NationStates Jolt Archive

It was the third day this week that they had been protesting. The Imperator rolled his eyes, and reclined lazily on his sofa, looking absentmindedly out the window at the men and women marching and chanting. He couldn't do anything, because they were allowed peaceful protest, and it wasn't like they were doing anything besides makeing a rucus. Still, it annoyed him. It was all about the same thing. He'd had to bring down political parties. Didn't these people understand what bureacracy did to the system? Still, now they protested day and night. He stared out at today's protesters. The communists. It was always the communists. They wanted this, they wanted that. Blah, blah, blah. Well, the Imperator mused, at the very least it hasn't broken down into violence yet.
Moments later, he was forced to consider the irony of this thought when, with a loud crack like a whip, a bullet blasted through the window. The Imperator hurled himself to one side, under his reinforced desk. Almost immediately upon impact, steel coverings slid over each window- a safety precaution. Standing and dusting himself off, the Imperator heard the sound of more gun shots, screams, and the blare of sirens. He brushed himself down. Something was going to have to be done...

IMPERIAL DECREE 99373

http://img142.imageshack.us/img142/4321/sealxz5.gif

BY ORDER OF HIS LORDSHIP, IMPERATOR HEPHAESTUS BLACKFORGE:

IT SHALL BE FOUND THAT ANY PERSON, PERSONS, OR PEOPLE WHO HAVE AT ANY POINT PRESCRIBED TO THE NOTIONS AND BELIEFS CONNECTED WITH THE COMMUNIST PARTY SHALL BE DECLARED AN ENEMY OF THE STATE. ANY SUCH PERSON OR PERSONS FOUND TO FOLLOW SUCH PERSUASIONS MAY FACE CRIMINAL CHARGES AND DEPORTATION. ANY PERSON LOYAL TO THE GRAND IMPERIAL FEDERATION WHO BRINGS ANY SUCH PERSON TO ANY POLICE OFFICICAL OR PRECINCT MAY BE REWARDED THE SUM OF 10,000 MARKS.

"On the charge of association with the communist party, how does the jury find?"
"Guilty, your honor."
"Very well. The defendant will be detained until times at which his sentence may be ascertained. Court dismissed."
The court members stood and filed slowly out of the tiny benches alotted to them in the court room. Judge Curtis Sinclaire stepped down from his seat overlooking the rest of the court room, and surveyed it. This was the 5th man this week. The defendants eyes were wide, and he trembled as his hands were cuffed and two burly bailiffs took him away. Shaking his head, Judge Sinclaire sat heavily on one the lower chairs. All of them, tried and summarily found guilty. And, they probably were. Still, he thought, they're only crime is picking the wrong thing to believe...
As the judge trudged out to the parking lot, he was stopped by a tall, wide set, muscular man. He was dressed in the blue and white of the police force, and held up a hand. "Are you Judge Sinclaire?" "Yes." "Are you Judge Curtis Sinclaire?" The judge nodded, perplexed. Without another word, the man tackled him to the ground, slapping handcuffs on him. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. ou have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you by the state." "I'm under arrest?!" sputtered the judge. "On what charges?" "Association with the communist party." said the officer matter-of-factly, and the judge felt a sinking sensation in his stomach.

(bump)

"Aim, gentleman, and...FIRE!"
With a loud bang, six seperate rifles fired and a corpse fell to the ground, lifeless. This man was Peter Armhurst, the same man who had made an attempt on the Imperator's life those few days ago. He was also now the new martyr of the communist cause. Perhaps a mistake.

Downtown Vallingard, the capital of Faxanavia, was always high energy. It was known as "the city that tries to sleep, but the neighbors are playing their devil music much too loud, and really, its just reaching a new high, and I'm going to go over there right this minute, Mable, and talk some sense into those whipper-snappers..." (It was also known as the city with the third longest nickname.) People were always laughing, or talking, or shouting, vendors were calling, cars were honking. It was its own little metropolis. Within this city, the most important gathering point was L'Enphant square, in the very center of the city. It was here that you could buy six different meats on a stick, often all at the same time. It was here you could sample some of Faxanavia's finest theater. And it was here that an angry mob of protesters stood, screaming, yelling, and waving picket signs. The signs were emblazoned with things like, "Communism for a better tomorrow" and "Peter Amhurst didn't die in vain". The square had been cordoned off by police forces, and was now the center of attention for every military and police officer in the city. Helicopters buzzed overhead, and a man with a vast bullhorn shouted over the din. "You are illiegally demonstrating, and have been recognized as enemies of the state, as per imperial decree 99373. Cease and desist, and return to your homes, and no charges will be pressed. I repeat, cease and desist, and no charges will be pressed." The crowd roared, booing and shouting. Someone hurled a tomato at the man with the bullhorn. "I warn you, I have been authorized to use deadly force by the Imperator!" At this the crowd jeered, yelling a whooping. The man with the bullhorn waited for one minute, then whispered a code into his microphone. Suddenly, there was panic. From rooftops, tear gas and flash grenades were hurled. Sharpshooters on the roofs began firing rubber bullets into the crowd. Finally, the firetrucks of the 5th fire brigade opened out with all the power available to them, blasting the protesters. The sounds of screams and panic rang through the sky, and the streets were red with blood.

"What's the death toll, Mr. Hassock?" The Imperator stared down his nose at the man who had been carrying the bullhorn. This was warden John Hassock, and he had arrived in the Imperator's office just minutes before. "Well, sir, we're having trouble doing a count, 'cause alot of 'em ran away. But, we got 17 dead, and I don't know 'ow many injured." The Imperator nodded solemnly. This might not go over well in the international community...

(OOC: Be very afraid - I included the seal...)

http://img100.imageshack.us/img100/1539/foreignministryjt5.png (http://img100.imageshack.us/my.php?image=foreignministryjt5.png)
The Alfegos Foreign Ministry
Al'fego Sou'rai Au'fego

TO: The Imperator's Office
The president wishes to arrange a meeting with the Imperator, regarding the situation with the communists. This will be conducted, again, aboard the president's Airyaucht which will arrive at 6:00pm your time.

This meeting is of the utmost importance, and may change the situation of your stance on communism entirely.

Yours,
Kiran Johansson

Kiran Johansson ATLH, ASLH, D1C
Foreign Minister of Alfegos

(OOC: Be very afraid - I included the seal...)

http://img100.imageshack.us/img100/1539/foreignministryjt5.png (http://img100.imageshack.us/my.php?image=foreignministryjt5.png)
The Alfegos Foreign Ministry
Al'fego Sou'rai Au'fego

TO: The Imperator's Office
The president wishes to arrange a meeting with the Imperator, regarding the situation with the communists. This will be conducted, again, aboard the president's Airyaucht which will arrive at 6:00pm your time.

This meeting is of the utmost importance, and may change the situation of your stance on communism entirely.

Yours,
Kiran Johansson

Kiran Johansson ATLH, ASLH, D1C
Foreign Minister of Alfegos

The Imperator finds this agreeable. A UH-60 Helicopter will be waiting off of the south coast of Faxanavia at precisely 6:00 this evening.

Respectfully yours,
Hephaestus Blackforge
Imperator

The president was sitting in the conference room aboard his airship: with him were the foreign minister, the head of the armed forces, the financial minister, the security minister and the consul herself. Security had noticably been increased: outside the airship floated an N-class Aerofrigate, armed very noticably with three autocannons and a large external rack of missiles.

They waited for the Imperator to arrive, so they could discuss the threat of communism. Taken very seriously in Alfegos.

The president was sitting in the conference room aboard his airship: with him were the foreign minister, the head of the armed forces, the financial minister, the security minister and the consul herself. Security had noticably been increased: outside the airship floated an N-class Aerofrigate, armed very noticably with three autocannons and a large external rack of missiles.

They waited for the Imperator to arrive, so they could discuss the threat of communism. Taken very seriously in Alfegos.

OOC: Do you want to start a new thread after this?
IC: The UH-60 whirled into life, its rotors whirling loudly as it soared closer towards the airship. The Imperator had taken precautions as well. He had 4 body guards with him, double the normal contingent. As well, he was carrying with himself a concealed knife, only for use in self-defense. The dark tone of the Alfegan message had him worried, as did the advent of this missile ship. The helicopter soared into hailing range. "This is Imperial flight niner zero niner, requesting permission to dock."

(OOC: We can keep it in here, for it is very relevant.)

"You have permission to dock."

The airyaucht pilot gave the instructions over the radio as the helicopter was drawn into the internal bay. The president heard the roar of the machinery muffled in the distance, and knew they had arrived.

(OOC: We can keep it in here, for it is very relevant.)

"You have permission to dock."

The airyaucht pilot gave the instructions over the radio as the helicopter was drawn into the internal bay. The president heard the roar of the machinery muffled in the distance, and knew they had arrived.

OOC: Fair enough. I'll take your word for it.
IC:

The rotors slowed, and the Imperator stepped from the cockpit, flanked by his 4 guards. He stared around. He had been in the presidential yacht before, back when he had first taken power. But he never tired of seeing it. He marvelled at how such a fine ship could be built, and made a mental note to order one if he could. He stood, expectantly, awaiting whomever was to greet him.

One of the onboard hands escorted the Imperator and his guards into the main gondola, and then to the conference room.

"Good evening Imperator. What we need to discuss is of the utmost urgence, and of the utmost importance. Namely, I refer to the little problem you have with your people. But before we get to that unpleasantness, would you like something to drink? Please take a seat."

One of the onboard hands escorted the Imperator and his guards into the main gondola, and then to the conference room.

"Good evening Imperator. What we need to discuss is of the utmost urgence, and of the utmost importance. Namely, I refer to the little problem you have with your people. But before we get to that unpleasantness, would you like something to drink? Please take a seat."

The Imperator nodded, and sat him self in one of the large, executive style seats. Accepting his drink, he said, "What is it, Mr. President, that you wish to discuss?"

Thomas Harrington was walking down the street of the capital of Faxanavia. He was reading the World Worker newspaper, a well know communist newspaper. He was visiting Faxanavia on vacation, and had heard they had a very nice historical district somewhere downtown. He didn't know where he was going, so when he saw a cop, he walked over and asked him about it, still holding the clearly visible and recognizable World Worker.

"Well, it appears you have been ignoring your people. And we all know what that leads to. I would have left your nation to perish in a revolution, caused by your not catering to your people or giving them an illusion of catering their needs. You brought this on yourself, and you are lucky this time.

