NationStates Jolt Archive

The Moralists had been soft, too soft, and everyone knew it. Everyone ‘maintaining law and order’ in Arandior knew it, anyway. Perhaps Tobias Grey and his black-shirts knew better; but in Arandior those wearing the green saw the need for blood.

Light gunfire broke the silence, as Cultist farmers continued fighting their skirmishes with government forces. Sergeant Ray Striker looked out of the barn down into the town of Krienee. The Cult of Justinian badly outnumber the soldiers, were more fanatical and more knowledgeable of the landscape. The soldiers had better rifles, but beyond that, no heavy weapons. The Cultists “weren’t rebelling” so no heavy equipment was required.

In the distance Striker could hear chanting, it was loud and numerous,
“Justinian, in the darkness you will guide us.
In your light we shall shine.
In your service we are humbled.
In your absence we are blind.”

The Cultists were growing in confidence, becoming more numerous and more dangerous. Striker couldn’t believe it was just farmers. Cultists from all over the country had been slipping into Arandior for weeks now, propping up the resistance.

Striker heard movement behind the barn, but he knew it was too late. “They’re all around us,” he thought, “The skirmishes are over, they’re going to wipe us out.”

The sound of rifle cracks began, bullets flying into the barn. “Defensive positions,” yelled Striker, though he knew his eight men didn’t stand a chance without help.

Moving up to the window, Striker aligned his rifle, took aim and fired. The rifle slammed back into him in recoil, and then he fired again. The government rifles fired faster and packed a bigger punch, but that accounted for nothing in the end.

As bullets flew in all directions, Striker grabbed his radio, “Arandior Command, Sergeant Striker requesting immediate…argh.”

He was cut short as a bullet slammed into his shoulder.

“Sergeant Striker? What is happening? Over.” asked a female voice on the other end of the line.

“Under attack by Cultists just south of Krienee, over,” wheezed Striker.

“We are getting calls for help from all over Arandior,” said a voice at the other end, “The Arandior Taskforce has no reserves to deploy, with Cultist revolts in more farm towns, over.”

“End game,” said Striker quietly, trying to bandage his shoulder and talk at the same time.

“It appears to be the case. We have reports from the Arandior urban south of attacks on government buildings, over,” said the voice.

Now that did strike Striker as odd, the south was Socialist dominated; known for its contempt of the likes of Cultists. But that was all academic now. “Over and out.”

“Raise the white flag,” said Striker, struggling to his feet. It was the last thing he would ever, another bullet finding flesh.

---

A rapping on the door woke Tobias Grey early. The President leaned over to his bedside table to examine the clock.

“Lord President,” said the voice of one his guards beyond the door, “You are wanted in Conference Room Six.”

Tobias picked up his water glass; still laying in bed, brought the glass over to his lips, before rotating it 180 degrees, pouring the water all over his face. The shock ran through him, bringing him about of the pleasant sleep to the unbearable reality.

“Six dead,” he thought to himself, “Only I could have a ball from which six people don’t return.”

Self pity and self blame were emotions Tobias frequently visited. “My most trusted lieutenant, my mentor, my loyal friend, is lying in hospital and its all my fault,” he thought as he dragged himself out of bed.

Tobias brought himself to his feet and began unbuttoning his damp blue night shirt. Removing the blue shirt, he turned back towards his empty bed. “Empty,” he thought, with a great amount of bitterness.

Tobias Grey closed his eyes; but he could still see his bed. His dear Elaine was lying on her front, resting peacefully. Her soft breathing was barely audible. She always smelt so wonderful; simply because she smelled like herself.

But he opened his eyes and she was gone. He could still remember his grandfather when he wanted to; but memories of Harkon’s murder still burnt harshly on him. Harkon had been more than a grandfather; but also a father, a teacher and a friend. All that vanished when Grey was only ten, because of those murderous damned Walters.

As he pulled on his trousers, he thought of the meddling Cultists in Arandior, not trouble so much as troubling. And now the lawless bastards had tried to kill him and nearly killed Dan.

Oh how he would make them pay.

---

Tobias Grey walked down the long palace corridor, flanked by his two body guards. Turning into a conference room on his left, he spoke before those sitting knew he had entered, “Why have I been summoned?”

General Walker stood at the far end of Conference Room Six, which was covered in maps, most littered with coloured markers. “Lord President,” began the General quietly, well aware of what Tobias had been through, “The Cultists seem to be throwing everything they have against us in Arandrior.”

“Obliterate them,” said Grey offhandedly, a complete reversal of government policy, “I know you have been secretly building up forces outside Arandior

The Cultists of Arandior had been trouble for weeks, more a nuisance than a threat. Perhaps they were getting dangerous, but there was more to the story, Grey knew it.

“[I]I assume General there is something else; something more than a handful of religious farmers in Arandior,” Grey asked.

“You are correct Lord President,” said General Walker, “We may have a Socialist problem.”

“Arandior is the Socialist heartland,” recalled Grey, “Southern Arandior, the urban areas brim with them. It is one of the few places the Socialists hold seats in. They have seen us weak and distracted; and they have seized the initiative.”

The General nodded, “The massive Parliamentary losses have left them disillusioned. No matter who wins the Presidency, Liberal or Moralist, the Socialists lose. So they have taken up arms and told the world about their People’s Republic, claiming all of Arandior; even the Conservative north. They have sent radio messages all across the world, declaring their independence. The Socialist revolutionaries outnumber the Cultists at least ten to one. They are the game, and the Cultists the side show.”

Tobias Grey removed a cigarette from his jacket pocket, placed it in his mouth and lit it. After about thirty seconds of silence, Tobias responded, removing the cigarette from his mouth, “Throw all of Arandior back to the Stone Age. And if the world gives a damn, they can shove their diplomatic objections where the sun don’t shine.”

As the General was shocked by the President’s anger, Tobias added silently to himself, “The Cultists will pay for what they did to Dan. Once we have blasted their farms into oblivion, I’m going to keep my boot firmly on their neck. No second chances this time.”

The Socialist rebellion was an after thought.

---

The sound of rumbling thunder filled the Arandior sky. Only it wasn’t thunder, but artillery, turning their targets into rubble. James Kaher watched his payload fly towards the warehouse that the Socialists were using as a holdout. There was an almighty bang, as sheets of metal, clumps of bricks and flaming lumps flew into the air, “Serves the damned reds right.”

The military was progressing in both the south and the north, though Kaher knew progress was slower in the urban south, where the enemy was more numerous and tanks were far less effective. The Generals had decided to finish the Cultist sideshow by dinner, so they could give their full attention to the backstabbing reds.

Heck, the Generals planned to finish in the north for dinner, but they might well finish before lunch. Kaher had heard reports of smashing early successes up there. Up in the north, massed tanks had met little opposition, government forces driving right through the resistance without stopping. The Cultists fought harder than the Socialists, but they were in a worse place and with far, far less troops.

The Socialist south would take days to stamp out, Kaher thought. Urban fighting was always more difficult. Down below Kaher could see he was approaching the front, where artillery fire was turning buildings into powder as infantry supported by tanks advanced on the retreating Socialists who fought from building to building. Flashes of light were continuous, as the outgunned Socialists desperately tried to deny reality. Looking further along the front, Kaher could see some Socialists being marched off, complete fighting units surrendering to the overwhelming government response. The Socialists had underestimated the government’s metal, and now they were paying the price. The Cultists to were paying the price, even more so.

Kaher smiled high above is all, “Look at the reds throw in the towel. Perhaps we’ll finish them by dinner too.”

Diadem Palace, Risban

"What is it?" grumbled Emperor Scorpius as he stepped out of his bed, yawning. He scowled at the light as it was turned on by his aid, Orion Lesath, who handed him some papers. "What's this?"

"Sir, there's just been some kind of Socialist declaration of rebellion in Farmina," said Orion. "You're wanted in the control centre."

Scorpius sighed, glancing absent-mindedly as he pulled his robe around himself and walked down the hallway. Always something going on...


Moments later, he walked into the Control Centre of the Imperial Diadem Palace, where events were moniterred world wide. Myles Abrams of the Intelligence Ministry walked towards the Emperor, who had just taken a seat and ordered for some tea. "So, Myles, what's happening?" yawned the Emperor, glancing at a screen.

"Socialists in the Farminan region of Arandior broadcast a message of rebellion. The government has already sent forces to squash the threat," said Myles. "It appears that it may have already been quelled, though. Farminan forces responded quickly and efficiently."

Scorpius sighed, sipping his tea as he looked over some documents. "Has the President released any official statement on it yet?" asked the Emperor.

"Not that we know of, sir," responded Alexander Perkins, the Foreign Secretary, walking in.

"So, alright... There's a Socialist threat... And it's squashed quickly... What am I doing out of bed?" asked the Emperor.

"Just thought you'd like to know, sir," said Abrahms. "But, there is more. Apparently mixed in with these Socialists were a group called the 'Cultists' who preach loyalty to the former leader Justinian."

"Ah, I see..."

"But, it appears they might be fairing worse than the Socialists."

"Hmm... Interesting," said the Emperor. "Watch the situation closely. I'm going back to bed."

"Aye, sir."


OOC: Tag!

Tobias Grey wiped his lips with the napkin, before placing it aside. It was mid-afternoon and he had an explanation to give, to his nation and the world. He’d been avoiding it all day, but inevitability is a fact of politics.

Walking along the White Palace’s long corridors, he listened as advisors updated him on the situation in Arandior. He absorbed every word, as the small group proceeded forward. Taking the final turn on the right, Tobias Grey stopped at the podium just beyond the doorway. He was in the press hall, on the great balcony overlooking the gallery. Where there had been the racket of a hundred voices, his presence produced silence.

Tobias Grey was a medium height man and was clearly overweight. His hair was greasy and black, the occasional grey showing, though they disappeared as though dyed away. He always dressed well, though never too extravagantly. He wore black suits and white shirts, ordinary and yet striking.

“Our enemies test patience,” began Grey somberly, “The Cult of Justinian have stepped too far and my patience with them has snapped. A member of the Cult of Justinian by the name of Rellian Peters has killed a Cardinal, severely wounded the Chancellor for Foreign Affairs and made an attempt on my own life. In Arandior, they abandoned their skirmishes with the law and began a full-scale attack on our troops last night, with a bloodlust we have not seen since the Sinear Wars. In the south of Arandior matters are even more troubling. Socialists have taken advantage of our distraction and declared the independent People’s Republic of Arandior.”

President Grey paused and took a mouth full of water, “In the early hours of this morning I authorized military action to restore law and order to Arandior. Progress is being made on all fronts with little loss of life. In the north, the Cultists fight fanatically, but hopelessly. As of half an hour ago, General Parms informed me of an end to major fighting in the Cultist north, with rebel leaders being captured and signing the official surrender documents.”

Tobias took a sip and continued, “The military is now entering the final phase of defeating any remaining Cultists and preventing any escaping Arandior to infect other parts of Farmina. Military units are being moved south to open another front against the Socialists, who we are already smashing. I advise those who delude themselves with their ‘People’s Republic’ to put down their weapons and surrender. They are losing and that is the unavoidable truth.”

Tobias Grey wasn’t sure of the details of the new push into the ruins of the “People’s Republic”, but expected that the General would be sending his light tanks and infantry south, aiming for rapid deployment rather than firepower.

“Against the Socialists, progress is more limited, I confess. But the resistance is collapsing,” said Tobias, “Though they have the numbers; they have neither the hearts nor the machines. They flee before our troops and surrender by the thousand. Major fighting should be over within days. Government casualties are currently about one hundred, many from before the offensive.”

Now the President ended the facts and began the rhetoric; end with what you want the media to remember. “The Cultists and Socialists took a gamble. They gambled and lost. As they would have enjoyed the spoils if they were victorious; now they shall pay the price of defeat.

Democracy is NOT a concept to be taken lightly, a vehicle to get what you want, to be disposed of by force when it fails to deliver. The Cultists desired the destruction of our way of life; a return to the tyranny and corruption of Justinian. Their attempt to kill poor Daniel shows just the foulness they represent. The Socialists, oh they talk of a republic belonging to the people; but that is what Farmina is; that is what a democracy is. No red tyranny is ever the People’s Republic; it is the State’s Republic.

In Arandior, democracy was presumed a foolishness, a weakness. And across the seas dictators view us with similar eyes, weak democrats to be consumed and held in contempt. We have proven this a falsehood. Enemies of Farmina, you have seen our metal; now see democracy’s jackboot.”

Bump; will post again tommorow

Three days had passed since the commencement of major hostilities. Dan Rickhart had returned from hospital, still not in perfect shape, but as always refusing to admit it. Many film clips had been brought from the fighting in Arandior, of infantry supported by tanks, helicopters, jets and artillery; advancing on every front, over rubble and the dead.

