NationStates Jolt Archive

Nadia moved her left hand across her body and took Krika's. She made eye contact with the Amestrian and smiled weakly. "Thank you."

She had taken a liking to Krika since they had first met, she was very nice. She felt a sort of intimacy with her.

"Sion didn't do anything... he just took me to the patio, I was already drunk then."

"Sion didn't do anything... he just took me to the patio, I was already drunk then."

"I guessed that..." Although he was rather careless to let you keep drinking that stuff once he had taken you to the patio.

Krika sighed. "Nadia, pourquoi vous êtes-vous presque tué? Why did you almost commit suicide? Et ne me dites pas un certain conte triste. And do not tell me a certain sad tale. I know what is troubling you...it seems as if the entire world has conspired to destroy everything you have known and loved while going out of its way to keep you intact..."

Krika began to rub her forehead. She had been so full of energy a few moments ago but now see felt so very tired. "By the way, while you were out, your body slowly being poisoned by your own foolish actions, did you dream anything or was it all nothingness, a taste of non-existence?"

Nadia clasped Krika's hand tightly. "I was just... out. I was drunk on the patio and then I woke up in here," she said. "I didn't dream or anything."

She raised her head, still weak from the ordeal. "How did you know about me almost committing suicide?" She had barely mentioned it to Sion, let alone the Amestrian agents.

Nadia clasped Krika's hand tightly. "I was just... out. I was drunk on the patio and then I woke up in here," she said. "I didn't dream or anything."

"Then in a way you were dead. The brief moment between conscious experiences, that moment you have lost, that moment you cannot recall, that moment you cannot place..." Krika snapped her fingers. "That is what death is like, that is the closest thing there is to it, a dreamless sleep..."

She raised her head, still weak from the ordeal. "How did you know about me almost committing suicide?"

Krika looked surprised. She had meant suicide as a metaphor. "What are you talking about? Do you mean that you intentionally poisoned your body?"

Nadia was shocked. "No! I was referring to when I almost killed myself in my quarters. I got the letter from Sara... Miss Liscel... that said that the Doomies were bombing Kahanistan... that millions were dead or dying... right before I took the DHC. I held my sidearm to my forehead, I was going to pull the trigger, but then I remembered the DHC, I was going to give it a chance."

The thoughts of death penetrated Nadia's mind. She had never really thought of what it was like to be dead. To actually view an experience in that light was shocking. She held Krika's hand tighter.

Nadia was shocked. "No! I was referring to when I almost killed myself in my quarters. I got the letter from Sara... Miss Liscel... that said that the Doomies were bombing Kahanistan... that millions were dead or dying... right before I took the DHC. I held my sidearm to my forehead, I was going to pull the trigger, but then I remembered the DHC, I was going to give it a chance."

She held Krika's hand tighter.

Nadia's words seemed to disturb Krika. She was still and silent until she felt the squeeze from Nadia's hand. Krika did not know what to say, her mind raced. I don't know what to say... I have to say something, I have to do something... I can't just say 'everything will be ok'... What do I do?! Almost instinctively she reached out her hand and with the tips of her fingers began to gently stroke Nadia's face, as if Nadia were a child. The expression on Krika's face was very tender and maternal.

"What do you think of your existence?"

Nadia had never thought about her existence in that way. What does she mean? "Well..."

Nadia fumbled about for the right words. Is she asking about my life? She must be... "It's been... pretty normal until recently, then things I cared about were taken away from me... and now that's happening again."

She had not heard about Kahanistan's cease-fire with CAD, so as far as she knew, the Doomies were sacking Kahanistan, murdering the population and ravaging the cities. I'll never be able to put my life on track...

"Nadia, do you want to exist?"

"Yes, I want to live. I want to live and one day marry and have children. I want to raise them in a safe environment... not in a constant warzone. I don't want to give up my career..." A tear ran slowly down Nadia's soft face.

"I don't want to die here, if that's what you're asking. I... I feel my life's gotten harder, less stable... the last four or five months."

Krika took off her flowered hat and placed it on Nadia's chest. It was a nice beige hat topped with an enormous crimson red, black, and white flower.

"Do you like my hat Nadia?"

Nadia nodded and picked up the hat. "It's cute," she said. "Yes, I do."

What is she getting at?

Krika smiled. "I bought it at Mer Claire, it’s a delightful town along the Mediterranean Sea. The beaches aren't open and exposed, they are enclosed by these magnificent forested cliffs which provide shelter for those who wish to take refuge from the heat of the sun... Not many people vacation there because of the rocky landscape and because Central's regional environmental policies are aimed at discouraging development in that area, so it is isolated and quiet. A place to wash away ones troubles...particularly after a very traumatic experience... Although my address is in Central (a government funded apartment) I am saving up to purchase a little place in Mer Claire for myself. It is a place I know will be there in the future, it is a source of stability in my life...a very tumultuous life, moved from one place to another at the beck and call of faceless bureaucrats, a mere pawn sometimes..." And sometimes the mere pawn of mere pawns.

Krika shrugged. "I suggest you find someplace where you can plan the rebuilding of your life...and your future. Even if your country survives it might be best for you to move your family and home... It might be best to settle in a country that is safe and peaceful...you after all where you are now because of your inability to deal with the uncertainties of your life in Kahanistan (and its constant wars). There are numerous nations where you could live and maintain your Kahanistanian citizenship... If your country should emerge from this latest catastrophe intact, do you really want to return home to the smell of ash and corpses?"

"No..." said Nadia. "Maybe find somewhere abroad... somewhere close to home." She hoped that the people had elected a president who wouldn't get them into wars every two weeks, but she wanted stability in her life, just in case. It was the absence of a contingency that had gotten her into the shitty mess she was in, unable to move and live normally.

"But on the other hand... Kahanistan is my home. I've lived there for 31 years..." She was a little set in her ways, but what Krika had said made sense. Maybe a place in Amestria... sort of a backup home where I can stay when things are too much... another basket to put my eggs in, so to speak.

Sion sat alll this watching this outpouring of emotions, not saying a word. His own past came back to him, forcing him the temporarily zone out.

-Flashback-

"Mom?"

"Yes, Sion?"

"When we will land?"

"Soon enough honey."

All of a sudden, the plane shook, and the oxygen masks came down. There was a roaring noise, and the world went black before Sion opened his eyes again.

He was in a hospital, with a woman lying in a bed talking to someone else.

Damn it, it's getting realer by the fucking day...

Nadia turned her head toward Sion. She could often tell when someone was under emotional stress, she was very sensitive.

"Are you OK?" she asked weakly. She was feeling a little better than when she had first awakened in the hospital, but probably not good enough to be released yet.

"I'll be fine, don't worry."

"Are you feeling any better Nadia?" Krika asked. "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

Nadia nodded. "Yeah... something to drink. Juice, maybe." She tried to get up, sitting up and turning so her legs were over the edge of the hospital bed.

"I'll be OK."

Sion walked over, taking a look at the machine that was hooked into Nadia's arm. He manipulated some buttons, and the words flashed across the LCD screen in full view of the other two people.

Blood Test...confirmed...BAL...nominal...Serum Effective...

"Well, you've be a bit weak for a few hours, but you'll be fine. Here..."

Sion took a tube out of a rack, and removed Nadia's IV needle carefully, using a cotton ball to steady it. He then took the tube, which resembled a bottle of glue-stick, and rolled it over the hole caused by the IV, healing it in seconds. He then looked at Krika, handing her a $1 credit bill.

"There's a small vending machine right outside, there should be a bottle of juice in it."

Nadia staggered over to the vending machine, and steadied herself against it, still weak. Forgetting she had no Velkyan currency on her, she sat down on the floor next to it.

Krika got up and was about to leave the room when she realized Nadia had not told her what manner of juice she preferred... Does she prefer apple juice, orange juice, lemonade, grape juice...? What if she would rather have vegetable juice rather then fruit juice? Krika paused near the door and turned back to Nadia. "Nadia, what type of juice do you like?"

Sion looked at Krika, puzzled.

Who the hell's she talking to?

Instead of commenting, he walked up to Nadia, helping her up, supporting her and placing her back on the bed.

