NationStates Jolt Archive

Righteo Chaps. The list below gives you all substantial IC evidence thing wasn't pulled out of a hat. Coupla things: a)Please Don't [TAG] this thread, or spamm it up, Here is a link to the OOC thread:

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=11722748#post11722748

b) In terms of IC timings, you've really got no need to post here until I 'get the ball rolling' some more, which should, if all goes well, happen over the next few days.

c) If you're wondering about tech, how I can afford any of what will happen, or anything else, TG me, or ask in the OOC thread.

Thanks.

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11664555&postcount=30
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11672801&postcount=74
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11718208&postcount=48
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11718377&postcount=50

Northford.

Captain Floyd was having a rather stressful day. Not long ago, he had been the content captain of a Small Northfordian Airstrip laying between the Capital and the economic heartland of Northford, the mighty port of Redbridge. His job, like most other experienced pilots in the NAF was not that of combat, but of training other, younger pilots on the Northfordian Civilian Militia planes that were oh-so-common.

But in the last year, that all had changed. With the expansion of the Naval Air Arm, from simple helicopters to actual fighter planes, (Space Union Defence Industries) he was one of the many Air Force personnel who was drafted into the Navy for a short while to train up personnel for the new fighters. He was an architect in the implementation of the HSEC (High Stress Enemy Combat) simulation, a person who was one of the testers for the No Taxes map, and the Blackhelm Naval Simulation, two computer generated simulations based upon multiple satellite images.

His life now was different, after all the high paying missions he had with the NAF HQ, he was back to the dreary life of an air strip captain. Unlike, his previous missions, however, he managed to use some prestige he acquired over his years to ensure not only did the Northfordian Government invest in some decent aircraft, but that he had a direct job overseeing them.

For Captain Floyd was, the Commander of NUAB ONE

The existances Northfordian Underground Air Bases were, almost 100%, down to him. When he got back from helping with the new simulation systems, he realised, very quickly, that in Northford there was, despite the arguments of the government, a gross shortage of fighters that could easily operate within an urban to suburban environment, on short runways, and fill multipurpose roles, such as Air Superiority Interceptor Mode.

The NUAB’s were themselves made to be as strong as bunkers, and allow the deployment of 15 planes a minute as well as the landing of 10, through the use of a series of hydraulic lifts. Despite these capabilities, however, NUAB one had not been filled yet, or used, save for 15 Lions that had been transferred from a nearby escort carrier for training purposes. Despite the cheers from crowds when a sortie of VTOL’s were launched almost simultaneously, it was clear that the bases had neither the personell or the equipment to be fully operational yet. This therefore, led Captain Floyd to have a rather dull life at the moment, waiting, it seemed, for his government to order the next load of Lion’s.

=

Reynolds woke up, slowly taking stock of the situation. Since his last moments on consciousness, his life had been transformed. Whereas once before he was a studious, athletic young man, he was now merely the core of a weapon, designed to provide the ultimate trigger for an explosion that would rewrite history.

“Is it done” he asked, his raspy, voice cracking through the lead casing that encased him.

“You are prepared”, the noise came back, it’s location unknown, only penetrating his eardrums via a thin metal diaphragm that connected a small hole in the helmet to the outside world.

He opened his eyes, trying to look around. He could see nothing. Instead of worrying, he used a finger on a touch pad to rotate himself on the gyroscopic axis that suspended his body in the room, rotating himself until his narrowed, stereoscopic vision located a person in front of him

“Sir” he groaned at the person in front of him, his immaculate Northfordian Suit only tarnished by the SECZONE insignia on his arm, “Am I fixed?”

“Fixed you are, Reynolds, Fixed you are”, said the figure in front of him, “Your Sheath has been prepared, and your own systems have been attuned to ours. As it stands now, your locomotion branches have been fully integrated into a dialysis unit and a biochemical regulation factory. It is most certain that you will succeed in your mission”

“My legs…….”

He looked down, surveying the metallic box that had taken the place of his legs, with it’s polycarbonate tubes filtering his body fluids and augumenting him with drugs, preparing him for when his own organs fail.

“…. Sir…do I get inserted into the WASP?”

“48 Hours, and counting down. Do you wish to stay alert, or shall I have you sedated until the moment you are required?”

Reynolds, encased in his lead tomb, blinked slowly, his eyes slowly forming a tear, moments before he tapped on his touch pad, triggering a flood of tranquillisers.

He would have one last moment of peace.

Capt. Floyd’s day was progressing nicely. He had enjoyed a nice breakfast, in the Civilian Refuge module of NUAB ONE, and was quietly reading the paper. He was not an imposing man, although he was nevertheless one of large proportions, being 6’3” tall, and weighing a trim 190Lbs. He was sitting in his quarters, stroking his short beard, and watching the news:

“Greetings, Northfordian. Today, in a stark announcement, the Commonwealth has brought forward the ever-postponed Space Launch, commencing tomorrow evening, it has been revealed that the Commonwealth will launch it’s first ever military satellite, which will be used for surveillance. This may come as a shock to many, as it has been believed the NAF has been operating them for many years secretly.

