NationStates Jolt Archive

Oh is our life just an illusion
There is no need to figure it out
The separation exists not in your love filled heart
But only in your mind
The real story's all around you
Even now it surrounds you
Even now I feel the power

The world exploded into love all around me

-Bob Schneider, The World Exploded Into Love

Sandy knew that when you took high explosives and wrapped it around a sphere of either plutonium or uranium (she wasn't sure which) and then detonated the high explosives, it would force the material it was wrapped around to compress tightly and go supercritical in a nuclear explosion. If you added some fancy isotopes of hydrogen to the mix you would get a bigger nuclear explosion. This is of course on some level at least, common knowledge you can find it on wikipedia, or as in Sandy's case, your brother might have told you for some reason forgotten in the rush of daily life, picking up your child from daycare in Oil City Mondoth, sitting at the red light staring at that damned new building. Built by some subsidiary of the Draco Conglomerate that was everywhere these days. It was the tallest building in Oil City now, and it was damned ugly.
Whatever reason Sandy's brother had had for telling her what caused a nuclear explosion, that knowledge was about to become very viscerally real to his sister.

Inside the new Draco Conglomerate Building
The building was empty. It had finished construction that very morning, and by noon all the workers who had helped complete the structure were on an exorbitant vacation cruise paid for by the Draco Conglomerate.
Deep below the surface, on the lowest level, a large, night black cone was dollied into the elevator. The man who did this hit the button for the highest floor and then stepped out of the elevator, quickly making his way to the metro station in the bottom of the building. Climbing into the train waiting there for him, he hit the start button. The doors rolled shut and the train utterly failed to move. The realization of his betrayal was just dawning on the poor flunky when he perceived a brilliant light coming from above, shining through the think concrete ceiling, followed by a wave of flame.


The light finally turned green, it seemed like it had been red for ages, but maybe it was just that damned ugly buildin-
As fast as her musculo-nervous system allowed, Sandy's arm was in front of her eyes, shielding against the brilliance that had suddenly sprung from the tower. It did no good and the last thing she saw was the bones in her hand being burned into her retinas for the brief instant before the heat overwhelmed her eyes. They popped sickeningly, dribbling gore down her cheeks like tears and shooting convulsive pain deep into her brain like twin lances driving themselves into her skull while the heat evaporated the rivulets of ichor that remained of Sandy's eyes.

Everything within 5 kilometers of the detonation was incinerated, nothing left but a plate glass crater. 7 kilometers passed that, the city seemed to have imploded as the blast front ripped everything apart and then pulled it back vomiting into the crater, piling rubble and burnt bodies around the edges in a bilious orgy of destruction that would have sickened even the most disturbed of psychopaths.

Undisclosed location

"Mr. Drace, the bomb test was successful, Oil City is gutted and the remaining weapons are being transported to the oil fields. It seems Dr. Sahib was as good as he says he is."

"So it would... Let me ask you a question."

"Of course sir."

"How do you feel about all this? The test being in the middle of a city?"

"Sir, Oil City was a pit of darkness and despair, it needed to be cleansed of its pimps and pushers and thieves and rapists."

"And that’s why it was chosen, but what about the innocent lives lost?"

"There were even innocents in Hiroshima and Nagasaki sir. I'm sure there were even innocents in Seryav* when it was burned to the ground."

"I'm glad you feel that way Mr. Al Taqki*, I can see this will be a fruitful relationship for both of us."

OOC:
*Seryav: A Town in Naveira that was napalmed when it was discovered to be sheltering a separatist leader and most of his force.
*AL Taqki: Mondoth's Minister of Intelligence
Welcome to the long time in coming Mondothian Revolution. The sides are unknown and shadowy but so far we know that James Stanwin (Current prime minister, out of the country) Is on one side and some alliance between Williams Drace, industrialist and Ahmed Al Taqki, Minister of Intelligence sit on the other. Their Goals are unclear and their means both overt and covert. So join in however you want (Characters and Nations all welcome!) and prepare for a messy ride (and hopefully a fun one) I'm open to almost any plot twist you want so PM me (Or get me on AIM from my profile) with any ideas in that regard.
Ha, 1200 and some odd words and Jolt crashes when I try to post it. Lucky it was saved.

~ Isola Dorata: what was once an uncultivated island stumbled upon by wonderful misfortune had now become the homeland of the New Holy Imperial Republic of Nueve Italia. Its cities rose high and spread far, its forests and lakes were lush and full of life and color, and its people, though still shaken, depressed, and shattered from the Nueve-Bandurian War, were rebuilding slowly back into normalcy. Already, Nueve Italia's industrial might was skyrocketing upwards and its citizens were as loyal as ever. For the country that had known only war and ruin, the prospect of peace was starting to shine brightly. . .
_____

Cítta Santo, Nueve Italia; The Emperor's Palace

Antonio Orsini Gori was taking a stroll along the wide corridors of the heart of the government in the country he helped restore, clearing his mind of troubles and worries. Though young, Antonio was a capable leader, and the people elected him unanimously as soon as possible. He had led military forces up until his election, and his astute sense for strategy in war quickly passed on to strategy in politics and government. The people loved him, there was just no denying it.

As for his personal life, Antonio found out that his wife, Catalina Ortega diGori, was blessed with child, and the father could not be more overjoyed upon learning of the news. In a sense, life was picking up from where it left off, or at least trying to.

The young Emperor was still haunted by dreams in the dark; He saw his father being murdered again and again by the traitorous Senator Ignatius Lucchesse, he remembered seeing the Bandurian weapons touch the surface of Isola di Argenta, wiping out the land of Nueve Italia itself, and he remembered his people's desperate flight for freedom and peace from its aggressors. When the forces from Banduria had finally called off the hunt, the people had thought that it was only one of their antagonists gone, but in truth, things were starting to look up.

An aide came jogging down the halls, the sound of his footsteps resonating throughout the rather empty building. Antonio approached him and questioned where he was going to.

" To you, Sir," the man replied with a bit of panting in his words. He wasn't overweight, but then again he wasn't particularly fit either. It didn't bother Antonio, but in the back of his mind he began to think that he should at least try and keep his aides and staff in good shape, at least for their own health.

The aide produced a letter from inside his coat pocket and handed it to the Emperor, although it seemed reluctantly, for Antonio had to tug the paper from the man's gloved hands. Unfolding the note, the former fighter-pilot's eyes scrutinized it with no haste necessary. As he read, however, Antonio began to furrow his eyebrows, a sign of worry that he normally made upon hearing news that caused him duress.

He thanked the aide for the message and dismissed him. Within minutes, he was in the war room. . .
_____

Below the Palace, Nueve Italian Battle Command (NIBC)

" We don't know if this is a terrorist action, or even-"

" It doesn't matter, it demands immediate resp-!"

" And what if it was just an accident and we act against a false attac-"

" Silence!"

Antonio's voice rang out through the air as if a blade, cutting all other noise down where it stood. Inside NIBC, top generals, diplomats, and war leaders were debating about the Mondothian situation. Some thought that military action was needed to force whoever committed the atrocity out of hiding, whilst others thought that perhaps it was merely a malfunctioning nuclear power plant.

" Did the Mondothian government respond yet?" queried the Emperor.

" No Sir, no response has been noted. .. yet"

" Then we wait. Although I think I have a solution. .. just give me a few hours to summon him here."~

<resevred for post, incidently, whereabouts is Mondoth geographically located?>

OOC: We're located int he region: The Nine (controlled by me and some friends who have been rather scarce lately) Which is nominally in the North Pacific area/its NS analogue.
IC:
This is an Emergency Broadcast
Please Stand By for a message from Prime Minister Stanwin
*The emergency Broadcast screen is replaced by the press room on Mondoth Air Flight 1 (The Prime Ministers Personal Aircraft)*

Yesterday, Mondoth witnessed a tragedy the like of which has not been seen in a long time. Our nation was attacked in a brutal fashion by an unknown agency wielding nuclear arms. We do not yet know who was behind this cowardly and disgusting attack, but we do know that when they are found, we will strike with the very fury of Allah himself in bringing these terrorists to justice. For now however, we must focus on helping those affected by the attack, Oil City has been gutted true, but there are many survivors who need homes, clothes and protection during these trying times and I beg that you, the people of Mondoth open your arms to those unhomed by this brutal act. Thank you for your understanding in this troubled time.

This has been an Emergency Broadcast by the Mondothian Government.

Secure Teleconference between Prime Minister Stanwin and the Heads of the Internal Ministries
Stanwin:"Gentlemen, what do we have, give me some good news here."

Emergency Response Agency Chair ʼAbū Bakr: We've been lucky so far, the winds are reversed form normal so we're looking at the fallout cloud blowing north and east pretty sharply, its over empty desert now and should miss Gebua and Port of Triumph, but this is abnormal weather, the cloud could start west any day now and we need to be prepared."

Stanwin: "What needs to be done? And can your agency do it?"

