy has, that sort of thing."

"You haven't read Lenin, have you, Elentari?"

"Is there any reason it wouldn't be a waste of my time to do so?" Coming from an immortal, that's saying a lot.

"Well, McPherson is seemingly using Leninist military tactics. It seems he seeks to occupy structurse that Lenin deemed tactically relevant. McPherson's military educationn is apparently totally drawn from Lenin."
"Meaning...?" - muses Sirithil.

"His forces are seeking to capture the modern equivalents of "bridges, telegraphs, and post-offices." He has captured the Perfection Town Hall, bank, and local radio station - that's some fellow's basement.."

"Elentari... can I at least get a Menelmacari uniform and helmet?"

"Probably." - replies the Elven Queen.

"And those helmets would conceal my face, correcT?"

"How tall are you again?" - continues the Elentari with certain reduction

About six feet, Elentari. I believe we met."

Siri hmms. There's probably at least a few uniforms that size in stock. She ponders.

"Oh, and Elentari? Technically, I resigned today."


"Not officially, yet. Told King Napoleon I'm not going to challenge his rule. Too tired of this insanity. In terms of ineptness, I think Allanean politicians rule the world."

Siri nods a bit. "I'd agree with you there."

Alexande rKazansky chuckles. "We might be referring to different one. At any rate, I do have a moderate nest egg that will allow me to retire and live healthily. Thank you for your library access. I diagnosed my ture nature, finally. It was one of the reasons I retire. It seems I'm a Maia, Elentari. I have no clue why I don't remember the Song of the Ainu and the rest of it... but the evidence seems to point that way. And I don't think my fellow citizens quite meant the next few millenia when they spoke about "president for life."

Siri arches an eyebrow. "I don't even want to know how that's possible, but whatever." She shakes her head a bit.
It is the only theory that fits [insert magical techbabble here]. At any rate... I need a uniform. And a rifle to go with it, of course." Alexander Kazansky chuckles, as a faint glimmer of hope seems to flicker faintly in his eyes. I hope you yet respect me enough to allow me such a luxury."

"Don't you have both already?"
"I have been ordered by King Napoleon not to participate in the fighting. I intend to disobey that order. For two reasons. One, McPherson stays against everything I worked for decades to build. Killing him by proxy isn't good enough. I want to kill him myself. The other... nevermind."

"Well... you'd have to go with the Mornahossë to have a feasible chance at killing him yourself. And I doubt they'd be too happy about the idea."

"Elentari, I have a certain experience in the matter, you know. I intend to go in there, alone. Perhaps with one of your troops. You have tactical photographers in the MIDF, right?" - Alexander Kazansky smiles. "Just in case I do screw it

"Our helmets have built-in holorecorders."



****

In Advantage

There was no mercy.

The government forces waded through the city, lobbing grenades through windows, impaling rebels on bayonets, and laughing as they heard the dying wails of the Socialists.

By the end of the day, 2,500 rebel troops where dead.

The battle, however, was far from over.

OOC: Wait :)

King Napoleon sat in his rail car at the forward HQ of the Army. He sipped a cup of tea as he gazed at the map infront of him. "Your Highness," a Colonel entered the rail car and saluted. "It appears your plan worked. We routed the rebels and it seems we are winning so far."

"Don't be so hasty." Napoleon said calmly. Not yet looking at the man, but merely stirring his tea. "We still could lose this. If we have them running..." he looked up, his fiery eyes piercing the Colonel's consciousness, "We must keep pursueing them. If they are running, they will keep running if we keep pressing."

Napoleon placed his finger on the map, pointing to a small Hamlet, population of perhaps 500-600 people. "This little town is a forward post of the Communists and has given aide and comfort to the Reds. Take the 1st and 3rd Brigades of the AVF and destroy the town. Kill everyone and everything in it. I don't want so much as a cockroach to poke its head out of this place once you're done with it."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Come on, men!" yelled an obviously Reichskamphian Captain. His call was echoed by the Colonel in command of the 3rd Brigade.

"Men of the AVF, GIVE THE DAMN REDS HELL!" the Colonel shouted as the 1st and 3rd Brigades, about 2,500 soldiers emmerged from the treeline. The standard bearers unfurled their black flags as the men moved forward. "On the Doublequick!" the Colonel shouted. The men complied and almost began to jog.

"Mom," a little girl asked her mother as she dipped water out of the well in the centre of town, "What's that?"

"What sweety?" the mother asked lovingly.

The daughter tugged at the mothers apron more desperately. "Look!" she pointed out to the field where a human wave spread out before them. The Black flags billowed in the breeze as they towered above the men. "OURRAH!!!!" the men shouted a high pitched war-cry sending corkscrews down the spines of the villagers.

The mother bent down to shield the little girl as the little one clung tightly to her legs.

Two or three Communists ran out an fired a round or two into the mass before they were riddled with lead.

"Mommy!" the little girl cried as an AVF soldier slammed the Butt of his rifle into the woman's face, knocking her down. As the little girl screamed, staring into the bloody pool that was once her mothers face the man picked her up, and drawing his commando knife slit her throat from ear to ear, and threw her on the ground where he watched her wrythe helplessly as she bled to death. A small little poodle ran towards the AVF soldier barking and clawing at his leg. The little girl reached out desperately for her little doggie. The soldier saw it in her eyes. He picked up the poodle, grapped it by his hind leggs, reared back, and slammed the dog's head against the stone ledge of the well, splattering blood brains and bone everywhere. If the girl had still had vocal chords to cry with she would have been screaming. The man spat in her face before he ran off to pursue other targets.

The men forced old, wheelchair-bound men and women to try to walk, and when they couldn't shot them square in the face for their husbands and wives to see, before they shot them as well.

"We've got some here!" a man yelled as he escorted twenty children out of a school house at bayonet point along with thier frightened teacher.

An AVF captain walked up to the teacher, whose face was covered with soot. "We have a pretty little thing here, don't we. He slowly cut the straps of her dress with his knife and began to rub her up and down, as she stood there, frozen, whimpering. "LEAVE MY MOMMY ALONE!" one of the boy's yelled as he ran at the soldier.

"SEBASTIAN NO!!!" the mother screamed as the Captain nonchallantly drew his pistol and shot the child dead.

"Now where were we." he turned back to the teacher. "Ah yes. If you let me...." he looked her up and down..."I'll spare the children."

"Fine!" she screamed, tears washing away the soot on her face.

He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder and as he walked away he yelled back, "Kill them all!"

"NO!!!!!!!!" she screamed, beating at his back with her fists. The childrens' screaming and crying was stilled by the slicing bullets of a machinegun. Their limp corpses fell to the ground as the Captain drug the woman off.

Grenades and guns were going off everywhere as every single building in town was set aflame, sometimes with occupants inside. As the flames rose higher, the acrid stench of burning flesh permeated the air, and plumes of black smoke climbed skyward, hopefully sending a signal to McPherson...the signal to surrender.

The Town of Advantage, Aissur, Allanea

A long, long machinegun burst rung out on the outskirts of the town. The socialists have tried to give the Ronald Reagan Powered Armour Division a fight, but when a handful of locals - it's easy to find Allaneans who hate Socialism, after all - appeared on their rear, they were crushed.

Sergeant Tucson, smiled as he easily swapped aside the makeshift barricade and punched a young man - almost a boy - squarely in the face. The steel glove of the powered armour smashed the enemiy's head like an egg. Then, he turned towards the locals - those few that fought against the rebels. "Are there others here, like you?"

The leader of the locals - a man whose dirty clothing once was the garment of a rabbi - shivered: "No, Sir. They killed most of them. Hundreds. Threw the bodies in an abandoned mineshaft. Locked up many - a thousand or so - in the County Prison. Here, everybody is dead."

"Good."

The rabbi lifted an eyebrow: "What's good about it, Sir."

"You should rememeber your Bible." The Sergeant pointed towards the simple wooden housing:

Therefore it shall be, when the Lord thy God hath given thee rest from all thine enemies round about, in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee for an inheritance to possess it, that thou shalt blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven; thou shalt not forget it!

And the slaughter began. The armoured troups hosed the buildings with API and HEI-F rounds from their 25mm rifles, then simply kicked whoever walked out with their steel boots. That was fatal.

There was no quarter.

Michael Frenezki, an unemployed mine foreman and a collaborator with McPherson's troops, managed to run away far - comparatively. As he ran out of Advantage and slowed down, about half a mile from the town. He stopped, gasping for air. Suddenly, he heard the sound of steps behind him. As he turned, he saw a soldier. The rifle was pointed at Frenezki's head. That was the last thing he ever so.

There were no rules.

The Sergeant grinned. In front of him were highschoolers. Members of the Working Pioneers Movement. Before the uprising, it was allowed to flourish in the area - Allanea, after all, was a Libertarian Kingdom. Now, they supported McPherson. And, whatever their ages, they would pay the price.
He turned away and listened to the machinegun fire drown out their screams.

There was no mercy.

Tucson walked through the long burned-out street of Advantage. In the rubble of one of the homes lay a wounded man, moaning with pain. Tucson looked at the man with apprehension, then recognised the bloodied, dirty uniform of McPherson's forces. He shouldered his rifle, and noticed the look of hope in the man's face - a hope of release from the terrible pain of his wound. Tucson turned around and walk away, smiling as he listened to the dying moans of the last man in Advantage.

OOC: This is a post from the Socialist perspective.

IC:

In Perfection

Another Ann Coulter MarK III flew overhead, dropping bombs. McPherson cringed momentarily, then turned to his lieutenants. "I undestand we lost 6,000 more people? Let's begin. As Marx said, "the proletariat has nothing to lose but its chains."

A few messages were wired, and the battle began. Out of several mines, the rebels began to pour, striking a short, half-mile stretch of front with about 34,000 yelling warriors - one-half the surviving Socialist force. About 8,000 where dispersed throughout the perimeter, prickling the government forces here and there to hold them off, and 3,000 where protecting Perfection, with rifles, AA cannon and the rare SA-7 launcher.

"Comrade McPherson? We shot down one of their planes."

"Finally. Report it to the world, now."

Within hours, the world media showed pictures of rebels dancind on the wreck of a single Ann Coulter III.

"The Capitalist War Machine is not as invulnerable as it seems! We have brung down this plane, we will bring others! We will defeat the Capitalist Air Force! Their Army! Their Police! We WILL prevail!"

"Your Highness!" General Gillot ran in screaming to the King. "The Rebels have hit a half mile stretch in the southern portion of the Cordon. There are about. Estimates range from 20,000 to 30,000 armed gunmen attacking the position!"

Napoleon bolted up from his chair. "Has Sola Fide arrived yet!?"

"They are six hours out."

"Tell them to hurry Dammit!" Napoleon threw on his great coat and almost flew out of the train car.

"What are you doing!?" an exasperated Gillot called after him. "I'm going to the South!"

"You'll be killed!"

Napoleon didn't listen. He jumped into the nearest Kubelwagen, and slapping the door, signaled the driver to go.

