NationStates Jolt Archive

(CLOSED RP, Anti-Elf war only.
Join here:
http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=385646)

King Robert announced today that the Senate would be pushing through a set of laws greatly restricting the movement of elves, gnomes, dwarves and all other sub-human species.
"Lets face it, Elves are arrogant jerk offs, gnomes are increadibly agressive, and dwarves are alchaholics. The whole lot of them should be shot, and would be if the secret po-...if the police werent so busy putting down all the anti-halfbreed riots. This set of laws will help keep THEM safe, as well as our own full-citizens."

The laws include curfews, recenscion of voting rights, obligatory registration/ID cards and barcoding. Also, it is now illigal for any of the species to own weapons. Massive amounts of Dwarven people have been arrested for refusal to part with their axes.

---

AntiElf riots in G'oaway have killed more than five hundred this weekend, along with a number of elves. At present riot police and paramilitary forces are attempting to calm the populace.
Six elves have been brought up on charges of inciting riotous behavior, and the 'information retrieval technicians' are currently hard at work interogating the elves as to their role in the riots.

In the mean time the Royal Investigations Department has concluded that the explosive decompression of Bay Six and Pax Drive Yards was caused by dwarven sabatures, this was determined by the presence of a number of axes, helmets and extremly wide but very short chain mail shirts found in the area, as well as the graffitti reading 'Dwarv sabturz did tis!' scrawled over the interior loading bay and the partialy completed Justice class destroyer, which was, oddly, totaly untouched.

Githras looked over the reports with dispair, long before he had been chosen to bare the Moonblade, and became king, before his people had begun their search for a new home he had sworn an oath as a Bladesinger. Part of that oath was the protection of all elves, he had sworn to give his life for his people, where ever one of his race was in danger, he had sworn to risk his own existence to give them aid. Now through he had a kingdom, a nation to protect, it put him in a delicate position.

'Mel'saris with the Agents of my friend still at rest it falls to you, and your 'Class-Mates, your instructors tell me you are ready, do you accept the role?'

Before him Knelt a 'Young' Elf, she was striking in many ways, even amongest a near ageless race she had an air of youth about her, an endless energy, and a sense of opptimism as she nodded. The first class of the Blade-Singers accedmy's had graduated, the first in Giltheran's homegrown Bladesingers, Mel'Saris was the top ranked student, now she would be put to the test, in the field, in the life she had accepted for herself.

Drawing his Moonblade, his badge of office, Githras turned to face the young woman and nodded, 'Then arise Lady Mel'Saris, Bladesinger, Servent of the Seldarine, never forget the duty you have accepted, and know that the cost of the life you have chosen is much, but know you repersent the greatest in us.'

With the words spoken he smiled a moment 'This is what I need you and your class to do....' The Two plotted long into the night, when day broke Seven figures left the Palace of Souls for the docks, a Spell-jammer would carry them most of the way and remain nearby incase it was needed, the new Bladesingers had much work ahead of them, but they travelled with a lightness of feet.'

Prime Minister Darcy Galards facepalms as she watches the news report. What kind of dwarf would leave his ax behind? That's got to be the shoddiest support for a repressive action I've ever seen. Rubbing her right temple she stands and walks over to the communications terminal. An hour and a few meetings later she drafts the following statement.

Due to the obvious repressive actions of the government of Dontgonearthere(ooc:is there another name or something I should use?) the government of DNS has no choice but to condemn with the harshest possible connotation the restrictions laid on any sentient being within that country's borders. DNS has always had the policy of equality among sentients in our nation so long as they respected the laws of the land and that torture is to heinous a practice to be used under any circumstance. It is obvious that the governmental body of Dontgonearthere has either been led astray by people framing non-human sentients or they have been complicit in those actions.

I myself and others in the government wish to see this crisis handled peaceably, with full rights and privacy being restored to those sentients that have had it taken from them.

Darcy Galards,
Prime Minister of DNS

Sergeant Powhattan grumbled as he shoved his troops in line, making sure they had their shields held correctly, last riot he had three officers taken out by their own stupidity when something heavy hit the shield and broke their arms. He finished up, kicking a reluctant private into place.
behind the first line of shield-bearers men with smaller shields, but armed with stunpikes, clubs and guns. The more experienced troops who wouldnt accidentaly knock out their own men while running away.
"Pikes! READY!"
Down the street a shifting crowd of Elves was advancing down the street, occasionaly hurling objects in a serene and calm manner, occasionaly a snatch of something poetic could be heard.
The riot troops fixed their stunpikes, twenty foot long poles with an electrified shaft capable of delivering a nasty shock to anything with a less than five inch thick hide.
Advancing at a shuffled designed to keep the formation and break the rioters into small groups that could be dealt with by the officers with clubs the formation advanced down the street.
Moments later the two lines met, a few of the elves made undignified attempts to jump, or pull themselves, over the riot shields, and were dealt with by a 'swift tap on the noggin'. They made squelchy noises as they were trod on by both rioters and the police.
The stunpikes did their work, and the crowd of pointy-eared protestors was fragmented fairly quickly.
And in the classic cliche' of riots that turn bloody everywhere, somebody fired a shot.
It was rather unclear (again, cliche', but it works) where the shot came from, but one riot officers head vanished in a pale pink spray, coating nearby elves and officers with brains, skull fragments and arterial blood.
There was a pause.
The mans body crumpled, with a very final thump.
This was apparently the signal for the officers to draw sidearms (Which they technically didnt have, but a recent waiver had allowed them to carry this day) and begin blasting the elvish protestors into oblivion.
Within a few minutes the massacre was over, only two riot officers had been killed, for some five hundred elves on the street that day.
Many riots ended in similar fashion, inexplicable provocation appearing apparently from nowhere, but giving the riot officers the authority to take things to a rather extreme measure.

EDIT:
(OOC: DGNT works fine, even for IC, if its not official or anything :))

IC:
To: The Prime Minister of DNS
From: King Robert, Soverign Ruler of Dontgonearthere and United of the Five States
Subj:
Ha! DGNT has never allowed its policy to be dictated to it by other nations, and we sure as hell arent going to start now. If you would like you can. Its fairly obvious to ME that dwarves are responsible for the blowout at PDY, after all, they tagged the yard while they were at it. As for your 'letter' only proves that Elves are as arrogant as I say. In any case, what gives you the right to tell US what to do?
If you would like, we can send those elves that wish to leave to your nation, provided you can setup transportation.

---

DNN News:
In other news, the Senate has passed the 'Elven deportation act', as a result of the riots and deaths caused by the Elven population.
The act states that ALL Elves, half-elves, and any of Evlen descent, must depart from the country of Dontgonearthere within a specified fourtyeight hour period or face harsh measures.
A similar bill is being composed for dwarves and other half-breeds, but we have reason to beleive that they are a minor presence in this Elven plot to destabilize our great country.

High Lord Acorn watched thoughtfully as the law was announced. His people, the kender, were few and chaotic. His nation was divided into a myriad of smaller groups, few of which had a leader or any true opinion. Acorn was the only ambassador for his nation and he'd willingly relinquished his political party's weapons.

What could he do? His nation was small and had little weapons to begin with. Some of the other groups in his nation had refused and were hiding from the sad exuse of a law system which Jennistraza had. He would be of no real harm to humans, the Tall Beings had assured themselves. Acorn rethought giving in to the human armies but then he thought better of it. They will wipe out the arrogant Elves.

Kender were generally cheery and peaceful beings. They tried to ally elves but were killed mercilessly after "invading" their lands. Humans... humans were chaotic and open to peace occasionally. Acorn disliked dwarves and their stubborness and gruffness. Gnomes he had a soft spot for... but, he could do nothing about it. They were all enemies of the humans and so he, the High Lord of Jennistraza, was forced to destroy the alien scum...

Acorn sighed and gave the order to hand over the 5 kender rioters -riots... our people have turned to riots..., he thought sadly- to the humans. His "alliance" with the humans was not what he'd expected it to be. But, the world here was so much different from their homelands...

Things seemed to be spirialing out of control, but for the moment Githras' hands where tied, any further actions above the movement of Special Forces such as the Bladesingers, and Spelljammer fleets where beyond his direct authority, except for in a state of emergency. Unfortunatly this was not a state of emergency, although it was pressing.

Besides he had to give his plans time, still nothing prevented him from seeking the further authority if and when it was needed. Above all else Githras was cautious however, and so for now no formal decleration was forth coming from the Islands, until and unless he could back up his words he would not risk it.

'Summon a full Council for three days hence, send word to the Clans, and the Houses, as well as to the people, ensure they know what it is we must address. Ask the High Magi to prepare a full background on the people of Dontgothere if you would, as well as nations that could be classed as being Anti-Elf in whatever form the Elf may take. I want to understand more fully this state of mind, try and get to it's root cause.' The guard nodded as he raced to fulfil his lords instructions indeed his own blood boiled with need and desire, a need to act, to do something.

((Beaurcracy what can you do, actually I meant to have something along these lines in my first post but forgot, the escalation just gave me an excuse.))

OOC:
I think Im gonna turn in for the night, dont go too far ahead without me, thanks.
If you want you can go ahead and make new threads, as long as they dont involve me until I wake up :P

Darcy read the letter from the King quickly and wondered how he could think that there was an elf named Darcy. She sighed, and sent about the work of organizing enough ships to carry the refugees away. Then came the task of finding a place for them to stay... she fired off a quick letter to the King before she enveloped herself in getting the appropriations necessary for the task passed.

It is for the sake of those elves that we will take in that I hold my tongue. We will take as many elven refugees as we can. If you could please specify a place where we could set our transports down to evacuate the elves we will do so as soon as possible.

Darcy Galards,
Prime Minister of DNS

P.S. How can a human's letter show what your supposed arrogance of the elven people?

King Robert and noble companions.
Sir. We heil your mighty deed and thank God everyday for you. If only more people would take a stand like you have...
Yet..my heart is fulled with concern when I see the word 'explusion' used in the government statements.
Sir...I beg you...if at all possible..do not simply deport the subhuman filth...all that does is treat the wound but leaves the cause untreated!
Sir...destory the cancer that is the subhuman filth...lance it...cut out it from the body of humanity and throw it into the pires!
Arrest the filth and toegther we can take action...Iesus 'special treatment' centres could be arranged to take shipments shortly. Experts in this field are already ready to come and aid the transportation work.
We offer whatever aid you shall need...
In Christ
Bridgette Iesus. Ministry of social order. Iesus Christi.

