NationStates Jolt Archive

Port Olympus, Vrak

In one of the wealthier parts of town, typically inhabitted by the Keys there lay a large, spacious, six bedroom house. It wasn't that remarkable as far as houses went, square, almost blocky, with a balcony on the second floor. The lawns were well mown. Out the back of the section there was a moddest swimming pool surrounded by a white picket fence. What was unusual was that the occupants had taken to flying a most unusual flag.

It was an unusual flag that fluttered, The background was white, with a large black skull in the centre. Right on the skull's forhead, cut out in white was the shape of an hourglass. To the typical citizen it bore a certain resemblance to a skull and cross bones, without the bones. But to a Dyellian, particularly one of an older Generation, it meant a lot more. It was the mark of the Inquisitor Guard. The Elite troops who had helped to bolster the Communist dictatorship that had run the country then. Dyelli Beybi had always been a spiritual country, and Marxism smacked of anti-religious policies. They had needed the Inquisitors, God's Warriors, to give a religion friendly face...

The next generation of Inquisitors was here now, hanging around the house in green uniforms and similar green berets. They weren't obviously armed, although the odds were they were guarding whatever was going on inside, so the odds were they were carrying concealed weapons.

There was nothing to indicate what was going on inside, but as the day wore on rumours began to circulate. The Tzars were back. Dyelli Beybi's Royal Family, traditionally something of a blight on the face of Klatch were back. What was going on inside was the new Tzar was holding court. Further rumours suggested this latest contender was actually a Tzarina...

As the day wore on a few people came to investigate. Then a few more, until there was a queue of mostly Dyellians by the front gate waiting to see the person they now knew was proclaiming herself the Tzarina. It seemed nobody was being turned away... provided they didn't mind being frisked by a guard at the door...

-----

Another exiled noble left, pulling the brim of his hat down as he did. He was nobody in particular, but every person who chose to support the Tzarina was one less person who supported the Emperor.

"I still think this is a stupid idea." Caroline ab Ieuf grunted. She was tall for a Dyellian, which meant about average height, with striking blue eyes behind a pair of fashionable, rimless glasses. Her hair was also lighter than a usual Dyellians, a sandy brunette as opposed to the more usual black. She had a figure men would die for... and had in the past.

"Not really." Alexia ap Adam was the Tzarina, shorter, younger and more typically Dyellian. They both had fine Dyellian bone structures, but the young Tzarina's hair was raven black, and her eyes a dark brown, "I'm not going to skulk around in the shadows. Anyway, as soon as the CID find out we've got support they'll give us backing and we'll not need to worry about Security."

"Security." Caroline muttered. For reasons she couldn't fathom, the Tzarina had decided to appoint a mercenary, a certain Mr. Sherwin an honorary Captain and put him in charge of her Security detail.

"How are we looking by the way?" Alexia was seated on a slightly raised and more ornate chair, while Caroline had taken one lower and further forward behind a desk.

A certain amount of subtle pressure was being put on entering nobles to sign a sheet on Caroline's desk to pledge their support to the cause, "We have just over 100, think it will do?"

"We'll see, Major Mortimer, will you do the honours?"

"Sure thing." Mortimer replied cheerily. He was another Dyellian, black hair and nearly black eyes. Alexia had specifically ordered him not to call her 'your highness', and he had stopped.

He had been given a blackberry by Alexia in the morning when she had concocted the plan, "Step out of the room for a moment." Caroline suggested, "We'll take another one through, see if you can find Sherwin."

"Yeah, sure." Mortimer left down a side door to track down Sherwin and also to send his message off to the Coventry Institute of Democracy.

He would give them the address of the venue, but little else except that they were to expect to see some support. In the other room, the next visitor was shown through the door...

"Sweet Jesus." Caroline stared at the unshaven man in the suit, then looked quickly at the Guards.

"Oh yes." he replied, offering a bow to the Tzarina, "You guessed it, the KGB sent me to kill you."

The two guards by the door reacted instantly, drawing their pistols in the blink of an eye. Dyellians were known to have fast reactions... "But." Alexia added, "You're not going to. I don't think we've met."

"This..." Caroline did the introductions, "Is Vlademir Dzerzhinsky."

"Ah huh." Alexia smiled a vague disarming smile, "Yes, come to think of it you do look a bit like your father, same long gaunt face. So now we know you're not here to kill me, what are you here to do?"

"Sign up for the Revolution." the Dzerzhinsky replied, "As far as I see it, to win the popular support you need someone on your side who everyone knows is a Socialist... me."

"Yes..." Alexia nodded, sounding slightly uncertain as to the man's motives, "But why? Why do this?"

"A Constitutional Monarchy in Dyelli Beybi." he murmered, as if considering this for the first time, "It's interesting. My father tried to weed all the Tzarist influence out of the country, so that you would never have power again... but still we could never really root you out, not really. We had the likes of the charming Commisaar D'Etienne, aka Caroline ab Ieuf, Baroness of Penrose working on the inside of course, which didn't help."

Caroline just smiled, allowing the other Chekist to continue his speech, "So the Cheka got stronger to try to clean the problem up once and for all... but instead went out of control giving us our dear friend Emperor Soult. If only we had found some way to bridge the gap between the Socialists and the Monarchists..."

He smiled, motioning with both hands towards Alexia, "And here you are. Of course you were there all along, but people were too proud to think. So I'll help you, just one thing though..."

"If I try to take over the country, you'll kill me?" Alexia butted in, "Yes I've heard that before. I feel quite safe despite the threats don't worry, I have no intention of taking over the country."

Dzerzhinsky's mouth opened and shut a couple of times. Caroline handed him a pen, and as if in a daze he signed, "You stick around." she spoke softly, "When Mortimer gets back we'll see what we can give you to do."

Sherwin, the transport pilot, was suprisingly good at security. He had to be, he was a spy himself, planted long ago by 'Mr. Johnson' , Sherwin was a member of the 'Knights Panther' the military wing of the CID, not that anyone knew that, he had never even been to Ilek-Vaad or even ever spoken with anyone remotely connected with the CID,he was, an Azazian pilot, with suspicious abilities at unarmed combat, concealing weapons and spoting concealed weapons. He spent his time at the reception personally going around and checking each point of security himself, after checking them all , he checked them again.

He saluted Mortimer as he saw him coming "Everything okay back at reception? I think we have more of a chance of drawing Federation Marshalls than we do of attracting an assassin! I'm not sure if that's good or bad."

He paused to think about it "We should probably get someone in the street to keep any stragglers out of traffic, and to kep them from 'wandering' around the property."

Meanwhile at CID headquarters Sir Aldred had received the message and called a cab to the Tzarina's party. Other members of the CID also left to 'observe' the location.

Mortimer returned the salute, nodding gravely along to what Sherwin was saying, "Yes, we'll draw Marshals like mosquitoes in Cyro, but I don't expect they'll do anything. We're not technically breaking the law."

There was a faint beep from inside one of Mortimer's pockets. He reached in, pulling out his cell phone to read the text message he had received, "Nothing to worry about... ah looks like the KGB sent someone down here... but he's signed up instead... I know this guy, son of Felix, real political sort, ran for a cabinet post in the Klatchian Government and didn't get it."

"We've already got men patrolling the grounds." Mortimer continued answering Sherwin's questions, although I guess someone to keep them off the road is probably a good idea. I'll organise that while I'm getting a couple of Inquisitors to meet these CID blokes."

"Head back to the throne room." he gave a short laugh, it was really just a large sitting room with the furniture moved out, "In the hall just outside, you should find Vlademir Dzerzhinsky. He might be a spy so don't give him anything too critical to do, but it seems unlikely and he should be pretty useful. I don't know maybe we can brief him for Press Interviews."

-----

Back at Reception someone else was presenting themselves, "Klatchian Marshal Patricia Davies." she introduced herself.

"Going AWOL from the Marshals?" Caroline remarked unpleasantly. She had no love of the Klatchian Marshals, especially not ones who spoke with a clear Dyellian accent.

"Yes actually." Davies did not take the bait.

It looked like Caroline was about to make some kind of nasty remark, but before she could she was cut off by Alexia, "Your name is familiar, I think... do you know Chlarissa Dashwood."

"Yes. We were friends." Davies nodded, "Oh by the way I saw Richard Quentin outside."

"My sister mentioned him." Caroline jumped in, into what was rapidly becoming a big Cheka reunion, "Wonder what he's doing here."

