NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: This is invite only. If you feel you can contribute to the thread or have a burning desire to get involved, please TG me or Sanctaphrax for acceptance.)


Lightening crackled across the sky, heralding fat raindrops as they began their heavy descent. A stone-faced young man checked his watch for the third time. 4:37 am. Almost time.

Shift change for the Adelia police is 5am. The incoming shift will all be at morning roll call for their daily breifing. The outgoing shift will be headed for the station after the stormy night. The channels have been quiet, so they should be ready to go home. This will buy you some extra time.

The four recalled their briefing, rousing them for action at a moment's notice. They had been in Adelia for days, simply waiting for the right conditions. At quarter to 5, it was time to move. The four lifted a case between them and quietly slipped into the shadows surrounding the city's main electrical transformer.

Across town, a night watchman patrolled the lonely catwalks of a water treatment facility. Here, water in the main line was purified before traversing the pipes of the city and its suburbs. A 5am, an explosion would rock the city which would knock out power in the area. The plan was brilliant. Other stations would try to pick up the slack, but would fail in a chain of dominoes until the entire grid was plunged into darkness and confusion. The emergency dump would release at the treatment facility, releasing the endothermic virus into the city's main water supply. Even the usual precautions of boiling couldn't save the damned citizens of Nightfox.

The watchman glanced down to the vats below in various stages of purification. He checked his watch and smiled. 4:59...

5am, and the lights went out, not with a fizzle and a crack, like usual, but instead with a mighty explosion. He smiled, satisfied with the work. Screams started coming from other areas of the plant, people suddenly finding themselves in pitch darkness. Nobody noticed as the virus was injected into the water, and it gurgled and rushed off to do its deadly work.

~a few hours later~

Alex sighed as he washed the dirt and grit off his hands. Anytime now, he'd find a better job, but for now being a builder payed, if not much.

He dried off his hands, and suddenly felt the irresistable urge to scratch them. He did so, and felt a piece of skin come off in his hands. He looked at it in horror, before throwing it in the bin, slightly disturbed. Turning over his hands he looked at them, the skin had started falling apart on them. He was utterly repulsed by the sight, admittedly it was one of the flaws of being a builder, but surely not to this extent?

He gagged and raced to the kitchens and poured himself a glass of water. He drank noisily, then sat down. The infected water raced down his internal organs, peeling and dissolving them. He felt himself shrivel up and the last thing he ever saw was the ceiling of the kitchen as he fell to the floor. His wife would come home later to find him that way, his skin peeling and coming apart, and him looking mutated and destroyed, nothing but a shell.

The plan seemed to go off without a hitch, and the timing couldn't have been better. The police seemed to take an eternity to respond, most likely because of accidents and other emergency calls preventing any sort of organized response. The four men clambered out of the compound with only moments to spare. They had been prepared to die if necessary, but no one had really been trying for that end.

The darkness folded them in almost as part of itself, and by dawn, they left almost no trace behind. None but a black length of cloth which had served as an armband. It lay conspicuous in the wake of the blast, left as a deliberate but subtle sign until they were ready to publically claim responsibility.

The watchman left his shift as if nothing could have been more natural, shining his flashlight in the dark until the first light of dawn cut through the ebony night. On to the next phase. A measured and casual gait carried him up a darkened sidewalk. He followed it all the way to the edge of town, where the city's unusual architecture gave way to urban neighborhoods and towards a darkned house which was only slightly more grandoise than its fenced-off neighbors. Hidden in the protective tangle of old trees lay his quarry.

In the reddish light of the setting sun, a new horror was revealed. Feverish news reports and wild speculation were fast in coming to discuss the morning's events. What had seemed to be an attempted terror attack played out to be only a minor annoyance as many residents in the area were left without power for much of the day. Repairs to the main transformer were well underway, but back up systems had been implemented to provide the citizens of Adelia with power. But one by one, the wildfire reports focused on a chilling spectacle, leaving no doubt as to the engineers of today's events.

The lifeless body of Adelia's mayor hung from the two massive pillars flanking the enterance to city hall, suspended by a rope cinched around each wrist. His neck bore two parallel gouges which ripped diagonally across the length of it, as if the wound had been made by the fangs of a wolf. His body was draped with a banner, which in the native tongue of Gaeltach read "Let no others seek to own Gaelic lands."

The Comhoantas nGael had left their calling card in more brutal and clear a manner than memory could recall.

It was a well-known fact that the mayor had recently purchased a small estate in the Gaeltach highlands, which he had planned to visit in the winter. This had become a point of much contention among many of Gaeltach's children. Long ago in their troubled past, Nightfox and Gaeltach had squabbled over border definitions, and neither side was happy with the outcome. This only added fuel to a fire which would rage for centuries. Although there had been a public outcry against foreigners owning their land, Gaeltach's Sovereigness had adamantly refused a proposed ban on the subject. She firmly believed that to bring an end to the violence, the two nations must first learn to coexist. However by allowing this symbol of Nightfox authority to reside in the sacred land of their ancestors, a growing rage fed off a collective indignation and sense of defilement.

