NationStates Jolt Archive

"Enemies to Port!"

"Fire!" there was a deafening roar and huge jet of flame.

"Yeah." the crewman who had been watching the IR camera displays had stood up, peering out the window instead, "I think we can safely say there are no enemy units there anymore."

"Very impressive." the man speaking was a thin, weasely man with a van dyke beard.

"Don't you think." another man sat on a balustrade smoking a cigarette he looked like he had rolled himself.

The second was wearing a long black coat, brown sea boots, with a long trailing red sash and was in many respects a spitting image of the first, just thirty odd years younger and without the beard, "Yes I do think Vladimir. The South has been very resourceful."

Vladimir flicked his cigarette away, "So Father, I assume you're thinking something."

The older man stared at his son with an unreadable expression, "I imagine you are here to ask us to reallign ourselves with Dyelli Beybi."

"Father." he gave a look of mock horror, "Is there no such thing as a friendly family visit?"

His Father raised an eyebrow but said nothing, "Ok." his son chuckled, "Yes, we want Brezhnev to swear allegiance to the Tzarina, and in return we will mercilessly butcher every Var, rogue orc, elf and funny robotic drone in the Arctic circle."

"And if he doesn't, I assume there is some kind of catch?" the father inquired.

"We mercilessly butcher every rebel, Var, rogue orc, elf and funny robotic drone in the Arctic circle." Vladimir grinned wolfishly, "But you aren't losing anything either. Dyelli Beybi is a democracy again, and not one where a few people are pulling all the strings either."

"Alright." the older man nodded, a slight smile forming on his face, "Stick and the carrot aye? You're already becoming a fine example of the Dzerzhinsky family. And of course you remember this was never meant to be a permanent rebellion... although there was never meant to be a Tzarina either."

"There wasn't." Vladimir shrugged, "Things don't always go according to plan. Rolyalty or no, I can't help but like her... So you will speak to Brezhnev?"

"Yes." he nodded his affirmation, "Just one question, who is running this ship?"

Vladmir arched an eyebrow nodding to a figure behind his father.

"Hello Felix." it was a soft, feminine and very familiar voice...

He turned, there was a woman there blonde, big innocent blue eyes that hid the fact that she was the most notorious pirate in Klatch. She wore the same vague uniform as Vladimir, with black gloves and a black wie brimmed hat with a bright red feather.

"May I present Grand Admiral Collins." Vladimir intoned.

She grinned, it wasn't a pleasant grin at all.

I need a true lunatic to lead the new Dyellian Navy...

That was what the Tzarina had said to Adelle Collins. She had been seated across the way from her, the baby cradled in her arms.

I'm a mother. Adelle had replied, I retired when he was born.

The Tzarina had looked at her with that distant smile, I want a Grand Admiral, not a Captain, thats mostly a desk job... And I can tell you who killed your husband.

It was like an icy bucket of water had been thrown over Adelle, she was instantly awake, her rage sparking like a bush fire, Who did it?

His name is Reilley... we think he is hiding in Karndi somewhere, Grand Admiral... And when the time is right you will take your ship to find him.

My ship? Adelle had asked, puzzled.

Then the Tzarina had shown her what the Dyellian Navy was all about.

"We have Brezhnev on board Ma'am." the Captain saluting brought Collins back to the present.

Officers in the new Dyellian Navy all wore the long black leather coats. The colour of the sash, eppaulettes, feathers in the hat and type of hat denoted rank. The Captain wore a wide brimmed hat with a grey feather and no eppaulettes.

"Excellent." Adelle had been staring fixidly at a 6 foot mirror in her State Room, lost in her own thoughts, although the Captain probably thought she was admiring her own reflection, "Show him to the drawing room. Let the Ambassador swear him in then I will join him for tea. When I give the signal I want to be ready to lift the anchor and head back to Cyro at full speed. We do not want to draw attention to ourselves before the Fleet is ready."

"Aye Aye!" the Captain saluted, black gloves touching forhead.