Bakr: "We need to establish short-term fallout shelters along the possible routes and set up a fallout watch to keep track of the cloud. Right now, the Weather service can keep track of the cloud and already has the infrastructure in place to keep people informed, but the agency doesn't have the man power to be managing the Oil City catastrophe area and cities along the potential paths of the fallout cloud.
Minister of Defense Winslow York: "If I may sir, we're recalling military units across the board for safety reasons, we could easily set up to manage the potentially affected areas and establish fallout shelters in case the wind turns."
Stanwin: "Excellent, when this meeting is done, you and Bakr get together and set up a plan. DO we know where the bomb came from yet? Nasir! Speak up."
Minister of Energy, Atomic Energy adviser Nasir: "Sir... the samples from the fallout and the areas around the detonation have come back, its a pretty clean signature, the bomb was well made and had little contaminants so we can say where the material came from with a high degree of certainty..."
Stanwin: "Where then?"
Nasir: "Sir, the material shows every sign of having come from the Oil City Fast Breeder reactor. Sir, the bomb was one of ours, It's got Dr. Sahib's signature all over it."
Minister of the Strategic Command Edward: "Sir, we aren't missing a weapon, we pulled a check immediately after the news came in and all of them are accounted for."
Stanwin: "Nasir, could the signature have been faked?"
Nasir: "Sir, technically the material's signature could have been faked, we kept the Oil City reactor's signature close so it would have been unlikely, but possible."
Stanwin: "I hear a but in there, out with it."
Nasir: "Sir, the reactors signature could have been faked, but I'm looking at this data here and the fusion elements are pure Sahib, We've got images of the detonation from satellite and it matches the test footage of our M-173 weapon flawlessly. Either one of our bombs was stolen, or whoever kidnapped Dr. Sahib, also got a bunch of Material from the Oil City reactor and some very high grade equipment thats on just about every 'watch list' out there."
Stanwin: "Gentlemen, find me where that bomb came from, if it was one ours I want to know, if someone built one that looked like one of our, I want to know, If the bomb was deposited by aliens from outer space I want to know dammit."

Oil City, Recovery team
The teams geiger counter was going wild, they knew they only had a few minutes left before they would receive dangerous dosages of radiation, but Blitzer, the teams rescue dog was going crazy, some one was nearby.
"Check that car, there may be someone still in there!"

"Chief, we're getting to many REMs out here, nobody could be - F*CK DAMNIT!" The man screamed as a bloody hand pawed the window of the indicated car.
"Somebody's alive in there! Hurry up, we don't have much more time!"
One of the rescuers ran up to the car and jammed a hydraulic door jack into the gap between the car door and its frame, turning the device on resulted in a tremendous pounding roar as the jack started pulling in air and compressing it with a mini-turbine, using the pressure to force its mandibles apart until the door crumpled and fell free.
"Ma'am, you're going to be okay, come with me, we have to hurry, there's a lot of radiation in the area!"

The woman gasped, "Who's there! Why can't I see? what happened!? "Why is everything so dark?" SHe turned towards the rescuers, causing one of them to immediately vomit at the sight of the blackened, burned holes that used to be eyes. Two of the men with stronger stomachs reached out and pulled the woman out of her car.
"Ma'am, your going to be fine, just grab my hand and follow my voice, everythign is going to be okay."

OOC: running commentary time!
I'll be trying to keep a little running commentary after my posts so late comers can keep up without reading too much and to keep things unified between what may turn into a multi-thread extravaganza.
If you didn't know, Dr. Sahib was kidnapped (Secretly by Williams Drace Company, the Draco Conglomerate, but no one knows that yet) in this thread here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=505325).
Coincidentally, the Draco Conglomerate manages the Oil City Fast Breeder reactor.
Tune in Tomorrow, when at least one persons motives will be revealed!

~ Cristiano Ceri was, to say the least, a jack-of-all-trades. A diplomat, fighter pilot, and with a Master's degree in political science and a diploma from Porto Santo Law School, Cristiano was accomplished in matters of government policy. He knew both war and peace, and was persuasive in most of his arguments. He joined the Nueve Italian Royal Air Force (when such a thing still existed) to help pay for college at Academia Ineffio and joined ROTC while taking his classes. He fought in the Great Southern Insurrection, the Nueve-Bandurian war, and several other conflicts that the Holy Imperial Republic had dabbled in. For his service in the Nueve-Bandurian war, Cristiano was promoted to the rank of Captain and led his own branch of the 104th Tactical Fighter Squadron, the same that Antonio Gori had flown for.

When he was not engaged in combat, Cristiano was a military lawyer for the NIRAF and also a trusted diplomat of the new Emperor Gori, whom he had flown with several times. When tricky situations called for unlikely solutions, Antonio usually called upon his former wingman for the job, just like he did now. . .
_____

Nueve Italian Battle Command

Ceri, as he was simply called by most, had arrived in an Imperial escort at the Palace and was instructed to head immediately to NIBC for an update on the situation. He had already been given a document outlining what was known and not known about the Mondoth crisis including the broadcast made by Prime Minister Stanwin. Not wanting to worry his good friend, he hastened his pace until he strode through the doors of the nerve center of Nueve Italia. Antonio was the first to spot him.

" Ceri, glad you could make it so quick," he nodded quickly and offered his hand as part of his warm greeting.

" Heh, you're just lucky you caught me while I was still at base," Ceri joked as he took the palm of the Emperor. Both were not trying to get to the situation at hand quickly, for as old comrades and war buddies, they had a bit of catching up to do. Alas, as the world is, there was no time for such idle chatter. Nations were in chaos, people were dying, and something needed to be done about it.

" So, I've read about the problem, but I don't see what you would need me to do about it," Cristiano cut right to the chase.

" We need you," the Emperor explained, " to be our diplomat to Mondoth right now. We would normally send just anyone, but right now, we aren't sure about the political situation in the country. It is unknown if the attack was a terrorist action or an accident, or whatever, but for the time being, we're treating it like an attack, just to be safe and prepared for a worst case scenario. Because of this, I'm not sure how safe Mondoth is going to be. We needed someone who wouldn't faint at the first sign of bloodshed, and, God willing, there won't be any. With all luck and grace, this should just be a personal check-up, so to say."

Ceri pondered the idea for a moment before replying, " So I'm just going to see if the Mondothian government is ok?"

Antonio nodded once. " In a sense, yes. However, I also have a private assignment for you. You are to protect prime minister Stanwin in your entire stay at Mondoth. I want you by his side at all times, and then I want you to report back any suspicious activity by any persons around him at any time. Capisce?"

" Capisco, signore. So basically, I'm going to be a spy?"

Antonio Orsini Gori let out a soft chuckle at the idea. " No, not really. Well. . . in a sense, yes, but the main goal of me sending you there is to find out what's really going on. I don't know how quickly the Mondothian government is going to be able to release information and if we need to intervene to save the country and government, I want to be able to do it pronto."

Cristiano saluted, going back to his soldier days of recieving orders. " Got it: protect prime minister Stanwin, gather intelligence, and if any plot against Mondoth or its government is discovered, immediately alert you. Piece of tiramisu."

" Glad you see it that way," the Emperor chortled at Ceri's eagerness to be back in the field. " We're contacting the Mondothian Government now to see if this mission is approved. When, or if, it is, I'll alert you. A transport is already standing by."
_____

Establishing Connection; Standby. . .
. . . Done
Begin message:

To Prime Minister James Stanwin,

Greetings from the Holy Imperial Republic of Nueve Italia. It has been some time since our countries had the fortune of crossing eachother's paths: I only regret that last time we met under such dire circumstances. It seems that trouble only follows our meetings.

We have detected a nuclear explosion in Oil City in your nation, and have already heard your emergency broadcast to your people. To further diplomatic ties and speak of sending aid in any form, we would hope that you recognize ambassador Cristiano Ceri of Nueve Italia on Mondothian soil. He is acting under my orders to reestablish ties with your great country and to provide whatever insight and assistance he can in such horrible times. If you would have me send him, please, contact me whenever you deem fit. We of Nueve Italia wish your people a speedy recovery from this travesty, and our best wishes and hopes are with them. Godspeed.

Emperor of the Holy Imperial Republic

Antonio Orsini Gori
_____
~

Reply to Emperor Antonio Orsini Gori

I could wish that the re-establishment of relations between our nation could stem from something less terrible, but such a wish would be worthless now. I will of course recognize your ambassador, and I'll greet him with open arms myself when the finally let me get out of this damned plane. Safety measures and all I've been in this thing for too long, it'll be tomorrow morning before I get to land, perhaps your man can meet me at the airport? I only wish it could be during happier times.

Prime Minister James Stanwin.

bump for more replies before I put up more story...

arrgh, Bump tastic
I was going to write something, but it'll have to wait till tomorrow, Now post fools!:)

Jonensberg, Kulikovia

Prime Minister Gregor Dantes sat at his desk, reviewing a new bill that is to be sent through the Chamber of Deputies later in the week. It was a routine bill, concerning labor. It was late in the day when the door bursted open. An older man, in his sixties paced quickly into the office. It was Alexsandr Yukolov chief of the Ministry of Foreeign Affairs..
"Sorry to disturb you Prime Minister, but a serious emergency has just happened" he said in a nervous voice. "A nuclear device was triggered in Oil City, Mondoth"
"My God Alexsandr..." Dantes replied, dropping the bill. It was horrific news. "How many dead?"
"We don't know" Yukolov wiped his brow. It was all over the news, however; the Ministry of Foreign Affairs knew it before the media did. "The situation is bad, sir"

Dantes stood up and paced to the window, deep in thought. This could be a catastrophy. Terrorists? Foreign attack? Domestic? A million what ifs ran through his mind.
"Contact Grand Marshall Malakoff, I want the military on high alert. Get a hold of Director Janovich of the Foreign Security Bureau. I'm sure they're already investigating this incident, just put more pressure on them." Dantes ordered.
"Send a message to Prime Minister Stanwin as well. I'll assemble the cabinet" he added.

To: Prime Minister Stanwin
From: Prime Minister Dantes

We give our dearest condolences on this tragedy. This cowardly act by some unknown person or persons will not go unpunished. I pledge the full support of our Intelligence services and military in the capture of those responsible. In the mean time, we will be more than glad to assist with medical supplies, rations, temporary housing for the displaced and other essentials. If there is anything more that we can do, please inform us.

OOC: Sorry, WWT got in the way, there will be a plot advancing post tomorrrow for sure.

