NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Since all the RPs I've currently been reading have devolved into ridiculous "OMG I SHOOT 603062260293 WANK-MISSILES THAT COME FROM 71351 MILLION MILES AWAY AT YOUR FLEET LOLOLOL!!!1" fests, I figure I may as well make a holiday-appropriate thread.

IC:

Arctic Ocean

Two VTR-60A Shadowhawk insertion helicopter cut through the frozen, barren landscape of the Arctic Circle, escorted only by four VTA-82 Knight VTOL gunships. Every single December, something had peaked the interest of the Tyrandisan intelligence community in this most remote of places.

Satellite photographs, taken from high orbit, had found evidence of a massive industrial facility that kicked into high gear during the winter. Although they could never quite locate the exact position, the wafts of smoke clearly indicated that something was going on.

For over two decades, TNIA worked at ascertaining the nature of this phenomenon. This year, they solved the conundrum; Santa Claus was at work, constructing gifts for the various deserving children in the world. It was a giant conspiracy. First, the toys were shipped out from the Workshop, and distributed to various shell companies. These then arranged for a postal service, known as "Sleigh Bells Inc.", to ship the packages to their respective targets.

However, the more TNIA found out, the deeper the mystery became, like Alice and the proverbial rabbit hole.

To continue gathering information on this bizarre situation, a team of Special Operations Forces, class Echo, were assembled. They were the creme de la creme of the feared TSOCOM, and were more than up to the task.

---

Captain Namie Amuro surveyed the vast tundra of the North Pole.

She wasn't particularly cold, thanks to the internal temperature control of her SICS Mk. II combat system, but she was rather irritated that her team of Pathfinders were being sent to this god-forsaken place to search for magic elves. “Why the hell am I here?!” cursed the SF operator as she led the small band to the target, designated AVALANCE.

Trudging through the frozen ground wasn’t quite as bad as the training was for the Pathfinders, but it was still quite tiring. The Shadowhawks couldn’t drop the team straight into the position, as TNIA wanted the small unit to go unnoticed. The roaring arctic winds bit at the group of six, but still they advanced.

“1st Lieutenant Mayumi,” began Amuro, “How many more kilometers until we reach the target?” The Pathfinder in question swiftly took out a field map and calculated the distance that they had traveled. “Approximately sixty more, ma’am!” responded the soldier.

“God damnit!” cursed Namie as she kicked the snow. There was nothing to see here, nothing at all besides mile after mile of arctic landscape.

Suddenly, she saw something move in the wasteland.

Activating the thermal imaging filter on her helmet, she watched in incredulence as a short, human-like creature bounded about in the far distance. Pulling out her TAR-21A2 Tavor-III assault rifle, she swiftly leveled it at the apparition. Her rangefinder indicated that it was at 200 yds away.

“Halt!” she shouted. When the target didn’t stop, she pulled the trigger on her gun, sending a silenced bullet into its leg. The incapacitated victim swiftly hit the ground. Suddenly, the six Pathfinders were in full assault mode, running towards the fallen creature at full speed. When they caught up, the team couldn’t believe their eyes.

It was an elf, a thing of fairytales, lying in front of them, screaming in pain as the howling polar winds drowned out his cries...

OOC: Yes, I know this is too early to say this, but I won't have time later so just pretend this happens later on.

Official Statement

We too have qualms with Santa's Workshop. Or shall we say, Satan's Workshop.Year after year, Mr. Kringle sets off radar alarms on Christmas day, costing us thousands of dollars and causing panic. We also have a problem with his slave labor. There are no such thing as elves, just little children that Mr. Kringle forces to build toy after toy. We would love to see him out of business, as it would remove our biggest toy export competitor.

In an attempt to assasinate Santa the Largentian government has issued an order to pollute as much as possible. As the Polar Icecaps melt Santa will plunge to his doom in the sea unless his fat insulates him.

This is why we have an elf inside his shop working as a mole so that he may finish the fat man off. The elf's name is Frank.

(Could I join, perhaps? If not, just say so. And if not, you are extremly unintelegent and I hate you. If so, you are mind numbingly intelegent and I admire you.)

Intelegence HQ, Northern Project Industrial's security complex


Hassik frowned as he observed the radar reports brought to him. Something was definitly not right. These sure as hell were not reasearchers, that had already been established by intelegence, and Hassik could see no other possibliltity than some goverment funded military project. By why, and how? It did not matter.

These madmen could not be allowed to interfere with this years shipement. For hundreds of years, this deal had been going on. It was an operation like no other in the world.

First, a barrage of advertising over North American, French and British media, preparing the market and softning them up.

Then, an extensive, thourough survey conducted through Voluntary mail delivery(that part always astounded Hassik) to calculate the EXACT number of EVERY single thing, an exact and perfectly accurate number, of the entire amount and number of every product needed to be manufactured.

Then, the big payoff. In partnership with the coarperations, hundreds upon thousands of low payed latino pilots are sent out to deliver the shipement in it's entirity, directed by GPS's inplanted in commercial evergreen trees that somehow always conveniently ended up being in style around that time.

And then, the very best part, the coarperations would give the cut to CEO Nicolas, and then Hassik and the others got there pay, and went on vacation until the next year.

This had been going on foralmost hundreds of years, and Hassik would be damned if he was going to drop the ball now. This was to beautifull an operation, and more importantly, the pay with this job was letting Hassik enjoy the finer things in life, to say the least.

Santa's Director of Security jumped of his chair, and putting on a heavy fur jacket, he rushed to the barracks. Hassik stood about 3 foot 11, and he was light enough that he would not sink into the snow.

Main Barracks, Northern Project Industrial's Security Complex

Hassik paced slowly up and down the hallway, inspecting his hand picked team. The finest men available, and the most loyal he had on top of that. He began addresing Pavol, the captain, a fine, experienced soldier. This man had fought in the Greenland campaign, single handedly sunk a troublesome Portoguese fishing vessel AND been in charge of the squad that carried out "Operation Polar Expulsion". This man was a force to be reckoned with, and he looked it, standing at an intimidating 4 foot 2.

"Now, as I said before, we don't know what this is, it may be nothing. We DO NOT want this to go out to the coarperations, it could very well start a panic that would tremendously hurt our bussiness. This is likely just some sort of exploration team or something of the sort. All I want you to do is to find out what it is. If it is hostile or could be potentialy troublesome, deal with it, quitly. Don't let it find ANYTHING, and for god sakes, deal with it before this gets to the coarperations. Your our finest men, gentlemen."He said, addressing all the Special Ops team now."I am counting on you to deal with this before it causes any trouble. The helicopter is waiting for you outside, all gassed up and ready to go. I trust it will be returned safely."

And with that, the Director of Security walked out of the room.