NationStates Jolt Archive

Part 1: The Shipment

Alexandroupoli, Greece, 10:34 AM

Sandor Zadaprushki waited in the rain, watching the large ship lumbering towards the port. That ship’s cargo was the key to the entire revolutionary effort. He checked his watch. It was almost time. He walked over to another man standing a few yards away, also watching the freighter.

“Get the trucks ready. We need to move quickly when that ship get here.”

The second man walked off towards a loading area. Zadaprushki walked down towards the docks. A man in a grey raincoat, who had been observing his every move, followed him.

At 11 AM the freighter pulled into port. Sandor boarded, and made his way towards the bridge. Captain Ziven Zadaprushki met him there, exchanging greetings with the man.

“You made it, brother,” Sandor said to the captain.

“Of course I made it. Did you doubt me?” he replied, laughing. “Do you want to see the equipment?”

“I didn’t come all the way here not to.”

Ziven led his brother down to the ship’s cargo hold. Lining the hold were hundreds of wooden crates and metal boxes of varying size. Ziven picked up a crowbar that lay atop one of the crates and pried the lid off, to reveal stacks of AKM assault rifles. Sandor picked one up and put it to his shoulder, testing the feel.

“Thousands of them, from a hundred different African, Arab, and European arms merchants,” Ziven told Sandor. “And that’s not all we have, either.”

Sandor put the gun back in the crate and put the lid back on. Ziven picked up one of the smaller, but still heavy, long metal boxes and set it on one of the crates. He opened the latch and lifted the lid. Inside lay an unloaded RPG-7. Ziven smiled at the sight, running his hand across the weapon.

“Thousands of guns, and enough ammo to last a lifetime, my friend,” Ziven said.

“You have done well for the cause, brother. General Bracco will be proud. You may even get a promotion.”

“Don’t flatter me. I do what I do because it is my duty to our people,” replied the captain. “Come. There is one more thing for you to see.”

Ziven led Sandor back towards the ship’s stairwell and down further into the hold.

“If you liked that, then you will love this.”

Ziven opened the door and led Sandor into a room bathed in red electric light. In the gloom, Sandor made out the shapes of armored vehicles lined against the hull of the ship. T-72 tanks, armored personnel carriers, URAL trucks, and ZSU-23-4s. It was like a candy store for rebel armies. Sandor threw his head back in laughter.

“It is so close I can grasp it! With these the cause will finally be brought to life!”
The two men walked back up the stairwell towards the ships deck.

--00—

Outside, the dockworkers began the unloading process. Sandor’s organization had bought the particular area of the port, and sealed it off as private. No prying eyes would be around to observe the unloading of the vessel’s cargo. Trucks moved through the area all day and rainy night, ferrying the arms to a private airport outside of Alexandroupoli, where they were loaded aboard several large transport aircraft. The military vehicles were moved to the airfield by flatbed, under large tarps. The entire operation was under constant supervision by the Zadaprushki brothers, and also by the man in the grey raincoat, who no one seemed to notice. The next morning as the last of the cargo was unloaded, a tired and red-eyed Sandor approached his brother.

“Is your plan still intact?” Sandor asked.

“Yes. My crew and I will bring our ship several miles out, and scuttle it. We will be evacuated before hand by helicopter.”

“Be careful, brother.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in Sofia.”

“In Sofia.”

The men said their goodbyes, and Sandor hitched a ride on one of the cargo trucks bound for the airfield, while Ziven made his way back to the ship’s bridge.

At the small privately owned airfield, the last of the weapons were loaded onto the fleet of cargo jets. Sandor took a last look at the land, before boarding a small executive jet with two armed bodyguards.

On the runway the man in the raincoat crept up to one of the men loading the aircraft. He put his hand over the man’s face, and dragged the unfortunate soul behind a stack of empty crates. His knife flashed briefly as a bolt of lightning cleaved the sky in two, and then buried itself deep in the man’s throat. The man in the raincoat dressed himself in the worker’s soaking clothes, and hid the body in the empty crate. He slipped his raincoat on again, and hid his knife in the belt. He then stole aboard the aircraft’s cargo hold. There was an armed guard in one of the sparse seats.

“Almost missed the flight.” The guard looked up as the man removed the hood that had hid his face in shadow. “You’re no-” The killer’s knife cut him off as it flew through the air and buried itself in the guard’s chest. The man walked over, pulled his knife out of the soldier’s chest, and slashed his trachea.

“Name’s Edemskoi,” said the man as he wiped the blade off on the man’s clothes. He dragged the body to the exit, and hurled it out of the plane, as the ramp began to close. The blood mixed with the puddles of rain on the ground. The man walked towards one of the crates, and pried the lid off, using the guard’s bayonet as a lever. He saw the contents, and looked around at the other large crates stacked throughout the back of the plane, then out the window at the other enormous airplanes taxiing into position.

“My God,” he whispered to the empty hold.

--00—
Thomas Edemskoi sat behind one of the large crates. He had not slept for over two days, and had dozed off during the flight. He was startled out of his sleep as the plane touched down. He checked to make sure his weapons were still in place, and stood up. He had no idea where the plane was, or how long he had been in the air. He walked towards the ramp control, and pushed a button, opening the ramp, and revealing a sun baked airfield.

“Hey, you!” someone called from the foot of the ramp. “Get back in there! We’re not there yet. Just refueling.”

“Where are we?” Edemskoi asked the man.

“None of your business! Get back in the hold, and close that damn hatch!

Edemskoi pushed a second switch, bringing the ramp back up. He moved towards the front of the hold. He found a door towards the front of the cargo bay. It was unlocked, and Edemskoi went through. The cockpit of the plane was empty. The pilots had probably gone to stretch their legs after the flight. He looked out at the small airport. Several aircraft similar to the one he was on were parked across the tarmac, undergoing refueling procedures. Edemskoi walked towards the exit to the rear of the cockpit. It was open, and a set of portable stairs was positioned beside it. The soldier who had seen him earlier was sitting at the bottom, talking to a man that looked like a technician of some sort. Edemskoi listened to their conversation.

“What are you in it for?” asked the soldier.

“Money, of course. Why, what did you sign on for?”

“The money’s good, I’ll give you that, but don’t you care at all about the cause?”

“eehh, communism’s communism. It doesn’t affect me one way or the other. I still stay poor.”

“But it’s the idea! The Emperor rules our lives like a god. The people need to have more power. The government and the wealth belong to the common man.”

“I don’t know. I consider myself a pretty common man, and I wouldn’t want the government in my hands.”
.
“I give up!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

Edemskoi slipped back into the cargo hold. He settled himself against the crates again, readying himself for the second leg of the journey.

‘Communists. Just what we need,” he said to himself.

--00—

The cargo planes touched down at a private airfield several miles outside of Sofia. Sandor stepped off of his small commercial aircraft and surveyed the scene. His men were moving quickly. They had already brought the trucks up to begin unloading the aircraft. The military vehicles were being moved out onto the runway and into various hangars across the airfield. A black limousine pulled up next to his plane. Sandor walked down the stairs, and opened the door. There was a man sitting inside, drinking from a small glass.

“Agent Dzogan?” Sandor asked the man, as he climbed into the vehicle. The man put down the glass.

“Mr. Zadaprushki,” said the man. “How are my shipments?”

“All of the weapons arrived in perfect condition.”

“Good. The General will be pleased. You will meet him now.”

The limo sped off.

--00—

As the aircraft touched down, Edemskoi activated a signaling beacon he had in his pocket. With that to guide them, Generian special forces would be swarming all over the place in no more than twenty minutes. Edemskoi lowered the cargo hatch, and a swarm of people boarded the plane, busying themselves in unloading the weapons. Edemskoi carried a crate along with the others, while he observed the situation. A black limo pulled slowly onto the runway. Edemskoi slipped away from the workers, and fell in behind the car. As it stopped in front of a small commercial airplane, Edemskoi placed a tracking bug on the rear bumper.

There was a truck waiting nearby. The driver was smoking out of sight of the guards, trying to avoid backlash for his laziness. Edemskoi came up behind him, and clubbed him over the head. He dragged the man into the truck, and got in the driver’s seat. As the limo pulled away, he followed. The guards at the gate waved him though, and he proceeded down the worn road, following the tracking device.

As he went deeper into a forested area, the paved highway became a dirt road. The heavy truck kicked up dust behind it. Edemskoi pulled off the road, deciding to abandon the vehicle. After a mile, he came to a fenced area, not located on any map. The area had been cleared of trees, and lights showed from several wooden structures.

--00—

The limousine pulled into a freshly constructed compound, far away from the eyes of the government. The vehicle stopped in front of a two story wooden building. The men got out, and Dzogan led them into the headquarters of the Generian Communist Revolutionary Brigade. The men went upstairs to an office. A large man dressed in a military uniform say at the desk. He was not a young man, sporting a graying beard, but he was by no means feeble, either.

“General Bracco, I give you Sandor Zadaprushki and vice-versa.”

The General stood up, and walked towards Sandor.

“You have done well for the cause today. I will not forget your service in the future.”

“I am honored, General.”

“However, there is more work to be done before the moment of truth. I need you to go to the city, and oversee the preparations there.”

“By all means comrade.”

Sandor and his guards left the room, walked outside to a black sedan parked near the limo they had arrived in, and drove off towards Sofia.

--00—

Outside General Bracco’s window, Edemskoi hung from the building’s roof, listening to the General’s every word. When the conversation finished, he pulled himself back onto the roof, and reached for the phone in his pocket. He contacted the agency.

“This is Edemskoi,” he whispered to the other end. “I am at a complex approximately 12 miles outside of Sofia. The General is here. Send your teams.” He hung up, and got into position for the assault.

Part 2: The Sting

The Generian special forces moved quickly, surrounding the airfield in under a minute. Agent Dmitri Karasik lay waiting for the order to move his team in. The radio attached to his Kevlar vest crackled to life:

“Agent Karasik. You are clear to move your team in to secure the shipments. Remember, every one who is not one of us is one of them.”

Karasik stood up out of the tall grass, his MP-5 held ready. His team stood with him. They moved in from the west, using the crates as cover. When they neared the cargo planes, his and 12 other teams inside and around the airfield sprung into action. The enemy soldiers were taken off guard, not knowing what hit them. When the enemy finally figured out what was going on after taking significant losses, they took cover and fired at the Imperial forces with AKM assault rifles. Karasik and his men hit the ground. There was a faint noise and a groaning, as one of his men caught a bullet in the leg. Karasik returned fire, taking the hostile soldier out. He moved his team towards the nearest aircraft. The guards had taken cover behind one of the weapons crates. Karasik tossed a grenade, and the bodies flew into the air, landing with a thud on the concrete. The workers who had been unloading the crates, cowered behind them. Karasik moved into the cargo bay of the first aircraft. He radioed his superiors.

“Aircraft one secured.”

All across the runway, the other teams did the same, eliminating the resistance, and securing the aircraft. The operation was over in ten minutes. Karasik met his commander in the center of the runway. The man walked over to him, and shook his hand.

“Excellent work agent.”

“It was a pleasure Mr. Skorepa,” replied Karasik, as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “I have a wounded man back there,” he gestured towards one of the cargo planes. “He’ll need medical assistance.”

“Right away,” said Josef Skorepa.

“What about General Bracco?” asked Karasik.

“It’s covered,” replied Skorepa.

--00—

The armored personnel carriers burst through the fences of the compound, to be greeted by surprised guards and assault rifle rounds. The soldiers inside burst from their transports, firing back. Colonel Lew Dmitriev led his men towards a large wooden building in the compound. He stood to the side of the door, tossing a flash grenade inside. His team moved in, slaughtering the guards. The team moved upstairs to the office door. A helicopter could be heard outside, firing into the rebel soldiers. One of Dmitriev’s men kicked in the door, and was blown backwards as his chest was ripped apart by rounds from an M-60. General Bracco had set the machine gun on his desk, as the battle broke out. Lew signaled to one of his other men, and the man tossed another flash grenade into the room. It worked, and the General doubled over in pain, blinded. Lew’s team moved in and secured Bracco. The colonel radioed Josef Skorepa:

“We have him. Repeat, Bracco is in our custody.”

--00—

On a rooftop outside, Edemskoi finished off the remaining soldiers with a stolen Dragunov. He climbed down to meet the officer dragging General Bracco from the headquarters building.

“Excellent work securing the compound, colonel Dmitriev. The Empire has you to thank,” said the agent.

“And you would be?” asked Dmitriev, allowing his men to drag the General towards the Mi-24 that had landed in the middle of the base.

“Name’s aren’t important,” Edemskoi replied with a smile. The agent turned and walked off.

General Bracco was bound, blindfolded, and dragged into the waiting Mi-24. The helicopter took off, bound for Generia City in the northern empire.

--00—

Generian Imperial Intelligence building, Generia City

“We got him.” Ivan Cac declared. His words were greeted by uproarious cheers from the employees in the main room of the agency. While the intelligence agency rejoiced, Cac turned to Agent Palobiski.

“Who was he anyway?” asked Cac.

“General Bracco was an alias for Kazatimiru Volnitza, head of the Generian Communist Party. Consequently, he was also the founder of the militant wing of that party.”

“Shame. I knew the man. I never figured him for a revolutionary.”

--00—

The Mi-24 touched down on a helipad on the roof of the GII building. General Bracco was unloaded and received by Imperial soldiers. He was led inside and into an elevator that took him towards the interrogation rooms. Ivan Cac met him in one of the rooms.

“Mr. Volnitza,” Cac addressed the broken man.

“Why am I not dead, Mr. Cac?” asked the General.

“Soon enough. We’re going to give you a fair trial, followed by a first class execution.”

“For now, we need to know who else was in on your operation.”

The General snorted in disgust.

“I figured as much. It doesn’t matter. We already know, and are already moving against them.”

--00—

Sandor stopped short several blocks up the street from the Sofia headquarters of the GCRB. Two unmarked, armored vans were parked outside the building, and men were being led out by Imperial soldiers. Sandor turned the sedan around, and headed out of the city as he tried desperately, but in vain to contact General Bracco.

The rogue agent Dzogan had been lucky enough to escape the compound when the assault began. He now found himself running through the woods in a direction he did not know. By nightfall he would find himself in the town of Belsograd, to learn the news of the demise of the GCRB.

Part 3: Trial and Error

The trial of Kazatimiru Volnitza was short. He was convicted unanimously on the first day by a 12-man jury. The charges were high treason and conspiring to overthrow the government. The next day he was executed publicly, by firing squad.

The response by the Generian communists came more quickly than expected, too fast and too strong for the Imperial police and military to handle. Several protests in the capital the day after the execution turned violent, and soldiers were called in to contain them. The protests soon became all out riots, and when the mob attacked the Imperial soldiers, they were forced to fire into the crowds, killing 19 people and wounding 123.

--00—

Sandor Zadaprushki arrived at a small brick building in southern Sofia. It was the last stronghold of the organized communist revolution. He parked his car awkwardly, and ran through the front door of the building, frantic and exhausted. He was met by a young man brandishing an AK-47. Sandor tried frantically to formulate a sentence in his panicked state.

“Calm down, Sandor. We know,” said the young man.

“They got to us! How did they find us!” yelled the panicked man.

“We don’t know. They took Bracco, and most of the other leadership. You’re lucky you got away.”

“What happened to Ziven? Did he scuttle the ship?”

The other man’s expression saddened.

“I am sorry, Sandor. The Imperials were waiting for him. They boarded the ship. 100 percent casualties.”

Sandor was shocked.

“How?”

“We have no idea. They knew about the whole operation. Everything, and where everyone was. It’s only a matter of time before they get to us. That’s why we have to move. I’m going to lay low in Pernik. You can come if you wish.”

--00--

Sandor received word of the execution in a small farmhouse outside the city of Pernik. Andrej Rabinovich, the man who had brought him there when he fled Sofia, gave him the news.

“Sandor! They’ve killed him! They shot Bracco!”

“I’m not surprised.”
“The people are rioting in the streets of the capital! They are calling for the Emperor’s head.”

Sandor’s expression turned from surprise to excitement.

“Then we must go to Generia City. This is our chance! The movement will live on.”

The two men drove a black sedan for two days without stopping, to reach the capital. They quickly organized the rioters, and planned their strike

--00—

Emperor Vladimir Kreschnev sat in his office in the Imperial Palace, listening to the growing noise outside. He had the protection of several armed Imperial Praetorians. He tapped his fingers on his desk with one hand, as he nervously fondled his pistol with the other. The noise outside was becoming deafening.

--00—

Sandor stood at the gates of the Imperial palace backed by a mob of angry communists. The soldiers on the other side of the iron gate were growing uncomfortable. Suddenly one of them opened fire at the protestors. There was a roar from the crowd that carried like a wave. One of the rioters drew a pistol he had concealed in his jacket. He fired wildly into the soldiers, killing one of them with a shot to the head.

The wave of human beings surged forward, tearing the gate from its hinges. The people flooded into the courtyard. The soldiers stood their ground, but were overtaken by the mob. They were beaten, stabbed, and trampled. The mob moved towards the palace doors, led by Sandor. He had taken an AKM from one of the soldiers, as had several others.

--00—

At an arms depot in the center of Generia city, the soldiers tried to hold off another mob that had developed. This group of rioters was more organized than the rest. Nearly two thirds of them were armed.

At 3 PM the mob drew their weapons, and broke through the barricade. The mass of people flooded the isolated arms depot, slaughtering the outnumbered soldiers inside. This particular depot was where the majority of the arms confiscated in the airport raid had been stored. Once the depot was secure, the new owners began arming their supporters.

--00—

The captain of Emperor Kreschnev’s Imperial Guard burst into his office.

“Your grace! They’ve broken through the gate!”

His voice was drowned out by the sounds of footsteps, wild yelling, and gunfire.

--00—

Sandor led his army into the office of the Emperor. The soldiers inside fired wildly, cutting down many of Sandor’s men. They were outnumbered however, and the mob flooded in, cutting down the soldiers. The captain of the guard was slashed across the throat, his blood spilling over his uniform and onto the floor.

--00—

Kreschnev stood up, baring the magnum he had hidden under his desk. He unloaded at the leader of the mob, but strangely did not hit him. It was as if the bullets refused to touch the man. The Emperor watched as his guards fell around him, and then heard the terrifying sound of dry firing.

--00—

Sandor dived over the Emperor’s desk, tackling him to the ground. The mob surged around him, grabbing the emperor and dragging him through the halls of his own palace. There were bodies lying everwhere, and the walls were washed in blood. The mob dragged the emperor outside, where a crowd had gathered. Sandor spoke to them:

“My brothers! Our hour is upon us! At this moment this man shall pay for his crimes! We will no longer live under totalitarian, and economic rule! This is the birth of the Republic!”

A man handed Sandor a pistol, and he aimed it at the Emperor’s head. Emperor Kreschnev stood straight, tall and imposing even at the hour of his demise. He spoke to his executioner:

“You know not what you do. You are weak, and you will see the empire crumble before you. Even now I would not wish you fate on you.”

Sandor tried to pull the trigger, but could not seem to force himself to do it. Emperor Kreschnev spoke again.

“You are weak.”

Sandor fired, and the bullet penetrated Kreschnev’s skull, leaving his blood to spill onto the stone. As the people cheered, Sandor looked at the body and thought about the words. A sick sensation seized him.

Part 4: The Republic

Sandor stepped in front of the cameras that had been set up in the Kreschnev’s office.