We as a nation are tolerant, but not of communist rebels. They have ripped our country into pieces three times, and we do not sit idly by. Therefore, we do believe that a military action is needed to quell riots.
We came heavily armed for our protection against them: you will have problems with them, but I am sure that we can help solve them.

My ministers are here so that we can discuss a course of action. This is the information we have so far. Lights please."

In the centre of the table, a piece of wood folded back to reveal a glass lens. A holographic projector. It began to humm, and soon a loading message appeared. Once it was finished, a three-dimensional map of Faxnavia appeared. Red blotches appeared, showing points of communist uprising.

"As you can see, you have a problem. What are we going to do?"

The police officer stared at him disbelieving. In broad daylight, too. "Sir, you're under arrest for violation of Imperial Decree 99373. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be supplyed to you by the state." The man was handcuffed, and moved roughly to a car.

"What are you doing!" the Thomas shouted. "Arrested! What are the charges. I am a citizen of the Republic of the Beatus. I demand to be released immediately."

Thomas Harrington was walking down the street of the capital of Faxanavia. He was reading the World Worker newspaper, a well know communist newspaper. He was visiting Faxanavia on vacation, and had heard they had a very nice historical district somewhere downtown. He didn't know where he was going, so when he saw a cop, he walked over and asked him about it, still holding the clearly visible and recognizable World Worker.

The police officer stared at him disbelieving. In broad daylight, too. "Sir, you're under arrest for violation of Imperial Decree 99373. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be supplyed to you by the state." The man was handcuffed, and moved roughly to a car.

"Well, it appears you have been ignoring your people. And we all know what that leads to. I would have left your nation to perish in a revolution, caused by your not catering to your people or giving them an illusion of catering their needs. You brought this on yourself, and you are lucky this time.

We as a nation are tolerant, but not of communist rebels. They have ripped our country into pieces three times, and we do not sit idly by. Therefore, we do believe that a military action is needed to quell riots.
We came heavily armed for our protection against them: you will have problems with them, but I am sure that we can help solve them.

My ministers are here so that we can discuss a course of action. This is the information we have so far. Lights please."

In the centre of the table, a piece of wood folded back to reveal a glass lens. A holographic projector. It began to hum, and soon a loading message appeared. Once it was finished, a three-dimensional map of Faxnavia appeared. Red blotches appeared, showing points of communist uprising.

"As you can see, you have a problem. What are we going to do?"

The Imperator stared, non-plussed. This was news to him. He looked at the vast map of his nation. Action would need to be taken immediately. "We will of course, accept Alfegosian aid. I, myself, having been only mobilizing small forces- it has not been made clear to me until now how severely this disease has spread. Force seems the only answer." He stood, pacing back and forth. "What do you advise, mister president?"

"What are you doing!" the Thomas shouted. "Arrested! What are the charges. I am a citizen of the Republic of the Beatus. I demand to be released immediately."

"Sir, you have violated Imperial Decree 99373, which clearly states that any and all communist actions are violation of the law, and any such person taking part in these actions will be prosecuted. Your reading of this magazine is recognized as a communist action. You may be a foreign citizen, but you're in Faxanavia, sir, and you're subject to her laws. You will be detained at precinct 125. You may contact the Beatus embassy there, if you so choose."

"Sir, you have violated Imperial Decree 99373, which clearly states that any and all communist actions are violation of the law, and any such person taking part in these actions will be prosecuted. Your reading of this magazine is recognized as a communist action. You may be a foreign citizen, but you're in Faxanavia, sir, and you're subject to her laws. You will be detained at precinct 125. You may contact the Beatus embassy there, if you so choose."

"Oh, I'm going to contact them," said Thomas. "What's your name, officer?"

"We would reccomend a mass propeganda campaign to stop any more people joining the communist groups, and then send in police support to remove leaders. We of course may find it difficult to try and infiltarte networks as such, but can provide you personnel for mass programmes. One is that you reward citizens for giving information about the communist movement.

My advisor for the armed forces tells me that we can offer a large amount in the way of special support: that is, we will send over 8 of the Aerofrigates like the one you see beside us, and 2 Aero-dropships, with a contingent of 120 Flaming Guard personnel and 240 Aeromarines. THese will be used for repaid quelling of any civil disobedience, as well as propeganda activities. I do believe the airships are already approaching your national airspace, so we can start immediately. My minister for finance also has told me that we have a budget in this of up to $50 billion. I think that this should help, no?"

He reached under the table, and withdrew the information rod for the holoprojector.

"I trust you have the capacity to read holographic SSM? If not, then we can send you the information via DVD quickly. I think this map will be useful for you. It will play on 2D devices, it is just that this uses an advanced 3D reader software to do such things as that.
Do you have any questions?"

"Oh, I'm going to contact them," said Thomas. "What's your name, officer?"

"I'm officer Jim Watson, sir." Thomas was moved into a police car, still handcuffed, which trundled off down the streets of Vallingard. The 105th Precinct was a few minutes from where he had been picked up. He was summarily booked, fingerprinted, and detained in the precincts cell pending further trial. Several minutes after he had been locked in, Officer Watson arrived. "Your telephone call, sir, as requested." He placed a mobile phone in Thomas's hand, and stood by the door, attentively.

"We would reccomend a mass propeganda campaign to stop any more people joining the communist groups, and then send in police support to remove leaders. We of course may find it difficult to try and infiltarte networks as such, but can provide you personnel for mass programmes. One is that you reward citizens for giving information about the communist movement.

My advisor for the armed forces tells me that we can offer a large amount in the way of special support: that is, we will send over 8 of the Aerofrigates like the one you see beside us, and 2 Aero-dropships, with a contingent of 120 Flaming Guard personnel and 240 Aeromarines. THese will be used for repaid quelling of any civil disobedience, as well as propeganda activities. I do believe the airships are already approaching your national airspace, so we can start immediately. My minister for finance also has told me that we have a budget in this of up to $50 billion. I think that this should help, no?"

He reached under the table, and withdrew the information rod for the holoprojector.

"I trust you have the capacity to read holographic SSM? If not, then we can send you the information via DVD quickly. I think this map will be useful for you. It will play on 2D devices, it is just that this uses an advanced 3D reader software to do such things as that.
Do you have any questions?"

The Imperator thought for a moment. "It sounds a good plan. Propaganda will have to pick up rather quickly. As for handling political leaders, that will be simple enough. Leave that up to me, Mr. President. Finally, your military support. I greatly appreciate it, and accept it. I believe the best idea for now is to mobilize to any areas where in active resistance is taking place. Quell the big ones, and the small shall fall just as quickly."

"Good. If there isn't anything else you wish to discuss, I will bid you farewell and give permission for the airships to enter your airspace. I don't think they'll have much trouble with anything on the ground, and I have ordered the pilots to go to the hotspots and systematically eliminate them alonsgide your ground forces."

"Good. If there isn't anything else you wish to discuss, I will bid you farewell and give permission for the airships to enter your airspace. I don't think they'll have much trouble with anything on the ground, and I have ordered the pilots to go to the hotspots and systematically eliminate them alonsgide your ground forces."

The Imperator nodded, and stood. Shaking the President's hand, he left the room. Minutes later, the UH-60 roared to life, and soared into sky. Back on the mainland, things were already starting...

Leon Leowillson was clad entirely in black. His entire outfit- his boots, his shirt, his pants, even his gloves- were black. His night vision goggles were black. His backpack was black. The only think not black about him was the white chicken's head on his left shoulder. Leon was an operative of the Black Rooster, Faxanavia's Special Ops division. He was currently plunging from a helicopter, 100's of feet above him. His mission was to dispatch the leader of a local communist group. And this was a mission he shared with dozens of others, dispersed all across the country.

The people of Vallingard awoke to posters. Posters everywhere. They showed patriotic things- the Imperator, Charles L'Enphant, the chicken- things like that. Vast hammers and sickles with slashes and circles through them, and slogans like, "Communism: it's what's killing your cat!" Signs telling people to report any communist acts, and copies of Imperial decree 99373 were abundant.

With a loud bang, a door crashed in. Faxanavian troopers, clad in camo and carrying Ares III assualt rifle hurtled through. Shots were fired, and people screamed. This was just one of many raids on suspected communist hideouts taking place all over the country.

The AAS Niobium and AAS Nickel were sister ships. Unusually named due to the lack of many words in the Fegosian dictionary, when the officials had started to go into english terms.

They were floating over a darkened town, searching the streets for trouble. And they found it: gun wielding men battling officials. Quite a quick solution for that. The underside loudspeaker blared as the airship dropped to 300m altitude.
"This is an official warning: if you do not desist anticivil activites, you will be terminated. Do you understand?"
The autocannons whirled around in their mountings along the airship, and began to take aim. The missile rack imperceivably became more dangerous.

The rebels seemed not to desist in their fight with the police. The firing began. The AAS Nickel opened up first with the autocannons, spraying 30mm HE rounds across the area. There were screams to be heard as people were ripped apart. No threat to the police though: the system was too accurate for that.
The AAS Niobium detected a Stinger missile being aimed upon it, and retaliated by launching a Screamer missile at the position. On impact, it sprayed the area with white phosphourous, while the sound of the high-pitched siren of death upon it still cut into the bodies of those around.

Within minutes, rebels were dispersing, if they could have. For while the rebels had been occupied in taking cover from the airship, the Niobium had deployed a platoon of Aeromarines, who swiftly surrounded the communists and held them back with the bayonets on their 6.4mm AF-07 rifles.

This was being repeated across the country. But it wouldn't defeat the problem. Even as rebels were herded into landed dropships and taken to the prisons of the country, they still hadn't taken away the bad feeling for the dictator. He himself would have to sort it, perhaps with a little help.

The Imperator sat, pondering, in his study. Surely, there had to be something he could do. The communists were being rounded up by the bucketload. The raids were succesful. It looked like the assasinatons had gone off without a hitch. The problem was, it didn't stop the people from not getting it- democracy was pointless. It was a stupid, bureacratic system so devoid of any usefullness that it made him sick. But, they refused to see the truth. See what was more important... Suddenly, the Imperator leapt from his seat. That was it!
The following day, a large crowd gathered in L'Enphant square to watch a gathering. Faxanavian soldiers had lined up, and stood, still as a rock. Vast banners hung everywhere, with the phrase, "For People and the Motherland" A podium was set up, and it was here that Hephaestus Blackforge stood. He coughed, lightly into a microphone, and then looked out at the gathering crowd. And then, he spoke.
"Men, women, and children of Faxanavia, we stand at a threshold. We stand at a new dawn of glory for the Faxanavian name, and for the Faxanavian nation. I come to you as an envoy, to speak of our new goal." He turned, and behind him, a vast scroll unfurled. It held the largest of the banners. The words emblazoned across it in gold were "For People and the Motherland". "This, my friends, is a new beggining. We shall unite, under one flag, under one slogan. Under one meaning. 'For People and Motherland'. We shall live true to these words. Faxanavia shall stand true to these words, and we shall flourish!"
The crowd roared, and Hephaestus smiled. All was to plan.