IC:

To: Prime Minister Dantes
From: Prime Minister Stanwin

We accept any aid you can offer gratefully, we are sorely under-equipped for this tragedy and any help you can offer is needed.
Thank you

OOC: Goddamnit! I just wrote up a huge post and it got deleted! Don't have time to retype it, but it a nutshell, it said the Cristiano Ceri's flight towards Mondoth has just taken off and the gov. of Mondoth has been notified. It also detailed that Ceri is equipped with items to communicate back to Nueve Italia and also a few 007-esque gadgets just in case. Sorry bout no IC post, gotta run

OOC: Same thing almost happened to my initial post, you can usually go Back in the browser and recover it.
IC:

Events conspired (and maybe more than just events) to land Prime Minister Stanwin an hour ahead of the Nueve Italian Ambassador. At the gate he was greeted by a small complement of Marines while many more were swarming all over the airport, waving guns at things and shouting a lot, for security purposes.

The Prime Minister was whisked out of the airport by his personal guards and the Marines. The well-armed party met about a dozen mirrors in the lobby, right down to James Stanwin look-a-likes. The guards then escorted their James Stanwin outside to a waiting phalanx of Tanks, the last Army unit in Mondoth, the rest having been absorbed by the Marines years ago.
The 12th Armored Brigade "Last Tanks" had the very specific task of looking pretty and defending the Prime Minister while he was in the capital, and so it was their job to take James Stanwin and his 'twins' to the Prime Ministry building.


Temporary Hospice, near the remains of Oil City

"Ma'am, can you tell me your name? I need to know you're name."

"Sa-Sandy..."

"Sandy? Is that short for Sandra? I need to know your full name so I can get your medical records, You're going to be okay, but I need your medical records."

"K-K-Cassandra... Cassandra Troiy"

"Well Cassandra Troy, you're going to be all right, your in a hospital now and we're going to take good care of you."

"I-I can't see, why can't I see, is there something wrong with my eyes?"

"Ma'am, this is very dificult to say but... your eyes, well, your eyes were damaged, medical science can do a lot these days and you might get your sight back, but I won't lie to you, you'll probably be blind for life."

She started crying, Dr. Dennis Davies was not disturbed easily, but sight of the woman with burned holes for eyes crying was an image that would remain with him for the rest of his life. He called a nurse over to calm her down and quickly walked to the next patient, trying to forget the horrible things he'd seen since the bomb attack.


Meanwhile
Dr. Sahib woke up grimacing, the drug left him groggy and with a nasty head-ache, but the feeling quickly passed and he casually flipped on the T.V.

News Brief

In the continuing Oil City Crisis, aid is pouring in from international sources as well as domestic, Nueve Italia, Kulikovia, as well as prominent members of the GDI have promised aid, while domestically, Williams Drace, owner of the multi-national Draco Conglomerate has promised nearly a billion dollars of his personal fortune and a further 2 billion of his companies money to aiding the victims of the attack, including configuring several factories to produce Dosimeters for recovery crews and temporary housing for the displaced as well as aid volunteers.
The fallout loud from the detonation continues to blow north and east away from major population centers, with any luck it will be out over the ocean tomorrow afternoon where the airforce plans on using large Fuel Air Explosives to forcibly dissipate the cloud before it reaches international waters to limit ecological impact.


With in seconds he was on the phone.

"Mr. Stanwin, this is Dr. Sahib, as you are probably aware I was recently kidnapped, well, I just got back and turned on the news... I've been back for like five minutes, just now. Yessir. Well, I built that bomb not weeks ago, and there are at least twenty six just like it out there... I'll be at my home."

Dr. Sahib sat back and cursed, waiting to be picked up and taken to the capital.


Finally, at the Prime Ministry Building

Prime Minister Stanwin was escorted to his office, where, inexplicably, the guards stopped, motioning for him to enter the room.

Pulling open the door, he was greeted by a dark room, which clicked, revealing Ahmed Bin Taqki sitting at the desk fingers meshed in front of him.

"Jim, we've been friends for years now, more than that, since before you took me on as chief of intelligence. And as A friend, I have to tell you, this can't continue..." Bin Taqki wheeled his wheel chair around the desk, closer to the stunned Prime Minister
"If you resign now, the cabinet will take over this crisis, you can go home, be with your family and when it's over we'll hold an election, get some new blood in here. You've been in charge to long, and as much as I like you, and your politics, too long with out change is bad. Just look at Naveira Jim, they were free once, we gave them a part of our country, and now they've crawled back, only to face revolution again and again, spilling their violence into Mondoth proper. Your policies worked once, there was peace for a while, but there hasn't been peace in Naveira for years now, and nothing is being done, you've spent more resources finding Al Din over in Valgoth than you have seeing to the welfare of the people he oppressed. I'm sorry Jim, but please resign, I don't want to have to be your enemy."

"Ahmed, I appreciate your honesty, but I think we're past you not wanting to be my enemy, and I think you know it. Get the hell out of my office and do your job, You've been the best Minister of Intel I could wish for, and I don't want to lose you, not now."

"If that's the way you feel Jim, I'm gone, but don't think this isn't going to get worse, this situation has been tea-kettling for generations now, and the Naveiran situation is about to explode again, perhaps for the last time, I hope you see that."

"You let me worry about whether I see it or not."

Mondothian Airport, Ceri's Plane

~ The wheels of the twin-engine jet gradually closed distance to the ground, touching the asphalt just hard enough to give a slight push to anyone in the cabin. The pilots turned down the throttle to empty and engaged the wheel locks as Cristiano made ready to exit the plane. Grabbing his reddish-leather briefcase, he unbuckled himself and stood as the jet finally came to a stop. The airport at which the Nueve Italian aircraft had landed was bustling with activity: soldiers, ground crews, carts zipping back and forth, fighter jets circling overhead, it was madness. It had taken Ceri’s own plane a little over an hour just to get clearance to land.

Due to security problems, Cristiano was not allowed to depart from his transport right into the airport, and had to instead leave his plane and walk right onto the runway. He stepped out into the sunlight, and winced as the harsh rays struck him in the face. In response, he removed a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket and put them on. However, these glasses were part of the equipment he received from the Nueve Italian Secret Service (NISS): they could engage three different viewing modes besides just posing as shades: they had night-vision, thermo-vision, and infrared as well. Right now though, Ceri just didn’t want to be blinded, and the sunglasses were functioning quite well at that task. Smoothing out his black, pinstripe suit, he walked across the pavement, trying to spy someone who could help him, but it seemed that everyone was too concerned with what they were doing to pay attention to him. Looking out towards the rest of the country, Cristiano saw the smoke still rising from ground zero. Far away as it was, the scar was obviously still apparent.

Finally, Ceri saw someone who didn’t look like one of the regulars or a part of the crew at the airport. He approached him, calling out as he moved.

“ Excuse me!” he shouted as he jogged up to the man and offered out his right hand, switching his briefcase to the left. “ Cristiano Ceri, I’m the representative from Nueve Italia. Do you have any idea where I’m supposed to go?”~

"Mr... Ceri, wait just a second please?" The man pulled out his networked PDA and started clicking around rapidly with the stylus. "Ah, Mr. Ceri I'm sorry for the confusion, you've been cleared into the main terminal, if you want I can call a vehicle to take you straight there, sorry for the mistake, things are pretty frantic right now you understand of course."

Meanwhile, secure phone conversation between Williams Drace and Governor-General of the Naveiran Province Sharif Al Kazahn

"I just got off with Al Taqki, James isn't going to cooperate."

"It's alright Bill, that what yo wanted my cooperation for anyway."

"Then you'll do it?"

"I've been waiting a long time for this, now if you'll excuse me, me and 2,000 marines and who knows how many irregulars have an appointment in Mondoth City to prepare for."

"In that case general, I won't keep you any longer."

Temporary Hospice, near the remains of Oil City
"Dr. Hallamawn? I'm glad you could make it, as we discussed over the phone, I have a very interesting case..."

"I believe you mentioned a young woman-"

"Yes, Cassandra Troiy, apparently a victim of the... attack, except, well you're the expert, I'll let you see for yourself. Right through here." Dr. Davies turned and opened the temporary partition that separated his patient from the hall of the hospice.

"Sandy... I've brought a visitor-"
Sandy cut him off, quietly, her voice a coarse whisper-
"Dr. Jessica Hallamawn, an expert on radiological damage, you've come about my eyes."
Dr. Hallamawn was taken aback. "I see Dr. Davies told you about me?"
to which Dr. Davies responded shakily. "No... I didn't..."
Dr. Hallamawn ignored him, getting down to why she was here.
"So, how many Rems did she get? "
"That's the thing, we can't tell, judging by where she was found, she should have received fatal dosage, her clothes were saturated, but as you can see, she's still alive, the only damage she seems to have received is her eyes."

"You mean, the bomb caused that damage to her eyes?"
"As far as we can tell, she said she was looking towards downtown whent he bomb went off, she could see then. Also, the burn damage evident around the eyes seems more evident of radiative damage than anything else, when she came in, she had low intensity radiation burns over her upper torso, again indicative of exposure to radiation, as from a nuclear detonation."

"To be honest Mr. Davies, I'm not entirely sure why you've called me here, I'm an expert on people who have received near fatal levels of radiation, mostly from reactor accidents, This girl seems to have received very little radiation from a nuclear bomb, this is outside my expertise, if you blood works and tissue samples then I can take a look at them, but other than that I'm outside my level of expertise, I'm as confused as you are."

"Thank you anyway, I'll get the samples you want I suppose, sorry for wasting your time by bringing you out here."

"Not at all, I was called to deal with the other victims, unfortunately, most of my patients are already dead."

