NationStates Jolt Archive

These are transmissions that were sent from a group of islands in the North Pacific known as the Commonwealth of New Debtford, a small relatively peaceful country. It is possible that they might have been picked up by a ham radio operator,a satellite, an intelligence communications system or a plane happening to travel over the area.

"From Williamford Air Force Base to anyone listening. This is Major Cates. Message follows: all remaining aircraft have departed. There has been no contact with them since departure. We do not know the status of other air bases or air stations. A disease outbreak has taken place. People are dying. Uknown cause. Riots have ensued, and the last contact with the central government was 24 hours preceeding this message. I do not know if our surviving equipment is capable of receiving any message. To any receiving this message: assistance is required. Advise air reconaissance in advance if assistance is possible. End of transmission."

"This is Hicksley Down calling anyone who can receive. Our town has been under siege by rioters for the last week. We have been unable to contact any local police or military units. We are in desperate need of medecines and other assistance. Is anyone out there..."

\\Com satellite 124.....
\\com chatter pickup
\\Location North Pacific
\\Data compression complete
\\Retransmitting message
........................................
\\Data decompression complete

Message Follows:-

"From Williamford Air Force Base to anyone listening.
This is Major Cates. Message follows:
all remaining aircraft have departed.
There has been no contact with them since departure.
We do not know the status of other air bases or air stations.
A disease outbreak has taken place. People are dying. Uknown cause.
Riots have ensued,
and the last contact with the central government was 24 hours preceeding this message.
I do not know if our surviving equipment is capable of receiving any message.
To any receiving this message: assistance is required.
Advise air reconaissance in advance if assistance is possible.
End of transmission."

Ivan was part of the Central intelligence Network (CIN) team that monitored all un-encrypted messages, the satellites were what he monitered most of all. Nothing much ever really happened, till now, he screen suddenly went alive. The computer system was designed to screen messages for any corporate interests and this message was full of it.

he picked up the phone quickly, contact his team leader, it was then brought up with the Corporate Security Council.

"this....disease...could we have a cure?" a corporate rep asked.

"we wont know till we get there, i recomend that we send in a Company of CSF along with a medical Detachment from CWNBC Division, under the gise of offering aid. We can then run tests, cultivate the disease and make a cure." a Intel officer said.

"interesting...Bio-Tech Industries would be happy to help." the Corporate Rep replyed.

"then its agreed, i will bring it up with the Chairmen and the council of the CEOs." One of hte generals said, "General Tigh, select a Company of your best men, with the 1st Corps already in Operation else where we're left with the...greens."

"yes sir"

======


To:- Major Cates, Williamford Air Force Base
From:-Chairmen Iris, Leader of the Corporate States

We have recived your message major, the Corporate states is willing to help, we already have a Company of CSF soldiers ready to move out with a detachment from our Bio Hazzard Department, they will have medical supplys, food stuffs, cloths and more.

At this time im sorry to say we cant offer more but hope you accept our offer of help.

The team has been sent and should arrive within the next few hours. if you dont want our help dont worry it will turn back.

"From Williamsford Air Force Base: Major Cates transmitting. To Chairman Iris, we do accept your offer of assistance. We are also transmitting in a message to follow this one our precise location according to our own maps. We will have a 24/7 monitoring of the radio. With many thanks, Major Cates out."

The map transmission indicates that Williamsford Air Force Base is one of the principal settlements on Lookout Island, one of the northernmost islands of the archipelago, according to any available information a pine forested island, mostly populated by a few fishing towns, a coast guard base and the air force base.

Hicksley Down, which is on the largest island, called Wintertide, keeps transmitting. This time a younger voice, much younger, saying,
"This is Hicksley Down, transmitting. Is anyone reading us, over? Hello? Hello? Oh for pity's sake, someone answer...I think the disease might be here. We are getting a weak radio signal from Lakeheath but I don't think they can reach anyone else and no one is answering..is anyone out there? This is Hicksley Down..."

Colderon sat at his desk with his hands folded letting chin rest in the cup made by them. Raven corp prided itself on having the best bio-weapons and illness ever spawned. And for a sudden new illness to spring out without warning angered Zion. No one in the world would be allowed to get a sample and create a cure. Such an action would prove most terrible for the scientist that wanted a sample. If a disease of natural power could kill so fast. Refined it would be the new bio-nuke.

Colderon sent the following message.

" Hello I send this message in good wil and offer our assistance in your time of need. It you wish us to help And you need to do is reply."

"This is Hicksley Down! Oh thank God, someone is there! Are you receiving me? We are a small town on Wintertide Island! We desperately need medecine, food and ammunition! Riot conditions outside are incredible. There are a lot of abandoned cars on the roads forming jams, we would need support by aerial assistance. Please, who is this? Over!"

" My name is Colderon Zion. I Am the CEO of Raven corps. We have heard you plea and are prepared to send any assistance you may need. Under one condition. You let us contain the outbreak our way. And you allow Corporate troops into the area. Anything short of this will bring great hardships upon your people, because they can't get medicine. But again we have transports ready to send aid. Now. But you must first agree to the terms....

'Hicksley Down - this is the RNS Savas replying to your call. We are able to give you aid without conditions if you respond to this call. Could you attach the location of your transmission?"

