NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Just a quick coming out of isolation post. Depending on interest I'll decide if I want to go anywhere with it. For now, closed to countries which had diplomatic ties (of any kind) with the former Czarist Republic of West Corinthia.

IC:

A Corinthian soldier writes home to his family:

Dearest Aurelia,

It is difficult to believe it's been three years since we resigned our freedom. Three years since those Tribunal scum murdered Czar Aleksei and took over the country. I can't believe we let them get away with it. The very thought sickens me. Even now I look back upon the glorious days of the Kotov dynasty and think, "what have we done."

The Tribunal made us promises to keep us quiet to the world. They said they would end the draft, lower taxes and increase wages, and release all political prisoners from the gulags (remember how Uncle Nikolai disappeared after saying those things about the war with Saint Fedski?). Like fools we believed them, and said nothing to the world.

Let me get to the point. I love what West Corinthia used to be, and I hate what it's become. We are in isolation, and we're suffering. I don't expect you to understand why I have to do what I'm going to do, but know that I did it to free our country. I'm going to put a stop to this, even if I die trying.

With all the love I possess,
your husband

The Tribunal rose to power so quickly that no one had time to react. The country was in shambles. It began when the founder and beloved dictator of West Corinthia, Vasili Kotov, was assassinated and his underage, inexperienced, and illegitimate son was left as the only heir to the throne. Aleksei Kotov was a weak ruler who relied mainly upon his cabinet to make decisions for him. This led most legislation to favor the views of his cabinet rather than himself.

A power struggle ensued in the Imperial Palace in Kydonia, the capital of West Corinthia. The young Czar, Aleksei, was left powerless and unwanted by those seeking his position. To make matters worse, he had lost the loyalty of the Corinthian army, which ultimately decides who holds power (not unlike the Ancient Roman political system).

Meanwhile, a hidden organization known only as the "Tribunal" had steadily been gaining the support of the people through their secretive propaganda campaigns and rallies. Eventually they seized their chance to assassinate Czar Aleksei and took control of the country. Immediately the country went into isolation. For three years no one took note of the former world power which had suddenly disappeared from the map, until now...

Longing for the days of old, a new underground organization-the Cult of Vasili- has appeared in Kydonia. At first the Tribunal paid them no mind, seeing them as a harmless group paying homage to the late Czar Vasili Kotov, but now they have been proscribed and outlawed by the government. However, the Tribunal has made their first mistake, they have drawn attention to themselves by systematically seeking out and murdering supporters of the Cult of Vasili. Though international reaction to these events is yet to be seen, local reaction seems to show widespread support for the Vasili Cultists.

~Kydonia official news broadcast~

Today violence erupted in Kydonia as a mob declaring their support for the Cult of Vasili clashed with a company of Hospitallers (the Tribunal police force). In the past, such mobs have been dispersed with little trouble, but today's situation escalated when several of the Hospitallers actually joined the mob and helped to repel the other police. Additional police units were called in and the mob was eventually put down with at least 128 wounded and a mind-boggling 411 arrested. This event can't help but raise the question: Is the Tribunal losing it's iron grip of West Corinthia? Could we see the days of a second Republic in the near future?

*screen turns to static*
*Tribunal logo appears on screen*
Political dissidence will not be tolerated. A curfew is now in effect. Citizens found outdoors without the proper identification will be subject to arrest.


Location: A warehouse on the outskirts of Kydonia

Colonel Ptolemy of the 76th Templar Division paced back and forth in front of the warehouse building. He was nervous. Given the cool breeze, the perfectly clear night sky, the spectacular view of the mountains in the east, and beautiful skyline of Kydonia (dominated by the Imperial Palace) to the west, it would be difficult for a passerby to understand why. Colonel Ptolemy was nervous because he had just made a life-altering decision. He had enlisted with the Cult of Vasili. At first he did not understand why they had chosen to deify the late Czar Vasili Kotov, but the more he researched, the clearer it seemed. West Corinthia had been great under the Czars, but had diminished since the Tribunal came to power. With all the propaganda floating around, it was difficult to remember the past.

As a high-ranking military officer, Ptolemy commanded the loyalty and respect of many in the army. His plan was to use this political power to fight the Tribunal. But first he would need to eliminate those officers who stood in his way-even the general who had promoted him to colonel. He glanced back at the warehouse entrance uneasily. Inside the warehouse were enough weapons and ammunition to launch a coup on the Imperial Palace, but that would cause the country to crumble for lack of stability. Colonel Ptolemy knew this. Things had to be done in a certain order. Eliminate the disloyal officers, (disloyal with regard to him) including his general, which would cause him to be promoted to general to replace him, then take full command of the army, destroy the Tribunal, and use foreign allies to help stabilize the country. Ptolemy had taken his plan straight from the play-book of the great Czar Vasili himself.

Now he had his eyes set on the Corinthian throne.

Soon other Vasili cultists would be arriving to take the weapons and ammunition from Ptolemy. The colonel himself needed to tread carefully. No one had ever successfully taken on the Tribunal before. No one even knew who they were. Only rumors existed, and rumors said the Tribunal was a group of 12 men who shared power. Another rumor said they were gods sent to help the struggling people of West Corinthia (started by the Tribunal-no doubt).

The Colonel continued to wait.

OOC: start with reaction to the riot, or whatever you feel is appropriate.

OOC: I have my eye on this thread, but as I'm exploring Ireland with my family, I don't have regular access to a computer (this post was made in an internet cafe).

I will be back home by Saturday and by then, I will post my response

OOC: Bump/ at this point you can PM me for entry. I just don't want it getting crowded with people who have no prior experience dealing with West Corinthia. Also making proclamations and such are open to anyone.

bump for Wilhelm

You are so tagged...

Emperor William, formerly Prince William, watched the recording of the West Corinthian news report. Activity from the former Czarist Republic had been very quiet for the past few years, so it came as a surprise to the Emperor when this bit of information arrived on his doorstep.

Many years ago, Prince William had sent a massive peacekeeping force into West Corinthia to restore order after the ruler, Czar Vasili Kotov, had died under mysterious circumstances.

Eventually however, it was discovered that Kotov had produced an illegitimate son, Alexai Kotov, whom he had hidden away in the Caucus Mountains. He was recovered and put on the throne as the new ruler of West Corinthia. Peace returned to the nation, and the Principality pulled its forces out. Prince William believed that with the new Czar in control, their eastern front would be pretty much secured.

The new Czar's reign however, did not last. He was weak and ineffectual, and his handlers took advantage of that. The young Czar was murdered, and a Tribunal took over which broke off diplomatic relations with the Principality and went into isolation.

By that time, Prince William had grown disgusted by West Corinthian politics and vowed to never get involved with former Czarist Republic again.

But now...

Riots were breaking out across West Corinthia. While that wasn't unusual in itself, as West Corinthians deep down desire to be controlled and act wild and reckless when they precieve their leadership as weak, what made this situation different was the fact that according to the new report, elements of West Corinthia's military were defecting to the protester's side.

This new development made Emperor William very worried about the situation in the former Czarist Republic. If these protests grew and strengthened, they might spread beyond the borders of West Corinthia, perhaps into the Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire.

This was something which the Emperor could not risk. He had to get answers, even if it meant contacting a nation which he vowed never to speak to.

And so the Emperor sent a letter. However, it was not a letter addressed solely to the West Corinthian leadership. This was an open letter which both the government and the people could read. Emperor William wanted everyone to know that his attention was focused upon the calamity going on in West Corinthia, and that he wouldn't rest until he got answers as to what on Earth was going on.

Official Message from the Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire

Dear Sirs and/or Madams of the Tribunal

Don't think for a moment that your tight grip on your country has prevented me from seeing that riots are taking place across your lands, riots which have the potential to threaten your rule over West Corinthia.

I want answers. What is the situation within your nation? Do protestors really threaten to overthrow your secret Tribunal? Well I hope that you give me a response soon, because as you members of the government read this letter, I am positioning Armada One several miles off your western shore.

Until I get an honest assessment about what's going on over there, those ships are going to hold their positions. Do reply in good time.

Signed,

Emperor William Kennedy
Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire
Crimean Peninsula
Yalta

Inside the former Imperial Palace, Kydonia

One shadowy figure approached another inside the dimly lit hallway of the palace. Demetrius Apostolis, the mysterious leader of the Tribunal, accepted a package from his favorite party member, whose name was Vlassis. The two men ducked into a private room and shut the heavy oak doors behind them with a resounding thud.

Once inside, the men pulled back the hoods of their black robes. The robes, aside from being pure black, bore only the insignia of the Tribunal (http://i110.photobucket.com/albums/n91/toms1266/tribunal.jpg). Now in private, the men were able to speak freely. "How could they have known about this? They know more than foreigners should about the daily affairs of MY country!" Demetrius began, slamming his fists down on a gold-adorned dinner table once used by the old Czar.

"They claim to have dispatched a fleet off our shores." Vlassis replied calmly. "How shall we respond?"

"We can't let them know more than we need to tell them, so keep our official response brief. I want you to personally detain all media officials not directly working for me, understand? We can't let a slip-up like this go unpunished." Demetrius rubbed a bead of sweat off his brow and wiped it on his robe.

"I understand. For the Tribunal!" Vlassis saluted and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Vlassis." Demetrius called him back with a dark tone. "If this happens again it'll be your head on the chopping block."

"I understand, my lord."

Official Tribunal Government Response to Wilhelmsborough

http://i110.photobucket.com/albums/n91/toms1266/tribunal.jpg

We are the rulers of West Corinthia. 12 men, born with the sacred duty to uphold stability and justice in this fine country. Any rumors you have heard are false. Your ships will not enter Corinthian waters lest they be boarded. Please reply if you understand.


Location: Warehouse on the outskirts of Kydonia

A military truck pulled up next to Colonel Ptolemy outside the warehouse. A man in a Templar uniform leaned out the driver's side window and asked, "Do you know the best way to find Myrmidanis (god of loyalty in the Corinthian polytheistic religion)?"

Ptolemy knew the answer, for this question was really a test to make sure it was really him. "You need look no further than your own heart, loyal Corinthian. You arrived just in time, I was getting nervous."

"Sorry for the delay." the driver answered, now stepping out of his vehicle. "Do you have our weapons?"

"Do you have my men?" the Colonel quickly shot back.

The driver reached back and pulled the tarp off the back of his truck. A dozen men in Templar uniforms jumped down from underneath and saluted. "Our loyalty is to Czar Vasili, the gods, and you."

"Very good." Ptolemy answered. "The weapons are just inside. Corinthian Assault Rifles, Kotov CQC rifles, WCSR marksman rifles, and WCMG SAWs. Most are designed for the standard Corinthian 7.62 x 51mm shell. You can find those near the back. The regular ones are on the left, and I managed to get a few boxes of the 'new' ones on the right."

"'New' ones sir?" one of the men asked, confused.

"Exploding rounds, private. They contain extra powder which ignites on impact, causing the shell to shatter and fragment inside its victim or blow right through their body armor. Extremely lethal. We try not to tell other countries we have them, but sooner or later they'll have to find out the hard way, right?" he snickered slightly before turning back to face the driver.

"There's something else." the driver reached into his vest and handed him a note. "Word got out about us...somehow. Our old pals are taking notice. It's from Wilhelm."

"Well, the Tribunal is saying that the news report is fake." The Emperor leaned back in his chair. "Can we believe them?"

General of the Air Force Salazar Sherman shoke his head. "Absolutely not, your majesty. We know that the footage is real. We have people in the Abyss whose job is to watch foreign news stations and report their findings. The program focuses mainly on isolationist nations who attempt to hide their atrocities from the world. This was how we got wind of things in the east."

"Wouldn't the governments of such nations attempt to block any feeds from reaching the outside world?" inquired General of the Army Nicolai Trotsky.

"There are methods to get around such barriers, none of which I'm at liberty to disclose." Sherman answered with a grin.

Emperor William sat up in his seat. "Well in any case, we caught the Tribunal in a lie."

He sighed. "Looks like I'll have to send another message. By the way, Admiral Augustine, make sure that Armada One holds its position. Maintain diver and minisub patrols. Take care of any immediate threats that may develop, but do not engage the West Corinthian forces unless I say so."

The Admiral of the Navy saluted. "Aye sir, it will be done. By the way, will this letter be open like the first one?"

Emperor William made a wicked grin. "Well, since they didn't say anything about the first time..."

Official Message from the Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire

I am disappointed by the response that you have given me. I expected you to be straight with a fellow ruler and not feed me lies.

And just so you know, that which I've heard about the current state of your nation is not the product of rumors. It is the result of exhaustive fact finding and information gathering. That and the fact that we have a recording of the actual news footage showing the protesting that took place.

From your response you have demonstrated yourself as being untruthful. Therefore I have no reason to trust what you say. Armada One will continue to hold it's position off your shores.

Signed,

Emperor William Kennedy
Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire
Crimean Peninsula
Yalta

----------

All along the western coast of the Czarist Republic, the 2300 ships of Armada One held their positions 55 miles off the shores of the isolationist nation. Divers and minisubs were patrolling the waters around the ships every hour of the day, and S-3 Vikings were making their rounds up and down the line of ships.

Nobody was sure what to expect here, but there was a consensus amoung the crews that something was going on in West Corinthia, something which would have a major impact on events not only in Czarist Republic, but in the Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire as well.

They were all waiting to see what that would be.

Inside the former Imperial Palace, Kydonia

In the depths of the magnificent Imperial Palace was the throne room. The priceless artifacts and jewels had long since been hidden by the Tribunal, and the area was now used as the meeting room of the twelve themselves. The location made sense, as it had been constructed with the purpose of being the center of government of West Corinthia.

A plain round wood table now occupied the space where once monarchs had made elegant displays of power. Seated around the table were 12 men in black robes bearing the the insignia of the Tribunal. These were the tribunes, the murderers of Czar Aleksei, and those who now held West Corinthia under a dark veil of mystery and intrigue.

"This situation will get worse before it gets better." War tribune Anatoli Foka stated in a near whisper. "If we don't act now, Wilhelm will only stick their noses deeper into our business. I propose we retaliate against their fleet. Teach them a lesson and they will never return."

"You are rash, Anatoli." Head tribune Demetrius Apostolis fired back. "An attack will only draw more attention. Perhaps these people can be reasoned with. Perhaps an unsanctioned military operation, maybe a bribe or two."

"Won't work either." said another tribune, shaking his head. "If there's one thing I know about Wilhelmsborough, it's that they're moralistic. They'll take no bribes, nor react to any unsanctioned operation in any manner other than a full-scale invasion of West Corinthia!"

"What do you propose, then? You dismiss other's ideas without offering any of your own!"

"We tighten our grip on the country. Make these rebels go away, and Wilhelm has no quarrel with us." The tribunes nodded their heads in agreement.

"It is agreed then. West Corinthia shall go into lockdown."

Streets of Kydonia, 10:30 p.m.

The speakers set up throughout the city buzzed to life before screeching this message:
"A curfew is now in effect. Citizens may not leave their homes, and have 30 minutes to return to their homes if they have not already done so. Violators may be shot and will be subject to arrest.

Many people fled to their homes, yet a defiant few remained. They gathered in Kydonia square in front of the Imperial Palace to protest the curfew. A media crew who had escaped the police filmed the mob from a nearby rooftop.

At 11:00 p.m. riot police approached the mob, whose numbers had swelled over the past 30 minutes to around 60 men. The riot police took aim at the crowd with assault rifles and issued a final warning, "return to your homes or be fired upon. The Tribunal shall enforce stability for the safety of all."

Rather than wait to be attacked, the crowd charged the group of police armed with 2x4's and broken bottles. Tear gas was thrown into the mob, which quickly dispersed and left many to be arrested. Around 15 of the protesters, bloodied from their short skirmish, were loaded into police vans. However, before the vans could depart for the Kydonia federal prison, something remarkable happened.

With a burst that sent scraps of rubber flying through the air, the tires of the police vans were shot out from under them one by one. Immediately men wearing old Republic-style Corinthian military uniforms opened fire on the vans from nearby buildings with Corinthian Assault Rifles and Corinthian SAWs.

Police had been attacked by Cult of Vasili members before, but usually they had never been armed with more than hunting rifles. These rebels had modern Corinthian military hardware, and what was more-the experimental Corinthian explosive ammunition. A policeman ran into the open square to return fire on a nearby building when suddenly a gaping hole ripped through his dragon-skin body armor and sent shearing metal fragments throughout his body. In a writhing heap the policeman collapsed. Three other policemen were neutralized in similar fashion when the remainder surrendered to the Vasili Cultists.

The first victory-albeit a small one- had been won for the Cult of Vasili. The media crew on the nearby rooftop had filmed the entire scene, and was now racing to get out of the city with their tape. The rebels below freed the civilians from the custody of the police and took their hostages away into the night.

Location: Port of Brundisium

The largest naval facility in West Corinthia was located in the city of Brundisium along the western shore. With the presence of Wilhelm's navy just off-shore, the base had been on high alert for some time now. A battle group was now being organized to confront the Wilhelm "invaders" and hopefully drive them off, perhaps be forced to board them.

A force consisting of eight destroyers, 4 light missile cruisers, three attack submarines, and a battleship was being armed and fueled within the safety of the harbor. They would be heading out to meet the force from the Wilhelm-Hatarian empire within a day, with plenty of air support as well as missile cover from launchers based along the shoreline.

The bulk of Corinthian naval power would remain either at harbor, protecting trade routes as usual, or stationed in overseas colonies.

Meanwhile, three armored divisions had been deployed to the Corinthian-Wilhelm border to strengthen homeland security and secure the already oppressively tight border.

OOC: Bump

Location: Strait of Kerch
Easternmost point of the Crimean Peninsula, and closest to West Corinthia

1st Lieutenant Mike Shapiro looked over the waters of the Strait of Kerch into the nation of West Corinthia. He could the city of Kavkaz from his position on the hill. It was in that city where West Corinthian soldiers were massing

The Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire had become aware of the West Corinthian soldiers by the Black Sea Patrol, when an EB-180 Stargazer, flying at an altitude of 125,000 feet had managed to catch the movement of troops and equipment on its scopes.

When informed of this development, the Military dispatched the 10th Army to the Strait of Kerch, which Shapiro was part of, as well as the 4th Air Fleet. Slowly, they took up defensive positions along their side of the water and prepared for the defense of the Peninsula, should it come down to that.

It was Shapiro's job to watch the situation in Kavkaz from his position on the hill. He wasn't alone however; he had with him a Battalion of 600 men on the hill with him.

Still, as he stood there on the top of that hill looking out towards West Corinthia through his binoculars, Lieutenant Shapiro was worried. These were West Corinthians for God's sake! Practically their neighbors!

"Let's hope nobody does anything stupid," he murmered. "Or at least let it not be us who makes the first move..."

----------------

Location: Armada One
On board the flagship Schadenfreude

At the Communications Station, the operator suddenly recieved a message.

"Sir, I've just recieved an encrypted transmission" said the Communications Operator.

Admiral of the Navy Vittorio Augustine hurried over. "What is it?"

"It's a message from the Black Sea Patrol, Admiral. It says that a small fleet has mobilized in the Port of Brundisium."

Images of West Corinthian ships in the Brundisium harbor appeared on the operator's screen.

"The officer that got these pictures believes that these are going to come out here to face our ships."

Admiral Augustine thought for a moment. Then he came to a decision.

"Well, we can't take any chaces. Move a few of the Phalanx-class Amphibious Assault Transports in front of the line. If this task force attempts to approach us, those ships will be the first that they meet."

"Aye sir. Relaying your orders now."

15 minutes later, sixty of the Armada's two hundred Phalanx-class Amphibious Assault Transports slipped forward and took up a position where they projected the West Corinthian task force would head.

Admiral Augustine shook his head. "What the heck are we doing here anyway?"

"Sir?" replied the confused radio operator.

"If West Corinthia is in isolation, then what should it matter to us anyway?" he said in frustration. "Their internal security problems are their own business. How should they affect us?"

Restricted Isle 10
“Strike 5, proceeded with caution.”

“Rodger that Hotel 1” whispered the Lieutenant into the com link. “Alpha squad, go.”

“Rodger that. Approaching the derelict now.”

The small, 10 man team approached the ragged hull, staying low to the ground in the waking dawn, searching for targets.

“Delta, go” ordered the lieutenant. The heavy machine gunners lugged there m312s, ready to drop at a moments notice. The hull sat there, a monument to an ancient era.

“Tenant, exterior is secure.”

“Rodger, Charlie Company, clear.”

More men emerged from the overgrowth, moving across the cracked, forgotten pavement that once held a small yet busy port facility. The buildings had long since fallen into decay, and the roofs of some had collapsed. Flora and fauna alike had their way with the facility. A team of twenty men ran from cover onto the ship, avoiding the collapsed sections of deck. It took 10 minutes.

“Derelict clear!”

That was the signal. The base up the road was in eerily good condition, and the runway looked like it could land planes with little difficulty. Soldiers in jungle camouflage, having been in the field for two days, crept to the tree line. None dared to cross into the open kill zone that marked Ennuisian bases. Sattelite scans had picked up nothing, but nothing had killed men before.

“Rooster, do you see anything?”

“Negative” replied the sniper detachment’s chief. “No sign of movement.”

The Brigadier General, Jacob Veronese, crouched in view of the base, his helmet zooming in on the front gate. “Night fox, go.” Beta Squad, third platoon, second company quickly moved across the zone, heads down, full sprint for the wall. By stroke of luck, they made it. More men appeared, surrounding the decrepit base. Some scaled the walls, holding position.

General Veronese walked to the center of the camp.

“What the fuck is going on here? Where are they?” A young private, most likely fresh out of training, came running up.

“Uh, sir…”

“What is it private?”

“We found bodies.”

In a flash, the General was at the barracks.

“Holy mother… REBREATHERS ON!” he shouted. The corpse was thoroughly dessicated, the flesh long gone. The uniform was black from ancient dried blood, but the logo was still visible: The Double Headed Eagle of West Corinthia, a nation that had come to Mer des Ennuis in its hour of need. The nameless skull still laid on the cot where it had died, the gnawed bones and uniform would normally indicate rats, but not even rats ate what this man died from… the broken teeth told the tale.

