NationStates Jolt Archive

King Herumor smiled as he looked down from the balcony of the massive tower that served as the citadel of the capital. Everything above a small town in Vinyaangmar had a citadel. These tower like fortresses were places of dead. Nothing grew near them, and cold steam rose from their sides. Those few commoners who entered them rarely returned, and were usually taken into them by force. Many dwelt within the bastions, few lived within them.

The city of Nûdach Carn Dûm, named after the capital was a sprawling fortified mountainside, its urban sprawl of poorly built shanty housing, and endlessly belching forges. Poorly manufactured goods streamed out of Carn Dûm by the truck – badly made also, spewing black vapours – load, destined for the distant ports of trade, and export. Much of what was made by this vast cancer on the mountain was beyond the means of its entire citizenry.

The square below was thronging with crowds, gaily dressed, looking as best they could like what they were, the elite. Any way to gain the attention of the feared witch-king was deemed worth the risk of attracting his wrath by the expansive and over privileged nobility. It had indeed, been a long time before they stopped attempting to court his favour with his daughters – after they had learnt what became of them – and even now some particularly cruel ones still did so.

The black robed figure of the Witch King raised his hand for silence, and a deathly hush descended. He was not above killing those who were insufficiently respectful toward him. He spoke, his voice sounding unnaturally reverberant and deep, “People!” he said, his voice carrying on the wind even without speaker, “we are beset with a scourge!”

The thought might have flashed through one’s mind that he was speaking of himself, but the wise would banish that thought quickly, lest such things be detected by those agents of the King that roamed among the assembled crowd and the nation at large. The torments that were regularly inflicted upon those that the Witch King’s agents found to be insufficiently respectful were spoken of only in the quietest, stealthiest of whispers.

“It comes from the south, a horde of ignoble, vile, creatures!” he pointed off down the mountain range that formed the spine of the nation. “They migrate by the thousands!” he practically shouted now.

“Into our kingdom! To take our wealth!” to the astute observer, the purpose of this would now become apparent, many regimes had used a common enemy to distract the lower classes from the sufferings inflicted by their leaders, and Herumor was a master of it. “our land and our lives!”

“But they do not know the strength they confront!” he shouted, “Henceforth! I declare that all these creatures in my realm are to be put to death!”

As if on cue, a large and powerful goblin was brought forward from the recesses of the tower, its mind obviously clouded by some enchantment. The pair of fearsome royal guards, the black armoured figures spoken of in hushed whispers, pushed him down to his knees beside the king. Herumor snarled, and with a single fluid motion, drew the great sword at his hip. The unholy blade seemed to flicker with witch-fire in his hand for a moment.

Restraining a bestial snarl, the figure of the Witch King spun its upper body as it let the blow fall, severing the neck of the orc. His gloved hand seized its mangy black hair, and he held up the head, “This is the face of your enemy!” he shouted, “know it well and loathe it!”

Casting the bloody orc head amongst the crowd below as a veiled gesture of contempt, the King strode into the bastion once more.

To: His Majesty, Herumor, King of Vinyaangmar
From: Her Majesty, Eleanor ni Ailil, Queen of Wintermore, High Lady Ailil

Understanding the many tensions which have existed between humans and orcs and appreciative of the sovereign right of all nations to control their own population, we are not unsympathetic to your desire to cleanse Your Majesty's population. However, in light of the principles to which we hold, as well as in the interests of protecting Your Majesty from the possible diplomatic or even military response of certain nations to your current policy, we would offer you another way to accomplish this task. The Kingdom of Wintermore will gladly take your orc population off Your Majesty's hands and incorporate them into our own population. We will provide full transport at our own expense, provided only that Your Majesty be amenable to this course of action and that this exchange be followed by the opening of proper diplomatic relations.

To her Majesty Elenor ni Ailil, Queen of Wintermore, High Lady Ailil, His Majesty Herumor, King of Vinyaangmar bids greetings.

Your gracious suggestion with regards to the disposition of the orcish population currently intruding in the southern mountain region. While we understand and sympathise with the principles you aspire to, we fear that such a solution may be impractical. Firstly, what efforts at parley we have attempted with these tribes have only resulted in at best, the return of the heads of our envoys, and their exact numbers are unknown. I would hardly call them part of my own populace for such a reason. The most detail we have found on their origin is that they have come from a recent event in the south, possibly involving Quendi and dwarves. The second practical constraint is that these orcs are highly unlikely to accept the offer of relocation. Simply put, their philosophy is ‘take what one wants, and slay its current owner.’

I would ask that you consider the consequences of moving them. Unless you have a rather radical way of changing their lifestyle, they would only cause problems for your own realm. Additionally, we would of course consider it a great honour to establish diplomatic relations between our humble state and your own.

Herumor, King of Vinyaangmar.

To: His Majesty, Herumor, King of Vinyaangmar
From: Her Majesty, Eleanor ni Ailil, Queen of Wintermore, High Lady Ailil

If Your Majesty requires aid to secure Your Majesty's southern border, we will be able to happily provide it as soon as we are freed from our own hostilities in the dreaming. As for teaching the orcs to live in Wintermore, we have sufficiently integrated redcaps, thallain, adhene, and even river hags into our population already. Orcs should prove no different once defeated in battle, relocated, and educated.

The next morning a trumpet sounded from the peak of the bastion, its sound long and clear in the early dawn air. The great gates of steel alloy swung wide, bracings withdrawn, and out marched rank after rank of black draped and red clad soldiery. First came a line of wraiths, fearsome creatures, in a group five wide by ten deep. Far weaker than the ringwraiths of old, their spears, ornamented and fearsome spiked mogul blades. They were the result of these same weapons in use. Under their dark shrouds they carried more mundane weapons, simple chemically propelled carbines.

Behind these wights a thousand, lesser undead, weaker but more easily made, requiring only sufficient knowledge of the dark arts and the unfortunate victim. They too carried spears, ornamental only. Their bony fingers holding the hasps of their weapons tightly. They too carried varied weapons. Behind them came even less powerful undead, manifold dread beings that had been the product of the warped mind of Herumor. But even this mighty company, the garrison of the citadel, was not the whole of his host. From the city’s outer walls, ancient yet maintained despite their obsolescence, and the bastions there, came a great number of deep red clothed human soldiers, their weapons, reliable rifles and support weapons, if not high performance much the same as the more fell troops in the service of the black lord.

The leader of this expedition came forth at last, upon a great fell beast, a creature of ancient times it was, that had lived long and known many masters and much cruelty, and learnt much cruelty itself. It beat its wings as it lifted into the air. Despite the heavy barding it acquired, it was not a mount for the present, but another anachronism. The risk from their foes was so low however, that Herumor was quite happy to take his ‘pet’ acquired long ago, for a little jaunt.

Herumor himself was a tall and evil shape. The rider was robed all in black, and black was his lofty helm. He wore a great faceplate of steel, that covered all but his mouth, etched with carvings in the Black Speech of Mordor. He jerked his reins and the mount leapt from side of the tower. A great banner was raised by the wraiths as their king swept forth into the air. It was of a great silver rampant warg, that is to say, a creature like unto a wolf, on a sable background, with a golden border and silver stars prostrate at its feet. That last was the personal emblem of the king, and with the raising of his standard, an horn was blown and a great number of the wolf like creatures ran amock among their undead masters, pouring from the citadel like water from a broken dam.

The suppression force marched at last.

To: His Majesty, Herumor, King of Vinyaangmar
From: Her Majesty, Eleanor ni Ailil, Queen of Wintermore, High Lady Ailil

This shall be the last missive signed directly by ourself as we must soon personally join our armies in the dreaming. We have given orders to dispatch an ambassador and an appropriate staff to Your Majesty's capital and have given orders for an appropriate embassy building to be obtained. We have also given orders that an appropriate embassy building in Garman be set aside for Your Majesty's embassy. However, our conditions for trade concessions, military cooperation, and all other signs of friendship between nations, remain the same as they ever were. Please direct any further missives to our Minister of State or to our ambassador to Vinyaangmar.

OOC: Ack. I was going to do another letter later.

Edit: Ack. I've outed myself as Vinyaangmar too.

((OOC: Heehee. Well, just send it to the Minister of State now or wait a few ic days until an ambassador can get set up and talk to him/her. Or, if you really want, I can go back and delete. I know I can move too fast sometimes.))

"The Commonality wishes Vinyaangmar well in its endeavours to destroy the yrch scourge, but sincerely doubts that the campaign will be truly successful, and urges that a more 'humane' containment effort be taken up instead. Orcs are, after all, mere animals."

~ Junior Ambassador Solari

A recon drone slowly floated over the area of Vinyaangmar. Pictures were taken, and beamed back to the Thelasi Military Intelligence base in Axara. Several officers crowded around in the tiny, dark room, doing a quick once over. One of the officers turned around to look at another elf, a cadet, who was sitting on a chair, reading “the” historical novel,

“Put that damn book down and get over here! You can read Professor Tolkien’s work at any time!”
“But I like reading this…”
“Now!”
“Yes Sir…”

The young cadet stood up and walked over, looking at the piece. The head officer did a quick once over, “Nothing unusual here… lets chuck it.” Four, “Aye’s” echoed out. The cadet was still looking, “Sir… look over here, it looks like a…” “Eru help us…” he shouted, “Get this down to bio, stat!”

Several hours later, a report was carried to the Emperor himself. After giving it a once over, he sighed, kicking back in his chair. “Are you sure that that creature is a fell beast?”
The Director nodded, his hologram shimmering. “We are positive, milord.” “Well, I can’t just send in the army…” “There are the Tirn milord.”

“Indeed… send team three. With Cerenna as commander, their mission is to determine who the hell this person is.”
“Immediately milord.”

The fell beast swept low over the hills, and Herumor watched with interest as the armies clashed. The sound of automatic fire mixed with guttural screams. Bow and arrow armed orcs rushed around, taking cover as relentless undead creatures moved in on them under covering fire from the human draftees. It was a completely unfair and one sided battle, exactly as he liked it.

The orcs retreated into the mountain caves they had come from, and Herumor laughed. They had no idea what horrors the modern age could unleash. He sneered with amusement as one of his servants threw a grenade into the cave complex. More howls of pain followed as the fearsome white phosphorus grenade did its work, burning the orcs out of their hole. Half a dozen wraiths with unslung carbines opened fire at those fleeing the chemical weapon, gunning them down in a ferocious crossfire from either side of the cave’s entrance.

A taller orc chieftain screamed something incoherent and charged one of the wraiths, wielding a large but poorly made sword. With astonishing speed the wraith’s gun was set aside, left to hang from its shoulder strap, and the orc was impaled by the spear the wraith carried. The wraith twisted its spear violently, and pulled out the shattered morgul blade, which flashed to poisonous vapours in a moment.

Promptly smacked about the head by the former spear, the orc chief sunk to the ground, howling in pain. Herumor smiled approvingly as the wraiths and a backup squad of wights moved into the cave complex.

“Lord!” one of the wraiths snapped, in its cold, dead voice, standing nearby, “complex cleared Lord. It appears to have been inhabited for some time, and the orcs have made significant excavations. I suggest that we establish an outpost here”

Herumor nodded, satisfied with the progress of his underlings, he took to the air once more. They would carry on without him. He would, meanwhile, return to the capital, to supervise the final stages of his other little project.

Cerenna relaxed in her drop pod. In her headset she could hear the countdown, “Tirn unit one, three minutes to drop… three minutes to drop…” The drop pod she was in was claustrophobic, to say the least, being just taller than her, and the passenger area barely wider than her combat suit. Many elves would have freaked out after sitting within the small pod, but not the Tirn. Cerenna was at home here, her suits helmet projecting images directly onto her eye.

They would be deploying soon, her goal was not to effect a stealthy operation, as could be told by the fact that they were using combat suits for this operation. The black combat armor units were designed for combat, with inbuilt weapons, force projection shields, and a multitude of other useful items.

Two minutes later, Cerenna heard the lid of the drop pod close, making the small padded interior feel like an electronic coffin. She heard the system switch to its own life support package, and her suit begin to prepare to switch to its own internal fusion torch reactor. After diagnostic checks were completed, Cerenna heard the normal message, “Tirn unit one, last chance to abort, yes or no…” “Launch, this is Cerenna, commander, launch pods.”

Seconds after, she felt the rapid acceleration as the pods were sent on their tracks out of the space craft. Instead of looking at the holo-display that covered the entire inside of the lid, Cerenna used her DNI link to have the images sent directly into her brain. She took direct control from the piloting AI, knowing that the other two Tirn were doing the same, and guided the pod in, trusting her own intuition more than the AI system.

With a glowing red fire, Cerenna noted as the three pods entered the atmosphere. The altimeter began counting. Thirty thousand feet up, the gravity-brakes activated, and the pods continued their decent, slowing considerably. With a blast, barely audible inside the pods, the three vehicles hit the ground. Seconds later the hatches opened, and the three Tirn popped up, weapons ready. All three carried Charged Particle Rifles, linked directly into their suits, and powered by the internal reactors, giving them unlimited ammunition.

After securing their limited food rations, other equipment, and activating the self-destruct protocols on their pods, the three set off on their march. After clearing the area, the Tirn pressed a series of codes on their comlinks, and three fiery orbs encompassed the pods, disintegrating them, all that remained were three craters.

Starting their march, Cerenna, Letharia—another female Tirn—and Merasin—a male Tirn—began their march. Their in built cameras took constant holo-video streams of the surrounding areas that they marched through, and integrated computers automatically constructed maps out of them, including height data, and stored for sending to command. At one point they spotted something on the top of a mountain, as they closed in on it, Cerenna shivered, she felt sick. She wasn’t sure how she knew that it was what “sick” felt like, but one thing for certain, it didn’t feel good. The three climbed a neighboring mountain and settled down. Cerenna decided not to approach, but to just watch.

They set up within the entrance to a cave that offered a good sight of the citadel. Merasin set up a field communication unit, including the scrambler, and encoding unit that would hide them from direction finders, while Letharia explored more of the cave. In the mean time Cerenna extended the bi-pod on her rifle, and used the attached camera to zoom in on the fortress.

She took picture after picture, watching the facility intently. She noted the lack of traffic, and the fact that the locals seemed to avoid it. Finally, Merasin tapped her on the shoulder, or at least, the shoulder of her armor. He signaled her that the communications unit was ready. Walking back to the unit, she began to set up, connecting her computer to the station, and beginning the upload.

It didn’t take that long, even though the signal had to go through the rock, to the orbiting warship, then to Thelas. But less than thirty minutes she had a new order, to investigate the fortress. The data she had provided was useful, and was appreciated by command, but they needed more info on the surrounding area. Their orders stood, they should not engage the enemy, but if needed, they were to use lethal force.

Suddenly the orders changed. They were to move quickly to observe the purging force. Cerenna looked at the data that was sent, and merely nodded. Rising, she noted the nods from her soldiers, they had already came to the same conclusion. Within a minute Merasin had the communications unit, and the three began moving.

They marched without rest, or stop, for six days. Even for elves this was amazing, but they were Tirn, they were the true super-soldiers of the Thelasi Star Empire. There were only two hundred to three hundred of them in existence, so those two hundred had to be the best of the best, and they were.

Even on these super-soldiers, six days without rest was almost too much. But they made their objective. They were at the summit of a mountain, when the purging force passed by. They had found a cave, and had set up, by the time the force passed by. They watched as the group exterminated the orc tribe, and Cerenna took picture after picture of the undead. She took picture after picture of their commander, the Witch King, and then several pictures of him, flying away on his fell-beast. A sight that sent shivers down her spine.

The group watched as the enemy units moved on, to presumably destroy another encampment of orcs. Cerenna turned and nodded to Merasin to set up the transmitter, for this entire mission, Cerenna had never spoken verbally, within a Tirn team, this was not uncommon. The team spent so much time together that the soldiers could anticipate the orders of their superior, and often a nod or a hand gesture could summarize entire mission plans.

Minutes later, the pictures, video, and land patterns—which had been recorded on the teams way to the site—were sent back to high command. Cerenna knew what the response would be. Within days, there would be three fleets arriving, with five hundred thousand Morchant Tirith, and the invasion would begin. Slowly, her team packed up, placing the equipment in their cases, and preparing to move on.

They had spent almost a week within this nation, and Cerenna knew what her last mission would be, even before she received it. To make an up-close examination of the base. It was a suicidal mission, but it had to be done. Cerenna took the high-risk equipment of the team, and stored it in a cave, covering the cave with a dura-steel plate that appeared to be part of the rock-face (and looked like it on scanners too). The other two did not know where she stored it. All they carried were their suits, and weapons.

And they set off.

OOC: Ctan, you get to write their capture.

Of course, normally, infiltrating a Citadel such as the one in the capital - a gross deviation from the norm in the shape of the large and largely ornamental tower set atop it - would be difficult in the extreme, but everything was not as one would have expected today. For today, there was a shipment of food - particularly coarse and unpleasant food for the still living and suffering prisoners, but still, food - coming in. It wound its way through the close streets of the area around the citadel, zoned residential, slowly, leaving more than enough time for the elves to board it on several occasions.

And so they did, thanking their good fortune as they passed into the dark, heavily braced hallways of the citadel. The place was like a great termite mound of creeping, vile, and repellent things of all shapes and sizes, colours and hues. Humans, the least disturbing things among the residents, moved there, as they could see from between the truck's loosely slatted wooden sides, as well as other things, hunched forms that shuffled along in deathly silence, the reek of death permeating everything as they passed this fell garrison, driving deeper and deeper into the citadel. Though there was the inclination in Cerenna's mind to disembark at the first opportunity, there seemed to be someone there, facing them, at every opportunity.

The truck wound its way deeper into the complex, and the sense of unease and sickness they had felt seemed to grow with every passing moment, settling in to stay as a deep chill in the heart, and a constant drive to feel despair. The darkness deepened, and at last they came to a stop. The truck had driven into a dead end, though from the rear, that could not be seen. Leaving the engine running, the driver, a tall man in an incongruous, given the bleakness of this part of the country, green outfit, walked away for a moment, toward a door in the wall. Pausing past a white line painted on the bare concrete floor, he slammed his palm onto a wide red button, like a fire alarm. Sure enough, and alarm did sound, but something else also happened.

A great metal door, forged and wrought of titanium, thicker than Cerenna and Merasin's height, were one stacked atop the other, slammed down like the blade of the guillotine. On the inside were Fëanorian letters, stencilled onto the metal in white paint. It was Quenya, some of the slang words would perhaps be unfamiliar, being Numenorian dialect. Morons. So very easy. You can put your weapons and equipment down now and surrender. You're far more useful as hostages than corpses. As you'll probably not believe any promises I give, let me put it bluntly; I'll torture you less if you come peacefully. And don't bother with suicide. I'm a - though I say so myself - very effective necromancer after all.