OOC: Will be explained soon.

"I'm officer Jim Watson, sir." Thomas was moved into a police car, still handcuffed, which trundled off down the streets of Vallingard. The 105th Precinct was a few minutes from where he had been picked up. He was summarily booked, fingerprinted, and detained in the precincts cell pending further trial. Several minutes after he had been locked in, Officer Watson arrived. "Your telephone call, sir, as requested." He placed a mobile phone in Thomas's hand, and stood by the door, attentively.

Thomas took the phone and dialed his Consulate, a receptionist picked up the phone. "Hello, Beatusian Consulate," she said.
"Yes, this is Thomas Harrington, and I've been arrested..."

Official Message From the Republic of the Beatus

To Faxanavia,

It has come to our attention that you have detained of our citizens. We wish to know the charges, and why he was arrested. We would also like you to conduct an investigation into this officer Jim Watson, as our citizen claims that he was overly aggressive in he arrest of the citizen. The citizens name is Thomas Harrington. We hope this situation can be handled quickly, as I have a tee time at five.

Signed
Tony Romo,
Deputy Adviser on Foreign Affairs
The Republic of the Beatus

The airships flew over the capital, delivering the communist captives to the prisons. Massive banners, weighing tonnes, were carried underneath bearing the slogan:

"For the Father and Your Motherland"

Thomas took the phone and dialed his Consulate, a receptionist picked up the phone. "Hello, Beatusian Consulate," she said.
"Yes, this is Thomas Harrington, and I've been arrested..."

Official Message From the Republic of the Beatus

To Faxanavia,

It has come to our attention that you have detained of our citizens. We wish to know the charges, and why he was arrested. We would also like you to conduct an investigation into this officer Jim Watson, as our citizen claims that he was overly aggressive in he arrest of the citizen. The citizens name is Thomas Harrington. We hope this situation can be handled quickly, as I have a tee time at five.

Signed
Tony Romo,
Deputy Adviser on Foreign Affairs
The Republic of the Beatus

To: Tony Romo
From: Dallion Grey

Dear sir,
Upon further investigation, it has come to our attention that Mr. Thomas Harrington was detained for taking part in communist activities, which is illiegal under Imperial Decree 99373. Furthermore, all officers of the law, when faced with an individual who is taking part in such actions, has been given the right to detain such persons with all force necesarry.

Respectfully yours,
Dallion Grey
Minister of Foreign Affairs

(OOC: No objections to have a handful of CTSS citizens abroad and of a single sleeper agent (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleeper_agent), I hope, otherwise I'll delete or edit this post)

Vallingard, Residential Area, 8:30 PM

It was a cold night.Far right to a turned on television announcing the latest Faxnavian news, The fireplace was burning brightly, fueled by all the "subversive" books Ian Tolosi had as he sat on the coach of his living room, observing the fllames consuming a handful of all type of communist and anarchist books and media, fittingly wrapped by several anti-communist propagandas and government symbols stitched together. After a few minutes all that remained were ashes, there was no single visible evidence of his ideological views.

Recapping all the past events, he perceived how the slippery slope was shifting the nation he was living for a time in into a Orwellian Police State: first the Communist, then all those who raise a single issue to its government and finally Gulags and secret polices, he pondered.

He once thought on leaving that country to its own, a thought quickly dismissed as he remembered why he was there in the first place. He was a sleeper agent among other normal Third Spanish States citizens, who only came there to make a living. No military background, brought a 13 years old daughter with him, normal everyday life and honest worker, no single hint of his true reason for staying there existed. His goal was to simply live there and determine his own goals.

The fireplace flames were ending as he thought on what he should do... he then went to the cellar to grab some logs to fuel it for a few more hours before sleeping... he knew there was only one mean for him to use, soon he would start to show off as a fierce anti-communist who left Third Spanish States despising its Economy, nobody was aware of his fake-cover books at all, and now that they were burnt he was safe for the moment. His intention was to give the police any subversives he spotted at his neighborhood, as those had little chances to succeed in the first place. He soon went to the second floor of his home and before going to his bedroom, he opened the door to another bedroom where he saw his daughter, Diane, smoking drugs and became shocked.

"Diane! What are you doing?", he said?
"This country sucked before, and now it sucks even more. I want to go back to Third Spanish States...", she said as her rimmed red eyes looked at him.
"But why are you smoking this crap? This thing isn't good for your health!", he frowned.
"Healthier staying on a country where I can't speak what I think! Get out of here before you kill us both by luring the fascists to here you idiot! You are only using me as a part of you damn disguise! You don't care about me, jerk!", she replied with a scowl
"I... I... I am not using you!", he replied with a doubtful tone.
"YOU think I am dumb? That I didn't listen to you spoking to yourself your ideas of screwing of the lives of all commies in the neighborhood to become famous and respected by The Man as you continue your spy delusions of grandeur?", she said, still somewhat altered.
"I don't want to do that anymore!", he lied, unconvincingly.
"Know what? By Third Spanish States standards I am an adult and I am getting the hell out of this dump before the GESTAPO comes to screw you!", she said as she got up from her bed and ran away, getting down from the stairs and out of the house. He didn't try to stop here, only made a facepalm as he worried about his daughter, a young drugged teenager running around at night. He tried then to sleep, aware he lost her forever due to his egotism and selfishness.

Diane was anything but discrete, already a few blocks away from her father house, she started tearing government propaganda posters and shouting "FIGHT AGAINST THE OPPRESSORS BEFORE THEY SEND YOU TO DEATH CAMPS! UP THE REVOLUTION! SMASH THE STATE BEFORE IT SMASHES YOUR LIFE! " nonstop, while she tried to get a sense of direction, which was difficult considering the state of her mind.

The Imperators plan soon became apparent. Long lists were posted everywhere public of things which were considered "unpatriotic": communism, demonstrating, rejecting the government, protesting, political gathering, etc. All of these things were banned and these bans were heavily enforced. Meanwhile, reward systems were put in place for people who reported such happenings. People who aided society, and those who helped to remove those who were unpatriotic were considered heroes. Vast propaganda posters, baring the slogan, "For People and the Motherland" were plastered everywhere. Propaganda was everywhere. Police funding was heightened, to crack down on unpatriotic acts. All to plan.

The president sat in his office back in Alfegos, his Airyaucht tied to a mast in his garden. It appeared that everything had gone to plan: the intelligence had reduced the red patches on the map to zero. The propeganda appeared to have worked as well, and the rioters had mostly been rounded up. Now all that remained was to keep an eye on the nation. So that the dictator didn't take things too far. If he did, that was when Alfegos would step in.

The aerodropships left Faxnavia, but the Aerofrigates remained, prowling the nation for protests and aiding police work. And staying to make sure that if anything went too far, they could lubricate negotiations. For now, they provided the occasional fireworks show with onboard fireworks, reloaded occasionally by an ammunition airship that lurked around the country with the aerofrigates.

(OOC: No objections to have a handful of CTSS citizens abroad and of a single sleeper agent (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleeper_agent), I hope, otherwise I'll delete or edit this post)

Vallingard, Residential Area, 8:30 PM

It was a cold night.Far right to a turned on television announcing the latest Faxnavian news, The fireplace was burning brightly, fueled by all the "subversive" books Ian Tolosi had as he sat on the coach of his living room, observing the fllames consuming a handful of all type of communist and anarchist books and media, fittingly wrapped by several anti-communist propagandas and government symbols stitched together. After a few minutes all that remained were ashes, there was no single visible evidence of his ideological views.

Recapping all the past events, he perceived how the slippery slope was shifting the nation he was living for a time in into a Orwellian Police State: first the Communist, then all those who raise a single issue to its government and finally Gulags and secret polices, he pondered.

He once thought on leaving that country to its own, a thought quickly dismissed as he remembered why he was there in the first place. He was a sleeper agent among other normal Third Spanish States citizens, who only came there to make a living. No military background, brought a 13 years old daughter with him, normal everyday life and honest worker, no single hint of his true reason for staying there existed. His goal was to simply live there and determine his own goals.

The fireplace flames were ending as he thought on what he should do... he then went to the cellar to grab some logs to fuel it for a few more hours before sleeping... he knew there was only one mean for him to use, soon he would start to show off as a fierce anti-communist who left Third Spanish States despising its Economy, nobody was aware of his fake-cover books at all, and now that they were burnt he was safe for the moment. His intention was to give the police any subversives he spotted at his neighborhood, as those had little chances to succeed in the first place. He soon went to the second floor of his home and before going to his bedroom, he opened the door to another bedroom where he saw his daughter, Diane, smoking drugs and became shocked.

"Diane! What are you doing?", he said?
"This country sucked before, and now it sucks even more. I want to go back to Third Spanish States...", she said as her rimmed red eyes looked at him.
"But why are you smoking this crap? This thing isn't good for your health!", he frowned.
"Healthier staying on a country where I can't speak what I think! Get out of here before you kill us both by luring the fascists to here you idiot! You are only using me as a part of you damn disguise! You don't care about me, jerk!", she replied with a scowl
"I... I... I am not using you!", he replied with a doubtful tone.
"YOU think I am dumb? That I didn't listen to you spoking to yourself your ideas of screwing of the lives of all commies in the neighborhood to become famous and respected by The Man as you continue your spy delusions of grandeur?", she said, still somewhat altered.
"I don't want to do that anymore!", he lied, unconvincingly.
"Know what? By Third Spanish States standards I am an adult and I am getting the hell out of this dump before the GESTAPO comes to screw you!", she said as she got up from her bed and ran away, getting down from the stairs and out of the house. He didn't try to stop here, only made a facepalm as he worried about his daughter, a young drugged teenager running around at night. He tried then to sleep, aware he lost her forever due to his egotism and selfishness.

Diane was anything but discrete, already a few blocks away from her father house, she started tearing government propaganda posters and shouting "FIGHT AGAINST THE OPPRESSORS BEFORE THEY SEND YOU TO DEATH CAMPS! UP THE REVOLUTION! SMASH THE STATE BEFORE IT SMASHES YOUR LIFE! " nonstop, while she tried to get a sense of direction, which was difficult considering the state of her mind.

