NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Hello. Most of you may not know who I am, since I'm not all that active, and it's about to get a lot worse. Yes, sad to say, the time has come for me to leave indefinitely. RL study concerns and, I must admit, lack of interest.

Come to think of it, maybe I'm just imagining things but also it seems the stupid content of II has gone up recently. In any case my departure will help to alleviate this.

I will still be around from time to time, but not posting. Perhaps I will return during holidays at the end of the year though. My deepest apologies to all who I am currently RPing with, but at the rate things were going you might have assumed this was imminent anyway. :tongue:

Well, it's a farewell thread, and so as not to be a dick, my thanks to the following players;

- New Manth and Olmedreca, for being good enough to follow my RPs
- Southeastasia, for helping a noob during 2006 and beyond
- Lyras, for being a good ally and all-around nice guy
- on that note, all my allies
- Vault 10, for helping on many of my II pet projects
- Russkya, for being ridiculously patient
- NSD, for tolerating my bland and uninspired designs
- everyone else who I missed, which is a lot of you

My time here has been most enjoyable, so thanks to you people and all of II for that matter. Best of luck.

Presidential Palace
Sayenna
1658 hrs

The President of Hamilay gazed through the windows of his office across Freedom Square, watching drops of rain smack against the glass. The sun was rapidly setting, and together with the rain the square, filled with tourists, street vendors and people protesting about something or other during the daytime, was almost empty. He looked at his watch, muttering under his breath. If only that fool Novikov would hurry up and get this so-called urgent business he'd called to see the President about fifteen minutes ago over and done with, then he could pack up his desk and call it a day. Conveniently, the intercom on the desk buzzed and the President answered it.

"Mr President? The Director is here to see you."

"About damn time. Let him in, Anna."

The heavy doors of the President's office swung open and the diminutive head of the Federal Security Directorate strode in.

"Ah, Vasily. What's this serious business about, then?"

Novikov was silent.

"Well? Get on with it!" snapped the President. He raised an eyebrow as half a dozen Army officers in dress uniform appeared in the corridor behind the Director, as well as two soldiers with assault rifles in their hands. The President's stomach tightened.

"Mr President!" Novikov burst out jovially, clapping his hands causing the President to jump, as the doors closed behind the new arrivals. "I am sorry for keeping you waiting, but now we are all here, we can begin. Simply put, my colleagues and I have come to the regrettable conclusion that the direction of Hamilay has been ill-conceived as of late, and it falls upon us to restore order. You will make a formal statement relinquishing all power to myself and the Marshals here." The President listened with growing horror, but recognised the officers as all the old guard Field Marshals.

Damn it, how could we have missed this?

"It's not April Fools Day, is it? At the risk of sounding cliched, you have no hope of getting away with this."

"On the contrary, Mr President," said the first of the Marshals, Kellerman. "Parliament has been secured by our forces and the members taken into custody, as your Guards and members of Cabinet will be soon." He pointed at the windows behind the desk, where the President looked with a shock to see tanks and armoured vehicles rolling into the previously empty square. "Your friend the Chancellor has been good enough to cooperate. I sincerely hope you learn from him."

Novikov handed the President a piece of paper and a pen.

"We are wasting time. Sign this. Please, Mr President, for your own sake, or we will simply kill you. It will be much easier and have no effect on our plans; all this trouble is to help you only," smiled the Director.

The President took the pen and paper, briefly scanned the document for a few seconds. He looked thoughtful, then tore it into four pieces and scrunched it up into a ball, casually tossing it at Novikov's head. It bounced off and rolled to the floor.

"Try again," he said coldly.

Novikov sighed. "I am sorry to have to do this. Major!"

One of the soldiers stepped forward and raised his rifle.

"Any last words, Mr President?" asked Novikov.

"Go to hell," he spat. The Director shrugged.

"Not so bad... not inspiring, perhaps, but defiant to the last. It will not sound so good on a tombstone, though." He nodded to the major.

The President's office was soundproofed, and with the security cameras disabled, no one outside would hear three gunshots.

http://i41.photobucket.com/albums/e267/Flaw3dLegacy/HamilayBlueSmaller.gif

Official Statement of the Federal Republic of Hamilay

Effective immediately, we regret to inform the international community that the Federal Republic is cutting all ties with the outside world. All Hamilayan diplomatic missions and military forces are being withdrawn, and Hamilayan assets returned home. Foreigners currently residing in Hamilay are being returned to their countries of origin. Foreign assets in the Federal Republic are being acquired by the government; compensation will be paid. Finally, we are officially withdrawing from all international treaties and agreements.