"I'm sorry."

Tom Carville was a regular Mondothan man. Mid-fifties, a little heavier than he'd like, but prosperous. He was a minor landlord, and was only too happy to rent a small house to the young man in front of him.

"I'll be here for four months, just till the semester ends." the young man lied innocently. "There's a group of us on an exchange with the university in town.”

Tom smiled indulgently, “Ha, getting around and seeing the world, eh? Damn good thing for a young man. You say there’s six of you in this program, then, Fred?”

The exchange of pleasantries neither man really cared about went on a bit longer. It ended with "Fred" holding the keys to his groups base of operations. Tal Hiv was pleased all had gone smoothly. His compatriots would be filtering in over the next few days.

Violent crime was rather rare in Mahria… the violent criminals kept it that way. Most seriously illegal activities were under the control of the Gulls-a powerful crime syndicate. A request from an anonymous allied group in Mondoth had brought in Rek and five of his compatriots.

Hiv and his coworkers enforced the Gulls strict order. They served with the "Peacekeepers," the grandiose name the Gulls gave to those who stopped other criminal organizations. (Terminally stopped, in most cases.) Today in Mondoth, the Peacekeepers had some violence to commit.

OOC: Sorry for the delay. My Flash drive with the next post on it was accidently left in a place that I won't be able to get to until *hopefully* tomorrow morning so you'll just have to wait another day. I'll try and have it up tomorrow afternoon.

Since you left me I'm so alone,
Now you're coming, you're coming home,
I'll be good like I know I should,
You're coming home, you're coming home.

Ev'ry night the tears come down from my eyes,
Ev'ry day I've done nothing but cry.
It won't be long yeh, yeh.
The Beatles, 'It Won't Be Long'

Temporary Hospice, near the remains of Oil City
"Dr. Davies, have you heard the latest news out of the Capital?"

"No Sandy, I haven't. Would you like me to get a radio or something so you can get it?"

"No Dr. its won't be on the radio yet, its a Coup."

"Why wouldn't it be on the radio, that seems exactly like something that would be on the radio right away"

"It hasn't happened yet."

The Naveiran-Mondoth border

Even though Naveira was technically a Mondothian province, it had never quite stepped out of that time in Mondoth's past where the nation was ruled by bickering, warring factions. It had been independent multiple times in the past but always came back to Mondoth. Due to the history of insurgency against Mondoth, the border was constantly patrolled by the Military. In fact, a special Command Theater had been established for the job, and the last time Naveira had gone independent the theater hadn't even been absorbed back to the units that had spawned it originally.

The Theater was commanded, in a colossal mistake that was only just about to be noticed, by the Governor General of Naveira. The Governor general acted much like the governor of any colony, instituting the will of Mondoth and controlling Mondoth's military presence. While it had never happened in Mondoth's largely Anti-Imperialist history, many times those Colonial Governors 'Went Native' and the military under their command often went with them. In this case, A 'gone native' Governor-General meant that sitting on top of a powder keg of rebellion and insurgency was one of Mondoth's most experienced generals, wielding an entire theater worth of troops that had seen more combat than most of Mondoth's other Army Groups put together, not too mention the irregular insurgent army such a Governor-General could command.
But Mondoth had never had this problem, Imperialist nations had safeguards against it but no such thing existed in Mondoth Controlled Naveira.

Over the years, replacement equipment had been ordered and delivered for units that hadn't been broken. Weapons and uniforms had been ordered and delivered for a native defense force that was half the size as had been reported. Governor-Genera Sharif Al Kazahn had gone native in a big way. And, being the General of the only Mondothian military forces considered necessary for the region, when his army, now twice the size of the army on Mondothian payrolls, crossed the Naveiran border one night, all the sattelite imagery of the event was sent directly to him and his analysts

nearly 200,000 crack troops and well equipped irregulars and they were nearly in Mondoth City before anyone with the power could anything about it even knew it was happening, and by then it was too late.

ooc: The only land border with Mondoth is the Naveiran one. Not a problem just to avoid confusion later.

OOC: sorry for no post in awhile, busy

~ Ceri had entered the airport, and, due to his diplomatic status, had been able to skip by most of the formal searches. He was now waiting inside the terminal for someone to come by and, he guessed, pick him up. He wasn't sure who, but all he could do was wait. With quiet optimism that he would reach the Prime Minister before something went horribly wrong, Cristiano sat on a bench at the entrance to the airport, awaiting something, anything.~

OOC: Sorry for short IC post but don't really know what to do for moment. . .

OOC: Fluid time! until otherwise stated, we are now experiencing events prior to the Naveiran attack.

IC:

in back rooms and security offices quiet conversations were being had over what exactly to do with the Nueve Italian ambassador. Finally a call came from the Prime Ministry and a pair of Marines were dispatched to the Diplomat waiting area. The Marines were imposing, in full Combat Uniform, toned to match the color of the walls. The superior of the two, a Gunnery Sargent spoke.
"Mr. Ceri, I apologize for the wait, If you'll follow me theres a car waiting outside to take you to the Prime Minister."

~ Cristiano eyed the two soldiers suspiciously for a second, and then consented to go with them.

If fully armored guards are needed just to get me around, things have got to be bad here. . ..

Stepping out of the airport, one of the soldiers, the superior who had talked to him, opened the door to a sleek, black car for Ceri. He hopped in, the door was closed, and the vehicle sped off. . .~

The Mahrian Gull crime syndicate had contacts throughout world, giving them a (justified) reputation for being able to get ahold of almost anything. Among their payrolls were corrupt officers in several militaries, particularily in poorer countries.

This includes Naveira. When the six Peacekeepers were still meeting up, two Gull operatives had entered Naveira. For some odd reason, several promised deliveries had come late or not at all. The Gulls tend to be impatient when that occurs.

The Naveiran supply officer was thoroughly afraid. He'd thought that his relationship with his anonymous paymasters would be relatively simple-he'd have to divert a small quantity of this and that, only when the chance came. And in exchange, he'd be paid a nice bonus. He hadn't planned to include these two scarred, massive, unsympathetic individuals in the deal. Certainly not to have them break into his house and wait for him with hard questions.

"Now, my friend, we had an arrangement," said the leader in a tired, irritated tone. "We don't want missed shipments to become habitual, do we?"

"No," squeaked the Naveiran. "But I can explain-we've had almost nothing lately around here. My commanders have told me they're ordered to keep it all quiet. High up, even. The orders, that is. The things I've promised you have never come to this base, I swear it. I think that they're needed somewhere else." The last phrase was a quiet admission.

The lead Mahrian was intrigued. "Is that so? Then it's out of your control, hmm?" Pathetically eager, the officer nodded. "Now what makes you say that-about the goods being needed." He could tell he'd have to send this information back to his own superiors-it sounded like the situation was about to become unstable.

OOC: waiting for Mondoth to post, don't really know where the car is going, if the driver has any "ill" intentions, etc.

OOC: Sorry for wait, Turkey Day and all.
IC:

The car took off and promptly started following side streets and alleys while the higher ranking Marine Briefed Ceri on the situation.

"I apologize for the suddenness of all this but as you can see things are bad and getting worse. We've been getting weird intel reports from Naveira, never a good sign. We've had at least one operative disappear, and there's been rumors of as many as three missing. That by the way you never heard, especially not from me. The Operatives were one of Stanwin's pet projects and its darkest black if you catch my drift. Anyway, Jim's getting mighty paranoid about this business. All our tests say the bomb came from our arsenal but none of our bombs are missing. We even had some guy go in and count the damn things by hand. There's only what, twenty four of them? but still they're scattered and we don't even have protocols for letting anybody physically see them, its all automatic. Anyway this poor fella spent two days hopping around the country squeezing into these tight little holes to make sure the things int he silos were really five megaton nuclear devices. Its crazy.
Anyway, Jim has been moved to a secure command facility, we established a bunch of these things after the last Naveiran uprising crippled our intelligence center, scattered and hardened and redundant. Any questions? You have about fifteen minutes before we get there."

~ Cristiano took all this information into account and simply shook his head.

" No, no questions. I was pretty well briefed before coming here, and you've cleared up any other problems."

Black operatives missing? Usual, definately, but near the same time that a nuclear explosion goes off? Odd. . . Perhaps they're related somehow, but it's too soon to be sure of anything. . .

Just as Ceri finished his thoughts, the car started to slow, and finally, come to a stop.

" Well," the diplomat surmised, " I take it we've arrived?"~

"Indeed, if you'll follow me please."
The vehicle was parked in an alley of some ware-house district, with a few freight containers scattered around for effect. Only a highly observant person who knew what to look for would spot the entrance. with so many real doors scattered about the alley, into various warehouses, even the freight containers. Instead the marine walked up to a blank, corrugated steel wall, patched with old and new steel sheets. Banging on one of the older, rustier sheets caused it to roll aside on concealed slides, revealing what appeared to be an elevator.

"C'mon they're waiting for us."

~ As soon as he stepped out of the vehicle, Ceri's senses began to scout out the area: possible escape routes and battle strategies if this was a trap, anyway that hidden cameras or sound bugs could be hidden by an opposing force to see his entrance to the area, and so on. He also was a little hesitant about entering the elevator: this was the perfect set-up for a trap, but then again, it would also be the last place anyone would expect a Prime Minister to be hiding.

In his coat pocket, he carried a Beretta 92FS, just in case, but now, he hoped that he didn't have to use it. Besides, it wouldn't save him: if the marines were not who the claimed to be, they were still in full body armor: the 9mm bullets wouldn't harm them at all. Cristiano checked his watch, seemingly looking at the time, but actually the watch doubled as several other unique devices, the most important at the time being a GPS tracker with a detailed map on the display. Unfortunately, some sort of electronic interference in the area rendered the tracking system ineffective, making it so Ceri couldn't even find out where he was.

