NationStates Jolt Archive

((Warning, this thread contains depictions of gore and death. If you can't handle that, then don't bitch when you read it anyway. I told you. ))

Dan lets the door slam closed behind him and determinedly ignores the mud he's tracking across his floor. Another drenched day in Tirest, and no relief in sight. His house creaks in the wind, water already up to the steps out on the elevated patio.

He stops to take off his shoes where the kitchen becomes the dining room, unwilling to spend the effort to get the mud out of the carpet. The couch is a welcome relief after a day of struggling to hold back the annual flood, even though his clothes are soaked and frigid.

Stars swim in his vision for a moment, blurring it for a moment. His eyes have been getting worse lately; must be his age. It soon passes, though his headache grows worse.

Just before dinner, he feels something wet on his cheek. He wipes at it, and his hand comes back bloody. He almost trips in his rush to reach the bathroom, and its mirror.

There, from the corners of his eyes, tears of blood seep forth and drip down his cheeks. Even as he watches, twin rivulets of crimson emerge from his nostrils, and blood begins soaking the hair brushed close to his ears. His shriek is audible even out in the street, though it quickly dies as his lungs fill with blood.

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

"Hi, and welcome back to Tirest Federal News. Doctors in the Italo Province have expressed concern over some kind of outbreak. Official sources have clamped down on any news regarding the apparently new disease. Eye-witness accounts, however, seem to link the symptoms with the highly publicized 'Crying Statue' incident a few months ago. One of the statues in Domitor Square began shedding tears of what appeared to be blood, drawing millions of pilgrims to see the phenomenon. The Domitor has refused to comment on... hey, what are you doing in here?"

The camera tilts suddenly as several men approach the news desk. One says something that a mic doesn't catch, and places a gun to the anchor woman's head. The report of the weapon silences the news floor, and spatters the camera with gore. Then, the feed dies.

(OOC: Is what you are describing symptoms of Ebola?)

((Nope. It's not a real disease.))

(OOC: Well, the symptoms you've listed are remarkably similar to Ebola)

The Dominion of The Captain has issued a travel ban, effective immediately, on all of its citizens going to Tirest.

Any citizens caught going there and trying to reenter the country will be stripped of their citizenship and expatriated on the spot. They will be given a rowboat and one (1) oar, and put into the ocean.

The Rogue Nation of Squeezitlandia wants to help Tirest, not only in concern of human life, but because finding a cure now will be most beneficial if the disease did actually spread to other lands.

Squeezitlandia would be willing to help fund research to end this disease, and also recruit volunteer scientists to go in protective gear and help find a cure, but the strange circumstances surrounding the outbreak and the silencing of news about it leads the Rogue Nation to believe that its help would be unwanted, and the freedom-loving peoples of Squeezitlandia are not inclined to want their tax money to go towards such a state.

Citizens of Squeezitlandia are advised to avoid Tirest, although the advisory is mostly cosmetic as not many Squeezitlandians travel there in the first place.

The Armed Republic of Aachor Warlords, for the good of all mankind, considers using high yield, nuclear weapons to rid the world of such a hidious sickness. The Armed Republic notes the lack of significant funds allocated by the weak nation of Tirest for defence purposes.
The Republic welcomes any comments on this matter.

The Armed Republic of Aachor Warlords, for the good of all mankind, considers using high yield, nuclear weapons to rid the world of such a hidious sickness. The Armed Republic notes the lack of significant funds allocated by the weak nation of Tirest for defence purposes.
The Republic welcomes any comments on this matter.
Do so and face annhiliation. Our nation finds your comments disgusting.

The Armed Republic of Aachor Warlords, for the good of all mankind, considers using high yield, nuclear weapons to rid the world of such a hidious sickness. The Armed Republic notes the lack of significant funds allocated by the weak nation of Tirest for defence purposes.
The Republic welcomes any comments on this matter.

Squeezitlandia does not support the idea of annihilating innocent lives because of a corrupt government. Not only this, the consequences of nuclear war would not merely be contained within the borders of Tirest. Squeezitlandia does, however, believe that a little coerced regime change could be beneficial.

The Republic thanks Squeezitlandia, and Exonerate for their comments. All will be taken into consideration.

The Armed Republic of Aachor Warlords, for the good of all mankind, considers using high yield, nuclear weapons to rid the world of such a hidious sickness. The Armed Republic notes the lack of significant funds allocated by the weak nation of Tirest for defence purposes.
The Republic welcomes any comments on this matter.

Squeezitlandia does not support the idea of annihilating innocent lives because of a corrupt government. Not only this, the consequences of nuclear war would not merely be contained within the borders of Tirest. Squeezitlandia does, however, believe that a little coerced regime change could be beneficial.
We disagree - a regime change now would throw the government into chaos, effectively crippling both it and its containment efforts. We really wouldn't want this to get out of their country, would we?

Tirest, we'd offer help, but nation currently is mobilizing for a possible war...

The Federal Republic Department of Health has advised the Senate to authorize the funding of several teams to go to Tirest and aid in the research efforts being undertaken there by Tirest and other nations, in an attempt to contain the outbreak at the very least. The Senate is expected to pass the resolution any hour now, however, recognizing the implications of the virus' possible spread, the Senate has asked the War College to formulate a plan to rapidly establish a quarintine around Tirest to prevent anyone from entering or exiting the nation.

This plan, rumored to be dubbed "Plan W", would utilize Federal Navy ships to establish a tight zone of control around Tirest, which would then be kept in place until such time as deemed safe to pull them back. All Republic citizens have been denied passports to Tirest, and any citizens currently in Tirest have been told to await the arrival of the Federal health team and not to return. Any Tirest citizens attempting to enter the Republic will be turned back, and any currently in the Republic will be detained for the time being.

The Armed Republic of Aachor Warlords, for the good of all mankind, considers using high yield, nuclear weapons to rid the world of such a hidious sickness. The Armed Republic notes the lack of significant funds allocated by the weak nation of Tirest for defence purposes.
The Republic welcomes any comments on this matter.

Squeezitlandia does not support the idea of annihilating innocent lives because of a corrupt government. Not only this, the consequences of nuclear war would not merely be contained within the borders of Tirest. Squeezitlandia does, however, believe that a little coerced regime change could be beneficial.
We disagree - a regime change now would throw the government into chaos, effectively crippling both it and its containment efforts. We really wouldn't want this to get out of their country, would we?

Tirest, we'd offer help, but nation currently is mobilizing for a possible war...

True. The population of our nation just believes that the government of Tirest is directly responsible for the disease, and fear biological warfare will be used against them. The government is currently trying to quell this paranoia, but it sometimes seeps into the policies of the government itself. We are, however, certain that even if this disease was not directly instigated by the government of Tirest, Tirest will probably deal with it in a dangerous and inappropriate manner.

We would like to help the citizens of Tirest. We have little to offer militarily, but will offer financial help to The Sword and Sheild's scientists if they find that Tirest is accepting of their help and are making progress toward ending the epidemic, and immediate financial aid in quarantining the nation. This is highly desired by our citizens.

When the TFN feed is reestablished, hours later, no sign of the woman or the violence remains to be seen. A slightly overweight, but still photogenic, gentleman sits behind the sparkling clean pine desk.

"We apologize for the interruption of services caused by technical errors, and we thank you for your patience.

In new developments, the Domitor has acqueisced to pressure from external sources, and has agreed to release a press statement regarding the so-called Weeping Disease. Let's go live to the Palace of the Ancients."

_____________________________________________________________

The camera pans across the audience of the press release, apparently the only camera in a room stocked entirely with Tirestian reporters. Many wear flimsy white masks over their faces and noses. Fear of the disease, even though its symptoms remain a tightly controlled secret, is widespread.

A massive ebony door at the far end of the chamber opens pondorously, permitting twelve robed figures to file into the room. The robes are so think and heavy that the gender of the wearer is impossible to determine, and shrouds their faces in darkness. Each takes a palce behind a chair at a long table, leaving the head spot empty. The reporters seem to take this in stride; a pregnant silence hangs over the immaculate room.

The Domitor, wearing what appears to be woven silver robed with purple trim, follows them in moments later. He takes his place at the head of the table.

"People of Tirest, loyal citizens, I greet you; Those who watch from afar, I wath over you. Through one, all, and through all, one." His voice is a clear tenor reminiscent of a rather large brass bell, and years of practice have taught him how to project that voice almost theatrically. The crowd murmmurs the final line of the greeting, and the nation's motto, with him.