We find it unfortunate that you have taken it unto yourselves to pass this foolish legislation and discriminated against what is usually a productive and prosperous segment of a given society. It has been suggested by some that this action may simply be a ruse to cover the problems of your own government and nation and divert public attention from harsh taxation and poor civil rights, but we could not possibly comment.

The Necrontyr Empire of course stands ready to provide safe harbour for the elven refugee population, as well as being ready to ensure the equitable treatment of such groups in Dontgonearthere, in the short time they have been allocated to leave. We also find the forty eight hour demand to be a risible demand, however, in forty hours from the issuing of this edict the First and Second Sol System Patrol fleets as well as our personal flagship, will be arriving to assist in moving refugees to the city of Isasrach, the current designated point for co-ordination of relief efforts.

We are sure that you will be obliging and understand that your own actions have brought this concentration of military force to your borders. We are also sure that you will show wisdom in your dealings with us throughout this time of crisis. It would be unfortunate if unwise action on your part in the coming days were to cause further loss of life. Loss of life in the coming days, in our accounting, could easily escalate into a tragedy that would scar your nation for many generations.

Prince Asirnoth, Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces of the Necrontyr Empire, Director of Operations in the Solar System

DNS:
Very well, you may pick up the elves at CLP (Civilian Launch Platform) 1, it shouldnt be to hard to find, its a bloody great space station above the capitol. Coordinates are included in this message.

SECRET IC:
Iesus Christi:
Do not worry, they shall be dealt with as all scum are.

Nonsecret IC:
The Ctan:
As per usual security cautions, the Earth Defence Fleet, consisting of two Piledriver plantbusters as well as a large assortment of other craft of varying destructive capability, will be there to observe this pickup and make sure that no incidents of regretable violence take place at this...transfer.
And of course you realize that any unauthorized 'removal of refugees' from our boarders will constitute an act of unwanted intrusion into our nation, and the intruders will be invited to spend some time with the information retrieval technicians and their friends.
We can assure them that this will not be an unpleasant time, possibly they will remember it for quite some time, weeks if theyre lucky.
However, ships may dock at Civilian Launch Platform 1, to pick up refugees.

---

SECRET IC:
Transmission to DGNT Colony States:
Full military preparedness, expect strikes from multiple inbound hostile fleets, DO NOT engage unless boarders are penetrated or you are fired upon.
Ground forces to full alert, bring up the militias, but do it quietly.

To those who are against this new law:

My people have agreed to this law unwillingly. We do not wish to engage in combat but wish to remain in peaceful relations. However, should the humans order us to do so, we will be forced to attack you.

Should you be attacked by kenderkin, consider it not an attack by Jennistraza or it's neighboring kender nations, but an assault by the humans. Our ferocity and skill in combat are not our own, but of the humans.

Should the humans ever be defeated, we will gladly switch alliegance to your power. We as kender have never been against the elves but against the humans, and we hold you in the highest regard possible. Unfortunately, the humans have us in such a vice grip that should we lend any aid to you currently, we'd end as a people in minutes.

Please do not disclose this information to any elf of low rank, for fear of capture and betrayal. This message alone is Treason enough to end my small nation. This is a request. I request that should you ever attack the humans, to liberate myself and my people.

High Lord Acorn Thornpicker,
Commander of the Fenris Party of Jennistraza

The High Lord read it and an impish grin crossed his face. "Send one off to the dwarves too. Maybe in their drunken heads THIS will actually seem like a genuine request for help..."

Asirnoth didn't bother to reply. He was however, amused at the threat to torture his forces. He was even tempted to send some just to laugh at whatever efforts were made.

In a Bunker in Allanea

The boy lifted his head from his hand, his eyes sad, his face, pale with desperation. “What the hell? Isn’t the Department of Foreign Relations responnsible for this?”

The Lieutenant smiled knowingly. “Yes, Mr. President, but I thought you’d like to tend to this personally. The people of DGNT are now engaged of persecution of their elven minority. They are officially scheduling them for deportation, but some reports tell us that they are planning to…” – he gulped, noting the President’s famous sketchbook has been left on the table, and he could see the drawings. And he knew the President knew he could, too.

Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky interrupted the Lieutenant’s train of thought: “I see. Typical wannabe Nazis, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Mr. President, indeed. What do you think we should do about it, President?” – he said, unable to remove his glance from the pencil drawing of a young elven girl, wearing a pair of glasses – unusual for an elf – and clutching a stack of books almost bigger than herself. She was beautiful. Too beautiful.

“Prepare the Lysander Spooner and Absolute Destruction battlegroups. Prepare the Miriel. And stand by to deliver my message.”

*********************************************************************

Official Radio/Television Announcement from the President of the United States

The United States of Allanea has always been renowned for its adherence for the principles of freedom and justice. We will not stand by and stand as Dontgonearthere deports - or even massacres its elves or any other minority group.

We will provide, to aid in the noble effort of evacuating the elves to safety, the resources of two battlegroups, Lysander Spooner and Absolute Destruction. Those battlegroups, numbering 12 manned vessels in total, and also the Miriel nös Feanor rescue vessel, are on the way as I speak to aid the noble evacuation effort.

We call on the world community to aid us in the noble evacuation effort. Remember, all it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to nothing.

May God bless Allanea.

*********************************************************************

Aboard the USS Miriel nös Feanor

Grand Admiral George Dukakis smiled. He liked those missions. He was the saviour of millions of people – simply by virtue of being the de-facto commander of one of the biggest and best rescue vessels in the Galaxy. He still remembered the liberation of Mercury, the laughing Khristian children, the faces of the adults as the effect of the Zikaron Substance seeped in slowly, restoring them their memories and their freedom.
Today’s job was going to be harder, though.

DNS:
Very well, you may pick up the elves at CLP (Civilian Launch Platform) 1, it shouldnt be to hard to find, its a bloody great space station above the capitol. Coordinates are included in this message.
A flotilla of transports reverts to real space a few hundred thousand clicks from the CLP-1. Captain Jedine Shires was pacing the bridge of the lead transport, the Mihalco. The presence of one of the carrier fleets in the outer system ready to jump in was doing nothing to quell the growing nervousness that he felt in his belly. But he was in charge, and he had to do his job, even if he thought it might be his last.

“Computer, open a channel to the space-station. Hail and transmit the following. This is Captain Jedine Shires of the Mihalco. I am in command of 65 Eliph-class Transports. We come under a mission of peace to transport as many elven refugees as possible. We have facilities for approximately sixteen thousand two hundred and fifty sentients and there is another fleet en route to take any other refugees. We await docking permission to take aboard the refugees.”

Official Announcement from the President of the United Republics of Tiburon

The United Republics of Tiburon stands amazed that such an act of opression could be carried out by the ruler of a nation to its people. We understand the wishes of the ruler of Dontgonearthere (DGNT), and although some speculation has been made as to the nature of this new set of laws, out of a courtesy that they have yet to show the other nations of the world or their own people, we refuse to make those speculations public. At this time, the United Republics stands by the nations of Giltheran, DNS, Jennistraza, the Ctan, and Allanea, who have already stood up against this act of barbarosity.

At this time, however, we still believe it is possible to endure safety for any persecuted sentient life-form while preserving the delicate peace between nations. We therefore offer complete amnesty and refugee status to any elf, dwarf, or otherwise sentient life-form fleeing to the United Republics from Dontgonearthere. In accordance with this new offer to those wishing to flee the iron fist, the Tiburonese Mobile Navy, Air Force, and Space Force, jointly request an area be open to Tiburonese entities wishing to spread liberty throughout the world.

-President Nova Starfighter
-Unanimous Declaration, Joint Session of Congress
---------------------------

OOC: I use Mobile Suits... heavily. Is this a problem for anyone?

(OOC) Sorry if I'm jumping the guns a bit by posting here, but well you did invite me on the regional boards ;)
The actual IC bit has a plan to use a WOMD in it. I won't actually do that without getting permission from RJ first though so don't worry.

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

News had reached the broadcasters of Klatch of what was going on in the far flung State of DGNT. On KTV, Dyelli Beybi's premier news channel, the story had recieved some minor attention, "And this just in... DGNT has passed anti-non-human laws."

The anchor paused, "The move has been publically condemned already by the Ctan, Allanea and Neo-Tiburon, while being acclaimed by the Government of Iesus Christi... as of yet there has been no public statement from the National Government, nor any Klatchian State Governments to the new laws. We will be bringing you these speeches, live, as they happen..."

With a click of the remote control, Commisaar Reilly switched the television screen off. He was seated at a long oblong table. IT could probably have seated twelve, but right now there were only two other Commisaars in the meeting room. Glass walls fronted onto the giant and well lit open plan office of Benjia House, "As it so happens, Ladies." the two other Commisaars were both female, "They'll be coming on with a message from Felix protesting the actions of Dontgonearthere, the Dwarves and Orcs up North were not amused and we can't afford to isolate them right now."

Both the other Commisaars nodded, "I fail to see though." one put in, "How this applies to Dyelli Beybi, it's not like we actually want to get involved in this rubbish."

"unmenschliche Geschöpfe weniger gültig als Menschen." Reilly replied as if that explained everything.

"We don't have any elves within our borders." the other Commisaar shot back, "Well technically we do but..."

"Quiet." Reilly held up his hand, "Don't mention these facts unless necessary. I'm not talking about within Dyelli Beybi. I'm talking about the Gonad."

The third Commisaar looked concerned, "That's part of Rogue Jiggady isn't it?"

Reilly nodded, "Yes, and they havn't precisely done a good job at rooting the buggers out have they?"

The second Commisaar took over, "Last I heard Valinon wanted to relocate them to another planet."

Reilly shook his head, "Isn't happening, now all of you remember Project Raza I assume?"

They both nodded, Reilly continued, "If you recall we now know the Elves in the East have Four main centres of opperation, one of which we know the exact location of. What our plan is to do, in conjunction with the Tercionem, while the eyes of the world areelsewhere, we will move to within the vicinty of the town and plant AM-1."

There was stunned silence, "You want to let off a weapon of mass destruction in Rogue Jiggady?" one Commisaar asked incredulously.

"Yep." Reilly nodded, "The Rogue Jiggadians don't live in that part, there will be no civilian casualties, and best of all, no elevated radiation levels. Noone will have any idea what we've done, they'll just think a meteor hit the area or something."

"I must admit." the Second Commisaar mused, "It does have a certain elegance to it. Heck, it might just work. Who will be the unlucky Commisaar going into the Gonad this time?"