The advance had not sped up as much as expected. The Socialist dead were the dumbest and the prisoners were the most cowardly. Now the army was against the most intelligent and fanatical reds. But at the end of the day, they were beaten all the same.

Maps revealed that this was the end game. The three main forces had been moving with one very specific purpose. To either destroy all resistance of drive it into the city of Alistair, the presumed capital of the mythical People’s Republic.

Tobias Grey turned away from the map he walked over to his desk, sat down and proceeded to revise his speech. He briefly peered to the ornate, old fashion phone in the corner. He knew that at any moment it would be all over, Alistair crushed from three directions.

All across occupied Arandior, the rebel perpetrators who had gone into hiding were now being weeded out. In the north and most of the south, hostilities had completely ceased. Absolute victory and nothing less.

As Tobias Grey noted several corrections, the phone rang. The President grabbed it furiously. It was voice of Supreme Commander Aricar. Tobias closed his eyes, “So it is over.”

---

Four hours had passed since the phone call; but Tobias was a busy man, and more vitally a cautious one. However once again he stood on the balcony of the press hall, journalists waiting on his every word.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said with a cautious opening, “I bring you victory.”

There was a brief cheer, but Tobias gestured for silence, “As of a few hours ago, the Socialist ‘Worker’s Council’ was captured in the final stage of fighting and surrendered unconditionally.”

He pulled out a piece of paper from his folder, “Let me read you the surrender document. ‘The Worker’s Council of Arandior hereby announces its unanimous and unconditional surrender as of three o’clock.

The Worker’s Council of Arandior hereby instructs all remaining rebels to surrender to the rightful government of Farmina.

The Worker’s Council of Arandior hereby recognizes that there is no People’s Republic of Arandior, and it has never, or will never exist. Arandior is the rightful territory of the Democratic Republic of Farmina.

The Worker’s Council of Arandior hereby confesses to fomenting and leading a rebellion against the rightful state of Farmina.

The Worker’s Council hereby confesses to be in the wrong.

Signed Jamison Reilly, William Peters, Gregory Parker, Charles Hansard, General Steven Parms, General Phillip Walker, General Shane Watson, Supreme Commander Varius Aricar.’ Fellow Farminans, we are whole again.”

There was more applause as Tobias placed the surrender document aside and pulled out another document. “Our victory is absolute, hostilities completely ceased. All remaining rebels are dead or captured.”

He failed to mention a few who had disappeared, but the government would find them soon enough, “Thousands of rebels are prisoner, by capture or surrender. However it should be noted that there was no war. Hence our prisoners are not prisoners of war and do not have the rights of prisoners of war,” said Tobias sternly.

A cameraman in the hall asked softly, “What does he mean by that?”

The reporter he was working with responded, harshly, but whispered, “They are all going to get a cigarette and a blindfold.”

Far above Tobias Grey didn’t hear the interchange, but he knew most people would be working out what would happen to the prisoners. Most had even been kind enough to sign confessions, assuming they were prisoners of war, attracted by promises of better treatment. He had allowed a brief pause, but then continued, “I should also mention that two Socialist members of Parliament have been arrested for their part in these events. Both were representatives of Arandior.”

Again he allowed a brief pause, “Tomorrow the Parliament shall be passing into effect measures to prevent this tragedy from reoccurring. I am promised support by Liberal leader James Palmer, so passage is ensured. I shall now read the basic intention of the articles from the bill.

‘Article I. Arandior shall be placed under Martial Law, and remain so at the Parliament’s pleasure.

Article II. Arandior shall be stripped of Parliamentary representation; and its citizens shall be forbidden to partake in democratic elections for ten years, extendible at the Parliament’s pleasure.

Article III. The ownership of firearms shall be banned in Arandior, punishable by death.

Article IV. Meetings of more than ten persons are banned within Arandior, punishable by death.

Article V. Within Arandior a ten percent occupation tax shall be levied on income, in addition to income tax, and shall remain so at the Parliament’s pleasure.

Article VI. Failing to report a person one knows as a member of the Cult of Justinian is punishable by six years imprisonment.

Article VII. Being a member of, of believer in the teachings of, the Cult of Justinian is punishable by repossession of all wealth by the state and re-education. Repeat offenders are punished by death by dismemberment.

Article VIII. Being a preacher of, or leader of, the Cult of Justinian is punishable by dead by dismemberment.

Article IX. Texts depicting an independent Socialist Arandior without government approval is banned. Owning a copy is punishable by a fine of 1,000,000 Harens. Publishing such a book is punishable by death.

Article X. All travel in and out of Arandior is strictly regulated by the government. The government has the right to establish a settlement program within Arandior. Such settlers retain voting rights of their home province.

Article XI. All property of convicted rebels is property of the government of Farmina.

Article XII. Any abandoned buildings and farms in Arandior are property of the Farminan government.

Article XIII. A consumption tax of undecided weight shall be levied in Arandior to cover the costs of reconstruction.’”

Tobias Grey took a long deep breath. The jackboot was of his personal design. Not even Rickhart could persuade him.

“May the world know not to test our metal,” said Tobias, mimicking his earlier speech, “May the world know democracy’s jackboot. All those who stand against our freedom and unity now know the price. And they stand back as they now that our price is too high. Long live the Farmina!”

Bump

Kommunigrad, Andaras Prime Capital

Samuel Benson looked up from his desk, the small group of important people had gathered in his small conference room to discuss the developing situation in the nation of Farmina. It was too late and possibly too early to gather the entire party, Samuel wished to keep the presence only to the most involved and important members of the party. In truth President Benson wished not to aroused other elements of the party unneccessarily, and certainly not so soon, details on the Farminian uprising were still quite vague, but still not so vague that it didn't alert the most important people in the Socialist Republic.

'The fact is for us this situation seems to have ceased before it even started, the socialist uprising in Farmina, along with fifth column expat elements loyal to the former leader Justin, seems to have been completely quelled by Farminian military forces' said Michel Andreas, a senior member of the Social Marxist Party, and the minister of foreign affairs.

'So your suggesting it's too late for us to do anything I assume Michel. I think we here should recognise a few facts here, this isn't a government putting down a rebellion anymore, it stopped being that when the captured socialists weren't declared POW's, and are therefore subject to the most pervasive torture and violation' said Doupoiti Maseilles, Vice Chairman to the party, a strong voice within the Supreme Soviet and very influencial within the part itself. He was often quite moderate in foreign affairs, and was an important ally of the Chairman and President, but sometimes sided with the more idealistic wing of the party.

'We are all familiar with the legislation passed due to the support of Farminian Liberal leader James Palmer, we all read the file Vice Chairman. As socialists we all should be very disturbed by these defamatory articles, what I mean to say is that we should tread lightly in such regards, this is very dangerous territory for us. But I do support political backing for these socialists'. Replied Michel Andreas, the two of them for Samuel were often polar opposite on views, but they gave him a rare perspective on the different approaches he could take. The Vice Chairman was often unsympathetically idealist, using his immense influence to anull legislation because 'it was not socialist enough'. While Michel provided a much needed reality to the issues the party often faced. Most of the Presidents job had become a comprimise between idealism and reality, to try and keep the values of state and people while keeping their maintaining a foreign reputation intact. Samuel knew that political support for Farminian socialists would be the minimum that could be done at the moment, but the Article IX played in his mind. He knew most of the party would be up in arms over that one article, and he knew that he couldn't ignore them, and to maintain his support he had to take much more drastic actions.

'I agree with you both gentlemen, but nothing more official can be done without the entire party agreeing. Michel I would like you to send a message via the NKVD to President Tobias Grey expressing our concern over their excessively harsh actions upon the socialists in regard to refusing to acknowledge them as prisoners of war, and the Article IX of their recently passed legislation.' Said the President, but he knew that the party would demand more than a letter in the end.

Secret Communication via NKVD operatives.
To: President Tobias Grey
From: Michel Andreas, Foreign Affairs Minister, Social Marxist Party

On behalf of our President and Chairman of the party, I have been asked to send you this message in response to the recent socialist uprising in your nation. I understand you were merely quelling a rebellion within your own borders, but your harsh actions upon the socialists in regard to refusing to acknowledge them as prisoners of war, and the Article IX of your recently passed legislation are deeply disturbing to the Socialist Republic of Andaras Prime. Although this is merely an unofficial message on our governments stance, we have noticed that you have denied the socialists the ability to ever again have a socialist state. We request that we may represent, or at least speak to the imprisoned socialist leaders, so that in a democratic nation such as yours that their freedom of speech be not suppressed.

Thankyou.
[signed]

Imperial Diadem Palace, Risban

Emperor Scorpius now sat at his desk, dressed in his normal suit and complimentary cape, going over some documents about new liberal reforms in Roach Busters when his door opened and the Foreign Minister walked in. Scorpius glanced at his older friend. "Yes?"

"More news from Farmina," said Alexander Perkins, handing the Supreme Ruler of Risban several documents. "The Socialists have been wiped out."

"Ah! Good for them," said the Emperor, glancing over the documents. He skimmed to the new rules to be placed on the rebellious territory. "Hmm... Good, good. All for the safety and security of their nation, eh? Pity about the actions against the Cult of Justinian though...Democracy.. Pff... Issue a statement applauding the President's actions."

"Yes, sir," said Perkins, bowing.




To: President Tobias Grey
From: The Risban Imperial Ministry for Foreign Affairs

The Grand Imperium of Risban congratulates Farmina on stomping out the socialist threat. We see the precautions you have taken and rules you have created as vital to the safety of your nation and applaud these actions.

Sincerely,
Alexander Perkins, Foreign Minister

Within a half-hour of President Grey's speech, a copy was on President Alexei Lorenov's desk. He scanned the document, reading the key points. What he read alarmed him. He picked up the red phone, "Get me the head of the KCID." Then he paged his secretary and asked him to summon military high command.

Fifteen minutes later Stepan Vladislav, head of the Kilani Central Intelligence Division, was hustled into the president's situation room. The People's Army High Command was seated around the table and almost all were involved in animated discussions.

"-preposterous! He can't really mean to-"

"The right to bear arms, gone? Why-"

"-more then ten people?"

Lorenov motioned for silence. The room feel quiet as he gestured at Vladislav, "Gentlemen, I am sure that you all know Director Vladislav of the KCID."

There was around of nods and greetings from the assembled generals.

The President began to speak again as attention was turned back to him, "Gentlemen, I have called this meeting because of this alarming report that I have just recieved regarding the rights of the citizens and fellow workers of Farmina. The socialists in this country attempted a rebllion against their corporate overlords. Unfortunately they were no match for the iron-fisted military. Regardless, what I find most disturbing is the new set of laws passed by their government."

"These laws make the Arandiorian people prisoners within their own country. They can no longer meet in groups larger of ten. They can no longer bear arms. They are no longer free. The socialist parties are essentially wiped out. And I believe that the president means to execute every last one of the brave revolutionaries captured by his armed forces."

"You will remember during our own civil war that we treated the other side as soldeirs; as prisoners. We cannot allow this to happen. BUt the most we can do is protest. Our military would be gravely outnumbered. Their population is almost three times that of ours. That is why I have called you here. We must do something!"

There was a murmur of agreement around the table.

"Director Vladislav, what options do we have?"

Stepan was looking through files when he was addressed. He looked up, "I believe our best bet would be to deploy sleeper agents to Farminia, and more specifically, Arandior."

Another murmur.

"Is it possible?

Stepan nodded. "I believe so. It wil have to be a small group and we will have to make air-tight identities for them. Otherwise they are dead."

"But what can we do about the revolutionaries?"

"We can offer to take them off of their government's hands. If they are holding any of them near a coast we can attempt a rescue. We are still awaiting intelligence regarding the prison camps."

The president nods, "Keep me updated. In the meantime, let us begin making contingency plans should the worst occur..."

Several hours later the media had a hold on the story and fiery editorals began appearing in the newspapers. Talking heads discussed them on TV. In almost al cases, they showed outrage. Outrage that such a thing could happen. Several large-scale meetings are held, showing solidarity with the prisoners.


The government sends the following message:

President Grey,

I am the PResident of the People's Republic of Kilani. We are a socialist country and we are saddened to hear of the recent inserruction within your own borders. More disturbing to us however is your callous set of laws passed, essentially wiping out any free will and self-determination. We must protest this treatment. In addition we ask that the prisoners taken during the revolution be given asylum in Kilani. They will be treated with the utmost care. We will resort to economic sanctions against your country if need be. We do not wish to become hostile, but your treatment of the left-wing elements in your country leave us no choice.

[signed]PResident Alexei Lorenov

This is shaping up to be awesome.

To Michel Andreas,
Foreign Affairs Minister,
Socialist Republic of Andaras Prime

One can understand you may be disturbed by actions taken by Farmina in light of the situation in Arandior, specifically ‘Article IX’. [Please note the provisions are not yet law, as government lawyers are still drafting the bills.]

