NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC:
OOC Thread is here:
http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=340394
Please use that thread for OOC banter, as well as requests for entrance.

Mare Crisium is latin for 'Sea of Crisis'.
IC:

Poseidon Naval Complex
Poseidon, NEOS

The massive artificial islands sat over an undersea ridge, huge complexes home to thousands of people, billions in weapons, and a triumph of engineering. The huge expanses of floating complexes covered dozens of square miles, roughly hexagonal in pattern, connected by undersea monorails, and constructed to exploit the oil and natural resources found in the waters south of New Empire. In a way, man was returning to the sea.

And wherever man went, his weapons were soon to follow. Forming a large hexagon, cornered by artificial islands was the Poseidon Naval Complex, the 'Battle Islands' seen in pop science magazines taken to extremes. The large area was used for shipbuilding, logistics, airfields for the Air Force, a splashdown area for spacecraft, and weapons testing. It was rumored that a pair of Doujin class vessels might be built in one of PNC's massive shipyards.

Poseidon was one of three other complexes designed to defend the bounties of the Oceanic States from their enemies. The area sat next to shipping lanes for the SynTrol Petroleum Company, among others. Electronic beacons were supposed to keep ships in line, and out of the highly restricted PNC Secure Zone. Suicide boat attacks by anti-ocean colonization protestors had ensured that.

But to the crews of the Navy ships, the PNC personnel, and the other citizens of the Oceanics, there was one thing that was creating more fears in their minds.

"You're watching NENN, New Empire's choice for news reporting."

The phrase and familiar theme music blared from the LCD screen that sat in an officer's mess in the PNC. Tonight, the messes of the complex were a bit more crowded than usual as the smells of Black Angus steak wafted through the meticoulously clean halls. Lieutenant Tomlinson, of the 844th Subsurface Strike Wing, licked his lips as his knifle sliced through the pinkish meat, his eyes darting between his meal and the television.

The government continued to issue storm warnings to the Point Dasch State and the NEOS as the storm dubbed 'Alexa' continues on it's way north towards the Oceanic States. Citizens are told to stay inside and avoid sea travel until the storm has passed. Several among the technical community have suggested that the NEOS and ships in it will be at particular risk because of their location in warmer seas. In other news..."

"Gonna be some pretty bad shit tonight, eh?"

Lieutenant Obers was another 844th officer, a bit new to the unit. As he finished his sentence, he squirted some A-1 onto his meat and began cutting into it.

"Yeah," remarked Tomlinson with a sort of bored tone, "We're still going out for patrols tonight. Say that patrol depth is good enough to keep safe."

"We running shepherd duty at the Civ Lanes again?"

"No, the Secure Zone. I think Kuler's squadron is gonna be handling that."

"Ah."

Outside the array of the massive high tech platorms, the storm was brewing. Little did they know the nature of the new storm it would create.

[tag]

OOC: I feel all giddy.

Aboard the KCS Benzene
Captain Mark Dubois peered out at the horizon between the sea and the sky through the thick windows of the tanker bridge. He had a large figure with an old, experienced, confident face. His grayed hair and his protruding gut showed he was aging, though.

Krimson Corporation had recently set up a fledgeling agreement with SynTrol Petroleum Company. SAVX had no oil reserves of its own except for a few scattered plots out in the ocean, so when news of SynTrol's more recent oil discoveries had broken out, Krimson was quick to beat Syntec to the punch.

Dubois commanded the first official run, and he was expecting a bright future if this agreement really took off. Perhaps a raise, or even a promotion. He was a damned good captain, and the executives in Krimson's Black Gold division knew it. He had the smarts to increase productivity with the proper cards, and the cards were showing themselves. Well, whatever was to happen, he was out on the sea where be belonged.

The ship had recieved its oil, SynTrol had recieved its payment, and he was heading home towards his own payment.

"Captain? Weather update." A younger male walked into the bridge. He was uncertain about himself, as this was one of his first voyages. Relatively short as it was, there remained a few weeks ahead of them. A few weeks without land or home.

"Let's hear it."

"Storm 'Alexa' is headed right towards our travel line. It's due to intercept New Empire's Poseidon site in the mid-to-late evening, around 8 or 9."

"Is it a problem for us?"

"The navigatator suggests that we'll be close, if not at, that point at the same time if we keep up this speed."

"Hmm..." Dubois couldn't stop the ship or turn around. If he had any hope of showing the Krimson high-ups that he was more than capable of a higher position, he would need to keep going. He had one other option at hand.

"Full speed. We'll try to beat it."

"Sir?" The younger male felt unsure about such a manuever, and he looked it.

"You heard me. Full speed. Don't question my orders."

"...Aye, aye, Captain."

[tag]

Day slowly turned to afternoon. The winds and waves were beginning to pick up, but the dark storm clouds remained nothing more than a distant sight. The so-called Poseidon Battle Island had seemed to slowly creep towards the KCS Benzene from the horizon as the sky darkened. However, as dusk took over the sky, the first drops of rain were felt. One of the officers in the bridge turned to Dubois.

"Captain, the storm will soon be upon us."

"I know. Don't worry. This ship is a hardy old girl. She can take anything nature may try to dish out."

"I hope so."

"She will."

In another few minutes, however, the sky turned black as the boiling clouds encroached to all ends of the heavens. Waves began to pick up and rain pelted down in heavy sheets in no time. Lightning flashed in small, frequent pockets. The ship began to rock heavily as the waves continued to grow.

"Captain, this is no ordinary storm."

"We'll make it."

"Captain, I beg of you, at least let us contact the Poseidon base. We can try to take some refuge there if they let us."

"Shut up, God dammit! I'll make the decisions without your cowardly blubbering!"

The man stopped talking, as he was powerless to do any more without being potentially called for mutiny. He prayed silently to his God. Dubois, meanwhile, gritted his teeth and held onto an instrument panel for stability. The rocking of the ship was reaching angles of up to 45 degrees, and it only looked like things would get worse. Loose objects began to tumble and skid across the floor with the rocking. Dubois stared straight ahead into the rolling sea, battling out his limited options in his mind. After seemingly hours, he bellowed to his officers.

"Contact Poseidon. Ask for assistance."

"Aye, aye!"

A comm officer picked up a radio and set it to a public frequency.

"Mayday, mayday! This is KCS Benzene of SAVX! We need assistance immediately! Repeat, this is KCS Benzene of SAVX! We need assistance immediately! Do you copy?"