"Probably here for the same reason as me." Davies' eyes had turned cold, barely suppressed anger hiding behind them.

"Why's that?" Alexia prompted.

"Revenge." Davies grunted, "There is a Commisaar named Reilly, the most treacherous b@$74* ever to side with Soult. He was the one who killed Ea... err Mr Collins."

"How do you know this?" Alexia demanded.

"I was the one who sat with him when he died." Davies replied, sounding slightly heated, "Soult has to be stopped, and the Marshals aren't doing anything about it. I've told then he's allied with Himmler and likely to come into some very big weapons to use on the rest of Klatch, but nobody listens to me, oh no. They know best."

"Sign here." Caroline waved the sheet of paper with a fast growing list of names on it at Davies.

----------

A pair of Inquisitor Guard had wandered out to the road front, like all the outside guards they weren't obviously armed. They crossed the road and waited for Sir Aldred and his cab. Nobody inside wanted to make who they hoped would be their primary financial backer to wait alongside the sightseers, miscellaneous Dyellian nobles, disgruntled ex-soldiers and now, the first press officials.

It was ITV or Imperial Television. Soult had shut down KTV or Klatchian Television when it had refused to tow the Imperial line and had blatantly attacked him. ITV was quite different, a blatant propaganda machine.

Sherwin nodded "Right-o." and headed back to the throne room.

*****
Out front, Sir Aldred left his taxi and headed up to the house, blatantly passing up the line of people, with a business like look to him and clip to his walk that implied that whatever his business was he deserved to be at the front of the line.

He introduces himself to whatever Inquisitors meet him "Sir Aldred to see Alexia ap Adam, she is expecting me." He says cooly.

The more precisely the position is determined, the less precisely the momentum is known in this instant, and vice versa.
--Heisenberg, uncertainty paper, 1927

Intelligence in the Klatch has always been a game of uncertainty. Just having the Federation organized in its current configuration gave rise to numerous agencies from the different states bumping and tripping over one another if not outright stabbing and killing each other in the dark alleys of Port Olympus. The latitude enjoyed by each state was certainly not to be discarded by anyone anytime soon, but it did cause consternation by those who wanted to see a more united Klatch. The JDF was the only true unifying Klatchian instrument that the other states would grudgingly approve of if not necessarily support. And even it was hamstrung by a lackadaisical parliament, a weakened interim President, and apathy throughout most of the Klatch. For its strength came from contributions from each member state and when the members stop believing in the true wonderfulness, diversity, and weirdness of the Klatch, then it could possibly die as well.

Still, there was no great outside threat looming which would give rise to the Klatch rising up like a pack of rabid wolves to meet the invader. No. The internal war in Timaru and Moskau was still raging, albeit at a lower level. The wonders of a muzzled press and remote geography some would say.

But the Klatchian Marshals, a more visible representation of the intelligence service of the JDF, were quite interested in the arrival of the certain Dyellian family. The JDF did keep extensive records of all important people and would expend a small sum to keep them under a watchful eye. This didn’t mean that certain states weren’t interested, but it meant that the JDF were usually first and had a vast amount of resources to draw upon. But, it was always better if certain individuals would announce their arrival instead of being force underground and therefore making it harder to find them. Much better, indeed, for them to unfurl banners and have them announce their presence.

Port Olympus was an interesting city in design. It did enable one, it they are smart enough, to discretely set up shop in a rundown apartment opposite a certain six bedroom house and monitor it with high powered telescopes, cameras, infra red, and whatever other electronic goodies the Intel R&D department could cook up. Doubtful there would be Var tech involved, since those secretive dragons to the north tended to be more, well, less subtle in some areas. And were not likely to share whatever they had for the JDF in that area. But some information could be gleaned just from passive observation. It also enabled certain agencies that did the monitoring to also have some influence in sentry rotations and whatnot so that certain gaps could appear, if they so wanted to change the posture of the passive monitoring to more...aggressive. Everything remained routine at the moment though so as to not arouse any suspicion.

Of course the Marshals already sent one of their own. A Dyellian, in fact, but the chances of turning up anything truly useful at the reception was slim. The Dyellians weren’t stupid. What would be interesting is what happens after the reception. Where they go, what they do and who they meet would be carefully recorded and analyzed. After all, once the rumour of that certain Dyellian family was confirmed, then a shadowy team of agents was activated just for them.

The Inquisitors who met Sir Aldred didn't give any names. Although one was eyeing him in a manner that just shouted, 'I'd gladly kill you infidel... but unfortunately my boss likes you'...

He was shown inside to where Caroline and Alexia had seated themselves, "Ah Sir Aldred." Alexia stood up, which cuased a raised eyebrow from the other woman.

"We have names and such." Caroline waved the sheet of paper.

Most of the names would mean nothing, although even Aldred should know who 'Lunchtime O'Booze' was, the former Privy Councillor of Klatch. Alexia apparently was becoming a beacon for all disgruntled Dyellians.

"By the way, this is Caroline ab Ieuaf." Alexia introduced the other woman.

Caroline frowned, "This is quite a gamble for me you know... without your support I'll run out of money pretty rapidly, Alexia's powerbase will collapse, then Alexia and probably myself as well will be torn apart."

Of course finding true confirmation that Alexia ap Adam was one of the Glawis dynasty was fairly hard to come by, except from the records inside the House itself. It seemed that Caroline, while still working in the Cheka had managed to unearth ISE files regarding her and her execution... an execution that had never come to pass, because a Revolution had happened. The documents were definitely genuine...

Sir Aldred simply nodded and gave the list a cursory glance. He didn't acknowledge any introductions.

"That is all fine and well that you have support from exiled Dyellians and Dyellian ex-pats, but it does not speak to what support you have in Dyelli-Beybi proper.

Your drive for legitimacy here in Port Olympus is going reasonably well, but I would be wary to extrapolate it to support within your nation proper. We know that the church, is supporting Soult, he is even to be coronated by the cardinal in St. Guineford's , how will that affect your legitimacy in the eyes of those still in Dyelli Beybi itself? I would need to see proof of support within the nation itself, and a support for the ideals you profess."

He had given the usual frank Vaadian assessment of the situation. He glances at Caroline. "I cannot justify financial support on the basis of the support you have garnered in Port Olympus. Port Olympus is not Cyro."

"That's funny." Caroline grunted, "I could have sworn the Church was fighting Soult... and where do you suppose our existing funds are coming from? We have the Inquisition anyway. That is spiritual power of a moderate degree."

Alexia sighed dramatically, "What do you think happens to people who publically support me in Cyro?"

"They die." Caroline supplied the answer, "Horribly."

"So before I can garner any kind of support in Cyro, I have to prove that I am a serious contender. Then people might actually start to listen." Alexia continued, "but to prove I'm a contender I need to be able to field some kind of military and secure some kind of victory over Soult... and for that I need a lot of money. You only need to look at New Dyelli and East Benjia, the provinces are practically in revolt."

"Furthermore." Caroline continued, "If you look at your history, you will recall Fasta Benj, including East Benjia was the stronghold of support for the Tzar during the Third Civil War, where Himmler came to power."

If Alexia managed to pull this one off, if would be the fifth Civil War...

"I believe." Caroline looked to Alexia, who gave her a short nod, "That if we take Fort Xui-Goh, we will not only knock open the gates into East Benjia, but will prove that we have the strength to at least offer some kind of opposition to Soult."

Xui-Goh was one of a series of forts in the thin slice on New Dyelli that had once belonged to Vrak... it was a small slither of land connecting New Dyelli to the Djel Valley, with East Benjia just to the South. Taking one of these forts would allow access across this piece of land into the East Benjian foot hills.

"Believe me." Caroline grunted, "I've been working at this long enough, go down there and check out the Benjians yourself if you like. They will support us. Furthermore this will be no repeat of the Third Civil War, the Republic's top two Commanders of that war have both indicated they will join us."

Sir Aldred gave them the look of a man being sold a car with no tires, no doors and a picture of an engine under the hood.

"The mercenaries your Cardinal hired came to terms with Soult, in a very favourable manner to the Cardinal. Your pilfered gold, if it is still coming in, is the Cardinal hedging his bets. Which is what I believe these exiles and your two top Commanders are doing."

He pauses and checks his watch "I can appreciate your situation, but you have to appreciate mine. We are talking of hundreds of billions of Drachma that it will take to back you, I am not yet prepared to make this investment to a band of expatriats looking to get back into their home country anyway possible.

