NationStates Jolt Archive

"Alright what are we looking at here? I want a full situation report and I want it yesterday," the situation in Sri Lanka had only worsened since June. While the Empire of Layarteb invaded and annexed the Federal Republic of the Amazon, fighting its way into a quagmire, Sri Lanka went ignored. The island was split, the northern and western portion controlled by the Imperial Dominion of Doomanum while the south and eastern portion was controlled by the Empire. It was a registered state of the Western Republic, one of the four republic within the Empire and one of the furthest from the Layartebian mainland, in eastern North America. Capital to capital, Layarteb City was 8,780 miles away, a far distance that required a northern travel course, over Greenland and Asia. The neglect from Layarteb City meant that, on August 17, when the situation worsened to its most critical state in history. One hundred and twelve miles north of Ratnapura, the state capital, in the Doomani city of Anuradhapura, chaos brewed. Anuradhapura had been hit hard by the summer 2007 events and it was a city of neglect and a city of 65,000 residents, many of them lower middle class, by nature. Lying along the bank of large lake to the east of the city was a nuclear powerplant. Now the Sri Lankan government, quasi-independent, was struggling to keep it under control. A dangerous chain of events began in June and now, in August, were culminating in an inevitable disaster of epic proportions.

http://www.theforsakenoutlaw.com/Graphics/Nation-States/Role-Playing/Sanctuary/srilanka-small.jpg (http://www.theforsakenoutlaw.com/Graphics/Nation-States/Role-Playing/Sanctuary/srilanka-large.jpg)

The Anuradhapura Nuclear Power Station was just one chapter of the Sri Lankan story. The first chapter began in June 2007, when Sri Lanka found itself in an extremely unfortunate situation. Things in the Doomani Imperium weren't going well. There was talk about Roman invovement in Doomani affairs and that talk seemed more than just rumor. As the Doomani Imperium began to rattle from its core, it began to bleed off its extremities. Sri Lanka was one of them and by June 9, 2007, around the same time that Layartebian bombs hit Manaus in the Amazonian republic, the government of Sri Lanka found itself in a de facto state of independence. The government also found itself in an economic disaster. Not self-sufficient, the Sri Lankan territory relied on government assistance to keep itself afloat since the majority of its spending was taken up by a voracious arms manufacturing center and military, a staplepoint of the Doomani Imperium. Instantly, corruption snuck its greedy and diseased head into Sri Lankan politics. Now more and more money was being siphoned off and more and more people were suffering. Paramilitary conflict and crime enthralled the nation and the borders of the Empire had never been so insecure.

Then, on August 10, the Anuradhapura Nuclear Power Station experienced the first in a series of unfortunate events. It was early in the morning, just after 02:00 hours, local time, which was five and a half hours later than it was at GMT, meaning that, in Layarteb City, it was 14:30 hours on August 9. The Empire did not observe any summer time although the Doomani Imperium did, creating the eleven and a half hour gap in time. Things seemed normal at the plant. The city of Anuradhapura was quiet. Overhead, airliners flew their routes and the ground, people slept, many sweltering under 80°F temperatures backed by 90% humidity and no wind. Because of the heat and the air conditioning draw, the powerplant was operating over 70% of its capacity, not a problem but a high load that the plant operators had to account for as they watched gauges and dials.

The powerplant was relatively newly built and equipped with state-of-the-art computer safety systems. It was one of the safest plants in the Doomani Imperium, a comforting fact to the 65,000 people within a few miles of its gates. However, as the load began to increase to its levels, plant operators were required to shift loads from certain transformers to others. Generators spun here and there. Things were managable until a bolt of lightning struck a power line some 80 miles from the station. Instantly, the bolt of lightning affected one of the largest substations in the Anuradhapura province. It spiked power and tripped a dozen circuit breakers at a nearby substation. Instantly, the overload was felt as the substation struggled to keep the power balance. Inside the powerplant, alarm bells sounded and experienced operators went to work to reduce the load and shift it properly. Initially, their efforts were mildly successful as the circuit breakers initiated an automated restart, controlled by the powerplant. The restart worked properly but the electrical load was horrificially imbalanced and a second lightning strike, not far from the first, completely crashed the system. The substation went completely offline with this strike and instantly, the powerplant saw its load levels increasing dramatically. Without the ability to lessen them, the powerplant's automatic safety systems engaged and immediately stopped the rapid increase in power generation.

Half of the powerplant's customers were immediately put out of power as the system began to crash. Two of its four reactors were put under safety control, meaning that they would reduce their power output to save the remainder of the station. Unfortunately, it came too late, although the safety systems worked properly and the way they were designed. Two water pumps for reactor three immediately failed, their parts melting and fusing together as a result of the dramatic increase of power generation, causing a resultant increase in both temperature and pressure. Warning lights flashed and soon enough, by 02:17 hours, eleven minutes into the shutdown of the reactors, reactor three was brought under full safety control, meaning that it no longer generated power. The plant was immediately reduced to just 75% of its capacity when it was already running at 70%. It was a sharp decrease in its power production as the operators maintained 70% on its three reactors. Load levels began to drop though as the powerplant stopped service to certain areas, decreasing its output. The substation wouldn't be fixed until August 12 and the capability to repair reactor three was at least four days away and it would be a slow process because of radiological hazards.

Three days later, on August 13, power had been restored to the affected areas although not before widespread looting and crime ravaged the grid, especially the city of Anuradhapura. Angry citizens threatened to overrun the gates of the powerplant where armed guards stood with their assault rifles, keeping the mob back. However, inside the powerplant, things weren't going well. The removal of the third reactor from the grid meant that the other three were working extremely hard. Safety systems maintained that they operated within a safe limit. Unfortunately, the computer system had another perogative. Monthly tests were on automatic schedules and they could be overridden by plant managers except, on this month, it slipped the plant manager's mind. A test initiated on the plant, which allowed the safety systems to react differently, to test whether or not they were working. Immediately, core pressure and temperature rose sharply in the three operational reactors as the safety systems were tested. Because it was a test, these numbers were allowed, whereas under normal circumstances they wouldn't have been due to additional safety precautions. Once the test began and it was realized, plant workers immediately attempted to override the plant's control systems and re-engage the control rods. They needed the plant manager's authorization and he was out of contact because he was in the bathroom. For twenty minutes, the plant workers struggled to control the reactors until the manager was finally found and reached. When the safeties were re-engaged, the plant resumed normal operational levels. Unfortunately, more damage had been done. System hardware inside of reactor two was damaged although no warnings were transmitted because they still functioned as they should. Repair on the water pumps in reactor three was underway by late that evening and continued through the next day and into August 15, when the third accident occurred.

As another fierce thunderstorm threatened the area on the afternoon of August 15, plant workers made sure that they had all of their systems online. The mobs had gone away by now and the city resumed normal life, although it was still cleaning up the mess and putting pieces back together from a night of intense looting by the city's less honorable folk. The first signs that something was wrong came just before 16:00 hours, local time, as thunder cracked overhead following lightning flashes, which didn't seem to be ground threatening. A plume of smoke began to rise from one of the pumping stations that fed into reactor two. After security reported this, plant workers, who had been paying too much attention to a soccer game, finally checked cameras. The pumping station was on fire! Fire trucks were immediately dispatched and safety systems put the second reactor under control, maximizing load on the other three, causing even more power outages, which simply fed into an already circus of chaos. The fire destroyed the entire pumping station but didn't put the reactor out of commission. Three others took over and fed the reactor when it came back online at 22:50 hours that night.

