Malkyer
26-01-2005, 23:33
General Mark Davies glanced out of the window of the C-130 transport plane. An Air Force sergeant had just told him that the pilot was beginning his descent to the base, and Davies wanted to see his new home. The base was a orderly affair, laid out according to the Roman model, with buildings, parade grounds, and even a few tents for workers, all evenly spaced. There were some modifications from the time of the Romans, of course. Anti-air defences, tanks, etc. A mechanized infantry brigade, modeled on the Soviet motor-rifle formation, was to be stationed here, in order to "increase the relations and mutual security benefits between Malkyer and Yafor 2," which Davies knew to be political speak for the fact that High Command was worried about the tensions with Kahta. The plane touched down on the runway, None too gently, Davies noted, and taxied to its resting spot. Davies stood, glad for the chance to stretch his legs, and picked up his briefcase, which carried the friendship treaty he was supposed to sign with whoever the Yaforian representative was. As he walked down the stairs to the runway, he blinked in the sunlight, and wondered how this would all play out.
OOC: sorry for the borderline godmodding of having people already in your country, but I needed somewhere for the general to land his plane. Let me know if it's a problem and I'll fix it.
OOC: sorry for the borderline godmodding of having people already in your country, but I needed somewhere for the general to land his plane. Let me know if it's a problem and I'll fix it.