Some kind of spark flickers across the frame for a few moments, skittering wildly around the table. A hand covers most of the lens, and then the screen goes dark. However, the audio feed continues.

"There is nothing to fear. The rumors are no more than heretical propaganda, spread by those who would see our stability cast down. The notion that any disease would mirror a miracle is intellectually bankrupt. What occured in Domitor Square was a miracle, I assure you. My will is still with this nation."

He pauses for a moment and clears his throat. "There is nothing to fear. War is unecessary, and a horror that this nation has left behind. Threats to detonate nuclear devices to cleanse this false disease are mere rumors, sedition spread by our enemies domestic and international. "

"Let me reassure you. There is nothing to fear."

____________________________________________________________

The picture reappears suddenly, in the TFN newsroom. The man looks even more nervous than before.

"Again, we're sorry. We still seem to be having problems with our feed, but these things happen in live TV. In other news, Tirest's record-breaking fattest cat died of cholesterol poisoning today..."

((bump))

Torturous,
Agonizing,
Gasping

Robert Brooke stumbled through the corridors of the Valiant, a queezy feeling overcoming him as the cruiser again lurched into the air as the waves propelled it upwards. He had never been a sailor, something about the oceans endlessness always frightened him. He fancied it strange that while he had regularly visited the ports and naval bases of Port Royal, where he grew up, he had always marveled at the majestic curves of the ships, specifically the gracefully curved cruisers and destroyers arranged in stern patterns. Whenever a battleship or fleet carrier came in, he was always there to see it dock, always the first to greet the sailors as they got off, but ask him to step onto one of these ships, and he backed down immediately.

And here he was, desperately seeking his cabin as the world spun around him, he had made the mistake of visiting the upper bridge, feeling the deck moving below his feet but seeing nothing but black out of the viewports. 'It will all be over soon' he kept repeating in his head, the ship was bound for Port Royal, where he would meet the rest of the Medical team, and again board another ship for a travel to a far away place he couldn't even pronounce. The call had gone out for volunteers with medical experience willing to risk the ultimate, of course, it had been the money that enticed him. Having lost everything worthwhile in his life, and falling on hard times, he was willing to do anything for a credit, even travel across the sea, but soon, soon he would arrive in Port Royal, receive his first paycheck, and waste it away within days, before crawling again into one of these sardine cans.

"Well," he thought to himself, "could be worse, it could be a submarine." At that moment the ship came crashing back down into the sea and he flew into a bulkhead, feeling vomit climb upwards into his mouth, he rested his hand against the bulkhead, lowered his head, and began to repeat a process he was becoming all too familar with.

12:35 A.M., Local Ramadoon Time
Deep within the underground complex of the Ramadoon Council of War and Defense

"How did this happen, Jerry?" General Dayton sat behind his desk, reviewing the day-old TFN news feed. A seasoned military man, Dayton was accustomed to order and having everything done his way. The incident at Tirest was something he never expected.

"The C-130 crashed. Engine failure. How could we predict that would happen?" Major Pollack replied with a tone of indifference. He paused to wait for his superior to shout him down; he knew Dayton was beyond furious because he didn't. "Sir, we're handling the situation. The Province has been secured, and it doesn't seem the Tirestian government is aware of what had happened." He paused, thinking of a way to comfort his worries. "Anyway...it won't make a difference. If their hazmat teams step foot in the region, they're as good as dead too."

Dayton rubbed his temples as he winced at the site of the TFN reporter's gray matter being splattered all over the camera. "And what do you call that?"

"Containment. If you don't like it, why don't we just give up now and hang ourselves at the Royal Family's doorstep?"

The general sighed. He knew that the punishment for his military blunder would likely be spell out a death penalty. "Have you sent a team in?"

"Yes, sir."

"With the proper equipment, I hope...?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Salvage what you can and destroy the evidence. You know the way I want it done."

"Spotless."

--------------------------------
3:18 A.M., Local Tirest Time
Outskirts of the Italo Province

The stink of death and disease hung over the Italo Province. Corpses were randomly spread aboutthe village streets, already deteriorating at an alarmingly quick rate. Some were already unrecognizable as human beings--just patches of crimson pulp.

From the perspective of the incoming VTOL transports, the results of the virus remained unseen. All there was to view from their location were bright spots of amber, perhaps fires started by rioters taking advantage of the hysteria brought about by the catastrophe. At a long strip of road, the headlights of stopped cars marked an imaginary border between the province and the darkness of the surrounding forest.

"Eagle 1, making final descent. Checking cabin status...Seals are holding up. Boys, make your final checks on your armor. Do not leave anything unlatched."

The first VTOL rotated its engines away from its insertion point, a grassy knoll next to Italo's public library. Slowly, it rotated again, now towards a perpendicular position, to soften its landing. Three others followed suit.

As the aircraft touched down, their airlocks hissed. A small contingent of soldiers, among them two scientists with an expertise in biological agents, stepped out of the VTOLs. They were all clad in armor akin to what one might see in a science fiction movie. Each one was totally insulated from the outside world--no air filtration system was used in the breathing apparatus. Instead, oxygen was extracted from the water vapor and carbon dioxide exhaled and reused as air. The elements left unused were expelled from the suit. Though it was quite a clunky ensemble, it was the only thing to protect them from the virus--the usual hazmat attire was utterly useless for something as potent as this.

"You guys at R&D really messed up this time." The soldier's voice was somewhat distorted by the mic, but clearly audible to Dr.'s Langley and Petrov, as well as his fellow mates.

Petrov retorted through clenched teeth. "If your flyboy buddies had--" He was suddenly cut off by his colleague.

"We're not here to argue. Let's just do our job and let them do theirs..."

Another soldier cut in on the conversation, "Yeah, which is cover both your a**ses from human tomato juice." He pointed at the heap of human gob that was piled a few feet from him. "Kinda funny that it's still got its original outline. It's as if somebody ran him over with a steamroller."

"Enough with the jokes, Private. All we need to do is find where the original strain came from. You just point and shoot at something moving that doesn't look like the rest of us."

Jets screamed in the distance as more transports arrived to bring in additional personell into the area. By dawn, there would be a whole army of them. If everything went according to plan, no one would even know they were there.

((I would have really, really liked you to have consulted me before doing that, Ramadoon, but it doesn't upset my plans. So, on with the show.))

Tottering down the streets, a woman approaches the foreign teams. Her feet are scabbed and bleeding, and trickles of blood leak from the corners of her mouth and her eyes. Broken phrases from Carmina Burana slip past her cracked and shriveled lips.

"O fotuna...vita detestabilis...sors imanis... et inanis..."

She staggers on, heedless of the blood or the pain, out of her mind with the disease. She collapses at their feet, and falls still.

____________________________________________________________

Foreigners tread on Our soil.

How can We be sure?

It has been seen.

What do We do?

Turn it against them.

But it cannot be controlled.

It can be enticed. Attracted away from Us. It is here for Us. Send it away.

We did not bring it here.

Send one of the Incarnates.

Do We risk infection by sending one of Ourselves?

We do not know. He knows, but He will not tell us.

He brought it. He thought he could control it. His will is Our will.

How do We know He does not control it?

That thought frightens Us.

With good reason.

Send the Incarnate.

I We It He Tirest The fear all is has is Domitor for do. here. brought at Our future. it. risk. weakens. We Fear.


____________________________________________________________

The massive silver-gilded doors of the Palace of the Ancients swing open, spilling light from the courtyard upon the frigid stone floor within the Palace. A train of servants, carrying a litter bearing one of the female Councilors out of the city.

All traffic in the streets slows to a stop, leaving citizens with eyes downcast and averted. No cars, or vehicles of any kind, choke the streets; the litter and train passes easily through a crowd that parts before it. Into the sunrise, they travel, towards one of the oldest provinces conquered by what would one day become Tirest. Towards the home province of the Domitor.

ALL travellers from Tirest irrespective of their country of origin will not be allowed to enter Jeruselem or any of her territories. This is effective immediately and all travel to or from Tirest is banned.

Queen of Jeruselem
Keeper of the Holy Lands
http://www.whoosh.org/issue28/direct/penelope.jpg

Alliances
Defenders of The Faith
http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=101677

The Secreteriat of Purisgard writes,

The Theocracy of Purisgard is deeply concerned regarding this new virus. Thus, Purisgard will take precautionary measures against this virus. All travellers coming into Purisgard will fill out a form regarding the countries/states visited 2 weeks before. Any one failing to do so will be prosecuted by law.