“People of Generia and the world, today is indeed a great day, for today we have taken the crown from one man, and given it to the masses! Emperor Kreschnev is dead, and Generia will now be a republic. I, Sandor Zadaprushki, will lead us through this new period of transition, until we can elect a leader democratically. I hope you will stand by us in the new era, so that we may live free from the tyranny of the past. For Generia, For God!”

The message finished, and Sandor walked over to his newly appointed vice president, Andrej Rabinovich.

“You have news?” Sandor asked.

“Bad news, I am afraid. While most of the northern section of the empire support the revolution, several provinces, including the entire Sofia area have refused to accept you as their leader.”

“Then we must make them accept. Organize our new republican army. When we are ready, we will march on the ignorant.”

OOC:Is it okay if I join in on the side of the of the rebels(after all... the Emporer gave me the Shiva Virus)

OOC:Is it okay if I join in on the side of the of the rebels(after all... the Emporer gave me the Shiva Virus)

((OOC: Completely up to you.))

Citadel of Doom, Doomingsland-
A marine rushed up the winding stairs of the citadel. The stucture had stood for 1500 years. He burst into the main hall, which was decorated with the skulls of slain enemies.


"My lord, we have a situation in Generia."
"Don't tell me Ulrich escaped again." said Emporer Helldawg.
"I'm afraid its more serious than that, my lord. The emporer of Generia is dead."
"Who did it?"
"Apparently their was a communist uprising."
"Why won't those damn commies just crawl in a hole and die? Who's in charge of the government?"


An advisor burst into the room.
"My lord, you should see this!" he turned on the massive TV in the room and saw the speech.
"Well, there's my answer. General, I need you to contact any rebel movments."
"Right away, Emporer." and with that, the advisor and the marine left the room to carry out their orders.

((OOC: Please forgive any blaring typos. I plan to edit later.))


Ruse, southern Generia 14:00

General Lew Dmitriev looked across the Danube at the city he had been ordered to take. His army consisted of armed civilians, mainly. They were nowhere near the trained perfection of the professional Imperial army he had served. They were well equipped, however. They had several T-72 tanks, Mi-24 helicopters, and each man carried a new AKM assault rifle. He had a force of about 1,000 men. This would be too easy, he thought to himself. He gave his order and the tanks began rumbling towards the city, as the helicopters moved in overhead.

--00—

Captain Rurik Karolef clutched his rifle as the helicopter made its way over the city. The sound of gunfire could be heard as bullets ricocheted off the sides of the chopper. Rurik lay on the floor to avoid the lead that was flying through the vehicle like a swarm of mosquitos.

The Mi-24 opened fire on several ex-Imperial soldiers in the street as it descended. It touched down, and the eight men under Rurik’s command poured out, firing at the loyalists. Two other helicopters flew down the wide street, strafing the enemy’s fortified position. Rurik and his men charged, eliminating the rest of the defensive squad.
The tanks and armored personnel carriers had reached the outskirts of the city. The APCs unloaded, and the Republican forces charged into the suburbs, unsure what to expect in their first engagement as republican soldiers.

A T-72 rounded the corner of a building, to meet a rocket propelled grenade. The explosion crippled the vehicle, and the crew crawled out from the smoke filled turret. Rebel soldiers moved in, gunning down the tank crew, and disappearing into an alley.

--00—

Flying low, along the Danube, two Mig-21s flew towards the embattled city of Ruse. The aircraft rocketed over the center of the city, unleashing their payload. The explosions ripped apart the three tanks that the rebels had in their command, and scorched the skin off of twenty of their soldiers. The smoke trailed into the sky to meet with the plumes from the rest of the city.

The republican forces had met stiff resistance in the northwest corner of the town. The loyalists had fortified themselves in several buildings, and had barricaded the street. The republican forces were beginning to panic in their inexperience, and the loyalists knew this. Snipers peered from apartment windows, harassing the advancing army.

Rurik Karolef dived behind a dumpster, narrowly avoiding the wrath of an invisible machine gunner. He put his back to the garbage can, and breathed deeply. The bullets buried themselves in the dumpster, as the gunner tried to force Rurik from his cover. The firing stopped and Rurik peered over the top of his hiding place, He ducked quickly as the bullets once again sliced through the air. He now knew where the machine gunner was. Rurik took another deep breath, and rolled from his cover, sprinting towards the side of an apartment that his would be killer was hiding in. Rurik kicked in the door, and moved up the steps. A man appeared at the top of the staircase, brandishing a rifle. Rurik reacted quickly, blowing the man’s legs out from under him. He fell over the railing, and plummeted to his death. Rurik pulled the pin on a grenade, and tossed it over the railing into the open door of an apartment. The explosion brought forth a scream from the machine gunner. Rurik made his way back into the street.

In the city, the rebels were being overwhelmed by sheer force of numbers. The Republican tanks had broken their barricade and destroyed the buildings they had fortified. Overhead the Mi-24s strafed the retreating soldiers, cutting them down mercilessly. The Republican foot soldiers saw the way the tide was turning, and pursued the rebel forces, cornering them in the burning city center. The Mi-24s fired into the gathered soldiers, slaughtering them like fish in a barrel. The last stronghold lay in the mayoral mansion to the east of the downtown area. The tanks halted outside, and fired into the façade, shattering the front of the building. Soldiers poured into the building, and returned moments later dragging the city’s mayor. They stood the man up, and unceremoniously executed him. The men then proceeded to haul down the Imperial flag, and replace it with a makeshift banner depicting Sandor Zadaprushkin’s portrait. The city was theirs, and so was the first battle of the war.

Near Generian airspace-
Two C17s carrying 20 Doom Legionares each (SFs) flew at high altitude toward one of the rebel Generian provinces. The soldiers' tasks would be to establish contact with ex-Imperials.
"30 seconds!" yelled the jumomaster on Echo five. "Ten seconds!" ten seconds later, the green light went on. "Go go go!"
The men were outside Generia, but would be performing HAHO jumps, and drift into Generian terrirtory. They would be virtualy undetectable amidst the night sky. The men were armed with XM8 and XM29 rifles, there were two M240 teams. 12 men carried an AT4 in adition to their rifles. There were also 4 Stinger missile launchers. Along with the men, supplies and weapons would be dropped to equip the rebels. The men had AN/PVS7D NVGs on, the dark sky was illuminated in a dim green light. They had digital pattern camo fatigues(USMC type) and level II kevlar.

After 10 minutes of drifting, the first men hit the ground. Their leader, Captain Doom, younger brother of General Doom, immediatly got the men organized. Intel said their was a rebel camp about 5 klicks south of their position.
"Cap'n, what's the plan?" said his trusted friend and assinged bodyguard, Sgt. Carter.
"I'm taking six men, and we're gonna head south to meet the rebs, you assist in setting up camp."
"Roger, I'll go get the men started. Good luck."
"I'm gonna need it." he said as he checked the mag of his XM8.
The captain and six men of various fields of expertiece headed southward, where they would meet the rebels and hopfully help train them.

OOC:What's gonna happen to Ulrich?

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

Citidel of Doom, Doomingsland-
"My lord, the men are in position."
"Good, I want to bring the fight to these commie scum as soon as possible. Who's in command?"
"A certain... Captain Doom, sir."
"I've met him back when I was president. Good man. This op should succeed."

K-10 transport planes were flying high... well above the hight limits of the MIG-21s. "RED LIGHT! ON YOUR FEET!" The Red Tide praratroopers lept too their feet without qeustion. Their eyes glowed red threw their goggles, they breathed through their armored gasmasks. None of them were afraid... they could not be afraid, it was not their choice too be able to be afraid. "YELLOW LIGHT! CHECK YOUR PARTNERS!" The paratroopers checked their partners yelling out secured as each partner was checked safely. They were armedd with the State-of-the-Art XM-100 Assualt Rifles, XM-50 Submachine guns, MDM-1 Anti-tank rocket launchers, and MDM-2 handheld radar guided SAMs. They were going up agianst outdated AK-47s, T-72s, RPG-7Vs, and MIG-21s... the enemy may have tanks, planes, and artillery... they may have numbers... but the equipment the paratroopers qere equipped with would make this easy. "GREEN LIGHT! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!" The door too the K-10 swung open and the paratroopers leapt... a entire division leapt out of the hoard of K-10s flying over Northern Generia.

((OOC: FYI to anyone helping the anti-commies: The resistence is currently highly unorganised. Most of the provinces and cities that do not accept the republic are isolated from each other. Your first task should be organisation, but the loyalists will be wary of you.))

((Another helpful OOC note: The Generic Empire is the union of Bulgaria and Romania. All of the cities in these two nations retain their current location and name, except for Bucharest, which is Generia City, the capital of the Generic Empire, and Constanta, which has been renamed Port Belgrade, and plays the role of the largest port city in the empire. I realise that others have claims to one or both of these nations, but I RP Generia as the combination.))

Hours before in The Bastion of Origin:
An advisor comes bursting through the door,"Mr. President you should see this!" Turns on the massive plasma screen TV taking up the far wall of President R.L. XX's office.
(the reports show on the news)
R.L.:My God! Make conract with the loyalists! I want the Black Ops there on this one!
Advisor:But my liege, their YOUR personal guard.
R.L.:Exactly, their the best we've got. Send them or it's your head!
Advisor"*gulp* At once, sir!
Hours later (current time now) hundreds of Blackhawk helicopters set off for one the known resistance camps. On board were 500 Black Ops troopers, Ruthless Slaughter's best, to reinforce the position, evaluate the situation, and if possible, organize them into an elite fighting force.

Republican soldiers went through the city of Ruse rounding up the citizens, and bringing them to the bomb cleared town center. Throughout the day they were loaded onto Ural trucks, and ferried out of the city.

--00--

Forest three miles outside of Ruse

The three truckloads of citizens were forced off of the trucks, and made to stand near the edge of a small river. Republican soldiers stood in front of the citizens, checking their weapons. An officer gave a curt order, and the men opened fire with their AKMs. The bullets tore into the men, women, and children of Ruse, and they fell wounded or dead into the river, their blood turning the water red. Some tried to run, but the soldiers shot their legs out from under them, leaving them to bleed to death in the chill air. When their work was finished, the soldiers boarded the trucks again, to return to the city.

This was the manner in which all traitors to the republic were ordered to be dealt with, and the start of the republican ethnic cleansing campaign.

A few hours later one of the resistance citys (just pick any random one) awoke to the sound of many rotors and saw choppers emblazoned with a gold, swooping eagle. (just check my flag if your that curious) and out of them poured hundreds of soldiers armed with MP5-A5s and stinger missile launchers, their eyes glowing green through their all-light vision enhancement systems. They had the same symbol on their right arms and wore all black full body armor. One of the townspeople fearfully asked."What is happening?" The unit leader responded,"I'm Colenel James Talbitt of the RS Black Ops Division. We're here to make sure that this war's not one-sided. Any other resistance areas we should about?" As he is speaking, the troops' training kicks in and they secure a perimeter around key buildings and set up sentrys in border buildings to watch out for enemy movements. The whole process took less than ten minutes.

Doom and his team headed south, and came upon the camp. It was in a clearing in the forest.
"Sir, how should we proceed?" wispered Sgt. Johnston.
"We're gonna walk in and introduce ourselves. Keep your weapons lowered, we don't want to appear threatening."
"OK, cap'n."
Doom and his men walked right into the middle of the camp. The rebels were startled and trained their weapons on them. One of the men, an ex-imperial soldier, didn't recognise the uniform.
"Howdy, folks! I know this doesn't look good, but believe it or not, we're here to help!"

The Doomingsland troops were suprised to see it was more of a village than a camp, and almost had heart attacks when they saw soldiers clothed in black with the RS emblem walk out. One came forward and asked,"What took ya?"

Pleven, about 40 KM south of the Danube

General Bronislaw Ligachev looked out from the window of the black hawk helicopter, at the armored divisions heading for the city to the south. If Ruse fell as easily as it did, then Pleven would fall just as quickly. The armies of the republic were quickly overrunning the provinces. Before long, they would be in Sofia.

The republican forces deployed their artillery pieces, and commenced the bombardment of the city. The dull thud of the explosion carried across the open expanse to the waiting army. Overhead, the shriek of aircraft cut the quiet air, as a squadron of Mig-27s streaked towards the city. The soldiers watched the clouds of fire as the Migs released their payload of guided, unguided, and incendiary bombs on the city. The army began to move.

A column of T-80 tanks reached the outskirts of the city. From the windows, frightened people watched as the tanks moved through the streets. Suddenly, the unnatural calm was shattered as rockets streaked into the armor. Gunfire opened up as the rebels broke their cover. General Ligachev’s APCs moved into the streets, and the soldiers rushed forth, engaging their enemy. The artillery continued to fall. The battle of Pleven had begun.

OOC:RS, I didn't want our forces to link up this soon, go be in a different area than me.

The elite force of Black Ops poured lethal volley after volley of lead and missile into the advancing ranks of the opposing onslaught. Remarks such as,"Damn! Where the hell'd they get all that shit?" Another would say,"Who cares? All the more to turn into scrap!" The resistance fighters, for the short time they were given a crash cousre in Spec-Ops combat, didn't do too bad either. The main problem was the artillery. Suddenly, barrages of lead poured into the artillery. Some of the Blackhawks had seen the advance and decided to stick around. They would leave as soon as any anti-air showed itself and then attack another area.
OOC:Fine, we'll meet up later.

OOC:I'm in a different city than you, I'm not gonna engage in combat much, I've got to train the rebels first.

Village of Osagrad, 150 miles south of the Danube

The mig-27s cut through the air above the foothills of the Balkan mountains.

"That's out target up there. Arm your weapons."

The Migs flew low, releasing unguided bombs on small village below. The Migs made a second pass, strafing the ground. On the ground, a small mobile SAM launcher tracked its target. The SAM rocketed forth after one of the MIgs, connecting to create a brilliant explosion. The pilot floated gently to Earth. He had been smart enough to eject, rather than attempt to outmaneuver the SAM.

The reach of the new republic was growing quickly, and its hunger for blood was too.

OOC:GE, are you gonna RP the rebel leader talking to my SFs or not?

Twenty Black Ops were lost in artillery attacks, but they still managed to the enemy at bay.
OOC:You might deal with losses at Pleven before you move on. I can't really go any further until you do. I'll leave to you to calculate how many rebs you lost. My Black Ops did give a crash course in basic combat, remember, they now have some actual skill.

((OOC: I have to go for half an hour. Can we continue then?))

Ah, very well. I might do a few more posts at that time, then I'm calling it a night. If your on after that, could hold off on the siege of Pleven?

We extend our deepest condolences to Generia for the loss of its beloved emperor, who was a fine man and a close friend of President J.L. One trillion dollars has been wired to GE's government to help fund the war effort. In addition, General Creighton Eastmoreland is being recalled from Holy Paradise and is being transferred to Generia, along with 10,000,000 troops, 900,000 medics, 120,000 combat engineers, and 65,000 military advisors. In addition, we are sending the following:


apocalypse Class Fleet Carrier X2

Zumwalt Class Destroyer (with nuclear fusion reactors) X25

Virginia Class Fast Attack Submarine X50

The SFF-53 "Black Falcon" X250

SFF-59 "Striker" Light Fighter Bomber X250

SFF-77 X5

SFVA-3 "Tank Buster" X500

Raven Multi-Role Fighter X2,000

LSIF05 Mongoose MkII X25,000

LSUFV-02 Bulldog A X100,000

LSHA-01 Tenoth Tank X250

LSSH-01 Crow X100

LSAI-12 Rain X200

LSAF-05 Duelist X300

LSAF-07 Horror X150

LSAF-11 Abaddon X500

Astute class submarines X7,500

Super Cobra attack helicopter X2,500

Lepard 2 tanks X250

Challenger tanks X250

AC-10 "Rockhopper Penguin" Attack Helicopter X500

AC-20 "Penguin" Attack Helicopter: X500

AC-50 "Emperor Penguin" Attack Helicopter: X500

AC-70 "Mountain Penguin" Scout-Attack Helicopter: X500

TC-1000 "Madison" Heavy Transport Helicopter: 500

TC-2000 "Dark Nova" Heavy Assault Transport Helicopter: X500

HHT-3 Roosevelt Heavy Main Battle Tank: X350

HLT-20 Portland Armored Reconnaisance Vehicle/Light Tank: X1,000

HLT-20 Portland Armored Air Defense Vehicle: X1,000

HHT-1X Chamberlain Ultra Heavy Main Battle Tank/Howitzer: X200

Magistrate 2 Heavy Artillery/ Nuclear Artillery Cannon: X300

Brautwurst Heavy Infantry Gun: X500,000

F-14 Tomcat X500

F-16 Fighting Falcon X5,000

B-2 Spirit X25

A-4 Skyhawk X5,000

UH-60 Blackhawk X7,500

Rah-66 Comanche X2,500

CH-47 Chinook X5,000

CH-53 Sea Stallion X6,000

Tyrant-class Battleships X5

Twenty Black Ops were lost in artillery attacks, but they still managed to the enemy at bay.
OOC:You might deal with losses at Pleven before you move on. I can't really go any further until you do. I'll leave to you to calculate how many rebs you lost. My Black Ops did give a crash course in basic combat, remember, they now have some actual skill.

Rebel losses in brief-
25 militia footsoldiers
4 T-72 tanks
12 technicals
(Most losses from artillery and air strikes)

Rebel Camp, 60 miles east of Sofia

General Anatol Baranof stared at the map, that lay spread across the wooden table in the tent that had become his headquarters. He heard a commotion outside, and stepped into the center of the camp to find several, well equipped foreign soldiers. Baranof's men had their AKMs trained on the foreigners. One of the turned his head to the General, while keeping his weapon raised.

"They say they're here to help us, General, but I never heard about any help."

Baranof eyed the men suspicously, then raised his hand in a signal to his men to lower their weapons.

"Is this true, foreigner? If so where do you come from, and how do you plan to help us?"

"We're from Doomingsland, you know, the guys who caught that dude Ulrich for you...twice. We plan on providing training and weapons to your men. I'm Captain Doom," he said extending his hand.

GE, if you'd like us to, we can nuke the rebels into oblivion and bring a swift end to this war (but then again, what fun would that be?).

My men should be arriving soon. Though General Eastmoreland will be leading them, you'll call the shots.

Pleven, embattled rebel stronghold

The Mi-24s flew over the blazing city. The helicopters fired at the rebel forces in an attempt to clear the landing zone. Three of the choppers touched down, and three squads of eight men rushed out into the streets. The helicopters hovered above them, providing support to the forces on the ground.

Captain Casimir Barynuk’s squad pushed down an alley, driving a group of rebels further into the city. Further off the thunder of tank shells and artillery could be heard. Casimir led his men into an apartment building. They worked their way up the stairs, eliminating the rebels that had entrenched there.

Casimir noticed a difference in the rebels here, compared to those in the east. These men seemed to have at least a basic knowledge of warfare. They were also at least partially organize. This fight would not be the straightforward battle that Ruse was.

Casimir moved his squads out into the street in time to watch one of the Mi-24s transform into a fireball as it was hit by a Rocket propelled grenade. The rebel who had fired the rocket disappeared down an alleyway. Casimir followed the man, but was met by machine gun fire in the alley. He pressed himself against the wall, and tossed a grenade around the corner. There was an explosion and a scream. He moved his men onward, securing their foothold.

