NationStates Jolt Archive

---Imperial Palace, Geon, Pythogria, 10:00 PM, Central Pythogrian Time---

The Supreme General, Khonsu Izakabad, looked over his speech on the computer. No... too patriotic. Nah, too... I dunno. That's not right...

He edited the speech.

"Gosh..." he said aloud. "Why is it so hard to give what the people want... even in a democracy?"

What DID the people want? Socialism. They had seen it work and wanted to try it. As a democratic leader, the Supreme General was obliged. However, to sway the non-believers, he needed a speech. And that's what he was doing now.

After a long, long, LONG few hours of editing, it was finished. Khonsu heard some footsteps, and his daughter, Cereath Izakabad, only 8 years old, poked her face into the room. "I'm going to bed now." she said.

"Well, yes, I guess I had better as well." her adoptive father, the Supreme General, responded. "Good night, and see you tomorrow."

It would be a rather trying day, but Khonsu didn't know that yet.

---Tomorrow, Citizen Square, Geon, Pythogria, 12:00 Noon---

"People! Citizens! Friends! I have seen what you want. You hae asked repeatedly. And unfortunately, I have been unable to give what you wanted. A Leftist, Socialist government. And now, I will give it. As Supreme Gemneral, I..."

OOC: This is where you come in, The German One.

Unknown to the general, while he was editing his speech, Adolf Trager was editing his plans as well.

Trager (to his military leaders at a table): A socialist government? They want to be socialist? Civil rights...welfare...the very idea of it all makes me want to vomit. Pansy governments like these will never get anywhere and are against what we believe in. Now...I have drawn up some plans...

As the general continues his speech, a cell phone goes off. Another irritating person, the one who never turns their cell phone off, and it goes off in the movies just to tick off the people who have had the unluckiness to sit behind them. As others turn briefly to see the offender he smiles sheepishly.

The sheepish and rude man is actually smiling because the plan is in motion. He is the signal and now the gears are turning in Trager's plan. A man close to the front of the line approaches the stage that the general is standing on, between his armed guards. The man by the codename of "Black One" steps onto the stage and is quickly warned by the armed guards to step off. Black One, however, quickly slams his heels together and the vial attatched to his left shoe cracks against the boot on his right foot and the small container ruptures. A small fog begins to pour forth from his feet, spreading quickly.

Black One: Socialism can cloud a government's judgement...

The armed guards quickly gun down the assailant and don gas masks. The crowd is in chaos and running, choking from the cheap chemical fog that is filling their lungs. The general puts on a gas mask as well and believes it to be over, the supposed assassin is dead.

However, the obstruction of view because of the smoke keeps this false belief true until it settles. When the smoke settles there are two armed guards on the platform wearing gas masks and a mere hole in the stage where the general was standing moments ago. After a quick investigation, it is seen that there is a small tunnel dug under the stage leading underground...

Unknown to the general, while he was editing his speech, Adolf Trager was editing his plans as well.

Trager (to his military leaders at a table): A socialist government? They want to be socialist? Civil rights...welfare...the very idea of it all makes me want to vomit. Pansy governments like these will never get anywhere and are against what we believe in. Now...I have drawn up some plans...

As the general continues his speech, a cell phone goes off. Another irritating person, the one who never turns their cell phone off, and it goes off in the movies just to tick off the people who have had the unluckiness to sit behind them. As others turn briefly to see the offender he smiles sheepishly.

The sheepish and rude man is actually smiling because the plan is in motion. He is the signal and now the gears are turning in Trager's plan. A man close to the front of the line approaches the stage that the general is standing on, between his armed guards. The man by the codename of "Black One" steps onto the stage and is quickly warned by the armed guards to step off. Black One, however, quickly slams his heels together and the vial attatched to his left shoe cracks against the boot on his right foot and the small container ruptures. A small fog begins to pour forth from his feet, spreading quickly.

Black One: Socialism can cloud a government's judgement...