Phillip was flicking through the days files, before he found something interesting.
"Those islands might be worth claiming."
Phillip said looking up, "Incurable disease, killing the inhabitants. Im sure we could get some easy ground out of this. If we lose the inhabitants. Would make it easier."

President Roland nodded:
"Send in a team. Pretend to be trying to find a cure, but maybe help stirrup the problem. Drop a few of our own viruses in the mix. Once everyone is dead, we could send a few settlers over. And who will care?"


We are sending assistance in the form of our emergency health squad, who will help find a cure for this unknown disease. Expect the Frozopian airforce to be approaching your coastlines any time soon.

'Hicksley Down - this is the RNS Savas replying to your call. We are able to give you aid without conditions if you respond to this call. Could you attach the location of your transmission?"

"RNS Savas! This is Hicksley Down! We are a town just two kilometers off Highway 8, and about 42 kilometers from the coastal town of Brightwater. We have to advise you that lawlessness, rioters and people induced to psychosis seem to be running amock. Others are dying, the disease is highly infectious and is transmitted by...please wait for details...coughing of bloody mucous into the air. Please hurry. Supplies of medecine and necessary fresh foods are down to nothing, ammunition stocks are at a grave minimum...this is Hicksley Down, over."

" My name is Colderon Zion. I Am the CEO of Raven corps. We have heard you plea and are prepared to send any assistance you may need. Under one condition. You let us contain the outbreak our way. And you allow Corporate troops into the area. Anything short of this will bring great hardships upon your people, because they can't get medicine. But again we have transports ready to send aid. Now. But you must first agree to the terms....

"...understood. Be advised, we are a small town 42 klicks from the coast, and about 2 klicks from highway 8 extending from there. We have quarantined the town but we believe infected persons lie beyond it, and lawlessness and rioting are rife. I have been handed authorization by the Mayor of Hicksley Down to urge you to proceed, in the absence of any provincial or national authority to do so..."

We are sending assistance in the form of our emergency health squad, who will help find a cure for this unknown disease. Expect the Frozopian airforce to be approaching your coastlines any time soon.

This message was received also at Williamsford Air Force Base, and duly noted.

The northern island holding the Air Force Base was more remote, more primitive in many ways, since most of the population lived on the coast making livelihoods as fishermen and the like. Inland it was mostly shaggy pine forest and steep hills, but there was a plateau on which the air base was. It was partly for a refuelling station but also for weather monitoring and communications intelligence, and this was one of the main reasons along with its remoteness for its surival of the plague,which had so swiftly stripped New Debtford of law and order. Those monitoring the radios had had to listen helplessly as things rapidly collapsed, their last orders being to hold at any cost.



New Debtford Factbook Entry:

Land and Description: New Debtford is an archipelago in the North Pacific which is typified by pine forests, hills, inland glacial lakes and some northern deciduous forest.
Capital: Childingfold (pop: 850,000)
Other major towns: Brightwater (275,000) Tanglewood (152,000) Rexing (48,000)
Principle Industries: Tourism (largely for the resorts at Brightwater and in Childingfold which in particular have splendid casinos) mining (uranium, coal, nickel) petroleum, fishing, lumber
Principle Exports: Information Technology, Automotives, Electronics, Beef, Furniture
Military: 160,000 in uniform, 2 million reserves
Government: Parliamentary Democracy
Head of State: President Helen Waters
Head of Government: Prime Minister Scott Graham

3 Globemaster IIIs were flying quit low above the coast of Lookout Island, heading to the air base.

"this Corporate Security Airforce Pilot Lt Ruins, requesting clearance for landing" the cold filtered voice of ruins said over the radio.

The planes started to decend apon the airbase, still waiting for clearance.

OOC: crap post i know sos nackered.

"RNS Savas! This is Hicksley Down! We are a town just two kilometers off Highway 8, and about 42 kilometers from the coastal town of Brightwater. We have to advise you that lawlessness, rioters and people induced to psychosis seem to be running amock. Others are dying, the disease is highly infectious and is transmitted by...please wait for details...coughing of bloody mucous into the air. Please hurry. Supplies of medecine and necessary fresh foods are down to nothing, ammunition stocks are at a grave minimum...this is Hicksley Down, over."


This is the RNS Savas. We have no map of showing where the Highway 8 is nor the exact location of your island. We have dispatched two Ospreys to scout where we think you are located. Please be observant for any aircraft with a yellow circle enclosed in a brown circle, and then swallowed up by a blue oval.

*sounds of an Osprey flying off

Hicksley Down, Hicksley Down, this is Major Rannar Gholt RNAF, come in...

It was barely twenty four hours after the Modnothian sattelite network had been repaired when the emergency transmissions were intercepted by a nearby com-int operation conducting a routine surveilance.

As soon as the transmission was recieved it was piped up the line until the regional director got wind of it.

Message from Mondoth
To: new Debtford

"We have recieved your call for aid, an advance emergency response team is inbound by air to Williamford Air base equipped with riot control gear and advance medical supplies. Once the rioting has been controlled we will attempt to send in a complete Medical Control team.

With luck and a tailwind, the advance response team will arrive in three hours.
This is Modnoth regional control, please broadcast further updates ont his frequency. Out."