As he rode, Napoleon began radioing the various commands, ordering them to hold their positions. As the radio fell silent he thought to himself, "We probably killed about 9 or 10 thousand of their men. He had about 50,000 as best estimates....and there are 20,000 attacking. This is half of their force...." he fell silent for a moment, glancing at the trees that seemed to blur by as the officer driving intently stared at the road ahead. "They're trying to demonstrate and make a concentrated attack...but they have no clue HOW to...there are too many of them out there to have any huge effective force break through."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Fall Back!" a Sargeant Screamed. He was the ranking officer in his brigade. They kept shooting and it seemed as they shot one another three popped up. Scores of the Communists fell but still they kept coming.

The Imperial Guard, until now, holding strong against all odds, began to fall back...and fall back at a quickening pace. The Communists were only attacking a half-mile stretch...and instead of helping, the Guard units on either side that were not coming under attack merely held their positions. They fired at the Communists, but stayed in place. Per the King's orders, forces were shifted to either side of the breach, but not ordered to move. The Red Hand Division, minus the 1st and 3rd Brigades, were moved into a position behind the retreating Guardsmen.

As the retreating soldiers fell into the Red Hand Division, their retreat was halted and they stood firm again as the Socialists, thinking this was a small obstacle to their breakout, swarmed accross the plains. Thousands ran for freedom, they could almost taste it. The woods beyond called them. But that call was cut short when the left and right flanks pivoted, forming a U-Shape infront of the advancing units, a new formidable cordon.

Then, the 5th Allanean Imperial Guard division moved in to close off the rear...surrounding the thousands of socialists. Panic was set off through the ranks of the Socialists. One could heard the phrases "We're surrounded!" "They're everywhere!" "We aren't getting out alive!" being shouted by the frightened peasants.

The Allanean Royal Artillery, long missing from the field, let its voice be heard as thousands of shells were lobbed into the centre of the Communist pocket as the Commanders awaited the order to close the noose and finish off the Red's.

There were no labels on the boxes, or if there were, they burned off during the descent. Of course... there was nothing on any scanners where the boxes originated. They merely appeared there, 200 kilometers up, wrapped in ablative shells.

They fell, their speed growing quickly, as they continued to fall, speeding towards the ground far below, burning streaks in a blue sky over a field of blood. There was nothing in the boxes to indicate where they had come from either. Weapons, that would have been called in another time United States surplus, filled the boxes. Assault rifles, pistols, RPGs and rocket launchers. Small weapons, of all sorts. Assorted weapons from other mediums. Some unidentified plasms rifles, some more futuristic battle rifles, capable of firing bullets to pierce armor, even powered armor. Anti tank weapons. Perhaps fifty boxes, or sixty, there probably was no time for an active count, fell behind the Socialist lines.

Hundreds of weapons. Thousands of rounds. Someone obviously had friends in high places. Very high. Though apparently, not very good friends.

Further, within hours, medium resolution video, obviously taken from high above (maybe even orbit) found its way onto the world networks. It was of the slaughter of children in Allanea. The slaughter of people who had thrown down their arms. The video was clear enough to read the signs nearby.

Interpretation was left to the media, but someone, somewhere, was doing their job.

OOC: I swear this is the limit of my involvement in the thread. And so help me, if you claim I did this ICly, you have no record of it, because you have no way of knowing. Now, keep shooting each other.

OOC: Al... Don't post things involving me without clearing the circumstances of their posting. Ever. I'll deal with you later. :mad:

Conversation between Prime Minister E.S. Cirettekrub and Foreign Minister Deepak Chopra, after hours in the foreign affairs bureau at the National Assembly:

"I've thought about re-stating my offer to help broker a peace settlement between the Socialists and King Napolean," said the prime minister shuffling through a stack of manila folders. "They didn't even acknowledge it last time," he added.

Chopra sighed and stood up from behind his desk. "You think they will this time? They're not fighting for a cause. They're just power hungry, those people. They don't care who they harm, or what damage they inflict on the country. Anyway, why should they pay attention to us? We're a small country very few people have ever heard of. I know your intentions are sincere, but they probably just assume we're trying to play with the big dogs, and they've got more important things to do - like killing scores of innocent people to grab power. Let's just deal with issues here in our own region - god knows there's plenty to tangle with already."

Cirettekrub sighed; he looked tired.

"Was it foolish to get involved in politics because I thought I could change things?," he asked the foreign minister."Make them better? Maybe I should never have left the monastery. At least meditating all day made me feel better."

"Let them kill each other," said Chopra. "It'll get them out of the way, and then we can start offering aid to the civilians, assuming any of them are left. They'll need food, possibly even a place to go. We'll pick it up from there."

"If I didn't think you were right, I'd say you were heartless," said the prime minister. "Let's get a beer."

Greater Taiwan Condemns the reckless actions of the disgruntled rabble.

Greater Taiwan will fight the rebels andn help prevent the spread of communism if nessary

The Armed Republic of Lunab gives its support to the workers of the Socialist Uprising in Allanea. We will give support in any way necessary. Long live the Red Flag!!

"Workers of the world, unite!"
-Karl Marx

Secret IC:

***Encrypted Transmission***

From: General Fohke, Aumanii Command of Earth Force.
To: Comrade General McPherson, Allanea.
Subject: Clandestine Support.

==========================================================

"It has come to the attention of the Aumanii government that you are losing this war comrade. I chose not to mince words here because this is the exact truth. I have been authorized to facilitate the shipment of high tech arms and equipment to your forces. This equipment includes: Body Armour, High Velocity Assault Rifles, Anti-Tank Weaponry, Energy Anti-Aircraft Weaponry, Field Artillery, Aircraft, Hovertanks and most importantly, training. We may also be in a position to provide a special "observer" force to support your armies if you wish. We here in Auman believe this offer is too good to pass up, though if you do not wish to accept that is upto you. Though I would like to point out that if you dont accept our offer, any chance of survival will be thrown out the window. Now Comrade, the choice is yours."

***End Transmission***

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

General Fohke leaned back in his seat and read a dataslate he had just recieved from his adjutant who stood patiently before him. 'Have a seat Joffre, you're going to be here awhile...help yourself to a drink from the liquor cabinet if you want.' said Fohke, not bothering to look up from his work. Joffre stepped over to himself and his Lord Comrade a drink. Joffre, upon opening the liquor cabinet, was amazed by the variety of drinks available to him...apparently the general liked his drinks. 'Lord Comrade' Joffre studdered nervously, 'What do you suggest?' Fohke looked up towards his adjutant 'I suggest the Amaretto...actually, pour me a glass would you?' Joffre did as the general asked. Sometime passed before Fohke spoke again, 'So, everything is ready to go as soon as I give the order then?' Joffre nodded and spoke softly 'Yes Lord Comrade, on a moments notice.' Fohke raised a glass and Joffre clicked his against it. 'Very well Joffre, tell the men to await the order then.' Joffre clicked his heels smartly and made his way out of the office.

OOC:

Archtag! ;)

Encrypted Transmission

Dear Comrade!
I am currently surrounded by the capitalist forces. We would accept aid - if you found a way to get it our way.
Yours,
McPherson.

Kremlin Palace

"Oh joy," Bismarck said to Golovko. "Just what we need."

"Yes," Golovko responded. "I'm sure the Czar will be quite pissified."

"Is that even a word?"

"I don't care," Yuri responded with a smile. "It is now."

"Ha!" Bismarck said, laughing. "Anyways, I'll inform Ivan."

* * * *

"Goddamnit," Czar Rekjyavich Ivan Andropov III, Arch-Chancellor of Greater Prussia said.

"That is what I said," Bismarck responded to the curse.

"Good. Well, then. Wait and see for now, but mobilize First Division, Second Corps."

"Yessir."

King Napoleon watched on with Horror as the pictures of women and children being slaughtered came accross his television screen at the Headquarters, barely a mile behind the frontline in the South, where the breakout had been attempted.

"That..that...that.." he stuttered. "That was supposed to be a Communist Outpost!" his jaw was wide open as he gazed at the carnage. "Oh...my...God..."

The King didn't even have time to react when he heard about the ramped up Rebel attacks elsewhere on the Cordon.

"They have caused too much loss of life. This is ends now."

The King grabbed a piece of paper, scrawled something on it and handed it to his man, Gillot. "Radio this to all Commanders."

The note read as following.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Advance Full. Take what casualites you have to. We aren't waiting anylonger. Collapse the Pocket, retake the city, and we can return home by next week. All Reserves should be thrown into the Advance. No stalling, now going soft. Finish the job.

-Napoleon
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every single unit in the Imperial Army advanced forward. Any thing that gave resistance in the slightest was plowed over by the Armour or torn to shreds by the soldiers bullets. It was now only a matter of time.

Communique to King Napoleon of Allanea
From Arch-Chancellor Rekjyavich Ivan Andropov III

God be with you in your troubles.
Should it be necessary, I can mobilize the
entity of Second Corps.

Air support, such as B-52's and other bombers can
be given, as well as normal air support.

Yours in Christ,
Arch-Chancellor Rekjyavich Ivan Andropov III

Streaks of incandescent light filled the Allanean sky, brilliant in their intensity. Unmarked Aumanii Gravships made their way through the atmosphere, falling towards Perfection. A group of three ships broke off from the main force, making way towards the battlelines, firing cannon and missile at suspected enemy positions as they did so. As they fell, the fleet dropped manned fighters behind them and as they did they came to life, flitting around their motherships like winged insects taking up defensive positions.

==========================================================

GVCS Alfader:

'Keep hitting their positions, keep them occupied and confused...withdraw when the cargo is unloaded.' said Captian Libsuj clippedly as he paced the command deck of his dreadnought. 'Send a message to McPherson so that the royalists can listen in...confirm that payment has been collected and services have been rendered. Make it care of "Darkwater Security"'. a radio officer gave a brief 'aye!' and went about tapping a message to the Insurgents. Looking at the forward observation screen, Libsuj could see flak blossoming around the fleet...the threat was negligible.

OOC:

Since you haven't had any contact with me in the past I would reckon that you would have no clue who the ships belong to.

OOC: Actually, you were part of the ODW, no?

IC:

Pivo HQ, behind the line

"What is this?"

The young officer grinned maniacally.

"Pictures takent by our Anti-Orbital Defense System. They are showing Aumani and Federation craft dropping supplies to the rebels."

The officer frowned. "This is good, boy, but we can't use it right now."

"What do you mean, Sir?"

"Politics. File it under Top Secret, Eyes Only. When it becomes needed, I will brief you again."

"Yes, sir.".

OOC:

Ive never used or announced my Gravships publically, I wasn't apart of the ODW Allanea or Greater Prussia has no idea what my ships look like. Meaning, as far as you know. They are Darkwater Security Co. ships. Not to mention that the gravships are unmarked as well as bombing Royalist positions. Read the whole post ;)

OOC: Allanea, I explicitly stated you would have no idea that I sent the stuff. Why? Because there were no Federation craft in the area when they were dropped. Read the post. It mentions absolutely no Federation ships. So get over it.