The Tirn dropped their weapons as Cerenna sighed, looking up at the ceiling. There was a reason they had left the equipment behind in the cave. The holo-recorder on Cerenna’s suit continued to tape, and transmit, back to the long range communications set in the cave, which, in turn, sent its messages back all the way to Thelas.

Sighing, Cerenna looked around the cage, “Alright, now… I wonder who we’re talking to…”

Cerenna and her compatriots remove their armour, something of a task, and a somewhat uncomfortable thing, as really, the three of them aren't wearing that much under the metal armour. Sighing, Cerenna looked around the room, "Alright now, I wonder who we’re talking to?"
With the heavy grinding of gears, the door begins to rise, slowly. Beyond stands rank after rank of the same terrible creatures that they had seen coming in, armed with all manner of guns and swords.

Cerenna wishes that she was still in her armour, truly, the Tirn are good at hand-to-hand, even without the servos in the power-suits, but even a master martial artist couldn't beat that many enemies
She looks around, trying to spot where a leader might be, or even something that can understand German, or Sindarin
A number of the wights stepped forward, their eyes pale, sub machineguns on the elves, "Which of you is the leader?" a cold voice asked, in Westron.
Cerenna steps forward, "I am
"Good," said a black shrouded figure. "You will follow me. Your companions will be imprisoned."

Cerenna looked at her soldiers, and then back at the figure, not really having a choice, at the nods from the two Tirn, she turned back, "Very well."
The wraith turned, and strode off down the corridor, and stepping into an empty, bare, room.
Cerenna followed, her bare feet soundless on the stone, she felt very wrong, something was really, really, really wrong
Two heavy metal doors opened in the far side, and the black-cloaked wraith gestured for her to enter the lift.
Entering, she remains on the far side of the lift from the wraith
The creature, apparently amused by her discomfort, stepped up to her as the lift began to move.

"What were you... a human?"
It does not deign to answer her.
"You're a wraith now... a servant of Morgoth?"
It seemed, if anything, amused by that assertion.
"Sauron? No wait... your troops don't carry the eye..."
Finally, the door opens, and it points out of the door. What is beyond is rather surprising. A large reception room, hung with tapestries and with expensive framed paintings here and there, as well as several seats, waits.
As she looks into the room, Cerenna steps forward. She shivers, as earlier mentioned, only really wearing what amounts to a thin, see-through, skin-suit that's made to interface with her armour
The lift doors slid shut behind her, and she was left alone. Unlike the lower levels however, this room did not seem to cause her any discomfort - barring natural cold from her state of undress.

Cerenna walks around the room, looking at the walls, table and so forth. She hopes that the person who is trying to direct her armour reads the warning label...
After a minute or so there is a sharp clap from behind her, and, stepping out from behind one of the wall hangings, a very tall, as tall as she is, man with dark hair and eyes, and surprisingly good looks, laughs, a surprisingly pleasant sound, "So... This is the quality of Menelmacari spies is it?"
Cerenna spins around, "And you are?" She looks at him from top to bottom, trying to figure out where she had seen him before.

"I am in charge here," he says, walking down two steps, gold and crimson robes billowing a little as he does, "you may call me 'Sir.'"
"Well, 'sir'" She says, with no lack of sarcasm, "Who the hell are you?"
"You want my name?" he asks, searching his memory for a moment.
"I want to know how to address you..."
"Well. I suppose you'll have to make do with Herumor. I don't recall my original name."
"Herumor..." Her mind flashed back to the mission statement, 'We believe the leader of this nation is named Herumor', "Herumor, you're the leader of this nation."
"Your skills of deduction astound me," he mocks, walking over to the table, and picking up a slender champagne glass, "would you care for a drink?" he offers.

"Only if it isn't drugged."
He smiles, "Well. Assuming you don't count alcohol as a drug... it isn't drugged."
Cerenna nods, "In that case, I will have a drink..." She looks around, "Such a strange place."
He extends the glass to her and smiles, "oh?"
"Your people seem terrified of this place." She takes the glass and dips her finger in first, licking it to check for poison
He chuckles, "If I wanted you dead, I would find a far more entertaining way to kill you than poison you foolish girl."
Cerenna shrugs and sips, "So what is your purpose, killing the orcs...
He laughs, walking away from her for a moment, towards a window, "You object?" he asks.
"Hardly, except you have no reason to. You do not hate them, and they could be useful to you.
He laughs again, "of course I have a reason to. Foolish elf. But let us make something rather clear," he turns to look at her, "you will answer my questions, not the other way around."

Smiling, Cerenna leans back, "Very well, what do you want to know?"
"Firstly, why are you here?" he smiles, "what interest does Menelmacar have in my little domain?"

She leans back, "Menelmacar?" She smiles, amused
"Ah. I've made a mistake?" he asks, "have a seat," he gestures to a high backed wooden chair by the window.
Smiling, "I prefer to stand..."
"Have. A. Seat." he repeats.
She merely shrugs and he steps a little closer to her.
"I don't know what you are, except for a Necromancer, but I want to know why you are so insistent."
He reaches out for a moment, before suddenly grabbing her collar, and shoving her into the seat.
Cerenna lands in the chair, looking at Herumor.
"Better," he says, slowly walking behind the chair.
"Now what?"
He gently touches her ear tips, "So," he asks, very softly rubbing, "where are you from? Name, rank and serial number if you will."
As she feels the touches on her ears, she shudders for a moment, "Cerenna, First Rank Tirn, TTMC-296434566... w...what are you doing?"
He smiles, "Ah," he says, "you would be Thelasi then?" His fingers gently rub her ears; he's rather good at it actually.
"Y...yes." She is uncomfortable, for an elf, of course, this is a very... intimate thing for a human to be doing
He carried on, "So," he asked, "what have you learnt so far while spying on me?"
"Y...y...your a necromancer and the people live in fear of you..."

"Fear?" he laughs, "Not really fear. Fear of my annoyance perhaps," he gently pinches her ear-tip, "but there is no general climate of fear... Unlike..." he smiles, "in your own nation."
She is about to let out a soft, well, purr, but catches herself, "The only way to rule is through power. By balancing fear and loyalty the populace can be kept in check." It’s blasted hard for her to think with the Necromancer playing with her ears, and it is even harder to concentrate.
"Oh my!" he says, rubbing gently, "that is very... pragmatic. What is it that Jesus fellow you Thelasi are fond of said? About logs and eyes?"
"Some of us are fond of. I myself do not believe in his teachings. Sir... what are you doing with my ears?" She says this as he continues to rub her ears, worrying Cerenna to no end.
"As a group then!" he says, continuing to gently rub her ears, "anyway... where were we? Oh yes, hypocrisy - why, I am rubbing them of course!" he says, stepping up the intensity a little - is it uncomfortable?"

"N...no its not... you are different though, you are a servant of the Enemy of the elves"
"Am I now?" he asks, curiously, rubbing a well-manicured fingernail against her ear-tip. "Not for the last {six/twenty something} thousand years at any rate."
"But the fell beast..." she shifts a little, and her resolve cracks a little as he tantalises her ear, she lets out a strangled purr
"What? My little pet?" he asks, "Next you'll be telling me owning a horse makes one an elf."
"But the fell beasts only obey the servants of the Dark Lord..."
"And you know this... how?" he asks, with a laugh - "Ever ridden one?"
"No"
He grins, and, a soft pinch of the ears follows, "would you like to?" he asks, amused.
"I... I don't think... for an elf..."
"Hum?" he asks, softly rubbing the ear tips a little more.

"They were created by Sauron..."
"Wow?" he asks, "you really think that?" He gives one ear a rather painful pinch, "that's just silly."
Cerenna yelps, "That's what the translations said..."
"One perverts things like that. One doesn't make them," he says, rubbing again, "and I question how much you, or any other elf for that matter, really know of the aviaries of Minas Morgul."
Cerenna is suspicious, to say the least, "Well... you have a point"

He laughs, "You really ought to come riding with me. You'd be amazed how relaxing it is."
"I've never flown something alive..."
He gently pinches her ear-tips; "It'll be a new experience for you then."
Cerenna gasps, "But... I don't know... my mission..."
"...Has evidently failed."

"But... what about my soldiers?"
"What of them?"
"What will happen to them?"
"Well. You're all spies. I really ought to execute you."
"Please sir..."
"Yes?"
"Don't have them executed."
"As you wish," he says, "I'll release you at any rate, as a gesture of good faith. And I shan't execute the others."
"What will you do to them?"
"That really depends on what happens doesn't it?" he says, stroking her ears carefully.
Cerenna shivers, not from the cold, "Let them go... I'll stay if you want."
"Ah, but what would I gain by letting all three of you go?"
"I'll stay if you want... let the other two go..."
"But why would I want you to stay?" he asks, curiously.
Herumor traces his nail against her ear-tip for a moment.
"You seem to be taking an interest in my ears... "
He laughs, "Yes."
She squirms again, "And you know what signs that sends to an elf."
He raises an eyebrow, "I can't say that I do..."
"It’s a very..." she blushes slightly, "erotic gesture..."

He stops, and lifts his hands for a moment, pretending he didn't know. He then rests them on her shoulders, and begins massaging.
Cerenna relaxes, a lot, she is still confused, "You keep trying to put me at ease..."
"Indeed. Hospitality..." he says, with a little laugh.
"I doubt hospitality includes giving massages..." she sighs, "Which, by the way, you're good at."
He laughs, and gently kisses her ear-tip, "Why thank you," he whispers.
Relaxing a bit more, Cerenna closes her eyes, "You know who the Thelasi think you are?"
"No," he says.
"Nosirin, the emperor, thinks you are the Mouth of Sauron." She smiles, "But the records talk about how the Mouth of Sauron was a horrid, warped creature, something, you aren’t..."
"Hum," he says, "fire your record keepers."
"Well, Professor Tolkien knew what he was doing..."
"Who?"

"Tolkien... you haven’t... oh never mind. He translated many of the stories of our people from Westron to English, and then others translated to the other human languages."
"I see. In any case, of late I've been replaced. 'Voice of Sauron' indeed. An appalling title if you ask me."
"Appalling,” she whispers, her eyes still closed, "What are you?" She looks up at his face, studying him for a moment
"I am one of what you would call the Black Númenóreans," he says, rubbing her shoulders still.

"So I was right, you served Sauron..." It was surprising to her that this didn't bother her in the least.
"Oh yes," he says, pausing for a moment, coughing briefly, and saying something in the black speech, causing the room to feel much colder for a moment, "I am the Mouth of Sauron, Hear him speak."
Cerenna shudders as he speaks, pressing against the chair, almost seeming to try and curl up in it protectively.
He stops, and the effect seems to end. He gently brushes her hair aside, "Sorry," he says, "I didn't intent to cause you any discomfort."
"I felt... sick for a second." She looks back up at him, "Why did you serve Sauron?"
He laughs a little, "I didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter" he smiles rubbing her ear again for a moment, "Power? Knowledge? Though, in all fairness, I had little choice in the matter."
"And you managed to survive the fall?"

"It really helps to be out in the open when the buildings are collapsing."
Cerenna laughs, "Well, you have a good point. So, are you going to let the other two go?"
"Will it make any difference?" he asks.
"What do you mean?"
"Well. Your activities here were fairly obviously the precursor to an attack..."
"You read our actions well"
"So," he asked, "what will you have to say of me to your superiors?" he asks, in an interested tone.
"I would say that you probably have attempted to reform yourself, and that it would be hypocritical to attack you. But, command would most likely classify me as "compromised" and have me re-assigned to the mining facility in the belt. Where I would work, until the point that I die of either an accident, or I kill myself."
"Well," he says, "that's... lovely."
Cerenna shrugs, "I'm a multi-billion credit weapon system, as far as their concerned. If I am defective, I must be gotten rid of"
He laughs, rather loudly, "Oh my. And they're going to go on a moralistic crusade are they?"
"Well, Nosirin fought in the first War of the Ring... so it’s as much of a vengeance war as anything
"And he isn't going after my former master... why?" He raises and eyebrow, and his hands return to Cerenna's ear tips.
"Because said former master is part of a large alliance, that includes Morgoth himself."
There came another laugh, "not," he said, "for long."
Cerenna shrugged, and relaxed, "Should I read into this ear-rub?"

He smiled, "read what you like into it," he said, "you may as well enjoy something before the apparently inevitably depressing fate that awaits you."
"I sort of want to stay..."
"Well," he said, "this place will soon be becoming a rather large crater, it seems."
"...With you then"
He paused for a moment, "why?" he asked.
"Because if I return to Thelas, I'll be sent to a labour camp for the rest of my life"
"Well. Yes, but that's hardly any reason to want to stay with me."
Cerenna shrugs, "And you interest me.
"I will take that as a compliment," he says, smiling, and letting go of her ears.
Cerenna nods and smiles, "It is."
"Well," he says, "I shall see about releasing your friends," he turns to go, and gives her ear-tip a little kiss before he does, slipping a hand into his pocket.
"Oh, you'll find a room for yourself through that door," he points to a wooden door set into the wall.
Cerenna nods, "Thank you." She stands and bows, before walking away, into the surprisingly large and luxurious room. Cerenna stops halfway out, and walks back towards him, "One more thing..."
"Yes?" he asks, curiously. She kisses him on the nose, "Thanks." He smiles, and hugs her before walking off as Cerenna leaves for her room

OOC: For background sake....
http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=382456

IC: Stakul, a Half-Orc Warg Rider from Isengard proceeded along the road Northward toward the city of Nûdach Carn Dûm. Though he was perhaps the most human looking of his race possessing only slightly pointed ears and slit eyes, he was still taking a risk.

Reports had indicated that the Kingdom that occupied the lands of Angmar and Northern Arnor was ungulfed in an anti-orc fervor, Stakul hoped to take advantage of this.

Dressed in black with a dark veil and helmet to cover his ugly face, he rode up to several soldiers escorting a sorry bunch of half-starved Orcs being marched to the city.

The warg snarled, the soldiers were startled, the Orcs laughed.
The soldiers pulled out their guns.

"Only an Orc would ride one of these filthy creatures." Snarled the Captain, though perhaps stating a misconception.

Stakul spoke powerfully with great oration, Saruman had taught him well.
"I am a servant of the Lord Saruman who occupies the lands south of here. I seek an audience with your master, this 'Lord Herumor' I keep hearing about. Take me to him, unworthy proles!"

Unused to such things, the soldiers took some time before they acceded to the messenger’s demands, and a delegation of soldiers lead him to the Citadel.

Eventually the ambassador from the south was brought before Herumor, in a different, less personal audience room, walls of wrought iron, sharpened and fearsome, with chains from which banners hung, leading up to a great throne of blackest iron. Herumor smiled invitingly, dressed in black, surrounded by foul things that stuck to the shadows of the chamber, “Speak then,” he said, “creature.”

OOC: Damn. That’s convenient. I was about to contact you. :D

Though for the record, there are lots of wargs around. Though I tend to interpret them as big intelligent wolves rather than the wolf-horse crossbreed thing in the films. National animal and all. Even on the flag.

Meanwhile, in another part of the citadel, there was packing underway. Great steel crates were loaded with valuables, silver, mithril and gold, jems of every hue and size, and sealed with heavy locks. Artifacts of all kinds, from Morgul blades to mirrors and staves were packed in separate chests, locked to use the same key.

Stakul, confident, strong but wary of Herumor's presence removed his mask and veil.
He bowed.
"I bid thee greetings, Lord Herumor of Vinyaangmar, from Saruman of Many Colours; Lord and Master of Nan Curunir, the plains of Rohan, Dunland and all lands south of the Greyflood."
He took a breath.
"My master hopes that through counsel and converse that Vinyaangmar and Isengard can be brethren in uncertain times. To that end, my master, Saruman of Many Colours, hopes that you will consider his offer.
He offers thee his friendship, knowledge and advice in exchange for all Orc captives your Kingdom keeps or may later find. What say thee to that, will you see Saruman as a friend of Vinyaangmar, or do you seek my master's enmity? I am prepared to negotiate with thee."
He stood before Herumor, seeking response....

Herumor regarded the emissary with interest. On the one hand, Saruman was far from the top of his list of favourite personages, but on the other, he needed anything resembling an ally at this time. And, given what he had learnt from the elf, there was not likely to be a Vinyaangmar for long, never mind orcish prisoners. And Isengard would be a useful place to go, in the short term.

"Very well," he said, "I agree, tell your master that the King of Vinyaangmar is in agreement with him. All future and current orcs in this land will be sent to Isengard, and his counsel will be most highly regarded here."

"My master will be pleased that thee has chosen wisely. However, one such as myself, an emissary of greater folk, must ask thou for the reason for your acceptance."
Stakul was now very cautious, his question perhaps sounded a little impertinent.
"Do not be insulted, great Lord of Vinyaangmar. I must ask this for the sake of our collective friendship. My master, Saruman of Many Colours, can offer little useful counsel to thee if he knows little of what transpires. Saruman has no wish to break his promises, he is many things, including a man of his word."

Umm...
Bump...

(Excuse posting with the wrong nation please. I can't logout right now... :mad: )

Herumor smiled, "of course," he said, "I see little reason in casting aside the friendship of Saruman, when I know enough to regard his favour as a valuable treasure."

OOC: Is there a response coming still or should I just make my next move?

greetings, tovarisch...

i believe in the same, those who do not follow the mold of the communist state.. shall be exiled to siberia! the gulag is a workhorse of russia! in time they wil see that the state is strong! !

OOC: Is there a response coming still or should I just make my next move?

I feel he'd be rather distracted by his impending doom to bother, alas.

Stakul smiled, What a well crafted and politically subtle answer, one could learn from him, he thought.
"I hope the combined strength of Isengard and Vinyaangmar can stem the tide of those who may seek to destroy us. May the union of Orthanc and Nûdach Carn Dûm remain strong."
He bowed and departed to inform his master of the new alliance.

Nosirin looked at the reports that had been sent back, he was convinced that Vinyaangmar would be destroyed. The full power of the Empire would be deployed against these servants of the enemy, fleets, infantry, all needed resources would be used. Some would question why he would deploy all these resources to this front, well, it was sort of a personal issue. He had fought beside Gil-Galad in the war against Sauron, and now he watched as a servant of Sauron gained power, for he was convinced that this was a servant of Sauron.

He was not doing this to gain points with Sirithil or the C’tan, he was not doing this to gain points with the Aelosians. This was a Thelasi war. The other nations could assist if they wanted, but Thelas would lead this war, and Thelas would finish it. This war, no crusade, would not be decided in space, but on the ground, by the very same means that ended the first War of the Ring.

After seeing the report from the surviving Tirn officer, he had made up his mind, and had set into motion the great bureaucratic cogs that began to move the wheels of the Thelasi war machine. Three fleets, the Azurewrath, the Retribution, and finally—and most ironically—the Acharn, Vengeance, were being readied. Standing by to be transported was a full Thelasi Battle Division, five hundred thousand troops, thousands of tanks and Mecha, untold numbers of planes, were being loaded onto transports, along with an entire unit of the Thelasi Core of Engineers.

