NationStates Jolt Archive

Rubble was scattered across the ground as burning ballots were caught in the wind. That day all of Farmina quaked. Destiny twisted and bent. The fate of three billion Farminans had been radically altered in one day. Politicians and the workingmen looked on in the same horrified disbelief; as the impossible became reality. History had collapsed in on itself. Respected commentators resigned in shame, their words little more than fable. Fact became fable; and fable became fact. The burning ballots scorched everything they touched and soon the soul of Farmina was ablaze.


“May I present to you, for his official address, James Palmer, President-Elect of the Democratic Republic of Farmina!”

Lord Jamie Palmer stepped through the crimson curtain to a huge roaring cheer. The entire Liberal Block cheered. Some Socialists cheered. Half the world was cheering on Palmer breaking the religious right’s stranglehold on power. As he stepped up to the podium, listening to his followers cheer for; he could hear that half the world’s cheer.

He flicked his eyes across the room as silence fell, before announcing at full volume, “I bring you victory.”

There was another mighty roar in the great ballroom of the Padish Hotel. The lights shimmered through the crystals of the chandeliers. The ornate statues and fine paintings seemed to cheer along with the Liberals. The Liberal’s now had their first true victory, and it was thanks to the terrorist, the Shadow and the Moralists failure to stop him.

“I would also like to note, that our victory coincides with the birth of the three billionth Farminan some time this afternoon,” said Jamie Palmer, “Today our population broke threw two great barriers; a population one and a political one. That so massive a population shall experience such a swing in leadership; tonight is truly a night to remember.”

Jamie Palmer was a moderately tall man; but more notably he was a powerfully muscular one. He wore expensive, designer suits; that night a dark blue one, with a deep red shirt and no tie. His eyes were a deep blue, and his fine skin, white. But it was his bright red hair that was distinctive, cut to yell ‘look at me.’

“Tomorrow the world shall awake in a new era,” proclaimed Palmer, “An era where the religious right must earn power and not assume it. An era where Liberals are seen as major participants and not mere commentators. An era where there are three billion Farminans for the first time. An era where every last person knows they stand on the edge of true freedom. Freedom from discrimination, freedom from poverty and freedom from terrorism.”

“Tomorrow, I shall contacted Mister Tobias Grey,” said Palmer, specifically removing the title President, “So that our parties can co-operate to form a workable Parliamentary majority. Though typical of the Moralists, I think it will take him some time to concede defeat.”

“Today was Farmina’s first Presidential election. Today the people stood up and said that they would not be led by the religious right, but by a Liberal,” declared Palmer, “Not Moralists, Labour or Conservatives. They were truly defeated. With such a victory, is there no greater evidence of Farmina’s true nature?”

“No!” roared the crowd of Liberals.

“Tobias Grey worked for democracy, for a people’s voice,” said Palmer, his voice powerful, supported by moderate hand waving, “And now he knows he is not that voice. We are the people’s voice!”

Again the ecstatic Liberals roared; Palmer had been a prophet and a savior to their failing party. He had led them out of the political wilderness; away from annihilation and onto victory.

“To all of Farmina, dare I say the entire world, change is coming. I am the oncoming storm,” said Jamie Palmer, “And I say, let the world prepare.”

For a second that received a hesitant silence. Then he received another boisterous, triumphant, unquestioning cheer for their messiah.

President Palmer,

The Empire of Xeraph sends it's congratulations on your election as President. In addition, we applaud the birth of your three-billionth citizen.

We share your belief that authority, like respect, is to be earned, not just expected. That being said, we wish to formally establish diplomatic ties with Farminia. We look forward to hearing from you.

respectfully,

Vlad, Prince of the Empire, Regent of The Grey Phoenix, in the Name of the Emperor.

To Prince Vlad
Empire of Xeraph

Thanks be to the Empire of Xeraph for its kind words. Your congratulations are warmly welcome.

Once I, Lord James Palmer, take over the Presidency, opening of relations between Xeraph and Farmina will be a priority.


Lord James Palmer
President-elect of Farmina

{TAG: Awesome writing as always, Farmina.}

The beast copulated with a young man. It sodomized him. The beasts claws dug into his flesh, tearing into him. His teeth biting deep into the young man’s flesh. Blood stained the already red beast. The sounds of pleasure, pain and horror; became twisted into one great scream. Organs shredded in a bloody fury. The beast kept going, tearing, eating, raping. And the young man, he endured it in orgasmic horror, then suddenly as he saw his own barely beating heart, he made one final scream, “No.”

“No,” screamed Dan Rickhart, jumping into an upright position desk chair.

He looked around, his fore teemed in cold sweat. No red monsters. No devoured young men. No more blood than usual.

“Just a bad dream,” thought the elderly Chancellor for Foreign Affairs. He looked over to the clock on his desk; it was four in the morning. The only light was provided from Rickhart’s desk lamp that had been illuminating the back of his head for the past several hours.

Rubbing his eyes, the Chancellor for Foreign Affairs tried to remember what he had been doing before he fell asleep. In from of him was a half a note and one of his ‘destiny maps’. “Two different tasks,” remembered Rickhart, recalling that he had been trying to discover what the note said, before he had begun the new destiny map.

An unused syringe sat on Rickhart’s desk. He picked it up and inserted into the small vial at the end of his desk. He turned the syringe and vial up, pulling back the plunger; clear liquid filled up the syringe. “The drug expands consciousness. The drug conquers pain,” whispered the former chemist to himself.
He slipped the syringe out of the vial, pressing firmly to remove any air bubbles. Then raising the syringe to his neck, he pushed it into his flesh gently.

With a calm hand he pressed down on the end and pushed the fluid into his body. As he injected, his body became rigid. The face of Commander Donald burnt his mind, looking back from the dark places of the old man’s mind. “You’re dead,” whispered Rickhart, “I killed you.”
The face of Donald disappeared to Rickhart’s relief; but then the face of the fearsome, fat fool, Supreme Commander Bashar stared back at him angrily. “Go away” instructed Rickhart, “You’re dead. I shot you dead.”
And yet another face, Captain Jamison Sardo stared back, but also spoke, “You killed me.”
“No I didn’t,” said Rickhart, “Sanderson killed you.”
“You sent me to Sanderson. You killed me,” retorted Sardo, before also vanishing into the blackness.

With a jolt, Rickhart sat up returning to the real world, before gently removing the syringe from his neck. His spare hand moved down his neck, to the bandage on his neck, where someone had tried to bite a chunk out of him. He had been beaten to a pulp and stabbed in the space of a week. A couple of months before he had fallen from a great height and been blown up in a single day. Few people could claim to have such an interesting life.

“It wasn’t just a dream” thought Rickhart, “The red beast is out there.”

He looked down at the destiny map. When destiny had twisted and bent, when the unforeseen outcome happened, the moment that saw all his old maps become useless. Palmer had won the election after bombs exploded at several polling booths. All but one booth was expected to vote strongly Moralist. It had been a close race; but the alliance of terror and destruction handed Palmer a victory.

So many things had gone wrong for the Moralists. Rickhart had not foreseen any of them. It was as though the cruel hand of fate chose specifically events that Rickhart could not see. But Rickhart knew that one hand was pulling all the strings he was blind to, but it was not that of fate. A human hand was behind this.

Rickhart moved around the cards, trying to examine new lines of possibility. The edges of the map were empty, the unseen futures. Rickhart drew a line between two events on the map, carefully noting destiny’s causality. On the far left was the Palmer presidency. From that event followed the end of Farmina as everyone knew it.

Rickhart could not allow destiny to follow that path, he had to force the future onto another path, a safer one, or if desperation grew great, into the unseen areas. Rickhart could see a viable path, he had not mapped it far, but he had already seen a cost. “All of President Grey’s dream will be shattered on that road,” thought Rickhart. He saw another path, a path that was nearly as unclear as the unforeseen areas. He moved the destiny cards around the path, running calculations through his head. The path forked; one side to complete victory, the other to total, devastating defeat. Rickhart realized this was the path that would occur if he did not interfere. President Tobias Grey would see hope down this path and charge down it with an ideological fury. But Rickhart could see what Grey could not; evil had touched the path, forking it, creating the most devastating of all paths, a path that could not be allow.

Rickhart returned his attention to the middle path, placing the destiny cards around it to aid his calculation. This path did not have the nightmare of the path on the left, nor the great risk of the path on the right. Rickhart would not gamble with the nation’s future on the path on the right; instead he would betray Tobias Grey to save Farmina.

Rickhart saw no alternative to betraying a friend. The truth left him with no alternative. It trapped him. He alone knew the truth. It allowed him to see a different future; one carved by Palmer’s hand.

The truth about Farmina was barely believable. James Palmer had sided with the terrorist the Shadow, no doubt consenting to the Election Day attack. He was personally involved in the terrorist attacks. Palmer was tied both to the outlaw Conservative remnants and treasonous religious fanatics known as the “Cult of Justinian.” The Liberal leader had associated with multiple plots to kill the President. Palmer conspired with large corporations, to create a new era of corporate serfdom, with rich overlords enjoying the cream of the workingman. And because of that truth, the Palmer presidency had to fail.

However Dan Rickhart also plotted against Jamie Palmer for another reason. Dan Rickhart knew the greatest secret of them all; Jamie Palmer was the red-haired beast from his nightmares.

Official Statement
Force Commander James Ackvick

We hereby protest the election results, as they have been upset by multiple terrorist bombings of polling stations. We request of the new government to willing stand down, and commit a byelection in all the affected areas, with international support of security and vote counting. Your nation will not gain our support if you don't do this part of the democratic process that should be automatic in a true democracy like yours.

--------

Ackvick's plane touches down on the airstrip where the other Messian aircraft were stationed for the past few months. He came to Farmina to talk to Tobias and Rickhart about what has been going on in Farmina. He started to dispise this country, but he refused to give up a fight worth fighting for. IF it was worth fighting for. He got out of his seat, and walked out of the airplane.

"Force Commander on deck!" a corporal yelled out, followed by salutes by everyone around him.

"At ease soldiers. I'm here to be taken to the palace for a meeting. Do you have a car ready?"

"Yes we do, sir. Right this way."

Only nine o’clock in the morning and already one could feel Farmina changing. In the streets the Liberals marched triumphant, and with good reason. Jamie Palmer had also been careful to ensure the marchers were given extra man power; but no need to mention that.

The hygienic smell of hospitals comforted Palmer. The cleanliness hid the death; like political spin hid bad news in good words. Spin was Palmer’s job; to make defeats into victories, victories into triumphs and ensure disasters never happened even if they did. How many people die in the hospital, yet how few dead one sees? Politics and medicine were alike in the most unusual ways.

The photographers continued to flash. Palmer laughed softly at one of the journalist comments, “It appears Mr Grey is still in hiding after the election defeat. As the next President it seems reasonable to take his place.”

A young lady by the name Mag, passed her newborn boy to Lord Palmer, who cradled it gently in his arms. Next to Mag, stood her husband Dave; and in front of him, Arnold Longwool, a member of the Liberal Left, now acting incredibly loyal to Palmer. A few months ago Longwool had warned that Palmer would be the end of the Liberals, but now he seemed to see no higher office than at Palmer’s every call. “Victory changes all things,” thought Palmer, “The Liberal Left have realized principles mean nothing if one has no power. And power is the centre of all things.”

Photographers flashed more pictures of the President-elect cradling the newborn. Palmer spoke firmly, “This is the only baby at North Verica Hospital to be born at the correct time to be a candidate for the three billionth child.”

More photos snapped and the baby became restless. “Let me therefore say,” said Palmer, “Let us presume this is the three billionth living citizen of Farmina. I congratulate Mag and Dave on giving us our three billionth living citizen. I assure them that as I cradle their child in their arms; I am also contemplating how my rule can benefit this infant the best; but also the rest of the 3 billion more generally.”

A few more photos of James Palmer cradling the infant were taken, before he handed it back to Mag. One of the journalists wasted no time in seizing a question, “Do you believe the terrorist attack unfairly advantaged you in the election campaign?”

“There was great concern the Moralists couldn’t protect the average voter from terrorism. Our polling showed a winning swing to the Liberals because of it,” said Palmer, avoiding referring to himself, “The terrorist attack during the election only highlighted why the Moralists were doomed to lose.”

The sniveling fool Arnold Longwool hung up his phone, though Palmer hadn’t realized the man had actually answered it till that point, then walked over to the President-elect and whispered in his ear. When Longwool stopped, Palmer look turn to speak, “I’m afraid I must leave to consult my lawyers. The Moralists refuse to admit defeat, and Tobias Grey has launched a test case to get the courts to overturn my Presidency. The advice Mr Longwool gives me is that Tobias Grey’s challenge has no logical base in law and shall surely fail.”

“Lord Palmer, Lord Palmer,” echoed the journalists, but Palmer gave a hand to indicate silence as he turned and walked in the opposite direction; his small band of advisors and guards quickly copying his step.

Official Announcement of the President of the United States of Allanea

Dear friends!

Allaneans and Farminans! As I speak now, the Farminian election results are announced – and President Palmer had won. Today, Farminians have made a choice. They had chosen not merely to have a democratic structure – not merely the old see-saw about two wolves and a sheep voting or dinner. They have chosen to have a structure of liberty. They have chosen wisely.

As an Allanean, and a true son of my homeland, I know that there is no political value – no political slogan – no political idea – more important and more sacred then liberty. The idea that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness is more important, more beneficial, more sacred then anything theocracy, communism, fascism, nazism and social democracy have ever given to the multiverse.

An oppressive government can give you a room in an appartment, a train that runs on time, and food on your table – but only in a free country can you eat the food you like – whether or not it's healthy, choose the view from your windows and the destination of your journey.

An oppressive government can protect you from cold and hunger, sheathe your religious feelings from offense – but woe be to you if you actually want to choose your food, your blanket, and your religion. Ask a Scientologist, a Satanist, a Christian – or, in some countries, a person who just happens to like the wrong sort of food – what happens then.

The Farminians had decided to choose the animating contest of freedom over the soothing tranquility of servitude. I would like to offer them my most sincere congratulations. As of now, I have ordered the Department of State to send an ambassador to Farmina, to establish our first embassy there. Further, I request the Allanean business community to make loans easier for Farminian government and private individuals, so as to help improve the economy of that nations.

Congratulations, Farminians.

Congratulations, Allaneans.

Good night to you all.

And may God bless Allanea.

Dear President of the United States of Allanea

I think I speak for all Farminans, when I say your kind and thought provoking words do humble us so. The careful thought of your tongue describes the situation with impeccable description. I shall certainly welcome any embassador from your nation.

Lord James Palmer
President-elect
Democratic Republic of Farmina

President Tobias Grey looked out from the White Palace balcony, surveying early morning Verica through his binoculars. If the court challenge to Palmer’s election failed, he would no longer be able to call the grand structure his home.

Chancellor Phillip Sullivan stepped out onto the balcony, “Main Street is blocked, Lord President.”

“So I hear Phil,” said Grey, then putting his binoculars in clear sight, “And so I see. Liberal Block goons marching down as though they are taking over.”

“They are taking over” corrected Sullivan.

Tobias Grey passed Sullivan the binoculars, “Take a good look at those Liberals. Tell me what you see.”

Sullivan gave a brief look, “I see a whole lot of fools, who wear boots bigger than their feet.”

“Be that as it may,” said Tobias Grey, not wanting to underestimate the Liberals, “I recognized one of the faces. Then another. They’re strikebreakers from back when Justinian tried to jump on the unions with both feet.”

“Strikebreakers,” pondered Sullivan, “Strikebreakers…Reaction Corp! They were established by the Corporate Coalition, mercenaries to give big business extra muscle. They completely disappeared after the Strikebreakers incident; I assumed it went broke.”

“Well apparently Reaction Corp is still running, and it voted Liberal,” said Tobias, “Now they’re swelling the ranks of the Liberal goons; no doubt with the full consent of the Corporate Coalition owners.”

“The politically neutral Corporate Coalition,” added Sullivan.

“Aye,” affirmed Grey, “The Corporate Coalition of which Palmer Enterprises is one a member. Still I wonder if there an alliance, or that they simply have a mutual enemy?”

Sullivan saw the truth in Grey’s question, “I suppose it both; but to the greater extent the second.”

“It would be interesting to look over Reaction Corporation’s accounting,” noted Grey, “See how they have made their money in these silent years.”

“No doubt dodgy contracts with the Corporate Coalition,” said Sullivan, an accountant by profession, “Secretly paying Reaction Corporation money for work not done, then telling shareholders that it is normal expenses.”

“Funneled through secondary enterprises,” added Grey, “And no doubt Palmer with a mighty hand in it all, seeing the need for a private army in the future. Secretly trying to control the Corporate Coalition, Reaction Corp, not to mention the all important money flows. And now this secret army buffs up even casual protests. Though how much control does he actually have, I ponder?”

Then a more striking question hit Grey, “How much control do we Moralists still have?”

“The Liberals won’t get it all their own way,” commented Sullivan, ducking the question, “Most people wouldn’t support the Libs.”

Tobias Grey lifted his binoculars again, now turning to the anti-Palmer demonstrators. Family groups declaring the President the enemy of traditional family. Moralist black-shirts yelling “No Terrorist for President” and “Democracy shouldn’t go boom”. Unionists and socialists declaring “Palmer, the enemy of the workingman.” But these were unorganized, divided. The Liberals were unified, powerful and well prepared. They had been waiting for this day; even expecting it.

“The election was very close,” warned Tobias, “With or without the Election Day attack. And victory is like a fire; it burns faith, even into non-believers. Even a faulty victory has made Palmer more powerful.”

“You are pessimistic today,” noted Sullivan.

“Not at all,” said Tobias Grey, “I feel the righteousness of our cause will preserve us in the end.”

OOC: Joint Farmina-MES post discussing events secondary to the plot.
IC:

“Bring him in,” instructed Chancellor Daniel Rickhart, and the black-shirt nodded and proceeded out the conference room to bid entry to their foriegn guest

Force Commander Ackvick of the Militia Enforced State walked into the room

“Good morning gentlemen. I’m glad you decided to see me in such short notice,” said Ackvick.

“You will address the President directly,” instructed Rickhart.

“Dan, there is no need for formality,” corrected Tobias, “The Mes are our friends now; aren't they Commander Ackvick.”

“Well I'm glad you think of us as such,” Ackvick said, “We have sacrificed much to gain your trust.”

He then took a seat with the two men.

“Now why do you wish to see a President of Farmina in the dying days of his Presidency,” asked Tobias, “It is not what I call a rational course of action.”

Ackvick looked at the President’s eyes. “Because I know from what we’ve learned so far that there is something big going on here. And I have a feeling that Palmer is scheming.”

“Perhaps you will be happy to know that the Palmer Presidency is about to come crashing down,” said Tobias, “I have called an emergency court hearing on the legitimacy of Palmer's election win. After several polling stations exploded, it threw doubt on the legitimacy of the whole thing.”

Rickhart said nothing, thinking, “Past the trial is where the path forks.”

“Well. I want to know first of all, how dangerous is this Palmer,” said Ackvick.

“We don’t want to find out,” said Rickhart.

“But Reaction Corp is already taking over the streets,” added Grey.

Rickhart looked surprised at the mention of Reaction Corporation; but then clearly saw the connection.

“President, or would you be rather be called Tobias now?” asked the Force Commander.

“Whatever you please?” said Grey.

“Tobias,” Ackvick said, “I know that you both...do you have anything eavesdropping in here?”

“No,” said Grey honestly.

“Good,” said Ackvick, “You both fear a Palmer presidency. Why?”

“Fear puts it too strong,” said Grey, “But Lord Palmer, is the head of Palmer Enterprises, a member of the Corporate Coalition. He plans to let big business, namely Palmer Enterprises and the Corporate Coalition get everything they want. Monopolies, unions crushed, minimum wages abolished. The rich will be rolling in it.”

What Grey didn’t say, clarified the problem. Rickhart remained silent, he did fear Palmer, truth did that.

“There must be something more. Especially since the Shadow seemed to have targeted Moralist-strong voting booths,” commented Ackvick.

“We have our suspicions,” said Rickhart, “Just as we did when Lord Palmer managed to distract the guards just before the Shadow launched his strike at the ball.”

“Then what were you guys waiting for? Why didn't you two arrest him?” asked Ackvick

“There is a difference between suspicion and evidence,” said the President, adding, “And arresting the opposition leader is never a good idea.”

Ackvick nodded.

“I know that you both have been going behind the scenes doing things, probably to deal with Palmer. I want the truth, as I’m willing to tell the truth about us,” said Ackvick.

“And I mean both of you,” said Ackvick glaring at Rickhart.

“We have launched legal action, about the validity of Palmer's election win,” said Grey, “Demanding the court issue a revote."

Rickhart added honestly, “I have been reviewing future paths of action. I have also been preparing a response to Reaction Corp.”

It was clear from the look on Grey’s face that he was not willing to consider that the Palmer presidency could become a reality.

Ackvick turned back into a general look, “The reason I'm here, is that I want to be on the same page as you two, and the same for all of us here. I want to be on the same page, because otherwise we can't help you.”

Ackvick then looked at Rickhart, then back in general, “I know more than you think I do.”

“Tobias,” said Rickhart, “You may want to be able deny hearing this.”

Grey nodded understandingly, stood up and left silently to attend to his regular duties.

“I am planning to create a militia; a vigilante organisation to destablise any Palmer presidency,” said Rickhart, “That should create more than enough trouble.”

“Alright, then why did you kill my man?” asked Ackvick.

“I did not kill Commander Donald," retorted Rickhart, “My alibi is rock solid.”

“You may call Dasch a tattle tailer, but he wanted me to know because he knew that he could trust me to not blurt it out to anyone except for those who matter. And you said if he remembered correctly, that you professed to killing Donald, with Sardo,” said Ackvick.

“There are fates worse than death,” said Rickhart, evading the question, “All of Farmina is facing the fate worse than death.”

“And how is that so?” Ackvick said.

“I believe that Lord Palmer has done unspeakable things,” cautioned Rickhart.

“Such as what?” Ackvick said.

“I said they were unspeakable,” said Rickhart, “Perhaps Commander Dasch recalls the tale of two young Farminans.”

“The rape victims? Do you know who killed them?” said Ackvick.

“You know my implication well enough,” said Rickhart pointedly.

“Palmer?”

“Yes,” said Rickhart.

“Then maybe I should do something about him,” Ackvick said quietly.

“I request only that you keep a watchful eye on Tobias,” said Rickhart, “Some of us will not return from the coming fight; but he still has a destiny to complete.”

“He may not take sanctuary willingly,” Rickhart added added.

“I wasn’t referring to Tobias,” Ackvick said bluntly, “However, now that you mentioned that, Tobias should be taken to some place safe.”

“I’m sure that I can rely on you to do this at the most appropriate time,” said Rickhart, “The warning light shall be very bright.”

“At the correct time, I hope you take Tobias Grey to safety with unrestricted force,” said Rickhart, “I could also use a few of your men to bolster the vigilante ranks. Of course, we cannot allow anyone to think that the vigilantes are anything but disgruntled blackshirts. Certainly not foreign soldiers.”

“I can do this at any time. When did you want me to take Tobias?” asked Ackvick.

“When Jamie Palmer oversteps the bounds of his authority,” said Rickhart, “I won’t be able to identify when that time is.”

“Does this also mean that you want me to commit to a war against your nation?” asked Ackvick.

“I want you to behave discreetly,” said Rickhart, “There is no act of war if you aren’t caught. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help,” said Rickhart, “You may however use the black-shirt vigilantes to the verge of your influence.”

Rickhart stood up assuming all matters were discussed, “I have important business to attend to. One question; should we be concerned about the business of a dead Messian admiral. It is a bizzare coincidence.”

“I’m not sure, quite frankly,” Ackvick said quietly, “Our best investigators are on the case.”

“Well, I can’t stay chatting in my final days,” said Rickhart, “So much to do, so little time to do it.”

“I demand you surrender yourself to Messian authorities for murdering our man. I will hold off until the Farminan situation has settled, but once this is all over, I wish for you to surrender. That is the price of our aid,” said Ackvick.

“The question is posed to you Lord Commander not me,” said Rickhart, “Who concerns you more; a man who does bad things for good reasons or a man who does bad things for truly evil reasons.”

“The latter. But that doesn't make you innocent either. Humanity tends to go to some rather barbaric ends, even for good causes, but that doesn't make them, or you, right,” commented Ackvick, “But that is why I said once you’ve done what you needed to do, I’ll arrest you then.”

“Donald or Dasch? One can live and one can died? Choose one Ackvick the Righteous. Show us how easy it is! Not to kill Donald would be to have ensured the death of Dasch,” said Rickhart, with stern conviction, “It was not a choice I asked for; it was thrown upon me. That is the burden of wisdom.”

Ackvick muttered, “Wisdom? More like insanity...”

Rickhart responded moderately annoyed, “If you want proof of my claim, here it is.”

He opened the folder before him, a removed an old destiny map, “I traced out every possible course of action. The choice was so confronting I went over it, over and over again. The detail is refined; the options clear. Tell me that faced with this you would have chosen inaction.”

“But if Palmer ended up doing the killing, then we could eliminate him, easily. Because of your actions, we're now further away then we could have, and we're taking on Palmer flat-footed. Chances are we could have tracked Dasch the same way we did with Donald,” said Ackvick.

“At least two murders and we haven’t caught him yet,” said Rickhart, “And you couldn’t catch me. If Dasch secretly left the ball on Palmer’s beckoning; by the time you found him it would have been too late.”

“Don’t you have some place to be?” Ackvick noted.

Rickhart responded, finally exiting the conference room, “I am late for a meeting with a funeral director, I bid thee good day.”

“...And good riddance,” Ackvick muttered. Rickhart was obviously mad. Perhaps a prophet, but mad. He had too much faith in ‘wisdom’ and ‘fate’. If he wanted to, he could change fate. Ackvick walked out the door. He would help Rickhart, but he had plans for Rickhart, that is, depending on if his prophecy of his death does or does not come true.

Farminan Capital

Leonard D. Morrel, the United States Ambassador to Farmina looked grimly at the cheap, working-class-style building on the outskirts of Verica. The building looked old and unpainted, and it would take thousands of dollars – Allanean dollars – to renovate and to bring up to conditions suitable to the maintenance of a proper embassy. Around the building, a small contingent of guards stood, their weapons cleaned to a shine, their uniforms as clean as if they were just made today morning. He smiled as he walked into the building.

Farmina was not, so far, a primary Allanean interest – and so, his embassy was funded accordingly. The five-story building housed a staff of six people – and of course the guards. Oh well… it’s not like I’ll be doing much work, anyway. I mean, it’s not likely Allaneans would want to travel here. He was wrong.

By the eve of the tenth day since the opening of the embassy, several thousands of Allaneans had applied for a variety of travel visas into Farmina, for business and other purposes. But there was a deeper, hidden reason…

Allanea, Merkaz, Liberty-City, Libertarian Youth Movement Headquarters

My friends! – spoke the young activist – a freckled girl wearing thick, rough plastic glasses – her voice sounded truly excited – We know now that a new power has taken hold in Farmina. It is a power that stands for individual liberty in both the economic and the personal sector – just as the rise of the libertarian movement that brought into existence the United States of Allanea. My friends, this new power – this new man – is President Palmer!

The young boys and girls in the audience cheered.

But it is too early to party, my friends! The Palmer Revolution is still young, and it is possible it will falter. It is menaced by foes from the left and right, by religious Moralists and evil Socialists. And the question rises, my friends – what can we do about it?

There was silence.

Certainly I am not advocating political violence in the manner of the honorable Ashtonbury Brigade – that will only harm our cause – but rather, I have a few peaceful ideas…

* * * * *
In the meanwhile, in the headquarters of the Cute Bunny Corporation, the Foreign Affairs Officer, Matt Bulkin, smiled to his audience:

Gentlemen, this is an extraordinary opportunity. The advent of an economically liberal regime will allow us to open a chain of our restaurants in Farmina. I recommend that an appropriation be made to authorize travel to inspect the situation closer….

“Shut up, Matt. You just want a free trip to Farmina, don’t you?”
Bulkin grinned suddenly. And don’t you, Jake?

They all laughed, and they knew it was true.

All across Allanea

And indeed, all sorts of different Allaneans were now seeking pretext to travel to Farmina. The Farminian Foreign Ministry was stormed with applications for every kind of visa available – work visas, student visas, tourist visas, even citizenship applications. For many in Allanea, Farmina was the site of a revolution not unlike that which created the Allanean system of government, and they welcomed their new friend in the family of free nations.

On Allanean cars, bumper stickers appeared with the red-blue cross of the Farminan flag, and slogans like I support President Palmer, I support Farmina, and even President Palmer: 1, Fascists and Commies: 0.

In the meanwhile, the University of Port-Allanea began to offer a tuition to every Farminan boy who could write a Political Science essay on the importance of individual rights, or an economics essay on the importance of the Free Market. The Libertarian and Republican party rode the wave by organizing workshops for Liberal Party activists, and some corporations began to secretly inquiring about ways they could support what the Allanean papers began to term the Palmer Revolution.

For those who looked at Farmina’s events as a mirror of Allanean history, spring – and liberty – were in the air.

The aging Chief Judge Edwards concluded, “Despite good evidence to suspect that Jamie Palmer would have lost the election, if certain concentrations of ballots were not destroyed, there is no specific constitutional power available to the courts to order a re-vote. Therefore, the court finds in favour of Lord James Palmer.”

Rickhart turned off his radio, hearing what he had already foreseen about the short but vital courtcase. Things however were moving faster than expected; with foriegn nations jumping of the Presidential defeat as a sign that things could not possibly be reversed. Special note was given to the Allaneans who seemed incredibly eager to begin the Palmer Presidency; even before Palmer was. He could see destiny heading towards the forked road. He could not allow Farmina to head towards the forked road.

That was a matter for another time, a long term solution. Rickhart stood up and looked at the rabble he had recruited to deal with the short term. Black-shirts, Socialists, a Messian, the religious right and hired thugs.

“Gentlemen,” began Rickhart, however inappropriate the title, “Tomorrow, we begin resist. Liberal goons and Reaction Corp are locking down the streets of Verica in preparation for the hand over. Palmer came to power on the back of lies. Now he shall pay for his tainted words.”

Rickhart opened up a box of weapons and masks he had been accumulating for just this situation. “You must remind the Liberals that the streets do not belong to them, but to all people. You must force Reaction Corp and the Liberals off the street. While Moralists still rule, the police will not intervene,” explained Rickhart.

The police were still under Moralist control until the handover; and even then Palmer might not demand them, as he needed Moralist votes in Parliament to make his presidency mean anything. Some of those Rickhart had recruited were police, but that was their little secret.

“Is there enough of us to take on Reaction Corp?” asked Lisa, a keen young street 'thug', recalling the massive force with which Reaction Corp battered the unions during the strikebreaking.

Rickhart responded cautiously, “You each represent a force I have recruited for this duty. There is no reason for you to get to friendly with each other. Even considering the groups you all represent, tomorrow there won’t be enough of us. Tomorrow you must use your brains and your superior weapons. You pick fights you can win, then move on. The aim is not to win absolutely; but to resist. Each day our ranks will swell with our secret supporters, who will bring arms to our cause. The Moralist black shall be the colour of the day; it shall be worn so that Palmer only sees one enemy where there are many. Someday, someday we shall force the Liberals and Reaction Corp from our street. Rule for the people, rule by the people.”

Several of the assorted goons repeated, “Rule for the people, rule by the people.”

“These weapons is designed to harm; but never to kill,” warned Rickhart, tilting the crate of nasty toys he had collected, “We spare our enemies and we let them know they were spared. We beat them to the ground, but we let them get up. Only in mercy is there victory.”

Rickhart paused and gave one final warning as he opened more of the box of batons, gas bombs, tasers and mace towards his recruits, “Most importantly you came to this plot of your own accord. I had no involvement in this.”

One of the young Moralist Enforcers, Tony smiled, “You sound like a politician, Lord Chancellor.”

“Peter, my dear fellow,” said Rickhart, “I do not believe I have been more gravely insulted in all my years; nor shall I till I die.”

That recieved a general chuckle; but Rickhart only reminded himself that his destiny was hurtling closer.

OOC: Farmina, telegram.

Our friends!

The Liberty Alliance is a group comprised of the leaders of some of the biggest Allanean companies – Allanean Arms, Allanean Pharmaceuticals, Cute Bunny Burger Corporation, Forte Industries, the Allanean News Network and the CBD Schooling Corporation. The purpose of the Liberty Alliance is to protect the free market and individual liberty at home and abroad.

As such, we are interested to learn about ways we can help you and President Palmer in your struggle for individual liberty and economic freedom in Farmina. This will both promote our values and create good will in the Allanean market and consuming community.

Yours in Liberty,

Kevin Nivensky, CEO, Allanean Arms, Inc.
Miguel Hernandez, CEO, Allanean Pharmaceuticals, Inc.
Robert Kates, CEO, Cute Bunny Burger, Inc.,
Joshua Nahman, CEO, Allanean News Network, Inc.,
Amanda Demented, CEO, CBD Schooling, Inc.
Ripley Forte, CEO, Ripley Industries, Inc.

.

Tobias Grey sipped his coffee in the Parliamentary cafe observing a newspaper article of Liberal supporters being bashed in the street, 'rumours' that they are Reaction Corp men in disguise. Chancellor Dan Rickhart pulled back the seat and sat across from his President, “Tobias, I hope you are not nervous; I realise that you must feel that your political future lives or dies according to what happens in the Parliament today.”

“My dear Dan,” said Tobias, “The only thing that makes me nervous is my father. Do you know me that badly?”

“No, Tobias,” corrected Rickhart, “Your father does not un-nerve you, he terrifies you.”

“You seem to know me better than I do,” laughed Grey bitterly.

“What will you do if your plan fails?” asked Rickhart, knowing full well it would.

“Never happen; the numbers are clearly in our favour,” said Grey, “No need for pessimism in the face of victory.”

“Hypothetically,” said Rickhart, concerned optimism had prevented Grey from planning ahead.

“Make a deal with Palmer,” said Grey, “He needs Moralist support to prop up his Presidency; and he can prop up us in return. Politics is all I have Dan, since my wife...”

Rickhart did not even have the memory of a wife. How he wished he had not been doomed to a life alone; but he had never had anything but work, his work had always been vital. Since he saw how losing a love had destroyed Grey; he wondered if all those years alone were in fact the better choice.

“Sometimes I wish we never had won at Aston,” said Rickhart, “May all our curses be on Justinian.”

Grey responded bluntly, “Everyday I wished we lost and gone into the safety of exile. But all we can do is write the next chapter, not those that are past.”

A bell chimed and Rickhart noted the time, as Grey pushed aside his cold coffee, they both knew what time it was. The Parliament would decided the future of Farmina, “Come Tobias; destiny and perhaps surprise awaits.”

---

The Parliament sat with unusual quiet as Reaction Corp and black-shirts did battle for power over the streets. Jamie Palmer was in his finest attire, ready to assume the office of President. The speaker watched in awe as no one said a word. Jamie Palmer was waiting for every to be present before he made his move. Tobias Grey didn’t give him the opportunity, standing up and declaring, “Mr Speaker, the result of the election was tainted by an act of terrorism, I hereby move that the vote be retaken to determine who is the rightful president.”

Moralists cheered and Liberals booed. That vote was the fork Dan Rickhart saw. With Reaction Corp taking control of the streets, what would stop them clamping down on polling booths, apart from Rickhart’s resistance. Even without Reaction Corp, it could be a close contest. The first false victory could bring Palmer a second legitimate victory. Strength bred strength.

That was the dark fork; the Palmer could win a fair contest. It was certainly within his grasp now. An illegitimate president was far less of a threat than a legitimate one.

Palmer threw dark eyes at Tobias Grey. The speaker nodded, “Very well, your proposal is before the Parliament, Lord President. May we see hands?”

Rickhart watched as hands went up around him. On the Liberal side of the Parliament they stayed down. Socialists were heavily split, while Labour voted unamiously for a re-vote. Tobias Grey looked around in horror, not from the actions of other blocks, but as sections of his own block failed to support his proposal. Then Tobias Grey’s turned to Rickhart, his most loyal henchman failed to support him. He looked at the grimace in Rickhart’s; in that moment that he realised Rickhart wasn’t just voting against the proposal; he had persuaded enough Moralists to vote against it. Tobias Grey mouthed a simple word that conveyed it all, “Judas.”

Rickhart looked down at his feet, as he knew this was only the beginning of his betrayal of Tobias Grey. The speaker could quickly read the votes, “The motion fails.”

Jamie Palmer wasted no time to act, simply clicking his fingers. The young, blond haired Ryan Sidar stood up to speak on behalf of his leader, “I move that the time is now for Lord James Palmer to bestowed the title of President.”

The speaker nodded, “Does anyone have any objection to James Palmer assuming the Presidency?”

Then the heckling began, mainly from the Moralists, but also the Socialists and Labour. “Terrorist”, “Cheat”, “Pedophile”, “Capitalist lackey”. Palmer paid the heckling no heed.

“Is there any reasonable objection to Lord Palmer assuming the presidency?” asked the speaker firmly.

Though the heckling continued, just as loud, and perhaps slightly more vulgar, no one stood. “Then I have no choice,” said the speaker, “I hereby invest the full authority of the Office of President of the Democratic Republic of Farmina; in James Palmer. May I present to the Parliament and the Republic; President James Palmer.”

Suddenly there a sense of reality fell over Parliament. This wasn’t just a dream from which they would all wake up. James Palmer was President.

OOC: Any responses to my messages?

OOC: Post activated.

After the meeting with Rickhart, and meeting with resistance members, Ackvick had moved to the command plane still stationed at the airstrip. He ended up calling in additional troops to reinforce their holding, now standing at 600 men and women, and he knew about his ace in the hole. He ended up calling in a meeting back in the MES.

--------

"Deploy the RAIDERS* Black Ops team.

The others in the room murmured slightly in surprised. "Sir, are you sure that is wise with the situation?"

Ackvick chuckled. "From my sources, the Palmer presidency is both tainted and corrupt, and Rickhart has requested that we help with the resistance. I am rather split between the two governments, but the Palmer presidency is a possible threat, moreso than even the corrupt moralists. Which is why I want to get involved in an invisible way. I want some of our men to dress as blackshirts, and join the rest with the uprising. As for the RAIDERS team, you know that this team has been in training for decades since as children, and are all prepared to be the best at their roles. And best of all, they're the best stealth units we have. They can infiltrate almost any government or terrorist agency, using our latest disguising techniques, and their abilities. It is time to secure Farmina once and for all, because I bet that the people are getting as fed up as we are."

The others nodded at the long winded answer. "Sir, is there anything else?"

"Of course," Ackvick said. "I heard that today is the beginning of the new Parlament. If Grey loses the vote to boot Palmer, then we may need to move quickly to secure him. However, we will also need the team for the Shadow, and the other groups. Deploy them immediately."

--------

He opened his eyes slowly, looking around the very dark room around him. He could hear a large mechanical noise rumbling around him. He looked around, and saw familiar faces around him. He looked down into his hands. He was holding his modified Falcon Magnum pistol, equiped with a silencer. He loved this gun, being able to knock down anyone within six paces, while maintaining accuracy.

"We're about ten minutes out. All members, prepare for disembarkment." he heard over the loudspeaker.

He slowly got up and looked at the other members. There was Tiger, an excellent markswoman with amazing looks which she uses to her advantage. Then there was Rhino, a tough-built man who knows how to use everything from the simplest pistol to tank cannons. Then there was Panther, a very fast operative who some refer him to as 'Neo' for how fast he moves, although he doesn't move as fast as the movie for obvious reasons. There was also Violet, a skilled computer hacker, who is also very good with her favorite dual pistols.

Then there was himself. Viper. Hinted to be the best skilled soldier and infiltrator in the nation, and perhaps the world. He has knocked down hundreds of people and stopped entire crisis from happening, without anyone ever knowing. He prefered going by himself, but in this case, he knew it was too big to clear by himself. But he is getting the toughest job: Recovering Grey, and taking him to safety. The thought made him angry. His government was so messed up that it ended up letting organised crime and terrorist groups move around freely, which killed Force Commander Donald. He was a good man. And he will be infiltrating the Palmer government, and then whoever else that the path leads to. He hoped to find out the perpretrator, and then bring him back...alive.

He saw the commanding officer walk out of the front of the plane. He cocked his pistol, and put it into the holster.

"Alright, listen up! This is routine, but I'll repeat it anyways! This is a HALO** jump, so remember! Do not open too late or you'll become the world's messiest pancake! Open too soon and you'll be made into swiss cheese by their anti-air weapons, and give us more trouble! Once you land, do not, and I emphasize this, do not open fire on anyone unless your life is in danger! As well, remember that this is a black op. We will deny your very existance. Lock and load!"

An alarm started, as the back door of the plane opened. This particular plane is a special-purposely built stealth aircraft designed to evade detection, and to fly at very high altitudes. He knew that the fall would be very long from experience, but once he landed, anything could happen.

He put on his oxygen mask as the officer yells out the countdown.

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

"Jump!"

He jumped out of the plane with the others and aimed himself straight downwards towards the nation under the dark night sky below...

* - RAIDERS = Retaliate Assasinate Infiltrate Destroy Espionage Recon Stealth

** - HALO = High Altitude Low Open

OOC: My computer has been subject to large scale butchery, crippling posting capability.

And Mes; what was your question?

OOC: I was wondering wether or not Ackvick would talk the blackshirts in creating a disruption for just long enough to deploy the special troops. Check my post, it's in white.

To Allanean Liberty Alliance

Reaction Corporation is expecting to soon get large security contracts. In an effort to re-establish our corporations financial position, we may need large grants of money and physical strength, in addition to those already held by the corporation. All resource boosts will make it easier to fulfill said contracts.

Furthermore, Reaction Corporation denies all connections to the Palmer Administration. Reaction Corporation is a politically neutral entity, only interested in corporate matters. By whatever means you came to assume such a link, is false.

Roger Hanshuck
CEO of Reaction Corporation
Member of the Corporate Coalition

Force Commander Jason Snyder was thinking about the plan on the way to Farmina. From request by Ackvick, he was told to go to Farmina to deal with the situation there. Ackvick said that it would be a good learning experience to get into this situation.

Damn that fool, he thought to himself. Always thinking he was always right in the end. He knew nothing about ruling a country. Ruling a country required a man who could rule it without second thoughts and controlling the nation into a slick, well oiled machine. Pity the fool that stood up to him.

And now this foreign crap, he thought. He didn't want to go to Farmina. One Force Commander already died there, which showed how badly planned this operation was. If he was ruling the country, he would of smashed it under an iron fist of fighter planes, tanks, his naval force, and the newly developed weapons satellites. Once he gained power, he would bring Farmina under his control, as an entity of his envisioned world government.

But he had to think realistically. He had to gain control of his own nation first. Once he had control of his nation, he could help bring stability over the war-stricken globe once and for all, wether it be by peaceful means or by fear. It was the only way he could help humanity survive.

"We are preparing to land. Please buckle into your seats."

Snyder looked out the window. He could see Farmina outside. It was an island country, he was told, with beatiful areas. But he had more important matters to deal with.

As the plane touched down, he thought about courses of action. Until his takeover of the silly Messian government, he would play nice with the Farminans. But once that was over, he had other plans...

Snyder was sitting in his office, looking at some communiques that have gone through, when an electric buzz went off. Snyder muttered. "Enter," he said, closing his laptop. The door opened, revealing a soldier. "Sir, we've recieved a communique from the Farminans. President Palmer wishes to meet with you."

Snyder looked towards the soldier. This was to be expected with his arrival, he thought to himself. "Very well, prepare a vehicle for departure."

--------

"Welcome Commander Snyder," said James Palmer, "May I get you a drink?"

"Sure, get me a half-shot of Vodka, straight," Snyder said, taking a seat in front of Palmer's desk. Snyder was wearing the typical dark grey and black uniforms of the MES. He had black hair, and had black shades, but at the moment had them taken off. Snyder looked with his eyes to the left and right, surveying the room. The room was a dark, blue, dimly lit, decorated by plants and fine art. A young man placed it before Snyder and then promptly left, closing the door behind him. Palmer picked up an elaborate dagger, and balanced it gently between two fingers, "I get the impression you did not approve of this assignment."

Snyder looked at him suspiciously, "Why do you say this, mister President?"

"One force commander died here; the other now has questionable sanity," said Palmer, "Farmina seems to a carry a curse for the Messians; a curse that seperates the strong from the weak."

"If you put it that way, I have had thoughts." Snyder talked in a mainly flat, and deep tone.

"It is a test," said Palmer, running the sharp edge of his dagger along his left palm, "Farmina seperates the strong from the weak; and gives power to the strong. Do you like power Commander."

Snyder looked at him directly into his eyes. His body moved a couple of centimeters closer. "What are you trying to imply?" he asked bluntly.

"I am just seeing if we are the same wave length," said Palmer, studying the blood drip down his hand.

"Why did you cut yourself?" he asked, looking at the blood. What is that man up to? he thought to himself.

"Pain," explained Palmer, "Is not that different from pleasure. Pleasure we crave and pain highlights our pleasure. But power; that is different again. Power makes us lord of both pain and pleasure."

Snyder looked back into his eyes. His eyelids closed somewhat, but not completely closed, still looking at the bleeding President. "And what are you scheming?"

"I already have power," said Palmer, "Now all I need is to enjoy the pleasure...and the pain."

"And what are you refering to when you say this?" Snyder said, still squinting.

"Merely that it is my time to the pick the fruit I please," said Palmer, "Like that pleasent young servant who was in here earlier. Tell me Snyder; do you desire power, do you desire my power?"

Snyder didn't like playing games. But he had thoughts about this Palmer character. He could be a useful tool if he played along. But he wouldn't play games. "Get to the point Palmer. What is it that you wish to know about me, or want of me?" he said, without missing a moment.

Palmer then saw he needed to cut to the chase, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

The comment got Snyder to give a wicked smile on his face. "Well..." Snyder said, taking a drink, and putting the cup down. "I see that you are wanting something from me, something to do with power. Something to bring absolute power." He shifted in his seat to get into a slightly more intimidating pose, subtle but noticeable. "I have inspirations, yes. Now, the question is, what are you aiming for?"

"You are the more interesting subject," said Palmer standing up, still carrying his knife, "You do not wish to be here; yet you definitely have a taste for power. Perhaps you see yourself in Ackvick's chair?"

Snyder felt one of his hand sliding next to his sidearm in case he did any sudden movements. He didn't care if he shot him in self defense, he had the authority to pull out of the nation. "Perhaps," he said.

"Being here means you cannot sit in that chair," said Palmer, wiping his blade, as he walked around the desk.

Snyder stood up, and stood just far enough away to keep him from Palmer, but close enough to still look intimidating. "Get to the point, Palmer. What do you scheme?"

"The wrong man sits in Ackvick's chair," said Palmer, "We can both see that."

"That man, is incompetant. If I was leading the nation, this situation would have been handled long ago," he blurted. He kept standing far enough away.

"Handled," said Palmer stepping foward, "You wouldn't have got involved in the first place. And the cost; my goodness the cost."

"Very true," Snyder said, taking a step backwards, and cursing mentally about that fact. His statement could have revealed the plan. But it was safe...so far. "Now, what did you want from me?"

"Here, you can do Ackvick no harm," said Palmer, "Perhaps even he realises that. But here you are safe. Here I protect you; here he cannot reach."