“Few plans of the launch have been revealed, although one official has said it will be a shocking experience

With that, Floyd put down a cup of coffee he was slowly drinking…odd.., he mused, hearing a noise behind him and turning around, looking around the the room. In the doorframe, wearing matt brown jump suits, where three men, all holding warrents.

“Captain Floyd”, one of them started, “You services are required by Northford. Would you follow us?”

Captain Floyd followed the two men, his eyes scanning their physique's. He was no weapon specialist, although it did indeed seem they we were well 'padded', that much was clear from the one inch thick collar that was extending over that of their shirt, a sure sign they were wearing battle armour.

They entered the one of the facilities main lifts, the gentleman on the right called "Deck 0", the name for the deck directly below the launching strip.

Several moments past before they ground to a halt...unusual thought Floyd, since the lifts usually only seconds.

"Captain Floyd", one of them started, "We require you to leave the base. Does that present any problems?"

Floyd paused for a moment, consider his options. In the distance, he saw a dozen of Zenith Helicopters, (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9570510&postcount=243), which, he thought was strange since not only did the air force not operate them, they would, usually, cause him to be privately notified.

"Gentlemen", he said, taking another few seconds, "I would like to know what is going on here....I don't feel happy with just leaving the base like this. I want to know who you are, and where you are taking me."

"Captain Floyd, do you watch the news?" asked one of the gentleman.

..."Umm...yes, I watched it briefly today" came the reply

"Then you may understand." returned one of the other gentleman, "There has been a situation that may require your expertise.

On that line, the a hatch on a couple of the Zeniths opened, and 10 Men, all dressed in clandestine gear, ran out, providing a human corridor for the party.

What a strange day... mused Floyd...What a very, very strange day

Relevant links: http://z14.invisionfree.com/PIW/index.php?showtopic=59 -Seminole


Northford
Water, dark and oblique, was the blot of the landscape, it’s waves rippling of the surface, creating the image of suppressed hell beneath its surface. Cutting through it was the image of a sharp knfe, slicing through the water like a blade through rotten flesh, igniting the enemies within.

The hull was that of the NNS Rosebuds, a Seminole Corvette in the Northfordian Navy. Long since retired, it was one of the oldest ships the Northfordian Navy, and save but a few, they were all sitting in shipyard reserves. What remained of the remaining few in national service, is an interesting situation. Of the remaining 5 or so ships, one ship, the Rosebud had an interesting story behind it. After decommissioning, it was acquired by the Northfordian Secret Service, and modified significantly, with the crew quarters being significantly reduced, and one of the missile blocks removed, in order to make space for a special ops station, and a large crew armament locker for use in police missions.

In this role, it had many successes, being used as a covert escort for important people through Northford, as well as a roving espionage vehicle, taking advantage of the fact that corvettes are so numerous in Northford, their presence would not make cause significant alert. The crowning glory, thus far, was the bust of the biggest corruption ring in the Northfordian Navy, removing the entire officership of a five-frigate task force in the GASN escort, which was committing heinous crimes, mainly stealing the freight of ships that it had…’rescued’. Never in it’s role did it ever get into direct combat, however, each time it capitalised on the skill of its operators, and the stealthy image it had, it’s small cross section never giving it a large shape on the radar array.

In this ship however was the cargo that was most precious to the events that are to follow, for it was carrying two people who would act as the pivotal lynchpins of the effort to relighing the globe, the hero’s in the story, the people who would undo the undoers.

Sean Philips was the first man in this coupling. 22, sleek and middles sized, his glasses and average haircut have the impression of a man who was truly at ease with his status in the upper middle class. Taking advantage of a time when the Government would give healthy grants to those joining the armed forces, he had his tuition at university paid for by the government. Joining the armed forces at a time when they were ballooning immediately after the end of isolation, a period which saw the army alone grow from 200 to 10 000 personnel, he joined the ‘Engineering and Design Regiment’, a research group that cultivated technical innovation within the Northfordian Armed forces. His post was overseeing a team of researchers, which, together, amassed dozens patents. Sean, alone, had several to his name, the most important being the ‘Exploada-Road’ a Road armed with multiple anti-personal mines, and the ‘Uni-Fuse’, a fuse used for all Guided Northfordian Arms, with 70% commonality regardless of the weapon type, from the largest ICBM and a small guided SAM.

Contrasting this was Harry Adams. He was the absolute epitome of the failures of the armed forces. After spending 20 years as a captain of a submarine in the secret Northfordian Naval Submarine, living ¾ of his life under the waves. Where his muscles in his arms bulged, his empathy decreased, and his love for life shrunk to a sliver of its former self, to merely the morbid satisfaction of seeing others in pain. He did not know why he was here tonight, sitting in a roomy cabin. He had retired two years ago, and spent his time training chickens for cock fights, letting out his sadistic tendencies in form of watching small animals in pain. He had been asked to give his services for Country and Commonwealth one more time, and, not having much else to do, he followed.