He leaned back, the five other High Mages shared his opinion. They too could feel the dark magic emanating from Vinyaangmar, yet it was not simply the existence of this magic—one of the six other High Mages was a Black Mage—but it was the use of the magic, the evil and malign intent of the wielder that made the Thelasi Mages shudder, the pure evil, only borne of the enemy.

Making out a speech was simple enough, he doubted if many nations would notice the war, and if they did, he would be able to convince them. The Tirn expedition had showed him enough, and beyond that, the fell-beast was a good sign. Fell-beasts only served the forces of the Enemy, Sauron, so he was convinced, this had to be one of Sauron’s High Lieutenants. Nosirin had his suspects, first among them, the Mouth of Sauron. The head commander that had never been accounted for, and Nosirin had a feeling that that ugly head had reared up again.

“A Crusade” is what his commanders had called. It sounded a bit too vicious, but maybe it was the truth, a crusade to rid Arda, the world, of Sauron’s taint. Even if the leader fled, the nation was gone, and had strengthened Thelas. But there were always threats, and after one was destroyed, another would have to be crushed, yet the Empire would always be ready to crush them.

Stakul kneeled before his master in Saruman's central chamber.
"You are sure of this?" Asked Saruman, intrigued by what his servant had informed him over.
"Beyond doubt, my master. While Herumor is most certainly a vile but insignificant shadow of the Great Eye who is most probably using us for his own ends, this alliance should prove advantageous providing we keep the upper hand."
Saruman laughed to himself, over the prospect that had just occured to him.
"Poor Herumor, to foolish to understand our motives in their fullness. Sooner or later, those damn self-righteous Elven morons will come to Vinyaangmar to claim the prize of his head. While we will no doubt aid him in war, Herumor will turn up on our doorstep, fearful for his pitiful life. Of course, it would be suicide to harbor him in a protective manner. We will keep him here until the Elves arrive, then we shall simply exchange Herumor for our own survival. Those Elves will be weary in their dealings with me, I am far more powerful than the mere Istari of the past!"
Saruman took a sip of wine.
"Think of the cost it would take to destroy me; in this tower, I can outlast them. No weapon has ever or will ever make a crack in Orthanc and while they try they will exhaust their numbers!! They have no choice but to compromise!"
Stakul and Saruman laughed.

The three Thelasi battle-fleets, Azurewrath, Vengeance, and Retribution closed in on earth. It would no doubt cause a large stir from many nations when they detected the fleet, but at the moment, the three war-fleets had something else in their mission plans. They had remained on high alert since leaving Thelas, they didn’t know what weapons the servants of the enemy possessed, and were escorting several massive transports and war-barges.

The war-barges were weapons that had recently been designed by the Thelasi Navy. Merely modified versions of the Star Castles that defended Thelas, the three massive stations were being towed behind several of two gigantic one point two kilometer long tugs. The barges were designed to be moored above the war-zone and be linked together to form a large, temporary, star-base—that might be eventually turned into something more permanent.

The combined station would then be used as a docking point for the huge transport ships, and a transfer point to move the troops onto armed and armored assault transports. The facility would also serve as a launching point for bombers and fighters, drop-ships and gun-boats, that would be sent against the enemy on the planet.

Also among the military armada, were fifty ships from the engineering core. These ships carried robots and equipment that would be used in the construction of planetary bases, the leveling of mountains for the construction of space-ports, and road construction. The ships didn’t just carry the equipment to construct the defenses, but also the guns that would be used: cannons, machine cannons, machine guns, rocket launchers, emplaced artillery, and huge combat tunneling machines.

The armada came closer and closer to the planet…

Removed for some minor cleaning

The fleets reached the space above Vinyaangmar at around eleven o’clock at night, perfectly on schedule. The commanders had been preparing to deploy their troops for nearly three hours, and thousand of combat soldiers had already been loaded onto the assault transports, which had now been deployed, and sailed silently alongside the Thelasi battle-fleet.

The Thelasi commander, Namirin sent a message down to the planet. He was smiling benevolently at the camera, and behind him was a simple Thelasi flag,

“People of Vinyaangmar. Your leader, Herumor, has fallen. He has fled your nation, and abdicated his throne. We, the Thelasi Empire, do not wish to slaughter you, nor do we wish to pillage your land. We offer you and your military this chance, to surrender peacefully, and become part of the Thelasi Empire.

All of you will be granted full citizenship within the Empire, and we will protect you and allow great amounts of trade between you and other large nations. But if you refuse, we will bring the power of the Empire against you.”

The nation of Vinyaangmar surrenders effective immediately.

Go back to whence you came vile creatures.

Sauriquendi out!

All three transmissions came within minutes, the first, apparently from a military source, the second, from a governmental source, and the origin of the last was difficult to trace, but it was a common sentiment.

In a bunker in Allanea

Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky, President-for-Life of the United States of Allanea, President of the Black Accord, et cetera, et cetera, smiled. His assistant – the same young, inexperienced lieutenant that has been assigned for him several month ago – paled slightly. It was rare that the boy – and Kazansky was but a boy, the assistant reminded himself – was seen smiling lately. He didn’t know what made the President into this depressed, brooding shadow of his former self, and he didn’t want to know. Kazansky’s voice returned the Lieutenant to reality.

“So, the devices are ready, huh?” - he commented as the Lieutenant held up a smooth black box equipped with a grenade-like pin. – “Are there enough armed with the programs I suggested?”

The Lieutenant nodded quickly – “Yes, Mr. Pre… I meant, Alex,” – he corrected himself as he saw the frown form on Kazansky’s face, “they are ready. A Vinyaangmari edition, with bombs coded for multi-frequency broadcasting on CB, FM, or AM. Similar devices were made for Thelas’ strange broadcast system, with an adapted version of the program, but CIA doesn’t have single clue on how to get them there yet. Personnel speaking Vinyaagmari ready for insertion, too.”

The smile disappeared.

“Tell them to hurry. As per Vinyaangmar, order the beginning of Operation Johny AppleSeed.”

“Yes, Sir!” – replied the terrified Lieutenant. “I will do it immedia…”

Alexander Kazansky cut off his assistant by the simple measure of drawing his Desert Eagle Mark XIX and pointing it into his face. “Don’t ‘sir’ me, ever.”

The Lieutenant gulped. The President was definitely insane. Nor that he cared – though sometimes it got scary.

Like this time.

“Yes, Alex.”

“Good.” – Kazansky put the gun down on the table. “Just for future reference, there was no round in the chamber – and the gun is on safety anyhow. Now, from that tape, I inferred that elven ears are erogenous zones. I remember asking you to fact-check that one for me.”

“Yes… Alex. It’s true for nearly all elves, by the way. True for Necrontyr, too.”

Alexander blinked. “Do you know the meaning of the words unwanted information?!”

The Lieutenant gasped: “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…. You have just given me a disturbing image. Very disturbing. Get out of this room, now.”

The door slammed shut. Just as it did, a single knife whistled through the air, slashing the string that held up the remnants of the portrait. It fell to the ground.

Alexander shrugged as he turned on his stereo, full volume, of course. The music decidedly would not help him feel better.

“I was breaking glass like chocolate in my hand,
I was cutting my fingers for they couldn’t touch you,
I looked into their face and I couldn’t forgive
That they didn’t have you and they could still live…”


02:34, Over Vinyaangmar

The dropship descended slowly, silently, black and invisible in the night. At the height of two hundred fifty meters, it stopped, and a single man jumped out. His parachute was black, too. Simultaneously, other dropships deployed their precious elsewhere. In the mountains. On the outskirts of the cities. In the country.

The men carried minimal weapons – minimal, from an Allanean’s viewpoint. A single short-barreled rifle or submachinegun, and a handgun to go with it. Killing was not their purpose. They carried the same black objects that Kazansky’s lieutenant demonstrated earlier. Dozens and hundreds of them each. When morning came and the sun shone on those blighted lands, so would they shine a light on them – a different light altogether.

06:30, a small lake in Vinyaangmar

Corporal Korezky was considered a soft person compared to what you would expect from a Marine. However, people like him, incurable romantic as he was, were perfect for missions such as this – educating rather than killing. Spreading the light of liberty rather than the flashes of grenades. Now, he stood over the lake, wearing typical civilian clothe. His rifle was stashed safely in a long ‘tourist’ bag, and the rest of the gear fit in a huge – and admittedly uncomfortable – backpack lying at his feet.

He held up his “weapon”, yanked the grenade-type pin, and threw it. Even as the device was in the air, it began transmitting, in the FM band, condemning Vinyaangmar’s government, extolling the virtues of liberty – Allanea-style, with “natural, undeniable rights”, juries, right to bear arms, the works.. The witty political show was intermingled with some music – just enough to keep people listening – and the music was subversive too. As the device sunk underwater – and Korezky began to move away – anybody who could receive the transmission was hearing Bob Marley’s voice sing:

Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: don't give up the fight!

As Korezky walked away, he activated another “bomb”, dropping it softly in the bushes. This one used AM frequency.

06:45, in a Vinyaangmari city

Sergeant George Norton, another Marine, was dressed as a businessman, as well. He stowed his gear in an unseen alleyway, and now was walking a busy street, approaching a garbage bin. After waiting for an opportune moment, he dropped one of his devices into it. The garbage trucks would relocate it, discouraging any “detectives” – as far as they could be discouraged. Another device was placed under a park bench.

But if you know what life is worth,
You will look for yours on earth:
And now you see the light,
You stand up for your rights. Jah!

Sergeant Norton smiled. Right now, his colleagues – twenty-four of them – were setting up beacons like this all over the country. They were not to waste all “bombs” in one day – tomorrow, they would replace the destroyed ones. Right now, though, they had to “lie low” and wait for the “weaponry” to do it’s work.

For Norton, that meant finding a hotel room.

[OOC: Discussed aforehand with the other player]

There was surprisingly little reaction to the Allaneans, and in short order, many people in the affected districts, were tuning in to the Allanean propaganda station. They were used to believing almost everything put in front of them by their own government, and Allanean radio went down well, soon, people were openly talking of revolt against the Thelasi invaders.

In a bunker in Allanea

"Well, well, well. What have we here? Seems our wonderful experts have found a way to expand our strange brand of warfare to Thelas, after all, didn't they?" – One would expect someone saying this to be at least cheerful. Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky was not cheerful. Rather, his face was like a pale mask, devoid of emotion. The color of his eyes has shifted again from his usual brown to the metallic, dead glint of the eyes of a Halfling Ascended. Now, the Lieutenant was genuinely scared.

"Yes, Sir. It is basically distribution through their e-mail servers and equivalents of written documents outlining the crimes of the Nosirin government, the blessings of liberty and of libertarian – small 'l' libertarian, Mr. Kazansky – ideology and…"

"For the sixteenth time, call me Alex. And do I understand it correctly that the methodology suggested is nothing more than simple mass-spam?"

"Absolutely true, Alex. " – the Lieutenant shivered – "Four variable-IP servers, spouting up to one hundred thousands messages per hour each, autonomously searching Thelasi web space for e-mail addresses, the works. We now only need your green light to start it."

The President of the United States of Allanea frowned. "I see. Do it. How is the development of Stage Two Cultural Warfare Devices progressing?"

"Oh, we have just commenced the development of the CWD-II, Mr. Kaza… Alex, I mean." – the Lieutenant drew his head in between his shoulders. It was strange how Kazansky – a rather likeable man, all in all – could become truly intimidating once at his desk. The assistant liked his boss. And that was why he asked, looking at the near-new portrait on the wall, with a bayonet-knife sticking out of it:

"Who is that, Alex?"

Kazansky's eyes resumed their normal brown color, now burning with the cold flame of anger. "Don't ask that question again. Ever." Evidently satisfied that he got his point across, he resumed the conversation: "What about the delivery systems?"

"The preliminary estimates suggest that such systems should be deployed from a Howard Dean or similar aircraft, but DARPA think we should only get to them in earnest after CWD-II is ready, Alexander."

"Perfect" – the President For Life smiled sadly. "Now, proceed with the spam. How is the Vinyaangmar operation going?”

“Wonderful, Alex. We have already sent more CWD-I’s, with a fresh course of programs to follow up on our previous achievements.”

“Wonderful. Keep it going.”

Several hours later

In the basement of an Allanean office building, protect against nearly anything you could protect against, four mail servers clicked alive. The four cooling fans turned on simultaneously.

In a few more minutes, thousands of Thelasi would discover in their mailboxes long-winded eloquent messages, detailing the crimes of 'Nosirin and his gang', extolling Allanean-style liberty, and, among other things, telling the Thelasi that "all human being are endowed by their creators with certain inalienable rights.".

The emails that were received caused a minor stir, mainly along the lines of “But we aren’t humans…” and “Who the hell violated the ‘do not no-spam’ list?” But mostly it was the Thelasi government that took notice, mostly because they did not like some outside power attempting to subvert their rule. Fortunately, tracing the email wasn’t an issue.

About a day later, the high advanced processors that composed the Thelasi Palantir project diverted a small amount of resources to tracking down this annoyance. Now of course, being inside one of the rooms that housed Palantir would probably cause you to loose your hearing—the fans and all—but really, that wasn’t necessary: Athena managed her own systems.

Indeed, the Thelasi had Artificial Awareness systems, in fact, almost every recent Thelasi capital ship had an AA system, but no system was as complex as Athena. Many people said that Athena could “feel,” but to date, no one had been able to prove that, and to be honest, Athena didn’t want any one to prove that.

Athena really controlled the entire Data-Link—the Thelasi version of the Internet—by controlling almost every government server in existence—and being able to hack into other private servers, within Thelas, almost at will, so for her, tracking this little problem down, was a piece of cake. It would only take some time.

*******************************************

In orbit, Namirin looked at the planet below him and sighed. He knew that this battle would be mildly difficult, but he had faith in the tactics that had been learned in the conquest of Axara. Lesson one, break the will of the people to fight.

From the massive transports of the Thelasi fleet, gunship escorted transports flew down towards the planet, twenty of the ships braking off and went towards the capitol. Unlike most of the Thelasi starship, the transports were basically elongated ovals. As they approached the city, large amounts of liquid nitrogen flooded through special pipes laid through the hull. Within seconds the metal went from blazing hot, to icy cold.

The twenty ships, along with around twelve escort gun-ships and two full squadrons of fighters, made a quick pass around the city, practically daring any enemy craft to take to the air and attempt to shoot them down. For that matter, they were daring any one of the ground to shoot at them.

Finally the craft began to descend towards their targets, mostly large parks and interstates where the ninety-nine meter long vessels could land and debark the assault troops with their accompanying tanks.

It was an impressive sight to any one who was watching, Thelasi troops armored in a modified version of the gold and red Sindarin armor that had been worn during the ancient battles against Sauron, massive tanks floating meters above the ground, and gunships menacingly circling the area. Across the country, in every major city, this was happening. There could be no doubt that the Thelasi had arrived, in force.

Meanwhile, the last orders of Herumor had been carried out. The Thelasi spies had been sent aboard to the nation of Menelmacar, one of the few places it was deemed the Thelasi would not dare to follow, with a sizeable amount of the treasury that Herumor had ordered disposed of. Yet more of those riches were sent south, to Saruman, for want of someone better to send it to. Still more was sent with the loyalist leaders, to fund what Herumor had described as 'operations aimed at preventing barbarian consolidation.'

Meanwhile, the armed forces of Herumor could not be found. In barracks, piles of uniforms (often booby trapped, and always slashed with knives, to prevent, of al things, re-sale) awaited the Thelasi troops. Armouries throughout the nation had been emptied of every last weapon and piece of ammunition. Planes lay in their aerodromes, fuelled and ready, the lighter missiles having disappeared. Even nuclear weapons had disappeared, though they could quite easily be found - disassembled and dumped into deep lakes.

The citadels lay empty and silent, their undead guardians vanished deep beneath the earth, into the deepest delvings of Vinyaangmar, where the mineral wealth of the nation lay, ready to pursue the vendetta of their master against any who desired to pillage the resources that belonged rightly to him. As they retreated, they made sure to collapse mines and bore-holes, sabotage air-vents (they needed them not) and other such things aimed at causing a sharp drop in productivity.

Across the nation, tens of thousands tuned in to Allanean radio, and read Allanean propaganda, and the stirrings of dissent grew. Groups spoke of not just resisting the invaders, but of strange ideas called freedom and rights...

In a Bunker in Allanea

“So,” Kazansky begins, “they tracked back to our spam-servers. Funny people. Those things were dedicated machines, built for the sole purpose of spamming enemy hardware. I wonder what they’ll do about it. Shutdown those machines? They’ll not disable any of our functions. Diplomatically complain? They’ll look like idiots. Which they might actually be, you never know… “ he chuckles sadly.

“Now, lieutenant, to plan B. Do we already have the capacity to transmit to local radios?”

The Lieutenant smiles: “Yes, Sir, from both ships and sattelites in the area, Sir!”

Alexander Kazansky sighs as he looks at his adjutant: “For the hundredth time, don’t ‘Sir’ me!’

‘Yes Alex’.

‘Proceed with Operation Word of God’

‘Yes, Alex.’

Above Vinyaangmaar

Several ships emerged into realspace far, far above the nation – away from were the attention of the Thelasi was centered. From those ships descended – silently, it seemed in the dark emptyness of space – countless small gunships. As they entered what is known to astronomers as “low orbit”, they began dropping out packages, prepared for the rigours of athmosphered re-entry. Some were scheduled for the Allanean spies on the ground – they contained CB-“bombs” with more propaganda. Some were scheduled to end up being read by the more attentive of the Vinyaangmari. They contained books. Thousands of books by Ayn Rand, Thomas Paine, Neil Smith, Jefferson, Suprinowitch and Mencken.

Yet more packages broke apart as they slowed down in the athmosphere, showering the main cities of Vinyaagmar with copies of what Allaneans deemed the most important documents in hisotry – the American Bill of Rights, the Declaration of Independences, the Allanean Covenant, and so forth.

And this time the Allaneans were thorough – even as they bombarded any area of Vinyaangmar they could (amely, anything which didn’t have a Thelasi ship present), the many radio transmitters aboard Allanea’s miltary ships and sattelites in the area began broadcasting – reaching out to every radio set in Vinyaangmar with the simple and powerful message of freedom.

Namirin was ticked…. Okay… so really pissed off would be a better term. “These damn Allaneans… and people accuse us elves of poking our noses where they don’t belong.” Namirin was broken from his thoughts by the ships—male—AA, “Sir, enemy gunships detected in the lower atmosphere, unknown design.” Sighing, Namirin put down his cup of tea, “Okay Acharn, tactical analysis?” “Gunboats, dropping something to the ground… they look like the Radio beacons our troops have been finding.”
“So, in other words, Allanean?”
“There is a 99% likely hood.”
“Well… communications, let’s give them a standard ‘get off our turf’ greeting. Tactical, bring anti-ship weapons to battle-alert, pull magnetic screens to full power. Fighter control, dispatched Space Superiority fighters.”