"That man," Snyder commented, "has more power than you could possibly imagine. Between him and the six of us, we have the power to change nations. But the seven person system is flawed. We need one ruler, not six."

"You are safe here," said Palmer in his pleasent, yet to some disturbing voice, "Take this blade as proof."

Snyder looks apprehensive. "What is the worth of that blade?" he asked suspiciously.

"It is proof that I promise you no harm; from myself or from him," said Palmer, "But if you desire power; you must prove you are strong."

Snyder grabbed the knife, and studied it. He then took the knife and, using the opposite side that Palmer used for himself, cut his hand with it.

"I am stronger than you could possibly imagine," he said to Palmer. "Don't play games with me."

He then handed the knife back.

Palmer liked the knife, "Sweet. So you will do whatever it takes them? Perhaps I could have another taste of you?"

"Taste?" he said with a slightly disgusted look. "You disgusting freak," he said. That with the images of the 'pleasent young servant' flashed through his mind. He didn't care for it as a politician, but he dispised the thought of it personally.

"Don't knock anything you haven't tried," said Palmer, although he wasn't sure they were talking about the same thing.

"Tell me your terms or my time here was wasted for nothing," he said harshly. He felt his hand caressing the pistol in his holdster.

"No need to brash," said Palmer, before adding, "Exile. I would first like to test your resources, then you shall sit in Ackvick's chair."

"Exile? Explain." His hand stopped caressing the pistol. His hand went to his side again. He still kept his distance from what he considered to be a very sick man. He knew he could crush him easily. He could sense weakness and insanity in him.

"You are here as an exile, a stranger in a dangerous land, far from your power base," said Palmer, "Clearly there is a power imbalance between us; and you need to prove your worth exile."

"The test is simple," said Palmer, "Amy Ackvick must die, painfully."

"That will be difficult, but not impossible. I planned on it a while ago in fact, so it fits in perfectly," he said.

"Very painfully," said Palmer, "I want to be completely distgusted. This must be the horror of horrors; it must destroy you nation's leader. Then the power balance shall radically swing."

"Considering the security, that would be even harder to plan. But I have symphasizers all set to do this. I'm not the only one in this. I even have an army under my command."

"I don't expect you to do it personally," said Palmer, "But this is a blow to bring down a house of cards. The perfect strike with Dasch mad, Donald dead and you ready to mend the damage. Then we build the new house."

"We shall see," he said.

"Is there anything else?" he asked Palmer.

"There were a few horrific murders in Farmina recently if you want some inspiration," said Palmer, preparing to open the door. As Palmer approached the door, Snyder gestured towards his sidearm. He slowly drew it out, then held it barrel first. It wasn't an ordinary pistol for Snyder, but it was very obvious to Palmer. "Like I said, I am more powerful than you could ever imagine. Cross me, or doublecross me, and you will die." The pistol was a K16, but equiped with a silencer. He then put the pistol away.

"I get the idea subtly isn't your strong point," observed Palmer.

Snyder chuckled. "Don't get in my way. I can kill you as easily as it was for me to get this specially modified K16 for this meeting. It wouldn't be hard to get you eliminated. Remember that, and you will live. Now that you know, you must commit to this, or you will die."

"Succeed in this blow; and keep the truth hidden," said Palmer, "Then I shall give you what you need."

Snyder nodded, and opened the door. "Very well. And to answer your question, I am the man who will bring stability to this planet, once and for all." He walked out, leaving Palmer in the room.

"Goodbye Commander Snyder," said Palmer, before thinking to himself, "Now where is that nice serving boy."

The Allanean Liberty Alliance responded to the request with vigour – indeed, a big personnel resources company was hired to get unemployed Allaneans to apply for Farminan work visas. Labor – cheap and enthusiastic labor – streamed into the Reaction force factories. In the after-work hours, the workers hung about the streets, some partying loudly, others waving their fists and tools at Moralist goons. Of course, given Allanean political climate, even the majority of left-wing Allaneans would vote for President Palmer had they been Farminans. As it stood, their very mingling with the locals affected the situation, and the public opinion in some way. And the the Liberty Alliance had more tricks up their sleeve.

Within a month, Cute Bunny Burger Corporation (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=471405) applied for permission to open a chain of fast-food restaurants throughout Farmina. These would be run by a new, Farminan division of CBBC, employing almost exclusively locals. This would create a lot of jobs for the locals – and the large, golden bunny head profile, visibile over every CBB franchise would be a bright new symbol of the new prosperity that President Palmer had brought. Of course, CBBC would rake in a huge profit. That was a given.

Allanean Arms, Incorporated equally applied for permits to open car dealerships throughout the nation on the same principle. This would expose the Farminans to brand-new – and cheap, on the ratio of approximately 5,500 Universal Standard Dollars – Allanean-designed SUV's* and other, higher-scale cars. The rationale was to accustom the locals to Allanean-style consumerism, which would, per se, create an incentive to maintain a liberal economy in the long term. Again, this would both back Palmerist liberalism – and make Allanean Arms a little bit richer.

In Allanea itself, Palmer and the Farminans were growing more and more companies. Fifty different companies applied with bids for rights to use the Farminan president's likeness on shirt, beer packages, and cigarette advertisements in Allanea. At the Liberty-City University campus, a 1,000-man rally was held in support of the Palmer Revolution.

And Liberty Alliance sent out a secret message to President Palmer:

Dear Sir!
Is there any way in which our organisation can help your political success?


OOC:

* Based on the 6,800 European SUV they are planning on, except totally cheapskate, think “Soviet Car”. Designed by Van Luxemburg

Tobias Grey rolled the cigarette left back along his lips, “No.”

Palmer’s eyes flicked back from Grey to the team of lawyers sitting at the end of the table, writing the agreement as the two men negotiated.

“Yes,” corrected Palmer, flicking his eyes back across the Palace conference room to Tobias Grey.

Tobias Grey momentarily removed the cigarette from his mouth, “Only if you make me Chancellor of Foreign Affairs.”

Palmer paused thoughtfully for a minute, “Yes.”

The lawyers hurriedly and quietly spoke, their fingers hit keyboards. “But,” added Palmer, causing the lawyers to pause, “You must support my labour laws.”

“No,” said Tobias, “I can get up and walk off, leaving you with an unworkable government and Parliament.”

“If you walk out of here,” warned Palmer, “You leave Farmina without a functioning government; with Parliament and President at war with each other. You will be abandoning Farmina for political selfishness.”

The two men had been using the same leverage against each other for two days now; trying to iron out a coalition agreement. It went back and forward, each slowly giving the other ground; just a bit, and definitely slowly.

“I have agreed to much economic liberalization,” said Tobias, “I have agreed we shall share the cabinet equally. But your labour laws push it too far.”

“There is nothing unreasonable in them,” said Palmer defensively, “I have promised you Defence, Foreign Affairs, Agriculture, Health and Education. The Moralists will lose little power in this cabinet.”

“But we will be signing away regulations we put in place to protect the people,” noted Grey.

“Not nearly as much as I would like,” said Palmer, “Now if you agree to the labour laws, then everything is settled.”

“Remove the strike ban,” said Grey, “Let workers have a negotiating period in which they can strike, but not outside of it.”

Palmer grimaced, “I don’t like the sound of that one bit.”

“Take it or leave it,” said Grey.

Palmer paused for a moment then said, “Only if you let me appoint a Liberal, Longwool, Chancellor of Defence. Then you can have your negotiating period.”

Grey paused then said, “In addition we won’t tamper the top tax rate.”

“No,” said Palmer firmly.

“Yes,” said Grey, with equal firmness.

There was a brief silence. “Very well, you win Chancellor Grey,” said President Palmer.

“Only when the Parliament sits,” said Tobias, “I am still Mister till then.”

But the Parliament would again be sitting within days. Then Palmer would be one step closer to what he sought.

Corporations Act

Section 7
Any corporate entity, of non-Farminan ownership, is to be deemed a foreign corporation,
Subsection 1
Any international corporation may lawfully conduct business within Farmina, unless in violation of any other subsection of section 7,
Subsection 2
Any operations of a foreign corporation within Farmina, must have at least 80% of its workforce as citizens of Farmina
Subsection 3
If a foreign corporation fails to operate within the bounds of the law, a court of law or the President have the power to permanently suspend the said corporation’s operations,
Subsection 4
The suspension of operations under Section 7, allows for government nationalization of corporate assets held in Farmina, without compenations,
….
Subsection 6
Should a majority vote of Parliament find it no longer appropriate for a specific foreign corporation to continue operations in Farmina, the said operations must be suspended,


OOC: Reaction Corp is a ‘security’ firm; they don’t operate factories.

OOC: Okay, how about... Also note that all the stuff I am opening in Farmina complies with that, only maybe one or two managers are Allaneans, and most of the CBC branches will be run by franchisees.

IC: The idea of working in a security company that backed – according to rumours – the Palmer Revolution appealed to many young men. Soldier of Fortune Allanea ran an ad for Reaction Corp of its own pocket, and soon, the volunteers began to flow in.

As Snyder returned back to the command plane, a soldier approached him.

"Sir, we have recieved a message from back home, they're requesting new information about Palmer."

Snyder looked at the man. He told them that he was going to meet with Palmer, and with the trust levels of the Force Commanders, he could get away with lying.

"Pass on to them that I made some headway, and that he seemed to be quite persuasive and seemed to be a reasonable politican," Snyder said as he walked past the soldier.

As he walked into the communications room, another officer turned to him. "Sir, I'm getting another message from headquarters. They say that the package has been delivered. Whatever that meant, sir."

Snyder knew. The RAIDERS have been deployed in the nation. He hadn't heard anything unusual in Farminan communications traffic, so he doubted the 'package' was detected. He walked out of the room, without a thank you, and went back into his office.

He entered his office, and opened up a console. He typed in a security code, loaded up a spy-blocking program to block Messian scanners, and dialed up a number. A few moments later, a person appeared on the console.

"Stinger, I need you to help me continue the plan. I have a target for you, and I want you to make it...messy."

"Who is your target, m'lord?" the man said.

"Force Commander Amy Ackvick, as previously schedualed. But a small change of plan; like I said I want it messy. I want that fool to be stricken with the loss of his wife."

"Aye, sir." The communication ceased. Snyder then typed up another code. He then typed up another code.

Confirming Console Access...Granted
Transmitting Security Codes....Done
Loading up Orbital Defense Network....Done

Please Enter Your Password:

Snyder typed in the password, then another.

Please Enter Your Password: ********
Please Enter Password Two: **********
Access Granted.

Please Enter Sattelite Class: weapon
Enter Sattelite Number: 9

Invalid Sattelite.

Snyder then typed a few letters numbers into the console, even though there was no prompt.

Access Granted.
Loading Domination Weapons Sattelite (WS#9)...Done

A screen loaded up with various readouts of orbital positioning, weapon status, and targets on the ground. He remember ordering the construction of the sattelite during his tenure as the four star General of the space program. He hid the costs inside parts of the other space program expendatures, mainly the trash-into-space program. He burried the trash into the ocean so no one was the wiser.

The weapon itself was the biggest weapon sattelite that the MES had. Instead of one large beam array, it had seven smaller, but combined more powerful blast than the originals. He had plans for this weapon. For now, he would keep it over Farmina, to make sure that Palmer does nothing stupid. But later, once the plan was implimented, he would use it against his former collegues.

He typed in a few things, and the screen moved the targeting box to over the Farminan capital. He would leave it there. He activated one of the features of the sattelite. In space, a small door opened on the bottom of the weapon, exposing a much smaller version of the weapon. He added it on purpose as an intimidation weapon. Enough to kill a single person, and no more. He liked it because he could indescriminately kill a single person anywhere on the globe.

But he dispised the weapon. It was so indiscriminate, possibly killing more than he wanted. He liked having people assasinated, to cut down on the suspicion against him. He only killed indescriminately when he had no choice. But when it came to Palmer, he felt so disgusted that he felt he should kill him personally, and torture the sick pervert when his usefullness ended. He pressed a few buttons and it moves the sattelite away from Farmina to a holding orbit over the ocean between the two nations. When the time came, he would die.

Prompt: log off

The program shut down, and went back to the main Messian database screen. He shut the laptop face, and leaned back on his chair. He would have total victory, but he was almost impatient to get to that point. But victory requires a clear mind, and for the moment he had it.

--------

In the dark night, black parachutes opened, no one noticing the black on black in the sky above. Viper looked down towards the ground, and flared his chute to slow down the landing on the industrial district below. From satellite intelligence, this would be the closet place they could jump without being detected. He felt his feet hit terra firma, and quickly reeled in his chute. His other squadmates landed around him, and did the same. He looked around the immediate vicinity, finding no one but themselves. They wrapped up their chutes and put them in their bag. They said nothing, they knew what they had to do.

They looked around a corner and saw a large factory. It should be perfect for what they wanted to do. They walked into the large abandoned building, and found a fair sized room inside of it that was mainly empty except for some garbage and a large damaged table. They put their bags on the table, pulled out some communications equipment, laid out some remote explosives, pistols, ammunition, sub-machineguns, grenades, and some other electronics. One of them took out a box with a soccerball-sized dish on top, and took it outside, and moved it to the roof. She typed in a few codes, and picked up a communicator attached to the side of it.

"MES Command. The package has been opened."

--------

The man lurked in the shadows. He could see his target, a woman talking to a friend in a bar nearby the headquarters. He would have to wait until the woman was alone. He keep looking through the shadows, and watched her eat, talk, laugh and smile. She was an attractive woman. Unfortunately, he would have to break that purity.

After watching for over a half an hour, she saw her pay, and walk out of the building towards the parking lot. She didn't like having her escorts, but this time it was going to cost her dearly.

He saw her wave goodbye to her friend as she walked to the car. He looked around for any Big Brothers in the area, and noticed none. He inshieved a very nasty looking knife, that had hooks on it for maximum tear factor. As she went to unlock her car, he lunged at her. She jumped in surprise just as the knife jabbed into her chest. She tried to scream but she couldn't. He pulled it out, and lunged again. Her eyes filled with tears, and spitted out blood as she fell backwards onto the ground. He went to stab again, then he could hear a loud, long and repeating BWWWWWWOOOOOOPPPPP!!!! in the background. The city's alarm system went off. He knew he was the reason why it started. From what Snyder told him, she wore one of those cursed health rings too. He placed the knife in front of her, as she curled up in pain, and he quickly moved off before the Messian police arrived.

--------

Ackvick was in the control center when a soldier walked in. He had a look of absolute shock. "What's wrong Private?" he asked.

"Sir! Your wife...she's just been brutally attacked!"

Ackvick felt his life force drain from him. "You said...what?"

"Your wife has been attacked, sir!"

Ackvick quickly moved out of the room, follow the Private out.

The night hid the club landed firmly in the face of the Reaction Corp mercenary. A loud thud marked the man hitting the ground, like the four before him. Another Reaction Corporation man pulled out leveled his taser, but a wooden bat slammed into his back, sending him to the ground. Again the bat came down, smashing the man’s kneecaps. For a moment the dozen men in black and white masks, observed the six Reaction Corporation men lying on the ground. Red-blood stained the navy-blue Reaction Corporation uniforms.

“I’ve never seen them openly in uniform before,” muttered Roy, remembering that in the past Reaction Corporation troops had disguised as Liberal goons in a lighter blue.

Peter grabbed the taser from the Reaction Corp man, “They don’t think they need to hide among thugs anymore. Sam, how’s the arm?”

“Broken sir,” said the black-shirt named Sam.

“We’ll get it fixed up later,” said Peter, his feet entering a brisk walk, “But our first concern is the Libs and Reaction Corp.”

Rickhart’s black-shirt thugs needed no warning. With all haste their feet pounded the path, but then they came to a sudden halt. Two Liberals were marked out in a light blue, armed with baseball bats, and seemingly eager for a fight with those in black.

“Take’em down,” said Peter, withdrawing the taser he had taken from the Reaction Corp man.

A flicker of light, and suddenly the Liberal’s saw they were badly outnumbered, and out armed. They turned to flee, but the one followed the other in hitting the ground; shocked by black-shirt tasers. More of those in black ran up to the subdued Liberals, before belting them with clubs and legs.

“Lets go,” said Peter, but making a mental note that less Liberals were on the streets now.

And with haste did the soldiers of the black disappear into the night.

To: Government of Farmina
From: Department of Foreign Affairs, Northern Colonies
Subject: Congraulations

Dear Mr. Palmer

Congraulations on gaining the position. We hope that, under your leadership that our two countries can prosper and grow.

Your Sincerely,
Alexander Peters
Minister for Foreign Affairs
Northern Colonies

To Alexander Peters,

I personally accept your congratulations and wholly hope for warm relations with your nation, despite the previous misunderstanding between myself and the SGC Jonathan O’Brien.

James Palmer
President of Farmina

Dan Rickhart swirled the glass of wine gently, as he sat in the abandoned warehouse, he had converted to a safehouse, “Tony, Peter, Lisa; I assume all went well?”

Dan Rickhart was not nearly as incredibly tall when sitting down, especially when talking to three others who were standing. Rickhart wore full black-shirt regalia, something that seemed out of place even for him. It was a very fine uniform indeed; Rickhart wore the rank of General; but it was not something a sane man would wear in the open these days. But Rickhart even wore the beret; as well as his military medals from the war. He could not have dressed more impressively if tried.

“Half a dozen more of Lord Palmer’s troop who be walking into dark alley’s any more,” said Peter.

Rickhart noted the use of the title ‘Lord’ rather than President; Rickhart also went by the old title and for the same reason.
“One of the Reaction Corp buildings may be in need of major repairs,” said Lisa, “And water, lots of water.”

The description was vague but informative, just as Rickhart liked in underhand matters.

Tony spoke last, “Broke a couple of Reaction Corp legs in Verica Markets. The rest scampered after a few hoodlums slashed one of those dogs around the throat.”

More and more were fighting back against Reaction Corp and the Liberals; however Rickhart was advocating a strategy of minimum violence. These new rebels were dangerous and could bring down Palmer’s fist harder and more indiscriminately. Then again; Reaction Corp fled and more allies (even uncontrolled ones) are better than nothing.

“How bad were the injuries amongst your men?” asked Rickhart, sipping the fine red wine.

Lisa ignored the assumption of masculinity, Farmina was generally a man’s world; but Rickhart was willing to take whoever he could.

“Largely minor,” said Peter, “Although we did have one broken arm. Must have fallen off a ladder.”

“Of course,” said Rickhart, “Lisa, Tony?”

“None,” said Lisa, “We mustn’t have been up to much trouble.”

Tony again spoke last, “Just a few scratches. Took’em by surprise.”

That was a change. Of the three men, Tony Yarda was the most frontal, with the least finesse. His strategy had been to find Reaction Corp men, batter them flat and then move on. It was a strategy with some effect, increasing moral and hurting the enemy; but also could cause greater injury to the smaller side.

“Reaction Corp men were in their own uniform,” added Peter.

“I noticed that,” said Tony, “And the Liberals weren’t out in force. Suppose most of their rank were really corporate troops.”

“Perhaps there is something else going on here,” said Lisa.

Rickhart smiled, the lass was bright, “As of this afternoon; the Palmer government has signed a massive law enforcement contract with Reaction Corporation. Reaction Corporation is now a branch of the police.”

“Then why less Liberals?” asked Tony.

“Palmer probably doesn’t feel he needs them to control the streets,” suggested Peter, “He now has a private police force.”

“That is my thinking,” confirmed Rickhart, “His grip is tightening so he can afford to do away with weak half measures.”

“How tight?” asked Lisa.

Rickhart put down his glass of wine and picked up three envelopes, “As my finest men, my three favorite Lords of the Resistance, I ask that you protect these with your life; and continue to organize the resistance as I have done; choosing targets and timing attacks.”

He passed Tony an envelope labeled, “Pharmaceuticals.” To Lisa he handed a envelope marked, “Destiny.” Finally he gave Peter an envelope reading, “Truth.”

“These secrets I give you are dangerous just to know,” said Rickhart, “Do not break the seals. I need you to keep these from the Liberals, and give them to…”

Rickhart heard the sound of footsteps echoing around the warehouse, “Get into the sewer, run for your life.”

“Why?” asked Tony.

“RUN!” yelled Rickhart, a vein protruding on his forehead.

The three bolted, but Rickhart did not. He sat down again and sipped his wine. He then proceeded to pour himself a fresh glass, before turning on a small portable stereo, which began to play his favorite Mozart.

Peter turned back to face Rickhart, staring at the old man just sitting there; a hero of the Moralists, dressed truly finely, just waiting for fate. Rickhart picked up his copy of Plato’s “Republic” and continued reading. With his right hand, he picked up his glass of very fine wine and took another sip. The old man was in a state of bliss; enjoying his favorite things, no longer bothered by affairs of state that had become the continual drain on him. Peter saw a true smile on Rickhart’s face, just for a moment before being pulled down into the sewer, the grate drawn over his head.

But bliss was a short feeling; the great roller door of the warehouse pulled open, a creaking noise trying to compete with Mozart. Dan Rickhart did not look up from his book, simply drinking the expensive wine a little faster. The warehouse lights illuminated the navy blue uniforms of a row of men that appeared as the door rolled up.

“Daniel Rickhart,” declared one of the men in the middle, “Time’s up.”

Rickhart paid the Reaction Corp men no heed, taking another large sip, “May I please finish this paragraph?”

Rickhart still did not look up; hearing the faint sound of weapon’s being unholstered. “I am the bait in my own trap,” Rickhart thought, “My life will be spent to buy the greatest possible return.”

The unseen voice barked, “Fire.”

Within an instant of triggers pulled; Dan Rickhart in all his regalia slumped in the chair; his book falling on his lap and his wine glass shattering on the floor as Mozart continued to play triumphantly.

Ackvick arrived at the hospital where Amy Ackvick was taken to. He quickly pulled up to the emergency entrance, got out of his SUV, and ran into the ER. He could see her being treated. Blood was everywhere. A doctor turned to notice his arrival.

"AMY! he yelled as he ran up to her bedside. She was unconscious. A security guard stopped him short of the bed where they were trying to keep her alive.

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't be in here." the man said bluntly.

"I have to! Ackvick said as he was slowly forced out of the room. "That's an order!" His eyes started tearing up, and he could feel warm water going down his face.

"No, sir!" the guard said. Ackvick palmed the guard in the face, and darted to her. He held onto her face, and cried heavily.

"Sir! We need room! She's in critical condition!" one of the nurses said, as the guard regained composure, and tried to pull Ackvick free.

Then he heard some beeps turn into a solid line.

"Her heart's stopped beating!" one of the ER technicians said. The security guard pulled Ackvick off after he let go.

"Clear!"

Amy's chest lifted up as the paddles shocked her chest.

--------

Force Commander AJ Dasch laid in bed beside Alana Makion, his fiance.

"I love you," he said.

She snuggled close to him. "I love you too."

"It's been an amazing few weeks, hasn't it?" Dasch said. His hand was still healing, but the wound was healing nicely since Sanderson stabbed it with a broken glass. It didn't hurt anymore to stroke her hair with the hand (or do anything with it).

"Definitely," she said. "I've forgotten how big and beautiful this country is...I think I stayed around Francisco-Angelas for too long."

"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" Dasch said. He looked outside the hotel patio window. He could see the beach and ocean outside.

He felt her nod as she stayed close to him. Dasch could feel himself fall asleep.

BZZZZZZZT!

He heard his pager go off. He was surprised, as he was on leave. She mumbled as he leaned over and grabbed it off of the nightstand.

AMY ACKVICK IN HOSPITAL - CONTACT AT ONCE - JAMES

Dasch's eyes opened in surprise. He put it down behind him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Amy's in the hospital. I better call James." Dasch picked up his communicator, and dialed James' communicator.

Booooooop

He listened to the dialtone.

Booooooop

Booooooop

He wondered why Ackvick didn't answer. He usually answered fairly quickly.

Booooooop

Booooooop

Booooooop

Dasch went to hang up when he heard James's voice. He sounded distraught.

"Amy's been attacked, And I think she's dead!" he said.

"My god..." Dasch said. "I'll take the next flight back to Angelas. Hang in there bud."

"What am I going to do...?" Ackvick said quietly, crying. "She was everything to me!"

"Don't say that Jimmy boy!" Dasch said sternly. "She'll probably make it. She's a tough girl, and I have faith that she will. And if not...I'm sure you'll pull through. You're a Force Commander for cripes sake!"

He could hear James whimper. "I hope you're right..."

--------

Force Commander Lance Kaider walked into the press room, and walked up to the podium. The media was waiting, taking pictures of the man as he set up.

"Today, I must bring our nation bad news. Force Commander Amy Ackvick has been murdered."

--------

Snyder heard his laptop beep. He opened an eye as his arm came down and pressed a button on his laptop. He rotated his seat and looked out the window. "Snyder."

"It's been done, m'lord."

"Very good. You have served me well. Continue your good work and you will earn additional benefits."

"Yes m'lord."

The communication ended. He looked outside in the early morning light. Then he heard his door buzzer go off. He rotated his seat to the door. "Enter."

The door opened and the familiar soldier stood there. "Sir, we may have a problem."

Lisa felt a tear behind her mask. Two nights ago they left behind Dan Rickhart and not seen him again. She wouldn’t see him tomorrow either, and she knew that. Not a word in the papers yet; how long before someone noticed he was gone? The tear was not for Rickhart; but simply that he would not be the first.

Tonight she would have a revenge like no other. She faced her fellows dressed in black; each wearing the same indistinguishable white mask; the face of the resistance. “Palmer finds his support in the Corporate Coalition,” she told her small band hiding in the shadows; as were hundreds of other groups all across Farmina, “But further than that; see that Allanea, they build on every street corner in Palmer’s name. Tonight every inch of the resistance that could be mobilized has been, to strike the same target. Let us stab Palmer and his allies where they have never been stabbed before.”

Leading the small band forward towards the Cute Bunny construction site; Lisa was the first to light her petrol bomb; but others followed in close suit. Then in timed hurls, the small blazing lights flew through the darkness towards the half complete foreign business.

As Lisa watched the bright lights travel in the air; she remembered this attack was not unique; she had organized for fire to reach every Allanean influence in Farmina. “If the Liberty Alliance dare hold hands with the Corporate Coalition, or any other member of this conspiracy, they shall know that their hands will burn.”

The State of Amestria,
Northwestern Amestria,
Le Cecilienhof Hotel,
Foreign Minister de Villepin’s Room

Dominique de Villepin, the Honorable Minister of Foreign Affairs, sat in his hotel room enjoying his morning tea and paper, Le Monde diplomatique. He had left his own district, where his reelection was guaranteed, to lend his popularity to an embattled Social Democrat comrade. De Villepin had not had much luck at changing minds, although he was a well regarded and deeply popular Foreign Minister, his position just did not translate into sizable political capital at the local level… Although one of the reasons he was so popular was his distance from the governments domestic policies and the co-governing Socialist Party. De Villepin had angered many people in the coalition for outright criticism of the Socialists Proposed Economic Policy, which he had called “the world’s longest suicide note.”

The Minister had been traveling around quite a bit in recent weeks and it was nice to sit back, relax, and enjoy some of the more tranquil things in life. De Villepin turned to page seven. The most prominent article on that page was the situation in Farmina. The new President, Palmer had been sworn in after a questionable victory against a corrupt fundamentalist ruling order. Since the election Farmina’s capital had become awash with reports and rumors of street fighting. Democracy, hardly, more Mobocracy. The Liberals, for all their supposed virtue, have not hesitated in resorting to the very same tactics used by the Moralists in order to cement their power.

De Villepin took another sip of his tea and glanced out the window. ‘The sky was clear. It looks like the recent streak of good weather will last a few more days.

De Villepin returned to his newspaper. It seemed that the “Palmer Revolution”, as it had been dubbed, had recently become the latest fad in the United States of Allanea. Allaneans were flocking to Farmina to assist the Liberals and every trivial piece of low merchandise emblazed with Palmers image, name, or quotes was flying off the shelves. Which is not surprising, thought the Foreign Minister. Allanea has no real culture or national identity. Being an Allanean simply means having loyalty towards vague and supposedly universal ideals of liberty, nothing more. Allanean culture is nothing more then a towering basilisk of Kitsch, a creature that destroys national identity and individual meaning. Individual consumerism run amok! Allaneans are not satisfied by their empty lives so they distract themselves from their misery with the dream of permanent world wide revolution… Of course it is hard to be a revolutionary when you have nothing at home to rebel against in the first place, so the Allanean populace is forced to focus their attention on the “struggle” for their ideals in other nations… It is rather funny really; in the end they are not different from the Communists. One starves in static poverty and dreams of world wide workers revolution while another drowns in affluence and dreams of liberty and markets transforming the world…both dreams leading nowhere but ruin. De Villepin took another sip of his tea, draining the cup.

The Minister’s internal monologue was interrupted by the opening of the bedroom door to his right. It was simply Mélodie, his current mistress. Mistress was for her more then a definition, it was her job description. De Villpen paid for her apartment and each month sent her an allowance. She was young (23), honey blonde with a nice figure, and a good conversationalist, the kind that could make others feel special and loved. Her interests where natural photography, politics (of course), and (for some reason) 19th century conspiracy theories.

“Well, it is time for me to get going”, Mélodie remarked as she smoothed out her auburn cape.

“Oh, about fifteen minutes ago I heard the phone ring twice then stop, did you answer it?”

“Yes.”

“Who was it?” Must not have been important otherwise she would have rushed to inform me.

“It was your wife.”

I was right. “Really, how is the Duchess and did she leave a message?”

“She said she was enjoying herself with Gérard and that everything at Vignerot was fine.”

“Well that’s nice, I’m glad she’s having fun, and the message?”

“She is going to have renovations begin on the eastern garden wall.”

“Good, that wall’s been crumbling for years, it’s about time one of us did something.”

Mélodie walked over and gave de Villepin a passionate parting kiss. She then procedded to walk out the door. “Well I’m off.”

“Have a pleasant train ride.”

Finding himself once again alone the Ministers thoughts once again returned to his paper. He poured himself another cup of tea and added cream and sugar. Those Allaneans are in for a nasty surprise. Palmer is obviously a crook, the Moralists and Liberals are both ideological powerhungry thugs, and there has not been a “revolution”, blackshirts have simply been replaced by blueshirts. The Allanean’s attempts at overnight transformation and liberalization in Farmina will fair just as well as their efforts in Antanjyl. Their actions will only result in violent failure.

Allaneans are stubborn people. When they are attacked, they defend. And even when they cannot carry the assault rifles that are the mark of the citizen in the United States, other weapons are used – hunting rifles and shotguns, fired into the air to scare off the attackers, then transitioning into shots to kill if they persisted – which would not be often, one hoped. Baseball bats. Long-range tasers. Pepper spray. Even chair legs were used against the attackers. But still, the attacks were some times successful. All too successful.

In the morning, three CBBC branches and two Allanean Arms car dealerships had burned down. Countless windows were broken, and three Allaneans were reported to their embassy dead. It was not known whether any of the Farminians – who were the majority employed at the Allanean companies, as the law mandated – were killed, but it was expected.

In the morning papers in Allanea, the pictures bearing the image of the blackened BunnyHead logo shocked the audience. And in the evening papers, there was an unusual response.


HASHI BUDDHISTS DECLARE HUNGER STRIKE

Today, in an unprecedented call for peace in Farmina, Javindendadeq, a Bhikkuni of the Blue Sangha in the state of Hash, and forty-five monks who are also member of the Blue Sangha, have set out on a hunger strike in protest of the political violence in Farmina. Further, twenty femaile Bhikkuni of the same Sangha have joined in the protest.

Among other things, Javindendadeq has said in his press release: “It is unfortunate that certain people do not yet understand the virtue of President Palmer's message of Freedom and turn to the path of violence, but I believe it is not through vengeance that the Light of Liberty is to be spread through the world.”

Tonight, many in Farmina will probably consider taking up Molotov cocktails again for further violence and retaliation. They should consider, once again, the gentle Bhikkuni in the Blue Sangha, that refuse all food and drink only water so they could live in peace. Instead of thinking of more violence, more needless 'revenge', more murder, let them think of Bhikkunu Javindendadeq, who is not willing to murder for anything in the world – but who is willing to suffer, and possibly die, for Peace and Liberty.

Two men were sitting in a bar. In their 60's, they were both old men. Old, rich men. Between them, they owned at least 90 percent of the Northern Colonies media market, and thus, they had a hold load of political power between them. One finished sipping on his martini and turned to face the other man.

"Angus," he began. "So what do you make of this, Farminan situation."

"Well Peter," Angus began. "I see it as a petty fight between two men, who do not respect the ways of democracy."

"I see it as a way to finally have a war, and to help build my coffers, to put it ever so bluntly," said Peter.

"Excuse me," replied Angus. "I do not see the purpose of doing this, nor why you would call me out for this... meeting of sorts."

"Well, it is in my company’s interest, to be able to have some sort of major conflict happen."

"Well, I don't see how your world domination has anything to do with me," said disgustingly. He was about to leave when Peter produced a document.

"Because I need your help and I know I would get it," said Peter sinisterly. "You see, I know for a fact that your business is going down the rocks. So I would put it out straight. I want you to make sure that you change the public perception of the Farminan situation."

"But that's against ethics!" Angus replied, sitting down quickly.

"Well, I didn't say lie, did I," Peter replied. "I merely said to change the perception of. You don't have to tell lies to do that. Just make sure you have the right headlines and shove everything else off. In return, I will offer money to help you keep aflot."

Angus sighed. He knew it was true, that he was approaching bankruptcy. He has no choice.

"Ok," he replied. "You have my word that I will have something horrible about the Farminan situation in tomorrow’s paper."

"Good," Peter replied. "Now go."

Angus stood up and walked way, wondering what he had gottten himself into.

OOC: Sorry can't post tonight; too busy.

“You were right to suspect we might find something in Palmer’s financial records,” said James Sarck, placing down the bundle of documents on the glass table.

Chancellor for Foreign Affairs, Tobias Grey light up a cigarette and placed it between his lips, “Not that we would dare violate confidentiality.”

“Of course not,” said the Lesser Chancellor, recently demoted from Chancellor in Palmer’s reshuffle, “Lord Palmer was very careful not to drag attention to his dealings. In his personal portfolio, he purchased one share less than ten percent of Reaction Corporation, so that he could keep his investment confidential.”

Tobias Grey stretched out his legs, along the floor of his new apartment, before nodding for Sarck to continue.

“We already knew that Lord Palmer owns Palmer Enterprises in its entirety. But what we didn’t know was that Palmer Enterprises owned one share less than ten percent of Reaction Corp; again allowing Palmer, through Palmer Enterprises to dodge the ten percent rule a second time.”

Tobias Grey nodded cautiously, “Using Palmer Enterprises’ incorporation to double his confidentiality quota, clever.”

“Lord Palmer and Palmer Enterprises own shares in a number of companies, mainly members of the Corporate Coalition, which all own shares in Reaction Corporation. Estimates are Lord Palmer owns between twenty five and thirty percent; directly and indirectly,” said Sarck, “The overwhelming remainder is held by the Corporate Coalition members and their business.”

“So how did Reaction Corp survive after the Strikebreaker’s incident?” asked Tobias; suspecting that Palmer was involved with the answer.

“The Corporate Coalition provided Reaction Corp with a huge number of small security contracts. These contracts tended to be held by minor arms of Corporate Coalition members, especially Palmer Enterprises,” said Sarck, “Lord Palmer seemed to go to particular lengths to ensure that the money flowed from the Coalition to Reaction Corporation through his pockets; his pockets being the largest and the safest.”

Tobias nodded, “And gave Palmer more influence, both up and down. If he cut the funding flows; Reaction Corp and the Coalition would have to establish a new funnel before Reaction Corp starved and all the Coalition’s efforts went to waste. Thank you for your effort.”

James Sarck nodded courteously and left, but as he did so, one of Grey’s black-shirt body guards entered, “Something is wrong. Its about Rickhart.”

Tobias Grey had little interest in Rickhart. Rickhart had blocked the revote without a word of explanation or warning. Rickhart had substituted friendship for treachery and Grey would not tolerate. If Rickhart had an apology; Grey would not hear it.

“Well?” snapped Grey, annoyed at being reminded of Rickhart’s bizarre betrayal.

“Well…Lord Chancellor, it appears Dan Rickhart is missing. No one in the black-shirts has seen him for days,” said the black-shirt, “Rumours are hitting the streets and the news; and I don’t reckon they are far wrong. Seem to think that Palmer, Reaction Corp or the Messians have killed him. His housekeeper says he hasn’t been home in two days.”

“Double security,” declared Grey urgently, his voice in a state of near panic, “I fear we are in grave danger. But from who; that is the question.”

"Sir, we have mixed reports from our volunteers. Dan Rickhart may be dead."

Snyder looked up at the soldier. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, sir."

Snyder got up. "Pass on the information to Ackvick. Where is Grey at the moment?"

"We are in the middle of tracking him down. Should we inform you when we find him?"

"Yes, soldier." Snyder replied. "That will be all."

The soldier saluted, and left the room. Snyder thought about Rickhart's possible murder If he was dead, then he could guess Tobias was next. However, he didn't care whether or not he lived or died; he's just another threat to his rule.

--------

Force Commander Lance Kaider recieved the communique from the command plane back at MES headquarters. He read it.

IMPORTANT MESSAGE

DAN RICKHART MAY BE DEAD. REQUESTING INPUT.

Kaider typed in a response:

RE: IMPORTANT MESSAGE

STANDBY FOR FURTHER ORDERS

He then send a coded message to the secret troops inside the industrial zone.

The club came down on the straggler dressed in black. He remembered the club coming down on him, but nothing after that.

“Not often you catch one of them damned black-shirts do you Steve,” noted the blurry figure of a Reaction Corp man.

“Wonder who he is?” said another blurry figure.

“Just a no rank, commoner,” said the first voice, “We never catch anyone with rank.”

The sound of footsteps filled the room, a third person, “You won’t believe this.”

“What did the face scan pick up?” asked the second voice.

“What we’ve suspected for a while,” said the third voice, the blur coming into view.

“Which is?” asked the first voice.

“His name is Nickilo Trandi,” began a voice, “PC Nickilo Trandi. Our rioting black-shirt is a cop!”

“What are we going to tell the President,” said the second voice, Steve, “’The police happen to be rioting.’”

Nickilo had little interest in what they told the bastard Palmer; and within moments again blacked out.

"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Farmina's in trouble and there's no doubt about it!" Cried the Little Boy as the dollars kept rolling in, people obvisiously interested in the story. Peter walked up to the boy, and upon giving a dollar coin, proceded to read the article. His mouth turned into a sinister smile as he continued reading down the article.

"Perfect," Peter sneered quitely, giving an evil 'ha'. "I knew he would do as he was told."

Anarchy Reigns in Farmina as Questionable Election Leads to Victory for the Liberals

A questionable election, in which certain election booths were attacked by unknown terrorists, has led to the victory for James Palmer into the position of President of Farmina. Once considered stronghold of the Moralist Party, the position has now been filled by a member of the Liberal Party, a party that is known in Farmina for its far-left policies on issues such as homosexuality, abortion, and state control over religion. The election of James Palmer into the position of President has already brought a shake up of the cabinet and policies, with Palmer already promising the abolishment of the state religion of Farmina, the Grey Catholic Church. This, along with the shake up of power has already caused tensions within the government as many Moralist party members have lost cabinet positions within the new parliament.

On the streets, the situation is far direr. Riots appear to have followed after the results were announce, a result of certain people questioning the legitimacy of the elections. The Supreme Court of Famina itself also recognised that, “Despite good evidence to suspect that Jamie Palmer would have lost the election, if certain concentrations of ballots were not destroyed, there is no specific constitutional power available to the courts to order a re-vote.” It is rumoured that, many of the rioters have been paid by the two warring parties to help cement its power amongst the people.

The response from the Northern Colonies has been mixed. During Question Time, the opposition leader, John W. Bush took the time to call the government ‘gutless’ for not doing more in regards to the Farminan situation. He also called on the government to recognise that ‘the recent election of Farmina is a sham, that the recent riots involve some sort of milita from both parties to be reminiscent to Hitler and the SS, and that we should call on the Farminan Government to order a recount of the elections or face the consequences,’ to which Alexander Peters, the Minister for Foreign Affairs replied ‘We should, and will not be acting as the World Police. Farmina has had elections before, and I am confident that Farmina and its people will be able to recognise, in due time, the democratic process required, which should hopefully stop these riots and help the transitional government move forward and govern Farmina peacefully and effectively.’ However, recent polls suggest that the majority of Northern Colonists prefer the Government to intervene in some form. The latest Newspoll suggest that at least 84% of Northern Colonists prefer the Government to intervene.

Continued on page 3

“Lord President,” said the President’s head secretary, Gina Grahams, entering his office after a brief knock, “You may want to see this.”

Jamie Palmer looked up from his computer, “Well what is it?”

Gina passed the President a newspaper, “Colonial lies, Lord President.”

Palmer read the cover story in the briefest skim, “Far left on abortion…Abolish the Grey Catholic Church…Rioters have been paid…84% of Colonists prefer the government to intervene. Gina who is responsible for this filth?”

“I can find out for you if you want,” said the secretary, “They don’t even mention that you are actively co-operating with the Moralists and have built a consensual plan for governance.”

“These Colonists,” said Palmer, “They have no interest in truth. The media it plays a game of power and politics, even more than politicians. Send a note to The Colonist, informing them that their article is highly misleading and frequently plain untrue.”

“As you wish Lord President,” said Gina, walking out before promptly re-entering.

“What is it now?” asked the President.

“Reaction Corporation has secured evidence that members of the police force have been rioting,” said the secretary, “They want to know how to proceed.”

Palmer sighed, “Prosecute as though it was anyone else, for now. Make sure names aren’t publicized.”

OOC: It's the Colonial Daily btw

Viper heard a digital ringing tone in his ear, and he held his hand to his ear. Inside his ear was a little communicator that played into his eardrum directly.

"Panther, picking up a message. F.C. Lance reports that we need to recover the target immediately."

Viper started walking to the temporary armory. "Roger, preparing for op." He walked into the room with the large table, and grabbed his silenced Falcon Magnum pistol, then ejected the clip, removed the bullet in the chamber, then inserted a clip full of specially-shaped sedative bullets, that bounce off the target and inject the target with a fast-acting sleeping drug. Most people don't get the chance to scream. He then grabbed a door decoder, a laser sensor, and IR/Night Vision goggles, as well as a lockpic and some other various tools. He then walked out, followed by Tiger.

"Viper, are you doing this alone?" she asked.

"If I go it alone, there's more of a chance that no one will even know what happened. Get Rhino to help me get the target out of the area once I'm clear."

She nodded. "Right away."

--------

Viper approached the backside of the apartment building with Tobias's flat inside. He saw a blackshirt from the window using his IR binoculars on the sixth floor, so he guessed that this was Tobias's floor. He walked over to a maintenance entrance in the back of the building, and using the IR goggles, checked the security. It had an electric sensor on it. He grabbed a magnetic device, and clipped it to the top of the door, and then lockpicked the back door. He felt the lockpit hit the pins, and he opened it slowly. He heard no alarm, thankful that the magnetic device was keeping the alarm off.

He walked in, and headed up the stairs. He walked up to the roof exit, and attached a second magnetic device to the upstairs alarm. He unlocked this door, and walked onto the roof. He moved to the edge of the roof, and attached his scaling rope's mini-winch to the edge. He let himself over, and slowly rapelled himself downwards, missing rooms with lights on by moving from side to side.

Eventually, he made it to the sixth floor, and he looked inside a darkened room. He could see light from the lit room next door, apparently from the same appartment. He grabbed a large metal frame attached to the back of his backpack, and quietly mounted it onto the window. He pulled a circular level in a circle, making a creaking sound that was still quiet, and then pulled it out. A hole in the glass was left, large enough for him to easily enter. He put the frame away, and got himself inside.

Once inside, he could hear quiet chatting from people outside the room. He could hear two, but there could be more. He noted the room he was in was a kitchen. slowly moved up and peaked around at the surroundings. He could see a guard standing by a room, and he could hear talking farther down the hallway. He pulled out his silenced Falcon Magnum, and then pointed it to the neck of the soldier in the hallway. He squeezed the trigger, hearing a light whoosh and a click, and hearing the guard making a little noise, falling to the floor away from the door.

"What's going on, Pete?" another guard said questingly. Viper quickly moved up next to the office, pointing across to shoot the guard as he came out. The guard walked out, and Viper squeezed a second shot into the second guard. He made a whimper as he collapsed, his legs unable to support him. He swung into the office, and saw his target. Before Tobias could even say anything, he fired at Tobias. The old, heavy man slumped in his chair, almost completely unaware of what just transpired in front of him. Viper quickly moved up to him, and hoisted him up from his chair and dragged him to the kitchen. He heard a guard's radio go off, making Viper worry for a moment, but it turned out just to be a call for another guard.

He pulled the sleeping Tobias up to the window, and strapped on his climbing harness to him. He then retracted some of the line using a remote to control the winch, and pulled him outside. He then lowered him down towards the ground.

A man was watching TV when he could see this blackened figure go by his window, and he looked at it suspiciously for a moment before getting up to look.

Viper watched Tobias's sleeping body land on the ground below, and saw Rhino move from another hidden location, and hoisted Tobias onto his shoulders. He then moved back into the bushes. Viper then retracted the line until it reached his floor, where he grabbed it, put it on, then jumped clear and started retracting it.

Upon reaching the top floor and climbing back onto the roof, he quickly removed the fully retracted winch, put it back on his backpack, then moved back to the stairs. He shut the door, removed the magnetic device, then moved back down the stairs. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he exited the building, shut the door, and removed the second magnetic device, and then moved back into the shadows.

The man on the third floor then called the police, not noticing the two foreign men, but shaken up by what he saw go by his window...

Thump. The Reaction Corporation executive gave a curious look around the room. Thump. “Warden, what is that infernal noise?” asked Ryan Asbar.

“The prisoner complained that he had no room to exercise, and when refused to let him out he just started jumping up and down on the spot to keep fit,” explained the warden.

Ryan Asbar walked over to the cell of the prisoner in question and opened the hatch, “I suggest you stop jumping.”

“You can’t hold me here this long,” said the prisoner, “Twenty four hours without charge is the limit.”

“We are not the police,” said the Reaction Corporation executive, “So we don’t play by their rules.”

“Then this is unlawful imprisonment,” said the prisoner.

“Wrong again Mister Rickhart,” said Asbar, “We have a contract signed by the President. That makes the contract, law.”

There was a brief click as the warden opened the cell. Asbar looked over to two guards, “Take him to interview room one.”

The two guards grabbed Rickhart firmly and led him to the interview room. After he was firmly placed in his seat, and tied into position, Asbar entered the room. “Daniel, could you please tell us what happened between you and Commander Donald?”

Rickhart sat silent. Asbar turned his eye to one of the guards. The guard ripped open Rickhart’s white prison shirt before slamming a small rod into Rickhart’s chest; producing a powerful electric shock. Rickhart’s face twisted with pain, then the rod was pulled back. “Daniel, the truth will make this easier.”

Rickhart continued to remain silent. “Lower,” ordered Asbar. The guards proceeded to remove Rickhart’s remaining prison-wear before applying the shock therapy again.

Rickhart bit his teeth firmly together. “Increase the charge,” said Asbar, “Fry his genitals if necessary.”

Rickhart’s face turned red, his bare body changed colour, as he held his teeth together with all his strength.

“Enough,” said Asbar, “Mr Rickhart you now that I can cause you intense, unending pain. I suggest you talk.”