Throughout August 16, grid failures and spikes threatened the powerplant. The workers were knowledgable and some of the best. They averted three catastrophic situations in just six days and were dealing with a fourth as the mobs had returned, seventeen people already arrested for threatening the powerplant's safety zone. As the grid fluctated because of imbalancing on the powerplant's outputs, it tripped circuit breakers throughout the country at various substations. Restarts went into effect automatically but it seemed for every breaker restarted another two went offline, causing a spiraling crash. A third lightning strike shut down another substation amidst the chaos except, this time, it was 18:00 hours. Power was quickly restored this time and by midnight, the system was fixed and seemingly stable.

Unfortunately, August 17 would give them no break. The mobs had left, again. The powerplant operated normally and without problem until half of the water pumps instantly went offline, causing a catastrophic spike in reactor output. Immediately, the entire station was under threat. The four pressurized water reactors spiked hard and fast. Safety systems initiated a SCRAM and power was cut to all electric motors in the reactors, immediately dropping the control rods into place. It took just four seconds to stop the reactors but it also stopped all power output from the station. The mobs returned and this time seventy were arrested in the first ten minutes, security guards being forced to shoot and kill eleven others who brought weapons with them. Riot police worked to contain the crowds, fed up from the series of blackouts over the week. While technicians investigated the water pumps and put them back online, one by one, a second problem developed that nobody seemed to see. The SCRAM shut down the station and stopped the output of power. However, it also, unfortunately, reset the safety systems through a programming glitch that went unnoticed. As the water pumps were put back online, the safety systems reverted to a default condition, which was more or less a test condition. By 16:50 hours, the station was back online and was producing power again. However, several substations were offline. At 17:45 hours, rather than coming online in intervals, all three of them shot online, sending an immediate draw request to the powerplant. Requested levels spiked reactor production again to levels exceeding 80% - 90% of their individual capabilities. The plant workers reacted to the glitch and watched the automated systems go to work, unaware that they were seeing this as a test. At 19:48 hours, all but one reactor had come under control. Plant workers struggled now to get reactor two under control. It was producing almost 3.0 gigawatts of thermal energy, above its nominal load of 2.4 GW. Workers struggled to keep it from increasing even more. Things, seemingly, couldn't have gotten worse but they did...

The plant fluctuated dangerously as the night wore on but plant workers had been able to control some of it. The Sri Lankan government was at a crossroads. They could appeal back to their Doomani brothers or they could look to the south, to the Layartebians. Time was running out when the Sri Lankan governor, Solomon Dahanayake asked for the situation report and he wanted it immediately. It was just before 23:00 hours, local time and a Layartebian team was on its way. It would be landing in Anuradhapura in just a few minutes, their HC-130J Super Hercules on its landing approach. A team of eleven technicians and fourteen assorted personnel who were all familiar with nuclear powerplant operation, crisis management, and communications were flying in to help out the power plant. Sri Lankan diplomatic vehicles, which were modified AGF Serval lightly armored vehicles based on the highly popular Mercedes-Benz G-Class 4x4. Eight vehicles were waiting at the airport with their drivers ready to convoy, at high speed, to the powerplant. Security forces guarding its perimeter were prepared and ready for the incoming convoy. They would have them drive into a secluded rear gate of the powerplant and drive to the control center from there.

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Half an hour later, as midnight neared, the twenty-five Layartebians arrived at the powerplant and immediately began analyzing and assessing the situation. By their calculations, if they did not get the plant under control by dawn, it would experience a massive meltdown in reactor number two. They feverishly began working to stablize the system minutes after they did their initial assessment. Their HC-130J remained on the tarmac at the airport, awaiting any order to evacuate from the situation. Because the workers were already at the plant, any meltdown would instantly affect them and bathe them in lethal amounts of radiation. From there, they would order the crew of the HC-130 to evacuate without them, there was no sense having them die for nothing. All of the men knew it, they signed up for just that when they joined one of the various nuclear plant crisis teams that existed throughout the country, divisions of the ILDF.

Sri Lankan authorities in the Layartebian capital of Ratnapura were meeting with Layartebian authorities to discuss some sort of transition. Several Sri Lankan leaders realized just how badly their state had decayed in just two months and didn't feel help from the Doomani Imperium would be sufficient enough, if they even gave any. Instead, they looked south, to the Empire. A reunification of Sri Lanka had been a talking point for decades between the two countries. Sri Lankan people wanted it as well and, especially in the north, they wanted an end to the decay. Unfortunately though, for them, they would have to cut through the thicket of crime, piracy, and corruption. Machetes were, seemingly, not sharp enough to cut through it. Sri Lankan authorities were corrupt to the very core and the half dozen leaders in Ratnapura marked the least corrupt leaders that existed. They wanted the Empire to come in and save them and they saw Ratnapura as "sanctuary."They risked life and limb travelling to Ratnapura and they wouldn't be able to travel back across the border.

Before the Emperor was brought into the discussion directly, the Layartebian-Sri Lankan governor spoke at length with the ex-Doomani leaders. The goal was to establish a transition system before the Emperor ever had to say a word, to facilitiate its quickness. Crime would have to be stomped out, including an inevitable drug cartel network and piracy network. Already, six fishing boat captains had been robbed on the high seas and Layartebian coast guard vessels weren't able to catch the marauders. The Sri Lankan authorities would have to submit to military occupation for a brief period of time to restore order and though they were used to the military running their lives, they were hesitant. The Layartebians suspected as much. On deployment in the area was a whole fleet, headquarted in Matara, just over fifty miles south, southeast of Ratnapura. Discussions were underway but they were slow. When the nuclear powerplant went critical in mid-August, Layartebian authorities stressed it to their Sri Lankan dignitaries. They used it as an example of how bad the economy was, that it couldn't fully support the infrastructure. Sri Lankan dignitaries were receptive but they still feared the military occupation. It would involve a division of Marines from the 5th Amphibious Assault Group and any number of national guardsmen and army soldiers, flown in to assist with the occupation, which wouldn't be as bloody as they expected, given the economic crisis growing in Sri Lanka. There would be shooting and there would be killing, that was a necessity but it wouldn't necessarily be army vs. army it would be army vs. criminals, a wholly different war. The experience of the Marines in the Yucatán meant that they were well suited for the task.

Cataclysm was less than an hour away at 06:05 hours, local time, August 18. It was a Saturday, a beautiful Saturday throughout the country. A powerful thunderstorm was expected late in the afternoon, around 15:00 hours, powerful enough to bring torrents of rain, wind, and dangerous lightning. Throughout the wee hours of the morning, as coffee disappeared into the workers' stomachs, reactor number two continued to slide out of control. There was a bug in the system, something making it impossible to control. They couldn't simply shut down the reactor, that would cause the other three to spike in their loads and they would be facing not one but four problematic reactors. They had to isolate the problem and they had to isolate it fast. Power was gradually increasing, beyond the limits of the reactor. The reactor had spiked already to 6 gigawatts on two occasions but they managed to control it fast. The Layartebian engineers were some of the best around and they were giving the powerplant time where it would not have been able to get it. Inside of the control room it was tense and loud. People were shouting orders across the room, yelling out panel readings and formulas. On one side of the room was a table covered in handwritten notes, manuals, empty coffee cups, half eaten donuts, and not one chair. Throughout the plant, everyone was working hard, overtime. Everyone was exhausted, many barely awake but fully functional. What was on the line mattered more than personal comforts.

Then, at 05:55, everything spiraled away. As they thought they made some headway, the reactor suddenly spiked again, this time well past 6 gigawatts, to over 18 gigawatts. "SHIT!" Were the first and only words said as everyone rushed to a station. The power kept rising, sharply and in just five minutes, the powerplant was up at 24 gigawatts. The system kept getting out of control and at 06:10, the lead engineered, hunched over a panel straightened himself out.

