NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: 'k. Thanks.

IC:
Gaius Trisken Hospital, Kyrall.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" Apparently the Macisikani could be unnerved after all...
One of the Tyrinians working with the MCR looked out of a window in the direction of the city centre.
"It was the Packari building..." he said, shocked to the core of his being.
"By all the Saints..." an MCR nurse joined him, staring out at the horrifying tableau. Even here, at least a kilometre from the skyscraper, they could hear the screams of pain and terror from the wounded.
"Well, there go the sewer pipes and the water supply..." the Tyrinian murmered, trying to hold onto the rational.
"None of that," a doctor snapped at the people at the window "we have wounded right here," he glanced out the window, and, unconsciously, crossed himself as fast as his hand could move. "That, is going to be very painful. You-" he pointed at the Tyrinian "- go and tell dispatch what just happened."
The other man sprang away, thankful of something to do.
The doctor stared out the window a moment more, then turned to the nurse.
He could see in her eyes the same thought he'd just had.
"How long before the cholera treatments arrive?"

-----

[all translated from Macisikani]
An ambulance tore down the side-road, no doubt breaking the local traffic laws, and turned onto the Road of Kings, where it screeched to a halt, adding the pungent smell of burning rubber to the stench of burst sewer pipes that filled the air.
Around them were piles of limp rags, most of them dyed a rusty reddish colour.
People.
A group of six, a field team, leapt out of the back. Splitting into two groups of three, they moved around the bodies, shaking their heads at each one; the paramedics got out, but waited with the ambulance.
The scene was eerie; dust filled the air, giving the impression of pea-soup fog, and the only sounds were the humming of the ambulance engine and the footsteps of the team.
Then there was something else.
"WE HAVE A LIVE ONE!"
A young man, no more than sixteen by the look of him, lay pinned by a fallen street light. A quick glance confirmed that it was that which had saved him from being crushed by a large slab of a former wall.
All six team members gathered around, four around the fallen light, two around the youth.
As the four prepared to lift the steel pole, one of the others was already forming a diagnosis, while the last member directed the four lifters.
The examiner finally nodded, and his companion called out.
"One, two, HEAVE!"
The steel lifted slowly, then spun on one end, and was gone.
"Bruised, possibly broken ribs, possible spinal damage, but I doubt it, and-" the doctor pointed at the boy's right leg, which bent at an impossible angle.
"You need us?"
"We got this one, thanks."
The other three moved off, searching for another survivor.
It wouldn't be long to look; from inside the shattered buildings, and from the occasional body on the street, came the piteous moans and screams of the wounded.

In the under Dashwood waited. She'd managed to get in close to Vassal again, "Remind me, when we're out of this to properly say thank you." she muttered, for his ears only.

The comment was laced with innuendo, immediately though she'd wandered over to the agent fiddling with the elevators, "These have a service duct don't they? You know, worse case scenario if these refuse to work."

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

On the surface, Baldwin grabbed Kajar's arm, "Wait one second!"

She reached into her pocket extracting a walkie talkie, "We've got 300 Dyelli Beybian armed police doing nothing. At the very least we can keep the other Klatchians from messing around with the rescue effort."

Slowly she released his arm, "I'll let you decide... Sir."

The JSF's roared into the city of Kyrall, above the chaos that the city seemed to have turned to they gracfully flew toward their target, un-touched by the battle unfolding below.

At the IP the aicraft [6 in all] broke into an arrowhead formation to deliver their warheads. Suddenly 4 aircraft toward the rear of the formation seemed to brake very suddenly, while the remaining two aircraft roared on. The Marines had rigged their aircraft with a special package, the Walleye 2 Missile (OOC: its an old US made Air-to-Surface missile with a 2000lb warhead, they don't use it anymore i don't think, i just saw it in a book and thought i'd run with it), the remaining 4 Aircraft were carrying the modern BLU-109 JDAM, 2000lb PGM.

The aircraft with the walleye got lower and then shot up into the sky before levelling off. Both pilots armed their munitions and dived, locking the museum they dropped the Walleye's which shot off the rails (4 in all), albeit going slower than a modern missile. The plan was simple, to weaken the outer structure with the Walleye's to allow the 109's maximum penetration before detonation.

Once the walleye's were gone the remaining 4 aicraft banked hard into the sky, heading further into the clouds before dropping the BLU-109's, (8 in all) and heading back out to sea, the advanced electronics would guide the missile smoothly onto the target.

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

"Sir, the strike on the museum is underway, the aircraft are clearing out, should i order in the Arty?"

"Yes, very good Sergeant, remember i want the The Rotor Co. Tower and the Blue Song Tower raised to the ground, that'll teach them to open up on our boys."


Outside the salvo's from the M198's went on for a solid 20 minutes, 10 minutes continous firing on each building, around 200 rounds were heading for each building...there'd need to be some fine building work done if they were to be left standing.

-COH-

You are watching MNB News

"... reactions will be strong.

Breaking news out of Neo-Tyr; the Klatchian forces have hit an important cultural centre in the capital, Kyral, with an air strike.

Analysts say that this will only inflame the insurgency; [cut to an elderly man]

It's an unbelievably stupid move. That building was full of items of Tyrinian heritage, significant to the entire country. I wouldn't be surprised if the entire nation erupts in violence.


We are not sure what the official Tyrinian reaction will be; as far as we can tell, there are no government officials still in Kyrall who are still alive. No-one is sure of the status of the Princess of Neo-Tyr either, and one of our correspondents has been told that Her Highness was injured or possibly killed in the assaults upon the government buildings. It should be stressed that this is unconfirmed.

Unconfirmed reports are also coming in that the Klatchians have begun shelling civilian buildings, buildings we are told, that have not been the site of insurgent activities. We are attempting to find out exactly what happened.

What we do know is that such shelling is what caused a large skyscraper to collapse.
[graphic appears on the screen]
The ground beneath Kyrall is honeycombed with what they call an "undercity"; very similar to the gargantuan structures beneath many of our own cities. The artillery bombardment weakened the structural supports beneath the Packhardi building, causing it to collapse, taking several other structures with it.

Engineers have stated that if the reports that Klatchians have shelled other buildings, then the structural integrity of the city could be compromised. The Red Cross has confirmed that this will significantly raise the civilian death toll.

The External Affairs Ministry maintains that "we have no official reaction".

In financial news..."

In Regina, the Queen was working on wedding plans, along with reconstruction plans for the city of Varangia and a new military force structure when she caught the news on the network news.

She sighed heavily and offered a quick prayer of gratitude that Klatchian forces in her country were much more aware of local sensibilities.

The Free Republic has noticed the rise in hosilities in Neo-Tyr. The First Republican has authorized the Retaliatory Guard to offer assistance in Neo-Tyr if our friends in the FKC need it. Command General Ring has tentatively activated the First and Fourth Divisions of the First Foreign Guard Army, The whole of the Purifiers Army and the whole of the Levelers Army.

If our friends in the FKC find that they need assistance, our forces will be ready to aid you.

Minister of Defence, Ilek-Vaad

Somewhere, Dead-Eye was laughing. Everything was going acording to plan, even better, he thought. The museam was effectivly leveled. However, there was not a soul within it. He had commenced a quick evacuation after he had left. The destruction of all the artifacts enraged the people. That was good, rage was good. But he didn't expect Hirgizstan to go so far as to shell two giant buildings. It was the middle of the work day! There wasn't an insurgent inside them. The damaged caused to them not only toppled the structures, but effectivly crushed the buildings around them. He could only dream of the commoduious death toll. Thousands of lives extingusihed in such a short peroid of time... it took a man like Dead-Eye to truely appreciate the art. Belda would be in Hamapuri shortly. Then the true form of the insurgency would be reveiled.

He could hardly wait.

---

The Tyrinians were enraged. There was a general concensus that the Klatch had gone way to far in their actions. Riots broke out all over the country, while the insurgancy enjoyed massive recruitments. Even in rather placid areas like Easterling, masses were out in force demanding the removal of the Klatch form their homeland. They had lost quite a good deal of their culture and citizens in the past day, and were ready to drive the 'damn outlanders' out.

Kyrall had suffered. Blue Song and Rotor Co. had effectivly folded, sending thousands to death and far more to unemployment. The museam was flattened, a site that held artifacts with extream cultural significance (The only peice removed was the great statue, as Dead-Eye had taken a likeing to it). The Under was stucturally damaged. What could of been, for the most part, a peaceful occupation seemed impossible. It would be even harder for the Klatch to incorperate the enraged people into their federation. Times were starting to look quite grim...

---

The Lavain Rose agent whom Dashwood had inquired of did not take his eyes of the control panel, but did answer her. "Yes, there are. We could even take the industrial elevator if we needed. But they lead to the other side of town, and it would be a long trip to the airport. I belive-" However he was cut short.

The culprit was two giant rumbleing noises, it sounded like thunder, or the sky was falling. THey cumluated with a giant crash, similar to what they had been hearing for a little time now. The crowd of citizens started to become worried, talking to one another quickly. Marimeta look nervious as well, and Vassal, who had been just before taken aback from Dashwood's comment, was confused. The second Rose agent was already talking on a talkie, in a different laungauge. DuVaul went back to reassure the crowd, but picked up his own phone when it went off. It was the red one, which only rung in important circumstances. "Magistrate DuVaul here. Flooding!? What do you mean flooding!?. How bad? How much'll be damaged. Damn, you've got to... Fine. Yes. I'll be there shortly."

His words had put the crowd in a state of panic, while a soft 'ding' resulted with the elevator's doors to open. The Rose agents pulled Marimeta, Vassal, and Dashwood in while DuVaul refused saying his place was here. When they were all inside, the doors closed and the elevator capsual proceaded heavanward with the five.

---

Kajar looked Baldwin in the eyes for a few moments. "Fine. Give them the word to-" But he was cut off with the sound of giant explosions, and fire seemed to spout from two skyscrapers.

"What in God's name!" He cursed, his voice filled with confusion and anger, "What are they doing!? There are people in there! There's no rhyme or reason!" He finished with a horrifed look on his face. "You don't know anything about this, do you?" He asked the commisar, but in a truely inqusitive way. There was no malice towards her in his voice.

---

You are watching MNB International News

"... has yet to respond.

Moments ago our correspondents in Kyrall confirmed that Klatchian forces under the Hirgizstani banner have begun a direct assault upon the civilian population of Kyrall. We now cross live to our leading correspondent in Kyrall, currently in the Gaius Trisken hospital with the Red Cross.

Pete, what's the story?

[cut to a grainy picture; two skyscrapers are visible in the CBD of a large city. As the camera pans slowly around, there are a series of "crump" sounds to the left; the two buildings suddenly twist then shatter, the remains crashing to the ground, taking out surrounding structures]
"As you can see, two towers, identified as the Rotor Co. Tower and Blue Song Tower by our local guides, come under heavy bombardment from Klatchian Artillery. They then collapse; first the Rotor Co Tower twists and falls, then the Blue Song collapses, splitting into several segments as it does so. Surrounding buildings are hit by debris, and they fall too. This took place just after lunch (?) local time, and the affected area, which we believe to be most of the CBD of Kyrall was packed with office workers."

[the picture cuts to a youngish man, Caucasian, with black hair and wearing a white bullet-proof vest. He's standing just outside the entrance to a hospital. Inside we can see doctors and nurses running around, trying to treat the wounded.]

"Was the area held by insurgents Pete?"

"Not as far as we know. There may have been insurgent elements in the area, but from what we know the area was still under the control of the civil authorities."

"Do we know how many may have died?"

"The true count may never be known, but our local guides say that several thousand people work in both towers alone. I spoke with Dr. M'Tarak, the head of the local MCR, and he says it's highly unlikely that anyone got out alive."

"What is the MCR doing to help?"

"Dr. M'Tarak says the area is too hot at the moment for his people to go in. He says that a dead doctor is no good to anyone."

"Thank you Pete."

[cut back to the anchor; she's a woman in her late twenties with blonde hair]

"With me now is Dr. Felix Avery of the Macisikani National University Engineering Faculty.
"Dr. Avery, exactly what effect will this have on the undercity?"

"Well, Sue, we don't have enough detail about the actual structure to tell you exactly what will happen, but we are doing best with computer simulations and what we do know."

"So you have a rough idea?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We estimate that, if another two or three large structures collapse, enough damage will have been done to the undercity to result in complete structural failure. The whole thing will fold in on itself. Of course we could be wrong; it could be collapsing right now, it might be able to stand up to a direct nuclear strike. We just don't know."

"Do you have any advice for the people living in Kyrall?"

"Yes; play it safe. Be somewhere else."

"Thank you Dr. Avery."

"Thank you Sue."

"Terrorist attacks have struck the nation of Risban..."


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

In an office buried in the Imperial Palace a young man looked up from the TV to the woman who was, by marriage, his aunt.
"That is why I sometimes wonder why we believe the human race to be more intelligent than, e.g. fruit fly," he said.
"It's why I don't need the isolationists to remind me that we should keep the world at arm's length," she replied gloomily from her perch on the edge of a desk.
"You know what our problem is, Aunt Elgiva?"
The woman, First Minister and Head of the Macisikani Government looked at the youth, actually still a teen, questioningly.
"What?"
"We give a damn."
"Con; there are little white happy pills for that sort of thing."
The young King-Emperor, the head of state, laughed at that, and changed the channel.

'This is civil protection unit #222, we need Overseer to send us re-inforcments so we can help sort out this crap!'

The crod of Neo tyrinians had slammed against the line of the Midlonian Civil protection, a bloody morass soon ensured with screams from both sides as men were beaten down.

'Overseer here, we're trying to dispatch a shock Hoplite unit to you now, try to hold out for a couple of minutes, ok?'

'Get them here as fast as you bloody can!' the CP officer yelled then threw the speaker horn on the radio ack to the radio man.
Turning and swicting his shock baton up a notch to 'stun', which he promtly cracked on a tyrinnians head.

Then a pair of black lorries roared around the corner, one of the standard Midlonian trucks painted black with a silver "CP" adorned on the side.

The 40 or so men who got out wer coveed in body armour, and carried a plast sheild with them, similar to the ones the normal civil protection units were using, however these man also had what appeared to be six foot long versions of the shock baton.
'Formation!' the one wearing a golden Dove on the rim of his helmet yelled.
The men got into 4 lines of 10 and lowered their shock pikes, whih crackled a little with electricity.
'Charge!' the officer screamed again, the other civil protection unit merely stood aside and fell back a little.
The other unit ran forward and smashed into the rioting Tyrinnians, many were caught on the shock pikes, and the others, after seeing this, broke and ran.
A riot in the Midlonian section at least, had been quelled.

This was not what the Dyelli Beybians had wanted in Easterling. As a mark of respect, Cooper had ordered all troops outside of barracks to wear black armbands. Also, all Klatchian flags had bee removed from offices and such, leaving only the provincial Dyelli Beybian flags. Cooper himself even made a public adress, openly criticising the Klatchian Parliament, calling it a 'haunnt of hicks'. The Dyelli Beybians were trying to distance themselves from the other Klatchians...

At the same time, war correspondents among the Dyelli Beybian units were broadcasting back pictures of the rioting, although there were none in Kyrall to broadcast what went on there, nevertheless, the word was getting back to Dyelli Beybi, where public opinion, always somewhat distrusting of other Klatchians was becoming downright hostile. It didn't help that the news reporters kept drawing comparisons between the Klatchians and the late Tzar of Dyelli Beybi.

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

Baldwin was looking aghast, she shook her head, "That isn't the way we fight a war. We stick by the Geneva convention, even when that means we take greater losses."

She continued to stare at the blank spaces in the skyline in horrified fascination, "I can't speak for the other Klatchians though, only Dyelli Beybi.... I have no idea what is going on, I am a fairly junior Police Officer."

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

Deep below them Dashwood gave a sigh of relief, "Well I'm glad this is working, although I'd give my foot to know what's causing all this comotion."

She looked about the other occupants of the lift, aparently looking for someone to answer her question, then shrugged, "I daresay we'll find out at the airport."

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

The airport....

At the airport, the Dyellian plane was ringing hot as it broadcast info back to Dyelli Beybi. Collapsing buidings, brought down by forces allied to Klatch was bad news. The public wouldn't like it, which would mean the Government wouldn't like it either and would need to resolve it somehow. The quicker the better.

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

The Government were fast workers...

Even as the first news broadcasts began being aired in POW camps in Dyelli Beybi, the blue eyed Commisaar who had first visited Dart returned, this time carrying an assault rifle. He approached Grant Dart, slapping the rifle into his hands, "If you're man enough Fleet Commander, your country needs you."

He smirked, "It isn't loaded, so don't think you can shoot your way out of here. But if you want to go home we'll give you ammunition and a free ride, all we want in return is your word you won't harm or encourage anyone else to harm any Dyelli Beybian. In fact, and God alone knows why, the boys and girls back at HQ seem to think you might be grateful to us for treating you will then letting you back at your hour of need. In my opinion they are sadly mistaken."

He hadn't lost the attitude.

"General, we have been successful, the musuem appears to be flat, and both skyscrapers are down, they also took out some other buildings, and reports from the Red Cross suggest the 'Under' is collapsing."

"Excellent news, truly excellent...with any luck everyone in there will be crushed to death...bit of a pity about the people in the skyscrapers...oh well...they probably knew where the insurgents where and no one came forward, aiding and abetting is all that is."

"Apparently, now this IS unconfirmed (OOC: Neo Tyr, i don't want to impose anything on you but you mentioned there was mass disgust and riots i presume at the destruction of the towers, well could that result in the loss of electrical power due to strikes in the essential industries?) but a Legionnaire recon team saw a power station being evacuated earlier this evening, if this is true then we may see a breakdown in essential services...meaning that we and the Klatch can provide electricity and win back what we may have lost in the way of hearts and minds."

"Yes, thats true Major...however i think a statement is advisable at this time, i'll draught one up."

-

TO THE PEOPLE OF NEO TYR:

We know that you have suffered in past days and weeks, we may have been responsible for a proportion of this...but it was your so called 'countrymen' who necessitated our actions.
Will you let your fathers, husbands, wives, mothers, sisters and brothers die because of a few madmen who want nothing more than bloodshed?
The Hirgizstanian People will provide Neo Tyr with economic backing, material supplies, food, water, electricity and above all...security...but we cannot do this until you help yourselves by exposing these traitors among you.
Will you let thousands more innocent people bare the sentences of a few traitors?
Why not help yourselves by helping the Hirgizstanian Peacekeepers find these traitors, all who come forward can do so in secret, all information will be confidencial.
A reward of 100,000 US $ will be awarded to every person who helps us locate and capture these traitors.

PEOPLE OF NEO TYR...HELP YOURSELVES BY HELPING US

FROM HIRGIZSTAN

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

-COH-

You are watching MNB News

"... the Palace refused comment.

In Neo-Tyr it has now been confirmed that the Hirgizstani forces deliberately targeted civilian infrastructure and civilian populations in their artillery bombardment of Kyrall.

Hirgizstan has issued a statement offering justification for these actions, and calling upon the Tyrinians to support them.

[text of statement on screen]

The statement was read out to the House of Representatives, and greeted with catcalls and laughter.

Tribune Kevin Vasard has termed the Hirgizstani offers a "flimsy attempt to deal with their monumental stuff-up." The Tribune, the most vocal in his criticisim, stopped short of a motion of censure. It is not known what the Tyrinian reactions will be.

As far as we can tell, the central government is no longer functional, and we have heard that Princess Marimeta may have been killed or injured when the undercity was damaged in the bombardment; we must stress that these reports are unconfirmed.

Meanwhile the Dyelli Beybians are distancing themselves from the rest of the Klatchians, in what analysts have termed a "smart move". Public opinion in that nation is swinging against the war; some analysts predict that it is only a matter of time before the issue is forced.

Elections to be held in Nak-Saldar next week-"

The TV clicked off.
The same two people sat in the same room in the Palace.
"Nasty business this," the First Minister said.
"Nasty," her sovereign replied.
"It's terrible."
"Indeed."
"A tragedy."
"A great tragedy."
"Very sad."
"Very. All those poor people."
"Yes, all of them."
They looked at each other.
"Nothing will come of it here," she predicted, quite accurately.
"We have bigger fish to fry," he agreed.
"Pity. True, but a pity."
"But that's the way the cookie crumbles...."
"Or the skyscraper."
"That was in poor taste. Funny, but in poor taste."

'...Bloody outrage!' General Monty spat.
'We're not responcible for that section, we could do nothing about it...'
'Why do I get the feeling we're allied to more morons everyday? First news of the spat with Ilek-Vaad, now this! This! Blowing the crap out of random civilian buildings.' he slammed his fist on the table, causing his cup of lemon tea to bounce and clink.
'Increase military and civil protection patrols, and make sure we don't do that kind of crap!'

OOC: You don't seriously think that anything in that 'statement' was an apology for a 'stuff up'? I knew what i was doing, i even asked Neo Tyr for the names of the buildings. If we kill everyone in Kyrall then the resistance is finished, now that is proposterous but if they get it into their heads that for every small scale attack there is a mass repercussion where no one is safe then it is indeed the rebels fault for not caring about the majority of the people. Truthfully, anyone who is intelligent in Kyrall will heed what is said in the statement.

Nothing really to RP on here, maybe later.

Also, anyone else on at this time notice that on the NS server there was like a shut-down, still ain't working actually.

OOC: Seems to be working now...

We get half our news IC from the Red Cross, and they're trying to put you in the best light possible so that the populace doesn't start demanding that they refuse treatment; they're the ones who gave us your statement. And I didn't say "apology", I said "justification".

Re-read the last conversation between the First Minister and King-Emperor; You already know that my government isn't going to lift a finger.

The Reichsbauten; Veisser, North Germania...

Reichschancellor Einheit, III: "...well, that's the thing about Germanian soldiers and insurgents. Germanians are very well-controlled and patient, until you piss them off.

Even if you have tamed a wild beast, if you let it off the chain and onto a man soaked in blood, the wild beast will attack freely.

It seems that way in Kyrall, in any case..."

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

In Kyrall, the 8,000 additional infantry had landed and were reporting to headquarters.

In the streets, numerous soldiers were stunned by the towers collapsing, but continued to fight the enraged insurgents.

Guardpost #119; Kyrall, Neo-Tyr where the insurgency had began...

Two machine gunners who were armed with .50 caliber machine guns were coming under constant insurgent attack, and bodies and puddles of blood were piling up in the street. The streets reeked of death and decay, and the smell of gunpowder filled the air. Small fires were burning here and there. Dark smoke drifted through the streets.

Translated from German...

Machinegunner Kahn: "Look, that one's a woman! Should I shoot her?"

Machinegunner Nordmann: "Does she have a gun?"

Machinegunner Kahn: "I can't tell. It might be an umbrella or a walking stick."

Machinegunner Nordmann: "Possible risk. Shoot the bitch."

Kahn unleashed a line of bullets and 5 red holes burst out of the woman's chest, one bullet hitting her directly in the throat. She twisted and jerked sideways and backwards, as her head fell off her body.

Machinegunner Nordmann: "Nice shot, Kahn!"

Kahn gave Nordmann a high-five and lit a cigarette. Just as he did, an RPG hit the triple-thick layer of sandbags in front of him, sending dust and schrapnel into the air; both landing on the two soldiers.

Machinegunner Kahn: "Goddamnit! Piss bullets on that sorry son of a bitch!"

The two gunners saw the smoke trail and let loose a stream of bullets into a near-by apartment building for a good 15 - 25 seconds.

An insurgent held a white rag out of the window from where the RPG had come. As Nordmann reached for the loudspeaker to tell the man to come down, they heard a loud rifle crack behind them.

Scharfschütze Heydrich: [Looking at the two machinegunners] "I don't take prisoners. Insurgent bastard deserved to die. Look!"

The insurgent fell out of the window with a bullet hole in his right eye. A submachinegun fell out of his jacket on his way down.

The thud of his body hitting the street could be heard at the guardpost.

Machinegunner Kahn: "Nice shot, Heydrich. Can I use that rifle?"

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

MESSAGE BEGIN

To: Macisikan Red Cross
From: North Germania

We have many injured soldiers, and not enough medics to handle the situation. Over 350 wounded who need intense care. Can you help?

MESSAGE END

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

- N.G.

The elevator in which the Princess was riding on had made it's way to the surface. The doors opened, to reveal a large room that was obviously out of use. It was also rather cold, Vassal's uniform provided little warmth, and even in her sweatclothes the Princess had very little warmth. A Rose agent turned to Dashwood. "This is one of the terminals which relay people to and from the surface. It's one of many." He said, making his way to the door. There was a rather large lock. He took of a bizarre looking tool and within two minutes the door was unlocked. But none of them were prepared for what thew would see.

The large doors to the surface had opened, which had let in a large amount of dust. Marimeta and Vassal started to cough. "Wh-What is all this dust from?" Marimeta asked while the agents waved away the dust to make a little path.

Marimeta exited and was at a loss of words. They were a mere three blocks away from the old Rotor Co. Building. But it wasn't there. In it's place, there was a giant smoldering pile of rubble and debris scattered everywhere. "No..." She muttered and fell to her knees, the soot smearing the navy blue of her 'disguise'.

Vassal put his hand to her shoulder. "Princess... There's nothing you could have done..." He said trying to console her.

Meanwhile, the agent of the Rose looked at Dashwood, his dark glasses covering his eyes. "Kyrall International is just down there. There's the causeway that leads to it." He said darkly. "It's walking distance. Do you think we should walk or get a ride..." He said, rather ironically, if you have a dark sense of humor. The whole area looked like it was hit by a bomb, and the major roads had been blocked off by the debris.

---

The Tyrinians were disgusted beyond belief at the outlander, but had now focused their anger at Hirgizstan. Those damn outlander kill several thousand innocent civilians, and now had the nerve to call themselves 'peacekeepers'? They offered things the citizens enjoyed before the outlanders came in the first place. They had the gall to criticize their fellow countrymen without even an apology!? Even those stupid barbarians, (North Germina, was it?) said they were sorry at one point, even if it was for insults and not the occupation. Strangely enough, the attacks had stopped almost completely. What this meant is of yet unknown...

However, Dyelli Beybi's tactics were working for the most part. Cooper's idea's quelled the riots peacefully, along with an appearance from Governor Levbo. Good man, that Levbo. One of the last statesmen in Neo Tyr. So while Dyelli Beybi were not exactly being extolled, they did take little of the blame for Kyrall, in the people's eyes.

The Under was still standing. It had taken damage in the three sectors where they were hit, but the Central Support Column still stood. But with the government building taking more and more damage, it was unclear how long in would stay that way. The current civilians harmed included the last workers in Packardi, the workers in and around the Blue Song and Rotor Co. towers, the citizens in the two apartment buildings hit indirectly by Hirgizstan, and some citizens of the Under. The death toll was currently at an estimated 20,000. With Blue Song hit hard, an enraged Bartello Barinten funneled several thousand dollars in funds secretly to the insurgency. Those outlanders would pay for crossing the Blue Song Corporation.

---

Hamariki Belda was in Hamapuri. He loved the city. Hamapuri was where he was born and rasied. It was where he started with nothing and left with an aspiring political career and an appointment with King Serge Llamainan himself. But now, Hamapuri was occupied. All her old pride was stripped.

But perhaps that was not reversible.

He watched his city from high on a bluff, inspected the airfield, the port, and the main barracks. He was ready. The plan would go in motion. He savored this last view. He would never stand here again.

((OOC: Has anyone claimed the main military base, Hamapuri? I plan to have a pretty big incident happening there soon...))
---

Ross Kajar sighed. "Bring in your lads, then. God knows we'll need them..."

At that time, Young spoke up. "M'lord, I've got a message from the station. Some note of apology from Hirgizstan..." He said, then read the note aloud.

When it was over, Kajar was even more filled with rage. "Those little thugs! How dare they threaten us like that! Necessary my- Damn..." He muttered, trying to get a hold of himself. He looked at Baldwin. "You'd better report to your superior officer. Take this," he said tossing her a handgun, "You don't know what kind of civilian anger you might run in to, especially after this... slaughter." He said, his gaze fixed darkly on the three billowing clouds coming from the ground of Kyrall.

MESSAGE BEGIN

To: Macisikan Red Cross
From: North Germania

We have many injured soldiers, and not enough medics to handle the situation. Over 350 wounded who need intense care. Can you help?


- Message -
To: North Germania
From: MCR Director of Operations, Kyrall

Bring them in; beds are ready and waiting. We must insist that no armed soldier come onto hospital grounds; they are under the protection of the Red Cross.

-Message end-

==============

Where the Princess, Dashwood, Vassal and the Rose man stood, choking in the dust, the faint sound of sirens mingled with the moans and screams of the wounded.

The first MCR volunteers were on their way

Dyelli Beybian AOS agents had arrived in the areas where there was still gunfire. In very dark green, so dark it was almost black - coloured uniforms with quite a high level of armour and balaclavas, there was no way anyone could pick them as insurgents. There were 10 in all armed with a variety of weapons and lead by Walker. Right now they were split into three groups, one led by Walker, the one with four officers dropped to a crouch behind some rubble, he pointed with his thumb towards an open space, "Body. Probably got a sniper out there. Keep your heads down... trench periscope."

One of the junior officers handed Walker what looked like a big box with a viewing slot in one end and lense at the other, "See anything Sir." one man questioned.

"Just the body. Female. No... wait. Germanian snipers... radio the others and tell them to head back to field HQ. Bloody northerners, as likely to shoot at us as the actual enemy." he shook his head, he wasn't certain exactly what he had expected to find, or do when he found it, but now that he had, the only sensible thing to do seemed to be to pack up and go back to base. His job certainly wasn't to die.

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

"Got it." Baldwin deftly caught the pistol out of the air, "Would it be possible to get some transport, we don't actually have any, and well, walking columns of uniformed Dyelli Beybians through the middle of Kyrall might be provocatory."

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

Dashwood was silent as she stared at the blasted wasteland that had been a city last time she'd looked at it. Wordlessly, she extracted what looked like a beige hankerchief from her pocket, tying it around her mouth and nose. She was wishing she'd brought some sand goggles as well. Desperately she tried to keep her mind off where it was wandering. Away from the last building that had exploded with her just outside it. The doctors had told her she was lucky to survive. Kay Davis had not been so lucky. He'd been quite unrecogniseable when they pulled him out of the wreckage...

This time when she drew her sidearm it was deliberate, "Whoever blew this place up might still be lurking around, we should probably get moving, and keep an eye out for ambushes."

She peered cautiously around the corner, looking for anyone who might be thinking of taking a shot at them, "I'll run decoy to that rubble." she volunteered to the Rose agent.

She didn't wait to be told not to, instead sprinted the thirty metres to the nearest major patch of rubble, flinging herself down behind it. Anyone who had spotted her would probably realise she was military or police of some description... she was uiformed after all. She rolled onto her back, watching to see what the Neo Tyrans were up to, and more imprtantly to see if anyone else was coming to check out what was going on...

OOC: Macisikan, ok.
Oh by the way i would actually have RP'd an apology but whats the point? Unless those in Neo Tyr take apologies very seriously and the insurgents listen then what, indeed if any, is the point?

IC:
Before the skycrapers had fallen there had been a large wave of RPG and small-arms fire pounding the outside of the sports stadium-cum-military base that the Hirgizstanian Military were operating out of.

Sniper squads positioned in random places around the stadium frame and the permanent garrison of a few surrounding buildings hadn't even stopped the attacks, but as soon as the towers fell the attacks had visibly dwindled.
General Steel couldn't understand it, he expected the attacks to be sever and purposely ordered in the 8000 Soldiers, 80 M1A3's, 25 M5 (ST-21 NGBT)'s, 40 LAV's and over 100 over the AAAV's. A forested area behind the stadium, a park of some sort, had been bulldozed and turned into a FOB for the extra helictopers and vehicles. The basment of the Stadium, so far, had provided plenty of room and warmth for the soldiers.

A small boiler room in the basement had recently been the makeshift holding cell for two bedraggled insurgents. Two Marines had, recently, broken into the room and had beaten the prisoners severly upon hearing that 20 more Marines had been killed on a patrol in the city. They had been detained and sent out to the brig on one of the LHD ships, but many Marines felt the same and the General believed that the insurgents blindfolds were to keep them from panicking when walking past the hard-stares of the Marines as they were escorted to a waiting helicopter.

Out on the HNS Neptune the insurgents were hurried down into the bowells of the ship and placed in separate cells, each interrogated at different intervals in dedicated rooms.

The insurgent with the gun-shot wound called himself 'John', and the other called himself 'Nick', they had not given their names or anything else...but after all they had only been talked to so far.

'John' was in the interrogation room when a man in his late 40's with short, black non-military hair entered, with unmarked urban MARPAT fatigues. He set a brown manilla file on the desk and proceeded to take the blindfold off the quivering insurgent. He scanned him over, checked his pulse, his mouth, ears and nose before having some food brought in.

The man then left, having said nothing at all over 30 minutes. The insurgent hungrily stuffed food into his mouth. A grey-haired man in his 50's watched with interest through the two-way mirror. He observed that the insurgent had not inspected the food and had instead gobbled it up, a lack of training was evident in his demeaner, especially as he flinched when anyone entered the room.

The man with the grey hair entered the room, 'John' flinching as he opened and closed the door. "Hello John, how are we feeling today?"

"I ...don't speak...well...for...english." John muttered almost incoherently.

"Oh...I see so the recording of you in the Marine armoured vehicle shouting abuse in perfect english was faked then?"

"I...what do you want with me, i have done nothing, i am a shopkeeper." 'John' said this with a hint of acid in an obviously angry and dismissive voice, the grey haired man said nothing until:

"I see, so what do they sell in your shop? AA Missiles, guns, bullets...that type of thing...don't answer yet, i have another question. Anyone you know work in the Blue Song Tower or the Rotor Co Building?"

"Ye- no, i know no-one who works there."

"I see, so you wouldn't care if...say...we just destroyed them? They say there's several thousand dead, not many survivors."

"...i...you...BA*TARDS, YOU MOTHERF*CKERS, WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" John began to sob weakly into himself, trying to hide his emotional outburst.

"You made us do it John, we didn't want to do it...you killed our soldiers when we tried to help you, it is not our fault...you are to blame, think John...you killed people you cared about...you did, not us."

"I killed no one, i told you...i am a shopkeeper."

"Do you want to bury your loved ones...do you want to lay them to rest? I'm afraid if you don't begin to co-operate with us i am afraid i will have to turn to other measures...you need medical attention and water...your friend...he is weak, he will die if you do not help him, do you want that?"

'John' was silent, he said nothing and closed his eyes.

"Very well."

The grey-haired man got up and walked over to the mirror, as he did so the door opened and two soldiers came in, one smashed 'John's' chin with a truncheon, the other yanked him up and punched him hard in the stomach and he began to wretch as they dragged him away, his feet trailing behind him.

The grey haired man sighed, "Bring the other one."


-COH-

Armored ambulances rushed to the Macisikan Hospital, and began unloading their wounded to the Red Cross officers. Hopefully, most would survive and see combat again.

Guardpost #119; 2:39 AM...

The Germanian snipers had spotted the Dyellian agents and ignored them.

Scharfschütze Heydrich: "Screw them. They do nothing but insult our tactics. We're doing our job - defending ourselves against these idiots."

Machinegunner Kahn: "Agreed, Sir."

A few minutes later, a sudden rush of some 25 insurgents emerging from alleys between damaged buildings began firing off AK-47s and modernized M16s at the Guardpost.

The two machinegunners, Kahn and Nordmann fired off their .50 caliber machine guns ruthlessly, gunning down every insurgent they could see.
The blue/white tracers from the machineguns lit up the dark, smokey street. It looked almost as if the Germanians were firing lasers at the insurgents.

Three snipers at the Guardpost were picking off the rebels left and right.

It appeared to be a normal attack from the insurgents -- poorly trained militia going up against some of the world's best trained and experienced soldiers, and thus being slaughtered -- until three Reichswehr Guards were gunned down from AK-47 fire and died on-spot.

16 insurgents had fallen dead in the streets before the rest retreated into alleys. The piles of bodies were becoming out of control, and when given the opportunity, Germanian soldiers stacked them together and burned them in the streets.

Machinegunner Nordmann: "You smell that, Kahn? Smells like some Tyrinians died and we didn't."

They all laughed.

The Guardpost assumed the attack was over and began to rest for a moment - smoking cigarettes and sipping vodka - until two 155mm Howitzers rolled out from an intersection.

Machinegunner Kahn: "Jesus, where did they get those?"

The machinegunners began furiously firing on the artillery piece before it let off a shell, barely missing the Guardpost, but knocking a huge hole in the concrete street behind them.

A Germanian guard quickly pulled a Panzerfaust-3 out of a carrying case. He loaded the barrel, sighted the artillery gun and sent the rocket straight at one, blowing it to pieces. However, not before the second Howitzer launched a shell, striking directly in front of the Guardpost and blinding the soldiers' field of vision.

Just as the artillery piece was destroyed, 3 RPGs struck the Guardpost, knocking down a sniper tower.

The brave man who had fired the Panzerfaust-3 reloaded it, and risking his life ran out of the Guardpost and into the open street, got a clear shot at the second Howitzer, and destroyed it. However, he was hit three time -- one shot to his side and two to his right leg.

He fell on the ground and played dead.

The remaining two snipers killed the three insurgents who had fired the RPGs.

As they did, the rest of the insurgents began to fire on the Guardpost again, killing two more Reichswehr Soldiers. The remaining 9 insurgents were quickly shot down, but it became painfully obvious that the insurgents were growing in numbers, and their hostility towards the Germanians was increasing.

A medic and two Reichswehr Guards picked up their fallen comrade and began tending to his wounds. He was given a large shot of 55mg of Morphine, and a sedative. The soldier fell asleep, while his injuries were being healed.

He would be awarded the Knight's Silver Cross for bravery, three wounds, and for saving the lives of 26 men -- a decoration hard to receive.

Immediately after the attack, a request for the High Commander of all the sniper branches, Kapitän Scharfschütze Fourth Class Kiddmann to bring himself and his elite ESPK sniper team to Guardpost #119 was made.

As well, 20 Schultzpolizei Soldiers and 2 Fuchs 2 Modified IFV's were requested to support the Guardpost.

It was obvious the insurgents were becoming more organized and receiving better equipment...

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

OOC: I hope this isn't playing your role too much, Neo, I just thought if the insurgents started getting better equipment, this RP would become a lot more intricate and entertaining. If I am playing your part too much, I'll edit it.

Just trying to make this good for all of us! :)

- N.G.

------------------------------
Encryption Max

MESSAGE BEGIN . . .

To: Hirgizstan forces; Kyrall
From: Germanian Guardpost 119
Subject: POWs

The most insurgent attacks have taken place in this region. We have taken up a policy of taking no prisoners; however, if you wish to send in a task-force to raid certain buildings, we would give you full protection in the street and help "quell" any possible insurgent attacks.

- Feldkapitän First Class Hosenfeld; Guardpost 119

MESSAGE END . . .
------------------------------

OOC: Macisikan, ok.
Oh by the way i would actually have RP'd an apology but whats the point? Unless those in Neo Tyr take apologies very seriously and the insurgents listen then what, indeed if any, is the point?


OOC: The point of RPing an apology would so that foreigners watching on CNN (who usually hold the purse strings for aid organisations) don't take offence; it probably wouldn't have affected public opinion in Neo-Tyr, but could have in Dyelli Beybi, whose people are starting to get a trifle annoyed with the other Klatchians' tactics.
It's not that important for me though; Neo-Tyr is stuck behind the comics in the Macisikani papers...

IC:
Field Hospital #42, John Vassal High School, Kyrall (approximately 1 km from the CBD)
Nurses and interns ran back and forth, the wounded cried out, Doctors barked orders, and ambulances came and went with screaming sirens.
Suddenly everything went quiet; one of those pauses where everyone has stopped to draw breath.
Into that silence came the faintest of sounds.
"What was-"
"Shhh!"
"There it is again!"
"Everyone shut up!"
The only sound was the steady beeping of monitors, and the distant sounds of battle.
Then they all heard it. It was very faint; distant, removed. But it was there.
The deep groan of metal under incredible stress.
As one person, the doctors, Tyrinian volunteers, Klatchians, civilians and nurses looked down.
"That's the Under..." said a Tyrinian doctor in a horrified whisper; his voice carried well in the silence.
He looked up to meet the eyes of the MCR Hospital Director.
"It hasn't collapsed yet. They need a unit of O Negative in here. MOVE IT PEOPLE! WE HAVE WOUNDED!"
The hospital whirred back into life; but every now and again, someone would glance at the floor.

===========================

From: Director of Operations, Kyrall
To: All Hospital Directors
Subject; Structural integrity
TOP PRIORITY

All stations are to evacuate if the undercity shows signs of imminent collapse. Otherwise everyone is to remain at their post.

All stations are reminded to ensure that shift rotations take place; a tired doctor is more lethal than a soldier.

- DoO

The day had turned out quite well considering the increase in attacks on the North Germanian Forces, quite a few were reported to have been killed today alone.

Yesterday night had been a test for the remaining units of the incoming 2nd Regiment, their IFV's and M1A3's had taken a pounding from the RPG's on the way to the stadium. An M1A3 had been taken out by an artillery piece of some sort, before it was destroyed itself.

As the evening drew on General Steel strolled out onto the 1st floor of the stadium, standing next to a searclight crew, chatting with them while chewing vigorously on a rather thick cigar.

As the General was about to move on to a 50.cal crew further around the stadium an RPG was fired, at street level, into the concrete sandbag roadblock blocking the 3 way crossroads in front of the stadium. This was the prelude for what was to come.

The RPG was followed by a shot from a sniper on the stadium...and then a roar seem to come from the darkness of an ally and then out of the ally, and another ally opposite, poured numerous insurgents, all screaming and running toward the concrete highway dividers firing as they ran.

The Marines manning the roadblock, the snipers and machinegunners in the stadium all poured fire onto the insurgents, cutting them down in their tracks, their bodies lurching every which way as bullets tore into them. Some tripped over others and were mown down by 50 caliber where they lay, their bodies convulsing and spraying blood as the rounds tore viciously into them.

Only one insurgent actually made it to the roadblock, the only problem was he never knew he'd made it, he slumped over the concrete dividers, his hands resting on the several layers of sandbags and dividers behind the first row, his bloody hands slowly slipped down until his body collapsed into a contorted heap below the barrier.

The General was glued to the scene, he lived for the combat and only wished he could be behind that barrier. His thoughts however were cut short by the next occurance.

A car roared out of an ally, crashing into the sides as it did so, it levelled itself at the centre of the road and sped toward the barrier, the soldiers fired to the side...it didn't stop, then into the bonnet, the driver rolled out of the door, bouncing along the street as the car continued, belching smoke. A quick burst of 50caliber echoed on the concrete walls of the buildings and then an explosion put some life back into the darkening day as the car exploded into a fireball, careering into an abandoned building and scraping along the wall before coming to a halt, with flames licking out from the windows.

As the car came to a halt, RPG's sailed from the sides of the alleyways, but they didn't explode on the concrete barrier...instead they sailed into the air and up into the top floor of the stadium...the explosion jolted the steel barriers that curved around the edge of the outside, all reported in saying negative hit. As the reports from the snipers ended, the searchlight crews caught another insurgent ducking out of the ally with an RPG, a loud crack reported and he slumped to the ground, arched up, fired and then collapsed. The RPG went straight for the first floor, flying over the heads of a machinegun crew before exploding on the concrete wall behind them, showering them with shrapnel.

The searchlight crew were occupied so the General ran toward the fallen crew. A medic was racing up the stairs as the General ran past, skidding onto his knees beside the gunner. He called his name but the soldier only groaned and tried to crawl forward, the medic skidded in beside the General, followed by another medic, who both began to treat the two machingunners.

As the medics were pulling the soldiers away from the edge of the 1st floor another wave of insurgents came screaming from the left hand street, directly toward another roadblock. The General jumped up, grabbed the butterfly handle of the 50cal, swung it to the side and opened fire into the street, pouring round after round into the insurgents.

After three more rush attacks there was a lull, the General donned a helmet, body armour and grabbed an M4, heading outside to check on the positions.

By the end of his check there had been another RPG attack and he finally had the death toll, 12 Marines and 1 Legionnaire, while another 6 were stretchered away as casualties. The General stayed on the barricade for a while, against the wishes of his subordinates, and helped repel another insurgent wave. He finally left the street as another RPG attack commenced, he hated to leave his men but he was told he had urgent messages and he ran back into the stadium and back to his makeshift office, but not before checking on the wounded and saying a prayer with the Padre for the deceased.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
ENCRYPTED MESSAGE


TO: Germanian Guardpost 119
FROM: General Steel, CHMC- Sports Stadium
SUBJECT: POWs

Dear Herr Feldkapitän First Class Hosenfeld, we received reports of your situation earlier this evening and we have been thinking of sending a number of troops out in that direction.

The 2nd Regiment has only just arrived and we will be sending them down to you tomorrow afternoon, they will be arriving with 5 M1A3 Tanks, 2 M5's and 5 AAAV's with 10 Marines in each, around 50 Marines in all. They will commence raids ASAP, probably at night, and i'm sure they will be thankful that they have your fine men covering them.

Feldkapitan, if you need anything, such as artillery support, armour or supplies then do not hesitate to ask, i believe we are slightly closer, distance wise, than your nearest base, do not be afraid to ask Feldkapitan, and good luck.

General Steel, CHMC

Two of the members of the police of Kyrall were walking through the ruins in one of the ill-fated sections of Kyrall, the Packardi area. Smoke clouded the area, making the twilight fade into a disgusting black above their heads. It was a depressing scene, the dead were still in the streets. And yet these two officers kept up their duty and searched. "Hey..." one said to his partner, "Come take a look at this..."

His partner walked to what seemed like a normal corpse. However, there was a small, copper bracelet securely attached to his wrist. It had a strong lock, and on one side read "Decius Hale. Property of Truman Armbuckle. Please return if found." It was a slave, and he was holding a gun.

This meant something, and something large. Slaves were expensive pieces of prestige. One had to go through lots of forms and pay lots of money to get them. If one just gave his slave to the insurgency, it would essentially mean the government would revoke their license and never let them own slaves again. And that meant a lot, if you were a rich family trying to make it big. If people were willing to send slaves to fight, it meant they were rich and hell bent on driving out the Klatch...

---

A very angry Harold Varo in the now relocated Neo Tyr’s People’s Army HQ was chastising an insurgent runner, rather angry at the news he had received. “What do you mean there was an attack!? I thought I told you not attacks until Belda gives the word!” Varo screamed, his perfect face in rage. His face was perfect because of cosmetic surgery, of course. From the stunning silver watch, to the flawless teeth, it was clear he was one of the ‘beautiful people’.

The runner was a bit taken back. “S-Sir, I told them not to go but-“

“No ‘buts! No excuses! You’re lucky Crooks isn’t here, he’s kill you! But I don’t kill, so take comfort in that-“

“That’s because you have your thugs kill people for you, am I correct?” A cold voice said behind him. It was Albert Randolf, chief lieutenant of Tedwards Crooks, and leader of the insurgency in Kyrall.

Varo scowled. “Those are rumors, and nothing more. Other businessmen angry at my success, and wanting to ruin my good name.” Rather ironic ‘good name’, because Varo was becoming synonymous with corruption in Neo Tyr.

“Ah, my mistake,” Randulf said with the same cold tone. “Now, you have work to be done. You have to get runners to make our soldiers stand down. I gave you one chance, you failed. It’s time for you to redeem yourself, Varo, and I don’t give third chances…” He said leaving.

Varo kept his scowl up. “Stupid old man…” He fumed, and then noticed the runner, “Well!? What are you standing there for!? Get moving!”

The runner gave a quick salute, “Yes sir! I will!” he said quickly and ran to fulfil the task given to him, to get the insurgency under control…

---

Kyrall was now pretty much void of all government officials and nobles. The only government services still in operation were the police, the post, and the food distribution. The police were rather crippled, however, as most of there most potent weapons to use against the insurgents had been stripped from them by the FKC.

The Under was in trouble. The central support column was under more stress than it was designed for. The loss of two minor support columns were not foreseen while the undercity was being drawn up, so this was a rather unforeseen circumstance. Of course, the pillar was still standing. It could stay up for a little longer. However, repairs were needed, and needed soon. The problem was, the government couldn’t repair it. It was all a matter of time before the stress overtook it, as it was to the other minor support columns, and if that happened, Kyrall would fall into the earth and take the lives of millions. It was all a matter if time…

---

Marimeta couldn’t believe it. Her people. The people she was to protect. Slaughtered. Massacred. All dead. Vassal was there, trying to get through to her, trying to convince her it wasn’t her fault. But the ruins of once proud landmarks told her otherwise. She knew what had happened, she knew to outlanders had done this. Neo Tyr had surrendered! Had they no shame! She was speechless, heartbroken, and enraged. She couldn’t let her people go into… these hands. She wouldn’t let her people fall into the hands of the Klatch; people of violence, bloodshed, and lies! No! She would need to keep her people’s sovereignty, no matter the price. The girl was quickly losing her innocence, how this would effect her maturity was anyone’s guess…

Meanwhile, the Rose agents were quickly scouting the area. Any threats would be neutralized. Rose agents were untrusting, anything that could attack them would in their eyes. It probably wasn’t their fault. The agents were once hooligans picked off the streets when they were young, poor and disillusioned. They were given a chance to serve and receive a very handsome pension when they retired. They were trained for years, and learned nothing but loyalty to the ones they served, and distrust to all others. But they had to be careful as well. If they shot at an outlander, it might inadvertently make a hostile situation for the princess. So they had to keep a medium between the two, risking life and limb. If they were to die today, they would rest easy knowing they completed their duty to the ones they had served.

---

Ross Kajar listened to Baldwin’s request, bit his lip in thought, and pondered. “In way of transporting, there’s not much I can offer you. Most of the best stuff we had was confiscated but the Klatch, all the armored cars, and the transports. We have some squad cars, but I doubt we have enough to transport a large group of people, we’ve had to pawn some off to keep operations working…” It was a bag sign that the police had to sell their own cars, a sign that the government had abandoned them.

---

In Dyelli Beyabi, Grant Dart held the assault rifle for a moment and gave the commissar a fierce gaze. “Fine,” he said in time, “I’ll return home, and you have my work, on the honor of House Dart, that I won’t harm one Dyellian soul as long as this occupation lasts. I won’t encourage dissention form your conquest.” He said bitterly, and made his way outside, but turned at the last moment.

“But don’t think I’ll pardone your nation. I see you Dyellians every bit as responsible for this butchering of my people. That is something we Tyrinians don’t forgive… nor forget…” He said, leaving the chamber.

A younger leuitenant looked up. “Even after those words, you can still trust Captian Dart. He’s a noble, and put the honour of his house on the line. That’s something that sin’t thrown around in every deal. He’ll go by your terms, and won’t try anything to weasle around them. He may not like you…” The officer said, watching the captain leave, “But he’ll certain;y follow you, for know…”

In Dyelli Beybi.

The Commisaar nodded to the Lieutenant, "I'll bear that in mind."

His tone was actually a lot more reasonable. He took a moment to draw a cigar from his jacket pocket, lighting it before following the noble out of the room.

Outside, the place was crowded by police officers in dark green uniforms, flak jackets and helmets. They all carried submachine guns, all of which they had trained on Dart. Apparently they didn't trust that the Commisaar had given him an unloaded gun. The Commisaar followed. Out on the water there was a small propellar driven flying boat that looked like it could carry 6 people, "Actually you arrogent b&57@^!), we were hoping you might remember invading us not so long ago. Civilians died then too you know, and as I seem to recall the Tzarists summarily executed all the police officers and soldiers they could find. I could hold you responsible for the death of my colleagues, but I don't, although from your magnamonious words of thanks I do tend to hold you responsible for not being overly furnished in the brain department."

"If you want to blame someone for your problems, blame yourselves, you were the ones who started the war. Just because we're a State of the same Federation as the Vrakians and North Germanians doesn't make us the same people. Heck we're humans for a start. Or is that too complicated for you?"

This was probably an example of the Dyelli Beybian temper. The Commisaar sniffed haughtily, "Let me let you in on a little secret, my Lord." he pronouced the last two words mockingly, "Four years ago I'd have hanged you, now unfortunatley, the fact that my victim was a noble doesn't excuse murder in the courts. I'm giving you a weapon, not because I don't feel the world would be a much better place if you were feeding the crocodiles, but because someone back at base thinks Neo Tyr would make a useful ally against certain elements of the Federation."

He let this sink in for a moment, "Now get out of here before I change my mind. Commisaar Dzerzhinsky is waiting for you in Cyro. We'll send you home after we've properly briefed you."

The guards apparently, took this as a signal to lower their weapons, "This way please Sir." one signalled towards a waiting boat, he at least sounded polite. Closer inspection of the man's uniform would reveal the words 'Armed Offenders Squad' emblazoned above a Sergeant's rank insignia.

The boat would take them out to the plane and from there to Cyro, the capital of Dyelli Beybi.

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

Baldwin swore, "That's not good... we'll see what we can do, but from the looks of things, I wouldn't be surprised if this didn't turn into a running street battle."

She shrugged, "We'll see anyway." she picked up her radio...

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

Apparently nobody had shot at her. Dashwood stood, dusting herself off, "Well it looks like we don't have any snipers."

The Princess though was begining to worry her, she was clearly distraught, and distraught people did silly things, "I know this is hard for you, but please, we can't stay out in the open like this. We must get moving. Stick with us and we will give you your revenge."

"If you do end up surrendering to Klatchian forces again." she added as an afterthough, "Please give me a minute or two to escape. Otherwise they will execute me for helping you to escape."

The girl seemed to have quite a pessimistic outlook on life. She seemed to constantly think people were trying to kill her. She was giving the Rose agent's funny looks...

Surrounding the government building

-Cease fire! Cease fire!

The tank shelling stopped, perhaps in time. Major Iruk was no structural engineer but he was under orders not to collapse the building. With an abrupt wave, troopers emerged from the APCs and, taking advantage of available cover, sprinted forward to the doors. The tanks and IFVs were to provide cover fire should they come under attack. In fact, one A donning of masks and the main doors were flung open, followed quickly by smoke grenades. This was repeated throughout the entire perimeter, with squads of troops approaching the nearest entrance to the large building.

In fact, one area did come under attack, but not from the building itself. An anti-tank rocker from a nearby building plowed into an APC, killing the men that didn’t make it out in time. The retaliation was brutal, as a hail of automatic fire and soon, a shell from the nearest T-90 tank, shot in the presumed direction. Probably some civilians were killed but hopefully the RPG attack, chalked up to insurgents, were dealt with – especially since a squad were detailed to follow up.

Inside, it was a different story. The Hogsweatians managed to set up some makeshift deffences and rigged booby traps. Even though the Vrakians were cautious casualties were taken. Unfortunately, innocent Tyrinians caught in the crossfire weren’t so lucky. Most managed to scramble under desks and huddle together when the shooting began, and once identified, were quickly and in some cases forcibly escorted out of the building.

The Hogsweatian troops were not so fortunate. Those that fought to the end were eliminated while those that surrendered found themselves bound and gagged as they were led out. After a few hours of fierce fighting, the building was devoid of any human life. The terrified Tyrinians were packed onto troop trucks and, after given a hasty meal of water and army rations, sent to their homes. The POWs were send to a containment facility located near the docks.

This was repeated throughout the city, and in total, nearly 2000 Hogsweatians had surrendered and awaited their fate.

====

Main Vrakian command post – Kyrall

General Kuril swore as he learned of the arrival of the Dyellian police. He swore again since this whole occupation was not working out. He received a report from an Engineering battalion that this “Under” was exhibiting signs of severe structural stress. Certainly the collapse of a skyscraper didn’t help things. He cursed once more as those pesky Mackistani…ah…he couldn’t be bothered…were somehow managing to send out news reports. He slammed his desk and bellowed at his aide.

