NationStates Jolt Archive

The man wore spectacles. His right hand was cuffed to a black briefcase that hung at his side. The watch on his left wrist read 4:08am. The contents of the briefcase were unknown, even to its guardian. The man looked around. He loved this time of day. The spires of the Administrative Quarter of Bynzek City just barely reflected the dawn light, making the structure appear to glow from within. The man was given exclusive instructions. He was to stand on the north side of Central Square and wait for a nondescript white courier van. Then he would unlock the cuffs and secure them to the arm of the man sitting inside. The man would be wearing a black coverall jumpsuit with a blue Slynex insignia on its left shoulder.

Glancing at his watch again, the man rocked back and forth on his feet. It was 4.12. They were late. The sun was climbing slowly in the west. The light dusting of snow gave all the surreal ambience of a dream. Then, to the man’s south-west, a white courier van turned into the square and raced northward. The man stepped forward to the kerb and began unlocking the cuffs. The van screeched to a halt and the spectacled man waited. The door slid open. A black-sleeved arm was extended from the void. Stitched to its shoulder was a blue Slynex. The cuffs were placed on the wrist and the briefcase was exchanged. The door was closed and the van sped away. The spectacled man watched as the van crossed Central Square. As it reached the centre, he raised his left wrist and pushed a button on his watch. The van exploded in a fury of flame and smoke. Debris flew in every direction.

The man waited until only the smoking carcass of the van remained. He smiled to himself and began walking along the pavement. He took in a long breath of the chill Bynzekistan air, but never got to finish it. The sniper rifle bullet pierced his lung and exited through his chest. The spectacled man just had time to see the bullet ricochet off the balustrade in front of him and roll to a stop as he fell to his knees, then collapsed, dead.

An hour later, the Administrative Quarter of Bynzek City was in chaos. Nobody knew what to do, much less how to approach even one facet of this case. The man who had been found with the sniper wound in his chest was Bynzeki Intelligence... but a departmental intelligence conservation loophole meant that no public official knew who he was. On top of everything else, no one knew who was responsible. Was it a terrorist group? A rogue government agent or department? A lone person with something against the Bynzeki government? Nobody knew. Someone had to come forward soon...

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OOC: I'm trying to start an intelligence/crimesolving/treason thread, with diplomatic slants for those who want to help Bynzekistan, or conflict tendencies for anyone wanting to take responsibility... ANYONE can contribute, even if only as an observer.

Please note that this thread and all included activities will be summarised to be put on Bynzekistan's NSwiki page.

NB: The Slynex is Bynzekistan's national animal. If you'd like to integrate your character/nation/politicians/government closer into Bynzekistan history and customs, check out the NSwiki page (link in the sig). Cheers, Binnsy

((OOC: I'm your Huckleberry. :D))

Always ready to invoke mass panic and chaos, members of the Earth Liberation Foundation were praticually swarming to Bynzekistan's borders, E.L.F. Speakers readying themselves to enter Bynzekistan and incite the citizens within to riot at really inoppertune times.

One such speaker was named Comrade Jarmen Kell, a high ranking Agent of E.L.F. It was he would was selected to go to Bynzekistan.

The Earth Liberation Foundation had caught wind of the incident in Bynzekistan when one of their many roaming spies managed to intercept transmissions about the death of an apparant high ranking Agent of the Bynzekistan Intelligence Department. Seeking to seize on the oppertunity to wreck havoc, the hidden leaders of E.L.F. choose to send one of their own best agents to begin his work there.

Fake IDs and citizenship papers in hand, Jarmen Kell and a small group of goons made their way to Bynzekistan, post haste...


((OOC2: Also, please note that ELF isn't related in any way, shape, or form to Gnufasur or the Gnufasur Government. ELF is a private idea for a cell based international Terrorist group I've been kicking around, and I'd like to kinda introduce them. I'll throw up a factbook for ELF at a later date, kay?))

Runar Mirnon sat at his desk, a concerned look on his face, as he gazed at the memos, reports and status summaries piled high on his desk and cluttering his computer screen. It had been three and a half hours since the agent had been killed, and Mirnon, the head of the Bynzekistan Intelligent Service, was puzzled. He could not imagine that one of his own was responsible for this outrage. The operation was far too scrupulously planned, with every track covered, and only the highest authorities in the know. It had to be someone else.

Mirnon called in his secretary and asked her to call President Bynschev. This was going to need to be contained in order for investigation to be carried out uninterfered with. A second later the phone rang, and Mirnon picked it up.

‘Runar Mirnon speaking.’
‘Good morning, Runar, this is the President. I was told you wanted to speak with me?’
‘That’s correct, sir. I’m afraid there’s been an incident that threatens diplomatic and national stability.’
‘I’ve heard nothing of it.’
‘It only happened a few hours ago. You are aware of the Blue Slynex operation?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m afraid the agent working undercover was killed, sir.’
‘That’s terrible! How?’
‘A sniper atop a building on the eastern side of Central Square. The police found an abandoned rifle and other supplies.’
‘Do we know who’s responsible?’
‘Sorry, sir, but we have no leads at all. I have to request that this be contained. And I mean severely contained. No press leaks. No conferences. No announcements. Complete diplomatic restrictions. At least until we have something to go on.’
‘Consider it done, Runar. I’ll keep the bureaucracy in line here. They won’t know a thing. But do keep me in the loop.’
‘Absolutely, sir, and thank you.’
‘No problems at all. I trust you’ll do what you can. Good morning.’
‘Good morning, sir.’

Mirnon hung up the phone and spun in his chair to look out over the city. It was 7:45, and the city had begun to wake up for the day. Cars buzzed through the streets, the morning congestion beginning to threaten the steady flow of traffic. Mirnon turned back to his desk and began flicking through all the paperwork. This was going to be a very long day…

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President Georgi Bynschev hung up the phone and swore rather loudly. Whoever was responsible for this had picked a really bad time. In a few days he was going to be opening the Bynzekistan House of the Republic for its inaugural session, and there would be delegates arriving from several nations over the next couple of days.

It was only a few minutes before his phone starting ringing. Lines were filled and impatient officials wanted to know what was going on. Bynschev ignored them. His first call was to the Chief of Police. He told the Chief that Special Order GP4 was in effect. Effectively, this meant that according to every single member of the police force, nothing out of the ordinary had happened that morning.

The President then called his aide, explained the situation and its importance, and instructed him to take care of the press and public officials. He also asked his aide to send out an international telegram to all national leaders, under the radar, asking for diplomatic assistance, with views to establishing strong international ties once this situation had blown over.

Then the President started answering his phone, fending off questions, denying everything. As one caller was satisfied, another took their place. Bynschev sighed as he pushed the button for another line. This was going to be a very long day…

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Meanwhile a group of Intelligence agents from the BIS were sifting through a pile of paperwork – including lists of people staying at the most popular Bynzek City hotels. They came across six check-ins that previous night. One at the Meroni, an archaic building licensed to a Diron Marcina. The Meroni took up most of the eastern side of Central Square.

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At Bynzek International Airport, the security staff examined the papers of a group of passengers who’d just flown in from a long international flight. Customs failed to detect any explosives or illicit substances in their luggage. Apart from looking a little foreign in appearance and dress, they blended into the crowd and headed for the taxi bay…

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(OOC: Cooool. I’ll try as much as possible to only give the Bynzekistan side of the story, but in the case of that last little bit, I couldn’t help myself ;). Other nations/characters/groups can still feel free to join in, any way they like :).)

((OOC: No problem. If I like where this is going, I'll hop in with my own nation, kay? One thing though, what's your nation's take on Demi-humans? You have read my factbook, correct?))


The gathered group of twelve men each entered a taxi, filling up four. Each of the four taxis were given a different location to drop their passengers off at, each drop-off near a cheap motel. With the exception of Jarmen Kell's group.

Jarmen told the cabbie to drop himself and his two buddies off at the Meroni hotel.

Once dropped off, Jarmen paid the cabbie, and checked himself into a room on one of the upper floors under his fake name, the professionally furbished fake ID nearly indestingisble from the real McCoy, confirming he was who he said he was.

Once settled into his room, Jarmen sifted through his luggage until he came out with a sattalite phone. He extended the attenna and dialed a number. "Hello. I'd like to order your German Delight Pizza. Thank you."

On the other end, a gruff voice said, "No problem! We making yer pizza now." The call was terminated, and Jarmen stuff the phone into a special pouch at his waist.

That was the supply group's cue. Sitting in fishing trollies in International Waters, the supply group made way for Bynzek City. Their job was to supply the E.L.F. Cells with weapons, ammo, and the latest batch of Anthrax Beta and other deadly Toxins. Of course the supplies were well hidden. And they didn't plan on docking at any 'official' dock.

While Jarmen focused on getting the supplies, the other three Cells focused on other tasks. One Cell was to obtain vehicles, a second was to try to procure locally produce weapons and the third started immediately on making home-made explosives with commonly available items...

(OOC:
...what's your nation's take on Demi-humans? You have read my factbook, correct?
Yep, read your factbook and it's cool... My nation's species aren't exactly human as such. You should probably know that Bynzekistan isn't exactly an Earth-based nation... I'm completely cool with the E.L.F. being involved though... however I may have to think a bit about how exactly they became involved... Leave it with me...)

((OOC to Gnufasur: Okay, here's an idea. Suppose there was a branch of the E.L.F. that were based in Gnufasur... This would mean that the E.L.F. has cells outside traditional 'Earth-based' centres, given your people are cat-like and not human.... In addition, suppose the cell now in Bynzekistan came from Gnufasur (though my government doesn't know this yet).... This would allow your nation and government to become involved in the RP... What do you think? I'll await your approval and further ideas before I post more...))

((OOC to any other nations: Any others who want to join in feel free.. There are plenty of ways to be involved... be they diplomatic or not-so-diplomatic....))

((OOC: I approve. That's a very good idea. :D I like where you're going with that line ofthought. Well, gotta go to work. Later.))

Hek Mulang was tired. He hadn't slept that past night because he'd been kicked out of bed. His wife had objected to his getting home in the wee hours smelling of cheap ale and cheap perfume. Personally, Hek didn't see anything wrong with it. He had a tough job at the Intelligence Service, and he needed to relax after work. If the way he chose to relax didn't suit his wife, then he didn't particularly care. The sofa was comfortable enough.

Right now, Hek was following up a lead on a patron of the Meroni Hotel, who had checked in the night before. Odds are that it was just a coincidence. If the sniper was truly careful, he would have covered his tracks by staying elsewhere, surely. But Hek was a nut for following protocol. So he checked the lead.

Tapping a few keys, he brought up the Meroni's patron manifest, and then the profile of the patron in question...

Name: Unqvel Mintpor

...Had to be an alias...

Booking Details: The Renila Suite, top floor, access to roof via private hatch, mini-bar fully stocked, staying for one night only, specified early check-out - around 5am. Requested driver to airport for early flight, no breakfast.
Checked in: 23:22, June 4
Checked out: 04:59, June 5
Payment method: Credit, Provisional Acct., Bank of Bynzekistan

Hek blinked. He could hardly believe his eyes. It was a flood of leads. And they were all looking up. The patron had stayed only for a few hours, over the time when the Agent was killed. He had private access to the roof, and made preparations for a speedy getaway. This was good. Hek picked up the phone to call Mirnon.

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

In another wing of the Intelligence Service, a phone rang. Ila Noli answered it. It was the manager of the Meroni Hotel.

"Hello, is this the BIS?"
"Yes, sir. My name is Ila Noli. How can I help you?"
"I was told to notify you of all new reservations and check-ins, especially international?"
"That's correct."
"I've just checked in a three-bed room on an upper floor to a Yuseg Milandro. He had two others with him. All security and credit checks are clear."
"Thank you, sir. We'll keep you posted."

Noli hung up. She phoned Hek.

"Hello?"
"Hek, you busy?"
"A little - Just checking out that reservation from lastnight. Why? What do you need?"
"I need you to run a check on a Yuseg Milandro. He just checked into the Meroni with three others. Run the full whammy. Travel, credit, security, personal, everything."
"You got it. Won't be long."
"Thanks."

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

Hek brought up the Intelligence Search Box, and typed in 'Yuseg Milandro'. He clicked 'Search'.

It was pretty basic and rudimentary. Born in Gnufasur, he was thirty years old, and a passport was issued a week ago, reason being 'Personal Travel'. His occupation was listed as 'Stockbroker' with three years experience. Come to think of it, glancing over everything, Hek found that there was only three years of data. Interesting, given that even his own file was filled with information from birth. The travel section showed a Y. Milandro had travelled in a booking of twelve into Bynzekistan only a few hours ago, and had checked into the Meroni not long after. Worth checking out, for sure...

Hek rang Mirnon again.

"Mirnon speaking?"
"Runar, it's Hek. I just got a weird file on a Yuseg Milandro. He flew in with eleven others a few hours ago and checked into the Meroni. His file only has info for the past three years. In that three years he's crossed every T and dotted every I. It could be a fake, though airport security and regular checks can't find a flaw."
"We can't afford to let it go unchecked. I'll take care of it. Thanks, Hek."
"No worries."

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

Twenty minutes later, a nondescript blue van pulled up out the front of the Meroni Hotel. Two men got out, both dressed in tuxedos, while another stayed in the van. The men entered the foyer of the hotel; one flashed his BIS badge to the concierge and grabbed a room service trolley. The other told the concierge to ring up to the room and tell Mr. Milandro that the hotel was sending up breakfast.

Within two minutes the men stood outside the door. Checking the position of his pistol in his chest holster, underneath his clothes, one rapped loudly on the door. The other ran through standard protocol: They were officially undercover, and hence were not to engage. Polite conversation was all they needed, and a brief check of the room - under the pretense of opening the blinds and airing the sheets, checking the mini-bar.

Just then the door was being unlocked from the other side...

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(( OOC: I need someone to RP the sniper, or the government/group responsible... Reply ASAP ;)!! ))

The Duchess sat staring out her office window, deep in thought. Since the settlement of Avignon, she had been very busy arranging for the defense and procurment of goods for her fledgling nation.

Out of the collapse of the Black Luthien/Acamar Prime/Verboten Luftewaffe Confederation, she and her co-rulers had carved a place for themselves in the untamed wilderness of the region of Avignon. They had made stunning progress, but still had a long way to go.

So far, about ten nations had responded to their call for aid. A good start, but only one or two of their new allies were "heavy hitters." Nations who had been around for centuries were often slow to offer help to emerging nations. And there was one in particular that she was waiting for to offer help. If they responded, then all would be well...............

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, dragging her back to reality. It was that new captain of the guard, very efficient.....and very good-looking.

" Ma'am, we have a situation that is affecting one of our new allies, Bynzekistan. Apparently, there has been a terrorist bombing in their capitol with the inevitable mass confusion. The president and his staff are all ok. How should we respond?"

How COULD we respond, she thought. Not much of an army, even less of anything resembling a SpecOps force.

"Captain, what is the status of the Hawk Recon Response Team?"

The captain grinned mischieviously. " I was hoping you would ask. They have been ready to go for about a week now. Full stealth/recon/rapid response abilities in effect. I doubt anyone else on the planet has a more capable team than we do."

Possibly, she thought. Except for that ONE country she was hoping would contact her. No one could touch their capabilities....no one.

" Captain, have them assembled and ready to roll in 12 hours. I will inform the President of Bynzekistan of our intent to ferret out the perpetrators of this cowardly deed." She sat forward in her chair, hands clasped in front of her.

" Now listen closely, captain. There are," glancing down at a report," twelve members of this Team. I want them in there and out of there without so much as a scratch on any of them. If they get into an impossible situation, I want a HCGS ready to extract them. Got me, captain?"

The captain snapped to attention, saluted, and said," Yes Ma'am, understood Ma'am."

As she watched the captain depart, she tried to dispell the negative possibilities filling her mind. She thought of her long-unheard from relative.
" M'lord..........where are you.............?"

bump

Jarmen Kell opened the door slowly, glancing impassively at the two. "Yes?"

One spoke, saying they were here to deliver their breakfest and air out the sheets and open the blinds. Jarmen opened the door wider, allowing them to see that they were compentent enough to know how to open the blinds. He stepped back, and let them in.

"Thank you for the service." He spoke calmly, no hint of worry or stress in his voice. A seasoned Speaker, Jarmen Kell knew how to deal with inqisutive authority types.

The room itself was just about settled in. The few suitcases they had were already unpacked, and various clothes were hung in the closet. One of Jarmen's goons was in the bathroom, shaving with a straight edged razor, while the other laid on the bed, flipping between local news and some animated kid's show. He chuckled every so often at the kid's show, and would nod knowingly to himself whenever he heard something interesting on the news.

"If you could just set the food over there," Jarmen motioned to a spot near the bed, "That'd be grand." He smiled charmingly at the two men.

The twelve members of Hawk Recon checked and double-checked their equipment and weapons. This was their first mission since completing intensive training in the mountains of Alsace-Lorain and the swamps of St. Germain-Lorain.

Sgt. Klapp stood with his arms folded across his chest, casually assessing his men. " So, you guys think your'e ready, huh? Lemme tell ya something, gentlmen. This 'ELF' bunch are no pansies. They are a renegade offshoot of the original ELF formed in Gnasfur many years ago. As you already know, the Gnasfur are often referred to as "the cat people". This may mean a lot of things, but what is important to remember is that they are not human, so they do not think like humans, which means we have to think like cats."

One of the men snickered. " Cats are pussies. Are you telling us we're going up against a bunch of pussies?" A couple of the others laughed, but the seargent wasn't smiling.

" That attitude is gonna get you killed, mister," he barked. These are highly trained, alien fighters, with capabilities we can only guess at. We are all going to have to be on our collective toes when we drop into B-Stan. Our job is to gather info and get out. If we come across the Gnasfur, I hope to holy hell we see them first. The Duchess wants us in and out of there as quickly as possible.....preferally intact. There are to be no heroics, no engaging of any enemy unless fired upon. There are three HCGS ready to scramble to our FireZone should it be necessary to get us out in a hurry. OK, any questions?"

There were none. Twenty-three minute to the DropZone................

((OOC: Umh... Actually, E.L.F. never originated in Gnufasur. And they have secret cells all over the globe. Next time, if you're unsure, you can ask! But for now, please edit the post. Thus far, only the leaders of E.L.F. know of their involvment, and since they haven't done anything yet, they haven't taken credit for anything, hence no one would know of their involvement until after the fact. Unless you feel you have a really good reason for your men knowing of ELF's involvement...))

ooc: actually, I am well aware of all this. This first mission is doomed to a disastrous failure due to misinformation. As you know, EL is a new nation inexperienced with much of anything of a military nature. I'm using this as a "set-up" for further action down the road. Thanks for the note....I think this thread can turn into something really bizarre if we all just flow with it.

ooc: actually, I am well aware of all this. This first mission is doomed to a disastrous failure due to misinformation. As you know, EL is a new nation inexperienced with much of anything of a military nature. I'm using this as a "set-up" for further action down the road. Thanks for the note....I think this thread can turn into something really bizarre if we all just flow with it.