Unfortunately, the radio message was recieved in the Far Realms. A ship loaded with soldiers was dispatched from New Arkham. They sent signals indicating they would be sending aid. And the soldiers were loaded with food supplies - laced with psychotropic poisons to drive the eaters insane.

The Globemasters could see clearly a set of runways of appropriate length beneath them. There seemed to be wreckage on one of them. A control tower as well as a communications tower could be seen, along with a number of low lying barracks and other buildings. Forested hills were gloomy and green around the base. Some human figures and vehicles were moving when the clearance was given for landing.

Down below, four deuce and a halfs and two landrovers with GPMGs mounted moved out to flank the landing area.


Hicksley Down, Hicksley Down, this is Major Rannar Gholt RNAF, come in...

"This is Hicksley Down receiving you, Major Gholt! Thank Heaven! We are going to transmit to you our precise lat and long right now. We are also preparing a landing zone for you."

As the Osprey flew, any observers in it could see vehicle pileups on the roads. They could see neglected looking fields, eerily abandoned looking towns, and palls of smoke here and there. Those few people who seemed to be out seemed small scattered running groups.

Soon in the position indicated they could see a small town, which seemed to be surrounded by vehicle wreckage carefully placed and various defenses. Within it was an athletic field near an institutional looking building where some people were indicating 'safe landing area' by semaphore.

Message from Mondoth
To: new Debtford

"We have recieved your call for aid, an advance emergency response team is inbound by air to Williamford Air base equipped with riot control gear and advance medical supplies. Once the rioting has been controlled we will attempt to send in a complete Medical Control team.

With luck and a tailwind, the advance response team will arrive in three hours.
This is Modnoth regional control, please broadcast further updates ont his frequency. Out."

"Modnoth Regional Control, this is Williamsford Air Force Base. We do have other assistance coming, but we would more than welcome any further help. You are cleared to approach. Many thanks. Williamsford AFB out..."

OOC: not sure where the last post is signalling to, so I will assume that it is received, at any rate...

Major Rannar Gholt RNAF stepped out of the plane. The craft bore no food supplies - only graphs and maps. There was the rub - essentially - they had come with empty hands. There was some fish they had gathered from the seas for scientific exploration....

"Do you need fish?" he said.

Captain Renald Dorod poked him in the ribs.

"I mean" said the Major, "Who is in charge?"

MESSAGE RECIEVED
H2:M19:S10.15
Sattalite #15
Scanning Message
Location of Transmission: Commonwealth of New Debtford
Encryption: 0

...
"From Williamford Air Force Base to anyone listening. This is Major Cates. Message follows: all remaining aircraft have departed. There has been no contact with them since departure. We do not know the status of other air bases or air stations. A disease outbreak has taken place. People are dying. Uknown cause. Riots have ensued, and the last contact with the central government was 24 hours preceeding this message. I do not know if our surviving equipment is capable of receiving any message. To any receiving this message: assistance is required. Advise air reconaissance in advance if assistance is possible. End of transmission
...


Sara Savaronez looked over the message before sending her response.'
"Hello, New Debtford, are you still with us. This is the Marxist State, what is gonig on? Is there a cure, confirm you status"

The people who are there look like they've been camping for a while. There is a grimey grubbiness to them, even though they've clearly put on their best clothes in some cases, as with that of the dewlapped, red nosed man in the three piece but rather shiney suit who steps forward. "I'm Adam Fox, the Mayor, Major." he says, extending a large hand. "Thank God you've come! This is Chief Donald Hartz, our police commander--" indicating a grim faced man wearing black leather patrol gear, a shotgun slung over his shoulder. "And...fish, you say? Well, we wouldn't mind some...but what can you offer us?"

Beyond all this the new arrivals can see a number of civilians, some of them weeping, hands clasped in prayer, others murmuring in wonder and curiousity, parents holding the shoulders of children protectively, a few police officers urging them "not to crowd the visitors, please." The institutional building nearby says "Hicksley Down High School"

TO: Williamford AFB
New Debtford

FROM: Asst. Director Fred Jeunet
Ximean Ministry of Sciences and Technology
Bio-Sciences Division

We have received your transmission regarding an outbreak of an unknown disease in your region. As Ximea is a world leader in biotechnology, we believe we have the capability to help create a countermeasure. Since your government seems to have collapsed, we are asking you directly for permission to send a research team into your territory. All data we acquire will be made available to you in daily reports. This team will be armed for defense against rioters. We will also be delivering food and medical supplies for 3,000 people by air drop.

Awaiting acknowledgement.

Secret IC:
Bio-Sciences Division Internal Communication
FROM: Director Korth
TO: Agent Natick
Bio-SWAT

A small island nation called the Commonwealth of New Debtford is experiencing an unusual and extremely deadly plague. Their government has failed, and our only contact with the nation comes from Williamsford AFB on Lookout Island and a village called Hicksley Down on Wintertide Island. The disease is apparently transmitted by airborne blood and mucosa. The nation is experiencing severe riots.

Prepare a team for a temporary research outpost on one or both islands. Preferred group composition is approximately 18 researchers and 6 Bio-SWAT agents, according to your discretion. Based on our understanding of the disease, we recommend Level IV biohazard gear or higher.