OOC: He misunderstood. Besides, even if he did know, he wouldn't do anything with it. He wouldn't be able to.

OOC: Allanea, I explicitly stated you would have no idea that I sent the stuff. Why? Because there were no Federation craft in the area when they were dropped. Read the post. It mentions absolutely no Federation ships. So get over it.


Markings on the weapons. Stuff like that. Peculiarities in the plastics the buttstocks are made of. ;)

Besides, it's not like I'm doing anything about it. I just know. ;) ;)

In the Royalist HQ

Alexander smiled as he put on his Menelmacari uniform. This way, he could be in combat without generating an international s__tstorm. He reached for his handgun - a gold-plated Desert Eagle Mk XIX which has served him throughout Allanea's major wars. He shouldered a rifle - an M-16AL, slightly behind the AAR-36, perhaps, but a design he liked. THen, finally, he slinged a longsword behind his back.

He opened the door. Behind it, his car awaited - a Hummer, of course, the vehicle of choice of Allanean dignitaries of all times.

"Time to rock." - said the former president as the Hummer started towards the rebel positions.

Above Kazansky, two Stephen Harper AV's flew by, filled with troops of the Ronald Reagan Powered Armour division. On the horizon he saw MRLS system paint the sky in beautiful rainbows of pure fire, arching out towards the enemy.

Just as he made another turn on the road, two men in worker's coveralls wielding AK-47's ran out in front of him, firing wildly into the vague direction of the car. Within seconds, one of them was hit by the monstrous vehicle, his innards and cranium splattering across the winshield and hood. The other latched on to the driver's side window, trying for some stupid reason to poke his rifle inside. Kazansky grinned insanely as he pointed the Desert Eagle in the Socialist's face and pulled the trigger. Twice.

"Just in case he had a very small brain," chuckled Kazansky.

* * * * *

"Pull back, comrades, pullback!" shouted the rebel commanders, as Ann Coulter Mark III aircraft flew by, pounding the hapless rebels with a virtual hail of bombs.

Above the hills came the song of the Ronald Reagan Powered Armour division as it burrowed into the rebel's flank:

There's a yellow rose in Aissur, that I am going to see,
Nobody else could miss her, not half as much as me.

"Run for your lives! Run!" screamed the terrified rebels. The 25mm rounds sowed death, havoc, and destruction among the lines, but what was much more terrible for the Socialists was the singing - somewhere, in the back of their minds, it told them that the Royalists were still confident, and strong.

She cried so when I left her, it like to broke my heart,
And if I ever find her, we nevermore will part.

If the Rebels had no good commanders, they'd be all doomed. But they had. The man, a former Army officer called Fritz Nibble, pointed the distraught hordes back, where the Royalists were struggling to close the noose, and screamed: "Charge! Back to Perfection!"

And charge they did, attacking the Royalist flanks with the ferocity of trapped animals.

Within a few hours, it was over. Out of every four rebels in McPherson's task force, three lay dead on the battlefield. The Royalists advanced slowly as Nibble's forces tried to organize themselves into some vestige of a defensive line.

OOC:

*Pokes Allanea* What about the Gravship assault on the Royalist lines...and the tanks, guns and bombs. And why the hell did you name your AVs after the man I voted for? :S

OOC: He wanted to repeal that damned registry. Good enough for me.

IC:

Gravships flew by, strafing the government forces with fire. Some battalions actually fell back, decimated by the new opponent. And then, the response came.

Suddenly, above the battlefield, a huge ship decloaked, having previously been concealed. From the ship, hundreds of gunships and thousands of transathmospheric Anne Coulter Mark VII fighters deployed, showering the enemy gravships with missiles, particle beams, and auto-cannon shells.

Simultenously, two Allanean battle-groups - fourty ships in total - proceeded to their positions in orbirt, firing kinetic-kill missiles at the new enemy.

One the ground, things where not good for the government forces. The rebells where pulling back, but slowly, determined to fight for every inch of the ground, sure that they would be killed - and sure they'd give the "evil capitalists" a run for their money.

Two thousand Royalists died that day - and five thousand rebel.

In Perfection

Alexander Kazansky kicked the door of his Humvee open, just as yet another rebel rushed in his direction. He thrust the muzzle of his rifle into the man's fiace, breaking his nose, and smiling contendedly as the Socialist rolled on the floor in pain. He then kicked him in the throat, and as the rebel was still choking to death, proceeded to fire at the windows.

Muzzle flashes erupted from the two houses in front of him, but the blended-metal 6.5mm bullets from his rifle snuffed them out like simple candles, undoubtedly colouring the walls of the rooms the rebels where flying from with their blood.

He walked on - without fear. Without remorse. Without mercy.

Transports zipped at extremely fast speeds across the wave, to the isthmus territory of Bryn Shander. Inside the massive dropships were men of the Liangite Dracospawn, elite soldiers, the very essence of physical perfection, spared from duty in Liangite Magdha to allegedly assist Bryn Shander against possible subversives from Allanea fleeing into the nation.

Five armored regiments, however, was overkill. Atleast for 'border patrol'. Unless, of course, with characteristic thoroughness, the Domain simply wanted to make sure nothing went wrong. Foregoing the traditional, hardy Kome tanks in favor of the newest Hanohal gravtanks, best of the best and armed to the teeth.

The truth, naturally, was much more malignant. Military advisors disguised as tourists poured into The Athiest's Reality on other ships, while across the Bryn Shander border came guerrilla organizers, advisors, and supplies, drawn by Allanean or Allanean-looking men, specially trained to act and blend in with the Allanean populace. They did not head for the Imperial cordon around the communists, instead, they also brought great orators. Grievances of Allanean government and Reichskamphen rule against God and Man were magnified, stated, and spoken in a fiery tone by speakers specially chosen by Dracospawn themselves. The combination of fiery speech, Liangite guerilla fighters, and ready supplies was designed to draw in as many Allaneans into the resistance as possible. Saboteurs went across the border as well, making life a living hell as utilities and railways found themselves targets of high explosives and transportation of troops needed was halted and destroyed. Messages slipped through to the socialists: Help was on the way.

Needless to say, anything that crossed the border was virtually untraceable, including the personnel. Anything even the most frustrated and intelligent interrogator would be able to find out would lead them to dead ends and more dead ends.

As gravtank regiments of soldiers, who were capable of forming a very nasty armored fist should the need arise began to land and deploy across the Bryn Shander/Allanea border, it was a grim Dracospawn, Takar Tyuri, that prepared to lead them. A divisional commander in the Magdhan War, Takar Tyuri was a Dracospawn through and through; physically perfected, and in addition to these, had command talent. No punches would be pulled, except, of course, against innocents. Tyuri had his own opinions on what to do to foolish Allaneans, but orders were orders.

Also deploying to Bryn Shander were a limited amount of Barukzigil, commanded by the Captain of the Silver Axes himself, Azaghal Nardukher's right-hand man, the fierce killer known as Nilôzôr, an Adunaic name meaning, appropriately, Moon-Flame. His blindingly white armor blazed in the sun, in his right hand was a very nasty looking minitature gauss gun, on his back was an equally as nasty power-axe. His hair, an exceptional oddity for a dwarf, was brilliantly white as well. He would be leading the Silver Axes in whatever the cause for their being there might be.

Despite Liang's commitment, soon it would become clear that it was all part of a larger effort.

Markings on the weapons. Stuff like that. Peculiarities in the plastics the buttstocks are made of. ;)

Besides, it's not like I'm doing anything about it. I just know. ;) ;)

OOC: Allanea, why the hell would you think I would send weapons made in FSP?

Unless you have a crystal ball, there is no way you could possibly know. And if you claim to have a crystal ball, it doesn't work. The weapons would have been made other places, obviously. Just like modern spec ops don't use weapons made in their home country, these certainly wouldn't be FSP made weapons.

IC: High over head, a small satellite orbited over the battlefield, watching and gleaning every bit of information that it could.

The Liangese spies that inflitrate Allanea apparently made a bad job of their homework, or they would have known that Socialism was not a very popular cause in Allanea. Allanea has suffered a lot from socialists, and McPherson's fringe group only made it worse.

So in every crowd that listened to the orators, there would be someone crazy and angry enough to shoot at them if they voiced support of McPherson. It did yield some support for McPherson - about 1,000 volunteers have successfully wormed their way through the blockade.


In Perfection

Alexander Kazansky kicked a rebel in the groin. When the man folded over, he hit him in the head with the rifle. Twice. He smiled as the man collapsed. Then, he kicked in the door for the building that was, according to the rumours, McPherson's stronghold.

Above the North-Allanean Gulf

Several X-wing fighters moved in behind the Liangese transport.

"Liangese craft, this is Squadron Six, Allanean Stellar Navy. Your nation is still in a state of war with us. You have ten seconds to transmit a surrender message."

"Negative, sir. Northwestern Liang agreed to the terms offered by Sentient Peoples' in the One Day War. Continuing Flight," came the somewhat annoyed return message from one of the few transports still left outside of Bryn Shander airspace. Without a second thought, it speeded up and zipped on into Bryn Shander territory, making sure that any attack on a Liangite transport was a violation of Bryn Shander sovereignty.

Needless to say, the Allaneans could be depended on to forge ahead into oblivion despite all evidence against their cause, so it was with not a little sigh that Antaru Rigul, Star Marshal of the LSN, began to move fleet elements into orbit if and when the Allaneans chose to continue the fight. Needless to say, Liang's stellar navy had been aided and helped by allied designs and aid and had the additional plus of not being blown into oblivion and not having regressed into the Iron Age for its first phase of existence. Building and construction had gone right on ahead. Rigul fiddled with extreme prejudice, but in the circumstances decided to relay a message to Napoleon.

"Attention, King Napoleon of Allanea, representative of Reichskamphen. Elements of the Allanean fleet, of which I assume you have control, are attempting an attack on elements of the Liangite Space Navy, apparently unaware of the peace signed between your nation and our own after the conclusion of the One Day War. Unless, of course, my assumption that you actually control Allanea was incorrect, I assume, for the sake of reason, will call off these fighters? Twould be a shame for you to have to deal with a belligerant outside power in addition to the apparently greatly reinforced Socialists as well.

With hope for peace,
Antaru Rigul
Star Marshal of the Domain"

Kill Team Soultaker finished gearing up. Ten individuals, dressed to kill. Literally.
They wore an eclectic assortment of armor and weaponry, as they were drawn from an eclectic assortment of services, organizations, and specialties.

Caspian Del'Riva lead the team, acting as his Warprince's personal agent. Because Dysaryn wasn't a fan of failure...and sending Caspian was the next best thing to going himself.

And he didn't feel that his personal involvement was necessary at this point. Caspian personally hoped that Dysaryn Stark's personal involvement would -never- be necessary. Thus his agreement.

Caspian Del'Riva was a tall (6'5") man with midnight-black hair, silver eyes, a very powerful body (275 s.pounds, none of it fat,) and a whole, whole, whole lotta skill.