((OOC: Mmkay. Jus' checking then. :P I think we should delete our OOC posts to clear up clutter. :D))

Olim Merek sat at his console, punching buttons, adjusting his ear- and mouth-pieces, speaking clearly, answering questions... Merek was one of the twenty technicians that manned the Bynzekistan Air Traffic Control Tower on the outskirts of Bynzek City. But Merek was different. He also worked for the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service and the Bynzekistan Space Agency. A few minutes ago the head of the BSA had told her to key in a new frequency. The frequency for one of the new spaceborne early warning satellites the government had just purchased. Merek knew that President Bynschev wouldn't be taking any chances, and would have approved the purchase immediately.

The satellite had been launched about a half-hour ago, and Merek took a sip of coffee and watched its progress on the situation screen. It had now taken up a geosynchronous position above Bynzek City, and had just begun detection and transmission.

No sooner had its position been reached, and Merek's coffee been placed back on the desk, than the sensors went wild in Merek's ear. High-pitched beeps reverberated around his head. A stealth aircraft had entered the city's airspace. No markings, government or otherwise. No signatures. Nothing. Just a steady velocity, heading straight for the centre of the city.

Merek pulled out his secure phone and dialled Mirnon, head of the BIS.

"Mirnon."
"It's Merek, sir. That new satellite just picked up a new signal. A stealth plane headed right for the middle of the city. The only reason we got it was because of the satellite."
"Thanks, I'll let the Prez know."

Merek just hoped they figured out what was going on in time.

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

President Bynschev was confused. He'd just gotten a call from Runar Mirnon saying they'd picked up a stealth plane over the capital. But who on earth could that be, and what could they be doing here?

He rang the Air Traffic Control Tower and asked to be patched through on a secure frequency to the aircraft. He was given the all-clear.

"Unidentified aircraft over Bynzek City, this is Georgi Bynschev, President of Bynzekistan. Please state your origin, status and purpose."
"President Bynschev, this is Sergeant Klapp of the Hawk Reconnaissance Response Team of the Elyria-Lorain government. I and my team have been sent by authorisation of the Duchess herself to see what's going on in the city."
"Sgt. Klapp, how could you be aware of anything? The only thing that has happened this morning is of minor significance, and is being taken care of. What else do you know?"
"Mr President, our sources tell us that there has been a bombing in your city, presumably perpetrated by terrorists."
"I'm afraid your sources are incorrect, Sergeant. I have no knowledge of such an event. Who have you been told is responsible?"
"A group called the Earth Liberation Front, who travelled to Bynzekistan from Gnufasur early this morning. We were told there was a group of twelve who landed in your country."
"Sergeant, in the interests of diplomacy and not blowing things out of proportion or into oblivion, can I request you remain airborne until I have cleared this up?"
"Of course, Mr President. Take all the time you need."
"Thank you. We'll be in touch."

Shit, Bynzschev thought. What the hell was going on? He'd just approved a diplomatic relationship with Elyria-Lorain, and then they were sending special operations details into his country on suspicion of a non-existent terrorist attack!

He immediately dialled up the transmit frequency to Elyria-Lorain....

"Your Grace, I apologise for the interruption, however I've just been in contact with one Sergeant Klapp, who is presently airborne over Bynzek City. He has been sent here with the idea that the Earth Liberation Front has attacked the city. With all due respect, Your Grace - What's going on? Sincerely, Georgi Bynschev, President of Bynzekistan."

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OOC: I like this. I like this alot :D

Meanwhile in a top floor room of the Meroni Hotel, the undercover BIS agent casually lifted the tray from the food cart. On it was a typical Continental Breakfast, with a Bynzeki twist: Scrambled Slynex Eggs. Considered a delicacy. But that was the least of the agent's concerns. As he placed the tray on the ledge by the window, he briefly glanced under the bed, and saw the corner of a reinforced black case. It had been reinforced with steel. On the steel was printed characters, numbers and letters. It was a weapons case. He guessed it was large enough to hold firearms and the makings of an explosive device.

The agent, however, kept this to himself as he smiled politely at the man who had let him in and made his way out, his partner pushing the cart behind him.

Once back in the van outside, they keyed the frequency for BIS headquarters. Runar Mirnon answered.

"Anything?"
"Spotted one weapons case badly hidden under the bed. Suspect it holds a set of firearms and potential ED. Could be others."
"Okay. Good work, lads. Come home."

The driver fired the ignition and the van headed out of Central Square and back towards BIS HQ.

Olim Merek sat at his console, punching buttons, adjusting his ear- and mouth-pieces, speaking clearly, answering questions... Merek was one of the twenty technicians that manned the Bynzekistan Air Traffic Control Tower on the outskirts of Bynzek City. But Merek was different. He also worked for the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service and the Bynzekistan Space Agency. A few minutes ago the head of the BSA had told her to key in a new frequency. The frequency for one of the new spaceborne early warning satellites the government had just purchased. Merek knew that President Bynschev wouldn't be taking any chances, and would have approved the purchase immediately.

The satellite had been launched about a half-hour ago, and Merek took a sip of coffee and watched its progress on the situation screen. It had now taken up a geosynchronous position above Bynzek City, and had just begun detection and transmission.

No sooner had its position been reached, and Merek's coffee been placed back on the desk, than the sensors went wild in Merek's ear. High-pitched beeps reverberated around his head. A stealth aircraft had entered the city's airspace. No markings, government or otherwise. No signatures. Nothing. Just a steady velocity, heading straight for the centre of the city.

Merek pulled out his secure phone and dialled Mirnon, head of the BIS.

"Mirnon."
"It's Merek, sir. That new satellite just picked up a new signal. A stealth plane headed right for the middle of the city. The only reason we got it was because of the satellite."
"Thanks, I'll let the Prez know."

Merek just hoped they figured out what was going on in time.

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

President Bynschev was confused. He'd just gotten a call from Runar Mirnon saying they'd picked up a stealth plane over the capital. But who on earth could that be, and what could they be doing here?

He rang the Air Traffic Control Tower and asked to be patched through on a secure frequency to the aircraft. He was given the all-clear.

"Unidentified aircraft over Bynzek City, this is Georgi Bynschev, President of Bynzekistan. Please state your origin, status and purpose."
"President Bynschev, this is Sergeant Klapp of the Hawk Reconnaissance Response Team of the Elyria-Lorain government. I and my team have been sent by authorisation of the Duchess herself to see what's going on in the city."
"Sgt. Klapp, how could you be aware of anything? The only thing that has happened this morning is of minor significance, and is being taken care of. What else do you know?"
"Mr President, our sources tell us that there has been a bombing in your city, presumably perpetrated by terrorists."
"I'm afraid your sources are incorrect, Sergeant. I have no knowledge of such an event. Who have you been told is responsible?"
"A group called the Earth Liberation Front, who travelled to Bynzekistan from Gnufasur early this morning. We were told there was a group of twelve who landed in your country."
"Sergeant, in the interests of diplomacy and not blowing things out of proportion or into oblivion, can I request you remain airborne until I have cleared this up?"
"Of course, Mr President. Take all the time you need."
"Thank you. We'll be in touch."

Shit, Bynzschev thought. What the hell was going on? He'd just approved a diplomatic relationship with Elyria-Lorain, and then they were sending special operations details into his country on suspicion of a non-existent terrorist attack!

He immediately dialled up the transmit frequency to Elyria-Lorain....

"Your Grace, I apologise for the interruption, however I've just been in contact with one Sergeant Klapp, who is presently airborne over Bynzek City. He has been sent here with the idea that the Earth Liberation Front has attacked the city. With all due respect, Your Grace - What's going on? Sincerely, Georgi Bynschev, President of Bynzekistan."

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OOC: I like this. I like this alot :D


The Duchess' computer lit up like a Christmas tree, yellow turning to orange, turning to blood red. What the hell, she thought. A message from the President of B-Stan. Uh oh. Something already went wrong, dammit!

As she scanned the message, she knew that something was not right. They had received info that a car-bomb had been detonated in the central Square of Bynzek City, near the Admin Sector. Although the details had been sketchy as to the possible perpetrators, who else but terrorists could have been responsible. Then she remembered Rule Number One: never assume anything. Very little ever appeared as it actually was. Perception was rarely reality when it came to violence-tinged politics.

" Captain, place an immediate recall to the Hawk Team! Something has gone terribly wrong in B-Stan!"

Striving to compose herself, she keyed the response code to President Bynschev.

" Mr. President, my apologies. We had information regarding an explosion near your Administrative Center, off of Center Square in Bynzek City. I sent the appropriate scrambled code to your people advising them that we were going to attempt to discover who attacked your nation. I have called off our Recon Team pending your response."

Sgt. Klapp read the order again. " Dammit! Recalled! Just when we were about to drop. Ah, shit....no fun today gentlemen. We're heading ....."

He never got to finish the sentence. One missile had struck the port wing of the aircraft, another the mid-section. Nine of the Hawk team died instantly.
The remaining three jumped, or rather fell, out of the gaping hole in the infrastructure of the plane. Fire burned tham all, for they were covered in jet fuel when the tanks ruptured. Only Sgt. Klapp and Cpl. Renton survived to reach the ground. The other trooper burned to death before he hit the ground.

Ignoring his wounds, Klapp scanned the area quickly, and then bundled up the two parachutes. The corporal was badly burned, but conscious.

They were in a heavily wooded area about 3 klicks from a small town. I hope the Duchess gets us out of here, Klapp thought. He felt around and found his zonebug. This, he hoped, would alert his people to his location. And they'd better get here quick, he thought, or I'm gonna have another dead man on my hands..........

((OOC: Hope you don't mind... :P))

Almost as soon as the good Sergeant triggered his zonebug, did a small group of ELF Rebels seem to materalize froom the woods, AK-47s aimed threateningly at the man. It seems his information was wrong, these weren't Nekos, but rather full fledged humans.

"Don't move." One armored Rebel warned, brandishing a flamethrower type weapon. The fact that a small viewhole in the tank on his back showed some sort of glowing green liquid wasn't comforting. Although Klapp couldn't possibly tell at the time, the tank was full of industerial waste by-products, a custom cocktail of deadly chemicals strong enough to cause instant cancer with the slightest touch. But, the glowing green liqiud was enough of a deterrent.

Another two, brandishing AKs, moved up closer behind him. "Drop your weapon." Both ordered...

((OOC2: A total of five Rebels. Four with AKs. One Toxin Rebel.))

The observer watched from a secure location as the Rebels took the Elyria-Lorain soldiers' weapons and walked them to a small convoy of ATVs.

The observer waited until the ATVs were about a kilometre away before he calmly walked the five hundred or so metres to where the action had taken place. The ELF troops were a little out of practise. They'd left the zonebug behind.

The observer bent over slowly and picked up the zonebug, reactivating it. He then went back to his secure location, grabbed his kit and walked to his own vehicle parked nearby. Tossing the active zonebug into the glovebox, he fired the ignition and plunged his foot into the accelerator, sending a cloud of dust hurtling backwards. The vehicle sped off. Its occupant removed his jacket whilst driving, revealing a tough black field sweater with a lone, stark symbol emblazoned across the back: A blue Slynex.

Klapp glanced at each of the creatures around him.

What the fuck, he thought. Recalled, shot down, burned, sore as a bitch, and now this. A bunch of unidentifiable freaks with automatic weapons and some kinda flame-thrower thing. Shit, what was the one saying to him? It was pointing at his Beretta. Guess I better drop it, he thought. He did so, and then heard the faintest hum of a Comanche Gun Ship coming in from the west.

Well, shitfire, he thought, here comes the cavalry..................

Captain Laforge hit the triangulation button on the console and the screen immediately found the zonebug. Problem was, it was headed south at a pace that told him it wasn't a man walking in that direction. He spotted movement to his left and saw three or four vehicles moving north. He brought the gunship around and closed the gap between him and the vehicles.

"Lieutenant, we have a bunch of guys on what appears to be ATV's heading due north. I'm gonna check 'em out."

" Aye, sir. Shall we initiate contact?"

He was answered by a hail of bullets that tore into the HCGS, narrowly missing him.

Lt. Hanson immediately returned fire, the .35 mm gatling Gun cutting a swath through the fleeing line of ATV's. Thats when he saw the Elyrian soldiers.

" Captain, they got our people!"

" Cease fire, lieutenant. We'll just follow at a distance until a more opportune moment for rescue presents itself."

"Aye, sir."

________________________________________________________________

Stupid bastards, Klapp thought. What the hell were they doing shooting at their own men? Then he realized that his zonebug was missing. They don't know we're here, he thought. Dammit, this mission had turned into a cluster-fuck..........

A Rebel rounded up the immobile Capton Renton, and with him and the Sergeant in tow, boarded a nearby ATV. A sled was attached to the back of each, and on each was various supplies, weapons, chemical agents, and other such equipments. Room was made on one, all weapons and other dangerous items removed and the two loaded on it.

As the seven ATVs made off, the rider of very last one heard the tell-tale sound of helicopters incoming. Cursing, he relyed this message to the others, "Step it up! We got company!"

Turning around on his ATV, the last man rose his AK towards the approaching gunship, and opened fire. His attack was immediately met with a counter attack from the gunship.

The gunship held its fire, and the ATVs split up into two groups, one with the prisoners, the other with the supplies.

Knowing of the Stinger missile launchers in his supply load, the man who had fired upon the gunship slammed his vehicle to a stop, hopping off to retreive the heat-seeking missile launcher. "Capitalist pig! Meet your end!" He screamed, as he threw open the weapons case that held it and pulled out the launcher...

only two ATVs now, one with the two prisoners, the other with supplies, made a wild zig-zag evasive pattern through the woods, heading for the house of a believed ELF supporter in the nearby small town, which would opperate as a safe house for the time being...

Runar Mirnon, head of the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service, hung up the phone. He'd just been speaking to the President. For once, Mirnon was the one getting the intelligence from above, not vice versa.

Mirnon picked up the phone again and called Ila Noli and Hek Mulang into his office. Once they were sitting down he briefed them.

"I've just been on the phone with the President. Apparently a stealth plane from Elyria-Lorain was just airborne over the capital. It was running an operation authorised by the Duchess of the nation; just your stock-standard drop-in, check it out and go home. But they were running under the assumption that there'd been a terrorist attack in the city earlier this morning."
"How'd they get that idea?" Noli asked.
"I have no idea. But they also believed the Earth Liberation Front was responsible, and that twelve ELF men were here in Bynzekistan. I think we have to assume that the men in the Meroni are hostiles. There's no harm in bringing them in, asking them a few questions and searching their room."
Hek stirred. "But what about..."
"Human rights? Non-existent when it comes to suspected terrorists. Besides, if they haven't done anything wrong we'll pardon them and they'll be free to do what they want. See the sights, take some photos, screw some Larylen hookers, I don't give a shit. Just as long as they don't blow anything up or kill anyone. Hek, you're running point on the Meroni raid. Ila, do a complete check on the ELF. As much intel as you can get."

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

An hour later a five-man squad, dressed in full black fatigues, armed with automatic rifles, stormed through the door of the room booked in Yuseg Milandro's name. It was empty. The beds were made, the blinds closed. One of the men checked under the bed. Nothing.

Two of the men rushed out into the corridor and up through the fire escape onto the roof. It was clear. They went back down to rejoin their squad.

"Anything?"
"It's clean, sir. They must've cleared out not long after we were here. The concierge said he saw nothing. I don't know -"

At that moment a tremendous explosion tore through the room where the five-man squad was standing. A searing heat blasted outwards, shattering the windows, incinerating the blinds, and the resultant force flipped one of the mattresses up against the wall. Flames and debris shot out of the windows, showering the eastern part of Central Square in glass, splinters, paper and scraps of metal.

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

The observer brought his vehicle to a halt inside a small garage near a rundown shack a few kilometres east of the outskirts of Bynzek City, right on the coast. He took his kit and the zonebug and walked down to the water's edge, where a small speedboat was moored. Tossing his gear into the boat, he untied the ropes and hopped in. A few revs and the engine was going, and the observer steered the small boat southeast, through the northern isles of Nimolu, and a few hours later, he was at the southernmost port of the ancient ring-shaped island of Duvor.

From there he found a Romani transport bound for the huge bay in the centre of the island. The Romani people knew him, welcomed him. He had been good to them, and in return they had offered him sanctuary from his worldly troubles. The only condition was that he not bring those troubles here. Once at the edge of the lake, the observer was given a small mouthpiece, which he fitted across his face. He took a deep breath and felt the bitter taste of oxygen glide down his throat. Then the observer and three Romani companions dived into the lake, swimming down, down. They then came to a rock face, into which was dug a small tunnel. Through the tunnel they swam, until a huge cavern opened up, in the centre of which was a massive, glimmering underground city. Romis. The ancient city of the Romani. The Romani with him brought him to a small air chamber, where he was dried and cleaned. He then stepped into the massive open-air foyer of the city. He checked his kit, ensured the zonebug survived the trip, then made his way towards the Master's tower. The zonebug would ensure that whomever it belonged to found their way here too. Then they would understand....

Jarmen Kell and histwo goons blended into the crowded, oh so calmly and non-chalantly fleeing the scene. As planend, the bomb exploded in the hotel room, killing whoever was foolish enough to be near it. The explosion wasn't the only part of the bomb however. Just about now, the secondary effect should be taking place...

Rasing a hand, a small non-descript car pulled up to them, driven by a Procurement specialist of ELF. The three men climbed into the car as the chemical agent began to spread from their old hotel room...


The Anthrax Beta was an airborne variant of the popular Anthrax toxin. Once inhaled, the toxin would go to work immediately, rendering any who inhaled it immobile within seconds and then dead in a matter of hours. It was a very localized epidemic, and winds would cause the toxin cloud to dissipate after a while. Still, for the time it was effective, it was a very useful tool for spreading terror and panic...


Regroupingsome distance away, Jarmen Kell went about listing things he could use to incite riots and mass angry mobs. Anything recently passed by the government that caused any citizens distress would be at the top.



((OOC: Note, if your people are nationalistic or patrotic, then Jarmen's speaking probably won't spark armed riots. But if they aren't, then... Maybe. You decide. :D After my next post, I'm heading for bed, 'kay?))

" Evade! Evade! STA! STA! Captain....stinger alert! Move! Move! Move!"

The lieutenant was screaming at the captain to haul their collective asses out of there. Fortunately, the captain was not a stick-up-the-ass kind of officer who demanded proper rank protocal.

Capt. Laforge got their asses out of there. A stinger hissed by, and Laforge spun around, fired a missile-cluster, and the threat from below was removed.

