NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Hey this is an open RP (if you want to join just do!) Its about the Askiran Republic, and the Kingdom of Alidor. The storyline is about the embassy exchange between these two nations that goes horribly wrong. Join in as you see fit. :)

IC:
2000 Hours, July 31, 2005 / The Askiran Republic, Department of Defence, Theed.

“Sir Colonel Packard, reporting as ordered sir!” The voice was deep and smooth, but the measure of resolution it contained was unmistakable. John Packard was a tall, powerfully built man with prominent, leonine features. He was dressed in typical military fatigues. He was standing in the center of Secretary Chaye’s office. He had been given strict orders to meet with Chaye, the Askiran Secretary of Defence for a classified briefing. John couldn’t help but be curious. He wasn’t the only one in the office. Along with Chaye, Packard spotted Claire Halsey the Askiran Foreign Affairs Secretary and a couple others he didn’t recognize.
“At ease soldier.” Ishan Chaye said from behind his oak desk. He had been Secretary of Defence now for almost six years, he had previously served as a general in the Defence Forces, and by the time he left the military to become a politician he had served in over three hundred engagements and had fought two wars. Ishan Chaye would make the saying, ‘The right man for the job!’ proud.
He ushered everyone in the room to take a seat.
“Before we begin, you all understand that anything you hear in this room remains within the confines of this room. Clear?” His answer was immediate. A nod from Secretary Halsey. The other officials too.
“Sir, yes sir!” John replied with haste.
“As of 1800 CEO yesterday, the Askiran Government decided to set up an Embassy within the Kingdom of Alidor. Secretary Halsey has since been in charge of assembling the diplomatic team that will work out of the new embassy. Dr. Michael Kaden has been chosen as the Askiran Ambassador to Alidor.” Chaye motioned his hand toward one of the people John didn’t recognize. Michael Kaden he’d remember that.
“The politics of this situation is Secretary Halsey’s battlefield. Mine is to make certain our people are safe over there.” Chaye turned to John.
“That is why you are here today Colonel. I am reassigning you to the diplomatic task force. You will be the in charge of team security during the transition and set-up phases. Once the embassy is established you will continue to coordinate its security. I am also assigning you a security detail for the mission. Any Questions?”
“Sir, yes sir!” John replied.
“Well son, speak up!”
“Sir, what sort of facilities can I expect to be securing in Alidor?”
“The Alidorn administration has offered us a generous complex just outside their capital’s residential district. Secretary Halsey has already sent surveyors to check its viability…”, Chaye said when Halsey started to speak.
“…I believe it will be suitable.” she said confidently.
“Regarding the chain of command. In the event of a security situation you are to report to Dr. Kaden immediately. Otherwise you have complete autonomy within the confines of federal law to carry out your orders. Any more questions?” Chaye asked while looking around the room. No one had any.
“Good. You’re all leaving tonight by air-convoy to the Alidorn capital, Cansear. A squadron of Kaneda-class fighters will escort the convoy until you reach Alidorn airspace. You will set down on a private airstrip at Cansear International Airport and proceed to rendezvous with the Alidorn authorities. Once you reach the embassy, Colonel this is where you come in, complete several security sweeps and establish a perimeter around the embassy complex. Once it is secure then set-up the embassy. Claire?” Chaye turned in his chair and picked up a data pad as Halsey began to speak.
“People this mission is of vital importance if peaceful relations are to go ahead between us and the Alidorns. They’ve laid out the welcome mat lets be hospitable in return. I think that’s about it… Ishan?” She turned to face Chaye who had put down the data pad since and was starting to fill out documents.
“Ah yes, remember that although the embassy will count as being Askiran territory we are still guests in their country. Try to follow the rules. That’s an order. Fall out.” Chaye was still military deep down so it wasn’t surprising to find that he still thought in the same terms. John stood up gave a firm salute, which Chaye returned, and left the briefing room. This new mission might as well have been one into enemy territory. He had his orders to secure the diplomatic team. His primary objective wasn’t to debate or discuss it was to defend. Defend against any possible attack. He would make sure he would carry out those orders.

0103 Hours, August 01, 2005 / Diplomatic air-convoy en route to Alidor, location unknown.

Somewhere above the Askiran Ocean John looked out of the A953 Troop Carrier cockpit window, named Shanondoah. He was making some final checks with the six Kaneda fighters, which had been assigned to protect the convoy during transit. John had trained in the Kanedas before during his earlier career. The Kaneda Class had a crew of 2, a pilot and a weapons officer sitting side by side. It used a lethal combination of prolonged weapons fire with multiple missile barrages to cripple its enemies. They were all about to cross into Alidorn airspace. He could hear the pilot, ‘three…two…one…we’ve crossed over.
“Sir, landing ETA, fifteen minutes. Sir shall I notify the Alidorn authorities of our arrival sir?” One of the pilots asked.
“Standby private.” John ordered. The entire diplomatic team was onboard. The team was mostly made up of diplomats, fifty in all, and John’s team of 30 troopers. Dr. Kaden was busy with his own checks when John approached.
“Sir, we have crossed into Alidorn airspace ETA fifteen minutes. Shall I notify the Alidorn authorities sir?” John said. Michael Kaden had been with the Department of Foreign Affairs for the last nine years. In his early career he had served abroad with a number of Askiran embassies, but this one was different. He was in charge. And it was his job to make sure things ran smoothly here. He directed his gaze toward John.
“Thank you Colonel Packard, yes notify them.”
“Sir, yes sir!” John replied and walked to the cockpit. He issued the order to the pilot and started to check his weapon. Although this was going to be a mission of diplomacy he had strict orders to secure the diplomatic team. It would be difficult in unknown territory but John was prepared. He walked over to his team. The security detail was charged with protecting the mission. He would have to learn to work with them all to complete that mission.
“Report Major!” John asked one of his team. Major Sara Hall had been assigned to be his executive officer. She was an attractive woman something John couldn’t help but notice; she commanded the space around her. A powerful woman. He would come to rely on her abilities the most throughout this mission.
“Sir, the Team is suited up and ready to go sir!” She said.
“Good major, ETA fifteen minutes, prepare to fall out!” John replied and Hall was quick to carry his order out.
John readied his M5AB Assault rifle, the new model was equipped with higher caliber rounds, 7.65 mm. Something John taught would come in handy if he met opposition. Any opposition, Alidorn or otherwise. The politics of this mission were the problems of Dr. Kaden, not his. All possible threats were to be neutralized, if the mission was to succeed. For the past ninety minutes they had been flying to Cansear, the Alidorn capital. The Alidorns had prepared an embassy and according to Secretary Halsey it met the needs of the diplomatic convoy. His team would have to make do then.
John gazed out the Shanondoah’s hanger windows. It was a dark night; nevertheless, the sky was painted with thousands of stars. He couldn’t help but think about the forthcoming mission. The pre-mission jitters were gone, replaced with a cold calm. There was a job to do, and Jack was eager to get to work.

0115 Hours, August 01, 2005 / Askiran Diplomatic Air-Convoy en route to Cansear Int. Airport, location unknown.

Flight Officer Mitchell flinched as a stray missile streaked across the cockpit radar screen. Mitchell had been the one to report the incoming object to Jack. They were lucky he thought, a few meters closer and well he wouldn’t have had time to flinch. It wasn’t until Mitchell saw the seemingly stray missile hit one of the Kanedas that the power of it really grasped him. The fighter burst instantly into flames. Red-hot, molten metal splattered the Shanondoah’s viewport.
Screw this, he thought, and hit the Shanondoah’s thrusters. The gunmetal-green transport balanced for a moment on a column of red-orange fire, then hurtled past the downed craft. Incoming weapons bursts from the now apparent nearby fighter jets cut across their vector and slammed into another Kaneda. The craft broke apart, disintegrating into glittering shards.
“Better hang on,” Mitchell announced to his passengers in the carrier’s troop bay. “Company’s coming.”
A swarm of unidentified fighter jets surged into sight and fell into tight formation and arced through the air on an intercept course for the carrier.
The Shanondoah’s engines flared and the bulky craft plummeted toward the surface of the ever-present Alidorn junglescape. The enemy fighters accelerated and weapons burst flickered from their gunports.
A full clip slashed past on the port side, narrowly missing the Shanondoah’s cockpit.
Mitchell’s voice crackled across the COM system: “Bravo-One to Knife Two-Six: I could use a little help here.”
He rolled to port to avoid a massive impact from an oncoming missile. Mitchell scowled. This was getting worse by the second. How did these bastards sneak up on us? “Bravo-One to Knife Two-Six, where the hell are you?” he yelled. A quartet of wedge-shaped, angular fighters slotted into covering position on Mitchell’s scopes – Kanedas, heavy fighters. “Knife Two-Six to Bravo-One,” a terse, female voice crackled across the COM channel. “Keep your pants on. Business is good today.”
Too good. No sooner had the fighters taken escort position over his carrier than the approaching enemy fighters opened up with a barrage of missile fire.
Three of the Shanondoah’s four Kaneda escorts peeled off and powered toward the enemy onslaught. Against the black of the night sky, machine guns flashed and missiles etched ghostly trails. The Shanondoah and its sole escort, however, accelerated straight toward the Alidorn jungle. It shot past whirling missiles: it rolled and maneuvered as they crisscrossed their path.
Mitchell flinched as the Shanondoah broke even height with the jungle canopy Mitchell sent the Shanondoah’s even lower. Vaporous flames flickered across the craft’s stunted nose and she jounced from side to side. She was hit. “Bravo-One, adjust flight angle,” the Kaneda pilot advised. “You’re coming in too hot.”
“Negative,” Mitchell said. “We’re getting to the surface fast or we’re not getting there at all. Enemy contacts on my scopes at four by three o’clock.”
A dozen more enemy jets fired their engines and angled toward the two descending ships.
“Affirmative: four by three. I’ve got ‘em, bravo-one,” the Kaneda pilot announced. Mitchell managed to say, “Give them hell Two-Six! Bravo-One out.”
The Kaneda flipped into a tight roll and rocketed for the enemy formation. There was no chance that the pilot could take out a dozen of them – and Knife Two-Six had to know that. Mitchell only hoped that the precious seconds Two-Six bought them would be enough. The Shanondoah opened its intake vents and ignited afterburners, plummeting toward the ground at eight hundred miles an hour. The faint aura of flames around the craft roared red to blinding orange. One of the engines had taken a direct hit.

