NationStates Jolt Archive

[OOC: Continued from the Return of Nanakaland (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=370315). Paralleled with Nanakaland's Third Age - Road to Division (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=380745).]

[OOC 2: This is a new idea - dualthread. This thread starts as The Return of the Underground, a strictly closed RP. It might not even last a page, but is very important for the advancement of a plot (and that's why it's not worthy of a separate thread).The second thread is The Underground Goes International, which is a less closed thread in which you must sign up in the OOC thread (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=382524). TAGs are strictly forbiddon - bookmark or subscribe to this thead.]

The Underground Goes International
The General sat at his computer and started typing a message.

To: All Rebellious Groups
From: The General
Re: The Underground Goes International

Hello and thank you for expressing interest in the Underground. I will be holding a meeting in an abandoned village in the Nanakan Desert next Monday at 0200 hours. You have three days to sneak a representative into Nanakaland if you are interested. We have a private airport in the village. All chosen rebellion groups shall join a new organization - the International Union of Underground Networks.

Unlike most groups, the International Union of Underground Networks (IUUN) will not be an alliance of national leaders. Instead, it shall be an alliance of those who want to be international leaders. The IUUN will support each other in attempts to gain control of different nations. In return, the supported nations will try to support the others at a later time. The only situations in which the IUUN may include national governments is if there is a successful revolution and the new government decides to continue to support the IUUN.

All interested in joining the IUUN shall pledge to support the other IUUN members in the case that they start an active revolution. Eventually, the IUUN will also include nations, but for now it is just the nation's Underground organizations. If interested and a rebellious group, then join the IUUN. Remember, alone you could be crushed, but together we can help us all gain power.

The General hit enter and smiled. It was done...

The Return of the Underground
Two Weeks Earlier
The Underground is a name that would have given fear to every inhabitant of Nanakaland if it wasn't virtually wiped out before any public news of it came out. Basically, Nanakaland (a March 2003 nation recently resurrected) was frozen by a mad scientist's experiment. They lived in secret and when a mysterious national leader called a "moderator" thawed out the ice cap that was once Nanakaland, the Underground thought that they had the right to rule all of Nanakaland. The Underground was defeated and many people thought that Smith was dead (even though the former president was still alive). The Underground did succeed in one thing - dividing Nanakaland, but that is another story (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=380745). This is what concerns the Underground, however.

The General's identity remained a mystery. No one was able to find any match on fingerprints or on any ID computer. Nanakan officials even tried international files. Well, on one search, there was one match. Mankana Gan, aka Agent Skull. However, that was discarded. Agent Skull had been killed for sure. He hadn't attempted to take over Nanakaland in a long time. Besides, there was a grave somewhere in Nanakaland for that old villain. Someone even dug it up and found a decomposing body in there. So, the General couldn't be him., many officials thought. Could he?

The General was in a maximum security prison in the heart of the Nanakan Highlands. It was escape-proof. It had former soldiers as guards. Impenitrable. Only the worst of the worst went there. The General was one of those and he was on death row. Because the death penalty was only used in rare cases like High Treason, death row moved fast. The General was set to be killed the next week.

The General was thought to be the last surviving member of the Underground, but there was one more living member, who was never suspected. The conspiracy theorist that had helped Nalonis was really a member, but the government had pardoned him thinking he was a former Underground member who helped the government. So, escape may have been more real of an option...

A security guard walked up to the General's cell and asked, "Are you the unidentified man on death row?"

"Why yes," the General replied. "Going to start my execution a week early?"

"No," the guard stated. "You're released. Some friend of yours hired a lawyer. Apparantly they found some obscure law where authorities have to have your name to be convicted. You're a free man."

The General grinned and said, "You'll be spared when the rest of the prison goes. Are you going to escort me out of this prison."

"Sure," said the guard. As soon as they both left the prison, alarms sounded. The General bumped into the guard who turned around. All of the prisoners were starting to attack the guards inside the prison complex. It was put under a lockdown. The guard that was with the General reached for his gun.

"I don't think so," the General said, holding the guard's gun. "I took it while you weren't paying attention. Oh and I said I'd spare you. If I were you I wouldn't go back into the prison." Just then, a big explosion rocked the area destroying the whole prison area. The General and the one prison guard, who were out on the road, were spared. The General continued, "Join my cause and I can work miracles. I know people at all levels of Nanakaland. I can pull off things like that."

Port Nanaka was full of warehouses. After all, it was a seaport. Many of these warehouses were abandoned for the summer because much of Nanakaland's exports were being shipped during this time instead of being filled up it a warehouse. It was a cycle. Warehouses gradually filled up in autumn, almost all were full in winter, in spring they started being emptied, and in summer most warehouses were abandoned until fall.

