NationStates Jolt Archive

Mad sea dogs and Walmington, all in the midday sun. An Indian sun at that.

HMWS Dame Mavis cut through the Palk Strait -Tamil Strait, to those of a red bent- at a steady fourteen knots, cruising on her diesels as most of the crew crowded the corvette's scant deck space. Group exercise.

"Come on you meatpies, keep up the pace! You won't last an innings at this rate!"

True enough, the prospect of losing to a highschool team when they reached Madras and put in for some time ashore did seem to motivate the ratings, and the speed at which their limbs, Walmingtonian skin reddening under the glare of Sol, flailed did seem to increase in response to the Lieutenant's urging. The crew of the Dame Mavis -Merry Mave to them- were set to play one of the local schools in a couple of cricket exhibition matches tomorrow, provided they made up some time lost to engine trouble and got to Madras as planned. The enlisted men were going to play the students, and it was just possible that the officers might play the teachers, too. Probably the association with India and all the extra cricket (and tea) that it provided had a lot to do with Walmington's reluctance to declare a republic and end its long-running Dominion status within the British Empire.

Mave was the second in a two-hull class of multi-role corvettes that represented the bulk of the tiny but proud Royal Walmingtonian Navy, and was named for the first female Governor General, still held to have been one of the greatest.

She was on a friendship tour of India and Ceylon, though her captain, James Frazer had it in his head that she was operating chiefly on an anti-piracy mandate. He, a grey but powerful old salt, native of Norbray, was leaning over the rail at the bridge, drinking lime-infused ale from a leather tankard marked with the ship's motto and his family coat of arms, watching the day's exercise routine. With him, Admiral Claude Gordon, described once as a silly bald-headed old duffer, stood, hand in pocket, sipping away at his own silver tankard, the fourth pint of the day for this watch, clearly enjoying the sun and the sea air. "Very nice."

Gordon leaned back a little, with an odd look on his face. "I say... I swear I can see land a starboard."

"Ah, away wi' ye." Muttered a dismissive Frazer, not intending to be heard.

"No... no, by my eyes, I can see land."

"We're steering fifteen knots out." The captain finally replied, suggesting that Ceylon -specifically Tamil Eelam- ought to be over the horizon. He didn't expect to be second-guessed by the Admiral at this point, so when Gordon persisted, Frazer finally drew himself up and strained his old eyes against the glistening ocean.

"Christ! Helm!" Frazer planted his beer firmly on the sill skirting the bridge and made his way purposefully inside.

"GPS link is down, sir, but radio location shows we're on course."

"Rubbish, son! I can see we're off by miles!"

Frazer was, to say the least, an intimidating character, the most experienced mariner in Walmington with an unescapably morbid aura about him, and the whole bridge was hastening to find him an explanation.

On deck, two dozen men were bending their necks towards the bridge, still bent double with arms outstretched and windmilling from one foot to the next. Then, shouts and a sudden end to exercise. "Surface contact bearing Green one-two-zero, speed forty knots closing!"

This was the last clear communication picked up on the Indian mainland before Dame Mavis was struck by a straight-running 533mm torpedo and broken in half.

The last message of the HMWS Dame Mavis, a ship from a small but still influencial fellow member of the British family of nations, was recieved by the "sea lane traffic control" centre in Rameswaram and was immediately forwarded to the control tower at the local RIAF station.
The controllers in the stations rather quiet control tower were not unduly worried by the intial message, being as the shipping lanes in the Palk strait were massively cluttered, especially with only one safe passage through the Adams Bridge for large vessels.

However when the Corvette failed to broadcast an all clear message for several minutes, the lead controller of the Palk Sea Lane requested a routine beacon check from the Dame Mavis, and immediately called the controllers at RIAF Rameswaram when he failed to get a response.
Within minutes of the controller pushing the "panic button", as the men of the control room called it, both of the Sea King Search and Rescue Helicopters that were maintained on permeanant standby at the station were taking off and heading towards the area of the ships last known response, while the other two helicopters on station were readied by hurridly mustered ground crews.

In addition, a fifth helicopter, this one a Westland Lynx from the rather decrepid Type 12I Frigate HMIS Tricomalee, nominally the Guardship assigned to patrol the shipping lane. The frigate herself reversed her previous heading and started back southwards towards the same location, with many of the crew looking rather disbelievingly at the 4 live Sea Skua missiles affixed to the aircrafts underside easily vissible as the helicopter pitched forward and climbed, kicking spray from the surface of the warm Indian Ocean.
As the frigate executed an unusually swift turn about and brought her ricketty old engines to flank speed, speeding her towards the straits as fast as the old girl could manage many of the crew were left to wonder, had the war they had all been dreading for 60 years finally arrived?

As the final known location of the Dame Mavis was displayed on the control boards of the scratch force now attempting to reach her, many of the more well informed people in the force realised that these coordinates put her dangerously close to the Tamil side of the strait, which meant that this would probably cause a diplomatic incident, at least, if not a full blown armed conflict, because of this a courier was dispatched from Joint Headquarters in Delhi to the Viceroys residence.
Interrupting the absolute ruler of India during luncheon was not a polite thing to do, but an allied vessel had just dissapeared in a busy shipping lane, a shipping lane with communist rebels on one side, rebels who had been trying to stir up revolt in the Southern States for years, rebels that could do with a proper spanking.... atleast according to the Viceroy.

"...Unidentified Indian warship, you are in restricted Soviet waters, this is your second warning..."

The corvette, wrongly presumed by inexperienced staff of the newly-expanded Sea Tigers to be Indian, had come several clear miles into Tamil Eelam's territorial waters and ignored warnings to turn back. Now she was ignoring threats to board her, and pressing on close to Kankesanthurai, where an on-going build up of Sea Tiger supplies and equipment was being prepared for major operations in Tamil Nadu.

Viewing the Dame Mavis's incursion as a likely Indian strike against this build-up, supposed to have been top-secret, the Soviet defence forces dispatched a FAC to intercept. Fearing herself out-gunned and unlikely to survive a close-quarter engagement should the enemy fire first, and still poorly provided in terms of ship-to-shore communications equipment, the vessel's elected captain chose to strike first, launching two 533mm torpedoes at close to maximum range, one finding the mark while the second ran out of steam a few dozen metres beyond the target and went inert before sinking to the bottom.

It took some minutes for word of the incident to spread through the Tamil Eelam military and governmental apparatus, meaning that their response was no quicker than India's, but the FAC at the centre of the operation was soon ordered back out to sea along with two smaller fibreglass boats and an IAB-330 helicopter was sent up from Jaffna to assist in recovering survivors and wreckage to aid an investigation. Two MiG-21 Lancer were also placed on high alert and the nation's limited radar network pushed up to full capacity as Trincomalee tried to discern whether or not an Indian invasion was beginning.

Pondicherry

HMS Stuart bobbed at anchor, her white ensign hanging limply from the masthead in the still South Indian air. Her crew was scattered throughout the city of Pondicherry, taking in the sights, sounds and myriad pleasures of one of India's more beautiful areas. With little to concern Her Majesty's Government in Southeast Asia, Stuart and the other ships of the Australian Station were scattered throughout the eastern hemisphere on friendship cruises, anti-piracy patrols and training exercises, and the little frigate had landed by far the easiest job of the lot: touring India and stopping in at larger port cities to show the flag.

Captain Earnest Savige, a small New Zealander, first heard of the disappearance of HMWS Dame Mavis on the nightly news in his hotel room, having taken the opportunity to leave the ship for a few nights while his exec handled the mundanities of shipboard life. He put down his novel and watched with growing concern as the presenter, who looked at first glance to be of pure British extraction, explained that a Walmie corvette had disappeared in contested waters near Tamil Eelam. As the story drew to a close, Savige reached for his mobile and tapped in the number for the wardroom telephone.

"Right, Sam? Yeah, it's Ernie. I just heard on the news that a Walmie ship disappeared in the channel, and there was all sorts of speculation as to whether it was the Tamils flexing their muscle. Right. No, nothing official's come in for me, I wanted to ask you if Fleet had given you any word. Hmm. It's probably nothing. Still, put out the word that men aren't to leave the immediate confines of the city in case we need to ship out quick. Right. Thanks, Sam." Savige sighed and put his phone back on the bedside table. Nothing to do but wait for official word, and try to enjoy the rest of the vacation.

Walmington on Sea, Walmington

The Standard broke circulation records with its publication the morning after Dame Mavis's disappearance. It wasn't just that half of the RWN's fighting capability had vanished, but that Captain James Frazer, one of the most storied sailors in Walmingtonian history, and Admiral Claude Gordon were missing, along with around forty other officers and men.

While Governor-General Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne assured the public that there was no need to be alarmed at this early stage, Conservative Prime Minister Beauregard Rain had instructed the Admiralty to contact Whitehall and confirm that the Royal Walmingtonian Navy had indeed lost contact with Dame Mavis and was in need of assistance to pursue an immediate investigation and search operation. The Walmingtonians had to request that Britain pass the message on to India and Ceylon, and criticism of the Conservatives' assertion that Walmington couldn't afford to maintain full diplomatic presences in those countries now seemed valid.

Palk Strait

The speed at which the Merry Mave had submitted to the attention of a single old 21" torpedo, coupled with the fact that so many hands were up on deck at the time of impact, meant that many casualties had been taken. Several men who had been exercising were flung into the air by the impact, and those still below decks hadn't chance to escape. In the main, it was the bridge crew that survived, being just far enough from the initial blast and yet close enough to points of exit. But that still left a total of twenty-four men -Frazer and Gordon amongst them- clinging to life preservers and flotsam, bobbing about a couple of kilometres off Jaffna, deep in Tamil waters.

Just about everything aboard Dame Mavis had failed. First the GPS went down, then radar location gave conflicting readings, then the hull fractured catastrophically the instant it was struck, and there was no hope of damage control being carried out. Apparently, building 'modern' corvettes on Castle Class hulls with contracts going to the lowest bidders -several of them- was an imperfect practice, leaving one to wonder about the seaworthiness -or at least combatworthiness- of King Godfrey, the leadship, currently attached to Admiral Longworth's Channel Fleet.

OOC: WoS, would you like me to lend you some old Island Class OPVs? I don't really use them at this point, and they might make for a nice addition to the Royal Walmingtonian Navy...

No.10 Downing Street

Special sessions of the cabinet were always somewhat haphazard affairs, but this one had come together quite nicely. Probably, it had something to do with the fact that not all members were present, since the matter was of relatively minor importance. Walmington on Sea was a valued ally, perhaps, but it was also very small and not prone to excitement. The only reason that the cabinet had even assembled was that the Dame Mavis disappeared in the Palk Strait, an area of tensions between the admittedly bellicose Indians and the unpredictable Tamils. And so, over a scattering of Assam tea, coffee and biscuits, Her Majesty's Cabinet–or at least, parts of it–gathered to discuss the fate of an aged corvette.

"Right," Christina Lloyd said, her voice cutting through the chatter of ministers, flunkies and the occasional server. "The Walmies lost a corvette, and they'd like us to do something about it. From a diplomatic standpoint, we've actually got to be careful. Reports from the, er, Walmingtonian Admiralty," she failed slightly to suppress a grin. The Walmingtonians owned a handful of ships and had a full Admiralty to command them, and amongst the missing was an admiral of their fleet. "Ahem. The Walmingtonian Admiralty informs us that HMWS Dame Mavis was is missing in the Palk Strait, which separates mainland India from Ceylon and Tamil Eelam. They aren't sure exactly where the corvette was when she disappeared, but the last radio report is conflicting, so there's the possibility that the Walmies actually violated Tamil waters. That puts us in the difficult position of possibly being in the wrong here–"

Admiral Sir Jonathon Band interrupted, the First Sea Lord's gruff voice simply overpowering Lloyd's diplomatic soprano. "Ma'am, excuse me, but whatever the political consequences, we've got the Queen's subjects possibly in danger and possibly dead. Political considerations aside, we have to at least notify the Indian Navy and organize a search." He paused, inviting Lloyd to respond.

"I don't disagree," she said evenly. "On the other hand, we are in danger of sparking a much wider conflict than intended. India already has tensions with Tamil Eelam and Ceylon, and any precipitous action on our part could lead to a diplomatic crisis." She took a sip of her tea and gave a huff of irritation. "I don't want to sound ghoulish, but it might just be that we've got to let this one go, lost lives or not. We've spent months re-opening relations with the BDR, and we're only now seeing that start to pay off. We can't simply throw that away over a single Walmie corvette."

"Hold on," Anthony Pierse, ambassador to Walmington, was a smallish man who, in his middle age, was tending towards plump. His voice was high and uninspiring, but he certainly knew Walmington's occasionally insular politics and had an eye for the culture that most British people considered backward and provincial. "The major Walmingtonian paper has already run a pretty impressive headline about this whole affair, and I've heard from my colleagues in Delhi that Indian news is covering this too. The Times might not have picked it up yet, but it's all over India and Walmington. It's too late to bury this, even if we could." He glanced briefly at Prime Minister Strathairn, who had thus far said nothing at all, and then at Secretary Lloyd. They'd had their troubles with the media, and knew better than anyone in the room how difficult it was to stop a story once it got out. "I'm sure we all know how the media is," he finished lamely.

Strathairn squashed the flicker of annoyance at Pierse's comment, which from his tone was doubtless not intended as a jab. Personal issues had no place in politics, he reminded himself. "Admiral Band," he said, breaking silence for the first time in the meeting. "Do we have any ships in the area that could conceivably assist in a search?" Band nodded.

"HMS Stuart is in Pondicherry, and HMS Barrie, one of our diesel submarines, is on maneuvers with the Indian Navy. It's not much of a force, but with the Australian and Coral Sea fleet scattered as much as they are, it's probably the biggest force we have that can meet up in anything approaching a reasonable time-frame." Strathairn pursed his lips.

"Christina, how far can we go here? If the corvette was in Tamil waters, will the BDR stand for us mounting a rescue?" She shook her head.

"Frankly, I don't know. Chivo is fairly friendly to us, and he might be pleased enough with the possible environmental co-operation we've brought up to soften the negative impact of all this, but it's hard to tell. I'd recommend restricting ourselves to rescue operations, carefully respect Tamil waters, and caution the Indians to do the same."

"All right. Unless there are other objections, I'm going to order HMS Stuart and HMS Barrie to rendezvous with whatever the Indians come up with. Someone call up the embassy in Delhi and have them lean on the governor general to exercise extreme caution in this case. I'll speak to him, if need be."

HMS Barrie, Gulf of Mannar

"Skip, this just came in of the VLF wire." Chief Petty Officer Browder handed his commander the clipboard, covered with a yellow slip market EYES ONLY. He took a step backward, but his eyebrows crept up and he rocked forward on his toes in an attempt to peek. Commander Olivia Morncreek took the clipboard and gave Browder a quelling glance, to which he only smiled impishly before sketching a salute and retreating from the wardroom.

Submarines are not the most private of places, still less the cramped diesel boats of the Collins class. Relatively modern, they were still much smaller than the nuclear Trafalgars, and though still silent when running on battery they made enough noise to be detectable when cruising on diesel engines. The interior was nothing to boast of, the halls were narrow and the ceilings low. Between foodstuffs, armaments and forty-five men and women, there were few places that a person could go to be alone. That was one reason that Commander Morncreek liked commanding her own boat; the privacy of the captain's wardroom was unparalleled, and she didn't have to rotate out bunks, sharing a bed with someone else while the other was on watch.

That, and Morncreek actually liked submarines. She was one of the few in the Royal Navy that did, and her rapid rise in the submarine service paralleled the degree to which she enjoyed the job. At twenty-eight, she was one of the younger officers with an independent command in a peacetime navy, although it didn't stop the ratings from referring to her as 'mum' when they didn't think she was nearby.

The commander scanned the VLF message, ordering her to "proceed forthwith to the Palk Strait, rendezvous with HMS Stuart and any Royal Indian Navy vessels which may be present, and engage in urgent search and rescue operations pertaining to the disappearance of HMWS Dame Mavis". She smiled. Even under the limitations of the VLF wire, which copied text at a hideously slow rate and used prodigious computing power, the Admiralty managed to stick words like "pertaining" into a message. She tucked the clipboard under her arm and tugged her submariner's cap into place over her short, somewhat messy hair. In twenty paces and a ladder climb, she was striding into the Conn, ducking exposed piping.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we've been given a job. Officer of the Deck, make your depth thirty meters, course for the Palk Strait, and speed twenty knots." The OOD rattled it all back, the navigator bent over the plot and the Conn came alive, the submarine off to her date with an Anglo-Indian task force and a crisis in the making.

((OOC: That's quite appealing, I must say. The Walmingtonians would probably delight in owning vessels designed to fight Cod Wars with Iceland. While the British may have their old policy of superiority to the next two navies, the Walmingtonians aim at (and have now arguably lost) superiority to the Icelandic Coast Guard ;) ))

The first pair of bright yellow painted Sea Kings was now approaching visual range on the last known location of the Dame Mavis, which was now shown only by several large chunks of flotsam visible on the helicopters Telescopic TV monitors, the problem was, if they advanced anywhere near the distance required to rescue anyone, they would have to enter Tamil territorial waters, which would precipitate a diplomatic incident, although the location of the wreck of the Dame Mavis and the lack of a clear distress call probably indicated that such an incident had already occured, which was why the helicopters ignored the arbitrary line drawn in the sea by the politicians and proceeded into Tamil Territorial Waters, along with the fact ofcourse, that it was the duty of the helicopters to rescue as many as possible from the wreck site, whatever the cost.

The Westland Lynx was approaching from the North and had just detected a Fast Attack Craft on its Ferranti Radar, which indicated that there were Sea Tiger forces in the area, which inturn meant that this was probably going to get very sticky.
"Trincomalee Actual, this is Bailey, requesting weapons free status, one tin can sighted on the radar"
"Bailey, this is Trincomalee Actual, Hold"
The pilot continued towards the location of the wreckage while the Captain of the Trincomalee consulted the Admiralty in Delhi, who had just recieved word of a snap decision from the Viceroy, whose lunch was now being hustled into his Bentley, where he would continue to eat and drink while he was driven to the Joint Command Centre in Downtown New Delhi.
"Bailey, this is Trincomalee Actual, you are authorised to expedite the rescue of any survivors, however, you are not to enter Tamil airspace without further authorisation" the hum of the ships engines straining to exceed design limits was almost audible in the background.
"Trincomalee Actual, this is Bailey, Understood, out"
The helicopter continued to speed towards the destiny of two entire nations, and possibly the entire world.
At the nearest RIAF Fighter Base outside Tanjavur, four F-4 Phantom Fighters taxied from ready shelters and moved towards the runway, while flight crews and technicians rushed to ready the rest of the Squadron of aircraft assigned to the airbase, one that had been designed to handle an entire wing of aircraft in the event of a conflict, but was normally almost as sleepy as the SAR station from which the Sea Kings had launched. The dissapeared into the midday sky and turned for the strait, proceeding at a rapid cruise. The Skyflash Air tO Air missiles fitted to the recessed fuselage pylons glinting visibly in the sun.
British India wasnt about to start a war, but they would not hesitate to do what was neccesary to protect the lives of Walmingtonians, Britishers and Indians alike, even if meant wiping a nation from the map.

