NationStates Jolt Archive

Frigidaqua has agreed to host the now "Northern Union Conference" in Magna Frigida, the capital island of Frigidaqua located just southwest of Norway. The Magna Frigida Aeroport (EMFA) cannot handle any aircraft larger than a Boeing 757-300, so please plan accordingly. If a nation needs to land a larger aircraft, please land at Paradise City International Airport (EPIC), located around 400 miles to the south of Frigidaqua on an island off of Germany. The island itself is controlled by The Great Sixth Reich, but delegates were given permission to use the airport by The Great Sixth Reich. A FrigidAir CRJ-700 will ferry delegates from EPIC to EMFA if needed.

You must follow proper landing procedure at any of the two airports listed. That means asking for landing clearence.

Invited List:

The Great Sixth Reich Scandinavia (TG6R Scandinavia) (Denmark, Norway, Finland, Kalingrad, and Latvia)
United North (Svalbard and Faroe)
Frigidaqua (North Sea Islands)
USSNA (Iceland)
The Most Glorious Hack (Greenland)

Delegates will be screened for weapons apon landing either at EPIC or EMFA.

"Magna Appoarch, Lufthansa Three is type Fokker 50, at 15,000."

"Lufthansa Three, decend and maintain 5,000. Turn right to runway heading."

"Decend and maintain 5,000, Lufthansa Three."

Five minutes later:

"Lufthansa Three, you are six-zero miles East. Cleared ILS, runway 01 appoarch. Maintain runway heading, decend and maintain 3,100 until established on the localizer. Contact Magna Frigid Tower on 131.90."

"Cleared ILS, runway 01. Maintaining heading and decending and maintain 3,100 until established. Contacting tower on 131.90, Lufthansa Three."

"Magna Frigid Tower, Lufthansa Three is 60 miles East, inbound ILS runway 01."

"Lufthansa Three, make straight in, runway 01."

"Make straight in, runway 01, Lufthansa Three."

Five minutes later:

"Lufthansa Three, cleared to land, runway 01."

"Cleared to land, runway 01, Lufthansa Three."

After a perfect landing:

"Lufthansa Three, turn next taxiway."

"Lufthansa Three, contact Ground on 130.3."

"Going to 130.3, Lufthansa Three."

"Male Ground, Lufthansa Three requests taxi to the VIP gate."

"Lufthansa Three, taxi to gate Zulu Three, via taxiway Alpha."

"Taxing to gate Zulu Three, via taxiway Alpha, Lufthansa Three."

Fokker 50:

http://img113.exs.cx/img113/9306/36-254721.jpg

Bump for Frigidaqua!

Outside Magna Frigida Aeroport

Zaraad glanced over his controls. Seemed he was getting close to his destination. He sighed, getting ready to call in to the tower. He always hated this sort of thing. It seemed to be a rather large waste of time. He'd far prefer landing on some little strip and getting a taxi, or renting a car, but rules were rules, he supposed. Anyway, get the silly landing procedure over, and move on to the meat of the conferance. I wonder what it's about...

"Tower control, this is Cesna 18-H-b, requesting permission to land for the conference."

OOC: Can I get an invite, or am I not considered a super-power? :rolleyes:

How about this: If invited, I'll stop Vineyard's little war.

OOC: Can I get an invite, or am I not considered a super-power? :rolleyes:

How about this: If invited, I'll stop Vineyard's little war.

I really did not appreciate this post of yours (if it was aimed at me). (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=7715713&postcount=1215)

OOC: Can I get an invite, or am I not considered a super-power? :rolleyes:

OOC: Your welcome to join. I was actually on the verge of inviting you, as Russia is pretty far north. :)

Outside Magna Frigida Aeroport

Zaraad glanced over his controls. Seemed he was getting close to his destination. He sighed, getting ready to call in to the tower. He always hated this sort of thing. It seemed to be a rather large waste of time. He'd far prefer landing on some little strip and getting a taxi, or renting a car, but rules were rules, he supposed. Anyway, get the silly landing procedure over, and move on to the meat of the conferance. I wonder what it's about...

"Tower control, this is Cesna 18-H-b, requesting permission to land for the conference."

"Cessna One-Eight-Hotel-Bravo, cleared Vectors Visual, Runway 17L. Make straight in."

OOC: Conference is on a possible "pact" like alliance for nations of the Far North, for protection from crazy Dictators like Vineyard. TG6R will also announce that these nations will be cleared through the arctic without stopping (TG6R controls the Arctic, but the complete story is not posted yet due to pressing issues).

Bump!

Bump!

"Roger, I've got the vector." Dargan swung the cessna around, lining up his approach, and letting the automated landing system take over. He yawned softly: it'd been a long flight, and he was looking forward to stretching his legs a little. And maybe having some coffee that wasn't the instant crap in the plane. He idly wondered why the OUOS didn't have a bigger budget, but when your funding was typically refered to as "Government Waste", you couldn't expect to get increases. He shrugged. The Oligarchy was cutting back on its expenses anyway. And, Hell, he still got money, which wasn't too bad considering the Oligarchy didn't exactly tax anyone.