Your priorities are as follows:

1. Retrieve a sample of the pathogen.
2. Obtain all possible data on the disease and its epidemiology.
3. Develop a countermeasure.
4. Aid the local population as needed.

According to our intelligence, around half a dozen foreign governments have also responded to the outbreak. We suspect some of them seek the pathogen for bio-weapons research, and they may use force to obtain and secure a monopoly on the pathogen. Arm your team accordingly.

Sara Savaronez looked over the message before sending her response.'
"Hello, New Debtford, are you still with us. This is the Marxist State, what is gonig on? Is there a cure, confirm you status"

"This is Williamsford Air Force Base. Currently we have aid incoming from the CorpSac Security Force, and we thank you for your message! We do not know if there is a cure. On Saker Island there is supposed to be a research facility that had had key scientists flown to it to study a cure, but we haven't gotten any sort of message back from them. Their communication capacity may be damaged. Supposedly the island is isolated enough to have no likelihood of a serious outbreak. Unfortunately we are lacking sufficient fuel to fly there and back, though we are attempting to scavenge enough for such a flight. Over."

#18
Ximea
Quite Deadly


Join Date: May 2004
Location: Behind you.
Posts: 491
TO: Williamford AFB
New Debtford

FROM: Asst. Director Fred Jeunet
Ximean Ministry of Sciences and Technology
Bio-Sciences Division

We have received your transmission regarding an outbreak of an unknown disease in your region. As Ximea is a world leader in biotechnology, we believe we have the capability to help create a countermeasure. Since your government seems to have collapsed, we are asking you directly for permission to send a research team into your territory. All data we acquire will be made available to you in daily reports. This team will be armed for defense against rioters. We will also be delivering food and medical supplies for 3,000 people by air drop.

Awaiting acknowledgement.

A young female voice, possibly early twenties, replies, "Assistant Director, this is Lieutenant Cathleen Forbes, serving as assistant A-4 at Williamsford Air Force Base! We're...overcome by the volume of response...we can actually hear cargo planes coming in...I'm authorized by our Base Commander to tell you that you may enter, but I must advise you: we feel that you must be warned that there IS no law and order, that while there may be other fortified areas unable to communicate that all citizens must be regarded with caution, as either those who have abandoned all morality or else have become infected with the plague..."

On receipt of a response from Williamsford AFB, two C6 Mastodon aircraft launched from the Bio-Sciences Division's Welker Flats Facility. One contained hundreds of reinforced drop crates equipped with parachutes--bottled water, simple foodstuffs, first aid kits, and antibiotics for three thousand people. The second aircraft held 18 scientists, 6 elite agents, 2 V486 transport vans, and equipment for what would become a well-stocked medical research facility.

Only the second plane would actually land. All personnel aboard, including the six crew, were wearing Level IV biohazard protection equipment, ruggedized for field and military use.

The pilot spoke over the intercom. "We're approaching Williamsford Air Force Base. Beginning descent."

A single C-204, escorted by four SX-24 fighters was dispatched to Williamford.

The Fighters did a quick sweep of the airforce base and surrounding area. Quickly following their check in, the C-204 opened its wide rear door, letting nearly a dozen cargo pallettes loaded with equipment. The people came next, a platoon of Special Operations soldiers followed by about twenty emergency responce medical personell. After a long few seconds of falling the parachutes opened.

As the soldiers hit the ground the rapidly opened several of the dropped cargo containers. Revealing Hydrogen fuel stacks, tanks of Hydrogen, and several boxes labelled "Mondoth Inflatables".

Radio message to Williamford AFB

"This is Rapid Medical Responce team two oh one four. William ford AFB please respond, we have paradropped into an area about a quarter mile away and are awaiting confirmation of your status. Over."

The first C6 Mastodon dropped half of its supplies over Williamsford, then continued on toward Hicksley Down. The second aircraft, the one carrying the science team, set down at the Air Force Base just long enough to offload its passengers and cargo. The rear loading hatch closed as the last pallet was unloaded, and the aircraft taxied to another runway for its return flight. It would land on a small, uninhabited island controlled by the Ximean Air Force, where it would be rigorously decontaminated long before it reentered Ximean airspace.

Agent Natick surveyed the area. It seemed the chaos festering throughout the rest of the country hadn't spread here yet. He suspected it was only a matter of time. "The science team will stay here with the equipment until I find the commanding officer. Lawrence, Sutin, and Crowley, stay here and stand guard. Preston, Child, come with me." They headed toward the closest administrative-looking building.

On entering, Natick addressed an MP. "I'm with the science team from Ximea," he said. His bulky, black, military-issue biohazard suit startled the young man. "Relax, we're here to help. Where's your commanding officer?"

Radio message to Williamford AFB

"This is Rapid Medical Responce team two oh one four. William ford AFB please respond, we have paradropped into an area about a quarter mile away and are awaiting confirmation of your status. Over."

"Rapid Medical Response Team Two Oh One Four! This is Williamsford AFB acknowledging! Be advised, areas outside known enclaves can be extremely dangerous and are listed as HOT by medical advisories! Please use extreme caution! Give us your precise location and we will send an escort out to you! Over!"