Rickhart felt weak, tired and old, “You should have shot me with bullets and not sedatives.”

“Perhaps Daniel,” said Asbar, before motioning for Rickhart to be given a brief shock to the back of the neck, “Now tell all.”

Rickhart then began to recount the events of the ball, completely falsified, as Asbar scribed them. Though the key event of Commander Donald dying remained in it and Rickhart being at fault; the bulk of Rickhart’s confession was false.

As Asbar put down the final word, he ordered Rickhart, “Sign.”

“No,” said Rickhart weakly, before receiving another powerful shock. He then promptly signed the false confession, to a crime he was in guilty of.

“Thank you,” said Asbar, standing up.

One of the guards opened the door for Asbar, who stepped out before saying back into the interview room, “It appears you have a guest.”

As the three Reaction Corporation men left Rickhart bound and naked, another taller, stronger man entered. The weak Rickhart let out a small sob; but his face was of horror.

“You would have been very handsome once,” observed the President, pausing before adding, “And you would have a made a lady very happy.”

Rickhart tried to speak, but couldn’t bring out the words. His eyes were heavy with tears as he sat helpless, salt water trickling down his cheeks. The President’s gloved hand closed the door securely behind him. Jamie Palmer bared his pristine white teeth in a pleasant smile.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” said Palmer, unbuckling his belt.

Jamie Palmer confirmed the e-mail that his typist had prepared, and promptly sent it.

To Angus , Proprietor of the Colonial Daily

I have become concerned about a recent article in your paper, “[I]Anarchy Reigns in Farmina as Questionable Election Leads to Victory for the Liberals.”

I have noted several inaccuracies and purposefully deceiving facts in your report. Most notably is this passage, which is blatantly wrong, “…a party that is known in Farmina for its far-left policies on issues such as homosexuality, abortion, and state control over religion…abolishment of the state religion of Farmina, the Grey Catholic Church.” None of the aforementioned is the policy of the Presidency.

Furthermore, the opposition rioting, suspected of being supported illegally by foreign governments, is subsiding. The Liberal Block is actively working with the Moralist and other blocks to produce the best outcome for the people of Farmina. Furthermore; if the total ballots destroyed were all Moralist, then this would still not have been a large enough amount.

I request that your paper supply a formal correction and apology; for its previous inaccurate and confrontational story. Legal advice shall be thought if a correction is not made.

Lord James Palmer
President of the Republic
Democratic Republic of Farmina

“If only all the problems were that easy,” muttered the President, as yet another of his long stream of visitors entered, “Take a seat Commission Larington.”

The head of the Farminan police force dare not refuse, “Yes, Lord President. May I enquire as to why you have summoned me, Lord President?”

Palmer did not speak until Larington was firmly positioned in his chair, “The problem is the number of police officers involved in the recent rioting. We have now caught two; who have pointed the finger at a dozen more; and who knows how many they will point out. But on the good news; it seems these riots are finally being stamped out.”

The good news covered tens dead, hundreds injured and millions of Harens in corporate property destroyed; especially that of Reaction Corp and Palmer Enterprises. Still yet the black-shirts seemed not beaten to submission; simply tired into it.

“These may all be facts,” said Larington, “But you needn’t summon me to tell me this.”

Palmer stood up, and took a noble pose, “My dear fellow, we live in a changing world. All things must die in the end; especially those that are ineffective, weak and corrupt. I have changes to law enforcement to announce, and you should be first to hear them. Reaction Corporation proved very effective at controlling the rioters; while the police stood by, unwilling or unable to act, as their own members joined the unlawful revolt. This is the basis of my decision. As of 3 o’clock this afternoon, I have ordered the treasury halt all financial transfers to your department. The Farminan Police Force is to be dissolved.”

“Good Lord,” exclaimed the Commissioner, “Who will enforce…”

He paused realising the stupidity of the question, “How long will the transfer take, before I am out of a job?”

“You stopped being a Commissioner at three o’clock this afternoon,” said Palmer, “The remains of your Department will disassemble itself, under the administration of Reaction Corporation, while the Corporation inserts its own operations. I doubt the two simultaneous processes would take more than a month.”

“That’s because Reaction Corp has been planning this a long time,” thought Larington, “Probably longer than you.”

“How many mouths will not be feed because of this?” declared the Commissioner, in shocked, anger.

“There are other jobs,” said Palmer bluntly, “I was polite enough to inform you of my decision personally, but now I have work to do.”

Larington left silently; but clearly annoyed about the decision to abolish the police force.

Palmer did not watch the man leave; returning his attention to his computer and the work that needed doing.

But his peace was quickly disrupted as Chancellor Longwool burst into the room unannounced, “Lord President, it appears we have misplaced Tobias Grey!”

http://img103.imageshack.us/img103/7264/colonialdaily8ca.jpg

Colonial Publishing Inc.
6 Almond St
Freedom City, Northern Colonies
P.O Box 3187

The White Palace
[Insert Address]
Verica, Farmina
[Insert Postcode]

Dear Lord Palmer,

Thank you for enquiring in regards to the article. It is to the professional belief of the editor that this article written is true and while an investigation is taking place, we will not retract this article nor give out messages to that effect.

Yours Sincerely,
Agnus Smith
Chief Executive Officer
Colonial Publishing Inc.


Agnus used an handkerchief to wipe off the sweat on his face as he was writing the message. He knew a lot of the details were exaggerated, maybe fabricated. But he needed the money desperately. Profits had been going down the last few years, and he needed money to stay afloat.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Outside the Farminan Embassy
(OOC: If you say you dont have an embassy in Northern Colonies, I'll just move this to Government House.)

A massive rally was in progress in Northern Colonies, outside the Farminan embassy. Most of them were students from university, although there were also protestors from various human rights groups, political activists and other humanitarian groups. All were chanting the same word.

"Revote! Revote! Revote!"

The crowd was largely peaceful. Marching through the streets, on the other
hand, only served the anger the motorists, which protestors were blocking sections of roads used to drive into the inner city. Horns were cranking across the city, the first time such noise was heard since the City Roads In Action plan was initiated five years ago. Reported in the news across the city, it was hard trying to ignore the protest.
_______________________________________________________________
Meanwhile...

Inside Government House, a relentless debate was occuring. Alexander Peters, the Minister for Foreign Affairs wiped his face of sweat with the hankerchief, as the opposition leader, John W. Bush launched with another attack on the government, and calling for intervention mission to Farmina.

"We must intervene, Farmina will become the next hotspot for terrorism if we are to continue on this 'we're scared of becoming the world police' path."

The Prime Minister, John Anderson replied, "We... We... Well, we must remmeber ,that although Farmina may seem to be weak, they will unite if we try to have an 'intervention' mission."

After the session was over, Alexander Peters met up with the Prime Minister.

"What are our chances," Peters, asked.

"Not much," came the reply. "He has us in a corner, and the elections are on this year. John's intervention idea has support of the people. I'm afraid I may have to cave in to the opposition leader.

Peters sighed, before the Prime Minister continued.

"I know that your young," the PM started. "And that your a pacifist. You probably never agree to what will happen, so I'm giving you a chance to resign. No hard feelings, no bad memories. But if you don't resign, I need you to support whatever course of action is decided."

Peters gave another sigh.

"I didn't want this to happen," the PM said. "I never wanted ..bloody war, ever. Sorta like you. But one of the things with leadership is that you have to carry the burden that the position carries. You one of the most promising politions I have seen. You could probably make PM someday, but I need you to decide now. Will you support me or will you resign?"

Peters pondered for what seemed like a hour, even though it was only five minutes.

"I'm not going to resign over this, John," replied Peters. "I will support you and the decision of the cabinet.

"Ok, good," replied John. "I need to contact the Joint Chiefs, to formulate a battle plan."

"Ok, see you in session tomorrow," came the reply.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Later that evening

John W. Bush loosened his time as the limousine drove out of government house. Along the way, he ordered the driver to stop at the nearby bar. He walked out of the limousine and went into a bar. He ordered himself a quick drink before sitting down on a table. Moments later, another man brought the exact drink, and upon seeing Bush, sat down next to him.

"Peter McMillan, what a coincidene," said Bush.

"You should be saying thank you," Peter replied. "I just revived your election fortunes."

"Well... Let me ask, how did you do it?" Questioned Bush

"Well... Let's just say I knew Agnus had problems paying the bills," Peter said quickly, before moving on to another topic. "I have one question to ask. Where is my money?"

"Money?" Asked Bush.

"Don't act like a stupid fool, Bush. I'm far, far more powerful then you, and you know that!" Peter said silently. Where is my money?"

"It's being delivered in your back account. Should be able to get it all in by tomorrow morning when the transaction is cleared," came the reply.

"Good," Peter replied. "Now when I need you, I will call you. Now I bid you Good day."

"Good day," Bush replied.

Peter walked out of the bar. Bush sat there, pondering, before he also sat up and headed to his limousine.

A Messian SUV pulled up to the abandoned Factory, and Rhino loaded the unconcious Tobias into the backseat. He locked the doors, and the SUV sped off. Rhino walked back into the building where the others were waiting.

"He's being sent off now," Rhino said.

"Good," Viper said. "Now we wait until the next op, I suppose. When do you think we should move operations?"

"Soon would be good; I'll do some recon for you," Panther interjected.

Viper nodded. "Get to it. We need to keep moving to keep them from tracking us down."

--------

The Messian SUV rolled into the airport, and moved onto the tarmac, where a Messian executive plane was waiting, that landed only moments before. The SUV pulled up to the side of it, and the Messians loaded the sleeping Tobias into the aircraft, while the plane was being refueled. After Tobias was loaded and the plane was refueled, the vehicles moved clear, and the plane taxied then took off.

Tobias woke up strapped to his seat, looking right at Force Commander Chris Kaider, who's seat was facing his.

--------


OOC: Finishing post soon.

“Where am I?” said Tobias to the blurry Messian, “I have a feeling I should know who you are, Mes.”

He vaguely remembered his office being stormed, “I remember being shot. Am I dead?”

---

To Angus Smith
Chief Executive Officer
Colonial Publishing Inc

Due to recent publications by your newspaper my client, President James Palmer, had instructed me to bring against your corporation a lawsuit on the grounds of libel against both his person and his political block. As of this morning we have officially filed the proceedings with the Colonial legal system. President Palmer seeks compensation of five hundred million haren, plus expenses.

Find attached the relevant documents and court fillings.

Barry Whitely
Attorney at Law

OOC: I just realized I forgot to post my response to Amy Ackvick’s murder.

IC: Palmer reread the note, placed in an envelope and taped it firmly to the box.

To Commander Snyder,

Find inside updated Messian uniforms, including one for the rank of Force Commander. Though the update is subtle and minor, they shall make you and your guards stand out, the crimson shall give you an aura of strength.

You must return to MES immediately to take command of the crisis and protect the Force Commanders, the Parliament and the Messians from further harm. Emergency powers and a strong leader may be required. Evidence has been recovered connecting the Shadow to the murder of Amy Ackvick. Find inside an IP address and code to find the evidence. Also find inside weapons stockpile figures relating to Reaction Corporation.

I hope the notes included inside will help with the finesse of protection.

From a friend

“Deliver this to Force Commander Snyder of the Messians,” instructed James Palmer to the courier, “Completely confidential.”

“Yes sir,” said the courier, lifting the large box, with the small envelope onto the trolley.

The young courier then silently rolled away the trolley, before Palmer went to work on an official sympathy note to the Messian people. The usual “so sad…life goes on…never forget…wonderful person”; though Palmer doubted anyone actually cared.

---

To Angus Smith
Chief Executive Officer
Colonial Publishing Inc

Due to recent publications by your newspaper my client, President James Palmer, had instructed me to bring against your corporation a lawsuit on the grounds of libel against both his person and his political block. As of this morning we have officially filed the proceedings with the Colonial legal system. President Palmer seeks compensation of five hundred million haren, plus expenses.

Find attached the relevant documents and court fillings.

Barry Whitely
Attorney at Law
Angus slumped. There was no chance of him ever paying the amount. He knew there was only one option left for him. To find a lawyer. And he know exactly where to get the money from.

"I'm going to go out for a bit. If there are any visitors tell them I'm out and I'll will be back in a few hours."

"Ok," replied Lisa.

Outside the Colonial Publishing offices, he took out the only person who would pay the bills for him.

"Peter, we have a problem," he told Peter.

"What?' Peter replied.

"My company is getting sued. If you don't pay the cost for the lawyer, I'll reveal all about your dirty little secrets," Angus told sternly.

On the other line, Peter knew that this could ruin him as well. He had no choice.

“Ok, meet me at my house in a hour,” Peter replied. “I will have the best lawyers I can pay.”
____________________________________________________________________-
A hour later, in Angus’ house.

Angus, Peter and 4 other men were discussing plans for the court case at hand. The men were not just ordinary men. There were considered some of the best defence lawyers in Northern Colonies. All of them were Senior Counsels, and had published multiple legal books and guides. In only three hours, they had come up with a way to win the case easily.

“We will not go though the County Court,” one of the lawyers said. “We will send the case though the High court, questioning the legitimacy of the case.”

“Ok, Adam,” replied Angus. “And how would this help.”

“Well,” Adam started. “We will use the constitution to prove that the case is not legitimate. The Fifth Amendment says that foreign governments are prohibited from suing companies based on the Northern Colonies. We will also argue that allowing such influences in the justice system will undermine it. You agree to it so far?”

“Whatever,” Angus said; sipping on a glass of whiskey he had made for himself. “Just get me out of trouble.”

The final touches went throughout the night, but by the morning, the application to move the case to the Hight Court had been received. Adam promptly mailed to Barry Whitely.

To: Barry Whitely
RE: Court Case

Please be aware that we have filed proceding moving the case up to the High Court of the Northern Colonies in regards to the legitmacy of the case at hand. Please view all the of relevant document attached to this letter.

Your Sincerely,
Adam Cabot MNC SC
Barrister and Solicitor
Cabot & Associates

To Angus Smith
Chief Executive Officer
Colonial Publishing Inc

We have read reviewed the basis for your appeal against the cases’ legitimacy. It has been decided to continue with the current course of action. It is our professional decision that we can win this case, regardless of your legal argument, and shall be continuing with the legal action.

Barry Whitely
Attorney at Law

"Far from it. If anything, we saved you from certain death," the Force Commander said.

"It was a Messian who stormed my office then?" trying to put together the clues, while still only half concious.

"Just one," Kaider said. "We did it for your safety, and don't worry, your guards will be fine. They were only sedated."

"And why have you kidnapped me?" asked Grey.

"Because President Palmer overstepped his bounds. Chancellor Rickhart personally requested it of us."

"Was that before or after you killed him?" asked Grey angrily.

"I can personally tell you that it wasn't us that killed him. From our reports, it was Reaction Corp men."

"I know of the hostility between the Messians and Dan," said Tobias, "So don't tell me of vague reports."

"By request, we have volunteers joining the resistance. That's where we got our intelligence."

"We all know how quickly rumours, the truth and propoganda get confused in vigilantee organisations," observed Tobias; clearly cautious about his Messian kidnapper.

"That may be true, but the fact still stands, Dan asked James Ackvick when he told you to leave the room, to bring you out of the country when President Palmer overstepped his bounds. And he has, and Dan feared for your life."

"I question the validity of anything Dan said," added Tobias, changing his arguement, "After he voted against a re-vote he must be considered dangerous and hostile to the Moralist cause."

"Whatever the case may be, he asked for this, and personally, I can't trust Palmer, especially after transfering policing power to his own personal security force company."

Tobias remained silent; there was truth in the danger of Reaction Corp; not after its past association with Emperor Justinian.

"And I assume, and assumed when Ackvick gave the order to extract you, that he would use them to assasinate you. I'm concerned as a whole though, of your nation becoming a consumerist police state."

Tobias continued to remain silent; there was limited truth in the foriegner's words; consumerism was certainly something Palmer was encouraging; even if Tobias didn't believe Palmer would risk killing him.

"Although some of this is speculation, all that I have said is all the truth and educated speculation. I have no idea what Palmer has planned in the end, but I know that it all has to do with power."

"Perhaps it has nothing to do with Palmer at all," said Tobias suggestively; not entirely sure what 'it' was.

"Perhaps. And unless you help us, we'll be still going through this with blinders on."

"I promise to take you back to your homeland once Palmer is out of power."

"I'd have prefered you had left me there to begin with," said Tobias.

"And if you died, then what? Your nation would have no leader that it nationally recognises, and your democracy would fall apart."

"If," cautioned Tobias Grey, "I had a role in governance."

"And you know very well that it was Palmer that rigged the election, causing your loss. You damn right know something's up, and we're here to make sure that this something will be stopped before it even starts."

"So if you want our help, just ask us and we'll do what we can."

"I want everything back the way it was," said Tobias Grey, "Before the Messians ever came to Farmina."

"If that is what you want, you will get it," Kaider said. "You will get your power back, and we'll pull out completely." He paused. "I'm curious to wonder if Elaine's death was a part of that statement?"

Tobias remained silent for a moment, "I wish this life hadn't been burdened on me."

"How long ago has it been since she died?"

"Three months now," recalled Tobias, somberly.

"Hmm...I wonder," Kaider said. "We've been making leaps and strides with our medical research. Because we don't have a religious focus in our country, we aren't hindered in our controvercial medical leaps and bounds." Kaider paused, shifting in his seat slightly. "We have stem cell surgery now, to repair nerves and stems, and we are also cloning parts of humans to repair and replace organs." He looked out the window, then looked back again. "But that brings me to my curious point. There has been talks about putting a dead person's brain into a cloned body of themselves, minus a brain, to literally bring them back to life."

"You cannot just make people undead," said Tobias Grey, in shocked horror.

"It's not really bringing them back from the dead. It's more like putting the person's mind into a new body. Their old body is of course dead. But a cloned, new body could host the dead person's brain, to give them a second chance in life. And as it's cloned, the chances of rejection is very low. So we could bring things back to the way they were to this extent, if you wish."

"What was left of her head has been decaying for three months," said the former president, feeling very ill.

"That's why I'm wondering wether or not it's too late. But we could never find out unless we checked out the brain."

"YOU TWISTED BASTARD," yelled Grey.

Kaider jumped in surprise. "Alright, that's fine, I admit it it's creepy," Kaider said. "I only offered it because you wanted things back to the way they were, and I wanted to see if you want the chance. If you don't, that's understandable as well. Like I said, it's very contravercial." Tobias Grey continued in angry silence.

"I'm sorry for shocking you Tobias," Kaider said appoligetically. "I should have known you would react that way, especially considering that your nation would never condone the practice."

"You must thing I'm a monster now, and that is your right. But not everyone wants to die, and we are just trying to help those who brains were not damaged to continue their lives from where they were, and I thought...considering how much you cared for Elaine, that you would want her back."

"R.I.P. Rest In Peace," said Tobias quietly, "She is in a better a place."

Kaider sighed. "She probably is. I understand."

"Now, onto more important things, how do you want to go around with unseating Palmer from his illegitimate presidency?"

"Wait for the next election," said Grey sternly.

"And what if he completely disbands democracy? It's definitely a possibility. He's already turning the nation into a Police state, and under the wrong hands that could get very ugly, very fast."

"Revolution," said Tobias Grey.

"But why get to that point?" Kaider said. "If we stop it now, we can prevent the loss of many lives on both sides."

"You seem to assume everything is going to go wrong," said Tobias, "That is a strong assumption to make."

"From what Rickhart has told us, things have been getting ugly, and he has been accurate on a lot of his points."

"However, you were right about trusting Rickhart in a sense; he's caused plenty of problems for your nation in his attempt to save Farmina."

"Is there anything you wish to ask me?"

"No"

"Then I will leave you to yourself. You may watch the onboard movie, and get a drink or snack if you wish. You're also free to move around." With that Kaider got up, and moved into another section of the slim-bodied airplane.

--------

Force Commander Snyder picked up the phone, and typed in an encryption code into the line. Then he dialed into Palmer's office. Palmer's secratary picked up the reciever and answered, "President Palmer's office. How may I help you?"

"Hello. Please connect me to the President's office. Tell him it's Force Commander Snyder." There was a short silence, followed by "Right away, Lord Commander."

Then came the soft voice of Palmer, though seemingly annoyed, "What is it Commander Snyder?"

"I recieved your letter, thank you for your support and condolences," Snyder said, saying it in the way that to anyone listening in would sound like a insignificant message.

"I'm glad," said Palmer, "I thought my notes were comprehensive."

"They were very clear. I hope to work with you for a long time. Just remember what I said."

Snyder then hung up the phone. He got up from his desk, and walked out onto the tarmac, where his personal twin-seater jet was waiting. He disliked not being in control of things, and that included flying. He opened up a compartment door on the outside, and put inside the uniforms he recieved and studied earlier. He liked that the man had good taste. He wondered if it had to do with his very unusual homosexual tendencies.

After packing the uniforms into the airplane, he opened the side door of the aircraft, and climbed in. He flipped some controls to start the engine, as the side door slid closed. A quiet alarm went off as he heard the electric jet engines spun up, and the plane started to move forward. He taxied onto the runway, and lined up.

"This is Messian Air Command Snyder to air traffic control. Requesting takeoff clearance." All aircraft that Force Commander were on board of were called Air Force Command, the name of the person on board on the end of the name. After a pause, he heard the control tower's response. "Messian Air Command 7, you are cleared for takeoff."

He pushed the levers forward, accerating the two electric jets, and pushing the small aircraft into the air. After attaining eight thousand feet, he flipped a switch, activating the pulse-detonation engine mounted behind him. He heard the fairly loud banging of the explosions behind him as his plane accelerated towards the homeland.

--------
24 Hours Later...

"How long has he been like this?" Kaider said to Dasch, looking inside the psychiatric ward.

"About two days. He's still in critical shock from what happened to Amy. He's in here because he was endangering her life by getting in the doctor's way," Dasch said. He could see James Ackvick rocking on his bed, occasionally glancing at them. He then stopped and looked at them with a stare, a stare of utter dispair. Dasch then unlocked the door, then walked in and sat down beside him.

"Hey Jimmy boy," Dasch said. "Are you doing okay man?" Kaider sat down on the other side of Ackvick. Ackvick just stared towards the wall.

"How could have I been so blind?" Ackvick said sadly. "The Admiral's murder should have been a warning about what's happening..." He looked towards the ground.

"I would have never known that this would have transpired, and I'm working on making this right," Dasch said. "I'll make sure that the murderer will pay for his crimes appropreately!"

Ackvick looked up at the wall, then back down. In the dim light, he could still see the dried blood on his clothes and body. There was so much of it, Amy's life on him. He felt a tear run down his face, then he turned to rage. He stormed up, and kicked the wall. "You're damn right he'll pay for this! That bastard took away what was so damn important to me! He wants to fuck with me? I'll fucking mess him up back!"

He then stormed out of the room, a concerned Dasch and Kaider following close behind. "Jimmy, you're not permitted to leave yet! And your mental condition...!"

"My mental condition is fine!" Ackvick yelled back in rage. Dasch then grabbed Ackvick, getting a kneejerk reaction of Ackvick throwing a fist at Dasch. The fist got Dasch off guard, hitting him in the face. Dasch fell onto his back, as Kaider grabbed Ackvick, and forced him into the ground. "Security!" Kaider yelled as Ackvick struggled against the well-built Kaider, yelling profanities.

--------

Dasch exited the elevator inside the Messian command building, nose bandaged and somewhat bloodied, and walked into a waiting briefing room with the remaining five Force Commanders. Snyder looked at Dasch.

"How is James?" Snyder said. "Last I heard he was in terrible shape."

"He is, if you've noticed my broken nose," Dasch said admittedly. "For a while, he won't be able to perform his duties. That means we're down to five."

Snyder nodded. "Five. And without either of the Ackvicks, we need someone to take back over Ackvick's influencial role as lead of our group, especially during this turmoilous time."

Kaider nodded. "Agreed. We need to decide on who is the best for this choice."

"We need someone that is not afraid to speak up," Force Commander Lance Foster said to the group. "We need someone with strong leadership skills."

"Well..." Snyder said. "Myself included, who would like to take this role as lead of council?"

Dasch and Chris Kaider raised their hands.

"Three," Snyder said. "Vote once, and don't vote for yourself. Raise hands for Kaider,"

Dasch raised his hand. "One. Raise hands for Dasch." Snyder raised his hand, with Kaider. "Two."

Dasch then looked into Snyder's eyes. He had the look of discomfort. "Raise hands for Snyder." Vance and Foster raised their hands.

"We have a tie then," Snyder said. "Me or Dasch."

"To be frank, Dasch, I'd vote for you but you yourself are not even supposed to be working right now, and considering the Farminan incident, I don't think you'd be a good choice right now," Foster said.

Dasch thought for a moment. He saw something in Snyder that he suspected, but he couldn't imagine a Force Commander being up to something. With the protocols, such a thing would be impossible. "Alright, I withdrawl from the vote. Snyder, you will take leadership," Dasch said reluctantly.

Snyder grinned. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, especially after such a short time as a Force Commander," Snyder said. "We should talk about the murders. I heard rumors that it was actually the Shadow that murdered Amy. Is there any truth to it?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Dasch said. "Our best investigators are on the case. In fact, I'm overseeing it personally."

Snyder felt a knot in his stomach. "Is it necessary to be involved with the MESPS?" he asked.

"Of course. I owe both Ackvicks that much."

Snyder paused. "Very good," he said. "I suppose we can dismiss until eight-hundred hours." All the Force Commanders got up, and moved out of the room. Snyder stopped Dasch as he moved to walk out.

"Commander, it's been a pleasure to work with you since I've started," Snyder said, smiling and shaking his hand. Dasch nodded, fake smiled, and shook back. As Snyder walked away, Dasch wondered what the hell was up.

“This is unacceptable,” declared the Shadow, “How dare Palmer make demands of us?”

“Lord Palmer is getting to big for his boots; we should remove him,” advised the HateSpeaker, leader of the Cultists.

“No,” said the Puppeteer.

“No?” asked the Firestorm, “Threats should be put out.”

“No means no, General,” said the Puppeteer firmly, “This is as I have seen it. Lord Palmer is still vital to my plans. He currently has something of great value in his grasp, something that creates a nexus, a place where the future blurs. Lord Palmer must not come to harm.”

“And of his demands?” asked the Shadow.

“Fulfill them Charles,” said the Puppeteer, “Let Lord Palmer have his way. Let him be confident in our faith. But we must not inform anyone. Snyder must be truly shocked when the attack occurs.”

Then the screens surrounding the Puppeteer flashed off; one by one; as his agents returned to their tasks.

---

A warm morning in MES as the cement truck turned towards the security gate. The Messian Central Command Complex was a massive structure and the addition that was being built was just as worthy. Peter nodded pleasantly as the one of the guards recognized him and waved him through.

Private corporations rarely received government contracts in MES; but the low construction bids by Dow-Sha Construction on the MCCC and the hydrogen refinery were practically unbeatable.

As Peter turned his vehicle, he observed the tens of trucks packed with building materials on this side of the building alone. So much construction had already been done. Too bad it was about to all fall down.

Dow-Sha Construction, a simple anagram that would give the Messians a clear image of who attacked them. Dow-Sha’s symbol looked like a blue waterfall, but when rotated 180 degrees and changed to orange, then suddenly it looked like the symbol belonging to the anagram.

The worst truth the Messians would face was that Peter himself was a Messian. The Word of the Shadow had rung out to many Messians, like Peter. The era of the Force Commanders was coming to an end. Not all the conspirators were agents of the Shadow. Peter had seen one man let the triunate hung from his neck accidentally slip. “Cultist scum,” thought Peter; deviant teachings that Justinian was more than mere mortal.

For weeks the new addition had been built up; the cement carefully mixed with explosives. The bricks had been packed explosives and metal shards for extra; shredding impact. The thick concrete floor itself was enough to blow many buildings sky high. But this was no ordinary building…

Peter parked his vehicle, just in position. His load of cement, actually explosive. Any moment, now the Messians would be getting very worried. Dow-Sha vehicles seemed to have spaced themselves out around the complex.

“Move this vehicle immediately,” cried a panicked voice.

The autoguns could suddenly be heard repeating a desperate, vengeful toll. And the desperation was justified. Within five seconds, hundreds of charges simultaneously detonated.

The hydrogen plant was so kind as to even provide its own explosives…

The orange semi-circle with two lines transmitted across the world. The digitized voice spoke again, “The attack on the Ackvick’s was my warning. The abominable hybrid that is the Messian system must fall. One cannot protect and rule. The soldiers cannot be the kings.

But this warning was ignored and another soldier, one named Snyder now sits on the throne of MES. Now those loyal have struck. Those who have seen the truth will not tolerate military tyranny. As I have written in the Book of the Shadow, “The only rule is the rule of knowledge.” But instead we see the rule of glory. I, The Shadow, and all my followers, launch a crusade, a holy war against Force Commander Snyder, and the Force Commanders generally. Messian people, join us in this great war. I have plunged two knives into the heart of the establishment. Now it is time to tear down the whole, rotten structure; force commanders and all.

I am the Shadow. My word is death.”

Now to all Palmer had to do was wait for the Messians to gather around Snyder and demand major action.

Dasch gets knocked off his feet as the massive structure shook violently from the blast. He yelled as he fell onto his body. "What in the fucking world is that?!" he yelled to no one in particular. He quickly got up, and pulled out his Falcon Magnum. Debris was everywhere, the lights were flickering, and a red alert klaxxon with flashing red lights filled the room. He looked behind him, down the hallway, and saw daylight. He couldn't figure out immediately what it was, until it clicked that a massive part of the building had collapsed.

He saw Alana rush up to him.

"Are you okay?" Alana said quickly.

"I'm fine," Dasch replied. He then moved quickly to a desk beside him, and spoke into a loudspeaker. "All personnel, commence evacuation procedures immediately! Move all wounded out of the building immediately!"

He then turned to Alana. "That includes us. We better find the rest of our group and move out of here."

They headed towards the stairway, where Chris Kaider was waiting. "Dasch, a massive bomb just took out a third of the structure! And I have some troubling news..."

Dasch looked at Kaider. "Julie Vance was inside the section hit by the blast when it went off. I have not been able to contact her since the blast!"

Dasch's gut turned. Another Force Commander, dead? This was getting to be very ugly. "We got to get out of here!" Dasch yelled. He could hear a bit of rumbling as another section collapsed from the blast damage. They kept going down and down the 60 floors from the command floor, until they reached the main floor. Messian soldiers were standing by the front door, with all automated defenses online, unfolded out of the ground. Another soldier rushed up to the Force Commanders.

"Sir, we need to move the three of you into the underground passage out of harms way," he said.

"Have you heard from Lance Foster and Snyder yet?" Dasch said as they were lead to the downstairs passage.

"Yes. Snyder was having lunch across the street, and Foster was found injured near the place of the collapse. He's unconscious but alive."

Dasch gave a sigh of both relief and stress. "Good. Let's get moving."

--------

"Well...that confirms it," Dasch said grimly as he hung up the phone. "Julie's dead."

The other Force Commanders looked solumnly around inside the concrete room inside the underground command center. "We're dying off so quickly, and we can't seem to figure out who the hell did it."

Snyder slammed his fist into the table, and stood up. He leaned onto the table. "We need to act now, before another one of us dies, before this nation breaks into anarchy."

Dasch looked up at Snyder. "What are you thinking?"

"I think we need to take our nation into martial law. Right now it is too dangerous. From our reports, a few of the attackers were Messians, and the Shadow is involved. I think if we lock down this country, we can locate the terrorists much easier."

Dasch looked at the other Force Commanders, then looked back at him. "But that will bring us back to where we were just after the big war 80 years ago!"

"But look at us!" Snyder said sternly. "You can see two other Force Commanders in this room. Two are dead, one's gone crazy, and the other's unconscious. And you Dasch are recovering from physical and emotional trauma. We barely even have a government right now and I'll be damned if we'd let this nation fall apart."

Dasch nodded, somberly. He was right. But something didn't feel right. "You're right," Dasch said.

Kaider looked at Snyder. "Then what else should we do?"

"We also need to temporarely take down the new democratic section until our nation has stablised," Snyder said.

Dasch felt another knot form in his stomach. "That almost sounds like what we DID have 80 years ago!" Dasch said in shock.

"Desperate times ask for desperate measures Dasch. Our nation is on the verge of falling out of control, and unless we do desperate measures, everything we have fought for during the past century will have been in vain!"

Dasch sighed. "Alright, we need to vote."

Snyder nodded. "Raise hands for affirmative action as previously described."

Kaider raised his hand. Dasch looked at Snyder. The two men looked at Dasch. Dasch then slowly raised his hand.

"We have affirmative action," Snyder said. And so it begins... Snyder thought.

Snyder looked at the camera inside the interview room of the underground bunker. "Today I must regretfully inform that Force Commander Julie Vance was killed in the unprovoked terrorist attack by the terrorist organization known as the Shadow, when they attacked the Complex."

"As you all know as being proud Messians, that we do not take such action against our citizens lightly. Since the Shadow wanted to attack us, I will personally guarantee that the Shadow will pay dearly for thier crimes!"

"This desperate times call for desperate measures. Messians were involved in the terrorist attacks, and because of it, we must temporarely institute martial law, to track down and destroy the Shadow in this country!"

"We must also in this time of war to remove the power of the democratic section of our government temporarely until this is resolved. We need fast and clear decisions in the time ahead, as the terrorists move fast."

"A special police task force will be working on national terrorism, and they will secure our nation from these perpretrators! We will also send out our fleets and military to known Shadow hideouts, and to find out new ones. We must destroy this villanous terrorist organization that plagues both our nation, and the nation of Farmina!"

"Finally, I will say this. Our nation will never be the same again. Our trust in the world has been shattered. It is time to change for changing times. We must unite under our banner, and crush all who oppose freedom and humanity!"

--------

Snyder typed into the console. Things were going exactly to plan. Two more Force Commanders, and he could immediately take full control of the nation. After ordering multiple transfers, he was able to get Task Force 2 completely under his control. He had copies made of the new uniforms designed by Palmer, and given to his loyal men. His new police force would help snuff out any resistance from the other Force Commanders. Everything was exactly as he planned, and all the pieces in the puzzle were all in except two.

Palmer and Dasch.

He knew that Palmer would be a danger if he kept him alive. As soon as the oportunity arose, perhaps the next meeting, he would eliminate him. Using the gun he got through his sources, he could easily tie the murder of the disgusting sodomist to the Shadow. He would have to go before he revealed any parts of his plan. He also didn't want Palmer to be a part of his unified nation. When he took the planet, he would rule it by himself, and only let his most trusted, and conditioned aquaintences to take over for him when he died.

And Dasch...that man. He was clever. He could almost see through his plans. The only thing was that his pride of the title Force Commander kept him from seeing the truth. He has to go before he finds out, or the title gets out of his head.

And that despicable title Force Commander. How silly is that? And having seven people choosing what and who does what and when? They don't have the right! They were incompetant. Most of them at least. Ackvick and Donald were honourable men. It was unfortunate they were out of the picture now. They were good men, even though they would have to be eliminated anyways.

Snyder looked outside the cracked window of his office inside the MCCC. The room was in disarray from the blast. They found that the side of the building, irronically the part with the office, was still structurally sound, and that the building could be rebuilt. The building was a costly pawn in his goal for seizing power, but in the end, metal and plastic, and some human lives are more than a worthy sacrifise for saving humanity from certain doom.

With a shaking hand, Dan Rickhart wiped the sludge Reaction Corp dared to called food off the floor, before marking a short line on his cell wall. Every line represented another day passed in this cruel existence; another day passing until the endgame.

Rickhart’s cell was cold, small and dark. It stunk of sweat and death and time. The walls were so close. Nowhere to go; nowhere to run.

“…And of the singing birds and playing bears…” Rickhart sang quietly in his deep voice, but with haunting tone.

He huddled into a small naked ball, shivering both from cold and from fear. His teeth chattered as he sung reassuring words. Dried blood crusted his face and his back, where Palmer scratched furiously with his claws. Teeth bits, tears, on his worn neck; his red evidence shaking body. His neck bore more wounds; marked out by teeth. Rickhart had not been given water to wash in and the little he received was too precious to waste. His bones were now clearly visible through his skin. It was cold, so cold. What was left of Rickhart’s clothes had been confiscated two days previous, after he was accused of singing too loud.

Pain, never ending pain. Rickhart could feel where Palmer had been, night after night; moving back and forward; tearing with vicious force. He had foreseen this and allowed it to happen. He had foreseen his own, brutal and repeated rapes; yet continued. How could any man allow that to happen to himself. But Rickhart continued to sing cheerful quiet tunes; remembering Plato’s Republic and his own future.

Rickhart rubbed his chest; his ribs protruded now more than ever. Rickhart could feel he was dying; his stable mind was failing. “I will not live to see out my plan,” thought Rickhart.

Such a thing could not come to pass. He had to live. He had to buy himself more time. He had to rebuild his mind and his body; before the final day. Before those on the outside completed his plan.

Rickhart gave a bang on his cell door; a demanding effort that produced little noise. The small hatch in the cell door opened; followed by a ball of spit. “What you want scum?” asked the guard.

Dan felt nothing but contempt for rude, stupid oaf; but even the oaf would comprehend Rickhart’s final, desperate card. Rickhart spoke in a deep, dry and ultimately worn tone, “I know who killed Kerria Sirade. And I have proof.”

Throughout Farmina – in the car dealerships, the politicial action of headquartes, and the Reaction Corps headquarters – Allanean volunteers began to comprehend something was getting horribly wrong. It seemed that President Palmer has abolished his main liberal policies “on issues such as homosexuality, abortion, and state control over religion…abolishment of the state religion of Farmina, the Grey Catholic Church.” Many grew disenchanted with the Palmer policies – but not with the ideas that he represented.

The Allaneans – and any Farminans they could convince – prepared for the last fight. Protests were planned, leaflets were distributed, and in some places, Moralist offices attacked. It was not likely to bear good fruit, but the Allaneans tried their level best anyhow.

John Anderson walked into the war room. Awaiting him was the military leaders of the Northern Colonies. On the far side of the room sat Jonathan O'Brien, Surpeme Governor of the Colonies, and Commander-in-Chief of the Colonial Armed Forces. On the right of him, was Admiral of the Fleet Patrick Robinson, Chief of the Colonial Armed Forces Staff . At 85, he was easily the oldest man in the room. No one dared retired him, as he was extremely popular, and his words were always heeded. To his right was General Alex Ronstein, Chief of the Colonial Army. To some considered a war-monger, he was still well-like, and posed to take the Chief of CAF staff after Robinson. On the opposite side were the Chiefs of the Navy and the Air Force, Admiral George Baker and Air Chief Marshall Alex Tyler. Both recently promoted from the ranks, they did not wield the same power as the two senior men. Next to the Air Force Chief was the National Security Advisor, Major General Peter Anderson (not related to Patrick Robinson). Opposite him was the Defence Minister, George Alba. John Anderson then took a seat, opposite to the SGC.

“Apologies for the lateness, Traffic,” he said.

“That’s ok,” replied the SGC.

“So, what’s the plan,” the PM asked.

The Chief of the CAF staff sat up and walked towards the projector sheet.

“This is a map of Farmina,” he started off. “It kind looks like a square. The majority of people live towards the south or eastern parts. This entails to me that we need to land on the south. Now, Farmina has a large population then us, even if slightly. But we have a major advantage. We are a liberal democracy. Farmina’s democracy sounds suss. They have dissidents. We need to ensure that the country remains that way. Otherwise, this operation will be a failure. How I propose to do this? Well, we need to make propaganda leaflets and have them floating around Farmina. Two leaflets, one giving complete lies against Parmer. The other will have information accusing Grey of being gay or something like that. If the leaflets prove to be successful, we will move to stage 2. Stage 2 consists of adding fuel to the fire. We will need to move quickly, and distribute, The Shadow's Modern History of Farmina. Sneak it in quickly. After that, Farmina should be in some sort of anar...”

“Aren’t you a tad ambitious?” The PM Questioned. “I don’t see that as pausible.”

“Well,” Patrick began. “Stage 2 would be the most difficult one. Stage 1 will be made easier. We could probably send it through the current underground gangs. That would probably be the best way. We should also seek the assistance of the Messian forces in the area. All we need is your go-ahead.”

“Right, well... I think we should wait for a few days. I don’t think rushing would be a good reason to do this, and potentially kill off any relations with Farmina. I will have a talk with the MES leader,” the PM said.

“You’re the boss,” replied the aging voice of the Admiral of the Fleet. “Now, onto the Lesser Land conflict…”

________________________________________________________________________

Adam adjusted his wig and court dress as he went into the High Court building. Following him were his three other lawyers, and Angus. They walked slowly into the chambers, sat down quietly, and upon eyeing Barry, began whispering to each other about the case.

“Ok, I got the info here,” said Adam.

“Court case should start in a few minutes,” Angus replied. “All set up?”
“Yeah,” he replied.

Just then, the doors opened and the three judges walked out in there red robes and long wigs.

“All rise!”

Everyone stood up as the judges took there seats.

“You may sit,” one of the judges said.

Everyone sat, as one of the judges began reading the case.

“The case, The Liberal Party of Farmina verses Colonial Publishing Inc is now in session. This case has been referred to the High Court of the Northern Colonies to test its legality. The Liberal Party is being represented by Mr. Barry Whitely, Colonial Publishing is been represented by Mr Adam Cabot, et. al. I would now like the plaintiff to state his case in law.”

Adam stood up and began to talk.

“Thank you, Your Worship,” Adam began. “We are here to argue over whether this case is fit to stand trial in this country. The Fifth Amendment, approved by referendum says, in clear detail, that Foreign Governments can not sue corporations based in this country. To quote it exactly, ‘Foreign Governments, can not, in any way interfere with parliamentary, or judicial acts in the Northern Colonies, or any of her Colonies.’ Now, sitting on the table next to me, is a man representing a foreign government, in power. Now I ask, should this man, who is representing a leader of a government be aloud to sue a company in this country, when it is illegal as stated in the Fifth Amendment. Can we allow foreign governments to interfere with our judicial system, especially those governments which don’t allow courts in there own countries? If we allow this, you will set a horrible precedent that will ruin this county. This is why I ask, you dismiss this case. Thank you.”

Adam took a seat. The judges sat there for awhile, pondering. The judge then said

“I would now like the defendant to state his case in law.”

To Directors of the Liberty Alliance

We would be most appreciative if you could supply two hundred thousand appropriate men to don the Reaction Corporation uniform. Once such a force is prepared, we require it to be sent to the Militia Enforced State to help preserve order, and take over the personal custody and protection of Force Commander Snyder in the name of Reaction Corporation, with the utmost discretion.

We hope you will be willing and able in this task.

Roger Hanshuck
CEO of Reaction Corporation
Member of the Corporate Coalition

Black-shirts being one of the few groups allowed to bare arms in Farmina, could frequently be heard taking potshots at foolish Allaneans.

---

Barry Whitely stood up, as chief barrister for Mr Palmer and the Liberal Block; though he was aided by a team of Colonial lawyers. “Your honour,” began Mr Whitely, with all the ceremony needed for the occasion, “The duty of this court is to preserve the rule of law. The rule of law; that is the equal exercise of justice, that each person is equally entitled to protection from harm and each perpetrator equally obliged to punishment. In this case, Colonial Publishing Inc, has brought harm, in the form of libel, upon my clients; how have every right to justice and the protection of the rule of law. This is not intervention, but the proper pursuit of justice as required by any reasonable constitution and court. To intervene would be for the prescription of judgments, regardless of the evidence; regardless of whether or not crime has been committed; it is the purpose of Article 5 to prevent this, clearly stated. It is no purpose of a constitution; and it is not the purpose of Article 5, for courts to fail to act on matters of law, simply due to the existence of political entities. Colonial Publishing Inc has reversed the correct intent of Article 5; and this sets a dangerous precedent it political entities are banned protection under the law.”

“I also put it before the court that Mr James Palmer and the Liberal Block; do not compose a foreign government and hence Article 5 is completely irrelevant. Mr James Palmer has always been; and does not cease to be, a private individual. Nor is the Liberal Block as the whole, the government of Farmina. A government is the entire political unit. It is clear that in law, Colonial Publishing Inc is not being sued by a government as required by Article 5; even if the James Palmer and to a limited extent the Liberal Block have a role in government. And let us be absolutely clear, there is a difference between being part of a government and being a government; and there are also differences between individuals’ and blocks’ activities as private entities and activities as government members.”

“That is the position of my clients.”

Mr Whitely promptly sat down.

“Its too great a risk,” warned the forensic psychologist, Dr Steinbeck, “We should have killed him when we first had the chance.”

“Dan Rickhart has information invaluable to us,” responded Reaction Corporation executive, Ryan Asbar, “And knowledge is power.”

“Dan Rickhart is very dangerous. Not even Tobias Grey was prepared to give the man the legitimacy of a lordship,” cautioned Dr Steinbeck, “His body is tired and worn. His mind is breaking under the torment Palmer regularly delivers to him; yet he is always watching, always listening. He does not sleep sir; he just watches and listens. I fear he is biding his time; as though something is going to happen. It is almost as though he wants to be here…”

“Nonsense,” declared Ryan Asbar with great pompous, then a cautious pause, “I agree that Dan Rickhart is dangerous; but not here. Here he is not a threat. Here he is our weapon against the powers that be.”

By the powers that be, Ryan Asbar meant Jamie Palmer, the dark figure of the Puppeteer that loomed over Farminan politics, not to mention those infernal Messians.

“I think we should slit his throat,” warned the psychologist, “He could well be planning to set the president against us. Or bring down the wrath of the Shadow down on us. I can’t emphasize enough how deeply ruthless Rickhart is.”

“You have had your say,” noted Asbar, pushing open the interview room door, “Daniel, you are looking better.”

Dan Rickhart’s eyes watched the two men with the intensity Asbar had warned of. Rickhart retorted, “Being feed a good meal goes along way.”

He now had fresh prison white clothing and had two warm meals, and more drinking water. He had hidden portions of the food, just in case Reaction Corp decided to try and starve him again. Rickhart hadn’t been given a bath or a shower; but he wasn’t complaining; it was the Reaction Corp men that had to deal with the smell. Nutrition helped Rickhart revitalize; he could feel a little of his physical strength regained; but it was mental power that mattered now.

“We expect you to deliver on your promise,” said Asbar.

“I made no promises,” noted Rickhart.

Dr Steinbeck glared at the mildly revitalized Rickhart; dangerous, definitely dangerous. Rickhart turned his head to Steinbeck and glared back at him; through Steinbeck’s eyes, into his soul. Steinbeck could feel Rickhart thinking, warning him with those ruthless, intelligent eyes, saying without words, “I can see straight through you. You know I am dangerous, yet you can do nothing. You fear your superiors, you fear Palmer and you fear the foreigners; they are all dangers and hold them at bay. And you should fear; I am coming for you.”

Dr Steinbeck looked away; those eyes, he couldn’t stand those eyes. “Doctor, are you unwell?” asked Rickhart, trying to annoy the short psychologist.

However, Asbar interrupted, “Daniel, please tell us what we need to know.”

Rickhart remained silent; his face as stern as rock; twitching momentarily as a Reaction Corp guard applied an electric shock to the back of the neck.

“That trick is getting old,” warned Rickhart, clearly pained by the shock, “Let me show you one of mine.”

Rickhart then closed his eyes and began to show signs of intense concentration. “I don’t like this,” warned the ever cautious Doctor Steinbeck.

