NationStates Jolt Archive

Sunday, August 13, 2076
Missile Silo Complex, Megalith. Located in the Central Desert, Dephire:

"Is the missile ready?"

The man who spoke wore a robe with a hood that hid his face. He spoke English quite well, but was rather clumsy on the pronunciation of some special words of the Dephirian language.

"Everything is accounted for, Vega."

Vega laughed behind his veil.

"This will be a wakeup call for Alexander. No one can kill Vega. Get me the launch keys."

One of the other men bent over a guard that was surrounded by a dark pool. A hole was through the guard's head.

"Here you go, sir."

Vega took the keys and inserted them into a console.

"As soon as the missile hits deep space, it will change heading for the Orbital Space Platform just directly above Dephire. When the missile gets within range of the Platform, it will detonate sending a shockwave that will knock the Satellite out of orbit and will then fall back towards the ground at super high speeds. The Satellite will liquify in re-entry, becoming a mass of molten material within moments. Its target is the city of Ignarko, just outside of Alexandria's walls."

The other men laughed as a rumbling was heard in the distance. A computerized voice was heard in the loudspeakers.

"Nuclear Missile Launch in Three...Two...One..."

A thunderous roar shook the complex as the large Inter-Continental Ballistic Nuclear Missile took off. Vega and his comrades kept watch of it's course on the console's monitor. Several hours later, it had finally exited the atmosphere, where it picked up speed. The Platform was in sight, it was merely the size of a pinpoint from this distance. Ten seconds were left. Now the Platform was showing it's true massive size. Five seconds. The missile's engine went cold, inertia would do the rest. Boom. A large spot of light was seen at ground level, then it dissapated. The platform was sent on a non-stop heading towards it's intended target. Already, it was glowing red from the friction of re-entry. Seconds later, it was liquifying. Citizens of Ignarko looked up at the sky in time to see the molten mass break up into several large, smaller pieces. It collided with the ground just moments after the glimpses. A large seismic wave smashed through the surrounding buildings, and was reported as a level ten in magnitude on the Rhector scale. The city of Ignarko laid in ruins as the molten mass caused several fires, and decimated the structures.

Several Days Later:

News Report:

"It has been five days since the attack on the city of Ignarko, and the culprits responsible have finally claimed to have done this. Here is the video that they left in our mailbox."

The image blurred for a moment as tapes were changed. Now a man was being seen sitting behind a make-shift desk. He seemed to sit rather tall, but his face was hidden by a mask.

"Citizens of Dephire. I have returned."

It was the unmistable voice of Former Admiral, Scatio Vega. As many can recall, he was the one responsible for the first Civil War. He was also supposedly killed during an attack in the still conflicting Chitzeland Conflict. Now he was sitting in front of a camera claiming responsibility. The picture faded as the Dephirian Leader, Alexander, was shown standing behind a black marble podium. His face showed no emotion, but everyone knew that he was furious.

"I hereby declare, due to a high rise in threatining intent, that there shall be a curfew of Six o'clock PM. If you are caught being outside during that time, you will be arrested and dealt with accordingly. The only citizens allowed after that time are the police, and any military personel. Separist Leader, Vega is a fool in thinking that he can spark a war just by destroying a city. Well, he is only half correct. He has started a war, but not a large-scaled one that he so dreamt. Vega has just started a war with himself. Let him have his personal war. And let us live our lives to their fullest. Thank you."

Once again, the picture blurred. Now there was a news woman sitting behind a table. She was blonde haired and blue eyed, and was in a pink suit.

"Alexander's speech was short, yet straight forward. His topic of choice? The threat imposed by Separist Leader, Vega. Yes, he's back, and he is still trying to spark an everlasting war. A war that could tear Dephire apart. Soon after his appearance had been made on national tellevision, those still loyal to him have risen back up from the ashes. Everywhere, riots have hit the streets...all except within the city walls of Alexandria. Of course, Alexandria is mostly Loyalist according to a recent survey. So this bears no surprise. More reports have indicated that Alexander has roused the military, or whatever is left of it to be more precise. Since Vega's return, there has been many military personel that have gone rogue and have joined the Separists in yet another attempt to overthrow the Leader, Alexander himself. Further reports indicate that Alexander has called for foreign aid. As everyone should recall, Dephire had become a member of GASN. Also known as, the Global Alliance of Sovereign Nations. Alexander hopes that they might throw in some assistance towards getting rid of this nuisance."

Deploying

2x X-19 Class
2x Atlantis Hyper Carrier
15x Econ Class
10x Leon Class
8x Ion Class
6x Heg Class
4x Petsin Class
10x Squid Class
12x Shark Class
15x Octopus class
4x Freedom Class

40,000 Marines
480 Howlers
480 Howlers

500 F-29's
200 F-35's
150 B-52's
30 B-5's
10 AWACS
10 Safeguard Countemeasure Aircraft

OOC:
Thanks for sending the support. Hopefully this will get heated up soon enough.

OCC: If we have to fight these guys in the jungle, do I have permission to use napalm?

OOC: Sure I guess. I'm still a bit baffled that I even have a jungle leftover after all of my raids for more Uranium and oil.:p

Johan Tjaden had watched on GASN News Network Wanderjar, the devestation of the city Ignarko by nuclear weapons. Johan, a high school student on Wanderjar's New Prussia Island, was eighteen, and entering his last semester as a Senior.

"Good god," He said to himself, as the camera men focused their lenses on the wreckage. "I have never seen anything so horrible."

"The world is a terrible place," His mother said.

"Yes it is, but.....this? I hope the Dephirans find him real soon and try him at GASN HQ for mass murder. He deserves no less."

"However true, that is a cold statement." His Mother replied, her voice worried by the dark edge of his words.

"I only wish I could have put it in a stronger way." Was his reply. He got up off his couch, and walked into the kitchen. He could not wait until his obligatory year of service. He envisioned limitless adventure, glory, and the women who would fall over him from the medals he would recieve. He would kill hundreds of enemy soldiers with his bare hands! And brag to the ladies at the local Tavern.

But he still have three months of schooling left, then 4 years of college, because his family wanted him to become an officer.