Waves slammed over the seawalls of the Poseidon Naval Complex, as the men of Tomlinson's squadron ran to their craft. The craft were on scaffolds and cranes, looking like manta rays in design. They were S-22 Eagle Rays, an innovation of the UCSNE for ASW/ASuW missions. Instead of employing larger submarines for patrolling the subsurface mines and artificial islands, a design that was basically an underwater airplane was invented called the subfighter, and were aptly named. The eight crew members of the 4 boat squadron scrambled in, donning armored 'wetsuits' that were practically small submarines in themselves. Once the pilots were in place, the cranes and scaffolding lowered them into the 'wetbay' that would shelter them from the rest of the stormy ocean. The subfighters engaged their waterjets, and raced towards the contact. It was heading at a very high speed towards the PNC, and as they entered the thick of the storm. Many had memories of the hijacked fishing trawler full of HMX slamming into an oil rig on national television, and they were determined not to repeat the mistake. The sleek looking aicraft raced at 80 knots to the surface, their odd looking noses rising in the water. Possible radio signals, heavily distorted by the storm, were registering, and they realized just how close the tanker was to the PNC. Now Tomlinson understood why the vessel couldn't be detected: The storm was that bad, that the hydrophones and radar systems were only picking her up at such a short range.

"Unidentified vessel, this is the New Empire Navy. You are entering a restricted area. Identify yourself!"

Tomlinson was now going through every possibility. Were they lost? Were they looking for a safe haven? Was it a trap, luring rescue vessels to them, or were they using the storm to hide them for a suicide run?

Tomlinson shuddered a bit as the storm intensified, lighting reaching down like the fingers of God.

TAG
I'll post later tonght, when I have time.

"I'm not getting any responses, Captain!"

"Keep trying, dammit!"

Dubois was now holding on for dear life as the waves threw the tanker around like a dog throws around a chewtoy. The radio cackled as it recieved something.

"Captain, I think someone's trying to send us a transmission...God, it's this storm, sir...I can't make out anything. It's just static and some garbled sounds."

"Well, try to hail them once more. If we get no response, we'll keep heading towards them and hope for the best."

A rain-soaked sailor burst into the room, stumbling around like a drunk as he tried to retain a hold of some sort on the ever-tilting floor.

"Captain! We're taking in water! The waves are too high!"

"Dammit, I know! Pump it! Get rid of it! DO SOMETHING!"

The man just nodded dumbly and stumbled back out.

"Hurry..."

Near the Poseidon Installation

The CNSS-575 Qingdao was the newest hydrogen-fuelled submarine commissioned by the Five Civilized Nations Navy of the Wuhan Class. A powerful warship capable of going toe-to-toe with any nuclear submarine and as silent and stealthy as any diesel submarine, the Qingdao could potentially outclass any other submarine afloat.

Today however, the Qingdao was not attempting to outclass any other submarines. Instead it was merely undergoing its second series of sea trials, involving a circumnavigation of the world.

The watch officer of the night shift was exhausted. The extended sea trials that almost every single Five Civilized Nations warship underwent was meant to test the limits of both the vessel and its crews. This round of sea trials were no different.

As the officer stood quietly on the command room of the submarine, watching over the night-watch crew, his thoughts began to turn back to home.

Before his thoughts could wander far, the sonar technicians called out a bearing. "Lieutenant Harper, I'm picking up some scattered readings on a bearing of 0950, range about 12000 meters... Its very faint. At least four submerged contacts and one surface one, sir. But there's something strange, the submerged contacts are too small to be submarines... Sir, something is wrong..."

"Damn't..." the night watch officer replied, as he looked on the display, "We need to get the captain up...

A few minutes later, a disheveled, but grizzled man appeared in the control room, his face also displaying the exhaustion evident in everyone on the boat. His name was Captain Zhong De, the younger brother of the Five Civilized Nations Foreign Minister, Zhong Da.

"What have we got?" the captain queried as he gratefully sipped the coffee given him by the night watch officer.

"Sir, we have several contacts about 12 kilometers away, several submerged ones... Problem is sir, they're too small to be submarines..." replied Lieutenant Harper.

"They are..." stated the captain simply, "Research has been going on about building subfighters... It seems like someone probably has succeeded..."

"Subfighters!?!"

"Yes..." said the captain as he walked over to the laid out charts. As he began to pore over the charts, the captain frowned. "We're near New Empire's Poseidon facility... Interesting..."

Turning to the night watch officer, the captain began to bark out orders, "I want silent battle stations. We're going in to investigate."

"Aye, sir."

Slowly, the CNSS-575 Qingdao slowly approached the New Empire Poseidon installation...

[Tag]

OOC: FCN, if you want to observe, that's OK. But let's not rush things.
IC:

The massive vessel continued to smash through the waves, but the roiling sea and thick rain obscured her profile, flashes of lightning occasionally rewarding a better view. Tomlinson took a deep breath, and turned on the radio again.

"Unidentified vessel, you are entering a restricted area, turn around or we will fire on you!"

His WSO began praying, and Tomlinson glanced at the weapons readout. Things weren't looking good.

"Just what the hell is going on out there?"

Commander O'Reilly sat in the CIC, watching the numerous screens in the room as they spewed information. The one he focused on showed the unknown ship closing, far too fast for his liking. He listened to the chatter, but could hear only the voices of his men. He wondered how many crew it had, what it was carrying. If his actions would be justified.

OOC: I suppose I'll be the one who suffers an aircraft shootdown, then?

IC:


High above the rapidly-degenerating situation, someone was observing the growing tension.

Xi-C8-148 tore through the storm, slipping easily through the air with a fluid grace. Observing the event with growing concern in a variety of sensory spectra, it radioed a report home to the central factory mind.

<translated from Language 10>

"Unknown human watercraft are converging in sector 18-Gamma-224.9x881.6. Will continue to monitor and report as events transpire. Xi-C8-148, over and out."

The recon plane chassis dipped lower, confident in it's stealth profiling. It was critical that detailed information be obtained about Gamma-12's human neighbors...

OOC: It would show up clearly on radar at this point.

OOC: No, the aircraft shootdown comes with the blockade. And I think Artista said it would be his, since your side is doing the blockading.

TAG/ a friendly little BUMP

"Captain, I'm not getting anything clear out of this storm. It's fucking up the transmissions too much."

"God damn...well, keep trying."

"Captain, I think I see a shore of Poseidon. It's getting damn close, sir."

"How close?"

"Uh...oh, shit..."

"What is it?!"

"Captain, we've gotta turn and slow down now or we're gonna hit it."

The KCS Benzene plowed forward through the waves as the crew of the boat desperately tried to avoid collision with the land mass. They had no idea that others had a much more permanent means of stopping them in store.