Namirin stood and adjusted his uniform, boy, did he love his job,
“Allanean fighters, this is Force Commander Namirin, First Thelasi Warfleet, Flagship Acharn. You are entering Thelasi territory with the intent to subvert the Empire. I am giving you a chance to stop dropping those probes, turn around, and never. Come. Back. Otherwise, you will be considered a threat to the empire, and treated as such.”

From the massive docking bays of the Thelasi carriers, squadrons of fighters deployed and sped towards the gunships. Squadron Leader Amirath sat back in his cockpit and looked around through the sensors of his fighter, ‘Thank Eru for DNI…’.

In an impossible arc the squadrons turned, falling in behind the Allanean craft. “Allanean craft, this is Thelasi Squadron Leader Amirath, please head our commander’s warning and turn back immediately.” He contacted his other squadron mates, seconds later, the mass-drivers that the fighters used for guns, power up, and the magnetic deflection shields hummed to life. Amirath thought, ‘Your choice Allaneans… and you better make it quick.’

On the ground, the Thelasi moved quickly. Sweeping through the city and taking out resistance wherever they found it. More troops and begun to arrive in the cities, and now the troops and moved to the government centers, not the fortresses, but rather governmental buildings, and began to set up shop. The areas around them were turned into fortresses, machine guns, anti-air cannons, sand bags, the works.

Elsewhere, dropships loaded with medical supplies and food landed. The soldiers onboard began dispersing food and medical aid to the populace—even if it wasn’t needed, it was a nice gesture. In other parts of the cities, Thelasi patrols were sent out to investigate the surrounding areas, and to try and win over the local citizens.

Above Vinyaangmar

The dropships retreated, dropping their cargo as they went. Above, in the ships, troops ran for their positions, turrets locked on to spots on the ground, missiles were armed, and fighters loaded up with weapons. George Nathaniel Shwartz, commander of the USS Thomas Jefferson, frowned at the screen and turned to his assistant.

‘Bonnie, call the President. We will remain here, in orbit, and keep broadcasting. We must pull time.’


Rudolph Corbelli Shipyards, in orbit above Allanea

The station was alive with the sound of thousands of feet as Marines and sailors rushed for their vessels. Reactors hummed menacingly, when two battlegroups detached from the station and departed towards Vinyaangmar – the Total Demolition and the Fist of Freedom.

Frederick Hanson, a senior officer in the ‘Rudolph Corbelli’ control tower, blinked at the receiver.

‘This is USS Randall Weaver, requesting permission to depart, over’

His son was a gunner on the Weaver.

With a trembling voice, he responded: ‘Weaver, this is Corbelli, all clear. Good luck over there. Over and out.’

In a Bunker in Allanea.

‘So the Thelasi want to play that game with me, don’t they? Okay… let me prepare a message to them.’

From:Alexander Kazansky, President of Allanea
To: Nosirin of Thelas
CC: Any media outlet in Known Space

Dear friend!

It seems your troops are being rather unruly. They claim Vinyaangmar is Thelas territory, and preventing Allanean humanitarian aid from reaching the suffering people of Vinyaangmar. What business do your people have in Vynyaangmar anyway?

I am going to order that the dropping of aid from orbit continue until the situation is rectified.

Your loving friend,
Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky

The first orbit-dropped package was delivered later in the same day. It broke apart in low altitude, dropping out two hundred soft packages, each protecting a single cheap handgun, ten rounds of ammunition, and a user manual.

The weapon would be known to small arms expert as a Liberator ( http://www.kimdutoit.com/dr/weblog.php?id=P1399). On its side were proudly engraved the simple words ‘Made in the USA’.

Namirin sighed, this was getting out of hand, fast. Intel had told him that Kazansky was insane, and popular opinion was that Allaneans were even worse, but he didn’t think that Kazansky was this insane… well, nothing could be done about that. He leaned back in his seat and looked off at the three displays that filled the front half of the oval wall of the bridge. One screen was a simple visual image—enhanced by micro-scan RADAR—the next was a top-down tactical map of the area, the last, was a strategic map, showing the entire system. It was the strategic map that held his attention, there were two fleets off at the comet belt, in addition to the three fleets with the Acharn, and those would play a massive role.

At the belt, the two fleet began to move, coming loose from their moorings and speeding through the thousands, millions, billions, of ice asteroids that populated the belt. They moved quickly, and covertly, to the dark side of the moon.

Nosirin responded in kind, CCing the video message to media outlets,

“Ah, Kazansky, how nice to hear from you. I was about to contact you myself. Well, technically Vinyaangmar is Thelasi territory. We are securing the land from a dictatorial government, and attempting to bring peace, stability, order, and freedom to the region.

You, on the other hand, are attempting to subvert our efforts. Sending un-authorized radio messages into Thelasi territory, inciting the civilians to further actions of violence, sending your ships into Thelasi territory.

Now, let’s take a look at this, your ships are in Thelasi territory, and my loyal commander Namirin has given your fleet a choice: leave, or face the full wrath of Thelasi Imperial Forces. And about our business in Vinyaangmar, it is a matter of elven history. Lastly, on your ‘aid’ packages” he says this with a sarcastic hint, “I would prefer if you stop dropping pistols to the rebels. They won’t hurt our troops anyways, so their only purpose is attacking civilian contractors and aid workers.”

The message clicked off. Nosirin sat back and called up a tight-beam, encoded message to Namirin,
“Ah, Namirin my old friend!”
“Emperor Nosirin, pleasure to talk to you.”
“Indeed. I heard that you dragged off the Sixth and Eighth fleets.”
“Yes, I think that the situation might require some more… firepower.”
“Agreed. You think they’ll carry through on their bluster?”
“I have no doubt.”
“Very well. I am marshaling four more fleets, and another five hundred thousand.”
“As you wish, my Emperor. Namirin out.”

Nosirin nodded and sent off the orders, he knew that soon the messages would be sent of to the appropriate soldiers, calling them back into active deployment from their training assignments.

All across Thelas, families were separated, soldiers were pulled out of routine training, and sent into special ‘invasion training’ programs. Preparing them for space boarding actions, and space to ground invasions. Ahead of the troops, tanks, artillery, all the supplies and equipment that an invasion force would need, were being loaded onto the huge transports.

In the mean time, Namirin sat back in his chair, thinking, ‘It is time for something to be done. Work-camps growing by the day… power-hungry bastard… time for me to step up my actions.’

OOC: This message is broadcasted into Vinyaangmar by radio, elsewhere by radio and TV.

IC:

Official Message from Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky, President of the United States of Allanea

*Alexander Kazansky appears on screen. Behind him is an Allanean flag*

Allaneans! Vinyaangmari! Citizens everywhere!

Many of your must have already seen the so-called ‘letter’ sent to me by my friend Nosirin of Thelas. It is a disturbing document – it bothers me that an international leader has lied to me, to his people, to the world community, knowing – for my friend Nosirin must have known - that Vinyaangmar is not territory of the people of Vinyaangmar, and of nobody else. As I speak, three full battlegroups of the Allanean Stellar Navy are present at the area, and three more are under way. They will continue delivering humanitarian aid to the people of Vinyaangmar until the people of Vinyaangmar protest against it. They are the people who have the right to decide the matter, not Nosirin.

But let us omit this technical point for the time being. It seems that my dear friend Nosirin accuses me of disturbing peace and freedom in the area. How exactly have I done that? Does the esteemable Nosirin claim Allanea is disturbing the peace by dropping copies of work’s by Neil Smith, the gentle writer and adherent of the Non-Aggression Principle? Does the esteemable Nosirin claim we are removing stability from the area by broadcasting radio-play renditions of Ayn Rand’s books? Or are we infringing on the freedom of the Vinyaangmari by dropping copies of the original Bill of rights?

On the same principle, the esteemable Nosirin accuses us of encouraging the murder of humanitarian aid personnel by virtue of dropping out cheap single-shot handguns to the populace. Interesting. If this were true, there wouldn’t be a hospital left standing in Allanea by now. If the esteemable Nosirin were indeed concerned about the freedom and security of the Vinyaangmari, wouldn’t he at least ponder the fact that they need to be armed to protect them from the violence that is surely common in the instable areas of the country?

And if indeed some rogue elements of Nosirin’s forces – for whom the esteemable leader is surely not responsible – do choose to oppress the locals, let them know that even the best trooper in the multiverse cannot live in his armour forever. Let them also know I ordered that thousands more of Liberators be dropped, together with a smattering of various shotguns and rifles. As for the loyal troops of Thelas – those who do not oppress the innocent – I assure Nosirin they have nothing to fear, just as I have nothing to fear from my people, however impressively armed.

People of Vinyaangmar! I know you are suffering. You cannot but suffer, as you are oppressed. We Allaneans too have been recently under foreign rule. We have persevered. We have suffered. And we have prevailed because we never gave up. Your freedom is not to be granted or taken away, by Herumor, by Nosirin, by me or anybody else. Your freedom is within you. It is your right as it is the right of every sapient beinng in the multiverse.you will remain free, and not even all the guns an prisons of the world can not enslave you.

Do not expect me or my compatriots to set you free. I cannot set you free. The Allanean Army cannot set you free. Not all the guns and ships of the world can set you free, as long as you remain slaves in your mind and soul. Nobody can set you free. Only you can set yourself free.

Good night, Allaneans. Good night, Vinyaangmari. Good night, Thelasi.
May you all wake up freer tomorrow than you were today.

Namirin knew that he was “losing” the information war, yet this could be fought. He hated how the empire was portrayed as an “evil oppressive empire”, sure, Nosirin wasn’t the nicest of leaders, but that would soon be remedied, Nosirin was no longer a factor, Namirin was in control of this situation.

Radio messages were broadcast allover the land of Vinyaangmar—from the station in orbit. The voice speaking was soft, not the hard tone of a soldier barking orders, or the voice of a slick salesman, but a voice that could belong to many people across the lands.

“People of Vinyaangmar. You believe that we Thelasi are ‘ruthless barbarian invades’. Then, why do your, considerable, riches remain in your coffers? Why have your people not been rounded up and deported to the much emphasized ‘labor camps’ that you old leader spoke of. Why do we distribute food and supplies among you?

People of Vinyaangmar, the Allaneans claim to be trying to give you greater freedoms that we offer, but is that true? We offer you the chance to be included into the Thelasi Empire, each and every one of you a citizen, with the same “unalienable rights” that each and every Thelasi, elf or human, is guaranteed. The right to elect a ten representatives for each province: the right to carry firearms, the right to free speech, so long as it does not harm another, the right to elect a governor from the chosen pool, and the right for your top citizens to sit in the House of Nobles.

We offer you these and many other rights. We also offer you stability, a strong military to protect you, all in return for your co-operation. There is no need for you to suffer because of the crimes against your leader, a leader who did not treat you well. Three is no need for a bloody guerilla war that will only end in the deaths of hundreds of civilians, and accomplish nothing except a stronger Thelasi resolution to endure.

We offer you peace, hope, freedom, and life. Grasp the hand that is offered to you, and help us build a new future for the nation of Vinyaangmar.”

Sighing, Namirin knew that Nosirin would be furious. Promising benefits that didn’t exist in the Empire, it was tantamount to treason, but his commander, his commander would bring about those changes. As for now, removal of the Allanean threat was first on the agenda.

From: FC Namirin
To: Commander, Allanean Forces

“Look, neither of us want war here, but if you continue to pester us, a war is what you’re going to get. As one commander to another, I seriously advise you to turn around those starships of yours and—to borrow a saying—get off my grass.

Now, I am the first one to tell you that this would be a long and bloody battle should it erupt, and I don’t want it to erupt in the first place (blasting people back to the stone-age isn’t on my list of ‘things to do this week’). Now, can’t be civilized people and stay off each others toes?”

Now it was Namirin who was buying time. His fleet was halfway to its position behind the moon, if he could hold off for a little while longer his trap would be set. Two Thelasi war-fleets would be waiting on the dark side of the moon, awaiting that one moment when he could deploy them to best advantage.

Two Tirn strode down the hallway towards Nosirin’s office, their jet black armor shining in the light from the crystal lamps.

Vinyaangmarian Resistance Front, Nuach Carn Dûm, a building belonging to a cell in an industrial area

Everything had been set up, the building was a deserted craftsman's shop, its former owner had been paid handsomely for it. It had been chosen because it had a nice basement that didn't show from the outside (ironically, this had been secretly constructed by an anti-Herumor movement. Numerous anti-Herumor movements still existed of course, and while the Vinyaangmarian Resistance Front was now by far the major force - some enterprising individual had even started pamphletting, hollow rhetoric about resisting the barbarian invaders spiced up with bits and pieces from the endless barrage of Allanean agitprop - these groups still existed, but were keeping low for now, without the impressive resources of the rapidly establishing but still chaotic VRF, they deemed it best to let the VRF bear the brunt of Invader retaliation.

Numerous airtight barrels of explosives had been quietly moved into the basement, isolated beneath a tank of old industrial lubricant to prevent particles from leaving them and triggering any sensors the Thelasi may have operating. Only a single wire emerged from the tank, snaking its way up the stairs of the basement and into the back room, where the aforementioned pamphlets were being stored. A man sat behind a table, a pile of pamphlets stacked up on it. His name was Gorien Selton. While it wasn't official VRF policy to make martyrs, he had volunteered to be the first such 'martyr' in the coming struggle, it was necessery that the Thelasi believe that there was someone to arrest. He sat behind the table, his foot near a crude and bulky switch on the floor, in a steel housed box with a white cable trailing away downstairs, a deadman's switch. The table had been set up so that no line of sight could be drawn between it and the outside of the building.

Gorien idly drummed his fingers against the casing of the Allanean built AAR-36 rifle, and sighed, wondering aloud, "When will these bastards get here?" it seemed like longer, but another member of the cell had only recently placed a call to the Thelasi. As well as the primary goal of killing Thelasi, this operation was conceived by the directors of the VRF to discredit informants shopping their operations to the Thelasi. Much of the VRA had still yet to truly establish itself, and operational security was a true challenge. The caller, Djihn Soth, had been rather explicit that he believed this place to be the base of the pamphletting operation in this area, and eager about potential rewards to be gained. And so Gorien waited, he waited for the sound of footsteps outside, or the tell-tale hum of the Thelasi gravitic motors. As he did, he returned to his chosen reading nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.

He waited for death, one hand on a weapon, the other slowly tracing its way down the page of the Bill of Rights.

Official Announcement By Lieutenand Andrew Livonsky, AAF

This is an official announcement to the people of Vinyaangmar, on orders of President Kazansky.

It is known to any educated man that tyrants and their agents will often lie an mislead for the sake of keeping power. The Thelasi have accused us of offering to ‘give’ you greater than freedom than they offer – inferring that the United States of Allanea would wish to subvert Vinyaangmar. That is a bold-faced lie. Never had Allanea expressed such a desire – though we will not object if any province of Vinyaangmar joins the Union voluntarily. Nor can the Allaneans give you any freedoms – your freedoms are already yours. You may only stop the Thelasi from infringing upon them.

The Thelasi claim all dwellers of Thelas have their rights guaranteed. That is a lie. Not even the elves in Thelas benefit from all the legal protections they claim to have. And what about trial by jury? Presumption of innocence? Habeas corpus? What about the dozens of things that are illegal in Thelas but are fully legal in Allanea – and will be in Vinyaangmar if you choose. The choice is yours. Not anybody else’s.

Today you will recevie ocular proof of the benefits of freedom. It will help you make the choice. It is all we can do for you. You will make the choice. Not anybody else.

The way to determine an invader is not whether he sends people to labour camps or gives out food. The way to recognise an invaders is by asking yourself one single question: if you ask him to leave, will he? Think of it, Vinyaangmari – Herumor is no longer in power. If the role of the Thelasi was just to remove him, why don’t they leave now?

You know the answer. So do I.

Now, for the President’s message for the Thelasi. We have six BattleGroups in position over Vinyaangmar. Orbital space, as you know, is neutral and is not part of Vinyaangmari territory – which is still by the way Vinyaangmari territory. There is no legitimacy for your demands. We will not obey them just because you happen to have a bigger gun.

Today, 100,000 Liberator handguns, and 20,000 rifles of theAAR-36 and FN-FAL models were dropped to the people of Vinyaangmar, together with various literature and information sources. Four more battlegroups were summoned to the area.

Livonsky out.


Apart from the rifles, there was a special addition to the usual load of propaganda and books - photographs. Photographs of the streets of Port-Allanea, teeming with life, with citizens going on their daily business while the arms that were the mark of their liberty glinted proudly on their belts. Photographs of the Port-Allanea skyline, with the skyscrapers only a free nation was afford. The two-mile shadow of the Miriel nos Feanor as the embodiment of the power of freedom. And, finally, a statue of a single man standing tall and proud, clutching a rifle in its bronze hands - the defiance that makes freedom possible - the Charlton Heston monument.

This was the proof Livonsky spoke of.

We will make this very simple Thelasi. You wanted rid of Herumor? He is gone. Now, leave Vinyaangmar.

- VRF Spokesperson

Namirin sat back in his chair; about now, he hated his job. The Allaneans had been pushing and pushing and pushing, and as far as the senior Force Commander was concerned, enough was enough. The two other fleets had taken up their positions behind the moon, and were patiently waiting for orders. Their fighters had been deployed into space, and were awaiting orders, the bomber’s cargo bays loaded with torpedoes and anti-ship mines.

Leaning back in his chair, he radioed the Allaneans,

“Commander, Allanean fleet, this is Force Commander Namirin” he paused, remembering the old saying of an ancient warrior, “Your chances for repentance have been given, may God accept your souls.”

Clicking off the channel, whispered, “All stations, fire at will.”

With a metallic whine, the massive Gravitic accelerators began to fire, huge shells, containing massive nuclear warheads, were accelerated at speeds too tremendous for the mind to comprehend, and then hurled at the Allanean fleet.

Missiles were fired from the Thelasi ‘stand-off’ ships—their crews often accused of cowering behind the larger ‘assault’ vessels—small missiles, no larger than a modern Phoenix, and they were mostly aimed at fighters and smaller craft—as said, fighters, gunships, bombers, et cetera—who were more vulnerable to the miniature nuclear warheads.

The larger Thelasi warships, the Dagor El class ships, the Battleships and Battle-cruisers, began to move towards the Allanean fleet. With speed that defied their large size, and with agility that seemed to come naturally with the sleek designs of their hulls, they moved towards the Allanean fleet, turrets letting loose a hail of the earlier mentioned shells.