-By the Great Octopus, find out about this “Under”. What is with building an whole city on top of another one? Get me an engineering report pronto. Bring me whoever is running these Dyellian police. And, I want those Mackistanian news reports shut down – now. Last time I checked Kyrall was not a free press zone but under FKC control. This means nothing gets out. And patch me through tothat Hirzig…Hirgiz…dammit why does everyone have such bloody hard names to pronounce? Patch me through to them.


Destiny’s Fist

Fleet Admiral Killamo sipped a strong coffee as he looked over the latest report from the General. Indeed, he mused, it would be very bad for the city to collapse. He shook his head and wondered. No Vrakian troops went to this “Under” but if the reports were true, then he had another plan in mind. He silently pondered what damage the battleship guns could do to the city…

General Steel had acquired a newfound respect amongst the troops he was commanding, most notably the small contingent of Legionnaires. They were arrogant and rarely spoke more than a few syllables to Officers not of their own unit, but since they had seen him fight with his troops they answered him coherently, some even chatted for a while. He had commanded respect before, but his prescence demanded more respect this time.

He still wore his body armour, helmet and carried his M4A2 RIS as he walked about the 2nd floor of the stadium. He was busy chatting to a Sniper lodged behind quite a few sandbags when a Liutenant rushed up to him in a hurry.

"General Steel, we have Vrakian General Kuril on the line, he's waiting to talk with you."

"Ok Liutenant, i'll follow you down."

The General finished up his chat with the sniper and got up to follow the young Liutenant down to the Command Post.

OOC: Vrak, I'm assuming that someone in your army thought of seeing if my news teams would leave if they were asked to, rather than using a big stick.

IC:
MNB Corporate HQ, Arn-Kasard, Macisikan

<Activity recorded on CCTV monitors 568 and 567>

<monitor 568: Secretary to COO's Office>
<suject 1: "Natalie" [voice ID confirmed: Secretary to COO]>
"Hello, MNB Corporate, how may I help you? ... Certainly sir, please hold on one moment...
"Mr. Kadars, we have a Vrakian officer on line 8 for you. Something about the news from Neo-Tyr ... yes Mr. Kadars, right away.
"Hello sir? Mr. Kadars is available, I'll put you through."

<monitor 567: COO's Office>
<suject 2: "Sam Kadars" [voice ID confirmed: COO]>
"Sam Kadars here... I see... Yes... Of course... I understand... we were going to pull them out tomorrow anyway; I hear it's not safe in Kyrall anymore... no, no problem; most foreigners can't pronounce it... Mac-is-i-kan-i... thank you... and a very good day to you too..."

"Natalie... engineering on line 3? What do they want? Yes, yes, put them through.... Hello Dr. Federov... good, how are you? ... so, what can I do for you? ... I see... yes... yes... well, as a matter of fact a Vrakian officer just phoned me... yes, got it in one... Now? ... certainly... no, we don't want that... Have you told MCR? OK... say hi to Maria for me... will do, bye."

"Natalie, put me through to our teams in Kyrall... yes, we're moving the schedule up; I want them out now. "

================
Arn-Maciska Corporate HQ, Arn-Maciska, Macisikan
"What about Neo-Tyr?"
"Drop it."
"Are you sure?"
"Look Ron, it's half a paragraph stuck behind the crossword. No-one is going to notice or care. Anyway, scuttlebut from MNB says the Klatchian High Command has its tits in a tangle about us being there."
"Prats. It makes them look worse when they kick us out."
"I know. It makes it look like they've got something to hide, war crimes for example... but leave it for the tabloids; our readers don't care."
"You're the boss. What about Rotovia?"
"Front page."

================

You are watching MNC News
"Good evening. Breaking news out of Kyrall; all news teams affiliated with the Macisikani National Broadcaster (MNB), have been evacuated tonight.

Rumour has it that it was done at the request of the Klatchian high command, but members of MNU's Engineering Faculty have stated that they no longer have confidence in the structural integrity of the undercity..."

Bump For Vrak

Grant Dart’s gaze looked at the Commissar. “You mean Vassal’s expeditionary force? An invasion? Those are pretty large words, considering Vassal’s presence most likely kept more peace in Fiord than leaving the Tzarists in full control. Do you think that that city would be in better shape if our lads weren’t there, and the Tzarists had full say in the insurrection?” Dart, giving a small smile of amusement when the Commissar insulted his intelligence. He was rather stressed out, he wasn’t happy with all the news of devastation in the homeland and he had quit smoking in the POW camp, cold fish style.

“You think I wanted the war, even the occupation? No. I wanted to stay home with my family and live my good life. But the one at the top wanted to line his pocket, so I was sent out. I never wanted it. And now, your allies rape my lands in the name of imperialism. Hell, the hatred of nobles has completely put your shallow vision into haze. Ever think the roles of nobles in Neo Tyr are different from in Dyelli Beybi? Go check out The True Noble’s Code? Or is that too complicated for you?" Dart finished, satisfied with his insult, and got in the boat. He gave a polite nod to the sergeant, and was on his way.

---

In Kyrall, Ross Kajar waited for Baldwin to finish her radio call before talking. “I remember you saying you were looking for the insurgency when I found you. May I inquire why?” He said, trying to take his mind off the chaos brewing several kilometers from where they were standing…

---

Elsewhere, near the twisted, smoldering heap that at one point was the Rotor Co. Building, Marimeta looked at Dashwood. “Revenge…? No. No.” She repeated, her voice changing from despair and hopelessness into the clear monotone of the government official. “I’m fine… We should get going.” She said. Inside, she was still angry at the world, but that had to be pushed aside for now. She couldn’t be selfish like that. Her people were counting on her.

Vassal nodded. “Right. Lucky for us we’re on the road that should bring us to the causeway if we follow it west. Assuming the roads clear…” He muttered. The four-way intersection, a very important and well-used intersection, had the east and north paths completely cut off. This would have to be cleared by the Klatch if they quickly wanted to have full access to Kyrall. Or, if they planned to shell the capital, could be ignored. “And don’t worry, Commissar Dashwood, if the Klatch show up you have my word that I’ll keep you alive.”

The Rose agent walked over. “It’s a bit of a small walk to the causeway. We’ll hug this side of the road,” He said, gesturing to what was once a sidewalk, “And we’ll be at the causeway in less than an hour, if we keep up a good pace. Princess, I’ll carry you, because you have little physical conditioning. I assume you can jog for awhile, Commissar. I’d advise we don’t take a car. Who knows what kind of target it’ll make in this… decolace.” He said. And so he put the physically petit Marimeta on his back, and started to jog. Vassal followed, and the last agent waited for Dashwood to start before proceeding.

---

The Government Building stood. It took lots of damage, yet it stood. Some of the few employees still standing were felled, by not a huge amount. However, it did take substantial damage and wiped out several important records. Everyday it seemed more and more likely that the government would not last…

The ending of the new reports was also perhaps worse for the occupation than better. They were not very comprehensive, but they were reliable and gave the Tyrinians a general idea of what was going on, as the FKC shut down all local stations. That was lost now, all news sources were cut off, save one. The crazy, jingoistic, baiest as hell pirate broadcasts that were on the air. Any other period of time, they would have been laughed at. Yet with no other source of news the Tyrinains took this as fact. Which, considering the outlandish ‘news’ coming form it, would not help any PR for the FKC.

General Steel had acquired a newfound respect amongst the troops he was commanding, most notably the small contingent of Legionnaires. They were arrogant and rarely spoke more than a few syllables to Officers not of their own unit, but since they had seen him fight with his troops they answered him coherently, some even chatted for a while. He had commanded respect before, but his prescence demanded more respect this time.

He still wore his body armour, helmet and carried his M4A2 RIS as he walked about the 2nd floor of the stadium. He was busy chatting to a Sniper lodged behind quite a few sandbags when a Liutenant rushed up to him in a hurry.

"General Steel, we have Vrakian General Kuril on the line, he's waiting to talk with you."

"Ok Liutenant, i'll follow you down."

The General finished up his chat with the sniper and got up to follow the young Liutenant down to the Command Post.

The Vrakian took a swig of whiskey before he began. Then he pushed the intercom button, allowing him to speak. Walruses were, after all, uncomfortable handling telephones.

"General Steel?" began General Kuril in English, "Ah...yes. How do you do? First, I want to thank you for your assistance so far. Still, I am concerned about some of the damage you have caused...er...yes...the skyscraper."

A pause.

"I do not like fighting these insurgents. Urban warfare can be bloody. But, that's not my biggest concern at the moment. I've just received word from one of our engineering battalions. It seems that this city is more structurally unstable than we thought. Right...the under. We couldn't confirm anything until it was actually located...could have been rumours. But now, well, we have to take a different approach. We can't knock buildings down it seems. At least, anymore unless the insurgency becomes...well...unreasonable."

A sigh.

"I'm open to ideas."

====

To: All FKC and allied forces
From: General Kuril - Vrak Ground Forces Commander - Neo Tyr
Subject: structural instability

It appears that the city of Kyrall is structurally unstable. We strongly advise not to completely damage any more buildings, especially civilian structures. I am sending more engineers to assess the situation and will keep you updated.

====

No less than five engineering batallions that usually form part of the logistical train for the regular forces, accompanied by full escort, made their way to the various Under entrances - as provided by their allies. They were ordered to perform a more thorough assessment and, if necessary, begin to make repairs.

Meanwhile, the Vrakian PR officer finished speaking with the Maciskanan official. He shrugged his shoulders and then moved onto his next assignment - curbing the media and snuffing out those still pesky radio broadcasts that seem to be still existing.

General Steel put down the large black field telephone. It clicked into its holder and the General turned to the Commander of the Legionnaires, Liutenant General Bradley Hammond, "Well...good news and bad news. General Kuril has asked the National media of that Macisikan nation to leave, and they have complied, one less bad PR outlet to think of. Anyway, our destruction of the two skyscrapers, it would seem, has structurally damaged this 'Under' facility...and the problem is the idiots who built this ugly city just happend to build it on top of the Under, so basically if it collapses we're screwed."

"Now that is some news, i trust the Vrakians are sending in some engineers?"

"Yeap, a few squads...i think we'll send a squad of our own, is that platoon of yours ready to go soon enough?"

"Aye, i'll go and talk it over with them, better send some Peacekeepers with them, just in case."

"Yes..." A smile creased the General's face. "I've just had an excellent idea...we'll get two of those Spec Ops Artillery boy's to go with the Engineers...they can do some small-time recon of the entrances and layout (Obviously this would be secret IC), that way we'll have some good info if we have to go down that road."

"Ok, sounds like a plan...shall i make the necessary arrangements?"

"Would you? I have to do a Perimeter check in a few minutes so i'd be grateful...the spec ops guys are usually up on the roof at this time."

-COH-

OOC: Obviously, with the exception of the broadcast, no-one knows about this because it's happening hundreds of kilometres away.

IC:
You are watching the Macisikani News Network

"... and MNB has withdrawn the last of its news crews from Neo-Tyr; with them gone, there are no longer any of our reporters in the country. This comes on the heel of a request from the Klatchian High Command, currently Vrak, to withdraw such crews. The Macisikani Red Cross has stated that it would refuse to release status reports to the public.

In sport-"

The TV switched off.

Lord Carthach deSoto, Director-General of the MCR, glared at the TV.
Idiot Klatchians he thought angrily. Of all the damn fool things to do!

Lord deSoto sighed, and then stared at the latest status report from Neo-Tyr glumly. He knew exactly what was going to happen; he'd seen it happen before.

Aside from the fact that the only news to the Tyrinians was all bad news from pirate stations, there was no longer any news coming into the Empire.

With no new input, the big, respectable media channels would rehash the old stuff for a day or two, then dropp Neo-Tyr in its entirety from their broadcasts.

As predicted by the Times Editor a day earlier and several hundred kilometres to the south, the tabloids and less respectable outlets would rave on about possible coverups, war crimes, conspiracy theories, and then drop it when a new crisis would catch their eyes about five days later.

Their attention drifting, caught in other places, the public would begin to forget about Neo-Tyr; private donations to aid agencies would dry up. Probably within the month.

The MCR, doing its best not to be expelled, had already cut down on its status reports to the Director-General considerably; only the barest facts were reported. Suddenly there wasn't enough information to make the case for access to the Medical Stockpile to the Parliament. The M.P.'s had already quoted Stalin and told him "one death is a tradgedy; a million is a satistic. My Lord, statistics won't cut the bread in the Reps any more; the Deputies maybe, but they want out of Neo-Tyr anyway. Bring us tradgedies to take to the Reps". deSoto sighed. He was a good man, and he cared about the people of Neo-Tyr but its not like I can wave my magic wand and pull human-interest tragic stories out of my arse to convince the politicians!

In about a week, Parliament would, for the first time, refuse to open up the medical stockpile to the Red Cross. They would do it again about three days later. And again. And again.

After a fortnight, he'd stop asking before they gagged him.

In two months, starved of resources, the MCR would have to withdraw.

After three or four, aid would probably be officially suspended, and never resumed.

The whole process would take less than half a year from start to finish.

With a bitter curse, Lord deSoto dropped Neo-Tyr from first on the priority list, to third. He knew that now, without it being in the public eye, it would drop like a stone.

In the offices of CareMacisikan, the same scene unfolded. And in MsF's Macisikani HQ. And again in the offices of the Church-based charities. In every single one, the Directors cursed the Klatchians in general, and the Vrakians in particular, then began the process of consigning Neo-Tyr to history.

=====================

MCR Internal Report: TOP SECRET AND MOST URGENT

...we estimate that, at current rate of consumption, we will have exhausted on-hand supplies for the Neo-Tyr operations within two months. At that time, if further stocks have not been supplied, we will have to shut this operation down...

... it is imperative that either news reports resume, or a public appeal for aid is made from a leading Tyrinian... preferably in Open Parliament... otherwise, we will have no choice but to leave.

The flying boat would have held about ten people. Now it had 5 of the suspicious looking police offices in the dark green as well as Dart. None of them seemed inclined to talk to Dart, answering any questions he might ask with a no commital grunt, although there were always 2 watching him.

Onboard, one by one they shed their helmets and balaclavas. There was one woman in the group. Dyelli Beybi seemed to have a lot of women in the police and military.. When they talked at all it was to each other, and always kept their voices low enough so as not to be overheard. Even so words drifted through. Apparently Dart was going to somewhere called Benjia house.

Below them the river stretched long and straight South towards the Sea. Huge flat bottomed barges moved back and forth, with the occasional smaller craft, and the odd Kriegsmarine River patrol vessel. To either side there was intensive farmland dotted with the occasional small town or village. At one point they passed over a huge sprawling city. The air was filled with a dense smog. One of the officers grunted that they were passing Alexigrad. Dyelli Beybi's largest city.

While the fringes of the city were still in the distance, the river began to widen, breaking into a series of smaller channels, but with one, deep cut cannal straight down the centre. Naval vessels were moored here, and off in the distance, far to the South, they were approaching another city, nestled among the marshes. Cyro.

Cyro was highrise. Very dense, and spread across a series of small islands. In the centre, one island held a huge 17th century palace. The plane touched down in the water not far from a land airport. A few minutes later, a small boat with another uniformed Commisaar approached.

The Sergeant, a shaven headed heavy set man, who was quite tall by Dyelli Beybian standards, decided it was time to talk, "Do you have any questions Sir, before they take you to Benjia house? Once you're off this boat you'll be with the Cheka, and those girls don't give straight answers."

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

Kyrall

Baldwin looked uneasy at the question, "We're trying to establish contact. We figured if we can get a dialogue going we can establish some kind of rapport and help to restore order. Not having all these Northern hillbillies hanging around would also help."

Apparently she didn't like the other Klatchians. Dyelli Beybi was just about the most Southern State in the Federation (excluding Jiggady).

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

On the other side of town, Dashwood sniffed disdainfully, "Of course I can keep up. I've had training you know."

And she did keep up. Admirably well.

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

MNB's broadcast had not gone unnoticed by KTV who had embedded journalists with the Dyelli Beybian troops. It was only a matter of minutes after MNB had annouced their last journalists had pulled out, before KTV had rung their offices, offering them, for 10 Million Kronors ($15 Million US) access to the same live feeds from the warzone that they would be bringing in, just as soon as regular troops disembarked in Kyrall. For the time being they were also offering $100 Kr a minute to buy stories being fed out of Easterling or the High Seas fleet, where they already had reporters on the ground. INcluded in the proposed deal was a clause stating they would sell stories to no other networks.

MNB listened to the KTV offer, thanked them for their generous offer, and then politely refused; saying that as far as they were concerned, Neo-Tyr was no longer news. In private they secretly admitted to themselves that the real reason was that they simply didn't trust a Klatchian News service to give them unbiased information.

The last story aired on the big Macisikani news channels before they dropped Neo-Tyr started with a rather terse speech from the Junior First Minister, Duke Stepan Alagarros, who bluntly summed up the growing attitudes;
"Look, we have more important things to deal with. What is happening in Neo-Tyr is a terrible tragedy, yes, but we have to be realistic. We have to remember that there more important issues to deal with. Like, oh, I don't know, maybe the Rotovian Presidential Crisis; Neo-Tyr is a distant nation which we only really know via the MCR and the TV, Rotovia is a major trading partner and sees us as their friend and potential ally. Rotovia is far more important, and, frankly, we need a free hand to deal with them; we don't need to be caught up in the affairs of an imploding nation under a fiasco of an occupation."

There was a half-hearted appeal for continuing aid from the elderly Duke Carlos deSoto, Carthach's uncle, but not many paid attention, and even fewer gave it serious thought.

Duke Alagarros' comments were the harshest, but those were better than the majority of speeches on the subject. At least the Junior First Minister had bothered to show that he cared enough to inject emotion into his speech.

Neo-Tyr was fading fast from Macisikani minds; another, more urgent, crisis had caught their attention.

But Parliament continued, much to deSoto's surprise, to open the stockpile to MCR for Neo-Tyr without objecting; for now, supplies would not be an issue.

For now.

===========================

From: Chief Director of Operations, Neo-Tyr
To: All Regional, Area and Hospital Directors
Subject; Continuance of Work
TOP PRIORITY

All stations are to continue to operate at full capacity in the immediate future, unless the undercity in your area shows signs of imminent collapse. Otherwise everyone is to remain at their post.

All stations are reminded to ensure proper shift rotations remain in place.

- CDoO

===========================

From: Chief Quartermaster Kyrall
To: Director of Operations, Kyrall
Subject; Supply situation
TOP PRIORITY

Another shipment has arrived from the Empire proper, however we have been alerted that such shipments are no longer a reliable source of supplies.

The stockpile remains available to us for now, but we must consider alternative means of supplying our operations.

- QC,K

Apparently KTV was not easily put off, it was only an hour or two before they rang again. The person at the end of the line was different, his voice was strangely muffled, "What about a story dealing with gross corruption in Klatch and State sponsored war crimes?"

There was a pause at the other line, "You have exactly 20 seconds to make up your mind whether you want the story, or else I'll just ring another Station. I imagine this will get very good viewing figures."

The response from MNB was immediate, but rather terse, "Two things; number one, we're a government owned broadcaster, like the BBC. We don't actually need ratings. Number two, how is this news? Klatch as a whole has a rather bad reputation around here as it is, but you've got our interest. But as long as the story can stand up to scrutiny, how much do you want?"

The entire monologue was delivered in one breath, and with five seconds to spare.

"Actually..." the caller's voice was still muffled, he didn't sound like a journalist, although he was clearly calling off the KTV line.

There was a long pause, he seemed to be considering something, "500,000 Kronors. Running time is 30 minutes, and I think you'll find the information to be entirely factual and well referenced. It outlines the rather cavalier attitude many States within the Federation have shown towards the constitution that supposedly binds them. Needless to say we could cause some very major problems for our Network if we were to air this. The Provincial Government in Dyelli Beybi allows the press to do whatever it likes, but I doubt National Government would be at all happy. Needless to say we are happy if you claim all credit for the work."

"You doubt that your national government would be at all happy...? Vrak..." The MNB man's voice trailed off. There was the busy silence of someone thinking very unhappy thoughts very fast.

Then he resumed, this time with a ring of fear in his voice; "In that case, no. We here at MNB have got no desire for His Imperial Majesty's Government to hang us in the hope that the sight of our corpses will stop a Klatchian invasion. Thank you all the same, but no. Good day to you."
With that, he hung up.

Magistrate Raash DuVaul was unhappy. It wasn't good that the pillars (especially the central one) were under stress, but the outlanders had been pouring down into his city. The citizens of the Under wasn't happy with the occupation, like all Tryinians, but they really weren’t under military presence. These engineers made it seem like it would change. DuVaul offered the FKC the aid of his men, the ones who had been responsible for building the undercity. If the Under collapsed, it would mean the deaths of millions, making it vital he kept the pillars up...

---

On the surface, Marimeta, Vassal, and the agents made their way through what was once a very important road. The stench of death and destruction was everywhere. Marimeta had her eyes closed, determined not to see the destruction, or at least not yet. Vassal kept his gaze at the ground. The agents were unfazed; they had no emotion. It was fair that Vassal and Marimeta tried to keep their eyes away, however. This was, without shadow of a doubt, the worst tragedy that had ever occurred on Neo Tyrinian soil. It's hard to blame the two nobles for keeping their eyes off the carnage.

However, after a long jog, they had made their way to the causeway. Kyrall International could not be build on the island, there simply wasn't enough room. To remedy that factor, the airport was built on the ocean, and a long causeway connected it to shore. The windy winter winds stung Vassal's face as he looked up. "We're here..." He muttered. They were out of most of the building's fallout, so the airport was undamaged.

Vrak's forces had re-enforced the causeway, and there were both soldiers stationed and heavy weapons placed on it. If they were going to sneak in, it would be somewhat difficult. Vassal would undoubtedly be noticed, he was wearing his uniform form the navy. Marimeta probably wouldn’t be picked out. The FKC forces probably wouldn’t have committed her face to memory, and just by changing her hair and putting on common clothes, she could probably sneak around her own people, for a time. The Rose agents were clad in black with dark glasses. The quintessential government spooks. They would be noticed. One of the agents looked at Dashwood. "Here is the airport. What would you have us do?" He said coldly.

---

In another side of town, Ross Kajar sighed. "I'd doubt you'd have much luck. I tried to bring the insurgency down and... Their leader," Kajar said, choosing his words for the mentioned person, "Stated that the insurgency would only stand down after a full recall of Klatcian forces. Then your allies decided to be idiots and send me here on a wild goose chase to find 'Commander Sybil' while they shelled the unoccupied museum. I could have told them there was nothing inside..." Kajar said with much frustration.

---

Over the skies of Dyelli Beyabi, Grant Dart sat alert on the boat ride, watching the land under him go by. Dart actually liked landscapes, and was rather interested in the land under him, land he'd never seen before. He did keep the 'I hate you all' attitude, though, and kept his distance from the Dyellians.

When the plane landed, Dart left and turned his gaze to the Sergeant, "I have no questions. Take me to the 'Cheka'," he muttered, his eyes squinting in the sun.

In Gaius Trisken Hospital, a North Germanian soldier was brought in. Like the others, he had been injured in the fighting.

"Penetrating trauma from a gunshot; one wound, no exits. Possible pneumothorax. And this."
The paramedic indicated the young man's face, which had a compress on it.
The doctor bent down and carefully lifted it.
"By the saints! His eyes!" one of the nurses exclaimed.
There were little pieces of shrapnel poking out of the upper part of the solidier's face.
"His ears have also been got. We think that it's affected his hearing," the paramedic continued.
"Doctor?"
"The gunshot wounds and burns are no problem." the doctor replied calmly. "But this... that's going to need serious reconstructive surgery, and soon," he looked around. "Get me the Director of Operations; we need him taken to Arn-Maciska."
"A-Mac?" the paramedic asked, using the shorthand name of the Imperial Capital. "Why A-Mac? Couldn't the Klatch take care of him?"
"Maybe. But they can do complete ocular reconstruction in A-Mac. He's gonna need all the help he can get." the doctor shook herself. "Let's move people."
They sprang into action, stabilising what they could.

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

Less than half an hour later a message was sent to the North Germanian command in Kyrall;

One of your soldiers has been brought into a hospital under our control having sustained a number of injuries. I have been informed that the nature of his injuries is quite severe, and we are unable to treat him effectively in the current environment. While his injuries are not lifethreatening, they are quite debilitating, and will affect his capacity to function as a normal member of society.

We are requesting your permission and co-operation to have this man airlifted out of Neo-Tyr and taken to Arn-Maciska as he requires immediate reconstructive surgery. It is our considered medical opinion that if this request is refused, this man will be permanently affected; he will be totally blind and partially deaf.

When he has fully recovered from these injuries, he will be returned to North Germania, or to a destination of your choosing.

This is a matter of the utmost urgency.

We await your response.
Macisikani Red Cross, Director of Operations, Kyrall

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

In the ruins of Kyrall's city centre, the MCR people pulled more wounded from the wreckage.
The few uninjured civilians who were with them had been conscripted as manual labour to lift heavy objects.
An insurgent, fleeing deeper into the city, came skidding around a corner and surveyed the scene in front of him.
Rows of rust-red rags had been placed on the ground; the stench of burning meat filled the air. Nearby medical teams were trying desperately to save the life of a child, pinned by a fallen street light to the ground.
With a start the insurgent realised what those rags actually were. They were people, crushed beyond recognition. A line of bloody pulps, bits of bone sticking out here and there, everything stained red, and the smell of burning flesh in the air.
The insurgent turned and threw up, heaving until his stomach was empty, and then retching again.
A Red Cross man regarded the insurgent stoically for a moment, then pulled another rag out of the ruins of the building in front of him, while a Tyrinian civilian lifted a slab of concrete, revealing something that looked like a squashed tomato.
Somewhere in that pile of rubble and bodies was another person, crying for help.

"General Steel, sir?"

The General looked up from his desk and leaned back in his chair, facing the Liutenant that had just walked in. "What is it son?"

"We just intercepted this from the MRC, you know those Red Cross guys...here's the transcript."

The General eyed the piece of paper for a minute before looking up at the Liutenant again. "This was sent to the North Germanians then?"

"Yes."

"Ok, we'll do two things, first get onto General Grippen and tell him we can get this soldier seen to out on the HNS Neptune. Contact them and tell them there are adequate facilities to deal with his situation. Then contact the Red Cross guys and tell them to stop broadcasting on an unsecure frequency as the insurgents can also hear them, then tell them of our intentions"

"Yes sir, right away."

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

ENCRYPTED MESSAGE

TO: Gen. Grippen
FROM: Gen. Steel, CHMC
SUBJECT: Wounded Soldier

General, we intercepted a message that would, by this time, probably be in your hands. It was from the Red Cross about one of your wounded soldiers. We have facilities that can treat this man out at sea on the HNS Neptune, we can keep him there for as long as is needed for him to recover, the medical team there is top flight and they say they'll have him patched up A-SAP. Just give the word and i'll tell the Red Cross that we'll pick him up.

General Steel, CHMC, Neo Tyr.

MESSAGE ENDS

-COH-

‘Sir! I found a lift of some form!’
‘What?’ asked the officer, as he walked towards the civil protection soldier or “Metro cop” the regular grunts, not like the more elite Shock phalanx troops.
‘I found this structure tucked in this side street sir,’ He pointed to the small squat building with a pair of double doors. ‘By the button next to the doors, I’d have said it was a lift, and it’s too short to go up, so it must go down.’
‘Well done lad, I’ll get Major Renold’ he turned and got onto his comms unit.
A few minutes later several trucks rolled up, and men, dressed in the full gear of the civil protection rebellion suppression. Which was mainly black body armour, and a similar coloured facemask, each carried a small, snub nosed sub machine gun.
‘What was this about an entrance?’ One of them asked, a golden dove shone on his black armour.
‘Here Major.’ The officer motioned, to the small building.
‘You five, in there and go check on where it is, report back as soon as possible, no shots, understood?’
The black cladded warrior nodded and motioned his squad towards the lift.
The doors slammed shut behind them and they merely waited.

After a minute or two the doors pinged open again.
‘It’s the under sir, what should we do?’
‘Go give them a visit.’ The Major muttered, a sly grin appearing behind the mask, he then turned back to the other trucks
‘Dismount!’
Many of the same looking men got off of the trucks, all clad in black, each holding an SMG, and one small “Panzer Faust” style weapon was strapped to the back of one of the soldiers in each “squad”.
‘Off you go then’ the Major urged as he motioned to the men already in the lift.
With a grin the soldier pushed the button, it was going to be a fun evening.

In KTV Headquarters, a uniformed man swiveled on his chair, "Cowards. Can't trust foreigners, they don't have a backbone."

A plain clothed man next to him was looking worried, "Well we can't air that."

The plain clothed man found it worrying how the moustachioed, villainous looking man in front of him was grinning so broadly, "You'll still film it though." his uniformed counterpart's voice suggested there would be problems if he didn't, "We'll just have to find an alternative broadcaster."

This wasn't very reassuring, what the blasted man was suggesting... well ordering was akin to treachery against the Federation, and while Dyelli Beybi allowed the press to say what it liked, the other Klatchian States were somewhat more authoritarian, "Anyone in mind?"

"Oh yes." the man in the uniform was grinning very broadly now, "Never assume that the Cheka doesn't have considerable resources."

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

Elsewhere in Cyro a Sergeant assigned to the AOS grunted, "They'll be here in a minute Sir."

It was an end to any communication from the Sergeant, who switched over to some peculiar slavic sounding language to share a joke with the rest of his troops.

It took another five minutes or so for the boat to find the side of the plane. Almost immediately, the door opened, "Harris. Escort the Gentleman please. When you're finished report back to HQ."

"Aye aye Sir." one bulky looking man strapped his helmet back on, although he left his balaclava off.

The boat held a Commisaar. Commisaars wore a grey military style uniform, in stark contrast to the dark AOS colours. Harris escorted Dart onto the small boat. The Commisaar was young, probably in her mid to late 20s, and held her long black hair held back in a pony tail under her cap.

"You armed him?" she questioned Harris.

"No Ma'am."

"Then how did he get a weapon?"

"Commisaar Quentin's idea."

This quietened the girl somewhat, apparently Commisaar Quentin was important, "I trust it isn't loaded?"

"No, Ma'am."

This seemed to be an end to it. The boat took them to a jetty at Cyro airport, built on reclaimed land from the swamp, "If you make a break for it." the Commisaar advised, "Don't go for the swamp. The crocs will eat you for sure."

On the jeti they were transfered into an unmarked white Rover. The Commisaar took the front seat, while Dart was seated in the back next to Harris.

Cyro was an old city, with large rennaissance style palaces interspersed with high rise office blocks. The streets were clean and patroled by an abnormally large number of uniformed police officers, most of whom carried nothing more offensive than a truncheon and a walkie talkie. Cyro looked like a wealthy city, one that had been wealthy for at least 500 years.

Momentarily the car passed along a waterfront section of road, flanked by a low stone wall, before arching over a bridge onto another of the many small islands that made up the city. The bridge commanded a good view of the Monstrous houses of Parliament, once known as the Royal Palace. It was a truly enormous quare building, covering what would be nearly four city blocks, but rose only around 4 stories high. On the outside it looked like some construction workers were doing something to the facade. It had quite a large amount of scafolding up the East side of the building anyway.

Finally the car pulled up outside a a multi-storey office block. An older building had once stood here, and the builders had kept the facade. 100 metres before the building, the car passed a police checkpoint, manned by blue uniformed Metropolitan police. The driver showed some papers and they were quickly waved in, "I'll park her." the driver spoke, "I'll drop you lot off at the main entrance."

"I'll stick with the car." Harris put in, "Once this one is dropped off that's the end of my resposibility."

A large sign at the door read 'Benjia House'. Inside Dart and the Commisaar passed through a metal detector, Dart's rifle was taken off him, and a ticket given to him. Apparently he was number 1194.

The main foyer of the building was abuzz with plainclothed CID and Cheka going about their business, The Cheka never slept. Neither did the CID, but they were so much more mundane.

The Commisaar took them to an elevator. It had no buttons in the interior, but required a swipe card to opperate. When used, oddly, it went downwards for quite a distance, probably reminding Dart of the under back home. When it hit the bottom, and the doors opened, they opened into a narrow hallway guarded by two blue uniformed met officers with assault rifles. The wall behind them was solid steel, and very thick, with just one small doorway, big enough for one person, leading into the interior.

Identification was required again here, before finally the pair went through to another wall. This one was made of glass, thick bullet proof glass with a single double doored chamber for access to the interior. This was closely watched on the other side, by a plain clothed Cheka officer, beyond him was a long oblong shaped glass sided corridoor surrounding a large open planned office. Other corridoors led off from the outside, amlong with a myriad of glass fronted offices and meeting rooms.

The Commisaar steeped into the camber, which closed behind her. All she seemed to do to get through the second door was press a glowing button. The entry door opened again to allow Dart entry.

It closed behind him, "Ok." the voice of the Commisaar, spoke over the intercom, "That button does a finger print scan, so please don't press it or you'll get locked in..."

A few moments later the second door opened. This was the Headquarters of the Cheka. The heart of Dyelli Beybi's secret police and intelligence network, and apart from the security, the whole place seemed fairly mundane. There were even a few clairs in the small foyer for guests to sit at, "The man you're to see has been called away on business." the Commisaar said, "So for now you will wait here. Please do not attempt to cross onto the office floor."

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

Meanwhile in Kyrall

"Right hrrm ok." Dashwood was starting to pace now. She kept looking at Vassal as if expecting him to come up with something.

"Well. If you guys." she adressed the Rose agents, "Hid yourselves in the rubble or something and started taking potshots at the rest of us... and the guards. Maybe even hit a guard, it will look more realistic... anyway, I'll barrel over to the guards, claim we're Dyelli Beybian agents who have been discovered and need to get back to our plane quickly. If anyone asks for your IDs we' tell them, since you two were undercover you weren't stupid enough to carry them, but that there is proof of identification back at the plane."

"Now we'll need some good Dyelli Beybian names, for you two, how about Lorna Trescothic and Andrew Lewis? You're both Assistant Political Officers, 2nd class."

"You." she pointed at Vassal, "Are from Tretower, a small village outside of Bath. It's North east of the city on the irrigated land."

"You, Princess, were from downtown Cyro... you both report to Commisaar Felix Dzerzhinsky and nobody else... can you do a Dyellian accent, how about an Irish one?" They were practically the same after all.

She paused, looking slightly embarresed at having assumed she was in Command, "I hope nobody minds if I suggest we fly to Easterling ASAP?"

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

Elsewhere in town Commisaar Baldwin was giving Kajar what could only be described as a funny look, "They aren't our allies, Sir, they're our countrymen. Dyelli Beybi is a province of the Federation, the Capital is in Vrak.... I must agree though the Northerners have more guns than brain cells... sadly they also control all the political muscle of the Federation."

Baldwin seemed about to leave it at that, but then continued, "We see no point in a war which is, frankly, hurting Dyelli Beybi's import sector. We want to see a conclusion to this whole unfortunate business as soon as possible, and if that means using more covert methods to ensure that your countrymen see things from our point of view, then so be it."

Kyrall International Airport

Since the airport was considered of prime importance, the Vrakians placed a fair number of troops in and around the airport proper and the causeway itself. At the entrance to the causeway on the mainland side, roadblocks were set up in a city block area in an attempt to control all traffic. The causeway itself was long ago cleared of any booby traps and was regularly patrolled. The airport, while sustaining a fair bit of damage was being effectively repaired by the engineering battalions. All of the buildings pertaining to the airport were swept of lingering insurgents and Hogsweatian troops. Obviously, air traffic was restricted to only FKC and allied forces and a nearby Vrakian aircraft carrier provided any needed air interception, not to mention the few AA systems scattered throughout the island. In the water, the ever-present Kravoli patrol boats were seen in and around the airport and larger ships – ready to intercept and engage any attacks.

Still, most of the regular infantry had been replaced by reservists which were not as well-trained as the regulars. Which means that attempts at infiltration could be a little bit easier.


The Under

The Vrakian colonel, after having found out the whereabouts of Magistrate Raash DuVaul made it a point to contact him immediately. Upon doing so, he bowed as per the Vrakian way and made polite noises. He also took any flack about the occupation with an easy stride and shrug of his massive shoulders, concerning himself only with the structural integrity of the Under.

“Seems there be a problem here, Magistrate DuVaul.”


Elsewhere in Kyrall

Although the patrols were steady, losses were slowly becoming, well, uncomfortable. The artillery units were the first to be pulled out and a reworking of the entire strategy to deal with the insurgency was being prepared.

On his command ship, Admiral Killamo idly played a game of chess to relieve some of his stress.

‘Get this off of my back click, bip ’ The sound that was made for external comms through the “snout” of the mask, he had clicked the button by accident, but one of his comrades moved over to him and took the tube from his back, he pulled the sights up and snapped it into place.
The doors slide open and the soldiers, guns in hand ran out, the door closing behind them, shuttling back up to collect another squad.

‘No welcome with warm arms? Bastards, better teach them a lesson, heh heh. click, blip’
A tram rumbled into view at the end of the street, it slowed to a halt, and people began to busy themselves, getting off and on.
‘Rocket!’ the soldier yelled into his internal comms link, he then clicked the trigger.
The rocket hissed and roared as it began its journey from the tube, with a scream and a puff of smoke it roared into the tram, punching a rather sizable hole into the side, and peppering the tramcar’s innards with shrapnel, some debris whipping around.

‘Get them!’ The sergeant yelled, he then clicked the trigger on his SMG and began peppering the nearby civilians with fire, his squad members following suit.

Another team arrived at the lift.
‘Two to every house, capture is preferable, but I don’t think it’ll matter if you’re a tad heavy handed.’
The three groups began to cleanse the buildings near to the lift, groups popping down every few minutes, another set of five to either “clean up” or capture so called “Insurgents” who would simply be deported back to Midlonia proper, which was always a slight shortage in the Greater Republic.
Every so often there would be a burst of SMG fire, or a grenade exploding, announcing a rather unglamorous epitaph to a person, or family.

Back on the surface, a slow, but steady group of “insurgents” were coming up the lift under close guard, media blackout was keeping this operation under wraps, but just in case, the tarpaulin was pulled firmly down on the trucks that headed back to the Midlonian compound, the prisoners would then be packed into, to want of a better term, boxes and shipped back to Midlonia via a Type 10 “Carry All” craft.

The Legionnaire Engineers from the 10th Foreign Legion Regiment (Airborne Engineers) had been with their comrades from the 9th FLR (Airborne Peacekeepers) for a little over two weeks.

Their primary function had been to assess the structural integirty of the stadium and its basements. The Basements lay directly above the 'Under' they were told and there was a small entrance nearby, discovered by a Marine Patrol a while ago. When the two skycrapers had collapsed a surge of around 50 people had rushed out from the entrance, scattering in all directions.

Every now and then someone would come up and the Legionnaires on Patrol (Since the skyscrapers were blown up the Legionnaires have been patrolling with some Marine Support, apart from that the Marines are for security and a Rapid Reaction Force) would search them, twice they had found insurgents with weapons, not expecting to be caught so quickly they hadn't time to get their weapons and they had been handed over to the Kyrall police.

Now a group of 10 Engineers had turned up at the entrance, disembarking from a Marine AAAV, pulling on heavy rucksacks and checking their M4A2's.

The entry door was security locked from the inside and to get in, an intercom and security pass was used. There was no answer from the intercom and no sign of any cops so a quick 'door charge' blew the heavy door of its hinges and the engineers quietly and calmly walked in, not wanting to cause any more of a stir with the mainly civilian populace. The Legionnaires, coming from a different Colony than most of the Marines wanted to distance themselves from the brutality the Marines had showed. Most Civilians knew the Legionnaires as most wore Red Beret's and black BDU's instead of the MARPAT camo uniforms of the Marines.

-COH-

Bump

Kyrall...

Message to: Macisikani Red Cross; Hirgizstan High Command; Kyrall
From: General Grippen; Kyrall
Subject: Wounded Soldier

I greatly appreciate your help. We do not have the medical capabilities in
Kyrall to deal with his wounds you have described. However, we also do not have
a transport ready to take this man to a proper facility for treatment. Our ally,
Hirgizstan, has offered to take our soldier to a medic ship of theirs. Though,
I would rather he be taken to an actual hospital.

If Hirgizstan would bring this man to a Macisikani hospital, and if the MRC
agrees, we would appreciate it very much. Any monetary reimbursement can
and will be made to save this man's life.

I thank you both for your constant help.

- General Grippen; Kyrall

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

Guardpost #119; Kyrall...

The soldiers were getting incredibly angry at the fact that they were not given any military leave. However, they had been countering their anger using two methods: 1) Abusing the enormous amounts of Morphine given to them at their Guardpost and constantly having more brought in, and 2)Shooting Tyrinnians indiscriminately...

Machinegunner Kahn had just injected a shot of Morphine and lit a cigarette.
He was idly tapping the safety trigger on a long-range flamethrower he had justreceived through weapons order. It was a recent invention by the GermanianReichswehr Weapons Development Department. It looked similar to a power-washer, but with the fuel tanks hidden behind the sandbags and a very long barrel.

Translated from German...

Machinegunner Kahn: "I'm going to test this thing next time I see a
group of Neo's. I've been sleeping on a damn aluminum and cotton cot for
three weeks now. And I smell like shit."

The Guardpost laughed and Kahn smiled slightly, and blew out a long stream of tobacco smoke into the cold air. A light snow was falling. Kahn shook the snow flakes out that had been collecting in his blond hair.

He closed his eyes only for a few moments before he heard the sound of feet shuffling.

Translated from German...

Machinegunner Kahn: "Neo's! Watch this!"

Kahn flicked off the safety button, and a flint strike lit a small, blue fire at the end of the flamethrower.

He screamed obscenities at them in German before sending a column of blue/white fire at the group of Neo Tyrinians.

Nordmann lifted his assault rifle and fired a few shots in their legs, collapsing them to the ground.

As the 19th Gewehr Korps watched more intently, they saw something they didn't expect -- these were not adult Neo's. They were school children, and Kahn had just set eight of them on fire.

Translated from German...

Machinegunner Kahn: "To Hell with them. They'd just grow up to be insurgents anyway. Let them burn."

Gewehr Soldier Hekken: "You're not right, Kahn."

Kahn whipped aroud and aimed the flamethrower at Hekken.

Machinegunner Kahn: "You're next if you don't shut your mouth."

Little to their knowledge, insurgents in a nearby building had seen the entire incident. They were under orders not to attack without permission, but to them, this crossed the line.

A volley of RPGs from a nearby building struck the Guardpost, sending schrapnel and fire into the frigid air.

Kahn looked up and saw Hekken's face burnt nearly completely black.

Translated from German...

Machinegunner Kahn: "Bastards!"

As more RPGs and machinegun fire hit the Guardpost, Kahn dashed to one of the Fuchs 2 IFVs. He aimed the Kormoran rocket launcher at the building and sighted in.

Another Reichswehr Guard jumped into the other Fuchs 2 IFV.

He pressed the red button, and two rockets shot out from the IFV, striking the building. Two more missiles fired from the other IFV, sending more smoke and flames into the air. Numerous Panzerfaust-3 rockets were sent into the building, many striking the bottom floor from where the RPGs had been fired.

There was silence. Unnerving silence. The moaning sounds of the twenty-four story building, only thirty-five yards away, beginning to collapse were then heard.

Kahn pulled himself out of the Fuchs 2 IFV.

Translated from German...

Machinegunner Kahn: "Everyone prepare yourself! That building's gonna fall!!"

He ducked back into the armoured vehicle and closed the hatch. The rest of the soldiers hunkered down underneath the concrete and steel-reinforced bunkers at the Guardpost.

The building collapsed...

- N.G.

To: General Grippen, North Germanian Command, KYrall
From: Director of Operations, Macisikani Red Cross, Kyrall.
Subject: RE: wounded soldier

With all due respect to the Hirgizstani and their facilities, the issue is very time-sensitive; any delay in treatment will have lasting repercussions. Furthermore we do not believe that a military medical ship in the harbour of a city in the middle of a war zone is the best place to treat this man, even to simply stabilise his condition; the procedures required are extremely delicate, and require a stable environment.

In addition, our preliminary analysis was in error; this man’s condition is worse than we first believed. He requires a complete ocular reconstruction of both eyes, a procedure only reliably available in two locations we are aware of; Attica City in Rotovia, (that country is on the verge of civil war), and Arn-Maciska.

If Hirgizstan can have this man out of Kyrall within the next three hours and in Arn-Maciska within the next twelve, then we will be more than happy for him to be transported by them; one doctor and two nurses will be required to monitor his condition and adjust the treatments accordingly. I have contacted Director-General deSoto, and he has made the appropriate arrangements with the External Affairs Ministry.

General Grippen, I cannot emphasise this enough; this man must be sent to Arn-Maciska without delay, as the longer we wait the more traumatic and difficult the procedures will be.

No thanks are necessary; we choose to come here.

Thank you for your time,
Director of Operations, Macisikani Red Cross, Kyrall.

===========================

From: Director of Operations, MCR, Kyrall
To: All stations
Subject: Structural integrity

Another building has collapsed in the North Germanian zone of the city.

All feild operations in the immediate area, and you know who you are, are ordered to prepare for emergency evacuations due to concerns over structural integrity of the under.

All other stations are ordered to continue as is, with preparations to be made for additional casualties.

ACK.

-DoO Kyrall.

MESSAGE

TO: General Grippen;Director of Operations, Macisikani Red Cross, Kyrall
FROM: General Steel, CHMC
ABOUT: Medical situation.

We take on board what the Red Cross is saying and i have decided to go along with it. We will send a Medical Helicopter for this man and the medical team from the Red Cross. They will be airlifted out into the sea for a 15-30Minute flight that will take the Heli out to a waiting Aircraft Carrier (From a Fleet not participating in the War in Neo Tyr, its on operations nearby), where the team will transfer to a C-2, which will take them on a non-stop flight to Macisikan.

-COH-

Message to: Director of Operations, Macisikani Red Cross, Kyrall; Hirgizstan
From: General Grippen; Kyrall
Subject: RE: Wounded soldier

"We appreciate the assistance and cooperation coming from both nations. Any and all procedures necessary for the survival of this man are being requested.

If he is conscious, please inform him that when he recovers, he will be awarded the Knight's Cross for bravery on the battlefield. In addition, he will receive the Foreign Front Wound Medal.

This should boost his courage and morale in his trying and difficult situation.

We cannot thank you enough.

- General Grippen; Kyrall"

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

Guardpost #119; District 11, Kyrall...

The dust had began to settle, and out of it came a huge display of rubble and fire. Smoke and haze still filled the air, but the Guardpost remained intact...

Translated from German...

Machinegunner Kahn: "Well...we got them that time! I doubt anything will be coming out of that building except some stench of rotting flesh."

The men laughed in relief, but whatever relief they had disappeared when they heard the dull groaning beneath them. It was the structure of the 'Under' bending and giving its all to hold up the top level of the city.

A crowd of Tyrinians had gathered after the building collapsed and were listening and watching anxiously. The usually aggressive and kill-eager Kahn was silent and still as a rock. It seemed that everyone had the exact same thing on their minds: "Will it hold?" No.

A crack in the road began to form where the building had once stood. It grew larger and larger, almost as if it was an earthquake. The rubble of the fallen building began to sink into the ground, and cries from underneath could be heard.

Translated from German...

Machinegunner Kahn: "Let's get the Hell out of here!"

The Gewehr Korps picked up what they could and ran full speed away from the collapsing portion of road. Kahn looked back to see several square yards of concrete fall into the Earth, and bring with it several Tyrinians...

- N.G.

OOC: Sorry about the delay of my post…

IC: It was the beginning of the end for Kyrall. Even if only a small chunk fell, it meant that its support pillar was spent. The central support column wouldn’t be able to stand any more. Aproxmently 60% of Kyrall was above the undercity, and soon it would all be gone. Millions would be dead, no doubt there. If the outlanders were smart, they would most likely pull their forces from Kyrall, or they would all die…

To add to the Under situation, Midlonia had caused a widespread panic, and caused several hundred citizens to run for their lives in all directions. And in an underground city on the brink of collapse, a civil panic was not the best remedy. The people made a beeline for the elevator, which would lead them stright through the patrol…

---

Ross Kajar turned to Baldwin. “I see. Well, having one of you who doesn’t want to kill us all is a good-“

His assistant interrupted Kajar. “Major Kajar, I have Captain Hilton from the Under calling. He says it’s a priority one message.”

Kajar took the phone from Young’s hands. “Ross Kajar here, what is it?” There was a rather long pause and Kajar’s face turned from a clam demeanor to utter disbelief at the end of it. “[I]What!?[I] Are you sure!? Alright, Hilton, start an evacuation of the top floors. Get an officer to stop those damn outlanders too. God damn…” He muttered, handing the phone to Young. He turned to address Baldwin. “Some outlanders… they… they destroyed an apartment building which had just pushed the central support pillar over the edge. The city is going to collapse. We need to get out of here soon. I’m not positive of the time we have.” He said coldly.

---

Near the causeway to the airport, one of the Rose agents shook his head. “No. That plan is far too risky. We need something more solid.”

Vassal bit his lip in though. “Hmm… both the Princess and I own a plane. Do you think you could get through with your clearance with me? I mean, you have some rank, don’t you?”

The other agent walked over. “Well you had better make up your mind quickly, as Kyrall is going to collapse soon, the outlanders have effectively damaged the undercity to the breaking point. We haven’t much time. I’d estimate about two hours before the chain reaction starts.” He said with a cool air of nonchalance.

Marimeta paled. “No… No… T-this has to be a joke!” She said, losing control of her voice, “Tell me this is some sort of joke!” She demanded to the agent, starting to become hysterical.

---

Dart followed his escorts through Cyro and the Benja House calmly. Last thing he wanted was to do was piss off the secret service of an enemy on their own turf. So he followed, obeyed and order, and sat calmly when he reached his destination and sat, reflecting on his family and wondering how they were doing.

---

Underground, a rather stressed Raash DuVaul turned to meet the Vrakian. “Ah, yes, my chief engineer will fill you in.” He said and turned to other business.

As he said that, a man in a military uniform approached the outlander. “My name is Theodoric Mott, military engineer and the man who essentially designed this complex. There are several issues to talk of-“ He broke off when an assistant came and whispered something in his ear. Mott sighed. “Well it seems to matter anymore because your allies had triggered the destruction of the city. The undercity will collapse in about two hours, and theres nothing anyone can do.”

His words had made everyone in the area stop what they were doing for a moment, then go back to work at post-haste. DuVaul, also getting a message from an assistant, queued a siren to evacuate, while the police went out to try to keep the citizens from panicking. Mott looked at the Vrakian. “I’d suggest you leave, unless you want to feel what being buried alive under steel and earth feels like.” He said with an air of anger.

‘Keep grabbing and tagging them! Keep doing it! Make sure none get through and escape!’ These orders were barked out by Major Renold.
The Civil protection officers were welcoming the rapid stream of prisoners; these too were clipped with a small electronic bracelet, and sent packing up the lift. A single protection soldier with a blue mask was observing something through, what appeared to be a camera. He then clicked his internal comms.
‘Sir, we have a big problem.’
‘What kind?’ replied Renold, lazily; he was still trying to count the damn number of prisoners that they were taking in.
‘Well, according to this, we have around two hours till the city collapses.’
‘What?’ Yelled Renold’s down the comms, causing the Engineer to yelp and press his hands to his ears.


Above, the scene was chaos.
Civil protection were fleeing from the streets, Type 10’s were now being brought directly into the lift area, lifting Tyrinnians away in their hundreds, many more were piled into the trucks, each revving away quickly, yet, just as steady a stream headed back. The Midlonians may be taking citizens away to work far from their homes, but they certainly not cruel enough to leave citizens to die, they’d make every attempt to lift out the citizens, before it was too late, the plan was to airlift out citizens when it reached the 10 minute mark, until then, taking them both out by lorry and air for now was the best plan of action.

CLOSED FREQUENCY
From: Director of Operations, MCR, Kyrall
To: General Steel, CHMC and General Grippen
Subject: re: wounded soldier (& RE: Medical situation)

Evacuation of the soldier and medical team can occur immediately.

The External Affairs Ministry has cleared all the operations required, and the hospital in Arn-Maciska is ready and waiting to receive the patient.

At present he is sedated in order to minimise trauma, but when he regains consciousness, we will pass on General Grippen's message.

The undercity, as you a probably aware, is beginning to give way; we are evacuating our stations and operations from Kyrall, and anticipate large civilian casualties.

Please hurry.

-DoO Kyrall.

================================

OPEN FREQUENCY: PRIORITY ONE
From: Director of Operations, MCR, Kyrall
To: All stations
Subject: EVACUATION ALERT

ALERT ALERT ALERT

Structural integrity of undercity compromised.

All stations to evacuate immediately.

All teams to pull out of Kyrall without delay.

ACK.

-DoO Kyrall.

======================

MCR HQ, Arn-Dettya

Lord deSoto flipped through the status reports.
Bad, bad, bad.
Kyrall's undercity was collapsing, and his estimations stated that when it went, the death toll would run into the millions.
de Soto leaned back in his chair, rubbed his tired eyes with one hand and tried to think of a way of expressing his feelings that didn't involve breaking anything.
"Bugger."
Yes, that about summed it up.

======================

Gauis Trisken Hospital, Kyrall

"Attention. Attention. This is a type A alert. The structural integrity of the undercity has been compromised. For safety reasons all personnel are to evacuate this facility immediately. Please remain calm. This is not a drill...

Doctors, wounded, nurses, volunteers alike froze at the calm voice coming over the PA.
Then chaos erupted.
Amublences who had just disgorged wounded were suddenly reloaded; other cars were packed full of bandaged bodies.
No, it wasn't chaos.
Surgeons moved quickly, bandaging up their patients, performing the last minute operations while they ran alongside gurneys down the halls.
There was co-ordination, a plan to the madness.
Volunteers grabbed as many people as they could; medical supplies were grabbed along with them.
The frantic activity had purpose; no motions were wasted, no one stood around screaming - everyone had a job to do, and they were doing it.
I repeat, the evacuation order has been given. All personnel are to proceed to the nearest exits...

Similiar scenes were repeated in every single hospital and operations centre in Kyrall.

On the roof of Gaius Trisken Hospital, a nurses and a doctor bent over a North Germanian soldier, checking his vital signs. A third nurse scanned the skies, watching for the Hirgizstani helicopter that was coming to collect them, while beneath the hospital's neat order dissolved into a boil of activity .

"Shit." Baldwin swore. She looked about uncertainly as if expecting the earth to swallow her at any moment.

She brought the radio up again, "Scratch that command, pull everyone back. This city is about to collapse. Radio the High Seas fleet, see if they can get anything out here within...."

She held the radio away from her face for a moment, "Mr Kajar, how long do you think we'll have? Maybe you'd like to speak to Base?"

she tossed him the radio, "You're speaking to Assistant Chief Constable James Albert by the way." she explained.

The radio crackled into life in Kajar's hands, "Hello, Alexia, are you still hearing me?"

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

On the other side of town, Dashwood frowned, "Yes, I can get you in, but not the Princess, and we can't afford for her to fall into the wrong hands."

"Wait...I think I have a plan."

And with that she was up and walking straight towards the Vrakians, "Hey! What the hell are you lot doing there? Havn't you heard, this place is going to be swallowed beneath the waves in just under two hours! Geez, Vrakian High Command sure don't seem to worry about their boys."

She paused for just a moment in the tirrade, she was very close to the guards now, "Well? What the hell are you waiting for, get to your boats!"

It was a spur of the moment plan, designed to panic the Vrakians who she'd guess either had, or were just about to get the news she'd just relayed onto them. In the panic, she was hoping to slip her party through.

