NationStates Jolt Archive

One of the busiest airports of Roania probably had prominent people pass through regularly, but none quite as prominent as the man that stood in line, wearing a long military cut trenchcoat. He knew that security was watching him, but he didn't care.

The man at the counter looked at the manifest and verified he was coming from some backwater little nation, then asked for passport and ID. He requested that this be handled by the military, as he was on official business and stressed how it might cause trouble for the man if he held up the gears of progress. Two gaurds stepped over and he gave up the two small, inconspicuous cards to them. He allmost smiled at their reaction as they read them, then rapidly escorted him away from the public. He didn't see the cards again. He assumed they went to a higher up.

Major General Mclane of the Imperal Crimmond Marine Corps sat in a small room. After a moment, he took off his trenchcoat and set it on the table, then waited to be seen. He could just imagine the MPs were salivating over this little catch.

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The door opened, and a tall man in a white uniform quietly entered the airport room. Flanking him were two soldiers in grey field uniforms, submachine guns in their arms. Their faces were concealed behind a length of grey plastic. But the man in the center's face was bare, revealing a broad smile. "So, Major General, you think you can just waltz into Port Agua central Airport and immediately expect to be allowed access to the Divine Imperium?"

There was a soft snicker. "You are very much mistaken, Major General. I am Lord Captain Commander Anton Alexandrovich Andropov. Whatever your business is will be discussed with me." There was a brief look at the two soldiers. "I am quite sure that I can handle someone from Crimmond, gentlemen. Kindly leave us." When they left, Andropov sat down across from Mclane. "...so, comrade. The ride across the continent was...survivable?"

The General looked over the man in front of him. Confident, snobbish... all of what he expected. He leaned forward slowly. "Cut the small talk, I'm here on strictly inter-military bussiness."

He paused, then stood and straightened his uniform. Staring coldly at the other man, he spoke with a firmness like these wer ethe most important words he'd ever spoken. "I'm requesting that none of this be discussed with the politicians that think they control the Roanian military. No one in the Imperial Government, not even General Marco... Minister of Defense my ass, knows I'm away from my command." Perhaps they were the most important...

"Excellent, Comrade." Andropov whispered, rubbing his hands slightly to warm them in the chill of the room. "We find that civilian oversight... is something to be avoided at all costs in the Holy Legions, naturally. The Warlord and the Tsar are busy men, and the civil government..." He laughed quietly. "Are of little importance."

"Now... would you care for a drink?" A bottle of vodka materialised on the table. Roanian custom demanded that even to your greatest enemy you had to offer a glass of the liquid. "And then we may discuss your...business."

Mclane shook his head. "I'm not thirsty." He says, standing as if he had to retrain himself from doing something that would get him killed. "I'm not happy to be here. I want to be back in.... my command." he didn't say where that was, even though it wasn't classified. "But my superiors chose me as courier, because I'm much more expendable than they are, physically and politically, if this goes wrong."

Forcing himself to sit, the General took out an envelope from his uniform jacket. He didn't hesitate, knowing he had allready been scanned for weapons and explosives, then set it on the table. "That's the written version of what I'm about to tell you. The Imperial Marine Corps, which oversees what would be Marines, planetside Navy and Airforce in most other nations, has plans for Europe. Plans that involve large swaths being in Imperial hands. Now, we can't do this without allies and we can't do this with them. What we propose is the most unlikely alliance this side of that Melkor/Siri nude beach scandal." He smirks, remembering that little fiasco well.

The LCC studied the envelope for a moment, and then looked at his counterpart. "What you tell me sounds...audacious." Andropov said, finally. He tapped his chin for a moment. "Certainly there are benefits to be had... very well, your proposal in verbal terms?"

He pretended to be the very height of aristocratic disdain, but his interest had been sparked.

"The deal is simple. Our forces don't shoot each other up, unless we have no other choice, while the top brass that can be trusted not to nark to the damn politicians confer to see which nations can be sytematicly sliced up between us. Or, we aid you in a conquest, then you return the favor. Since both militaries are in on this, we can cook the mission reports to make it seem like we went at each other."

The general paused and smiled at the man. "You should know right off that I don't like Roania. Or Siri. Or any Elf filled nation. The thing is, I hate Varchak worse. So, until we figure out how to get him and his puppets out of power, I'm willing to put up with you people." It should be noted it was not a friendly smile... "The details are in black and white. I've read it and like the idea in theory. In practice, I think it's destined to be filled with backstabbing, deciet and total assholery, but hey... that's never stopped Arda."

