NationStates Jolt Archive

Shining vividly in the dark, the helicoptors moved into place, and ropes unfurled, much like the tentacles of an octupus. Clad in black, men with no face to their claim slid down the ropes, a menacing and foul aura arising. As they hit the straightened up, and began an incredibly mechanical march.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

The constant beat created by the human drums shook the very coast line of Lethislavania, a swarm of Energie Geschöpfe.

The most feared enemy of the people.




Thomas Winkling awoke, sweat drenching his clothes. Grasping his blanket tightly, he got up and picked up his phone.

"Yes. Is Maria in?" He asked, quietly, trying not to wake his wife.

"Yes, sir, I'll connect you." Gentle jazz music came through the headphone, calming him a bit.

"Maria Santos talking." A tired, but crisp voice answered.

"Yes, Maria, this is Thomas. I think we may have a problem." He looked outside. In the distance, a swarm of black erased the brown coastline. Dreaded oil on this prized land.




Smiling, the new leader of Sabre reached across the table to touch the face of Natalie, who was clad in skin-tight leather. "You are so beautiful..." He murmured, tracing his finger down the side of her face. "We are a cliche, my love, but we shall soon rule this fair country. No one will stop us."

She smiled, her lips tightening into a despisable grin. "Yes, honey. We can not lose. God is on our side."

He shook his head. "There is no god of old, we are the gods."

She chuckled. "If you say so..." The candles blew out, as their later romances are of no matter. As they spoke, the Energie Geschöpfe had ovverun the outer hamlets, setting fire to the very villages which had begun this great nation. Women cried, their hot tears soiling the collars of their shirts. These tears hit the ground, as the bodies piled up. Higher, higher, reaching for the heavens.

Where is God?

Why has he left us?

Stat No.A091, Terran Orbit

The melon-sized stat shot over the blue-white planet below, its single blue-black camera lens taking snapshots of the surface below. Rod logic gears clicked in the silence of space, comparing each new shot with one taken on the last pass. A passing car, a few blurs -- people -- were chucked out. It stuttered, suddenly. Something had happened -- there were not supposed to be this many people in that area. Its rod logic brain sent the two snapshots to a control stat in geostationary orbit over international waters. The melon-sized ball now continued on its way, not carrying a single trace that it had found something. The on-duty alchemists at The Tower were not as lucky.

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The Tower, Wye City, Central Pacific, Terra

The massive diamond, stresglass, and mithril-steel spire of The Tower's central spire pierced the clouds, rising above the torrential rains that were inundating the lowlands beneath Wye City and threatening to send the price of foodstuffs up by a few percent. The city's gothic, modernist, and classical towers rose around it, all the way down Mt. Weyr's southern flank. Even the usual staccato of gunfire and shriek of artillery in the Shadowside was suppressed by the downpour.

"Ran, rain, and more rain," Alchemist Li sighed, watching water cascade down the tall windows of his office in The Tower's main spire.

"Alchemist Mira is sending a report," the com on his desk beeped, the azure crystal flashing for a moment.

Li pushed his high-backed chair to face the desk, turning away from the window, tapped the crystal, bringing up three projected displays above his desk. He adjusted his keyboard, which looked like something from nineteenth-century England save that it had several more keys to accommodate the Weyrik alphabet and the additional commands for the kryst'al console.

"Interesting," he muttered after a moment. "Mel, a cup, if you will." he sent to his assistant/secretary/intern. The Grand Alchemist of possibly the most powerful thaumaturgic association in the known multiverse was intrigued. His fingers danced across the brass keys, assigning The Tower's resources to watch that area more closely. He could not act without more information, but something was telling Li that that spot would be important.

"Alchemist Li, ser," a young woman backed into the room, balancing a tray on her white-gloved hand.

Rain began to pour on the fields, forming oceans of mud, which flooded over the crops, weeds, and grass. The constant squishing noise created by the marching soldiers was unbearable to those present. In the distance, the crimson blaze only grew larger. Already, their goals had been met - Total annihilation.




Thomas looked across at his Secretary of Defense. "What in the hell are you talking about?" He screamed, sweat pouring down his face. Only hours earlier, vile creatures calling themselves the Energie Geschöpfe had stormed his home.