"OK, Lieutenant, I want the vehicle that our people are on, and I want the others destroyed."

"Sir, they split up. The one we killed and one other were headed northwest. The other two were headed due east."

" So, it's east we go, Lt. Contact B-Stan authorities, advise them of our situation, and add that any help would be highly appreciated."

"Aye, sir."

If those captives are harmed in any way, only God would be able to help the terrorists.........the Duchess would have them skinned alive.......

Runar Mirnon, head of the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service, hung up the phone. He'd just been speaking to the President. For once, Mirnon was the one getting the intelligence from above, not vice versa.

Mirnon picked up the phone again and called Ila Noli and Hek Mulang into his office. Once they were sitting down he briefed them.

"I've just been on the phone with the President. Apparently a stealth plane from Elyria-Lorain was just airborne over the capital. It was running an operation authorised by the Duchess of the nation; just your stock-standard drop-in, check it out and go home. But they were running under the assumption that there'd been a terrorist attack in the city earlier this morning."
"How'd they get that idea?" Noli asked.
"I have no idea. But they also believed the Earth Liberation Front was responsible, and that twelve ELF men were here in Bynzekistan. I think we have to assume that the men in the Meroni are hostiles. There's no harm in bringing them in, asking them a few questions and searching their room."
Hek stirred. "But what about..."
"Human rights? Non-existent when it comes to suspected terrorists. Besides, if they haven't done anything wrong we'll pardon them and they'll be free to do what they want. See the sights, take some photos, screw some Larylen hookers, I don't give a shit. Just as long as they don't blow anything up or kill anyone. Hek, you're running point on the Meroni raid. Ila, do a complete check on the ELF. As much intel as you can get."

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

An hour later a five-man squad, dressed in full black fatigues, armed with automatic rifles, stormed through the door of the room booked in Yuseg Milandro's name. It was empty. The beds were made, the blinds closed. One of the men checked under the bed. Nothing.

Two of the men rushed out into the corridor and up through the fire escape onto the roof. It was clear. They went back down to rejoin their squad.

"Anything?"
"It's clean, sir. They must've cleared out not long after we were here. The concierge said he saw nothing. I don't know -"

At that moment a tremendous explosion tore through the room where the five-man squad was standing. A searing heat blasted outwards, shattering the windows, incinerating the blinds, and the resultant force flipped one of the mattresses up against the wall. Flames and debris shot out of the windows, showering the eastern part of Central Square in glass, splinters, paper and scraps of metal.

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

The observer brought his vehicle to a halt inside a small garage near a rundown shack a few kilometres east of the outskirts of Bynzek City, right on the coast. He took his kit and the zonebug and walked down to the water's edge, where a small speedboat was moored. Tossing his gear into the boat, he untied the ropes and hopped in. A few revs and the engine was going, and the observer steered the small boat southeast, through the northern isles of Nimolu, and a few hours later, he was at the southernmost port of the ancient ring-shaped island of Duvor.

From there he found a Romani transport bound for the huge bay in the centre of the island. The Romani people knew him, welcomed him. He had been good to them, and in return they had offered him sanctuary from his worldly troubles. The only condition was that he not bring those troubles here. Once at the edge of the lake, the observer was given a small mouthpiece, which he fitted across his face. He took a deep breath and felt the bitter taste of oxygen glide down his throat. Then the observer and three Romani companions dived into the lake, swimming down, down. They then came to a rock face, into which was dug a small tunnel. Through the tunnel they swam, until a huge cavern opened up, in the centre of which was a massive, glimmering underground city. Romis. The ancient city of the Romani. The Romani with him brought him to a small air chamber, where he was dried and cleaned. He then stepped into the massive open-air foyer of the city. He checked his kit, ensured the zonebug survived the trip, then made his way towards the Master's tower. The zonebug would ensure that whomever it belonged to found their way here too. Then they would understand....

ooc: very nice...good writing and a good imagination...this should be fun if we can keep it going

Jarmen Kell and histwo goons blended into the crowded, oh so calmly and non-chalantly fleeing the scene. As planend, the bomb exploded in the hotel room, killing whoever was foolish enough to be near it. The explosion wasn't the only part of the bomb however. Just about now, the secondary effect should be taking place...

Rasing a hand, a small non-descript car pulled up to them, driven by a Procurement specialist of ELF. The three men climbed into the car as the chemical agent began to spread from their old hotel room...


The Anthrax Beta was an airborne variant of the popular Anthrax toxin. Once inhaled, the toxin would go to work immediately, rendering any who inhaled it immobile within seconds and then dead in a matter of hours. It was a very localized epidemic, and winds would cause the toxin cloud to dissipate after a while. Still, for the time it was effective, it was a very useful tool for spreading terror and panic...


Regroupingsome distance away, Jarmen Kell went about listing things he could use to incite riots and mass angry mobs. Anything recently passed by the government that caused any citizens distress would be at the top.



((OOC: Note, if your people are nationalistic or patrotic, then Jarmen's speaking probably won't spark armed riots. But if they aren't, then... Maybe. You decide. :D After my next post, I'm heading for bed, 'kay?))

ooc: got a suggestion. how about we compile of the list of characters. who's who, where are they from, their title/function. these kind of threads/stories have a tendency to get confusing and bogged down when the writers have to keep referring back to the first few posts. especially helpful to any new players who may jump in down the road.

The Department of Defence Situation room hadn't been occupied in a very long time. For years it had lay like a snapshot frozen in time. Desks cluttered with reports, chairs left where they stopped rolling, whiteboards filled with information. Ever since Bynzekistan severely cut its military budget to focus more on diplomatic endeavours, the situation room just wasn't needed.

As the young man from the Archives department was flipping through some old documents in a side office, he barely noticed the huge double doors open on the other side of the cavernous space. He did, however, notice when the Minister of Defence and his staff flicked the lights on, started powering up systems and went to man the major workstations.

The Minister made his way over to the office where the Archives man was working.

"Sorry if we startled you, boy. You here on official business?"
"Yes, sir. Just grabbing some of the old situation reports made by your predecessor for the Archives."
"Fair enough, carry on."
"Thank you, sir."

The Archives man watched the Minister as he walked around the room and took his place on the control podium. He keyed a small microphone and tested it. His voice boomed around the vast space.

"Ladies and gentlemen. As you have been told, the Bynzeki government recently got a call for aid from a detachment of Elyria-Lorain troops in the woods to the east of the capital. Up until now, the President has been doing an admirable job trying to manage everything - but now he needs our help. Things are escalating, people. I need an operation set up as of a few minutes ago. Send a small force to the east to intercept the ATVs in the woods. I need a point man and a report man STAT. This can't be allowed to continue. All means necessary, folks. The Prez wants this taken care of. Go to work."

When the Minister glanced over into the side office, the Archives man blinked and went quickly back to work....

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

Though the military budget had been cut, Bynzekistan still had a sizable peacekeeping force in reserve. When situations had occurred earlier in the day, that force had been mobilised and had been awaiting orders.

The call had come through on a secure frequency from the old Situation Room, and Commander Eklon had taken the job. He'd taken 150 men, loaded 75 into three military helicopters and taken 75 with him in a large convoy of jeeps. Now they were thundering out of the city and out to the woods in the east.

Why 150 men, three helicopters and fifteen jeeps? The Prez wanted this taken care of, and fast. And they had Stingers.

The helicopters swooped round and came in from the east, cutting off escape. The ground troops barricaded the two ATVs in place some distance apart. Commander Eklon had orders to use only reasonable force, hopefully leaving the Rebels alive, and rescuing the Elyria-Lorain soldiers. He called for the Elyria-Lorain gunship to retreat to a safe distance, then moved in.

He hadn't, however, expected such an attack as he got. The first ATV, the one carrying the friendly troops, was taken easily. Sergeant Klapp and Corporal Renton were safe, and one ELF Rebel was in Bynzeki custody. The second ATV put up a hell of a fight. Three Stinger missiles were fired at the helicopters, and one chopper exploded in a ball of flame, all 25 of its occupants killed instantly. Machine gun fire brought one other helicopter to the ground, though its occupants spilled out, spewing forth automatic weapon fire and taking up positions surrounding the still-moving ATV. The last helicopter landed gently in the path of the speeding vehicle, which soon screeched to a halt. Standing in the side of the chopper was a Bynzeki officer, his right eye glaring down the barrel of a rocket launcher. Commander Eklon's jeep soon sped up behind the stopped ATV. Eklon took out his favourite small pistol and leveled it at the ELF man's head.

"I am Commander Eklon of the Bynzekistan Military. Step out of and away from the vehicle and get your hands up. MOVE!"

Quick as a flash, the ELF man snatched up an odd-looking weapon and sprayed three nearby soldiers with it. Cancerous blotches broke out instantly over their skin and they fell to the ground in squeals of agony.

The Rebel, however, didn't get a chance to fire again. A bullet from Eklon's pistol tore through his left shoulder. He yelped in pain and fell to the ground. A young officer ran over, bent down and felt his pulse.

"He's still alive, sir. Barely."
"Get him patched up and then let's wrap this thing up. Take the Elyria-Lorain soldiers to a medic, then send them on to the Admin Quarter. Take this guy and his friend to BIS headquarters. No doubt they'll have some questions to ask them."

The Elyria-Lorain gunship had landed nearby, and Captain Laforge rushed up to greet Commander Eklon. His troops went over and mingled with the Bynzeki soldiers.

"Captain Laforge of Elyria-Lorain."
"Commander Eklon of Bynzekistan, good to meet you."
"Nice of you guys to drop by - you took your time." The man grinned.
"We do what we can. And better late than never." Eklon laughed and the men walked back to rejoin their troops.

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

(( OOC: Sorry, Gnufasur :). Hope you don't mind, but I think the woods thing needed wrapping up. Note I didn't kill any of your men, but have them in custody. And you've still got your other blokes scattered around everywhere. I also thought Bynschev needed a bit of progress. He tends to get angry otherwise. ;) ))

ooc: got a suggestion. how about we compile of the list of characters. who's who, where are they from, their title/function. these kind of threads/stories have a tendency to get confusing and bogged down when the writers have to keep referring back to the first few posts. especially helpful to any new players who may jump in down the road.

(( OOC: Sounds like an awesome idea. If we could arrange some way to get that info to me out of this thread, perhaps by starting a new one or if you want to PM me via forums or telegram my nation, then I'll edit the top thread with that kind of stuff.

And yes, this is starting to be very good; confusion would do well to be averted! :) ))

Laforge and Eklon trotted over to the Lorainian soldiers. Renton was in bad shape. Burns over 40% of his body, shrapnel embedded in his back and legs.

" Commander, can we get these guys to a hospital? Time is of the essense for the corporal here."

Eklon gestured to one of the choppers. A medic ran over, did a preliminary check, and shouted for assistance. They had Renton on a stretcher and in the chopper in less than a minute, and off they went.

" How you doing, seargent? Need a ride to the ER?"

Klapp swallowed a crude, sarcastic answer. " Not right now sir. I want a word with these assholes who shot us down and hijacked us."

Eklon grinned. " Translation: what you want to do is throw them a severe beating. You'll get the full results of our 'interrogation' when completed."

" Then I can beat the shit out of them, right?"

" I'll see what I can arrange, Seargent. For right now, you need medical attention. Get you ass over to that chopper for transport."

Klapp eyed him for a few seconds, then saluted. "Yessir".

________________________________________________________________

Eklon turned to Laforge. " Good man, there. Veteran?"

"Yeah. An officer in the old Confederation. A survivor. Listen, Commander, we need to know where the info we received came from, and where communication broke down. We lost 10 good men. Someone has to answer for it."

Eklon wondered how much he should tell him. He didn't know much himself, but obviously someone had fed the EL authorities some errant information.

" Captain, we have people checking all aspects of this situation. How you heard about the explosions is of prime interest to us. We reported it to no one, and the media was put into immediate lockdown on the situation. It appears that you received the info from a source hostile to both EL and B-Stan."

Laforge mulled thhis over. " The Duchess needs to know ASAP. Can you arrange it, Commander?"

Eklon gestured, "This way, Captain......................."

((OOC: Whatever happens, keep me in the loop. :P I'll have my agents info up and ready whenever you need them.))

I think a simple TG would be the most effective. Each of us can send it's info, and if B-Stan wants to add it as an OOC post, thats fine w/me.

The Blue Slynex RP - Cast of Characters

d'Avignon-Elyrie, Priscilla - Duchess of Elyria-Lorain
Bynschev, Georgi - President of Bynzekistan
Eklon, Delor - Commander, Detachment 493 of the Bynzekistan Reserve Peacekeeping Force
Forest, Azumi - Gnufasurian Special Foriegn Liason
Kell, Jarmen - E.L.F. Speaker Agent, Primary Bynzekistan Cell Leader
Klapp - Sergeant, Hawk Reconnaissance Response Team, Elyria-Lorain Military
LaForge - Captain, Hawk Reconnaissance Response Team, Elyria-Lorain Military
Linsay, Rei - EHAV Mercenary, Azumi Forest's Translator/bodyguard, Gnufasur
Marcina, Diron - Manager & Licensee of the Meroni Hotel, Bynzek City
Merek, Olim - Air Traffic Controller, Air Traffic Surveillance Liaison to the Bynzekistan Space Agency and the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service
Mirnon, Runar - Director, Bynzekistan Intelligence Service
Mulang, Hek - Technician, Bynzekistan Intelligence Service
Noli, Ila - Technician, Bynzekistan Intelligence Service
Taioh, Kassad - E.L.F. Speaker Agent, Supply Cell Leader

To have your characters added, or make suggestions for other sections (eg. locations, buildings, vehicles, statistics, casualties, or any others you can think of), telegram Bynzekistan or email me. This would be best to minimise OOC clutter. Cheers!

((OOC: Something big is happening in my life, and I probably won't be available for a long time. I don't know when I'll be back again. So, I'm dropping from this RP. Feel free to ret-con my actions or what have you. Sorry.))

The Department of Defence Situation Room in Bynzek City was abuzz once more. It had been a few hours since the ELF Scout Force had been overthrown, and authority had come from the President to get the Defence Department back on track. The Department would be working tandem with the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service, and would be directing orders to a large proportion of the Bynzekistan Reserve Peacekeeping Force.

In an office adjoining the Situation Room, Bynzeki Minister for Defence Korad Renua sat behind his desk, facing his chief advisor and personal aide Dalor Mavloc and a television screen displaying a live feed from the President's office. They had been discussing the past few hours' events, specifically the rescued soldiers from Elyria-Lorain and the captured ELF Scouts.

"How are the Elyrians doing, Renua?" President Bynschev asked.
"Last I heard Sergeant Klapp was fast asleep, doped up to the eyeballs on painkillers and stable. Corporal Renton has just come out of surgery. He was beat up pretty bad, and is still critical, but the docs reckon he'll pull through."
"That's good news. I'll contact the Duchess myself and pass that on. Now, what about these ELF people? What's the latest there?"
Dalor Mavloc flicked through his papers. "They're being held over at BIS headquarters," he said. "They weren't talking at first, but they've been deprived of sleep, food and water, and the sound overload process is playing hell with their brains. It won't be long and we'll have some reliable leads."
"Okay," the President said calmly. "Be careful, though. Remember, no truth serum. I just illegalised torture, and technically vitality deprivation falls under that category. But just be careful."
"Yes, Mr. President," Mavloc replied.
"Keep me posted," the President said, and the screen went blank.

Korad Renua and Dalor Mavloc stacked their papers and walked back out into the busy Situation Room.

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

The observer ascended the long staircase to the Master's Chambers. The walls of the staircase were transparent, and the seafloor stretched for kilometres in all directions. As he looked out, an ilior eel drifted slowly by, and a school of ranur fish passed off in the distance.

The Master of the Romani people resided in a series of bubble-like chambers that branched off from the city proper. The staircase leading to the chambers was over two kilometres long. At the end of the staircase, a massive, cavernous foyer opened up, at the far side of which was a massive wooden doorway. Romani legend states that this doorway was made from the wood of the very first Tree of Life. It was intricately carved with arcane symbols and bizarre reliefs. Some say the entire Romani history is carved in the door, and as more history is made, it simply appears on the door as it happens.

The two Romani accompanying the observer wandered slowly up to the door and rapped sharply three times on its lower panel. After a few seconds, the door creaked and parted slightly. Out walked a tall, thin man in a flowing purple and green robe. He was very old, though he walked nimbly. When he reached the observer, he extended his hands.

"My old friend," the Master said as he embraced the observer. "It's been a long time."
"A long time for me, Master, but not so much for you."
The Master smiled. "Yes, perhaps. Everything is relative, as they say. Please, come in."

The Master's Chamber was enormous. Ladders led up to loft libraries, small tunnels led down into storage bubbles, catwalks criss-crossed the upper levels, meeting rooms branched off into offices.

The Master sat the observer down and gave him some pale Romani wine. But as he began to walk back to his own chair, he stopped suddenly, and turned.

The observer looked up. "What is it, Master?"
The Master looked the observer up and down. "What have you done? I feel something... foreign. What have you brought here?"
The observer took the zonebug out of his pocket and set it on the table. "You're referring to this," he said, pointing.
"It's a tracking device," the Master accused, acid in his voice. "You've betrayed my people!"
"Master!" the observer yelled, hurt. "I would never do that, and you know it! You remember our discussions? Your people are losing faith. Faith in you, faith in the world, faith in the water, faith in the Tree! This," he said, holding up the zonebug, "This can change that. This belongs to a government that believes in sovereignty, in unity, in the things we hold dear."
"But the Bynzekistan government already holds these things dear," the Master argued.
"I agree," the observer said. "But not in relation to us. They cut ties with the outlying remnants of the ancient Tolacor races, leaving you free to live life by yourselves. But your people are too easily influenced. They have lost faith. The only way to give them faith is to have the government that this tracker came from come to Romis. See your people. See you. And make the Bynzeki government see that you need them."
The Master sat down. "I'm sorry, my friend. I underestimated you, again."
The observer reached over and put his hand on the old man's. "It's okay. You're weary, I know. But you have strength. Enormous strength. And the Supreme Council will see that. And we will be saved."

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

(( OOC: Sorry to see you leave, Gnufasur. I really hope whatever has come up is resolved quickly and you'll be back soon. All the best :) ))

The Department of Defence Situation Room in Bynzek City was abuzz once more. It had been a few hours since the ELF Scout Force had been overthrown, and authority had come from the President to get the Defence Department back on track. The Department would be working tandem with the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service, and would be directing orders to a large proportion of the Bynzekistan Reserve Peacekeeping Force.

In an office adjoining the Situation Room, Bynzeki Minister for Defence Korad Renua sat behind his desk, facing his chief advisor and personal aide Dalor Mavloc and a television screen displaying a live feed from the President's office. They had been discussing the past few hours' events, specifically the rescued soldiers from Elyria-Lorain and the captured ELF Scouts.