The Quinntonian ambassador to WoS was quite quick in offering the rescue efforts of the 7th Fleet (without asking the Pentagon first and with no real understanding of how long it would take to get any assets inbound). However, when contact was made with the Pentagon, they immediately dispatched Col. David Wilson, a military attaché that had some interesting negotiations to begin.

Now, Col. Wilson was something of a golden boy in the upper administration of the US military command structure, and a fair to good Naval pilot. He was considered fairly doughy now that he was out of cockpit, and though perhaps the whitest man one could ever see, he had at some point become deeply affected by the black urban experience, which led to a rather eclectic form of civilian dress and the occasional odd verbal inclination. Of course, he was shrewd negotiator and was being attached to the embassy in WoS in order to provide material support should things turn sour for them. As he landed in WoS, he e-mailed simple requests for meetings with various members of the Admiralty to discuss the possibility of a naval transfer to replace the lost surface vessel.

Back in Virginia, orders were being carried out to inspect and draw up plans in order to activate one or more of three vessels, two being Knox Class Frigates, and the last being a Brooks Class Frigate that until this morning many thought had been sold for scrap. The scuttlebutt was that they could be sold or transferred should they be deemed anywhere close to seaworthy.

WWJD
Amen.

The fact that a Walmingtonian newspaper had broken news of Dame Mavis's disappearance in the waters off Tamil Eelam was not immediately obvious to Trincomalee, which had no standing intelligence assets in that tiny, distant nation. Even the closer and rather wealthier BDR paid Walmington little attention, and by the time GSIC learned of the sinking and The Standard's claims, and passed the latter information on to its Asian allies, everything of significance may well have already played out.

The Igovian Soviet Commonwealth's intelligence in southern India, however, was excellent, with no shortage of ethnically or politically sympathetic agents to work with. Unfortunately, nobody was listening to the silence surrounding the earlier assumption that the sunk corvette had been Indian, hearing instead reports of activity at airbases and ports, and reacting as if this confirmed the initial suspicion that the long-awaited invasion was finally coming, or that at least a major raid was being mounted on Kankesanthurai.

Unfortunately, the Tigers were responding to inbound Indian ships, helicopters, and aircraft as if they were part of a military that had already ignored repeated warnings and been engaged with deadly force. This had inherent to it the added complication that assets which could have been picking up clearly Walmingtonian survivors -and finding no Indians in the water what so ever- were re-directed to intercept new targets, leaving just one Beddgelen-built multi-role helicopter and an armed trawler/coastal-supply vessel on the task.

The FAC Vaddukoddai, responsible for Dame Mavis's sinking, was re-directed along with two fibreglass suicide speedboats to search for more inbound Indian warships, while the first two MiG-21 Lancers to be delivered from Beddgelert, which was replacing them with a new domestic fighter first seen flying over the Akink meetings, were scrambled from Jaffna when an inbound helicopter contact was briefly acquired, then lost, then re-acquired by the creaky early-warning systems available to the Commonwealth. Armed with DRAB-ASRAAM and gunpacks, the heavily upgraded Fishbeds made their way towards the fringes of Tamil territory, some miles beyond the point at which Dame Mavis went down.

At sea, the IAB-330 helicopter, arriving near the scene of the initial interception and cautiously training a door-mounted PK machinegun on the floundering bodies, dropped an inflatable raft close to some of the survivors, and began broadcasting confirmation of the location back to shore.

Walmington on Sea, Great Walmington, The Dominion of Walmington

For now, the Quinntonian ambassador was thanked for his country's concern and told that Walmington believed the Indians and British to have assets close enough to begin a search and rescue mission, but of course if foreign aggression was found to be involved in Dame Mavis's disappearance then the friendship of the United States would be especially important to the Dominion.

When Colonel Wilson arrived, he was able to gain pretty regular access to Prime Minister Rain and Governor Wayne, despite their on-going involvement in 'managing' the crisis. With such a small government as Walmington's, it wouldn't do to palm-off the Quinntonians on some junior whose name would be utterly unknown beyond the little island.

Both men seemed happy to have a seemingly significant level of Quinntonian interest in their nation's woes. This could be found to be a rather odd thing when visitors from the US spent time amongst the general Walmingtonian public. Most people still thought of Quinntonian visitors in terms of the wartime description of GIs preparing for D-day as over paid, over sexed, and over here. But Rain had worked with many Quinntonian businesses before he became Prime Minister, and made himself one of the most successful businessmen in Walmington, while Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne was known to spend many of his holidays in New York's most up-market hotels.

The PM wasn't sure how to deal with Quinntonian offers to replace Merry Mave, should her loss be confirmed, especially on hearing talk of full-scale frigates. Walmingtonians as a people were outnumbered two to one by the people of Barbados, and though they'd never seriously considered stopping National Service requirements, the Conservative government would be hard pressed to justify the operating costs of a large warship. That was, unless Mave had been maliciously sunk and there was a war to be fought, of course.

Still, Wilson was invited to make himself comfortable in Walmington, either at the Quinntonian embassy or at the quaint but well-run 18th century Anchor Hotel where a room would be made available while the situation was figured-out.

Marigold Tearooms

The gentle clink and tinkle of Sheffield steel on bone china and the distant singing of a fresh pot dissolved like a sugarcube in hot tea, becoming blended irrevocably in the sun dappled room as mid-morning rays wriggled through the chintzy floral drapes. Walmington got far the best of British when it came to the weather, the Isles of Scilly perhaps excepted, bathed as they were in the warmth of the Gulf Stream. Walmies were fond of holidaying there, when they could afford it.

A plump, balding middle aged man in a black suit and round-rimmed spectacles sat at a little table, demolishing the small pile of sugarcubes between them as he shared a pot of Ceylon tea with his long suffering friend and colleague. Similarly dressed and of slightly more advanced years, this friend had rather more hair -even if it was quite silver- and rather less middle, and his carriage, even seated, was somehow more aristocratic.

Their discourse was deadly serious, of course. The first man insisted upon it. "This business in the black free state is a frightful mess, you know." He said, looking down at the bottom half of a folded newspaper that lay on the next table. He reached over to grab it, almost losing his seat, much to his poorly concealed consternation. His companion pursed his lips and bit his tongue in a time honoured fashion as he repressed a smile before taking a sip of disappointingly sugarless tea. He soon replied as the first man paused, forced to wincing by the passage over his teeth of three full cubes worth of the liquified stuff.

"Oh, the embassy thing? Dreadful mistake, yes."

"Ah, they always make mistakes like that, Wilson, but they'll soon learn not to go about threatening foreign governments."

Now it was Wilson's turn to wince and once again let-by painful commentary. He didn't need to worry about changing the subject, George Mainwaring, Manager of the capital's branch of the Swallow Bank, had unfolded today's copy of The Standard and found the headline. "Good Heavens! Wilson!"

Now it was time for conclusions to be leapt upon and indignation to swell. Perhaps Wilson could sneak one of the cubes from the next pile, then...

Palk Strait

Struggling to maintain their authority and their dignity, Captain Frazer and a wheezing Admiral Gordon hauled themselves aboard the inflatable dropped by a hovering helicopter which they only hoped would prove to be Indian or even Ceylonese. Six other men clung to the raft, while most of the sixteen further survivors had drifted further out to sea and would already be hard to spot from the air.

"We're doomed. Doomed." The Captain asserted in response to Gordon's pondering over the nationality of their rescuers. Despite his words, Frazer was far less visibly shaken than any of the others, as if he perhaps ate doom for breakfast on a daily basis.

Evidently, the Captain didn't consider it his job to reassure the men, rather to make sure that they faced their fate in the proper manner and didn't fuss too much.

The Pair of Sea Kings approached the wreck sight, alarmed at the sight of a communist helicopter already hovering over the men, the telescopic TV camera showing a nervous looking man in a flight suit struggling to keep a machine gun of some kind trained on the bright orange raft that it had either dropped or had been deployed from the Dame Mavis before its sudden demise.

The Westland Lynx simply hung in mid air at the edge of Tamil airspace, watching the drama unfold while its Ferranti radar continued to scan the sea in Tamil Territorial Waters, maintaining a check on the location of that Fast Attack Craft after it altered course.
"Helicopter Bailey, this is Knight 1, Inbound from heading 215, ETA 30 seconds, we read a pair of MiGs closing on your location, do you read" came the voice of the lead F-4 Phantom Pilot, speaking rather faster than would be normal on the radio, for good reason, even a pair of old MiGs would be more than a match for the Westland Lynx.

"Tamil Forces, this is Squadron Leader Thomas Collins of the Royal Indian Air Force, you will disengage at once and return to your bases, any attempt to intervene in the rescue of sailors from the Royal Walmingtonian Navy vessel sunk in the strait will result in your immediate destruction, out"

The Sea Kings dropped low to the sea and turned broadside, both of them manning winches and dropping moar bouys to assist survivors, the roundel of the Royal Indian Air Force clearly visible on the side of the airframe, the brightly painted Sea Kings in stark contrast to the more subdued paintwork of the Beddgelert-built Soviet Helicopter, the flight engineers sat with his feet over the size of the hovercraft aircraft, both of them training SLRs in the general direction of the Soviet Helicopter, but not in a way that would frighten the already nervous gunner any more than he already was.

The Four Phantoms slowed slightly as they passed around the Lynx, two to port, two to starboard and continued on, radars hot but not currently illuminating the enemy MiG-21s, the pilots alert but studiously keeping fingers away from triggers, it wouldnt do to start a war over nothing.

HMS Stuart, steaming south

Captain Savige sweated unhappily into his whites, staring at the choppy and featureless seascape to the west and the beige, featureless landscape to the east. India was a vast subcontinent, beautiful and bustling cities the exception rather than the norm in a land that, in large part, could still pass for virgin and unexplored 18th century princedoms. He grimaced. Would that that were reality, rather than an illusion fostered by India's great spaces. The world had been simpler, once. He remembered the stories that his grandfather used to tell, when Britain's battleships called at Port Darwin and the world bent to the benign and paternal Empire.

Of course, the Empire was still around, and for most small republics the sight of a British carrier would instill a sense of security for those allied with the crown and fear for those against it. On the other hand, many of these republics had the backing of a larger, less benign state. And most of them had territorial ambitions. The world wasn't safe anymore.

Savige's reverie was interrupted by Commander Sam Pyle, his XO and longtime friend. The taller man had a clipboad tucked under his arm which, from Savige's sidelong glance, depicted some sort of location plot. Savige beckoned the commander to accompany him back inside the bridge, leaving the view of India's bleak plains to themselves.

"Captain sonar reports a PROBSUB, estimated range thirty-nine klicks southeast. That puts her right in the Palk Strait, and analysis of her engine sounds suggest that it's HMS Barrie running her diesels." Savige nodded. It was like Morncreek to have pushed her engines to get to the rendezvous point a little early. In relatively friendly waters and an uncertain tactical situation, it would signal a show of force to have Barrie easily detectable rather than secret, and her almost totally silent electric motors gave the submarine the ability to disappear almost instantly, should the situation warrant it.

"Very good, Sam." Savige took his seat, the synthetic leather immediately adhering to his sweaty back. "Lieutenant James," he said, angling his head over his right shoulder to glance at the communications officer. "Send a message to the Delhi Admiralty and request information regarding their deployments. Assuming that our Admiralty's been doing its job regarding force liaisons, there should be some sort of surface group forming to complete rescue efforts and ascertain the cause of Dame Mavis's disappearance."

The Bundeskanzleramt, Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany

"... and, concluding this briefing, it appears that the Royal Walmingtonian Navy has lost contact with one of its vessels operating in South Asia. In fact, it is big news in Walmington and India, it seems.
The British inform us that they have already dispatched ships to investigate, and - as well as the Quinntonians - are preparing an offer to replace the missing Walmingtonian unit, the corvette Dame Mavis."
Frank Dieckmann, undersecretary of state of the German chancellory, closed his folder and turned out the date projector.
"Thank you, Frank. Please set up a briefing on the Bedgellen environmental treaty with Mrs Roth, will you? As for this missing ship," chancellor Johannes Ahler paused for a moment, mostly to recall everything he knew about Walmington on Sea's naval power, which was not much, owed to the fact the the Walmingtonian navy itself wasn't much, "do you have any information on why it disappeared?".
"I do. It seems that the last reported position of the Dame Mavis was close to or even within the waters of Tamil Eelam. British reports seem to support this. The foreign relations bureau for South Asian affairs is on it and the foreign minister has been informed in his morning briefing as well.
Our ambassadors in Walmington, London and Delhi are monitoring the situation as well."
Ahler pondered on that. Apparently, the British were worrying about this, which was only natural. The Quinntonian interest in this affair was a small surprise, but maybe they only wanted to make some profit out of outdated ships. The Bedgellens though, they won't like it if Indians and Britons dabble around in Tamil Eelam... He remembered a former report about once again rising tensions in South Asia. He came to a decision. "Frank, this is, first of all, a humanitarian problem. Is there anything we can do to help?"
"Well, we have not been asked for this, and our only asset in the region is the Bayern, she is currently en route to Diego Garcia on a friendship mission and for joint excercises with the Quinntonians. Anyway, she is too far from Ceylon to be of any help in the short term.
Besides, the Bedgellens..." "I know, I know", Ahler interrupted him, "let her continue for now, but I want foreign relations keep an eye on this. If this Walmingtonian ship was sunk by Tamils, things could get pretty bad down there, and the BDR will then get involved, too.
Oh, and of course offer the Bayern's assistance to Walmington and the British, should they need it."
Ahler would try to talk to foreign minister Fischer about this on tomorrow's cabinet meeting. However, there were other pressing matters to attend to.
"Now, about the healthcare reform, I'd like to..."

I assume that British liasons to Germany and Cassanos will have informed their allies about this, please tell me if I'm getting this wrong.

The Gulf of Mannar

Ceylon's navy usually stations at least one warship near the Palk Strait to monitor that important waterway, in this case the patrol ship Garuda (based, like Dame Mavis, on the British Castle class), as well as several far more secretive submarines, so the Republic is able to observe the unfolding crisis more or less first-hand. Garuda's particular electronics configuration, and its contingent of Military Intelligence code-breakers, make it an especially valuable asset. Lieutenant Nicolau Fonseca, captain of the Garuda, immediately transmits a plain-text message declaring his vessel's nationality, position, and peaceable intentions, and requesting permission to enter Tamil waters in order to assist with rescue and recovery efforts. Fonseca sincerely hopes that the arrival of a ship belonging to a nation that all parties find more or less agreeable will help to diffuse what looks set to be a terribly messy situation, and Garuda makes a brisk 18 knots towards the position indicated by radio intercepts, all the while transmitting its position and intention regularly and in plain language. The corvette's single Bofors cannon isn't likely to frighten much of anything, but, as an extra precaution, Fonseca orders it covered, and the outsize Ceylonese ensign run up.

So as not to aggravate the tense state of affairs, Colombo keeps the rest of its navy well away from the site of the sinking, though not so far that they would be unable to respond to a strong Indian showing in the strait.

Colombo

Assisted greatly by the up-to-date intelligence provided by NRC Garuda and a patrol-configured Andover airborne over the Gulf of Mannar, as well as, of course, by the Military Intelligence Directorate's own signals intercept stations and the Special Research Directorate's networks on the Indian mainland, the Republic rushes to defuse the present crisis. Like the Tamils, the Ceylonese are, at first, extremely concerned that their island might be the target of some Indian attack, and they figure that the viceregal authorities might have sacrificed some poor corvette in order to provide a pretext, but that traditional suspicion of imminent invasion from the mainland quickly subsides. It is not long before Colombo concludes, not without some surprise, that the torpedoed ship is most likely Walmingtonian.

Official communiques are produced at a stunning rate by a number of cabinet departments and sent off to London, Washington, Walmington on Sea, Trincomalee, and any other government that might have some interest in the affair at hand, all calling for calm, restraint, and immediate de-escalation. Prime Minister Mahmoud Ahmed himself appears at a press conference calling for just that, and takes the opportunity to present evidence suggesting some sort of tragic mix-up in the Palk Strait. He also calls for an official, multi-lateral agreement on maritime law, and offers Colombo as a seat for negotiations towards that purpose.

At the same time, the Republic's military is placed at a higher level of readiness, in case the Indians are actually up to something underhanded. But Ceylon, without a doubt, is extremely eager to solve this issue as quickly and as peacefully as possible, and its (relatively) good relations with the British and the Tamils at least will perhaps make this easier to achieve. Ceylon's defense ministry is of course quite furious at the Tamils for sinking the Walmingtonian corvette without giving it prior warning, but official language is, as usual, maximally inoffensive and conciliatory.

Berlin/Warszaw

Both the German and the Cassanotian government have received Ceylonese communiqués and start monitoring the situation in the Indian Ocean more closely. While siding with the Ceylonese in their call for restraint and reason, especially since there seems to be evidence for a tragic misunderstanding, both governments also contact their British allies to assure them of their support in the event of a real Tamil aggression.
Cassanotian and German navy attachés in London remain in close contact with their British counterparts, keeping their governments up to date.

Intelligence personnel is flown to Colombo from the German and Cassanotian embassies in British India, with the German ambassador to Ceylon asking for leave to have this joint team analyse the Ceylonese data about the Mavis-incident.

At a press conference, the German foreign minister Fischer asks for a multilateral investigation in this affair, preferably including neutral nations, and repeats that this is the time for a calm, deliberate of action. He also once again expresses Germany's sympathy for Walmington's loss while condemning the seemingly rash and exceedingly violent attack by the Tamils.

OOC: As usual, LRR makes it difficult to have a crisis escalate without blame on all sides for ignoring cogent, reasonable solutions.

London

Never hesitant to generate paper, the Foreign Office responded immediately to Ceylon's various messages. Prime Minister Ahmed's revelations–that the Dame Mavis had almost certainly been sunk, that it was probably not accidental, and that the Tamils were suspected responsible but not deliberate in their aggression, provoked a great deal of speculation and excitement in Whitehall. There were a few calls for the deployment of more surface ships, but for the most part the government seemed to be adopting a 'wait and see' attitude. Lacking firm statements from the Prime Minister, the Foreign Office settled upon issuing vague condemnations and requests for information from the Indians, Tamils and Ceylonese, while making friendly but largely uncertain noises towards Germany and Cassanos. The Quinntonians, who were surprisingly willing to deploy massive military force and increase the Walmingtionian fleet threefold in hulls and tenfold in effectiveness, were viewed with amusement and somewhat benign alarm. While nobody resented Washington's friendliness, it occasionally seemed to emulate a large, friendly dog in a small, crowded room: in wagging its tail, it was just as apt to knock something over as it was to provoke pats on the head.