However, concern over ‘Article IX’ is misplaced, as the legislation is not designed to blunt freedom of speech, but quell rebellious talk. Note that the plan outlined, suggested that talk on the matter of a breakaway Arandior was allowed, but to be subject to government licensing. The simple purpose is to prevent dangerous talk fomenting dangerous actions that could leave thousands, if not millions dead. Words are the most dangerous of weapons. This is obviously a complex moral maze, and ‘Article IX’ was designed with a notion of balance. Its necessity is recognized by all major political blocks in Parliament, excluding the Socialists.

Your other concern, regarding the treatment of the prisoners is simpler. Farmina was not partaking in a war. Hence the prisoners taken were illegally committing treasonous acts, not soldiers fighting in a war. Thus those taken held by government forces are criminals and not prisoners of war, and shall be treated as such. The government sees no other course of action in this matter.

With regard to your request to see the imprisoned Socialist leaders, although the government has considered your request; it has been rejected it as those imprisoned are not your citizens.

Tobias Grey
President of the Republic

Daniel Rickhart
Chancellor for Foreign Affairs

Democratic Republic of Farmina

A loud buzzer woke up Force Commander James Ackvick as he slept on his bed. He mumbled as he flipped open his bedside communicator.

"What the hell do you want at 3:30 in the morning..." Ackvick mumbled.

"Sorry to wake you sir, but it's important. Farmina has just staged a massive crackdown on the socialists!"

Ackvick mumbled again. He remember hearing about the operations. Force Commander Dasch mentioned that when he saw the thousands of Farminan military units moving through the Socialist-held cities. And he guessed that now they've finished said operation.

"I'll be right up," Ackvick said as he closed the communicator. He looked back at Force Commander Amy Ackvick, who happens to also be his wife. She looked a little disturbed from the buzzer.

"What was that about at this time of day?" she said sleepily.

"I think the Farminan situation has just escalated to incalculable difficulties," he said as he got up.

--------

"Report," James Ackvick said as he walked into the situation room.

"Sir, we've just recieved a global communique. Let me put it up on the viewer on replay"

Ackvick took a seat, and turned his seat towards the viewscreen. It started to play.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said with a cautious opening, “I bring you victory.”

“As of a few hours ago, the Socialist ‘Worker’s Council’ was captured in the final stage of fighting and surrendered unconditionally.”

“Let me read you the surrender document. ‘The Worker’s Council of Arandior hereby announces its unanimous and unconditional surrender as of three o’clock.

The Worker’s Council of Arandior hereby instructs all remaining rebels to surrender to the rightful government of Farmina.

The Worker’s Council of Arandior hereby recognizes that there is no People’s Republic of Arandior, and it has never, or will never exist. Arandior is the rightful territory of the Democratic Republic of Farmina.

The Worker’s Council of Arandior hereby confesses to fomenting and leading a rebellion against the rightful state of Farmina.

The Worker’s Council hereby confesses to be in the wrong.

Signed Jamison Reilly, William Peters, Gregory Parker, Charles Hansard, General Steven Parms, General Phillip Walker, General Shane Watson, Supreme Commander Varius Aricar.’ Fellow Farminans, we are whole again.”

“Our victory is absolute, hostilities completely ceased. All remaining rebels are dead or captured.”

“Thousands of rebels are prisoner, by capture or surrender. However it should be noted that there was no war. Hence our prisoners are not prisoners of war and do not have the rights of prisoners of war.”

“I should also mention that two Socialist members of Parliament have been arrested for their part in these events. Both were representatives of Arandior.”

“Tomorrow the Parliament shall be passing into effect measures to prevent this tragedy from reoccurring. I am promised support by Liberal leader James Palmer, so passage is ensured. I shall now read the basic intention of the articles from the bill.

‘Article I. Arandior shall be placed under Martial Law, and remain so at the Parliament’s pleasure.

Article II. Arandior shall be stripped of Parliamentary representation; and its citizens shall be forbidden to partake in democratic elections for ten years, extendible at the Parliament’s pleasure.

Article III. The ownership of firearms shall be banned in Arandior, punishable by death.

Article IV. Meetings of more than ten persons are banned within Arandior, punishable by death.

Article V. Within Arandior a ten percent occupation tax shall be levied on income, in addition to income tax, and shall remain so at the Parliament’s pleasure.

Article VI. Failing to report a person one knows as a member of the Cult of Justinian is punishable by six years imprisonment.

Article VII. Being a member of, of believer in the teachings of, the Cult of Justinian is punishable by repossession of all wealth by the state and re-education. Repeat offenders are punished by death by dismemberment.

Article VIII. Being a preacher of, or leader of, the Cult of Justinian is punishable by dead by dismemberment.

Article IX. Texts depicting an independent Socialist Arandior without government approval is banned. Owning a copy is punishable by a fine of 1,000,000 Harens. Publishing such a book is punishable by death.

Article X. All travel in and out of Arandior is strictly regulated by the government. The government has the right to establish a settlement program within Arandior. Such settlers retain voting rights of their home province.

Article XI. All property of convicted rebels is property of the government of Farmina.

Article XII. Any abandoned buildings and farms in Arandior are property of the Farminan government.

Article XIII. A consumption tax of undecided weight shall be levied in Arandior to cover the costs of reconstruction.’”

“May the world know not to test our metal,” said Tobias, mimicking his earlier speech, “May the world know democracy’s jackboot. All those who stand against our freedom and unity now know the price. And they stand back as they now that our price is too high. Long live the Farmina!”

"Holy shit." Ackvick said in surprise and shock, just as Amy Ackvick walked into the room.

Just then, a digital trill noise came from the console. "Sir, we have Dasch on line 4."

"Put him through." Ackvick said dully. Amy sat down behind him, and put her hand into his.

The main viewscreen was replaced with Dasch's face. "Dasch here. We already have reports of socialists being moved out of the cities to places I'm not sure about. I'm guessing from the wording that he's going to execute them all, like Hitler many years ago!"

Ackvick growled. He looked around the room, and then back at him. "If I ever try to start something without finding out the facts first, please shoot me." James Ackvick muttered sarcastically, though he didn't give the impression he was. Dasch chuckled to the comment. "Alright... James said. "I know what we're going to do. Dasch, sit tight while we discuss ideas."

Dasch nodded. "Roger, Dasch out," he said as the viewscreen shut down, and resumed a standard tactical view of the globe.

"I wanted to ensure that we talked about this in a secure fashion. I don't want this to be getting out, even through a level ten clearence encrypted channel."

The other high men and women [not force commanders] nodded. as they turned back towards him.

"With this, this is getting to far." Ackvick said quietly. "I'd send military action, but we're outgunned, and chances are we'd be turned into plate glass."

He paused, pondering. The room stayed silent. "I suppose the only thing I can really do is to talk to Grey personally. I think it's time to play guessing games and get straight to the point. Get him on the line."

MAJOR EDIT - The drop did not happen!

KCID's agents enter the country in a somewhat less dramatic way. The lead agent, Vasily Yakushin, enters the country via a Rodenka Air flight, from Rodenka, the country to the north of Kilani. He speaks with a passable Rodenkan accent and he is also speaking in German, the national language of Rodenka. His passport identifies him as Petir Muller, a Rodenkan immigrant seeking work. He leaves the airport and rents a car, heading for a hotel a few blocks away. There, he will rendevous with the rest of the team in a small restaraunt. They will begin recon of the surrounding areas and set up safe-houses. In a few days they will begin preperations for their first operation.

To Alexander Perkins,
Foreign Minister,
Empire of Risban

The people of Farmina are glad you see the necessity in the course of action we take and the efficiency with which we take it. May your nation remain in the light.

Tobias Grey
President of the Republic

Daniel Rickhart
Chancellor for Foreign Affairs

Democratic Republic of Farmina

---

To President Alexi Lorenov,
People’s Republic of Kilani

Although your concerns are understandable, we have no intention of wiping out free-will in Arandior. Our actions are purely precautionary and if the province remains well behaved, no doubt we shall revise the precautions we have taken. People may still go about their business as they see fit; with the most major burden being purely financial. However we certainly deny Arandior self-determination, as there is no concept of Arandior, outside that where Arandior is a part of Farmina.

The prisoners held by the Farminan government are awaiting trial and subsequent punishment. We shall not allow criminals to walk free due to foreign qualms.

On the final note, we insist that you do not threaten us. Our economy is far more valuable than yours, and any sanctions would hurt your nation more than ours. If you attempt military action, then Kilani shall be called the Second Arandior.

Tobias Grey
President of the Republic

Daniel Rickhart
Chancellor for Foreign Affairs

Democratic Republic of Farmina

Secret Communication via NKVD operatives.

To: President Tobias Grey, President of the Republic
From: Andaras Prime President Samuel Benson, Party Chairman

I thought it would be best if I were to contact you personally over this situation. Although it seems you have motives for 'Article IX', it still concerns me that your government has censored these socialists, and they were excluded from the drafting of that bill. I think it unfair that an entire ideology must be suppressed because of the actions of some of it's more radical interpreters, you must realise that productive resources being in the hands of the people is an ideal all nationstates can aspire to. I ask that this 'Article IX' be reconsidered before the drafting phase of that legislation can be passed before your parliament. Democracy itself means having equal representation in both left and right, would you overtly suppress right wing politics if their was a capitalist rebellion in your nation tommorrow?

Also, I would like to say that I understand that the Arandiorian socialists were not regarded as prisoners of war. But only if it is a technicality, and not because you wish to avoid giving them the rights that would be afforded to them as prisoners of war. Can I have your word that they would not be tortured into giving false testimony, or mistreated in any way. I as long time President to the Republic understand your situation, you must protect your people, but the party I belong to and lead will not understand if word of any maltreatment of socialist prisoners reaches us. This is not an intended threat, but I must tell you to tread carefully in this issue. And therefore I request that we may negociate that socialist refugees and those wishing to leave your nations be repatriated to Andaras Prime, that is if you wish to suppress their ideals of equality.

Thankyou.
[signed]

To President Samuel Benson,
Party Chairman
Andaras Prime

The Parliament shall consider ‘Article IX’ accepting or rejecting it on its merits. To ease your concerns, the Parliament shall be instructed to spend additional time debating this portion of the now drafted legislation. To further address your concerns, may it be pointed out that only texts relating to an independent Arandior are to be regulated. Books professing Socialism and Communism, which do not refer to a breakaway Arandior are not to come under such regulation. For example, the Farminan left are still more than welcome to read Marx.

Furthermore you have the promise of the Presidency that those held after the fighting in Arandior will not be tortured into false testimony or mistreated. We feel this is a great enough assurance, and do not see the need for foreign diplomats to stroll the halls of Farminan prisons.

It is hoped your concerns are allayed.

Daniel Rickhart
Chancellor for Foreign Affairs

Tobias Grey
President of the Republic

Democratic Republic of Farmina

President Christine Gregoire looked outside at the human rights protesters demending that she do something about the Farminan crackdown on the Socialists. Suddenly, a group of Farminan immigrants marched right up to the police holding the protesters back and began to chant:

“Justinian, in the darkness you will guide us.
In your light we shall shine.
In your service we are humbled.
In your absence we are blind.”

The Secratary of State came up to her and said,, 'Those are Farminans who are members of the Cult of Justinian."

Gregoire nodded. A lot of Farminans had immigrated to Cascadia in the last few years. That was one of the reasons why Cascadia had sent dipomats to the ball.

OOC: I very much doubt there are Cultists in Cascadia. They were created by a force trying to cause trouble in Farmina and tend to have no intention of leaving. They praise the butchery committed under Justinian and serve the purpose of undoing democracy and the Moralists. Even if some did leave, would you really allow them into your nation?

Another IC post on the way.

Tobias Grey felt the cigarette roll along his lips. Everything was falling neatly into place. The President enjoyed nothing more than a quality cigarette. He moved his lips and the cigarette rolled back the other way.

Trials for the first of the traitors had begun earlier today. Tobias Grey didn’t expect them to last too long; the signed confessions verged on incontrovertible. Some of the prisoners might not be as easy to prove guilt; but Grey was convinced they would overwhelmingly get the cigarette and the blindfold in the end.

Tobias Grey watched as the small orange light came very close to his lips. Gently he removed the cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it out. The President had called an emergency session of Parliament today, passing through the “Democratic Stability Act,” only a couple of days after the measures had been announced. The debate had been long but the vote one sided. A few amendments to satisfy Jamie Palmer; mainly abolishing the minimum wage in Arandior were made. Lord Palmer had argued that such a measure would control Arandior’s unemployment and in turn increase the revenue generated by the occupation and reconstruction taxes. The President had not been in the mood to argue back, and the point was conceded to let the Liberal leader have his way.

Things were moving forward fast, very fast, just as Tobias had hoped. Not even a week had passed and he was getting his way unchallenged. International leaders queried and complained, but the agenda had gone forward unhindered. Tobias knew he had thrown the ball into the world’s corner, “And they are too weak to throw it back.”