Reilly gave the pair the most evil grin, "Oh no..." the second protested.

Reilly held out his left hand, he was holding what looked like two blades of grass, "Draw straws girls..."

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

An Official Memo from the Offices of the High Chancellor

Dyelli Beybi is highly alarmed by the anti-non-human actions of a fellow State within the Federation. Dyelli Beybi wishes to suggest strongly that the law be amended before other key States within the Federation are offended. Dyelli Beybi wishes to reitterate though, that while we disaprove of the actions of DGNT on this occasion, Dyelli Beybi in no way wishes to damage a history of good relations.

-Commisaar Felix Dzerzhinsky

Letter adressed to the commander of DGNT:

Dear sir, we of Jennistraza are upset with your recently released law, but we shall not dispute it. We will always bow in respect to your greater judgement. However, our people are restless with our captivity and wish to have weapons so we may aid you in your noble fight against alien races to your own. We, of the kender nations, have advanced little in our technology. The threat with which we are facing have severely advanced technology to our own. While we would be able to have a victory with our own hoopaks and swords, we request advanced weapons from your generous and honourable nation. In exchange, we offer you supplies of Tritonin and Naquadria.

-High Lord Thornpicker



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


To the commander of Tiburon,

We of Jennistraza acknowledge your offer of ferrying our people from hostile lands. However, we are ensared in human control and are unable to liberate ourselves. We have been able to survive by our relinquishing of all weapons.

We have no weapons and our people have just settled after a long and perilous journey on which many people were lost. We as a nation will refuse to move and wish to fight for our land. However we are a small people and are in a state of governmental disorder. We wish to request your aid in liberating our people. Should you accept this, we have generated a substantial supply of Naquadria, a rare and powerful element. We also have purified Tritonin which we may offer your people as long as you understand the risk of Tritonin. Should you discover the risk to be too high, we will accept this and continue our miserable existance near human lands.

- High Lord Thornpicker,
Commander of the Fenris Party of Jennistraza

A Spelljammer moves strangely it was felt best to approach the target from Orbit, disguised as a vessel directed to aid in the retrialvel of refugees, slipping slowly into Orbit onboard the Bladesingers looked at each other in anticpation, already the Mages gathered surronding the Seven and drawing a circle around them. Much Insertion would be far easier than extraction none of the Seven had the power to do what the Mages where about, and so Extraction would be arranged via other means, still if they where at all afriad it did not show.

With a nod the spells began, and first the Seven disappreared from sught, fading into invisibility, it would not of course last but for the Seven it would buy them the time needed to 'land'. As soon as the first spell was cast the mages began again, this time blessing all Seven with the power of flight, again it was only temporary, and again that was all that was needed, both of these spells where in the power of the former students to cast but by having the Mages do it, they saved their magics for when it was truely needed.

Last began the most powerful spell, one far beyond the Students abilities, as they where teleported into the Upper atmosphere of the planet, to the furtherest distance the mages could send them, as close to the nation of DGNT as they had dared scry.... All Seven emerged and began the descent to the planets surface, floating down much like parachuting spies, although with nothing to give them away they hoped... When they landed the first stage of the operation would begin, exploration and investigation, too many pieces of this puzzle did not add up, once they had investigated the situation how to proceed was within their discreationary powers.

((OOC note Giltheran uses magic to arrive at the same solution a more technologically advanced nation may achieve, I have no guns, exctra, my army still uses Sword and Bow, I hope people will remember that when reacting to my use of magic Darn it edit, I just realised this could be read as being, 'And they succed nahnahnah nah. Which is not what I intended... See OOC thread.))

"Greetings! We come from the nation of Jennistraza!" comes a voice from a small party of about 10 small, unarmed figures. "we come in peace and greeting! We would like to welcome you back to our nation and we may tell you information about the human opressors!" High Lord Acorn Thornpicker is the speaker.

DGNT Orbit:
Refugee ships, you are all cleared to dock. Bays 34-40 have been cleared for your use.
The huge station continued its rotation, parts of it were almost as old as Dontgonearthere, and had been rotating for quite some time, they were very good at it. Other parts were brand new, and shone expensivly in the unfiltered light of Sol.
As it turned out bays 34-40 were tiny, cramped, old, and very badly maintained. A number of atmosphere leaks had been stoppered with bubblegum and duct tape. Bay thritysix was home to an extremly old and grouchy Horribly Mutated Thing, which heaved its amorphorous bulk about in an uncertain manner, its two or three remaining good eyes glaring at the world through a haze of rage and catarchts.
(A Horribly Mutated Thing is the result of the last rounds of high-rad bombs dropped in the Big War. Its a sort of huge amoeba with a brain and a few other organs, its not too intelligent, but its damn hard to kill. I think its best just to avoid this one.)

OOC:
Shall this go well, or should I have marines in the bays (except for 36 :))? Or maybe the Elves "Choose not to turn up"?

Giltheran, magic is fine, just as long as you dont go around blowing up fleets with a single word and so forth.)

IC:
Somewhere in Psuedopolis:
(Psuedopolis is the furtherst northern city in mainland Dontgonearthere)
"Gentlemen, this is intolerable. The King is obviously off his rocker, not only is he using his secret police to terminate the elves, hes pissing off about nintey other nations. At this rate the Elves wont have to worry about persecution, because DGNT is going to be a bloody glass plate that glows at night!"
"We were better off with Mr 47, even if he WAS a tyrant, at least he didnt descriminate. Except for the mime thing. Poor bastards."
"Indeed. The point is, Robert is clearly a madman and should be...dealt with. Our main problem is getting the support we need to do this, after all, most of the country is still caught up in the novelty of having royalty for the first time in three hundred years! If we do this wrong the country will riot and well just have another inbred moron, maybe one even worse than this one!"
"Could we slip a clone or a 'bot in? If we had contr-"
"NO! People would get suspicious if the king had to plug into a wall socket every day, or had to take nuetrient suppliments that would kill a whole herd of cows at thirty yards. A republic is a bad idea, the concept of choosing leaders simply doesnt work here. Democracy is a maybe, there have been votes before. I think Mr 47 had one or two on a few issues..."
"Just how long did he live anyway?"
"Last I heard he was almost four hundred. Odd that, and he didnt look a day over fourty."
"Magic ring?"
"Nah, the nukes blew the thaumic field to hell and back, we had somebody try magic here once...it wasnt pretty."
"I wish I could live that lo-"
"Patrol! Looks like a raid! Everybody disperse! Get to your hiding spots and remember, being captured is not an option."
The meeting of anonamous, faceless and most of all, anti-royalist men vanished quickly, being caught by the City Guard was not a pleasant experience, as the men strapped to the outside of the cities dome would testify.

DGNT Orbit:
Refugee ships, you are all cleared to dock. Bays 34-40 have been cleared for your use.
The huge station continued its rotation, parts of it were almost as old as Dontgonearthere, and had been rotating for quite some time, they were very good at it. Other parts were brand new, and shone expensivly in the unfiltered light of Sol.
As it turned out bays 34-40 were tiny, cramped, old, and very badly maintained. A number of atmosphere leaks had been stoppered with bubblegum and duct tape. Bay thritysix was home to an extremly old and grouchy Horribly Mutated Thing, which heaved its amorphorous bulk about in an uncertain manner, its two or three remaining good eyes glaring at the world through a haze of rage and catarchts.
(A Horribly Mutated Thing is the result of the last rounds of high-rad bombs dropped in the Big War. Its a sort of huge amoeba with a brain and a few other organs, its not too intelligent, but its damn hard to kill. I think its best just to avoid this one.)

OOC:
Shall this go well, or should I have marines in the bays (except for 36 :))? Or maybe the Elves "Choose not to turn up"?


OOC: Just FYI the transports are lightly armed (4 medium lasers each[powered, but locked and safetied for now]) and only have maybe five security officers with stunsticks and sidearms each. Minimal sheilding, with a diamond/titanium composite hull. As for if it goes well or not... suprise me.

IC: "What the hell is that thing?" Jedine asked while he waited for either Elves or soldiers to come through the docking bay doors. Just his luck to get stuck in the docking bay with the stations... pet maybe?

"No idea sir. The other transports are all docked and waiting for refugees. Any other orders?"

"No, just to be ready for anything. Make sure the medtechs scan all of them to make sure they havn't infected any of the Elves with a bioweapon."

"Yes sir."

And now to wait and hope against hope this isn't a trap

The seven paused looking for the sound of the voice and then a small chuckle escaped their lips, 'Halflings well we experiance new wonders everyday. Another similar sight across the depths of the Universe, far from Toril.' The Woman stepped forward as the obvious leader of the group and bowed, 'Well met then people of Jennistraza, for now we are merely here to observe for the rest of the Tel-Quesier and determine the truth of these lands.' She was cautious something about the speaker seemed wrong to her with a subtle glance at her companions she took a gamble and spoke in the language of the Quessir, assuming that the 'Halflings' would be unable to understand.
Remain watchful, these Ten feel wrong somehow.'
Returniing her gaze to the High Lord she smiled broadly attempting to hide her concern behind the smile, 'Perhaps we could talk more however, although of course we have a mission to perform, Janis and myself could accompny you to a place better suited for conversation?' Nodding to one of her companions as she spoke he stepped forward giving a short bow.

The other Five looked on as if not understanding what was being said, although they actually spoke many different languages and dialects, Giltheran being a land that took great pride in being Multi-Lingual after all, it would explain why she spoke in Quessier to them.

When we leave follow us, and keep an eye on the Halflings. they nodded at her orders and smiled.

Giltheran, City of Souls, The Palace of Souls, Council Chamber

Almost every House and Clan had arranged a repersentative it was one of the largest gatherings of the Council in living memory. Slowly Githras stood to address the assembled gathering, not just of the MAtriarch's Patriarch's and Chieftens of the Elvish nation, but the common populace, for Giltheran allowed all to be heard and listen to it government. All voices would be heard and heeded before the familes made their choices.

'My friends, my people, we are gathered here this day to address a problem, officially the issue before us is that of the Quendi, and other Elkvish races in the lands of DGNT, however this is not the end of the problem. Each of the Council members has been provided I hope with a report compiled by the High Magic from the Towers?'

The many officials gathered nodded solemnly, 'Inside that document you have seen I hope the sorry state of affairs upon this world, from the Fanatics of Iesus Christi, to the lands of something called Melkor. From the misguided to the insane, their is strong anti-Elf, Anti-Meta-human for want of a term, undercurrent. I sugest to you all therefore that what we must discuss here today is not just a response to the DGNT situation but to this Ideological evil as a wholeQ'

Cheers erupted from the assembled Elves to Githras' words still it was clear to all that they where in for a long night, and a long few days.