"Well, all in good time," He said to himself, as he grabbed a water bottle out of the refrigerator. He walked up the stairs to his room, and laid on his bed. He scanned around his room. Upon the wall were dozens of posters from the Wanderjarian Imperial Marine Corps, each talking of the Pride and Honor of being a Marine. The limitless comradery, and infinite glory. In one, a Marine stood in their traditional full black dress suit, with red "Blood Stripes" going down the pants legs. Upon the shoulders were a pair of black rank epaulettes, with dual red stripes going down the center, and a single star of a Second Lieutenant. The Red upon the epaulette, represented Marine Corps membership, as oppose to being in the Navy, or in this man's case, a Naval Officer. Down the front of the suit were six large brass buttons, each about an inch in circumfrance, going down both sides, totalling twelve immaculately placed buttons. Upon them, was emblazoned an Anchor, signifying being under the Wanderjarian Navy, though the red epaulette's showed them to be superior, or at least in Johan's mind. Upon his head was a Black Goats wool hat, with the Wanderjarian Communist Star shining brilliantly upon it, and in the center of the Red Star, was a golden Hammer and Sickle.

Scanning the room further, there was another favorite, with a Wanderjarian Naval Aviator, flying an F/A-18, dropping a 2000 lbs. bomb on an enemy installation, and a brilliant explosion against the setting sun. A truly beautiful picture.

Johan was not especially tall, only standing at Five feet, eleven inches, but was fairly muscular, and in great endurance shape. He enjoyed running three to four mile runs in the mornings as a wake up, then lifting with his other friends, which all shared his zeal for wanting to enter the military. He, however, was the luckiest, because he had been accepted into New Prussia Military College, where they had not, and though he would miss them, he was quite happy to go by himself.

As he laid in bed, thinking of all the wonderful adventures he would lead, and beautiful women he would woo, he drifted off into a deep, and contented sleep.

Private First Class John Khaine had wanted to join the Marine Corps since he was 12 years old. He was so obessed about them, his friends called him insane and largely ignored him at his school. Of course, there was a hardcore group, one that shared his love. John could remember the last time he was in his room, Marine and Military posters covered his walls. Military books were all that was in his bookcase. His 10,000 credit computer that he had worked so hard for. His girlfriends picture. He had savored that moment. He walked out of that room, off to Marine Corps Basic Training at Camp Chesty. It had been awhile since then. When he was young, all he dreamed about, indeed, really wanted, was to go to War. He knew the horrors of it, sure. But there was just something inside him, something that indeed, begged him to it. He had tried to supress it at first, but soon it had taken control of him. Private First Class John Keith Khaine wanted War. He would soon have it.

A rogue reporter was walking through the streets of the city with full body armour on, and a helmet atop his head. Both of which looked American, but there was a black star painted on them to show that the reporter was infact a Dephirian Civilian. His cameraman was in matching apparel, but the escourt was in the Standardized Dephirian Army Armoured suit. The reporter spoke quickly, afraid that at any moment, he could be shot.

"The city of Ignarko lays in ruins after what could be considered as the most devastating terrorist attacks in World History. At the moment, the death toll has risen to almost fifty million people. Several million are still unacounted for, many could be very well missing or on vacation..."

The camera focused on something that moved several hundred yards behind the reporter.

"W-What is it??"

The camera refocused on the reporter.

"Nothing. Must of been just a bird."

The rogue nodded and wiped his brow, then continued his story.

"...Ten million people survived out of eighty million. Most of the deaths occured over by the Business District. Alexander has declared this entire area and area of extreme interest. No one is allowed in nor out except for authorized personnel or the residents that live here. There have been some reports that various factions have begun fighting here, however, we have not yet been able to confirm..."

Once again the camera focused behind the reporter.

"Now what is it??"

The soldier yelled "Get Down!" just in time for the group to duck from a spray of bullets. They crawled safely away, and within a few hours...the video was broadcasted throughout National tellevision and through GASN tellevision.

(OOC: TPF? That post was about you, wasn't it?


So was mine. :))

OCC: yea... people think im insane:( course, I will prove them wrong. :) When i get fit.

OOC: It's alright guys. Oh, and I'm sorry for making the random reports and other stuff that won't be directed to you guys. Well, it is sorta. I'm just setting up a storyline for the war.

Khaine finally got what he wanted.

" Listen up!" yelled his Squad Leader, Sergeant D.J Delz.
" Yesterday, some manaic in Dephire launched a nuclear missile into space."
Several voices, including John's rose up.
" Shut up! The nuclear missile blew up an orbital weapons station, it rained molten metal down at a city. The Death toll is at 50 million and is going to climb.
The voices that rose up were no longer wondering voices, they were angry, swearing voices, ones that wanted revenge.
" Oh yes! Thats right Marines! We are not going to let this bastard go!"
" I just got the orders for the Capt'n! We are Going to kick some ass! Get some! Get some Marines!"

A couple days later, Johan saw a News reported come under fire by Separatist Forces in Dephire. He watched in horror as civillians who had survived the bombing were carried off in stretchers, their faces and bodies burned and covered in swelling blisters. One little girl, who couldn't have been more than seven, her face burned to such a degree, that her flesh was not flesh any longer. It had turned to leather.


Tears stung his eyes as these sights came to him, and he wished he could do something.

But he knew he couldn't. He had no way of getting to that ravaged country. But inside he knew that someway, he would go. This was a war he would not miss. This would be his war.

OCC: yea... people think im insane:( course, I will prove them wrong. :) When i get fit.

(OOC: Meh, people think I'm crazy too. I've got lots of friends, but they all think I'm a wee bit nuts ;))

OOC: It's alright guys. Oh, and I'm sorry for making the random reports and other stuff that won't be directed to you guys. Well, it is sorta. I'm just setting up a storyline for the war.

No! Please continue! Thats also helping me build my character's reason for going and fighting there!

Within 30 minutes, the Marines were ready to go and get some. They qucikly got in Company Formation.
" Listen up! We are going to War, Marines"
" OO-RAH!"
The Captain winced, most of these men hadnt seen war, they may not be so gung-ho next time.
" We are deploying with 40,000 other Marines."
" Now, this will be hard! This will not be a walk in the Park!"
" No! these men are trained, hardend, sons of bitches."
" They can, and will not hesitate to KILL you!"
A few Marines looked down at that remark.
" But guess what? They can Kill, but they cannot, will not defeat the Marines."
" Marines, were are going to kick some ass! and after will lay some girls!"
" OO-RAH"
" Now get to your squads, your leader will have info."
" Get Some Death Angles"
The Death Angles were the nickname of that company.
Within another hour, The Marines were on planes, headed to a war.

The walls that created a barrier between Alexandria and the rest of Dephire were being guarded by several Dragon Tanks. Each gate had one stationed in the center. No one was getting in, and no one was getting out. Alexander was fearing that soon enough, the conflicts would finally reach towards civil war. How right he was in thinking so. His many advisors put away the claim, they were all fired of course...and were closely monitored. Alexander opened a telleconference with several GASN leaders. He was fair skinned, dark haired, and couldn't be more than six foot in height. Alexander was also quite young for he had become the Emperor not but at the age of twenty-one. Three years later, he was now on the brink of yet another Civil War. The window opened, and he spoke.