The military had been kept on full alert. The foreigners still might try something. If a couple of them united they would have the power to cause a severe problem. Tobias Grey, despite being cautious, was relaxed. After all he was on cigarette break or ‘smoko’ as Farminans called it.

There was a brief knock on the door and a tall man entered without beckoning, “Tobias, how many times have I told you smoking will kill you?”

“Smoking will kill me Dan?” questioned the President, to his Chancellor for Foreign Affairs, “As opposed to being stabbed, shot at, exploded and plane crashes, which obviously won’t kill me.”

“Smoking is still bad for your health Tobias,” responded Rickhart.

“Chancellor,” said Tobias, putting on a tone of mock formality, “Why have you broken my peace?”

“I have considered the question of the Mes as you requested,” said Rickhart.

Tobias nodded, indicating for Rickhart to go on.

Rickhart looked at Grey, past his eyes to his mind, “The Mes distrust us and despise us. They feel we cheated them over Bashar and have hindered them over Donald. These are both potential triggers, for what I see as a clash of systems, democracy versus semi-autocracy. The Messians are patriotic and tend to preserve the old ways. Change is slow and cautionary; but our democracy has been acid on them. Change has sped up; and they fear it.”

Rickhart gave a pause, “But they are clever. The see us as strong and fear us. Their eyes view our experience and desire it, they see we have much to teach. They view our wealth of resources and see benefits in trade. They see a powerful ally and a dangerous enemy. Dangerous enemies need to be neutered, by if an ally can be made, then they see a golden future.”

Rickhart’s mobile gave a single ring, he pulled it out, pressed a button, “Speak of the devil.”

Rickhart nodded and walked out. Tobias pulled out another cigarette.

OOC: Joint post. Long and secondary to the plot.
IC:

Rickhart walked into Grey's office, and smiled a harsh smile, “Tobias you have a call.”
Grey looked at his phone and turned to Rickhart, “Who is it and how long have they been waiting?”

“Commander Ackvick,” responded Rickhart, “I’ve made battle his way through a dozen secretaries to speak to you. Ah revenge...”

Tobias eyed Rickhart suspiciously, not having a clue what he was talking about, he picked up the handset, “Commander Ackvick, may inquire what you want.”

“Yes, President Grey. I think we need to have a talk. First of all, I’m sorry about the harsh times going on in Farmina. I don’t think I need to list it all,” began Ackvick.

“I’m quite aware what’s going on,” said Grey“Is there a reason you're calling me about this? I have things to do.”

“First of all, I hear that you have a rebellion on your hands,” noted Ackvick.

“Had,” said Tobias Grey, “It is now absolutely defeated. Now is the time to prevent reoccurrence.”

“I was thinking, do you need any help with securing your borders?” asked Ackvick.

“I don’t think so,” said Tobias, “So far we have had complaints, but that is it. I don’t think the Socialists have the moral might to unite and move against us. They are a weak type, like those in Arandior, their minds easily broken. However if they do grow the mind, then you offer shall be remembered.”

“Alright. But I do think that your treatment of prisoners, or at least allegedly, is quite, let's just say, cruel. Even for traitors,” responded Ackvick.

“A bullet is an honourable death,” said Grey with the utmost conviction, “They will get trials and punishments. It is not unreasonable.”

“But I must say. If there's been a rebellion, then that must mean that there are people who do not like the government. Unless you find some way of pleasing them, then unless you use fear, they'll do it again,” warned Ackvick.

“Fear is one of many weapons,” responded Tobias, “But we shall take their wealth and their weapons. We shall cripple their ability to organize. From a distance they shall view concensus government by democracy. In time they shall return to the fold. And if they don't, then in their weakness, we shall blast them to the stone age all over again."

“I understand,” Ackvick said, not exactly pleased with his answer.

“May I ask what is the official Messian position on our actions?” asked Grey.

“Officially, we cannot condone the human rights abuses. Unofficially, we’re neutral. We think that traitors should be punished, but at the same time, this is more than just one or more people going against the government, but a whole section of your country,” said Ackvick, “It’s a tricky position, and I think you can understand why we feel queasy about the thought.”

“All of Farmina feels queasy,” said Tobias, “Even Chancellor Rickhart has had some objections. But we must do everything we can to prevent a repeat; and make Arandior recognize that democratic co-operation and not succession is the way forward.”

“And if I may ask, what do you think of us?” queried Ackvick.

Tobias scratched his beard thoughtfully, "We are cautious towards you. You're nation seems well intentioned, but we are concerned about the corruptibility of your system. We are concerned that you listen to the people, but that you do not hear."

“Heh. Tobias (or whatever I should call you in this), we have 80 years of hindsight on what happens when governments go corrupt. Are you familiar with our region's history?” Ackvick said.

“You were many and now you are one,” said Grey briefly, “The shape of corruption changes, humanity doesn't. The only defence is change.”

“And safeguards, right,” Ackvick said, “We have a list of recruitment guidelines for people like myself that is longer than the bible. And then we have each other. We can, and have removed a corrupt Force Commander before.”

“What if there is more than one?” pointed out Tobias, “Corruption is a disease that jumps from person to person. Especially considering that your Commanders are raised from a young age. It would serve as a separation from reality.”

“Then we have the next level down. If there is a majority vote inside the military core, we can be ousted,” explained Ackvick

“It collapses into democracy,” retorted Tobias.

“But....” Ackvick said, “That is a true possibility.”

Ackvick pressed onto more important things on his mind, “Anyways, I think we need to discuss two more very pressing issues.”

“Speak,” said Tobias.

“First of all, remember that you said that you would supply the essentials to our men and women stationed in your country?” reminded Ackvick.

“Correct,” said Tobias.

“Well...we need hydrogen,” told Ackvick.

“What for?” said Tobias mildly worried.

“We use a completely alternate fuel to you, mainly because of the aforementioned oil crisis. Hydrogen is what powers our vehicles,” explained Ackvick,
“And we’re running short. You could either give us some or let us ship some in.”

“Its not like your vehicles need to go anywhere is it?” said Tobias.

“If Dasch ever needed to go to your palace, yes,” suggested Ackvick, “Or anywhere else for that matter,”

“I will organise a small amount,” said the President.

“Thank you. And the final pressing matter. Donald's body.”

“It has already been transferred to your garrison here,” said Tobias.

“We know, but we want it returned to our country for burial,” said Avkick.

“That can be done,” said Tobias, “Transport shall be arranged.”

“Thank you, President Grey,” said Ackvick “That should be all.”

“Goodbye Commander Ackick,” responded Grey hanging up.

In the KCID headquarters building in downtown Green River, Stepan was looking over the altest reports. He looked up at the orderly. Although technically under the jurisdiction of the civilian governemnt, KCID was a military entity.

"Are these reports true?" he asked.

The orderly nodded. "Yes, Director. They're going to be executing the vast majority of them. Apparently they were tricked into signing confessions when they were captured."

Stepan muttered something about capitalist swine under his breath as he filtered through some more files. This situation had become top priority. His eyes fell on a report of prison locations. He scanned it breifly, "So, any of them near the coast."

The orderly responded with a nod, spreading a map of Farmina out on the desk. "The nation is an island for god's sake. There are several prisons within thirty kilometers of the coast. So far, we only have confirmed reports of one holding socialist prisoners."

Stepan nodded, taking a big gulp of coffee. He'd been up the past few nights trying to figure this out. How to deal with it? Well, now he had a chance. "The President has already authroized me to do wahtever is neccessary to secure the lives of any of our Arandiorian comrades. As such,, I will authorize a rescue attempt by a SID company. Do we have any ships in the area?"

THe orderly turned in his chair and tapped at his keyboard. "Eh...Yes, sir. The escort carrier Red Tide is in the area, along with it's escorts. It was on a long-range exercise and can be within heliocopter range of the prison within a day or two. And we can have a SID team out there in thirty-six hours. It'll be a stretch, but if we send a fuel tanker with the transport plane they can make it. The team will have to drop by parachute and then get picked up by the ships, but it could work."

Stepan considered for a moment. "Make it so."

+++

Andrei Loveko was head of the SID team picked for the mission. He was informed by a brief, secure telephone call to report for a mission briefing. A few hours later he and his tcompany of thirty-two men were boarding a transport plane for a mid-ocean rendevous with the Red Tide and it's escort group.

He had been briefed and would be briefing his company once they were over the water. Satellite reconiassance had shown it to be located in an isolated area, as most prisons were. The number of guards was yet unknown, but it was hoped that the team could get in and out before too many of them were alerted. They had the names of the prisoners and a few grainy photographs, some taken only a week previously during the insurrection.

Andrei was lost in his own thoughts for most of the trip, catching some sleep and doing his best to think over the plan. He was a career soldier, recruited into the special forces at the beginning of Kilani's civil war. He had been a counter-insurgent specialist then, but had since carried out several black-ops missions against the remenants of the New Republican terrorists.

They were twenty-four hours out from Kilani now. They had made a brief stop-over in Listenisse, but hadn't bothered to inform the governemnt of their intent or the purpose of the plane. All they knew was that it was carrying suppplies to a "classified destination".

Time was not on their side...

The four men walked into the small gravel courtyard, two soldiers following behind them. Jamison Reilly, William Peters, Gregory Parker and Charles Hansard, the four members of the “Worker’s Council of Arandior” looked around and saw walls in every direction. Each was resigned to his fate; each had signed the surrender and knew how it read, “The Worker’s Council of Arandior hereby confesses to fomenting and leading a rebellion against the rightful state of Farmina.” The four men had not wasted their efforts in court; they accepted their own confession in the surrender and pleaded guilty. Just five days since they began their failed rebellion and now they would pay the ultimate price. How quickly things moved.

“Up over that side of the yard,” Sergeant James Clamid instructed the four prisoners, “If you would be so kind.”

The four men walked solemnly towards the far side. The bricks were heavily chipped from where previous shots missed. On the side they had come from twelve soldiers stood patiently with rifles at their sides.

Sergeant Clamid walked over to the four Socialist leaders, “Now have any of you done this before?”

William Peters smiled, just a little, but the other three Socialists didn’t find the humour in the situation.

“Always gets a laugh,” said Sergeant Clamid, holding out his hands containing a number of articles, “Now you are each entitled to one cigarette and one blindfold each.”

All the socialists took blindfolds, but only two took cigarettes. “What are you afraid smokes are going to kill you?” asked the Sergeant, putting the spare cigarettes in his pocket.

“Go to hell,” muttered Jamison Reilly.

“Now that is no way to talk. No need to be a misery, better to go happy, especially where you’re going,” said Clamid removing his lighter and lighting up for the two smoking Socialists, “Well I hope you all enjoyed your last meal, because you aren’t getting another one.”

Putting the lighter back in his pocket, Clamid began to help the prisoners tie their blindfolds. Once he was finished he commented, “Well you’ve all been mighty fine about this. Now stand right up against the wall; please face away from it.”

As the Sergeant proceeded to the opposite wall, “Stand nice and straight now you hear. Think of it like a class photo. Yeah, that’s the way, good fellows. Enjoying those mighty fine cigarettes. Smile gentlemen, nice and wide.”

He paused for a few seconds, “Those expressions will have to do. Now all of you; say ‘cheese’.”

The soldiers raised their rifles and released a single volley in one swift move. “Jolly good show,” commented Sergeant Clamid, “Damn fine way to go.”

OOC: The Farminans immigrated to Cascadia because of the jobs there. Some of them are Cultists. Cascadia lets anyone in based on the person's skills.

IC:

President Gregoire watched the Cultists chant in front the the President's Palace in Vancouver, the capitial of Cascadia. Everyone was enchanted by the sound of 395 people chanting in unison.

"Madam President, we need to go to the cabinet meeting," said the Secratary of State.

Gregoire took a monment to stop looking at the cultists.

---

the leader of the Cultists smilied. He had already had everyone around him paying attention. Now he could use that to his advantage.

Dasch sits back in his chair in the command room. A lot of things have happened since Donald's murder. A lot to think about, but with everything going on, the MES has been more or less out of it. They would have been a part of crushing the resistance, but Dasch knew that if they had any casualties, they would be even more severely undermanned in this god-forsaken country.

"Sir, you better take a look at this."

Dasch opened up an eye. "What is it Corporal?"

"There is an apparent transport aircraft approaching the Farminan coast. Unknown signature.”

Dasch got up, now fully aware. ”Can we send a message to them? They are probably not aware that this entire country is a no fly-zone.”

”Let me see what I can do, sir.”

”Once you find their frequency, put me on the line,” Dasch said with concern.

After a pause, the Corporal turned around. ”Found it, sir.”

