NationStates Jolt Archive

Port Olympus, Arx Center

Lt. General Abraham Park would always remember that call. It was a typical day in the center, well somewhat typical. A foreign delegation from Macisikan had left less then forty eight hours before but now a diplomat from Ilek-Vaad had arrived with a whole mess of local problems. Buy in the Shades, twit… passed through his head as he monitored the massive map of Port Olympus that took up most of the floor space on this level. The little tags that marked both the Speaker of Parliament and the…what was it. For a nation that didn't have a nobility the certainly had a lot of knights and titles.

"Sir?" A voice called down from the ring of workstations that surrounded the central two-story space of the Center.
The center was a bunker long ago built by the Vrakians for some purpose. Which meant that the humans and their equipment didn't have much problem for space. Although altering the massive concrete structure had proved difficult when the Joint Defense Force had moved in.

"Yes…Sir we just got a call from Quincy…

Quincy Mining one of those multi-faceted corporations that had built up a reputation locally as a good, large scale construction firm and for having a reliable mercenary service. Not a bad thing in this city with the Vrakians at two different borders. The General's thoughts were cut short.

"They say they have the Landgravine at five Temple Benji Square and she was just injured, sounds serious…."

"Call her security detail damn it…where the hell are they!"

Landgravine Hubris, Outer Consul of the Federation, heir to the throne of the United Duchies and the General's boss was one of the most powerful people in the Federation. The one person who by every possible means at her disposal had kept the Federation from either falling apart or turning into a massive fratricide.

"Well her detail just went on panic sir…She vanished out of her office again."

"F***,….fine…I am announcing an Emergency Code Bravo Delta Seven Seven Seven…someone contact all the keys. And get me a line to General O'Booze immediately. Scramble the ready response team and send it down there. Get a patch into Quincy's systems now…Go people go!"

The General could not hear what the city and the world was hearing, the city sirens calling out a warning.

OOC: Klatchian States only may take action at the moment, although other nation's intelligence services, if they have anyone in Port Olympus (the Federal Government doesn't have any formal embassy's with foreign governments yet)

edit: Klatchian Timeline note: This occurs after the Mackisikan negotation thread, after the incident in Deylli Beybi (by about a month or so) and the elf thread and Neo Tyr Regency annoucement

Cocurrent with:Vaadian Constitutional Debate, Santa Barbra Thread Any others as stated by the various hosts.

Sorry for not pointing that out earlier.

Lord Harrington was enjoying his tea when an exceedingly young Royal Guardsman knocked on the door as he entered.

"Your Grace, we have a problem!" the 2nd Lieutenant reported as he handed the older man a message.

Harrington quickly read and then stood up quickly. "My god!" he gasped quietly. "Lieutenant, let the other Keys know, and get me Captain Winters. I will be in the communications center."

a few moments later a satcom message was on its way to Regina, the capital of New Shiron and to the Queen.

FLASHFLASHFLASH EYES ONLY QUEEN GABRIELLE PRIORITY IMMEDIATE
Signit traffic, which has been confirmed by FKC governmental information, reports that the Landgravine Hubris has been injured, perhaps gravely by hostile fire from an unknown source. Strong possiblity that it was an intentional assassination attempt. Note also earlier reports of FKC JDF forces and Dyelli Byebi forces involved in an armed clash in Dyebi Byebi. Note also visit of Ilek Vaad senior officials in Port Olympus this date.

Will provide updates as they become available. Have ordered other Keys to remain at New Shiron diplomatic compound.

Reports of gunfire and explosions in the city of Port Olympus as well but no solid information on why.

Respectfully,
Lord Harrington, Senior Key of the Delegation of New Shiron

Somewhere in Vrak...

Translated from Vrakian.

-And here, we shall...

[Suddenly, a red light blinked. Concerned, the Intelligence Director depressed it and a soft voice began. On one side of the room, a panel slide open, revealing a large flatscreen television. Multiple images were displayed.]

Emergency message from Port Olympus. The Landgravine has been hurt, although injuries are unknown.

-Very well. Let the JDF do their job to secure the area. Find General O'Booze and make sure he is in a safe place. Lockdown Parliament. Ring that city - now.

====

Port Olympus was, after all, within the state territory of Vrak. While it often looked the other way regarding how the city ran itself, it was charged with protecting it from outside attack. And, with the recent events, it seemed that the possibility jumped exponentially.

An entire battalion of tanks rumbled to life, with a FULL strength brigade providing escort. Overhead, a group of fighter jets flew towards the city and would begin to maintain an air cover. Elsewhere, a group of attack helicopters were being loaded while all troops were being informed of possible urban combat.

The Shadows were the first to intercept the goings on. They had been monitoring The Nachxa with their 'agent' and had seen just about everything through the watchful eyes of the tactical computers that The Nachxa's staff had been carrying.

The First Republican was briefed along with the Supreme Republican Commander.

"It appears that someone has attempted to assassinate The Nachxa and has instead injured the Landgravine of Hubris, we have our suspicions , but nothing solid as of yet. Agent Aldred is reporting that a Vrakian company called Utical may be behind it, but we aren't certain at this time."

The First Republican nodded "And where is The Nachxa?"

"He is at the home of the Speaker of the Klatchain Parliament and is completely safe at this time."

The First Republican nodded "That's a good thing." he paused and turned to the Supreme Republican Commander "Adan, what do you think?"

"It would be wise to prepare a Red Jaguar Battalion in case The Nachxa requires extraction, which could be done easily by air, considering how close Port Olympus is to the Republic of Lacon. It may be prudent to activate a few armies, just in case." Commander Ring replied.

The First Republican nodded "Go ahead then, activate what you deem appropriate, keep in close contact with the Shadows and keep me informed. Let's not do anything unless The Nachxa asks, or is attacked."

*****

In Tollan the 4th Red Jaguar Command were activated and on jets within minutes headed to the city of Laconia in the Republic of Lacon.

The Queen hastily dried herself of with a towel and listened to a her assistant Greta as she briefed her hurriedly. Nearby a young Guards Officer was trying valiantly to pretend that the Queen wasn't wearing a dripping wet lycra swimsuit and wasn't a beautiful woman and that he wasn't going to blush.

"Oh shit." Gabrielle muttered. "Ok, has Harrington reported anything else yet?"

"No your majesty, but Intelligence is reporting that some Vrak armored forces are moving toward Port Olympus, and there is some evidence that Ilek Vaad is going on military alert."

"Anybody else doing anything scary yet?"

"No your majesty. Not yet."

"Oh I am sure they will. Our neighbors are a jumpy bunch at the best of times, and Neo Tyr has shown that finess isn't exactly a strong suit either." she said grimly as she put on her robe.

Nearby, Captain Nixon mentally sighed in relief and hoped she wouldn't notice his blush. Her husband scared the shit out of him frankly.

"I want a meeting of the Privy Council in one hour. We need to figure out what to do. Contact them all, and be damned sure to tell the military to remain on peacetime footing for now. We don't want anyone to think we are mobilizing just in case they get the wrong idea."

The first thought that entered O'Booze's head when he heard the news was oh sh!t... This was because Lunchtime O'Booze wasn't stupid. People trusted the Landgravine (God alone knew why), but they didn't trust the balding portly Dyellian Commander of the Armed Forces. He also knew that at moments of instability people tried things, like insurrection. He should know. He'd done it in Dyelli Beybi. The news reached O'Booze quickly, nearly as quickly as it reached the JDF. This was because, being a Dyellian O'Booze had his own personal network of informers in the city as well as backup from the Cheka (who watched the Landgravine very closely).

O'Booze was in his office, and he'd be damned if he moved for anyone. He was the Inner Consul of the Federation, "You, Cheka fellow with the funny hat, tell Felix I won't be negotiating any deals to do with buying hardware until a reasonable time has passed."

"But the Chief Constable hasn't rung yet." the Commisaar protested.

"He will, and he'll be tying to peddle those Model 3 tanks again, and as much as I'm sure the JDF would love our outdated machienry, if I buy it off him right now, it might make me look a bit suspicious."

"Sir, got a Lieutenant General Park on the line." this one was a local aide.

"Park? Sounds like a Leeanan, he's not from former Evilphsychotic guy? ...Tell him I'll be right with him, also get someone to send out a memo telling people we view the event as an accident at this time. I'll be damned, if we have Special Forces from every State in the Federation combing this place for terrorists that don't even exist."

"Shall I patch him through now?"

"Go." O'Booze's telephone rang, he let it ring twice, then picked it up, "Lieutenant General Park?"

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

Felix Dzerzhinsky was most unhappy at the implication that he was using the Landgravine's accident as an excuse to peddle second rate vehicles to the JDF. OK, he had been planning it, from the moment he'd heard, but it still wasn't for the General to level such accusations...

"Shall we crack open the champagne then?" it was Commisaar Reilly who was opposite Dzerzhinsky this time.

Several years, Dzerzhinsky's junior, Reilly had plotted to grab his Senior's job, and failed. Dzerzhinsky had been tempted to have the man killed, but he was important, and he was a good spy, "Ding dong the witch is dead? Let's wait until she's actually snuffed it, we shouldn't celebrate prematurely. I sense we're in for a bit of trouble though."

"You didn't get Six to do this?" Reilly sounded like he thought this was highly probable.

"No." Dzerzhinsky dismissed the idea with a scowl, "If the Landgravine gets bumped off, it creates instability. That means people might finally find their excuse to get rid of that funny bunch of Socialists on the South Coast. They would definantely have their excuse if Six was found to be involved."

"So what do you need me for?" Reilly asked.

"You're head of Three, I want you to recommend to Mister Collins and to all the relevant Generals that we immediately mobilise border forces to defensive positions."

"I'll get right onto it."

Dyelli Beybi was mobilising to repel invasion...

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

From: The Offices of the Inner Consul of the Federation
To: All State Governments of the Federation
Subject: The Outer Consul
It has probably come to your attention that the Outer Consul has been seriously injured. We do not believe at this stage, that this has been an assassination attempt, rather an aweful accident. We trust the Landgravine will remain in your prayers.
- Generalfeldmarshall Lunchtime O'Booze
Inner Consul

Gabrielle sat at the head of the table as an aide updated the council on latest developments. Her privy council, the heads of the New Shiron Military forces, the leaders of the two largest political parties, and some key departmental officials could tell she was not in a good mood.

"Well Gentlemen and Ladies, any ideas? It appears Dyelli Byebi is mobilizing now, the Consul from that same nation is telling us that its just a terrible accident, and nobody has bothered to brief the FKC parliament to tell them and by extension, us, what is going on? Have I missed anything?"

Matt Ridgeway, the Minister of Defense was the first to answer. "No your majesty, that pretty much sums it up. On the plus side, nothing worse has happened yet, and nobody seems to have started shooting yet so maybe this will blow over?"

"And if it doesn't Matt?"

"Well, its a good thing we have a pretty solid defense against nuclear attack and that we have a strong military. We may need it."

Gabrielle nodded. At least there was that, and of course, her husbands people, the Lords of War. She felt reasonably confident that she could depend on their help if New Shiron was actually attacked, although her people would have to return the favor if the reverse occured.

"Mister Chase, how is the 'Cynthia Alderson' doing?"

Chase, an older man in his 60s rose to respond. "Last reports are that things are going well, and equipment malfunctions have been minimal. We have one of the shuttles ready to launch once she finishes refueling at Jupiter, and they will conduct repairs before she jumps out of the system."

"Good. Gentlemen and ladies, no matter what, we have to make sure we survive this mess if it blows up at least for another two years. We must have the proper current coordinates for New Cynthia for the remainder of the project to be carried through. If the worst occurs it will be the only hope for at least a nucleus of our people to survive. Our fellow Klatchians use anti matter as a weapon, and can any of us feel confident in the safety of our people with that hanging over our heads?

I don't care what it takes, we must ensure we have sufficient time to carry this project through. Mr. Chase, I want you to hurry with construction for the rest of the fleet. You project will have the hightest priority from now one. Ms. Norwood, and Mr. Langham, I am impressing upon you how critical funding is for this and how important it is that it clears through Parliament without inconvenient questions or any delays."

The two political leaders, and the head of the Space Ministry nodded in response.

With that, Gabrielle stood up, followed shortly by all of the others. "Ok, we will meet again this time tomorrow. Maybe the Landgravine will survive and this will be just a hiccup. Good day."

*tag*

message from the Chief of Security, New Shiron MP Compound in Port Olympus to the Office of the Queen, New Shiron.

"The Keys have been moved to a secure location by FKC personnel per pre existing security plan. The Compound has been sealed except for necessary deliveries and urgent diplomatic business as per New Shiron security plan. Further news as it develops.

Signed
Captain Damien Winters, 1/4 Parachute Regiment, Royal Guard

Office of the Lord Tengil, Tengil Palace, Katla, Karmanyaka

Lord Tengil Johann Kader had only been ruler for two days and he and his assistants were still unpacking the boxes and crates in his new office when the news reached him.

"Sir, urgent news from Port Olympus! The Landgravine has been seriously injured and things are getting complicated, to say the least." The messenger was a council functionary in her thirties and her hair was on end after the short run to the Lord Tengil's office. "The Knights have been informed and are ready to assemble."

Kader frowned and hesitantly took the paper offered to him. It was a message from Inner Consul O'Booze whith a somewhat nervous tone.

"Hmm, this doesn't look good. Not good at all. It might mean trouble." He sighed. "Assemble the Council immediately and bring me the Military Command." He had hoped to get settled in the palace before having to deal with anything to do with the FKC, and here he was thrown into events that could mean conflicts between the states.

--

The Council Halls, Katla

The twenty Knights of the Council rose as the Lord Tengil entered, his black and purple cloack fluttering behind him. He signalled them to si down.

"Gentlemen, welcome to this emergency meeting. As you have all heard, we have a... shall we say, 'situation' in Port Olympus, which has already spread to the rest of the Klatch. I've brought Commander-in-Chief, Fieldmarshall Sir Nicholas Grune. What's the current situation, Fieldmarshall?"

The Fieldmarshall stood up and bowed. "Thank you, my Lord. The situation is indeed grave. There have been military preparations in most Klatchian states. Vrak is moving in on Port Olympus and we're pretty sure Ilek-Vaad, Dyelli Beybi and Alcona and Hubris are planning things too. New Shiron seems calm, but our intel is rather uncertain at the moment."

"What do you propose?" asked the Minister of Justice.

"I suggest we mobilize our defences, put our coastal and air defence systems on high alert. The air force will be on stand by and the army is moving to protect our borders. We should primarily concentrate on the southern coast towards Vrak, Port Olympus and the Monte Ozarka territories of and the western coast towards the Lords of War. The navy will be on alert too, of course."

"What about the border to Ilek-Vaad?" asked another Knight.

"We don't consider Ilek-Vaad a threat for the moment, but we should strengthen our forces at the northern border too, just as a precaution." said Minister of Defence, sir Olav Besk. "And Midlonia and the others haven't moved yet."

"The 1st and 2nd Heavy Dragoons have been moved into Katla and the airport." said Grune.

"We must proceed with caution. Being the smallest state in the FKC, Karmanyaka could very well be overrun by almost any other state." Lord Tengil reminded. "We will await the actions of our neighbors. We may expect our coastal defences to be hard put at if it comes to war, so let us hope things stay calm."

"Another thing," said Foreign Minister Henry Pommer. "aparently they have moved the Keys to a compound in Parliament Hill. Our entire delegation is already being loaded onto a corvette outside the harbour to be brought back to Karmanyaka. But the Keys are currently beyond our reach and we haven't been able to contact them. We are also trying to find other Karmanyakan citizens in Port Olympus in order to bring them back safely.

--

On the cliffs above the Bay of Lunacy and in the vast marshes of the Karmanyakan coast of Lake Olympus the coastal artillery was being tuned in and tested. Radarstations and command centrals were manned and tanks and trucks rolled south. To many of the larger Klatchian states it might have looked like a mouse flexing its muscles, but then again, the Klatchian swamp mouse has been known to kill rottweilers...

_

Command General Lucane landed in Lacon with his two thousand Red Jaguar Command. He walked down the ramp of the Marathon Transport and was met by General Nival Shura of the Leopards army.

Lucane raised his fist in the Defiant Salute of the Retaliatory Guard "Status General Shura?"

General Shura saluted back "Supreme Republican Commander Ring has put the Leopards, the Levelers , the Fists of Vaad and the Twisted Serpent on alert here. We have also put the Son House Corvette groups in the Sea of Lacon on alert and the Tactical Groups Revenge, Emperor Itzcoatl and Ismaili Al Assa have been on 'active patrol'."

Lucane nodded "So, we're sitting around waiting."

General Shura smiled "Yes sir."

Lucane nodded "Let's keep the Martahon's on stand by in case we need to extract The Nachxa, other than that, let's just keep an eye on things."

General Shura nodded "Yes sir. It does look like Karmanyaka looks to be putting their defences on alert."

Lucane shrugged "Well good. I understand they have purchased some Thunderer II MBT's , maybe they'll get to test them live? Keep border security and defences as they are. I seriously doubt that Karmanyaka is involved with The Nachxa's assissination attempt. It's probably Utical or Midlonia or maybe even the DDR."

The men nodded and headed to the Officer's Lounge to relax, until they were needed.

As things began to settle down, an excited murmur began to spread across Dyelli Beybi. Dyelli Beybi had noticed their was now only one Consul to convince to buy their rubbish, and he was a Dyellian.

Already the Navy had set aside the "Vrak", probably the worst Battleship in the entire world, for sale. The Vrak was coal powered, and incredibly slow. It was also notably unseaworthy... and had so little armour on the deck, that firing the cannons damaged it. It seeed like the perfect way to get rid of the slowly decaying hunk of metal.

It also seemed like the best way to get rid of several thousand unwanted tanks. The Model 3 series wasn't a bad tank. It was a little lacking on the electronics front, but it wasn't bad, it just wasn't particularly good either. If the Army had anything to do with it, the JDF would soon be just about entirely equipped with Dyelli Beybi's unwanted vehicles. Unfortunately for them, O'Booze was still holding out and refusing to buy until 'reasonable time' had passed.

Arx Center

Parks was a little surprised that the Outer Consul knew who was on duty. "Ah yes sir the Landgrave....Oh you know sir. Yes sir. Ah we have the helio's on route now sir....you were the first one I called sir. Ah yes sir...Are you comming over here sir?"

Or going to that 8 billion krondor command bunker below your office? popped into the General's head. Really he thought O'Booze was a bit snappish.

As Parks hung up the phone he looked about, "Did someone notify the Checka about this before me?" The room gave him a blank look.

"Place a call to the President's Office." How in the hell did the Deyllians find out so friken fast. I mean, what the blast was less than ten minutes ago...

The Arx

Two hundread and ten feet above Park's head the massive flying rescue rotodyene came in for a landing. She had several wounded passengers including the Landgravine. The three critical patients from the attack were hauled off before the rotors stopped moving and pushed down the reinforced concrete corridor to the Emergency Hospital built into part of the old palace fortress that had become delapitated over the previous centuries.

Port Olympus
The LAV's of the Parliamentary Police ran down streets that had suddenly become somewhat quiet. Not everyone was obeying the law, cars were driving about. People were walking...but it was much lighter traffic as the Parliamentary Police ran out into the city to find all of the missing Keys and take them to the Key's Club on Parliament Hill. If things did get worse, well they would have easy access to the underground bunkers.

Cenotaph Hill
The grand homes of the city elite were just simply cut off by several armed vehicles. Those Keys, including the Speaker, who lived there were considered fairly safe at the moment in the isolated community that existed above the city. But just to be sure helicopters began to make sweeps of the long, high hill to look for anyone 'out of place'.

Herzog Island, The United Duchies

Alexander III, Grand Duke of the United Duchies took an early morning stroll with his wife Kathrine. They were walking along a garden path thorough the pecan orchard that stood on the southwestern bluffs above the Inner Sea. Kathrine leaned her head against his shoulder as they watched the younger couple before them. "You know I don't think we were that affectionate as newlywed..."

Kathrine was cut off by the sound of an approaching electric vehicle cut her short. The young staff officer jumped off and handed his monarch a small phone. As Alexander III took it to his ear. "Yes....Oh, dear...my God no..."

The ruler paled and looked at his wife. Kathrine wondered what was wrong. Then Alexander looked at her and whispered the news into her ear. Some say her scream of anquish could be heard all the way in Port Olympus itself.

Gabrielle's husband Thomas was out in the one of the Palace Gardens looking at the flowers and admiring the fountain that was bubbling here. The eight foot tall Var bodyguard was thinking about something else, but in New Shiron only Thomas ever pried into a Var's affairs.

Thomas held a small digital unit in his hand. A beep and the screen flashed, showing the three teired writing system of the Var. "Well that is good...and bad...damn it." He held it up to his mouth and spoke something in the odd lanquage of his native land.

In reality, things were far more difficult for Thomas and his wife. The Landgravine was his aunt. Her death would mean that Thomas, and his children, Gabrielle's children would be one step closer to becoming the most dominant Royal Family in the Klatch since the Dellyian Tzars.

Thomas turned as he heard the sound of feet crunching on the garden path.

Gabrielle retired to her bedroom for the evening. She was irritable, and a bet stressed. It occured to her that a dynastic marriage may actually have put her nation at risk. It depends if the Landgravines "accident" was really an accident or someone gunning for the heir to Alcona and Hubris.

Time to speak to her husband. Perhaps he would have some ideas, or at least some information.

Besides, she wanted to pass on the good news about the "Sharon Alderson" and its successfully refueling at Jupiter.

O'Booze was becoming more and more concerned with the State of affairs, "I will not in fact be leaving my Office." he notified Park, "Have you got someone down in Quincy Mining, finding out exactly what went on?"

"...OK, this is my standpoint. This is not some major orchestrated invasion. It was either a pinpoint assassination attempt or an accident, my information is sketchy, either way, we scarcely need to round up all the Keys and shove them into nuclear bunkers. We aren't facing Armageddon. What I am more worried is that we may be causing panic in the Federation. I'm charging you with making sure that their isn't a widescale panic over this incident. From what I've seen so far, we're responding like we've just spotted the combined United Emirates bomber Wings all bearing in on us. You need to maintain some sense of perspective."

O'Booze was determined to remain calm, no matter what. After finishing the call to the General, he snapped his fingers at a passing Cheka agent, "You! Find out who's running the informant, I need to find out exactly what they saw. 'The Landgravine is seriously hurt' isn't going to cut the mustard for much longer."

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

The Cheka were mobilising as well. Dormant cells were activated, while they busily scoured for information as to what the other States were up to. The movements in Ilek-Vaad were noted. Commisaar Alwood (who was currently assigned to look after the Vaadian foreign Legion in Dyelli Beybi) sent a message (to be conveyed as soon as possible), as were the local Dyellian garrison Commanders.

(OOC: I'll try to merge the two threads asap.)

Port Olympus, north end

At the north end of Port Olympus, the first column of armour could be discerned. Twenty T-90 main battle tanks rumbled along the road, taking care not to break it up at high speeds. Accompanying them were various anti-tank and anti-air systems along with hundreds of troop. The first troop truck pulled up to the nearest checkpoint and disgorged the heavily armed troops. An officer flashed his ID and a piece of paper at the parliamentary police. A flatbed truck with sandbags pulled up and was being unloaded. Essentially, a machine gun nest would be built along with a temporary forward command post.