"....Atrocious attacks by the cowardly enemy..." he rolled his eyes as the message from the vice mayor, now mayor, played on the news. "....will hunt down those responsible.....". He grunted and switched off the TV, nothing new on, there never was.

Of course, the mayor himself couldn't be found. The video had been taped and sent in to the local news station, after which all the other stations had taken it for themselves. His message of promised vengeance was almost standard, it could be taken as a template for such situation.

Shortly after recording the message, he'd fled, suddenly being a mayor didn't seem so appealing to him. He had no wish to be a decoration on the walls of the City Hall. He had fled with an advisor or two, and where he hid now was not known.

Adelia was without a leader, and in addition to that people were dying, though nobody was sure what of. It seemed there was something in the water. A state of emergency had been declared, but by general consensus rather than by government choice, as there was nobody left to make that choice now. Water had started being imported from neighbouring counties and cities, and people were panicking. On the one hand, they couldn't drink the water, on the other hand, they couldn't not drink. It was almost 30C outside during the days, with no chance of it raining.

The people of the city milled about, having no purpose left, and above all, leaderless, they had no idea what they were supposed to do next.....

The Sovereigness had called her staff to the ready room and the group sat in stunned silence as the news reports flooded in. Síobhan folded her hands quietly, mulling over her options. While Nightfox had not directly addressed her yet, to preserve already unstable relations, she would have to make a statement.

"You can't condemn them. You'll lose the support and loyalty of the people."

"If I do nothing, more violence will follow, Michael."

Michael Connor, minister of domestic affairs, sighed in frustration. To him, it seemed a lose-lose situation. Violence or a rebellion. He had strongly advocated against the mayor from Nightfox aquiring land, but her logic had been convincing.

"However, you make a valid point. This must be handled delicately. Violence and hatred will not make this problem go away," she continued.

"Nor will condemning your own people solve it."

"What would you have me do? Advocate this? Sign my approval?"

"I wouldn't presume to dictate the leadership methods of this nation to the Sovereigness."

"Issue your statement, Lady. Address your understanding for the CnG movement, but condemn the violence." Syphis Vixont, the minister of defense, had been silent until this point, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. "But leave it at an internal statement. There has been no international backlash yet, and as the CnG are not tied to the government you are not bound to apologize. At least this way, you will show Nightfox that you are committed to ending this time of troubles."

She regarded him cryptically, weighing his words. It seemed logical enough. Disbanding the meeting, she postponed a public address to refine exactly how this should be accomplished.

----

The watchman clicked his cellphone shut, dressed now in a set of inconspicuous khaki's and a polo shirt. The four men before him waited patiently for their instructions.

"We have the go-ahead for the next stage of the game." The man with the phone had a moderate accent, suggesting he hailed from the north of Gaeltach, and a stony demeanor.

Operatives back home had provided a means to further alienate the city of Adelia. As one, the group moved off north the city, towards the first of several shipping stations strewn about the city's perimeter. Time to deal with the imported water.

As the night wore on, more and more of the Adelians found themselves falling sick. And despite their best preliminary efforts, no one could seem to find an alleviation. The watchman gave the barest hint of a cruel smile. For all their talk, and all the actions of their ancestors, this generation was nothing more than a pathetic mass of flesh. Not an ounce of aggression in the lot of them, it seemed, which suited him just fine. He saw weakness in the citizens, and had been bred to prey upon that.

After hours of traveling, they finally arrived at one of the main shipping centers. The complex was a maze of pavement catering to trucks and all manner of motorized vehicles frantically importing water and medications. While the four younger men peeled off for their respective tasks, the apparant leader made his way to the main offices for a little consultation. In his pocket, he carried Nighfox currency, each note carefully dusted with a power form of the virus. Oils in the skin would provide enough moisture for them to writhe to life and absorb into the bearer's skin. And better still, if he could not pay them to stop the trucks, he could still see to it that the currency would spread far out of the city, contaminating countless others in a fairly short amount of time. All traces of mirth left his gaze as he let himself into the office of the travel coordinator and produced a city manager's ID. He would force these cowards to react if necessary. Or they would die meekly. Either way, the Gaels would win.

----

Syphis sat quietly in his office, attention fixed unwaveringly to the news reports. This was a potentially serious issue. If Nightfox responded with force, it would certainly mean war. And that was about the last thing anyone needed at this point. After a brief moment of contemplation, he lifted the receiver to his private line. A few beeps, and finally a familiar voice on the other end.

"Zane. I'd like to arrange a little meeting with the Raven."

Zane's private cell rang. He was reluctant to pick it up. After a few rings, he hesitantly answered. "Zane.” He lit a cigarette. “Syphis... it has been a long time." Zane sighed, recalling the ordeal the last time they became involved with the government.