It would take Hazmat teams a week to bag the bodies, and the base was napalmed not an hour later, searing the ground. The ghosts and the wind were all that remained.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Office of the Arch Arsonist, Mer de Noms

“Today violence erupted in Kydonia as a mob…” read Adam Wincenty under his breath, before a buzzer interrupted him.

“Sir, a general is here to see you… name is Jacob Veronese?”

“Ah yes, send him in.”

The general walked in, his boots still muddy from the abandoned Corinthian base.

“Welcome general, have a seat.”

“Sir, if you don’t mind me being forthright-“

“Not at all.”

“What the fuck happened down there? We’ve counted two thousand!” he threw a number of grainy pictures onto the Arch Arsonist’s desk.

“General, you know as much as I do. We gave that base to the Corinthians an era ago, before the Kraven dogs came calling. Aurora was supposed to be contained, but we must have missed some of it… a milliliter perhaps.” The general recoiled. The Aurora Virus was a stain on Mer des Ennuis, a curse that God himself would have considered tasteless. “We lost contact with the Corinthians shortly after the war.”

“What should we do, sir?”

“General, there is only one thing we can do. We must return the Corinthian wardead to their native land. I will personally make the arrangements, and I would like your unit do escort their fallen.”

“Indeed, sir.”

Jacob stood, and saluted, before walking out. Adam poured himself a drink.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

To: The Government of West Corinthia
From: The Office of the Arch Arsonist
Re: A disturbing development

One week ago, we raided a derelict military base in the south of our nation, turned over to Corinthian forces during our hour of need. I am sad to say that we have found your soldiers. Dead. Two-thousand of them, lost shortly after the Kraven war. We have determined the cause of death to be a biological entity code-named Aurora, most likely released during reconstruction of the base. We are deeply sorry for this tragedy, but remain thankful that the disease was not spread. In the honor of the Ennuisians, we wish to return these war dead to their homeland. I have dispatched the light brigade that found them to escort your fallen, a naval group will arrive within the week.

God rest their souls. Glory and honor.

-Adam Wincenty
General of the Home Guard
Arch Arsonist of Mer des Ennuis
“Fear Ensures Loyalty!”
“All Glory to the Hypnotoad!”

Message to the Office of the Arch-Arsonist, Mer des Ennuis

This is a saddening turn of events indeed. We would appreciate the return of our soldiers as soon as you are able. You will, of, course, not mind if we perform an investigation of our own into the matter? It's not that we do not believe you, however due to your closeness with the former government of West Corinthia we believe it is necessary to examine all possibilities.

Signed,
Demetrius Apostolis, Head Tribune of West Corinthia

Location: Fort Dawn, just outside the city of Brundisium

A convoy of military trucks rolled through the first checkpoint of Fort Dawn as the early morning sun rose over the mountains in the east. The fort was on especially high alert considering the rising tensions just off the coast. As the lead truck passed a column of tanks, an attack helicopter prepared to land on a nearby helipad.

Under the camo tarp of the lead truck, Colonel Ptolemy loaded a clip of 9mm bullets into his sidearm and screwed on a silencer. He then holstered the weapon and fitted his officer's cap over his head. The six other men in the truck did the same. These six men were low-ranking Corinthian military officers, and all had proven their loyalty to Colonel Ptolemy in one form or another.

The convoy stopped once it reached the command center, a five-story office building which had been commandeered by the Tribunal and converted into a headquarters. Colonel Ptolemy and his group descended from the truck and gave the driver the signal to drive on. As if on official business, they walked briskly, yet calmly, into the command center.

The inside of the command center was buzzing with activity. Colonel Ptolemy and his men passed several checkpoints before reaching the stairs at the opposite end of the building. They stormed up five flights of stairs to reach the fifth floor, then drew their weapons and waited.

Meanwhile, a group of soldiers in the second truck had disembarked and planted a charge of C4 on an idling vehicle parked in front of a barracks. When the pre-arranged time came, the charge went off. A fireball danced into the morning sky as the empty shell of a car rolled onto its back. Immediately soldiers rushed to the scene, followed by firefighters.

Hearing the commotion below, the Colonel knew the distraction had been successful. One of his men kicked down the door to the fifth floor of the headquarters and everyone stormed through it. Two secretaries gasped as they spotted the armed intruders in the hallway, but were quickly silenced with a few quick, suppressed shots from the men. They hid the bodies in a closet and pressed on.

Finally they reached their objective: the office of General Antonius Avitus himself. Colonel Ptolemy led his men into the office, where a man in his late 50's sat smoking a cigar. The man was stocky, with graying hair and a rigid demeanor. The two guards in the office quickly drew their sidearms and Ptolemy and the others, who responded by aiming their guns back. The guards were notably shaken by the intrusion.

"Be still, men." Colonel Ptolemy addressed them. "This man is not worth dying for. He betrayed the Czar! He wears that Corinthian uniform, but he works for those Tribunal bastards!"

"Colonel Ptolemy." The General stood, his voice shaky. "Come to your senses, Valerius! The Czar was weak! He was not fit to rule. The Tribunal has kept us stable, they have kept us safe."

"They have oppressed us for three long years. Have you not seen the riots? I have seen them. I have seen that our country is falling apart. Ever since the Czars were killed, we have been on a slippery slope. Now I intend to push these Tribunal scum over the edge of the cliff." Valerius Ptolemy spat as he spoke the word "Tribunal." His anger could be read from his eyes alone.

The General's bodyguards slowly lowered their weapons.

"What are you doing?" the General demanded, retreating into the corner of the room.

"Ending this." Ptolemy raised his silenced pistol and shot the general in the head. He covertly left the building with his men and traveled to the communications building.

No investigation would be made. It was assumed the general had ordered his guards to leave and then committed suicide. By default, as the highest-ranking officer on the base, Colonel Ptolemy was promoted to General Valerius Ptolemy of the Corinthian army.


Meanwhile, the tape of the previous night's conflict between police and the cult of Vasili had surfaced on international news networks.

*video rolls*

We would like to warn our viewers, what you are about to see is extremely violent. This video was taken in secret by a group of journalists who have since fled the mysterious nation of West Corinthia. As you can see, a mob gathered in the city square in protest, allegedly to the curfew which had been put in place that night. Police arrived to disperse them, but immediately resorted to tear gas. After arresting several of the crowd, armed rebels attacked the police, taking several hostage and killing four, and freed the arrested protesters. Based on what little we know about the situation in West Corinthia, we can only assume that there is some kind of internal stability issue at hand.

To: Demetrius Apostolis, Head Tribune of West Corinthia
From: The Office of the Arch Arsonist
Re: A disturbing development

I must deeply apologize, but the site was napalmed to ensure that none of the biological entity existed at the former base. I have ordered all flags to half mast at government and army facilities. I must, however, express concern that this is not from the Czar. What has happened to him, and what is this “tribune?” None the less, I will allow a Corinthian investigative team to inspect the remnants of Facility 1921A on Restricted Isle 10.

-Adam Wincenty
General of the Home Guard
Arch Arsonist of Mer des Ennuis
“Fear Ensures Loyalty!”
“All Glory to the Hypnotoad!”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ville de Dieu, Western Docks

Brigadier General Jacob Veronese watched the polished oak coffins raised off of the freight train onto the large Gabin-class AKR of the lone amphibious assault group that could be mustered. Like the rest of his unit, he wore a full dress, his star split by a black band. The port bore a salty-oily smell from countless ships and infinite souls who had passed before. The Corinthian peoples were honorable, and had to be repaid in kind, if only by returning the sacred dead. The engraving of the caskets had not come close to being finished, and 100 local artisans had been contracted to ride with the fleet on a morbid race against time.

“Sir!”

“Yes sergeant major?”

“Sir, the men have finished boarding the transports.”

“Thank you Sergeant.”

“Sir, are you okay?”

”So many bodies…”

The General looked on into an other world. The fleet departed two hours later. Four days ‘till West Corinthia.

Message to the Office of the Arch-Arsonist

The Czar was weak, unfit to rule. I have deposed him, and established a fair government in his place. It is the goal of myself and the Tribunal party to ensure that West Corinthia adheres to the laws which keep her safe and stable. Our people are happier now, and live longer and more fulfilling lives. Such only shows it was time for a change in government.

Napalmed you say? How interesting. I must admit I find this situation highly suspect. Why was I not contacted by the soldiers in the base if they were infected with a "biological agent," as you claim? Perhaps the idea of a West Corinthian base in your territory did not sit well with you. Whatever is the case, we will get to the bottom of it.

Signed,
Demetrius Apostolis, Head Tribune of West Corinthia

OOC: Just so you know, he's a bit unbalanced.

Location: Corinthian Waters

The expeditionary force had been gathered, and had set sail to rendezvous with the Wilhelm navy. In the event of an incident, a complete air wing had been placed on high alert within striking distance of the fleet, and nearly 30 jets were already in the air just out of visual range trailing the Corinthian flotilla. In addition, shore-based missile platforms were at battle stations and had their anti-ship missiles ready to lock on to hostiles at a moment's notice.

Location: Fort Dawn

Acting-General Valerius Ptolemy sprinted into the communications building, with his personal escort trailing close behind. "I need you to send word to Kydonia. General Avitus is dead, and I am assuming command of this army regiment."

Taken aback, the communications officer responded with an uneasy, "alright."

"Also, I need a private line."

"In the back room." the officer pointed him in the proper direction, still startled.

"Thank you." General Ptolemy entered the back room and closed the door, first making sure that no one could listen to his conversation. "Now then..." he whispered to himself. "Phone book!" he pulled a monstrous phone book out of a nearby cabinet and flipped to the "W" section. Wilhelmsborough. "I sure hope they haven't changed their number in the past three years." he shook his head, noting that West Corinthia had essentially had no foreign communication since the Tribunal came to power.

Dialing the number to the government office in Wilhelmsborough, he waited for an answer.

To: Demetrius Apostolis, Head Tribune of West Corinthia
From: The Office of the Arch Arsonist
Re: A disturbing development

Not knowing anything about your history, I can assume you are familiar with your nation's aid during the Kraven wars. The logs show that, during the dark ages after that war, with tens of millions of Ennuisians dead, that a Corinthian light brigade continued to expand that base. We believe that in the weeks after this event, we lost contact with the base, along with the whole of West Corinthia. Due to recent military reforms, we needed the base, but our own laws decreed that the base was foreign soil.

After meeting with my chiefs of staff, we agreed that an armed reconnaissance party should be sent. We determined that the Aurora virus was unleashed, possibly as a result of the base’s expansion below ground. Records do not indicate that the area was a biological testing ground, but it is possible that the weapon was secretly hidden in the base before Corinthian forces had arrived.

The Aurora virus causes, among other things, autocannibalization. Several of the bodies showed signs of this, and we detected no vermin; they seem to avoid the victims. The Aurora virus is extremely virulent. I personally ordered the napalming of the island to ensure that the virus was eradiated. We furthermore treated the bodies themselves with ultra-high intensity UV light, though the virus had long since died in them.

We have ceased all investigations. You will naturally be authorized to send an investigative party, and we will cooperate fully, though much of the island has been burned away.

-Adam Wincenty
General of the Home Guard
Arch Arsonist of Mer des Ennuis
“Fear Ensures Loyalty!”
“All Glory to the Hypnotoad!”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jacob Veronese stood on the bow of the Endeavour amphibious assault ship, staring out into the darkling sea, his native land far behind him.

”Three days… two-thousand miles. These men died the wrong way.”

A strange sense of foreboding rushed over him like the waves that broke against the bow below him. He carried the dead into a land, he was sure, that would only bring more death.

Message to the Ennusian Office of the Arch Arsonist

If the island has been destroyed, it is doubtful an investigation will turn up anything. We shall need to quarantine the bodies before they enter Corinthian waters, as we would like reassurance that we would not be endangering ourselves by accepting them. A prison freighter will be dispatched to meet with your ship and receive the remains. Until then, we shall be keeping a close eye on your actions.

Signed,
Demetrius Apostolis, Head Tribune of West Corinthia

Location: Former Imperial Palace, Kydonia

"This doesn't sit well with me. Are you sure the bodies will not bring the disease back with them?" Vlassis threw back the hood of his cloak so that he could look upon Demetrius' face.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. That's what the quarantine is for. If any of the prisoners end up dead on that freighter, we'll know. Besides, it might not be a bad thing if trace amounts survived..." Demetrius smirked as he revealed his sinister plan.

"You can't mean-"

"This situation is spiraling out of control! Unleashing this disease could help us get the people back under our grip! Otherwise, we'll have to resort to stricter punishments for miscreants..."

OOC: interesting...

"Sir! General Veronese! Sir!"

"Yes sergeant?"

The general turned around, the wind from the ship nearly blew his beret off. The three “Ravager” dreadnoughts cruised onward, forming a protective shell around the Endevour assault ships, which in turn surrounded the death ship. The rest of the small fleet roared onward.

“Sir, orders from high command. We are to meet with a Prison ship and off load the coffins.”

“How far son?”

“600 nautical miles, the fleet’s already heading towards it.”

“How long?”

“20 hours, sir.”

The General stared off again, barely retaining the consciousness to salute the sergeant back.

Shortly after dawn, the advance ASW frigates detected the prison ship. Once word trickled down, Jacob Veronese went to the main flight deck. Three HV4n Goshawks, 1/6th of the assault craft, were revving up, ready to launch. Forty infantrymen and women, including five medics, stood at attention in full dress, their ranks covered in black bands, rifles and guns at their sides.

“Men, we’ve been ordered to make contact with a Corinthian ship, and we will supervise the offloading of the bodies. Logistics tells me it will take twenty hours. I do not need to tell you that we are the first Ennuisians to make contact with our friends in many years. Do not mess this up. Doctor McKenzitch, are the coffins ready?”

“Yes, sir!” shouted the medic over the roar, “We’ve hermetically sealed them all, and the engraving is nearly complete.”

“Where there any problems?”

“Sir, corpse 1152 had some soft tissue left. We’ve treated the body as the rest, but there is a chance that the body might have trace elements of Aurora.”

“Can we burn it?”

“No, Sir. Command has ordered all remains to be handed over to the Corinthians to quarantine, as per your previous orders as well.”

“Very well. Lets move.”

The fourty-one boarded the helicopters, and made way for the ship. They’d land in twenty.

The Black Sea Patrol was watching as the West Corinthian task force started to sail out of the Port of Brundisium, backed up by an air wing of armed aircraft. Things were beginning to get serious now.

From bases across Crimea, four squadrons of Su-27s, numbering twelve aircraft apiece, took off into the sky and rushed to join the four patrol groups monitoring air activity in the Black Sea. These aircraft consisted of 12 BAE Sea Harriers, 2 Su-27s, and an E-3 Sentry.

Eight Su-37s, also took off, and split into groups of two to join the four patrol groups.

A second squadron of EB-180 Stargazers, the “Sansenoy” Squadron, took off to join the “Senoy” Squadron at 150,000 feet in the sky. In addition, all three wings of F/A-35 Talons; Saber Wing, Rapier Wing, and Cutlass Wing, were launched into the sky and climbed to an altitude of 125,000 feet.

Three squadrons of LEOSF-1's were placed on their runways, but were ordered to standby.

And all of this was from the Black Sea Patrol. But this was not the only force that the Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire had dispatched to defend their nation.

Two wings of B-1b Lancers were deployed to the middle of the Black Sea, as were two wings of EB-180 Stargazers, who patroled the skies at 55,000 feet.

However, the bulk of Crimea's air defense would come from one thousand Su-37 Terminators, which were in the process of being deployed.

Along the line of Armada One, eight hundred Su-47 Golden Eagles, and two hundred S-3 Vikings had been launched into the air, and were holding the air above the line of ships.

As for the sixty Phalanx-class Amphibious Assault Transport Ships that had been send out to the front to meet the West Corinthian task force, they had been given new orders: When the West Corinthian ships got to within 30 miles of them, they were to spring into action and be ready by the time they came into view.

For now, the Plananx ships, and indeed all of Armada One, waited for the task force to reach that designated line.

----------

Meanwhile, back in Yalta...

Emperor William was with Generals Sherman and Trotsky working out the deployment of men and aircraft when suddenly the phone rang.

"Who the heck could be calling now?" the Emperor wondered out loud.

He looked at the caller ID and was surprised to see the country code for West Corinthia. But the number wasn't from the palace. This was someplace entirely different.

Who could this be? Well, there was one way to find out. The Emperor picked up the phone and put it to his ear.

"This is Emperor William Kennedy of the Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire. With whom am I speaking with?"

Location: Fort Dawn

Valerius was extremely pleased to see that the number for Wilhelmsborough had not changed since West Corinthia went into isolation. "I am General Valerius Ptolemy of the West Corinthian armed forces, and I need the support of your country. For three years West Corinthia has been left in the hands of maniacs and criminals- I speak of the Tribunal. They have murdered thousands in the secrecy of isolation, as well as suppressed any personal freedoms which we once enjoyed. The economy is broken, our armies restless, and I fear for our future."

He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. "I have a plan to end this," he continued. "I want to restore the monarchy, but I need the support of a foreign power. You were allies of Czar Vasili, but then the Tribunal destroyed his bloodline and tried to destroy his memory. I would restore it, as well as I am able. For now, you must not engage the naval forces now heading towards your fleet. I will do my best to draw them off, but I only recently took command and do not have high authority with regards to naval activity. Please, share your thoughts while we have this open line of communication."

Location: Former Imperial Palace, Kydonia

"General Avitus is dead." a messenger brought the news to lower Tribune Vlassis, who personally relayed it to Demetrius.

"What? Well, no matter. Avitus was an old fool, and I was considering him to be a scapegoat for some of our...less admirable actions. Do we have the killer?" Demetrius did not seem overtly upset by the information.

"No, sir. Avitus was found dead in his office and his bodyguards were nowhere to be found. Also, two secretaries were found dead in a closet just down the hallway-both civilians. A Colonel, Valerius Ptolemy, has taken Avitus' position."

"Very well, what do you know about this man?" Demetrius leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"He's very young for a general- about 30. He graduated from Kydonia Military Academy and has been in the army ever since. He has shown no disloyalty to the Party nor has he ever spoken ill of West Corinthia. In fact, he fought against Atopiana and Saint Fedski in the unification crisis."

"A war hero! Perfect! An inspirational figure is exactly what we need at a time like this! I want this man to receive the appreciation of the Party and West Corinthia. Have him promoted to Field Marshal, immediately!"

"Is that wise? We know nothing about him besides his official record..." Vlassis cocked his head questioningly.

"With our spy networks we would have sniffed out a potential threat in this man years ago. He has never even been in the vicinity of a Cult of Vasili member. Off with you, and do not question my authority again!" Demetrius had grown red in the face from anger, and promptly covered himself with his black hood. Without a word he retired to his chamber.

Location: West Corinthian waters

When the Corinthian flotilla had moved close enough to the Wilhelm navy, they came to a full stop. A small contingent of fighters circled overhead, less than 40 planes, but with enough on standby at various airfields to make even the most confident world leader double-take.

They only had to keep Wilhelm at bay for a relatively short period of time, for a complete carrier group was on its way to Brundisium from the open ocean. They would arrive within the week.

The leader of the Corinthian flotilla, the WCN Praetor, opened a channel with the Wilhelm naval forces. A modernized battleship, the Praetor carried four massive turrets which fired jet-assisted ammunition. She also wielded numerous cruise missile and anti-ship/anti-air missile banks along her massive gunnels. Though by no means a superdreadnaught, she packed a punch far beyond that of a conventional destroyer.

*transmission from WCN Praetor to Wilhelmsborough navy*

~These waters belong to the glorious Templar Tribunal of West Corinthia. Leave immediately or prepare to be boarded. It is not our desire to fight you, however our sovereignty is non-debatable. We advise you make preparations to return to your own waters at once. Please respond.~

Emperor William was silent as he listened to General Ptolemy. Then he put his hand on the reciever so Ptolemy wouldn't hear the order he was about to give.

"Contact Admiral Augustine. Tell him to pull back Armada One."

"What?!" General Trotsky protested "Are we givin up just like tha-"

"Tell him to do it slooowly" Emperor William said.

Trotsky stood silent in confusion at the Emperor's orders, but then realization dawned on him.

"It will be done Emperor." The General saluted and stepped out of the Emperor's office to make the call.

With that, William turned his attention back to the West Corinthian General.

"You say that you need our help in overthrowing the Tribunal? How do I know that this isn't a trick being laid by the Tribunal to try and justify an invasion of the Empire? I'm sorry if such a suggestion makes you mad, but I can't help but be suspicious of someone from West Corinthia simply calling out of the blue. How do I know I can trust you?"

-------------
Black Sea

Armada One gave no response to the West Corinthian task force, but the sixty Phalanx-class Amphibious Assault Transport Ships closest to the foreign navy started to pull back.

Other ships on the line also threw their engines into reverse and slowly began to move back into their own waters.

The keyword however, was slowly. For although the West Corinthians had ordered the Armada to leave, they had failed to mention the speed at which this was to be done. They were going to take advantage of this for as long as they could.

There was another reason for the slow pullout however. Emperor William wanted to see if this Ptolemy fellow was for real. If he was, then the Empire would probably have to pledge some military support, so any ships of Armada One still in the area would most likely be committed to fighting.

-------------
Dardanelles Strait

The 1st Submarine Group, which was part of the 1st Fleet, moved aside to allow the ships from Mer des Ennuis to pass through unimpeded.

Location: Fort Dawn

General Ptolemy rubbed his chin for a moment as he thought of a proper response. "I cannot deny that it would be characteristic of the Tribunal to use trickery as a means to further their own goals, however I can only give you my word that my loyalty belongs only to West Corinthia and the Czars. However, you do know that the Tribunal will deny any evidence that there is unrest in the country. I supplied the rebels who last week took several policemen hostage and killed four others. It was an unfortunate engagement, but was necessary to demonstrate my point- that the Tribunal is weakening."

A man in a black robe entered the communications building. He was a lower party member of the Tribunal, and he held an envelope in his hands. "I must speak with General Ptolemy, at once." he ordered the guard at the entrance. The guard pointed to the private communications room in the rear of the building. The robed man glided silently towards the location.

One of Ptolemy's bodyguards stopped the robed man before he could approach the door, within which Ptolemy's treasonous conversation was being made.