"Sound the alarm..." Was all he said before an earthquake shook the powerplant. The reactor had spiked to an astounding 36 gigawatts and as the control rods dropped into place, they melted. The temperature in the core was off the charts, over 1,400°C and rising. Thus far though, the building had contained the heat, although pressure was increasing dramatically. A run-away, exothermic reaction had occurred and the pressure inside the reactor core was spiraling out of control. The other reactors were beginning to spike as well and their control rods dropped fully into place, shutting down each and every one of them while the second ran away. The meltdown was underway and the core immediately began its descent, through the reactor. Outside, klaxon's sounded and, throughout the town, residents were awoken as their sounds were carried across a relatively quiet and peaceful plain. In the distance, they were muffled but everyone knew what they were. The nuclear powerplant was in trouble. Residents who were keen to the sound went into panic mode. Those who weren't dismissed it. People awoke their families, rushed outside, and away. Some had suitcases in their hands, others just cradled children. Instantly, the roads became clogged as more and more people tried to get out of dodge. The horn noises awoke most of the other people, all of this within just minutes.

In the reactor plant, the containment structure was holding. There was no way to cool the system, the water pumps had failed and adding that much more water would create a massive steam explosion, increasing the pressure inside dramatically and dangerously. Then everything went foul. The core began to melt through the floor of the building as a full meltdown was underway. Once it broke through the containment building it would sink, rapidly, to the water table, where it would instantly cool and the meltdown would cease. Unfortunately, the contamination would spread. Silence wasn't inside the control room as the operators prepared for the worst. A call had already been made to the Hercules crew and they were rolling down the tarmac towards the runway. At the very least, they would survive as the radiation belched into the containment structure.

The core broke through the bottom of the building just after 06:12 hours and sank rapidly. Inside the control room, high powered video cameras that watched inside the core had melted but the building shook. The core was in excess of 2,000°C and it sank through the Earth quickly. Then it hit the water table and cooled, instantly. Unfortunately, it produced the worst enemy, steam. The steam, having nowhere to go, went up through the hole that led right up, into the reactor building. As the reactor core cooled and the steam levels increased, the pressure inside of the containment building spiked. Steam poured up, into the building as the water pumps failed, melting under the heat and now cracking, structurally underneath the vast increase in pressure. Within seconds, they exploded themselves and water poured, uncontrollably, at rates of over 2,000 gallons per minute, per pump. Steam levels exponentially increased until, suddenly, they grew too great. The earthquake from the melting core was minor compared to the explosion that happened at 06:16 hours. The whole facility and town shook with the force of a 1 kiloton bomb, 4.2 terajoules of energy. Instantly, the area measured a 4.0 on the Richter scale. The containment structure failed on all four sides and its top. The first part to go was the roof, which shattered, cracked, and disintegrated. As steam rushed through the openings of the containment building, it expanded, rapidly and concrete and various other materials inside of the walls cracked and splintered. Walls crumbled away rapidly and though the meltdown had stopped, it was no longer contained. Radiation belched into the air and the cataclysmic had occurred.

Madras Air Base
Chennai, Tamil Nadu

It was a warm and sunny morning, just like most of the mornings here in India, but it was still no excuse for the pilots and crewmen in the military part of Chennai International Airport, better known as Madras Air Base to the Royal Cottish Air Force, to skip work and stay at the pristine beaches all day either. No, instead of sleeping in and going to the beach, the two pilots and seven mission specialists were up before five in the morning and right now, at just a little before six o’clock in the morning, sitting in their aircraft, a P-14/A Poseidon multi-mission maritime aircraft attached to the 33. Maritime Patrol Group which was based at Madras AB, going through the final checklists and getting ready to conduct this morning’s mission, a standard ocean patrol mission that would take them from just off Chennai, south towards the southern tip of Tamil Nadu over the Gulf of Mannar, and then back north again to land at Chennai in the early afternoon.

The P-14/A Poseidon was a militarized version of the Boeing 737-800ERX, the latest incarnation of the world’s most successful commercial airliner. Measuring a little over 38.5 meters long and 12.8 meters tall with a wingspan of 35.81 meters, the Poseidon had plenty of room for its nine-person crew and the vast array of sensors and other monitoring and detection equipment. Although the primary mission of the Poseidon was maritime observation and anti-submarine warfare, the aircraft was also quite capable in the role of electronic and signals intelligence gathering and anti-surface combatant warfare. Equipped with an internal weapons bay in the rear of the aircraft with a rotary launcher which could hold up to seven hundred and fifty kilograms of ordinance on each of its eight mounts and four external under-wing hardpoints capable of holding up to seven hundred and fifty kilograms each, the Poseidon could carry AGM.5/A AMESM multimission strike missiles and Mark 50 Mod 2 Barracuda lightweight anti-submarine torpedoes, as well as a large quantity of advanced sonar buoys. For this mission, two AMESMs and four Barracudas were carried internally, leaving the wing hardpoints bare to reduce drag and thus conserve fuel.

A few minutes later, the checklists had been completed, the aircraft had taxied to the runway, clearance had been given, and the coffee had started to be brewed back in the small galley in the back of the aircraft. After receiving the final clearance for takeoff, the two pilots revved up the two CTJE-3A-2006 turbofan engines and kept the 77,000 kilogram heavy aircraft steady as the two engines provided more than 51,000 kilograms of thrust, propelling the aircraft down the runway.

Moments later, the aircraft was in a steep climb, heading for the standard altitude of 5,000 meters at a climb rate of 400 meters per minute. In twelve and a half minutes, the P-14/A Poseidon would be at its cruising altitude and on station. Its callsign was SEAGULL 2-1.

About an hour’s time later, SEAGULL 2-1 was cruising over the Palk Strait at a leisurely 550 kilometers per hour, or 296 knots. It had been an uneventful mission, with the only thing being detected that was somewhat abnormal being a small school of whales some one hundred kilometres off the coast of Chennai. So, the mission crew in the back were chatting among themselves while sipping their coffee, keeping half an eye on the sensors as they spoke. The mission was a routine one, which had been carried out every single day since the establishment of a Cottish maritime patrol presence in India several years ago. That was when the shit hit the fan.

As the mission specialist, a young lieutenant fresh out from training finished a rather humorous anecdote about the Russian president and what he most likely did with his secretary, a deep-pitched alarm went off and a red light with a strange marking started flashing. Putting down the cup and checking his mission station, the lieutenant gulped and immediately started cold-sweating. The reason became clear a few seconds later when the lieutenant had conducted a quick diagnostic of the sensor and found it to be functioning perfectly.

”Radiologisk alarm, ukjent kilde.” [Radiological alarm, unknown source.] He called out over the intercom system, letting everyone in the aircraft know that the sensitive sensors in the aircraft had picked up the radioactive particles that had been spewed out into the atmosphere from Anuradhapura a little over an hour prior.

The initial reaction to the Cottish airmen were that of confusion, but they all had been trained for an event such as this – the Cottish were fond of the use of nuclear energy to power both the civilian and military infrastructure as well as the majority of their warships – but the airmen had never expected to have to put it into practice. Still, they knew the drill.

“Nadu Command, this is SEAGULL 2-1. BROKEN ARROW, repeat BROKEN ARROW. An unidentified radiological alarm has been tripped over Palk Strait. Request instructions. Over.”

Tamil Nadu Joint Command & Control Center (Nadu Command)
Yercaud Air Base, 14 kilometers outside Attur, Tamil Nadu

In the Joint Command and Control Center for Tamil Nadu, codenamed Nadu Command on the encrypted airwaves, the message from SEAGULL 2-1 was received by a Air Force Captain who acknowledged the message and told them to stand by before quickly scribbling down what he had and ran past the large hall to the Army Colonel who sat there, drinking coffee and reading a report. The Colonel received the report and read it quickly before he told the Captain to return to his station. He then read it once again, cursed under his breath, and got up from the comfy chair and walked quickly over to a tinted-glass door and knocked twice before entering.