Nadia had heard, but barely. "Orange juice," she said. This had lots of vitamins in it and was good for her situation.

She sat down in the bed and waited.

Krika went to the vending machine, inserted the credit bill, and hit the button for orange juice. There was the typical "tunk" as the can of juice hit the button of the machine. Krika retrieved it and returned to the side of Nadia's bed, handing it to her.

Krika smiled. "Here you go."

(OOC: Fluid time, Ames.)

While Krika went down the hall to get the juice, Sion turned to Nadia, putting an arm around her.

"Nadia, I think it's safe to say that we should hold back on the booze for the rest of the time we're here, kapish?"

"Yeah," said Nadia. The O.J. carried vitamins, fruit sugar and a quick boost of energy.

She didn't feel like getting wasted again anytime soon, not after that scare and waking up with an IV inside her.

"We should be landing in..." she looked at her watch, "six, seven hours?" It was 2:10 AM.

Sion looked outside. In was still dark, but the port was clearly visable and closer than they were on the patio.

"Less, maybe three, four hours."

Nadia smiled. In three hours she would be in Southport, seeing the city. She finished off her O.J. and tossed the bottle into a waste basket.

"I suppose I should get some sleep, then." She lay down on the hospital bed, hoping the doctor would release her when the ship landed.

Sion pulled the covers over Nadia, and then looked up at Krika, saying "Shall we?" motioning towards the door.

(OOC: As Krika is only five feet tall Sion would probably be looking down at her unless he was bent over.)

"In a moment." Krika replied. She leaned over and gave Nadia a brief and gentle kiss upon the forehead. "Pleasant dreams vous pauvre fille innocente*."

Krika then nodded to Sion and followed him from the room.

(*OOC: you poor innocent girl)

(OOC: He was.)

When they were out of earshot of the hospital, Sion looked down at Krika.

"Sorry about all this, if I would have reached her sooner, this wouldn't have happened. I knew she had a weakness for narcotics, she nearly overdosed on DHC back in her cabin. Look, what I'm trying to say is, please, keep an eye on her when I can't, ok? That IS what you're here for, right?"

Nadia lay down and closed her eyes. She smiled softly as Krika kissed her. She's so sweet. Within three minutes, she was fast asleep. She drifted off into her psyche...

She found herself laying next to Sara, being held tightly. She wanted something from her, something that disturbed her. She felt a sense of physical and emotional attraction to her, and it scared the hell out of her. Every time she had attached to someone, she had been used and casually discarded, or in the case of less callous individuals, dumped without being used sexually, or simply told there was no room in the other person's life for a relationship before it got that far.

As she lay under the covers, she felt pleasure as Sara held and touched her. As the pleasure reached a climax, Nadia found herself back in the infirmary on the Velkyan ship...

Holy hell. Nadia sat bolt upright and wondered if she had the same feelings for Sara that Sara had for her. It can't be... can it? I've never been attracted to a woman before... While she did not subscribe to the anti-gay ideologies she had been exposed to, she had always identified as a "hetero" woman. This was a blow to a part of her identity...

She got up and walked back to her quarters, still trying to clear her head. The fact that she had experienced pleasure at being touched by a man was enough to convince her that she wasn't a lesbian, at least not in the same way that Sara was, who had never liked men. But is this attraction to Sara a phase? Is there something special about her? Certainly, she was pretty, but many of her female friends were, and she had never been attracted to any of them like that.

Nadia took a long drink from a nearby fountain, showered, and changed into a sweater and thick trousers. She brought her luggage, walked up to the deck, sat down, and began to think more deeply about her feelings for Sara. It probably wasn't going to be that long before the ship landed...

"Sorry about all this, if I would have reached her sooner, this wouldn't have happened. I knew she had a weakness for narcotics, she nearly overdosed on DHC back in her cabin. Look, what I'm trying to say is, please, keep an eye on her when I can't, ok? That IS what you're here for, right?"

"No." Krika replied coldly. "We were here to assist the Lieutenant Colonel in insurrectionary, intelligence, and humanitarian activities in the former slave state of Kraven. Since Kraven no longer exists I am currently awaiting reassignment. The Lieutenant Colonel’s life, well being and general happiness are officially no concern to the Amestrian State." That was a complete lie, but the truth was out of the question.

Krika's cold expression was then replaced by a warm and tender smile. "Don't worry, I shall look after her. I am not about to abandon such a kind and vulnerable person to the ravages of the abyss... I the meantime I suggest you tell your buddies to not give her any more cans of that industrial liquid that passes for a celebratory alcoholic drink."

"Though I don't believe you spooks (military slang for intel officers) for one second, I trust you'll take care of her. As for your hatred of Selkan Vodka, well, it's an aqquired taste." He said with a smile.

Nadia sat down, watching the land approaching the ship, deep in thought. The wind swept through her fine blonde hair and brushed against her face. She was oblivious to it as she pondered the meaning of her latest dream.

She only hoped that if Sion or someone else looking for her saw her room empty, with no luggage, they would look for her on the deck.

"Though I don't believe you spooks (military slang for intel officers) for one second, I trust you'll take care of her. As for your hatred of Selkan Vodka, well, it's an aqquired taste." He said with a smile.

"Believe what you will, it does not matter," Krika replied simply. "As for Selkan Vodka, it is nothing more then Victory Gin*."

(OOC: A 1984 reference, in George Orwell’s story Victory Gin is an extremely strong yet tasteless alcoholic beverage of exceedingly poor quality. The main protagonist relishes the chance to taste wine upon being presented with the opportunity, only to discover that years of Victory Gin drinking have dulled his sense of taste and he is incapable of enjoying it.)

(OOC: Actually, my vodka is often flavored with fruit and vanilla.)

"Suit yourself." Sion waved to her before moving towards an elevator.

Nadia recovered her laptop from her luggage and opened it to check her mail. It wasn't the Amestrian high-tech laptop, but she hoped Sara would know she wouldn't have constant access to it and email her to both her "usual" address and her new one.

There was another email from her mother.

Nadia,

The war with MassPwnage is over. General Valens managed to offer a peace that didn't result in surrender, but the concession also meant that hundreds of thousands of Pwnage soldiers were freed up to fight in ViZion.

Shortly after that, he was sworn in as President. The news said he's trying to give the Kahanistan military a makeover, make it less susceptible to CAD attacks. Most of the nation's resources, however, are being used to rebuild damaged infrastructure. Only a few trillion shekels were set aside for recreating our military. They're phasing out the MiG, from what I hear. You'll likely be piloting an F-22 or F-35, but we're also importing Czardaian bombers.

The Kahanistan superdreadnaught is making its first combat mission, in Gilabad. The Beltway and its allies are attacking them, and Kahanistan sent a token military force to assist them, only about 30 warships and 50,000 troops. They brought Chucky as a sign that they won't lose, in case you don't know about it, it's larger than anything in the Gholgoth fleets.

A bit unwieldy, but speaking as an engineer, I'd say the ship is more of a psychological weapon than a tactical one. If I may make a Stargate reference, "This is a weapon of terror, it's made to intimidate the enemy." A Freekish SD, or almost any other SD for that matter... "This is a weapon of war. It's made to kill your enemy."

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that we're OK, and I'm glad to hear you won't be going to Kraven. Tell me about Velkya when you get back, I've never been there.

Love,
Mom

Nadia wrote back to her mother.

Glad to hear you're all right. Didn't know you were watching Stargate now, since when do you take any interest in my interests? :)

I'm on the coast now, still on the Velkyan ship. We're going to disembark for shore leave for a few days, but I'll make sure to drop back in at home for at least a few days before I go anywhere again.

If I remember what I read about the SD, it's intended as a flagship, and to be imposing at sea, so I'd agree it's a weapon of terror. The 39" guns are a little much, but they're bigger than Freekish guns, it is designed to say, basically, I have a bigger gun than AMF, go home and cower under your rock. It's also good for the morale of anyone in it, they have little fear of being killed.

I'm glad about Kraven, too, I haven't had any nightmares about it since I was told they were beaten. I'll see you soon.