The man made island was wound tight, bracing for impact, and preparing for boarding, and when the ship didn't respond, the order was snapped out.

"Destroy it."

Shit!

Tomlinson couldn't miss. The ship loomed huge, and at such a close range, even in a storm, the fiberoptically guided weapon would be able to get targeting data from the subfighter's sensors.

"Obers, take it out."

He could hear his WSO's heavy breathing as the display showing four of the Eagle Ray's supercavitating torpedo arm, turning orange, and then red as the weapons splashed into the water. As the torpedo hit, a hydrogen-mix rocket engaged, and the nosecone began heating up and dispensing oxygen to form the supercavity bubble around the weapon. The torpedoes leapt to 450 knots, each carrying dozens of pounds of Thermium Nitrate high explosives.

As the four weapons traveled, Tomlinson ordered all vessels to dive. If the tanker was loaded, things were about to get messy.

General Zayku stood up, and began pacing. He looked once mroe at the memo delivered to him, and sighed. He picked up the phone once more and and dialed the Commandant of National Security. "Sir?" He asked, voice out of breath. A thick, spanish accent came back. "Yes, Zayku?" Zayku gulped. "Sir, mobilize the divisions. Our forces need to be raised."

Private Thomas Bouille sat down, and wolfed down his ration bar. "This stuff tastes like shit." He yelled, spitting at the ground. A higher-up walked past and grinned, showing off his back of steming chicken. Thomas shot up. "Hey, give me some!" He yelled, wiping the sweat of his forehead. The man turned, smiled again, and then opened his mouth. "No." And walked off. Thomas then heard the siren go off. He grabbed his gun and pack and ran out into line. The Commandant of Fort Alejandro walked sullenly. "Men, a problem has arised, of which I have not been fully informed. However, war may be upon us if anything else happens. We will haul out in 0800 hours." "YES SIR" The group chanted, and walked back to the sheep shacks.

(OOC: Lethislavania, kindly delete your post above due to the fact that nobody knows yet that the supertanker was destroyed.)

IC:

"What the hell!?!" shouted the sonar technician excitedly as he listened to and watched the display. Turning around he addressed Captain Zhong De, "Captain, I have at least three torpedoes bearing 1135, distance 5730 meters... Holy crap... Sir, they're heading towards a big ass vessel, probably a supertanker..."

"The hell!?! What in blazes is going on here!?!"

OOC: Actually, this calling of the troops has nothing to do with the tanker, it involves another situation within my country.

IC: Chancellor Alejandro sat in his desk, taking a long drag on his cigar. His phone buzzed once and he pciked up. "Yes?" He questioned in his thick, gravely spanish accent. "Sir, the Leader of IN is here." The good Chencellor looked towards the ground, sighed, and spoke. "Let him in."

Grazyus smiled at the attendent as he walked down the hall of the Chancellors building, looking at the many impressionist pictures on the wall - all by the Chancellor himself. Thinking of the Chancellor's policies made him gag, and his smile quickly turned into a frown, and he threw open the door of the Chancellor's office. "How dare you - We did nothing wrong!" He yelled, spit flying from his mouth, face turning red. Alejamdro looked up. "Hello, Grazyus. Sit down, please." The flustered man pulled over a chair and sat, staring at the ground. "Would you like a cigar?" Alejandro asked. Grayzus shook his head. "No." Alejandro stood up, and smiled. "So, what did I do wrong this time?" He implored, grinning at himself in the mirror on his wall. Grayzus coughed, and looked towards himself. "Sir, you blocked our party from the elece-" Alejandro looked at him sternly. "Only because you had four puppet parties, had killed off three people who were running, and had smuggle thousand of dollars into your campaign. It wasn't fair." He pressed the speaker box. "Security, be on alert incase Mister Grayzus here tries anything." He looked at Grayzus once more. "Now, explain to me why there is a force of 10,000 inhabiting some of our villages."

Can we hurry it up? I really want to join in and there hasn't been a post directly involving the storyline for a while.

OOC: Sorry, I've been really busy the past few days. I should be able to post something tomorrow.

The torpedoes rocked the ship, tearing giant holes in the hull. It began to split in multiple places as the storm continued to pull and push it from all directions. Captain Dubois barely knew what happened before the bow where the bridge was located tore was separated from the rest of the ship and began to rapidly sink. Oil from the containment wells had leaked and caught fire from the later explosions and began to spill out into the ocean, creating a vast field of flame in the midst of the maelstrom.

Dubois sank to his knees in exhasperation just before the water pressure broke through the windows and flooded the bridge. He went down with his ship, and damned fast at that.

OOC: Going to speed up a bit just to keep this moving. You can do the same.

A FEW WEEKS LATER...

Krimson: Black Gold Divisional HQ, Redding, SAVX

President Nikal Mylosi looked at the report. Dubois was late...very late. Five days late, in fact. He hadn't bothered to look into the matter until now, when the chairmen began to make a racket at the lost supplies and dropping stock price. Well, it was very unlike the punctual man to not only be late, but to not report it. Something was awry. He punched a button on his desk.

"Sally, get me a complete record of the transmissions from KCS Benzene in the past month."

"Yes, Mr. Mylosi."

"Oh, and...get me a drink while you're at it. Something strong."

He took his hand off the button and leaned back, propping his feet up on the desk. He looked at the report again. "We're looking at millions of dollars in losses of capital, resources, and stock..." He rubbed his eyes. This was not going to be fun to wade through. Well, he'd probably get it spread to his underlings soon enough...

"Mr. Mylosi? I have the records. And your drink."

"Thank you, dear."

He took a good look at his secretary. She was amazingly sexy. He'd have to get her in bed again. She walked over and handed him his requested materials. He gulped the drink down in one hit. "Ah, scotch."

"Good choice." He grinned up at her.

"Thank you, sir."

"Say, if you're not busy tonight..."

She blushed and glanced around nervously.

"Maybe, sir."

"Alright. Good girl. That's all."

She nodded stiffly and walked out quickly. "I still have yet to break her. Ah, well..." He looked at the records towards the most recent transcribed transmissions.

"Garbled junk...more garbled junk...potential distress signal? Huh...I wish I knew what this naval junk meant."

He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Yeah, this is Mylosi. Good, you? Good. Hey, do me a favor...I need someone in your office to tell me what the hell's wrong with the KCS Benzene. I'll fax the transcription of its transmissions to you. Have someone check out where it could've been and what might've gone wrong, ok? Good. Thanks."

He hung up the phone, then slipped the sheet into the fax on his desk, then punched in a few command codes. He sat back and waited for a good twenty minutes, pondering how the hell he was going to handle the losses without losing his own job...it wasn't going to be easy.