"How are the Elyrians doing, Renua?" President Bynschev asked.
"Last I heard Sergeant Klapp was fast asleep, doped up to the eyeballs on painkillers and stable. Corporal Renton has just come out of surgery. He was beat up pretty bad, and is still critical, but the docs reckon he'll pull through."
"That's good news. I'll contact the Duchess myself and pass that on. Now, what about these ELF people? What's the latest there?"
Dalor Mavloc flicked through his papers. "They're being held over at BIS headquarters," he said. "They weren't talking at first, but they've been deprived of sleep, food and water, and the sound overload process is playing hell with their brains. It won't be long and we'll have some reliable leads."
"Okay," the President said calmly. "Be careful, though. Remember, no truth serum. I just illegalised torture, and technically vitality deprivation falls under that category. But just be careful."
"Yes, Mr. President," Mavloc replied.
"Keep me posted," the President said, and the screen went blank.

Korad Renua and Dalor Mavloc stacked their papers and walked back out into the busy Situation Room.

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

The observer ascended the long staircase to the Master's Chambers. The walls of the staircase were transparent, and the seafloor stretched for kilometres in all directions. As he looked out, an ilior eel drifted slowly by, and a school of ranur fish passed off in the distance.

The Master of the Romani people resided in a series of bubble-like chambers that branched off from the city proper. The staircase leading to the chambers was over two kilometres long. At the end of the staircase, a massive, cavernous foyer opened up, at the far side of which was a massive wooden doorway. Romani legend states that this doorway was made from the wood of the very first Tree of Life. It was intricately carved with arcane symbols and bizarre reliefs. Some say the entire Romani history is carved in the door, and as more history is made, it simply appears on the door as it happens.

The two Romani accompanying the observer wandered slowly up to the door and rapped sharply three times on its lower panel. After a few seconds, the door creaked and parted slightly. Out walked a tall, thin man in a flowing purple and green robe. He was very old, though he walked nimbly. When he reached the observer, he extended his hands.

"My old friend," the Master said as he embraced the observer. "It's been a long time."
"A long time for me, Master, but not so much for you."
The Master smiled. "Yes, perhaps. Everything is relative, as they say. Please, come in."

The Master's Chamber was enormous. Ladders led up to loft libraries, small tunnels led down into storage bubbles, catwalks criss-crossed the upper levels, meeting rooms branched off into offices.

The Master sat the observer down and gave him some pale Romani wine. But as he began to walk back to his own chair, he stopped suddenly, and turned.

The observer looked up. "What is it, Master?"
The Master looked the observer up and down. "What have you done? I feel something... foreign. What have you brought here?"
The observer took the zonebug out of his pocket and set it on the table. "You're referring to this," he said, pointing.
"It's a tracking device," the Master accused, acid in his voice. "You've betrayed my people!"
"Master!" the observer yelled, hurt. "I would never do that, and you know it! You remember our discussions? Your people are losing faith. Faith in you, faith in the world, faith in the water, faith in the Tree! This," he said, holding up the zonebug, "This can change that. This belongs to a government that believes in sovereignty, in unity, in the things we hold dear."
"But the Bynzekistan government already holds these things dear," the Master argued.
"I agree," the observer said. "But not in relation to us. They cut ties with the outlying remnants of the ancient Tolacor races, leaving you free to live life by yourselves. But your people are too easily influenced. They have lost faith. The only way to give them faith is to have the government that this tracker came from come to Romis. See your people. See you. And make the Bynzeki government see that you need them."
The Master sat down. "I'm sorry, my friend. I underestimated you, again."
The observer reached over and put his hand on the old man's. "It's okay. You're weary, I know. But you have strength. Enormous strength. And the Supreme Council will see that. And we will be saved."

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

(( OOC: Sorry to see you leave, Gnufasur. I really hope whatever has come up is resolved quickly and you'll be back soon. All the best :) ))


ooc: hey, sorry to be a pain in the ass, but the zonebug came from Sgt. Klapp (see post #18). Just want to keep the story as accurate as possible.

ooc: hey, sorry to be a pain in the ass, but the zonebug came from Sgt. Klapp (see post #18). Just want to keep the story as accurate as possible.

(( OOC: I know... but won't the Elyria-Lorain government be sending people to come looking for it?

Captain Laforge hit the triangulation button on the console and the screen immediately found the zonebug. Problem was, it was headed south at a pace that told him it wasn't a man walking in that direction.

Am I right in assuming that the Elyria-Lorain government and military are somewhat running in tandem? I'll change it if you like, but I was just running on those assumptions. And don't worry about being a pain in the ass, I'm a stickler for narrative continuity too ;) ))

(( OOC: I know... but won't the Elyria-Lorain government be sending people to come looking for it?



Am I right in assuming that the Elyria-Lorain government and military are somewhat running in tandem? I'll change it if you like, but I was just running on those assumptions. And don't worry about being a pain in the ass, I'm a stickler for narrative continuity too ;) ))

In the narrative, you state that "this (the zonebug) came from a government ...." and claim that govt is B-Stan, but it came from EL. Yes we eventually will trace it, but thats gonna be a ways down the road. I'm working on a fairly involved story in another thread, and in RL, Mom's in the hospital. So going to put the undersea/Romani thing on a little bit of a back burner.
Yes, the EL govt and the military work hand in hand.

The thing about fanatics, is that the true believers would die first before betraying their Brothers. Already, two of the E.L.F. Rebels had bitten off their tongues, effectively muting themselves. The third and fourth were ready to die, knowing that for their actions in this life, they'd be rewarded in the afterlife with many treasures and 'bountiful' women. They made this fact well known, letting their captors know that while they (As in the E.L.F. members) would be rewarded in the after-life, they (As in the B-stan interrogators) would suffer for all eternity.

Although the 'Toxin' Rebel (The one with the Industerial Waste) was completely delirious by now. He was constently muttering things, something about EHAV, Super Guns, chemical weapons of mass destruction, and each topic seemed to center around Gnufasur. If his non-sensical ramblings were accurate, it seemed that there might be another chemical attack coming from Gnufasur via their newly constructed Super Gun, and that EHAV was in on it. Of course, to anyone familiar with Gnufasurian culture, it didn't wouldn't make a lick of sense, forward or backwards... But, Gnufasur was such a private and secretive nation that few were truely familiar with their culture...


~~~~~~~~~~

Jarmen took a seat, looking over the features of the man in front of him. "Kassad, we meet again." He spoke. They were surrounded on all sides by armed E.L.F. rebels. The meeting was taking place at a seedy motel, the kind where cash can and often replaces IDs. The window's curtains were drawn shut tightly, and outside the door a casual looking Rebel leaned against the wall, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious. He was armed too, but his weapons were concealed under his brown trenchcoat.

The fellow E.L.F. agent adjusted his glasses casually. "Yes. It is a glorious day. If all is going as planned, my agent will already be planting the idea that Gnufasur is to attack Bynzekistan. At worst, this will cause distrust. At best, Bynzekistan will launch a pre-emptive strike, and war will erupt between the two nations."

Jarmen smirked. "Yes, we can only pray that the devils will take the bait and attack."

"Come Brother. We have much planning to do if war is to erupt."


((OOC: Diaster was avoided. I'm back, and I'm here to stay. Hope this helps brings in my own nation. :D))

The thing about fanatics, is that the true believers would die first before betraying their Brothers. Already, two of the E.L.F. Rebels had bitten off their tongues, effectively muting themselves. The third and fourth were ready to die, knowing that for their actions in this life, they'd be rewarded in the afterlife with many treasures and 'bountiful' women. They made this fact well known, letting their captors know that while they (As in the E.L.F. members) would be rewarded in the after-life, they (As in the B-stan interrogators) would suffer for all eternity.

Although the 'Toxin' Rebel (The one with the Industerial Waste) was completely delirious by now. He was constently muttering things, something about EHAV, Super Guns, chemical weapons of mass destruction, and each topic seemed to center around Gnufasur. If his non-sensical ramblings were accurate, it seemed that there might be another chemical attack coming from Gnufasur via their newly constructed Super Gun, and that EHAV was in on it. Of course, to anyone familiar with Gnufasurian culture, it didn't wouldn't make a lick of sense, forward or backwards... But, Gnufasur was such a private and secretive nation that few were truely familiar with their culture...


~~~~~~~~~~

Jarmen took a seat, looking over the features of the man in front of him. "Kassad, we meet again." He spoke. They were surrounded on all sides by armed E.L.F. rebels. The meeting was taking place at a seedy motel, the kind where cash can and often replaces IDs. The window's curtains were drawn shut tightly, and outside the door a casual looking Rebel leaned against the wall, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious. He was armed too, but his weapons were concealed under his brown trenchcoat.

The fellow E.L.F. agent adjusted his glasses casually. "Yes. It is a glorious day. If all is going as planned, my agent will already be planting the idea that Gnufasur is to attack Bynzekistan. At worst, this will cause distrust. At best, Bynzekistan will launch a pre-emptive strike, and war will erupt between the two nations."

Jarmen smirked. "Yes, we can only pray that the devils will take the bait and attack."

"Come Brother. We have much planning to do if war is to erupt."


((OOC: Diaster was avoided. I'm back, and I'm here to stay. Hope this helps brings in my own nation. :D))


ooc: welcome back....glad everything worked out.

OOC: Whew that took a while to read the whole thread. But definetly a great rp going on here. I'll join in, but first could the sniper escape on an airplane to Bravendore, which would drag us into this?

"This belongs to a government that believes in sovereignty, in unity, in the things we hold dear."
"But the Bynzekistan government already holds these things dear," the Master argued.

(( OOC: Sorry about the mixup... The observer is speaking about the EL government here. The Master believes the B-Stan government is doing what it can to help the Romani, but the observer thinks B-Stan isn't doing enough. Later I'll allude to a huge amount of research carried out by the observer. And it's cool if you want to leave this thing alone. It could even become a new story further down the track. I just thought it was a new aspect to the story is all.

Does it make sense now? Even a little? ))

OOC: Whew that took a while to read the whole thread. But definetly a great rp going on here. I'll join in, but first could the sniper escape on an airplane to Bravendore, which would drag us into this?

(( OOC: No worries at all! :) Apart from capping the spy in Central Square the sniper really hasn't done much at all. He's probably just been popping shots in a bar somewhere for all we know... ))

((OOC: Diaster was avoided. I'm back, and I'm here to stay. Hope this helps brings in my own nation. :D))

(( OOC: Yes, jolly good to have you back. And I'm liking this misinformation war thingo. Should be fun! Very happy for you that everything worked out ok.
I have some stuff to do for most of this afternoon my time, but I'll post tonight when I get a chance... ))

OOC: Hi all... My nation is relatively new (56 mil) but I think it would like to have relations with a number of countries... particularily large ones like Bynzekistan.

After deciding that it was time for an improvement in their diplomatic relations with a number of major nations. The Balazonian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade (DFAT)'s Diplomatic Corp had decided that Bynzekistan would be the next potential site for a Bazalonian Embassy. The head of the Corp, Sir Richard Menazse followed by a number of high ranking officials in the Bazalonian Government had called their Bynzekistani equivalents and organised a meeting to discuss the proposal of diplomatic links between the two nations.

The Bazalonian delegation was now on their way travelling in a government plane to the nation Bynzekistan, hopes where high about the benefits of such a diplomatic link could be.

(OOC: You are welcome to involve the plane in an incident if you want)

Olim Merek sat glued to the screen as various aircraft scooted across Bynzeki airspace.

In order to avoid mass panic, the President had initiated a secret internal lockdown nicknamed "Force Field". To the outside world, everything appeared absolutely normal. Most government departments operated as normal too. With the exception of the Bynzekistan Space Agency, Bynzekistan Intelligence Service and the President and entourage. These three groups were frenetic with activity.

Also, the sphere of air over Bynzek City remained open as though nothing was amiss. As such, passenger liners, business jets and regional aircraft made their way across the skies, all tracked by Bynzek City Air Traffic Control Center.

Olim Merek watched as a small, diplomatic jet made its way across the screen, and was cleared to land at Bynzekistan International Airport. Its tail signature comprised the Bazalonian flag and the callsign BZL-01. Whoever these people were, they were high up.

Merek picked up the phone and dialled the Foreign Affairs Ministry. The Minister himself, Linoc Duvaron, answered the phone.

"Linoc Duvaron?"
"Hello, Mr. Duvaron. My name is Olim Merek, from BCATC. We have a diplomatic jet from Bazalonia grounded at BIA. Please advise further action, if you don't mind."
"Not at all, Mr. Merek. I have clearance from the leader of Bazalonia myself. The occupant of the plane is one R. Menasze. He is to be driven to the President's building at once."
"Yes, sir."

(( OOC: Sorry about the mixup... The observer is speaking about the EL government here. The Master believes the B-Stan government is doing what it can to help the Romani, but the observer thinks B-Stan isn't doing enough. Later I'll allude to a huge amount of research carried out by the observer. And it's cool if you want to leave this thing alone. It could even become a new story further down the track. I just thought it was a new aspect to the story is all.

Does it make sense now? Even a little? ))


ooc: yes, I simply misunderstood the context. Thanks.

ooc: yes, I simply misunderstood the context. Thanks.

(( OOC: No probs :) ))

A man in a dark trenchcoat made his way out of the bar and into the driving rain. He'd been in the bar for the past six hours, sitting in a corner knocking back whiskey and watching the news. No matter how blurred his vision got, how numb his mind became, he never once opened his mouth. The only active part of his mind knew to keep his mouth firmly closed. He couldn't tell anyone.

Once the clock above the poker machines clicked on 2:15pm, the man rose slowly, and picked up a long wooden case. He dropped a few zekis on the bar, winked at the cute, shapely barwoman and stumbled out into the street. Once out on the footpath he fished around in the trenchcoat and brought out a crumpled international plane ticket. The destination was the capital city of Bravendore....

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

Twenty-two hours later, the man was awoken by the thud of the plane's tyres on the smooth tarmac of the runway. Due to the time difference, it was 9:40 at night. A bright neon sign atop the international terminal read "WELCOME TO BRAVENDORE".

He'd made it. He'd gotten out. He was free....

The Customs officer looked over the Bynzek man. Glancing again at the paper work he scanned the man's ID on the computer screen. It flashed up all of the general info needed about the man.

Name: Mylo Gorbachav
Occupation: Real Estate Developer
Age: 36
Height:6' 2"
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Distinction:Hispanic
History: Mylo has been a very successful Real Estate Developer in Bynzekistan over the past 10 years. He has no criminal record, although he is known for his favorite hobby of shooting on the range when he has days off.
Clearance to pass Customs: Yes

"You're name is Mylo Gorbachav, correct?"
"Yes, sir." The man replied though he glanced down at his feet, seemingly interested in his shoes.
"And you're occupation?"
"Real Estate Developer."
"And what is your purpose of coming to Bravendore?"
"I've come to expand my business from Bynzekistan, to Bravendore. I'm working with a Mr. George Sullivan, the CEO of Galactika Corporation."
"Ah, truely? Then you must be quite busy to have talks with Mr. Sullivan. One last question though, do you have anything to declare from Bynzekistan?"
"No, sir. I only have what's in my bags, clothes, ID, food. That sort of thing."
"Very, well, have a great stay in Bravendore."
"Thank you."

Mylo walked away with his bags lagging on behind him. He turned into the crowd of passengers and disappeared from view. The Customs officer grabbed a phone from under the desk and dialed a secure line to the BIA [Bravendore Intelligence Agency], an angry voice answered the phone.

"What is it now, Green? A terrorist alert like last time? Or perhaps there's a bomb in the Chancellor's car?"
"Sir, I believe we have someone of interest staying in Bravendore. A Mylo Gorbachav just came in five minutes ago, it appears he was a successful Real Estate Developer in Bynzekistan. He appeared to be slightly nervous when I questioned him. Nothing too mysterious but because of that "message" from Bynzekistan, he may be our man."
"Sure and Osama Bin Laden came too right? We'll have a Grade C check on him, but according to our records already he owns a house in Upper Belarou and is opening a business sometime next month. He's working closely with Mr. Sullivan, it's unlikely anything suspicious comes from this. But just to appease your curiousity we'll do a background check. Now focus on your job adn just let the damn Bynzeks through Customs!!"

The phone clicked off. Green slammed it down angrily and walked out of customs. He was going to take a vacation, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Gorbachav had something more sinister than anyone else would think. He was going to follow him.

They'd been at it all day and half the night. The zonebug that Sgt. Klapp had lost on the day that the EL Hawk/Recon troopers were decimated, had taken off in the opposite direction.

The Trackers couldn't say exactly how the bug got to where it is, but they knew it had been done purposefully. The zonebug had travelled southwest for about 40 miles, and then headed down for about a mile. Yes....DOWN. The Trackers could readily see that the bug had sank, or been carried, a little over a mile straight down through a large body of water. They triangulated and pinpointed the actual resting place of the bug, but according to all readings, there was nothing there but the bug.

Very peculiar, to say the least.

The Duchess thought so, too. " Gentlemen, I want to know where that device is. And I want to know quickly. Send divers, mini-subs, whatever you have to in order to find that bug. I sense something is more than a little bit amiss."

"Yes, Your Grace. At once."

Mr Menasze had been briefed about what to expect of the Bynzekistani Airspace and landing at the airport by the Prime Minister of Bazalonia. This could be so important for Bazalonia's future. However the recent terrorist activity just made his job so much more difficult.

Once the plane had landed, and the stairs leading down from the exit hatch to the tarmac, the diplomatic enterage(sp?) left the plane, flanked by a contingent of Federal Police of Bazalonia, their only job was to provide security for the contingent between taking off from Bazalonia to once they where inside the transportation that the Bynzekistani governement had sent for them.

The Bynzekistani car drove them to their first meeting, a middle ranking public servant, who dealt with all the logistic issues and security matters before their meeting with the head of their Equivalent of DFAT.

Mylo waited nervously in the foyer of Galactika Corporation. He glanced around the lobby with mild interest, finally the attendant called his name.

"Mr. Gorbachav, Mr. Sullivan is ready to see you."

He nodded in appreciation at the attendant and walked into the office. Mr. Sullivan was standing at the tinted window, gazing out over the vast reaches of Belarou. It was an awkward moment and Mylo just stood in front of the door, seemingly petrified. Finally, George, turned away from the window and motioned for Mylo to sit down. Mylo walked over to the desk and pulled up the oaken made chair.