I need to be assured that your top Commanders and backers aren't simply riding you into power to dispose of you when they are in. With your people's record of rebellion, that is a distinct posibility."

He pauses again looking at the Inquisitors "It also looks like these Inquisitors have you, not the other way around, I have no trust for a Palace Guard that will turn on you and find another noble to back as soon as you turn your back on the throne for socialism and democracy. I don't trust God to stay their dagger at your back, no more than I trust that an invisible dragon will charge in and eat Soult."

He shrugs "I'm sorry, but what you have here makes a delightful government in exile, but hardly a sustainable, viable revolution."

"Contrary to what you may believe not everyone is motivated entirely by selfishness." Carline blurted out in response to the Comment about the Cardinal coming to terms, "But no, there are very obvious reasons he can't send us billions of Kronors."

Alexia was looking similarly annoyed, "Nobody commands me, but myself, these Inquisitors have sworn fealty to the House of Glawis, and that is me."

She offered what seemed to be a proud smile to the door Guards, "They aren't here for democracy, socialism or any of the above. They are here to support me."

"No as for our Commanders." Caroline continued the general retort, "You've already seen O'Booze's signature, the other is a valuable intelligence force, and I fail to see why I should compromise them without some clear indication that you will put some money on the table if we do."

"If you're not interested we will find other funding." Caroline concluded for the pair, "If I was a little more suspicious I'd say you were a Chekist. It's very convenient you encourage all of this then pull the plug at the last minute."

"In fact." her voice had turned suddenly very silky, "You've seen a lot of dangerous information... Perhaps too much. Are you really with this Conventry Institute of Democracy, or have I been a very, very gullible person?"

Sir Aldred just shook his head and gave Alexia an incredulous look. "If we gave money to every disgruntled group that set up a government in exile and lined up expatriats to sign on in support, we would be bankrupt by this time next week.

The Institute will not give support unless we see that you have real support inside Dyelli Beybi. It's as simple as that. If those that would support you are too afraid to stand up and voice their support then I would question what value they would be in fighting for you. True change must come from the People, if the people aren't willing to stand up and show support for you, even it means they may die, then they are clearly not prepared to earn their place in a democracy."

He pauses as Alexia suggests that he is not who he says is "I make no gurantees about who I am, just as I made no guarantees about giving you anything, other than consideration." He motions to Caroline "She is the one who brought me here and put me in contact with you, ask her. Do you trust Mr. Johnson? I don't have to prove who I am to anybody, nor will I."

He stands and adjusts his coat "It is you that must prove to me that the People of Dyelli Beybi are ready to fight for their freedom. Many people have lost their lives, money and reputations supporting the weak-chinned Dyellians, I am not about to do so, unless it is clearly warranted.

You have my number, if you have any real evidednce of popular support among the Dyellian People, then call. I will reassess the situation and the possibility of earning our support. Your movement is far to small and far to isolated to have any validity at this point, I am sorry."

It had in fact been Caroline laying allegations, she looked about to order someone to shoot Aldred, but Alexia held up a hand, "OK... I've told you I have support on the ground in East Benjia... what is it that you want precisely. I say precisely, because as much as you can call us weak chinned, I can call you Vaadians vague, arrogant and damned unhelpful."

"If I was a proud person I'd tell you to go burn in hell, but I am not proud." she sighed, "What is it that you want? Before you say something stupid like open rebellion, I am not about to sacrifice my people in some futile Warsaw style uprising, because the life of any Dyellian is worth far more than all the Drachmas in Ilek-Vaad."

"I would take vague, arogant and unhelpful as a compliment. I don't recall you having helped me in anyway?" Sir Aldred replies to Caroline with a smirk.

He turns back to Alexia "You, and more specifically your people, need to show me that you are going to act, rather than sit here and wait for my money. You have said that New Dyelli and East Benjia are already in revolt. Show me that they mean to fight, and that they mean to follow you. If you believe in this cause, you must lead from the front and your people must rise up to fight with you.

If I simply wanted to hire a mercenary army to defeat Soult and impose democracy from the top, I would hardly give any money to you. You have said the people will rally to you. Well, let's see that. I'm willing to put my money where my mouth is, but only if you are prepared to takle action and show me that I'm wrong about your lack of support in Dyelli Beybi."

"I could ask what guarantees we have, but you actually can't give us any." Alexia frowned in a slightly confused manner, although she probably wasn't confused at all, "You don't seem to grasp Dyellian politics, so I will let Caroline explain the basis of the four... well three States."

"There are Three States in Dyelli Beybi. They are a loose confederation at best. Soult's powerbase is in the Djel Valley, thats the whole Cyro, Bath, York, Saint Guineford's area, however he is not popular in New Dyelli or East Benjia the Western States of what he is calling the Greater Empire. East Benjia has always been the stronghold of Tzarist sentiment, many of the East Benjian Army were involved in the Benjian Invasion. We need to get there." Caroline explained in one of her more patronising voices.

"I could instigate a rebellion." Alexia seemed to be weighing up her options, "But I need weapons. Or do you think we can take on Soult's army with bad language?"

"We can give you a rebellion, but we need weapons and a minimal level of equipment." the young Tzarina concluded, "I'm not asking for golden castles or blank cheques. I just want the equipment to give my people a fighting chance, or we'll be massacred."

Sir Aldred looked slightly annoyed "I am giving you exactly as much of a guarantee that you are giving me. All you are saying is that East Benjia is a hotbed of Tzarist support, but what assurances do I have that they will fight for you?"

He pauses and takes his seat again "Very well, I will give you weapons, but I must have insurance placed on them. Along with the weapons you will also take with you my military advisor and he will have veto power over any plan you cobble together using my weaponry that he finds improbable.

Give me a port where you need the weapons delivered, I will have two and a half million Sig-542 7.62mm rifles, five hundred thousand Kord 12.7x109mm machine guns, one hundred thousand AGS-17 30mm grenade launchers, two hundred and fifty Pyrrhic Crusader Mark III 155mm mobile artillery untis and two hundred and fifty Jaguar-Daimler Growler tank killers, all ready in three days.

I will also have two months worth of ammunition for all of that. I assure you that so long as we have a secure port to offload, I can have oil tankers from countries friendly to Soult take them in, no one will know they are there until it is too late."

"None whatsoever Sir Aldred," the young Tzarina offered one of her most vacant smiles, "Maybe I'm asking you to put a little faith in me, just as I'm putting a little in you."

"Tanks and self propelled artillery are pointless." Mortimer had sidled into the room while they were talking, "We don't know how to work them, they'll be as much a danger to us as the enemy."

"What would be much nicer would be some simpled 155mm howitzers and some anti-tank rockets... something like a Javelin." he concluded.

Alexia ignored the Inquisitor for the moment, "I accept, we'll take your advisor. I am not a military thinker, that will go to the Generals General O'Booze and General Pickelheimer."

She finally decided to reveal the second. He had commanded the retreat from Sheffield, heavily mauling the Benjian advance while extracting his own divisions more or less unscathed. He was supposed to be good, although had stayed aloof from politics since the Third Civil War... apparently he was meddling again.

"Do you think you can air drop some of those supplies in South West Benjia? That area isn't as heavily watched as East Benjia and we can have people sneak across the border to pick them up." Caroline this time.

"My artillery and tank killers come with advisors that can show your men how to use them, not only that , but the systems in them have been designed so that if you can play a video game, you can drive or shoot with them."

He frowns again at the mention of air drops "No, most certainly not. Too much risk of damage or loss. Either you have enough support to secure port access or you won't even get my weapons. Do you see the problems that start to arise when you try to plan a coup without sufficent popular support? I am not going to risk my materials simply because you are concerned about a few people being killed, if you and your followers are concerned about that then you are in the wrong business.

I refuse to allow the sacrifice of my materials for people that are too scared to stand up and do what they believe is right. The price of freedom is blood, and there is no way around that."

Sir Aldred was simply being realistic, revolutions were always messy and he was very concerned with Alexia's unwillingness to take risks.

"The Institute will not be the next New Shiron, or Neo-Tyr that sticks their neck out for a luke warm, ill conceived Tzarist insurgency. You had better start talking like you are prepared to take some risks before you expect me to."