The fleet itself began to close with the Allaneans, moving in like a four bladed claw. The more lightly armored destroyers and frigates sat at each of the tips of the claw, while the larger capital ships sat at the front of the center, the stand-off ships behind them.

The station, continued to float silently, the massive def-guns still remained silent, loaded, but silent.
The two remained hidden, at full alert, yet completely still, behind the moon.
The war-fleets gathering in Thelas prepared to depart, bringing more and more Thelasi power to the area above Vinyaangmar.

Over the radio was broadcast another message,

“People of Vinyaangmar, this day the Thelasi Star Navy has begun a battle against the Allanean forces in orbit. Witness today the power of the Star Empire, witness today the might which we can use to protect you in this volatile world. Witness today the glory of the Empire.

You have all heard of the Allaneans’ ‘freedom,’ yet have you considered the price that they pay? Legal drugs; people are addicted to Marijuana and LSD. Unrestricted fire-arms; armed criminals walk the streets with assault rifles. High crime, strained healthcare. Compare that to Thelas. We have some of the lowest crime rates in the Galaxy, every person in Thelas is guaranteed basic healthcare, and a safety net, every child is guaranteed schooling in the latest sciences.

You see? Life in the Empire is not the horrendous mess that the Allaneans paint it to be. The elections, the peace and tranquility of living, guarded by a powerful military, cradled by a strong economy that has been in a constant state of growth for several hundred years.

Please, set aside your arms, save your lives and the lives of many civilians who would be killed by your actions. Receive our offer of amnesty for your crimes against us, embrace your future.”

Meanwhile, on the planet, a group of soldiers moved past the building where the rebels hid, as per usual, the troops circled the building once. Fifteen of them returned to the transports, while five of them moved inside, unaware of the danger…

In orbit, above Vinyaangmar

This was supposed to be a safe mission. Hang about, drop some leaflets, supplies, and so forth. The diplomats would handle the details, the sailors thought. That was in fact what everybody really thought. Nobody expected the Thelasi to be ruthless and stupid enough to strike.

“Holy mother of god…” – gasped one of the sailors aboard the Randall Weaver as he watched, on the screens of his vessel, two of the Hive class vessels belonging to his battlegroup become blossoming flower of fire.

Red Alert! This is not a drill! I repeat, this is not a drill! All crews to battlestations!

The crewman ran towards his position. As he turned his back to the screens, he did not notice the USS Legalization cargo ship spin in space, it’s engines disabled by a hit.

Aboard the USS Bjorn Lomborg

‘Admiral, we’re taking heavy losses!’ – shrieked the female assistant. ‘We’ve lost all our Hives, Sir! Heavy fighter losses, Sir! Heavy dropship losses! Heavy![/I]

The Admiral raised an eyebrow: ‘Is that all, girl?’

‘No, Sir! The Legalization is disabled as well, Sir!’.

‘I see. Let us proceed as per our tactical plans, then.’

She blinked, astonished at his calmness: ‘Yes, Sir!’

From the ships of the Fist of Freedom, battlegroup, reports began coming in: ‘Farad Cannons loading, Sir! Fighters off-deck, Sir!’

The cruisers of the battlegroup became filled with the strange green energy that is the mark of the Farad Cannon, taking aim at two of the heavier Thelasi cruisers (four Allanean cruisers per Thelasi target), while the carriers unleashed their fighter capacity to guard the cruisers as they aimed. The Valiance class vessel reshaped itself and loaded, becoming nothing more or less than a 1,556 meter long cannon, aimed at the Akharn.

On other ships of the Allanean navy, the same thing happened,

Aboard the USS Legalization

The ships bolted and jerket helplessly. The artificial gravity has already failed, and sailors were thrown about mecilessly as the vessel was thrown about by the explosion. Sometimes, a person would impact something hard and sharp. Then, a scream was heard, and blobs of uncoagulated blood floated soundlessly through the cold air, as the refined essence of pain.

People were ‘swimming’ towards the escape pods, launching pod after pod after pod into the empty cold of space, only to have them massacred by the Thelasi. Perhaps they were mistaken for a fighter craft. Perhaps not. Nobody could tell. Nor did it matter.

Seconds later, the USS Legalization exploded, throwing the last, burning pods into space. The people in the pods were least lucky. They would have about fifteen more painful seconds to live.

Aboard the USS Allanea

Grand-Admiral Ralph Abramovich paled. The losses were enormous. Twelve Hive[I] class vessels. One cargo vessels. Hundreds of dropships and fighters. Sixteen frigates. Yet they still had a chance – if they held out.

With a trembling voice, he gave his orders:

‘Get the full complement of the drones we have of the Hives. Hit them with everything we have.’

If any Thelasi poet was on board at the time, he could have compared the approaching mass of drones – cheap, expendable, worthless junk that was programmed to ram enemy ships and self-destruct after it expended ammunition supplies – with a mass of spaceborne locusts. Alone, each was was nearly harmless. The swarm was nearly unstoppable. After the drones, frigates (http://www.bateshome.com/jordan/omni.htm) and corvettes strafed the Thelasi with missiles, beam weapons, and shells. Those attacks were concentrated on the lighter frontline Thelasi ships.

Abramovich smiled as the attack commenced. “And now,’ he said, ‘for the big fish. Fry ‘em.’

The dozens of Kryptonite-class cruisers fired. They were assigned twelve of the biggest Thelasi warships, grouping in at about four ships per target. The six enormous Valiance-class ships fired as well. [I]Their Farad cannon were poised at the Acharn.

OOC: Questions?

Even as the Thelasi soldiers were sent into a great fireball by the distant terrorist, in the far north of Vinyaangmar a figure crept toward a small and distant hamlet, but even this had not been left out of the comprehensive Allanean ideology. The figure seemed small, his true bearing of majesty and terror concealed as best he could, and he was shrouded all in black but for a great sword, the work of dread furnaces in the long perished Sammath Naur, girded onto him, beneath shrouds and vestments of the deepest night. The cold black earth here matched them well at this time of year.

The figure turned to the sky, lights flashing, and from under his cowl, a wordless hiss of resentment came. He lifted his hand high to the sky, balled into a fist, and shook it at the great warships high above him, inwardly cursing their captains to a thousand heartbreaks and woes, but not putting forth true meaning. As he approached the hamlet, Herumor looked around. The quaint buildings let forth smoke, and this place was clearly inhabited. The largest of these, marked in the script of the men of Carn Dûm as ‘General Store’ no less, was his destination.

Throwing wide the door, Herumor, now a shrivelled and weakened figure, entered the abode beyond. He looked up at the wall of the store, he saw an offensive sight, a poster upon the wall, of Allanean design, extolling the virtues of a ‘free’ society. He laughed to see it, and his guise slipped. The Majesty of old came into his voice, and it reverberated deeply around the small building. Freedom, it was laughable – the idea that the common peasant had the fortitude, strength of will and wisdom to rule his own destiny. It could no more be a truth of these people, these Allaneans than it was anywhere else. Those with will and wisdom would still direct the masses, by less honest means perhaps, but supposedly ‘free’ people would be ruled nonetheless, and would have little idea that they were being controlled.

The man behind the counter of the store glared at him, recognition flooding him. He took up another gift from these foreign fools, and took aim at the deposed king. Herumor lifted his hand, and the rifle bucked in the storekeeper’s hand, shaking as it was riven through with cracks, a power flooding it until at last it burnt with the inner light of molten steel. A scarce heartbeat after the black clad hand’s gesture, it was shattered as though made of ice and dropped from a great hand. It blew apart into a thousand pieces.

“Keep and bear arms indeed…” Herumor said, slowly shaking his head as if in disbelief.

Do not think us easily swayed by your lies and deceit sauriquendi. Do you believe that the eyes of Vinyaangmar are blind? Let us examine the claims, 'elf,' that you make.


We witness your power even now. The power of a space fleet that has many centuries of experience to not summarily crush newcomers like the Allaneans, whose summed experience is under two decades. We are unimpressed by this display.
Legal drugs, believe us, are far from a concern in the Occupied Territories. Unlike your own accursed selves, the Allaneans have stated no intent to impose their rule on us by force and tyranny. Such things shall be our own to deicide once you are cast out, back to whatever foul abyss spawned you and your kind.
Unrestricted firearms - you will forgive a militia organisation such as ourselves for being rather keen on firearms. Dare we ask, are Thelasi criminals - we speak mind of those who defy the regime there, not of its own state sponsored thugs - unarmed? We doubt this is so.
Ah yes. Crime. We would rather be plagued by criminals than saddled with an intruding busybody on every street corner monitoring our every coming and going and dragging off our sons and daughters, fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters off for thought crimes and other such travesties.
All reliable sources say that your state healthcare is nonexistent, Thelasi.
We doubt your education system is anywhere near as good as you boast.
Elections? Why is it you perpetually end up with one of your so-called ‘high’ mages - nay, do not start, we know them well, ruling you if you truly embrace democracy? Your claims of democracy are at best a sham, and if you do not know it, then you truly are a pitiful fool.
The great economic strength of Thelas. Whoever this great economy profits, it is not your people. In pure monetary terms, until your invasion, the GDP per capita of our nation outclassed your own paltry efforts by 12,037 Universal Standard Dollars - in essence, we have almost twice as much money as your own poverty stricken subjects.
To return to the power of the Thelasi military - when have you abhorred-elves actually won a war against an opponent more than half your size?


You are pathetic barbarians, Sauriquendi, Faithless and Accursed, who should be destroyed utterly. We will however, settle for your departure from our lands, never to return.

VRF Statement Issued via National Media almost immediately

Namirin swore, in a complex, and somewhat strange version of Sindarin mind you, as the shots lanced towards the Acharn. Sitting back in his chair, he felt the Acharn buck as she was hit by the first several shots, the many, many, many meter thick armor on the Dagor El absorbing the damage. The entire crew felt the ship shudder as the Battle Star changed course, several shots from the Faraad cannons went right past the hull of the Thelasi ship. Though she was a maneuverable ship, the Acharn still couldn’t avoid many of the shots. She was able to spread out the damage, her magnetic shields spreading out the force of the Faraad cannon fire over the entire hull of the one point six kilometer warship.

Though the ship itself was alright, the crew was a tad… rattled. Namirin had been thrown over the back of his chair from the shockwave, and several other officers had been thrown around, “Report!”
A tactical officer checked over his screen, “All system green, medium level damage to outer-hull plating. Ablative armor on ventral section alpha has blown free.”
“Alright, return fire, all weapons. Order the fleets to begin stage two operations.”

Behind the moon, the two war-fleets, Azure-Wrath and God’s Grace, waited. Seconds after receiving the message from Namirin, Admiral Heinrath began to give the orders that would lead up to the beginning of the end of the Allanean ships. The large “broad-head” missile tubes were loaded with ‘packages’ of five “hunter-head” medium range missiles, armed with five-fifty megaton warheads.

Short-range tubes were loaded, and the massive cannons of the Thelasi ships were armed, powered up, and primed. With great haste, the forty-eight ships moved out from behind the cover of the moon. It might have been by chance, or by fate, that the sun was to the back of the Thelasi warships, silhouetting their black shapes against the fiery white ball of energy that was the sun. Seconds later, small shapes fired away from the Thelasi ship, the packaged Hunter-head VIII missiles.

In the mean time, on the planet, the Thelasi were… well, annoyed would be a good description. It was hard for the officers to understand, “Blowing up a building, causing it to collapse, killing… five troops and wounding six… and causing many civvies to be killed by falling debris, all in all, a useless effort.

But the Thelasi knew that even these small attacks could add up into something annoying. Thus, they deployed one of their more… useful little inventions. A small probe like device, two feet long, and about six inches long and wide, the HAPB (Hostile Area Patrol Bot) was armed with two pulse cannons, a “Electric Suppression Cannon” (reusable variable setting Taser) and a sonic device, able to cause intense pain to mild discomfort over a variable area. The small bots patrolled the streets, hovering far above the heads of the populace, and monitoring their actions, watching for any hints of rebellion against the Thelasi Star Empire.

The Thelasi began broadcasting another message, this time using a tracking devise to look for where the rebels were sending from.

“People of Vinyaangmar, we have promised you elections, and elections we shall deliver. In four weeks our government offices will open for applicants for the regional representatives. It is an open process, all that is required are two thousand signatures from the populace, willing signatures. Any one found to have gained votes or signatures by illegal means will be arrested as a traitor to the Empire.

In about a month, the House of Governors will ask the populace to select their candidates through the same means as the Representative elections. The list will then be approved by a committee of the Governors, and from this pool the people of Vinyaangmar will select their new governor.

We hope that you will also recognize that more of these freedoms will be transferred, and that troops will be withdrawn, once these obstructionist rebels cease their murdering of your countrymen, and our troops alike.”

OOC: Forgot some things in my last post…

IC:

Still slightly shaking from the Acharn’s brush with the Farad cannons, Namirin slowly pieced himself together enough to request a statues report,
“Alright, what did we loose?”
“Four destroyers, two frigates… a cruiser…. And the battle-cruiser Isen is reporting several outer armor breaches.”
“Alright not too bad…”

Turning back to the screen, Namirin cursed, for the second time within five minutes, as the saw the Allanean “drone” fighters. To most people, his sitting back in the chair might denote a lack of concern, in fact, his mind was linking up with the ship’s computer itself, giving out numerous commands as fast as thoughts, no cumbersome verbal restraints.

Nods, and “Yessirs” filled the bridge as his minor officers began to carry out the orders with practiced efficiency. From the two large docking bays on either side of the Acharn’s hull squadrons of fighters launched directly into the Allanean drones. They came out of the huge blast doors already at full combat speed, having been launched into space by the same mechanics that powered the Thelasi mass-drivers which were shelling the Allanean fleet.

The fighters themselves were marvels, true space superiority fighters, designed to use Thelasi Direct Neural Interface technology to its maximum. Though they might have been fighters, each of the Shadow class fighters had four small turrets, two on each wing, one on top, one on the bottom. These turrets were low powered, barely threatening to anything larger than a fighter, but to the Allanean drones, they were deadly. Partially controlled by the pilot, and partially controlled by the fighter’s inbuilt AI, the turrets compensated for every move of the Shadow, maintaining their deadly lock on the Allanean drones.

Yet even with the armor that protected the Thelasi fighters, and the magnetic screens, many of them were still lost in the dog-fight—if for no other reason than there were a ton of the drones—and many Allanean drones made it past the fighters, into the Thelasi fleet. But even after the first gauntlet had been passed, there was more, the Thelasi ships weren’t defenseless, and weapons fire—mostly small mass-driver rounds—poured from the thousands of small guns among the Thelasi ships, their formation causing the fire-spreads to interlock, a drone had to dodge fire from two, three, or even five or six Thelasi warships before it reached its target.

And then there was the Kamikaze. When a fighter began its dive, it faced the highest likely hood of being destroyed. Diving directly down towards the Thelasi ships, providing the perfect opportunity for the gunners, linked directly into the ships weapons, to target, and destroy the Allanean fighters.

Finally, you had the actual impact. If a fighter was destroyed as it was diving on a warship, its’ pieces would often still impact the Thelasi warship, but with less force, and over a scattered area. Even entire fighters impacting ships did little damage, but sometimes they were just lucky enough to do damage, mostly to the carriers. It was rare that they even made it that far into the fleet, but all it took was one fighter hitting the docking bay at just the right time and just the right angle, and the fire-fighters would be having a long a difficult battle.

The pure hydrogen fuel for the fighters was highly flammable, and it was hard to put out a gas fire, if the crashing drone managed to puncture and ignite the fuel tanks of the re-fueling fighters. The fires that were started were quickly put out, the entire dockings bays decompressing in seconds, the bay workers, pilots, and other crew-men all wearing their combat uniforms. (Interesting info OOCly, when going into battle all Thelasi personnel put on either combat armor or space-suits. A special alarm triggers throughout the ship inside a section that is decompressing that causes the suit to go onto internal oxygen. These suits double as fire-suits.)

Slowly, the six huge cannons on the orbiting Thelasi station slowly started to turn, lining up with the larger Allanean ships—excluding the empty carriers—and fired. Huge, gigantic, shells, containing nuclear warheads in the one to two giga-ton range, suddenly were accelerated at insane speeds by the gravity generators within the barrels. The Thelasi hadn’t launched any fighters for a reason. They weren’t concerned about the blast itself—shock-waves don’t travel well in outer space—the Thelasi were concerned about the radiation. Radiation of the levels released by six massive giga-ton warheads could seriously damage any ships in the area, fighters might have their radiation screens overcome, and their pilots irradiated. Namirin didn’t envy the Allanean soldiers. If they were captured by the Thelasi, they could be treated with nano-technology, but Namirin didn’t know the extent of Allanean medical tech.

Speaking of the survivors,
“Lieutenant, re-adjust missile parameters to avoid the escape pods. Order our gunners to avoid the pods if at all possible.”
“It is done milord.”

Namirin nodded, the Allaneans might be enemies, but their people should not suffer for the stupidity of their leaders.

On the planet, Thelasi combat troops loaded into transports, APCs, IFVs and even MBTs, mostly Morchant Tirith, other troops filed out into columns on either side of the transports. It was time for operation Emerald Sweep. Behind the hover transports were large vehicles, the size of eighteen-wheelers. From the outside they appeared to be lightly armored, or even unarmored, yet underneath the grey outside was a thick layer of armor, thick enough to repel even modern—by Thelasi standards—anti-tank rounds.

Within these transports were things that most people wouldn’t expect such a convoy to carry, food, water, school-books, nano-tech medicines, vaccines, and other needed supplies. Setting off, the convoy visited schools throughout the capitol, distributing the books, medicines, and vaccines. They then moved into the slums, distributing food, water, more medicine and vaccines, and in effect running a sweep throughout the entire area. Criminals who the soldiers saw were arrested and thrown into some of the vacated transports. Those who were seriously ill with cancer, HIV/AIDS and other complex viruses and ills were moved into other transports where the team medics had set up basic medical care facilities, to be taken back to Thelas.

Finally, after completing the rounds, the vehicles turned around and made their way back to the main Thelasi base, near the center of the city. The sick civilians who had been transported were transferred into a base hospital until they could be transported back up to the base facility in orbit. (OOC: If you wouldn’t mind, I would appreciate Mephet RPing the civilians, any one from a high lord, to a lowly peasant could be on the transports)

At the same time as these operations progressed, above Vinyaangmar, the Thelasi war-machine slowly began to work up to full speed. Within the giant factories aboard the Delos Ring, weapons, armor, ammunition and supplies were being turned out at a massive pace: parts for fighters, parts for guns, entire fighters, shells, and nuclear warheads by the thousands, enough to decimate hundreds of worlds.

Construction was already starting in the huge ship-yards to replace the ships lost by the Thelasi fleets, and fleets on stand-by or training duty were hurriedly being re-armed and touched up to be ready for combat. Troops on the planet marched to stations and the defenses above Thelasi went up to full power. Travel was restricted, and strict screening was put in place on all cargo entering or leaving Thelas.