"So, Mylo, what have you been up to lately?"
"Not too much, it's Thanksgiving weekend you know and I don't have any family to go to so I've just been settling in at my new house."
"Very good, now to get to business. Exactly what is your experience as a real estate developer?"
"I was very successful in Bynzekistan, I owned my own corporation. We made quite a few blockbluster deals to say the least. However, because our stock was at the highest in decade, I decided to sell my stock and start again. So I came here. Though what I'm interested in is why you're interested in me, than when I never said anything about my past experiences as a developer."
"I'm not really interested in your "Real Estate Business" I brought you here for one reason and one reason only, I need a sniper."
"What for?"
"I need someone to cap Chancellor Cane during her flight next week to Bynzekistan. We tapped all the telegraph wires, it appears she's traveling to Bynzekistan next week. I want her dead before she gets on that plane, got it?"
"How much am I getting paid?"
"2 million Bravendos."
"Very, well, but I'll need connections not to worry I have them all right here..."

Priscilla prevailed upon Lord Sethanis to provide the divers in an attempt to locate the zonebug. The Black Shadow AquaRecon Team were the best in the business, but even they could'nt go any deeper than a few hundred feet.

They hit upon the idea to send a probe down, a probe that could send back information about the undersea topography. Then, AI Aquatic Units would be sent down to ascertain just exactly where the bug had gone.


What they would find would be surprising, to say the least......

Runar Mirnon hung up the phone - he'd just been talking to dispatch. Ila Noli had called him a few minutes beforehand with a lead from Bravendore. A customs officer from Bravendore Airport had called the government switchboard on his mobile phone, and had been patched through to the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service. Ila had taken the call. Apparently the officer, a man named Green, had been tailing a suspicious character - who flew into Bravendore from Bynzekistan - for a few hours, and had spotted him enter the main headquarters of the Galactika Corporation.

It was a small lead, but at the moment any lead was worth following up. Mirnon had dispatched one transport with a twelve-man squad, led by a Special Agent. The last he'd heard they had just touched down in the Bravendore capital....

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

A tall, slender and beautiful Romani woman gracefully lifted a hand to her ear, where a small, organic earpiece hummed softly in fluent Liranocuni. As she listened patiently to the report, she looked up from her chair into the vast expanse of water surrounding the ancient city of Romis. As the report finished, she spotted a small shape coming towards the city. It had a lone flashlight, its beam crisscrossing the ocean floor.

The beam lifted off the floor, and found the city. And stopped. The whole craft stopped moving. To Menia, the Romani woman, it looked as though the small shape was in shock. Then, slowly, cautiously, the craft continued towards the city, its flashlight beam spanning the walls and shapes and bubbles. The craft came to rest on the huge gangplank leading into the city. Menia knew the craft was a probe, as it was far too small to hold any person.

She wondered why it had come....

After the day's meetings finished.. they where just mainly an introductory get to know you, sort of thing. The members of the diplomatic entourage went to the hotel they would be staying at. They where already checked in and lugage was in their rooms....

The car used by Sir Richard pulled up outside the hotel the Bazalonian Diplomatic Entourage, First to exit was Sir Richard himself, followed by 3 others. First was Peter Hanlin, Sir Richard's Senior Aide, Secondly was Ms. Emma Gould, A senior ranking Public servant in DFAT and Jacque Dane, a covert security officer, that was pretending to be another Senior, though less knowledgable public servant in DFAT. The four of them entered into the Hotel's lobby and then went straight up to the room booked for them designated their 'office'...

Sir Richard immeadiately went and collapsed on the lounge in front of the TV's blank screen... "Well", he said... "That was a good start to this mission... though we still have alot more to do.."

Emma replied... "Yes, it was wasn't it? Just reminder we have a big day tomorrow.. we still have a few things to go over before tomorrow..."

Peter scoffed at Emma... "Let us have some time off at least before getting back to work, it has been a long day." As he plonked himself next to Sir Richard, "Let's se what's on Bynzekistani news...." he said to no one in particular.

He picked up the remote that was lying on the stand next to the lounge, turned the TV on and flipped through the channels looking for some news...
Then he found it... in fact he found more than he bargained for...

The headline of the current story was "Terrorist Links to Bazalonia?"
All four people in that room immeadiately tensed and listened to the story with intense....

"We have exclusive reports.... do the recent Terrorist attacks link back to Bazalonia? ... A diplomatic mission is currently in Bynzekistan... our sources say that there was a suspecious man leaving on a plane to Bazalonia the day of the last terrorist attack...... Is the diplomatic mission a smokescreen?..."

The story continued with many unsubstaintiated claims that suggested Bazalonia was linked to the attacks... Bazalonia wasn't, as far as Richard knew... He needed some more information. He pulled out his secure phone, plugged it into the hotel's phone system and securely dialed, Bazalonia Security, Intelligence and Protection, the organisation devoted to keeping Government officials, sae, able to communicate in a safe and private manner back to head quarters when in a foreign country... also had the duty of being the nations major spy/intelligence organisation.

"This is Yellow Delta One, passcode Delta Six Uniform Two India Tango Mike Foxtrot Foxtrot Golf. Check if any Blue Yankee Five have entered or left Bynzekistan over the last 3 months...."

There was a pause while the information was being sought...

"None" was the only reply that Sir Richard got. He hung up and disconnected the phone from the hotel's phone system. "Well... no one on our Terrorist Watch list has been in Bynzekistan recently." He said to the room... We need to deal with this... both diplomatically and in the media, Emma, start writing a press release... and organise me an interview with the news crew... I'll have to talk with someone in the Bynzekistani government directly about this....

(OOC: I wanted to link my story with the Terrorists... btw... I have plans for this story... ALSO just to let you know NO ONE in Bazalonia IS involved with the terrorists, just some person said this and the news grabbed it an run with it without checking the facts...)

Runar Mirnon hung up the phone - he'd just been talking to dispatch. Ila Noli had called him a few minutes beforehand with a lead from Bravendore. A customs officer from Bravendore Airport had called the government switchboard on his mobile phone, and had been patched through to the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service. Ila had taken the call. Apparently the officer, a man named Green, had been tailing a suspicious character - who flew into Bravendore from Bynzekistan - for a few hours, and had spotted him enter the main headquarters of the Galactika Corporation.

It was a small lead, but at the moment any lead was worth following up. Mirnon had dispatched one transport with a twelve-man squad, led by a Special Agent. The last he'd heard they had just touched down in the Bravendore capital....

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

A tall, slender and beautiful Romani woman gracefully lifted a hand to her ear, where a small, organic earpiece hummed softly in fluent Liranocuni. As she listened patiently to the report, she looked up from her chair into the vast expanse of water surrounding the ancient city of Romis. As the report finished, she spotted a small shape coming towards the city. It had a lone flashlight, its beam crisscrossing the ocean floor.

The beam lifted off the floor, and found the city. And stopped. The whole craft stopped moving. To Menia, the Romani woman, it looked as though the small shape was in shock. Then, slowly, cautiously, the craft continued towards the city, its flashlight beam spanning the walls and shapes and bubbles. The craft came to rest on the huge gangplank leading into the city. Menia knew the craft was a probe, as it was far too small to hold any person.

She wondered why it had come....



" M'lady, the probe has stopped it's descent. It's apparently found something."

The probe had been provided to her by Lord Sethanis, of The Black Shadows, a Xeraphian subject-nation. And as such, it was state-of-the-art. It was sent to find the whereabouts of the zonebug that Sgt. Klapp had lost in the firefight. It found it, alright......

As the images were relayed back to ShadowStealth HQ, they were more and more not believing what they were seeing. A city, not all that large, was down there. An underwater city. A long-undetected underwater city. Priscilla was completely baffled, but Sethanis had a hunch.

" M'lady, what we are looking at is one of two things. Atlantis, or a colony of that lost civilization."

Atlantis?, she thought. Was he nuts? " M'lord, Atlantis is a myth. Everyone knows that."

Sethanis whirled around in his chair. " Most myths have a source of truth, m'lady. Atlantis is no different. Stories have to start somewhere, and the Emperor has been studying and exploring some of these myths for many years. What we've found is nothing less than astonishing."

The Duchess was intrigued. " Do tell, m'Lord Sethanis......."

The Emperor stood looking out his window at the frost covered Zust city of Drunel Afternoon sun glowing off the buildings. "That's not very funny, December." the emperor said turning around slowly to face a man dressed in black. "Ahh You still have your uncanny Sixth sense, Are you sure you were never an Imperial scout?" "Quite sure" said the emperor with grin. The man dressed in Black sheathed his dagger at his side and then walked over to the emperor and saluted him

"You asked to see me sir?" "Yes, i have a Mission for you, A Class 2 mission" December looked surprised. "Sir...a class two??" "Maybe your better off sending one of the other agents..November perhaps, shes new and needs the experience." "I'm surprised at you December!" the emperor got a surprised look on his face "turning down a mission? why this must be a first in Imperial scout history!" "Wait till January hears this." "No..No...ill take the mission" December said wrinkling up his nose, the emperor Chuckled "i do believe being head of the imperial scouts has made you soft"

"Any way about your mission, at around 4:12am Bynzeki time, there was a car bombing as well as an Assassination of an intelligence official" "Wait!...sir Bynzekistan?" "Talgius is the ambassador there is he not?" December looked a bit worried "I'm sure my Cousin is in no danger, But you might inquire to that as a side note if you wish." The emperor then continued "You are to go at once to The BIS And show them the tiger on your sleeve, this will identify you as an Imperial Scout and they will show you to the proper person to speak with, I want a full investigation help them in ANY way practical you need more agents? Ask they will be given to you, Any thing the Bynzekistan Government needs they will get. Its time to Help out our Allies.

" December looked a bit nervous "Sir....This mission is a tad..dangrus...maybe you SHOULD send November..." the emperor shook his head "November is brand new shes not experienced enough, You are the only one with the Experience to handle this December. I know i can count on you." "Very well sir...ill see what i can do" December said slowly "Very good" the emperor patted December on the back "Good Luck and Gods Speed. You are Dismissed" "yes sir.." December then turned to walk out of the room.

"Oh and December" the emperor started "Yes Excellency?" December turned around slowly "If your Skills are so rusty I can here you coming into a room you might want to work on them a bit before you go." Both men laughed and December turned and exited the room.

Priscilla sat in front of the commscreen, trying to absorb all that the Xeraphian's had collected.

Information was an understatement. There were ancient documents, archaeological digs, even artifacts from several "lost civilizations", including Cimmeria, Lemuria, Acheronn ( she shivered at the thought of that one), and of course, Atlantis.

Atlantis had numerous off-shoots, colonies that had been established in ages past: the Mayans and Incas were one, the Phoenicians another. There were even some archaic pottery shards that suggested that Xeraph was an Atlantean outpost.

The visuals that the probe provided didn't lend suggestion that the underwater city was Atlantean. But it was a possibility. And the big question in her mind was 'how did the zonebug get inside the city?' There were no signs of life around the city. No indication at all that there were inhabitants, as remote a possibility as that was.

But....there was more to this city than met the eye.

And she was going to find out as much as possible..............

Georgi Bynschev was tired... very tired. It was now 7:50pm. He'd not slept since he woke up at 6am the previous day. Yesterday was a normal day. Routines, schedules and meetings. Nothing compared to today. Today was hellish.

Bynschev was in the midst of a fierce internal debate. For several minutes now, he had been glancing every now and again at a small end table at the far side of his office. On top of this table sat a round wooden tray, on which sat a decanter and three small glasses. The decanter was about half full, and contained a rare liquor, a gift from the native Larylen tribes. The liquor was sweet, very tasty and very relaxing. The internal debate in which Bynschev was engaged concerned him getting up, walking over to the end table, pouring himself a glass of the liquor, returning to his seat, consuming said beverage and spending a few quiet minutes alone with his thoughts. The debate was never about whether or not he should. The debate was whether or not he had enough energy to do so.

But then, on cue, as always... a buzzer went off. This time it was on his computer, a secure transmission from Elyria-Lorain. It was the Duchess herself. Bynschev pressed Shift+F9 to open the secure line.

"Good evening, Your Grace."
"Good evening, Mr. President."
"How can I help you?"
"Mr. President, are you aware of the giant city sitting at the bottom of one of your lakes, approximately 400 miles south-west of the capital city?"
"I am, Your Grace. Why do you ask?"
"I authorised a probe to be sent to investigate a signal from a zonebug that was taken from one of my soldiers in the events of today."
"Oh yes?"
"Yes. The probe located the zonebug in the city. I and my government, myself in particular, are interested to know about this small city and its significance."

"Well, I can give you a basic rundown. The city is called Romis, and it is by no means small. Some sources say it is larger even than the Capital. Your probe would have seen the basic structure... various bubbles, cavities and tunnels. The lake in which Romis sits is over 4 kilometres deep. The highest bubbles, namely the Master's chamber and its connected rooms, sit around 2 kilometres above the lake floor. But this is only above ground. More tunnels lead below the floor of the lake and into its rock walls. The intricate tunnel and cavity network has been estimated to be around five square kilometres in size.
As to its significance, the city of Romis is the last known Great City of the Romani. The Romani once had several hundred cities on the sea floor and in the forests of the ancient world of Tolacor. Romis is home to over 500,000 Romani, some who are over 5000 years old. They are led by the Master, who himself is around 7000 years old, nobody knows exactly. I have met him on several occasions. He is a lovely man, kind and compassionate, and only wanting the best for his people.
Bynzekistan's position politics-wise is that the ancient races of Tolacor, or what's left of them, can live their own lives, governed how they've always been. If they need assistance, all they need do is ask."

The Duchess thought for a moment. "Can we retrieve our zonebug? Can we talk to these people? Learn about them?"
"You're more than welcome to, Your Grace. If you yourself would like to come, or send a representative, here to the Capital first, I can let the Master know you're coming. You'll also need some preparation in order to get to the city. Conventional methods are out of the question...."

bump

Priscilla mulled over the pros and cons. She was sure that if she could get to the Wise One of the Romanis that she could get some answers to her, and Xeraph's, present dilemna.

" Mr. Bynschev, I would like to come personally to see this underwater city, and talk to it's inhabitants. Could you arrange for three to come to Romi?"

bump

Bynschev picked up the phone and pressed a button. After a second or two a voice came through from the other end. It was Bynschev's aide. The President asked her to patch him through to the police dispatch. Within a few minutes he was speaking to the constable in charge of a small, remote police station in the far west of the province of Cadarun.

"Constable Perron speaking."
"Constable, this is President Bynschev."
"Ah... okay... Mr. President, how can I help you?"
"I need to get in touch with a Relor Dilormin. Do you know who I'm talking about?"
"Yes, sir. He's the Slynex wrangler who lives just down from us. Old-fashioned fellow. Very old."
"That's him. I don't suppose one of your men would be able to bring Relor to the station so I could speak with him?"
"That won't be a problem, sir... hold the line... we'll have him back here in about twenty minutes."
"Thank you, Constable."

While he waited, Bynschev thought about the Duchess's message. She wished to visit Romis and see it for herself. The Romani were only too happy to have visitors, and Bynschev had no doubt that the Duchess and the Master would get on famously. But Bynschev wondered if the Duchess had any alterior motive. Relations between Elyria-Lorain and Bynzekistan had been strong, and Bynschev wanted to make sure it stayed that way. Maybe the Duchess just wanted to check it out. Maybe Bynschev was just being paranoid - it made sense, given everything else that was going on.

Relor Dilormin came on the line. Bynschev smiled. They hadn't been in touch for about fifteen years, ever since Bynschev last worked on the Slynex ranch, a few years before his election as President. Relor had a gravely voice, a result of years of working in heat, dust and rain, and a byproduct of riding Slynexs for so long.

"Georgi, my friend! It's been so long... I'd almost forgotten how to use one of these phone things!" - Relor spoke in perfect Liranocuni, with the typical drawling Larylen dialect.
"It's good to hear your voice, Relor," the President of Bynzekistan replied.
"So, are you coming to work with me again?"
"I'm afraid not. I have a small favour to ask."
"Anything at all."
"I need two Slynexs and their riders in the Capital tomorrow morning. Can that be done?"
"Of course. I'll ride one of them myself. May I ask why?"
"I have a guest arriving, who wants to visit Romis. I thought I'd show her around the old-fashioned way."
Relor laughed. "Haha! Sounds great! Remember our journeys through Nimolu and then up over the landbridge... they were great fun!"
"Good times. We must do it again some day."
"Indeed. Well that's not an issue. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend."
"I look forward to it."
The phone clicked off.

Bynschev picked it up again and dialled Elyria-Lorain. The Duchess answered.

"Your Grace, if you can be in the Capital tomorrow afternoon, I'd be glad to show you Romis, and arrange a meeting with the Master...."

Bynschev picked up the phone and pressed a button. After a second or two a voice came through from the other end. It was Bynschev's aide. The President asked her to patch him through to the police dispatch. Within a few minutes he was speaking to the constable in charge of a small, remote police station in the far west of the province of Cadarun.

"Constable Perron speaking."
"Constable, this is President Bynschev."
"Ah... okay... Mr. President, how can I help you?"
"I need to get in touch with a Relor Dilormin. Do you know who I'm talking about?"
"Yes, sir. He's the Slynex wrangler who lives just down from us. Old-fashioned fellow. Very old."
"That's him. I don't suppose one of your men would be able to bring Relor to the station so I could speak with him?"
"That won't be a problem, sir... hold the line... we'll have him back here in about twenty minutes."
"Thank you, Constable."

While he waited, Bynschev thought about the Duchess's message. She wished to visit Romis and see it for herself. The Romani were only too happy to have visitors, and Bynschev had no doubt that the Duchess and the Master would get on famously. But Bynschev wondered if the Duchess had any alterior motive. Relations between Elyria-Lorain and Bynzekistan had been strong, and Bynschev wanted to make sure it stayed that way. Maybe the Duchess just wanted to check it out. Maybe Bynschev was just being paranoid - it made sense, given everything else that was going on.

Relor Dilormin came on the line. Bynschev smiled. They hadn't been in touch for about fifteen years, ever since Bynschev last worked on the Slynex ranch, a few years before his election as President. Relor had a gravely voice, a result of years of working in heat, dust and rain, and a byproduct of riding Slynexs for so long.

"Georgi, my friend! It's been so long... I'd almost forgotten how to use one of these phone things!" - Relor spoke in perfect Liranocuni, with the typical drawling Larylen dialect.
"It's good to hear your voice, Relor," the President of Bynzekistan replied.
"So, are you coming to work with me again?"
"I'm afraid not. I have a small favour to ask."
"Anything at all."
"I need two Slynexs and their riders in the Capital tomorrow morning. Can that be done?"
"Of course. I'll ride one of them myself. May I ask why?"
"I have a guest arriving, who wants to visit Romis. I thought I'd show her around the old-fashioned way."
Relor laughed. "Haha! Sounds great! Remember our journeys through Nimolu and then up over the landbridge... they were great fun!"
"Good times. We must do it again some day."
"Indeed. Well that's not an issue. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend."
"I look forward to it."
The phone clicked off.