It wasn’t that the Marshals were lacking in equipment, but there was no way they could get close to the conversation between the Vaadians and Tzarists without being spotted. Undoubtedly, the former two parties would know that they were under surveillance and likely would not disclose everything now. After all, high powered directional microphones can only pick up so much and did encounter some level of screening from white noise generators. The area was not bugged before hand and besides, it was assumed that a good sweep by the Dyellians would have picked up anything. But, faces were recorded and then searched through the JDF archives and also states that were more, well, inclined to help the Klatch instead of work against them. Discreet, high level inquiries were sent to the respective states own intel agencies, but pointedly avoided, at least for the moment, Dyelli Beybi. That state would warrant another approach.

The JDF was also aware that some of the states would also have their own agents on the ground, most notably the VIS since Port Olympus was located there and the walruses did share a border with the Dyellians. The JDF was hoping that no one did anything overtly stupid at the moment.

Deep in an underground bunker under Port Olympus itself, a few senior intelligence experts mused over the slick photos of Sir Aldred, Alexia ap Adam, Caroline ab Ieuf, and a few more that they couldn’t attach a name to as of yet. They did know that all the players could not just stay holed up in the Tzarina’s residence forever. Of course, phone, cell, and sat phones were now being monitored and even if the message was encrypted, it was likely that the JDF would be able to break it sooner or later. The Federated government did make it a point to have some supercomputers dedicated to cryptology.

Initial opinions were thrown out. If this did concern Dyelli Beybi, then there was a high probability that some sort of coup or rebellion was in the planning stages. The past history of that southern province indicated that this was the most likely course that would occur. They weren’t sure exactly how the Vaadians were involved but they were worried that they were even in the picture. It would all that some states would need to use it as an excuse to attack Ilek-Vaad, invade Dyelli Beybi itself, or worse. The Klatch was a powder keg and only through the efforts of a few, well-placed stabbings managed to contain situations that could otherwise plunge the whole region into chaos.

What they didn’t know was where, when, and who else were involved. The shadowy team that was activated was now ordered to tag all the participants and follow them. No order was given yet to capture, but the option was on the table.

"Perhaps you don't understand the request." Caroline seemed to be staying calm, which wasn't something she usually did, "What do you think will happen if you sail a boat into a Dyellian Port? Customs will be all over it. We need to secure the port say 10 minutes before the boat arrives. We need a perimeter or they'll just flatten us with an AH-1."

An AH-1 was a Dyellian made monstrosity of a mobile artillery piece. What photos existed of the vehicle suggested in was unspeakably large, although nothing on the Konnigshrew...

"So I want some weapons air dropped." She continued, "That way you're far less likely to end up giving weapons to Soult."

"If you think I'm not taking risks, then you have no idea what I'm doing now." Alexia gave Sir Aldred a stern look, "I'm revealing myself to people. I'll have assassins on my tail already. Do you know why I'm doing it? So that when we arrive people are expecting us, and are ready to act if that is their wish."

"Anyway." Caroline continued, more or less indicating the meeting was over for now, "You can go and speak to Lunchtime, I will organise for you to meet him."

Sir Aldred simply shook his head dismissively. "Perhaps it would be better if I spoke with Mr. O'Booze."

He stood and nodded "Good day."

*****

For the Marshals and the VIS keeping tabs on Sir Aldred and the CID was easy. The CID was well known, world wide for funding democracy projects, such as organizing unions political parties and unions and playing mediator in tense areas, such as Karmanyaka. There were only rumors of them aiding coup d'etats, nothing proveable.

Mainly they attempted to step in and use charity , donations and organizational power to help states that had already decided upon democracy.

Finding background informaton on Sir Aldred and any of his Vaadian cohorts, was now impossible for the VIS and any Federation body. Whereas the Free Reublic had always been forth coming , quick and up front with background check requests in the past, these were requests were now ignored, the Velite Guard were not even polite about it, Vrakian and Federation officials that attempted to get such information would simply be hung up on.

The only background on Sir Aldred they would have would be his passport and visa information, and whatever they could glean from his arrival about four months ago.

The Klatchians didn't expect much if any cooperation from the Vaadians once relations did go south. Of course, that also meant that the Vaadians were woefully ignorant on what the Marshals, the VIS, and any other intelligence agency in the Klatch would or was prepared to do. Certainly both sides can make assumptions and would be able to put together a rough picture of what was happening. That is exactly what the Marshals were doing when the Tzarina first called such a meeting. Now what had to be done is to determine exactly what Soult may or may not do, if he knew about such a meeting taking place.

The problem with Dyelli Beybi is that the several factions that clamboured to be in charge usually had a tenous grasp on power and transition was always bloody. Which made the rest of the Klatch a bit nervous since it a)left Dyelli Beybi more susceptible to outside influence, b)more likely to attack another state or c)more likely to attack a foreign power. There were undoubtedly other possible courses of action, but these were what the Marshals were worried about.

As far as Sir Aldred, well, the fact that he was a Vaadian did not sit well with the Klatchians. And the Vaadians were also shut out of the intel loop from the Klatchian side as well. The relationship between Ilek-Vaad and Karmanyaka also was under more scrutiny, but very discretely. So much so that for all purposes, it would seem to be business as usual.

The thing about the Dyellians was that they still acted very feudally when push came to shove. People followed 'great men'. Soldiers followed their officers and frequently had little opinion of their own regarding politics and the like. When a 'great man' died they would latch onto another, and so it continued, the subtle feudalism that Alexia hated.

Lunchtime O'Booze was one of these men. His house in Port Olympus was protected by retainers, armed retainers unlike the Inquisitors around Alexia Baldwin. He alone among the Dyellian Generals commanded more respect than Soult. He alone could potentially pull troops to change sides. He was essential.

He was also bald, ageing and overweight. Sir Aldred was ushered into the man's prescence. It was a huge drawing room come office with ornate gilded furniture and a large window behind his desk. O'Booze was seated behind it wearing a short sleeved white shirt and grey, pressed trousers, "So you're this Vaadian." he grunted.

"I don't like Vaadians." he announced unpleasantly, "Meddlesome, arrogant outsiders with no concept of how Dyellians live and no desire to understand. Oh I understand, if we accept your help we'll be paying the price for generations to come... by I'm not in charge."

He grimaced, "So what do you want?"

The survelliance team tracking Sir Aldred reported this latest development to their superiors. With the supposed involvement of O'Booze, the Marshals became even more paranoid. Lunchtime's thick folder was brought out and again scrutinized by experts. Former associates that had a likelihood of being involved with the crusty Dyellian general were now under survelliance. Also, the Marshals were more worried about what the other intel agencies would do. There was no telling what, say, the Dukratians or North Germanians would do. The VIS were just as likely to kill Lunchtime or be content to watch him. Quietly, the Marshals asked the other agencies to feed in what they knew about the players and to sit back for now. The latter likely would not have much effect due to the structure of the Federation but it was hoped that cooler heads would prevail.

At least the meeting at O'Booze's residence would likely remain a secret from the Marshals. Undoubtedly, the Marshals or others could not get close to the general save for an all out assault on his residence.

"I don't like Vaadians." he announced unpleasantly, "Meddlesome, arrogant outsiders with no concept of how Dyellians live and no desire to understand. Oh I understand, if we accept your help we'll be paying the price for generations to come... by I'm not in charge."

He grimaced, "So what do you want?"

Sir Aldred looked over O'Booze "I don't particularly like Dyellians either, unevolved, lackwit peasants. So let's make this short and sweet."

"All I want is for the Dyellian people to stand up and realize that they don't live in caves anymore and that they don't have to follow every strongman that shows up with a pack of armed men.

Ms. Ap Adam wants me to get together and arrange with you what support I am willing to give, but I will tell her what I told you. I will give no support until people inside Dyelli Beybi stand up and show they are willing to fight for their freedom. I'm not going to stick my neck out for a Tzarina, or a General, I will not airdrop in supplies and weapons that we aren't even sure that anyone but Soult will use.

Give me a port, an airstrip, a sign that the People are willing to give their lives to better themselves and fight their oppressor and I will underwrite the new Republic of Dyelli Beybi. I will give you hardware , training and money, I just need something other than a band of expatriat mercenaries to back."

"Peasants?" O'Booze scoffed, "Well of course many of them are, but you lump the theanes and carls in the same group? How little you know of us, how very Vaadian."

He was sneering, and appeared ready to pick a fight, quite unlike the proud, yet generally respectful Tzarina. He glared at Aldred malevolently, "She is so naive, were I the Tzar I'd have you flogged for daring to interfere, but I'm not, so I have to put up with you."