Love,
Nadia

Nadia found she could access her new email account by her "usual" laptop. There was another letter from Sara inside the mailbox.

Sklenova accessed her secure e-mail and opened Liscel's letter. Why have me go through the hassle of getting the laptop from the Amestrians?

She began to read the letter from her friend. The ship was, by now, very close to port.

Dear Nadia,

You took more then ONE pill didn’t you! You supposed to take just ONE! Taking more then one can result in injury or a fatal poisoning. Also, multiple dosages do not deliver additional pleasure or mood improvement (that is to prevent people from inadvertently poisoning themselves), they just dull the senses and confuse the mind… Please Nadia, I know you must feel alone, overwhelmed, and depressed, but please be more responsible. You do not want to destroy your life on a mere momentary impulse.

How are you feeling? Are you okay? I want to know how you are doing.

Doubtlessly you have been informed of the good news that Kraven has surrendered. (you can sleep easier now as you no longer have to fear perishing on those fields of black ice). No doubt you are as overjoyed as I am by this happy turn of events.

As for the Velkyans and their secretive monitoring of our communications and their information blackouts... I have no idea what they could be up too (assuming there is an agenda and this is just Military secrecy run amok). Keep both eyes open.

The Convention in Torontia has so far been turbulent. The leadership of the Kahanistanian delegation, your friend General Levitt, is completely under the influence of al-Ghazi (who has fled Kahanistan, and has not been heard from since). She seems to have swallowed all those ridicules lies about AOA ordering secret killings hook, line and sinker and for some reason has malevolently fixated upon me and my family. She brought a book, On the Amestrian’s and Their Lies, written by al-Ghazi, to the Convention and began showing it to the other delegates… In particular passages filled with the most hateful and vile slander…

(Attachment: a digital picture of the torn remains of Levitt’s book).

(Attachment: a review by a respected neutral online critic who refers to it as “a miserable and poorly written hate filled screed without any redeeming social worth”, “a monument to paranoid delusion” and “the product of a deranged mind.”)

(Attachment: Some of the more vitriolic pages directed against the Liscel family.)

Levitt later arranged an attempt by the Novan delegation to kidnap me… They surrounded me with weapons and attempted to seize me… If the Xirniumite Foreign Minister had not intervened the SS would have come to my defense and there would have been a bloody shoot out (the Novans where later expelled from the Convention by the Xirniumites for that outrage).

(Attachment: An online news article about the attempted kidnapping)

Then Levitt faked an assassination attempt on her life…a Kahanistani Major was “caught” illegally entering the hotel with faked documents baring my signature (forged of course). The Major absurdly claimed he was an Amestrian Secret Agent from Military Intelligence on my orders to kill the General… The Xirniumites saw through his story and the-would-be fake assassin is on his way to a Xirniumite prison cell.

If Levitt contacts you do not believe anything she has to say about me. She will attempt to poison you against me. Every word will be a lie.

Given the current situation in Kahanistan your home has most likely been destroyed and you find yourself once again the wanderer. If you want to be safe and you feel as if you have no where else to go then shelter at my apartment in Central (I have already filled out the necessary paperwork for you to assume temporary joint occupancy), I most likely will be unable to greet you personally given my participation in the Torontian Convention, but feel free to make yourself at home…just don’t throw out my magazines or touch my paintings.

Things will probably be difficult for you financially given your situation. To help you rebuild your life I have sent you one… Your Swiss Bank Account Number is 365-769-443 and your code name is once again Mr. La Boe'tie.

(Link: The Homepage of the Northern Bank of Switzerland.)

I am here for you Nadia; I will not allow you to be torn asunder by the nihilistic forces of the uncaring universe. If only I could be with you now, I am so sorry I cannot sit next to you and hold your hand, I am so sorry I cannot comfort you in person… I only hope the solace and assistance I can bring from afar is enough.

♥Love♥
♥Your Good Friend Sara Liscel♥

The ship began to slow, and a look outside would reveal the rising sun and the port facilities of Southport.

"Attention all crew, the ship has docked, begin all docking procedures."

Nadia began to write back to Sara. The letter she had just read was long and confusing. She no longer knew what was going on. She decided now that she would have to confront Liscel head-on in order to find the truth for herself.

Sara,

How are you finding out what's happening with me on the ship? I was pretty depressed when I heard the Doomies were bombing us, I just got another letter from my mom. I think if my apartment were destroyed she'd have told me. Thanks for the offer, though, I'll probably come and see you in the next few weeks.

I'm doing fine now, my apartment's in one piece and I have a date in a few hours, but I have plenty of time to write. I think you've totally misunderstood Rachel, I understand that you don't like her, but she's not influenced by General al-Ghazi. When we last talked, she referred to him as a crackhead, and said she'd only gotten that book because she didn't look at the author's name. That said, she does believe that there were illegal killings, and she had hoped the book would have convincing arguments for her case. I'd heard that al-Ghazi was nuts, but I had no idea how paranoid he was, or how outright crazy he was.

I'm more hesitant to believe that Rachel would try to set someone up for murder. That said, I don't think you had anything to do with the assassin, either. Something is fishy. Trying to kidnap you? This is my friend, I've known her for eight years. Novacom does not have a concept of diplomatic immunity, perhaps you ran afoul of General Kitas somehow? All I know is he pulled some "boneheaded stunt" and got himself kicked out. He is more likely the one who orchestrated the attack on you. It's even possible that he sent the assassin, but Rachel seemed to think he likes her. He probably wanted to frame the Amestrians, he seemed to not like you, or me.

Thank you for the kind gestures. I hope that I will not need them, but it is always good to have a safety net in case of the unforeseeable.

Love,
Nadia

Nadia decided to write to Rachel. This was the only way she could get the truth from both sides. She had defended her friend, now was the time to get the facts straight from the horse's mouth.

Rachel,

What happened at the meeting? Sara honestly believes that there were no secret killings ordered in BC by the AOA. I don't know why Foster was let go, I'd rather not believe my government would let someone off for political reasons, but I don't know what to believe anymore.

I want to know what happened with General Kitas, the assassin who claimed to be Amestrian and tried to kill you, and I just want to know that you had nothing to do with any of the skullduggery that seems to be pervading the Convention. I know I sound like I'm accusing you of something... I don't want to sound like that.

Sara's really nice, at least to me. She's offered to help me find a new place in Amestria if my home were destroyed, but I don't think it is. I know you think she's crazy, but you probably just left a bad impression on her with that book, and trying to show that her country may have been involved in something unsavory. Under different circumstances she'd probably try to seduce you. :)

I think we need to meet at home when we can. It's been a while, and we can sort out this mess before things get ugly.

Until next time,
Nadia

Nadia then checked her new Swiss bank account, accessing the home page, and inputting the requested account number and code name. What is she giving me?

Inside her account was 300,000 Gold Hobbes (worth 384,000 USD).

Holy crap! I could retire on this. But Nadia wasn't retiring anytime soon. She was only 31, what would she do with the next 70+ years of her life?

She knew what she would do with the cash, though. Her car was older than she was, she would get it replaced with something that could use biofuels, maybe get a gardening vat to hang out her window.* Of course, she'd stow away some, if not most, of it for emergencies.

With the ship docking, she headed for the exit of the vessel to wait for Sion.

(*Because of space constraints in Kahanistan, most Kahanistanians live in very tall apartment buildings, upwards of 100 stories. This is not very conducive to gardening, so some people buy huge ceramic vats that hook to the inside of the apartment, and cling to the side of the building. These gardening vats are then filled with dirt and vegetables or flowers can be planted in them. Small trees are sometimes grown, too, but they are more difficult to manage.)

---

Kahanistanian Airspace, National Airlines Flight 153

Approaching Al-Bahr, Kahanistan

Brigadier General Rachel Levitt sat on the aircraft, eating week-old popcorn and watching a boring movie. So, this is what I get for flying on the cheap. Well, at least the Amestrians aren't going to get me here. She opened her laptop and accessed her e-mail.

Ah, a letter from Nadia. She decided to reply immediately, taking her mind off the drudgery of the flight.

Nadia, glad to hear you're OK.