"I, High Lord Acorn Thornpicker, commander of the Fenris party of the Kingdom of Jennistraza," -he paused for effect- "will gladly lead you and your friend to our nation!" he and the kender gleefully bowed to them and all but the High Lord and 2 kender skipped ahead to the town. They'd been sworn to secrecy but just to make sure, they'd been drugged. As soon as they got to town they'd be fast asleep. The kender walked in complete and solemn silence and led the 2 (assuming you are still following them...) into a thick forest. After 100 feet of trees, the forest broke into a wide desert like expanse filled with stone or wooden buildings and the odd tree or pond. In the dead centre of town was the kender Headquarters. The streets were filled with kender chatting and walking cheerily. Several cats were seen meowing and walking but no other animals. "Shall we proceed to business or would you like to sample excellent kender cooking?" one of the 2 accompanying kender asked.

((OOC Quick note, Drugs to make my people sleep will fail, they can't physically sleep, they can enter into a state of deep mediatation but it is completly different from sleep. (The Game my people are drawn from gives them a 100% immunity to sleep, sleep spells and/or drugs simply put they don't sleep. The side effect is the deep mediatation when entered into is far harder to be roused from before the Four hours it lasts is up))

Nodding their agreement the two began to follow the Kender, in an almost accidental manner both the Elves began to sing lightly under their breath, the sound was heaven sent, simply put the two's voices melded together into an enchanting melody, singing had of course a practical side effect here, for it was possible for the pair to cast their spells in this manner, should the need to surprise the Kender arise. It would perhaps come as no suprise to the Kender to later learn that the two where titled Bladesinger's.

Behind them out of sight the other Five Followed, Melanie, had been tracker a 'Ranger' before becoming a Blade singer, she could read the trail of the others as clear as if it where printed on a map. It did not hurt that occasionally they would come across marks left by the pair, nothing too fancy, a twig stepped on a little too heavily, a footprint in mud, etc. Too the trained eyes of Melanie they where obvious.

To the commander of Tiburon,

We of Jennistraza acknowledge your offer of ferrying our people from hostile lands. However, we are ensared in human control and are unable to liberate ourselves. We have been able to survive by our relinquishing of all weapons.

We have no weapons and our people have just settled after a long and perilous journey on which many people were lost. We as a nation will refuse to move and wish to fight for our land. However we are a small people and are in a state of governmental disorder. We wish to request your aid in liberating our people. Should you accept this, we have generated a substantial supply of Naquadria, a rare and powerful element. We also have purified Tritonin which we may offer your people as long as you understand the risk of Tritonin. Should you discover the risk to be too high, we will accept this and continue our miserable existance near human lands.

- High Lord Thornpicker,
Commander of the Fenris Party of Jennistraza

High Lord Thornpicker,

While your wishes to retain your land are understandable, it is certainly more important to secure your nation and its population now, and negotiate for land later. We ask you to please reconsider and resettle for the moment. While under temporary resettlement, we promise to protect your people and consider them as an equal nation among the countries of the world. However, at this time, we strongly urge the Fenris Party of Jennistraza to reconsider. Tiburonese Space Force ships will be arriving shortly in approved DGNT docks.

-President Nova Starfighter
-Secretary of State Duo Maxwell
-Vice Admiral Jason Handel, Chief of Relations, Department of Defense External Coordination Sector
--------------------
To: His Royal Highness, King Robert CCXIV of Dontgonearthere
From: Secretary of State, Duo Maxwell of Tiburon

There has not yet been word on whether Tiburonese Space Force and Amnesty International Tiburon spaceships have been cleared to dock to evacuate elves from your nation. Does DGNT accept this?

Patricia Davies had drawn the long straw. What she was doing now, she figured was quite a bit better than trying to infiltrate the Gonad peninsula - Hell on earth and full of Satan worshiping, Dyellian hating elves to boot.

What she was in fact doing was sitting in a rather plush terminal at Cyro International airport. She'd managed to wheedle her way into the first class with her Cheka uniform, which was quite nice - it had a free bar.

The Cheka uniform was fairly similar to the dress uniform of the Dyelli Beybian army. It was field grey, with a military style cap, grey shirt with twin breast pockets and a high black collar. Women wore a skirt in a similar grey that reached down to mid-calf. The main difference was that the Cheka had all webbing and rank insignia in blue while the army did their's in white and silver. All in all it looked vaguely like something out of World War II era Germany... minus the swaztikas of course.

Davies was making good use of the bar, idly she wondered whether she could have got in here without her uniform. They said back at base, rather cynically, that the best Cheka agents were young, female, attractive and intelligent. Davies was all four. It was why they'd recruited her. In many respects she was a fairly typical Dyellian, she was by no means tall, although slenderly built, with dark hair and similarly dark eyes. Her facial features were fine, giving her a somewhat delecate appearance. Some might say elven. If they did they'd probably survive around half a second, which was the time it took for her to draw her holstered side-arm and put a bullet in their skull. Dyellians didn't like elves.

Oddly the hatred of elves was a hatred confined to only Dyellians, one of the four main racial groups in the population. Davies was a Dyellian. It was a pathological hatred, and it was one the Elves in the Gonad shared towards the Dyellians (not that they liked any outsiders much). A few people knew why the hatred existed, Davies was among them. She had been assigned to the top secret 'Project Raza' which recently had ground to a halt. Now though she was being sent to DGNT in the hope of kickstarting the old project, but as of yet there had been no response from the DGNT Government... not that she minded. The bar was free, "Thank you Reilley." she muttered under her breath, giving the barman a warm smile, "Another Gin and Tonic, more Gin this time... and less tonic!"

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

Meanwhile, back at Benjia House, the Headquarters of the Cheka, Reilly was playing 'solitaire' on his computer, it wasn't the best game, but he wasn't allowed to install games on the mainframe. Felix had not been impressed when he'd found 'Doom' clogging up the system.

The clock on Reilly's desk beeped indicating the hour, he smiled, "Times up Trish, hope you liked the bar."

Like most Klatchians, Patricia Davies liked her alcohol, and it was always good to give Field Officers some kind of pleasant distraction before sending them out. It helped to keep morale high and the Cheka a force to be reckoned with.

Minimising his game, Reilly clicked the 'Send' button on his Memo distribution program. As a Chief Superintendent, Reilly had the rare honour of being able to Send messages via Government lines to any Klatchian State. This message was aimed for DGNT....

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

To: The Head of State of the Empire of Dontgonearthere
From: Dyelli Beybi, Ministry of Defence
Subject: Unwanted Citizens
Dyelli Beybi is willing to accept unwanted non-human citizens and indeed is willing to pay to recieve them. Unlike many other Nations we are more than happy to accept Dwarves and Gnomes as well as Elves in our repatriation scheme. We are willing and able to take 10,000 displaced persons in preferably an even mix.
In order to facilitate this and possible further mutually beneficial exchanges with Dyelli Beybi, we wish to send Commisaar Patricia Davies, ranked Chief Inspector to act as a temporary Ambassador within the Empire.
Dyelli Beybi awaits your reply,
Commisaar Sydney Reilly,
Secretary to the Minister of Defence.

In Dontgoneart'he Castle:
King Robert the CCXIV grinned happily at the meal arrayed before him. He was one of the few peopel in Dontgonearthere to have seen fruit in his life. Even though is was perfectly possible for the people to grow them, they often simply said 'Vitamins? Me mum said those things'll kill ya.", and went back to moping, which seemed to be the main industry in the nation, aside from the uranium mines, which apparently showed no sign of running out, despite being four miles deep and spreading out under most of the nation and, in a few cases, under others.
He bit into an apple, and paused.
Aside from the unusual number of toes, being descended from a royal line had givin Robert good night vision and hearing.
"Another one? This is the third time in four days. You people are so very boring."
...
...
...
Oh dear, this one might actually be GOOD, best not to take risks.
Robert felt under the table for the small button he had installed himself.
beep
There was a sad, mechanical noise, ten high powered laser cannons failed to materialize from the walls and unleash a deadly wall of energy on the attacker.
At this point the assassin fired a nasty invention from his sleeve, consisting mostly of a semi-plastic spring which wouldnt set off a metal detector, and a bolt with a small glass vial in it.
Robert fell over, blinking through a rapidly gathering fog. He stumbled over to the wall and attempted to support himself on his own bust, this turned out to be a bad move, and soon he fell over into a temporary uncounciosness, the bust fell over and crashed into his head and neck, hastining the poisons work quite a bit.

---

24-Hours later
Transmission to all involved parties:
We regret to inform you that the DGNT royal line is currently undergoing a period of succession, as such negotiations will be delayed.
We thank you for your patience.

---
Civilian Launch Platform 1:
The news of the kings death had not gone unnoticed, the marines who were supposed to be raiding the Elf-lover ships at present were somewhat shocked, they had been chosen more for loyalty than intelligence and as such were considering their options.
It was decided that there was only one real option.
Hoping to take as many with them as possible a few went to herd elves into the docking bays and onto the ships.
The rest pooled their explosives and headed to the stations main power core.

The huge antimatter pile was normally a brilliant sight, the glowing, pulsating mass of it would dazzle new crew members for quite some time.
The marines had piled their assorted grenades, rockets and bombs beside the main lock to the antimatter chamber, which contained nearly half a ton of antimatter. The sergeant of the first squad was now heaving a PAAR 3 'bunker buster' rocket onto his shoulder, and fired it into the collection of explosives.
The first thing that happened was that the sergeant reconsidered his actions, and his last miliseconds were spent wishing he hadnt done this.
The next thing was that the rocket missed the explosives compleatly, and hit the side of the matter storage tanks, freeing the ultra-dense slush housed inside it.
The next thing that happened was highly agressive expansion by a very caustic substance which weighed about one ton for every cubic inch of stuff.
The explosion didnt break the antimatter storage, but it did damage the generator, and even now the containment field was faltering, occasionaly a 'puff' of antimatter would leak out, and explode brilliantly.

OOC:
Anybody on the station, you have (at most) ten minutes to get off before a quite large antimatter bomb explodes, you dont want to be around. But this does give you an oppurtunity to award some charecters medals and reinact certain scenes from Vietnam.