"Sir, our militairy is still recovering from the Brackingford war. The damn pascifist bloc won't sacrifice any funding. Effectively, their is no Lethislavanian army." Setting down, the older man sighed. Had his foresight been larger. "Why, sir, did we fund Sabre in the first place?"

Coughing hoarsely, his body rattling, the Chancellor sat down to begin his tale. "It involves many things, I am sure of that. They promised security, we had none. They promised valour, the Nazi's stole that. It's simple, Benjamin, they gave us hope in our nation's darkest times. And now they are coming to take our nation. Benjamin, there is no hope. It's every man for himself." Pulling out a pistol, Thomas Winkling clicked the trigger once, shooting forth a bullet. It struck the head of Benjamin Kaiener, sending him spiraling towards the floor, where blood splattered all over the beige walls.

"Benjamin, there is no faire Lethislavania. There is only survival" He coughed, and spun around on his heel. There was bargaining to be done.


Leninstan cowered in fear, as the remaining militiamen had been beckoned to arrive. This was the final fortress for Lethislavania. The cool, slow rain dribbled down, while the clouds cast a gray aura upon the world.

One could only describe it as somber.

Goddamnit! Ivan Novoski breathed lightly, puffs of light smoke appearing from his mouth, as he kicked open the four by four's door and hastily sprayed the windscreen with ice remover. He cursed again. There were few cars on the road, yet his movement to the Military Base was still hounded by the freezing ice and the ever-present snowstorm. He got back into the car, revving the engine. The sound echoed throughout the empty highway. The four by four chugged along the road, alone. The only thing accompanying the matt-olive land rover was the three MiG's flying high in the sky...

Army Base: Winter
The Land Rover's tyres didn't screech as the snow impedemented the rubber tyres. Instead, it sluggishly pulled in the parking spot and Novoski hopped out, not bothering to lock the door, and swiped his card casually on the security door, nodding to the guards familiarly. He passed several security doors, heading further underground with each swipe of his MAROON class security card. Finally reaching the command room, he found two commanders, a Lieutenant General he did not know the name of, and Union Field Marshall Brentovich.

"Ah, Mr Novoski. You arrive." Brentovich extended a hand, which was met the Minister of War's cold fingers.

"Okay, let's get straight to the point" Novoski said, sitting down on a chair. "Our ally, Lethislavania, is in dire threat. CRSD has picked up pictures of a hostile enemy force, which has been confirmed by the Lethislavanian Socialist Government. While i've submitted this to parliament for a wide-scale deployment, I suggest we move in with minimal force to help the Lethislavanians until Parliament agrees, which they must, to my proposition. A brigade, possibly."

"It's possible." Brentovich stated. "In fact, we could have the planes fueled and in the air in hours. Most of the 14th Airborne Brigade are here. Shall I give the go?"

"Yes, please do. And God Speed." Novoski saluted, and left the room after the brief meeting.

Winter Base Airfield, Five Hours Later
Ka-Chang! the HIR 47 made the characteristic noise after the bolt being pulled back. The 14th Airborne Brigade was checking their equipment before they boarded the planes. The cards flew. Poker was a favourite game of the soldiers based at Winter.

"Go Fish!"

"Idiot. You don't get Go Fish in poker." The soldier whipped out a pistol and pointed it at the mans head.

"You do know" The squad laughed. Behind them, Rocket Artillery was driven carefully into place on the Planes. The fleet was nearly assembled.

Winter Base, Two Hours Later
The last plane took off from the runway with a whoosh, it's engines starting up and the soldiers preparing to sleep for the duration of the flight. The Mig 29's zoomed in and arround the huge air fleet, convering it from all angles. Lethislavania, here we come!

WN3: Weyr Net News Network

PubNet reports confirm recent military action in the Commonwealth of Lethislavania, with questionable military conduct by the private military forces involved in that conflict. Counter and Pro Neo Nazi elements within the High Council have both demanded an immediate invasion to support or depose the local government, respectively. Three duels have terminated in draws thus far. The Weyr First party hs invoked the Earthbound Contract, and the matter is expected to be dropped. The Regent Victoria has made no comment on the matter.