Nanakaland didn't really need to worry about crime levels. The mafia was stompped out. Organized crime was pretty much eliminated. The national descriptin itself said that, "Crime -- especially youth-related -- is totally unknown, thanks to the all-pervasive police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare." So nobody bothered to guard all of the abandoned warehouses. It would take too much police off the streets where they were needed. Crime wasn't big in Nanakaland, so no one suspected a meeting of criminals in Nanakaland.

However, there was a meeting of criminals. The General and his assistant - the only two Underground members left - were there. The former guard of the maximum security prison was there (had to go on the run because he would be a prime suspect in the explosion if it was found out that he was alive). There were two mobs in all of Nanakaland and they were falling apart, so about twenty criminals from there met. And there were fourty criminals who were all on the run so they decided to come there. Together, all of them formed the new Nanakaland Underground.

The Underground was back and no one knew it. Nanakaland authorities came close to discovering the Underground, so their meeting place changed from the abandoned warehouse to an abandoned village in the Nanakan Desert that hadn't been populated since the modernization of the nation.

After several days of fixing it up, it actually became a nice place. An old road that no one travelled led to civilization, so they were able to smuggle in supplies and weapons. The village had an old wall, so with some repair, the village became more defendable. An airstrip was put in place so that private airplanes could land in the village. The old town hall was restored and used as the meeting place. The Underground members who weren't suspected of being criminals lived elsewhere in Nanakaland and either drove or flew up to the village when there was a meeting. Those on the run lived in the village. Spy satellites wouldn't detect it because no one would suspect anyone trying to live in the Nanakan Desert.

Someone suggested to go international. At first, the General dismissed the idea, but then he started to like it. If the Underground went international, then others would help them if they helped the others. The more the General heard it, the better it sounded. The General sat at his computer and started typing a message.

To: All Rebellious Groups
From: The General
Re: The Underground Goes International

Hello and thank you for expressing interest in the Underground. I will be holding a meeting in an abandoned village in the Nanakan Desert next Monday at 0200 hours. You have three days to sneak a representative into Nanakaland if you are interested. We have a private airport in the village. All chosen rebellion groups shall join a new organization - the International Union of Underground Networks.

Unlike most groups, the International Union of Underground Networks (IUUN) will not be an alliance of national leaders. Instead, it shall be an alliance of those who want to be international leaders. The IUUN will support each other in attempts to gain control of different nations. In return, the supported nations will try to support the others at a later time. The only situations in which the IUUN may include national governments is if there is a successful revolution and the new government decides to continue to support the IUUN.

All interested in joining the IUUN shall pledge to support the other IUUN members in the case that they start an active revolution. Eventually, the IUUN will also include nations, but for now it is just the nation's Underground organizations. If interested and a rebellious group, then join the IUUN. Remember, alone you could be crushed, but together we can help us all gain power.

The General hit enter and smiled. It was done...

[OOC: Now it's The Underground Goes International. You can now sign up in the OOC thread (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=382524) and then (once approved) can RP your representative's arrival in Nanakaland. Once there is enough interest, the meeting shall be done.]

[EDIT: I'm not typing that fast. I'm copy-and-pasting the work of the past week from notepad. Now that the first part is done, it depends on other people joining (no more of me copy-and-pasting). Join in the OOC thread. (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=382524)]

The General sat and waited. They would come. Eventually, the supporters would come. All he needed to do was sit and wait... and wait... and wait. Once they started to arrive, more would here, more would join. A meeting would come - eventually...

Three citizens of Mirfak arrive in Nanakaland and begin arranging for transport to the Underground meeting place seperately.

Freedom Exterminated, Northern Jungle, Several weeks ago

Francis Tawonga moved slowly, his cheap knockoff of an assault rifle wet from the constant rain, his ebony skin glistening in the red light of the setting sun, darkened by the shadows of the jungle, its giant trees, its shades and thudding noises.

Holding it tightly, he cursed a little. He was close, so was the rest of his group. Yet, he couldn't do anything, the village was lost. The forces of the government far to capable for him and his men to take on.

Well, we got a few of them, at least. Bastards. He couldn't really enjoy the thought, though, despite the wrecks of the two pickups, the corpses of the seven dogs of the president being visible from his position.

Instead, he had to watch the Colonel in the village. He had come after their initial plan had succeeded, with significant forces, almost fifty men. Far to many for Francis and his squad.

He couldn't really hear what the colonel said, or rather, screamed, the people in the village kept in check by his men. From what Francis could see, a few girls were missing, he wasn't sure if they were interrogated or just used as a pastime for the colonel's 'soldiers' (Not the correct term, really, since they were little more than mercenaries).

Watching further, he closed his eyes the very moment the young woman, a young mother, stepped on the mine. The tears of her daughter would haunt him for days.

It's the price we have to pay.

He cursed, again, and signaled for his men to retreat, quickly. It wasn't nice, but the People's Front of Freedom Exterminated had to be careful with its resources. And they simply couldn't afford fighting a battle they couldn't win.

The next morning, Francis could see a faint light at the horizon. The village was burning.