They came within the day, and they did not come quietly. The necron fleet consisted of the vast battleship Mechanisms of the Gods, the flagship of the Warmaster, one of six gigantic vessels, many miles from prow to stern and from port to starboard, shaped like the crescent moon, with a superstructure of pyramids that glowed with eldritch runes and arcane power. The Mechanisms was a canny vessel, that had seen dozens of battles since its recent re-awakening, and thousands upon thousands long millennia before that, it was fair to say that the Mechanisms was an ‘old school’ harvest ship.

The other ships consisted of another harvest ship like the Mechanisms and four more others, not harvest ships, marginally smaller, but still great battleships with lengths and breadths measured in leagues. Others there were, cruisers by the dozen, and escorts that seemed to be in greater numbers than the starts themselves. In reality, few came, a mere ninety vessels all told, but they seemed more simply because of the dread that accompanied their coming in the minds of those who passed near to the great flagship, the arcane devices in its sepulchre active, granting an aura that could be felt thousands of miles around, an aura of menace that seemed to hang in the air, promising death, doom and woe to their enemies.

At last, as they approached the ironically named Dontgonearthere, they sent a message, We have come for the elves...

<Line to Ctan ships entering DGNT space>

You'll have to get in line. DNS and I came first. :p
------------

Official Statement from the United Republics of Tiburon on the passing of King Robert CCXIV and the placement of an antimatter bomb on the designated evacuation area

Holy crap.

OOC:
Youll note that the line is about to explode O_O.
I should think that it would be obvious that the station is about to go, its orbit is prolly off, and its shaking every time theres an explosion.
And its giving off lots of interesting radiation.

Civilian Launch Platform 1:
The news of the kings death had not gone unnoticed, the marines who were supposed to be raiding the Elf-lover ships at present were somewhat shocked, they had been chosen more for loyalty than intelligence and as such were considering their options.
It was decided that there was only one real option.
Hoping to take as many with them as possible a few went to herd elves into the docking bays and onto the ships.
The rest pooled their explosives and headed to the stations main power core.

The huge antimatter pile was normally a brilliant sight, the glowing, pulsating mass of it would dazzle new crew members for quite some time.
The marines had piled their assorted grenades, rockets and bombs beside the main lock to the antimatter chamber, which contained nearly half a ton of antimatter. The sergeant of the first squad was now heaving a PAAR 3 'bunker buster' rocket onto his shoulder, and fired it into the collection of explosives.
The first thing that happened was that the sergeant reconsidered his actions, and his last miliseconds were spent wishing he hadnt done this.
The next thing was that the rocket missed the explosives compleatly, and hit the side of the matter storage tanks, freeing the ultra-dense slush housed inside it.
The next thing that happened was highly agressive expansion by a very caustic substance which weighed about one ton for every cubic inch of stuff.
The explosion didnt break the antimatter storage, but it did damage the generator, and even now the containment field was faltering, occasionaly a 'puff' of antimatter would leak out, and explode brilliantly.

OOC:
Anybody on the station, you have (at most) ten minutes to get off before a quite large antimatter bomb explodes, you dont want to be around. But this does give you an oppurtunity to award some charecters medals and reinact certain scenes from Vietnam.

"Captain! Sensors are showing an anti-matter leak. Looks like the containment field's breaking down or something. We've got to get out of here ASAP."

"Damn, get the Elves abord as quickly as possible. We leave in 3 minutes or after everyone that wants to get onboard is onboard. Call in the Itala and tell them of the situation. We'll probably need to blow out the doors on our way out." Jedine had been expecting... something, though it wasn't exactly like this.

As soon as the last elf was scrambling onboard they could see, the ships rotated their lasers and began to cut their way out through the doors of the spacedock. 7 minutes had passed, and Jedine was getting antsy. The second there was a hole large enough he ordered all of his ships to punch through the weakened spacedock doors. At 8 minutes and 23 seconds the last ship left and pushed it's engines into the red to accelerate away from the station. A quick headcount showed over 10k elves saved, but there were probably more left on the station.

Seconds later the Itala fleet reverted to realspace a safe distance from the station.

OOC:
Anybody else want to try to save some Elves? Timescale is not an issue, your post can be acting while DNS is working as well. It might not make sense, but hey, its a 'heroic savetheday thingy'.
The station is going up on the hour, (1 oclock, pacific time) so hurry up.

OOC: Can we just assume it already happened with my nation, then? Please?

OOC:
We could, but there might be people who want to nab some more Elves.

In other news, once the military action starts, this thread will become the political thread and Ill make a new one for war.

OOC: Remember, the EMP blast from an antimatter explosion like that is going to screw up anything below it that uses electricity.

OOC:
Most of the cities are pretty well shielded, and (of course) the big military ground installations all have built in faraday (sp?) cages, which will prevent most of the damge.
Its expensive in copper, but youll thank yourself later ^_^
It is a good excuse to put the monorails out of condition though.

OOC:
Sorry, apparently there was a server hiccup or something...was anybody else unable to access the forums?
Forum ate my edit.
Basicaly the station blew, EMP happened, a few DGNT ships were disabled/damaged, and the like.

The necron ships observed the increasing breakdown of the station with genuine alarm. Due to the chaotic radiation, picking out life signs on the station was almost impossible. Inside the sepulcure of the Mechanisms, Asirnoth triggered a sensor, a hologram of the station appeared, it looked almost lifelike, and to Asirnoth, who could see in many wavelengths, it showed him what was going on, the telltale emissions of antimatter. Another display projected a twenty gigaton explosion once the containment failed.

The closest ships were already launching vehicles of assorted size, and origin, mostly these vehicles were... commendeered... from various groups engaged in illicit activites on C'tan land, toward the station, some necrontyr designed dropships and assault shuttles, black dagger shaped ships, were mixed in with the diverse bunch of other ships.

But it was, in the end, all for naught. A few of the weaker launched ships were destroyed outright, and others were damanged. All told, aside from an intriguing gambit by the Arnstoan Rhien involving its displacers (which had succeeded in obtaining half an elf - who was likely to be rather pissed at missing his legs, in the short term at least) the effort came too late to achieve anything.

OOC: Well i don't have shielding. But then again, im in a medeival time period. An EMP will just make some of my kender giggle from the tingling.

IC: High Lord Thornpicker led the other 2 kender and their 2 guests to the HQ. The HQ was the size of a house. Inside was a dark room with a single candle(nearly burnt out) and a round table(wooden, has 7 legs out of originl 10, with 9 chairs (made of stone. several have large holes and one is missing 2 legs).

"Please be seated! This is our military Headquarters! In the back room there" -he indicated a small broom closet- "lies our armory. Oh, forgive me! This is Commander Kronin of the Talshiraco party and this is Cadaver of the Plaguebearer house. Our nation is very divided as of now. The Fenris party is, no disrespectintended to Kronin, the largest diplomatic party. Second is the Talshiraco and the Plaguebearer's house is a large governing family of most of northern Jennistraza!"

The 3 kender sat apart from eachother all with large grins. An old kender female stepped in and gave each of the kender and the guests a glass of an odd purple fluid. A Green plant floated in the centre. The 3 kender drank their's in one large gulp. "this is a kender delicacy- swamp juice, we call it. Don't worry it is the nectar of a native flower- the Pussyweed. It's nectar tastes most splendid and is very hard to extract. So enjoy it while you're here." the wench refills his and the other kender's glasses before leaving.

"Now, we would like to discuss an alliance. Would your people be willing to aid us in our struggle for freedom?"

Jedine and his flotilla of transports soon slipped into n-space, and were gone. His ships wern't built to deal with EMP blasts like that, and had escaped before falling prey to them.

Meanwhile Captain Ungar Grey was quickly glancing over an after-action report on the EMP blast. All ships were nominal, the countermeasures had worked perfectly... except for on the Valiant, a Senek-class gunboat, but the AI on board had powered down all systems in time to avoid any major damage apart from some discoloration of it's new paintjob.

"Computer, check communications status with the planet."

<<Interference is still too high for data transmission, I estimate that the radiation from the explosion will dissapate enough for normal communications in 15 minutes.>>

Ungar sighed and looked back at the report. He ticked off a request for leave time after the current crisis and waited.

Down on the planet a number of royal successions had taken place, differnt parts of DGNT were now under the rule of various Caliphs, Kings, Emperors and Warlords, and most of them were fighting in each other.
A few groups of nomands had started to attack everybody, including themselves, and a ton of religious zealots and terrorists had sprung up.
The Republican (So called because they couldnt think of a better name) were a relativly minor force, holding only Psuedopolis. Of course, they also had the only transmitter capable of reaching space.

Transmission from DGNT:
Hello? Hello? Anybody up there?
Weve got word that CLP one has exploded, are there any survivors? Hello?, as being repeated on various channels in the hopes of picking something up.

In G'oaway no less than six differnt kings were fighting over Dontgoneart'he castle, which was under control of the Robert royalists. The best those in the castle could do was take potshots at the various forces fighting for the righ to attack the castle. Two or three had managed to set up heavy weapons and start to launch assorted missiles and energy weapons at the castle.
One man had led a charge up to the castle, but the rest of his men had been killed on the way up, so all he could do was stand by the gates and look emberassed.
Smoke was rising from the city, escaping through holes in the main dome, or pooling i near the top, somebody had found a hovercopter and was randomly strafing parts of the city, blasting an occasional building with rockets.
Other cities had similar situations, having been carved up by petty rulers.

Ina small run down building a lone young kender slept near a radio, a gift from humans to ensure communication between the two nations. Messages of disaster and riots woke the kender up, who had never heard anything come out of the Radio before. Fearful, he grabbed a rock and with a quick move of his arms destroyed the only hope of help from the people of Jennistraza.

OOC:
We could, but there might be people who want to nab some more Elves.

In other news, once the military action starts, this thread will become the political thread and Ill make a new one for war.

OOC: Well, my ships don't have infinite storage capacity... I'd say 20% each from DNS, Ctan, and myself...

IC: The Tiburonese spaceship Yakariga braced itself for the blast of the EMP wave, as did the others. The ships gathered in a formation so that some ships covered the others, and the ships closest to the bomb raised their P-PNQ (Proton/Positron Negative Quark) Shields. Now, it was only a matter to wait until all systems would be completely restored.

In a bunker of Allanea

The boy paced back and forth through the bunker furiously. “What the hell do you mean we are late? What the freaking hell happened?”

“They blew it up, Sir!” – replied the Lieutenant. He cringed mentally, imagining the uncontrollable rage of the man he loved so much – and yet feared so much. – “They blew up the CLP!”