0120 Hours, August 01, 2005 / The Askiran Republic, The Chancellor’s Residence, Theed.

Secretary of Foreign Affairs Claire Halsey was on her way to see the Chancellor. The only thing that was strange about that was that is was 1:20 in the morning. She held a data pad in her hand but she didn’t need it. For the information she had received needed no such reminder. As she walked through the halls of the Chancellor’s residence she was stopped three times by security personnel. Normally she would have protested profusely but this warranted special attention and so she was willing to go through the checks. She ground to a halt once again outside the Chancellors bedroom, it was lined with guards.
“Let me through, damn it!” she said impatiently. No such luck they started to walk toward her. She swayed from side to side then eventually burst through the heavy doors.
“Shakaar, wake up!” She shouted as twelve men suddenly piled onto her from every direction.
Shakaar Edon, Supreme Chancellor of the Askiran Republic, leader of the Askiran people, awoke to a clash of screaming and rustling. As he got out of bed he saw what looked like Claire Halsey under the mass of guards that where piled around a dark figure.
“By the Prophets, Claire is that you?” He inquired as the guards lifted her up to a standing position.
“Release her!” He shouted into the bunch. They did so and Halsey came forward.
“They’re gone, Shakaar. We’ve lost contact with the convoy!” she said.
“Gone, the convoy? What happened?”
“We believe they went down. The result of definite weapons fire. Here look at the pad!” she handed the data pad to Shakaar.
The pad was showed the schematics of the A953, which carried the convoy and an array of inbound projectiles. Missiles heading toward a target.
“We lost contact somewhere over the Alidorn jungle.” Halsey said after a brief pause.
Shakaar turned and faced his window. Looking blankly into the night. He turned back to Halsey.
“Assemble the cabinet! And put us to Alert Status: ONE!”

0122 Hours, August 01, 2005 / Diplomatic air-convoy en route to Alidor, location unknown. NSC-SHANONDOAH.

The Shanondoah’s aft section had been stripped of the padded crash seats that usually lined the section’s port and starboard sides. The only few that remained where occupied by Dr. Kaden and his senior staff. Under other circumstances, such modifications would have left the Shanondoah’s troop bay unusually cavernous. Every square centimeter of space, however, was occupied.
Fifty people braced themselves and clung to the frame of the craft; they crouched down to absorb the shock of their rapid descent. At their feet equipment and supplies for the embassy were lashed in place. Everything rattled as the carrier jostled through the increasingly dense canopy of the jungle below.
Jack hit the COM and barked: “Brace yourselves!” The ship lurched, and he struggled to keep his footing. Any problems with his team weren’t physical, he could confirm as much. These men and women were used to tough missions; High Command never sent them on any “easy” jobs. Their job this time was to get groundside and protect the rest of the convoy. Jack knew that if anything had his men rattled, it was not knowing how the battle outside was going.
“Rough ride up ahead,” the pilot said. The crew bent their knees as the Shanondoah rolled into a tight turn. A crate broke its retaining straps, bounced, and stuck to a wall.
The COM channel blasted static and resolved into the voice of the Kaneda’s pilot: “Bravo Two-Six, engaging enemy fighters. Am taking heavy incoming fire…” The channel was abruptly swallowed in static.
An explosion buffeted the Shanondoah, and bits of metal pinged off its thick hull.
Patches of armour heated and bubbled away. As a missile hit the Shanondoah’s port side. Smoke flashed through the boiling metal, filling the troop bay with fumes of grey smoke for a split second before the carrier’s pressurized interior blew the haze out the gash in its side.
Moonlight streamed through the lacerated Titanium-A armour. As a few people flew out the gash. The carrier lurched to port, and Jack glimpsed five enemy fighters driving after them and wobbling in the turbulent air.
“Gotta shake ‘em,” the pilot screamed. “Hang on!”
The Shanondoah pitched forward, and her engines blasted in full overload. The carrier’s stabilizers tore away, and the craft rolled out of control.
The crew grabbed on to cross beams as gravity pulled them about.
“It’s going to be a helluva hot drop, Colonel,” their pilot hissed over the COM.
“I’ll-“
A flash of brilliant light outlined the cockpit hatch, and the tiny shock-proof glass window shattered into the passenger compartment. The pilot was gone. The cockpit was gone. The rate of their dizzying roll increased, and bits of metal and instruments tore free and danced around the compartment.
“Missile impact,” John said. He paused for a heartbeat, then added: “Brace for Impact, we’re coming in fast!”

“What the hell was that”, London Strummeh thought out loud. The night sky has just been set on fire momentarily by a large, bright, orange light that shook Strummeh off his feet. He was a tall man, about 6 feet 2 inches, and with arms that looked like they could rip a man’s head off. He was also a Nedalia Intelligence Agency agent, working under cover in Alidor. It wasn’t anything dangerous or sinister, just an information finding mission, the Nedalian way of keeping tabs on the rest of the universe. He was on his way back to the capital after attempting to study the rural areas of Alidor when the big explosion in the sky took place.

In a blaze of fury, he saw as the bright orange light turn into a streaking white line, heading straight down to the ground. I have to check this out, he thought to himself. Turning the 4 wheel SUV around, he got of the road and began his trek to the mysterious, crashing object…

0140 Hours, August 01, 2005 / Diplomatic air-convoy en route to Alidor, location unknown.

Colonel John Packard awoke to the smell of gasoline and the sound of horrendous screaming. He struggled to his feet but fell over something. He gazed down. It was the body of one of the pilots. A half-burned impression of what John remembered. He had seen this kind of thing before, when he was in a prisoner-of-war camp in Malawi. He had been captured behind enemy lines and was sent to work in one of their labor camps. People died there every day. But he got out when the UN moved in. He went straight back into service. He had come out even more determined to protect his nation, his home, and his people. He staggered forth through the smoldering wreckage of what had once been the air-borne A953 Troop Carrier en route to Alidor. Alidor, the mission. It all came flooding back to him. He had to find Kaden then ascertain what the hell had happened? As he scrimmaged through the wreckage he found some more bodies. The where fires all around the crash-site. What the hell had happened? Were they shot down? Engine malfunction?
“Packard!” A coarse voice came from behind.
“Sir!” John said as he turned and saw Dr. Kaden find his footing amongst the debris.
“What the hell happened here Colonel?” Kaden yelled over to him.
“Sir, I do not know. We might have been hit by weapons fire by the looks of some of these hull plates sir!” He reported his thought. The military line of thinking was taking hold of him.
“Sir, we need to recover as many people as we can now. The fuel tanks are leaking badly we need to evacuate this area ASAP, sir!” direct but effective.
“Well Colonel we better get started then!”
They searched the area and managed to find some twenty-five people. John was glad to see that Hall had come through alright. Without a scratch at that and wondered if this was what she looked like after a plane crash, what she looks like when she gets up in the morning. They gathered some supplies and headed to the nearby forest edge. John thought to himself. Shot down, they were behind what may as well have been enemy lines; they could only rely on his gut instinct and his military training to get out of this situation. He thought to himself all the way as they crossed the plain to the cover of the forest.

A large transport plane flew throught the skies, the letter A and O on the side, crossed nicely over each other. The pilot checked the systems as a fighter roared past them and into the ground. The captain looked at the fighter. "what the... I didn't get a report of any military flights in these areas. Jack, did you hear anything about this?"
"Nope, captain. I'll ask control if you want"
"Sure... sure" the captain replied and tried to concentrate on the flying, constantly watching around if something would be coming at them. If something would hit the plane, all the oil in the back would either make a huge mess on the ground or blow up the plane.
"Control, this is flight AO-997 en route to Alidor. Is there a military flight scheduled on our current position?"
"Flight AO-997, this is control. There is no military flights scheduled which we know of. Are you sure it is a militarist flight?"
"Affirmative, control. It is a militarist flight. How else a burning fighter would roar just past us?"
"Oh... Flight AO-997, continue your route. We will check the matter"
"Affirmative, control. Have a nice day"
"Over and out"
The captain looked at Jack, the co-pilot. "Geez... Where is this world coming to..." he said and turned back to the flying as Jack shrugged.

The king looked out of his large window, towards the launching platform miles away. A transport ship en route to the Terras-system was about to leave, but he had a hunch that it wouldn't happen. The transport took off and was heading fast towards the higher altitudes, but something did happen... The transport blew up... again. "How many times these protestors are going to destroy our transports..." he mumbled and turned as the door swung open.
"Your highness, we just got a report that a burning fighter crashed near our oil-route to Alidor. Our plane evaded the fighter"
"What? Near Alidor? Isn't that under some Embassy-project right now?"
"Yes, sir"
"Hmh... Report of anything new on the situation. Tell our agents there to find out of this matter quickly"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
The man stepped again out and closed the door as the king was left to turn around and look at the flames that the transport ship was emitting. He sighed

0118, Escort Flight King-Six,
en-route to the Toan Diplomatic Air Convoy.