OOC: That's fine. You've also given me an excellent new prefix for Faxanavia...

To: Tony Romo
From: Dallion Grey

Dear sir,
Upon further investigation, it has come to our attention that Mr. Thomas Harrington was detained for taking part in communist activities, which is illiegal under Imperial Decree 99373. Furthermore, all officers of the law, when faced with an individual who is taking part in such actions, has been given the right to detain such persons with all force necesarry.

Respectfully yours,
Dallion Grey
Minister of Foreign Affairs

To Dallion Grey,

Okay, how soon can you have Mr. Harrington released?

Signed,
Tony Romo,
Deputy Adviser on Foreign Affairs,
The Republic of the Beatus

To Dallion Grey,

Okay, how soon can you have Mr. Harrington released?

Signed,
Tony Romo,
Deputy Adviser on Foreign Affairs,
The Republic of the Beatus

Dear sir,
Mr. Harrington will serve trial before a court of his peers for commiting crimes within breach of Faxanavian law. Upon the completion of his trial, Mr. Harrington shall be deported to the Beatus. He shall, of course, not be allowed to return to Faxanavia.

Respectfully yours,
Dallion Grey
Minister of Foreign Affairs

Dear sir,
Mr. Harrington will serve trial before a court of his peers for commiting crimes within breach of Faxanavian law. Upon the completion of his trial, Mr. Harrington shall be deported to the Beatus. He shall, of course, not be allowed to return to Faxanavia.

Respectfully yours,
Dallion Grey
Minister of Foreign Affairs

To Dallion Grey,

We will be sending an attorney to oversee the case for the defense of Mr. Harrington. His name is Mr. John Elway. He is a noted attorney in our nation. We hope this situation is resolved quickly and fairly.

Signed,
Tony Romo,
Deputy Adviser on Foreign Affairs,
The Republic of the Beatus

(OOC: No objections to have a handful of CTSS citizens abroad and of a single sleeper agent (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleeper_agent), I hope, otherwise I'll delete or edit this post)

Vallingard, Residential Area, 8:30 PM

It was a cold night.Far right to a turned on television announcing the latest Faxnavian news, The fireplace was burning brightly, fueled by all the "subversive" books Ian Tolosi had as he sat on the coach of his living room, observing the fllames consuming a handful of all type of communist and anarchist books and media, fittingly wrapped by several anti-communist propagandas and government symbols stitched together. After a few minutes all that remained were ashes, there was no single visible evidence of his ideological views.

Recapping all the past events, he perceived how the slippery slope was shifting the nation he was living for a time in into a Orwellian Police State: first the Communist, then all those who raise a single issue to its government and finally Gulags and secret polices, he pondered.

He once thought on leaving that country to its own, a thought quickly dismissed as he remembered why he was there in the first place. He was a sleeper agent among other normal Third Spanish States citizens, who only came there to make a living. No military background, brought a 13 years old daughter with him, normal everyday life and honest worker, no single hint of his true reason for staying there existed. His goal was to simply live there and determine his own goals.

The fireplace flames were ending as he thought on what he should do... he then went to the cellar to grab some logs to fuel it for a few more hours before sleeping... he knew there was only one mean for him to use, soon he would start to show off as a fierce anti-communist who left Third Spanish States despising its Economy, nobody was aware of his fake-cover books at all, and now that they were burnt he was safe for the moment. His intention was to give the police any subversives he spotted at his neighborhood, as those had little chances to succeed in the first place. He soon went to the second floor of his home and before going to his bedroom, he opened the door to another bedroom where he saw his daughter, Diane, smoking drugs and became shocked.

"Diane! What are you doing?", he said?
"This country sucked before, and now it sucks even more. I want to go back to Third Spanish States...", she said as her rimmed red eyes looked at him.
"But why are you smoking this crap? This thing isn't good for your health!", he frowned.
"Healthier staying on a country where I can't speak what I think! Get out of here before you kill us both by luring the fascists to here you idiot! You are only using me as a part of you damn disguise! You don't care about me, jerk!", she replied with a scowl
"I... I... I am not using you!", he replied with a doubtful tone.
"YOU think I am dumb? That I didn't listen to you spoking to yourself your ideas of screwing of the lives of all commies in the neighborhood to become famous and respected by The Man as you continue your spy delusions of grandeur?", she said, still somewhat altered.
"I don't want to do that anymore!", he lied, unconvincingly.
"Know what? By Third Spanish States standards I am an adult and I am getting the hell out of this dump before the GESTAPO comes to screw you!", she said as she got up from her bed and ran away, getting down from the stairs and out of the house. He didn't try to stop here, only made a facepalm as he worried about his daughter, a young drugged teenager running around at night. He tried then to sleep, aware he lost her forever due to his egotism and selfishness.

Diane was anything but discrete, already a few blocks away from her father house, she started tearing government propaganda posters and shouting "FIGHT AGAINST THE OPPRESSORS BEFORE THEY SEND YOU TO DEATH CAMPS! UP THE REVOLUTION! SMASH THE STATE BEFORE IT SMASHES YOUR LIFE! " nonstop, while she tried to get a sense of direction, which was difficult considering the state of her mind.

"Sir, I've got a perp on west 4th and Mulhatton. She's taking part in unpatriotic acts, sir." Officer Leowood Johnson's cruiser drove slowly past where Diane was stil screaming in her drunken stupor. However, the voice over the radio said, "Leave her. She'll be gone soon enough."
The cruiser pulled around the corner, and was gone into the night. The drugged out Diane had barely registered it. Nor did she register the two men rounding the other end of Mulhatton avenue. She turned, startled, as one of them shouted, "Oy! You! That thar's unpatriotic..." Diane eye's registered, suddenly, what was happening. She backed away, slowly, uncertain. One of the men moved to her right, slowly. The other man continued to stare at her. "You know what wes do to unpatriotic types, don't yous?" Diane stared, fear in her eyes. Suddenly, the second man struck her from behind with a wrench. Diane fell, unconscious.

6 hours later, as the morning hustle and bustle was just beggining, Bill Higgins happened to lose a ball. Playing fetch in the park, by the resevoir with his dog Skip, Bill accidentally threw the ball too far. Running down to the resevoir to retrieve the ball, he happened upon the a gruesome sight. Diane's body, mangled, ripped, and beaten lay, lifeless, in the running water. Spraypainted across her forehead was the word, "Unpatriotic". Bill stared for a long moment. Then, he turned around and walked back up the slope. After all, she'd gotten what she'd deserved.

To Dallion Grey,

We will be sending an attorney to oversee the case for the defense of Mr. Harrington. His name is Mr. John Elway. He is a noted attorney in our nation. We hope this situation is resolved quickly and fairly.

Signed,
Tony Romo,
Deputy Adviser on Foreign Affairs,
The Republic of the Beatus

Mr. Elway will be accepted to defend Mr. Harrington in this hearing.

Respectfully yours,
Dallion Grey
Secretary of Foreign Affairs

OOC: If its all right with you, i would like to get in on the action in a small way. if not, i'll delete this post.

Vallingrad, residential area, 9:00 P.M

Eric Vorpyer, a man of about fifty, walked down the deserted street on his way to his home, silently observing the propoganda that had been plastered every where. Seeing it all, he couldn't help but sigh. Faxanavia had seemed like an excellent place to finish out his life, after being exiled from Ice Forge, full of oppurtunity and history and all kinds of things to interist himself with. Then this had happened. First censorship had become the government policy, then riots, then all of this.

Eric, of course, didn't really care one way or the other what form of governemt controlled the country, as long as they didn't cause choas. This unrest caused choas and he hated choas. Which is why, when he heard the yelling of a woman screaming about a revoloution, he snapped.

Walking down the street at a fast piece, he tried to find the screamer, meaning to slap a bit of sense into her. He found her in an ally, but she seemed to be... dead. He growled. A dead girl, no older than his granddaughter. This would not do. Searching through her body, trying his best not to disrespect the dead, he found an ID that said where she lived. With a sigh, he tried to arrange the body in a presentable fashion before setting off towards the address on the ID. He hated being noble.

Dang It! Too Late... which means i have to retool the above, which i have!

Mr. Elway stepped of the plane at the airport in Faxanavia's capital. He took one look around and sighed. Then he went over to the customs desk and said, "Hello, I am looking for the courthouse."

Mr. Elway stepped of the plane at the airport in Faxanavia's capital. He took one look around and sighed. Then he went over to the customs desk and said, "Hello, I am looking for the courthouse."

The attendant nodded. "You take 5th and Forbes from here, then make a right on Delex, and then left on Queberton. That should get you there."

"The honorable judge Jim Trimbal preciding, all rise." The judge seated himself on his high seat overlooking the court room. "This court will now hear the case of Thomas Harrington versus the people. The defense will speak first."

(OOC: Photoshop this one with Faxanavian Flag (http://hpd-online.de/files/Adam_Sutler.jpg))

Ian couldn't sleep, he was too worried about his daughter and the shouts he listened didn't help either. He stood up from his bed, dressed up with his black shirt and pants and went downstairs, then he was surprised as the doorbell rang, immediately he moved upstairs again, and opened a false floor where there was a small key. He took the key, hid again the false floor and then pressed against a segment of the wall of his bedroom, activating a simple pressure mechanism which opened a secret opening in the wall to his left with a metallic door and a keyhole. He then inserted the key and opened it, revealing a stash inside a Faraday Cage which stood closed and hidden for years. It had a Beretta 92 Compact Type M (http://world.guns.ru/handguns/beretta92.jpg) pistol, a silencer, a MP5SD3 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MP5SD#Variants) submachinegun, an AWS Covert (http://www.ketmer.com/ai/defense/awcovert/index.htm) sniper rifle, a handful of magazines for the guns, bugs and a handheld computer, all acquired through the Black Market. The doorbell ringed again as he attached the silencer to his pistol and loaded it with a magazine, he then wore a lined jacket, and hid his gun inside it as he attended to the door.

"Yes, who is it?", he said to Eric as he knocked his door.