"Fellow GASN members. I have to tell you some rather disturbing news..."

The pictures taken by the thousands of reporters and other such people were now being shown. After the fifteenth picture, Alexander's image returned to the dominant portion of the screen. More pictures were being shown under his image.

"As you can see, this was an attack on a Massive Destruction scale. I ask you, as not only a Fellow GASN member, but as a dear friend...please send help. Vega has returned, from the living? I'm not sure...But he has come back and has the aid of several million of my own people at his side. Please, help me..."

There was Static as the link closed and a new one opened. There was a new image, this was of a different man. He wore a black uniform with a red scorpion tail stitched over the left breast. His hair was jet black, and a scar ran down the left side of his face. It was the image of Vega.

"Don't listen to this fool of an emperor! He is far too young to be leader of Dephire, and so I ask you to leave this little...conflict between him and I. Alexander knows nothing on how to run a country. When I do gain power, which should happen very soon, I will grant all that have helped be achieve it a large reward...let's say...five trillion dollars apiece? What do you say? Join me, and you can have your own little part of Dephire with even a deep pocket! Or Die helping a False Emperor! Your choice."

" Man dude, this sucks!"
" Shutup, Murphy!" said John, to his squadmate and friend.
" But..."
" aw, Fuck it, your right, this does suck!"
" Welcome to The Suck." Murphy said, happily.
" Up yours."
In the plane, a lumbering C-130, the Marines were stuffed into a tiny space.
They had been flying for several hours now, and were rather bored and annoyed.
" Did you know that the Marines in Eron flew in flippin 747's!"
" They Did?" exlamied John.
" Hell yea they did got hot girls on there and flippin soda and nuts."
" Damn, all we got is men!"
" aww, come on John, I thought you were sweat on me!"
" Where in Jesus Christ did you get that idea?" Khaine said, in mock anger.
" Did you know?"
" What?" said John, to McCoffe.
" You know, I got in trouble with the law, and they judge said, join the Marines or go to Jail. And you know what the shit of it is? If I had gone to jail, I'd be getting out today."
" Psh nah!"
" Yep"
" I would rather be home right now." Said Murphy who had chosen the Marines over the required year of Army, Navy, or Air Force service.
" Then why are you in The Suck? asked John.
" Ya, if you were civy, what you would be doing? sitting at home playing Quake, trying to get to that last level, while jacking off?"
" You know what happend when you get there?" said Corporal Sanders.
" What?" said Murphy, Khaine, and McCoffe.
-laughs-
" You just start all over again

yeah, you do, and thats boring, and thats why I joined the Marines. Yes this will be my war. thought Khaine.

No! Please continue! Thats also helping me build my character's reason for going and fighting there!


OOC: And continue I shall!:p

OOC:
Hmm...I could look for something that I posted in the last Civil War. Hehehe!

After the message was sent, Vega sat back in his chair. His face was red after speaking, it was the gift he recieved from the war. This 'gift' was actually a piece of metal that was embedded inside of a nerve cluster that caused sudden spasms. Though they were not very frequent, they immobilized him.

message to Dephire

Where may we land our Marines, the Navy will come shortly.

http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c381/crave22/Cravan/inn2.png
(Hot damn I fuckin' love how that came out.)

Imperial News Network
Cravna, Cravan
Breaking News


"If you are just joining us, we are continuing coverage of the crisis in Dephire where an estimated upwards of fifty-million, possibly up to seventy-million civilians have perished in a terrorist attack that is, quite possibly, the most destructive of the century. It has been several days since the attack, and we have been fed countless video and audio reports from journalists and other sources located in the area.

"Reports suggest that intense fighting has broken out around the city of Ignarko and possibly other areas of the nation as loyalists and seperatists clash in a power struggle that could very well cause the Dephirian government to collapse under the intense pressure. Emperor Craven has pledged support for the Dephirian government, and has issued an executive order detailing the immediate deployment of a Hypercarrier task force led by the INS Imperial Grace to assist the Dephirians in restoring order in their nation. The Emperor has also urged the Senate to vote on an immediate measure to bring the Empire under a heightened state of alert to allow deployment of larger assets if the situation intensifies. This measure, however, has been caught in the Senate for the past two days, and does not show signs of passing anytime soon.

"In the meantime INN will be watching the situation closely. If anything happens, our viewers will be the first to know. This is Marissa Ferentes, INN Cravna."

******************************

Two-Hundred Kilometers off the coast of Dephire
INS Imperial Grace

"XO, how long until we reach Dephire?"
"Another two to three days at this speed, sir. Assuming the skies are clear and waters calm."
"It'll have to do. Helm, what is our current heading?"
"Forty-seven degrees northwest, admiral."
"Keep us steady. I want to be at Dephire ASAP. These snake eaters are getting anxious bottled up with us squids. And the situation in Dephire isn't looking any better. We need to be there to lend a hand, and we're not there now. So we better damn well get there on or ahead of schedule!"
"Aye, sir! You can count on us!"

Task Force Coalsa cut its way through the seemingly endless waters of the sea, moving as fast as possible to arrive on time to render assistance to the Dephirians. At the lead of the group was the Conqueror-class Imperial Glory, her massive shape dominating the horizon for her smaller escorts. To her left, the Battleaxe-class dreadnought Centurion, her equally massive shape slicing through the waves. Along with them was the Genesis-class dreadnought Blade, her smaller figure riding the waves triumphantly. Along with them were three Imperial-class battleships, the Raven, Tiamat, and Regal, their slender shapes filling in the gaps of the larger supercapital ships. Along with them were five Ticonderoga-class cruisers and eight Type 48 missile destroyers, along with countless troop transport ships. (So I went a little supercapital crazy... No big deal. :p ) The task force cut through the waves, fighting against the clock as they approached Dephire, Marines ready and willing to take the fight to the Seperatists...

He watched, this time from a crowd, as Emperor Baker sauntered on stage and stood before the Wanderjarian Citizens gathered before him. He smiled his perpetually friendly smile. He was our friend, and he knew it. Everyone knew that he loved everyone of them, even though he may not know them by name.

A man of 28 now, the Emperor was young, but a great leader, and fantastic Orator.