The two Typhoon fighters tore through the night sky toward the melee of tracer fire and missile trails that represented the rendezvous co-ordinates for the Toan air convoy.
Looking at the ominous sight in the night Steven “Rogue” Ross followed standard procedure and tried to contact the Toan air convoy.

King Six Lead “Toan diplomatic convoy Bravo One, this is King Six Lead do you read me, over?”

The Toan convoy didn’t respond to the radio transmission from the Alidorn fighter, looking at his radar display he noticed that only one aircraft was transmitting a friendly IFF code and it certainly wasn’t big enough to be a transport craft, with this knowledge Steven Ross made a quick appreciation of the situation he was heading in too,

King Six Lead “Biatan, this is King Six Lead it appears the Toan Convoy has been engaged by multiple hostile aircraft, I am receiving one Toan IFF I am unable to locate the Toan transport craft, I am requesting permission to engage hostile contacts, over.”

Biatan base “King Six Lead, confirm Bravo One is not a factor, over.”

King Six Lead “Confirmed, Bravo One is not a factor, over.”

Biatan base “Sanitise the area King Six, over.”

King Six Lead “Copy that Biatan, over.”

King Six Lead “Weapons hot, engaging hostile fighters, Six Two keep my six clear, over.”

King Six Two “Copy that sir.”

As the two Typhoons joined the air battle above Alidor the alert five alarms sounded at Biatan base and four preloaded Typhoons ignited their engines and taxied to the runway for take-off.
Steven “Rogue” Ross barrel rolled left and pointed his Typhoon towards the ground while deploying a salvo of flares in an attempt to avoid an in coming missile when he noticed the trail of flames in the Alidorn jungle.

0225, Hereon Special Air Regiment base,

Two black UH-104 helicopters were sat on the tarmac next to one of the large hangers with engines idling, while inside William Jonas readied his men for their early morning mission into the Alidorn jungle.

Jonas “Listen up, A transport aircraft has crashed into the jungle north of us, we have been tasked with securing the immediate area around the crash zone and to search for survivors, we will deploy by fast rope approximately two hundred metres south of the perimeter of the crash zone.” He said while pointing at an enlarged map section on a display board. “Resistance is a possibility so stay alert at all times. Any questions.”

Brown “It’s a bit overkill isn’t it sending us in to secure a crash site, I mean that’s local emergency services job isn’t it?”

Jonas “The transport was carrying the Askiran ambassador and his staff, that’s why were going”

Balkan “What is the level of resistance expected sir?”

Jonas “That is unclear at this time soldier, anyone else, ok lets load up and move out.”

With that the thirty two soldiers grabbed their rifles and boarded the waiting helicopters. Minutes later the UH-104’s had reached their max speed and were eating great chucks out of the distance between them and the crash site.

0305, Toan crash site,

The two UH-108’s slowed to a hover feet above the jungle canopy and deployed their fast ropes.

“In position.”

Jonas “Ok, go, go, go.”

With that the Special Forces men slid down the ropes to the waiting foliage, as their feet hit the ground they spread out in all directions checking the surrounding area,

Jonas “Drop zone clear, moving to crash site.”

The soldiers headed north to the crash site, checking every rustle and shadow, after ten minutes they were at the downed transport craft, while walking the perimeter Klieg spotted fresh tracks heading east towards the mountain range, pressing the two pads on his throat he said.

Klieg “Jonas I’ve got what looks like tracks of around thirty people heading into the jungle, looks like their making for the mountains, Klieg out”

Jonas “Copy that, Klieg take your men and follow those tracks, find out where they lead.”

Noticing an unnatural shadow in the corner of his vision Jonas crouched on one knee and brought his Colt M4A1 up to his shoulder and looking down the ACOG x4 scope at the object in the bushes he clicked the safety off.

Jonas “Alidorn security forces, who goes there!”

Hearing the challenge form the force leader the three men immediately by William Jonas turned and targeted the shadowy figure in the bushes, two of the men began to edge round the left and right flanks of the unknown person.

Jonas “Alidorn security forces, show yourself now!”

William Jonas commanded as he took a step closer to the hidden figure...

0310 Hours, August 01, 2005 / The Askiran Republic, Askiran Senatorial Buildings, Theed.

For what had seemed like an eternity Shakaar Edon sat staring into his computer screen. He was going over the mounds of data the A953’s transponder had sent before she had gone down. It wasn’t no black-box but it was the best source of information they had until the recovery team got to the crash site. The information clearly showed that the A953, the Shanondoah, had been the victim of a missile strike. Who? Where? How? And Why? Were the questions Shakaar asked himself before being told that the Senate had arrived. It was three in the morning, under any other circumstances assembling a full-senate at three in the morning wasn’t just out of the question it was borderline insane thinking! But they had to deal with this now. He continued to think to himself as he slowly walked up the grand stair-case that led into the senate chamber. The amount of times he took this walk before. This time was very different however. The possibility that the craft was shot down by the Alidorns was horrific. It could instigate a war between their peoples.
“Chancellor they’re waiting.” A voice said.
He hadn’t realised the fact that he had stopped walking. He continued forth. How was this going to play out? What will happen? If there was ever one thing that Shakaar Edon was never comfortable with it was uncertainty. He looked uneasily ahead.
“Shakaar Edon, Chancellor of the Askiran Republic.” The introduction was unnecessary but effective nonetheless. It caught everyone’s attention as he entered the chamber. Three hundred and ten senators, all from very diverse backgrounds, from all across the republic had converged tonight in light of this emergency situation. Shakaar had already dispatched units to recover the Shanondoah, its survivors. The politicians were going to be the most crucial element to this rescue however. The future of the republic lay in their hands. Tonight they would decide whether or not to go to war.

Cool Thread.....

0310 Toan transport crash site.

As the two special force men edge round the foliage containing the unknown person, William Jonas stepped closer again issuing the command to identify themselves,

Jonas “Show yourself or I wi-argh”

In the middle of his order William was both startled and knocked from his feet by a screaming warthog that bolt from the foliage.
The three men with William were startled for a split second but then erupted in to laughter at their comrade laying in the jungle overgrowth.

Jonas “Ok, ok that’s enough we’ve all seen people fall over before, now lets get this crash site secure.”

Still giggling away Jonas and his team began walking the perimeter of the Toan wreckage.

0330 Alidorn Jungle 3km west of Toan crash site.

Klieg and the other three men in his team crawled through the jungle as they neared what appeared to be a drugs factory or mercenary base with a large transport helicopter in the central compound with its engines warming up,

Klieg “Jonas, we have an encampment at our location appears to be twenty armed guards on perimeter including in four guard towers, there are five visible buildings from our position and a transport helicopter with engines running in a central compound area, I don’t see any hostages at this time but they could be in the helo, Klieg out.”

Jonas “I’ll be coming to your location, stay in observation position’s and do not engage, Jonas out.”

Jonas “Crash team on me.”

As the rest of the Special Forces group converged on William Jonas he began to formulate plans in his head, and the terrible thought that the Toan delegation may have been captured by the local drug lord Carlos Santiago. With his men around him he began to give his orders.

Jonas “Brown, Kent your teams will stay here and wait for the engineers to arrive, Moore, Wright, Trumann and Ronan your teams will come with me and my team to Klieg’s position, ok then lets move out people!”

The twenty men including Jonas disappeared into the jungle while the eight men of Kent’s and Browns teams continued to patrol the perimeter of the Toan crash site looking for survivors.

OoC: This is my first RP, so if I cock up somewhere along the line, let me know.

Captain Simon "JJ" Johnstone-Jones stood proudly on the deck of the West Neen class Frigate the GS Keynestown in his Cobdenian Naval Tropical Whites as the ceremonial sunset was performed. The ceremonial sunset was largely a formality and rarely performed, but today was different. On board while they were on manoevers in the Toan, and observing the age old ritual, was Rear-Admiral The Honourable Leslie Featherstonehaugh-Michelwhaite CMG DSO; the Deputy-Governor of Cobdenia; wearing his Royal Navy whites, different from JJ's only in the insignia on his cap and brass buttons. The Deputy-Governor was 55 years old, but appeared older, the strain of his job being what it was, especially now that the Governor was reaching old age and was now incapable of performing the task at hand.
In the Radio room, the lone operator bathed in the green light of the RADAR screen. He had sat there for three hours without a single blip, but now that had all changed. Seven aircraft appeared on the screen; he strained his eyes and looked at the seven spots. Speed, 300 knots. Heading, 174. Altitude, 20,000 feet. He picked up the comunication pipe, and attempted to notified the bridge. No-one answered. The operator decided to head to the bridge himself, ignoring all the regulations.
The aircraft flew over just as the Cobdenian White Ensign reached the bottom of the flag pole. The Deputy-Governor looked up. An former Fleet Air Arm pilot, he instantly recognised theone A953 Transport and six Kaneda fighters, the markings suggesting they were from the Toan Republic.
Then it happened. A brilliant flash of orange hung over the sky.
"What the Hell was that" screamed Rear-Admiral Featherstonehaugh-Michelwhaite. Captain "JJ" was already barking out orders.
"Man actions stations. Everyone back to their duties. Did anyone see what happened"
"It was a missile sir.", replied Commander Cheese, "JJ"s first Lieutenant.
"What type?"
"I didnt see, sir. I think it was surface air, but it could have been air-air. The clouds to thick to be certain"
A second explosion sounded as "JJ" marched swiftly to the bridge. "Full ahead both, Mr Plumbly."
"Aye, aye sir!", and the telegraph rang. Down below, the old fashioned steam turbines roared to life....