"Let me paint a picture for you." O'Booze was sounding more than a little sarcastic, "I have guerillas ready and waiting for the signal in East Benjia. Now I could order them to rise up now, and doubtless they would. They're Benjians they're insane, and unfortunately equipped with an assortment of large kitchen implements and bolt action hunting rifles."

"What do you think will happen? The EBA is on high alert. The'll be on them in minutes. They have tanks, planes and artillery. Tell me what do you think will happen to my guerillas? Then answer me how you think you'll send a shipment of supplies into a rebel held Port with the Grand Fleet sitting off the Coast? Or move a plane into a rebel airport with the DBAF cratering the runway?"

"The most sensible option is for you to drop them in South West Benjia." he continued, his sneer had vanished somewhere during his speech, "Near the border one night and my people can slip over and retrieve them. Then we can go and capture a port so your ship can be blown out of the water by the Alexigrad or whatever it is you plan to do."

Sir Aldred, like just about every other Lassean, reacted in the usual way to a scowling, blunt foreigner, he relaxed, he even grinned. Lasseans hated politeness, it was to them a sign that the person wasn't being wholly up front. The blunt O'Booze was someone Aldred could deal with.

"I only call them peasants because they act like it, even your thanes and carls are followers. When your people stand up and are all ready to be counted, I will change my opinion."

He looked incredulous at the flogging comment "Interference? General O'booze" He even addressed O'Booze with his title, something he had pointedly refused to do with the Tzarina "I was contacted by your Tzarina, and asked to help, if you think my 'interference' is counter productive, you need to tell her that. If you ae going to have a chip on your shoulder about me giving you arms and money, I'm not going to waste my time. Insane guerillas with butchers knives? Once again, not what I'm looking for."

He pauses and leans forward glaring at O'Booze " Air drops are a sure way to lose and damage equipment, if you can find some suitable area for even VTOL transports to land, that would be the best, worst case solution, I prefer that my lads, hand your lads the equipment personally and show them how to use it.

Even Emperor Soult won't sink oil-tankers coming to buy his black gold, it is nothing for me to load a 'tanker' with supplies and equipment, all I need is a secure wharf or wharehouse to offload it in, while it takes on crude. You're a military man, logistics has to be secure, or your men will only ever use butcher knives. Instead of demanding that I do things that will obviously not aid you in any substantial way, why don't put your allegedly sharp mind to work figuring out how we can make this work."

Sir Aldred sounds sincere, but unwilling to budge from his position.

"Of course they'e followers." O'Booze grunted, "Everyone needs a person of substance to follow. I followed my Generals until I became a General, now people follow me."

The General's face split into a wolfish grin, "Even I follow a leader, and that's poor naive little Alexia... and no, I have no problem with money and weapons, what I don't like is the fact that you haven't set a price on them. I would understand a loan, but I don't believe in the goodness of humanity because I've met people."

O'Booze hadn't given her a title either, in fact had been positively rude about her. The lack of title wouldn't annoy her, she despised all outward signs of her somewhat reluctant birth right... "So I'm guessing you either hope she'll be so grateful for the help that she'll roll over for Ilek-Vaad and Dyelli Beybi will become a big friendly puppet state, or you've got some deal where you get to select her husband."

"Maybe you have your eye set on her." he grinned again, "She's a pretty thing, and worth a fortune, although a bit too skinny for my liking. Either way, I am a Dyellian, and no matter what you may think of us, I will not submit to foreign rule."

He didn't give time for his comment to really sink in, switching the conversation straight back to military matters, "Guerillas with knives isn't my idea of a successful campaign either, I'm glad we agree. We can do VTOL. Fasta Benj is a frickin' plain. Close your eyes and point to the border and you have your landing zone."

"Soult would be fine with a tanker. I don't see exactly what you're thinking though." O'Booze had developed a quizzical look, the unpleasantness gone for a moment while he tried to figure out what was going on, "Do you want us to capture a Port Facility? like what the ab Ieauf girl told me, or do you want us to covertly sneak stuff off a ship in an Imperial Port?"

Sir Aldred sniffed dryly "The Institute only cares that Dyelli Beybi becomes a democracy, we do not care about it's relations with the Free Republic. The only price that we have set is that if Alexia wins, Dyelli Beybi becomes a real democracy, an inclusive democracy."

He then turned back to the military matters "Sneaking cargo off of a shiop would be just fine, if you can manage that. I think you should know that Alexia and Ms. ab Ieauf had turned down my mobile artillery and tank killers as too hard to get in. A single tanker could all of those and the men to show your men how to use them.

Machine guns and grenade launchers are fine, but you know better than they that heavier equipment will be necessary sooner rather than later. I suppose that they also declined to tell you that you'd be accepting my military advisor?"

"Of course I know better than them." O'Booze grunted, "A spy and a police officer in their 20s are hardly people I'd consult with when planning a campaign against Soult... who knows his business I might add."

"I'm not going to decline any heavy equipment." Soult continued, "Don't know why the hell they'd do that... but I can see problems in sneaking them off a tanker. They're somewhat obvious... and before you say put them in containers, customs would be all over them like a swarm of rats if they saw us lifting containers...no..."

He paused, thinking, "OK, well you can't sail your ship in if we seize the Port first because Soult will sink or seize it, so you have to sail it in before we attack. Then we seize the port a couple of hours later, and we can roll the equipment off at our leisure."

"Of course I'd reccommend you use a freighter, not a tanker, negotiate some deal to buy cars from DBFC... Our support is in East Benjia and there's no oil there, tankers go to Cyro or Saint Guineford's and all three of those Ports are crawling with troops loyal to Soult."

It had seemed he'd forgotten about his concerns over Vaadian influence in Dyelli Beybi, but suddenly returned to the topic, "You know why I like Alexia?"

He didn't wait for a response, "Despite all the stuff that's happened to her, she still believes in the goodness of humanity and that they deserve better than Soult. She'll be exactly the kind of Tzarina we need in a Constitutional Monarchy, people will love her, not fear her. Sooner or later though, some b@$4@rd is going to completely screw her over... so I've got my eye on you, and your advisor."

"And while we're on that." he continued, "They'd better bloody be an advisor, if they think they're running this campaign they have other things coming."

"Auto transport, even better. I'm sure I can arrange that." Sir Aldred says with a nod as he makes a note of it in his PDA, in code of course.

"My advisors main duty will be to insure my investment. If you get to reckless with my equipment or money, he will put a stop to it. Of course he will have some men with him to train your men in using their new equipment. I think you'll get along with General Deadmarsh just fine."

General Deadmarsh was the other Retaliatory Guard General that was reprimanded for the Foreign Guard's failings and had recently retired. He was in the news quite a bit for his role in helping the Karmnayakan General Ozcan defeat Field Marshal Grune's best forces at Sleyfalls. O'Booze may or may not have heard of him, but he was known as a tenacious, bulldog like commander that won battles out of sheer perserverance. Not very Retaliatory Guard like at all.

" Don't worry about us betraying Alexia. I have defined our conditions with her and she has agreed to them. Before we do anything to her, she will have to betray us."

"I'm not reckless." O'Booze replied bluntly, "I conquered Dyelli Beybi once, I can do it again."

"OK I'll take your General Deadhorse, although I doubt I'll like him." he stood up, this was the cue that the meeting was ending, "I'll send that snotty little Baroness down to lead the insurrection. Hopefully she'll catch a bullet."

He didn't seem to like Caroline ab Ieuaf that much either, "It's funny isn't it..." he growled, obviously refering to her, "How we end up fighting with the very same people we were trying to kill a few years back..."

"Anyway, you give us a date and time and I'll make sure my people are at the rendezvous."

Sir Aldred nods "Three days, just like I told your Tzarina. I will have General Deadmarsh contact you about the location, if you don't mind?"

He stood and nodded to General O'Booze "A lot of people have conquered Dyelli Beybi it seems, it just never seems to stick."

He then took his leave. "Good afternon General."

*****

The next day a courier would arrive with a packet containg the information on where General Deadmarsh had chosen to land. The courier looked suspiciously Scandavian, and was armed. He also refused to answer any questions, or to even go inside simply handing the packet to one of O'Booze's guards.

Deadmarsh had chosen a fairly remote area in Fasta Benj , right up on the border. He was being fed information on patrols and density of troops and or police by Mr. Johnson, so it was an area that was relatively free of hangers about.