His words had made everyone in the area stop what they were doing for a moment, then go back to work at post-haste. DuVaul, also getting a message from an assistant, queued a siren to evacuate, while the police went out to try to keep the citizens from panicking. Mott looked at the Vrakian. “I’d suggest you leave, unless you want to feel what being buried alive under steel and earth feels like.” He said with an air of anger.

The Under

“Okay,” replied the Vrakian engineer, “Guess we’d better go.” He made a motion to his aide who quickly sent a message to all the other engineering battalions and, most importantly, Fleet Admiral Killamo. Then with efficiency borne of the engineering battalion, they quickly left. In truth, this particular colonel was a bit more sympathetic to the Tyrinians since he rather liked building things instead of destroying them. But he couldn’t shake the notion that they brought this upon themselves. If only they had minded their own affairs…

The Destiny’s Fist - Admiral Killamo's flagship

“By the Great Clam,” swore Killamo as he got the latest dispatch. He banged his fist and then barked our orders.

“Send in all of our helicopters, transport or otherwise. Evacuate our forces and allied forces and if we can’t bring them all out, have them go to the edge of the island. They should be safe there. Send a team to the Aquarium or wherever the hell they are and bring them here. Have our amphibious craft get in as close as possible to move out our heavy equipment.”

A pause. Although the orders for this contingency didn’t specify it, he figured he might as well use some discretionary power.

“And, if possible, evacuate any and all Tyrinians as we are able.”

He quickly dispatched a heavily encoded message to High Command.

====

Soon, the sky was filled with dozens upon dozens of helicopters, all streaming to different destinations. Some were bound for the last known meeting place of the Tyrinian government and other top officials while more went towards key research facilities and began to evacuate key Vrakian and Tyrinian personnel, along with any other important information not already taken. Haste was paramount, and if any Tyrinians chose to die for their country then they were left behind.

Kyrall

The message was received and quickly filtered down to the chain of command. General Sansaeya was evacuated from his command post until the last possible moment, his chopper under heavy guard. Vrakian troops throughout the city immediately stopped searching for insurgents and began a rapid retreat to the nearest outer edges. Infantry would make their way towards their own mechanized transport and would shoot any bystanders that happened to get too close. Tanks and the like turned and headed out, mowing down anything that got in their path, but taking care not to fire their main gun unless absolutely necessary.

At sea, rescue boats from the fleet were deployed while the Kravoli patrol craft kept a close watch on any hostiles. Impromptu beaching areas were located for the amphibious craft and they waited anxiously for Vrakian personnel.


Kyrall International Airport

It was a spur of the moment plan, designed to panic the Vrakians who she'd guess either had, or were just about to get the news she'd just relayed onto them. In the panic, she was hoping to slip her party through.

The young soldier did not know what to make of this new development, but it clearly alarmed him and his comrades.

“The city…collapse?” he managed to blurt out. English wasn’t his first tongue and so he broke into Vrakian. A hush of whispers and then one got on the mic. He was obviously talking to a superior. Still, the proximity of Dashwood, whom they didn’t know, and her general demeanor made them nervous. Guns were lowered and aimed at the party while safetys were clicked off.

“Don’t move,” commanded one of the soldiers.

A Vodnik (ooc: Russian hummer) could be seen racing towards the group.

"Ok, Ok, we'll have the LCAC's and the GLCAC's (Giant Landing Craft Air Cushioned) on the beach in 15 minutes. The CH-53G's and CV-22's are taking off as i speak, the first group of Cobra's arrived 5 minutes ago. The wounded are being brought in now, as you ordered. Listen, make sure this doesn't turn into a giant gangfu*k." The Captain of the HNS Neptune, Captain Bill Armer spoke into the radio, as the Marine Commander, Lt. General Stevens (The Marine Fleet Co-ordinator) stood listening.

General Steel was sitting on his desk while outside Marines rushed to and fro. "Yes, we'll make sure we're covered. The Legionnaires are going out first as the Airport is all hussle and bussle, the Vrakians are evacuating aswell. They'll take the first lot of LCAC's, they have not heavy armour, just Hummvee's and a few LAV's. Its a good job their engineers got out of the Under quickly, could have been nasty, or so they tell me. Anyway, the plan is to evac the Armour and Vehicles on the LCAC's and GLCAC's, most of the AAAV's will go out empty, just equipment on them, their drivers have been briefed. Bring the ships as close to shore as possible in the next 15 minutes. A Marine Battalion will hold position with me until everyone else is at the coast and away from danger. Then we'll evac. If we don't run into any problems it shouldn't take any longer than 90 Minutes, we've practised before so keep it smooth out there."

The General finished up the call, grabbed his helmet and rifle and the radio, and walked out of the small room to join the hussle and bussle outside. The atmosphere was tense but organised, early reports said they had two hours before a total collapse.

The General stepped outside to see the last of the M1A3's dissappearing out of sight, the tire and tank tracks had turned the road black, it was a testament to the crews for moving so fast, he hoped the rather large column wouldn't collapse the road, but then again the coast wasn't too far away. He also hoped there wouldn't be any ambushes, the Armour plates had been removed from the HMMWV's so they'd move faster and be less of a burden on the LCAC's.

In the Car Park the Cobra Helicopters were winding up, as well as the OH-58D's to move out and make way for the CV-22's and the CH-53G's. The AAAV's and their crews were loading up weaponry, supplies and equipment from the Stadium, while every now and then a formation of four or eight AAAV's roared off after the tanks.

There were the guts of the 2 Marine Regiments forming up inside and outside the stadium, ready to board the incoming aircraft. The General strolled out to the roadblock where a Battalion sized element of Marines and some other soldiers were stationed. The Marines were easy to spot but among them stood the the two Teams from the 2nd Special Forces Artillery. The General walked over to their Commander, a Captain and asked, "Captain, what in the hell are you doin? You and your boys should have left with the Legionnaires, what are you still doin here?"
"Sir, with respect, we'll leave when you leave."
"...Ok, Captain, its your call."

The General walked between squads, talking to soldiers, making sure they were ok, while he listened to the chatter on the radio, so far so good.
The Coast was the objective, it wouldn't fall into the Under, but getting there was still a big question mark. With any luck, 90 minutes from now he'd be on an evac himself.

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

MESSAGE

TO: General Grippen; Vrakian High Command
FROM: General Steel, CHMC
SUBJECT: Evacuation

Sirs, this is probably my last message to you both, but as you know i've been ordered to evacuate all Hirgizstanian Forces from Kyrall.
Early reports indicate a complete structural collapse 2 hours from now, we hope to be gone in just over 90 Minutes. If any of your forces need evac then send them to the Stadium and we will do our best.
Best of luck to you both.

General Steel, CHMC

-COH-

Trucks, trucks, trucks, always the bloody trucks.
yet another set of trucks roared into the pier area, a temporary one, set up by the Midlonians, and at this rate likely to be the only pier left when the city fell.
'Out! Out! Out!' Came the yell, a disembodied voice somewhere on the pier shouted.

The Tyrinnians were pushed onto boats, a couple of the drones danced around the heavily laden ships, which as time went on, sat dangerously low in the water before it was shipped away.
Men, Tanks, trucks, some were pushed into the sea, the estimate was around a day for the army to withdraw with their equipment, so, much of the equipment lay abandoned, the crew members just grabbing their rifles and running to their boats, thus this freed up many more to withdraw Tyrinnans.

A couple of trucks had drawn up next to one of the museums, the treasure's inside were taken and piled into the trucks, wether this was to save them, or go into the personal collection of a ranking officer it was unsure, but their survival would be a boost to morale all the same.

Chaos, absolute chaos.
With yet more people being snatched from the under, and more from the surface, it was soon becoming apparent that there simply were not enough trucks and transports to save them all, let alone feed them.
Several of the large cargo ships steamed away from the island, headed for what they deemed would be the Tyrinnians new "home".

OOC: Midlonia, I'm saying one of the civilians you snatched was a MANHUNTER agent, so make sure you make a post when the slave ships land.

IC: It had been absolute chaos in Kyrall. Neo Tyr decided to bring in the food distrobution ships to the harbor to help refugees, but that only clogged the bay, making everything move at a snails pace. Rose agents casualy opened fire on any would-be looters, Klatchian or Tyrininan, and made their way systematicially from the center of the city out. The police were mobilized in droves to get people to the coast of the island. Tyrinians were worried. There was mass panic in the streets. Insurgents pretty much went 'to hell with their orders' and shot at will at all Klatichans. If they were going to die, they'd go in a blaze of glory.

The occupation was not going well. Not well at all.

---

It was a pivital moment at the causeway. The soldiers had their guns pointed to Dashwood while the hummer sped over to their point. Vassal had to act. He strode over, slowly set his sidearm on the ground, and put his hands where the soldiers could see them. "I am Lance Vassal, important man of the Tyrinian government. She is Commisar Dashwood of Dyelli Beyabi. My plane is in the airport, the city is going to explode, and we need to escape. If you don't let me through, there will be revolts on other islands." He said as calmly and clearly as possible, making hand gestures when needed but kept his distance. Meanwhile, Marimeta was becoming hysterical, and the Rose agents kept her noise to a minimum.

---

Elsewhere, Kajar fumbled with the radio for a moment but then put it to his head. "I am Ross Kajar, police cheif of Kyrall. The undercity has taken damage and will collapse soon. You need to get your men out of the city as fast as you possibly can. There is not much time." He said

Kyrall...

The Gewehr Soldiers from Guardpost #119 were running full-speed down the street and shooting every Tyrinian they saw. They were not risking being held up in another insurgent attack. Even if they were attacked by rebels, they would fire back and keep running.

Orders from General Grippen were that every man was to report to the Germanian Command Harbor, load up and regroup in the dozens of NGB-12 Transport Ships.

Saving the lives of the men was the utmost priority; if vehicles could not make it to the transports in time, they would be left behind.

The skies were abuzz with Germanian fighters and helicopters taking off from an established airport, back to the carriers waiting outside of Kyrall.

To protect the soldiers and equipment on the ground, Germanian attack helicopters were gunning down any suspected insurgents. Often times, they weren't even insurgents.

While dodging small-arms fire and RPGs, the helicopters were annihilating hundreds of Neo's from the sky. As thousands of Germanian soldiers rushed to the beachead in APCs, tanks, IFVs, and even on foot, they cleared any "obstacles" in their way: cars, citizens, insurgents, houses, etc.

From a nation famed for their organisation and control, they appeared chaotic.

Hundreds of Reichswehr Soldiers, Schultzpolizei, Officers, and ESPK Ops had already been evacuated to transport ships, aircraft carriers, and hospital ships.

High Command in Kyrall was only hoping that they could get their troops out in time, and that there were enough naval vessels to hold all 14,317 soldiers.

Given that the breaking point in Kyrall was a large distance from where most of the Soldiers were stationed, Command was confident most soldiers would survive.

Whether or not the citizens of Kyrall would survive or not could not be determined, but strategists were coming up with plans to deal with the city after it collapsed -- whether or not to leave it as it is and move to Easterling, or attempt to reorganise and rebuild the city.

In any case, Germania was pulling out and not looking back, for the time being...

- N.G.

"Whoa, whoa." the radio spoke back to Kajar, "Calm down, we can be off in a matter of minutes, apart from the Commisaar all our men and women are still within the base perimeter. We need a timescale for the collapse though. We may be able to bring elements of the High Seas Fleet to help evacuate civilians."

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

Dashwood darted a sideways glance at Vassal, "That was brave." she hissed, "You shouldn't have identified yourself though, they might decide to drag you off somewhere, or worse still... shoot you. For God's sake man I'm expendable, you're not."

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

Cyro

At long last, Dart was shown into one of the small private offices. The furniture was simple and in keeping with the general theme of the bunker, steel and glass. A man was seated behind a desk, wearing the usual grey Cheka uniform. He had a long face with slightly haggard features and a black goatee, "Grant Dart, I assume?"

He motioned to a chair, "I was hoping we'd have someone for you to talk to by now, but unfortunately things seem to have been held up a little. Please let me introduce myself. I am Felix Dzerzhinsky, the Director of this humble organisation, and also Secretary to the High Chancellor."

By now the Vodnik pulled up to the gathering and a gruff looking fellow with lieutenant’s insignia spilled out. He motioned the soldier manning the vehicle mounted heavy machine gun to keep it aimed at the new arrivals.

The most senior soldier from the initial group pointed with his gun to Dashwood and Vassal.

-They identified themselves as Commisar Dashwood and Lance Vassal, an important Tyrinian official.
-Did they? sneered the Lieutenant. Commisar? Probably Checka he thought. He swore and stepped forward withdrewing his pistol and aiming it at Dashwood. The rest of the soldiers had their guns trained at everyone that was not a Vrakian. Clearly, one wrong move and a fire fight would break out. The Lieutenant barked.

“You all had better show me some form of ID, nice and easy. Nobody is going anywhere."

He turned to the comm. soldier.

-Radio in what we have and bring in more backup.

====

TO: General Steel, CHMC
FROM: Fleet Admiral Killam[
SUBJECT: Evacuation

Acknowledged. Our transport helicopters and amphibious ships are moving in to evacuated our and that of any nearby allied forces. We will also be taking on any Tyrinians that happen to get lucky, although they are a secondary priority. We shall inform any forces near your location of your generous offer.

====

Kyrall

Leaving the city core and getting to the outside was tough going, and it was not certain if all the Vrakian forces would make it. Still, most should be somewhat safe, and a few already reached an LZ near a beach where a large amphibious carrier was readying itself to receive troops and equipment.

Three transport helicopters landed on the roof of the aquarium. Four soldiers quickly posted guard and a team hurried down the nearest access point. Overhead, a combat “Blackshark” patrolled nearby – wary for any insurgent activity.

Most of the M1A3's and ST-21's, along with numbers of LAV-25's had reached the coast quite quickly. Their orders had come through very quickly. However, a squad of 5 M1A3's, 2 ST-21's and 2 LAV-300 AA (With 50cal AA Chain Guns) were protecting the harbour road that led to the coastal loading area the Hirgizstanian Marines were using.

Orderly was the byword. Lt. General Stevens was waiting with the soldiers, having been flown in to shore. LCAC's and GLCAC's were loading up on a small beach and others were loading from the actual dock. Helicopters were flying overheard, Cobra's flying out to sea, while larger CV-22's and CH-53G's flew inland. Some were already on their way back with Marines. Thousands of Soldiers were boarding helicopters for the flight back and the 2nd Regiment had chosen their plan B, which was to ditch their supplies and ride back in their AAAV's to allow the 1st Regiment to get out by air.

The beachead and dock had been calm at first, some dockworkers had been helping but once they found out what was going on they fled. A group of Neo Tyrinnians had tried to run aboard an LCAC before a LAV-25 cut them to pieces. Reports were coming in of chaos at other evac sites and the tension was mounting as the remaining Armour and vehicles rode out through the city. Cobra's were now flying overhead and strafing the ground to make sure nobody got any funny ideas. Two HMMWV's had already been lost to RPG fire, and one CV-22 had had to turn back due to small arms fire cutting a rotor fuel supply cable.

The 2nd Regiment were halfway to the coast and the 1st Regiment were boarding the first wave of Aircraft when the roadblock, being manned by General Steel and a motley crue of Marines and SF soldoers came under fire from a rabid band of Tyrinnians weilding and firing all manner of weapons. The 50Cal emplacements were mowing them down but there was a suicidal anger to these people, they knew it was the end. General Steel would hold as long as he could so that any freindlies in the area could get out. But there wasn't much time left. A CH-53G had landed inside the stadium and was idling, it was their ticket out, if the deadline came they'd run for the open cargo doors.

(OOC: How much time, ideally, should be left?)

-COH-

"Ok." Dashwood was doing admirably well at looking calm and collected, "Well my first proof of identity is the fact I'm wearing uniform."

She put her right hand on her cap, fumbling in her jacket pocket with her left. A couple of moments later she pulled out a small leather wallet, it opened up to reveal a police badge and identity card. She held it up for the Lieutenant, "That's my photo, that's my name, that's my date of Birth, and that bit on the bottom says I'm a Political Officer 3rd Class... if you want further proof, there's a Dyelli Beybian plane on the other side of this guard post. The crew on there will be able to identify me, as well as Lord Vassal."

Closer inspection would reveal that the identity card said everything she claimed it did. She was only 20, which was pretty young for a mid-ranking Cheka Officer, "I don't want any trouble, I just want to get on my plane and get to Easterling before this place collapses around us."

OOC: What now?

OOC: If Hirgizstan could pick up your soldier and my medical team, I'll be happy to have the hospital collapse into the ground just after they take off...

Lynton Harbour, Midlonia

The port burst into life as the first ship arrived, men and women had set out tables with large pots of soup on, pouring the hot liquid into cheap bowls and handing them to the disembarking Tyrinnians, one large train sat steaming away, the smoke drifting lazily into the air, the locomotives were large, long and blue, their oddly shaped tenders giving away their power source of pebble fission.

The new citizens were packed into the suburban coaches and after a while the train set off, slowly at first, then up to a steady speed, thanks to the weight of the coaches and the people aboard, progress was slow.


Milton Keynes, Neo Tyrinnian settlement

Milton Keynes (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v160/Midlonia/Maps/Midlonia.png) was located around an hour’s train ride from the port of Lynton, when the train finally arrives, the people are ordered off onto the large station platform, they are then sent through the main building, and out under a stone archway “work makes you free” adorns it, the Tyrinnians are then directed to separate into male and female, then ordered to strip and go into a large shower block, where they are allowed to wash, after their shower they are allowed to dry themselves, and are given sets of blue overalls, or a cream top and brownish trousers, all valuables are kept on the citizen, except watches.

The Tyrinnians who first arrive are directed to the houses near to the large station, it works out at roughly one family to a flat, and two “flats” per house, in each flat are three modestly decorated rooms, one bedroom, one kitchen/living room and one bathroom. The flats all have the required furniture, and a television with access to all Midlonian TV channels, however the TV clock is not shown. A large book of “food tickets” sits on the table, these allow citizens to get basic food items, or complete “takeaway” style meals.

Families of four or more are ordered to wait in side room to the tram depot, which ships citizens further afield in the town, these people are placed on a register, and sent to larger accommodation on the outskirts of the town, which comprises of a house, with enough rooms to accommodate the family according to their size, and a food ticket book also according to the size of the family, again each house and flat is moderately decorated, complete with all basic furniture needed.

A request for furniture, or a new food ticket book, can be made by pressing the red button on the TV set and viewing your “work credit” points, and what is made available to you.
A food book costs 100 work points, while a luxury food book costs 1000, furniture ranges from 1000 work points to 1 million.

Transport is provided by trams, while for 2 million work points will get you your own transportation, typically one of the cars made in the auto factories within the city.

New home, new work, new life.

The CH-53G swooped in low over the rooftops, making a heading for the Macisikan Red Cross hospital, the flight wasn't due for another hour...but things had changed dramatically and it seemed that the hospital would be one of the first buildings to collapse, its structure just wasn't strong enough.

The Helipad on the roof of the Hospital wouldn't support the weight of the huge Sea Stallion, so the car park had been cleared and marked. The pilot banked hard as he saw the Hospital, pulling the nose of the giant helicopter up into the air to slow his speed, then nosing forward slightly while decreasing altitude steadily. An Ambulance sat close to the LZ, with a Green and white clad medical team.

With a bump and a hiss the heli sat down, its rotors slowing to an idle, but not shutting off. A stretcher was brought from the ambulance by two Red Cross nurses. Then came stands with drips and monitors. Two of the helicopter Crew Chief's ran out to meet the team and helped carry some of the equipment. The pilot watched as the stretcher and medical team dissappeared out of sight, toward the rear of the aircraft.

"Ok, we're all inside, we've got the patient, and 7 Red Cross personnel, hatch is closed...we're ready."

The pilot revved up the rotors and the helicopter lifted off, turning quickly and banking forward to pick up ground speed, before increasing altitude and heading toward the ships on the coast, they were safe, the North Germanian would make it.

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

General Steel had just been informed that 2 AAAV's had taken RPG hits along the coastal roads but they were still going, but the amount of fire was increasing. The Road Block he was at was the scene of absolute carnage. Cars had been rammed at the roadblock, Molotov cocktails had set buildings on fire and insurgents were taking pot-shots continuously. So far only 2 Marines had been injured, both burned by a Molotov, but not seriously. In a matter of minutes the last of the 1st Regiment would be gone, the final flight of helicopters was 2 minutes out, ready to airlift the last 200 Marines to safety.

If no one else called for an evac in the next 5 or 10 minutes the General would order the evac of his own motley crew of defenders.

-COH-

The screen flicked to another image. Sattelite recon. Dyelli Beybians were never particularly trusting people, and the Cheka were the least trusting of the lot, "What the hell are the Midlonians doing?"

Assistant Chief Constable Tania Fradkov peered at the pictures and shook her head, "It makes no sense."

"But what do you think it looks like?" she was seated with Felix Dzerzhinsky, the Cheif constable of the Cheka.

"It looks like they're moving people from Neo Tyr to Midlonia." she replied.

"Now we take into account this from Ilek Vaad." he held up the comunique. It had been sent to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and immediately forwarded to the Cheka, "And what picture are we begining to construct on our dear fellow State."

The letter was fairly damning, Fradkov nodded, "I think I see your point Sir, but we'll need to gather intelligence from this Midlonian possition before we plan on any action."

"Good. I have plenty of other things on my plate, so Tania, I'll leave that over to you, but I'm recommending we do things the JDF way."

the junior Commisaar smiled as she rose from her seat opposite the head of the organisation, "An excellent plan Sir, I'll get right onto it."

OOC: Oh, I don't know... let's say about an hour left(But not for Dashwood/Vassal and Kajar/Baldwin)

IC: An hour had passed. Odd really, it was rather peaceful, save the moan of the steel occasionaly from below the ground. However, thousands of citizens were evacuating, while many, many more were not going to leave the island alive…

Midlonia had made a little mistake. They had captured three important people among the masses. They took Kana Tulupo, very popular Hakiri singer who was well loved by the people. They also had Richard Hemingway, Lawman of Great House Seabrook. As long as he was stuck in Midlonia, House Seabrook was honor-bound to never back the occupation, and that would not help any outland faction. Finally they had Malik al-Shada’id. Although an immigrant, he was a member of MANHUNTER. If they would not realize him, MANHUNTER would officially declare the Klatch an enemy, and beginning to kill officers. Also, it meant they would not allow the Klatch to purchase their services. All three of these people contacted their friends off Kyrall beforehand, so it was already known they were alive and with the Klatch.

---

Grant Dart took a seat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said politely, if not amicably, “I am Grant Dart, once the captain of the Mariana autonomous corps.” He said, allowing the man sitting across from him continue the conversation.

---

Lance Vassal put his hand in his breast pocket and took out a wallet and handed the lieutenant his military ID. It gave his name, age, rank, sex, picture- and it was authentic so everything matched up. But it was still intense.

Yet tense moment at the causeway was relived a little from an unlikely source. While the Vrakians stood with their guns pointing, one of the Rose agents, his glasses gone, addressed the group. “Please, please,” He said in an informal way in an Irish accent which was truly commendable. “This dosen’t require violence. I’m Lorna Trescothic, Assistant Political Officer, I’m here In Kyrall undercover with Andrew over there,” he said pointing behind him.

“I’m here to ease the insurgency, and we found ‘Lord’ Vassal here.” he said in a mocking way. “And it seems he has a man in the insurgency. We’re bringing him to Easterling to be interrogated. However, we don’t have much time before the city collapses. He’s also refused to go without his servant girl over there,” He said pointing to Marimeta, “We’ve checked them and their not armed, but we need them out of there ASAP. So, if you don’t mind, we need to take a plane.” He finished. And he did a rather good job at it.

---

Elsewhere in Kyrall, Kajar looked at his assistant, “Young!” he said in a hoarse whisper, “Bring the squad car over. Clear out the back for the Commisar as well.” He finished. He then turned his attention the radio.

“We don’t have a solid timetable, but there is an estimated two hours before a full structural collapse. I’d advise a full evacuation of your forces immediately.” He said to the manon the other side.

---

The following are exerts from “Kajar’s Report”, a document compiled by Ross Kajar that was to be delivered to Commander Sybil, but ended in the hands of generals of the Klatichan forces…

… While the insurgency in Kyrall is a threat, we policemen could easily bring it under control. It should be quelled is a more peaceful manner, as violence against the people tends to push up insurgency recruitment rates…

… I speculate the insurgency is small, most likely around 700 hundred men in Kyrall, and 300 elsewhere. Their success through small numbers is most likely due to strong leadership…

… One must take care to minimize civilian causalities. When their countrymen die, we Tyrinians tend to become angry. I speculate that if there are accidental civilian casualties within the hundreds it would give a huge imputes to the insurgents and could make this occupation longer than it has to be…

… If both sides are respectful and remember they are fighting human beings this occupation can be quick and essentially painless, and that is the outcome I ardently hope for.

Lance Vassal put his hand in his breast pocket and took out a wallet and handed the lieutenant his military ID. It gave his name, age, rank, sex, picture- and it was authentic so everything matched up. But it was still intense.

Yet tense moment at the causeway was relived a little from an unlikely source. While the Vrakians stood with their guns pointing, one of the Rose agents, his glasses gone, addressed the group. “Please, please,” He said in an informal way in an Irish accent which was truly commendable. “This dosen’t require violence. I’m Lorna Trescothic, Assistant Political Officer, I’m here In Kyrall undercover with Andrew over there,” he said pointing behind him.

“I’m here to ease the insurgency, and we found ‘Lord’ Vassal here.” he said in a mocking way. “And it seems he has a man in the insurgency. We’re bringing him to Easterling to be interrogated. However, we don’t have much time before the city collapses. He’s also refused to go without his servant girl over there,” He said pointing to Marimeta, “We’ve checked them and their not armed, but we need them out of there ASAP. So, if you don’t mind, we need to take a plane.” He finished. And he did a rather good job at it.


The Lieutenant responded.

"If there is any plane to be taken, sir, it will be done our way. Hold on please."

He then pulled out his own mic and earpiece while keeping his gun aimed at Dashwood. One wonders why he didn't do this earlier but perhaps he was a bit preoccupied with the Cheka agent.

He then addressed the group.

"Commisar Dashwood, you may leave but we can provide transportation to your fleet if you wish. We are taking the Neo Tyrinians to meet with our Fleet Admiral."

The steady whump whump whump of a helicopter could be heard.

It was time to improvise. Vassal took a step back. "N-no, I won't!" He said with fear in is voice. It was flase, but Vassal could fake it. Not only was he a little scared, he had preformed in a few plays in his school days.

'Lorna Trescothic' sighed. "I was afraid this would happen. This Vassal's a right coward, and refuses to leave Commisar Dashwood's side. He think's you'll be killing him. Now we don't have much time before the city collapses. We need to get Vassal to Easterling so we can get the information about the insurgency from him, and the longer we wait around here the sooner the city will colapse. He's not going to leave the Commisar, so we need to leave now." He concluded.

With a groan, Gauis Trisken hospital, long abandoned, shuddered, then slowly, gracefully, began to tilt.
Inside the empty building, the open crates, marked with the MCR seal, began to slide across the floor; abandoned gurneys slid and rattled their way across darkened theatres.
Then it stopped.
There was a moment of breathless silence.
The ground was holding for now, but from beneath the earth came the sounds of metal under incredible stress.

It would not be long now, and no matter how fast the Klatchians and locals moved, thousands, at least, would be doomed to fall as the undercity collapsed in on itself.

Dashwood folded her arms belligerently, "That is not going to happen. Lord Vassal is a prisoner of the Dyelli Beybian State. If you don't believe me head over to the Dyelli Beybian plane and ask them, I can't exactly stop you, but unless you want your name bandied around in the most derogatory manner by the Keys in Port Olympus, I really suggest you let me get on with my job. I don't see why you feel fit to interfere with the business of a superior officer."

Her voice rose in outrage, "Is this some form of racism against your Southern neighbours? or perhaps sexism, I don't see many women in the Vrakian military."

She almost shuddered when the Rose again called himself Lorna. Lorna was well... a girl's name. Hopefully the Vrakians weren' familiar with popular Dyelli Beybian names...

Already she was formulating a plan. They'd need to track the Neo Tyrans, then launch a deniable rescue mission, probably the Tercionem or AOS.

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

Elsewhere in Kyrall, the radio crackled back into life. "Message understood. I'm contacting the High Fleet...." there was a pause for a minute or two, "We can get the Lord Fisher and Adolf Eichmann in here in just under two hours, that's one Super Heavy Battleship and a Fleet Carrier, although if they hit bad seas they might be too late... I hope that we won't bump into any hostilities on the way as they will be sailing unescorted. Anyway, we should be moving. Best of luck to you. Over and out."

The radio went dead. Dyelli Beybian ships were built for speed. They relied on being able to chose their Battlegrounds, to avoid major enemy forces while hitting lightly defended convoys and small groups. Even so, most ships would never make it on time, only the very fastest.

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

Cyro

The head of the Cheka nodded, "Yes, I know who you are, he opened a drawer in his desk, extracting a sheet of paper, Commisaar Quentin describes you as surly, ill mannered and a probable threat to Dyelli Beybi's interests. Sergeant O'Keith described you as quiet and... it's that word again, surly."

Dzerzhinsky sighed, "Do you know why Dyelli Beybi is thinking of letting you loose to join the insurgency?"

He didn't wait for a reply, "Cigar?" he offered a box of deeply aromatic cigars across the table. Dyelli Beybi grew tobacco in fairly large quantities and was esteemed a good producer of cigars, although probably not quite in the same league as Cuba.

"You're here because Dyelli Beybi doesn't want to be left out in the cold when the Civil War happens. Whether you like it or not Neo Tyr is going to be assimilated into Klatch, although most likely as an administrated territory, not as an autonimous State... unless I have something to say about it."

He paused again, Dzerzhinsky had not taken a cigar, apparently those were just for guests, "We will do our best to make sure you get full Statehood and don't end up as some North Germanian colony, in return we hope that Neo Tyr would come out to bat for us in the Klatchian Parliament."

"This country." Dzerzhinsky waved a hand around in a gesture that incorporated all of Klatch, "Is run by a mad Walrus and a band of northern yokels, not thatthe Vrakians per say are a real problem. We didn't ask for an invasion of Neo Tyr, it more or less happened. It seemed the President was just waiting for a war. You probably don't realise this, but Vrakian bombers actually attacked allies of our Government during the conflict, even though they were supposed to be on the same side."

"A long time ago we held the Presidency of Klatch, then resigned it when the good Lady Palm became too ill to continue. We then held a place on the Privy council, which was stripped from us, unconstitutionally I might add. Since then all attempts to get a Dyelli Beybian into higher office within the Federation have been systematically blocked. This we hope to remedy, and bring back an enlightened Klatch which thrives on peace and trade. If the Government of Klatch were in better hands this war may never have happened, certainly there would have been none of the blatant violations of the Geneva Convention we have seen."

Dzerzhinsky gave a slightly worried frown, "Now as a measure of good faith I had sent an agent into Kyrall to extract your Princess, however they are late, which is unusual. Chlarissa Dashwood, the agent sent in, is one of our best and brightest."

The Alconians had been watching from their fleet out beyond the Barrier islands. From the small survey posts on the Barrier Islands as part of project No Drag.

From here they had watched:
The destruction, ineptitude, all of it
The Vrakians and Deyllians had run out all independent news bad
They had allowed the destruction of the Neo Tyrian cultural institutions very bad

A Deyllian was supposed to be running the show...but it was a complete disaster. Except...

The Deyllians were no longer acting as part of a Klatchian force.
They were acting independent

At the same time the world had changed. A JDF base in Neo Tyr was no longer as tactically advantagous as it had once might have been. The Var had secured New Shiron into the fold and the various harbors and bays. Obviously they were greatful...far more that the Neo Tyrians.

Now high above the ground the scene between the Vrakians and the Dyellians were being captured by a distant cyclops. The last straw, the Dyellians goals had just become obvious.

The policy of the United Duchies shifted dramatically in the final analysis.

To: All Forces Under JDF Command
From: Klatchian Marshall Veldere,
Item: Wanted Female

A foreign agent is believed to be in contact with Neo Tyrian insurgents. Please be advised that said subject and any individual and companions should be escorted to Fire Base Alpha Tau on the barrier islands for proper identification.

(Then quickly dashed off description was that of Dashwood)
Note: That we believe the individual is posing as a known member of the Klatchian Forces. Visual identification may not be sufficent. Test for high levels of radioactive isotopes in blood to identify

The woman stopped typing and looked at the visual image from the cyclops again. There is something wrong with that group...why can't I put my finger on it...

*********
To: Diplomatic Corps Vrak
From: His Grace, Alexander III
Subject: Neo Tyr

The President and I must immediatly discuss the obvious failings of policy in Neo Tyr and its potential implications.

******
To: Mackistan News Orginizations
From: The Outer Ministry of the United Duchies
Subject: Neo-Tyr

We would like to invite you to interview Landgravine Hubris, Outer Consul of the Klatchian Federation, on the eve of her wedding. Any subject of Klatchian Policy will be available.

Thunderbay Harbor
The four converted cargo ships began their journey south. Each had a collapssed antenna mast secured into their holds and several satalite dishes bolted to their repainted decks. Each had been repainted red with the letters BBC stenciled across their sides.

A radio operator stood close to General Steel, listening intently to reports on his earphones, trying desperately and in vain to drown out the drone of shouting and weapons fire all around him. He only thanked God that General Steel had ordered the men to retreat to the stadium field entrance, as the barriers were being destroyed by the ravenous citizens of Kyrall. The operator ducked down as rounds kicked up concrete nearby, he pushed the earphones close to hear an urgent report. "...out in 10 minutes. 2nd Regiment will be out in 15 minutes, they're on the coastal road headed toward the dock, tell them the way is clear, but be careful there may be hostiles in the area." The operator continued to scan the Command net, it seemed that things were going ok...

...until an 18 wheeler truck slammed straight through the road barricade near the stadium, wheeling to the left and then toppling over, its trailer and cab crashing onto its side and skidding for a few metres, sparks flying off the side. The crowd around the barricades began to pour in through the ragged hole, filled with sandbags, razor wire and broken concrete.

Insurgents were firing from inside the mass of people and they were coming closer...the 100 metres or so between the field entrance and the barricade was rapidly dissappearing. General Steel fired a magazine into the crowd and then ordered the shutters to be closed. They can down fast, sealing out the crowd. The General then signalled to the helicopter to start up, which it did.
The Special Forces Captain ran up to the General, "General, if we take off they'll probably RPG us, they're so close, even small arms fire will be dangerous at this distance."

"Yes Captain...it will, but i know that...two Cobra's are on their way..., carry on Captain."

The Captain smiled and ran off to rejoin his men on a tier of seats who began to lob grenades over the ballustrade, their muffled explosions could be heard by all. The crowd began to batter the field gate mercilessly, firing holes in periodically.

The low hum of the AH-1Z's could be heard before they signed in with the Radio Operator, who immediately ran to General Steel's side. The General grabbed the mic and began to talk, "Cobra's, we're in the stadium, they're outside..."

"Roger General, we see them, we're coming in from the side, there's about 300 hundred people there, get back from the stadium walls...beginning gun run in 15 seconds."

"Roger Flight Lead, as soon as your done get back to the ships."

The Cobra's began their run with their 30mm Chain Guns, strafing lines through the crowd. The crowd dispersed slightly before surging once more at the gate. The Cobra's returned firing FFAR's, punching holes in the crowd, sending bodies flying into the air. On the second FFAR run the crowd broke and ran for cover, each helicopter breaking and giving chase with their cannons.

The General hasitly loaded up into the CH-53G, which quickly rose out of the stadium, receiving some incoming fire, and then banked to fly low over the city toward the coast. They were out, he only hoped the rest of the Marines were as lucky...time was marching on.

-COH-

To: All Forces Under JDF Command
From: Klatchian Marshall Veldere,
Item: Wanted Female

A foreign agent is believed to be in contact with Neo Tyrian insurgents. Please be advised that said subject and any individual and companions should be escorted to Fire Base Alpha Tau on the barrier islands for proper identification.

(Then quickly dashed off description was that of Dashwood)
Note: That we believe the individual is posing as a known member of the Klatchian Forces. Visual identification may not be sufficent. Test for high levels of radioactive isotopes in blood to identify.

As the snatching continued, the Under groaned and screamed in protest, and now the Midlonians were venturing further into The Under, they had been assigned to the "fun" duty of finding this so called "agent" and capture her, and whoever she might be with at the time, one in the group carried a geiger counter, which aside from the occassional blipping of normal background radiation, had remained quiet, they had managed to get to the Vrakian/DB sector and were still searching steadily, Midlonia was just as paranoid as the next Klatchian nation, perhaps moreso, considering the size and power of Civil Protection and the military...

Schwarz Class Bomber Carrier; waters outside of Kyrall...

Three GFB-1 bombers, ultra-stealth air-to-surface missile bombers recently built by the Germanian Military Development Department, and twelve GB-58S heavy bombers, were a few seconds away from launching off the carrier and bombing the streets of Kyrall.

Intelligence reports indicated that a massive wave of over 3,200 armed militia were headed towards the Hirgizstani stadium in Kyrall.

Translated from German...

"This is GFB-1 Alpha, ready for take off."

"Cleared for take off, Alpha."

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

Message to: Hirgizstani Stadium; Kyrall
Message from: NG Bomber Carrier; Kyrall waters
Subject: Bombing

"Be advised -- over 3,200 armed militiamen headed towards your position in the stadium. We are launching an airstrike."

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

The bombers were flying at 28,000 feet over Kyrall, when the zoom targetting systems on the GFB-1 missile bombers located their target - the insurgents headed towards the Hirgizstanis.

"GFB-1 Alpha, deploying payload now."

Twenty-four upgraded Kormoran missiles rocketed from the GFB-1 towards the street where the insurgents were. They looked to be one long line of ants.

The other two GFB-1s unloaded their payloads right behind the leader of the airstrike team.

The GB-58S bombers each unloaded their thirty air-burst cluster munition bombs, each bomblet weighing in at twenty pounds, and each bomb containing a total of five-hundred bomblets.

The tail bomber watched as the missiles and the bombs struck the street. Flashes of the bomblets hitting the militia, and the larger flashes of the missiles hitting them could be seen.

Translated from German...

"This is GFB-1 Alpha to Schwarz Carrier: target eliminated."

3,200 Tyrinians - hostile or not wasn't the point - dead in under a minute. Even the ruthless Germanian soldiers were beginning to question whether or not it was worth it. High command was contemplating pulling out all forces...

- N.G.

(OOC: I hope you havn't figured out all of Dyelli Beybi's plan, because the troops aren't actually acting suspiciously, only one individual, and well, you don't have access to Felix Dzerzhinsky's office ;) )

At the airport, there was some concern as to the whereabouts of the missing Commisaar. The plane had landed with several AOS officers acting as bodyguards onboard. The pilot was getting edgey about sitting on a runway that might sink into the earth at any moment, so two of the officers were dispatched to locate and return the missing Commisaar, as well as Vassal if he wanted to come.

They had expected to end up in street fighting in the city, and probably not actually find their mark, it was they figured, like searching for a needle in a haystack, however they were pleasantly surprised to find BOTH of their marks being ostensibly held up by the Vrakian gate guard.

"Well that saves a bit of walking." one quipped to the other.

They were both Constables by ranked, and decked out in the full dark green combat uniform with armoured vests and helmets. Usually they also wore a gasmask or goggles and a balaclava, but neither had bothered in this instance, "Come on you two jokers, we need to get out of here before the whole city collapses on top of us."

Dashwood was on one hand relieved, but on the other deeply worried by the appearance of the AOS agents. It verified she and Vassal did indeed have links to Government in Cyro, but the AOS were so... simple, they could wreck a carefully constructed story.

(OOC: Er...I think I missed where the princess disappeared to...I thought she was with Dashwood...o
all Klatchian flags had bee removed from offices and such, leaving only the provincial Dyelli Beybian flags. Cooper himself even made a public adress, openly criticising the Klatchian Parliament, calling it a 'haunnt of hicks'. The Dyelli Beybians were trying to distance themselves from the other Klatchians...

Alconians find that a bit disturbing...)

IC:
Landgravine Hubris's fencing partner was now headed towards the emergency room. It appears that a sat picture just showed the North Germanians 'dispersing' a riotous armed crowd.

"The North Germanians just...what the f*** did they learn crowd dispersment...Hitler's Guide for winning Freinds and Influencing People?"
The hand and a half sword swung around the room flinging dropplets of blood on the terracotta tile floor and oak paneling.

"Well, my fellow Klatchians seem to be burning bridges like Sherman on god damn LSD trip...except for the Deyllians...Who are f***king supposed to be keeping the others from doing this kind of crap..."

((OOC: The Princess is near Dashwood but not standing next to her, per se.))

IC: North Germina perhaps should have rethought the bombing. They bombed a city that way collapsing. That was never a good combonation. It killed all the insurgents, yes, yet at also decimated the support piller nearby, sending the road collasping. Not only would this cost the evacuation about ten precious minuets, it also oblitearated the main land route to the stadium. The soliders of Hirgizstan would need to take smaller roads to esacpe the stadium. And the time to take those took might spell doom for the troops.

Also, small chunks of land started to fall into the abyss. Not much longer now. If things went as they were heading now, the city would be under in a little more than 45 minutes...

---

Dart declined the cigar (Never liked them, anyway), and -listened throught the speech and decided it was his turn to speak. "Mr. Dzerzhinsky, you spoke of a civil war. Do you mean here in your Klatch?" He stated, still with his 'angry yet polite' deamenor.

He also concluded these outlanders were meaning to use Neo Tyr. Just like those damn outlanders. Saving their country because it was convineant. But he had to let, at least for now. His country depended on him.

---

In Alcona and Hubris the noble Damian Haart was looking idly at the celing. What was happening? He had heard only rumors of his homeland. He sat up and paced the room he had been givin. Damn it! Why did he have to be here! He returned to his seat and sighed, pondering things.

---

Kajar put his radio aside as his agent brought the car over. "Lord Kajar! Let's head to the port."

Kajar nodded. "Right. I'd adise you come to, Commisar." He said to Baldwin, heading to his car.

The Var stirred about the matter but decided to let the fools perish (tag)

Dzerzhinsky frowned, "Did I mention war, I think you have the wrong end of the stick. I have no intention of fighting the rest of Klatch. Dyelli Beybi would be slaughtered, with or without Neo Tyr."

He steepled his fingers, "It is true Dyelli Beybi has one of the best militaries in Klatch, but when pitted against the combined forces of Vrak, North Germania, Midlonia, Alcona and Hubris, and of course the JDF... well we'd lose. There will be no war with Klatch. Dyelli Beybi has not, and indeed never will commit itself to a military excercise which is doomed from day one."

"What I am proposing is, if Neo Tyr gains Statehood, as is my aim, that the States of Dyelli Beybi and Neo Tyr form a political and economic alliance to further our combined goals within the Klatchian Parliament. In time Neo Tyr and Dyelli Beybi can grow to control the whole of Klatch... in time, maybe not our time, maybe in our children's time or their children's time and so on."

He paused again, this time for dramatic effect, "It is true, there will be a Civil war, in time, I know it in my heart, but it isn't going to be us that starts it. It will be North Germania, or more likely Midlonia, already they've moved against Klatchian allies in the haven... but I digress... Dyelli Beybi will not deploy itself militarily unless it is absolutely necessary, in which case we will need the strong backing of other States that would likewise see the economic benefits of neutrality, or else run the risk of angering one side or another by virtue of neutrality."

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

Baldwin followed quickly after the pair, "We can probably squeeze you two in the Sea Planes, but as it is we're rather crowded."

(OOC: Because this is getting a bit confusing I'm going to explain what DB is up to OOCly for everyone's benefit. Feel free to misinterpret things or not know them depending upon who you are.

Yep the Princess is with Dashwood who's trying to escond her from the city uinder disguise, Dashwood spoke to a Vrakian before entering the Palace so it is likely someone suspects she's up to no good.

DB had plans to try to stamp out the violence in Kyrall, but deployed in the city too late, and has been forced to evacuate before acomplishing anything. Whats more, confusion in the National Parliament, means that the Dyelli Beybians still belive the Landgravine Hubris is in charge of the opperation.

Cooper has been distancing himself from Klatch, although he's not planning a rebellion, he's just trying to avoid violence in Easterling.

Dzerzhinsky likewise is not plotting a rebellion, although he fears Midlonia's actions in Neo Tyr and Kriegorograd are going to lead to civil war. As such he is trying to build a good diplomatic Relationship with Neo Tyr, also with the concurrent aim of ensuring Lunchtime O'Booze gets back onto the Privy council. Dzerzhinsky is convinced the de-election of Lunchtime O'Booze was unconstitutional and is building a legal case against the Landgravine, which he hopes he can convince Neo Tyr to back if he gets them full statehood.

To: The Outer Ministry of the United Duchies
From: The Macisikani Newsmedia Association
Subject: re: Neo-Tyr

Regretfully, His Imperial Majesty's Newsmedia must decline to accept your offer.

We already know all that we wish to of Klatchian Policy.

============================

Arn-Dettya

The latest set of status reports had just arrived at Lord deSoto's desk.
With mounting horror he flipped through them.
"Deliberate targeting of civilians... mass deportations... attacks on local authority figures... bombing a collapsing city... this isn't an occupation..." his voice trailed off.
"Jenny," he pressed the button that summoned his secretary, "get me the Office of the Archduke... I wish to address the House of Lords. Today."

Lord deSoto was slightly upset.

Upset enough to order the MCR to cease operations and withdraw without any warning.
But, fortunately for the North Germaninan Soldier currently arriving in Arn-Maciska International Airport, he was not upset enough to cut off all aid; the soldier's treatment would take place.
For now.

To: The Outer Ministry of the United Duchies
From: The Macisikani Newsmedia Association
Subject: re: Neo-Tyr

Regretfully, His Imperial Majesty's Newsmedia must decline to accept your offer.

We already know all that we wish to of Klatchian Policy.

To: The Macisikani Newsmedia Association
From: The Outer Ministry of the United Duchies

We hoped that the Macisikani Newsmedia would want question Klatchian Policy in Neo-Tyr, especially in light of recent events and were willing to give them that oportunity.

Obviously we were wrong about the Macisikani Newsmedia...

We will inform you that no interview will be given since any Klatchian News Outlet would be seen as automatically soft on such questions.

***********
Haart should have had a T.V. in his room. The only problem was that all P.O.W amentities had been routed through a Dyellian contractor. His T.V. was now being enjoyed by a little old lady in Cyro.

There was a knock on the door..."Lord Haart...you are requested for an interview..."

Dart nodded. "I see. Now, let us get to the point. What do you want me to do when I get back to the archepelago?" He asked Dzerzhinsky strightforwardly.

---

Kajar nodded. "Right. Young, bring us to the port." He said. His aid abided and the car was on it's way to the coast.

---

Haart looked up from his seat. Interview...? he wondered as he stood and collected himself. "Yes... I will come." he said, strighting out some wrinkles in his shirt.

((Man, that was short...))

OOC: Basic thinking of the commanders in Neo Tyr:
"Well, I don't understand it, so let's start shootin'!"

IC:

- Encryption Max -

Code: 900-POF12-18-F-65

Message to: Hirgizstani Stadium; Kyrall
Message from: Germanian Lüftwaffe; Kyrall waters
Subject: Bombing

"All insurgents attacking your sector annhilated. However, main road destroyed for some hundred yards.

Sending in 32 armored NH-90 Transport Helicopters supported by 18 Apache Attack Helicopters.

We promise to evacuate all Hirgizstani soldiers we unintentionally put in danger. Furthermore, we apologize for our incompetance."

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

In addition to the Hirgizstani forces, a transport helicopter fleet of Biblical proportions was sent into the city and dispersed, to pick up as many Reichswehr Imperial Soldiers as possible. With roughly 45 minutes left, it was estimated they could pick up over 1,000 soldiers with those helicopters alone.

Over 7,500 men had already safely made it to the ships in the waters outside of Kyrall. However, that left roughly 1,500 soldiers still in Kyrall, as well as over 45 armoured vehicles and tanks.

The soldiers still in Kyrall were being held-down by insurgents. Machinegunner Kahn, having earned a name for himself among the people of Neo Tyr and the Reichswehr both, he held his machinegun close and gunned down anyone in his path.

His Gewehr Korps had almost made it to the docks...

- N.G.

OOC; Whoa, I’ll try to catch up here.

IC:

The Lieutenant snarled at the oncoming Dyellians, for that is what they must be. They certainly didn’t look like JDF or Vrakians. He addressed the group again.

“My orders are from Fleet Admiral Killamo directly, and I doubt anyone here outrank him. You,” pointing to Vassal with his free hand, “Are to be a guest aboard his flagship while you,” pointing with his pistol at Dashwood, “are free to go. In fact, it is strongly encouraged that you will go. File all the protests you wish. I could give a Croc’s ass.”

In fact, the Vrakians were quickly losing patience with the belligerence of both groups. The soldiers moved to form up and interpose themselves between Dashwood and Vassal. One produced a pair of handcuffs for Vassal since he was the only one to be taken away. The rest of the soldiers along with the gunner on the Vodnik warily watched the proceedings. If everyone was turned into meat sauce, well, it would be that much harder for the spin doctors to do their thing, but not insurmountable. Then again, perhaps the latest transmission from the JDF marshal has something to do with the Vrakian insistence? In any case, if further delays were encountered, the soldiers would get physical, first a strong push and positioning the body and moving up to clubbing someone with the butt of their guns or cracking someone in the nose. If more resistance began, then they would shoot, but would try to keep Vassal and Dashwood alive.

The helicopter, a Ka variant, settled down but had the rotors spinning. Clearly the imminent collapse of the city was the reason for this.

OOC: Vrak doesn’t know that the Princess is in the party. Thankfully, she didn’t spill the beans.

====

To: Diplomatic Corps Vrak
From: His Grace, Alexander III
Subject: Neo Tyr

The President and I must immediatly discuss the obvious failings of policy in Neo Tyr and its potential implications.

To: His Grace, Alexander III
From: The Office of the FKC president
Subject: Neo Tyr

The President grants you an audience within his chambers.

To: The Macisikani Newsmedia Association
From: The Outer Ministry of the United Duchies

We hoped that the Macisikani Newsmedia would want question Klatchian Policy in Neo-Tyr, especially in light of recent events and were willing to give them that oportunity.

Obviously we were wrong about the Macisikani Newsmedia...

We will inform you that no interview will be given since any Klatchian News Outlet would be seen as automatically soft on such questions.


From: Macisikani Newsmedia Association
To: The Outer Ministry of the United Duchies

While indeed we do strive for objectivity, rationality, and completeness in all that we do, we are, above all else, Macisikani.

We shall be honest and frank with you; Macisikan doesn't care about Neo-Tyr's problems anymore.

Furthermore, our leaders have already formed their opinions and views on the Klatch; and so have we. We do not believe that you would allow us to ask "hard" questions, or that you would permit them to be broadcast. We believe that if we were to portray your leader negatively it would prompt your more hot-headed nations to declare war on our country. We also believe that if we were to portray your leader negitavely, it would endanger the lives of our aid workers in Neo-Tyr.

No interview will be able to change this.

To: The Mackistani Newsmedia
From: The Outer Ministry of Alcona and Hubris

We can not do anything for increasing your intrest in the Neo-Tyr situation. We will inform you that due to...we have no diplomatic way of putting it...stupidity on our part...the destruction of Kyrall is eminant along with severe casualties to both sides.

Nor can we do anything to salvage your opinion of us. We can only say that as far as we can tell you have seen the Klatch at its worst, strangly you have ignored events in New Shiron in this same time period.

However, the assumption that the Landgravine or the United Duchies would not allow you to ask "hard" questions or broadcast them is slanderous libel. We would offer a live, unscripted interview with the priviso any question found to endanger national secrets would only answered with the reply "that is off limits due to security concerns" if we thought that you would actually commit the interview.

Finally, we respect your fear of reprisals for doing the interview both to your nation and to your aid workers in Neo-Tyr. The actions of our fellow Klatchian States recently are troubling in that regard.

*****
1215 Hours, Apethorpe Palace Landing Strip
The Saab 2000 jet took off and began to climb as a squadron F-35s and two modified B-1's swung low to begin forming their protective screen. It was the first time in almost a generation that the Grand Duke himself was traveling outside of the United Duchies.

You are watching MNB News

"... remains to be seen.

In a surprise move, Lord Carthach deSoto, Director-General of the Macisikani Red Cross, has announced an immediate reduction in MCR operations in Neo-Tyr, despite the imminent destruction of the capital city,

Director-General deSoto indicated that over the next week MCR operations would be scaled back by 50%. A further 30% reduction, of the original commitment, would take place the week after, with a complete ending of all operations in Neo-Tyr in a month's time.

In an emotional speech to the Parliament, Director-General deSoto said that this was the first time that MCR had to admit defeat. Lord deSoto told the Parliament "We can do no more there. It is over," before tendering his resignation from MCR.

An MCR spokeswoman told MNB that the board of MCR had refused to accept Director-General deSoto's resignation, and the King-Emperor sent Lord deSoto a letter of encouragement for his work in Neo-Tyr.

Now for sports..."

==========

From: Director of Operations, Neo-Tyr
To: All directors, all stations
Subject: Withdraw

Conditions in Neo-Tyr are no longer conductive to humanitarian operations.
All stations are to begin shut down procedures.
All personnel are to prepare for evacuation.
Evacuation is to commence immediately.

ACK.

DoO, NT.

==========

To: Outer Ministry of Alcona and Hubris
From: MNA

We are sadly aware of the terrible situation in Kyrall; as you are no doubt aware, MCR is pulling out of the city as fast as it can.

If we believed that we were safe from reprisals, and if we did accept your guarantees for the interview, we would be willing, indeed we would pleased and privileged to conduct it. But even if this all was the case, our Parliament is more likely to sneer than to listen.

As for New Shiron, we leave you with this Chinese proverb; "One sting is remembered more than a thousand caresses". Neo-Tyr is a very large sting.

==========

Arn-Maciska Imperial Hospital
A young man lay unconscious on a hospital bed, engulfed in the maw of some great machine.
Delicate instruments moved back and forth, slowly removing shards of steel.
In a small vat, a spherical shape was forming on an invisible frame.
"Status of the patient?"
"Extraction of final debris. We shall commence reconstruction within 4-6 hours."
"Excellent."

The AOS agents looked at each other, "Well that's not very friendly." one remarked.

"Doesn't really make much sense to me, but I'm not an officer."

Dashwood wasn't the biggest fan of AOS, they were good at their job, but tended to not properly grasp the gravity of the situation. On the other hand these two were from inside the airport...

"What's your name rank and serial number?" she demanded, if the opportunity came her way she would put a bullet in the man's back.

She waited for an answer before continuing, "Since we don't have much choice, I'll leave him with you, but bear in mind if anything untoward happens to him... well just be very careful."

She gave her sweetest smile. That was a threat to be taken seriously, the Cheka had a well founded reputation for nastiness, "Come on you lot." she signalled to the other Neo Tyrans, "We're going back to the plane. We'll have to pick the Lord Vassal up later."

OOC: Lol, General Steel and the CH-53G were the last of the soldiers to leave the stadium, i would say it was minutes before the NG bombing raid so there's no soldiers left within 2 miles, however i'll RP an attacked column of the 2nd Regiment that need urgent pick up under fire.

IC:

General Steel listened intently to the North Germanian Radio Broadcasts. He told the men to look out the windows facing toward the stadium, while he himself walked toward the back of the aircraft, peering over the rear ramp door. He heard the roar of powerful jets and then, almost at the same time a massive fireball seemed to engulf the stadium and the surrounding area, the shockwave and noise hitting moments later, jarring the heavy aircraft, shaking so much that the General fell to his knees, while the pilot regained composure.