The warthog had diverted the attention of the soldiers, giving London Strummeh an opportunity withdraw himself deeper into the forest. Once the soldiers began moving away from the site, he came out to do his own investigation.
Just as I thought, a missile hit. He rummaged the rest of the plane, looking for more clues. From the language of the controls and the pieces of aircraft laying around, he could make out this was of Akirian property. Weird, I thought the Askirian were on a diplomatic mission to Alidor. As far as I know, there are no other forces in the area. Why would the Alidorians shoot the plane down?
Questions were going through his head like bullets shot from an automatic .50 caliber Broddas gun (used in Nedalia). Who was on the plane? This was what London lived for. The adrenaline rush going through his body he could hardly contain, but he managed to control himself. I have to make sure I’ve covered everything. Let me have another look around.

Taking a deeper look inside the plane, he searched for anything that could’ve been reason for the plane to be blown up the way it was. Just as he was getting ready to live the inside and head outside to see if anything had fallen off during the crash, he noticed a black object, seemingly intact, beneath a destroyed seat. A black briefcase, he thought to himself. He took a closer look, realizing that his instinct was correct. He grabbed it, reaching for his custom phone, made to contact Nedalia directly through the satellite wave length feed, stopping himself before dialing. No, no. Not yet. I don’t have any information anyway, just a briefcase I haven’t opened. Not yet.

He jumped out, ready to begin inspection on the outside of the plane. Perfect, tracks, he said to himself as he noticed the group of tracks heading away from the crash site and headed to the mountains. He thought about going over to the jeep, but decided it would be easy to spot. I’ll go on foot, they can’t be too far ahead.

Shit, I hear noises. There seemed to be another group of soldiers patrolling the area, looking for survivors. They got closer, then the voices disappeared into the jungle again. Gone for now. He loaded his Desert Eagle, and lit up a match to light his cigarette. Just a quick puff before I get going to calm the old nerves down. Looking around the site with his eyes one more time, it seemed like Lady Luck was shining her bright light on London. A gas leak. How fitting. Now he could cover his tracks, no one would ever know he was here. There was nothing of importance other than the briefcase, anyway, and he had possession of that. He took a half broken cup from the debris, filled it with gas, and poured a line of gas about 20 meters long, leading right to the gas leak. The plane is going to blow anyway. Might as well do it now, cover my tracks and make sure nothing else can be found before other authorities get here.

He began walking towards the mountains, throwing his match onto the gas line. 10 seconds later, a huge explosion lit up the Alidorian sky once more…

Rear-Admiral Featherstonehaugh-Michelwhaite scribbled down a message on a small sheet of scrap paper and passed it to one of the ratings "Give this to RTO Forman, would you". The rating scurried off to the telegraph room room with the message. A further two of the aircraft had been destroyed. No other aircraft had been seen on RADAR, but then again no missiles had shewn up. This was nothing to be alarmed by; the Gubernatorial Navy had naturally come across stealth technology before, although they didn't posses the technology themselves, surviving as they did on obsolete, revamped 50 year old British Equipment. The communication pipe whistled.
"What is it?" barked the Captain down the pipe
"We're picking up something on the ASDIC, sir"
"What sought of a 'thing'?"
"Not certain sir. Measures about 300 yards. Depth about 500 fathoms..."
"500 fathoms? No submarine could go that deep"
"I agree sir, but no marine animal is that large!"
"Are you sure it's not a rock formation on the sea bed?"
"With all due respect sir, rock formations don't tend to move at 10 knots at a heading of 132, sir"
"Could it be a bathyscope?"
"I suppose so, but they usually require a surface vessel to operate from and there's no-one apart from us and a few yaughts in the local vicinity"
"Well, find out what the balsted hell it is, then!"
------------
RTO Forman had just finished translating the message into the internationally recognised non-classified telegraphic system that used numbers to represent words instead of the usually morse code; this meant that non English speaking nations could understand the message. He swung round on his chair and started tapping the message
Alidor, this is GS Keynestown, currently stationed in the Toan Ocean. We have just witnessed...
The telegraph went dead. Forman did the usual checks, and picked up nothing. He blew down the pipe to the bridge...
------------
A pipe whistled on the bridge; Commander Cheese picked it up; the Captain was busy
"What is it, Forman?"
"Telegraph's gone dead, sir. I've tried everything but she wont transmit or recieve."
"Have you checked the batteries"
"Yes sir, first thing I checked. I've switch it off and on again, checked all the valves and connections, but nothing's wrong!"
"Okay, well keep on trying", he turned to the Captain.
"Telegraph's dead, sir"
"What? Has he ch..."
"Yes, sir"
"Well how..."
He was interrupted by another pipe whistling.
"Yes?" barked the captain down the tube
"ASDIC's gone dead, sir"
"You checked it"
"Yes sir, nothing wrong. I can't see..."
"Well keep on checking!"

The Captain turned to his First Lieutenant. "It seems that our equipment is being jammed, Commander..."

0400, Toan crash site.

David Jones turned to the direction of the explosion in time to see a fragment of the Toan transports fuselage flying at him, unfortunately he didn’t have time to reacted as the white hot metal fragment severed his right arm, knocking him to the ground,

Jones “Argh, Jesus, Jesus Christ my f**king arm, argh.”

Kent “Jones, oh shit, medic, medic.”

Timothy Clayton ran towards Terry Kent and his wounded team mate David Jones, kneeling by his right side Timothy already had his field dressing in his hands and placed them over David’s right shoulder to soak up the blood spurting from the severed arteries, David Jones was fading in and out of consciousness, in and out of life, he managed a short sentence before he died.

Jones “F**k me, a f**king piss poor way to get killed, Damn it.”

Clayton “You’re not going to die Davy, Davy stay with me buddy, stay with me.”

Kent “He’s gone Timmy.”

Terry Kent stood from David Jones’s side and pressed the two pads on his throat.

Kent “Jonas, the Toan wreckage just went up, we lost one man David Jones had his arm chopped off, Kent out.”

Jonas “Copy that, the engineers should be arriving in thirty minutes hold your positions and when they arrive evac Jones body, Jonas out.”

At the time the Toan transport craft exploded Jonas and the nineteen men he took with him had reached Kliegs position, crawling up to Kliegs position he noticed that only Klieg and Andrews where there.

Jonas “Where’s Nancy and Wyatt.”

Klieg “There down there about ten metres form the bases perimeter fence.”

Jonas “I told you to stay in OP positions till I arrived.”

Klieg “I know, I just sent them down there for a closer look at the perimeter defences.”

As William Jonas glanced at the two soldiers near the base he noticed that the reported transport helicopter wasn’t there.

Jonas “What happened to the helo?”

Klieg “It took off around five minutes ago and it took several of the guards with it.”

Jonas “Who’s left?”

Klieg “Not sure, I count ten on the perimeter including two in each guard tower, but there may be more in the buildings, I haven’t seen anyone coming in and out since the helo left.”

Jonas “Ok, I want a plan to take that base out, come with me, you two keep an eye on that base.”

Klieg and Jonas crawled away from the base back to where most of the men were waiting.

"The RADAR and ASDIC operator said there were private yaughts in the area. Is this true?" the Captain asked Commander Cheese.
"According to our most recent RADAR scan, yes. Unfortunately, with them all being off line at the moment, we can't be certain where they are"
"There are ways of determining that without the use of electronic equipment, Cheese. Get my telescope, and get RTO Forman up here with the Aldis Lamp. We'll be on deck if you need us, Cheese. You take charge up here."
"Aye, Sir"
----------
On deck, Captain Johnstone-Jones and RTO Forman stood, both still in their tropical whites. The Captain raised his telescope and looked over the horizon. In the distance he spotted lights. 'Bloody playboys and their luxury yaughts. Their enthuiasm for the sea is matched only by their ignorance of all things nautical' thought the Captain.
"Port Side, Forman. We'll use Morse; most merchant masters speak English, and I don't have enough time for you to be looking up that international code in that book of yours"
"Aye, sir"
"Right, send the following message. Ahoy, there. This the Cobdenian Naval ship the GS Keynestown. Our telegraph, radio, RADAR and Asdic our dead. We need to borrow your equipment, unless you are having the same problems. Over"
The Aldis lamp blinked the message. There was no response.
"Keep sending it until you get a response, Forman"
Once again, the Aldis blinked it's message, and continued to flash for a good five minutes, until a lamp started flashing on the horizon.
"This is the Moray Eel. Registered in Port Sir Richard. Good to know there's another Cobdenian ship in the ocean. I'm afraid all electrics down too, including the engines, however we do have an independent..."
On the horizon, the Moray Eel went up in flames. The orange glow turned the moonless sky into day...

OoC: Help! I don't know where this is going!

0400, Government house, Cansear.

The Prime Minister was in a deep sleep at least he should have been, he had finished up the previous days work five hours ago and climbed into bed three hours ago. He was also woken one hour thirty minutes ago and given the news that the Toan ambassador wasn’t going to be arriving at Cansear International as expected. All thoughts of sleep where washed away when he was finally told of the total annihilation of the convoys escort fighter, the loss of a Typhoon with its pilot unaccounted for, and most sickening of all that the Toan diplomatic convoy crashed landed into the depths of the Alidorn jungle.

Prime Minister Jonathan Willis was informed of the initial search and rescue mission which had as of now not found any survivors from the Toan convoy, and had lost a man in what can only be described as a terrible accident. They where however poised to strike an illegal base deep in the jungle terrain.