With no other choice but to trust the marine's word, Ceri nodded to him.

" Yes, let's go. I'd rather not test the patience of mister Stanwin."

With that, he stepped into the hidden elevator. . .~

'Revolution is a cornerstone of change'
-Previous Red Dawn International corporate slogan

Another day, another armed conflict, another dollar...

Or in their case, another million or so dollars...

Mercenary work was highly profitable these days, with the constant inter-regional warfare, revolutions underway, and various rebel factions in need of military-grade hardware. The employment office at Red Dawn International was always a buzzing hive of activity, if buzzing hives came outfitted with telephones and wireless Internet-capable computers. Like they had done so many other times, one of the operators sent a rather nondescript email to the Mondothian government. Company policy dictated that they always attempt to contact the established government first, to avoid UN allegations that they were trying to overthrow a regime and destabilize the region, which was never fun...

'To: The Mondotian Government
From: Red Dawn International, Inc.

For whom it may concern:

It has come to our attention that your government has come under attack from an internal insurgency, and possibly from an outside rebel faction judging from troop movements our corporation has observed via satellite feeds from your Naveiranian border. At this time, we would like to extend our services in the form of access to our extensive catalog of small arms and equipment. However, our advisors will expect compensation based on the length of their deployment in your nation, which can be arranged with our financial department.

Best of luck,

-Red Dawn International'

While more of an advertisement than anything, the email served to open a channel of communication between the Mondoth government and an exterior source of military and logistical aide, for a fee. Being a corporation that thrived on conflict, however, there was always a back-up plan. In the form of contacts within the Mahrian Gull Syndicate. Being a criminal organization, it benefited them to maintain relations with various national militaries, especially those with the connections that Red Dawn possessed.

There had been discussions of arms deals with the Naveiranian military in the past, backroom dealings that had never been finalized. Oddly, two arms dealers were still in-country...

An old, battered two-and-a-half-ton truck rumbled outside the quartermaster's office, its old diesel growling like a dying animal as it idled patiently. The man in the driver's seat was of average height, with a darker complexion than most, and possessed of a powerful build. His dark hair was closely cropped around his head, in a high-and-tight style popular with American airborne soldiers. Scotts was a former Ranger, and this seemed to make sense. Dressed in a pair of desert-pattern fatigues and a crimson polo shirt, he sat uneasily in the cab of the vehicle, fingering a set of night-vision goggles on the dashboard. The SIG P226 on his right thigh rode securely in a Blackhawk! Serpa holster rig, with a pair of magazine pouches on his left hip. Scotts was getting tired of waiting on his partner already, even though he'd only left a minute ago.

Jackson Davis walked slowly towards the quartermaster's office, somewhat pissed that he'd had to come back here a third time. He sported a lighter skin-tone than Scotts, as well as lighter hair in brown instead of black. He was also a bit larger across the shoulders and chest. Davis wore the same fatigues and holster that Scotts had been issued, it was also his preferred set-up anyway. His boots were a bit different, however. Scotts had chosen a pair of Converse-brand desert boots, where Davis was wearing the more common Bellville-style. The matte-black 92FS Beretta tucked in the Serpa holster sported a pair of Hogue-brand aftermarket grips, with two additional magazines on his left hip for easy access if the thing needed to be reloaded. Davis' haircut was also a bit different, in that he had more hair. He'd never really liked the high-and-tight, it looked funny on his head. Regulations within his unit were also a bit looser than the Rangers, since Special Forces tended to take on more unconventional missions, they needed to blend better with the general populace. The tattoos on his forearms didn't help with that, however. The word 'SPECIAL' went from left to right across the bottom of his left forearm, with 'FORCES' following it on his right in the same position. He had others, but they weren't nearly as obvious. Since he'd retired, he'd gotten the ink in the more visible location, and then he'd been invited to work for Red Dawn, which paid much better than his pension did.

There were voices from within the office, one from the quartermaster which he'd spoken with on numerous occasions before, and a new one which he didn't recognize, which sounded a little agitated. Davis decided to knock before entering, keeping a hand near his Beretta just in case...

"It's Davis, from RDI. We were gonna talk business again, remember?"

He paused for a second, awaiting a response...

OOC: damn this invasion... since I've written my guys as just settling in as it happens, no time for them to plot and get into position for their murder. Having the arms deals was just a way for them to logically get inside information about the Naveiran invasion.

The lead Gull snapped around as he heard the voice outside. His right hand twitched, his usual reaction when surprised. Calming himself with a quick breath, he turned to the quartermaster and nodded briskly.

'Yes, right. Well, I think our business here is concluded. Don't worry about the shipments for now-just keep us informed if anything else strange happens. I'll see you compensated if you turn up anything interesting."

He stood up, snapped his head towards the door and his associate followed him out. At the unspoken question from the huge, tattoed man in the door way he barked. "Old friend. Nice to catch up." The two hurried to their car and drove off to report.

OOC: Same here, since selling arms to both sides turns a tidy profit as well.

IC:

Davis was a bit surprised as the man brushed past him, he looked somewhat familiar, but his hand still hovered over the rubber-wrapped grip of his nine-milimeter...

'Who in the f&#k was that?'

He mulled the strange encounter over in his head, and made a mental note to wear his vest next time, there could very well have been bullets flying through that door and his polo shirt wasn't going to do anything in the way of stopping them. The fact that he wasn't technically a combatant didn't provide him with a magical shield. The Speer Gold Dot +P+ hollow-points in his Beretta were good for soft targets, and might defeat body armor at close range, but after penetrating a door they would be pretty well deformed and useless, but it was as close to .357 magnum performance as he could get with 9mm ammunition.

Davis moved slowly inside, catching the door as it closed with a hand now resting on the Beretta. One could never be too sure about what was behind door number one, and he hoped it wasn't a corpse. Then again, he hadn't heard the hiss of a surpressed firearm, or the gargling of a slit throat...

OOC: Mahria, its okay if you want to re-RP that part, there was no warning and it's fine with me.

Ceri was guided into the concealed complex by the two marines until they reached it's nerve center, where Stanwin himself was ensconced in front of a computer screen yelling at everyone within range.

"Whose responsible for this? I just got a message from some jackassed arms company because they spotted an advancing Naveiran army. I want confirmation in ten seconds and a reason why we had to learn this from the Communist Arm Dealers Association. No wonder we couldn't stop a nuclear bomb going off in our own country!"

"Sir! We've got a satellite pass scheduled in thirty minutes, most of our assets are watching Valgoth and its the best we could do. However, there's a Condor based in Bwish Bay prepping as we speak, we should have pictures in five."

"That's better- Ambassador Ceri!" an Aide had just leaned over and whispered the announcement.
"A pleasure to meet you, how's the old Nueve Italia going? Better than this place I trust."

OOC: Mahria, its okay if you want to re-RP that part, there was no warning and it's fine with me.


OOC: hey, awesome. Much appreciated. In that case: the following occurs overlapping the time of my second (now deleted) post.

The Peacekeepers had a habit of never askng where their superiors got their information. It was almost always reliable. So when they were told their target in Mondoth was going to be travelling in a single, armoured limousine to a certain television studio on a certain day, they believed it.

One of the most important parts of any crime is the getaway. It was best to start it immediately after commiting ones crime. This group had planned one better: they'd have their getaway in mid-crime.

It was a method used in several occasions. Cars are designed to be triggered by a foot on the gas pedal. However, any weight will do. The Gulls had committed several successful murders using a second, remote-controlled toy car inside the real thing. Ordinary carbombings can be foiled by security checks… assuming one can get to the car.

One of the Gulls had (in cash) picked up an old junker at a disreputable used car lot. (He was a trained mechanic, among his other work, so he could ensure it would run.) A second had crossed over the Naveiran border with a mess of dynamite-easier to obtain in Naveira than in Mondoth proper. A car crash may be fatal… but it’s never wise to leave anything to chance.

The groups explosives specialist, Sean (a former IRA operative) talked shop with Pete (the mechanic) in the garage. The other four sketched out plan B on a crate in the unfurnished living room of the rented house. It was coming rather slowly.

Hiv eventually threw down his pen in disgust. Grumbling, he took a long pull from his beer can. “Are we insane, lads? Are we goddamn insane? We’re gonna hit Stanwin-a head of state?”

~ Ceri smiled as he held out his hand to Mr. Stanwin.

" Nice to meet you too sir, and thank you for your concern for Nueve Italia. We're still recovering from the war with Banduria, but the progress is remarkable. We're standing by to help you and your people with whatever is necessary, and that includes my services as well. Is there anything you would ask of me, Mister Stanwin?"~

*bump*

James smiled briefly "Thats good, as I believe you can tell by the recent out burst, we've just got possible intelligence that Naveira has mobilized somehow, never a good sign. The situation is bad enough with out an other insurgency. Dr. Sahib was kidnapped a few months ago by an unknown organization. the good Dr. personally designed and built our nuclear arsenal and we believe he did the same for whoever kidnapped him, with the results you've seen. Normally we'd have our intelligence network on the case but several of our black operatives have gone missing over the last few weeks, some in connection with this case. We're deaf and blind against whoever is out there right now and they've got nukes. Immediately we can use the obvious things, humanitarian aid and whatnot for Oil City. In the longer term though we're going to need intelligence assets to help track down who ever is responsib-"
"Sir!" the shout came from one of the communications consoles.

"We just got a call from the Governor General's office demanding to know why we've got a Condor scheduled to over fly Naveira."

"What? What does he care, do we have images from the Condor yet?"

