NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: I've more or less decided that I'm retiring from the RP world of NationStates. I'll keep my nation alive, if only because I'm curiously proud of breaking the 5 billion barrier, but I probably won't be doing any more RPs. That damned inconvenience, real life, has crept up behind me and forced to me to pay more attention to it. Stupid thing.

Anyway. Behold the final RP. If you've RPed with me before, it would be awfully nice of you to make an appearance, even if it's only an OOC comment. That said, I don't actually care who joins. Open means open, after all. Feel free to TG me if you've got any questions.

Enjoy.)

"Somebody had better be invading us right now, I swear..." Muttered General Lichen as he stepped out of his limo and strode towards the government headquarters. It was 3AM. He was tired. It was raining. Life wasn't looking very good at that moment in time.

"I don't think it's anything as drastic as that, sir..." Panted his aide, running to catch up with him. While General Lichen was tall, grey haired and physically imposing, his aide was as intimidating as a tub of ice-cream. A small tub, at that.

However, the General was about as smart as said tub of frozen snack. He had really only made it to the rank of General by abnormally good luck. His aide, however, was cunning. He suspected everyone was out to snake his job out from underneath him, and was always informing his boss of his suspicions. They made a good team.

"Who the hell gets up at 3 AM?!" Continued the General, as he powered along the corridors of the building. "Honestly, Mark, this had better be as important as you think it is."

Inside Emergency Briefing Room #4 was a large oak table. Sat around it were the most important people in the country: High Punisher Hrrachen, the dictator; Air Chief Marshall Thomas Donovan, the head of the Air Force; Admiral Michael Pyper, the head of the navy; and Dr. Christopher Greff, the nation's advisor on all things nuclear related. No one had ever seen him outside his lab coat, which he seemed to wear at all times.

General Lichen (as the head of the army) took his place at the table, his aide taking a seat behind him. He suddenly realised that an invasion might be happening after all.

"Right, everyone's here." Said Hrrachen. "So what's going on, Doctor?"

Greff stood up and bowed to everyone. "Yes, I'm sorry you all had to get out of bed at this time, but something important has come up."

An overhead projector flicked into life, casting a picture onto the wall behind him. The lights dimmed to make the picture clearer.

"This is nuclear power plant R, located to the west of the capital. It's on the central belt of the country, on the outskirts of the city of Milvokk." He began. Behind him, the OHP showed an aerial picture of Plant R. For those who weren't sure what it was, a large red arrow with the words "PLANT R" next to it was pointing at it.

"The plant, like so many of the other plants in Dregruk, has received some criticism for being too expensive to maintain. The Board of Directors decided to try and take some cost-reducing measures. Most notably, they decided to stop using the... ah... safety rods inside the reactor."

A silence fell across the room.

"Safety rods?" Asked Hrrachen, after a few moments.

"They sort of stop the reactions taking place inside the reactor getting out of control, sir." Said Greff.

"They sound important."

"They are, rather. We're not sure if the Board of Directors were afflicted by some sort of illness that impeded their brain functions when they made this decision, but they made it nonetheless."

"So, what's going to happen without those rods?"

"Well, something like this..." Said Greff, replacing the picture of Plant R on the OHP with a hastily scribbled picture of a mushroom cloud, with the word "boom" scribbled next to it. "The explosion would probably wipe out the city. And everything inside a 20 mile radius. Give or take."

"Well, get those control rods back in it, then!" Said Hrrachen, keen to get back to bed.

"There's a slight snag, sir..." Said Greff. Hrrachen sighed. "Well, you see, my department came under strong criticism a few months ago when a study of a nuclear attack suggested that, if you, sir, were to be killed in an attack, no one would have the ability to actually fire our nation's nuclear missiles thanks to the current fail-safes."

"So, what did you do? And why's this a problem?"

"We developed the Retaliatory and Total Humiliation programme, or RATH for short. Basically, a bank of computers deep underground will register if a nuclear explosion occurs above ground. And they'll sort of... launch... everything we've got."

A stunned silence followed.