"I must speak with Valerius Ptolemy. Step aside at once!" the robed man ordered him coldly.

A shiver went up the soldier's spine, but he was under orders from the General. "He is in the middle of a private conversation, you will have to wait."

"His private dealings come before those of the Party? Will you allow me to see him now or shall I report you both to my superiors?"

"I'll see if he's finished..." the soldier ducked inside the private room, keeping his eye on the robed Party member. "Finish up, there's a Party member here to see you. He has a letter for you."

Ptolemy glanced back, the phone receiver still to his ear. "A Party member? Here? Shit. This line is secure!"

"I don't think he knows what we're doing, but he wants to see you nonetheless."

"Tell him I will see him in a moment."

Location: West Corinthian waters

The flotilla watched as the ships of the Wilhelm task force kicked their engines into reverse and began their slow withdrawal. Aboard the WCN Praetor, the captain laughed. "These guys have balls." he said. "They're looking down the barrels of enough firepower from land, sea, and air to blow them out of the water before they could even get a shot off and, they're taking their gods damned time. Brilliant!"

"Do we have orders to pursue?" his ensign asked.

"I assume they won't mind if we shadow them until they are out of Corinthian waters. Maybe buzz them with a fly-by or two. Actually, let's try and freak them out by conducting a 'simulation.'" the captain smiled to himself and lit a cigar.

"What do you have in mind, sir?"

The captain pondered this for a moment. "What would make them want to get out fast? I've got it! A Delta-7 simulation! That will make them churn some wake!" he blew a perfect smoke ring as he gave the order.

Immediately the lead submarine of the flotilla dove beneath the ocean surface. Then, six helicopters launched from the Corinthian destroyers and flew toward where the submarine had submerged. They began to drop sonar buoys around the area and moved steadily toward the Wilhelm task force. After several minutes of pinging, the helicopters began dropping small torpedoes. The torpedoes detonated remotely after being dropped, sending plumes of water gushing into the air.

As if in surrender, the submarine surfaced a moment later. Smoke appeared to be coming from the conning tower. All hatches flipped open and the crew began spilling out onto the deck. On the mast, they raised communication flags, a universal naval language. The flags gave the code for, "Nuclear meltdown inevitable."

Emperor William raised an eyebrow in interest. Ptolemy seemed like an earnist fellow, or at least that's how he what trying to convince him. But he was also a man from a repressive isolationist nation. How could he trust him.

And then, the Emperor had an idea.

"Alright then General Ptolemy," he began. "I might be willing to believe you. But first you have to prove to me that you really are a resistance member. So this is what I want you to do..."

The Emperor leaned back in his chair as he continued. "Next Friday, around one o'clock, I want your resistance group to blow up a monument dedicated to Tribunal rule. Any monument will do. And don't forget to film it as well. If you do this, then I will believe that you are indeed against the Tribunal, and I will support your movement to restore the Czar."

Emperor William sat up in his seat. "Do we have a deal, General Ptolemy?"

----------------

"WHAT THE HELL?" shouted Admiral Augustine as he recognized the signals being made by the submarine crew.

"FULL REVERSE!" he yelled at the helm. "Get us out of here NOW!"

He turned to one of the communications officers.

"Order all ships in close proximity to that sub to get the hell out of there as fast as they can!"

"Aye sir!" he replied.

"Sir!" shouted the second communications officer. "I've just recieved a message from the Black Sea Patrol!"

"Can it wait? We're a little busy here!" the Admiral yelled back.

"Sir, this is important! Stargazer #34 observed that very submarine being flown over by attack helicopters from the West Corinthian fleet!"

Upon hearing this, Admiral Augustine paused. "...what?"

The communications officer continued. "Yes sir. Stargazer #34 also reports large waves circling outward from underneath them, as if something was dropped from the sky into the water.

The Admiral raised his eyebrow. "That submarine looked pretty banged up. Perhaps they dropped explosives?"

The XO walked over. "Sounds suspicous, their helicopters going after their own ships."

The Admiral started to calm down a bit. "Or maybe it was to get us out of here faster. We are deliberately moving quite slow. On the other hand, perhaps this was mutany. I've heard that many West Corinthians want to escape the reign of the Tribunal."

"So did the crew try to mutany, or is this a trick?" pressed the XO.

The Admiral shook his head. "What ever it is, I'm taking to chances. All ships in that area are ordered to pull out as fast as their engines can take them."

Augustine furrowed his brow. "Still, with all this information, I can't help but wonder..."

He turned to the second Communications officer.

"Contact the Black Sea Patrol. Tell them to follow the actions of the West Corinthian task force. If they're just idling around, then this is probably a trick. At which point I'm going to be royally pissed off."

"What about the chance that this is for real, sir? Do we just leave that Submarine crew to die?"

"Like hell!" shouted the Admiral. "Send rescue choppers to pick up as many people as possible before the supposed meltdown occurs."

"Yes sir! Relaying the orders now!"

Five Blackhawk Helicopters bearing a hospital insignia took off from a few retreat Oliver Hazard Perry-class Anti-Submarine Escort Frigates and raced towards the crew on top of the smoking submarine.

Location: West Corinthian waters

The captain of the WCN Praetor smiled as he looked through his binoculars. "Almost too easy." He handed the binoculars to his XO and returned to the bridge.

"Captain, wait!" the XO waved the captain back to the edge of the ship.

"What is it?"

"Now they're sending helicopters to the sub. Should we maintain our charade?"

"I suppose we might as well. If they find out this early, they won't have moved very far away. You take care of it, I need to speak with our political officer." the captain turned again and left the XO.

The submarine crew glanced around nervously. They knew the nuclear meltdown was a fake, but were unsure how to handle the Wilhelm helicopters now approaching them. Now a signal light from the WCN Praetor began flashing morse code, bright enough for all parties to see. The morse code read:

Abandon ship at once. Use life rafts and vacate the area.

The sub captain had already been briefed on how to reply via encrypted channels. He signaled back:

Crew to abandon ship. Captain and officers to submerge and scuttle the vessel.

Black inflatable rafts popped up across the deck of the sub. The crew members piled into these rafts and launched into the open water. A moment later, the sub went under, still venting smoke from the smoke grenades that had been thrown onto its deck.

Location: Fort Dawn

"This Friday, agreed." General Ptolemy answered. "I think the statue of 'Demetrius overthrowing Czar Aleksei' in the center of Kydonia should suffice. The arch of Vasili Kotov once stood there. Now I must leave, but I may contact you again in the near future."

The General hung up the phone and walked out of the private room. His bodyguards stepped out of his way as he approached the Tribunal Party member. "I am General Valerius Ptolemy. What is your purpose for being here?"

"I am here to ensure that the army transfers loyalty to you smoothly. I know General Avitus was not particularly well-liked, though his loyalty to the Tribunal was unwavering. You seem to be popular enough around here. I am also here to present you this." he handed Valerius the envelope. "Inside you will find the gold bars of a Field Marshal. Congratulations."

Ptolemy was taken aback. His plan had only required him to become a General, but a Field Marshal controlled all branches of the armed forces. This way, much bloodshed might be avoided. "Thank you. I can only hope to inspire the men with the same level of loyalty to the Tribunal that General Avitus had."

"I'm sure you will." with a sneer and a flash of robes the Party member disappeared from view.

"What did that mean?" a soldier asked Ptolemy.

"I don't know, but we need to accelerate our plans, and I need to go to Kydonia."

The massive ships of the 13th Assault Group plowed through the waters, surrounding the prison ship that now carried an additional 2,000, unloaded from the Gabin Class. The Caucus mountains loomed far on the horizon, and little dots of light speckled the barren view. The procession marched ever onwards, pausing only for the EMN “Keystone” to fire a volley in salute at the Wilhelmsborough Navy.

“Sir.” A 1st Lieutenant this time.

“Yes, Lieutenant.” General Veronese hadn’t moved in hours from the bow, and didn’t turn to address his inferior. The General, nay, the entire crew, had a sense of foreboding. A storm was gathering on the horizon, and the sky was blood red.

“Sir, we have not spoken to the Corinthians, except for the transfer. The Admiral wants us to contact the Corinthians.”

The General looked down at the abyss.

“Sir?”

“Leave me.”

“Do you want a pen? A laptop?”

“Laptop is fine. Have the men ready to present arms, we’ll make port before sunset.”

“Yes, sir!”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

To: Demetrius Apostolis, Head Tribune of West Corinthia
From: 849th Light Division, 2nd Brigade Command
Re: Arrival

We have escorted your dead almost 4,000 miles to the black sea. We request, in the spirit of camaraderie, that my men and I continue escorting the fallen to their graves, and that the sailors of the 13th Assault Group be given shore leave in West Corinthia.

I have furthermore been advised that coffin 1152 might be contaminated, and should not be opened. Please advise, we expect to make port in twelve hours.

-Jacob Veronese
Brigadier General
849th Light Division, 2nd Brigade
“Fear Ensures Loyalty!”
“All Glory to the Hypnotoad!”

Location: Former Imperial Palace, Kydonia

"The Ennusians are here." Vlassis pushed the communique under Demetrius' nose, as they were sitting across from one another at the meeting table. "They want to escort the bodies to the graveyard, and shore leave in our lands."

"Totally unacceptable, given our present situation." Demetrius scoffed at the remark, almost choking as the words came out.

With a much smoother tone which comes only from youth, Vlassis replied, "Would it be unacceptable? They might see our refusal as proof that we're hiding something."

"What do you have in mind, my apprentice?" Demetrius glanced up, pulling back the dark hood of his robe so that he could see Vlassis' face.

"That they be given restricted shore leave and that we cover up whatever we must at the cemetery. That would seem perfectly understandable to them, I'm sure."

"Do it then, and get out of here! If one of those Ennusians leaves the restricted area, I want him killed! I don't care if it takes us to war!" Demetrius immediately had a severe bout of coughing. His health was failing. A combination of age coupled with stress and severe corruption of power had led the former tyrant to become a crazy old fool who was only capable of barking orders to his second-in-command, Vlassis.

Message to Ennusian Forces

Very well. Your sailors may take shore leave in designated zones of the coastal city of Brundisium. We must stress that violation of the boundaries of these zones will result in the severest punishment. When ready, the bodies will be brought to Brundisium national cemetery for burial. Your sailors will be brought to the cemetery to participate in ceremonies, if they so wish. An armed guard will be present for every four sailors, to ensure that no incidents take place. Do I make myself clear?

Signed,
Anatoliy Vlassis, Tribunus Secundus of West Corinthia

Admiral Augustine and the XO watched the scene from the deck of Armada One's flagship, the Schadenfreude.

"Son of gun," Remarked Admiral Augustine. "They're sinking their own sub!"

"If the meltdown was a trick, they're really making the loss of a ship look real." said the XO.

Admiral Augustine smiled. "Perhaps I won't get so angry after all. The West Corinthians lost a submarine without a shot fired!"

The XO laughed. "You can bet that the Tribunal won't like that! Heads are going to be rolling over that one!"

----------

Meanwhile, out on the water, the Blackhawk Helicopters were flying over the life rafts carrying the West Corinthian submarine crew.

None of the crews knew that Admiral Augustine and the XO had surmised that the meltdown was a fake. All they knew was that they had to get these divers as far away from the submarine as they could before catastrophe hit.

"ATTENTION WEST CORINTHIANS. WE ARE SENDING DOWN RESCUE TEAMS TO PULL YOU OUT OF THE WATER. ONCE THIS IS ACCOMPLISHED WE WILL DELIVER YOU INTO WEST CORINTHIAN HANDS."

Rescue divers began to lower down towards the water.

------------

Meanwhile, far away from the action, a Kirov-class Battlecruiser fired off a volley to return the salute given by the fleet from Mer des Ennuis.

------------

Emperor William hung up the phone and turned to Generals Trotsky and Sherman.

"What's the situation, sir?" asked Sherman.

The Emperor leaned forward in his chair. "Gentlemen, we have a revolution to plan..."

Adam Wincenty read the note, the stub of his Fleur de Mer cigar fell from his mouth.

"My my my how times have changed."

"Indeed, sir General” spoke Kaspyr Wojtek, “though I do not think this has to do with the outbreak.”

“Neither do I.” Adam crumpled the note up, throwing it across the small office into the hallway.

“Perhaps the Wilhelmsboroughans naval presence has them on edge.” Admiral Ivan Andrei leaned forward, stubbing his cigar on the gold ashtray at the Arsonist’s desk. “We have had no quarrel with them, and I’ve heard word that they returned the friendly salute.”

“What do you suggest Ivan?”

“We could send a short-range signal to their ships, send out the feelers, if you know what I mean.”

“Sounds good Ivan. Kaspyr, what do you suggest that we do about these measures? I can’t have a trigger happy Corinthian kill my servicemen, and unlike Lerasia, we might not win a shooting war with the Corinthians.”

“A shooting war, sir?” scoffed General Wojtek.

“It saddens me to say that, but it might be a very real possibility.”

Wincenty stood up, and faced the Republican Square outside his window, and sighed.

“Something very wrong is going on in the land of the Corinthians. Draft a response for General Veronese, and make contact with the Wilhelmsborougans. Kaspyr, make preparations for deployment of at least one corps in one weeks time should relations sour any more. While they are our friends, our first order of loyalty is to ourselves.”

He turned back.

"How did it come to this?" he asked. No answer was given.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

A Crocodile Class Littoral Combat Ship with line of sight with one of the Wilhelmsborough ships sent a brief message.

“ENNUISIAN COMMAND IS ENTERING WEST CORINTHIAN WATERS STOP SUSPECT SOMETHING IS WRONG IN WEST CORINTHIA STOP REQUEST FACE TO FACE MEETING STOP SEND REP IN HELICOPTER TO EMN DDN-4 TROGDOR STOP”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

To: The Tribunal of West Corinthia
From: 849th Light Division, 2nd Brigade Command
Re: Arrival

While I am pleased to receive word that we are indeed granted permission to enter Corinthian waters, I must express reservations at the message’s wording. You treat us as if we were a terrorist invading army! I furthermore am at a loss as to why an armed guard is necessary for men who would give their lives for their friends in arms in the Corinthian army. The sailors will have no part in this, short of purchasing your drink and socializing with your peoples.

The men of the 849th have Honor, and, like many in Mer des Ennuis, have seen the valor of your forces. Such a message leaves a stain on this immaculate reputation.

-Jacob Veronese
Brigadier General
849th Light Division, 2nd Brigade
“Fear Ensures Loyalty!”
“All Glory to the Hypnotoad!”

The Captain of the Kirov-class battlecruiser ordered the message to be sent to the Schadenfreude.

-------

"Sir we're getting a message from the Battlecruiser Dagoth. They say that the Ennusians have made contact, and would like to discuss the situation in West Corinthia. They're asking us to send a representative."

The XO turned to Admiral Augustine. "If we meet with them, there might be a chance we could get them on our side."

"Indeed." The Admiral nodded.

"But who will be the representative?" wondered the XO.

"I will." said Admiral Augustine. "There's noone here with a better understanding of the situation than me."

He turned to the helm. "Set a course for the Ennusian fleet!"

"Aye sir!"

At once, the engines on the mighty Intrepid-class supercarrier kicked into forward gear and headed on a southerly course, pushing through the Black Sea waters to meet up at the designated meeting point.

Location: West Corinthian waters

"This charade has gone on quite long enough. If Wilhelmsborough has not yet realized our deception, they are in for an embarrassment." the captain of the WCN Praetor lowered his binoculars and turned to his XO, his cigar burning its last breath. "Signal the Valiant, have them surface and pick up their crew before rejoining the fleet."

"How will Wilhelm respond?" the XO inquired as he picked up a radio transmitter.

"We'll see very soon." the captain responded, and threw the stub of his burnt out cigar over the railing of the ship.

About half a kilometer away, the WCN Valiant Corinthian attack submarine shot out of the water as quickly as it had submerged. The sight of a submarine rapidly surfacing is always a spectacle to behold, but this particular occasion was lacking the proper mood to make it truly entertaining. The sub merely glided over to the crew and the captain appeared on deck with a megaphone.

"The situation has been contained! The naval forces of Wilhelmsborough will continue their departure from Corinthian waters as previously agreed!"

With this message, the life rafts began paddling toward their ship.

Location: Kydonia, West Corinthia

The night was quiet. A yellow-coded curfew had all citizens confined to their homes, and only the sound of marching police boots broke the otherwise perfect silence. Past a patrol of eight police men glided four shadowy figures. Field Marshal Ptolemy ducked into an alleyway to avoid the vigilant eyes of the Tribunal police. He wore full black, including face paint, to help him blend into the night. The lack of street lights helped to make his infiltration of the city easier.

He and his accomplices were near the center of the city. The towering Imperial Palace stood before them. Unlike the rest of the city, the Palace was lit like a Christmas tree. Cameras, dogs, innumerable guards, and security systems had turned the once-beautiful structure into an impenetrable fortress. Luckily, their target for tonight was not inside the Palace, but in its courtyard.

Ptolemy poked his head out of the alley and whipped out a pair of binoculars. He observed that the statue of Demetrius Apostolis had only two guards, and that most of the guards were protecting the doors and windows of the actual palace. The palace itself was set back behind a great courtyard, at the center of which was the statue.

Just then a flashlight shone of Valerius Ptolemy's head. "Freeze! You are under arrest for violating curfew! Come with us peacefully, or else!" A patrol of Tribunal guards had found them.

Ptolemy rose slowly, hands behind his head. "Do you know who I am?" he asked with a commanding tone. "I am Field Marshal Valerius Ptolemy of the Corinthian armed forces."

"Why are you out, so late, in the middle of Kydonia? Who are these men with you?" the commanding officer of the Tribunal guard patrol pointed his flashlight's beam on Ptolemy's accomplices. "Sneaking into palace grounds?"

"Actually, to blow up the statue of Demetrius Apostolis. He is scum and I am going to kill him, because my loyalty is to the Czar!" Ptolemy reached behind his back and drew a silenced 9mm pistol.

Simultaneously, the Tribunal guards rose their Corinthian Assault Rifles. Just as the leader of the guards turned to call for backup, another guard grabbed him from behind and snapped his neck. Three other guards suffered similar fates, except one whose mouth was covered as another guard stabbed him in the spine with a knife. Four guards lay dead on the ground, another four standing. They lowered their weapons. "We also loved the Czar. We want to join you. We can also help you blow up the statue. Take their uniforms and come with us."

Ptolemy smiled and changed into one of the dead guard's uniforms. Together, they formed a new patrol and walked onto Palace grounds unimpeded. The men who had just joined up with Ptolemy knew the two guards at the statue, and convinced them to join him as well. Once there, Ptolemy opened his backpack and pulled out two pounds of C4 plastic explosive. He planted it around the base of the statue, set a timer, and ran off with his group to the rooftop of an apartment building overlooking the Palace courtyard.

One his men set up a tripod and mounted a video camera. Then the man pressed record.

Ptolemy stood before the camera with a Corinthian Assault Rifle in hand. "I am Field Marshal Valerius Ptolemy of the West Corinthian armed forces. I love my country, I loved the Czars, and tonight I am going to take from the Tribunal what they took from me- my peace of mind." He turned to look over the Palace courtyard. Immediately a large explosion rattled the hotel, and shot a fireball into the night sky behind the Field Marshal. Where once the gold-inlaid marble statue of Demetrius Apostolis had stood, now stood a smoldering crater in the earth.

"Good, turn the camera off and let's get out of here!" The sirens of police cars could already be heard in the distance, and the Palace guards were swarming like a hornet's nest.

Once safe, the Field Marshal sent a copy of the tape along with his secure cell phone number via messenger to the government of Wilhelmsborough.

Tribunal message to Mer des Ennuis

Despite however you may view yourselves, we must maintain the security of West Corinthia. No foreign visits have been granted for nearly three years, so you should consider yourselves lucky to have the opportunity. Cruisers will be waiting in the harbor to escort your men to shore.

Signed,
Vlassis, Secundus Tribunus

"The Wilhelmsboroughans (ooc: is that the right adjective?) certaintly don't understand what 'helicopter means,' do they sir?"

"No sailor, they do not" said the man who would not be found in any database spoke in a flat tone. "Get me an HV4, no guards." Despite

"Yes, sir!" The captain pivoted, and walked away briskly.

The helicopter was in the air in five minutes, and would land on the Intrepid soon after.

The helicopter skimmed the water, landing on the carrier. The man stepped off, his black trench coat flaring. It drizzled.

"Who I am is not important, but you can call me Art Vanderlay, Ennuisian State Security Administration. Take me to your representative, I need to know everything you know about the Corinthian situation."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The flotilla sailed on, firing a welcoming shot to the Corinthians; the booms of the Ravagers’ massive 27” guns could be heard for miles. Jacob Veronese walked down the gangplank, flanked by five other men in full dress, while the men and women of the army and navy lined the railings of the ship.

Jacob saluted the waiting Corinthians.

“A grateful nation appreciates your countrymen’s sacrifice.”

The WCN Praetor fired a volley in response to the Ennusians, since it seemed to be their custom.

In the harbor, a large contingent of Corinthian soldiers waited at the base of the gangplank of the Ennusian ship. A man in a black hooded robe stood out at the front of this group of soldiers. His face was covered in shadow by his hood, and he seemed to be radiating an evil presence. He approached the Ennusian named Jacob Veronese and said, "I am Phaedrus Tiberius, a high-ranking member of the Tribunal. It is my duty to monitor your stay here, so forgive me if I seem...tense." He did not bother to look up at Jacob's face. In fact, if it hadn't been for the glint of his eyes beneath the black hood, it would have been nearly impossible to know that Phaedrus even had a face, or was human.

The helicopter skimmed the water, landing on the carrier. The man stepped off, his black trench coat flaring. It drizzled.

"Who I am is not important, but you can call me Art Vanderlay, Ennuisian State Security Administration. Take me to your representative, I need to know everything you know about the Corinthian situation."



The Captain of the Schadenfreude, who had been sent to meet the Ennuisian representative, replied, "Right this way, Mr. Vanderlay. Admiral Augustine will see you immediately."

------------------

Meanwhile, the crews of the five rescue helicopters were shocked to see the same submarine that had sunk beneath the waves rise up again.

"Wait a minute, wasn't that thing supposed to have melted down by now?" radioed one pilot to another.