After several hours of discussion, the Foreign Office issued one of its well known, stilted declarations of position on the matter. Dispersed to all nations involved, the formal language masked very real irritation with the Tamil military and patience that might best be described as 'short'.

http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c95/Spoat/AMW/170px-UK_Crest.jpg
Foreign and Commonwealth Office
Dieu et mon droit.
With the full understanding that the government of Tamil Eelam retains the Right to police its own Waters, administer Justice therein, and take whatever Measures it deems necessary against nationals over which it exerts a Rightful and Legal control, HM Foreign and Commonwealth Office denounces the Illegal and Unprecedented Attack upon Her Majesty's Walmingtonian Ship Dame Mavis, satisfied that HMWS Dame Mavis did not pose a credible Threat to the security of Tamil Eelam. As subjects of the Queen, the Officers and Crew of HMWS Dame Mavis fall under Her Protection, and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Empire thereby claims sufficient Justification to take whatever Measures are deemed necessary to protect, secure and safeguard the lives of said Subjects.

Her Majesty's Government, being the Body responsible for the Execution of said Measures, hereby informs the government of Tamil Eelam that two naval Vessels, HM Ships Stuart and Barrie, will oversee the Rescue of HM Walmingtonian Subjects. Any Interference by nationals of Tamil Eelam will not be tolerated, nor will unjustified Actions by the Military of Tamil Eelam be viewed with favour.

Lacking the Desire for open Warfare between Tamil Eelam and the British Empire, HM Government is prepared to Forgive the government of Tamil Eelam for their apparent Role in the loss of HM Walmingtonian Ship, provided the government of Tamil Eelam is willing to co-operate in the ensuing Rescue Operations. Further Investigation may be deemed necessary, and it is the Sincere Hope of HM Government that all Parties involved in the Incident are willing to co-operate fully. Should the Generous Offer of the Republic of Ceylon be mutually acceptable to all parties, HM Government is entirely in favour of neutrally administered Negotiations regarding this Matter.

Foreign and Commonwealth Office
Government of Her Majesty,
Victoria II Reginæ

Sithin, PRS

In Sithin, news of a vessel from Walmington sunk in the Palk Strait brings no small amount of excitement. No one wants a war between British India and the Tamil, and any loss of life in the sinking is sad indeed (both points Strainist diplomats will be sure to make incessantly), but the sinking ultimately offers confirmation of a narrative composed to secure the self-image of many in the Spyran capital, the true leaders of the world revolution.

For a half-century, those in Sithin have responded to Tamil accusations of 'rightism' and 'revisionism' by denouncing the Liberation Tigers as 'anti-solidarity' and 'terrorist', but the Tigers had shown frustrating restraint since their 1980s independence, while the failure of the Strainist-backed Popular Front policy (the forces of monarchofascism had not, after all, been destroyed as promised through cooperation between revolutionary forces and the Western capitalists) had caused some within the Progressive world to give credence to the criticisms voiced by the Tamil and their Igovian allies. A chance that the Tigers might have finally gone and blown up something important enough to make headlines in London and Berlin is thus welcome indeed... 'You see? We told you so. Looks like we were right after all."

Following arrival of data from Colombo, a statement is released by the People's Republic of Spyr, calling on all sides to practice restraint and cooperation in conducting a rescue and recovery operation, the neutral nature of that proposal compromised by the suggestion that Tamil Eelam 'halt its violent banditry in the Palk Strait and cease further terrorist activity'.

In the Karl Marx Hall of International Workers, headquarters for the International Union of Progressive Parties, Strainist delegates and their allies attempt to push the Progintern to issue a similar statement, though the matter has been tied up in debate, with (less ideologically-driven) Ceylonese representatives hoping to encourage a less confrontational approach.

The fact that Ceylon had in the area as a matter of course a ship similar in design to Dame Mavis was doing nothing for Trincomalee's claim -to which the Commonwealth was now basically committed- to have identified a suspected Indian warship undertaking hostile action. Surely the Garuda would have been a more reasonable misidentification to make?

Indomartus would again curse the Ceylonese for complicating a perfectly good scrap merely by being.

Apparently amongst the last to know, the Tamils realised that they were dealing with Walmingtonians as the Ceylonese and British communiqués came in, and eight of the buggers were plucked from the water looking distinctly un-Indian. Trincomalee appeared to back down, just a little.

London and Colombo were told in turn that Garuda had permission to proceed to the 'incident zone' and collect survivors. The Indians, though, including their Sea Kings, close enough to see some of the floundering sailors, had to get out of Soviet waters or risk further hostilities. Indomartus was still bitter over his enduring failure to capture Madras, which he called Chennai, and in his resentment of the Indians, some keen observers must have felt that he betrayed his disappointment in settling for the role of White Prince of Eelam, and pointedly not of Nadu.

That, and perhaps it gave him an excuse to avoid confronting his rivals back in the BDR. Damn Adiatorix, who chose the seemingly hopeless fight at home when his friend opted for the romance of the East and a softer touch in Ceylon. If he'd stayed at home, Dylan Eirody Popescu might have been Marshal of the People's Guard or Chief Consul of the Durotriges by now.

Well, let Pedro pick up the rest of the Walmingtonians, if they can tred water for long enough! India can start a war or slink away. We've got eight of them, two in nice fancy uniforms!

London

Tamil Eelam's attempts to dictate terms of the rescue mission were received very poorly by Whitehall, which was watching developments in the Palk Strait with increasing alarm and anger. After sinking a Commonwealth vessel, the Tamils apparently believed that they had the moral authority–and nerve, apparently– to demand that Indian rescue aircraft depart Tamil airspace and leave off rescuing the survivors for the Garuda, which would take some time to arrive while the Indians were already there.

At the Foreign Ministry, it was press conference time. Christina Lloyd, touched up with television makeup and ensconced behind a podium bearing the Royal coat of arms, reached up to adjust the microphone towards her face.

"The Tamil government has confirmed the sinking of HMWS Dame Mavis, but remains unwilling to allow Royal Indian helicopters to conduct rescue operations. During shipwreck rescue operations, timing is critical to the survival of men who may be injured, and for this reason Her Majesty's government has authorised the defensive use of weapons by HMS Stuart and HMS Barrie. Tamil forces are cautioned that any actions taken against Royal Indian helicopters or vessels, or any attempt to intervene in the rescue of Walmingtonian survivors, will be interpreted as an act of aggression.

In view of the developing situation, the Australian Fleet's friendship cruise in Southeast Asia has been canceled, and all vessels have been placed on high alert pending resolution of this situation. At this time, we regret that we cannot confirm the number or condition of survivors."

Palk Strait
"It appears that the Tamils want a war.... well then, lets give them one, Helicopter Bailey, you are cleared to engage enemy naval assets, good hunting, Knight Flight, target and eliminate enemy aerial assets, and try not to waste the helis that have the Walmingtonians aboard"
"Knight Two, Toned and Locked.... Knight One, Toned and Locked.... Knight Three, Fox Three"
All three Phantoms discharged one missile Skyflash missile each, the radars carried in the nose of the fighters designating the MiGs for the reception of a pair of Skyflash missiles each, as the Phantoms dropped to minimum cruise.
Meanwhile aboard the Lynx Helicopter that was now advancing into Tamil airspace, its Ferranti radar bouncing radiation off of the largest of the three marginal surface contacts, the only one which currently showed enough resolution to fire a Sea Skua, the English descended captain was lighting a cigar while his copilot worked on the firing solution.
"Firing solution for the FAC is clear sir"
"Very well...." he paused to take a puff on his cigar, "Fire one"
"Aye, Firing One Sir"
"Bruiser One Away Sir, missile is running straight and true"
The weapon Identifier symbol on the central radar console heading fast and true straight towards the hostile unit identify that occupied the top of the screen, covering the distance in under 30 seconds, as it approached its target the aircraft commander removed his cigar and said simply, "Boom".

Meanwhile the pair of RIAF Sea Kings were alerted of the course of events, and one of the FAL toting crew chiefs raised his rifle to guard, took careful aim through his rifle scope and fired a pair of rapid rounds into the chest of the door gunner on the Tamil helicopter, hoping that one of the walmingtonians it had already taken aboard had the state of mind to cease the fallen mans sidearm or somesuch and hijack the vehicle, meanwhile the Sea Kings began to pick up survivors using winches while the Pondicherry slowly closed the range as fast as her engines could carry her.

Madras
In a city that had been expecting a pair of exhibition matches from the crew of a small vessel from an even smaller nation, the news that the Dame Mavis had been lost in the Palk strait came as a shock, a shock that quickly gave way to anger as the popular press spun the story that she had been destroyed by the communists, and many people turned up at the departure of the surface group that set sail almost immediately, waving British and Indian Government flags and bearing placards telling the crews to bring justice to the communist bastards who had done this.
The group was the 3rd Frigate Group under a Commodore, it was the standing force responsible for the region and this explained how it had been readied so quickly, meanwhile numerous other ships on both coasts of the nation were being readied.
However the Admiralty was loathe to tap the other two ready formations incase either the Pakistanis or the Burmese chose to take advantage of the situation, so it was that 5 Type 12I-4 class frigates and a single Type 21 Refit would carry the flag of the British Indian Navy to the warzone, atleast for the moment.

Col. Wilson woke up to the reports from his aides that it looked as though some kind of low-level shooting war had begun. “Daaaaaaaaamn, thees shit ain’t wright – dog.” He pulled his hat on sideways as his main aide looked for his military uniform. He grabbed for his morning coffee quickly spilling a little artificial cream on his far too baggy shirt. He began punching furiously into his Blackberry while responding to the many e-mails that were suddenly flooding his Inbox, and did this for about twenty minutes while one aide pressed his military uniform, another burned up the phone lines calling local contacts asking for more information as to what the local government planned to do in response, and yet another was on their encoded satellite phone trying to contact the Foreign Ministry and the Pentagon, who were working out the details of logistics in regards to support.

Col. Wilson took only a quick break from this mainly information gathering activity to shower and the aide that was preparing his uniform was then put to work trying to raise the local government to arrange a meeting of the local Ministry of Defence, as he was starting to get a picture of what his government was prepared to do in order to help out.

Meanwhile, the embassies to Spizania and Hindustan/Lower Ceylon were contacting their respective Foreign Offices in order to get a feel for what those governments wanted to do with this situation, and how they best saw the USQ helping to re-stabilise the region.

In the meantime, an order comes from the Pentagon to make for blue water with the Carrier Battle Group, St. Paul. It is not expected that they will be directly involved in anything, but the Prime Minister believes that it would be prudent to have them within a respectful distance should they be needed. They will be heading south in the Indian Ocean around the point of the sub-continent. They want to be in the general regional area of the hot zone, but not close enough to threaten anyone.

((Sorry for the delay. We ran into something of an impasse regarding who should write what about events inside the helicopter. In the event we've decided that I'll get this post in and just deal with the whole helicopter scenario.))

The Walmingtonians, soaked and shocked, having tread water for some minutes before the arrival of the Puma-like Soviet helicopter (Walmingtonians, servicepeople and civilians alike, were bombarded with aircraft recognition briefings and posters, and the IAB-330 over the Palk Strait may as well have been an Aérospatiale Puma full of French commandos bound for the strategic prize of Stone's Arcade and the Novelty Rock Emporium on the Walmingtonian seafront), were still perhaps even less aware of where they were and what was going on than was the rest of the world. The cruel thump of military ammunition on flesh as the door gunner, who had been in the middle of retraining his weapon now that there was nobody in the water directly below for him to cover, was struck didn't help the young ratings to gather their wits.

"Christ! We've wandered into a bleedin' war zone!" Cried one, helpfully, as his comrade tried to push the gravely wounded Communist off him only to find his hands running with fresh blood.

The helicopter began to manoeuvre radically at this moment, almost casting Frazer through the open doorway, the old Captain saved only by his wrought iron grip, and the Walmingtonians heard -and felt- the juddering report of the 330's twin nose-mounted 23mm automatic cannons as the Air Tigers returned fire on the Indian helicopters that, up until this moment, the sailors would have preferred to be aboard.

Two of the young ratings, looking to the cockpit, gained their feet, all be it with some difficulty as the pilot jinked and spun his aircraft in his attempt to destroy the hostile Seakings with cannon fire, but were discouraged first by Gordon's raised hand and then the brandishing of the co-pilot's sidearm.

"Don't chance it, boy." Said the Captain in his most paternal and disarming manner, concerned only with keeping his young charges alive, still not knowing how bad the situation was diplomatically and militarily. The ratings sank back on their haunches, but remained clearly tense, in anticipation of some chance to act in a yet undecided manner. The co-pilot was yammering at his stretched-out comrade, presumably in Tamil, and then began gesturing and hurling a few odd English words into the mix, leading to the Walmingtonians being given to the notion that he wanted somebody to attend to the door gunner's wounds. Good luck, he'd taken a full-size rifle round to the right shoulder, and there was blood coming from a second exit wound somewhere lower on his back, too. "Perkins, you've assisted the ship's doctor before." Said Frazer, softly, not expecting the young man to be able to do much except distract himself from the chaos of the situation and perhaps temporarily placate the gun-weilding Communist whom, he suspected, was only likely to get angrier when his friend stopped breathing.

HMS Barrie, Palk Strait

The sonar suite of a Collins class submarine was the best that the pound sterling could buy. Made by Thompson-CSF Racal, it could detect the hydrographic disturbance created by a school of fish dozens of nautical miles away, so when gunfire and missile launches occurred only a kilometer distant, the sonarman ripped his headphones off, dialed down the volume, and sang out:

"Missile launch! We have aerial gunfire, estimate range to be eight-hundred meters distant. Repeat, missile launch. Aerial gunfire, range eight-zero-zero meters." Commander Morncreek pursed her lips, face impassive in the dark conn. The Stuart and the Indian warships were still several kilometers distant, and sonar tracking estimates of their speed suggested that it would be hours before they arrived. For the moment, Barrie was the largest warship of any nation present in the strait, and the only one that was relatively invulnerable to the air assets that both India and Tamil Eelam were rushing to the area.

"Officer of the Deck, make your depth nine-zero meters. Sound general quarters throughout the boat, and load tubes one and two with Spearfish torpedoes." The OOD glanced at her with poorly concealed surprise; SOP didn't dictate that she engage neutral targets without prior confirmation from the senior officer in the area, who for the moment was Captain Savige. Military tradition and the Royal Navy's institutional discipline won out over doubt though, and the OOD repeated her orders with only a bare instant of hesitation.

Morncreek hissed through her teeth quietly. In a developing combat situation, she wasn't about to risk her boat by surfacing to request orders from Savige. Since the British Empire was formally allied with India–and more than allied, really, India acknowledged Queen Victoria as its head of state–it was reasonable to assume that the Tamils would treat Barrie as a threat, and further reasonable to take measures to reduce their ability to target the submarine.

"Sonar," she said, mind racing. "Acquire Tamil FACs. Weapons officer, flood tubes one and two, but do not open the outer doors." She unbuttoned the top button of her uniform shirt; submarines were hot, and a developing combat situation was no time to be concerned about proper uniform etiquette.

The Gulf of Mannar

Ceylonese sailors aboard the Garuda, preparing as they were to mount a search-and-rescue operation that would hopefully assist in defusing the situation, are taken entirely by surprise as the shooting starts. That isn't, after all, how this type of thing usually works itself out!

Lieutenant Fonseca, veteran of no few exchanges of fire with Indian warships, is however quick to react, and orders the Garuda, by now moving at flank speed, to flee the scene. Though armed, NRC Garuda is by no means meant to fight with, or even to threaten, proper warships, and Fonseca is also given no reason to doubt that the Indian helicopters in the area are carrying Sea Skua missiles, the likes of which could severely damage his 1,400-ton corvette. Transmissions stating the vessel's nationality and intentions continue, but the 40mm deck gun is manned and made ready for action, and an RBS-70 post is assembled on the helicopter deck.

The two Ceylonese submarines deployed on a regular basis to cover the area closely, Nautilus and Cuttlefish, are, like Barrie, fairly well-appraised of the situation, and their crews prepare for action in the event this engagement sparks a large-scale conflict. Ceylonese submariners remain fairly calm in light of these developments, their rules of engagement prohibiting any attacks without authorization from Colombo, so for the moment they sit tight and wait.

Colombo

The latest news from the Palk Strait sends the Ceylonese government, faced with a situation that it did not in any way expect, into a brief panic. India's actions are condemned in a strongly-worded press release submitted in record time, in which stated policy regarding the island as a whole is reiterated: whatever the Republic's differences with Tamil Eelam, any serious infringement on its territory, especially on the part of the Indians, will face a military response from Ceylon. The military itself is placed on high alert, and Trincomalee is asked as to whether a section of four AMC Tornadoes might be able to cross Tamil airspace in order to patrol over the Palk Strait.

Diplomats in Britain, Germany and Quinntonia ask that those respective governments also register their disapproval of India's 'unprovoked and inflammatory' attack, pointing out that this whole affair is unfolding comfortably within Tamil Eelam's territorial waters. In international waters, things would no doubt be quite different, but India, it seems, launched an attack against the Tamil military within Tamil territory. Ceylon's overriding priority, as is no doubt clear to just about everyone, is to keep Britain and Quinntonia, or either of those two parties, from coming down militarily on the viceregal authorities' side, and Colombo's diplomats intend to accomplish that through their usual appeals to calm and reasonable, multilateral negotiation.

For all sides, they say, the rescue of Walmingtonian sailors ought to be the overriding priority, never mind who has the right to rescue them. Once they're safely ashore, and their identity established, the Ceylonese promise to see that they are immediately released by the Tamils, and offer their own assistance in transporting them wherever they might want to go. This tragic mistake, the Ceylonese argue, should not be allowed to serve as a pretext for further bloodshed, and they ask world governments to help the aggrieved parties move towards a diplomatic solution before the most recent Palk Strait Crisis gets out of hand.

The Bay of Bengal

The 3rd Frigate Group's departure from Madras does not escape Ceylonese notice, and the Indian frigates will soon find themselves shadowed at a respectable distance by one of the Aeronautica Militar's patrol-configured Andovers. The Andover itself, though, is patrolling out ahead of a Ceylonese surface group, ordered by Colombo to make for the Palk Strait's northern end. These four warships, commanded by Vice Admiral Jehan Rajapaksa aboard the Ceylon-built Type 23 NRC Galle, are tasked with discouraging the Indian frigates from any rash action.

It is rather a shame that Garuda is chased from the area, or, from the Igovian point of view, a gift. Propaganda agencies in both Tamil Eelam and Beddgelert will gobble-up this fact as it relates to the Indian escalation of hostilities. It does seem, after all, that at one moment the floundering Walmingtonians were waiting for a Ceylonese corvette to save them, and at the next that corvette was fleeing in light of Indian missile launches. If Walmingtonians drown, it will be reasonably arguable that the cause is India's scaring-off of a potential Ceylonese rescue vessel.