The Diplomatic Service has formally classified the current situation in Lethislavania as a Class 2 military zone, and recommends that visitors within or planning to visit that entity take all possible precautions that are allowed under Lethislavanian laws and regulations.

WN3: Corrupting your mind for four centuries and running

Relevants:
GeoStat No.911D82#7714
Tower ThaumPot report No.9F11


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The Tower, Wye City, Central Pacific, Terra

Thunder crackled outside the diamond windows of the conference room. Diamond was cheaper than stressglass, and held up better to Weyr's acid rain and hurricane winds than Plexiglas and its equivalents. Lightning hit the ancient spire of Council Hall, its flash casting the sixteen magi'i and alchemists around the table into sharp relief.

"The Tower is not a military force. We can't deploy the magi'i into every pisspot nation that's drowning in its own shit. We're not bound under the Earthbound Contract, but that doesn't mean..." the elf was getting redder with every word.

"I am not asking for an invasion," Alchemist Li raised his hand, cutting off Magus Stromberg before he could get up to steam.

"Then what are you asking?"

"That we have the Fourth Colonial help them. They've been itching to test their military. I'd ask the High Guard, but you know how they feel about deploying the Grenadiers into an undeveloped nation," the Grand Alchemist responded calmly, his words producing not a few chuckled. The High Guard was finally getting real funds from the Weyrean government, and suddenly became much pickier about its clients.

"OK. Fourth Colonial can deploy their forces, if they want too. All agreed?" the Weyrean on the opposite end of the circular table asked. There were nods and mutterings of assent.

"Next item on the agenda -- initiating a recruitment campaign in foreign states for study in The Tower," the Grand Alchemist glanced at his small console display, fingers already dancing over the brass keys of his keyboard. Other alchemists and magi'i were bringing up their own console projections, checking the relevant data they had prepared for this case. The Tower's weekly board conference was only beginning.

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Fourth Colonial Prefecture Military District, Terra

Some said that Weyr controlled dozens of systems. Others said Weyr controlled nothing. Both groups were partly right. In any case, the Fourth Colonial prefecture was, for all practical purposes, an independent state, founded by people who believed that technology beyond the early twenty-first century was too dangerous for mere mortals. Some thought the lot were a bunch of psychos, but most Weyreans didn't really care anyway.

"I can't just go into some random nation," the general of Fourth Colonial growled over the phone.

"Why not?" the alchemist on the other end asked.

"Because it's stupid," the general responded. "Get me a reason, and I'll do it. Until then, stop wasting my time."

Natalie slowly got up from the bed, clad in plaid pajamas. She looked over at the spent man.

"Men can become so vulnerable." Pulling out a long, silver knife, she walked into the bathroom. She would wait.

Getting up, John scratched the bak of his head wearily. He saw Natalie was already up. Groggily, he shuffled over to the bathroom, his socks loose and damp. His feet continued forward, in a zombie-like trance, untill his hand grasped the chilled brass of the doorknob. He twisted it slowly, and opened the door.

"Hello, my love." He said, smiling. Natalie was in the bathroom, combing her long, thick black hair.

"Good morning. Any news?" She asked, her dark brown eyes imploring, searching for a hidden answer.

"No, not yet. Havn't called around." He reached over to touch her shoulder, when she pulled out the knife.

"Honey, put that down." He clammered, stepping back a bit.

She grinned. "I'm not stupid. You were planning to kill me. Have me train your pitiful men, screw me, then get rid of me. No, sir, that won't happen." Sliding down, she seductively went up his body, and kissed him. "But this will..." She slid the knife into his neck, then pulled it down to his lung. Blood began to pool out, it's burgundy colour staining the white tile. A sharp contrast, pleasing to the killer. She licked her lips.

Getting up, Natalie stripped off her clothes, throwing them into the marble floor of the bedroom. Walking over to the shower, she swished her hips one last time, then got in to wash off.