Freedom Exterminated, Eastern Mountains, Several weeks ago

Serena Hazika smiled a little, watching the children. She was a mother herself, although of her three children, only one was still alive. Her first daughter had died from starvation, her son during a bombing of the government. Yet, having seen so much death, so much destruction, so much pain and so much misery had, oddly enough, helped her. She was hard, now, without being cold. She could feel, but she knew the hard reality. She knew how to deal with the problems her people had.

"Run! Run!" She grabbed two of the children nearby, carrying one, a young girl, and holding the second, a slightly older boy, by the hand. "Be quick, and careful!" she whispered. It wasn't all that bad. Here, in the mountains, they could hide from the helicopters.

Which they had to, now.

Kneeling behind a few rocks, trying to make herself as small as possible, hiding the two children under her (While knowing that this wouldn't really protect them, should she be hit by the 12.7mm machine guns used by the helicopter), she hoped.

She heard a bursts of fire, and begun praying. Her people had never been liked by the elites in the capital, Kasachi, but now... It was an extermination campaign. And she had enough trouble trying to stay alive, just like the rest of her people, trying to seek allies, to stay alive, to break through the chains of ethnic diversity.

There was an explosion, and she realised with horror what this attack was about.

Missiles.

She looked up, carefully, a bit scared, hoping that there weren't any ground forces present. She was lucky, there weren't. Yet, there was the sweet, sharp smell of burning opium. And the bright lights of the facility where they ennobled the opium to heroin, burning.

No.

She could see the cloud, just like the two kids. The girl didn't really know what this meant, she just knew that this substance they had kept was, in some way, important. Serena knew more. She wasn't addicted, of course, but what they had just lost weren't just drugs.

It was money. Money that would have given them the ability to acquire what they needed. To gain the possibility to defend themselves. To fight.

Serena wept, silently, stroking the boy next to her. He, a mere eight years old, had another problem, as the tiny dots on his left arm proved.

Serena wept, wondering what would happen to Freedom Exterminated's People's Front.

The Present, Nanakaland

Francis held his bag, tightly, unsure what to do with it. He wasn't used to holding bags. AK's, sure. But not this. He chuckled a little, uncertain, nervously, the suit (Cheap, of course, so he didn't exactly look professional, but he did at least look common and not like some wild terrorist, like he did, back in the jungle) striking him as odd, almost obscene.

He hadn't really got what Antoine Ghali had told him, something about an International Underground, of support, of a chance. Of course, he had read the text, proudly, having learned to read and write a few years ago. Nonetheless, it did strike him as odd.

Yet, he was determined to represent the People's Front of Freedom Exterminated as good as he could. Perhaps, just perhaps, this was an actual chance. Besides, he wanted to know just how the information, the message had been distributed. If there was a security leak... Well, he would see. And just in case, the nine millimetre he had just been given, after getting through the local security, safely, would almost certainly be helpful.

The Present, Nanakaland, different Person

"Thanks." Serena smiled, paying for, and taking the newspaper. She found it quite odd, reading the local news. There was a war fought in her homeland, a war costing dozens of lives, every day. A war enslaving children, killing mothers, crippling fathers. Yet, the world seemed to be rather used to it, as there was not a single word about it in the newspaper, nor about President Christofe Matunde and his corrupt regime. Nor about the opium/ heroin trade. Nor about the exploitation of the gold mines in the south west. Nothing about the natural resources of Freedom exterminated vanishing in the mouths of hungry corporations and regimes abroad.

She laughed, bitterly, realising that her nation seemed to be almost unextant in the eyes of the developed world. Well, she could deal with that, but still, it was frustrating. Of course, this wasn't really her job, here. What was her job, after Freedom Exterminated's People's Front had lost a significant chunk of its resources in the attack a few weeks ago, was to find suitable resurces to support her cause. To support the cause of her people. And she was determined to succeed, no matter what. And international help? Well, why not. If everything else failed, she could still try to get a Moneylaunderingstan passport, for some basic business. Even though the idea of entering the seedier areas their people lived in didn't exactly boost her confidence.

However, right now, her main problem was that she was really incapable of walking in this horrible heels.

The Contact didn't like his job. He admitted this much openly. He was the one who had to go out and do the meetings when it was too risky to send Il Sultano or The Bookie but their knowledge of How Things Work was necessary. So, yeah, he was the one sent into hazardous situations, and yeah, he didn't like it. Not one bit. Still, his boss, The Bookie, understood quite well--always compensated him by not bothering him too much. He was paid well, and at least he didn't get the blatantly dangerous jobs like The Enforcer did. Still, The Contact knew the main reason why he'd always be The Contact.

He knew too much, and he was too easily cowed into doing these sorts of things. So easily cowed that his bosses never even had to suggest it.