Willis “My God, this is a disaster, how the hell did this happen?”

Grey “We don’t know, the pilot that returned is still being debriefed at his base but from what he’s said so far there was an airborne strike against the Toan convoy that was still going on when his flight reached them.”

Willis “Who’s planes were they?”

Grey “We don’t know.”

Willis “Then someone had better find, and quick, call a press conference for 0830 I need to address the Alidorn public and get me someone in the Askiran government, I’d better let them know were doing all we can to recover their people.”

With that Mr Grey scurried off into the hall way to phone the relevant department that would be needed to implement the Prime Ministers orders, five minutes later Mr Grey returned to the Prime Ministers room with a phone, handing it to him he said

Mr Grey “I’ve took the liberty of phoning the Askiran’s diplomatic offices sir.”

Willis “Good thank you, Erm yes hello this is Prime Minister Jonathan Willis of the Alidorn Government, I am phoning to express my deepest sympathies for what has happened to..”

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the GS Keynestown
"Sir, I've analysed the trajectories of the missiles prior to impact..." started Lieutenant-Commander Horne, the young but incredibly compitant Peewoo, in his thick Riccardoton accent. "...everything seems to point towards an air to air attack"
"Air to air? But no other aircraft have shewed up on RADAR since 1400!"
Countered the Deputy Governor.
"Yes, sir. But neither did we see any missiles, either."
"How is that possible"
"Stealth technology, sir. It makes aircraft invisible to RADAR. Many countries use it, sir. And although I've never heard of it used on missiles, but it is not outside my imagination."
"Stealth technology. Hmmph. Damned unsporting" muttered the Deputy-Governor, causing Commander Cheese and Commander Horne to smirk at one another. Suddenly, over to port, they observed to Moray Eel explode.
--------
The Captain finally recovered his composure, and dashed up to the bridge.
"Hard a starboard, now"
"Aye, aye, sir!" replied the Bo'sun, immediately responding
"Full ahead both"
"Aye, aye, sir!" and pulled the telegraph three times, bringing it from slow ahead to full ahead.
"Emergency speed!"
"Aye aye sir", he pulled the telegraph one more time
"Do we have any depth charges, Captain?" asked the Deputy Governor
"Not that'll destroy a 300 foot sub at 500 fathoms"
"We don't know he's at 500 fathoms, Captain" pointed out Cheese
"Yes, I suppose. But I'm not going to risk it. We'll use them when we have a target"
"Aye, aye, sir" replied Cheese
----------
Down in the engine rooms, the engines were working at full power. The engineering officer, Commander Svensen, wasn't certain how long they could keep going at this rate. They had plenty of coal left, but would the engines take the strain? Svensen wasn't shaw. The trubines seemed to be running smoothly at the moment, but only a slight thing at this speed could completely ruin the engine.Before he had come to his descison, and without warning, an explosion ripped below the waterline, throwing Svensen off his feet. Gathering as much composure as he could whilst lying on his back, he gave the order
“Torpedo hit! Lower the watertight doors. Stop all engines!”

Strummeh began picking up speed as the explosion went up, noticing a small guard tower. He figured the sooner he got out of this mess, the better. The tracks had disappeared into the forest, untraceable, and a little drizzle had begun to pick up. Nevertheless, judging from the thickness of the forest around him, and the semi-path he was on, it would seem the Askirians, or whoever was on the Askirian plane, had headed to the mountains. He would head up there, too, if only to get away from the Alidorian forces, and find an open place to begin rummaging through the briefcase. For now, he needed to get as far as away as possible.

After about 25 minutes of running through the forest, he stopped to take a little breather, figuring he was far enough from the Alidorians as possible. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the Alidorians, quite the contrary. Nedalia had established official diplomatic relations with the Alidorians, with Ambassador Ustede representing Nedalia here and Ambassador Whittaker representing Alidor there. He was dispatched by Nedalian officials simply on a fact finding mission, albeit undercover, operation to find the truth about the country.

Something blinked in the corner of his eye. He looked over. Lights, he thought to himself, I thought this area was uninhabited. He got off the trail and took a closer look. A f*cking base? This can’t be Alidorian…

0420 Illegal base, Alidorn jungle

Jonas had told his men what he wanted each of them to do, and separating the group in to two teams one assault and one supporting fire he crawled towards the base until he and the assault team were twenty metres from an opening in the wooden perimeter fence, the supporting fire team had been positioning themselves around the base in a fashion that would give the light support weapons troops clear line of sight on the four guard towers.

Jonas “Everyone ready?” he whispered while pressing the throat pads for his radio

“Ready” was the response from the team almost as one

Jonas “All teams, Go, go, go.”

With that short sentence whispered in two foot high grass, with drizzle turning into rain and the sun just starting to peak over the horizon, all hell broke lose on to the base, the wooden guard towers where sprayed with 7.62mm round from the Minimi guns, the two guards walking past the opening in the wooden perimeter fence were caught in the middle of a sixteen man charge with their weapons firing three to five round burst at the two patrolling guards and the two nearest guard towers, an 40mm grenade pop from its M203 launcher towards the guard tower to the right of the assaulting men. Passing the perimeter fence the group split into four man teams and headed for the wooden structures.

0430, 15 kilometres south east of the Toan crash site

The engineer’s convoy of four land rover Wolf and six Leyland DAF four tonne transport trucks ploughed their way through the dense foliage of the Alidorn Jungle making their way to the wrecked transport.

(OOC; I’m going to RP the Alidorn drug smugglers)

Miguel had been working for Carlos Santiago for three months, at first he was happy to have a well paid job and enjoyed the money at his home towns pubs and vice houses but for the last four weeks he’s been stuck in this shit hole of a place walking in circles following the barbed wire and wood fence and watching the doped up drug workers frying their brains on cocaine and heroin, as well as his fellow soldiers. They were there mostly to see that most of the drugs made it out side of the factory and not consumed by the addicts packaging it.

Miguel was terrified by the sudden explosion of fire tearing into the guard towers around the base and even more so to see a horde of soldiers running at him with their guns blazing in his direction. Vomit welled up from his stomach when he felt the blood of his fellow guard spray across his face the stench of iron the warm sensation, but all that melted away as he felt a multitude of bullets eating into his chest and arms. The last thing he saw was several pairs of boots run past him as there was an explosion to his right, a man clad in jungle DPM stood over him for a split second and there was the burning of a muzzle flash in his face and then he felt on more.

In the factory building the workers heard the commotion out side, some where to stoned to know what was going on and carried on snorting and laughing the others tried to hide or run their drug dulled minds trying to figure out what was going on, as the door crashed open four men rushed in with their gun held ready, there was no guards to protect them they where all outside, there was no where to run now there was only one door to get out of and the soldiers had come in through that.

“Get down, down on the floor now!” The soldiers yelled as they entered the room.

The soldiers cleared the distance between the door and the workers in a split second, those that did drop to the floor where put there with either a boot or the butt stock of the soldier’s rifles.

“Rooms clear, Clarke grab some of that rope and tie these dope heads up.” Said one of the soldiers.

And with that the fifteen works were bound hands and feet together their faces to the floor sucking up a mixture of mud, bugs and cocaine with every breath.

Antonio had been enjoying his heroin induced coma when the door swung open, he grabbed his rifle and tried to stand but found that his legs didn’t want him to stand and he fell back against the metal cages that occupied his stoner place. He lay there for what seemed like hours in his head as the soldiers swept across the room in blurs of consciousness and kicked his rifle away and rolled him on to his front, he didn’t even feel them pull his arms and legs up nor did he feel the rope being pulled tight around his wrists and ankles, in fact he wouldn’t feel much for at least another hour maybe longer. Before he finally slipped totally into his coma he heard one last thing.

“Room clear, we got one alive, I think.”

0435 Hours, August 01, 2005 / Convoy Survivors, Location Unknown.

The only thing Askiran Ambassador Michael Kaden was thinking about now was whether or not it would rain? It helped greatly to think outside of what had happened. However, he found that it wasn’t that easy. No matter how hard he tried to focus on other things his mind kept him on the present. The situation was grim. Not only were they stranded in the middle of nowhere, without food or water. They were in unknown territory and now possible hostile territory at that. Michael knew more than anyone that this kind of incident would not only instigate press frenzies but could also instigate war between the republic and Alidor if they had indeed been shot down by Alidor. Oh I bet the Chancellor has his hands tied right about now, he thought to himself as John Packard walked by. Ever since they left the crash John had been in a military kind of mind. If he didn’t have prior orders that gave Kaden executive authority over them all, he would have taken command a long time ago. Kaden took some comfort in that. He was still in charge. It was up to him to rectify this situation.
“Colonel, a word!” Kaden signaled John over to talk.
“Sir, yes sir?” John replied in a cold voice.
“We need to get out of here Colonel. We won’t last the night in these temperatures! Do you think the radio gear is still operational back at Shanondoah?” He asked John expectantly. Their sudden escape from the site was a good decision on behalf of the Colonel. The Shanondoah, or what was left of it, had soon burst into flames. Kaden thought about the others who hadn’t escaped.
“Sir, the blast is likely to have caught the equipment but there might be a chance its still there. We might be able to salvage some of it sir.” John said adamantly.
“Well then Colonel, you’d better head back. Take Sanders and McKay with you.” Kaden said. The sound of anxiety in his voice.
“Sir, my orders were to protect the convoy. You are now that convoy sir! I would be disobeying orders if I leave you unguarded sir!”
“Colonel your loyalty is appreciated but we need to get out of here. If I’m right there should be search parties on the way. I need you there to signal them. New orders soldier! Fall-out!” Kaden voice suddenly lost any traces of anxiety, he pointed toward the crash-site.
“Sir, yes sir!” John replied. He gave a salute which Kaden meagerly returned. Then walked to Sanders and McKay. Hall would have to stay here with Kaden. He knew she could manage it. But could Kaden manage her?
“Sanders, McKay you’re with me. Hall keep an eye on the good Dr. while I’m gone.” He said while collecting his gear. Along with a few ration packs, flares and a thermo-blanket he managed to salvage his Assault Rifle from the wreckage before it went up. He handed the MA5B to Hall.
“Good Luck Major!” He said. She gave him a nod and raised the weapon.
“Sir, watch your back. I don’t have a good feeling about this sir!” She looked even more attractive under the light of moon. Her eyes burned bright blue. John found he could think of nothing else as he shuffled out of the camp, Sanders and McKay in tail.