Within moments Rickhart slumped on the table, showing no signs of life. Yet he was alive, his mind ever working. Dan Rickhart had trained him conscious mind to override the subconscious; to end his heartbeat and breathing. The brilliant bluff had one flaw, as soon as he lost consciousness, his subconscious would retake control and recommence the vital functions.

“Revive him,” yelled Asbar, “We need him alive.”

Suddenly the Reaction Corp guards were doing pulmonary heart massage and CPR; yet Rickhart would not recommence the automated body functions. In fact, the Reaction Corp guards were extending his deception by maintaining his body and hidden consciousness.

After several minutes, the first aid stopped as a stretcher was rolled into the room to take Rickhart to sickbay. “I won’t be needing that,” said Rickhart cheerily, sitting up in the middle of the distraction.

“How the hell did you do that?” asked Asbar in complete shock.

“How doesn’t matter,” gloated Rickhart, “The problem is I can destroy all your hopes just by turning my heart off. So no more electrocutions. Now we play the game by my rules. That includes an end to Mister Palmer violating me. I need three hot meals a day, plenty of water, room to exercise, reading material and regular showers.”

Asbar looked ready to kill Rickhart with his own hands, “Why should I co-operate with you?”

Doctor Steinbeck didn’t like it all; surely Rickhart realized that Asbar wasn’t planning to keep him alive forever. If Rickhart gave something valuable enough for Reaction Corp to control Palmer, then surely Rickhart would be destroyed before Palmer could get his hooks into Rickhart and fix the balance.

“Someone who should be beyond moral reproach killed Kerria Sirade,” said Rickhart, “And that person conspired with the great and the powerful.”

With those words, Asbar put his hand to shake Rickhart’s. Doctor Steinbeck couldn’t help feeling like Reaction Corp was fish on the end of a hook.

To: Roger Hanshuck
CEO of Reaction Corporation
Member of the Corporate Coalition

Dear Sir!

We are quite willing to provide for your request, in exchange for certain adaptations to the legal system of Farmina. For every item on the below list, fifty thousand troops will be financed by the Liberty Alliance:

1. Legalization of gay marriage.
2. Restoration of protection against search and seizure.
3. Increased protection for free speech.
4. Legislation to protect the right to bear arms.

Do that, and any Allanean will call you Brother.


In the meanwhile, Allaneans were drawing back from the cities, some leaving, some organizing themselves into units to protect the liberal activists, armed with baseball bats and homemade explosives. At night, they attacked Moralist and Socialist strongholds, beating the politicians up and setting their homes on fire. The amount of Allaneans fell. Their activity rose.

The judge sat there for a few moments, typing a few things on his computer, before looking at the lawyer.

"Does the plantiff have an organised day to have the case heard?"

"Well," said Adam. "I believe our client will like it in around four months time, on June 2nd."

"Any objections to that, defendant?"

The Liberty Alliance may not realise this; but under the Farminan constitution, the Parliament is responsible for legislation, not private corporations. Reaction Corporation has no power to make laws and hence will not fulfil the Liberty Alliance’s request. Any such request should be made to the President and the Moralist dominated Parliament.

If the Liberty Alliance is not interested in creating new markets, then it should simply say so.

Roger Hanshuck
CEO of Reaction Corporation
Member of the Corporate Coalition

---

Reaction Corporation men were out in double force tonight. Fighting between Moralists and Liberals had basically died out; but law and order needed to be ensured and “basically accomplished.” Liberals and Moralists, despite their hatred, eventually had to work together; especially considering their respective powers. Now more problems were being caused by Allaneans who didn’t seem to recognise that Farminan laws applied to them. And that was exactly what Reaction Corporation was doing. Hunting out every piece of security footage, and every black-shirt’s testimony; to make every effort to press charges against every troublesome foreigner. A few black-shirts who continued to make trouble also had arrest warrants put to their names.

---

Barry Whitely stood up, “My clients wish for an earlier trial date. We feel Colonial Publishing Inc has stalled long enough and has had surplus time to prepare. This is a matter of public, dare I say national, interest in both Farmina and Northern Colonies, and should be given the priority it deserves. We move the case be heard in once month.”

"Your Worship," Adam interuptted. "As you may know, most high court cases take six months between opening speeches to actual hearings. We should not be trying to get rid of procedure, for the sake of importance. We have shorten our time to accomodate the intentions of the Farminans, but they may not know that this court does take more cases then this one."

"Adam, I do appreciate your concerns," replied one of the judges. "And I do know about how procedure must be kept. However, this is in the national interest of the two countries. I would not be suprised if both President Palmer and Prime Minister John Anderson are watching this. However, I will shift the hearing to May 2nd. Agree?"

Adam sighed, four months would have seriously crushed the momentium of the Farminan case.

"Ok," he replied.

"And you, Whitely?" Asked the Judge.

______________________________________________
To: President of Farmina
From: Department of Foreign Affairs, Northern Colonies
Subject: A possible state visit by the SGC


On behalf of the SGC, I would like to ask you if it is possible for the SGC, Jonathan O'Brien would be able to visit Farmina in a few weeks. He would also like to address parliament during session time. We hope that you will accept the inviation.

Your Sincerely,
Alexander Peters
Minister for Foreign Affairs
Northern Colonies

“We recognize the date set,” said Mr Whitely, although was disappointed that it wasn’t sooner.

---

To Alexander Peters

I would be honoured to have Lord O’Brien return to Farmina after our previous run in, I am also sure that the Parliament will be willing to hear Lord O’Brien speak.

James Palmer
President of the Republic

“We recognize the date set,” said Mr Whitely, although was disappointed that it wasn’t sooner.

---

To Alexander Peters

I would be honoured to have Lord O’Brien return to Farmina after our previous run in, I am also sure that the Parliament will be willing to hear Lord O’Brien speak.

James Palmer
President of the Republic

"Then the case is adjourned until the May 2nd," said the judge. He picked up his gravel and hit the plate.

"All rise!"

Everyone stood up as the judges walked out.

______________________________
To Lord Palmer

When will you be able to accomodate the SGC?

Alexander Peters
Minister for Foreign Affars
Nothern Colonies[/QUOTE]

To Alexander Peters,

The invitation is begins in exactly a month. Lord O’Brien is welcome to visit any time past that; as long as you register with my secretary and the Parliament within the week, so they can make correct adjustments for his arrival. Beyond this the schedule, is completely at Lord O’Brien’s will.

James Palmer
President of the Republic

To Lord Palmer

Thank you for the invitation. We will be visiting in exactly one month, just so you are aware.

Alexander Peters
Minister for Foreign Affars
Nothern Colonies

“Daniel, please,” said Asbar, “Get to the point.”

“I am,” retorted Rickhart with fake annoyance at Asbar’s impatience, “It is very important we get the details clear.”

“We have been discussing these details for days now,” noted Asbar.

“The more you interrupt, the longer this will take,” said Rickhart.

“I warned you,” muttered Dr Steinbeck, but Asbar took no notice.

“Now where was I,” said Rickhart, “Now I was on page 290 of Plato’s “The Republic.” 555c of the old numbering system. Just to recollect, I was reading the second edition of the Desmond Lee translation.”

“I don’t see how this relates to who killed Kerria Sirade,” commented Asbar.

“You’re just making this take longer by interrupting,” warned Rickhart, “Guard, more water please.”

The Reaction Corp guard obediently poured Rickhart another glass of water. “I was just saying that I was up to page 290; 555c of the old numbering system. Upon reading this I came to a realization.”

Asbar nodded impatiently for Rickhart to go on. Rickhart took a slow dramatic tone, “I realized I had to read 555d to get more information.”

For several hours Rickhart went on reciting page and section numbers; occasionally discussing or reciting what was written in each section, “The philosopher is 729 times happier than the tyrant.”

“And then?” asked Asbar, forgetting Rickhart’s rules about interruptions.

“You’re goons marched in and shot me,” said Rickhart, “And that’s how I ended up here.”

“That wasn’t what we were supposed to be talking about,” observed Asbar.

“Weren’t we?” said Rickhart, “How silly of me. Well I need some rest; so if you could have some food sent to my cell, we shall continue this discussion in the morning.”

Asbar stood up in great rage, “Daniel Rickhart, we have been round and round. I think it is time we gave you a lesson in discipline.”

The Reaction Corp guards unholstered their pain amplifiers, the fearsome electrical devices for causing short sharp pain. Rickhart glared back at Asbar, “Perhaps I should simply die.”

Asbar glared back intently, signaling for his men to hold back, “If that is your threat, then you will either give me some information or die. If you won’t talk you are no use alive.”

Dr Steinbeck watched carefully; he had observed that Rickhart certainly had a will to live; otherwise he would have killed himself long ago. It was a decent play by Asbar; but Steinbeck couldn’t help feel he would be outplayed.

Daniel Rickhart seemed to soften after Asbar’s ultimatum; Asbar certainly had a point. Why keep Rickhart alive if he wouldn’t talk? Rickhart sighed, “There was a note at my house detailing the murder.”

Then silently Rickhart thought, “Just a drip of truth at a time; that should buy me enough time.”

Snyder sat down inside the debris littered room. It would need to be cleaned at some point. The blast was anticipated, but he didn't expect the power of the blast. He was hoping to only damage a small part of the structure, but the incompetant Shadow did more damage than planned. Now his operations would be badly crimped. Fortunately, he had both the underground command center, and his very own center of operations elsewhere, that even the other Force Commanders were not aware of.

Now was time to move on to the next part of the plan. He needed to impliment his special police to control his dissidents, and he also needed to dispose of those pesky Force Commanders. And for Dasch, he had the perfect plan.

He loaded up the dusty laptop and searched up the database for information. He scrolled down the Farminan report, and reached the part which described his time investigating Farmina. He read it in detail, and then closed the laptop. He flipped open his communicator, and pressed a few buttons.

"General, we may have a traitor within our midst," Snyder said.

TO: Milita Enforce States
From: Department of Foreign Affairs, Northern Colonies
Subject: Possible talks

We would like to be able to exchange talks with yur nation. Is it possible to organise in a few days?

Your Sincerely,
Alexander Peters
Minister for Foreign Affairs
Northern Colonies

The sun rained down in Lord Palmer’s private retreat. Jamie Palmer felt the warm sun glare on his white back. A simple, pleasant luxury in the presence of so much intrigue and danger. Reaction Corporation was up to something, “They’ve made a deal with Rickhart. They do place a curse on themselves.”

The case against Colonial Publishing Inc seemed strong, but with the sudden trip by the SGC, Palmer couldn’t feel like he was missing something, “What could the buffoon want this time?”

Lord Snyder was moving to solidify his position with great haste. The Messian was making enemies rapidly; but that was vital. Enemies would unify the remaining Messians under Snyder. Palmer needed just enough leverage to control Snyder, and with much of the Messian infrastructure, that had become a little easier. “He’ll never see it coming.”

“Ah Darren,” said Palmer aloud, “If only the great power would give me instructions to fill the gaps in my plans.”

Darren’s oily hands ran up and down Lord Palmer’s back, caressing gently massaging, “Perhaps God wishes for you to fight along this path alone. He knows that you will achieve his aim without intervention.”

“God,” thought Palmer, “As though God would support me. The Puppeteer, he has led me here; but where does he lead me now?”

Darren’s hands moved onto Palmer’s naked buttock. Palmer was not distracted from the conversation, “I’m not even sure I will succeed on this path. Moralists, foreigners, Socialists, the Church, the military; they all plot for power. I suppose Justinian in his exile still locks lustfully towards the Republic. How can I fight all these?”

“Surely God intends you to succeed or he would not have made you President?” commented Darren, his hands continuing down to Palmer’s calves.

“Indeed,” said Palmer, before silently adding to himself, “Why would the Puppeteer make me President, unless he expects me to succeed at something?”

The Moralists were beaten, but not crushed. Dan Rickhart was no longer a threat but not dead. Tobias Grey was out of the way; but missing. What could the Puppeteer expect?

“He expects me to fail,” muttered Palmer, in mild paranoia.

“What milord?” asked Darren, curiously.

“I have some research to do,” said Palmer, getting up and then moving to stand at his full height.

“Yes milord,” responded Darren submissively.

The muscularly powerful President looked down the young masseur, such a tender man. Such a lovely smooth face, and a pleasant rear. Soft, thing lips. Yes, why not? Sex could be such a beautiful thing.

“Call me Jamie,” said Palmer, in his pleasant, lulling voice.

“Yes, Jamie,” said Darren, still submissively.

With his powerful grip, Palmer’s left hand took hold of Darren’s neck, “God created a world of beautiful things. And he teaches us to love that beauty. Like all of God’s creatures, you are a beautiful thing to be loved.”

Palmer’s right hand moved slowly down Darren’s back, coming to rest on the masseur’s soft buttock, “My dear Darren, let me teach you about love. Let me show you wonderful things.”

And with a mighty jerk of his powerful left hand around Darren’s neck; Palmer pulled Darren’s lips up to his; and the masseur’s lips were completely submissive.

“Let me show you wonderful, terrible things....”

Militia Enforced State
Official Communique

We accept the request, and we wish for your arrival to be in fourty-eight hours from now. We are looking forward to your arrival.

- Force Commander Jason Snyder

--------

Dasch looked into Alana's eyes lovingly as they snuggled on the couch. He gave her a light kiss, and just looked at her.

"I wish that things weren't so abysmal right now. I really wanted to take more time off," Dasch said.

She smiled. "I know. But I'm confident that you can take care of things now. You've had time to recollect and relax."

Dasch nodded. "Thanks for being here for me," he said. They moved closer to give another kiss when a load knock on the door filled the room. Dasch stopped, and looked back at the door. "Who can that be?" Dasch asked to no one in particular. He got up, and Alana got up to follow.

Dasch reached the door, unlocked the door, and opened it. He could see two Messian Police Services agents standing there, but they had a slightly but noticably different type of uniform on. It read "MESPS Counter-Terrorism Special Police".

"May I help you?" Dasch asked bewildered, but unnoticably so.

"We are here to arrest you for questioning into terrorist activities, Alex Jake Dasch."

How dare they use my real name... Dasch thought. "Excuse me? Are you making some sort of mistake here?"

"Stand down, and we won't take you forcefully," the man cautioned. He pulled out some handcuffs, while the other man moved his hand onto his holdster. Dasch sighed, and raised his hands. He moved against the wall.

"Alex? What's going on?" she asked, worringly. "Why is he being arrested?"

The man with the hand on his holdster looked at her. "Suspected terrorism charges," he said.

"Terrorism charges?!" she said angrily. "Where's the proof?!"

"We cannot disclose that at this time," he said, as Dasch's handcuffs clicked into place, and he was dragged out of the building. As he was being led out, Dasch looked at her. "They've made a mistake Alana! Believe in me!" He was pushed into the car, and in a few moments they were gone, leaving Alana in a bewildered, emotional state.

--------

Ackvick looked solumnly at Alana from his bed. She sad across from him. He was still in the psychiatric facility, but now he was in a more pleasent room. An unlocked room to the rest of the building, and a real bed.

"Dasch was arrested on terrorism charges?" Ackvick said.

"That's right," she said. "And we seem to be down to two active Force Commanders now, Snyder and Kaider."

Ackvick moved into a more comfortable position. "Something's not right," he said. He moved to get up. "I'm going back out there to try to get Dasch out of prison. I believe that he is innocent, I know him. I want him to get out there and try to get to the bottom of the assasinations, and terrorist attacks. There just seems to be something big going on, but I can't seem to track it down. Our best chances are to get Dasch out of jail."

"But how will we get you out of here?" she asked.

"Simple. Open a door innocently, and I'll rush out as soon as they move to let you out."

She nodded. "We better go posthaste," she said.

--------

Kaider looked at Snyder. "I can't believe it. Charged with terrorism?" he said.

Snyder nodded. "That is corrent. That effectively leaves us with two Force Commanders, not enough to have a fair debate."

"Well..." Kaider started, "We need to form a coalition of sorts to keep this government alive. We really need to work closely together, and make some bends in order to keep things stable."

Excellent, Snyder thought. "Very well. But which of us should lead the cause?"

"You were elected at the head of the table, so I suppose you," Kaider replied.

Snyder nodded. "Very well," he said. "There is one thing though."

Kaider looked into Snyder's eyes.

"I have just recieved a whiff of information that Tobias Grey is in Messian territory right now."

Kaider's heart jumped. He forgot to tell him!

"Who informed you?" Kaider said in an intentionally curious way.

"Some of the soldiers at the Farminan temporary compound. They spoke of a successful extraction attempt."

"That is true," reasoned Kaider, "We took him out of the country by request of Dan Rickhart. We felt that his life was in danger."

Snyder thought. He was probably right. But at the same time he needed to both please Palmer, and to reduce the effectiveness of the Farminan government.

"So you kidnapped him? Without administrative approval?" Snyder said in a slightly deeper voice.

"I'm sorry Snyder, we didn't have the time," Kaider said.

"I'm sorry too," Snyder said. "Guards!"

Kaider had a look of bewilderment as two armed Messians with the new uniform walked up to the door.

"Take this man into prison for contempt of government, and kidnapping," Snyder said darkly.

"Yessir," the soldiers replied. Kaider looked deep into Snyder's eyes. "I think I know who the real traitor is now!" Kaider said angrily, but quietly.

"I am doing things for the Messian cause. I'm not a traitor. Take him away."

The two soldiers took Kaider out of the office, and Snyder picked up a phone. He dialed a number.

"Luitennant, immediately do a search for a Tobias Grey under protective custody," he said.

--------

Tobias watched the Messian TV as he sat in his room. He had a tracking bracelet attached to his wrist, that was comfortable, but still a nuisance to wear. He was also free to go about his buisness if he didn't leave the country.

OOC: Farmina, post Tobias's reaction.

“Blasted Messians,” thought Grey, flicking through the channels, “Must they disrupt everything?”

Messian television didn’t even have anything worth watching. Rumours of strange stirrings in Mes. Force Commanders dying; the balance of power tilting, “Happens when you put all your power in a dictatorship. Checks and balances are inevitably corrupted by fear and greed.”

But even in Farmina things were not perfect. Palmer was overextending his reach. Palmer was dangerous and foolish, but Grey couldn’t help feeling that something far worse was happening in Mes.

“If only I could go home,” thought the former President.

The Foreign Minister, and the Prime Minister were walking on the deck of the 747. The 747 was being flown by the NCAF (Northern Colonies Air Force).

"Ok, let me do the talking, ok," said the PM.

"Okay," said the Foreign Minster.

The plane approched Francisco-Angelas International Airport, the main international airport of the MES. The pilot pressed the button, opening his microphone to the wavelength of the Control tower.

"Tower, Colonial Two is inbound from Francisco-Angelas, to land."

OOC: Northern Colonies - FYI, it's Francisco-Angelas, not the other way around.

IC:

Tobias heard a knock on the door. He grumbled as he got up to answer the door. He opened it to find one of his bodyguards waiting there.

"Mr. Grey, is everything to your satisfaction, or do you need anything?"

OOC: Will post more later.

“Nothing you will provide,” grumbled Tobias Grey, before adding more fondly, “Oh and some more cigarettes. Quality ones; not the cheap and nasty stuff.”

---

To Force Commander Snyder

With the current upheaval in your nation, Reaction Corporation has informed me that it is willing to extend to your nation security contracts. Their success in Farmina is to be admired, and no doubt repeatable.

I request a briefing on your encounter with the Colonist, Alexander Peters, upon its completion. These Colonials concern me.

Lord James Palmer
President of the Republic

The soldier nodded. "Aye, sir."

As he moved to walk away, he turned back around. "Mr. Grey, for your information we were just able to rout the Farminan TV channels to this building, so if you wish, we can set up the reciever for you."

--------

Snyder heard his laptop make a ping ping noise, which interupted Snyder's contemplation. He opened the screen, and opened up the message.

---
Loading up message...done.
Decrpying...done.
Opening...

To Force Commander Snyder

With the current upheaval in your nation, Reaction Corporation has informed me that it is willing to extend to your nation security contracts. Their success in Farmina is to be admired, and no doubt repeatable.

I request a briefing on your encounter with the Colonist, Alexander Peters, upon its completion. These Colonials concern me.

Lord James Palmer
President of the Republic

End message.
Command> _

Snyder read it suspiciously. Having more loyal followers would be handy, but if Palmer were to attempt to grab onto power here, the Reaction Corp could be very, very dangerous.

Command> Reply
Loading Prompt...done.

Enter Message> _

He thought carefully to word it properly. He didn't want to offend the man, as it would make eliminating him extremely difficult. He typed in his message.

Send, Save or Delete?> Send

He pressed enter, and logged out of the secure digital mailing system.

--------

Palmer access his computer to find a message waiting for him:

From: Force Commander Snyder
To: President Palmer

I thank you for your offer during this time of need. However, I must regretfully decline your motion as our security forces are filling the role brilliantly, and we wish to keep foreign influences out of the country as it could instigate a terrorist attack.

Again, thank you for the offer, and for other offers I'd be willing to negotiate.

- Force Commander Jason Snyder
Militia Enforced State

--------

Alana and Ackvick walked up to the corner which led to the main lobby. Two guards stood at the door leading outside, and a reception desk was to the right of the door, built into the wall. Alana told Ackvick to wait, and she walked up to the reception desk.

"May I help you m'am?" an older lady said.

"Yes, I'd greatly appreciate if you could release James Ackvick from here. He needs to be back at a home-bound environment with his friends and family," she said calmly. She could see Ackvick innocently looking around the corner to see what she was up to. As it was an open psychiatic hospital (except the high-security wards), no one was suspicious of him.

"I would have to talk to the supervisor about that. We don't know his true mental state right now," she said. "The man broke one of the Force Commander's nose."

Alana nodded. "I can keep an eye on him, so don't worry about him acting out of line."

The women looked to the side while thinking. "I'll contact the supervisor."

She dialed into the phone and explained the situation. After a few moments, she hung up.

"On the condition that he is under supervision from someone at all times, he is free to go."

Alana smiled. "Thank you." Alana walked back to Ackvick. "Looks like we don't have to do anything fancy," she said. Ackvick looked at her a little funny. "How did you pull it off?" he asked.

"I'm just a smooth talker, that's all," she said as she led him out of the building.

--------

Dasch looked out from the jail cell. It was a little cold and dark, which gave him a stark reminder of the Messian criminal code. He then heard the metal door unlock, and open with a creak. He saw someone that was instantly familiar.

"Chris?!" Dasch said in surprise. "What the hell happened with you?"

Kaider struggled against the two guards with the special uniforms as he was pushed into Dasch's cell. The guard slammed the cell shut. Kaider was breathing heavily from moving around, and looked at Dasch straight into the eyes. "I think I know who murdered the Force Commanders, and is up to this whole thing."

Dasch looked at Kaider with an interested look.

"I think it's Snyder," Kaider said.

Dasch leaned back in mild shock. "It can't be! We have protocols against that! I even elected him!"

Kaider nodded somberly. "I know. But this man is very intelligent. I think he took power from right under our noses. And right now he has..."

"..absolute power," Dasch finished. "Damnit..."

The two men looked around a bit, thinking, and then looked back at each other.

"How sure of it are you about this?" Dasch said.

"Very sure. I neglected to tell him about the Tobias plot, and he arrested me for corruption because of it. I've also noticed that some of our men have new uniforms. That alone is somewhat suspicious, as uniform changes are confirmed by us, and I don't recall when these changes were brought forward."

Dasch nodded his head, and his eyes shut. "This is all wrong..." he said quietly. "Our nation's being torn apart by a tyrant."

Kaider got up and paced around inside the four by twelve cell. There was a window up high inside the high-ceilinged room, bringing in a bit of natural light.

"Now how the hell are we going to get out of here?" Kaider said. "With our charges, I can almost guarantee that we're going to get shot."

Then they heard the door unlock and open again, and a guard came out, a different guard with the standard uniform. He came up to the cell, and got out some keys.

"What's going on?" asked Dasch.

"We have been ordered to release you from prison."

"Released? By who's order?" Dasch said, bewildered. The two men got up.

"Force Commander James Ackvick," the guard said bluntly. "But you better hurry, my new superiors seem to be rather...strict and mean."

As the two men got out, Dasch turned to the guard. "If you value your life, you should come with us. If they get wind of this, they may put your head on a pole."

The guard nodded, and followed the two men to the main entrance. The men could see some of the special-uniformed guards looking at them suspiciously as they approached the security checkpoint that connected the main lobby to the rest of the prison. When they reached the checkpoint, a regular shirted guard stopped them.

"When are you going with these men?" the guard asked the other.

"Order by Force Commander Ackvick, sir," the guard said. The guard took a note he got earlier, and gave it to the other guard. He read it and nodded.

"They're free to go," the checkpoint guard said. The three men moved out towards the exit, and suddenly, a man called out as they reached the doors.

"Halt!"

Dasch cringed. It was one of the special-shirted guards. They stopped.

"We've been released," Dasch said calmly. "We're being escorted out of the building."

"Under who's authority?!" the guard boomed.

"Force Commander James Ackvick, sir," the guard said. He showed him the paper. The supervisor yanked the paper from the guard's hand, and read it.

"I've been informed that Ackvick is no longer a Force Commander. I'm only answering to Force Commander Snyder."

Dasch looked bleak. "You don't understand!" Dasch said.

"Guard, take these men back to their cells," the supervisor said intimidatingly. He put his hand onto his batton.

The guard turned to the two Force Commanders. "Go," he whispered.

The guard then pushed open the door, and then tackled the supervisor. Dasch looked at the guard in suprise and shock, when Kaider yanked Dasch out of the building. "Let's go!" Kaider yelled. They sprinted towards the two massive steel doors that sealed off the prison. Suddenly, a loud, long klaxxon went off. The two large steel doors slowly crawled towards the closed position.

"Let's move!" Dasch yelled in agreement. They could hear gunshots from inside the prison as they moved close to the ever closing door. Then, they heard gunshots as guards in the guard towers opened fire with their rifles. Bullets flew around the men as they move past the door, just as the doors slam shut. An SUV waited by the road with the doors open. He could see Ackvick and Alana in there. As they ran up to the vehicles, and dove in, bullets flew in their direction. As the two men landed inside the vehicle, Ackvick hit the gas, squeeling the tires as the SUV sped off.

Dasch pulled the door shut, and sat down. His heart felt like it was pounding through his chest. "I've never been so glad to see you, Jimmy boy!" Dasch said to Ackvick. "You too Alana." Alana smiled as she looked back at Dasch. She held out her hand and Dasch held onto Alana's hand.

"That was very tenacious of you two," Kaider said. "At least the three of us are out."

"That's right," Ackvick said, "But we're far from bringing things back to normal. Right now we're fugitives, and I'm very sure we're being tracked as we speak. Our best and only hope is to regroup with our generals."

"Umm...Jimmy," Dasch said bleakly. "The only generals we have left are in Task Force 1 and 3. They were in a meeting in the headquarters when the bomb went off. All lives were lost in the collapsed section."

Ackvick turned back. "You're bullshitting me!"

"That man's a genius, like I said," Kaider stated, matter-of-facty. "I think he's recruited an army right from under our noses."

"Who are you refering to?" Ackvick said, eyes back on the road.

"Force Commander Snyder." Kaider said bluntly.

Ackvick slammed on the brakes, squeeling the tires. The two men were thrown forwards onto the seats in front as the vehicle came to a sudden stop.

Ackvick cleared his throat. "Sorry," he said. He slowly accelated, back to a normal speed, instead of his fast speed of before.

The two men groaned as they got up and sat back down. They buckled in like they should have, but forgot in the heat of the moment.

"Snyder? What about the protocols?" Ackvick said.

"It's true," said Kaider. "Messian investigation and my own research has brought up numerous clues. For one, there's been a lot of transfers ordered in our force. Secondly, the uniforms. Thirdly, the assasinations. And another thing, that bomb took out most of our highest ranked members of our military and leadership, as they all happened to have been sent to a meeting in D section before the bomb went off. And how Snyder just 'happened' to be at a restaurant across the street? I believe in coincedences but this is more than just a coincedence."

Ackvick nodded. "We need to regroup with Task Force 1 if we're going to get anywhere. If we stay in the country, we're doomed to die."

After a long silence inside the SUV, Dasch spoke up. "What's happening with Tobias?"

Ackvick turned back. "Yeah, what is happening with him?" Ackvick said.

Dasch and Alana looked over to Kaider, as Ackvick kept his eyes back on the road.

"Last I checked he was living in a residence set up for him, over in the capital city outskirts," Kaider said.

"We better get him out of our country now, oh the irony," Ackvick said. He turned around, squeeking the tires, and accelerated towards Tobias's residence.

“I doubt Farminan television channels would like you stealing their content,” observed Tobias Grey, “No ,just get me some cigarettes.”

---

Lord Palmer quietly and patiently read the response from Snyder, “He acts with caution. But fear destroys caution.”

Palmer deleted the message as his mind turned to a new project; putting Force Commander Snyder back in his cage.

With hardly any wind, the plane touched down with ease. As the plane taxied down, the Foreign Minister and the Prime Minister prepared to embark down the aircrapft. Accompling him was members from the Federal Investigative Bureau, Uniformed Branch, Dipomatic and Ministeral Protection Branch. They were armed with MP7s, recently purchased for the memebers. Of course, the weapons were concealed.

The plane grounded to a halt and the Foreign Minister and the Prime Minister walked off the plane, talking to each other, expecting to meet an offical.

James Palmer listened as the orchestra played their beautiful sounds to cover the racket caused by the palace staff preparing the White Palace dining room across the hall. Four courses had been ordered, and the presence of the media. The best orchestra in the land. Hundreds of Reaction Corp troopers. The entire cabinet, with the exception of the missing Tobias Grey, would be present for this moment. All of Farmina would be watching their televisions. President Palmer had invited a surprise guest to dinner in every house in Farmina.

Palmer looked over his white cloaked shoulder, to his assistant Gina, “Is the guest nearly ready?”

“Yes, Lord President,” confirmed Gina, “And all the media outlets are ready to cover this historic day.”

“Good,” said Palmer, looking down the long white suit, that had been one of Justinian’s finest, “Everything must go perfectly.”

Gina passed the President the final component of the outfit, the thick black belt, which held the fallen emperor’s sword. The outfit was a dashing one; white on white, the finest materials money could buy. The long, flowing cream cloak, spoke both of power, but power held in a soft hand. “Our guest must have been surprised when we ordered him out of exile,” said Palmer.

“Indeed,” said Gina, “An offer that he could not refuse.”

“Even if he wanted to,” added Palmer.

Gina did not follow exactly what the President meant, “Why him?”

“My research confirmed what I needed to know,” said Palmer, “This is what must happen. Now we must be getting to dinner.”

Palmer walked swiftly across the hall, his cloak catching in the air behind him. Reaction Corp troops saluted as he passed through the open door into the dinning room. With that moment, spontaneous applause erupted as the sitting Moralists and Liberals, who lined both sides of the dinning table; not to mention the vital media, cheering their President, regardless of whether they loved him or hated him. No one paid the slightest heed to Justinian’s great sword. They saw the ceremony in it; and realized that it was a cumbersome weapon compared to hundreds of the President’s armed Reaction Corp troops.

The orchestra continued to play. A guard pulled back the President’s chair at the end of the long table and President, sat firmly on it; his blade twisting uncomfortably. Gina took position behind her President, loyally clapping softly, while holding her schedules and folders under her arm.

“Bring in the guest,” said Palmer, perfectly aware that every inch of the room was covered by a camera on every angle.

Reaction Corp men pulled open the two great doors at the far end of the room from Palmer. Into the light and the view of the cameras came a medium height man, who clearly had not gone hungry in his exile. He wore the robes of the Grey Catholic Church, and the lines of time on his face.

Palmer announced in his loudest voice, “May I welcome home, former Arch-Bishop Charles Thurg.”

Curious looks could be noted on the faces of many the journalists. They had been hoping for Justinian or Thomas Goth. The clues had even pointed to the Emperor; the blade, the white suit.

Charles Thurg took his seat at the opposite of the end table, as Palmer allowed the murmuring to subside. Waiters in their palace tuxedos swooped on the table, with steaming bowls of heavily seasoned pumpkin soup. “I thank the Lord President for ending my long exile,” said Charles Thurg

“I am sure we all remember the tale of Lord Thurg’s unrighteous exile,” said Palmer, addressing the media and the audience at home, “It was huge news at the time. A traitor in a time of war. Now, all these years later, we see this to be the lies of the old Church oligarchy and the late Supreme Commander Arnold Bashar of the military.”

“Deceit was so core to Farminan politics, and to Arnold Bashar,” said Thurg, before spooning more soup into his mouth.

“The Sinear Wars were coming to a close and Lord Thurg was in Nowhere Placan custody,” noted Palmer, “Farmina and Nowhere Place sat tied at the negotiating table. The Treaty of ViZion was signed; the terms of an equal peace. But one term went widely unnoticed in the celebration of peace; Charles Thurg was to escape execution and given sanctuary in Nowhere Place, until he found a more permanent residence.”

“That is history as we all know it,” observed Chancellor Longwool, the bumbling Liberal.

“Indeed,” noted Palmer, “Now Lord Thurg, what have you been doing during your exile.”

“Preaching,” responded Thurg, sipping another spoon of soup.

“Fascinating,” said Palmer, “What did you preach?”

“The good book of course,” said Thurg, “And the Catholic reading of the book.”

Palmer stood up and began to stroll around the table towards Charles Thurg, checking that the television cameras were following him, “Dedication to the good book. This is what religion needs. A focus on what the Bible actually says.”

Many of the Moralists nodded soberly, as well as several Liberals. Palmer came to a halt, beside Thurg, “The Church has been festering with corruption. What happened to you, Lord Thurg, is proof of this. I have had the charges against you dropped, but we still need to route out that which is wrong. How would you like to be involved in such a work, Lord Thurg?”

“It would please me greatly,” said Charles Thurg, talking to the cameras, just as Palmer was.

“Your dedication to your cause seems great,” said Jamie Palmer; his words proving just enough distraction.

With a twist of his arm; the hidden dagger dropped down Palmer’s sleeve into his right hand, which was quickly dragged through the front of Charles Thurg’s throat. The wound was deep and after a brief gurgle with blood spurting furiously out; the former arch-bishop fell forward. The dead man’s head landed on top of the soup bowl, with a loud cracking thud.

The media and Chancellors stared on in horror and awe. Palmer dropped the blade and spoke, “But the cause of terrorism shall not prevail. Your corruption shall not sustain here.”

The President dragged Justinian’s blade out of its sheath and lifted it high in the air, as though to make a heroic speech, “People of Farmina and the world, I present to you and evil that never sleeps.”

Then with brutal force, the blade plummeted downwards through the air into the table; slicing firmly through the dead man’s neck. Palmer released his grip of the sword, now firmly implanted in the dinning table. Palmer picked up the gruesome decapitated head and held it before the cameras, “May I present in all his glory, the Shadow. With a thousand deaths to his name; the era of fear and horror is over. Farmina, you are safe now.”

“This government makes you safe; Reaction Corporation makes you safe!” declared Jamie Palmer, before rolling the severed head back onto the dinning table, coming to rest next to the blade.

Silently he added, “Fear me Puppeteer. Fear me Snyder. There is no one beyond my reach.”

“Lord President, Lord President,” yelled the hordes of the media.

“Gina has all the intel to prove Lord Thurg’s treachery in that yellow folder,” said Palmer, “That should answer all your questions.”

As though not to waste a second, servants collecting up the soup plates and bringing out the second course as the Chancellors still stared at the ruins of Lord Thurg on the dining table.

“I’m afraid Lord Thurg isn’t very hungry,” commented Chancellor Longwool to a waiter, “He won’t be wanting anything more to eat.”

Chancellor Phillip Sullivan noted, “Well that was a sudden end. Doesn’t the bad guy normally make a long speech or plead for his life before he gets the chop? Takes all the fun out of it really.”

It was in a passing moment, that Palmer saw something that interested him more than food. “Excuse me waiter,” he said to one of the young male waiters, wearing trousers that were a little too tight, “I feel like some quiet time. Could you please take my meal up to my bedroom?”

“Certainly Lord President,” said the waiter, before briefly stopping to staring at the decapitated body, in awe of the President’s ruthless and decisive action.

“Good,” said the President, watching the waiter’s graceful rear as he walked away. The President walked over to his danger and picked it up.

Palmer walked over and picked up his picked up his blood soaked dagger, thinking to himself, “I can hurt you Puppeteer; the tables are turned.”

To: Government of Foreign Affairs
From: Department of Foreign Affairs, Northern Colonies
Subject: The 'Shadow'


The Colonial Government is shocked and appalled that the Farmian Government has decided to execute a man without due process. This man was not given a trail of any sort. We insist that the Farminan Government offer some sort of apology, and punish the man involved. Until such offers are made, we will be asking for you to recall your dipomat, as we will too.

Your Sincerely,
Jane Nguyen
Parlimentary Secretary to the Minister for Foreign Affairs
Northern Colonies

To Jane Nguyen
Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister for Foreign Affairs
Northern Colonies

The execution of known terrorists is considered acceptable practice in Farmina. The Shadow, now known to be Charles Thurg, was tried and convicted under Farminan law for terrorism, owning of unlicensed submarines and multiple counts of murder. That Lord Thurg was not present at the trial, was his own choice. The trial was clearly publicized, so Lord Thurg may have attended if he so wished. That he did not, was an act of the defendant’s free will.

James Sarck
Acting Chancellor for Foreign Affairs
Democratic Republic of Farmina

To: Government of Foreign Affairs
From: Department of Foreign Affairs, Northern Colonies
Subject: The 'Shadow'


If that is the case, is it possible to send the court documents. And if that is true, then we apologise for being unaware of such court case . We do not, however encourage live TV excecutions.

Your Sincerely,
Jane Nguyen
Acting Minster for Foreign Affairs.
Northern Colonies

The Puppeteer sat quietly around the dark room; through his dark glasses, wearing his dark suit. The screens surrounding him shone bright symbols on their black backgrounds. Each screen bore a unique color, a unique symbol; each for a different one of the Puppeteer’s men. Two of them would not be coming to this meeting; the Shadow dead and the Politician long beyond trust.

“I did not foreseen this,” said the Puppeteer, resting his head firmly in his gloved hands; contemplating and concerned.

“We should have killed Palmer when we had the chance,” jeered the screen with the yellow flame symbol.

“That was unfeasible,” commented the Puppeteer, “And you will do well to note that Firestorm.”

“One of our number is dead,” retorted the Hatespeaker, the red triunate as his mark, “That is what is unfeasible Lord Puppeteer.”

“Such a possibility was unforeseeable,” repeated the Puppeteer, “It is clear we must take extra precautions.”

“Like severing the Politician’s head as he severed the Puppeteers,” said the Hatespeaker, talking in pseudonyms no longer of use.

“Lord Palmer must die,” echoed the Laborer, “He is more dangerous than the Moralists we sent him to replace.”

“Dangerous,” said the Puppeteer, “Yes. More dangerous, no. Dan Rickhart is more dangerous than any of you conceive. You correctly note Rickhart to be a threat; but you do not realize how much. And where Rickhart has dangerous ruthlessness and cunning; Tobias Grey brings a gambling sense, stubbornness, appearance and a head of knowledge. Together, they complement each other; what either lack’s, the other has. Speak to me not of Palmer.”

“Our concern is of Palmer,” called the Accountant, “He knows your true identity. He has killed one of us. He openly challenges us. Surely he will now butcher us one by one.”

“You miss my point,” said the Puppeteer, “If we fail here; Rickhart and Grey will move against us quickly; torturing our secrets out of Palmer. With that knowledge, they will be able to match us move for move. But if you fear Palmer; I suggest you do not accept dinner invitations from him.”

“You foresaw the Shadow’s death,” accused the Laborer, the only member of the council in Farmina, “He is just a pawn in the game, like Palmer.”

“What is Palmer’s role?” demanded the Hatespeaker, “It is clearly not to lead Farmina in our name.”

“I did not foresee Charles’ death,” said the Puppeteer, “I did not even realise he had been recalled from exile. On the matter of Palmer’s role, I perhaps did not make myself clear. He is our counterweight to Tobias Grey and Dan Rickhart. He unbalances the equation. If our work is successful; the Palmer will put the numbers permanently in our favor.”

“And what of the Messian issue,” queried the Firestorm; clearly still unhappy over the explanation of the Palmer issue, “What shall we do with Palmer’s pet, Lord Snyder?”

As far as the Puppeteer was concerned; the Messian’s were irrelevant, they had affected the numbers in his favor so far, but didn’t appear to affect them in the future, “Do you wish action to be taken to limit Palmer’s influence?”

There was a sound of affirmative noises. “Very well,” said the Puppeteer, trying to appease his discomforted followers, “We shall take indirect action against Palmer, by taking it against Force Commander Snyder.”

---

To Jane Nguyen
Acting Minister for Foreign Affairs
Northern Colonies

The court records are in the public archive; accessible via the justice department website.

James Sarck
Acting Chancellor for Foreign Affairs
Democratic Republic of Farmina

Snyder sat in his office when he heard the decrepid sounding door chime buzzer sound by his office. Snyder looked up from his laptop, showing his loyalist forces and their deployments. He closed the screen. "Enter."

The door slid open to find a General with the special uniform standing there. "General DeVires, ma lord'," the General said.

"Please be seated," Snyder said, spinning his chair to the side, while looking at him. He bridged his fingers on his chest as the General walked into the dusty room. The sliding door then slid shut.

"Mi'lord, everything is going to your design. Task Force 2 and 3 are now under your complete control, and most of the leadership has been swapped with your loyal men and women."

"Very good. Serve me well, and you shall be my second hand man," Snyder said. He picked up his coffee cup, and took a sip from it. "This Brazillian brew is quite good, you should try some."

"Thanks, but I'll pass, sir," the General said, smiling. "What are your next plans, sir?"

Snyder turned his chair towards the General. "After getting the country completely behind me, or even sooner, that Palmer character needs to be dealt with, in any way possible."

The General nodded. "Aye, sir." Just then, the decrepid doorbell rang again. "That damn buzzer needs to be replaced," Snyder remarked. "Enter."

The door opened to find a Lieutenant standing at the door, with the same changed uniform. "Mi'lord, we have reports that the two former commanders have escaped from the Epsilon 1 Military Prison!"

Snyder slammed his fists on the desk as he rose. "How?!" Snyder growled.

"Sir, from the reports, confusion occured between loyalist and regular guards at the prison, the regular guards attempting to release them by the order of James Ackvick."

"James Ackvick?" Snyder said calmly, but curiously. "How on earth was he released? And I thought I revolked all of their FC authorization codes?"

"I suppose that word from it has not come out yet," the Lieutenant suggested, speaking a little nervously.

"Well, find the three immediately, and once found bring them, alive!" Snyder said in a deep and serious tone.

"Yes, mi'lord," the Lieutenant said, twisting on his boot, and walking out of the room. The door slid shut, but jammed halfway shut. It then opened again and shut completely.

"This damn building..." Snyder muttered to the General. "Makes me wish that those Farminan-following cultists didn't do this."

"But buildings can be repaired and replaced," the General said. "But at least the bomb definitely cut down on the air conditioning costs."

The two men chuckled. The building was definitely breezy with the huge section of the building collapsed. its sectional design kept the entire building from being destroyed, or even written off. A massive rebuild would be necessary though.

"I better head to the conference room," Snyder said as he got up. "The Northern Colonists are supposed to be arriving there sometime soon."

The General nodded and got up as well. "I'll find those rogue Force Commanders, mi'lord."

Snyder turned back to the General when he reached the door. The door slid open. "While at it, track down that fat politician who really needs to cut back the pork on his 'budget'," Snyder sneared. He then moved to walk out of the room, and ran into the suddenly closed door. He growled, kicked the door, and as the door slid open half-way, slid out of the room.

--------

The large black SUV squeeled into the parking lot of the small safe house about 150 kilometers southwest of the capital city. It was mainly farmland, with trees sprinkled here and there. The SUV slid into the parking space, and the three men and Alana jumped out of the vehicle. They quickly paced up to the building where one of Tobias's bodyguards was standing. He looked uneasy and on guard at their approach, but upon realization on who it was, he relaxed.

"Force Commanders," the bodyguard said, saluting. "What is it that is going on that required your presence so quickly?"

Ackvick motioned the other three past into the building as Ackvick stopped to talk to the guard. "Snyder has taken control of the government. If you wish to survive, come with us."

The guard nodded. "Aye," he said. He then passed Ackvick some cigarettes. Ackvick gave him a weird look. "Tobias requested them, sir," he said. "Didn't have time to give them the extra pack to him as you arrived."

Ackvick smiled, nodded, took the cigarettes, and walked into the building, and met up with the other Force Commanders as they reached the living room where Tobias was sitting. They were standing outside of his view, waiting for Ackvick, at upon his arrival, walked into the room casually.

"Smokes, good," said Tobias standing up, before recognising the three Messians, "I thought two of you went mad and two of you went to prison."

Ackvick cleared the lump in his throat. "I wish circumstances were better, and I must admit, the irony is sickening enough that it makes me want to puke. But we have a huge problem, and now your life is at risk; our system has failed us, and we have reason to believe that Force Commander Snyder has taken over. Ackvick looked at Tobias with a touch of sorrow.

"I noticed that Force Commander Snyder was in charge too," said Tobias, "Rather hard not to notice. I suppose you are going to kidnap me again and take me back to Farmina?"

Ackvick looked at Tobias sheepishly. "I say so, as if you stay here, Snyder will either get rid of you like how he apparently got rid of us, or send you back into Palmer's clutches, and you know he's up to something, especially after the public beheading of the Shadow."

"The bastard died to quickly," said Tobias, his eyes full of hatred, but also of sorrow for his wife.

"That may be true," Ackvick said neutrally, "However, it makes you wonder how he could even find out who the head of the Shadow was." Ackvick then got nudged by Alana, who was pointing at her watch. "That said, we can talk in the SUV. We got to get out of here before Snyder's forces track you down. We hid you well in the grand scheme of things."

"If we must go, we must go," said Grey, picking up his jacket, before setting his eyes firmly back on the box of cigarettes, "Do you mind if I hold them?"

Ackvick then took the extra pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and showed them to you. "Sure, and the guard was meaning to give you a second pack when we arrived."

Within ten seconds, one of the cigarettes was alight and resting firmly between Grey's lips, "Lets go."

The three guards, three Force Commanders, Tobias and Alana all headed out of the building, Ackvick barking out orders to the bodyguard to lock up, and get in. Ackvick got into the driver seat, and Alana sat in the passenger side. Tobias got into the middle left side next to Dasch and Kaider, and the back seats were filled by the three bodyguards. As Ackvick starts the engine of the large SUV. Dasch leaned over "If I were you, buckle up, Tobias," Dasch said quietly. Dasch then buckled himself in.

Tobias tried to buckle his seat belt, but it was too tight for his bulk, so he substantially loosened it, before buckling his belt.

--------

Down the street, a white jeep and a blue passenger car had been parked for some time. "It appears the targets are on the move," said a cultist by the name of Thomas, "Start the engine."

--------

Ackvick then hit the gas as the vehicle sped into reverse, then move violently forward back onto the street, taking a tight right, away from the innocent looking vehicles on the very open road in farm country.

"Told you to buckle up," Dasch said as Tobias was flown around a bit, dropping his cigarette from his mouth. The vehicle quickly sped up to about 120km/h down the 90km/h speed-limited road. "They just don't make belts the right size," muttered Tobias, lighting a fresh cigarette.

--------

"Wait," instructed Thomas in the blue car, watching his GPS map for nearly two minutes, "Speed 120km. Take the first right."