Still, he was good at it, and that gave him at least some sense of professional pride as he drove his rented jeep through the deserts of Nanakaland, wearing absolutely nondescript khaki fatigue trousers with cargo patch pockets, a short sleeve fatigues shirt, and a utility vest, also khaki. Added to that was his floppy khaki hat, making him look more like a reporter than some soldier, terrorist, or freedom-fighter, especially with his carefully-done brown hair and well-tanned news-anchor face.

But, hey. That just meant he had a better chance of getting off if he was picked up by the authorities.

The Mirfakan representatives work their way to the meeting place and arrive within a day of one another. After going through some checks, they settle in to wait for the meeting.

The General sat, waiting for the others to arrive. In time, he thought. In time. Now all I can do is wait. Unless... maybe... just maybe... perhaps... there may be a chance that I can incite the elves in the Nanakan Forest. The more sides in the upcoming civil war in Nanakaland, the more of a chance I have of winning. I want ultimate control of all of Nanakaland! I want to be the Supreme Dictator. Nanakaland is rightfully mine! Whatever support I can raise, it will help me gain power. Sure. I'll help them gain power, too. I WANT ULTIMATE POWER OVER NANAKALAND! ALL OF NANAKALAND! Nanakaland shall be MINE!

[OOC: As soon as everyone settles in to the meeting room, it shall all begin...]

[OOC: This RP deserves a BUMP so everyone can RP the entrance to meeting. It needs to start soon.]

The Contact arrives, almost as literally in the middle of nowhere as reasonably possible. Leaving the jeep in gear out of habit, he hops out, pays his respects to those present, and introduces himself as "The Contact from Moneylaunderingstan" before sitting down and producing a spiral-bound notepad from one of his utility vest's pockets.

ooc: I'm making some blatant assumptions, poke me, should this assumptions be wrong. But given the apparent ability of a significant underground to exist, and a civil war being planned, I'm under the assumption that it should be reasonably easy to get teh gunz.

A while later

Serena Hazika sighed. The abandoned village was depressing.

And here I thought a developed nation would be less depressing than my home...

Having lived in the mountains, she wasn't exactly used to the desert, indeed, apart from the two times she had been in southern FE, she didn#t have any experiences with it, at all. And she hadn't exactly enjoyed the two visits she had paid the desert, either.

Sighing again, and shielding herself from the burning sun, she left the jeep she had rented with the precious money she had been given to organise things, carrying the ludicrous amount of firepower she had managed to purchase shortly after arriving in Nanakaland. Sure, this was supposed to be a friedly meeting in a friendly atmosphere, but she had her suspicions, given the rather unique character of the General's plan.

The wind was surprisingly strong, pleasently so, as it made the temperature slightly less oppressive. Looking around, and spotting nothing but a few more or less uninhabitable buildings, she smirked.

I guess they're out of money, given the local luxury...

Then, she walked on, eventually spotting a guard. Sure, her english was reasonably poor (Her french however, was quite excellent), but it was enough to get the necessary information, as suspicious has the guard was. Which was understandable, considering Serena's personal defence equipment, as she liked to call it, but then, she was, eventually, convinced to keep most of it elsewhere, carrying only a small handgun and a knife, both of which were unlikely to be a serious threat, given their tendency of not blowing up entire buildings with one shot.

Entering, she looked around, nodding politely, being herself, a woman with far to many wrinkles, originating from her sorrows and pain, her hair short, yet pleasant, fitting her ebony skin. "Serena, Freedom Exterminated's People's Front. With whom am I having the honour?"

Nanakaland, Elsewhere

Francis sort of lagged behind, having just finished his thorough visit of the capital, the visit involving some of its seedier districts. It was most certainly interesting, visiting the developed world, and while he felt little more than contempt for the little people all around him, concerned over such useless, unimportant things, their second car, their interest rates, their sports teams, when there were so much more important things out there, things like the freedom, the life of his people... It didn't exactly stop him from experiencing their culture as much as he could.

Yet, he wasn't overly impressed with it. An overcomplicated, yet meaningless life, a culture that wasn't a culture but a means of economic growth, and nothing else. Decadence, corruption... No, he really wasn't impressed.

Of course, this didn't help his opinion regarding the general and his plan, either. Yet, he was sort of supposed to gain some basic information, at the very least. And as such, he did, eventually, begin his trip to the village, idly cursing the somewhat dry weather.

Nonetheless, the representative of The People's Front of Freedom Exterminated would be a tad late.

"Welcome, representative from Freedom Exterminated," said a man sitting at the end of a table who apparantly was the mysterious "General" that sent the message. "Take your seat. Representatives from Moneylaunderingstan and Mirfak have already arrived. Combined with me, representing Nanakaland, there are four nations represented here to start the International Union of Underground Networks, hereby refered to as the IUUN.

"We shall discuss in this meeting the plans for the future, including recruitment. The structure of this Union shall be decided here. You three organizations, as well as the Underground, shall be the founding members. You will have great power and respect as our organization grows.

"However, before we start talking about that, we shall start out with introducing ourselves. I am the General here representing the Underground, from Nanakaland."