The armed guards quickly gun down the assailant and don gas masks. The crowd is in chaos and running, choking from the cheap chemical fog that is filling their lungs. The general puts on a gas mask as well and believes it to be over, the supposed assassin is dead.

However, the obstruction of view because of the smoke keeps this false belief true until it settles. When the smoke settles there are two armed guards on the platform wearing gas masks and a mere hole in the stage where the general was standing moments ago. After a quick investigation, it is seen that there is a small tunnel dug under the stage leading underground...

"Where's the General? WHERE'S THE GENERAL?"

"This is Pythogrian World News. The Supreme General has disappeared!"

"This is Faux News! Aliens stole the General!"

This sort of thing ravaged the nation. Inside the palace, chaos reigned. The Chief Advisor, John Geralt, had been placed as Sub-Supreme General temporarily, but still... it is a difficult time.

He adressed the nation.

"Citizens! As you know, our beloved Supreme General, Khonsu Izakabad, has been kidnapped! I call upon our citizens, if you have any information, please present it! And to the scum that commited this act... you will not live long."

Police were everywhere. He would never get out of Pythogria. Never.

And in secret, the Sub-Supreme General thought of the Laroos Nuclear Doctrine.

This was one thing that justified it.

This justified the usage of PYthogria's arsenal.

All of the warheads.

Every last one of the 5,000 they had.

In the temporary terrorist base, underneath Geon...

Black Leader: Yes sir, everything went as planned, however Krexon was martyred for his beliefs of anti-socialism.

The black ops in the room and the image of Trager on the screen slowly look down in reverence to Krexon's sacrifice.

Trager: He will be remembered. Let us not let him have died for nothing. We will change this country for the better. How is the prisoner?

The Supreme General stirred, a lump slowly forming on his head. Looking around, he realizes that he is in chains on a fairly comfortable bed surrounded by men in black robes brandishing automatic weaponry.

Black Leader: He is doing fine, I assume you wish to speak with him?

Trager: Yes, i do. So, Mr. Izakabad...I trust you are comfy? Of course you aren't. You are a good man, worried about your people, as you should be. Your actions of preaching socialism disgust me, and I will not tolerate it. I know that it is your constituents, not you, who are wanting to follow this governmental plan of action, and that is why the people will pay. You were the first step of my plans.

Miles away, in the capitol building, a man with a scar across his left eye bumps into a presidential secretary. As the papers in her arms fly to the floor he curses and apologizes sincerely, at least ten times. After they pick up the papers and he hands them all back to her she delivers them to her desk. A hard day at work, she begins looking through the papers...

One hour later, she finds a piece of paper that is not of the type of normal busy work that her boss usually throws at her... it is a letter written with a red pen...

The Black Marc has your general, and we will continue to hold him in our custody until our demands have been met. You will give us 10 million dollars. One representative of your presidential office must meet me in the corner at the plaza in front of your national monument there. Come alone. We have the list of employees in that building, and I want NO interference or he will die. An eight year old without a father? Think of the people, not the money.

In the temporary terrorist base, underneath Geon...

Black Leader: Yes sir, everything went as planned, however Krexon was martyred for his beliefs of anti-socialism.

The black ops in the room and the image of Trager on the screen slowly look down in reverence to Krexon's sacrifice.

Trager: He will be remembered. Let us not let him have died for nothing. We will change this country for the better. How is the prisoner?

The Supreme General stirred, a lump slowly forming on his head. Looking around, he realizes that he is in chains on a fairly comfortable bed surrounded by men in black robes brandishing automatic weaponry.

Black Leader: He is doing fine, I assume you wish to speak with him?

Trager: Yes, i do. So, Mr. Izakabad...I trust you are comfy? Of course you aren't. You are a good man, worried about your people, as you should be. Your actions of preaching socialism disgust me, and I will not tolerate it. I know that it is your constituents, not you, who are wanting to follow this governmental plan of action, and that is why the people will pay. You were the first step of my plans.

Miles away, in the capitol building, a man with a scar across his left eye bumps into a presidential secretary. As the papers in her arms fly to the floor he curses and apologizes sincerely, at least ten times. After they pick up the papers and he hands them all back to her she delivers them to her desk. A hard day at work, she begins looking through the papers...