You could hardly tell that he was one of the most dangerous men in the entire Supremacy, losing to the Warprince himself, but just barely. Right now, he was perched upon the side of a crate in the load-out room of the RNS Paladin, playing his flute.

He was waiting for the rest of his team to gear up, he didn't need to, as he was -always- geared up. The melody he played was a prelude to battle...his own personal theme song, in a way.

Those deadly silver eyes swept his team...

Major Severian Stark, RASP Operator, infiltrator of the highest grade, superior marksman and all around good hand. Sev wore armor unlike any that Caspian had seen before, but he had indeed heard of it. Experimental stealth power armor, based off of the Myrmidon design. It would become standard issue for RASP operators in high risk situations...if it passed the trials.

Master Sgt. Mephistopheles Rogers, sniper extraordinaire, and like Sev, was one of only two survivors of the botched infiltration into Menelmacar. He wore a more classic suit of ISBA, his precision sniper's rifle slung over the right shoulder.

Captain Jeremy Cartier, one of Kael Stark's Gunslingers. He wore a suit of SORA partial power armor with null-sig modifications, and his twin custom bolt pistols road high on his hips. Over the shoulder was a carbine, and he carried a wicked looking double-barrel shotgun on a mag-clamp to his belt.

1st Lieutenant Erin De'Valoran, Fleet Marine Recon/Marauder. She was a specialist in ops like this, and her unpowered Marauder Combat Armor was like a second skin to her. She carried a full-size CR-17 Combat Rifle with underbarrel ABL-2, and the usual eclectic assortment of sidearms and knives common to the Marauders.

Captain Derik Tanner, Fleet Marine Recon/Marauder. He and Erin De'Valoran formed a wonderful team, though they were something of diametric opposites. Tanner was a decidedly big guy, six and a half feet tall, with the kind of muscles that one got when 'Trek across this here continent' was clearly state in one's job description.

Tanner wore the usual unpowered Marauder armor, but his weapon was a bit different. It was called a 'Battle Rifle,' featuring 20mm ammunition, an integral single shot 40mm GL, enhanced optics, and the usual range of customization that was a given among truly elite units.

As was said, Tanner was a big guy. Erin was a slight girl. She carried a standard issue 10mm combat rifle with 40mm underbarrel, he had a 20mm battle rifle with 40mm integral. Getting the idea, yet?

Marc Devieur was NSIC. That was all you needed to know about him, okay? He carried the standard NSIC 'Stinger,' with its obscene rate of fire and hypervelocity 1mm iridium teardrops. He wore the standard NSIC powered armor, and the usual NSIC FS-2 flechette pistol rode low on his right hip. But his real function was as grenadier, and he carried his GL-4 with authority.

Knight-Sergeant Josiah Callahan was a soft-spoken country kid from Armel, he had a beautiful voice and a very, very, very powerful, very big body. He stood damn near seven foot tall, and his Crusader power armor made him into a bloody nightmare. The SHRL-9 "Shirley" heavy rocket launcher he had slung over his shoulder normally required a tripod mount, and the HSW machinegun he carried like a rifle was traditionally a crew-served fixed-emplacement or vehiclular weapon.

Specialist Evan Delacroix was Revenian Fleet Marines. He specialized in 'everything but shooting,' as he put it. He was a medic/engineer/commo-tech/sensor tech/hacker/scrounger and so much more. He was always coming up with surprises, and despite not being a 'shooting specialist,' he wasn't half-bad there, either. He wore a suit of Cavalier recon power armor, and his weapon was the standard issue CR-17.

And finally, rounding out the team was Katherine 'Kate' Wolf. She was Caspian's personal appointment to the team, and quite deceiving at first sight. She was about 5'3", maybe one hundred ten s.pounds, with chestnut brown hair and brown eyes with just the barest hint of silver about them. She wasn't exactly hideous to look at, either...partially do the two attention-grabbers on her chest.

Yeah, she was, in fact, drop-dead gorgeous. Right up until you saw her move. The way she walked like a panther on the prowl...the way her movements were so bloody exact, but were simply a very, very thin veil over her deadliness. The Warprince had had that walk, but had since placed a stronger veil over his killer instinct. But others had that same walk, men like Kaelandar Stark, Jerrin Crane, Owen Stark, and Caspian himself.

Her armor was much less bulky than the armor worn by the others, but due to the materials it was constructed from, had much the same protection. It was power armor, to a certain extent...but was a spot different from the 'walking-tank' stereotype.

She cradled a carbine in her arms, and an SMP-10 rode low on her right hip. But her weapons were the sabre and halfblade at her side. She was Fhellant'im. Caspian's protege, in fact. Not a 'great noble' as he was, but she was more suited to the sabre and halfblade anyways. The Warblade and Swordbreaker were deadly weapons in capable hands, yes, but they were also Weapons that needed anchoring, as it were.

Caspian smiled, and continued his playing. His own armor gleamed black beneath his black cape. Ascended War Armor. His weapons were arrayed about his person, Warblade at his left hip, situated for a cross-draw; Taker, his glaive, was on his back; his battle hammer offset his warblade on his right hip; twin bolt-pistols in drop-down holsters on either thigh.

Caspian quit his playing abruptly and slid his flute into the case on his belt. Almost the exact instant after that case snapped shut, the alert klaxon sounded.

His team got to their feet and walked down the hallway, performing last minute preparations as they went. Caspian's helmet went on at last, and he smiled a wicked smile.

They stepped into the Paladin's drop bay, and Caspian gave the team a final once-over. There were no flaws, but he found them anyways. It was necessary.

Then, having performed that ritual, they stepped into their drop pods. Insertion via drop pod was a bit less secretive than insertion via glider, yes, but secrecy was not the order of the day. Effectiveness was. Caspian walked along, checking the restraints and straps on each individual's pod, then sealing them shut. Finally, Caspian stepped into his own pod and strapped in.

The AI closed his pod automatically, and though a minor thing, that hurt him. It was part of being team leader, of course, but there was a bloody reason behind having another sentient seal one in one's pod.

Caspian sternly brought his focus back to the present, and he waited. Soon, the Paladin's orbit would bring it around over Allanea...and the pods would fire.

But first...

<Transmission to Allanean Space Command equivalent>
TO: Allanean Space Command or Equivalent
FROM: Office of the Warprince, AFESSR High Command, Northfell, Revenia
SUBJ: You can guess.

Be Aware that a Revenian Ship will soon be inserting from orbit a ten-man team of survey specialists for the purpose of locating grounds for the military base guaranteed within the terms of our agreement. These men are equipped fully for their mission, and require nothing from the government of Allanea but to be left alone.

Please note that we are fully aware of current conditions within Allanea. Thus, this is a military team. Thus, we have taken precautions. We feel that our team will be able to take care of itself, should it come across any of your 'rebels.' We are not worried about irregular guerrilas. We are worried about -you.-

Mistreatment of this team will bring consequences. They are in constant communication with both the ship they travelled upon and allied ships and installations on the planet. These ships and installations are in constant communication with Sol Station, and Sol Station is in constant communication with Fleet Central in Nexus.

Thus, We will know if you interfere with the team...and We will be most displeased. We have detached individuals important to ourselves to this team, for We believe that Our base in Allanea could well become a profitable and useful venture.

Should anything happen to these individuals, it would get personal. You don't want it to get personal.

-
Dysaryn Stark,
Warprince of Revenia
<Transmission Ends>

That message would have been received twenty nine minutes before Caspian Del'Riva stepped into his drop pod. It would be exactly thirty minutes after reception that the RNS Paladin would volley-launch a salvo of ten projectiles downwards towards Allanea. Drop pods, of course.

They would enter the atmosphere moving quickly, and at the proper point braking thrusters would fire. The pods would land and unfold like a flower would bloom. The team would offload, and the pods would fold up and return to the Paladin.

You see, they were not combat-insertion pods. They were 'landing pods.' Re-usable, as opposed to the one shot combat pods. They did not protect the individual inside as the one-shot pods did...but they were necessary.

Because out of his team, only Sev, Marc, and Caspian himself wore armor capable of combat insertion. Allanea had never experienced a Revenian combat insertion...and if they obeyed the Warprince, they never would.

But three Angel Regiments waited at Calirnevris...and hopefully they would simply keep on waiting. But if the team ran into difficulty, it was not merely likely, but damn near -assured,- that Allanea would have the honor of experiencing an insertion by not one but -three- full regiments of Revenia's elite drop troopers.

Caspian smiled as he surveyed the land around him, checked his terrain map and dead-reckoning system, gathered his team around him...and set out to begin his mission.

The Moon-Flame took only a moment to order the ranks of Barukzigil clamoring for success on his mission. They snapped to attention at his signal, and between the perfect rows of glimmering Silver Axes came twelve dwarves, moving purposefully, looking dark and saying nothing. All of them wore black armor and had the same general outfit as the Captain did, among them were the remnants of the team which had tried in Menelmacar and failed. They were the opposite of the Moon-Flame, he was brilliantly and blindingly white, they were like dark vacuums of black around him, like a reversed galaxy with a white hole in the center and black doing concentric circles around it. In the sun it would be hard to squeeze off a shot at the Captain, his armor reflected light at just the right angles to make squinting and averting of the eyes necessary, as did his snow-white hair. Nilôzôr had the gait of one who has stalked endless depths of the earth and battled endless horrors, Nameless Ones who would make his target look like a small, fluffly, somewhat developmentally challenged sheep. On his arms sat two things very like flamers seen on other Mobile Infantry and Space Marine designs, yet the killing agent inside them was very different. Overlaying and reinforcing his power armor and axe was mithril with protective runic magic woven into it, the best of craft, technology, and magic woven together into invincibility. In his arms was a very nasty shotgun perfect for close encounters and high accuracy, with a kickback like a gengineered mule that was a non-element due to both the Moon-Flame's strength and his armor. Black Galaxy, as the team was called affectionitely by the elite Barukzigil, was completely silent as it bordered the single stealthed to the point of absurdity (and one of the only one of its kind. Liangite battlefleets depended not on stealth but in the hulking mass of the carrier and its guardian, the battlecruiser). Now was the time of reckoning. The Moon-Flame was the reaper and a very unlikely target his harvest. As he boarded the Dargunarak, he gave a silent smile and a wave to his men, and set off into the belly of the whale.

Above the Earth, Antaru Rigul began moving some very massive, very dangerous battlefleets to a position in which a third grader would be able to tell could attack Allanea suddenly and ferociously, if need be. If Allanea didn't want to be destroyed, an analyst might think, it would need a shield of all its ships to block an incoming storm of destruction. Of course, whether the Star Marshal would try anything without Yorinaga's consent was left up in the air, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

In the Athiests' Reality, Liangite advisors aided Lord Movodor Alarin's troops in beginning a mass fortification of the border. Concentric trenches were dug, and redoubts which complemented each other in such a way so that if one fell the others did not were set up. Crossfire zones aided by minefields, implanted bombs, and strengthened barbwire were set up to herd any advancing men into a killzone in which they would meet enfilading fire. Areas in which the fortifications seemed weak were traps designed to draw enemies into more potent artillery or infantry attack. The Liangite Army specialized in static warfare, and they showed it in directing Movodor's army.