(OOC: Photoshop this one with Faxanavian Flag (http://hpd-online.de/files/Adam_Sutler.jpg))

Ian couldn't sleep, he was too worried about his daughter and the shouts he listened didn't help either. He stood up from his bed, dressed up with his black shirt and pants and went downstairs, then he was surprised as the doorbell rang, immediately he moved upstairs again, and opened a false floor where there was a small key. He took the key, hid again the false floor and then pressed against a segment of the wall of his bedroom, activating a simple pressure mechanism which opened a secret opening in the wall to his left with a metallic door and a keyhole. He then inserted the key and opened it, revealing a stash inside a Faraday Cage which stood closed and hidden for years. It had a Beretta 92 Compact Type M (http://world.guns.ru/handguns/beretta92.jpg) pistol, a silencer, a MP5SD3 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MP5SD#Variants) submachinegun, an AWS Covert (http://www.ketmer.com/ai/defense/awcovert/index.htm) sniper rifle, a handful of magazines for the guns, bugs and a handheld computer, all acquired through the Black Market. The doorbell ringed again as he attached the silencer to his pistol and loaded it with a magazine, he then wore a lined jacket, and hid his gun inside it as he attended to the door.

"Yes, who is it?", he said to Eric as he knocked his door.

OOC: okay... 'tis here (http://img236.imageshack.us/img236/8412/adamsutlersu5.jpg). Any particular reason why?

(OOC: Photoshop this one with Faxanavian Flag (http://hpd-online.de/files/Adam_Sutler.jpg))

Ian couldn't sleep, he was too worried about his daughter and the shouts he listened didn't help either. He stood up from his bed, dressed up with his black shirt and pants and went downstairs, then he was surprised as the doorbell rang, immediately he moved upstairs again, and opened a false floor where there was a small key. He took the key, hid again the false floor and then pressed against a segment of the wall of his bedroom, activating a simple pressure mechanism which opened a secret opening in the wall to his left with a metallic door and a keyhole. He then inserted the key and opened it, revealing a stash inside a Faraday Cage which stood closed and hidden for years. It had a Beretta 92 Compact Type M (http://world.guns.ru/handguns/beretta92.jpg) pistol, a silencer, a MP5SD3 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MP5SD#Variants) submachinegun, an AWS Covert (http://www.ketmer.com/ai/defense/awcovert/index.htm) sniper rifle, a handful of magazines for the guns, bugs and a handheld computer, all acquired through the Black Market. The doorbell ringed again as he attached the silencer to his pistol and loaded it with a magazine, he then wore a lined jacket, and hid his gun inside it as he attended to the door.

"Yes, who is it?", he said to Eric as he knocked his door.

As the door opened Eric was treated to the site of a frazzled looking man who looked to be about thirty, clearly of Third Spanish descent, with one hand in his coat in a very obvious gesture. One Eric recognized.

"Whoa there, no need for that." He said, indicating the hidden hand. "Im not here for the thrice damned government or anything like that. Are you Ian Tolosi?"

The attendant nodded. "You take 5th and Forbes from here, then make a right on Delex, and then left on Queberton. That should get you there."

"The honorable judge Jim Trimbal preciding, all rise." The judge seated himself on his high seat overlooking the court room. "This court will now hear the case of Thomas Harrington versus the people. The defense will speak first."

"Your honor, I move for a mistrial, as after consulting the law under which he was charged, I find that the prosecution has no proof that he is a member of the communist party, or has ever been of that persuasion, and if they do, I ask them to present it now," Mr. Elway said.

"Your honor, I move for a mistrial, as after consulting the law under which he was charged, I find that the prosecution has no proof that he is a member of the communist party, or has ever been of that persuasion, and if they do, I ask them to present it now," Mr. Elway said.

Charles Davreux was a young, sprightly man in his early 30's. A shock of grey parted his otherwise black and well cut hair, and he was dressed meticulously in three piece suit and tie. He was in good standing in the lawyer community- a new man on the scene, but destined for great things. He would represent the prosecution in this case. "Your honor, the defense calls officer Jim Watson to the stand to testify." Thomas Harrington's arresting officer shuffled nervously up to the stand. There, Davreux spoke to him. "You are officer Jim Watson of the 105th precinct, correct?" Watson nodded. "And, on January the 8th, you arrested this man, correct?" Davreux indicated Harrington. Watson nodded, again. "Mr. Watson, could you please tell the court why you arrested Mr. Harrington?"
Mr. Watson coughed nervously. "Well, see, he came up to me, right, and he was asking me for directions. But then I noticed he was reading a magazine. It was World Worker. That's a communist magazine, that is. That means he's having connections with the communist party, dudn't it? An' that's illiegal, idn't it? So I arrested, under Imperial Decree 99373."
Davreux nodded. "No further questions."
The judge nodded. "The defense may cross examine the witness, if they so choose."

As the door opened Eric was treated to the site of a frazzled looking man who looked to be about thirty, clearly of Third Spanish descent, with one hand in his coat in a very obvious gesture. One Eric recognized.

"Whoa there, no need for that." He said, indicating the hidden hand. "Im not here for the thrice damned government or anything like that. Are you Ian Tolosi?"

Ian seemed even more alert as of now, he feared the man was trying to earn his trust and then get him to tell everything he knew or to lower his guard. Unconvinced he asked:

"Why are you looking for Ian Tolosi?"

"The bill failed Mr. Chairman, only 26 Governors were in favor, 31 against, and 5 abstained." The aide was in a happy mood as he presented the data to his boss. And well he should be, his father was business owner of a relatively successful chain of restaurants. The last thing he wanted was those damned communists pushing any sort of legislation through. His boss, however, was less then thrilled.

"And what about the Commons, Ferdinand?", said one of the most powerful men in the Foundation of Terran Tribes.

The aide's smile vanished with amazing speed," Well Mr. Chariman. Um, the Workers Federation and Humanity Organization have both been working harder then was originally though, even reaching out to many more Full citizens then we thought. They... they managed to get enough signatures to introduce their bill to the Leagued Commons. It'll be up for vote by next month."

Antonov Westwind was silent for a moment, taking his time to gather his thoughts as he leaned back in an expensive leather recliner. The chair was an oddity in the remarkably spartan office, a sharp contrast to the way the last Chairman of the Foundation of Terran Tribes had had it decorated.

"Well Ferdinand, that truly sucks." The aide still hadn't gotten used to the new Chairman's speaking oddities. "However, I suppose we should be glad that the Governors bill failed, it was the more extreme of the two. To be honest the Commons bill isn't all that bad, I just wish it wouldn't shove most of my prior two year's work into gutter." Westwind had pushed hard to improve the economy of the Foundation, building up many industries and securing many trading partners in other countries. Which the Commons bill would damage, to an extent, with its proposed economic embargoes and travel restrictions it would place on Faxanavia. In truth, the impact would be rather small due to the very small amount of trade the Foundation had with Faxanavia, but it still went against the Chairman's grain. On the other hand, how much more business could he garner for the Foundation if the Communist countries became more friendly...

"Ferdinand, I want you to draft my recommendation and approval of the Commons bill."

"Sir?! Are you serious? What about all the economic fallou-"

"Trust me on this Ferdinand."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Foundation National News
FREDDRIKS- The Chairman has announced in a press release earlier today that he intends to endorse the much debated "Faxanavia Restrictions" bill that has just successfully been petitioned recognition before the Leagued Commons last Friday. The bill has proven more popular then initially believed, due in large part of the rigorous media campaigns of both the Workers Federation and the Humanity Organization, and managed to gather nearly twice as many signatures as required to introduce the bill. The bill itself contains provisions that would place trade embargoes on all trade between the Foundation and Faxanavia as well as severely limiting the rights of Faxanavia citizens entering the Foundation.

Director of the Workers Federation, Comrade Jane Wong, responded to Chairmans endorsement favorable, "While the Chairman and I have had numerous disagreements in the past, I am happy that the Federation can rely on him for support in our endeavor to stop the corporate thugs of Faxanavia from perpetrating more crimes against the working class."

Betty Uroro, head of the Humanity Organization, was also pleased by Chairmans announcement, " I'm glad that the Foundation finally has a leader who is willing and able to put away the dusty shroud of isolationism that has wrapped the Foundation for too long. We've had the capability to prevent the suffering of the oppressed in other nations for years now, and it's about time we used them."

The Chairman stated his confidence that the bill would pass during its scheduled time before the Commons, which is believed to be sometime next month. As a show of resolve, he stated that he would exercise his constitutional powers and place heavy tariffs on all Faxanavian trade as well as placing travel restrictions on Faxanavians traveling in the Foundation until the bill had been voted on.

All this comes on the coat tails of the failure of a similar bill in the Counsel of Governors. While similar in many respects, the "Governors Faxanavia Response" bill differed primarily in that it called for military intervention against the government of Faxanavia if it did not repel its oppressive IMPERIAL DECREE 99373 in a timely manner. The Commons bill is expected to gather much more support then the Governors bill due to this difference.

So far there has been little response from the Faxanavian Government, though only time can tell what the result of the "Faxanavia Restrictions" bill will be.

Charles Davreux was a young, sprightly man in his early 30's. A shock of grey parted his otherwise black and well cut hair, and he was dressed meticulously in three piece suit and tie. He was in good standing in the lawyer community- a new man on the scene, but destined for great things. He would represent the prosecution in this case. "Your honor, the defense calls officer Jim Watson to the stand to testify." Thomas Harrington's arresting officer shuffled nervously up to the stand. There, Davreux spoke to him. "You are officer Jim Watson of the 105th precinct, correct?" Watson nodded. "And, on January the 8th, you arrested this man, correct?" Davreux indicated Harrington. Watson nodded, again. "Mr. Watson, could you please tell the court why you arrested Mr. Harrington?"
Mr. Watson coughed nervously. "Well, see, he came up to me, right, and he was asking me for directions. But then I noticed he was reading a magazine. It was World Worker. That's a communist magazine, that is. That means he's having connections with the communist party, dudn't it? An' that's illiegal, idn't it? So I arrested, under Imperial Decree 99373."
Davreux nodded. "No further questions."
The judge nodded. "The defense may cross examine the witness, if they so choose."

Mr. Elway rose. "Now Officer Watson, you say you arrested him because he was reading a newspaper?" said Mr. Elway.

Mr. Elway rose. "Now Officer Watson, you say you arrested him because he was reading a newspaper?" said Mr. Elway.

Officer Watson tugged nervously at his collar. "Yes sir. He was reading a communist newspaper, and that's illiegal. 'Cause its 'prescribing to the notions and beliefs connected with the communist party'."

Officer Watson tugged nervously at his collar. "Yes sir. He was reading a communist newspaper, and that's illiegal. 'Cause its 'prescribing to the notions and beliefs connected with the communist party'."

"Tell me Officer Watson, have you ever read a newspaper?" asked John.

"Tell me Officer Watson, have you ever read a newspaper?" asked John.

"Yes sir. But I don't read no communist newspapers, sir."