Finally, he got a response on his PC.

--NEW EMAIL RECIEVED--


From: seadogbigdog@krismon.BG.vx
To: oilTycoon@krimson.BG.vx

Hey, Nikal.
Here's what we can tell from the data we have.
It looks like the ship might've gone down around the New Empire "Poseidon" Battle Island.
A major storm hit right about the time that the Benzene was near there, so it probably went down because of that.
I'd look into it, if I were you, though.
Always want a full report for those rabid sharks at the conference room, eh?

PS: Be wary...

He slowly nodded. It made sense. Still...one could never be sure. Krimson had enemies, thanks to its not-so-friendly policies in certain aspects of the corporation...well, it would be looked into right away. He picked up the phone again and dialed another number.

"Nicholas? Hey. Yeah. Look, I need the, uh...New Empire "Poseidon" Battle Island checked out. Yeah. Use the subs. Look for signs of Benzene. Yeah. Hey, I don't know. Use your best judgement. Ok. Good."

He hung up. For now, the matter was out of his hands.

Ooc: #tag#

OOC: Okay, since apparently my aircraft won't be shot down, I'll assume that, in the confusion, it was able to slip past the radar undetected and report on the situation.

IC:

The factory minds of Gamma-12 met with the Council.

Panic was palpable, in the garbled radio transmissions, the patterns of activity, the furtive, restless behavior of the machine people present.

Sayidh bin-Moammar, adjunct to the council, was oblivious to the tension. Though he knew the machine people of Gamma-12 claimed to have emotions, he had not the faintest idea how to interpret them. For their part, the machines were experts at reading the physical signs of human emotion but had trouble empathizing with these strange, meaty creatures, an unknown group of which had surely been their creators at some point in the distant past (there being no known way for the factories from which Gamma-12 had sprung forth to assemble themselves).

Man and machine had a long way to go in understanding each other.

Indeed, this was why Sayidh had been appointed to his position. He was recognized by the other humans as a brilliant politician and sociologist, and understood his people far better than the ruling minds of Gamma-12 had yet been able to. His expertise was valuable, but more than that--he was one of a minority of humans who had been willing and able to live and work among the machines, rather than merely within their borders. His opinions on human interaction were held in highest regard, and his handling of the recent terrorist action (which failed abysmally, ostensibly due to Gamma-12's peerless internal security but more accurately due to Sayidh's prediction of fomenting dissension in a certain human-occupied region) had won him the grudging respect and even trust of some of the more paranoid council members.

The machines desperately needed to understand what they were seeing. Sayidh was their expert on all things human.

A television screen provided a photo-enhanced view of the event. A large ocean-going vessel slowly approached a cluster of artificial islands.

"This event was observed mere days ago. All of the objects are of human manufacture."

The vessel continued, seemingly oblivious to the other structures.

"During this time, a heavy storm covered the region. Our aircraft had been sent to study both the storm and the island chain it had recently discovered."

The vessel continued.

"Here, you will see what disturbs us most."

Explosions. The ship rocked as blasts erupted across it's hull. The massive vessel sank in short order.

The screen switched off and a spidery-looking chassis turned it's eyes toward Sayidh.

"We can find no reasonable explanation for this attack. The ship committed no hostile action."

Eyes, ears and sensors less describable swivelled toward Sayidh meaningfully.

"Tell us, Sayidh...why did the owner of the islands open fire on a non-hostile passerby?"

"It's hard to say. Perhaps there was a territorial dispute. Or maybe the owners of the islands intended for the location to remain hidden."

Instantly there was a furor of mechanical activity as the machines conferred. When they had finished, two frightening data had been extracted and processed by the factory minds:

1. Humans will strike first, and lethally, over territorial matters.

2. Humans will kill to defend a secret.

At last the spidery chassis returned it's impassive gaze to Sayidh.

"This concerns us very much."

A larger, powerfully-built model, with lines and strength suggestive of a bear, spoke next.

"This event occured in close proximity to our nation. It is possible we will soon be discovered by the world at large. It is also possible we will soon find it necessary to defend our people and our resources from a hostile human power. We will need your help with the political and diplomatic front...as well as an understanding of what and who it is we may face. Will you help us?"

"You have given my people a home when we fled", said Sayidh, "and you have helped even those who refused to join with your society. I owe you a great debt...and I will be happy to repay it by defending our new home."

OOC: It would be best if someone on my side DISCOVERED Gamma-12 while scouting for enemy presence, made contact, and then drafted me in.

[Earlier]

Fuck. Fuck it all.

The subfighters weaved through the huge 'pontoons' of the artificial islands, and then floated into the wetbay. The crews were exhausted, scared, and worried. They half expected to get their asses chewed out, and they wanted to do the same to their CO.

Poor bastards didn't have a chance. They were far within the 12 mile limit, probably didn't even know they were.

The crews spoke little for the duration of the next few weeks, outside of debriefing rooms.

Current Day

There were no survivors. Investigators had shooed off seabirds as they plucked roasted meat from the waves. But it was over now. Whatever cargo the ship had been carrying, it had been vaporized. It was most likely oil, and now was the hard part.

The announcement had been made to all governments trading with the UCSNE that an unknown tanker had entered the Secure Waters around the Poseidon Naval Complex, did not respond to warnings, and was destroyed. The responses would be scathing. Already the message boards and chatrooms were screaming conspiracy and murder, with the newsmedia giving limited stories. Things were not going well.

Poseidon City
0542 NEST

The cell phone was set to vibrate, which meant it did not wake up Captain Alex Puller.

No, the little thing continued to hum across the wooden nightstand of the apartment bedroom, until it fell off and made a loud smack against a dropped hardcover.

Puller lazily lifted his head, looking at the red numerals as the dawn sun began to filter through the city. The mumbled something, and sat up, stumbling to his cell and picking it up.

"'ello."

"Puller, that you?"

"Uh huh. Who is this?"

He staggered into the kitchen and started up the coffeemaker. The linoleum was cold against his bare feet, and he took a seat.

"This is Raymond. Look, I know you're on leave, but command wants all Tier 1 and Tier 2 boats ready to go pronto, and you guys are on the top of the Tier 2 PDF list."

"Goddamn. Is this about that tanker sinking?"

"You bet. And sensors has been saying they've been picking up a lot of sub like stuff on the perimeter. They want some more Orca's to back up the Eagle Ray squadrons."

"Well, I'll see if I can catch the 7:30 'rail to the PNC."

"Don't bother. We've got a ferry for you guys at South Port. See you there, Captain."