Above the site of Dame Mavis's sinking, the Soviet helicopter does indeed turn the fight on the Indian helicopters. That India would allow an SLR to take on two 23mm auto-cannons probably says a lot of the dominion's respect for the value of its subject's lives.

Some kilometres away, the two Lancers find themselves under more serious attack. Representing the bulk of the Air Tigers' interceptor force, the two highly updraded MiG-21s were high-value targets indeed. And not without reason. They were well aware of having been illuminated by the F-4s for some time, and had hung back. Only when the Phantoms rounded the Lynx and violated Tamil airspace had they turned towards the intruders. The launch of enemy missiles was a slight surprise. The fighters reacted hurridly, loosing countermeasures and beginning evasive action.

Though in Tamil colours, these planes were flown by Geletians, and it was not long before, obselescent SARH missiles shrugged off at long range, the two planes were going weapons free on their archaic 3rd world opponents and closing fast.

DRAB ASRAAM missiles were soon in the air, searching for the Phantoms as the Lancers swept in from high. Indian-flown F4s against Beddgelen-flown Lancers may as well have been... Indian blokes against Beddgelen blokes in a punch-out. Somebody's head was getting stuck on somebody else's wall.

On the ocean's surface, however, things were rather different. The FAC had no notion of incoming missiles until one was spotted a few hundred metres out and engaged, without success, by machinegun fire. The small craft, constructed largely of fibreglass, might have evaded the missiles, if only its crew had any notion that they were approaching. Little bodies were flung in all directions on impact, the FAC had no chance. Dame Mavis's sinker was done for.

Ashore, the Ceylonese would probably be first to see that the Tamil Tigers were activating their Auxiliaries. Tamil Eelam had only 3.2 million citizens, but some 28,000 reasonably well trained defenders if need be...

London

"As we can all tell," Strathairn said, looking squarely into the cameras, "the developing situation in the Palk Strait does not recommend easy solutions, nor do recent events simplify matters. This government has just received reports that Indian and Tamil forces have exchanged gunfire, and while there are conflicting reports of sinkings and fatalities, it is clear that loss of life has occurred.

"The British Empire regrets that the situation has been allowed to deteriorate so far, and I would like to appeal to all parties involved to remain calm and allow for the rescue of the Walmingtonian sailors by Indian helicopters, or if this is not acceptable, by British helicopters deployed from HMS Stuart. Both Indian and Tamil forces, it seems clear, have demonstrated a marked willingness to use deadly force to resolve an issue that threatens the security of neither nation. Indeed, the only people whose safety is in doubt at the moment are the Walmingtonian sailors, and it is them that we must think about.

"Let me say this now, once and for all. The British Empire does not support the use of deadly force against Tamil targets at this time, and I formally request that the Royal Indian Air Force cease hostile actions at this time. However, the fact remains that a peaceful Walmingtonian corvette was sunk by Tamil forces, and an undetermined number of Queen Victoria's subjects were killed as a result. Accordingly, I cannot stress enough that the Tamils must not interfere further in this crisis, showing as they have a striking lack of concern for foreign citizens and a disturbing willingness to shoot first and ask questions later.

"Accordingly, let me propose the following. All Tamil and Indian forces will vacate the area and stand off to a distance of ten kilometers. British warships will conduct rescue operations, and all Walmingtonian citizens will be released into British custody forthwith. The lives of brave sailors are not bargaining chips, nor are they tools with which to execute a cynical, calculated act of aggression. Hostage taking and manufacturing cases for war are activities ill-suited to the governments of civilized states, and in such a situation as this, we must do our utmost to see that no more lives are wasted."

Beddgelert

A British-sponsored Indian attack on Tamil Eelam was one of the most highly expected scenarios in Igovian military planning. The proper response was to warn that Cassanos and Germany would be invaded if Britain didn't rein the Indians in.

Beddgelen mobile forces began to redeploy to the northwestern sectors. Germany had an advantage in manpower, self-propelled guns, modern battle-tanks, infantry mechanisation, interceptros, attackers, everything. But did this slow the Beddgelen deployment? These were a people who believed that the greatest German heros were in fact on their side. Let's not forget, 'Herman the German' was actually a Celt, probably a Geletian! Vanquisher of the Romans. 'Marcomanni' remains related to many Geletian swear-words to this day.

With the prevailing view in Beddgelert having it that the 1st world -the capitalists and multi-party democracies- was essentially a self-aware bloc equivalent to the Rome-Kyiv axis or the Igovian pairing of the BDR and Tamil Eelam, threatening near-by Germany and Cassanos was the easiest way of expressing the strength of Beddgelen opposition to Anglo-Indian menacing of Tamil Eelam. The nation's so-so ballistic missile stockpile was much more able to attack continental targets than the British isles or India, and the vast majority of Beddgelen combat aircraft had relatively short ranges.

Manila, Philippines, Embassy of Nueva España

The nearest diplomatic post of Nueva España, as a matter of fact the only post in the entire region, was Ciudad Real’s Embassy in the capital of Latin America’s Filipino cousins. The former ambassador of King Carlos II’s court to Manila, recently promoted to His Catholic Majesty’s Special Envoy for Asian Affairs, was Ponce Ortiz. As his first task, so the phone call from El Palacio de Ayuntamiento instructed him, was to address the growing Tamil crisis. He made his statement in Spanish in the embassy’s garden. It was then translated into English.

The media on hand to capture the event amounted to about two reporters with video, but the statement would sooner or later make its way into print.

“El Reino de Nueva España unilaterally condemns what it sees as a new wave of naked Northern European protestant colonialism. Indeed these events are very similar to NAZI aggression, which history also shows us was protestant and Northern European. The forces of Britain, of Walmington, and of other protestant European states are once again attempting to brutalize and enslave the third world as they have done, tragically, before. We exhort our developing Tamils brothers to stand firm, together with their Geletian allies, so that appealing to the continuous mercy of Christ they can overcome this naked militarism directed towards their subjugation and enslavement. You may not have the death weapons which those strange and unlovely protestant pirates use, but you have heart, tu tienes Corazon! You must wear them down with your righteous might, and show these filthy scum that we developing peoples, though we are not rich in goods, are rich in purpose. God bless you all, hasta la Victoria siempre!”

And, with a burst of gunfire, a wonderful opportunity turns to horrifying disaster.

It had all been unfolding so perfectly, from Sithin's perspective... however the Dame Mavis had arrived in Tamil waters, its sinking had been an extreme reaction, easily painted as an unjustified act from a terrorist state. Just the sort of incident the Strainists could tout amongst the world's leftists to increase support for the Progintern and its Popular Front of lockstep cooperation with the West.
It had been thought everyone else involved (save the Tamil, of course) had something to gain as well... London got a chance to remind its self-governing territories that there was still reason to seek strength in Empire, India a justification for harsh crackdowns against Tamil 'bandits' in Nadu... and all three would be armed with propaganda for use in securing the wedge between Ceylon and Tamil Eelam to further isolate the BDR-allied state.

An overt attack by Indian forces was, short of Washington declaring itself in blessed communion with Kiev, the worst thing that could have happened. Instead of the Tamil appearing dangerous, Spyr would now have to try and calm foreign leftists questioning why a supposed Popular Front ally was violating sovereign territory and forcing an end to rescue efforts. Instead of securing Ceylon's place as a Progressive, West-aligned friend, the sight of British Indian aircraft and warships would re-awaken longstanding fears in Colombo of invasion from the mainland and bind Ceylonese and Tamil closer in mutual struggle.

Needless to say, the People's Republic of Spyr is left with little love for British India as the news continues to filter in. In private, PRS diplomats in London will express their dissapointment that Her Majesty's government failed to teach its colony restraint before leaving it to its own devices.

The most recent proposal made by the British will also be criticized in such private discussions... though perhaps well-meaning, it demonstrates a lack of understanding when it comes to the Bedgellen psyche (and, have no doubt, it is the Geletians running the show, behind a curtain of Tamil). To the Igovian anarchist, the British are not a neutral alternative to the Indians because the British and the Indians are one and the same... both inseperable elements within a first-world capitalist empire. Sithin might understand that Progressive minds have much in common with those in the Western democracies, that British India has truly been granted freedom in its own affairs, but the Igovian mind believes that overt colonialism has merely pulled on a new mask. To them, if British India has attacked then Britain must have supported it, and no state will agree to vacate its own waters in favour of ships it believes to be hostile.

Sithin is not so foolish as to offer its own ships as a neutral force... even if any were close enough, vessels flying Strainist flags could expect a reception only slightly warmer than those showing the Union Jack in Tamil waters. No, the only solution at this juncture is to act quickly and attempt to salvage what face can still be saved in such a bad situation. India must be pushed to withdraw, to stand down its military forces, and the pilots involved coached before presenting a timeline of events. After all, it is reasonable (certain, surely!) that Tamil MiGs tageted the Indian aircraft first, and further violence was an unfortunate reaction to a threat while under tense conditions! If the Indian pilots have forgotten this truth, they ought be reminded of it before speaking to the media.

Resolving the immediate situation in the Palk will have to fall to the Ceylonese. Colombo is well-meaning, London will be assured, if sometimes skittish, but with the Indians having now demolished any possible rapport between Eelam and Western-Progressive states, Ceylon is the only power left which might be able to diffuse the situation. Let them make the same offer as the British, as their presence will be more acceptable to the Tamil than one from the West, and let them negotiate on the ground for release of any Walmingtonian survivors… they hope for peace, so support them as they work for it, and they will view the West all the better for being so reasonable.

----

In Progintern meetings, the course of debate shifts suddenly, and left with little ammunition to push their point the Strainist delegates can do little but moderate a statement supporting the most recent Ceylonese position and condemning unwarranted Indian aggression.

Berlin/Warsaw

After having gone public with a common statement basically siding with the Britih position and condemning any acts of violence by both Indian and Tamil forces, the German and Cassanotian governments were prepared to offer mediation between the parties, and had already called for an immediate ceasefire and the release of all Walmintonians by the Tamils.
The apparently erratic actions of the Beddgellen government, however, pulled both countries into what appeared to be a far-away-crisis before. Both German and Cassanotian ambassadors in Akink called for immediate meetings with the Beddgellen head of government and foreign minister, while the foreign ministries were frantically trying to salvage what was left from the formerly promising economical and political relations between the allies and Beddgelert and cursing the situation which probably caused homeric laughter in Kiev and Rome.

Especially in Germany, the conservative anti-communist opposition called loudly for the eviction of the Beddgellen ambassador and an "immediate and determined response to this act of leftist aggression".
While it was obvious that the Geletians were in no position to deal any serious harm to Germany or Cassanos for the moment, the redeployment of their forces against formerly uninvolved and mediating countries could not go unanswered in the face of the public.

As an immediate reaction, constant combat air patrols were implemented over southern Germany and Cassanos and some long-range air defence units of the II, IV and VI German and III and IV Cassanotian army corps put on higher alert, so as to be able to defend allied airspace against incoming aircraft or ballistic missiles.
Until further notice, all trade between the allies and Beddgelert is stopped and Beddgellen funds are frozen.
German and Cassanotian embassies announce that all German and Cassanotian civilians in Beddgelert are advised to stay in touch with their respective embassies and demand their safe return from the Beddgellen government.
German and Cassanotian tourists and other civilians in Tamil Eelam are ready to be flown out, with their governments chartering airplanes for these measures, informing all parties involved in the current conflict about this and demanding safe passage for all civilians.

The Cassanotian government used its traditionally good working relations with the Geletians to issue an unofficial request for... Basically for answers about the erratic steps taken by the Geletians.
While it was hoped that the Geletian actions could be kept secret for the time being, information on the mobilisation of their forces leaked through to the media almost immediately, forcing both chancellor Ahler and prime minister Edelman to soothe their respective peoples, thus limiting the possibilities to resolve this crisis quietly further.
As a reaction to the conservative media's uproar, also the allied air defence forces outside of the Geletian "threat envelope", i.e. especially in northern Germany and Cassanos, were put on higher alert as well the following day.

A high-ranking German official in the foreign ministry who wanted to remain unnamed was quoted calling Beddgelert's actions "immature shoot-first-ask-never nonsense".

It goes almost unnoticed that the German Brandenburg-class frigate Bayern left its current course towards Diego Garcia to link up with the St. Paul-battlegroup, should it become necessary to perform rescue and evacuation missions for German and Cassanotian citizens in the area.

[OOC: What about Austria, the Czech Republic and Slovakia? They are NPCs, but sit square in the way of the Geletians.]

Foreign Office, Whitehall

Strathairn's speech had been intended to project calm and give the illusion that Whitehall had some sort of contingency plan for this sort of thing, or at least some way in which it expected to function in a crisis of this nature. As a matter of fact, the idea that a British dominion would go and attack a neutral state during a tense political crisis without first securing the safety of Dominion citizens in the area, all while throwing away any plausible claim to military justification, was so unlikely as to never have merited serious consideration by any arm of government, no matter how paranoid.

As soon as Strathairn stopped speaking and the Foreign Office's staff could return to work, the telephone calls, emails and curt missives began to fly. Daniel Spader, Minister for Europe, could be seen surrounded by flunkies in his office, the door opened and attaches running in and out, with a telephone's handset wedged between awkwardly angled head and slightly hunched shoulder, his arms cradling a stack of briefs.

"Hello, yes. This is Spader, I need to speak with Comrade Chivo or someone in his cabinet immediately. Right, yes... I'll hold, thank you." He dumped the briefs on one of the more junior people in the room, unceremoniously cleared a desk covered with old papers with a sweep of his arm, and gestured to it in silent direction. The briefs were spread out and opened, and he took a seat, still waiting on the line.

In his own office in the next hall, Edmonson Keefe did his best not to burst a blood vessel. Minister for South Asia, it was Keefe's rather unpleasant job to handle Delhi in the middle of what was quickly turning into an unnecessary shooting war. Like Spader, he was on hold, listening to elevator music and waiting for some idiot assistant junior undersecretary to pass him off to an idiot junior undersecretary, and so on. He wasn't yet sure if he was being given the runaround by the Indian government, or if he was simply lower on the list of priorities than sacking whatever operational commander ordered "weapons-free" when dealing with Geletians.

What he had to say wouldn't take long. His job was to convey the British Empire's severe displeasure regarding the unilateral decision to use deadly force. Essentially, the problem was that London hadn't been kept in the loop, despite two British warships being in the area and a number of Walmingtonian citizens who, barring their own country's navy providing help, would look first to the British crown and not to one of the Dominion states. Britain might just be first among equals these days, but she was still first, and it seemed that Delhi could do with a bit of reminding on that score.

In the middle of this insanity was Christina Lloyd, her face still showing signs of having been hastily washed of television makeup. Her office was fairly large, as befitted one of the Secretaries of State of the British Empire, but it was packed to capacity today. Military officers, intelligence analysts and assistants bearing papers, folders and large pots of coffee ferried in and out of the room, though none of it seemed to have an effect on the relative crowdedness of things. At the moment, Christina and a few members of her staff seemed to be going over Sithin's latest word on the subject, recently conveyed by her diplomatic team. The proposal was reasonable, if a bit embarassing–Britain really shouldn't have to put up with arbitration by Ceylon, of all places–but as the Strainists had said, it was time to make the best of a bad situation by getting the Walmingtonians out, calming the Igovians, and cleaning up the Palk Strait.

"Someone get on the phone with Ceylon. Tell them that we need to speak with them immediately, reassure them that Britain did not know beforehand that the Indians would attack, and that in now way do we support this whole thing. Hell, tell them whatever it takes to get them listening, just don't promise them Goa or anything we might regret later." Christina let out a sigh and put her head in her hands.

"Damn it."

Ceylon wastes no time in responding to Britain's diplomatic approach, which goes a long way towards calming nerves in the foreign ministry. Ceylonese diplomats require few incentives to open direct talks with the British, though there is certainly a hope that diplomatic cooperation on this particular subject might lead to a stronger relationship between London and Colombo in general. Such is the excitement that none other than Abdul Hossain, the Republic's Foreign Minister, is on hand to take the call, and it is some time before the Minister realizes that he is only speaking to a relatively minor official on the other end of the line. Hossain, though, is a polite man, and he hides his surprise and slight embarrassment very well. In true Ceylonese fashion, carries on as though he were speaking to a British official more or less equal in responsibility.

Hossain praises the British reaction to this most recent escalation, assuring the British functionary that "Great Britain's fundamental good faith was never in doubt," and he goes on to recommend a face-to-face ministerial meeting at the soonest possible time. Ceylon, he says, will do its utmost to pressure the Tamil authorities towards both a cease-fire and the immediate release of the Walmingtonian sailors in their custody. And if the Indians also withdraw their combat units, the Ceylonese navy, Hossain promises, will begin its own rescue and recovery operations with its nearby vessels, which would no doubt be joined as soon as possible by British warships. The foreign minister also suggests that it might not be a bad idea to work out some kind of treaty codifying maritime law, so that this variety of international crisis might be more easily resolved in the future.

Diplomats in Sithin are sure to express the Republic's gratitude towards Spyr for their backing of the Ceylonese position. Though Ceylon does often take contrary positions in progintern debates, Spyr does amount, in the minds of Colombo's policy-makers at least, to the Republic of Ceylon's most important friend and backer on the international stage.

OOC: Not enough time to do a real IC post right now, but note that Hossein is probably talking to the junior minister for South Asia, which is Britain's no.2 person in the South Asia department... although well below to Hossein, he's not quite a flunky.

Indian Ocean

Vice Admiral William Hutt stood on the bridge of his flagship, staring out across the beautiful blue, sun-dappled waves of the Indian Ocean as the German elements joined his fleet. His Carrier Battle Group had made for blue water, and were speeding with all due haste southward, in order to come around the “horn” of the Subcontinent and move north into the tension zone. He was taking all possible precautions, while maintaining a fairly high speed, and had a full CAP up, but he knew that his arrival would spell complete change in the dynamics of the conflict, with the sudden influx of massive military might from far away USQ. The rather small but intense man of Scottish descent took a drag of his cigarette, concentrating on the horizon with pale blue eyes as though the answer was out there somewhere, and simply stayed the course. The news of Nueva España’s proclamations didn’t surprise him much, but as his ex-wife was Jamaican, he definitely took their threat to the Gulf of Mexico seriously, but that was the 2nd Fleet’s problem, under Vice-Admiral Highfield, not his. And in the end, what more than offer stupid proclamations about things they have no control over could they do? But, if push came to shove, he could do much. He looked over at the commander of his Marines, who had two amphibious landing docks along for the ride, with a lot of bored Marines, and just started to pray silently that he wouldn’t have to use them.