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Like a hammer hitting a nail, the constant metallic noise of guns firing bothered him. He watched, breathing in and out, as the far-superior Sabre army sniped out the jumpy militia. He smiled when a suprise bomb flew towards the invading troops.

He turned, and faced Thomas. "Sir, we can't win. Our Secretary of Defense is dead. No one to rally the remaining troops."

Thomas slid over. "We should surrender. Sabre is forgiving. Don't forget, they are Lethislavanians."

The old man looked over at Thomas, the twinkle in his eyes gone. His silver hair seemed to live, it's aura one of dispair. "How could you betray us like that?" The man shouted, spit flying. He pounded the table. "Son, how could you?"

Thomas cackled slyly, and pulled out a gun. "Father, there is much you don't know." After the shot hit, he pulled off his sweater and threw it on his father. He walked out of the room, grinning. The sweater, of course, was property of Sabre Corporation. Much like the Chancellor.

Grand Alchemist's Office, The Tower, Wye City, Central Pacific, Terra

"Spirits, I hate this weather," Magus Stromberg cursed, as thunder cracked outside the diamond windows. "I can't do anything, you understand?" the elf turned to face Li. "Not one f*cking thing. Unless a non-Earthbound nation gets involved, or the idiots produce a thaumaturg, we have no business there."

"I know," the Grand Alchemist nodded. "It's just a feeling that something's not right there. Maybe it's just a hunch, maybe not. I don't know. I'll check with the Diplos if there are any tourists there."

"You do that," Stromberg responded sharply. "I'll have a team on standby just in case, but don't expect miracles."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Leninstan, Lethislavania

Kira never expected miracles, not when her luck was holding up so admirably. Her assignment ended with her having to regrow two legs and an arm. A competing firm attacked the lighter that got her to this miserable planet. Now the place she picked to spend her leave in was suddenly a war zone. The staccato of gunfire was getting annoying -- she could've picked Wye City and listened to its constant clan and corporate wars if she wanted that. Weyr probably didn't even have an embassy in this place, as far as she knew. The redhead muttered something that sounded a lot like a string of curses, adjusted her green duffel bag, and decided to find a place to stay in, wondering if she'd have to use the 'plastic surgery' excuse to explain her long, pointed ears.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Diplomatic Service, the Tower of Kings, Wye City, Central Pacific, Terra

"You think we should set up an embassy there?" Consul-General Gibbs asked incredulously. He normally had his people handle embassy requests, but the Grand Alchemist asking for an embassy in another nation was not something he saw every day.

"Why not? It's not like you don't have the cash..." Li let the words hang.

"They're in the middle of a civil war," Gibbs looked at the alchemist over the rims of his spectacles. "We'd be sending people to get shot."

"You do that anyway," Li shrugged.

"True," Gibbs acknowledged. "Fine. I'll look into the matter. Just don't expect miracles. Tea?" he asked, as a secretary entered with a large tray,.

"Ahh...yes. Thank you."

"A pleasure. So how's the consort?"

The innkeeper swiveled around in his oak chair, looking at the lady who had arriced. The small ceiling and wood panels evoked a sense of old europe, although that might be totally foreign for this stranger.

"Why hello, miss. Ya'need a room 'ere?" He spoke, his speech rich with a odd English-Slavic accent.


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Thunder crackled in the distance, and the fighting had only intensified. However, Sabre began to gain the upper hand. Spiraling missles launched from the black-painted artillary, while giant rumbling tanks rolled into the city, making an incredible lurching noise. Streaks of crimson filled the air as citizens launched flares to warn of the impending force.

The de-moralisation of Lethislavania began at this precise moment. The Church of Our Mother Mary, the crowning achievement of Lethislavanian Architecture, exploded into a burst of bright orange and blue. Pieces of stone flew forth, hurtling towards the ground. Wood splinters shot out, as the bell tower crashed forth. A magnificent blase shot straight up, the crazed fire intensifying. People screamed, as large pillars of rock squished loved ones and crashed upon the buildings.