"Beats me," replied the second pilot. "Perhaps they got the situation under control?"

As the submarine headed back towards its crew in the life rafts, they heard the captain speaking through a megaphone.

"The situation has been contained! The naval forces of Wilhelmsborough will continue their departure from Corinthian waters as previously agreed!"

The helicopter pilots were at a loss for words. They were totally confused as to what had just happened. But as there was no threat from the sub, and the crew was safe, there was nothing more they could do here.

The helicopters turned and headed back towards their ships. As they were heading back, the lead pilot relayed a message to the Schadenfreude.

"The situation is contained. The submarine is safe, and its crew is reboarding. There was nothing more for us to do here, so we are returning to our ships. Over and out."

----------

When Admiral Augustine heard this message, his face turned red with rage.

"They tricked us!" he yelled, causing half the CIC to jump in surprise. "This was all just a trick to get us out of their waters! By simply raising that submarine out of the water, they've revealed this to be a sham!!"

"Are you going to retaliate, sir?" asked the XO

The Admiral started to calm down as he remembered that he had seriously considered going after the West Corinthians if this incident was truly a charade.

"I know I said that I was going to be angry," said the Admiral, carefully choosing his words, "but that was before I learned that there was an Ennuisian fleet nearby! Suppose that us and the Corinthian ships had started firing at each other. Would the Ennuisians get caught in the crossfire? Would they declare war on the Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire? Or worse, would they declare on both the Empire and West Corinthia?"

Admiral Augustine shook his head. "No. I can't risk getting others in the middle of this situation. However, perhaps we can convince the Ennuisians to side with us should things come to blows."

"Well, their representative's helicopter is coming now." said the XO pointing into the sky. Sure enough the dark shape of a helicopter was headed towards the supercarrier.

"Wait, what?" the Admiral said confused. "I thought that I was going to see them!"

The XO chuckled. "I guess they really wanted to see you, sir!"

"Not funny." Augustine grumbled. "Well, I better get ready to meet him."

The Ennuisian helicopter landed, the representative came out, the Captain escorted him to the briefing room.

As the Ennusian representative entered the room, Admiral Augustine was standing there ready to greet him.

"You must be Art Vanderlay, the representative from Mer des Ennuis." he said extending his hand. "I am Admiral of the Navy Vittorio Augustine. How may I be at your service?"

Jacob looked down at the unusual man, his face remained stone.

“I am General Jacob Veronese. I found your men in their present state. It is a loss to us all, and their sacrifice for our nations has not been forgotten. I must confess: my nation is ignorant of your current political climate. My men are at your service, and we have no problem being shadowed. Might I ask how long the bodies will be in quarantine for? We’ve already sealed the caskets, there should be no delay.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“Admiral” spoke “Art”, shaking the Admiral’s extended hand with his gloved, in an unnervingly calm voice, “men in my profession do not often have the luxury of indecisiveness. The situation in West Corinthia has us worried, and we did not expect to find a naval stand-off in progress. Wilhelmsborough would not be this involved if they did not know something. My time is short, and I will be blunt. What do you know about the West Corinthian question, Admiral Augustine?”

Location: Brundisium

Phaedrus crossed his arms, face still veiled by his black hood. "The Head Tribune has waived the quarantine he previously ordered. My men will inspect each casket, and then they will be unloaded. Your men may disembark at any time. For now, they will be restricted to within half a kilometer of this pier. There should be plenty for your men to do within that area, as this is was once a popular area of tourism." He then remembered what General Veronese had said about the political climate of West Corinthia. In response, he merely stated, "And do not worry about our 'political climate.' Things are more stable now than ever."

Location: Yalta, Wilhelmsborough

A messenger arrived at the gate to the Wilhelmsborough government building. He appeared to have been traveling for several days, with very little sleep. Besides his general appearance, he wore only a Corinthian military uniform, but was unarmed. The uniform was not a Tribunal one, but an old Republican army uniform- a myrmidon's uniform at that. He carried a package, and awaited someone to receive him.

Admiral Augustine nodded gravely.

"You are correct to assume that there is something wrong in West Corinthia," he said. "The Tribunal came to power immediately after the assassination of Czar Alexsai. In fact, it was the Tribunal that engineered the Czar's death. When the Tribunal came to power, they broke off diplomatic relations with the world and entered isolation."

The Admiral continued. "Over the past few days, Principality Intelligence has been getting reports of protests and riots breaking out across the nation. They are also hinting of a rebellion seeking to overthrow the Tribunal. I've been told they have infiltrated the Corinthian military."

Admiral Augustine decided not to mention that there could be a few high-ranking officers involved in the rebellion, or that the Emperor was seriously considering aiding them.

The Admiral looked out the window towards West Corinthia. The Caucasus mountains could be seen in the distance.

"Personally, I believe that a West Corinthia that's open to the world is better than a West Corinthia that closes itself off."

The Admiral looked at Mr. Vanderlay. "Well, that's the situation as I know it. The only people that would know more would probably be the Emperor and his Senior Staff. If you so desire, I could attempt to get you an audience with Emperor William, but I can't guarentee that you'd get to meet him."

--------------
Location: Livadiya Palace, Yalta

The guard in charge of watching the cameras watched as a man approached the front gate of the palace. People coming up the gate wasn't unusual. Demonstraters often stood in front of the gate to block the flow of traffic moving in and out of the palace.

However, there weren't any demonstrations scheduled for today, there was just this one man.

Oh well, thought the guard. Must be some guy who isn't right in the head. Probably harmless anyway.

He was about to turn away from the screen when he noticed the suit that the man was wearing.

Was that a military uniform? The guard looked closer. Hey, that is a military uniform! But it's not one of ours. Actually...it looks more like-

Then he saw the package in the uniformed man's hand.

Immediately, the guard sprung into action and reached for a telephone.

"We got a suspicious individual in a West Corinthian military uniform out at the front gate. He has a suspicious looking package in his hand. Send security immediately!"

With that, the palace defenses went into action. A 1st Lieutenant, along with two Squads of 10 soldiers a piece went down to the gate to confront the man.

As they approached the gate, the Lieutenant ordered a squad to take position up on a nearby hill overlooking the gate. They had good position to attack should anything go wrong.

The Lieutenant and the remaining Squad marched down to the gate, on the other side of which, the man in the foreign military outfit was standing.

The Lieutenant moved to address the man. "Sir, what is your business here?"

Location: Yalta, Wilhelmsborough

The ex-myrmidon standing near the gate rolled his eyes as he watched dozens of Wilhelmsboroughan soldiers spring into action around him. He let out a slightly irritated sigh and crossed his arms as he waited to be greeted. Finally a man approached him, albeit cautiously. He noticed the man's rank from his uniform. "There is no need for alarm, Lieutenant. I am but a messenger. I bear word from my General Valerius Ptolemy of West Corinthia, along with a simple tape requested by your emperor himself."

As he began to get his temper under control, he finished with, "I apologize for coming to you this way, but with the current situation in West Corinthia, there are few secure means of communication, and fewer ways to transport items without them being intercepted by the Tribunal."

He held his arms out like wings and spun in a slow circle to show that he was unarmed, and had only the package in his hands and the uniform on his back. Anyone who knew a Corinthian myrmidon would know that they were the pinnacle of loyalty, and often above deception.

“I’m afraid that an audience with Emperor William is ill advised” spoke the man in a smooth-as-butter voice, “Time is short Admiral, and time is something we all need more of. News of the death of the Czar is troubling, and the riots are doubly so.”

He paused, reading the Admiral through jet-black lenses.

“Riots and rebellions go hand-in-hand, and seldom pass with much notice. Why the battle fleet? The black sea has been devoid of piracy for centuries. Either your Emperor seeks to overthrow the government, or quell the rebellion, you’ve committed too many resources for there to be a third option. Who is your contact, Admiral. I will need to speak to them.”

“Art” paused for a second.

“You do not know who I am, and I hope for your sake this is the last time you see me, but I can offer you this: Mer des Ennuis has landed men in a port and has a navy docked there. We will take no action in the short run regardless, but, should we determine your interests are in line with ours, you may infiltrate through these channels. Time is short, decide quickly.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Stability is nothing without honor, Phaedrus Tiberius” spoke Jacob, looking through the Tribunal representative. “You may accompany the sailors and my men, but do not go looking for a fight. We have no quarrel with you. Custom dictates that I offer you a drink of Vodka.”

Another gangplank was lowered, and a contingent of soldiers and sailors left to scout out the area. The sailors kept visible PDWs on their belts, while the soldiers carried much more visible carbines around their dress-uniforms.

“I’m sure you know, Phaedrus, that in Mer des Ennuis, we believe in peace through superior firepower. That being said, I have ordered weapons unloaded at all times, unless absolutely necessary. Furthermore, I have assigned a contingent of sailors and an honor guard to aid in the unloading. They will begin at your discretion.”

A foghorn from a harbor tug broke the silence as it helped berth a massive 350 meter Comberth-class destroyer.

Location: Port of Brundisium

Phaedrus grimaced as he noticed the weapons of the Ennusian sailors. "Your men may carry small arms if they wish, however, no explosives or heavy weaponry will be permitted on shore."

The company of Tribunal soldiers behind him unslung their Corinthian assault rifles. Phaedrus waved them to keep their weapons low.

He turned back to Jacob. "What could you possibly know of honor." he sneered beneath his shadowy hood. Snipers and machine gun teams could only slightly be seen taking positions on the nearby rooftops. "Nonetheless, as I am a fair and tolerant man, I will accept that drink."

The General gave an icy glare at the hooded man ahead of him.

"Honored."

A sergeant came over with a small blue-glass flask, and poured two shots, which he handed to both men.

"Nex pro inhonesto" he said, downing the glass. "The Ennuisian people do not hide in the shadows, Tiberius. I hope that your men, our allies in a time long since past, are as even minded as you. There are 10,000 men in both branches that I am responsible for, I'd prefer if all of them returned home the way they came here. As I am sure you understand, we are the first Ennuisians to make contact with you since the dark era following the Kraven wars. What has happened since? And why the security? I remember West Corinthia as being an open society many years ago when I served in your civil war as a mere platoon leader, but this city looks even more militarized than Mer de Noms!"

Location: Port of Brundisium

Phaedrus swirled the liquid around the rim of his glass before taking a cautious sip. Deciding the drink was suitable, he nodded and said, "Potius mori quam foedari." He downed the glass and set it down. "It is refreshing to hear Latin spoken by foreigners. It is one of the traditions we have tried to uphold since our ancient past."

He glanced up at the Ennusian sergeant, as if expecting a refill of vodka. At length, he pulled back the hood of his robe, revealing the face of a young Corinthian man with a small scar under his left ear and piercing blue eyes. "The Tribunal thrives on a sense of security and stability. They achieve this through precautions such as these." He raised one eyebrow to the General and continued, "The West Corinthia of today is much safer and stable than the country you dealt with in the past. Recently troublemakers have attempted to destroy the peace we have created, but we have since quelled this treasonous activity."

5 miles above West Corinthian - Groznian border

The F-15E Eagle sliced through the thin air on another regular patrol. It's pilot had just completed his qualification training and this was his first mission. It was a clear and beautiful day, 25,000 ft above the ground the sky directly above him was a dark shade of blue and the ground below fairly visible. With half of his fuel remaining the pilot could count on being airborne for a few more hours. Then, quite literally, out of the blue a lightening bolt struck the dead in the nose.* Immediately the plane's circuitry was fried and sparks showered the pilot.

"Mayday Mayday, this is Eshnev 3, my plane is dead and I am going down, I repeat this is *Eshnev 3 flying route Tsemi-321, I've been hit by what I think is lightening and my controls are unresponsive. Does anyone read?" He waited a few seconds before cursing to himself.

With the electronics down the pilot was able to use the plane's hydraulic steering to control it. In a few seconds though, this would mean nothing as the electrical surge caused a fire in the left wing which grew and ended up disabling all use of the ailerons. This happened mid turn and he just so happened to be heading north when the plane lost all side ways control.

Lucky for the pilot the fire went out without him ever knowing about it. He was able to control pitch and glide his plane in, but other than that he could to nothing. In his eyes, the Corinthians were friends and wouldn't attack. The plane glided north into Corinthian airspace and at a thousand feet the pilot ejected after dumping all the fuel to prevent a fire. After touching down he got off a radio message from his personal radio detailing his position and status.

*15 miles away a thunderstorm was raging. A bolt of lightening had traveled across the sky from the storm to the aircraft.
---------------------
Meanwhile back in Groznyj


Many years have passed since the time when Groznian Rangers had set foot in West Corinthia, their neighbor to the north, to help quell the rebellion following Czar Kotov's untimely death. In the time that passed under the rule of the next Czar the Corinthians enjoyed a peaceful relationship with the Groznians. A number of Groznyj's northern inhabitants had relatives in West Corinthia and until the coming of power of the Tribunal trade and cross border visits were common place. For three years this wasn't the case. It was hard enough for any of the children of the Caucasus to visit relatives in West Corinthia and nothing but ill news trickled down from the border. Nevertheless the Republic decided it best to leave a neighbor to their own bidding and keep its nose out of the affairs of others. Certain.. international events.. turned this non-invasive policy on its head however..

After the invasion of its only colony of Yeltsmin, a dual island territory out in Arterus, by the Kraven juggernaut and its coalition, the men in charge of running the Republic received an unceremonious wake up call. This was to be compounded by the annihilation and mass exodus of another pleasant neighbor, Kahanistan. For its first 10 years the Republic kept out of bloody world affairs, in the hope that by bothering no one, she herself would not be bothered. With a major war in the far east and turmoil in the Holy Land, Groznyj could not afford to ignore anymore local issues. Demonstrations by concerned relatives of Corinthians and recent news footage...the only footage seen for 3 years, have finally sparked a cabinet meeting of the greatest importance.

The presidential conference room was full of grim faces. The president, defense minister, state minister, treasurer, and the armed cheifs were present. A guard closed the door shut.

President Ramzan Urmev, a man in his early sixties, 6'2" wearing the traditional Chechen papakha (http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/40053000/jpg/_40053970_maskhadov_bbc300body.jpg) spoke first to the men of power sitting around him.

"You all know of the current events that have transpired in our neighbor to the north and after the Kravenites* and the Doomani I am inclined to get involved in this matter.

"I agree with you fully sir," spoke Army Cheif Farley, "we have sat around on our asses long enough while our neighbors rip themselves apart and then it becomes our problem.-"

"And you propose a military response to this Cheif General?" shot back a shrewd looking Zakrii Asaev, the treasury minister "do you have any idea of how much that would cost?"

Before the Chief could respond the Minster of State, Ibrahim Karachay, arguably the most powerful man after the president spoke, "I think the crux of the matter is that we want to get involved but we don't exactly know how.. We can't just march in there with a bunch of soldiers, we don't even know what's going on outside of a few riots-"

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Several pairs of eyes glared demandingly at the man who walked. "forgive me for interrupting but this video footage is of relevance"

"Put it on." said the president. The man inserted a small disk into a DVD player and left the room. What followed was the prerecorded palace statue bombing and the declaration by the upstart Corinthian Field Marshal.

This had changed things dramatically. The hearts of the men in the room all went to General Ptolemy, for over a decade ago a very similar chain of events had transpired leading to the founding of their nation.

"Well, well, well." said the president, "Now isn't that something. So everything we had guessed seems to be true and that may explain the rumors.."

"But how are we to intervene without making this a major international incident?" spoke a voice.

Just then the table buzzer flashed red and made a soft purring noise.

"Yes what is it?" spoke the President, understandably impatient after being interrupted twice.

"Mr. President, one of our jets flying patrol over the northern border with West Corinthia has encountered mechanical problems and has crashed deep inside their borders."

"Is the pilot alright?" asked Urmev, concerned.

"Yes, he radioed back to us after he managed to eject. We are sending a rescue party now but he's so far in we may encounter resistance."

"Very good. Thank you."

The President looked up at his men. "It looks like we have our answer." he said with grin.

-------------------------
*President Urmev calls the men of the Kraven Corp. Kravenites regardless of what they're actually called.

_________________________________________

The Republic of Groznyj
Official Communique to the West Corinthian Tribunal

http://www.chechnyawar.com/flags/coat_arms_small.jpg
Long Live Nokhchichoo

Very recently a fighter jet flying patrol over our border was struck by lightening and crashed well within your territory. The pilot is safe and ejected before crashing. He has radioed his position to us and we have dispatched a rescue helicopter to pick him up. We also have sent a salvage team to retrieve the wreckage from the crash. It is to our knowledge that the pilot thoughtfully dumped his fuel before ejecting to avoid any type of forest fire. Considering our two nations' past accord with one another I assume this will be no issue to you.

However on a different matter there is something that I, and my nation, find deeply disturbing. What I am referring too is the video tape of the riots in West Corinthia and the video of the destruction of your statue. I speak for my nation when I say we had great respect for the former Czar Kotov and his heir to the throne. Our nations stood side by side and in your hour of need we sent in soldiers to help quell an uprising. I beleive you know by now what I am getting to. Prior to three years ago our nations enjoyed free trade with one another and many of Groznyj's northern citizens are also Corinthian or have relatives in West Corinthia. There has been great concern among these members of the populous about not being able to see their loved ones and stories of an oppressive government coming down the border. I have reason to beleive that the current West Corinthian government is totalitarian and oppressive. Your situation with us is not helped by the presence of the Wilhemsborougns (ooc: I'm sorry I have no idea what he adj is or how the hell to spell your name) and Ennusians in your waters which obviously suggests something is wrong. I shall eagerly await a reply as this is of great concern to national security.

Signed,
Ramzan Urmev
President of the Republic of Groznyj

Admiral Augustine raised an eyebrow. Infiltrate through these channels? What does that mean?

"Sir," the Admiral began, carefully choosing his words. "If your nation believes that Tribunal rule is wrong and that West Corinthia should be opened up to the world, then our interests would be similar. If you are looking for more of the same..." The Admiral trailed off.

--------------------

The 1st Lieutenant raised an eyebrow in suspicion as the man attempted to defend himself and show that he was not armed. This man was West Corinthian all right. He even had the accent.

But he was also wearing a Myrmidon uniform, meaning that he was part of the most highly trained special forces in West Corinthia. The most deadly as well. The Lieutenant could not afford to take chances, especially during times of escelating tension.

The Lieutenant turned around and reached for his radio.

"Suspect is West Corinthian. Says that he has a video tape that the Emperor himself requested. Ask the Emperor if he requested any tape from West Corinthia or if he knows a General Valerius Ptolemy."

"Also , send a bomb sniffing dog down here." The Lieutenant turned and looked at the Myrmidon before remembering what he was dealing with.

"Actually, make that two bomb sniffing dogs."

With that, the Lieutenant turned to face the West Corinthian.

"I can understand that you are upset at the way which you're being greeted, but a member of West Corinthia's special forces showing up at the front gate of the Emperor's Palace is not going to be ignored, or treated lightly. I commend you for not resisting or making any suspicious moves beyond showing up at the gate, but until we've determined that you are not a threat, we can't let you go. There may not be a gun on you, but with your jacket closed, I can't determine if there are any explosives strapped to your chest either!"

Just then, two security guards came down the hill. At their feet were two large German Shepherds, trained to sniff out explosives of all kinds.

The Lieutenant smiled. The bomb squad had arrived.

He turned back to the West Corinthian. "If you want to be helpful, you can put that package through the bars of the gate so that the dogs can take a look."

The two large German Shepherds were led by their handlers right down to the gate.

Location: Yalta, Wilhemsborough

"Very observant, Lieutenant, but had I not been trained as a myrmidon, there is no way I could have gotten through the border undetected." the Corinthian smiled slightly and pushed the package through the bars of the gate. He then unzipped the front of his jacket, revealing only a shirt underneath. He also patted down his own legs, just to show that there was nothing strapped to them, either.

He looked down at the package. "This information is very sensitive. You understand that the Tribunal must not get their hands on it. Merely by possessing it, you could compromise Field Marshal Ptolemy and leave West Corinthia to many more years of Tribunal rule." he almost spat at the word 'Tribunal.' Many Corinthians had taken to speaking the word as hatefully as possible.

Location: West Corinthia

The Tribunal border forces witnessed the crash of the Groznian jet. They had orders to prevent foreign traffic into the country, but understood that Groznyj would wish to send a salvage team. When they radioed back to Kydonia, the Tribunal had already heard about it.

Tribunal message to Groznyj

Given the unusual circumstances of this incident, we shall grant you very temporary access to the Corinthian airspace surrounding the crash. You may dispatch one helicopter to pick up the pilot, and another with men to work on salvage operations. West Corinthian vehicles will meet your men at the crash site and will assist with hauling the scrap to the Groznyj-Corinthian border, but Groznian vehicles may not cross this border. We shall monitoring your helicopters with fighter patrols to ensure that they do not venture out of the airspace we have allotted them. We trust you shall not violate our good will on this matter.

Signed,
Head Tribune Demetrius Apostolis

OOC: The Tribunal does not know about the tape of the statue and technically neither do you. There are other tapes of riots which are open to everyone but this specific one is just being delivered to Wilhelmsborough in secret. You might get a copy from Wilhelm eventually but disclosing it to the Tribunal would effectively compromise the rebellion.

[ooc: ok I didn't realize. Just assume that I don't know about the bombing then.]

Reply to West Corinthian Tribunal

Very well. Two Chinook helicopters are en route right now. We appreciate your willingness in sending a ground team to assist our salvage team.

However we still await a reply as to our questions regarding your internal situation.

-----------------

There was nothing the Groznian government could do at this point other than increasing the amount of border patrols. There wasn't enough information to justify an invasion and on the whole no one really knew what was going on in there.

The sergeant refilled both glasses, which Jacob promptly downed.

“I apologize, my mastery of the Latin language has dulled from atrophy. High Enochian is the prevailing tounge in my nation, though the other variants are almost equally popular. What is such a young man as yourself doing in such a high position in the government?”

He paused, handing the glass over to the sergeant, who took it away.