"Meeting her in person? I don’t know if that is possible. Raven does not usually meet with people. Information is given to me and passed along", Zane reminded him.

Even back then, Karasu never met with Vixont except briefly in disguise. She treasured her anonymity. "I can talk with her and see if she will meet with you, however, you will have to explain to me in detail why you want to meet her." Zane lit another cigarette. He had just been walking down the streets of Gaeltach, looking for a coffee shop. For the moment, he was living with Karasu... as a companion only, after the “incident “.

Lately Karasu had been spending all her time honing her skills. Her speed had increased. She could not be seen before at night, and even during the day, she only looked like a blur. Her anger and grief had changed her into exactly the opposite of what he had helped her become.

Her sniping was about the best around. She could use any weapon. Period. Moreover, she was possibly the best assassin in the world, and there had been many governments calling Zane asking for the services of The Raven. She declined them all.

Her eyes were cold and frightening now, and she no longer hesitated to kill anyone at all if the price was right. She was nothing but a cold-blooded killing machine. She had snapped and had become numb. She felt for no one. A solid icy stare was all that was ever on her face... Other than when she talked about Grammian’s death. Then she laughed… An awful laugh. This is what her family had always wanted. She was the perfect assassin... no emotions.

Not since Andreus was murdered.

"It's a matter of security."

His tone was soft as he glanced out the window to the capital city of Kildove below. Although he was certain his phone was tap-free, he never liked discussing these matters openly.

"Far more sensitive than that other ordeal I asked of her. This requires a bit more discretion than my soldiers are capabale of. A feminine touch, if you will."

While Gaeltach's military boasted healthy numbers of males and females alike, they simply weren't trained for espionage. And those idiots in the intellegence council couldn't be trusted. Not for this. With the whisper of feathers against the night breeze, a dark shape landed quietly outside his balcony window. The figure slid the door open quietly, eliciting a gentle grin from Vixont.

"I'll have one of the Guardians escourt you here. Then we can talk."

He ended the conversation at that and turned with a bemused grin to his visiter in the night. She had folded her black-feathered wings neatly behind her and set about pouring a cup of tea for each of them while he finished up on the phone. Gael, the Guardian of Kildove placed the cup before him and regarded him wryly. If it wasn't one favor, it was another.

Zane, still chain smoking agreed to this. "I will meet your guardian at Legion Park on the north end. I'm wearing a black trench coat and I'll be sitting on a bench smoking and reading a paper. You will have to make sure your guardian reveals that he/she is the guardian."

Zane was tired. Very tired. As he walked to the park, he imagined what Karasu was probably doing. She had honed her skills to the point that she was nearly inhuman. This was fantastic in his eyes. However, Andreus' murder had turned her into a completely different person. It's as if there were two Karasus... polar opposites. This one was so... inhuman. This was not Karasu. Until she came to terms with Andreus' murder, she would remain this way. He was sure of it. She loved him so much. He was the world to her.

"I'm on my way to the park right now", he told Vixont. "I'll be there in ten minutes." He hung up and lit another cigarette. He wasn't looking forward to telling Karasu about all this. Maybe she would agree to meet Vixont. She wasn't herself, so he never knew what she would do.

Gael flew soundlessly, carried by a cool current of night air. Her usual cup of tea with Syphis had been cut short for a favor. Not so unusual, but the favor itself was a bit strange. She would have much rather had his company, but duty was duty, and a simple request on the part of Syphis was not such a burden.

In Legion park, she finally descended, alighting silently on a grassy knoll and allowing her black-feathered wings to hang naturally behind her. The contact had requested that she identify herself as a Guardian. She smiled sardonically and glanced to the antiquated yet formal and functional bracers on her wrists. The leader of the Guardians stood in all her formal glory, adorned with a few other throwbacks to ancient times, not the least of which being a bronze torc at her throat. If appearance alone did not identify her to the stranger, she would be more than a bit surprized.

Serene and stoic, she descended the hill towards a tangle of trees to await her contact.

It was a beautiful day to walk in the park… a gentle breeze, the sun, the trees swaying in the wind.

Zane was walking through the park, a bit unsettled, as he knew this must have something to do with the attack on Nightfox. As he was nearing the bench with his paper, he put out his cigarette, threw out the old package in the nearest garbage can, opened a new one, and promptly lit up. Man, I'm worse than Ace, he thought as he sat down on the bench and opened his paper.

He knew Karasu was up to any job. She had done some amazing work with other governments, and she was in top condition... almost to the "never ever misses", regardless of what weapon she used, be it her favorite ancient weapons, or a 460XVR. Amazing that such a petite woman could even hold a pistol like that much less shoot it. However, she was almost inhuman with her skills and unfortunately inhuman with her emotions as well.

