NationStates Jolt Archive

The universe is a big place, but some parts are rather crowded. Take a look at the Milky Way galaxy. It's home to the most creatures of any other explored galaxy. And zooming in closer, you would find the most crowded solar system to be around a medium sized, middle aged star. And the most crowded of the most crowded of the most crowded is a blue planet called many names. Some call it Earth, some Terra, some Hell and others still Sol 3. Whatever the name, we are not interested in the planet itself, but a single nation on a single continent...

"Move that bulldozer! We can't get the tanks through, dammit!" A Sergeant shouted from the top of his war machine. "Screw you! I gotta get this road clear, take 27th!" came the response.

The city is Myer, once known as Warsaw, before Poland was dissolved. The nation is Crimmond, a nation contolling many dissolved nations. Originally Poland and Czekloslovokia, Crimond annexed it's neighboring Baggera and took with it lands once called Belarus, Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia and Kaliningrad. The continent is, of course, Europe.

The tank commander ordered the column to take the side route, quickly, to avoid being late to their positions. "Damn civvies don't realize that we're in a war here... so go around." A sigh and he looked up at the clear blue sky. Jet Stream must be South today. No bilge air from Myer.

Zooming out we would see the whole nation. To the north of the garrisoning city, one would see a large pollution center on the coast. Though a week before, it was simply a port city that had only a thin layer of smog. The cause is moving through and out of the city... Sentinels led by the imfamous Lord Damien Dreadfire. To theopposite extremeof the nation is teh city of Bratislava, renamed Needles. Needles was being sacked and industries destroyed by a suprising source. Crimmond's own Emperor, Administrator Delta. The rest of the nation was more or less pristine of air polution, excepting the eternal clouds of acid rain over Myer, the industrial center of the nation.

OOC: Simply a story RP, based in my war RP with AMF. Sit back and enjoy the details of what's going on in the parts not mentioned in that thread, not relevant enough to post there. Oh and... it'll get better. Promise.

Myer. A city with more armor on it than whole armies. Buildings built to withstand daily torrents of acid rain. Buildings that can take bombardment from naval batteries without toppling. A city that is so large it has raised continental temperatures three degrees celcius. and then there is the garrison of this fortress of a city...

"Sir. We're recieving reports all over the nation about fighting. The Black Staff has footholds everywhere. There's a small faction in the southern area of the city as well, but their being routed."

General Meridius, a man with a gruff, war weary exterior, looked up at the officer before him. "Good. Has contact been restablished with Delta?"

"No, sir. He's taken the city, but we can't establish any communication with anyone in the area of the city. No one will answer."

"What about Lady Tian?"

A nod. "Yes sir, she has agreed to allow you to take any course you deem needed. You need only propose an idea."

"Get me a line to her in here."

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Thirty minutes later, Meridius stepped out into the corridor. His aide approached and stopped mid-stride. Others looked up at that and stared at the General. On his placard, instead of his four stars, there was a cluster of five. "Organize an announcement. Broadcast to Damien and his forces, as well as our own."

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"All AMF forces. Contact with the Administrator's force has been severed. Therefore... I, General Maximus Decimus Meridius, am assuming temorary command of the Crimmond military and am assuming the rank of General of the Army as per the orders of Lady Lara Tian, heir to the throne of Crimmond. You have the liberty to attack any major city that resists you. The list sent to Damien is being forwarded to you as we speak. If you wish air support, you need only ask." He paused and looked out at the small group around him and smiled a bit, then walked away as the camera feed died.

Walking in the corridors of Garrison Command, he thought about what he was doing. General of the Army Maximus Decimus Merdius... I'm gonna need a bigger door. He sighed. I've been shot at, I've seen men die, I've held men as they died, I've ordered men to their deaths... but I have never authorized attacks on civilians. Times change. Nations change... People change.

Tag for reading purposses...and I cant see Bratislava without laughing anymore after seeing Euro Trip. Miami Vice, Number one Show!

The Death Ways. A nickname given by the populace to the connecting Autobahn style roads between the major population centers. They were in use by armies, but most were still open. Dotted along the Death Ways sit small towns, which have the sole industry(beyond sustaining their population) of Automotives.

It was raining on the stretch of Death Way between Skye and the ruins of Prauge. War wasn't on the minds of the people out here. It definantly wasn't on the mind of Alyssia Gerhardt, known more by her other name, The Assassin.