--------

After a fairly lengthy pause Ackvick spoke. "You were right about our government system Tobias, and I'm sorry that I doubted you."

After a pause, Tobias spoke. "Knowledge comes to all in time," said Tobias, "I did my Masters Degree in History, relating to democracy. The past has taught me much."

Ackvick sighed as he drove, and checked the mirror. "That said, it looks like your system is having the same problem as ours. It's fallen corrupt too."

"We have at least limited the damage," said Tobias, "Palmer is powerless without the support of the hundreds that make up the Parliament."

"That is true," Ackvick said. "That is true." Ackvick then checked his mirror. He glanced at it, then took a closer look.

"What are you looking at?" Dasch said curiously.

"How many cigarettes I have in the packet?" said Tobias absent mindedly. Dasch then looked behind their fast-traveling SUV. He saw a jeep and a car behind them, matching speed. Ackvick then slowed, and turned onto another main road. He kept his eyes mainly on the rearview mirror.

--------

"Go straight," said Thomas to his driver who nodded, "Then increase speed."

He pulled out his communicator, "Dennis, go right after the targets, but reduce speed till further contact."

"For Justinian," responded the man named Dennis.

--------

Ackvick saw the one vehicle speed off the road they were traveling, as the other car started to follow behind their SUV.

"Dasch, keep an eye on that car," Ackvick said calmly, but firmly. "Might be nerves, but I'm thinking we might be being followed."

Dasch looked behind them as the car crept a little closer, while they traveled at the same speed as before. "Alright."

_____________

A military APC pulled into the driveway of the building, and a bunch of armed men piled out. The Lieutenant hopped out to check out the building. "Sir, building's clear."

The Lieutenant noticed the skidmarks, and a package of a certain brand of cigarettes...

"They're not far from here. Initiate a search pattern for their vehicle. Tire size looks like a large SUV."

"Aye, sir," the man said.

________

Dasch noticed the car slowing down again, getting more distant. "The vehicle is pulling away. Probably an inattentive driver," Dasch said, calmly.

"Probably nerves," Ackvick said, as he turned left onto another main road to intersect back onto the main road.

"I hate inattentive drivers," muttered Tobias, "Never seem to know whats actually going on."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Ackvick chuckled. "If only they have the same training as we do."

Their vehicle ends up reaching the intersection to go back onto the road they were on before, and they turned right to get back onto it.

"Right," instructed Dennis, to the jeep driver, "Then go back up to 120 once they are out of sight for five minutes."

"We are too far ahead of them," noted Thomas, "Slow back down to 120. We don't want to lose them yet."

Ackvick then saw a very straight part of the two laned farmland road, and he pushed the vehicle a little faster to 130km/h. "Getting a little edgy about time. We need to get out of the country soon before they decide to lock down."

The SUV's engine roared a little louder as the Hydrogen V8 engine pushed the vehicle faster.

"They are speeding up," observed Thomas, "We can make the ambush up ahead. Slow down, swerve and crash into the tree, up near the next big farmhouse. That should help us block the road. Have it ready in reverse."

He then picked up his communicator, "Dennis, you need to speed up to 180 clicks and maintain that speed, until you reach us."

Tobias noted, "Speed limits are a little slow in this nation aren't they."

"That's only because we're on a secondary road. Main roads are much faster," Ackvick said. "140km/h maximum on the four lane roads."

--------

Soon, the SUV zooms back another intersection, where a MESPS police vehicle was slowing to stop. He saw the vehicle speed by, but was out of sight as he pulled to stop. The officer picked up his communicator. "This is unit 251 to dispatch. I have a vehicle heading southwest on highway 53 at excess speed. Requesting another unit to pull ahead of this position to catch them, over?" After a pause, the dispatcher came back. "10-4. Unit 391 will be ready to assist momentarely."

Just then, the jeep zoomed past the patrol cruiser. The officer saw the speed on his gauge: 180km/h. "Holy shit. Dispatch, in pursuit of a vehicle at extreme speed. Vehicle is a white jeep." He hit the gas, and accelerated, hitting his lights and siren.

--------

"Blasted cops," yelled Dennis, "Check your harnesses."

He looked over his shoulder at the men in the back of the jeep, "Ready your arms. Release the backdoors." The backdoors of the jeep fell open, with half a dozen men armed with submachine guns staring back.

--------

The officer saw the flaps come down, and cursed as he hit the brakes. Bullets flew and littered the front of his patrol car. "Shit! Shit! Under fire, multiple hostiles! Requesting all available units! Requesting pursuit elevation!"

"This is dispatch. Are you okay?"

"Confirmed, shots fired. Need backup. NOW."

"10-4. We are sending all available units and heavy units. Helicopters on route."

--------

"Slow," instructed Dennis, "Grenade."

The jeep slowed, as one of the Cultists rolled a grenade along the floor of the carriage, onto the road.

"Gas," declared Dennis, "Tom we have a problem. Pigs have been yapping."

Tom checked his GPS map, checking the expected intercept time, "Bring it up to 200 clicks."

Tom put down his communicator, and looked over to his driver, "Crash her now!"

The driver, immediately swerved and turning the car 90 degrees, landing firmly but safetly in the nearby tree.

Ackvick drove past an intersection, where he saw a cop waiting at the intersection. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Ackvick yelled as they drove past.

"What, what what?" Dasch said, unintentionally mocking him.

"There was a cop car at that intersection. Aaaaaand....yep, he's following," Ackvick said.

"I feel like a Scotch," declared Tobias, completely out of time.

--------

The cop car sped up, and flipped on his roof lights. "This is unit 391, I've spotted the speeding SUV. I'm following in pursuit."

--------

Ackvick slowed down slightly while in thought, then he pressed the gas some more.

"If we get caught, this is all over," Ackvick said.

Then up ahead, he could see a vehicle crashed on the road in front of him. "Crap...there's an accident in front of us."

--------

"Cop car ahead," observed Dennis, "Swap lanes."

Ackvick slowed down to about 60km/h, and studied the scene in front of him. He could see the car blocking the right lane, and both sides were wooded. A nice farmhouse was on the side. He slipped to the left lane to avoid the car. He honked the horn as he approached.

"Now," declared Thomas, and the driver his the accelarator, throwing the car backwards time to rotate the SUV.

Meanwhile in the jeep, "Past the cops," ordered Dennis, rolling down his window as they prepared to pass.

Leveling this anti-tank rifle, he waited till the driver was in clear sight, then with a quick reaiming, fired. "Full speed now."

The cop saw the vehicle pass her, and radioed it in. Then she screamed as the rifle round hit the front of the car, knocking it onto the air, and flying into the field near the wooded area. The vehicle rolled and rolled until it landed. The cop was badly injured, but alive. "Unit....391...down..." she muttered.

Ackvick then saw the jeep behind them blast the cop car, just as the car started to back in the way. "SHIT! Hold on everyone!" Ackvick yelled as he hit the accelerator.

--------

The windows in the car were lowered, submachineguns ready and began peppering the SUV with bullets; the jeep slowing down to a halt. The Cultists in the back of the jeep; detached their harnesses and prepared to bolt. Then the SUV hit the car at 60km/h broadside on the back half of the car, spinning it around violently. The car moved off to the side; allowing the jeep to continue the pursuit. "Full speed," ordered Dennis, putting his head out the window.

Tom waited for the jeep to get the way, before indicating for the car to rejoin the pursuit, "We have to get the Force Commanders before Snyder does."

--------

Ackvick slammed on the gas and pushed the vehicle to 120...130...140km/h.

"I can't believe they shot at us!" Alana yelled. Bulletholes were in the windshield, but no one got nicked.

Dennis openned his door, wedging it open with a grenade. Carefully he levelled his rifle inbetween the door and the window, taking aim at the back right SUV tyre.

Ackvick saw the rifle sticking out of the window, and Ackvick swerved left just as the grenade was launched. It barely missed its mark.

Then Ackvick could hear the sound of a helicopter overhead.

Tobias looked around, "What's going on? I can't see a thing."

Dennis reloaded his rifle and aimed again, before releasing another bullet at the tyres.

"I think some of your terrorists in our nation are trying to gun us down, while we're being chased by the MESPS pursuit unit!" Ackvick yelled, swerving left to cut off the jeep, and accelerating while the helicopter came overhead.

The bullet struck one of the double-tires on the back side, causing air to leak out. "Damnit! I think I've lost a tire!" Ackvick yelled, as Dasch looked back helplessly at them. Then Ackvick saw something that at first was a nightmare, but now was his best friend, the pursuit unit.

--------

"This is pursuit unit 36, I've aquired the suspects."

"Roger that 36, This is 29, I see them as well."

"Who are we trying to arrest again?"

"I don't know, but if it shoots, take it out! They've already shot at two of our officers!"

In front of the two speeding vehicle, three patrol cars had a rolling roadblock, with a Flash UBT right in front of them.

--------


Thomas watched as the speedo crept higher and higher, his car finally catching up to the other two vehicles, but as he listened to the police jabber, detected the warning of a roadblock. Noise above warned of a helicopter. Tom picked up his communicator, "Dennis, you need to turn that SUV around now. I'll deal with the helicopter."

Dennis removed the grenade jarring the door, and allowed it to swing closed. "We have them," said Dennis, "Get around them, then push them off the road."

"Immediately," responded his cultist driver.

--------

Ackvick saw the jeep try to get beside him, and Ackvick swerved left, and pushed the jeep aside as the rolling roadblock came closer and closer. Ackvick could see the Flash get closer and closer. Overhead he could hear a loudspeaker.

"Attention all drivers. You must pull over and surrender immediately. This road is sealed off, and there is no escape!"

Ackvick then pushed the vehicle faster, while everyone else in the car kept low to keep from getting shot.


Dennis leveled his rifle and took aim at one of SUV's front tires, "Time to give up Force Commanders." He then pulled the trigger releasing another bullet, "Faster."

Meanwhile, the roof of Thomas' car was opening up, as one of the Cultist poked out to get a fix on the helicopter, before turning around and pulling up a light machine gun, using his body as cover.

Moving swiftly, the cultist brought the helicopter into the machine guns view, before releasing a hail of bullets.

--------

The helicopter's underbelly got ripped up, with the chopper pilot swerving out of the way. "Our heli's been hit! We're pulling off!" the helicopter pilot yelled into the radio.

The dispatcher cut into the commotion. "All units, the supervisor has increased the pursuit level to condition 5. I repeat condition 5. The Military is taking over control of this operation."

"This is Flash Patrol 9, we have a clear shot, requesting clearence."

"10-4, you are clear."

The Flash UBT fired a round of its 105mm cannon at the car trailing behind the SUV, which was peaking around it.

--------

"Swerve," yelled Dennis, pulling his rifle back inside the jeep.

The jeep did, as the explosion threw it off its wheels, "Storm the road block. For God and Justinian." The cultists each kissed their triunates, as Dennis tried to get out of his seatbelt, "Attack." The six removed their harnesses and slipped out the back of the upturned jeep; submachine guns and grenades ready. The SUV slowed down as the rolling roadblock came to a stop. The car stopped behind the SUV.

"They're stopping!" Alana yelled.

"Well, no matter how tough I am, I'm NOT arguing with a 105mm cannon!" Ackvick declared. "Rush to the cops with hands up!" Ackvick yelled as they unbuckled and ran.

The cultists however were, and shifted their guns to aim at the jeep. "Stay where you are Force Commanders," Dennis said, finally climbing out his jeep, "MES Anti-Terror Squad. MESPS stand down in the name of Force Commander Snyder." The head officer looked at the other officer in her car, then looked back at them. The seven people from the SUV stood there with their hands up. Ackvick looked at the officer, and she recognised him.

"Isn't that Ackvick?" she said quietly.

"It is," the other officer said.

"These Force Commanders were caught aiding the Shadow in Farmina," declared Dennis, "Its why they went to Farmina all along."

She picked up the microphone to her loudspeaker. "This is the MESPS. I don't care who you work for, you shot at and injured fellow officers. You are under arrest for the attempted murder of nine people! Surrender, or we'll shoot, probable cause clause." More police cars pulled up as the scene became more tense.

Dennis wasted no time raising his rifle, "Do that and Force Commander Snyder will have you shot. This is an issue of national security. Cultists in a blue car just shot down a helicopter. Dare you divide our nation at time when treachery is already rife!" Ackvick could hear a pair of helicopters coming in, but he couldn't see them. He looked slowly around, trying to find out what was going on.

"Terror squad, I want ID from all of you, NOW," the woman boomed.

"I do not answer to you," retorted the Cultist, "Snyder demands secrecy. This is my offer. We take the three Force Commanders; they are all we are interested in. The rest are your concern."

The helicopter noises were getting louder, but they were still not in view.

"Times up," said Thomas, "Full speed."

The blue car flew foward, before swerving in front of the blockade so that it was parallel; the machine gun hanging off the roof and grenade launchers out both windows. Dennis' rifle released a shocked crack and then all the cultists were openning fire on the blockade. Thomas yelled out over the noise, "Ackvick; we can protect you from Snyder."

Tobias Grey sat in the safety of the SUV, still smoking away and sounding incredibly panicked, "What's going on? What do we do?"

"Get in cover!" Ackvick yelled as the roar of the helicopters was heard.

A loud fwoosh was head, and the blue car blew up in a spectacular explosion from an anti tank rocket. Then the near-syncronous sound of two gattling cannons shredded into the cluster of cultists. Most of them exploded into perferated chunks of meat, some were alive but hit hard by the 20mm cannons. In a few seconds, all but a couple were bullet ridden corpses. Two H-10 Beast attack helicopters swooped over the scene, and circled around. Ackvick grinned. For once, he was glad of his crime structure. If it was as timids as Farmina's , they would be all dead. There was utter silence, except for the helicopters, running engines and the moans of the wounded. As Ackvick smiled and looked back at the officers, the officers snapped to, and pointed their guns at them.

"Are you unarmed, Ackvick?" the head officer said.

Ackvick nodded. "None of us are. We were running for our lives."

The head officer looked at the other officers. "Put down your weapons. Force Commander, you have a lot of explaining to do."

Alana walked up to the badly injured Thomas, who was ejected from the vehicle in the blast. "Who are you?" she asked.

"We are servants of Justinian," he whispered, "The Lord wishes us to ensure Snyder fails."

Alana crouched down. "The shadow?" she asked.

"No," said Thomas, "Cultists; not terrorists. There is a difference. Once a co-operation. But very different."

"But why are you fighting your own nation? Why fight us?"

"Because it is the will of Justinian," said Thomas, "And thus the will of God."

"And why would Justinian hate us for what we're trying to help with your nation?"

"Justinian does not bring you harm," said Thomas, "Our orders were to take the Force Commanders unharmed."

"We were going out of the country. I wish you didn't intefere," she said quietly. She felt sorry for the man.

"Justinian wants you to stay and fight," then Thomas didn't say anymore.

"When I said that we were leaving, I didn't mean forever. We will fight back."

She then got up. Meanwhile, Kaider walked up to Dennis. He was wounded, but also still alive, barely.

Tobias got out the car and threw away his cigarette, "Well that was one heck of a gun fight. What do we do now?"

Ackvick turns around. "I've explained the situation to them. They are going to take us to the Dylarsion Naval Base, and let us get to Task Force 1, posthaste. We must go quickly, before Snyder's forces arrive."

"What will happen to these people when Snyder does catch up?" said Tobias, "He's going to butcher then all."

"Not necessarely," Ackvick said. "If he did that, it would spark unrest. He'll have no choice but to leave them, spare demotions and reassignments of course."

"Could we take the helicopters?" said Tobias, "It strikes me that Synder might work out where we are going before we do."

"Very unlikely," Ackvick said, the two helicopters flying away in formation. "They are two seaters, attack only. We'd have to get a transport to do that, and in order to do that Snyder would probably find out."

"Makes you wish they were hinds, I bet."

"But a few police cruisers heading in different directions would be the second best thing."

"I only count four of us," said Grey, forgetting Alana and the three guards.

"What about me?" Alana spoke up as she walked toward the two men.

"So we travel with the police," said Grey, still ignoring Alana, "Hopefully we don't face anymore, cultists I assume, or any other nasty surprises on the way."

"Don't worry. I'm sure we're clear sailing from here. We better jet."

Kaider walked up to them. "Before he died, I talked to Dennis."

Ackvick turned to Kaider. "What did he say?"

"Reaction Corp setting a trap...for everyone."

"I've heard a lot about Reaction Corp. They make me nervous. But we better get heading to the Shipyards."

Ackvick then could see a large black vehicle driving down the road in the distance. "Now....!!!" Ackvick said passively in fear.

"Perhaps its full of Rickhart's blackshirts come to save the day," said Tobias, in forced optimism.

"Don't worry Tobias. I have a feeling that they will come in handy," Ackvick said hurriedly. Ackvick got into the back of a patrol car with Tobias, while the rest took some other cars. The cars sped off.

Ackvick sighed. "I'm going to need your help with this. You help me, I'll help you. If we can do this, both of our countries will be freed."

"I'll do my best," said Tobias, "As I'm sure you'll do your best against Reaction Corp."

"And Snyder..." Ackvick muttered.

--------

The APC pulls up to the wreakage from the pursuit, and the troops all come out of it. The helicopters were long gone. The Lieutenant approached the head officer. "We recieved reports of a large vehicle that we are looking for, being chased by police. Do you know anything about the drivers of this vehicle?"

"Sadly, there's nothing really left to interrogate. We have two what seem to be cultists awaiting medical evac, but the rest are completely wasted. They drove in these three vehicles."

The Lieutenant nodded. "Inform high command if you find a Tobias Grey, and the fugitive force commanders." He walked back to the APC with the rest of the group, and then stopped. He looked over to the side of the vehicle where a discarded cigarette laid. He picked it up. He then looked back at the police officer.

"Hiding anything, officer?" he said.

"Not at all."

The Lieutenant stared at her, looked at the cigarette, looked at her again, then hmmed. He then walked back to the APC, barking orders to embark. The officer looked at her partner. "This better not get out."

“Let us talk about something else,” said Dan Rickhart, looking over to Ryan Asbar and Dr Steinbeck, who were getting impatient with his endless ramblings, giving only vague clues to who killed Kerria Sirade.

“Daniel, you have yet to talk about the topic at hand, not to worry about a new topic,” commented Asbar, “You have recited Shakespeare, discussed page numbering, proved that circles are round, spoken Latin verse, reviewed the history of the Roman Empire and discussed, not to mention made demands, regarding your living conditions.”

“All completely relevant,” defended Rickhart, before adding more truthfully, “And not a single demand was excessive. I desire only simple things.”

“What do you want?” snarled the suspicious psychologist.

“Of the Messians, I inquire,” said Rickhart, “What is happening in their land?”

That struck Asbar as a strange question but he saw no harm in answering, “They appear to be down to one Force Commander, Snyder.”

“Snyder,” thought Rickhart, “So that is treachery’s name. Tobias is no longer safe.”

“I was wondering of Tobias Grey,” said Rickhart, “He is a dear friend and I wonder if he is well.”

“He is missing,” explained Asbar.

“How dare you!” exclaimed Rickhart in false rage, jumping from his seat, “To take me is one thing; to kidnap Tobias is quite another.”

“It was not us,” said Asbar, “Read my words and sense their truth.”

Rickhart sat down, giving the appearance of slow caution, “I sense truth in your words. I fear a dark hand in this; perhaps the Shadow, Cultists or even Justinian himself. I ask you that you find Tobias and bring no harm to him.”

Again alarm filled the psychologist’s hateful eyes, “What intrigue do you plot Rickhart?”

“Indeed Daniel,” commented Ryan Asbar, “What is it that you speak of?”

“I have a way to find Tobias Grey,” said Rickhart, “He has a tracker implanted in him…”

The Messian H-62 Rex transport helicopter approaches Task Force 1, stationed about 60 kilometers from the coast of Militia Enforced State. Ackvick looked down to see the massive ship, the MESV Final Victory, basking in his mammoth glory. He could easily see the 1.2KM long ship, with six tripple turrets, dual runways, and the thousands of souls on deck. The ship had a compliment of 10,000 crew.

Ackvick looked back at Tobias, who was also looking down. "That's the flagship. No offense, but this thing dwarfs anything you have, though probably fleet-wise you could outdo us," Ackvick said with a grin.

Tobias Grey looked down at the huge, no ridiculously huge, ship. “Must be compensating for something,” was on the tip of his tongue, but the former president had enough restraint not to mock the former force commanders.

“Quite an impressive behemoth,” noted Grey, “Must have emptied the wallet several times over.”

It was certainly a behemoth. “Certainly more massive than anything Farmina has,” said Tobias, unthinkingly adding, “Might as well paint a target on the side of it; you can’t make it any harder to hit.”

Ackvick smiled. "That said, its armor plating, and the fact that we use aircraft over battleships usually during a naval battle is the other part."

The helicopter swoops low over the fleet, and comes up to the massive four-pad helicopter landing pad, and comes down for a landing.

Tobias turned his attention to Ackvick, thinking to himself, “This man keeps his emotions in check very well. Perhaps too well.”

Caution again kicked in, “This man has seized me twice. I must be cautious around him, all or them. If I could not trust Dan, who can I trust?”

Then speaking aloud, as the helicopter firmly touched down, he commented, “Such a great ship; its amazing she floats. I suppose her size spreads out her mass.”

As the helicopter's blades spun to a stop, Ackvick unbuckled his seatbelt, and looked at Tobias. "I know you're probably suspicious of us by now, and quite frankly, I don't blame you. And how did I know you were thinking that? The look on your face gave it away."

“He is dangerous. He reads me like a book,” thought Tobias, and then realized that perhaps he had allowed his face to expose to much.

Grey unbuckled his seatbelt and trying harder to mask the emotions on his fleshy face, “If you can read faces; I should not want to play poker against you. However I see you as no master, there have been men you have failed to read, as there has been men that I have not read.”

The Reaction Corporation ships glided across the water; small vessels, built for speed. They bore no markings, but flew the flag of the Northern Colonies, on the pretence of being a corporation that stretched the globe, not just Farmina. Resting on their decks, sat helicopters, their pretence for peace; but their operation was war. Hidden from gaze, rocket attachments ready to deliver a devastating payload.

---

Meanwhile, onboard the Final Victory, Tobias Grey was wondering if Ackvick had actually thought this out, “Lord Ackvick, I hate to be rude, but what exactly are you planning to do next. It is not my intention to die an old man aboard this ship.”

Ackvick turned to Tobias, “That was where I was hoping you could help me. As you probably have noticed, my nation has fallen into some serious trouble, which I think is being done by members of your nation. No offence to that taken, I know we have a serious problem that we both need to correct.”

“In dark times the weak look to the strong and then are forever in their debt,” said Tobias, recalling the lessons of his beloved histories, adding on a sour note, “And then the strong betray the weak and take the winnings for themselves.”

Ackvick nodded, “Very true.”

“There is Palmer,” said Grey, “But your distrust of him shines like a golden idol. There are blackshirts but their eyes turn in another direction. Not to mention bad relations already stand between the Messians and the black-shirts; perhaps more bitter than those with the Liberals. Reaction Corp? They are a symbol of greed and profit, surely to repeat the lessons of history that I have just spoken. Cultists? They play their own game and their fanaticism to a single cause puts them beyond trust. Who then? This is the question you ponder, isn't it?”

“Perhaps,” Ackvick said. Then he grinned, “Are Farminans born with this poetic way of speaking about things?”
Michael says:
"My family had the ability to put me through the very best education," said Tobias Grey, with great pride, "It is a talent one learns with such high standards set."

He removed a cigarette from his pocket and placed it in his mouth, before lighting it. Tobias then reached into his pocket and removed a second one to offer to Ackvick, “Like we would live long enough to die of lung cancer.”

Ackvick chuckled, “If I smoked, I would accept. I don’t want to have breathing problems in the physically-demanding job of being both a politician and a military commander.”

Tobias put the cigarette pack in his pocket, “Well you’re paying for them. The way I formed the question before suffered a flaw. It looked merely at trust. Dan Rickhart would have been horrified at such a phrasing of the problem. Trust is a secondary issue. The issue we should be looking at first is power.”

“Not necessarily,” Ackvick interjected, “We need to be able to trust each other in order to deal with the power.”

“No point having trust in those who will fail you,” said Grey, “Trust is an issue; but not the first.”

“True,” Ackvick said, “So what do you plan for?”

“I am merely stating the question correctly,” said Tobias, “Of those we have discussed, it strikes me that alone, only Palmer has the power to certainly destroy Snyder. Reaction Corporation and the Cultists have the potential, but cannot do it alone. The black-shirts come last on the power scale, partly because their eyes look in another direction; but also because they are less devoted to battle than the rest.”

“But what if Snyder eliminates Palmer, or even if Palmer defeats Snyder?” asked Ackvick.

“And from that arises the second issue,” said Tobias, “Palmer is powerful enough to remove Snyder by himself. He has a great war machine to use as well as treachery of character. Why should he consider sharing the spoils? You are of neither use, nor do you bare leverage.”

“A cautious man does not ally those who are overwhelmingly strong,” added Grey, as though giving another of his historical notes.

“But...” Ackvick said shakily, “What if Snyder actually did ouster Palmer?”

Tobias considered that for a moment, “It would be a risky play. Perhaps it would stretch him further than he can afford to be stretched. It is a weakness of new rulers; that they bite off more than they can chew; then choke. Holding onto two nations would divide Snyder's forces. Farmina has never been a nation easily held.”

Ackvick nodded, “I wonder if Snyder would even attempt it.”

“Palmer might a have a weapon that would make even Snyder cringe,” said Grey vaguely.

“...And what weapon would that be?” Ackvick inquired.

“What do you know of Rickhart’s professional training?” asked Grey, deciding to give the long explanation.

“Nothing at all,” Ackvick said sheepishly.

“Daniel Rickhart went to university to study science,” said Tobias, “Chemistry and specifically pharmacology. The scientific approach followed him into his political career. However I get off track. The science is a little beyond me; but substances are made up of little moving parts according to Rickhart, molecules. The faster they move; the hotter they tend to be.”

“So the weapon has to do with heating molecules?” Ackvick inquired.

“Very specific molecules,” said Tobias, “It creates a frequency to maximise the oscillation of a single type of molecule, water.”

“So what does this weapon do exactly?” Ackvick was getting nervous about the weapon, but was not showing it.

“It increases the oscillation of all water molecules in a target radius,” said Tobias Grey, in a clear scientific manner one would expect of Rickhart, “Most intensely in the centre of the target area, creating a warming of the water, to a point above boiling.”

Ackvick thought for a moment, “Other than the fact that it would boil water in the targeted area, I’m guessing that the human body composition of water is the specific target of the weapon?”

It was now Tobias Grey’s turn to act sheepish, “We weren’t planning on boiling water. Our intention, what Rickhart planned to do was to heat up fuels; like petrol and hydrogen. Water was just a starting point from which to extrapolate, since water was in extensive supply. However we failed to develop any such frequency. So instead of blowing up the enemies fuel supply; we can now make large amounts of coffee.”

Ackvick chuckled, “Other then that usage, wouldn’t it work on human life?”

“Yes it would,” said Tobias, “Though I believe pure water would boil faster, due to lower impurities.”

Ackvick then shook his head, “Then the first plan of business is to take out that super weapon before it harms any of us, or other innocents.”

“I’m not exactly sure how we would do that,” said Tobias, “If Palmer has access to the frequency; he need not omit it from the original satellite. That is the heart of the weapon; just a frequency."

Ackvick shifted in his seat, “We also have our own super weapon, and this one just happens to have ASDS and AICBM capabilities.”

Ackvick paused, “Or more like all eight.”

“I have no idea what that means,” said Tobias Grey, “Can you boil water?”

“No,” Ackvick said, “More like incinerate it.”

“Can we deactivate these?” asked Tobias.

“Sort of,” Ackvick said, “Our satellites can only be authorised to be fired by Force Commanders only, and there’s also an ‘autodestruct’ of sorts that forces the satellites to burn up in the atmosphere. But when not armed, they remain dormant, collecting energy for their capacitors. The good news, is that terrorists shouldn't be able to break through its security. The bad, is that Snyder has those codes.”

“So you could force it turn burn up in the atmosphere?” asked Tobias.

“Yes, but that would require the authorization of three Force Commanders. And at the moment, unless we haven’t been removed yet from the authorization list, we can’t order their destruction.”

“Could they be shot down simultaneously?” asked Tobias, before stubbing out his cigarette.

“Of course they could,” Ackvick said, “That said, when the weapon is fired, it cannot be fired again until its capacitors are replaced. So simply firing the weapon may be sufficient for a delay.”

“How many Force Commanders does it take to fire the weapons?” asked Tobias.

“One,” responded Ackvick.

“Would your activation codes still work?” asked Tobias Grey, continuing his probing.

“I wouldn’t know until I try. But there’s a chance we could commit to the override,” Ackvick.

“But that would take time, enough to get someone to destroy the weapon satellites,” said Tobias Grey, “And I think I know how.”

“How?” Ackvick asked.

“If Palmer feels threatened by Snyder, he will be forced to cut Snyder down to size,” explained Grey, “And if we provide him with a way to give him super-weapon dominance over Snyder, he would almost certainly take it; covertly.”

Ackvick gave a look to Tobias, “As much as I agree with you, what keeps Palmer from using it against other countries, or even us from the fleet?”

“That seems to be the problem,” said Tobias, “But I doubt Palmer would want to risk excessive use of the frequency. It is very difficult to detect and decipher; but not impossible. Should someone else get the frequency they could also use this invisible, devastating weapon.”

“You mean it doesn't really need a true access code?” Ackvick said, “Isn’t that quite risky?”

“The satellite needs an access code,” said Tobias, “But should someone realise the frequency; they would replicate the weapon and hence the access code would be useless.”

Ackvick nodded, “Point taken.”

“Do you want me to destroy your weapon?” Ackvick said, “Before we destroy ours?”

“That might be easier said than done,” said Tobias Grey, “All our satellites look the same. We may just knock out a weather surveyor.”

Ackvick nodded, “Our weapon can be fired in bursts to conserve the capacitor. With the eight satellites, we could take out about 40 of them before they lose their charge.”

“I can’t support such a course of action,” said Tobias, “Not only is it the reckless destruction of Farminan property; there is a good chance we won’t get the correct satellite; and if we do, Palmer may just use another satellite to emit the frequency. Furthermore annoying the Farminan government is not the best course of action, I have ever heard.”

Ackvick began, “Yeah, we’ve made enough mistakes with your nation, and I apologise for...”

Suddenly, they felt a dull roar and felt a rumble underneath them. Just as suddenly, they heard a loud klaxon go off.

“That shouldn’t happen,” observed the President, rubbing his beard, pondering.

Ackvick stood up, “Definitely not.” He walked over to a communication terminal as he heard a voice over the loudspeaker, “Red Alert. Red Alert. Damage control teams to engine rooms two and three.”

---

The small Reaction Corp fleet continued on its course, a single helicopter flying above, moving towards the left wing of the Messian taskforce, as though to pass by. The flagship, NCS Grainboat signalled, “Grainboat to Final Victory, our spotter has noted a disruption aboard your ship. Can we help?”

The Admiral at the helm picked up his communicator. He thought for a moment. “Stand by. Please send your security codes while you wait.”

“Transmitting identification,” said the Grainboat captain, Samuel Larse.

The Messian Admiral received the codes as he received his damage report. The second and third engines were heavily damaged, leaving the other two engines left to power the behemoth. There were 13 dead and 29 wounded. He then checked the codes.

“These codes seem to be rather unusual. Are these the new codes?”

“New ships, new codes,” responded Captain Larse, “Would you like our assistance? We have plenty of medical supplies and food.”

A lieutenant walked up to Messian Admiral, “Medical teams are taking care of the injured. Although we seem to be handling the situation, would it hurt to get the supplies from them?”

The Captain thought, “Perhaps.” He picked up the communicator, “We thank you for your assistance. We would like the supplies, but we have more than enough manpower to take care of the situation.”

Captain Larse gave a nod to the his Communications Officer who began speaking into his comms set. Larse questioned, “May I enquire as who is in charge over there?”

“Admiral Thomas Berg of the Messian fleet Task Force One.”

“I was of the understanding that Force Commander Kaider is usually onboard the Final Victory,” noted Larse, “Is this true.”

Meanwhile the helicopters launched into the air, moving swiftly towards the Final Victory.

The Admiral saw the helicopters come closer, “Negative. I’m currently in command while Force Commander Kaider is dealing with critical matters.”

“Then you wouldn’t happen to have any large, former Presidents from Farmina aboard?” asked Captain Larse.

As he spoke, water was cannoned at the white flags of truce on the Reaction Corp ships; and the weak white dye ran to reveal what lay beneath; the blue fist of Reaction Corporation.

The Admiral was startled to see flags show their real colours, “Who the hell are you?”

“We know Tobias Grey is onboard,” said Larse sternly, “We suspect Force Commander Kaider is with him. Please tell the Force Commander, that Reaction Corporation offers him an alliance.”

As to underline the word ‘alliance’, rocket launchers dropped out of the bottom the helicopter's wings and the deck of the supposed cargo ships opened up to reveal cannons and missile launchers.

The Admiral’s face turned to horror as he saw this occur very suddenly, “All hands to battlestations!”

The Admiral heard a communicator beep. He looked back to see one of his bridge officers answering it, “Sir, it’s FC Ackvick.”

The Admiral walked up and picked up the communicator, “Berg here.”

“What the hell is going on up there?” Ackvick said.

“We’ve been surrounded by attack helicopters and a small fleet. They are no match, but they are asking for Kaider and Tobias,” said Admiral Berg.

There was a pause. “Why would they want Kaider?” Ackvick inquired out loud, “Admiral, tell them we are not on board. I know you’re a smart person, talk them out of it.”

“Aye, sir,” the Admiral said, hanging up, then moving to the main communicator. “Tobias Grey is not on board, and neither are the Force Commanders,” the Admiral said coolly.

Larse responded sternly, “We have been tracking Tobias Grey’s signal for some time now. And that you lie about the one convinces me you are prepared to lie about the other. The you should talk of all the Force Commanders; rather than just Kaider suggests they may be another on board. Now advise your Force Commanders that we have enough firepower to sink the Final Victory and destroy whatever hope it carries for the Mes. If this is not their preferred course of action; then I suggest they consider our offer of an alliance.”

The Admiral looked around at the other crew members. They had a small fleet, and it itself was no match for the fleet, but could they sink the Final Victory? He knew if he fired the first shot, the risk of losing the ship would be much less. The rest of the fleet had already moved into flanking position around the small fleet, so even if the Final Victory was attacked, the attackers would most surely be destroyed. But he rememberrf that he had one last card to play, and that was a communication he got from the fugitive Force Commanders.

“We have Tobias Grey, and he is under our control under the orders of Dan Rickhart, for Tobias Grey's safety,” responded Admiral Berg.

“Daniel Rickhart is dead,” said Captain Larse, “That is common knowledge. Now I suggest you put a Force Commander on the line.”

“Stand by,” the Admiral said. The communications officer cut out the signal. The Admiral picked up the communicator to Ackvick’s room, and hit the speakerphone button, “Options. Force Commanders and Tobias, we want you to listen into this too. We have a situation, Reaction Corp is planning on attacking the Final Victory if we don’t hand over Tobias.”

“I wonder what they are playing at,” said Tobias, “Although I am flattered that they think I am worth all this effort.”

“Me too,” Ackvick stated, “Admiral, I give you full permission to give them the middle finger, and blast them to hell. Right now they’re waiting for a response, and I don’t think it really matters if that message is done by lead instead of voice.”

“Must everything end with us blowing things to pieces,” said Tobias, “And we just talking about needing allies. When you blow this lot to pieces; surely you tell them of a great prize here; or worse draw Snyder’s hungry breath.”

Ackvick paused, “Belay that. Stand by.” Ackvick shut off the communicator. “Tobias, what do they want of you? What does Reaction Corp want of you?”

“Perhaps they want to put me back in the Parliament where I belong. Perhaps they don’t want me at all,” suggested Tobias Grey, “They seem just as interested in Force Commanders, from the little I have heard.”

“You’re right,” Kaider said, “Tell them that I’m heading to the bridge to speak to them.” As he said that, he moved out of the room.

The Admiral opened the comms frequency, “We have a Force Commander on board. He is coming up now.”

“And about time,” noted Captain Larse, “I was about ready to put your ship at the bottom of the ocean.”

Kaider stormed into the room, and picked up the communicator, “What is it that what you want?” He gave a couple of hand signals to the Admiral, ordering him to position the fleet for combat, and to prepare the gunners for battle.

“Lord Commander,” said Captain Larse, with so much respect that was not shown to the Admiral, one could nearly hear him bowing, “Lords in high places find disfavour with Lord Snyder; and have decided him unfit. We bring you the offer of a secret alliance against Lord Snyder; to bring him to his knees, to put fear in his eyes.”

Kaider was taken aback by the sudden change of tone of the man. He almost completely forgot about his preparations. Almost. He was signalled the ‘all ready’' by the Admiral as he stood. “First you threaten to sink this ship, perhaps the only loyalist fleet left, then ask for an alliance?! What happened with asking nicely?”

“Actually we asked nicely then threatened to sink the fleet,” noted Captain Larse, watching as the Messian fleet moved into position, “And if we didn’t threaten to sink the ship; you would never have admitted to being on the ship.”

Kaider cleared his throat. “Whether that was the case or not, I feel that your reasoning behind all this was malicious. Why would you want Tobias Grey back, other than the fact that he was kidnapped? We took him by request from his friend, not because we felt like it.”

“Tobias Grey is a secondary concern,” said Larse, “However if we can get him back to his office, all the better.”

“And why do you want Snyder out of power, other than the turmoil that he’s causing back at home?” Kaider asked.

“Profit,” said Larse, “The Lords see business opportunities if a favourable government is installed.”

Kaider scoffed, with the mic off. He then flipped it back on, “If you want profit, then you came to the wrong country. Our nation has government run business."

“Your nation has Snyder run business now,” observed Larse, twisting the knife.

Suddenly, the comms channel came alive, “This is Force Commander Jason Snyder from Task Force 2. Surrender at once or be destroyed, corporate scum.”

The Admiral jumped. He didn’t even know that the task force was so close by, but was even more surprised by Snyder’s appearance.

Kaider looked to the horizon and noted the glimpse of specs on the horizon.

“An alliance!” insisted Larse, “All groups; change of target. Taskforce 2 is primary target.”

Kaider picked up the communicator, “Very well. Take Snyder out.”

“Helicopters, return to main battlegroup,” instructed Larse, “Long range Xenon missiles target Snyder’s flagship, fire on my count. Submarines, hold position. Main battle group, move back.”

“RC Units, move in front of your fleet with your faster ships, and move to flank. Fire on my order,” instructed Kaider, as he watched patiently as Task Force 2 came closer.

“I hope we have an understanding Kaider,” said Larse, before he turned to his comms officer, “Liberty, Alexander; move to the Messian west flank."

He paused for several moments then noted Snyder’s distance, jumping Kaider’s mark, “All Xenox missles, on my count....count.”

Then the four heavier ships, each released two of their long range missiles at Snyder’s flagship. Snyder saw the missiles coming. It was planned, “Fire the flak spread. Full spread. Mark.”

The hundreds of machine gun and flak cannons on the fleet near-simultaneously fired at the missiles. As they approached, a missile got destroyed. Then another. Then another.

“Hold fire,” Snyder said, as the missiles neared the ship, “Let it through.”

The missile streaked in and struck the Punisher class cruiser EDFV Punisher in the front hull, blowing up a turret, and damaging the hull. The ship shook violently and roared in protest from the explosion. He could see some of his crewmembers dead, some injured. He himself was knocked down from the blast, but quickly got up.

Kaider saw the ships in range. The other cruisers pointed their guns at them. Kaider grinned, “Get rid of those scum. Fire.” Kaider said, pointing at his targets. The guns on the Final Victory and seven other ships roared as they fired at their intended targets.

Larse turned white as he realised he had been betrayed. The eighteen inch shell slammed into his ship; throwing him to the floor as it tore a great hole in the side.

“Bastard,” exclaimed Larse, grabbing his microphone, “You treacherous bastard Kaider. You will pay for this.”

He then switched channels as he felt his ship quickly descend, “Lord Snyder we surrender. The Force Commanders and Tobias Grey are aboard the Final Victory.”

Snyder picked up his communicator. “I know. And you fell for my trap. Ever predictable. Now die for your crimes.”

Getting to his feet, as his ship desperately fired its cannons as the ship went down, Larse gave orders to his ruined fleets, “To the death!”

They were fateful words, as one of the flaming helicopters dived into the ocean. Larse removed his pistol from his belt. He rested its barrel gently on his bottom lip, repeating, “To the death,” then pulled the trigger.

The submarines lay dormant on the sea bed, as the Liberty broken in half at the impact of a shell. The two remaining helicopters spurred rockets with great speed, but another Messian missile hit them one, another flaming wreck to join the sinking fleet. The ruined Montecarlo; the second last ship still firing; but with more holes than another, suddenly exploded; the heart of the ship becoming a fireball.

The Messian fleet kept their fire up as the enemy returned fire. The Thunder class cruiser MESV Instigator was hit by a rocket and a few shells. It took severe damage but stayed afloat.

Then another rocket found its target and the last helicopter fell from the air; joining the sinking metal. The Alexander kept firing in hopeless desperation; but it was already sinking and its cannons soon ceased to fire.

Snyder picked up his communicator. “Is it done?” he asked.

Kaider picked up his communicator. “It has been done, milord,” Kaider replied, “There are survivors, what are your orders?”

---

There had been a whole lot of blasts and then silence. Tobias Grey looked over at Ackvick, “Is this how Kaider usually negotiates?”

Ackvick shrugged, “They looked like they were up to something. What that is, I'm not even sure about.”

---

“Kill them all. Make sure none escape alive,” Snyder said darkly, “They will suffer for those who they killed.”

“Yes, milord,” Kaider said, motioning to the Admiral to shoot the survivors, “Anything else?”

Snyder was silent for a moment, “I’m guessing that if Reaction Corp had anything to do with the Shadow, they would have submarines. It’s best if we were safe and dropped a wide field of depth charges on our way out. Variable depth.’”

‘Yes, milord,” Kaider said, as he motioned again, “What about the three men?”

“Keep them thinking,” Snyder said, “Let them think you’re on their side. Make sure none of this gets out to them. If they know too much....kill them all.”

With that, the communications died. The two fleets started to manoeuvre to drop depth charges, as Kaider took a speed lift to the back of the ship. As he arrived, he could see the soldiers on deck looking down to the survivors.

The submarines did not take long to realise they were about to be attacked. The propellers began to move, as several spreads of torpedoes shot up toward TaskForce 1.

A klaxon went off on the bridge, startling the Admiral, “Sir, we have fast-moving sonar contacts heading towards the surface! Torpedoes!”

The Admiral jumped, “Evasive manoeuvres! Get our subs underwater, and continue depth charge spread!”

As this happened, Kaider watched the soldiers take aim at the survivors. Some of them plead. Kaider shook his head, “Fire.”

With the loud bunch cracks of rifles, the water turned red.

Deep below, the barrage of depth charges; steel was no match and the submarines cracked and burst; the crews doomed to a horrid death.

---

Tobias Grey paced back and forwards, perhaps it was restraint in cigarettes; but something was biting him. He distrusted all Messians, but something wasn’t right. “Why would Reaction Corp attack us?” asked Tobias of Ackvick and Dasch, “It would be unprofitable.”

Just as he said that, Kaider walked into the room. “They apparently wanted Snyder out of power because they wanted to change the MES’s consumerism policies.”

“I see,” said Tobias, as though realising the truth, but lying behind his mask.

Kaider looked toward the three men. Dasch was sitting quietly with Alana, not really paying attention to much. “Alright, the four of you, you need to get into hiding on board. Snyder’s Task Force 2 has arrived, and he’s wanting to inspect Task Force 1 after the incident.”

Ackvick looked with shock at Kaider, “Snyder?! Does he know you’re here? You were on comms!”

“I doubt it, my communications were focused,” Kaider replied, “I’ll take you to a room in the ship that should be safe for the time being.”
“Could I request a weapon?” asked Tobias, “Being armed with a pack of cards, some cigarettes and a lighter, is barely a brilliant defence.”

“Of course,” Kaider said, leading them out of the room. They walked down the hall up to a metal closet on the side. He typed in a code key, and the door made a thunk from the lock releasing. Kaider pulled open the door to reveal a large number of pistols and clips, and two C1 grenades.

Kaider grabbed two pistols, as did Ackvick and Dasch. Alana and Tobias took one. He also grabbed an extra clip and a grenade. “Ah I remember my military days. Never had to worry about shooting someone but.”

Kaider slid the locker shut, “Okay, this way. Let’s hurry.”

---

Snyder sat down in his executive office on the Final Victory, after doing an inspection. He wanted to check up on his new office on the ship, and he also wanted to send Palmer a message.

To: President James Palmer
From: Force Commander Jason Snyder

Hello. After much thought, we will accept your offer for having Reaction Corp as a part of our security force. I am looking for a large contingent to come here. Please specify when they will be arriving, as security is extremely tight here since the blast.

Thank you again for the offer.

-Force Commander Snyder

Snyder shut the laptop. He had a boat to return to.

Jamie Palmer watched the satellite feed on the screen carefully as he reviewed the document on agricultural policy. Reaction Corp seemed to move to guard TaskForce 1, then the fighting broke out and TaskForce 1 turned its cannons around. “Treachery,” thought Palmer, “My allies are now turning against each other.”

Snyder against Reaction Corporation. It seemed a one sided match. But what happened between TaskForce 1 and the Reaction Corp fleet; that was the issue of interest.

He turned his head from the feed; and stood up, stretching out his long muscular body, before looking out the window of his private retreat, “What indeed is happening? What interested Reaction Corporation?”

Palmer turned around to the sound of Timothy entering the room, “Ah, do you bring any interesting news?”

Timothy was by far Jamie’s favourite operative, they had so much in common; they had shared so much…

“It seems Reaction Corp has been tracking Tobias Grey,” said Jamie, moving his red hair out of his eye.

“That could explain it,” said Jamie, standing eye level with his operative, “It appears Snyder and Reaction Corporation came to blows in the middle of the ocean.”

Jamie’s computer made a beep, and Timothy took the liberty of viewing the cause of this noise. Talking with his sweet, camp voice, Timothy said, “Speak of the devil; perhaps literally. Snyder wants Reaction Corp forces. It appears we do not need to implement our plan after all.”

Jamie carefully examined Timothy’s long, muscular body, “Then we better contact Reaction Corporation. I’m sure they will take precautions in sight of this latest exchange.”

Timothy nodded, his blue eyes twinkling, “I am still cautious of this Colonial visit to meet Snyder.”

“Indeed,” said Palmer in his sweet, camp voice, “But if Northern Colonies or Snyder think they can move against us they are fools. We have an arsenal to bring them to their knees.”

“The kettle,” commented Timothy, using the knick name for Tobias Grey’s half baked super weapon.

“No,” said Jamie, stepping up to Timothy, clarifying they were the same height and build, “I would not use that. I have something else in mind.”

“That would be unpleasant. Perhaps caution is our greatest weapon,” suggested Timothy

“How wonderful he is,” thought Jamie Palmer, as dropped his lips onto Timothy’s, “It is like looking into a mirror.”

The double’s lips met Jamie’s lips; one man a perfect substitute for the other.