God help us all in this crisis.

Blessed Purry I

OOC: Sorry, Tirest...but it just seemed that the source of the sickness was left unknown. I answered that, but my apologies for not having consulted you first. Also, I will see if I can get some pics hosted of what the containment field, the troops, transports, etc. look like to give you an idea.

9 A.M., Local Tirest Time
Approx. 150 miles northeast of Ground Zero

In just six hours the Ramadoon special forces had already numbered close to three-hundred thousand. Most of them were stationed outside the biological containment field they had just set up. Run by five nuclear generators, they contained the virus within a hundred mile radius. Fortunately, Oedipus (aptly named so, as the first visible symptom is profuse bleeding from the eyes) was still being spread from person to person. Had it become airborne, the magnitude of its effects would have been biblical.

The aforementioned divisions standing guard outside of the Italo Province were given orders to prevent anyone from entering the area.

"HQ, Bravo Five-Niner spotting an unidentified convoy due south...Identifying target...Target is Tirestian. Requesting permission to open fire."

"Negative, Bravo Five-Niner. Targets are civilian. Repeat, targets are civilian. Approach, but do not open fire. Inform them of the contagion and assure them we are working on an antigen."

"Roger that."

Outside one of the Italo outsposts, a small posse consisting of 14 soldiers wearing a toned-down version of their counterparts' armor in Italo divided themselves into two awaiting APCs. Their engines roared to life as they sped towards their "guests"...

It was a cold, windy day in the desolate nation of Caligatio; nothing out of the ordinary. However, a blazing fire warmed the Congress of Caligatio in their headquarters located a few miles north, facing the magnificent view of the sea.

What was unusual was the appearance of the President of Caligatio at the congressional session. The President, a tall man with greying hair in his early 50s, was known only as Todd M., his last name kept secret for security purposes.

He slowly stepped up to one of the podiums littered around the hall and began to speak:

"Esteemed congressmen and women, I regret to inform you that an international crisis has reached the shores of Caligatio. A few hours ago, it became known to us of an outbreak of a new disease in the neighboring nation of Tirest. Its origins are unknown, but what is apparent is the threat of an outbreak in Caligatio. Thus, I propose in this dire situation, we close the borders of Caligatio completely until this situation can be placed under control."

"Also, I feel it is our moral obligation to attend to the needs of Tirest. Thus, I additionally propose sending a team of top scientists and peace-keeping forces to the aid of Tirest."
----------
One congressman, noted for his extremely selfish politics, literally jumped out of his seat following the President's speech. Rambling like a mad-man, he took the podium, out of breath, but completely able to spout out his liberal banter.

"How dare we get involved with a foreign crisis! Do you understand how much money this will cost Caligatio? And why should we risk our scientists and peace-keeping forces' lives for another nation's problem? Caligatio has enough problems already, what with the falling economy and the infringement upon civil rights by this President! This is an outrage that the Congress of Caligatio must not stand for!"
----------
Several hours later, Congress quited down, finally ready to take a vote on the subject, as was necessary in this predicament. The President left the room, disgusted with selfishness of the politicos.

But his disgust was soon turned to a sigh of relief as news of the vote came to him in a private room in the Congressional Hall.

His proposals were affirmed, with a vote of 60-40.
----------
Several hours later, on the largest military base in Caligatio, a team of 10 epidemic-experts and 2000 peace-keeping troops were placed on several military planes. Their destination: the nation of Tirest.

Less than an hour later, the planes arrived in Tirest Air Space. They hailed the nation.

"The Confederacy of Caligatio requests permission to land."

OOC: And now, for the much awaited pics. Most of the pics are from Final Fantasy: the Spirits Within, one from Aliens, and another from Halo. This should give you an idea of what the expeditionary force looks like.

[Edit: additional info added]
http://www.digikitten.com/playhousev2/files/LtNathanWest/Interior1.jpg
An interior shot of the business district of the Italo Province, with the yellow tinge being the containment field.



http://www.digikitten.com/playhousev2/files/LtNathanWest/Withoutarmor.jpg
Ramadoon Special Forces (stationed outside of the containment field)
Armor is impenetrable to 7.62 mm rounds and below, as well as energy weapons (to a certain extent). If it took too much abuse or was shot at at relatively the same area of the armor, it will give in, though not completely. The bullet will be prevented from penetrating the armor, but the impact can cause internal injuries. Special Forces carry a P4A2 pulse rifle with energy cell ammunition capable of holding 80 rounds. Attached to the rifle is a PG82 proton grenade launcher, which has a blast radius of 3 meters. An ocular range finder with dual vision settings (night, infra-red) and target indicators are outfitted on the helmet.

http://www.digikitten.com/playhousev2/files/LtNathanWest/armor.jpg
Ramadoon Elite Guard (stationed inside the containment field)
Armor and armament is basicaly the same as Special Forces, albeit they are sealed off from the external environment. Also, they carry a modified P4A2 capable of using extended ion cell cartridges that hold much more ammo than your stock energy cell ammunition and lack a PG82 attachment. However, they are allowed to carry VG-1 grenades, which can vaporize anything within 5 meters of it.


http://www.digikitten.com/playhousev2/files/LtNathanWest/apc.jpg
Ramadoon Armored Personell Carrier
The successor to the first ATC-Mk1, the ATC-2 is a leap forward in military transportation. Its armor can withstand an RPG round, mine, and small-arms fire. For defense, it carries two 20mm cannons atop the rear bay doors, as well as next to the driver. If it needs to make a quick getaway, its 1500 hp engines can get it going from 0-60 in 15 seconds. A complementary set of smoke grenade launchers blinds the enemy temporarily to aid in its escape. Top speed in rough terrain is approx. 50 mph, in pavement--70mph.


http://www.digikitten.com/playhousev2/files/LtNathanWest/Scorpion3.jpg
Ramadoon Scorpion Tank
The toughest of the tough, the MT-5 Scorpion Tank brandishes a 120mm turret equipped with a laser targeting system able to keep it aimed at its target--while bouncing around and going at 30 mph. Reloading is fully automated, and crew size has been cut to three--pilot, gunner, and spotter. Its armor consists of polymer-alloy/compound able to withstand multiple hits to the hull, although there have been some instances where it took only one round to destroy the tank, perhaps due to the fact that the technique in creating the platings have not yet been perfected.


[2nd Edit: Pic and description of VTOL transport added]

http://www.digikitten.com/playhousev2/files/LtNathanWest/transport.jpg
The V-34 craft combines the versatility of troop transport, the maneuverability of a fighter jet, and the appearance of a mechanical crab. Able to adapt to different tasks, the V-34 can be used as a convoy escort when equipped with autocannons and missile racks. Without them, it is simply a medevac or transport unit. It's atmospheric ceiling is about 50,000 feet, top speed is mach 3. With additional equipment (O2 tanks, sealant) the aircraft gains the ability to go exoatmospheric.

((OOC: Not to copy Ramadoon or anything, but here's a couple of pictures detailing the President, peace-keeping forces, and scientists of Caligatio. Peace-keeping forces are also from Halo. Scientists are from Half-Life. It's a poor picture, but it's good enough.))

http://www.kzoo.edu/kwtennis/toddmartin.jpg
Caligatio's President Todd M. with Government News Team


http://www.truthandreconciliation.com/pics/halo/coop5.jpg?SSImageQuality=Full
Caligatio Peace-Keeping Forces and Military Transport


http://www.planethalflife.com/half-life/guide/images/scientists.jpg
Caligatio's Lead Epidemic-Experts
From top-left (clockwise): Dr. Kelly, Dr. Anderson, Dr. Burrows, Dr. Winters

5:29 P.M., Local Ramadoon Time
Deep within the underground complex of the Ramadoon Council of War and Defense

"They did WHAT?!" General Dayton's growl rumbled through the military complex, shaking every screw loose in the war room. All this "unexpected" happenings were really getting into his skin.

"Satellites have picked up Caligatioan aircraft in the vicinity of Tirestian borders. Should we order the ion cannons to charge up and fire?" Major Pollack narrowed his eyes, but there was little hint of anger in his expression. It was more of a stone-cold visage common to military men desensitized by war. His superior, however, still had some humanity left in him--as well as diplomacy.

"No. Have a couple of our V-34's painted to look Tirestian. Give them electronic signatures to match their planes too."

"Why?"

"We tell the Caligatioans that everything's under control, and they need'nt invade 'our' airspace."