“Mer des Ennuis has stayed out of the affairs of this region for quite some time, what sort of ‘treasonous activity’ do you speak of? Dissent has its place, but crimes against the nation itself cannot be forgiven so easily, and my nation appreciates your honesty. Ex Unitate Vires, as they say, a house divided cannot stand.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“My nation, Admiral, knows nothing of the Tribunal. Yes, we would like to combat isolationism with a nation we were on friendly terms with. Though I may speak in generalities, I cannot commit to a plan of action. I can offer you this much: you may insert agents into the city under the cover of Ennuisian support personnel, and spread out from there. The Tribunal, regardless of who they are, have done us no wrong. Without more information, I cannot offer you anything more.”

His voice, as always, was smooth. It went with the glasses and black trench coat, the spitting image of a power broker.

Location: Port of Brundisium

Pheadrus took a sip from his glass, trying to make this one last a bit longer. "The other members of the Tribunal prefer to erase our past history, but I am proud that West Corinthia once was a part of the Roman Empire. As for myself, I cannot fully explain how I achieved my rank so young. I think it was because I supported the Tribunal when they rose to power." he paused, as if he had just come to a terrible realization. "I thought it was the best thing for the country. We had had so much war, and we were so entangled in foreign affairs that...well, we needed to focus on ourselves." For the first time, Phaedrus' voice wavered as he spoke. His speech had lost the conviction which it previously held.

Deciding not to conserve his drink after all, he downed it quickly. He hoped the alcohol would help drive these terrible thoughts of his head. After all, he was a high-ranking member of the Tribunal party. His allegiance had to be steadfast if he wanted to keep his life. There was no room to question himself at this point. "The treasonous activity I speak of is a series of riots which have occurred over the past few weeks. Just between you and me, I think something big is happening...bigger than the Tribunal lets on. They deny everything of course, that's just how they are. Just last week there was a riot and apparently some armed rebels killed four policemen, and they were armed with military equipment. A few days ago a statue was detonated in front of the old Imperial Palace!"

Phaedrus realized that he ad let his mouth run, and promptly stopped talking. He would get hell from his superiors if they found out what he had said, and expelled from the Party at the very least.

Official Tribunal Communique to Groznyj

We fear you have made several assumptions about our internal situation, all of which are incorrect. Our border has been closed in order for us to keep stability following the death of the oppressive and maniacal Czar. If your people followed the correct procedure, they should have been granted temporary access into the country under guard.

The Ennusian fleet is here merely to honor the deaths of some of our soldiers who died overseas. They came in order to deliver the bodies to their homeland. As for Wilhelmsborough, they are more of an annoyance than anything. There is no cause for alarm there.

Frankly, we offended to be dismissed as "totalitarian and oppressive." Czar Vasili and Aleksei Kotov were oppressive totalitarian dictators. We ensure that Corinthia is governed by law and justice. No longer does West Corinthia act as an imperialist conqueror. We leave other nations to care for themselves and we expect the same in return.

Signed,
Head Tribune Demetrius Apostolis

Location: Kydonia, West Corinthia

Field Marshal Ptolemy was in full ceremonial Tribunal dress. He wore a solid black uniform adorned with medals of commendation and the bars of a Field Marshal. As he passed through the main gate of the old Imperial Palace, he noticed where the statue of Demetrius Apostolis had once stood. The debris had since been cleared and the crater filled in. The area had promptly been patched with sod in order to hide any evidence that there had once been anything there.

Ironic though, that now Demetrius Apostolis had requested a meeting with the man who had perpetrated that attack. Valerius Ptolemy entered the palace through the massive front doors, which were easily three times his height and beautifully carved with symbols of the Czar. The Tribunal had decided to leave the palace intact because they believed that using it themselves was an insult to the Czar's name.

A pair of guards quickly scanned the Field Marshal with metal detectors to ensure that he was unarmed. Giving him the all clear, he proceeded through a series of checkpoints to the office of the Head Tribune.

Valerius entered the Head Tribune's office after knocking twice.

"Ah, you must be my new Field Marshal!" Demetrius Apostolis himself sat at the head of a long wooden table. He rose, but after a bout of coughing, resumed his seat. "I've been wanting to meet you."

"It's an honor." Ptolemy had to do his best to conceal his hatred of this man. After all, it was Demetrius Apostolis who had poisoned Czar Vasili Kotov and Demetrius Apostolis who had ordered the public execution of Alexei Kotov. He embodied everything Valerius hated. This man would die by his hand.

"Please, no need for show. It's only us in here." Demetrius coughed a few more times, then wheezed to catch his breath. It came as a surprise to Ptolemy that the Head Tribune was in such poor health.

"What shall we discuss, then?"

"The situation in West Corinthia. You may not know, but things are getting out of hand. First the riots, now these foreigners on our very doorstep. They seem to be making every effort to undermine our border restrictions." Demetrius wheezed some more.

"Shall I order a first strike against them?" Ptolemy finally took the seat farthest from Demetrius.

"Heavens no! I do not believe that would be wise for us in the long run."

Now another man entered the room. "You always were weak." this man was dressed in the standard black hooded robe of Tribunal party members. He came to the table and pulled back his hood. He was much younger than Demetrius, but perhaps a bit older than Field Marshal Ptolemy. A man perhaps in his late 30's.

Demetrius acknowledged this newcomer with a nod. "This is Vlassis, my often impertinent aide-de-camp."

"No longer, you old fool." he drew a silenced pistol and shot Demetrius several times in the chest. He then pointed the weapon toward Field Marshal Ptolemy. "I believe I can trust you. I could sense in your voice that you liked him no more than I. Will you serve me now, Field Marshal Ptolemy?"

Ptolemy watched the light dim from the eyes of the dying Demetrius Apostolis. The man he had vowed to kill now had fallen to another. However given the situation, all he could do was nod his head in acceptance.

"Good. Demetrius was always my puppet anyway. He was too old and sick to run the country on his own. In truth, I orchestrated everything from the assassination of the Kotovs to our dealings with these foreigners. However, recently Demetrius had been getting in my way. He would have opposed using biological weapons against the foreigners and the rebels in our own country. I am the Tribunal. He was just the face. And a face can still live without the actual man behind it. Demetrius' image will live on, but now he can't stand in my way." Vlassis seemed almost giddy at his deed. Too long a subordinate, he had decided to take advantage of an ailing Head Tribune and had commandeered the Party for himself.

"I'm sorry, did you say biological weapons?" Ptolemy was still stunned by the entire situation, but the words 'biological' and 'weapons' had not escaped his train of thought.

"Yes. The bodies the Ennusians brought us died from a highly potent biological agent. We believe some of it survived on one of the bodies. This is the perfect way to cleanse West Corinthia of those who would oppose the Tribunal!" Vlassis began to laugh maniacally. Finally composing himself, he ordered Field Marshal Ptolemy away. "Go now to the garrison outside Kydonia. Do what you will until I call for you again. I have a mess to clean up here."

“Relax Pheadrus, you’re among friends. Mer des Ennuis has always been a totalitarian state, though after the rebellion against the French, we grew much more open.”

Jacob looked him in the eye, and saw the doubt.

“You’re superiors will not hear a word of this, though I would like to meet with Demetrius Apostolis in the next day or two. West Corinthia has nothing to fear from Mer des Ennuis. We’ve grown too powerful for most other nations to be a threat any longer, and we have no plans to expand anywhere near your shores, and you are a friend. These riots trouble me, especially the attack at the Imperial Palace. If what you say is true, than it is as political as it is terrorist. I’m sure that the Tribunal has ears all over the place… and if you are willing to talk, what is the word on the street?”

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small card. It had a single star in the middle monogrammed as “JV.”

“If you ever need to reach me for what ever reason, business or personal, call me on the 1st number.”

He handed the young man a card.

”Reminds me of… me about 12 years ago” he thought.

The Republic of Groznyj

http://www.chechnyawar.com/flags/coat_arms_small.jpg
Long Live Nokhchichoo


Response to West Corinthian Tribunal:

Very well. We find it troubling that you should call the great Czar Kotov oppressive. He was a good man and well respected by many West Corinthian Groznians. However this matter will not be debated.

Regardless of the petty misunderstanding between the two of us it would seem a remedy is in order. We would take it as a sign of good will if you would once again open your borders to Groznyj. The trade and free movement of peoples would only benefit both our states in comparison to only isolation. Additionally it would be prudent for us to reestablish embassies in each other's lands. We pose no threat to you, and although this new government of yours is alien to us, if you have the support of the people you have us behind you as we always have been.

Your reply is eagerly awaited.

Signed,
Ramzan Urmev,
President of the Republic of Groznyj

Admiral Augustine was impressed by what Vanderlay was offering. The Ennusians would allow Wilhelmsborough operatives to infiltrate West Corinthia through their channels, and they would turn a blind eye to it.

"This is a very enticing offer, but I have to speak to my superiors before any action can be taken" said Admiral Augustine. "Actually, I haven't recieved an update on the situation in quite some time now."

The Admiral straightened up. "Nonetheless, we will keep the infiltration option on the table."

-------------------

The German Shepherds sniffed at the package that the Myrmidon was holding. After thirty seconds of sniffing for explosives, one of the Shepherds backed away, having found nothing.

The second German Shepherd gave up after 45 seconds, but sniffed at the Myrmidon. But the well-trained animal couldn't detect anything in its vast catalog of scents.

The dogs had done their job. The package was safe and so was the Myrmidon.

------------------

Meanwhile in Emperor William's office, the Emperor was sitting back in his chair in annoyance. He had been relaxing in his office enjoying the warmth fof the sunlight, when a group of armed guards came in and told him that there was a situation at the gate of the palace.

Those guards were now in front of the windows, blocking the sunlight that Emperor William had previously been enjoying.

Just then, a messanger came in.

"Your Majesty," the messanger bowed.

"What's the situation outside?" demanded the Emperor.

"The man at the gate has been determined to be from West Corinthia, sir."

The Emperor raised his eyebrows in surprise. "West Corinthia!"

"Yes sir!" said the messanger. "He says that he has a videotape that...you yourself requested.

The Emperor jumped out of his seat. "A tape??"

"Yes sir. From a General Valerius Ptolemy I believ-"

At once the Emperor cut him off.

"Get that man up here with that tape IMMEDIATLY!" he shouted. "I don't care about the safety precautions! I just want him here!"

"Y-yes sir!" replied the nervous messanger as he rushed for the door.

------------

Meanwhile, back at the gate, the dogs had determined that the Myrmidon was safe. But the Lieutenant was not quited finished with breaking the man's balls.

"Well, you're not armed in any form," conceded the Lieutenant. "But you're not out of the woods yet." He grinned. "We'll have to detain you so we can find out just how you got into the country. Pain in the ass yes, but our security is para-"

Suddenly, the Lieutenant's radio came to life. He turned around to get the message.

"Yes he's still here. What? He di- now? But I haven't...Yes sir, I'll do it."

The Lieutenant turned back to the man with a defeated look on his face.

"It would seem that our situation has changed," he said unhappily. "The Emperor wants to see you in his office with that tape. Immediately. We're going to open the gate now."

One of the guards went into the guardpost and pressed the button that opened the gate.

"I do believe that you're the first West Corinthian to enter the palace. Not even the Czars did that when they were alive."

The gates of Livadiya Palace opened for the Myrmidon to enter.

Location: Yalta, Wilhelmsborough

The myrmidon grinned and took the package back into his protective custody. "The first, eh? he asked the Wilhelmsboroughan Lieutenant as he walked past him, not even stopping for a response. The man had been through enough, and did not need more sarcastic remarks from the Corinthian.

He walked up to the nearest guard and inquired, "Which way is the emperor?"

Location: Kydonia, West Corinthia

"The Groznians want us to open the border, sir." a Party member delivered the news to Party leader Vlassis with a worried look on his face.

"What?" Vlassis immediately jumped up from his chair. "Impossible. They can't know what's going on here. No one can."

"A few petty riots wouldn't make them take action against us, sir."

"It's more than the riots. There are other things going on here which very few people can know about. They're even a secret from you. Tell the Groznians we must decline." Vlassis took a deep breath and walked out onto the balcony for a cigar. Before leaving, he turned back to the Party member and said, "Summon the other Tribunes."

Official Tibunal Communique to Groznyj

We must respectfully deny your request to open the Corinthian border. We may reconsider this decision in the future, but at this time it would not be in our best interest.

Signed,
Head Tribune Demetrius Apostolis
Cosigned,
Party leader Vlassis

Location: Port of Brundisium

Phaedrus took the card, looking at the ground in doubt. He then looked up at Jacob in almost disbelief. "A meeting with Demetrius Apostolis? You mean face-to-face? Impossible. The only people who have ever seen him are the most prestigious members of the Party! And the other Tribunes, of course. I have not even seen him, and due to his xenophobia, I doubt he would even consider meeting a foreigner."

He was not going to say anything further, but then came to the conclusion that this man could be trusted, to a degree. "I don't know much about the riots, but I've heard some of my soldiers expressing...disloyalty to the Party. However, we're trying to erase that with our new Field Marshal. He is a man named Valerius Ptolemy. The Party believes he can win back the support of the armed forces."

"Right this way sir," the guard said as both he and the armed security force started to escort the Myrmidon towards the palace where Emperor William was located.

As they walked up the hill, the West Corinthian laid his eyes on Livadiya Palace. The building was composed of white Crimean granite and built in the Neo-Renaissance style. Ornate Bramantesque windows covered the structure.

"It was here, in this very palace, where Roosevelt, Churchill and Stalin met for the Yalta Conference," said the Lieutenant, making an attempt to be a tour guide.

Finally, they reached the doors and walked inside. They walked through several rooms, each constructed in different styles. They walked up a flight of stairs, and down a hall.

Finally, they arrived at the doors of Emperor William's office.

"Well sir," said the Lieutenant. "Time to meet the Emperor."

He opened the door.

Inside the spacious office were a half-dozen armed guards covering the windows. But directly ahead, in front of the opened door, were three men. Two of them, General Trotsky and General Sherman, were standing on the right side of a desk. Standing in front of the desk however, was Emperor William Kennedy himself.

As the Myrmidon entered the room, the Emperor stood up.

"Hello, sir!" he greeted the West Corinthian with a smile. "I'm sorry that my men had to inconvenience you."

Upon hearing this, the Lieutenant slowly began to back out of the room.

He walked over to the Myrmidon. "But you and I both know that time is of the essence here. Do you have the video?"

Once the myrmidon had finished admiring the interior of the palace, he gave a quick nod to the emperor and held up his package. He tore the package open and pulled out a video tape along with an index card. "Compliments of Field Marshal Ptolemy." the Corinthian said, handing the tape out to whoever would receive it.

He then glanced at the index card. "I believe this is the number for the General's only secure communication line." Looking up at the surely confused faces of the other men in the room, he added, "His cell phone number. I assume he wants you to call him once you watch the tape."

“Art” stared back at Augustine through mirrored glasses.

“This is the best offer you can expect to get. It is contingent on one thing: name your source in the Corinthian military. We will need to come into contact with him. We’re feeling in the dark on this one, and that name is all we need.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Well Phaedrus, as the apparent liaison to Ennuisian forces, can you possibly arrange a meeting with the Field Marshal? We’d be most appreciative, and he might have served with Ennuisian forces in one degree or another.”

He paused, glancing around the port. Despite the dark sky, it was bustling with activity from the shear amount of ships that needed to be dealt with.

“As for Demetrius Apostolis’s xenophobia, understandable but unwelcome. No nation has stood alone for any substantial period of time. However, with these dangerous times you’re nation is experiencing… sedition, riots, and acts of terror… it is totally understandable. Perhaps we can offer some sort of help in ensuring stability, though I would like to speak to Field Marshal Ptolemy about that.”

Emperor William grinned. "Excellent!" he said. "I was planning on asking you if you had his number. Thank you for being prepared."

Just then, the door opened up and two guards wheeling a television set walked in.

William turned to the TV set. "Oh good, we can watch it now then!"

As soon as everything was plugged in, Emperor William popped the video into the VCR.

The men in the room watched as Field Marshal Ptolemy came onto the screen and introduced himself. Then they watched in amazement as the statue of Demetrius Apostolis was blown to pieces. And then the picture went black.

There was silence throughout the room. One could hear a pin drop.

"So," the Emperor said finally breaking the silence. "Ptolemy is for real. He's truly the leader of the rebellion. The man who will overthrow the Tribunal."

The Emperor bent over and put his left hand over his temples as if he had a headache.

Finally, he looked up at the Myrmidon who had brought the tape in the first place.

"Thank you for delivering the tape. It's allowed me to reach a decision as to how I'm going to act."

The Emperor reached for his cell phone.

"It's time to give the Field Marshal a call."

He started dialing the number off the sheet of paper.

Location: Port of Brundisium

Phaedrus rubbed the stubble on his chin for a moment. "The Field Marshal is a very busy man, but perhaps a meeting can be arranged. I'll see what I can do. As for me, I've got work to do here. It's been a pleasure." he stood and held out his right arm to Jacob for a handshake.

He noticed that several roadblocks had been improperly set-up around the perimeter of the foreign sailor zone. He would have to deal with this, and several other things, in time to report back to the Tribunal.

Location: Fort Tribune, just outside Kydonia

Field Marshal Ptolemy had just finished speaking to a company of soldiers when his cell phone began buzzing. This distracted him from his previous thoughts: which men out of the company he could trust to have more loyalty to him than to the Tribunal. Nonetheless, he glanced at the caller ID and recognized the number.

"Greetings, Emperor William. I trust you received the tape?"

It was evident that dialog was going no where with the Tribunal. There wasn't enough information to justify any real action so the next best course was to converse with the other nations involved.

[To Mer de Eunnis & Willhelmsborough]
The Republic of Groznyj

http://www.chechnyawar.com/flags/coat_arms_small.jpg
Long Live Nokhchichoo

Greetings. I am sure you remember us as one of the nations involved in West Corinthia's last civil war. If not then just know we are the southern neighbors of West Corinthia. The happenings of the past few days strike my government as very puzzling as well as the sudden coldness of all dialog with the Corinthian Tribunal. Noting your fleets near West Corinthian waters perhaps you have some information on the matter that you would care to share with us?

Signed,
Ramzan Urmev,
President of the Republic of Groznyj

From: The Office of the Arch Arsonist
To: Ramzan Urmev
Re: The Corinthian Situation

The following information is classified.

2,000 West Corinthian soldiers were killed in a biological event. The 13th Assault Group, currently docked in West Corinthia, was escorting the bodies. We are in the dark as to the motives and nature of the Tribunal.

-Adam Wincenty
General of the Home Guard
Arch Arsonist of Mer des Ennuis
“Fear Ensures Loyalty!”
“All Glory to the Hypnotoad!”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“It’s been a pleasure Phaedrus. You serve your countrymen well.” After he was gone, General Jacob turned to an aid.

“Captain, I’m not sure if I like this recent turn of events, and I’m tired from being on that accursed ship. Go assemble a squad. We’re going for a walk.”

“Sir yes sir!” It took five minutes for the captain to return with nine other men, mostly officers. “Where to, sir?” he asked.

“Lets go see the country. Last time I was here, I was getting shot at!” he laughed a bit. “We’ll have a good time, but I’d like to challenge one of those road blocks.”

They walked down the gang plank in a loose double row, past the saluting sentries. The general bought the men a round of shots of vodka at ‘The Merry Fisherman’ pub, before they took to the streets again, carbines at ease. Half an hour after leaving the ship, they approached a road block.

“Greetings soldier. Last time I was here, the war was over! Whats all this about then?” asked Jacob in a half-joking voice, addressing one of the Corinthians. The men behind him stood at a state of tense ease, curious about what would happen.

OOC: Groznyj, I will respond to your message after I finish talking with Ptolemy.

-------------

Admiral Augustine raised an eyebrow but kept his surprise in check.

"Source in the Corinthian military?" he repeated. "When did I say that we had a source within the Corinthian military? All I said was that there are rumors about high-ranking West Corinthian military officers within the rebel group!"

-------------

Emperor William was glad to see that his call got through.

"Hello...Field Marshal Ptolemy, is it? THe last time we talked, you were a General. I'm impressed!"

With that, the Emperor got down to business. "Yes, Field Marshal, I recieved the tape. I watched it, and I saw you, and I heard your voice, the same voice which I'm hearing now, and I saw you blow up that statue."

Emperor William took a breath. "I'm now convinced that you are indeed who you say you are, and that you truly intend to overthrow the Tribunal."

Location: Port of Brundisium

Phaedrus Tiberius flashed his identification to a guard at one of the roadblocks. Once cleared, he proceeded into the actual city of Brundisium before being picked up by a black sedan with Tribunal markings. Although he was leaving the city, his role in the future of West Corinthia was far from over...

Meanwhile, the Corinthians manning the roadblock stood at a calm state of readiness. The roadblock consisted of two armored humvees parked perpendicular to the road, so as to prevent automobile traffic. Sandbag walls and temporary fencing blocked the sidewalks on either side. Soldiers manned the machine guns mounted atop the humvees, though they did not seem overtly concerned about the Ennusians. There were also a number of snipers on the rooftops, though they also were not taking their roles very seriously.

As the Ennusians approached, a fireteam of four Corinthians with assault rifles approached them in front of the roadblock. The leader of the fireteam stepped foreward. "The last time you were here we had a Czar and we were a Republic. Times have changed. The Tribunal has mandated that you and your men remain within the designated area around the port for the duration of your stay."

Location: Fort Tribune, just outside Kydonia

"That's good news." Valerius Ptolemy let out a slight sigh of relief. "It will be very useful to have a foreign ally. However, I do not want you to take any kind of action just yet. The people might view it as a foreign invasion leaving a puppet government. I want the people to know that this was done by their own kind. I've been traveling around to various military bases, making my presence known. The support I have received has been overwhelming. It seems the military as a whole wishes the Tribunal to fall. This will be key once the revolution begins. I would like to keep the bloodshed to a minimum."

He looked up and noticed his door and windows were open. Cursing under his breath, he closed them immediately, making sure no one was listening.

He looked at the Admiral in the eyes.

“Admiral, the Tribunal has been beyond tight lipped on the issue. No dissent leaves their nation unless it is through the blackest of black channels. You have been informed that the dissenters have entered the Corinthian military. Either name your contact, or I walk out and you get nothing.”

He paused, just long enough to let his words sink in.