Walmington on Sea

Col. Wilson had express orders now, and he was desperately trying to follow them. He had pretty much come to the conclusion that o one wanted a shooting war, and was going to do what he could to ensure that didn’t happen, but also felt that the best way for that to not happen and to continue to not happen was to ensure military superiority on the part of the friendlies. So, he continued attempting to get an appointment with whomever would listen in the WoS government, in order to discuss what the USQ could do for them.

Washington, D.C.

Madame Prime Minister Lois King was looking at her assembled cabinet as they discussed the situation, not just the one in India, no, from her perspective the more important, and nonsensical one, the threats coming from BG. After hearing one of her junior secretaries blather on about moral responsibilities again for the third time, she finally announced, “Tim, Anthony, you need to pack your bags. Tim, I want you in Cassanos, I think it is time we worked more closely with our allies in developing a strategy of mutual defence of Free Europe. I want you to develop the plan in consultation with them, whatever it takes, get it done. Oh, and as Defence Minister, I want you to go out into the Rise Garden and make the announcement that we are going to DEFCON 3, and that our European elements are being placed on highest alert. I also want the 2nd and the 6th Fleet fully activated in less than 7 days, with ready elements placed on alert immediately.” The slight, thin, dark haired man’s eyes widened a little before he regained his composure and then he started to stand as his aides gathered his things.

Mrs. King took another sip of her precious, precious coffee and continued, “Anthony, as Foreign Minister, it is important that you get over to Walmington and take over Col. Wilson’s mission. But I first would like to send you to India, on an official visit. I want to know, as the pre-eminent power in the region, what they need, what they want, and what their take on the situation is. Take the Jesus-2.” The long haired, bearded tall man nodded sagely and rose himself to gather his things, brushing his aides aside, as his mind tried to process what he had been told to do.

Prime Minister King, who enjoyed stirring up her man-dominated cabinet a little once in awhile, allowed a brush of a smile onto her lips before she called the meeting to a close.

Soon after:

The Prime Minister’s Office:

To: The people and government of the Beddgelan Democratic Republic

The United States of Quinntonia condemns your actions of volatility and instability in the strongest possible terms. The massing of troops on your northern frontier is seen as a decidedly aggressive action, followed by acerbic and bellicose words coming from your leadership. Your threats do nothing but lead your nation into harm’s way. The some 420,000 Quinntonian troops that are stationed in Europe will not stand by and let you run rough-shod over the sovereignty of the nations you would have to move through in order to invade our friends and allies, the Federal Republic of Germany. They will fight to defend themselves and their smaller, weaker friends on their borders. And if Quinntonian blood must be spilled in defending the right to republican democracy in Europe, we will gladly lay down our lives. But rest assured, as you obviously prepare for combat operations, if you follow the route that you are indicating through your actions, the only logical end is the destruction and defeat of your political entity. We wish you and your people no ill will, and would gladly open talks to make for a more hospitable European environment, but any hostile action will be met in kind. Proverbs 20:2. May the Lord Jesus Christ bless you and keep you in His favour until the end. Amen.

WWJD
Amen.

Beddgelert, several hours previous

For Front Commander comrade Adiatorix, the possibility of open conflict with the bloc of the 1st World had come as a most welcome surprise. After clashing repeatedly with Graeme Igo's mob over the years, Adiatorix had hoped to benefit by the steady increase in Chivo's influence, which had been on-going for twenty years and as such was in parallel with the great warrior's own growth. But while Adiatorix had problems with Igo's social liberalism and over-bearing obsession with the science of the Socialist economy, he had been bitterly disappointed by Chivo, who's perceived growth of opposition to Igo Adiatorix had willfully misinterperated as agreement with his own hard militarist line against all anti-revolutionist forces. That, it seemed, couldn't have been much more erroneous, as Chivo put himself at the fore of moves to thaw relations with the British, Germans, and even the ever-meddling Spyrians.

The greatest warrior in Geletia had turned to drink -hardly unusual, often to be celebrated, but not when it dominated every waking hour- and become unpopular with his men as his temper worsened. After being accused of over-working his troops in relentless training operations and taking a total-war approach to matters of discipline, Adiatorix was voted out of his position as Commander of the top-profile Russia Front, where he'd previously lead one hundred thousand regular forces and had two hundred thousand reservists. Owing to the prevailing Igovist military system, wherein personnel bear no rank but are elected by their comrades to positions of responsibility for a particular task -such as Front Commander- defeat in the ballot put Adiatorix suddenly back on the same footing as any other rifleman, and cost him half of his regular income to boot.

It was only with great difficulty, and a move to the west, that Adiatorix was able once again to prove his unparalleled skill as a warrior, his courage, and his ferocious revolutionary fervour in order to restore faith -on the Austro-Slovak Front at least- in his once great reputation and see him restored as a Front Commander, even if he now had to make do with twenty-five thousand fewer men in his ready forces and half as many personnel in total.

When news of the confrontation in the Tamil Strait was broken in Beddgelert, it found Adiatorix close to the bottom of an already five-times filled Geletian wine bowl. The Indians were attacking Tamil Eelam? "Think they can try it on, eh? Like Fuscus they can! Signals! 'To arms!'" And so the seventy-five thousand regular and fifty thousand reserve troops of the Austro-Slovak -or 3rd- Front were sent running through the night with sirens blaring as their Commander staggered from his headquarters clutching a Dacian flax sword.

"Comrades! The hour is nigh! The imperial boar digs his tusks into our Soviet allies! I have told you to be ready, that we would be the first into action, that the Tsar and Caesar are spent forces next to the Anglo-Saxons, and it is their cronies who have struck first!..."

Akink, later

The British Minister for Europe found himself speaking to a comrade Braeden Apcarr, a man who, by the pace and force of his voice, could be estimated to be in the end-game of his life. Those particularly familiar with the early history of Geletian Communism would remember Apcarr as a cruelly eclipsed feature in the lead-up to Prince Llewellyn's overthrow more than a quarter of a century ago. Anyone better-read in contemporary politics in the BDR would understand him to share with Graeme Igo the leadership of the national government. While Apcarr was arguably senior, thanks to his responsibility to the whole body of the Democratic Alliance of Parties and Mass Organisations as Chairman of the Council of Ministers, Igo's claim to legitimate recognition as head of government was owing to his enduring role as General Secretary of the Central Committee of the dominant party there-in. Arguably, it didn't matter what the other organisations within the Council-filling Alliance said or did, since they couldn't over-power Igo's League of Communists.

...Not that any of them could get Chivo out of his Chairmanship of the Council of State, anyway.

The comrade Chairman of the Council of Ministers wheezed through his introduction as if neither he nor world peace were as close to the precipice as one might imagine them to be.

As Spader listened, Chivo was busy ordering the roll-out of the National People's Guard's new weapons and mulling over the value of a call to Ciudad Real, and Graeme was in the People's Chamber shaking a fist full of transcribed, "holier-than-thou condescension and unselfconscious hypocrisy from that other Rome across the Atlantic" and getting everyone into a frightful state of agitation and indignation. Even the Women's Democratic Federation and the League of Culture were getting irate and starting to think that, if this was the way of the world, then it really was past time to spread the revolution a little further. Everyone agreed that the Combat Groups of the Working Class should be activated in anticipation of an Anglo-Quinntonian assault to be supported by the mercenary Germans.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Chivtv/NS1/apcarrigo.jpg
Apcarr (left) seen with Graeme Igo

Tamil Eelam

While the Indian under-estimation of the Air Tigers may have been understandable -it was less than two years ago that the organisation first showed limited ground-attack capability, and its on-hand interceptors were MiG-21, a design that first flew over half a century ago in its earliest form-, it was fairly serious, since these weren't Fishbeds but Beddgelen Lancers, optimised for air-defence (these being delivered first as the threat from India had been -prophetically- deemed to be higher than that from Ceylon) and flown by highly trained Geletian pilots. The Spyrians weren't actually wrong to assume that the Lancers had illuminated the incoming Phantoms first, their radar suites and obvious threat of inbound multi-role fighters making that no surprise. But the fact that the Air Tigers currently had a grand total of two operational jetfighters meant that they were never going to be the ones to start a shooting war, and so they were initially flying to survive. Accordingly, they'd survived the first cautiously watched attack by activation of countermeasures and superior piloting of agile aircraft at considerable range, but now as they closed in, the Soviets' entire air-to-air combat capability was immediately on the line. The helicopter carrying a dying Tamil and eight Walmingtonian sailors was still rattling off gunfire against the Seakings that had attacked it, and everything below was going pear-shaped as the Sea Tigers struggled to call-in their craft and re-group to contest possible landing attempts.

Ashore, arms lockers were being flung open, and some in positions to know began to realise that these defences were not of National People's Guard in scale or spirit. The idea that an Anglo-Quinntonian-sponsored invasion by the Indian army might be already under-way had everybody utterly petrified, and Indomartus' assertion that, after 28,000 regular-ish military personnel, the masses of popular militia that could meet any such threat would bring the Commonwealth's number of active defenders up to a nice round hundred thousand was looking a bit wobbly.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v148/Chivtv/NS1/20060127002005401.jpg
Tamil Tigers rush to 'man' defences, many Soviet women are on the front line

[OOC I: I wrote this before BG posted, so assume that this posting's events take place at roughly the same time as those in his posting. The activation of the milita will produce another escalation, I fear.]

Indian Ocean

„We have reached our position, Herr Fregattenkapitän.“ The helmsman's call rang out over the bridge of the Bayern. „Good. Call the St. Paul and inform her that we begin our operations.“ Fregattenkapitän Dietrich Ehrlich did not need to give more detailed orders, his crew had been informed of their tasks while cooperating with the Quinntonian force beforehand, and it was nothing exceptional: Providing routine submarine cover for the huge carrier's battle group on the way to the seas around Ceylon, a mission the frigate was equipped and its crew was trained for.
Deciding what to do once the task force reached Indian or Tamil waters would be the hard part.
A cautious and deliberate man, captain Ehrlich had his crew train boarding, evacuation and other operations which might or might not have to be performed in the near future, as soon as he was informed to link up with the Quinntonian carrier group.
He was still trying to evaluate the situation which had caused him and his precious ship to cancel the planned excercises with the Quinntonians at Diego Garcia. His orders had been terse and to the point as to where to go, but had been less than specific about what was expected of him and his crew. „Possible extraction operations“ and „general sealine security“ were all that he had been given for now. Well, he had done his best to prepare for the road ahead, all the while hoping that none of the latest drills would be put to the test.
He had a feeling that all of his ship's advanced weaponry, her Evolved Sea Sparrow SAMs, the RBS-15 anti-ship-missiles, her guns, torpedoes and sonar systems would count less than diplomatic abilities and a cool head. Obviously, it was the lack of those which had led to the current crisis.
Sighing, he went down to the frigate's CIC to be briefed on the latest boarding drill, still wondering if Berlin was simply incompetent or if there were more pressing matters at hand, keeping him from being informed better.
Fregattenkapitän Dietrich Ehrlich was not sure which alternative he liked better.


Berlin/Warsaw

The news that the Quinntonians were about to announce DEFCON 2 for their European forces did nothing to reduce the frantic activity in Berlin, Warsaw and Potsdam, where German and Quinntonian civilians and military officers in ministries and the Allied European Command were still trying to make sense of the Geletian move.
So far, Akink had not answered both nations' urgent requests, which was strange. One theory was that these actions had not been authorized by the whole government, which would not make the situation any easier. Rogue generals seldom do.
Another theory, supported by many hardliners, went that this silence was one more puzzle piece, poiting to the unpleasant possibilty that Beddgelert's partial mobilisation was more than simple saber rattling.
The few still intact unofficial contacts between Beddgelert and allied officials were running hot as the search for answers went on. Hardly anyone in official Cassanos or Germany seriously thought that the Beddgellen propaganda about „anglo-quinntonian puppets“ was believed by many Geletians.
Another strange thing was that Beddgelert had immediately threatened Cassanos and Germany, which were not part of the British Empire, instead of, for example, the British bases on Cyprus or at Alexandria, thus dragging two more powerful countries in for good on its opponents' side.
They could not hope to win if they didn't side with the monarchists, and this was even much less likely than a sudden urge for bloody war. It remained to be hoped, especially for Beddgelert's relations to the allies, that this proved to be an unauthorised action by some general or minister, who could be expelled from service, or tarred and feathered, or crucified head down, or whatever communist Celts do with those who lose internal power struggles.

And now, it was too late to keep the Quinntonians from drastic measures, the mobilisation of their European forces escalated the crisis even further, but it would not do to publicly criticise this, especially if they proved right about the communists.
Thus, chancellor Ahler and prime minister Edelman agreed to keep talking to the Geletians (and keep hoping they would answer), while at the same time increasing their overall military readiness for the case that Beddgelert or Rome or Kiev tried anything stupid, as well as calling for restraint on the Quinntonian side quietly.
For now, both nations would not call in reserves or go to any condition higher than – comparably – DEFCON 3, so as not to alarm the public even more.

However, the Quinntonian increase in readiness had to be followed to some extent. Thus, air patrolling was increased, AWACS aircraft were routinely escorted by a pair of fighters each, and more long range SAM units in both countries were alarmed. The joint German/Cassanotian SAR Lupe-satellite system was in position and constantly monitoring Beddgelen air bases and ballistic missile units within range of allied territory.
Several strike aircraft wings and airmobile troops were quietly ordered to be ready for immediate mobilisation, the same orders went to the allied ground forces on the borders to the Czech Republic, Austria and Slovakia, just in case the Geletians were really planning to fight their way through these countries.
Though that appeared to be highly unlikely, so had a shooting war in the Indian Ocean over a Walmongtonian corvette.
Geletian troops were massing in Beddgelert's northwestern border regions, and if there was any possibility that German, Cassanotian or allied lives were threatened, the defences had to be manned and ready.

The arrival of the Quinntonian defence minister also had to be prepared, especially if he, as had been announced, wanted to finally coordinate a European defence organisation.
Frank Diercke, the German chancellor's chief of staff who had been working with the Angloquinntonian allies for a long time, was tasked by both governments to welcome the Quinntonian minister and organise his visit along with a binational staff. As the plans for a defence organisation had been drawn up in conferences before, it would at least not need to be a rash job.
Diercke made sure that, apart from his, the Cassanotian and the Quinntonian delegation, the British army and navy liaisons in Potsdam and Kiel as well as the commanding general of the British corps stationed in Brandenburg and Pomerania were be invited as well, as they had been before, to discuss a possible British participation in the future organisation.

Almost as an afterthought, the German/Cassanotian naval task force in Alexandria, which was scheduled to train with the British and Quinntonian forces there, was ordered to cease all current operations, return to port and stand ready for a possible deployment. If that would lead them north to the Geletian coast or south to India, no one could say at the moment.

[OOC II: We really ought to state the situation of the Czechs, Slovaks and Austrians. They are probably quite frightened, too, I suppose.]

[OOC III: The task force in Alexandria consists of one German Sachsen-class AAW frigate (FGS Hessen), one Cassanotian MEKO-class ASW-frigate (CNS Poznan, a support ship and a German LPD (FGS Friedrich Ebert) carrying helicopers, landing craft and a mixed battalion of German and Cassanotian marines. Just in case anyone wants to know.]

Berlin

The Minister for National Defence, Tim Schneider, was touching down, with very little sleep and his nerves more than a little jittery from the copious amounts of caffeine that had kept him awake for the almost 24 hours of constant briefings and debate about how this would look, and he had brought along with him, elements of the General Staff from the Pentagon, in order to make the negotiations more useful in the long run. Of course, he was more or less aware of the situation on the ground in BDR and TE as he landed, combed his, short, black hair, and put on a new, pressed suit, in order to attempt to not appear totally dishevelled on his visit to Germany. As a person of German descent, he was going to be quite comfortable doing these negotiations, as he spoke German quite fluently, though with a touch of an accent that he was hardly aware of, but would become apparent to a native speaker almost immediately. He leaned down to wash his face in the basin of the VIP jet, and then stared into the mirror, aghast at the bags under his eyes and the slight caffeine induced twitch on his face. “Oh well,” he thought, “it is just a matter of getting past the press and into the limo.” Though, one major thing was being done by encoded satellite phone immediately, the General Staff was giving orders to the Quinntonian Air Elements to report to the German Air Command and to take their lead directly from them until further notice. This was communicated to the Germans immediately, and shortly thereafter a heavily guarded courier appeared with a complete list of Quinntonian air assets to coordinate with. A first show of good faith.

Elsewhere

All across Europe and Quinntonia, leaves were being cancelled, troops were being put on stand-by and plane after plane after plane after plane full of troops were being flown into Germany, all those who were attached to the Army Groups involved, so that if trouble did come, they would be as close to the maximum strength as possible.

WWJD
Amen.

Rome

The mobilization of all the troops in Germany, Cassanos and the BDR was hard not to notice. Caesar Romulus watched the whole matter with great concern, seeing the chance that fighting could boil over and bring Rome into the war that seemed to be boiling toward the surface. A rather isolated incident had, through the globalization and freedom of information, broiled into an international crisis. Romulus stood in the largest, grandest conference room in the Palace of the Holy Citadel, gazing out on the rainy skies of a cool fall day. Behind him, his generals and diplomats thought that if they shouted their plans louder than the other that Caesar would favor them more.

“The Quinntonians have called back all their troops, they're sea fleets are mobilizing around us,” the Defense Advisor Imperator Titus Marius growled in fluent Latin, “Germans are mobilizing their troops, air patrols have become heavier than we've seen for a long time and to top it all off, the BDR are preparing their troops as well! Rome must respond in kind! We must place our legions on our borders, increase our naval patrols, mobilize the fleet! Brandish the weapons of the Maximus and the De Gaulle! Show the enemy the strength of our Actis and Mirage fighters! Let them know that we are not afraid of them!”

“And make an already tense situation even worse,” Senator Servius Equitius, the Caesar's Foreign Advisor, shot back, his Latin slightly slurred by a French accent, “if we mobilize then all Europe will be looking down the scope of a weapon and war will be almost unavoidable! We can't allow that to happen! We must make it clear that we do not want a war! We have to attempt to facilitate a kind of peace talks here! Make a demand for peace! We should contact the Germans, Cassanotians, Quinntonians and even the BDR and tell them that there is no need to go to war over this and that a peaceful solution must be reached!”

“And show our enemies, and the Russians, that we are weak,” Marius growled, “at a time when they need to see that our teeth are sharp and prepared!”

“Which will kill who knows how many people,” Equitius roared back, “we should not resort to such measures so quickly!”

“Should we even pay that much respect to these heretics and heathens,” Bishop Flavius Theocratis, the Advisor for Catholicism interjected, his Spanish shaping his pronunciation of the Latin tongue, “let the two of them fight and kill each other. In the end, God has chosen who will survive and that is Rome and the Catholic faith.”