OOC: Any ubertech attacks are being ignored. I don't care if Allanea did respond to them. I don't play ubertech. So all this grav and dropship crap is flat out ignored. Sorry. If you want to try a more conventional way to interfere with my storyline, you are welcome to try.

*Announcement to the World from King Napoleon of Allanea*

This address is to government leaders as well as citizens. We have noticed large buildups of men and material on our borders. I urge the nations doing this to withdraw the buildup immediately.

We have an internal affair and have no external intentions. The men in the past who have lead Allanea into darkness and war are gone. Either they escaped or they were executed by my orders. This country is a Protectorate of the Crown of Greater Prussia, any advance on Allanea will bring the wrath of the entire Empire upon you.

You act as if no change has taken place. You attack and kill my men...both Allaneans and Reichskamphians and other Prussians...because you hated Allanea's past actions. Let me tell you again, the catalysts for those past misteps have been removed.

Let me also advise you that in Allanea, the Greater Prussian troops have not been recieved in the same manner as the Federation troops. We don't have to occupy every streetcorner for fear of an uprising. There are nearly 10 million Imperial troops in Allanea at present along with the Millions enlisted in the Allanean Imperial Guard, more than enough to deal with the socialists and anyone else who tries to impugn the sovreignty of this nation.

This is my last warning. Leave us alone, or you will have all Hell to pay...anyone found giving aid to the Socialists will be considered an enemy of the Empire and retaliatory action will likely be considered.

We are at peace with our neighbors...unless our neighbors attack us first.

His Royal Highness,
Napoleon Charles Francois de Sanglant
King of Allanea

OOC: Ehm.... :confused: :confused: You know we have that stuff, too, right?

IC:
In Perfection
Alexander smiled as he looked at the swarms of Ann Coulter craft fly over Perfection and listened to the whistle of the high-explosive munitions they dropped, drowning out the death-cries of the rebels by the roar of dozens of tons of explosives. But there was no times to gloat. Kazasnky kicked in the door of McPherson's headquarters and rushed in, rifle first. Behind him, he heard the clatter of 25mm autocannon, far, away. The Ronald Reagan division was finishing off McPherson's avant-garde.

Landing spot of the Revenians

An Allanean in powered armour awaited the men, smiling. He was carrying an ABR-25, a 25mm assault rifle built specifically for use by powered armour personnel.

"Good day. I am Colonel Jacobs, of the Libertarian Kingdom Marine Corps. You have landed within communist territory. My mission is to take you back to safety."

Just as the Colonel spoke, two men in worker's coveralls erupted from behind some log nearby, waving rifles and screaming some slogan. The Revenians never got out which slogan it was, as Colonel moved swifly - surprising for his the huge suit of powered armour - and punched oune of them in the face, ending his attack. The other one "occasionally" got in the way of the Colonel's knee, falling to the ground with a sickening sound of crushed ribs.

The Colonel turned to his guests.

"Damn commies. Anyway, welcome to Allanea."

OOC:

Im appauled by the amount of wanking done by Allanea. For some reason I believed it would never be as bad as everyone said...its worse! Where in gods name did this shattered nation get cloaking technology and Gravships? Especially when Reichskamphen has such complete control over it?

Anyway, Im outta of this thread cause I can see its going to be full of nothing but Allanean "self gratification". Im going the way of everyone else. Allanea isn't worth my time and I'll ignore him until he gets his act together and starts playing well with others.

And as far as Reichskamphens ignorance of Gravships and futuretech in this thread. I really think the player should do some reading. Allanea was blasted into the iron age by "Tomahawk Cruise Missiles" or any other modern equivalent. By signing on to take Allanea under his wing, he agreed to muck into the Futuretech world. By agreeing to it, he agreed to be exposed to this weaponry.

(OOC: Mmkay, Reichskamphen. Sorry for interfering with your story line. God forbid that any of us loser future-tech nations should ever deign to interfere with your grand plans and schemes.

No, seriously, please, ignore me. I don't care. I mean I -really- don't care. Ignore me, ignore my allies, ignore -Allanea itself...- No, really, PLEASE! It would make my life SO MUCH EASIER!

Now, sarcasm aside, I'll butt out if you want me to. But I really hate people who ignore some actions on base of 'über-tech,' but only when it is convenient. Now, I -know- that you have RPed with FSP before. I am -damn- aware that you have RPed with Melkor Unchained.

I know -DAMN WELL- that you have RPed with Allanea. If you don't like the future tech, then don't play with people who do the future tech. See, it is simple. If you hadn't gotten involved in Allanea, who is future tech, then I, a future tech player, wouldn't be muddling up your thread.

Sorry if any of that sounded remotely insulting, it wasn't meant to be. Well aware that the universe is unfair, and despite the feeling of 'damn, that would have been a good story,' I am willing to delete my post and prod the other coalition members into deleting theirs.

I'm not going to try and mold myself into your perfect little universe. I'll butt out if you want -and- Allanea want me to butt out. I'll be dissappointed and angry, but I'll do it.

Because in this one case, I came to Allanea. But I swear upon my name, that if -anything- Allanea, or extended further to Greater Prussia itself -ever- does -anything- that could even -slightly- affect me..(Like meddling with the Mercury system...)

Enough OOC. Sorry about all that. Little ired up, writing tends to help.)

IC:

Caspian squinted at Colonel Jacobs. His helmet was still secured, and the fully opaque face-plate was vacuum-tight. Thus, his squinting increased zoom and resolution on the Allanean's figure, as well as calling up a number of sensory scans on the side-bar.

His speech, however, was unimpeded by the closed-helmet, coming out clearly through the speaker mounted approximately where his mouth would normally be.

"Ahh, hello Colonel. Caspian Del'Riva, Hand of the Warprince. Thank you for the warning, but it was quite un-necessary. We're aware of the threat, and I assure you that we can deal with anything we can't avoid, and avoid anything we can't deal with. Anyways, we don't really -want- to head to someplace safe. In fact, we'd appreciate it to no end if you might possibly just leave us the hell alone so we can do our job and get the hell out of here, you'd have our eternal thanks."

Thus stated, Caspian made a few quick motions that brought his team into formation and set off, leaving the Colonel behind. Caspian himself carried no weapon at the ready, but those who had longarms carried them. These were individuals who were at home in hostile environments, a nice little collection of some of the deadliest people ever spawned from the Supremacy.

Which was, of course, the bloody idea. After all, their mission -was- a matter of Honor. And for Caspian, it was personal. He'd lost his brother to Menelmacari plasma fire...his brother, who had never been a soldier. He was an -interrogator- for christsake...an yes, Caspian blamed the elves for his brother's death...and the Bane Sidhe skull-and-rune ring not visible on his right ring finger surprised few people...

But he also blamed the Allaneans in general and Alexander Kazansky in particular. Because they were the reason that the Xanthos' strike team, sent by mistake or not, had been sent at all. So, yes, he had volunteered for this mission. Surveying and spotting for the new base...and in typical Revenian fashion, putting a little Chaos into a situation.

Caspian reached up and pushed his helmet's visor up and back, it seemed to retract fully into the helmet itself. He removed his flute from its case and set it to his lips and began to play. The melody was somewhat vague, but Tanner laughed aloud upon hearing it, and dedicated himself to the words.

Tanner was, surprisingly, a rather good singer, though 'good' in the way that a fighting-man sung, which was a far cry from the way your average civilian would sing...

So they wandered on, accompanied by Caspian's flute and Tanner's voice, a-singing...


The strength of twice three thousand horse
That seeks the single goal;
The line that holds the rending course,
The hate that swings the whole;
The stripped hulls, slinking through the gloom,
At gaze and gone again --
The Brides of Death that wait the groom --
The Choosers of the Slain!


-End-

(Words to 'song' are from 'Destroyers' by Rudyard Kipling)

OOC: Ooh, boy. Reichskamphen, I hate to say it, but I'm gonna have to side with them, this time.

You took Allanea under your wing, you RPed with Allanea, you RP with his tech.

This is why I'm getting my Space Empire back.

Sorry, bud. :(

OOC: Right, I think Auman and Revenia summed up what I wanted to say.



The Dolgunarak sped with incredible yet still slightly STL speed across the Bryn Shander border, carrying the Silver Axes and their Captain, zooming across Allanea to postion themselves, still quite cloaked, over the center of the communist movement. Intelligence, this time, was much, much better. Pods disengaged and spread a variety of radar targets across the board as the Barukzigil descended and came out swiftly, the Moon-Flame foremost of them. The fighter shield had been the only concern, but when the relative speeds, and the Dolgunarak's built-in-stealth, the best in the dwarven-built Star Navy, no one much was worried. If detected, the ship would immediately change its radar signals to that of an Ann Coulter fighter, blending in with the many already overhead. If even that ruse was seen through, by then it would be too late, and the Moon-Flame would have touched down. The Dolgunarak might be set upon, but the team was all that mattered, and with an extra burst of speed would avoid enough enemies to make it where it wanted to go.

It really had been only a matter of careful guesswork and investigation. 'If I were the leader of a communist movement, where would I be and who would have the hubris to come after me in the middle of my stronghold?' Why, you'd have to be a very arrogant, practically immortal and glory-seeking attention whore, Nilôzôr reasoned, and, of course, where he now stood was not too far from the headquarters of McPherson himself. Communists who ran up and started firing were met with A). A huge exploding slug to the chest, B) a stream of Dwarven Fire, a liquid fire that burned on any and everything, or C) A huge, mithril-sheathed, and rune-enscribed power axe to the neck. All three methods worked at once, the team moving in absolute concert from all directions before moving on in towards the building. But first, a relay to the Revenians asking where they were and how fast it would take them to get to the dwarven team's general area came. The dwarves' wouldn't wait long, time was of the essence, and a certain man (or godling, as it may be) was waiting for them. Already the black galaxy of death, the one star among singularities, was working like a very angry tornado towards McPherson's HQ. "But what," said a little voice in the back of Nilôzôr's head, "would he be wearing?" Where had he come from? That was easy, Menelmacar. And knowing him, he probably requested aid from the Starqueen. So he was looking for either Mornahosse equipment or Menelmacari dress, failing that, a single man charging into the midst of the building alone.

The silent team moved purposefully, running with the speed of those who have had just a bit too much adrenaline mixed with a dash of terrible vengeance. Rays of sunlight heralded the coming of dawn and doom for Kazansky, and with the Revenians, who the Moon-Flame acknowledged as being much better at this, dwarven honor would remain intact. Armed to the teeth and with not a small amount of excitement, the Avenger of thousands of dead dwarves was fast closing in on his victim.

The message was received by Evan Callahan, transferred directly to Caspian...and replied to. The reply was as follows:

"Location noted, will investigate over that way...wait for us. -Caspian Del'Riva, Hand of the Warprince."