Suddenly, it was not Nosirin giving mobilization orders, but some one else. A Force Commander named Amachar, a close personal friend of Namirin. Rumors quickly spread of a take-over in the palace, but those rumors were soon quashed. Nosirin had simply delegated more responsibility to his commanders, especially after his doctor announced that the Emperor had a nervous breakdown.

The announcement came through the channels, five thousand Urban Militia units from the city of Mecharin were to be mobilized for duty in Vinyaangmar. These troops, having trained specifically for irregular combat—and ‘defensive peace-keeping’—in cities were to be deployed to major urban areas across Vinyaangmar to supplement Thelasi troops.

Along with these troops were six thousand Mountaineers. These troops were much like the Urban Militia troops. Irregulars who were trained for mountain combat in particular. They would be patrolling all around Vinyaangmar, using their expertise in rocky combat environments to their advantage.

These troops, titled simply under “militia” were not the militia that most think of. Not the poorly equipped, poorly trained soldiers, they were just differently equipped and trained from the Thelasi regulars like Morchant Tirith. With lighter armor, the militia troops usually carried modified packages, from under barrel RPG launchers, (OOC: Another note! Thelasi RPGs are literally standard grenades with a small rocket on the back, usually fired from an—recoilless—under-barrel launcher) sniper rifles, light mortars and plasma throwers—Mountaineers—to sub-machine guns, mine and bomb diffusion kits, and under barrel RPG launchers—Urban Militia.

Finally, there were the troops who were already organized, at this time, being loaded onto the massive transports that would take them to Vinyaangmar. It had been a marvel of Thelasi logistics. Huge cargo containers had been pre-loaded with the supplies and equipment that would be needed, while the invasion was still in planning. Then, when the time had arrived, they were easily bulk loaded onto the multi kilometer long Thelasi transports. Now, all that was left was to organize the troops.

OOC: Okay, so four pages of 12 point type worth of stuff.

IC:

Aboard the USS Concord

“Sir, incoming fire, starboard!” – one of the gunners aboard the Kolob-class fighter screamed as he jerked his turret’s control handles to swing it around, bring his point defense plasma-bolt cannon at the missiles that, surprisingly, were coming from a side totally opposite to where the Thelasi ships were. He and his comrades hit some. Others were destroyed by the massive fighter escort the Allaneans enjoyed. Some, however…

“Holy mother of God…” – the captain breathed out as he watched the USS Alaska get hit three times, once by one of the immense Thelasi nuclear shell, and twice by the Hunter missiles. The screen filled by an immense flash of light as the Kryptonite-class vessel disintegrated. Then all went blacked as the sensors of the USS Concord died.

Somewhere in space

John shrieked in terror as he saw the Battle of Athens, the Tomi Lapid, and the Heston-city go the way of the Alaska. Another shell disintegrated as the point-defense of the USS Allanea got it. Then John saw the last shell.

He was a pilot behind the controls of a finely-tuned-up Ann Coulter Mark VII transathmospheric fighter-bomber craft. He was one of the best pilots in his battlegroup. He had an aging mother of sixty-five, and two little brothers just out of kindergarten. And when he saw, on his radar screen, a single point of light advanced quickly towards one of the Allanean hospital ships, he had only one thing to do.

The shell was too immensely fast on ground-based standards. Even in space, where distances where huge and everything was fast, it would be difficult for John Charles Jaspers, Jr., to actually hit it with a first shot – and he didn’t have time for a second one. He had only one thing to do.

Jaspers locked on to the shell. He was not going to be capable of firing at it. But he did not want to waste his – and the hospital ship’s – only chance. He screamed loudly: ‘Yeee-haw!’ as his path met that of the incoming shell. A second later, the shell impacted the fighter and disintegrated. Later, they would call John a hero. If he were alive, he’d disagree. After all, he had only one thing to do.

Aboard the USS Allanea, a few minutes later

The High Admiral blinked as the lights came back on, dozens of redundant systems kicking alive. He surveyed what could be called a field of battle if it were down on the ground. In it’s current fashion… but what do you call a huge bit of space with debris floating through it, the remains of four cruisers and an immense amount of fighters – about three hundred, he was told.

He paled as he read through the new casualty reports… this was not good. This was every commander’s nightmare. But something had to be done… time had to be pulled until they could reload the Farad weapons for another go – or for him to use the ace he was hiding in his sleeve.
.
He whispered something to the assistant. The man paled. Evidently, what the Grand Admiral has just spoken of was not supposed to be used the way the Grand Admiral wanted to. The assistant gasped, “But, Sir, this is only a last resort solution…”

The Grand Admiral frowned: “We lost seventeen ships by now, Major. I consider this to *be* a last resort situation. Prepare targets.” The Major blinked at his superior as he began typing frantically. In the meanwhile, the turrets of all Allanean craft rained down fire on the Thelasi.

“Oh, yes…” added the Grand Admiral, almost as an afterthought. “I understand our Kolob-class manned carriers are armed with Farad weaponry as well, is that correct?” The Major arched an eyebrow at his superior : “Why, yes, Sir. You only need to look at the design….”

“Good. Here’s what we do while we’re charging up the Farad cannon on the cruisers and distracting the Thelasi with turret fire. We have, I believe, four carriers per battlegroup. With the six battlegroups that are here, this gives us twenty four Farad cannon. I want you to tell them to fire all of their Farad Cannon, and I mean, all of them, at the Acharn. This is enough firepower to fry a small moon.”

“But, Sir, isn’t this overkill?”

“No. The thing shrugged off fire from six Farad cannon. Nothing is overkill. I repeat, nothing. Speaking of overkill, fire the Slayers. And the decoys, too. Go for it.”

Immediately, just as the twenty-four Farad beams focused onto the Acharn, each of the six craft unleashed a cloud of decoy missiles, speeding out to a separate target. Hidden in each cloud was a single three-gigaton Slayer-class missile.

“This should do the trick by the time I can play my card.”, giggled the Grand Admiral.

Back in Allaena, in the Philip Luty Memorial Aircraft Training Center

The top of the steel simulator device slid off, discovering the tall yet frail body of the creature that was President of the United States of Allanea. He was pale, his nose was bleeding, and his hair dishevelled, uncovering his slightly pointed ears. He surveyed the approaching crowd of assistants.

“You know people, I do think using small artificial gravity devices to manufacture a simulator that actually reproduces the high gees and everything was neat. Not very healthy,” he stopped to wipe the blood off his face, “but abso-freaking-lutely neat, people. I wonder what it’ll do if you run something like Descent or Blue Star on it,” he mused as one of the assistants handed him a paper.

“The Vinyaangmar Conflict Zone, Sir. We are progressing as planned, Sir.”

“Good, go on.”


Back over Vinyaangmar

Several flashes of fire in a totally different position – and the aid the Allaneans have asked for long ago had arrived. Four extra battlegroups, bringing up the total amount of Allanean battlegroups in the area to ten, jamming the Thelasi in huge space pincers.

This fleet fought the Thelasi by a tactic slightly different from that used by the Grand Admiral. The cruisers and fleet capital ships did not fire their Farad Cannons, but instead brought every turret a missile launcher they had on to the Thelasi, substitutin sheer volum of power for the power of individual shot. They released every single drone they had – but not a single manned vehicle – at the the Thelasi. Again, the radar screens went blue.

In the meanwhile, the freshly-available carriers began to descend, surrrounded by dozens of manned dropships, fighters, and frigates.

As soon as they re-entered the amothphere, the sky filled with parachutes, carrying men in heavy powered armour – the Ronald Reagan Powered Armour Division, United States Marine Corps. Besides them landed small groups of civilian volunteers – former marksmanship instructors, teachers, NRA sportsmen. Their job was not to fight, but to teach. And they would do it flawlessly – those few that stayed alive, of course.

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!

The Force Commander Namirin punched the ‘evac’ button as he watched the numerous Farad cannon rounds streak in towards the Acharn. All over the massive Dagor El class vessel, alarm claxons sounded as troops rushed towards their escape pods, and the remaining fighters, drop ships, and bombers were loaded and launched. Seconds later, the Farad cannon blasts impacted the Thelasi ship. To an outside observer it was a beautiful sight as green energy visibly arced along the magnetic shields of the Acharn, then leapt from ship to ship within the Thelasi fleet, for a second creating a supercharged state of the shields on the vessels which it hit. It was his blast that saved the largest of the Thelasi warships from the barrage of shells from the Allanean vessels.

The smaller ships on the outskirts of the fleet were not so lucky. Several frigates, some cruisers, and a destroy shattered into millions of fragments, their crews barely having time to make it to their escape pods. Aboard the Acharn, things weren’t so much better: fires raged across the beleaguered ship and great holes had opened up in the ships outer hull, but the main parts of the hull still held together. On the bridge, Namirin sighed as he surveyed the damage. Slowly, he turned to walked out of the bridge towards his shuttle.

(OOC: No one post, I’m posting from Univ, and there is more to come)

Dogging through corridors, Nosirin and his attendants moved through the damaged corridors of the doomed star-ship. This wasn’t the first time that the Acharn had been destroyed, nor would it be the last, and Nosirin wasn’t ready to die on this forsaken hunk of metal. Less than a minute later, he reached his destination, a special command shuttle that would take him from the Acharn to the Azure-wrath, another warship of the fleet. He saw the missile launches and immediately radioed into his com-unit, “Fire anti-missiles, full spread, load rotation cylinders, four anti-missiles, four fighter strikes and twelve SRAS missiles.”

Seconds after the order was given, missiles streaked out from the damaged hulk of the Acharn, and the other warships in the fleet. Flying directly into the missile clouds, the Temporary Gravity-Flux warheads exploded in a visible warping of light and space. Each TGF warhead caused a miniature flux in gravity, a small sphere of space where gravity was intensely powerful, even pulling several of the large Thelasi warships towards the explosions.

But the real purpose of the anti-missiles was simple, to act as it’s name suggested and decimate the missiles before they reached the Point-Defense batteries of the Thelasi fleet. And indeed, the weapons served their purpose. Unlike shells, which use a split second burst of acceleration, and then coast towards their targets, missiles accelerate throughout their entire trip. The TGF equipped missiles capitalized upon this, redirecting the trajectory of the missile to miss the Thelasi fleet completely, or even smash into other missiles—something that wasn’t unlikely in the swarm of warheads.

Two of the missiles made it through the gravity disturbance—no counter measure system is completely perfect—and streaked towards the Thelasi ships. Several computer controlled gun batteries—firing shells no bigger than .50 caliber slugs—turned and targeted the warheads, sending up streams of fire. By sheer luck—and ‘deep penetration sensors’—one of the warheads made it through, impacting the Thelasi Dagor El Azurewrath.

As the smoke cleared from her hull, a truly terrible sight could be seen, a second layer of armor under the first layer of the Thelasi warship. The gapping wound was suddenly not so gapping, the hole blasted in the defenses of the Dagor El suddenly seeming to no be so crippling at all.

For a second, all fire stopped. Every gun in the Thelasi armada fell silent for a split second in time. Then resumed, somehow the shells seemed that much deadly, that much more efficient, the reason being, the Thelasi had broken out their new weapons: armor penetration warheads. Not the brute force weapons that they had been using, but special designs, made to blast right through enemy armor.

By using a secondary nuclear—shaped—charge in front of the primary charge, these new Thelasi weapons should be able to punch through the heavy armor of the Allanean warships, and directly damage the soft insides, where the radiation, shock-waves, and EMP blasts would do the most good.

In truth, the troops heading for Vinyaangmar were walking into a death-trap. The guns of the battle-station suddenly swerved and fired, their shells aimed by relentless computer programs. The Thelasi fired, knowing that any missed shells would simply blow up as they hit the outer layer of the atmosphere, their shielding not designed to protect against re-entry, and purposefully so. The radiation from the nuclear blasts would be absorbed by the atmosphere’s natural shielding, and would not harm the citizens of Vinyaangmar.

As said, it was a massacre. Fighters swept out from the battle-station, powerful torpedoes mounted under the wings of the fighters, their guns prepped for strafing and dog-fighting. They targeted the dropships, releasing their torpedoes first—in space—and then accelerating and strafing through the enemy formation. The large bombers—corvettes really, small flying fortresses—released their deadly payloads and then broke off to return to base, their interceptor escorts staying with them the length of the journey.

Yet even the entry into the atmosphere did not signal the end to the Thelasi assault on the transports, the fighters stuck with them, themselves entering the atmosphere, toning down the speeds on their mass-drivers as to not vaporize themselves as the shells hit the atmosphere. Smaller warheads, plasma warheads, were launched from self contained missile bays, The fighters still keeping up their strafing of the convoy.

And yet, when the troops dropped, they found the landscape harsh and set against them. Tall mountain ridges where their parachutes could rip and tear, sending them hurtling to their deaths, low valleys where they could be caught up. And then, the transports, slowing down to drop the troops found that missiles streaked up to meet them from the ground.

The troops who did manage to land found themselves quickly the targets of Thelasi gun-ships, flying low and fast through the valleys, firing salvos of swarming missiles, and strafing with mass-drivers.

And then, they found themselves under attack by Thelasi troops. Soldiers who had rushed out in their armored convoys of tanks, soldiers who took aim at the positions where the Allaneans hid, and bombarded them with weapons fire and tank shells, and then the troops who did find themselves in open ground were quickly set upon by Thelasi assault troops, elite Morchant Tirith who attacked in tanks and APCs, on foot, and in the air. The Thelasi were assured that the Allaneans would not gain a foot hold.

OOC: Again posting from Univ, more to come tomorrow

In orbit, above Vinyaangmar

The Thelasi shell went straight down the “barrel’ of the Turbulence Kolob-class vessel, impacting it on the main hull. The explosion ripped the ship into two, sending the two parts reeling and turning through space, as secondary explosions disintegrated them.

Then, two drone carriers were hit multiple times, simply evaporated by the nuclear explosions. The USS Beast of Burden ended up hit by debris from the multiple explosions. It tumbled through space, breaking up into multiple parts, spraying it’s internals, cargo, and escape pods all over the place. Then an engine blew.

Then, the USS Vermont was jerked slightly by the gravity distortions caused by the anti-missile weapons. Losing control, the massive cruiser was hit repeatedly by anti-ship shells, and slammed into a drone carrier. If there were an athmosphere, a terrible screech would be head as the twin Farad design folded under the huge impact mass. As it was, nobody ever heard the crew scream.

Five more shells hit the USS Atlas. Unlike the men on the Vermont, those aboard the cargo vessel did not suffer – they didn’t have enough time to.

Back down on re-entry, the Allanean assault force was getting butchered. A carrier was hit, and it spun it’s way into the sea, burning, carrying two thousand marines along with it. Dozens and hundreds of Ann Coulter Mark VII fighter-bombers scrambled to protect the landing fleet, but many still died. Dozens of dropships were incinerated, macabre shooting starts in the evening sky of Vinyaangmar.

And the Marines – and equally those valiant citizens that volunteered for the mission – were dying. Some three thousand died on descent. Some where cooked alive in their powered armour. Some died as their parachutes were torn apart and their bodies sped through the air with a terrible whistle. Some died as AA shells detonated within their body, splattering them to the ground like a red rain. Others where massacred on the ground. In total, five thousand Marines and five hundred civilian experts died.

Back aboard the USS Allanea, quick battle plans where drawn up. The High Admiral paced back and forth through the bridge, blurting out his order: “Send out an urgent message back home. We need five more battlegroups! We need the Stealth BattleGroup!”

“Sir, they’ll never grant that request!”

He screamed “I am having Marines dying here! I need all I can get! Tell them that!”

“Aye aye, sir!”

He shrugged. “Now let’s get to business. Get the Omnis into action. They have about thirty-five destroyers. The Omnis will tie them up real good.[/I]

Minutes later, thirty-seven Omni[i/]-class frigates detached themselves from the huge bodies of the Valiance-class dreadnaughts, accompanied by small squadrons of [I]Ann Coulter Mark VII fighter bombers – four hundred in total, and went towards the Thelasi destroyers. The Ann Coulter Mark VII is not a very manoevarble craft comparatively, but it can carry over twenty-five tons of weapons. Right now, they were loaded fully with light anti-ship missiles, and they unleashed them at the very same destroyers.

The Grand Admiral watched contentedly as the attack began. He smiled as he gave his second over.

‘Accounting for everything, do we still have at least one hundred Farad-capable ships available, not counting the fleet capital ships?’

‘Aye, Sir’.

‘Good. Tell them to pick the ten biggest Thelasi ships and fire their Farads at them. The destroyers are no-shoot targets for this one – let the Omnis handle them. As per the fleet capital ships – we fire at the battlestation. Those babies put out, what, ten gigatons each? With ten fleet capital ships firing at it, it should be fried, no?’

‘Excuse me, Sir? Their ships are unbelievably sturdy, so I wouldn’t be betting on it.’

‘That’s true. Still, it’s the best shot we’ve got. Charge the Farad Cannon!’

‘Charging, Sir!’

Fifteen seconds later, the world went green. If all that power were pointed at a single spot, it would destroy a planet, mused the High Admiral. What a pity it’s being wasted in a war.

‘Okay, now we just focus every turret and missile launcher we have on them. Take off the fighters.’

‘The fighters?’

‘They are gravitic fighters, they can just hang there in space. We just need their hardpoints’

‘Their hardpoints?’

‘Son, I want every weapon we have – including the flak cannons – firing at the Thelasi. Again, let the Omni take care of the destroyers. The Destroyers are no-shoot targets. Fire at will!’

The Thelasi Navy continued to return fire, several ship detonating throughout the fleet. Namirin, now sitting in the command chair of the Azurewrath, turned to his weapons officer, “Power up the Aiglos cannon, and target the enemy command ship. Destroy her. Also, stand by to launch all fighters, it looks like we have managed to take out their fighter support.” The weapons officer nodded, “Aye Sir…”

Huge blast doors began to open on the front of the Thelasi Dagor El, throughout the Thelasi ships it sounded like a thousand souls drawing breath, then, with a shudder, two beams lanced out from each of the Dagor El, one beam a particle, mater, beam, the other, anti-mater. Millimeters above the hulls of the Allanean ship, the beams crossed, the mater annihilating the anti-mater and releasing huge amounts of energy, more than a thousand nuclear shells.

From the large hanger bays of the Thelasi warships, fighter after fight and bomber after bomber, launched, heading straight at the enemy fleets. Within the bays of the bombers were torpedoes, more nuclear missiles, guided, and designed to target certain points in the Allanean ships. The fighters went in close and strafed, their mass-driver cannons ripping through fighter armor, and the armor of the weaker of the Allanean ships.

On the planet, the troops that did make it to the ground were encircled by Thelasi ground troops, and ordered to surrender, otherwise, they would be killed.