The line went dead, and Puller clicked his phone off. A rustling was heard in another room. It was Nora, most likely, who could sleep through an atomic bomb attack but would immediately wake up if he did. And to think he had not even had a full 24 hours of leave.

Well, time to break the bad news. It's like they say, 'hell hath no fury...'

"Captain, we're nearing the approximate location of the last transmission."

"Alright, start scanning the bottom. Let's see if we can find it."

"Aye, aye."

The submarine's ground-scanning sonar system began to map out an image of the oceanfloor. Within an hour, a large, irregular object was found.

"Captain, look at this."

"That could be worth checking. Send out a recon mini."

The order was passed along until it reached the reconnaissance team. They quickly prepared a small remote-controlled drone submarine with a variety of cameras and sensors to go out and examine the area. They launched it into the murky depths and set it towards the large object found at the bottom.

Meanwhile, the captain was making sure all was well.

"Are the Foxes (OOC: small diesel-powered attack subs) armed and ready in case we meet problems?"

"Yes, sir."

"What do the passive sonar readings look like?"

"Nothing yet, sir."

"Good. With any luck, this'll go without a hitch."

UCSNE Waters, PNC

They had been stalking the vessels as they came in. Despite the fact a rescue team was expected, they were also expected to announce themselves before coming into UCSNE waters. Another squadron of Eagle Rays now sat, no propulsion on, just listening, on the bottom of the ocean, like their namesakes. This helped them blend into the ocean bottom, and despite the comparatively shallow waters of the New Empire Sea, their ceramic hulls let them compete with scientific vessels in terms of depth.

"Hey, Monitor One, someone's pingin'. Faint, prolly passive terrain stuff, but they are."

"I confirm. No movement yet."

The four vessels talked using gertrude phones, and used a fiberoptic relay to bring the information to command.

Over Monitor 'School', PNC docks

"Alright, we got the call, let's move!"

The air cushion vehicle roared to life, part of the coast guard. It was equipped for rescue, but had been on call since most of the remains that could be had been recovered. In addition, it also housed 'minitorpedoes', a 76mm OTO Melara Super Rapid, and some SAMs.

The NECG officers were a bit pissed, because they'd thought anyone responding would have notified themselves. In any case, some asses were gonna be fined for tresspassing.

The vehicle hummed to life, and a mist formed as it raced through the water towards the crash area. A pair of CG sailors sat on the deck, smoking cigarrettes as the vessel roared forward.

"So what is this shit?"

"Someone snooping on the crash area, maybe some investigators."

As he finished his sentence, the man flicked his spent cigarrette into the ocean, where it disappeared under mist and the armored air cushion.

"Yeah, well what about those weird contacts the navy guys were talking about? That might be subs?"

"Calm down man. Probably nothing."

Lurking about 775 meters away from what little remained of the supertanker, the Qingdao operated efficiently and quietly. It had taken the hydrogen-powered submarine, four days of quiet movement and searching to arrive at the remnants of the supertanker. Captain Zhong De, had quietly dispatched a team of five divers to investigate the wreckage and discover the nature of the explosion.

The divers had just returned from another excursion to the wreckage, when sonar suddenly reported a plethora of contacts.

Petty Officer First Class, Jeremiah Stallsworth was at sonar when he reported, "Sir, we have an unknown submarine bearing oh five hundred, range approximately 700 meters. No identification yet, sir..."

"God damn't..." the weary captain replied

"Sir, I'm also reading the presence of four subfighters... They're talking over the gertrude, but its too faint to tell..."

"This is about to get real ugly, real fast. OOD, sound silent battlestations."

"Silent battlestations, aye sir..." replied the Officer of the Deck.

Suddenly red lights replaced the pale neon lights all over the submarine, as the crew of the Qingdao hurriedly assumed their positions, preparing for battle...

[Don't mean to be rude, but can we get on with this? I'd suggest setting aside some time this weekend so everyone can be on that needs to be on so that we can actually get some decent progress instead of the turtle crawl that this RP has been doing.]

OOC- Hear! Hear! This man speaketh the truth! And I shall be here Saturday afternoon.

The recon minisub's operators stared intently at the data they were recieving.

"This is definitely the ship..."

"Look here. This area looks like it was torn open by a strong force...probably an explosion."

"There's another one on this piece, too."

"Looks like the oil hold was completely ruptured..."

"Then where the hell's the oil?"

"Well, either it was stolen, which I highly doubt, or...it burned."

"I believe we have an attack on our hands, here. Submarines, perhaps?"

"Definitely. These holes are at torpedo level."

"Report back to the captain. I'll bring the recon sub back in."

Meanwhile...

"Sir, it looks like there are some faint readings on the sonar...shit, they're everywhere."

"Alright, keep calm. Ready battlestations, remain on standby. We'll try to crawl our way out of here as soon as the data comes back in."

"Sir? The recon team just reported back. They're done analyzing and they should be ready for us to leave in a few minutes."

"Alright. Let's get ready then...men, be very, very quiet. Pass on the order."

The NECG vessel sat directly over the vessel, it's engines roaring. Surely the minisub would hear it. The armored vessel spat what looked like a sonobuoy attached to a fiberoptic cable, and began transmitting on a UHF frequency so it could be picked up underwater.

"ATTENTION UNIDENTIFIED VESSEL, YOU ARE IN VIOLATION OF UCSNE TERRITORIAL WATERS. SURFACE OR BE DESTROYED!"

Monitor 'School'

"C'mon... Say it..."

The pilot of Monitor 1 was waiting. The bastards were already in their territorial waters, and he was sick of letting them poke around. The plan was to hope they were unarmed and circle around, but track them with 20mm Sucav guns all the way. However, they might have brought protection considering the circumstances under which the freighter was lost. They were pulling out, and probably knew.

His navigator was in agreement, looking at the green loadout display under him. His finger carressed the "ARM" key.

Meanwhile, the Coast guard crew now had a clear picture over their LIDAR display. It was a recon submarine, looking unarmed for the most part. However, there might be other, larger, and deadlier subs in the area. The men were suited up in M114 Naval Battledress, manning various machineguns and crew served on the outside, standing at the deck entrances with rifle, subgun, and shotgun in hand, or inside using computer controls for the primary weapons.

Something had to give.

The control room of the Qingdao was a mask of tension and exhaustion, as the crew patiently waited for the storm around it to blow over. Captain Zhong De standing quietly behind the sonar display, frowned as he shook his head in disgust. The New Empire was seriously overreacting, while the unidentified vessels were being cornered.