Serena looked slightly bemused at the General, not really comprehending his somewhat... Pretentious? tone. Sitting down, not without her heels resulting in her almost tripping over, she chuckled. "Nations? As far as I know, we're still trying to get those nations, no? But I guess a little bit of optimism isn't a bad idea."

She nodded politely at 'The Contact'. Given what she has seen, so far, she is considering him to be the most useful person present. Which didn't say much.

"Well, since I did already introduce myself... I wonder. Moneylaunderingstan is going to, uh... Fund us, or rather, to work as some sort of centralised... Credit Institute, yes? Given that I am not to keen on staging a combined underground movement against Il Sultano, who has recently acquired an entire nation, or so I have heard..."

She sighed again, idly wishing that the meeting would take place in the muntains, rather than the desert.

The heat is killing me.

"Well, anyway. Gentlemen, I'm listening to your... Introductions."

The Mirfakans look amused, and one, a young white man of about thirty, stands. "Excuse me Sir, but we're not affiliated with one another. The three of us may all be from Mirfak, but we are from seperate factions. I am Isha Colmin, from the Mirfakan Fundamentalist Party. The second representative, an older black man of about fifty with a long beard and wrinkled face, stands next. "Mendel Pikallo. I represent the Civil Freedoms Party." The last to stand is a tall, attractive woman who looks to be about twenty. Her down-to-earth looks and long black hair are complementary to her face, gentle but strong. "I am Mika Ueda, representative of the Xanthalian Socialist Party." She sits, and the Mirfakans' introductions are complete.

The Contact half-smiles a reporter-esque professional half-smile, boyish figures and genetically smooth complexion making him look unfairly younger than he actually is. He'd do well as a politician, perhaps, or an anchorman. He certainly seems out of place in the middle of the desert at a congregation of terrorists and revolutionaries. He folds his smooth-skinned hands over his notepad, pencil slid inbetween fingers as he looks around.

"I'm The Contact from Moneylaunderingstan," he says quietly enough to be unassuming but loud enough to be heard clearly, "and no, we're not too interested in funding as of yet. We only kick over nations whom we've got special relationships with that decide not to play ball." He nods a quiet acknowledgement to Serena that her information was indeed correct. "Us directly funding you all would probably create ties that none of our parties need, as we don't so much donate as we invest."

A predatory smile, a momentary pause; a little bit of speech study and a hobby as a dramatist applied. "No, what we want to do is provide a secure, untraceable means for your... patrons and supporters to fund your operations. Just a little bit of honest business, as we're not about to pry into the business of our customers--goes against national policy.

"Our specialties are, of course, secure bank accounts, discreet transfers, and... monetary transfer record realignment; all these are matters of simple marginal 'cuts' taken off the top of the money we have to handle. For additional fees, we arrange meetings between potential suppliers and potential sellers, all in the very discreet and careful way that I'm sure people of your caliber would demand. We also offer services in active inventory reduction where we buy things from you to reduce your overhead before offering them for resale; on the other hand, we sometimes have... rare items for purchase via our usual secure means.

"Just making sure we understand each other," he sums up, placing his hands flat against the table, "and all in all, I think that our various business plans could synergize quite nicely."

"Now that we've gotten everything straightened out," the General said, "let's now talk about creating the framework of the IUUN." The General seemed fairly uneasy. He was uncertain on some facts and didn't seem much like a leader. The others probably imagined the General as someone else - anyone else.

Suddenly, a bodygaurd next to the General pulled out a handgun and shot the General in the head. Half a dozen other Underground members ran in the meeting room. One said, "Do not panic. You are experiencing a... change in leadership of the Underground." Then, seven shots rang out.

All rebellious Underground members were shot dead. The General, who was standing behind them with the gun, explained, "I had my suspicions that a few discontented Underground members would try to overthrow me during this meeting, so I put a body double in my place during the beginning. Of course, I was safely listening to everything in the other room, so I'm pretty much caught up.

"Of course, the body double made a few slip ups because he couldn't be briefed on anything due to time constraints. As you can see, only me and him were able to know about the last minute switch because some of those rebels were pretty high up. However, I ensure you that nothing else like that will happen during your stay. I'll make sure of it.

"So, now let us resume our meeting. I ensure you that I'm the real 'General' here. Now where were we?"

Colmin and Pikallo sit wordless throughout the event, except when Colmin corrects the general on his last sentence, "assure." Ueda seems disturbed by the violence of the meeting thus far and stands. "I can see that my participation this meeting is not in my party's interest. I will return to Mirfak and continue my efforts there." She leaves the room and prepares to go, as the other two from Mirfak look on amusedly.

"Well, as you can see, I made that slip up in speach because other things were distracting me," replied the General. He turned to the leaving representative and asked, "Do you have to go? I assure you that there will be no threat to your life here. If you still wish not to be a part of the IUUN, it is your loss. I'm not holding you back."