One hour later, she finds a piece of paper that is not of the type of normal busy work that her boss usually throws at her... it is a letter written with a red pen...

The Black Marc has your general, and we will continue to hold him in our custody until our demands have been met. You will give us 10 million dollars. One representative of your presidential office must meet me in the corner at the plaza in front of your national monument there. Come alone. We have the list of employees in that building, and I want NO interference or he will die. An eight year old without a father? Think of the people, not the money.

The General replied to his captors. "I am not a Socialist. Nor am I a Communist. Nor am I Capitalist or Fascist. I do what the people of Pythogria want."

---Back in the Palace---

"They want WHAT!?!?"

"Yes sir. Ten million dollars."

"Only ten million? One MBT costs that much. Pfft. Where do they want to meet us?"

"Corner of the Obelisk Monument Plaza."

"Do so. Send in Robert Golain."

"Yes, sir."

---Plaza---

Robert Golain, a Pythogrian diplomat, waited in the corner of the plaza. Where are they...?

A man named Hector steps out of the crowd gathered in front of the obelisk and sees the man with a briefcase.

Hector: So I see you brought it. There was no need for you to actually bring the money, we have no need for a mere ten million dollars. Wondering what we want then? We want to wake the country up. You see, Robert, the thing about socialism is that it makes everyone worry about everyone else's well being, and everybody being equal. Socialism does not discriminate. Allow me to help you along. Can a country discriminate if everyone is socialist? The same question, can a country disriminate if they all have the same disease?

At this moment the plaza's sprinkler system engages. Its a hot day and it is a welcome change in temperature for most, until an uneasy smell hits their nostrils. That isn't fresh water, it is mixed with Zyklon-XX, a chemical agent that eats through skin and causes severe nerve damage. If swallowed, Zyklon-XX could erode away someone's insides...

A man named Hector steps out of the crowd gathered in front of the obelisk and sees the man with a briefcase.

Hector: So I see you brought it. There was no need for you to actually bring the money, we have no need for a mere ten million dollars. Wondering what we want then? We want to wake the country up. You see, Robert, the thing about socialism is that it makes everyone worry about everyone else's well being, and everybody being equal. Socialism does not discriminate. Allow me to help you along. Can a country discriminate if everyone is socialist? The same question, can a country disriminate if they all have the same disease?

At this moment the plaza's sprinkler system engages. Its a hot day and it is a welcome change in temperature for most, until an uneasy smell hits their nostrils. That isn't fresh water, it is mixed with Zyklon-XX, a chemical agent that eats through skin and causes severe nerve damage. If swallowed, Zyklon-XX could erode away someone's insides...

Robert is unaffected, as ZS-2 armor is very protective against most things. But the civillians... are. Paramedics are on the scene soon, and the sprinklers are shut off. In the end, some 23 citizens are dead.

Robert, however, is unarmed. But the police... the police are. They surround Hector, and aim ZP-1 pistols at him. In the end, 10 men are around him, and all are readyto shoot.

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP! DROP EVERYTHING!"

Handcuffs are slapped onto him, and he is put in a prison cell.

The Sub-Supreme General adressedx the terrorists:

"You filty scum! You will not make it out alive! In return for your operative, we expect OUR Supreme Generl back! We do not care if you kill him. It only makes it more justified for us to kill you. And should you kill him... we will kill Hector.

With pleasure."

Hector sits in his prison cell, pondering the latest events. He had heard the report...23 people...dead...many more recovering...

A small, thin smile spread across his lips. His job had finished. Not only had he planted the Zyklon-XX into the sprinkler system, but he had used it and contaminated the groundwater it sunk into after the plaza was sprayed. They would remember him. They would remember him.

Hector knew how martyr's were treated. He knew how they were legends, they were talked about. Cheers were made to their names. Hector accomplished his mission, but was captured. They could torture him, they might be able to extract the base's location from him. He would not have his now godlike name tainted by the possibility of his betrayal.