Sighing to himself, Zhong De remembered that two hours earlier, all the torpedo tubes had been loaded, along with every single one of the AA-missile tubes located at the sail of the Qingdao. He knew that if anyone found them and attacked, they would go down fighting.

Eyeing the helmsman, Zhong De, very spooked, ordered the submarine to make seven knots and move out of the area. At seven knots, the Qingdao would still barely any noise, its quiet hydrogen conversion generator quieter than any diesel engine, battery cell, and nuclear reactor. Slowly, the submarine began to make its way out of the area, steadily heading east...

"Sir, we just recieved a transmission. It seems to be a broadcast...they don't know who we are or anything. In fact..."

"What?"

"They might only know about the minisub."

"Is it still being brought back in?"

"Yes."

"Dammit! It's heading right for us! It'll lead them to us in no time. Tell the recon boys to turn it around and have it float aimlessly while we make our leave."

"Understood."

"Get the Foxes on total alert. We're diving to the floor, and we're gonna crawl like we've never crawled before."

OOC: Check the map, North is the UCSNE Mainland. You go there, I will kill you.

IC:
"They're..." stuttered the LIDAR and SONAR operator, "They're diving. The minisub is floating up, but someone else is diving. Can hear it in the ballasts fillin' up. Faint, but there."

The captain growled and tapped his headset. He was getting very, very, pissed off at this entire thing. The Navy boys were leading them on this wild goose chase, and he still had no idea of what he was really doing. No intel on the enemy, nationality, numbers, systems used, nada. This was not the way to run a sucessful op. No, ops like this got people killed.

"UNIDENTIFIED VESSELS, SURFACE AT ONCE! YOU HAVE 30 SECONDS TO BEGIN DOING SO BEFORE YOU ARE ENGAGED BY THE FULL FORCE OF NAVAL VESSELS IN THE AREA. 30... 29..."

"Roxeanne."

The message was relayed via the UHF and fiberoptic line, and it signaled the end of the waiting. The message was relayed from the fiberoptic connected sub to the others via Gertrude.

"Monitor Actual to all Monitor elements, fuckin' Roxeanne. Let's move."

The four submarines spread apart, two moving at their 20 knot quiet speed on MHD Waterjets around the diving vessel, the other's going frontal at 10. The green glows of the WSO's screens turned yellow as the vessel was targeted.

Back at the NECG Gunboat, the men overlooked another detail. Buried behind the confusion was the faint LIDAR ping of a submarine, the one of the FCN, escaping the eyes and ears of the force for now. It was a mistake they'd regret.

(OOC: Edited... Heading east...)

Slowly the Qingdao headed east at seven knots an hour, clearing the area and heading towards freedom. Behind them, a confrontation was becoming nasty. Captain Zhong De breathed a sigh of relief when sonar finally confirmed that the New Empire vessels were concentrating on the unidentified vessels, giving the Qingdao a free ride towards the open ocean and freedom. Smiling confidently to himself, Zhong De returned back to his command chair and waited coolly and patiently as the submarine left the area. Already, Zhong De's thoughts were turning towards the report to be written to his commander, Vice Admiral Vincent Dikense, the CNSUBPAC.

"Sir, I think they see us. They're timing down...they want us to surface."

"Dammit, we can't do that. How close are we to the bottom?"

"Just about there."

"Plow forward. We need to avoid a confrontation. If all those pings are subs...the Foxes don't stand a chance against them. We need to get out of here."

"Aye, aye. Full ahead!"

The command sub relayed the orders, and as it began to jump forward, the four Fox subs followed suit. They silently prayed and hoped that they would make it home. It wasn't looking good.

"5... 4... 3... 2... 1."

"Time's up... Confirm Roxeanne and engage!"

The subfighters added their non-quiet waterjets and raced forward at 70 knots, faster than any full sized submarine could manage. Their LIDAR arrays picked up the presence of the home subs, and they immediately locked on.

Monitor One, piloted by Lt. Forham, and with Gellert as his WSO, was the first to fire. Their MFD weapons displays showed the 6 torpedo they carried, along with the count of their gun ammunition. The subfighters networked to find different targets, and once they found theirs, they locked on. the MFD showed two torpedo icons going to yellow for 'LOCK', then orange for 'ARM', and once the trigger was squeezed, red to 'FIRING'.

Each sub released two 'SeaSLAM' torpedo, which proceeded to activate their hydrogen rockets and cavitators as they raced to 350 knots in their supercavitational 'bubbles'. The 8 weapons went in with heavy, Thermium Nitrate warheads.

Immediately, the NECG surface effect gunboat raced over the waves, moving to block off the enemy subs with their own torpedo.

The orders were clear: Anyone found violating the UCSNE waters and not leaving after the warning was to be destroyed.

OOC: The command sub needs to escape so that the findings can be relayed.

One of the Foxes went down in seconds. There was nothing else to it; the torpedoes had ripped the small submarine to shreds and ruptured the fuel tanks, making a giant underwater fireball.

Another Fox was badly crippled and slowly sank to the bottom of the ocean, the crew eventually drowning as the water seeped and the air seeped out.

The other two Foxes and the command sub performed evasive maneuvers in a desperate, unlikely chance to avoid the torpedoes tailing them. One of the Fox crews wasn't lucky, with the result being a dead-on collision along the side.

The other Fox was clipped by a torpedo, but managed to evade for the time being, and it, along with the command sub, quickly sped forward again. They had to get this information to Krimson; maybe even the government.

OOC: You could surface and transmit, but whatever.
IC:

The ocean rocked with massive blasts as the supercavitating torpedo met with the unknown subs in a fury of exploding warheads and cracking metal. Up above in the Coast Guard gunboat, the men looked down in amazment and curiosity.

"What the hell are they doing down there?"

The subfighters released the rest of their torpedo in an attempt to kill the last remaining sub they could detect, but they were nearing the edges of international waters. The orders said they couldn't engage them if they weren't in their territory. Hopefully the supercavitating projectiles would reach them before then.

The last Fox didn't stand a chance. It disintegrated as a result of the detonations. The command sub took the temporary curtain offered by the massive explosion to speed out into international waters. It raced back towards the SAVX Krimson Corporation Naval Base.

Soon After The Submarine's Return...

"What the hell? They sunk it?! You've gotta be shitting me!"

"No. It was clearly impacted by multiple high-penetration torpedoes...as were the escorting submarines of the recon group."

"Jesus. This...this is an act of war!"

"It could be construed as one, yes."

"Hmm..."

"All we have to do is take it to the government."

"Yeah...I want a cost-benefit analysis of that route of action."

"Of course."