The tanks had broken through the city’s outer defenses, and secured a large, urban beachhead. More armored personnel carriers moved into the secured area, and deployed the infantry. The soldiers followed the tanks and helicopters towards the city’s mayoral mansion. Several miles away Mig-31 interceptors scrambled to provide air cover.

I have two questions for you, GE:

1)What's your country's climate?

2)Could you please RP some rebels running into some of my men? They're hungry for battle. Thanks.

"We're from Doomingsland, you know, the guys who caught that dude Ulrich for you...twice. We plan on providing training and weapons to your men. I'm Captain Doom," he said extending his hand.

"Anatol Baranof," said the General, shaking the man's hand.

"Most of my men are ex Imperial soldiers. We can do without the training, but the cities nearby are full of civilian militia. They won't stand a chance when the communists get there. Perhaps we could help them?"

I have two questions for you, GE:

1)What's your country's climate?

2)Could you please RP some rebels running into some of my men? They're hungry for battle. Thanks.

1) climate: temperate region, cold winter, cool summers, meditteranean influence in southern Bulgaria

2) rp your men landing at the port of Burgas, and i'll handle the rest.

"General Eastmoreland, Burgas Port is straight ahead."

"Splendid," Eastmoreland said, grinning. "I love the smell of war. Such a soothing aroma...it calms my soul, eases my mind, relaxes m- What're you apes, lookin' at, get back to work!"

"Y-Y-Yes, sir!"

As the ships rolled into the port, the soldiers double-checked their weapons to make sure they were fully loaded, and Eastmoreland had all his men assemble in an orderly fashion to ensure that they would be prepared the instant they reached the shore.

As they approached the shore, they were greeted by the stench of gunpowder and the sound of explosions...

Port Burgas

The battle in the Port city was raging. The armies of the Republic had moved forcefully down the coast. City after city had fallen to their encroaching armies. The tip of the spear was now lodged in this large Port City, the loyalist's only link to supplies from across the Black sea. The plumes of smoke rose high, and drifted over the water. The Imperial garrison in this city had taken its stance against Zadaprushki's new reign. These men were not the rag tag militia of Ruse and Pleven. They were battle hardened warriors, tested in battle. The republican forces found stiff competition in these men.

The Mig-27s screamed over the docks, bombing the rebel emplacements. The docks were the key to victory for the rebels. They were the lifeline to supply, and reinforcement. As the forces from Roach Busters poured off of the transports into the area, a gritty, battle weary soldier ran up to their commanding officer. He offered a ragged salute and spoke:

"Captain Pyotr Karolik at you service. The General told us to expect you. Welcome to Port Burgas."

A fuel truck exploded 20 yards behind him, sending a pillar of flame into the sky.

"There's your welcoming commitee. Hope your ready for some action."

Captain Karolik, crouched, and ran off to join the fight.

Port Burgas

The battle in the Port city was raging. The armies of the Republic had moved forcefully down the coast. City after city had fallen to their encroaching armies. The tip of the spear was now lodged in this large Port City, the loyalist's only link to supplies from across the Black sea. The plumes of smoke rose high, and drifted over the water. The Imperial garrison in this city had taken its stance against Zadaprushki's new reign. These men were not the rag tag militia of Ruse and Pleven. They were battle hardened warriors, tested in battle. The republican forces found stiff competition in these men.

The Mig-27s screamed over the docks, bombing the rebel emplacements. The docks were the key to victory for the rebels. They were the lifeline to supply, and reinforcement. As the forces from Roach Busters poured off of the transports into the area, a gritty, battle weary soldier ran up to their commanding officer. He offered a ragged salute and spoke:

"Captain Pyotr Karolik at you service. The General told us to expect you. Welcome to Port Burgas."

A fuel truck exploded 20 yards behind him, sending a pillar of flame into the sky.

"There's your welcoming commitee. Hope your ready for some action."

Captain Karolik, crouched, and ran off to join the fight.

I have a (dumb) question: Were those friends, or foes...?

I have a (dumb) question: Were those friends, or foes...?

((OOC: The rebels are loyalists to the emperor, who is dead. They oppose the reign of Sandor Zadaprushki. They are the one's who are defending Port Burgas. Captain Karolik is a rebel soldier. The republic is attacking the port. I suspect you are supporting the rebels.))

bump

((OOC: The rebels are loyalists to the emperor, who is dead. They oppose the reign of Sandor Zadaprushki. They are the one's who are defending Port Burgas. Captain Karolik is a rebel soldier. The republic is attacking the port. I suspect you are supporting the rebels.))

Phew, sorry for the long delay. You are correct, the rebels are the ones we support.

Er, GE, I take back what I said earlier about the trillion dollars being wired to the government. I meant to wire it to the rebels.

Er, GE, I take back what I said earlier about the trillion dollars being wired to the government. I meant to wire it to the rebels.

((OOC: No prob. Im going to post something tomorrow.))

Casimir watched the rebels in the town square from the shadows of the alley. They were well fortified, with several emplaced machine guns, three technicals, rocket propelled grenades, snipers on the roves of nearby buildings, and a ZSU-23-4 anti aircraft gun. The ZSU would eliminate the possibility for air support, and until it was gone, Casimir’s men would be on their own. Casimir watched an unwitting Mi-24 enter the square, only to be cut to shred by the ZSU. The craft fell from the sky, landing on top of one of the technicals. The rebel soldiers scrambled to help their wounded compatriots. Casimir saw his chance. He charged into the square, catching the rebels off guard. He fired at the gunners on the remaining two technicals, and eliminated the fixed machine gun emplacements. The remaining rebels saw that the square was lost and retreated down another street, only to come running back, pursued by a T-72 tank. Casimir and his men gunned down the fleeing soldiers. He called for a radio.

“We have secured the northeast section of the city. Repeat, northeast quarter is secure. Anti air defenses have been disabled. We have captured a ZSU.”

“Good work, Captain. We are sending reinforcements via helicopter to take control of the square. Proceed towards the mayoral palace to link up with other units in the area.”

((OOC: No prob. Im going to post something tomorrow.))

So, you're turning in for the night? See you tomorrow.

The paratroopers had landed in a field. In the distance they could see "false sunrises" tht are usually created by artillery barrages, they could hear the booming of the guns. They could hear the rata-tat-tat of machine guns. They got in formation and began too march towards the "false sunrises".

Pleven-
Southwest district

Captain Barynuk moved his men cautiously down a deserted street. The tank behind them offered at least a small sense of security. They were closing in on the fortified mayoral palace. If they could take that, the rebels would most likely surrender or retreat, and the day would go tot he republic. Casimir turned down an alley that cut across into the next street. He looked down the street, seeing a building with a portrait of President Zadaprushki draped through one of the windows. He moved his team towards it. He went inside. The republican forces had turned the building into a field headquarters of sort. There were weapons and ammunition stacked along the wall, and a radio buzzed with reports from other parts of the city. An officer approached Casimir.

"Captain, good to see you got here in one piece. We'll need you for this next bit. We're massing our forces across the city for the final assault on the mayoral palace. It is the last true rebel stronghold in this city. If we take it, the rest of Pleven will be ours. As colonel Alexandrof is incapacitated, I am putting you in charge of the assault. I trust it will succeed."

Captain Barynuk saluted.
"By all means colonel."

"Good. Our forces are waiting. Just give the order," said the colonel.

Across the city, the republican forces massed around the southeastern portion of the city, waiting for the order to finish the job.

"Anatol Baranof," said the General, shaking the man's hand.

"Most of my men are ex Imperial soldiers. We can do without the training, but the cities nearby are full of civilian militia. They won't stand a chance when the communists get there. Perhaps we could help them?"

"Sounds like a good plan, have them report to me, we'll begin training immediatly. Also, we have lots of weapons to supply you with, do you have any vehilcles?"

"Sounds like a good plan, have them report to me, we'll begin training immediatly. Also, we have lots of weapons to supply you with, do you have any vehilcles?"

"I'll have my men round up some of the militias, and bring them here. About vehicles, we have a few pickup trucks and an old ZSU, but other than that, nothing."

Could you please RP the enemy running into some of my troops? My men are thirsty for combat.

"Good, we'll show you where to pick the weapons up. I'll order more men down here." he motions to the radioman.
"This is Charlie one, red dog, repeat red dog."
"Confirmed. The boys are on their way."

"One of my men will show your drivers the way to our camp, we have a good amount of weapons. Mostly AK74s and varients, but we have some mortars and stingers. I think we have enough RPG18s to equip every man here with one in adition to his rifle."

Could you please RP the enemy running into some of my troops? My men are thirsty for combat.

((OOC: Your men are at the docks which are under attack. I figured that counted as running into the enemy.))

OOC: My most sincere apologies, GE, for being so late. Unforseen circumstances, y'see. I'm just going to go straight to deploying blokes, as I've missed the bit where everyone realises what's going on.

IC:
The light was green, the door was open, and Koch was running. He leapt from the ramp into the cold sky. Below him was field after field of farmland. After a second or so, Koch opened his parachute and was jerked forwards, before drifting to the ground.
He hit the mud at a slow speed, but still enough to knock him down. Koch stood, unclipped his chute, unshouldered his rifle, and set off to find the rest of his squad.

OOC: Right. Only a few blokes to start with. 1 company of Waffen-SS Marines(199), The Elite of the Elite, under the command of HauptSturmführer Brenner, and currently somewhere in rural Generia. Just imagine a Germanic version of the Royal Marines. They carry semi-automatic H&K G3A4's (w/40mm Grenade Launcher), chambered for the 7.92x44 NAS round. Anti-tank being the Panzerschreck '02 (135mm RPG), SAW being the H&K MG95 (Also fires 7.92x44 NAS), and sidearm being H&K .45in Mk23 SOCOM.

OOC: My most sincere apologies, GE, for being so late. Unforseen circumstances, y'see. I'm just going to go straight to deploying blokes, as I've missed the bit where everyone realises what's going on.

IC:
The light was green, the door was open, and Koch was running. He leapt from the ramp into the cold sky. Below him was field after field of farmland. After a second or so, Koch opened his parachute and was jerked forwards, before drifting to the ground.
He hit the mud at a slow speed, but still enough to knock him down. Koch stood, unclipped his chute, unshouldered his rifle, and set off to find the rest of his squad.

OOC: Right. Only a few blokes to start with. 1 company of Waffen-SS Marines(199), The Elite of the Elite, under the command of HauptSturmführer Model, and currently somewhere in rural Generia. Just imagine a Germanic version of the Royal Marines.

((OOC: Check your tgs, I outlined whos fighting who.))

An hour later, a squad of Doom Legionaires arrived at the rebel camp. The militia men had been assembled.
"Let's get started."
Training began in the woods, mainly combat training, but physical training was also used. The men were given extensive marksmanship training, and were assinged squad leaders. This was only day one of the training.

ooc: Incase you havn't guessed already, my guys are basicly Green Berets with a cooler name.

Presidential Palace, Generia City

A man dressed in a military uniform entered the office of PresidentZadaprushki.

"What do you have for me, General Mostovich," asked the President.

"Your war goes well, your excellency. The provinces are falling under the weight of our soldiers. The garrison at Pleven is almost ready to fall, and our men in Port Burgas will soon have the docks under their control. Soon we will ber eady to march on Sofia, and unify your nation."

"Excellent. Make sure things stay this way General. I will not let my people defy me."

The General left, leaving Zadaprushki to his thoughts. He turned, looking at the large map of the empire on the wall behind him.

"It is all mine," he said, nearly drooling. He picked up a jeweled ring that had belonged to the late emeror, and slid it on his finger. He laughed in the fading light. Absolute power had begun to take its toll on the man's ideals.

OOC:I assume that Generians dont speak Russian.

A bunch of rebel gaurds stood... well, gaurd. They looked out, alert. Then they heard it, voices. Then pairs of glowing red eyes began too appear. The rebels frightened raised their weapons as the Red Tide paratroopers stepped into view. The rebels werent sure what too do. Then one of the paratroopers stepped forward. This was a officer, disitinguishible from the ordinary soldiers by their gas masks looks(which look like a robots face... unlike the metal standard issue gasmask), the fact that their eyes glowed yellow instead of red, and the officers body armor was bigger and heavier looking than the soldiers. The officer spoke, "Brigadier General 723, Meatpuppet model 2, I wish too speak too the commanding officer of this camp. You are the loyalists who support the emporer... right?"

OOC:Before you ask, no. None of Red Tides soldiers or officers have names(but you dont know that yet).

"All Black Ops, form a large perimiter around the Palace!" Talbitt screamed over the com. "Defense formation Alpha Tango Tango Beta. Two lines of defense, then the bulk in or on palace grounds!
"Roger, sir, thought you should know, 50 down, 20 wounded."
"Damn! They're good! Almost too good. But we're better!" Find any anti-air you can, and what happened to the Blackhawks? Last I heard, they were picking at the artilery emplacement. Should be lightly defended, they won't expect air-to-ground."

Pleven-
Government district

The tanks rumbled over the ruined streets, guns blazing in the dusk. The infantry swarmed over the city like ants, bursting into buildings, and raising the flag of the republic over them. The army neared the blockade in front of the mayoral palace. Rebel machine gun emplacements opened up, cutting into the waves of republican soldiers. A rebel lifted an RPG-7 on his shoulder, and fired over the low concrete barrier. The missile rammed into a T-80 tank, creating a fireball in the gathering darkness. A sniper took aim from a rooftop, and as he pulled the trigger, a bullet found itself buried in the chest of the man who had fired the rocket.

A tank approached the barrier, and crushed it as it rolled over, sending rebel soldiers fleeing before the flaming menace of machine guns and cannon. The republican infantry flooded over the barrier, thrusting their bayonets into the defending soldiers. Casimir drew a saber from his belt, and waved his men on.

"Onward! Into the palace! Death to the enemies of the republic!" he yelled, his voice disappearing into the noise of war.

The men charged up the stone steps of the palace. A tank fired, blowing the door open, leaving a gaping wound for the men to pour into. A man reared up before Casimir, threatening to bayonet him. Casimir swung the saber, lopping the rebel's head off. The soldiers swarmed through the building, with Captain Barynuk leading the charge up the grand staircase. A bullet penetrated into his hsoulder. He clutched his hand to the wound, then hefted his sword, and contiinued the charge. The army reached the door to the mayor's personal office. The soldiers kicked in the door, revealing an empty room. A draft blew through the room, causing the elegant curtains to flutter. Casimir looked to the source of the breeze; a large, man sized hole in the plate glass window. He walked over to the shattered glass, and looked down at the street. A body lay crumpled on the top of a car below. The mayor had apparently taken his own life.

The soldiers hauled the flag of the empire down from the pole on top of the building, and replaced it with the makeshift flag of the republic. The soldiers in the street cheered and hurled their helmets in the air.

OOC:I assume that Generians dont speak Russian.

A bunch of rebel gaurds stood... wel, gaurd. They looked out, alert. Then they heard it, voices. They werent Generian, thats for sure. Then pairs of glowing red eyes began too appear. The rebels frightened raised their weapons as the Red Tide paratroopers stepped into view. The rebels werent sure what too do. Then one of the paratroopers stepped forward. This was a officer, disitinguishible from the ordinary soldiers by their gas masks looks(which look like a robots face... unlike the metal standard issue gasmask), the fact that their eyes glowed yellow instead of red, and the officers body armor was bigger and heavier looking than the soldiers. The officer spoke in Generian with a resonable accent, "Brigadier General 723, Meatpuppet model 2, I wish too speak too the commanding officer of this camp. You are the loyalists who support the emporer... right?"

OOC:Before you ask, no. None of Red Tides soldiers or officers have names(but you dont know that yet).

((OOC: Russian is the native tongue.))

OOC:Okay I will edit it.

Perfect...NOW! Buildings all around the palace erupted with volleys of gunfire and stinger missiles headed toward the enemy armor. "430 of us are left, and dammit, I'll see you in hell if another man falls!" screamed Talbitt as Republic troops and tanks alike were sent running as the withering blanket of death never once ceased. Most of them had thrown away their helmets in celebration, just what Talbitt wanted: plenty of headshots.

The squadrons of Mig-27s streaked in over the government district. They were going to fry the city, no matter who was in it. The first wave of aircraft released their unguided explosive bombs. A second wave came in, raining incendiary bombs on the men.

On the ground the republican forces scrambled to get out of the area around the destroyed mayoral hall. Casimir jumped atop a tank, heading north. The soldiers ran to APCs and climbed in as the bombs began to fall. The flames caught a good number of them, as the fast ones narrowly avoided the explosions.

A flight of Mig-21s flew in low, strafing the positions of the enemy soldiers.

"Everyone, you know the escape plan! To the sewers!"
All Black Ops scrambled down the nearest manhole they could find.
Now in the sewers of Pleven.
Talbitt:What's our status?
Black Ops Trooper:Heavy casulties, sir. We lost our wounded and sustained 50 more KIAs. Total's 120.
Talbitt:Damn! We're down, but far from out. Mobilize to the nearest village. We've got to warn them! MOVE!
The stealthy Black Ops made their escape and set out via the sewer system and known blueprints, to the next rebel town.
OOC:You need to calculate the casulties sustained with the ambush. They had no head protection, remember.

Total Plevan Casualties in brief-
Republican- 226
Rebel- 123, 93% casualties

The garrison and republican army were each relatively small.

Hours later at the next Rebel town.
Talbitt came out of the manhole to find a gunmuzzle in his face. When looked at the uniform he immediately recognized it.
"Doomingsland," he muttered.

"Drop it!" yelled Pvt. Sheridan. He had been on a routine patrol through the nearby village, and saw the manhole open.
"I said drop it!" he said, staring down the red dot sight of his XM8.

Talbitt:Easy, you obviously need another trip to boot camp, grunt. You don't recognize Ruthless Slaughter when you see it? Anyway, there's not much time. We came from Pleven, not more than a few miles away. We were forced to fall back, there was too many and we're down a fifth of our starting force. We have Blackhawks en route that should arrive shortly. I hope you have a lot of anti-air, cause you'll need it.
As he said this, the remaining 380 Black Ops came out of the sewer.

Alberia, Northwestern province of the Republic-

General Laszlo Riasonovski stared off of the balcony of the confiscated manor home at the wide expanse of open farmlands.

"Its a goddamn backwater, sergeant, that's what this place is. Can't believe they stationed me out here in this cow country. I've fought in three wars! Three! And they station me out here. It's a f****ng disgrace, that's what this is."


"Aye, I know what you mean gen'ral. Filthy republic 'inks they ca' sen' us where'er they wan' to. Not a chance for some action out in this country."

"Well, at least its comfortable out here. Damn republic..."

The general walked off muttering, leaving the sergeant alone with his bottle of scotch.

OOC:Just how big is the communists' army?

The grunt looked at the RS soldier in annyoance.
Bootcamp? Who the hell does this maggot think he is?
"You're not wearing standard RS BDUs, for all I know, you could've been a commie assualt team." he radioed what had happened to his captain, and in 5 minutes, six more SFs arrived along with the captain.

"Ah, finally, I hope you can clear this up. Commander James Talbitt, RS Black Ops. *offers hand* Good to see friendly- *is interrupted by the sound of rotors as 50 or so Blackhawk helicopters land. All have the RS Gold Eagle on the right side.* Ah, they arrived, good. We now have somewhat of an advantage."

"Captain Lucifer Doom, Doom Legion," he said shaking his hand. "We're in the process of training the local militia, we plan on reinforcing Sofia when it's attacked.