Caesar Romulus turned from the window, killing the decibel level of the room completely. He approached his ornate red upholstered, mahogany chair and sat down at the finely crafted wood conference table. He looked at each of the members of the advisory council “Lucius,” he asked, addressing the Princeps Senatus Lucius Catulus, “what is your opinion? You have been silent in this whole affair.”

“I must disagree outright with Bishop Theocratis. We cannot just ignore this issue and hope they kill each other in the act. Whoever survives the struggle will be the stronger for it. I fear that that would weaken our position. Having said that, I side more with Equitius on this affair—“

“Aaah,” Marius growled with a wave of his hand.

“We must try to make a plea for peace. This will increase our reputation in the international community. No one wants a war, yet they will prime their weapons first before they meet at the bargaining table. Let us make a call for those parties to address each other in peace and organize a conference.”

“Yes,” Equitius quipped.

“Heathens and heretics on our holy soil? Outrageous,” Theocratis spat.

“Calm yourself, Bishop,” Lucius said, “it is unlikely that they will accept, yet the gesture will have massive appeal among the larger international community. And I have not forgotten about you Marius. In precaution, I suggest we increase our air patrols, ensure that none of the combatants take advantage of the situation and attempt to strike us while our attention is diverted. We must also ensure the safety of our shipping, so let us use our Regia Marina to patrol the Mediterranean all the more diligently. We should also ask ourselves who is the more dangerous enemy should a conflict ensue. Is it NATO, or the BDR?”

“Say all you want about them being heretics, Bishop,” Equitius began, “but NATO is more likely to show mercy in combat than the BDR.”

“Even with this weakness,” Marius continued, “we should not underestimate NATO's strength. They are a formidable opponent. Defeating them single handedly would be a great challenge.”

“We will remain neutral in this conflict,” Romulus stated, “we will make ourselves available to facilitate peace talks, and we will increase our patrols, but we will make no action that would considered hostile.”

“Yes, my lord,” the chorus rang from the group of advisors that sat around the large table.

Imperium Romanum

Shortly after the meeting, the Roman Empire sends out messages to Germany, Cassanos and the BDR, asking that they stand down and allow peace to prevail in this tense situation. Rome makes her services available to host some kind of peace talk in the grand city of Paris, Gaul at the Palace of Versaille. No one wants a war, yet with as high as they are, mistakes can be made and turned into the spark that turns into wild fire. Yet all three nations are told, and it is made much more clear in the message to the BDR, that any hostile action taken toward the Roman Empire would not be received kindly and would be responded to in kind.

Rome's early warning aircraft patrol the skies much more than usual, keeping an eye out on enemy skies. Enemy deployments are watched closely, particularly air bases close to the border and troop deployments close the Empire.

In the Mediterranean, Roman activity takes a dramatic upturn, especially at the Strait of Gibraltar where the De Gaulle usually makes her patrol, the single Western entrance to the Mediterranean Sea. While no ship coming through the strait would be impeded, especially those ships belonging the Quinntonian Navy, their entrances and exits would be marked and watched very closely.

Near Greece, where the Maximus prowls the Aegean, Roman vessels are not as courteous with ships from the BDR. Roman ships place the ships of the BDR under the sight of their guns and missiles, yet they make no other move to engage Soviet ships. As closely as ships are watched floating in and out of the Strait of Gibraltar, they are scrutinized here. Crews know every class, serial number and name of every ship that passes their sonar, radar or their sights. A vast degree of Rome's submarine fleet hunts in these waters, watching for BDR submarines attempting to pass through the area.

Hail Caesar!

Darwin, Australia

Rear Admiral Wilberforce's Australian Fleet was trickling in slowly, as ships and submarines alike made best speed for Port Darwin from their various patrols, training cruises and friendship missions. HMS Ark Royal, the small fleet's single carrier, was fully fueled and the last of her crew had just reported aboard. Unfortunately for Britain's force-projection ability in the Indian Ocean, the rest of the fleet was in no such state; most of the warships were low on fuel and supplies, and would have to be fully restocked before turning around to sail for the Indian Ocean.

In an attempt to speed turnaround times, the more distant of the fleet's units were ordered to put in at Singapore, restock there, and join up with the rest of the fleet in the Straits of Malacca. Though it would leave the Ark Royal without a fair bit of its frigate cover for the journey through the Java Sea, the three days that it would shave off response time was certainly worth it. However, considering the speed of events, there was little doubt that the situation would either be resolved or would have gone completely pear-shaped by the time the Australian Fleet reached the Palk Strait.

London

The United States's announcement was met with barely concealed anger by Britain's already tense foreign ministry. While the BDR's actions did necessitate a response of some kind, a total mobilization of the Quinntonian corps in Germany was almost certainly not the way to reduce tensions there, and could only bring Europe closer to war. In light of events around the globe, which had required an alarmingly minimal spark to send everyone rushing to the trenches, the movement of entire carrier groups and land armies to battle stations could only make things worse.

Desiring to make an impact in distant Washington, it was swiftly determined that not even Foreign Minister Lloyd had enough authority for the somewhat tense conversation that would have to ensue. Accordingly, when the phone rang in the White House, it was Strathairn himself on the line, demanding to speak with the Quinntonian prime minister. Initial attempts to connect him to anyone besides her would be met with the cold contempt that only the British could really muster.

"Madam King. I appreciate your attempts to mediate the Indian situation," he said when finally connected, though his voice carried little appreciation at all. "However, I do not believe that the addition of one of your carrier groups will do much to calm nerves in Tamil Eelam, and I require that you have them put in at Diego Garcia for the time being. Be assured that the British Empire is handling the situation effectively, and your government will be notified if we require assistance.

"Please understand," he continued before King could respond. "The situation in the Indian Ocean is extremely tense, as is the one in Germany. I do not believe, and my staff assures me that this is correct, that increased military pressure will have the desired effect."

* * *

"Comrade Apcarr," Spader said hurriedly. "I think the time for saber rattling is well past. Things are much, much too tense for the sort of rhetoric that is emanating from your government at the moment." He took a deep breath. "Look, official British policy is to mobilize our corps in Germany if the BDR threatens either Germany or Cassanos, but we aren't going to do that. I can't speak for the USQ, but I can talk to you. You have got to reign Aidatorix in... this isn't a threat, this is just a statement of fact. If you don't... look, the Quinntonians don't know what the hell is going on, they're scared by what they're seeing, and their usual response to this sort of thing is to throw carrier groups at it. It's stupid and dangerous, but we can't do anything about it. Your government has got to back down, because the Quinntonians won't. They're too reckless and too powerful, and they don't understand the intricacies of the situation. Do you understand?"

You have got to reign Aidatorix in... this isn't a threat, this is just a statement of fact. If you don't... look, the Quinntonians don't know what the hell is going on, they're scared by what they're seeing, and their usual response to this sort of thing is to throw carrier groups at it. It's stupid and dangerous, but we can't do anything about it. Your government has got to back down, because the Quinntonians won't. They're too reckless and too powerful, and they don't understand the intricacies of the situation. Do you understand?"

OOC-I love it! That is by far the best reaction I oculd have ever gotten. Fascinating. So funny. Thank you so much, Gurg, you add something wonderful to the mix. I don't know which I like better, "...and their usual response to this sort of thing is to throw carrier groups at it." or "They're too reckless and too powerful, and they don't understand the intricacies of the situation. Do you understand?" That is awesome.

IC-
Washington

When Strathairn called, he found himself in a long battle with the various voices that occupied the Quinntonian end of the line for more than an hour prior to finally being allowed access to Prime Minister King. “Oh your staff doesn’t believe that this will help, well then, that settles it. Listen, Mr. Strathairn, I am a little too old to be scolded, sir, but out of respect for your reputation as a statesman, and your vested interest in the matter, I will defer to your wisdom. I am going to continue to hold my global military presence at DEFCON 3, and I am going to be ready to fight in Europe should I need to, by sea, land, and air, but rest assured that we will take your lead in the Indian situation in all things. The CBG St. Paul will be ordered to go no farther than the Maldives, and I will even up your standings worldwide by publicly stating that this decision to stay out of this matter unless absolutely needed was on your, my good and personal friends’ advice. Further, I will give you my solemn word that Quinntonian military elements in Europe will act only defensively for the protection of the sovereignty of our friends and allies being threatened by this, may I say, unprovoked aggression on the part of the BDR. Is that enough for to placate your delicate sensibilities?” Mrs. King took a sip of a delicious Mexican blend from her steaming mug and then continued, as icily as she could muster, “Now, how is your wife?”


WWJD
Amen.

Oh BTW, apperently, I had been using the DEFCON rating backwards. So, when I said DEFCON 2, I really meant DEFCON 4. So, yeah. My bad.

[OOC: Phew, I was worried about that. DEFCON 2 would be... Rather... Impressive?]

[OOC: Phew, I was worried about that. DEFCON 2 would be... Rather... Impressive?]

Yeah. I knew that too, I don't know what happened, in my typing I just translated it to the oppsoite end of the spectrum. Sigh. Well, maybe we will just assume I was over-reacting at DEFCON 3? Yeah. That would make the responses I receieved a little more reasonable at my unreasonableness.

There fixed the above posts.

The two Sea Kings broke and ran, fleeing at right angles to one another and dropping almost into the water to escape the spray of 23mm projectiles being fired at the IAB 300 Helicopter that was now returning fire, the Walmingtonian Prisoners aboard apparently unable to comandeer the helicopter, a rake of 23mm munitions struck the tail boom of one of the Sea Kings which dropped even faster than its compatriot, nearly dunking the still winched down Para-rescueman into the sea as he grappled to hold onto the last of the survivors that could be seen. Smoke poured from the holes in the tail boom, and from the exhaust manifolds of the helicopters as they laid smoke in an attempt to further the bid to escape, hopefully the pilot would not pursue them while he had a badly wounded gunner aboard.

The remaining 8 Phantoms of the squadron were now fueled and armed for air superiority and started to take off with emergeancy style spacings, risking being lost to turbulence from the previous aircraft in a bid to assist there comrades over the Palk strait immediately.

The MiGs had somehow managed to escape the Skyflash missiles and had returned fire with a probably Beddgellertian supplied ASRAAM.... so the Phantoms sortied AIM-132s, two each, and turned away, lighting afterburners and dropping countermeasures, however one of the missiles got through regardless, exploding against the tail of the Phantom and spraying fragments into the backs of the Rolls Royce Spey Turbofans, stopping one and causing oil to leak for the other..... That fighter abruptly stopped maneuvring and settled into a subsonic cause towards the closest base with a runway capable of taking it.... the base from which the helicopters had launched.
The other three turned once again and returned to the combat area, illuminating the MiG-21s with radar and launching another Skyflash missile for a total of three. This meant there were now 11 missiles tracking the lonely pair of MiGs. They could either run and attempt to evade teh weapons or they could stay and die. It was up to them.

Akink

After early reports indicated that the US military had changed its callsigns and was preparing for immediate combat had lent massive support to Adiatorix's clearly defensive measures, the climb-down from a warlike defence-condition lent much weight to the cases of those inclined to back talks with London and other authorities.

In fact, on the tail of US climb-downs came the retreat of numerous Beddgelen rocket units from the Austro-Slovak fronts, and the retreat to much more defensive patrols of Geletian fighter aircraft and warships.

The Roman activation, late as it had been, was narrowly voted to have been reactive rather than part of a grand Feudal-Capitalist axis against the left-bloc, and so the 4th Front, facing Greece and elsewhere, was not significantly mobilised. Given that the Geletians usually put men in the field when Rome turned its head east to sneeze, this was obviously a significant inaction. The BDR could have had 75,000 men in main-land Greece by now if it wanted to, but had not moved a man.

On the phone...

Speaking to Spader for the first time directly, Braeden Apcarr was somewhat uneasy. He was leader of the GCP through the late 1970s and early 1980s, but had been fumbling in the dark since the Revolution, and was now unlikely to get on with any Englishman who wasn't either A)Tony Benn, or B) Enthusiastically Bennite. The US is scared and doesn't know what it's doing? So he heard, "That's what scares us!" he replied!

"But, this aggression in India, it isn't backed by London or Washington? Can I cite you to that effect?"

It was a worrying truth that possibly the only nation really close to accurately reading the Beddgelen reaction was Spyr, a state hardly likely to be directly involved in the current crisis, and one not much inclined to bail-out the Geletians with a sober explanation of their motivation. But, so far as Akink could see, Walmington, Britain, India, the US, and by extension their Germano-Cassanotian allies, were in the middle of an attack on international Igovianism. That was why European forces had mobilised. It wasn't a matter of calling anyone back. Wasn't the 1st World in the middle of an assault on Tamil Eelam? So as to further isolate the BDR?

"That is what we see." Said Braeden. "Are you not coming? Or are you not in charge of your supposed subordinates? Are they rogue? Should we consider Delhi a rogue agent, fit for the assassin's blade?"

At this point Britons could hardly fail to remember the numerous Beddgelen defectors who had been assassinated on British soil by GSIC. Umbrella-launched atomic poisons were the least of it, after all.

Tamil Strait

The IAG-330 had little choice but to withdraw, the Indians were quite right. On its day, this helicopter could easily have downed both Seakings, but the fact that the door-gunner was fast bleeding-out and the pilot was a long-term friend meant that the machine was soon turning for home.

If he'd known that his comrade was dead, the pilot would almost certainly have chased-down and destroyed both Indian Seakings, but the young Walmingtonian medic kept up the pretence rather well, attemtping to reanimate an expired Communist, or at least looking like he was trying to do so.

The two Lancer-Cs had equally little choice but to peel off, and only one made it out. As one of the two MiGs hit the water, the first Geletian to be killed in combat since 1989, and the first killed by foreign action since 1945, met his heroic end.

Akink was seconds from declaring war on British India.

Akink

After early reports indicated that the US military had changed its callsigns and was preparing for immediate combat had lent massive support to Adiatorix's clearly defensive measures, the climb-down from a warlike defence-condition lent much weight to the cases of those inclined to back talks with London and other authorities.

In fact, on the tail of US climb-downs came the retreat of numerous Beddgelen rocket units from the Austro-Slovak fronts, and the retreat to much more defensive patrols of Geletian fighter aircraft and warships.


Just FYI, there was no climb-down, the change of DEFCON were just my mistake, it had been placed on DEFCON 3, and continues to be on DECON three, with purely defensive mobilisations for all of its European troops, and a distinctly mirroring effect of its movements, mirroring Gelletian movements.

The ships are still being put to sea, the only major change was that the CBG St. Paul was now stopping at the Maldives.

(OOC: I dunno, it's a bit late. Half the thread's based on a Geletian perception of the 1st world preparing for war, partly on the assumption that the US was on DEFCON 2. Obviously somebody messed up IC, and since it was you OOC... ;) )

No, it wasn't an IC mistake, it was definately an OOC mistake. It still makes perfect sense, as call signs are being changed, all transmitions are going to code, something like three CBG's are involved, and more than 400,000 troops are being mobilised in Europe, I think your reaction that we are preparing for war, even at DEFCON 3, makes perfect sense. Especially given the very limited amount of times historically that we have gone that high. I don't think you need to change anything.

But if there is a climb down being proclaimed, it would be the now very public intervention by the British MP who begged the St. Paul not to get involved in TE. Again, I don;t think anything needed to be changed.

And further, even at DEFCON 2, the mobilisations that occured in Europe would have been no different.

So, even your last point doesn;t particlarly need changing, as long as it is understood in those terms.

Kiev - Kievskaya Rus
Mikhailhof (Mikhail's court, the capital building of the Kieven throne, known in the western world as the summer palace)

"All rise!"
Prince Vadim stood dressed in the blue uniform of the Tsar's seneschal, the official spokesman and personal assistant of the Tsar. Scanning the assembly he nodded in approval at the gathering of lords before him. The Tsar had called an emergency meeting of the Boyar Duma and then been so kind as to not attend leaving the proceedings in the hands of Prince Vadim.
"Countrymen!" he spoke loudly, standing far from the microphone and blasting his words out at the top of his voice. "His majesty Tsar Pyotr, may he live for ever, demands your allegiance! "
The assembled crowd of lords all bowed by only a simple head nod held down for a second. Had his majesty been there it would have been down on one knee, but to his seneschal a simple head nod was all that was expected.
"Be seated. Please refer to item 3829 on the agenda you were provided: Hostile actions by the Gelletians and mobilization of Quinntonian and allied forces in Europe and the southern seas. His highness now opens his ear to your humble advice" The many in the assembly glared in resentment to the Prince in annoyance as he revelled in his responsibly to stand in the stead of his highness.
A man in black western styled suite with a long pointed moustache stood to speak, "As stated in the notes on item 3829, the Caesar in Rome has taken a neutral stance and offered to be a mediator. I say his Highness ought consider staying silent until such time as the this mediation has proven ineffective, If hostility continues..." "If hostility what!?" shouted a short podgy man with a long brown beard shouted before the speaker could finish. "Be as slow as ever to act! that may have be the way you" (he pointed at the man) " did things under that impotent wimp Yevgeny but I thought we had learned our lesson!" A chorus of cheers went up. "I suggest we take action now! We can't allow the United States to think they can just march all over Europe as if they own the place and we can't allow Akink to spread it's socialist filth beyond it's current walls. I say, and should his majesty agree, that we advise lady King to stand down and we finally man up to the job and take out comrade Chivo our selves." The hall echoed with applause and cheers. Prince Vadim grinned, it was unlikely the Tsar would go for this, in his two year reign he had yet to so much shake his fist at the USQ but maybe this would stir him up, that is if he could be pulled away from own social life long enough to run the country. The debate continued for most of that after noon but the message from the Boyers was overwhelmingly that they supported a very quick and aggressive move against the BDR and a relatively hard line stance against continued Quinntonian mobilization in Europe. As for the Tamil Strait, no one really minded a war between Beddgelert and India.

The Palk Strait

With both Indian and Tamil helicopters gone from the area, NRC Garuda is finally able to move in and attempt to rescue further Walmingtonian survivors, Fonseca hoping that the Tamils haven't decided to rescind permission for his ship to enter their territorial waters. Scrambling nets are thrown over the side and Ceylonese sailors man the rails, on the lookout for anyone else who might have lived through the sinking, or any recoverable bodies. Fonseca, and indeed the Ceylonese crew as a whole, spends no small amount of time cursing both the Indians and the Tamils for their short tempers and their trigger-happiness, while radar operators watch their scopes tensely for signs of aircraft or warships incoming from the mainland. If the Indians and the Tamils get themselves into a proper war, few Ceylonese expect India to make much of a distinction between the Republic and Tamil Eelam, both of which are antagonistic towards the viceregal authorities. And conversely, it is certainly conceivable that a Tamil torpedo boat, perhaps not informed of Garuda's presence, might make an attack.