Dasch got up and picked up the receiver. ”This is the Militia Enforced State Command Aircraft Tango 3 to unidentified aircraft. You are entering a no-fly zone. Turn around, I repeat! Turn around or you may be fired upon by Farminan units!”

Dasch then waited for the response. He hoped they would listen to him, because he knew the Farminans were much less forgiving.

”Sir, that plane couldn’t have been launched from a land base. It’s much too small. It looks like a carrier aircraft.”, the Commander said to Dasch while he waited. ”I’m betting that there is a carrier fleet nearby.”

Dasch nodded. ”Task Force 2 is in the area, correct?” Dasch said.

The Commander nodded. ”Yes sir, they should be about five-hundred miles from Farminan waters on routine patrol.”

”Alright," Dasch said. ”Order the fleet confirmation Fox Delta-Niner to search for a possible fleet in their area.”

”Yessir." the Commander said without spacing out the words.

Dasch walked back over to the Corporal. ”They should have received it by now. Did you get the wrong frequency?”

”Possible, sir. Let me try combining some of the common bands. The Farminans might hear it, but we would tell them anyways, right sir?”

Dasch nodded. ”I will, if anything just to boost their trust with us.” He picked up the receiver again. The Corporal typed in a few things into the communicator, then gave him a thumbs up, indicating he was live.

”This is the Militia Enforced State Command Aircraft Tango 3 to unidentified aircraft. You are entering a no-fly zone. Turn around, I repeat! Turn around or you may be fired upon by Farminan units!” Dasch repeated. He then waited for their reply, while dialing the Farminan command, hoping to whatever God there may be that they won't open fire immediately.

Andrei was in the cockpit, discussing a few last minute things with the pilots when the radio call came through. He glanced at the pilot, "I thought you said we would be coming in above the radar, comrade."

The pilot looked over his instruments, reaching for the radio. "That's what I thought. Maybe they have a AWACs plane in the area. You're going to have to jump! I'll stall them as long as I can."

Andrei did some quick calculations in his head, "If we jump now we'll be twenty kilometers from the target! That'll put us hours behind schedule!"

The Pilot shrugged, "Sorry comrade..." HE depressed the mic button, "Tango Three, this is Kilani Aleph Whiskey. We're having GPS problems. We were not aware of our current position. We were on an exercise with our fleet and got seperated. Please guide us to heading Three-zero-niner."

In the cargo compartment, the SID team finished strapping on their equipment. There was a rush of wind as the rear cargo door opened. Andrei turned, motioning to them, "Let's go! Remember you're training! don't open until the last possible minute! Go! Go! Go!'

Within seconds the cargo compartment was empty, except for an crew member who closed the door.

"Sir, I'm picking up a few dozen blips on radar."

Dasch slammed his fist on the desk. "Damnit. That means they're trying to sneak in!"

Dasch paused for a moment. "Alright, patch me through to Farminan high command. At least we can get a brownie point for their stupidity."

Dasch typed in a few things into the switchboard. "This is the Militia Enforced State Command Plane Tango 3 to Farminan command. We have an unknown aircraft entering Farminan airspace. They seem to be deploying something from their plane, probable soldiers. Please respond immediately."

Supreme Commander Aricar looked at the communiqué from the Messians. He hadn’t thought they had aircrafts surveying tonight with their hydrogen shortage, good thing they did. Seemed to him like they were trying to buy a favor, no doubt more of their precious hydrogen. “They’ve earned their hydrogen this time,” he thought, and made a note to requisition a large amount for them.

“We have it,” yelled his adjutant Colonel Irvine, working furiously at his computer.

Aricar walked over to the Colonel Irvine’s computer, “Show me the satellite feed.”

Aricar watched as the footage started, with the plane flying into the screen, before releasing several shots. Aricar’s attention was caught as the printer began to shoot off a number of stills from the replayed feed. The footage was paused, and the packages zoomed in on; they were people falling through the air. The printers put more of the stills on paper.

Aricar grabbed his phone and dialed a pre-set number, “Get me General Parms…then wake him! Ah, General, we have a security problem east of your forces. Someone has landed men east of your forces. We are sending you the appropriate coordinates and satellite feeds now. We expect they are heading north, but the satellites may lose them the bush land.”

“North, into the bush land,” said Parms, “I shall deploy my forces to hunt them out, immediately.”

“Please try and keep them alive,” said Aricar, “We may have an international incident on their hand.”

Aricar hung up without another word, Irvine already patching Parms the satellite feed. Aricar began to dial another number; no doubt the White Palace would like to hear about this. After that, hydrogen, lots of hydrogen.

"This is Fleet Admiral Peterson to Tango 3, we have the fleet in visual range, over."

Dasch sat down in front of the video phone. "Fleet strength, Admiral?" Dasch said quickly.

"One support carrier, and various supporing vessels, sir. Not a major threat to us."

"Roger, Admiral. Move your fleet into firing range, identify, and order them to stand down and head away from this area. If this resist, fire warning shots."

"Will do. Peterson out."

--------

The MES fleet of four Bradley anti-air vessels, six Dominator 'pocket-cruisers', two Thunder Class battleships, one Punisher class Dreadnought, and one Champion class carrier sails ever closer to the Kilanian fleet. The Admiral looked through binoculars and could see the ships in the far distance. He picked up his communicator.

"This is Admiral Peterson of the Militia Enforced State Task Force 2. We demand that you stand down immediately, and declare your intentions!"

Tobias Grey hated being woken up during the night. General Parms was hunting some parachute troops east of Arandior and the Messians had decided to pick a fight with some foreign fleet or another.

A night never went by normally. Never completely normal. Hitting the enter button, his electronic message flew to Commander Dasch.

To Commander Dasch

The political ramifications of any action should be considered. The opening of hostilities has a negative political ramification. Just as preventing an aircraft may have negative political ramifications.

Then again, acting weak towards a nation that could be hostile is also a poor course of action, leading to potentially higher causalities.

I am sure we can rely on your good judgment.

From Tobias Grey
President of the Republic

Tobias wondered if Dasch would have a clue what the President was talking about.

OOC: How do you pick up human beings on radar? They barely register. I believe that humans lack the proper surfaces for RADAR to reflect off of. Essentially, they don't exist on a radar screen.

IC:

The Commodore of the Kilani task force was startled to hear from his radio officer that they were being hailed. They had, of course, detected the incoming fleet, but had decided that it was nothing. His taskforce was a single carrier, three missile cruisers, two cruisers, seven destroyers, and a single battleship.

The four orbiting Lu-45 Hawk fighters shifted into a defensive pattern as signals were relayed back and forth from the fleet. A response was sent to Task Force Two.

This is the Kilani carrier group Alpha. We are in international waters and have been conducting a long-range exercise. We are preparing to head home. We are prepared to defend ourselves if neccessary. We have comitted no hostile act and are within international waters.

A further eight Hawks were scrambled, along with four Lu-12 bombers.

Meanwhile, Andrei and his men were opening their chutes at about 800 feet. With barely enough time to slow down, they managed to come out of it with only a few sprains and bruises. The SID team quickly regrouped.

"In all likelihood, we've already been comprimised. We'll do our best to carry out our mission. We'll dissepear into the landscape. Set up counter-tracking and cover our trail. This is a large area and it will take them a long time to find us. Let's move."

The thirty men dissepeared into the undergrowth after doing their best to remove evidence of their prescense.

General Walter Parms looked over his map of the bush land that the infiltrators had slunk off into. If the infiltrators went south they would be going back they way they came. Parms had dismissed that straight away.

To the west were Arandior and his own encampment. Parms doubted that the infilitrators would be heading west, far too dangerous.

East north east was Alvick, with Alvick Prison on the Western outskirts. Possible, but not plausible. The General had ordered the chief of security there to be cautious, but there was nothing more he could do.

North was where Parms suspected the infiltrators were going; beyond the clearing was a valuable gas works, pumping out precious natural gas. Parms had seen the potential target and acted; moving all his fast attack units to defend the gas works.

Parms had also deployed infantry units all along the western front of the bush land. Parms made a gentle pushing motion over the map, just at the infantry units were beginning a giant sweep, west to the east to flush the infiltrators out. He had deployed several more infantry units to the south and soon they would begin sweeping north, pushing the infiltrators towards the heavily guarded gas works.

The General looked over the map one more time; then he rolled it up. Colonel Gravy could coordinate operations till morning, the General was going back to bed.

It had taken them most of the proceeding day, but ANdrei and his team had managed to get to their target: Alvick Prison, as it was referred to on their maps. Rather unfortunately, it was near a major population center. But there was nothing they could do about that. As night fell, Andrei sent a four man team to cut the phone and power lines on the prearranged signal.

The great things about prisons is that they were built to keep people in, not out. Despite that, the chain-link fences, guard towers, and razorwire would present a problem to any infiltrators. Andrei and his remaining twenty-eight men were spread out in a loose semi-circle in front of the prison, just within the tree-line. He examined the guard towers through a small pair of binoculars. About what you would expect. Guards armed with shotguns and bolt-action rifles. Nothing too serious.

He motioned two men toting Druganov SVU sniper rifles. He spoke to them quietly, indicating the nearest guard towers as targets for them. Two other men, armed with AKS-74Us, would stay with them to provide rear security. The rest of the men would infiltrate the prison and hopefully get the socialist political prisoners out.

Andrei put on his balaclava, pulled his NVGs on, and took out a long-range radio and tapped a button or two, sending a single burst transmission to the fleet waiting in international waters. A few moments later he raised his short-range radio and spoke one word: "Go."

The four man team hit the detanators on their explosives, toppling the power and telephone poles to the ground in a cascade of sparks. Almost simeltaneously the twenty-four men rose from their positions and started forward, their dark green fatigues blending in with the darkened terrain. In a few moments they were at the fence and began cutting through the links. The first man is in the prison complex fifteen secnds after the go signal.

The two snipers began firing at targets as they presented themselves, the eerie green glow of their night optics providing them with an advantage over the confused prison guards.


Meanwhile, a little over 90 kilometers away, the carrier comms officer had picked up the transmission and turned it over to the captain. It was a single word: Revolution. He turned to his XO, "Get those heliocopters in the air."

Three Mi-14 heliocopters begin warming up on the carrier deck. Two are for the special forces and the prisoners. One carrys a platoon of Kilani Marines. Beside them a single Mi-24 gunship is also beginning flight preperations. In a few minutes they will be over the water, flying low to avoid radar contact.

OOC: My radar at least would see them, mainly because A) I've already got a radar fix on your aircraft, and B) It would be detectable, but just barely. Like specs on the radar. Normally would be taken as glitches, but when really focusing on a single radar contact, you can assume.
--------

The Messian fleet slowly crawled towards the Kilani fleet, barrels at neutral to now show themselves a threat, and aircraft fueled up and armed, but still on deck, standing by.

The admiral could see the fleet more clearly now. They were more numerous than he thought, but between his three heavy hitters plus his full-sized carrier, they were no match. He had leverage to throw, and he was ready to have a discussion with them.

He picked up his communicator. "This is Admiral Peterson to Kilani carrier group. We would appreciate if you could leave this area immediately. We have a major situation going on in this area, and for your safety, you must leave this area immediately, and withdrawl to a position of at least six-hundred miles away from the country of Farmina."

He lied to them. In fact, he hoped to force the Kilani aircraft to land on his own deck of his carrier. It would be the most bloodless way of getting what they needed, as from his reports, the aircraft were shortranged carrier aircraft, and they would need a place to land that was not in Farminan territory. And he knew he was much more forgiving than the Farminans were. However, if they persisted to stay, he would have to find an alternative.

--------

Dasch checked the radar again. He couldn't see anything new coming. He wondered who they were, and what they were up to. Infiltrators? Sabateurs? Rescuers for the prisoners? Had to be one of the three, and with the timing of the civil war, he guessed the latter. Dasch got up.

"Patch me through to Farminan high command." Dasch said.

After a few button presses, Dasch sat in front of the communicator. "This is Force Commander Dasch to Farminan military command. I have a feeling...with the timing of the civil uprising, that they are attempting a rescue. Should we deploy our local force to investigate? Over."

The Kilani commander sends a response to his counter-part:

We are operating within international waters. If there is a problem, we will be able to handle ourselves. Our safety should not be your concern. We will be remaining on station to conduct rescue drills. We must ask that you do not come any closer to our forces.

The commander turned to his comms officer, "Tell Aleph Flight to buzz them. Nothing too serious just a fly-by to let them know we're here."

"Yes, sir. Aleph-One this is Foxtrot Command. Do a flyby on that fleet. Nothing too intimidating."

In the cockpit of his brand new Lu-45 Hawk, Major Ivan Yajushin smiled under his oxygen mask.

"You heard Foxtrot, let's do it. Keep your weapons off. We are weapons tight, I repeat, weapons tight."