Sighing deeply, Hector gave himself a quick chop to the side of his own neck, breaking the cyanide capsule surgically added beneath his own skin in case he was captured. Sinking back onto the cell floor, Hector's eyes closed, the same smile still on his lips.

They would remember him.

The groundwater was easy to clean, being enclosed by concrete on all sides, but it was still one nasty attack.

News:

"Hector, a terrorist operative, has commited suicide!"

"Faux here! Homicide bomber bites dust!"

The Sub-Supreme General sighed. "Penny, I want this dealt with. Security... double... no... triple it."

"Yes sir." She resonded.

Patrols were quickened and made more frequent. All bags were searched. In the end, Pythogria became a fortress.

Police and Black Ops agents still searched for the Supreme General. Emily was cared for by the Sub-Supreme General, but it was still very trying.

OOC: Is it OK if I find him?

OOC: Lets keep negotiations about the attacks in the telegrams. This is just as much a story for people reading as much as it is a story for us to write. Lets keep them in suspense.

IC: Deep in the base, Black Leader is very pleased with the victory. Even more importantly...Trager will be pleased.

He has been instructed to lay low until security loosens up on the surface. Then another demonstration will take place until the populace understands that they will need to vote for more military and less equality and welfare.

OOC: Lets keep negotiations about the attacks in the telegrams. This is just as much a story for people reading as much as it is a story for us to write. Lets keep them in suspense.

IC: Deep in the base, Black Leader is very pleased with the victory. Even more importantly...Trager will be pleased.

He has been instructed to lay low until security loosens up on the surface. Then another demonstration will take place until the populace understands that they will need to vote for more military and less equality and welfare.

OOC: OK. Also, good luck influencing Pythogrian citizens...

IC:

Security would not let up. Not until the Supreme General was found. Again, the Sub-Supreme General told the terrorists he would not hesitate to use nuclear weapojns on any nation supporting them.

Bump

The city is in a state of slight unrest. Nothing has stopped the terrorists and this latest attack on the plaza has stirred up trouble in Pythogria.

Black Leader: With our success at the plaza and Hector's staunch loyalty to the cause, we will make our "marc" on these people. We must protect them from themselves with brutality. Force is the only way to keep people in control. It is the only way to keep them doing what they may not want to do in order to give them what they need.

Trager (on the screen): Exactly. You have learned well. Forcing the people to not be socialist is like forcing children to not eat a lot of candy. Of course they don't like it, but its what is best. Commence with the next attack.

Black Leader: Yes sir, we will make our marc. (turning to the man standing next to him) I need to speak with Eichmann.

The man runs off to get Eichmann. Ten minutes later...

Eichmann: Yes sir, you called?

Black Leader: Yes. I want you to do something about the fact that...

The city is in a state of slight unrest. Nothing has stopped the terrorists and this latest attack on the plaza has stirred up trouble in Pythogria.

Black Leader: With our success at the plaza and Hector's staunch loyalty to the cause, we will make our "marc" on these people. We must protect them from themselves with brutality. Force is the only way to keep people in control. It is the only way to keep them doing what they may not want to do in order to give them what they need.

Trager (on the screen): Exactly. You have learned well. Forcing the people to not be socialist is like forcing children to not eat a lot of candy. Of course they don't like it, but its what is best. Commence with the next attack.

Black Leader: Yes sir, we will make our marc. (turning to the man standing next to him) I need to speak with Eichmann.

The man runs off to get Eichmann. Ten minutes later...

Eichmann: Yes sir, you called?

Black Leader: Yes. I want you to do something about the fact that...

---TV Broadcast---

"Citizens of Pythogria. To help combat the terrorist threat lurking in Geon, I hereby announce that the police force in Geon, and soldiers occupying it, will double. This is only for the safety of our citizens, nothing more. Once this threat is stopped, the forces will withdraw."

OOC: Do your terrorists have any kind of racisal bias? Are they Nazis?