The Tzarina would be pleased. The locals were complying most agreeably... and the HMS Imperium Dyellia had seen action for the first time and not been found wanting. Everything was going according to plan.

Timaru was a wasteland. The once prosperous town had been destroyed by the war, it was now nothing more than ruins.

The train station still had a roof, or most of a roof... it was now the field HQ of Lieutenant General Ivan Walowski, the leader of Dyelli Beybi's most Northern Army, Stonehelm.

"We have rounded up a few humans who have been working for the Var." a Captain was reporting. His body ramrod stiff, his poncho waving slightly in the wind.

"Execute them." Walowski was taking no prisoners, the population of Timaru had been massacred. Walowski himself was from nearby and this was his personal revenge, "Strip them of their equipment then leave the bodies out for the animals."

"We also took out one drone creature, lost five soldiers, captured an elf."

The General grunted, "Exe--- no don't just yet. Bring this elf to me."

He grinned unpleasantly, for a moment reminding the Captain of a wolf, a tall, blonde, blue eyed wolf, "We shall see if we can make them talk." Walowski finished.

A gust of wind brought a trickle of snow falling from a hole in the roof, "You are dismissed." Walowski saluted simultaneously with the Captain.

He stood, walking a few metres to where a band of serious looking staff officers had set up a table and promptly covered it in maps. A radio perched precariously on one corner.

"Sir!" one saluted.

"What is the news from the front?" Walowski demanded.

"Nothing new. Major General Petrovost annouces that they are fighting in Cathedral square in Moskau. That is perhaps a 100 metre gain since we last spoke."

Walowski nodded. Moskau was the key. Recapturing the city would give a vital fortress to defend the long supply road to Karmanyaka in the East. A road Stonehelm had been ordered to open.

"Sir!" someone else came sprinting in.

"Yes Comrade." Walowski turned, nodding to the newcomer, "You are Calvalry no?"

"Yessir. We have found something in the forrest... We think you should take a look for yourself."

Walowski raised an eyebrow.

"We think, Sir, it's where they came from."

Without another word, the Lieutenant General grabbed his greatcoat from a pile of boxes...

The nightmare went on forever. There was pain and thirst and nausea, occasionally visions and sound would flash before her eyes. Had there been a time before the nightmare? Perhaps not.

A man with spectacles.

She cannot die yet, give her some food, water, we still need more samples.

Time passed, pain, thirst, nausea.

There was thunder in the distance. She could not remember how she knew it was thunder, only that it was. Perhaps there had been a time before.

Time passed, thirst, nausea, pain.

The world was shaking under the pounding of a thousand hooves. She couldn't remember what a horse looked like.

Time passed, nausea, pain, thirst.

EX-TER- there was an explosion.

Then there was light.

"Sweet Jesus have mercy." the Private turned away.

Walowski was casually reloading his weapon, he cast an eye over the figure on the table, "Now if the chest wasn't moving I'd swear they were dead. Moskauan uniform is that?"

"No." the private shook his head, "Not army. That's KGB.... Good grief, it's like something out of the hollocaust."

"Yes." Walowski finished, putting his pistol away again, "I must admit they have been underfed."

Which was an understatement. The figure on the table appeared to be a collection of bones loosely wrapped up in skin. Tubes ran into both arms, he approached, wrinkling his nose at the smell, "Fetch s medical team, we'll need these tubes out, then we can unstrap it and maybe get an idea of what the hell's going on here."

"Yessir." the Private darted off.

Walowski folded his arms behind his back, he noticed suddenly the cadaverous figure was watching him, "Who are you?" he asked.

"A pound of flesh, no more no less. More, always more." the figure muttered through cracked lips.

The Lieutenant-General winced, lost for anything to say momentarily, "It's safe now." he murmured eventually.

And inside the rage was building...

The bunker rumbled, The Red Army had arrived in Moskau the other day, heading East into territory still nominally controlled by the former Rogue State of Timaru and Moskau. The forces there had sworn allegiance to the Dyellian State once again and were combining to form the 'Army of Retribution', but the Red's, whose massive supply chain was rumbling past, were headed further East, to Karmanyaka.