NationStates Jolt Archive

It was a cold winter day in the capital of Coreworlds. The Senate is in session, hammering out one bill or another. The President is out of the city, giving a speech to the people of South Coredia (a state) on how great a new beach proposal is. The citizens of CC, from low-income manual laborers, to the powerful lobbyists that clog up the Senate, have absolutely no idea of the events to come, of the very things that will change them and the rest of the nation…forever.
Brett Holcomb and Michael Johnston, two 14-year-old best friends, walk along the Procona River on their way home from school. They had to hurry, as it will soon be nightfall, and their parents wouldn’t be very happy if they’re late. The boys took this route, and hoped that this one would work as a shortcut.
“What do you think your mom’s gonna cook tonight?” Brett asked his friend.
“Knowing her, it’s gotta be brain stew in chicken sauce, and with a…” Mike replied.
“Bowl of maggots on the side.” Brett finished, and they laughed. Just two ordinary kids, hurrying home. Then…
“Hey, I see something.” Mike said. He pointed towards an odd shape lying in the bushes, washed up on the shore.
“Let’s take a closer look.”
”I don’t know, Mike. Shouldn’t we be getting on?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Fine. You stay up here.” He started to slide down the slope, towards the mysterious object.
“All right, all right, I’m coming.” Brett slid down behind his friend.
It soon became clear what the object was. A dead man’s body, completely stripped of clothes and final dignity. Due to the winter cold, decomposition was slow, but was still somewhat evident on the body.
Shocked, the two boys exchanged scared looks, and scrambled up the slope, hollering for the cops.

OOC:
This is it. The civil war RP that I will soon tear the nation in half with. The real meat will come later.

Minutes later, the crime scene was awash with colors: blue, red, yellow, and white. The corpse was deposited into a body bag, and then carried away to the morgue. The forensic crew scoured the area for clues to this mystery.
“What do you think happened to the stiff?” Sergeant Shawn Williams asked his partner, while lighting up.
“Probably a hit. Guy got on the wrong side of a druggie, maybe?” Detective Walter Morgan shrugged. It wasn’t his first murder case, but he was almost sure that it will never get solved. Dead people still haven’t told tales, last he checked.
“It’s up to the boys at the morgue to figure that one out. Poor kids. Probably’ll get nightmares for a week.” Shawn glanced over at the grim young faces giving their story.
“Yeah. Someone get a shrink for them?”
“Maybe, unless they can tough it. Damn whoever killed the sucker to hell.”
“Got that right.” Walt sipped coffee, and watched the scene before him. Unless something breaks, which is a very rare thing, this case is closed before it even opens.

**************************
At the morgue later on…

“Hmm. Damage to the spleen. Stomach ruptured. An odd burn hole in the heart/lung cavity. Someone did a job on this man, that’s for sure.” The mortician gave his diagnosis.
Walt scribbled notes into his pad. “burn hole?”
“Take a look.” The mortician showed Walter the hole. The heart was cauterized, probably what killed this man.
“What weapon can do this?”
"I know of only two weapons around here that can do this. A blaster, or a lightsaber."
"We have a problem. A big problem."
"Indeed."

"You know who he is yet?" Walter asked.
“Nothing yet. A match may take a while.”
“Right. Any sign of drugs, alcohol, that sort of thing?”
“Well, there was a trace of coke and meth, but that isn’t in the blood. This stiff’s probably a seller, and had a deal go bad. Real bad for him.”
“I shall send flowers. Dead ones.” Walter will also shed no tears, as drug peddlers are below rocks on his scale. The number of youths whose lives he has seen destroyed just to have a snort of cocaine or a shot of meth…he shook his head in disgust.
“Make sure they’re rotten.” The mortician added.
“Will do.”
The computer chimed, to signal a match.
“Hmm.” The mortician scanned the screen, and suddenly paled. “Oh, my Lord! Take a look at this!”
“What?” Walter also looked at the screen. “Damn! Now this case is really getting interesting.”