Bynschev picked it up again and dialled Elyria-Lorain. The Duchess answered.

"Your Grace, if you can be in the Capital tomorrow afternoon, I'd be glad to show you Romis, and arrange a meeting with the Master...."


Mr. Bynschev,

Tomorrow will work for me. I'll have the Xeraphians beam me over to you. My main objective is not only to see the city, but to ask the Master if he can give us advice concerning the sorceror, Xaltotun.

regards,

The Duchess

ooc: if you don't know what I'm referring to, check out the "Nation Seeking Allies" thread I started. You can read the whole thing if you want, but I think the last 6 or 7 pages sums up the situation.

Bynschev read the message from the Duchess. He then shut down his computer, walked over to that end table, poured a glass of the Larylen liquor, sat down and drank it. He took several deep breaths, shut his eyes for a while, then got up again.

Sod it, he thought. He went over and switched on a small lamp on the coffee table. He then turned off the main lights in his office. He took off his blazer and his tie and gingerly lay down on the leather couch.

Within sixty seconds the President of Bynzekistan was asleep.

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

TIME MARKER/RECAP:

It's around 11pm on Day 1.

Earlier that morning, a Bynzeki Intelligence Agent was killed by a sniper, who later flew to Bravendore. Members of the Earth Liberation Front, terrorists, stayed in a Bynzeki hotel, but when BIS agents arrived, the room was empty. A bomb was detonated, killing all agents. The ELF agents were spotted in the forest outside the Bynzeki capital, and the Bynzekistan Reserves gave chase, later aided by Elyria-Lorain, who were trying to rescue two of their men from the terrorists. The ELF group were apprehended, the Elyria-Lorain troops saved. The surviving ELF agents are awaiting interrogation.

A number of international diplomats are arriving in Bynzekistan for the opening of the new house of parliament.

Elyria-Lorain has found the ancient Romani city of Romis, and have asked President Bynschev if they can visit the city. This is due to happen tomorrow.

December shifted uneasily in his seat on the private plane taking him to Bynzekistan "We will be arriving shortly sir" the pilot announced "very good" December said "is something wrong sir?" December looked at the pilot "Eh Nothing really i hate to fly is all.." the pilot chuckled "a common fear sir nothing to worry about though, I'm the best pilot in the fleet." "Do you know any thing about Bynzekistan?" December asked the pilot. The pilot looked at December thinking what an off question it was for an intelligence official to ask HIM if he knew more then he did. "well I'm sure i know less then you sir" the pilot answerd "no no...i mean what kind of people are they?" "Oh well they are an OK sort i guess sir, the emperor seems to think highly of them." "And what about this BIS iv never worked with them before, Are they well equipped?" "well probably more then we are sir." the pilot laughed. December thought nervously for awhile and drifted off to sleep. "Sir!" December awoke. "Yes what is it?" we will be arriving in Bynzekistan in about 5 minutes sir you should get ready to disembark now. "Oh thank you." with that December Made ready to help the Empires Allies with whatever they might need.

It's a well known fact throughout Bynzekistan and among the world's wildlife academic circles that the Slynex, native exclusively to Bynzekistan, can fly to heights of almost two kilometres. In ancient times, the Larylen people would breed and train Slynexs for transporting people and goods over long distances, and some Larylen still do today.

However, it is known only to a few select people that Slynexs are also aquatic. You would not deduce this by examining their furry skin and apparently land-oriented respiratory system. The Slynex prefers land, but can stay underwater for up to 72 hours. The bones in their wings are webbed, and they are great swimmers.

Ancient Romani explorers used Slynexs to explore the sea bed, and locate suitable places to build their massive underwater cities. The hobby of riding Slynexs underwater was made available to non-Romani by the discovery of the Imla pod. The small pod is swallowed, and expands in the throat. The pod filters the oxygen out of the water, effectively allowing the person to breathe underwater.

A few people still ride Slynex around the waterways and oceans of Bynzekistan. Until his election as President, one of these people was Georgi Bynschev.

As the President stood on the roof of the Capital Building in the morning sun, he looked up toward the sky, and saw two small shapes become larger and larger, until two magnificent Slynexs, their fur gleaming in the sunlight, touched down on the roof. Off one of them jumped a young Larylen, who immediately started checking the bridles and brushing the animals' fur. Down off the other scrambled an older man, wrapped up in traditional Larylen flying rags... but Bynschev recognised him immediately. Relor Dilormin.

The old man unwrapped a thick rag from his face and rushed over to the President. The two men embraced warmly.

"It's good to see you, my old friend," Bynschev said.
"It's been far too long, Georgi," Relor smiled. "So where's your guest?"
"She and her entourage won't be arriving until this afternoon. I thought we could have lunch and catch up."
"Sounds wonderful. Lorm!" Relor called to the other Larylen, who was now polishing a saddle. "Leave that for a while... come and eat with us."

The three men descended the open air staircase into the upper levels of the Capital building.

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

Runar Mirnon sat watching the early news on television. An attractive news anchor was relaying the latest stories. After the rescue of a child from a landslide in Hidura, and political tension in the tiny and remote counties of Lirucad, a headline flashed across the screen which grabbed Mirnon's immediate attention.

"TERRORISTS FROM BAZALONIA IN BYNZEKISTAN?"

The anchor shuffled her papers and looked at the camera.

"News in from lastnight, and unconfirmed reports suggest that the diplomatic party currently in Bynzekistan for the opening of the House of the Republic may have an alterior motive. Bazalonian terrorists may have infiltrated Bynzekistan."

Mirnon picked up the phone immediately and called the Department of Defence. The Minister himself answered the phone.

"Korad, it's Runar... have you seen the news?"
"The Bazalonia thing? Yeah. We're looking into it."
"Okay, anything we can do?"
"Can you run checks on all the Bazalonian visitors?"
"Consider it done."
"Thanks, let me know."
The phone clicked.

Mirnon called in Hek and Ila... this day wasn't going to be any easier than the one before...

It was a beautiful morning, a perfect day for visiting a neighboring country. Not to mention visiting an ancient underwater city-state.

Priscilla, like many women every morning, fretted over the fact that she had nothing to wear. This despite the fact that she had 6 closets full of clothes and over 150 pairs of shoes.

As this was to be a bit of a walking tour, she decided on a casual outfit. Jeans, flannel shhirt, leather vest and hiking boots seemed to be in order. If the people of Bynzekistan were unused to seeing heads of state dressed this way, well, they were just going to have to get used to it. She was raised a country girl, out on her father's horse farm in old Acamar Prime. And her grandfather took her riding through the Mountains of Smoke on many occasions. She could shoot pretty good, too.

" Captain, please inform the President that I will be beaming over to his office in about an hour."

" Just you, m'lady?"

She hadn't thought of that. Should she bring a guard or two?

" Captain, have one of our Centurions accompany me. I'm sure I'll be perfectly safe, but you never know."

" Yes ma'am, will do."

bump

bump

Sir Richard ruffled through his diary looking for a numbert to the phone for his official contact in the Bynzeki Government... He found it... dial-ed the number... The contact was not in... Sir Richard left an urgent message for the contact him back at the hotel as soon as he got in.

Emma had a draft press release written... She gave it to Peter to go over.... He made a few notes on it and gave it back to her... this went on for hours until it was finally ready.... There was no point in

Jacque was just doing a job keeping a look out for the security of his charges... Room service was ordered and he checked that out for bugs and a number of other security risks... there where not any

Richard had been going over his plans for dealing with the situation... he could not organise for him to be on the mornings press as many people where away for the night...

Eventually they went to bed much later than any of them had hoped to...

The next morning they got up and had organised to slip in a live press briefing in between their meetings... The first meeting with the Bynzeki government was 10am...

Emma released the Press release firstly denouncing the facts and denying that any Bazalonian was involved in any way with the acts of Terrorism and the diplomatic mission was only seeking to establish diplomatic relations
between the great nation of Bynzekistan and Bazalonia.

The four Bazalonians quickly left their hotel and into their car and onto the Bynzeki parliment for the meeting...

(OOC: I'm, not really sure who the meeting should be with but whoever you decide to introduce is fine with me :) )

((OOC: Sorry I haven't been around folks. We had a storm here and my modem got fried, but I've got a new one now. I'll be back in the next few days to tie up all my loose story threads :) ))

((OOC: Sorry I haven't been around folks. We had a storm here and my modem got fried, but I've got a new one now. I'll be back in the next few days to tie up all my loose story threads :) ))

ooc...glad to see your'e ok..talk to ya soon

ooc: Um... Hello?

((OOC: Whoa... long time... I am very very sorry guys... been really busy IRL and haven't had a chance to post much here at all... any chance you'd all be interested in getting this going again?))

((OOC: Whoa... long time... I am very very sorry guys... been really busy IRL and haven't had a chance to post much here at all... any chance you'd all be interested in getting this going again?))

OOC: Yes. Bazalonia needs to clear it's name...

BUMP.

The story stands:

It's around 11pm on Day 1.

Earlier that morning, a Bynzeki Intelligence Agent was killed by a sniper, who later flew to Bravendore. Members of the Earth Liberation Front, terrorists, stayed in a Bynzeki hotel, but when BIS agents arrived, the room was empty. A bomb was detonated, killing all agents. The ELF agents were spotted in the forest outside the Bynzeki capital, and the Bynzekistan Reserves gave chase, later aided by Elyria-Lorain, who were trying to rescue two of their men from the terrorists. The ELF group were apprehended, the Elyria-Lorain troops saved. The surviving ELF agents are awaiting interrogation.

A number of international diplomats are arriving in Bynzekistan for the opening of the new house of parliament. Included are the delegates from Bazalonia, who arrive in the midst of a media buzz accusing them of terrorist activities.

Elyria-Lorain has found the ancient Romani city of Romis, and have asked President Bynschev if they can visit the city. This is due to happen tomorrow.

New nations welcome! Read over the storyline to catch up. This story is old but I don't want it to die!

OOC: Ooo.... Blast from the past... I don't have time for a proper post now but I will do one later. Just to let you know I'm still interested in finishing this off.

OOC: I forgot how good this story was. I'll pick it up in a day or so. Gotta re-read it a couple more times. EL appears to have dropped from sight. Hope she gets back with it.

(( OOC: I'm working on a summary entry - I'll tie up some of the loose ends from the nations that aren't active any more, and I'll open up some new holes for new and already playing nations to get back into it. The post should be up tonight my time (about 12 hours away). ))

President Bynschev and his old friend Relor Dilormin stood on the roof of the Capital Building in the center of Bynzek City. The late morning sun was warm and the light breeze made the climate most amiable. As they were admiring the view, there was a 'whoosh' sound, and they were suddenly in the company of a shapely and attractive lady dressed in outdoor wear, and a tall, stocky bodyguard. The Bynzeki President stepped forward and bowed.

'Good day, your Grace, and welcome to Bynzekistan. I am President Bynschev.'
'A pleasure, Mr. President. I am the Priscilla, Duchess of Elyria-Lorain.'
'The pleasure is all mine,' said the President, kissing the Duchess' hand, and leading her over to Relor and the Slynexs.
'Your Grace, I'd like to introduce my friend Relor Dilormin. He and I used to wrangle these animals before I got involved in politics. Relor, this is Duchess Priscilla.'
Relor blushed noticeably, nodded and muttered, 'Your Grace.'
'Lovely to meet you Relor,' the Duchess said, beaming and taking Relor's hand in hers.
'We should get going, Your Grace, we have lots to see. If I could get you to swallow this -' The President handed the Duchess a small seed. 'This is called an imla pod. Just trust me when I say you'll need it.'
The Duchess, though dubious, did as she was told.
'Come on, Relor, let's get a move on,' said the President. 'I'll take the Duchess with me, and you lead the way to the lake.'
'Whatever you say, Georgi,' Relor shouted back. He leaped up onto his Slynex, gathered up the reins, and with a solid kick and a yell of 'Ha!' the Slynex took off and flapped away.

Bynshev helped the Duchess onto the back of their Slynex. As he did so he detected the faint scent of an exotic perfume, presumably from Elyria-Lorain. His vision swam for the faintest of seconds - it'd been a long time since he had smelled perfume up close. He climbed up in front of the Duchess and took the reins of the beast. He kicked it hard and it took a few strides then leapt into the air. The President felt the Duchess's grip around his waist tighten and he grinned. Riding Slynexs was something you never forgot how much you loved.

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

About forty minutes later they were circling down over the ancient ring island of Duvor, and its massive central lake. The President of Bynzekistan leant back.
'Duchess? You know that pod you swallowed? This is why you did it. Hold on.'
With that the President let go of the reins and grabbed the huge animal's neck.
'You ready?' Bynschev asked.
'Ready for what?' the Duchess asked.
'HILURO!' Bynschev shouted. The animal reacted by changing its direction of flight - straight down. The two Slynexs plummeted towards the giant lake at an incredible speed.

Bynschev let out a scream of euphoria - he hadn't done this in years. Relor was laughing. The Duchess was considering the wisdom of her decisions to eat anything in the last 24 hours.

About a hundred metres above the surface of the lake, the two animals were reined up into a rapid flight level with the water, then let slowly down until they breached the surface. The animals shot underwater at an incredible speed, then began swimming further down under the water. At first the Duchess panicked and clutched her throat. Bynschev turned around and signalled at her throat, then made a swallowing gesture and pointed up. He then took a large breath, and let it out, then made the thumbs up sign. The Duchess tried it - and found she could breathe normally.

The Slynexs swam down deeper and deeper, until they reached a rocky underwater cliff. They swam through a small tunnel, then out into open water again. And there, before them, lay the ancient city of Romis. The Duchess, still somewhat to her amazement considering her present underwater predicament, gasped. The animals swam to a small platform near a bubble, and the riders swam down to a large transparent portal. From here they were admitted into a chamber where the water was evacuated, large invisible hot blowers dried their clothes completely, and a second door opened into the city foyer. An old Romani man dressed in green and purple robes stepped forward to greet them. Behind him stood a human - dressed all in black.

Bynschev stepped forward and clasped the old Romani's hands warmly. 'Master - it is wonderful to see you again.'
'And you, Mr. President. It has been a long time.'
'Very true. Master - may I introduce the Duchess of Elyria-Lorain.'
'It is a pleasure, your Grace.' The Master inclined his head politely.
'The pleasure is mine, Master,' the Duchess replied.
'Please, all of you, come to my chambers and we will talk.'

As they turned around to head into the city proper, Bynschev was stunned to notice a Blue Slynex emblazoned across the back of the human's sweater. The human glanced coldly in Bynschev's direction and kept walking.

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

Dalor Mavloc, personal aide to the Bynzeki Minister for Defence, was stunned. He'd been in charge of interrogating the prisoners from the Earth Liberation Front, but he'd just been informed that the prisoners had committed suicide. Poison pills, apparently. Mavloc had gone in to check, and, sure enough, the prisoners were lying in the corner of their cells, foam still dripping from their mouths, eyes back in their sockets. They were gone.

Shit, Mavloc thought. The end of the ELF and that investigation. He dialled up the Defence Minister. This was going to be a hard phone call.

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

In a bar in Bravendore, the man in the black trenchcoat sat in the corner with a glass of the most expensive liquor he could find. As he sipped some, his phone rang. He took it out, looked at the number, grunted and answered.

'Yeah.'
'HQ. Where the fuck are you?'
'Who gives a fuck?'
'We do. We have work for you.'
'I have work here.'
'Where's here?'
'Bravendore.'
'Listen, fuck Bravendore. This work is from on high. We need you back in the Capital stat. We'll pay you double what you're getting for this.'
'You'd better.'
'We will.'
'Fine. I'll be on a plane in an hour.'

The man hung up. Looks like he was heading home. On his way to the airport he rang his contact and had him book a room for the following night at the Meroni Hotel, on the eastern side of Central Square - in Bynzek City.

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

The Bazalonian delegation arrived in the Capital Building at 9:54am. They were shown immediately to the offices of Linoc Duvaron, Bynzekistan's Minister of Foreign Affairs. A tall, well-dressed man turned around in his chair, stood up and walked round the desk to greet them.

'Good morning, friends. Welcome to Bynzekistan! My name is Linoc Duvaron. Please, sit.'
'Thank you,' Sir Richard replied. 'I am Richard, these are my aides, Emma and Peter, and this is my point man Jacque.' Linoc shook hands with each of them. 'Mr Duvaron, I wish first of all to state officially that the Bazalonian government knows nothing of this terrorist activity in your nation.'
'I'm sorry?' Linoc said.
'The supposed Bazalonian terrorists. Surely you've seen the news..?'
'Oh, that,' Linoc said dismissively. 'Richard, we have no reason whatsoever to believe your nation's interests are anything other than sincere, and any links to these terrorists are purely coincidental and entirely not of your knowledge. Now please, can we talk, as friends?' The Minister beamed. The Bazalonian delegation, heavily relieved, beamed back.

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

((OOC: Hope this clears a few things up, and reinvigorates the story a little. I have big plans for the sniper, so I'd ask that for the time being he be left alone. The rest is open slather for those involved though. New nations always welcome, as long as your entry into the story is original and creative!))

P

The Bazalonian delegation arrived in the Capital Building at 9:54am. They were shown immediately to the offices of Linoc Duvaron, Bynzekistan's Minister of Foreign Affairs. A tall, well-dressed man turned around in his chair, stood up and walked round the desk to greet them.

'Good morning, friends. Welcome to Bynzekistan! My name is Linoc Duvaron. Please, sit.'
'Thank you,' Sir Richard replied. 'I am Richard, these are my aides, Emma and Peter, and this is my point man Jacque.' Linoc shook hands with each of them. 'Mr Duvaron, I wish first of all to state officially that the Bazalonian government knows nothing of this terrorist activity in your nation.'
'I'm sorry?' Linoc said.
'The supposed Bazalonian terrorists. Surely you've seen the news..?'
'Oh, that,' Linoc said dismissively. 'Richard, we have no reason whatsoever to believe your nation's interests are anything other than sincere, and any links to these terrorists are purely coincidental and entirely not of your knowledge. Now please, can we talk, as friends?' The Minister beamed. The Bazalonian delegation, heavily relieved, beamed back.


"You have no idea how relieved we are to hear that, but now onto much more pleasant topics. As small a nation as we are (OOC: Though we are now 50x the size as we were than this RP Started :p ) looking to establish firm friendships and relationships with larger nations to help build our nation into an economically strong and prosperous nation as well as building. Our government wishes to establish trade link, discuss a free trade agreement as well as exchange embassies. Even though we realise we cannot just snap our fingers and have an agreement signed and implimented."

Our government wishes to establish trade link, discuss a free trade agreement as well as exchange embassies.