Pollack nodded, turned and went for the door. Before he could even reach for the knob, Dayton called him back.

"Jerry...Send the vaccine to Caligatio. I don't think we'll be able to contain it there even if we tried..."


6:45 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Somewhere in the border of Tirest, approx. at an altitude of 40,000 feet.

Six V-34's flew in close formation, armed to the teeth with a full complement of 30mm autocannons and air-to-air heat-seeking sidewinders. Each were painted to look authentically like they were Tirestian, down to their air force's insignia and tail numbers. The only way to tell they weren't what they appeared was to radio Tirestian ground control; the only problem was they were already jammed...

They tore through the skies at their top speed to intercept the Caligatioan aircraft. Within minutes, they were flying wing to wing with them, just in time to hear their request to land.

In response, the following reply was broadcasted to the Caligatioan aircraft:
"Negative. Turn towards heading five-zero-niner and we will escort you out of our airspace. We cannot permit you to land, as we are in the process of trying to contain the virus's spread. If you divert from the direction specified, we will be forced to shoot you down. You have 30 seconds to comply."

One slight move towards the wrong direction, and the V-34's would arm their missiles...If they failed, the anti-aircraft batteries set up below would clean up after them.


6 P.M., Local Ramadoon Time
Crystal City Airforce Base

Crystal City was beautiful at sunset. The orange haze of the sun passed through the towering skyscrapers of the city, giving a heavenly glow to the crystal behemoths. Five miles west of it was the airforce base--dark, rugged, minimalistic. A runway, trapezoidal buildings, undecorated. It was a barebones complex that didn't have the unnecessary flair. An unnerving reminder that despite in all of its beauty, both natural and man-made, Ramadoon was a militaristic kingdom at heart.

On the runway were hundreds of V-34's, all outfitted with radar-absorbing paint and light-bending equipment to make them invisible to both man and machine, and being loaded up with the vaccine, dubbed Creon. Their destination? Caligatioan airspace.

((Is this your way of saying this is a closed RP or just part of the story?))

Minutes passed as the military transport, carrying 2000 peace-keeping forces and 10 epidemic scientists, flew cautiously in Tirestian air space.

A sudden broadcast was received in the cockpit of the transport:

"Negative. Turn towards heading five-zero-niner and we will escort you out of our airspace. We cannot permit you to land, as we are in the process of trying to contain the virus's spread. If you divert from the direction specified, we will be forced to shoot you down. You have 30 seconds to comply."

Caligatio's transport wasn't armed well enough to defend itself against attack, and frankly, those flying the craft were baffled by the rejection of the "Tirestian" V-34s.

The captain of the transport, a hardened, but suave military veteran, kept a slow, but steady course, radioing back to the "Tirestians:"

"Caligatio sends additional peace-keeping forces and a team of epidemic scientists to assist in the process of containing, identifying, and removing the disease. Surely, such assistance cannot be turned down in this time of dire need?"

OOC: No, not at all, Caligatio. :D . The more the merrier. I just wanted to pose a tense situation between two, well now three, countries...If you've noticed in the first post I made, this is a covert act that is being carried out under the nose of our government. BTW, Tirest, sorry for ignoring the woman...she will be acknowledged now. Just pretend...she showed up a bit later :lol:

6:45 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Somewhere in the border of Tirest, aprox. at an altitude of 40,000 feet.

Silence was the answer to the Caligatioan ships. The V-34's had surrounded the aircraft now and had target lock on each and every one of them.

"I repeat. Turn back immediately. Ten seconds to comply."

If the Caligatioan ships were able to detect the target locks, they would be beeping incessantly now...


6:45 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Ground Zero

"O fotuna...vita detestabilis...sors imanis... et inanis," sang the infected woman as she trudged toward a pair of Elite Guards. They simply stood there, in shock that she had survived the initial onset of Oedipus.

"Holy $hit...we got a live one."

Having crumpled in front of them, one of the soldiers bent down upon one knee and rolled her corpse over. Her features had all but melted away, leaving behind a red, spongy, texture atop her skull. A ghastly sight indeed.

"No pul--"

Suddenly the lifeless body sprang up and took a hold of his neck. His companion kicked the woman down, pointed his P4A2 at her face, and turned it into Swiss cheese.

But before the latter could evem express his thanks to his buddy, he noticed a strange odor...Something was wrong. Normally, you could only smell the sterile aroma of fresh oxygen. Unless...

"Oh, God...Oh, God, no...." He traced his fingers along the base of his helmet, only to find that a latch had been undone--perhaps during the brief struggle. Within seconds, the other soldier saw blood trickling down his companion's neck. Tink...clink...thump. The melody of armor hitting ground was the music of death.

"MEDIC!!!"

Robert Brookes slowly opened his eyes staring at the dull grey mass in front of him. He was standing on a small brown plank, having frooze halfway across onto the ship. He couldn't do this again, the ride on the Valiant had been hard enough, but the Valiant had been a new, sleek Naval cruiser, this bucket was old, brown rust beginning to leak over it's sides, and it seemed to be listing to one side constantly.

He hadn't spent much time in Port Royal as he thought he would get, the rest of the team had been transported much quicker then had been previously expected. He wasn't supposed to know why, but being quartered in the command quadrant of the Naval Base, there was little rumor he didn't hear. Naval Intelligence had spotted a huge force literally invading a Tirest province, seemingly unknowing to Tirest. This threw a large wrench into the containment backup plans Naval Command at Corregidor had devised, this could lead to an uncalculable and uncontrollable spread of the disease, which could very well usher in a new era of Plague. So everything was rushed now, the government wasting no time to tag the virus and hopefully counteract it, before something like this happened again.

He hadn't received the pay he was supposed to, as the government did not want anyone wandering about Port Royal, as the expedition could not be delayed, any day now the fleet would be assembled in these same waters to embark for a complete encirclement of another nation. So he had spent his days as he had when he was a child, watching the ships come in, some in squadrons, others lonely wandering into the guarded lagoon that held the drydocks.

Given this much time by himself, his thoughts turned to what he had volunteered for, he was going in with a boatload of strangers into a foreign nation, to identify a virus that might just kill them all upon contact, just to earn a credit. If the virus spread, he knew he would not get out, the Federal Navy had made it clear once the blockade was in effect, nothing was getting out, every day he watched his chances for survival continually slip away. But he shoved it all aside, once again focusing on the brown plank beneath him, he felt a slight shove from behind, one of the scientists pushing him forward onto the ship. He looked up from his bent over position to see a man with a rather intimidating scowl looking down on him. Not wanting to get to know this fellow, he pulled himself up and dragged himself aboard the ship, and off he was again, would this routine never end?...


OOC: If your wondering how I could possibly spot your army, have you ever thought of the logistics of supplying 300,000 men, or transporting them, stuff like that is noticed, it requires you to pull a ton of otherwise civilian goods off the market, and procure their transports, which is shown in your economy, and transporting it all there is not easy to cover up.

And indeed, the incessant beeping of the target locks could be heard by the crew of the Caligatioan transport, and though very cliche, the veteran captain was between a rock and a hard place.

If he did not comply with these aircrafts which numbered greatly around him, he would be blown out of the sky. But to return to Caligatio and report that they had been forced out would outrage the President, and though the President was normally a very rational man, when excessively stressed, poor decisions would sometimes be made.

The captain, one Kevin Hadley, ordered the shields up to maximum capacity and the landing gear enabled. He fumbled with the communications radio which connected him back to the homeland....

"Air-Base 17, do you copy?"

~"Yes, we copy."~

"Alert the President to a possible attack on Military Transport A-09. Respond with extreme predjudice on the nation of Tirestia. Over and out."

He quickly shut off the international communication radio, gathered himself, and radioed to the circling V-34s:

"Our course remains constant; Military Transport A-09 will land. An attack on such a transport or its cargo will be avenged with extreme predjudice on the nation of Tirestia, though its condition is already pitiful."

The ten seconds were up. Hadley remained stone-faced, maintaing his course....

OOC: Yes, I am aware that the "expeditionary" force sent out was nothing short of an army, but it is how General Dayton wants it done. The governing body at Ramadoon literally has had the wool pulled over their eyes, thinking it is a routine military exercise. Only some of the top brass at the armed forces are aware of the situation. They want to do everything possible to destroy every trace of the virus, while keeping every other nation in the dark about the fact that the virus can be traced to Ramadoon's biological warfare division. It was only a matter of time until someone spotted the transports. Also, if you are wondering as to how such a large force was procured, I had thought it would be logical to state so as I had passed issues recently concerning a boom in military spending to support our servicemen, which totals almost all of our population (military service is compulsory in Ramadoon, but just because we have many men does not mean each one of them rides shotgun in a tank. Some are paper pushers, others are military scientists, etc.). If there are any other questions about Ramadoon, please feel free to inquire. I will be more than happy to answer them and rectify any mistakes I may have made.