Zane gazed around and took a deep drag on his cigarette, on which he promptly choked. Not too far away by some trees he saw nothing he had ever imagined. What is that? It looks like a royal angel or something. I must be seeing things. He closed his eyes and looked again, but the woman in ancient garb, with wings was still standing there. This HAS to be the guardian. I wonder if it's one of Dekker's experiments?

Zane stood up, took a drag of his cigarette, and looked over and caught her eye.

Gael smiled inwardly at the man's obvious surprize. She never tired of that reaction. Besides, it was usually preferable to the fear with which many unfamiliar with these Gaeltach icons greeted her. Flickering an emotionless gaze over his form, she quickly and superficially analyzed this stranger. He seemed the usual dark-and-mysterious type, but that was none of her concern. As he approached, she shifted her weight slightly, defensively poised yet confident.

"You must be who I am here to meet. I am the Guardian of Kildove. You may call me Gael."

I hope this is not another one of those "experiments", Zane thought as he approached the, obvious, escort.

She introduced herself as Gael, Guardian of Kildove.

Well, she doesn't seem feral anyway, he observed. "Zane", he nodded his head as a greeting, still smoking his cigarette. He had never been known to be a talker, or as gregarious. Gregarious... that was the acronym for Zane.

"So, Gael, where are you escorting me to, and could you fill me in a bit before I see Vixont?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at Karasu's condo, (She was still living in the same condo since Nico, as it was still unknown to anyone other than Zane and her murdered lover.), she had just finished 3 hours of intensive martial arts training. Karasu knew what she needed to work on most and decided to practice her custom compact 460VXR. She had the usual, but it was huge. It took a lot of engineering and a LOT of practice not to lose stance when firing. The strongest pistol in the world, customized to fit in a large pocket or on her belt.

Karasu was grateful to her staff. The staff that had been loyal to her family for generations, as her family had continued their ‘trade’, generation after generation. In her country, particularly the way of her clan, they passed down their trades, and their secrets. Therefore, when she needed something, there was always someone there to fulfill her need for any custom item.

Her family, had they been alive, would have been so proud of her. However, even they may have shuddered at her coldness.

No one... not even Zane, could figure out how Andreus death could affect her this way, since he was the one who had changed her and made her an even better person. The common conclusion was, his death would have made her remember everything he ever taught her and that she would live on the way she was. It just did not happen that way.

Karasu was shooting 200 ft targets w/that pistol. This was no easy task. She was consistently hitting the bulls-eye, but she would not be content until there was absolutely no recoil movement at all.. She shot for hours. I will get this. I know I can, her eyes ice cold and an expressionless face accompanying her training.

"I'm sorry, but I do not have that information."

She began walking, figuring she couldn't very well fly with this man attempting to trail her. Though with a slight glimmer of amusement she glanced back over her shoulder.

"Though if I had to guess, I would say it has something to do with Nightfox. He's payed little mind to anything else since this whole business started up. I am taking you to his office. If you have any other questions, I will answer what I can."

Gael was helpful, yet strangely detached. This motion was a duty and nothing else. And the sooner she completed this task, the sooner she could get back to her lonely patrols of the city. Her path took them out of the park and down a discreet set of dimly lit streets towards the towering State building near city center.

Zane found the walk rather dull. He kept smoking as usual. Eventually they ended up walking down the streets he remembered from the past. Those memories... *sigh...

They were nearly there.

I know this has to do with Nightfox. I wonder what Karasu will do. She'll take any job for the right price. I'll have to inform him that she doesn't work for free anymore. Hell, I wouldn't doubt if she decided to meet him in person. She's changed so much. I miss the 'real' Karasu..., Zane thought wistfully.

A small farming town on the Nightfox side of the border had long been a target for anti-Nightfox groups. Today was no exception. While the negotiations were taking place at the shipping station in far-away Adelia, a raiding party formed quietly. Dressed in the old Gaelic dress and armed with ancient weapons, it was a strange and fearsome sight indeed. Bare-chested men bore strange painted symbols on their bodies and faces, though some of their clothing seemed decidedly modern. Poisoning the fields was no longer enough to satisfy them. More drastic measures had to be taken. Under cover of dusk, the raiders moved on the isolated town, burning and pillaging their way through the main streets and homesteads. They killed those who resisted, and took captive those they could. And before the moon had fully risen, the town was completely decimated, its citizens dead or being swiftly ushered into the obscure Gaeltach countryside.

----

Gael continued on their path, ever closing on the grand building ahead. Finally arriving at the great marble steps, she finally turned to her contact.

"This is where I leave you. For security reasons, please leave all weapons with the guards in the lobby. I believe you know where his office is.."

And without waiting for a reply, she rose into the dark sky on silent wings. The night was still young, and she had much to see to.