Well, General Kitas saw the bruises on my throat where Liscel grabbed me, and he decided to go off and try to arrest Liscel, if you didn't know, Novacom does not recognize diplomatic immunity. This triggered an international incident with Xirnium, which was hosting the conference.

Unless you call Liscel taking my book and going mad, or me showing General Kitas my injuries, to be skullduggery, no, I had nothing to do with it. I also had nothing to do with the assassin, maybe it was a Novan, maybe it was an Amestrian, I don't know. I decided to get out of that conference as quickly as I could.

As for Liscel, all I can say is, listen to your gut. You would know her better than I do. I'll try to not let the hostility between me and Liscel hurt our friendship.

I agree, we should meet at home, when do you think you'll be getting home?

Still alive,
Rachel

She clicked the "send" key, replying to her friend's earlier letter. She would keep her word, she wouldn't let her hostility toward Liscel interfere with her friendship with Nadia... but she did have plans for Liscel that were not pretty.

She sat back and thought about Nadia's letter, where Nadia had said that under different circumstances, Liscel would have tried to seduce her. She viewed the scenario as extremely possible, given what she knew of the Amestrian's tendency to approach attractive women, such as Nadia at Project Alpha, or Gilda at the conference.

Well, she is pretty... but, as they say, beauty is only skin deep. She reminded herself that Sara Liscel was a liar and a dangerous, unstable personality.

The plane landed at Al-Bahr International Airport, where Rachel boarded a taxi to take her back to her apartment, where she hadn't been since the Freekish invasion. The city is pretty well rebuilt.

Sion shook his enlongationg hair from eyes as he slung his bag over his shoulder, looking up at his home city. He scanned the shoreline, as tourists went to and fro, some stopping to admire the fleet that had just pulled into the harbor, posing for pictures with jubilant sailors and soldiers, home at last after such a long time. A Velkyan flag flowed over the second port parking garage, as Sion entered it, brandishing a key labeled Falken. He walked over to a silver motorcycle, with a black streak which read Reaper. He hopped on, stowing his bag before jetting out of the garage and towards Nadia, who was standing outside the ship.

He snuck up behind her, and tapped her on the shoulder.

Nadia turned around, saw who it was behind her, and smiled. "I've been waiting for you," she said. She noticed the motorcycle. "Oh, lord. You're a biker?" She did not expect biker types to be the types to join the military, she knew very few people who were bikers.

"Going to show me around the city on that?" she asked.

---

Other side of Southport, Velkya

Captain Grant Foster of the Kahanistan Republic Guard woke up from his nap. He was taking a long and well-deserved shore leave after his adventures in Torontia, which had led to him temporarily becoming a fugitive from Kahanistanian justice before it was decided his actions in exposing the Amestrians' evil practice of executing POW's were justified, and he was not only pardoned, but promoted from First Lieutenant to Captain, and awarded the Distinguished Service Cross and the Hero of the Democratic Soviet Republic of Kahanistan for his bravery.

Captain Foster had also served briefly in Kahanistan during the Pwnage invasion, in which his people suffered horribly. When he smothered a Pwnage grenade with his large rucksack, he was awarded a Silver Star for his quick thinking, and was believed to be on the fast track to the rank of Major and a battalion command position. Not bad for a 24-year-old sanitation specialist.

His girlfriend, Second Lieutenant Eileen Holland, Kahanistan Imperial Marines, had joined him on shore leave. She had been commissioned as an officer for her actions in Torontia, having met Foster, joined him, and brought her tank to his side. Her role was less known, as she did not appear in the Torontian TV broadcast the Xirniumites had set up. The two officers had started dating while they were in hiding in Xirnium. Holland was currently in the hospital, ill with unknown complications. For the next few days at least, Foster would be alone.

He had lived in fear of Amestrian reprisals for months, but now, he figured he was relatively safe, the Kahanistanians had pardoned him and established him as a hero. However, by force of habit, he wore a bullet-resistant vest under his civilian clothes and carried an M9 Beretta 9mm pistol in his trousers. He did not know Velkyan gun laws, but always subscribed to the belief that it was "better to be tried by twelve than carried by six." So, he never displayed his weapon openly, and appeared to be, for all intents and purposes, an ordinary Kahanistanian man on vacation.

However, he was wrong about his belief in his safety...

"A biker, are you insane? No, I just do this on the weekends." he said slyly before motioning for her to hop on.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Well, I might as well... She hopped onto the back and threw her arms around Sion from behind, so she wouldn't fall off. Her hands were clasped tightly around her arms to keep her on, and she gripped the sides of the motorbike with her legs like the bike was a bucking bronco.

"Where are we going?"

"My apartment, if that still exists."

I seriously hope Rodney kept it open.

Nadia gripped Sion and held on tight as they went.

---

Captain Foster was bored. He had been alone, without his girlfriend for two days. She had called and told him she was probably pregnant, but the doctors wouldn't release her for another three days while they tried to figure out why she was bleeding.

He looked moodily around his cheap one-room motel, where he was vacationing. He opened a beer and picked up a cannabis-laced brownie. Holland had made them before she went to the hospital. The Kahanistanian Captain nibbled at his brownie and picked up the phone to order a pizza. The herb gave him the munchies something terrible.

"Hello, I'd like to order one large anchovy pizza, one large bacon and cheese pizza, one large vegetable pizza with extra peppers, and four two-liter bottles of soda." He gave the address of the motel and his room number.

While he awaited the pizza, he finished off his beer, opened another, and began to read the Kahanistanian news on his laptop. "President Valens to hold conference on the state of the military." This is interesting. Maybe we won't be such a laughingstock anymore. He awaited the pizza and his girlfriend.

"Your order will arrive in fifteen minutes, thanks for ordering at Bernie's!"

Sion's Apartment

After a ten minute ride, Nadia and Sion arrived at his apartment building, which Sion proceeded to open the door of. At the exact moment, a black man jumped out from behind the door.

"WASSUP?!"

Nadia screamed. "Ahhh! What the hell... Who are you?" She wasn't expecting someone to jump out at her like that, and Sion hadn't mentioned a roommate...

She figured he was a drugged-up intruder, but she had left her sidearm in her bag with her uniform...

SECRET IC

The State of Amestria,
Amestria City (Central),
Headquarters of the Amestrian Secret Service,
Office of Director Vanessa Chloe

One Month Earlier

Director Chloe sat in her office going over expenditure and mission reports, adding her signature when required. Her desk was cluttered, although it was neatly ordered clutter, everything where it should be, nothing haphazard.

Before her was a request to the relevant Criminal Court by the Domestic Investigations section for a surveillance warrant on one Jacques René Mesrine and associates, citing probable cause of criminal activity and involvement with organized crime. Usually the Director’s signiture would not be required for a routine criminal ssurveillance warrant, but Domestic Investigations would be casting the net pretty wide on this one. Aprproved, she scrawled across the provided margin, adding her signature to the line.

The Director then turned her attention to a budgetary request for additional funding from Oreilles* for the next fiscal quarter. With increasing instability and conflict throughout the surrounding regions more personnel and a greater degree of advanced equipment was felt necessary.

Suddenly her phone buzzed, it was her office line. The Director pressed line zero. “Yes.”

It was her administrative assistant. “Director,” he said, “Vice President Curie is here for an unscheduled meeting.”

What! “Show her in.”

“Yes Director.”

The office door opened and Vice President Catherine Curie strode forcefully into the room. Chloe stood up to acknowledge the others superior position.

“For what do I owe the honor of this personal visit, Vice President?” the Director asked, judging that Curie wanted to get straight to the point.

As Chloe spoke Curie walked over to the offices west window. The Vice President stood, looking out across Central’s crowded skyline. The Director remained standing as she had not been invited to sit.

“This visit concerns Captain Grant Foster of the Kahanistanian Republican Guard and Second Lieutenant Eileen Holland of the Kahanistanian Imperial Marines… Has the Secret Service successfully kept track of their movements?”

I see… “Yes, we lost them briefly while they were hiding in Xirnium, but we reacquired them after they left. Their movements outside of Kahanistan and Xirnium are presently being shadowed by agency personnel. We have been able to monitor their crossing of national borders by electronic surveillance… I assume then that it has been decided…?”