OOC: No, we aren't racist, we just don't like people who bring the country down, whatever race they might be. Oh, and in case you are wondering, I use the nseconomy.thirdgeek calculator

IC:

Eichmann sat outside the country's main welfare office. This country spends 289 billion dollars on welfare. Thats 307 dollars per capita. He shakes his head as he notes that even this insane number is far less than some of the more "equality stricken" nations out there. However, they must all "pay." Welfare would be better spent in security in order to keep things like this happening...

Eichmann sits in the welfare building with a briefcase. This briefcase is filled with money. The inquisitive looks from the welfare officers cause him to reply that the briefcase is full of money that he received by mistake by receiving his welfare check twice for that month. He is trying to return it over the counter.

The heightened security causes him to panic, however, and he makes his move too soon causing his own life to be forfeit. He presses a button on the back of his wristwatch and the false bottom of the suitcase falls out, releasing a gas named Bio-Zeta Destro. Everyone in the room begins to choke and develop large open sores, including Eichmann...

OOC: No, we aren't racist, we just don't like people who bring the country down, whatever race they might be. Oh, and in case you are wondering, I use the nseconomy.thirdgeek calculator

IC:

Eichmann sat outside the country's main welfare office. This country spends 289 billion dollars on welfare. Thats 307 dollars per capita. He shakes his head as he notes that even this insane number is far less than some of the more "equality stricken" nations out there. However, they must all "pay." Welfare would be better spent in security in order to keep things like this happening...

Eichmann sits in the welfare building with a briefcase. This briefcase is filled with money. The inquisitive looks from the welfare officers cause him to reply that the briefcase is full of money that he received by mistake by receiving his welfare check twice for that month. He is trying to return it over the counter.

The heightened security causes him to panic, however, and he makes his move too soon causing his own life to be forfeit. He presses a button on the back of his wristwatch and the false bottom of the suitcase falls out, releasing a gas named Bio-Zeta Destro. Everyone in the room begins to choke and develop large open sores, including Eichmann...


OOC: Erm... no. You'd never get that gas into Pythogria. Never. I do not sell WMDs among my citizens (of course) and... well, smuggling is going to be very, very diffucult with all the security I have. But I will allow this once. After, you will have to explain exactly how you get this kind of stuff into Pythogria.

IC:

Bio-Zeta Destro happens to be a gas very, very harmful to people. Very. The gas fills the room, and people run out, covered in sores. The policemen and policewomen are unaffected (wearing ZS-1 Armor) and immediately capture Eichmann. He is brought to hospital. The government would have... other... plans for him.

Paramedics arrive, and take people to hospital. After the incedent is over, 12 are dead, most elderly, and 34 are recovering in hospitals.

In a prison cell, Eichmann is stripped of all weapons, and suicide pills and a knife are consfinscated.

OOC: Would I know where some of your operatives are? 'Cause I've heard of an effective way of dealing with these people...

OOC: Okay, I'll roleplay the smuggling better. Sorry about that, thanks for being a good sport. As for future RP in this thread, such as do you know where some are, don't ask here. Ask in telegrams.

IC:

Black Leader: Eichmann panicked. Thats not good...

Grunt: There is no way he will talk. No way. He knows the penalty should he give in to them. No matter the torture, he won't say anything.

Black Leader: He better not. Trager will not be happy that Eichmann was captured. Honestly, I think that he will talk...I want him watched.

Grunt: Yes sir, right away. I hope you are wrong, sir.

Black Leader: I hope I am too. I pray I am right. You know what Trager would do to me if our mission in this nation does not work...


Later that day, in the Geon Public Hospital, under extreme security...

Eichmann wakes up to a throbbing headache and a searing pain in his left arm. Screaming, he clutches at his left arm only to see that he did not have one. The Destro had eaten away at it and they had to amputate to keep it from killing him. Crying to himself softly, he realized that he would die here. It would be better if he just killed himself now. Reaching his remaining hand up to the left side of his neck he slapped the suicide pill only to realize that he had a scab there from where they had removed it. Shaken badly, Eichmann realized that they knew what they were doing.