“I will obviously keep the name confidential, and spread it only to those who need to know and can keep a secret. If you need confirmation from your superiors, that is understandable, but time is of the essence.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Seeing the small group forming at the roadblocks, another group of soldiers and a group of sailors, some of whom were three sheets to the wind, began congregating behind the General.

“It’s a shame, it looks like there are some nice pubs right over yonder” he said, pointing down the road. So soldier, how do you feel about losing your republic for this long? In Ennuisia, we disbarred the senate only for three months, and then only in a time of emergency. If you had fought in your civil war, you would remember your brethren rallying against such a tyranny, but I digress. What would be so wrong if us soldiers were to wander down that street and see what this city has to offer?”

“You tell ‘em sir!” shouted a sailor twenty men back, as the crowd grew to an easy forty.

“Hell, whats say we buy you all a drink after you get off duty?” laughed Jacob.

Location: Port of Brundisium

"I'm sorry, no one's getting through this checkpoint unless I get a message on this radio-" he pointed to the walkie-talkie hanging on his body armor vest, "-from my superiors." The soldier said this with almost a patronizing tone. The Ennusians' words had obviously struck a nerve, but the Corinthian was attempting to conceal his emotions by taking on a tough-guy persona.

He then added, "There are plenty of fine pubs along the boardwalk which you are more than welcome to visit."

The other Corinthian soldiers appeared to be much younger than the one speaking to the Ennusians. They looked nervously at one another, unsure if they should have their weapons cocked or not. The ever-enlarging size of the Ennusian crowd only intensified their anxiety.

Now the snipers on the rooftops were beginning to take attention. One radioed for backup before scoping in on the apparent leader of the Ennusian mob.

Finally one of the young Corinthian soldiers spoke up. "Maybe we could move the checkpoint back about a tenth of a mile. There's a great bar just there with the finest selection of Corinthian wines in the area."

The ranking Corinthian soldier frowned, rubbing his chin. "I don't see the harm." he finally said. Turning to the Ennusians, he asked, "What do you say? If you wait here, we'll move the roadblock back just enough so you can reach the Drunken Knight Inn and Tavern. But that's all the leeway I'm willing to give." he rose his carbine slightly to emphasize his point. "If any of you try to cause an incident, there'll be one."

By now, 75 service men had begun to congregate, though most had no idea why they were standing there. Crowds had a habit of growing like that. Though seventy five seemed like a lot, there were almost 62,000 men in three of the branches were present in West Corinthia. As soon as the Corinthian started to bring his carbine up, a half dozen DR-87 ASOC carbines were lifted… slightly. The sailors went for their PDWs, but didn’t draw them.

“At ease” commanded Jacob in a stern voice. The men relaxed, slightly. “I’m surprised that you’d be willing to give up this stretch of road so easily. It apparently was so critical to the national security of your country that we not tread on that particular strip of asphalt, but I’m glad to see that you’re using that brain.”

He rubbed his chin, it was starting to get some stubble. Unacceptable.

“You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, son. We’ll accept your deal, but I’m always keen on hearing from old allies. When you signed up, I don’t think the recruiter told you that you’d be standing on the other side of a barricade, ready to shoot your friends. What has your tribunal done for you other than provide “peace” and “stability” from a threat that hasn’t materialized in any form? When has West Corinthian security been threated in a way that made friendly intervention impossible. We, do not stand alone, why should you?”

The crowd continued to grow, but the tone was still convivial rather than confrontational.

Location: Port of Brundisium

The Corinthian cocked his head slightly to one side. "It's certainly better than anarchy, which is what we had after the Czar died without an heir." his eyes narrowed a tiny bit. "The Tribunal saved us from ourselves. Sure, we had to make sacrifices." he shrugged his shoulders and his expression relaxed. "But we had no major incidents until you unleashed that virus which killed 2,000 of our brothers..

He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his free hand. At length, having regained control of his emotions, he looked back up. "I apologize. That was out of line. Allow me to buy you a drink at the tavern. I'd offer to buy for your men, but my wages have seen better days." he chuckled and whistled back to the humvees, which promptly started their engines and moved a bit down the road, just up to the beginning of the nearest intersection. The other soldiers grabbed armloads of sandbags and began hauling them down the road after the humvees.

Emperor William reclined into his chair. He was relieved that for the time being, Ptolemy wasn't ready to bring the Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire into his plans to overthrow the Tribunal.

"I completely understand the need for your coup to be legitimate and not appear to be backed by a foreign nation," the Emperor said. "But should the time come that you'd require our assistance...well...what matter of support should we give you? Should we bomb air bases and ports? Attack the Corinthian navy at sea? Land troops for a ground assault on your shores? What do you wish of my nation besides moral support for your coup?

"Also I have the man who delivered the tape here with me in my office. What's going to happen to him? Should I give him amnesty in Wilhelmsborough, or should I leave him to go back to West Corinthia?"

----------------

Admiral Augustine looked at Mr. Vanderlay with a stern expression on his face. This man was very deliberate in his speech.

"I will have to contact the Emperor and the Joint Chiefs to get their permission to disclose such information." he replied. "Please wait here, I will be back shortly."

The Admiral left the conference room and headed for the communications station in the CIC.

Location: Fort Tribune, just outside of Kydonia

The Field Marshal shook his head almost violently, though he knew this action would go to waste, being a phone conversation. "There shouldn't be any need to damage Corinthian military assets. If I succeed with my mission, I should gain the support of the vast majority of the armed forces. A few officers may contest, but they will pose little obstacle. For now, your political favor is all I need. In the event another foreign nation attempts to step in to protect the Tribunal, you can tell them off. My goal is to keep this revolution as quick and bloodless as possible."

He coughed twice to clear his throat and popped the cork from a fresh bottle of Corinthian wine. Without a glass, he took a sip straight from the bottle. "Leonidas is still there? Probably looking for a tip. He's a good soldier, though. Just let him loose and he'll find his way back here easily enough."

Now Valerius took another sip of wine and sat down behind a desk. "There is another matter. Though it does not concern you, I feel you should know, but you must tell no one!" he repeated this last part to emphasize his point. "Demetrius Apostolis is dead." he paused to let the words sink in. "He was murdered by a subordinate who goes by the name Vlassis. Apparently Demetrius has just been the face of the Tribunal, while Vlassis did all the dirty work behind the scenes. Now he's taken control of the Tribunal, and I think he is more dangerous than Demetrius by far."

He had finished, but then added, just for good measure, "Demetrius is still the face of the Tribunal, so you must continue to address him in all communications with the Tribunal. I am one of the few people who knows about this, so revealing it could let them trace the leak back to me. Understand?" he opened the drawer of the desk, where he knew there was an unopened pack of cigars. However, he knew smoking was filthy and slammed the drawer shut. Instead, he calmed with anxiety with several mouthfuls of wine.

As Emperor William and Field Marshal Ptolemy were talking, General Trotsky felt his cell phone buzz. He took it out of his pocket to see who was calling so that he could call that person later. To his surprise it was Admiral Augustine.

"I'll be right back." he said as he stepped out into the hall to take the call.

Meanwhile, at the same time, Emperor William's laptop made a noise which indicated that the Emperor had recieved an e-mail.

As Ptolemy was speaking, the Emperor pulled up his inbox to see who sent the message. He found that it had been sent by Ramzan Urmev. He was the
President of Groznyj, a nation located in the south, across the Black Sea. And he wanted to know what the heck was going on in West Corinthia.

The Emperor furrowed his eyebrows. Should he tell them that Ptolemy was planning to overthrow the Tribunal?

"I understand Field Marshal. If we have any communications with the Tribunal, I'll be sure to address all messages to Demetrius Apostolis. And we'll also keep any Pro-Tribunal elements out of the Black Sea. I don't know about the Ennusian fleet though. Can they be trusted here?"

Just then, General Trotsky came back into the room. He looked really anxious about something. He hurried over to Emperor William's desk, took a pen and a spare sheet of paper and scribbled a quick message which he handed over to William.

Admiral Augustine has made contact w/ Ennusians. Representative wants to know who our contact is in the WC rebellion. Augustine wants to know if ok to tell him. Yes? No?

His eyes went wide in shock. Now the Ennusians wanted to know the situation with the Tribunal and the rebellion? He shook his head. This was getting to be too much. He had to ask the Field Marshal if the Groznyjans and the Ennusians could be trusted with this information.

"Field Marshal, the reason why I ask is because West Corinthia's old allies, Groznyj and Mer des Ennuis, are looking to us for answers. The President of Groznyj has sent a letter, and now an Ennusian representative has made contact with my Admiral of the Navy. He wants to know the name of our contact who feeds us information on the goings on in West Corinthia."

The Emperor took a breath.

"Should I tell them that you are planning to overthrow the Tribunal? Should I tell them that there is an organized rebellion at all? Do you believe that these nations are trustworthy and will support your rebellion?"

Location: Fort Tribune, just outside Kydonia

The Field Marshal thought for a moment before responding. "I think the safest course of action would be to tell them only that the loyalty of the Corinthian armed forces no longer belongs to the Tribunal, and that your 'contact' is high-ranking. They'll know who I am soon enough."

A knock came on the door to his office. Ptolemy glanced up, and asked, "What is it?"

"You have been summoned by the Tribunal. They request a phone conference with you immediately." a soldier's voice came from the other side of the door.

Valerius returned to his cell phone. "We'll speak again soon." He flipped the cell phone closed and stood up.

Straightening his uniform, Ptolemy opened the door for the messenger. The messenger saluted, handed him an active phone, saluted again, and disappeared to deal with other duties. Valerius put the phone to his ear. "Field Marshal Ptolemy speaking."

"Ah, good, we have need of you, Valerius." the sound of the man's voice was slightly echoed, indicating that the other end was on speaker phone. All twelve tribunes must have been assembled for this call.

"I serve the wishes of the Tribunal without question." Valerius answered with false sincerity.

"Good. We need you to go to Brundisium. There, you will find the Ennusian fleet delivering the bodies of two thousand Corinthians who died overseas from the outbreak of a virus called 'Aurora.' We believe one of the corpses still contains trace amounts of this virus. Your duty is to supervise the burial of these men and oversee the extraction of the virus from this dead soldier. Aurora will then be cultivated until we have enough to save West Corinthia."

Ptolemy was taken aback. His voice quivered as he answered, "Wh- why do we need to cultivate a deadly virus to 'save West Corinthia?'"

"Simple." a new voice answered from the other end of the line. Apparently another Tribune. "You know about the riots. The people no longer follow us with the same loyalty shown by the army. Once Aurora is allowed to ravage the countryside, they will rally behind us to save them. You have your orders. Fulfill them to the best of your ability. Transmission terminated."

Ptolemy ended the call on his phone as well. For a solid ten minutes he sat in silence, contemplating what he had just heard. He knew that his plans would need to be accelerated. However, for now he needed to be in Brundisium. He walked out into the heart of the military base and found a helicopter pilot to bring him to Brundisium with a light complement of bodyguards.

Within the hour they arrived in Brundisium.

OOC: Hey, i'm in the process of moving right now, so my time is pretty limited. I'll get a post up as soon as I can.

"Very well Field Marshal. Then that's what I'll tell them. Talk to you soon."

The Emperor hung up the phone and leaned back in his seat.

"General Trotsky!" he said.

The General of the Army snapped to attention. "Yes sir!"

"Contact Admiral Augustine. He can tell the Ennusian representative that West Corinthia's military is no longer under Tribunal control, and that a high ranking officer is planning their overthrow."

The General bowed. "It will be done, sir." He turned and stepped out into the hall to make the call.

Then the Emperor's attention turned to the man Ptolemy had referred to as "Leonidas."

"Again, I owe you my thanks for your assistance in this matter," said the Emperor. "If you need to sneak back to your country, we will assist you in any way we can."

--------------

Admiral Augustine walked back into the Conference Room where Art Vanderlay was waiting.

"My apologies for having you wait," said the Admiral. "But I just got off the line with the Emperor and the joint chiefs. And while I cannot give you the name of our contact, I have been instructed to tell you this."

The Admiral took a breath before continuing.

"The West Corinthian armed forces are no longer under the control of the Tribunal," he announced. "They are being led by a high ranking officer of the military."

He looked the Ennusian representative in the eyes. "There is going to be a rebellion in West Corinthia, Mr. Vanderlay. If I were you, I'd tell my superiors to get any forces of ours out of the line of fire."

------------------

**Encrypted Message**

http://www.nationstates.net/images/flags/uploads/wilhelmsborough.jpg

Take not thy Thunder From us but take away our Pride

To: President Ramzan Urmev, Republic of Groznyj
From: Emperor William Kennedy, Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire

There is a conspiracy within the ranks of the West Corinthian military. A conspiracy that seeks to overthrow the Tribunal. I cannot tell you who leads this rebellion, but know this: West Corinthia's armed forces are no longer under the control of the government.

Although my sympathies lie with the rebellion, I have been ordered by their leader to not lend any assistance to their movement. The West Corinthians might believe that we intend to set up a puppet government if we send troops in to aid resistance fighters.

Mr. President, please keep this information hidden from the Tribunal. Their demise will benefit both of our states. After all, an open West Corinthia is perferable to a closed West Corinthia. Also, I've been told that many families have been split apart due to the closed border policy. I'm sure that many of them would be appreciative of a more open regime.

If you wish to discuss this further, please send a message to me on an encrypted channel.


Good Day,

Emperor William Kennedy
Wilhelm-Hatarian Empire
Crimean Peninsula
Yalta

The Republıc of Groznyj
http://www.chechnyawar.com/flags/coat_arms_small.jpg
Long Live Nokhchichoo

To: Emperor William Kennedy
From: Presıdent Ramzan Urmev

Thank you for the informatıon on the sıtuatıon. It seems that my speculatıons on the matter were correct. I wıll keep quıet on the matter and declare support once thıs man surfaces. I would apprecıate ıt ıf you kept me posted on the matter.

Godspeed.

Ramzan Urmev
Presıdent of the Republıc of Groznyj

Location: Brundisium, West Corinthia

The recently refurbished Hind gunship settled down on the runway at Brundisium International Airport. A whirlwind of dust flew up as the steady chop of the rotors dwindled down to a faint screech. The side door opened, and several Corinthian soldiers in full uniform jumped out to secure a perimeter. There was no need. The entire airport was on lockdown for the arrival of the Field Marshal. Local police forces, who differed from regular soldiers in uniform only, had held an iron grip on the city since the Tribunal takeover. Slowly yet confidently, Field Marshal Ptolemy emerged from the helicopter cabin.

A Tribunal party member, the official representative for Brundisium, arrived to greet him. He was dressed in the traditional Party uniform, a pure black hooded robe with the logo of the Tribunal emblazoned on the right breast. The man approached Valerius and removed his dark hood. "I am Phaedrus Tiberius. Welcome to Brundisium."

Ptolemy returned a welcoming smile and shook his hand. "Field Marshal Valerius Ptolemy. I'm here to oversee the burial operations. If you would." Ptolemy had never met this man, but they had spoken by phone just hours earlier. Phaedrus had called him out of the blue, asking to join the Cult of Vasili rebels. Skeptical, Ptolemy had denied all knowledge. However, seeing the young man now, he could sense that he was trustworthy.

Phaedrus escorted the Field Marshal, along with an army of bodyguards, to the docks, where the Ennusian fleet was moored at anchor. Ptolemy nodded to several of the soldiers manning a passing roadblock, as he personally knew them to be anti-Tribunalists. The convoy of armored vehicles arrived within the Ennusian limitation zone and allowed the Field Marshal to disembark.

Glancing around, the Field Marshal approached a man who appeared to be a high-ranking member of the Ennusian navy. "Excuse me. I am Field Marshal Ptolemy of West Corinthia. I am here to oversee the burial of our fallen soldiers. Perhaps I could speak with the Ennusian who is in charge here?" Compared with the cold manners of the various Tribunal-types the Ennusians had previously been dealing with, Ptolemy's tone was courteous and friendly. He even extended a hand shake to the man he had addressed.

Yet there could be no doubt in anyone's mind that there weren't a dozen snipers with their crosshairs on the Ennusian; ready to drop him if he tried to harm the Field Marshal.

OOC: I think what I'll do is continue my part of the RP through Mer des Ennuis.

Sorry for the delay, post coming tonight at around 7:00 EST, when I get out of work

“The Aurora incident was beyond our control, but you would know nothing of that” practically spat Jacob. “I was one of the first to find the bodies… it is a fate I wish upon no man.”

He let the HMMWVs drown out any discernable conversation as he chewed over the offer.

“You can buy the first one, but I myself will buy five for your men. No sense in letting ‘security measures’ make your duty any less bearable. Now come, first round is on me.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

‘Art’ sat in the chair as the Admiral left, looking at no one in particular.

”How big can this contact be? Brigade commander? Maybe someone in military intelligence. The Tribunal can’t have been stupid enough to leave a division or corps commander with concrete loyalties to the czar in power.” the nameless man thought. “Whoever he or she is, he’s high enough.”

The Admiral re-entered the room, and took a breath. He seemed slightly uneasy.

“The West Corinthian armed forces are no longer under the control of the Tribunal," he announced. "They are being led by a high ranking officer of the military."

“Art” was taken a bit aback by the emphasis on “high.”

”Maybe the Tribunal was that stupid…”

"There is going to be a rebellion in West Corinthia, Mr. Vanderlay. If I were you, I'd tell my superiors to get any forces of ours out of the line of fire."

Art removed his glasses, and calmly put them in his front pocket. He had heterochromia iris; one eye was blue, the other green. He matched the Admiral’s stare.

“Admiral, I’m not exactly sure what you mean, but Ennuisians back down from nothing, even if we don’t know what it is we’re facing. Without a name or even a rank, we cannot act in either case. A division or corps commander might be able to seize a city, but could still be crushed. None the less, I’ll keep my end of the deal. You may send up to fifteen men back in the chopper with me. Otherwise, we’re done here.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Commander George Anderson, dress whites, had disembarked off of his Union Class Trimaran Guided Missile Destroyer, DDGN-429 MDN Swan. He was more than surprised to see a very high ranking soldier from the Corinthian Army at the docks.

“Mister Smith” he shouted at a Lieutenant, “get over here!” as the soldier approached him.

The soldier spoke "Excuse me. I am Field Marshal Ptolemy of West Corinthia. I am here to oversee the burial of our fallen soldiers. Perhaps I could speak with the Ennusian who is in charge here?"

“Sir, it is a pleasure, sir.” Stammered Anderson, giving a crisp, rigid salute. “I am Commander George Anderson, Captain of the MDN Swan. I believe, Sir, that Brigadier General Jacob Veronese is the ranking officer in this operation.” The Commander took his hand in a firm handshake. “Mister Smith, find out where the General is.”

“Aye, sir.” Jr. Lieutenant Smith called over the coms, and got a reply a few seconds later.

“Sir, General Veronese has gone for a walk and is currently in the Drunken Knight Inn and Tavern with some Corinthian Soldiers.”

“Thank you Mister Smith. Field Marshal, our forces are at your disposal. We would be happy to escort you on foot, or we can commandeer one of my ship’s helicopters. I must warn you though, most of the army men here were in the assault that found the bodies. General Veronese was one of the first to see them. They are probably good and sauced by now.”

Location: Port of Brundisium

The Corinthian smiled and slung his rifle. He extended his hand to Jacob and said, "Sounds good. My name is Felix Pontius, by the way."

Having shook Jacob's hand, he whistled for a few of his men to accompany him to the pub, while making sure that the roadblock was adequately manned. The two groups of soldiers then set off for the nearby pub.

The Drunken Knight Inn was a very old establishment, probably older than the city of Brundisium itself. The handcrafted wooden interior creaked and moaned with each step, but had been exceptionally well maintained. It had the sort of inviting atmosphere that only comes with age. A fire burned in the fireplace along one of the walls. Various paintings and interesting items lined the walls. The pub was also well supplied, with enormous barrels of ale, mead, and beer. A back room, which was partially visible as the soldiers entered, was completely filled with all manner of Corinthian wines.

The barkeep sat behind a counter reading a newspaper. When he saw the vast array of men entering the inn, all armed, his eyes went wide. However, the men appeared to be desiring drinks, so he stood calmly and began setting out empty mugs on the counter and bringing out chairs for the many tables around the inn. He also took out his cell phone and called for more bar employees to come help with service, as he was the only one currently working.

"Welcome to the Drunken Knight Inn and Tavern!" he finally addressed the soldiers. "We have food and plenty of drink of all kinds, including some very rare and expensive vintage Corinthian wines. Please, feel free to take a seat at the bar or at one of the tables and browse our drink list. We also have ten big-screen plasma TV's with satellite channels." he smiled and motioned to the massive sets on the walls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Field Marshal Ptolemy returned Commander Anderson's salute. "That's fine, Commander. I just need to knew when we can get off-load the caskets. There was one casket in particular which I was supposed to be aware of. One which carried the risk of being contaminated with Aurora. Do you know which that is?"

“Jacob Veronese” he replied, giving a small, tired grin. He, and the rest of the men, poured into the newly liberated pub.

“I hearby claim this pub in the name of the Arch Arsonist!” shouted a thoroughly slogged seaman to loud cheers.

Jacob fired his pistol in the air outside the bar, quieting everyone down.

“Barkeep, round of your finest vodka for everyone, on me!” he called over the stunned silence, eliciting an even louder round of cheers. “Captain, take two or three men with you and bring some drinks to the Corinthians outside.”

“Right sir” he replied, before making his way to the bar.

“So Felix, you look the most seasoned of your men, where’ve you served? In happier times, I’d invite your unit to train with us on the Restricted Isles. I served my first tour in the Kraven wars, the clusterfuck that they were, and was brought in with a light unit to your civil war.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“I’m sorry sir, I was not availed that information, but I believe someone in MI would. Mister Smith, find out what body was suspected of contamination” he shouted across the dock over the din of trucks and forklifts loading and offloading supplies.

“Field Marshal Sir, we transferred all coffins while at sea to the prison or cargo ship you sent out, as requested, for quarantine. They were originally stored on the MDN Vidal, AKR-129, though we’ve swept it several times to ensure nothing was forgotten. I believe your ship is docked two miles down the road. What would you like me to do sir?”

“Commander!” shouted the Lieutenant down the gangplank, “Intelligence says it is no. 1152. It is set apart from the others on the ship, unless the Corinthians moved it.”