”Herr General, beklager forstyrrelsen men vi har en BROKEN ARROW.” [General, appologies for the interruption but we’ve got a BROKEN ARROW.] The Colonel said as calmly as he could, ignoring the half-dressed Brigader General who was halfway through watching a brand new Roman DVD that had recently arrived from the Soldier Welfare Organization, an organization meant to provide the soldiers with creature comforts to take their minds off the hardships of the military service.

The Brigader General looked up at the Colonel as he pressed the pause button on the DVD remote, freezing the image of the film midway through an action-paced fighting scene, saying only, ”Hva?” [What?]

The Colonel handed the quickly scribbled down note to the Brigader General, who quickly read it before he read it again, an expression of disbelief on his face.

”Var det en atomeksplosjon?” [Was it a nuclear detonation?]

”Vi vet ikke enda. Poseidon’en sa bare at de hadde oppdaget abnormal radioaktiv aktivitet i luften, ikke noe mer.” [We don’t know yet. The Poseidon only said that they’d detected abnormal radioactive activity in the air, but nothing more.]

”Hvor tror du det kommer fra?” [Where do you think it comes from?] The Brigader asked after a few seconds of silence.

”Dette er bare spekulasjon fra min side, men vi har mottatt etterretningsrapporter om uroligheter på Sri Lanka i forbindelse med den Doomaniske kollapsen der. Det var noe snakk om et kjernekraftverk som holdt på å gå den gale veien. Vi vet at Layartebianerne har sendt noen eksperter på kjernekraftverk for å prøve å fikse situasjonen, men vi aner ikke hvordan dette har gått. Jeg tror at vi snakker om et kjernekraftverk som har gått i luften.” [This will just be speculation from my side, but we have been receiving intelligence briefs on civil unrest in Sri Lanka that are related to the Doomani collapse. There were some talks about a nuclear power plant that wasn’t doing too well too. We know that the Layartebians have sent some nuclear power plant experts of some sort over there to try to fix it, but we have no idea how they’ve been faring. In my honest opinion, I believe that we’re talking about a nuclear power plant blowing up.]

The Colonel took a deep breath as he waited for the Brigader General’s response to the speculation. The Brigader said nothing. Instead, he pressed the stop button on the DVD remote and put on his uniform jacket before finally saying something.

”Er du sikker?” [Are you sure?]

”Nei, jeg er ikke helt sikker, men jeg har en ganske stygg magefølelse.” [No, I’m not a hundred percent certain, but I’ve got a pretty ugly gut feeling.]

The Brigader General and the Colonel had worked together for three years now, and the Brigader knew that the Colonel’s gut feeling had a tendency of being correct. He therefore nodded to the comment and motioned for him to follow.

”Hvis det du sier er riktig, så har vi en stor katastrofe foran oss. Større enn den Celtayoshiske reaktoren som gikk i lufta for tredve år siden i Ukraina.” [If what you’re saying is true, then we’ve got a big disaster ahead of us. Bigger than the Celtayoshi reactor that blew up in the Ukraine thirty years ago.] The Brigader said as they walked out into the main hall, which was where all the action took place. He walked up to the large desk in the back of the hall where all the data was compiled and put into perspective.

“Er flyet vårt i området enda?” [Is our aircraft still in the area?]

“Ja.” [Yes.]

“Beordre det til å forbli i området og å følge situasjonen nøye. Få Madras til å sende opp en drone eller to og, få dem og til området. Og skaff meg Etterretningen på telefonen. Jeg vil ha satellitter over Sri Lanka og hele det Indiske hav ellers. Vi må finne ut hvor i helvete denne radioaktiviteten kommer fra!” [Order it to remain in the area and to monitor the situation closely. Get Madras to send up a drone or two as well, get them to the area as well. And get me Intelligence on the horn. I want satellites over Sri Lanka and the rest of the Indian Ocean. We’ve got to find out where the fuck all this radioactivity comes from!]

Less than an hour later, three brand new satellites were tasked with fine-combing the island of Sri Lanka to see if they could find out where the radioactivity came from. The satellites were all part of the Beyond Top Secret Project Imsdal, which was the codename for the brand new intelligence gathering satellites the Cottish had been forced to develop and produce after the Spizanians in a moment of madness had obliterated the world’s satellite network, including their own, after a limited nuclear exchange with the Realm. The Spizanians had eventually been forced to apologize for their actions and pay compensation to everyone affected, including Cotland.

The money had been wisely spent, paying for twenty-four highly classified satellites of the type ORS-1 Midas, which were equipped with a wide variety of sensors and cameras that operated in a variety of spectrums, which included among others infrared, thermal imaging, television, RADAR imaging, and high-resolution cameras with a resolution of 0.05 meters. They were powered by a small nuclear reactor and by the solar cell panels that covered the back of the satellite, which was constantly facing away from the planet Earth. The satellites communicated with each other and with the ground control stations through a random encrypted 2048-bit datalink which made tapping into them next to impossible. The satellites were all classified Beyond Top Secret, and while most were placed in geosynchronous orbit, they were all classified as commercial communications satellites. Most even were labelled as such. Not that anyone would come near enough to see that though, as the self defense measures the Midas satellites were equipped with included four defensive kinetic energy missiles with a tungsten rod as the warhead and a range of 200 kilometers, and a high-capacity LASER system that would blind any satellite that strayed too close to the Midas. The LASER beam would activate if something came within 80 kilometers of the satellite without transmitting the highly classified authentication code that disabled the defensive system, with the missiles activating if it came within 50 kilometers. The satellites were expensive though, costing somewhere around $450 million a piece, but with a life expectancy of ten years.

Three of these satellites had been redirected to observe Sri Lanka right now, and they were scanning the surface meticulously. It wouldn’t be long before Anuradhapura Nuclear Power Station and the tell-tale signs of what had happened there became obvious to the Cottish intelligence community, and to Nadu Command shortly thereafter. Many people took a deep sigh of relief when they learned that there had been no nuclear weapons involved in the incident, which was a good thing, but the situation was still dangerous. The incident was immediately classified as an INES (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Nuclear_Event_Scale) Level 6 Nuclear Incident, due to the damages visible on the satellite images and the fact that radioactivity had been detected far away from the detonation site, and flash warnings went out to the Cabinet, the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Defense Ministry, the military commands in India, and to the civilian administrators of Cottish India. There would be many meetings this morning, and many people had to make a lot of tough decisions.

For Nadu Command, the next thing on the list was getting one of the Q-37/A Mariner UAVs that were being sent on its wings over the power station to get a closer look of the situation. It was only then, when the Cottish had gathered enough information that they would truly act. It would be some time before the Mariner could get itself over Anuradhapura Nuclear Power Station though, flying at a leisurely 360 kilometers per hour at an altitude of 14,000 meters. They didn't expect for it to be stopped though, as the northern parts of Sri Lanka still were in a state of semi-anarchy with no real defense organization intact, and the UAV was a low-observability one, showing up on RADAR as nothing more than a large bird.

In Norway, the cabinet members were starting to receive wake-up calls from their respective offices and were informed of the situation, with Prime Minister Rothsky calling in for an emergency cabinet meeting at 7 AM that morning (it was still only 4 AM in Norway). That way, the intelligence community and Nadu Command would have more time to get a clearer picture of what the hell was happening and thus provide the Cabinet with more information, information that could be vital in order for them to make the correct decisions.

Meanwhile, Nadu Command prepared for the worst and started looking at its contingency plans for how to handle a nuclear fallout incident...