“Yes, they have both been marked down for death.”

“And the Principles and Committee are in agreement…?”

“The President, Prime Minister Faure, and Minister de Villepin are all in agreement. Tomorrow the Parliamentary Intelligence Committee shall vote to classify the two as terrorists for their attacks on peacekeepers in Torontia and for helping al-Ghazi provoke the anti-Amestrian riots that killed and injured so many of our citizens in Kahanistan.

Curie placed one of her hands upon the window.

“Those two embarrassed our State and provided aid to those seeking to harm our interests and our citizens. Noir shall be ordered to covertly eliminate them once a suitable opportunity presents itself… To muddy the water and draw suspicion away from Amestria the Secret Service, in preparation for the assassinations, is to conduct a camouflage operation…details from the Committee on the said operation shall arrive tomorrow.”

Chloe nodded. “Understood… Vice President…”

“Yes?”

“May I ask you something?”

“Of course…”

“Why have you come here in person to tell me this? As you said, I will be receiving the authorization and orders tomorrow, and of course in the meantime there is little to be done…”

“You can begin preparations ahead of schedule, improving efficiency… That is all.”

“Yes Vice President.”

Without another word Vice President Curie turned and left the office. Director Chloe sat back down and began the preauthorization preparations, as requested.

(*OOC: Ears)


The World Wide Web

Three Weeks Earlier

On the Surface: A Kahanistanian organization calling itself the Silent Will announces its existence to the online Kahanistanian community. It has several websites outlining its ideology and several posts are made on internet message boards concerning this ideology.

The organization claims to represent the collective anger of those Kahanistanians who perished in the AMF and CAD invasions, as well as the anti-Amestrian riots and crime waves that followed the invasions (hence the name Silent Will). The organizations symbol is not a flag, a banner, or a coat of arms. It is instead a poem by John McCrae.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row by row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe: (the group interprets foe to mean the government who sent the soldiers to die in the first place).
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Silent Will blames all the deaths upon the current structure of the Kahanistanian State, the incompetence of its leadership, and certain traitorus individuals who have “stabbed Kahanistan in the back.”

Is there anyone alive in Kahanistan today who has not lost someone close to them? Over 300 million of our People have perished in the past two wars and yet the most the current leadership can bring itself to talk about is minor military restructuring and “budgetary corrections.” There has been no serious change in the operation of the government, no change in Foreign Policy, no change in internal structure…WHY?! The Kahanistanian State has failed numerous times when it has come to the waging of war and the defense of its people… It needs more then just minor corrections; it needs to be completely rebuilt. To do less then otherwise invites future defeats and future memorials for MILLIONS MORE Kahanistanians.

The group demands the dissolution of the Supreme Soviet and the Presidency and there replacement with a Xirniumite Parliamentary System, modeled after a “nation which has kept its citizens out of unnecessary wars and conflicts.” The Xirniumite policies of isolationism, the Pacitalian policies of neutrality are also advocated and the Kahanistanian policy of interventionism attacked harshly. The Socialist Economy is denounced as a “monument to waste”, its too main products being “squandered resources and coffins.”

There are strong denouncements of unnamed “traitors” who put “the well being of foreigners above their own nation and citizens” and promises of revenge.

Those in the Government who stand in the way of Silent Will and those who have sold their fellow countrymen out for self-interest, profit, or humanitarian ideology shall be viewed as traitors and dealt with accordingly.

SECRET

In Reality: The organization is a fake created by the Amestrian Secret Service as part of a camouflage operation. The Secret Service is thorough in making sure that there are no Amestrian fingerprints on any of the websites or posts, that it is all untraceable.


SECRET IC

Velkya,
Southport Harbor,
Velkyan Naval Vessel Eagles Claw,
Cabin of SS Agents Mireille Bouquet and Kirka Yuumura

Present: One Hour Before They Disembarked

Mireille, cigarette in hand, was on her laptop, checking the agent’s official (and secret) email account. They had mail. One email was from the Amestrian Embassy in Velkya, informing them that they had been placed on the Ambassadorial roster for the duration of their stay and that passports had been issued. There was an email with an attachment from the Headquarters of the Secret Service. It had to be decrypted, meaning it was not a routine matter. After her laptops special decryption software had decoded it Mireille opened the email attachment.

Partout où nécessité fait loi**
State Secret
Destroy All Copies
To: Agents Mireille Bouquet and Kirka Yuumura, Section Noir
From: Vanessa Chloe, Director of the Secret Service
Central Headquarters

Two individuals classified as terrorists, a Captain Grant Foster of the Kahanistanian Republican Guard and a Second Lieutenant Eileen Holland of the Kahanistanian Imperial Marines, are presently operating in Southport Harbor, Velkya. Both individuals carried out attacks against Peacekeepers in Torontia and disseminated false information with the malicious intent of harming Amestria’s interests and citizens. You are charged with their covert elimination and the setting up of camouflage.

Hector Berlioz of Section Oreilles shall provide you with the necessary information and materials for both the assassination and the camouflage operation. Contact him at [I].

The document had the signatures of the President, the Prime Minister, the Foreign Minister, the Director of the Secret Service, every member of the Parliamentary Intelligence Committee and all the necessary codes.

Krika reentered the cabin. “What’s up?”

“New orders,” Mireille replied. She took another puff of her cigarette. “Finally, we get to do our job again. No more babysitting.”

(**OOC: Noir’s Motto; “In every place where necessity makes law”)


Velkya,
Southport Harbor,
South Port Docks,

Present: After They Have Disembarked

Agents Bouquet and Yuumura stepped off the ramp onto the dock. Agents Marot and Sade trudged behind, carrying their heavier luggage. Mireille glanced at her watch. “Nous vérifierons dans un hôtel et rencontrerons demain notre contact.***” she whispered to Krika.

Krika nodded and felt in her pocket to make sure she had not dropped the slip of paper with Nadia’s email address on it. Nadia had given it to her just before she had departed with that Velkyan person named Sion. Once this bloody deed is done perhaps she and I could get together and unwind.

(***OOC: “We will check in a hotel and will meet our contact tomorrow.”)

Holland was released from the hospital early. It turned out that she had little to fear from her medical problems, the baby was a healthy six-week-old male. As far as the officer was concerned, she had nothing to fear from the Amestrians, either. Captain Foster had gone out of his way to make sure she was not featured in any Xirniumite news articles that the Amestrians might read.

She arrived at Captain Foster's motel room. They were planning to go back to Kahanistan and resume the duties appropriate to their new ranks. She baked another batch of cannabis brownies, the last they'd be able to enjoy until the next time they were off duty together. While Kahanistan was liberal about the use of drugs, the military didn't like its officers to be stoned on duty, these were not Pwnage officers.

Little did they know that the Sword of Damocles hung perilously over their heads...

They looked at each other for a moment.

"SION?!"

"RODNEY?!"

They embraced in a manly way before introducing himself to Nadia.

"Ey miss, I'm Rodney Davidson, Secreterah of Pimpin'!"

Nadia sighed, obviously relieved that this man was not a threat. She extended her hand. "Nadia Sklenova, Kahanistan Republic Guard. I'm a friend of Sion's from the Eagle's Claw."

She looked absently around. What was she to expect in a Velkyan apartment?

"Pleased to met cha, Miss Nadia. I be downstairs in da club, ok?"

The room was medium sized, a living room with a black leather sofa and a plasma CD backed against the wall. A small kitchen area with a stove and 'fridge was also visible, as was a open bathroom and small bedroom. Posters of a few bands adorned the walls, as well as a small Velkyan flag above a dark blue Rickenbacker bass guitar with an amplifier attached, as well as a officer's sword leaning against the wall. As Rodney walked down the flight of stairs with a cane, Sion welcomed Nadia into the apartment.

"Pleased to meet you, too," Nadia replied politely. She smiled and sat down on the sofa. When Rodney was out of earshot, she asked, "What's wrong with him?" She had noticed what appeared to be a fairly young man using a cane.

"Nothing, he just likes the cane." Sion said with a smile.