He began to speak, "My Comrades! Fellow Wanderjarians! I am deeply saddened by what happened in the nation of Dephire, and send my hopes and prayers with them in this dark hour. They stand on eve of Civil War, and even as we speak, fighting is ravaging the countryside. He has sent a cry for help. Help from both military and civillian contractors. If you are a doctor or in some kind of medical field, I urge at least some of you to go. If you are an engineer, or a construction worker, I urge you to go. And, if you desire to go and fight along side the Dephirians, we will be allowing you to go aswell, and be integrated into the Dephirian Army. Up on my stage, there is a sign up list to go. I urge you to do this. That is all." And with that, he walked off, waving as he did.


Johan, Paul, Mikil, and Dieter, friends since highschool, were the first on stage to sign up as foreign legion soldiers. Hundreds signed up over the country, totalling at least five hundred men, mostly retired Veterans or young men who couldn't wait to fight. Many more signed up as doctors or workers of some form.


The Emperor himself shook Johan Tjaden's hand, as he walked down the other side of the stage.

"I'm very proud of you buddy. Everyone who is willing to go fight for our allies is a good man in my book. What is your name?"

"Jo...Johan Tjaden sir."

"Johan. I will remember this. Good luck! Make Wanderjar proud." And he left. Johan stood there, incredulous, and walked back home, his chest puffed out, and feeling ontop of the world. His ship would leave in two days, and arrive in Dephire five days after that.

Separist Admiral, Fuego Garcia, looked through his parascope at the incoming fleet. Garcia's fleet was stationed just fifty miles outside of the inlet sea. He radioed Vega directly, and was given permission to strike at anything that comes in the waters. Garcia gulped at the thought of attacking this ships. He knew that their torpedos will do some damage, but he also knew that those ships will do alot of damage.

"Admiral, what are we going to do? Attack or let them pass?"

Garcia looked at the sailor wide eyed and gasping for breath.

"Let me get back to you on that..."

The admiral left the bridge and headed towards his room to lie down under his table and cry.

"Guess that makes me the new admiral. Okay men! All hands on Deck! Looks like we'd be taking out an Imperial ship!"

He was met with an applause. Outside the submarine, several other ships were preparing for a fight. Most of them were old WWII styled Los Mexican ships with a crude Vegan Emblem painted on the stern and bow.

Camp Fowler, Espandor, Aequatius Secundus

Corporal Michael Harrison and Specialist-Sergeant Anthony Hamilton stood in the maintainance bay for the 1st Marine Expeditionary Unit and looked into the engine compartment of a Viking amphibious landing vehicle, "She's fucked up worse than your mom, Harrison," Said the mechanic as he wiped his hands off on a rag, "She just won't run, needs a whole new engine dropped in there, the block on this one's cracked. Why the hell do you boys always run the shit out of my machines?"

Harrison shook his head, "Because we don't have anything else, this isn't the Army where they get new shit every eight months, we work with what the Corps gives us."

"Well, Captain Irving isn't going to be happy we're down another LVTP, and our Cavaliers aren't doing so hot either," Explained Hamilton, "If they still want this division to head out to Dephire, we're going to need to borrow from the 20th... again."

"Well, let's do what we gotta do to get the job done, I'll talk to you later, Tony," Said the corporal as he exited the garage. The entire base was busy as I MEF prepared for deployment. Reports came in that they would be lacking once again as the orders for the new M5 Gladiator II tanks were given to the Army's Armoured Divisions as priority shifted, leaving the Marines to upgrade their M1 Panthers to an interim M1A2 Tiger status, using the same gun as the M5, but mounted on the old vehicles. Nevertheless, Harrison knew that the division would get its act together and complete another operation, as always.

OCC: Wander, it would be awesome for our two guys to meet:)

OCC: Wander, it would be awesome for our two guys to meet:)


We'll deffinately do that. But lets make it after both our guys have been in a battle, and are in the rear, ok?

OCC: Of course, after what theyve seen War is really like.
Im using more gore and horror than normal

INS Imperial Grace
Task Force Coalsa

"Admiral, sat-net reports multiple contacts fifty miles out from the inlet sea. It looks like an older fleet."
"Sound general quarters. Launch the air wing, and prepare the group for immediate combat."
"Aye, sir."

Red light bathed the ships of TF Coalsa, klaxons blaring as they began to take combat maneuvers. The first aircraft of Grace's wing were away, creating a defensive screen around the task force as the central ships prepared for battle. The Grace stayed behind, guarded by five of the destroyers of the group and three of the cruisers, marine-carrying transports lying slightly inside the defensive shield they created. ASW helicopters began to make patrol routes around the ships of the fleet, their depth charges ready to send any Seperatist subs to the bottom.

Meanwhile, the remainder of the group created a defensive shield between the carrier and the Seperatist fleet, the Centurion taking the center of the formation as her 635mm main guns swiveled into a firing position, her other batteries following suit. They would wait for the Seperatiststs to fire the first shot before they unleashed hell, though... They thought it was the only fair thing to do.

OCC: Of course, after what theyve seen War is really like.
Im using more gore and horror than normal


I always write in dark style. I like my stories to be darker. I tend not to write happy stories lol

An all too familiar voice came to the ships allied with Alexander.

"Allied Fleet. This is Alexander. Please allow me to test fire my Dominator-Classed cannons of one of those ships. They have failed to try out the Anti-Naval Ship ammo."

"Go for it, sir. What've we got to lose?", Admiral Harold Liseken said with a grin. "What you don't kill, we kill."

Fighters continually buzzed about the area, scanning for anything which could penetrate the Cravanian perimeter, and would deal with it easily if such a threat came.

OOC:
Crap. Now I have to remember how awesome it looked when a cannon fired, let alone ten simultaneously! One second...

Edit:
YAY FOUND IT!!!

It was 5:00 am in Wanderjar. The ships, there was a convoy of about five, were being loaded with men and materials bound for Dephire. He wore a green olive drab jacket, with a white undershirt, a pair of same color pants, black combat boots, and wore a floppy green campaign hat. On his shoulder, was an AK-74M rifle, and on his web belt, were three canteens, four ammo pouches with three magazines in each, and an empty one, incase he ever needed to put something there. Around his other shoulder was his bag, with the personal belongings he wanted to take with him. Behind him were his friends, Miki, Paul, and Dieter, each kissing and hugging their Mothers and Fathers goodbye. Johan's Mother was present, as was his father, and he gave each a stern hug.

"I'll miss you buddy," His Dad said, tearing up. "Write please?"

"I'll miss you too Dad." He said giving him a hug. The sun was rising, though one could not tell, as the clouds covered the sun, giving what light that had shed on the day a dreary and dark look. One forboding with dark omens of the horrors to come, and yet Johan, blinded by his lust for glory and adventure, did not see them. Had he, he would have run.

His Mother was crying too hard to speak, and as they embraced for the final time, the Ships horn blew. He had to go.