OOC #2: BTW, Sword and Shield. Does your blockade know about the containment field?


8:30 P.M., Local Ramadoon Time
Deep within the underground complex of the Ramadoon Council of War and Defense.

Dayton sat grimly at his desk, ready to face the worsening scenario at Tirest. He had thought the incident would go unnoticed for about a week--that is until he viewed SATCOM reports concerning the blockade set up by The Sword and Shield. At first, he had considered using the newly built orbital cannon to wipe the naval fleet out, but that would quickly arouse suspicions within Parliament...No, he decided to take the diplomatic route again, albeit with a twist...

Immediately after he had relayed his orders, Major Jerry Pollack burst through the office doors with a red folder tucked under his arm. He was panting heavily, his eyes drowned with shock and disbelief.

"Sir...The problem just got worse."


9:24 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Ground Zero

It was official. Oedipus had found a new way to transmit itself. No longer did it have to seep through one's skin in order to infect another--a simple whiff was all it took now. Though it did not spread outside of the dome, you could smell the fear amongst the men. Everyone's nerves were shot...especially after the first casualty. Would the antigen work against this new strain? Nobody knew...But they kept hope. They kept hope that the containment field would not fail.


9:40 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Somewhere off the coast of Tirest, near The Sword and Shield blockade

An unarmed V-34, painted and electronically tagged to be Tirestian, cruised towards the largest ship it could spot. Disguised as a diplomatic envoy, its crew consisted of pilot, "bodyguard", and a "negotiator". Their task was to convince The Sword and Shield's navy to turn back by undoctored files and pictures of the virus, its effects, and what is being done to contain it. Of course, they were given specific orders not to answer any questions that may implicate them as participants in a conspiracy.

Each man knew it would turn out to be a suicide mission if their requests were denied. As to how their demise would come about, all they were aware of was that it would not be through the hands of their captors...

OOC: This post is just a throwback to respond to you Caligatio...so the past two posts I made already transpired.


6:45 P.M.
Central Command, outside the outer perimeter of the containment field.

The quick broadcast was intercepted by ground forces. Command wasn't crazy enough to start a war between Tirest and Caligatio, so they decided It was time to quickly change the decals on every man, vehicle, and equipment back at Italo. "Diplomats" will await at a makeshift airfield 50 miles west of the containment field and stall the Caligatioan delegates until the latter problem was solved.

"Ghost leader, stand down. Do not fire on the Caligatioan vessels. Repeat, do not open fire. Escort them to Alpha outpost."

"Roger that, HQ."

The V-34's resumed an escort position, and relayed the message to the Caligatioan aircraft.

"Permission to land granted. We will escort you to the following following navpoint...inputting them now..."


6:45 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Alpha outpost

Personell scurried to and fro, preparing for the Caligatioan team to arrive. Every nook and crannie was made to appear Tirestian, from the decorative lamps down to the door handles and uniforms. Everything else that couldn't be changed or hidden was transported out of the area. They would have 15 minutes to do all this...plenty of time for the Ramadoon special forces. By the time the envoys would arrive, everything would be in order--fake diplomat and all.

((I'm changing the number of peace-keeping forces and scientists. I don't really want to deal with 2000. So, now, there are only 4 scientists and 300 peace-keeping forces.))

A sigh of relief spread across the entirety of the military transport as it was granted permission to land. Kevin Hadley's life had flashed before his eyes, and now, moments later, he was landing the transport at a nearby airfield where Tirestian diplomats awaited his cargo and him.

The landing process was quite simple and was completed minutes later.

An aged man, in his late 60s, with thinning white hair and a large white mustache called out to one of his colleagues:

"Dr. Winters! Perform an air check on Tirestia. I don't want any of these men to leave before it is completed."

The man called Dr. Winters, a bitter, middle-aged scientist, who had become a scientist solely for its lonesome life, approached a small machine connected to an outlet on the ship. With the press of a few buttons, the check was complete.

"The air is contaminated Dr. Kelly. Standard military masks should prevent any harm though."

With that, the cargo hatches opened. 200 peace-keeping forces emerged, all wearing protective masks, along with the 2 aformentioned scientists. Left on the transport were 2 other scientists, to continually monitor conditions in the country, and 100 peace-keeping forces.

Capt. Kevin Hadley joined those unloading. He was a man of great stature. Though not too incredibly tall, he held himself high, but not with arrogance, more with experience. He, along with the two scientists, Dr. Kelly and Winters, sought out the man in charge of the airfield.

Yeah, see we don't have to worry. We're at DEFCON 5; so no one goes in and no one goes out. We shall send some vaccine, your job to replicate it.

OOC: Caligatio...the virus has been contained to the province of Italo, 50 miles east of where you have landed. No need to worry about catching anything but a cold. Even if it wasn't confined to the perimeter set by the containment field, the standard equipment (i.e. hazmats/gas masks) are penetrable.

7 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Alpha Outpost

Dr. Langley had been pulled out of duty from his outpost within Italy, leaving Petrov to take lead of the scientists there trying to find the original strain of Oedipus. They had literally thrown him into the decontamination chambers and into an awaiting V-34 in order to deal with the Caligatioan scientists. Now, he stood outside on the tarmac, groggy as hell, but still having the energy to seem cheerful.

Langley, wearing no protective gear other than a lab coat to protect him from the occasional breeze, approached the two doctors with a hand eager for a handshake. With a disarming demeanor, the brass thought he was the perfect diplomat...

"Hi, I'm Doctor Thomas Langley, head of the Tirestian Center for Disease and Control. You don't know how glad we are to have you guys around."

Of course, it was an outright lie. 50 miles east, everything had been under control for some time...Or so he thought. Nobody told him on the way that Oedipus became airborne..

Captain Hadley extended his hand and shook the Tiresian doctor's. He had a firm grip and a confident attitude.

"Greetings Doctor Langley. My name is Captain Kevin Hadley, and these two...."

He briefly paused, directing the doctor's attention slightly behind him.

"These two are Doctors Kelly and Winters, the top two epidemic scientists in Caligatio. They've come to offer any assistance needed."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to attend to my men."

The Captain walked away briskly, confident that everything would soon be okay. This was not the end of the dialogue though. Moments later, Dr. Kelly, the aged one, stepped forward to speak with Dr. Langely.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Kelly. I was briefed on the disease before we left. A rare virus indeed. All the research that we have done spells even worse news for Tiresia. For it seems this breed of the virus is far superior to even plague. According to our predictions, it nears its final stage, where it is to become airborn. Hence, the gas masks, though how much protection they will provide is unknown."

"Now, I assume transportation to the main site will be here shortly?"

Langley responded with a heartily laugh.

"Oh I don't know about that Dr. Kelly. It seems we might be stuck here a couple of hours until they can rectify a minor incident. One of the containment field's generators has fizzled, and we won't be able to go near Italo until it's fixed. Until then, allow me to introduce to you Oedipus..."

He presented Dr. Kelly a thick, brown folder, containing some information on the virus. Of course, documents that would raise suspicion about Ramadoon's' involvement were taken out, though they contained little information pertinent to Oedipus.

"It turned up in Italo about two days ago, but it doesn't seem to be native to the region. I wouldn't be surprised if it was brought in by some tainted meat or something." Langley bit his lip and shook his head convincingly.

It was all a rouse--The C-130's crash site was within the containment field, but any trace of it was erased. "Outposts" were built over the area and each piece of wreckage was meticulously put through decontamination and shipped back to Ramadoon, where it would be analyzed to piece together the mystery of its demise.

A look of dismay swept over the faces of Dr. Kelly and Dr. Winters upon learning that they would not, in fact, be taken to Ground Zero.

"You must be joking Dr. Langely. As the top two scientific minds in your neighboring nation of Caligatio, surely any assistance is needed and necessary. We are aware of the contamination risks, Doctor. That is something we are prepared for."

In the background, Captain Hadley was forming his 200 available men into 20 regiments of 10 troops each. Dr. Winters chimed in:

"Sir. We will not be contained here for the duration of this crisis. We come with OBVIOUSLY needed assistance. You, sir, are apparently incapable of handling such a situation, much less diplomatic affairs."