Andropov frowned and looked at the envelope once more. There were a few moments of silence, and then he quietly said, "Your proposal makes me believe that your commanders have a target already chosen, Major General." The LCC quietly made a few notes on his PDA. "Would you care to inform me of it?"

Mclane leaned back. "Take your pick... The Italians have been a bother to the Empire for some time. So have the Russians and Germans. The English do so much as dip a toe in the Baltic and they're entire Navy finds out just how many submarines the Empire has..." He tilts his head. "The Guffingford Reich is the biggest threat so far. Costing a lot of resources to keep peace on the Western border."

Andropov waited to see if more was forthcoming. Finally, he asked, "So, you attack the Reich... then, in order to counter your vicious attacks upon the innocent people of Guffingford, Tsar Adrik Alexei sends the legions...and the legions..." The word came distastefully to the proud military man's lips, "lose?"

The Major General didn't gloat or act superior. He merely nodded slowly. "That's right. At least, that's what the world would see. To you and I, it would look differently. As the Marines storm the border, you get the Guffingford forces positioned into areas that they will depend on your support for survival. Then.... after a few small show engagments, you fall back and leave the border forces to be slaughtered. Then it's simply a matter of Roanian sabotage of the reserve forces nearby." Pausing, he did allow himself a smile, though it was at the Reich's expense. "By the time they get organized for an attack, the Empire will be prepared for defense of the new territory. If we have to, we'll call for Reaver reinforcements for key areas."

Leaning forward, the General seemed to snap from his daydream like vision. "And then... the Imperial Marines defend an innocent nation form the 'raping and pillaging of the bastard Roanians' and lose in much the same way. We both get a bit of bad PR, the Empire more for losing to your legions after beating them, but we both get some choice land and..." After a long second, he continued. "Groundwork for a true alliance." Now he seemed a bit sick.

The Roanian stared at the Crimmonder for a long moment. His eyes were invisible beneath his sunglasses, his face expressionless. Slowly, The Lord Captain Commander hissed, "You play a dangerous game, Major General McClane. First you come to the Divine Imperium." Andropov picked up the envelope. "Then you wish to implicate me -- indeed, the entire Holy Legion -- in what would be treachery to His Most Divine Illuminated Majesty, Tsar Adrik Alexei."

The Roanian stared at the Crimmonder, envelope being rolled between his fingers. "Yes...you play a dangerous game, Major General." And then Anton Alexandrevich Andropov, Lord Captain Commander of the 6th Legion, slowly extended his other hand across the table. "Let us hope that you and your superiors have not...miscalculated."

Mclane took the hand without pause, shaking once before letting go. "Life is a dangerous game. And what game is worth playing if there's no risk?" Looking the man over again, he spoke carefully. "Just be thankful the Imperial Marines want this alliance. We've stopped the Inquisition from sending a few 'operatives', terrorists more like, to your major cities. Tatania Skorenzy in particular... crazy ass German in a long line of crazy ass Germans. Her grandfather, so she says, smuggled Mussolini out of Italy in the 1940's."

Leaning back, he sighed. "I wish we had her on our team. Crack sniper, plus a damn good con-artist. But I digress, we have a deal. I'll speak to my superiors and see which European power they want to tramp on." Standing, he spoke softly, "This isn't in the agreement, but if you figure out a way to 'remove' Varchak from his throne... please don't forget to take the spent shell with you." For the second time, the General smiled, this time in earnest.

If Andropov had any feelings about this request, he didn't display them. The Legion LCC snapped off a firm salute and nodded once. "My superiors will be pleased, Major General. We shall see what use we can make of this, hum?" Then there was a momentary pause. "Will you be flying out now?"

The appearance of a Crimmond Corps Officer would not pass without comment by the 4th Department, and Andropov didn't like the idea of Shadow Angels examining this conversation.

McClane nodded after a moment. "I think I had better. The Colonel can only make excuses for my absense for so long and so soon after Varchak's 'cleansing', damn genocidal maniac, the Imperial Inquisition has it's claws in everything. I really don't need a visit from them. You tend to come out with... mental problems." There were rumors of a device called the 'Mind Sifter', but all the ones that demanded to know what it was were never seen again. McClane figured they got their wish and guessed they wished they hadn't.

He brought his attention back to Andropov. After a moment, he saluted the officer. After he dropped his hand, he arched a brow. "First time for everything..."