The four fighter craft rolled over and dived to under two hundred feet. Moving at just over Mach Two the four craft buzzed the approaching fleet. Yakushin waved to a suprised looking sailor on the deck of one the ships before the flight peeled off, kicked in the afterburners, and began returning to their flight pattern.


The four heliocopters continued towards the Farminian coast. So far they hadn't been detected.

"Ten minutes to target, comrades."


The transport that had dropped off the team was coming in on an approach vector to the Kilani fleet, preparing to land on the carrier.

The Admiral cringed. He didn't want to fight if he didn't need to. He saw the flyover, but considering it was an escort carrier, he didn't expect heavy resistance. "Move our fleet in between the Kilani fleet and the Farminan coast. Then move closer to them to try to back them away. And get our fighters into launch positions. This may turn ugly."

"Yes Admiral," the commander on deck said. The admiral then picked up the communicator again.

"This is Admiral Peterson to Kilani carrier group. We must persist that you leave this area immediately. We do not wish to fight, but if you refuse...we may have no choice. I don't want blood on my hands, or another war, so I suggest that you head out of this area. It is for your own good."

OOC: Describing my prison would be godmoding, you must let me describe it. I’ll let you off with a warning.

IC:

Explosions roared off not far from Warren Anderson. Next he knew guards were collapsing all around. He didn’t think anyone else was left alive. “Smoke,” he swore dropping to the floor, “Snipers.”

Two machine guns opened up, the gunners spurting bullets from within their blockhouses. More guards were running forward with rifles, bout twenty in all. But they were already falling. Anderson began returning fire, as did the other guards, while diving for cover. But all in all this was a skeleton shift; perhaps in more ways than one.

---

General Walter Parms placed a red marker on the map; lying in bed waiting wasn’t that fun. The infiltrators had played their cards. Colonel Jackson was transferring all the fast attack units from the gasworks towards the prison. Parms had also ordered his infantry units to come up behind the infiltrators.

“Sir, we have reports of three incoming helicopters,” said Colonel Gravy, “What should we do?”

“Leave them be,” said Parms, “We walk softly for now. How much damage could three helicopters do?”

“As you wish Lord General,” said Colonel Gravy.

General Parms then stopped and pondered, “Whatever happened to the aircraft that dropped off the infiltrators?”

OOC: What did happen to it?

Supreme Commander Aricar grabbed the headset, “No Commander Dasch, don’t worry. We shall deal with this our own way. It seems that the infiltrators have already made their move.”

Aricar passed the headset back; Dasch’s hunch certainly made sense, Aricar had already figured that. He still didn’t bother telling General Parms; politics was always more important than stratergy.

"Lordship, new events in Farmina," said Myles Abrahms of the Ministry of Intelligence. Emperor Scorpius had just walked into the Command Centre at the Imperial Diadem Palace.

Presented before him were the latest images from Risban's many satellites showing fleet movements off the Farminan coast. Scorpius frowned. "Who do these vessels belong to?"

"There are a Messian Fleet and a Kilani Fleet, sir," said Abrahms. "And one of the Risban Imperial News Network's reporters who was covering the Socialist Uprising has just placed a call saying that there is some type of fight erupting at the Alvick Prison in Farmina."

Scorpius nodded. "Tell this reporter that until I say differently she is working as an agent of the Prometheus Agency and is to relate whatever she hears or sees to this room, and only this room," said the Emperor. "Keep an eye on the situation. I want satellites to watch. Grab any contacts you might have in Farmina--spies, emmigrants, businessmen, tourists, I don't care--and have them keep an eye on things and report all they discover to you."

"Aye, sir."

As the fleet moves towards the Kilani fleet, Admiral Peterson grabs the communicator and dials another place.

"This is Admiral Peterson to Command Plane Tango 3. We request input to the situation, over."

--------

Dasch hears the communication, and picks it up. "I read you, Admiral. State your situation."

After a short pause, the communicator comes back alive. "They have refused so far to withdrawl. They have done a flyover over our fleet as a show of force. They are not a threat, but we wish to recover their carrier's aircraft, over."

"Standby one," Dasch said. He thought for a moment while holding onto the phone. This situation could get tricky. He could greatly boost relations with Farmina by support them in this operation. However, by doing so, they could break relations with the world. Is a shaky alliance worth causing the damage and a war?

Then his decision clicked on him. The only way this situation with Farmina can be resolved is to boost relations with them. If they don't, they'll never solve Donald's murder or dealing with any other situation that may arise from them.

"Admiral, I..." Dasch said, trailing off for a second, "I want you to position the fleet into position between their fleet and the Kilani nation. Let their rescue airplanes land. By doing so, they won't be able to take the prisoners back."

"Sir, you do realise that we could cause an act of war by doing so."

"I'm fully aware, Admiral. I don't like this either, but you're going to trust me on this."

"Yes sir," the Admiral replied.

If you can trust me, Dasch thought, making a wince in the process.

He then loaded up the communicator to MES high command. "This is Force Commander Dasch. Patch me through to Ackvick."

A moment later, the familiar voice came though. "Ackvick here."

"You're not going to like this. The Kilanis are up to something. I'm right now trying to cut them off from escaping."

"I don't like this..." Ackvick said. "Alright, I'm deploying Task Force 1 to assist. Expect them to arrive within 24 hours."

Dasch nodded. "Thanks Ackvick. Please hope I'm doing the right thing."

Ackvick shook his head. "Nothing we do will be right," he said grimly.

OOC: Sorry. I assumed it would be like most modern prisons.

The plane claimed to be having navigational troubles and asked the Messians for assistant. I didn't get a response in the next post....I assumed it returned to the carrier.

I don't have the time to write up the kind of post I would like to make, so I'll make one tomorrow morning.

Andrei's pulse was pounding. He had lost tthree men, two wounded and one killed when those damn machine-guns had opened up. He hadn't been expecting those. He motioned one of his men forward and pointed towards the lbockhouse. The soldier nodded, aimed, and let fly a 30mm grenade from the under-slung grenade launcher. Then another.

In the mentime, the rest of his men were advancing slowly, using cover and the darkness to their best advantage. The 'chuff' of suppressed weapons wa eerywhere. The sharper cracks of the guard's rifles and the long roar of the machine guns added to the cacophy of noise.

His radio clicked, "This is Omega Team, we have reached the prison proper. I repeat, we have reached the prison proper. Beginning search for the prisoners."

Andrein odded to himself as drew a bead on a running guard. That meant that one of his four-man teams had managed to get into the cell-blocks. He squeezed the trigger.

One of hism en wa shouting somethine at the guards, demanding they lay down their weapons. Andrei hoped they would. That would make his job a whole lot easier...


The Kilani fleet commander noted the shift in the Messian fleet. "Looks like they're trying to block a potential escape route," he noted, "Get me August Group on the line. They can get here in 48 hours. If this turns into a shooting war, I want to be able to hold our own."

"Yes, commodore. Sending transmission now."

The commodore reviewed the oddsagainst him. He had four Sovremenny-class destroyers and three Udaloy-class destroyers on the outer screen. , as well as two flights of Lu-45 Hawks.

His inner screen consisted of a three Kirov-class battlecruisers and two Kresta II class cruisers, plus another four Lu-45s. Then he had the Red Tide, which had another eight Lu-45s, plus eight Lu-12s, six heliocopters, and eight GLI-76 Falcon VTOL aircraft. His battleship was an older ship, but had been recently modernized to carry SAMs and ship-to-ship missiles. The odds might not be good, but he'd make a fight of it...


The three heliocopters whirred over Farminia at tree top height, the marines looking out over the darkened country. They were five minutes out from the rendevous point. The gunship was above and behind the transports, watching for possible ground-to-air weapons.

Explosions shook the prison and the machine guns fell silent. “Fall back to within the prison,” ordered the prison commander into his communicator, standing in the prison's sole entrance and exit.

The prison was a revamped castle, the main entrance lead into the administration chamber, from where the prison broke off into a number of wings. From left to right each wing got gradually smaller, each marked with the type of prisoners: petty, corporate, sexual, major, death. The final wing had a hurried sign, ‘Arandior’ where the most hated prisoners were marked out from the rest of the prisoners by their Socialist red armbands.

Each section was secured with an electronic door, each cell with an old fashioned lock. The commander realized that the infiltrators would come for him; he had all the keys.

“All units to the Administration Center,” ordered the prison commander, “We make our last stand here.”

His estimates were that he only had twenty men left, with those already in the prison, and those trying to retreat under fire. And the survivors pulled back, he removed his pistol and took cover; soon would be the final battle.

---

General Parms scowled, “I don’t understand Lord Commander.”

“Its very simple,” explained Aricar, “I’m instructing you to pull all your units on route to the prison back towards the gas station and Arandior.”

“But why?” insist Parms, sure Aricar was going mad.

Aricar responded firmly, “We have good intelligence, backed by the Messians that the attack on the prison is just a diversion; for a much larger attack. Possibly sabotage of gas pumping; possibly even a full scale invasion of Arandior.”

Parms didn’t like it, but he didn’t have a choice, “Very well Lord Commander. Goodbye.”

“Goodnight General,” said Aricar, hanging up his phone.

He then dialed another number, “Hello, Aricar here.”

The voice on the other side was deep and covered in forbidding, “Is it done?”

Aricar responded slowly, “Yes Chancellor Rickhart, it is done as you required.”

Once the Messian fleet got in between the Kilani carrier group and their country, the Messians moved closer and closer to their fleet. Just by show of force, he felt he could keep them from firing. He kept his carrier outside of battleship range, but he moved the rest closer to the other fleet.

"Admiral, we have an encoded communique from Task Force 1. They are enroute and will arrive within 24 hours."

The Admiral grinned. This was the news he was hoping for. He will find out soon enough what will happen.

"Sir, we're in position. The rest of the fleet is still proceding to the designated co-ordinates."

"Roger." he said. "Launch a CAP around the carrier. If they shoot, don't hesitate."

The President came to the cabinet meeting and sat down. After she did, the Secretary of Homeland Security started speaking.

"Good afternoon, Madam President."

"What's the situation with the protesters?" she asked.

"It's not getting any worse, but nor is it getting any better. There have been clashes between Farminan immigrants in several neighborhoods today. The Cultists want us to condemn the government, while the Grey Catholics want us to support the government. If either side thinks that the other side has convinced us, it might turn into a riot. The Cultist leader leading the protest right now- his name is Rick Easton- he’s the only person stopping the Cultists from doing anything violent. He’s been promoting peaceful protests to solve the problem.”

“Does anyone else have anything to add?” asked the President.

“I propose that we issue a statement condemning the government’s response to the rebellion, while reminding that the Cultists and Socialists should have tried democratic means first. That way, both sides get something”, said the Secretary of State.

“II will do that at the next press conference. Now, if anyone doesn’t have anything else to add, let’s move on to fishing quotas.”

Gregoire hoped that this would settle the problem. Unfortunately, she was wrong.

---


While the cabinet was talking about foreign fishing fleets, a sniper looked out of the window of a nearby building. He saw the protesters, his target, the Cultist leader, and some reporters waiting to interview Easton. The conditions were not just right. He would wait until they were.

"Commodore, the MEssians have launched a CAP. They'll be coming pretty damn close to our own...And their own fleet is really damn close."

"I know, I know..Pull us away a bit. We will not fire first."

"Yes, sir. All units pulling away from the Messian fleet."


In the air, Major Yakushin glanced over at his Messian counterparts, a few hundred yards distant. He waved at them, although they probably couldn't see him. He made a transmission on an open channel, "Hello Messian comrades! This is the Kilani flight leader. How's the weather in Messia this time of year?"


In the prison complex, Andrei had sent four men off to try and get through the doors guarding the socialists. So far they reported that the door was electronically locked. They were going to try a breaching charge, but they weren't sure if it would work.

The firefight had wounded another four of his men, two of them seriously. He and his fifteen of his men were stacked up around the administration building's door. One of them was affixing a breaching charge to the door while the others stood watch. Two of his men were seeing to the wounded guards, along with the two lightly wounded.

"OK, breach, frag, flash, and clear. You know the drill. Anyone who has a weapon is a hostile."

There was a chorous of affirmitaves from them. He made one last appeal to the administrator, shoting thorugh the door, "Attention, comrades! We have no wish to kill or harm you. Simply throw down your weapons and give us the keys and no one need be further injured or killed."

The soldier working on the breaching charge stood back, hand on the detenator, waiting for the signal.

The commander realized he was outnumber and outgunned. This was the course of action he had to take. Orders came right from the top, casualties are to be absolutely minimal.

“We surrender,” declared the prison commander standing up, “You win you damned bastard.”

He threw down his pistol and placed his hands in the air. The other guards also stopped shooting, throwing their weapons aside.

“Take what you want and get out,” hissed the commander, “This place’ll be swarming with soldiers soon.”

"Sir, the Kilani fleet is starting to back away from us."

The Admiral wanted. This was exactly what he was hoping for. He now could 'push' them away from the Farminan coastline, but keeping them from escaping.