"Sir, his aid is babbling about violating the trust of the Naveirans or soemthing."

"An Aid? Get the general on the line!"

"Apparently he's unavailable."

"Then hang up, what about those images?"

"Nothing yet, it looks like there's some pretty massive jamming in the area, could be preventing the transmission."

James turned to Ceri. "It looks like we may need your help militarily as well. How soon can you get troops here?"

~ Cristiano swung his head slowly to the left and back right as he estimated how long is would take the Holy Imperial Republic to prepare and ship an expeditionary force.

" I'm not too sure mister Stanwin, but I've been told that several divisions have been put on a heightened alert status, something to do with a conflict with one of our other allies that never happened. We could begin full deployment in. . ." Ceri paused as he thought of Nueve Italia's military capabilities from past experiences, " . . . fourty eight hours for a beachhead establishment and spearhead unit, and maybe about four days or so for the rest of the force, more or less."

In order to explain why two seperate task forces were being sent, Ceri went on.

" Nueve Italian military strategy denotes that upon landing on a foreign soil, a small group lands first with a carrier battle group, infantry, and light armor to secure a perimeter for the rest of the soldiers. Since this is friendly territory, that group won't be that large, like it normally is, but the time delay between the two groups may be. Usually, once we hit beachhead, the time between the spearhead and the rest of the fleet is around 2 or so hours; this is going to be longer, but thanks to the Nova Brittanica situation, we already have naval and air units ready to be shipped. I'm afraid for the first few days though, these will be all the reinforcements we can get here ae-es-ae-pee. You'll have to wait longer for the rest of the divisions."

The paucity of these numbers made Ceri feel as though he had embarassed Mr. Stanwin by making it seem that Nueve Italia couldn't spare a dime to help its ally. Cristiano felt he had to explain himself once more.

" I assure you, our pilots are superb, as are their fighters, and our spearhead infantry are always Vestaglies Neres: the best of the best. They will fight honorably and bravely for your people. I'll send the word as soon as you want me to, mister Stanwin.~

"I have the utmost confidence in your troops and pilots. If the Nueve Italian Civil war is any indication, they will be just what we need to fight our civil war."

At that moment the communications officers spoke up again.

"We're getting data in from the Condor recon aircraft. It's going through the image processors right now. Okay, first image is in, looks like... Sir, we've got at least two full Mondothian Theater Battle Groups advancing just west of Alua" (map here (http://www.geocities.com/jamealbeluvien/Mondothmapmain.bmp))

James turned back to Ceri. "It looks like we might need a little more help than I thought. From Alua the best time they can hope to make is two or three days, we'll be sabotaging the routes of advance the whole way but the nearest troops outside the Capital Division are in Camden bay, not much closer than the rebels are, and nowhere near as numerous."
(OOC: I got more planned, but I've got to go know, I'll get it posted tomorrow. And mahria, TG me what you need STanwin to do for the assassination, I'd like the attempt made before the rebels get to Mondoth City)

OOC: see the TG. Hope this'll do.

The Mahrian group had sweated bullets outside the studio they'd been told to stake out to kill Stanwin. When it had passed ten at night, they grouped back up and snarled their way home.

An enraged dialogue over encrypted email with the headquarters had resulted in new information. The reply, decoded, read "Source made an error putting the date into a cipher. Info. was out of date. Our apologies. Targets new location is a safehouse at following latitude and longitude." What followed were GPS coordinates. The message continued, "Do not attack until he tries to leave. Location is well-defended. Good luck."

In a bilingual train of obscenity (Mahrian Creole and English) the group packed up to move their base of operations. The dynamite was transferred over to a much nicer car, and the used car that was to serve as a bomb followed a half hour down the road.

It was going to be a long nights drive... the Gulls had no desire to see Stanwin escape again.

~ Ceri nodded to Stanwin as the situation was explained. He slowly reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sat-phone.

" I'll get right on those reinforcements. Expect troops within 24 hours."

The diplomat opened the phone, turned around and walked a few steps away from Mr. Stanwin, punched in a flurry of numbers, and was answered within a second.

" En-Eye-Es-Oh-See here," the voice in the phone spoke rapidly.

" The messiah isn't coming," Ceri answered in a hushed whisper. He was holding his breath, hoping that his plea would be responded too. After a pause,

" Wilco, twenty four, out."

The short replies and codes seemed outdated, but even over a secure line there could be open ears. Relieved, Cristiano turned back towards the Prime Minister.

" As I've promised," he began, " Nueve Italian troops will be here by next day. I just pray that their arrival isn't too late. . ."~

OOC: So, I get back from finals to discover my (divorced) Mother is marrying some guy I've only ever met once because I've been in college, whats more is the ceremony is going down in a couple weeks, so things have been crazy, story of my life.

IC:

message to Red Dawn Industries
From: The Office of the Governor General of Naveira
RE: Services

As you seem to be aware, I'm managing a little bit of a change int he Mondothian power structure via application of military pressure. However, as much as we've built up for this, my side is still a little short of resources, and seeing as you've dealt with my Naveiran comrades previously, I was hoping you'd render your services to my cause as well.


James Stanwin's temporary command

"Good We'll need them. Now if you don't mind it might be a good time to get some rest, we're going to have to leave early tomorrow and I've got a few things I want to do here before then."


OOC2: sorry about the brevity after the long absence, things are slowly getting normalized though so I'll have more soon.

The Gulls had encamped-grumbling-in a mess of bushes just outside the perimeter of Stanwins refuge. (A "lost hitchhiker" had been dismissed as drunk by four patrols before they had figured out the limits that were guarded.)

The bomb-car had been repacked with dynamite (nobody wanted any but the most utterly stable vehicle to transport explosives-a bumpy section of road had still caused several near-heart attacks.) The van was parked a few kilometers back.

Stanwins command was camouflaged as a civilian bulding. Equally to inconvenience attackers, there was only one paved road entering or leaving the complex. This also gave the Gulls only one location to watch, as a helicopter landing pad would have drawn too much attention to a supposed farmhouse.

With the parking breaks locked and (after the oily smile of the salesman) rocks shoved under the tires, the used car awaited. It was a few meters up a dirt road that intersected with the main, paved one. Hiv drew first watch, and set up the telescope to watch Stanwins front door.

The rest wrapped themselves up to sleep. A few patters of rain landed on the leaves around them. In a perfectly synchronized chorus, the Mahrian group muttered to themselves, "Shit."

It was going to be a long, wet night.

OOC: waiting for RDI and Nueve Italia to make next post

OOC: Sorry, lost track of this

~ At the mention of rest, Cristiano realized just how tired he was. Jet lag, combined with the fact that he hadn't been able to sleep for some time, made him stretch his mouth. He brought his hand up to try and stifle the yawn, but to no avail. Shaking off his weariness, Ceri nodded to Stanwin's proposal.

" Yes, best to be able to think with a clear head and not one flooded with fatigue," Ceri concurred, " but I must ask, where will I be staying?"
_____

Nueve Italia

Emperor Gori had recieved Ceri's message through NISOC (Nueve Italia Special Operations' Command), and immediately sent out the order to have a fleet redirected from a past hot spot to a current one. The force was sizeable, consisting of two carrier battle groups with three carriers each, several battlecruisers, and multiple destroyers, corvettes, arsenal ships, missile frigates, and likewise. The fleet's goal was to suppress any hostile force that threatened the current Mondothian government, and they were rather well equipped to perform that task.

Hopefully, the would arrive before the battles spread. . .~

OOC: bleh, I've logged on like fifty times this week intending to post and then it just didn't happen.
Here we go! Mahria, Get ready cause int he next post or two I'm putting Stanwin right out in the open.

IC:

"Yes, This facility is outfitted for extended stays, there's plenty of quartering, I'm afraid it's all barracks style so just pick a bed and crash, right down the hall" *indicating a doorway off the control room* "I've got private, ministerial quarters elsewhere." Replied Stanwin, heaving himself up from his seat and walking towards a separate doorway.


Rejoining Cassandra

The Horizon was lit up brilliantly as the great white orb of the sun crept it's way over the desert, leaking it's light on the remains of Oil City. But this sunrise became an overwhelming, brilliant white/red torrent, darkening just as quickly as it had come into a dull, glowing mushroom cloud swept by the wind. leaving only pith blackness behind.-
Sandy woke up in a cold sweat, desperately trying to adjust to the light before she remembered that for her, light was a meaningless abstract that illuminated only burnt recesses. She grasped for the pen and paper on her nightstand blindly and began scribbling down what she remembered of the dream, it was hard forming the letters without being able to see them, but she was determined that whatever happened, someone at least would be able to read what she saw. fighting and death, a civil war that would be fought through the darkened streets of Mondoth City, building to building.

Mondoth City Exclusive Airspace

The night was brightly lit by the signature Mondoth City lighting, it was said that night never fell on the capitol city since the brilliant lights were installed, providing light and comfort to those elements of the government and civilian populace that did not, or could not sleep. Those that could and did sleep would soon be awakened

The oncoming ground troops were still a day away, but nobody had expected an air attack. Sure there was twenty four hour fighter cover and air combat patrols, but only one AWACs was airborne at a time, hardly the three needed to meaningfully cover the city's surrounding airspace, nor the six needed to create an airtight net against stealth aircraft, which were a mainstay of Mondoth's airforce, and therefore a mainstay of the the rebellion's as well.

In this case it was aging B-5 low-altitude bombers, old but still near the pinnacle of stealthiness four bombers powered quickly into Mondoth City Airspace, leaving only a turbulent wake of air to mark their passage. Within minutes the four bombers had dispersed a deadly rain of multi-purpose/small-diameter bombs, targeting a variety of anti-air weapons systems that were unmanned for reasons that would never be adequately explained, as well as transformer stations responsible for distributing electricity from the cities nuclear plant to it's citizens. For the first time in nearly a decade, Mondoth City experienced Night.