High Council Chamber, Council hall, Wye City

The three thousand odd councilors were in an uproar, their voices filling the massive hall. Three more duels on the floor put two Weyreans and a dwarf into the hospital. The Margraviate of Hellgate was threatening to secede from the Kingdom. A three-way street fight was developing outside the massive gothic building's front stressglass gates. But this happened every week. The Green Sun Road party produced a compromise -- the marines would deploy into Lethislavania, on some old craft left over from the Gramal incident two hundred years before, and act as peacekeepers. Of course, the Lethislavanian government would have to approve the whole shebang first, but that was a minor detail. The alliances within the High Council shifted slightly, each side plotting to side with or against the two factions in Lethislavania.

To: the Lethislavanian gov’t
From: the Kingdom of Weyr
Subj: military action

Seeing as you currently have a security problem within your nation, we would like to assist you with restoring order and protecting your people from further violence. No state should have its integrity violated to this extent, and we feel that it is the duty of the Kingdom to assist others in times of need. Forces are standing by for your approval.

Sincerely
Regent Victoria li’Paradigm

The message was simple, and to the point, mainly because the High Councilor was too lazy to type more than that.

Leninstan, Lethislavania

Freaky, was Kira's first thought. The place looked like some of the old study rooms in The Tower, except that it didn't have the mutated critters and decimeters of semi-sentient dust.

"Why hello, miss. Ya'need a room 'ere?" He spoke, his speech rich with a odd English-Slavic accent.

"Yes," she nodded, placing her battered and rather worn bag on the floor. "Is it always like this?" she asked absently, pulling out her passport -- a thin booklet that had only the visa stamp of The Tower in it -- and a cashcard -- The Tower paid for all expenses, thankfully.

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The man smiled, his skin wrinkled and olds. His eyes twinkling, he pointed to the stair. "Ah, missah, ya room is up there." He slid the card back, and smiled again. "What in Hezzebuhs name is goin' un ut there?" He asked, wearily.

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Helping us? You idiots.
To do so would be an invasion of our nation.

-Thomas Winkling, Chancellor

Yes, thanks. We need help soon.

-Ariana DeSoto, Prime Minister

Earthbound Military District, Weyr, Central Pacific

The first Masaki-5 transport lifted off the permacrete runway, buffeted by hurricane-force winds. The pilot muttered a thanks to whomever put repulse drives onto the turboprop craft and made it more or less safe to fly in such weather. It wasn't a pretty craft, but it was big, and if no one was watching it could land vertically. The first marine battalion of the first marine brigade was on its way, escorted by three wings of Black Tiger interceptors. Brigadier General Markowitz decided not to worry about anyone asking how those interceptors could stay in the air for so long.

To: Ariana DeSoto, Prime Minister
From: Brigadier General Markowitz
Re: Military

What is the closest airport/landing facility available to the current front lines or their equivalent?

Leninstan, Lethislavania

"Someone blowing something up," Kira responded. "Thanks." she shouldered her bag, and wondered if the place was going to catch fire while she slept. Maybe sleeping in her clothes was a good idea today....

Ariana sat in her large leather chair waiting for the response from Weyr, when a massive blow knocked her door down. She spun around in her chair, her teeth clenched, her face sweating. In her way stood Thomas Winkling, the Chancellor. Sighing, she gave a passive movement of her pale white hand, pointing him to a chair across the desk. "Hello, Thomas." She spoke, her voice gravelly and aged since the fighting had began. Gracefully, he walked over and sat down slowly, as though he was not sure of the safety of the chair.

"Ariana, buen evinada. Why'd you do it?" He asked, wearily. His blonde hair was distraught, each strand going off in different directions. Bloodshot, his eyes gave a visage of madness.

She glared back. "Did what?" She asked, her coldy blue eyes contemplating this bloody wretch.

"Let them damn Weyrians in." He grimaced, almost puking at the thought of the snobbish beings.

"I'm protecting the damn country, you fool!" She screamed, her vocal chords aching with pain. She pushed papers off her desk, and stood up. "Where are the rest of the cabinet members? They're all dead. Right after talking to you." She ended the sentence with particular poison, her chest rising up and down with large breaths.

"Ah, I see you figured out my secret." A shimmer of cold gray appeared, and Thomas whipped out his gun. Ariana, however, had the quicker hand and snatched the gun, violently twisting his wrist.