[OOC: If possible I would like to join in under the assumption that I already have an embassy...
Name of Country: Communist Dominion of Stoklomolvi [CDS]
Government style: Communistic dictatorship
Ambassador and Family's names: Adrian Dmitiriyovich Panzservloch
Personnel Required: 4
Are you in any wars?: Cripistan liberation, forgot some others
Maybe as a communist civilian; everyone in Stoklomolvi is communist. If no embassy, well, could I participate anyway?]

"Yes sir. But I don't read no communist newspapers, sir."

"So, do you always agree with what the newspaper says?" asked John.

[OOC: If possible I would like to join in under the assumption that I already have an embassy...
Name of Country: Communist Dominion of Stoklomolvi [CDS]
Government style: Communistic dictatorship
Ambassador and Family's names: Adrian Dmitiriyovich Panzservloch
Personnel Required: 4
Are you in any wars?: Cripistan liberation, forgot some others
Maybe as a communist civilian; everyone in Stoklomolvi is communist. If no embassy, well, could I participate anyway?]

OOC: Sure. That's fine by me. I'll assume that you already have an embassy.

"Um, well, no. I don't."

"So you admit than, that it is possible to read something with out subscribing to its beliefs," said John, with a grin on his face.

"So, do you always agree with what the newspaper says?" asked John.

"Um, well, no. I don't."

"So you admit than, that it is possible to read something with out subscribing to its beliefs," said John, with a grin on his face.

"Objection!" shouted Davreux. "overuled." Officer Watson nodded his head. "Any further questions, Mr. Elway?" asked the judge.

"Objection!" shouted Davreux. "overuled." Officer Watson nodded his head. "Any further questions, Mr. Elway?" asked the judge.

"No, your honor," said John, as he sat down.

"The bill failed Mr. Chairman, only 26 Governors were in favor, 31 against, and 5 abstained." The aide was in a happy mood as he presented the data to his boss. And well he should be, his father was business owner of a relatively successful chain of restaurants. The last thing he wanted was those damned communists pushing any sort of legislation through. His boss, however, was less then thrilled.

"And what about the Commons, Ferdinand?", said one of the most powerful men in the Foundation of Terran Tribes.

The aide's smile vanished with amazing speed," Well Mr. Chariman. Um, the Workers Federation and Humanity Organization have both been working harder then was originally though, even reaching out to many more Full citizens then we thought. They... they managed to get enough signatures to introduce their bill to the Leagued Commons. It'll be up for vote by next month."

Antonov Westwind was silent for a moment, taking his time to gather his thoughts as he leaned back in an expensive leather recliner. The chair was an oddity in the remarkably spartan office, a sharp contrast to the way the last Chairman of the Foundation of Terran Tribes had had it decorated.

"Well Ferdinand, that truly sucks." The aide still hadn't gotten used to the new Chairman's speaking oddities. "However, I suppose we should be glad that the Governors bill failed, it was the more extreme of the two. To be honest the Commons bill isn't all that bad, I just wish it wouldn't shove most of my prior two year's work into gutter." Westwind had pushed hard to improve the economy of the Foundation, building up many industries and securing many trading partners in other countries. Which the Commons bill would damage, to an extent, with its proposed economic embargoes and travel restrictions it would place on Faxanavia. In truth, the impact would be rather small due to the very small amount of trade the Foundation had with Faxanavia, but it still went against the Chairman's grain. On the other hand, how much more business could he garner for the Foundation if the Communist countries became more friendly...

"Ferdinand, I want you to draft my recommendation and approval of the Commons bill."

"Sir?! Are you serious? What about all the economic fallou-"

"Trust me on this Ferdinand."

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

OOC: Just noticed this...
IC: The responses were very much varied to the tarrifs imposed upon Faxanavia by the Terran Tribes. Faxanavian citizen in Terran Tribes were in an outrage. Victor Dimitrovichokonitrovichinkovolsky, age 87, announced to the world at large his opinion that, "those Terran people will pay for this!" Mr. Dimitrovichokonitrovichinkovolsky was, in a recent census, recognized as the only Faxanavian citizen in all of Terran Tribes.

Ian seemed even more alert as of now, he feared the man was trying to earn his trust and then get him to tell everything he knew or to lower his guard. Unconvinced he asked:

"Why are you looking for Ian Tolosi?"

OOC: Sorry it took me so long to get back to this... got sidetracked.

IC: Eric sighed, realizing that the man wasn't going to ease off of the gun, and subconciously prepared himself for the jumpy man to try something. He wasn't about to be shot by someone like this after thrity years serving in the Imperial Navy.

"Sir, if we could please step inside, i think you may want to be away from the public for this..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm afraid it involves your daughter... something has happened to her."

OOC: Sorry it took me so long to get back to this... got sidetracked.

IC: Eric sighed, realizing that the man wasn't going to ease off of the gun, and subconciously prepared himself for the jumpy man to try something. He wasn't about to be shot by someone like this after thrity years serving in the Imperial Navy.

"Sir, if we could please step inside, i think you may want to be away from the public for this..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm afraid it involves your daughter... something has happened to her."

He did not lower his guard, but Ian said "Come in", the man followed him inside his house as he closed the door and sat on a couch in the living room. Then suddenly his face became to show signs of worry:

"Do you know what happened to my daughter?"

"No, your honor," said John, as he sat down.

Davreux stood up. "Your honor, the prosecution wishes to call the defendant to the stand." The judge nodded, and beckoned to Thomas.

(bump)

Davreux stood up. "Your honor, the prosecution wishes to call the defendant to the stand." The judge nodded, and beckoned to Thomas.

Thomas rose, and took the stand.

He did not lower his guard, but Ian said "Come in", the man followed him inside his house as he closed the door and sat on a couch in the living room. Then suddenly his face became to show signs of worry:

"Do you know what happened to my daughter?"

Eric sighed as he sat down. He'd said things like this hundreds of times to hundreds of people, some of them close friends and family, but it never got any easier.

"I'm afraid that she was found by the people of this nation to be "unpatriotic"... I found her body in an ally on my way home. I heard her creaming and was going to try and shut her up for her own good, but i was too late."

As he said this, he couldn't help but feel a little guilt. He had decided to leave work a fifteen minutes late. If he had left on time, he might have been able to stop this from happenening. But there was nothing that could be done for her now. The dead don't ever come back. He had learned that the hard way.

Vladimir Illyich Lenin, a well-known communist speaker in Stoklomolvi, had lived in Faxanavia in peace for nearly a year. One day, Faxanavia passed a law criminalising communism, and Lenin was outraged. He was determined to make the Faxanavians [OOC: Sp?] pay for their human rights violating act, even though it didn't really violate any human rights. Under the cover of darkness, he started posting fliers everywhere, with only a few words written on each.

"Communism shall triumph! Communists, rally against Faxanavia!"

He quietly slipped into the Stoklomolvi embassy during the night after bribing the guard with §250.

Eric sighed as he sat down. He'd said things like this hundreds of times to hundreds of people, some of them close friends and family, but it never got any easier.

"I'm afraid that she was found by the people of this nation to be "unpatriotic"... I found her body in an ally on my way home. I heard her creaming and was going to try and shut her up for her own good, but i was too late."

As he said this, he couldn't help but feel a little guilt. He had decided to leave work a fifteen minutes late. If he had left on time, he might have been able to stop this from happenening. But there was nothing that could be done for her now. The dead don't ever come back. He had learned that the hard way.

His facial expression was somewhat strange, it seemed as if he was trying to hold something he wanted to say but would rather not as a precaution, his scowl seemed like a mix of coldness, anger and sorrow, Ian simply looked at the man and asked, in a tone of voice which seemed to repress by force certain emotions:

"Did you brought her remains or is what is left of her still there? I want to see her body before someone gets rid of it."

Thomas rose, and took the stand.

Davreux paced back and forth. He turned to Thomas. "Mr. Harrington, why were you reading that newspaper?"

Vladimir Illyich Lenin, a well-known communist speaker in Stoklomolvi, had lived in Faxanavia in peace for nearly a year. One day, Faxanavia passed a law criminalising communism, and Lenin was outraged. He was determined to make the Faxanavians [OOC: Sp?] pay for their human rights violating act, even though it didn't really violate any human rights. Under the cover of darkness, he started posting fliers everywhere, with only a few words written on each.

"Communism shall triumph! Communists, rally against Faxanavia!"

He quietly slipped into the Stoklomolvi embassy during the night after bribing the guard with §250.

The posters were everywhere. Angry citizens ripped them from the walls, and soon a mob followed the trail of the posters to the Stoklomovski embassy. There, they stood outside, shouting for the release of the traitor, whomever he was.

His facial expression was somewhat strange, it seemed as if he was trying to hold something he wanted to say but would rather not as a precaution, his scowl seemed like a mix of coldness, anger and sorrow, Ian simply looked at the man and asked, in a tone of voice which seemed to repress by force certain emotions:

"Did you brought her remains or is what is left of her still there? I want to see her body before someone gets rid of it."

Eric shook his head sadly, recognizing the expression on the mans face. "I'm afraid that i was not able to bring the remains. In addition to the fact that if i carried a body in the middle of the street i'd likely end up dead, it goes against Forgemen custom for anyone other than the family or near-family of the deceased to move the body. I may be an exile, but im still a Forgeman. I can however, take you to see the body. Just be prepared, it was not a calm death."

Davreux paced back and forth. He turned to Thomas. "Mr. Harrington, why were you reading that newspaper?"

"I enjoy the comics in it," said Thomas. "They are funny."

Eric shook his head sadly, recognizing the expression on the mans face. "I'm afraid that i was not able to bring the remains. In addition to the fact that if i carried a body in the middle of the street i'd likely end up dead, it goes against Forgemen custom for anyone other than the family or near-family of the deceased to move the body. I may be an exile, but im still a Forgeman. I can however, take you to see the body. Just be prepared, it was not a calm death."

"Wait a bit"... he said to the man as he went upstairs, he seemed to keep a calm facade over all his despair.

A few seconds later he returned with a large and sturdy plastic bag and said "Let's go there now, before it is too late."

"I enjoy the comics in it," said Thomas. "They are funny."

"You are aware that this newspaper prescribes to illiegal concepts?"

"You are aware that this newspaper prescribes to illiegal concepts?"

"You mean communist, right? I think the comics are funny, because they try to spread the communist message, which makes the medium a perfect fit, because, thats really what communism is, a big joke," said Thomas.

"Wait a bit"... he said to the man as he went upstairs, he seemed to keep a calm facade over all his despair.