After receiving the "Tirest" diplomats on the Fleet Carrier Scylla, the man in charge of enforcing the blockade, Rear Admiral Richard Allenby, had cordially told them that he did not have the power to withdraw the fleet. But he did assure them that the blockade was not in effect at the moment, things were still being allowed in and out, and that the blockade would not be administered unless the scientific team, which would soon arrive in Tirest, confirmed that the virus was spreading rapidly.

Allenby was satisfied that the virus was being contained in the Italo province, albeit he was a bit unsure over whether or not the Tirest had the ability to actually do this. As he had led the guests off the Scylla he agreed that he would advise the Senate that the blockade did not have to be implemented, but he reminded them that the Senate would take several days to decide, and that even if they decided against implementing it, it did not mean that it would never happen, and a lot hinged on the scientists report.

Of course he knew to keep the guests off the main deck for as long as possible, becuase as he knew better then anyone, the ships allocated to this assignment were hardly enough to blockade a river. The majority of the Navy was currently being deployed in shows of force to allied nations, and shuffled about as new future enemies became more clear. He was making do with only about 9 actual capital ships, the rest of the 245 strong fleet was made up of cargo tenders fitted with light cannons, and a large number of coastal patrol boats that while fast, lacked any form of major force that would deter someone intent on breaking the blockade. He sent repeated requests for ships to Port Royal, where there was a huge force just sitting there as part of that bases Sector Defense Group, but he kept receiving the same responses filled with big words to cover up the fact that the Navy simply didn't think the blockade important enough.

7:05 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Alpha Outpost

The sharp words cut through Langley like a hot knife through butter. He wanted to slug both of them with a swift, lateral punch, but that would just worsen the already tense situation. He kept his cool, but now his merry disposition was replaced with a more serious tone.

"Look, Doctor Winters. We're happy to have you aboard just to speed things up with clean-up. If you're here to insult me as to how I am handling the containment and decontamination of Italo, by all means, leave. We can proceed without any help, albeit in a slower pace."

The radio holstered to Langley's belt cackled to life. *Transports will arrive at 2300, doctor.*

"A four hour wait, due to one of the generators. Sit tight and we'll be there in at 11. In the meantime, food has been prepared in the mess hall. I hope your men will like the taste of our Winthorp Lion steaks..."


10:00 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Within the Scylla

The "diplomat", Lt. Nathan Gerard, perused through the information collected by the V-34--basically threat analysis. It had been downloaded to his PDA moments before they had landed on The Sword and Shield carrier, and what he saw amused him.

Are they kidding?, he thought to himself. Nine armed naval ships, and the rest are clunkers with peashooters welded to their hulls. They wouldn't stand a chance against a squadron of bombers...

He was lucky enough to have been provided a bunk with a porthole, which gave way to the diamond-infused drill he had brought with him. Within minutes, he had a small antenna sticking out of it, transmitting information about the fleet...


10:15 P.M., Local Ramadoon Time
Deep within the underground complex of the Ramadoon Council of War and Defense

General Dayton reviewed his options against the Sword and Shield fleet. Should he use the orbital cannon now to wipe them out before actual reinforcements arrive? No...that would remain a last resort. The EMP charge in the V-34? Bad idea. If communications were be cut off between the fleet and the navy, they might send in the big guns to find out what's wrong. Stick with the plan...stall for time.

Meanwhile, back in Caligatio...

~"Yes, sir. The intelligence is correct. The nation of the Sword and Shield has placed a naval blockade around Tirestia. And sir, reports confirm the presence of the nation of Romadoon in Tirestia, though we are unsure of why."~

The President moved quickly from his desk chair to his office window, allowing a perfect view of the sea and the distant Tirestia. He contemplated the intelligence report carefully, unsure of what to make of it exactly.

"How dare they blockade Tirestia. What business do they have there, except to seemingly cause trouble?"

At this time, he left the room, his aides following him down to his living quarters in the Presidential Hall. Reaching under the luxurious bed, he pulled out a suitcase and a black briefcase. Stuffing the intelligence reports in the briefcase, he made his way to the front door.

~"Sir. What are your plans?"~

"These nations' meddlings with Tirestia is a strange affair. The nation of the Sword and Shield will be dealt with by Tirestia, but the appearance of this Ramadoon is upsetting."

Hopping into a black SUV, armor-plated for security, he said to his aides:

"I travel to Ramadoon to discuss these foreign affairs. Contact Vice-President Bennett. He's in charge for the time being."

The SUV sped off to the international airport located in the north-west of Caligatio, and from there, the President traveled the short distance to Ramadoon air-space.

"Flight 101* requests permission to land."

* ~ Internationally known as the Presidential Flight.

The Councilor dismounts from her litter and makes her way through the train, which parts before her. She ignores the foreign soldiers which push forward, demanding explanations. They're in no poisition to make demands.

She cranes her neck up, and up, and up... taking in the entirity of the containment field. Her hood falls back, revealing her gaunt and ashen features. Her eyes are sunken in their sockets, and her lips are sewn shut with black wire.

She reaches out towards the field, and somewhere in the distance, little bells ring.

____________________________________________________________

"Domitor, the situation grows worse. Enemy nations mobilize against us."

They will be punished.

He must make the decision.

The Domitor's youthful face is blank, his thoughts turned inwards, towards the bickering voices. He listens, he knows what they suspect, what they know. They know what he knows.

"My lord?"

He lifts his gaze to the functionairy with the reams of paper. Reports, all, of the spread of the disease, of the army within Tirest's borders, of the blockade. "The Incarnate knows my will. Dispatch the remainder of the infected."

You will be safe. It is under control.

____________________________________________________________

Real jets from Tirest rise into the skies. White vapor trails mark their passage, high over the distant green landscape. One travels towards Ramadoon, armed with tainted weapons colliloqually known as "the infected".

____________________________________________________________

The disease spreads in the wake of the jets, throughout all the provinces of Tirest. In Italo, slime patches begin forming whereever water stands and stagnates. The annual floods become thickly coated with the muck, prompting hordes of mosquitos and other biting insects.

Every statue in the country begins weeping tears of blood shortly after sunset that day. The great sculptures in Unity Square in Italo quickly become stained and streaked, blood flowing amongst water and slime pools in the square.

OOC: Just a little description of how our government works: it's basically a rip-off of the British parliament, with a Prime Minister taking on the duties of a President, with a Royal Family serving as a symbol of wealth, power, and royalty.

OOC 2: Also, a quick note about the Crystal City Intl. Arpt.: It does not have conventional runways where it is open to the elements. Instead, the airport is a large complex with three interior runways, with large bay doors that open to reveal a single runway large enough to accomodate an An-225 Cossack. Width is about 600 feet, length is 25,000 ft. (The insanely long runway is used to accomodate our space vessels that are Earth-bound, as they need more room to decelerate to a complete stop). Two have a curved platform at the edge of the bay doors---these are used for our space-faring vessels which literally shoot up towards the sky instead of using attached rockets to propel them.

11:25 A.M., Local Ramadoon Time
Crystal City Air/Spaceport

"Tower five to Flight one-oh-one, request granted. Await for bay five to open and you are cleared to land. Welcome to Crystal City, Mr. President..."

Though the operator had nearly frozen stiff upon hearing "one-oh-one" being relayed to him, he kept his composure and followed procedures for the sudden arrival of foreign dignitaries: get the V-34 escorts to assist in landing, phone the Palace and Parliament, call the Royal Guards, and seal off the airport.

Within minutes, the airport was shut down from receiving all international flights. Two Ramadoon V-34's were sent up to fly wingside of the Presidential Aircraft and relieve their escorts.


11:30, Local Ramadoon Time
Prime Minister Hawkins awoke to the sound of his aides barging into his bedroom.

"Bloody hell, haven't any of you heard of knocking?!"

"Sorry to awake you, Mr. Prime Minister, but it's important. The Caligatioan President just landed at Crystal Lake. We're somewhat worried about his impromptu visit, since it only confirms our suspicions that the matter at Tirest is more than just a blockade."

"And his excellency knows of this?"

"He's at Crystal City already..."

Hawkins smiled coyly...King Goethels took his job pretty seriously as a ceremonial king.


11:45 P.M., Local Ramadoon Five
Crystal City Air/Space Port, Bay Five.