---

To Force Commander Jason Snyder

Reaction Corporation is prepared to supply a large force; to land on Messian in four weeks. They however have asked of me, that you make no further move to butcher their forces, rogue captain or otherwise.

James Palmer
President of the Republic

Dan Rickhart tapped his fingers loudly on the table, “I have given you the name of the black-shirt with my files. Those files have the fullest truth. Find Peter and you will realize who killed Kerria Sirade.”

The name ‘Peter’ had been the best clue Rickhart had given Ryan Asbar so far, or so he had thought, “Daniel, my dear Daniel, we found your friend Peter, but he had already passed on the envelope, without reading it, to a lady named Lisa. We tried to gain her location, but Peter died in interrogation.”

“So the plan is going as I have foreseen. Well done Lisa, you are indeed clever,” thought Rickhart, before declaring sternly, “I don’t know where Lisa is either. She knew to go into hiding on my disappearance.”

There was a knocking on the door; Asbar stood up, opened the door, and upon hearing hushed whispers stepped out, sealing the door behind him. Doctor Steinbeck turned his thick glasses towards Rickhart, his white teeth exposed as his lips moved, “What are you planning Rickhart? You may charm Asbar, but I see you for what you are commoner!”

“Commoner!” mocked Rickhart, “People have more fear of me than ever of you. People have more respect for me than ever of you. More people know my name than will ever know yours. I am more of a man you will ever be, and you dare speak of commonness!”

Doctor Steinbeck recoiled for a moment, then hissed, “I know what Palmer did to you again and again. You are a man no more.”

That hit Rickhart hard; that was the grim reality for Rickhart, he had endured the greatest dishonour, the most demeaning fate a Farminan ever could have.

Rickhart however knew what to say next, “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill every last one of you Reaction Corp fools. On the night of the full moon, my cell shall no longer hold me. I shall slay all those who have imprisoned me; the corridors shall fill with blood and building shall come to flame. And you my dear, Doctor will die first. You will see your guts fall out of your stomach and the skin pealed from your body. Know that I am coming Doctor and fear me as I should be feared!”

Doctor Steinbeck fell silent, his face turned white, his mind thinking “Rickhart believes what he says is truth. He is the danger I warned of. If only I can convince the others.”

Asbar returned to the room as silently as he left, walking over to Rickhart, “Daniel, the powers that be have decided to end the investigation into the death of Kerria Sirade. It is clear you are not talking; and so barely worth the resources.”

Asbar then walked right up to Rickhart; before slamming a pain amplifier into his neck and held it there, “We don’t need you any more.”

For ten seconds there was silence then Rickhart coughed, “Cardinal Borusa,” as him mouth turned red with blood.

Asbar removed the pain amplifier from Rickhart’s throat, his face full of shock disappointment, “Why didn’t you tell us the killer was dead? We would not have wasted a second on this to begin with.”

“He’s planning to kill us,” said Steinbeck, “At the next full moon.”

“When I turn into a werewolf,” added Rickhart sarcastically, “And then after I kill you, I’’ spend the rest of the night howling at the moon through my blood soaked teeth. I know you want me dead Doctor Steinbeck, but must you speak this nonsense about me.”

“Indeed,” said Asbar, mildly annoyed, “Doctor Steinbeck, I know you of your concerns about Daniel, but this is getting ridiculous. Full moons? Werewolves? What next; Sarzonians?”

“I didn’t mention werewolves, he did,” retorted Steinbeck, “Actually he said it all. He said he would kill him us all on the full moon; so we must kill him first.”

“We are not killing Daniel Rickhart, or doing anything else due to the phase of the moon,” responded Asbar, “Lord Palmer has given us some very important information to Roger Hanshuck and they have been comparing notes; they are worried. Lord Palmer insists on having Rickhart’s opinion.”

Asbar through a file of documents down in front of Rickhart, “Transmissions from our ships makes Kaider appear a double agent loyal to Snyder. Snyder attacked Reaction Corp then asks for its aid. Northern Colonies is behaving in a peculiar fashion and has had dialogue with Snyder. Snyder somehow managed to get Tobias Grey. Elite opinion thinks this may spell war.”

Rickhart skimmed the documents quickly, saying dismissively, “I have little time for elite opinion.”

Rickhart removed communications logs to the Reaction Corp fleet and placed it along side communications from the Colonials, “Elite opinion states either what is too theoretical to be the practical truth or what is too plausible to be the reality of the matter.”

Asbar sighed in relief; then Rickhart added, “When elite opinion has become criticised for the two previous; elite opinion then states what has long been obvious to the common man as revolutionary truth.”

Rickhart flicked through a couple more documents concluding, “The common man, should he see these documents would believe that Farmina is on the verge of war.”

“So we are going to war,” resigned Asbar miserably, “Lord Palmer will not be happy.”

“But, I have a plan,” said Rickhart, with an evil grin, yet this grin was also enticing to those who desired success.

A look of lust came onto Asbar’s face. A concerned Steinbeck noted immediately, “Since when did we get advice from the enemy?”

“Daniel is our friend when the Mes is our enemy,” said Asbar, calmly, “Lets hear your plan.”

Rickhart smiled back, “It is simple enough…”

---

Three Hours Later

“You can’t do this to me,” yelled Rickhart, struggling as the Reaction Corporation guards dragged him back towards his cell, “I’ve told you everything.”

“Its exactly because you’ve told us everything that we can do this,” smirked Ryan Asbar, walking slowly behind Rickhart.

Then with a cruel touch, he removed his phone from his pocket and dialed. There was a period of silence, then Asbar said, “Lord Palmer, I have good news; we have a plan; so meat is back now on the menu, complements of Reaction Corp.”

“NO!” yelled Rickhart, tears brimming his eyes as he struggled more; though his anger was diluted by the fact that this had been foreseen; that inevitably Palmer would regain his toy…

One day before the fugitives’ escape to the Final Victory…

The men are escorted into the conference room. Unlike the rest of the building, it was clean and fixed up, for obvious reason. A chair at the end of the table was facing backwards. "I've been expecting you," a voice said. The two men face the voice. The chair swiveled around. "My name is Force Commander Jason Snyder. Please be seated."

"Thank you," replied the two men, as they moved to find their seats.

"So what is your business in this great country?"

Snyder bridged his hands, elbows on the table.

"Well, may I first say, if I would be able get a tour of this great country?" the PM asked, before continued. "Now, business."

He pulled out a copy of the Colonial Daily. On the front page, the article read 'Reaction Corps signs deal with government, becomes political commissar.'

"For the first part, I'm sure I can arrange something. So what are you expecting of me?" Snyder asked.

"Well," the PM said. "Let me reiterate our stance on this matter. We do not support James Palmer as the President of Farmina. I'm sure that is your stance too."

"I will just say that I think we have a common goal, mister prime minister."

"Call me John," he replied. "And yes, I believe so. Unless you had other plans."

"What were you thinking for an idea?" Snyder inquired.

"Well," the PM replied. "I believe it is pretty oblivious, for both of our countries interest to..." He stopped for a few seconds, before saying sinisterly, "Eliminate Parmer".

"How do you plan on going about this, John?" Snyder said.

"The Government of Farmina is currently a minority government. Minority Governments have a tendency to fall when put under a bit of pressure," the PM said.

"Very true, but what manner were you considering of removing him from power?"

"Well, I am not going to give you exact details," he said. "But first of all, may I ask, do you still have troops in Farmina."

"Yes, I do," Snyder said.

"Well, I want you have some of your men to have this leaflet." He passed a sheet. On it were some oblivious photoshopped images of Jamie Palmer flaunting the sodomy laws in Farmina

"And I also want you to distribute this." He passed another sheet. This sheet had also photoshopped images of Tobias Grey holding the 'Shadows History of Farmina'

Snyder looked at the men with one eyebrow raised. "Is this really an effective plan? How many people would fall for it? And wouldn't it be easy for them to figure out that it was photoshopped?"

"No matter how stupid it may seem, there will always be some idiots who would blindly believe this," he said. "The purpose of this is not to cause the downfall of Palmer, just yet. It is to cause some sort of controversy."

"I was personally thinking of something more....let's say, forceful?"

"What do you mean?" The PM asked. "Alex is a pacifist by the way."

"I was thinking...combined, we could crush this Farminan corruption and internal strife once and for all, make it a great country once again like ours."

"A war?" He asked

"I wish there was a more rosy way of putting it," Snyder commented.

"Well, its funny," he replied. "We were discussing a prospect of war. Although Farmina may seem weak, it may just be a sleeping giant. A broken, sleeping giant. But I fear if we attack it, it would attach itself and start attack us ferociously."

"Which is why with the combined might, we could topple it. We have a strong military compared to our national population, and with yours we would outnumber them."

"I'm sure we can also find additional allies."

"Allies, too," he said grimly. "People could rally to Farmina's cause. They'll accuse us of warmongering."

"I disagree. That nation has been fighting so many wars on itself and against others during the past decade that that itself is an excuse to set things straight."

"You would be surprised," he replied.

"Probably. But that does not leave the fact that Palmer is a dangerous man. He even decapitated a human being on live TV. Even if the person was the shadow, the act itself is sick. And I also know that Palmer IS a sodomist."

"Indeed," he said, nodding.

"So what is the plan?"

"Hmm.." he said. "You do realize that any war plans need to go through our parliament?"

"Of course. Have you been planning any sort of military action?"

"Well," he said. "Not really."

Snyder thought for a moment. "Are you willing to go all the way?"

"I know I am" he said. "And I'm convinced that the parliament will vote for. The opposition leader seems to support this too."

"Very well. When you are ready, I want you to make the first move."

"But, going through parliament takes time,” he said. "You do realize that?"

"That is fine. I'm a patient man. As long as it doesn't take too long and jeopardize my mission."

"A fortnight," he said. "And its public viewing, so the media will report it."

"Do not report our involvement. Otherwise you will be the ones paying the price, not Farmina."

"It is crucial for the element for surprise."

"We can not make the media not report that a bill for democracy is on the table. That is the cost of democracy," the PM replied.

"Who said that you have to vote for joint action? Just state military action and you'll be able to do it with no one the wiser."

"If Farmina got the wind of this, we're both done."

"That is what we intend to do," the PM replied. "Military Action in Farmina, due to suspect election results."

"Very good. If there is no mention of us, the plan will go ahead. If there is any mention of us, you will have more than egg on your faces."

"It's not a threat. It's a promise."

"Indeed," he said.

"Was there anything else, John?"

"No, that probably would be it," he replied. "Maybe we could discuss a alliance deal or something."

"True, but that can wait. You wanted a tour, do you not?" Snyder said, smiling.

"Yes," he replied, as he, and Alexander began to stand up.

--------
The motorcade sped through the street. The 7 car motorcade consisted of a police motorcycle, then a police cruiser. Following the cruiser was a crack military bodyguard team for Snyder. Behind it was a SUV, carrying the members from the Federal Investigation Bureau, Uniformed Division, Diplomatic and Ministerial Protection Branch. Behind it was the limousine, carrying Force Commander Snyder, The Prime Minister of the Northern Colonies, John Anderson, and the Minister for Foreign Affairs, Alexander Peters. Behind the limousine, was the other element from the Protection Branch, then followed by Task Force 2, then the police cruiser, then a police motorcycle. Inside the limoscene, the PM was talking with Snyder, about MES.

"So, what is the structure of your military?" Asked the PM.

"Our military is run by our Force Commanders, which then filter down the chain of command from the Generals to the three branches of military, army, air force, and navy."

"Ah right," he replied. "And what about your democratic process to have the 'checks and balances' for the military."

Snyder cleared his throat. "Us Force Commanders are the checks and balances. Our recruitment follows a very stringent guideline of rules, and we make the decisions for the entire country."

"Hmm.." he replied. "Dictatorships don't really make good governments, and what’s to stop a Task Force or a unit from rebelling?"

"Well, we just arrested two Force Commanders for treason recently. They and any other traitors to our cause would be executed. We are very strict about treason. And we also aren't a true dictatorship, as our rule consists of seven Force Commanders."

"Who are not democratically elected," replied he PM, critically.

"That said, we have a ten-thousand page document with specific rules of how Force Commanders are chosen. We are also trained, and anyone deviating from the rules would be charged with treason. Personally, I think that's enough reason to not deviate from the rules."

"Oh, you never know," replied the PM. ”I did a bit of psychology when I was at uni. There are ways that people can have power to change the decisions of others.”

Snyder nodded, and said no more, waiting for the next topic. The PM, noticing the response, changed the subject immediately. "What about the Education system?"

"One of the best in the world. We help teach our people about the world around us, how important the individual is, and our nation's bloody history. Of course the other usual school subjects too."

"As in the structure," the PM replied.

"My apologies," Snyder said sheepishly. "There is a 13 grade primary and secondary school system, and a free College and University system, to get our people the best chances to succeed."

"Ah," the PM replied.

The PM sat there for a few moments, before having a look outside. "It's a nice place."

"It is. The marks of the great war have faded into the countryside. As well, you should see the coast and countryside. We have some amazing views if you're ever looking for a vacation."

"Ha," the PM replied. The Foreign Minister had been sitting there, letting the PM get the limelight. He decided that he need to push something of his own.

"We've asked a couple of questions, now its your turn."

Snyder chucked. "Very well, what is your nation like?"

"A liberal democracy," the PM replied. "Very nice place to live it. Hardly any crime, good money to be made."

Snyder smiled. "A liberal democracy? Does it have the corruption that generally plagues the government type?"

"Surprisingly no," the PM replied. "At least, we don't know of any."

Snyder chuckled again. "What about Farmina then? They are a prime example why democracy's don't work."

"While your at it, look at nations like Sarzonia, who are also liberal democracies," the PM retorted. "The reason why Farmina doesn't have a working democracy is because it's population are not tolerant enough. That's the other aspect of democracies. Farmina has been scarred too much be wars, and religious and political conflict. And this isn't just the parliament conflict. It goes outside. Look at the Reaction Corps, the Blackshirts. The go out, killing everyone who opposes them. With that kind of fear, democracies will not work."

"Which is why we need to stop them," Snyder said.

"But how?" Replied the PM, before the Foreign Minister continued. "It is like hitting a nut with a sledgehammer."

"Pull out their government and loyal forces, and put in a new, centrist government."

"And what if the people don't agree, start an insurgency?" Questioned the Foreign Minister.

"I'm sure we can influence them to stop their call to arms," Snyder said. "I'm a very influential man."

"I don't think you influence steps that far," replied the Foreign Minster.

"I have my ways," Snyder said bluntly.

"Ways?" Questioned the Foreign Minster.

"I'm a very influential man," Snyder repeated.

"What type of influence?" The PM, came in

"All types," Snyder replied.

"Right," replied the PM, unconvinced.

The vehicle pulled up to a traffic light, as it turned red. It came to a stop as the men looked around. Snyder then saw a car behind him. It was the car he was looking for. Snyder casually looked behind him to act, and feigned shock. "Get down!" Snyder yelled, as the people in the car behind them opened fire with machine guns. Screams could be heard as the bullets were whisking though. John Ebony, the senior bodyguard to the two Colonist immediately pushed the PM and the Foreign Minister to the floor of the car, whilst simultaneously pulling out his MP7 Sub-Machinegun. As the goons in the car shot into the limo, another car came up to the side, and fired into the limo.

The PM noticed the marking of Reaction Corp on them. 'Reaction Corp?' The PM thought. He didn't get a chance to have a second look as Ebony leaned on his face and began firing on the car. The two cars immediately in front and behind the limo, carrying the FIB agents, began to open fire at the goons. As the Messian and Limo escorts fired on the attackers, the cars drove off, wheels squealing, leaving the bullet-ridden cars and SUV's behind.

Snyder climbed up from the low seat, and sat down proper. He did a quick look around. "It's clear," Snyder said.

The agents opened there doors and began holing defensive positions. "Secure the area!" One of then shouted. "Yes Sir!" They replied.

In the limousine, Ebony stood up, allowing the two Colonists to stand up. "Everyone ok?" He asked.

"Yea, we're fine," the PM and Foreign Minister replied.

Snyder grunted as he stumbled out of the car. "Damn Reaction Corp! They will pay for this!"

"What the hell are they doing here?" The PM questioned, as he began straightening himself out.

"I don't know,” Snyder said, “But I have a feeling that they were involved in the Command Center bombing."

"Hmm.." he replied. He had a look at Ebony. He face showed the strength of a lion, ignoring the multiple cuts on his face. "We need a medic!" He shouted.

Moments later, an attack helicopter arrived, circling the scene. Snyder got up and picked up his communicator. "Command, we need medical personnel at Wellington and 21st, immediately."

Snyder turned to the PM. "Is that enough reason to get rid of Reaction Corp, and Palmer?"

He turned slowing to Snyder, nodding. "Then you better get back to your nation so we can deal with this problem."

"When you can get us another car," he said, pointing out the fact that the bullets had smashed though the limousine's engine.

Two additional helicopters is heard as they spoke. Snyder looked up to see an executive transport, and a medivac helicopter. "You know what one we're going into," Snyder said.

"I do," the PM replied, looking at the executive transport.

--------
The plane trip was mentally exhausting, for both the men, as the effect of the attack was absorbing into their brains. John Ebony sat on the chair beside the PM, covered in bandages. There was no talking needed, the mood was clear.

‘We will be at war in a few hours,’ thought Alex, a devoted pacifist. ‘All those warmongers, bastards! And now men will die, and I have to vote to agree to this. But is it right, should we invade, because they tried killing us. And what if we lose and Farmina attacks us. What will happen? What will…’

The thought chain was interrupted by a buzz sound, indicating that seatbelts were needed. The plane descended as the downward thought train started again.

--------
Snyder looked up as a Lieutenant walked into his office. The door was now stuck open, and he ordered to have it replaced once all critical repairs were finished.

“Very good work, Lieutenant. I am very pleased with your operation.”

The Lieutenant saluted. “Thank you mi’lord. Everything went to plan.”

Snyder chuckled. “That was also some very good and accurate shooting. You didn’t kill anyone, but shook them up enough to not realize what was done.” Snyder leaned forward onto his desk. “They think the Reaction Corps sprung the trap. It’s perfect evidence.”
--------
Two weeks later, Parliament House
1100 hours ZULU
(12 hours after the attack on the Final Victory)

“WAR WAR WAR!” Shouted John W. Bush. Many of his party, the Democratic Party shouted the same words in reply.

“Order, Order, Order!” The Speaker of the House shouted, “We will not be interrupted by the Opposition Party’s antics.”

The Emergency Parliamentary Session was taking place. Although it seemed that John W. Bush and his party was the only party interested the war, the other ministers were slowly agreeing that war was inevitable, and they did not want a repeat of the events in MES in the Northern Colonies. At the end of the day, votes were taken for the Bill.

“480 votes to yes, 10 votes to no, and 10 votes abstained. Bill passes through to the senate,” told the Speaker.

--------
Later that Day

The Senate had a calmer fill. As the house with only 51 members, compared to the 500 in the House of Representatives, the members were more capable of reasoning compared to the sensationalist-influenced House.

“This act, the attempted assignation of our two leaders ought to be investigated before we act in a way, that could threaten the lives of our men,” told one of the Democrat Senators.

“But, preliminary analysis seems to suggest that Reaction Corporation was involved and it goes right up to the top. Lord Palmer owns a small share of the Corporation,” said another, a Labor Senator.

There was a large knock on the door, as the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod open the door. A man appeared, a clerk working for the parliament. In his hand was a box, to be delivered to the Parliament of the Northern Colonies from the Office of the Force Commander, MES.

“Give it to the President of the Senate,” told the Usher.

“Yes, Sir,” replied the Clerk.

He walked up to the President and dropped the box onto his table. The President opened the box. In it was a video. Fortunately, a video was recently install in the chamber, for such things as media reports that would require a video to be played before bills were deliberated. The President inserted the video in.

It was an ocean in place. It must have been calm, as there were hardly any waves. Across the corner of the camera were ships. Small ships, but capable of carrying helicopters. Suddenly the motion of the camera changed and the ships identity was reviled, carrying the Northern Colonies Flag. The helicopter readied its missiles, showing her true intentions. Moments later, it showed them uncovering their flag, showing the flag of the Reaction Corps. After a lengthy period of video, it switched to another camera showing the Reaction Corps fleet firing anti-ship missiles at the ships. Then it switched to another camera where it recorded one of the missiles striking a Messian capital ship. After, it switched to video of the Messian fleet engaging them, sinking the ships.

During the video, narrative played, voiced by Force Commander Snyder: ”During fleet movements, Northern Colony flagged Reaction Corps ships engaged the Messian Task Force 1 in an unprovoked attack against our nation. Fifty one men and women were killed and one-hundred two wounded in the initial terrorist attack on our flagship’s engines, and an additional thirty-three men and women were killed and twenty-nine injured when Task Force 2, responding to the threat, was engaged and the flagship of the fleet was struck by an anti-shipping missile. The offending vessels were destroyed, but this act was an act of war.”

Shocks were heard as the video played. At the end of the video;

“We will now vote on to whether to reject to accept the bill,”[/i] the President said…

--------
During the Senate Meeting

Task Force Alpha was moving toward Farmina. An combination of three Fleets (Which consists of 2 Battle Groups per fleet) from New Freedom Naval Base, it had been steaming for three weeks, and was only a day away from its location, 20kms out from Farmina’s maritime borders. The Commander of the Task Force was also in fact the commander of the New Freedom Naval Base, Vice Admiral Georges O’Brien.

On land, all the Corps from I Corps to X Corps were joined together to create the First Colonial Army, under the Command of General John Fitzgerald. It was then a problem was discovered. The Northern Colonies Air Force’s largest transporter was the C-5 Galaxy. However, only a maximum of two M1 Abrams could be carried. The General sighed. This could be a major problem. Fortunately, the Joint Chiefs had thought that could happened, and they also knew that could probably lease off the bigger transports of the MES.

TO: FC Snyder
FROM: Joint Chiefs of Staff, Northern Colonies
SUB: Leasing transports.

We request the leasing of four of your heavy transports, as we do not have the capability to be able to carry our tanks on our current transports. You will be paid NC$1 Million per plane per day for the length of the lease.

Yours Sincerely,
Adm. Fleet Patrick Robinson SGNC MC DSC
Chief of the Colonial Armed Forces.

--------
Snyder received the message, and send off his reply:

--------
TO: Joint Chiefs of Staff, Northern Colonies
FROM: FC Snyder
SUB: Re: Leasing transports.

We will allow this request, supplying you with six tankers, a squadron of heavy lift transports, and we will price this very well as a thank you for your support.

[b]Yours Sincerely,
Force Commander Jason Snyder
Militia Enforced State [b]
--------

Snyder closed his laptop. He looked out his cabin window of his personal flagship the EDFV Punisher. Things were going exactly to plan. He would play the video on all media sources once his fleets were in position. His was circling over to the far left flank of the Farminan nation, while Task Force 1 took position near the center. The NC would be covering the east flank. As long as they stayed in international waters, and stayed far enough apart and went in a heading parallel to Farmina, his fleet shouldn’t be detected. At least…not immediately. Now he had his fleets do ‘fleet exercises’ to keep attention from them, while he waited for the Northern Colonies to declare war, so they could get the jump on those Goddamned Farminans.

--------
An hour after Snyder's departure, Kaider knocked, then opened the door to see the two Force Commanders and Tobias waiting in the small room they were hiding in. They had guns drawn, and then lowered when they recognized him. “You took a big risk to stay out there when Snyder was here,” Ackvick said.

Kaider smiled. “Well, I stayed out of sight anyways. It’s easier to be undetected as one person, instead of five. As well, this is a big ship.”

Ackvick chuckled. “I know. This is definitely the pride and joy.” He walked out of the room, followed by the two Force Commanders, Alana, and Tobias.

"We cannot hide, surely if Snyder is up there, we should go there and confront," said Tobias, "If we were to strike him down decisively; who would be so bold as to go against us."

Kaider nodded. "Good in theory, but Snyder's off the ship now. As well, the fleets are being moved to some place. Where it is, I'm not quite sure yet, but the Admiral received his orders from Snyder."

"How do you know?" asked Tobias, curiously.

"Crewmembers and the Admiral passed it on to me. I was also keeping surveillance."

"I suppose we shall be taking turns at surveillance," said Tobias, "However I do not intend to stay here. This ship feels like a trap; with great metal walls. Farmina is my home; and the heart of the powers I can influence, I should be there."

Dasch moved over to the side of Tobias, looking at him. "But if we did that, you would be at the mercy of Palmer."

"Since I'm not thin and young, I'm not in any real danger," said Tobias, playing on the sleazy rumours that were spread about Palmer, "Especially compared to that provided by Lord Snyder."

"True, though I'm not sure if he plans on killing you," Ackvick said.

Dasch nodded. "I'd have to tend to agree. You're no threat to him, and from what I've learned from him, he'll leave non-threats alone."

Kaider turned to look down the endless hallways, and looked back. "Tobias is right. We need to get him off of the ship. The question is how."

"Can we access the Messian satellites?" asked Tobias.

Kaider turned to Tobias. "Good idea. We better get up to a terminal to see if we can. But I don't know if our codes still work."

"But what were you thinking Tobias?" Dasch asked.

Tobias wasn't going to say what he was really thinking, but did say, "We give Snyder a lights show to keep him busy; then we grab a couple of helicopters and fly off to Farmina."

Kaider shrugged. "It's a good idea, but Snyder doesn't know we're here, and he's back to his fleet, gone to parts unknown. We could just as easily launch my personal jet and fly there direct. With the flat deck, taking off is easy enough."

"Any objections?" Ackvick said.

"I suggest we try the satellite system," said Tobias, "For both surety and security. If you can destroy your weapons satellites, I might have a connection who can respond in kind."

"Then it's settled," Ackvick said. "We move to the main terminal to put in the activation codes. Once imputed, Dasch, Alana and I will stay on board to organize the resistance, while you two fly back to Farmina and tie things back up on his end."

Kaider then motioned to them. "Follow me."

"Very well," said Tobias, following closely. "If there is a traitor it is either Dasch or Kaider," thought Tobias, eliminating Ackvick and completely forgetting about Alana.

About ten minutes later, they arrived inside the main terminal room. There were a few men working in there, loyalists that Ackvick noticed. They walked up to the terminal. He loaded up the terminal and typed in the access codes for the weapons satellites. Tobias put his hand firmly on his pistol; as though expecting trouble; watching Ackvick type the code. Upon loading them, and activating the voice commands, he looked back at the group, then looked at the terminal. "Computer, activate weapon satellite autodestruct, one through eight, authorization Ackvick One One Nine Six Three Alpha Tango Two, Mark."

After a confirmation beep, the computer responded. "Authorization accepted. Requesting code two."

Kaider walked up and cleared his voice. "Code two, authorization Kaider Nine Nine Three Omega Two One Beta, Mark."

After another beep, the computer responded. "Authorization accepted. Requesting code three."

Dasch walked up. "Code three, authorization Dasch Three Nine Four Alpha Beta Two Niner, Mark."

The computer beeped. "Authorization accepted. Set time for autodestruct."

Ackvick looked back. "Tobias?"

Tobias hadn't found what he was looking for; this seemed to evidence that all three were honest and Snyder was incompetent. He couldn't help feeling that the evidence lead to the wrong conclusion, "I suppose we better get going."

Kaider then motioned them to leave. "Goodbye, old friends," Ackvick said to the satellites, though he knew they couldn't hear him.

"How can you get in touch with your contact?" Kaider said as they walked out and headed towards the exit to runway one.

"Not even I am exactly sure of that," said Tobias, "First we must find the Verica black-shirts."

"Hmm..." Kaider mumbled. "Any way of contacting them from outside the country?"

"I'd rather not announce my arrival," said Tobias, "News could get to all sorts, from Cultists to the Corporate Coalition, to Justinian in Dumpsterdam."

"Who said we had to go public with contacting them? Can't we use one of our secured lines?"

"Why are you so interested?" asked Tobias, "If you must know, I feel precautions have limits."

They walk out onto the main deck where one of the two massive runways lay in front of them. The group head towards a hangar. "Because," Kaider said, "If we're going to start this resistance, we need that superweapon out of action, as soon as possible."

Ackvick looked at him funny. "Would it hurt to just go there to do it?" Ackvick said critically.

Kaider sighed. "Not that at all. It's just that time is not what we have an abundance of."

"If you do not want to visit my nation just say," said Tobias, "I do not want to show a stranger around as it is."

Kaider sighed. "I'm scared to go there. But I still have to deliver you, so it would be better if you sorted your business before we go. That way I can drop you off and you can be on your way. I'm sure our ground party there can move you to a secure location."

"That way I can drop you off and you can be on your way. I'm sure our ground party there can move you to a secure location."

"Perhaps Lord Ackvick would rather come? said Tobias, "You could finally tell me of Rickhart's plan."

Ackvick nodded. "I would love to, but right now my nation needs me to lead the charge against Snyder. I'm the face that our nation recognizes the most, and I owe it to them to make this right."

Dasch frowned. "I lost a best friend there, and now thanks to your nation's terrorists, they ruined our nation. I'm more hesitant about going there than Kaider is."

"The price you paid is the reason I trust," said Tobias, lying.

Dasch sighed. "Alright, perhaps I should fly."

Kaider turned to Dasch. "Are you sure? You went through some very traumatic experiences. You almost lost your life."

Dasch shook his head. "I don't know, but one person has to fly him."

Tobias grab Dasch arm, "So its agreed. Lets go." Other hand on pistol. Dasch shrugged.

"I'll fly him."

Everyone turned to Alana, who had her arms crossed. "I've got my flying wings. I'm capable, and I don't have the baggage."

Ackvick's face turned to impatience. "Alright Alana, fly. Whoever, just go. We're running out of time."

Dasch had a look of surprise and nervousness. "Are you sure honey?" he said.

Alana looked back. "You're still healing. I'm go to go." She gave him a kiss. "Love you. See you after I return."

They walked up to the tandem two-seater private jet. Alana hit the cockpit door release, and entered the automobile-styled doors of the airplane.

"Flying women," thought Tobias, "Whatever next!"

"My dear, are you sure you wish to travel to Farmina?" asked Tobias, "It is not the safest place for a foriegner."

She shrugged. "Between me, a recovering mental case, an escapee mental case, and Farminaphobia, who would you rather have?" The others chuckled at the irony.

"I suppose," said Tobias, "Well I suppose we should get going." She nodded as she climbed into the two seater plane. She pulled her door down as Tobias walked around the plane to the other side door.

Tobias climbed in and pulled his door down, "Do you know the direction to Verica?"

"Yes I do. I have the co-ordinates punched into the guidance computer."

"Well head in that direction," said Tobias, "We are going to my father's, Lord Grey's estate."

She looked at him as she warmed up the engines on the plane. "Directly, or landing at an airport?" she asked.

"Directly," said Tobias, "The airport would give us away."

She nodded. "What's the GPS co-ordinates?" she asked, as she slowly taxied the plane into position on one of the helicopter launch pads.

"I don't have a clue," said Tobias, "I'll navigate by landmarks."

"That would mean we would have to fly low," she said. She put the plane into position onto the helicopter pad.

"Only once we get close," said Tobias, beginning to get impatient to be home. He felt his pocket, to ensure he had a pack of cigarettes for when he arrived in Farmina. Alana pressed forward the jet controls, and throttled up the electric jets. They could hear the jets spin up, and lift the plane straight up into the air. After clearing the deck, Alana pressed forward the jet controls, boosting the jet forwards. As the fleet became distant, she flipped another switch. The electric jets wound down, and a loud banging sound is heard from behind them. They could feel themselves being lurched forward as the Pulse-Detonation engines kicked in.

--------

Kaider stopped as Ackvick and Dasch walked away back inside the interior. Kaider muttered about his plan, and walked inside, to head to his office.

--------

"That's Grey House," said Tobias, pointing at a large house in the distance. She nodded as the plane slowed down. The electric jets were quiet, only making a whistle as she circled over the estate, then moved to land VTOL.

"Don't land to close to the house," said Tobias, "There is unused grassland on the left; bordering Grangin Forest. Put it down there." She brought the plane towards the ground. Tobias Grey pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, ready to celebrate his return home, "Do you want a little celebration my dear?"

She grinned. "No harm in that."

He removed a second cigarette and placed it in her mouth. As the helicopter touched Farmina, he brought his lighter up to the end of her cigarette.

One out of the airplane, she blew into it, to not inhale the cigarette, but to at least be symbolic.

Tobias put his foot on the firm grass of Farmina, and then lit his cigarette, "Welcome to Farmina my dear."

"Now we better deal with your plans to take out that superweapon. We need to hurry before Palmer moves against us."

"My dear," he said, suddenly looking a little white, "Turn around and look at the rifle barrels pointing out of the bush."

She looked and noticed the barrels. "That's why we kidnapped you, Tobias," she said.

"You have nothing to fear from us Tobias Grey," said a young woman, clad in black, stepping out into the clearing, "It is not how the game will end."

Alana gave a sigh of relief, and took her hands off of her pistols. "That is not a black-shirt uniform," whispered Tobias.

"I heard that," said the lady in black, "I am an unofficial Moralist. You may call me Lisa."

"Why should I believe you?" said Tobias.

"Look into the bushes," said Lisa, "A close examination will reveal some of us wear proper Moralist uniforms; from before Palmer."

"Now you will come with us to a safe house," said Lisa, "You will stay there until we decided what to do with you."

"Decides what to do with us?" Alana said. "We need to do some important buisness here that requires our urgent attention."

--------

"Mi'lord, I failed in getting Tobias to your location. However, I believe that he is still working on taking out that weapon."

Kaider heard a sigh from the communicator. "A minor setback, but with Palmer's tracking device in Tobias, I can kidnap him again very easily. Thank you for passing on the actions of Reaction Corps, as it informed me of that minor problem of a tracker."

"My pleasure, mi'lord," Kaider replied. "I will keep him in track. But I must ask a question, mi'lord."

After a short pause, the voice came back "Yes?"

"Was it wise to let them destroy the weapons satellites?" Kaider asked.

"It was planned," the voice replied. "We needed to make them think that we were defenseless. With them gone, we can spring the prototype on them. The weapon is far superior to the old satellites, and our second one is to be launched by tomorrow, and be online for the action."

Kaider smiled. "I'm glad you've planned this so well, mi'lord. I better make the final preparations. Goodbye, Lord Snyder."

With that, Kaider hung up the communicator.

--------

Snyder sat back in his chair in his office in the Punisher. He pondered on what to do about those Force Commanders. But in the meantime, he had to deal with those Reaction Corp reinforcements. He knew exactly why he did it, and how he would do it. But one thing was for sure, he needed to send that video to the media sources as soon as they were in position.

Upon distant hills the artillery pieces were being prepared under the brown canvas to hide the Farminan military’s operations. The Farminan troops crawled carefully into position with the tranq guns; through the thick bushland that characterized Farmina on a thousand television programs and movies.

Then the silence broke has helicopters approached at break neck speed and a stern warning was delivered by voice and by all frequency to the Messian encampment, “Forces of the Militia Enforced States, your residency has been terminated. You are required to depart Farmina in an immediate and orderly fashion or risk the use of force.”

---

To Alexander Peters
Minister for Foreign Affairs
Northern Colonies

As of twelve o’clock today; all visas of extended to Embassy and Consulate staff are revoked and their persons to be expelled. Furthermore we shall be withdrawing all our embassy staff in protest over the your Lower House issuing a declaration of war against the Republic. All Northern Colony citizens are to be evicted from territory that is the sovereign ground of Farmina.

Furthermore, we demand a clear and expressed explanation attached to any declaration of war, and an assurance you will adhere to the forms that Farmina has shown a respect for, including: the preservation of civilian life, environmental wonders, heritage sites, prisoners of war, grand buildings and political figures.

Should you fail to obey and form; we shall respond in kind.

James Palmer
President of the Republic

---

The half dozen of vessels sailed through international waters on schedule. The Reaction Corporation flag fluttered in the air and next to that of Farmina; but not on all vessels. The second-rate fleet was hobbled together from many nations where its influence spread. “I can’t believe we are doing this,” observed Admiral Tucker, “We are going to the Militia Enforced States with the collection of barely sea worthy ships.”
When Tucker said, “Barely sea worthy” he meant “Not bristling with weapons.”

“If only I knew why we were being sent,” said Captain Richards, “Word has it, this is a trap. The powerful are panicking and we are being sent towards a plausible enemy. They say Lord Palmer is calling an emergency session of Parliament.”

“If you know of a trap, but enter it anyway, is it still a trap?” asked Admiral Tucker, though he seemed to bare no faith in the meaning of the riddle.

“Still we have been ripped off,” noted Richards, “So few men, so few weapons and such old ships.”

“The ships float and hold their supplies,” observed the Admiral, “That is all we require for this mission to Mes.”

“I doubt there is a mission,” said responded Captain Richards, “I reckon Lord Palmer is just trying to play soft with the Messians. Lull them.”

“Well then you better play soft,” warned the Admiral, “Reaction Corporation has been offered this job with the promise of Messian gold. We keep to that promise.”

---

“Fellow Farminans,” declared President Palmer (or his double) standing up before the Parliament; the long ornate robes dragging as he gestured from left to right, “There is talk of war brewing. The fleet of the Northern Colonies draws ever closer to our southern coast and the lower house of the Colonial Parliament has passed a declaration of war against our nation; and for no other reason than for contempt of an election result.”

The entire Parliament filled with noise; abusing the Colonials and showing occasional support for the President. “A victory here will secure my power.”

Continuing aloud the President declared, “I have made the decision to sell or my holdings in Reaction Corporation; after growing concern of a conflict of interest. Furthermore, according to protocol in the face of war; we have commenced a citizen transfer, to ensure all Colonials are safely outside our borders should fighting break out. The Colonial Embassy has been shut down; and its staff will soon be expelled.”

“The military is now moving to red alert and I have taken the decision to implement a full war economy; if it is the will of the majority of the Parliament,” said Palmer, raising a massive document, “Hence, I submit the Defence of the Realm Act; with a war budget appendix. May I see hands?”

And according to Farmina’s bizarre Parliamentary process, each member inputted their vote into the computer; while raising their hand in the case of supporting a motion. The hands were then counted; and the computer score ignored except when the count was challenged. However the count was not challenged; the Defence of the Realm Act passed by a 90% majority; with the main opposition coming from Palmer’s liberals.

“I declare the Defence of the Realm Act law, and the appendix as budgetary protocol,” said Palmer boldly; “Let us move to the second matter of emergency business.”

He paused to look around at the exquisite old building; the lights of the chandelier shimmering off his gown, “I move that the Code of War, be re-affirmed; as is its principle that war is between soldiers; and that civilians and buildings of note, are not to come to intentional harm; except as an equivalent response to the acts of the enemy.”

This time the vote passed by a near absolute majority; the main opposition coming from the Moralist Right. The re-affirming was more a signal to any enemy that arose, ‘if you kick us below the belt; we shall match it.’

“I fear the Colonials are not the only nation that wish to draw our blood; but also the tyrant of the Militia Enforced States, Lord Snyder and Force Commander Kaider are in league against Reaction Corporation; and subsequently we suspect us. I place before the Parliament, to be logged on the public record, transmissions from the Reaction Corporation ship, the Grainboat, detailing communications with Lord Snyder and Force Commander Kaider. As such; Farminan forces are now moving to close down the Messian encampment south of Verica.”

Phillip Sullivan, acting head Moralist stood up in his own fine robes and declared, “In politics we have our differences; but in matters of national security; this Parliament is more united than any in the world. We shall fight to defend our democracy and to defeat any invader; and to bring democracy to all the lands of this Earth. President Palmer; the sword of the Moralists is in your hands; our fate rests with you.”

“The Labour Block is also completely devoted to the President in times of war,” said George Ravenstart, “We of the working men shall support any act of finance or regulation to protect our nations; as did the Liberals under President Grey during the crisis of Arandior. The blade of Labour is with you Lord Palmer.”

Alfred Zimia of the Socialists remained quiet; a simple minded pacifist who didn’t like swords or giving them away; literal or metaphorical.

Then in a grim voice, to conclude the brief emergency meeting, Palmer stated, “Then let us pray this does not come to pass. God bless Farmina.”

Snyder stood in the communications room in the Punisher. He looked up at the other high-ranking officers, the ones that were serious followers of him, while leaning on the table with his arms.

"It is time. It is time to cut the serpent's head off, leave them in disarray. Rogers, send a communique to the Farminan navy that we are moving to assist with two battlegroups. Once in position near their navy, flank and destroy the fleet."

He looked to another officer, a muscular female in her thirties. "Mills, I want you to launch two waves of fighter-bombers to prepare to sink the Farminan fleet. That should cripple their fleet for when ours enters range.

He then looked at another officer, another well built male of Africian descent. "Jenkins, I need you to put that media release out, and time that to first blood."

He then looked generally. "As for the rest of you, get all preparations ready. We have all the troops on board the various ships, correct?"

"Yes, mi'lord. We are ready for war," Mills said.

"Get to work," Snyder said. "I have a fleet to incinerate."

--------

Snyder loaded up the console, and typed in the activation codes.

Command> Fire

A large map of the globe appeared, which also showed where the now two weapons satellites were flying. It was a mere inconveinience to not have the other eight satellites, but these two were far superior. They had the combined firepower of the old satellites, they could be recharged without replacing the capacitors, and they could refine their blasts to save energy, or simply assasinate people. He presssed on the touchscreen to zoom in on a particular target.

As it zoomed into a close picture of the Reaction Corps reinforcements. His spy satellites reported their position. And now he waited...for the fleet to attack.

--------

Admiral Rogers picked up his communicator. "Farminan fleet. We have detected the Northern Colonists attempting to invade your nation. We are moving to intercept. Please regroup with us to help make a defensive line."

Press Conference, Adamson Hall

"Attention! Supreme Governor of the Colonies!" Shouted the Captain of the Guard, as Jonathan O'Brien, walked to the chair. In front of him were a whole
bunch of cameras, light. He was used to this, as he had served as the SGC since the year 2000. He looked down at the piece of paper. The sheet that one signed and sealed, would mean the start of hell. The start of War.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Colonists. I have before me a bill to be signed," he began, slowly. "A war bill, that will send the histories of our two nations deviating. Now many will ask why. Many more will know. But now, this is irreverent. Many lives will die as a result of me signing this. But those lives will die for a reason. Because of a corrupt government, named Farmina. She has gone through huge amounts of conflict. It is time now to give her a chance. A chance for a peaceful, proper democracy, free of the corruption that reign at this moment."

Jonathan picked the black pen of his desk. Elegently, he drew his signature on the piece of paper. He then took the seal, the Great Seal of the Supreme Governor of the Colonies. Again, he took it to the paper and place it down. It hit the paper with a loud thud.

The swords were drawn.

"May God help us all."
_____________________________________________________________
Location: Classifed

The C-54 Thors, leased from the MES including their pilots were loaded with tanks. Two M1 abrams tanks, fully deployable were loaded onto six planes, making a total of 12 tanks. In addition, the C-5 galaxies from the NCAF (Northern Colonies Air Force) would be carrying an additional 12 tanks, although the tanks were pulled apart. Other tanks would be transported via the cargo ships, as well as the bulk of the soldiers. (The First Colonial Army has one million troops) Other C-54s, C-5s, C-17s, and C-141 were carrying the 100,000 soldiers, the I Corps to land at a airport when it was established. The C-45 VTOL Carryall, would be used later.

Before the planes were loaded Chief of the Army, General Alex Ronstein give a speach.

... We must be victorious. And I have every confidence that you would be able to bring that. Have confidence in your abilities. You have trained hard, men, now its time to show it to our enemy. And when the enemy see us, may God have mercy on there souls. Do this for your families, your girlfriends, your boyfriends, your wives, your husbands, your brothers, sisters, mums, dads. Do this for your country. God will look over you and this nation. May God bless the Colonies.

_____________________________________________________________-
CBD, Freedom City

A loud siren could be heard. Although this was a normal occurance in Freedom City, usually because of an injury or fire, this was different. These were police sirens. A whole load of sirens.

The Police convoy stopped at the Farminan Embassy. The Police crusers made a sharp turn and stopped. Out they went and brandished Pump-Action Shotguns, and MP5s. Behind them, two small buses stoped. The FCPD SWAT. This really amazed the onlookers, as the SWAT were usually never deployed, if ever. A whole crowd began to develop, restricted by the police barriers. The SWAT teams moved into the embassy. They waited no time for a responce, as they knew most of the embassy staff had already left a hour ago. They kicked the door down and moved in. As they cleared each room, they secured whatever documents were left. Most of the documents would be useless, the usefull ones having been burnt. Nevertheless the check continued. They were also there to check if any Farminans had hid in the embassy. Such Farminans would be arrested. They cleared the whole building without any hassles.

'Nothing here,' one of them thought. 'I wonder what they'll turn up in Farmina.'

"And what important buisness might that be?" said Lisa sceptically, before removing a blade from her pocket.

"Tobias?" Alana referred to Tobias.

"I just have phone call to make," said Tobias, "May I ask about that knife?"

"No," said Lisa firmly, before slamming it into Tobias' fleshy arm.

"Owww," yelled Tobias, "Why did you do that you mad woman?"

"You would have moved if I gave you warning," said Lisa, now moving the blade just slightly, "Mister Rickhart decided it was best to be keeping track of you."

She said 'Mister' as though one was talking to a lord, or president; not a title of a commoner.

Alana again had her arms over her pistols, but noting the barrels in the bushes, she decided to not pull them out.

"You stabbed me," said Tobias, pointing out the blatantly obvious.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Alana exclaimed.

"We can't know who is tracking Tobias now that Reaction Corp knows the frequency," said Lisa, pausing for a second, before removing the tracker.

She promptly placed it on the solid dirt and stood on it, "I guess you will be want some antiseptic."

Lisa removed from her black jacket, before removing a small jug of scotch. Tobias Grey grabbed the snatch, opened it, poured a small amount on his wound before taking a large swig, “I wish Rickhart wouldn’t secretly conduct surgery on me without asking.”

Alana looked at Tobias. "Now should we tell her about the business we must attend to, urgently?"

"I wouldn't worry," said Tobias laughing, "Palmer can't use the weapon anyway. There are two keys and two passwords. He only has one of each."

"I wouldn't worry," said Tobias laughing, "Palmer can't use the weapon anyway. There are two keys and two passwords. He only has one of each."

Alana sighed. "So you tricked me to drop you off here then?" she said.

"I simply forgot to mention it," said Tobias, "And as I recall, you weren't my first choice of companion."

Alana shook her head. "Considering your welcoming party, are you sure you want to stay here?"
"Be glad it wasn't my father," said Tobias, pouring more drink on the wound.

"Oh will you two shut up," declared Lisa, levelling her rifle, "And may I ask who exactly are you ma-am?"

"Alana Makion. I'm here to return Tobias back to his country by request. We took him originally because he was at risk of being killed. I mean, look at the welcoming party? That's reason enough for Ackvick's actions."

"Lord Ackvick just did what he was told by Mister Rickhart," said Lisa, "As Rickhart, scripted Tobias' return."

"Must that man script everything," muttered Tobias, feeling as though the plot had been written and his actions meant nothing.

"I suggest we get moving," said Lisa, "We have vehicles waiting, follow me."

"We told you that Rickhart ordered us to do this," Alana muttered as they followed them.

Grand Admiral Frost examined the message from Admiral Rogers as a message beeped on a screen warning of the Colonial declaration of war, “Mad fools. Can they really believe that destroying one democracy with the help of a mad tyrant would secure a democratic future for Farmina.”