Talbitt:Well, the cavalry's arrived. I only regret we couldn't hold Pleven... There were just so many, and they called in napalm, leaving even their soldiers to fend for themselves. It's like a wounded animal..

"Huh, that sucks. My camps about 20 klicks north of this position, and the rebel camp is closer. I'll introduce you to their commander." they set off toward the rebel camp.

On the way, Talbitt spoke up,"Nice place, now about the AA, how much of it have you got?"

"The reb's have got an old ZSU, and we got a bunch of stingers. More than enough to deal with what the commies are using."

OOC:I assume that Generians dont speak Russian.

A bunch of rebel gaurds stood... well, gaurd. They looked out, alert. Then they heard it, voices. Then pairs of glowing red eyes began too appear. The rebels frightened raised their weapons as the Red Tide paratroopers stepped into view. The rebels werent sure what too do. Then one of the paratroopers stepped forward. This was a officer, disitinguishible from the ordinary soldiers by their gas masks looks(which look like a robots face... unlike the metal standard issue gasmask), the fact that their eyes glowed yellow instead of red, and the officers body armor was bigger and heavier looking than the soldiers. The officer spoke, "Brigadier General 723, Meatpuppet model 2, I wish too speak too the commanding officer of this camp. You are the loyalists who support the emporer... right?"

OOC:Before you ask, no. None of Red Tides soldiers or officers have names(but you dont know that yet).

OOC:Reply... anyone?

((OOC: Your men are at the docks which are under attack. I figured that counted as running into the enemy.))

Sorry for the delay; here you go, I hope this is all right:

General Eastmoreland loved the chorus of gunfire, the aroma of gunpowder, and the pleasant sight of his enemies' blood soaking the ground. He had anticipated a swift and easy battle. The opposite occurred. Literally the split second the troops reached the dock, a flurry of bullets zoomed through the air, blasting holes in many of the men and causing their bodies to crumple to the ground, wallowing in their own gore. A series of grenades flew at them as if from out of nowhere.
Severed limbs, decapitated heads, and internal organs splattered everywhere. The sound of gunfire was nearly deafening as the RB troops and the enemy exchanged shots. Smoke filled the air and the ground shook tumultuously with the force of the impact as RB helicopters napalmed the area. Many RB soldiers were scorched to ashes by friendly fire. Still, they were determined to fight till the end, for their homeland and their ally. The odor of blood in the air was appalling, and caused many men to vomit; their nausea proved fatal in many cases. While momentarily distracted by their abdominal discomfort, their guard was down significantly, and thus many of them succumbed to the enemies' continuous barrage of bullets.
Within minutes, a tiny little brushfire-skirmish had exploded into an all-out battle of epic proportions...

How was that?

1)Great!
2)Good
3)Okay
4)Bad
5)Terrible!

NOTE: That was a small battallion of about 5,000 troops. In total, there are about 10,000,000 troops either in Generia or on their way there.

OOC:Reply... anyone?

Sorry, my men are still occupied at the docks.

Ulrich was drifting. He felt his body floating through time and space. Old friends, acquaintences, enemies drifted before his eyes. He knew them all, but he did not know them. Names mixed into each other creating a tangle from which he could not free himself. He reached out to touch the face of a brother he never had. The face dissipated into the liquid that surrounded him. He tried to breath, but he could never seem to fill his lungs, and yet still he managed to extract oxygen. Suddenly the faces dissapeared. A form appeared before him. He was overcome with extreme anger towards the shadowy form. He tried to punch the man, and in his mind he could see his fist connect with the face, but his physical being would not obey. His limbs remained motionless. His eyes gained temporary clarity, and he looked down to his arms and legs. He tried to will the long, black serpents to disconnect from him. He felt that if the tubes were gone, he would gain control of himself again. His limbs shifted out of focus, and he beheld the green liquid that his body was submerged in. He tried to yell, but the tube in his throat blocked the sound. His eyes shifted their focus once more, and he could see the face of the shadowy form with absolute clarity. The man was old, but clean shaven. His lips moved, but Ulrich heard no sound. The man's hands made contact with the liquid, but the man did not feel it. Ulrich's focus shifted, and he could tell that there was glass separating him from the form. The man moved his hands across the glass. He reached for something outside of Ulrich's view. Ulrich tried to move his head, but his neck would not respond. He felt every muscle in his body relax, and the momentary clarity vanished, to be replaced by the visions from earlier.

Alberia

They were clothed in black, and they moved catlike over the fields in the moonlit night. The manor home reared up before them, majestic and imposing in the still air. The steel of their blades was clothed in black, to prevent any glare, and they carried their rifles on their backs.

The shadows surrounded the house in silence, splitting into three groups. There was a guard on the porch. One of the phantoms moved up behind him, silently burying a knife in the back of his neck. The body was disposed of, no trace of the guard ever being there.

The second group made their wat to the side of the house. One of the phantoms threw a hook up to a balcony. The shadows scaled the wall, and stood on tjhe platform, observing the soldier passed out in the room beyond, an empty bottle of whiskey on the floor next to him. One of the shadows moved forward, quickly dispatching the man.

The third group made their way to the rear of the house. There was a staircase leading to a cellar. The men moved down the stairs. The three soldiers inside were unaware of their impending doom. The four phantoms drew pistols from their cloaks. The three soldiers were dead before they had time to scream, the silent bullets burying themselves in their throats.

The first team made its way through the front door, to find a grand staircase, and several surprised guards. The team drew their assault rifles, gunning down the soldiers. The racket had awoken the rest of the small garrison in the building. The men upstairs rushed towards the staircase, to be met by the second team, brandishing their sabers. The heads of the guards parted wth their bodies, and roled down the hall, blood trailing after them.

In his room General Riasonovski cowered in his bed. Outside he heard the noise of gunfire, and battle.

Downstairs, the third team had made its way into the holding pen for Alberian prisoners of war. The shadows eliminated the two guards, and set the prisoners free, handing them the guard's rifles. They rushed to join the fight upstairs.

The first and second teams stood outside the General's bedroom door. One of the men kicked the door in, to be blown baway by a hail of 50 calibur bullets. The blood sprayed from his chest. The assasins poured in, swords drawn, as the General heard the terrifying 'click' of dry firing. One of the assasins thrusted his sword fdoprward, and the general looked down to see the blade buried in his abdomen. He looked up just in time to see a second blade swinging towards his neck.

The assasins held the general's head in the air by the hair, and let out a tremendous yell.

"Freedom to Alberia!"

OOC:Ok, so the assasins were from the rebels, or the commies?

After several days of intense training, the militia was ready for action. They where assinged the title of "1st Free Imperial Guards". They would soon engage in guerilla warfare against enemy forces.

Talbitt: Well, if those commies are coming, they couldn't have picked a better time. We're here, and we're ready. :mp5:

OOC:Ok, so the assasins were from the rebels, or the commies?

((OOC: rebels.))

OOC:You can use the militia to conduct guerrilla warfare, I'm done training them. Mind if I assasinate the president?

OOC:So I gather some Generic Empire Spec Ops made it through the purge.

IC:Talbitt:I figure we'll get the Blackhawks to patrol a few miles away from the city. They can sweep the area, see if the commies want to focus their wrath on other rebs before heading here.

OOC:So I gather some Generic Empire Spec Ops made it through the purge.

((OOC: The 'phantoms' weren't spec ops. They were just very talented rebels. There's a backstory to that. Id give you the link, but it got lost in the move to jolt. Basically, Generia has had problems with Alberia before, so the rebels know what they're doing.))

OOC: Impressive either way. They really took it to that general. :mp5:
(I figured out how to make the little machine gun guy!)

A squad of Doom Legionaires were about to ambush a convoy of Commies.

The convoy had 3 Urals escorted by 6 UAZs, and 2 BRDM2s. Anti-tank mines had been placed on the road an hour before. The convoy was passing through. The lead vehicle drove over the mine and was blown apart. The rest of the men opened fire with AT4s and rifles. There was an M240 team with them.

OOC:I know its not my best post, but I'm not feeling creative at the moment.

Back in Sofia, an explosion was heard.
Talbitt: The hell was that? Everyone, battlestations! You know what that was, Doom?

Back in Sofia, an explosion was heard.
Talbitt: The hell was that? Everyone, battlestations! You know what that was, Doom?
OOC:Wrong city, we're in a random village 60 miles east of Sofia. The village would be to far away from the ambush sight to hear anything. Besides, the camp is about 10 kilometers north of the city.

Pleven, Republic controlled city

The soldiers picked through the ruins of the mayoral palace. Occasionally, one of the men would jump, statled, as his bayonet hit the meat of a scorched comrade, buried under the stone. The flag of the republic fluttered occasionally on the pole in the center of the city. Except for an occasional flyover, the day was quiet.

General Bronislaw Ligachev had set up a headquarters in a government building a few blocks from the city center. He looked at a map of the southern empire spread out on a table.

"I think we should strike Botevgrad as soon as possible. We need to keep the pressure on before these fools get organised. If we can move tomorrow we will be that much closer to Sofia, and once Sofia falls, the provinces will be forced to accept our government."

General Dimka Yaroslav leaned against the wall, cigar in mouth, contemplating the General's plan.

"You underestimate their resolve, Bronislaw. These men fought more viciously than any rebels I have ever seen. It was as bad if not worse than Cecnya here today. I suspect they are also recieving outside help. The Emperor had many friends in the international community. I would not be surprised. No, I would not be surprised..."

"Who's side are you on Dimka! These men are traitors to the new republic!"

"Of course I'm on your side, my old friend, but sometimes I wonder if Zadaprushki knows what he's doing here."

"I will not have that treasonous talk in my presence!"

"No, I meant nothing of it, friend. Just thinking out loud. We will move at dawn. I'll have my men meet you in Lukovit."

"Excellent."

"I must leave to see to it. I'll see you in Botevgrad. To Sofia, General."

"To Sofia."

General Yaroslav left the building to board a wating Mi-24 bound for his army's camp several miles away.

The Empire of Doomingsland officialy condemns the criminal communists rebel government in Generia. Relinquish power immediatly, or be destroyed.

With that said, forces where secrectly mobilized for an invasion.

Stuff being mobilised-

1st Armor
2nd Armor
3rd Armor
1st Infantry
2nd Infantry
1st Marines
3rd Carrier Battle Group

Division Stats-
Infantry-
10,000 men
300 M2/3A3
300 M1A2 SEP
1000 HMMWV
200 M109A6
90 M6
10 AH64

Armor-
1000 M1A2 SEP
1000 M2/3A3
400 Crusader
300 M270 MLRS
XXX HMMWV
10,000 men
30 AH64

Marine-
500 M1A2 SEP
500 LAV-25
100 Crusader
1000 HMMWV
20,000 Marines
50 AH1W

Carrier Battle Group-
10 Seawolf
2 Nimitz
1 Yorktown
8 Ticonderoga
10 Oliver Hazzard Perry
6 Arleigh Burke

The fleet is several NS days away.

Unknown Location

Ulrich was brutally awakened from his false slumber by a searing pain that ricocheted around his head. His eyes shot open, and he felt as though flames were leaping from his sockets. The green liqueous mass that surrounded his body slowly began to drain, and he was rocketed back into a state of semi-coherence. He could see the men standing before him. He could not recall if his vision had always been in black and white, or if it was unnatural to not be able to see color.

He felt that the long coats the men wore should be white, but he could not remember. As he searched his mind, he found that he could not remember much. His brain seemed so empty. He could recall selective things, such as how to speak if he wanted to, and how to utilize his various motor skills. He knew he was not incapacitated. Strangely, he found, as he racked his brain, he knew how to do other things. Things he was not sure if he used to be able to do. For example, he knew exactly how to dismantle a semi-automatic pistol. He also knew exactly how to dispose of the weapon to prevent the authorities from finding it. However, he did not know why he knew these things, why they would ever apply to him.

He tried to lift his arm, and found that he could, with a small amount of muscular pain. Strangely, he knew exactly which muscle was causing him pain, where it was in his body, and how to best disable it. In his mind, he could clearly see a diagram of the human muscular system. He knew it perfectly, along with every internal organ, bone, and nerve.

He moved his hand to the glass in front of him. He saw that there were holes in his arm, but no blood poured from them. The glass began to move. It disappeared into the bottom of the tube he was standing in. One of the men approached him, and extended a hand. Ulrich was unsure of the man.

"It's all right. Let me help you out of there."

Ulrich allowed the man to help him from the tube. His legs felt shaky, and his flesh tingled.

"You will feel a bit unsteady for a few moments. That is perfectly normal," said the man who had helped him out of the tube. "My name is Dr. Habart. You may trust me. I mean you no harm. On the contrary, I seek only to give you great gifts."

Ulrich looked the man over. His mind told him that the man spoke the truth. There was a small part of him, however, that screamed the contrary, but that voice was miniscule, and Ulrich trusted the words of the man. The others in the room looked very similar tot he first man. They watched Ulrich with interest, and spoke in whispers to one another. Ulrich knew that the men were speaking inaudibly, but yet he heard every word of their conversations. He found that if he focused his ears, he could hear anything he wanted to.

"..do you think it succeeded?...I don't know...he certainly looks the same...no, no he doesn't...the eyes look at the eyes..and the figure...so much more robust..."

The first man who had addressed Ulrich spoke to the others.

"Gentlemen, success!"

The others applauded, and the man bowed deeply. The man spoke again.

"I give you the result of project Isis. Number 11, or as I like to call him, Abraham."

The scientists spoke exitedly to one another. Abraham had gathered that they were scientists, and that he was in some sort of laboratory. He felt a sense of comfort, as he looked around. It felt like home to him.

"Well Abraham, I suppose that you are eager to begin your trials."

Abraham did not respond, but the man took it as a yes.

"Come then. We haven't a moment to lose."

Doom Citidel-

A group of twelve men walked the halls to the Great Hall. Their leader threw open the doors, revealing the ancient room. It was decorated with thousands of skulls, those of slain enemies of Doomingsland. A large, muscular-looking man sat upon a throne.

"Gentelmen, you are gathered here to perform a momentous task." Emporer Helldawg said to the men assembled before him. They were the Reapers, the same men responsible for capturing Ulrich. They where decked out in full combat gear.

"You are to kill a man known as Ulrich. He was a plague to the Earth, and must be exterminated. As far as we know, he is still in the maximum security prison where the previous government left him, but we can't be sure. With a new government in place, Ulrich's imprisonment cannot be trusted to Generia. Find and kill Ulrich. That is all."

The men bowed before their Emporer, and departed to Generia.

"We should have killed him when we had the chance," remarked Sgt. O'niel.

"I agree, but this damn political BS got in the way. We'll have our vegeance this time." responded Lt. Shephard.
The men walked up the ramp of a waiting C17. The aircraft took off and headed to Generia without incedent.

The Empire of Doomingsland officialy condemns the criminal communists rebel government in Generia. Relinquish power immediatly, or be destroyed.

With that said, forces where secrectly mobilized for an invasion.

Stuff being mobilised-

1st Armor
2nd Armor
3rd Armor
1st Infantry
2nd Infantry
1st Marines
3rd Carrier Battle Group

Division Stats-
Infantry-
10,000 men
300 M2/3A3
300 M1A2 SEP
1000 HMMWV
200 M109A6
90 M6
10 AH64

Armor-
1000 M1A2 SEP
1000 M2/3A3
400 Crusader
300 M270 MLRS
XXX HMMWV
10,000 men
30 AH64

Marine-
500 M1A2 SEP
500 LAV-25
100 Crusader
1000 HMMWV
20,000 Marines
50 AH1W

Carrier Battle Group-
10 Seawolf
2 Nimitz
1 Yorktown
8 Ticonderoga
10 Oliver Hazzard Perry
6 Arleigh Burke

The fleet is several NS days away.

President Zadaprushki read the declaration from Doomingsland.

"Criminal! Outrageous! This is rediculous, disgusting, vile talk! How dare they! No I will not relinquish power to these barbarians! The revolution was the will of the people!"

Vice President Andrej Rabinovich stood in the corner of the room, bathed in shadow, the only light coming from his lit cigarette.

"Not all of the people, Sandor. You forget the reason for our war in the south."

"Those men are traitors! They are not even men!"

"Still, they do not support you or your revolution."

"Do you defy me? Do you defy your president, Andrej? Do you!"

Sandor whipped a pistol off of his desk and aimed it at Andrej's heart.

"Tell me you defy me! Tell me!" he yelled, enraged.

Andrej calmly pulled on his cigarette, paying little attention tot he weapon or the President's anger.

"You won't shoot me, Sandor. You know I speak the truth. Put the gun away. We will handle this."

The rage melted from Sandor's face. He replaced the gun on his desk.

"You know me too well, friend. Tell them we will not give in to threats."

"Of course, Mr. Presdient," Andrej said sarcastically. He turned and left the room, leaving Zadaprushki to his thoughts, and the bottle of vodka under his desk.

OOC:Very well, at a camp near Sofia, couldn't have heard explosion, got it.
IC:Talbitt:I just recieved word from R.L. himself. *at this the other Black Ops looked with surprise* He's outraged about the losses and condemns the communists as insane to destroy their own people to get to us. More of a compliment, actually, that we're good enough for them to sacrifice their own just to get a few of us. Anyway, he's secretely dispatching:
3000 M1A2 Abrams MBTs
the rest of the 500 Blackhawks that returned to base before
20,000 normal infantry
50 MIM-72/M48 Chapparals
to this location.
At this, most of the men geared up and comments such as ,"It's on!" or,"Payback!" could be heard.
Talbitt:Now, not so fast! They won't be here until tomorrow, so don't get all excited now. Save it for the commie bustin' soon to come.

In the briefing room on the DLS Helldawg-

"OK, these will be your various targets." Commander Robertson said pointing to various circles on a map of GE.
"The Marines are hitting the southern beaches to reinforce the rebs, we, as usual, are covering their asses. Our main job's gonna be to bust up their arties, and delay enemy reinforcements. We'll have a big escort of Tomcats, but I doubt we'll need 'em. Their RADAR's so primitive, they'll never see us coming. Now, Joker Squadron's gonna have the job of wasting the enemy command structure. We want two guys on the SAMs and triple A, one guy on the command vehicle, and the rest of 'em can go kill any targets of oportunity. Shark squadron will deal with the bridge here," he said pointing to a brigde on the map, "taking that down will effectivly cut off any reinforcements. We're gonna want 4 guys to stick behind to shoot up any bridge laying vehicles. Now, we're gonna have the arty spotted beforehand via sattleite and recon flights. The job of suppresing that will be givin to Viper Squadron. You are to concentrate on arty vehicles, and when you're finished with those, you can shoot up any targets of opportunity. Well, that's about it. Good luck. Dissmissed."

The pilots walked out of the briefing room quickly. They all had no fear of the mission ahead, partly because of their confidence in their aircraft and skills, and partly because they where incapable of fear...

Unknown Location

Day and night Abraham trained. His 'trials' were grueling physical and mental tasks, that occured round the clock. Abraham discovered that he did not need to sleep to regain his strength. He never seemed to get tired or experience energy loss. As he trained, the scientists that oversaw his trials explained to him the nature and specifics of his abilities. He learned to use his modified senses. He learned that he could see perfectly in light and dark. He could hear the drop of a pin from half a mile away. He could detect scents better than a doberman. His strength was amazing even to him. He could leap two stories, vertically, and withstand a fall from ten. His strength and speed were better than any of the scientist's expectations, and they told him.