OOC: Actually on August 18, the wind was moving about 4 mph to the southwest, weather report (http://www.weatherunderground.com/history/station/43421/2007/8/18/DailyHistory.html?req_city=NA&req_state=NA&req_statename=NA). Didn't get a chance to post it yet.

The radioactive cloud wafted not only over the control center but further to the southwest, traveling with a 4 mph, light breeze. The town was in immediate danger and the Sri Lankan government was informed. Crisis management teams were sent immediately to Anuradhapura but they were over an hour away. The Layartebians were one step ahead of the Sri Lankans. During the course of the crisis, one of the thirty-five teams of the Quick Response Force, although not to be confused with the 12th Army Quick Reaction Force.

The Quick Response Force (QRF) is a highly specialized unit within the Imperial Layartebian Defense Forces, particularly the Interior Ministry troops. They are under the direct command of the Ministry of the Interior. Their job, when called into duty, is to contain, investigate, and operate within biological, chemical, and radiological disaster zones. They were called to react in Jaymont, Vermont, when Quebecoi rebels unleashed a powerful chemical agent that decimated the population. They were called to Saint George's when terrorists set off a 5 kiloton nuclear bomb, decimating the city. Their efforts there helped not only find out the actual bomb but where it was built, where it had been, and eventually to who set off the weapon. Little was yielded from interrogation efforts, unfortunately. Though military, in nature, the QRF is a federal unit and operates under federal guidelines; however, they are designed to work alongside military personnel and in threat environments. They had already been stationed some 30 miles due southeast of the powerplant when the meltdown occurred. They were now called to action. They had commandeered an inactive military base that had been closed in early 2000 in favor of a much larger and more advanced one just a few miles away. It had not been maintained since and they landed on a weed infested runway with one NC-130J Super Hercules, based on Little Andaman, in the Andaman Islands, almost 900 miles due east of the powerplant. Other aircraft landed as well, all of them carrying sensitive data and two reconnaissance helicopters. Originally, the QRF used just the NH-96C Panther for their reconnaissance duties but their airframes were old, aged, and worn out, in need of replacement. Recently, they had upgraded to the NH-102D helicopter, which had been bought from Ironcia as the SH-102A Sea Lord, a replacement for the SH-97 Serpent. The airframe proved versatile and several SH-102As were converted to the NH-102D standard and the "Sea" of their name was dropped for "Glow." The NH-102D Glow Lord was far more capable and two of them were transported to the area, inside a single C-29A Titan, a Cottish airframe.

Suited up and ready they rolled the NC-130J down the runway just 10 minutes after the blast, which registered on their seismographs. When the departing HC-130 put in the distress call, they snapped into action, ready to go to work. Suited up in contamination suits, they rolled their NC-130 into the air in less than 8 minutes and assumed an altitude of 8,000 feet. Weather reports showed the wind to be blowing to the southwest, from the northeast at a light 4 mph, gusting to only 7 mph. A severe thunderstorm watch loomed for the afternoon but that was hours away. By 06:16 hours, the NC-130 was over Anuradhapura and the whole incident was fed back to the command center. They watched live as the powerplant undid itself. Soon, the NH-102Ds would fly. Given the situation, Layartebian authorities immediately pressed the Sri Lankans to allow them a further roll in containing the situation since it was heading for an international disaster. The radioactive cloud would move over the town and over the rest of a corridor of Sri Lanka and out to sea. Then, 550 miles away, were the Maldives, Spizanian controlled territory. Relations between the Empire and Spizania were frigid, if that even although, technically, this wasn't a Layartebian incident, although Layartebian authorities and forces would be the best hope the Sri Lankans had. It was simply an accident, a flaw in the design of the powerplant and the forces of nature that spiralled out of hand, nothing sinister.

It was going to be balmy, 94°F that day with an average humidity of 72%, peaking 90%. Visibility would extend to 10.5 miles and at the time of the accident, the humidity was already 90% with a temperature of 82°F. It was sticky, uncomfortable, and clear. Though a beautiful beach day, it was nothing like that in Anuradhapura as residents clawed to escape the city, unaware that they had already been bathed in radioactive particals and that their best hope was to stay where they were, in the city, until help arrived and they went through decontamination. Layartebian authorities and equipment would be their best hope.

Inside of the control room, as the reactor began to undergo its final stages of criticality, the Layartebian leader looked around the room. It was only moments after the roof blasted off and crumbled. He looked only at a picture in his wallet, a picture of his deceased daughter. "Gentlemen. There's no sense taking the radiation drugs. We're already dead. We've got maybe two weeks left on this Earth. If that. We did our best. You did your best. This one ran away from us. There was nothing we could do. We'll put on the suits and report to the hospital. Please. Two weeks. Spend it with your loved ones but don't irradiate them." He turned around and walked out of the control room. Moments later, a gunshot echoed in the corridors of the powerplant. He would rather have died quickly than the slow, extremely angonizing death associated with lethal radiation poisoning.

Evacuation of the city couldn't have been easy. The Sri Lankans were prepared as they had been under Doomani leadership. They had the right training and the right equipment. They even had the right SOPs but they lacked one thing, which was calm. The nuclear disaster was something they had never seen before. The Layartebians had never had such an accident either but they were prepared. When the NC-130J flew overhead, readings showed that dangerous amounts of radiation were spreading, including iodine-131, which had a short half-life of just 5 to 8 days but was very dangerous. Caesium-137 and Strontium-90, both with half-lives exceeding 25 years would remain in addition to many other radioactive elements. The winds would carry the radioactive cloud to the south, possibly as far away as the African coast. When the storm arrived overhead it would absorb a good amount of the radiation and carry it further, raining it down on unsuspecting lands. Based on model estimates, the accident was expected to dump an astonishing 5 to 6 exabecquerels of radioactive material into the atmosphere.

The NC-130 cleared the QRF team in shortly after its initial patrols. On the ground, Sri Lankan officials, doning contamination suits linked up with Layartebian forces doing the same. They herded people onto buses with whatever they had in their hands and quickly moved them out of the hot zone. They would be taken some twenty miles away and then ran through individual decontamination. It was a harrowing ordeal. People would be forced to walk through the decontamination modules completely naked. Women went to one line, men to another. Children remained with one or the other parent and everyone would be given a number card. The process was a stark contrast to the evacuation at the city. Here, it would be organized whereas, the herding of people onto the buses wasn't. Sri Lankan officials, realizing the danger of each passing minute forced the city's residents on the buses, many of them at gunpoint. Families were, inevitably, split up although they could hope for reunification back at the decontamination site, where Layartebian authorities took control. They listened to the stories of the evacuation throughout the entire course, many of them dissatisifed with how the Sri Lankans had acted.

Overhead, the NH-102D flew towards the reactor. The plant had already been evacuated and helicopters were already dumping tons upon tons of sand, lead, and boric acid onto the reactor, to contain the contamination. Thousands of helicopters from all around Sri Lanka were commendeered for this task, many would never be able to be used again. Even C-130 Hercules aircraft were used, although they were used in much less frequency because of the inherent inaccuracy of their drops. They would fly overhead and using parachutes, drop specialized pallets of these items overhead. Barometric sensors onboard would open the bottoms of the pallets and spread the material inside. At least 55% of these drops would miss the target because of wind and hastly made calculations.

Immediate communications were sent to countries within the region that the powerplant had suffered a critical meltdown and that radioactive materials had been released into the atmosphere and were heading to the southwest. The Maldives were sent the message first. It was estimated that, by nightfall, the Maldives would receive the radioactive cloud. Luckily for them, there was 500 miles of water between them and the powerplant. They could be spared a good portion of the brunt of the radiation.