Overhead, some 25 troop transport helicopters made their way directly towards the Presidential Palace. They were to secure that area, find the president (if he was there) and wait for the rest of the tanks.

The air screen remained in effect and the jets would move to intercept any intruders.

Updated reports were sent back to the High Command, who pondered the next move.

====

Vrak Prime

As for the FKC president, the message sent to him was screened by the Intelligence Director who answered the call from Parks.

Port Olympus

The old fashioned air raid siren had screamed into life within the Midlonian quarter, the powerful arms behind it spinning it faster and faster until, eventually they gave up and let it spin and run out of its own steam.

Civil Protection APC’s and men had burst into life. Concrete slabs had been dragged across the roads in the sector, aside from vehicles that did not belong there anyway, there was not much traffic grumbling along the roads.

‘Tanks!’ yelled a soldier Barricade #022.
‘Someone indent them!’ yelled another.
‘Can’t see their Ident, I don’t know what they are.’ Yelled a spotter at the top of a small building, he continued to peer through the binoculars.
‘Assume to be hostile, if they get within 300 yards, open fire on them’
‘Sir! I can see the Vrakian flag on the lead tank!' The spotter cried happily.
'Stand down! Stand Down! Get the barriers out of the way and let them through!' Cried the squad's leader, as others began to call in the APC's to drag them out of the way.

OOC: I thought the President never left Vrak Prime anymore?

The Northwest 'Gate'

The main highway from Vrak, (there were three, one from the north called the Shore Highway, one from the West along the Fasta river, and this one parrallel to a rail line as it entered the city.) had a back up of cars on it. Mainly people who had been driving out of the city, or into the city before the checkpoint that marked the boundry of the Federal District from Vrak.

The member of the city watch looked at the paper the Vrakian held up, shrugged and went inside his booth to tell Arx Center what was up. The cars that had been protesting with car horns turned and headed back towards the city. One could make it out rising behind the 1897 line of defensive bunkers that surrounded the city and it's suburbs.

[/b]Arx Center[/b]
Parks Finishing his conversation with O'Booze

"Ah yes sir...they are in contact with the Center and we have the emergency response team on the site and securing it."

"Ah, yes sir I will...it is just standard proceedure to stop all traffic and locate all key individuals. All of the Keys in the city are being taken to the Club sir. And that was just an emergency take shelter signal sir...not the air attack or nuke attack signal."

As Parks hung up and thought about the fact that the Deyllians knew that it was a pin-point assassination before he did? Well Parks father had been a loyal Vrakian, and part of him was also.

He picked up the line with the Intelligence Director and swithed into his
-Sir, This is Lieutenant General Parks of Arx Center.

-My Lord, I wish to report that there has been a serious incident with the Landgravine of Hubris. She has been apparently badly injured in an attack and was flown to the secure military hospital here. I have not received any information on her condition as of yet. Also several wounded Vaadians were transported with her.

He paused again
-I should also inform you that General O'Booze has assured me this was either an accident or a pin-point assasination attempt. And that he knew about the attack before I contacted him, or before we had any personel on the scene. In fact her own security detail didn't know where she was at the time.

The Checka, the friken Checka did this to seize control...bastards

The Emergency Room
Eight doctors poured over the still body of Victoria Crawford. X-rays were taken and she was taken down the hall for an emergency cat scan.

The wounded Vaadians were also diagnosed and treated.

Abby of QMC went directly to surgery to repair her lung and drain the blood out of it.

The Key Club, Parliament Hill

As the Keys found themselves in the five story version of a luxury gentlemen's club and hotel they had built for themselves. The consiarge was informing them in small groups that tommorrow at eight sharp they were to hold an emergency session of Parliament upon the Speaker's orders.

The City
Elsewhere rumors began to circulate people began to hear that the Landgravine was dead, dismembered, or now a complete vegitable. Some felt anger, some felt sorrow, some felt utter joy, and some felt it was time to demand independence.

Gabrielle retired to her bedroom for the evening. She was irritable, and a bet stressed. It occured to her that a dynastic marriage may actually have put her nation at risk. It depends if the Landgravines "accident" was really an accident or someone gunning for the heir to Alcona and Hubris.

Time to speak to her husband. Perhaps he would have some ideas, or at least some information.

Besides, she wanted to pass on the good news about the "Sharon Alderson" and its successfully refueling at Jupiter.

Thomas wandered into their suite twenty minutes later. He looked down at the beauty that he had found himself married and kissed her with with the passion that he had found for this amazing woman.

"Well dear, I know you heard about the attack. But my sources tell me it looks like she suffered only minior internal injuries accept to the head, those appear severe and she may be in a coma."

He sat down next to one of the windows. "I am sure we'll get a family annoucement before a formal one out of the medical center she is in..." He looked out across the view and pondered history again. Unlike his wife, Thomas was an absolute monarch and had been on the throne since age five. The fact that this was a 'family affair' likely worried his new wife. Dynastic marriages always had problems that other marriages didn't face. But then there were seldom arguements about interfering mother-in-laws either.

Jonathon Tocatl had been clobbered, but not so much by the explosion, but by his two hundred pound plus body guards and their sixty pounds of body armour. Concussion, broken ribs, lacerations, broken wrist and a ringing in his ears was what greeted him as he awoke.

He winced as he took a deep breath and looked around " What, what, happened?"

The injured Jaguar fared much worse, as they had made no attempt to go for cover, but had moved towards the explosions, using their own bodies to block the concussion and shrapnel from the missle. One was mortally wounded and unconscious, the doctors quickly saw that he had been directly between the blast and Jonathon Tocatl and his body was a mess of shrapnel and it was only a matter of time before he died.

The other was lacerated and concussed , with several gaping wounds, but was stable, and awake and quite jovial as he arrived at the hospital. He obligingly removed his own armour, undoing it's complicated latches for the nurses, winking at them through his bloodied visage. He seemed to not even comprehend his wounds . He seemed more concerned for others.

"Surely , you shouldn't waste time on this dead meat, Doctor." he said motioning to himself " There have to be others more injured than me? I can wait for the next doctor if you have more pressing matters." he laughed, pausing to spit out blood and a couple of teeth.

"I have had worse!" The doctor and nurses believed it, his body was covered with old healed scars.

Thomas wandered into their suite twenty minutes later. He looked down at the beauty that he had found himself married and kissed her with with the passion that he had found for this amazing woman.

"Well dear, I know you heard about the attack. But my sources tell me it looks like she suffered only minior internal injuries accept to the head, those appear severe and she may be in a coma."

He sat down next to one of the windows. "I am sure we'll get a family annoucement before a formal one out of the medical center she is in..." He looked out across the view and pondered history again. Unlike his wife, Thomas was an absolute monarch and had been on the throne since age five. The fact that this was a 'family affair' likely worried his new wife. Dynastic marriages always had problems that other marriages didn't face. But then there were seldom arguements about interfering mother-in-laws either.

"My advisors are telling me that already some of the Klatchian states are overreacting" Gabrielle said firmly, "will O'Booze hold things together while we find out if she can resume her duties? I know that is a bit heartless, but I suspect SHE would be worried about such things. Who can replace her if it is needed? We will need to consider such things." Softening her tone she went over to her husband. "But for now, let us put our worries aside."

Thomas just chuckled, "Mav would say that every state wants one of their own on the council and are going to fight to get someone there. The problem is that the Chancellor has been dead for two years, Parliament still can't get the Electors to elect a new one. And the fact that the Landgravine has almost ruled by default these last few years hasn't helped."

He turned towards his wife. "We are seriously in need of leadership but the President is...well becoming less rational with age. No one is going to pick a fight with the Var. And no one is going to pick a fight with New Shiron, your too far from the center of gravity. And the only state with a major projection style fleet is the United Duchies. And their not over reacting are they? Now what else would you like to talk to er...what is my damn title in here again? Prince Consort?"

All regular programming within Port Olympus was halted. A picture of the great seal of the FKC president with the FKC flag (a hydra on a red background) occupied tv screens, and even internet traffic. Then a brief announcement appeared:

The city of Port Olympus is now under a General State of Emergency. All citizens and foreigners in Port Olympus will now be confined to their homes. All ingoing and outgoing links will now be suspended. A 24 hour curfew is now in place. Failure to comply with these and upcoming directives will result in arrest and detention.

Regular news reports within Vrak itself merely informed the public that Port Olympus was now declared “off limits”.

====

In Port Olympus itself, the initial vanguard of tanks rolled to a stop. The commander, after consulting a map, shook his head. In order to get to the Presidential palace and to secure that and the surrounding Vrakian quarter, he would have to pass by the Midlonians. He looked ahead with his binoculars and said:

-Send a message to the Midlonain commander using Vrakian and JDF protocols. Tell him that we are Vrakian military and that we are moving to secure our quarter. Advise that he do the same and not fire on us. We are friendlies.

He wasn’t sure how successful it would be but he decided to cool his heels for a few minutes.

====

The Vrak Military High Command, after receiving word of the Presidential declaration, brought the entire southern HORDE district to a higher state of readiness. All comm traffic was now being scrutinized and the eyes and ears of the VIS were brought to bear. Particular attention was paid to the states nearest Port Olympus, especially the Lords of War and Dyelli Beybi.

As Parks hung up and thought about the fact that the Deyllians knew that it was a pin-point assassination before he did? Well Parks father had been a loyal Vrakian, and part of him was also.

He picked up the line with the Intelligence Director and swithed into his
-Sir, This is Lieutenant General Parks of Arx Center.

-My Lord, I wish to report that there has been a serious incident with the Landgravine of Hubris. She has been apparently badly injured in an attack and was flown to the secure military hospital here. I have not received any information on her condition as of yet. Also several wounded Vaadians were transported with her.

He paused again
-I should also inform you that General O'Booze has assured me this was either an accident or a pin-point assasination attempt. And that he knew about the attack before I contacted him, or before we had any personel on the scene. In fact her own security detail didn't know where she was at the time.

The deep baritone voice replied.

-Very well, General Parks. A state of emergency has just been declared. Advise all JDF forces to comply and carry out said procedures. State militaries are also being advised to comply since this is basically a direct order from the FKC president. Keep us updated according to regular procedures. You have your orders, General.

====

**********
Encryption: MAX; VMHC and JDF protocols 09181897498; route: All FKC state military commands; route:...complete
**********

Port Olympus is now under a state of emergency as officially declared by the FKC president. All state militaries are expected to comply with the situation and enforce the directives.

Directives:

1) All outgoing and ingoing links and comm traffic sealed.
2) Monitor for any and all possible external threats. If a threat is likely, forward any and all intelligence to Vrak Military High Command until General O'Booze can be accounted for.
3) Port Olympus is now under 24 hour curfew. All citizens and foreigners are confined to their lodgings. Transgression of the curfew will result in immediate arrest and detention. If sufficient resistance is met, response with deady force is allowed.
4) Render any and all assistance to each state military to effectively carry out the State of Emergency.
5) All JDF and state militaries are to use JDF protocols for identifying friendlies. If JDF protocols are compromised, then use fallback plans.
6) Assist and aid in whatever manner possible to safeguard the Landgravine. Secure any other important foreign dignitaries but make sure they are monitored.
7) These above directives are effective immediately and to remain in place until the State of Emergency is lifted.

[Great Seal of the FKC President]
[Great Seal of the FKC]

OOC: If you like this story, please use the subscribe feature. Thanks.

New Shiron Defense Ministry
Orders Priority Operational Immediate
1. Effective immediately, all commands are to go on Defcon 3.
2. Reserve forces are to go on 24 hour standby alert.
3. Per Plan Juniper, the X Corps is to be formed immediately, with the 3rd Ranger Brigade, 1st Parachute Brigade, 4th Mountain Brigade, 21st Armored Cavalry Regiment (GEV), 871st Air Defense group, and associated corps support units to place themselves on 24 hour alert for overseas deployment. The 84th Airlift Wing, 87th Airlift Wing, and 104th Airlift Wing (National Guard) are hereby activated and their personnel ordered to report to their bases immediately.
4. Sealift Command is ordered to immediately prepare all fast sealift ships for deployment, and their reserve crews are immediately called up for active duty.
5. No units are authorized to leave their base areas except for routine peace time patrols at this time.
6. The remainder of Space Command is to prepare for emergency launch should it be neccessary.
7. Notification of New Shiron compliance with JDF warplan is to be confirmed by coded message within 2 hours.

signed,

Matthew Ridgeway, Minister of Defense
Marshal Kenneth McCoy, Chief of Staff, New Shiron Royal Armed Forces

occ
X Corps is the New Shiron rapid deployment force, consists of 9 battalions elite light infantry, 3 battalions of hovercraft AFVs, 3 battalions tactical missiles, 4 battalions air defense lasers/missiles, plus a support group, a logistics group, an MP battalion, various headquarters units, a signal battalion, 3 electronic warfare battalions, 3 engineer battalions, and a company of SAS types, a field hospital battalion, an evacuation hospital battalion, and various attached ANGLICO platoons. It, along with the bulk of the fleet and a couple of fighter wings (F22s) are New Shiron's contribution to the JDF (not counting those of New Shiron citizenship actually serving in the JDF)

Tollan, Ilek-Vaad

Retaliatory Guard Command watched with interest as the JDF and local militaries began scurrying around like ants. The RASTER sayellite that was in geo-synchronous orbit with the Klatch was hard pressed to watch everything at once. A second satellite was ordered into place to make sure that Retaliatory Guard Command missed nothing.

Supreme Republican Commander Ring watched the screens in Fire Control intently, especially interested in the movement around Port Olympus.

Command General Baibars stood behind him "I would recommend that we begin activating Retaliatory Guard forces Commander."

Ring shook his head "No, we've had no official word on anything. I don't want to start moving and calling up forces , it will only aggrevate the situation."

General Itzcoatl cleared his throat "We may be called on to extract The Nachxa at a moments notice, it would take twenty four hours to activate and deploy an extraction team, we should at least activate the 4th Red Jaguar and put them on standby. Having them just on alert, may cost us time."

General Baibars nodded "If a team goes in there will be shooting, we should have defensive forces activated in Lacon and Zorbus, at least."

Ring glared back at the men "Forces will remain on alert until I give the order. I do not recall asking for a debate on the subject or your opinions."

They both saluted the Commander and stalked off. The Red Jaguar did not like this new Purifier Commander. He wasn't at all like Uncle Istvan, and they were certain they would suffer for it.

Arx Central
Parks put down the phone and looked about. "Someone get me Admiral Grisoff" He yelled.

Klatchian Defense Command Center
The KDCC was buried deep into the hear of Parliament Hill and was directly under the Privy Council Chamber above. Three empty desks faced a huge map, not of the city, but of the entire Federation.

Personell went running from place to place and various status boards were indicating the readyness levels of State Militaries. There really wasn't any kind of panic here at the moment.

A woman with blond hair in a pony tail strode across the room watching the screens like a captain walking the quarter deck. Her hard blue eyes watched the various state militaries. First the damn Deyllians went to a war status while the Vrakians decided to act like there was an invasion. Now the President was busily giving orders about.

"Mam, it is General Parks...."

"What? Fine hand it over...what's up Parkie? Oh, well that's good. What threat are we supposed to defend from. The screen is damn clear.....Yeah I saw that....technically illegal my foot blatently illegal. Well he is the Chairman of the Council so he can give that order....send it to O'booze. If he agree's go for it...If not we'll just ignore it for the moment."

The JDF
Wasn't actually doing much of anything. Leave had been cancelled and a few monitors had been sent up the Fasta to help stregthen naval operations around Port Olympus. But the JDF units outside of the Federal District were not doing much more than that.

The Port Olympus JDF had activated all of the cities defenses now. Electronic tracking, anti-aircraft weapons, the Naval Patrol were all active but not really doing much but patrolling. Waiting for the other foot to drop.

Medical Center
A cute nurse smiled and said to Tochal, "You've sustained some injuries sir. But nothing apparently life threatening. Now just stay relaxed as we are going to have to set your ribs and your concusion means we can't put you under. I am afraid there might be a bit of pain."

The mortally wounded Jaguar was not mortally wounded by some technologies available. He was transfered to a much deeper lab. One not ruled by humans, but by the eight foot tall Var who placed the dying man into a coffin sized container of blue goo. Small robotic arms began to move about, cutting shrapnel from their wounds. The goo's pressure kept the Jaguar's blood in his body while the small cauterizing laser went to work.

The more lively Doctor looked at him and shook his head. "Will you let us decide who will and will not receive medical treatment?" He turned to the nurse and whispered, "Get one of the head shrinkers down here, we have a serious trauma depression case"

The Next Morining
At 8:00 am sharp, the Great Bell of Parliament tolled four times. It would do so again three more times until 9:00 am, when the emergency session of Parliament would open.

Jonathon looked sideways at the nurse "By a bit of pain, you mean it's going to hurt quite a lot, just like injections are just a little prick. I've always thought that people in the medical profession must be sadists at some level.........I mean you could have set my ribs while I was unconscious. Well, let's get on with it then, fifty eight years old and I've never even suffered a sprain. This must be payback."

He grins uncomfortably and resigns himself to the doctors care.

*****

Meanwhile the Jaguar laughs at the doctor attending him " You are the doctor. I will be a good patient, trust me doctor."

He then lays back, and winks at the nurses again, docially receiving treatment and even before receiving any painkillers he seems absolutely indifferent to pain. His years of taking the drug Ixpei has damaged his pain sensing nerves, leaving them dulled and turning pain into a comfortable numbness.

'Come on! Move those sodding barricades!'
The massive concrete blocks were wound up onto their castor-like wheels and dragged out of the way by the Civil Protection APC's, the tanks were waved on through by the officers.

Next day
'What do we do? What do we do?' Blubbered the man in a suit, obviously a minister offical.
'Wait and see.' Said Montgomery, who had just recently returned from Neo Tyr. 'I've spoken to Admiral Kristhev and he said we should just tighten our patrols around the mainland, that's all.'

A map of the mainland and the Federation was on a wll behind them, Montgomery turned to study it.
'You know,' he mused 'This might be the right time to make our charge up north... I'll get the 8th Army up and running within a couple of days, those artic territories of those bloody socialists are the only safer peice up there, snatching them from under their bloody nose while they are busy elsewhere would be rather nic of us, considering the PM has had it on his agenda for quite some time...'
'Perhaps instead we should seek to knock out the Dyellian Navy when most of it is in port...' a voice spoke from a darkend doorway.
'Ah, Admiral, good to see you.' Monty hadn't even turned to look.
'The Dyellians are trying to out-do us for Naval supremicy in the FKC, we already beat them with tanks, and when our new flagship, who will be ready in just a few days comes out...'
'Wha...what do you propose?'
'Minister, as you know the Dyellians recently built a pair of new dreadnoughts, I hope for them to be busy elsewhere, namely in Port Olympus to bother with, if we can, we should destroy or even sabotage their ships, our own new dreadnought is using Hellbores as one of its armaments.'
The others gasped.
'How did you get those?' stuttered the Miniser of Defence.
'ZMI transaction, a personal one at that, we could turn their entire naval complex into slag and be on the horizon, they'd never even know what hit them because the weapons fire would be new, strange and intresting.'
The Admiral stepped into the room and pulled the door gently shut behind him.

Saint Guineford's Bay was not the Dyellian Naval base for no reason. It had been chosen for it's defensibility. The Bay itself had been formed long ago when a particularly large and unpleasant volcano had gone off. This was long since extinct, but had left a sizeable crater lake. Over the passage of time, the sides had been erroded down. The Seaward side still had some fairly impressive bluffs, one area though had collapsed completely into the Sea, turning the crater lake into a bay.

In the twentieth century, Dyellian engineers had blasted the channel, making it deeper and accessible to large modern warships and cargo vessels. They'd also fortified the bluffs in typical Dyellian style - since the 1700s the Dyellians had never attempted a largescale offensive opperation without confortably outnumbering the enemy. More usually, they built an impressive line of fortifications and sat behind it, it had helped to cement their cowardly reputation (which wasn't entirely fair). Saint Guineford's was one of their better efforts (along with Bath, the Artois line and the Gonad fortifications).

Then of course there was the problem of getting into Dyellian waters in the first place. There were two routes. The first was the minefield. This route was suicide unless you wanted to spend several weeks trying to clear out the mines. The ones on the surface were pretty easy to spot. It was the captive torpedo mines that lurked deep beneath the surface, activating when they heard engine noise that were the real problem... and the submarines of course. The other route was to try to pass around either Lobster island (near Fasta Benj), or the South Gonad Battery near the peninsular of the same name.

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

O'Booze smelt a rat in the memos from the President, he didn't like them, especially the bit about him being 'accounted for', "Send a memo to Park, he's probably hot on the consitution, tell him he is not to obey any orders delivered to him in a manner that may be deemed unconstitutional... let him figure out what that is for himself..."

Klatchian Geo synchronous orbit was a complicated affair. Ever since the Dyellians had got their hands on space weapons, people who ventured into the wrong area were generally greeted with a hail of "get the hell out of our space!" (except if you were a Lords of War Craft, they'd supplied the Dyellians with much of their equipment in the first place). This was partly because the Dyellians were obsessed with the fact that Menelmacar was coming to bomb them, and also partly because there was the odd mine floating around that they'd completely lost control of. Considering how very big space was, it was pretty easy to avoid treading on the two small patches the Dyellians regarded as their own... however New Shiron was coming suspiciously close...

Port Olympus, Parliament House (http://www.nyc-architecture.com/GON/mad1.jpg)

The bell began to toll and the Federation Keys, even the notoriously absent Deyllians, began to take their seats. At the front of the space, behind his vast desk, stood the Senior Alconian Key, and Speaker of Parliament. He banged on his gavel several times as the last few stragglers moved into their seats.

"My fellow Keys, it is with great saddness that I call you all here today. Last night an attack was made upon the premisis of the Envoy from Ilek-Vaad, the Nachxa, who was at my home at the time. This attack, although itself an assult against the Klatch's foreign relations, was far more serious by inflicting wounds upon the Outer Consul herself. I have asked her cheif physician in the matter, Major Bray, to outline her condition."

The gray fox nodded to a man in uniform standing at the visting speaker's podium. The Major was a short, stout fellow, and his head barely could be seen above the tall podium. His warm barritone was infused with both confidence and hesitation.

"Honored Members of Parliament, and their advisors. At approximatly 18:00 hours Victoira Wittlebach Crawford was admitted to emergency care at the Arx Medical Facility. She seemed to have suffered severe head trauma and was unconcious at the time of her arrival. Also six other individuals were admitted at the same time. Three died from severe wounds, one remains in intensive care, and the last only suffered minor injuries from the attack."

He paused looking down both sides of the Chamber and then continued. "MRI's of the Landgravine's skull revealed several fractures and severe swelling. It is apparent that she is in an incapacitiating coma for the forseeable future."

Almost immediatly a Key rose and began speaking without permission....

Port Olympus
The people of Port Olympus had no love in their hearts for outsiders. Some looked to the Vrakians, some to the Dyellians, and some towards independence.

A couple of youths walked out to work. One could still feel the heavy rains from yesterday in the damp concrete sidewalk. One could feel the chaos of yesterday in the light traffic on the street. As they neared the local subway exit, they noticed a couple of cute girls emerging and walking south.

And like so many men in history, they followed to their own demise. The girls walked down the side of the main city station. One was carrying a large roll in her hands. The smarter of the youths decided to take decisive action.