Outside the Nightfox embassy near the borders of Gaeltach, a figure was introducing itself on the doorsteps. He was in fact the S.D clan's ambassador, although he was having a hard time to persuade the guard that this was true. He was dressed in only a long brown coat, more suitable for a common citizen than an ambassador, and a hat that looked like it came out of an old noir detective movie. It his his face well enough from the light of the streetlamps above and so the guard was getting a little unnerved about who he was talking to.
"Young man, I have come quite a distance to mediate the negotiations, of what little there are, between your country and the one poised to make war with it. And you, one of the supposed protectors of your country, are stopping me, one of the few who might be able to stop such a war, because I left my identi-card in my proverbial other pants. I must say you are a credit to your country." His voice was a little tinny as if coming from a vox-coder, but most people put this down to a trick of the acoustics or an artificial voicebox for a medical reason.

As Zane and Gael were walking, they heard talk on the streets of what recently happened in Nightfox. How revolting.

Gael asked him to leave his weapons with the guards inside and flew off.

Zane made his way into the building and handed the guard his pistol.

"I am here to see Vixont. I know where his office is." He continued his trek to Vixont's office.

He wasn't really in the mood for this and was hoping Karasu would meet with Vixont personally. He didn't want to be a 'go-between' for this. Instinctively he pulled out a cigarette, and then realized he couldn't smoke in the building.

Fuck, he thought as he knocked on Vixont's door.

From behind the door came a muffled "enter," while Syphis busied himself preparing a few refreshments for his guest. A few cubes of cheese and some thin crackers were a staple of the office, one he liked to keep in good supply for just such occasions. While not hungry himself, he poured himself a second cup of tea and prepared another for Zane.

As the man shut the door behind himself, Syphis indicated that they would use a less formal looking set of chairs flanking a wall-mounted aquarium in leiu of the desk. He indicated Zane to sit and set the cup before him on a small glass-topped coffee table which already boasted the plate of cheese and crackers. His own mug he held, allowing the usual pregnant silence to build until he was ready to begin.

"Kildove is beautiful this time of year, isn't she?" he began wistfully with a glance to the mindless fish in their transparent prison, then turned slowly to Zane. "But I suppose busy men like ourselves aren't afforded the luxury of pleasantries, are we?"

He chose not to sit, but leaned casually, with one arm resting against the back of his armchair for support.

"Down to business I suppose. I wish to employ some of the Raven's more... clandestine tactics."

Zane sat down and accepted the tea Syphus offerred him.

"I hate to be rude," Zane stated, "but as you said, we are busy men. I need you to cut to the chase. The sooner you let me know the deal, the sooner I can talk to Raven."

Zane didn't particularly care for Vixont. And he knew Karasu didn't. She would work for him, if not only to find out what he was up to. That he was sure of.

"If this involves Nightfox, I can be quite sure that Raven will most likely be willing to help. What has been going on between these two nations has to stop."

Zane almost lit another cigarette. All these non-smoking areas and buildings were hard for him to get used to. "However, one thing has changed at this point. Raven works only for cash equal to the risk. She no longer puts herself out there because of her ethics. With that understood, please go on Syphus."

A cryptic smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, and Syphis allowed himself the small triviality of it. After all, this bit of news wasn't entirely unexpected.

"Yes, hatred begets only hatred. This bitter rivalry serves no purpose. However to stop this," he turned suddenly, serpentine in the fluid motion, and fixed Zane with a direct and pointed gaze, "I require a bit of intelligence. And I simply don't have anyone trained for what I am asking."

He left it at that, certain that Zane would take his meaning. Syphis had the powerful and sometimes frustrating quality of being direct only by saying something indirectly. Such had it always been.

Tempest threw his hands up in desparation. Sometimes he just wanted to shout to the world
Fine! Go to war! It's no skin off my back!
The problem was, it was.
He made a foul comment about the guards anscestry and then walked off in a foul mood. He took this as a sign that the two countries definitley did not welcome outside interferance- unless of course, if his sources were to be believed, outside interferance that one of them had called in. The S.D had been called in because they had cultural similarities with Gaeltach, being a highland clan themselves, and because they regularly sent in military personelle to be drilled in Sanctaphrax military dicipline. Not to mention the trade that would be lost from both sides if the war escalated much further.
He decided to make a call, if Sactaphrax wouldn't make any attempt at peace, then perhaps Gaeltach would. He looked around carefully to make sure noone was around this late at night, and removed his wide brimmed hat to reveal the polished metal of his alloy skull. The original Tempest had died many years ago, the greatest ambassador the country had ever seen. To honour his memory his brain patterns had been copied into android units to carry on his work. It had been seen as desecration of his memory to some, but to others it had seemed both fitting and exeedingly benificial to the country itself.
The Tempest unit extended an arial from the side of its cranium and it's eyes lit up with a pale blue light, and after a tiny whirring sound, said
"Hello, Gaeltach home office? It's the S.D ambassador here, I wonder if we could arrange a meeting..."

Zane stood up and looked at Syphus, rather amused at his linguistics. "I understand what you're saying, however, you're going to have to be a little more specific than that."

He chuckled at Vixont's odd way of getting his message across. "I do need details. I cannot go to the Raven and say THAT!" He snickered.