Surprisingly, Alexander Kazansky remained calm.

“Oh well. It had to be expected. Dirty neo-Nazi thugs. Tell the ship crews to hurry. We must get the there in time to save the few the few that yet are surviving – or at least massacre the thugs. Dontgonearthere indeed…”

Somewhere in orbit above DGNT, Aboard the USS Miriel Nos Feanor

“Holy mother of God…” - breathed out Grand-Admiral Dukakis as he watched a large brilliant flash appear in space where CLP-One used to be. “They actually did it.”

Then he heard his adjutant scream.

“Admiral! Admiral! Look! The Eviscerator!”

He swore as he turned his head at one of the secondary screens. “Sh**. How did that happen?”

Apparently, some high-velocity shard of the massive explosion has managed to penetrate the shields of the Kryptonite-class cruiser. In theory, that was not supposed to happen.

In practice, the twin hulls of the ship were now breaking off each other, In the middle, a large fiery flower was blossoming, as if in some terrible slow motion – or maybe it was just the way Dukakis’ mind slowed down, unable to accept the sheer horror of the event. Then the speed came back on. One of the hull parts was thrown into space by the sheer force of the incredible blast, while the other plummeted towards Earth, breaking apart as it went.

George Dukakis wouldn’t be Grand-Admiral if he didn’t know how to handle these situations. He was the first to recover from the gruesome sight.

“All men to battlestations! All ready! Be prepared to fire at my command!”

And the gigantic rescue vessel came alive with the sound of hundreds of feet. The humming of powerful reactors was heard as the sections of the ship moved to transform it into a, well, big cannon. A very big one.

Aboard the USS Mutilator

“Captain, we have located the position of the Dontgoneartherian fleet!”
“Good, jolly good. Tell the Admiral.”

*******************************************************************

Emergency Transmission

Dontgoneartherian fleet, this is Grand-Admiral George Dukakis of the Allanean Stellar Navy, commander of the USS Miriel nos Feanor, officer in charge of operation Wings of Eagles II. I request the position of any surviving elves.

Do not try to pull any crap on us, we are very well-armed, and very annoyed. If you do, you get introduced to a bit of history. Yurkan history.

Transmission from DGNT:
Hello? Hello? Anybody up there?
Weve got word that CLP one has exploded, are there any survivors? Hello?, as being repeated on various channels in the hopes of picking something up.

<<Sir? Transmission from the surface.>>

"Patch it through," Ungar rose in his chair, finally something to call his attention from idle thoughts and daydreams.

<"Hello? *static* Anybody up there?
Weve *static* that CLP one *static* loded, are there *static* survivors? Hello? *static* ">

"Try to get rid of the static, but the message seems straightforward enough. Transmit back, as strong as you can to break through the radiation. Send following. This is Captain Ungar Grey of the Itala. I regret to inform you that there are no survivors from the station except for the Elven refugees we rescued, there was an antimatter leak and the entire thing went boom. What is the situation down there anyway? End Transmission." Ungar sat back in his seat, waiting.

The pair smiled somewhat as they looked at the strange drink and nodded, for now they pretended to gently sip at the drink before looking at the High Lord and shoook their heads sadly. 'Thats highly forward my Lord and truely beyond our power to say. My King gave us explicit instructions for this mission but no where was there instructions on the potential for such a Alliance. As for my companions and I, after a full and frank appraisal of the situation on the ground here we are to aid in any manner possible with the extraction of people under risk from this new policy. To ensure the continued safty of elves and other races during this difficult time. However my King, cannot spare the resources to help your people gain an independence within this land.' Her voice lowered and carried no sign of deciet. 'I am truely sorry for that but you must understand our situation, Giltheran is a small Island Chain, off our Coast lies the lands of Ermor a land of the walking dead, the VAST majourity of our forces must deal with that threat. To lead a rebellion here, would mean a unsustainable drain upon our resources placing not just our freedom at risk but our lives.'

She paused a moment to consider her words carefully, 'However if it truely is freedom you desire, then we can arrange for you to flee these lands and settle elsewhere, but truely nothing else as the situation currently stands can I do.'

The High Lord nodded quietly. "We understand perfectly. Well, rather than us demanding of you, would it be possible for a few of our troops to aid you in any attacks you make? We kender are very fierce warriors if stirred to fight. "

Kronin then looked at the strangers. "Or, if you wish, sir, we may send bodyguards to protect you and your men should you choose to gather recon on the humans! we can't let you die on us..." he gulped down his drink and jabbed Cadaver in the leg, a subtle motion that was anything but subtle.
"Ow!" the boy said. "what was that for? oh!" his face reddened. the High Lord grinned at the representative. They had over 1 million men and they sent this little whelp?

"Well..." Cadaver began,"we have high amounts of Naquadria, a rare and powerful element, and we would like to offer you an amount as a peace greeting. Perhaps..." The high Lord glared at him. they had one chance and this bargain may settle on one number. "25 pounds?" this number came out weakly. 25 pounds was a years supply harvested.

-Allanea
The DGNT ships didnt respond, most of them were still down. The few that had managed to block out the EMP wave were occupied with crew-infighting by royalists, democrats, and all other sort of people supporting various archies.
Two or three had guns going, but they werent aiming very well, they tended to just point and fire, an occasional potshot would fly off towards a forign ship, but most of the shots were aimed at other DGNT fleet ships.
Allanenian ships, this is DNS Judic-bzzzzzttttt Currently busy, any support would be welcome, we are with the btbbzztttt chists, could use some assistance fighting off the bbbzzzzttttt dogs, thanks.

-DNS:
"Gone!?! Damn. No survivors...were at Psuedopolis, the big city on the northern coastline, you might be able to see it from space. Were basicaly the only Republican stronghold left, and we could use any assistance you could provide, just watch out for the Monarchists, most of them are still on a sort of quasi-religious elf-hunt. So try not to look like you have pointy ears."

---

CURRENT STATE STATUS:
(Who controls what)
Al-Khali:
Islamic hardliners, nomads

D'pressin:
Tsarist monarchist reformers

G'oaway:
In dispute

Takrat:
Unknown, contact lost. Possible nuclear detonations.

Strategic Isles:
Nativist islanders, tribal govornment reestablished.

OOC:
Im thinking either Mr 47 comes back, or maybe I just go through lots of differnt govornments over a long period. Meh.

Just to let you all know, this is now officialy the 'Space' thread, conflicts on the ground should be taken to the specific thread.

Patricia Davies had greeted the news with glee, "So I won't be needing to go into DGNT afterall?"

Reilly frowned at her, "I'm sorry.... what on earth gave you that impression?"

She blinked at him, smiling in a slightly confused way, "Well there's a civil war on isn't there?"

Reilly nodded, "Yep. Make sure you pack some ammunition. We still want specimens for Raza, and you're going to get them for us off these Royalists."

She gave the senior Commisaar a look that could only be described as funny, "And what makes you think they won't just shoot me for fun?"

"Huge amounts of Government money." He passed her a briefcase. The pair were sitting in a private Airport meeting room. The door in and out was guarded by a tough looking pair of AOS Officers, Reilly glanced towards them, "Which reminds me, we're sending in an AOS Officer with you, basically to make sure you survive long enough to make the transaction... oh yes and when you're done, find out who's winning and let them know Dyelli Beybi thinks their leader is hot stuff etc etc, offer them some cash or something... use your imagination, just make them like us."

"Thank you for your concern." she replied sarcastically, "How am I getting in by the way?"

"Flying boat." Reilly replied.

"Not one of those experimental torpedo bombers?" Davies asked, sounding a little alarmed, she'd been hoping to get a nice, comfortable Government jet.

Reilly nodded, but she already knew the answer.

(OOC) The Dyellians are gambling they can slip a small flying boat in past radar if they skim it. If they don't... well they have parachutes and an inflatable boat.

A few minutes later Davies found herself in the weapons officer's seat of a Dyelli Beybian torpedo bomber, at least they had been able to fit suitcases in here. Admitedly they were stored in the bomb bay. There seemed to be an aweful lot of buttons on flashing dials inside, "Ahh." she spoke down the intercom, "What was your name again?"

She was seated only a foot or two in front of the man, but the plane's propellar was making one hell of a racket, "Smythe." the AOS officer , "Do you have a problem Commisaar?"

"Yeah..." Davies did have a problem, "I wasn't aware you AOS guys got trained to fly planes."

"We don't" Smythe replied cheerfully.

"Oh.... but you have flown one of these before."

"Nope." Smythe replied in the same annoyingly cheerful voice, "But I know the theory behind it, I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Let me down now!" Davies felt a sudden wave of panic grip her, she was being flown secretly into a probably hostile country by a pilot who'd never set eyes on the controls of his plane before, come to think of it, had he set eyes on any controls?

"I'm afraid that's impossible Commisaar... you see, we're already 30 feet off the ground."

Davies closed her eyes, taking deep breaths, somehow she couldn't shake off the idea she was about to crash.

The next destination, was the East Coast of Dontgonearthere. Unknown to Davies, the plane only had enough fuel to get her one way...

(OOC: I'll let DGNT decide where exactly they end up on the coast, and exactly what they encounter when they get there :P They do have some pretty good navigational equipment, but they don't know exactly where they're supposed to go. They're mostly just pointing the plane towards the coast, maybe a day or two's walk away from a major city.)

OOC: Well, my ships don't have infinite storage capacity... I'd say 20% each from DNS, Ctan, and myself...


OOC: Mine Do >.> <.<

Effectively.

-----

The Necrontyr ships remained where they were, and aboard the Mechanisms, the Warmaster was forced to consult Duat on how best to proceed from here.

-DNS:
"Gone!?! Damn. No survivors...were at Psuedopolis, the big city on the northern coastline, you might be able to see it from space. Were basicaly the only Republican stronghold left, and we could use any assistance you could provide, just watch out for the Monarchists, most of them are still on a sort of quasi-religious elf-hunt. So try not to look like you have pointy ears."


Ungar pondered his ability to render aid. He couldn't shift the balance of power or interfere in the politics of the situation, but he could however help any elves that were being persecuted. "Computer, send message. I am not allowed to help any one side in this civil war. However if you could give me any coordinates of areas where these Monarchists are attacking innocent elves I can and will evacuate the elves. If any forces try to stop us or open fire we will fight back."

Aboard the USS Miriel nos Feanor

Outside the ship, there was no silence. Instead, there was only the howling of the powerful upper-layer winds around the enormous hull. The two-mile-long monstrosity was too long not to be noticed from the ground, but it was – probably – flying too high to be hit by any AA they might have.