Walking up the planks onto the ship, he and his friends laughed and joked. They could not wait until the five day journey was over, and they could get into the action.

The day was quiet back in the mountainous barrier surrounding the Dephirian Mainland. Quiet, except for the sound of machinery kicking into action. It was somewhat mechanical, yet extremely quiet for it's sheer size. A voice boomed out of an intercom speaker high above. It echoed throughout the mountain range, and poured into the cities.

"Dominator-Classed Rail Gun, Anti-Naval Shot. Firing in Ten."

The streets went quiet, and all the commuters stopped. Gun fire ceased. All knew and understood the might of the DCRC.

"Nine"

Everyone looked up towards the skies.

"Eight"

Vega walked out of his hiding place to stare at his navy.

"Oh my God! NO!!!"

He screamed, but wasn't heard.

"Seven"

Many people flocked to rooftops, and gazed at the fleet just as the cannons lowered and positioned themselves accordingly.

"Six"

Ammunition was placed inside the guns by a mechanical system.

"Five"

All of the guardsmen that were supposed to watch over the cannon headed underground into a bunker.

"Four"

The men aboard the Separist ships looked behind them just as the darkness inside the barrels of each DCRC glowed..

"Three"

As the cannon began to glow brightly, a humming sound began to vibrate pebbles away from the massive cannons.

"Two"

The men aboard the ships frantically jumped overboard.

"One"

Everyone held their breath, even the operators of the powerful weapon.

"FIRE!"

Beams of light, or so it appeared to be, streaked across the sky from each cannon's barrel. The projectile screamed towards the enemy ships, mostly at the larger one of them. The watched in sheer horror as four beams of light streaked towards their respected ships. Vega could only witness a portion of his fleet get torn apart. Even though several hundred ships still stood in the waters, Dephire was now in War Status.

Johan had settled into his bunk, and laid there, staring at his top bunk. His friends were talking about how awsome it was going to be to go fight, and to kick some ass! And so was he, but still....there was a gnawing in his gut. He couldn't quite tell if it was adrenaline.....or if he was afraid.

OOC:
I'm getting involved a bit with ya WJ. Also, I should of told you about the base in your country...hehehe!
IC:

Four F-35 fighter aircraft took off from a secret embassy/base within Wanderjar's borders. They bore the Dephirian Seal, which meant that they were of the highest ranks in the Airforce.

"Hello Allied fleet! This is Captain Burtt Reynolds of the Dephirian Royal Airforce! We are supposed to escourt you to the port city of Alexandria. From there, you will be sorted out. You can call us 'Yellow Squadron' if you'd like to. Well, may your voyage be sound!"

OCC: my planes need to land

OOC:
I'm getting involved a bit with ya WJ. Also, I should of told you about the base in your country...hehehe!
IC:

Four F-35 fighter aircraft took off from a secret embassy/base within Wanderjar's borders. They bore the Dephirian Seal, which meant that they were of the highest ranks in the Airforce.

"Hello Allied fleet! This is Captain Burtt Reynolds of the Dephirian Royal Airforce! We are supposed to escourt you to the port city of Alexandria. From there, you will be sorted out. You can call us 'Yellow Squadron' if you'd like to. Well, may your voyage be sound!"



OOC: LOL!


IC:


The Captain thanked the squadron, and announced over the intercomm system who the fighters were.

Through the small port hole, the four Wanderjarians looked out as the Squadron of fighters soared around them, guarding them against all enemies. It made him feel alot safer than he originally felt. He was terrified by the prospect of Vega's usage of Unrestricted Submarine Warfare. He sank back into the bunk, which was surprisingly, moderately comfortable, and and pulled up the table in the center of the small room.

"Who's up for a game of cards?" He asked. His friends faces lit up, and Paul drew a deck from his chest pocket.

Message to: The People's Freedom
From: Admiral Coronado

"We have cleared our runways at the Shetzburgh International Airport for your use. Be advised that Vegan forces could be there...but we are uncertain."

________________________________________________________________________________________

The Dephirian fighters began singing the Ace Combat Five song for some bloody reason.

"How fast is too slow?"

Coronado broke the melody.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

(OOC: Ok, well, I'm heading to bed. Cya all tommorrow)




As the sun fell over the horizon, and the already darkened sky grew into a black abyss, Johan laid in his bunk, watching his friends play cards. While the jokes and laughter still floated amongst them, he slowly descended into sleep, though he could almost, however faintly, hear the ominpresent sound of artillery and gunfire in the distance, though Dephire was four days away.

Captain Shaftoe of the WSP's Medical Corps finished preparing his equipment, word was they were going to Dephire, a fellow GASN member (or ORGASNer, like the boys called it).
-"Okay folks, ready your gear, we leave tomorrow at 0600, got it?"-
-"YES SIR!"- twenty voices responded in unison
-"Good"- the Captain turned off the lights and went to sleep.

Dawn spread from the east, it was the morning of the eighth day since the attack on Ignarko. Yellow Squadron had landed on the Aircraft Carrier, DCRS Harrisburgh, but had not left the convoy of ships alone. In their place were two Capital-Ranked Battleships. Reynolds had been awake for several hours now, he was looking out of his portwindow towards the five ships. They seemed rather massive, almost the same size as the battleship he was in. He stepped out of his room, and headed towards the galley.

Maximus was running out of time, and he knew it. A week ago, he had killed one of the men he had mentored. In return, Julius had put three slugs in his shoulder. Which still hurt to move. Julius had been one of the best. But if Julius had realized Maximus had gone rogue, it was only a matter of time before the next Shadowman came after him.

Maximus needed money and a lot of it, or to be shielded by a legitimate government. Then the news caught his eye. A GASN member. Perfect...

Maximus flipped open his laptop, and typed quickly. Then he sent the e-mail. If he judged correctly, it should be quickly bumped up past the inevitable screening to someone in charge.

Source: Withheld
Greetings Emperor Alexander. Your current situation has come to my
attention. As I'm sure you have realized, in a civil war, the people's mood
matters as much as anything else. As such, a measure of plausible
deniability must be retained in any mission that may be seen, in the public
view, as objectionable.
That's where people such as myself come in. I believe we can come to an
equitable arrangement. Namely, I will require of you the objective, and
occassionally some simply support, and you can keep your hands clean of
any affair.
In return, I ask merely one thing. Amnesty. Reply to the enclosed E-mail
address if you find my terms acceptable.