OOC: Part one of three,

The USS Allanea shuddered as it took the hit, sparks flowing through the greenish Xanthal-type shield system, crew thrown out of their seats, fighters toppled over. And while the ship was not seriously damaged, back in Allanea, Kazansky has made his decision.

Retreat now. Immediately

Several bright flashes later, and the ships disappeared, having retreated to Allanea. A few hours later a statement was issued:

Official Announcement of the United States of Allanea

We would like to stage an official meeting with the Thelasi representatives to discuss the future fate of Vinyaangmar.

At a signal, all the smaller vessels broke off, except for a group of seven destroyers, in addition to the destroyers already attached to the fleets. Admiral Miranth, the commander in charge of the Arcanum fleet, sat back in his chair,
“All fleet admirals, stand by, we are preparing to do a direct jump into the battle-site. Stand ready, the Arcanum will open the warp and then jump in, it will remain open while you move through, then we will close the rift. Jumping in five, four, three, two, one.”

As the generators engaged, the Thelasi crews felt like the very fabric of space and time was torn asunder, that even magic itself was changed within the very rip that the Arcanum had opened. But without hesitation, the warships moved through. Traveling through a plane where the very rules of physics, of magic, and of time, were warped, the Thelasi ships moved across sectors in a matter of milliseconds, they moved across inches as if they were kilometers, the crews felt like they were disassembled piece of piece, then re-assembled. But at the end of their journey, they came out whole, alive, and somehow the distortion balanced out.

Aboard the Thelasi ships were several devices that they hoped would balance out the battle, if it started again anti-FTL generators, mounted on buoys. These buoys would be deployed by the extra destroyers, and would prevent the Allaneans from escaping, or re-enforcements from arriving. Thelasi FTL inhibitors operated by preventing the ships from entering real-space, or other dimensions/planes/folding space and time/whatever might be used. Thus a fleet would be trapped in their dimension, and would be unable to enter real-space.

Force Commander Namirin sat back on the Azurewrath, watching the message come through, “Finally these Allaneans come to their senses… finally… Alright, send them this,

From: Thelasi Combined Army, Force Commander Namirin
To: Allanean government,

Very well, I would be happy to discuss peace arrangements between our two nations. You see, it was never my intent to have this little war to begin with, we have no need to such a resource draining conflict such as this. Very well, I will meet with an appropriately ranked representative of your government, I trust they will not waste my time.

Post Script: I would appreciate it if your diplomat came to the Azurewrath.”

Almost all at once, weapons fire ceased from the Thelasi warfleets. They continued to maneuver, regrouping and collecting themselves in case this was simply a false olive-branch, a ruse to get the Thelasi to lower their guard, the Empire would not be caught off guard that easily.

Back in Thelas, a group of four Force Commanders stood around a strategic map, showing them their assets, and the inserts showing tactical maps of battle-sites. Currently, the only insert active was the one labeled “Vinyaangmar”. Usually, the council would be composed of five Force Commanders, but Namirin, the leader, was currently deployed with his fleet against the Allaneans.

“This battle is consuming valuable resources…”
“Yes, but we cannot withdraw, we have too many resources already deployed on the planet, about half a million troops, to withdraw the fleets would mean the soldiers deaths at the hands of the Allanean marines, we can’t risk such a loss of resources…”
This time a woman spoke, “I hate your terming of our Morchant Tirith as mere resources… they are valuable and well trained troops, more than that, they are elves.”
“They are valuable resources that must be conserved… So what do you suggest?”
“Full mobilization of all assets, prepare for a full-scale counter-attack.”
“That will take many men… even nations such as Menelmacar have had a hard time doing that.”
“I do not mean an invasion…”
“You mean… exterminatus?” The female voice sounded shocked,
“Aye… full scale exterminatus. We hit every city with full-scale kinetic warheads, kick up enough dust to render the place desolate.”
“My god… they’re trying to negotiate peace.”
“It is the only way, we must ensure that they do not threaten us again”
Another voice, “We must make sure that we do not anger the international community… Haven is already destabilized enough as it is.”
“I doubt the international community would be too concerned…”
“Allanea will not be too missed.”
“Still, we should ask.”
“Indeed, we will communicate secretly. For now, I suggest mobilization of all assets.”
“Won’t they notice?”
“I doubt they have many spies within Thelas. Not to mention that they started this war, it is only proper that we continue to
“I agree. Will the Emperor have any issues?”
The cold male laughed, “I doubt it, the Emperor is no longer a factor, milady.”
“Hm… you have a point. Are we in concurrence?”
Two other “Aye”s echoed, and the female spoke again, “Very well then, I will issue the orders for full mobilization. I will also have plans drawn up for a full scale exterminatus strike, but we will wait to implement our plans untill we see what the Allanean government wants, we don't want to appear like we are the dishonourable ones."
“Dismissed”

Throughout bases across the empire, soldiers, be they Morchant Tirith or naval officers rushed to their training and embarkation areas. In the past they had been trained for such an emergency, and today the steps, protocols, and plans that had existed since the formation of the Thelasi Star Navy began to swing into action. It would take weeks for the transports to be assembled and pulled out of mothball, and it would take even more time for the equipment that the soldiers needed to be loaded, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Even in space the hustle and bustle was apparent, vessels long powered down began to come back online, huge energy reactors—some from the old C’tan construction period—began to thrum to life, the ships ‘veins’ coursing with the energy that was the blood of the many vessels in the Thelasi military.

To say that each ship was alive would not have been such a stretch of the imagination, each ship had many little cells, each capable of acting, if not surviving, on their own. They had brains, composed of more little cells, each specialized in their own areas, and they had muscle, huge gravity generators and fusion torches to move them, and massive cannons to defend them. The latter would see a lot of action.

In other parts of the Delos area, sections of the giant ring long unused, yet guarded, began to power-up. The Thelasi Strategic Strike and Response Center, or SSRC, the command center for all of Thelas’ city killer, and in some cases, planet killer weapons.

There, maps were being set out, and system checked, resources inventoried, and threats analyzed, but the most important part, the designation of targets. Cities, factories, even houses were all marked, although it was understood that many civilians would die, these officers were the most loyal in the Thelasi military, loyal not to the Emperor, but to the nation, for these select group of soldiers held the power to kill millions.

Solos Ciranach looked out from a small lodge of sorts on the rear slope of the mountain which housed the capital. A tall chimney stabbed up from the mines below, and the lodge existed on a questionably secure terrace on the hill. He sat in a deck chair on the slope and cheerfully lit a pipe, watching the light show up above with mild interest, blowing clouds of smoke. "Humm, well this is all very interesting. Ho ho there goes a big one..."

His feet up on a low table sporting a pile of wrappings from recently acquired nicnaks, scuffed and worn climbing boots having managed to crush a dozen old floppy disks, the retired miner carried on watching the ongoing shambles. He could see airdropping troops being run down and killed by fighters, and those farcical Thelasi convoys moving this way and that like so many angry black beetles. It was quite, quite ridiculous.

"Herumor had style," he said, "Got to give the man that. He knew how to do gnawing nameless terror. These idiot elves," he hacked and coughed for a moment and spat a piece of tobacco out, "are pretty much just a bunch of morons with high technology and no style whatsoeever - YA HEAR ME YOU SHOWER OF BASTARDS!" he shouted in the direction of the nearest - distant - convoy of the invaders.

He sniffed the air, wondering if perhaps he had left something on in the kitchen he had just come out of, and looked up at the chimney. From its broken crest a trail of smoke came. "Well now," he said, "That is weird... I wonder who could be using the old forge..."

----

In Nuach Carn Dûm itself, reactions to the latest Thelasi initiative were many and varied, the great majority of the sick of course, welcomed them, as the chaos from the Thelasi invasion had caused a great deal of hospitals and doctors to be either crucially short of supplies or manpower.

Of course, the well had more opinions on the matter, as could be expected, the endless cavalcade of images of happy children and old people seemed to be a source of no end of annoyance among many segments of the community, not least those who stood little to gain from Thelasi efforts. Adults up to middle age mostly found these efforts annoying, and were none too polite in telling the Thelasi to sod off, usually with some more colourful expletives added.

In a bunker in Allanea

Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky, President of the United States of Allanea, looked at the report with mild curiosity. ‘Wait a second, here,’ – he looked at the tactical map. ‘They are not letting our ships out, are they?’

‘No, Mr. President, the FTL-blocking hardware is precluding…’

‘I see. Here’s what we do. The battlegroups that we tried to get there – they are supposedly still in hyperspace, is that essentially correct?’

‘Yes, Mr. President.’

‘Get them into Allanean orbit and keep them in jump readiness, prepared to jump into orbit of the Thelasi homeworld – just in case.’

‘Are you planning a strike against their civilian assets?’

‘Only as a Mexican-standoff type of thing. And to the same air, get the National Defense Shields ready, just in case.”

‘But Mr. President! It will still leave hundreds of millions defenseless!’

“Indeed. It’s the best we can do, though. Now, for our letter.

From: Alexander Kazansky, President for Life of the United States
To: Emperor Nosirin
CC: Various media assets

My dear friend!

I again wish to make it clear for you that we do not want Vinyaangmar for ourselves… nor do we need it for anything. If indeed you wish for the welfare of the people of Vinyaangmar – and not for some selfish benefit of your own. – then you will agree to my offer.

I believe that the people of Vinyaangmar are mature adults, capable of guiding their own fate. The fate of their people should not – and will not, regardless of what decisions you and I will make – be decided by the plasma bolt, the bullet, or the blade, but rather by the noble competititon of ideas and words.

I propose that Thelas and the United States will immediately withdraw their forces, to be replaced by a joint Allanean-Thelasi Peace Enforcement Task Force under your overall guidance and command. The role of the Task Force will be merely to conserve basic peace throughout the next one hundred days. At the end of that time period, a series of referenda will be held in the various provinces or districts of Vinyaangmar, concerning the fate of each district or province. Each of them will be given a choice between independence or Thelasi rule or whatever other choices the Vinyaangmari will wish us to put on the ballot. Each district will have it’s own separate choice – just as envisioned by the great political minds of Jefferson, Patrick Henry, and others.
In the meanhile, our mutual goal should be the location and due capture of Herumor. I suggest offering a joint reward for his head.

Sincerely yours,
Alexander Kazansky,
President for Life, United States of Allanea

From: Force Commander Namirin
To: President for Life Kazansky

I would greatly appreciate it if you would please stop CCing this to major media outlets, I feel as if I cannot speak freely without risking some foolish reporter twisting our words into serpents of deceit. Now, on to your offer.

As it stands, it is disagreeable to the Empire. But we offer a counter: you withdraw all your forces and stand down your military. Then, you will promptly begin payments to the Thelasi Star Empire, of an amount of three trillion Allanean Dollars. Now, I know that this agreement might be a little disagreeable to you and your government, but I may remind you that the Empire is currently poised to attack Allanea’s homeland, and that in a full scale war, we would show no restraint.

Though the Empire is certainly interested in more negotiations on this subject, and would like to hear your input on this matter.

Yours truly,
Force Commander Namirin

Once again, in orbit of the Axaran system, warships of all shapes and sizes floated away from fleet service bases from Delos to Axara itself. Most of the ships were still being armed and loaded as they traveled to their positions hiding in the asteroid sphere, but the commanders knew that it would take a little while longer for the Allaneans to realize what was happening, and then it would take longer for them to figure out that they could not jump directly into Thelas.

In the mean time, over Vinyaangmar, the reinforcement Thelasi fleets began to position themselves between the Allanean fleet and the planet, sandwiching them between the three forces. The primary unit that was “surrounded” by the Allaneans, the ships that had closed from the moon, and now the Ninth Generation fleet, and two Seventh Generation units.

After sending off the message, Namirin leaned back in his chair, wishing he was aboard the huge Battle-Destroyer that was the flagship of the twelfth fleet, somehow he didn’t feel completely safe. The Thelasi ships had used the brief intermission to begin repairs to the damaged systems, moving more shells into the turrets, using scanners to analyze the Allanean ships, and so on.

Fighter squadrons dangerously low on ammunition and fuel returned to their command ships to be re-armed and re-fueled. They waited in their armored docking bays, not launching until the battle broke out again.

Planet-side, things went normally, somewhat, as normal as a forming occupation could be. One thing was slightly abnormal: in recently secured bases, transports began arriving from the orbital, and within them, fighters. Thelasi fighters, fighter-bombers and tactical bombers, all with ammunition and pilots were all stored on the landing fields, and in bunkers that were under construction. Now, the Thelasi commanders knew that the fields would be promising targets for the rebels, thus, the Thelasi troops guarded the airfields well, pill-boxes, sentries, anti-tank rifles to take out approaching car-bombs and other such threats.

These fighters and bombers were prepped and loaded with torpedoes and other anti cap-ship weapons. If was positive in the mind of the Thelasi that if the Allaneans didn’t agree, they would regret it.

bump

Official Response of Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky, President of Allanea
To:Commander Namirin
CC:Every imaginable media source

Dear friend!

A government official is nothing but a servant of The People. As such, I strive to infrom my employers of major actions I take.

I would like you to allow me to withdraw my troops. Then we talk about everything else.

To: Alexander Kazanksy
From: FC Namirin
CC: No one, as the past several messages have been

Good friend,

I cannot allow your forces to withdraw, until I get a yes or no response from your government. You see, I am in somewhat of a jam. As I see it, the second I let you withdraw your troops, you will re-group and begin the war anew. Now, if your men surrendered, they would be returned to Allanea along with personal possessions they might have.

End

As if to emphasize Namirin’s point, the three new fleets took up holding positions, magnetic screens raised, and weapons loaded. The fighters waited patiently in their docking bays, and gunnery commanders sat anxiously in front of their consoles, waiting for the order to re-commence firing on the Allanean fleet. The crews had no doubt that the order would come.

In Thelas, preparations continued as the fleets arrived at their stations, hidden deep within the asteroid belt. The commanders at Delos watched their screens and waited for the Allanean fleets to begin their movements, plans forming on the massive displays around them.

In a bunker in Allanea

“Apparently, then, Namirin is an even bigger fool than his predecessor. He did not understand that we have no need to conquer this land, yet mistook this for a weakness of ours.” – Kazansky began explaining to a group of generals -. “I suspect he judges us by his own standard. I think we could use it to our benefit diplomatically…”

He paused. “…but right now we have different problems. Apparently, FTL drones launched towards the Thelasi homeworld report they are protecting it by FTL blocking hardware – same as preventing our forces from leaving. I believe this precludes us from launching any strategic attacks – same as our National Shield System will protect most our Earth possessions. This reduces us to tactical-level mischief.”

He paused againm, surveying the High Command. “Grand Admiral Gigenberry here is the commander of the task force that will now transport itself as near as possible to Vinyaangmar via FTL, then proceed to combat zone at tactical speed. It will be a force of ten full battlegroups, and also the Stealth BattleGroup”

There was a moment of shocked. This would mean the Battle of Vinyangmar now would include about 400 Allanean ships, two-thirds of the United States Military.

“Yes,” said the United States President. “It’s lots of force. We must make this END.”

In orbit above Vinyaangmar

“Okay, people. Here is the deal We have a slight superiority in numbers. They are superior in position. Here’sh how we solve this riddle…”

From the large Valiance-class capital vessels, frigates detached again, about forty in number. Frigates accompanied them – twenty in each battlegroup. Those, about 240 in number, went out to engage the Thelasi. Fighters, gunships by the hundreds accompanied them to hold off the enemy. In the meanwhile, another order was given

Just as back in Allanea the battlegroups entered hyperdrive, every main cannon in the Vinyaangmar Task Force lit up with an eerie green light. Then, they fired at the battlestation all at once, with enough energy to depopulate the planet.

Then, they fired up their turreted weapons, strafing the Thelasi vessels in their midst with every spare megawatt of power they had. They had superority in numbers and firepower, and they would make the most of it.

The station wasn’t vaporized, it wasn’t annihilated, merely, one third—an entire castle—was blown away into space. From that section swarmed fighters and bombers, it was as if the Allaneans had suddenly stuck their hands into a very large, very angry beehive. From the two remaining sections swarmed more fighters, their black hulls laden with deadly stingers, their torpedoes, missiles, and guns.

The Thelasi forces didn’t wait for the Allaneans to reload, but instead, in a massive barrage, fired every cannon, missile and torpedo they had. Flashes filled space as energy from the gravity-drivers released and transformed into light and heat energy, and great groans filled the Thelasi ships as their structural frames were stressed to the max by the full firing of all their weapons.

Weapons far deadlier than simple nuclear warheads were employed: the Aiglos cannons aboard the Dagor El warships, and the four Aiglos cannons aboard the Battle-Destroyer. Each of these columns of mater/anti-mater were targeted at the largest of the Allanean warships, the giga-tons that would be released when the two beams of matter and antimatter met each other centimeters from the hull of their target.

Fighters swarmed out of the Thelasi warships’ docking bays. Hundreds, if not thousands, of fighters swarmed into the Allanean fleets, burning their engines at full power, they mixed in with the Allanean ships. Thelasi fleet-ships did the same. Activating their gravity drives, the warships distorted space and time around them, creating a surreal warping effect around the Thelasi ships, flying into the mix of the Allanean ships.

Thelasi captains had long trained for this type of combat, close in, ship to ship battles. No great strategy, no great plans and designs, just hundreds of small one on one battles between the super-ships of the two fleets. Here, the Thelasi had an advantage, the larger Thelasi ships, with their heavier armaments and thicker armor, had a natural ‘leg-up’ on the Cap Corp built ships.

These battles could easily be paralleled to the ancient battles between the tall-ships of the eighteen hundreds. The ships would bludgeon each other, their crews shoveling round after round into the hungry maws of their cannons, until one suffered irreparable damage, and the other would emerge the victor.

Some Thelasi ships engaged two Allanean vessels at once, using the large rotating turrets to bring the massive gravity-drivers to bear on their enemies, lobbing the armor-piercing shells with deadly accuracy.

After each shell hit, the Electronic Awareness programs on the Thelasi ships would recomputed the targeting co-ordinates for their firing, constantly shifting the flight paths to target the weakest points in the Allanean armor; as soon as one warship found a weak-point, the other ships would instantly change their attack patterns, fighters would turn in arcs that seemingly defied physics to unleash their torpedoes on this new weak-point, and captains would maneuver their ships to bring the most guns to bear on their targets.

Namirin watched the screens intently. Indeed, at this close range, there were few targets for the Aiglos cannons, but the Thelasi fleet only had a couple Aiglos weapons, while, on the other hand, it felt like every Allanean ship larger than a frigate had a Farad cannon. Thus, this measure was necessary, at the close range, Namirin knew that his captains had more training in this combat, he knew that the Morchant Tirith aboard the ships felt more useful, standing by to board any weakened Allanean ships.