The plane touched down gently, expertly really. Of course, that was what it was programmed to do. He keyed up the microphone again, "Cessna One-Eight-Hotel-Bravo requesting a nice lil' gate to park at, so I can get out of this flying pillbox?"

"Cessna One-Eight-Hotel-Bravo, taxi to gate Zulu Two, via taxiway Alpha."

"Roger."

Dargan swung the plane around, following the assigned taxiway to the appropriate gate. Once he arrived, he ran through his end-of-flight check list (well, largely, he ignored a couple steps), crabbed his carryall and disembarked.

He had to be about the most average man a person could ever hope to meet. He was 5'9", 173 pounds, short brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a simple, unimpressive suit and black loafers. He was the type of person who could vanish in a crowd without even trying.

He approached the nearest official, "Ah, hello. I'm Dargan Zaraad, head of the OUOS from the Hack. I'm here for the conference."

Jack steped off one of his countries newest purchuses: a super-sonic private jet, customized for presidental needss of course. Not suprised, he counted the trip to be less than half an hour.

As usual, he was met by his body guards who were already off the plane. Because of the no weapon rule they only have tazers and 9mm pistols with rubber bullets. It was a short walk off the runway and into the terminal. Upon entering they we asked by guards to show all weaponry. After a short check, they were let pass security. "Where to next?" Jack woundered.

(just something short but it will be all I can do at the moment.)

The minister of Foreign Affairs stepped out of the Learjet. He was followed (or more proper, the other ones left the plane first) by a delegation of 6 people from the United North government.

”Hope this conference will give something. I don’t like the frosty relations with USSNA.” said the minister of Foreign Affairs, Vigdur Vikingson.

”According to my list, the delegates from USSNA arrived earlier today.” replied one of the delegates.

OOC: TG6R, I would appreciate if you would like to shrink the photo of the plane, it messes up my screen...

The delegates were wisked through two secruity systems before entering a limo to the conference:

Delegates were lead into a secruity room where they are walked through a metal detector and an EntryScan3 portal (looks like a metal detector, but scans delegates from drugs and explosives using air samples).

EntryScan3:

http://www.geindustrial.com/ge-interlogix/images/iontrack/prod_escan.jpg

Jack sat in the suite that was his hotel room; looking out upon the city of Magna Frigida. "Sir, you wanted me to inform you when Vigdur Vikingson arrived?" said one of his aids who had recently steped into the room.

"Yes, thank you. Will you alert him that I wish to speak with him as soon as possible?" replied Jack.

"Yes sir, I will do so right away sir." answered the aid. "The Faeroe Islands will be ours. Be it through the preffered diplomatic way; or the other, more, forceful way." Jack thought to himself.

OOC: I’ll RP your character a little, hope it’s ok.

IC:
Vigdur was just about to enter the conference room when the man from USSNA came up on his right side.

“Excuse me, sir! Jack wants to have a meeting with you.” said the man.

“OK, I guess we have something to talk about. You can tell him that I’ll be waiting for him in the restaurant in about half an hour. I haven’t eaten in five hours, so I hope it’s ok if I eat while we speak.” replied Vikingson.

“Yes, I’ll tell him that. Thank you sir.” said the man politely and went away.

“Gentlemen, I must send a telegram to the government, I’ll be right back!” Vikingson turned around and went back into his suite. He opened up his laptop and began to write a message to the government of United North:

To: The house of President, Svalbard, United North.

I’m going to meet Jack, USSNA, in half an hour. What should I tell him? I need to know if we have some proof of their military buildup!

OOC: TG6R, I would appreciate if you would like to shrink the photo of the plane, it messes up my screen...[OOC: Or just remove it all together. We know what a Fokker looks like.]

Dargan, not surprizingly, had nothing out of the ordinary on his person. He and his bag walked with little fuss to the limo, relaxing in the back and closing his eyes. By the time the limo had pulled away, he was asleep, waking up just as it pulled to a stop in front of the conference hall.

He hopped out and wandered in. After spending a couple minutes trying to get someone's attention, he manged to find out where the conference would be held, and where his room was. He went to the later first, dropping off his bag before heading to the former.

Gaylord Fokker III, the Princeps of Frigidaqua, would be attending the conference himself.

He was already at the conference hall, in the Royal Frigidaquan Hotel, seating on a counch, relaxing.

When the delegates arrived, he announced:

"Today is the Northern Union Conference... On the Agenda:

1. To set up an alliance of nations located in the "Far North".
2. To settle claims of lands in the "Far North".
3. To establish tradeing and travel routes in the "Far North".

Bump!

"Okay Jack, so you want to take control over the Faeroe Islands? How is that supposed to happen?" asked Vigdur Vikingson.

"You know that they belong to United North. Although our government is settled in Svalbard it does not mean that we don't care about this islands." he continued.

"It's best to play the hard man here." he thought for himself.

Bump!

BUMP!

Post!

Or I'll "Verbero con baculo" you.

Come on...