Admiral Augustine smiled and nodded his head towards Mr. Vanderlay.

"Thank you for giving us this chance. In return, I will give you one more clue."

The Admiral took a deep breath. "This high ranking officer has only just recently been promoted." he said. "I hope that helps narrow it down. That's the best I can do short of telling you his name."

With that, Admiral straightened up. "Now then. I must assemble a team of 15 men to go back with you."

--------

20 minutes later, a fifteen man Section marched out onto the flight deck of the Schadenfreude. They were equipped with Type III Body Armor, and armed with Heckler & Koch G36 Assault Rifles with a Beretta M92 sidearm.

All the rifles were equipped with 30-round magazines, except for the gun held by the Section commander, Sergeant Martin Random, which had a 100-round drum.

The Section approached the Ennusian helicopter. Sergeant Random stepped forward to face the soldier guarding the vehicle.

"We are the team which Mr. Vanderlay said come with him," he stated over the roar of the helicopter's propellers. "Permission to come aboard."

Location: Port of Brundisium

The noise of a gunshot brought a dozen invisible sniper crosshairs onto Jacob's chest and forehead. However, with no threat having been detected, reinforcements were not called in.

Felix sat down at the bar with Jacob and watched the bartender scurry to and fro with drinks for the men. More employees had shown up to assist with delivering all manner of alcoholic beverages to the thirsty soldiers. Finally receiving a mug of frothy Corinthian ale, he turned back to Jacob. "I've been with the army since conscription when I was 17. All Corinthian men were required to serve for a mandatory 2 years of active service back when we had the Czars. After that, they could stay in for a career or serve another 3 years in the reserve and be done with it."

He took a long chug from his glass. "Me? I chose to stay in the army. I've been deployed a few times since then, but we've rarely had open conflicts overseas. Perhaps the most memorable was the Makoki Isles campaign." Felix smiled and leaned a little closer to Jacob. "This has all been classified by the Tribunal, but I think it's worth telling. Czar Vasili had landed three legions worth of men on the southern tip of a newly discovered island chain. The Roubusians to our north were getting greedy, so we decided to kick them out altogether. I was just a sergeant back then, but we completely blitzed the Roubusians and knocked them out." Felix leaned back in his chair and finished off the mug of ale. He was obviously enjoying the memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Field Marshal Ptolemy nodded. He would have to get aboard that prison ship at all costs if he was going to stop a tragedy from occurring. "Thank you, I'll have to go complete an inspection." he saluted to the Ennusian and walked away. One of his bodyguards drove up shortly in an armored humvee and allowed the Field Marshal to board. They then sped off to find the prison ship.

Location: Near the West Corinthian/Wilhelmsboroughan Border

The myrmidon named Leonidas snuck back into West Corinthian territory with little difficulty. Myrmidons were trained from a young age to be masters of infiltration and sabotage. However, the Corinthian military presence along the border had increased significantly since he had left. It became apparent to him that he would need to get through a heavily guarded checkpoint along the road. He hoped that he could also acquire a vehicle there with which to expedite his journey back to the secret Cult of Vasili base.

He approached the outer checkpoint and flashed an I.D. badge to one of the sentries on duty.

"I'll need you to answer a few questions, sir." the sentry asked. "Where are you coming from?"

Leonidas shrugged his shoulders slightly and answered, "a friend's house down the road. I'm on extended leave."

The sentry continued, "What business did you have there?"

Again, almost nonchalantly, he answered, "Catching up on a few things. Beside that, personal business."

"Rank and serial number?"

"My rank is corporal. Serial number 840952." he rolled his eyes as he spelled out the made-up number.

"Mhmmm." the sentry finished copying down the information on a notepad. "You're cleared to go." he opened the gate for the myrmidon and saluted as he walked by.

Inside the guard shack, a mysterious figure in a black hooded robe had snapped a picture of the mymridon on his PDA and emailed to Kydonia. By the time the conversation between Leonidas and the sentry had ended, the mysterious man had a reply. It read: "This man is a known myrmidon. Detain him immediately! Use extreme caution, myrmidons are highly dangerous, even unarmed!"

The mysterious man shouted out the window, "Arrest that man!"

Leonidas heard the shout and immediately broke into a sprint. A sentry at the opposite end of the camp grabbed him by the jacket and wrestled him to the ground. However, he proved no match against the myrmidon. Leonidas pinned the sentry to the ground and took his pistol. He shot the sentry in the kneecap and then emptied the clip toward the guard shack. Leonidas then dropped the weapon and sprinted in the opposite direction.

Despite this effort, a round from a Corinthian sniper pierced the back of Leonidas' shoulder. He collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily. Guards were upon him in no time. They handcuffed his arms and legs, blindfolded him, and loaded him onto a military troop transport truck. The truck then drove off, Leonidas only receiving some antibiotic and bandages for his wound.

He didn't know it, but the truck was headed for a forced labor camp a little farther into Corinthian territory...

The Warrant Officer shouted down over the rotors

“Premission to board, leave your weapons.”

It took “Art” ten minutes to re-board the helicopter.

“Chief, make for the Sultan” he ordered, referring to one of the group’s dreadnoughts. The helicopter was up and away in a few seconds.

“Gentlemen, I don’t need to tell you that you’re going black here. You may call me ‘Art,’ but that is irrelevant. Your weapons and uniforms will be confiscated when you land on the ship. If you are going under as Ennuisian operatives, you will damn sure look like them. We use these.” He pulled a DR-87 Adv. SpecOp. Carbine off a gun rack, which he passed to Sergeant Random. He unholstered his silver L-26 sidearm, a beast of a handgun. “We have several compact PDWs to give you, but familiarize yourselves with these. You’re covers will be sailors. I’ve arranged to have twenty longshoremen uniforms set aside before this trip began, with appropriate identification. Be wary, there are road blocks set up, but Ennuisian forces will help you out of ignorance if you challenge any of them.”

The ships in the harbor soon came into view, the [i]Sultan[i] lay docked next to the prison ship it had escorted. Nearly one hundred-seventy Ennuisians, in combat gear rather than the formal mess dress of most of the others present, kept highly visible patrols by the ship.

“If any of you find this disagreeable,” he said coolly, sliding open the heavy door, a blast of sea air chilled the cabin, “then you may walk out now.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“The Roubusians eh? Never heard of em, but a fights a fight. Mer des Ennuis has stayed out of foreign policy for a while, though I’ve heard rumors of ranger detachments scouting out an uninhabited island chain somewhere, but they’ve been known to make a mountain out of a mole hill.”

Jacob picked up a mug, and held it up to the light.

“Good selection here… well, Mer des Ennuis has shifted to a volunteer army, and, quite frankly, the only honorable way to live a life. I joined up at 18, skipped college to attend the Carpathia Ziemowit Military Academy. It was shelled three years after we graduated by the Kravenites. Shame, nice place.”

He took a sip.

“To hell with it” he muttered, downing the remainder and slamming it on the bar.

His earpiece beeped once.

“Sir, Field Marshal Ptolemy was seen alongside the docks, looking for you.”

“Excuse me Felix. Who is this, and is he still there?”

“No, sir, he left for the prison ship. This is Commander Anderson, an MMPWV LV-08 has been dispatched, ETA 1 minute.”

“Right, I’ll be there shortly.” He turned to Felix. “Your Field Marshal is apparently inspecting my ships, and I must depart. You’re more than welcome to join me.” He stood up and shouted “Captain, you’re in charge, don’t get anyone killed.”

“Sir yes sir!” came the reply over a raised martini.

Outside the inn, the light vehicle came to a screeching halt, fish tailing to reverse direction.

Jacob stood to leave, and would be ripping down the road in a matter of seconds.

Location: Port of Brundisium

Felix followed Jacob out into the street, with his mug in hand. He had been sure to have the barkeeper refill it just moments earlier. "I'd love to join you Jacob, however, I'm still technically on duty. I'm sure we'll meet again before this is all over." With that he gave a subtle wink and turned to head back into the bar. He now turned his attention to ensuring that the barkeeper's historic building was not destroyed by the rowdy Ennusian sailors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The humvee carrying Field Marshal Ptolemy skidded to a stop at a roadblock and checkpoint along the waterfront. The Field Marshal showed the sentry his I.D. and the vehicle passed through safely. They were now in a section of the harbor reserved for the Corinthian navy. Security here was extremely tight. Armed sentries patrolled nearly every square foot of ground. Snipers and tripwires guarded every feasible entry point. The Field Marshal, accompanied by his bodyguards, approached a wharf. Docked here was the Corinthian destroyer WCN Tripoli. Right now it was the safest and fastest way to reach the prison ship, which was just off-shore.

Location: 15 miles north of Ancora, West Corinthia

The truck carrying Leonidas drove throughout the night and into the morning. It seemed to be traveling mostly on bumpy dirt roads, and Leonidas barely got an hour of good sleep. He was still blindfolded, gagged, and handcuffed. The truck made several stops, in which other prisoners seemed to be loaded in with him. The only noise he could hear was the sound of the rocks kicked up by the wheels of the truck, and the occasional whimper of a fellow prisoner.

Finally the truck stopped for good. Leonidas and the other prisoners were pulled out of the back of the truck and thrown to the ground. Their blindfolds and gags were removed, but they remained handcuffed. The light from the midday sun at first blinded Leonidas, but his eyes eventually adjusted. He could see that the truck had brought him deep into the mountains, to a secluded area where a makeshift prison camp had been built.

The prisoners who had been brought with him appeared to be mainly men of about military conscription age. Leonidas shook his head, "poor bastards got caught speaking out against the Tribunal." Every prisoner had obviously been abused in some form by the time they had been loaded into the truck. Many sported bandages or crutches, and a few were merely caked in dried blood. They looked around anxiously as the guards of the prison camp held a short meeting.

Finally the guards opened the main gate of the prison camp and forced the prisoners to enter. The camp contained several dozen wooden structures for housing, along with a heavily guarded concrete building in the center. The entire camp was ringed with barbed wire and showed a watchtower every hundred feet or so. Then something peculiar caught their eyes. Train tracks.

Why were there train tracks going through a prison camp? Then they noticed a gaping hole in the side of the nearest mountainside, which was actually very close. A stone quarry. This was a forced labor camp.

Leonidas sighed when he realized his fate. Until he could be rescued or manage an escape, it would be nothing but back breaking labor in a stone quarry for the Tribunal. A graveyard across the camp served as an eerie reminder for those who would try to escape.

Sergeant Martin Random grinned at the dramatic move that Art made with the opening of the helicopter door that led to a long drop into the sea.

"You don't need to worry about us backing out, sir." replied the Sergeant. "We're determined to follow through with the infiltration mission."

He took the Carbine rifle in his hand and started looking it over, trying to get a feel for this new weapon. The other 14 men of his Section were doing the same with their own guns.

"Believe it or not, this is not our first trip into West Corinthia. Me an' my men here, were with Field Marshal Trubetskoy's 4th Army Group when the elder Czar Kotov was killed. The Emperor, then a Prince at a time, sent in three Army Groups to quell the rioting and bring the nation under control for the new Czar."

He laughed bitterly. "Fine job he did. But anyway, our group knows this area of West Corinthia pretty well, and we're willing to help your soldiers find their way around, should things get heated." the Sergeant grinned at the Ennusian.

*Bump. Edited some new stuff into my last post.

Art, stoned faced as ever, stood and cracked his neck.

“Mer des Ennuis sent several thousand special forces and light units here, but we regrettably were unable to mobilize further than that.”

The warrant officer yelled back “ETA 20 seconds!”

The helicopter touched down soon after that, and a rough-faced sailor threw the door open over the rear of the ship. Twenty crates were set up by the helipad, and a few gun racks had been dragged up from the armory.

“Gentlemen and women, your uniforms are in these crates. Your bags have military ID cards indicating a recent transfer to the Naval Maintenance Corps, and your weapons have had the serial numbers removed.”

He took a small headset, resembling a common civilian blue-tooth devise.

“This is highly encrypted, and ever soldier on duty, and many who are off, are carrying them. If you need help, radio “Deviant Sword” on channel 3 and your position, and the cavalry will come. I recommend you travel towards “The Drunken Knight” inn, I’ve been told our forces have confronted a roadblock there, and tensions are high. Do not get an Ennuisian killed, and I expect all documentation and uniforms destroyed as soon as possible, and your weapons ditched soon after.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

General Veronese, practically rolled out the MMPWV, which then sped off to a landing craft.

“Sir!” exclaimed an able seaman, snapping to attention.

“What craft is this son?” The boat was fairly small, only 65 meters long.

“LCS-318, sir!”

“Not commissioned yet?”

“No, sir! She has yet to find a namesake.”

The general frowned. The recent naval expansions had left over half the ships in the navy without a name, and there weren’t enough Medal of Honor recipients to go around.

“Is the skipper here?”

“Yes, sir! Commander Matthews is in his quarters.”

“Thank you sailor” said Jacob, before jogging to the officer’s quarters, where he pounded on the door. He heard an explitive, followed by a thud.

“Who the bloody fu- oh, Sir” exclaimed a surprised Lieutenant Commander, tripping over the pants he was pulling up.

“Mister Matthews, I need to borrow your RHIB. The Field Marshal of the Corinthian Army is going to the prison ship, and I would very much like to meet him. Do you have any men-at-arms on the ship?”

“Sir, we have three dozen deck sentries around somewhere, but…”

“Good, that will have to do for now. I’ll need a few.”

“Yes, sir!” He picked up a phone, and began yelling to the bridge. Jacob, already down the hall, didn’t make out more than a word or two. He strolled to the stern, looking out at the beautiful behemoths, where a dozen men in battle armor were waiting.

“I don’t have much time, lets go.”

“Yes, sir” came the reply from a dozen masks. In a minute, the boat was off, heading towards the prison ship.

Location: Port of Brundisium

The destroyer WCN Tripoli slowly drifted away from the docks, assisted by several tugboats. Field Marshal Ptolemy watched the massive wake left by the ship over the stern railing. The Corinthian prison ship was only a few miles off-shore, but it would still take a while to reach it traveling by destroyer.

The captain of the ship walked up gingerly next to the Field Marshal, taking careful notice of his vast number of bodyguards. "I am Captain Avitus Adeodatus of the WCN Tripoli." He offered Ptolemy a drink, which the Field Marshal politely declined. Avitus continued, "Can you tell me anything about this 'surprise inspection?' Why didn't I hear anything about bringing you out to the prison ship before?"

The Field Marshal took his eyes off of the ship's wake and turned to the captain. "These orders came straight from the Tribunal. I had little more warning than you. I apologize if using your ship as a transport annoys you, but there were no other ships that could be spared for a moment." He then added, "And this inspection is very urgent. There could be a biological agent aboard that ship. I need to contain it."

"I understand." the captain sounded unsure of himself. "I'll have the ship increase speed at once." he straightened his uniform, saluted, then walked away. As he departed, he noticed an Ennusian ship on a parallel course to the prison ship. He made a mental note to contact them on the radio when he returned to the bridge.

Location: 15 miles north of Ancora, West Corinthia

Leonidas took his pickaxe in hand and landed a mighty blow upon a stone boulder. He took a moment to wipe a bead of sweat off his brow. Despite working in the mountains, it still felt like a hot summer day. His lips were badly chapped, and he was dehydrated. The guards at the forced labor camp rarely gave the prisoners water during their shifts, which often lasted all day.

A guard walked past Leonidas. "Keep working, myrmidon!" he hit Leonidas with the butt of his rifle, directly over his unhealed gunshot wound.

Leonidas cried out in pain and reached for the wound on his shoulder. The camp doctors had removed the bullet, treated the wound, and bandaged it, but they had given him no painkillers. Nonetheless, he had no choice but to keep working. A chain kept him tied to the quarry. Soon he would have to load the stone onto a train before dinner. Then he would have a few hours to sleep before beginning the cycle again.

The man working next to Leonidas was at least 20 years his senior. He was frail and weak. He had obviously been in the camp for some time. Suddenly he collapsed and died. Several guards ran up and began cursing at him to continue working. When the man did not move, they bayoneted him to make sure he was truly dead. Finally they dragged him off to be thrown in a hastily dug grave somewhere.

Leonidas worked on.

Sergeant Martin Random nodded.

"Understood, sir. Should things get hostile, we will follow these orders."

The Sergeant and the other fourteen men of the Section started to don the uniforms of Ennusian soldiers.

The Sergeant looked at the Bluetooth headset in envy.

"Fancy bit o' technology here." he said wistfully. "And so compact as well. Our military still uses these bulky radios." He gestured at the black reciever connected by a wire to a radio transmitter. The radio on its own wasn't terribly large, but compared to the bluetooth, the Wilhelm soldiers might as well carry luggage into battle.

As Random continued to disguise himself as an Ennusian, he thought to himself about what lay ahead. He also thought about the inn that Art has mentioned.

Hmm, Drunken Knight Inn, huh?" he grinned. I could use a stiff drink at the moment. Something to relax myself should the men and I have to go on a killing spree.

Finally, Random and his section were finished, and presented themselves before Art.

"Well sir?" said Martin. "How do we look?"

*Bump

OOC: Waiting for M.D.E. Tomorrow I'll further the plot along.

OOC: Yea, time's been tight, sorry for the delays...

Art looked them up and down.

"No, you'd never pass like that." He flicked the hat off of one of the soldiers, and messed a few of them up.

"You are sailors on shore leave, not the high guard. Sergeant Random, I'd advise you to get into a bar fight if you really want credibility, just make sure you don't beat the poor sonofabitch too badly, and don't talk back too much to an officer."

He held his ear intently for a minute, listening to a message.

"Nothing of importance" he said at last. "We try to keep on the cutting edge of technology; helps defeat enemy intelligence, and in this digital age, any advantage can make a huge difference. I wish you luck."

The agent whose name they would never know saluted them, and walked off into the darkness.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Sir, the Corinthian destroyer is increasing in speed, and they are maintaining radio silence."

"Commander, can you catch up to them?"

"Sir, this ship is rated at 55 knots, i'm barely pushing twenty. You wanted me to catch the destroyer, this baby is ment to land men under fire on a hostile beach head."

"What the hell are they doing... we'll make for the prison ship, they clearly don't want us with that destroyer... assemble your men, I want one of the ship's doctors and a squad in full NBC gear ready to board the prison ship when we arrive."

The 65 meter ship, breaking over the waves, looked small compared to the destroyer, and resembled a spec compared to the hulk of the prison ship.

"Right. Full speed to head, beat to quarters" shouted the commander. The ship lurched as the gas turbines revved up, and the stealthy ship took off.

"Sir, would you like me to do anything else?"

"Yes, radio our plans to the Corinthians. Something is going on here... and I don't like it."

The Lt. Commander picked up a microphone, and broadcast an open message as they passed the warship.

"Corinthian Destroyer this is Ennuisian LCS, we are making for the Prison ship, and will meet you there. Please advise, over."

Sergeant Random stood at attention as Vanderlay messed up his men. He said nothing, though he was steaming with rage at the sight of a foreigner fooling around with his soldiers right in his own backyard. He kept his mouth shut as the success of their mission depended on the Ennusian's support.

But when Vanderlay finally walked away...

"That son of a bitch. FUCKING HELL!" the Sergeant swore. He turned to the men which had been roughed up. "Smithwick, Murphy, Reilly, you guys alright?"

Corporal Murphy grinned. "I'm just fine, sir. It'll take more than that to keep me down."

"Aye," agreed Private Reilly. "Just a surprise that's all. You don't usually see any roughing up o' soldiers after basic training!"

Sergeant Martin Random cracked a smile. "Well Reilly, the Ennusians aren't like us. They believe in the power of the power of fear, and use threats an' intimidation to ensure loyalty."

Lance Corporal Smithwick shook his head as he picked up his hat. "Fear and intimidation to ensure loyalty you say?" he laughed bitterly. "I wonder why they feel that they should scare their underlings in order to keep them'n line. I wonder what they fear in their own people."

Sergeant Random nodded gravely. "Which is why I don't want to see any of you putting up with any of this fearmongering crap."

The fourteen undercover soldiers looked at their Sergeant with curioisity.

"What do you mean, sir?" asked Smithwick.

"What I mean is that if any of your "fellow Ennusians" get in your face and try to intimidate you, don't take their crap. Look 'em right in the eyes and don't break contact."

"What if they start a fight?" asked another Private.

"Well first, you better make sure that they're the one that throws the first punch, that mean's that they're at fault. But if you're drawn into a fight, aim for the neck and behind the knees. I know it's dirty, but it'll end the fighting quickly."

----

The undercover Section walked out onto the main deck of the ship. The sun was out and there was a warm breeze out. Mainland West Corinthia loomed before and the fifteen men were all quite anxious to be landing there for the second time in their lives. The first time they came to West Corinthia, they were part of a force hundreds of thousands strong. They had tanks, airships, and Active Denial Systems for support.

But now, there was no support. There were no other of their fellow soldiers and countrymen about. They were all alone surrounded by strangers and potential adversaries. If they didn't keep their all their wits about them, they would be dead.

A few minutes later, the men walked down the gangplank and stepped onto enemy soil...

OOC: Not a problem. Time is getting tougher for me as well.

Location: Offshore West Corinthia

Captain Deodatus aboard the WCN Tripoli eyed the Ennusian landing craft cautiously. He was an odd fellow, noteworthy for his eccentric style of command. "Make contact with the Ennusian vessel. Give them a few flashes on the aldis lamp, just some random gibberish to get their attention, then give me the radio."

A group of quick flashes emanated from the aldis lamp of Tripoli. It appeared to be morse code, but anyone trained in such an art would recognize it to be incoherent nonsense. Nonetheless, Captain Deodatus activated his radio on an open frequency.

"Ennusian vessel. This is Captain Deodatus of the West Corinthian Navy. That prison ship is property of the Tribunal Party of Corinthia. If you want access to it, you must make your request to-"

The captain was cut off mid-sentence by a hand on his shoulder. Field Marshal Ptolemy took the radio from the captain. "Ennusian vessel. This is Field Marshal Ptolemy of the Corinthian Armed Forces. Proceed to the prison ship immediately. I need to speak with you."

Captain Adeodatus was not pleased at being interrupted, but was forced to submit to Ptolemy's superior rank.