At the same time, inside the base, Lieutenant Forbes contacted the duty officer. "Captain, we have a priority one: friendlies in the woods!"
"Roger, understood."
Captain Gregson hurried to the ready room that was in the bunker near the gate. He was the commander of the Air Police for the base. He snapped, "Alright, I want first squad, second platoon ready in one minute lined up, and get a couple of rovers ready!"
The ready room had had since announcements of drops were being made a platoon of Air Police in full combat gear ready to go, and they scrambled as ordered.

The first C6 Mastadon dropped half of its supplies over Williamsford, then continued on toward Hicksley Down. The second aircraft, the one carrying the science team, set down at the Air Force Base just long enough to offload its passengers and cargo. The rear loading hatch closed as the last pallet was unloaded, and the aircraft taxied to another runway for its return flight. It would land on a small, uninhabited island controlled by the Ximean Air Force, where it would be rigorously decontaminated long before it reentered Ximean airspace.

Agent Natick surveyed the area. It seemed the chaos festering throughout the rest of the country hadn't spread here yet. He suspected it was only a matter of time. "The science team will stay here with the equipment until I find the commanding officer. Lawrence, Sutin, and Crowley, stay here and stand guard. Preston, Child, come with me." They headed toward the closest administrative-looking building.

On entering, Natick addressed an MP. "I'm with the science team from Ximea," he said. His bulky, black, military-issue biohazard suit startled the young man. "Relax, we're here to help. Where's your commanding officer?"

"Actually, we didn't expect you so fast..." the young man said. "As you can see another drop is taking place from Corpsac...I'm not so much scared as relieved, thank God! But this area is decontaminated, regularly. You'll see. The base Adjutant is greeting those others." As he was speaking a small group of officers and Air Police arrived, one of them an older man with a greying moustache, who paused and glanced at the AP. "This is one of the Ximeans, Sir." he said.
"Thank you for coming! I'm Colonel Grant, and I'm very pleased to see you folks!"

Once the planes had landed the massive doors bays open, one of the transports the glowing red eyes of the CSF, the troops walked out in, all 145 of the troops marched out. The all stood at the end of the ramp, braking into 4 groups of 36, each in group stood in a 4 by 9 (4 rows, 9 troops per row) all doing it in pefrect timeing. The extra Soldier stood at the front, waiting for someone to come speak to him. Each of the troops evn tho it didnt look like it watched, looking at all the people and other units around them.

At the other Transport, a entire group of people walled out, about 100 of them, most started to move over to the other transport, nothing came out of that one.

The people were all wearing NBC suits, they all were helping unloading and cheaking the massive crates that came off the other transport.

Major Cates was a bit surprised by the rigid formation and the almost automata like arrival of the CorpSac personnel, but he didn't let it show on his face. He got out of the lead landrover that had moved down to the tarmac and said, "Who is in charge here? I am Major Cates,and I'm the Adjutant of this Base."

"I'm Agent Natick of the Ximean Bio-Sciences Division." Natick extended a hand. "Colonel, I need every speck of information you've got on this disease. The more we know in advance, the more effectively we can deal with the epidemic. If you've charted the spread of the epidemic, I'd like to see those results as well. Ideally, I want to set up a field hospital and lab near a major population center."

The people who are there look like they've been camping for a while. There is a grimey grubbiness to them, even though they've clearly put on their best clothes in some cases, as with that of the dewlapped, red nosed man in the three piece but rather shiney suit who steps forward. "I'm Adam Fox, the Mayor, Major." he says, extending a large hand. "Thank God you've come! This is Chief Donald Hartz, our police commander--" indicating a grim faced man wearing black leather patrol gear, a shotgun slung over his shoulder. "And...fish, you say? Well, we wouldn't mind some...but what can you offer us?"

Beyond all this the new arrivals can see a number of civilians, some of them weeping, hands clasped in prayer, others murmuring in wonder and curiousity, parents holding the shoulders of children protectively, a few police officers urging them "not to crowd the visitors, please." The institutional building nearby says "Hicksley Down High School"

Major Rannar Gholt looked around. The place seemed devastated. He wasn't too sure on what to do. Thus - he decided.

"Look - I can send one of the Osprey's back for more aid that we have on the ship. You're welcome to have the fish we have from scientific inquiry."

He pulled out his revolver.

"I'm not too sure if this will help but you can have it" he said, handing it to the Mayor.

Radio Message to Williamford AFB

"Negative, there's no need to endanger your people, we are fully equiped to defend and transport ourselves. Please await our arrival."

The team quickly set up their modes of transportation, Trucks assembled from lightweight composite tubing, simple electric motors and some of the Hydrogen stacks for power. the truck were equipped with seeting four six and room for two or three cargo pallettes each. each was also equipped with a IRCS (Integrated Riot Control and Suppression) system. a series of speakers hooked to a small computer that could transmit sound at frequencies low enough to cause severe nausea in even the most determined attackers, but angled and focused so as not to cause the same discomfort to the men riding in the trucks.

"I'm Agent Natick of the Ximean Bio-Sciences Division." Natick extended a hand. "Colonel, I need every speck of information you've got on this disease. The more we know in advance, the more effectively we can deal with the epidemic. If you've charted the spread of the epidemic, I'd like to see those results as well. Ideally, I want to set up a field hospital and lab near a major population center."