And they began to run. Those without power-armor were hefted effortlessly by those with, and the natural speed of a Revenian, which was already increased by a considerable amount due to the fact that Revenians were a race that had evolved on a two-gee planet...and Earth was -not- a two gee planet...was then multiplied by the power armor...

Meaning that once those boys took up the ground-devouring Fhellanti lope, they were moving as quick as a rather speedy car. Presumably we can all skip the play-by-play on the travel...

But highlights would include: When Josiah hit a deer; Caspian throwing a hostile commie at the horse the hostile commie rode in on; and the beautiful power-assisted jump that landed the team about two meters from the Dorfies.

Caspian smiled at Mr. Moon Flame, bowed slightly...and indicated with his hands that they should carry on.

OOC: Auman, there's been like a dozen threads on the rebuilding of Allanea, and I think it's not my problem you haven't read them. Look them up.

Liang, he's not coming from Menelmacar. Not to my knowledge, anyhow.

Reichskamphen, it seems I will have to apply my technologies to them. Let's roll.


IC:

Perfection

The door to McPherson's "study" blew open, as the remnants of one of the Comrade's guards where thrown through it with inhuman force. Kazansky stared with disbelief at the man he faced.

McPherson was nothing if not stereotypical. Long hair, goatee, even a Lenin portrait on the wall. In the early days of Allanea, Kazansky has met many like McPherson - and has worked all his life to rid Allanea of their influence. And yet, here it was. The face of evil. Staring right back at him on his own soil in his own land.

There was just one thing to do.

Kazansky took off his helmet.

"President Kazansky..." - gasped McPherson in realisation, just as the former ruler of Allanea lunged at the throad of it's would-be usurper.

* * * * *

Elsewhere

The Miriel nos Feanor, the flagship of the Allanean Stellar Navy, hovered silently in the air above the rebels, inspiring terror into their hearts with the sheer sight of it's two-mile hull, blasting away with dozens of beam cannons, launching hundreds of Ann Coulter Mark VII fighter-bombers, and dozens of gunships. It was the faithful creation of Kazansky's insane mind - the ultimate weapon.

Within several minutes of this mayhem, the rebel lines broke and they fled towards perfection, pursued by the Allaneans, like deer in a massive hunt unlike any other ever seen.

* * * * *

In Perfection

Kazansky sighed as he cleaned McPherson's blood of his glasses, and then spoke into his helmet.

"Alpha, this this is Alexander Kazansky. Identification code is Alpha, Delta, Bravo. I cannot take time to explain, but I'm in McPherson's study. He's dead. There's a small rebel force in the city, please send some light TACAIR and extraction and we can all go home. Over."

The ISASF Sol Fleet watched from Lunar Orbit over Allanea as the Socialist Uprising in Allanea crumbled. 2 Genesis-class Colony Ships, modified for troop transport, had been kept at the rear to evacuated any remaining socialist forces, but with the gravship overhead, it would be next to impossible to land, let alone take on survivors.

"ISASF Command, this is the ISASF 'Typhoon'," Fleet Admiral Jack Newman, brother of President James Newman, radioed to Newman Station. "The Socialist Uprising appears to be on the verge of complete destruction. Looks like we're not going to be able to help our comrades."

"Roger that, 'Typhoon'," A tinny voice replied from the headset. "Stay in position and await further orders."

On Approaches to Perfection

Robert Davidson, Combat Auditor, believed in a hands-on approach. He believed he must experience the same suffering his troops went through in order to, well, treat their injured souls right when they came back. Which is why, right now, he was right there with the boys of the Storm Battalion, Ronald Reagan PAD, the first approaching Perfection, as a simple soldier of the line.

He was holding on to an Annihilator Mk II machinegun - in powered armour configuration. He lifted the weapon and fired a long, long burst of high-explosive fragmenting rounds, sweeping the main street of the city. Next to him, his squad erupted in a storm of fire, steel, and smokes, sweeping the street clean of socialist resistance. Several wooden houses were set alight after catching some stray rounds. When the clatter of the oversized weapons died down, the Auditor turned to his left, only to see the Revenian team approaching them.

He waved to them in a semblance of a salute: "Good day, Amigos! Revenian assistance, I see? " If he weren't wearing powered armour, they could have seen the CA lift an eyebrow. As it was, the steel helmet seemed perfectly emotionless. "Robert Davidson, Combat Auditor, at your service. Care to give Alpha Team here some covering fire while they go in?"

In the space the gathering Thelasi warfleets had assembled... now they merely watched, and waited...

It had taken only a moment for the Moon-Flame to calculate the sounds of gunfire erupting in the building as his target scaled the building, listening with superhuman ears aided by augs, pinpointing the location with the mind of an overtrained killer with acute senses that would have made the Tell-Tale Heart look like an 80-year old with Hearing Aid. The powered, runic-encribed armor he and his ten teammates were in pressed against the ground with amazing force, shooting up one, two, then half of the third story, where they busted into a window. A second jump propelled them higher, higher, and then through the window that overlooked the street. The previous adrenaline rush became as nothing when compared to the proverbial opening of the floodgates.

The Captain and his ten black stars erupted into the office with nary a pause, and came face to face with the Former President For Life, rogue leader, dangerous outlaw, Disciple of the Black Enemy, Dwarven Enemy #1, and all-around bad guy Alexander Kazansky. Nilôzôr could hardly believe that such a scrawny looking human had caused such pain and misery to the world.

Of course, that was why he was here. To end it and revenge himself and the dwarven race's honor on this man.

"Alexander Kazansky, you have two seconds to surrender. One." Ten explosive slugs were just itching for a chance to bury themselves in Kazansky's skin, and the Moon Flame removed Burkushathur, the axe that had seen him through numerous encounters with the dark things that gnawed the earth's roots, from its sheath and advanced quickly, still ready to spring aside. Twenty hand flamers, primed with Dwarven Fire, locked on to the President-For-Life. Ten axes were unsheathed and moved forward menacingly. And Alexander Kazansky had one second left.

Alexander Kazansky smiled. "I give up."

He raised both hands. "I think you better look behind you, though."

If the dwarves looked behind them, they would see, hovering in mid-air outside the window on it's gravitic drive, a silent form made of total black, bristiling with not one, not two, but thirty-one various automatic weapons, from 30mm autocannons to 7.62mm machineguns, to high-accuracy particle beam cannons, an Ann Coulter Mark VII transathmospheric fighter.

Kazansky smiles: "Gentlemen, as I said, I give up. But are you really, but really sure you got the right man?"

Dwarves don't commit suicide easily. They'd much rather live and fight another day, even when they are facing down the number one enemy of their race at the time. The urge to suicide is just not built-into them.

Of course, no one said anything about suicide. There was the small matter of a fighter outside the window, but that was easily taken care of. From among the thousands of Ann Coulter fighters that were strafing rebels came a single one, a radar-blip that gave out the message that it was aiding the advance fighter on its mission to exterminate black ops.

With a speed that an Ann Coulter fighter could not have, the Dolgunarak sped out of its place over the building, decloaked (but retained the Ann Coulter radar signature) and focused a very nasty array of gauss and plasma weaponry onto the Ann Coulter.

The Allanean fighter had two choices: Remain still and get blown away, or dodge.

In the office, the Moon-Flame knew exactly what was going on. A single wave of his gauntleted hand and ten explosive rounds were fired. All time seemed to stand still as the slugs glided gracefully threw the air, with accuracy honed by 200 years of stalking and killing.

Twenty flamers of Dwarven Fire erupted, and the liquid fire shot in perfect, pressurized streams, aimed at Alexander Kazansky's legs, the same target of the slugs.

This all took less than a fraction of a second. In the next fraction all ten calculated the angles it would take for power-axes 1-10 to intersect Kazansky's neck, and lunged with the speed and power of a smallish freight train at what they hoped would be a mangled, blazing corpse. Brilliant, mithril-encrusted axes empowered by runemasters added to the chaos of the Dargunarak's barrage outside and the simultaneous assault outside. The Captain of the Silver Axes gave a joyous shout as his axe plunged forward towards destiny. "Khuzdul udrig ai-menu!"

Alexander Kazansky alway knew he could do better than humans. He just never knew how good he really was. The Valar, for reasons they only knew - perhaps as punishment, perhaps as a gift - gave him no memory of who he was or what he could do. Given that he did not rembember the Song, it was probably punishment.

Of course, he never knew just how good he was, too. Maybe it was a gift.

One cannot dodge a laser beam. Some can dodge bullet, but it's nearly impossible.. But what one can do, if one is good enough, is notice when your opponent is just started pulling the trigger on his beam weapon, flamethrower, or whatever.

For Kazansky, time slowed down. He saw, in his minds eye, the dwavers fingers move off the sides of the slides of their weapons and move towards the trigger guards. His feet detached involuntarily from the floor in a form of weird jump as his hand jerked to his holster. The fingers of the dwarves dropped on the triggers, and Alexander reached foor the door frame while still in mid-air - for him, he was slow, too slow. The dwarves began pulling the triggers, just the Kazansky jerked himself out of the room. Still, he was too slow, and he was hit by some of the flamethrowers and the bullets. Somehow, he was alive. Scorched, wounded and alive.

Alive enough to hear the Ann Coulter Mark VII crush into the wall of the room he just was in as he faded into unconsciousness.

OOC:

I think Im going to rescind that ignore on you Allanea...hrmmm...Just as conveniently as you had that Anne Coulter outside the window, an Aumanii SHOK Patrol was sweeping the same building Kazansky was in...wow.

IC:

A great deal of equipment was unloaded in Perfection before the disasterous ambush that claimed the lives of thousands of fleet personnel. Namely, a tank platoon and 12 members of a special observer force. Captain Petain lead his squad through the shattered streets of the city, dodging the enemy and engaging them when necessary. With the firepower of the hovertanks and their incredible training, The SHOK team was a force to be dealt with. 'Captain... one of the soldiers said sharply, pointing out a stout, slade grey building. 'Thats McPhersons command center Captain, I remember it from the briefings. Captain Petain nodded and waved the tanks off the road, they hid in a parking garage, blocking off the two entrances, and moving themselves into the hull down position behind some support pillars.

With out as much as a word the squad split, six men stay to protect the tanks and the other six, with Captain Petain and his intelligence officer, moved towards the building cautiously, nearly being spotted by aircraft several times. Breaching the front door was a snap, no one was there to stop them...it seemed too easy, if this was truly the headquarters of Comrade McPherson it should be more heavily defended, though on the other hand, Allaneans were generally incompetant.