"Yeh, need a hand with that?" He asked in the semi-detached air of a young man who is more intrested in trying to figure out out to get a girl to go out with thim, rather than any meaningful conversation.

"Sure, thanks..." The blond replied. She gave him a coy look with her blue eyes, long practiced in the art of making males do her work for her. The red head soon found herself a companion.

"Hey, where are you two off too?" He asked, trying to hide his intentions and his thoughts behind a happy, cheerful banter.

"The Rally..." The redhead responded.

"What Rally?" her escort asked, confusion setting in.

"The Rally for Independence..."

"So, your going to this rally to..."

"Uh,uh..."

"Ah, isn't there a cerfew?" The taller of the two was becoming a bit concerned.

"Yes, but you two don't seem to care what the blubber king says..." The redhead replied. Ah yes, a future Cheka agent here folks.

"We don't care what the friken Potentate of Tusks thinks, or says. This isn't Vrak anymore, it is the Federal District." The youth now struggling with the banner announced in his best speaking voice. The blond kept flashing those blue eyes at him, he was a gonner.

"Yeah, we don't care...but Independence?"

"It is time we got these, barbarians out from underfoot and from ruling this city." The blond announced.

Oh god, she is definatly a Guild Family. flowed through the tall youth's mind as he spouted, "All they do is force us to run their little cobbled together federation for them..."

"Exactly, it is time that Port Olympus took it's proper place in the world. As the city state that rules the Klatch, not the city state that is ruled by a bunch of mongrel races, and sea-lions with gradiose ideas."

By now they had reached the street. Both youths could make out people gathering around the large fountain in the City's central square. Several place cards could be made out with slogans such as: Long Live Port Olympus, or Freedom Now. It was obvious that the President's orders carried no weight here.

"Come on you two..." The redhead turned as she crossed the street waving the two youths forward.

The one with the poster looked at his tall freind. "Hey man, ding, dong the wicked witch is dead man."

"Yell yea, she would have diverted half these people by now...Let Freedom Reign man!"

They ran across the street, their jobs, and any fear of retribution out of their minds.

Colin McIntyre, junior secretary to the New Shiron Residency, walked slowly along the periphery of the city's central square. He wasn't at all happy about his assignment either as he smoked another cigerette.

But Winters had insisted that somebody had to be out on the streets to find out what was going on with the people and his immediate boss, Melinda Argent, had looked over at him and he had known immediately who that SOMEBODY was going to be.

"Shit" he muttered. There was a curfew in the city, and clearly it was being violated. Good thing he had his diplomatic passport with him. Even more importantly, good thing he had his mini laptop (with its built in wireless capability, cell phone, and radio transmitter... the latest toy from New Shiron's burgeoning information technology industry).

Pulling out his digital camera, he looked across the square with the viewfinder and set it on maximum zoom. Taking a moment to check out the legs on a couple of the college aged girls in the gaggle that was building up, he went back to business again and read the signs.

"Oh shit. I don't think the head Walrus is going to like that very much." he muttered again.

O'Booze had heard about the demonstration as well, coutesy of his friendly local Cheka. His reaction was the usual cautiously insidious one you'd expect from a Dyellian. He was at his desk, smoking a cigar, with his feet up, the very image of relaxation,

"Tell the JDF to make sure nobody interferes with the demonstration unless it gets out of control. Damn the curfew, it was a bloody stupid idea anyway... then tell the Klatchian Marshalls to turn up, plain clothed of course, work out who the trouble makers are, then arrest them this evening for breaking the curfew, after the whole thing has dissolved."

As the day progressed the group grew larger, and then began to move towards Parliament Hill. They waved banners of Free Olympus Now, and Freedom for the people. Near the head of the waves of protesters moving along the street was a giant walrus floating above the crowd. It wore a large paper crown.

Port Olympus did seem to exist in another world within the topsy-turvy world of the Klatch. Some weren’t sure if it was the center of it, removed from it, or merely another flavour of risk. Certainly the one man rule states in the FKC would argue that a strong hand was needed to keep things under control, and hence a general anathema to demonstrations. Course, there were those that believed voicing your opinion was an inherent right, to which was the often reply, “and how does that save you from the belly of a Klatchian crocodile? Sure, you didn’t ask his opinion but he ate you anyway.”

It should be said that usually these philosophical debates that did occur often involved large amounts of alcohol.

Still, the Vrakians were not keen on any form of demonstration and would perhaps react rather…emotionally…at seeing their beloved king done up in paper mache. After all, their reasoning went, can’t people just file a proper protest at the nearest post office after filling out the necessary paperwork? Never mind the fact that you might get dragged out into a dark van by equally dark sunglassed gorillas who like to break bones for a living.

At least that is what was rumoured to happen…

So, the Vrakian troops that were presently swarming about the Presidential palace itself were under orders to protect the grounds at all costs. And if some stupid pakrah demonstrators ventured too close, well, you need to break a few eggs to make an omelette.

====

The Vrakian armour parked outside the Midlonian bunker got no response. The commander made sure that his message was indeed received and, after receiving proper authorization, pushed ahead. After all, they were here to help and this was the quickest route to the Vrakian quarter and, most importantly, the presidential palace. According to the map, they would have to go near Presidential hill.

The massive crowd surged around the small pool in the Government Square, that stood at the gate up to Parliament Hill, including the Presidential Palace.
They shouted cat calls at the JDF guards and threw rotton fish. The crowd pressed up against the bars of the fence. People began to appear at the windows of the Klatchian Geographic Society, who's meuseum and offices ran all the way to the Vrakian Quarter. Others began to appear at the windows of the National Beurcratic Office.

In the crowd, the few Marshall's that had reported for duty today were spread thin within the crowd. Most of them were junior officers, recruits from outside the old order.

One was a Vrakian named Pargu, who stood almost seven feet. A brick wall of a human who had taken postion across the square from the gates on the steps of the Klatchian News Union. As he stood there with various reporters and cameramen making reports of events to the world (and sipping on vodka martinis between reports as waiters brought them finger food) his eyes noticed a familiar head.

It looked like one of his former commanding officers moving through the crowd. Hmm, I wonder if that's him... As the cool blue eyes watched for the figure to turn so he could see their face, the smell of something burning filled his nostrils. He pulled his eyes up to see small licks of flame rising from the base of the floating Vrakian King.

His eyes went wide as he watch the flames shoot up the sides of the large, walrus king. "My God they are burning the King in effigy" he said outloud.
His eyes went back down as he noiced a figure near the steps suddenly collapse. The junior Marshall looked about but couldn't see the person he had been watching intensley a few moments before.

Not only that, but the entire world was getting to watch. At the southern gates of the Vrakian Quarter, if one were standing on the wall, one could make out the burning walrus across the rooftops and conservatories of the Klatchian Geographic Society.

*******
In an outer part of the city, a member of a Checka cell made themselves breakfast as they watched the pictures of the demonstration on T.V. The sound of hissing brought their eyes up to the small, dirty grate in the cealing, it looked as if whisps of white smoke were exiting the vents.

A moment later the Checka agent fell on the floor, never to rise again. Her husband never even woke, dying in bed.

*******
On the eastern side of the city, a Checka agent drove up to the red light of an intersection. He sent the gear back to first as he waited for the light to change. A man with dirty black hair walked up to his car with a bucket and squeege. A typical thing for the local hustlers to do, then demand a few krondor for 'cleaning' your windsheild with dirty water.

The man with the squegee put water on the windsheild and pulled it off. His other hand pulled a silenced nine millimeter from his bucket and pulled a round off through the window of the car, and the agent's head. The windsheild begame dirty on the inside, covered in blood. The 'window cleaner' walked off.

*******
In the subway, another agent of the Checka was silently waiting for a train to take him to the city center. She watched as the highspeed train pulled out of the tunnel and began to slow down. Her vision blurred as a sharp electric shock ran through her body from the base of her spine. The pain was intense, she was paralized for a moment...a moment where a gloved hand pushed on her back, knocking her off the platform and right infront of the aproaching monorail train. As she regained her senses, she got to see the bright red of the lead car moving at 45 mph three inches from her nose. It was the last thing she ever saw.

Similar events were occuring throughout the city. The Checka cells that had been activated were being deactivated with exstreme prejudice.

Reporter James Villareal for the LNS had followed Pat The Llama to Port Olympus and had stayed on as Pat slipped from Port Olympus after making a whole series of new enemies. James stood at the edge of the crowd of protestors, he had no staff, but he did have a plam sized satellite link camera and a headset.

He recorded the surging of the crowd trying to pick out any of the 'leaders' to see if any of them were going to make grand speeches or anything else of note. He watched as the effigy of the King of Vrak bobbed past and focused in on it as it apparently went up in flames, it seemed poignant so he added a voice over to it as it went to the LNS' satellites, most likely being carried live on the LNS Internatinal channel, Port Olympus was big news these days.

"Here in Port Olympus , protestors gather at the gates to Parliament Square, in sight of the Presidental Palace. Protesteors seem to be protesting the President's authority, or perhaps lack of it by burning the current President, the King of Vrak in effigy. The protesters seem to be well organized and intent on voicing their displeasure at the current state of affairs in Port Olympus."

He panned his camera over the crowd, getting in the rotten fish, the jeering crowd and the burning effigy.

"If I can I will see if I can't talk to some of the protesters............."

He then moves in, to try and grab some photogenic youths to give their spin on the protest................

Most of the youths were trying to avoid being caught in the glare of the camera. It seemed even now that the locals were scared of being photographed. One young man suddenly appeared out of the crowd and placed his hand over the camera lens.

He was tall, almost six six with long blond hair. He was wearing black pants and a black turtleneck shirt. The light smell of expensive lotion and a watch that cost several thousand Krondor on his wrist indicated that he was not from the poor sections of town. But the firm grip, and cold hard gray eyes showed he was not amused by the reporter's sudden presense.

He looked over James with a cold hard glance and then said, "Who the f*** are you?" Somehow it was disconcerting to hear such a cultured accent be so blunt and vulgar. Several more youths turned and surrounded James, they didn't look at all freindly or intrested in talking...more like killing.

Back at LNS headquarters the producer noticed as James was being accosted. "Make sure that's going live! They're attacking James, this is great, GREAT! I smell an Emmy!"

*****

Meanwhile James didn't smell an Emmy, it smelled more like 'Teen Spirit'. He kept the camera resolutely on the youth and made no move to remove the young man's hand.

"I'm James Villareal with LNS Satellite News, we are on live on LNS Satellite 1. I wanted to know if any of you gentlemen had any comment on the protest and what the goal of the protest is."

He then looked serious "This camera isn't recording anything, it's beaming directly to satellite, you can destroy it and me, but the World still has your face.

So, do you want to tell the world your story and the story of your comrades? Or do you want to make a big mistake?"

James didn't feel as brave as his words, but he hoped his false bravado would scare them off, or at least get a story............if it didn't, he was prepared to stand up and run for his principles.

Colin realized that he had run out of cigerettes after chain smoking the last few hours. "Damn" he thought to himself. "I better go back to my bike to get some more."

He walked briskly out of the square and hurried to were he had parked his motorcycle in a contract garage. Reaching his bike he thought about it. Things were getting ugly at the square. Maybe it would be better to go the roof of the parking garage, or better yet, the level just below it. He would still be able to see fairly well, and it was bound to be a lot safer.

After all, he wasn't getting hazard pay.

"How are you John?"

'John' was a middle aged Olympian, bordering on the overweight, and with a receding hairline, he was also, very secretly, in a Senior position with the Cheka, "I'm fine, which is more than can be said for a lot of my agents."

And what do you propose I do about that?" the second speaker was shorter, leaner, and definantely Dyellian (not that that was too unusual in Port Olympus), he joined the first one, leaning against the railing of a bridge overlooking the Benj.

"I need a team from Six, from some far flung State to look into this, they know who my agents are it isn't safe, even for me, I'm having to bring bodyguards with me."

"Man with the newspaper, six O'Clock?"

"One of mine, havn't lost your touch though." John sighed, "This isn't normal at all. When you find intelligence agents what does Five do with them?"

"It watches them and makes sure they don't gather any useful information."

"Exactly." John concluded, "It doesn't bump them off because then new one's it doesn't know arrive and it has to go through the whole business of working out who the new spies are, it only kills them when..."

"It's trying to send a message." the Dyellian finished the sentence.

"I think we need to send a message." John nodded towards a passer by and the pair fell silent for a moment until they were well out of earshot, "I need fresh agents to find out who is bumping my lot off. Then we send them a very clear message in reply."

"I'll see what I can do, but we will need your cells to keep on working, just make sure your agents are vigilent. It takes time to get people into good positions. Your guys are already there, keep an ear to the ground... or the walls around parliament. I'd bet my bottom dollar this is one of the other States. It's too well organised to be terrorists."

Back at LNS headquarters the producer noticed as James was being accosted. "Make sure that's going live! They're attacking James, this is great, GREAT! I smell an Emmy!"

*****

Meanwhile James didn't smell an Emmy, it smelled more like 'Teen Spirit'. He kept the camera resolutely on the youth and made no move to remove the young man's hand.

"I'm James Villareal with LNS Satellite News, we are on live on LNS Satellite 1. I wanted to know if any of you gentlemen had any comment on the protest and what the goal of the protest is."

He then looked serious "This camera isn't recording anything, it's beaming directly to satellite, you can destroy it and me, but the World still has your face.

So, do you want to tell the world your story and the story of your comrades? Or do you want to make a big mistake?"

James didn't feel as brave as his words, but he hoped his false bravado would scare them off, or at least get a story............if it didn't, he was prepared to stand up and run for his principles.

The young man smiled a thin smile. "You actually don't have a good picture of me Barbarian. " He smiled a thin smile,"....my hand is over your lens...all you have is my voice."

Which was true...whoever the kid was he had appeared a bit too suddenly for the auto focus to zoom in on him...the fact that he had known that was a bit problematic, as though 'Teen Spirit' knew a bit more of what he was doing.

A second voice from behind James started, it was female..."Quite...don't turn around." Several sets of hands fell on James keeping him still. The young man kept using his hand to block the view of the camera.

"This is no place for some foreign barbarian reporter, it is a matter between the Olympians and the Klatchians...we have no need of spys for that overgrown seal or his lap dogs here." It was the female voice behind him again. James equipment was being carefully removed from his body, there was menace in the set of eyes around him but also a glow of mischeif.

********
'Jhon' would have a sudden moment of inspiration that night, as he brushed his teeth. Unfortunatly all his precausions and body guards had forgotton to protect his tube of toothpaste. Which is where the inspiration came from, the small hole in the tube as he looked down at it and up at the froth in his mouth. Of course by then the toxin was causing his windpipe to swell, as his brain lost oxygen his thought was The bloody super...

The super was downstairs in the basement. He was lying in his easy chair infront of the T.V., his hand wrapped around five thousand Krondor. The poison had been self administered, as he greedly counted the bills in his hand he had to re-wet his fingers to seperate them.

Of course "Jhon" should have been at a safehouse. But a note had been left on the door of one.

The moon is quite happy this red rock day
underneath in his own writting was a translation

meet at the Happy Seal Tea Club, four, blue flower

OOC: Sorry but 'Jhon' would have likely been a first target there D.B. Kill the cutouts and then decimate the cells.

*****

(OOC: I was figuring the people who run the cells should be a lot harder to find being as they're not actually doing anything suspicious apart from meeting suspicious people. They'd also be more experienced, but sure, game on.)

"It's funny really." the Dyellian who'd met with John the previous day remarked to another officer. They were back across the border now, in a proper Cheka Office. It was big and obvious, and radiated the power of the State, "I don't see why people would want to hit the Cheka, we're not actually doing anything suspicious over there at the moment. It looks like they want our eyes and ears gone."

"Could be revenge killing." the other Officer vounteered.

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain much really, unless... unless..." he stood up from behind his desk, "Right you're a Klatchian Marshall, your mistress has just been injured, looks like the work of assassins. You're going to assume an Intelligence Service Right?"

The other agent nodded, "May I predict where this is running Sir?"

"Go ahead."

"They ring to inform the other Consul and he says, 'I've already heard' and he just happens to have a whole bunch of Cheka officers in his Office."

The Senior agent nodded gravely, "Furthermore we know they watch us, like we watch them, and they have the treasury of the Federation to back them up. These attacks were carried out by an Intelligence agency with considerable resources at it's disposal. I don't believe in coincidences."

There was a knock on the door, the pair immediately shut up, "Enter."

A young looking officer, wearing the identifiable Cheka uniform entered, "Sir, sorry to interupt, we've had a safehouse penetrated."

He nodded, "Casualties?"

"They hit the Chief Superintendent."

In the silence that followed, it was possible to hear the Senior Officer's teeth grinding, "Get us all the info on the Klatchian Marshalls from Benjia House. Also send a memo to Five, tell them that it seems likely that we're going to need to clean out the henhouse."

"Right away Sir." the young Officer left.

"Get the best agent you have from the Revolution." he instructed the other, "Some of the Border Sheriff's have been taking bribes. Identify them and disempower them. We will not tollerate corruption in the United Republics."

"Right away Sir."

at the School of Esoteric Knowledge, the cover for New Shiron's primary cyperwarfare and intelligence gather center, Tiffany Jones, senior watch officer read over a printout.

"Ok people, we have some strange things happening in Port Olympus. Apparently the peasants are revolting." she said flippantly. Like most of the staff, she was not big on formality or even social graces a lot of the time.
"I want the Klatch desk to start looking for chat rooms, message boards and anything else that might give us a clue as to what the locals there are thinking. Center also wants us to check out what the FKC authorities are planning to do, if possible. So you guys over at the Intentions desk, get started on looking for stray traffic there. Apparently the boss lady doesn't want any more surprises than necessary."

General Porky Waters watched all of this from his office and just shook his head and grinned. The Queen probably would have smiled herself at the boss lady comment, although the more conventional military types probably wouldn't have. Although his people were about as far from military as could be, they loved a challenge. "Mr. Davis," he asked in an easy tone to a young bearded and long haired tech, "Would you be so kind as to get the feed from orbit 7 and from our friend in Port Olympus on the screens. I want to see whats going on and I want everyone else to as well."

ooc
think CTU from 24 for those who are fans, but with a geekier, more college type atmosphere

The young man smiled a thin smile. "You actually don't have a good picture of me Barbarian. " He smiled a thin smile,"....my hand is over your lens...all you have is my voice."

Which was true...whoever the kid was he had appeared a bit too suddenly for the auto focus to zoom in on him...the fact that he had known that was a bit problematic, as though 'Teen Spirit' knew a bit more of what he was doing.

A second voice from behind James started, it was female..."Quite...don't turn around." Several sets of hands fell on James keeping him still. The young man kept using his hand to block the view of the camera.

"This is no place for some foreign barbarian reporter, it is a matter between the Olympians and the Klatchians...we have no need of spys for that overgrown seal or his lap dogs here." It was the female voice behind him again. James equipment was being carefully removed from his body, there was menace in the set of eyes around him but also a glow of mischeif.



James struggled now and kept his hand clmaped firmly on the camera making sure that his hand was over the 'record' button so it's couldn't be shut off with removing his hand, he was still trying to sound brave, and like most Vaadians, once backed into the corner he became defiant.

"You underestimate this 'barbarian', the resolution on this camera means it only takes a millisecond to focus and get a clear shot, I got clean pictures of you and your two budies to your right and your left!"

He continued to bluff "The only 'barbarians' here are the thugs that are kidnapping reporters! Freedom fighters WANT their message to be heard by the world, if your cause is just you would be happy to explain it the world and show the injustice, only TERRORISTS kidnap reporters!"

He was shouting by the end and perspriring, he had started to struggle now.

"I MAY BE A BARBARIAN, BUT I'M NO TERRORIST!! HELP! THEY'RE KIDNAPPING THE TRUTH! DON'T BECOME TERRORISTS!"

He was really shouting now, and was quite scared and angry.

*****

Back in Lassic the LNS Satellite 1 producer was leaning over the satellite tech's shoulder "Holy sh*t! They actually are kidnapping James!"

The only video was of a man's hand clamped over the camera, but the audio was still feeding and Jame's shouts and protests could be heard.

"Make sure we track his camera, use the GPS to show exactly where he is! Put his location over a map of Port Olympus and put in on an inset in the corner!"

Within seconds a window opened in the corner with the GPS position of James Villarreal blinking on a map of Port Olympus as he yelled and struggled, not only was the world watching in real time, and everyone could see exactly where it was happening.

The Producer was shouting top the entire staff " Enhance those pictures of the thugs that grabbed him! get those up the instant we lose James' feed! Get our legal and military commentators! This is it folks! GO!GO!GO!"

The techs set to work analyzing frame by frame the footage of the men that advanced on James, moving each tenth of a second, isolating and enhancing the best possible picture of anyone that was in front of James' camera before he was grabbed, they were pixelated and a bit blurry, but anyone that knew the people would recognize them............better that a security camera pic, but maybe not good enough for a lineup.

OOC: Ask any you shall receive.
Klatchian Marshalls Office

The Klatchian Marshall's were Chartered early under the New Constitution to manage, maintain, and supervise all activities within Klatchian Territory Under the Perview of the Klatchian Privy Council

Under the Landgravine of Hubris they have been primarily responsible in maintaining control over failed states and investigating matters of National Security outside of the Joint Defense Force chain of command.

However, they have a tendency to deal with problems by removing them. This is likely more of a historical precident bleeding into modern operations.

The Marshall's are in charge of counter espionage and muder cases within Port Olympus, recently they were placed in charge of drug enforcement also.

History
The Marshalls were reformed out of the Assasin's Guild of Port Olympus, chartered by Yovak the Black, 12th Ursa Lord of the Nef in 1232 A.D. The Guild had effectively ran Port Olympus since the fall of the last Ursa Lord and the installation of the Vrakian Overlords. Supported by the other Guilds of the City, they were effectively the training school for both the cities Banking and land owning magnates. In that time period they maintained an iron grip on the City, and the lucrative smuggling trade across the border.

Generally they allowed Vrakians 'free reign' within the City, but undermined any real control the Governors had over either the existing government. 44 of the 68 Patricians durring the Vrakian Period were, or were closely associated with, the Assasin's Guild.

Things drastically changed for the Assasins Guild, and the city, when Parliament ratified the New Constitution and set Port Olympus as the Federal District. The Privy Council was not intrested in maintaing the status quo but actually having control of the City. As new policies were inforced, including a general income tax and a new form of property tax levied, the Assasin's Guild attempted to kill both General O'Booze and Landgravine Hubris.

It is beleived that Alconian IIS had pentrated into the inner workings of the Assasin's Guild at this time. Rather than be attacked, the Landgravine attacked using JDF armored forces. The resulting battle destroyed the Guild's headquarters and left seventy dead or unaccounted for. (The building was an ornate palace fortress located at is what now, Landgravine Square.)

It is not known why the Landgravine offered the survivors of the coup attempt posts in a new orginization. However we estimate that she thought by having the Guild effectively under her control, she could enforce her will on the other Guilds. Allowing her not to have to fight a serious underground threat against her power over the City.

Profile:
Training: Offically, they are trained in counter-espionage and investigative techniques. It is likely they still maintain education in the arts of disquise, basic sabatoge, bladed weapons, sharp-shooting, and pharmacology.

Experience: Older Marshall's from pre-Constitution Days still number a great deal, usually senior postions. Outsiders (non-Olympians) make up very few of the senior postions, although several Var presently are at the District Command level.