Oslo, Norway
06:50 AM [CET] - 18 August 2007

The morning of the eighteenth was a pretty morning in Oslo, with the weather forecasters promising a sunny day with twenty-one degrees centigrade. The Saturday was perfectly quiet this early, with only the newspaper boys, the police officers on their normal beats, and the street sweepers out on the streets, delivering the morning newspapers, keeping the peace, and cleaning up the little garbage that lay in the streets from the night's party people after the bars, pubs and clubs closed for the evening at four AM, almost three hours ago.

The only interruption to the quiet streets were the many black Mercedes-Benz S600 sedans that rolled quickly through the nearly empty streets, all heading for the same area - the Government Plaza near Akershus Fortress. To the few people out in the streets that saw the expensive luxury sedans roll past, it would seem, and rightly so, that there was something going on since so many big-shots were heading for the office so early on a Saturday morning.

Down at the Government Plaza, the sedans all drove down to the underground parking complex underneath the fifteen-story Building H, which was where the Prime Minister's Office was located. Passing quickly through the security checkpoint at the entrance to the parking complex, the sedans came to a halt at the double doors in the second parking basement, which was reserved for the cabinet members, allowing the two guards at the doors to open the car door to allow the minister to get out of the car and the double doors themselves, which led to a marble-floored lobby with a clerk sitting at an oak desk next to the elevator doors. The respective ministers signed in by swiping their ID cards through the electronic reader, allowing them access to the elevator which led directly to the fourteenth floor, where the Cabinet meeting room was located.

http://img168.imageshack.us/img168/939/statsministerenskontorklf2.jpg

In the meeting room, which was a sound-proofed room with armed guards guarding the double doors that were the only entrance to the room, most of the cabinet had already arrived along with invited guests. These guests were the Director of the Cottish Military Intelligence Agency, the Commanding General from the High Command, the Director of the Civil Defense Agency, and on videolink from India, the Governor of South India, which encompassed Kerala, Tamil Nadu, Pondicherry and Car Nicobar Island, and the Brigader General from Nadu Command. While they waited, the various ministers and guests discussed the situation quietly with each other and their aides, sharing what little information they had while Prime Minister Rothsky spoke in his cellphone.

It was a little before seven that Rothsky hung up the cellphone and summoned the people to find their places so the meeting could begin. The people finished their conversations and took theirs seats quickly, quickly settling down so the meeting could begin. It wouldn't be a very long meeting, as time was of the essence.

"Mine damer og herrer, som dere alle vet har en katastrofe skjedd nær våre territorier i India. For å raskt oppsummere hendelsesforløpet: Et av våre maritime patruljefly var på en standardpatrulje i Cottisk farvann da det oppdaget økte radioaktive strålingsnivåer i luften. Flyet handlet da etter rutinene og slo full alarm, noe som medførte at beredskapen i sydøstlige India ble hevet. Våre venner i Etterretningstjenesten har etablert at årsaken for denne radioaktive strålingen er at et kjernekraftverk på Sri Lanka har gjennomgått en katastrofal nedsmeltning, noe som har spydd ut enorme radioaktive nivåer i luften. Jeg overlater med det ordet til admiral Fleischer fra Etterretningstjenesten." [Ladies and gentlemen, as you all know, a disaster has struck near our Indian territories. To quickly go through the chain of events: One of our maritime patrol aircraft was on a standard patrol in Cottish waters when it detected increased radioactive radiation levels in the air. The aircraft promptly acted according to the established guidelines and raised the alarm, which again resulted in an increased readiness level in south-eastern India. Our friends in the Intelligence Agency has established that the cause for this radioactive raditation is that a nuclear power plant in Sri Lanka has suffered a catastrophic meltdown, which has spewed enormous levels of radioactivity into the atmosphere. With that said, I ask Admiral Fleischer from the Intelligence Agency to give us his report.]

The attention of the shocked cabinet turned to the elderly man dressed in an anonymous blue suit, sitting on a chair along the side of the room. The man rose and straightened his jacket slightly before speaking, his voice reflecting the decades of experience and the academic mind that hid beneath the anonymous features of the man.

"Takk herr statsminister. Satellitt-etterretning har påvist at kjernekraftverket ved Anuradhapura i det nordvestlige Sri Lanka, den eks-Doomaniske delen, har gjennomgått en nedsmeltning. Dette er videre bekreftet gjennom en haste-kommuniké vi mottok fra det Layartebianske utenriksministeriet for mindre enn en time siden. Våre analytikere anslår at nedsmeltningen og den påfølgende eksplosjonen som følgte av overtrykket i reaktorbygningen detonerte med en kraft som tilsvarer en ett-kilotonns atombombe. Dette er riktignok bare syv prosent av Hiroshima-bomben, men det er mer enn nok til å skape enorm ødeleggelse, som vi kan se her på dette satellittbildet som er cirka to timer gammelt. Hendelsen ble klassifisert som en nivå seks hendelse på INES skalaen, men dette er nå oppdatert til nivå syv av Etterretningstjenesten." [Thank you Prime Minister. Satellite reconnaissane has shown that the nuclear power station at Anuradhapura in the north-western Sri Lanka, the ex-Doomani part of the island, has suffered a meltdown. This was further confirmed by a flash communiqué we received a little under an hour ago. Our analysts estimate that the meltdown and subsequent explosion that followed from the overpressure in the reactor building detonated with a force roughly equivalent to a one kiloton nuclear bomb. It is true that this is only about seven percent of the Hiroshima bomb, but it's more than enough to cause widespread devestation, which we can see here on this satellite image that is approximately two hours old. The incident was classified as a level six incident on the INES-scale, but this has now been updated to level seven by the Intelligence Agency.]

The admiral pressed a button, making the black 42" LCD TV hanging on the far wall flicker to life and reveal a satellite image of Anuradhapura Nuclear Power Station, taken from an altitude of 200 kilometers but zoomed in enough to show the massive devestation caused by the explosion.

"Den radioaktive strålingen som ble frigjort av denne eksplosjonen har potensialet til å legge dette området øde i minst tjuefem år. Tapstall er enda ikke kjente, men vi antar at rundt hundre til tusen døde som en direkte følge av eksplosjonen, og med strålingen og den økte kreftfaren kan vi regne med mange tusen døde over tid. Når det er sagt så kan vi trøste oss med at vindretningen fører strålingen sørvest-over, ut over det Indiske hav og vekk fra våre territorier. Vi kommer ikke, jeg gjentar, ikke, til å bli rammet av denne hendelsen. De første som kommer til å bli rammet, bortsett fra befolkningen på Sri Lanka, er den Spizaniske bosetningen på Maldivene." [The radioactive radiation that was released in the explosion has the potential of leaving the area deserted for at least twenty-five years. Casualty numbers are not known as of yet, but we assume that between a hundred and a thousand people lost their lives in the explosion, and with the radiation and the increased cancer risk, we can expect many thousands dead over the span of time as a result of this incident. With that being said, we can find some comfort in the fact that the winds are blowing the radiation towards the southwest, out over the Indian Ocean and away from our territories. We will not, I repeat, not, be affected by this incident. The first ones to be hit, save of course from the Sri Lankan population, is the Spizanian settlement on the Maldives.]

The room was silent as the admiral returned to his seat and sat back down. The information that had been presented to the cabinet had been new and unknown for the most part, and while there was some good news in the fact that Cottish territories wouldn't be hit, there was a somber afterthought that Sri Lanka, a mostly Layartebian holding, was going to be badly hit. The next to say anything was the Transportation Minister.

"Så hva gjør vi nå?" [So what do we do now?]