Once the jet engines faded the General looked up, the stadium was fading into the distance but the smoke could still be seen, as he looked out he saw part of the stadium collapse to the side, parts collapsing like cards onto the surrounding tarmac that also seemed to shudder and crack, braking the road leading out toward the coast.

Moments later a Captain from the second Regiment was on the Command Net saying his column of 10 AAAV's, around 90 soldiers, had been ambushed and the AAAV's couldn't contine because of the roads. He was rear echelon and on an unstable road, it seemed most of the vehicles had made it closer to the coast, on more stable ground.

"This is Captain Brubaker for General Steel, come in?"

The General grabbed the radio that he had taken from the Operator, and was now carrying it himself. "Brubaker, Steel here, go ahead son."

"Yes sir, we're banged up bad here, i've got 3 AAAV's out of action, 3 more got caught in the ruptured road and can't move, the rest are mobile but the state of the roads means we can't move them, we're engaged in a large neighbourhood. We're holed up in a centrally located park, grid co-ord 569876. We can hold but we need to move out if we're gonna make it, please advise sir."

"Sit tight son, the North Germanians have scrambled a rescue team, i'll send them your co-ords and your radio frequency, you sit tight, your gonna make it son, you hear me. There's 2 Cobra's coming to help you, you'll be fine son."

"Yes sir, hoo-rah, Brubaker out."

The General immediately fumbled about with the handset and put it to his mouth,clearing his throat and waiting for a second before speaking in fluent North Germanian (OOC:I instituted programs a while a go to make sure most military Officers and Citizens could speak all the languages of my allies, but i'd forgotten until i found it in an old document of mine). "North Germanian Luftwaffe, this is General Steel. We have a group of 90 or so Marines that need immediate evac at grid 569876. Can you get to them, over?"

-COH-

At the causeway, Vassal saw what he must do. “Fine…” He muttered, and allowed himself to be captured by Vrak. Vassal didn’t know much about Vrak. One thing he knew is that they were lead by a seal or something to that effect. The other was that they were, in his eyes, warmongers. Warmongering seals did not look very safe in his eyes, but he had to do what he had to do. The Vrakians cuffed Vassal, and he turned to Kyrall and gave a forlorn sigh as he was lead away. He was leaving his homeland again. Would he ever see Isle Vassilian with his own eyes ever again?

Meanwhile, the Rose-turned-Dyellian agents followed Dashwood with Marimeta, heading to the plane. It was their primary concern to get the girl off the island. They ha managed to calm her down, but she couldn’t conjure an accent. If she were to be questioned, ‘Lorna’ or Dashwood would have to save her.

---

Across the ocean, Haart finished preparing himself for this interview. What did the Klatch want from him? How would an interview whit him help their agenda? Perhaps interview was a kind way of saying ‘Lead to the gas chamber’? Haart pushed this aside. If they were stupid enough to kill him, it would spell doom for the occupation. The nobles, if killed, would start a chain-reaction of events, which would essentially make the Klatch lose all political support in Neo Tyr. And with no political support, they’d need to conquer with muscle.

Elsewhere, Grant Dart waited politely (Even if it was testing his patience. House Dart was not known for it’s patience) for the man sitting in front of him’s response. Why these outlanders were shipping him out was beyond his knowledge.

---

Tedwards Crooks was thinking. This occupation was not going to plan. Not only did those Klatch make it so Kyrall would be extirpated, Belda was having second thoughts on the revolution. No, things were not going to plan at all. Dead-Eye did not like it when his plans were foiled (Which could be derived from the cooling corpse of the poor messenger who gave the news). So he sat and plotted, under the great city of Nochior, on his way to counter-act these new events and make them work to his advantage.

---

Dronor. The anchient capitol of Neo Tyr. While Kyrall might be the official capitol, Dronor was the capitol of the people. Statues lined every street to the old town, buildings from the original settlement still stood proud. It was one of two major cities, however, not to have an undercity, the other being Easterling. However, trouble still brewed undergound.

On the bad side of town there was a small staircase leading into the ground in a back alley. From there, there was locked door. Inside that, there was a hallway that had a message for thieves to turn back. At the end was another door. The door to the Halls of Whispers- the lair of MANHUNTER. The ancient and most secret guild of assassins. They were rumored to be the best in the world. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t, but it was known that no man was equal to their lowliest member in the Viridian Archipelago. It was there that they trained for hours upon hours. It was there that they wrote writs of execution. It was there where their leader was. He was sitting cross-legged in the middle of a small room. The room itself was pitch black, but there were small bowls containing fire hanging from the ceiling, and one of the odd chemicals MANHUNTER used made the fires burn red, giving the room a hellish look, like the entirety of the Halls of Whispers. The Master was approached by a man in all black, cloths especially weaved to be strong, silent, and never to restrict movement. “Master,” he said in a hushed voice, “al-Shada’id has been spirited away by Midlonia. The artists wish to hear your statement.”

The Master moved his head up and opened his eyes, breaking the meditation he was in. “Tell Midlonia that if he is not returned there will be a Grand Lethal. We shall not willing accept the boorishness of these outlanders.” He said, closed his eyes, and returned to his meditation.

The other man nodded. “At once Master, your wisdom knows no bounds.” He said in departing, made a bow, and left the room to deliver the message, where it would make it’s way ina little while to Midlonia. This very well could be one of the most important moments of this occupation, because MANHUNTER never missed its mark. If the outlanders were targeted, the outlanders would die.

---

The squad car containing Baldwin, Kajar, and Young had arrived at the docks. They were filled to the brink, they were never meant to accommodate such voluminous amounts of traffic. Ross Kajar exited and surveyed the area. “Commissar,” he asked Baldwin without detering his gaze from the masses of people, Tyrinian and Klatch, swarming the docks, “Where would we find your vessel?” He asked with a small shiver. It was rather cold outside.

"What's your name rank and serial number?" she demanded, if the opportunity came her way she would put a bullet in the man's back.

She waited for an answer before continuing, "Since we don't have much choice, I'll leave him with you, but bear in mind if anything untoward happens to him... well just be very careful."

She gave her sweetest smile. That was a threat to be taken seriously, the Cheka had a well founded reputation for nastiness, "Come on you lot." she signalled to the other Neo Tyrans, "We're going back to the plane. We'll have to pick the Lord Vassal up later."


The Lieutenant did not deign to answer. He merely returned her ID and waved the rest of the New Tyrinians away. They escorted Vassal to the waiting chopper and having completed that, returned to their patrols. Still, a small detachment of soldiers, including the Vodnik followed the Dyellians to their airplane - taking care to make sure they did not deviate from their path.

Throughout the airport, troops and equipment could be seen packing up, although some still remained. The Vrakian engineers estimated that even if the entire city collapsed that the airport itself may escape destruction, since it was an island that extended out from the city proper.

====

Destiny's Fist

-Admiral, Lord Vassal has been captured. The rest of them have been let go.
-Good. Patch me through to the Dyellian fleet commander.

The Dyellian plane was a small jet. The interior almost resembled that of an office, except the walls had long sofas on them, and these usually didn't usually come fitted with safety belts in an office. As soon as they were on the plane, Dashwood flung her cap across the interior, "I told him to leave it to me, bloody hell, he should have trusted me more."

She was not in a good mood, "Open the line up to Felix. Your Highness, you might want to have a word with whoever's on the other side, I forget his name... pilot clear for takeoff, set a course for Easterling."

There were at two junior Cheka agents on the flight. One nodded, "Right you are Ma'am." he began tapping away at a computer console. That was something else odd about this plane. It had a lot of computers onboard.

The two AOS agents were stripping their armour off and stowing that and their weapons in a locked cabinet, one seemed eager to talk to the Rose agents, "So what are you guys, spooks, Specials ops?"

He offered a flask of some green liquid to the Rose agent, after taking a swig himself, "Drink?"

It would turn out to be absinthe, a drink the Dyelli Beybians were worryingly keen on.

There was a third AOS agent on the flight, he looked Senior to the other two, and was also seated behind a computer, he had a headset on, and was apparently was deep in coversation with Dashwood although, whatever they were saying was lost over the general chatter in the cabin. She looked... enraged was probably the best way of putting it.

The Commisaar at the desk, turned in his chair, "Got Felix on the line Ma'am."

The plane began to taxi towards the nearest available runway, the pilot, rapidly requesting take-off clearance. The last thing they wanted was a mid-air collision now.

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

(OOC) Sorry I missed the last response on this side topic.

Dzerzhinsky smiled, "Hearts and minds. Hearts and minds. We want the other Klatchians out, then it's free for us to start trying to repair some of the damage. How you do all that is entirely over to you."

Then the phone bleeped. "Ah." the Commisaar's smile broadened, at long last, "This is a video relay, so turn around."

He pressed a button causing a blank sheet to entend from the far wall, there was a camera position above it, "Trust me this is all heavily encrypted, this relay won't be intercepted."

The screen lit up, showing the interior of the plane, "Chlarissa, glad to see you." Dzerzhinsky spoke to the projected image of Commisaar Dashwood.

"Good to see you two Sir. Got the Princess, but unfortunately the Vrakians snatched Vassal, despite my pointing out he was under protection of the State."

Felix nodded, "You want Collins to intervene in Klatchian Parliament."

"Yep." she replied, "Also we're feeding you a description of a Vrakian Officer, his placing at the airport should give you some idea who he is, he may need to be made redundant."

The older Commisaar frowned, "We'll have to discuss this later, for now though, I think it is a good idea if we let our respective guests talk."

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

Back in Kyrall, Baldwin frowned, "Ah... hrrm, can you swim? Only they seem to be some distance out to Sea."

The Sea planes were indeed some distance out to sea, but hadn't taken off, apparently they were trying to avoid hostile fire or boarding parties from the land. It was probably a little bit far for most swimmers. Then a voice lent hope to the situation, "Commisaar, over here!" Indded, over to the left, there were four AOS officers levelling loaded weapons at the crowd, keeping them back from the small dhingey they'd aquired.

"Hold your horses folk, the Lord Fisher will be in soon, we'll be able to pick up a fair number of you, but only if you keep off our bloody dhingey."

The officers were wearing no armour, it could be noted, indeed, they weren't even wearing the heavier items of clothing. It looked in fact, like they were prepared to swim if it came down to it.

Across the ocean, Haart finished preparing himself for this interview. What did the Klatch want from him? How would an interview whit him help their agenda? Perhaps interview was a kind way of saying ‘Lead to the gas chamber’? Haart pushed this aside. If they were stupid enough to kill him, it would spell doom for the occupation. The nobles, if killed, would start a chain-reaction of events, which would essentially make the Klatch lose all political support in Neo Tyr. And with no political support, they’d need to conquer with muscle.



Earlier that Day

To: General O'Booze, Advisor to the Privy Council
From: Landgravine Hubris

With your appointment to being a Voting member of the Council appearing emminant. I was hoping that you would join me for dinner meeting to discuss what items of mutal intrest are on the Privy Council's agenda. I was going to conduct some buisness that has been on my agenda for quite some time and just needs to get cleared off the books. As such I have taken to renting one of the private pavillions at the Klomo Club to avoid all the incessent little items that pop up at the office. Perhaps you would care to join me at eight?

*******
Lord Haart was no longer residing in the falling down villa that had been the center of his P.O.W camp. Now he was in a limo being driven along a series of country roads and then around a small lake. Across it the bright lights of what looked like a hotel burned brightly. The scene vanished as the car plunged back into the woods.

A few moments later the car pulled next to an ivy covered concrete wall. A single light illuminated the wall and a dark green steel door. An armed guard stood at the door.

Haart was led through the door and a few others just like it before entering a room with two tables and a few chairs.

"Please take a seat Lord Haart, someone will be with you in a minute..."

*****
The last of the four 'antenna' ships left Squall Straits behind and began to set a course for Neo Tyr.

OOC: Heh, oops. Wasn't paying close attention there...

Message to: General Steel
Message from: Helicopter Rescue Group 6

"Coordinates located and confirmed. ETA 9 minutes. Expect your soldiers out within 12 minutes. Over."

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

Grid coordinates 569876...

Ten of the DU-armoured NH-90A transport helicopters, followed by three Apache attack helicopters, were at the coordinates.

As the NH-90A's hovered over the Hirgizstani forces, the Apaches began bombarding any hostiles approaching the Hirgizstanis with 20mm cannon fire.

Wires with large hooks on the end were dropped from the NH-90A's. Fifteen ESPK Special Ops dropped down from the wires and began firing on insurgents. They moved with machine-like efficiency, taking no casualties, and hitting every target they aimed for.

Pilot Kelpner: "Attach the wires to your AAAVs now! All Hirgizstani soldiers into the AAAVs!"

As the hooks on the steel wires coming from the NH-90A's were attached to the AAAVs, the soldiers piled into the armoured vehicles.

The helicopters were taking small arms fire, but the Apaches were doing a great job of killing anyone who fired on them.

The large NH-90A's lifted the AAAVs and the soldiers inside off the ground.

As soon as they were high enough, they headed towards the FKC airport on the island outside of Kyrall, followed by the Apaches.

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

Message to: Vrakian Command; Kyrall Airport
Message from: Germanian Helicopter Rescue Group 6

"Have rescused 10 Hirgizstani AAAVs and 90 soldiers. Requesting permission to land at the airport. We are on our way. Request clearance. Over."

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

- N.G.

Vassal entered the helicopter without protest. If he did, it might give the warmongering seals a reason to kill him. In retrospect, it might not have been the best idea. He could see in his mind's eye Rudvich's infuriated face, calling him an iditot and chastising him for his stupid mistake. However, the Vrakinans took the prize of Lance Vassalm and not the ulitmate one of Marimeta Cicily Llamanian. He hoped she would be in good hands. Hopefully Dashwood would see her to be safe. He trusted Dashwood (Another thing Rudvich would have despised, as the only people he trusted was the family and his old friends), and hoped that she would keep the Princess safe.

---

Under the earth, the command center of the Kyrall Undercity was abandoned. Any other day it would be filled with people checking over diagrams and computers with a plenthora of info on them, but today it was fully empty. Save one. The old wrinkled face of Raash DuVaul kept his silent vigial over the screens. He knew he was going to die. If the info on the board was correct, he had about twenty minuets. But the reason he was down here was to make sure he could keep the pillers up as long as possible. It was an important job (He was able to cut the lost time due to Germinan bombing from ten minutes to six). He had written a letter to his family, it was sent. He was enjoying the aged bottle of Snow Rose he was saving- vintage 1967. Good year. Most enthusats say there was no better year for the plantations of Great House Vassal. But I'm rambleing know, aren't I? In any case, the old man looked over the data, waiting for the end. Not much longer now...

---

The insurgents decied to go all out on the stadium. There was no real hope for them. Thier lives were ruined anyway. They had brought in the big guns- the JAVALINs, the TOWs, the ever-loved stingers too. Hell, they could never really get them off this island, their home. They were intent on using these weapons to kill the route of all evil, those damned outlanders, once and for all.

---

On the Dyeillan plane, Marimeta took a seat and moped. She concealed her feelings on the way; oh yes, she was very good at that. Yet now she was overwhelmed with guilt; guilt to her people, who would die. Guilt to Vassal, who along with Raash DuVaul she concidered her only true friends. Hell, she even felt guilt towards the Klatichans who would die, as she did not see mindless barbarians like her countrymen but real people with homes, familes, and lives.

The Rose agent idly looked at the AOS operative while setting his dark glasses back on his face. "The Lavain Rose is an orginization that gets into a bit of everything. Protection, intel, investiagtion- almost all important duties get pushed to us." He said, his surprizingly good Irish accent replaced with an emotionless monotone. Then he polietly refused the drink. Rose agents wern't supposed to drink on the job.

---

In the Benja House, Grant Dart heard something about guests talking, and assumed it would be himself and Llamanian. He watching the image of Dashwood curiously, wondering what would happen next.

Elsewhere in the world, Haart took a seat and pondered this new event. What was this all about?

---

At the docks of Kyrall, Ross Kajar made a glance towards the Commisar. "I suppose I could swim, but... You do know how cold that water is, correct? We would have to make very good time if you don't want to freeze to death..." He said pessimisticly, looking at the grey water lap onto the sea wall.

The area was under police control. Patrols went around, killing any insurgent stupid enough to attack. But that wasn't too much of a problem, as insurgents did not enjoy opening fire onto their own kind.

Kajar looked at the dhingy. "Commisar Baldwin, we need to get on that vessel. You can get us through, correct?" He said in a rethorical manner.

"Suit yourself." the AOS officer took a fairly hefty swig from the flask, then tossed it back in the cupboard, "My job's done for today anyway."

He sat down on one of the long sofas against the wall, clipping the belt around his waist, "I'd get seated if I was you, mate, things can get a bit bumpy at takeoff."

He seemed completely unaware the Rose agent wasn't getting that involved in the whole conversation, "I'm Armed Offenders Squad. We're primarily sent out to deal with well... armed offenders, but we do occasionally do military style covert opperations. I think you'd say we're better trained than most comparative police departments."

It was the truth. They had up until recently been the only Special Forces in Dyelli Beybi.

Dashwood had also stepped back and fastened herself into a seat, "Your highness." she sounded slightly timid, "Could you possibly come and sit over here so that Mr Dart can see you? We're also going to discuss what we can do about Neo Tyr, considering the current situation and as you're head of State for your country I think you should really be a part."

On the other side of the link Dzerzhinsky nodded, "When the Princess is present we'll begin, to start, we should probably hear what goals the Princess has for her Nation in the short and long term."

Dzerzhinsky was a cold fish. He knew full well Kyrall was collapsing, but he also knew there was nothing that could be done about it, so instead he wiped it from his mind and planned for the future. Realpolitik.

As soon as everyone was properly seated, the noise of the jet engines turned up a notch as the plane began to race down the runway.

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

"They're with me." Baldwin called to the AOS officers.

"Right you are Commisaar", the one in charge called back, and let the two from Neo Tyr onto the dhingey with Baldwin.

As the outboard motor started she breathed a sigh of relief, "We've been extremely lucky."

As the small craft raced out towards the sea planes, one of the AOS agents pointed off the Starboard bow, "Smoke on the horizon."

There was indeed smoke, and quite a bit of it, and that was a sure sign of a Dyelli Beybian capital vessel (either that or someone had set fire to an oil rig). The Dyelli Beybians still ran all their ships on oil... or coal, it was a rather pig headed harking back to a time when they had been forbidden to have nuclear weapons, they'd never got rid of the weapons, but had got rid of the generators on ships. Moments later a Sea Harrier buzzed overhead. It seemed the Dyelli Beybian High Seas fleet was running early.

O'Booze never replied to the letter, but nevertheless arrived at the Klomo Club at exactly 10 minutes past Eight, under the escort of two AOS Officers. That department really seemed to have been earning it's keep since the name change (previously it had been called the Gestapo. Someone had recently pointed out the obvious - that people were starting to think the fairly non-agressive, left leaning Dyelli Beybian Government was somehow linked to the Nazis. The old name had to go.).

O'Booze had been briefed to be wary for assassination attempts. The Cheka didn't trust the Alconians, and while they thought they wouldn't be stupid enough to try to bump O'Booze off on an occasion like this, when everyone knew who he was meeting... well... you couldn't be too careful. That was why the AOS agents were there.

General Steel was listening over the Luftwaffe net as his CH-53G touched down on the deck of the HNS Pelieu out at sea. The deck was busy, very busy. Helicopters were landing and taking off at 2 minute intervals. The General walked his men out of the Helicopter and then returned inside so he could listen to the North Germanian Luftwaffe doing their jobs.

He hadn't expected them to save the AAAV's but they had. The NH-90's were on their way to the FKC airport. The General fiddled with the radio and then spoke,

"North Germanian Luftwaffe, this is General Steel. Thanks for the evac, we owe you one. Do you need me to pick my Marines up at the Airport?"

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

Meanwhile the Docks were becoming very hairy. Crowds of Neo Tyrians had to be kept back by Helicopters and the roads were kept clear by two ST-21 NGBT's. The last AAAV's were coming into the docks, the Marines had finally made it. There was no real risk of the docks collapsing, the undercity couldn't be built in the sea after all.

The only real risk now was if the massing crowds somehow broke through the outer barrier.

-COH-

The Club was located on a small lake on the north side of the city. O'booze was welcomed by the matre-dei and escorted out of the old building into a garden terrace overlooking the lake. The garden had several small gazebo structures filled with parties. One was a wedding group with a happy bride and groom having their pictures taken.

There was a large central pavillion structure standing next to a lilly pond. It was flanked by two guards in JDF uniform and carrying standard submachine guns. The inside was fairly luminecent, in stark contrast to the bandstand on the other side of the pond. Which was dark and unused.

A woman, in a blue blazer white blouce and pants stood up and offered her hand. It was not the Landgravine. No, it was her younger sister Elizabeth Crawford. The former Special Forces Officer (I can just imagine what the Deyllians think about Black Tabs) "General O'booze so glad you could make it...my sister's schedule went to hell...there was a bit of a problem at the University. You know how the Patrician deals with those sorts of things so she needed to be a bit pro-active. She will be here in about twenty minutes. We didn't want you feeling exposed so I was asked to join you for dinner...."

A waiter appeared, obviously wanting a drink order.

*********
Lord Haart had been waiting two hours. Finally a guard entered, "Lord Haart the other party has been unavoidably detained. As such you will likely have to wait awhile longer. However, you will be served dinner while you wait."

Haart was handed a leather bound menu that listed several dishes of steak and seafood, with no prices.

"Also, the facility would like to clean and set the table...so if you wouldn't mind excusing yourself from the table for a few minutes...you can take a stroll in the walled water garden...." He pointed towards a far door set into the concrete walls of the room. Another group entered through the door behind him, two bus boys with a cart.

Near Vrakprime

Vrakprime...calling Vrakprime...this is United Duchies Marine One requesting final landing instructions....

O'Booze was dressed in his usual field grey uniform with marvellously polished jack boots. A peaked cap served to cover the fact that the general was nearly completely bald, as well as somewhat overweight (something which was fairly unusual for a Dyelli Beybian, most looked emancipated compared to the citizens of other first world nations).

The ageing general took the proffered hand and shook it, "Quite understood Ms Crawford, hopefully she will be able to join us soon. Pardon my lateness, but I have been supervising the reconstruction work in Fiord Harbour."

O'Booze was far more than a General, he was also a Politician, and despite the implications of his name, was well respected in both facets (at least in Dyelli Beybi).

The guards didn't say anything, but it was clear that the absence of the Landravine and prescence of her sister was unexpected enough to put them on alert. They were dressed in dark green, but had switched to short sleeved shirts (rather than the usual long sleeved multi-pocketed variety) with the 'Armed Offenders Squad' logo on the right shoulder. They were missing helmets, wearing caps in their place, but had strapped armoured vests over their shirts, while each carried a shotgun. O'Booze had been adament on them dressing this way, while he felt bodyguards weren't necessarily a bad idea, he didn't want them dressed like they were planning to storm a building.

"Ah still cleaning up the mess the Neo-Tyrians made I suppose? Now your needed to clean up the mess the North Germanians and their allies have made. Oh, yes whiskey and soda..." She noticed the waiter finally and told him her order looking at O'Booze to do the same.

"Personally I'm glad the Alconian forces decided to focus on maintaining external security and not get involved in that mess in Kyrall." She seemed relaxed but alert. Her eyes focused more on the other guests in the garden than on the ornate stone bandstand across the large lilly pond.

"What I am really concerned about are the rumors of forced immigration by Mildonia. Who knows who they've emigrated. I mean the third, fourth, fifth people in line to the throne could be in a hut in the interior and apparently no one would know. Unless of course the Checka has them already stowed away someplace." Her eyes seemed to say that she thought that the Neo-Tyrian Royal blood line was likely completely extinct by now.

Elizabeth Crawford was not far from the truth. The Neo Tyrinian royal bloodline was almost extinct. All that was left was Marimeta. There was a tacit agreement within the archipelago that if Marimeta sadly died with no heir another House would vie for the crown. That could even lead to a small civil war, if Neo Tyr was still strong enough to have one.

All things considered, Mildonia's deportations still had three noted people, (One loved by the people, one by House Seabrook, one by MANHUNTER) and a plethora of others- from high power executives to homeless people. Neo Tyr knew most of them were alive, several had cell phones and contacted their loved ones. When Kyrall was over, the people would expect them back. If they weren’t returned it could make the bad situation in Neo Tyr much worse...

---

On the plane, Marimeta paced over. "I'm ready. I am Marimeta Cicily Llamanian, House Sister to Great House Llamanian and Princess of Neo Tyr," she said, turning her gaze towards Dart. "I'm glad to see you're safe, Grant Dart." She finished formally without too much emotion.

On the other side Dart kept his same facial expression. "Likewise, your Majesty." He said. From the tone of his voice, he had little love towards the girl.

Marimeta turned her attention. "So. Did I hear you correctly when you mentioned the goals of my nation?"

Meanwhile, the Rose agent was trying to give the cold shoulder to the AOS agent, but it didn't seem to be working. Usually, it wasn't too hard to turn people off from them, but this man seemed to want to keep talking. It was going to be a long day. Or at least longer than it had been.

---

Haart was worried. This seemed to be fishy business. He pointed to a steak on the menu, muttered something that sounded like 'medium-rare', and stood.
The noble started to the door, yet slowly. He rather liked his life, and couldn't trust these outlanders as far as he could throw them...

---

As Kajar watched the people at the docks get smaller and smaller he couldn't help feel a tinge of pity. Most of them wouldn't make it out alive. They'd probably survive the collapse, the undercity wasn't near the coast. Yet they would have no clean water, shelter, or standard healthcare when the undercity collapsed. Yet he would survive strictly on his surname (And Young would by a little of luck). It wasn't very fair, but he supposed that's the way the world worked. He shook the thoughts from his head and looked to Baldwin. "So where will you be taking me?" He asked.

Haart was worried. This seemed to be fishy business. He pointed to a steak on the menu, muttered something that sounded like 'medium-rare', and stood.
The noble started to the door, yet slowly. He rather liked his life, and couldn't trust these outlanders as far as he could throw them...
(OOC: I'm going to assume Haart becomes curious just to keep this moving...)

The guard took the menu back and shrugged. While the bus boys busied themselves with giving the table a good scrubing.

Beyond the door was a narrow, walled garden, lit by only a few working lights and filled with the distant sound of laughter, like a distant dinner party.

The place had an unused, abandoned feel to it. The flowers beds were filled with scrubby bushes and weeds. The stone walls were deeply covered in ivy. The pathways had a deep layer of fallen leaves from the four Olympian Magnolias that stood in the place. Only a few dim lights burned, the rest was a sea of shadow and shapes created by the faint moonlight. Escape over the walls appeared unlikely, nasty looking metal tines stood at the top of three of the walls. The wall that he had just come through was much higher than the other three.

At this end of the garden was a cicular pool, long empty of anything but leaves. At the far end was a multi level fountain in a groto. A small dry canal ran down the middle of the path connecting the two. There was apparently two additional gates built into the same wall as the door from the interogation room. The sounds of a dinner party appeared to be coming from beyond the gate at the far end.

As Haart moved along the path towards the far gate to investigate the sound, he approached the intersecting path to the first gate. A figure all in black with a mask across the face appeared out from the shadow of a tree.

The figure raised its left hand to its face and whispered, "Be quiet or the guards will hear you and investigate...come on." The figure's right hand grabbed Haart and propelled him towards the gate. A moment later the figure in black was quietly closing the gate behind them with Haart standing a few steps up a narrow staircase. The figure turned and pointed up the stairs just whispering "Go..." with urgency.

"Scotch, on the rocks, no water." the General chipped in after Crawford woman.

He took a moment to straighten his jacket before replying, "To be honest Neo Tyr didn't really do much during the brief insurection apart from launch an air raid against the main transport routes into Christchurch, they more or less just surrendered as soon as the Army showed up in force. In those first days they probably could have dislodged the single Benjian Infantry Battalion that was guarding the road to Squeegleton, but they seemed infected by inertia. Then they surrendered pretty promptly when the army arrived in Divisional strength. It was quite convenient really, it kept the town from taking anywhere near as much damage as it could."

His eyes lit up at the mention of forced immigration by Midlonia, "I'm glad you mentioned that, we had been watching that on sattelite, but haven't managed to formulate a propper course of action, I mean obviously we can't allow that to continue, can you imagine the damage something like that could do to Klatch's reputation? Obviously as fellow States of Klatch we are all going to be tarred with the same brush. I don't think the excuse that States can do as they please is going to cut any ice with the International community."

Something beeped from the General's (or Generalfeldmarshall's if you were going to use his official rank) pocket. He pulled it out and deposited it on the table, it looked a little bit like a cellphone, it had a screen which displayed grey text on a green background and a numberpad which presumably could also be used to write text. It was also fitted with a decoder, but that couldn't immediately be seen from the outside, "I'm getting a blow by blow acount of what's going on, transmitted courtesy of Benjia House." he explained.

He scrolled through the message hastily, aware that reading that kind of thing could be considered rude, "I wouldn't worry too much about their heir to the throne. It seems their Princess is quite safe, although Felix..."

He used the head of the Cheka's first name without thinking, but immediately corrected himself, "...I should say Commisaar Dzerzhinsky is deeply unhappy the Vrakians have seen fit to arrest the Neo Tyran 'Lord Vassal' while he was working with and under the protection of the Dyelli Beybian State. He was one of the Nobles we took prisoner at Fiord Harbour, needless to say this is going to cause quite a stir in Parliament, I think you know as well as I do, that when Dzerzhinsky is annoyed that tends to mean Mr Collins and half of Parliament is annoyed as well."

Dzerzhinsky carried enormous political weight, and had under Otto Himmler's regime as well. He was probably the single most powerful man in Dyelli Beybi, although theoretically Parliament could fire him... not that they'd dare.

Arn-Maciska

The Junior First Minister, Duke Stepan Alagarros, slowly lowered the three-page report onto his desk.
"You are sure of this?"
"Beyond any doubt your grace," the man on the other side, Director-General deSoto replied. "These... Midlonians, they have been shooting up civilians, and kidnapping others, spiriting them away to Klatch."
"You think these forcible deportations are for slave labour." It wasn't a question.
"Yes, your grace."
"Have you told the media yet?"
"No, your grace. But this report, the full one not this brief, wasn't sent by secure channels. They might have picked up on it..."
Alagarros glared at deSoto. He could feel a headache coming on.
"Of course they have it." the Junior First Minister sighed heavily. "It will be all over tomorrows papers. Klatch's name will be as mud..."
"You're sure?"
"My friend, that lot employ people from old intelligence services all over the world to do that. As for Klatch's name, well, the Arn-Maciska Times, the Maciska Daily, and the Imperial Guardian are distributed in all our Embassy partner's countries, and then some. MNB broadcasts worldwide. MNN does the same thing. The press is going to have a field day with this; did I say mud? I meant manure."
"You couldn't delay the news could you? Put an embargo on the story?"
"You are joking. Number one, the First Minister, when she gets back, would have my head on a pike; freedom of speech and press and all that. Number two, we have elections in five months; it won't change the government, but we'd like to have popular consent, and that doesn't happen without the media. I can get them to delay until tomorrow morning, but only so that I can tell Parliament. If they finds out about this on MNB they'll want to nail both our hides to a toilet door." Alagarros' voice trailed off, then resumed, rather more urgently. "And that's nothing compared to His Imperial Majesty's reaction if he finds out about this by reading tomorrow's edition of The Imperial Star."
"Ah. Good points."
"Yes... come on, we have to make appointments. Yes, I want you to come with me..."
As they left the office, the Duke rubbed his temples. The headache was going to be a big one. Argh. Bloody Migrane. Bloody Klatchians. It's all their fault. Not sure how, but it bloody well is.

Kyrall's Rue de Rois. A large road that went through the middle of the city. Historical, someone did something here, someone died there, there's a awfully nice statue of some Noble who didn't want to be forgotten even though he did nothing- like almost every street in Neo Tyr. The sun beat down on the black snow, polluted from exhausts in the big city. But it was not an average day for the road. No, it would be it's last.

Suddenly, there was a loud screeching, much like the moans the undercity had been displaying for the last two hours. However, it didn't stop. No, instead of easing away it became louder and louder, as if searing pain was tearing the earth. The citizens who didn't hear the call to leave of just wouldn't saw the road start to tear open. Small things slid into the scar that was forming- papers, trashcans, a popcorn stall- slipping under the ground. But the crack grew larger. Cars tumbled down along with pedestrians running but weren't strong enough to get away. Then, the eastern side of the slip broke and sent a large portion on if the sidewalk and part of an apartment building. As it fell, it shattered the first layer of the undercity and sunk lower into the ground. The other levels, the ones that weren't evacuated because the mass panic would slow the people who could, were crushed, sealing the fate of thousands.

Fires broke out while the same event happened to the western side. Pipelines broke out adding to the conflagration. The hole widened as more of the city collapsed under it's own weight. Another hole opened a small side away. The domino had started the chain. Only about ten more minuets now. Kyrall would burn. The depths would consume thousands of lives. The golden age of Neo Tyr was officially coming to an end. The devastation would be unimaginable. So it it written, so shall it be.

---

In a more peaceful land, Haart was taken aback by this masked character. He took a quick glance up the stairs and made his choice to go or not. It wasn't hard. He started up the stairs silently. If they wanted to kill him, they would have killed him then. Or maybe they just wanted information before burying him. Either way, he went heavenward into the pitch that concealed his future...

---

Marimeta continued the conversation on the plane. "Currently, any and all long term goals need to be forgotten. The situation in Kyrall will be dominating all of our resources-"

Dart scowled. "What situation." He interjected.

Marimeta waved him off. "You'll be briefed later. Now, as I was saying, not only will more likely that ten million be killed outright from the undercity alone-"

"What do you mean six million!?" Dart yelled.

"I said you'll be briefed later." Marimeta said with far more force, her face with annoyance glazed on it. "Now. Not only will millions be dead, we'll have millions more become refugees. We won't have the money or supplies to treat them. Millions will be without clean water, electricity, shelter, and their loved ones. Not only is this terrible, it will cause much anger. I assume the people, not wanting to blame themselves, will blame the Klatch. This amount of anger will undoubtedly translate into violence. And these were people who weren't going to be violent. First of all, do you have any ideas how the quell this violence, Commissar?" She asked Dzerzhinsky. Grant was scowling and tapping his foot. This didn't sound good to him at all.

(OOC: I appologize for the light goddmodding with your characters people except is ICly fictionalized history so real IC their behavior can slightly deviate from this...)
Sixty Years Later
The man sat down with his popcorn in his seat. He was a bit late as the movie had already started...

Haart and the figure in black (both played by people who only sort of looked like them in RL) scrambled to the top of the stairs. It was a small patch of roof. The figure picked up two submachine gun resting against a second set of stairs and tossed one to Haart. The figure pointed to a shadowy mass at the bottom of a second set of stairs leading up into a tower..."Don't trip on the body...

*****
Elizabeth turned slightly as the waiter arrived with their drinks. (After having a dance number with a 6'2" leading man actor playing O'Booze) She answered O'Booze simply, "In some ways this is all above my pay grade. Truthfully I've focused more on the refugee problem in New Shiron and building the refugee camps there recently. Now it appears I will be doing the same in Neo Tyr....Oh, Victoria has arrived..."

******
At the top of the tower the figure moved below the archway towards a metal grate that was out of place. "Follow me..." The figure stopped moving, her eyes caught something in the well lit garden below. It was filled with groups of people and waiters comming out of a large building on the other side. Her eyes were locked onto two people sitting below in a glass roof pavillion. The figure stood and cocked the submachine gun...

*****
The Landgravine (played by a woman completely wrong for the part in every way) exited the doors of the main clubhouse into the garden with her guards following. As Elizabeth stood up to greet her sister, her eye caught something 'wrong' in one of the bandstand's ornate spanish style towers. She turned and looked up at it.

*******
In the movie the actor playing Haart strode forward and opened fire with the submachine gun now in his hands. (The reality of who actually opened fire is still debated in various conspiracy cicles and by historians. However, it was captured by a photographer that he was there with a submachine gun in his hands.)
*****

At the first muzzle flash, Elizabeth yelled "Shooter, Beta post...there is a shooter in Beta post!" With one hand she flipped the table over on its side and with the other gripped the shoulder of O'Booze and threw him behind it. A second later she was laying next to him as bullets smashed into the wood. A sudden romantic embrace.

The guards surrounding the pavillion all threw up their arms and died glorious deaths as the waiter stood cringing while everything around him was smashed by bullets. (Another fiction of the movie industry, the gunman focused their attack on the table and the people hiding behind it. The guards suffered injuries from splinters and the odd errant bullet. The waiter got his in the forehead though.)
*****

Haart kept shooting until his clip was empty. Then dove for the open grate and saftey as the various guards around the place started to return fire...

Back to Reality
O'Booze found himself lying on the ground with Elizabeth inadvertantly kneeling into his back as she took command of the situation, and peered over the armored top of the table. The air was thick with people's screams and the sound of a 50 caliber machine gun turning the fake belltower into concrete dust. The Var guard fired a plasma round and quickened the process. That also sent debries falling all over the garden.

Victoria was behind a cast iron planter trying to push her Durakian guard off of her. She was one pissed Consul, her languange would have made a sailor blush if he knew Manx.

*******
Haart found himself in a musty room full of machinery with the sounds of battle coming down the airshaft behind him. The space was dark and cramped. The figure in black pushed him forward and pointed with a flashlight at a low hole in the wall. "Down this tunnel..." It was only three feet by three feet with a large, rusty pipe filling up one corner.
( OOC: In a more peaceful land That was foretelling if anything)

The real O'Booze, was a lot shorter and fatter than his movie counterpart, had he still been aroud to see it, he probably would have been quite disgruntled, possibly even more disgruntled than he was right now having the Crawford woman kneeling on his back, "You don't need to sit on me." he grumbled, "I'm not going to do anything dumb like stick my head up."

One of the Dyellian guards had taken a bullet in the arm, (a second had hit his vest, but hadn't penetrated) and was now propped up against a wall, holding his injured arm and letting out a stream of abuse against the gunman, the Cheka, the Church, Alconians, Vrakians, Benjians and just about everyone else.

The other had fired a couple of well aimed, but futile shots at the 'belltower', peppering the area with shotgun pellets.

The Cheka was right, O'Booze considered, although this couldn't be the Alconians... unless the Landgravine is even more of a cold hearted b!4ch than I thought she was.

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

In Kyrall, as the seaplanes took off from the water, the Adolf Eichmann finally arrived, off in the distance the Lord Fisher was also visible, steaming towards the docks, although it's bow was dipping alarmingly, something that happened at high speeds. The small carrier swung in towards the docks, for a moment looking like it was going to plow straight into them, causing another few thousand deaths. Luckily (and unusually) the crew seemed to be on the ball, and they managed to stop the ship in time.
Someone onboard lowered a gangplank onto the dock. An officer had also shown up on deck carrying a megaphone, "We can take 1,000 people. Women and children first please."

A few sailors armed with submachine guns and shotguns were also present on deck. He put the megaphone down, "If it gets out of control, push the plank into the water, if we get too many over 1,000 we'll be asking for trouble."

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

The AOS officer who had been holding a rather one way conversation with the Rose agent, nudged his companion, "Hey is that the Lord Fisher down there?"

The other officer craned his neck to look out the window, "Big Battleship, lots of smoke. Yep that'll be her."

A few feet away Dashwood coughed.

"No." Felix shook his head, "I can't, although I hope that Dyellian aid will at least deflect the blame from us somewhat towards those who are actually responsible. Did you have something to say Commisaar?"

Dashwood shook her head, "No, just clearing my throat."

"Right. Anyway, you don't need to worry about resources. I have come up with a plan, but I will need to get it ratified by the Dyellian Parliament."

He paused, to make sure everyone was listening, "Neo Tyr obviously needs to get rid of the Klatchians, and I think I have a way. Neo Tyr will temporarily sign away it's independence and become one of the Republics of Dyelli Beybi. There will be a two month period of grace in which we organise a referendum for the people of Neo Tyr as to whether they want to become a Republic and sign up with the United Republics. My guess is they will vote 'no', which is good for both of us. Obviously you don't want to loose your independence or your position as head of State, and I don't want foreigners controling the United Republic's Parliament, which you would. Everything would go back to normal, but in those intervening months, as a part of Dyelli Beybi, you'd be able to evict all the other Klatchians and funnel Federation money into the reconstruction of Kyrall."

Office of the Junior First Minister, Arn-Maciska

Once again the Junior First Minister, currently acting Deputy, lowered a report onto his desk slowly.
"Lucky Klatch," he said.
"Indeed," the woman on the other side of his desk, the External Affairs Minister, replied. "For them, poor President Bacchus couldn't have been assassinated at a better time."
"I suppose this news puts poor Neo-Tyr behind the crosswords again..."
The other snorted. "Neo-Tyr didn't even make the Imperial Star, Arn-Maciska Times, or Maciska Herald, and all the news channels dropped it completely."
The third person in the room sighed.
"Terrible tragedy, but in a way it's a blessing... and a curse."
"How so, Lord deSoto?"
"A blessing, in that no-one will scream about Klatch right now, so we can pull out quietly, a curse in that this gives the isolationists exactly what they want; an excuse to pull away, as fast as they can."
Alagarros nodded gloomily. It was true; the isolationists would soon hold the balance of power in the Parliament, and it was likely the Empire would quietly slip away from the world stage.
There was the sort of silence created by people sitting and thinking gloomy thoughts.
Lord deSoto stood. "I really should be getting back to the office... there's some calls I need to make."
Valdir looked at him. "Advancing the schedule?"
"Yes. MCR will pull out of Neo-Tyr within a week. Completely. Totally. And once we're done with that poor kid over in A-Mac Imperial, you know, the Germanian, that's it for MCR international operations outside the Embassy ring."
Valdir nodded. "Sad, but true. How is the young man doing?"
"40% complete in the ocular, 80 on the aural. The doctors say that they'll be able to give him better sight, better hearing, than he's ever had in his life. A 30% boost in aural and twice that in visual I think was the estimate. He's going to have the fastest eyes and sharpest ears in the North Germanian military."
Alagrarros permitted himself a smile. "We do take pride in what we do... however little it may be."
The others nodded, then Lord deSoto swept from the room.

"What about this collapse of Kyrall?" Valdir asked.
The Junior First Minister considered.
"It's in God's hands now," he answered. "Unless you've figured out a way to pull several million people out of a collapsing city without a single casualty."
"Unfortunately, no."
The Duke stood and crossed to the drinks cabinet on one side of his office.
"Drink?"
"Please."
The Duke poured out two glasses of Scotch single-malt whiskey (generously aged, of course) and handed one to the External Affairs Minister.
"What happened Justina?"
"To what Stepan?"
The Duke held his whiskey up and studied the light through it.
"I remember, when Saniril and Dettaine took us out into the world, it was turbulent, chaotic, yes, and a lot of bad things happened, but a lot of good people were there. This thing that Midlonia is doing; once that would have caused international outcry. Thousands would have demonstrated in hundreds of capitals around the world demanding that something be done, and now? No-one cares. Not even us."
"The world is sick Stepan. It manifests itself three ways; as a vile corruption, a total disrespect for all others, which seems to be infecting Klatch, a violent anger, like what is tearing Rotovia apart, or in the sheer apathy that is spreading like a cancer."
"How much longer can we go on like this Justina?" The Duke suddenly looked very old, as he turned to look out over Arn-Maciska.
"Like what?" she asked as she moved to stand next to him.
"Like we give a damn?"
Valdir sighed. It was the sigh of a very weary person, who has had the conversation before, and is now hearing it yet again.
"We will not mourn Neo-Tyr, Stepan. We have no more tears to shed."
The two stood in silence, staring out over the city.

Elizabeth looked down and appologized, "Sorry General...force of habit I guess." As several JDF members appeared in the ruins of the right hand bell tower she stood and helped him to his feet.

Victoria walked up kicking a chair out of her way as she did so. "Well, that was intresting. Who did you think they wanted dead, you, me or the General?" She asked her sister.

"I don't know but I'd prefer to be someplace with a lot less sight lines right now...."

A JDf Officer with a Benjian accent interupted,
"General, Landgravine, Major...we've set up a temporary command post in the kitchen."

"Elizabeth would you be so good as to take command of investigating the mess up there..." The younger sister just smiled, nodded and grabbed a rifle from a startled guard. By now a medic was buisily treating and sedating the wounded AOS agent.

A few minutes later the Landgravine and O'Booze were all standing in a large industrial style kitchen around a large, scarred oak table. A handheld radio sat blaring out snipits of conversation.
Rye Stack One this is Rye stack command have you found Haart?
Negative Rye Stack command we have searched the garden again. If he is here he is dead, no sign of jumping the wall either....

[i]Rye Stack Command, this is Rye Stack Four, we have secured the blower room, no apparent entry or exit.

Rye Stack Command, this is Alcona Four...we dropped some lights down the airshaft. Check blueprints we have an unidentified acess hatch 30 feet down.

Alcona Four we have no indications or intel on that...

Rye Stack Command, Alcona Four and Rye Stack Six will decend to the door and investigate...

Alcona Four we strongly advise you to not investigate at this time...

Rye Stack Command, Alcona Four advises you to f*** off...

Now here me Major...

I am not in the JDF so bite me...Rye Stack Command we are at the doorway. There is an apparent room beyond. No I.R. sigs at this time...

static....static....

Rye Stack Command we have an apparent engineering space. I can identify a motor of some type attached to what appears to be a three chamber standing pump system, big ones to...Please Advise...

Several chefs were standing around. "Ah could you whip up some clam and shrimp gumbo with a side of your lovely twice baked potato for myself..." She indicated to O'Booze that he should make an order.

She then looked at O'Booze "Why would a country club on a spring fed lake have a large heavy duty pump system?"

Screams, screams that were inhuman...unbeleviable screams. The Marines and civilians near the docklands heard them as they saw parts of the Neo Tyr skyline simly dissappear, there one minute gone the next.

The shouting, jostling and the occasional firing off a heavy weapon petered out as everyone's gazes were turned toward the city. People stared in disconnected awe and horror as the city literally gave way before them. They knew they were safe, there was no screams or rumblings, the under-city didn't reach down to the sea for obvious reasons.

A few Marines looked on noncholantly from the turrets of their ST-21's and M1A3's that were blocking the gates to the docks. Soldiers holding makeshift barriers listened intently over their command net as they were ordered back. Something was amiss.

The Senior Officer of the formation guarding the dock gates had witnessed the people's expressions. Having lost a number of Marines to the insurgents he watched Kyrall collapse without a thought. The thought suddenly dawned on him that the large crowd here was safe, and they would either try harder to kill his men or silently move off. To be sure he pulled his men back and quietly trained all the tank Machine Guns on the crowd, ready for a reaction.

-COH-

O'Booze shook his head, "I'll give dinner a miss for now."

He was considering the pump, "Now what we know is there is a heavy duty pump, for moving something there isn't an existing supply of, to this area. If there is already an existing supply of water, the question should be, 'what are they pumping in here?'"

"That assassination attempt from the tower was a poor, poor attempt, why use an SMG? Surely it would have been better to use something that is accurate at ranges? Probably something with a telescopic sight, or alternatively something that could lay down enough fire to be sure the target didn't get up again. Someone who's organised a once in a lifetime opportunity like that isn't going to blow it by using a badly chosen weapon, in my opinion either they didn't mean to hit anyone, or the worst is still to come. If this was Dyelli Brybi I would reccomend all potential targets were evacuated from the vicinity of the building, and all troops doing a sweep for the assassins be issued with NBC gear, that pump is fishy."

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

In Kyrall an officer in a Black uniform with a white cap had made his way through the crowd, he was flanked by a pair of slightly concerned looking sailors carrying shotguns. He stopped in front of the barrier errected by the Hirgizstanis, "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded in that almost Irish accent that Dyelli Beybians had.

"We're trying to organise an evacuation, and you're obstructing the way... and before you ask, yes we're Klatchians."

It was fairly obvious anyway, the Carrier the officer had come from was flying the Federation flag as well as the Dyelli Beybian one. It was also fairly obvious it was a Dyelli Beybian ship - it had a monstrous Pagoda mast which made the superstructure look like it extended several more decks than it did.

The collapse headed outwards. As if the circles of carnage in Kyrall were growing larger buildings, vehicles, and people slipped into the abyss. The hole was growing larger and large, consuming the capital of the principality in a symphony of death and flame. Thousands died in seconds. Five minuets until it ended. The longest five minuets in Neo Tyrinan history.

The crowd near the Hirgizstan position stopped for a moment, then started to whisper amongst themselves. There was a building pressure around them. Hirgizstan needed to quell them, but a violent way would only incite the mass even more so.

The crowd near the Lord Fisher had a strong police presence. Hero of the people Edward Birmingham (Police officer who had led raids which single handedly cracked the Bloodlines Sydinacte, a drug smuggling group that could have rivaled the Tong) was there to keep order and peace. His presence eased the people and they though for a few blissful moments they thought they would be safe. Then the undercity started to fall more, causing the group to move to the vessel peacefully, if uneasily.

---

In this historian's perspective, the recent movie produced by Alcona was historically inaccurate. It is biased and startlingly... wrong (The busty, seductress of a princess of Neo Tyr personally appalls me). So I will continue to produce my reports with the truth in mind, and not in the mind of the silly pop culture. Now where was I... Oh yes, I remember now.

Haart had absolutely no idea what was going on. It was the ultimate 'wrong place at the wrong time'. In retrospect he learned he was not being kidnapped, as his first assumption, but was most likely to be used as a tool by terrorists. Terrorists! Haart himself didn't shoot a single bullet, he was rather surprised the group opened fire. However, the thing that angered him the most is that these terrorists had no respect to the nobility. He'd teach the, some respect. Haart waited until the man was a bit in front of him before swinging it like a club at the man's neck. The masked man fell down, currently knocked out by the tremendous blow. Weather or not there was serious spine damage was as yet unknown. "And stay down, terrorist," Haart said with disgust and started to backtrack.

He knew the way well enough. Whenever he saw the black men he'd either slink past them or quickly open fire, killing them before they could act. Fortunately, resistance was rather light. He returned to the garden he was at before. The noble tossed his machinegun aside and paced around with a confused look on his face. It was all coming together, but he knew to survive he'd have some hell of explaining to do. But that was all right. He was a politician along with a noble and admiral. Talking his way out of things is what he did. He started to look for a guard to demand what was going on around here.

((I'm a little confused. Are the alconian troops blocking Haart's path? If so, I'll edit my post.))

---

Above Neo Tyr, Kajar silently watched the city that for seven years he had patrolled and watch over be reduced to nothing but dust. Young, being rather young (No pun intended), had his head in his hands, wishing that if he didn't watch it'd all go away. Kajar looked for the nearest high-ranking officer he could find, trying to ask where they were going now that Kyrall was in flames.

Elsewhere, Lance Vassal was starting to get nervous. He was captured once before, and he assumed these seals wern't going to be as kind about it as the Dyeillans were.

---

Marimeta bit her lip. "That sounds risky. It sounds like the bast plan we have current moment, but don't you think your... countrymen try to stop you? It seems like they want a chunk of Neo Tyr, God knows why, but I doubt they'll leave it without a fight, whether it be a literal one or a fight of politics.

However, to pull off a successful transfer of something as big of a loss of sovergnity, we'd need all the help we could get. That means a return of Damian Haart, Lance Vassal, and Robert Lorie. Mr. Dawson over there," She said gesturing off screen to the Rose agent, "Has informed me of rumors that Midlonia is starting to take slaves and they have a Seabrook lawman. If that were true, we'd need them back. Or else House Seabrook would have a fit along with House Trisken. It would be hard, you're not abhorred as much as the other outlanders, but you're definitely not very popular amongst the people."

ooc
this is going to be REALLY noticable. A collapse this big will register on seismic equipment world wide. The dust plume will also be very noticable from space.

IC
In New Shiron, intelligence analysists looked over the reports coming in. The data was funneled to the decision makers above them.

The situation in Neo Tyr was moving beyond embarrassment to genocide.

Message to the Commander, Klatchian Expeditionary Forces Neo Tyr
From government of New Shiron

The destruction of Kyrall is an appalling tragedy and disaster and will be viewed as a war crime by many nations. It is urgent that steps be taken to prevent another situation like this and highly desirable that those responsible be tried before a court for war crimes. Otherwise, outsiders may choose to intervene in this matter, making the situation even worse.

You are watching MNB News

"...had been taken into consideration.

The Klatch have committed a grievous crime against humanity today, being directly responsible for the destruction of the city of Kyrall in Neo-Tyr. Estimates by the Macisikani Red Cross place the death toll at fifty thousand, a number which is rising exponentially as the city continues to settle.

With us now is Dr. Hopkins of Macisikani National University's Engineering faculty. Dr. Hopkins, could you explain to our viewers exactly what caused the destruction of Kyrall?"

"Certainly Lucy. As you can see-"

The TV switched off.
"So, the Klatch aren't so lucky after all." Acting First Minister Anton de la Valdar mused.
"It seems not. So much for apathy." the Junior First Minister replied with a snort.
"Oh, it gets better Stepan. Have you been to the Imperial Square in the past hour?"
"No Anton.. why? Bunch of students protesting?"
There was silence.
"Damn. How many?"
"About two thousand students, teachers and various others, and the crowd is swelling by the minute. They're demanding that we do something, even if it is just tell the Klatchians off..."
"Great. Just what we need; to get caught up with Klatch when Rotovia is tearing itself apart."
"It gets better. Aldir is down there, on his soapbox."
"Good grief..." Bishop Serpens Aldir, the rather odious former Minister for External Affairs, now Opposition Leader, was a minor, but vocal, player in Imperial politics.
"What does the snake want?"
de la Valdar looked gloomy. "He wants us to complain to the CFA."
"The Coalition Forces Alliance? ViZion's anti-genocide group?"
"The very same. Aldir wants us to scream blue murder to them."
"So what are we going to do?"
"I rang the hospital. Asked Elgiva-" the First Minister, currently on maternity leave "- and the doctors nearly shot me, but..."
"What did she say?"
"She told me we have the usual six options. One do nothing, two issue a statement deploring the scene, three launch an official protest, four cut off aid, five break off diplomatic relations and six declare war."
"So which should we do?
"I asked her that too. She said that if we do nothing we implicitly agree with the Klatch's actions, if we issue a statement we just look foolish, if we lodge a protest it will be ignored. We can't cut off aid because we don't give them any, if we break off diplomatic relations we can't negotiate that non-aggression pact you've been throwing around. Oh, and if we declare war we'll end up in the same boat as Neo-Tyr."
"Happy day. So, which one will it be?"
"I don't mind looking foolish; it's better than looking the other way. And I don't mind being ignored. We could lodge a protest, but it'll need careful wording to make sure it doesn't provoke those butchers into attacking us."
"I'll have Valdir's boys work on it. We'll send it to Alcona and Hubris; they seem reasonable people, and should be able to make it look not so bad to the rest..."
"You do that. And I'll go and placate those kids outside..."
The two men left the office.

OOC: First the movie was made by someone sixty years after all of this Neo Tyr. Very likely not Alconians, they would have never stomached the implied romance between O'Booze and Elizabeth Crawford. (And it was Victoria Crawford in the scene who is not a princess of Neo-Tyr)

Second, since Haart hasn't met either Elizabeth Crawford or O'Booze, He would have no clue who they are or that they were nobility. (Actually it would look more like someone trying to shoot a D.B. military officer and Checka agent, although Elizabeth is a bit tall)

Anyway...Haart could be trying to get away from the person in black but he just wouldn't have had an oportunity yet. Haart has been in narrow passages and the dark since the shooting incident. And trying to club someone in a dark three foot by three foot passage is a bit difficult, or while staggering around in a dark, equipment filled room. That and Haart have to walk back into a wall of Joint Defense Forces (A mix of Klatchians) with ichy trigger fingers and their return fire. Not to mention a locked gate. (If he did attempt to walk back, he would be heading to a hospital with several 9mm wounds in him)

However lets assume that he does try to escape the terrorist at the nearest opportunity:

IC:
As Haart was moved along the dark tunnel on his hands and knees he could hear rushing water like a river up ahead As he neared the sound, he was pushed from behind. Haart would have fallen for a short distance into a rubber raft. The Neo Tyrian could likely feel the water rushing under the bottom and occasionaly spraying over the side.