At this point in time, the patrolman walked into the room and waved other guards in to see that Eichmann was awake.

Seeing the military units in the room, Eichmann did what he was known for...he panicked. Crying softly and screaming loudly, he threw information at them.

Eichmann: Oh God! Don't kill me, I swear I will tell you anything you want to know! I never even wanted to do this mission, I did it for the mortgage! Honest! Please believe me! If I tell you, will you let me go? I'll tell you anything! First, they are planning on car-bombing the low-income section of the city! I'm not lying, you have to believe me!

Across the street, on top of the building labeled "Sassy Scissors," a grunt from the Black Marc sits with a sniper rifle, waiting to get a good shot in case Eichmann had started talking. Back in the hospital...

Eichmann: I am not lying to you, you have to believe me! Tell ya what...I'll tell you where the hideout is! Its right next to the-

The sniper had finally got a good shot and took it. Eichmann took a sniper round between the eyes, dying instantly, his treasonous tongue finally coming to rest.

Miles away, Black Leader has his men put the finishing touches on a home-made bomb with a small blast radius of 20 feet and the ability to be attatched to the underside of a car...

OOC: Okay, I'll roleplay the smuggling better. Sorry about that, thanks for being a good sport. As for future RP in this thread, such as do you know where some are, don't ask here. Ask in telegrams.

IC:

Black Leader: Eichmann panicked. Thats not good...

Grunt: There is no way he will talk. No way. He knows the penalty should he give in to them. No matter the torture, he won't say anything.

Black Leader: He better not. Trager will not be happy that Eichmann was captured. Honestly, I think that he will talk...I want him watched.

Grunt: Yes sir, right away. I hope you are wrong, sir.

Black Leader: I hope I am too. I pray I am right. You know what Trager would do to me if our mission in this nation does not work...


Later that day, in the Geon Public Hospital, under extreme security...

Eichmann wakes up to a throbbing headache and a searing pain in his left arm. Screaming, he clutches at his left arm only to see that he did not have one. The Destro had eaten away at it and they had to amputate to keep it from killing him. Crying to himself softly, he realized that he would die here. It would be better if he just killed himself now. Reaching his remaining hand up to the left side of his neck he slapped the suicide pill only to realize that he had a scab there from where they had removed it. Shaken badly, Eichmann realized that they knew what they were doing.

At this point in time, the patrolman walked into the room and waved other guards in to see that Eichmann was awake.

Seeing the military units in the room, Eichmann did what he was known for...he panicked. Crying softly and screaming loudly, he threw information at them.

Eichmann: Oh God! Don't kill me, I swear I will tell you anything you want to know! I never even wanted to do this mission, I did it for the mortgage! Honest! Please believe me! If I tell you, will you let me go? I'll tell you anything! First, they are planning on car-bombing the low-income section of the city! I'm not lying, you have to believe me!

Across the street, on top of the building labeled "Sassy Scissors," a grunt from the Black Marc sits with a sniper rifle, waiting to get a good shot in case Eichmann had started talking. Back in the hospital...

Eichmann: I am not lying to you, you have to believe me! Tell ya what...I'll tell you where the hideout is! Its right next to the-

The sniper had finally got a good shot and took it. Eichmann took a sniper round between the eyes, dying instantly, his treasonous tongue finally coming to rest.

Miles away, Black Leader has his men put the finishing touches on a home-made bomb with a small blast radius of 20 feet and the ability to be attatched to the underside of a car...


The interrogator was shocked, and pulled his gun. "Secure this hospital!"

Soldiers ran through the area, fortifying it.

Inside the building, a police officer had heard a strange blasting noise. He came up onto the roof and sighted the man with the rifle. He shouted, "Get down!" and aimed his weapon. He called for backup, and three police officers came and arrested him.

OOC: No problem.

IC:

In the lower-income section of the city, infantry waited with assialt rifles, anticipating bombings.

OOC: Just to let you know, as there's no roads in Pythogria (footpaths, conveyor belts, and bullet trains are used instead) you will, of course, have a hard time car-bombing. :p