The men stalked the halls with a ruthless precision, checking every corner for the enemy, kicking in doors and shooting no one, the HQ was deserted as it seemed and the team almost left thinking they had gotten the wrong place until they were proven otherwise. A door crashed open and a young man fell unconcious, a deafening boom was heard and the room he had came from fell into darkness. Captain Petain ordered his Intel officer to check the man first to see if it was McPherson and as he crept upto the crumpled figure he started to recognize certain features about him that distinguished him not as comrade McPherson but as...'Well, well well...I'll be the son of a goat thief! Its Kazansky!' exclaimed the Intel officer, Captain Petain wasting no time, pushed the Intel officer to the side, levelled his rifle and fired off three rounds into Kazansky's head, then decided to empty his entire magazine, a fifty round drum, into the crumpled form. Slinging his rifle onto his back Petain drew his side arm and fired all of its rounds into Kazansky's head, dropping his side arm he proceded to decapitate Kazansky with his ceremonial Khukri, given to him by the Ghurka's he had trained with in his time spent on Earth. 'There is no doubt now. Kazansky is dead.' proclaimed Captain Petain proudy, tying Kazansky's head to his belt by his long hair.

Just as conveniently as you had that Anne Coulter outside the window, an Aumanii SHOK Patrol was sweeping the same building Kazansky was in...wow.


OOC: Umm, Kazansky actually called for such support by radio beforehand.

*waits for Auman to re-work previous post*

How Kazansky had anticipated augmented speed moving fast enough to pull a trigger was dismissed as some very lucky reaction times. The plane's slight acceleration was not quick enough to catch the incredible armored leap that had started before it began its attempt at crushing them. The Ann Coulter was not so lucky. Plasma weapons and gauss slugs tore through it, ripping it apart and leaving the gravitic fighter in ruins. The first drenching of plasma annihilated the cockpit while two gauss slugs decimated the gravitic engine, making it a non-equation. The Dolgunarak veered up from the wreckage and hovered overhead.

"I don't think so." Inside the building, ten armored suits came after the fleeing Kazansky. Two exploding slugs and a stream or two of Dwarven Fire had caught the mark, and now his legs were mangled and burning. He was also unconscious. Then the Captain did something odd. He poured vinegar mixed with sand from the other side of the container that held Dwarven Fire onto Kazansky's legs, practically the only thing that could extinguish the material. Ten dwarves re-trained everything they had on Kazansky from all directions, and this time he was on unconcious.

With no hesitation whatsoever, the Moon-Flame, White Death of Kazansky, raised the Burkushathur and let it fall, as gracefully as a huge axe being shearn downwards with incredible force can be. He wiped sweat off his brow with his other hand, and let out a huge sigh of relief.

(OOC: Note to self: Don't write big long posts when you're trying to off somebody, people come in and make them pointless. Ahh well...)

On first glance, Caspian Del'Riva's War Armor appeared to be simple power armor, perhaps a little sleeker, certainly a strange style...but it didn't look particularly special, other than that.

It was Ascended War Armor. Tens of millions of years of combat and development, all boiled down to produce the 'ultimate' personal armor...

War Armor.

No more than five hundred suits had ever existed at any one time...among a fighting population that numbered in the millions...

Armor that was practically identical to that worn by the Warprince himself, though lacking the sophisticated interface systems required to sit the Black Throne...

He jumped...and flew. Gravitic-slope propulsion, mounted around the waist of the suit...effective, simple, and not too much of a power drain...not that it mattered. Revenian armor didn't run off bloody batteries, after all...

So, Caspian Del'Riva, the man called 'Soultaker,' Kendrikalis' Champion, crashed through the wall of a certain building, into a room on the fifth story, housing a collection of Dorfs and one corpse...

Caspian stepped forward, removing his helmet and the right gauntlet of his armor, which was removable, unliked the left gauntlet...

He slid his warblade from its sheath, the pure-black blade and its simple, unadorned guard and grip, with the fat black diamond in the pommel...came to rest its tip on Kazansky's chestbone...

He spoke rapidly, High Ascended, untranslateable...

and one learned why he was called The Soultaker...

There were no special effects, no rising music...no nothing...

Just a flicker in the cold, cold silver eyes of the tall Halfling Ascended killer...

"It is done..."

Now, that was what happened on the -outside-

on the inside...

Caspian hated this...but it was necessary. The words came naturally to him, as they always did...they were a side-effect, not the cause...and the conduit formed.

Kazansky was a bright glimmer in a dark body, and time was running out...Caspian acted. The glimmer was extinguished...the only noticeable exterior effect was hidden by Caspian's arm...because the black diamond in Ravenblade's pommel seemed to glow with a slight inner light...

Which was unremarkable among Warblades...

but it hadn't a moment before...because it hadn't been holding the soul of Alexander Kazansky from passing on to whatever his next step in life was...

Caspian reached down and picked up Kazansky's head. He nodded slowly, and produced a bag from his belt..before he put the head in the bag...he closed Kazansky's eyelids. He then returned the bag to his belt, where it hung as a black weight upon his armored hip...

"Take his body. Cut it up. Make it into amulets or whatever the hell you want to do with it. Sell his fingerbones as relics, it doesn't matter...just don't destroy it, and don't keep it together."

He did not explain why...he could not make that choice for them...he could only keep such a promising soul from going to waste...as his Warprince ordered.

Yet there was still one thing left to do...and he smiled a bittersweet smile, because the man whose 'soul' now existed in a gem had been a hero to his people, and so, for that people...he spoke...

"The, Gods that are wiser than Learning
But kinder than Life have made sure
No mortal may boast in the morning
That even will find him secure.
With naught for fresh faith or new trial,
With little unsoiled or unsold,
Can the shadow go back on the dial,
Or a new world be given for the old?
But he knows not that time shall awaken,
As he knows not what tide shall lay bare,
The heart of a man to be taken --
Taken and changed unaware.

He shall see as he tenders his vows
The far, guarded City arise --
The power of the North 'twixt Her brows --
The steel of the North in Her eyes;
The sheer hosts of Heaven above --
The grey warlock Ocean beside;
And shall feel the full centuries move
To Her purpose and pride.

Though a stranger shall he understand,
As though it were old in his blood,
The lives that caught fire 'neath Her hand --
The fires that were tamed to Her mood.
And the roar of the wind shall refashion,
And the wind-driven torches recall,
The passing of Time and the passion
Of Youth over all!
And, by virtue of magic unspoken
(What need She should utter Her power?)
The frost at his heart shall be broken
And his spirit be changed in that hour --
Changed and renewed in that hour!"

(A Rector's Memoryl: Rudyard Kipling)

OOC:

Allanea, ICly it was always the mission of the SHOK team to link up with Comrade McPherson. There will be no rework. The Team was where they were supposed to be.

OOC:

"Streaks of incandescent light filled the Allanean sky, brilliant in their intensity. Unmarked Aumanii Gravships made their way through the atmosphere, falling towards Perfection." What does that mean to you? To me that means troops and "Observers" were in the area before the fleet got destroyed, the Observers were supposed to make their way to Comrade McPherson. Dont debate me on this, you shot down 7 Gravships, I can have at least this.

Anyhow, I was right the first time...this is a god damn waste of time.

OOC: OK people. You killed Kazansky. Enjoy it.

IC:The Combat Auditor kicked in the door of McPherson's HQ and rushed up the stair, his powered armour leaving deep marks on the wooden floor. His men followed.

As he reached the top, one glance at Kazansky's fallen body told him all he needed to know. He was late. He smiled insanely as he aimed his Annihilator at the dwarves.

The Combat Auditor never got the chance. Augmented hearing told the dwarves he was coming, but rather than risk fighting him they ripped through the ceiling and landed on the roof, where the Dargunarak now hovered, doors open wide. McPherson and Kazansky's bodies were both in hand, the dwarves leaping with incredible speed into the Dargunarak, where they landed effortlessly. The jet-black ship, previously under the radar signal of an Ann Coulter, cloaked once again, speeding off into the atmosphere, towards Bryn Shander territory. No one would have to know the dwarves had touched down. No one would have to know the Revenian combat team had Kazansky's soul. And when the Moon-Flame turned the bodies in for a hefty reward, no one would have to know that Kazansky (minus a head, which had been graciously donated to the Revenians) had been killed by the Captain of the Barukzigil, the White Death, Nilozor of Northwestern Liang. Until, of course, he had gotten the hell out of dodge.

OOC: Ok, ok. You're right. My appologies. You don't need to be bitter.

I will unignore it all.

SDI Headquarters, Reichskamphen

"Enemy Vessels have been detected entering Imperial Airspace. Taking action now." the Soldier manning the defense post shouted to the SDI Hauptmann.

"Affirmative. Blow 'em to hell." the Hauptmann responded.

Nearly 50 V-4SI (Starcraft Interceptor) missiles fired from Silos in Allanea and in the Empire Proper. These were the classic V-4 missiles (Mentioned earlier) except these missiles had engines able to keep up with and even outpace many starcraft and gravships.

As the missiles approached their targets, the turned their shields on to maximum and began scanning the enemy vessels for shields. If they had shields, the missiles own shields adjusted to its frequency, and if the shields were on a rotating frequency...then the frequency of the Missiles shields rotated in tandem, which meant that the missiles would slip right through, dessimating the ships.

Every single entity that was detected by the most advanced detection systems, some have contended, in the universe...was targeted and had a missile sent at it while from the ground, Coil Guns began opening fire rapidly on any starcraft or gravships in the atmosphere.

In Allanea, King Napoleon's armies, now reinforced with the Sola Fide Division had decreased the Communist Territory to a mere four square miles where a few thousand Communists...the last ones left...fought like trapped rats.

The order was given to launch nearly 400 conventional V-3 missiles, (about the destructive power of a Scud) into the Communist formations as the Allanean Royal Artillery saturated the area with conventional and incendiary shells, hoping to even burn them out.

Overhead, Coulters strafed and bombed any gathering for 7 or more people in the Communist area as well as any standing structure. Be it a house, a bank, a daycare, or a hospital, it was gutted by bombs and missiles because the Communists could not be allowed to survive not one.

The Royalist soldiers who stood on the ridges beyond, observing the horrid affair, could only see what appeared to be hell on earth with pires of flames tickling the sky, black clouds of acrid smoke rising steadily, and thousands of constant, unrelenting explosions from the missiles, the bombs, and the artillery.

After a 3 hour bombardment from land and air, the Royalist forces were ordered to move in. Per the request of the Allanean Commanders, the Red Hand Division and the other men of the Allanean Imperial Guard were allowed to be the first in. This triumph over Communism would go a long way towards the restoration of national pride.

Resistance was expected to be light...after all...with not a single building standing and everythign pretty much on fire...who could be left alive. Regardless, if they encountered any human being not in an Imperial Uniform, they were to be shot and killed on sight.

With the attack of the starcrafts on Allanea...it became appallingly clear to the Empire that something needed to be done. The Starfleet needed to return to orbit the Empire as opposed to exploring about. The Starfleet that was built by and swore personal allegiance to the Emperor was relatively small...but the fleets of nations in the Empire were not. And they augmented the Imperial Starfleet quite greatly.

The entire fleet moved into orbit over Allanea, as it was the most recent recipiant of attacks and it was within short distance of the Empire itself. Forming into a defensive posture, they awaited the exit of Starcraft from Allanea or any possible further incursions.

On the ground, the Imperial SDI prepared for the possibility that these attacks were merely a feint and that the real attack was to be a full invasion and assault on either Allanea or the Empire. The defense systems stood on high alert and prepared themselves for any eventuality.