Truly, he had to wait, it wouldn’t be that long until the Thelasi launched their other little strike. This strike would hopefully cause Allanea to reconsider their entry into this little war. Then again, wasn’t Namirin pleased? This was his chance to shine, to lead the Thelasi to victory. Time to launch stage two.

From the planet, the fighters that had recently landed—most of them having just been armed and fueled—began to take off. Torpedoes and missiles stored in under-wing bays, the pilots pushed their engines to the max, the small craft rocketing out of the atmosphere and towards space. A sight to see for any young children in Vinyaangmar, gleaming black birds, resembling great predators as their pilots began to assess their way-points and targets.

The planet-launched fighters and bombers were after the remaining command ships of the Allanean fleet, those not destroyed by the Aiglos cannons, they were to go directly after the weakest points, the AI systems programmed to create maps to lead the pilots on a perfect course after the Allanean ships. Finally, were the pilots themselves. They were ordered to “destroy targets and attack any ToPs (Targets of Opportunity) available”.

Leaning back in his seat, Namirin closed his eyes, letting all the data from his DNI flow into him. Seconds later, the huge giga-ton cannons on the Battle-Destroyer and the two remaining thirds of the orbital slowly swivled to face their targets, the largest of the remaining Allanean ships. With shuddering blasts, the cannons fired.

In Thelas, six battle-cruisers slowly slipped away from their moorings in the comet shield around the system. After leaving the relative safety, they quietly slipped into a clearing within the FTL-Inhibitor fields, and then jumped to the Solarian system. The battle-cruisers were raiders. Designed to operate independently from support, and to raid the enemy, these ships captains distilled their mission statements to this ‘make life hell’.

They would do that.

They had a carte-blanche to attack any Allanean ships they chose—with the one exception being civilian passenger transports. They would attack cargo vessels, military transports, they would board and seize the funds and equipment from Allanean liners, of course avoiding other nations citizens.

Several other ships slowly snuck away from Thelas, these vessels were “wolves” designed to look exactly like cargo ships. When they neared an Allanean target, they would reveal their weapons, and open fire. After destroying the ship, they would retract their guns and disappear back into the space lanes.

OOC: Look Allanea, either post or this war RP ends.... I really don't have the luxury of having my entire space-navy tied up in an RP that is going nowhere.

OOC: Look Allanea, either post or this war RP ends.... I really don't have the luxury of having my entire space-navy tied up in an RP that is going nowhere.

Thelas: Either post losses or I can't post. Though again I repeat my proposition: Allanea will pay money if it goes to rebuilding VA and we can see where it goes.

OOC: Well, this is very interesting. Busy elsewhere, so tagged for now.

Thelas: Either post losses or I can't post. Though again I repeat my proposition: Allanea will pay money if it goes to rebuilding VA and we can see where it goes.

OOC: I have posted losses "The station wasn’t vaporized, it wasn’t annihilated, merely, one third—an entire castle—was blown away into space." Last check you shot all your weapons at the station, and a force moved to engage.

OOC: I have posted losses "The station wasn’t vaporized, it wasn’t annihilated, merely, one third—an entire castle—was blown away into space." Last check you shot all your weapons at the station, and a force moved to engage.

So how about the three trillion per year, on condition money goes to rebuilding VA?

So how about the three trillion per year, on condition money goes to rebuilding VA?

OOC: This isn't an OOC war, this is an IC war. OOCly I would be happy to say yes, ICly, "Over our dead bodies"

And quit stalling ;-P

Leaning back in his chair, watching the battle unfold in space, Namirin knew that high command was tiring of this little war, and that the Allaneans were trying to escape. Well, he had taught them their lesson, and he figured that they wouldn’t be bothering the Star Empire any time soon.

“Fleet control, lower the anti-hyperspace shields and order our craft to cease overtly hostile actions against the Allanean aggressor force. We have taught them their lesson for the day, and it is time for us to claim our well deserved victory.”

The male voice of the Battle-Destroyer’s AI filtered through the loud-speakers, “It is done, Force Commander, the Allanean ships will be allowed to escape. Should I issue the announcement of our victory back to Axarra? And cancel the full mobilization?”

“No Fleet Control, I want all of our systems on full alert, just in case the Allanean president changes his mind. TMI reports that he is more than a little unstable.”

“Yes Sir.”

*****************************************************

Planet side, the Thelasi began to engage their operation in earnest, starting to ‘clean’ the cities of the Vinyaangmari resistance groups. To do this, the troops began to search the military bases and supply areas where the old Vinyaangmari army had stored their weapons and equipment.

Prowling through the wreckage, looking for shreds of documents that could be pieced together by the computers, looking through hard-disks for data that might be recoverable through the use of Electronic Awareness programs operated by Thelasi Military Intelligence, the Thelasi Military Intelligence searched for any shred of evidence on the names and locations of former government members.

Older methods, far be it for the Intelligence officers to overlook anything, such as personal interviews with pay officers and other officials, were employed. Even more than that, not all the records were destroyed, or some were only destroyed partially, due to the lack of time between the invasion, and securing the government buildings.

Once these records were employed, the Thelasi began searching through other records, drivers licenses, passports, discarded ID cards, police records, anything that would give the Thelasi occupying force a face—or finger-print—to attach to the names, birth-dates, and other personal information, that they had collected.

The pictures, names, and possible descriptions were uploaded onto the patrolling bots that moved around the major cities. The Thelasi weren’t so much trying to apprehend these people, as much as they were trying to locate them, and then have the network of agents, and machines that they were employing keep track, using highly advanced facial recognition software to ID the marked people.

Other EAs spent time analyzing the actions, and spotted locations of people, corresponding to attack sites. The computers would tag any being that spent too much time around where an attack took place—especially if they were seen entering a building that soon after was destroyed—and the rest of the recordings would then be searched for further appearances. After that, the computers would track any acquaintances of the target, searching through millions, billions even, of video transmission from probes to match these people, slowly building webs of data.

Soon after, other steps were imposed to help track suspected rebels. The phone companies, now revitalized by the Thelasi occupying government, were required to quietly transmit all phone records to the Thelasi government, stored in the massive computer banks that had been set up on the remains of the Thelasi station. There had been a major set-back with the station destroyed, but nothing had been irrevocably lost, the computers were backed up on the other two platforms.

Also on the planet, small holocameras were being placed on certain light-posts, these small, disposable, cameras with their small—yet powerful—transmitters didn’t actually record more than six hours, but they constantly transmitted back to Thelasi government centers—fortresses really—that were being set up in each major city.

Knowing that the rebels might have access to radioactive materials, the Thelasi deployed yet another piece of futuristic technology. Massively powerful radiation-detectors were equipped on special drop-ship groups that flew low over the country side, searching for radiation levels even slightly above normal. Then, the ships would land, and the soldiers, decked out in their full battle armor to protect them from the radiation, would secure the area, and then disposal units would arrive to reclaim the bombs.

Smaller, unmanned, probes flew low, through valleys and even through small caves, using magnetic sensors to look for the metal in the shell casings and contains that would hold the contraband material.

All these efforts were mounted from the rapidly growing “government centers” located in even city. Built near complexes of government buildings, the Thelasi would level un-needed buildings to make space for landing pads designed to service and unload their transports, and dig deep bunkers to house troops and workers.

Yet always, the Thelasi made an effort to avoid the old fortresses—at least those in the cities—fearing, and justly, that the former centers were trapped, but eventually they would have to clean out these forbidding areas.

To do exactly that, the Thelasi deployed small spider-bots, honestly no bigger than a real spider, which crawled through the facility, covertly searching for hidden traps and devices. Controlled by operators in orbit, the data was fed into computers to create life-like three-dimensional maps which the Thelasi would use when the real soldiers—or attack bots—penetrated the facilities and secured the area.

The attack bots were used all around Vinyaangmar in areas where the Thelasi felt that it would be too dangerous for actual soldiers to be deployed, no matter what is said, the Thelasi commanders cared for, and attempted to preserve, the lives of their troops. To elaborate on the attack bots, they really weren’t designed for large scale, conventional combat. Instead, they were made to be used against rebellions exactly like this one, small terrorist actions meant to scare and force a retreat from the Thelasi.

The robots were armed with four HSECs (High Speed Energy Cannons), two high power Rail-Guns which could be loaded with Material Piercing, and Non-Penetrating rounds (the first could punch through most armor and even house walls to scatter deadly shrapnel inside the target area, the second had a smaller blast that would send lower-speed projectiles flying about in case of a delicate situation) and one Anti-Armor Rail-Gun to disable vehicles.

For defense the hovering attack-drones merely used an upgraded version of the armor which the Thelasi infantry carried, and, like the patrol drones, a smaller, weaker, version of the shield employed by Thelasi Capital ships, fighters, tanks, and even the Tirn.

The patrols continued to move forward, the troops employing more of these remote spider bots, controlled directly through their uniforms. In cases where a really dangerous area was concerned—the Thelasi kept track of attempted attacks in the areas—three patrols would be banded together, and assigned a Mobile Tactical Command Unit, or MTCU. The MTCU had the ability to store and deploy four attack drones, along with the spiders which were rapidly becoming part of a squad’s standard equipment—the heavy weapons officer would often carry two of three spiders.

The Thelasi troops were content to let the rebels have the areas outside the cities, for now. It was of no concern if they went into hiding, the Thelasi had measures to smoke them out—from long range scanners, to thermal imaging, to magnetic scanners, to high-speed over-flights. What was more concerning were the cities, without stability in the cities, it would be a hell of a time to secure the entire country.

But they also recognized that they could not simply secure the country through strength of arms alone. Already, merely weeks after the ‘defeat’ of the Vinyaangmari government, contractors were already being called in to modernize many industries, from food production to medical care. With the military clinics established, the contractors did have some time to modernize—and in some cases to actually set up—the hospital structure that the Thelasi believed would be one of the greatest challenges facing the people.

Next up was trying to get this nation up and running, trying to supply food, at least until the nation was up and running and producing its own resources. Large cargo transports began to load up in Thelas, carrying much needed civilian supplies: food, medicine, and other goods, which would be distributed among suppliers and the consumers themselves.

Planet side, the Thelasi began to engage their operation in earnest, starting to ‘clean’ the cities of the Vinyaangmari resistance groups. To do this, the troops began to search the military bases and supply areas where the old Vinyaangmari army had stored their weapons and equipment.

Prowling through the wreckage, looking for shreds of documents that could be pieced together by the computers, looking through hard-disks for data that might be recoverable
Unlikely. I never imagined Vinyaangmar's bureacracy as very IT savvy.
through the use of Electronic Awareness programs operated by Thelasi Military Intelligence, the Thelasi Military Intelligence searched for any shred of evidence on the names and locations of former government members.
May I suggest looking through the newspapers and telephone books? Though of course, as you've promised that the same former government members were going to be allowed to stand for election...
Older methods, far be it for the Intelligence officers to overlook anything, such as personal interviews with pay officers and other officials, were employed. Even more than that, not all the records were destroyed, or some were only destroyed partially, due to the lack of time between the invasion, and securing the government buildings.

Once these records were employed, the Thelasi began searching through other records, drivers licenses,
Central archives generally don't have copies of the photos AFAIK. And even so, they've been fairly comprehensively trashed. It's been days. You're not going to get useable data in days.
passports,
Ultra rare
discarded ID cards,
No such thing
police records,
The police have all upped sticks and gone. I wouldn't think that their records are in good order still. What with the total anarchy.
anything that would give the Thelasi occupying force a face—or finger-print—to attach to the names, birth-dates, and other personal information, that they had collected.

Soon after, other steps were imposed to help track suspected rebels. The phone companies, now revitalized by the Thelasi occupying government,
What do you mean, revitalized? The phone network was never down.
were required to quietly transmit all phone records to the Thelasi government,
Good to see you assuming total compliance.
stored in the massive computer banks that had been set up on the remains of the Thelasi station. There had been a major set-back with the station destroyed, but nothing had been irrevocably lost, the computers were backed up on the other two platforms.
Knowing that the rebels might have access to radioactive materials, the Thelasi deployed yet another piece of futuristic technology. Massively powerful radiation-detectors were equipped on special drop-ship groups that flew low over the country side, searching for radiation levels even slightly above normal. Then, the ships would land, and the soldiers, decked out in their full battle armor to protect them from the radiation, would secure the area, and then disposal units would arrive to reclaim the bombs.

Eighty percent of the bombs at least are simply dismantled. More of a waste of effort while everything outside the thelasi centres is in anarchy

To do exactly that, the Thelasi deployed small spider-bots, honestly no bigger than a real spider, which crawled through the facility, covertly searching for hidden traps and devices.

Again, these are going to be dispatched easily. Assuming of course, that the undead haven't simply brought down the rooves in the areas these things are going to have to come in through.

But they also recognized that they could not simply secure the country through strength of arms alone. Already, merely weeks after the ‘defeat’ of the Excuse me. Days. It has been days. At most. I have plans for what they're doing in the next few days.
Vinyaangmari government, contractors were already being called in to modernize many industries, from food production to medical care. With the military clinics established, the contractors did have some time to modernize—and in some cases to actually set up—the hospital structure that the Thelasi believed would be one of the greatest challenges facing the people.
This assumes of course, that Vinyaangmar lacked a working hospital service, which again, unless you bombed it, it didn't.
Next up was trying to get this nation up and running, trying to supply food, at least until the nation was up and running and producing its own resources.
Again, apart from the wide-scale brigandry thanks to the collapse of public order, they're really quite capable of that on their own. While Herumor was evil he was also effective.
Large cargo transports began to load up in Thelas, carrying much needed civilian supplies: food, medicine, and other goods, which would be distributed among suppliers and the consumers themselves.

In the roots of the mountain, at the deepest delvings, all had been prepared. Far below the city of Nuach-Carn-Dum high above, the wraiths waited, knowing that their time had come, one way or another, they would begin to unravel as their master moved further away and the dark craft that created them passed away.

They were three, in this deep, low pit. The smoke that filled the upper levels wasn’t here, but an omnipresent dust was. They looked at a large, metallic object before them. Its liquid crystal display illuminating five distinctive characters through the darkness.

01:00

One of the wraiths reached forward, flaming torch in its other hand, and flicked a red cap on the side of the cylinder, and then a switch on its side. The display changed.

00:59

The seconds passed slowly, even to the flawless undead perception of time. At fifty seconds, moving parts within the bomb began to activate, aligning the complex pieces of the uranium core.

Microseconds after zero, the wraiths felt merciful oblivion grasp them, and the blast of the bomb ripped out into the caverns. For a precarious moment, it seemed as if nothing would happen, as if the rock, blasted and vapourised, would hold, and turn the mountain into a massive nuclear retarc. But it was not to be. The structure of the tunnel network within the mountain imploded, blasting huge geysers of super-heated air high into the sky.

And with it came the city. The ground fell, and the city built upon it fell. Towers and walls collapsed instantly, every building fell, even those that were most resistant to earthquakes. What had been, moments ago, shaking tarmac roads and rocky surfaces, even gardens became a liquid-like landslide, flowing across the mountain freely.

Even the buildings the Thelasi had co-opted and the mighty Citadel were defenceless against the massive earthquake, though some parts of the Citadel managed to stand still as a great black winged shape passing from it like a shadow of doom. It could fly and was at last free, those below it could not.

The dust rose, and obscured what had once been the city of Nuach-Carn-Dum, where once, men had lived. And soon, its fellows would follow.

And thus, the Allaneans left Vinyaangmar. Delaying only to pick up wounded and surviving Marines from Vinyaangmar, the Allanean fleet left the skies of the nation, leaving the Thelasi and Vinyaangmari to settle their business as they saw fit.

All hell broke loose as screams filled the radio frequencies, soldeirs who were within running distance from the transports began to make their way towards the craft as more and more soldiers began to grab equipment and follow the ‘Red Screen’ order from high command, a general quarters emergency command telling all Thelasi troops to get the hell out of wherever they were.

Loaded transports began to scramble off of their pads, as craft which were coming down from orbit pulled up into a high orbit. At the airfields, fighters and dropships began to scramble off of station. Grav tanks began to kick up dust as they rose higher than their standard operating areas, in some kinds above the roof levels of some of the buildings, simply trying to get distance between the ground, and their hulls.

In the capital, the remnants were in chaos, troops who had survived began to slowly pull themselves together, checking their armor for breaches in the survival mechanisms. Some were buried under tons of rock, others, those who had been near the top, were in odd positions, some with broken arms and legs, some with serious concussion damage, almost miraculously, none of the surviving troops had breaches in the survival part of their armor, the plating was cracked, shattered, or otherwise punctured, but had served to keep the anti-radiation systems and life support systems intact.

But the functionality of the armor would not protect many of the troops, already, death tolls were climbing into the thousands, telemetry units in the suits reporting back to command when their occupants died. As more bombs exploded in other cities, the ground melting and crumbling away under the feet of the Thelasi troops, the death tolls continued to rise, many soldiers finding their way to some sort of safe area, a Grav-tank, a dropship, a transport, but just as many being caught out in the open.

By the end of the day, tens of thousands of Thelasi troops had died, and many more soldiers were severely wounded, millions of civilians had died, and the nation of Vinyaangmar had pretty much been wiped off of the map, at least, as a major population area.

From orbit, the change was noticeable, whole mountains appeared to crumble into dust, large patches were cities used to be were jumbles of metal, and areas that once gave off brilliant light into outer space were suddenly eerily dark. These changes did not escape Namirin, even if he had been able to ignore the casualty reports that were flooding into his office.

Turning to one of his officers, he sighed, “Chemirath?”
“Sir?”
“Tell me… why would some one do this?”
“Scorched earth sir, to prevent us from getting anything, and to hurt us.”
“Well, he did both quite nicely. Over ninety thousand direct casualties, and millions of civilian deaths, practically the entire nation.”
“yes sir…”
“Our job is done here, recall the strike units that are still planet side, inform High Command that I am handing over command of Vinyaangmar to the Internal Ministry”
“Yes Sir. Should I issue orders to prepare for fleet withdrawal?”
“Partially, have two fleets remain in orbit. Every one else will head back to Thelas, damn this has been a screwed up operation.”
The normally stiff Thelasi Force Commander leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on his desk,
“First the Allaneans provoke us into war. Then they retreat without accomplishing anything meaningful except getting thrashed by our fleets, then Herumor detonates these bombs underneath the cities. We’ve been successful, we’ve driven out the Mouth of Sauron, and we have ‘secured’ the area, but it still leaves a bad taste. Chemirath, you get that feeling?”
“Yes Sir, I do. So many of our people dead.”
“Aye, and we have the Allaneans to thank. If they hadn’t gotten involved, we could have concentrated on the rebels, and prevented this travesty.”
“You think they intended it?”
“I don’t know, but if they did, they better pray and hope that the rest of the Council doesn’t figure it out. Because, if they do, Allanea will be in just as bad a state as Vinyaangmar, worse even.”
“Isn’t that the truth.”