"Specifically, what is the job, what is the pay... details... all the details."

Zane had always been a down to business, waste no time guy.

"So please go on?" He asked.

Syphis, though annoyed, let nothing slip which might indicate his current demeanor. Instead, he sipped casually at his tea and cradled the mug in both hands.

"What I am asking is espionage. For now. We will set her up with some Nightfox credentials and the like, but I need to know how they are dealing with this tragedy. It is crucial to help divert a war."

He glanced over as a red message light began flashing on the face of his phone. Noting the line, he pressed a button to indicate where the call should be directed.

"As for pay, we can work that out. As you are well aware by now, I am never one to disappoint."

Zane, was becoming a bit annoyed himself. "You're being rather cryptic Syphus." Zane was jonesing for a smoke like crazy at this point.

"Perhaps a few more details on what this espionage entails would be helpful. Raven needs to know what she's up against and what type of self protection she will need, as well as exactly what you want her to do. I'm quite sure she would be willing to do her part to avert a war."

Zane walked around the office looking at various objects. "Is it a meeting with her that you would like? If that is the case, I can't promise anything, but I can ask." He paused.

"I need to know a little bit more about what exactly she will need to do. If I don't have that info when I talk to her, she won't even consider it."

Zane put down the crystal piece he was holding and looked at Syphus waiting for an answer.

"I already told you everything you need to know. I can't be more blunt about it. As I just said, I want her to find out how they're coping with this. If they're going to respond, and how. The manner in which she choses to go about this endeavor is of her own choice."

Though calm, his voice was slightly tight with controlled and even tones. Syphis was not a patient man and maintaining the outward appearance of self-control could often prove taxing. Especially when dealing with the dull-witted who seemed unable to grasp a simple instruction.

Zane was getting angry. "I mean specifics! Who or what is she posing as. You mentioned credentials, and yet you say she should go about any way she wants. What kind of credentials? This will make a difference as to what she can or can't do!"

Man, what a moron... Sharp as a marble. Zane hated when people beat around the bush this way. He was an impatient man and had no problem showing it.

"You've given me information that is too basic. Saying 'I want her to find out if they are planning on retaliating, any way she can', but giving her credentials... the credentials make a difference!"

Zane never had any qualms about being undiplomatic. If he was pissed, he showed it.

"Let me put this in a way your flat line brainwaves can comprehend!" Zane yelled, in an overtly more than undiplomatic way.

"First you said you will be giving her some sort of credentials. Just NOW was the first time you said anything about her going about it her own way. Mentioning credentials tends to make one believe you had a plan for her to go in as a particular official, or something similar."

Zane could not stand Vixont, which was obvious.

“I’ll ask her. She is unfamiliar with Nightfox, but that never stopped her before. I’ll let you know in a few days.”

Zane turned around and left the room. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. This has nothing to do with needing to know how they are dealing with this, other than to find out their weaknesses so Gaeltach can attack. Vixont has dirty hands. I can tell…

OOC: Sanct is away from MSN for 3 weeks. I'm not sure if that includes NS as well, but let's plan for that contingency.

Syphis had kept silent and stoic during the tirade, with a jaw subtly clenched to contain himself. Patience.. he reminded himself. Eyes narrowed to snake-like slits as he sipped at the last of his tea and the door leading from his office slammed shut.

"That sounded amiable.." A voice drifted softly from the balcony doors, curtains billowing gently in the night.

"Consider the source."

He smiled grimly and turned to his guest, refilling his mug and filling a second for her. It seemed Gael wouldn't miss her nightly tea after all.

----

"O'Connor," snapped a voice as he retrieved the phone from its cradle.

Gaeltach's second in command blinked at the clock, disbelieving he was still in the office at this hour. It was summer. Shorter hours were supposed to be the norm, but given the current circumstance...

"An ambassador?" It was his secretary on the line. "Very well... you know my schedule. Arrange the meeting."

He set down the phone and rubbed his eyes. This diplomatic nightmare in Nightfox was beginning to show its scope.

Zane had always considered Vixont a pretentious asshole. Sitting there sucking it in. That gave Zane great pleasure. He knew Syphus could hardly stand it, and was doing everything in his power not to blow up. Zane smirked to himself.

As far as this job was concerned, Zane knew it was not exactly what Vixont had told him, and the true motive was definitely NOT the garbage fed to Zane. However, this gave Karasu a chance to play both sides to some extent. She could find out what was going on in Nightfox, and to some extent Gaeltach.

Why not that flying woman? Wouldn't it be easier for her?
This was an odd request. I mean, was she supposed to crawl in the radiators and listen in? He chuckled to himself. Zane would easily get the best listening devices ever made, and anything Karasu would need, should she take this job.

It had been a while, so perhaps she would take the job, although she despised Vixont for that Diamond team episode, not to mention she did not really trust him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at Karasu's estate, she was working on her speed and gymnastics… that same numbness was consuming her, even when she was doing what she loved most.