The convoy was now in port. Over the intercomm, the Captain of the cargo ship told all contractors to gather their belongings and equipment, and to prepare for disembarkation. The smiles had faded from his friends faces. The realization that they were now in a warzone was sinking into their minds. The sky was still gray, as they left the ship and walked on shore. Everywhere Johan looked, soldiers were moving materials and machines around. Dephirian citizens ran about their daily buisness, but all had a look of fear on them.

"Paul? Where are we?" Johan asked his friend.

"I think its Shetzburg, but I'm not sure." Johan nodded and walked up to a Dephirian soldier.

"Where do military contractors report to?" He asked.

The Dephirian pointed to a bus with a sharply dressed man, obviously an Officer, standing out front. "Report to him. He will take you to Alexandria to meet with the Emperor. Good luck mates!"

Smiling and thanking him, Johan motioned for his friends to follow him. They went over to the Officer, and introduced themselves.

"I'm Johan Tjaden, a Wanderjarian Military Contractor. These are my friends, Paul, Mikil, Dieter."

The massive fleet of Aircraft had landend.

"Go Go Go!
" We are in a warzone, Marines!"
" Drop your cocks and grab your socks."

John was moving as fast he could out of the C-130. They had orders to clear the area and set up defensive area, beacuse rebel forces may be in the area.
John soon squated and brought up his M-21. As he did that he felt a knot in his stomach. He was in a warzone. He could die. For some reason, he had thought that would bother him more than it auctally did.

The officer sat behind a table, many forms were on clipboards ontop of the table. He was dressed in a gray uniform, showing the Dephirian Naval standard.

"All foreign contractors, sign up here!"

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Shetzland Airfield:

A small convoy of humvees and large trucks approached the newcomers. Each had the black star of Dephire. It stopped in front of the newcomers, and a single man came out.

"I'd suggest you start preparing to move out. San Salvadorea AFB is at least a day's ride from here. We will be passing through thin bands of Separist Territory, so keep watch."

To: Witheld source.
From: Alexander Administration High Command

Your amnesty shall be granted. If you need transport, we shall send. However, if you already have transport, you can travel to the port city of Ghray*. Thank you for your support.

Alex closed his laptop and let out a deep sigh.

AK-47? Check. Cleaned, loaded, ready to go. Grenades? Smoke, flashbang, frag, check. Knives. Boot, check. Thigh, check. Arms, check. Hip, check. Maxmillian completed his mental checklist as he steered the speedboat closer to shore. According to his GPS, this was where he was supposed to be. Maxmillian stretched his seven foot frame, and then steered the boat next to the dock. He climbed out, glancing about to see if any customs officials would assail him.

For that matter, the princeling had probably sent someone to meet him.

Thirteen armed port guards saw a shadow figure step onto the dock.

"Who goes there? Well, whoever you are...we are trained soldiers of the Dephirian Army! We will shoot!"

One of the younger men tapped the head guard on the shoulder.

"Sir...we don't have gus."

The head guard turned towards the younger one.

"Don't tell him that!"

Johan, Paul, Dieter, and Mikil all signed the papers. They were directed to enter the lead bus, which quickly filled up with other Foreigners who'd come seeking adventure or otherwise. Then, once all three buses were filled up completely, they set off. In about twenty minutes, they would meet with the Emperor Himself.




(OOC: Dephire, would you RP the speeches, the foreigners getting out of the buses, etc?)

Johan, Paul, Dieter, and Mikil all signed the papers. They were directed to enter the lead bus, which quickly filled up with other Foreigners who'd come seeking adventure or otherwise. Then, once all three buses were filled up completely, they set off. In about twenty minutes, they would meet with the Emperor Himself.




(OOC: Dephire, would you RP the speeches, the foreigners getting out of the buses, etc?)

OOC: Oo! Right on it! -chuckles- This is going to be another cut & paste from a private file...one second.

Dephire Times (Old Government Controlled Newspaper):

Alexander will be touring the capitol city, Alexandria, today as a means to rouse paitriotism within the ranks of the Old Dephirian Military Troops, and to say one of several speeches to foreign aid contractors, doctors, and the like. Recent threats by known rebel groups; Down With Alexander, Gorge, GeoPunk, and many others have forced this tour to be escourted by hundreds of High Ranking troops. There have been several reports that there may be snipers in the area to take out any suspected rebel terrorists within the area that may pose a threat to our great leader. The tour will start from his home, and will conclude in Alexandria Square (the location of which his speech to the foreign contractors will be held.)

Alexandria Square (Downtown Alexandria; 12:00 Noon):

Operation: One Shot, One Kill. That was all that was going through the sniper's head. He wasn't a retired military officer, like most of the rest of Dephire, but he had taken a crash course when the rebellion had come around. He was a top-notch sniper. Ranked 2nd in the class, the first being the teacher of course. His total accuracy percentile was about 95%. He had aimed just a little too high on his final examination. Now he was sent here to take out the problem of all the rebel forces, Dictator Alexander Ra'baal. He cradled the .22 rifle up close to his body. The excitement of the hunt was a bit overjoyous. He took out the one round that he was given, it was a hollow tipped round. Laced with a special Alkaline/Kevlar material. Kevlar for extra penetration. Now, Alkaline is a metal that reacts violently when exposed to water, and guess how much water the human body consists of...roughly 70%. One Shot, One Kill. He spotted the armoured Escalade pull up to the pressbox, the very place where Alexander was supposed to make his speech. The door opened. He smiled, the target was in his sights. It got out. The sniper waited until the target came to a stop. Then fired.

Alexandria Square (12:01 Noon):

The sound of the rifle echoed off the many walls in the square. Screams. Alexander got out of his Rolls Royce just in time to see his father's shoulder explode in blood. The blood was all over the plaza. It ran down, and into a drainage pipe.

Thirteen armed port guards saw a shadow figure step onto the dock.

"Who goes there? Well, whoever you are...we are trained soldiers of the Dephirian Army! We will shoot!"

One of the younger men tapped the head guard on the shoulder.

"Sir...we don't have gus."

The head guard turned towards the younger one.

"Don't tell him that!"

Maxmillian stepped out of the shadows. He flicked his wrists, and suddenly there was a knife in each hand.

"Call me Max. I'm here to assist in this little war you seem to be having. I was given to understand that this would be a good area to enter your fair nation. Contact your higher-ups. If there's a single competent man among them, arrangements will have been made."

He flicked his wrists again and the knives were gone. He folded his massive arms and waited.

Bump!

Sweaty soldiers walked by, it was almost finished, but the Medical Post, barracks, tents, latrines and some other infrastructure would take a while to finish. Docotor Shaftoe cleaned his forehead with a handerkchief and went on to keep helping.

OOC: Wanderjar..umm...that assassination attempt was where your speeches were supposed to be...hehehe!