"Maintain course," the Admiral said.

--------
Captain Davies hears his radio come alive in his XG-32N Navalised Swarmer.

"Hello Messian comrades! This is the Kilani flight leader. How's the weather in Messia this time of year?"

He smiled. He liked it when people from opposing armies turn out to be friendly. But it also bothered him when he may have to kill those friendly people. That's the unfortunate part of war.

He keyed up his radio. "Hello there Kilani flight, this is Captain Davies of Alpha squadron. Weather at this time of year is pleasently warm, but a few cloudy days."

Andrei and his men quickly secured the remaining guards, piling their weapons in one corner and putting them in another.

"Please, remain seated with your hands on your heads and we will not harm any of you." he said.

He knelt in front of the administrator and releaved him of the keys, "Thank you. We'll be leaving you in just a few minutes."

Leaving four men to watch the prison guards, Andrei and the rest of his team quickly headed for the wing holding the socialist prisoners. With a quick swipe of the key card they were past the electronic doors. He begin unlocking the cells.

"Comrades," he called, "We are here to liberate you. Please, follow our instructions and we will be able to get out of here quickly."


A short distance away the heliocopters landed in a clearing, the marines spreading out to secure the perimeter. THe gunship orbited overhead, waiting.

Yakushin returned Davies transmission, "Ah! Good! This is Major Yakushin, of Aleph Flight. Good to hear."

OOC: Since they're immigrants, perhaps they're more toned down than their home-bound bretheren? Alternatively, they could see it as the wrong time to go to war against his country.

The prisoners marked out with Socialist red armbands smiled gratefully at their liberators, following briskly behind them, while the prison guards, sitting with their hands on the head cursed harshly.

Meanwhile in Ricco, Supreme Commander Aricar nodded slowly, “So they have the prisoners. Maintain the current orders. We just watch what these fools are up to. Never move too soon, never.”

The prisoners marked out with Socialist red armbands smiled gratefully at their liberators, following briskly behind them, while the prison guards, sitting with their hands on the head cursed harshly.

Meanwhile in Ricco, Supreme Commander Aricar nodded slowly, “So they have the prisoners. Maintain the current orders. We just watch what these fools are up to. Never move too soon, never.”


OOC: Out of curiousity, how do you know what we're doing?

IC:

The SID team retrieved their wounded and single dead comrade, hustling the prisoners to the waiting the heliocopters. As the prisoners and SID troops loded up the marines pulled back, loading onto their on chopper. Within moments the copters were airborne, heading for the coast again.

"Father, this is Mother. We have the kids. Returning home. Over."


Four LU-45s lifted off from the carrier deck, heading for the edge of Farminian airspace, followed by two GLI-75s.

Captain Davies noticed the aircraft taking off from the escort carrier. "Please state your intentions, over." he said to the aircraft taking off.

--------

"Sir, we have reports of aircraft taking off."

The Admiral looked up. He could see them take off. Although his carrier wasn't nearly as close to the Kilani fleet as the rest of his force was, he could see the silluette of the carrier quite clearly. He thought for a moment.

"Call up one of our camera-equipped planes, and have it take off and circle the Kilani fleet to monitor." He knew that they wouldn't actually shoot. They couldn't be stupid enough to, or at least he hoped as much.

Aricar continued to survey the movements of the helicopters and the two testosterone full fleets. “Get our fleet ready,” said Aricar, “I want our fleet ready to move if everything blows up.”

“As you wish,” said his adjutant, “And the helicopters?”

“Leave them be,” said Aricar, “We shalln’t start a fight, but by God’s Will, we shall finish it.”

"Captain Davies, this is Captain Lorenko. We are merely conducting a routine sweep and preparing to replace the fighters curently on CAP. Thank you, out."

The Kilani fleet maintained postion. The slightest lapse in judgement, one shot fired, could start a war.

Andrei turned form watching his men chat with the rescued prisoners and began watching the ground skim past underneath them. Sloowly, trees gave way to scrubland, and then dunes. Suddenly there was water flashing by underneath them. They were over the ocean. The pilot was talking on the radio to the carrier, "Father, this is Mother. Five minutes to go and we'll be over international waters. ETA to home: nine minutes."

Grand Admiral Graham Frost sipped his coffee slowly, “Can’t people keep military matters till the morning?”

“Apparently not,” replied Captain Tony Stevenson of the FNS Grey, sipping another cup of coffee, “Perhaps foreigners don’t realise what time of night it is.”

“Bah,” responded Frost, putting his cup on the desk, “Hopefully President Grey has the good sense to wake up those responsible for this affair with a nice barrage and blockade. If he doesn’t promise action, I’ll be voting Palmer on Saturday.”

Captain Stevenson took another sip, “I don’t know, that Palmer bastard talks tough, tougher than Grey, maybe even tougher than Rickhart; but talk is cheap, we need action. As soon as Palmer gets in he’ll probably let sodomites and rapists run around like they own the place, and he’ll go soft on the foreigners and the murderers too. You know what they say about; you’ve heard about his past.”

“Sheer speculation Captain,” responded Frost, “Back under Justinian we showed our enemies what happens when they meddle in our affairs. Random Kingdom was placed under occupation and the coast of Mondoth was aflame; our finest hour Captain, never doubt it. And if Grey can’t do this job properly, I think a lot of people will look for someone who can; even if they don’t find him.”

“There isn’t smoke without fire Lord Admiral,” warned Stevenson, “I warn you about Palmer, there something not right about him.”

He paused as a Petty Officer entered with a brief knock, “Lord Admiral, we’ve put together everything we can.”

“Good,” responded the Grand Admiral, “Jolly good. Captain Stevenson initiate the withdrawal from Ricco Port. Lets see what these foreigners want.”

“Aye Lord Admiral,” responded Captain Stevenson who proceeded barking orders at every person he could find.

The fleet was soon away.

The helicopters passed into international waters, heading for the carrier. Within a few minutes they began landing patterns as the Lu-45s circles over head.

The commodore turned to his comms officer, ""All ships: We're heading south, maximum speed."

"Aye, aye sir."

The fleet began to turn, their wakes curling as they began to steam away.

Supreme Commander Varius Aricar examined the map. The Kilani force was moving south, the Farminan fleet was moving south west, correcting to south south west to adjust. The Messian fleet was south of the Kilani fleet, but the Kilani were expected to adjust for it.

Supreme Commander Aricar knew Chancellor Rickhart’s instructions. After Supreme Commander Bashar’s untimely end; Aricar had no plan to disappoint Rickhart.

“Colonel Irvine,” began Aricar, “Patch me into the Kilani fleet. And send the Messians and Admiral Frost a request to actively halt the Kilani force.”

Colonel Irvine set up a communication channel to the Kilani fleet for Aricar, before preparing the other two communiqués.

Aricar began to speak with a deep, powerful voice trying to impersonate Rickhart’s, “Kilani fleet; I know you can hear me. We have reason to suspect that you have aboard your fleet dangerous criminals. We demand that your fleet halts and allows us to search for these criminals. If you fail to do so, I shall authorize drastic action. Over.”

The Admiral first saw some helicopters flying towards the carrier. Then, he heard the Farminan communique over the radio. "So that's what they're up to." he said to no one in particular.

He walked over to one of the desks in the control tower.

"Bring up Cam-Sat 18 directly over the Kilani carrier, maximum resolution. I want to see what are coming out of those helicopters."

"Yes, sir," the Ensign said. He loaded up Cam-Sat 18, and slowly moved it into orbit directly over their carrier. He looked out the window and still saw the helicopters orbiting in a landing pattern. Anytime now, he will find out exactly what they were up to.

"Sir, the Kilani fleet has stopped moving, sir."

The Admiral turned around. "Continue closing the gap," the Admiral said. He hoped that Task Force 1 would arrive soon. They were still 22 hours away.

OOC: If I read your post properly, the Kilani would thus be 46 hours away.
--------

The Messian camera-equiped aircraft circled over the carrier. The camera operator started to take pictures of the fleet, and the planes around them.

"Hey, take a look at this," the pilot said. The cameraman looked down. He could see helicopters moving in to land. "We better get that on film," the cameraman said, while aiming his camera-pod towards the helicopters.

--------

Captain Davies recieved the Kilani reply. But he could see helicopters returning to the carrier, not a proper CAP. Who in the right mind would use helicopters for a CAP mission?

"This is Captain Davies. I request your purpose of flying helicopters over the area, over."

He backed his flight away, in preparation for a possible fight. A fight that he knew he could easily win with the cards his fleet were dealt with.

Attention, Messian aircraft, you are violating our zone of security. Back off at once or we will force you down. Over.


Yakushin spoke again, "Captain Davies, as we informed your fleet earlier we have been doing rescue drills over the past few days. These heliocopters are merely an extenion of said drills. Thank you, comrade."


The commodore turned to his comms offficer. "Send the following..."

We copy Farminian fleet, but we have a schedule to keep. Do you realize how long it would take you to search out entire fleet for these "criminals" you claim we have?" We will comply with your instructions, but we will have to leave in a few hours time.


On board the helicopter, the SID team was helping the prisoners to strip off the red armbands and were handing them bits of clothing to wear, suchs as sailor's caps, coats, and other pieces of uniforms.

"Bring us as close to the island as possible!" he siad to the pilot, "There's a MEssian aricraft out there and we don't want them to see too much."

The pilot nodded and began bringing in the aircraft. With a 'think' the helicopter touched down. As the rotors begin to whirl to a stop, naval personell swarmed it, handing in blankets, and Kilani overcoats. Others began doing post-flight checks on the helicopter.

"Let's go!"

WIth a rush the group hurried to the island and went inside.

"We need to hide thes epeple, fast...We can put some of them in sickbay. Put the rest in uniform and scatter them around the ship in different locations..."


The second copter touched down as well, disgorging it's cargo of marines.

OOC: I’m confused. What are you doing with prisoners, taking them to a ship, taking them to an island or taking them to a ship called the Island? You talk about landing and going “inside” the island, then spreading throughout the ship.

IC: The prisoners demanded an explanation and insisted they could dress themselves.

Grand Admiral Frost’s fleet was making good time, “Kilani vessels, prepare to boarded. Boarding shall commence in fifteen minutes. Your men are required to lay down their arms for the time of the search and place themselves in the custody of our men. Over.”

OOC: It's the bridge/superstructure area of the carrier. Lookie here! (http://photobucket.com/albums/y77/havoc88/?action=view&current=aircraft-carrier-in-motion01.jpg)

IC:

That is a negative. We will allow you to board, but we will not allow you to simply run rampant through our military vessels without escort. Over.

Jabin Gratien Enej, a BBC reporter, was covering the protests. After being the first newscrew to find out about the story about the murder of MES's Force Commander Donald, his boss had sent him to Vancouver, Birtish Columbia, the capitial of Cascadia, to do a story on Farminan imigrants. When the rebellion in Farmina started, the BBC told him to cover the protest and be the first with the story. He knew that a promotion was waiting for him back in London. But first he had to interview the Cultist leader, Rick Easton,, who was the only person stopping the more zelous members of the Cultists start riots against moralists. Most Cultists agreed with Easton, but if he were gone...well he didn't want to think about that.

---

"...we must remember that the Farminan government's plan to take away many of the basic rights in Arandior is only part of the Moralists' plan to suppress all political oppostion. In times of war, it may be tempting to chip off a little freedom for sercuity. But if the process continues, soon there will be no rights left. Even only a little chipped off exposes more of the rock to weathering. And there are always ways to get around even the most powerful police forces." Easton paused.

The crowd roared.

Jabin suppressed a smile. Under Justinian, human rights were violated, yet Easton, a supporter of Justinian, was speaking about freedom! But he did have a point- too many rights were being suppressed in Arandior.

OOC: Fair enough.

IC:

“We cannot actively search while your men are active as military personnel,” warned Grand Admiral Frost, “If you hinder our investigation in any way, a great price will be demanded. Over.”

Frost then changed comms channels, “Messian fleet we are beginning a search of the Kilani vessels. You are welcome to provide assistance.”

---

Ten of helicopters flew over the Kilani ships, dropping down eighty men in infantry and marines onto the carrier; armed with weapons, but some also with video cameras.

The helicopters returned to the fleet and Ricco to get more troops as the search began. The Farminan troops seemed more interested in securing the carrier deck. But as each room was to be search; infantry were to be placed on guard in case either the Kilani or the prisoners tried anything inappropriate.

The brand new Messian dreadnought, the Punisher class MESV Punisher, was the replacement for the older Thunder class battleships that are still in service. The dreadnought lead the group of ships forward. At this point the Punisher was literally parked alongside the Kilani carrier. The other ships held back a couple hundred meters away from the Messian dreadnought. A couple of the sailors on board the Punisher waved at the Kilani's on board the carrier. Some looked very nervous, some made rude gestures, and some waved back.