The sirens went to yellow alert, at the FSS Leviticus pulled slowly out of Ricco, “Imminent Colonial Invasion expected. Messian support anticipated.”

Grand Admiral Frost could not see what the Colonials or the Messians expected to gain; everything but the south coast of Farmina was the harsh desert that had killed the first settlers in legions.

None the less, Admiral Frost gave Admiral Rogers all the respect the message deserved.

To Admiral Rogers

How stupid do you think we are?

From Three Billion Farminans

The group located at the airstrip heard the message from the Farminan military. "I guess they've decided to evict us," one of the officers said. "At the moment we're outgunned and outmanned. We better pack up and move out."

"Yes, sir," a luitennent said. "Wait...sir, we're picking up an encrypted, level eight security message from our fleet. They've ordered us...to hold position?"

"Let me see that!" the officer yelled, stomping over to look on the screen. "Good god, they're mad!" he said.

"Orders, sir?"

He sighed. "Disobeying a direct order from a Force Commander is considered to be a high crime. It looks like we have no choice. Prepare to counter-attack. If the reinforcements come in time, that is. Try to stall them first though," he said.

--------

Snyder looked at the army list. He had 60,000,000 under his command, about 500,000 his loyalists. As long as they followed his loyalists, everything should go to plan.

Captain Star bowed to General Williams, “They aren’t standing down. These Messians are truely foreign*.”

*[OOC: Insane]

“Then commence the attack,” said General Williams, “We shall not relent until they choose the path of sanity.”

Captain Star turned the twelve FastFirer IVs prepared on the hill, “The Messian forces are now in illegal occupation of our territory. They have committed an act of war; and we shall respond with one of kind. Sleeping gas shells loaded! FIRE!”

In simultaneous thunder of the twelve barrels released their shells, the FastFirers gliding on their tracks to new firing positions; “Fire.”

The helicopters glided in on the encampment; tens of rockets locked onto heavy equipment.

And as the first shells slammed into the ground, the two hundred Farminan soldiers commenced firing their tranq guns at all visible Messian soldiers.

And as the attack commenced, the offer was repeated, “We intend you no harm. The will of Lord Snyder shall only bring death and destruction down on you. Surrender to Farmina; we intend you no harm.”

---

“So it begins,” said Jamie/Timothy Palmer, reading the Colonial declaration of war, “What could they dream of accomplishing.”

“If they create a new democracy,” responded Supreme Commander Aricar, “Snyder would turn against them. If they created a tyranny of Snyder’s mould; surely the people of the Colonies will turn against them.”

“Exactly my riddle,” said Palmer, “How goes the preparations?”

“We move quickly,” said Aricar, “But our enemies have a lead of sort; but a disadvantage of distance.”

“I hope calling up the last three conscription classes was sufficient,” said Palmer, “With volunteers, my advisors say that brings the military up to 150 million.”

[OOC: Conscription class is compulsory two years military service. Palmer has called up people who have done military service in the last three years]

“Over,” said Aricar, “But we have turned many away. I realise it is vital that we keep industry running; our stockpiles will not last forever. Plus if we keep the army slim; it discourages Generals from using conscripts as cannon fodder. You must realise of the 150 million; most won’t be serving in active front line duty. Naval and airforce units are especially logistic heavy. Only infantry units have a high level of active personal. Good logistics will win this war; our enemies will underestimate this land; of such great distance and so much desert. Their tanks will run out of fuel and their men shall starve. That is how we shall win.”

“I hope you are right,” said Palmer, “I do hope you are right.”

The three Carriers entered the region. They were ready to deploy their F/A-18 Hornets. The Task Force, commanded by Vice Adm. Georges O’Brien, from the New Freedom Naval Base. (OOC: Thats the colony where the uranium was from in the Rotovia- Crete RPing thing). They first made themselves comfortable by launch CAP (Combat Air Patrols) around the three carriers, the NCS Adamson, the NCS Pride of the Colonies, and the NCS Freedom. Then the carriers launched two E-2 Hawkeyes, to provide the eyes and ears for the fleet.

Back in the Northern Colonies, General John Fitzgerald waved as the first of the MES planes took off. A prefect take-off, some would say. He knew though, that many would not make it back. Nevertheless, he quickly pushed that off his mind. The Joint Chiefs had just informed him of the stategy to be used, and he would now preparing the intricate details. He knew for a fact that air superiority was required if the plan was to succeed.

'Let's hope we get it,' he thought.

President Jamie Palmer stood somberly before the camera; soon all of Farmina would hear the words from the President’s mouth. His red hair flicked about, before an aide turned it off. A long blue suit, covered the muscular President’s long body, “The Democratic Republic of Farmina is now at war. As of two o’clock this afternoon; I received official confirmation of a declaration of war, passed by both houses of the parliament of the Northern Colonies and signed by Lord O’Brien himself.”

Palmer paused, “The Militia Enforced State has illegally maintained a military presence within our borders; in effect Force Commander Snyder has committed an act of war against our nation. The tyranny that Force Commander Snyder would bring down on Farmina; would be at least a match for the horrors that we have seen occur in the Militia Enforced State; with four of the other Force Commanders being declared dead, two arrested, one institutionalized; and the democratic government abolished in the name of achieving absolute power. In this vein, I have just received confirmation that the Farminan military has commenced small scale operations to expel all Messian forces from within our borders, using minimal force.”

Palmer continued in his confident tone, “The excuse for war the Colonials use; peace and democracy. I ask Prime Minister John Anderson and Minister Alexander Peters, how they intend to create peace by declaring war on a country; that only once in its history has declared war on another nation? How will they create democracy, by attacking our democratic nation because a politician they resent wins an election? How can they hope for peace and democracy, when their choice of ally is a tyrant and a warmonger, making war against even his own people? And I say either the Colonials are mad or that behind their words of peace and democracy are other words; like greed and imperialism.”

“So it is clear that right is on our side,” Palmer continued in his soft tone, “But to declare a moral victory is of little value. A war is won with steel and blood. The great wheel of industry is turning as fast as ever to meet the great demands that have been placed on it. Three conscription classes have been called up to bolster the army in preparation for the foreign invasion forces. Though our enemies have the greater number; I point to Farmina’s great production and our prouder military history.”

“For every tank our enemies destroy and every plane they shoot down, we shall build one hundred more,” Palmer declared boldly, “For every man who is killed in the fight; his children will be forever devoted to a perpetual war for justice. For every bomb that falls on a Farminan position; ten shall be returned. For every bullet that shall come from a Messian rifle; a machine gun shall spray one thousand bullets at Messian positions. Victory is the only outcome; our enemies blood shall be spilt; and it shall be spilt with the steel of industry.”

Then Palmer paused, and took a solemn tone, “But not only their blood. The blood of Farminan men, women and children will flow in the River Verica if our enemies dare to carry out their threats. War is the ultimate evil; carrying the ultimate price. It is thus that I call upon all nations to cut all economic and diplomatic nations in question; and to bolster with Farmina in these trying times. And this is all I ask.”

“To the enemies of Farmina,” said Jamie Palmer, as though a direct address, “You still have time to abandon these senseless plans. Farmina is a harsh nation that gives birth to harsh children; the soft Colonists or the few of the Messians have no place here.”

“And to the people of Farmina; I ask for your fullest, be it in the battlefield, in industry or in the field. I don’t ask you to spill the blood of your enemies; but to save the lives and rights of your children. This is a fight for freedom and self-determination; but more than that, to show that the will of Farmina has not cowed, and the strength of Farmina not slackened. Today, we show our enemies the true meaning of Farminan.”

OOC: Map of Farmina (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y145/Farmina/43fc4b65.jpg)

http://img103.imageshack.us/img103/7264/colonialdaily8ca.jpg
WAR!
As of two o’clock this afternoon, the Federation of Northern Colonies is offically at war with the Democratic Republic of Farmina, the bill having passed both house quite easily. In a speech from the President of Farmina, Jamie Palmer, he slammed both the Prime Minister, as well as the Foreign Minister, calling them 'greedy and imperialistic' and 'mad'.

To most political commmentators, this has come as no suprise, as tensions between the two countries has risen since the decision to allow Jamie Palmer to take the position as the President of Farmina. Ultimately the actions of Reaction Corporation in the Milita Enforced States could be seen as the major factor in the Parliament's decision to go to war. The actions of Reaction Corporation, the only police in Farmina with connections to the Liberal Party, the party of which the Farminan President belongs to, including the attack on the MES Task Force One, in clear breach of the Maritime Act and the attack on the Prime Minister and Foreign Minister whilst touring the Milita Enforced State. It was obvisious from the outset, most commentators say, that after the actions of the Corporation, war was inevitable.

In an interview, the opposition leader, John W. Bush said that, "War is the only way that we can send the leaders of Reaction Corporation to justice. With the connections it has with the Farminan Government, there was no way they would be extradited to the Northern Colonies."

Continued on Page 2 in this special War edition of the Colonial Daily

Snyder looked at the satellite overview of the country. He studied it, and looked up at the rest of the leadership. "They didn't take the bait," Snyder commented, looking at the other men and women. "That means brute force." He then stood up, grabbed a special laser pointer, and pressed a button, putting the map of Farmina on screen.

"Alright, listen up. I've studied their nation's profile. Their population centers are all along the southern coast. If we bring our entire force here..." He pointed his laser pointer at the top of the screen, turned it on, and 'drew' an arrow onto the screen. "Here, on the northern coast, we should be able to break through easily. All of their heaviest defenses would be on the population centers. If we create a base of operations and a few temporary airstrips, we should be able to force them to come to us, cutting their fuel and food supplies. Task Force 3 with Alpha and Beta batallions, and the "Desert Snakes" 23rd, 24th and 25th medium tank batallions, and the 12th heavy tank batallion will be assigned for the initial landing. Further troops will be deployed upon securing the landing."

"Mi'lord, would that strategy of taking the desert areas be rather risky?" one of the men pointed out.

"Risky yes, as it would stretch our already stretched hydrogen fuel reserves. That's why I ordered all but one of our mobile hydrogen refineries to the battlezone to fuel our vehicles on land. We will have to make a box with our fleet to protect them from attack. But with a land-based airstrip, we can land as many transports as we need, while being able to destroy their superior ground force with air support."

"Sir, should we deploy the paratroop and the paratank corps?" one of the women officers asked.

"Yes, they will be crucial to splitting the Farminan front line. I'm also pretty sure that they wouldn't expect a fully-equiped MBT to land from 10,000 feet, so for even just shock factor, they should be deployed."

After a short pause, Snyder turned back, pointing his laser pointer to the ocean. "I will activate our one weapons satellite to destroy the RC reinforcements; with them gone, Palmer will lose a good portion of his security force, making our job that much easier."

He then pointed his laser cannon, and drew a line along a small part of the screen, making a small half circle on the top of the screen. "Here, our second prototype will create a trench for our forces to bunker down in the inevitable counterattack. I'm concerned about using it against their troops. If I remember their rules of conduct, I want to be able to use things that we can defend against. From Kaider, I found out that they have a superweapon capable of attacking anywhere indescriminately, and I cannot allow that weapon to be used."

He then pressed a button, and zoomed down to the southern front, where the two Messian fleets were stationed. "Here, the Final Victory will launch five waves of 12 XB-91N Water Rhino's, with the Defiance, Dominator and Trinity will launch three waves of 12 Water Rhino's, and have them attack the Farminan's largest flattops, and destroy them before they launch their first waves. The Houston and the Reaper will launch three waves of 12 XG-32 Sea Swarmers for air cover. The Slasher will launch additional waves if needed. Any questions?"

No one said a word. "Good. Put the fleet to Red Alert, and show them how powerful the Messian military really is! They will rue this day!"

--------

Ackvick heard the alarm klaxxon go off, startling both him and Dasch. Kaider looked at the other two. "What the hell? We're under attack?" Ackvick exclaimed. Kaider stood up.

"I'll go investigate," Kaider said, as he walked out. Ackvick looked at Dasch. "Is it just me, or is he acting a little more unusual lately?" Dasch commented.

"I don't know, but maybe I should go up there to find out what's going on personally," Ackvick said. "Wait here."

--------

Ackvick walked up to the bridge and looked inside the massive control room. He could see Kaider there, giving orders. He wasn't really being noticed. Ackvick listened in to find out, and he saw a squadron of attack fighter-bombers take off from the two carrier decks. He then heard something from Kaider that sounded very unusual.

"Yes, mi'lord. The units have launched and are en-route," Kaider. "Mi'lord...?" Ackvick whispered to himself. "...What is going on here..?" He swung out of the room, and walked back down towards where Dasch was waiting.

--------

In front of the console, Snyder loaded up the prompt. He had to wait for the briefing, but now he could deal with the Reaction Corps threat once and for all.

Command> Fire

The map screen came up again, and zoomed into the Reaction Corp fleet. He typed in the GPS co-ordinates of the Reaction Corp fleet, and fine tuned it with a mouse. He then pressed enter.

Firing...

OOC: Here's my current force strength, in what's deployed at the current moment:

--------
Navy:

Task Force 1:

1 Final Victory class flagship (MESV Final Victory) (10 wings of XG-32N Sea Swarmers, 8 wings of XB-91N Water Rhinos)
4 Champion class fleet carriers (MESV Defiance, MESV Dominator, MESV Trinity, MESV Houston) (5 wings of XG-32N Sea Swarmers, 4 wings of XB-91N Water Rhinos)
2 Punisher class dreadnoughts (MESV Excalibur, MESV Indomidable)
4 Thunder class battleships (MESV Helios, MESV Intrepid)
12 Bradley class frigates
2 Dominator class pocket-cruisers (MESV Bismark, MESV Nihil)
8 Banshee class anti-air corvettes
4 Blade class fleet submarines (MESV Silencer, MESV Lurker, MESV Shark, MESV Hunter)
1 Rescuer class medical and rescue cruiser (MESV Redemption)

Task Force 2:

2 Champion class fleet carriers (MESV Reaper, MESV Slasher) (5 wings of XG-32N Sea Swarmers, 4 wings of XB-91N Water Rhinos)
1 Punisher class dreadnoughts (MESV Punisher)
2 Thunder class battleships (MESV Invincible, MESV Striker)
8 Bradley class frigates
2 Dominator class pocket-cruisers (MESV Rebel, MESV Stranger)
6 Banshee class anti-air corvettes
1 Blade class fleet submarines (MESV Sleeper)
1 Rescuer class medical and rescue cruiser (MESV Medicine)

Task Force 3:

1 Champion class fleet carriers (MESV Lightning) (5 wings of XG-32N Sea Swarmers, 4 wings of XB-91N Water Rhinos)
1 Punisher class dreadnoughts (MESV Annihilator)
2 Thunder class battleships (MESV Devastation, MESV Destroyer)
8 Bradley class frigates
8 Banshee class anti-air corvettes
7 Lifeline class hydrogen refinery vessels (MESV Refinery 1, MESV Refinery 2, MESV Refinery 3, MESV Refinery 4, MESV Refinery 5, MESV Refinery 6, MESV Refinery 7)
1 Rescuer class medical and rescue cruiser (MESV Peace)

NOTE: Wing is 12 planes unless otherwise stated. Plane numbers are per ship basis, not collective.
--------
Army:

Alpha Infantry Batallion
Beta Infantry Batallion

23rd medium tank division "Desert Snakes"
24th medium tank division "Desert Snakes"
25th medium tank division "Desert Snakes"
12th heavy tank batallion

Airborne 1st Infantry & Armored paratroop and 'paratank' division
Airborne 2nd Infantry & Armored paratroop and 'paratank' division
Airborne 3rd Infantry & Armored paratroop and 'paratank' division

50 H-10 Beast attack helicopters

NOTE: Additional troops will arrive after the initial strike. More info to follow.
--------
Air Force: (Does not count naval air forces)

10 XF-99 Vengeance superiority fighter squadrons
15 XG-32 Swarmer fighter squadrons
5 XB-91 Rhino attack bomber squadrons
2 CO-19 Whisperer command aircraft

NOTE: Squadron is 16 planes unless otherwise stated.
--------
Transport:

100 C-45 Drozone VTOL Carryall transports
100 C-54 Thor heavy transports
200 Hav-Vac class hovercraft transports

--------
Logistics:

40 Hauler class supply vessels
7 Lifeline class mobile hydrogen refinery ships

--------
For info on all units, most is covered in my storefront. Link in signature.

Admiral Tucker of the rag tag Reaction Corp fleet stared into the sky. As though timed with his movement, a tunnel of intense light connected to the fleet to the sky. So the tunnel was so warm. It expanded so rapidly. The Reaction Corp fleet never stood a chance.

---

“It appears Mister Rickhart was correct,” said Timothy, gently rubbing Jamie Palmer’s back, “A token fleet was the best alternative; keeping Snyder cocky. Though he did not tell us that they would sink those pieces of scrap metal with such a weapon.”

“Indeed,” said Palmer, swirling his glass of scotch, “Snyder seems to plan on throwing everything into this fight. The Colonials are more cautious. If things go wrong, they will pay; the bigger things go wrong, the more they will pay. Snyder is trying to secure power, not maintain it; and even if he blunders badly, all he has to is jump on his own people. But John Anderson will be torn to shreds if he comes back with thousands of body bags and nothing to show for it. In military potential the Northern Colonies are the greater of our enemies; but that is an edge I’m convinced they will not fully exploit, especially considering their military is already involved in another fight.”

“And industrial capacity greatly shadows those of our enemies,” observed Timothy, “They have numbers and the troops; but our factories out produce theirs several times over.”

Being an economic powerhouse had great advantages in military conflicts; and was certainly one that Farmina was planning to exploit.

“Three to one,” said Palmer, recalling the figures, “Ten to one against the Messians. Adjusting for the fact that we will be fighting on two fronts means we produce fire five bullets for every one of theirs. Seven to two against the Colonials; but again adjusting for the fact we will be fighting on two fronts, it is closer to three to two. Again, I doubt the Colonials will move to a full-war economy; political considerations will weigh to heavily; so our advantage will be larger than this.”

[OOC: Economic stats from ThirdGeek.]

“Our enemies are in the worst position in the long fight,” observed Timothy, “They have stockpiled at the same level as us; if our reports are to be believed. Now we simply need to wear down their stockpiles.”

“Indeed,” said Palmer, and then heard a small beep from his visual communicator, “Tim, get me the reports on conscript retraining. The invasion forces have to arrive soon.”

Palmer walked over to the screen, turning it on, “Speak Aricar. Has the invasion commenced?”

“Not yet,” responded the Supreme Commander of Farmina’s military, “General Parms has now pulled the bulk of his force into southern Arandior, concentrating his operations in Suldanor. Cultists won’t be a problem and any surviving Socialists are going to be right underneath the army. We shouldn’t have a problem if General Parms doesn’t have to move his force. Furthermore Grand Admiral Frost advises me to keep the bulk of the navy docked. The Messian navy is a succulent target of foolish extravagance, but though it could cost them greatly if we attack; it would cost us equal. It is better to fight our enemies on our chosen battlefield; and that is on the land.”

“You didn’t contact me to tell me about Arandior or the navy. Get to your point,” responded Palmer sternly.

“The Messian use of a super-weapon should be responded to in kind,” warned Aricar, “If we do not; they will believe they can use their weapon again and again. I have already prepared for my protocols. I have selected the target of a Messian hydrogen refinery.”

“I told you I am unwilling to do this,” reminded Palmer, “There is a morality issue here; but furthermore they may respond in kind.”

“Do you think Snyder gives a damn about morality?” retorted Varius Aricar, “You need to show force or else Snyder will use this weapon again.”

That seemed the inescapable point, “I will not attack their fuel supplies; not just out of fear of response but also because of the civilian need. I suggest we attack a minor battleship. Target one with an ironic name; annihilate the MESV Annihilator.”

“I shall prepare the co-ordinates,” said Aricar.

Palmer turned off the screen without another word; and hearing the silence, Timothy re-entered, “They found a survivor. He is in a horrible state.”

“Good,” said Palmer, “Get him on national television. Make him tell stories of peeling skin, screaming men and make sure to include boiling blood.”

“This weapon will stump the Messians,” said Timothy, “I bet they’ll think it was some form of disease. I am told the frequency is undetectable unless you already know what it is.”

“This weapon is a disease,” said Palmer sternly, “Now, excuse me, but I have codes to input.”

---

Farminan TV spoke of the horror of the Messian super weapon; deaths of the most horrific nature. The appearance of the sole survivor, testimony to his tale. Blood curdling screams, dismembered men, but worst of all, burning so intense that it boiled its victim’s blood. This article was promptly followed by one denouncing Northern Colonies for not trying negotiations, specifically not asking for the extradition of Reaction Corporation executives.

And as television reported; the satellite confirmed that both signals had been correctly activated. Then it emitted the unusual low frequency signal that caused water to increase in temperature…

Captain Hartley felt something in her body feeling really weird all of a sudden. She looked around to see her shipmates looking strange at the same time. A moment later, strangeness turned into massive pain as their blood boiled. She collapsed among yells and screeches as the crew's blood boiled. As her body started to die, she could see a glass of water boiling on top of a console.

Damn those bastards... she thought as the excrutiating pain turned to darkness...

--------

Snyder picked up his communicator to hear someone's panicked voice. "Sir, we've lost contact with the Annihilator! It seems like everyone's dead!"

Snyder slammed his fist onto the desk. "Stand by for orders," he grunted. He turned around to his collegues. "The weapon does exist, and damn help us if they use it against population centers," he muttered. "Alright, continue with the operation. Make damn sure they will pay with blood." He thought to himself, I won't use that weapon on actual personnel again. I don't want to know what he'll do to my own ship...

--------

Ackvick arrived back at Dasch's located. He saw Dasch sitting back in a chair, obviously bored. "What's happening up there, Jimmy Boy?" Dasch said.

Ackvick looked at Dasch with a serious look, which got Dasch to sit up straight. "I think we're moving towards war. The Final Victory has launched bombers."

Dasch shook his head. "We would probably not win a war against Farmina!"

Ackvick paced the room. "We need to gather our loyal men and overthrow this bastard. Civil war if we have to. It's the only way we can both stop this war, and save everyone's lives."

Dasch nodded. "I agree. We should hack into the broadcasts to send out messages to our troops. If they know what is brewing, then they'll probably react."

Ackvick continued to pace, then stopped, and turned to the window. "There is something else," Ackvick muttered.

Dasch looked over. "What is it?" Dasch asked.

"I think Kaider may be working with Snyder."

Dasch quickly stood up. "You're bullshitting me! He was arrested with me! Why would he work for that scum?!"

Ackvick looked back. "I don't know. But one thing's for certain. If he's working for Snyder, then we can't trust anyone on board. On top of that, chances are they're holding us hostage without us even knowing!"

--------

14 wings (168 planes) of XB-91N Water Rhinos, escorted by six wings (72 planes) of XG-32N Sea Swarmers streaked towards the Farminan carriers as high speed, close to Mach 2. They watched their guidance systems, fed with the help of orbiting satellites, target the enemy carriers in the distance, in port. The bombers unlocked the firing mechanisms for firing, as they got with two kilometers away.

HARPOON ARMED

The harpoon was a bulky anti-shipping missile, and each bomber carried two. Combined with the 168 planes, they were confident that they could sink the Farminan navy in one fell swoop, before they had time to attack.

The lead pilots saw the lock engage, and they fired their missiles.

Then they heard on the radio: "We got incoming boggies at 12 O'clock!", as the rest of the gaggle of fighter-bombers flew towards the fleet.

It was standard procedure to keep fighters above Ricco Harbor to watch out for incoming; twenty were in the air when the threat was first perceived. By the time the Messian aircraft were in range, another twenty were in the air.

“Fire at will, fire at will,” echoed through the aircraft.

With moments, each aircraft locked on to a target and sent a stream of forty rockets flying forward.

On the water, fourteen destroyers and twenty cruisers (each has two anti-aircraft guns) locked onto targets in their air; sending anti-aircraft rocket, after anti-aircraft rocket hurdling towards the Messian aircraft.

Twenty SAM sites based to defend Ricco port also began firing their payload at the Messian aircraft. Twelve land based flak cannons joined in; although their target was primarily the Messian rockets. The twelve flak cannons on the carriers joined in that symphony.

Within inner Ricco, close to a hundred more fighters were taking off in preparation to attack the Messians.

OOC: Very rough sketch of my navy and airforce

Navy
12 Carriers(plus 2 in dry dock)
30 Submarines
25 Cruisers
25 Destroyers
15 Frigates
15 Corvettes
3 Hospital Ships
18 Supply Ships (not including haulers)

Air Force (INCLUDES naval air forces)

4000 Fighters
500 Bombers
1000 Air Transports

OOC: Heres my rough Order of Battle

Northern Colonies Navy
Task Force Alpha
Consists of 3 Battle Groups.

Each Battle Group Contains
1 Nimitz-class Carrier
2 Ticonderoga class Guided Missile Cruiser
2 Arleigh Burke-class Destroyers
1 Oliver Hazard Perry-class Frigate
2 Los Angeles-class Submarines

Colonial Army
First Colonial Army

I Corps - X Corps

I wont go into details, but its kind of like an American army type force.

"Holy shit, we woke up the beehive!" Captain Michaels yelled into his headset. "Exasive maneuvers! Countermeasures! Let the missiles fly and get the hell out of..."

His communication was cut off by a flak round hitting directly into his plane, blasting the plane into bits. The explosion filled a nearby Rhino with shrapanel, the pilot firing off his ordinance and ejecting moments later. The other planes entered range.

"Fish one!*" a pilot yelled. Right after saying that, the other pilots called out the same code as they launched their TM-80 Harpoon missiles from thier aircraft at their respective targets. They ejected their chaff and flares from their bombers, and pulled away as the Harpoons flew towards their targets.

The missiles launched from the multiple Farminan weapons streaked towards the bombers. Some missed thier marks, but some hit, screaming being heard in the Messian radio communications. Flak shells littered the area, ripping apart some of the bombers. As they flew off, the Farminan fighters flew at them at high speed. The Messian fighters flew at the fighters to cover the shredded bomber wings. One of the fighter pilots counted quickly the number of bombers flying away, and he saw that only twenty-five made it.

--------
*Fish One - Made up term based on the term Fox One. Means a radar guided anti-shipping missile being launched.

The FSS Leviticus shook as a missile slammed into it. Grand Admiral Graham Frost grabbed a pole for support, “Damned crazy Messians, if I knew they were this foolish I wouldn’t have left a plane on a carrier.”

“They’re going back as confetti,” insisted Captain Stevenson, holding firmly onto the same pole, “A first encounter and they are down on the score board.”

“Not damn near far down enough,” said Frost, reaching over to the comms set, “All Farminan aircraft. Terminate Messian aircraft before they return to their fleet.”

Another missile slammed into the Leviticus, and Frost fell to his knees, “Oh, they will pay for this.”

---

Nearly one twenty hundred planes were in the air over Ricco port now. Below in the water the Farminan navy had taken a pounding, several vessels damaged, with the carrier ‘Garrison’ and the missile corvette ‘Goth’ were sinking fast, and rest of the carriers looking like they had been beaten with a very large stick.

In the water, Farminan rescue crews were beginning to look for survivors and prisoners. But that was of little interest to Commander O’Reilly.

“Messian fighters moving to intercept,” said Commander O’Reilly, as his jet flew forward, “Lets send these bastards to the bottom of the ocean; fire at will.”

Commander O’Reilly confirmed a lock then fired, before pulling up hard to try and evade the Messian response.

Several Farminan planes were already falling out of the air; two had crashed into each other, one more knocked down by Farminan flak; but it was the Messians that were the greatest menace.

As the bulk of the Farmina fighters prepared to destroy the Messian fighters; two wings of were moving wide around the main fight to chop up the remaining bombers before they could return to port.

---

Tobias Grey looked over to Lisa with some degree of annoyance, “How long do you intend to keep us here? I have to help my country, and you should be doing the same.”

Lisa twisted in her tight black ‘uniform’, “You will stay here as long as my instructions are to keep you here.”

Several black-shirts in the room nodded. “Palmer must know I’m back,” retorted Grey, “You can’t hide me forever.”

“My orders are specific and correct,” said Lisa, “So I suggest you quiet down and get used to the fact you aren’t President any more.”

“Fine,” said Tobias grumpily, before adding in contradiction, “But I’m leaving.”

He began walking towards the door with a degree of arrogance and immunity. Lisa shook her head and opened a cupboard; catching Tobias’s eye. Lisa removed the stock and placed it on the round table in the middle of the room; cigarettes, cards and liquor.

“Well, I suppose I’m not urgently needed,” smiled Tobias, “Anyone for poker.”

Several black-shirts nodded in the affirmative and Lisa gave a quiet, “Yes.”

“Alana, are you playing?” yelled out Tobias, to the young lady who was somewhere in the safe house, before turning to Lisa, “However I do need Lord Palmer to get a message.”

Tobias passed Lisa a note, before lighting up a cigarette. Lisa read the note carefully, sealed it in an envelope and handed it to a black-shirt, “Jeremy, pass this to your friend Gina; tell her it is for the President; from Tobias Grey himself.”

The black-shirt took the letter, nodded, and walked out.

Snyder sat down behind a fancy desk, with a Messian flag behind him. The room was located in the MESV Punisher, but to the all the people watching, it looked like it was coming from Militia Enforced State. He looked into the camera.

"On August 29th, a day which will live in infamy, the Farminan Reaction Corps staged a unprovoked attack on our navy." He switched the video feed to previously recorded video. It was an ocean in place. It must have been calm, as there were hardly any waves. Across the corner of the camera were ships. Small ships, but capable of carrying helicopters. Suddenly the motion of the camera changed and the ships identity was reviled, carrying the Northern Colonies Flag. The helicopter readied its missiles, showing her true intentions. Moments later, it showed them uncovering their flag, showing the flag of the Reaction Corps. After a lengthy period of video, it switched to another camera showing the Reaction Corps fleet firing anti-ship missiles at the ships. Then it switched to another camera where it recorded one of the missiles striking a Messian capital ship. After, it switched to video of the Messian fleet engaging them, sinking the ships.

While the video played, Snyder's voice continued behind the video. "During fleet movements, Northern Colony flagged Reaction Corps ships engaged the Messian Task Force 1 in an unprovoked attack against our nation. Fifty one men and women were killed and one-hundred two wounded in the initial terrorist attack on our flagship’s engines, and an additional thirty-three men and women were killed and twenty-nine injured when Task Force 2, responding to the threat, was engaged and the flagship of the fleet was struck by an anti-shipping missile. The offending vessels were destroyed, but this act was an act of war."

The video switched back to Snyder. "If this were the only situation, negotiations would have been implimented. However, a number of criminal and hostile acts have been acted against our and other nations." The video switched again. It showed Reaction Corps men shooting from vehicles into a limousine with what appeared to be Snyder and the Northern Colony's Prime Minister. "Reaction Corps personnel attempted to assasinate both the Northern Colonys Prime Minister, and an attempt on my life. They got away before we could stop them in this case, but fortunately, none of the leadership was harmed."

The video then changed to another tape, showing the dead body of former Force Commander Alex Donald lying on the floor, blood on the floor and walls, inside an old warehouse. "Terrorists, lead by Chancellor Dan Rickhart, murdered one of our finest in cold blood."

The video then switched to the Messian main government building, showing the blast from the cultist blasting the structure. "Messian cultists, worshipping the Farminan Grey family, and armed by the Farminan Shadow and Reaction Corps, heavily damaged our main government building, and destroyed a hydrogen refinery. Three thousand sixty-eight souls, including Force Commander Julie Vance, were killed. Scores more injured, including Force Commander Lance Foster."

It switched again, to the scene of a murder. "Another Force Commander, Amy Ackvick, was assasinated Reaction Corp assasins."

The camera then switched back to Snyder. "Because of these actions against our nation, we have no choice but to use military force to demand the disassembly of Reaction Corps, MES intervention in the various terrorist groups, and a rebuilt government, freed of corruption."

He paused, and leaned a little closer to the camera. "I am now speaking to the Farminan military, and those of Arandor. We still remember your coups against your government. If you disagree with your government now, now is the time to stand out, and help resist the Farminans! We are not doing this for the MES, we are doing this for the great Farmina!"

--------

Three stealth bombers flying at very high altitude over different targets, drop plastic bombs from a high altitude. As the bombs fell, at around 10000 feet from the ground, the bombs split in two, and thousands of leaflets fell down onto the city of Arandor, the port city, and downtown Verica.

The message said, in all Farminan dialects: Resist the corruption. Fight for Farmina! Militia Enforced State and the Northern Colonys is fighting for you!

--------

The XG-32N Swarmers flew in at high speed at the huge swarm of Farminan fighters. "Sir! We have multiple targets...we're outnumbered six to one!"

"Nuts!" the captain of the flght yelled. "Cover those bombers, and draw them to the combined fleet, and engaged them!"

As they approached the fighters, the captain yelled, "Fox one!"

--------

Snyder arrived back on the bridge. "Report," Snyder stated.

"Mi'lord, we've lost over three quarters of our bomber force. Enemy resistancee was stronger than predicted."

Snyder looked at the map. "Bring the fleet into range of our main guns. Launch all available fighter wings to cover their group, and tell them to go into patrol orbit Alpha over the fleet. Lure them out, and knock them out. Keep point defense anti-missile guns online and scanning.*"

He turned to his communications officer. "Now that we have the Farminan defense network tied up, order Task Force 3 to start their invasion of the north."

--------

Task Force 3 sailed towards the shore of the Farminan coast. The Punisher class vessel, along with the other battleships, opened fire on the city's shore defenses, intentionally avoiding the habited areas. Fighter bombers were launched to soften the shore defenses in conjunction with the bombardment. Hundreds of transport hovercrafts carrying troops and tanks stayed near the fleet, waiting for the move to deploy.

"And now we wait," Admiral Gleeson said, of the troops waiting for their call to move out.

--------

Kaider walked into the room where the two Force Commanders were sitting. "There's no problems going on. You're clear to move about," Kaider said.

Ackvick stood up. "We need to get back to the mainland," Ackvick said.

Kaider had a look of surprise. "Are you serious?! That would be almost certain capture!"

Ackvick nodded. "Get us a plane. I don't think we are safe here any longer."

Kaider shook his head. "There's another...slight...problem about that idea."

"And that is?" Dasch asked.

"We have a Farminan fighter group flying towards the fleet. It appears that Palmer's finally decided to attack us."

Ackvick shrugged, and motioned Dasch to follow. "Kaider, stay on board and co-ordinate the resistance, while we fly back."

"...But the attack force!" Kaider exclaimed.

"We'll deal," Ackvick said cooly, walking onto the flight deck, then rushing across the flight deck to another personal fighter, followed closely by Dasch and Kaider.

"Ackvick, I must insist!" Kaider yelled.

"Shut it, Kaider," Ackvick yelled. "Dasch, get in here!"

They quickly got into the side doors of the plane, and hit the ignition for the electric jets. The jets wound up, and Ackvick pushed forward on the throttle, pushing the jet upwards and forwards, before Dasch even had his belt connected. As they started to fly forward, Ackvick activated the pulse detonation engines, temporarely deafing Kaider. Kaider had a feeling of shock. His own life could be in grave danger now.

OOC: That was supposed to be one hundred and twenty, not twenty hundred. You’re only outnumbered 6-1.

IC:

“The enemy fleet is moving for battle,” commented Stevenson, “Surely it would go against all our planning to attack.”

Admiral Frost paused for a moment then said, “Ready everything that is still in full working order. If Snyder wants to send more Messians to the bottom of the ocean so be it. He can’t win a fight here and now. If he tries to sink our planes; we shall sink all of TaskForce 1.”

“Aye sir,” said Stevenson, who quickly began barking orders at comms officers.

---

Farminan propaganda continued to play all over Farmina; the Messian propaganda having little effect, with the possible exception of winding up the Socialists of Arandior, “…Lord Snyder and Force Commander Kaider have plotted the extermination of the entire Messian high command with the terrorist known as the Shadow and succeeded. Now that the Shadow has received his just desserts; only to do the same to Kaider and Snyder remain. Lord Snyder gives vague promises; but vague promises are easy to make. He promises better things; yet Farmina is rich, while his land is poor…”

Lisa turned the radio off, the same proclamation had been delivered several times now, and no doubt many more, “So we have a sole plane departing the Final Victory; we must assume it has Tobias’ friends. Continue to try and communicate with them. If they can hear us; use this recording of Alana’s voice to grab their attention.”

“As you wish,” obliged the black-shirt, taking the tape, before returning to the military issue comm set; trying to contact the fugitive Messians.

---

Captain Peters looked out to sea, from the Alice coastline. Reports said that Messian invasion force was on the way. Behind him, all along the stretch; concealed in the scrub and sand were machine guns and men waiting to tear apart landing troops. Behind them lay a grid of trenches and even further back, up on higher ground, the field cannons; the FastFirer IV ready to pound anything into the ground. In the air were a handful of fighters; doublings as both scouts and a vital line of defence.

“Let us prepare,” whispered Peters, looking out to the horizon.

New Freedom Naval Base

The New Freedom Naval Base was a magnificent place. With state-of the-art technology, it was capable of recieving all transmition of the three Carries on deployment in Farmina

"It appears that the MES have launched an attack on Ricco, sir!" Shouted one of them.

"Idiots!" Shouted Vice Admiral O'Brien. "They must be doing a kamikaze or something! Nevertheless, we must continue with our mission. Commander, radio fleet. Tell them to launch planes to attack ground installations over Alice. Soften the defencess before landing."

"Yes Sir!"

________________________________________________________________
NCS Pride Of The Colonies

"If we launch the planes here, they would be able to attack the enemy SAM installations," said Commodore John Baker, the field XO of Task Force Alpha. "We should have planes equiped with the SEAD configuration too. They will get to the target in aproximately minutes after launch."

"I agree," replied Rear Admiral Anthony Smith, the field Commander of Task Force Alpha.

A hour later, 80 F/A-18 Super Hornets, capable of launching the AGM-88 HARM anti-radiation missiles were launched off the flight deck, heading to Alice.

OOC: An hour later? My thinking is that they would have long missed the battle; I don’t know about MES’. Also you are talking about going towards Ricco, over the desert; surely that just means you have to fly over more of Ricco? Where is your fleet; and why is it only taking them five minutes to take off from one carrier and get to the battle (seemingly travelling through the desert to get there).

OOC: MES's fleet in on the Northern side of Farmina, im on the Eastern side, I thought you were chaseing his planes back. Since im on the Eastern Side, i dont need to pass Ricco to get to the desert, but all your planes are, if they are chasing the MES planes.

OOC: You're incorrect. I have an invasion force north of Farmina, and a naval attack force south of Farmina, assaulting Ricco to sink the Farminan fleet. The jets chasing me are the ones flying from Ricco towards my fleet. The northern fleet is not being attacked at this time.

--------

Shells from two battleships (one was disabled by the superweapon) fell onto the Farminan defensive positions, ripping apart some of the nests and trenches, in preparation for the landing. Water Rhinos with Sea Swarmer support fly high over the Farminan defensive positions, then the Rhinos dove down at high speed to evade enemy weapons fire, releasing their bombs. The fighter escort maintained their height advantage.

"Bombs away." the lead pilot said cooly.

General Salamander had felt the moment, “Get the planes in the air. And get the anti-aircraft weaponry firing.”

Measures had been taken to conceal the Farminan positions; especially since if the Messians could be caught on the beach they would be in the open. Heaters had been deployed in false trenches, nests and camps to draw the attention of heat seeking technology. But this could only do so much…

“What are our casualties at?” asked General Salamander, looking over to his adjutant.

“We have seventy confirmed dead and rising,” commented Major Downer, “Mainly where they are trying to rip up the trench works.”

“Also,” added General Salamander, “As soon as those Messian ships come close enough to shore; I want the costal artillery units to open fire. Our FastFirers can throw shells faster than they can count; so lets make them count.”

“As you wish sir,” Major Downer, who then began barking orders at the staff.

---

Along the wide stretch of coast 15 flak cannons opened fire; supported by two ‘surface to air-missile’ launchers, trying desperately to send the Messian bombers to an early grave. Farminan soldiers on the ground tried desperately not to reveal their positions; hoping the bombers would go for dud targets or give up all together.

Deeper in Alice; the military airbase began signaling the first take offs of the 20 fighter jets designated to end the bombing.

OOC: Alright, I'll have to modify my post

The six planes, making up the flight to attack the anti-air missles, must have been an impressive sight on the ground, an obvious sign that there was now a real war. The planes were to cross through the towns of Jean and Kidani before heading to Alice itself. This was to avoid going through the mountains which could be housing Anti-Air Missiles, a threat to the planes that the pilots would rather have the infantry deal with.

Mostly, the pilots saw mostly only deserts, the glare being quite powerful in the cockpit. It was fortunate that Sunglasses were provided. A small air conditioning unit was also loaded on the planes, thus saving them from the soaring heat outside.

Passing across Kildani, the second waypoint, the houses were set mostly like a typical rural town. They did not fly over the town, but merely use it for a turning point.

After turning, they were dead straight to Alice.

"Flight one, ready your arms," said the lead pilot.

They had drilled this millions of times. As a result, they were able to execute fairly quickly. One switch to HARM missile, one to arm. The HARM missle switched on, immediately scanning for active radio signatures. As the missile were engaging the MES ships, it was definately on. The HARM missile saw it and locked on.

"I have a target, radar station, will achieve weapons lock in one minute," said one of the pilot.

"Affairm," replied the lead pilot. "Report when locked."

All the planes had found their targets, different for each others. A minute later, a 'beep' sound was heard in the cockpit.

"Flight One, Locked with target, request clearence to fire."

"Cleared," replied the lead pilot.

"Fire, Mangum!" Shouted the pilot on the radio, as one HARM missile was launched. It quickly found its target and began to manuver to attack it. Soon the other flighter were in range, and they also began to fire their missiles.

Six missile, heading towards the anti-air stations.

The six missiles flew forward. “Incoming,” yelled a radar operator, observing the enemy aircraft and their payload.

Flak cannons opened up on the missiles, shooting down three, but three more continued forward.

One of the two SAM sites picked new targets, turning their aim on the Colonial aircraft, sending up six missiles in quick succession; as the other continued to target Messian aircraft. Within a minute; the Colonial missiles caused both of the coastal SAM sites to cease to function.

Captain Johnson lead the twenty Farminan aircraft forward towards the beach, “Enemy aircraft in radar range. Weapons locked confirmed. Fire!”

With that twenty air to air rockets flew towards those pesky Messian aircraft.

The bombers, travelling close to mach 2, pulled up after releasing their bombs, and used their vast momentum to push them away from the enemy weapons. The bombs hits the trenches and one of the shore batteries, as their inertia quickly brought them away from Farmina, sonic boom deafening the troops on the ground, with Farminan fighters in pursuit, but losing their targets.

The CAP above the battlezone rolled downwards, and flew down to engage the Farminan fighters, using their own advantage to jump on the fighters.

--------

"Fox Two!"

Missiles streak from the XG-32N Sea Swarmers as they entered range of the Farminan fighters, as they fired chaff from their countermeasures compartments, rolled out of the way, and swerved away from the Farminan fighters. A few of the fighters failed to evade, getting destroyed by missile hits. Some blew up spetacularely, while others took serious shrapanel wounds.

As the fighters flew around, they opened fire with their cannons.

--------

Snyder looked towards the door. "Enter."

Kaider walked into the room. Snyder could sense fear in him. "What is it, Kaider?"

"Mi'lord. I...I have failed to keep the two dissidents on board the Final Victory."

Snyder turned his chair to face him. "I am already aware of your incompetance. It's a problem, but I'm not too concerned about it."

Kaider gave a weak smile. "You're not concerned, mi'lord?"

Snyder nodded. "I know where they're going. I've had trackers installed on all of their personal planes, so when they arrive at thier locations, I can get my men there, or even use the superweapon to kill them."

Kaider saluted. "Thank you mi'lord. I will not fail you again."

Snyder smiled. He then grabbed his Falcon Magnum, and squeezed the trigger. Kaider screamed as the bullet hit him in the leg. He fell down, and was moaning. "Why...why did you do that mi'lord!"

Snyder looked at his gun, blew the smoke from it, put it down, and sat up, looking over his desk at the injured Kaider. "I do not tolorate incompetance. If you were any other individual, that shot would have been through your heart or skull. But I see good things from you. Consider this your only chance to prove yourself to me."

He then grabbed his communicator. "We need a medic in my quarters."

--------

The personal jet flew towards Militia Enforced State. "I'm worried about Alana. If the Farminans are attacking, that means we are out of all certainty are going to war."

Ackvick turned to Dasch. "I'm uneasy too. In fact, you're right. We need to stop this, now. And Kaider was right, even if he could be betraying us; it's not safe at home."

He banked the fighter around, and set a heading towards Farmina. "I should be able to track her fighter using our signal," Ackvick commented as he throttled forward.

After a lengthy pause, Dasch turned to Ackvick. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," Ackvick replied.

"When we....if we can correct this, how are we going to repair our nation?" Dasch asked. "Our entire nation has been thrown into chaos. The only leaders they've known of this era are no longer there, and are replaced by a tyrant."

Ackvick nodded. "Well...Dasch, when I figure that out, I'll let you know."

The comment put a knot into Dasch's stomach.

OOC: Just realised I didn't number the planes for Task Force 3 that's attacking the north. There's three bomber wings, and two fighter wings attacking.

“Milady,” interrupted Ray Daniels, a black-shirt working for Lisa.

Lisa stood up from the card game and walked over to the black-shirt Daniels, “What?”

“They’ve turned for Farmina,” said Daniels, “They seem to be heading towards Verica.”

“They are going for the jet,” said Lisa, “I’ll take a team to secure them before Palmer does. You watch these two, I don’t want lose Tobias Grey.”

Lisa nodded at six black-shirts, “With me; we have people to secure.”

---

Alice

Captain Johnson pulled up rapidly, releasing another rocket at the Messian aircraft. On the flak cannons were all but silent; and anything that could be fired at both aircraft and ground troops was being saved for the ground forces. The Militia Enforced State could not wait forever; otherwise Farmina would reinforce Alice’s air defenses.

Other fighters pulled down, as they sent a rocket up, dropping flares in their wake. Three of the planes weren’t pulling down but; they were going down in flames.


“Ready,” instructed Captain Peters, to the crew of the FastFirers, “We know have word of air reinforcements heading for Alice; the Messians will bring forward their invasion plans. Tear the bastards apart as soon as they enter range.”

---

Ricco

Ten Farminan corvettes continued following the air battle, sending their anti-air missiles up into the air in rapid succession. Heavier ships followed close behind in case of fleet to fleet combat.

In the air, hundreds of Farminan jets released heat based countermeasures; trying to dodge the Messian fighters with great fury; some trying to fly under and over the Messians, as well as around to continue pursuit and destruction of the bombers.

More Farminan aircraft fell into the sea flaming, twenty perhaps more, however, the Messians seemed to be taking the worst of it.

Meanwhile on land, Colonel Turkington ordered firmly, “Launch.”

One after another the thirty unmanned aircraft flew into the air, towards TaskForce 1 & 2. A modification of the Unmanned Reconnaissance Aircraft (including heat generators); their sole purpose was to waste Messian anti-air weaponry. Two more groups of equal size were being launched at the same time at two nearby launching points.

Turkington smiled as the planes flew through the air, “Looks like those tricksy Farminans are at it again.”

Snyder walked into the situation room on board the Punisher, looking at the satellite overview of the battle. "Report."

"Sir, they're launching additional fighters! Our fighter wing has been badly mauled."