Linoc Duvaron sat back in his chair and regarded the Bazalonian delegation with a diplomat's gaze.

"I see honesty and integrity in you,' he said, not without some authority. The species Romani, of which Linoc was one, were known to be able to read peoples' expressions and deduce very deep meaning from them. "Very well. I will have my people draft a trade pact to open the channels between our nations. You will also be granted 50 hectares of land in the province of Cadomir. Our ambassador to Bazalonia will be appointed shortly, and he will be travelling to your nation with a five-person advisory committee, a personail aide and a ten-man security detail. I hope this is to your approval?"

"M'lord, we have a couple of lines here about an ally, Bynzekistan. Haven't heard from them in a while."

Alaric Tan'it, Emperor of Xeraph, glanced at the commscreen. "Seems our ever-nosey friend the Duchess is sticking that lovely nose into something quite unusual."

"Unusual? How so, M'lord?"

"Youv'e heard of the ancient myths surrounding the Romanl legend, haven't you?"

Capt. Parmenter thought for a second. "You mean the underwater cities of old Atlantis and the flying whatever-they-are? Slynexes? Childrens' fables, nothing more."

Alaric hit the 'print' button and turned to look at Parmenter. "That's what they want you to think, Captain. Theyv'e been well-hidden for centuries. No one knows for sure just how many of them there are........but they ARE real."

"Damn! That means Terra has an unknown, potentially dangerous entity lurking below the sea."

"Unknown, yes. Dangerous, no. Bynzeckistan evidently has been in constant contact with them for a long time. Decades. And what little I know of them, they are not hostile to anyone. More a bunch of mystics and pacifists than anything else. And the Atlantis link has never been confirmed. Remember, old Tanith was an Atlantean mercenary for decades before the island sank beneath the waves. Where HE was from, we still don't know. But just before the island dissolved, he had taken the throne and just barely made his escape to the islands south-west of here where Mandalore Prime now calls home. I have no reference of any kind in the old scrolls to an under-sea nation. But, who knows.....perhaps they are long-lost relatives of mine."

"So what's the Duchess doing there?" asked the captain.

"Lord only knows, Captain, Lord only knows. But, tell you what. Why don't you get a message off to the B-stan people and see if we can wrangle an invite from whoever is running the Romanii territory. And keep it ultra-top secret. Only Strickland and Sethanis are to know."

"Yes, M'lord. Right away."

Menia, tall, slender, beautiful, rose from her station and walked briskly to the Master's chambers. She knocked politely on the great wooden portal, which opened gently at her touch. The Master turned from his guests to face her.

'Come, my child. What brings you here?'
'I apologise for the interruption, Master, but we've just received a transmission from a Captain Parmenter from Xeraph.'
'Oh?'
'Master, he wishes to meet with you.'
'My, I am popular all of a sudden, aren't I?' The Master chuckled, then turned back to Menia. 'Menia, please tell the good Captain that we would be delighted to meet with the Xeraphians. And organise for a banquet for all our guests.'
'Yes, Master.' Menia bowed politely then exited the room.

The Duchess looked amused. 'Master, it seems the great nations of the world are descending on the deep heart of Bynzekistan tonight.'
'Indeed,' the Master replied. President Bynschev let out a laugh.
'What's amusing, Mr President?' the Duchess enquired.
'Oh, nothing,' the President replied. 'I think it's interesting, though, that it takes me over a year to organise a diplomatic summit with Bynzekistan's allies, and the Master here has them all heading to Romis in the space of a few hours!' They laughed.
'This is true,' the Master said in a solemn voice. 'But perhaps, I think, this is an occasion for truths to be uncovered. Many paths lead to this city, but I fear only one leads away from it...'

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

The man in the black trenchcoat packed up his few belongings in a small daypack at the Meroni. He locked up his room, went downstairs, checked out and walked into Central Square on a warm Bynzek City morning, not unlike the one he had flown out after that very first job - the Intelligence Agent.

The man entered a black jeep, which took off out of the Square, then out of the city, down to the shores of the northern Nimolu waters. A speedboat was waiting for him, which took him southwest through the islands to Duvor, and its giant central lake. After swallowing an imla pod, the man leapt off the boat into the cool water, and started to swim...

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

(OOC: What do we think?...)

ooc: perhaps an assassination attempt on one or more of the banquet attendees, although it would take a lot to get thru the security measures. Alaric's "bodyguards" could take care of the potential situation quite handily...if quite bloody...heh, heh.

(OOC: That was my first thought, but then I thought that the assassin could actually be one of the original members of the Blue Slynex operation, and he would eat and drink with all the other characters, including the Xeraphian delegation, and then the truth would emerge about this whole RP, as well as Xeraph's interests in the origins of the Romani...)

(OOC: That was my first thought, but then I thought that the assassin could actually be one of the original members of the Blue Slynex operation, and he would eat and drink with all the other characters, including the Xeraphian delegation, and then the truth would emerge about this whole RP, as well as Xeraph's interests in the origins of the Romani...)


ooc: I like the way you think. Machievelli has nothing on you.

Linoc Duvaron sat back in his chair and regarded the Bazalonian delegation with a diplomat's gaze.

"I see honesty and integrity in you,' he said, not without some authority. The species Romani, of which Linoc was one, were known to be able to read peoples' expressions and deduce very deep meaning from them. "Very well. I will have my people draft a trade pact to open the channels between our nations. You will also be granted 50 hectares of land in the province of Cadomir. Our ambassador to Bazalonia will be appointed shortly, and he will be travelling to your nation with a five-person advisory committee, a personail aide and a ten-man security detail. I hope this is to your approval?"

"Thank you, Honesty and Integrity are something that I find lacking in Politics in general. The Ambassadorial delegtion is certainly quite acceptible, We were thinking of sending something very similiar to that to you, the only changes would be the addition of cultural and trade attaches."

Richard took a sip of Water

"On another matter, something less pleaseant about the false allegations, I have been thinking about it alot, and it seems to be something of a more malignant attack than simply the purportators attempting to play games with the Bynzeki intelligence services, and also while on the topic while we may be small we still have a well funded intelligence structure, Officially we'd like to provide whatever aid we can to assist in bringing the purportators of this insidious attack to justice."

At that moment, Linoc Duvaron's phone rang. He excused himself, then answered it. 'Yes?'

'Mr Duvaron, it's Hek Mulang from Bynzeki Intelligence.'
'Can I help you?'
'I understand you're with the Bazalonian delegation now, is that right?'
'Yes.'
'Is there any way we can speak in private?'
'Actually - in the interest of diplomacy I think that they should hear anything you've got to say. I'm putting you on speakerphone.'
'But sir, I hardly think -' and then Mr Mulang's voice echoed around the large office.
'This is Hek Mulang of the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service. He's been investigating the allegations surrounding your nation's involvement in terrorism. Hek, you're now speaking to myself and the Bazalonian delegation, led by one Sir Richard Menazse.'
'Uh, hello, sirs.' Emma cleared her throat loudly. 'And madams! And madams,' Hek said quickly.
'Now,' said Duvaron. 'What do you have?'
'Ah, sir we've been going over the Bynzekistan secured wires archives, and we've come across a transmission from a Bazalonian national that was made yesterday.'
'Excellent work!' said Sir Richard. 'Do you have any idea who it is?'
'No, sir - but we have been able to narrow it down considerably.'
'Oh yes?' said Sir Richard.
'Uh, sir - the transmission came from your jet....'

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

The mysterious man reached the entrance to Romis, the underwater city, dried off and went inside. As soon as he was in the foyer, he was escorted to the Master's chambers. When he entered, the assembled group turned to look at him. The man with the Blue Slynex on his back looked stunned. The Master stood.

'My son, I do not know you. Pray, what is your name, and why are you here?'
The Blue Slynex man stepped forward. 'I can answer that.' Everyone turned. 'This man's name is Mylo Gorbachev. He is half Bynzeki, and half Bazalonian. He is a professional killer. He killed that Bynzeki Intelligence agent this morning. And he is the most vicious, backstabbing, conniving son of a bitch this side of Elyria.'
Gorbachev, the sniper, regarded the man coolly. He then turned to the group and spoke very quietly. 'And this man, that you see before you, is Eldric Voleron, of Xeraphian heritage, but born and raised in Bynzekistan. He is idealistic, manipulative and hungry for power. This man is the reason Gnufasur is no more. Gnufasur was annexed to none other than his home nation of Xeraph. Every one of the catpeople were murdered, bar none. And the government, soon to be arriving here, knew nothing. Nothing at all. His little sham to unite this ancient race, the Romani, with the people of Elyria-Lorain is a grab for the credit and the money, nothing more.' The Master was shocked.
'How dare you come down here and spread these allegations! Eldric, is this true?'
Eldric said nothing. He was too busy glaring at Gorbachev with unadulterated rage.
'Mylo, you were a friend.'
'Damn right I was. Until the morning of the drop just outside the capital.'
'But - I had to. It was part of the mission.'
'That's bullshit and you know it. I dropped the papers for the Bazalonians, and you were supposed to come and pick me up. But instead you left me for dead. When the Bazalonian team showed up, they saw me and thought I was there to kill them. I had to shoot them all. Then, for the good of the operation, I had to take the papers to Bazalonia myself. I gave them to our contact, then flew back just in time to complete the mission.'
At this Bynschev stood up. 'What mission? What the hell are you talking about?'
'The most top secret covert ops mission in Bynzekistan's history.' Mylo took off his jacket, and turned round so the group could see the emblem on the back of his black sweater - it was a Blue Slynex...

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

The Duchess and the Master were discussing trivialities when they began to be aware of a soft, high-pitched whine on the far side of the room. As they sought the source of the noise, they saw a fiery blue oval begin to emerge towards the center of the room. Inside the oval were three men who, when they were fully materialised, stepped through the oval, which promptly disappeared.

The three were dressed in black battle-armor, the standard garb for all military personnel. All had similar weapons: twin Katanas, dual Glock 9mm pistols, full ammo belts. All three had the royal shoulder patch of the Black Lion of Xeraph embroidered on their left arm. Their earrings denoted their relative rank...the more rings in the Xeraphian ear, the higher their nobility, eight being the highest. Prince John Strickland, former Supreme Commander of all Xeraphian forces and Lord Sethanis, ruler of the Tribe of Black Shadows, each had seven, four on one ear, three on the other. The only person in the entire Empire who wore eight was standing directly before the Duchess.....Alaric Tan'it, Imperator Xeraphus.

He held Priscilla's gaze for a few seconds, then turned to the man standing next to her. "M'lord Master," he said as he gave a short bow. "I see that you are being entertained by the Duchess d'Avignon. I trust she hasn't told you anything bad about me?"

The Master grinned. "Nothing worth repeating, your Majesty. Greetings, and welcome to my humble home."

Priscilla stood with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot lightly. "Well, M'lord Alaric, long time no see. No hear, either. Did you forget to pay your comm-bill?"

Alaric wasn't taken in by her act. He could see the mirth in her eyes, making her all the more beautiful. "No, M'lady. I've just been.....busy."

She gave him a once-over, then spoke to the Master. "You see, Master, m'lord Emperor is footloose and fancy-free. Three hundred-twenty-three years old and still not properly married. What say you to that?"

The Master looked at Alaric. The Emperor 'heard' the Master say to him just inside his ear, "If you don't mind, I'm staying out of this. She evidently has designs on you."

Alaric was just a bit startled at the voiceless tone in his ear. He nodded at the Master and said to the Duchess. "Come come now, m'lady. Let's not bother the Master with such concerns. John, Seth and I have come here on a quasi-official visit. We need to know as much about this fabulous land as possible. Perhaps we can have dinner later. Catch up what's been happening with each other, and the like."

She eyed him skeptically. "It's the 'and the like' I'm worried about. Very well, Highness. Ten tonight. Don't be late." Priscilla stalked regally out of the room without a look back.

Alaric sighed. The Master said, "She's quite the handful. What're you going to do when the children come?"

Alaric was about to flip off an answer, when it occured to him what the Master had said. "Children you say? That means that....."

Sethanis chuckled. "Yeah, it means that the Imperial bachelor will be so no longer."

"Hmmmfff....we'll see. So, Master, what's next on the agenda?"

At that moment, Linoc Duvaron's phone rang. He excused himself, then answered it. 'Yes?'

'Mr Duvaron, it's Hek Mulang from Bynzeki Intelligence.'
'Can I help you?'
'I understand you're with the Bazalonian delegation now, is that right?'
'Yes.'
'Is there any way we can speak in private?'
'Actually - in the interest of diplomacy I think that they should hear anything you've got to say. I'm putting you on speakerphone.'
'But sir, I hardly think -' and then Mr Mulang's voice echoed around the large office.
'This is Hek Mulang of the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service. He's been investigating the allegations surrounding your nation's involvement in terrorism. Hek, you're now speaking to myself and the Bazalonian delegation, led by one Sir Richard Menazse.'
'Uh, hello, sirs.' Emma cleared her throat loudly. 'And madams! And madams,' Hek said quickly.
'Now,' said Duvaron. 'What do you have?'
'Ah, sir we've been going over the Bynzekistan secured wires archives, and we've come across a transmission from a Bazalonian national that was made yesterday.'
'Excellent work!' said Sir Richard. 'Do you have any idea who it is?'
'No, sir - but we have been able to narrow it down considerably.'
'Oh yes?' said Sir Richard.
'Uh, sir - the transmission came from your jet....'



Many words floated through Richard's mind and most of them were not appropriate to say out loud, in fact one particular one repeated itself over and over.

After a few moments in shock Richard turned to his Aides, "Jacque, I never thought I'd have to ask you to do this but I want to set up surveillance on our delegation. Make sure it is discrete and anyone else that you do use can't know what is going on. We need to know what's going on here."

"Emma, Get the full manifest of the plane, and the BSIO Checks of everyone listed, oh and inform the Prime Minister of what's happening. If anyone asks why say it's for a media campaign we are planing in Bynzekistan to counter the allegations made in the media."

"And Peter I want you to be the Liaison with the Bynzeki Intelligence, I want full disclosure anything that you know, they know and vice versa. When Emma's done what she is doing I want you to go through those documents with someone from the Bynzeki Intelligence Service. I'm sure Mr Mulang can arrange someone. Which remind's me..."

Richard has turned to each of his aides and the flow of words were fast but clear, the importance and the urgency of the situation required it. Turning back from his Aides he faced the phone and Addressed the man from the Bynzeki Intelligence Service.

"Mr Mulang, Is there anyway you can meet with Peter now to fully appraise him of the current situation?"

"So, Master, what's next on the agenda?" enquired Alaric.

The Master regarded the three newcomers coolly. Then his face softened.
"Actually," he replied, "we're just conspiring to put together a banquet this evening, for you, my honoured guests."
"Sounds wonderful," Alaric replied.
"Yes," the Master muttered. "It should be a most enlightening occasion."

After a few hours of idle banter, the guests met the Duchess in the foyer, then marched briskly off to the great banquet hall, led by the Master and his two assistants...

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

"Mr Mulang, Is there anyway you can meet with Peter now to fully appraise him of the current situation?" Sir Richard asked.
"No problem at all, sir. Mr Duvaron, sir - is there any way you can get Peter over here to BIS HQ?"
"Yeh, I'll have a car drop him there," Linoc replied.

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

Half an hour later Peter and Hek sat across from each other in one of the secured meeting rooms in the headquarters of the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service. Hek had just given Peter the rundown on everything they could uncover about the misinformation being spread by the Bazalonian leak.

Peter was taking everything down in a small notepad. When he'd finished, he closed it and looked up. 'Mr Mulang, sir - do you have any idea who it is?'

Hek sighed. 'We know exactly who it is. We traced the call from a mobile on the Bazalonian jet to a secured line in a car that was parked in the carpark of the Meroni Hotel in Bynzek City. The recipient of the call was one Jarman Kell, known member of the Earth Liberation Front. We believe it was he who misled the Bazalonians and the Elyrians into thinking that a bomb had gone off in Bynzekistan.'

'And whose mobile was it?' asked Peter.

'The mobile is registered to one Emma Trésomme...'

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

((OOC: Bazalonia, if you don't want it to be Emma it's fine - just let me know...))

"What?! Are you sure? what was the number that rang?"

Various documents were passed to Peter, the Call trace and other documents revealed the phone number.

Peter read the numbers, it was Emma's number.

"That's her number..." he said


"So I take it that you want to interrogate her about what she was talking to a known terrorist for?" Said Peter, though in reality it was more of a statement than a question.

"I need to make a call..." Peter said as he got up from the table, Peter liked to walk around while he was on the phone, using the speed dial he got onto Sir Richard. Encryption clicked in.

"Sir Richard? It's Peter."

"yeah, Peter, What is it?"

"We've identified the person of interest..... It's Emma."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Her number came up when a call was traced from a mobile of the man believed to be responsible for the negative media campaign."

"And of course, the Bynzeki's would want to interrogate her.... Despite how unpleasant it might be for her. We need to get this resolved now if only to clear her name."

"Exactly what I was thinking, do you have any stipulations?"

"Yes, that we have an observer there, someone who can validate the interrogation, but will not interfere with it."

"Jacque? And what is Emma doing now?"

"Yes, Jacque would be the best choice. She's still trying to get the documents, Apparently she's having a hard time convincing people to give her the documents. I'll get her to take the documents to the BIS when she get's them"

"Okay, thanks. Bye."

and with that the call ended after which Peter relayed the appropriate information and an official request to have an observer present for any interrogation of Bazalonian citizens.

An hour later, Emma and Jacque were in one of the dark interrogation rooms in the heart of the Bynzekistan Intelligence Service. Emma sat on one side of a bare table on an uncomfortable chair. Jacque stood by the door with his arms folded.

Across from the table was a rectangular black void that could only be a one-way window. Standing behind it was the head of the BIS, Runar Mirnon, and Ila Noli, a BIS agent.

BIS agent and analyst Hek Mulang walked through the door, closed it behind him and sat down across from Emma. He emptied the contents of his briefcase and spread it across the table. Emma glanced at the documents, then at Hek.

'Ms. Trésomme, we have reason and evidence to believe that you have been in contact with one Jarman Kell, spokesman for the Earth Liberation Front and instigator of many of the occurrences that have plagued Bynzekistan today. What is your response?...'

"Jarmin Kell is the front man for the ELF?!" she stated barely beliving that the Jarmin Kell she knew could be responsible for what happened, nor could be associated with the ELF, but the papers infront of her spelled it out including the note for her call to his mobile phone.

"the Jarmin Kell, I knew a long time ago would never be involved in something like this but, all the evidence says he is" she said as she went through the documents of detailing some of Jarmins known activities, she reads the documents and horrified at what Jarmin Kell had become.