"I never lost it." O'Booze growled, "Felix did that one all on his own."

"Goodbye, Sir Aldred."

----------

As O'Booze had promised, Caroline ab Ieuaf was waiting for Deadmarsh along with a truck and half a dozen Benjians. They were concealed, but as soon as they landed she stepped out.

The jets arrived promptly, they are the sleek Marathon-C/S transports, sporting radar absorbent skin, silent engines and they come in low, barely 75 feet from the ground to avoid radar. They have no lights and kick up quite a wind as they land. Five of them land, each Marathon-C can carry five hundred men and their equipment, but tonight only about a eighty men disembark, the jets are packed to the gills with weapons and ammunition. The jets also deploy their under the wing 40mm auto-cannons, that swing around menaceingly scanning the peremiter, using infrared and thermographic imagers to pick out everything that might be hidden for a few thousand yards.

As Caroline steps out, a tall gaunt man, limping heavily and walking with a cane, hobbles up to her, he is dressed in a uniform of some sort with a subdued black star on his dark grey hat. The men flanking are all Scandavians, in Foreign Guard uniforms with the insignia ripped off, remnants of General Deadmarsh's disbanded 'Joms Gaarde'.

General Deadmarsh limps over to Caroline and glares at her with his one eye, his left covered eye with a patch, and introduces himself.

"Bleddy fecking hell. We say we're coming with millions of guns with ammo and you bring A fecking truck? Ab-so-fecking-lutely brilliant. Should I fire off a few flares? Maybe Soult has some more trucks!"

His men ignore him and get busy unloading, using the half sized forklifts it will only take about 20-30 mins, they seem to have done this before.

"Wow." Caroline gave a big eyed impersonation of someone being impressed, although her tone was typically sarcastic, "I should have thought of moving a convoy through Dyelli Beybi. That wouldn't look suspicious at all."

The truth was nobody had informed her of how much was coming in. She had guessed at a much smaller amount after Sir Aldred's reluctance to give anything that didn't come off the back of a ship... not that she was about to admit her ignorance. Deadmarsh reminded her far too much of her brother in law (who she regarded as a weasel).

"I actually thought that this Coventry Institute might send someone with something approaching moderate Intelligence." she continued cheerfully, "But I should have known better. Let me guess, you think that the secret of a good Campaign is yelling loudly?"

"And who are these clowns?" she asked, nodding towards Deadmarsh's escort, "I heard we were getting a dog that jumps through hoops, but they didn't tell me the whole circus was coming."

"Pack what you can on the truck." her tone suddenly lost the sarcastic edge, it seemed that she had had enough trading insults, "Put the rest in the bushes over there, cover it with some netting we'll pick it up tomorrow or whenever."

General Deadmarsh seemed to ignore Caroline, until she mentioned the Institute, at which point he move shockingly quickly and whacked her across the tender side of her knee with his rather hard cane. His men had already started unloading everything and were unrolling camouflage netting for what wouldn't fit on the truck and expertly hiding the other boxes is low, easily concealable stack.

General Deadmarsh growled as he waved his cane menacingly "Don't compromise security with unnecessary flapping of you gums, Miss. Just get in your truck and let us handle this.

A rebellion with one truck. Please tell me that you have more troops than the driver and his special friend?"

He hobbled over to his men, trailing off , and randomly hitting his men rather expertly with his cane to get them to move faster. Withing the half hour the truck was loaded, the jets departed and the other supplies were well concealed and everything was ready to go.

"Well let's go." Deadmarsh said as he opened the door to the truck and climbed in.

Whether or not Deadmarsh had intended it, Caroline had not been expecting any kind of physical attack, nor was she particularly large... the upshot being that her leg gave out under her, leaving her sprawled on the ground.

There was a hush, the Dyellians had frozen. None of them were armed. The initial fear that had reistered on Caroline's face, was replaced by something else, when she spoke she sounded quite calm, "Yes, if you want to get in the truck the driver will take you to headquarters."

"You may leave." the last was pronounced with every last shred of dignity she had left. She made no move to move herself, and the Dyellians didn't seem in any mood to question her.

Deadmarsh's men split in two, half would remain hidden to guard the equipment, the other half piled into the truck with the equipment, one man pausing to help Caroline up, and into the truck. Deadmarsh's men were uniformly quiet and scowling.

Deadmarsh meanwhile glared at the driver "Well, are we waiting for the chauffer?"

"Piss of pakrah" was the sharp retort the soldier who tried to help the livid ex-spy got.

As with all loadings there was some confusion, the driver, a grey haired man, probably in his sixtees, glared at. He stank of cigarettes, but that wasn't unusual for a Dyellian "Not until the cargo is properly secured. Unless you care to be the one seated directly in front of it, we will do it the way we're supposed to."

A few moments later the other Dyellian yelled from the back, "Yeah all secure boss."

The driver stood where he was, his arms folded, "So you going to hit me too, or do you only hit women?"

He spat, then stalked off to the cab. The truck rumbled into life, chugging away. It was an old DBFC truck; nothing fancy about it at all, not even much in the way of suspension to ease the ride across the rutted dirt track they were taking, but not likely to break down in a hurry. A thin an aluminium wall spearated the driver's compartment, there was no radio, not that you would probably hear it that well, the vehicle was probably the noisiest truck anyone had had the misfortune to travel on. It would take a while before anyone noticed that the petite Baroness who had been leading the expedition hadn't got back on with them.

The Joms Gaardeman that attempted to help Caroline simply shrugged as she cursed at him, and then stood at attention.

General Deadmarsh watched the driver as he talked, out of the corner of his eye, only pausing to wave his cane in his direction "I only hit those that talk to much. He then clambers into the truck and growls "Shut up and drive."

As the truck pulled away the remaining Joms Gaarde hunkered down with the equipment and concealed themselves, with the exception of the man that had attempted to help Caroline, he now followed her.

The truck headed due East, straight into the foothills, bypassing any major towns. It was a rugged backwater of stunted trees and swirling dust storms where a few hardy grasses clung to the red earth in defiance of the lack of moisture. The first sign of anyone was when someone in a reddish camouflage jacket, with a faded burgundy turban wrapped around their face stepped out of some thorny looking bushes at the roadside.

There was a hurried conversation with the driver, then they stepped back to watch with folded arms from the roadside. It was impossible to tell w.hether it was a man or a woman, most people would assume a man, but Dyellians were odd. All that was visible was a strip of olive skin around a pair of glaring hazel eyes.

The truck followed a dusty path for another couple of kilometres, jolting everyone heavily. Through the small tinted windows the passengers might be able to see dusty hillsides riddled with caves. It was the perfect kind of country to run partisan campaigns in... a good road would cross the hills in an hour, but there was only one good road.

The truck took a turning offroad, driving down a dried out creek bed, before turning left into the yawning mouth of a cave. The truck stopped, and almost instantly the doors were opened by a bevy of snarling Benjians armed with old Kalishnakov rifles. Apparently the rebellion wasn't totally unarmed.

They moved quickly, manhandling people out of the truck and yelling in their peculiar accents. They weren't particularly large people, silimar in height and build to the few Dyellians who were with them, but dark skinned, looking rather like malays.

They seemed in quite a hurry to clear the truck, which was then driven out of the cave mouth, while the Scandavians and Deadmarsh were prodded down a darkened gap in the rock wall. There were no lights and the going was treacherous, until the passage rounded a corner and low and behold, there was a string of tungsten bulbs on the roof emitting a dim glow.

The passage ended in a much better lit cave. It was hot inside, although the locals didn't seem to notice. There were more people in here, loafing about and reclining on the vast piles of boxes that filled the room... most seemed to have been issued with poorly carved wooden rifles for some bizarre reason. The majority were fairly grim looking Benjians who looked more like bandits than soldiers, along with a smattering of people who were presumably Dyellians. Nearly all of the 'Dyellians' were wearing the full face turbans, so i was hard to tell.

"Who's in charge?" it was a Benjian with Sergeant stripes sewn upside down on a dust stained khaki jacket, "Through there."

He hiked a thumb towards a dented steel door that led off to the left. He was carrying an sten gun which he seemed confident carrying, "The rest of you, sit."

Apparently there was no time for pleasantries... In fact, the truck driver had voiced some rather negative opinions of Deadmarsh and his crew, with certain implications as to their loyalty...

The other side of the door seemed to be an office with a single flickering light bulb lighting it up. There was a woman in a chair behind a desk, she didn't look up from her paperwork, motioning towards a rickety stool, "Please, take a Seat."