A few seconds later he returned with a large and sturdy plastic bag and said "Let's go there now, before it is too late."

Eric was silent as he nodded to the distraught man and led him outside. They walked in silence down the streets, streets that were filled with people who happily supported the killing of anybody if they resisted the current regime. The signs were everywhere, and they made Eric sick. For the thousandth time, he grew nostalgic for Ice Forge. For its icy climes, for its forests of evergreens, for its mountains and seas. He shook his head. He could never go back. Not after what he had done.

By the time Eric and Ian reached the Ally the sun had risen and the morning rush was well underway. He was disturbed to see a young boy run out of the ally where the body was with no signs of distress. Checking the ally, he saw the body still there. 'Damn country,' he thought. 'Even the kids think this is fine.'

Stopping at the mouth of the ally, he turned to Ian. "She's in there... i'll wait out here and give you some time."

"You mean communist, right? I think the comics are funny, because they try to spread the communist message, which makes the medium a perfect fit, because, thats really what communism is, a big joke," said Thomas.

"So, you admit that you've read these comics, fully aware of the message they were sending, and fully understanding what they told you to do?"

"So, you admit that you've read these comics, fully aware of the message they were sending, and fully understanding what they told you to do?"

"Yes, thats what makes them funny," said Thomas. "They're messages are so ridiculously funny. They act as if communism will be the savior of the world. It's grade A propaganda. I find it funny that people actually believe this stuff. I read it solely for that purpose, also I find some of the stories in the Communism Works section, as they two are funny to me, though I do not think that was the intent."

Eric was silent as he nodded to the distraught man and led him outside. They walked in silence down the streets, streets that were filled with people who happily supported the killing of anybody if they resisted the current regime. The signs were everywhere, and they made Eric sick. For the thousandth time, he grew nostalgic for Ice Forge. For its icy climes, for its forests of evergreens, for its mountains and seas. He shook his head. He could never go back. Not after what he had done.

By the time Eric and Ian reached the Ally the sun had risen and the morning rush was well underway. He was disturbed to see a young boy run out of the ally where the body was with no signs of distress. Checking the ally, he saw the body still there. 'Damn country,' he thought. 'Even the kids think this is fine.'

Stopping at the mouth of the ally, he turned to Ian. "She's in there... i'll wait out here and give you some time."

He did not stop at all due to the horrible sight. he was trained to be psychologically prepared for the worse and he did what had to be done. Quickly he wore two leather gloves and started to put the body of her own daughter inside the bag, closing it thereafter, and then dragged it towards the man, asking:

"Can you help me? I need to send her back to her country to have an honorable burial."

"Yes, thats what makes them funny," said Thomas. "They're messages are so ridiculously funny. They act as if communism will be the savior of the world. It's grade A propaganda. I find it funny that people actually believe this stuff. I read it solely for that purpose, also I find some of the stories in the Communism Works section, as they two are funny to me, though I do not think that was the intent."

"Ah hah!" shouted Davreux, grasping at straws. "You admit to reading more then the funnies! You read things not meant to be funny! They place communist ideals in your head!" He was visibly shaking, and a mad glint was in his eye.

"Ah hah!" shouted Davreux, grasping at straws. "You admit to reading more then the funnies! You read things not meant to be funny! They place communist ideals in your head!" He was visibly shaking, and a mad glint was in his eye.

"I admit laughing at the communist's puny attempt to pull the rats that are fleeing they're sinking ship back with the promise of cheese on the bottom of the sea," said Thomas.

He did not stop at all due to the horrible sight. he was trained to be psychologically prepared for the worse and he did what had to be done. Quickly he wore two leather gloves and started to put the body of her own daughter inside the bag, closing it thereafter, and then dragged it towards the man, asking:

"Can you help me? I need to send her back to her country to have an honorable burial."

Eric couldn't help but narrow his eyes a bit at the sight of Ian as he walked back out calmly. What had happened to the man's daughter was some pretty heavy stuff, yet he was taking like... like a professional. Nontheless, he nodded and moved to pick up the bag with him, allowing the man to lead.

He wasn't going to let this slide though. "I'll help you as far as you need to go, but afterwords i think you and i need to have a little talk."

The guards just stood there, unmoving. A moment later five more guards appeared holding bulletproof glass riot shields, and sat in front of the door. The previous guards walked inside. Vladimir appeared on a turret-like spire extending out of the embassy.

"Hello! Yes, you! Anti-communist fools! I laugh at you! I spit at you!"

Vladimir spit at the ground in front of the embassy, missed and the spit landed on a man's head. The man grumbled. "What the-" Vladimir pulled out a poster with the capitalist system parodied on it.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a7/Anti-capitalism_color.jpg

He put a large stack of the posters onto a primitive looking catapult and launched the stack into the crowd, where the strings went loose and the posters floated down onto the people.

"They rule you! They fool you! They shoot at you! They eat for you! Down with the capitalists!"

Inside the embassy, the man was rather angry at Vladimir for spitting on him. The other diplomats muttered grimly to each other.

"His bickering is going to be the end of Fax-Stok relations! We have to stop him."

"Leave him be. He's already stressed enough."

"We'll watch him."

"Fair enough."

The diplomats set the embassy at high alert. Guards ran about the embassy.

Eric couldn't help but narrow his eyes a bit at the sight of Ian as he walked back out calmly. What had happened to the man's daughter was some pretty heavy stuff, yet he was taking like... like a professional. Nontheless, he nodded and moved to pick up the bag with him, allowing the man to lead.

He wasn't going to let this slide though. "I'll help you as far as you need to go, but afterwords i think you and i need to have a little talk."

Ian said nothing in reply, besides "I need to return to my house with her". He then, accompanied by Eric moved through the streets, reaching again the safety of his home, as they entered in the living room, he said "Just a little more buddy", as he opened the door to his garage, and then mentioned "Drop her for a while". As the bag was dropped, Ian took a key and opened the trunk of his car. "Inside the trunk", Ian said in a desperate tone, as the emotions were overflowing him. He then pulled the body and putted it inside the car trunk with Eric's help, and finally said.

"You have five minutes to ask what you want, let's go back to the living room. As they both went back there. Ian then sat and replied "Take your sit Eric, and ask away."

Ian said nothing in reply, besides "I need to return to my house with her". He then, accompanied by Eric moved through the streets, reaching again the safety of his home, as they entered in the living room, he said "Just a little more buddy", as he opened the door to his garage, and then mentioned "Drop her for a while". As the bag was dropped, Ian took a key and opened the trunk of his car. "Inside the trunk", Ian said in a desperate tone, as the emotions were overflowing him. He then pulled the body and putted it inside the car trunk with Eric's help, and finally said.

"You have five minutes to ask what you want, let's go back to the living room. As they both went back there. Ian then sat and replied "Take your sit Eric, and ask away."

Eric didn't really want to do this, but he had to. Taking his seat, he looked Ian right in the eyes and began speaking.

"You probably wouldn't know but im not a native any more than you are. I served in the Ice Forge Imperial Navy for thirty years before i was exiled, and in that time i met a lot of professionals. Therefore i know one when see one. When i look at you i see one. Its all there, the lack of visible emotional shock, the weaponry, the way you stand, and the way your instantly suspisious of everyone when your daughter goes out again.

My question is this; how long have you been an agent here, who are you an agent for, and is there any way i could help make this thrice damned, dark forsaken country pay for murdering in cold blood a girl no older than my grandaughter?"

Eric didn't really want to do this, but he had to. Taking his seat, he looked Ian right in the eyes and began speaking.

"You probably wouldn't know but im not a native any more than you are. I served in the Ice Forge Imperial Navy for thirty years before i was exiled, and in that time i met a lot of professionals. Therefore i know one when see one. When i look at you i see one. Its all there, the lack of visible emotional shock, the weaponry, the way you stand, and the way your instantly suspisious of everyone when your daughter goes out again.

My question is this; how long have you been an agent here, who are you an agent for, and is there any way i could help make this thrice damned, dark forsaken country pay for murdering in cold blood a girl no older than my grandaughter?"

Ian knew lying on everything would bring him nowhere, but he still lied with conviction on certain things:

"I've been living here for five years now, I work for a private 'security' corporation which is specialized into fixing information for interested parties. The contact I have with them never mentioned the name of it, he just said 'That's how cells (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Covert_cell) work, now go to Faxanavia, have your life normally and await until further instructions, you'll be well paid for this'. Then he vanished, the contact I had with them is now an inactive encrypted e@mail and since then I received no single hint of 'further instructions'. Now I am afraid everything you could do is stay here and not return to your home for now as you we only weren't followed by pure blind luck. I fear your presence here would raise too many questions Eric, I am afraid my cover was lost by the time you walked in. Now there is only one thing you can do. A big favor to me: I need to get the hell out of this country, and I would rather you came with me, I am sure you must be tired of this place.

I fear for your life as well, if you don't want to see the future as a boot stamping on a human face forever, I really suggest you to come with me. For now, could you wait a little? I have to pack up.", he said as he went upstairs. There he used his computer to quickly an encrypted message to his "contractors", an Intel divison of the Blackguards special forces he belonged to, it read: "I cannot stay here any longer, send a shadowlifter immediately for pick up at the following coordinates, there is enough space for landing and take off there *coordinates*. And I'm bringing a suspicious individual with me, he identified himself as Eric and as an exiled member of Ice Forge Navy, I'll keep an eye on him, don't worry.", he shut down the computer as he finished the message, folding it into a briefcase, and also started to pack his guns and equipment inside other briefcases.

After four minutes he returned with four briefcases and said: "Let's get into my car, and put this", as he handed him an infrared binocular, "I am not going to turn its lights during this travel.

The guards just stood there, unmoving. A moment later five more guards appeared holding bulletproof glass riot shields, and sat in front of the door. The previous guards walked inside. Vladimir appeared on a turret-like spire extending out of the embassy.

"Hello! Yes, you! Anti-communist fools! I laugh at you! I spit at you!"

Vladimir spit at the ground in front of the embassy, missed and the spit landed on a man's head. The man grumbled. "What the-" Vladimir pulled out a poster with the capitalist system parodied on it.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a7/Anti-capitalism_color.jpg

He put a large stack of the posters onto a primitive looking catapult and launched the stack into the crowd, where the strings went loose and the posters floated down onto the people.

"They rule you! They fool you! They shoot at you! They eat for you! Down with the capitalists!"

Inside the embassy, the man was rather angry at Vladimir for spitting on him. The other diplomats muttered grimly to each other.