The Foreign Minister: "Vi har ikke mottatt en forespørsel om nødhjelp fra den Sri Lankiske interim-regjeringen enda, men jeg foreslår at vi hjelper til der vi kan. Jeg tror at våre Layartebianske venner gjør det samme." [We haven't received a requrest for humanitarian aid from the Sri Lankan interim government yet, but I suggest that we assist where ever we can. I think our Layartebian friends are doing the same.]

The Defense Minister: "Jeg er enig med utenriksministeren. Dersom vi kan hjelpe så bør vi det. Luftvåpenet har en transportgruppe stasjonert ved Palani flybase i Tamil Nadu med tjuefire tunge transportfly av typen C-15 Kondor. Disse flyene kan frakte utrolig mye utstyr hver, og de kan lande på provisoriske landingsbaner. De kan og evakuere mange personer hver dersom det trengs. Vi burde tilby Sri Lankanerne nødhjelp som blir flydd inn av disse flyene." [I agree with the Foreign Minister. If we can help, we should. The Air Force has a transport group stationed in Palani airbase in Tamil Nadu with twenty-four heavy transport aircraft of the type C-15 Kondor. These aircraft can each carry a tremendous amount of stuff, and they can land in makeshift landing strips. They can also evacuate a lot of people if it comes to that. We should offer the Sri Lankans humanitarian aide that's flown in with these aircraft.]

The Health Minister: "Vi har en god del forsyninger liggende på lager i Tamil Nadu. Masse humanitære saker som nødrasjoner, rent drikkevann, medisiner, tepper. Alt som trengs. I tillegg er jeg sikker på at jeg kan klare å skaffe et feltsykehus eller to og leger som kan sendes til Sri Lanka dersom det kreves. Det er nok en del humanitære organisasjoner som kan hjelpe til og. [We've got a lot of supplies lying in storage in Tamil Nadu. A lot of humanitarian items such as emergency rations, clean drinking water, medicines, blankets. Everything that's needed. Additionally, I'm sure I can manage to scrounge up a field hospital or two and the doctors needed to man it that can all be sent to Sri Lanka if it's needed there. There's probably quite a few humanitarian organizations that can help out too.]

Rothsky listened to these proposals, nodding to them before he glanced at his watch. He had to call the vote soon so they could send the offer to the Sri Lankans and get a reply. The sooner they sent the offer, the sooner the Sri Lankans would reply, and the sooner the much needed assistance would arrive in the areas where it was needed. It was time to call the vote.

"Greit, da har vi et forslag om å sende et tilbud om humanitær assistanse fra India til Sri Lanka. Alle som er for forslaget avlegger sin stemme ved å rekke opp handen." [Alright, then we have a proposal to send an offer of humanitarian aide from India to Sri Lanka. All in favor of the proposal will cast their vote by raising their hand.] Rothsky said, raising his own hand as he counted the votes. Only the ministers were allowed to vote at this table, and all ministers voted in favor of the proposal.

"Forslaget er vedtatt. Utenriksministeren skal umiddelbart forfatte et brev som tilbyr vår støtte slik det er kommet fram i forslaget her og sende det til de rette myndigheter på Sri Lanka. Forsvarsministeren og helseministeren skal umiddelbart foreta de nødvendige grep for å få sørget for at vi er klare til å sende assistansen så snart som mulig etter vi får et positivt svar fra Sri Lanka. Det var alt for denne gang. Vi treffes igjen i ettermiddag klokken tre for å diskutere veien videre. Inntil da er møtet hevet. Takk for at dere tok dere tid til dette møtet, og Gud bevare Kongen." [The proposal is passed. The Foreign Minister will immediately write a letter offering Sri Lanka the support as the proposal has decreed it and send it to the proper authorities in Sri Lanka. The Defense Minister and Health Minister will immediately make the necessary preperations to make sure we're ready to send the aid as soon as possible after we receive a positive reply from Sri Lanka. That is all for now. We'll meet again this afternoon at three o'clock to discuss the next steps. Until then, this meeting is adjourned. Thank you for your time, and God save the King.]

The ministers all rose and spoke in unison, God save the King. It was an ancient tradition at the end of a cabinet meeting to show their respect for the King, and a fitting one at that as the cabinet's official title was "His Majesty the King of Cotland's Council."

With that, the ministers and invited guests all left the room, most of them not having had a chance to say a word as the situation had changed dramatically since they had all received the flash warnings in the middle of the night. It was all good though, as they didn't really want to think about the nightmare scenario that would happen if all that radiation was to hit Tamil Nadu, which had a population of more than sixty-two million.

Less than an hour later, the following communiqué was sent from the Cottish Foreign Ministry.

Official Communiqué

To: Foreign Office, Northern Sri Lanka
From: Foreign Ministry, Realm of Cotland
Copy: Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Empire of Layarteb
Subject: Offer of Humanitarian Aid

To whoever it may concern,

The Realm of Cotland has become aware of the incident at Anuradhapura, and would like to offer its deepest sympathies to the nation of Northern Sri Lanka in this most troubling time. While accidents are tragically unpredictable and randomly occuring, they never the less inflict great difficulties on those affected by them.

We are aware that the price of this disaster is high, especially on the population in the area, and we would like to offer assistance in any way we can. To be more specific, the Royal Cottish Air Force is prepared to fly in a large shipment of humanitarian aid to the region if you so require. This humanitarian aid includes both clean drinking water, medication, and food, and can also include up to two field hospitals complete with staff that can greatly help alleviate your own hospitals.

This is an offer that is completely without strings attached, and will remain standing for the duration of this incident for you to accept. If you accept the offer, the first aircraft with aid should be arriving in the designated area within a few hours.

We await your reply.


Sincerely,

The Foreign Minister
Foreign Ministry
The Realm of Cotland

The Cottish communiqué was received with a sense of relief, despite the efforts of the Empire. The Empire was, more or less, in full control of the operation to contain the disaster but they couldn't do it alone, it was just too big of a job.

Official Communiqué

To: Foreign Ministry, Realm of Cotland
From: Department of State Affairs, North Sri Lanka
Copy: Earth II
Subjet: Re: Offer of Humanitarian Aid

We appreciate the offer of assistance from the Cottish Realm and wish to have it enter our country and force immediately. This disaster is global in its reaches and its proportions. The Empire of Layarteb has offered us great and wonderful assistance with this disaster and are currently assisting with the bulk of the containment and decontamination of all affected persons. We currently have a death toll of forty-two from this disaster and we expect double that within the next two weeks due to radiation poisoning.

Despite the impact globally, the local impact is exponentially worse. We will have to cordon off an area approximately twenty-five miles in diameter, which will be an exclusion zone. This area will not be able to sustain long-term life for over 100 years and immediately around the powerplant and the powerplant itself, it may take over 1,000 years before human life can safely return. Currently, the reactor is exposed to the atmosphere and more radiation is escaping. We are currently dropping lead, sand, and boric acid into the reactor to contain the spread of radiation but we cannot do it quikc enough.

We appeal to the world to help us in this endeavor. We must also build a containment shelter around the reactor that can last for 100 years and be weather resistant. This will be costly but we cannot do it alone. We need humanitarian aide and we need support. Please help us control this terrible accident.


Sincerely,

Junius Banda Senanayake
President of Sri Lanka

The Sri Lankan situation had stopped its sharp, chaotic climb towards unknown. The reactor accident was over with and being contained, although that would take months to do so properly. Until then, lead, sand, and boric acid would be dumped into the reactor building from helicopters above. Few around the world reacted, even those within the path of the radiation, which was surprising. Whatever methods they undertook within their own borders could only be so successful given the lack of international attention.