A moment later a green chemical glow lit up the long, water filled tunnel. The figure in black was standing with her back to him. (Now Harrt has his opportunity to do some butt stroking). As the figure fell down unconious, the raft began to move downstream. The opening back to the pump room in the rock cut cealing fell behind. The only features now were iron brackets set into the cealing.

OOC: My best fix for this at the moment, Haart takes the first opportunity to free himself of the terrorist. Of course that leaves him at the mercy of the Northwell Acquaduct. Note: Ropes, two short poles with metal hooks on the ends and two black bags are all the contents of the raft...well besides the now drowning 'terrorist'. Also the current is very strong and fast.

IC:The Kitchen
Victoria nodded. "True, but that pump room appears to be in what should have been an unexavated space...."

She picked up the radio, "This is the landgravine, is the pump running?"

...No, nothing is running down here...

"Please keep us advised....out"

She returned to O'booze. "Now general I agree with you on everything but here are a few aditional details to consider. First, that SMG would have likely killed both you and E if that table did not have an armored top. Second, they may have intentionally used a submachine gun because that is what the guards have here, allowing them to get the weapon in close. Third, the pump is not currenlty running, something I assumed from E's report over the radio, but then I know what she did not say."

Victoria grimiced, "Growing up with someone gives you that ability...Now then, where was I, Oh yes if this attack was a deversionary tactic it might be to evacuate us back to the city. Through open, unsecured countryside."
She emphizised those points. "We would have to go back via helo since the roads are likely jammed with limo's and their panicked occupants who were dining here, a nice juicy target for a shoulder launched stinger. As for trying to posion us with gas, why do you think we are in the kitchen? Because it has the greatest air turnover of any room, and actually has a seperate air handling system than the rest of the club to prevent undesirable food oders. I've been using the club as my personal hideaway for the past six months and have done a bit of contingency planning. And I would prefer not to be out in the open where a sniper or someone with a mortar could do me in. I am also a bit curious where Lord Haart got off to."

The Officer in charge of the Tanks guarding the dock gate, a Captain, jumped up out of his turret and onto the roof of his tank, he ignored the Dyelli Beybians for now, the crowd was a more pressing matter, he needed to quell them for another few hours to get equipment loaded onto the ships and Landing Craft further down the coast.

He unholstered an old M1911A1 and fired into the air. The crowd were taken a back and they turned, as whispers began to grow into chatter. They were frightened, they were full of adrenalin, after all they're damm city had collapsed on them. The Officer fired again into the air, sick of the noise.

He slowly unclipped a megaphone and held it out, putting the smaller mouthpiece, attached by a curled wire, to his mouth.

"Citizens of Neo Tyr, your city has suffered structural damage and has collapsed into the Under City, we tried to prevent this but an accident at a Klatchian checkpoint brought about a faster collapse, there was nothing we or you could have done."

The Officer was silent as they took it in, some edgy when they noticed the turrets were trained on them. The Hirgizstanians were hated...but ordinary citizens, who most of these were, were only scared. Some shouts came from the crowds directed at the Hirgizstanians, the Captain could see men with weapons loosely gripped, their expressions were shocked, and confused, he knew if their grip tighetened he would simply take one step back into the turret and the rest was inevitable. The Dyelli Beybians looked a little bemused...and a little pissed off at being ignored, but the fact was they were all in danger if this crowd got anrgy.

The Captain spoke again and the people quieted down,

"Our troops and those of the Klatch will assist you in any way we can while we sort out our affairs in Kyrall. Your own Authorities will have information on where you can go but we suggest you stay on roads where the Under City was not built to avoid more deaths. If you allow my men and my countrymen to finish their work peacefully then we will provide you with emergency supplies, blankets and medical assistance. You must remain calm though. Trucks are being brought in to shore as i speak with these materials. I implore that you do not get angry, the last thing we want or need is more bloodshed, mourn for your loved ones and care for your wounded, i assure you that help will be forthcoming."

The Captain eyed the crowd before signalling to the Dyelli Beybians to come around behind the line of tanks. The did so and the Captain hopped off his tank, following the three men.

They stopped behind the Captain's ST-21 and the Captain saluted. The mean looked rather annoyed and the Captain said "Now, your Dyelli Beybians, what can the Commonwealth of Hirgizstan Marine Corps do for you?"

-COH-

The Dyellian officer was an 'Oberleutnant zur See' which made him slightly outranked, although he wasn't acting like he was, "You can start by opening the road onto the docks, we're trying to stage an evacuation. It's slightly difficult when the evacuees can't get through."

His tone wasn't offensive, but it was clear he wasn't happy about the situation. He had a walkie talkie in his right hand and was talking on and off to someone in an odd language that sounded a little bit like Russian... but wasn't.

In fact he was relaying information to a Commisaar onboard the Adolf Eichmann, who was likewise relaying information to Benjia house where it was being sent out to Cheka offices all across Klatch and Neo Tyr.

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

O'Booze shrugged, "I don't know much about this club I'm just guessing, even so this whole situation is fishy. Now what we need to do now is identify likely ambush sites for people fleeing this site and possible escape routes for our assassin friend. It is unlikely that we'll catch up with them, as I assume the JDF will be checking for booby traps as they follow, so we'll need to try to head them off."

He grimaced as his communications device bleeped, "Anyway this whole business is getting us away from the topic at hand. What to do about Neo Tyr."

He read the message from Benjia house and gave a short laugh, "Our good and noble allies from Hirgizstan made a speech in Kyrall about two minutes ago blaming he collapse of the city on 'an accident at a Klatchian checkpoint', also there have been Protests in Macisikan. Oh, and just to make things better, the Neo Tyran's are well aware Midlonia has been enslaving their population. Looks like a right mess doesn't it?"

"The old rat Dzerzhinsky has come up with a plan to solve it which he wants me to get your approval on. You're probably not going to like it..."

Over the next few minutes, O'Booze explained 'the old rat's' plan to temporarily assimilate Neo Tyr into Dyelli Beybi to force less desirable factions to pull out, or to at least behave themselves, while at the same time giving the central Klatchian Government the ability to prosecute war criminals and thus demonstrate to the International community the fact that the Federation wasn't the diplomatic equivalent of an enraged bull elephant, but was a trustworthy Nation. He took pains to point out that alienation from the International Community could lead to loss of trade as well as to point out exactly how undesirably a permanent union with Neo Tyr would be to Dyelli Beybi. Neo Tyr would effectrively control Parliament.

"I know you don't trust us Southerners." O'Booze concluded, "But we don't want another war, which this is going to lead to if things continue the way they're going."

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

Back in the skies near Kyrall, the seaplanes had stopped climbing, and were now flying at altitude towards Easterling. None of the men or women around Kajar seemed to have any idea where they were going. Some though Cyro, some thought Easterling, while one kept insisting they were headed for Saint Guineford's. With the fasten seatbelts sign off, Baldwin had left her seat to find the Neo Tyrans. The plane was a little overcrowded, and the pair had been seated where the stewards would be in a comercial flight.

"We're going to Easterling." Baldwin announced, "Where we'll reassess the situation."

There were no spair seats, so she sat down in the aisle, next to Kajar, "I'm in your debt. You saved my life out there...twice. I came to say thank you, and to see if you needed anything."

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

Not too far away, and also heading straight toward Easterling was the Cheka's spy plane, "We're going to try to get Vassal back, but it will be difficult, the Vrakians can be truculent, as for freeing the folk from Midlonia, the easiest way of doing that would be to make then citizens of Klatch, then they'd be legally forced to release them."

"General O'Booze is negotiating with the Alconians, if we can get their approval for this plan we will carry it through, otherwise there will be a fight, whether political or military would depend upon just how insulted the other Klatchian States are by our actions."

The mention of slavery had caused a stir on the plane. Unknown to the Neo Tyrans every one of the Dyellians onboard was a former slave, although the increase in tension was easily detected. It was the way the political cooky had crumbled during the Revolution, the people who had been on the bottom of the pile were now on top, while those at the top were six feet under the ground or in the belly of a crocodile.

"I think we were hoping that the Princess' extraction from Kyrall would help to illustrate our good intetions." Dashwood volunteered.

You are watching MNB International News

"Good evening.

Today the Red Cross confirmed to the Macisikani Newsmedia Association that reports picked up by the MNA regarding the conduct of the Klatch in Neo-Tyr were indeed true accurate.

The reports detail a number of atrocities, including the deliberate targeting of civilians by Klatchian troops, and, more disturbing, enslavement.

Eyewitness reports from returning MCR personnel have been leaked to this network. The reports state that Klatchian troops have been rounding up Tyrnian citizens and deporting them back to Klatch to be used in "labour camps".

These developments have further damaged Klatch's already shaky reputation in the Parliament. Opposition Leader Serpens Aldir has called on the government to lead an international protest, before moving to censure Klatch on the matter; the motion is currently being debated in Parliament.

Student Protests have broken out in Arn-Maciska, Aldet, and Vas-Intan. Greg, what's the story?"

[camera cuts to a picture of a large square; it's filled with people ranging from pensioners to university students, representing a cross-section of society. They are all very angry, shouting "Shame, Klatch, shame!"]

As you can see Angela, there is a massive crowd here in the Imperial Square in Arn-Maciska. They are demanding that we lodge a diplomatic protest with the Klatch, and call upon "decent" nations, such as ViZion, to lodge similar protests."

"What are the effects of the MCR reports on the protests?"

The crowd has more than doubled in size; you cannot see it from here, but police are estimating that the crowd now numbers at least ten thousand, and is growing by the hundred every minute. Similar crowds have gathered in Aldet and Vas-Intan.

"Has there been any violence?"

No Angela, the crowds have been very well behaved, except for breaking the noise pollution controls. The Student Unions have been distributing water and aiding the police in keeping an eye on the crowds, so it's highly unlikely that we'll see any violence.

"Thank you Greg."

[cut back to the anchor]

"While most government ministries have been unavailable for comment, sources inside the government have indicated that an official protest may be lodged, and that further diplomatic action is being considered..."

[the anchor pauses and puts a finger to her ear]

"We've just been told that protests have broken out in Arn-Macisaan, Alaad, and Valden; each crowd has an estimated eight thousand people.

"The situation in Rotovia has taken a worrying turn..."

It was as if Hell itself was coming out in force to claim Kyrall. Smoke and dust billowed forth from the pit where once stood proud buildings, historical sites, cultural museums and theaters and the largest fountain on the planet Earth. But it was gone now. All gone. Nowadays, the old ones say that if you looked at the horizon from Easterling or Andorhol the rad sunset was stained a pitch black. Causalities were mounting up, the estimate at the time was a meager 2 million, but that was the very optimistic outlook. Kyrall was huge, and with only two measly hours to escape huge casualties were to be expected.

---

((OOC: I'm making a little change with Haart, here...))

Lord Damian Haart, Admiral of Her Majesty’s Second Fleet, Speaker of the Neo Tyrinian Parliament and House Father of Great House Haart was going to knock out the woman who was standing in front of him, but decided not to. Mainly because he was on raft with no real idea where he was. Besides, there could be terrorists all around. No. It was better to stay alive, at least for now. Damn, he knew he shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning...

---

On the plane, Marimeta felt a bit uneasy as well. Slavery was very much legal in Neo Tyr. Big controversial issue which was a large political division. While House Seabrook was a loud voice of abolition and House Vassal gave a silent nod against slavery by dismissing all of their slaves and ordering their oathmen to do otherwise, House Haart always vouched for slavery while trying to break the tight restrictions regarding it and House Hemlock had always kept an abnormally large amount of slaves. But this is for another time. Marimeta looked to Dashwood. "I am very grateful you were able to get me out of the city. However, many people will lose, in many cases, essentially everything. Those in Kyrall most likely won't trust anyone even remotely affiliated with the Klatch, however benign their interests."

On the other side Dart furrowed his brow. So the girl was smuggled out. That explains her clothing. Leave it to a Llamanian to sneak out instead of leaving honorably. But what the hell is happening in Kyrall... He thought to himself.

On the plane, Marimeta nodded. "Vassal is very important to the people. It'd be a terrible blow to the people if he were to die. The people in Midlonia are also important to get out. If they cant get out quickly, House Seabrook will wipe away any credibility Midlonia might have in Neo Tyr. Which would be very bad for diplomatic relations that we might have in the future with he FKC."

---

On a different plane, Kajar gave a small smile to Baldwin. "No, no. You got me on this plane out. I think we're even..." He said, his voice trailing off.

"Actually, are there any fizzy drinks on this plane? I'm not feeling very good..." He muttered. Poor Ross Kajar suffered from airsickness, which was manifesting itself slowly on the plane.

---

It was a quiet evening in Cabaret. Third largest city in Neo Tyr, soon to be second. Very little news on Kyrall had reached there. Most citizens were concerned on their daily lives. One, however, was sitting in a penthouse in a skyscraper, while his mistress walked over to him. "There a problem, Ricky dear?" She asked him.

The man, Richard Solstice, Marimeta's guardian and essentially the monarch at the time shook his head. "I hear Kyrall is going to fall."

His mistress gasped in false astonishment. "Oh no," she said very insincerely, "Those poor people."

"Terrible tragedy. And now they're literally poor."

Richards’s mistress gave a wicked smile. "While we get richer?"

Richard gave a shrug and poured himself some bourbon. "It's the way of the world, Sandra darling. My little occupation didn't go as well as planned."

The mistress nodded. "What of the girl?"

"Which any luck, Marimeta is very dead. Couldn't of happened at a more convenient moment. I'm distraught of course." He said with a dark grin.

"Oh, I'm sure you are, Ricky," she replied. "Now why don't you come to bed..." She said seductively, but Richard waved her off.

"Not now. I can't sleep. Why don't you head to sleep and I'll catch up later."

"Alright..." The mistress said with an air of disappointment, "I'll see you later..."

"Right," Richard said watching the sunset, "Later...” He stood silently for a moment, and when he heard the woman leave he swore loudly and whipped his glass of bourbon on the floor, shattering the glass into thousands of crystalline shards. Shards of a glass in the shards of a nation.

OOC: Please just assume that Vrak will give permission to any and all Klatchian and allied forces regarding use of facilities, etc... regarding Neo Tyr.

IC:

The collapse, of course, was expected after the engineer made his report after consulting with the Under city staff. Ironicall, the hapless Vrakian engineer who made the report was lost, along with roughly half of the Vrakian troops and equipment. It was not really due to incompetance, but rather because of trying to find an exit route within an unfamiliar city amid insurgents making final desperate attacks and with the general state of the city before the collapse.

Still, although the Vrakian military suffered a huge loss, they were, for the most part, reserve forces. The regular troops managed to get out a bit quicker having been more familiar with the city. The amphibious ships were full with mostly Vrakian troops but some allied forces and even some Tyrinians were evacuated as well. The Tyrinians were off-loaded onto the nearest island along with some provisions. From Vrak itself, a relief effort was being organized to help some of the Tyrinians that they managed to rescue while a team was sent to assess the now doomed city of Kyrall.

Destiny's Fist

The chopper landed upon the flight deck and Vassal was escorted out. Fleet Admiral Kilamo, dressed in full uniform, stood. His brown eyes peered at Vassal and with a hand motion ordered the cuffs to be removed after a quick body search. The admiral was a short fellow (5'10") by Vrakian standards and certainly much smaller than his deceased brother "Bear" Killamo.

"Lord Vassal," began the Admiral,"Welcome aboard my flagship. It seems that the JDF have issued a warrant for your arrest."

Lance Vassal furrowed his brow. He didn't know what the JDF was, but it certainly didn't sound very good. "I thank you for your welcome," Vassal said loudly, trying to exert his voice over the cold, bitter winds, "But may I ask why I have an arrest warrent. I don't recolect commiting any crime towards your forces."

((OOC: Fine, I'll edit my previous post to straiten it out a bit…)

The figure turned and sat down in the raft letting it flow with the stream. She took off her mask, revealing a femine face with short blond hair and brown eyes. "Sorry about that Lord Haart, but the opportunity to knock off a bloody member of the Crawford clan was too good an opportunity to mess up. Knock off the little tyrants while their young…" She looked at the nobleman in his uniform and threw him a bag.
"I think you might want to put this on." She threw a black bag over to him. "You wouldn't want to get shot by a sentry…hell we even sew a little Neo Tyr flag on it so if your captured again the bastards can't hang you."

*******
The radio interrupted O'Booze for a second but the Landgravine turned down the volume. As he finished, Elizabeth, covered in dirt and wet came into the kitchen. "Damn it…I've been trying to get you on the radio. That pump is connected to some sort of aqueduct. No sign of our assassins or Lord Haart either."

Victoria looked at Elizabeth for a second, then chuckled. "Well General we have our explanation about the pump and why it was hidden. An illegal tap on one of the cities Aqueducts…the original legislation for them stated that all connections had to be to at the distribution center at the end and public water was a priority. Of course the local potentates disregarded the law…." She turned and took the radio for a moment and instructed a full lock down on all access points to the aqueduct and an immediate search.

"Now then General back to your points. I think that you 'absorbing' Neo Tyr would be imprudent at best. However we might give Deylli Beybi full administrative control of the Federal Territory of Neo Tyr, of course it would be then your responsibility to administer and rebuild Neo-Tyr as the Inner Consul"
She stopped and looked at her now empty bowl.
"Now, then I think it would be best if you didn't use standard Deyllian Forces, they do have a habit of getting out of line at the wrong possible moment. I think that the AOS and a few of your Checka would be far more prudent choice for administration. I think the Alconian Navy will still provide for external security, after all you needed massive grants to help pay for this Klatchian Guard business. We don't need to put a strain on your State's budget that is absolutely needed. And someone from New Shiron should administer POWs. They have been quite critical of this mess, but I'd prefer to direct my future niece to be constructive rather than just critical. What do you think of my alternative plan?"

OOC: Vrak, what is happening with the King/Duke meeting?

OOC: Vrak, what is happening with the King/Duke meeting?

OOC: I dunno. Telegram me and we can work some stuff out first.

"That Klatchian Guard business is being paid for by Ilek Vaad, and I might add, the Arms manufacturers in Dyelli Beybi are very happy about it. We've just given them a useless bit of land and told them to do what they like on it, so long as everything they buy comes off us."

O'Booze seemed quite proud of this little scheme, "I'll admit, the regular troops can get a little unruly at times."

That was an understatement, there was probably no FKC state with such a long record of friendly fire incidents, "However there simply aren't enough AOS officers in Dyelli Beybi to take over from a full military garrison. I'd normally suggest dropping some of the Met in to do Garrison work."

The Dyelli Beybian Metropolitan Police. Inside Dyelli Beybi they were respected as being efficient and hard to bribe, "We had some 500 Met officers in Kyrall, I think they all evacuated, they hadn't deployed beyond the docks when the whole place collapsed."

"anyway, where was I? Yes, I don't think Felix really cares what happens so long as we have the authority to boot out those damned meddling Northern hillbillies, as well as to repatriate the Neo Tyran citizens they've deported. Apparently they've take away some influencial citizens, and hence the population and remaining leadership aren't feeling too happy or positively inclinded towards even Dyelli Beybi."

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

Back in the air, somewhere bewtween Easterling and Kyrall, a Commisaar answering to the name of Alexia Baldwin smiled, "Actually Mr Kajar, you shot that fellow with the metal bar, and you got me to the docks, so in reality you're still two - one up."

She stood up, taking a moment to smooth her skirts, "I'll see what I can do about a drink."

She vanished behind a curtain into what was certainly supposed to be where the cabin crew stored meals. While she was invisible, her voice still drifted through from time to time, "Sure you don't want a pistol or a smoke grenade? We seem to have quite a few of those.... what's this? OK I'm not even going to mention what I just found, people should keep that kind of business strictly private. Ahah... no wait, I thought we weren't supposed to have alcohol? Since it isn't allowed I'm sure the owner won't mind me taking some."

She gave a slightly embarresed cough when she returned to Kajar, "I'm sorry to say we just have bottled water and this stuff."

She held up a can of something labelled 'Helmut Cola'. Ostensibly it was a cola, although most cola's weren't 87% alcohol (v/v). She gave Kajar a concerned look, "You don't look all that great, if you don't mind me saying. Is there something wrong?"

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

On the other plane, Dashwood had fallen silent again, leaving it over to her senior to speak, "Rest assured we're doing everything in our power to restore all members of the nobility to you, which is why Mr. Dart is here with me now."

"For now I recommend you head to Easterling and settle in as best you can. Once there, there will be no need to keep a low profile. We're not going to let anyone lift you from there without a fight. You are naturally free to come and go as you please, but I would recommend you stay in Easterling. We cannot guarantee your safety outside the city. Generalmajor Robert Cooper is the Commander of the Garrison."

OOC: Hmm am I correct in reading from the Klatchian Guard thread that most of your tanks and armored vehicles are nothing to write home about...Or is that just the horrors of earlier shotty workmanship coming to haunt you?

The Captain smiled at the Dyellians, his reply was simple, "We can't move. The Hirgizstanian Military is not going to help evacuate insurgents and stirred up civilians, and we sure as hell aren't going to let them run into the loading area behind me. I understand your concern but this dock at this time is open only to Klatchian military personnell, no civilians. The people in front will be given aid as soon as it arrives, i implore you not to stir them up, we don't want any trouble here. As soon as the dock is clear we'll let them in. Is there anything further i can help you with?"

-COH-

OOC: Thank you DB. I was drinking when I read your post. Tea hurts when laughed through the nose (but still funny).

IC:
To: Alcona and Hubris
From: Ministry of External Affairs
Subject: Diplomatic Protest

His Imperial Majesty's Government is of the opinion that your nation is, well, more restrained than others in Klatch. We have therefore chosen to send this to you, as we are sure that you will understand the sentiment in which it is written; not hostile, but very concerned.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Lady Justina Valdir, Minister for External Affairs

[attachment: Official Protest]
"His Imperial Majesty's Government must formally protest at the conduct of the Klatchian military forces occupying Neo-Tyr, especially in the area of Kyrall. We are shocked and appalled at the conduct of the Klatchian troops, and we hold them responsible for the terrible tragedy that has shaken Neo-Tyr and been felt across the globe.

We must respectfully request that the Klatch make strenuous efforts to any further such disasters in the future.

-MinExAff"

=============

You are watching MNB News

"His Imperial Majesty's Government has officially lodged a protest with the Klatch over the matter in Neo-Tyr, and Junior Minister of External Affairs Baron Mordecai Alscarna has confirmed that his office is seeking to call on other nations to follow suit.

In a press conference less than an hour ago, Baron Alscarna announced that messages had been sent to several other nations calling upon them to condemn Klatch's conduct.

This move comes on the heels of the defeat of a motion of censure against Klatch put forward by Opposition Leader Serpens Aldir, however the Bishop appears to be satisfied with the Government's actions.


It is good to see that the government isn't sitting on its hands, and has listened to the voice of the people.

Baron Alscarana has described the international response as "extremely positive".

crowds of student protesters, which have now swelled beyond sixty thousand in most major cities, broke into celebration at the news, and activists have applauded the government.


This may not seem like a great move to other nations, but for a government as staunchly neutral and non-interventionist as ours, it is a radical action, and deserves to be applauded.


Ms. Coker went on to criticise the Klatchian army, saying that "if they had bothered to spend a bit of money on sensitivity training, this whole crisis could have been avoided".

MNB will be seeking a response from the Klatchian leadership.

Rumours abound that an ultimatum has been issued..."

(OOC) Not really. DBs armoured vehicles are probably slightly above RL standards, they ICly used to be rubbish before O'Booze reformed the army after the revolution. A few of them have breakdown problems due to having multiple engines, but thats only the heavy tanks (the DB main battle tanks are quite fast so as to allow them to outmanouvre an enemy force, the multiple engines was a problem which came with trying to have the heavy tanks keep up with the smaller ones). Ilek Vaad doesn't like them because they're all specialised ie, DB will have in a column, tanks, artillery and AA vehicles, it doesn't have something that does all three, mainly because I oocly think that's a daft idea, a tank with all that funny business on top would take a marked loss in it's performance as a tank.

The little 4x4 the Dyellians are selling thats looks like rubbish, is in reality a modified staff car (which is why there was no armour on the original), DBs smallest front line transport is for 10 troops, so they had to improvise to get a smaller one and avoid losing the contract.

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

"Actually by orders of Klatchian High Command, namely Grossadmiral von Scheer, this dock is now an evacuation area." the Dyellian officer gave the Hirgizstani a knowing look, "We're not interested in taking part in your petty vendetta against the insurgents. We want to get as many people out of here as possible, before it does any more damage to Klatch's international reputation."

The MNB broadcast was noticed with alarm in Dyelli Beybi. It of course didn't help KTV was talking this up as a potential 'war on two fronts'. Eamon Collins, the High Chancellor of Dyelli Beybi, who had been quiet throughout the conflict, chose this as the moment to make a short adress to the media.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the World Media." he bagan.

Collins was a big man, a veritable giant by Dyelli Beybian standards, rumour had it he had been a terrorist leader in Fasta Benj before the Revolution had swept the old system away, "Dyelli Beybi wishes to deny all claims that a protest has been lodged with Klatch over the Kyrall incident. While it is indeed a tragedy, there has been no complaint made to the National Government of Klatch, nor one that has been relayed to the Provincial Government of Dyelli Beybi.

"We take very seriously any allegations of misconduct levelled against Dyelli Beybian forces in Neo Tyr. We suggest that if there is any evidence of war crimes by Dyelli Beybian forces, that they be relayed immediately to the correct authorities. It is a sad day indeed, when supposed International news agencies take so little time to verify their sources."

The last sentence was clearly an attack on MNB, the High Chancellor was not happy with that particular station. If indeed there was a complaint out there it certainly had not been, in his opinion, sent down the right avenues.

To: Klatchian Federal Government
CC: Reuters, Associated Press, Arn-Maciska Times, Guardian Weekly, CNN, New York TImes
BCC: [list blocked]
Subject: Diplomatic Protest at Klatchian Conduct.

His Imperial Majesty's Government must formally protest at the conduct of the Klatchian military forces occupying Neo-Tyr, especially in the area of Kyrall. We are shocked and appalled at the conduct of the Klatchian troops, and we hold them responsible for the terrible tragedy that has shaken Neo-Tyr and been felt across the globe.

We must respectfully request that the Klatch make strenuous efforts to any further such disasters in the future.

-MinExAff

=========

You are watching MNB International News

In response to a statement by the Dyellian High Chancellor, the Ministry of External Affairs has released this document, which has been sent to Alcona and Hubris for that nation to pass on to the Federal Klatchian Government.


"His Imperial Majesty's Government must formally protest at the conduct of the Klatchian military forces occupying Neo-Tyr, especially in the area of Kyrall. We are shocked and appalled at the conduct of the Klatchian troops, and we hold them responsible for the terrible tragedy that has shaken Neo-Tyr and been felt across the globe.

We must respectfully request that the Klatch make strenuous efforts to any further such disasters in the future.

-MinExAff"


The Ministry has announced that it has yet to receive a reply from Alcona and Hubris, and that it is most likely that the government of that nation has yet to relay the protest to the Klatchian parliament. The protest has now also been sent directly to the Klatchian federal government, as well as international news agencies and what the Ministry described as "concerned nations".

The Ministry has also issued a clarifying statement saying that Dyelli Beybi and Alcona and Hubris are not included in the protest; these nations' troops, according to the Ministry, have not engaged in "untoward behaviour".

Baron Alscarna has told this broadcaster that international responses to his Ministry's messages to "concerned nations" are "very positive" and that he expects formal responses to be issued in the near future.

[the anchor pauses, and shuffles the papers on her desk]

This broadcaster would like it to be known to the world that we are not responsible for the actions, or lack thereof, of other nations or their diplomats. We report what we know; if another nation does not know what we have been informed of, then we apologise, but that is not our problem.

Lady Justina Valdir is expected to make a statement this afternoon..."

The MNB anchor had clearly fired a return salvo at the Dyellian High Chancellor. She'd probably get in trouble for it, but only a few minutes earlier the CEO of MNB had stood up in front of everyone in the studio and asked them "Since when do we do other nations' diplomatic and intelligence work for them?"

To: Mackistan Government
From: Outer Ministry, The United Duchies
CC:KKN, CNN, and any other legititamate news sources


We have forwarded your message to the Federal Government in Port Olympus. As such we should inform you that such messages can be directly sent to the Speaker of the Klatchian Parliament or The Office of the Klatchain Privy Council.

His Grace's Government wishes to demonstrate its desire for peaceful coexisistance with the Neo Tyrian people, and have begun to attempt to mitigate the disaster in Neo Tyr. At present His Grace's naval assets in the area have been primarily detailed with the continued saftey of all individuals in Neo Tyr from external forces. As such, they had little available assets present to rescue individuals in the area of Kyrall.

However, supplies and aids for refugees are being prepared and shipped immediatly. And plans for shipping refugee's to some of the secured outer ring of the Neo Tyrian Archiepelgo.

Of course security in Kyrall had been a serious problem. Forcing the withdrawl of both the international media as well as international aid groups. Although the United Duchies can easily supply aid to the survivors, present anti-klatchian sentiments may induce some to starve to death rather than accept our aid.

Respecting the failure of the Klatch in Kyrall. It would appear that some very poor actions were taken in both anti-insurgency and anti-protest areas. It has become obvious that some States of the Federation should know they have little skill in the practice of peace keeping and not attempt to involve themselves in such actions in the future.


*******
Port Olympus
Capitol of the Klatchian Federation
Press Confrence on steps of the Presidental Palace

An older man with a cane and in a white suit walks up to a podium.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press. It has come to our attention that the nation of Macisikan has filed a protest with the Federal Government, both directly and through the Outer Ministry of the United Duchies. At this time the Federal Government has yet to issue a formal response. At 2020 hours local an attempt to assasinate two leading citizens of the Federation and the Outer Consul was made by parties not yet identified. As such the Macisikan Protest has been yet not replied to. Presently the government is focused on trying to secure government officals and their safe transit within the city. I will now answer a few questions from the press on both matters."

OOC: Ask away...in the end D.B. is out of the loop because the pipe line got jamed. I am sure things went unanswered when the Pope went off to the hospital.

******
"Yes, well just make sure you don't become the next Phyrric. Whatever the laudable constitution of the Free Republic might say about things." The Landgravine paused in thought. "Well there you have it, once we get you into office I think we can start cleaning up this mess." She turned to Elizabeth. Now don't you have a convoy of refugee supplies your supposed to be escorting to Neo Tyr?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, I'd best be off...good evening General."

The Landgravine smiled slightly watching her sister leave. "I need to get some work done at the office after this mess. Ah, General as advisor, and future Inner Council, I am afraid your going to have to stay in Port Olympus. I don't have the time to deal with this little shoot out. So I am going to assign the Klatchian Marshall who will be investigating this incident to your supervision. After all, the Checka will likely have me as a major suspect in trying to kill you...we wouldn't want the apperance of a coverup now would we."

She walked towards one of the doors.
"Oh, and don't worry about sweating the owner of this place. I plan on having the whole Privy Council dine here for free for a good number of years. I will see you tommorrow, enjoy the rest of your evening, oh and I have assigned you Captain Surefire as your new aide. He'll be outside with your armored limo."

OOC: I guess they didn't seem that good. However some of the stuff I've got on the boards for the JDF is the new advanced stuff plus some present tech but not used RL for this kind of thing.

The correspondents from the main Macisikani News agencies started to put their hands up, when MNB's mobile phone rang.
Followed a few seconds later by MNN's mobile.
Then the Arn-Maciska Times rang.
The Imperial Star.
Then the others; a whole chorus of urgent ringing.
Looking highly embarrassed, the Imperials pulled out their phones, and whispered down the lines in Macisikani.
Without warning, acting as one person, the correspondents stood, and then took off, talking a mile a minute down their phones as they leaped into cars and jumped into vans.

One of the KNN reporters managed to snag the MNN camera man as he went past.
"What's going on? Where are you all off to?"
The other just gave him a harried glance, before pulling free and following his journalist.
It's the Imperial Star who replied; "Our government is slightly upset with the situation in Rotovia."
"We've just declared war and are sending an army," the Arn-Maciska Times adds, cheerfully, before hurrying away.

Within seconds the only Macisikani left are a two-man backup team from MNB; the correspondent, looking slightly put out, tentatively raises his hand.

"How soon can the safety of the Klatchian leaders be confirmed?"

OOC: the Empire's going to be rather distracted for now, but we're still paying enough attention to what's going on to notice when bad things happen. (things went unanswered when the Pope went to hospital, and I bet the Americans didn't give events in the South Pacific their full attention when they were going into Iraq; it's all good).

============

To: Outer Ministry, United Duchies of Alcona and Hubris
From: Ministry of External Affairs
##CONFIDENTIAL##

We appreciate your consideration and efforts in this matter

Whilst your government individually is rather well thought of here, we are rather concerned with the conduct of Klatch over all. To be frank, Klatch is perceived here as unreliable, brutal, hotheaded, out of control, corrupt, and morally bankrupt. That is not the official position of our government, but the Opposition is painting Klatch with the blackest shade they can, and it is all those on our side of the bench can do to stop you from being tarred with the same brush.

We would also point out that it was not security that forced the media out; that was the direct orders of Vrak, the leaders of the Klatch if we are not mistaken. That move has since done a great deal of harm to your Federation's reputation; many were privately asking the question "why force them out if the Klatch have nothing to hide?" They have now come up with their own answers, none of them favourable, and are airing them via the tabloids.

In addition, while you are to be applauded for your efforts in mitigating the disaster, this is only aggravating Klatch's disgrace; many are now pointing out that you are the exception rather than the rule, and are contrasting your methods with those of the rest of Klatch.

We hope that your measures, and those that we have heard the Dyellians are undertaking, are enough to avert a crippling disaster, however they will not be enough to salvage Klatch's tattered reputation. Klatch as a whole needs to put a highly visible and real effort to heal the wounds of Neo-Tyr.

We would offer our assistance in the matter, but current circumstances limit what we may offer; political considerations aside, we are preparing to invade the nation of Rotovia to restore democracy, and that affair has first call on our resources and attention.

Thank you for your time and consideration,
Lady Justina Valdir, Minister for External Affairs.

The Klatchian Marshall made a joke as he watched various news reporters scramble away, "I thought I brushed my teeth after eating those garlic shrimp for dinner." He chuckled although looking a bit concerned, "Ah yes?"
"At the present time, all of the senior government officals and most of the Keys have been located. There are a few not yet found and taken to secure locations, however most of the Keys are presently still in the closed debate occuring within Parliament this hour....Yes you there..."

"What if any casualties were there in the attack...and how many attackers were there?"

"The casualty list is presently two wounded and two dead with one individual unaccounted for...we presently do not know the number of attackers but is believed to be from one to four...possibly as many as six."

"How did they manage to get through security at the club, indications are that there is a heavy JDF presence for the last eight months."

"Six actually, the individual or individuals who orginized this attack appear to have had an intimate knowledge of the location. As such they either purchased or procured this information locally..."

A second man in a black uniform appeared and whispered in his ear.

"Ah yes...I would like to add that the Federal Government has issued a 40 million Krondor reward for information leading to the arrest and capture of the individuals responsible for this crime, I should add it will be tax free...."

To: Macisikan Ministry of External Affairs
From: Outer Ministry of the United Duchies
++Confidental Reply++
Ah but the oppostion does speak some truth. The Federation is a union of States, some of those state governments are corrupt, some are barbaric, and some are clueless. The Federation is as much about protecting ourselves from each other as well as protecting the Klatch from outside invasion and interference.

Neo Tyr has paid a heavy price for interfering in the Klatch. Most of it caused by pure clulessness.

If any legitamate reporters wish to re-enter Neo Tyr we suggest they first be credentialled by the United Duchies and arrange to be 'imbedded' with one of the units operating in Neo Tyrian waters.

Also, we would like to note that your News Association refused our attempts to present a more detailed picture of the mess in Neo Tyr.

The Captain stood back, waiting for a second to reply to the Dyellian. "Listen, we're all friends here, the COH is not a member of the Klatch, we're your allies. Our orders are taken from the Klatchian Military Command, that we understand is from the Vrakians. We will not open this dock until our forces are safely out of the dock. Now the last LCAC's and GLCAC's will be gone in around 10 minutes, their last batch is loading up as we speak. It'll be another 20 minutes before the ships behind me are ready, then we'll leave. Besides, what good is an evacuation dock with no ships to evacuate anyone, we're not taking anyone and there isn't much dock space left for other vessels. We will follow orders but we're prioritising here, if you want a successful and orderly evacuation i suggest you wait."

-COH-

Somewhere deep in the Ministry of External Affairs
Baron Mordecai Alscarna was reading the Alconian reply to the latest MinExAff message as he stalked the corridors deep within the Ministry. When he reached the notation about the media he raised an eyebrow and murmured "Oh, they did, did they?"
He walked on for a few more steps, lost in thought. It would make my job a hell of a lot easier if the whole lot just dropped off the face of the Earth... Abruptly, he stopped, and turned to his secretary, who was trailing a few metres behind him
"Get me the MNA. Now."
"Yes Minister."

===============

To: Outer Ministry of the United Duchies
From: Ministry of External Affairs
##CONFIDENTIAL##

I realise that there is a grain of truth in the Opposition's claims, but we in the government would like to retain a higher opinion of the Klatch as a whole. Believe it or not, we actually understand the current position of the Federation as a whole; the Empire had similar difficulties at one stage. I personally hope that you, as we, will be able to work the problems out.

I have made inquiries for you to the MNA to find out why they refused your offer, and it appears that the actions of Klatch have frightened them. They think that if they report the situation in a way unfavourable to the Federation then it will prompt some of the more hotheaded members of the Federation into declaring war on us, and that His Imperial Majesty's government will have them executed in the hope that such a move would stay Klatchian wrath. Leaving aside the fact that we haven't done that in over fifty years, their concerns are with some justification. If you could possibly find a way for Klatchian wrath at unfavourable reports not to fall on our government, or on any of our humanitarian aid workers, then MNA assures me that they will be very happy indeed to have reporters stationed with your people in Neo-Tyr.

I agree that Neo-Tyr has paid a heavy price; but the perception on this side of the table, and it is spreading and growing amongst other members of the international community, is that Neo-Tyr is paying far too heavy a price.

If we can help resolve the Tyrnian situation, perhaps by providing services as impartial mediators between Klatchian occupying forces and any local insurgents, let me know. I still would have to argue the case before parliament, but that is my problem.

-Baron Mordecai Alscarna, Junior Minister for External Affairs

To: Macisikan Ministry of External Affairs
From: Outer Ministry of the United Duchies
**Confidential**
We offered a live, interview with Landgravine Hubris. Landgravine Hubris is the eldest child of His Grace, Alexander III. She is also currently the Outer Consul of the Klatchian Privy Council which is the group responsible for National Military actions.

We should point out at this time that she is not responsible for military actions taken by the various State Militaries, unless they are acting under Joint Defense Force supervison. In the current example of Neo Tyr, the occupation was under a general Parliamentary Order and under the direct supervison of the Advisor to Neo Tyr.

Effectively this proved to be too weak a position to effectively maintain control over all military forces.

Returning to the 'new issue' at hand. We would like to present the following argument presented by your News Association upon our last correspondence:
"But even if this all was the case, our Parliament is more likely to sneer than to listen."

Based on this phrase we could only assume that your position was fixed on the matter. However, with your current correspondence and the enclosed correspondence from your News Service we are becoming wary of the MNA and its real purpose.

We can not see how, in this situation, Macisikan could be seen as a target for retribution for the Landgravine's unedited, live comments.

The interview is off the table at present due to the assassination attempt. Until some more clarity of who or whom attempted it. All interviews with the foriegn press by members of the Royal Family are suspended until futher notice.

However, we have been requested by the Dark Coast Wire Service to send a reporter into the Rotovian Conflict. (We should note that the United Duchies is located within the Dark Sea and the reason for the name people get the wrong ideas.)

enclosed: Last message from MNA and the prior message from the Outer Ministry.

It was over, for the most part, in Kyrall. The downtown section was gone, it had sunk beneath the ground. In its place was a pit filled with debris of both the upper and lower city. Millions were dead. Smoke and dust floated from the gapeing maw of destruction, while there were fires breaking out where the city had not collapsed. The causeway leading to the airport had snapped under the force of the collapse, yet there was little damage to the airport, expect the fall of one of the prolonged runways that was built over the sea. Not many people could get close the pit- they'd either choke from the gas or fry from the heat. The largest city in Neo Tyr was now gone. This would have very serious repercussions.

The Klatch would have to act fast- very fast. Already the Tyrinians were thinking of an open revolt. The outlanders had not only flattened their city but enslaved their people (And a majority of the population thought that all factions had enslaved their fair share, not just Midlonia). The Klatch had a few ways to try to remedy this.

One was to woo the Houses of Neo Tyr. If they had the nobility’s support, they might be able to stop the citizens. Secondly, they could quell the uprisings with good old-fashioned force. But that would further tarnish the FKC's name and would essentially make the undecided citizens pick up the sword. The third way was to try to placate the masses. That would be very difficult to pull off and would need Dyelli Beyabi's support. Finally, they could just pull out. But that wasn't very likely, not likely at all. Note that this list is not yet exhausted.

---

Haart narrowed his eyes. "You know my name, knew that I was going to that interview, were able to sneak an armed force in, attack some sort of government official, and then were able to escape. Your organization must have very good informants, very good indeed."

"Now, who are you and where am I?" He said, looking at the bag, and wondering how he was going to put it on...

---

On one of the boat-planes, Kajar looked at the alcoholic content of the 'cola'. "By thunder, this had more percent alcohol than a shot of Dragonsblood- Urgh..." Kajar trailed off. "Young! Get me a bag! Now!" He demanded to his assistant.

Young nodded quickly. "Um, sorry to bother you Commissar," He said to Baldwin, "But do you have a bag you could get quickly?" He said.

---

On the other plane Marimeta nodded. "My thanks. We should be arriving in Easterling shortly..." She said. "What is your basic plan from there? Just get the important people to the island?"

---

On the Hirgizstan dock, an undercover insurgent got an air of the conversation between the Klatichans. There weren't many insurgents there, just and handful. But that could change very soon. He ran towards the crowd. "Y'hear that everyone!?" He yelled, "Those outland bastards aren't letting us out! They're planning on all of us dying! That's their plan!" He called out. It wasn't a good thing, either, because it was working up the crowd.

(OOC: Neo Tyr if I recall correctly, your 'second' outer ring of islands was primarily agricutural (and had slaves on them). So far the Alconians have only done cusory examinations of those islands but a more detailed investigations and defense building operations are about to start. Er...T.G. the details.

14 miles out from Kyrall
They began appearing along the horizon in small numbers. Then as a giant wave from the south east. There was perhaps two hundred in all, hovercraft. Actually they were Alconian Marine LAC hovercraft that had been used to transfer men and supplies around the outer perimiter islands for the past week.

A Random Ferry in Neo Tyr

As the ferry pulled up to the dock, a group of marines jumped aboard even before unloading operations had begun and scrambled up to the bridge to inform the captain that this boat was going to be commendeered to steer for Kyrall to evacuate survivors.

------------
The woman laughed, "Yes general I do have very good informants. You see not all Klatchians love the Federation...let us call them Seperatists. Individuals who want their homeland free from the iron grip of the Federal Government. And no desire to see other nations fall into the same trap." She noted that the general was looking at the bag. There is a change of cloths in there...we didn't have your dimensions so they are likely going to be ill fitting, but Su...someone sew the Neo Tyrian flag on it so you won't get shot. And we got one person in and two people out, and I jumped the gun and tried to kill a Crawford, so be it."

She kicked the bag indicating he should open it.
"Now then, where are you? One of the four great aqueducts of Port Olympus. Traveling towards the heart of the city. Who am I, the name is Rathal, Elaine Ralthal...Who I am in the larger, 'why are you breaking me out of a P.O.W camp'...that is a more difficult story to explain while we are on the move....espcially considering I will need to delve into Klatchian Politics and History. I will explain, later when we are in a safe location. But for now I represent those Seperatists and their dreams."

Inside the bag was a set of very baggy black sweats with a small, off colored Neo Tyrian Flag over the breast of the shirt. Also there was a black cap.

She looked at Haart, "Well hurry up and change...we don't want to miss your ride back to Neo Tyr do we?"

Baron Alscarna glared at his desk.
Klatchians, newsmen, Tyrnians... godalmighty, but isolationism is looking real good right now
"Get me the MNA, AMT, and ImpStar."
"Yes Minister."
"And someone bring me more coffee..."

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

To: Outer Ministry of the United Duchies
From: Ministry of External Affairs
## CONFIDENTIAL ##

Neither myself, nor anyone in this office, was aware of the offer made to the Macisikani Newsmedia Association, in part or in full. We have a free-content media here; with the exception of the paper the Governmental Journal, the news channel "Your Government, Your Friend", and the radio station "All Ministry, All Day", His Imperial Majesty's Government has no direct control over media content; we cannot dictate to the stations what they will and will not broadcast.

We accept your explanation for the Landgravine's influence on the actions in Neo-Tyr; we do not hold her to be connected in any negative way with this disaster.

MNA's comment on the sneer is actually inaccurate; judging by their mood at the time, the Parliamentary response could be summed up as "Prove it". That said, a sneer would be a marked improvement over their current attitude.

Do not be concerned with the MNA; their primary purpose is to keep the various news channels away from each others' throats. The truth of the matter is that, following the more unsavoury news from Neo-Tyr, they were rather badly frightened, and held that Klatch would overreact. In addition their opinion of the Klatch in general is not something appropriate for diplomatic correspondence; they felt that they had seen all that they wished to of Klatchian Foreign Policy. To be fair to them, "restraint" is not a word currently associated with the Federation (the phrase "war crimes" on the other hand...). These concerns are shared by a number of Members of Parliament.

With regards to the interview, both we here at the Ministry, and the MNA understand fully; security must be a top priority in these circumstances (and it won't do the MNA much good if the person they want to interview is dead).

If you are still interested in getting your message across to the Empire at large than I advise sending a statement, preferably from one of your higher-ups, to the Arn-Maciska Times or the Imperial Star. These are reputable publications, with a grounded reading among people in very high places, and they are more than likely to publish an article written by one of your officials; especially if you emphasise the Alconian (?) connection.

On the subject of the reporter in Rotovia, at present, feel free to do so. The situation is dissolving rapidly into chaos, so their safety cannot be assured, but as far as we are aware the allied command is interested in keeping our side open to the press. We must advise you; do not send the team into the areas of Rotovia under the control of Mr. Powers as he has had Rotovian news crews gunned down for doing broadcasts, or worse.

Our offer of mediation as a neutral third party is still open.

- Baron Mordecai Alscarna, Junior External Affairs Minister.

enclosed; contact details for AMT and ImpStar

The Officer with the Hirgizstanis growled, "The Klatchian Military is under the control of the Landgravine Hubris of Alcona and Hubris, who is coincidentally the Commander in Chief of this opperation, where have you been?"

Despite being smaller than the Hirgizstani, he was doing a good job of peering down his nose, "We expect that very shortly full control of this situation will be handed over to Dyelli Beybi." with all the implications therein.

The Officer then decided it was about time he decided to adress the crowd, walking in front of the tanks, and occasionally telling someone on the other end of his walkie talkie important news. Nobody hear would speak one word of the peculiar language he was speaking, known as Moskauan, his last remark though, roughly translated as; "If someone shoots me it's the Hirgizstanis."

"People of Kyrall." he yelled, "The Provincial Government of Dyelli Beybi has organised what evacuation force we can."

He gestured at the waiting pair of warships, "Backed in full by the Joint Defence Force of Klatch, and we will evacuate as many people as we can to Easterling. We are not interested in whether you are an insurgent or not. We offer a full amnesty to any fighter who hands over their weapons upon boarding a Dyelli Beybian vessel, or of course who isn't carrying any... Unfortunately we're a little short on boats right now, although more will be arriving shortly. As soon as this little incident is fully resolved we will be able to comence the evacuation."

A few hundred metres down the dock, Kriegsmarine had broken into a warehouse on the edge of the port facility. The Kriegsmarine were infamous looters, having caused several major diplmatic incidents and one very near war, by their inability to resist the urge to raid the odd merchantman.

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

In the air nearby Baldwin was up and back in a flash with a sick bag, "I'll be back."

She was a few minutes later with a packet of tablets marked 'Cyclizine, 25 mg', "Swallow a couple of these" she ordered, "Then try not to be sick in the next half hour or so, you should start to feel better... I wouldn't drink that cola though, might knock you right out."

She touched Kajar lightly on the shoulder, she seemed to have been thinking while she'd been rummaging around for medical supplies, "I would fully understand if you despised us, we are the foreign invaders after all, but if it's any consolation, I think you'll find most of the Dyelli Beybians are sickened by what happened in Kyrall."

She was trying to distract Kajar from his motion sickness, it worked with some people, it was worth a shot, "It is disgusting how this kind of injustice could be perpetrated under a Klatchian flag."

Dyelli Beybians had become hot on the 'justice' front, it had something to do with 'revolutionary ideals'.

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

On a nearby plane, Dashwood fielded the question, "No, not unless the situation gets desperate. Naturally we will evacuate an important person over a non-important one, but we do intend at this stage to move everyone we can to a safe destination."

On the monitor Dzerzhinsky nodded vigorously, "Well put Commissaar, I think that sums our position up."

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

In Easterling, Cooper had been stired into action, sending out a summons to whichever Neo Tyran was in Command of the local garrison. Apparently Cooper wanted to put him in charge of organising an evacuation from Kyrall...

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

In Dyelli Beybi, the High Chancellor had calmed down somewhat. Despite the somewhat offensive remark by the Macisikani news agency, (the name of which he'd forgotten), the Macisikanis had sent him a telegram which had been polite and well worded enough to make him genuinely pleased, it seemed the world wasn't just full of hick, inbred, cultureless barbarians after all.

Collins put his feet up on his desk. There was a pretty young Commisaar acting as his secretary today, Collins was married, but it didn't hurt to look, "Where's Felix?"

"He's in a tele conference with the Neo Tyrans." she explained.

"And you are?"

"Police Sergeant Wallace, Sir." she replied.

She was blonde, with blue eyes, most irregular among Dyelli Beybians, so was Collins' wife. The thought of his wife (whom he did truly love) caused the High Chancellor to look away from the girl for a moment, "Have you ever been overseas?"

She shook her head, "No Sir."

"Send a letter to the Macisikan Ministry of Defence, since Felix isn't here I want you to go to go over there to discuss what an apropriate International response would be, and don't try to weasel out of it and lumber this task onto another Commisaar."

"Wasn't going to Sir." she was actually grinning, although probably more from a desire to get out of the country than to do the bidding of the head of State, "I won't let you down Sir."


To: Macisikan, Ministry of Intelligence or Ministry/Department of similar function
From:Offices of the High Chancellor, Dyelli Beybi
Subject: Neo Tyr
The High Chancellor sends his regards, and wishes to let it be known at an official level, that Dyelli Beybi is both glad and grateful to not be numbered among the warmongers who have caused the somewhat grievous situation in Neo Tyr.
As such, I, personally, have been asked to travel to Macisikan to meet with relevant persons and discuss what the civilised world can do to prevent further attrocities from taking place.
-Commisaar H. Wallace (Police Sergeant),
Aid to the Secretary to the High Chancellor

(OOC: Small OOC note for Alcona, feel free to RP Dyelli Beybian Separatists, that kind of movement would find fertile recruitment grounds in Dyelli Beybi.)

The Hirgizstanian Marine Captain didn't have time to reply as the three Deylli Beybians walked off to talk to the crowd. The problem was the only ground troops in Kyrall were those of North Germania, Vrak and the COH, thus orders came from whoever had the best vantage point. Right now the Captain was laughing, he could see the anger in the crowds faces, they were shouting insults.

They didn't seem to listen much to the Dyelli Beybians, some did and some didn't. The simple fact was if the COH forces were under fire or threatened by the Neo Tyrinians they would open fire, it was simple. They could go around the occupied loading bays, heck they could even use the beaches and coastline to either side of the dock, but they couldn't come into the loading area behind the tanks.

The fact was this war was turning into a gigantic diplomatic mess, with everyone gagging for something or other. The Commonwealth of Hirgizstan were here to support their trusted ally, North Germania, and that was about it. In under 30 minutes the last Hirgizstanian ships would be loaded up.

-COH-

This time Alscarna wasn't stalking hallways buried deep in the External Affairs Ministry. He was occupying a chair in a rather pleasant office in the Ministry.
Opposite him was Dame Miranda Kavar, Secretary of State for Imperial Security, an older woman with a face like an elderly apple, a thatch of white hair, and eyes like gimlets.
"It's genuine?" he asked.
"Oh, definat'ly," she replied with a small smile, "they seem to be serious 'bout this."
"Is this going to go anywhere?"
"Meaning?"
"We-ell, you know... the Dyellians recently got rid of a corrupt and oppressive monarch, and well... er..." Alscarna hiked a thumb over his shoulder.
"Ah. Yes. His Imperial Majesty," Dame Miranda paused thoughtfully. "Nnn-o, no, I don't see there bein' a problem. A Commissar, yeah, but Dyellians seem to be reas'n'ble people... I doubt she'd let somethin' like differences in politic'l systems stand in the way..."
"Good, then. I'll talk to Dame Lavina-" the Secretary of State for Immigration "- and get her to issue a diplomatic visa..." the Junior Minister rubbed his eyes, "... draft a response... and there's that Germanian soldier..."
"M'lord, can I suggest somethin'?"
"Go ahead..."
"Get a good meal, and then get some sleep. You've been runnin' on caffeine and willpower for the past four days. We'll call you when Ms. Wallace arrives."
When the Junior Minister looked doubtful, the older woman rolled her eyes and added "And we'll take care of the reply. Not sent by a top official, not needin' a Ministr'l reply; anyways, it is addressed to me."
"Sure... Dame Miranda?"
"Yes sir?"
"I wish the First Minister was back; then we wouldn't have to play footsie with the Opposition..."
"Ah, well, it's polt'cs Minister. Now you go and get some rest."
"OK..."
"See you later m'lord."
"'night..."

To: Offices of the High Chancellor, Dyelli Beybi (ATTN: Commissar H. Wallace)
From: Secretariat of Imperial Security, Macisikan
Subject: re: Neo-Tyr
The High Chancellor's regards are well received by His Imperial Majesty's Government.

You are welcome to journey to Macisikan for such discussions; a meeting with the Junior External Affairs Minister, Baron Mordecai Alscarna (who is currently handling the Neo-Tyr situation) has been arranged, as well as a meeting with Dame Kimberly O'Brien, the Secretary of State for Aid and Humanitarian Efforts. In addition a diplomatic visa has been arranged, as well as accommodation in The Envoy's Roost (a residence in the Diplomatic Precinct reserved for persons such as yourself who have no permanent embassy in the Empire).

Attached are the visa details, suggested travel times to Arn-Maciska International, contact details for The Envoy's Roost, and the details of security conditions.

We look forward to long and fruitful discussions on the matter.

- Dame Miranda Kavar, Secretary of State for Imperial Security.

Commisaar Wallace was not the best choice for the assignment she'd been given. Had Collins been a little more patient and not just given the assignment to the first Commisaar in his office, it would undoubtedly have been given to someone older, more experienced and more likely to take the mission seriously. Wallace had, on occasion (and behind her back) been called a bimbo. This was grossly unfair, she was, a very intelligent girl, more so than most of the other Cheka agents, she was though, somewhat lacking in the die-hard 'I love the state' attitude possessed by most Commisaars and in possession of a distinctly Dyellian ability to avoid doing any serious work.