0435 Hours, August 01, 2005 / The Askiran Republic, Askiran Senatorial Buildings, Theed.

Shakaar found himself in the midst of a debate. Lost to its purpose he simply pondered to himself. If the Shanondoah had been shot down, and by the Alidorns at that, the Askiran Republic would have to respond. Then if the Alidorns denied it? He knew the Alidorn Minister for Foreign Relations, Mr. John Watson. They had met at a banquet one night in Cansear. He seemed like a good man. Trustworthy. And he had been in favour of the Embassy exchange at that. Shakaar couldn’t explain it.
Just at that point a junior Minister announced that the rescue team had made contact with the Shanondoah survivors. Twenty-five in all. Ambassador Kaden among them. It was the best news he had heard all night. Maybe they would finally get some answers.
“Chancellor we have made contact with the survivors. We’ve been talking with Colonel Packard. He reports that that the fighters where shot down and that the Shanondoah was forced to make an emergency landing in the Alidorn Jungle. The assailants are yet unknown. There are twenty five survivors in all. Mr. Kaden is among them. We’re working on extraction now sir!” The junior Minister was working with the Department of Defence. They were the only people capable of mounting a rescue with such short notice.
Shakaar stood up. "I want every god damn unit on that scene now! Shut down all transport routes to and from Alidor. Prepare the Defence Forces. Get me the Alidorn Prime on the videophone too. We have something to talk about!" People where running everywhere. He would confront the Alidorn Prime about this, that was for sure.....

No sooner had London Strummeh approached the unknown base did gunshots start erupting, with Alidorian soldiers flooding into the area. What the hell is going on? Strummeh asked himself. He stayed hidden, and about 10 minutes later, the gunfire and grenades stopped, with the Alidorian soldiers escorting a handcuffed man who looked like he couldn’t even walk on his own two feet.

Strummeh snuck out once again, and headed down into the jungle, finally stopping, thinking he was far enough. He finally took the briefcase, and broke it open. Files flew everywhere, caught in the breeze that had come after the rain. It appeared to be nothing but official Toan papers, something about diplomatic relations with the Alidorians. London left the briefcase where it was, opened and a mess, frustrated with the fact he had to carry it around for so long with no reason. He decided to go back to the base, see what was going on there.

The base was seemingly deserted, with a few patrol officers on the gate. London easily snuck through, careful not to make any sudden movements and sounds. At first sight, it just seemed like a normal compound, with a few guns here and there. Strummeh, however, could immediately tell this was no ordinary compound. Finally, he reached a silo looking building, and there it was, drugs that would amount to billions of dollars on the street. However, he couldn’t waste much time. Alidorians were already in the silo, so he took a bit on his finger and made his way back to the jungle.

One taste of the cocaine was all it took for him to realize he had just stumbled onto a huge discovery. For just over 7 months in Nedalia now, an unknown but highly effective type of cocaine had made its way onto Nedalian soils that left officials baffled. No one knew where it came from or how it got there. Now London knew. He wasted no time in contacting HQ in Nedalia.

“HQ, I’ve got some news for you. The cocaine that’s been ravaging our streets is Alidorian coke….”

The explosion ripped throughout the Keynestown. Up on the bridge, the Captain realised immeadiately what had happened.
"Torpedo hit! Get me a damage report, now!
"We're listing to port, sir. Five degrees. Ten degrees. Fifteen degrees. Fifteen degrees. No further listing. We should make it, sir." said CPO Plumbly, reading one of the indicators on the bridge.
"Good" replied the captain. The supply officer, Lt-Commander Anderson, who doubled up as the damage control officer, appeared on deck.
"Sir, the torpedo struck the port coal bunker. The port boiler rooms are flooded. Luckily the watertight doors were shut in time, but we still lost about 25 stokers, plus three officers. We've been crippled, sir"
The captain swore, "what about battery power?"
"Fifteen minutes tops, I'm afraid"
"S**t. So, we're sitting ducks here and about to loose power. Anyone got any suggestions?"
"I have a suggestion, Captain" The Captain had forgetten that the Deputy-Governor was still on the bridge.
"Yes, sir"
"If that was indeed a torpedo, then the submarine must have been at periscope depth? It couldn't possibly have dived to beyond the depth of our depth charges yet"
"That's true. Give the order! Fire depth charges to port, range 500 yards."
"Aye sir!"
Ten minutes later, seven depth charges had been fired. Six explosions rippled under the water. The seventh caused a far larger explosion...

0450 The Alidorn Jungle, Drug base

William Jonas was surveying the lay out of the drug producing base in the Alidorn Jungle, while his men set up sentry posts and patrols around the base perimeter. He signalled Adam Davison over the long range radio man.

Jonas “Adam I want you to contact base tell them that the base is now in our hands, and that it maybe of use as a staging point for the recovery of the Toan transport plane ok,”

Davidson “Sure thing boss, Whisky Two too Whisky Base, Whisky Two to Whisky Base…”

As William walked away from Davidson as he sent the message he noticed Carl Nelson running towards him.

Nelson “Will we’ve found a fresh set of tracks coming into the base from the south, from the looks of it, it was a single male of medium build with non-military shoes, he entered the base and went directly to the drugs store over there and then left.”

Jonas “Where do the tracks lead after he left?”

Nelson “Not sure I sent out Simpson and Green to find out.”

“Well it looks like there’s another player in the jungle” Jonas said while thinking to himself, Who the hell could it be out here and were they involved with the attack on the Toan convoy? He walked to one of the buildings in the base to get out of the rain which had, in the past five minutes, turned into a torrential down pour.

0510 8km south of the crash site

“Copy that, out”

The radio operator in the lead land rover of the engineer companies’ convoy told his driver to stop and he got out and made his way to the first Leyland DAF four tonne truck where the company commander was.

“Sir, I have just received a message from base, they say that the Special Air Regiment has liberated an illegal base in the jungle three clicks west of the crash site and we are to head there and set up a base camp for the removal of the Toan wreckage.”

Checking his map before speaking the captain turned to look at the private.

“Very well private” and pointing to his map “We’ll take this track here that should lead us pretty much to the location you mentioned, go on then lets get moving before we sink!”

With that the private ran to the lead Land Rover again and jump into the dry cabin.

“Right guys we’ve got to turn left about two clicks up the road and follow that route to a base.”

“Fucking hell a base out here didn’t know we had one, is the captain right in the head mate.”

“Yeah, just new orders are all.”

With that the convoy struggled on through the increasingly lose and slippery mud.

0530 Government house, Cansear

“I can’t believe that little twerp hung up on me, does he not realise that we could be at war soon if I can't speak with someone in Askiran government” (N.P. Prime Minister Willis is referring to the person he phoned in an earlier post.) Jonathan Willis shouted whilst throwing the phone across the room again, it had been an hour at least since the Toan government employee hung up on him and he was still furious about it.

“How’s our search going, have we found anyone yet?” Asked the Prime Minister though it was clear to see he was still seething under the renewed calm façade.

“Not to well to be totally honest Mr Willis, we have erm captured a illegal drugs base and that’s about the end of the good news, well the rest is well pretty much bad, there’s no sign of any living member of the Toan delegation their tracks died off into the jungle and its raining cats and dogs up there now so most if not all of there tracks many be washed away shortly if they haven’t already been.” Said the always positive Mr Adrian Grey.

“You have a way with words that would send a normal man into depression Adrian; it can’t possibly be that bad can it?” Jonathan Willis quipped, while trying to relieve some of the strain from his forehead by rubbing his temples.

“I afraid so sir, if the situation’s not that bad now then it will be shortly, the Toan diplomat hung up on you and there’s no sign of their ambassador, and our ambassador to Askira has yet to report in, he’s probably being interrogated now.” Mr Grey reassured the Prime Minister that the situation was indeed very grave.

Prime Minister Willis sunk into his chair and with a heavy heart turned to Adrian Grey.

“Summon the Joint Chiefs we need to prepare for war.”

The Prime Minister turned away from Adrian and opened the top draw to his desk and pulled out his cigarettes and ash tray

“Looks like I picked a hell of a day to quit smoking, damn it.” He said as he lit his cigarette.

0535 Government House, Cansear

As Jonathan Willis was taking the last draw from his cigarette, Alidorn Gold, he was thinking about how an embassy exchange between two governments could so rapidly descend into war was absolutely amazing, when his secretary buzzed in on the intercom,

“Sir I have Chancellor Shakaar requesting a video conference with you.”

“Put him through to my office monitor please Miss Marten, thank you.”

With his cigarette stumped out Prime Minister Willis looked at his video communications monitor hung on the wall as it flicked for a moment, before the Toan Chancellor appeared on the screen.

“Chancellor Shakaar, I’m glad I’m finally able to speak with you.”