"You idiot. You forget I served 10 years with the LSP." She grinned, her eyes full of revenge and malice. Her once finely-pressed shirt was distraught and soiled with sweat, the sweat of worry.

Click.

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Thank you for your support during these dark and troubled times.
I suggest you land at Greater Leninstan militairy base, where we still
have 100 percent control, and the chance of any suprise attacks are low.
I shall meet you there.

Ariana DeSoto, Prime Minister and Chancellor

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The inn was actually rather comfy, and the room was no exception. It had old-style hospital bed, on wood frames, and was covered in a silk cover, dyed blue. The bathroom had an old shower, one of the high-pressure nozzles. It also had a very large closet and a wonderful window granting a great view of the city below.

OOC: Yes, I know the following descrip stinks.

Greater Leninstan militairy base

As a rapid deployment force, the First Brigade carried everything it thought it would need to operate along with it. The first hundred odd soldiers marched out of the second transport's caverous interior, weapons at their sides. Very few could have thought of them as human, unless humans were over seven feet tall and had glowing green eyes. Of course, the people inside the bulky armor were of average height and build, and the green lights were just for show, but the idea was to intimidate, not to look nice and happy.

"So we're supposed to be met by an Ariana DeSoto, Prime Minister and Chancellor," Major General Markowitz checked a heavy printout. He was on the first transport down, along with most of the headquarters company.

Leninstan, Lethislavania

"Wow," Kira dropped her bag on the floor, after making sure the door was closed. First stop -- the shower.

A small lady, with deep brown eyes, dark brown hair, and very curvy body walks up to the large armor-clad man. Gulping, she smiles and begins to talk. "Hello, sir, my name is Ariana DeSoto. I'm really glad you guys could c-come." By this point, sweat is forming on her face, and her eyes shift back and forth, weary of any attack.

“Glad to be here, m’am” Markowitz has to literally look down at the speaker. His trained, gray eyes quickly match the woman’s face with the one in the dossier – which is essentially all the info command has on the Lethislavanian government, and he extends his armored hand in greetings. Unlike many of the soldiers, his helm’s faceplate is retracted. “So what’s the story?” He wonders what the girl’s afraid of.

Ariana pulls her shaking hand up steadily, her face still unsure. "Um... Er..." Suddenly, reason grabs a hold of her, and she twitches back. "Ah. Well, the previous Chancellor had been running a private militairy company, using swindled government fund. Finally, he had the audactiy to invade his homeland. So we're now stuck here."

“Private army? Right,” the major general thinks for a moment. “I’ll need to speak with your military commanders first, before anything else happens.”


Once again, she appears unsteady. "There infact lies the problem. Although we have a militairy, most of the leaders have either been killed or have defected to Sabre. Therefore, I am in command of the Lethislavanian army. Don't underestimate me, I was a member of the LSP before I ran for office." She smiled and waited for a response.

Markowitz is already beginning to wonder about the sanity of all this. Politicians have never made decent military leaders, at least in his experience. Then again, he’s got to work with what he’s got. “I’ll need whatever intel data you got, and a place to set up command. You know your forces best, so what’s your current position?”

She smiled. 'So, you think I'm a dirty politician.' She looked down at a piece of paper and looked around. "Okay, first of all, you have the whole militairy complex here to use. As for our forces, we sucessfully made a push today forcing the enemies out of the city, giving us a full covered perimeter. However, they are about to launch a massive artillery blast, as well as laucnh a second wave of soldiers. We have about 23,000 militia men left, as well as the bombers here at the base. I'm sorry, but most of our equipment is being used against us."

“You covered the infrastructure access routes, I assume?” the general inquired absently. His eyes flickered for a moment, contacting the rest of his command staff. They had the base, and a small team would soon be moving to set up a communications and control center in a good spot. A neural link was annoying at times, but it helped to rapidly get things moving. “Do you have any ideas where they will attack?” he asked after the silent pause. “We’ll have to coordinate out forces when they do.”


"Okay," She smiled. "I'll speak with my associates and talk to you at 1500 hours." She quickly walked off, tired and lonely.