As it was though, Hazel Wallace found herself in business class, on a commercial airliner bound for Macisikan, doing her utmost to consume as much alcohol as the cabin crew would provide, she was determined to make the most of this opportunity to get out of the country... and do her job while she was at it.

Like most of the junior female Cheka agents, Wallace was strikingly attractive. The more cynical older members of the force went out of their way to convince pretty young girls leaving University that the Cheka was a great career choice (especially if one were willing to use one's God given assets in service of the State). She had the usual fine boned Dyellian features, but with blonde shoulder-length hair and blue eyes, both of which were very unusual among the citizens of the River Valley, and which spoke of a heritage that went back to the crusading knights that had got horribly lost on their way to Jerusalem and instead settled in Dyelli Beybi. She was also tall for a Dyellian (which made her about average height by anyone else's standards) and was graced with a slender physique which blossomed out in all the right places.

In order to not provoke suspicion, she'd also made sure the Cheka uniform was stowed away in the hold. In truth she didn't particularly want to wear it, and it would probably stay in her suitcase for the whole trip. Instead she'd opted for a grey skirt and jacket over a white blouse. It made her look like just about any other businesswoman on the flight, which suited her just fine, back in Dyelli Beybi she was always getting sideways looks. People respected the Cheka, but they also feared it. If you crossed a Cheka agent you could end up in prison.

On the plane's intercom, the pilot pointed out they were about to land, and reminded them, wearing seatbelts was compulsory for this part of the journey. Idly Wallace wondered how much time there would be that wasn't taken up with meetings, then decided it was probably best to think about that later, the plane was coming into land and she had no idea what to expect at the other end...

"My lady, if you would come this way." The speaker was a young man, early twenties, with short dark brown hair, smooth features, and tanned skin. "I am John O'Malley, from the Ministry of External Affairs. Welcome to Arn-Maciska."

With him were four of the numerous, interchangeable officials known as "protocol officers" - people employed to do a variety of minor but important diplomatic tasks, like making sure that foreign visitors didn't put their feet in their mouths in front of the King-Emperor. The Empire had them in abundance; there was probably a factory somewhere. There were also at least six nondescript men from the Secretariat of Imperial Security, scanning the terminal.

"We have a car waiting to take you to the Ministry," he said with a smile. "Your luggage has been collected," he added gesturing behind him; baggage handlers, also from the Ministry, had collected Wallace's luggage and were waiting.

"Right this way."

It turned out that O'Malley's idea of a "car" was a stretch limo with police escort; having been hustled through customs by the Ministry's people, Wallace now sat in the back seat of a limousine, O'Malley seated on her left.

Through the tinted windows she could see towering gothic cathedrals, their slender arches reaching for the sky; the streets weren't tarred, but paved. It seemed as though every second street corner had a granite or bronze statue on it. It was apparent just from looking out the window; Arn-Maciska was a very, very old city.

He turned to her.
"Do you have any questions before we arrive at the Ministry?" he asked.

===================

In the Ministry itself Baron Alscarna was studying the folder on the desk in front of him; Wallace's face stared back at him.
"See something you like Mordecai?"
"Minister!"
Lady Justina Valdir, the Minister for External Affairs, Alscarna's boss, stood in the door of the room, a smile on her face.
"Well?"
"Easy on the eyes. I think they do it deliberately."
"Just make sure she doesn't use it on you."
Baron Alscarna laughed, and held up his right hand; a band of gold glittered on it. "And forsaking all others, do keep myself only for her. I am very married," he said.
Justina's smile widened.
"Excellent," her watch beeped, and she glanced down at it. "I have to go to the Palace now; Her Imperial Majesty is in a social mood. I trust you will be able to handle this..."
"I'll be fine my lady, don't worry."
"Good," Valdir turned to leave, then stopped halfway through the turn "Mordecai?"
"Yes?"
"Your sword. It's on backwards."
"Huh? Oh. Whoops," hurriedly Alscarna fumbled with the belt.
"I'll get the protocol people to send you some caffeine."
"Ah. Thanks."
Shaking her head, Valdir swept out of the office.

OOC: Wow, I missed a lot. Sorry about my absence, my computer died. I'm using my mother's for the time-being.

Can anyone give me a brief overview of what's happening in the Klatch? Assassination attempt? Duh?

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

IC:

Major Kahn and his men had arrived at the Hirgizstanian Checkpoint by the dock, where the Neo's were piled up and the Dyelli Beybians were trying to get through.

As the Hirgizstanian Marine Captain was trying to quell the crowd and negotiate with the Dyellians, he saw the line of twelve Schultzpolizei Urban Combat Guards move through the crowd of Tyrinians. They were easily recognized -- all wearing grey, all carrying automatic weapons, all taller than the Neo's, and all dusty and slightly bloody.

Kahn could be heard screaming "Bewegen! Jetzt!", or "Move! Now!" towards the Neo-Tyrinians.

As Kahn got to the front of the crowd, a Tyrinian man clearly quite angry with Germanian forces, aggressively grabbed Kahn's left shoulder -- a bad idea.

Kahn grabbed the man's face and threw him backwards on his back.

He slung his machine gun on his right shoulder and approached the Captain, giving the Dyellians looks of contempt. "Schweine.", he thought to himself. He then spit while staring at them. Kahn saluted the Hirgizstanian Captain...

Translated from Hirgizstanian...

Major Kahn: "Greetings Captain. I'm Major Kahn of the 27th Gewehr Korps -- you know, we're the ones that knocked that building down. We lost eighteen men trying to make it to one of our docks and our damn radioman got hit dead-on by an RPG, so we've had no way of getting in touch with our choppers. You mind if we get behind that barricade of yours? A bullet grazed my head and I have a little stab wound in my side, so if you've got a medic back there, it would help too."

- N.G.

The Dyellian officer gave the Germanian that same down the nose look that said the boot would be on the other foot soon, and boy were things going to change.

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

Wallace was rather overwhelmed by the whole situation, she hadn't actually been in a limousine before, and certainly hadn't excepted one. The architecture in the city was quite similar to Cyro, Bath, Saint Guineford's or any of the other medieval Dyellian cities. It was vaguely disapointing, they even seemed to have the same excessive number of Churches. There had been statues too, but many had been demolished in the revolution, some had been replaced with more suitable statues glamourising the struggle of the lower classes.

Did she have any questions? "Yeah, ah who am I meeting with and how should I address them? I fear I havn't been properly briefed in the rush to get this whole business rolling."

She had actually had a very prolonged briefing by one of the Diplomatic Corp, but had forgotten most of it.


The Cheka, in the interests of maintaining transparency, (which was something they failed miserably at) had readily accessible Dossiers on Commisaars assigned to non-secret tasks, such as advising the High Chancellor. As such it was fairly easy to dig up information on Wallace.

She was 23, born in Jesuitlem. She had been a serf at the time of the rebellion, on 'house duties'. That was clearly a euphemism, and it didn't take a genius to work out what was being hinted at. She had been 18 at the time of the rebellion and had seen service working as an orderly at an NSWP field hospital on the outskirts of Cyro, and later had been transfered to the Logistics Corp in Alexigrad, where she had acted as a clerk. The NSWP was one of the rebel factions, they had allied with the Communists and effectively united all major opposition against the Tzar.
After the war she'd volunteered for the Cyro Metropolitan Police, two years ago she'd been transfered to the Cheka, a transfer which came hand in hand with a promotion to Police Sergeant. She had not taken part in any field work but had worked with CID twice on high profile murder cases.

OOC: Hirgizstanian's speak English, lol, but nearly all military personnel are fluent in North Germanian due to a fairly recent Allied Languages program.

IC:

The Captain caught the gaze of a rather pissed off looking Dyellian, he thought no more of it as he turned to the Major, he composed himself for a second before replying in North Germanian: "Welcome to the party Major, if you get in behind the tanks i'll call up a a medical team for you, if you need water just ask the Tank Crews, they've plenty. Once you get patched up you tell me what your plans are, we can organise a helicopter to get you back with your forces or you can stay here for a while to rest. Either way, your very welcome." The Captain stood to one side to let the Major and his troops through, a couple of M1A3 tankers were hauling water cans and rations out of their tanks to give to the North Germanians, the Captain turned his face to one side and keyed on his radio to call up a medical team.

-COH-

Cooper had stirred Garithos Trisken. House Brother of Great House Trisken and an abundance of other titles that this historian will cut in an attempt not to bore the reader to sleep. He was a loyal man, a trustworthy man. He'd head to Kyrall once the word was given.

---

Marimeta nodded. "Alright. I thank you for your-" However, the Princess was cut off by one of the Rose agents.

"My lady, the pilot has notified me that we will be landing shortly. I'd advise you take a seat." He said in that same old harsh, unfeeling tone.

Marimeta noded. "Y-yes. I see. If you have any more topics of discussion, I'm sure we can discusee him when I'm in Easterling. I hope you take care in the meantime, Grant Dart." The princess said to the men across the sea.

---

Kajar put his hand to his head after tossing back the pills. He felt sick, but was trying to keep his mind off it. "I don't depise you people," He muttered. "I doubt you're in here for much gain. You're not the onces responisble for all those deaths, even if some of my countrymen refuse to belive it. However, I hope you understand if I'd rather have your forces out of my nation..." He said sickly.

---

Haart, still rather shaken from this all, relized that this woman was trying to help him. If she wasn't she would have killed him off the bat. So he swallowed his pride and quickly sliped of his uniform and put on the clothes provided for him. "So what's the plan Miss Rathal?" He asked her.

---

The people at the docks were confused and rather angry, although they weren't attacking the outlanders. Yet.

Meanwhile, the Kriegsmarine had found a warehouse belonging to The Golden Fleece (Providing you quality llama supplies since 1886).

"Well, you'll be meeting with the Secretary of State for Aid and Humanitarian Efforts, and the Junior External Affairs Minister. The first is Dame Kimberly... the second is Baron Alscarna; address him as "my lord", some variant thereof, or "Lord Alscarna". We are aware that Dyelli Beybi recently removed a rather nasty monarchical system... if it makes you feel more comfortable, you can address him as "Minister." He will most likely address you as "milady", unless you have another preferred form of address. Your meeting with the Minister will be first, to work out what we are going to be discussing, then a joint meeting with Dame Kimberly and Lord Alscarna will follow, where we will seriously discuss the issues at hand." Here the young Macisikani paused.
"Of course, not all your time will be taken up with such meetings. I have been instructed to place myself at your disposal in the intervals between the meetings, in case you should wish to see the city."
There was another pause.
"Anything else?" his manner was helpful, but inquisitive.

The limo sped on, crossing a broad river into one of the newer sections of the city; towers of glass and steel soared upwards, with arches and bridges linking them. This area was not so much a part of a city, as a single, massive building which had allowed roads to be built through it.
They were clearly on a major thoroughfare; the sky was constantly visible above them, except for the occasional overpass; gardens could be seen in numerous courtyards, and there were a number of reasonably large fountains. The median strip dividing the road in two was lush and green, interspersed with the occasional square, often set around another statue of some long-dead man or woman (that was the most notable thing about the statues; there were equally as many women as men among them).

In the Aqueduct of Port Olympus

"First we need to get off this man made river. By now the JDF is likely orginized search parties to go down and up this thing and they can make as much noise as they want." Rathal stated in a dry voice.

Soon a red glow appeared around a bend. Here a red glow stick illuminated a small intersecting tunnel were a rope had been run from one side to the other of the Acqueduct. The woman hooked a line from the raft to the rope, allowing them to get out and into the smaller tunnel.

"See that small intersecting tunnel your lordship? Well that happens to be our way out. Last stop, please remember to take all your valuables and check under the seats"

Rathal waited until Haart had climbed up the narrow sloping passage before finishing her task. she dropped a rock into the center of the raft and then slashed the inflated tube of the raft with a knife from her boot. She then cut the cord and untied the line. Here she dropped the red glow stick into the water and watched it run float downstream.
"F***" was all she said before turning in the cramped space and following Haart to the surface.

Haart immerged into the gloom of a basement illuminated by a small barred window high up in the wall. The space smelled of mold and looked abandoned. A moment later Rathal appeared out of the hole and dropped her gear on the floor. "Alright, here is the plan. We need to get out towards the lake from here without being noticed. I have a blue two door parked over two blocks from here, but we are going to have to cross a few backyards to get to it. This isn't the best of neighborhoods anymore so watch yourself, and the ground. I don't need you tripping on some pile of trash in people's yards. Understood?"

The "Outer Islands" of Neo_Tyr
Some small Island Farm in the Western Neo_Tyrian Achipellgo..

A man in a kaki uniform shouted at the house, "Hello...we come in peace...need to talk a bit of buisness." The Alconian Officer hoped that like most island farmers these people were feircly independent but also practical and wouldn't just start shooting at him.

On other small island farms the same basic process was being repeated.
****
Several Town Islands on the West side of the Archiellago were discovering small companies of Alconian Marines arriving in town. The entered quietly without any fan fare, two lines of men dressed in kaki with dark green tabs on their high collars. They polietly tipped their broad brimmed hats to the local ladies (if one should pass) while the officers and junior non-coms addressed finding the local sheriffs/mayors what have you.

****
The Western "Plantation Islands" were the first on list actually for project Neo_Hope. Marines appeared as elsewhere but also with surveyers in tow. Of course this was likely going to piss off the owners to a great extent. Until they found out how much their plantations were being involantarily leased for. The first priority would be building rest room shower buildings.

Kyrall

The hovercraft formed a phalanix ten wide and twenty deep as they approached the shore of Kyrall. Then broke apart into ten files. The leading hovercraft of each file approached shore trying to pull up where either a large dock or on the actuall shore would allow them to deal with the huge rush of people.

From speakers blasted the phrase, "People of Kyrall, we are here to evacuate you to temporary housing and off the island. Please be considerate of your fellow Neo_Tyrians..."

OOC: Weeee I've complicated things considerabely for a moment. Ah Mac, D.B. perhaps it would be better to break off that negotation thread from the main one? I plan on getting the Haart thread remerged with the rest but the O'Booze/Landgravine/Assasination I moved to: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=397430

Cooper was brief with Trisken, "Take your men, get them weapons from our armoury. Get a nice big Dyellian flag and put it somewhere noticeable so the Klatchians don't shoot at you, then take whatever steps necessary to evacuate the population, I won't be there, so I'm leaving it entirely over to you."

He gave Trisken an encouraging smile, "I'll be staying here, so naturally you're in full command. I am trusting you Mr. Trisken, please don't let me down. I apologise for the brevity of this meeting, however I am needed at the airport. It seems one of our brave Commisaars managed to evacuate the Princess..."

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

Onboard that particular plane, the AOS Officer cut the transmission to Cyro, before seating himself for landing. Minutes later the plane touched down, smoothly, and began to taxi to the nearest available terminal.

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

The flying boats were slower though, probably having half an hour or so of flying left to go, "Ah, but better to have us right now." Baldwin pointed out, "Than to only have the other Klatchians. Trust me, most of the Dyellian troops don't want to be here either. They don't see the point."

"One day you'll have to come to Dyelli Beybi. It's a beautiful country, if you can get over the heat."

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

Back in Kyrall, more Kriegsmarine were flooding onto the docks, mostly moving towards that warehouse.

"Hey." one of the men inside was fiddling with a llama-wool jumper, "Do you reckon this is worth anything."

"Not in Cyro or Saint Guineford's." the man next to him remarked dryly, "Get a plane ticket to Moskau, you might be able to sell it for 15 Kronors."

The first sailor glared at the second, "Very funny..."

"Shut up!" there was an officer among them, noticeable by his white cap, "Incase you didn't notice we've got work to do, Park, are the charges placed?"

"Yes Sir." Park replied.

"OK." the officer motioned his men away, keep your weapons loaded, this could get messy, "Now everyone, get back, blow the charges in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1..."

There was an almighty roar as a 6ft by 6ft section of the wall was blown outwards. Outside the Kriegsmarine had effectively bullied and barged their way through the crowd on the dock to establish a corridoor to the gangplank of the Adolf Eichmann. It was now blatantly obvious what they were up to. Their ships were too big to use any other facilities, so they were going to load up here. They were though, making some concessions to the Hirgizstani desire to remove their troops (which was deemed reasonable), by ensuring any movement of civilians was carefully controlled, however it was equally clear that the Grossadmiral was not going to listen to a mere Captain as to what he could and could not do.

The horizon was dark with smoke, indicating more Dyellian vessels were entering the area.

The eyebrows of the Officer at the front gate shot up, "Looks like we don't need your gate after all." he remarked flipantly, "Have fun guarding it." then set off at a trot with his two guards, back towards the ship. Sea harriers zipped backwards and forwards, monitoring the situation as it progressed.

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

In Cyro, Dzerzhinsky sighed, taking a moment to polish the brass insignia on his cap. He didn't say anything though, instead waiting for Dart to speak.

The plane that touched down in Easterling didn't have to wait long to find an open terminal. Easterling Domestic was a smaller airport. True, it wasn't tiny, but it wasn't like Kyrall International or Cabaret International (Which was still on paper at the time, and now wasn't likely to become finished). The plane received a stairway and the Princess and her guards exited.

It was a bleak winter evening in Easterling. The sky was a charcoal grey and a light snow was falling. Marimeta shivered, but was all right, for the most part. In the final light of day some of the landmarks of Easterling were sill in sight. The Easterling Government Building could be seen in the distance. Unlike the ultra-modern version in Kyrall the Easterling building was built in a classic style with plenty of statues on and around it (As far as Neo Tyr was concerned, if a building didn't have a statue, it really shouldn't be considered a real building). The Easterling Cathedral was in sight, a grandiose church rivaled only by the Royal Cathedral in Dronor.

Marimeta closed her hands and puffed on them to warm he cold digits. The Agents didn't seem cold at all, on offered her his coat yet she turned it down. Marimeta was secretly worried. Dashwood might have been trustworthy, but she didn't know much about the foreigners. And what of Lance? Was he alright? But she had to push these thoughts aside when she saw the Dyeillians come to greet her. She felt awkward, to be greeted by outlanders in the oldest city in Neo Tyr (Also the westernmost, which drives most outlanders crazy wondering how it managed to get it's name). Well, these were awkward times, she concluded.

((OOC: Vrak, mind doing something with Vassal? Even if you just throw him in the brig.))

---

Garithos Trisken was happy to accept the commission to evacuate Kyrall. This was a big job, a real chance to show what he could do. Even so, he tried to contact Hamariki Belda for aid, but no one seemed to know where he was. As if he vanished of the face off the Earth...

---

Kajar meekly smiled. "I may, sometime. You should have came here during the peacetime. To have seen Kyrall as you should have- it is- or was a great city. Or Dronor. I suppose it'll become the capital now, like it should be." He finished, trying to keep his mind off the flight.

---

In Dyelli Beyabi, the interview had only made Dart even more sullen and angry than he usually was. Which was something. "So," he said to the Commisar, trying to stay polite, "What were those six million deaths the girl was talking about?" He asked accusingly.

---

The Alconians did not have the greatest welcome. They were at the docks in crowded, makeshift refugee camps. However, they did not approach the hovercrafts, as a runner on behalf of Great House Seabrook had told them the outlanders were taking their people as slaves, and after the collapse of their city the people were far more willing to trust a runner from a great house than an outlander who they believed to the slavers (Cultural note on Neo Tyr- while slavery was legal and generally accepted, slave sellers had a generally bad reputation.)

---

Elsewhere, the Alconians near the Barren Halo were getting mixed responses. The towns, not really getting any news from Kyrall and not caring too much, leniently accepted the outlanders. They were rather busy (Remember- busy is a relative term) for it was winter and the fields were empty. No use worrying in things you can't change, that was the general atmosphere. These towns were so unlike the megalopolises found on the major islands, they represented a dying way of life.

The plantation owners were angry, yelled that the Alconians were on their God-given lands, told them to leave, told their servants to be rather unhelpful, and generally make asses of themselves. But they weren't stupid, and didn't actually interfere in the outlander’s work, save being annoying.

The smaller island farmers were suspicious, but not as irritable as the plantation owners. The one the solders were on was owned by a Hakiri family, which was unusual this far north. The house was built in the traditional native style- a long oval with three rooms and a fireplace in the middle of it. There was a small corral out back for a llama or two. The man of the house, a moderately tall man with jet-black hair and fierce brown eyes exited. "Yes, outlander, what do you want?" He asked the soldiers.

---

Haart accepted the woman's help every step of the way, following he lead. On the surface he listened to her briefing and nodded slowly. "Don't worry," He said in a horse whisper, "I'll keep an eye out." Haart was good at that, he had learned to be sneaky in his long life.

OOC: No problem, Neo

IC:

Destiny's Fist

"Why, this arrest warrant," replied Killamo. He flung it on the table for Vassal to look at.

"As you can see, you seem to attract quite a bit of attention. And until a Klatchian Marshal picks you up, I have no choice but to put you in the brig. I promise that your accomodations will be satisfactory."

With a quick motion of his little finger, the two marines escorted Vassal to a small cell. It had a standard cot and toilet at one end. It was well illuminated and a security camera behind a steel screen could view the entire cell with ease. The steel door slammed shut. Then, momentarily, a tray with food was pushed through a slot.

"From the Capt'ns table, Lord Vassal," relayed the guard.

Meanwhile, a call was put through to High Command informing them that Vassal was in Vrakian custody and could it please be passed onto the the JDF quickly.

Killamo turned his attention to coordinate rescue efforts. The humanitarian effort send out by Vrak was still a few days away, but it did include some hospital ships along with cargo ships laden with food, fresh water, and portable tents. As well, those damn TDP tech corpies managed to convince the military to add on some more of their TDP vats. Probably going to put up billboards advertising their products thought the Admiral.

Still, the resources were welcome, even if they did include some cheesy hucksters passing out brochures to the victims.

Elsewhere throughout Neo Tyr, an aerial survey was being conducted. Although the initial hopes of occupying Kyrall had been dashed, it was believed that Vrak could establish a military presence on one of the outer islands.

OOC: Neo, please check your t-grams.

The outskirts of Easterling had seen some miltary activity over the past day or two. Dyelli Beybian troops were on permanent Station now, as if expecting some attack from the Sea. They had even gone so far as to set up rough sandbag defences and roll out the barbed wire on some of the more exposed patches of beach. Generally though they were still behaving the way they always had, spending large amounts of money on alcohol and spending the rest of the time flirting with the locals.

They seemed to have a very happy-go-lucky approach to life, and were generally quite likeable, if you could get over the fact that they were the invaders. They were also regular Church goers, meaning the Catholic churches were overflowing on a Sunday.

A couple of guards had show up with Cooper to meet the Princess, "Your Highness," the Generalmajor greeted the Princess warmly, then bowed, which was more than any of the other Dyellians had done.

"I am Generalmajor Cooper, the Commander of the Dyelli Beybian garrison, no doubt you want to speak to the Governor." he gave an apologetic smile, "It is entirely my fault, but I forgot to tell him you were arriving, it came as something of a surprise to myself. You may borrow my staff car if you wish, I trust you'll find we kept everything in good order."

And everything was in good order. Dyelli Beybian merchants were frequenting the harbour delivering all sorts of goods, which were then being sold on to the local stores. The added shipping meant prices were up on most commodities, but everything was still available. Protests were allowed, and the local police still patrolled the city. If rioting broke out the Dyellians allowed the locals to sort the mess out and generally just sat around playing Soccer, Rugby and Cricket (and occasionally trying to teach the locals the rules).

(OOC: Sorry I'm assuming Neo Tyr's shop owners would buy off the Dyellians, if they didn't the Dyellians would sell their stock off their boats, so it would be a big money loser for the stores if they refused.)

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"This is your Captain speaking, we're coming in to land in Easterling Harbour. Could you please all return to your seats and make sure your seatbelts are on. That message is specifically for you Commisaar."

"That cheeky b@5tard." Baldwin smiled and shook her head, "Like he said, we'll be landing soon, I'd better get back... water landings are rough."

"Take care Mr. Kajar." she kissed him lightly on the cheek before retreating back to her seat.

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Dzerzhinsky didn't look like he was going to reply for a moment, inspecting his cap critically, "That would be when the undercity collapsed."

He looked up, his expression grave, "I am sorry, but it seems Kyrall has collapsed in on itself. It seems the North Germanians, Midlonians and Hirgizstanis just couldn't keep their fingers off the trigger and kept blowing stuff up."

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Macisikan

Wallace had more been expecting a little back room meeting with some other spooks. Ministers were important, and she was just a Police Sergeant...

"If it's all the same to you lot, I'd prefer to be 'Commisaar'." she smiled, looking a little sheepish, "That is my official title, if they don't like that they could try Sergeant Wallace."

She didn't mention the last person she'd called m'lady had had a very unpleasant meeting with a Commisaar going by the name of Zara Alwood, and had ended up in the stomach of a crocodile, "No that's about it really."

She gave O'Malley an appraising look, "If I have a big break between the meetings I'll have to get you to show me around a bit. It would seem a waste to not do anything in that time, when I'm in such a marvellous city."

The Outer Islands of Neo_Tyr
In the towns the Marines began to rent housing or land to set up an encampment. And rather than try to pay with Krodors they started to pay with gold Griffens. At the same time the officers checked in about how food supplies were doing.

The Alconians began to look over the plantations and their holdings. Inspecting buildings and other structures

On the small island farm, "Well sir we need to lease your land for a year or so from you, willing to pay a fair price." (Er...how big are these islands. I'm assuming at least 400 acres or so...which is not big at all but about the minimum size to have a fresh water source.)

Kyrall
The lack of people wanting to get on the hovercraft at first stymied the commander of the emergency taskgroup. However he decided that "Those f*** Mildonian idiots I bet...damn wogs we never should have admitted them into the Federation in the f***ing first place..."

He picked up the radio. "All craft excluding squadron points head south and see if the Deyllians can use any help in their evacuation..."

Most of the hovercraft began to reform and then turn towards the Deyllian postion to see if they could be of some assistance.

The commander of the taskforce got two marine guards and marched out down a dock. He stopped at one group of refugees. "I need to talk to whoever is in charge of this place...or someone with some authority."

Klatchian Marshals Office, ARN Pythius
"They want to do what?"
"Turn over the fugitive Lord Vassel."
"Who?...."
"I don't know...something likely we didn't get the notice about..."
"Fine, Fine I'll go pick him up."

Destiny's Fist, this is the ARN Pythius, we will be sending a rotodyene with a KM to pick up the prisioner....Pythius Out.

Haart soon found himself in a battered old car of Deyllian Manufacture driving through the dark streets of Port Olympus. Vera kept her eyes on the road. "If we get stopped by the Security Guild, just open fire...we didn't have time to pick up a fake city pass for you..."

Twenty minutes later the car turned onto a street that followed either a lake or other large body of water. On the far side several towers with glaring neon could be made out. This side of the water was nothing more than older warehouses. The car turned into a parking lot and out behind a "Nude Dancing Club" Rathal parked the car in the poorly lit dirt lot and got out.

From a nearby car moans (obviously female and fake) could be heard as they walked by. At the end of the parking lot was a set of trailers. Leaning up against one was a man smoking a cheap cigar.

"Damn it woman your late...the whole fricken JDF is out looking for the both of you..." the lyrical Irish like accent gave him away as a Deyllian.

"Yea well...I knew you'd want to have seconds..."

"Hell, I could have had thirds....come on."

They walked through some bushes to a small canal and across a foot bridge to a metal fence. There was a gate here with a light, and the Deyllian was obviously in uniform (JDF not provintial) "Enjoy..." He opened the gate and let Haart and Rathal into the enclosure.

The docks had quite a few Kriegsmarine one them by now, one of whom spotted the Alconians/JDF (OOC: sorry can't remember which one has the hovercraft) and went over to investigate, "Grossadmiral Von Scheer is the Senior officer on the scene." he hiked a thumb at the waiting Lord Fisher, "But the Hirgizstanis are refusing to take orders and generally obstructing the evacuation. Really I don't know how Klatch gets involved with these hillbillies."

OOC: Alconians operating JDF craft. (Yes the Navy is primarily Alconian dominated, The ground forces are a real mix, and the Airforce is likely dominated by the Vrakians.)

IC: The senior officer on the hovercraft nodded. "Simple they came in to help the North Germanians. Of course with these babies maybe we can find somewhere else to load civilians up."
He hit the side of the landing craft. "Our last attempt met with utter apathy on the part of the Neo_Tyrians. And where are you taking them? I didn't know you had refugee camps set up...."

The officer shrugged, "Only plance we can load them, that and that..."

He pointed at the Battleship and carrier, "...Can't get in close anywhere else."

He shrugged again, "We didn't have a refugee camp, but I think we're planning to billet in Easterling, maybe set one up there."

He shrugged yet again, "If you want answers speak to von Scheer, I'm just loading these guys onto boats."

Lance Vassal sat on his cot and thought. One of his thoughts was the bitter irony that he was captive in his own country, on their own waters, by a group of outlanders. The though of Marimeta, and pondering whether or not she’d been caught. With any luck his little speech let the Princess slip through. How was Dashwood doing? He had been thinking of her lately. And there was even Rudvich. He was an Oathman who had proved his loyalty time and time again to the house, and he was repaid by being locked up in some POW camp. Vassal sighed, ignored his meal, and wished he were back home…

---

Easterling had been going well. The people didn’t hate the Dyellians, even if they didn’t see the point in Rugby and still didn’t understand even the basics of Cricket (They did know how to play Soccer though, even if it was second to Baseball). The people saw them as perhaps good people, (They went to church, even if they were Catholics and were one of the few groups of outlanders who appreciated their local alcohols which they kept quite a bit of pride in), but they were still outlanders. Yet the term ‘Sand Rat’ wasn’t as widespread as it was, which meant they were doing something right.

On the landing strip, Marimeta greeted Cooper. “Yes, I’ve heard of you. Governor Levbo holds you in high regards, as he wrote in his reports.” She replied to Cooper calmly. She was a rather modest girl, she never really tried to assert her authority when confronted with other people.

“It’s very much alright, although it would be good to get to the Government Building. I also believe you might wish to speak with Commissar Dashwood here,” She said nodding and began to make her way to the car, the Rose agents following with looks on their faces like the Dyeillians would whip out assault weapons at any moment.

---

Kajar saw Baldwin left and couldn’t help a grin, his mind at ease for a moment. He turned his gaze towards Young, who also had a sheepish smile on his face. Kajar’s expression turned serious. “Wipe that grin off your face, you’re still on duty.” He said in a scolding manner.

Young panicked for a second. “Y-yes Sir!” He said and looked straight foreword in fear that he was losing ranks. Kajar smiled, but to himself this time. Young would most likely apply to become a Lawman soon. The youth had served Ross well, and could be worth to protect the Kajar name.

---

Dart scowled fiercely and looked down and muttered something in a different language. He tried to keep his emotions in check (Which was something he REALLY didn’t like), and looked back to the Commissar. “So. What would you do with me.” He said with obvious strain to keep his voice straight.

---

In the towns, the gold was very much accepted. Gold kept it’s value, unlike the Drakes did. The people on these islands were never the richest, so the gold was very much appreciated. They even started to offer to do the work setting up anything needed, trying to get a little more income to their year.

The farms were a bit harder. Most farmers went on long rants how the land was in their families for years, it was their ancestral land, the outlanders angered the gods, and general quips like that. But they did eventually give in, on the condition that they would be given more than they would harvest on a good year. That wasn’t a whole lot, these people lived on the poverty line. But they were a happy and kind sort. It was odd, how these poor farmers were happier than the rich urbanites. Perhaps something could be learned from them.

---

Across the sea, Haart rolled his eyes. Two years of military training, 2 additional years of Admiralty training, a 4 year collage, a 2 year specialty training, 15 years of faithful service in the parliament and where was he? Skulking near a strip club in some outland country. He could see the look on his wife’s face in his mind’s eye. He almost laughed, but stayed close to Rathal, going to brave whatever waited inside.

((I’ll be gone for President’s Day weekend. See you all Tuesday.))

Cooper looked fairly pleased to be regarded highly, and smiled, warmly, "The Governor honours me, your Highness, what I have done is only what any other man or woman who values their honour would have done."

He looked inquiringly to Dashwood, "Actually we don't Sir." she gave a wan smile, "I think I can take a day or two off from the stresses of this conflict, my assignments for now are complete."

"Right." Cooper nodded, "I'll issue you with a pager when we get back to base, that way if Cyro calls for you we'll be able to notify."

"Sensible." Dashwood nodded.

She wasn't looking forward to not having a job to do. She still held the secret of the informer within the Cheka, and she'd managed to monumentally fail Lance Vassal. It would all be eating away at her until she was given something else to focus her energies on.

"Your Highness." Cooper gave an apologetic frown, "Unfortunately at this short notice the only transport I was able to get my hands on for you was a military staff car." It would turn out to be an open topped 4x4.

"In the morning, and with your permission, I would like to hold a meeting over how to secure the rest of this country before somebody else swallows it up." Cooper wasn't acting like a conquering General, in fact he was asking the Princess' permission to do things, the Dyelli Beybians certainly were a strange bunch...

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The flying boat came down with a splash. It was a far rougher landing than anything you'd get on land, and to those not experienced with Dyelliflot's planes it would seem like the whole machine was about to break apart, shuddering, and once even bouncing as it hit the water. As it slowed though, things began to look less scary, with the plane slowing until it was sedately crusing at the speed of a slow fishing boat towards the nearest docks.

Commisaar Baldwin decided it was about time to reappear next to Kajar, "Well that was interesting." she remarked of the landing, "So this is Easterling is it? I've heard rumours it's in a much better way than Kyrall. I only hope they're right."

It certainly looked they were right, a Dyellian grenadier who presumably was supposed to be the sentry on the dock was sleeping against the side of a shed. A bottle of something alcoholic next to him. He woke up when he heard the propellars of the planes, and stood up, straightening out his uniform. That kind of behaviour would have been suicide in Kyrall. A more serious looking bunch had been watching with a planes of binoculars from down the coastline where they were laying sandbags.

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Dzerzhinsky shrugged in response to Dart's question, "Fly you to Easterling I suppose. I was going to fly you into Kyrall and try to get you linked in with the insurgency, but that idea seems to have gone down the metaphorical toilet."

OOC: Ah Mac, D.B. perhaps it would be better to break off that negotation thread from the main one? I plan on getting the Haart thread remerged with the rest but the O'Booze/Landgravine/Assasination I moved to: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=397430

OOC: Sure. If DB is OK with that... I've put a thread up at http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=398428

(still chalking up my IC response... it'll basically continue straight from where DB left off)

EDIT: OK, it's up there.

OOC: Dyelli, General Norman H. Steel, CHMC, is the CIC of the Marines, i.e. the Captain would report to him, thus if you wish to protest at the decision then send a Communique. Anyway, i've been away for a while so i'll RP we've been fully loaded.

IC:

The Captain hopped back up onto his ST-21/M5 NGBT tank and stood for a seconds, half looking at the destroyed city, half thinking when he'd get his hands on the new ST-29/M29A1 Arbiter, 'no one would argue then', he thought.

His tank detachment were the last to be loaded up. He had sent the North Germanian's onto an LCAC earlier and was now headed out toward the 3 GLCAC's parked up on a nearby beach. In the docks behind him the HNS Neptune was roaring its engines as it backed away from port.

As the tanks started the crowd moved back to let the 5 M5's and the 5 M1A3's past.

The GLCAC's soon had them rigged up and began to move off toward the Hirgizstanian Ships out to sea.

-COH-

An old face in Dyelli Beybian politics had reared his head in the last week. Otto Himmler, the man who had been the first elected leader of the fledgling democracy, when it had controlled only around 1/3 of what was then Dyelli Beybi.

He was now leading the anti-war crimes bandwagon, and had been seen on several high profile current affairs shows, loudly calling for accountability in the Klatchian military. He also took time to point out the necessity for an increased Dyellian prescence in Neo Tyr - to protect the population from more unruly Klatchians.

OOC: You're not very loyal to the Klatch are you, even though you are a Member, i'm not criticsing you by the way, i'm just slightly confused.

OOC: Internal Klatchian Politics...

(OOC: If you think of Klatch as like a parliament, not everyone agrees, just becaause Vrak has set a course for Klatch doesn't mean DB is going to agree with it, especially if it feels it is of very little benefit to itself. Individual citizens will also feel free to express their opinions.)

(OOC: Now i get it, thats quite interesting, its different from traditional alliances.)

(OOC: If you think of Klatch as like a parliament, not everyone agrees, just becaause Vrak has set a course for Klatch doesn't mean DB is going to agree with it, especially if it feels it is of very little benefit to itself. Individual citizens will also feel free to express their opinions.)

OOC: Correct. Hirgizstan, Vrak holds, at the moment, the current position of president. But in many respects the president is somewhat weak since he has to cajole other states to follow his lead. Alcona likened it to the Holy Roman Empire. As well, individual citizens within each state have various degrees of freedoms regarding how much they actually get to express their opinions. For example, Vrak fluctuates between a police state and iron fisted consumerists which essentially means that normal people don't have a whole lot of rights (since I try to play my nation fairly close to the NS rankings).

As well, and this is only how I feel, it makes it more fun when you have some backstabbing going on. How else will 8+ players actually be able to be united all the time anyways? You'll find that there are very few actual military (re: civil wars) within the Klatch but plenty of intrigue.

Neo Tyr: I can always edit so please let me know if I have overstepped any bounds.

IC:

The humanitarian fleet finally reached Neo Tyr and began their relief efforts. Of course, due to physically crossing through the treacherous reefs and outer islands along with less actual docks and whatnot available, it is highly likely that the losses will continue to mount in the foreseeable future. And like all major disasters, the final body count will never be known.

Still, an attempt had to be done, and while the focus was concentrated on rescuing Vrakian personnel, secondary efforts were made to assist allied and Tyrinians.

A promising middle-sized island inn the north west corner of the nation (that is, closest to the FKC geographically) complete with good sea access was located. A small contigent of marines were unloaded. This was to be the future Vrakian naval base and, for all purposes, the extent to Vrakian presence militarily. The Kyrall disaster proved embarrassing to the High Command who wanted to capture the city intact. Now, plan B was in effect.

Meanwhile, back in Vrak, the re-located handful of Tyrinian researchers found themselves in somewhat luxurious but not overerly decadent accomodations. They were seperated according to ability and knowledge, and, for the most part, their families were re-united with them. But, they were not all put together in one facility, nor were the R&D facilities the best Vrak had to offer. After all, they were seen as unwilling collaborators but someone had the forsight to realize that a happy worker might actually be a productive one. Still, their movements were restricted and watched while the facilities themselves were in isolated locations.

Along with the researchers, most of the top secret projects that were pilfered were also being scrutized by Vrak's own scientists in the Military Research division. The underwater torpedo delivery system along with the the anti-missile screen system (first encoutered by the Dukratians) were of particular interest and seemed to mesh with what Vrak had already been developing. It would be interesting what new toys would be coming out soon.

OOC: A little note for Neo Tyr when you get back from whatsit weekend.

The Cheka are going to be running some very very in depth background scans on Ross Kajar (pardon me if I got his name wrong). Basically they want to know everything about him. Age, place of birth, full name, rank, history of military and/or police service, political affiliation, views on slavery, views on Communism, views on Socialism, views on foreigners, criminal record, history of parking tickets and speeding fines, religion, prefered mode of transport, fears, hobbies, what schools, colleges and universities he had attended and anything else that just happens to show up...

Edward Birmingham upped the estimated death toll in Kyrall form 6 million to 8 million. He also added with a bittersweet note that it would mast likely increase when the smoke and dust faded and he could inspect the giant area of destruction.

The islands that were prospective naval bases were in the north, so they were currently pretty cold. Due to the fact they were part of the Northreach Preservation Act, the only settlements were fishing villages that dotted the south coast. The north, west, and east sides were giant cliffs, and most of the internal parts of the island was a forested wilderness. For a country with little space, Neo Tyr certainly enjoyed preserving it's frontiers.

The scientists Vrak took were understandably very angry. The problem was, they were rich. They had angry friends. Rich friends. Powerful friends. The Tyrinian's were getting more enraged by the day, and if this kept going, MANHUNTER would be dragged in. And that would be bad for everyone.

---

Baldwin found Kajar pale faced with his hand gripped hard onto a railing. He gave a sigh when he saw her. "I rather dislike planes. Or these boats. You do inspect these, right?" He said, revealing a lack of faith towards the transportation given to him.

He glanced outside the window. "This is Easterling alright," He said gazing over the city. "The cathedral over there gives it away. My subordinates gave word that it was doing well. That's good, because traditionally we've had quite the problem with the Tong around here. They make little strongholds on the warfs and tunnel themselves in the pocket islands. Filthy scum." He finished with a scowl.

He returned his attention to Baldwin. "So, now what is the general plan, after getting off this... contraption?"

---

Marimeta nodded. "That will do fine as transport."

She heard him talk of the meeting. "I suppose that has to be done as well. Alright, we'll hold that meeting tomorrow. It'd be nice to have more officials here, but we have Cicero Vassal, so I suppose that'll do." Cicero Vassal was Lance's eldest brother, and heir the Vassal name.

"I thank you for your help. Now, I should be going. Good day, Mr. Cooper," she said plainly, trying to look as majestic as one could in dirty sweatclothes. The Rose agents quickly sent her off to the car (Which they trusted about as much as they could throw it), and were on their way.

Easterling was an old town, it was the oldest city that still really mattered to Neo Tyr. It took great pride in it's culture, there were more theaters and museums in the city than there were in most, and there was the infamous cathedral which at it's time rivaled any other, even across the sea. Statues dotted the road, even in the newer districts. From the north, the city expanded into the sea with a mass of houses built on the ocean for Easterling was among the few cities in Neo Tyr not to have an undercity.

Marimeta's transport deftly maneuvered to the large government building. Built in marble, it was truly an impressive sight. Giant pillars were placed in the front, where a fountain was located and would be running if it were not winter. It was one of the largest buildings in the city, but not too tall. It was a symbol of Neo Tyr's power, and a symbol the people needed now more than ever.

---

Across the sea, Dart raised an eyebrow. "An insurgency? Damn, you outlanders must be stupid-" He cut himself off.

"Fine. Get me to Easterling, then," he finished with a red face and an angry disposition.

The streets of Easterling had probably changed a little since the Princess had last been there. Despite the occupation being fairly low key, there were still Dyellian armoured vehicles hanging around, as well as the odd band of drunk soldiers, and in one instance, one man with a particularly good baritone voice, trying to serenade a local girl over the jeers and cat-calls of several other men and women from his platoon.

The car though turned out to be reliable (at least across Easterling) and with fairly good handling characteristics and acceleration. It was noisy and polluting and only had a fabric roof, but was built to be driven offroad through the deserts of Dyelli Beybi, keeping up with fast moving armoured columns. The streets of Easterling were a walk in the park in comparrison.

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Baldwin frowned looking a little puzzled, "No I'm not an aircraft engineer... oh, does Dyelli Beybi inspect these? Yeah of course."

Slowly the plane was taxiing towards the dock, "The plan, well from what I can work out, the plan is to rendezvous with the local Dyellian garrison commander and get some orders through him. You of course will be free to go your own way, but I suspect you'll probably be asked to help get the country back on track."

Secretly Baldwin had used to plane's radio to communicate ahead of time with the Easterling Cheka, asking for info on Kajar. She liked him, but wanted to be sure he could be trusted, "So tell me sbout yourself, Mr Kajar, we seem to have a few minutes to spare, I must admit I'm curious."

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Dzerzhinsky simply smiled, leaving a long pause, "Stupid enough to insult someone who has organised the deaths of several thousand members of the nobility?"

He continued as if he hadn't spoken, "We can get you into Easterling, yes, if, however I find an insurgency suddenly springing into life in what is a mostly happy city, you will sadly have forced me to grant you redundency. I'm not going to allow anything or anyone to jeopardise potential future good relations with Dyelli Beybi. I've put too much effort into this project."

"Anyway." Dzerzhinsky smiled pleasantly, "Unless you have any more questions you may be on your way. There will be a fying boat in the harbour for your convenience."

(OOC: Pardon my fluid time Felix Dzerzhinsky entered another thread before retiring from this one :P)

OOC: In Naval terms how long would it take to get from Kyrall to Easterling? In NS time if possible.

OOC: I don't know too much about NS time yet, but Kyrall and Easterling aren't too far away. Probably a few hours.

IC: Kajar put his hand through his hair. "Oh, me? Hmm... well, I'm a policeman, most important one in Neo Tyr. I'm a member of house Kajar, so that makes me a noble. I'm 28, so I suppose I'm still somewhat young-"

His assistant perked his head up. "Need me, sir?" He asked eagerly.

Kajar waved him off. "No, Young. Anyway, I've done well in my career. I wanted to prove I could be promoted on grounds outside my family's influence. I've a pretty good record, except in the prevention and prosecution of abolitionists," he said with a little frown.

He stopped and thought for a moment, "I like rifles. I'm a pretty good shot, as you saw," He said with a sly grin, "I also like polo. You've ever seen in Dyelli Beyabi?" He asked the Commissar.

---

Marimeta quickly made her way through the Easterling Government Building with little delay. He hair was back up, her distant frown which characterized her private life replaced with a neutral gaze of her political look. She was now the monarch, not the refugee. She had little hinder, her fast pace made a tacit statement that she did not wish to be stopped. The employees would stop what they were doing when they saw her and whisper amongst themselves. Some were disdainful. They had little trust in their government right now. But they trusted them a hell lot more than they trusted the Klatichans, and that was what was keeping the country together.

She reached the governor’s office and entered without knocking. The main reason is because she personally enjoyed surprising people with her presence, and have them stand and say, 'Well now! What brings me this honor, m'lady?'. But with Levbo, that was not the case. He was collapsed on his desk. There were two empty bottles on it, the normal stacks of paperwork were thrown on the floor, along with his office supplies. His hand was over his face, and he was making an odd gasping sound. Without looking, he greeted the Princess with a cold, "My daughter is dead."

Marimeta turned quickly and left the room. A tragedy. Levbo had lost his last child. Marimeta really couldn't comprehend the feelings he had, as she was very young when her family was killed. However, there were several rumors that his daughter, his last of four children, was the last thing keeping him going. One of the Rose agents turned to the Princess. "Is there a problem, your lordship?"

The paling girl shook her head. "I... I'm not feeling to good right now. I think I'd like a long bath." She said slowly.

The Rose agent nodded. "Of course, my lady. We will escort you to the Royal Quarters at once."

And that was that. The Princess left the governor to mourn. One among millions. She felt sick. It was all her fault. If she only stood up for what she believed in, if she only had not given into the demands of that monster- Richard, none of this would have happened. It would have been a normal day in a normal month of a normal year. But instead, the country was quickly losing it's first world status, the civilian deathcount was upped by a million in Kyrall, and Neo Tyr was on the verge of ruin. That was a lot of weight for a seventeen-year-old girl to bear.

---

Elsewhere, Grant Dart was about to formulate a witty response to the damn pompous Commissar, but thought better of it. He was quickly losing his patience with the stupid Commissar, the stupid Checka, and the whole damn stupid country. He just wanted to go home. "Fine. I'll be on my way then. I assume I'll be given some sort of an escort?", he asked with a suprizeing layer of accusation in his voice.

---

Damian Haart was still following this girl he knew nothing about, in a country he knew nothing about, and most likely would be lead to his death, or so he thought. Meanwhile, Lance Vassal was staring at the roof at his cell, admiring the amount of effort it takes to etch a rather nasty profanity in the metal ceiling of a ship. Whoever had done it must have had a lot of time on his hands.

"They used to play polo back in the old days, before the revolution. Sadly, for the sport, most of the polo players were on the losing side."

What she was trying to say was that polo had been strictly a game for the aristocracy, who were mostly 6 feet under. She didn't mention that in certain circles it had been played with a serf's head, she didn't want to spoil the good mood.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, the plane actually made contact with the dock. Another young woman in Commisaar's uniform, who looked little more than a teenager, and clearly in a bad mood was waiting for them on the other side, "That's Chlarissa Dashwood." Baldwin explained, her voice lowered to a whisper despite the fact that there was no chance the other Commisaar could hear with the door still closed.

"She's in and out of the Chief Constable's office all the time, and nobody really knows why. She's important anyway."

Alexia Baldwin was only a liaison officer with the Metropolitan Police, and was somewhat in awe of the Commissars who got the secret missions.

The door hissed open, and a gang plank was run between the dock and the plane door. Baldwin was first off, beckoning Kajar to follow. The Commisaar on the docks eyed her up and down, focusing mostly on her shoulder, "Ah Inspector, is the senior Chief Inspector on this plane or am I going to have to wait for another one to pull up?"

"No Ma'am, he's on there, he'll be off in a minute."

Dashwood's eyes rested on Kajar for a moment, "Your fraternisation pass is still pending a full investigation Commisaar."

For some reason this caused Baldwin to blush as her superior continued, now effectively ignoring her, "You would be Lord Ross Kajar?" it seemed the plane's radio had been very busy, "Do you have property on this island? We're running very low on billets, especially with the refugees due at the docks this evening. I think most of these lot will be left dosing down on the floor of car park buildings."

Dashwood was one of the senior Cheka agents in Easterling, and had found it completely impossible to 'take a break', and had reported to the local Cheka offices no more than ten minutes after speaking with Cooper.

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Back in Cyro Dzerzhinsky gave Dart a puzzled look, "An escort? Not unless you want one. We were planning to just fly you straight to Easterling, but if you require one I'm sure we can drum up some police officers."

It was vaguely ironic that Dart should think Dzerzhinsky pompous, the exact same opinion of Dart was being formed by the senior Commisaar who was beginning to doubt whether it would be better to kill him and blame it on someone else. Too risky, it might get traced back to him, even so he was bitterly disappointed that Dart was still so damned truculent, and so useless for Dzerzhinsky’s purpose, it was like trying to move a rook only to discover your rook had secretly been exchanged for a pawn.

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Away in Easterling the first ships pulled out of harbour with their cargoes of refugees to be replaced by more. It would take over a day to fully load all the ships the Dyellians had sent, as well as to make sure nobody took a weapon onboard. Even if they were granting armistice to insurgents, they weren't stupid enough to let them take their guns with them.

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four and a Half years earlier, farmland just South of Bath.

(OOC: Seems I just couldn't let the Tzarist world die. I'm going to write a several part story to back up something I'm going to bring in later. Needless to say this is ALL OOC knowledge.)

Part 1 - Baldwin's Company

Lady Alexia ap Adam, was the daughter of the Countess of York and the Northern Bounds, and hap up until recently believed herself to be the daughter of the Earl of York and the Northern bounds. Her mother though, who she was convinced was completely stupid, had revealed all to her father in one of the blazing rows that characterised the marriage, and now she and her mother were here, in a little manor house, amongst several acres of well watered gardens, deep in the Dyellian heartland, where it never rained, but where water was piped from the river to give life to the land, land that in turn provided food, giving life to the people.

She had expected, ever since she'd found herself banished down here with her mother, that something like this would happen. A white unmarked van pulled up outside, three rough looking men wearing suits and carrying AKs leaped off the back, another man was still sitting at the wheel. None of them looked up and saw the girl watching them from the windows. Quietly she went and sat down. She looked at her watch 12.48 pm, June the 28th. She was 18 years old. Outside she could hear the shrill voice of her mother raised in protest.

The news had been big over the past week. Nuclear strike launched at the Drakonian Imperium. Possible invasion, possible nuclear reprisals. A gunshot sounded, and her heart lurched in her chest. Moments later the door burst open, one of the men from the van was there, "By order of the Crown I arrest you on charges of Spreading False Rumours regarding his Royal Highness, Tzar Richard the eighth."

Two other men had entered, they grabbed Alexia by the shoulders, frog marching her out of the room she had been and down the stairs. Her mother lay where she'd been shot, the carpet on the stairs died crimson by her blood and brains, a massive rent in her forehead, marking the passage of the bullet. Alexia was too stunned to cry, she supposed she ought to, but she knew she'd be next. Some of the servants had gathered, watching the affair silently, "She died resisting arrest." the man who had arrested her declared, "Her daughter, for crimes against the Nation will be sent to Cyro corrections facility. Let this be a lesson to all who would slander the name of good Tzar Richard. Long live the Tzar!"

"Long live the Tzar!" came the chorus, nobody dared to voice an opinion otherwise, apart from Alexia who was still too stunned, it earned her a vicious backhand, splitting her lip open.

"A Republican too. Get her in the van."

Alexia remained mute throughout the van ride. The driver was listening to the radio news, "Turn that off." the man who seemed to be in charge snarled, "Panic mongers, I don't see why the Tzar allows them to continue broadcasting their doom and gloom drivel."

Breaking news just in, at one o'clock today...

The radio cut out. What she had just missed was the broadcast that had rocked Dyelli Beybi to the core. The journey took just under two hours. One of the guards was unashamedly staring at her breasts, but she was beyond caring. Her mother was dead, her father was probably at least partially responsible, and she couldn't even shed a tear.

The car stopped. This wasn't Cyro. It was a rocky patch of wilderness right on the river's edge, she had seen this place from a ferry some years earlier, it was unmistakeable, the aptly name 'Cliff'. For most of the River Djel, the river was broad with a pain on other sides that used to flood regularly every year, before they'd put the dam in upstream. However in this one point the rock was different, forming a steep cliff over the river that ran for around 500 metres before gently falling back down to the plains. It was the only cliff beside the river, there wasn't even a similar cliff on the other side, and stood maybe thirty metres above the surrounding countryside, "This is the end of the line Princess." the leader sneered.

One of the others roughly shoved her out of the van, kicking her until she stood up again, "Now walk to the edge of the Cliff." she heard the click of a gun being cocked, and didn't care.

They were going to avoid the hard work, get her to walk to the edge, then shoot her there, where she'd fall straight into the water and to the waiting crocodiles who would rather efficiently dispose of the evidence.

"Ah boss?"

"What?" the leader demanded angrily.

"Well she's a nice bit of meat, OK she is nobility, but I mean, let us have our fun first, then kill her."

"No." the leader snapped, "Not this one, we're not to touch that bloodline.... is there any reason you've stopped walking b!4(h?"

Alexia walked forward, muttering a prayer for her immortal soul under her breath. She reached the edge of the Cliff, she closed her eyes, and a gunshot rang out, then another, and another, until head seemed filled with the sound of gunfire. She sank to her knees...

"Are you alright Comrade?" someone touched her on the shoulder.

Alexia opened her eyes, "Am I in paradise?" this looked suspiciously like she was still at the top of the Cliff.

The owner of the new voice laughed, "Not yet Comrade, although in time we will build it here."

She turned, and was staring into the chest of a civilian greatcoat. Someone had rather clumsily stitched a red star to the jacket pocket, "Do you have a name Comrade?"

"Alexia." she didn't mention her surname, she suspected these people didn't like the nobility, and suddenly being alive seemed a whole lot more appealing.

The man with the greatcoat knelt down beside her, "By your dress a noble yes? But hated by the Tzar, and executed on the cliff, so a noble no longer. As the old expression goes my enemy's enemy is my friend."

He smiled warmly, "We heard the van while we were passing and knew what this place was used for, so thought we'd stop by. Still you were incredibly lucky, perhaps God still has a purpose for you?"

They must have sneaked up through the long grass, she guessed, "Who are you and where are you going?"

"Have you not heard?" the man gave her a mocking shocked look, "The Tzar is dead, the revolution has started. Cyro burns and Bath has already fallen. I am Kapitan Baldwin, and I'm talking my Company to Bath."

Alexia looked properly at Baldwin's company for the first time. They were a rag tag lot, most looked somewhat malnourished, serfs she guessed, although Baldwin had the look of a Yeoman, "We lost one Comrade Adam Book in this little skirmish, so it seems the Company is in need of someone else. Will you join us?"