The Battlefield
3km below sea level

The NECG gunboat and subfighters gone, now a salvage ship hovered over the site of the bloody fight. The creatures of the sea long gone from the noisy and violent events, it seemed like an alien wasteland in the night. Navy dive crews outfitted in T-1 Ceramic Dive Exoskeletons made their way around the strange wreckage, the lights of the salvage minisub above them glaring like something out of a UFO movie.

The wreckage of most of the vessels were twisted hulks, but of most intrest to the crews was the sub that had gone down because of a leak. Because of this, most of the internals would be intact, and maybe the identification could be made. Crabs and fish skittering away as they approached, the divers made their way through the remains in hope of finding out just who these people were.

"Well, from the looks of things, if we beat Syntec for at least ammunition and fuel contracts, we'd come out very well from any conflict."

"Well, then, let's bring this to the public right away. We need to at least make up for the lost profits from the ship, crew, supplies, and cargo, and we need to do it fast."

"Understood."

A few hours later...Inside the Führer's Office

"They WHAT?"

"They sank numerous ships belonging our corporation in an apparently unprovoked attack."

"And why the hell would they do that?"

"I'm not sure, sir. We think it the tanker accidentally got off course and required shelter due to a storm in the area, but we know very well that all crew are required to announce their presence and intentions to any parties near them. Our submarines were sunk despite the fact that their only purpose was to get a better understanding of the tragic loss of our tanker and its crew. We believe that New Empire is trying to portray themselves as a hostile nation, and that they pose a threat to future commerce and travel."

"Well, these reports seem to back up what you say well enough..."

"We would never lie, sir."

The Führer sighed.

"Alright. You're dismissed. I'll deal with this in an appropriate manner soon enough."

"Of course, sir."

OOC: I'll be going on vacation for a few days, so I might not be able to get anything added. If I can get internet access, though, I'll make sure to keep this updated.

New Empire Network News
http://www.a-seed.jp/news/img/title_image.jpg
Live from Berliston

"Good Afternoon, this is the NENN Headline News service. For our Streaming Webcast and other internet features, log on to nenn.com.

"Today, we have a further development in the Poseidon Naval Complex story, as rumors of a large undersea engagement rocked the Oceanic States. The government reported that several combat submarines were found about 10 miles into UCSNE waters, and were destroyed. Sources show that they were investigating the frieghter, now found to be owned by Krimson Corporation, based in SAVX. It is unknown whether the submarines belonged to the same organization or nation, but the government stresses that although they would welcome help from other nations, regardless of intent, the act of bringing combat vessels into the waters of a military station without notificiation is a severe threat to security that must be neutralized with all necessary force.

"In other news, 14 were killed in riots across Kurtz when Head Governor Raybourne was arrested for misuse of government funds. The government has declined to comment on this so far, but assures that he will recieve a fair trial. All 14 were Kurtz citizens, who were killed after being fired upon by Federal agents and UCSNE ESWAT units that were called in."

Luancheng--Headquarters, Pacific Submarine Command

In a relatively unobtrusive office in the center of the headquarters of the Five Civilized Nations Pacific Ocean Submarine Command, Vice Admiral Vincent Dikense sat quietly, reading the report sent by the Qingdao. Shaking his head, both in disgust and also in anger, Dikense glanced up and motioned to his aide, standing in the doorway. "Get me the Defense Minster, we have a situation on our hands."

Saluating, the aide whirled around on the heels of his feet and entered the foyer leading into the admiral's office. Within minutes, Admiral Dikense was on the phone with the Defense Minster, Rayus Noventa. "Sir, we have a situation on our hands. According to one of our submarines, the Qingdao, on its routine circumnavigation shakedown cruise, detected the destruction of a maritime vessel near the New Empire Poseidon Naval Base. Afterwards, it noted the destruction of several submarines. Sir, the situation is critical, I advise the deployment of one squadron of our submarine assets to the location."

The situation is indeed critical. You are hereby authorized under the Peacetime Deployment Act to deploy no more than one dozen of our submarines to the location of this crisis. However, the submarines are not authorized to fire warshots unless fired upon.

"Very well. I will begin deployment immediately."

Spratyl Islands--Disputed Zone

The CNSS-570, Hai Long, the newest nuclear submarine in the Five Civilized Nations arsenal and the first Five Civilized Nations submarine to deploy minisubs, the Hai Long was considered to be the best submarine in the entire fleet. Today, on a routine patrol in the disputed waters around the Spratyl Islands, the Hai Long was not on a war standing. But that soon changed. With a flash transmission via satellite from Luancheng, the Hai Long swiftly accelerated to 45 knots, as it headed towards the Poseidon Naval Installation...

The strategic minds of Gamma-12 had swiftly responded to the situation. Satellite monitoring had provided haunting clues as to the nature of the conflict below, and the increasingly-paranoid intelligence engines were only becoming more skittish. At last, a decision was made.

A school of reconaissance "fish", accompanied some distance away by a squad of larger torpedo fish, deployed to the area.

OOC:

Recon Fish:

Length: 1 meter
Hull: Flexible polycarbon sheathe, layered under with rigid carbon fiber plates.
Propulsion Method: Lateral swimming (no propellers or mechanical motors involved; it swims like a real fish).
Armaments: None
Masking/Stealth: None per se; they contain very little metal and have a very low sonar profile, and are easily mistaken for biologics when they are detected at all. Sonar can be replaced by dolphin noises at any time.

Torpedo fish:

Similar to recon fish, but the size of a very large shark (5 meters). They attempt to disguise themselves with the noise of whales, and their lines are somewhat stealthed. They are armed with a mini-torpedo launcher (10 salvoes of 5 each) and when out of ammunition, they can rigidify their "spine", activate a concealed engine, build up a supercavitation bubble, and ram their targets, setting off an explosive charge in the process.

Gamma-12 has deployed 5 torpedo fish and 20 recon fish. The recon models will split up, while the torpedo fish are mimicking a pod of whales nearby.

OOC: POS forums... Just ate a huge post. Oh well.
IC:

Things went from bad to worse. The attack submarines were confirmed to be that of Krimson, a SAVX company. Somehow, news of the find got loose, and the media made the correct assumption that the frieghter was of the same ownership. Almost immediately, lawyers from Myers SynTrol, Krimson's oil contract, were flapping their gums at the DoD, the Department of the Navy, and God knew how many others. Oil prices climbed, and Myers SynTrol's stocks fell. As Admiral James Riker, in command of the PNC put it, the opinion of the situation was, "I'm gonna kill those fucking liberal needledick media-whores!"