Loyalty: Mixed at best. Most 'outsiders' are loyal to the Federation as a whole, but 'insiders' may either be strongly attached to Alconian intrests (via the Landgravine) or their own intrests.

Funding: Primarily through the Federal Treasury and funds from the Unclaimed Territories. Note: Most Senior Marshalls come from wealthy Olympian Families. Rumors indicate that a 'fund' the Guild built during the Vrakian years may not have been confiscated after the Guild's transformation.
(Additionally, some Marshalls may have been allowed to continue assasinations for hire as part of the agreement between the Privy Council and the Marshalls.)

Assets: Unknown outside of training facilties and central offices in Parliament Hill

Numbers: 1,200+ Nationwide (however many more may be 'connected' and available to boost numbers if needed)

Pentration: Presently minimal, most Marshalls that we presently have are located outside of the continental Klatch.

Vrakian Security: potentially minimal...several senior Marshall's have Vrakian aides but most are presently serving on Presidential Protection Details.

IIS: Unknown, obviously pentrated at some high level before the attempted coup. IIS did have regular contact with the Cheif Super. over mutual matters of concern in the city.

LOW:We're not even sure if they have an Intelligency Agency.

New Shiron: Unlikely at this time, may have a few new agents in cadet training program presently.

Mildonia:Chances of Pentration minimal at best,

N.G.: (your joking right?)

DNGT, A0: Unlikely to even have spent the time.

People in the crowd looked at James as he screamed 'Terrorist' but looked at who was surrounding him and either turned around scared, or just jeered.

Another voice said calmly, "Resolution doesn't help deal with auto focus, nor feild of view idiot."

The camera, still attached to the rest of James communication gear, was torn from his hand.

"Now Barbarian, obviously you don't know what you are doing, so I think it's time you left..."

A voice began to call out..."fish boy, fish boy...toss him back...toss him back..."

James's 'Terrorists' began to chant the same saying. "fish boy, fish boy, toss him back, toss him back, smells the same as his day old catch!"

James was suddenly heaved up into the air. Like somone in a giant mosh pit, James was handed over the heads of the crowd. Away from the burning effigy of the Walrus King....

****
The hand came off the camera lens. It was pointed downwards towards the wide concrete 'bricks' of the square. The sounds of someone doing something to the gear, could be heard but then the camera went zooming upwards, above the crowd. The camera turned towards the burning walrus and approached it.

The sound of chanting "The bitch loves the walrus..." could be heard. The camera lens actually appeared to touch the burning walrus several times and then swing away. One could make out the gates below Parliament Hill, but the air near the camera was wavy from heat of the fire.

****
On the rest of the world's channels, an efigy of the Landgravine made of straw appeared out of the crowd and was forced to do something suggestive with the burning Walrus. Both were then allowed to continue to smolder at the center of the crowd. Astue eyes would have noiced the odd pile of gear on one of the straw Landgravine's 'hands'.

****
James's crowd surfing adventure ended with him being tossed into a canal. The water was cold and smelled of clorine and rotton fish. The strong current of the stream carried James, several fish heads, and what looked like a dead body towards the City center.
Of course, James would have remembered that canal was capped as it entered the Central City Square. Obviously it dumped out into the river, but now was the time to get out before entering some poor Klatchian's version of the tunnel of love.

Unfortunatly it appeared the walls of the canal were made of tight fitting ashlar stone four feet high to the street above. The water was at least six feet feet deep with a strong the current. Too strong to stand against after all the rain last night. Of course, if James had taken the Port Olympus history tour he would have remember that the canal went into the hydro-electric plant behind City Hall.

OOC: James is not actually headed to his doom. Turbines have a problem eating large items such as humans, t.v.'s, pianos, those things D.B. sells and has the audacity to call an automobile.

(OOC: They're the worst cars in the entire world! Take all the worst aspects of warsaw pact vehicles and add them together.)

On the border with Vrak were a branch of the police force known as the 'Border Sheriffs'. They existed on most of Dyelli Beybi's borders, and were generally petty criminals and thugs. Up in this area though, they were known to be taking bribes from the Klatchian Marshalls. This was no longer acceptable.

The Station itself was a ramshackle affair. Three rooms (an office, a cell and a waiting room) with five officers, a collection of huts out the back served as housing. Four of them were male, hardbitten types, who didn't bother to shave more than once a week. They were supposedly there to stop illegal immigration. That happened, provided the immigrants didn't have a suitable bribe. They also occasionally gave info to whoever had a good purse (the Klatchian Marshalls in particular) as to what the local Dyellian garrisons were doing, and tried to report on what the Cheka was doing (without much success). The Fifth person in the station was a scrawny young girl, going by the name of Helena Artois. The other four, privately had no idea what she was doing in a Sheriff Station, but didn't complain. There was someone to run errands to the other Stations and to pour the tea.

Today the four were playing cards in the office (rather than patrolling the border), when a knock came on the door. "Artois get the door."

She left, it wasn't like she was in the game or anything, closing the door carefully behind her. There was the creak of the door, "Ah Hello...."

Then there was a rather unpleasant 'thunk' noise, and a pained yelp.

"Malcolm."

"Yes, Searg?"

"Get your gun."

They were a bit slow on the uptake though, the door burst open, it was a bloody Commisaar, fully decked out with the military greatcoat and everything, "Hello gents."

"What the hell is this?" the Sergeant demanded, he could see the Commisaar was holding a pistol in his left hand, and it made him slightly nervous, what made him even more nervous was the fact that his anteroom had green uniformed AOS agents in it.

"Resisting arrest are we?" the Commisaar smiled unpleasantly.

"What?" the Sergeant had a very bad feeling about this, the pistol was suddenly pointing at his face, "Oh no..."

His brains splattered the wall behind him, one of the surviving Sheriffs lunged for a shotgun that was resting (very much against regulation) in the corner of the room. For his trouble he recieved three bullets in the back.

"You've been taking bribes." the Commisaar declared to the two survivors.

"I never..."

"Shut up!" he roared, when someone with a gun who is quite willing to use it yells a command, it tends to be obeyed.

"Thank you." the Commisaar continued in a calmer voice, "Anyway I'm here to say you betrayed the State, the State is very displeased."

He didn't say anything else, spinning on his heels and leaving the room. An AOS agent muscled in after him. There was a click as the agent's safety came off, then a blast of submachinegun fire.

Four short burst echoed as he moved about the room, making sure none of the four police officers would get up again. The fifth member of the Station was cowing in the corner nursing a broken nose, "You may run." the Commisaar said crisply, "If you are still here in one minute I will kill you."

It took her a few seconds to register what he'd just said, then she sprinted out the door. The Commisaar re-holstered his weapon, "Follow her. Find where she runs. Arrest everyone at the adress. The rest of you, load the bodies onto the truck, they died resisting arrest. Tragic but unavoidable."

The Cheka was 'cleaning out the henhouse'.

James floundered in the river and tried to grab whatever he possibly good. He was a fair swimmer but he had never tried it fully clothed. He struggled against the current, he seemed to picture either a waterfall or other things just as dangerous creating the current, he thought of the horrible beast Charbydis and got an adrenaline rush. He managed to tread as he was swept along and keep his head above water.

"HELP!HELP! SOMEBODY!" James shouted as he struggled to keep above water and free himself from the canal, he was also certain the filthy cold water was going to give him swimmers ear.

*****

"FANTASTIC!" Shouted the LNS producer "Keep it rolling! Beautiful! Hire those thugs! Look at the camera work, suberb! Get those mug shots ready, get the commentators cued , as soon as the feed dies cut to it!"

He ran to the teleprompter and typed in the commentators opening line ' LNS Satellite 1 correspondent James Villarreal kidnapped by anti-government terrorists in Port Olympus. The whereabouts of the intrepid young stringer are currently unknown, we here at the LNS , all pray for the best.'

"Run it! he shouted, cue camera two, someone corner a politician for a comment!"

The LNS press room was chaos.

Reports were coming into CSD-5 Headquarters in Cyro. Situated a block away from Benjia House, 'The Glawis Residence' had been an inner city palace for the Tzar while the Royal Palace was being renovated. It was somewhat ironic the Cheka was there now (then again Felix Dzerzhinsky had always had a keen sense of irony).

"We've cleaned out the border."

"Excellent work, I trust there were a few random acts of shocking violence, but not enough that we can't deny it?"

"Absolutely as you ordered Sir. There is one loose end at the moment though Sir, a Constable, a witness to one shooting who wasn't disempowered."

"What?" the Head of Five did not sound entirely happy, "I trust there is a reason."

"Valence wants to turn the subject."

"Tell him to do whatever the hell he wants, but if it looks like they aren't turning, to disempower them immediately... I trust we are ready for phase two of the action?"

"I'm not too happy on that one Sir, can't we just leave it unsolved?"

"No. We'll have CID snooping over our patch, we'll toss them a bone."

"I'm just not too happy about the 'bone' you've chosen, they're a good Commisaar."

"Was a good Commisaar, they'll be doing their duty to the State."

"Very well Sir."

James floundered in the river and tried to grab whatever he possibly good. He was a fair swimmer but he had never tried it fully clothed. He struggled against the current, he seemed to picture either a waterfall or other things just as dangerous creating the current, he thought of the horrible beast Charbydis and got an adrenaline rush. He managed to tread as he was swept along and keep his head above water.

"HELP!HELP! SOMEBODY!" James shouted as he struggled to keep above water and free himself from the canal, he was also certain the filthy cold water was going to give him swimmers ear.

A few minutes later James smacked into the set of iron bars that kept debries out of the tunnels. The water rushed by him on both sides as the deep rumble of heavy equipment came from somewhere behind him. A few moments later a pair of strong hands gripped James by his shoulders and lifted him up, onto a narrow stone platform.

A cloaked figure stood above him. Looking down like some version of death or doom. But the voice, the voice from the cloaked figure was angelic. "Can you walk? We need to get off the streets before O'booze sends in the Army or Vrak sends in the tanks...come on..."

Her strong arm pulled up James and pulled him up to street level. They crossed a major intersection and then crossed into the warren of streets and mansions that made up this part of the city. After a few twists and turns they came to a small door. The woman, girl, angel of Death? typed in a code on a small keypad and was buzzed through.

Suddenly James was thrust back into the corner of the small entryway. A woman, or perhaps more accurately a gorrilla disquised as a woman, had one powerful arm pinning James into the corner.

The cloaked figure pulled back her cowl to reveal that the angelic voice came with an angelic face. Full lips, blond hair, blue eyes, if she wasn't an actress or a model she should have been. "Annie, don't I just pulled him out of the Canal on the grate." A fourth figure appeared from down a set of stairs at the end of the hall, it was a mime.

Annie turned and looked at the Angel. "Brought home another stray did ya? F'ne missy but ya do der expl'n to da Diva about dis. An' dis one we cana just patch up and heave off ta the shelta..."

Annie gripped James and pulled him close, sniffing as she did so. "Ya smell like a cannery boy...best get ya out dese wet tings befya drip all over my floor..."

Annie didn't let go, just short of shoved James through a nearby doorway. It turned out to be a large tiled laundry room. Annie pointed to a wide...well it looked like a shower with a high bottom edge. The flexable shower head was mounted at waist level.

"Get o'ta dose wet tings and wash ya'self. I'll get da butler ta get some dry tings fa ya." She slammed the door shut, leaving James to ponder.

*****
James camera gear was apparently moving slowly downwards, and then dropped. The lens went gold for a few moments. Then the LNS crew got what what looked like a Klatchian version of Barney cam. Apparently someone small had grabbed the camera and they were now running with it at about knee level.

*****
OOC: Artois...I don't know what you were planning on doing with her. But assuming she runs to her keepers in the Marshall's then she might go for the old Monte Orzka ferry.

James was suprised and shocked and thankful all at the same time, though he was unable to express any of these things as he was removed from the canal and could only nod when asked if he could walk.

He followed the cloaked girl to the small, apparently secure door, and managed to yelp as he shoved into the corner by 'Annie'.

He didn't quite follow anything that was going on and tried to protest a bit as he was being shoved into the laundry room "Wait, a minute, I need to get to a phone............."

He then stood in the laundry room and looked around. He shrugged, undressed and took a shower and tried as best he could to collect himself. After he was reasonably clean and warm, he looked around the laundry room for clothes, a robe, or something, he thought it'd be awful rude to just stand there naked.

He also momentarily lamented the loss of his suede jacket, suede doesen't take well to oily, fishy water and he was certain it was a complete loss. He might be able to file it as a traveling expense.

The laundry room door opened and the mime entered carrying a pile of clean clothes and a towel. He first held out the large white towel for James to dry himself with and seemed not to either care or notice James nudity. He took the wet towel and then handed James a pair of Blue boxers. The mime, in his white face mask and...all black suit stood quietly waiting for James to put them on before handing him a pair of dark navy sweatpants and a T-shirt that read "I love Drama" in large red print across the front.

The mime picked up James wet things off the floor and mimed holding a phone in one hand while dialing with the other. The man indicated James should follow him and walked out of the laundry room and up a short flight of stairs to a landing. The stairs continued up but the mime opened a door off the landing. It was a small work room with fitted cabinets and counters along three walls. In the center of the room was a metal topped work table.

The mime indicated a phone in the corner. He hit a button on the modern unit and then handed the handset to James before turning and placing James clothes out on the table where he began inspecting them.

****
The camera kept moving. It turned suddenly and vanished into a dark hallway. One could make out a steel fire door closing behind them. A moment later the camera stopped. It showed what looked like the corner of a lab.
"Here is your number three sir..." a young voice could be heard.
"Ah, thanks Timmy...what have you got there?"
"Found it in that big protest sir...looks like some fan'cin gear..."
"Mind if I take a look at it..."
"I found it...it's mine...but I trustya doc..."

The screen changed to show a pugish face with narrow frame glasses framing a pair of brown eyes. "Hello...this thing is on..." The man held the headset up to his mouth and said..."Hello?...is this thing online?"

LNS' Satellite 1 producer was dumbfounded " What in the hell? Switch to commentators, run the Villarreal story. I'll talk to these goofballs and see if we can get the camera back into the protest."

He paused and put on his head set and talked loudly (as the man hadn't put on the camera's headset, so he'd have to shout to be heard through the earpiece.)

"Hello!Sir? This equipment is property of LNS Sattelite 1 , we're a news station. This equipment was taken from our correspondent covering the riot in Port Olympus, he's been kidnapped. I wonder if you could help us? Oh, and it is on , but we aren't live at the moment."

*****

James dressed and read the t-shirt "Uh, yeah tanks." He followed the mime to the landing and then the phone.

"Thank you." He said as he took it. He dialed the number for the LNS Satellite 1 , he was connected and peromptly put on hold as the LNS newslines were flooded at the moment. Riots never ocurred in Ilek-Vaad and certainly no one had ever kidnapped a reporter and with the assassination attempt, military deployments , this story was quite literally developing a life of it's own.

The LNS was flooded with calls, most of then callers who were claiming to have spotted James.

****

Meanwhile the LNS ran this news story: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=9086041#post9086041

The proffessor nodded and put on the headphones. "Well, er...what riot? I mean there was a protest march outside but a riot? And Tim you haven't been kidnapping people have you?"

The camera swung to show a dirty boy of maybe five or six looking at camera with wide eyes. "Nah Doc, I found it..."

****
Klatchian News Union
Someone had noticed that LNS was claiming that "James Villarreal" had been kidnapped by anti-government terrorists in Port Olympus.

It was a sentational story, of course it was also LNS, home of the Llama who's face was the presently mounted to the dart board.

"You think someone kidnapped him?"

"Maybe Utical, to negotate getting their hands on..."

Everyone stopped commenting on the situation as LNS replayed the incident.

"Did they just call him fish boy...?"

"Oh...damn idiots...jumping the gun..."

"Sensationalist yellow journalists..." This got a look because it was a gossip columnist who said it.

The is a KCN Breaking News Bullitin. LNS is claiming one of their reporters has been kidnapped by anti-government terrorists. We take you live to Port Olympus and Jake Alwhite with more news. "Ah, it seems that a LNS reporter, James Villarreal is being reported kidnapped by LNS news. However, considering the crowd around me is more pissed at the Klatchians than the Vaadians. Presently we don't know who, or why they kidnapped this reporter. And some are questioning report of incidents by LNS since the Llama's infamous and inaccurate 'Utical Story'. We will keep you updated as this story develops...

In the background a man turned and walked into the News Union.

OOC: Olympians are calling about seeing James? How many with the area code for the Shades and demands for a few hundread thousand to be delivered in a paper sack in some back alley somwhere for his 'safe' return?

I guess a few people would have actually seen his little swim and call it in.

OOC: No, no , I meant like 'Elvis' sightings ;) I would also like to point out that no one has officially and definitively refuted Pat The Llama's Utical story. I mean, Utical hasn't even commented. AND the LNS news reports, reported that James was kidnapped by protesters and not terrorists, we only report the facts. As we see them.

IC:

The Producer replied "riot, protest, whatever. The fact remains that the protesters, rioters or whomever stripped our man of his equipment and hauled him to parts unknown.

There is a substantial reward for recovery of this equipment and we would also be generous to anyone that could locate James, especially if they did so with the camera running.

I'd be most appreciative of any help you could provide."

OOC: No, no , I meant like 'Elvis' sightings ;) I would also like to point out that no one has officially and definitively refuted Pat The Llama's Utical story. I mean, Utical hasn't even commented. AND the LNS news reports, reported that James was kidnapped by protesters and not terrorists, we only report the facts. As we see them.


OOC: Hmm? true but then most of the reporters know he's full of s***. I mean they likely looked around, wondered how the hell they got scooped in their own city...a few likely poked around and then started bad mouthing the Llama after they found out he was making their lives harder (Think Jason Blair)
Second: ' LNS Satellite 1 correspondent James Villarreal kidnapped by anti-government terrorists in Port Olympus. The whereabouts of the intrepid young stringer are currently unknown, we here at the LNS , all pray for the best.'

IC:
I'd be most appreciative of any help you could provide."
"A reward you say? Well Tim here needs the money...don't ya Tim..."
"Reward?..." Tim looked a bit confused.
"The people who own the camera want it back...but they'll pay you for finding it..."
Tim seemed to consider this for a moment and then nodded. "Okay..."
"They'll pay you even more if you go look for the man who lost the equipment."
"Oh...I gotta work..."
"As I do sir...Unfortunatly I need to get a report done on these Tiffid spores by the end of the week."
"My brotha would do it..."
"Oh...right then...well here..."

He handed Tim back the unit but stopped for a second. "Sir, if I hear you've cheated Tim or his brother...I'll have someone put a Klatchian Croc in your main control room. I don't appreciate people who rob the poor."

The man put the headset on Tim, it was almost too large to say on. He handed Tim a five krondor note and said, "As always, keep the change..."

And 'Tim cam' was off again, well this time they could see where he was going rather than where he had been. Tim took off down through a door and down a hallway.

OOC: Ah-ha! You didn't read the LNS news story did you, they toned it down a bit when it actually hit the news wires. It sounds like the Olympian journalists are just jealous of Pat the Llama and his ground breaking coverage!

IC:

James finally got through to his producer, after about twenty minutes.

"James! Where are you? We have a lead on your camera? What are they demanding for ransom?" The Producer shouted into the phone.

"What? Nothing, they threw me into a canal, and I was uh rescued. I'm okay now." James explained

There was a pause on the line "thrown into a canal? I guess we can spin that as attempted murder. There's some kid with your camera running aeound with it. I'll get him to sit still if I can and you can go get your camera. I'm bumping up the credit limit on your card, be generous to the kid, okay? Then get back and see if you can get anymore of the riot."

James looked at the mime going through his clothes "Protest sir, I'll see what I can do. I'm not entirely in possession of my pants and wallet."

There was another pause "Where are you at? What's the number?"

James shrugged "Somewhere in Port Olympus sir, I'll call you back in ten or twenty minutes."

He hung up and looked over at the mime "Is my wallet still in there?"

*****

The LNS Producer talked to Tim as he wandered off "Timmy, do you think you can go back to where you found the camera and wait for someone to come and get it? While you're there take all the pictures of people you want, there's a big reward for our equipment Timmy, but not if it gets broken, so keep away from anyone that tries to grab it, unless I tell you it's okay for them to take it."

He was hoping Tim would be just as unoticed as he did when he grabbed the camera, apparently he was familiar enough with the city that he could go unoticed.

He then sat back and pondered what James meant when he said that he wasn't in possession of his pants..................

OOC: Ah-ha! You didn't read the LNS news story did you, they toned it down a bit when it actually hit the news wires. It sounds like the Olympian journalists are just jealous of Pat the Llama and his ground breaking coverage!

OOC: Well I wrote that before I knew about the LNS news story on the other thread (And posted it just after you added the link). Probably Jealousy turned to professional anger at LNS coverage. Like I said, Jason Blair.


IC: "Un, uh...I got to get back to work..." Well Tim appeared to have a work ethic. Tim turned at a corner and went through another fire door. Up a set of metal stairs and out into the light of day. Someone yelled "Hey Kid..." but Tim didn't seem to stop.

Tim was back in the square. However, he was in the informal 'no man's land' that had formed between the protesters and the police. On one side was the fourteen foot tall iron fence and the steep, bush covered sides of Parliament Hill. Standing on a narrow path between the fence and the slope was a line of Parliamentary Police in riot gear. The only officers on this side of the fence were gathered around the front of the medieval stone gatehouse that protected the entrance road to Parliament Hill. Their were a few obvious police on the roof of the tram station, but the doors were safely behind steel security panels bridging the opening in the station's reinforced concrete wall.

The protesters stood about twelve feet from the fence line, they maintained that distance across the square, as though an imaginary barrier was keeping them in place. Picket signs with various slogans were being waved about. "Klatchians go home...Olympus for Olympians...Vrak is the Devil...The JDF are a bunch of moma's boys...Pigs...O'Booze's porky Pigs...." were some of the common chants. Really this protest seemed to be on the edge of turning into a riot, but was a bit too orderly to be called that yet.

The paving stones were covered with the rotting corpses of fish. It seems that the crowd was continually trying to hit the police behind the fence with some fish. Most either slammed sickly into the bars of the fence, or bounced off the wall of plastic sheilds. A few appeared to have been given way too high a trajectory and landed somewhere in the bushes, their silver bodies stark against the brownish green cover of the slope.


Tim had actually continued to run strait ahead. You could see him turn to the left and right, more intrested in keeping a view of both opposing sides ,and the flying fish, than helping out LNS. A moment later, Tim had skirted back into the protesters and then up into a building lobby.

The lobby of the building looked like it had been decorated in 1960 and then left to deterorate. Dark blue paint on the walls and pillars had numerous dings and cuts into it. The white floor tiles looked like they had not seen a coat of wax in the last four decades, some were chiped, cracked, or just missing, exposing the black adhesive below. A sunburst clock hung in the center of the lobby, over a circular wooden reception desk. It was empty a yellowed sign said "Back in never"

A few people milled about the lobby, either waiting for one of the elevators or standing in line for the bathrooms on the other side of lobby.

Tim made a beeline for what appeared to be the men's restroom. He pushed through the out door and into a carpeted space on the other side. The line continued across into the actual restroom, but Tim headed over towards a glass block window with a sofa set below it. A young man sat on a failing sofa with his legs streached out. A girl in typical goth dress was laying on the sofa with her head in his lap. They were both looking at cheap, disposable cell phones they had in their hands.