Bumpity bump - I'll post in the morning, promise =P

Alaric, Sethanis, and Strickland stood listening to the exchange between Gorbachev and the other Slynex man. Alaric tapped his commpin and whispered, "M'lady, before you go, listen to this." Priscilla stopped in her tracks and turned to listen. She glanced at the three Xeraphian Imperials and did her best to stifle a laugh.

The conversation halted for a moment, and he said, "Excuse me, but what you seem to be implying here is that not only did my government annex Gnasfur, but I allowed the genocide of a particular segment of Gnasfurian society....all without my knowledge." He walked over to Volerun, the Blue Slynex operative. He got within three inches of the mans face, and tapped him lightly on the chest. "Let me tell you something, pal. I don't know who you are, where you came from, or what your game is. But this bullshit story is going to stop right here." He turned to Gorbachev. "Xeraphian lineage my ass. Your'e a half-breed member of the now-long-dethroned Elvish/Werewolf clan known as the Lycanosii, those boot-licking traitors who sided with the Kothian Empire decades ago when Xeraph fought for it's very existence. Your'e whore of a great-grand mother ran to the Bazalonian prelate when it became evident she wasn't going to become a countess in the expanded Kothite Empire....because we kicked their ass when all seemed lost due to old Eric Valtane's siege-breaking blitz of the Koth offensive. She gave birth to what would become a warlock who would one day try us again.....Xaltotun. He damn near killed me, but once again with the help this time of Tarlag and the Duchess over there, I succeeded in sending that bastard back to the hell he came from. Now your'e telling me that there's a conspiracy involving Xeraphians, Elyrians, and ELF?"

Turning to The Master, he said, "Sir, you can make of this whatever you wish. Rest assured Xeraph doesn't have any designs on the Romanii, and I think I can say the same for Elyria-Lorain. If it were up to me, I'd pump this bastard full of drugs that'll make him tell all he knows, then I'd TransBeam his ass into orbit around Terra."

All was quiet for an instant......

"Jarmin Kell is the front man for the ELF?!" she stated barely beliving that the Jarmin Kell she knew could be responsible for what happened, nor could be associated with the ELF, but the papers infront of her spelled it out including the note for her call to his mobile phone.

"the Jarmin Kell, I knew a long time ago would never be involved in something like this but, all the evidence says he is" she said as she went through the documents of detailing some of Jarmins known activities, she reads the documents and horrified at what Jarmin Kell had become.

'You're saying you didn't know this Kell was involved in any kind of terrorist activities? How did you know him? Did he ever engage in anything you thought suspicious?'

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

Alaric, Sethanis, and Strickland stood listening to the exchange between Gorbachev and the other Slynex man. Alaric tapped his commpin and whispered, "M'lady, before you go, listen to this." Priscilla stopped in her tracks and turned to listen. She glanced at the three Xeraphian Imperials and did her best to stifle a laugh.

The conversation halted for a moment, and he said, "Excuse me, but what you seem to be implying here is that not only did my government annex Gnasfur, but I allowed the genocide of a particular segment of Gnasfurian society....all without my knowledge." He walked over to Volerun, the Blue Slynex operative. He got within three inches of the mans face, and tapped him lightly on the chest. "Let me tell you something, pal. I don't know who you are, where you came from, or what your game is. But this bullshit story is going to stop right here." He turned to Gorbachev. "Xeraphian lineage my ass. Your'e a half-breed member of the now-long-dethroned Elvish/Werewolf clan known as the Lycanosii, those boot-licking traitors who sided with the Kothian Empire decades ago when Xeraph fought for it's very existence. Your'e whore of a great-grand mother ran to the Bazalonian prelate when it became evident she wasn't going to become a countess in the expanded Kothite Empire....because we kicked their ass when all seemed lost due to old Eric Valtane's siege-breaking blitz of the Koth offensive. She gave birth to what would become a warlock who would one day try us again.....Xaltotun. He damn near killed me, but once again with the help this time of Tarlag and the Duchess over there, I succeeded in sending that bastard back to the hell he came from. Now your'e telling me that there's a conspiracy involving Xeraphians, Elyrians, and ELF?"

Turning to The Master, he said, "Sir, you can make of this whatever you wish. Rest assured Xeraph doesn't have any designs on the Romanii, and I think I can say the same for Elyria-Lorain. If it were up to me, I'd pump this bastard full of drugs that'll make him tell all he knows, then I'd TransBeam his ass into orbit around Terra."

All was quiet for an instant......

The Master stood silently for a few seconds. Then he said:

'We have come together in this great city of antiquity, in union. And yet conflict persists. This is one part of the outsider mentality that we have never quite come to grasp. Mr Gorbachev, Mr Volerun, you are answerable only to the Bynzekistan government for your actions. It is not the place of any of us-' he shot a look at Alaric, 'to judge what you have done, and for now, you may eat and be safe in our company. However I wish to know, and perhaps you two can enlighten me - what was the purpose of this Blue Slynex operation?'

Volerun didn't look up. He merely said, 'Ask him,' and pointed to President Bynschev. 'He denied it before - but he knows everything.'

'Georgi?' enquired the Master.

The President of Bynzekistan slowly set down his cutlery and wiped his mouth, then he looked at everyone around the table in turn, finishing with Alaric, seated to his right. He took a deep breath.

'The plans for the Blue Slynex operation came to me about two years ago. They outlined a scheme to oust the ELF from these parts, through a series of undercover jobs. In a nutshell, it involved the transfer of information from so-called 'government contacts' to ELF operatives - we were weaving the ELF in a complex and inescapable web of misinformation - everything from plans for nuclear weapons, new energy schemes, misdirected government funds, false allegations of treason, the works. The ELF were renowned for using cryptic messages and emblems, so we came up with one of our own, so the operatives would know each other from the ELF men. The emblem was the Blue Slynex. The ELF were told that they weren't to accept anything from anyone unless they had a Blue Slynex on their uniform. The morning of the shooting, a Bynzeki Intelligence Agent named Rin Dormilov was to deliver the final shocking piece of the puzzle to the ELF - all members of which were inside a white courier van that drove into Central Square. Inside the briefcase he had was the only true thing we fed the ELF - an outline of the Blue Slynex operation. Dormilov gave them the information, blew up the van, as planned. The one thing we didn't count on was our Mylo Gorbachev here, a known member of the Blue Slynex initiative, suddenly gaining a conscience - and killing Dormilov with a sniper bullet.'

'I grew no conscience,' intruded Gorbachev, glancing at Volerun. 'I was betrayed.'

'How so?' asked the Master.

'I was meant to deliver fake plans for a nuclear energy facility in Caminhul just outside Bynzek City to an ELF cell from Bazalonia. I dropped the package, as planned, but my lift, Voleron here, didn't show up. When the Bazalonians saw just one guy, not two as they'd been told to expect, they flipped, and started firing all sorts of shit at me. I grabbed the package and bolted. I took the next flight to Bazalonia and dumped the package at the ELF safehouse. I could have been killed. All for one lousy below-the-radar government siege.'

'Well,' said the Master. 'I think the Blue Slynex initiative was a disaster.'

'Really?' said Alaric with a snigger.

'Quiet,' the Master said, and his tone silenced the Emperor immediately.

'Your Grace,' the Master said, turning to the Duchess of Elyria-Lorain, 'you've been very quiet. Do you have anything to add...?'

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

OOC: What do you think, guys? I'm thinking we should almost wrap this up - I have a few ideas for new RPs I'd like to start, and now that the Blue Slynex thing has been covered it's probably run its race, even though we just reached 100 posts and I know we could squeeze out 100 more! But it's up to you guys - just let me know what you think :)

OOC: I agree...this is about played out, but maybe a couple of more threads could bounce off of it. I like the under-sea city/state idea. Maybe Xeraph's scientific discoveries out in their holdings in the Typhon Expanse can be blended with the Romanii expertise in ocean floor dwelling. Some qusi-hi-tech stuff. And of course a sinister thing going on with it all......

'You're saying you didn't know this Kell was involved in any kind of terrorist activities? How did you know him? Did he ever engage in anything you thought suspicious?'


"Exactly... I didn't know he was in the ELF, I only knew his phone number and that he was in Bynzekistan. That's it. I met him when I was at University in Fauxhan, I didn't know what he was studying, which was weird, but yeah, he fitted right in, and so we accepted him as a student. The only thing weird that was suspicious was that he was always unavailable on Tuesday nights. He'd never tell us what he did those nights, and usually cracked a joke and steered the conversation away. Though he did have a few weird beliefsm I can't remember what they were but I do remember thinking they were weird."

bump for later postage

"Exactly... I didn't know he was in the ELF, I only knew his phone number and that he was in Bynzekistan. That's it. I met him when I was at University in Fauxhan, I didn't know what he was studying, which was weird, but yeah, he fitted right in, and so we accepted him as a student. The only thing weird that was suspicious was that he was always unavailable on Tuesday nights. He'd never tell us what he did those nights, and usually cracked a joke and steered the conversation away. Though he did have a few weird beliefsm I can't remember what they were but I do remember thinking they were weird."

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, Ms Tresomme, but Jarman Kell never studied at Fauxhan. We believe he may have studied in Xeraph, Elyria-Lorain or perhaps in one of the many lands of the Empire. We also know that Tuesday night meetings of the ELF are held regularly to induce and initiate new members. Now - did Kell believe in any form of God? Was he patriotic? Did he value the self and the individual? Was he a pessimist? Did he have an interest in the arts?..."

'Your Grace,' the Master said, turning to the Duchess of Elyria-Lorain, 'you've been very quiet. Do you have anything to add...?'

The Duchess sighed. 'This has all been pointless. The ELF merely siezed on the ineptitude of a well-intentioned but badly-executed initiative of the Bynzekistan government. We've all been set against one another in some way. My thoughts are that we should stop bickering, stop fretting over the past, and look to the future. My nation and Xeraph already have a well-formed relationship with Bynzekistan. I believe the Bazalonians are beating out a treaty in Bynzek City as we speak. As for you two,' she said, looking at Gorbachev and Volerun, 'do you think you could let go of each other's throats just long enough to talk to the Intelligence Service and figure something out regarding compensation and your contracts?'

The two agents nodded sullenly.

'Excellent.' The Duchess beamed. President Bynschev, until that moment, had never realised quite how beautiful she was. She simply radiated eminence, class, and unadulterated beauty. He cleared his throat.

'Now,' the President said. 'There is the little matter of the ELF. I believe we can prevent further insurgence by stepping up our defences a little and making slight adjustments and amendments to some of our military policies. I was hoping you might be able to help us with that, Emperor Alaric...'

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, Ms Tresomme, but Jarman Kell never studied at Fauxhan. We believe he may have studied in Xeraph, Elyria-Lorain or perhaps in one of the many lands of the Empire. We also know that Tuesday night meetings of the ELF are held regularly to induce and initiate new members. Now - did Kell believe in any form of God? Was he patriotic? Did he value the self and the individual? Was he a pessimist? Did he have an interest in the arts?..."

"Sorry?! Oh, yes. Sorry. I spent a year studying in Xeraph, my degree was from Fauxhan National Uni but I studied in part in Xeraph. I'm trying my best but it's hard to answer all these questions under pressure like this... Where were we.. Oh, that's right. He believed in some kind of god, I don't remember what he called it, but I wouldn't call it a version of Christianity. He did think that one individual could make alot of difference, though he seemed to think that alot of things needed a change for the better. You have to understand I was niave then and didn't know better, the major reason I had called him was not only to catch up but to see if he had become more sensible. As for his interests, he didn't really have an interest in the arts, he was an avid movie watcher, would get videos and go to cinema. He favoured Comedies... He said something about needing to be cheering up from this depressing world."

"Sorry?! Oh, yes. Sorry. I spent a year studying in Xeraph, my degree was from Fauxhan National Uni but I studied in part in Xeraph. I'm trying my best but it's hard to answer all these questions under pressure like this... Where were we.. Oh, that's right. He believed in some kind of god, I don't remember what he called it, but I wouldn't call it a version of Christianity. He did think that one individual could make alot of difference, though he seemed to think that alot of things needed a change for the better. You have to understand I was niave then and didn't know better, the major reason I had called him was not only to catch up but to see if he had become more sensible. As for his interests, he didn't really have an interest in the arts, he was an avid movie watcher, would get videos and go to cinema. He favoured Comedies... He said something about needing to be cheering up from this depressing world."

'Interesting...' Hek said, and at that moment his pager went off. He checked it, looked at Emma and said, 'I'm sorry, Ms Tresomme, but I have to go. We'll continue this later.'

Hek Mulang walked out into the central control room of Bynzeki Intelligence HQ, to see two black-clad peacekeepers drag in a wet, bloody and sick-looking character. They took him over to where Runar Mirnon, head of the BIS, was standing, and dropped him at Mirnon's feet. Mirnon looked up at the soldiers.

'What is the meaning of this? Who is this wretched character?'

'On a tip from an unidentified source, we found him in a rundown motel in the backstreets of Bynzek City,' said one of the men. 'He was under our nose the whole time.'

'Who?' asked Mirnon.

'This is Jarman Kell, sir...'

Emma, was sure that Hek leaving the interrogation room was a good thing. It meant that something very important was happening, which means they were getting closer to whatever it is that was happening in the city which meant basically she was going to be released soon.

Jacque still was there and shifted to the side to let Hek through and then shifted back. The room was quiet, you could hear more than a pin drop, you could hear everything, particularily her breathing.

It was quite unnerving for her

'Interesting...' Hek said, and at that moment his pager went off. He checked it, looked at Emma and said, 'I'm sorry, Ms Tresomme, but I have to go. We'll continue this later.'

Hek Mulang walked out into the central control room of Bynzeki Intelligence HQ, to see two black-clad peacekeepers drag in a wet, bloody and sick-looking character. They took him over to where Runar Mirnon, head of the BIS, was standing, and dropped him at Mirnon's feet. Mirnon looked up at the soldiers.

'What is the meaning of this? Who is this wretched character?'

'On a tip from an unidentified source, we found him in a rundown motel in the backstreets of Bynzek City,' said one of the men. 'He was under our nose the whole time.'

'Who?' asked Mirnon.

'This is Jarman Kell, sir...'

Kell coughed. He'd just been dragged from his motel room - literally dragged - to this sodden secret service agency. It was bad enough that he had to be in this forsaken country in the first place. All the Earth Liberation Front wanted to do was create a little mayhem and massacre a few innocent civilians - was that really too much to ask?

Now here he was, before the big wig in charge of Bynzeki intelligence. Mirnon? Was that his name? More like Minion, Kell thought.

'It's an honour to meet you, Mr. Kell,' Runar Mirnon, chief of Bynzeki Intelligence, said. 'We've heard so much about you from your girlfriend.'

Kell perked up at this. Girlfriend? What gir-

From the other side of the room there was a voice. No, two voices. But one in particular that Kell recognised instantly. It was that bitch he fooled into loving him. Now - what was her name?

'Your friend, Miss Tresomme over there, has been assisting us with our enquiries. But now that you're here we don't really need her any more.' Mirnon raised his voice. 'You're free to go Miss Tresomme. Thank you for your help!'

Emma came striding over towards the front door, flanked by two agents. As she passed, she spotted Kell kneeling on the floor. She half-turned before being grabbed by her guards, then screamed 'You lying bastard! How dare you... liar... thief... rogue... why... fuc... murd...!' More was yelled, but it was muffled by the guards, then the door, then smothered by the outside world...

Mirnon then turned and grabbed Jarman Kell by the neck and practically threw him into the nearest interrogation room. He stuck his head out long enough to yell to the nearest agent, 'Get Mr. Nuk!', before closing the door.

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

Mr. Nuk had been sleeping. He was angry. But Mr. Nuk was rarely anything other than angry. So now he was sitting across from some other random sonuvabitch who'd been charged for high treason. Mr. Nuk sighed. Apparently they'd asked this fucker a bunch of questions and he wasn't budging. He would now.

'Right,' said Mr. Nuk. 'We've tried everything else. Now we try this.' He pulled out a bottle of expensive iliano liqueur and thumped it on the table. Jarman Kell couldn't hold down a laugh.

'That?' Kell chuckled. 'You're going to get me drunk and then ask me lots of questions? Ha ha ha!' Now he was belly laughing.

'Yes - in a manner of speaking. You see, Mr... Kell, was it? Iliano liqueur is one of the most potent liquors in the world, yet is no more harmful than any other beverage. However, when-' Nuk pulled out a hypodermic needle '-taken intravenously, iliano liqueur is one of the most deadly substances in the known world. Now. Tell me. Where are your ELF contacts...?'

Jacque made sure that Emma did not do anything that she would later regret like kiling him which certainly would leave Bynzeki-Bazalonian relations strained. However with everything that needed to be done done. Jacque and Emma were escorted out of the BIS HQ and into an awaiting car taking them back to the hotel.

"I don't blame you or sir Richard for what happened to me today." She said almost Zen about the situation, however that was abritly changed... "However I blame that worm, Jarman. I hope they tear his heart out with a spoon!"

Jacque looked at her and said "No you don't and I don't think now is not a good time to go all movie quotes. He'll have enough on his plate with the BIS, anyway, it's best not to think about that, you'll end up becoming like one of the ELF. Which reminds me, I need to talk with BSIO about seeing if there's an ELF prescence in Bazalonia...." He drifted off thinking about things that are better left unsaid.

Jacque made sure that Emma did not do anything that she would later regret like kiling him which certainly would leave Bynzeki-Bazalonian relations strained. However with everything that needed to be done done. Jacque and Emma were escorted out of the BIS HQ and into an awaiting car taking them back to the hotel.

"I don't blame you or sir Richard for what happened to me today." She said almost Zen about the situation, however that was abritly changed... "However I blame that worm, Jarman. I hope they tear his heart out with a spoon!"

Jacque looked at her and said "No you don't and I don't think now is not a good time to go all movie quotes. He'll have enough on his plate with the BIS, anyway, it's best not to think about that, you'll end up becoming like one of the ELF. Which reminds me, I need to talk with BSIO about seeing if there's an ELF prescence in Bazalonia...." He drifted off thinking about things that are better left unsaid.

President Bynschev leaned back in his chair in his office. It was 3am and he'd just had a shower after returning home from Romis. Everyone had left in reasonable spirits. Bynzekistan now had a trade and military arrangement with Xeraph and the Elyrians, the two Blue Slynex operatives were being offered their contracts back, and the Romani were interested in becoming more involved in national issues.

Bynschev had also been informed that the spokesman of the Earth Liberation Front had been captured and was now spouting all his contacts' names and numbers.

It had been a long day. The President downed a glass of that expensive Larylen liquor, walked over to the big couch in his office and lay down.

Within minutes, Georgi Rufinschky Bynschev, President of Bynzekistan, was asleep.

((OOC: I think that's a good place to end this - what do you guys reckon?))

I'll take that as a yes :)

It's official then - THREAD CLOSED.