He then walked up to the fridge, pulling a bottle of blue liquid out before closing the door and leaning against it.

"I love solid ground."

Nadia nodded in agreement. "What's that?" She was looking at Sion's bottle.

"Hawkwing, it's an energy drink from SCU."

"Oh." Nadia looked at Sion. "For a moment, I thought you were drinking alcohol..." If he had been, and got drunk, that would ruin the plans they had. Nadia was not going to get on a motorbike with someone who had been drinking.

"What do you have?" Nadia's appetite was stimulated, seeing all the foreign (to her) food and drink.

"Nothing right now, I cleaned my fridge out before I left."

"OK. Want to go out, then? Or should we just call in a pizza or something?" Nadia was hungry. She got up and picked up a phone book, looking for restaurants and delivery places in Southport.

"I'm sure we can take the mag-lev over to Bernie's, they're better. Besides, I need to pick up some food."

He looked at his watch, which displayed the time as 12:21 PM.

Nadia smiled. "Good idea, what kinds of things do they have?" She was eager to go out on the town, find some food, and have some fun in Southport for a few days before she had to go back to Kahanistan. I'd hoped not to use up this much of my leave...

Sion took her hand, and said, "Buon alimento italiano!" before starting out the door.

Now, Nadia might not have spoken Italian, but even she knew what "italiano" meant. They were going for Italian food.

She smiled and hopped on the bike. "This'll be fun." She gripped the bike as she had before, and waited for it to take off.

Sion pulled Nadia off the bike gently before walking onto the busy street. Cars rushed by, but no smell was evident, as the cars were all either hybrids or electric.

"Ever been in the subway?"

Nadia nodded. "Sometimes," she said. "Never been to Velkya before, though." The subways in Kahanistan had an eerie atmosphere to them. That is to say, they smelled like pot and were filled with teen couples who had snuck there to... couple. It was said you could get stoned for cheap simply by going to the subways at night and taking a few deep breaths.

Unlike other countries, there were no homeless people in the subways, as the socialist government built cheap apartment towers and didn't charge rent. The government also paid the utilities, made cheap by nuclear power and biofuel. There were, of course, poor people, who ran about in rags and drove junky cars, but the abject poverty and homelessness found elsewhere was foreign to Kahanistan.

They walked underground, and the subway that would be the London Underground to shame greeted them. The architecture of the station was that of a brand new Grand Central Station, as a well-dressed musician skillfully played his saxyphone, singing an older song to a clapping audience, as a large train powered by opposing magnets pulled into the station quietly and effortlessly, and a small swarm of businesspeople and students climbed into the train, humming the tune as they crossed from the floor of the station to the interior of the train. A conducter greeted them, as a alert Civil Defense officer stood watch nearby. Sion turned to Nadia.

"Come on, let's go."

Nadia nodded and stepped aboard the train. Kahanistan had maglevs too, but they were much rarer and the subways in Kahanistan's overcrowded cities were huge behemoths, triple-decker monsters, often in trains of dozens or hundreds of passenger cars. The inter-city railways were poorly maintained, like those of a third-world country, because of the preference for cars and the poor public transport funding, which it had been an uphill battle to get the Supreme Soviet to fund at all.

"This is so much more high-tech than the ones in Kahanistan." In reality, the technology wasn't the main difference from Kahanistan's railways, the maintenance and environments were. But to someone who had never been to Velkya, and only rarely visited the Kahanistanian subways, the better-maintained underground of the Velkyan public transport system looked infinitely more advanced than what she was used to.

"That's what a two trillion Zonar public transit budget is for."

The real beauty came when the train exited the station on a smooth ascent, and it exited the station, climbing unto a rail near the outer edge of the city. The great skyline of Southport was now visible, and the one hundred eightsix story tall Southport Towers, which rose above the landscape.

"Real beauty, huh?"

http://blender.sixmonkeys.geek.nz/albums/kirpre/Skyscraper.jpg

^ Southport towers.

Nadia nodded her head and smiled. Kahanistan had towers too, 150 stories tall, housing hundreds of thousands and occupying entire city blocks. It was the only way such a massive population could be contained in a nation about twice the area of Kuwait. But Kahanistanian towers were not so splendid on the exterior, they all looked like the Empire State Building, only taller and built of sturdier materials to withstand bombing raids that often struck civilian centers of population. Nadia lived on the 59th floor of one of those apartment towers.

"It's... very impressive," Nadia said. She was never an architecture fan, but she did find the towers interesting.

The train descended back into the reletive darkness of the subway. Then, the train began to slow, and slow. Several people looked up, the stop wasn't for another several hundred feet. The magnets lost power, slowly dropping the train unto the rail, which then released safety clamps to hold the train in place. The lights shut down, and the entire subway tunnel was plunged into darkness. Sion looked up at the emergeny lights to see if they would go on or not. They never did. He shook his before leaning into his seat.

"Damn it."

"What's wrong?" Nadia asked. "What happened?" She turned to face Sion. She had never been on a train that had stalled so suddenly.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, sorry for the interruption, our service will be up momentarily."

Sion said the same thing as the PA system went on, shaking his head in the near darkness. "It's a grid failure, this part of the power grid sucks."

Nadia nodded her head, forgetting that Sion probably couldn't see her in the darkness. This is why I don't like public transportation. "How long would it take to walk to Bernie's?" In military training, she had hiked 15 to 20 kilometers, carrying a backpack roughly half her weight. She wasn't carrying this load now, but she wasn't in the mood to walk more than an hour or two. If they didn't get the train up and running soon, they might have to walk, or at least get a cab.

Nadia thought about her plans to go to Amestria. She hated public transportation, but that was the only kind that existed in Amestria, if what those of her friends who had been there had told her was accurate.

The lights returned, and the train began it's high-speed run again. Sion breathed a sigh of relief.

"A few minutes now."

Nadia smiled. She sat down and waited for the maglev to arrive at Bernie's. In a few minutes, the date would begin.

The Mag-Lev docked, and they exited the train, walking into a busy Southport street. Cars scurried down the well-managed streets, while students sipped mochas and businessmen talked with their associates, and a few skaters screwed about on a ramshackle ramp.

"It's down this way."

Nadia followed Sion to Bernie's and waited for him to make the arrangements. Having never been to a Velkyan restaurant, she didn't know if there were peculiar rules of etiquette to follow.

She stood patiently behind her friend, as the date became more imminent.

(OOC: You make it sound like it's some sort of amphibious assault and you're not going to make it.)

They stepped inside the resturant, and were greeted by a cozy room, with ten or so tables. Behind a counter lay a brick oven and several other kitchen immplements. A Velkyan flag, crossed with that of Italy sat over the mantle. A fat, slightly bald Italian man greeted them.

"Bonjourno, senor! W-Sion?!"

Sion smiled, and hugged the man. "Sì, abbia tutte le tabelle aperte, Bernie?

The man known as Bernie replied with an eunthusiastic grin and directed them to a small corner of the shop. It was already two'o'clock, and the business lunch crowd had passed. Bernie came over to the table, and looked at Nadia. "A lady friend, no? Don't worry, madam, I speak English too! What do want to drink?" He said in a heavy Italian accent.

(Just wanted the post to be more than one or two sentences, that's all.)

Nadia did not speak Italian, so the first sentence passed right over her head. She smiled and answered the waiter. "Do you have iced tea?"

She sat down at the table with Sion. She hadn't been on a date in nearly a year, and now that she was actually out, she felt quite at ease. Nadia picked up the menu, but not being intimately familiar with Italian dishes, she scanned the fine print describing in English what they were.

"Yes, we do. And you, Sion?"

Sion looked up, "A glass of sparkling water, please."

Bernie wrote the orders, and walked back into the bar to fetch the drinks. Sion looked up at Nadia.

"Need help?"

Nadia nodded. "I don't understand all of the fine print, so what exactly is this dish, I can't even begin to guess how it's pronounced," she said, pointing to an appetizing yet fattening looking item labeled "Chicken Fettuccini." It wasn't as if Nadia took great pains to watch her weight, military physical training and regular exercise in combination with genetics kept her fairly slender. That, and the fact that on missions she often didn't eat enough to fill a parakeet.