Snyder looked at the map, then turned to the officers. "Deploy six additional wings of fighters to reinforce the retreats. Lead all fighters to our air defenses. As well, give the order. Start the land invasion. Continue bombardment during the approach."

Beeps were running across the cockpits of the pilots.

"We've been locked, missile bearing 20 miles," said one of the pilots.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Shouted the lead pilot.

But there was no real need for it. The HARM missile outranged the SAM, and the HARM missile was able to hit it before the planes were in any real danger of being hit.

"Seems the AA guns have stopped firing," said one of the pilots.

And it had, it seemed that it the HARMs had done it's job. The Farminans had stopped their attacks on the planes, seemingly concertrating on the MES bomber.

"Ok, lets suprise them boys," shouted the lead pilot. "Remember boys, above cloud so the flak can't hit us."

The planes edges closer to Alice. With their cluster bombs, they dropped it on where the SAMs was once there. They knew their was going to be more sets of planes, with Mavericks which would be better suited for the artellery.

"Winchester!" Shouted the pilots, one by one, indicating that they were out of ordinance. They turned around and made their trip back to the carrier.

Admiral Gleeson picked up the communicator to hear Snyder's voice. "Commence the invasion."

Admiral looked out towards the shoreline about 30 kilometers in front of his fleet. "Force Commander, I highly recommend that we continue bombardment until nightfall, at which point we can move under the cover of darkness and smoke grenades."

After a short pause, he heard Snyder's voice again. "Do your plan. Snyder out."

The Admiral put down his communicator. It was close to seventeen-hundred hours, and in about four or five hours it would be dark enough to start the invasion. Infared satellites and IR goggles will end up helping them track down hidden embankments, and under the cover of darkness, assuming they themselves don't have such technology, their natural dark grey and black uniforms and vehicles should be able to be hidden better during the night.

"Continue bombardment from the battleships. Do a spread to do as much damage over a wide area as possible." Now he waits.

Ricco
The decoy planes were approaching the joint taskforces as darkness began to fall. The Farminan fleet kept pace with its aircraft, launching hundreds of anti-air rockets at the re-enforced Messian swarms.

“Keep enough guns aimed at them that they can’t risk to face the wrong direction,” warned Captain Riker, “But don’t chase them too far. We want them in our guns and not visa-versa.”

Verica
Lisa gently leveled her rifle amongst the bushes, “They should be here soon.”

“What happened to your old rifle?” asked Jim, looking at the old hunting rifle that replaced the military rifle.

“Tobias Grey is too irrational to lose at poker,” said Lisa, rather irritated, “You can never tell what he is going to do next.”

“Its not irrationality,” said Jim, “Its just a different kind of irrationality. After all, you’re the one who lost a fine weapon.”

Alice
Two hundred reinforcement fighters were racing towards Alice airbase, to bolster air defenses against the threat of invasion. Twenty broke off to intercept the Northern Colony aircraft on way.

OOC: Sorry busy.

OOC: Been to busy, ill post tomorrow

OOC: Sorry for the HORRIBLE delay. My appoligies.

IC:

Snyder looked at the map, where he could see his northern forces moving into position for the midnight landing. He had a lot on his mind. For a moment, he realised that he did a foolhardy mistake to try to do it in the daytime. At the nighttime, they would be much harder to track down. His train of thought shifted to the interrogation he had a few weeks before. The interrogation of the Cultist.

"Who are you," Snyder remembered saying to the roughed up man. He was in bandages, and a splint on one of his legs. He was one of the only ones to survive the barrage.

"I am part of the undying," explained the Cultist.

"The undying?" Snyder commented. "What do you mean, whelp?"

"The power of Justinian will never fade," said the Cultist, "It will simply be recalled."

Snyder paced around the room. There was two chairs, a table with rounded edges, and solid steel walls. "Recalled by what, exactly? Get to the facts Thomas."

"God himself," said Thomas, "A power that binds even you."

"Hogwash," Snyder snapped. He walked around the room, and leaned on the table looking dead into Thomas's eyes. "Why have you attacked our own nation! I want answers! Who are you working for?!"

"God," said the Cultist, "Through Justinian. It was objective to obtain Tobias Grey."

Snyder slammed his fists on the desk. It shook slightly. "Where is this Justinian, and where can I see this God-speaker?" Snyder snarled.

"Justinian is in Dumpsterdam," said Thomas, "God is in heaven."

Snyder looked at the man. He must have been in some pain from the assault. "Where in Dumpsterdam is he?"

"In the Palace," said the Cultist, as though explaining the obvious, "In the protection of Verspanius himself."

Snyder thought about it for a moment. Should he kill Justinian? Should he capture him? Should he even try working with him? He turned back to the cultist. "How can I get in touch with this Justinian?"

"Justinian has been in contemplation for a year," said the Cultist, "If he wants to speak; he shall find you."

Snyder looked at him closely. "Tell me where I can meet him. Now."

"I haven't met him," noted Thomas, "So an unbeliever like you won't be able to."

Snyder felt his right hand getting twitchy. "Then in that case, tell me how to at least contact him to set the meeting."

"Again," said the Cultist, "Can't help."

Snyder was starting to get angry. "Then tell me who can set this up. A higher figure, not Justinian."

"You could try God," said the Cultist, now intentionally being annoying, "But I doubt he would talk to you."

Snyder snarled. He came to the side, pulled out his Falcon Magnum, and shot Thomas in the leg. Thomas closed his eyes 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."

Snyder growled. "You didn't feel that?!" The chant continued as though Thomas had abandoned his body and gone into another plane of existence, "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."

Snyder signalled to an officer behind the one way glass. A few moments later, a slider in the metal door slid open, and a laptop was passed through the door. Snyder grabbed it, and put it in front of the man.

He opened it, showing a map targeting display showing the palace in Dumpsterdam. Thomas openned his eyes, "Yeah, thats the Palace. Gaah, my leg."

"Alright you religious freakjob, I'm giving you to the count of ten to tell me how to contact this man in any way, shape or form. If I count to ten, you will watch your beloved Justinian be turned into molocules." Snyder sat down, hand near the keyboard. "One."

"I have faith," smirked the Cultist, "Plus how could you meet him, if you kill him?"

"Here's the fact, Thomas. Either dead, or working with me, he'll no longer be a threat to either our nation or yours. I don't care if he lives or dies, but I'd rather do this politically."

"Three."

"The existence of Justinian is not tied to his physical form. The existence of the Cult is proof of that," observed Thomas, adding, "And declaring war on a nation bigger than Farmina and Mes combined is not what I would call extending your nation's life."

Snyder looked into the Cultist's eyes. "Four. With my weapon, I can hit it indescriminately. I can even pin it on Farmina, out of all nations. No one knows about my weapon."

"Lie," declared Thomas, before closing his eyes, "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."

"Five...........Six."

The Cultist's eyes openned, "Actually, no need to worry. A meeting has already been organised."

Snyder pulled his hand away. "What, are you psychic?" he scoffed.

"It is derived from logic," said Thomas, "A just man will slay the unjust."

Snyder shook his head. "So if I shot you dead, then you'd be unjust? Sound about right, should we test that theory?"

"That would require for you to be a just man," said Thomas, "Which is clearly not the case."

Snyder chuckled. "Which would nullify your statement, because then it would be against logic. But this is logical."

"It is a logical statement," said Timothy, "But it is not an exclusionary statement."

Snyder sat back. "When is this meeting?"

"How the blazes should I know?" asked Thomas.

"Then how the blazes do you know that a meeting's set up?!" Snyder yelled.

"Do you think we went to all this effort, just for the sake of having an exciting car chase?" asked Thomas.

Snyder nodded. "You wanted to meet Tobias, that's what you wanted. But now there's me."

"I want this meeting as soon as possible, and on my terms. Seven."

"And there is nothing I can do," said Thomas.

"Honestly, if you don't know where your leader is, how can you even put your life in front of him?"

"Can your soldiers organise meetings with you?" asked Thomas.

"Actually, depends. If it was about cruicial matters, most definitely. Working with them also boosts morale."

"So if I allow meetings about important subjects, then you should too."

"But your soldiers don't organise your meetings on important subjects; your higher ranks do," observed Thomas, "I am just a soldier."

"But if a private ran in and told of something of utter importance that was needed to be spoken about, and he seemed serious about it, then I would hear him or her out."

"I would want to know how he got past security," commented Thomas.

"He or she would be escorted in, after approval."

Snyder sighed. "Get back on track. If I let you go, will you get this meeting to be set for two weeks from now?"

"Obviously not," said Thomas, "Do you really think the Emperor would be stupid enough to meet on your terms?"

"And do you think I would be stupid enough to let him and his 'terrorists' meet on HIS terms?!" mocked Snyder.

"Terrorists?" laughed Thomas, "Where did you get that idea?"

"You did blow up two patrol cruisers and fired on police officers. And your men blew up my command center, and killed some of our finest."

"Acts of self defence," commented Thomas, "Except the Command Center bombing, which I know nothing about."

Snyder looked at him, interested. He shut the laptop. "Then who attacked the Command Center?"

"Dunno some guy," said Thomas, "Deep voice, orange semi circle."

Snyder muttered...

"That sounds like the Shadow."

"Well he did confess to it all over the news," said Thomas.

Snyder sighed. "Against my better judgement, I will release you. However, we must take you into surgery for the leg."

"Okay..." said Thomas, more than a little surprised that he wasn't going to become a martyr.

Snyder motioned to the soldier behind the glass. The slider opened. "Take this prisoner to the medical bay, and have him sedated, and the wound taken care of."

Snyder then heard a klaxxon. He didn't remember a klaxxon going on. Then he felt a thud. He then realised that the Punisher was under attack. "Mi'lord! The Farminans are attacking Task Force 2!"

Snyder grumbled. "Open fire. Launch fighter wings to compensate." He knew that Thomas was more important to him alive than dead. He had a tracking transmitter drilled into his skull, with a specialised microphone that could hear sounds through the skull. They had been tracking his movements for two weeks, and his plan on using him as a tracker seems to be working, Thomas not even aware of the probe. Snyder smiled. Tonight would be the official invasion.

The black-shirts waited quietly among the bushes, Messians were a predictable beast, and hence easily caught.

Ackvick saw Alana's plane sitting down in the field below them. “Something's not right there,” Dasch commented, looking down, “It’s unusual to not hide her plane, especially in a warzone.”

Ackvick nodded, “I agree, let’s swoop low and look.”

The plane flew low and hovered a bit slowly.

“Don't do anything,” warned Lisa, “Wait for them to land.”

“I think it’s an ambush,” Ackvick said. Dasch turned to him. “Should we leave, and figure out where Alana is some other way?”

Ackvick shook his head, “No. I think it might be wiser to let us be caught.”

They landed, and shut down the engines. Ackvick opened the door and yelled out, “You got us. Now what do you need?”

“The plan says you were supposed to arrive yesterday,” called out Lisa, who climbed out of the scrub into plain sight, “We can take you to safety and your friends.”

Ackvick stayed near the plane, and motioned Dasch to wait inside. “Where are they, and what do you want of us?” Ackvick said.

“Just a small recording, a short television presentation,” said Lisa, now standing in clear view, “Something for the people of the world to think about.”

Ackvick stepped out of the plane, “What guarantees do I have that you aren't going to shoot us, or capture us?”

“You have the word of the Moralists,” said Lisa, “And that is all the guarantee you will get.”

Ackvick gave a look to her. “If I recall, the Black-shirts were not too pleased about us,” Ackvick commented.

“We warned that the Mes were dangerous in style. Now Snyder invades our lands. How were we wrong?” observed Lisa.

“Well...you were wrong with one thing,” Ackvick commented, signaling Dasch to get out, “Not the entire group was corrupt. But we now have a job to do; get the tyrant out.”

“It only takes one,” thought Lisa, before saying aloud, “Then follow me. We have an office and specialist writers ready so you can begin work on your speech.”

Ackvick nodded, “Very well. However, do you need our help to stop Palmer? As much as I'm against Snyder, I think Palmer is just as dangerous.”

“There is still the Parliament,” said Lisa, “Lord Palmer may just choke to death on the checks and balances.”

“...And how do you plan on doing that,” Ackvick commented. “And would the checks and balances hold? They obviously failed for us, so what keeps him from falling into the same trap?”

“You aren’t seeing the real problem,” said Lisa, opening the driver’s door of her jeep, “Its not Palmer that is the chief concern. He is a vile man; but behind Palmer lies great and evil powers.”

“...And we need to expose them,” Ackvick said.

“We need to destroy them,” corrected Lisa.

As Dasch walked into the safe house, he noticed the very familiar face. “Alana!” Dasch exclaimed, rushing to her, and embracing, “I was very worried about what might have happened!”

She nodded, “I felt the same way. I ever so missed you.”

Tobias Grey stepped out into clear view, an unlit cigarette resting in his mouth, “Welcome to Farmina gentlemen. I hope the welcoming party was friendly enough.”

“Friendly enough,” Ackvick stated.

“She’s one of Rickhart’s pets,” whispered Tobias, “Friendship is nice, fear is better; seems to be the motto.”

“I heard that,” called out Lisa, who was busy discussing matters with the black-shirts.

“Can we trust her?” Ackvick whispered.

“She is on our side,” said Tobias, “Rickhartian rationality says we must protect our allies. No doubt she obeys his rationality approach to politics.”

“...Can we trust him?” Ackvick whispered.

“We must be cautious about him,” said Tobias, “He isn't going to kill us. But I am becoming increasingly concerned about his endgame.”

“You and me both Tobias,” Ackvick concurred.

Tobias’s eyes flicked over to Lisa, “But Rickhart seems to have vanished. She seems to be his hand. I shall keep my eye on her.”

“Do you trust me?” Ackvick asked quietly.

“As much as I would trust Rickhart,” said Tobias, which deliberately evaded the question. Rickhart was a long time friend; but fundamentally dangerous. Ackvick was friendly; but similarly dangerous.

“If it helps, once we're both back in power, I promise to pay for damages our nation has caused. And I promise to not leave a single Messian or piece of equipment in this country,” Ackvick whispered.

Tobias Grey felt that would be cold comfort to the thousands dead; but gave a thankful expression.

General Salamander looked across the map. Three days ago the Messian forces had landed under the cover of darkness; to be welcomed by machine gun fire. Farminan forces had been outnumbered and fallen back into the city. Three days of intense fighting, Farminan forces had retreated, avoiding severe casualties, using their speed. Again using their speed they launched crippling counter attacks. But numbers were against them. Block after block fell. Infantry units dissipated behind enemy lines to form guerilla units that might be needed in the future.

The General shook his head; reinforcements and materials were being brought up from the south. His forces had fallen back to the Pass of Farmina. The lines were silent; both sides needed a rest, but it would not last long. Worse, Salamander was convinced the Army of the North could not hold the Pass. Something needed to change, desperately.

---

Lisa looked up at the bright moon in the dark sky, “Tomorrow it’s a full moon. Everything changes.”

Lisa loaded her rifle and slung it over her shoulder, “Tonight is the Flight of the Moralists.”

There was general cheering, although Tobias wasn’t exactly sure what the “Flight of the Moralists” was, or if there would be another one soon.

“You all have your orders,” said Lisa.

She then walked over to Ackvick and Dasch, speaking in a more hushed voice, “Have you two prepared your speeches?”

“I have them ready, yes,” Ackvick said, “Dasch was not planning on speaking.”

“I have set up all the cameras in the study,” said Lisa, “Keep doing it until you’re happy with the result. Tomorrow we shall play it across the airwaves. Tomorrow will be a very different day.”

“Thank you,” Ackvick said thankfully, “It’s better than asking Palmer for the same idea.”

“Our editors will cut in some visual imagery during your speech. Death, destruction and war. I hope this meets with your approval,” said Lisa, “It will be on every radio and television station across the world. We will even pirate the Messian airwaves.”

“Excellent,” Ackvick said.

“However, I would like to see some of that imagery before you use it.”

“You can talk about that with the editors. So unless you have any other questions,” said Lisa, picking up three yellow envelopes and slipping them into her jacket, “I shall see you in the morning. Make yourselves at home.”

Ackvick nodded.

Lisa gave a small salute, though badly fumbled, “God be with you.”

Tobias Grey didn’t understand what was happening, but the sheer commitment of the young lady clad in black lead him to agree, “What does this have to do with me?”

“We’ve been collecting votes,” said Lisa, pushing Tobias into the utility’s passenger seat, “Now we have had enough time, and enough proof, to get the votes we need.”

She then looked at the rest of her black-shirts, who had been given assault rifles and baseball bats, “You guys are riding in the back.”

As she proceeded to the driver’s seat, Tobias asked ominously, “I’m sure Rickhart is behind this.”

Ackvick sat down in front of the cameras, and grabbed his datapad which had his speech. He gave it to the technician to add to the teleprompter. He didn't like using them, but in this case, accuracy was a must.

The technician counted down, and Ackvick gathered his thoughts.

"Hello, fellow Messians. You probably have heard the lies and deceit of Snyder's dictatoral rule, stating that I have gone mad. Today, I am here to announce that Snyder has plotted to take over power, and that I am not mad."

"Snyder has plotted against our very nation. He has hundreds, if not, thousands of supporters. They are known to be Snyder's loyalists by having the special uniforms that you may or may not have noticed by now. They are our nation's enemies. On investigating, I have found that Snyder was responsible for plotting the bomb on the command center, and moving our best men and women including two force commanders into the blast area just before the explosion. He has ordered the assasination of my wife, and arrested Dasch and Kaider on completely false charges."

"Today, I must ask our nation, to stand up behind me, stand up behind the force commanders, stand up against Snyder, and stop him, before it's too late!"

Ackvick paused. He signalled to the technician to keep the recording going, even though the speech was over. "To the people of Farmina, I personally appoligise for this mess. I would have never agreed to this war, and I hope to stop this illegal war as soon as possible. And to the people of Northern Colonys, you have been misled into a false war of agression. We need all of your help and strength to stop this war in its tracks!"

He paused again. He sighed. "People of Militia Enforced State, I close this speech by admitting that we have failed you. I hope to correct this, but the damage was done. I'm sorry."

He signalled to the technician to cut the recording. About twenty or so minutes later, it was broadcast to the world.

Epilogue

The sparse rags provided Rickhart no warmth; he wore only trousers as they were all that were worth wearing. The food supplied him no sustenance; he had been forced to rely on provisions he hid when he was of use to Reaction Corporation. Bringing the nuts to his mouth, Daniel Rickhart swallowed the last of his food stores, washing it down with a mouthful of grungy water. However the shame placed in him by Palmer could never be erased or cleansed.

The dried gruel on the wall made it clear that tomorrow night the full moon would rise. “The end is coming,” thought Rickhart, “I shall slay the evil that rests here.”

---

“I’ve warned them,” declared Doctor Steinbeck pacing frustrated back and forward, “But tomorrow, tomorrow they will be sorry. They will all be sorry.”

“Yes, Doctor,” said the disinterested Reaction Corporation guard, “Shouldn’t you be going home? All you are doing here is pacing a hole in the floor.”

Steinbeck paused and thought, “No more hesitation. I must do this now.”

He then turned to the guard, “I could I please have the key to Daniel Rickhart’s cell; I need to confirm my reports on his mental state for the powers upstairs.”

The guard leaned into a secure box, pulled out a key and passed it to Steinbeck, before returning to his paper work. Steinbeck proceeded to walk down the cell hall. The Reaction Corporation headquarters was quiet at this time of night. Still quieter with all the young men had been put back in green sleeves.

Steinbeck stopped and turned left, when he reached the red door that was Rickhart’s cell. Silently he slipped the key into the lock and turned it. With his left hand he held the dagger to slay the beast, with the right he pushed the cell door open. As the door opened, he expected to see Rickhart; but Rickhart was not visible, he was gone.

A powerful hand emerged from behind the door, grabbing Steinbeck’s left arm and pushing it against the thin edge of the door with such force and such speed to shatter the bones. Steinbeck dropped the knife harmlessly on the floor, as the terrified psychologist watched Rickhart step out from hiding behind the door.

“Predictable,” mocked Rickhart, head butting the psychologist, followed with a firm knee to the groin, “Your fear of me lead you to folly. You fell for the trap of a self-fulfilling prophecy. But doom shall not reign under the full moon. Tonight is night of the change; and let me assure you Steinbeck, I shall keep to promise of killing you first.”

The silent terror oozed out of Steinbeck; as did the blood from his nose as he squirmed against the cell wall. With a solid elbow to the cheek, Rickhart swung around Steinbeck’s head, causing a snapping sound after which Steinbeck fell to the floor. Rickhart looked down at the elitist fools body, “I am a man of my word.”

Rickhart picked up the dagger and rested it gently in his trousers, before proceeding out along the cell corridor. Quietly he moved toward the custody admin, where the Reaction Corp guard stood between Rickhart and the rest of the building. Peering around the corner, Rickhart could see that guard. A guard who was conveniently facing the wrong direction. With stealth and speed Rickhart moved in behind him; grabbing the startled guard’s neck and twisting so as to snap it.

The lifeless guard fell to the ground, and Rickhart grabbed his rifle and knife, before looking around to work out which way he was supposed to be going. Upon deciding the door to the right was the correct option, a Reaction Corp guard walked through, startled by the sight of the half dressed Rickhart holding a rifle. But before the guard could do anything, his head shattered as a bullet penetrated it.

Without wasting another second, Rickhart bolted towards the open doors, slipping through before they closed. He sped from corridor to corridor, trying desperately to avoid Reaction Corporation guards. Then suddenly, he found himself behind another blue-jacketed corporatist. And so with deep conviction he slammed the rifle butt into the guard’s head. The guard crumpled. Again Rickhart brought down the rifle butt to confirm the kill. Rickhart again picked up speed, knowing that the authorities must now be alarmed. One more left turn and Rickhart saw what he wanted, IT Office. With a firm foot; Rickhart threw the door off its hinges before proceeding through; a knife in each hand. After a split second of observation, Rickhart launched the knives with great fury, one left and one right, slamming them into the throats of two guards waiting for him on either side of the doorframe. He explained to the guards as they gurgled on their own blood, “Don’t bother using my own tricks on me.”

Rickhart moved over to the first computer he could reach and typed furiously, bypassing encryption after encryption, as had been explained to him by one of the black-shirt IT men. Picking the patterns was easy for a mathematical mind. Then suddenly he had it, the power he needed. Entering the IP address, within seconds the virus was being downloaded. Rickhart nodded at the computer. Within minutes all Reaction Corporation systems would be corrupted. If the black-shirts completed their part, Reaction Corp would fall.

---

Timothy “Palmer” smiled at serving girl, who giggled as she refilled his glass of scotch, “Roger, your corporate management does this nation proud.”

Roger Hanshuck, head of Reaction Corporation leaned back in his chair and then smiled at Palmer, “I am glad the President approves in trying times. I assume you will be making your visit to Rickhart’s cell again tonight?”

Before he could answer, Timothy’s mobile began to ring and logically, he answered it, “James Palmer here…James, you sound panicked…The Moralists are planning to do what?!?…No, I’ll deal with it. You just take my spot. Love you later.”

“Who’s this other James? What’s going on?” asked Hanshuck.

“The Moralists have called an emergency session of Parliament,” said Timothy, “They are up to something, and its big. I want you to deploy all available resources to prevent the Moralists completing their plan.”

Suddenly the emergency siren started a series of loud long bleeps. “That is barely the appropriate response to an instruction,” commented Timothy.

“Just a minor prisoner trying to escape our labyrinth,” said Hanshuck reassuringly.

His words were shortly followed by the siren changing the speed of the beeps, “Now that’s unusual.”

“Unusual!” exclaimed Timothy, “Your alarm is playing ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’ Lord Hanshuck!”

Hanshuck picked up the phone and yelled into it, “What the hell is going on?”

Timothy looked around observing that the lights were flickering; in time with the musical alarm.

Hanshuck through his phone on the floor, “The lines are all scrambled.”

The CEO opened up his laptop, under the glare of the President’s double, who was now mockingly singing softly along with the alarm and flashing lights. The laptop booted up and Hanshuck began typing furiously, unaware the Rickhart’s super-virus to target Reaction Corp software was downloading. “Its Rickhart,” said Roger silently, “He’s escaped.”

Hanshuck typed more orders furiously, sending instructions to all unit commanders to deploy outside the Parliament and actively seek out the Moralists. “Rickhart,” hissed Timothy, unaware that his glass had slipped out of his hand and shattered on the floor.

“Dealt with,” said Hanshuck, “The Moralists won’t be getting the majority in any parliamentary vote.”

“Good,” said Timothy, pulling a mask over his face, “Leave Rickhart to me; this time I shall finish him.”

With sleight of hand, Timothy crushed a small tablet in his gloved hand, before disappearing out of the room. Hanshuck could see the Moralist’s defeat from here. He picked up his scotch and drank it; unaware of the poison Timothy was using to destroy the evidence of the link between Palmer and Reaction Corporation. The CEO turned back to his laptop; as the screen turned black; and a great Moralist hawk appeared on the screen. The CEO panicked; and then the poison took hold.

---

Black-shirts filled the streets of Verica; not in rag-tag spatters, but organized fighting groups. Now it was Reaction Corp that was disorganized; the black-shirts predicting their every move in the violent melee battles.

Lisa drove forward with the black-shirt army as it moved towards the old Council Building, where Parliament was held. A club fell firmly on another Reaction Corp soldier who crumpled; as others abandoned their positions; realizing they could not hold the main street. Clubs were matched with clubs; when the enemy chose ranged weapons; the Moralists responded in kind.

Tobias Grey turned to his left and spotted a Reaction Corp soldier taking aim; at him! With the urgency required, Tobias pulled out his pistol and fired, shooting a hole in the roof of Lisa’s vehicle. Luckily for Tobias, not all Moralists were as bad a shot as him; a black-shirt riding on the back of the utility shooting the failed assassin dead.

As other black-shirt groups protected their respective Moralists politicians; Reaction Corp was in all out retreat as their orders became more and more irrational. The Moralists were going to reach the Parliament…

---

Bullets slammed into the desk and cracked over Rickhart’s head. Rickhart turned around and looked at where bullets were imbedded in the wall behind him. Angle and position gave Rickhart a good guess of the line that the guards would be on. Recalling the imagery, he managed to overlay the trajectories and approximately locate the three shooters.

Readying his rifle; Rickhart rose up from behind the desk; quickly releasing three rounds, before ducking down again. There were two distinct screams of pain; but a third rifle continued to fire for some time. Then there was silence and Rickhart jumped up; to the sight of the clearly panicked third shooter. “The fool is out of bullets,” Rickhart thought, who jumped over the table and raced for the Reaction Corporation solder.

The Reaction Corp soldier stood up as though to run; but Rickhart placed his knee in the man’s jaw, throwing him back to the floor. Rickhart slammed his rifle butt twice into the man’s head, shattering the skull. In that instant another guard entered the room, Rickhart rotated the rifle and fired; the guard crumpling in a heap.

Dan Rickhart ran through the door, releasing another bullet at a panicked guard. The alarm was now playing the “Blue Danube.” Rickhart paused in the middle of the small room. He was still alive. Was this the best Reaction Corp had too offer?

“Stay very still Daniel Rickhart,” said Timothy, currently unseen; mimicking Jamie’s voice as perfect as always.

Rickhart looked around the room panicked; how had he been trapped. For a short period of time; he had thought his prophecy had been completely wrong. But it wasn’t. The walls lifted straight up; through holes in the roof, to reveal not a small empty room, but a much larger room, full of Reaction Corp troopers in blue, and a tall, muscular man covered head to toe in black. And it was Timothy’s muscular form was hidden behind an entire coating of black; like that of the black-shirts.

Rickhart peered at all the rifles that were pointing at him. A fake room; what a truly wonderful trap. He nearly felt the obligation to clap.

“You won’t take me alive Jamie,” said Rickhart, “I will die victorious.”

Timothy “Palmer” put down his pistol and removed a large sword from its sheath, still avoiding reference any reference to his identity, “A final dual, Rickhart. It will be a fitting end.”

“Very well,” said Rickhart, resigned to his fate.

The Reaction Corporation soldiers dropped their rifles; one bringing a sword over to Rickhart. Rickhart threw his gun and two knives on the floor; taking firm grip of the large sword.

“Leave us,” said the masked Timothy, mimicking Rickhart’s deeper, more intimidating voice.

“Palmer’s a mimic!” thought Rickhart.

Timothy swung his sword, to stretch as the Reaction Corporation soldiers left, “Time’s up Rickhart.”

With only the two men left in the room; the great metal doors slammed shut.

---

James Palmer stared out across the Parliament. Whatever Timothy had promised to do to prevent the Moralists voting clearly hadn’t worked. Outside there was the sounds of fighting and occasional gun fire. It was close; Palmer was sure some of it was inside the building.

Then a foul silence fell over the Parliament as Tobias Grey himself entered, flanked by a female and a male black-shirt.

“The Parliament is gathered,” observed Chancellor Sullivan, acting leader of the Moralists, “And in these trying times, desperate action is required. The President has led us to war against two nations. As we speak Alice has fallen into Messian hands. President Palmer has had inappropriate relations with Reaction Corporation, along with others.”

Others, was a snide reference to the young gentlemen that Palmer was rumoured to entertain.

“President Palmer has misused his powers and brought Farmina to a state of war. I therefore submit before the Parliament a proposal to replace President James Palmer; and to make Tobias Grey president.”

“The Parliament has no such power!” exclaimed Palmer, turning bright red.

Tobias Grey was also turning red. This was an unacceptable violation of the democratic process. How dare one democratic body dismiss another; and Tobias saw Rickhart pulling all the strings. From the very moment Palmer was elected, Rickhart had been designing this one outcome. Tobias could now see Rickhart for what he really was; not a democrat at all, but a dangerous consequentialist; the ends justify the means. He had seen it when Rickhart had defeated his re-vote proposal. But this went one step further; this showed just how far Rickhart could go.

“There is no constitutional provisions saying the Parliament can’t,” observed Sullivan, “And no court will say otherwise. May I see hands?”

With that a majority of hands shot up in the air. All of the Socialists and Labour, and nearly all of the Moralists. Tobias Grey did not raise this hand; this was treachery, great treachery. What was the point of Presidential elections, if the Parliament just changed the result when he pleased. But the President remained silent. Sullivan spoke again, “May I present before the Parliament, President Tobias Grey.”

The Liberals jeered loudly, and rather profanely. Tobias Grey stood up, rather unwillingly, “I will have order, if nothing else.”

James Palmer stood up as the other Liberals fell silent. He pointed across the Parliament, speaking with great fury, “You will have nothing Tobias. I will have order and I am President. This nation will serve me; and you will serve me. Anyone who follows this false President will be tried for treason and hung.”

Palmer paused, before ordering to his Reaction Corp guards, “Seize them.”

Lisa and the other black-shirt lifted their rifles. Palmer turned to the great door of the Parliament, expecting Reaction Corp troops to flow in. But they didn’t, black-shirts did.

“This can’t be happening,” muttered Palmer.

“Take Lord Palmer to confinement,” ordered Chancellor Sullivan, “Ordering the capture of the President is a serious offence. Now lets unscramble the egg.”

Lisa and the other black-shirt grabbed Palmer firmly by the arm. Liberals jeered and heckled, and threw small objects as the two black-shirts slowly dragged the unstruggling Palmer away.

Palmer was clearly angry, but did nothing other than to boast, “You will pay for this. You will all pay for this. I am President of Farmina. I will always be President of Farmina. You will all hang for this. I shall have my revenge; hear me Sullivan, hear me Grey, and hear me Rickhart. I will have my revenge.”

Tobias Grey wasn’t happy about this, in fact he was very angry, but Sullivan was right. It was time to unscramble the egg. The government’s fist needed to finish Reaction Corp and there was a war to win. The police force had to be rebuilt, the black-shirts could enforce the law for now. A president’s work was never done.

---

Reaction Corp troops threw down their weapons by the hundreds. Others fought on and died. Orders seemed to be ignored or misinterpreted unless delivered to a corporate soldier’s face. All across Farmina, Reaction Corporation buildings burnt. In the White Palace; Reaction Corp troops tried to make a last stand; but it was all in vain. The Moralists were law and the black-shirts it enforcers. Reaction Corp were now criminals; criminals who had tried to prevent Parliament sitting.

Ryan Asbar looked up at the moon. It wasn’t full, but it seemed Steinbeck had been right. Outside the Reaction Corporation headquarters, blue coated Reaction Corp troopers tried desperately to prevent their apprehension by the black-shirts. Clubs were flying everywhere. The sound of motorbikes filled the air; then the bikes flew past. Bright flashes of homemade bombs, slammed through the headquarters windows; the blasts showering shattered glass outwards onto Asbar. “Rickhart,” thought Asbar, as he turned to see flames leaping up.

Asbar wasn’t a complete fool. He couldn’t save Reaction Corp; but he had every intention of saving himself. And as Reaction Corp burnt, he vanished into the night.

---

Timothy stepped towards Rickhart, who readied his sword. “Tell me what you have done,” ordered Timothy; “Gloat while you can.”

“The Parliament will sack you as President,” said Rickhart, “You will deploy Reaction Corp troops. I have planted a virus to cripple security systems and alter orders. In effect I am ordering your troops. They are sheep to the slaughter. By now, black-shirts would have stormed the Parliament. Its all over.”

Timothy swung low; but Rickhart saw this and blocked it. Timothy stepped back before lunging at Rickhart. The elder man stepped out of the way, before swinging to strike Timothy’s exposed flank. Too slow, Timothy the attack before it happened and blocked it with such force to throw Rickhart off balance. “It is inevitable,” warned Timothy.

Timothy moved to struck high, but the off balance Rickhart, blocked and stepped back in one single move; trying to regain his stature. Timothy pressed his advantage, sidestepping to Rickhart’s flank and striking low. Rickhart sidestepped out of the way, spinning around, as a small amount of blood was drawn. Timothy went to strike low and then went high. Rickhart foresaw this and blocked. Timothy’s sword came down with such might as to throw Rickhart off-balance again.

Timothy swapped the sword between hands, circled a little and flung his sword towards Rickhart’s legs, in one swift move. Rickhart off-balance and thrown off by so many movements, hastily blocked low. Then in the split second he saw the black-clad fighter change attacks and strike higher. Too late. The pain shot through Rickhart’s body as he watched his sword along with three fingers fall to the ground.

Timothy put his blade against Rickhart’s voice and then mimicked Tobias Grey’s voice, “Its all over Rickhart. You will pay severely for this.”

The metal doors slid open and Reaction Corp troops filled the room. The masked Timothy picked up the second blade, and intimating Rickhart’s voice, gave one final order, “Destroy him.”

Timothy disappeared out the door. He had to leave Verica for one of Palmer’s private retreats. If Palmer was killed or imprisoned; an identical double seen in public would not be a good idea.

Rickhart meanwhile looked at where his three middle fingers used to be, before staring at the Reaction Corp troops, “Get it over with then.”

Two Reaction Corp men seized Rickhart’s arms, cuffing them. This was repeated for his legs. A third man in blue walked up to the beaten Rickhart from the front and rested a dagger on his chest, then pressed in just slightly before pulling the blade down. Rickhart felt the skin along his chest carve in two. The man with knife then stood up fully, put the knife against one of Rickhart’s nipples and said, “I suppose you won’t be needing these.”

With that, the man tore it off with the knife. Rickhart screamed in pain. “Don’t like it?” asked the Reaction Corp soldier, “Tough.” He then remove the other nipple in the same fashion. Again Rickhart screamed in pain.

Rickhart saw someone bring in a bucket of water and a pair of goggles; he didn’t want to imagine what that was for. The knife dug into his chest again; another into his back. But they didn’t dig deep, “They are going to skin me alive! I never thought it would literally happen.”

He felt the crisscross of lines in his skin grow; and then the great pain of the first squares of skin being torn off. Rickhart’s scream was just as intense this time.

Another Reaction Corp soldier got out a step ladder and began shaving Rickhart’s hair. That wasn’t painful; although it annoyed Rickhart nearly as much as having the small patches of skin torn off, one by one.

“You know what else Mister Rickhart doesn’t need, boys?” declared one of the Reaction Corp troops.

There was a series of cries naming just about everyone Rickhart’s body parts. “Clothes,” yelled Reaction Corp soldier, cutting off Rickhart’s last garments.

The Reaction Corporation soldiers laughed; but Rickhart was far more concerned about his rapidly declining amount of skin. “Does someone smell burning?” called one of the Reaction Corp soldiers.

Another brought over a blowtorch, “If you don’t you will now.”

Rickhart screamed even louder as a large amount of heat was applied to his buttock. “Live organ donation,” declared another, cutting deep into Rickhart’s gut. Within minutes, Rickhart could see one of his kidneys. Blood and horror gusted out of him, the pain was numbingly intense. He was just about ready to pass out; as one of the Reaction Corp men started to try and mend damage.

“We need to hurry,” said one of the Reaction Corp soldier, “Black-shirts are breaking in. The building is burning.”

Rickhart was feeling dizzy as they pulled the goggles over his eyes. Then there was a painful snip. Rickhart realized that after loosing so much skin and blood; he had just lost his manhood. He was beyond caring. Soon he would be dead. Reaction Corporation planned to leave nothing left of him. He was too blurry to be in anger or in pain; but he knew what was next they were going to drown him in the bucket of water. All the sand had reached the bottom of the burning hourglass.

His face was slammed into the bucket; only it wasn’t water, the intense burning indicated acid. Rickhart struggled; tilting his head to the right so only one side was exposed. He kept his mouth closed throughout the intense fire on his face. His flesh was burning, bubbling and bleeding. The face was being eaten away, destroyed. Then the left goggle cracked and acid came running it. That’s when the world disappeared….

---

A black-shirt who seemed to be called Jack entered the second lounge room of the safe house, the room reserved for the Messian guests, “Milords, and milady; they’ve found a body.”

“A body?” Dasch exclaimed, “Because of the fact that we're at all out war, how do you know that this is a significant find?”

“The war has be restrained to the north,” noted Jack, “But its one of us. Lord Ackvick's presence has been requested at the hospital.”

“The hospital?” Ackvick inquired, “Who is it?”

“Its Daniel Rickhart,” said Jack, “Lisa has request your presence. Apparently Reaction Corporation made quite a mess of him.”

Dasch looked back at Ackvick. "We better get there posthaste. Tobias, Alana, you better come with us."

---

Ackvick, Dasch and Alana walked into Verica Hospital reception. “You look lost,” observed a receptionist, “Can I help you? Hey, you fellows look awfully familiar,” said the receptionist, “Hey you were that guy on TV, abusing the Messian invasion and that git in charge.”

"That would be me, yes," Ackvick replied, “We’re here to see the body of Dan Rickhart.”

The receptionist gave Ackvick a funny look, and proceeded to type at his screen, “I’m afraid I have no reports of Rickhart’s body in our morgue. Strange, Lord Ackvick, do you have an appointment with a psychologist, one Doctor James Lisa.”

Ackvick looked at the woman a little funny, “...Yes I do.”

“Well you’re late,” said receptionist, “Go up two floors, first left. On the right is room 2-P-16. Just knock.”

“Thank you,” Ackvick said politely, heading towards the room.

On the door, was note addressed to Ackvick reading, “To Ackvick. Wing 16. Look for Lord Brown. From Rickhart.”

“Rickhart..?” Ackvick wondered. He kept following the breadcrumbs.

In Lord Brown’s room, sat Lisa quietly and sadly, lying in the bed a peaceful Rickhart, half his face a bubbly, pussy mess; one of his eyes gone. His body was wrapped up to cover where he had been skinned alive. But a light beeping revealed he was just that; alive.

Ackvick walked slowly into the room. Dasch and Alana stayed at the door. Ackvick walked up to the side of the bed, and looked at the battered, old man.

“Is he going to survive?” Ackvick asked quietly. It took a ton of inner strength to keep himself from revolting.

“No,” said Lisa, “His psychological injuries are too great. They haven't just taken away half his face and his hair; they have taken his honour and his manhood. He has been exposed to a Farminan's greatest shame.”

She nearly choked as she spoke, “He has been sodomized repeatedly by force.”

Ackvick cringed, “There is only one hope for him, but that again may be against the morals of this country. But the question is, should he die, or should he live to destroy the Reaction Corps?”

“There is no more Reaction Corporation,” said Lisa, “He defeated them in the end.”

She then removed, one of the yellow envelopes from her jacket, “He has foreseen everything. He wrote down the prophecy in full. Lord Ackvick, he wanted you to do him the honour. He wants you to end his suffering. I cannot, I am not strong enough. His pistol is on the bed side table.”

She past Rickhart’s hand written prophecy; written more like a description than a prediction.

“I was thinking of doing it anyways,” Ackvick commented, “But...should we still try? Or should we let him die in shame?”

Lisa turned bright red, with grief and anger, “Has he not earned this one wish?”

Ackvick sighed, “He has in a sense. But at the same time, he could be more useful alive.” He grabbed the pistol, but wondered if he should use his own instead.

Rickhart’s one eye was ever watching; his eyes ever hearing. His mind now at peace. Ackvick’s pistol came to level, his finger on the trigger.

“I’d advise you against that,” said Tobias, stepping into the room, flanked by armed black-shirts, “If Rickhart dies, you die too.”

Ackvick dropped the gun. It fell and hit the floor, bouncing once, then landing on its side. Ackvick slowly turned around. “What do you mean?” Ackvick said.

“Rickhart shall live a life of pain and shame for his treachery,” said Grey, clearly angry, “I have been restored to the office of President. His plan has destroyed democracy not saved it. He should live forever if I had my way. May he feel every burning second.”

Ackvick shrugged, “I was not even prepared to kill him. The man did damage to both our countries, but my morals wanted me to put him out of his pain. But what did he do exactly?”

"The Parliament removed a democratically elected President; a foul abuse,” said Tobias, removing a metallic mask from his jacket, “Now as I suffer this injustice; he shall suffer every burning moment. And I shall smile and enjoy it.”

Tobias placed the mask over Rickhart's left face; tying in on with tight leather straps, “This will save on surgery costs.”

Ackvick frowned, “That said, it was needed, was it not?”

“It was not!” declared Tobias, “The people spoke. At the next election the people would review their own decision. Rulers can not be their own judges.”

“Alright, then I want a deal. It should be very easy to accept.”
“Rather, a plan of action.”

“Be quick about it,” said Tobias, clearly not in the mood for negotiation.

“We need to stop this war before it gets out of hand, at any cost,” warned Ackvick, “We also need to stop Snyder. He is way too dangerous.”

“I intend to stop it,” said Tobias, “Our armies will win. Your broadcast will be the end of the Messian threat. Your troops will turn on each other. Your industry will halt. Snyder's rule will be threatened from within his lands. He stands no chance.”

“However, I must ask to spare as much of our lives as possible,” commented Ackvick, “I admit we deserve what we received, but we need to cut down the bloodshed on both sides.”

“You are correct,” said Tobias, “You all deserve exactly what you get. All of you.”

He then spat on Rickhart’s fearsome metal mask, before storming out, muttering something about his wife and a nation full of traitors. The black-shirts stood perfectly still, their weapons leveled on the Messians and Lisa.

“Tobias, wait! After this is over, you should do an immediate election!”

But Tobias was gone. Rickhart’s eye looked around the room; not even he had foreseen this.

Ackvick turned back, and noticed Rickhart’s eye looking at him.

He walked up to him, “Can you speak?”

Rickhart looked from left to right; as though to shaking one’s eye as a strong man would shake one’s head..

Ackvick sighed, and turned around to the others. “Well, nuts. What do we do now?” he said, turning to Lisa. “What should we do now?”

Lisa checked the end of the prophecy, “I don’t know. This changes everything.”

She then turned her back to the black-shirts and removed the second envelope and pulled a small vial and a syringe, “Desperate times may call for desperate measures. This is what Rickhart uses to aid his logic prophecies.”

“What's the liquid?” Ackvick said quietly, trying to be out of earshot of the blackshirts.

“Di-hydrogen oxy propo something something,” said Lisa, “Rickhart’s notes describe it as a way of clearing the mind; but it bares great risks, the weak can get trapped in their thoughts. Rickhart’s notes describes that once even he was chased by the ghosts of the dead through his thoughts.”

Ackvick muttered, “And who exactly is supposed to take this?”

“He’s too weak,” said Lisa, “And I’m the only one here he trained pure logic. However, I will only take a small dose; and leave some for when Rickhart IS stronger.”

Lisa passed Ackvick, Rickhart’s chemistry notes and brought a small amount of the clear liquid up in the syringe. Then calmly she injected into her neck and closed her eyes.

“Its amazing,” she said, “I see Snyder; I am Snyder! He is watching the broadcast. He has heard of Grey’s return. Rumours are reaching him that Rickhart lives. Worse a third power is rising. The Northern Colonies will for war is faltering. Fear is gripping him. We must spread the word that Rickhart lives.”

Then Rickhart’s ruined face came to her mind, “For so long, he remained dashing and handsome despite his many years. Evil did what time could not. The hourglass burnt. Rickhart burnt. No one should go through that. If I was stronger I could have done something. I’ve failed him. I’ve failed everyone. I could have saved her too. I’m weak, too weak.”

Lisa collapsed and began convulsing on the floor. Her body shook violently, as she vomited, before her eyes rolled up into her head and she ceased to be. From his bed, Rickhart could not see what had happened. But he knew; and a stream of tears rolled from his eye.

The black-shirts turned in shock and amazement, before calling a nurse to clean the mess.

Ackvick saw her die, and felt bad for the woman. He then walked up to Rickhart, “Do you want to help me defeat Snyder?”

The damp eye nodded up and down. Soon the world would turn full-circle.

---

The Puppeteer sat in the dark, his eyes flicking from screen to screen. “What has happened?” demanded the HateSpeaker, leader of the Cultists, “The Moralists are back in power. All our work is undone.”

The Puppeteer spoke firmly in his elderly voice, “This is as I have seen it. Farmina is weakened by war and hatred. Dan Rickhart is probably dead, and even if he lives, his relationship with Tobias Grey is shattered. The perfect team of logic and bluff, chess and poker, Rickhart and Grey, is no more. Better still, the Moralists and their Labour allies are more divided than ever. Grey’s Moralists worked with Palmer. The Labour and the Moralist left and right purposely circumvented democracy to prevent a revote and later remove an elected President; splitting them from the Grey’s own Moral Democrats. Left against right; democracy against authority, Rickhart’s supporters against Grey. So many divisions, so little unity. Gentlemen, our plan is complete. We have defeated the Moralists!”

There was a stunned silence, then a digitized applause recognizing the true genius of the Puppeteer’s plan. Traps within traps. Rickhart had been given the choice between the destruction of the Moralists and a Farmina ruled by Palmer. Rickhart chose the lesser of two evils; predictable logic.

The Puppeteer smiled, and thought, “Soon the world shall learn my true name. Soon the end game shall be revealed.”

OOC: The Burning Hourglass: Full Circle (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=482037)

Snyder was barking commands to the fleet when one of his men interupted him.

"Mi'lord, we have a problem that needs your immediate attention!"

Snyder turned in anger. "Can't you see that we're busy, Corporal?!"

The corporal stood unphased, "Mi'lord! You must see this, this is of utmost importance!"

Snyder sighed, nodded, and stomed behind the corporal. "This better be good corporal."

The corporal sat down next to a screen in the communications area. He pressed a few buttons, and Ackvick's speech came up. Snyder's face turned from rage to the look of fear, for a brief but noticable second.

"This can't be good..." Snyder said. "Prepare our forces to keep the rest of the nation in line."