Abraham went through weapons, engineering, and medical training, although he found he already knew most of what he was taught.

On the third day, Abraham found himself in a room separated from a viewing gallery by one way glass panelling. There was a single soldier, and two scientists in the room along with him. Dr. Habart stood on the other side of the mirror. He spoke to Abraham through a speaker system.

"Excellent, now Abraham, I want you to kill private Tarasof."

The soldier appeared shocked. He looked at the men behind the glass, who watched Abraham with interest. The soldier clumsily raised his rifle, but the experiment was already in front of him. Abraham pried the gun from the soldier's hands. The man squeezed off a shot, the bullet hitting Abraham in the lower abdomen. Abraham looked down at the wound, then placed his hands on either side of the soldier's head. He pressed inward. The man's face transformed as his head was crushed, the sound of his skull cracking sickeningly audible. The man's eye plopped from its socket, the optic nerve keeping it from falling to the floor. The man's skull gave way, and his head exploded like a ripe melon. The body fell, and Abraham turned to look at Dr. Habart.

"Good, good. Excellent job, Ulrich."

The two scientists were looking at each other nervously.

"Now pick up the man's knife."

Abraham did so.

"Excellent, now kill Dr. Rashovsni."

The scientist screamed, and ran to the window clawing at the glass, and crying for mercy. Abraham approached behind him, and slashed the man across the kidneys. He spun the scientist around, and his victim stared into the grey eyes with horror. Abraham opened the man's abdominal cavity with the knife, and ripped the digestive organs from the body. Abraham released the man, and the body slumped to the ground.

Dr, Habart chuckled over the loudspeaker.

"Perfect! Now Abraham, give the soldier's knife to Dr. Slakovski. Abraham handed the knife to the terrified man.

"Good. Dr. Slavoski, defend yourself."

The man got into an awkward fighting stance.

"Abraham, attack the good Dr, but do not kill him."

Abraham darted forward. The scientist slashed across Abraham's chest. Abraham grabbed the man's arms, forcing them backward. The snap of bone was hear, as the scientist screamed in agony. The man fell to the floor, his arms bent awkwardly behind his back.

Inside the viewing gallery, the scientists watched eagerly. A man rambled off the traits that he observed.

"Increased physical ability, extended knowledge of vital areas and weaknesses, increased desire for violence."

A section of wall slid open, and Dr. Habart stepped into the room, as the other scientist lay moaning on the floor. He approached Abraham, patting him on the back.

"Excellent work. For now, your trials are finished. You have done well."

Habart led Ulrich through the open section of wall, out of the viewing gallery, and down a long corridor.

Not even Talbitt knew that R.L. sent out an unknown force of 5 Firestorm class carriers,10 Hurricane class nuclear attack subs, and 30 Connery class battleships. They quickly caught up to the Doomingsland fleet. Captain Anthony Jameson of the carrier Hyperion looked at his charts.
Jameson:Hmm... I don't like this. Too risky.
R.L.*over the radio* I don't care how much you LIKE it, I want results. The battleships will take care of the shore installations, have the A10s start with the outermost targets and work their way in. Have the Raptors escort them all the way.
Jameson:Aye, sir. *closes channel* But I still don't like this.
OOC:If there's any question about A10s on carriers, I modified them a while ago strictly for carrying this type of aircraft along with escort fighters.

One the decks of the aircraft carriers- The F35s and F14s began taking off from the decks of the 3 carriers. There were 200 aircraft in the sky in under 30 minutes. Their destination: Generia. Joker squadron flew at mach 1.5 to its target, the command post. Joker one released a JDAM which was targetted at the enemy command vehicle. Joker's 2 and 3 fired HARMs at the local air defences. The rest of them, 17 F35s, flew about the area, firing Maverick missiles at tanks and strafing enemy personel carriers with their 20mm cannons. They where gone before the enemy could respond.

At the bridge, Shark Sqaudron went to work. Shark's one two and three released two JDAMs each, all of them targetting seperate areas of the brigde, completely destroying it. The others went trigger happy, shooting up tanks and AA as the previous squadron did. 2 of them remained, patroling at high altitude, ready to swoop down on any bridge laying vehicles.

At various atrilery sights, Viper Squadron fired Maverick missiles at enemy artilery vehicles, and strafed enemy howitzers with cannons.

F14s fired Pheonix missiles at enemy fighters in the vicinty of the targets.

In the end, 5 F35s were heavily damaged, and barley survived landing. 9 F14s where shot down, all of the pilots where killed.


Two hours later, the Marines hit the beaches.

Presidential palace, Generia City

Andrej walked into the room.

"It's happening, Sandor. It's a full scale invasion, now. If we don't act, there will be an army knocking at out door."

"I know. However, they underestimate us. It's time to bring out the big guns. Get our fighters in the air. We will maintain control of our airspace."

Across the nation, Sukhoi-27s and Sukhoi-37s scrambled into the air to engage the Doomingsland fighters, and bombard the enemy troop positions. The agile and deadly fighters would be a match for the enemy F-14s and 35s.

Botevgrad, 120 km south of Pleven

The Republican forces approached the city. This would be the last target before Sofia. The tanks rumbled across the plains towards the dirty alabaster walls of the city. Squadrons of Su-27s streaked overhead, to compliment the ever present Mi-24s. Several MLRS systems were deployed outside of the city, protected by AA missile sites, and divisions of armor and infantry. The artillery opened up on the city, the rockets streaking into the night. The explosions were brilliant. They were not new to the soldiers, but this did nothing to take away from their glorious beauty.

Captain Casimir Barynuk rode in the back of an APC as it rumbled over the land towards the city. He clutched his rifle, more out of anticipation than nervousness. His men were all veterans of the other battles, and would fight well for him today. As they neared the city, a rocket streaked towards the armored personnel carrier. The explsion threw Barynuk and his men from their seats. The gunner opened up on the city from the disabled vehicle. Captain Barynuk forced the door to the vehicle open, and his men streamed out into the night. He looked in awe at the city, lit by explosions, and flares. This was it. This was Botevgrad: stronghold of the old Imperium.

Where is the enemy mainly located? I'll deploy my troops there. (Don't forget, I have 10,000,000 of them in the country)

Port Burgas, rebel port city

The city was consumed with war. The republican forces had crashed upon the proverbial rocks that the port had become. The republic controlled the city, the rebels controlled the docks. They stood with their backs to the sea, and their guns trained on the horizon.

The sun crested the ridge, to shine its bloody light on the city. Republican soldiers charged the rebel positions, only to meet the reaper in the form of the blazing machine guns and artillery. Waves lapped on both sides of the docks, of water on one, and humanity on the other. The corpses of men and machine littered the trench covered expanse between the city outskirts, and the entrance to the port. Burned out tanks and helicopters provided slight cover for the advancing soldiers.

General Lew Dmitriev watched the battle from the top of an apartment building. He held his hand on his head to prevent his cap from blowing away in the wind. His steely eyes were still as he watched the proceedings.

"Damnit, why can't we break through?" he said to himself.

"They're dug in too damn deep, sir." replied an aid.

"I can see that, idiot," the General replied irritably. "How can I break you," he whispered to the distant enemy.

--00--

Captain Rurik Karolef crouched with his back to the wall of a trench, looking down the line of men on either side of him.

"Alright, we're next boys. Use your cover, watch the guns and the man in front of you, and get to the other damn side. On my mark, men: 1....2.....3! Over the wall men! Follow me!"

Captain Karolef and his men leapt over the side of the trech, and began their headlong sprint over the bloody hundred yards. The rebel gunners trained their sights on the advance, working their weapons as an extension of their eyes.

Artillery burst on either sides of Karolef, sending men flying. The captain dodged left and right, avoiding flying dirt and shrapnel. He ran. Twenty five yards down. He heard the bullets hitting the dirt all around him. The man to his left fell backward as a bullet opened his throat. He ran. Fifty yards down. He heard the bullets hit the meat as soldiers behind him were ripped to pieces. He felt the burning in his lungs, but he knew that if he stopped or slowed down, it would be the end. He ran. Seventy-five yards down. It was the home stretch. Eighty, Eighty-five. He ripped the saber from the sheath on his belt. He let out the warcry of the old empire.

He heard the artillery shell before he felt it. He fell forward, the saber taking flight from his hand, and sticking in the ground before him. His body rolled, tumbling into a crater. He felt searing pain all through his right leg. He looked down. His mangled limb was soaked with blood, pieces of shrapnel protruding from the skin and exposed bone. He grimaced and turned his face to the sky. He yelled in agony and rage. He sunk lower into the crater. His rifle had fallen with him. He clutched it tightly. He watched his men fall all around his fragile sanctuary.

Hey, GE, what are the names of some cities or villages that nobody (i.e., foreign troops) have been to yet? If you don't mind, may I RP me liberating them from the communists? (With your help, of course! I need somebody to fight as them)

Hey, GE, what are the names of some cities or villages that nobody (i.e., foreign troops) have been to yet? If you don't mind, may I RP me liberating them from the communists? (With your help, of course! I need somebody to fight as them)

((OOC: cities:
costal south of Burgas:
Primorsko, Caredo

coastal north of Burgas:
Pomorie, Bjala

Other:
Ajtos, Kernobat, Sredec))

((OOC: cities:
costal south of Burgas:
Primorsko, Caredo

coastal north of Burgas:
Pomorie, Bjala

Other:
Ajtos, Kernobat, Sredec))

Thanks! I'll be back in a minute.

The communists were extremely cooperative. Without being asked, they revealed their location. All the RB Marines 127 Division had to do was follow the screams. When they entered the city of Kernobat, they saw four communist guerrillas pulling down a man's pants and boxers.
"We heard you have been praising the late Emperor," one of them said. "You are a criminal. Your crime shall not go unpunished."
The second communist pulled out a ramrod that had just been heated in an oven. "This shall be of great use to us in persuading this treasonous lout to divulge the location of the resistance movement's secret base, and the plans of those meddling RB, Doomingsland, and other bastards. All who hinder our pursuit of socialism as envisioned by Karl Marx shall be liquidated."
"I'm not telling you anything," the man said. "I'd rather die a coward than live a traitor. Not that it matters to you sons of bitches. You'd kill me either way, and you know it."
One of the communists smiled. "How apt you are. Now, shove that ramrod up his ass! Then, we'll see if he's so big and br-"
BLAM!
One of the marines fired a shot, causing blood to spurt from the communist's arm as he dropped the ramrod.
The 400 marines ran over. "Resistance is pointless. Surrender if you value your stinking, pinko lives."
The communist holding the ramrod shook his head, smiling. "You capitalists are so stupid and decadent. This entirely incident was a facade. Pull your pants up, Marco."
Marco stood, pulled up his pants, and flipped off the marines.
"We knew if we pretended to be persecuting a repulsive capitalist, or if you heard screams, you would crawl out like the cockroaches you are," the communist said. "Ingenious, no?"
"We're not roaches," the marine said. "We're Roach-BUSTERS!!! Get it right!"
He delivered a haymaker, smashing his iron-hard, work-grimed fist into the communist's face, causing his teeth to shatter as blood splattered the marine's face. The communist's head went soaring back with the force of the impact, so far back that his Adam's apple bulged profusely and it looked like his neck would snap. He collapsed to the ground.
"You're outnumbered 100-1, boys," the marine leader, Corporal Jerry Rand, said, smiling smugly. "Come with us."
"This is inconceivable," the communist with the ramrod said. "We thought, surely even capitalists would not be so stupid as to fall for such a trick?"
"What are y-" Rand said, but paused in mid-sentence when he saw that he and his men were now surrounded and vastly outnumbered.
"Kill them," the communist said, grinning satanically.
In seconds, bullets flew and blood splattered everywhere. It was the beginning of a long, grueling, bloody battle, perhaps the last Corporal Rand and his men would ever see.

GE, how would you rate that post? Great, good, okay, bad, terrible? Please don't hesitate to tell me your honest opinion, I won't be offended.

Sorry to be a party poop, but I'm going to bed, GE. I'm exhausted. But I'd definitely like to continue this tomorrow, if you want. This is a lot of fun!

The communists were extremely cooperative. Without being asked, they revealed their location. All the RB Marines 127 Division had to do was follow the screams. When they entered the city of Kernobat, they saw four communist guerrillas pulling down a man's pants and boxers.
"We heard you have been praising the late Emperor," one of them said. "You are a criminal. Your crime shall not go unpunished."
The second communist pulled out a ramrod that had just been heated in an oven. "This shall be of great use to us in persuading this treasonous lout to divulge the location of the resistance movement's secret base, and the plans of those meddling RB, Doomingsland, and other bastards. All who hinder our pursuit of socialism as envisioned by Karl Marx shall be liquidated."
"I'm not telling you anything," the man said. "I'd rather die a coward than live a traitor. Not that it matters to you sons of bitches. You'd kill me either way, and you know it."
One of the communists smiled. "How apt you are. Now, shove that ramrod up his ass! Then, we'll see if he's so big and br-"
BLAM!
One of the marines fired a shot, causing blood to spurt from the communist's arm as he dropped the ramrod.
The 400 marines ran over. "Resistance is pointless. Surrender if you value your stinking, pinko lives."
The communist holding the ramrod shook his head, smiling. "You capitalists are so stupid and decadent. This entirely incident was a facade. Pull your pants up, Marco."
Marco stood, pulled up his pants, and flipped off the marines.
"We knew if we pretended to be persecuting a repulsive capitalist, or if you heard screams, you would crawl out like the cockroaches you are," the communist said. "Ingenious, no?"
"We're not roaches," the marine said. "We're Roach-BUSTERS!!! Get it right!"
He delivered a haymaker, smashing his iron-hard, work-grimed fist into the communist's face, causing his teeth to shatter as blood splattered the marine's face. The communist's head went soaring back with the force of the impact, so far back that his Adam's apple bulged profusely and it looked like his neck would snap. He collapsed to the ground.
"You're outnumbered 100-1, boys," the marine leader, Corporal Jerry Rand, said, smiling smugly. "Come with us."
"This is inconceivable," the communist with the ramrod said. "We thought, surely even capitalists would not be so stupid as to fall for such a trick?"
"What are y-" Rand said, but paused in mid-sentence when he saw that he and his men were now surrounded and vastly outnumbered.
"Kill them," the communist said, grinning satanically.
In seconds, bullets flew and blood splattered everywhere. It was the beginning of a long, grueling, bloody battle, perhaps the last Corporal Rand and his men would ever see.

GE, how would you rate that post? Great, good, okay, bad, terrible? Please don't hesitate to tell me your honest opinion, I won't be offended.

((OOC: Good. Quite hilarious.))

Back at the Rebel camp near Sofia, Talbitt just got the report.
Pilot:Commander, sir, we've sighted what appears to be a commie patrol. Do we engage?
Talbitt:Well, on the one hand, they find us, on the other, you kill them before they report our position. I think you know what to do.
Pilot:Yes, sir! Say your prayers, communist dirtbags!
Bullets can be heard hitting ground and flesh before the com-channel closes.
Talbitt:Ah, well, even if they do find us, just that many less we're fighting when they come.
He finished his K-ration breakfast and headed toward the tent that served as a command structure to report what just happened.

The Marines where pouring on the beaches, and quickly secured a beachhead. The armor and AA began landing for the push into the heart land. After the Marines had organised, the army units began landing. It was a truly massive force. The Marines where all battle-hardened from brutal fighting in other wars. They, like every other Doomingsland soldier, couldn't feel fear, thanks to the procedure givin to them during basic training, and the fact they are trained since the age of six. They piled into the LAVs and Bradleys, and headed for Botevgrad. Their plan would be to trap the Republicans in the city. A repeat of Stalingrad, if you will.

In the skies-
Two squadrons of FA22 Raptors arrived on scene from an airbase in the nearest allied country(I have a lot of them). Mobius and Rapier squadron were their names. The pilots where all veterans of every modern war Doomingsland had participated in. They where easily more than a mach for the SUs.

Their first task would be to wipe out a squadron of Su37s, the 27s would be left to the Tomcats and their Pheonix missiles.

"Skyeye here, multiple bandits confirmed at vector one eight zero, thirty miles."

"Roger, Skyeye, confirm type."

"Type Sierra-Uniform-three-seven."

"Roger. OK, kids, we've got a impending furball. Close to intercept bandits."

Mobius squadron closed the remaining ten miles to get within range of their AMRAAMs.
"Mobius one, fox two!"
At 20 miles away, all 20 Raptors fired AMRAAMs at the unsuspecting fighters, and fired the rest of their AMRAAMs at the survivors.

F35s arrived at the embattled city of Botevgrad. Their targets would be the enemy MLRS and SAM systems. One squadron released their JDAMs on the targets below with extreme accuracy. Then the Tomcats arrived.

"Sniper one, fox two, fox two. Eight away."
At a distance of 100 miles, the Tomcats fired 8 Pheonix missiles each, all of the missiles targetting a different fighter.



OOC:How was that post?

The Marines where pouring on the beaches, and quickly secured a beachhead. The armor and AA began landing for the push into the heart land. After the Marines had organised, the army units began landing. It was a truly massive force. The Marines where all battle-hardened from brutal fighting in other wars. They, like every other Doomingsland soldier, couldn't feel fear, thanks to the procedure givin to them during basic training, and the fact they are trained since the age of six. They piled into the LAVs and Bradleys, and headed for Botevgrad. Their plan would be to trap the Republicans in the city. A repeat of Stalingrad, if you will.

In the skies-
Two squadrons of FA22 Raptors arrived on scene from an airbase in the nearest allied country(I have a lot of them). Mobius and Rapier squadron were their names. The pilots where all veterans of every modern war Doomingsland had participated in. They where easily more than a mach for the SUs.

Their first task would be to wipe out a squadron of Su37s, the 27s would be left to the Tomcats and their Pheonix missiles.

"Skyeye here, multiple bandits confirmed at vector one eight zero, thirty miles."

"Roger, Skyeye, confirm type."

"Type Sierra-Uniform-three-seven."

"Roger. OK, kids, we've got a impending furball. Close to intercept bandits."

Mobius squadron closed the remaining ten miles to get within range of their AMRAAMs.
"Mobius one, fox two!"
At 20 miles away, all 20 Raptors fired AMRAAMs at the unsuspecting fighters, and fired the rest of their AMRAAMs at the survivors.

F35s arrived at the embattled city of Botevgrad. Their targets would be the enemy MLRS and SAM systems. One squadron released their JDAMs on the targets below with extreme accuracy. Then the Tomcats arrived.

"Sniper one, fox two, fox two. Eight away."
At a distance of 100 miles, the Tomcats fired 8 Pheonix missiles each, all of the missiles targetting a different fighter.



OOC:How was that post?

((OOC: fine, but you severely underestimated the SUs. The SU-27 was designed specifically to outmaneuver and outgun F-14s and F-15s, and the SU-37 is a next gen fighter capable of competing with the American F-22 and others of the same type.))

((OOC: fine, but you severely underestimated the SUs. The SU-27 was designed specifically to outmaneuver and outgun F-14s and F-15s, and the SU-37 is a next gen fighter capable of competing with the American F-22 and others of the same type.))
]
OOC:I read somewhere that the SU-27 was the Russian equivalent of the A-10.

In the skies above the city, the Sukhoi fighters spotted the incoming Doomingsland fighters. The enemy aircraft were heading for the artillery systems. The Republican fighters turned to intercept. The agile aircraft closed the distance and released their AMRAAMS. Two more squadrons closed from the north, firing a second wave of missiles. On the ground the SAM systems were ready. They locked and fired their missiles. The fireballs joined the artillery rockets in lighting up the night.