"Let me take a look at it."

Sion tipped Nadia's menu a bit.

"It's called Chicken Fettuccini."

Nadia nodded and sipped her iced tea. "Looks good. What about you?"

"Prawn de Oured for me."

Nadia nodded. She sat silently until the waiter arrived, barely speaking before then. She was starving, military rations might be fine for duty, but off she liked more civilian-type fare.

After a short while (considering that the resturant had virutally no other customers, the waiter returned.

"Ready to order?"

Nadia nodded and pointed to the Italian dish she'd had trouble with earlier. "This, a side of black-eyed peas, and a refill on my tea."

"No problem, miss."

Several hours of small talk passed, as their food, dessert, and cappicinos came and went. Soon, the dinner was over, and Sion and Nadia hopped the train back to Sion's apartment.

Nadia entered the apartment, thinking over the events of the last 24 hours, especially her date.

Another relationship that probably won't go anywhere... Well, it was at least fun, and Sion seemed nice. He didn't even try to use her sexually. This was more than Nadia could say for quite a few of the other men she had dated...

Nadia would have liked to stay behind for a few more days, but her leave time was cut short, and she wanted to talk to Rachel. She had been emphatic about meeting up sooner or later, and she had seemed more urgent than usual.

She gave Sion her email address and sat down on the couch, deep in thought.

Sion nodded and placed the address next to his computer, ready to scan it in. Once he had done that, he walked over to the couch, sitting down with a slight thud on it.

"Do you have a place to crash tonight?"

Nadia shook her head. "No..." She hadn't thought that far ahead, didn't know where the hotels were in Southport, and didn't have Velkyan currency on her.

"Got any ideas?"

Sion turned his head to the blonde Kahanistani.

"You're more than welcome to stay here for the night, but if you find that a tad bit uncomfortable, you can use my shore pass and get a hotel room somewhere."

Nadia smiled. "It won't be uncomfortable... I'll just crash on the couch." She made it a policy not to sleep with a man on the first date... or the second, or the third. This alone led to her being viewed often as prudish or conservative, but to her it was merely a matter of protecting her feelings. She would take a long time to lower her defenses around anyone.

Of course, it was difficult when she was downed in the middle of nowhere, especially with a male officer who had made no secret of his attraction to her. Nadia had had to sleep next to the man for warmth, and it was very uncomfortable, especially because the other officer was not visibly uncomfortable around her...

Nadia's mind came back to the present. "Good night," she said.

"Alright, night Nadia."

Sion retreated into his room, after getting ready for bed. Without even getting under the covers, he fell fast asleep.

Nadia closed her eyes and soon drifted away, unaware of the nefarious deeds her Amestrian friends were plotting. Her mind drifted away into the disorder of the night...

She was on the plane to Amestria, preparing to meet Sara. Everyone on the plane was taking D. H. C. and laughing it up on the plane. The huge plane felt like the MiG's Nadia was used to flying. Nadia started yelling at the crew to quiet down and the plane started to go down, right into the water...

Nadia washed up on the beach, soaking wet and still in civilian clothes. She was confused and her mind was a blank. It was Sara who was waiting for her at the beach. She pulled her up, which seemed easy enough from Nadia's point of view, she was much smaller than Sara.

They were in an unfamiliar house which looked to be very old. Nadia's five-foot, five-inch frame almost touched the ceiling, people must have been very short indeed when this place was built. She surmised that this must be the Manor, although she had never been there. They walked down to a cellar loaded with the finest Amestrian wine and brandy. Bottles of Amour brandy, the kind she had shared with Sara aboard the ship, and bottles of other brands she had only seen being smashed in footage of the anti-Amestrian riots she had accessed online, lined the shelves of the old residence.

Amour... Love...

Nadia's mind raced. What is the meaning of this?! She was staring directly at the Amour brand brandy on the shelves, remembering what Sara had said to her. Sara had said that the brand was traditionally drunk by lovers. Nadia's heart began beating faster. While she certainly saw Sara as a close friend, that was all she saw her as.

One of the bottles of Amour suddenly came off the shelf, and Nadia looked behind her to see Sara, now in a dominatrix suit and holding the bottle.

"Oh, dear God..."

As Sara grabbed her and passionately kissed her, Nadia woke up with a start, her watch said 5:25 AM. She walked out to clear her head, putting her sidearm inside her trousers in case she encountered one of the numerous rapists, muggers, or generic serial killers of Velkya's numerous cities.

It's OK. Sara would never do that. She knows you just see her as a friend. Once you see her again and talk to her, this will all be out of your system.

The thought and the cool Velkyan night air helped to calm Nadia's nerves somewhat.

Sion awoke to the sound of his door closing, and shot up out of bed, his sidearm pointed at his door, the red dot moving about in a random path. He realised there was nobody there and lowered the weapon. He opened the door, muzzle and kicksight pointing outwards, and cleared his apartment. Nadia was gone, along with a bit of her stuff. He sighed, pushing the safety back to 'S' and pocketed it.

Damn it, it's still early.

He threw his heavy unbuttoned trenchcoat on over an off-duty pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt, brushed his teeth, and walked outside.

Maybe Joe's is still open. I could use some siac...

He stepped outside and locked the door, before descending the stairway to street level. Placing his hands in his pocket, he began the long walk to his favorite coffee shop.

siac = Velkyan military slang for coffee. Stands for Shit In A Cup, due to the increased bitter taste and lighter color of coffee in the Velkyan military.

Nadia walked up and down the street for half an hour. It was almost six o'clock when she returned to the apartment. She tried the door. It wouldn't open, maybe it was stuck. Assuming the door was locked, and not wanting to wake Sion, she sat down at the entrance and waited. It was chilly, Nadia did not have a lot of fat on her and the uniform did little to retain body heat.

Around a half hour later

Sion, walking from Joe's with a styrofoam cup, sipping it as he walked back to his apartment, looked up towards the still dark sky. The morning chill did nothing to affect him as he strolled up the stairway back to his home. Seeing Nadia, he immediatly waved and opened the door for her, not saying a word.

Nadia smiled. "I was freezing to death out here, thanks." She was clearly relieved to be in the warm apartment building again after clearing her head about Sara.

She would have to go home in the next couple of days. In the meantime, Nadia hoped to see more of Southport. It was still about 6:30 AM, though, so she merely sat down on the couch, opened her laptop, and checked to see if there was any email in her inbox.

(OOC: Brackets, <>, indicated they are speaking Amestrian.)

Secret IC

Velkya,
Southport,
Some Random Park,
Two o’clock in the afternoon

Secret Service Agents Mireille Bouquet and Krika Yuumura of Section Noir leisurely strolled through the shady park, pointedly admiring the fairly bland local scenery. From time to time Mireille would snap a picture of something, such as a tree or fountain. Krika was dressed in a soft light blue sundress, flat sandals, and woven sunhat with a cute purple ribbon. She sucked contentedly on a strawberry sucker. Mireille was dressed rather differently; no hat, her long blonde hair let out, dark glasses, a red formfitting sleeveless shirt with matching black mini, and black two inch pumps.

Steps had been taken to insure that the two had not been followed. They had wandered about the town for about an hour and a half, playing the part of normal everyday sightseers. Agent Marot had trailed them, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious who seemed to have an extraordinary interest in them. The pair had arrived at the park without incident.

Mireille and Krika then spotted their contact. Agent Hector Berlioz of Section Oreilles was an Amestrian of North African descent, officially nothing more then a tourist. The man was dressed in fairly typical local clothing. He had a large backpack strapped around his shoulders and he was carrying a fairly heavy looking grocery bag.

Hector smiled. <“Ah, good, right on time.”> He then motioned to a nearby park bench. <“Have a seat…”>

Mireille and Krika sat down. Hector took off his backpack and laid it on the ground and set the grocery bag down on the bench between him and the two agents. Mireille glanced into the bag and saw celery, raw steak, some carrots, and several unidentifiable items wrapped in non-see-through grocery bags. Krika glanced around. There was nobody nearby, they were pretty much alone.