Sincerely,

the Interim Government of the Federal Republic

[signed]
Interim President V. V. Novikov
Field Marshal A. R. Kellerman
Field Marshal R. C. Hall
Field Marshal D. von Ritter
Field Marshal P. A. Sokolov
Field Marshal E. N. Barnard

[OOC: I deeply regret that I did not see this sooner. It has been a pleasure. Good luck and fair winds with all future endeavors.]

"So that's it, then?"
"It seems so, Commander."

The two officers strolled over the crushed white stone pathway, their conversation and the noise of soles on gravel the only sound in the courtyard. Glass panels far overhead let natural light flood into the space. The pair passed a ZPU-4 antiaircraft gun, manned by two mannequins in the simply cut two piece camouflage uniform used by the Russkyan Army during the 1950s. The muzzles pointed at the glass, the crew's facial expressions frozen as if in the middle of centering in on a enemy aircraft. The other three mannequins of the weapon's crew held ammunition, one kneeling by spare barrels with a pair of binoculars held to his eyes. A PPS-43 was slung across one back, SVT-40 rifles across others.

"How is Hackett?"
"The Flying Officer is well, physically. She is not happy."
"Wouldn't think so," the Commander said, softly.

They paused on the opposite end of the courtyard from the ZPU-4. A single small helicopter painted in a pattern of green and browns rested on its tricycle landing gear. A red star outlined in forest green was painted on the fuselage. A pilot was frozen in place, climbing into his cockpit, a half group of ground crewmen attending to the helicopter. It was a Kolibri, known by the same name in Russkya as it had been in Nazi Germany, and it was a design copied by the Russkyans and used in the Army and Air Force for some time as a reconnaissance and liason aircraft. The Fl 282 seemed little changed, save for a plexiglas canopy that fully protected the pilot.

"Your Russkyan is coming along wonderfully. A quick study, Commander."
"Good teachers."
"That too." The officer smiled. His collar tabs were dark green, as were his shoulderboards. They sported twin crimson lines running the length of them, a silver star standing between. Major Rinat Kirilovich Krukov looked resplendent in dress uniform, though it was that of a Russkyan Army Infantry officer and not his actual unit.

"Callaghan seems to be adjusting well, Commander."
"He likes your women."
"And our alcohol. At least he had the sense to start liking our women before he started liking our alcohol. They might feel insulted otherwise."
"That would be dangerous."
"I see you've had experience, Commander."
"I was married."
"I've only been shot at. Much easier." Rinat smiled thinly, knowing that no message had been slipped home to Hamilay for the Commander, that he was effectively alone in this world. Russkyan hospitality made up for some of that, but hospitality couldn't replace a wife. Or a son for that matter, but the Russkyans still didn't know about that, and had no need to.

"I was lucky." The Commander stared unseeing at the Flettner-designed helicopter.
"There is no goodbye, only see you later."
"Perhaps sooner than later."
"Don't talk like that. Our friends in the RVVS can't be treating you that badly."

The Commander wore the uniform and insignia of a RVVS Colonel, three thick gold bars and three gold stars on his shoulderboards, with two blue stripes separating the bars from one another. "Besides," Krukov continued, "You have all this gold on you now. We should go dazzle some ladies my friend, even if they are the type attracted only to shiny objects."
Wells grinned, snapped out of his sad moment with the one-after-the-other thoughts of flying and women. "The best kind. Throw a shiny kopek out the door in the morning and that's that."

Gravel crunched under their shoes as they walked on, stepping out of the courtyard onto tiled floor, going through oak double doors and merging with the traffic of the All Services Museum near Berisak.

"It may be safe to go home in some time. President Novikov may decide to come out of his shell. You're welcome for as long as you want to be here, Commander. Any obligations to us you've more than fulfilled."
Wells nodded. "Thanks."
"Depending on how things change, perhaps you can show me around in a few years."

Ack, I did not see this either! Well it is probably too late for you to see this now, but enjoy life away from II. Always fun to RP with you, and I hope to see you back sometime.

Huh, typically I also missed it. Anyway good luck, was nice to RP with you.