Tearing along the road at over 210 mph, on a monobike(something considered a suicidal machine, as the front repulsor had a habit of become unstable) only 100 feet ahead of her opponent, an amature who had worked their way up to her level by luck, not skill.

He caught her though, riding side by side, as they approached the worst thing about this stretch. The trestle over a canal. Devil's Drainpipe she thought as she swerved into the rookie, who suprised her by havig anticipated and swerved into her at the same time. The shock made both let off the throttle to keep control. Alyssia looked over and saw him gun it, so she did as well, kepingpace until they reached the Drainpipe, second later.

Again, she swerved, much harder this time and thought she had him going off as he let off the throttle and vanised from her field of vision. Another fatality... she began to think, dropping off the throttle as she got halfway across the trestle. That turned out to be a mistake, as her opponent had dodged the fatal trip off the edge and was at her opposite blind spot, ready to strike.

He swerved into her and made contact, timing the fatal push and gunning the engine to send her spinning, right off the road and off the bridge, clipping a trestle on the way. He looked down off th side and saw her bike impact the bank and slide down to the water...

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Standing up from the prone driving position, the rookie removed is helmet and looked around. The crowd was smaller than normal, but was going wild. He had just won a race through fatality, a crowd favorite anyway, but had won against The Assassin, the racer with the highest fatality record in history. He looked up at the announcer stand and stepped up to the smaller one by it.

"And here is your winner, Specter! The man that ended The Assassin's reign of terror on the Death Ways! That deserves a trophy in my book!"

Prauge. Once Slovokia's old capital and one of Crimmond's historical cities... now was a shell barely recognizable as a city. How? Imagine a nuclear explosion in a city. Be it the bombing of Steel Butterfly's old capital, Steel City, or any number of old war footage from the time. Now add two more spaced evenly East and West of that one. Another two North and South. The similtanious detonations of all five bombs inside the city leveled most of it, killed all but a miniscule 2% of the population instantly and left five small, distinct craters.

A woman walked among the rusted hulks of the catalyst for the explosions years past. The Cluster of Vultures that were bombarding the city. The fact that the Mechs were still here so long after the Battlemech Galaxies were decommisioned is a tribute to the sheer isolation the area had seen until this latest conflict.

The woman stood near one and looked at the decimated city befoe going back to camp, populatedby a dozen or two nomads and a few whores, both male and female. She was a clean woman though, making her the exception and making her enemies of a few men. One had tried to rape her. He lived, though missing his favorite organ. No others had tried since.

Entering her tent, she reachedfor the dagger on her belt. The katana on her back was too unweildy in the small space. She stared at the reason from the movement and scowled. "Out."

The man looked up and smirked. he was a small, fat man with a grey beard. in his lap sat a Calico Liberty 100. "Now now, Miss Laran... is that any way to treat a war hero? Colonel Meyers. Hunter-Seeker Corps, Retired."

"What do you want, Colonel?" She asked, eyeing him.

"Bussiness. Recon and possible assassination."

She laughed, replacing the dagger. "I'm retired too. Once the Corps disbanded, I couldn't find work. The Black Staff used their favorites."

Meyers nodded, "I know. But this is a job from the Imperials. Two Black Staff operatives went missing several years ago and they want to know what happened. They were assassins and we're afraid they may reappear."

"Names?" Laran asked immediatly, crossing her arms.

"Assassin Grade One Drake and Former Empress and Assassin Grade One Domino Andolini." He answers quietly, leaning back in his chair.

She stared at him for nearly a minute. "Grade One? That's bad enough... but Domino and Drake... hell, you might as well just sign me a death certificate now. I can't eliminate them! Domino's been to Hell and back! Literally!"

"Hades. Not Hell. Hades is Hell's waiting room, more or less. I digress... you're job is not to kill them. Domino is an Imperial and friend of Lady Lara Tian. Drake is the one we don't like. Anyway, you only need to find out what happened."

A sigh. "Allright. In or out of Crimmond?"

He stood. "Out. A place on the Ambrosial Coast. Run by a family you may have heard of... Shentavo. That's the other part... we don't know what happened to them either. If they eleiminated the two assassins... find out who and terminate them. At all costs."

She nodded and sighed again. "Allright Colonel. You got yourself a deal. I'll prepare and leave soon."

Myer, again. But not with the powerful, but with teh weak. The bottom of the armorod buildings extended to underground complexes, where the 'undesirables', which were useful for many reasons, were kept.