Probably was the key point, though. If Allanea had ground-to-orbit AA, why not anybody else? But they had to take the risk. Down below, people were waiting for them. People who were in danger. The Miriel was a rescue vessel. The crew had to do their job. It was as simple as that.

The bridge of the Miriel nos Feanor was, however, nearly totally silent. The Senior Pilot peered solemnly into the screen while moving the joystick-like device he used to control the ship slightly. Behind smaller screens, engineers typed ferociously, issuing commands to crewmembers and onboard macihnery alike. And in the middle of the bridge chamber, seated in the huge leather-covered commander’s chair, sat Grand Admiral George Dukakis, reciting from memory:

HALF a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

The engineers listened to him just as they punched dozens of keys into their command consoles. His words were like an orchestra conductor’s baton, inserting rhythm and sense into the motions of dozens of fingers and hands, the work of dozens of minds.

From the ship, flocks of black, vulture-like Ann Coulter Mark VII gravfighters detached, protecting it from attackers as it hung, motionless in the roaring upper-athmospheric storm. In the meanwhile, the ship sent out a simple message.

Elven friends! This is the crew of the rescue vessel USS Miriel nos Feanor. We implore anybody who knows of the location of the surviving elves to notify us of it so we can both rid them of the oppression that threatens them – and those who hate them so much, of their presence. We warn those who menace them: harm the elves, and the wrath of the United States Stellar Navy shall fall upon you.

Dyelli Beybi:
SemiOOC:
The plane lands about seventy miles from G'oaway, where most of the fighting is.
Its a clear walk, unless you WANT to run into some insane elf-hunters or something.

DNS:
"Good luck with that, this is a bloody big country, and I should think that just about every city has monarchists, Im not sure where the remaining elves are, if there are any."

Allanea:
The USS Miriel nos Feanor received about four hundred and eigthy three differnt responses from various groups, assorted support, threat, rage, warning and attempts to sell assorted items jammed the airwaves in the ships direction, most cancelled each other out in the commotion, but a few got through, quite loudly.

"Send Transmission. Understood. Good luck for all it's worth. End Transmission. Computer, move us into orbit and begin a scan of the surface, all possible spectrums. Find any Elves you can, and put the fighter squadrons on cockpit rediness. When the second batch of transports arrives they'll be the escorts along with the Seneks." Ungar walked the length of his bridge and stood before the forward viewport. "If they're down there, we're going to find them and get them out of there."

OOC: Now my sensors arn't going to magically find an elf in a bunker or cave underground, but if they're on the surface and have pointy ears we'll be able to tell. Or on the surface at night, Elves probably having a different internal temperature than humans. So with that in mind, what do my sensors see on the surface?

They were alive. Davies silently counted her arms and legs, and, realising she still had four, said a silent prayer, "So how are we going to hide this for when we come back."

Dontgonearthere seemed to be a desert. She was feeling right at home. They had managed to lug the suitcase up the beach to dry land, "I'm sorry?" Smythe replied, "Didn't Commisaar Dzerzhinsky tell you?"

"No he did not." Davies replied, sounding slightly annoyed, she'd been spoken two by Dzerzhinsky's subordinate, Reilly.

"We've got to find an alternative way back... either that or secure something to stick in the engine. It will run on beer I'm told."

Davies was begining to decide Smythe was an idiot, "Right."

She opened the suitcase, it was filled with all kinds of odds and ends, including a rucksack, which she began to shovel the other things into.

"Are you sure you need the moisturiser?" Smythe asked dryly. He was sensible enough to keep any sarcasm out of his voice.

Davies gave him a stern look, "Of course, or else I wouldn't have packed it."

He muttered something about a hairdryer, which she chose to ignore. Last thing to come out were two long pieces of cloth and a gas powered submachinegun with 6 extra clips. Wordlessly, both began to wind the cloth around their heads, leaving a gap for the face, although one strip could be pulled up to cover everything but the eyes. Both also donned sunglasses, "You can take the pack, I'll carry the canteen."

"Why do I take the pack?" Smythe grumbled.

"You're the junior for a start." Davies explained, "You're also the AOS officer, therefore you're supposed to have the physique of a demigod... and lastly, I'm already carrying Reilly's briefcase."

She held up a hand to demonstrate. The briefcase was handcuffed to her wrist.

"Right shall we get moving?" Smythe asked, clapping his hands together and making to rise.

Davies caught his wrist, "Not yet. We need to discuss what our priorities are."

Smythe sat down again, "Actually you're the Cheka officer, I'm just the bodyguard. I think what we need is for you to tell me what the priorities are."

Maybe he wasn't so stupid after all... "Well I think we both know the main goal of this mission. To aquire elven specimens for Raza. Propper ones, not some bloody Gonad elves with a hang up about 'Djels' and an inbuilt desire to slaughter us."

Smythe nodded as she continued, "I wouldn't be suprised if the ones here don't even know what a 'Djel' is, the general population back home don't even know what they are... or just how many there are in the population."

Davies was staring off into the distance, "Last thing we need to find are fanatics, who want to kill them all."

"Like us you mean?" Smythe quipped.

"Raza isn't a death camp Sergeant." Davies rebuked, "It's a genetic research facility, anyway, the subjects end up getting released afterwards... we're not evil people Sergeant."

"No." Smythe didn't seem too convinced.

Davies immediately understood, "You're been into the pyramid haven't you? You know how it was built?"

The AOS officer shook his head, "Not been in, but I know, yes."

"We are not our ancestors." Davies replied, "Whatever they did doesn't wash off of us."

"Aye, Commisaar." he replied, "But some of that is in the blood."

Davies nodded, "You'll be glad for it. There's bound to be magic and all that funny business going on... anyway, we'll avoid fanatical elf hunters, we'll aim to meet up with capitolist-minded Royalist forces, or alternatively with an elven refugee train. Heck, we could even pay for volunteers for Raza."

She paused, giving Smythe a bright smile, "Shall we get moving?"

(OOC) DGNT, if you want to throw some surprises my way, feel free.

OOC:
Our school seems to be big on breaking tradition, this year its the tradition of having the first week of a new semester be easy.
I have a ton of work, so I wont have time for much other than short posts, sorry, but Ill try to make them as good as I can...which isnt very good :P

DNS:
(OOC, still)
Sensors dont work very well in DGNT, the sand has TONS of metal in it, plus large hulks buried in it. Anything that detects heat is going to be useless, since the temperature exceedes 100 degrees daily. They might work at night when things cool off a bit, but thats when all the OTHER life comes out and starts eating things.

Dyelli Beybi:
(STILL OOC)
Anything you had in mind? Bandits? Horribly Mutated Thing? You want combat, or a survival-thingummy?

DNS:
(OOC, still)
Sensors dont work very well in DGNT, the sand has TONS of metal in it, plus large hulks buried in it. Anything that detects heat is going to be useless, since the temperature exceedes 100 degrees daily. They might work at night when things cool off a bit, but thats when all the OTHER life comes out and starts eating things.

OOC:Well, I said all spectrums, including optical. So seeing as infared is fairly useless during the day (and I think it will work at night unless the things that come out to eat are roughtly humanoid), then what are they seeing optically? I mean supposedly the US has spy sats that can see a postcard on the ground from space now, so I assume I have something a bit better a few hundred years in the future.

(OOC: I'm just encouraging you to put some random problems in place for my duo. I honestly don't care what crops up, although the more unexpected the better. Pardon me for fluid-timing things a little just so that my lot can get into the action a little faster)

It was two days later, and dawn was begining to show, time to sleep. Smythe was scouting around for somewhere to sleep the day away, "I reckon over by those rocks." he motioned towards a pile of rocks forming a slight overhang.

Davies yawned, "Whatever Sergeant, I'll take your word on that being a good spot."

The Dyellians travelled at night when it was cooler. Only amateurs and people with a death wish travelled during daylight hours under these conditions, "Where's this G'oaway anyway?" the Sergeant grumbled.

"We'll hit it tomorrow. Probably about 4 am." Davies replied as she slumped down behind the rock, "We'll spend the time until dawn doing recconaisance and working out how to get in safely and exactly what's going on in there."

"I'll take first watch again?" the Police Sergeant offered.

Davies smiled, "Thanks, it's much apreciated. I'm not used to this."

"Sleep well Commisaar." Smythe flopped down on his belly, it was unlikely he'd spot anything aproaching their hiding place in the next few hours, but well, you never could be too careful. Davies, he suspected probably dozed when she was supposed to be keeping watch, but his training had been different. The AOS were trained like special forces, despite being Police officers. The Cheka on the other hand were, well, spooks.

The High Lord nodded quietly. "We understand perfectly. Well, rather than us demanding of you, would it be possible for a few of our troops to aid you in any attacks you make? We kender are very fierce warriors if stirred to fight. "...

"Well..." Cadaver began,"we have high amounts of Naquadria, a rare and powerful element, and we would like to offer you an amount as a peace greeting. Perhaps..." The high Lord glared at him. they had one chance and this bargain may settle on one number. "25 pounds?" this number came out weakly. 25 pounds was a years supply harvested.

The two elves looked at each other, this was strange something seemed very wrong about all this. 'High Lord aid would of course always be welcome, although only if you can spare the men, and only a small band, we plan on, traveling unseen, not as an army. As for the Naquadria, Sir the people of Giltheran need no 'Peace greeting'. Peace itself, and the friendship that arises from such things is all the gift we would ever need.' She paused as if in thought then smiled. 'Although if you are willing to trade such things, well I am sure our peoples could come eventually to a fair exchange.'

Outside the tracking group neared the Kender dwellings, with a nod to each other, not a word was needed, one of the Five split apart from the others, a small enchantment cast and he disappeared from sight, becoming invisible. slowly the Bladesinger slipped closer to the Kender settlement, to look where they where not expected.

Giltheran, Palace of Souls

The doors to the Council chamber burst open as the strangely still dignified dispite his obvious haste, Baelnorn moved towards the king handing over a report, as Githras scanned it, his face turned ashen.

'My Lords, Friends, Subjects, I have just been handed a report indicating that the station being used to evacuate the Elven Refugees from DGNT has exploded, it unsure as to what the cause may have been. It should be noted however that this comes following close on the heels of rumours of an attempted assination attempt on their king.' As murmers spread across the room it steadily seemed to solidify into one of determination and Githras nodded to himself it was time. 'My friends I move that this situation be placed under my complete control from this point forward as under state of emergency powers. That I be given the freedom to respond to this growing incident by whatever means neccersary to ensure that no further loss of innocent life occurs.'