Before

"I see your point." Serena did actually smile. As much as she could, anyway, given the slight bit of frustration she was suffering from. Not because she liked the Contact. She didn't, and given her idealism versus his cold blooded business stepping over the lifes of thousands, or, more likely, millions, she could think of a lot of potential ways to make the contact's life rather unpleasant. But she saw his point, and, more importantly, she preferred to deal with capable people, no matter just how cold and ruthless they were. Besides, she, and the people she represented, weren't exactly in a position in which they could choose their partners by judging their morality.

"Useful enough, and I agree... Additional ties are potentially risky. And fair enough... It should be useful. Mutually beneficial, even."

Nonetheless, she stopped soon enough, slightly amused as the 'General' begun talking. I do wonder just how annoyed he is by our smalltalk.

Afterwards

Serena just... Blinked. She didn't actually say anything, and she wasn't all that shocked, either, given all the blood, death and terror she had witnessed during her past. Yet, this kind of process struck her as more than just slightly odd.

Okay. So, instead of dealing with the problem beforehand, making sure that this ends up being a smooth and efficient meeting, he makes sure we all know about his internal opposition and inherent weaknesses, as well as the risk of being sold out by the losing side. And of course, he also proves that he is perfectly willing to sacrifice fellow members of his organisation in order to protect himself. Very reassuring, indeed. Well, I shall see... And possibly ask the Contact about a private meeting, once this disaster is over.

She chuckled, a little, looking at the General. "One question, General. Was there any reason in particular to risk our, your potential allies lifes by staging this impressive show of force and, shall I say, unity within your organisation? I can assure you, the people I'm representing would not exactly consider someone risking, and eventually sacrificing, the life of their choosen representative to be trustworthy or... Useful. Indeed, I would like a detailed explanation of this whole event. Lets begin with the reasons as of why you have internal opposition under high ranking members of your organisation, then look at the reasons for those getting this close to the equivalent of foreign dignitaries, that is, us, perhaps with a short excursus regarding the reasons for such opposition to actually exist, including a detailed explanation as of how you guarantee, or rather, fail to guarantee loyality and efficiency within your organisation, followed by an explanation as of why exactly you think you can build a stable and effective Internationale on such weak fundaments and, last but not least, please get rid of the corpses and clean the room before we're continuing. It smells."

Ueda leaves the building without further word, and returns to the airport to make "arrangements." The other two continue to sit, listening intently to what this alliance can offer them.

The Contact flinches with a quietly muffled 'eep' as the various shots ring out, looking none too happy at the results. He's a contact, not an enforcer; violence is certainly nowhere near his job description. Still, he knows well enough that truly senseless and unsubtle violence is bad for business, as it tends to indicate people who aren't exactly stable enough to make good decisions.

I thought I had a dramatic streak... but sweet Mother Mary in Heaven, this man is like a James Bond villan--ruthlessly ineffective. He jots some notes down in Italian in his little notebook, then looks up as he adjusts the fictional tie that should be around the open collar of his shirt. "Now, eh... was that absolutely... necessary?"

Serena goes into her speech, and The Contact nods. "Indeed. While creating a... um... double-blind may have been useful for catching your enemies, it certainly wasn't useful for, ah, impressing anyone else." He grins as he wills more blood into his face to avoid looking too pallid. "Also, how kind of you to ensure that nothing like this will happen now after the fact instead of previous. Airing your dirty laundry is, after all, bad business."

Freedom Exterminated, The Presidential Palace, Nimunde

The Presidential Palace was a nice view, especially when one looked at it from the landside, one's back towards the slums and barbed wire protecting the elites from the masses. A nice, almost golden shape, quite tasteful (Perhaps a little pompous) architecture, a few dozen palm trees in the garden giving the whole complex a somewhat rural, yet reasonably tasteful atmosphere, only disturbed by a fewnot all that well clad (But cheap) workers maintaining flowerbeds in the vicinity of the palace.

The President, Claude Sule, sighed as he looked over the reports on his desk. Sure, he was used to the warfare, to the constant assassination attempts, the occasional bomb exploding near his palace and the tourists in the restricted, 'safe' areas, whom he visited, occasionally, but among the reports regarding the extermination of various villages in the north, or the successful retaking of the Wasadi plains in the south, or, as some sort of bad news, the loss of a company of (forced) conscripts in the eastern mountains was a report that was simply unusual.

And this report was the reason for one of his seventeen ministers without portfolio, Nicolai Ghali, to be present, enjoying a nice bottle of rather expensive white wine, Dominion import.

"You think it's serious?"

Ghali hesitated, for a moment. "Potentially, yes. I mean, we got the information easily enough, my chambers-"

"Spare me the details. You know I can't stand your 'Interrogation' methods, as effective as they may be."

Ghali chuckled. He remembered the first (And only) time the President had taken part in such an interrogation. President Sule's fainting was still a state secret. But then, the President did have a daughter of comparable age, and as such, the reaction hadn't been all that surprising.