She was a pleasure slave, one for over a decade. Short raven hair reached midneck. Skin was a pale color, bordering on albino. Came from a lineage she didn't know of. She didn't burn in the sun though, which she was glad for.

Today though, she was not busy with any men. In front of her was a stack of chips. 1,123 Crimmars. Only... another thousand to go... She sighed and wondered if she'd ever buy her freedom. This money took years to aquire.

Her door chimed and she looked up. "Enter." She said, not caring if she had a pile of credits in front of her or not. No one messed with her. The woman who entered was dressed skimpily. Another slave.

"Kamara... word just came that one of the Imperial high ups wants you in the penthouses ASAP." She said quietly, watching as Kamara rose.

"Who? That pig Saratov again? No? Then who?" She asked, wondering what other high up would know of her expertise, as it were.

"It's... uh... Riok Oran. I can make up an excuse if you want. I wouldn't do please that... creature."

Kamara smirked however. Oran was leader of the Imperial Party, subbordinate only to Lady Tian. If she pleased him... she might be freed. Or at least out of this place. "Tell him I'll be there in a half hour." She answered, ignoring the gaping look as she moved to her small wardrobe.

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About ten minutes later, she was in tight leather pants, thight leather top with high heels adding four inches to her six foot one height. She wasn't all that fond of the outfit, but men liked it. Usually.

Stopping when a group of slaves blocked her path, she listened to their pleas not to go. "What am I supposed to do? Tell the most powerful man in the Imperial Party no? If I say that, I'm here forever. So get out of the way so I can pull my way out of this hole."

Riding the elevator up from the basement level to the penthouses, she rode with a work crew and several marines, then some officers. All stared at her body and she ignored them. Finally, the elevator opened on the top floor and she exited, asking teh way to Oran's quarters.

Getting sputtered replies, she found her way on her own, pressing the chime by the door. It opened a moment later and she stepped through to face her future. Whatever it may take to get there.

Entering, she found it vastly different than what she expected. By the decorations on the walls, most skulls and weapons, this was actually Oran's residence in Myer. She looked around and approached a strange looking sword and reached towards the blade.

"Unless you like violent convulsions, I'd take care not to cut yourself on that. It's coated in a rare poison."

She whirled and standing a few feet away was Oran, the half reptilian Brute, half human creature that had summoned her. "I'd have it in a case, but I don't get many visitors."

She stood there and appraised him, finding he wasn't as imposing as she had thought. Dangerous looking, yes. But at the moment, he looked like a warrior without a war. "Makes sense. You have half the building scared to death. All of the slaves, to boot." She smirked, faintly.

He stared at her with his right eye, the left covered in scar tissue. She has the attitude I heard of. "True. Let us hope they never lose that fear. It is a very efficient motivator." He moved from the partial shadows to the living area, taking a seat in a stone chair.

She followed and began to remove her top, silently wondering what she could expect. She was stopped by his words. "What are you doing, Kamara? I am pronouncing that correct, yes?"

She nodded. "I'm disrobing."

"Why?"

This got a startled look out of her. "I thought that was why you summoned me. To.. please you."

"You are mistaken. Please, have a seat..." he answere, gesturing to the military gray couch. He paused until she had seated herself. "Kamara, I summoned you here to talk. As I said, I don't get visitors... Do you enjoy your work?"

She was still taken aback by the fact he wanted to talk, but nodded. "Of course."

"You're lying. I'm adept at reading body heat and facial bloodflow. You're suprised and just gave an engrained response. You will answer truthfully."

"I do what I have to do. I can't refuse or I'll die. I take what I've been given until I can buy my freedom." softly came the answer from the near-albino.

He chuckled. A harsh sound. "Ah, yes... the money you have. Stolen from the rich men you have pleased, no doubt. Quite a sum you have, I hope you gaurd it well. So you accept your lot in life, for now?"

"We must take life's twists as obsticals to overcome. As you well know." came the response, at normal speaking level. Kamara was over her suprise and made the comment in regards to his eye.

He understood that and chuckled again. "You have a spine. More than many non-slaves I know. I could have your life without anyone asking why. Yet you speak to me so."

"Why shouldn't I? I don't fear you..."

Riok stared at her for a long few seconds. "I see. That is... interesting. No one has not feared me in all my years in this armor. But you speak the truth." Another pause. "You saw the vids of Gdansk's decimation by Dreadfire?"