She stopped and looked at the small device given to her by Andreus. That was the only time she felt something other than numbness or anger. It never lasted for long. Karasu had become far more dangerous. Her work was her outlet. She could easily kill someone with her hands at this point.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zane came in and gave her the information Vixont had given him.

Karasu looked at him with those icy eyes and expressionless face... It actually was uncomfortable for most people look her in the eye. "I'll take it."

Zane was rather surprised... "I thought you hated Vixont?"

"I do, but I have my own reasons for doing this. So when do I get these credentials?" She asked, not hesitating at all.

Zane was surprised at her reaction. "I'll call the bastard and find out."

Zane called Vixont immediately. "Vixont, its Zane. She has agreed and wants to know what credentials she will have, I told you, dork, and when you will get them to me so she can begin the operation."

OOC: Sanct is away from MSN for 3 weeks. I'm not sure if that includes NS as well, but let's plan for that contingency.


"O'Connor," snapped a voice as he retrieved the phone from its cradle.

Gaeltach's second in command blinked at the clock, disbelieving he was still in the office at this hour. It was summer. Shorter hours were supposed to be the norm, but given the current circumstance...

"An ambassador?" It was his secretary on the line. "Very well... you know my schedule. Arrange the meeting."

He set down the phone and rubbed his eyes. This diplomatic nightmare in Nightfox was beginning to show its scope.

OOC: Unfortunatley I'll be away for a week starting monday too, my character is of course less important but just thought I'd mention that.

Two taxi rides and bus transfers later, all awkward avoiding the stares of the other passengers, Tempest got to the place he had been told to go. Eradicating sleep by dying had done alot to make his job easier he thought with a twist of irony.
"I have an appointment" He said as he walked past the guard with all the authority he could muster. Sometimes it wasn't what you said but how you said it, if you walked like you had the right to be there and nobody else had then you could go alot of places without being stopped.
"Well, it's been only a minute and I've already gotten further than in Sanctaphrax. I'm actually inside the building" He muttered to himself as he sat down in the waiting room.

"Very well," Syphis began in his usual manner. "I will have it arranged and contact you again when everything is ready."

And with a simple click, that was that.

----

O'Connor woke with a start to a sharp buzzing noise somewhere near his head. He yawned and cracked a stiff joint or two before picking a paper clip off his cheek.

"Ambassador Tempest is here to see you, sir."

"Yes.. I'll uh... I'll be ready for him in a minute."

He rubbed his face groggily. Papers and work were still spread across his desk. Apparantly it had been a later night than he had anticipated. Though not the first time he'd spent the night in his office, it was a good lesson against using a desk for a pillow.

O'Connor took about 5 minutes to fix himself some coffee and get himself cleaned up and presentable before calling for the ambassador.

----

The "watchman" checked the time politely. His meeting with the Nightfox shipping director was not going entirely as planned, but soon it wouldn't matter. Already, his people were moving, and by now the new slaves and Nightfox captives were safely across the border and hidden away in the desolate highlands.

Karasu and Zane were having lunch, taking a break from Karasu's intensive training.

"Well, I wonder when he will want me to pick up those papers." Zane mutterred, quite irritated.

"Well maybe I'll start a little looking around on my own prior to getting the papers." Karasu told Zane. "I'd just as soon use these skills. They are all so finely honed, if I say so myself." She said this with a wicked grin. Not her old usual smile, but the look of something that wanted to go hunting.

ooc: Small piece of confusion. Are the slaves FROM Gaeltach and TAKEN by Nightfox?

ooc: Small piece of confusion. Are the slaves FROM Gaeltach and TAKEN by Nightfox?
OOC: Other way around.

ooc: TG Gael

O'Connor woke with a start to a sharp buzzing noise somewhere near his head. He yawned and cracked a stiff joint or two before picking a paper clip off his cheek.

"Ambassador Tempest is here to see you, sir."

"Yes.. I'll uh... I'll be ready for him in a minute."

He rubbed his face groggily. Papers and work were still spread across his desk. Apparantly it had been a later night than he had anticipated. Though not the first time he'd spent the night in his office, it was a good lesson against using a desk for a pillow.

O'Connor took about 5 minutes to fix himself some coffee and get himself cleaned up and presentable before calling for the ambassador.

From in the hallway, Tempest's eyes lit up after standing in the exact same position for half an hour. It unnerved the staff, but he had always found people were easier to talk to when they were unnerved. He stode with precice steps into the office and bowed his head to the man.
"I am glad you could take the time for this. Regrettably the Sanctaphrax office was not as...inviting." He sat down in the chair, and he noted the mans expression. Although his metallic visage could not put forward an expression, he gave the subtle impression he was used to it
"I find it best that people get it out of thier system. Yes, an android, but the mind is of any mans. Shall we dispense with the formalities?" He steepled his fingers.