Location: Port of Brundisium, West Corinthia

The scene along the waterfront was much more relaxed than before. Despite the strictest orders of the Tribunal, Corinthian soldiers were fraternizing with Ennusians almost everywhere. Even some of the Corinthian snipers were chatting with Ennusians in the streets below their rooftops. Bartering seemed especially popular. Since the Tribunal had come to power, foreign goods had been very hard to come by. Many soldiers now were trading freely amongst each other.

Yet despite this apparent relaxation, security was still very high. The roadblocks were still in place at the edges of the waterfront, and armed patrols of soldiers watched almost every section of open road/beach.

Two Corinthian soldiers noticed a new group of Ennusians (Wilhelmsboroughans) disembarking from their ship. They approached the group calmly, weapons slung behind their backs. "Welcome to West Corinthia, land of the free." the younger of the two soldiers said. By looks, he seemed to be no older than 18 years old.

The other soldier playfully hit him in the arm. He was obviously not much older than the other. "I apologize for my friend here. He doesn't take this job seriously. May we ask you a few questions before you go off? I'll remind you that you need to stay within the designated perimeter. Trust me, you'll know where that perimeter ends when you come it."

The other soldier now straightened up and began questioning. "What are your names and ranks? With what are you currently armed? Do you have any fruits or vegetables with you?"

Location: 15 miles north of Ancora, West Corinthia

Leonidas now had several friends inside the camp, all of them prisoners. He had learned that most of the people in the camp were either supporters of the Czar or otherwise dissenters against the Tribunal. There were more camps like this hidden all over the mountains. Conditions were intolerable, food was scarce, and clean water scarcer. It's not that food and water were not available, the guards just chose to deny it to the prisoners.

Guards in the camp were also few in number, though this made them all the more cruel. They must have been hand picked by the Tribunal, and the Tribunal had few friends they could trust these days.

One night, a prisoner in the camp showed Leonidas the escape tunnel he had been digging for the past seven months. It was now less than a week from completion. The prisoners had acquired through bribes civilian clothing and identification papers. With the death toll in the camp rising steadily, Leonidas knew this was his only chance...

“What are they flashing at us?”

“Nothing Captain, they aren’t flashing letters.”

"Ennusian vessel. This is Captain Deodatus of the West Corinthian Navy. That prison ship is property of the Tribunal Party of Corinthia. If you want access to it, you must make your request to-"

“Ignore that order skipper, we will-” started Jacob, before the next broadcast interrupted him.

“Ennusian vessel. This is Field Marshal Ptolemy of the Corinthian Armed Forces. Proceed to the prison ship immediately. I need to speak with you."

“Proceed as planned commander, and notify the vessel.” Jacob left to walk on the deck, and eyed the Corinthian destroyer that was fast loosing steam. A number of sailors in combat gear loitered around the back, waiting to board the prison ship.

“Corinthian vessel, loud and clear. Will meet you at the ship.”

It took a few minutes, but the LCS beat the destroyer by a wide margin. Jacob threw a gas mask on; hardly the comprehensive coverage needed against a potential Aurora outbreak, but it would suffice in a pinch. Jacob and the soldiers boarded the ship, and waited on the deck, fearful of entering.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Tell me, do you know why our motto is ‘Fear Ensures Loyalty?’” asked Art, not looking at the petty officer he was addressing.

“No… sir.”

“We picked that motto not because the people should fear their government, or that the government should fear its people, but because the mutual fear would keep both in line.”

“What do you mean sir?”

“Tell me son, what did you get when you turned 16?”

“Laid, sir.”

Art didn’t react at all.

“An m16A4… sir” said the sailor again, this time a bit more nervous.

“Correct, your government gave you an assault rifle. What did the government tell you was the reason?”

”To defend the homeland from foreign invaders, and to defend ourselves? Sir?”

“Yes, but there was another reason. The government wanted you to protect yourself from it. Tyranny is the enemy of all, even in the junta that we have been graced to live under. The government does not fear you sailor, it fears the people as a whole. You out number the government, and therefore keep the government in line.”

“But no rebellion has succeeded sir.”

“Exactly, the people are fragmented, and many are content. They fear their government for the reason that every rebellion has been crushed with brutal force, for precisely the reason that they fear the masses, but not the individual.”

“I don’t understand sir.”

“Son, the government doesn’t execute every dissenter because to do so would stir the ire of the people. The people in this way moderate the government, who deals with the most outrageous offenders. Both are moderated as result.”

“I think I understand.”

“The Tribunal fear their people, and their people are afraid. But the people are not civilized like Ennuisians; they have no power to keep their government’s fear in check. We have power sailor, and they fear us, and keep us here like an invading force. I’ve seen this before… it will only be a matter of time before we uncover camps… the ultimate manifestation of fear.”

“What should we do now?”

“Nothing. Lieutenant!” he shouted, still looking out the bridge window. The irate Wilhelmsboroughans had stormed off the boat, barely noticing the sentries who jumped to as they passed, and were being interrogated by a pair of Corinthians.

“Yes sir?”

“Who are those men down there?”

“They look like some of the logistical personnel, why?”

“Look at their uniforms! They’ve been in a pigs sty! Is this the kind of crap you have representing Mer des Ennuis to a nation we’ve grievously harmed?”

“No, sir!” said the lieutenant, his face turning red.

“Deal with it. I should take your bar for this!”

That set him off. He calmly replied

“Yes, sir, right away, sir.” The LJO saluted, snapped around, and marched down the deck. The “Ennuisians” said something to the Corinthians, and Art laughed a bit at the sight of an irate officer storming down the gang plank, shouting obsenities most of the way over. As he stomped towards the “sailors” he shouted

“Sailors, attention! Is this how you represent your nation? You look like you just fucking got out of bed! I should have you flogged!”

OOC: Not a problem. Time is getting tougher for me as well.

Two Corinthian soldiers noticed a new group of Ennusians (Wilhelmsboroughans) disembarking from their ship. They approached the group calmly, weapons slung behind their backs. "Welcome to West Corinthia, land of the free." the younger of the two soldiers said. By looks, he seemed to be no older than 18 years old.

The other soldier playfully hit him in the arm. He was obviously not much older than the other. "I apologize for my friend here. He doesn't take this job seriously. May we ask you a few questions before you go off? I'll remind you that you need to stay within the designated perimeter. Trust me, you'll know where that perimeter ends when you come it."

The other soldier now straightened up and began questioning. "What are your names and ranks? With what are you currently armed? Do you have any fruits or vegetables with you?"



Sergeant Random nodded at the two West Corinthian soldiers and stepped forward to present himself. He looked the soldier asking the questions right in his eyes, and responded in a calm and businesslike manner.

"I am Sergeant Stephen Reichart," he said, using the name printed on his (false) identification badge. "I'm in charge of these men. We have no fruits or vegetables on us. Only the gear which you see."

The other fourteen men stepped forward and gave their name and ranks. Once that was taken care of, the Sergeant spoke again.

"Do either of you know of any drinking establishments in the area?" He smiled slightly. "The boys and I are looked for a little shore leave if you know what I mean."

“Sailors, attention!"

The Sergeant jumped slightly. He and his men turned to see a Ennusian officer storm down the gangplank with fury written all over his face.

"Is this how you represent your nation? You look like you just fucking got out of bed! I should have you flogged!”

Random looked at the uniforms that he and his men were wearing. Of course they were filthy. But they were also the uniforms that Vanderlay had given them.

What was going on here? Was this a test? Random knew that he had to get out of this somehow. And it wouldn't be accomplished by being a wise-ass, or telling a bold-faced lie. He would have to be deferrent to a foreign military officer.

"On behalf of my men, I apologize for the state of our appearance, sir," said the undercover Sergeant. "There were no clean uniforms available and we had to make due with what we had, sir."

The other fourteen men stood at attention. They understood what Random was doing, but they knew in their hearts that this was bullshit. Vanderlay had roughed them up, and put them into the shape which they currently in. And now some Lieutenant on a power trip was going to chew them out?

The fourteen men of Martin Random's section were quite pissed off by these turn of events. But they stayed silent and stood at attention as their leader took the brunt of the Ennusian's abuse. For the moment, this was just a verbal lashing. But if the Ennusian Lieutenant tried to make it physical...

Location: Offshore in Corinthian waters

The WCN Tripoli finally arrived at the prison ship and carefully maneuvered into position next to it. The Field Marshal and a dozen heavily armed bodyguards in full body armor boarded a smaller landing craft which left the destroyer and pulled up alongside the prison ship. Within minutes the Field Marshal and his men were on the deck of the prison ship, face-to-face with the Ennusians.

Below them they could hear faint shouting and the resonating tone of metal banging against metal. The prisoners were still aboard, and they were obviously upset.

The Field Marshal bowed slightly to the Ennusians without taking his eyes off them. Finally he took a step nearer and removed his hat. "I am Field Marshal Valerius Ptolemy. This is a Tribunal prison ship. This ship is a symbol of something I'm not proud of, however there is something much more important beneath us. The coffins, and Aurora." he significantly lowered his voice for the final sentence, and waited for the Ennusians to react.

Location: Port of Brundisium, West Corinthia

The older of the two Corinthian soldiers answered the disguised Wilhelmsboroughan. "There are pubs and shops all along the waterfront. However, I think most of your boys are at the Drunken Knight Inn and Tavern." he pointed with his finger as he gave directions. "From here you go a quarter of a mile that way, turn left onto Main Street, and head down until you see a roadblock in the distance. It's the last pub before the road block. I once-" the soldier stopped as an Ennusian officer stormed down from the ship.

The Corinthians knew they were not part of this argument. They stood at attention while they waited for the Ennusians to work out their own problems.

The Lieutenant fumed, but now his anger was directed at the Corinthians who were questioning “his” men. The sailors weren’t back talking nearly as much as most Ennuisian sailors did, and were unusually disciplined for

“We already filled out the customs forms for the entire crew three days ago! Tell me, are all Corinthians this dense, or is it just you? Why don’t you go scuttle over to whatever hole in the ground you stored those wonderful forms and read them over yourselves!”

He turned back to “his” men, who were still surprisingly calm.

“Clean yourselves up and go… now. And this new discipline thing, I enjoy it. I haven’t given an order where I hadn’t received shit in too long. Double rations tomorrow.” He said, much more reasonably to the Wilhelmsboroughan, almost smiling.

As he started to storm off again, he stopped and turned.

“And don’t show up at quarters too sauced, and that’s an order…”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“General Jacob Veronese, at your service, Sir.” he said, saluting through the mask over a ghastly moan from the bowls of the ship. His men stood at attention. “At ease,” he commanded over his shoulder.”

"I am Field Marshal Valerius Ptolemy. This is a Tribunal prison ship. This ship is a symbol of something I'm not proud of, however there is something much more important beneath us. The coffins, and Aurora."

“Field Marshal, I understand that you are worried about the condition of your brethren, but the Disease Control Administration ordered that all coffins be sealed to prevent an outbreak. I suppose this is why your Tribunal has deemed it appropriate to quarantine them on a prison ship; the canary in the coal mine as it were. Aurora, the red death, has been held in a freezer for the last twelve years; there have been only two outbreaks since it was made, including this…”

Jacob paused for some time, listening to the sounds of the waves lap against the ships.

“What is it that you want us to do, Field Marshal?”

Location: Offshore West Corinthia

Field Marshal Ptolemy seemed to be debating with himself in his thoughts. Finally he answered the Ennusian. "I need your help. Surely you've heard about the riots that have been breaking out across the country?" he waited for a moment for Jacob to nod. "In truth, things are much worse than what you hear about. If West Corinthia continues down it's current course, I estimate a total collapse within six months. That means total anarchy, economic depression, and essentially a worse situation than during the Saint Fedski occupation."

The Field Marshal's men began checking their weapons and weapons and gear anxiously. Ptolemy motioned toward them to keep their weapons down and act normal. He turned back to Jacob. "That's not why I need your help. The Tribunal has gone too far. I wasn't ordered here to supervise the burial of our soldiers, but rather to secure a living sample of the Aurora virus. The Tribunal wants to cultivate Aurora into a weapon they can unleash onto the countryside, so that the people will not be willing to fight them. I'm not going to let that happen. There are a few people on this ship who are still loyal to the Tribunal. They must be eliminated so that the virus cannot be unleashed. You may join me, but I realize that you may want to stay out of this for political reasons."

The Field Marshal's men now attached suppressors to their Corinthian Assault Rifles and pistols. One soldier handed Ptolemy an extra rifle and a silencer. Ptolemy loaded a magazine and cocked the weapon.

Sergeant Random saluted the Lieutenant as he walked away. Then he turned to face his men, all the while remembering the nearby West Corinthian soldiers.

"You heard the Lieutenant!" Random said in a commanding voice. "Clean yourselves up immediately!"

With that, the fifteen Wilhelmsboroughan soldiers went to work cleaning off their uniforms. Dust was brushed off. Collars and lapels were straightened. Shirts were tucked in, and boots were given a rudimentary shine. They stretched out the wrinkles as best as they could, and each man helped each other clean up areas which they couldn't reach.

Five minutes later, Sergeant Random surveyed his Section with pride. They looked much cleaner. Much more respectable. They looked the way soldiers ought to be: dignified.

The Sergeant turned to the West Corinthian soldiers. "We're heading into town now. If anything serious happens, well...you'll probably hear it from back here!"

The rest of Random's men laughed as they headed off the dockside and into the city proper.

As soon as they were out of earshot from both Corinthian and Ennusian soldiers, they quickly huddled together.

"What the hell was that?" hissed Lance Corporal Smithwick. "Show some humility and he doubles our rations?"

Sergeant Random nodded. "Yes, it's almost as if he wasn't used any discipline at all. What I did was probably a like breath of fresh air for him." He thought for a moment. "Perhaps we can use that to our advantage. If we stay on his good side, we could probably get better privileges."

The undercover soldiers started walking down the harbor side road. They kept their voices down as the passed soldiers and passed under snipers on the rooftops.

"But we're supposed to be Ennusian soldiers, sir." said Private Ellis, who had been quiet up to this point. "Don't they usually get into fights and backtalk each other?"

"A good point." said Corporal Murphy. "Too much discipline might make us look suspicious."

"In that case, we should be slightly deferent to the higher-ups, and treat those equal to, or below us, like crap." said Sergeant Martin Random/ Stephen Reichart. "That ought to alley any suspicions from our so-called peers."

"Good idea," said Murphy. "Let's run with it."

"Very well then. It's settled." said the Sergeant. "Now we just got to figure out how we're going to infiltrate West Corinthia itself."

Corporal Murphy yawned. "Some other time, sir. I'm in the mood for a pint at the moment."

Sergeant Random laughed. "I think we could all use a drink for dodging a bullet at the dock."

The soldiers walked on towards the Drunken Knight Inn.

Jacob’s eyes went almost imperceptibly wide.

”Cultivate Aurora… what are they, fucking nuts?” he thought.

“I’ve heard of the riots, but this option is, how would you say, above my pay grade. Give me a minute.”

He walked away from the Corinthians who were arming themselves, and gathered his men around.

“Soldiers, you’ve heard the Field Marshal. The Tribunal is the apparent legitimate government of West Corinthia, but they cannot be that for long if they have lost control of their military. Now, it isn’t our position to play politics, that’s the State Department’s or the International Relation Directorate’s job, but we are responsible for the security of the home land.”

They all nodded in silent agreement.

“We will get orders on which side to take later, but for now, Aurora must be contained, at all costs, and cannot be allowed to enter enemy hands. That casket must remain closed. We are going to take the ship with the Field Marshal, but he is not above suspicion. If he makes any attempt to get a sample, shoot him.”

“Yes, sir” said one soldier from behind his gas mask, followed by another, and then another.

“Good. We will fight for the homeland, we will fight for Corinthia. If we succeed, no one will know we did anything. These Corinthians are good, but they are not Ennuisians. Lets show them what a real soldier fights like. Death before dishonor” said the General.

“’Tis a good day to die!” laughed one, flicking off the safety of his DR-83.II.

“Blood and honor!” exclaimed another one, cocking his SAW.

Jacob patted his holstered sidearm, and walked back to the Corinthians.

“We cannot allow Aurora to fall into the Tribunals hands. It would, quite literally, be the death of us all. We will fight with you on this night, but I cannot guarantee support beyond this. You will, quite naturally, have to speak to the Arch Arsonist about this, but we cannot wait. We are at your service.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Just before the Wilhelmsboroughans reached the Drunken Knight, a pair of military police emerged, carrying a shit-faced sailor out on their shoulders. They ignored the cadre, and continued towards a waiting MMPWV.

“Yea Murphy! Way to drink the fuckin’ nation dry!” cackled a sailor, slamming down an empty shot glass.

“Fuckin’ disgrace to the service you sailors are, make the airmen look like boy scouts” scoffed a Sergeant, holding a beer.

“You wana… you… you… wana… shay that to my… my face?” slurred another sailor, drunker than the last.

“I said. That you. Fucking. Sailors. Can’t. Fucking. Swim.” Mocked the sergeant, looking down his nose a good four inches into the sailor’s eyes. The Army had always been much more disciplined than the navy. “You look precious in those little suits.”

The sailor took a drunken swing, and fell into table when he missed. The dress greens laughed to themselves, while the dress whites were in an uproar.

“Quiet the fuck down!” shouted the captain. The bar went quiet instantly, and the lights seemed to dim. "If you can’t mind your drinks and act like the servicemen that you claim to be, so help me God I will have your sorry ass in a brig in ten seconds, and forget you existed in five.”

A soldier started clapping, but was silenced with an icy glare. The captain stormed down from the upper level he had been sitting on, and the sea of men parted in one quick step.

"Now I'm expecting a lady friend from the last time I was here. You do NOT want me to have to come back here."

Location: 15 miles north of Ancora, West Corinthia

Leonidas dragged himself into Barracks 17 after a long day in the quarry. He was a shadow of his former self. Where once stood a muscular, intimidating myrmidon, now stood a frail, broken man. He had numerous scars on his back from being whipped by guards. While most prisoners in the camp prepared for a few hours of uncomfortable sleep, the inmates of Barracks 17 prepared to make their escape.

Leonidas donned a civilian-type trench coat and pants. He had traded his wedding ring to a semi-sympathetic guard for the items. Other prisoners had done similarly. Several prisoners were posted at windows to watch for guards. Leonidas helped a few other prisoners down a hole under some floorboards before climbing down himself.

The hole was tight, dark, and damp. Anyone with claustrophobia would have instantly had a panic attack from the cramped space. Fortunately, Leonidas had been trained from childhood to deal with such conditions. A few of the other prisoners had been soldiers in the Czar's army. Leonidas slowly began the long underground crawl to the other end of the tunnel.

At the other end, the first prisoner poked his head above the surface of the earth. He looked around quickly, then ducked back underground. He was a man named Quintus, a former hoplite in the army. Descending back to the tunnel's lowest point, he addressed the other members of Barracks 17. "We're about 15 feet from the treeline, so we have to go in intervals. The search light passes a few times a minute. Wait for it to go by before you run."

Quintus ran back up the ladder to the surface. He saw the guard search light pass overhead and then sprinted into the nearby forest. The moon was covered by cloud cover, making this an especially dark night. A few other prisoners ahead of Leonidas made their escapes in turn.

Meanwhile, a group of guards knocked on the door of Barracks 17. This was a surprise inspection night. When no one opened the door, they kicked it down. It only took them a few minutes to see that the barracks was empty. A few loose floorboards pointed them to the escape tunnel. Moments later, the alarm was raised.

The sirens were first thing Leonidas could hear. Then the dogs, and finally shouting. The last few prisoners before Leonidas made a sprint for the woods, only to be gunned down by the now-alert guards. With no hope left, Leonidas and the remaining men surrendered. A few, including Quintus, did manage to escape. Leonidas came out of the tunnel slowly, hands raised in the air. A guard nearly tackled him and put him in chains. Rather than being taken back to camp, the captured prisoners were loaded onto trucks and shipped off...

OOC: give me a moment, MDE, we posted at the same time lol. Arghhh damn you Jolt! It just ate up my post about the prison ship! I'll have to re-write it tomorrow. I'm too angry at jolt to concentrate right now.

Location: Offshore West Corinthia

Field Marshal Ptolemy was quite surprised to see that the Ennusians were willing to help him. With the Corinthian political system as skewed as it was, action like this would have never been allowed without the approval of a general. Ptolemy made a mental note to overhaul the government once the Tribunal was dethroned, in order to clear much of the red tape surrounding emergency situations. He turned to the Jacob and answered, "Very well," with a slight nod of his head.

He looked back at a sentry who was patrolling on deck behind him. He gave the sentry a nod, which the sentry responded. The sentry immediately began typing onto what appeared to be a pager or a PDA. He hid the device almost as quickly as he had produced it.

Ptolemy addressed his men but in a way that the Ennusians would also hear. "I don't need to remind you of the importance of this mission. You are going against your countrymen, but they are all traitors. They have just as much blood on their hands as the Tribunal that killed Czar Vasili! We must reach the coffins on the lower levels. They will be heavily guarded and we may not all make it back alive. However, what we do today will be forever remembered in history as a heroic day. To save West Corinthia! Long live the Republic!"

"Long live the Republic!" answered the men.

Ptolemy again turned to Jacob. "I have men aboard this ship, but I've notified them to stay away from the coffin area. Most of them will either be barricaded in their rooms or working in the engine room. Everyone we see will be an enemy combatant. Are your men ready?"

The entry point was a stairwell several yards behind the Ennusians. It led down to the kitchen area.

OOC: My bad.

polite bump

*cough*

Sergeant Random/Reichart raised an eyebrow at the way the sailers and soldiers were behaving. They mutually despised each other. This would never happen in the Empire. The Joint Chiefs were all close friends, and encouraged teamwork throughout all branches of the military for the common defense of the Empire.

But as the Sergeant and his men sat down, they realized that this wasn't the case. The situation in the Pub was tense, and the addition of alcohol could only make the situation worse.

He turned to his men. "Keep your wits about you boys. Do your damndest not to be on the recieving end of a beer stein to the back of the head."

"Yes sir!" the Section replied, looking around the room looking for any potential troublemakers.

Random/Reichart took a seat at the bar. "Get me a Black Russian. My men'll just have whatever generic beer you have on tap."

OOC: Reply coming on Sunday Night; sorry for the delay