As he shook the Agent's hand, Colonel Grant nodded, frowning. "You'd best talk to our MO..." he indicated a short dark haired woman in uniform with the insignia of a medical doctor. "Agent Natick, this is Major Megan Crosse, who has the information you need...as for setting up a field hospital we are in contact with one of the fishing towns near the coast and they seem to be doing alright. Would that be suitable? It has a population of around 15,000. The base population here is around 2,500."
Major Crosse was listening to the conversation quietly and said something to an NCO wearing medic's insignia, and turned to rejoin the conversation as the young medic hurried down the road towards a white building that had the words "Williamsford Medical and Dental Clinic" on the walls in bold black letters with the medical symbol of the snakes twisting around the staff on it.
Meanwhile a young man who had a radio backpack was listening in and glanced up as they all did to hear the roar of engines and to see a small convoy of landrovers rumbling towards the fortified gate. From the towers they could see machinegun and sniper positions watching the road that went down through open field areas towards the forest a thousand meters away while the rovers sped down it.


Radio Message to Williamford AFB

"Negative, there's no need to endanger your people, we are fully equiped to defend and transport ourselves. Please await our arrival."

The team quickly set up their modes of transportation, Trucks assembled from lightweight composite tubing, simple electric motors and some of the Hydrogen stacks for power. the truck were equipped with seeting four six and room for two or three cargo pallettes each. each was also equipped with a IRCS (Integrated Riot Control and Suppression) system. a series of speakers hooked to a small computer that could transmit sound at frequencies low enough to cause severe nausea in even the most determined attackers, but angled and focused so as not to cause the same discomfort to the men riding in the trucks.

As the team were moving to prepare their vehicles, anyone being observant could see a number of people moving through the woods nearby. They seemed to be unarmed civilians, moving with an almost wary manner through the trees, muttering among themselves.


Major Rannar Gholt looked around. The place seemed devastated. He wasn't too sure on what to do. Thus - he decided.

"Look - I can send one of the Osprey's back for more aid that we have on the ship. You're welcome to have the fish we have from scientific inquiry."

He pulled out his revolver.

"I'm not too sure if this will help but you can have it" he said, handing it to the Mayor.

"Thank you Major--well, you may need it yourself." the Mayor seemed to be struggling with his emotions. "You were on a scientific mission, clearly, and yet you dropped everything to come here. I know it is traditional, that life means more than mission on the sea and yet...Major, we are very grateful. We will never forget this."
The Chief of Police, frowning thoughtfully, said, "Major, pardon the interruption but if you could drop off even a crate or two of ammunition--nine millimeter, 12 gauge, 5.56N, whatever you got, that would be a huge help. But I'm wondering--what kind of ship are you operating from?"

"Seem to be doing alright--you mean, they haven't been exposed to the contagion? Colonel, you misunderstand me," Natick said. "I would be working with infected individuals. Bringing them to a village which has, so far, escaped the epidemic would be tantamount to mass murder. I want to set up the field hospital near a major locus of infection. Don't worry--my team is perfectly capable of carrying out its objectives on its own, so there's no need for you to risk any of your own personnel. I may need to avail myself of a flatbed or two, however."

Natick turned to Major Crosse and again offered a hand. "As I was telling the Colonel, the more I know about this disease in advance, the better. I need to see everything you've got on it--every patient chart, every autopsy report, every epidemiology projection. That's all in addition to any work on the pathogen itself, of course--Gram tests, protein workups, sequencing, anything you've done." He thought for a moment. "Right now, I don't even know what this bug is. My guess is a virus. Is it?"

While the trucks were being assembled. Several of the soldiers noticed the moving figures. They quickly notified the rest of the team by radio, but seeing that they posed no immediate threat, let them be for now, keeping their weapons close at hand just in case.

"Thank you Major--well, you may need it yourself." the Mayor seemed to be struggling with his emotions. "You were on a scientific mission, clearly, and yet you dropped everything to come here. I know it is traditional, that life means more than mission on the sea and yet...Major, we are very grateful. We will never forget this."
The Chief of Police, frowning thoughtfully, said, "Major, pardon the interruption but if you could drop off even a crate or two of ammunition--nine millimeter, 12 gauge, 5.56N, whatever you got, that would be a huge help. But I'm wondering--what kind of ship are you operating from?"

Major Ragar Gholt pursed his lips.

"We're operating on a modified CV Hornet, recently bought and we were testing it's uses on long range patrols. We don't exactly have that type of specific ammunition but we're talented in the arts of Akays."

Major Ragar Gholt turned to his second, a solitary man bearing a rifle on his shoulder, looking around the dingy place, just watching.

Major Ragar said something in Agon to his second, clearly an airman or a pilot. His second nodded. He seemed to fit in the setting. The words "Gavag" was imprinted on his right prectorial. The airman took his rifle off his shoulder. He presented it to the police captain.

"It's a design that we borrowed" he said, cocking it, "here you go" -

OCC: It's this: http://www.volny.cz/ak-47/ak-74/aks-74.jpg with a bolt action and "sleeker".