The older youth looked at Tim with a quizical look. "Hey T, what have you got there man..."
"A camera...the man on the other end needs to find somebody..."
"Who..."
"I don't know..."
The girl had turned her head and was looking at the gear. "Hey, that's a nice little set up kid...actually is that a sat-link...hell Ts gone big time Fred."
"I get a reward...but they want me to find some guy..." Tim explained to the two older kids.
"Hand it over...T."
"Okay...but we split fifty/fifty."
"Bro...the only thing we don't share is Triss..."
Triss righted herself..."Yeah, your a bit young for me T." Considering the girl looked to be jail bait herself...

After putting on the headset from his brother, Frank began to talk..."Alright man who is this and what's the offer?" He and one of the young men in line locked eyes across the room. The man in line turned and walked out of the bathroom. Triss looked at Frank and the gear, obviously her mind wasn't that young.

*******
The mime looked at James and then pointed to the wallet, change, and everything else that had been in his pockets in a small dish on the corner of table. Everything but James suede jacket had vanished, (actually it was now in the washing machine or waiting to be washed back in the laundry room). The jacket was laid out across the table and the mime was apparently mixing up something in a small glass bowl at one end.

As James hung up the phone, the mime stopped and walked towards the door motioning James to follow. They exited the room and went up the narrow staircase. At the next landing the mime opened a door. The space beyond was grand. fifteen foot high cealings with walls of demansk between magogany fittings. A formal staircase climed up from here to the upper floors.

A harsh female voice filled the space from an adjoining room. "...Any man or beast who meddles with my daughter shall discover his manhood removed and his skin stripped from his body...!" The mime knocked on the doorway that the voice was coming from.

Colin watched the crowd through the fish, and was grateful to be out of that. He could already catch the first hint of the smell and he didn't want to think about what it smelled like up close.

The parking garage was still pretty quiet though, and it looked like it was as safe a vantage point as he was going to find and still be close enough to carry out his mission.

Picking up his binocs, he began looking out to see if any government reinforcements were coming. Reports of Vrakian tanks entering the city were coming in from his office, and he hoped he wasn't going to see a reenactment of Tianamen Square.

The LNS Producer shifte from coercing Tim to coercing Frank.

"This camera belongs to the LNS Satellite 1 News Channel. It was taken from our reporter while he was covering the protests in Government Square, the protestors threw him into a canal. What I need is someone to take the camera back to the protest, I can have the reporter, James, meet you there. I'll make it worth your while to return the camera and keep a feed going of the protest until James gets there.

Can you do that?"

*****

James nodded "Oh thanks." and followed the mime. He waited patiently to see whoever it was that had so graciously lent him their hospitality.

"Well your at the protests man...or at least the bathroom line..." Frank was holding the camera and panning across the small room. "So how much for all of this helping man?" Frank stood and looked at Triss. "So what do you thing of all of this?"

Frank paused for a second looking at the crowd more closely. "Hey those guys who threw your man in the Canal. They didn't happen to call him Fishboy did they?"

Triss looked at Frank as he said it..."T get back to work..." She watched Tim run off back out of the room and looked at Frank, "poppers?" she asked with some concern.

*****
The knock was answered with a polite "Come in..." The mime led James into a large sitting room. There were two people in the room. A woman in a kimono, who looked very much like the younger woman who had pulled him from the canal, and a thin bald headed man dressed in a powder blue suit.

Both stood up as James entered the room. "Ah thank you Barnes..." The woman said as she strolled towards James. "So you are the newest stray my Cassandra has rescued." She extended a hand towards James, palm down. Upclose one could see that she was likely in her late fourties, but the well applied make-up made it quite difficult at any distance.

The man in the blue suit stood and adjusted his huge glasses as he waited for James to introduce himself. He wore a smirk of bemusement, as though anticipating something.

The convoy of tanks and troops rumbled past the Midlonian position. The major, commanding a wide field of view from the lead tank turrent saluted smartly to the Midlonian commander. All of the other tank commanders followed suit, as well as the grunts that marched by. Vrak was keenly aware that they perhaps came off as pushy to the other states, but they were, for the most part, loyal and felt a kinship among them.

Still, what greeted the major as they rounded the bend near the presidential palace itself was shocking. Port Olympus never had a protest this big before from what he could remember. He jaw dropped then tightened as he saw King Vrak in effigy being mocked and then burned. Grimly, he contacted a certain Intelligence Sub-director who was probably already aware of the situation. A brief exchange, and then a couple swift arm motions. The other tanks closed in behind and stopped but kept their engines running. The infantry began to fasten bayonets on their machine guns. They had been trained in riot control, but for the moment, did not have enough numbers.

That equation would soon change since tens of thousands of reserve troops just went active.

As for the presidential palace itself, the King’s Own secured the immediate perimeter. On the roofs, the SOAT-bots stationed themselves, armed with RPGs. Still others went inside the palace itself and occupied windows facing the crowd. Staff inside were sent to the safest parts of the building while the outside doors were bolted shut.

====

-Ah yes, the reserve has been activated.
-We should leave the city, sub-director.
-No. We are quite safe here. Few even know that we are here and besides, our position is hard to take. Still, prepare the bunker in case we need to go down there.

Still, what greeted the major as they rounded the bend near the presidential palace itself was shocking. Port Olympus never had a protest this big before from what he could remember. He jaw dropped then tightened as he saw King Vrak in effigy being mocked and then burned. Grimly, he contacted a certain Intelligence Sub-director who was probably already aware of the situation. A brief exchange, and then a couple swift arm motions. The other tanks closed in behind and stopped but kept their engines running. The infantry began to fasten bayonets on their machine guns. They had been trained in riot control, but for the moment, did not have enough numbers.

Colin watched with alarm as the tanks rounded the corner. At least they had stopped. It suddenly occured to him that a parking garage might not be the best vantage point. At least it was higher than the street though.

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

At the School for Esoteric Knowledge, the atmosphere quickly became more somber as Colin's webcam showed the tanks rumble up. Tiffany frowned sharply and looked over at her boss, who looked equally grim.

"Tiffany, better get me the Office of Klatchian Affairs. Things may be about to get ugly." He ordered, his deep voice suddenly becoming very calm.

That worried Tiffany and her staff. He always became calmer when something bad was about to happen. "Ok General, Sandra, get them on the phone quick."

General Waters typed in another command and a new screen came up. Overhead views of Port Olympus. "Tighten that down, I want to see what they have got on the ground there."

The resolution tightened and soon Waters began counting tanks and men. "I want to see the commanders face." he ordered, and soon the Majors face was on the screen.

The LNS Producer paused and hit the mute "What money do they use in Port Olympus? Kronors? Krondors? Condors?"

His aide shrugged.

He hit the mute again "How does two thousand Kronor sound?"

*****

James stepped forward and nodded "I suppose so ma'am, I certainly do appreciate , uh, Cassandra's help and your hospitality."

He then took her hand and shook it "I'm James Villarreall, I'm a reporter for LNS Satellite news. I hope I haven't inconvienanced you any?"

The LNS Producer paused and hit the mute "What money do they use in Port Olympus? Kronors? Krondors? Condors?"

His aide shrugged.

He hit the mute again "How does two thousand Kronor sound?"


"If you've pissed off a bunch a poppers then I want four thou man..." Frank stated as he walked out of the bathroom and back into the lobby. One could see the crowd out of the glass doors.

*****

James stepped forward and nodded "I suppose so ma'am, I certainly do appreciate , uh, Cassandra's help and your hospitality."

He then took her hand and shook it "I'm James Villarreall, I'm a reporter for LNS Satellite news. I hope I haven't inconvienanced you any?"

The woman gave James a haughty look as he shook her hand. "Quite charmed I assure you..." it didn't sound like she was charmed at all, more like the exact opposite.

"A reporter, how nice...please take a seat Mister Villarreall." She turned to go back to her seat but the man in blue motioned something with his hand. She stopped and looked at him with a puzzled look. The man faked a cough covering something that sounded like *Ilek-Vaad*"

"Oh, yes how silly of me, Mister Villarreall this is Howard Hopkins and I am Angela Barrymore." She then sat down, "Of course you've meet my daughter Cassandra ap Avermore, whereever she has gotten off to."

Howard Hopkins sat down at the edge of his chair. "Quite intresting really...." The man's voice was high pitched and his hand was moving about in such away to indicate he wasn't intrested in women romatically. "what brings you to Port Olympus sir, and into our canals?"

****
OOC: Quickly here is the map (http://www.eng.auburn.edu/users/donatgw/maps/parhill2.jpg) of the Parliament Hill area. Six is the Presidential Palace, 17 is the Klatchian Geographic, 14 in the building (and parking garage) that Frank is in. The Vrakian Quarter would be the area of the city next to Parliament hill at the top center of the map (from the side of 17 up to the pink line)
Government Square is the area of blue between 17 and 14)

IC: Several people in the crowd had noticed the Vrakian tanks waiting. A few minutes later there was a smaller group standing on the road between the Vrakians and the protest. They began to chant in vrakian:

-Hey don't you know the deal
-Vrak f**** with a seal
-Vrak screams to Bok
-When he takes that seal's big c***

There were two odd things about this group. They appeared to be wearing shirts and jeans like everyone else but almost a bit too crisp, as though they were wearing a uniform.

ooc
does this mean Colin is in the parking garage next to the building Frank is in?

IC
Colin picked watched the tanks for the most part. They troubled him. He could still see the rowdy crowd, and a new group had arrived and was shouting something he couldn't make out.

Moments later his phone rang. "Colin, check your laptop, I sent you a link you need to see." Mindy, his secretary, told him. "The IVers are broadcasting from down there somewhere and you need to hear what they are saying."

Colin thanked his girlfriend / secretary, and turned on his laptop and activated his satallite hookup to his service provider. Within a couple of minutes he was watching the live webcast. Now he had another observer essentially to let him know what was happening.

The Producer hit mute again "What's the exchange rate?"

His aid made something up "Uhm, 1.65 kronors to the Drachma sir."

He nodded and hit the mute again "Okay kid, it's a deal, but get that camera back out into the square, we've probably missed a lot already!"

*****

Jmaes watched the exchange between Howard Hopkins and Angela Barrymore and nodded when Angela introduced herself and Howard " Very pleased to meet both of you. I'm very greatful for your hospitality."

He smiled at Howard politely, he didn't seem to understand the hand gestures "Well, I was in Government Square covering the anti-Vrakian protest. I tried to interview a couple of protesters when a bunch of them grabbed me and threw me into the canal. I mean really, isn't the point of a protest to get attention? What more attention could they hope for than a satellite news channel?"

OOC: I could only see the government building a parking ramp above ground in the center part of the city, so likely they are part of the same 'complex'

I should have gone for five thousand Frank thought bitterly for a moment. He turned to Triss, pulled her close and gave her a kiss. Triss pulled back, smiled at Frank and said, "I need to get back to work...be careful."

Frank shook his head and walked to a small metal door in the corner. He walked up a flight of stairs and out into a dimly lit hallway. Glass doors with A, B, C lined both sides...Frank approached F. He slammed open the door and stepped in.

It was a small office with four gray metal desks set facing each other across a narrow walkway. The walls appeared to be made of tan glazed concrete blocks. A few bookcases lined both side walls, while the far wall consisted of a set of windows crossing from one wall to the other. Underneath was some type of heater or airhandling unit.

Two men and one woman were standing at the broad window of the office looking out on the protest. Each stood in long black pants and a white dress shirt, as though in some sort of civilian form of uniform. They turned as the door slammed against the wall, "Alright, we have reports of supporters of illegal demonstrations on this floor,"

Everyone just blinked at him. "I am here to assure that all individuals on this floor have a form CR145 dash 89 type C long form with an attached 12Z Affidavit or equivilant."
"Er, why do you have a camera?" The woman began, looking at Frank up and down..."
"Hey aren't you that kid who is always in the bathroom"

"I am Officer Patterson of the Federal Treasury, Compliance Department. I tend to take off hours in the bathroom so that I can monitor new faces around here and watch for those who may be attempting to fleece the State. You bozo's always drop your guard in the bathroom."

Frank was attempting to give his best impression of some unhappy police officer dealing with some idiotic paper pushers. Frank took a seat on the corner of a desk and stared at them all. "The camera is to be used to verify that you are Federal Employee's if you do not have your CR145 available for inspection." He panned into each of their faces with apparent semi-intrest.

"Er...so...your going to call in our names and our pictures if we don't have a...CR145..." one man followed the logic.

"And verify that we are registered employee's?" the woman continued.

"Part of the O'Booze's new changes...of course I understand most people on this floor thought their CR145 was to be kept at home not at the office..." Frank added in an offhanded freindly manner.

"Who told you that?" The second man added to the conversation.

"One of the boys in 3-H..." Frank pointed up at where the office would be above him.

The group of three all looked at each other and then at Frank. The woman spoke first,"Oh....yeah...I think mine is at home..."

"mine too..."
"That explains why I haven't seen in recently, I must have it in my personal files..."
All three looked at Frank with smiling freindly faces and a bit of apprehension.

"Fine, fine...but I can't have you in the building until you have the forms with you...or I can just call in to get your identification..."

"You know...I think it would be best if we all verified that we have our er..."
"CR145 dash 89 type C long form with an attached 12Z Affidavit or equivilant." Frank reiterated.
"Yeah, plus we can't get any work done with...you know all the screaming..."
"And the smell..."
The three people had moved away from the window and were grabbing things off their desks. Frank just smiled at them as they all appeared to get ready to leave.

"Well then I will see you all tommorrow with the appropriate forms then?" Frank added to hurry them out the door.
"Yeah..."
"You got it..."
"Why of course..."

Frank closed the door behind the last one..."Now then I give you a nice safe view of the protest." Frank moved over to the window and sat down on the ledge. It was about 19 feet above the heads of the crowd with a great view of the square, close but one could see the Vrakian tanks and troops mustering in the distance. "Ah, it seems burning old fish face has pissed of the Walruses...now we get to see Vrakian armor versus..." He panned down across the crowd. "People who really shouldn't let others talk them into protesting..."

*****
Angela looked at James with dismay. "How uncivilized, why throwing a decent man as yourself into the canal."

Howard shook his head, "unfortunatly I am a man who loves drama and comedy. Truthfully I have no idea why someone would not want to tell the whole world why...seldom does any man or woman get the chance to offer a soliliquy upon their mundane lives as that..."

"Who's mundane life?" a deep rough bass of a voice interupted. "I hope Howard you are not saying your life has been mundane. With your sex life your biography will be the scandal of the century."

The figure appeared from another room. It was a tall man, with short cropped gray hair. He was clean shaven and a slight limp in his left leg. He wore just a simple blue oxford shirt and slacks. The man carried a cane in his right hand to help with the bad leg. The figure looked at James with a a pair of green calculating eyes that narrowed when they identified the shirt James was wearing.

The man walked over to a small cylinder desk and opened it. Inside were several crystal decanters of varying alcholic beverages. "Now then, perhaps someone would like to inform me who the vagabond in my daughter's shirt is?" He asked as he fixed himself a drink. The voice was harsh and the man wasn't looking at James as he said so.

"Oh, this is a reporter dear...A mister James Villarreall..."

The man turned and looked at James with a hard glare, "So your my daughter's new boyfreind then?"

Howard *coughed* "Ah no James was just telling us how Cassandra pulled him from the canal after someone threw him in...a new version of the numerous puppies before him..." He attempted to explain.

"Ahhhh, well James sorry for my earlier gruff there...Paul ap Avermore. No offence but wearing my daughter's shirt and you being freshly showered threw me..." ap Avermore's tone had become a touch warmer.

"So James what is your poison?" He asked in a freindly manner, "Howard you want a vodka martini as usual."

Several people in the crowd had noticed the Vrakian tanks waiting. A few minutes later there was a smaller group standing on the road between the Vrakians and the protest. They began to chant in vrakian:

-Hey don't you know the deal
-Vrak f**** with a seal
-Vrak screams to Bok
-When he takes that seal's big c***

There were two odd things about this group. They appeared to be wearing shirts and jeans like everyone else but almost a bit too crisp, as though they were wearing a uniform.

The major didn't care for the insults but yet reminded himself that he had to wait until more troops arrived. After all, the best way to disperse a crowd is not to drive it into a corner but to push a wedge through it, and then scatter the people through alleys, thus making the groups smaller. So, he couldn't do anything provocative...yet.

Still, he ordered that a ring of grunts form a perimeter around the tanks. A watchful eye was kept on the nearest jeering group. He only hoped that someone fromt the VIS would get down here on the ground and start taking pictures.

At the presidential palace itself, it was felt that the building and personnel would be safe. Videocameras on the building itself were recording the ever-growing mob and the results were fed live to a certain Sub-Director.

At the edge of the city, a massive convoy of troop trucks were approaching.

The LNS Producer was delighted "Very good, grade a work indeed. Zoom in on those tanks and Vrakian troops, that'll look good."

He paused to put the live feed back on the screen in the picture in picture next to the Satellite 1 commentators.

"Zoom in on some of the protesters, let's if the tanks have panicked them, this will be a riot yet!"

He couldn't help but sound excited, news excited him and so did getting a good story.

"By the way, what is the address of the building you're in, I'll get my man over there right away."

*****

"I could go for a scotch sir." He responded to Paul "Very pleased to meet you as well. I was just saying how greatful I was to be rescued by your daughter. I thought I was done for.

I didn't realize that being a reporter in Port Olympus was so dangerous, I'm used to gruff responses , but I've never been thrown in a canal before."

He paused

"I don't mean to sound rude, but I should probably be heading back to the protest."

Frank did as he was told. The camera zoomed down the street to show the Vrakian tanks off in the distance. Then he panned down. Four hundread yards from the tank was a wall of protesters three or four feet thick with a group holding large signs up right behind them. Then the street turned empty for another fourty yards before the edge of the main protest.

Between the smaller group and the larger were a few young people in black standing about. Directing people who came out onto the street at the intersection towards the main protest.

"Poppers" Frank commented. Actually most of the protesters seemed to be enjoying themselves and hadn't actually noticed the tanks. Likely due to the effecive bulk of the Klatchian Geographic building, and the signs the hecklers were holding up.

"I don't don't know the address, it's the civil service building. Everyone knows where the civil service building is..."

*****
Paul turned and poured the scotch. He stood there quietly mulling over something before speaking again. Angela began to chuckle, "my dear boy things are always falling or getting thrown into that canal. Usually it is a drunk who drives off it...but really...I mean the thing is only what four or five feet deep.

Howard leaned back, "A bit more than that, you forget Tina Bryson lost control of her Audi one night and went in...with me as her passenger."

"My god what were you doing with that ham of an actress...she...she belongs dancing on a pole, not on the boards like a true proffessional."

"First, Tina was still just a model back then. And what I was doing with her will remain for my memiors...which you can all damn well pay for. But in reality my dear James you were not in that much danger. Unless you're inebriated or can't do a decent doggy paddle.

Paul had been looking out the window for a few seconds then turned, returning to the conversation.

"Why rush off back into the protest, where they will likely just stuff you into a garbage can next time? Or maybe the sewer." He handed Howard the scotch to take over to James.

"After all, every T.V. reporter and semi-literiate hack is covering the protests..."Paul looked at Howard and his wife.

"If you'll excuse us, I'd like James to see something..."

The Producer queried Frank "Poppers? You said that before, who are they? Elaborate as much as you can about who and what you see in the crowd, we'll put you on live! What's your name? You can be LNS' new Port Olympus stringer! How's that sound? With a salary and a budget!"

The producer wanted to squeeze as much out of Frank as he could, this could be a great stiry, especially if those tanks rolled in.

*****

"It seemed deeper than that? It had a strong current." James stated as he took the scotch "Thank, and I should get back because, well, it is my job. I can't just blow off work because I got a little assaulted and wet, there are people depending on me."

He looked inquisitive as Paul asked the others to leave. He thought to himself 'If he starts to undo his trousers............I'm running.'

Frank paused for a second, "I'll beleive ya when I see the paperwork man...But the name is Frank Narvane if you want to know..." He then began to iterate what was going on with far more insight into who was going on.
"Alright, you see these guys in their black duds...pretty boys but look like they could murder you without giving it a second thought...those are poppers...er...they go to the prepschools...their usually seniors or nasty lower preps who make and enforce the rules of the schools. Can turn right nasty on a shades rat like me..."

He panned into a group near the front..."Here we see some over enthusastic guys looks like kids from the outer...the outer rim...kids of the working stiffs with honest jobs and such. You see the couple of girls their with? Debs...or debutants, basicly the future social calender girls of the city. To be a Deb you must be pretty, rich and from a good family, oh and being a Deb and a popper is well known."

He turned his camera down to the rest of the crowd, a few older people showed up. "Ah, see the guy standing there trying to look like a crowd member...that's a Marshall...you can tell because everyone is avoiding him like the plauge." There was another pause at Frank's end.
"You know...the poppers are fairly well distributed through this crowd...rubbing elbows and such with all sorts...they usually stick with their own kind."

******
"Of course dear...I and Howard need to finish up this reading." She waved them both off with a flirt of a wave before picking up the stacked and stapled papers at her side.

Paul nodded to his wife and waved for James to follow him. They went through a wide pair of doors into a library. It had a vaulted cealing with high bookshelves and four tall windows that looked down on the street below.

"You see James there are men who follow a story, and those that find a story..." They then entered a small study. A large desk sat next to a marble fireplace with several vistors seats aranged such that the sunlight from the windows would be in the visitor's eyes. On each side of the fireplace was a bookcase.

Paul walked up to one and swung it away from the wall. Behind the bookcase was a stack of equipment of varying kinds. Paul leaned over and turned a knob. Voices started to fill the space from several speakers.

This is CW A98...reporting possible 10-44 Bravo at Yelta Terrace number 3129, possible airborne agent....over

Paul dropped into the leather chair behind the desk and sipped his whiskey. "10-44 is a multiple homicide...Bravo means no suspects at scene and Yelta Terrace is on the south edge of the city...." He explained

This is CW Command, calling in for an available unit, we have a 999 report of a possible 10-42 Bravo found at 15c Chapelpark street....please respond...over
"Single victim, gunshot and I beleive they just crossed the fifty mark today." Paul said as he leaned back and pulled out a remote. The eight screens built behind the bookcase came on to show various news channels.
Almost all were showing the scenes in Government Square, or were reporting on it across their bottom tickers. The bottom right screen switched to LNS Sat 1. "Ah, well you seem to have a reporter in the civil service building..." Paul commented dryly.

CW Command, this is Commander Braddock, better pull some boys off the boats and get them moving to those last two 10-40's...over called out across the speakers.

"....better post than everyone else, can actually see people and the whole crowd...of course it sounds as if bodies are stacking up like cords of wood down at the morgue."
ap Avermore sipped his drink again and turned his gaze to James.

The Producer smiled "Mr. Narvane, there is one thing that we take seriously in the Free Republic and that is that we honour our comitments. The job is yours if you want it, we 've been looking for a Port Olympus native correspondent since The Nachxa bought his house in the shades.

Now, you say these poppers, do you recognize any of them? Can you names to faces? It looks like they may be organizing things they way they're moving around and they look vaguely like the type that hoisted James. What do you think? "

The blunt plain talking Frank would play well with the audience in Ilek-Vaad

"Being from the Shades, what did you think of The Nachxa's purchase?"

*****

James followed and took a swallow of the scotch, better than the J&B that he normally bought himself. He took a seat and watched Paul at his equipment and listened intently.