The Prime Minister and King stood in front of the plane, anxiously awaiting for the Caligatioan President to exit. The entire Runway had been completely closed off, with Elite Guards guarding every entrance, exit, and catwalk. Not an inch of the of it was left unattended. There was no press, no cameras, nothing. Just guards, the Royal transport module, and the Caligatioan plane.

Upon entering Ramadoon air space, Flight 101 immediately made for Crystal City International Airport. A message was relayed to the crew, directing them to Bay Five.

The bay doors opened slowly as the Caligatioan plane glided in smoothly, thanks to the expert assistance of one of the many veteran pilots that Caligatio had to offer.

The planes' main hatch opened and thrrough a rather unimpressive feat of technology, stairs emerged out of the plane, connecting loudly with the runway. Down them first came the Caligatioan SS, followed by the President, and then more SS. Lastly emerged one office aide, weary and sick from his sudden awakening and quick flight to Ramadoon.

The President dismissed the SS after a quick visual security check, and he and his aide approached the King and Prime Minister of Ramadoon.

"Greetings King Goethels...Prime Minister Hawkins. It seems we all have a great deal of explaining to do."

OOC: Tirest, I am just wondering as to how the virus has spread past the Italo Province...I'm assuming that perhaps it was spread by an Italo resident traveling to other parts of the country and somehow transmitted it, so I will make a post to respond to yours. If you have any objections as to what I write, please respond so we can clear up a few plot holes :D

11:50 P.M., Local Tirestian Time.
200 miles west of the containment field, Omega Outpost, 50 miles from the coast.

The farthest and most desolated outpost, Omega had but a few men and a radar tower. They were simply there to keep an eye on the sky, sea, and air for any incoming Caligatioan unit.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

2nd Lt. Winters rushed to his LIDAR post, only to find a small dot on the screen. Strange, he thought. A Tirestian craft? It was outbound and due west, towards open waters.

A quick check with every scanner the outpost had revealed its intention--Oedipus showed up on the spectral analysis. If they're not dropping it on us...West...what's west? The blockade...and... Winters didn't even finish the thought.

"HQ, come in HQ!"

"This is HQ. Transmit."

"Bogey due west. Mass spectrometers picked up Oedipus on said bogey. Possible target: Ramadoon. ETA: 8 hours."

"Acknowledged Omega. Keep your eyes peeled for anymore."

"HQ, request to be outfitted with self-contained armor."

"They're on the way."


11:50 P.M., Local Ramadoon Time
Crystal City Air/Space Port, Bay Five.

Before a response was even uttered, the general alarm went off, wailing incessantly through every corner of the hangar. The Elite Guards quickly took up their arms, believing the threat to be Caligatioan. In unison, they pointed the barrels of their P4A2's at the SS contingent.

A Ramadoon aide rushed to the side of the Prime Minister. He bowed quickly to Goethels and handed Hawkins a folder emblazoend with the stamp RAF Report in red.

"Your Majesty, Prime Minister, we must get you both to a safe location. We've been warned of a possible biological attack against us."

Prime Minister Hawkins stared at him in disbelief. He stood there, mouth agape, trying to find his words. Finally, they came to him. "Ahh...what kind of a biological attack."

The aide glanced at the Caligatioan President hesitantly, and uttered quietly his response. "Oedipus."

Goethels narrowed his brows, trying to recall the significane of the word. "The play?" he asked.

"No...One of our most potent weapons being developed by the Biological Warfare division of the Council of War and Defense. We have no idea how it's slipped past our hands and into Tirest's."

Months ago, the King had ordered Parliament to dismantle the scientific division of the Council, fearing that a virus may be released into his own kingdom. Now that his worst fears had become a reality, he was furious that his royal decree had gone unheeded.

"James, I specifi--" Goethel's tirade was suddenly cut off by the Prime Minister's.

"Not everything you specify goes, you old bag! The power of the King died with your grandfather!"

There was complete silence in the room. Goethels was utterly speechles, offended by Hawkins's sudden outburst.

Through clenched teeth, the Prime Minister barked out an order to his aide. "Get me General Dayton. He better have a good explanation for this..." He turned to the Caligatioan dignitary. "For security measures, Mr. President, you'll have to follow me. We'll be entering the underground complex under the airport, usually reserved for situations such as this..."


12:00 A.M., Local Tirestian Time
Tirest

All over Tirest, personell, ranging from grease monkeys fixing tank treads, to every foot soldier stationed outside of the containment field, fitted on the Elite Guard's uniforms. The supply had cost the government a bundle to produce, but now they were being doled out to the most common military worker. Better to be safe than sorry...


11:00 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Alpha Outpost

The transports did not arrive, as promised. Instead, a cargo V-34 dropped off hundreds of the Elite Guard armor to be worn by personell in the base. Though there was plenty extra provided for some of the Caligatioans, there still wasn't enough to give out to everyone....

Tirest
Alpha Outpost

The incessant whining of alarms surrounded the outpost and a cargo of unmarked V-34s dropped off elite military outfits, conveniently enough to outfit the Caligatioan dropship.

Hadley, Kelly, and Winters quickly dressed in the appropriate gear and went to task to distribute them to the troops. Haste was the key, and the process took a very short time.

Captain Hadley returned to his position in the cockpit, ordering the troops aboard. The cargo hatches were sealed without the two doctors aboard.

Panicking, Dr. Kelly approached Dr. Langely who appeared distressed in the situation, but not necessarily panicked.

"Where do we go from here Dr. Langely?"

Ramadoon
Crystal City International Airport - Bay Five

The Caligatioan SS responded to the raised barrels with raised barrels of their own, causing an immense standoff. They were quickly relieved by the President with a violent wave of his hand.

He listened intently to the news brought before King Goethels and Prime Minister Hawkins, but the stress was mounting in this situation.

"What is the meaning of this? Who the hell would attack you at this time? Damn it! I want answers!"

All the while, he followed the Prime Minister to the underground complex...their safe-haven.

11:05 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Alpha Outpost

Langley's eyes wandered about, a sign that he was analyzing the current situation. 100 men. About an aditional 300 Caligatioans. 200 suits.

It didn't add up. If the Tirestians had somehow gotten hold of the virus, 100 people would die in the outpost. Unless...

The remaining vehicles had internal oxygen generators. About 4 V-34's on the runway...7 APCs...2 tanks. 12 people per V-34. 7 for each APC. 3 for each tank. That's over a hundred spaces to fill. Maybe everyone did stand a chance if the attack came...

"Dr. Kelly, Dr. Langley. Tell any of your men who has not received a suit to board one of our vehicles. They'll be safe there."


12:00 A.M., Local Ramadoon Time
Crystal City Defense Network, Substation Hub

The mile-long maglev ride to the substation was pretty much shot straight down at a steep 45 degree angle. All the while, the Prime Minister didn't respond to the Caligatioan Presiden't inquiry, and for good reason--he didn't have a clue as to what was happening either.

The train hummed to a stop at the hub, the "brain" of the Crystal City Defense Network. Much like NORAD, the whole country could be pretty much run from there. It was connected to all the military branches, even the ones being used in the "exercise" at Tirest.

A holographic topographical map of Tirest was being displayed on the lower level of the hub, and the top strategists were huddled there--amongst them was General Dayton.

http://www.digikitten.com/playhousev2/files/LtNathanWest/Complex.jpg

The Prime Minister shouted down at him from one of the elevated control panels. "Dayton! What the hell is going on here? I've got reports that Tirest is in possession of Oedipus, which happens to be your pet project! Now tell me...why...how did the Tirestians get a hold of it!"

Silence.

"Answer me, Goddammit!"

This is the only way out, Dayton thought to himself.

Marching footsteps emanated from the other substations, and within seconds, the Prime Minister, the King, the Caligatioan dignitary, and his SS were surrounded by--the supposedly loyal--Elite Guards. Every entrance was blocked, and every guard had their sights trained on the general vicinity of the Ramadoonian leaders.

"No. You're going to answer to me."

"For King and country!" Shouted the still loyal group that surrounded the leaders. But before any of them could even raise their rifles to aim, a barrage of shots boomed through the complex, leaving the loyalists scattered about the feet of the King each having a cauterized wound to the head. They had no chance but to surrender. If the SS had something up their sleeves, they better draw the card now...


OOC: Great plot twist eh? :lol: Forgive any typos. It's late and I hastened to write up a post.

((Sorry for the telegram about the "missing" topic. I honestly couldn't find it, heh. And, yeah, nice plot twist indeed.))