"Very well. Anyway. The information should be reliable, the object we got it from is, or rather was relatively high- ranked."

"It does still sound insane, though. I mean, not every resistance movement follows the same ideals... They might, no, will be opposing each other, their ideologies, their... Heck, it can only be hell."

Ghali nodded, smiling a little as he noticed the President's uniform featuring a new medal.

"Order of the White Knights. Made it up yesterday. It's supposed to be given for, uh... I think it was some sort of... Whatever. It's shiny. Anyway, this... 'Underground'. Potential threat level?"

"Depends entirely on how they pull it off. Personally, i'm fairly certain they will self- destruct more or less instantly, but if not... Could be vaguely effective."

Claude nodded. "So we should be careful. I am, after all, intending for my son to be my successor, not for some dirty northerner with a silly accent to usurp the position."

"Very well." Ghali stood up emptying his glass. "So I guess I'm supposed to continue with my 'Interrogations', yes?"

"Quite. Oh, and please make sure they stay quiet."

"But their screams are half the f-" Ghali stopped. It wasn't a good idea to discuss this issue with the president. "I will try my best."

With that he left the room, not paying attention to the slightly distasteful amount of oversized pictures of the president (And a lot of semi- golden furniture), eventually going to do what he could do best.

Much to the President's displeasure, one might add. Sure, he exploited this nation and its people for himself and a few thousand others, but then, he didn't have to witness it, he didn't see the individuals (Claude did make a point of not visiting the seedier parts of Nimunde).

Yet, he knew of the individuals down there.

Okay. Food is out of the question. God, I hate him so much...

Nanakaland

Serena waited, and waited, and waited. The General was most certainly amusing to look at, saying nothing, not moving at all, as if the reactions to his 'not so smart' move had frozen him in time and space.

"Errr... Mr. General? Mr. General, you aren't sleeping, are you?"

She looked at the Contact, slightly confused. "Do you know... Something we could do to get him back?"

The Contact shrugged. "I'm afraid I've never really been into all that new-age summoning and such. Still..." The flickers of his eyes seem to communicate the rest--to the General (So he pops in...), the corpses (...shoots people...), the General again (...takes a mental vacation...) and then the door (...perhaps leaving is the best option.).

"Sorry I got sidetracked," said the General. "Now we will get back on schedule. First, I will ask what you want in the IUUN. Before we start drafting a framework, we must all say what each of us whats in this alliance. This is a totally new alliance with nothing new to reference back to so -"

Suddenly, a man entered the Underground meeting room. The General asked him, "What now!? I'm pretty tired of interruptions for this meeting."

"War," the messenger explained. "Civil war in Nanakaland has broken out. Underground forces are fighting in Nanakan Labs. If we can win that northern city, then we can have a place from which to attack the capital city. We need to divert much of our forces."

"Indeed," replied the General. "We are going to have to postpone this meeting slightly. You will be allowed limited communication with your main organizations to report up on this meeting - and we'll monitor it so that you won't reveal any sensative information - and try to get some help for us. If Nanakaland is under our command then the IUUN will be powerful. So, let a few hour break begin. Try to stay within this village and when I'm done warplanning, I'll summon you back."

"I see..." Serena nodded, slowly, agreeing with the non- verbal part of the 'discussion'. Seems to be a good idea.

Yet, just as she was rising, the General 'awakened', so to speak, much to Serena's surprise. Oh well. And I thought I could get some coffee. A silent curse on her lips, she listened, mildly amused by the 'results'.

Well, I realised that he wasn't the brightest one under the sun, but...

"Am I understanding you correctly, General?" She asked, with a surprisingly sweet, almost innocent voice. "We were invited to take part in your organisation, for mutual benefit, yet you're 1. Limiting our means for communication with our own people, 2. 'Try to stay within this village.' Well... What if we don't?"

She hesitated for a second, clearing her throat. "Oh, and before I forget it. You seem to be rather surprised regarding the war, which kind of astounds me, given that I would expect the leader of an 'Underground' to know when his organisation will strike. Yet, apparently, you don't, given your noticeable surprise when the guard came in. And please, 'Warplanning'. Shouldn't you have planned for this... Beforehand? Just a suggestion. Oh, and I find it mildly amusing that you, or rather your organisation, starts the conflict before effective international ties with, well, us have been established, thus potentially jeopardizing the whole endeavour.

"So, given this..." Hummm. Something to drink would be nice. "Given that you don't seem to control your organisation nor the situation, I sort of doubt your ability to control Nanakaland, or, indeed, to build an effective 'international' organisation.

"And finally..." Serena smiled again, seemingly amused by this. "Finally, I sort of have to note that you failed to answer a single one of my questions. Even the corpses weren't removed. May I ask you... Do you even listen to what your potential allies are saying?"

Another slight bit of hesitation. Serena was a little nervous, understandably so, given that she was kinda alone, and as such, kinda vulnerable. Yet, she had never been someone who could control her temper. Now she would have to deal with it.