"All those murders? Who are the victims? Is it a coup d'etat? What is really going on?"

He paused and watched the LNS feed "Yeah, my producer said someone had recovered my camera and they were going to try and convince to get back and keep filiming until I got there."

He looked thoughtfully at Paul "But I don't think the real story is in that square, from what you've shown me here. It looks like a distraction."

Frank sniffed, "listen er...what's your name...I don't know you...you don't know me man, and I don't know your rep. See a runner, and that's what I am, is dependent on his rep. You've got to have a good rep man or your not going to be running for anybody. But you also have to know who your running for..." The camera moved a bit as Frank shrugged.

"So you might have a rep as good as a gold griffen man, but then a twisted pollux would say he has a rep as good too, and it wouldn't be worth a her-head's crap man...so like I said, if ya want to give me a job...put a contract under my nose man..."

Frank paused looking at others around the crowd. It appeared more people were leaving than comming at the edge of the crowd near the civil service building.

"First, I don't know any poppers man. Poppers use wiggles, er underclassmen to do their running, they don't hire it done. Second, poppers throw guys who show up at prep parties smelling either too coloned or what have you into the water all the time, call them fish boy. Sometimes they do it to shades rats who cross their path. So i'd say the poppers thought your boys James smelled and had him tossed."

Frank paused for a second and then asked, "Who is the Naxcha? Your King or something man?"

*****

Paul turned in his chair, swinging slightly back and fourth. "I am not a reporter, you are sir. In truth I am violating the Sacred Orders that I am sworn to uphold." The man was staring strait into James's eyes.

"However, I don't think my equals will be too upset about you accidentially overhearing a City Watch band radio in my study while your clothes were being washed, which is exaclty what just happened isn't it James?"

The Producer sighed "Seeing as I'm in Lassic and you are in Port Olympus, I don't think I can just pop in and give you a contract. For the reward and the contract, you'll just have to trust me, until I get my man where you are.

As for The Nachxa, he is the Special Envoy of the Republican Council. We don't have kings and nobility in the Free Republic. He's a diploamt for the state and a rich philanthropist in his spare time."

*****

James nodded "Of course, I only overheard it."

James thought that was beginning to understand what was really going on in Port Olympus.

"I wasn't expectin' ya to put one under my nose this minute man..." Frank panned back across the crowd again slowly.

"And this Nachxa fellow, I've never heard of a part time rich philanthropist, or a rich diplomat. How did he make his money? Or is he just some bloke who inherited a ton of cash..." Frank was now zooming in on a busty young woman who was jumping up and down in shirt that was a bit too tight.

**********
"Quite good...." Paul sat quietly for a moment and then coughed when James hadn't risen. "If you'll excuse me I have some buisness to attend to..."

Paul stood and hobbled over to the fireplace. His hand hit a small discrete button. A moment later the mime appeared again, "Ah good, Barnes please take Mister...er James...to the phone. He likely has some more phone calls to make."

As Barnes turned to led James out of the room, Paul made a comment as he hobbled back to his desk. "The Krooked Kroc is the hangout for most of the off duty officers of the City Watch....just remember to lose a few hands of darts before you start buying them drinks..."

The mime led James out of the study and back into the central hall. He pointed to a small door off the first landing, which proved to be a small three foot wide space with a seat and a phone. The mime bussied himself with dusting the immaculate furniture of the hall again.

The Producer chukled "Uhm, Frank, could you keep the camera on the tanks and the crowd? We aren't Girls Gone Wild."

He admired Frank's roving eye "Hold on Frank, I've got a call from James in Port Olympus........

****

James thanked Paul and followed the Mime to the phone, he thanked him and took a seat and called the station again, this time we connected immediately to the Producer.

"I think I'm just about to head out as soon as my clothes are dry, where should I meet the kid with my camera?" James queried

"Well the square is being sealed off by Vrakian armor and troops, so I doubt you can actually get back in there, go to your hotel and I'll send him there as soon as he can get free of the protest." The Producer thought Frank's local 'flavour' was good for the protest coverage anyhow.

"There is something else, there have been just over fifty kilings in the city today, I can't say they are connected yet, but I'm working on it.I think the protest is just a decoy." James thought he should at least inform the Producer, he wasn't planning on giving the protest much more time in light of the murders.

The Producer sounded puzzled "Decoy? For who?"

*****

The producer got back to Farnk for a minute. "Go ahead and stay with the protest until it gets too dangerous and then get out of there and meet my reporter, james, at the 'Best Western' downtown (every city has a Best Western) and he'll take care of you. Just ask for James Villarreall and they should point you to his room and you can get your compensation there."

"That buxom blond ain't a Girl's Gone Wild man...that girl is keeping contact with all of the poppers in the crowd man." Frank paused as he zoomed out around her. "Somewhere right there is the boss of this whole deal...and you saw Triss...you think I am going to start taking pictures of other girls with her in my bed? I want to keep my balls man."

Frank paused again, "Er okay..Best Western..." He shrugged and moved back to the Vrakian tanks.

(OOC: Well Atlanta has so many Merriott residence inns downtown that it is dasterly confusing....And there is no Best Western here...we have a Garden Hilton but no Best Western)

*****
The mime had vanished again, leaving James by himself in the hall.

The producer paused "Oh, well good work then. Just keep an eye on things and if there is any shooting or any sort of danger , don't risk too much, get out of there when and if it starts to get bad.

Deadmen can't collect rewards or sign contracts."

*****

James looked around in the hall, he looked over anything that looked interesting and tried a few doors, quietly, he was a reporter and curious on top of that, making him downright nosy at times.

OOC:
Atlanta Georgia? There are two! They're EVERYWHERE! AHHHHHHHHH!


Best Western Inn At The Peachtrees
330 W Peachtree Street NW
Atlanta, Georgia, 30308-3517, United States


Best Western Granada Suite Hotel -
Downtown
1302 W Peachtree Street NW
Atlanta, Georgia, 30309-2902, United States

"Well if O'Booze is smart he'll turn on the water before the Vrakians march in. If not...well they'll be a lot of people hurt'n tonight..."

Frank commented dryly.
*******
Well it was a typical wealthy household. There were a few tables around the perimiter of the room, and a heavy oval table in the center. A few glass vases of varing colors were about the place. Most of the tables had drawers with various nicknacks and such. There was a statue of a nude female in one corner holding up a tray. Several buisness cards sat in it, from various people with the title Producer, Director, Author, Poet, Playwright.

Next to the statue was an archway with a wide, broad stairway beyond. It went down. Obviously to the front door of the house. The doorway to the drawing room in the adjacent wall was still open. Angela could be heard reading out lines. "The Ursas shall fear me...fear me or die...."

The door next to the archway opened into the library. There was a small door back into the study. The door under the stairs back down to the servants area was semi-hidden, mimicking the wainscotting of the room. There was a closed door off near the stairs.

Behind this was the dining room, a bow window at one end was the only natural source of light to a room filled with dark, heavy furniture. There were two small doors in the back wall of the room, oposite the window.

These opened into a large white tilled room with black countertops and wood cabinets. Obviously the serving pantry for the dining room. There was another set of stairs going down off of this room.

As James climbed down, he found himself in the same space that he had been earlier. The mime was standing at the table with the sude jacket on a hanger. On the table was a pile of clothing freshly washed and pressed. The mime pointed to them and indicated James should get dressed.

OOC: I wasn't saying I was in Atlanta...actually we do have a Best Western Now but it's in an odd spot off 280 and not I-65.

Also I wonder how many people get confused in Atlanta between Peachtree NW and Peachtree NE? And the fact that defining 'downtown' is sort of hard unless you see the captial dome.

An office in York

Six had been stung. CSD-6 was very unhappy, as such several rather unpleasant plans were afoot. Six's leader was a man named Victor Deadman, a name some found ironic.

His Office in York commanded a good view over the city, this was helped by the fact that it was on a hill. York was a mining city, or had been originally, and was built in a chain of waterless foothills. It was a fairly pleasant city though, despite the usual inhospitable Dyellian climate. The place was vibrant with a city council who strove ceaselessly to beautify the city, there were evening shows of all descriptions, good Restaurants, and considerably less drunkeness than in places such as Cyro (The Yorkists liked to claim it was because the only thing to do in the capital was drink to excess).

Deadman sniffed, turning away from the office. His chief advisor was with him now, Caroline D'Etiene, was one of those women who Felix recruited for their looks, she had blue eyes which immediately drew glances in Dyelli Beybi, and chestnut-brown hair, lighter than the typical. Combine that with fine Dyellian features and a body that immediately evoked the wrong kind of thoughts for a Commanding officer, and she was, (not least of all to Deadman) completely irresistable. His attachment to his junior was possibly the worst move Deadman would ever make, "I'm not so sure, about this whole framing of one of our own business." he grumbled.

"Victor." she gave him a reproachful look, "You know the mark is a traitor, Felix is too soft to do anything about them, he needs strong people like you to fix the situation."

"You're right I suppose." he gave her a suspicious look, "You know the mark looks a lot like you."

"It's the eyes." she assured the Senior Commisaar.

"Who's going to disempower the primary target, I left that over to you, have you decided yet?"

She nodded, "I will."

It was Deadman's turn to give his junior a reproachful look, "You? Give it to a junior, if anything goes wrong it will go very badly for the Commisaars involved, this will have to be denied."

"Thats why I need to be there, it won't go wrong." she assured Deadman... nothing could go wrong, if things went even mostly according to plan, she would have her revenge, it was five years in the making, and it was good.

Deadman was useful for now, he'd take the flak when Dzerzhinsky found out, D'Etiene herself would then be in a very good position to take over Six, but that was just the icing on the cake. Revenge was a dish best served cold, and after 5 years it had a distinctly delicious flavour that made her shiver in anticipation.

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

Meanwhile in Cyro, Dzerzhinsky had woken up to rather unpleasant news, someone had been poking at Parliament, that was his job, and they were now busily, rushing through a rather worrying bill legalising the death penalty in extreme cases of Cheka agents acting 'without orders'. It was a clear attempt to clip his wings, in his opinion, and while he couldn't stop the bill at such short notice, especially with the likelihood of bribes having changed hands, he could sniff around and find up exactly who was pushing for it. Eamon and Adelle Collins were possibilities, but a few words with the gruff High Chancellor revealed the bill came completely out of the blue for him as well (not that that entirely ruled his wife out).

If Deadman's recent reports from Port Olympus meant it was probably the Klatchian Marshalls. The truth though was very different.

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

In the background other forces were moving, the rabidly anti-Klatchian Dyellian Republican Association (DRA), a terrorist cell that had lain dormant and below anyone's radar for years was active again, as was the Gladius Deii or GD. They were only whispers at the moment, but rumour had it the only two real Dyelli Beybian terrorist groups were allied and had their eyes on forcing a split from Klatch while ties with the other States were strained.

The producer prodded Frank for more info "Well, what do you think is likely to happen? Given you knowledge of the city and it's inhabitants, what is the most likely outcome. Do you think we'll see more protests after this one, what exactly do you think motivated it in the first place?"

*****

James thanked Barnes and quickly got dressed in his own, now drier and cleaner clothes. He stood and looked inquisitively at the mime "Well, I suppose I should be on my way then, I don't want to be a bother to anyone."

Frank seemed to pause for a moment. "Some here haven't been happy since the last Ursa lord was killed off by Vrak. First I thought it was a bunch a kids just letting loose with all their fustrations at the Klatch...now...I don't know man...but in this city the ones who know aren't going to be the ones who are talkin man.

****
The jacket still slightly smelled of fish. The mime handed James a card with an address for Mr. Howe's Dry Cleaning. He then opened the door back onto the orginal stairs and started to show James to the door. But was stopped by Cassandra.

The young woman entered the hall between the mime and James. "What is going on here?" She asked with an odd look in her eyes.

"Well Frank, if I've learned anything it's that there are always people that want to talk in any circle. The trick is finding them and finding out what it's going to take to get them to talk." The producer mused, mostly to himself "But for now we'll just focus on this little protest and see where it goes, we'll have plenty of time to find the blabbermouths later."

*****
James looked at the card and thanked Barnes. He paused when Cassandra stepped in as he was leaving.

"Well, um, I was just leaving. I'm very thankful for all your help and practically saving my life, but I do have to get back to work." He smiled weakly "The news doesen't report itself.

I'd give you one of my cards, but they're sort of ruined. I could stop back by when I get new ones printed up? It looks like I'll be Port Olympus for a while with everything that's going on."

He was concerned about the strange look in her eyes.

Frank began to wonder if the guy on the other end of the line had ever been sold some wonderful lake property in Deylli Beybi. He panned back around a few times, the Vrakians were just sitting there...and the crowd was apparently deciding that chanting slogans and throwing fish was getting a bit boring.

*****
"Oh, well...but the city cabs aren't running, and the metro system in this part of the city was shut down because of an accident." Cassandra stated, "Where are you going? Not back to the protest...they'll throw you in the sewer next time."

OOC: Why are you always down on DB? ;)

IC:

The producer watched Frank panning back and forth, it was giving a good backdrop to the commentators that were now spewing opinions about the state of affairs in Port Olympus and estimating the body count that would result from Vrakian retaliation, that everyone was fairly certain would come. It seemed inevitable.

"Hey Frank, what were you doing at the protest in the first place? How did you find out about it?" It hadn't ocurred to ask him before, but it did now.

*****

James shook his head "No, back to my hotel. I'm meeting the guy that recovered my equipment there, then I have some leads to follow up on, about what's been happening around Port Olympus outside of the protest. I think this is thing is bigger than just a protest."

He was wondering about the assassins guild, that he had heard about. Lots of deaths, possibly politically motivated, sounded like a safe bet, but he wanted to be sure.

"I'm sure I'll be okay, I don't have my camera to protect now, so I can fight back." He said with a smile, what he was really thinking is 'now I can run, no need to take pictures'.

OOC: Most of it is desert...well I guess they do have lake property now. But if I said 'buying stock in the Thunderbay to Harrisville Railroad would you get the joke? No...And anyway D.B. and Vrak are really the last of the true Klatchians. Us Alconians used to be the token sanies but that rank seems to have been diluted.

IC:Frank actually turned the camera towards himself. "Do I look like I am going to spend my day standing around throwing dead fish at a bunch of nobbers like some second rate fool out ah damn public school today?" He turned the camera back out onto the crowd.

Frank shook his head, "I am a runner, someone who runs for people to get things. I do my run'in out of the men's room here cause' its a great location location location." He paused for a second, do you want me to explain, and why I think only the fools out a the public schools are gonna get trashed when the Vrakians show up?"

**********
Cassandra nodded, "I am surprised they didn't just leave it at the News U. But I was planning on taking a car back to school. Me and a few freinds were going out to AMW Funtime this weekend so I needed to get my car for the drive...."

She paused throwing back to the normal conversation. "Anyway, I can drop you off...where are you staying?"

"You could do that Frank, I think we would find it very informative." Frank seemed to have a short fuse for probing questions from outsiders, the producer cinsidered asking Frank if he had any Vaadian relatives, but decided against it.

"Besides, I'm paying you for your expertise!"

*****

James nodded "I would appreciate that greatly. I'm staying at the Best Western downtown, though I don't know where that is from here, I got rather turned about in that canal. I didn't see any street signs in there."

He thought he may as well ask "What is the AMW Funtime?"

(OOC: And even DB has become saner, if you discount the rampaging secret agents and well... rampaging, orcs (who are about to reappear).)

Six had large offices in Cyro, and was theoretically the headquarters, although in reality York, the branch was, for most of the year just a communications relay Station. Having a Chief Superintendent show up unexpected was cause for some interest, and she warranted quite a bit of attention. She was asking for some strange questions for a start. It certainly wasn't normal to do background work on Agents from other branches. Still, it was best not to question authority, and one thing was clear, there was going to be a 'Disempowerment'.

Frank got down off the window ledge and put the camera on a desk looking at a small blackboard. He began to illustrate his point.

He drew a square on the board and then a large oval above it. "This is Parliament Hill and this is Government Square." He then drew several lines going out of the corners and the bottom of the square. "And these are the streets of the city that come into the square."

He then drew an x on the bottom of the square. "This is the Klatchian News Union, sort of a fancy club for reporters. As you can see they have relatively easy access to Parliament Hill. Oh, and the international press is known for having decidely bad habits and lazy asses." He smiled a wolfish smile. Now on this side is the Klatchian Geographic Building. He drew a large square to the right of Government Square.

"And here we have Walrus Land Lite...or the Vrakian Quarter." He used the side of the chalk to cover an area on the other side of the Geographic Building. "And right there we have...the Vrakian Tanks." He drew a tank with a walrus sitting on top.

"Over here is the Shades, and here is the Guild Quarter where a good number of those prep schools are. Tanks roll in, preps roll out and those not fool enough to run into the Shades, and not prep enough to find sanctuary in the Guild Quarter are going to be chased around by a bunch of ivory tusked mac trucks and their mecanics."

Frank paused looking at the Camera again. "Well a quick understanding of why the Vrakians, unless they spread out, are going to get absolutely no one of importance in that crowd."

********
Somewhere else someone was watching the broadcast. "That child is too intelligent...send someone to ensure he has an accident. And send someone with a multi-signal jammer to make sure they don't get it on the air."

********

"Oh, fine...that isn't too out of my way." Cassandra said as she turned back through the door she had come out of a moment before. A few voices could be heard but then she appeared in her cloak and carrying a set of car keys in her hand.

The mime let them back out into the alley and Cassandra started to walk back across the alley to a small green door with peeling paint. "As for AWM Funtime it's an ammusement park. It wasn't destroyed in the AWM revolution because it's in the Canal Zone."

The producer nodded as Frank explained things, he had to tell James to show Frank how to use the digital graphics and the map feature on the camera's computer.

"Well, that makes perfect sense Frank, but surely the Vrakians would know that and are prepared for that?"

The satellite camera (as stated before) wasn't actually recording anything, but was sending the feed directly to an LNS news satellite to the studios in Lassic where it was then either broadcast live or edited in studio before being aired. Right now Frank's images were being used, but his commentary was being replaced by the LNS commentators, the editors were 'cleaning up' Frank's statements for the tele-prompters. The LNS always made darn sure that by the time someone malicious had seen the coverage they received the information was already out, nothing protected a reporter better than the full story being told.

*****

James looked mystified "Amusement park?" he repeated as if she'd said it in Greek "I've never been to amusement park, I don't think we have any in the Free Republic."

He followed Cassandra and asked another question "What was the AMW revolution?"

Frank sniffed, "The sea cows are too damn stupid to know what the hell their doing. Why send in troops when you've got the Parliamentary police right here? The only one who could keep this damn thing from flying off in horror was the Landgravine..."

The transmission became nothing more than fuzz right after that.

******
Planning was the key to success. And someone had quickly, but well planned this little manuvere. If some of the international press got too troublesome, all lines were to be jamed and the offending party delt with quickly.

The first part was simple, a large case and generator had been placed in a vehicle on the first level of the parking garage. The generator came on and the electronics in the case put out so much broadband static energy in the lower than visible spectrum that it all but blanked out most units. It wouldn't effect laser transmissions (which needs to be line of sight so Frank was out of luck) and really powerful units should be able to burn through partially.

All the other news channels went blank too. The world over producers were having fits as their scenes of Government Square turned into fuzz.

*****
Three men who looked like hairless Gorrilla's stood near a phonebooth. The phone rang. The shorter of the men turned and picked up the phone.
"Yeah"
Second or Third Floor of the Civil Building towards the Square. Someone with a Camera...Find them and Kill them

******
"You don't know what an Amusement Park is, poor boy? we'll have to take you out there sometime when your not so busy being a diligent reporter."

Cassandra opened the small green door and stepped inside. It appeared to be a cage elevator. She pushed a button and the unit began to decend.

"Really now, The Axe Weilding Maniacs Revolt was against the Duke by the people...of course the nation completely disintgrated and then the new State of Monte Orzka rose in its place. Then they apparently decided to all mass migrate to a new land recently."

She shrugged, "My father says that the Marshall's discoved a treasure worth billions of dollars when the JDF went in to restore order." Her eyes went wide and she looked up at James, "Oh, I shouldn't have told you that...I shouldn't know either..."

The small lift stopped. The space beyond was a dark space with a few lights. Cars of varying types sat between the large concrete pillars. Cassandra stepped out and started walking down the narrow space between the cars.

The producer looked at the fuzzy monitor "What the hell? Is the satellite down?"

His asisstant tapped a few keys on her laptop "No sir, all other feeds and channels are still up, it's only the Port Olympus feed that is down."

The producer got up and walked into the Network Administrators office "What's going on? The Port Olympus feed is down, the camera's battery didn't give any warning, and our other feeds are still up."

The Administrator sighed "It could be any number of things............." he looked over the network and made some changes "We can cut some other feeds and attempt to boost the signal strength, if it's interference that might do it? Was your guy standing next to a microwave?"

The producer shrugged "How the hell should I know? Just see if you can get it back up!"

He stalked out of the Administrators office and returned to the sat station and hit the monitor "come on................"

*****

In Tollan Fire Control a red light blinked on one of the Duty Leftenants consoles. He clicked it and it brought up LNS SAT-1 and showed a blinking red line between it and Port Olympus and began displaying the satellites stats high lightning the surge in in activity virtually killing the bandwidth.

The Leftenant leaned back "Ma'am, LNS SAT-1 is being blocked in Port Olympus."

Staff Seargent Assad walked over and lened over the console "That's odd? Put a camera from RASTER-12 on the area where the transmission and interference are coming from."

The Leftenant paused and brought up the RASTER Images, the Retaliatory Guard's RASTER Satellites could spot a tennis ball from space and now they were focusing on the square and the demonstration

"It's the demonstration in Government Sqaure, it started after the Nachxa was attacked and appears to be coinciding with a spike in Police activity in Port Olympus. " The Leftenant paused and punched up LNS Satellite-1 on his television scanner, the station was up but reporting they had lost the feed. "It's either being jammed or there is some sort of localized interference."

Seargent Assad nodded "What about other stations covering the demonstration?"

The Leftenant clicked through the channels local and international "Down, down, down, Simpsons rerun, down...............it looks like no news is coming from the demonstration..........something right in that area, Ma'am."

Seargent Assad nodded "Note it, keep a RASTER on Port Olympus and note and alert of any other suspicious activities, kep monitoring the situation. Have that Raster do a tightband search of the area and see if it can pinpoint the interference, and let me know."

the ability to block satellite feeds always interested the Retaliatory Guard Command , that sort of capability always caught their attention.

*****

James shrugged "I don't think there are any 'amusement parks' in Ilek-Vaad, plenty of sports parks, I always go and whore at for rugby matches at the sports parks, there's a few water parks...........but I don't think I've ever seen an amusement park."

He follows her and nods at the explanation of the AMW uprising or whatever and smiles as she outs another secret of her father's "Don't worry, I forgot it already, you know us reporters, minds like swiss cheese."

"It's alright Constable, it's alright." a Police Sergeant was patting a junior, who had quite obviously just thrown up into a bag, on the back when Detective Inspector Exley showed up at the crime scene. The Eighth floor of the upmarket hotel, 'The Djel'.

Exley was more than a little suspicious of this death, for a start, there was no real reason that a Commisaar from Six should have decided to attach herself to him just yet. Six of all damned departments! Four he could understand, they dealt with crime, but Six were the the overseas Intelligence service, it didn't make sense, "Perhaps, Commisaar D'Etiene, you could explain to me your prescence in this investigation, now that we have arrived at the crime scene."