Towards the edge of the Northfordian Continental Shelf, at the end of the Rosebuds operational range, something arose in the distance…

“Captain, we are approaching the base, orders?”

On the Bridge, a sudden air of tenseness was fashioned, with men who were relaxing over their station a few moments before now peering over their RADAR’s and SONAR’s, gazing for movement.

“Captain, Sir”, came the words across the bridge, we’ve got air contact, and they are authorising our presence.

The Captain tapped on the Bluetooth earpiece he was wearing.

“All hands, we’ve got contact. Prepare for docking with the base”.

With that, the roar of jet engines overhead deafened the people on the Rosebud, causing crew members to temporarily gaze upwards, towards the wraith like structure that shook their boat, rocking their sides.

It seemed, the Rosebud was about to flower, although where the pollen would land is still, entirely, open to question

Northfordian National News

“Greetings Northfordians. Today has been an interesting day, with many things happening. In brief, the new STATeREGulated pension system is undergoing trials, a treaty being signed with the Crown Commonwealth of Praetonia, the Northfordian. Also, in the news, the Northfordian Element of the GASN Escort force has been retracted for the moment, without prior warning,, coinciding almost instantly with Rosdivan pulling out of the GASN”

“To the most interesting articles in the news today, let us first focus on the sudden exit of Rosdivan from the Global Alliance of Sovereign Nations. Rosdivan, Northford’s 5th biggest trading partner, and third biggest contributor to the GASN escort force, has long been friendly with Northford, and to us, this announcement, comes as a great shock. Despite this move, however, the Cabinet has released the following Statement

“While this move by the Sovereign states of Rosdivan is shocking, and in a sense, saddening to the Commonwealth of Northford, let it not be said we will burn our bridges with our scraps of paper. Assuming the Supreme Commonwealth allows it, we will still patrol along our trade routes, ensuring that our trade isn’t weakened piracy. Another move we will take with the Supreme Commonwealth is the suggestion of a Northford-Rosdivan relation’s board.”

“The National News will keep you informed of the development of events.”

“Leading onto to today’s other main event in foreign news, the announcement of the Praeton-Northford Relations Act, and the sudden withdrawal of Northford from the GASN escort force. As it stands, they will both be discussed in greater detail, on Tonight with Bevor Mcfonald, with him doing an in depth analysis of the effect withdrawing over 1000 ships, including the withdrawal of the Rosdivan Component, from the almost exclusively Northfordian Venture

===

Tall, dark, with hair over sleek shoulders, tapering to a point just above the waist, where firm curves accentuated her female form. Smiling, she walked over to a door, pressing buttons, the leather trousers of her civilian clothing hugging her body.

“Corporal Higgins. ID”, she called, looking at a glass like protrusion around her head area.

…beep…

“Retina ID confirmed. Good day ma’am.”

A door opened, small considering the sight of the compound she was entering, it’s heavy steel-Chromium composite taking considerable time to open. She went through, up to her quarters, changing. Constantly glancing up to a nearby CCTV camera observing her. “Damm perverts”, she thought, as she unclipped her bra, changing her underwear for something more fitting in a military installation, ensuring her C cups did not arose too much attention from her male colleges.

She strolled down a corridor and into a room. Not any room, though. In fact it was the enclosed observation room of the landing deck of Discovered Islands, an offshore Northfordian Naval Base.

“Calling Incoming Aircraft. Send security clearance” the women called, over a headset, “Security Cleared. Have a good visit”

====

Floyd’s journey today, was, by any account, a strange one. Since being shown the helicopter, and consequently entering, he had not seen land.

Also, interestingly, from his person, he was removed all time keeping devices, thus denying him the ability to keep a rough tally of miles travelled, since, without a watch, any listed speed is largely meaningless.

His… escorts were, as expected, quite silent only talking in code when needed, their modified voice giving no indication of the person behind their visors and helmets. Time, was, however, punctured for Floyd. During the seemingly endless voyage, the helicopter was refuelled twice, by air. In what was quite an interesting event, the small Helicopter was attached, via a mid air umbilical cord, to the tanker, and, for what felt like an hour, was chugged full of petrol.

As with all things, though, the journey did come to an end. Landing on a helipad on a remote island seemingly split into two through the placement of a huge Dry-dock. Arriving at night-time, however, he could not see much, especially since the presence of two, large, scanning Spotlights tracked their movement, blinding his vision.

He got off the helicopter, stepping off on to tarmac, his clothes getting splashed with spray from the wet helicopter blades.

“Sir”, came a voice from one of the escorts, “Welcome to the Discovered Islands. We need you to follow us.”

He peered behind the visor, for a split second, trying to read the man behind the mask. Nothing.

“Right this way, Sir” came the voice of another one of the escorts walking beside him.

Oh well….mused Floyd. Days like this don’t happen often, so enjoy them when they do.