(OOC; I didn’t want to be picky but Alidorn citizens are Alidorn’s not Alidorian’s.)

0535 Hours, August 01, 2005 / The Askiran Republic, Askiran Senatorial Buildings, Askira, Theed.

By the time a secure line had been established with Alidorn Prime Minister Jonathan Willis, Shakaar Edon, Chancellor of the Askiran Republic had paced the short walk to his office which was more than conveniently located just minutes from the Senate Chamber, where he had been for the last couple of hours going over the data retrieved on the Shanondoah incident. Every piece of established evidence pointed toward the Alidorns instigating the attack. During the thirty minute delay between giving the instruction to get the Alidorn Prime on the video-phone and the present, Shakaar had been briefed by Nathan Chrysler, Chief Administrator of the Askiran Secret Service or the Tal’Shiar. Chrysler was as crafty as they come. The traits of cunning, intellect and satirical humour had not been lost on him either. He had been the Chief Administrator of the Tal’Shiar now for almost twelve years. A position which perfectly reflected his nature. He showed no signs of slowing that progress. If there was one person who knew exactly what was going on it was Nathan Chrysler. According to his earlier report the Shanondoah had been shot down as a result of definite weapons fire from inbound enemy fighters and a host of ground to air AA (Anti-Aircraft) weapons. Judging from the point of entry into the Alidorn Jungle the location of the Shanondoah had been triangulated within the error margin of 0.01%. Using that information Shakaar had given the order for the retrieval team to be deployed hours ago. They had made radio contact with Colonel Packard, head of convoy security at approx 0430 Hours. He had reported that there had been 25 survivors. It was the best news Shakaar had heard all night. However, Chrysler’s report would now take an unexpected turn. He told Shakaar that the convoy had likely been shot down by Alidorn Rebels. Apparently the Alidorn authorities have been having issues over drug trafficking for a while now. The rebels where hiding out in the extensive Alidorn jungle. Jonathan Willis had not mentioned anything about rebel factions in the diplomatic briefs. The likelihood of the situation, according to Chrysler, was that at some level the Alidorn authorities had been corrupted and the flight-plan information of the inbound Askiran convoy was revealed to these terrorists. Now this situation was grave. Without an on-site team in Alidor anything could happen to the remaining survivors of the convoy, Ambassador Kaden amongst them. Terrorists couldn’t be negotiated with. It was Askiran Foreign Policy. Shakaar agreed with it intently. That didn’t make the current situation any easier for him to bear. The brunt of this whole ordeal, as he now referred to it in his head, was taking a heavy toll on Askiran relations with Alidor. Economic prosperity would be at risk if this escalated to war. The authenticity of this “ordeal” suddenly took hold of Shakaar. WAR. The Republic had not gone to war in over two-hundred years and only then at considerable cost in life. Shakaar didn’t want to be the first Chancellor in over two centuries to drag the republic back into the old fray. He would explore all options before he would ever again consider that path. Calling the Alidorn Prime Minister was one of those options. Terri Sheridan entered the Chancellor’s office through the three hundred year old re-fitted oak doors. As his secretary her job was to mainly inform the Chancellor of new events and maintain his files, which for an odd reason he kept in his own particular fashion. Perfectionism. Ms. Sheridan was awoken early that morning and told to come into work at about one. Why? That didn’t concern her. When? Right away. To say that most people would be half-asleep at one in the morning if they were working wouldn’t be true of Terri Sheridan. The woman was an internal bio-machine, to the knowledge of the Chancellor she needed only three hours sleep a day and never needed sick time. Either she was sub-human or Gattaca (Askiran Space Initiative) had not informed Shakaar about their recent developments in robotechnolgy.
“Sir, we have established a secure connection to the Kingdom of Alidor.”
“Dismissed” Shakaar said to his attending staff as he got up behind his desk and approached the video communications monitor that hung on the far wall of his grand office. The republic was one of the biggest pioneering nations working with video calling technology.
“It’s Prime Minister Willis, sir.” She whispered. As soon as everyone had left his office Shakaar activated the monitor and it flicked for a moment, before the image of a man appeared on the screen.
“Chancellor Shakaar, I’m glad I’m finally able to speak with you.”
“Willis you’ve got a lot of explaining to do! We enter into a peaceful embassy exchange with your country and the result is a destroyed convoy, a missing Ambassador and the looming possibility of war? I’ve also received notification that you have put your air force on an alert status and are preparing for war as we speak.” Shakaar well knew that he had done the same, and because of the advanced communications network across the republic he had given the order to cut off all forms of communication with Alidor. The transport network to and from Alidor had been shut down and Askiran Airspace had been declared a no-fly zone. Nevertheless he patiently awaited Willis’ rebuttal.

0535 Hours, August 01, 2005 / Convoy Survivors, Location Unknown.

John had forefilled his mission parameters. He had made contact with High Command. It was only by chance that McKay found the damn radio. It was buried under a ton of steel girders and burned armor. Command said that they where sending a recovery team but that would take at least 2 hours. John decided to go back for the rest of the team. They could make it to them and back by the time e-vac got here. John, McKay and Sanders set off again toward the backdrop of trees, the Alidorn Jungle. When they finally reached the camp they found that it was empty. They looked around and found that nobody was left behind in a body bag. Damn, John thought to himself. I bet this was Hall. John had served with the Elite Core, the most experienced force in the Defence Forces. He was an experienced tracker. After getting his bearings right he set-off up past a small ridge on the near-by mountain. Running at a brisk pace.
He yelled back: “They went this way!” McKay and Sanders followed quickly.
To the naked eye the Alidorn Jungle seemed just like any other Junglescape. Heavy foliage and a thick canopy, but unlike John who had served with the Elite Core, Sanders and McKay entered into this mission with no prior knowledge about the jungle. It was a dangerous place. Around every turn might be a distinctive way to die. Snakes, spiders and not to mention head-dislodging killer monkeys! Sanders and McKay had a hard time trying to keep up with John, even though they were ODST, specialized forces, John had the advantage. Years of intense military training had moulded him into a reference pack for beginners. He could speak five languages, although he was no diplomat, and knew every trick in the book. John put it down to his old mentor, Drill Sergeant Locklear. Renowned for his infamous 4 a.m. fitness exercises and his stone-cold sense of humor.
John stopped dead in his tracks. Below his feet lay a fallen MA5B Assault Rifle. The one he had given to Hall. She wouldn’t have put that gun down for the world. Something happened. They had been moving for some reason and came across resistance. Ambushed. A million thoughts crossed John’s mind.
“Possible Contact!” He yelled. Got down into a crouch and picked up the fallen rifle. Sanders and McKay dropped. Drew there handguns and waited there.
John scoped the immediate area for enemy contacts. None. Traced back to McKay and Sanders.
“Hall’s been taken, the rest of the team too by the looks of it. The protection of Ambassador Kaden is paramount. We will forefill that objective. Fall-out delta pattern.” John sprung to his feet and got in formation. The team had been taken forcefully. These Alidorns where proving to be untrustworthy. Kaden was gone. Hall too. They group carefully traced the marks that led away from the ridge and onto a dirt-road. Tire tracks. Transports. This mission was degrading fast. They would take back the remaining diplomatic team and deal with these aggressors. By God John pledged that.

Prime Minister Jonathan Willis’ office
Parliament house

Taken aback by the Chancellor implying Alidor duplicity in the unfortunate events that have unfolded during the early hours of this morning.

“Chancellor Shakaar Edon, as I was saying, we are deeply sympathetic for the lose of your ambassadors transport, but before you start to threaten me with war you should relies that we lost a warplane and its pilot and a second was damaged only just managing to return to its base, the pilot later died from his injuries in hospital, in an attempt to thwart the aggressors who where attacking the convoy.
Our search team has estimated that there may still be up to thirty people from the convoy still alive in the jungle, the bodies of those killed in the crash are being policed up now and an engineering company is en-route for the recovery of your dead people and wrecked plane, we whoever have not been able to locate any survivors as yet.
I should inform you that we have discovered an illegal base run by drug smugglers not far from the crash site that has been acquired by our forces for the recovery operation. I don’t believe that the criminals running these drug rings could have brought down your convoy with out outside help.” The Prime Minister flustered out.

Regaining his composure he said “We are not preparing for war with the Toan Republic, I have however place our armed forces on to a heightened state of alert in accordance with the situation we find ourselves, I hope this defensive response is not misinterpreted as an offensive posturing .”

Meanwhile at the Toan crash site

Clayton Brown noticed three men flee from the wreckage about a hundred metres ahead of him and gave chase in to the jungle after them. Brown and the three men from his team followed the Toan guards through the jungle

“Three contacts spotted heading into the jungle giving chase, over.” Brown said into his radio while crashing through the foliage.

Hidden a few metres in to the thick foliage Brown and his team watched the Toan guards as they searched the small clearing in the jungle.

“They’ve stopped at a clearing, not sure if their hostile, wait their moving again, following, over” Brown updated Jonas as the three Toan guards sped through the jungle, with the Special Forces troopers not far behind.