Alexia nodded, still really in no mood to speak, someone gave her a greatcoat with a bullet hole in the breast and someone else's blood on it. A steel helmet and a bolt action rifle with a very limited number of bullets completed her kit.

That day Alexia ap Adam joined the Revolution by a strange coincidence of fate, the revolution that would otherwise have killed her, and with the rest of Baldwin's company, marched North, to war. That night, lying in a field with the stars for a ceiling, the tears found her.

Kajar was very pleased to leave the plane and step on solid ground. He stretched in the sunlight, even if it was cold outside, and a made a mental promise to himself he'd never get on that crazy flying boat again. When he met Dashwood he was surprised someone so... young could be so important to these outlanders. Nevertheless, he greeted her politely and gave a quick bow. "Yes, I am he. This is a pleasure," He said, as to a common greeting.

"Do I have property? House Kajar owns an estate in the outskirts (Even if the estate WAS the outskirts, essentially being the only part of the island that wasn't urbanized), I suppose we could clear out the gardens and the large rooms for refugees if you could supply the labor. The slaves are in Zed Harbor, you see." His father and elder brother would be fuming now, as it was a cardinal sin in House Kajar to offer any service without milking the person who wanted it for everything they were worth. But Ross was not the normal member of House Kajar.

---

Lord Garithos Trisken was in his base camp in Kyrall. The dust was starting to settle, making the surviving districts seem like an apoctoliptic wasteland. They were in a cleared plaza, tents being set up while Trisken looked over what he had to do. The tent door opened revealing Edward Birmingham, famous police officer and hero to the people. He gave a quick bow to Trisken. "Wanted to see me, my lord?"

Trisken nodded. "Yes, yes... How are the survivors?"

"Cold and thirsty. We're at a dearth of blankets and water. We've already lost some of the very young and old during that cold snap last night." Birmingham replied somberly.

Trisken nodded slowly. "I see. What is your recommendation?"

Birmingham thought for a moment. "I think we need generators for the desalinization plants as soon as possible, my lord. If we don't get the water purified soon..." He trailed off. The end was easy to see.

Trisken returned to his work. "Very well, Birmingham. Get a request to the sand rats as soon as possible."

Birmingham gave a smart salute. "Will do, sir!" He said, leaving the tent to call Easterling to try to get electric generators shipped over, and ones large enough to power the two giant desalinization devices at the south side of the city.

---

"Fine," Dart said bitterly, "I'll let myself out."

With that he stood and started for the door. The sooner he was back home the better. Besides, he didn't like the way that Commissar was looking at him...

(OOC: Hirgizstan, we're RPing this more free-form, an exact travel time is fairly moot, just RP someone leaving and arriving. Please give DB and Neo Tyr a chance to react to any movements though.)

Dashwood visibly stiffened at the mention of slaves. Baldwin had managed to get herself behind her superior and was drawing her finger across her neck and mouthing something that looked a lit like 'Shut up', although it was clear she was worried, not being needlessly rude.

"Unfortunately our labourers expect to be paid." the younger Commisaar replied snidely, "Although I'm sure we can arrange something."

In fact Dashwood hadn't been angling for more room, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if she was fighting very hard to keep her temper under control, "I'll make the necessary arrangements, just give your address to the Inspector here." she waved a hand at Baldwin, her last phrase pronounced through gritted teeth, clearly she wasn't happy.

After grabbing a hapless James Albert, she flounced off again, dragging to unfortunate Assistant Chief Constable with her. Baldwin wiped her brow, although there was no sweat there, giving a wry grin, "Careful mentioning slaves around that one, actually, just don't around any Commisaar, nine out of ten were slaves in the bad old days."

That left an interesting blank concerning her, "Well I had better get looking for a billet, unless of course you know of some place already?"

She gave her most innocent smile, which somehow managed to conspire to make her look anything but.

Secretly she was still waiting for info on Kajar that the Cheka was supposed to be supplying her with. (OOC: Neo Tyr could you OOCly tell me any info the Cheka would be able to dig up on this guy?)

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"Yes fine" Dzerzhinsky seemed to have lost interest in Dart, although a Commisaar was waiting outside the door to escort Dart off the property.

They'd let him loose at the airport, with the flying boat, a pilot and enough fuel to reach Easterling.

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The sand rats in Easterling seemed fairly happy to supply generators, although Trisken was informed it would take them a week and a half to ship them from Cyro. It seemed that Cooper had envisioned moving all of the population of Kyrall to Easterling, although his brain must have been out of order at the time. Cities just didn't like to be crammed with all those extra people, their sanitation systems tended to give out.

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four and a Half years earlier

Part 2 - Bath

How had she come to this?

"Wait for it comrades!" came the sharp bark of an officer.

Alexia risked a peek over the wall, Benjians were streaming down the street in a huge column of Infantry and tanks, it seemed the positions of the 3rd Volunteer Militia Brigade would be trampled under the huge wave of humanity.

"Give them hell!"

The militia came up to a crouch, they were deployed behind a long stone wall, about waist height. Alexia propped her gun on the wall and without properly aiming, fired into the mass of oncoming Benjians, all around her was the crackle of rifle fire. The Baldwin's Company had never received proper guns when they reached Bath - there weren't enough to go around. She dragged the bolt back, ejecting the spent cartridge, before slamming it back in, chambering a new round, she fired again.

The Benjians had been started by the resistance, the first genuine resistance they'd found in Bath after breaking open the main defensive line with a tactical nuclear missile. They ducked for cover, flinging themselves behind their tanks and IFVs as well as whatever natural cover the street provided. A tank shell landed close by on her right, wiping out a whole section of the line. Baldwin dropped down beside her, letting off a well aimed shot at the enemy lines.

Another shell hit, tearing out another mass of defenders, and now the machine guns opened fire as well, pinning the defenders under their steel rain, "Alexia!" The Kapitan yelled above the din of battle, "This is useless, we don't have any anti-tank weapons, we must retreat, follow me!"

She would have too, had not a tank shell hit the very part of the wall they were behind, at exactly that moment. Everything went black...

What returned first was a ringing in her ears, then the world slowly began o resolve itself accompanied by a splitting headache. She tried to move her feet, but couldn't, she realised that the Kapitan had landed on top of her, she was pinned under him, unable to move. Rubble added to that, they seemed to be half in a pile of masonry. She was just beginning to try to push him off when she heard voices.

The accents were odd, they sounded harsh to her ear... Benjians.

"This one surrendered Sir."

Someone sneered, "Strap him to the front of the IFV... then cut his balls off."

The distance echoed with the screams of the hapless prisoner, "Communist scum." someone spat in the dirt near to Alexia's hiding place.

The Kapitan, who seemed to also be coming around, he groaned, and moved above her. He never moved again, someone with a sub machinegun, emptied a few rounds into him, dropping him back onto the girl.

She gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out. White hot pain seared through her leg, one bullet had gone straight through her Commanding Officer, straight into her thigh.

It was possibly the worst afternoon of Alexia's life, lying under a corpse as the blood congealed, as the flies came to feast on the dead. The pain in her thigh never went away, although she was still alive at nightfall, which meant they'd missed the major artery. It was then that she finally found the courage to crawl out from her hiding place.

In the distance, gunfire still echoed. A Dyellian counterattack had thrown the lines into chaos. It was this that allowed her to slip through and find her way to the Bridges across the Djel. The far banks were being fortified. Apparently O'Booze was planning to abandon the West Bank, and try to stem the Benjians at the river. Here she was picked up by a patrol of Regular soldiers with proper uniforms and proper weapons. They carried her to a field hospital, where she was operated on without anaesthetic. There was none. Thankfully, half way through the procedure, Alexia passed out again. For her, the Battle of Bath was over, although it would still rage on for days to come.

OOC: My ships are still off the coast of Kyrall, i'm waiting to see if NG makes a move for Easterling, if he does i'll follow but until then i'll still be off Kyrall. I didn't get into the character RP early enough so i see no reason to post unless NG does, as i got into this as per his request. Anyway, still a good RP.

OOC: Yes, our travel is pretty flexible, so don't worry about it. DB, I could of sworn I sent you a TG wih the info, so check them. I'll resend it if you need my to.

IC: Ross Kajar stiffened a bit as well. He didn’t try to anger the commissar, and noticed she was already in a bad mood. After the angry commissar stormed off, he gave a small sigh. "I see... Pity that." He muttered.

He then straightened out. "I'm not sure where the Dyellens are hold up, you might need to ask around. You can stay at the estate if it need be as well. Excuse me for a moment."

Ross turned to Young. "Young, go call up the Ross family. Tell them I need a ride over. Also get them to bring over White, I'll need to talk to him. Oh, and get them to clear out the great hall and make some room in the gardens."

Young nodded. "Right away, Sir."

Ross nodded and turned to Baldwin. "So, do you have any work to do now? Need to report or anything?"

---

Dart left the room, muttering some nasty words under his breath. These outlanders were so damn suspicious. He gave them his word he wouldn’t jeopardize their precious imperialism, wasn't that good enough for them? Now he had to make it to Easterling. He quietly pondered why Easterling of all places. Plenty of other fine cities across the Archipelago...

OOC: D.B. just assume you can use my hovercraft for your evac operation

Port Olympus The gate had opened up to a decidely dark area. Large slabs of concrete with the expansion gaps filled with towering weeds seemed to be the order of the day.

However, as they approached a light, it became obvious that the concrete ended into a metal wall. Actually the side of a ship. As they neared the stern of the vessle, one could make out a loading facility.

Thousands of standard cargo containers sat waiting to be loaded onto the massive Vrakian built cargo ships. Strangely all were the same redish color with PBHU-(code) painted on the sides in black letters.

Rathal led Haart into the darkness and started to read off the alpha numberic codes on the sides of the crates. "Ah here we are, UT Eight seven G five." She walked over to the end and started to open the crate. Unlike traditional cargo containers, the door opened upwards.

Rathal pulled up the hinged door slightly and pointed that Haart should slide under. Inside of the door was a four foot deep space before a bulkhead made of a metal siding with a long window and door. The door opened to reveal a dark space.

Rathal pulled a green chemical light out into the space. It wasn't filled with cargo, but had walls of finished plywood, a floor of vinal tile, several metal 'boxes' built along the walls, and a series of crates strapped to the floor of the container.

Rathal walked to the center of the 'room' and turned on a small flourecent light sitting on a large crate. It barely lit the space, giving it an eiree, unhealthy glow.

She sat down on the inside of one of the metal boxes and seemed to relax. "Not a four star hotel, but then its free and we get to go strait through customs. Hungry? We have Alconian Shrimp and Rabbit Gumbo, Dyellian Croc Stew artifically flavored of course, and Insta Benji Steaks."

She held up three metalic pouches, obviously they would be eating MRE's for awhile.

****

(OOC: Nope, I havn't recieved a t-gram in the last 10 days except from the 'Compliance Ministry')

"Thanks for the offer." Baldwin sounded genuinely touched, despite the fact she'd fairly obviously been angling for an invitation to the Kajar residence.

She shrugged, at the question as to whether she had anything to do, "Yes, and no. I should report to whoever's in charge of the Cheka, although I have a feeling I just have. I'm more or less free to do whatever I want for the next couple of hours."

In fact Baldwin was planning to send one of the Junior Commisaars to find where the Cheka was based, and avoid all the annoying wandering around town. "I imagine you probably have all manner of important things to do though." she added, politely giving Kajar the opportunity to escape her company.

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Trust was something the Dyellians didn't give away easily, on a bad day, Quentin probably would have shot Dart on the spot and tipped his body off the jetty. Dzerzhinsky was less emotional, and was prepared to give his investment a chance to yield profit.

The tiny float plane took off from Cyro bound for Easterling. The pilot didn't seem interested in talking. A little way into the flight it would become clear this was because the pilot only spoke Korean.

You are watching MNB News

"Good evening.

Bishop Serpens Aldir, leader of the Opposition Conservative Party today called for a motion of censure against the Klatch, claiming that the FKC's actions in continuing to impose a news blackout over Neo-Tyr only meant that the Klatchians "have some dark secret they need hidden from the world".

The motion was defeated by the Government, a representative of which said "we should not be so quick as to condemn them all".

Excuse me a moment..." [The anchor looks to someone off-camera]

"That story later. We've just had a report of several high-level officials arriving at the Palace; this could be the lead-in to the General Election..."

Haart was rather displeased. He was not used to this condition. Back home, he had slaves waiting on his very word while being surrounded by riches, prestige, and public love. But now? Now he was sitting on some ship with the choice of three wonderful seemingly dehydrated rations to choose from. He couldn't help a sigh. "I don't know. You choose." He muttered and curled into a ball. Haart was very tired of this whole charade, and wanted to be home.

---

Juliet Seabrook was sitting in her house in Northreach Isle. Her desk was covered in paperwork, which she was meticulously reading over, getting all the information she could get. A servant entered with a small platter. "You requested some cider, m'lady?" He asked.

Juliet looked up. "Oh, yes. It looks lovely. Set it over there." She said, clearing out a part of her desk.

The servant set the tray down and poured out a glass. "What are you looking at Miss Seabrook."

"Macistani elections," She muttered, "We need the Merchant Alliance to win 'em."

"Why?" The servant inquired.

"They might give us aid. Two other groups have explicitly stated they'll abandon the us, and the other... Well, the haven’t explicitly stated they're leaving us for dead. Now go on about your business."

The servant nodded. "Yes, Miss Seabrook." With that, the servant left, and the Secretary of Foreign Affairs looked over all the recent polls uttering a silent prayer.

---

Dart didn't want to talk either. But at least he was going home. Home... He gazed out the window, wondering on the state of Neo Tyr, and hoping for the best.

---

Kajar sighed. "Yes, yes, but it can wait until tomorrow. All I want know is a warm bath and a soft bed." He said.

Dyelli Beybi as usual was bridling at the comments of the International press. Within two hours of them having aired the Bishop's statement, MNB recieved a letter from Generalmajor Cooper giving them full rights to do whatever they liked in Easterling as well as to deposit a reporter onboard the Lord Fisher. The letter took pains to point out there were absolutely no restrictions in place on the press in Dyelli Beybian occupied territory.

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On the ground in Easterling, Baldwin gave a slight smile, "I know the feeling, but as they say, there is no rest for the wicked, I probably should get looking for the Cheka Headquarters. I might see you around."

That was something that was in very little doubt, she too vanished, leaving Kajar alone with Young on the docks as the remaineder of the Dyellian Police disembarked.

In fact it took Baldwin hardly any time at all to locate the Cheka Headquarters. They were set up one floor down from Cooper, and just about every Dyellian in town knew where they were and how to give directions.

Upon entering the offices, it became clear Baldwin had been right, Commisaar Dashwood had taken charge. She was in fact, just finishing briefing some junior officers, "...we know the Vrakians have him, so search every nook and cranny, then get back to me."

As the group dispersed, the Senior Commisaar caught sight of Baldwin, "Ah, Commisaar Baldwin."

She sounded a lot calmer now, clearly before she'd been rattled, "I wasn't myself before, please relay my apologies onto Lord Kajar if I don't see him first. I know it's not really an excuse but I made a real botch of one of my more recent assignments."

She beckoned Baldwin over to a desk which clearly was now hers, "Please take a seat."

She settled down opposite her, on the other side, "Commisaar Dashwood...." Baldwin began.

"Please." Dashwood held up a hand, smiling in a friendly manner, "We don't need to be so formal, we're not on business, just call me Chlarissa."

"Alexia." Baldwin introduced her first name, although from Dashwood's face, she suspected she already knew.

"Sorry, continue."

"Oh yes." Baldwin was begining to warm to Dashwood, she didn't seem quite as angry as she'd first assumed her to be, "Do we have any places to billet the police from Kyrall."

"Unfortunately not." Dashwood apologised, "We're going to have to ask you to sent up camp in the carpark of this building."

Baldwin nodded, "We'll be fine."

"Good." Dashwood smiled encouragingly, "I have recieved this from Benjia House."

She held up a manila folder marked 'Ross Hemingway Kajar', "I'll go over it tonight, but a preliminary skim suggests he's harmless enough, even so, I wouldn't let him in on your original identity..."

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It wasn't the first time Alexia had heard that phrase. The Battle of Bath had ended, the Benjians had finaly surrendered, and she was told the war was effectively won. Weeks passed, she was up and walking again, although she'd always have that peculiar star shaped scar on her thigh. Commisaars started appearing, and it didn't take a genius to work out what they were up to. They were rooting out Royalists and imprisoning them. Alexia ignored them though, and they ignored her, right up until that fateful evening when she was discharged.

She left the field hospital, intent to wander back to her barracks, instead she wandered straight into a Commisaar, "Sorry Ma'am."

The Commisaar was a strikingly attractive young girl, with sandy hair and blue eyes that didn't seem to miss a blink, "Alexia... ap Adam?"

Alexia froze in horror, "You're under arrest." the Commisaar continued, smiling triumphantly, "You are an enormous catch, nearly as good as getting gold old Prince George himself."

That night was spent in a cell, while others outside debated her fate. As it turned out the Commisaar who had arrested her was named 'Zara Alwood', and it was her who came back, the next day, shaking her head.

She tossed Alexia a bundle of clothing. Military uniform, well nearly, there was blue piping. It was a commisaar's uniform, "Much against my better judgement, it has been decided you're too valuable to execute, you could be a good bargaining chip if the worst comes to the worst."

"More importantly though, you won a medal and that clinched it for you. Now obviously we can't let you wander off without supervision, so you're now a paid member of the Cheka."

"Oh yes, one last thing, we can't have you calling yourself 'ap Adam', that just wouldn't do, do you have any other names you might like to use?"

Alexia thought back on the last weeks, the man who had saved her life twice who now lay burried in an unmarked grave. She realised she didn't even know his first name, "Baldwin. I'll be Baldwin."

"Right." the Commisaar clapped her hands together, "I shoudn't need to tell you, but I wouldn't let anyone in on your original identity..."

(OOC: Er...Macisikan did you get my T.G. reply?)
(OOC: Neo_Tyr shouldn't I have run into slaves or the signs of slaves by now?)

IC:Outer Islands of Neo Tyr
on some of the village islands signs went up informing people that there was going to be a building projects started out on some of neighboring farm islands and wokers were needed. A wage of 5.00 Kr per hour, in gold was offered.

On the local farm islands, Marines began to dig post holes in strait lines up the shore and inland. Into each a post was set and then a large board with a rail attached to the top was secured between the two posts.

Helicopters and landing craft began to deliver large blocks of foam and lengths of wood to the island.

****
She tossed him the gumbo pouch and a bottle of water. "Enjoy Lord Haart, there is a sleeping bag over there in the corner for you. And a DVD player with an analysis of what has been happening in Neo Tyr since you were forced to surrender."

Rathal said nothing more, just let him be. An hour later the container shifted as it was placed aboard one of the container ships. "Next stop, Neo Tyr refugee camp"

OOC: Alconia and Hubris; Yes, I got your TG but our network's been doing weird and wonderful things so it's taken me time to send a reply. Also your TG went to the MNA, who doesn't forward stuff to the Opposition (or anyone else for that matter... the bastards). Also Vrak, as overall Klatchian commander, is still refusing access for international media; the claim that the Klatch as a whole are refusing access is accurate.

IC:
Within an hour of the message being recieved, the MNA sent a reply to the Generalmajor; his offer had been accepted; MNB would be sending a reporter to the Lord Fisher, while others, from MNB, MNN, the Arn-Maciska Times and the Imperial Star would arrive in Easterling. MNA's response thanked the Generalmajor for his offer, but reminded him (respectfully of course) that stories out of Neo-Tyr might be given second priority as the General Elections progressed.

You are watching MNB News

"The International Community Opinion polls tonight indicate moderate support for the Greens and Independents, with the Conservatives trailing badly, while the Imperial Party is doing quite well. Analysts cannot yet predict whether the domestic polls will reflect the international ones..."

(OOC: The elections are here; http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=400997)

OOC:

Also Vrak, as overall Klatchian commander...


The Overal Commander and Chief could be the President. However, King Vrak chose to appoint someone from Jiggady as the Chairman of the Privy Council. Defacto military command has been in the hands of Landgravine Hubris (Heir to the throne of the United Duchies). As they have defacto control of all non-state Klatchian Territory.
The Press Ban by Vrak over Neo Tyr was a paper tiger, only having effect in Vrakian controlled areas.

Also, I had been having an off morning, so I wasn't sure if I had sent the T.G. actually.

OOC: Yes... why? Slaves are, to Tyrinians, a normal part of life and property. They should be working on repairing their homesteads, as the fields aren't planted.

IC: On the outer islands, the farmers weren't overjoyed with the work on their farms. These people were born and raised on these islands, and weren't to fond of changes, especially one form outlanders. Plus, they had to accommodate rich, snobby city-folk. But the gold had been good for them, but they were still hoping the foreigners would leave soon...

The city workers came in droves, but only if they were paid in gold. To them, Kronors were useless. None of the traders in town would take them and there was no way it would ever replace the Drake, at least to them.

---

Haart couldn't believe it. When he was gone his country was invaded, the economy folded into itself, and Kyrall was destroyed. And not only was this terrible outright, it was worse that he wasn't there. He was a noble, a powerful one at that. He had a social obligation to these people. And he had let them all down. He sighed and started on making this 'gumbo'. Never heard of it in Neo Tyr...

---

Kajar left the Ross Family’s car and was at the estate. He turned to his young assistance. "Run along now. You can use the room upstairs."

The driver of the car asked if Kajar would like to be driven the rest of the way, but Kajar turned down the offer. He wanted to walk. There was something odd about how the man talked, his mannerisms too. Kajar was confused until he noticed the driver's wrist. A deep purple mark ringed it. Some things never change... Kajar thought to himself.

Kajar walked down the long driveway to the estate. Although House Kajar technically owned it, it was really only a vacation home. The family that lived in it all year was the Ross family. They were old, old allies to House Kajar and although they were rich and powerful, they weren't noble. But they were still very popular around Easterling as they gave large alms to the poor and were at the head of several charities. Also, they were abolitionists, and illegally freed slaves. Ross Kajar should've turned them in ages ago, but they were good to House Kajar.

The estate itself was huge. The ancient building contained many rooms and countless heirlooms. Surrounding it were the largest gardens in Neo Tyr, fountains and statues of the Kajar clan complimented the array of exotic and domestic trees and flowers. It was impressive in winter, and gorgeous in summer. Already people were clearing out portions of it. Kajar reached the door, was greeted in a very friendly manner by an elderly man, and went inside.

Evening in Easterling found Cooper working on getting static defences sorted, in the morning he'd meet with the Princess, and whatever other nobles he could sum up, he needed to get the situation sorted. He retired around 11, thoroughly exhausted.

Chlarissa Dashwood, who hated not being busy (it brought the memories back) stayed up longer, taking on tasks that really ought to have been done by her subordinates. Commisaar Baldwin dominated much of her thoughts (when they weren't brooding over Lance Vassal's arrest), she liked the other woman, who wasn't much older than herself, but knew full well who she really was, and wasn't quite sure whether to trust her or not. Dyelli Beybi was a fragile country, and that woman had the potential to destroy it. Eventually she approved her request, sometimes you just had to trust the people on your side. She slept on a couch in the office, and dreamed of buildings exploding in a faraway jungle and of a soldier with his skull crushed by a flying piece of masonry.

Baldwin herself ended up sleeping in an underground parking lot on a fairly standard military bedroll. She decided not to bother Lord Kajar who she was becoming inexplicably shy around (at least by her standards). She slept badly and would have a dreadfully sore back in the morning.

All through the night, the Cheka searched to pinpoint Lance Vassal's exact location, while the first Dyellian military vessels, arrived to disgorge refugees. They would steam in and out all through the next few days, only stopping for fresh petrol, and bringing with them the problems of overcrowding and the potential threat of former insurgents, who, much against the Cheka's advice, Cooper had decided to issue amnesty to, and to allow into Easterling. Cooper had argued that the Neo Tyrans were an honourable people, the more cynical Cheka had argued that you couldn't trust anyone. In the end Cooper was in charge.

The next day would bring all sorts of new developments, not least of which was that Grant Dart's plane would be arriving...

Juliet Seabrook was sitting in her house in Northreach Isle. Her desk was covered in paperwork, which she was meticulously reading over, getting all the information she could get. A servant entered with a small platter. "You requested some cider, m'lady?" He asked.

Juliet looked up. "Oh, yes. It looks lovely. Set it over there." She said, clearing out a part of her desk.

The servant set the tray down and poured out a glass. "What are you looking at Miss Seabrook."

"Macistani elections," She muttered, "We need the Merchant Alliance to win 'em."

"Why?" The servant inquired.


"They might give us aid. Two other groups have explicitly stated they'll abandon the us, and the other... Well, the haven’t explicitly stated they're leaving us for dead. Now go on about your business."

The servant nodded. "Yes, Miss Seabrook." With that, the servant left, and the Secretary of Foreign Affairs looked over all the recent polls uttering a silent prayer.


OOC: Sorry for godmodding a bit with your character Neo. If you don't like me doing it, I'll edit it out.

IC:
A servant entered Juliet's Office again.
"M'lady?"
"Mmm...?" Seabrook replied without looking up from her work.
"Have you seen the latest broadcast out of Macisikan?"
"No... has some thing happened?"
"You could say that m'lady..."
"Well, go on, turn it on."
"Yes, m'lady," the servant said, softly walking across the carpet.

The room's TV flickered on, just in time to catch the final words of a distinguished-looking older man.

"...and therefore it pleases His Imperial Royal Majesty to invite the Imperial Party to form a government in the House of Representatives, in coalition with the Greens, and several independents. God Save the King-Emperor!"

[another voice, that of a minor functionary, cut in]
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Her Highness, First Minister Elgiva deMa'iska, will appear in a few minutes to make her official acceptance of the results, and present the Imperial Party's Leader in the House."

Cut back to the anchor
"Just recapping. The final results of the General Elections are in, only partially reflecting the international poll.

"The Imperial Party, just shy of securing government in their own right has received 47.2% of the vote, securing 283 seats.

"Their partners in the coalition, The Greens, secured 16.5% of the vote, giving that party 99 seats.

"The Merchants' Alliance received 19.8% of the vote, making that party, with 119 seats, the largest non-government party in the 600 seat chamber.

"14.5% of the vote has elected independent representatives, a total of 87 members, 32 of which have joined the government benches, 19 have indicated they shall sit with the Merchants' Alliance, while the remainder will stay non-aligned.

"The Conservative Party performed dismally, only getting 2% of the vote, giving them a bare 12 seats; the Conservatives have been forced to cede the position of Opposition in the Representatives to the Merchants' Alliance.

"This means that the deMa'iska Government now holds a majority in all three houses of parliament, the first government to do so since 1831..."

For reasons beyond mortal comprehension, God had not seen fit to grant Juliet Seabrook's request, instead listening to Her Highness, Elgiva deMa'iska, Duchess of Maciska, and First Minister of the Holy Imperial Kingdom of Macisikan, who had prayed for victory...
But had deMa'iska heard the cries of the Tyrnians?
More importantly, would she heed them?

Ross Kajar was driving to some meeting he was invited to by the Princess herself. He was rather tired, as he was up late with the Ross family in the estate chatting, joking, drinking, and generally entertaining until the wee hours of the night. The family was closer to Kajar than his own family was, and he saw the eldest member, Lucius (Agrippa among friends) as far more of a father figure than the current House Father of Great House Kajar. He then addressed a refugee group and told them the insurgency was a crime against them people of Neo Tyr. He met with Ronald White, police chief of Easterling to be filled in on the state of the city. He wondered what this meeting had to offer.

Cicero Vassal, eldest of the Vassal brothers, was already in the meetingplace of the conference, the Easterling Council Chambers. He looked a lot like his brother, the family resemblance was strong. However, he was older, his features had matured and he lacked his brothers optimistic disposition, he was at the moment looking pretty bored. He would represent Great House Vassal.

Marimeta Cicily Llamanian was there as well. She had returned to her duties, donned in the white state dress of Neo Tyr and her hair put up. She sat with an air of dignity, her emotionless face not conveying the emotional maelstrom inside of her. Not only did millions die, Raash DuVaul was one of them. He had sacrificed his life to save other’s. But Marimeta lost the only man she could look up to and truly ask for guidance. Now, sans Lance Vassal, she was alone. But these were thoughts for another time, as now it was time for diplomacy.

Damain Haart was on a ship heading eastward. He didn’t talk to the girl, nor did he really want to. He was just waiting to get home. Why these outlanders were going out of their way to deliver him to the Archipelago was beyond Haart, however. Perhaps they wanted a large ransom. If that was the case, House Haart had huge amounts of money to save their leading member. Money makes the world go ‘round, as they say, and if that is the case House Haart’s fortunes certainly aided the world’s turn.

Grant Dart was looking out the plane window. He was over the Archipelago now. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw the jungles of Sarcobess, but the smile turned to a scowl when he saw the deforestation and the Germinian sea base on the coast. These outlanders had no respect for Tyrinian customs. He had to question the strategic advantage of making a base in the Viridian Archipelago, though, as there weren’t any other real counties nearby. Nothing to truly monitor. Plus it would cost a fortune to keep it up when summer his and the frozen ground would turn to mud. He shrugged and turned to sea Easterling coming up.
((OOC: DB, mind speeding the landing, travels, etc, of Dart so he makes it to the meeting?))

Lance Vassal was brushing his teeth. Even if one was captured in his own home country, it gave them no excuse to live like a pig. He wondered how much longer he’d be stuck on this ship, though. He was a noble, his brothers and father should have bailed him out by now, and they had the money. Well, in retrospect, his brothers would leave him to rot, but he was father’s favorite. Lance’s father would get him off this ship. Lance had to wonder the state of his father’s health, though. The old man was dying when he left to the Klatch, but the doctors said he had time. Hopefully he’d still be alive when Lance came home…

Juliet Seabrook was very, very angry. The Merchant Alliance had lost. The Greens had shared in the victory. And so, the millions of clod, thirsty, hungry refugees would gain no aid from the ‘Holy Kingdom’. She asked her servant to get her something smothered in chocolate (A rather expensive commodity in Neo Tyr) and leave her alone. She stood and looked over the snow covered pine forest on the estate. This was a especially cold winter, and it looked to be a long one as well.

The Outer Islands
Those who inquired found out that the jobs were being paid for in gold krondor coins. When asked about Drakes, there was a sort of shrug. "This is being paid for by the Grand Duke of Alcona, he doesn't have any gold Drakes to pay you with." Was the general reply.

Those that signed up to work were transported each day out to the 'assembly' islands. On the first day the workers were informed of what they were doing. "It seems that those twits in Kyrall don't want to leave the remains of their island. As such were trying to coordinate additional housing on floating platforms around Kyrall. You are going to build the floating platforms, some day in the future children will ask if you helped the people of Kyrall in their hour of need. I hope that you will all be proud of the work you will do here in the comming weeks..."

Yes, it was a bit strange being given a pep talk from an Alconian Officer. But they were trying their best to be seen as the facilitators of Tyrians saving Tyrians. Ignoring the fact that allmost all of the housing units had been built in Cross Harbor.

****
In one of those insta-housing units, on a container ship north of Neo Tyr, sat Lord Haart and his rescuer. She had let him sulk for a couple of days, primarily to allow herself to sleep. Finally stepping out of the chemical toilet/bath built in at the back of the container she looked at Haart in the artifical glow of the flourecent light and then sniffed.

"Well Lord Haart, perhaps it is time I told you what I, and my orginization wants from you and what we are willing to give you in return. You see, I am a Hubarian." She stood and looked into the dark shadows of the space. "We were a proud, independent nation with goals and dreams. Much like Neo Tyr. And like Neo Tyr we were forced to capitulate to a foreign invader, the jackboot marines of the Dukes of Alcona. Today my island home is enslaved to those pigs, and suffers daily at their slights. Our great buildings suffer ruin, our cultural institutions robbed of their birth right. We have the slut of a common mercenary foisted upon us as true nobility."

She paused, looking down at him. "Hubiris desires her freedom again, Lord Haart. Freedom from the debauched mess that is the Klatchian Federation, freedom from the armed thugs led by those commoners who have foisted titles of nobility upon themselves. What we want is Neo Tyr's help. Yes, I know that you presently are under the shackles of the Federation yourself. But your people still desire independence. They have not been broken yet by the yoke of the oppressor."

She started to pace in the small space between the pallets on the floor and the walls of the space. "The Neo Tyrians are fighting back, and with our help buying outside weapons and supplies, you can throw them off." She sat down on her knees across from Haart. "But your nation faces its greatest threat yet, the Dyellians through their Checka are attempting to force your nation to become a member republic. To be swallowed whole into the socialist dictatorship of Dyelli Beybi." She stopped and leaned back against the wall.

"Have you ever wondered Lord Haart, why the Tzarist revolution you supported only had traction on an island that has been Dyellian Territory less than four years? An island which would not have easy access itself to the shore because of the pre existing shore defenses? Hell if you were going to start a revolution on that blasted island, why not in the City of Fasta, with it's nice large port and far easier to defend position." She pulled the DVD player towards her and changed the DVD.

"Simple Lord Haart, the Checka knew it would loose. Because the Checka created it. These are the same people who worked for the Tzars as their secret police. Smiled at their betters and plotted. Then one day, the Tzar's brains are splattered all over some hunting land, and the nobles are being fed to the aligators."

The DVD showed several maps of Dyelli Beybi as it expanded. First New Dyelli as Vrak and Dyelli Bebybi split Evil into two. Then the massive invasion and formation of the northern province, and then the invasion of East Benji. "As you can see they have been buisly little expansionists and now they want Neo Tyr. Why, were not sure. Maybe Otto Himmler and Felix want a nice vacation spot."

She looked at him,
"The Checka will act as freinds of the Great House of Neo Tyr. Act respectable, compliment you, treat you with the dignity of your birth. But the moment they have worked themselves into every critical position, or made those in such postions their pawns, you, your family and your fellow Great Houses, will be extinct in a heart beat. Your family won't be completely forgotten. I'm sure your family heirlooms will be used to refurnish Checka Headquarters in Cyro."

****
The four anntenna ships began to deploy around the Neo Tyr achipellago. As they raised their anntenna towers up into the sky, they began to broadcast on the same frequency as a Kyrall T.V. station that had been destroyed by the collapse.

It wasn't Klatchian T.V. being broadcast, but an english version of Knootian News International intersperesed with Cartoons. It was a bit weird, with no obvious source or message. Whatever the Klatchians were up to it wasn't normal. However, KNI did report on the assaination attempt of the Privy Council of the Federated Klatchian Coast by Lord Haart in his daring, and so far succesful escape from a P.O.W camp.
In general it was noted by the Knootian commenters that International Law made it the members of the Privy Council fair game for an enemy attack. And Haart was well within his rights to try and decapitate the command structure of the occuping forces in his nation. After all no real peace treaty had been signed by Neo Tyr and the FKC.

Dart's plane touched down with the usual violent landing that people who had traveled by Dyelliflot flying boats a few times, came to expect. He was allocated a vague looking driver, with a half smoked cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Without much fuss at all, and absolutely no explanation as to where they were going, the driver took off in one of the military 4x4s the Dyellians used as staff cars, delivering Dart to the front of the Governor's Palace, "There's a meeting inside, they probably want you in there... Good luck and all that."

The driver took off down the road, without any explanation as to what the meeting was, or who was attending.

Outside the door there were four Dyellian guards... sitting on the ground in a circle, playing cards, and a couple of women with the unmistakeable blue piping on their greatcoats which marked them as Cheka. These two seemed to be involved in a frivolous conversation of some description. All the soldiers were wrapped up like they were in Siberia. They were from the 1st Republican Army, which was recruited from the Djellian populations near the South Coast, and Southern Dyelli Beybi was hot all the time.

The two Commisaars would turn out to be Chlarissa Dashwood and Alexia Baldwin, who were fast becoming close friends, both seeing in the other someone who through an accident of birth had really had no choice but to join the Cheka once the Revolution hit town. Both would also have died within the year had the Tzar continued to reign. One of the pair nodded amicably towards Dart (having no idea who he was) before resuming the conversation where she'd left off.

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

Inside Cooper had just arrived, carrying a folder full of notes he wouldn't need, "Your Highness, Lords Vassal and Kajar. It is an enormous honour to be in the position to negotiate with your people."

He hadn't met Kajar or Vassal before, but evidently had been briefed as to what they looked like, "Now I know you all have very busy lives, and it is with enormous gratitude that I thank you for being here."

He seated himself, opposite them, sliding a piece of paper across the table, to each in turn, "This is my proposition to ensure that we gain control of Neo Tyr, and it doesn't end up as the Imperialistic holdings of North Germania, Midlonia, Vrak or Hirgizstan. Please feel free to criticise it, it's only a working draft I drew up yesterday."

His proposition was all layed out on the paper. In a nutshell. A volunteer force of Neo Tyr citizens, led by a prominant Neo Tyr nobleman, and backed up by attachments of Panzergrenadiers from the 1st Replublican Army would be formed. The Dyellians would arm and supply it if necessary. It would then hop from island to island, leaving a sizeable Neo Tyr militia force, with a token Dyelli Beybian contingent to safeguard each island. The Dyellians would be there so that the Klatchians couldn't accuse any island of being run by insurgents. Whichever Neo Tyran ended up in charge, would be the Commander in Chief of both contingents, a Neo Tyran would also command each garrison, however Grossadmiral von Scheer reserved the right to pull out the Panzergrenadiers (and cut off the supplies to the Neo Tyran militia) if he thought the Neo Tyrans weren't playing straight with him.

Marimeta looked over the notes. A plan she normally wouldn’t have wanted, but would accept anyway. Kajar read them and frowned slightly. Neo Tyr had a great police system, but none of the outlanders wanted to utilize it. A pity. Vassal gave a cursory glance over the document. As long as it didn’t hurt him he was fine with it. Marimeta was about to speak when the doors flew open and a rather sullen Grant Dart entered. He wasn’t pleased how the Dyellians were strutting around like they owned the island. “I’m here.” He said.

Marimeta, a bit taken back looked to him. “Oh? Mr. Dart. A pleasure, to be sure. Take the Governor’s seat. Mr. Levbo won’t be able to join us.” She said, directing the last sentence to Copper.

Cicero then spoke out. “So Commissar, what do you want in return for all of this?”
---

The Tyrinians were rather picky and choosy about what they trusted from KIN. Good stories were heartily accepted, especially the one about Haart. It was a good image that the House Father of one of the most prominent political powers wasn't just sitting back and accepting the invasion. But anything bag or even neutral was dismissed as evil propaganda and should not be listened to.

---

The farmers of the outer islands were ready to make these floating platforms, if only for gold. It would remind a few of them of Goldonos, where the housing extended far into the sea, creating a maze of canals. Also, Drakes were not gold, but were far more trusted than these 'Kronors'. Not much use for them, no one in town would take them.

---

Haart listened to his female counterpart. He took in what she had to say, but with a grain of salt. ‘Trust no one’
Was starting to become is motto. While she was perhaps better than the Klatch’s government, she still was an outlander and an outlander hoping to use him to achieve her own ends. However, she was all he had right now, so he had to make due with what he had. “Hmm… What I don’t understand is their motives. The occupation has gone to hell, so it seems. If they’re in it for land, I don’t see the point. We’re isolated, expensive to maintain and protect and if their looking for labor there are a plethora of other less developed nations which would cost much less to ship from. There’s just no point.”

Haart thought for a moment. “So these ‘Checka’ were going to try to destroy the houses? That just putting a big target that screams ‘Civilian Revolt, Quagmire Occupation, MANHUNTER Mobilize’. But it can’t hurt to put more caution in the families. House Haart has survived for over 500 years, and I’m sure as hell not going to let some outland fools end it…”

“But first, do you really think an armed militia could take down the Klatch. Sure, there’s plenty of zeal, but zeal can accomplish only so much. Even our soldiers never thought they’d actually see battle and have training which is nothing compared to the tools the Klatch has up it’s sleeve, I’d assume. The navy and airforce have probably been confiscated already, and the airforce is what we did best in.”

“Also, what do you want from us? Liberation? That would be a long term effort, a long term effort indeed.”

He stood and tapped his foot. “How far are we from the Archipelago?” He asked.

OOC: Neo, check your TG's.

IC:
You are watching MNB News

"... further expansion in this area.

Tribune-Elect Paingi Giovanno of the Imperial Party today aired a proposal for a Private Member's Bill calling for a re-evaluation of Imperial Commitments in Humanitarian Efforts, particularly with regards to Neo Tyr. In his speech Tribune-Elect Giovanno stressed that this was merely a proposal to increase commitments in this area as a, quote "last hurrah".

The Government has refused comment on the matter, while the Opposition Merchant Alliance has stated that any support on their part requires a Tyrnian request for aid.

Now for the weather..."

OOC: We are giving them gold krondor coins. So they can accept it at metal value rather than say the value of a normal krondor.

****
Rathal nodded, "The reason the klatchians wanted Neo Tyr had more to do with their major enemy the Drakonians and making an example of you. They wanted a Naval Base far south to present a threat against Drakonian supply lines if they decided to invade."

"There have also been several acts of interference by outsiders against the Klatch in the past few years. That has slowly turned up the anger of the Klatch, and the Vrakian King. The Federation decided Neo Tyr should be made an example of and so they invaded." She paused again, focusing on Haart again.

"Not all Klatchian states desired that outcome, my sources indicate that the Klatchians and Ilek-Vaad attempted some last minute...er...negotations. All offers were soundly rejected by the Lord Protector...or whatever his title was."

She paused for a moment and shifted her seat,

"However, the Klatch has recently had the Nation of New Shiron join. Which effectively presents them with a new problems. New Shiron gives them a far better southern depth in terms of defending against an invasion, but Neo Tyr becomes a major weak spot. In that Neo Tyr is close to the lines of communication between New Shiron and the rest of the Klatch."

She paused to make him realize the situation. "The reason the Deyllians are sticking around is...a bit hard to explain to someone so ignorant of their history. Let's just say their crusader bug has popped back up, and you get to play the role of the slaughtered elves this time. And the Checka are going to be patient about things. Hell they have started to get into bed with the Great Houses...they are going to play a long game on this, not just murder off the families but first weaken you. By the time they decide to make you extinct, they will have the people of Neo Tyr cheering your deaths and whatever government orginizations so throughaly infiltrated that their won't be a peep."

She pulled out a photo and tossed it over to Haart. The picture was a high-rez screen capture of the moment when the Vrakians were taking away Lord Vassel. Vassel and the Princess were both circled in red, the circle in green was over Dashwood.

"I think you can recoginize both Lord Vassel and your Princess. The woman circled in green is a Checka agent we beleive is named Dash...something. However she is there leading them both out of Kyrall before the collapse....the freindly phase has begun."

"As for dealing with the Checka and their masters...force can be applied either bluntly or with precision. Apply a small force in the appropriate leavers and soft points, you will get far more done than that. My sources indicate that most of the Klatchian Forces have decided to pull out of Neo Tyr. Only the Dyellians appear ready to stay."

"Now I suggest you sit down, as neither one of us know when we are going to be delivered into one of the Kyrall refuge camps in this housing unit. I am not onimpitant, as far as I know we may have been redirected to New Shiron or Tanah Berung. Although that is currently unlikely..."

Cooper didn't actually have a Commisaar with him, so decided the comment was probably aimed at him, "Generalmajor actually... I'm not affiliated with the Cheka."

"What's in it for us? Well a clean conscience for a start." he chuckled, that was probably Cooper's prime motivation, but it was unlikely to be the same for his superiors, "At this point it seems likely that Neo Tyr will, willingly or unwillingly be absorbed into the Federation, even without that occuring, it is best for Dyelli Beybi to gain a potential ally while we can. We're not unreasonable people, and while we may not approve of some of your practices, we're not about to try to change things."

That had to be a reference to slavery, "There is a distinct possibility of war within Klatch, in that eventuality, we'd need all the friends we can get. I think I can conclude that by saying, we're ready and willing to give you your country back and rearm your military, but once we're finished we may ask for you to lend us some support... Oh, and I dare say some of the big businesses will be pushing for some kind of trade concessions, probably in crocodile related goods and cut price automobiles."

That was a pretty bog standard Dyellian trade deal. They were always pushing those two industries.

((OOC: I'm leaving on Wednesday for spring break. I'll be back on the eighteenth))

Juliet Seabrook, Secretary of Foreign Affairs, officially declared Kyrall as a 'disaster zone’; a term never used before in Tyrinian history. In her report, she stated that without blankets, food, water, medical supplies and various other commodities that the death toll in Kyrall could continue to rise by several hundred thousand. She also released a formal announcement to any and all nations that would be willing to donate aid claiming '(aid) was needed more than it ever has been'. It was clear by the way the letter was composed that the once proud nation was very desperate.

---

The now gaunt Lord Haart listened to Rathal's words. Yes, Neo Tyr had little tactical advantage now. The barren halo prevented fleets from quickly entering and exiting the Archipelago. There weren’t any real threats nearby. Plus, the natives carried abhorrence towards the outlanders which was greater than any other hatred they Tyrinians had ever harbored.

The whole idea that these Cheka were creeping into the government disturbed him. This was his land, not theirs. If they were trying to get their filthy claws in the government they'd have to bypass Great Houses Haart and Hemlock first. House Haart had been warned, and Hemlock disliked outlanders even more than the average citizen. These two groups alone had quite the amount of power in Neo Tyr, yet he could NOT underestimate the Cheka. It would be interesting to see which faction would win.

After looking at the picture, he nodded slowly. "Yes... there's Lamanian... and that's defiantly Lancerow. Surprising, I thought he was dead." He muttered, and someone with a steady ear might detect a small hint of disappointment in his voice. He then sat and waited to make landfall...

---

Cicero was rather confused why the Klatichans would even want Neo Tyr. No advantage could really be gained. And hell, in his opinion it wasn't very smart to absorb a large, furious nation into your own, especially if it was a modern one. And when they were absorbed, the Tyrinians would have no qualms insulting and revealing the practices of the Klatch. That probably wasn't the best idea, but a nation with a burning desire for revenge wasn't usually the soundest in policies. Nevertheless, Cicero Vassal listened well, even if he didn't look it.

Kajar was rather confused at the last sentence that Cooper said. Crocodile goods? Like, as in the crocodiles you could see at AdventureWorld down in Hanarue? Why would they want crocodile goods? Neo Tyr had the llama, the furry, cuddly pet that rivaled dogs in popularity. Kajar had had a stuffed llama once, named it Wendell- and it was then that Kajar released his mind was going off topic. He should have gotten more sleep last night...

Marimeta, being the one who was most alert in the conversation, decided to take a new course. "I see. Now, how would you take course in Kyrall?"

Cooper frowned, then shrugged, "I have no plans. High Command tells me, since you're the Head of State you're in Command now. You may, if you wish, order us out, however at this time I would recommend against it."

The Generalmajor shuffled his papers, a sign he was a little uneasy, "To be honest, we feel that if we leave, one of the other Klatchian States will roll in. Now the Cheka were kind enough to supply me with transcribed tapes from the Parliamentary debate... one which was supposedly private."

Cooper took the opportunity to hand out a few sheets of paper. It was a fairly run of the mill debate between several Klatchian keys in National Parliament. It was fairly dull, apart from three highlighted sections. One where a North Germanian had announced their Nations intent to conquer Neo Tyr, and set it up as a Germanian colony. The next was a suggestion by Midlonia, that the Princess be forcibly married to a Midlonian noble. The third was odly enough, a Dyellian who had suggested the use of nerve gas to clear out the under, "Needless to say, the current moderate Government is somewhat unhappy about any Dyellian suggesting war crimes. Apparently the Department of Dirty Tricks is overseeing his removal from higher Government."

"Anyway, I'm sure you're not interested in the internal bickerings of the Dyellian State. You know our Government's stance. You know my orders, if need be, we are willing to fire on our fellow Klatchians. Let us pray it does not come to that."

You are watching MNB News
"... Tribune Giovanno has formally tabled his Private Member's Bill in the House of Representatives today, calling for a return of Imperial Aid Agencies to Neo-Tyr. The bill also includes a request, on behalf of the Tyrnians, for the MCR and the Red Globe, as well as other NGO's such as MsF to go to Neo-Tyr.

Lord Cartach deSoto of the MCR and Lord Cellachan deMalara of the Red Globe have issued a joint statement, where they have stated that no matter the outcome of the bill, their respective agencies will be assisting Neo-Tyr.

The first aid is expected to depart the Empire within the next three hours.

Greens M.P.'s in the Lords and Representatives have praised the leaderships of Alconia and Hubris and Dyelli Beybi for "showing that they have nothing to hide from the world. These two nations have shown that even among the Klatch there are good people".

Analysts say that the last comment is an indicator of just how poor a reputation the Klatchian leadership has.

The Government has reaffirmed the Declaration of Neutrality; "Macisikan will not take sides" a spokesman said.

The Church today has issued a rephrasing of..."

OOC:- BUMP. This is a good RP and I'd hate to see it die.

OOC: Gak! I'm here but trying to find some time. Neo, check your telegrams please.

OOC: Okay, I'm back now. Our school has a very early spring break, you see.

IC: Spring was slowly, yet surely, arriveing in the archepelago. The teperature was dipping up and down from freezeing in the midlands and it was relibily warmish in the south. This meant that some farmers would sow their feilds and fishermen would start heading out again, as the spring brought schools of Neo Tyr's renouned red snapper to the warm south seas.

The people were starting to get very tired of the occupation. There was a bitter animosity devolping for anyone who didn't look like purebred colonist or Hakiri who remained in the country. Riots broke out from time to time, which the police were trying to do their best to quell. It was no secret that House Hemlock and House Seabrook hated the Klatichans and ecpecilly the Hitizargani in the nation. It was a very tence time, and it kept up soon tentions would snap.

---

In Easterling, the transcript got rather large reactions from everyone at the table, (Ecpecilly Grant Dart, who knew that these dirty sand rats were up to killing them all along) but Marimeta coughed, trying to speak for a moment. "I see. Now, Mr. Kajar, you had some concerns you wished to voice?"

Ross nodded. "Yes, Generalmajor, if you wouldn't mind..." He said.

---

Edward Birmingham was kneeling near the Pit in Kyrall. His face was in a sorrowful look as he inspected the small arm coming from under a pile of rubble. It was one of a young girl's; most likely no more than six. The arm was battered and begining to decay and there was a small little ring with a yellow flower on her left middle finger. Birmingham shook his head slowly and stood. "Damn them..." He muttered and turned away from the arm of the dead little girl.

He saw in the distance a girl running to him. She was of native decent and was in a police uniform. "Cheif Superintendant Birmingham!" She called out.

Birmingham wiped the look of anger he had towards the Klatichans off his face. "Ah, yes Lowrin, what is it? News from Hector?"

The girl panted for a moment while nodding. "Major Hector has found Major Dunbar's unit. They survived the collapse!"

Birmingham couldnt help but raise an eyebrow. "Dunbar survived? That's great news. Get them to camp and get them some water. Tell Dunbar to report back to me at once in the eveining."

The girl said some formalities and ran off. Birmingham walked closer to the Pit that was nearby. He kelt and looked in the endless sea of destruction. Dunbar survived... Dose that mean that others could be stranded there underground...? Birmingham thought for a moment, shook his head, and went back on the long serch for surviveors.

"Of course." Cooper spoke in his usual mild-mannered way. He was what most people would call an honourable man, he was also fairly naive in many respects and was given to the belief that everyone he tried to help was equally so, "The kind of cooperation put forward cannot exist unless we are completely honest with one another."

Ross Kajar nodded and gave a cursory glance at his notes. “Alright. First and foremost we need to talk of the insurgency. Before they Kyrall incident it was actually a rather small group with surprisingly strong leadership. Although most Tyrinians liked them- they were seen as patriots, most really didn’t want to join. It would have dissipated if the ‘head’ was cut off. The Federated Klatchan Coast, in my opinion, drastically overestimated the insurgency threat, and there was the very pointless shelling of the Blue Song and Rotor Co. towers- I still see absolutely no rhyme nor reason to that.”

“But now Kyrall is gone. Millions of citizens are dead. Families like Mr. Levbo’s have been torn asunder and countless lives have been ruined. We now have word of new insurgent recruiting stations throughout the country. They’re getting new members in droves daily. We have confirmation that their leadership slipped out of Kyrall and is presently somewhere in the South Seas. The disillusioned people no longer listen to the government, which in their mind has delivered them into this hell. We can’t stop them anymore. This matter is growing at an alarming rate.”

“So something needs to be done about this. I would’ve recommended precision strikes, but it’s far too late for that. The people don’t need leaders to tell them to fight, they see it as a necessity. But if you go out in arms you’ll just win tiny battles and deliver propaganda material. This isn’t like the government- you can’t scare it down. The revolutionary spirit is starting to rise again. We have news that several businessmen are funneling money to the insurgents. I have also heard rumors that Houses Seabrook and Hemlock have been giving aid to them as well. Truth be told, I’m not sure what to do on this.”

Kajar coughed and started talking again. “Secondly, we have the economy. When Kyrall went down it took several large businesses with it. Software development is a rather large industry here in Neo Tyr and Kyrall was the major hub of it all. The stock markets dead too. Outsiders are losing interest in us, and when they regain it we’ll be sure to see a plethora of carpetbaggers. The food distribution has lost many overseas key partners that it truly needs. Unemployment is at an all-time high. Do mind you we were in an economic boom before you came, and the people are not happy about all this.”

Cicero put his hand up idly. “Let’s not forget the Midlonian deportees. The people really despise that. Not to mention you have a Seabrook retainer out there too. House Seabrook is going to make it hell to have any long-term plans until he’s returned to them. And you also stole away some native pop singer; the people loved her. We’ve also got reports that some researchers have been taken by Vrak, I doubt the Vincinity Institute is happy there.”

“And what about Sarcobess?” Dart sneered, “I see you’ve been burning down the forest. You’re getting pretty close to Sarcobess castle, if that is harmed you’ll have even more enraged people, it being a historic site and all. But after you shelled the Museum Neo Tyr, I doubt you have problems burning cultural sites-“

Marimeta, sensing the anger in Dart’s voice, cut him off. “That will do, Mr. Dart.” She turned her attention to Cooper. “It will be rather difficult to put this country back together. It looks like we have our work cut out for us, now don’t we?” She said, trying to sound kind to counter Dart’s harsh words.

"Frankly." Cooper said, "I don't intend to do anything about the insurgency, apart from to make it clear I have an open door if they want to negotiate."

He was using his usual calm measured voice, "I do deeply regret much of what has happened, but I will not hesitate to point out that the Dyellian troops in Easterling have had nothing to do with violence towards the civilian population."

"Mr Dart, I am very sorry to hear you have such a low opinion of the United Republics, an opinion which I consider to be frankly ill-mannered from someone so recently released from a Dyellian Prisoner of War camp." he didn't sound angry or ill tempered, just saddened.

"I don't mean to be inpolite or inconsiderate, but I am going to be blunt. I, as a representative of Dyelli Beybi am willing to help you. If you do not want my help, I will pack up my men and leave. If the insurgency takes root here, I will likewise pack up my men and leave, I am not going to throw good lives away, for an ungrateful populace."

"If however, you do decide you want my help, say so. I am able to secure funds for whatever purposes you deem important, as well as the ability to move my small force around at will."

"Right now, you are the Government. I am just an unfortunate officer lumbered with an assignment I don't particularly want." he shrugged, "You're in charge, I would not be so arrogent as to presume I am even vaguely qualified to run a country. If you have problems it is your job to find solutions to them. All I can do is help things along a bit and make the odd suggestion."

OOC: Will minimize my presence a bit for a while. As well, I’m sure that Vassal (hope that’s the right fellow) has been escorted off the Destiny’s Fist to a Klatchian Marshal.