"His bickering is going to be the end of Fax-Stok relations! We have to stop him."

"Leave him be. He's already stressed enough."

"We'll watch him."

"Fair enough."

The diplomats set the embassy at high alert. Guards ran about the embassy.

The crowd booed and hissed, yelling insults up at Vladimir. Suddenly, everything went quiet as 4 police cruisers rolled up. 8 Police men moved out, and 7 stationed themselves around the perimeter of the embassy. the eigth pulled out a bullhorn. "Stoklomovskians- please surrender the offender into our custody for summary trial. He has commited crimes punishable under Faxanavian law, and we request his immediate release."

[OOC: waiting for reply to above post ^]

(Bump)

[OOC: waiting for reply to above post ^]

OOC: Sorry, been away from the compy for a couple of days.

"I admit laughing at the communist's puny attempt to pull the rats that are fleeing they're sinking ship back with the promise of cheese on the bottom of the sea," said Thomas.

Several minutes later, the jury had come to a descision. "On the charges of communism and unpatriotic acts, the people find the defendant, Thomas Harrington, not guilty." An angry murmur went up through the onlookers. The communist had gotten off! Mr. Harrington was led out by several burly guards. They were, in fact, for his own protection. As Harrington exited the courtroom, and was move ou of the building, shouts went up from the onlookers. Someone threw a rotted tomato at him, and more boos and shouts began to eminate from the crowd.

Ian knew lying on everything would bring him nowhere, but he still lied with conviction on certain things:

"I've been living here for five years now, I work for a private 'security' corporation which is specialized into fixing information for interested parties. The contact I have with them never mentioned the name of it, he just said 'That's how cells (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Covert_cell) work, now go to Faxanavia, have your life normally and await until further instructions, you'll be well paid for this'. Then he vanished, the contact I had with them is now an inactive encrypted e@mail and since then I received no single hint of 'further instructions'. Now I am afraid everything you could do is stay here and not return to your home for now as you we only weren't followed by pure blind luck. I fear your presence here would raise too many questions Eric, I am afraid my cover was lost by the time you walked in. Now there is only one thing you can do. A big favor to me: I need to get the hell out of this country, and I would rather you came with me, I am sure you must be tired of this place.

I fear for your life as well, if you don't want to see the future as a boot stamping on a human face forever, I really suggest you to come with me. For now, could you wait a little? I have to pack up.", he said as he went upstairs. There he used his computer to quickly an encrypted message to his "contractors", an Intel divison of the Blackguards special forces he belonged to, it read: "I cannot stay here any longer, send a shadowlifter immediately for pick up at the following coordinates, there is enough space for landing and take off there *coordinates*. And I'm bringing a suspicious individual with me, he identified himself as Eric and as an exiled member of Ice Forge Navy, I'll keep an eye on him, don't worry.", he shut down the computer as he finished the message, folding it into a briefcase, and also started to pack his guns and equipment inside other briefcases.

After four minutes he returned with four briefcases and said: "Let's get into my car, and put this", as he handed him an infrared binocular, "I am not going to turn its lights during this travel.

Eric listened attentively to Ian's explanation of his work, keeping his expression neutral. He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the comment about blowing his cover. Not only was Eric too smart to be followed, but if he hadn't come Ian would have been found out anyway. Eric knew that in a country like this if a person is termed "unpatriotic" then everyone they know is investigated. Sleeper agents rely on the facade of normalcy to survive. Being investiagated would have killed Ian.

On top of that, Eric realized that most corporate secruity firms didn't use sleeper agents, at least not like this. And the chance of any private firm hiring a communist, as Eric figured Ian was, was laughable. Still, he remained silent.

When Ian left the room, most likely to pack but probably to contact any superiors he might have as well, Eric began to think. He was getting old, he knew that. He could feel age beginning to creep up on him, and this kind of stuff wasn't what he had been trained for. But for him, for all Forgemen really, the killing of children was an abomination. He realized that if Ice Forge learned of the stuff going on there they would put sanctions in place. Knowing that morally and strategically he had no choice, he pulled out his cell phone. Flipping it open, he hit a sequence of numbers that activated its primary function; to allow him to contact his superiors over a secure connection.

It was true; Eric had been banished. Not only that; he agreed with the exile. His mistake had cost the lives of two entire fleets. But that didn;t mean he didn't love Ice Forge. It also didn't mean he couldn't try to atone. He became a member of Ice Forge Intelligence, playing the part of the betrayed hero with a grudge against his country to get acess to information and pass it too Ice Forge. His info had led to the defeat of the enemies of Ice Forge on several occasions.

The message he sent to his operator was simple "Faxnavian government commiting unforgivable offenses; slaughter of children. Contact made with foreign agent, acompanying agent to unknown location. Will activate tracker if op goes south. Advise immediate sanctions against Faxnavians. Frost out."

When Ian returned, Eric had already put his phone away. When Ian offered him the binocluers Eric laughed. "No need for those friend. Ice Forge has a nice genetics program; i can see fine in the dark. Now, shall we go?"

(OOC: This will probably extend to a new separated Character RP thread later)

Ian smiled as simply headed to his car, unlocked its doors and got inside.

"Genetics? Several nations across the world are researching that for years and nothing. Let's head out, they will be waiting for us, as fortunately I am a too valuable asset to be simply discarded and people of similar skill are very hard to be found", he said as he putted his key on the ignition to turn on the car, which engine was conveniently relatively silent.

Several minutes later, the jury had come to a descision. "On the charges of communism and unpatriotic acts, the people find the defendant, Thomas Harrington, not guilty." An angry murmur went up through the onlookers. The communist had gotten off! Mr. Harrington was led out by several burly guards. They were, in fact, for his own protection. As Harrington exited the courtroom, and was move ou of the building, shouts went up from the onlookers. Someone threw a rotted tomato at him, and more boos and shouts began to eminate from the crowd.

A car from the Beatusian Consulate was waiting outside the courthouse for Mr. Harrington, and Mr. Elway. They both safely reached the bulletproof, black 1974 Toyota Land Cruiser, and it began to pull away.

A car from the Beatusian Consulate was waiting outside the courthouse for Mr. Harrington, and Mr. Elway. They both safely reached the bulletproof, black 1974 Toyota Land Cruiser, and it began to pull away.

A convoy of Faxanavian vehicles moved along side the car, insuring that the growing crowds didn't get out of hand. As an extra precaution, Faxanavian police forces guarded the Beatusian embassy. The Imperator didn't like Harrington getting off, but it wasn't worth war with the Beatus.

(OOC: This will probably extend to a new separated Character RP thread later)

Ian smiled as simply headed to his car, unlocked its doors and got inside.

"Genetics? Several nations across the world are researching that for years and nothing. Let's head out, they will be waiting for us, as fortunately I am a too valuable asset to be simply discarded and people of similar skill are very hard to be found", he said as he putted his key on the ignition to turn on the car, which engine was conveniently relatively silent.


(OOC: yeah, a seperate thread would probably be a good idea.)

IC: As the car rolled off with Ian at the wheel Eric answered him. "Yes, Ice Forge has always been concerned with biogenetics and biochemical research. Their something of a national pass time, and as such are taught at a young age. Now, if you don't mind telling me, just which country are you an agent for?"

(OOC: yeah, a seperate thread would probably be a good idea.)

IC: As the car rolled off with Ian at the wheel Eric answered him. "Yes, Ice Forge has always been concerned with biogenetics and biochemical research. Their something of a national pass time, and as such are taught at a young age. Now, if you don't mind telling me, just which country are you an agent for?"

Ian didn't like the curiousity of the man accompanying him. He wondered what were his true intentions and whether he was truly exiled at all as he drove the almost silent car through the darkest streets of Vallingard, heading to the outskirts of the city, from where he could then reach the most devoid locations and take advantage of his 4x4 to travel off-road. But for now he could only answer one thing:

"As I said, I don't know who they are. Maybe they are some criminal organization, maybe my contact lied and was a middleman to another nation, but the fact is that I was here for the money. Now I suppose something happened with the contact and they lost their capability to reach me, whoever they are. Now, Eric, if it doesn't bother, could you explain me what were the exact circumstances that led you to be exiled?"

Ian didn't like the curiousity of the man accompanying him. He wondered what were his true intentions and whether he was truly exiled at all as he drove the almost silent car through the darkest streets of Vallingard, heading to the outskirts of the city, from where he could then reach the most devoid locations and take advantage of his 4x4 to travel off-road. But for now he could only answer one thing:

"As I said, I don't know who they are. Maybe they are some criminal organization, maybe my contact lied and was a middleman to another nation, but the fact is that I was here for the money. Now I suppose something happened with the contact and they lost their capability to reach me, whoever they are. Now, Eric, if it doesn't bother, could you explain me what were the exact circumstances that led you to be exiled?"

Eric sighed at the seemingly doubled suspicisionf of Ian, but guessed he deserved it for asking who he worked for again. Not matter, he would learn eventually. The exile though... it pained him to talk of his folly, of his failure, but he decided he would, if only to remind himself of it.

Turning, Eric regarded Ian with haunted eyes. "As i told you, i served in the Imperial Navy. I didn't mention that i was an admiral, of the Second Imperial Fleet to be exact. I served for many years and brought much honer to the Vorpyer name. However, that all ended when we went to war with Tellosia.

The war was long and brutal, and both sides fought and died bitterly. There came a point however, when Ice Forge could have taken their captiol. During the naval attack to do so, My fleet was part of a battlegroup consisting of four fleets, over ten thousand people on a hundred ships. We met the enemy in a narrow straight, where they used the smaller size of their ships to nullify our numbers. The battle was long, but eventually i was ordered to lead my fleet up their center, to break their line. I realized that it would lead to the destruction of my fleet though. I realized that my men would die, so i ignored the order. That was my mistake.

Because of my refusal to shatter the Tellosian forces they were able to rally with reinforcments and beat us back. We lost two enitre fleets in that battle, my own among them, all due to my stupidity. So therefore, i was exiled, scorned by my native land, my native people... my family."

Eric had a pained look on his face, reliving the battle and his exile again was hard. Giving a sharp glare to Ian, he asked in a dull voice, "Satisfied?"

OOC: Telloisa is, as far as i know, just a nation i made up for the purpose of this war. If someone already has it i apologize.

Ian said "I'm really sorry for making you remember it, we should be on the outskirts of the city soon Eric, if you spot anything strange tell me, I'm not going to fail". The car passed through several streets and headed to beyond the city, Ian did not say much at all, he simply kept driving, concentrated on his surroundings.

(bump)

(Bump)