As an added precaution, a four-ship flight of Ceylonese Tornado interceptors takes-up station in international airspace nearby, hoping to discourage further sorties on the part of either belligerent. Ceylon's airforce, though very small next to India's, is modern and well-trained, and no doubt the Aeronautica Militar's CSP-upgraded Tornado ADVs are among the more advanced combat aircraft operating in the region.

Ceylon

Officials in Colombo are, needless to say, extremely upset over the recent turn of events, which, in light of the unfolding crisis in Europe, make Ceylon's offer to help broker peace between India and Tamil Eelam look rather silly. Then again, the whole affair is somewhat surprising and a little funny. Who would expect, after all, that the accidental sinking of a corvette from among the most inoffensive of states, on peaceful business, in the Palk Strait would lead to mass mobilizations and warlike posturing among the major powers in Europe? Certainly not the Ceylonese foreign ministry, but then again Colombo tends to underestimate the link between Trincomalee and Akink on a fairly regular basis.

Tamil mobilization, not surprisingly, triggers a similar reaction on the Republic's part. Reservists are called-up, and AMC Tornados, operating from dispersed airfields, conduct round-the-clock CAP over Ceylon, watching for any sign of an impending Indian airstrike with their Foxhunter radars. Authorities in Colombo, though, are not, not by any means, about to cast the first stone in this matter, and high hopes remain for a peaceful settlement, the likes of which Ceylon is still quite keen to assist with.

[OOC: I don't have much time at the moment, however, to prevent any further misunderstandings:

As of now, there is a total of 8-10 fully armed interceptors (Eurofighters, MiG-29s and F-15s, probably) and 2-3 AWACS aircraft (each escorted by a pair of interceptors as well) patrolling the airspace over southeastern Germany and southern Cassanos 24 hours a day, with further interceptors on QRA.
Allied long-range air defence units, equipped with Patriot PAC-2 and PAC-3 and S-300 missiles in mentioned areas are activated as well, and some army units in these areas are on alert as well.
However, no strike aircraft or troops positioned on the borders with Rome or Kiev are on higher alert, this includes the Quinntonian units subordinate to the GER/CAS military.
All this is made clear, all these measures are purely defensive against a possible Beddgelen strike by aircraft and missiles, as one can see.
No depots are emptied and reservists stay at home for now.

This does not mean that the allies have their breeches down, but it is obvious that they are not planning any aggressive actions at the moment, and, again, this includes all Quinntonian assets under allied command.
Allied units are, comparably, on DEFCON 4, some aforementioned units on DEFCON 3. [/OOC]

Sithin, PRS

Quinntonian reaction to events in the Palk Strait piqued much interest within the Party Committee on Public Safety, Spyr's intelligence apparatus. The major players amongst the Bedgellens, and their motives for escalating conflict, were well understood. The same could be said about figures in Delhi, though it appeared Public Safety had overestimated the effectiveness of London-imposed restraint there. But the matter of who would benefit from escalation in Washington were less clear... provoking the Bedgellens would only widen rifts amongst those nations threatened by the feudal powers, and would thus be expected from the USQ's Rome-leaning Roman Catholic League rather than PM King's Pan-Christians. Perhaps, it was thought, the Quinntonian prime minister and her young party worried that restraint would be decried as foreign-policy weakness by domestic opponents, or perhaps hardline elements within the PCA were making a push to gain control of the government agenda. It was a matter that would certainly require further analysis.

Whatever concerns are raised in Spyr over Quinntonian movements are laid to rest by the responses in London and Berlin... the German decision to hold back from full mobilization and assume a defensive posture, and the halt of USQ carriers enroute to the Palk Strait at the request of the British prime minister showed that reasonable minds still prevailed over hot heads in the West, underlining the wisdom of the Popular Front (and securing Party conservatives against domestic radicals).

Wether restraint here would lead to peaceful resolution, however, remained to be seen... it was not at all certain that the BDR or its Tamil puppets would respond in kind.

Palk Strait

With an air battle raging over their heads, most of the Walmingtonians still in the water were by now assuming that war had been declared in the moments before they were attacked, and were much relieved to see Garuda's presumably friendly colours. After so long floundering, most were exhausted and had to be hauled from the water as little more than dead weight.

Sixteen hands were left for the Ceylonese to recover after eight were snatched away by the Soviet helicopter, from a compliment of forty-two.

Walmington on Sea

Unsure whether the world was about to let the situation fade into history or start a third world war, the tiny Dominion, even if it wasn't aiming at the latter possibility, was committed to making sure that the former didn't come to pass before time. The Home Guard was already in near total mobilisation, hundreds of Lee-Enfield rifles dusted off and oiled after decades in storage, and the little ports dotted around the island were cluttered with merchantmen, ferries, cruise ships, and trawlers under-going wartime refits. Reports indicated that Walmingtonian lives had been lost and that more mariners were in Soviet hands, and for all anybody knew either category could include no less a man than an Admiral of the Royal Walmingtonian Navy.

What Walmington could do about it may be in question, but the mobilisation of several thousand uniformed personnel two miles from the English coast would surely stand as a statement of Walmingtonian severity in the matter. The government also confirmed that the RWN would like to take receipt of up to five decommissioned Island Class OPVs from Britain.

SOURCE: CENTCOM, NEW DELHI
DESTINATION: CMDR, 12 GROUP, RIAF, MADRAS CMD
COMMENCE OPERATION: TAMIL DUSK
BOMBER STRK BY FORCES OF 13 GROUP BEGINNING AT FIFTEEN TEN
GOOD LUCK
BREAKBREAK


Bomber Strike Force, over Indian Ocean, approaching Tamil Coastline
Nearly forty bombers flew in formation from the Heavy Bombing Wing based outside of New Delhi, the ridiculous range of the upgraded Canberra B.65 allowing the elderly airframes to carry maximum bombload out to a radius of nearly two and a half thousand kilometres, which was precisely what they were doing now, however there escorts were not quite so fortunate, the newly arrived Tornadoes following them as part of there hopping trip to get to the airbases of 12 Group, which was a rather underfunded formation with only two squadrons of elderly F-4Ms (soon to be confined purely to ground attack missions) and one of new Low Cost (AMRAAM-equipped) Hawk 200 "Air Superiority" fighters.
But now many of the elite squadrons were being transferred, atleast temporarily, from the Pakistani and Burmese fronts, moving to support the underarmed formation, which had never been expected to fight a full scale war, as there use of the oldest equipment of the RIAF showed.
Soon the complement would be bolstered with three squadrons of "new" Tornado ADVs purchased second hand from the Royal Air Force and a brand new squadron of Typhoons, which was indeed brand new, the creme of the crop of the RIAF. Many questioned the need for the assemblage of such a vast proportion of the elite air superiority capability of the RIAF, especially when the air war would probably amount to dropping bombs.
An E-3D had even been released from the airbases in Assam, flying south in a long winded dogleg flight path to join the massive assemblage of aerial firepower now preparing to sweep the tamils off the map.

But regardless, the situation as it stood now was 40 or so bombers moving relatively slowly towards the Tamil Eelam, with a dozen Tornado F.3s formed up around them.
At approximately fifty miles out, within the reach of the air search radars the communists had been equipped with, but beyond the effective range of any of there SAM systems, especially at the high flight level, especially with the jamming packages that had been fitted into the Canberras during the last refit, the lead eight bombers released a pair of Popeye missiles, targetted at 16 different air defence radar and missile sights that had paintakingly located in Tamil Eelam over the past years from allied satellite data.
The bombers continued on course, the Tornado pilot wearingly examining the screen of his foxhunter radar.

Elsewhere in India
Many evening commuters found that they could not board any trains in any of the major terminus' as almost all fast trains had been requisitioned for troop duty, allowing several infantry divisions to start moving south, alongside the mobilisation of the militia in the Palk straight area, there would be soon be several hundred thousand soldiers massed on the Indian side, waiting for the next Tamil move.

Motorcade Driving through the streets of New Delhi
The viceroy put down his knife and fork, took up his finely wrought China... mug, and turned to his aide, "Have you still got Edmonson on the phone?"
The aide, nodded, smiling nastily and spoke into the handset in his hand, "Mr Keefe, the Viceroy" he spoke solemnly into the phone before handing it to across the car to the Viceroy, who took it and spoke two words in his impossibly perfect Cambridge english, "Good evening"

The Igovian Soviet Commonwealth of Tamil Eelam

Early warning radar had only just detected the incoming Indian aircraft and begun relaying data through the defence organisation when the Canberras began their attack. The sole remaining operational Lancer was quickly scrambled, but with its Geletian pilot sleeping off his last operation, the closest pilot was his twenty-one year old Tamil protégé, who had run out to the aircraft pulling on his flight suit as he went before there was any question of the Beddgelen being roused and brought back to the airstrip.

The whole nation woke to the sounds of sirens and explosions as the missiles came in. Tamil Eelam didn't have sixteen air defence installations, but since the missiles were being targetted primarily off satellite data, they still found plenty of targets. Still, the fact that more than half a dozen dummy facilities were blown-up didn't save what few radar and missile facilities were genuine, nor the four citizens who were killed in the attack.

Over Jaffna, Fighter-Pilot Pragasam armed his infra-red guided air-to-air missiles and 23mm gunpack, catching site of a smoke plume rising from the city's outskirts. With his friends and family living in the city below, Pragasam had no thoughts of backing down.

Below, the ground forces continued their mobilisation, bicycle infantry deploying to defensive positions, light artillery and optically-directed air-defence guns being uncovered, the biggest being Beddgelen 76mm automatic pieces.

OOC-I was just wondering if I could get some responses, when people have some time.

WoS: Col. Wilson trying to talk to you about offers of assistance on the table, and new offers about to be put on.

Spizania: Foriegn Minister Anthony Sterr soon to be landing in your capitol city in Jesus-2 on an official state visit, to discuss the current situation, on his way to Southern Ceylon.

Cassanos: Defence Minister Tim Schneider touching down in Germany to begin discussion about integrated European defences.

Not that I have a tonne of time, finishing off everything for this semester, but am quite interested in getting some kind of responses.

Whitehall

+++Keefe, just about at his wits' end, was surprised with the rapidity at which he was delivered to the viceroy's ear. It took him a moment to school his thoughts, during which he reflected that it was almost certain, from the speed of the transfer when, in fact, it came, that he was being given the runaround by the Viceroy's staff.
+++Almost simultaneously to his telephone audience with the viceroy, he received a terse note informing him that a squadron or so of Canberras had begun bombing operations on targets in Tamil Eelam. This bit of news, arriving on top of his transference to the viceroy, almost made him trip up in his speech.
+++"Sir Leonard, thank you for agreeing to speak with me." Keefe resisted the urge to add "finally". "Clearly, the situation in the Palk Strait concerns all of Her Majesty's subjects, and I think it is in our immediate interest to co-operate here." His words were spoken calmly and in a measured tone, with a tinge of friendliness. The introductions out of the way, he let a bit of irritation color his voice. "However, I am obliged to protest the fact that so much has been allowed to occur–I have just received word, for example, that the RIAF has engaged ground targets in Tamil Eelam–without informing us of your plans." He breathed for an instant, but not long enough to allow the viceroy to interrupt him. "Now, I understand and sympathize with both the speed of events and the desire to defend Her Majesty's subjects, but I would hope that we may discuss further moves before the situation is allowed to escalate irretrievably."

Palk Strait

+++HMS Stuart arrived too late, and was suddenly in rather more exposed a position than was really wise. Savige, commanding the watch from bridge rather than leaving the situation to the current OOD, did not hesitate before signaling general quarters. As the alarms began to ring out and the ambient lights in the corridor outside began to die, Savige pursed his lips and inspected the radar plot.
+++The Air Search radar was going crazy, depicting dozens of blips overflying the strait. IFF codes identified them as Indian, so the frigate's extensive countermeasures suite remained dormant as they passed. However, by all reports Tamil Eelam still possessed a navy, and there was no reason to assume that said navy would differentiate between British and Indian warships while their nation was bombed.
+++"Officer of the Deck," Savige said, addressing the lieutenant whose rotation as OOD it was. "Initiate breakaway evolution, set course north-northeast." The lieutenant repeated the order crisply to the helmsman, but Savige was deaf to it. By long practice, the captain's attention had translated fully to his sonar officer. "Sonar, what position do you have for HMS Barrie?" The sonarman had the information readily at hand, as he was expected to in such situations.
+++"She is at communications depth, south-southeast of us and cruising at fifteen knots. Projected course–"
+++"Never mind," Savige cut him off. "COMM, signal Morncreek to disengage and report status in fifteen minutes." Savige pursed his lips. That should deal with Her Majesty's British military commitments in the area, and assuming the Tamils didn't attempt any sort of suicide cruise, there was almost no chance that a British warship would take a hit. He sighed and watched the plot change to reflect Stuart's course change. Whatever happened, it was no concern of his.

Having avoided entering any position thus far the Dominion of China continues to sit on the sidelines for now. Guangzhou is not keen to enter any sort of international conflict with the P.R China constantly issuing military threats - there was no appetite to send military forces anywhere.

That said, Guangzhou is worried about the spectre of increasing communist insurgency in other theatres and quietly sends a communique to London enquiring on the situation.

[OOC: Actually can someone brief me? I've been away too long]

(OOC: Short version: In a case of mistaken identity, the LTTE have sunk a Walmingtonian corvette and captured an Admiral. India has opened fire on Tamil forces and now launched a bomber raid. Beddgelert and Tamil Eelam fear a climactic confrontation between Capitalist and Communist, and being badly out-numbered are rushing to arms and disbelieving of British and other claims to ignorance of the Indians' plans. At least five Tamils and a Geletian have been killed by India, and eight Walmingtonians captured by Tamil Eelam.

Long version:
A Walmingtonian corvette on a friendship tour of India and Ceylon and suffering problems with its propulsion, then navigation, then communications, wandered into Tamil waters in the Palk/Tamil Strait and failed to respond to a series of increasingly severe warnings from the Sea Tigers, until it was -still unidentified- bearing down on the tightly restricted region of Kankesanthurai, where the LTTE were secretly preparing materials for another mission into the mainland to support the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Nadu. Assuming that it could be the start of an Indian raid and lacking comprehensive ship-to-shore and real-time nationwide communications, local commanders fell back on their standing orders and torpedoed the corvette, which turned out to be HMWS Dame Mavis, breaking her in two and putting 42 Walmingtonians including an Admiral in the drink.

Since then, reactions by the Indians and Quinntonians in particular have lead many in Trincomalee and Akink to believe that The Final Conflict between Communism and Capitalism expected in Igovian dogma was being initiated, and Tamil Eelam about to be invaded. Adiatorix, A Front Commander in Beddgelert (there are no ranks in Igovian militaries, just job descriptions), took the view that said Final Conflict would hardly exclude the BDR, and mobilised forces under his command, and since it seems that nobody but perhaps the Spyrians really understands much of the Beddgelen/Igovian mindset, that has been taken as perhaps aggression linked to perceived Tamil aggression, and Washington and Akink are somewhat squared up to one another.

As the Igovians regard the actions of India as part of a struggle between semi coherent Capitalist and Communist blocs, they are having trouble believing Britain's claims of ignorance as India launches a major bombing raid against Tamil Eelam. Akink is bound to defend Trincomalee, but can't really reach India in a meaningful fashion, and so has put its Eurocentric rocket and bomber forces on alert ready to fight India's cohorts in the Final Conflict.)

*prods*

*wiggle*

Potsdam, Federal Republic of Germany

The rather special delivery by the Quinntonian courier took some time to get sorted out, since the German-Cassanotian air force staffers at the Joint Forces HQ, who had controlled some 1,000 airplanes so far, now had their hands full of a seemingly endless supply of Quinntonian air assets.
The Quinntonian liasons in Potsdam were immediately called for to help with this gargantuan effort.
As a first measure, it was ensured that every allied wing and squadron was relayed the latest set of radio frequencies, callsigns and planned operations.
It was decided that, for the moment, no significant change in deployments or readiness was to take place, since all current tasks could be fulfilled by the assets already in place. Special care was taken ensuring that no strategic, nuclear-capable bombers were moved, so as not to disturb the fragile situation in Europe any further.
However, the allied staff used what time they had to set up a chain of command and coordinate the cooperation of allied units to ensure as smooth a course of operations as possible.
Long years of joint excercises and cooperation helped a lot, especially since most staffers were on a first name basis with their Quinntonian counterparts already.

Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany

Airport Berlin-Tegel
As soon as he left the plane, Secretary Schneider was welcomed by Frank Diercke, the Chancellor's chief of staff, Peter Hauenstein, the German minister of defence, and Joszef Schimanski, the Cassanotian military attaché to Berlin, accompanied by the usual horde of staffers, translators, and bodyguards.
While the Jesus-2 taxied into a separate hanger, well guarded by German police personnel, Diercke stepped forward and shook the Quinntonian's hand. “Secretary Schneider“, he began in fluent English with the hint of an Oxford accent, „in the name of chancellor
Ahler, let me welcome you to Berlin. We have provided suitable accomodations for you and your staff, in case you want to rest a little before we get to work. As planned, we have set the first meeting at 5 p.m., when the Cassanotian minister of defence will join us. We will have an impressive amount of work to do, but first things first: How is your family?“

Bundeskanzleramt
“Alright, Schneider should have arrived by now. I will try to attend the meetings today, or tomorrow . However, we finally need to form a position on the Roman proposal. What do you think, Albert, is it a rouse? Or are they serious about this whole “let us bring you peace“-thing?“
Foreign minister Albert Fischer cleared his throat. „Jo, it's hard to tell. The most likely interpretation is that the Romans don't want a war to mess up their economical interests, and that they think they can gain some additional prestige. If we accept, we show that we need outside help, and monarchist help at that, to solve our own problems. If we don't accept, and things go down the tubes, they can brag about how big peace-lovers they are, who desperately tried to prevent a war. Any way, they have a free advantage. Still, we need to think about their offer, however, as an opponent to us and the Geletians, they are not the most likely choice for facilitating peace talks between us. Scandinavia, yes, or Switzerland, but Rome?
Besides, they seem to be in the mood for these things, inviting us to Versailles for negotiatons while planning to host a huge blue-blooded convention at the same place some time soon.“
“Yes, yes, we went over this already, but what is your advice?“ Ahler was beginning to feel frustrated. Even more frustrated, and that was not an easy thing.
“I was coming to that. I have talked with my Cassanotian counterpart, and we agreed that it is best, for now, to do nothing. We should not risk losing our face for the rest of the world by rebuking them, but should, in polite but cool terms, state that at the moment, we are well in control of the situation and, while grateful for their offer, see no need for a large conference right now. With the usual diplomatic babble, of course.“
Ahler reflected once again on this oddity of a diplomat – how this well-spoken, friendly and calm man with more grey than black streaks in his hair could sometimes, privately, talk like the unshaved, lofty student he had been som many years before.

We still need some position for the Austrians, Czechs and Slovaks, don't we? Oh, and Gurg: Will your liasons attend the GER/CAS/USQ-meetings? Will you plan to get them involved in a European defence organisation or rather just have them remain observers for now?