A bigger crisis was looming though, a crisis that few knew about at all. The Sri Lankan economy was in the toilet. The government was just days away from declaring a financial crisis. The treasury was gone, empty, and now they had to pay for the disaster. There was no way they could do it and appeal to their Doomani brothers yielded only insults. They were left with one choice and one choice only. The Layartebians had made it clear, from the beginning, that the economy of Sri Lanka was in the tank and it was only getting worse and that Layartebian intervention could avert disaster. It would require sacrifices, like the withdrawal of sovereignty. Sri Lanka would be united again but this time under the Layartebian flag. The south looked forward to the idea and the north was optimistic but not won over yet. Crime and corruption dominated the north and that would end if the Empire came in with its laws and edicts. The way of life would change but they would be safe. Economic crisis could be avoided.

Now negotiations were underway for Sri Lanka to enter the Empire. It was the only choice before certain implosion turned Sri Lanka into a fourth world war zone. At the same time, Layartebian explorers were staking a claim in Clipperton Island, west of Mexico and negotiations were underway for the Revillagigedo Islands, north of Clipperton Island and Russian territory.

The response from the Sri Lankans came quickly, and the Cottish reaction was forthwith. In Palani airbase in India, Strategic Transport Group 25 had been placed on maximum readiness alert, and trailers filled with humanitarian aid had been driven out from the underground stockpiles the Civil Defense maintained in every territory of the Realm.

STG 25 was equipped with twenty-four C-15/A Kondor heavy strategic transport aircraft and two KC-21/B Robin refuelling aircraft, enabling the group to deploy a lot of equipment or supplies to anywhere in the world within twenty-four hours. The Kondor, a sixty-nine meter long, eleven meter tall behemoth with a wingspan of more than seventy-three meters was able to transport 130,700 kilograms of supplies or equipment during a normal run, or 180,000 kilograms in a pinch. Each of the twenty-four Kondors would be filled to the maximum peacetime allowance level, which was 130,700 kilograms, enabling the Cottish Air Force to transport an incredible 3,136,800 kilograms of supplies to Sri Lanka per cargo run! They’d also each carry a platoon of thirty-nine infantry from Airbase Defense Regiment 84, which was tasked with defending Palani airbase, in the upper aft passenger compartment which could house up to eighty-eight passengers comfortably. The soldiers were there to provide protection for the aircraft and the temporary landing zone, and to help distribute the supplies.

The twenty-four aircraft were quickly being loaded by the ground personnel and carefully supervised by the crew chiefs while the two KC-21 Robin tankers barrelled down the runway, laden with jet fuel. They’d top the tanks of the Kondors as they got off the ground, as carrying so much cargo had the penalty of giving the aircraft a reduced fuel load. True, it was only around a hundred kilometres to Sri Lanka, but the pilots still wanted to have sufficient fuel levels.

Half an hour later, the first three Kondors taxied slowly to the runway, their massive airframes towering on the tarmac, and got into takeoff position. The aircraft received permission for take-off quickly, allowing the pilots to increase the four CTFE-8F-2007 turbofans’ thrust levels to maximum, producing over 107,680 kilograms of thrust to propel the 334-ton heavy behemoth down the four thousand meters of runway. After 2,500 meters, the Kondor took to the skies, climbing in a smooth angle upwards at a rate of 420 meters per minute, moving towards an altitude of 3,000 meters where they’d meet up with the Robins to top the tanks before proceeding to Sri Lanka.

A little over an hour later, the first of the lumbering Kondors landed at the designated area they had been asked to deliver the supplies, using a little over 900 meters to land before it taxied over to a far-away area of the runway where several trucks that the Sri Lankans had sent to collect the supplies waited. Inside the Kondor, the thirty-nine heavily armed airmen were climbing down the steep ladder into the cargo hold, preparing themselves and their weapons for whatever was to come.

As the Kondor came to a halt, the aft cargo ramp was lowered to facilitate access to the aircraft. However, before the ramp had been completely lowered, eight airmen dressed in combat gear jumped off the aircraft and spread out to cover all sides of the aircraft, their DR-83M Tactical Rifles and DMG-83 Squad Machine Guns, designated L130A1 and L131A1 in Cottish service, respectively, ready for anything. They were quickly supplemented by another eight-man squad, giving the Cottish sixteen men protecting the aircraft with the rest available for support or for assistance in offloading the supplies. Meanwhile, the aircraft commander, a Captain, the platoon commander, a Lieutenant, and the crew chief, a Master Sergeant, walked over to the Sri Lankan representative to discuss the best way of distributing the supplies.

*****

Meanwhile, back in Palani, two of the Kondors were being loaded with something completely different. One Kondor was being packed to its ghills with shipping containers and personnel while the second one was being packed it its ghills with trucks and other vehicles, as well as personnel. The two Kondors had been tapped to transport the 1057. Army Field Hospital, which consisted of fifteen doctors, forty nurses and other medical staff, thirty conscripts and three hundred beds as well as state of the art medical equipment and medical competence. The 1057. Field Hospital was designed to be quickly deployable and capable of setting up shop very quickly (it was also capable of bugging out very quickly), and to treat patients under the most extreme conditions, making it ideal for this operation, which had been given the name Operation Swift Mercy by the High Command.

The 1057. Field Hospital would be on the ground in Sri Lanka in an hour, on location in three, and receiving patients in four, which was about when the first of the Cottish supplies, all of them labelled with the Cottish flag to show where they were from, would start to be distributed to those who needed them.

Meanwhile, Cottish humanitarian organizations were rallying to show their solidarity with the suffering of the Sri Lankan people, organizing humanitarian and economical aid as best they could. They weren't as swift as the Cottish government, but help was most definitely on the way!

The Cottish aide was more than helpful and necessary. It arrived quicker than the rest of the Layartebian supplies, which provided a necessary and needed relief barrier between the gap in time. Radiation spread was a reality and it contaminated a significant portion of the area. The Maldives would suffer fallout but not nearly as much as they would otherwise. Anything further away than the Maldives would detect increases but nothing significant enough to cause problems, thanks largely in part to the massive amount of water between the powerplant and the direction the radiation traveled. August 18 had come and gone and a week later, it was determined that enough supplies had been dropped into the reactor to stop the spread of radiation for a short amount of time. The area around the powerplant could be approached on foot but only by scientists properly shielded and only for a short duration of time. The goal was to add even more containment materials to the exposed reactor and to build a containment facility around it made of concrete, lead, and various other materials that would contain the radioactivity. It would have to be air tight and it would need a neutron poison added to it to prevent further criticality. Any shelter would have to survive at least one hundred years to properly contain the fallout inside and that was the highest priority. Plans for one were already made and had been made since the early 1980s when a government finding into the containment of a nuclear meltdown produced the idea of a shelter. Most reactor buildings were build to contain a meltdown but a steam explosion was hard to hold in if there wasn't proper ventilation of the pressure, which happened in this instance. The structure would have to be capable of withstanding even the most powerful forces of nature including earthquakes and hurricanes. In Sri Lanka, the typhoon threat was real and that meant they had to further reinforce any structure built around the reactor.

Construction would begin September 1 on it and would use industrial robots and radiologically protected vehicles, although none of those used building the shelter would ever leave the contaminated zone. After radiation levels decrease, the stricken core could be dismantled within the confines of the shelter and disposed of properly. It would be huge and costly, approximately §800,000,000 and it would take years to build, perhaps six at the most. Until it could be completed, a temporary shelter would be placed over the exposed reactor.

As construction began, Sri Lankan authorities announced that as of September 1, Sri Lanka would surrender its sovereignty. Until a plan to reunify the island, the independent Sri Lanka would be annexed by the Empire and the whole island of Sri Lanka would remain part of the Western Republic as a single cohesive element until 2010. At that time it would assume the status of an independent republic within the Empire and be called the Republic of Ceylon. That was just three days away.