And now, as a result, Alex Puller lead a behemoth nearly ten thousand tons just above the thermocline, a sonobuoy trailing into it. It was a submarine tactic that they had devised when submarines began being constructed with ceramic deep diving hulls. Hopefully, the advantage of the thermocline would allow them to listen in without being listened to as much. They patrolled at the edge of the 12 mile territorial limit from the PNC, at a quiet 10 knots on their MHD/DSEMP assisted pumpjets. His own boat, the Predator, was an SSN among four others, the legendary Orca, the Swiftfin, the Bottlenose, and the Whaletooth.

Even at their home, the SSN was a creature of silence, stealth... And patience.

Transmission Across the Globe...

Der Führer, Hans Müller, stood at a podium with press littered everywhere. He had various governmental heads sitting on either side of the podium. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

"People of SAVX, and people of all respectable foriegn entities, a tragedy has struck us in the past few weeks. An unarmed oil tanker was caught in the middle of a dangerous sea storm and attempted to seek refuge at a New Empirean naval base. Despite its attempts to transmit its non-hostility, it was fired upon and sunk by NE submarines.

A reconnaissance crew was recently sent to find out just what had occured to the missing tanker, and after they found out what happened, they were fired upon as well. Four of our neutral submarines were sunk in the process.

We grieve for all the sailors lost in this event, as well as for the families who have to put up with this tremendous loss. But we cannot let this go unanswered.

We request international aid in a naval blockade of NE until reparations are made. We will determine what must be repaid in order to make up for the tragic loss these innocents had to suffer."

Transmission Ends...

"God, I hope this doesn't develop into anything too huge."

"It won't, sir."

"I hope so. *cough* Alright, I'll take your question."

Shocking news from the international scene as SAVX orders a blockade of New Empire. We'll have that speech next, followed by an official reply.
--
"While we deeply regret this tragedy, we must ask the SAVX government why they did not attempt to negotiate with UCSNE rescue and recovery efforts. Why they violated our national security by bringing four combat submarines deep into our territory. Why they have chosen the path of war over that of reconciliation. We will make repartations, but should one nation send their vessels of war into our territory, they will be destroyed. All of the said incidents took place in our territory, and when we find enemy submarines lurking in our water, without responding to communication attempts, do you expect us to sit with our thumbs under our rears and watch? Our men performed their duty, just as they have always done. It is not they who are at fault. Nor is it our policy. It is the fault of the SAVX govermment for choosing the wrong way to deal with their problems. Had their vessel attempted communication, and the Emission Monitoring Reports show that no radio signals were recieved by the PNC for the patrol craft, we would have been able to get them back into standard sea lanes. Had they requested permission to see the remains instead of barging in with four armed vessels, we would have not destroyed them. But you are blaming our men for following perfectly reasonable ROE during tough situations, making difficult decisions, and making threats because of it. And that, citizens of the world, is not how to solve disputes with reason."
--
That was President Alex Kessler. You're watching NENN, up next, we have political analysts across the nation give their opinions on the event.

PNC C4I/HQ

"So the fuckers want to blockade us? Well, we'll screw them over like their last four subs."

Riker sat in his office, vidconning with several others from his HQ. On the line were several others, Admiral Tenner, commander of the Corinth Dleroes Battlegroup and several other groups, SSA Director David Veers, and President Kessler.

"Where are the carriers," spoke the President.

Tenner, onboard the CVSN-91 Corinth Dleroes Submersible Carrier, was sitting in a CIC. He tapped something on his keyboard, and a map came up on the screen.

"I'm currently 100 miles north of the PNC, onboard the Corinth. We've got four Leviathan Missile subs, and six Orca class attackers. Then we've got the New Empire class supercarriers Pantera, Sambizie, and Elara and their CBGs to the south, west, and east. They're on full readiness."

The President nodded, and the map disappeared. However, it was availible to all of the men's computers, and to those on WARNET with the right access.

"Mr. Veers, what do we know about the SAVX Navy?"

"It's good sized, mostly US stuff from the turn of the century. AEGIS, Nimitz, all that jazz. However, they do operate a light carrier for helo ops called the Cyanide, and they do have a high speed attack/patrol hydroplane. In any case, I wouldn't want them at my doorstep. But it's their Airforce and ground forces that are a real worry. Their fighters are on par with our generation Seven, likely Eight, aircraft. Ground forces are just as good as ours, better in some respects. Should these guys make landfall, it'll be trouble."

"Damn," mused Riker, "The days when every sub had a Mk88 Nuclear torpedo, every carrier with nuclear cruise missiles, and now we can't even use Tacnukes."

"The plasma yield warhead offers more precision than-"

"Still more expensive, less of the hitting power. As for my front, we've got 5 subs on patrol. I know the captains, they're good guys. Full complement of NECG gunboats, subfighters, air defense, the works."

"Then all we can do now is hope for peace..."

The Imperium officially protests this proposed blockade against the nation of New Empire. A captain of a ship, even a civilian one, should know better than to try to dock his ship at a foreign naval base in low-visibility conditions. Furthermore, the loss of four combat vessels inside foreign territorial waters, and right next to a known military base no less, is also not the fault of New Empire.

We warn SAVX and any of its allies in this endevour that New Empire has the Imperium's full support. A blockade against New Empire will be considered a blockade against the Imperium and dealt with as such.

Inside the Führer's Office...

"General Pettin, General Berovki, General Ramel...I now leave this matter in your respectable hands. I trust you to avoid an all-out war, if possible. If not, I trust you to attain victory. None of you have failed me yet, and I see no reason you should begin to now."

They chorused, "Understood, sir."

Hans nodded. He shook their hands, then wandered over to his desk.

"One more thing, then you can go. What do the odds of combat look like?"

General Pettin strode forward.

"From the looks of things sir, the primary thing we have to worry about is their navy. We'll definitely need international aid if we have any hope of maintaining a strong blockade. Beyond that, if this ever got into full-out war...I think we could pull it off, with help."

"I see. Well, start contacting friendly governments. Let's see if we can get some help."

"Understood."

"Dismissed."

OOC: Role call!

OOC: Gamma-12 ready for action.

OOC: Uh oh...*pokes thread with a stick*

OOC- So......what's going on with this then?
*Crickets Chirp*

Bump

OOC: BUMP for the rest of you... Anyway, let's go with what we have, and TG the people on each side asking them if they're still interested, and if they are, they can come.

[I'm here.]

Bump again?

I'll keep checking on this...I can't really get involved until someone draws me in...

Well... We could keep going with the people we have...

Aye. We still want to be neutral at first though.

[Im just waiting for my oppertunity to get involved.]

(OOC: Illior, this is a closed RP... Unless you signed up for it, you are not allowed to post here.)