IC:

The guards looked at their wrist communicators, an email had just popped up.

"A guest should be arriving soon at port Ghray. Take him to my office Immediately. If he so has a scratch, you will be sentence to one thousand deaths."

The men did what was told of them.

Johan Tjaden ducked as he heard the gunfire, as did the other hundreds of foreign contractors.

"Shit!" Someone shouted. Johan didn't look to see who it was, but felt that it might have been....him.

He unslung his Kalashnikov rifle, and scanned the area, looking for hostiles, but there was nothing to be seen. The Emperor's father was on the ground, his shoulder covered in blood. He ran over.


"Sir, have my bandages." He said, offering his own medical tape to the Emperor.

A medical team pushed Alexander and Johan aside, but it was too late.

"Damn. It looks like the bullet just ripped apart his internal organs..Sir...sir? Are you going to be okay? Dalmerci?"

Alex stood up. Then turned to Johan.

"What is your name?"

A medical team pushed Alexander and Johan aside, but it was too late.

"Damn. It looks like the bullet just ripped apart his internal organs..Sir...sir? Are you going to be okay? Dalmerci?"

Alex stood up. Then turned to Johan.

"What is your name?"


"I am Johan Tjaden. I came from Wanderjar as a Soldier Contractor to help defend my nations close ally in their time of need."

The Dephirian then turned to the medical team.

"How dare you push around this boy, and me for that matter! I already knew my father was dead! Do you mean to inform me that I am completely unaware of the obvious?"

Alex took a few steps towards the team.

"I'll have you know that Dephire is now under a civil war. Everyone, go inside your homes. This conference is over. Vega has finally gotten his war."

Johan stuttered, his eyes focused on the ground.

"I'm very sorry sir."

Alex turned around and faced the young man.

"Don't be sorry. Things happen."

Maxmillian leaned up against the wall, still studying the men. Unarmed. Nervous. Bickering. Easy prey. If the rest of the Dephirian military was like this, he was beginning to think he may have chosen the wrong side to throw his lot in with.

But then, if Alex loses, I have plenty of experience disappearing. I'll just have to find another country to give me asylum.

"Sir, come with us please. The transport unit will arrive soon. Infact, here it comes..."

The soldier was drowned out by the loud roar of a Sixty-Two Cyllinder Diesel Engined Truck. It was heavily armoured and fortified further with bolted on metal plates, which gave it the ressemblence of an APC. The truck was also eighty-five feet long, with three gun placements on the top.

"This transport unit should take you safely to Alexandria."

Maxmillian nodded briskly, and climbed into the back of the truck. Ah, this brought back memories. Alright, that had been a wagon, pulled by horses, with an entirely different scent than this diesel, but still.

Maxmillian quickly glanced about to see if there was anybody else being transported in the truck.

Ten young men, more than likely not much above the age of sixteen, stared at the foreigner. One, a blode haired and blue eyed, boy looked at the other boys, then turned towards the foreigner to speak.

"So, where did you come from?"

The boy spoke very fluent Dephirian, but was good at English as well. His voice was strongly accented with Russian and with a hint of German.

OOC: Quick question, is Dephirian a language? Or do they just speak English?

OOC: Quick question, is Dephirian a language? Or do they just speak English?

Technically, yes it is. Is it real? No, it's not.:p

Dephire is a Multi-Language Country.

They are taught at birth to speak Dephirian (the Native tongue) which is used in commerce, local business, military, and some other roles.

When they reach the age of ten, they are introduced to English. Which is used for practically International usage.

I personally like the Russian and German accents, so those tend to apply to my people alot...hehehe!

Technically, yes it is. Is it real? No, it's not.:p

Dephire is a Multi-Language Country.

They are taught at birth to speak Dephirian (the Native tongue) which is used in commerce, local business, military, and some other roles.

When they reach the age of ten, they are introduced to English. Which is used for practically International usage.

I personally like the Russian and German accents, so those tend to apply to my people alot...hehehe!

OOC: Okay.

IC: In near perfectly accented Dephirian, Maxmillian replied, "That is not your concern. Suffice it to say that I am here now, and I am to fight on your side."

He produced a number of cigars from inside his trenchcoat. "Do any of you smoke?"

OCC: Where should My Marines go since theyu are still at the airport

OOC:
I guess I need to address that.
IC:

The boys shook their heads.

"In our training to become soldiers, we were taught that smoking will weaken our skills in being the best that we can be. Smoking hightens blood pressure, and would also smell. Both are bad when in a stealth mission where you must not be detected. The smell could give you away, and so could the faster beating of the heart."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________ _

The soldier spoke towards the men at the airport.

"We need to head off towards San Salvadorea Air Force Base as soon as possible, like I said before, we will pass through a small branch of Vegan Territory."

OCC: Damn, you guys are gunna be posting all day while im gone, im going to be so far behind xD

The Marines soon loaded up in humvees and trucks, and the some got on the tanks. Time to kick some butt. In addition 100 Bemenoth III's arrived.

John was pmped up, he would soon get his First action.

" First to Fight guys!" he yelled.
" OO-RAH!"

"Good men," replied Maxmillian, and the cigars vanished from his hands. "What about cards?" With yet another flick of his wrists, a deck of cards was in his hands. "Gotta do something to pass the time after all."

OOC: In case you're wondering, yes, he was at one point a stage magician.

The convoy moved out towards the Megalith.

"We figured that we should show you guys one of our main weapons on International Warfare."

It would take several days to travel through the desert to reach the Megalith, but that would cut down on time to get to the AFB. It would also take the soldiers out of Harm's way.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

The boys smiled while secretly revealing some poker chips.

"While gambling is frowned upon, using items with relatively no value, such as these poker chips, is acceptable. What is the name of the game, sir?"

"Name of the game is Bullshit. Any of you boys ever played?" Maxmillian began dealing.

The faces of the young men brightened, even a few of the older soldiers came into the compartment.

"Every soldier better knows how to play that game! With a gun and with a deck of cards, just don't ask about the gun part..."

OOC: As much fun as that would be to play, can we just skip to Maxmillian arriving?

OOC: There ya go.
IC:

The truck arrived at one of the massive gates that let into Alexandria. One of the soldiers inputed an authorization code for entry. The gate creaked open. They were now staring in awe of the Capitol city. The boy that spoke to Maxmillian spoke again.

"In all my life, I've never seen the city before...It's bloody huge!"

One of the higher ranked officers poked his head through a door.

"Quit gawking. You are going to meet the Emperor himself in less than fifteen minutes. So I would suggest you clean up...or at least tidy up yourselves. You, foreigner, please wear this armband to show that you are under Dephirian Military Command. Yes, I know that you are not really under our command, but you don't want these trigger-happy morons having a go at you."