Tirestia
Alpha Outpost

Heeding the words of Doctor Langely, doctors Kelly and Winters immediately ordered all the crew that had the misfortune of not boarding the Caligatioan transport, into any of the available "Tirestian" vehicles.

Dr. Kelly and Winters followed the small amount of troops that heeded the command into one of the few vehicles, also occupied by Dr. Langely. From there, their discussion would continue. Safety first, they had been taught in grade-school.

"The situation grows worse and worse every minute. What can possibly be done to stop it?" (Dr. Kelly)

Ramadoon
Crystal City Defense Department

During the mile trek to the underground bunker, thoughts swirled through the mind of the Caligatioan President. His family, his friends, his country...would they soon be under attack also? God forbid...

He followed the King and the Prime Minister into the complex, vast and technologically superior to anything he had ever seen. It far surpassed the secret chambers of Caligatio's War Department.

But, in a short moments time, the President's awe was turned into horror, as the Elite Guards of Ramadoon, under command of this mysterious General Dayton, surrounded the envoy, executing the few guards that still protected the King and the Prime Minister.

Sensing the insanity of it all, the President barked a quick command to his loyal SS to drop their weapons. They would no longer be of use. They were severely outnumbered.

Maintaining his composure, the Caligatioan President stepped forward, addressing the one they called General Dayton:

"As President of Confederacy of Caligatio, friend of Tirestia, and ally to Ramadoon, I demand to know the meaning of this treachery."

Caligatio
Congressional Hall

Vice President Bennett, a larger man who fit the modern-day description of a conservative Republican very well, paced up and down the halls of the large building deemed Congressional Hall. He was accompanied by the wife and kids of President Todd M. All were silent, each left to their own thoughts.

The silence was abruptly shattered as a Presidential aide came flying down the hallway, file in hand. He handed it to the Vice President, whose face became unusually perturbed.

"My God..."

"Alert the Security Department. Declare a state of national crisis. Distribute the gas masks. Do it now!"

The aide went flying back down the hall as the Vice-President quickly rounded up the President's wife and children, leading them into the Presidential Quarters where he opened up a very inconspicuous secret passage. They traversed down a tunnel for approximately a mile into a large, stone complex, filled with equipment serving every purpose. It was populated by a team of about 100 government workers and 20 security guards.

~"Quickly Mr. Vice-President."~

A guard led the group of 5 into a small chamber, fitted to be like a luxrious and comfortable make-shift living quarter.

Outside Congressional Hall, panic ensued amongst the general populace as the citizens rushed to get their hands on the protective masks. Caligatio's army kept the affair under control as best possible, as it had already been deployed on the streets. Citizens were directed to the nearest community center, littered around every city in the nation, or to their own homes or friends' house. It was orderly panic if there ever was...

"Has any contact been made with the President?"

~"No, Vice President Bennett. All communications were cut off with Flight 101 upon their entry into Bay Five of Ramadoon. However, Tirestian planes have been spotted making their way towards Ramadoon, and the country is in a state of emergency, sir."~

"This is madness. We should have never gotten involved with that damned country!"

11:10 P.M., Local Tirestian Time
Alpha Outpost

Langley sat across Dr. Kelly, again aloof in his thinking...

"What...? Oh..."

He paused. Should he do the right thing and tell the Caligatioans what was really going on? That would mean death...Dayton said it himself. "Any man who releases information to the Tirestians, let alone any army that happens to be there, will be tried to the fullest extent for treason and hanged in Parliament Square."

But millions of lives depended on the truth. The Tirestians should not suffer for the military blunder of one man.

"Dr. Kelly, we are not who you have been led to believe we are..." he paused again, trying to find a way to explain the current situation in Tirest. "We are Ramadoonian. About sixty-two hours ago, one of our military transports was flying over the Tirestian airspace, carrying Oedipus. Why it had the virus, I don't know. All I have been informed of was that it crashed near the Italo Province in the forests surrounding a small village. At first, we had thought that the virus was only within the containment field...For reasons still left unanswered, the Tirestians have somehow gotten their hands on an airborne version of the pathogen..."

The APC driver turned to Langley sporting the most grim and serious expression he had ever seen. "Doc...We have reports that the Tirestians are planning to give Ramadoon a taste of its own medicine..."


12:10 A.M., Local Ramadoon Time
Crystal City Defense Network, Substation Hub

Dayton brushed past the Caligatioan President with a stiff shoulder, almost knocking the dignitary down to his rear end. He approached the Prime Minister and King, both with fire burning in their eyes.

Dayton spoke. "There's been a change of plans, gentlemen. It seems I have appointed myself the new leader of this government, and none of your other generals seem to have objected. I am hopeful that you will comply, as well."

The King, with the regality surpassing his his mere ceremonial title, spoke with a pleading heart to all the Elite Guards. "Soldiers. Countrymen. Brothers. Whenever your country has called for your service, you answered it without hesitation. The 50 Days' War. The War of the Provinces. And now, the personal war between the general and your king. I know your hearts are still true to your nation. She has always given you the best of what the world has to offer and has never asked for anything in return but your loyalty. Today, she tests you."

The Elite Guards took the words to heart, and proceeded to talk amongst themselves. Their sights shifted back and forth between Dayton and Goethels...king and country, or general and the spoils of war?

"Save me the speech and go to hell." Dayton drew a gun and shot him point-blank.

*PAK, PAK, PAK* Blood splattered to those near the carnage, which included PM Hawkins and the General. The King paused to touch his abdomen, staining his hands with the colors of bile and crimson. He weakly lunged at Dayton, streaking his blood across his cheek and down his shirt.

Furious rage coarsed through the hearts of every man standing in the room. Goethels was an honorable man, always tending to his people and standing up for justice in the face of his opponents. Though he was never in direct control, he influenced social policies for the better, turning Ramadoon into one of the most prosperous nations in the region of Yorkshire. Now, one push was all it would take to convince them to do the right thing...

"He has spilled the blood of your king! This man...This...monster! He has committed the high crime of--"

Dayton cut him off, barking at him through clenched teeth. "If you want to stay alive..."

But Hawkins ignored his threat "Of regicide! The punishment is death! Yet you do nothing! Your country weeps for you on this day!"

"Pure rhetoric..." Dayton yelled. "You Politicians and your words."

He continued. ''Who has always ensured that you men had the best equipment against your foes? Who has always done his best to keep you all from being sent to your deaths in a trivial war we have no business fighting?!"

Before Dayton could even take aim at the Prime Minister, the lone crack of a P4A2 exploded in the distance, near the rafters. A millisecond later, the General was on the floor, blood oozing out the side of his head.

The collective voice of the Elite Guards spoke. "For King...and country."


6:00 A.M., Local Ramadoon Time
RNN News

"We interrupt your local news feed to bring you this special report. Government officials have declared a national emergency in the eastern coast of Ramadoon. Citizens are being advised to report to the nearest military substation for their own safety. We now go to Cindy Walker, live at Crystal City."

A reporter wearing a civilian version of the Elite Guard's hazmat armor speaks in front of the camera, amidst a sea of cars in the street leading towards a maglev. The soft "hums" of the maglev trains from each of the 24 substations scattered throughout the city could be heard in the background.

"Good morning, John. As you can see behind me, there is a massive exodus out of the neighboring towns and into Crystal City. Thousands upon thousands are blocking up the major highways, all desperately trying to get to the substations scattered about the city. The government, so far, has been tight-lipped over why they are instructing civilians to seek shelter, but an inside source has informed me that a pathogen native to Tirest may soon reach our borders. I see an Elite Guard nearby. Perhaps we can learn more about the situation from him."

In the background, an Elite Guard can be seen directing cars to special maglevs able to ferry them. Others can be seen patrolling the block, watching out for any looters or vandals. Cindy approaches the one of them, mic in hand.

"Excuse me...Lieutenant...Sutton. Can you confirm reports of a Tirestian biological attack?"

"No, ma'am, I cannot. But I can assure you, the Prime Minister is doing his best to protect the citizens of Ramadoon."

"And what of the King? Has the Royal Family moved to a substation as well?"

"The King..." Sutton had seen him slain hours ago. He should know...He was the mystery soldier who had turned the tables against Dayton. "I don't know of the king. I'm sure he and the Royal Family are safe."

At the same time, engineer corps were raising portable generators on the outlying sectors in order to set up a containment field. It would be hastily built, yes, but as long as it was only a biological attack, they would hold...If not, anyone who was unfortunate enough to be outside the substations without the proper gear would be infected...