"As you wish. Though I must say I'm a bit puzzled by your interest in the matter, Ambassador Tempest. The situation, though regrettable, is under control."

O'Connor dealt exclusively in half-truths and colored logic. Through necessity more than anything else. Staggering Drunks had always been somewhat of a mystery to him, and he could only guess why they chose to send a representative now. He smelled ambition and personal gain, but waited calmly for the man to say what he would. Siobhan had ordered an end to this violence, and if that meant outside sources, perhaps allowances could be made.

"As you wish. Though I must say I'm a bit puzzled by your interest in the matter, Ambassador Tempest. The situation, though regrettable, is under control."

O'Connor dealt exclusively in half-truths and colored logic. Through necessity more than anything else. Staggering Drunks had always been somewhat of a mystery to him, and he could only guess why they chose to send a representative now. He smelled ambition and personal gain, but waited calmly for the man to say what he would. Siobhan had ordered an end to this violence, and if that meant outside sources, perhaps allowances could be made.

"One might put forward the question, Mr O'Connor, under who's control. Let us see....." Tempest unrolled a print out from where it had been stuffed up his sleeve
"Slaves captured...chemical warefare...midnight raids...yes, very regrettable. But I think not very controlled. I make no secret of why..." He hesitated, the name of his nation had always had a colourful yet rather obvious history. He occasionally regretted representing a highland nation that had less of a monarchy and more of an organised brawl
"..Staggering drunks...has taken an interest. War is either bad for business or good for business depending on who you are. I can say with no guilt that we are of the former group. As you are probably aware greed is a most reliable motivator. Nevertheless, our people do have a soft spot for yours and our government has troops trained by Sanctaphrax. Evidently a war would mean quite a situation for us. But this goes for both your nations too of course. War would mean the death of thousands, millions, and a major economical problem for the victor. The problems for the looser go without saying. So what, Mr O'Connor, could concievably motivate your people to go to war?"

O'Connor sat forward slightly, folding his hands across the face of his desk.

"You seem to be quite well-informed, Ambassador." Too well-informed, perhaps. Some of the things he had just mentioned were still under highly-resticted access on Syphis' desk, and even the Sovereigness did not know about it all, yet.

O'Connor gestured for the printout, wishing to read over it for himself.

"War for us would be disasterous. Especially right now. Which brings me to the question," he paused briefly and fixed Tempest with a steady gaze, "what is it that you are proposing here?"

O'Connor sat forward slightly, folding his hands across the face of his desk.

"You seem to be quite well-informed, Ambassador." Too well-informed, perhaps. Some of the things he had just mentioned were still under highly-resticted access on Syphis' desk, and even the Sovereigness did not know about it all, yet.

O'Connor gestured for the printout, wishing to read over it for himself.

"War for us would be disasterous. Especially right now. Which brings me to the question," he paused briefly and fixed Tempest with a steady gaze, "what is it that you are proposing here?"

He passed over the cheap print out and matched O'Conners gaze. He did not miss eyelids, the lack of them made things easier.
"We may not be the smartest of nations, but we aren't stupid. Did you know that alot of government intelligence is from what is delicatly called 'a bloke I met in a pub'? The thing about war is that it is performed by it's citizens and frankly they seem to be performing the task with gusto. All I want is a simple meeting between government officials, I think you all need to know wether this is government sanctioned. Off the record, did you really know about all that was going on?"

OOC: Btw, we've lost KHJ

"Off the record, it doesn't matter. Knowledge does very little to stop a body in motion."

He sat quietly, weighing his options and glancing over the printout. This was chiefly a civilian undertaking afterall, and civilians often lacked discretion. Even so, he had hoped to keep the matter better contained than this.

"I can try to arrange a meeting. But there is no love lost between the Nightfox government and our own, so this might be easier said than done. I think you are right. We need some measure of understanding here."

OOC: I dunno what's up with Sanct, but I can't even get ahold of him via MSN lately, so we might have to do this without him. That, or recruit a new enemy. Just a heads up, Stag.

OOC: Btw, we've lost KHJ

"Off the record, it doesn't matter. Knowledge does very little to stop a body in motion."

He sat quietly, weighing his options and glancing over the printout. This was chiefly a civilian undertaking afterall, and civilians often lacked discretion. Even so, he had hoped to keep the matter better contained than this.

"I can try to arrange a meeting. But there is no love lost between the Nightfox government and our own, so this might be easier said than done. I think you are right. We need some measure of understanding here."

OOC: My god, the RP'ers are dropping like flies (Sorry for the time I took, I sort of....forgot it was my turn :headbang: )
"I agree. There may be no love lost between your two governments, but I think that whilst you both like to win at the game, niether of you want to smash the board. These days there are so many more efficient ways of waging war than simply defeating the enemy. Infantrymen have been replaced by accountants and cannons by lawful documents. Whats going on here should be a last resort, and for far better reasons than the ones being maintained at the moment."