She smiled indulgently. Exley was unusual for Dyellians in that he was a little overweight, probably due to the enormous amount of deep fried food he ate, he was in his mid fifties and sported a well trimmed moustache. He was regarded as a good Police officer, although D'Etiene couldn't quite see why, he just looked like a fat bufoon to her, "Of course, Inspector" she relished pointing out his lower rank, "I would explain, but as I've told you earlier, it is a matter of utmost importance to National security, and not something I am at liberty to divulge to the Police. Although I can tell you that if the victim is who we think it is, we will need this case tidied up quickly, we can't afford bad relations with Port Olympus."

He nodded to the Sergeant, ignoring the annoying Commisaar, "What do we have?"

"White Caucasian, Atlantean businessman, a Mr Philip Caster. Room service, got a call at 5 in the morning, when they came up they found him not quite dead. He died before an ambulance could reach him."

"I see." Exley nodded, the blasted Commisaar was listening in avidly, "What about the person who ordered room service, was it him."

"No, they say the voice was female."

He nodded again, "Any tapes of the conversation."

The Sergeant shook his head. Exley grimaced, he supposed it was too good to hope for, "Cause of death?"

"Massive blood loss. It's not a pretty sight Sir." the Sergeant warned.

Exley stared at him for a moment, "Well go on then, what exactly did our mystery killer, or killers do."

The Sergeant seemed unwilling to speak, but Exley's annoyed frown prompted him into action, "We don't know in what order, but the victim had their eyes removed, ear drums perforated, tongue removed and finally was castrated."

"Good grief!" Exley exclaimed, "Someone must have really disliked Mister..."

"Caster." the Sergeant prompted.

"Caster, yes..."

"See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil and finally do no evil." D'Etiene put in.

"Are you trying to be funny, Commisaar?" Exley replied, not bothering to disguise the disgust in his voice, "Some poor sod has just been filleted by..."

"I was merely pointing out." D'Etiene cut across the CID officer, "That this is a trademark killing, practive of a certain retired Five agent."

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me who this agent is, would they have a motive?" Exley still sounded annoyed.

She nodded, "A close friend of theirs was murdered in Port Olympus a few days ago, we've had our eye on her for a while, she's dangerously unbalanced, and yes, Inspector, I am going to give you a name, and I'm going to give you an address..."

Revenge was a dish best served cold, it made it taste all the sweeter.

The transmission became nothing more than fuzz right after that.

******
Planning was the key to success. And someone had quickly, but well planned this little manuvere. If some of the international press got too troublesome, all lines were to be jamed and the offending party delt with quickly.

The first part was simple, a large case and generator had been placed in a vehicle on the first level of the parking garage. The generator came on and the electronics in the case put out so much broadband static energy in the lower than visible spectrum that it all but blanked out most units. It wouldn't effect laser transmissions (which needs to be line of sight so Frank was out of luck) and really powerful units should be able to burn through partially.

All the other news channels went blank too. The world over producers were having fits as their scenes of Government Square turned into fuzz..

At the Center, Tiffany and her staff began to grow concerned when the network footage abruptly stopped coming in. "Whats going on Bill?" she asked one of her techs.
"Somebody is jamming on the ground it looks like. The RPV in LEO is picking up unusual low frequency noise, and that would be screwing up anybody close by trying to uplink to a sat."
"Can we reach Mr McCintyre?" General Waters asked from behind them.
"Not by sat phone sir. I am sending a call through the local cell phone service provider though. That might work." Tiffany replied.
"Well, if it doesn't, have the Residence send someone to call him back. I don't want to lose anyone over this."

At that moment, another tech chimed in. Pauline, who was monitoring Signit traffic picked up by the same RPV noticed a problem. "General, Tiffany, I think you had better hear this."

*****
"Yeah"
[i]Second or Third Floor of the Civil Building towards the Square. Someone with a Camera...Find them and Kill them[/i .

"Its from a landline sir. It sounded vaguely Alconin, but it could be anybody." Pauline remarked.

"Or it could be about Colin." General Waters replied. "Tell the Residence to get him the hell out, and keep trying to reach him." He ordered.

ooc
New Shiron is still getting camera / video footage from its satellites in orbit in real time, and is monitoring communications channels through another satellite. This is current tech stuff, so its even easier for New Shiron to do it.

Seargent Assad had gone back to her station at Tollan Fire Control and began monitoring the situation for herself and put in a call to friend, a friend that almost no one had access to.

"Assad, 51509" she stated into her headphone as she click the encrypt button on her terminal. "Air General Aldred? This is Mirai, have you been watching what's going on in the Klatch?"

General Aldred answered "Yes we have, the live news was rather good until it was cut."

"What do you think it is?" she asked.

"Someone causing trouble. The attack on The Nachxa, the protest and now we have been getting reports of a spike in homicides in Port Olympus, I heard a rumour that most of the dead may be Cheka. Someone is putting something in motion." he sounded disintetested.

"If they are blocking the news Sats, they may try and block our military Sats." she decided to mention.

Aldred chuckled "Yes, I am aware of that. I'm meeting with the Minister of Defence and the Velite General and the Supreme Republican Commander tomorrow. I'm on top of it. Really Mirai, don't you think I'm up to doing my job?"

Assad sounded frustrated "I just needed to hear that something is being done, Commander Ring has us all sitting on our hands here."

Aldred sounded sympathetic "You just miss Uncle Istvan, don't worry Assad, everything will work out just fine."

Meanwhile at the parking garage Colin had one eye on the demonstration and one eye on the internet feed of news reports when he noticed the coverage was abruptly cut off. He became even more concerned when his sat phone failed to work.

It was obvious now that his mission to report information wasn't going to work anymore, so time pull back for new orders. Mounting his bike, he started it up and took off down the ramp toward the street. Time to take a few back streets back to the Residence.

Colin likely would have passed the white van with the odd sound of having an engine running. Not the engine of the van, but a second engine, actually a small powerful generator was was quickly running out of fuel.

*********
In the building Frank had realized that he had lost all contact with his five thousand dollar paycheck. "Hell, head to the hotel now..." He said to the empty room. He turned and opened the door to hear the elevator ping, a moment later two hulks turned the corner and smacked open an office door. There was a bit of yelling but the two men left and then entered the next office.

Frank decided to go the otherway, towards the parking ramp and the stairs. Frank also decided to take the headset off. As Frank neared the end of the hall and the firedoor to the stairs, it unlocked with a heave. A third hulk of a man appeared in the doorway.

S*** was the only phrase that passed through Frank's head. Luckly he was next to the restroom. He just turned and walked into the womens room.

F*** was the phrase that popped into his head. First, either the guy on the end of the line had decided five thousand was a bit too much to pay and so had kept him on the line until he had gotten some much hired goons to show up, or someone had taken a serious dislike to LNS live reporting.

Either way, Frank and the small fortune of equipment in his hands were in serious trouble. And even a hulk wasn't dumb enough to think Frank was a girl or a real idiot of a peeping tom. They would follow him in here and then...

A new line of thought opened up as Frank noticed the smaller door next to him with the word Janitor on a black plate attached to it.

A the large man with a receeding hairline and decidely looking like a sentiant brick wall started to push open the women's room door. Why did that kid run in here? He thought. The kid was a minor known to Jimmy, a runner who worked this part of the city. Of course it seemed strange that a runner would be on the second floor here...not much money with these freeloading beuracrats.

The door opened suddenly with Frank pushing a cart out the door. "Hey watch it...load comming through...Hey man, the men's room is down the hall."
Frank said as he pushed Jimmy out of the way with the plastic janitor's cart.

"Hey, yeah...huh why are...you in the girls room..."

Frank paused and did his best annoyed civil servant look to Jimmy. "Because the Janitor's closet is off the womens you dolt. Now do you have any other silly questions or can I get to back to doing my job." Frank continuted to push the cart down the hall.

"Yeah...but ah...aint you Fr...er...Ben the runner?"

"It is Frank, and yeah I am a runner, but I've got a sideline as a Janitor. Gives me a nice steady paycheck and I only need to clean two restrooms a day to keep the locals here happy.

"Oh, yah..." Jimmy held out a twenty krondor bill. Frank made a motion towards it but it vanished back into the massive paw before he could get it.

"Someone is uphere with a camera..."

"Hmm," Frank nodded at the hand clutching the twenty, indicating that the twenty needed to reappear before he said anything more.

Jimmy produced the twenty and Frank grabbed it. "Was some kid up here...blond...blue eyed...looked like a University Student...left a few minutes ago mumbling about malfunctioning equipment." Frank pointed back to the stairs Jimmy had just emerged from.

"I was..."

"He might of had his ride on one of the levels above...."

Jimmy signalled to the other two and they ran up the stairs and into the parking deck. One turned to go see if anyone was near the exit ramp.

Meanwhile Frank was now outside of the building, going down to the Metro system. The trains had been backed up for awhile due to a clean up on the tracks but apparently were now moving. The camera gear was stowed in a black plastic garbage bag.


*********
Cassandra turned and looked at James. "Quite...more like a blackhole, nothing ever escapes..." She unlocked a small blue car. It was actually tiny, a four door box that looked like it was the love child of a Deyllian auto factory and a clown car. The small engine roared to life, or sort of, it wasn't apparently a normal engine, and Cassandra backed the car out of its parking spot.

Two things were immediatly noticable. The first was the flying Walrus on the hood and the other was the car had made an impressively small turn, even for its small size.

"Well...come on get in..."

Dyelli Beybi's Northern Border, held the Artois line, built prior to the Tzar in fear of Vrakian attacks it was a dense network of trenches and dugouts, with concealed tank traps, mines, turret mounted cannons like those found on Battleships, fixed and mobile SAM and of course, artillery pits. There was a veritable forest of radar and ECM domes. Each line overlooked the lower one as they rose in a gentle slope, meaning anyone overunning a forward line would come under fire from the lines behind.

Behind the third line, right up against the slow flowing Djel was 'Fort Massingbird', an equally impresive series of earthworks, that made up the Headquarters of the 5th Republican Army, responsible for the Vrakian border. It wasn't only Officers of the 5th Republican assembled in Massingbird's briefing room today though, the and 6th and 7th were also well represented, along with the 3rd Benjian.

A map of Klatch was pinned up for all to examine, arrows and crosses were drawn seemingly randomly on it, with small flags marking other Klatchian deployments. "...so in colcusion." it was Genorale Pickelheimer, a man who'd made quite a name for himself fighting the Benjians at Sheffield.

Sheffield had been a Benjian 'victory', but had resulted in negligeable losses to the Dyellians as opposed to the destruction of nearly every last helicopter in the Benjian Airforce. Ironically it had been Benjian built mobile AA that had ripped holes in it's own airforce, "In the event of war, the 3rd Benjian will support the 5th Republican here." he slashed down on the map with his baton.

There were nods from around the room, it made sense, the area was vital for the survival of the D.B.A.T. if Klatch became divided, "...while the 7th Republican will support the 6th in a push here", again the baton came down on the map, "Any questions?"

There were none. If war started, those two areas must be secured, if not 7 Dyellian Armies, nearly a third of the Arny would be cut off and more or less starved of supplies, "Remember Gentlemen, this is only if there is a war. Let us pray that there is not. In the event of war, even if we won, the country would be in ruins. So let us hope the Politicians and the Cheka do their bit and keep the peace."

James looked over the small car with a bit of apprehension. In Ilek-Vaad the smallest car available was the Jaguar-Daimler C Class, with the help of enviromentally friendly ethanol based fuels, cars had remained somewaht large.

"What sort of car is this?" James asked as he tentatively climbed in " It's rather small."

*****

The producer at the LNS and his staff and the Network Administrator all were working to try and get Frank's feed back.

"Of all the lousy luck, isn't there anything we can do?" He asked no one inparticular, exaspertaed by the whole third worldl that was the Klatch.

Cassandra shook her head. "It's a Llama. And yes it's small, it is built to be a cheap, easy to drive city car." After James had finally gotten in and found that the leg room wasn't quite that bad she put the car back into gear and drove it onto a small metal platform. Stopping as the headlights seemed about to impact the concrete wall beyond.

"Parking is such a problem around here. Most people can afford to have a parking space big enough for one of those Jaguars." She smiled at him, then her gaze returned to the concrete wall that was now slowly moving by.

"So tell me James, what is so important about a bunch of rabble rousers that you spend all day taking pictures of them."

********
Of course Frank was moving out of the jamming. But all of his gear was now sitting quietly in a black plastic bag moving towards the center of the city. Only the sound of some source of calming Music and an occassional muffled cough could be heard.

Jmaes suddenly wondered if Pat the Llama had taken a job endorsing cars? He shook his head to clear that thought and smiled.

"There are free car parks just about everywhere in the Free Republic, mainly to encourage car sales."

He then shrugged "The rabble rousers are news. Especially since the Republican Council began debating joining the Federation, anything goin on in the Klatch is news, and this unrest is big news.

I want to try and find out what they want, aside from Vrak out, and who is behind it all. Like any good journalist, I want the truth."

*****

When the feed came back on, the producer blinked "Frank? Frank? What the hell is going on?"

The concrete wall changed to corragated metal as the lift stopped. Cassandra hit a small button built into the dash which started the door to move and open.

"The truth? Or the Truth? You see modernism in effect defined truth as that which any individual sees is true. And that all visions of truth are equally valid. However this has the problem of people beleiving that they all are 'right' and that therefore anyone who doesn't agree to their 'truth' is wrong. A sort of modernistic Reganism as one of my profs put it."

The car bolted out of the now open door and onto the street. Cassandra began to drive like a demon, allowing the relative power of the engine and the turning ability of the four wheel steering to negotate the narrow streets of the old city.

"Of course Post-Modernism is just as big a mess...more a jumble of countervailing ideas set to overthrow the old order with someones more reasonable order that allows them to know the Truth, and everyone else being a complete fool."

The little blue car stopped at a light for a moment. "Really it is all crap personally, attempting to apply scientific concepts to non-scientific areas in an attempt to make them more 'valid' and 'modern' is hugely riddiculus."

*****
Well the headphones were in the bag, so LNS was going to have to either try something else or use the KCN feed which was now burning through the jamming but taking hours of life off their satilite equipment every minute.

James held on and chuckled "I'm looking for the truth. What I mean is that I want to bring to light every hidden or unknown aspect of whatever story I am covering. I'm a journalist, I don't analyze the truth or who it applies to, I just put all the information out into the open and let the public debate what sort of truth it is, and how it's relevant.

I have my own opinions of course, but I try not to let that intefere with whatever information I am presenting. I want the truth in the sense that I want all factual evidence for certain subject presented openly, that's all. Everyone has to judge for themselves as to how or what it is relevant to."

Meanwhile, at the Residence, the 3 Keys and 3 Electors of New Shiron hurriedly met to discuss how to deal with mounting number of crisis that were building up.

The meeting went all day and well into the night.

ooc
Luckily now New Shiron television has new stories to report... like a Blue on Blue incident in Rogue Jiggedy, a possible conflict at sea, IV ship movements etc...

This will divert New Shiron media away from any brutal crackdown on demonstrations in Port Olympus which would raise exceedingly awkward questions in New Shiron itself.

Cassandra looked at James, "This is the Klatch, mind where you stick your flashlight, something might just bite something off for waking in from a nice nap." The light changed and the car flew into the central square of the city. It was surprisingly empty but that allowed her to bank around the corners and turn to head downtown.

*****
Pawn moves between Bishops leg and lights bag of poop
Water is considered a universal solvent, it gets out all sorts of stains, dirt, the smell of alchol, overly self-indulgent brats who should be home studying not throwing smelly fish about the place.

And Port Olympus had a good deal of water. After all it sat astride where the two great river of the Klatch (well the Vrakian's rivers tended to be ice a lot),the Fasta and the Dyelli started on their competing race two the sea. Of course there were times when there was water where it shouldn't be. Like at the stroke of 2:38 pm a clank was heard from somewhere along the road up Parliament Hill. A moment later, water started to splash down the road and flood Government Square.

The Buildings surrounding Government square were fine, oddly most had high basements with very good waterproofing and industrial sized sump pumps, that is measured in metric tons. Actually they were mesured in barrels, but a barrel was defined as the amount of vodka a walrus would drink in a day. (Quite a bit)

The reaction the protesters had was similar to what you had when a pet peed on your shoe, while you were in them, if you had a pet elephant, if you had as a pet elephant one who had previously been holding an entire universe up while riding around on the back of a supersized turtle. The effect was hightend by the slighly yellowish tint to the water.

And like any teenager who's pet has made a mess. The formentioned protesting teenagers vanished as though by some collectively learned skill of disappearing when there was work to be done. Espcially work involving the dread words Responsiblity and Mess.

The Vrakians were left with the intresting spectacle of a burning walrus (gas fired no less) with a crown floating in a flooded square of slighly yellowish tint, with floating dead fish around him and an extinquised Landgravine floating face down nearby.

OOC: Somehow things just seemed to be lanquishing in this part of the thread for no apparent good reason.

James continued to hold and smiled "Well if I have to have something bitten of to expose the truth, I guess that comes with the job!"

James was being extra gritty and reporter like to try and impress Cassandra "Besides, I know that if I get thrown into a canal, you'll be around to pull me out. So that's not so bad."

*****

The LNS producer decided that he was probably going to have to wait, so he switched to just commentary with edited stills of the protest. He'd be damned if he was going to use KCN news feeds.

OOC:

New Shiron- when the words 'possible conflict' is in the same sentence as Ilek-Vaad, it's normally safe to drop the 'possible' :)

Cassandra was a young women who didn't want to be impressed. After all she had men under her thumb since the age of eight and saw no reason to change things now, "Next time someone throws you into something it will likely be the river...and a croc might get you...and one of those will eat you whole, just like a Deyllian noble." That was unlikely the water was too cold in the Lake for the crocs, only a a few stragglers moved this far north, and most lived in the sewer system not the river.

The car skidded around a corner and down a side street. "Really, I don't want to drive all the way around the block."

She turned up a one way street, the wrong way and pulled into the small drive area before the Best Western. "Well here we are..."

*****
Frank was walking behind the large woman in the yellow uniform down the Best Western hallway. "You know I could get into..." the old maid began again.
"Trouble? Listen the guy isn't here and I need to drop this...package off..."

"Listen your mother may have worked the Mead House with me but..."

"Shhh...do you really want to see what kind of perverted sex toy he had me go buy?"

She looked around no guests were in the hall at the moment. "What?"

"Frank leaned over and went "Baaaa!" softly.

"Foreign Freaks, they should leave their perverted ideas at home just hire a girl and not buy some...some..."

"He wanted a Ewe..."

"What's a Ewe?...."

"Baaaa, but not the stuffed plastic kind with stuck on wool..."

The woman put her key card into the slot in the door and unlocked it. "If I hear about...."

"Hey...I'm a runner not a theif, if the City Protection and Property Union heard an unlicenced runner was hitting hotel rooms..."

The woman waved him off as Frank pushed himself into James's hotel room.

The thousands of reinforcements had arrived and the Major looked at the crowd now with a smug self-assurance instead of a nagging worry. He calmly looked over as bayonets were fastened. Vrakians were never known to use non-lethal methods to disperse crowds.

At the palace itself, the troops braced themselves for the inevitable storm.

====

Encryption: MAX; VMHC and JDF protocols 093181897498; route: KDDC
Route…complete

Vrakian reinforcements are in place. Are ready to disperse crowd at your signal unless Presidential Palace comes under direct attack.


OOC: I hope the signal can get through. Can we assume there is a very secure cable from the Vrak (and other state) Miltary High Command to the KDDC?

OOC: The Vrakians are armed and no where to go as the crowd is already dispersing...And the jamming likely hasn't messed with any of the defense broadcasts of the Octogon or the Presidential Palace.

The Major’s smile turned downward as he saw the crowd beginning to disperse. Darn, he thought, I wanted to roll over those wretched idiots with my tank and show them the true meaning of respect. How dare they mock the King!

His knuckles gripped the hatchway and, with a quick motion, signaled to the massed troops. He still didn’t hear word back from the KDDC so he was ready to proceed to the second part of the plan, which was to establish a bivouac around the presidential palace.

Well, at least not all of them. Quite a few of the troops would once again board their buses and be whisked back to base where they would be drilled in riot control techniques.

The major's tank lurched forward along with a body of infantry towards the palace.

James smiled and nodded to Cassandra "Thanks you for pulling me out of the canal and for your hospitality and for driving me back to my hotel. If you can think of anyway that I can repay you or help you out, don't hesitate to let me know. I'd give you my card, but I think they're probably all ruined. It does look like I'll be staying at my hotel indefinently, so you can get a hold of me here.

Once again, I can't thank you enough."

After having said his goodbyes he checked at the front desk for any messages or mail and then headed up to his room.

And now, the presidential palace looked like an armed camp. It was always difficult for anyone to establish complete control over Port Olympus less the city itself be razed to the ground. That option was never seriously considered so therefore the city and certainly the Shades and its nefarious elements were allowed a bit of rope. The VIS had tried to infiltrate the guilds, especially the assassin’s guild, but after having a few agent’s heads being dropped off or mailed, the latter were left alone. Better to work with them in a defacto manner rather than bother them.

Of course, this went against the usual stubborn walrus thought process. Enough guns and bullets were believed to solve any problem and this show of force was as much to stroke the High Command’s ego as opposed to any actual effectiveness. It also meant that the troops camped outside made for an attractive terrorist target. On the other hand, no group knew exactly how far to push the Vrakians since they were apt to respond force with force and more force.

The VIS now was reviewing the various film footage caught from the security cameras located on the perimeter of the palace. Known agitators would be discretely captured, interrogated (which usually meant torture) and then either dumped in the canal, bought to work for the VIS, or sent back to spread the word among their fellows that the next time this stunt was attempted their houses would be burned to the ground and anyone they held dear would be executed.

The problem was that the Presidential Palace on the back top of the hill had a very poor view of the Government Square at the bottom. Nor were the Vrakian Troops in all that much danger, they were in the second most secure spot in the city, Parliament Hill.
****
Cassandra and her car sped off. Really saying to a girl, "call me," was a fairly good way of staying single in this town.

Frank waited quietly on the bed, looking up as the small clunk of the electronic lock operated and allowed James into his room.

"Hello, you must be James...you got my five grand, because I've got your camera." He pulled the unit up and out from the black plastic bag.

James waved and then shrugged and then went into the hotel and directly to his room, he was a bit startled by Frank.

"Yes, I'm James. I sort of have your money, but I need to go to an ATM to get it."

James looked over the camera and detaches the phone and puts the rest of the equipment under the desk.

"So let's go hit an ATM, and what do you know about a place called the Krooked Kroc? And are Yelta Terrace number 3129 or 15c Chapelpark street on the way? There's been a rash of 10-44's and not a peep about them on the news, because of the demonstration, just as the planners expected."

He paused again and changed his jachet "Oh and we need to stop by Mr. Harvey's Dry cleaning, my jacket smells of fish."

He then headed for the door.

Frank watched James shoot about the room like a demon. "Now then, I am not about to start giving out information for free. Your boss said something about getting me a contract, which is fine...but until I see one I am not about to start dibbling out information like a blond girl who's trying to be in love with the guy who just deflowered her."