The room erupted into cheers of approaval.... Fifteen minutes later Githras was granted the powers he asked for, by an overwhelming majourity, setting as it did a legal precendent, from this day forward the Council had extended the powers of the King, and when Emergency status could be decleared, to include threats to foreign citizens.

OOC: BUMP
This is a good thread with a lot of potential I'd regret to see it die. If anybody wants to RP finding my little party we could get something going from there...

OOC:
DNS:
Depends on what the weathers like, if you get a sandstorm your going to see about thirty bajillion little motes, if not, there might be some glare from the sand, but maybe not.

IC:
Near the Dyellians:
Behind a dune several miles away somebody was observing the Dyellian group, and rubbing their hands happily.
The group of Nomads was camped a short ways away, curvey swords and all. Most people assume that since they still used melee weapons that they werent a thread, of course, if thrity sharp edged weapons rise out of the sand a foot in front of you your high-tech laser rifle isnt much use.
This being said, they also adapted handily to anything they could steal.
Like mortars.
The man on the hill grumbled into his radio, muttering a set of coordinates.
Slightly further away and under less camoflage a man manuvered a high explosive shell into position over the mortar, then dropped it.
Fthunk, went the mortar.
A 95mm anti-personell mortar shell arced several hundred yards into the air, then exploding ten feet above the ground, unfourtunatly a good ways away from the Dyellians, but as luck would have it a number of steel balls and shell fragments were happily flying through the air at a good fraction of the speed of sound in all directions.
And there was the matter of the two other shells that just exploded.
As if to make a bad day worse, thirty swords rose from the sand at the feet of the Dyellians.
"Hghallo, Offendi." Said one particular savage with a face rather like a patchwork quilt composed of human skin. He was wearing a turban. He had enough gold in his mouth to signal a spacestation. He held a .5 calibur revolver in one hand and a large curved sword in the other.
They charged like men who charged quite alot.
(OOC: Bit godmodey, sorry :P)

In Psuedopolis:
"I take it that the plan worked?" As usual the Republicans practiced anonimity, the Information Retrieval Technicians were notoriously good at their work.
"Yes, too bad about the Elves though."
"Bah, half-breeds and pointy-eared poets. They are of no matter. I imagine we can enslave them once we control the govornment."
"...yes, I imagine so."
"The big blow was the CLP, THAT would have been useful, I imagine there are others?"
"Aye, CLP 2 and 3 are smaller, but they should be able to take the slack, no big economic damage."
"Good. Any news from our...friends?"
"They are curiously reticent to contact us in the current climate."
"Indeed."

Dontgoneart'he Castle:
After several succesive monarchs of various religions or lack thereof, the castle was settling into a routine.
The guards didnt even bother trying to stop assassins anymore, it was like attempting to put a forest fire out on an erupting volcano.
One particular assassin had caught several peoples attention for a short time.
Not that being bald was unusual, many assassins removed hair as an unneded encumberance. What struck these guards was his the combinate of navy-blue buisness suit, red tye, baldness, and barcode.
Not many of the guards had served during the more...stable rulers era, but almost everybody recognized him as the long-time dictator of DGNT until the Royalist movement and his subsequent assassination.
Mr 47 was very spry for a dead three hundred year old.

OOC:
Anybody whos interested in the war after this, check out the Trench Warfare thread.

(OOC: My apologies for landing the mortar you fired on top of everyone. I wanted to add some chaos so that there was a reasonable chance of my folk surviving.)

"Bloody hell!" Smythe cursed, bringing the gas-powered submachine gun up and firing from the hip, moments later one of the shells went off, a little too close to the pack of people, sending people flying around like ninepins. This included the AOS officer who took shrapnel in the calf and shoulder as he tumbled down the side of the dune.

There was silence. It was dark. Doing what he'd done many times before (albeit only during training, he dug into the sand, half covering himself, and vanishing into the desert. The Commisaar could take her own chances. he was getting out of this night alive. He lay there, completely motionless well into the next morning...

When the mortar had gone off, Davies hadn't taken any hits from the shrapnel, but had been thrown backwards down the other face of the dune, dragging the briefcase (now handcuffed to her wrist) with her. Unlike the AOS officer she had not had any training in evading pursuers in the desert, and instead took the oportunity to swear fouly. They, whoever they were, would be coming for her, and all she had was a pistol, a briefcase with a laptop in it, and a small portable radio. She paused in hurling expletives at the ridge, the radio... quickly she fiddled with the dials, making sure the call went out to everyone, with no encryption at all, "Mayday, Klatchian diplomatic force in extreme difficulty. Does anybody read me? Oh sh!t!"

The message cut off, one of the funny little buggers had spotted her. She immediately dropped the radio and drew her pistol, giving the sod some pause. He was probably waiting for his mates to show up, "Speekee English?"

"No killee Commisaar. Commisaar makee you." she pointed at the revolting excuse for humanity, "Have flippin' great buckets of cash."

Experience had taught Davies she probably wouldn't end up dead anyway. At least not straight away anyway. Young attractive (and probably exotic looking to the Nomad) girls tended to end up enslaved, rather than slaughtered. It was something she'd take her chances on, and hope she'd get the opportunity to escape later on...

OOC:
One reason I didnt say where the other shells landed :)

IC:
Quite a few nomands went down, mostly wounded, but they would most likely be dead before the sun came up.
The gener philosophy of the nomands was to administer mercy in this case, they seemed quite good at it.
"Nhow Offendi, vhy would whe agree to thaht? Whe could juhst kill you now and take the money anyvhay. I think you are...outnumbered. Eff there is shome reason I should hgelp you, I should speak nhow." He gestured with his sword to the surrounding dunes where a number of lumpy, but vaugly man-shaped shadows were moving.

"I'm not a bloo..." she cut herself off midway through the word.

Commisaars were allowed to wear their hair long so her ears were covered at this moment. He thought she was an elf... while it was deeply insulting, he'd said something about some reason to help her, either that or she'd misunderstood. It might be best to pretend she was for now. So for now, Davies kept that infamous Dyellian temper under control.

"Anyway. The money's stored on the internet. Only I can access it, if you kill me you'll just get an old fashioned laptop computer, a metal briefcase and a waterproof liner, which are no use to you I'd imagine."

OOC:
Where did the Elf bit come from?

IC:
"And, of chourse, there ys the satisfaction of khillink you. There is quite alhot of money in thee vhorld. Anythink else?"

(OOC: I read eff as elf. We'll say she mishear him. He does have a funny accent...)

This wasn't going entirely to plan Davies decided, "That's a lot of money you don't actually have access to and are highly unlikely to get access to."

It was time to play her trump card, which was literally herself, "You must really like killing if you can't think of anything better to do with me."

The nomad would have to have the brain of a shrimp to miss the innuendo in that one, "I'm young, I'm healthy, I'm important, I'm foreign. I'd make quite a nice hostage, or even a trophy slave.... there will be plenty of other people for you to kill, like that stupid bodyguard of mine."

She had no idea where that damned coward had got to, but he wasn't doing a very good job of protecting her, "And how many of your peers can say they own something like this."

She was begining to sound like a used car salesperson...

She'd been a slave before, and imagined this lot couldn't be any worse than the Dyelli Beybian nobles... while she seemed outwardly calm, inwardly Davies was in a panic. Why the hell had she taken this stupid job? When Commisaar Dzerzhinsky had told her the Cheka paid pretty, young, intelligent girls heaps of money with not a huge deal of risk, why hadn't she said she'd rather play the stockmarket? And now, unless she could talk them into doing otherwise she was about to be scalped by something that looked like it had passed through the digestive system of a camel.... at least she still had a pistol, fat lot of good it would do while this heavily outnumbered.

OOC: Hey, dont make fun of his accent, he cant help it A :P

IC:
The Nomad scraped out a bow, "Yes, thaht would be an option, bhut sadly mhy wife is ohn thee dune whith a rahther large rhifle, and it ees your bhad luck to run into the ohnly monoghamous Nomand tribe een thee country." He grinned again, "Although yhou have reminded me that I never lhiked her in the first place. Vhery well, come. We shall decide vhat to do whith you in thee mhorning."
Two more nomands appeared from the dark with a pair of highly unpleasant looking handcuffs, the sort with a lock that dangled just out of reach and was heavy enough to snap any errant hairpins.
"Nhot to say thaht yhour captivity will bhe unpleasant, vhe are not barbarians, jhust savagees."

Davies decided now was probably about the best time to stop kicking up a fuss. People usually didn't kill you on the second day... at least she hoped they didn't. If this country was anything like Dyelli Beybi had been four years ago she would probably only be killed if she couldn't keep up, which she could.

She didn't allowed them to handcuff her and remove her pistol without any fuss. It was a little inconvenient considering she was already handcuffed to a briefcase and didn't have a key, but it was better than dying. If they bothered to frisk her they'd find she was also carrying a hunting knife strapped to her thigh.... no hairpins though.

"You won't regret it." she said, sounding now like she'd managed to sell the car, "A Commisaar is always useful to have around. We have all sorts of skills."

Already she was forming 'ideas'. These people could be very useful, if she could get them on side. She was already begining to picture herself as Chief Constable Davies... she'd just have to survive first.

B is for BUMP

OOC:
Sorry, was away.
No time for a long post now, so sorry for the shortness

IC:
The nomands quickly bundled the commisar onto a camel (Native to DGNT, this sort has six legs and can spit over a mile with deadly accuracy), and trunbled off to their hidden camp.

(OOC) I was vaguely hoping that I'd be able to draw back some of the other missing people from this RP.

(IC) Davies eyed the 'camel' with suspicion, it certainly didn't look like the kind they got back home, even so she didn't put up a fuss at being draped over the creatures back. Sooner or later they'd decide to talk to her, then she'd convince them she was useful. Best thing for now, she decided was to keep quiet, despite the fact that she couldn't help but feel she was about to be used as somebody's saddle...

... Elsewhere, her one-time companion, the AOS officer, slithered on his belly towards where he'd last heard the Commisaar blabbering away, the way Commisaars did. He was sure she'd had a radio and dropped it in the sand. He froze momentarily, when he heard the sand shift a little, but it was only the breeze. He wasn't exactly sure where the girl had been, but he would keep searching until he found it. It was his best chance of surviving the desert, and if it took him 12 hours he'd comb every inch of sand until he found it.