Kyrall

Admiral Killamo shook his head as the last of cargo from the humanitarian ships were unloaded. Some infantry were diverted in handing out supplies and setting up makeshift first aid stations for the Tyrinians. Still, a general pull-out from Kyrall was the plan, and even once the humanitarian stations were constructed, the Vrakians left them to the nearest and most able Tyrinian in charge. No heavy equipment such as excavators or cranes were brought in to move the wreckage. At most, some large tractor trailers were brought over to distribute food and would be abandoned once the pull out began. Sea Containers full of canned food, blankets, and medical supplies sat on the docks. Let the Tyrinians help themselves said the High Command. Some thought Vrak was getting too soft with this token humanitarian gesture.

The two projection fleets wheeled about once the last of the first aid stations were set up and the cargo unloaded. They set course for three uninhabited islands in the north west corner of Neo Tyr. Preliminary reports indicated that these islands would make a good naval base and potentially had some raw materials. As well, they were a bit further away from the main body of islands and hopefully, from the main area of insurgency. Either way, it was an attempt to save face from an otherwise embarrassing situation. Lessons from this fiasco as compared to New Shiron were drawn up, and possibly some planners were executed for their incompetence.

====

Vrak

As for the scientists that were forcibly extradited to Vrak, they were locked up in secure facilities with communication to the outside world non-existent. Once the necessary information was retrieved and the prototypes contructed, then they were either offered permanent residency within Vrak (albeit with heavy restrictions) or face an immediate and most unpleasant death. They were considered war booty (although in dealings with the Vrakians were told that they were considered “important”), and thus no better than an inanimate object. Depending on the degree of a scientist’s non-compliance, they would have their families separated and then, quite possibly, executed. Further resistance would lead to their own demise.

===

Politically, the Tyrinians were thought of as a bunch of lazy pakrahs who deserved to be crushed under the military heel of the Klatch. Some members of government expressed disgust over the inability of the FKC to conduct a proper invasion over a relatively weak target. These same people, many of them highly placed within the military and arms manufacturers, called for a reorganization of Vrak’s place in the FKC. Some moderates privately blamed the King. This same group also blamed the ever growing influence of the Order of Bok, who were seen as manipulating the King for their own designs. Even then, one had to be careful since the VIS were everywhere.

Still, the push to develop much more deadly technologies was on. The eventual occupation of Neo Tyr’s northwesternmost islands was a concession to the hardliners.

Some were suspicious of the ever growing threat of the Dyellians. Border skirmishes in the jungles of EvilPsychoticGuy was one thing. But Dyellian influence in Neo Tyr was worrisome. Some even blamed the Alconians since, well, weren’t they the overall commander of the operation?

In short, this little forgotten war would make Vrak much more dangerous.

The protests in the Universities, in the Capital, were lone voices in the wilderness, and they quickly faded; the cause to held Neo-Tyr was dealt a fatal blow when Greens MP's tabled documented evidence of Tyrinians practising slavery in open parliament. It wasn't a case of the Government concealing the news, so much as just not bothering to tell anyone. The Empire had held for over five hundred years that slavery was a cardinal sin; the public revelation the the Tyrnians practised it destroyed any moral case they had in Macisikan.

The House of Lords, rabid abolitionists to a (wo)man, instantly turned against Neo-Tyr. The Deputies merely shrugged and turned away; they never wanted to be involved in the first place. The Representatives dropped the matter faster than a hot brick.

Under pressure from lobbyists, donors, M.P.'s and public opinion, MCR and the Red Globe very quietly reversed their positions; while the Red Globe was far more broadly international, they couldn't afford the stigma of slavery. MCR ran away faster than the Reps.

But it was in the early years of the Sixth Dynasty that the fate of Imperial involvement in Neo-Tyr was decided; a 1623 law, never repealed, never overridden, declared that "Hiƒ Majestyieƒ Government is wholley forbidden to render aide unto they who do owne slaveƒ, or to thoƒe who engage in the ƒale of slaveƒ or whoe otherwiƒe are enaged in thiƒ moƒt abominable of practiceƒ, nowe and forever, by the Grace of GOD."

It would been of small comfort to the Tyrnians to know that they weren't the first ones to be screwed over by old Imperial Laws no-one had bothered to repeal.

In the boardrooms, and council chambers, in the Houses of Parliament and in the Throne Room, at the highest levels, the whole situation was being shifted into the "Don't care, don't want to know; just go away" basket.

The Empire was washing its hands of the whole damned mess.

(OOC: Purely as an ooc aside, this has been some fantastic reading. Thank you)

IC:

High above, Vastivan OVERSIGHT satellites continued their mechanical appraisal, silently recording.

OOC: Vrak, i've got some ships in the area with Marines, off the coast of Kyrall, you get into any bother you gimme a call, i could do with some decent action- RPing.

Odd things were happening in Dyelli Beybi as well. The troops along the borders were edgier than usual, as if expecting an outburst of open hostilities between Klatchian forces. There were also fresh tank designs rolling out of the factories, most of which were going straight up North to the Vrakian border, while the older models were trundling back to warehouses.

This wasn't anything new, the Dyellians had mobilised against percieved threats from within Klatch before, paranoia seemed to be a part of the National psyche, but it did indicate the Dyellians were on edge, and wary of Vrak.

In Easterling, Marimeta nodded. "Alright. I believe that is all, thank you for your time. Would you like anything to eat or drink, before you leave?" She said, trying to make up ground from Dart's words.

Dart was rather shamelessly rolling his eyes. He didn't like the Dyeillians. They were stupid sand rats who threw him in a jail for far too long. They had helped in the rape and destruction of Kyrall. They seemed to see themselves as great crusaders. They had funny accents. He hated them and everything the stood for, and all he knew is that he wanted a good meal, a good drink, and a good shower.

---

Meanwhile, in the undercity of Nochior, a very different meeting was taking place in a dimly lit room. There were several shadow figures sitting along a table. The man at the head of the table, who's one eye shone in the limited light, spoke. "Are the preparations complete in Easterling?"

The man who would reply was very large. Large muscles covered his body, his face was scarred and a long tattoo could be seen on his arm. "We've got men in every level of the local government, sans the damn governor. But Levbo can't stop us alone."

"What of Kajar? I have news that he is currently in the city." A man with a rather expensive watch and an expensive looking suit piped up.

"We have White under our control. We'll make sure that he downplays our threat until the time comes." Said the tattoo man.

The rich man furrowed his brow. "You know that Kajar hates the Tong. I wouldn't be surprised if he cleans out the whole wharf."

"Be quiet, Othello, your ignorance is showing," The man with one eye said in his very harsh voice, "The Tong has deep roots. The pieces are almost all in place. Some little noble can't stop it now. The very will of Neo Tyr has formed- and soon it shall cleanse the outland plague from this land. Now, for other matters..."

---

Juliet Seabrook had metally shut down. She had spent the last two hours creatively cursing, crying, and moping over those self-righteous Makistani. Neo Tyr's last hope- the only light at the end of the tunnel- extinguished. Now she was curled into a ball, not wanting to see anyone. Moreover, this was a slap in her face, as she was the most pro-abolition of the startlingly abolitionist House Seabrook. No matter why or for what reason, however, Neo Tyr's best chance for aid had dissipated into thin air in the time where it was needed more than ever. She didn't even bother sending a message to the Makistani.

In other news, enraged Tyrinians backed slavery like never before in response, the few polls were showing an unprecedented 45% now supported the institution, and the Takahavano slave markets saw a rather high purchase rate, good for them as the war was making slavery rather unpopular.

---

Vrak had made a petit error in the scientist pilfering. First off, most of the scientists were from the Vincinity Institute. It was a pretty large, powerful research lab, the most famous in Neo Tyr. Secondly, they were filthy rich with several powerful friends in Neo Tyr, but that might not mean too much. Third, many of them were in pharmaceutics and really didn't know how to make what Vrak wanted. That was to be understood, as the military was very small and didn't get much treatment from the big businesses. Most citizens didn't know that the Barren Halo defenses besides the SAMS existed. So Vrak was stuck with a bunch of rich scientists who knew mostly about the latest painkiller, but not of the technology they wanted.

The north islands (Frost Island, Gale Island, and the Isle of Bears, for your information,) were large forested islands to the north. Only campsites dotted them settlement-wise, and a little place to tie up small boats. The weather was harsh, there were no protected coves, and there was no clear path through the Halo nearby. Like a majority of Neo Tyr, it really wasn't strategically important. However, on a plus side, they were very pretty.

Communiqué
(cc'd to Alconia and Hubris, Dyelli Beybi)

To the leader of the Nation of Neo-Tyr, Greetings in sorrow.

It is our deep regret that we cannot extend any further aid to Neo-Tyr, due to moral and legal reasons.

Legally, we are bound by anti-slavery laws which date back over five hundred years [list of relevant legislation attached], however it is the Abolishment of Aid and Comfort to Slavers Act [1623] that prevents us in the first instance from sending your nation aid. Other Acts also preclude this action, but the 1623 legislation is the earliest of those that directly affects your situation.

Other items of legislation that indirectly preclude aid include the Imperial Declaration of Human Rights [1947], and its precursor, the Declaration of Rights Human and Divine [1683].

Slavery is an abomination in the eyes of God and Man, and we cannot in any way support a nation which legalises and encourages this most abhorrent of crimes. We cannot give aid and remain true to the spirit of our human rights commitment.

We are precedented in this decision; according to Imperial records yours is the 43rd international party refused aid upon basis of the practice of slavery.

We expect that within the next two days Parliament will formally vote to end all Imperial official involvement in Neo-Tyr and advise our citizens to depart your nation as soon as possible. Government newscasters have been instructed to return to the Empire; they will leave within the day.

We offer our prayers for the salvation and redemption of the souls of the people of your nation, that you will find the truth of God and abolish the practice of slavery.

With regrets,
Lady Justina Valdir, Minister for External Affairs.

--------

With a businesslike motion Valdir dispatched the communiqué down a secure channel. Shaking her head in exasperation she glared first at the dossier on Neo Tyr, and then at the screen displaying the current agenda for the Parliamentary session in three days' time; at the top was a proposed motion formally recognising Klatchian governance of Neo Tyr.
"Ma'am?" an aide.
"Yes?"
"Ambassador-General Alarl and Baronet Madar, Ambassadorial Affairs, are here to see you; they have the valuations and outlay estimations you asked for."
"Thank you." Lady Valdir dismissed the Tyrnian dossier and the agenda with a glance.
"Send them in."

OOC: Err… Pardon my ignorance, Vrak, but what does it mean that Vassal’s with a marshal? Is he in prison?

Juliet Seabrook said nothing as she watched the letter from Macistan burn. She had looked over the copy her assistant, Willoughby, had given her and couldn’t help but sigh. Outlanders are so self-righteous. While they fretted over slavery countless of innocent people in Kyrall were freezing to death, perhaps dying of disease or starvation. But heaven forbid they send any aid- oh no. There was that evil minority which justified the act of condemning thousands of guiltless children to premature deaths. Juliet started to cry again. “Willoughby… Have I been doing the right thing? I stand on the forefront of abolition, speak out on it in public, bend the law to liberate slaves- and now this? Some outland nation condemns our people to die because of this practice? Has all my efforts been in vain?” She asked, her voice breaking.

Willoughby was silent as he watched the corners of the letters twist and incinerate in the fireplace. “I-I do not know, my Lady.”

The noble’s thoughts took a new course. “Damn them… How any Christian could sit idly by like them and watch normal people suffer and die while they’re perfectly content to let the Klatch commit genocide… Damn her! Damn the whole world for I am sick of it! I pray that God can somehow forgive their souls for being so callous and so…” She fought back tears, but stood. “No, Willoughby, we can’t just sit here. We need to move forward. If Macistan ‘humanists’ refuse to give aid I’m sure as hell not going to sit here and mope about it. There’s thousands of nations, billions of people- we’ve got to hope for a silver lining, Willoughby… It’s all we have left…”

Juliet stood and left to her office. She had to find aid somehow. She was the secretary of foreign affairs. This was her duty. This is what she had to do.

---

A man tapped Lord Garithos Trisken on the shoulder. “Lord Trisken, we’re about to euthinize the youth from the Dunbar Patrol. Would you like to say something?”

Trisken nodded. He walked down the long rows of beds, filled with wounded and dying citizens. He was in a makeshift hospital on the south shore of Kyrall. The doctors weren’t the best and the supplies weren’t always there but the determination was astounding. It was also a popular building as it was one of the very few that had heating inside of it. Trisken eventually saw the ill fated youth. The boy couldn’t have been older than 19, his bloodstained uniform pegged him as ‘Academic’, the child hadn’t even left the academy. Trisken kneeled. “Are you all right, lad?”

The youth turned his head. He couldn’t see anything, he had become blind in the collapse, yet he recognized the voice. “L-lord Trisken?”

Trisken somberly nodded. The boy moved his jaw, trying to form words. “Gods… My lord, it hurts... I’m so scared… W-When is the Red Cross arriving?” He said, his voice quivering in desperation

Trisken’s face darkened. “It… it’s coming any moment now. Don’t worry son. You’ll be fine. Just try to get some rest.”

The noble then stood. The youth tried to say another thing but was cut off by a nurse putting a pillow to his face. The fatally wounded boy tried to resist, but it was no use. Trisken watched without a word as the boy died. The nurse quietly rolled him into a contaminated sheet while two others efficiently changed the bed’s linen. Trisken watched the boy’s corpse’s last journey as it went outside in the cold air into the Immolator. A Hakiri medicine man would perform a traditional Right of Cleansing and the corpse would be tossed into the fire and burn into mere memories. An unfitting end to such a short life.

Neo Tyr normally didn’t touch euthanasia, but these were desperate times. The boy could have only been saved with expensive medical devices and very talented doctors. None of that was in the Christ’s Grace Hospital. His bed was needed for the next person down the line, who happened to be an eight-year-old who was now missing a left arm. Trisken shook his head. So much injustice in the world. He pulled his coat tight and left into the cold winter night, as there was news of supplies from Vrak. But although the noble was gone the doctors continued to work, many hadn’t slept in days. They were the true unsung heroes of the Neo Tyr War.

---

Lawrence Hemlock was pacing. There was still no news on his father Justinian, but that was second in him mind. His primary concern was the outlanders. Oh yes, everyone in Neo Tyr despised the outlanders. Hated with a passion, there was no group in memory with so much abhorrence from the people. But Lawrence didn’t just hate them, he distrusted them more than most. Perhaps even an unhealthy distrust. It had been dominating his mind for some time.

He took out his pocketwatch, cursed when he saw how late it was, then snapped it and returned to his worrying. After a few minuets, the ornate door to his study was opened. The man who entered was large in a fine black suit. A pair of black sunglasses and a small rose embroidered into his left breast pocket were the only other things of note on him. Hemlock scowled. “You’re late! The Rose is never supposed to be late!”

The agent gave a salute. “I’m sorry sir,” he said in an uninterested voice that gave away the fact he really wasn’t that sorry, “You called for a report on the ‘Cheka’?” He said, his voice still sounding like he had better things to do.

“Yes, yes! I called for it a month ago! Why we have so much trust in your damn agency is beyond me…” He snipped.

The agent repressed the urge to make a smarty comment. Like always. “Here’s the report,” He said, handing a large stack of papers to the noble, “But I’ll summarize. The Cheka are a large organization in Dyeille Beyabi. We have reports that they center from the ‘Benja House’ in Cyro, and work under a Felix Dzerzhinsky. They seem to us at the surface as information gatherers, but we know they have deep, deep roots to the political system. We’ve also gotten word that they’ve got an agent amongst the Vassal and Kajar, although we’re not positive.”

“I don’t care who they are!” Hemlock hissed, “I want to know their plans here!”

The Lavian Rose agent would have shrugged, if he were a civilian. “They seem to be focusing on Easterling. But you already knew that. We know that the Dyeillans hate nobility and they hate slavery. Your noble family embraces both of those. They want power here, be assured. I’d say you… take precautionary measures.”

Hemlock nodded. “Yes, yes… Now go! I don’t need anymore summarizing! I’ll read it myself. You make sure none of the sand rats get inside the family. Check the oathmen, too… No go!” He said.

The Rose agent left without a word. Lawrence sat in his ornate heirloom of a chair. He wasn’t going to trust these outlanders, oh no. If they wanted to cross Great House Hemlock, they had another thing coming! Another thing coming!

"No thank you." Cooper politely refused the offer of food, "I have work to do and need to talk to my superiors in Cyro about how the military reforms will affect us... well me."

He excused himself with his usual polite, diffident manner, "If you will excuse me your Highness?"

Dart he'd decided was much in the mould of the nobles he remembered back home, although, unlike most of the Cheka agents, having Dart killed never entered the Generalmajor's head.

Outside the offices, one of Dyelli Beybi's overly abundant, young, dark-haired Commisaar's was lurking. As a matter of fact, it was Dashwood. She hated social calls, she always seemed to trip over her words. Blowing stuff up was so much easier. She'd recieved a telegram that morning from Felix, it seemed she was wanted in the Special Forces that had been pinned together over the last few months...

She shoved the thought aside. She was planning to corner a couple of the Neo Tyran nobles, namely Cicero Vassal and Ross Kajar, preferably seperately.

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

The Dyelli Beybians who were running supplies in and out of what was left of Kyrall were also spreading the tales of authorised, involuntary euthenasia. Which was something which was very hard to swallow among the fairly devout Roman Catholic Dyellians, although the Cheka were working to make sure the stories didn't get too far, buying more than a few sailor's silence. The Cheka didn't want relations strained any more than they were already.

Marimeta nodded. "Alright, Mr. Cooper, I thank you for your time."

Marimeta waited untill Cooper left and let out a small sigh. Dart rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, but Marimeta waved him off. "Oh, shut up, Dart." She said dissmissavly and walked to the door where two Rose agents were stationed and escorted her out.

Cicero smirked at Dart and stood. "I'll leave as well then. Mr. Kajar, Mr. Dart," he said, nodding to them in turn.

Kajar stood and streched his arms. "Yes, Mr. Dart, you really need to get public speaking lessons. You're hardly as eloquent as your father." And with that Kajar left.

Dart wrinkled his nose. He hated being made a mockery off. He stormed out of the room in a huff, in need of a drink.

Ciceron Vassal was the first one to be graced with the not necessarily desired prescence of Clarissa Dashwood, swathed in an army greatcoat. It was bloody cold here compared to Quisa or Cyro.

She would be familiar to Kajar, but probably not to Vassal, "Mr Vassal?" she asked politely, although she had the look of someone who would much rather be doing something else.

"Commisaar Dashwood." she introduced herself, "I knew your brother."

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

Back at home the Dyelli Beybians were growing tired of the Neo Tyr conflict. It was becoming an embaresment. It had been useful politically to have Dyelli Beybi appear as the non-extremist left of centre democracy rather than the band of heavily armed and decidedly unstable Marxists. Things though were dragging on, and in the fickly world of politics they were dragging on for too long, it was begining to look like nothing was being done. Only a few of the more patient people, such as Dzerzhinsky were still beating the Neo Tyr drum.

OOC: Neo Tyr. Sorry, but I can’t remember the name of the character who was languishing in the brig aboard the Destiny’s Fist. I thought it was Vassal but I could be wrong. This was the character that A&H put an arrest warrant out for. Remember the confrontation at the airport? That fellah.

Looks like some RL stuff just cropped up so I may be a bit intermittent again. Sorry.

IC:

To: Hirgizstan Diplomats
From: Vrak Military High Command
Re: assistance

We thank you for your generous offer but believe that we have sufficient manpower to secure these islands. We would like to officially thank your leader for your aide in this event. Perhaps a visit from one of your officials to our capital in the near future would be possible?

===

The two projection fleets, along with roughly 20-25 amphibious craft approached the nearest island (OOC: which one is it?). The terrain looked rough, but some beaches were located and these areas were where the troops would be disgorged.

Low flying fighter jets screamed overhead, looking for sighs of any Tyrinian military presence while high overhead, Vrakian satellites were tasked with drafting a preliminary map of the three islands.

In Kyrall, the last of the humanitarian effort pulled out and headed out towards the islands, escorted by the Kravoli patrol craft.

====

In Vrak itself, the scientists that displayed particular talents that could be useful for military applications were kept. Some were even offered positions within the private sector, again with restrictions, most notably Apollo Foods which also had a pharmaceutical branch. Some, of course, protested and promised retribution from their so-called rich friends. This brought a smile to their handlers. Then these rabble were promptly executed. The message was clear, Vrak would broke no disobedience – especially from a conquered people. This cowed the rest of the lot and besides, the shelf life from these people was deemed short anyways. Once useful knowledge was gleaned, they all would be dumped into the North Sea. And only the fishes would know since the VIS was extremely good at making people…disappear.

====

Along the Vrak/Dyelli Beybi border, no unusual buildups from Vrak was noticed. Of course the Dyellian reaction was noted and reported. But then again, didn’t they build that Atoris (sp) line and it came to naught?

TO: Vrakian Military High Command
FROM: Hirgizstanian DOD
Re: Visit

We would be most pleased to visit the capital of Vrak in the near future, we will contact you when we can arrange a viable time for the Fuhrer. Thank you for your kind offer.

-Message End-

OOC: I'm tied up in my own RP atm so i'll check in every now and again, whenever i can really.

OOC: Sorry about the delay.

IC: The Tyrinian war-weariness was reaching a fever pitch. Student demonstrations and small riots were commonplace, being fanned by the suspiciously well-led insurgency. The people no longer trusted the government. The system that had ruled for over nearly hundred years was now seen as a group of corrupt, powerless liars. The outlanders were understandably trusted even less, especially the states of Midlonia and Hirgitztan. What was trusted now was the local governments, the ones that led towns and islands and, of course, the noble houses. Even Marimeta still held respect, as the people knew it really wasn't her who gave the word.

---

To: The Vrak Diplomatic Corps.
From: The Great House of Trisken
Subject: Ralph Vander-Horn

Through various sources, we, the House of Trisken, have came into knowledge that Vrakian soldiers deported a Mr. Ralph Vander-Horn out of the country, a noted researcher, good friend to House Trisken, and one of the last heirs to the ancient and most respected Vander-Horn name. We hereby request his immediate return to the Archepelago at all due haste.

Caelestis Trisken
Caelestis Trisken
*The Seal of Great House Trisken*

((Historian notes: At the time the message was sent, the researcher Ralph Vander-Horn was very much dead, killed for insubordination))

---

The Vrakian ships were closely approaching the Isle of Bears. They wouldn't find many on it, perhaps a very dedicated nature-lover or a fisherman who set up camp in the area. It was still below freezing, but the temperatures were dipping above and below freezing mark. It was a rather boring island, just covered with trees and lakes, but remember the name 'Isle of Bears' wasn't just for show. Brown bears were common, grizzlies weren't unheard of, and there was always the chance the outlander's would run into a Fangclaw, but one of those beasts hasn't been spotted in over a decade. It wasn't very likely any Vrakian solders would see one.

---

In Easterling, Cicero acknowledged Dashwood's presence with mild distaste. "I see- want, what do you mean knew? Is Lance hurt? What did you outlanders do to him?" He said with anger and accusation in his voice.

Dashwood might have looked insulted, if she'd been able to sum up the effort, misunderstandings seemed to be what had characterised the whole campaign, and another was well... nothing unusual, "As it so happens, I had him flogged, brought before the Governor and crucified." she said, with ill-chosen sarcasm, "...No, the last thing I would want to do would be to harm your brother, I'm saying knew, because, as I'm sure you're aware, he didn't make it out of Kyrall."

"In fact, he was arrested by the Vrakians at the airport, apparently they had an arrest warrant out for him." she shrugged, "There was nothing much I could do aside from get everyone, including the Princess machine gunned."

The girl just sounded tired, like someone who'd had far too many sleepless nights, "Since then I have had no word from or about him, if I knew where he was I would try to get him out, I owe him a great deal."

It was that peculiar Dyellian debt and repayment concept surfacing again, "What I really wanted to see was whether he has been permitted to write home from Vrakian custody, it could allow for me to pinpoint his location, although from your reaction I'd suspect he's been silent on the letter front."

She was an odd case, from her tone of voice, she seemed to be trying to play the somewhat apathetic Commisaar, but her words and body language belied the fact that she obviously cared about the fate of Lance Vassal, and had, rightly or wrongly decided it was entirely her own fault.

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

Cooper's response to mounting anger at his occupation was what one would expect from him. He pulled nearly all his troops into the military headquarters around the centre of the city, meaning that the Dyellians were basically invisible in most of Easterling. The only place they really hung around now were the wharves, where the troops were alert to possible hostile moves from other Klatchian States.

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

In Dyelli Beybi, the country had temporarily completely lost interest in Neo Tyr. Dyelli Beybi was a staunchly Roman Catholic State, and the death of the Pope meant that very little else earned anything but a passing mention in the news. Things would remain the same unless the whole situation in Neo Tyr exploded, or until a new Pope was elected.

Orthodox Macisikan, despite public appearances, had not fully forgotten about Neo Tyr.

While they paid their respects to the Catholic Pontiff, and prayed for the comfort of their small Catholic community, the Macisikani didn't stop working, adhering to an ancient proverb of theirs; "Kings come and Kings go, but the business of government is endless".

A small group of dignitaries, led by the Lords deSoto and deMalara, were having trouble sleeping with the crisis in Kyrall still ongoing. While deMalara, and his Red Globe (being international) could act, deSoto and his MCR had their hands tied; dependent on an unwilling Parliament to provide abundant, free, high-quality medicines. deMalara only needed the M.P.'s to look the other way if he was to mobilise the Red Globe.

They had managed, through family ties in the House of Lords, to get official recognition of Klatchian rule over Neo Tyr tied up in committee, but the problem was that most M.P.'s had equally damned the Klatch and the Tyrinians. Direct aid would not be forthcoming, at least, not until the Tyrinians actually abolished slavery.

Their only option was to try and persuade the government to look away while the Red Globe mobilised its resources, and called other nations to assist. The only problem was that they didn't have the political weight necessary to get the obstinate Parliament into looking the other way - only one man could do that.

His Imperial Royal Majesty, the King-Emperor Constantine Augustus. And Constantinus was not only preoccupied with the internal affairs of his sprawling Empire, but convention, custom, and time-honoured tradition dictated that he could not be proactive; people had to come to him.

For the King-Emperor to say a few words in the right ears and then gently coax an unwilling Parliament into grudgingly looking away, a Tyrinian in a very high place, who could represent that nation, would have to petition him for aid.

Only then could Red Globe aid flow freely.

OOC: Appologies for my long absence...

Haart awoke one morning to the sound of cranes and the temporary housing unit he was in swinging and then landing on something that shifted. The cranes continued for a time. And then silence.

The woman walked through the 'front' door and pushed up the end of the container, looking out.

"Well Lord Haart it appears we are in Neo-Tyr...someplace..."

*********
KCN Breaking News
The Privy Council has presented a new Neo-Tyr Regency Plan to the Klatchian Parliament in closed session. We now take you to Jenna in Port Olympus

"Good Evening, this is Jenna Brankpat in Port Olympus for KCN...we have word that the Speaker closed the most recent session of Parliament for the presentation of a plan to deal with Neo-Tyr. Although speculation is rife, it has been leaked that the name of the plan in Neo-Tyr Regency Plan. Also many are saying that Neo-Tyr will offically be made a Territory of the Federation. I have with me Jhon Banks, a noted federal lawyer...tell me what does it mean for Neo-Tyr to be a Territory of the Federation."

"Actually what it means is that Neo-Tyr will be a non-voting State of the Federation. Esentially Neo_Tyr will have most if not all of her soverignty returned to her. However I do caution that Neo Tyr will likely be under far greater restrictions than most previous Territories of the Federation."

"How so..."

"Well this Regency Plan name says that Parliament is likely going to keep control of things until they feel the Princess of Neo Tyr can actually rule the country on her own. Some sources of mine say that the Alconian Royal family is decidely against the previous Lord Protector of Neo Tyr."

"Any reason..."

"They still remember Cromwell...but really this is likely the first steps in Neo Tyr gaining her soverignty back."

(program continues with more speculation)

To: His Imperial Majesty Emperor Constantine Augustus of Makistan
From: Marimeta Cicily Llamanian, House Sister to Great House Llamnian and Princess of Neo Tyr
Subject: The Issue of Aid

It has come to my attention that Makistan has formally announced that they will not be delivering aid to Neo Tyr, on the grounds of slavery. I have composed this letter to humbly request that you change your stance on aid.

Aid in Kyrall is needed more than it ever has been. There are still millions wounded and sick, and we can not handle them all. Men, women, and children die with a lack of aid every moment. If no new aid is delivered soon, the death toll could increase by hundreds of thousands. If aid is not delivered soon it will be too late- the damage will have been done. Yet it is not too late now. The welfare of Makistan can change the fate of Kyrall and change the fate of Neo Tyr.

Slavery is a terrible crime against humanity, one that I detest. The actions of a few certain Houses- ones who do not favor the Llamanian- are the only reason why it stays law. However, until Parliament can meet, it can not be repealed. Yet now I swear this to you- if you can get aid in my country and save my people from death's cold grasp, I will be sure to put pressure on slavery this coming year and personally see to it's downfall.

If you require material compensation for your aid, I'm sure we can work out an agreement when Neo Tyr can stand on its feet again. Now I beg to you, somehow grant us aid. The fate of thousands and perhaps Neo Tyr itself is in your hands.

Marimeta Cicily Llamanian
Marimeta Cicily Llamanian

*The Seal of Great House Llamanian*
*The Royal Seal of Neo Tyr*
*The Great Seal of Neo Tyr*

---

Elsewhere, Haart heard Rathal and stood. He walked to the door as it opened. Light filled the room, and Haart, used to the dim glow of the portable housing unit, put his arm up to shield his eyes from the brightness. "Where are we...?" He asked.

---

In the Easterling Government Building, Cicero scowled at Dashwood's opening statement. "That's not funny." He said coldly.

Cicero listened to the rest of her words. "No, we've gotten no word from Lance from the last message from Fe-yourd Harbor," He said, butchering the name of the now-infamous port, "We weren't even sure he was alive. There were some rumors he was in Kyrall, but nothing of any substance."

He sighed and frowned. "Those damn walruses are yours friends, right? Why do you need my input? Nevertheless, if you do... do get information on Lance I'd appreciate it. His father, our father... He's not in good health. It's a miracle he lasted the winter. I'm sure he'd appreciate being able to see his son, one last time..." He finished, whit more emotion his voice usually held.

To: His Imperial Majesty Emperor Constantine Augustus of Makistan
From: Marimeta Cicily Llamanian, House Sister to Great House Llamnian and Princess of Neo Tyr
Subject: The Issue of Aid

It has come to my attention that Makistan has formally announced that they will not be delivering aid to Neo Tyr, on the grounds of slavery. I have composed this letter to humbly request that you change your stance on aid.

Aid in Kyrall is needed more than it ever has been. There are still millions wounded and sick, and we can not handle them all. Men, women, and children die with a lack of aid every moment. If no new aid is delivered soon, the death toll could increase by hundreds of thousands. If aid is not delivered soon it will be too late- the damage will have been done. Yet it is not too late now. The welfare of Makistan can change the fate of Kyrall and change the fate of Neo Tyr.

Slavery is a terrible crime against humanity, one that I detest. The actions of a few certain Houses- ones who do not favor the Llamanian- are the only reason why it stays law. However, until Parliament can meet, it can not be repealed. Yet now I swear this to you- if you can get aid in my country and save my people from death's cold grasp, I will be sure to put pressure on slavery this coming year and personally see to it's downfall.

If you require material compensation for your aid, I'm sure we can work out an agreement when Neo Tyr can stand on its feet again. Now I beg to you, somehow grant us aid. The fate of thousands and perhaps Neo Tyr itself is in your hands.

Marimeta Cicily Llamanian
Marimeta Cicily Llamanian

*The Seal of Great House Llamanian*
*The Royal Seal of Neo Tyr*
*The Great Seal of Neo Tyr*


To: Her Highness Marimeta Cicily Llamanian, House Sister to Great House Lamanian and Princess of Neo Tyr.
From: The King-Emperor of Macisikan
Subject: RE: The issue of aid

Your Highness, greetings.

I am writing in response to your request for aid to your beleaguered nation; you honour us too much. We are merely one nation among many, and are merely attempting to do what little we can.

It is with deep regret that I inform you that it is not given to me to deny the laws of my people and my land; they are clear and strict. We cannot directly aid your nation, until after you have abolished slavery, but indirect help is another matter entirely.

Letters have been sent to some nations who concern themselves with such matters, as well as the Red Globe. Lord deMalara has informed me that if the new aid initiative is made as an international, rather than Imperial, one, there is no obstacle to his organisation's providing aid. They will not be permitted to use Imperial resources, but the RG has supporters scattered far and wide, and will be drawing on these, while they will be permitted to use our ports as a staging point (provided they don't tell us where these resources are going; it's an elaborate game of "don't ask, don't tell").

Unfortunately formal recognition of the Klatchian claim to your nation has been delayed yet again, pending the normalisation of your status within Klatch and a study by the House of Representatives Select Committee on Human Rights (International Arena). The process could take months. Until then, Neo Tyr will be in a state of legal ambiguity, which works to your advantage; if Klatchian rule is accepted, then all requests to us will have to go through them.

Material compensation is unnecessary; just abolish slavery, and when your nation is back on its feet, please try to moderate the behaviour of the Klatchian states towards others.

[signed]
King-Emperor Constantine Augustus Viktor Uí deMakra.

[Personal chop],

P.S. It's spelt "Macisikan", not "Makistan".

"This is the whole point Mr Vassal." Dashwood was tired (it's what comes from sleeping at your desk) and getting a bit snappy, "I'm sure the Generalmajor doesn't need your input either. God help me, but I'd rather be in Quisa, in my own bed, than in this damned freezing city, but I'm stuck here until the Walruses decide it's time for us to leave. I'm asking for your input because I thought, maybe you might be interested in what had happened, maybe you might know something I didn't."

"Anyway your Lordship." she seemed to have managed to get her temper under control again, "I have other people I need to see, you've heard what I have to say. Your brother was, hopefully still is, an honest and upright man... for now though I must bod you adieu, I have other people I need to speak with."

TO: Marimeta Cicily Llamanian, House Sister to Great House Llamnian and Princess of Neo Tyr
FROM: Howie T. Katt, Confederated City States of Mikitivity
SUBJECT: Humanitarian Aid

Greetings,

At the request of Macisikan, my government is interested in adding to the humanitarian relief supplies that are currently being shipped to Neo Tyr.

Sadly, my government has not been following the details of these tragic events closely, and at present would first like to limit any Mikitivity aid packages to supplies. However, if Neo Tyr were willing, it would also be possible for the Miervatian Engineering Corps, a military support unit, to actually be dispatched in order to render search and recovery operations in hostile or extremely hazardous areas.

If your nation is interested in this aid, please send us a list of your medical and food supply needs and we will let you know how much of those supplies we can send and how long we believe it will take to arrive.

Finally, if the situtation is safe enough for non-combatants, my government can request aid from the International Red Cross Organization.

-HTK

OOC: Short post here.

IC:

Somewhere in Vrak...

Translated from Vrakian.

-Intelligence Director. We are getting unconfirmed reports of international aid destined for Neo Tyr.
-That can be worrisome. These meddlers could start sending arms to fuel the insurgents.
-Does it matter? We have already pulled out.
-Of course it matters. While we are limiting ourselves to those three islands, the Dyellians and other FKC states are closer. And I don't think they would appreciate arms being funnelled in. We have no objection to legitimate aid, though.
-Shall I send a missive to our keys? They are currently debating the issue.
-Yes.

====

Meanwhile, the two projection fleets have surrounded the three island. An engineering battalion along with two infantry battalions landed on the largest island and began to clear out an area for an airstrip and a temporary dock.

====

To: The Great House of Trisken
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
Subject: Ralph Vander-Horn

According to our records, no such individual exists within Vrak.

Mikitivity Waits for Green Light on Aid for Neo Tyr
- Miervatia Today (2005.04.11)

Miervatia, Mikitivity

This afternoon the Disaster Response Office of the Confederated City States of Mikitivity called upon the Miervatian Engineers Corps, a non-combat speciality unit of the Mikitivity Defense Force, to begin preparations for a major relief effort in war torn Neo Tyr. The Disaster Response Office, headquartered in the Pitt, is tasked with responding to both domestic and international emergencies, and when in consultation with the International Affairs Office, has the power to enlist the aid of the military in order to bring food, water, and medical supplies to regions in need.

Howie T. Katt, Acting Director of the Disaster Response Office cautioned that while under most circumstances the Mikitivity Defense Force is only called upon to prepare and transport humanitarian aid, that uncomfirmed reports of continuing violence in Neo Tyr dictate that the government make its response cautious.

“The last thing I want to see on the international news are a bunch Red Cross volunteers in body bags drapped in the blue, black, and white of Mikitivity. The situation in Neo Tyr is tense, but the need for humanitarian assistance outweighs our government not lending a hand.” Katt said.

When asked if the Mikitivity Red Cross would be allowed to send volunteers to Neo Tyr, Katt replied, “I’d like to first await an official response from Neo Tyr. If they can provide our volunteers certain protections, including those outlined in the UN Good Samaritan Laws resolution, then my office has the authority to give the food, water, blankets, and engineering supplies that the military is already preparing to send to the Red Cross. I honestly think that if we can be assured that a non-military presence will help ease tensions and not be placed at risk, that this is the better way to save lives.”

The Mikitivity Red Cross last sprung into action in Jan. 2005, after a mega earthquake struck Istanbul, Ottoman Khaif. Volunteers were able to save hundreds of lives from buried rubble and quickly reestablished communication and sanitary lines in many smaller communities located outside the capital city.

___

OOC:
Additional requests for add can be directed to:
http://s3.invisionfree.com/UN_Organizations/index.php?showtopic=38

I also recommend asking a few of the feeder or active roleplay regions for supplies *if* you want a larger participation. :)

On behalf of the International Red Cross Organization, I'd like to offer the IRCO's assistance in coordinating any relief supplies sent to Neo Tyr. The IRCO can meet with representatives from Neo Tyr to build lists of where supplies are needed and see to it that your nation's offers are put to the best use possible.

On behalf of the International Red Cross Organization, I'd like to offer the IRCO's assistance in coordinating any relief supplies sent to Neo Tyr. The IRCO can meet with representatives from Neo Tyr to build lists of where supplies are needed and see to it that your nation's offers are put to the best use possible.

The latest intercepted message was slowly placed upon the desk of the Intelligence Sub-Director. Usually, a brief analysis would accompany the raw date but it was lacking this time.

-Well, what do you make of this?
-Clearly, sir, the Neo Tyr situation is beginning to return to the international spotlight again. We don’t know who the IRCO are…yet.
-Very well. I suggest some digging be done. What is the status in Parliament?
-They are still deliberating. The keys from New Shiron made some good points regarding inspections.
-Indeed, they are quite practical. Besides, we only have two projection fleets in the area now and they are currently securing those three islands. At least we don’t have the manpower in the immediate area. Especially if they come in from the south.
-Shall I contact the High Admiral? He may be able to bring us up to speed on the latest fleets under construction. I’m quite sure that the Type V with the Blue Dragon carriers are ready.
-Sounds like the phase out is going faster than I thought.
-Yes, sir. But what of the IRCO?
-We shall contact them directly.

====

To: The IRCO
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
Subject: Aid to Neo Tyr

You should be aware that the nation of Neo Tyr is under the control of the Federated Klatchian Coast. Therefore, any and all aid shall be directed to the relevant Klatchian authorities.

All ships will first be inspected before aid is delivered to Neo Tyr. Military vessels of any type will not be allowed to intrude within 200km of Neo Tyr. Escort will be provided by the nearest FKC state or ally.

The above guidelines are subject to change without notice. Your cooperation is strongly advised and appreciated.

OOC: Vrak, my Marine ships aren't doing anything, so you could task them with escorting and searching the IRCO units.

Admiral Killamo supervised the securing of the three islands. In truth, it was not a real test at all of his abilities. The first amphibious landing managed to scare what scant number of Tyrinians were there, but the villages and their inhabitants were mostly left alone. Construction was proceeding smoothly and a call was put back to the homeland for additional engineers and materials. Soon, the airport would be complete, allowing long range transports to bring in some heavy equipment.

He lazily cast his eye over the sea when he was interrupted.

-Admiral? A message from High Command.
-Very well, ensign. Thank you.

He scanned it quickly and smiled thinly.

-Patch me through to the Hirgizstan commander.

====

After a few minutes, Killamo could relax. He asked their Hirgizstan allies to keep watch for any possible warships that may try to make incursions and to turn any away that would attempt to do so. He brought them up to speed on the IRCO, and that such ships flying their flag (unless they were military) would be provided an escort. He gave their allies latitude in boarding ships that acted suspicously, but cautioned that the majority of inspections would be done at the docks. He also provided reassurances that Vrak was preparing to send more fleets to help with the efforts and that their current manpower would be devoted to patrolling the northern area of Neo Tyr. Not a blockade, of course, but a barrier to make sure that only legitimate aid would get through. Finally, he thanked the Hirgizstans for their help and jokingly wondered with his counterpart what slice of Neo Tyr that they would like. Not that he, an Admiral, could really do much since that was left to the politicians. But he could provide input.

General Steel had been bored for weeks on end, sitting trying to keep his few thousand troops active aboard ships for over a month, not to mention the pilots who, to get rid of their boredom, just kept flying.

The past day or so had been a lot better.

"Sir, what'd the Vrakians say?"The Marine Captain sat with his feet up on a desk in his quarters, another officer lay on a bed at the other side of the small room, his face sunk down into his pillow. The General stepped into the room, he was just walking back from the Bridge, he surveyed the scene for a moment before smiling

"Roberts, you and Jones are slobs,you know that don't you?"

"Indeed, sir." Roberts smiled and picked up a can of soda sitting on the desk, a piece of paperwork was stuck to the bottom, it fell off as he lifted it to his mouth, waiting for an answer from the General.

"Vrakians...yes...animated guys the Vrakians, damm fine soldiers too. Admiral Killamo, the Officer on the phone, asked us to make patrols in the area and to make checks on International Red Cross Organization vessels that are expected in the AO sometime soon."

"Damm, we get to check medical crates...how exiting...look sharp Jones, we'll need our flak vests, case we get bandages thrown at us." Jones lifted his head slightly, peered at the General and made a half-assed attempt to salute before his hand and head dropped back into place, his eyes closing.

"Your a sarcastic git Roberts...and what the hells the matter with him?"

"Oh...Major Wallace came by last night, smart-ass Jones here had a packet of pork rinds in his foot-locker, he was doing forced PT around the ship from 6pm last nite, only got in an hour ago."

"Damm, five hours of forced PT? Shoulda been seven."The General smiled. "The Vrakians also asked me what part of Neo Tyr i liked best...funny guys i tell you, nuthin' wrong with a sense of humour. And Jackson...stand up and salute next time i'm about."

The General looked animatedly down at Jackson, who jumped up quickly and saluted shouting "SIR, YES SIR."

"Better."


(OOC: I'll wait until the Intl Red Cross makes another post telling me about the ships before i do any more.)

TO: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
FROM: International Red Cross Organization
SUBJECT: Relief Supplies for Neo Tyr

We will submit all Red Cross transports to any Federated Klatchian Coast authority for inspect. At present we have several air cargo transports carrying food and medical supplies for humantiaran relief for the people of Neo Tyr on route. Though the air transports are in fact of a Mikitivity design they are unarmed and now manned by non-military Red Cross pilots. The supplies were donated by nations from the International Democratic Union.

However, the Red Cross is ill equipped to distribute all of these supplies due to your previous condition that only non-military personnel enter Neo Tyr. The Confederated City States of Mikitivity does have non-combat military support units that are better equipped and ready to lend assistance, if your command would be willing to allow non-combat enlisted troops to participate in the distribution and transport of additional food and medicine.

The Red Cross is also interested in addressing any pressing medical needs of civilians that were injured in the fighting, so if your office could transmit a list of civilian wounded, the Red Cross will attempt to arrange for their temporary transport to and care at medical facilities in other Red Cross nations.

To: International Red Cross Organization
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
SUBJECT: Relief Supplies for Neo Tyr

All Red Cross personnel and their agents, including non-combat military support personnel must be unarmed. Failure to comply with this directive will result in immediate expulsion of all Red Cross personnel and their agents. As well, Red Cross personnel and their agents are expected to remain completely neutral in this conflict. Acts of sabotage, collusion with insurgents, intelligence survelliance, or other acts deemed inappropriate will result in immediate expulsion and possibly stricter penalties.

Your safety within Neo Tyr will be assured by the FKC and its allies, as long as you fully comply.

TO: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
FROM: Howie T. Katt, Acting Director
Disaster Response Office
Cofederated City States of Mikitivity
SUBJECT: Heavy Machinery

Greetings. We've been coordinating our relief efforts with the International Red Cross having donated food and medical supplies for the IRCO to distribute as it sees fit. However, if there are areas of Neo Tyr that are still in need of potable water or reliable power, the Miervatian Engineering Corps could airlift in and operate the heavy machinery necessary to restore public ultilities vital to any reconstruction effort. The Corps recently completed emergency repairs in Miervatia after this winter's ice storms, and prior to that had field experience in Ottoman Khaif, after that nation was devasted by a massive earthquake. When power and water are restored, the Corps can be airlifted out again.

We'd also like to affirm that the IRCO has convinced my government to provide medical care to civilians who were injured during the fighting if your government would be willing to allow them to be flown to Mikitivity for care.

TO: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
FROM: Howie T. Katt, Acting Director
Disaster Response Office
Cofederated City States of Mikitivity
SUBJECT: Heavy Machinery

Greetings. We've been coordinating our relief efforts with the International Red Cross having donated food and medical supplies for the IRCO to distribute as it sees fit. However, if there are areas of Neo Tyr that are still in need of potable water or reliable power, the Miervatian Engineering Corps could airlift in and operate the heavy machinery necessary to restore public ultilities vital to any reconstruction effort. The Corps recently completed emergency repairs in Miervatia after this winter's ice storms, and prior to that had field experience in Ottoman Khaif, after that nation was devasted by a massive earthquake. When power and water are restored, the Corps can be airlifted out again.

We'd also like to affirm that the IRCO has convinced my government to provide medical care to civilians who were injured during the fighting if your government would be willing to allow them to be flown to Mikitivity for care.

To:
Howie T. Katt, Acting Director
Disaster Response Office
Cofederated City States of Mikitivity
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
Subject: Heavy machinery

You may utilize Kyrall airport for your needs, such as it is. We thought that you would be sending an advance team to best scout out what resources ad facilities can be used to assist in your efforts.

Whether aid comes in the form of ships, airplane, or other means, all will be subject to inspection. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter.

====

-We really don't have any personnel in the area.
-That is why we are asking help from our allies. As well, the JDF and other state forces have been contacted. Still, prepare an initial advance team from Killamo's fleet. How long until the projection fleets are ready?
-We can have at least four fleets ready to go within the day.
-Excellent. If the rest of the Klatch is reluctant to conduct inspections, then we shall.

OOC: Sorry about the delay again. I just picked up a lot of IC commitments.

IC: Neo Tyr was intact, for the most part. Well, except for Kyrall, which still was a disaster area. Kyrall was also still hell to get to, transit throughout the Archipelago was hindered greatly because of the Klatichans. And most doctors were too afraid to leave the areas they knew well, nasty rumors of 'knocks in the dark' were circulating within the intellectual community.

---

To: Mikitivity, Intl Red Cross
From: Marimeta Cicily Llamanian, House Sister to Great House Llamanian and Princess of Neo Tyr
Subject: My Deepest Thanks

For any aid in Kyrall you may give, I doubt I'll ever be able to properly thank you or compensate you properly, but rest assured if you can provide aid the thousands you save in Kyrall will be indebted to your charity as well.

---

Cicero Vassal frowned a frown at Dashwood with an air of superiority, as a master might use on a rowdy servant. "Look, Miss Dashwood, if I had any trust here, I'd love it. But currently you and your little barbarian and walrus friends have raped Kyrall, so trust towards your kind is a rare commodity."

He didn't respond to her little farewell speech and simply left, his bodyguards following him. She did have a point on the weather, though. Although it was above freezing, there were howling winds accompanied by a heavy downpour. Aprils in Easterling were fierce.

---

It was a sleepy day up north in the Crown and Hammer inn. Two friends sat in the upper level of the eatery, looking over the ocean and the small frozen islands dotting it. "Damn Vrakians," The fisherman muttered.

His friend turned to him, taking his gaze off the Alconian news, which almost everyone here in Heathcote considered outland propaganda. But it was better than nothing.

The fisherman decided to continue. "They decided to leave the South Seas and to the three western islands. Scared away a big school of fish. I hear they're burning down the forests in the Isle of Bears, too."

The friend nodded. "Y'know, I got a friend down in Hammer Bay, and he said the Vrakians have been killing scientists. Y'know that Doctor Morton? M'friend says that the Vrakans took 'im out in the streets and shoot 'im in the temple." He said, his hand an imaginary rifle shooting an invisible bullet.

"Wouldn't put it past 'em. When are they supposed to pull out?"

The friend looked around for a moment. "I hear... I hear they're never gonna pull out. They gon' be here forever, take over this land. The damn government sold us to outland depots. But... Well, I got a friend, see. He's a southerner, true, lives all the way in Maulini, but... He's a member of the Neo Tyrinian Liberation Front. They're a group 'a people who exist to bring back Tyrinian power in Neo Tyr and drive out the outlanders- the way it should be."

The fisherman leaned foreword. "Tell me more..."

It was morning when the flying boat left Port Olympus. It carried Vice Admiral Fitz-Hume. The Admiral was being sent to deliever a message to the Princess of Neo Tyr and her 'advisors' from the Parliament and Privy Council of The Federation.

The Deyllians had been informed that a meeting was going to take place and for them to make all the needed security arangements.

*******
Lord Haart found himself on a large floating dock somewhere west of Kyrall and being hauled towards that most blighted island. The dock contained two rows of 120 emergency housing units stacked three units tall. And it wasn't the only one.

******
Lord Vassel was awoken the same morning to a sargent at arms banging on the bars of his cell in the brig. "Good morning Lord Vassel. I am afraid I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that no one knows why you were arrested, and what the charges were. Supposedly there is a Federal Warrant for your arrest." The Maine shrugged. "The good news is that since no one can provide it, we've just made you a POW again. And even better news, you have a lunchen meeting to attend."

The man handed through a pair of gray pajamas. "Now then, if you'll change we will get your cloths all clean, dry and pressed." He paused for a second, "Oh and one more thing your lordship. Welcome to the United Duchies."

Dashwood was in a bad mood yet again, when she left Vassal. Bloody snooty nobles. They seemed to view the Dyellians as a pack of unwelcome rats that had crawled up from the sewer uninvited. Never mind the fact that they had attacked Dyelli Beybi first. They should be grateful the Dyellians hadn't invited hte North Germanians or Midlonians to join in the party in Easterling.

She was also worried about the state of readiness of the Dyellian troops in Easterling. They were ready for a fight, but they had fairly limited ammunition, and Cooper had flat out refused to fortify the central city, saying it would only "agravate the situation". They had very few armoured vehicles, and were lacking a propper logistics train. If any large scale revolution were to take place here the garrison would be very hard pressed to survive.

To compound matters, the Kriegsmarine had sailed back to Dyelli Beybi with all the transports, save for half a dozen sea planes. Apparently they were going to do some evacuation work in Rogue Jiggady.

Leaving the Governor's Headquarters sent a chill blast of cold air across the young Commisaar, it seemed to cut right to the bone, and the greatcoat did very little. She picked up her pace, hurrying back towards her own offices. She needed to talk to Felix...

... The office was abuzz with the news that Alconians were arriving. She sent a messenger off to the Princess, then tasked Baldwin with organising security. Felix was brief on the phone, he hadn't lost interest in Neo Tyr, but it was becoming clear the senior Commisaar was begining to see little possibility of any political Alliance with Neo Tyr, "I'm recalling you to Klatch. We're going to try to cut a deal with the Vrakians to get your Vassal fellow back, I'm sending Deputy Chief Constable Reilly to take over the whole Neo Tyr affair, hopefully his added rank will allow him to lean on that fool Cooper some more... when can we expect you back on home soil Commisaar?"

"Soon. Soon. I just have a little business to tie up here, I'll be gone by the end of the day." It was thankful. Dashwood really quite enjoyed being alive, but (in her usual pessimistic manner) had decided the life expectancy of those left in Easterling was about to drop significantly.

She set off to find the last person she needed to speak with on this God forsaken island. Ross Kajar...

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

From: Benjia House, Cheka Headquarters
To: Vrakian Intelligence
Subject: Prisoner exchange
We understand the Vrakian Government is holding prisoner the Neo Tyran known as Lance Vassal. He is of extreme value to the Cheka, and we would very much like for him to be released into Cheka care. In return, we can assure you that the Dyellian Keys will support all Vrakian propositions in parliament that do not directly conflict with the welfare of Dyelli Beybi.

Regards,
Chief Constable Felix Dzerzhinsky

Vrak Prime

The shipyards were humming. With the arrival of Cosa Tula shipyards from Ilek-Vaad along with Stevenson shipbuilding acquired from Santa Barbara, not to mention the domestic companies of Hyperion and Gargantua, it would seem that Vrak had entered a golden age of shipbuilding. Well, not quite. But all the ports have been busy and continue to be so. New ships, new designs, and most importantly, new money set aside for the navy. There were, of course, rumours that Vrak was actually going to decrease its wet navy and finally throw its industrial weight behind the building of a proper space navy, but most dismissed that as far fetched. After all, wasn’t there only one prototype that flew and didn’t it wallow like a whale? And there were rumours of advanced unarmed combat drones replacing fighter pilots. Still…

====

-It’s a good day, eh High Admiral?
-A very good day.
-With the disbanding and scrapping of the Dauntless and Aeris class, the shifting to the new type III and V projection fleets, and the removal of the type IV program, we have been able to establish our goal of keeping smaller, mobile projection type III fleets along with the “big stick”, as it were, type IV. Course, the type III will serve as an initial blue water projection to the various far flung FKC territories with the type V ready to provide heavy hitting power. As well, we’ve been able to get an emergency increase to cover our losses expected in Clairmont. In total, it gives us 35 new fleets along with an increase in submarine personnel. We even have 14 000 sailors for a reserve or perhaps into newer ships, should the become available.
-Excellent Admiral Youi. Once again you have outdone yourself in reorganizing the navy. Killamo is coming home.
-He is retiring? Well, he has served his country well. I only met him once. Unfortunate about his brother during the Dozle war. He is a true hero.
-That he is. I may retire soon as well. And a walrus of your caliber is one that I believe could fill this seat. Keep that in mind for the next review.

====

Along the way to his new ship the VNF Boarhunter, the new Battlefleet Admiral took stock of his new fleet destined to Neo Tyr. Four Type V and 8 Type III plus an undisclosed amount of submarines. Even the 2nd Bombard Fleet was being activated for this campaign. By Bok’s whiskers, as he quickly did the calculations in his head, that’s over 200 ships and 430 000 troops. That should make those pakrahs pay.

====

Killamo was heading home with the two fleets. Of course, there would be overlap since the High Command did want to keep their presence there. Personally, he felt it was a bad idea but then he was thankful to be gone from this pakrah infested land called Neo Tyr. Let the new Battlefleet Admiral take over here. For him, he was looking forward to ending his illustrious career in the tropics and finally mourn the death of his brother.

====

To:
Chief Constable Felix Dzerzhinsky
Benjia House, Cheka Headquarters
From:
Vrakian Intelligence Service
Subject: Lance Vassal

The individual known as Lance Vassal was turned over to JDF authorities. Perhaps Port Olympus can help you since the matter is now out of our hands.