Frank stood up and pulled out a small money clip which also had a card holder. "Now then I suggest we go to the Zeeland Trust, just cause they have the lowest rates for electronic transfers and a nearby branch. Get five thousand out of an ATM? Where do you think we are Thunderbay?"

Frank shook his head as he handed James a card with a list of banks and phone numbers. "Third one down is the nearby Z Trust branch number. Your boss can fax me a contract there..."

James paused and hit speed dial for the office and motioned for Frank to follow him as he rushed out the door.

"This is James, yeah I got everything back. Yes, Frank is delightful, he wants you to fax is contract." he gives the number of the bank "Do it quick, something big is going on here, the protest was a distraction."

He listens for a second and pauses "Frank, my producer needs an address you want you checks sent to."

He was heading back down to the lobby the entire time he was talking.

Frank paused for a second as they watched the elevator doors open. "Send my checks to Box 1298 Port Olympus North East Number Five. I don't get mail delivery at home."

Frank seemed a bit miffed with James and his speed. After all the 10-44's weren't going anyplace soon.

The doors opened and they both stepped into the lobby. Frank looked up at a large man in a trench coat sitting in the lobby reading a home improvement magazine, well actually the improvement magazine had slipped down enough to show it was a copy of XXX Hardcore the thin man was reading.

Frank tried to put James between himself and the man on the sofa, but it was too late.

The figure stood and Frank realized it was time to run. "I'll meet you at the bank...I've got to shake this guy..." Frank ran out the doors and into the street. The man dropped his girly mag and screamed,
"Listen Punk, this is my territory you get your as* back uptown..." And took off out the door.
"Hey Perry, I'm going to be in the Press..." Frank could be heard in the distance.
"Yea, and I'm going to marry Queen Gabrielle!" Was the gruff reply.

The hotel clerk looked up and shrugged, "Runners...more territorial then Schnauzers..." She added politely.

James watched in disbelief as Frank sprinted out of the hotel.

"What in the hell is wrong with this city?"

He looked at the card and went over to the recptionist "Well, I'm sure they will work that out. Is there anyway I can hire car? I need one as soon as possible, I'm already running late and I need transportation."

"I am afraid that most rental agencies will not rent you a car today since there is a mandatory crefew in effect. I can call around and see if there are any cars available. But where do you need to go? Public transportation is actually one of the few things that works well in this city. As long as you pay for your ticket." She shuddered thinking of the control officers.

"Well, I have several different places to go, but to the Zeeland Bank is the first stop. "he paused and showed her the card "Until I get there, I don't have any cash. There has to be someone that has a car that is willing to rent it, or rent their services?"

OOC: Is the Vreland Bank a Vaadian Bank or did he want the Zeeland Bank?

"Well the Zeeland Trust Company is just two blocks down and they should still be open." She pointed to the name on the card. "As for Vreland Bank I don't recognize it...I'll have to look it up for the nearest branch..."

She paused and looked up at him. "You of course realize that parking in this city is horrific and costly don't you? Our parking per night is fifty percent more than our room tariff. I mean it's 160 Krondors per night additional, 400 Krondors per night if you do not have a room."

Somehow she really didn't think a reporter staying at a Best Western could afford to be paying for a operating a car in the city. Nor did she trust that he could actually park in the crowded conditions of Port Olympus.

There was a reason that the Llama was popular here, you could damn well park the thing. It was the ultimate vehicle to own in Port Olympus. The only reason some auto manufacutres from the south had been able to exporttheir awful vehicles was their ability to park in such crowded conditions. After all if there were two of you, you could pick one up and plant it between two other cars.

OOC: Zeeland, sorry, It's been a long day.

IC:

James paused and quickly calculated those prices in his head "That's cheaper than the tolls to get into and to park in the Old City In Lassic. " he said offhandedly. "I could afford it, if I could get to a bank. Just two blocks? I'll walk that , which way?"

OOC: Zeeland, sorry, It's been a long day.

IC:

James paused and quickly calculated those prices in his head "That's cheaper than the tolls to get into and to park in the Old City In Lassic. " he said offhandedly. "I could afford it, if I could get to a bank. Just two blocks? I'll walk that , which way?"

OOC: Ah...

IC:"Oh, well then your here..." She pulled off a one sheet paper map off of a paper pad and drew a circle around a square. She then drew a line over one block and up another. It is right next to the Jittery Squirrel Coffee Shop."

She pointed the way and sent James out on his way. The streets were fairly empty right now so it was an easy walk to the Bank. Frank was leaning on one of the polished granite columns that formed the front of the bank. "What took you so long man? Hitting on the clerk?"

James had a pleasant stroll and smiled at Frank "No, no,just enjoying myself is all. So what do you say we go in and get your money and your contract?"

James pauses and looks around "Or is someone going to start chasing you again?"

He then headed into the bank and got in line, unless there wasn't one and goes right up to the counter. "I'm expecting a fax for James Villarreal and I also need to withdraw eight thousand Kronor." he said as he slid his debit card to the teller.

Outside the bank, a Vodnik pulled up. It has a 50 cal machine gun mounted on top which was manned by a surly Vrakian. The driver stayed put while two more Vrakian soldiers got out with their machine guns. The pair strode into the bank and after a quick word with the bank guard, established themselves at the main doors. Two more bank guards came down and added a presence to the soldiers. It would be quite hard for anyone to leave without being checked and someone trying to leave the back way would quite possibly be noticed.

There was some questions as to why the Vrakians felt it needed to identify individuals entering or exiting the Zeeland trust.

"Welcome to Zeeland Trust Mister...Villarreal. I hope you understand that since you don't have an account with..."

Frank coughed behind James and stepped forward. "Ah...yes?" the teller asked with some slight concern.

"I have an account..." He presented a blank white card with a blue stripe across one end. It seemed oddly transparent, she took the card and inserted it into the terminal before her.

"Ah yes...could you please put your finger on the pad there...yes...quite...this is a secure account could I have you enter the passcode."

Frank typed in a code on the small alpha numeric screen that appeared. The teller nodded again. "Quite right....how may I help you?"

"Mister Villarreal will be transfering four thousand of that transaction to my account...the rest will be delivered in cash."

The teller looked up at James, "Ah yes then the transfer charges will be waived of course. The fax will be available at the buisness center over there. I will bring the cash to you gentlemen."

She pointed Frank and James towards a corner of the elegant lobby. As they approached a clerk appeared from nowhere. "I beleive this is the fax? Yes? Well then I was about to go get some coffee next door...do either of you gentlemen want something while you read over the fax?"

"Italian Soda, Vanilla, small..." Frank said in a polite firm voice as he sat down in one of the plush lobby chairs to read the legal document.

In Karmanyaka the anti-Klatchian demonstrations were still going on. The recent squabble on high military level had infected the political situation in the whole country. The thing was that some Karmanyakans didn't like the democratisation reforms, least of all the old elite, the aristocracy. Most Knights were military men and didn't like the prospect of losing their inherited privileges. The demonstrations had of course been instigated by important people in high places, but those who participated in the protests were ordinary Karmanyakans, workers, young people and pensioners who were unhappy with the new openness. In all the larger cities, Katla, Orva, Namron, Nordvek and Riderberg, demonstrations were getting larger and more difficult to control. The economy wasn't brilliant and some blamed it on the FKC.

Battle Day Square in front of the Tengil Palace in Katla was packed with people and the authorities here were unable to just flood the square like they had done in Port Olympus. The news from the Klatchian capital had further fuelled the anger of the crowds. Police in riot control gear had taken posts around the government buildings and the Tengil Guard had put extra personnel around the Palace and the Council Hall.

--

The Lord Tengil was worried, but couldn't let it show. Right now he sat behind the desk of his office, being interviewed by a reporter from the STV, state television.

"We are currently monitoring the situation outside the Gonad peninsula closely. The situation is tense, but we have no reason to fear an outbreak of war, as things look now. Naturally we have nevertheless put our defence forces on high alert."

"What does my Lord Tengil have to say about the protests in Port Olympus?" asked the reporter.

"The recent events in Port Olympus must of course to be taken seriously, but I am confident that things will soon resolve."

"Finally I would like to ask about the protests that can be witnessed across our country, in fact outside these windows as we speak. They clearly have a connection to the protests in Port Olympus. What are the impacts of these protests on the future role of Karmanyaka within the FKC or the ongoing political reforms?"

"The majority of the people welcomes these reforms and I and the Council will relentlessly continue to democratise Karmanyaka. Of course I understand the concerns of these protestors, it's a completely new situation, but democracy will benefit all Karmanyakans. It's about time we throw off the repressive yoke of feudal rule. Our membership in the Federated Klatchian Coast is an important help in this struggle to free the country from a partly self-imposed tyranny. Thank you…"

"Thank you, my Lord Tengil."

It was quite ironic that the protestors in fact used their newly-won political freedom to protest against the very democratic reforms that enabled them to demonstrate in public, but that didn't seem to bother anyone.

--

In an oak-panelled office in downtown Katla sat Minister of Justice sir Nelson Fare on the phone.

"Yes, I believe we will have to stamp down on these protests soon… No, unless they get violent we can't do anything, so a bit of provocation might be in place now. I'll see to it... Goodbye."

He smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"Miss Johansen, could you get me the Supreme Prodirector on the phone, please" he called to his secretary.

James just nodded and went along with Frank "That will be fine."

He followed Frank over to where the clerk "Nothing for me thanks." He had a seat while Frank read the contract.

The contract was a standard LNS stringer contract a twenty-eight thousand drachma a year salary (minimum wage in the Free Republic, about forty-four thousand kronors) full medical, partial dental and vision coverage and a two hundred and fifty drachma a week expense compensation.

It was already signed by LNS Sat-1's Director of Personnel. There were of course clauses that the signer would only share newsworthy information with the LNS exclusively.

Pretty standard, and fairly generous.

The clerk turned and proceeded to try and exit the building, being stopped by the Vrakian guards.

Frank looked up, "Er what is the dependent's coverage on the health and dental plan?" He asked. It was a fairly obvious question for a youth that was apparently taking care of his younger brother.

"Immediate family only, you can pay an additional cahrge to cover extended family members. It's like fifteen drachma deduction from your pay a month for each family member outside of your immediate family.

There should be am insurance form there, and it has places to add dependants and family, everyone you add there will get an insurance card."

James looked over to the door "Is that a tank outside?"

Frank bit his lip rather than say What is that in real money? "So I assume my brother would be immediate family then?"

Frank had to get out of his seat. "No that is the Vrakian answer to the Hummer...whatever they are doing outside the Trust."

He sat down and began to fill out some of the documents with a pen. "I wonder what the Walrus king is up to now?"

The clerk turned and proceeded to try and exit the building, being stopped by the Vrakian guards.

Frank looked up, "Er what is the dependent's coverage on the health and dental plan?" He asked. It was a fairly obvious question for a youth that was apparently taking care of his younger brother.

A bank guard exchanged a couple words with a soldier who then looked at the clerk again. A quick half-nod indicated that the clerk was free to go. The other soldier scanned the customers, his eyes settling on each individual for a moment. It seemed as though they would wait for people to leave first and then stop them rather than walk around the bank and make people more uncomfortable.

James watched the Vrakians and the security guard as they let the clerk pass. He then distractedly looked back to Frank "Well, If he saw the live feed of his effigy burning, then whatever he's doing I bet he's not happy about it.

I wonder if we'll be able to get out of here and take a look at those crime scenes? These Vrakians don't look terribly inclined to allow reporters to go roaming around the city."

Frank looked up, "First your not getting into the crime scenes. Neither one of us has a contact in the City Watch that would allow us to gain access to them. Or were you hoping that the neighboors would be chatty enough to spill some tidbits our way?"

Frank turned and shrugged again, "Well someone was unhappy about my work earlier...they sent some goons to make quick work of me. Alright everything is signed now we just need the clerk back here to noterize it. As for the Vrakians, well I have a few tricks up my sleeve so when we go follow my lead."

He paused again, "You know, LNS was pretty fast in hiring me...why didn't they just hire you a cameraman? It would have been a lot safer..."

James smiles "I am the cameraman. I was Pat The Llama's cameraman and I was promoted when he made his 'Utical' report and was forced to flee the country. So I was promoted to 'Port Olympus Correspondent'. A battle field promotion I guess, just like yours.

There are always chatty neighbors, and chatty patrolmen who are miffed at being forced to stand around and tell people to move along while the detectives do the important work, leaking info makes them feel important again. But we have to get there to find out who feels like talking, and who doesen't.

They'll talk easier without the camera, which is why I left it, I'll just get the voice."

"I wouldn't mention that too loudly, those boys at the door might have Utical stock." He leaned over as though pointing to something on the document while saying it. "If you were, or was, his cameraman then perhaps you can aswer a question for me...who the hell was his source for that story?"

Frank, being a runner for various journalists, knew that everyone at the Klatchian Press Union were attempting to find out where the Llama had gotten that story. As much to figure out who had it in so bad for Utical as well as demonstrate the Llama was a foolish twit who believed every second rate lie dropped at his feet. (The glee of a jelous schoolboy who finds out the boyfreind of the object of his dreams is cheating on her with the highschool sank and is just waiting to get a few pictures to humiliate the bugger.)

The clerk reappeared with a coffee in one hand and an italian soda in another.

Frank handed the papers off to him to be signed while the female teller approached with a printout, several stacks of bills and James debit card.

"Here is your card sir, please sign here...and here is the cash sir...please sign here." Frank signed on the sheet of paper and took the stacks of cash. Handing three thousand back over to James and pocketing the fourth.

James pocketed the money and signed and replaced his debit card in his wallet. He shrugged to Frank "Damned if I know, Pat always investigated his stories on his own and just called us when he wanted us to video him giving his report. I do know that he talked with several tax officials and and put in for re-imbursment for nearly five thousand drachma for payment of 'confidental sources'.

If I know Pat, he audio taped whoever itwas, he always has his audio pen drive on him and on. Pat is notoriously good at finding disgruntled axe grinders who will say anything bad about an intended target just to get back at them, he has a knack for finding angry people. He also has a knack for making people angry."

He looked around "Well, let's get that faxed back and get on our way."

"Ah, well then the clerk is buisy re-faxing stuff let's talk about the plan of attack shall we? Now you wanted to go nose about some 10-44's. One, Yelta Terrace way out on the outer rim of the city, middle class high-rise development. The other was 15c Chapel Park Street, Over on the other side of Cenotaph Hill from here. Based on the number, it's a loft over some of the nice end stores near the Chapel Gap." He paused sipping his italian soda.

"And then you wanted what the Krooked Kroc was? A bar, the Watch Bar actually. More of a D.B. style tavern that most around here but usually crawling with officers of the Watch. Now then the Watch assists in murder investigations, usually determining if a death is accident or suspicious. After that they leave it to the City Division of the Marshall's Office."

"Of course the City Watch does keep itself up do date on homicides by providing the City Division grunts, assistant detective sargents for the job. Now then if you think you can get the Watchmen to er give you a scoop while their on duty at the site, I disagree. The Watch is fairly insular and tight lipped on duty, which makes sense in a city where knifing people in the back and giving people enough rope to hang themselves with are two great Olympian pastimes." This last thought made Frank regard James with an odd look. It appeared someone had handed a rope to the Llama and allowed the twit to pay for poor information.

"I am just wondering how you decided to go to the Kroc if you didn't know what it was to begin with?"

Because I don't want my first real job to be watch you run off a damn cliff like some lemming and discover I'm tied to your suicidal as* went through his head.

James smiled "My 'contacts' told me about the Krooked Kroc. That I may be able to get information on the 10-44's there. The actual sites I would like to see, just so I have a point of reference so that when we go to smooze the watch I can pretend to be already knowledgeable about the situation.

That and the alcohol may get them to give us some details or leads that we can follow to find out who set up the protest to cover up these murders. Though I think I've got a hunch, from what I saw of your coverage and my informants tips."

James appeared to have fallen into a very well informed canal.

"Mind you, I only caught the locations of two 10-44's there were more than fifty last I heard so there may be some near by."

Frank leaned himself forward, "James, realize that you've gotten seperated from your gear once today, and I've gotten run out by a goon squad."

He paused to let that sink in, "Perhaps you would be so kind as to inform me, the local, who this contact is that you found? As far as I know you've just been told about a 10-44 from the brother-in-law of the cheif security officer at Utical and when we show up at Yalta Terrace we're going to be the 10-44's."

"Well, my source doesen't exactly know that I have this information, I must admit that I overheard it and that he is as ignorant about my having it as I am about what excatly it means." James lied partially to not have to reveal who he'd spoken with, he was guessing it might be important information to keep close to his vest.

"So I don't think it's a trap seeing as how no one even expects me to know all of this in the first place."

Frank put his head in his hands. "Unless they knew that you were listening in and then decided to send you off to die man. Making you think that they didn't know that they knew you knew." Realizing how complicated this sounded he shook his head.

"Listen, if this source finds out you know, and doesn't like the fact you know, they are going to assume I know anyway. Which in the end is putting my life at risk man." He slummed back in his chair, "You know your acting like a guy who just got the phone number of Cassandra ap Avermore, man."

What James didn't know was that Cassandra ap Avermore was a minor celebrity in and of herself. Rich, Beutiful, daughter of two of the cities most famous entertainers. Guys fantized about her constantly, and Frank's Triss occassionaly made ends meet by photoshoping Cassandra's head into pornographic photos and then selling them.

"No, no I didn't. I didn't have anything to write with when she dropped me off and all my cards were ruined. Don't worry Frank, everything will work out just fine. I can feel it, call it a reporters hunch!"

He slapped Frank cheerfully on the shoulder as he said that.

Frank chuckled at the joke at stood up as the clerk returned after having faxed the papers back to LNS. He paused mid stride, "[/i]She[i] dropped you off...Cassandra ap Avermore dropped you off man. And you didn't get her number..."He blinked a few times.

"Tell me what do you think of butler's as mimes?" He asked as he placed the papers down on the table and checked through them to make sure they were all there.

In reality anyone who was seemingly lost as James but would actually answer that question ment that he had run into one. And Frank doubted mimes were as quite as dedicated here as they were in the rest of the world.

James got up and followed Frank "Oh, Barnes was a mime, I thought he was just weird. You think with all that money that Cassandra could buy a nicer car than that little Llama."

He headed to the door now that the business was all taken care of "Alright let's go get a story!"

James got up and followed Frank "Oh, Barnes was a mime, I thought he was just weird. You think with all that money that Cassandra could buy a nicer car than that little Llama."

He headed to the door now that the business was all taken care of "Alright let's go get a story!"

Frank coughed, as he stood there. "Vrakians twelve o'clock..." He mumbled, thrusting a shoulder towards the armed vehicle outside the window.
Idiot Frank thought as he waited for James to realize that perhaps going out the doors wasn't such a smart move. God Babes in Wonderland

The one Vrakian soldier noticed James heading for the door and motioned with his free hand, indicating to come closer. He spoke perfect Vrakian but his English was lacking.

"Hey! You...yeah....come here."

The other soldier turned and calmly looked at James while the two bank guards kept scanning the main customer lobby. Truthfully, they wanted the Vrakians gone but were putting on a show to make it appear that they cared.

James paused and looked a bit shocked, the Velite Guard would never be so rude and abrasive. He stopped and turned to the Vrakian Soldier.

"Yes sir? Is there a problem?"

James wasn't nervous, Vaadians actually liked their police at home, considering they were all technically a part of it and usually knew the officers in a set georgraphic area. He was a bit taken a back by the rather rude 'Hey you' but he complied readily.

Frank of course thought that the minions of the Great Walrus tended to not get along well with others. So he stood there quietly, acting as though filling out some paperwork at a nearby counter, but listening intently to the conversation.

James paused and looked a bit shocked, the Velite Guard would never be so rude and abrasive. He stopped and turned to the Vrakian Soldier.

"Yes sir? Is there a problem?"

James wasn't nervous, Vaadians actually liked their police at home, considering they were all technically a part of it and usually knew the officers in a set georgraphic area. He was a bit taken a back by the rather rude 'Hey you' but he complied readily.

"Identification please," asked the soldier. His comrade also levelled a gaze at James.

James nodded "Of course sir." He then presented him with his passport. "I was trying to stay indoors today officer, what with the state of emergency, but I had to come to the bank to get some cash, my hotel is the Best Western just two blocks down, sir."

In Ilek-Vaad citizens often offered up petinent information to the Velite Guard. Seeing as how every Vaadian over 18 had been trained as a Velite Guard they knew what questions would be asked. He did leave out that he wasn't planning on going back to the hotel................

James nodded "Of course sir." He then presented him with his passport. "I was trying to stay indoors today officer, what with the state of emergency, but I had to come to the bank to get some cash, my hotel is the Best Western just two blocks down, sir."

In Ilek-Vaad citizens often offered up petinent information to the Velite Guard. Seeing as how every Vaadian over 18 had been trained as a Velite Guard they knew what questions would be asked. He did leave out that he wasn't planning on going back to the hotel................

"Ugh," grunted the soldier in return. He looked at the passport and made an incredulous face, as if not understandig anything. He passed it to his colleague who narrowed his eyes in concentration but after a few moments, shook his head.

"Wait please," motioned the first soldier to James. He then took the passport out the the Vodnik. It appeared that someone was on the radio. The second guard smiled at James with a dopey grin. The bank guard sighed while another one brought over a coffee.

"Would you like a coffee, sir?" inquired the second bank guard.


OOC: Well, according to Sunset's calc I have about 25% literacy. :)

James looked a bit perplexed and shrugged to the bank guard "Yes, I suppose I may as well have one now, it appears this may take a while."

These Vrakian fellows seemed to be the antithesis of Ilek-Vaad's well educated citizen Velite Guard.

OOC: 25% literacy? That's not helpful!

Frank actually didn't have an I.D. Or should we say a legal I.D., proof of birth was a bit difficult for him to obtain. Actually, it would likely have been deadly for him to attempt and acquire it.

So being here became a major problem. Frank knew that if one of the I.D.'s he had palmed off to the City Watch in the past were to be linked to the Zeeland Trust, well questions would arise. Really, life was starting to look up, and now he was stuck with a major problem.

Well he did have one possible means to escape fairly undetected. But not unnoticed. He turned to look up at the large clock hanging from the cealing in the center of the lobby and loudly swore. He stuck the papers into one pocket and strode strait for the Vrakian and guards. He opened a small inside pocket on his light jacket and pulled out the contents.

As he strode up and held up a red armband and picture I.D. stating, "Hey can I get through here...I'm almost up on my tea break and I need to get back to work..."

The armband stated CONTROL in black letters with a walrus over the top. The clipon I.D. said he was Joshua Roundtree, twenty, and a junior Control Officer. The I.D. was an expensive fake. The armband was the actual item, Frank had found it one night in a gutter near a bar. Hell the inside of the band even said 'Roundtree'.

Control was either a group of glorified ticket checkers or a wacked out group of Transit Cops, depending on your point of view. They didn't have any uniform other than the arm band. Supposedly this was to help capture skippers(those who jumped the turnstiles) by allowing the Control Officers to get on a train undetected and then capture the skippers while in motion. Most thought it was because Control Officers were regarded as the weird of the weird and that they didn't want to be detected outside of their underground warren of tunnels and offices.

"Hey, man...nice talking to ya...He quickly said to James, but I need to catch the next train uptown or I'm going to be late back from this coffee break."

He gave the Vrakian an wry smile, as though they could both think of better ways to spend their time, "tourists..." he added just before sipping his italian soda.