Mireille put away her camera and lit a cigarette. Hector wrinkled his nose.

<“Agent Bouquet, put it out please.”>

Mireille sighed, dropped her cigarette to the ground, and stamped it out with her foot.

<“Thank you…”>

Oh well, thought Mireille, I have to really start cutting back anyway.

Agent Berlioz began his briefing.

<“Foster and Holland are staying at a cheap one room motel, apparently unable to afford anything better even with their combined salaries. It’s sad, pathetic really, they are constantly at war, sacrifice so much, yet are compensated with so very little… We have surveyed the surrounding area and have had the couple under 24 hour surveillance for the last four days. The surrounding area is relatively low traffic, a few surveillance devices that are easily avoided, few police, and neither buildings of civic or commercial importance. With the exception of Holland briefly checking into a hospital they have not gone anywhere or done anything other then order large quantities of takeout. The motel is almost entirely empty. If we are going to hit them now is the time, tonight.”>

Mireille smiled and Krika nodded.

<“Tonight you will sneak into their room and execute them both using the silenced Berettas provided…”>

Hector discretely gestured to the bag.

<“The Berettas are then to be left in motel room for the police to find.”>

<“The door…?”> Mireille questioned.

<“A simple cheap mass produced lock…”>

<“Easily picked.”>

<“…and your standard deadbolt…”>

<“That can be released with a magnet.”>

<“Exactly… Two hours from now an official from our embassy will arrive and be relieving you of your Service issued weapons. The Velkyan government, which needless to say is aware of your presence here in Southport, will be told that you two have been disarmed and are presently awaiting reassignment. Inside one of these bags is a map showing Fosters current location, along with the various tools you will be using to lay down camouflage.”>

The tools Hector was referring to had been smuggled through the Amestrian Embassy.

<“Tools…?”> asked Bouquet.

<“Several chilled vials of blood, several vials of hair, a chilled vial of spittle, a frozen vial of semen with syringe, and muddy boots… I doubt I need to tell either of you what you are going to be doing with all that.”>

Both Mireille and Krika nodded.

<“Once you are done planting everything, riddle the corpses with bullets; make their deaths look as messy and painful as possible. Destroy or soil anything of emotional worth. After the deed is done hang around, relax, and enjoy yourselves a little while, then quietly leave the country.”>

Agent Hector Berlioz stood up and stretched. <“Good luck…”>

He then departed.

Mireille picked up the black backpack and threw one strap over her shoulder.

<”Krika, you carry the grocery bag.”>

<“But Mireille, it’s heavy and difficult to hold on to…can I carry the backpack?”>

<“No…”> Mireille replied simply.

<“Why not…? You’re stronger.”> Krika whined.

<“Because it matches my outfit...”>

The pair began the leisurely walk back to their hotel room.

Kahanistanian Lieutenant Colonel Nadia Sklenova was still unaware of the fiendish plot by her Amestrian friends to murder two Kahanistanian officers. She closed her laptop. Drat. No email yet. She had hoped that Sara had contacted her recently, apparently not.

Nadia put the computer back in her bag and turned to Sion. "Well..." She had been to the restaurants there, and would be in Velkya at least two more days. She wanted to see the sights of Southport. "What else is there to do in town?" she asked.

---

Foster's quarters

Captain Foster sat at a table, greedily stuffing his face with cannabis brownies. He could not cook as well as Holland did, and she no longer wanted to make them, being on a diet for her weight and being pregnant. God, these taste terrible. Must have put too many eggs in them.

"Grant, you're going to give yourself diarrhea," said Holland. "I am not cleaning up if you get stoned and crap on the carpet." She was only four months pregnant, but had a serious lack of energy. Foster was no longer as paranoid about assassinations as he had been, possibly because he had become a pothead in the weeks following his defection.

He did, however, sleep with a loaded 9mm Beretta service pistol under his pillow. At his insistence, so did Holland. She was never concerned about assassination, but kept the weapon under pressure and then by force of habit.

"I'm fine, Eileen." In fact, he was higher than he had ever been in his life.

If she had known what the Amestrians had had in store for them, she would have been high too, regardless of Junior. "Fine, but if you crap the carpet, you can clean it up," she said, unconvinced.

They decided to watch Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. They had watched a pirated copy of Le Porc (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11093205&postcount=15), an Amestrian film, the night before, and now it was Holland's turn to choose the film for the night.

They sat up that evening watching the movie, and at night they lay down, arms around each other, weapons under their pillows, and went to sleep. They were on vacation, but they were still military officers, and they had gotten into the habit of carrying their weapons.

"For happy tourists, tons. For people like me, nothing."

Sion crashed down on his couch, staring at the bare white ceiling. Light had begun to peak through his windows, signifying that the day had officially come and that life would soon begin anew in the bustling metropolis.

Nadia nodded her head. "I'll go see if there are any dance clubs around here, then. Don't worry, I only drink when I'm really stressed or it's a special occasion."

She picked up her Hooters T-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Is there a lot of crime here?" she asked, picking up her sidearm and putting it into her jeans pocket. "I'll go change." She was still in uniform.

Nadia came out five minutes later dressed in civvies, her weapon held inside her jeans. She appeared an ordinary young woman out on the town.

Sion shook his head.

"Not really, especially in this district, we've got a high concentration of military personnel, you know how that goes. If you need directions, just go to one of tourist kiosks, they're littered about every few blocks or so."

Nadia smiled. "Thanks. I'll try to be back by midnight."

She stepped out the door and walked, just walked, for over two hours, exploring the city. At the bank she had six hundred Kahanistanian shekels (roughly 1,200 USD) converted into Zonars. She was going to have one hell of a night on the town.

When she left the bank, it was still noon. Most of the clubs probably won't open until about six o'clock, maybe eight.

Nadia figured that that was enough time to go shopping. She was never the kind to splurge on hundreds of USD worth of clothes she'd probably never wear, but she could use a few T-shirts that didn't lead people to ask her if she worked at Hooters. One she saw had the ubiquitous "Лучшие 30 Факты Чака Норриса"* on it.

There were so few T-shirts she liked that she ended up wandering into the lingerie section. Not going to be doing any business here... She turned around and walked back into the T-shirt section, seeing the things she'd missed on her first trip. The first thing she saw then was one she'd usually seen on children. "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful." She picked it up, along with some extra workout clothes, a couple extra pairs of trousers, a clubbing dress and a business suit.

Nadia remembered that she had lost most of her wardrobe when her home was bombed by the Freeks. She had gotten some basic civilian clothing, but had never gotten a new business suit for Communist Party meetings and the like. Until the surrender of Kraven to AMF, she had felt that death was always around the corner from her.

She took her bags up to the cashier. By the time she got out, it was after five o'clock. By this time she realized that carrying around this much baggage kept her hands full and might encourage someone to rob her. Luckily, there was a rental car agency just across the street. After getting the car and putting her bag in it, she decided it was time to get ready to roll.

The car was a cheap old 1993 Mustang. Old enough not to draw attention to the driver, new enough that it wouldn't break down every five kilometers. It was six o'clock now, but the first four clubs she passed were still closed. Nadia familiarized herself with the locations of Sion's apartment, the supermarket, and the Kahanistanian consulate in Velkya. She lost track of time while learning the ropes and did not arrive at a club until eight-thirty.

At 8:30 PM, Nadia entered the dance club, with techno music blaring and lights shining all over the place. People mostly danced, but some sat around drinking vodka. Perhaps nobody had noticed her entering the club?

*"Top 30 Chuck Norris Facts"

(OOC: Meh. I'm going to move the story ahead, extricate my main character from it so she's not tied up and can be used in battle. The rest of the thread can go as planned whenever there's time.)

After a couple of hours in the club, Nadia grew tired and bored. Nobody had approached her, why, she never figured out. While not beautiful by most standards - a little too thin for some - she was certainly attractive and surrounded by men wearing beer goggles. She may not have gone to pick anyone up, but sometimes the conversation was interesting; the weirdest stories came from drunk people, and they often gave her a laugh. Bored and sober, and not even getting a dance, she drove to the airport and boarded a flight back home to Kahanistan.