As the Imperial Guard combed the rebel terrirory, they were aided by many local farmers whose relatives where killed by the communists. Supporters of the Emperor wore patches in the colours of the LKA flag - red, white, and blue - to avoid being confused with the rebels.

As the socialists tried to find shelter from the wrath of the King, the Emperor, and the people of Allanea, they were often killed by the very workers whom they planned to "liberate" in their misguided folly.

Of course, the raging crowds and skilled soldiers that followed them often caused "undue collateral damage". That, too, was added to the bill Allanea had with socialism.

"This is GPNN, the Greater Prussian News Network." A deep voice boomed.

The Camera zoomed in on a woman and a man sitting at a news desk. "Welcome back to our continuing coverage of Socialist attacks in Allanea." the woman said rather seriously. "We have breaking news."

The camera switched to the man. "General Matthieu Gillot, the Adjunctant General of King Napoleon de Sanglant has just released a statement from his forward headquarters in the South of Allanea. The General has announced that the Sola Fide division of the Imperial Guard is returning to Reichskamphen as planned now and that other Guard units pulled from other parts of Allanea are returning to their regular post as the recently formed AVF Red Hand Division is given control of the former Socialist holding...which are all but rubble and ashes now."

"Wait..." the woman placed her hand to her ear. "I am getting word that the King is just about to speak."

The cameras changed to a view of the Press Room at the Royal Residence. Reporters were taking thier seats and the podium, affixed with the seal of the Kingdom stood empty. Suddenly the two Royal Guardsmen standing by the door snapped to attention, sending a commotion through the room. The King then walked through the door in a simple, green Royal Guard Private's uniform...with a few minor embellishments...and approached the Podium.

"Citizens of Allanea." he began. "Today, you have seen the power of freedom. The brave men and women of the Allanean Armies and the Imperial Armies have let the world hear their voice, and see their abilities. Today, I officially declare victory over the Socialist Armies of McPherson!"

The reporters from the Empire in the room burst into applause.

"God has preserved this nation...this people...throughout the ages because we are given a monumental task...to spread and support freedom. What the brave men and women of the Kingdom have done today has struck down the greatest enemies of freedom in the world today...the Socialist/Communist hordes that knaw at the very fabric of society and seek to destroy not only it, but the world itself."

Another, softer round of applause was heard.

"In honour of this victory, and this proof that Allanea is ready, I am now authorizing the departure of several divisions of the Allanean Imperial Guard, should they wish to depart, in order to form the Allanean Royal Army...an army financed by the State, not the Empire...and an Army controlled by the State...not the Empire!

This time the reporters in the room, especially the Allanean ones, stood up and cheered...almost to the point of breaking eardrums.

"It is now seen as the necessary time to begin the process of holding local elections and phasing out the thousands of Imperial officials that have been plugged in to spots on the local levels. The Congress and City Council shall all have elections for their posts and the governors of Allanea shall now be elected. And as such, I shall now announce the formation of three political parties...any other parties wishing to run, need merely to organize themselves and apply for Party status at the nearest Government office. The parties are as following, the Libertarian Royalist Party (Conservative), the Libertarian Nationalist Party (Don't let the name fool you, they are Moderate), and the Reform Party (Liberal).

With the last roud of applause, the King leaned forward and said. "I will now open up the floor for questions."

OOC: So, if any of you have questions about anything, feel free to ask.

The Latest Breaking News reporter was sitting in the back of the room. She had been one of the only reporters not cheering, possibly because her homeland had seen one too many Allanean acts of aggression.

She nervously stood up, as she felt that her countrymen needed to have one important question answered.

"Your Majesty, will the Greater Prussian Empire take any action to ensure that the new Allanean Royal Army does not take offensive action against its neighbors such as Goobergunchia?"

She curtsied respectfully and quickly sat down.

The Socialist Union of Kerla wishes to extend ammesty to any person fleeing the repressive regime of the Allanean government or any government entity of the Greater Prussian Empire.

We will not discriminate against anybody for any reason.

Rachel Nelson
Director of Diplomacy
Socialist Union of Kerla

"Thankyou for your question." the King smiled. "I assure you, that unless agression by Goobergunchia is found, or a conspiracy to undo the government or nation of Allanea is found, there will be no aggression against Goobergunchia or any other state in the NationStates world. The days of sidearm diplomacy are over. The Greater Prussian Empire reserves the right to use force whenever it is necessary, yet we have not, by my recollection, deployed Greater Prussian troops on foreign soil for an aggressive act in the history of the Empire. It is inconcievable that we should start now."

The King took a sip from a glass of water sitting under the top of the podium.

"Also, Alexander Kazansky is dead. I am the head of state in Allanea. I have brought this country back from nothing...I don't want to see it crashed upon the rocks by needless aggression. The official policy of Allanea will be no aggression unless aggressed upon. Goobergunchia, I assure you, is safe."

"Next Question?"

As the roar of the "Unbiased Media" died down and his Goobergunchian colleague had spoken, Jirry Tyrel stood up, dataslate in hand he spoke in the clear, thick, accent that distinguished him as an Aumanii.

'Jirry Tyrel, Aumanii Communications Enterprise. I just wanted to ask a few questions. First among them. Lord Napolean, on the issue of the campaign you have just undertaken, there have been several uncomfirmed reports of horrendous violations of human rights. Ive been hearing accusations against Reichskamphen troops of Murder, Rape and Theft. There have been several damning orbital photographs that will be released in tonights broadcast. I was just wondering what you had to say about that?' Tyrel stopped for a moment to scroll through his notes. Clearing his throat he started to talk once more. 'Secondly, why was their not an attempt to broker a peace deal? Obviously there was a real want for choice by this group of voters to make a change. This leads to my third question. Why was there not a Socialist party added to the ballot? Seeing as their has already been an armed uprising over this issue and that a signifigant portion of the population believes in that form of government, it would only make sense to have it.'Jirry Tyrel waited intently for the answers to his questions, fixing King Napolean with an icy stare.

"First, it is King, not Lord." Napoleon began, sensing the reporter's aggression. "Secondly, these accusations against Reichskamphian troops are patently falst. However, we have heard reports and seen the footage you are referring to. These were men of the recently formed Red Hand division in the Allanean Guard. However...I will take the blame for this. The order to send the men into that village were mine. My orders were to wipe it off the map due to reports that it had been a thorn in the side of the Guard and its inhabitants had been killing Imperial troops. At the time the footage you are referring to was released, we had assumed the operation had been a complete foul up and we had gotten the target wrong. However, if you will examine the footage from an hour before the attack, you will notice, as we noticed, an exodus from the village of armed men. These were the Communist soliders we were targeting. You will also notice in the footage, Communist flags flying from every house and the remaining militants that did attempt to engage our forces." He took another sip of water.

"The target, we now know, was correct. However...what occured there was far from it. I had learned from intelligence that all women, children, and innocents had been removed from the front lines...which this area was near the front. And in this footage...which shows a woman and child as well as a school teacher and children. I will refer you to the patch on the woman's arm. This patch bares a red star...and the children, oddly enough, seemed to have the same patches. It seems these were the people that were shooting at our forces in the hour after the forces had shifted to make us believe that there had been no shift in forces. These were not innocent people...but...that doesn't mean you should do the things that were done. The captain that ordered these attacks and the soldiers that were complicit in it...this being the 15 people who were most responsible for the brutality...have been thrown into jail and will soon be tried and executed for Crimes of War."

"As for your next question. Why did I not seek a peaceful solution?" he asked with near incredulity. "These people overthrew the local governments in their area and MURDERED tens of thousands of citizens of Allanea as well as Imperial Soldiers. They didn't present a peaceful petition for us to review....they didn't present a peaceful march of protest...they presented war...they presented murder...they presented brutality and terrorism. I will never negotiate with anyone using these tactics. This was an act of war. We responded in kind."

"Furthermore, to answer where there isn't a socialist party. The most apparant answer to this is that all the Socialists are dead. Secondly, I think what has just occured can answer this question as well. Socialism and Communism are catalysts for turmoil and murder and destruction...we have just seen it first hand. Why would we willingly allow the fox in the henhouse? However, if it were the will of the people...we would have allowed it. But Allanea has never liked socialism. These people who rose up were those who suffered the most from the previous occupation and have not gone as far towards recovery as the rest of the nation has. All polls that have been taken in Allanea hardly even show token support for socialism. If you think it is a popular philosophy here, you obviously don't know Allanea."

"Next Question?"b

OOC: Ha! All the socialists are dead. Nice. :)

I'd help, but I'm just NOW rediscovering my space Empire.

'Well Comrade Napoleon. If Socialism has never been so popular in this "democratic" Allanea, why were these people so adamant in bring about its dominance? Knowing the history of Allanea, I can understand why Socialism is not popular. Ignorance in most cases, intimidation and ruthless suppression in the others. I understand it now Comrade Napoleon. Socialism is being suppressed in Allanea by the Royalist dictatorship. Thank you comrade, that is all.' Jirry sat down, laying his dataslate on his lap and unzipping his bomber jacket.

OOC: Do you realize what would happen if a Reporter did something like that in a whitehouse press conference. It's simply bad manners. If you wished to talk to Napoleon about this, and for that matter, if you still have questions and wish to address him with your opinion...just request an audience...he will more than likely grant it. Just not with that reporter, because he will more than likely remember him.

IC: Napoleon, realizing that this journalist was obviously one of the "unbiased media" himself, chose to ignore the reporters comment which was completely out of line at a press conference and should have been restrained to opinion sections of CNN. He instead spoke over him addressing a Reichskamphian reporter in the room and instructed him to simply speak over the rude Aumani.

"Your Highness," the reporter began, straining his voice to yell over the Aumani. "You do indeed claim responsibility for the deaths of these people in the village?"

"Yes." Napoleon sighed. "As commander of the Army and Head of state...the buck stops here. While we now know that those killed weren't particularly innocent as we once thought...this type of barbarian behaviour is not tolerated in Allanea or Greater Prussia and will be dealt with in the swiftest manner possible."

An assistant rushes to the side of the king and whispers: "Technically, your majesty, about 100,000 people where killed in the uprising. An Allanean Congressional district contains 200,000 people. The more peaceful Socialist Party of Allanea, which, given that we still have freedom of speech, still exists, numbers 34,000 people, your Majesty. I believe with that in hand, you realize why they decided to run no candidates this year."

A Tiburonese reporter stood up in the second row and asked,

"King Napoleon? Jamie McAfee of the New York Times. I actually have a few questions, if you don't mind. First off, will there be legislation to ensure that the freedoms given to the Allanean people will be protected and expanded? Also, how will we ensure that fair elections are held periodically? Thank you."

"Thankyou." Napoleon replied with a smile. "Yes, the elected legislature shall adopt a revised form of the pre-war constitution with new provisions to ensure the maintainance of this new national course and this new national government. These freedoms that have been returned to the Allanean people shall be preserved by me...and by the government...I will fight until my last breath for the peace and freedom of Allanea."

"Next?"