"Seem to be doing alright--you mean, they haven't been exposed to the contagion? Colonel, you misunderstand me," Natick said. "I would be working with infected individuals. Bringing them to a village which has, so far, escaped the epidemic would be tantamount to mass murder. I want to set up the field hospital near a major locus of infection. Don't worry--my team is perfectly capable of carrying out its objectives on its own, so there's no need for you to risk any of your own personnel. I may need to avail myself of a flatbed or two, however."

Natick turned to Major Crosse and again offered a hand. "As I was telling the Colonel, the more I know about this disease in advance, the better. I need to see everything you've got on it--every patient chart, every autopsy report, every epidemiology projection. That's all in addition to any work on the pathogen itself, of course--Gram tests, protein workups, sequencing, anything you've done." He thought for a moment. "Right now, I don't even know what this bug is. My guess is a virus. Is it?"

Major Crosse hesitated and said, with a sigh, "A virus is a possibility--but there is no evidence of one thus far. And...er...well there are the villages and towns on the southern side of this island. We could show you a map of the contagion's path on this island to be sure, that I can provide..." Leading Natick inside the medical building she showed him a red pattern like a crescent that split in two halfway along the southern part of the island, then split in three. "Here, where the black crosses are are where we had managed to set up out posts that maintain a Black Zone--basically a definite hot zone--blockade. But the outposts have no contact beyond...so the nearest hot zone according to the map would be Gilden, here at this road juncture..." she indicates the place on the map. "Population--well, last census' population--states it to be around 27,000 people, it's largely a wood mill town...no contact since the quaratine."


While the trucks were being assembled. Several of the soldiers noticed the moving figures. They quickly notified the rest of the team by radio, but seeing that they posed no immediate threat, let them be for now, keeping their weapons close at hand just in case.

With a loud roar suddenly several of the figures began to sprint, tree limbs whipping at them, through the woods, howling and snarling, their eyes glinting, their ragged clothing flapping, arms pumping as they rushed swiftly towards the team. There were clearly the shadows of others in the woods, a general growling like an angry soccer mob...


Major Ragar Gholt pursed his lips.

"We're operating on a modified CV Hornet, recently bought and we were testing it's uses on long range patrols. We don't exactly have that type of specific ammunition but we're talented in the arts of Akays."

Major Ragar Gholt turned to his second, a solitary man bearing a rifle on his shoulder, looking around the dingy place, just watching.

Major Ragar said something in Agon to his second, clearly an airman or a pilot. His second nodded. He seemed to fit in the setting. The words "Gavag" was imprinted on his right prectorial. The airman took his rifle off his shoulder. He presented it to the police captain.

"It's a design that we borrowed" he said, cocking it, "here you go" -

"Thank you." said the Chief, looking a little confused. He said, "Well, I appreciate it...but you know we HAVE firearms, a number of them...I don't think you understand our predicament. Law and order hasn't just broken down locally...I think the Mayor is trying to say: can you maybe get your country to send us some help?"

"And what was that that you said...the way of...what was it?" asked the Mayor curiously.

"This is Brigader General Mickhail Retropski of the Death Spire 350th Special Forces regiment, Requestin permission to land, ETA 2 hours over" the Request stated simply.

the force of 200 Special forces Soldiers, all geneticly modified, were ready, if this Desease couldnt be cured, it would be contained.

Natick was taken aback. "You don't know for certain whether it's a virus? Is any work being done on this disease at all?" This would make things considerably more difficult. "Gilden will suit our purposes. We plan to commandeer an existing structure for use as a field hospital. If the outbreak is as bad as you say, we should have a wide range of abandoned buildings to choose from. We will have a radio channel open at all times, should you need to contact us. As I said, we'll also be providing you with whatever we learn. Now, we will need one or two flatbed trucks to carry our supplies into the affected area. We will see to it that they are thoroughly sterilized before they're brought back here."

"This is Brigader General Mickhail Retropski of the Death Spire 350th Special Forces regiment, Requestin permission to land, ETA 2 hours over" the Request stated simply.

the force of 200 Special forces Soldiers, all geneticly modified, were ready, if this Desease couldnt be cured, it would be contained.
(ooc: need to know who you are requesting permission from)

Major Forbes blushed and said, "Agent Natick, we aren't entire fools. But you have to understand...it happened very quickly, within less than 72 hours, and by that time chaos was sweeping through the country. I'm simply telling you that I haven't the facilities to deal with it here, and that we have no access to records. We sent a mission south to the main island to the capital but I'm afraid that we lost contact with it." she felt bitterly embarassed at this operative from a large, powerful wealthy nation incredulous at what could only be seen as incompetence. She struggled to pull herself together and said, "We will make sure you have the trucks. You might want a couple of liasons to accompany you." She tried to focus on the moment but ghosts were surrounding her...in her own mind she could perceive all those she wished she could have helped or at least comforted and could not.

"Of course, I'm sorry," Natick said. "I'd forgotten about the disruption to your national communications. And I appreciate your offer of liaisons, but my team is highly trained and well-equipped for operations like this. I wouldn't want to endanger any of your personnel unnecessarily...however," he said, changing the topic, "I'd like to know more about this mission to the capitol. If my team can make contact, I think we would both benefit."