]
OOC:I read somewhere that the SU-27 was the Russian equivalent of the A-10.

((OOC: Its an equivalent of the F-15, F-14, and Mig-29))

The communists were extremely cooperative. Without being asked, they revealed their location. All the RB Marines 127 Division had to do was follow the screams. When they entered the city of Kernobat, they saw four communist guerrillas pulling down a man's pants and boxers.
"We heard you have been praising the late Emperor," one of them said. "You are a criminal. Your crime shall not go unpunished."
The second communist pulled out a ramrod that had just been heated in an oven. "This shall be of great use to us in persuading this treasonous lout to divulge the location of the resistance movement's secret base, and the plans of those meddling RB, Doomingsland, and other bastards. All who hinder our pursuit of socialism as envisioned by Karl Marx shall be liquidated."
"I'm not telling you anything," the man said. "I'd rather die a coward than live a traitor. Not that it matters to you sons of bitches. You'd kill me either way, and you know it."
One of the communists smiled. "How apt you are. Now, shove that ramrod up his ass! Then, we'll see if he's so big and br-"
BLAM!
One of the marines fired a shot, causing blood to spurt from the communist's arm as he dropped the ramrod.
The 400 marines ran over. "Resistance is pointless. Surrender if you value your stinking, pinko lives."
The communist holding the ramrod shook his head, smiling. "You capitalists are so stupid and decadent. This entirely incident was a facade. Pull your pants up, Marco."
Marco stood, pulled up his pants, and flipped off the marines.
"We knew if we pretended to be persecuting a repulsive capitalist, or if you heard screams, you would crawl out like the cockroaches you are," the communist said. "Ingenious, no?"
"We're not roaches," the marine said. "We're Roach-BUSTERS!!! Get it right!"
He delivered a haymaker, smashing his iron-hard, work-grimed fist into the communist's face, causing his teeth to shatter as blood splattered the marine's face. The communist's head went soaring back with the force of the impact, so far back that his Adam's apple bulged profusely and it looked like his neck would snap. He collapsed to the ground.
"You're outnumbered 100-1, boys," the marine leader, Corporal Jerry Rand, said, smiling smugly. "Come with us."
"This is inconceivable," the communist with the ramrod said. "We thought, surely even capitalists would not be so stupid as to fall for such a trick?"
"What are y-" Rand said, but paused in mid-sentence when he saw that he and his men were now surrounded and vastly outnumbered.
"Kill them," the communist said, grinning satanically.
In seconds, bullets flew and blood splattered everywhere. It was the beginning of a long, grueling, bloody battle, perhaps the last Corporal Rand and his men would ever see.

In spite of the enemies' advantages- superiority in numbers and the element of surprise- Corporal Rand and his boys were doing surprisingly well. The instant they realized they were surrounded, they all ducked at once, causing many of the communists to accidentally blow each others' heads off. Then the marines tore up the battlefield and really let them have it, pounding them with heavy artillery. Still, it wasn't easy. Already 109 marines lay dead, their corpses full of bullet holes, and the smells of blood and gunpowder filled the air. The two opposing sides exchanged shots the way lovers might exchange kisses; rapidly, in quick succession, and without giving the other a chance to breathe.
Corporal Rand radioed General Eastmoreland's headquarters. "Yes, we need back-up, ASAP! We're vastly outnumbered and on the brink of extinction. We're holding up okay, but the enemy keeps on coming out in waves, there's no end in sight! Send in reinforcements! Over and out."

(Sorry if there was godmoding/modding in this post)

What did you guys think?

OOC:How was that post?

Awesome! Everyone's posts have been awesome, in fact. ;)

Botevgrad, Imperial Stronghold

The city was ablaze as the bombs continued to fall. Captain Barynuk charged after the advancing armor. The first tanks hit the outskirts of the city. The rebels fired a volley of rocket propelled grenades, taking out several tanks. The APCs came to a stop, and the infantry poured out. The wave of men charged into the streets, cutting down the rebels who attempted to engage them. The tanks fired into any building from which enemy fire was coming. Barynuk led his men to the right, following a group of T-80 tanks. Overhead the Mi-24s penetrated into the city, to secure the urban beachhead. Barynuk burst into a small house, to find a woman and child cowering in the corner. He lowered his weapon as a man burst from the closet brandishing an AKM. Barynuk spun, and fired three rounds into the man's chest. He fell, the blood staining the persian rug on the floor. Barynuk rushed out into the street, and the sea of soldiers in time to watch another volley of rockets falling on the city. From over the tops of the buildings he watched the fireballs leap into the night. He yelled to his men over the sounds of battle.

"Alright boys, we got work to do. Follow me!"

He led his men after the others, towards the ever closer heart of the city.

What did you guys think?

((OOC: Excellent. Kill those commies.))

(GE, do I have a military base in your country? If I don't, may we assume I already had one when this thread started? If not, I'll edit/delete this post)

General Eastmoreland was holding a press conference in the RB military base in Generia. Photographers snapped photos and journalists all shoved each other aside, attempted to drown out each others' voices, shove microphones in Eastmoreland's face, and ask a dozen questions at once.
"General Eastmoreland, what is the purpose of Roach-Busters' involvement in this conflict?" asked Stan Blather, brother of the late reporter Dan Blather, who had been killed by the Red Dragons awhile back.
"To eradicate the communists in the Generic empire," Eastmoreland said laconically.
"Sir, please elaborate."
"Those pinko bastards overthrew the Emperor, who was a staunch ally and close, personal friend of President J.L.," Eastmoreland said. "Our intention is to liberate the nation from these scumbags, return the late Emperor's government to power, and keep the nation safe from these terroristic slimeballs, even if we have to wipe them from the face of the earth."
"General, w-"
"One second." Eastmoreland held up his hand and motioned for them to be silent, as his aide, Private Jenkins, entered the room.
Jenkins whispered in Eastmoreland's ear.
Eastmoreland nodded, frowned, rubbed his chin, nodded again. "Fine," he whispered back. "Call in an airstrike. We're gonna erase those pinko bastards fr-" He grinned. "Er, sorry, ladies and gentlemen. Any other questions?"

((OOC: Excellent. Kill those commies.))

Thanks. Your posts have been excellent, as well. Btw, are there any surviving members of the Emperor's old government?

(GE, do I have a military base in your country? If I don't, may we assume I already had one when this thread started? If not, I'll edit/delete this post)

General Eastmoreland was holding a press conference in the RB military base in Generia. Photographers snapped photos and journalists all shoved each other aside, attempted to drown out each others' voices, shove microphones in Eastmoreland's face, and ask a dozen questions at once.
"General Eastmoreland, what is the purpose of Roach-Busters' involvement in this conflict?" asked Stan Blather, brother of the late reporter Dan Blather, who had been killed by the Red Dragons awhile back.
"To eradicate the communists in the Generic empire," Eastmoreland said laconically.
"Sir, please elaborate."
"Those pinko bastards overthrew the Emperor, who was a staunch ally and close, personal friend of President J.L.," Eastmoreland said. "Our intention is to liberate the nation from these scumbags, return the late Emperor's government to power, and keep the nation safe from these terroristic slimeballs, even if we have to wipe them from the face of the earth."
"General, w-"
"One second." Eastmoreland held up his hand and motioned for them to be silent, as his aide, Private Jenkins, entered the room.
Jenkins whispered in Eastmoreland's ear.
Eastmoreland nodded, frowned, rubbed his chin, nodded again. "Fine," he whispered back. "Call in an airstrike. We're gonna erase those pinko bastards fr-" He grinned. "Er, sorry, ladies and gentlemen. Any other questions?"

((OOC: Sure, we'll just assume you had one already. Im going to have it be in the south, though, because if it was in the north the commies would probably have destroyed it.))

((OOC: fine, but you severely underestimated the SUs. The SU-27 was designed specifically to outmaneuver and outgun F-14s and F-15s, and the SU-37 is a next gen fighter capable of competing with the American F-22 and others of the same type.))

OOC:I know the capablilities of all of the aircraft. The F14 isn't very manueverable, but the Pheonix missiles make up for it It was luanching its missiles from 100 miles away, the Su27s wouldn't have been able to detect them from that far. The aircraft you're using can't carry AMRAAMs, and the Raptor would've killed off the Su37s because they wouldn't have known the Raptors were there until the missiles were VERY close. By then it would be to late. The Su27 is still inferior to the F15, the Su30, however, is better becuase of its superior radar and missile systems. I don't feel like getting into an aircraft debate rigt now, so lets get on with the RP. Did my aircraft inflict any losses at all?


Over the enemy artilery-
"SAM luanch! Break, break!"
The F35 narowly dogded the enemy SAM. They had already extinguished their payloads, and headed for the carriers. Enemy Su27s began attacking them, so the JSFs turned to fight. The F35s were superior to the Sukhois, and used their vectored thrust to gain the upper hand. They used sidwinder missiles on the enemy aircraft, and headed home after they ran out of ammo.

Losses-7 F14s, 1 F35

Pilots ejected near friendly forces and where rescued.

((OOC: Sure, we'll just assume you had one already. Im going to have it be in the south, though, because if it was in the north the commies would probably have destroyed it.))

Okay, thanks. Btw, you're more than welcome to have a base in RB.

Thanks. Your posts have been excellent, as well. Btw, are there any surviving members of the Emperor's old government?

((OOC: Yes, his old cabinet is intact, but they have fled to Moldova. I meant to cover that earlier, but I forgot. Also, there are members of the republican army who are not loyal to the new government.))

To: Doomingsland
From: President J.L. of Roach-Busters

We are interested in hiring Skar again. Our job this time is the assassination of Generia's new dictatorial communist President. Please tell him to contact us if he is interested and ask him to name his price.

((OOC: Yes, his old cabinet is intact, but they have fled to Moldova. I meant to cover that earlier, but I forgot. Also, there are members of the republican army who are not loyal to the new government.))

Thanks. I was thinking maybe we could do an RP (in this same thread, of course) where some of them are imprisoned, and the coalition forces perform a resuce mission to break them out.

To: Doomingsland
From: President J.L. of Roach-Busters

We are interested in hiring Skar again. Our job this time is the assassination of Generia's new dictatorial communist President. Please tell him to contact us if he is interested and ask him to name his price.
To:President J.L.
From:Skar Tactical Advisors Inc.
I will gladly accomidate you on this assingment. Price is 50 million. Will be on the next C17 to Generia.

OOC:I know the capablilities of all of the aircraft. The F14 isn't very manueverable, but the Pheonix missiles make up for it It was luanching its missiles from 100 miles away, the Su27s wouldn't have been able to detect them from that far. The aircraft you're using can't carry AMRAAMs, and the Raptor would've killed off the Su37s because they wouldn't have known the Raptors were there until the missiles were VERY close. By then it would be to late. The Su27 is still inferior to the F15, the Su30, however, is better becuase of its superior radar and missile systems. I don't feel like getting into an aircraft debate rigt now, so lets get on with the RP. Did my aircraft inflict any losses at all?


Over the enemy artilery-
"SAM luanch! Break, break!"
The F35 narowly dogded the enemy SAM. They had already extinguished their payloads, and headed for the carriers. Enemy Su27s began attacking them, so the JSFs turned to fight. The F35s were superior to the Sukhois, and used their vectored thrust to gain the upper hand. They used sidwinder missiles on the enemy aircraft, and headed home after they ran out of ammo.

Losses-7 F14s, 1 F35

Pilots ejected near friendly forces and where rescued.

((OOC: Oh, alright. My mistake then. I didnt mean AMRAAMS though, I meant AA-10 and AA-11. Sorry about that. In any case, I'll say you destroyed several squadrons near your beachhead (that's where you were engaging the Sus right? If not then just change it to wherever you were attacking.), and wherever else you were engaging. How many fighters did you have in the air? That would help me calculate exact number, and also where is your force deployed?))

Thanks. I was thinking maybe we could do an RP (in this same thread, of course) where some of them are imprisoned, and the coalition forces perform a resuce mission to break them out.

((OOC: Sure, Im going to make a post about a raid on the refugee camp.))

The 1st and 2nd Armor, and the 1st Marines came within range of Botevgrad. The M109A6s and M270s performed counter battery fire on the enemy artilery. The M1A2s, M2A3s, M6s, and LAV-25s closed into the city, escorted by Cobras and Apaches. When they were close enough, the infantry dismounted and headed into the city, supported by the armor. The M6s targetted enemy helos and fixed wing aircraft.

Losses-34 Bradleys, 47 LAVs, 5 M1A2s, 9 M6s, 91 soldiers and marines.

To:President J.L.
From:Skar Tactical Advisors Inc.
I will gladly accomidate you on this assingment. Price is 50 million. Will be on the next C17 to Generia.

We accept your price. Money will be wired upon confirmation of your mission's success. Thank you.

((OOC: Oh, alright. My mistake then. I didnt mean AMRAAMS though, I meant AA-10 and AA-11. Sorry about that. In any case, I'll say you destroyed several squadrons near your beachhead (that's where you were engaging the Sus right? If not then just change it to wherever you were attacking.), and wherever else you were engaging. How many fighters did you have in the air? That would help me calculate exact number, and also where is your force deployed?))
OOC:My land forces have closed on the city, the airbattle was somewhere near the city, I had two squardons of Raptors(20 aircraft each) four squadrons of Tomcats(20 aircraft each), and 2 squadrons of F35s(you guessed it, 20 aircraft each). So, I had about 150-200 aircraft up.

OOC:My land forces have closed on the city, the airbattle was somewhere near the city, I had two squardons of Raptors(20 aircraft each) four squadrons of Tomcats(20 aircraft each), and 2 squadrons of F35s(you guessed it, 20 aircraft each). So, I had about 150-200 aircraft up.

((OOC: I had 4 squadrons of Su-27s (15 per standard squadron) and 3 squadrons of SU-37s in the area for a grand total of 105 aircraft))

losses:
SU-27: 42
SU-37: 23

((OOC: I think this is reasonable. If you think otherwise tell me so.))

OOC:Sounds good to me.

Corporal Rand, a devoutly religious man, was on his knees praying that the deaths of himself and his few surviving men would be as quick and painless as possible. Excluding himself, there were only 17 surviving marines. Of the 17, 6 were wounded and 11 were out of ammunition. There were more than 700 communists left, all of them amply supplied and raring to go.
"Do not kill these bourgeoise pigs," said the lead communist. "We will slowly torture them to death before the eyes of the entire city to demonstrate what happens to those who reject Marx's heroic vision."
"Please, God, let this end soon," Corporal Rand muttered. His face was soaked in sweat and he urinated and defecated in his pants he was so frightened. His legs swayed back and forth like palm trees in a hurricane. His teeth clattered uncontrollably.
"God is a hoax," the communist said. "Man is god. God is man. For embracing stupidity, we now feel compelled to destroy you. Say good-bye, you capitalist p-"
Another communist tapped his shoulder. "Comrade, do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Oh, nothing I suppose."
"Ah, yes, where were we?" asked the lead communist. "We shall educate you in the ways of pain and suffering, you ingra-"
He paused as he felt his shoulder being tapped again. "What, comrade? Cannot you see I am busy?"
"Yes, but I heard it again!"
"Heard w-"
He never lived to finish his sentence, as a cluster of bombs rained down from the sky, generating a massive explosion that scorched him and many of the others to ashes and caused the ground to shake tumultuously.
In the sky flew over 50 Blue Thunder Class Choppers, which continued to bombard the beleaguered (sp?) and helpless communists with a seemingly endless supply of bombs.
The tide had been turned.

GE, could you please post the communists' casualties? Thanks.

Generian Refugee Camp, Moldova

Ivan Cac sat in the small wooden barracks with his family. He had had a hell of a time finding them. They had fled quickly after the change in power, and he had not been able to go with them. It had been difficult getting out of the country, wih the republican patrols guarding the border. Luckily, one of his old agents had worked out a deal for him, and he had moved over the border in a republican Ural truck driven by a Generian expatriot, and friend of Cac. Now he sat in the damp, poorly constructed camp built by the Moldovan government to control the wave of refugees that came after the communists took power.

Across the Generian border, the republicans waited for their order. They were preparing to raid several refugee camps on the other side, to return the traitors to the President. It would be a quick night operation. No big guns, no tanks. Their general gave the order, and the men boarded the trucks and helicopters, and crossed the boarder.

Ivan Cac was awakened by the whirring of helicopter blades. He got up and walked outside. What he saw terrified him. He was not afraid for himself, but for his family who lay sleeping in the shoddily constructed house. He ran back inside, awakening his wife and daughters.

"You have to go now, quickly!" he said to them.

"What are you talking about, Ivan?" asked his wife.

"The communists! They're coming. Go now! Hurry!"

The women got up, and Ivan forced them to the back of the longhouse. He pushed them through a back door into the night.

"That way! Run!"

The women saw the helicopters, and were overcome with fear. They obeyed Cac, and ran away from the camp. Cac went back to his bed, and removed a pistol from under his pillow.

((OOC: I have to go for a few minutes. I'll post the losses and the rest of the refugee story when I get back.))

((OOC: I have to go for a few minutes. I'll post the losses and the rest of the refugee story when I get back.))

Okay. I was gonna leave for a little bit, too. I'll be back in a few hours.

At the city- The Marines had entered the city and moved to set up ambushes on communist forces.

A T80U drove down a street, escorted by about 20 dismounted infantry.
"OK, Marines. Here's how we're gonna do this. Chatner's gonna take out the tank with his Javelin. The rest of us will place our shots carfully and wip out the infantry."
"OK, what if they send air support?"
"We've got armored support on the way, don't worry."

The men sat in the windows of various buildings. On the sergents orders, the Marines unleashed hell.
WHOOOSH
The Javelin flew up into the air and came chrashing into the roof of the T80, dislogding its turret. The marines carfully aimed and picked off the infantry one by one. It was over in less than five minutes. Twenty minutes later, a platoon of M1A2s and Linebackers arrived, and set up a perimeter. The artilery began raining down on known enemy positions.


Near the capital-
Skar had been covertly inserted into Generia. He made his way into the capital via the sewers, and came out inside a building near the palace. The street was patroled by soldiers and a BMP. He sneaked up to the BMP, and placed a satchel charge in one of the wheels. He quietly moved up to the walls and climbed over, there was one guard near his position. He came up behind him, slit his throat, and his the body. He then made his way inside...

bump

Presdential Palace, Generia City

President Zadaprushki sat at his desk, nervously reading the field reports. The door to his office creaked open, and Vice President Andrej Rabinovich walked into the darkened room.

"What is it Andrej? can't you see i'm busy?" asked the president.

"Oh, I trust you will be interested in this, Sandor," replied Andrej.

"I doubt it could be more pressing than an invasion," Zadaprushki said without looking up from his desk.

"It is, Mr. President," Andrej said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Outside a lightning bolt cut the sky, and struck a communications antenna on top of a nearby building.

"I'm sure you can handle it, whatever it is. It does not concern me," said Zadaprushki, again without looking up from his desk.

"It should concern you..."

"Andre-"

Zadaprushki looked up to see his vice president holding a gun in his left hand.

"I told you it concerned you, Mr. President."

"What is this all about, Andrej. What's the meaning of this!"

"Kreschnev was right. You are weak. And stupid. You can't even control your own nation. There's a bounty on your head, and you don't even know about it."