((OOC: Q, Wilson already has regular access to both Prime Minister Beauregard Rain and Governor Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne, as stated on the first page of the thread some time before he started 'desperately trying to get an appointment' ; ) ))

Southend, Walmington

In the capital, the PM had decided to concentrate on dealing with the British, Indians, and Communists, leaving the Dominion's Governor General to deal with this insufferable colonial as he had taken to calling the Quinntonian Colonel after his umpteenth call had interrupted a vital strategic elevenses.

The sea air and the cries of the gulls mixed with the sounds and smells attendant to Sir Henry's opening of a second can of Walmingtonian bitter as he awaited the arrival of this Wilson fellow. The day was somewhat blustery and a touch overcast, but Sir Henry would be damned if he was moving from his favourite seat outside Anne's Pantry, one of the nation's finer establishments for those who wanted to eat or drink in the right place and manner. The fact that the Governor was pouring his ale from a can was no more unusual than the fact that such an important person could sit by the roadside without any sort of protection without feeling worried that he'd be threatened or even pestered. Walmington has invented the beer can and, like not-bothering-people, turned it into a national art form.

Sir Henry toyed with his considerable moustache between gulps, and wondered at his chances for a bit of a coup.

Berlin

Pastor Schneider was very happy at the warm welcome he had received, and though he was very tired, the travel being particularly hard on his light frame, he wanted to get to work as soon as possible. So, with a wan smile he simply responded to the group of notables that had met him with in fluent, if accented German, “My family is doing extremely well, my wife is of course, still adjusting to the political life, and our daughter, being so young finds it hard for me to be away so much. It seems as though she grows every time that I am away. But if I could, I would definitely like to go to the hotel and settle in, perhaps have a short nap and freshen up before we meet this evening, at 5pm is it? Jet lag is not much fun.”

His aides however, outline a vigorous schedule of meetings and hand over a preliminary document that the Dept. Of Defence has developed over the last two days under the supervision of the Minister, a mere 138 pages, with a writing style and force of clarity of thought that belies the slight man and unassuming pattern of speech that he presents while in person. The basis of the meetings and the document that is no doubt being devoured by the Cassanotians is this: There needs to be a Northern European defensive military alliance that encompasses the states that are more liberal democratic in leaning. This needs to be a totally integrated alliance that legally obligated mutual defence but never binds each state to any aggressive action. This needs to be a capable alliance that is flexible enough to defend its members against all European threats, whether they be Romans, Tsarists, or Soviet. He even suggests a name for the alliance: The North Atlantic Treaty Organisation.

Southend, Walmington

Col. Wilson entered the “meeting” that he was obviously having on the street with a shake of his head. “Just do well in this assignment and pray that you are never sent back here to deal with these people. I have never seen such a pitifully small and powerless people more convinced of their own centrality to world events.”

He sat down across from Sir Henry, waving one of the waitresses over and ordering a beer as well, before opening his brief case and pulling out a file. He said nothing, but simply slid the file across to the caricature that was sitting across from him. In it, there were pics of two warships. The first is the ex-USS Valdez, a Knox Class Frigate that had been housed in the famed, USQ Mothball Fleet. In it, was also pics and faxed in work schedules that showed its current refit for combat readiness.

“Listen homes, I know you are thinking that this might be a little much, but hear me out. 17 officers and 240 enlisted men. We are prepared to open 10 spots at Annapolis for fully funded scholarships in the first year, with 5 each year following for four years, in order to provide for the long-term viability of a Walmingtonian large vessel blue water naval presence in the world. We are willing to sell you this vessel for one pound sterling. This vessel will come with total access to replacement parts, and include a full maintenance contract that we will fund entirely for the first five years, enough time for the technicians that we will be graduating from Annapolis to take over the direction of that maintenance program, with the option to renegotiate a new agreement for future viability at that time. In addition, we are willing to provide 17, uh, technical advisors to help train the officers that will be assigned by the Admiralty. We would also be willing to provide half the crew and provide for their salaries on a multi-year service contract that will be focused on training your crew for that vessel, while you bring in enough sailors to man the crew, all the while slowly removing the Quinntonian crew and replacing them with yours as they become able to take over. And, this could be the first of three such vessels that we would support you in taking over.”

Waiting a moment for that barrage of information to settle in, he moves on, “Also, we would like you to participate in talk about a new alliance that we are hoping to form, they’re calling it NATO. And, there could be a generous development and aid monetary transfer prepared as well.”

Bosporus

Getting Beddgelen shipping through this narrow and busy shipping lane, especially as the whole world knew where to look for any Geletian attempt on the open oceans, was another of the Democratic Republic's many geographic handicaps. Never the less, two of the Beddgelen Democratic Republican Navy's small Batch-2 Hound Class SSKs were swimming at a couple of dozen metres depth and heading south, one in the wake of a large Tsarist container ship and the other following a Beddgelen merchant on a schedueled trip to Tamil Eelam.

Of course, it was schedueled for a similar but distinct vessel, which was to be loaded with wine and tractors, and not this disguised submarine tender hauling extra MANPADS and ATGWs with a crew complement ballooned by Naval Infantry.

The electronic surveillance ship Mihail Kogălniceanu was, unusually, the less covert part of a Beddgelen deployment to South Asia, sailing a fair few hours ahead of the other vessels and doing little to disguise its intention to enter the conflict zone and monitor foreign aggression against the Igovian Soviet Commonwealth.

Still, there was a long way for any Beddgelen shipping to go.

(OOC: I am working on the assumption that since Turkey is once more NPC it's best to, as far as possible, pretend that it doesn't quite exist in a meaningful way, or, failing that, conditions are based broadly on reality, where the Bosporus is treated as an international shipping lane in which Ankara never the less reserves the right to restrict the naval shipping of non-Black Sea nations, and as such Akink is essentially unencumbered until we get a player for the region.
Sorry, the post was cut a bit short, pub lunch with the sister, oddly. Away!)

The Palk Strait

With the surviving Walmingtonian sailors all finally aboard, and the ship's RHIB recovered, Garuda rushes southwest at close to full speed, the recovery part of its operation abandoned in the face of an incoming Indian air strike. A flight of Ceylonese interceptors* provides top cover, using their Foxhunter radars to light-up approaching Indians, and warning the viceregal aircraft not to approach Garuda. Ceylonese sailors see to it that their guests are adequately provided-for, and after the ship's medical staff is satisfied that there are no serious injuries among the survivors, the Walmingtonians are invited to the galley for a warm meal and tea, where they will also find clean clothes waiting for them. Other than that, the Ceylonese crew doesn't much bother the Walmingtonians, who, with the exception of a few areas, are free to move about the ship as they like. Walmington is, after all, a major customer for Ceylonese tea, and the two states, distant though they may be, are usually quite friendly towards one another. They may well find out that it isn't very different from the late Dame Mavis in terms of internal layout.

Two Ceylonese attack submarines, for their part, stay very much where they are. Their latest contact with Colombo, which authorizes attacks without warning on any Indian warships inside the territorial waters of Tamil Eelam, will likely be their last for some time. If the Indians have access to satellite imagery, they'll also be aware that the entirety of Ceylon's submarine fleet is at sea, a serious gesture given the central role played by sub-surface forces in the Republic's defense strategy. If diplomacy fails, and this does not appear unlikely given the present political climate, the modern submarine arm is probably the only part of Ceylon's defense forces that stands a real chance of preventing, or at least delaying, an invasion through force of arms alone.

Ceylon

The Republic of Ceylon is in the best of times wary of the viceregal authorities, so it should not surprise foreign observers that recent concerns, in the wake of the airstrike against Tamil Eelam, have grown into a very real and widespread fear of impending war with India. Military preparations for that contingency, already underway before the bombing raid, are accelerated and expanded to include reserve and paramilitary units. Members of the Police Service, for instance, who usually go about their responsibilities unarmed, can be spotted throughout the Republic carrying assault rifles and SMGs. There is also serious talk in Parliament of enacting conscription, though no concrete moves in that direction are taken as of yet. No doubt the Ceylon Defense Force, professional and well-trained but quite small next to both the Indian and Tamil militaries, will need the manpower if a war does come about, and current plans provide for the mobilization of 70,000 ground troops within a period of about four months.

Diplomatic efforts aimed at the west in particular also intensify, as Colombo seeks to erode support for Delhi's actions among the Western democracies. London in particular is prodded to bring India back under control, and to take a harder line regarding democracy and majority rule on the subcontinent. Ceylonese diplomats, very aware of their Republic's negligible importance in the global sense, suggest that more determined action regarding the Palk Strait Crisis will reflect favorably on the political situation in Europe, especially in terms of relations with Beth Gellert. If London fails to exert proper control over India's foreign policy now, diplomats say, the viceregal government may well begin to act even more provocatively and unilaterally in the future, with who knows what consequences for South Asia and the world at large.

Meanwhile, the Foreign Ministry also handles repatriation arrangements for the rescued Walmingtonian sailors, and the handful of bodies so far recovered from the strait. Colombo has pledged itself to return the Walmingtonians as quickly as their medical condition will allow, all costs covered, and Ceylonese diplomats are also keen to open negotiation for the release of the Walmingtonians held by Tamil Eelam. It is thought that Trincomalee might agree to release the sailors into Ceylon's custody more quickly than would otherwise be the case, and rumor has it that Colombo is prepared to sweeten the deal somewhat as well.

London, No. 10 Downing Street

The meeting room in 10 Downing was significantly more packed than was usual, the full cabinet having been summoned. As ministers, aides and stenographers gathered around the table, Prime Minister Strathairn organized his notes carefully between glances to confirm that the cabinet was coming to order. As the last of the ministers took his seat, Strathairn made a fist and tapped the table three times, his usual signal that it was time to shut up and listen.

"Thank you all for coming," he said as the room quieted. "You have all been briefed on the situation in the Palk Strait, and I trust that any confusion has been cleared up with members of the Foreign Office." In other words, do not ask stupid questions, please. "The first of our concerns is the ongoing military operation by the Dominion of India. Field Marshal Davies?" The aged Chief of the Imperial General Staff interlaced his fingers and rested them on the table in front of his expansive belly, blinking his somewhat cloudy eyes and working his jaw. Strathairn pursed his lips, recognizing the Field Marshal's rather advanced age. Davies made a sort of throat-clearing gargle-noise.

"Yes. The Indian air operations are encountering great success," he said thickly. "Current estimates suggest that Tamil Eelam's capacity to launch aircraft has been totally destroyed, and her anti-air defenses are restricted to what mobile assets have escaped bombardment. The Indian defense ministry isn't being terribly forthcoming, but we've received no word of casualties." He leaned back in his chair. "From a military standpoint, there's not even any point to calling for India to stop its attacks; there's nothing left for them to attack anyway. I anticipate an end to the bombings soon, and no ground offensive to follow."

"Thank you, Field Marshal," Strathairn said cooly. "Ms. Lloyd?"

"We've been receiving an increasingly large number of messages from Colombo, trying to ascertain exactly what our policy towards Delhi is. If I may, it would probably be good to get a clear policy on Delhi before trying to articulate one." Smatterings of laughter appeared around the room. "At any rate, Ceylon is urging us to take a more active role in India's foreign policy, which might actually not be a bad idea. The current Viceroy has been a bit unpredictable, but so far we've seen nothing from him contrary to Britain's foreign policy as a whole, with the exception of the current attacks on Tamil Eelam." Strathairn raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like Christina to restrict herself to a reiteration of the facts as known, and if she did so now it would be somewhat disappointing, especially during an advisory meeting.

"However," she continued, "the status of the Palk Strait as a waterway is going to have to be cleared up. If the current crisis shows us anything, it's that the territorial waters of the Tamils and the Indians both cover significant portions of the strait, and that neutral traffic is in danger of attack should it deviate too much from established international sealanes. Normally, I'd propose that we consult local powers and offer to establish a military station in the area to enforce the safety of neutral traffic, but we won't be seen as a neutral power in this case given our ties to India. Barring a Royal Navy presence, it might be worth consulting the United States about their willingness to deploy a frigate or two to the area. I suppose we could lean on Delhi to give them basing rights. Given the important nature of the Palk Strait for shipping in the Indian Ocean, increasing the international presence there would probably be justified.

"On to related matters. The United States has proposed a political/military alliance called the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, of which Britain would form a major part. Though nominally established to provide for European security, this organization's reach in terms of power projection and diplomatic cachet would probably give it a global reach. Provided the Quinntonians can be induced to give us a significant military and political role, this organization would probably be more helpful than not. I'd advise that we agree to further negotiations, but we'll have to be careful that our military and political power doesn't become inherently tied to the organization."

"Very well," Strathairn said pensively. "If you'd be so good as to provide me with the necessary information, as well as your recommendations, I'll begin negotiations with the Quinntonian prime minister regarding the structure of this organization. As for Ceylon's concerns, unless anyone here has any objections, we should inform them that we are in negotiations with Delhi regarding the current situation and are attempting to affect a mutually acceptable solution." He looked at his press secretary. "George, issue a press release proposing negotiations for a cease-fire, and invite Ceylon, Tamil Eelam, Walmington, and India as participants. Also, issue an invitation to Spyr and the BDR as observers. We really ought to try and avoid the image of being too tied to India here." Strathairn took a sip of the already cold coffee at his right hand and glanced at his notes. "On a related note, let's discuss the British troop deployments in Germany..."

OOC: Sorry ive not posted, just got back from Skiing in St. Anton, have something up tommorow :)

OOC: It's tomorrow. *prods again*

The Lead Eight Bombers were down to a pair of thousand pound LGBs each, and these craft headed for the base that held the majority of the remainder of the Air Tiger Strength, releasing the bombs as they flew over the base, sending them into the hardened aircraft shelters, the base fuel tanks and anything else that looked like it exploded with a blast that would look nice in the morning papers.
Likewise two flights of the escorting Tornadoes locked on to the Tamil Jet and let fly, sending pairs of Radar Guided AMRAAMs and Infrared Guided ASRAAMs downrange towards it, sending nearly sixteen missiles after one enemy MiG.
Again, meanwhile the other 30 or so Canberras reformed into a area bombing formation and turned towards the harbour that was one of the major sea bases for the Sea Tigers in the Palk straight.... time to make sure the slaughter of the crew of the Dame Mavis could never be repeated.

OOC: I know its bad, but I havent really got anything to say

Tamil Eelam

The Indians were having a merry time of it, wasting war materials and the resources of a poor nation to bomb military infrastructure that, often as not, only existed in their own propaganda. The Tamil air force, having had just two jet aircraft, wasn't exactly furnished with great ranks of hardened shelters or much else for that matter.

Pragasam, of course, was shot down, despite having evaded several missiles, but it was perhaps worth noting that the operation probably cost the Indians almost as much in dollar terms, perhaps very near, depending on the marks of the sixteen AMRAAMs and ASRAAMs used against the Tamil pilot, who seemed already destined to become a minor folk hero for his valiant efforts. By the time the enemy had been close enough to launch those ASRAAMs, he'd let go a couple of DRAB-ASRAAM of his own.

Still, one of relatively few Tamil facilities with a paved runway was damaged, for what little it mattered to a nation now lacking jets, and several Air Tiger groundcrew were killed or injured.

As the Canberras moved on to attack port facilities at Kankesanthurai, a couple of 76mm AAA pieces opened fire under optical guidance as ZPU heavy machineguns and Strela 2M-BG MANPADS were brought out. It remained to be seen whether the enemy was planning to brave the Soviets' low-level air defences, or bomb from high altitude with little chance of hitting anything in particular.

(OOC: Ach, full of Chinese beer.)

OOC-I was just wondering if I could get some responses, when people have some time.

WoS: Col. Wilson has some major offers on the table for you, and I would like to wrap up that mini-arc.

Spizania: Foriegn Minister Anthony Sterr soon to be landing in your capitol city in Jesus-2 on an official state visit, to discuss the current situation, on his way to Southern Ceylon. I would be willing to begin discussions with either Spizania or Ceylon at this point, just to wrap up what is going on here.

((OOC: Oh, sorry, I had thought this thread killed-off as Spiz and Gurg were to start some Princely revolt thing, but I suppose this is a side-story, really! Jolly good!))

Anne's Pantry, Southend

If he was to be here long, Wilson should have to get his palate around the sort of beer that had just landed in front of him. Thresher's Refresher- Fine Walmingtonian Bitter, served cooled but far from frosty, as was proper for a drink that actually had some flavour to it.

Sir Henry, Walmington's richest and therefore most trustworthy resident, had been tasked with securing a favourable deal from the Quinntonians. He was planning to request some sort of military aid in the manner of having half of the cost of new warships paid for by partners such as Washington, or this new treaty organisation that SOW had heard talk of but Walmington didn't seem to be a prospective part of, and he hadn't expected the Quinntonians to go so far in their own offer. That put the Walmingtonian off a little. But just a little.

As the Quinntonian spoke, addressing Sir Henry as homes, the knight heard Holmes, and simply supposed that the unfortunate inhabitants of the rebel colonies must be behind on the latest trends and unfamiliar with the proper way to wear tweed and a moustache.

Still, this was not any mild-mannered Walmingtonian, but Governor General Sir Henry Chaspot Wayne, President of the East Africa Company, Walmington's only billionaire, daring adventurer, hero of every young boy in two generations of the Dominion's little population, endagerer of species, raging alcoholic!

In spite of the apperent generosity of the offer conveyed by Wilson, Sir Henry's portly frame jiggled a little with an inward chuckle as the Colonel offered-up places at the United States Naval Academy.

"Ah, Annapolis!" he said, brushing a little froth from his whiskers, "A fine institution, I'm sure! Founded a mere three and a half centuries after the Royal Walmingtonian Navy first put to sea!"

Sir Henry took another moment to look over the files presented to him.

"It's a very generous offer, Wilson. But, as things stand, the RWN has established and convenient training links with the Royal Navy. The Admiral of Britain's Channel Fleet is a Walmingtonian, we've a long history of building British warships, and our boys serve in the same fleet formations as the British. Adapting to work with Quinntonian officers in a fundamental learning environment... I don't know, old chap. I'm not sure Southend will go for it." Sir Henry spoke of Walmington's naval home port, where most of the admiralty was located.

"We won't say no to the ship herself" he cast a quick glance down to the file, [/i]"Our yards don't usually deal with warships over two thousand tons, so this much firepower's a bargain not to be sniffed at. But I wonder what your mob would think of Southend wanting to train the crew and service the ship here, and there."[/i] he gave a slight sideways nod to the north, indicating Southampton and the English coast.

"Still, Rain'll be glad to hear we're in on the Bermuda business." He grunted, refering to Walmington's Tory Prime Minister, Beauregard Rain. "Maybe, if that all goes well, it won't be too much longer before the Admiralty accepts that your boys are more than just Yankee traders and rebels, what!"