She was a Dyellian, wearing a sleevless vest and a black beret, a moment or two later she looked up and blinked vaguely at Deadmarsh, "And you are?"

It was Alexia Baldwin, the Tzarina, being stupid and foolhardy, but undoubtedly braver (or madder) than any of the former Royals...

-----------

Caroline was no easy person to follow. Apparently she was aware she was being followed, her tracks began to circle back on themselves, altough generally heading South West... Dyellians were naturally gifted trackers and were among the best scouts in Klatch (although their army tended to suffer from variable morale and being generally unruly and disorganised), it posibly had something to do with their small physique.

Sooner or later, it seemed certain she'd lay an ambush...

General Deadmarsh looked at the rickety stool with his one good eye, pondered it it a second and then knocked it to the ground with his cane introducing himself as he did. "I am General Deadmarsh, I was lead to believe that you'd be expecting me and my men. I would prefer to stand , I have one good leg , which is more than I can say for that stool.

You have a few tons more equipment out in the bush that your single truck was sadly inadequate at hauling, and by the looks of the pitchforked armed peasants around here, I'd say you need them sooner than later. Soult isn't Frankenstein's monster, a mob of farmers with torches and sticks aren't going to scare him away.

I'm sure we have precious little time to show your men how to use weapons, so we need to waste as little time as possible in actually getting them here."

*****

The Gunnery Sargent continued to tail Caroline until he could be certain that she wasn't leading anyone back to the weaponry, or intending to go back there herself to ambush the rest of the men. Unless of course she ambushed him before he could make that determination.

"An interesting point." the Tzarina shrugged and looked own at her paperwork, "Yes, you meet the description."

"I assure you, I do not keep broken furniture in my office." she said matter of factly, "People might fall off, which would be cause for embarassment wouldn't it."

"As for your equipment, I trust you aren't trying to tell me you're incapable of concealing it?" she paused, apparently believing this to be the reason.

"If you feel so strongly about it, you may make a return run." she looked up again, that vague smile back in place, "you can drive the truck yourself... or you can wait until we deem it is safe."

"Furthermore, you will not refer to my troops as peasants." she sat their and stared at him blankly, "You are a Civilian Contractor as far as I am concerned, and you will behave yourself, if need be a will hire a nanny to teach you some basic etiquette, but I hope it shall not come to that."

Her voice never raised and her tone remained mild throughout, "Do you want to know why I am unhappy with you? You assaulted my second in command who has now gone AWOL. I shall have to find a new one. It will not be you, ill discipline in Senior Officers breeds ill discipline in the ranks. You have displayed ill discipline in the field and further ill discipline in my office. Do not give me any excuses, whatever your reasons the consequences of your actions outweigh those."

"I also share your urgency in these matters. Rest assured I do not plan to sit idly by and do nothing. We cannot though afford to be tracked here. That is infinitely more important than a few extra rifles."

"Now, go and get a good night's sleep. I trust that will improve your mood somewhat." she smiled, it was friendly, "Goodnight General."

She paused, apparently lost in her paperwork again, "Oh... just one last thing... to quote my dear departed father, 'if you cross me, I shall do unto you, what the Lord God did unto the Sodomites.'"


----------

Caroline did ambush him, there was a small rocky ledge, "Why the hell are you following me? Answer me or I'll redecorate your shirt with just a hint of crimson."

There had in theory been just a shadow a moment before, now she was sitting perched on a rocky ledge just behind the Sergeant, "Don't get any funny ideas anout turning round or jumping away because I will shoot you... And don't waste my time. Are you working for Soult?"

General Deadmarsh listened patiently to the Tzarina and was brief after she had finished, after all she had made her point.

"Very well then, but your remind your 'Officers' that I am a mercenary, and I'll hide anyone of them that mentions the CID, or you for that matter if your lips become too loose.

My job is to deliver weapons and train your alleged soldiers how to use them, I wouldn't lead them into battle if you begged me to. The weapons are concealed , but concealment is hardly safe for long. I am sure that I will have a pleasant rest, although fifty some odd years of good-nights sleep has never improved my disposition before, nor do I think it will do it now."

He pauses and salutes sharply "Good evening then. Have your men ready to train with what we have here tomorrow."

*****

The Gunnery Seargent froze, keeping perfectly still and answered Caroline's questions directly " Your not leaving with the General and the truck was suspicious. I had to be certain that you were meeting other operatives here to lead anyone to the stockpile, or that you did not intend to steal it yourself."

He pauses still not moving or turning "You are holding a 9mm on me? Ja?"

OOC: Assume this went in the middle somewhere lol :P

"Mercenary." the Tzarina looked like she was about to spit, that seemed to be a very dirty word, but thought better off it and smiled instead, "You will 'hide' nobody, instead you will report them to me as only I should know, in theory..."

The mild tone was always there, "And if you touch me, I will break both you legs, take away your cane and leave you on the plain until the Benj Cats, or maybe I'll drag you behind a truck until your head falls off."

There seemed to be a brutal side to the young girl, probably a lot to do with living in Dyelli Beybi... "Don't say anything stupid like 'I'd like to see you try', it just sounds childish. In truth I honestly hope we can have a civil working relationship. I really don't like arguments... I am glad we understand each other."

----------

"No, I'm not." Caroline replied matter of factly, although not sounding hostile anymore either, "We're not like other peoples... I am doing as honour demands, I'm leaving my post, I'll resign when I reach the safe house... which obviously I don't particularly want you to know the whereabouts of, we can't afford it to be compromised."

She had been circling him as she spoke, "Nope, 7.63 mm Mauser."

She put the sidearm away then shrugged, recognising the Guardsman from before, "I shouldn't have been rude to you before, sorry... although I doubt you understood all of it."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, in Dyelli Beybi that was normal, others might find it odd, "Can we both go our own ways now?"

In weeks to come she was going to run unopposed for President of Klatch... right now she didn't look that Presidential, just tired.

General Deadmarsh saluted as before "Yes, very well, good evening then."

He didn't sound all that impressed, and judging by his limp, missing eye and hamburger that passed for the left side of his face, others had acted on similar threats before.

*****

The Gunnery Seargent watched Caroline closely and nodded "Oh, you have never tried to shoot a Jaguar before?" he paused knocking on his ceramite helmet "7.62mm , you can shoot me all day if you like."

He didn't seem to react to the quick kiss, General Deadmarsh had beaten all extraneous reaction out of his men years ago. "Should you not be returning to your comrades? It would be suspicious if you didn't?"

can any1 add to the storu

The Tzarina gave a delicate shudder once the door was closed, she really should have had Deadmarsh punished for his actions. He thought he was God, which he was not, he was going to antagonise and demoralise the troops, she'd have to keep an eye on him. Was it really too much to ask for someone who did their job without causing additional complications? O'Booze had said the Vaadians were bad news...

She had a bag under her chair, she reached in, pulling out a small mirror, she stared at her own reflection for a moment. She hated violence and disrespect, but one glance at Deadmarsh had convinced her that violence was the only language that the gloating brute would understand. She grunted and put the mirror back again, she was still the same person, she just needed a convincing mask until that gorilla was off her turf.

There was no need to worry further, he'd get his weapons tomorrow. He could have had them now. He could wait. For now, she had other places to be...

----------

Caroline nodded, "Of course it will be suspicious, but they will soon learn where I am."

She shrugged, "I guess they suspect already... And no, I haven't shot one of you before, although as they say, there is a first time for everything... I never really intended to shoot you anyway, if I had I wouldn't have spoken to you first."

She smiled again, "Can we drop this charade and both go our own ways now? You can come, I'll even let you radio out to say what you're doing, but certainly not where you're going. But then you will have to stay at the safe house until we don't need it any longer or it gets compromised."

General Deadmarsh went to his men, who unloaded the truck and then they all stuck by their equipment, waiting.

*****

"Come?" the Gunnery Seargent sounded surprised "I'm going back to my men and guarding the equipment, either that or you can kill me here. There is no excuse good enough to make me leave, you can't explain something like that to General Deadmarsh."

He shook his head "You can do what you like, whatever spy-games you are up, I don't want no part of."

A pair of Warrant Officer emerged from the base, somewhere. One began taking note of exactly what had arrived, cataloguing it, then organising a group of soldiers to move it deeper into the labarythine base, presumably to the appropriate store.