The ships slowed to a stop alongside the ships. The barrels were in the neutral position to not show a hostile posture. The Captain on board looked at the carrier, in time to see the Farminan soldiers being deployed onto the carrier. He wondered if the photo plane or satallite caught anything.

As the troops drop to the deck, an assembled comapny of thirty Kilani marines is standing at attention.

"Marines! Aten-hut! Present...Arms!"

The marines offer a salute, then spread out over the carrier deck, watching the invaders. The sailors continue going about their duties, securing the recentyl arrived helicopters and keeping the ship warmed up. Several wave to the dreadnaugh as it pulls alongside. Others just shoot nervous glances at it.

Below decks, marines stand guard at the engine room and around the aircraft.

The commodore seeks out the ranking Farminian on board the carrier, "How long is this going to take? I have planes in the air that are going to have to land soon and your men are all over my carrier deck. And, can we help you locate what you're looking for?"


In sickbay, several of the prisoners are ordered into gowns and have their faces swathed in bandages. They are then put in beds and their prisoner uniforms buried in a laundry cart.

"You're burn victims now. If you so much as speak, they'll catch you and you're all ead men. Remember that!"

The other prisoners are put under a marine guard and led to the engine room.

“Until we find the serial killers and rapists that you stole,” warned Captain Barrister, who seemed to be of the highest rank, “Supreme Commander Aricar is convinced they are aboard this vessel and we shall tear it apart if we have to.”

As he spoke, four helicopters were bringing in more marines to help support the search of the carrier. In the rooms being searched, the Farminans were taking their precise time; checking under every file and coffee mug, and behind every broom. The Farminans were taking thoroughness to the extreme.

The commodore raised an eyebow, "Rapists and murderers on my ship? I think not! My own men will assist in the search! Should we find these men you are looking for, we will of course charge them with stowing away on a Kilani military vessel. They'll have to be brought before an official court in Kilani, of course."

Farminain searchers are stopped politely at the engine room entrances and told that Kilani marines will be carrying out the search inside.

Sergeant Williams was most unimpressed with being halted, “Sirs, you are listed as untrustworthy. We have the right and the might to search the engine room. I insist you stand aside.”

As the number of Farminans aboard the aircraft carrier hit two hundred, most simply guarding searched rooms, twenty infantry were deployed to searching the medical bay.

Bump

OOC: I know, just not much to post about at this second until Kilani posts...or someone else. :cool:

The marine sargeant in charge of the detail gurading the engine room speaks up, "With all due respect, you have no right to stop and board us. We're in international waters. We are allowing you to search."

The prisoners are given Kilani naval uniforms to put on.

The doctors in sickbay hover protectively over their patients, but otherwise don't bother the searchers.

OOC: Sorry, I got really buy over the weekend.

The Farminan troops began searching the sickbay, Lt Sadin observed, “You sure got yourself a lot of burns victims.”

“Not all of your patients have medical records,” he noted suspiciously, “Why?”

---

The aging Admiral Frost nodded as the comms link was set up, “Frost to Messian fleet, we urge you to search the second Kilani escort ship. Over.”

Captain Stevenson gave the Admiral an odd look, “Both we and the Messians know the prisoners are on the carrier.”

“Exactly,” said Frost, “The Messians aren’t completely stupid.”

The CMO looks at the lieutenant, "There was a heliocopter crash about a week ago. The fuel tank exploded and we had to pull the survivors out before they got roasted alive."

He waves a clip-board under his nose, "And of course I have records! What do you take us for? Barbarians?"

“Then you won’t mind me inspecting those,” said Lt Sadin, “After all you have nothing to hide.”

The Messian dreadnought started moving away from the Escort carrier, and moved alongside the Kilani battleship.

"This is Captain Harries of the Punisher class Dreadnought EDFV Punisher to Kilani Battleship, we request that we allow a searchteam onto your vessel."

The CMO snorts, "Of course I mind. Maybe you haven't heard of doctor-patient confidentiality? It's a concept that free nations like to follow."



The battleship responds.

This is the PNKS August Revolution. We must respectfully decline.

“There is something very wrong here,” said Lt Sadin, “First, several burns victims do not have basic information attached to their beds. Secondly, you have a great deal of burns victims from an incident that has been incredibly well covered up, for no apparent reason, then you openly admitted it happened to me. Thirdly, you cite patient-client confidentiality; does this mean you happen to be the doctor for every single one of the patients, from the mysterious helicopter accident? Fourthly, you have made no offer to provide even the most basic information about the mystery patients. Fifth, we followed the prisoners all the way from the prison to this very aircraft carrier; the same one with the mystery patients, from the mystery helicopter accident. Want to tell the truth; or should I reveal point number six.”

"I think you should get out of my sickbay before I call security and have you removed. You have found absolutely nothing. We have complied with your search. There is no phyiscal evidence that these so-called 'prisoners' were ever here. I am not the doctor for every one of these men, but the fact still remains that you can not look at their records because they do have doctors looking over them. They are not 'mystery patients'. I told you what you need to know. YOu are not a doctor or a medical professional. Would you like me to tell you their blood types? Their medical histories? What allergies they have? Now get out!"

He waved a hand towards the door.

"Take your jackbooted thugs and get out!"

An orderly hit the intercomm, "Security to the Medical Bay at once."



In the engine room a Naval Officer prepares to swear in the remaining prisoners as Kilani citizens.

Lt Sadin smiled, hearing the panic in the CMO's voice as he called security, “I think you will like to hear point number six. Just because someone has a red armband, and is in a corridor with ‘Arandior’ scribbled over it; doesn’t mean they’re a Socialist. When we told you, you had a band of murderers and rapists on board; we were telling the truth; you’ve been the victim of the cruelest con in history.”

Lt Sadin, removed from his belt a sealed folder, “You may be only a Chief Medical Officer; but even you can tell these documents are authentic.”

Sadin’s men were clearly disconcerted that they too had been tricked, but not concerned. The prisoners from Kalistan however, several began fidgeting badly, one even moving as though to escape. Sadin was quick to respond, “Ready your arms, those thugs aren’t going anywhere.”

Sadin turned back to the CMO, “Now that you see that you have gone on a wild goose chase; can we have our prisoners back?”

As Sardin finished speaking, a score of marines with drawn handguns and carbines clattered into the room, weapons currently pointed at the floor. THe liuetenant in charge looked at the uniformed CMO for a moment.

The CMO flipped through the folder, his heart sinking. They had been tricked. Tricked by the facist dogs. He looked up at the lieutenant and then pointed at the prisoners, "Place these men under arresst. They are imposters and are to be charged with impersonating Kilani Military personell. We will hold a brief tribunal on deck. The verdict will be guilty. The scentence is death."

He stode over to the intercomm and pushed down on a button,

"Attenion, all personell. This is Lietenant-Commander Putin. There are a group of thugs and murderers on board who have been claiming that they need political asylum. They are liers and murderers. Bring them to the carrrier deck. Dead or alive."

Lt Sadin and his men lowered their rifles, before using the cameras to get footage of the prisoners and audio of Lt Commander Putin. As they did their formal duties of observation, they stood in stunned silence as the Kilani position completely reversed; from protection to imminent execution.

—

Chancellor Dan Rickhart sat quietly in his office working when a message from Supreme Commander Aricar, appeared in his inbox.

“Video footage from the carrier,” he thought, “The final proof of Kilani deceit.”

He picked up his phone and dialed his number for President Lorenov’s office, “I am Daniel Rickhart, Farmina’s Chancellor for Foreign Affairs. This is urgent, please place me in contact with President Alexi Lorenov.”

The Presidenmt wass just finishing up a meeting when an aide hurried up to him.

"Comrade President, there is a Daniel Rickhart, who claims to be Farmina’s Chancellor for Foreign Affairs on the phone for you in your office."

Lorenov nodded. He had been expecting a call from them at some point. he hurried to his office and picked up the phone.

"Hello, this is President Lorenov. How can I help you?"

“I have been receiving unusual, if not disturbing reports about Farminan prisoners, Kilani helicopters and a whole lot of fleets,” said Rickhart, “Now would you be so kind as to tell me what is going on, and what will the government of Kilani be going next?”

The President frowns, "I'm not sure what you mean. I did, of course, issue a condemnation of your government's activities. But I have no idea what our military forces would be doing getting involved with yours."

"I assure you that the nation of Kilani has no wish for an armed conflict with yours. It may be that certain members of my governemnt acted without my knowledge or consent. I assure you that we will do our best to find out what has happened. What exactly has happened? We have been recieveing confused reports from mour naval vessels in that area."

“Some would call that pleading incompetence,” said Rickhart to the Kilani president, “Now unless my information is incorrect, and that you do not in fact rule your nation; I suggest you find out what your navy is doing with Farmina’s citizens.”

The president laughs, "Some would, eh? And I suppose your leader knows of everything that happens?" He pauses for a moment, "The situation report has just been handed to me....Apparently one of our admirals decided to take initiative and liberate some political prisoners from your nation. I apologize. We will, of course, pay for any damage caused. The admiral in question will be sacked, of course."

"And if you are done hurling vieled insults at me, I would kindly ask you to remove your men from our naval vessels. The situation is already being dealt with from our end. Now, I ask that you do the same. Good day."

“Prison guards doing nothing more than putting food on their family table are dead,” warned Rickhart, “No mere apology and shrug off will do for the widows and the fatherless children. True the President does not know everything that happens in this nation; but nor does he allow his fleets to attack a sovereign nation. Leaders need discipline and control; not excuses.”

"My country is not weak, Mr. Chancellor. Those responsible will be punished under the full force of the law. I am sorry for the loss of life in your nation, of course. If there is anything I can do to help the families of those killed in this despicable usurpation of Kilani authority, let me know."

“Whether you were ignorant or directive,” said Chancellor Rickhart, “The end point is that your nation launched an unlawful attack on our nation. There is nothing preventing you from doing so again; either through ignorance or directive. Thus, Farmina must either require sufficient reparation so we can be sure you will not allow this to happen again, or Farmina will take military action to ensure that your nation can never harm anyone or thing again.”

"Are you threatening me, Chancellor? I do not take kindly to threats. I have already stated that I am prepared to offer reperations. You, however, have not indicated how much would be suffecient to make amends."

“My apology President if I have caused offence; but I needed it to be clear that any reparation must also be seen as punishment,” said Rickhart, not sounding very apologetic, “How is the sum of a billion in US standard dollars sound? It should cover both Farmina and Messian costs in this issue and ensure that the widows live a good life; though nothing shall ever return what they have lost because of your blundering.”

Lorenov nods, "I understand. A billion dollars is acceptable. I will get my people on it right away. My personal condolences and deepest regrets to the families."

“Next time expect no leniency,” warned Rickhart, “Goodnight Lord President.”

"Good day, Mr. Chancellor."

+++

The Kilani marines rounded up the prsoners and put them on deck.

"Do you want them back or should we save you the trouble?"

Captain Barrister looked most unimpressed, "My dear fellow; if we didn't want the prisoners back would we have gone to all this effort."

The Captain then began signalling his men to load the prisoners onto the Farminan helicopters.

THe Kilani officer makes a small noise of discontent, but simply watches. "May we leave now?"

OOC: Good show. Nice bait and switch.

The Punisher's captain looks out of his binoculars onto the deck of the carrier. He could see the prisoners being loaded back on board. "I think it's safe to say that we can go home," he said. He ordered the ship out of the Kilani formation, and picked up his communicator.

"Admiral, I think we're done here."

Captain Barrister gave a small nod, “We are finished here. You may leave as soon as the last of our is off your ship.”

Then without another word, he joined his men aboard the awaiting Farminan helicopter.

"Let's get under way..We've been ordered to the Tslkan coast. Full speed ahead."

"Aye, sir. Full spead ahead it is."

The fleet's engines began to come to life and they swing towards the east, threading their way through the Farminian and Messianian fleets.

Epilogue

Rickhart sat quietly as Tobias Grey entered. The President asked, “So it is done?”

“I doubt Kilani will bother us again,” said Rickhart, “I think our next menace will be much closer to home.”

“They do not stop,” observed Tobias, “But I must ask one question; you’re hand was in this deeper than you let on. It was you who suggested the soft foot in Arandior.”

“People link softness and weakness. When you are weak, no when you appear weak, enemies reveal themselves reveling at the chance for victory,” asked Rickhart, “When our enemies were as visible as they could be; you brought down that boot; out of the mystique of weakness you brought down Democracy’s Jackboot, unintentionally completing the plan I could not.”

Tobias pondered thoughtfully; strength hidden in weakness, a brilliant trap; protected by a second trap used against Kilani, much of the same design; a liberation that was incredibly so easy it could nearly have raised suspicions. And what better place than weakness, equality and pleasant notions of freedom to hide the brutal truth that was Democracy’s Jackboot.