On the portside of the Keynestown, the submarine surface
"We must have hit there life support systems, sir" Lieutenant-Commander Horne said to the captain
"Aye. That seems true. Get me a loud hailer"
The Captain marched onto the deck, loud hailer in hand. 15 marines pointed there rifles at the submarine's hatch.
"Ahoy there. This is the GS Keynestown. We have you covered. Open your hatch slowly and with your hands above your head"
The submarines hatch opened slowly. Out popped what Johnstone-Jones assumed was the captain of the submarine. He was unshaven, wearing a pair of jeans and a tatty vest, an old Russian captain's hat stuck on his head.
He rose his hands over his head. Soon, the entire scruffy crew was kneeling submissively on the submarines deck.
"Lower the tender; we're going aboard"
----------------------
They arrived on the submarine 15 minutes later. The Captain of the Submarine and his crew were taken back to the Keynestown, where they were placed under arrest.
But back on the submarine, Johnstone-Jones had gone below; in front of him in the glimmering, futuristic submarine was something he wasn't expecting.
"Cocaine; so this is how they're shipping it out of Alidor!"

(The Alidorn drug smugglers)

0540 Occupied illegal base

“You alright son shine, you fancy a drink do ya?” said one of the two soldiers dragging Antonio by his arms to a large barrel filled with water.

Antonio was still feeling drowsy from the drugs he had been taking when the guards dragged him from the cage. Two of them had grabbed his arms and were dragging him across the room with his knees and feet scrapping along the floor. He halve heard what one of the soldiers had said, and while he was still trying to make sense of what was going on he suddenly realised his head was submerged in water and there was a hand on the back of his head.

“You awake yet, shit head” said a voice to his right.

“Gargh, I, I don…” Antonio tried to say through gasping breath as his head was momentarily lifted from the water filled barrel, before he could finish his head was forced back into the water.

Lifting him from the barrel and placing him into a chair, one of the soldiers said “Their ya go mate, feel better now don’t ya”

“F*ck you” screamed Antonio at the soldier who had spoken to him “Your all dead, you don’t know who your f*cking with you f*cking assholes, dead m-argh”

Antonio was silenced by a swift firm punch to the temple which left him disorientated again.

A man walked across the room from the door towards Antonio “Hey sonny, how ya doing, are you feeling ok?” the man in jungle DPM’s said in a concerned manner “Why don’t you tell me who you are and what’s been happening up here”

“F*ck you asshole, I wont tell you anything, go f*ck yourself”

One of the two soldiers that woke Antonio grabbed his right arm and held it out towards the third man, who pulled out a bayonet and grabbed his index finger.
Looking Antonio in the eyes and pressing his bayonet against the knuckle of his right index finger he said “You want to tell me what’s been going on up here or not”

Antonio feeling very upset at this new term of events thought for a moment before exploding into another burst of verbal abuse directed at the soldiers.

“Think your hard son do you, eh” the soldier holding Antonio’s index finger said “Not so f*cking hard now are we sonny boy” finished the soldier as he held Antonio’s severed finger in front of his face.

Antonio screamed and struggled in agony as the soldier heated the end of his bayonet with a lighter “I'm gonna use this to stop you bleeding to death asswipe” the soldier directed at Antonio “If you tell me what I want to know I’ll kill you quickly, other wise I’ll keep you alive for a long, long time”

Antonio again reeled in pain as the heated bayonet was held against his knuckle stump.

Somewhere in the Alidorn jungle

The forty of the drug lords hired militia swarmed from the thick jungle undergrowth into the clearing where the Toan diplomat and what was left of his team were resting.

“Don’t move, don’t move or I f*cking shoot you” yelled the leader of the group in broken English “What the f*ck you doing here eh?” he yelled at the Toan diplomat.

Sergio looked at the group of scruffy survivors and decided to take them back to a base in the mountain region, for ransoming. “You, your all coming with us you hear, and anyone that gives me crap I will shoot you hear” Sergio yelled at the Toan diplomatic group “Now lets go, now” With that his men started shepherding the crash survivor’s in to the jungle.

0559 Hours, August 01, 2005 / Convoy Survivors, Location Unknown.

Major Sara Hall carefully manouvered past the boulder which etched out of the cliff face. She knew that one false step would land her 100 ft from her current foot-hold in the rockface. Their captors had taken them up a mountain trail toward a sharp ridge. They had brought them up her for only one reason Sara could think of. To get rid of the evidence.
"Move!" one of the captor guards shouted across the cliff. They where edging around the rockface when Morrison fell. Private Alan Morrison fell to his death. Damn. She taught. How many more? She had been separated from the Ambassador now for at least two hours. All of the security detail had been led up here and for what? Morrison, McKenzie, O’Neill. They had all met their end up on this ridge. Whoever these f*cks where they meant buissnes.
“Move it!” one of them said.

The Twelve Colonies of Kobol ("Heaven" in ancient Persian) long ago created the Cylons as machine worker drones for humanity. These machines became independent after fighting in wars between the Colonies, rose in rebellion, created their own empire, and launched war on their masters. Forty years ago, a ceasefire was declared, the war ended and the Cylons withdrew to their own new planet, after which they were never seen or heard from again. However, unknown to the Colonies, they had been evolving into more human form, creating synthetic bio-mechanical Cylon models who seek to exterminate true biological humans.

They eventually launch a nuclear sneak-attack against the Twelve Colonies which rapidly annihilates billions of people and the fleet deployed for their protection.

One ship, however, survives; a less advanced battlestar designated Galactica, part of Battlestar Group 75, which had been scheduled for decommissioning and conversion into a museum to honor its role in the first Cylon war. After the destruction of their fleet headquarters on Picon and nearly 120 other battlestars and support ships in the Colonial fleet, Galactica's commanding officer, Commander Adama, assumes leadership of whatever surviving fleet remains.

Education Secretary Laura Roslin is designated as President of the Twelve Colonies after the deaths of all other more-senior government officials. She convinces Commander Adama of the futility of continuing to fight and the importance of escaping with the last 50,000 humans from the Colonies who were fortunate to have been in space on FTL-capable ships (Faster Than Light) during the attack. The Galactica must now lead the surviving humans on a quest for a new homeworld on which to rebuild humanity.

______________________________________________________________


It has been several months since the destruction of our homeworlds that started this trek across the stars. After looking back over the events of our journey, I have now come to realize that our quest shall be neither brief nor easy. There are still unknown perils that lie before us. But like each of the dangers we have already conquered, I am optimistic about our ability to handle whatever waits ahead. It seems that the Lords of Kobol have intended for us to reach our destination. As for the duration of our journey, I am unsure. I don't know how long it will take to reach Earth or who of us will survive to see if this fabled world exists. But of one thing I am absolutely confident. That one day, far off in the future, we will find this haven somewhere in the universe and end this ceaseless running from our enemies, the Cylons.

(The Alidorn drug smugglers)

0720 Occupied illegal base

After nearly two hours of torture Antonio, minus four fingers and an ear, told the Alidorn soldiers of another base located near the middle of the Cho’tan valley, around one hundred and eighty five kilometres west of the current base he was being held captive in.

“I, I’ve told you want I know please, please stop.” Antonio said in a very faint exhausted voice.

The soldier who had been interrogating Antonio simply said to him “It’s over now son” Before pulling his sidearm from its holster and discharging two rounds into the poor mans head.

The base Antonio gave away to the Alidorn soldiers was located very near the middle of the Cho’tan valley west of the currently occupied base, it has a larger central yard capable of serving two helicopters at once, its has a larger number of guards protecting it and of course a larger number of dope head workers.

0803 Cho’tan northern mountain

Sergio had traversed the narrow ledge with half the patrol he commanded before the hostages were sent across the narrow ledge halfway up the mountain side.

“Send them across now” Sergio shouted back to the group.

As the hostages edged their way across the shear drop of the mountain face a young man lost his footing and plunged to his death. Watching this Sergio spat over the edge of the rock face before shouting after the unfortunate man,

“The white gorillas have called you my friend”

Once everyone was across the ledge the group followed ancient mountain trails leading along the side of the mountain towards the valley and the rebel base, Sergio thought to himself that they should be at the base in around 6 days if they kept up a good pace.

(OOC Information; The white gorillas are a vicious variant of the gorilla family living in and around an ancient abandoned city in the Cho’tan valley.)

(Alidorn Government)

0725 Occupied drug base

William Jonas walked out of the building in which he had been interrogating Antonio, he was fastening his pistol back into its holster as Nelson and Drew carried the lifeless body of Antonio behind him.

“Take him over there were the other bodies are being buried” Jonas instructed the two soldiers.

Nelson and Drew dragged Antonio’s body over to the open pit that contained the bodies of the other guards and threw him in; they grabbed some spades and began to fill the grave with soil.

The convoy of engineers had just become visible through the thick jungle foliage and entered the base. The soldiers dismounted their vehicles and began to bustle around the vehicles unloading various equipment. The captain checked in with Jonas, who gave the captain a run down on everything that has happened in the previous hours.
Captain Webster began the process of establishing a defendable head quarters for the recovery of the crashed Toan transport craft.

0815 Cho’tan mountain range

Clayton brown and his team had followed the Toan guards to the base of one of the Cho’tan Mountains, The Toan guards were scaling the rocky surface and an alarmingly quick pace, and Clayton was already beginning to feel the strain of running a little under 7 kilometres through rough jungle terrain.

Brown “Jonas, this is Brown we have followed the three men to the mountains, they appear to be following the tracks of another group sir, I think they may be survivors of the crash, over”

Jonas “Copy that, attract their attention and get them ready for retrieval, we well recover you all from your current location, over”

Brown shouts towards the three men scrambling up the rocky mountain side “Hello, we are Alidorn security forces we’re here to help you, hello”

The heavy rain drowned out Claytons attempt’s to communicate with the Toan guard’s and with a quick instruction to his men the four men began to run up the mountain trails following the Toan guards, the men randomly shouting towards the three men ahead of them. Clayton Brown was feeling vulnerable at this point as there was little cover if the men were not survivors from the Toan crash, things could get very nasty very fast.