The other seemed in charge of billeting, eventually assigning everyone somewhere to sleep. This seemed to be a complicated procedure. Normally he would have put them all in the same room, but the Tzarina had told him to break the Scandavians up among the locals to "eliminate barriers of mistrust and thereby improve morale".

The next day and thereafter Deadmarsh would be allowed to train the troops, always though under the watchful eye of a Corporal with a lovingly decorated desert eagle and a heavily scarred face. He would find nearly all the people here were ex soldiers or at least veterans of the last war, and as would pick up a new weapon easily.

For security reasons the truck driver only did a maximum of one run a day. On the first they sent out tents food, water and other miscellaneous supplies for the guards at the drop site.

The Tzarina also did a disappearing act, leaving the base in charge of a Benjian, a certain Brigadier Koizumi who swaggered around in his black uniform with a reddish brown sash about the waist and an ornate katana which must have cost him a small fortune.

----------

"Kill you?" Caroline frowned, "We've already established I'm not going to do that."

She tapped his helmet, "We're on the same side... and at least in this country it's not normal for us to shoot each other."

"Neither do I particularly want you with me, as you should already have gathered."

"Off you go, back to your pile of guns, I might see you around some time." she waved, "Have a nice evening."

General Deadmarsh was in a word, fierce. He was like General Imro to the nth degree, what the Dyellians hadn't realized was that General Imro was considered 'soft' on his men and training. General Deadmarsh was considered harsh.

It was obvious right away that he demanded absolute discipline and had no compunction about striking the men with his cane, prodding them with his cane and so and so forth. Only when they didn't listen though, honest mistakes and questions, even stupid ones, so long as they were framed respectfully were tolerated. Fooling around, sloppy discipline, backtalk, was immediately and harshly corrected. Oddly enough, while Deadmarsh had no issues insulting officers, he never insulted the soldiers.

The machine guns, assault rifles and grenade launchers were easy, and the Joms Gaarde were able to train the veteran soldiers quickly and competently.

The Tlaloc Arms MAMS (Mobile Anti-Material Striker) was a different matter and General Deadmarsh selected the most disciplined and obedient men to train on them. They are very much like the Javelin system, but with a smaller computer, sporting a periscope like camera and a detachable missile pod. The missile itself carried three separate self propelled tungsten dart warheads. Training could be done with the computer and dummy missiles.

General Deadmarsh ignored the Dyellian officers, except to berate them if they got in his way. He had no respect for officers, unless they had proven they could, like him, lead from the front.

******

The Gunnery Seargent simply nodded and headed back to camp.

Back at the drop site, the truck driver would find them waiting, although they wouldn't use the tents or supplies. General Deadmarsh's men did not use tents, and they only used their own rations.

Deadmarsh had massively miscalculated what people percieved his role as...

Imro was tolerated as it was his base, and he was in charge. This was not Deadmarsh's base and he wasn't in charge. The base already had a well entrenched structure and morale was high. Dyellians and Benjians also tended to follow the lead of ''big men'' (and women), i.e. their officers. People sneered at Deadmarsh and blatantly refused to do what he said. The typical response to insults was, "Shut up and do your job."

To start with it seemed people were quite happy to laugh at him, but as soon as the cane came out, so did the swords and the mood in the compound turned murderous.

"Are you some kind of Soultist sent here to breed sedition or are you just incredibly stupid?" it was the small dark figure of Koizumi, who had apparently been watching the goings on from among a group of soldiers sprawled on a big sack of supplies, "The Tzarina has said not to kill him."

The second was aimed at his own troops, "Apparently he's an ally or something, although he says he's a mercenary." Mercenary seemed to be being used here as an acronym for untrustworthy traitor.

This seemed to be enough for the Benjians who were putting their weapons away. The swords didn't seem to be any indication of rank, it was just whoever happened to have brought one away, "You." he pointed at Deadmarsh, "My office now."

The Brigadier's office was similar to the Tzarina's, it was the only other office. It had a chair a stool and a desk, and a rather tatty blue and gold battle flag in a glass case. It was stained with gunpowder and shot full of holes.

"Now." Koizumi rounded on the General angrily, "What makes you think you're in charge? And what makes you think any of my men are going to accept you? As far as I am concerned you are here to show us how to use guns and that is where your role on this compound ends. I do not expect the Warrant officer who does the billeting to yell and carry on like some ape from out of the forrest, so what do you imagine in your strange brain gives you the right?"

General Deadmarsh got more surly and angrier, but his Scandavian men, who where quiet and polite, were now unslinging their assault rifles and looking very upset, muttering to each other under their breaths.

Deadmarsh followed Koizumi into his 'office' and glares at Koizumi as he speaks and as he finishes he snorts and simply says "Right. We're done here. My job was to show you alleged men how to use several hundred billion drachma worth of equipment, and to protect that investment. If your little boyscout adventure was successful I was also to oversee the disbursement of nearly one hundred and twenty billion drachma to help rebuild what you playfully call a nation.

Step one train your troops to use this new equipment. Well, that is shot to hell, I can't train men with no discipline. It is my considered opinion that you and your comrades are capable of defeating Soult, but that you are entirely incapable of making anything like a democratic and free nation, as per my benefactors directives. I will now report this to them.

Good luck. I'll arrange for my own transportation out, my men will begin repacking our equipment."

He turns on his heels and is out. Shouting commands at his men in Scandavian as he passes. They start angrily gathering up the weapons they had been attempting to train men with and re-packing them, as Deadmarsh headed to the cave's mouth, to make a phone call.

"Then get off my base." Koizumi was dead calm, "Before I kill you myself."

"Dyelli Beybi will not be held slave to your money which is what you are demanding." the Brigadier sneered unpleasanty, "We will be free, but first of all we will be free of fat headed foreign Imperialists."

He was sneering now, "Think you can buy yourself command of our army. Capitalist dog. You are or should I say were a civilian contractor. This does not give you the right to command even a fruit vending stall, it is the duty of all my men to put you back in your place. I see what the Tzarina means now. Dyelli Beybians, Benjians, Djellians and D'Regs will never be slaves! Not to you not to anyone."

"We will not bow and we will not bend to you or your dirty money. You have 20 minutes to leave."

General Deadmarsh smirked as he dialed his phone "Smartest thing you've said yet."

Twenty minutes was plenty of time for the supersonic Marathon Transports, using his GPS locater Deadmarsh brought them right to the cave, he didn't care about whether or not it would tip off Soult. Marathons were soon landing back at the original drop site, and at a short distance from the cave.

Deadmarsh's men were just as quick at loading as they were at unloading.

General Deadmarsh saluted Koizumi as he left "Good luck, it would be wise to start picking sides in the civil war that will follow this one now."

The CID, was now done with Dyelli-Beybi.

Koizumi shook his head in utter disbelief, "You really are stupid."

"You come here assuming your money automatically gives you command of my troops, or perhaps you think it's your race. Either way it's an insult to the whole Brigade."

"You are told you are not in Command, quite obviously." he continued reeling off what he seemed to regard as a littany of breathtaking arrogance and stupidity, "Then you still assume you are. Without any mandate but dirty money."

"Then." he finished, "You imagine that as we find you repellant that therefore we are incapable of agreeing among ourselves and are enemies of democracy."

"I hate to break it to you, but you personally are not the definition of democracy."

He paused, eventually returning a grudging salute, just because Dyelli Beybians always insisted on being polite, "My allegiance lies with the Tzarina. She will lead our peoples to freedom."

He spoke of her reverentially... So many did. She was aquiring quite a following just through the force of her character.

Deadmarsh shrugged "Military organization has nothing to do with democracy. I never assumed I was in command, I did assume that I would be allowed to train your men in the correct use of my equipment.Since I was not afforded that courtesy, I will leave.

IF there ever had been any intention to buy your Tzarina, I would be offering more money to get my way. I have no stake in this conflict, and I will not waste my time and resources where it is obviously not wanted.

My help was only conditional on your wanting it. Democratic causes seek help, because they do not fear the consequences of receiving it, dictators are wary of help, because they can personally be held accountable. Think about that."

He said that as he watched his men load, and then limped up the ramp of the last Marathon loading up and leaving.

Koizumi just smiled, "What if the consequence is the loss of our identity?"

That was an end to it. Machinations were afoot in Port Olympus that would see Koizumi armed anyway. At the moment he was worried, but that would soon be alleviated, and later turned into absolute certainty of Victory when the new President appeared on the scene.