She nodded. "Everyone has."

"How did you feel when you saw it?"

"Envious. I wanted to be able to weild such power to command an army to utterly destroy a city. To order the death of so many thousands." She smirked. "I didn't know them, why should I care who they were? Let them burn."

He thought this over and stood. "Please follow me. I have a task for you..."

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

They were soon outside an interrogation area of the Imperial Tower. The gaurd at the door stared at Kamara's chest as so many countless others, both male and femal had. Oran noticed it and brought one of the spikes on his forarm to the gaurd's throat. "You will treat those in my company as you would me. Or you will die were you stand." He dropped the arm as the door opened and teh gaurd had gone pale.

Kamara was suprised again. He had not only noticed the stare, but had defended her honor. She was being treated as a lady by one of the most powerfull men in Crimmond. That filled her with a small thrill as she followed Oran through the door.

Oran was at the door of another room as she stepped to his side. "Beyond this door is a cell containing a Black Staff operative we captured. He has information about where the surviving members of the Black Council are hiding. You will extract the information, without causing fatal injury to the prisoner. He is allready bound to a table. You only need to finish the interrogation."

She listened and nodded. "What happens if he doesn't give the information?" came the obvious question.

"You will return to the slave area and your life will be as it was." He stated and stepped away, to a monitoring area.

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

She spent three minutes waking the prisoner and five more examining the tools at her disposal. Everything was at her fingertips, from thumbscrews to neural inhibitors. She chose a Cat o'Nine Tails and stepped around so he could see her. "The location."

"Go to Hell." he muttered at her.

"I probably will. Not today though..." she answere and struck him in the cheek with the handle of the insturment. "Location."

"Screw you, bitch!" he shouted and strained against his restraints, until she punched him in the crotch.

"Maybe later. But right now, I'm not the one getting screwed."

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

The interogation went on for another thirty minutes, with the prisoner being punished for resisting and rewarded with sensual treatment for cooperation. By the end, he had given out a city, but by his reactions, didn't know anything more specific, except that there was only two of the three survivors there. The other was somewhere else. He didn't know where.

She exited and reported to Oran. "Two are in Kaliningrad. Probably hoping that any invasion of the city will allow them to remain unnoticed. The otehr is in another city, but he doesn't know which."

He nodded at he information. "I heard. Very good. I am please with your handling of the prisoner, Miss Kamara. From my observatons, he was indeed speaking the truth." He turned to the two marines nearby. "Carry out the execution."

He turned and she followed him out, ignoring the sound of gunfire behind her. Riok Oran had called her Miss Kamara. Not 'you there' or 'slave' or any other number of insulting names. She really might get out of being a pleasure slave...

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She was back in Riok's penthouse, sitting on the couch as he stared out the window at the city. "Kamara, what is teh one thing you would wish for, had you the opportunity?"

She paused, only to see if he was serious. "My freedom. Of course."

"That is impossible. You cannot free a freed woman." he said quietly, just loud enough for her to hear.

She was silent for a long minute. "You..." She whispered softly, then went silent again.

"Had you freed while you were interrogating the prisoner. Your belongings are all here, in the closet. Now you have a simple choice." he spoke louder, turning so he was framed against the setting sun. "You can walk out that door with your belongings and go wherever you wish, with nothing more said."

She nodded slowly. "And the other choice?"

Oran stepped forward. "The other choice is you take your belongings, take the elevator down three levels to your waiting apartment, complete with a slave of your choice to do with what you will, and begin training to be an Imperial Inquisitor."

Kamara stared at him. The Imperial Inquisition was as imfamous in Crimmond as the Spanish Inquisition was in teh rest of the world, when it was in service. "I accept." she answered after a second. "Thank you... Riok."

He tilted his head and nodded. It took much wisdom and much spine to adress him by his first name, but he knew she had earned that respect. "Then go get settled, Cadet Inquisitor. Your training starts in the morning. All the information is waiting for you there."

She gathered her things and left, in awe at waht had happened this day. She had started off as a slave for anyone who wanted her and now was going to begin training for the most elite interrogation service in Crimmond and have her own slave. "I did it... I'm not sure how, exactly... but I did it." Kamara muttered as she boarded the elevator car.

From slave to slavemaster. From a controlled fate to controlling fates. Not a usual day for anyone. Even less for a slave. Kamara is a very fortunate citizen of the newly reforming Empire, no doubt.