DNA Match Found. Percent correct: 99.6%
Name: Nicholas Sandler
Age: 40
Sex: Male
Hair: brown/graying
Eyes: brown
Position: CEO
Co. Name: Boeing
Other: Supported the President’s election campaign last year and also a close personal friend of President John Chris Masaki. Uncle to VP Bryan Sandler

OOC:
Soon, this will become an open RP. Right now, though, it's story mode.

At the White House...

Bryan Sandler was writing up a briefing when he recieved a phone call.
"Hello? Speaking." The young man paled. "Uncle Nick? It can't be! Okay. Thank you."
He walked into my office. I knew something was wrong.
"John, it's Uncle Nick."
"What happened?"
"They found him in the river. Dead. His heart was cauterized. Sounded like a laser bolt."
"Oh man!"
"Yeah. We'll need to plan a funeral soon."
I sighed. Uncle Nick was the kindest man I ever met. He never had a bad bone in his body. A very generous CEO of the local chapter of Boeing, he was the main contributer to my election campaign, and also a big donator to the orphanages that dot the countryside. It's a terrible world where such a good man is murdered by a SOB.

Next Day...
It was a sad day today. Hundreds of people, the fans who loved him, piled out to give their last respects to Nicholas Sandler. Bryan and I said a few words of respect, and then we, with other pallbearers, grabbed the palls and walked the coffin (oak, with gold lining) to the hearse. As it pulled away, we headed into a armored car and a long line of cars traveled somberly down the road to Royal Cedar Cemetary. We, the pallbearers, carried Uncle Nick to his grave and lowered him in. Girls and women burst into tears, and the men just had grim faces. A good man, has gone. Now we investigate how this murder happened.

OOC: Any comments so far? I know it's slow, but I plan to have a twist on whodunit.

On a military base somewhere in the Dragon Mountains...

General Jared Hamdo sits in front of a computer with two aides. He is the top leader of the military, and controls the army. The screen shows a videotape of what happened to Uncle Nick. The truth is there. He is the one that has killed the man, with a red saber. Yes, the general is a Jedi, one of Grandfather Masaki's first students, and a failed one at that. His heart is one of darkness, but he hides it well, utilizing the dark side.

"Now, I want you to change this saber color. Make it blue. Can you do that?" He ordered the aides. They nodded, and got to work. Using special advanced CGI software, they 'tweaked' the blade color, removing the red, and putting in the blue.
"Good, very good. Next, change the voice. Make it younger. Say a teenager's voice, the boy. I want to make sure that the boy is implicated, and I'm not."
The General turned away to laugh as the aides got to work.
"Oh, young John Masaki. You have been very bad. Now you will pay for your crime. Perhaps I will give a little personal punishment. Soon, you will be defeated, and I will take your place, as the Emperor of Coredia (OOC: real name of nation)." He then spoke into a radio. Commander, are the Shadow Jedi ready?"
"Yes, my master." Commander Abelia, his most trusted right-hand woman, is a very cold lady. Though not a Force-sensitive, she is trusted beyond all others, and uses deadly martial arts to her advantage.
The Shadow Jedi are a group of failed students that have been expelled from the Academy for various reasons, and they are itching for revenge. 30 in all, they are to be the SS (think Hitler's) of the new government, once it is set up.
"Sir, we're finished." an aide announced. He pressed the play button.

The figure with the saber walked up, and had a mask on.
"Ah, Uncle Nick. It's a surprise to see you."
"Who are you?"
"Aw, you should know."
"You! What do you want?"
Snap-hiss! "Only your blood, old man."
The figure stabbed Uncle Nick in the chest, burning a hole into the man's heart. The face registered pain, and rage, then breathing stopped.
"Goodbye, Uncle!"

"Excellent! Abelia, take this to the CWNN station, and make sure there's no doubt that Masaki is the one who killed him."
"Yes sir."

OOC: Getting good? :twisted:

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