Fluffywuffy
30-12-2004, 02:28
Imperial City, Fluffyuffy
The high marble walls of the Imperial Palace, home of the Confederate Council, were impenetrable, resting high atop Mikhail Hill, named for the old Emperor Mikhail I. Gaurd posts dotted the massive walls, aircraft patroled overhead, and even a moat detered intruders. The massive palace gates, wrought of solid steel, were thought to be able to withstand even tank rounds.
But most of the defences were inactive. Gaurd posts were mostly empty, and had been so for a decade; the Empire had fallen, and the Confederacy stood in its place. There was no need to protect the Emperor's home. Even neo-imperialists tried to work through legal means.
Half way up Mikhail Hill in an old military truck, the next month's gaurds were driving to take over the watch duty. All of these men were handpicked by Captain John William Ryan, the Palace's new commander. The old captain died in a freak car accident. As per tradition, the new Captain picked his gaurds and replaced the old commander's troops.
Today, Captain Ryan was in a meeting with the local CIB officer, to discuss the possibility of a terrorist attack. A few CIB officers patrolled the walls, and the old captain's troops were ordered into the Palace to sweep for bombs. An emergency session of the Council was in, and the Captain had to be sure that it was safe to hold that session. Not that they could leave; Confederate law dictates that the session cannot end until its goals have been accomplished, until midnight, or until the President, Ronald Boothes, called it off. It was 7:30, and the President was not tired by the Council yet.
The second set of gaurds arrive from the northern gate, and were ordered to patrol the exterior of the palace for an hour, then they'd get to choose their quaters.
An hour later, the gaurds finished their exterior patrols and went to choose their quarters. They practically ran over each other to try and get the top bunks in the barracks with the best view of the palace.
While this was going on, blast rang out. Then another. And another. The men ran to the palace, and what they found shocked them. Somehow, a bomb had eluded the old gaurds' sweep and had detonated in the Council floor, killing almost all of the Councilmen. Most of the old gaurds lay dead. Two of them remained, clutching automatic weapons and standing at the far end of the floor.
Then something even more unexpected happened. The two men opened fire with automatic weapons, mowing down the last surviving Councilmen and causing the new gaurds to duck. A cry of "For the Empire!" rose over the smoke, and the two men rushed the new gaurds with grenades and automatic weapons fire.
The new gaurds performed horribly. They scrambled to get out of the way of the grenades, trampling one another and ending in half of them dying with the first grenade. Another quarter with the second. The rest died from weapons fire. None of them had flak jackets or body armor, and all were apparantly flunkies in basic training. A full twenty dead gaurds killed by just two men.
The two men, both with dark faces, dark hair, and dimunutive stature, had killed two whole platoons of Confederate Gaurds. One of them, Private James, let out a yell of triumph. The other, Private Martin, went back into the debris that was the Council Chamber and retrieved a head. It belonged to the President.
Running outside, the two men and a group of CIB men--apparantly accomplists--loaded into a truck and drove off into the night. They had destroyed the Confederacy with a single, flawless, operation. No one, not even the Captain, could stop them now.
Talon Base, Outside Imperial City
"Shit!" It was General Teddy Stewart. He was shocked by the news of the attack on the Palace. The government is dead. No one is in charge, he thought. Except him. By law, he was now temporarily in total control of the Confederacy. He was going to go live to the world in a few hours, and he'd already let news of the attack leak to the world. God, hope I made the right choice, he thought.
OOC: Writing skills are a bit rusty, but comments please. Both OOC and IC. I'd like to see what the world thinks of my government being destroyed.
The high marble walls of the Imperial Palace, home of the Confederate Council, were impenetrable, resting high atop Mikhail Hill, named for the old Emperor Mikhail I. Gaurd posts dotted the massive walls, aircraft patroled overhead, and even a moat detered intruders. The massive palace gates, wrought of solid steel, were thought to be able to withstand even tank rounds.
But most of the defences were inactive. Gaurd posts were mostly empty, and had been so for a decade; the Empire had fallen, and the Confederacy stood in its place. There was no need to protect the Emperor's home. Even neo-imperialists tried to work through legal means.
Half way up Mikhail Hill in an old military truck, the next month's gaurds were driving to take over the watch duty. All of these men were handpicked by Captain John William Ryan, the Palace's new commander. The old captain died in a freak car accident. As per tradition, the new Captain picked his gaurds and replaced the old commander's troops.
Today, Captain Ryan was in a meeting with the local CIB officer, to discuss the possibility of a terrorist attack. A few CIB officers patrolled the walls, and the old captain's troops were ordered into the Palace to sweep for bombs. An emergency session of the Council was in, and the Captain had to be sure that it was safe to hold that session. Not that they could leave; Confederate law dictates that the session cannot end until its goals have been accomplished, until midnight, or until the President, Ronald Boothes, called it off. It was 7:30, and the President was not tired by the Council yet.
The second set of gaurds arrive from the northern gate, and were ordered to patrol the exterior of the palace for an hour, then they'd get to choose their quaters.
An hour later, the gaurds finished their exterior patrols and went to choose their quarters. They practically ran over each other to try and get the top bunks in the barracks with the best view of the palace.
While this was going on, blast rang out. Then another. And another. The men ran to the palace, and what they found shocked them. Somehow, a bomb had eluded the old gaurds' sweep and had detonated in the Council floor, killing almost all of the Councilmen. Most of the old gaurds lay dead. Two of them remained, clutching automatic weapons and standing at the far end of the floor.
Then something even more unexpected happened. The two men opened fire with automatic weapons, mowing down the last surviving Councilmen and causing the new gaurds to duck. A cry of "For the Empire!" rose over the smoke, and the two men rushed the new gaurds with grenades and automatic weapons fire.
The new gaurds performed horribly. They scrambled to get out of the way of the grenades, trampling one another and ending in half of them dying with the first grenade. Another quarter with the second. The rest died from weapons fire. None of them had flak jackets or body armor, and all were apparantly flunkies in basic training. A full twenty dead gaurds killed by just two men.
The two men, both with dark faces, dark hair, and dimunutive stature, had killed two whole platoons of Confederate Gaurds. One of them, Private James, let out a yell of triumph. The other, Private Martin, went back into the debris that was the Council Chamber and retrieved a head. It belonged to the President.
Running outside, the two men and a group of CIB men--apparantly accomplists--loaded into a truck and drove off into the night. They had destroyed the Confederacy with a single, flawless, operation. No one, not even the Captain, could stop them now.
Talon Base, Outside Imperial City
"Shit!" It was General Teddy Stewart. He was shocked by the news of the attack on the Palace. The government is dead. No one is in charge, he thought. Except him. By law, he was now temporarily in total control of the Confederacy. He was going to go live to the world in a few hours, and he'd already let news of the attack leak to the world. God, hope I made the right choice, he thought.
OOC: Writing skills are a bit rusty, but comments please. Both OOC and IC. I'd like to see what the world thinks of my government being destroyed.