As the figures began rushing, the soldiers raised their weapons, ordering them to halt, when they ignored the shouted commands the soldiers opened fire with riot guns, 12 gauge automatic shotguns loaded with mixed rounds, the first five in a magazine were simeple chemical rounds that break on contact and release pepperspray, the next five round are non lethal bean-bags, and the last five are contact tranquilizers powerful enough to knock out a 400lb. man in seconds. This load allows riot troops to quickly adjust to rising threat levels. In case of emergencies, the troops were equipped with extra magazines for any threat level including deadly sabot rounds capable of taking down an armored assailant.

"Of course, I'm sorry," Natick said. "I'd forgotten about the disruption to your national communications. And I appreciate your offer of liaisons, but my team is highly trained and well-equipped for operations like this. I wouldn't want to endanger any of your personnel unnecessarily...however," he said, changing the topic, "I'd like to know more about this mission to the capitol. If my team can make contact, I think we would both benefit."

"Well, the main thing you need to know before I say anything else is that the disease seems to have two different phases. Carriers--who are the ones coughing and sneezing the bloody mucous--and what we are calling recipients, which seem to in response become psychotic, almost as though they had rabies or some such thing. It seems to affect your personality type...for instance a fairly gentle person might kill themselves by clawing and biting at themselves or rushing into some danger like a train. A more moderate person might be outraged by another person walking by and try to bite them but might do no more than that if they didn't resist too much. Violent individuals are the most dangerous--especially because they seem to be able to infect others on occasion. But irregardless they are highly dangerous. And it is hard to tell them from regular lawless persons."

Forbes drew a deep breath.

"Bearing this in mind, the mission to the capital was in a V-22 Osprey with a squad of Rangers, an Special Emergency Medical Response Force made up of medical and biological specialists as well as an intelligence operative from our Directorate of Intelligence, Reconaissance and Topography. The leading agent was I believe Malcom Donner...their intention was to set down in an area where they could secure a landing zone and begin a grid by grid sweep of the immediate area. If they succeeded more was supposed to be sent. We were meant to do this in conjunction with Fort Dillon but I'm afraid at last contact it had been overrun by a mob..."


As the figures began rushing, the soldiers raised their weapons, ordering them to halt, when they ignored the shouted commands the soldiers opened fire with riot guns, 12 gauge automatic shotguns loaded with mixed rounds, the first five in a magazine were simeple chemical rounds that break on contact and release pepperspray, the next five round are non lethal bean-bags, and the last five are contact tranquilizers powerful enough to knock out a 400lb. man in seconds. This load allows riot troops to quickly adjust to rising threat levels. In case of emergencies, the troops were equipped with extra magazines for any threat level including deadly sabot rounds capable of taking down an armored assailant.

The people rushing forward were generally knocked down by the bean bags and tranqs, while they seemed to stumble blindly, roaring and howling almost more like apes than men and women. Among the most visible were a woman wearing little more than a nightgown, her ravaged hair wild around her face, moaning, spittle falling as she clawed at her eyes so badly that rivulets of blood ran through her fingers. Another, a man in a filthy and blood stained football jersey was in a similar state. Other figures reeled, or else struggled with the concussion of being knocked down.

Thank you." said the Chief, looking a little confused. He said, "Well, I appreciate it...but you know we HAVE firearms, a number of them...I don't think you understand our predicament. Law and order hasn't just broken down locally...I think the Mayor is trying to say: can you maybe get your country to send us some help?"

"And what was that that you said...the way of...what was it?" asked the Mayor curiously.

The Major rolled his eyes.

"I was going to show you how it fires but-"

He handed the gun back to his second.

He looked at the Mayor. "I was lost for a second - the way of what? I was referring to the Akays - it's the standard of arms of our country - and-"

There was a cackle of his radio.

The Major held up his finger. "Excuse me for a minute."

He turned away - for a moment - and then handed the radio/cell phone to the Mayor.

"Captain Swews wants to talk to you"

The soldiers had at least halted the threat for now, but seeing the state of the people they had shot several of the soldiers cursed.
"Jesus, Let's get the frack out of here and fast."

"Yea man, this shise is screwed up."

"Must be the disease, must be screwin with their heads or somethig, I've heard of some diseases that do that, drive a man insane before it kills 'em."

"Better stay away, don't want to get any of that stuff."

One of the doctors from the Medical team walked up.

"Yea,it looks bad, I'll have to get some samples, see if I can identify the pathogen." Then he sent an order over the radio- "I want everbody in full NBC gear, the disease looks like a nasty one and I don't want to deal with any more infections."

The troops and medical team responded quickly, digging through the crates and donning the full 'nuclear/biological/chemical' environment suits designed to protect the wearers from any threat of disease.

"Major Forbes, how would you like me to find your team?" Natick said. "It would set back our timetable for the field hospital by a couple of hours, but the data we might gain would more than make up for it. If you could spare another aircraft and crew, my squad could try to recover your expedition. We are trained for air rescues in hostile territory as well...due to the nature of some of our research," Natick said. "My science team could wait at the base, perhaps assisting your medical department. But I'm still a little unclear on the pathology of the disease. Do the infected become recipients, then progress to carriers, or vice versa? Or are these two different transmission vectors which don't manifest in every subject?"