Bumpalicious. if nobody else posts then I'll have more in a day or two. I went out of town for the holidays and the lack of internet access was a total surprise.
anyway, have a belatedly Merry Christmahanakwanzastica-een and a somewhat less belated Happy new year!

OOC: Fine, lets try to keep this thing going!

IC:

Prime Minister Stanwin awoke to the fading sounds of the last explosions to rock the city, just as the bunker's emergency lighting came on. Seconds later four marines were in his room; urging him to get up.

"Sir, we have to go, they're bombing the city!"
Stanwin struggled to throw of his sleepiness as the Marines rushed him to the surface where an unmarked car with government tags was waiting to rush the Prime Minister to the airport for a hasty withdrawal. The marines practically threw the Prime Minister into the back of the car, piling in after him as the vehicle powered out the parking area into the street. (OOC: This is where the Gulls get there chance to do what they were hired for.)

OOC: hey, sweet. Figured I shouldn't act until Stanwin left. I'll try and find more realistic plans in the future, methinks. I've modified what I had in mind to make it a bit more plausible. Hopefully I went far enough.


As they lay, sleeplessly, through the night, the Gulls had grown decidedly angry. They had come to hate Stanwin, who was hiding for so damned long. (They had practically come to hate more or less anything that caught their eye, to be honest.)

Still, they were thrilled to see Stanwins sole set of gates finally swing open. Their lookout saw the target car left the bunker-alone! A glare through binoculars confirmed the cars description in the compounds lights.

All had been worked out ahead of time. The one keeping watch signalled by hand to the other two awake. They both hurried into action-one kicking the sleeping shift into wakefulness, the other leaping into the bomb cars drivers seat. If the car failed, each man had a handgun and a few carried grenades.

The groups mechanic, Pete, was watching the car. The ignition had remained on all night-they needed every second they could get. For silence, he had crammed some padding under the hood. It had worked ineffectively, but the dark streets were dead and few people saw.

Pete brought the car-cautiously-down the slope onto the same road Stanwin was taking. His headlights were on low, so he could make out the oncoming, unlit target. Feigning drunkenness, Pete swerved between the two lanes, blocking the whole road. He hit his brakes, coming to a slow stop some distance away from Stanwin.

The Prime Minister-sitting in the back seat-glared around the front seat at the stranger. "What's this fool doing?" he sighed to the guards around him. His driver, a tough young former soldier, turned around to shrug. The more experienced guard on the passenger side was suspicious, his hand resting on his holstered gun.

The bodyguard was correct when the door on the strange car opened, and it's driver leaped out into the ditch by the road. Thinking it a conventional attack, he roared to his charge, "Sir! Down!" He flung his door open and got off one shot. It did no good.

Because just as Pete had leaped out, he snatched the brick lying on the passenger seat of his car and threw it onto the gas pedal. With its tires howling into the silent night, the car lurched down the road. Stanwins driver was well trained, and snapped his car to dodge it. Still, the Gulls had timed things just right-the bomb car was too close.

Later investigation by authorities reconstructed the impact-the mystery car had hit Stanwins head on, crashing into the drivers side about halfway down the cars length. The impact had set off the detonator planted under the hood, with dynamite having replaced most of the cars normal components.

Nails and bits of scrap metal (along with shrapnel from the car) had punched through the cars body. And, unfortunately, it's passengers. Stanwin and four of his personal bodyguard had been inside the car.

An ambulance and a fire truck had been rushed to the scene, but had been held back until the car was extinguished. Corporal James O'Conner and was killed on impact. The driver, Martin Fayerman, was taken to hospital with severe burns and lacerations. Corporal Ben Hu was unresponsive to paramedics, with multiple broken bones and second degree burns. He remains in an unstable condition. Sergeant Tony McIver-firing from outside the car-had been hurled back by the explosion, and suffered severe internal injuries.

James Stanwin, Prime Minister of the Trinitarian Republic of Mondoth, was en route to hospital when his vital signs plummeted. Heroic efforts by paramedics were insufficient. He died from severe interal bleeding and skull trauma.

The Gulls had succeeded.

OOC: A little god-modey there but I liked it :-)
IC:

The word spread quickly among Mondoth's government, ministers were called and made calls, the government phone lines were full of babbling voices. With the Advancing rebel army only a day away things were coming to a climax that would not soon be forgot.

OOC: more or less a fancy bump I know, I'm going to get a hold of Nueve Italia and MS and maybe some others for the battle part.

OOC: yeah, I know. I redid it a few times, trying to improve it a bit. Wanted something less cliche than, "Then they took a sniper rifle..." and any place he would have gone to would be checked out for bombs by his bodyguards previously.

By the way, Mondoth: the "Mondoth City experienced night..." passage was really nicely written.

OOC: Sorry for no post in so long

IC:
_____

Mondothian Bunker, Ceri's Quarters

~ It was little more than a military barracks almost, but it would do for Cristiano. As soon as he was shown to his room, he brought out his laptop and began his work. He checked on the progress of the Nueve Italian fleet heading for Mondoth, realized that they would be here in a few hours, and suddenly felt a little more at ease. No messages or emails had been sent to him, but that was of no concern. Contact was going to be minimal anyway. Putting the computer aside, Ceri lay back down on the bed for a few minutes when suddenly the lights dimmed, and went out.

"What the -" Ceri was cut off as the lights came flashing back, blinding him for a second, and then a soldier came bursting through the door. Standing quickly, the Nueve Italian sensed the shock (or was it fear?) coming from the man.

" Diplomat, Sir, we need to leave immediately." he tried to say calmly, but the words came out jumbled, slurred, and overall in a panicky tone. Cautiously, Ceri took a step forward.

" What's the problem," he checked his stripes, " Private?"

Again, in the same quick, panicked tone, the soldier blurted out, " Mondoth City has been bombed, and we're receiving reports that the Prime Minister may be. . . "

Ceri raised an eyebrow. " May be what?"

The Private gulped, shook his head, and looked Cristiano square in the eyes.

" Dead."

Quickly, Ceri's commanding mind took precedent. His original mission had been to report information, call in military assistance if needed, and protect Stanwin. He had failed the last miserably, but someone else was in charge of Mondoth now: he just needed to find out who. Before that though, he needed to find out about the current status of Mondoth City.

" About the bombing, how many planes, casualties, etcetera?" he asked the soldier in as calm a tone as he could manage.

" Unknown at this time, Sir, but our transformers and several anti-air weapons and facilities were destroyed."

That explains the quick blackout, emergency generator must've kicked in. . .

" Private, I need you to take me to whoever is in control of Mondoth at this moment, understood?"

The guard nodded once, turned, and they both left the room. Before he stepped out, though, Ceri paused to go back to his luggage and grab a Beretta 92F5 with an integrated silencer. He stowed it away in his coat pocket.

You never know, he mused to himself. With the report of the attack upsetting him, Ceri did indeed want to be prepared for whatever would await him.

That included any opposition to him or the Mondothians.~

OOC: Mahria Thanks, every once in A while I just hit a sweet spot for writing, I wish I could pop stuff like that out more consistently

IC:

The private led Ceri hurriedly to the communication center where a grizzled Colonel was waiting at a console looking desperately for something to do.
Spotting Ceri he practically ran up to him.

"Sir, I'm authorized under the circumstances to give you control of this installation for purposes of coordinating the Nueve Italian aid." At this he glanced at the dozens of darkened consoles and reached to pick up one of the near-by phones that dotted the room.
"I'm afraid the power outage leaves us without satellite communications from here, the dish's were on grid power... " He put the phone up to his ear and listened for a second. Smiling sardonically he handed Ceri the receiver and said "We've got a dial tone though, you can call anyone you want until we can get a satellite up-link. I imagine a news van is in the area and we'll probably need to commandeer it for the dish, I've got soldiers out looking for it."

~ Ceri nodded to the Colonel, almost whispered a hushed "Thanks," and immediately got on line with his friend and war buddy, the Emperor. His wife, Catalina Ortega diGori, answered first.

" Diga"

" Signora, please, this is Ceri, where is Antonio?"

The Senatrix could sense the worry in his voice, and new about the Mondothian Situatio. Something had to have happened.

" He's right here, Cristiano, here-"

Ceri heard the phone shuffle around a bit, a few voices in the background he couldn't make out, and then, " Ceri?"

" Sir, Antonio," at the mention of his name, Emperor Gori knew something bad had happened. His former soldiers never called him by first name unless there was no time for formalities, " Prime Minister Stanwin has been killed."

Antonio Orsini Gori hung his head. He wasn't expecting news like this, but with all the military traffic Nueve Italia had been picking up in Mondoth, he knew that any call from Ceri would bring bad news.

" Alright, listen then: I'm not sure what power the Mondothian Government has given you, but right now, I want you to protect whatever high-ranking political officials you can find. Once our soldiers hit the beaches, you're free to stay on the ground or climb in a cockpit if you so choose. Coordinate our landing, and aid Mondoth in any way, understood?"

" Yessir," Cristiano's hardened resolve had returned. He would help bring Mondoth through this dark time, so help him God. He hung up the phone quickly and turned to tell the Colonel his new priorities as mandated by Emperor Gori.

In Nueve Italia, Antonio heard the line go dead, and slowly hung up his own phone.

" Godspeed Ceri. . . godspeed."~
_____

OOC: Will post landing of troops tomorrow/later, no time right now, sorry bout that.

The returning e-mail was as nondescript as the first. One might begin to wonder if they were automated...