"As such, I think... Well, you don't know of any save ways to leave Nanakaland, right now, do you?"

Elsewhere, Nanakaland

Although Serena's situation was bad, Francis' was even worse.

Dodging half a dozen bullets coming after him and congratulating himself for the sheer amount of luck he had (Or alternatively, the lack of training his opponets had received), he wondered just what had happened, and why the hell he went from a known environment, the jungle, to Nanakaland, just to witness urban combat. Which was something he wasn't exactly experienced in.

Firing a few rounds with one of the guns he had recently acquired (While at the same time being the only gun he still had), he could watch himself missing the target.

It's one of these days...

All that remained was to run.

And Francis ran.

The Meeting
"I am not limiting your means of communication with your own people," replied the General. "If it sounded like so, then I am sorry. You are free to communicate, but we will be monitoring it for keywords to make sure you are not really spies. In this early stage, we do not know who to trust yet.

"As for telling you to stay within this village, it is for your own safety. It is desert out there. If you do leave the village, we are not responsible if you get caught, get shot by our enemies, or lost in the desert on your way to the city - desert roads sometimes get covered in sandstorms after all. You can leave, but it is dangerous out there.

"I am the leader of the Nanakaland Underground. I knew we were going to strike in Nanakan Labs, but it was a minor assassination. The sleepers there were awakened when fighting erupted there, but we did not expect a battle. And we didn't start the conflict. There are more sides than 'us versus them.' There is the president and his loyalists, the Senate and their followers, the elven rebels in the forest, and the organization called 'PATRIOT Defenders' which seems to get more militaristic every day.

"I control my organization. I did stomp out the rebels and everything was in place in Nanakan Labs as a precaution. However, the war planning was scheduled directly after this meeting. The civil war, if I was in total control of it, would have started two weeks from now when the Underground is totally ready to fight. The other four factions started it sooner than anticipated. Even our spies in their ranks were unable to predict that a first battle with three fronts would spark today.

"The situation will soon be in our control. Our sleeper cells have been awaken in all four major cities. Their job is to keep this first battle lasting weeks while minimizing the amound of Underground member deployments and maximizing enemy casualties. They have orders to attack the winning side to keep the battles raging in Nanakan Labs, Nanakapolis, and Port Nanaka. I have many surprizes yet to come that will allow us to win this. In two weeks, full control of Nanakaland will likely be mine.

"The corpses shall be removed upon the end of this meeting. As for you wanting to leave, I understand that. Helicopters are harder to detect by satellite and radar. I am willing to lend each representative a helicopter if they wish to return safely home. Using helicopters, one is able to fly safely out of the desert and over the wasteland with very few potential hazards. Then a ship or airplane in a neighboring nation can take you to your destination. There is no conflict in the desert or wastelands as of now.

"And upon second thought, if you do want to return to your nations you can. I will supply a helicopter to whoever wants to leave. Another meeting will be called in exactly seven days in which the IUUN will be fully established. Now you can depart to either rest in the village or your home nation."

The Mirfakans leave for the village without further discussion.

The Contact looks down and slowly, carefully, closes his notebook, laying his pencil diagonally across it. Folding his hands, he leans forward slightly and smiles at the General.

"I will be decidedly frank with you, General. We are not too picky about our customers; as long as we get our cut, we're rather uninterested in the stalwart ideology, cunning intelligence, or astounding ineptitude of whoever decides to do business with us. However, as with any business, we are at least partially defined by who keeps their custom with us and we are aware of that."

He leans back very slightly. "Now, you want to build yourself an empire, hmm? It may be an empire of anarchists and 'freedom fighters,' perhaps, but it is an empire nonetheless. If you continue to show the same level of martial and organizational skill as you've demonstrated to us today, then you may indeed become well known, but perhaps not in a way that my interests would have any real desire to be connected with beyond that of the casual once-in-a-while business transaction. We take it as a point of pride to not work in... closer business partnerships except with those of only the most excellent caliber, as Il Sultano desires only the best in everything.

"I have told you of the services we offer, and, if you are ever in the need of them, you can look us up and we will be happy to profit from your custom. I must politely decline your gracious offer of a helicopter, because one can never know if the pilot may turn out to be, as you said, a spy or a traitor. Given what I have seen thus far, I believe it is best to take my chances in the jeep that I brought here."

Picking up the pencil and notepad, he quietly slips them into their respective slots and pouches on his utility vest and stands up slowly. "Good day, General."

"Well... Good luck, I guess." Serena answered, frowning. A little. "You will need it. However, my personal, as well as my people's interests lie in something a little... Different from this, and as such, I shall now wish you a good day."

She stands up, slowly, quickly getting her (Few) belongings together to eventually turn and leave. "As I said, good luck. Nothing personal, but our interests lie... Elsewhere."

And with that, she's out, eventually reaching the jeep she had come with. All in place. Well. Time to get away from this horribly depressing place.