"At who?" Asked Hrrachen, staring.

"Well, everyone we can reach. Roughly three missiles per country."

Hrrachen buried his head in his hands. "So, let me get this straight; if that plant kersplodes, which it will thanks to the money saving actions, then all the nukes we've got will be fired at everyone that's within reach?"

"Yes, sir. To be honest, we hadn't really thought of a situation like this turning up..."

"You know what we need to do now, don't you?" Asked Hrrachen. "We need to try and explain to the world why we're about to nuke them en masse.. Send out a message over any means that will be reached by as many countries as possible; we're having an emergency summit."

"So what you're saying is that Dregruk has found itself possessing critical information about a potential nuclear catastrophe, and has actually moved to tell us about it?"

The Emperor, resplendant in his dressing gown and pyjamas, having been woken up at just past 1am local time with reports of an urgent communique which had been broadcast on all international frequencies, or at least many of them. Still half asleep in mind, Matthew VI somewhat lacked in tact and subtlety with his wording, but his mind was very much focusing on the issue at hand.

"Yes, sir. They sent the warning out to all nations within a 1000 miles radius, we believe, although it's probable that many more have recieved the broadcast."

"And what exactly did they say? Just that there might be some huge nuclear disaster?"

"Yes, sir. They were pretty non-specific but they invited any and all nations to come to a conference being held shortly. Very urgently. The focus seemed very much on getting everyone to attend, rather than just making the invitation known."

"Well well...The Dregrukians seem to have ended their little power-grabbing games and are trying to cooperate with the world...or perhaps it's a trap..."

"There is always the possibility, sir..."

"Hmmm...indeed. Much as I am distrustful of this message, the risks are simply too great to ignore it. While it could be a simple ploy to gain hostages, and perhaps even eliminate several world leaders, we can't take the risk that this nuclear threat indeed does threaten us, or anyone else." Thinking of the Falasturian Imperial population within those 1,000 miles - a figure somewhere around 25 million due largely to the presence of a small but overpopulated island in the vicinity which had long been a major trading hub and military outpost - the Emperor put his head in his hands, heaving a protracted sigh as he strained to think of the best course of action. Eventually lifting his head, he nodded to himself at the decision he had made before relaying it to the aide who had woken him. [i]"Have the Privy Council informed immediately, if they haven't already. Inform them that I recommend Mr. Devaine of the Diplomatic Corps attends the lecture with whatever staff he chooses to request. He's authorised to given Falasturian consent to anything he believes is right, I think we all trust his judgement. Your duty..."

With a brief nod, the aide hurried off to complete his tasks. If this situation was anything like as urgent as made out, then there wasn't a minute to waste.

"There's been a response to your summons, sir," Said a new arrival into the room. He was a young man, in his early twenties, and was clearly terrified of being in the presence of the nation's leader.

Hrrachen gave him a level stare, waiting for the actual news to be told to him. There was a silence for a very uncomfortable five minutes: Hrrachen wasn't saying anything, thinking that the messenger was about to actually give him the news; likewise, the messenger wasn't saying anything, thinking that Hrrachen was about to acknowledge the development.

Finally, the deathly silence was shattered by the head of the Air Force falling off his seat with a crash. Hrrachen turned and asked, "Are you alright?"

The messenger, however, thought that Hrrachen was finally addressing him.

"Well, sir, we've received a reply from the nation of Falastur. They're sending someone to meet us."

"Emperor Matthew?"

"No, sir. Some diplomat guy."

"Please tell me has an important title... like Lord, General or something." Sighed Hrrachen, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

The messenger shuffled through some papers he was carrying. "Um... no. He's just called 'Mr. Devaine.'"

"Bloody typical..." Groaned Hrrachen, "We're trying to warn the world about our new policy of 'Nuke everything twice'..."

"Eh, three times, sir." Said Dr. Greff. "It worked out to be at least three missiles per..."

"Oh shut up."

[ Open, eh? I'd join, but I doubt my usual 'giant squirrel' type of zaneinees would work. I'll watch, though. ]