To The Mondothian Government,

We are glad to hear that you have considered our offer of professional military aide. With your government's blessing, we will deploy a force of roughly two-hundred-fifty troops for counter-insurgency operations. As Red Dawn is a highly mobile organization, we cannot offer much in the way of armored support. Our infantry, however, consists of some of the finest operatives from backgrounds such as the US Navy SEALs, US Army Special Forces and Rangers, German GSG-9, French Foreign Legion, British SAS and SBS, and a multitude of law enforcement agencies and military forces worldwide.

These troops will arrive via airborne insertion, as will any vehicles and equipment they will need during their stay. We would please ask that you have some sort of leadership on-site to direct them after a temporary camp has been established. Without such guidance, they will set up a perimeter and await further orders.

We require only your go-ahead to being deployment.

Again, our best wishes,

-Red Dawn International

Back at the global headquarters, a series of C-130 cargo planes began being loaded with a multitude of armaments, supplies, and vehicles. While nothing close to the scale of a main battle tank, it was mainly a collection of Humvee-type trucks, two-and-a-half-ton cargo haulers, and the occasional Bradley Assault Vehicle. The weapons were mainly replacements for those that broke on impact or were destroyed in the field. The crates all contained Heckler and Koch products, stocked full of G36C carbines, MP5A4 sub-machineguns, and Mark 23 handguns. AG36 light machineguns were also in evidence, as well as Stinger anti-aircraft missile systems and Javelin tank-killer armaments. Crates apon crates of ammunition were stacked within the bellies of the aircraft, in a multitude of calibers.

The troops themselves were already assembling on the airfield, fully armed and equipped with the aforementioned firepower. Each had been issued a level III ballistic vest, matching helmet, and a selection of grenades. While select armaments were provided by the corporation in the event of destruction, most of the gathered mercenaries had their own tastes when it came to firearms, equipment, and the arrangement thereof. The only real commonality came in the form of the uniform, a digitized desert pattern combat uniform complete with desert boots of varying brands depending on individual preference. Each man had arranged his equipment according to his own style, and had armed himself accordingly. Every man had also strapped himself into a parachute harness, for an airborne insertion, so that no RDI aircraft had to land to disgouge its cargo, be it equipment, vehicles, or personnel.

While this was a logistical nightmare for some, the corporate bigwigs had mandated that each soldier of fortune select their armaments from a generous list of calibers. Anything not on the list had to be procured with private funding. It would be roughly another two hours before everything was loaded, and only then when they got the go-code to load up...

OOC: to be clear, the Rebel forces are billing themselvesa s the legitimate government and are the ones asking for RDI aid, the remains of the Stanwin government still think they can handle the situation with a minimum of outside aid.

IC:

Whole both generals came from vastly different ideologies, they were both students of Mondothian tactics and strategy, evolved over hundreds of years from the great skirmishers of the Arabians and the strong lines of the Romans. Instead of the mighty clash of titanic tanks as most modern warfare was accomplished, the two Mondothian armies met first with fringes, feints and flourishes, before ever a tank was seen on the battlefield snipers were hunting each other in epic hunts from hill-top to hill top while calling in artillery and air strikes as much to limit their opponents hiding places as to kill them. while the snipers of either side were engaged, the defenders were setting up ambushes full of machine gun nests and ATGMs and salted with concealed armored vehicles while the rebel attackers sent their own skirmishes to seek out these traps under constant fire from snipers and slowly advancing ATGM team that would fade to a new position, often beginning to to move while their bullets or missiles were still in the air.

The battle could go on for days in this way, each side waiting for reinforcements and for their sniper-scouts to find the single fatal flaw in the enemies front lines.

Mondothian Shores, off the coast of Mondoth City

~At first it was just one light in the ocean. Then there was two, three, seven, nineteen, and so on. The lights got closer, turning into gray blocks, and in front of the blocks came what looked like a swarm of black dots. When they got close enough, people could make them out: The Nueve Italian Imperial Navy had arrived, and ahead of them flew a group of fighters. The two carriers with the fleet had established air superiority immediately as the cruisers, destroyers, and four battleships made a defensive perimeter around them. Admiral Viktor Yashin radioed ahead to the command center that had been designated by the Emperor himself to contact.
_____

Mondothian Command Bunker

Ceri couldn't believe what he was hearing. Hell, the Mondothians around him couldn't believe what they were hearing. The Nitalians had come.

" Patch me through to that ship and isolate the signal!" Ceri commanded as he strode forward to a comm. officer to get in touch with the Sol, a Carrier in the NIIN.

" Attention! Attention, Mondothian Command! This is the Sol fleet under command of Admiral Yashin. Respond please!"

Overjoyed, Ceri immediately replied back, " Admiral Yashin, this is first lieutenant Cristiano Ceri, current diplomat in Mondoth and leader of the Nueve Italian military operation in this area, as denoted by Emperor Gori himself," not able to suppress a smile, he continued, " Where in God's name were you guys?"

Yashin, upon hearing a fellow Nitalian, couldn't help but grin as well.

" You know the Nin: we always like to make an entrance."

Once the friendly banter was over, Ceri directed the fleet to unload and proceed to aid the Mondothian forces currently in a strategical engagement with the rebels. Nitalian fighter jets would be over that area in a few minutes. Ceri prayed that this force would be enough to save what remained here. . .~

And she's taller than most
And she's looking at me
I can see her eyes looking from a page in a magazine
She makes me feel like I could be a tower
Big strong tower yeah
She got the power to be
The power to give
The power to see yeah yeah

Suddenly I see ...
-Suddenly I See, KT Tunstall

The Battle for Mondoth City

As the Nueve Italian jets roared in the true battle had only just begun, Rebel force had found a gap in the defenses and rushed to exploit it, finding out to late that it had been a carefully constructed trap leaving the a large portion of the rebels cut of in an ever tightening noose.
It was like the clash of titans, and it was chaos. snipers and ATGM teams that had been positioned long before the main onslaught had begun were still at work, often deep inside the enemy lines rushing to do as much good for their side but cautious as to not reveal their position before moving on. The Mondothian military was almost totally devoid of anythign that could turly be called a Main Battle tank, but instead relied on lighter, more mobile Armoured tank destroyers that were at once surprisingly nimble and surprisingly well armored. These were jogging around the battlefield on either side, the attackers jokeying for a breakthrough and the defenders attempting to block the onslaughts where they came.
As soon as the Mondothian commanders received word of the Nueve Italian aircraft they began relaying orders to attack the enemy armor formations that were currently only minutes away from a breakthrough to the encircled rebel formation.

Meanwhile, the rebels had spotted the approaching aircraft as well and were swiftly preparing. While the former occupiers were themselves short of anti-air equipment, the Naveirans themselves had no such problems, having quickly realized in the course of their insurgency that Mondothian air supremacy must be reduced they had acquired a variety of anti-air systems, almost fetishisticly acquiring them whenever available. Thus, when the Nueve Italian pilots attacked, they would find themselves against a wild assortment of weapons, from clearly ridiculous numbers of Stinger's and stinger-rip-offs to the latest anti-air detterants like Starstreak and even a few Russian Tunguskas and a lone NATO THAAD battery.


A Temporary Hospice near the remains of Oil City, Mondoth
"Sandy, I've got some good news, the airfield is finally set up and there's a group of jets ready to take people out and relieve some of our emergency workers. I've got you scheduled for the first plane out, there's a clinic in Port Regal that specialize in cases similar to yours, they might be able to get your sight back."

"Thank you Dr. but I don't think I want my sight back, I've got something...different now, you wouldn't understand I think. Besides, I doubt they could do anything for me."

Dr. Davies struggled not to stare at the blackened holes that used to be eyes, it seemed somehow that the skin had taken on a permanently blackened and charred appearance, it was both grotesque and fascinating.
Privately he agreed that her sight would probably never be restored, not even by the sort of clever techno-widgets that had allowed other people struggling with blindness to see through cameras and direct brain interfaces. But he would never confide that to his patient, he needed to maintain hope.

"Well, I'd like them to take a look at you anyway, I'm sure you'd be surprised by what modern technology can do these days."

She didn't respond.

Port Regal, Temporary Mondothian Government
The Remaining members of the Mondothian government had finally settled into their emergency home int he bustling port of Port Regal. As soon as the last minister landed calls were sent to the major players on Mondoth's side, including the Nueve Itallian fleet and Ceri's command bunker, assuring everyone that the government was still in place and was safe for the time being.

OOC: almost done
Mondoth City Veterans Hospital, current resting place of the Body of James Stanwin
The city was quiet, quiet enough to hear the dull thuds and roars of the battle taking place over it in the nearby hills. The hospitals were another matter though, paramedics were being rushed to and from the battlefield, as were wounded and dead soldiers, creating a sort of chaos that only a resident could truly appreciate. news reporters were characteristically swarming, trying to get exclusives with soldiers fresh from the battle. Well, except for one news team that was having a run of bad luck after their sattelite van had been confiscated on a rush notice. now they were just standing around, arguing loudly with anyone they could get on a cell phone with, trying to get a new van to their location. The camera crew, tired of being useless, was set up shooting B-roll film. Like many such events, they didn't know what they shot until after the fact, when the film was being examined, cut and prepared for storage much later. But int he background of a shot they would find a clear shot of a man on a gurney, hooked up to a rolling intravenous line and a variety of widgetry being wheeled out of the hospital and into the clearly marked Prime Ministerial Helicopter that had been waiting patiently on the heli-pad since shortly after Stanwins body had been moved to the veterans hospital. As soon as the gurney and a small team of doctors were on board, the helicopter lifted off and away.

bump?

anyone?

hello? Can we finish please?