Maxmillian shrugged and slipped on the armband. "Perfectly reasonable. So, you lads are to be a PR stunt? Oh, and a word of advice, nothing manmade is worth gawking at."

He stepped out of the truck, and pulled his mask back on to counter the sunlight.

The boy frowned.

"A desert is nothing to be gawked at either.."

He stepped out, as did everyone else. Ships were at harbour. Massive they were, but not fully functional yet. Alexandria was a shipbuilding port. As soon as everyone was off, the truck pulled out to do another pick up.

"Did the guy say where exactly we were supposed to go?"

"Matter of personal philosophy. A desert may not be something to gawk at, but it is something to be respected. Anyways, no he didn't say anything about where to go. But I imagine the Emperor won't be too hard to find. They rarely are."

The young men stood around waiting for possibly another transportation vehicle, when none came, they started marching towards where the locals said the "Grand Hall" was supposed to be.

"Who wants to bet that the Emperor is old and has balding hair?"

A red haired soldier laughed.

"He's probably fifty, and fatter than a hippo.."

"Well, I am somewhat confused that you don't know what your own Emperor looks like," said Maxmillian, "Doesn't go in much for public addresses, I take it?"

"The only time Alexander has left the capital city, or well times I should correct myself, was in the Danteri Conflict, to take a tour of the Megalith, and to watch the firing of the DCRC. Though, the DCRC is getting recommissioned...bummer for that. Other than that, no, he doesn't get out much. But I can understand why...I mean...he has everything he needs, and he's also quite busy. We don't get much T.V. in the Desert Region. Most of the signals only are recieved in higher populated areas such as the Capitol City District, and the surrounding areas."

He stopped to read a sign.

"This is it. Shall we go inside? Or should we wait out here?"

"Allow me," said Maxmillian. He strode in through the door, glancing about, as always, to take in his surroundings. "Anybody home?" he called in a slighlty mocking tone, though no more so than usual.

Most of the Vegan Fleet had survived the deadly assault imposed by the DCRC's, but they couldn't counter. Instead, they decided to lash out at the Cravan fleet. Ten Burst missiles were launched into the air, and began to descend upon the Cravan Fleet.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________ __

The young men walked past Maxmillian and headed towards the receptionist.

"Excuse me miss, but we need to speak to the Emperor. Wouldn't by chance know where he is?"

She looked up and jumped, then regained her calm.

"I thought you were Separists! Oh, nevermind. Haven't you heard? Alexander is at the hospital. His father was the victim of a failed assassination attempt. IF you'd like, I can call up for a vehicle to pick you-"

A low voice echoed in the hall.

"That won't be necessary, Claire. Men, please follow me."

Alexander looked at Maxmillian.

"Ah. I'm going to assume that you are the man I spoke with over the Com?"

"We 'spoke' via e-mail, if that's what you mean," said Maxmillian. "Emperor Alexander, I presume?"

The man smiled.

"I know, I don't look like an Emperor, but yes..I am him."

He opened a door, and continued walking.

"Are our customs different from your...previous home?"

"That settles it... Blow 'em out of the sky."

CIWS systems whirred to life as they shot the missiles out of the sky, one by one. Two missiles, made it through, though, causing damage to a few of the vessels and aircraft of the fleet.

"Fire a salvo towards the center of their formation, and prepare the strike aircraft for immediate anti-ship warfare. I want our ASW choppers in the air at all times to keep them away. Those fuckers aren't getting my fleet."
"Aye, admiral."

The guns of the fleet sounded off as a barrage of shells and missiles went downrange to the Seperatist fleet, followed by a swarm of strike fighters which had been launched from the Grace.

The man smiled.

"I know, I don't look like an Emperor, but yes..I am him."

He opened a door, and continued walking.

"Are our customs different from your...previous home?"

"I haven't been here long enough. Although, to be brutally honest, you're security does seem a bit lax. If I was an assassin, you'd probably be dead by now. Good luck for both of us I'm not, eh?"

Alexander laughed as another set of doors opened.

"Yes, and if I were an assassin myself, you would of just fallen into a trap."

He vanished. A voice, somewhat fuller in sound, came from within the room.

"You have to excuse my hologram. I told my techies to be cautious...I guess they haven't worked on him yet. Please remove all weaponary. Trust me, you won't be needing it.."

Maxmillian sighed. "This may take a while." He flicked his wrists, and knives appeared in his hands. He set them down, and repeated the process several times. He also removed a knife from his long braid, several strapped to his legs, several pistols, the AK-47, and a number of grenades. In the end, he had laid enough weaponry on the ground to fight a small war, most of it knives. He also pulled out a pack of gum and tossed it on the ground.

"Is that explosive gum?"

"Is that explosive gum?"

"Poisonous actually. The explosive gum's in my other trenchcoat. I think that just about covers it... wait." Maxmillian took off the trenchcoat for a moment, unstrapped a mace from his back, and tossed it on top of the pile. "Okay, that's everything."

(OOC: Give some infantry orders ok Dephire? I'd like something to do, since Johan is just sitting.)

OOC:
Eh..looks like I have to rewind and fast forward. Johan is now in the office of Alexander along with his friends. It's the same room that Maxmillian is in.

The MCS Tarawa the flagship of the 5th UFMC Fleet sails into view of the Port Shetzland. Sky Marshal John Rico looks to Captain Harry Turtledove the Commanding Officer the MCS Tarawa. "Captain Turtledove please get ahold of the DockMaster of the Port. I would like to know where we can land our troops and heavy equipment for the Division? I would like you to also get ahold of our troops that are going to be brought into the country by plane. Thank you very much."

The 151st Naval Transport Squadron started to land at the Shetzeland Airport coming in from the north part of the country. The Squadron Commander Commander James West landed with the first Transport Plane. He stands there watching the reset of his Squadron land and the Mobile Infantrymen and their equipment to unload from the big C-17. Commander West get a hold of the Dephirian Military Command to inform them about the first two Regiments of the 45th Mobile Infantry Division has landed and would like to know where to send them.

OOC:
Sorry guys. I'm going to leave some of this up to you to portray. Right now, I'm losing my temper with some people and I need to chill.

(OOC: Oh, my bad.)

The massive coulum of Marines set out to the airport.

Khaine was on a Bemeonth III with his platoon

"Maxmillian, this is Johan. He came from Wanderjar if I'm not mistaken. These are his friends."

Alexander pointed at several individuals.

"Ja, we are foreign contractors from New Prussia, Wanderjar."

I am officially reopening this thread.