"Andrej, I demand you explain yourself!"

"Shut up you damn fool! You don't deserve an explanation. You took this office, and then had the nerve to make me vice-president. You f****ng ingrate! I was the reason for any of this! I deserve it, not you, you sniveling, spineless bastard."

"Calm down Andrej," said Sandor, quietly. He was nervous now.

"Don't tell me to calm down! I own you! I have the gun in this room, not you!"

Sandor pushed a small button beneath his desk. A silent alarm added by the late emperor.

"Put the gun away, Andrej. We can work this out."

"I'm afraid we can't, old friend. I was always smarter than you. I deserved Bracco's trust, not you. I was the better soldier. I cared about the cause, and still you succeeded, leaving me as a pathetic leader of a cell in Sofia. Well, the tables have turned now. It's over for you."

Andrej heard footsteps clammering up the stairs in the hall. He turned his head quickly. Sandor dived over the desk, knocking the gun from his hand. The men fought like animals on the polished floors, the rain thundering outside. Andrej grabbed Zadaprushki's throat, depriving him of oxygen. Sandor punched Andrej, releasing his grip. The men wrestled their way across the floor, towards the large window behind Sandor's desk. They struggled to their feet. Sandor got to his feet first, kicking Andrej back to the floor. Andrej rolled, as Sandor brought his foot down next to his neck. Andrej got to his feet. He struck Sandor in the face. The president clutched his hands to his broken nose, the blood streaming down his face. There was hammering on the door now. Andrej gripped Sandor's neck, forcing him backwards. Sandor's head smashed into the glass window, shattering it. Sandor balanced himself on the window ledge, the distance below him a dizzying 167 stories. The wind blew the rain into Andrej's face. Lightning struck nearby. Andrej stared with rageful eyes at Sandor, as he lifted him up off of the ledge. Sandor grabbed at the hands on his throat, struggling to breathe. A sick smile crossed Andrej's face. There was gunfire outside now. Andrej breathed heavily, almost chuckling, as a look of glee appeared on his face. The door burst open. A single man, an assasin clad in black, rushed in. He saw the two men standing near the open window. The man raised his submachine gun, training it on the figures. Andrej did not so much as turn his head. The man fired, a hail of lead ripping into the two men. Andrej's eyes opened wide, a look of complete disbelief plastered on his face. He let out a gasp. He was blown forward as the bullets hit him. His grip on Zadaprushki loosened. The two men began to fall. Andrej reached out grabbing hold of Sandor's jacket as they tumbled through time and space. The jacket slipped off, and Andrej fell below Sandor. Andrej looked at the jacket in his hands, and the blurry figure tumbling above him. I was the last thing he saw.

It was time for the distraction. Skar took out his remote detonater and pushed the big red button. He looked out the window as the turret of the BMP was cast through the air. Soldiers inside the palace ran outside to see what had happened. There was only one more thing he didn't do yet. He stood over the body of Sandor, and pulled his knife out. He cut the head off, and put it in his special bag he had for it. He reloaded his suppresed P90, and quickly escaped via the sewer system. Soon enough, he boarded a Marine Sea Knight helicopter, and had dinner with the admiral that evening. After that, he boarded a transport bound for Roach-Busters.

It was time for the distraction. Skar took out his remote detonater and pushed the big red button. He looked out the window as the turret of the BMP was cast through the air. Soldiers inside the palace ran outside to see what had happened. There was only one more thing he didn't do yet. He stood over the body of Sandor, and pulled his knife out. He cut the head off, and put it in his special bag he had for it. He reloaded his suppresed P90, and quickly escaped via the sewer system. Soon enough, he boarded a Marine Sea Knight helicopter, and had dinner with the admiral that evening. After that, he boarded a transport bound for Roach-Busters.

((OOC: You know that I meant for the assasin to be Skar, right?))

OOC:Yes.

OOC:Yes.

((OOC: Ok, excellent.))

OOC:That was one of the cooler parts of the RP right there.

OOC:That was one of the cooler parts of the RP right there.

((OOC: Thank you. I thought so myself.))

OOC:I have a cool idea for when Ulrich's about to die at the hands of my men that would scare the sh*t out of em.

OOC:I have a cool idea for when Ulrich's about to die at the hands of my men that would scare the sh*t out of em.

((OOC: Sounds interesting. Scare the sh*t out of who? Your men, or mine, or everyone else?"))

OOC:Ulrich, I mean. Revealing just a little bit right now would give the whole thing away. Make Ulrich come out in the open so my men can kill him and we can have yet another cool part.

OOC:Ulrich, I mean. Revealing just a little bit right now would give the whole thing away. Make Ulrich come out in the open so my men can kill him and we can have yet another cool part.

((OOC: Ulrich's a badass now, remember. He won't be easy to kill. If it will be cool, though, why not. I'll get him out in the open.))

OOC: I'll let Ulrich kill one of the main guys so I can reveal another twisted fact about my spec ops.

Laboratory facility, unknown location

Abraham watched the walls of the cell. His head was splitting with pain. Bits and pieces of memory flooded into his mind like sharpened glass. He let out a yell that no one could here through the soundproof walls. Suddenly his mind cleared. He knew what he needed. He needed to escape. It was the only thing that could keep him sane. He looked for a way out.

((OOC: short post for now. I have to run for a few minutes. I'll finish it later.))

I'm back. Did Skar succeed, Doomingsland? If so, I'll wire him the money immediately. Btw, GE, when you get back, could you post the communist casualties from that battle? Thanks.

OOC:My guys are gonna be masked, and don't make him remember everything.

Safehouse, Generia-

"Sir, any word on Ulrich."

"Not yet, Sarge. We're gonna have to be patient." said Lt. Shephard while watching a DVD on his laptop."

The men had been cooped up in a safehouse for several weeks. They were overcome with boredome, and spent their time surfing the internet or watching Black Hawk Down for the hundreth time. Mainly, though, they would tune in to the Marine radio chatter for entertainment, mainly listening how the pinkos were being massecred. They grew more and more hungry for blood with each passing moment. Some of them would go outside to hunt with their XM8s. They would sometimes have contests on who could kill the most animals in the shortest amount of time. The sniper, Sgt. Conners, won every time using his Barret. Mainly, though, they sat around(they needed ammo to kill Ulrich).

I'm back. Did Skar succeed, Doomingsland? If so, I'll wire him the money immediately. Btw, GE, when you get back, could you post the communist casualties from that battle? Thanks.
OOC: Read the thing, its pretty entertaining. BTW, I hope your president doesn't mind having human heads placed on his desk.

Skar hitched a ride on a navy E2C AWACS bird headed to RB for repairs. They touched down in the city, and Skar was driven to the Presidential Palace in an armored convoy. He was lead into J.L.'s office. Skar was carrying a cooler, which he placed on the president's desk.

"Needless to say, I got the job done." said Skar with a twisted smile.

OOC:Aww, damn, I have to go for tonight. I might manage to get on sooner, but I'm not sure.

J.L. recoiled in shock as Skar opened the cooler, his face wrenched in disgust. "Ugh." He shuddered, but quickly regained his composure. "Well, you got the job done. Our trust in your abilities was justified. Here's your money, Skar."

J.L. snapped his fingers and an extremely tall, slender-chinned, flat-topped man with a bushy mustache and massive muscles brought over a suitcase to Skar. The suitcase contained fifty million dollars, a diamond worth over seventy-five thousand, and a Medal of Valor made out of real gold.

"We'll call you if we are ever in need of your services again," J.L. said, nodding to Skar. "Thanks."

OOC:Aww, damn, I have to go for tonight. I might manage to get on sooner, but I'm not sure.

See you later.

Laboratory facility, unknown location

Abraham watched the walls of the cell. His head was splitting with pain. Bits and pieces of memory flooded into his mind like sharpened glass. He let out a yell that no one could here through the soundproof walls. Suddenly his mind cleared. He knew what he needed. He needed to escape. It was the only thing that could keep him sane. He looked for a way out.

((OOC: short post for now. I have to run for a few minutes. I'll finish it later.))

The door to Ulrich's cell opened. Ulrich was waiting, crouched like a panther. He sprung forward, snapping the neck of the scientist. He looked frantically to both sides of the hall. There was a vent above him. He sprung upwards, climbing into the shaft. He moved quickly through the labyrinth, finding his way to the surface. He lifted a grate, finding himself in a lobby of some sort. He ran for the exit. A guard spotted him, opening fire. Ulrich continued to run. He burst into the open, sprinting out into a large desert expanse.

((OOC: There, he's out in the open. Work your magic Doomingsland.))

Nice post, GE. By the way, what were the casualties from the battle between my marines and the communists? How many were killed by the air strikes?

Nice post, GE. By the way, what were the casualties from the battle between my marines and the communists? How many were killed by the air strikes?

Assuming that the communists were in close proximity in a reasonably small area, and that the blast radii of the cluster bombs were large and spread over the area in which the troops were standing, I will say that 500 men were killed out of the group of 700. Doubtless, many more were wounded, but it can also be assumed that certain obstructions would be present to divert explosive force and debris to preserve the life of the 200.

Okay. Thanks. May we assume the rest retreated?

Hey, tell me if you like the following:



With the exceptions of the rustling of leaves, the symphonic mating calls of night insects, and the occasional croak of a frog, all was silent. Like wraiths, the communists crept through the forest, in search of new prey. Their goal was to butcher the first person they found in the most hideous, repulsive, brutal, and atrocious manner, and publicly display the corpse to demoralize the coalition forces, frighten the populace into submission, and demonstrate that they had zero tolerance for opposition.

Up in a tree, the lone RB spy watched as the 500-or-so communists stalked through the forest. He grinned as he anticipated the expressions of terror he would soon see on their face. He gave the signal, and his 'partner' dropped down from the tree and landed in the center of the communist troops.

"What the hell is that?"
"Ugliest thing I've ever seen since my capitalist mother-in-law."
"How in the name of the proletariat can anything's appearance be this detestful?"
The creature- a vaguely humanoid, reptilian being with dinosaurian characteristics- snarled ferociously at them.
One of the communists, Barry Max, chortled uncontrollably with laughter. "This creature must be a bourgeoise," he said, nearly choking he was laughing so hard. "Nothing else could be so incalculably imbecilic!"
His laughter was suddenly cut off when the creature gripped his hand and then delivered several hundred volts of electricity throughout his entire body, illuminating it like a lightbulb and sizzling his nerves to a crisp, frying his brain to ashes in seconds. The creature tossed aside the corpse like an unwanted toy.
"What the hell..."
The creature grabbed another communist, and his fingers secreted poison which paralyzed the communist completely and nearly killed him. Then, with a horizontal karate chop, he swiped his head off.
Before the others could fire their weapons, the creature rushed over to another communist, opened his mouth wide, and snapped his jaws shut over the communist's thigh, crushing his femur and reducing most of it to particles of dust. The communist screamed in agony as blood flew everywhere and his leg flared up in pain.
"Don't just stand there, comrades, blow him to bits!"
All 497 of them fired almost simultaneously. Within seconds, the creature had been blown to pieces.
"Ha-ha, YES!!!! We got the son of a bitch!"
How wrong they were!
Within seconds, every bloody, mangled fragment of the creature regenerated and grew into a NEW creature! Now there were dozens of them.
"Oh, SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!" screamed Colonel Dorkofsky, commander of the communists' platoon. He and the others turned to run.
The creatures, which had cheetah DNA in their genes, caught up instantly, and, using their polar bear-acquired strength, tore through the communists and shredded them to pieces with seconds.


What did you think?

Okay. Thanks. May we assume the rest retreated?

Hey, tell me if you like the following:



With the exceptions of the rustling of leaves, the symphonic mating calls of night insects, and the occasional croak of a frog, all was silent. Like wraiths, the communists crept through the forest, in search of new prey. Their goal was to butcher the first person they found in the most hideous, repulsive, brutal, and atrocious manner, and publicly display the corpse to demoralize the coalition forces, frighten the populace into submission, and demonstrate that they had zero tolerance for opposition.

Up in a tree, the lone RB spy watched as the 500-or-so communists stalked through the forest. He grinned as he anticipated the expressions of terror he would soon see on their face. He gave the signal, and his 'partner' dropped down from the tree and landed in the center of the communist troops.

"What the hell is that?"
"Ugliest thing I've ever seen since my capitalist mother-in-law."
"How in the name of the proletariat can anything's appearance be this detestful?"
The creature- a vaguely humanoid, reptilian being with dinosaurian characteristics- snarled ferociously at them.
One of the communists, Barry Max, chortled uncontrollably with laughter. "This creature must be a bourgeoise," he said, nearly choking he was laughing so hard. "Nothing else could be so incalculably imbecilic!"
His laughter was suddenly cut off when the creature gripped his hand and then delivered several hundred volts of electricity throughout his entire body, illuminating it like a lightbulb and sizzling his nerves to a crisp, frying his brain to ashes in seconds. The creature tossed aside the corpse like an unwanted toy.
"What the hell..."
The creature grabbed another communist, and his fingers secreted poison which paralyzed the communist completely and nearly killed him. Then, with a horizontal karate chop, he swiped his head off.
Before the others could fire their weapons, the creature rushed over to another communist, opened his mouth wide, and snapped his jaws shut over the communist's thigh, crushing his femur and reducing most of it to particles of dust. The communist screamed in agony as blood flew everywhere and his leg flared up in pain.
"Don't just stand there, comrades, blow him to bits!"
All 497 of them fired almost simultaneously. Within seconds, the creature had been blown to pieces.
"Ha-ha, YES!!!! We got the son of a bitch!"
How wrong they were!
Within seconds, every bloody, mangled fragment of the creature regenerated and grew into a NEW creature! Now there were dozens of them.
"Oh, SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!" screamed Colonel Dorkofsky, commander of the communists' platoon. He and the others turned to run.
The creatures, which had cheetah DNA in their genes, caught up instantly, and, using their polar bear-acquired strength, tore through the communists and shredded them to pieces with seconds.


What did you think?

((OOC: Ahh, the creatures you had created for you. Very nice. Be careful who you use them with, though. Some people might think they were a godmod. Fine here, though. I have to figure out a way to move forward, so my posts may be scarce and/or ambiguous.))

Thanks! Someone on here has a 'create-a-person' store. I had them make 10,000 of the creatures. Here's the description:

They have the speed of a cheetah, the regeneration abilities of a sponge, the lifespan of a tortoise (150+ years), the intelligence of a chimpanzee and dolphin, the memory of an elephant, the jaws of a hyena, the camouflage abilities of a chameleon, the cunning of a wolf, the swift reflexes of a mongoose, the ability to spit venom like a cobra, the echolocation of a bat, the ability to electrocute like an eel, a touch more poisonous than a Portuguese man-of-war, the strength of a polar bear, the ferocity of a tiger, the night vision of a cat, and the sense of smell of a bloodhound.

Thanks! Someone on here has a 'create-a-person' store. I had them make 10,000 of the creatures. Here's the description:

They have the speed of a cheetah, the regeneration abilities of a sponge, the lifespan of a tortoise (150+ years), the intelligence of a chimpanzee and dolphin, the memory of an elephant, the jaws of a hyena, the camouflage abilities of a chameleon, the cunning of a wolf, the swift reflexes of a mongoose, the ability to spit venom like a cobra, the echolocation of a bat, the ability to electrocute like an eel, a touch more poisonous than a Portuguese man-of-war, the strength of a polar bear, the ferocity of a tiger, the night vision of a cat, and the sense of smell of a bloodhound.

((OOC: If you gave them the problem solving, and mental evolutionary ability of human beings, then you would have yourself a sentient organism. Only problem with that would be that it would eliminate humanity completely. Maybe you should give it the loyalty of a dog.))

((OOC: If you gave them the problem solving, and mental evolutionary ability of human beings, then you would have yourself a sentient organism. Only problem with that would be that it would eliminate humanity completely. Maybe you should give it the loyalty of a dog.))

Not to worry. I had them made so they would be 100% subservient to me. Although, I don't think I'll use them in RPs, because it feels too much like godmoding, and they seem too powerful. Anyway, this is an awesome thread, and I'd love to do some more RPing tomorrow. I'm going to bed now, though. I'm bushed. Good night.

Not to worry. I had them made so they would be 100% subservient to me. Although, I don't think I'll use them in RPs, because it feels too much like godmoding, and they seem too powerful. Anyway, this is an awesome thread, and I'd love to do some more RPing tomorrow. I'm going to bed now, though. I'm bushed. Good night.

((OOC: My God, this thread is cluttered. Anyway, later.))

Botevgrad

General Dimka Yaroslav led his army in from the west, twenty minutes after the beginning of the battle. His objective was to open up a second fron in the city, distracting the enemy for a push into the heart of the city. His forces moved in quickly, catching the enemy unawares, and making signifigant gain inwards before encountering any heavy resistance.

General Yaroslav recieved word about the assasination a half hour after it occured. He was among the first to know, as the murder had been kept relatively quiet. The question of who was to follow the President, and what was to become of the armies the south was now in question. General Yaroslav was an intelligent man, and saw the obvious problems that would arise as a result of this, and also the great opportunities.

Yaroslav made his final decision. He left General Ligachev public control of his forces, but gave Captain Pyotr Khelmitszky the authority to overwrite any of Ligachev's orders. Yaroslav then boarded a helicopter bound for Generia City.

Moldovan Refugee Camp

Cac Waited to the side of the door, his gun lifted next to his head. Outside he heard shouting, and the occasional burst of gunfire. The soldiers were outside his door now. A group of them kicked the door in, and burst into the room. There were three of them. Cac fired, killing them all instantly with three shots to their heads. The gunfire was not amiss in the raid, and so the soldiers outside did not take notice. Cac grabbed one of the dead soldier's AKMs and scramble out the back door. He clambered onto the roof. There was a sniper lying, scope trained on the prisoners that had been rounded up. Cac fired a round into the sniper's head. He pushed the body off of the roof, and took the rifle. Cac fired on the unsuspecting troops below. One of the men on the ground realized what was going on. He gestured towards the roof, shouting. Cac opened fire with the AKM. He did not notice the man that got around his right flank. Before Cac knew the man was there, he felt a blow from behind, and collapsed in heap.

--00--

Cac came to in a stone prison cell. He had no idea where he was, and he only vaguely remembered what had happened. As his eyes grew occustomed tot he dim light, he realized that there was another person in the cell with him. A sickly figure, lying on the floor. He crawled over to the man.

"Tayanovich?"

It was indeed Josef Tayanovic. A prisoner from the day of the revolution, the once proud man now weak and emaciated.

"Hello, Ivan," said the ex-minister of defense, his voice still bearing the smooth, stong tone as always.

"You look terrible, Josef," Ivan said to the man.

"It's not so bad."

Josef was overcome with a fit of coughing.

"Where is this place?" Ivan asked.

"You are sitting in the first Imperial prison of Generia City. You weren't awake to meet the matre'd."

"Josef, we have to get you out of here. You look like you're about to keel over and die."

"Do I really? Suppose you're right then."

((OOC: All right, RB. I got you all set up for a good breakout.))

Botevgrad

General Dimka Yaroslav led his army in from the west, twenty minutes after the beginning of the battle. His objective was to open up a second fron in the city, distracting the enemy for a push into the heart of the city. His forces moved in quickly, catching the enemy unawares, and making signifigant gain inwards before encountering any heavy resistance.

General Yaroslav recieved word about the assasination a half hour after it occured. He was among the first to know, as the murder had been kept relatively quiet. The question of who was to follow the President, and what was to become of the armies the south was now in question. General Yaroslav was an intelligent man, and saw the obvious problems that would arise as a result of this, and also the great opportunities.

Yaroslav made his final decision. He left General Ligachev public control of his forces, but gave Captain Pyotr Khelmitszky the authority to overwrite any of Ligachev's orders. Yaroslav then boarded a helicopter bound for Generia City.

The Doomingsland forces began to come under heavy fire. It was decided that the communist held sections of the city were to be razed to the ground. 50 B52s flew at high altitude and carpet bombed the known communist held areas. Several C130s flew over more communist positions and dumped leaflets informing them of the presidents untimely demise. Apaches and Cobras straffed enemy forces while this was occuring, and more artilery was called down, this time with cluster munitions.

Armored columns then rushed the enemy positions while they were distracted with the bombing and leaflets, catching them offguard.

OOC:Make a bunch of the really evil ones surrender so I can have another one of my torture scenes.

The door to Ulrich's cell opened. Ulrich was waiting, crouched like a panther. He sprung forward, snapping the neck of the scientist. He looked frantically to both sides of the hall. There was a vent above him. He sprung upwards, climbing into the shaft. He moved quickly through the labyrinth, finding his way to the surface. He lifted a grate, finding himself in a lobby of some sort. He ran for the exit. A guard spotted him, opening fire. Ulrich continued to run. He burst into the open, sprinting out into a large desert expanse.

((OOC: There, he's out in the open. Work your magic Doomingsland.))

Mt. Doom Facility, Doomingsland-

"Sir, you should see this!" said a random corporal looking at real time satelite imagrey of the desert in Generia.
"That's got to be him. Get me Shephard!"

Safehouse, Generia-
Shephard's radio crackled.

"You've got a Chinook inbound to take you and your men to the desert. Change your fatigues and get outside."

"I take it we've found Ulrich."

"We hope so."

Shephard ordered his men into their desert fatigues (USMC type), and they went outside. The Chinook touched down a half hour later, and they loaded up. After several hours of flying they came within the area Ulrich was spotted. The helo touched down, and the men got out.

"So, sir, where do we start?"

"Split up into teams of two, we'll cover more ground. Maintain radio silence until we find him."

"Roger."

Shephard set out with Sgt. O’Neil. They climbed up a good sized hill, and saw a man running.

"That's him, open fire!"
The two men opened up with their XM8s, the man apparently fell over. They went closer, and saw that it was Ulrich. All of a sudden, he lept up, and kicked down Shephard. O’Neil was overcome, and Ulrich broke his neck. Shephard managed to figure out what was happening, and squeezed off a three round burst into Ulrich's chest, and dropped him. Miraculously, he wasn't dead. It was time for revenge.

"You fool! Do you really think you can kill me?" said Ulrich in a weak voice.

"I killed your friend fairly easily."

"What the heel are you talking about." Ulrich thought he recognized the voice/

"You mean you don't- Oh, I know!" Shephard removed his mask."

"Wha-" It was one of the faces from the crazy dream he had when he first awoke in the lab. Wait, that wasn't it. He started to remember things- his friend's brain being splattered in the cockpit of the hijacked airplane, the rat men, the Red Dragons. He also remembered the torture this man had inflicted on him the first time he was captured.

"You're gonna go the same way. On behalf of the people of Doomingsland, I bid you farewell."

Now he remembered who did this all to him.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!"

BLAM

"Sir, what happened!?"
More of is men arrived.
"O’Neil’s down. So is this ass. Pike 'em."

"Yes sir!" he said with a twisted smile beneath his mask. The soldier pulled a metal tube with a sharp end and a button. He pressed the button, and it turned into a spear. Another man pulled his knife out and cut off Ulrich's head, and stuck it on the pike. As it had been for centuries, the heads of Doomingsland's most hated enemy’s eventually found their way into the Great Hall of the Citadel of Doom.

But what of O’Neil? His story is far from over...

Mt. Doom Facility, Doomingsland-
The body of O’Neil lay on an operating table. A doctor stood over it. He was performing brain surgery on a corpse, or so it seemed. The doctor removed a small peice of metal from under his scalp, and walked into the next room. The Reapers were assembled there.

"So, doc, what's goin on?"

"Gentlemen, you have been told this many times before. You cannot be killed."

"Why don't you tell that to O’Neil?"

"You can tell it to him yourself."

The men looked puzzled. The doctor led them into another room. This was a massive room; there were thousands of body’s floating in individual tanks. Shephard thought he saw someone that looked familiar in one of the tanks. It was him. He now knew why this whole thing was so classified. The doctor sat at a control panel, hitting buttons. One of the tanks was picked up by a huge metal arm, and set down in a chamber on the platform the men were standing on. The doctor approached the chamber with the piece of metal, and placed it in a tray. This was followed by ten minutes of humming. The door to the chamber opened. The tank contained Sgt. O’Neil. The tank opened up, and water came splashing out.

"Welcome back, sergeant," said the doctor.


OOC: How was THAT post?

Meanwhile, the remaining Doomingsland divisions that weren't engaged at the city, the 1st and 2nd Infantry, and the 3rd Armor, swept toward the capital, going around many cities and villages, in an effort to catch the enemy off guard. Artilery began raining down on the capital at 9 AM, local. The three divisions then surrounded the city. The siege had begun.

OOC: How was THAT post?

Very nice!

The Mi-24 swept in high over Generia City. General Yaroslav looked down, and was shocked to see the enormous army converging on his city.

"Good God," he said quietly. "It is more serious than I thought. Pilot! Quickly, take me to the Imperial Palace!"

The helicopter swerved quickly, moving towards the skyscraper that had become the center of government in the capital.

The Mi-24 descended on a low level helipad. Yaroslav jumped off, and rushed towards the entrance to the building, huddling his cloak around him against the wind and rain. He was met by two soldiers, who brandished their rifles, unsure of whom this man was.

"Out of my way, you fools!" Yaroslav yelled against the noise of the gathering storm.

"Who goes there!?" demanded one of the guards.

"A General of the Republic! Now move! Can't you see the city is in peril!?"

Yaroslav forced the men aside, rushing into the building.

"Quickly, who is in charge here!?" demanded Yaroslav to the people rushing through the halls. A man stopped to answer him.

"Well, sir, we don't rightly know who is in charge. I suppose General Palobiski took over here after the president died."

"Then what are you waiting for, man?! Take me to him!"

The two men rushed through the building. They came to a large door to an equally large office, once belonging to the minister of defense. Yaroslav threw open the door. A man sat at the desk smoking, and drinking from a bottle of vodka. He was obviously drunk.

"General Palobiski!" declared Yaroslav. The other man belched loudly.

"Yeah, that's me. Whaddya want?"

"The Doomingsland forces are knocking at our gates! What are you doing?!"

"Well let 'em in. Could use some comp'ny." The man belched again.

"My God, you're drunk! At an hour like this! You worthless sod! You defile this office!"

Yaroslav turned to the man who had led him to the office.

"This man is incapable of leading us. I am taking charge. We must act quickly.
You, man!" He pointed to one of the men who had gathered around the office.

"What is your name?"

"Mikhail, sir."

"Mikhail, I need you to get a message to the invaders. Tell them that we declare an immediate end to all hostilities!"

"But sir, I am no more than a clerk in this building."

"Listen to me, Mikhail. Help me today, and you will receive great rewards for many generations. Go! We have little time!"

Yaroslav turned back to look at the drunkard, who had by then fallen asleep.

"Disgusting pig..."

A man in military dress ran up to Yaroslav. He saluted smartly.

"Sir! Captain Stravinski reporting sir! I heard you are in charge now!"

"Yes, what is it Captain?"

"Sir, I hear you mean to stop the aggression towards the foreigners, sir."

"Yes, out with it."

"Sir, the army is already mustering across the city, under another General. He means to fight them, sir!"

"What? Is he mad! That will mean the end of us! We must stop him!"

"I know, sir! The tanks are moving right now."

"Then we haven't a moment to spare! Come, Captain! We must save the empire!"

"Of course sir. There's a helicopter waiting on this floor. We can use it to reach the army."

The men rushed off through the building. The people who had witnessed the scene watched, in awe of the tall, majestic man who had been so quick to take charge. There, if ever they saw one, went a leader.

--00--

The helicopter rushed over the streets. Below they spied the column of tanks and soldiers, heading for the city outskirts.

"Down there! Bring us down," Yaroslav shouted over the storm and the whir of the rotors. The helicopter darted between the skyscrapers, narrowly avoiding being blown into the buildings, and certain destruction, on several occasions. The helicopter descended in front of the army, touching down several yards in front of the tanks. The vehicles came to a sudden stop, and the crews threw open the hatches.

"Get out of our way! There's a battle to be fought!" yelled a driver.

Yaroslav and Captain Stravinski jumped from the helicopter.

"Stop!" yelled Yaroslav.

A man dressed in full military uniform ran forward tot he head of the column.

"What on God's Earth are you doing!" he yelled to the men blocking his path.

"I should ask you the same thing! Are you completely mad!?" Yaroslav yelled to the General.

"The entire Doomingsland army is out there, threatening us!" replied the General.

"Fool! You'll lead to your destruction, and ours! Stop this now! I am issuing a declaration to explain that we mean no more harm!"

"Coward! How dare you give in! I will meet my end with honor and victory!"

"There will be no honor or victory in the destruction of the empire!"

"Nonsense! Onward!"

The tanks began to move forward, as Captain Stravinski rushed forward leaping onto a tank. He grabbed his hold, and pulled himself to the top of the turret. The vehicle stopped, and the gunner stared in disbelief at the man. Stravinski spoke to the entire army.

"Hear me! You must not continue! If you move forward to engage, you seal the fate of our nation! There will be no honor in your deaths today if you proceed with these foolhardy actions. If you attack, then our empire will crumble. The president is dead! My friends, the revolution is meaningless! You know you support none of this. The empire is our legacy, our heritage, our honor, and our pride. It is the very fabric of our souls! We can halt this nonsense now, and restore ourselves to our places on high. Do not seek your glory in battle today, and damn us! Seek your glory in ending this hideous charade, and rebuilding! We must stand united once more, as a people, as brothers! So listen brothers! Lay down your arms, and leave this foolish crusade. Take up, instead, your tools, so that we may heal this great nation, and wash ourselves of the suffering and discord, that we may live again as nobly as we once did!

The men heard the words of Stavinski's speech, and were overcome with reason and remorse. They stared at the young Captain, so noble atop his platform, and one by one, began to lay their weapons on the ground. They stood up, and removed the hats they wore, that bore the symbol of the republic. They placed the hats on the ground, where the rain soaked through their fabric. The soldiers then removed the emblems of the republic from their jackets, and cast those also upon the ground. General Yaroslav watched the Captain with pride. The General who had led the force at first whispered to himself.

"No. No it can't be. No."

His voice came to a crescendo.

"No! You fools! What are you doing! You cowards! You will fight them! I order you! I'll have your heads for this disobedience! Obey me!!"

The General sunk to his knees, screaming in rage as the rain soaked his clothes and his red face. Captain Stravinski got down from the tank. General Yaroslav approached him, shaking his hand.

"Well done. The empire will not forget your service."

General Yaroslav looked tot he waiting helicopter.

"Come, all is not finished. We must return to the tower to ensure our declaration is heard by all."

The men boarded the helicopter. The soldiers on the ground gave no cheer as the aircraft departed, but watched in silence with pride and confidence.

Declaration to all foreign and rebel forces in Generia

The Generian government has issued an order to cease all further aggression towards Generian and foreign people in our nation. The revolution is over, as declared by General Dimka Yaroslav, who is currently, unofficially in charge of the Generian government in civil and military matters. We ask that you cease all further aggression towards our forces, so that a permanent end to this conflict may be brokered.

-Mikhail Orlovski

"All units cease fire immediatly."
The guns immediatly became silent. The smoke cleared, and the Doomingsland soldiers stood in place, not moving, as if they were machines.

Official Response-
Here are our terms for the immediate end to hostilities-

1. The imperial family will immediatly reclaim its rightful place as rulers of Generia.

2. All Communist personel known to have participated in war crimes are to be handed over to Allied forces immediatly.

3. Allied nations will assist in reconstruction efforts.

4. Allied forces will depart when asked to by the imperial family.

"All units cease fire immediatly."
The guns immediatly became silent. The smoke cleared, and the Doomingsland soldiers stood in place, not moving, as if they were machines.

Official Response-
Here are our terms for the immediate end to hostilities-

1. The imperial family will immediatly reclaim its rightful place as rulers of Generia.

2. All Communist personel known to have participated in war crimes are to be handed over to Allied forces immediatly.

3. Allied nations will assist in reconstruction efforts.

4. Allied forces will depart when asked to by the imperial family.

In regard to term 2, there are no known war criminals among our ranks, but an inquiry will be held to make certain of this.

Do you agree to these terms? If not, we will then commence to bomb you back to the stone age.

Do you agree to these terms? If not, we will then commence to bomb you back to the stone age.

We will agree to all terms. However, we have terms of our own. Bear in mind as you consider these, that our leadership is no longer communist nor irrational.

1. We will not hand anyone over to your nation or any other foreign nation. However, any suspected war criminals will be tried very publically in Generian courts. Your nation and any others are welcome to have representatives attend. We assure you that any proceedings will be fair, and will be in the interest of justice, however we will conduct no witch hunts.

2. All Generian prisoners of war are to be returned to Generian custody. If you claim that they engaged in war crimes, then they will be given fair trial.

Very well, those terms seem acceptable.

Meawhile, a massive military parade is held in the streets of the capital. Soldiers march in perfect formation in between armored vehicles. It somewhat resembles one of thos old soviet parades. Most of the citizens are cheering, however, there are some bitter old comunists watching the parade.

Very well, those terms seem acceptable.

Excellent. We have already begun re-establishing the government, and have begun plans for the new constitution.

Excellent. We have already begun re-establishing the government, and have begun plans for the new constitution.
Who's the new Emporer?

Who's the new Emporer?

((OOC: I'm going to make a separate thread to cover all of the new government/rebuilding stuff, and a third thread for the new constitution.))

OOC: I'll have my emporer show up at the coranation and everything. Be sure to give me credit for saving their asses. How about an alliance while we're at it?

OOC: I'll have my emporer show up at the coranation and everything. Be sure to give me credit for saving their asses. How about an alliance while we're at it?

An alliance sounds excellent. Perfect way to thank you for pulling our asses out of the fire. I'll cover all of that when I finish reorganising my government.

All across the nation, word of the President's death, new leadership, and peace agreements spread. In the streets of Botevgrad, an excited republican soldier burst into the barracks.

"It's over! The President is dead! The revolution is finished!"

The news spread across the front, puzzled soldiers talking in hushed tones at first, then shouting the news joyfully at the top of their lungs. Truthfully, no one had liked the idea of killing other Generians, communist or not.

Captain Casimir Barynuk heard the cries, and peered through the window at the sight below him. The battle had suddenly just stopped. Dazed soldiers were appearing in the streets, rebels and republicans just staring at each other. Men were coming out of their tanks, blinded by the glare of the rising sun. Suddenly, one by one the republican soldiers began to remove their helmets that bore the mark of the republic. They tossed them on the ground, and slung their weapons over their shoulders. Casimir ran down out into the streets. He walked up to one of the men, puzzled.

"Soldier, what's going on?"

The man looked at Barynuk, surprised by his ignorance.

"Didn't you hear? It's over. President's dead. New guy took over and declared an end to hostilities."

Casimir stared blankly at the man for a long time. He then removed his own cap, and discarded it on the ground, which was still wet from the previous night's storm. He followed the other soldiers.

An observer standing outside that city at that particular moment on that particular day would have witnessed a very strange sight. All of a sudden, he would have seen hordes of men walking dazedly out from the city into the fields and pastures that occupied the outskirts. The men would be carrying weapons casually in their hands, or slung carelessly over their shoulders. They would have born no emblems, nor would they have displayed uniforms symbolizing allegiance. Those lay back in the streets of the steel and concrete ruin. Strangely, for the first time in many days, the air would have been quiet. The noise of artillery shells, fighter flyovers, and helicopters would have been absent from the scene. The only sounds would be hushed whispers, and footsteps muffled by the mud. Elsewhere the scene would be different, with parades, cheering, and fireworks celebrating the peace, but here it was quiet, for this was Botevgrad, stronghold of the old Imperium.

Port Burgas, Southern Generian Port City

Captain Rurik Karolef lay in the bloody crater, staring at his mangled leg without seeing it. His heart beat, but he could not feel it. He talked to himself, dazed from the loss of blood. Above his crater a rebel soldier was brought over by the sound of his distorted mumblings. The rebel grimaced at the sight, and hopped down into the hole.

"Jesus, that leg's pretty messed up. You're gonna need help."

Karolef did not hear him, continuing to mumble incoherently. The rebel called to others who were also looking for wounded.

"Hey, we got a badly wounded commie soldier over here. Get some medics."

Several minutes later, Karolef was in the back of a field ambulance, unconscious. He awoke three days later in a hospital.

"Where am I," he asked the nurse who was checking in on him.

"Oh good, you're up. You're in a hospital in the city of Burgas."

"What about the battle? Did we win?"

"You could say that. The war's over. President Zadaprushki's dead. Killed by an assassin. A new guy's in charge. There's talk of making him emperor."

"Oh," said Karolef, silently relieved.

"I'm afraid you boys lost a lot of men. They were lying all around those trenches. Most of them are buried now."

"I know," Karolef said.

A man in military dress walked into the room, accompanied by a second nurse.

"You have a visitor," said the nurse.

"Could you excuse us," the man said to the women. The nurses left, leaving the military men alone.

"Captain Karolef, I hear you served bravely in Port Burgas."

"It cost me my leg," said the Captain, removing he sheets to display the bloody stump.

"You will be awarded a medal for that."

Captain Karolef chuckled dryly.

"There is something else though. Captain. Your General, Lew Dmitriev, did not make it. The building he was observing from was bombed shortly after you made your charge."

"A shame," said Karolef, with little sympathy.

"Yes, truly. A good man, Dmitriev," said the General, missing the sarcasm. "But that's not what I am here to discuss. I want to offer you his job. A promotion in the new military."

"I don't know. Perhaps I was considering retirement."

"It would pay well."

"Can it replace the leg?" asked the Captain sarcastically.

"Possibly."

The General smiled. "Money can do a lot of things these days. So can science. Put the two together, and who knows."

"I'll think about it."

"You do that. Give us a call when you make your decision."

The General walked towards the door.

"Oh, wait. I nearly forgot."

The General removed a small black case from inside his coat. He set it on top of the table next to Karolef's bed, and walked out. Karolef picked up the case, and opened it. He smiled, and closed the case.

Skar sat in his bedroom in his private military base, watching footage of rebels and communists not killing each other, and Doomingsland soldiers marching through the Generian capital in triumph.
Its all over thanks to me, he thought to himself. This job really does have perks. Why did I ever retire before?

Skar sat in his bedroom in his private military base, watching footage of rebels and communists not killing each other, and Doomingsland soldiers marching through the Generian capital in triumph.
Its all over thanks to me, he thought to himself. This job really does have perks. Why did I ever retire before?

((OOC: When did I allow your soldiers to march through my capital?))

Nightly Bump

OOC: I sent em in after the ceasfire to make it end cooly for my guys.