NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is opened to Leistung and any other ODECON members who are interested in this. Can anyone else please TG me to keep clutter off this thread. I'm going to be very picky who I let in so impress me! Thanks.
OOC Thread: Stille Nacht OOC Thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=14502166#post14502166)

Parliament House, Whiskeasy

Frederick Gordons was sitting on the leather sofa in the elegant estate rooms in Parliament House, the permanent residence of the Prime Minister in the Capital. He was there along with most of the high-flyers of the present government. Edwatd Scissenfeld and Sharon Boswell were some of the most prominent of the reigning Liberal government of course his new Deputy Prime Minister was with him as well, a young man named Charles Martin who was a prominent and very rich industrialist turned Politician. He was a good Politician and an even better business man, the perfect candidate for Gordon's running mate. They were idling around with other prominent members of the Liberal government as they all waited for the results of the general elections, February 2009. It was more than a little tense, this was one of the closest elections in the nations history. And one of the most deadly as well, for months the National Party had been gaining support and it was scary really.
The economy had collapsed, hundreds of thousands become jobless and many lost their homes. Banks didn't lend anymore even the trillion Poond bailout did not make them start lending again. Prices rocketed, petrol and diesel became unaffordable and the government knew they had screwed up. And the people turned on them, protests were plentiful, as were strikes and violent clashes with the police and military.
And in what seemed to be the peoples darkest hour emerged a man so brilliant, so charismatic and so deadly the people flocked to him. The peoples saviour Nick Griffid arrived with the Nationalist Party, heavily fascist, staunchly patriotic and ever so militant they were bolstered by the people who wanted radical change. Desperate people did desperate things, and Frederick Gordons recognised this. He just hoped there were enough of the sensible citizens who would vote for him, the problem is he knew that his chances were slim, there had been the lowest voter turnout in the nations history. More to the point the people had lost faith in Government, but more to the point they couldn't see the encroaching horror, the communists, Muslims, homosexuals and racial minorities were walking into a death trap. The Nationlists were waving the “Whiskeasy for Whiskeasians!” banner, they were racist, militaristic and winning. Gordons looked around the room and he saw some of the finest politicians and administrators in the country. The mood was downbeat, people were glum. It had been a terrible campaign, the press had slammed them, the Fascists had cruised by. He looked over towards Sharon and said “Please, if we win this one. We may keep the country going, what will happen if he wins will be unbelievable, he will tear this country apart.”

Sharon looked at him sympathetically, “All our work over the past four years will be for nothing. Lets just hope for the best.”

They turned back to the large flat screened television whivh had been on the WMBC News channel all night. A “breaking news” sign appeared followed with “Election results in!”

The whole room stood still, people completely stopped what they were doing and silence took over from gentle chit-chat. All eyes were glued to the T.V screen as the News Anchor moved on from the sport section.

“Good Evening Whiskeasy, it is 9:26 PM. Election results have just come in from around the nation, by a narrow three constituency win over the Nationalist Party is the Liberal Party with Frederick Gordons and Charles Martin. Congratulations Mr Prime Minister, I hope you have a good evening and a pleasant term.”

The room erupted into cheering as people started to slap each other on the backs and shake one another's hands. It was a narrow win and they knew it, they were proud and happy with the result. Back on the T.V the woman said “And now we got to see Nick Griffith leader of the Nationalist Party in the Northern City of Ardbeg. A camera turned to the cool portrait of Griffith standing in a square filled with angry protesters.

As the camera panned to him he said “Greetings my fellow Whiskeasians may I be the first to sadly tell you that your government has cheated you again. Not two hours ago they rigged the election results securing themselves a false victory. Well now is the time is to rise up, rise up and join me and my compatriots along with the Army and let us fight off the false government that has cheated it's way into power. I declare a new country from the ashes of this false Commonwealth. Long live the Fascist Alliance of Whiskeasy and long live the Revolution! With that the cheering crowds started to scream and howl, the red band which had originally served as a show of support was now a uniform as they screaming crowd spread forth unto the streets, spreading destruction and anarchy. With that the camera panned back to the triumphant man smiling his way to victory, the camera then cut to a speechless news reader. She stared gob-smacked at the camera, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide in fear before saying “And now the entertainment news...”

http://img.skitch.com/20081127-e8mcqnkkneea2g6wtffp11prre.png
To: [Official Statement]
From: Office of the President
Subj: Whiskeasian Revolt

The situation in Whiskeasy has clearly reached the point of no return--the actions of Mister Griffith in his complete and utter disregard for democratic procedure and the rights of the Whiskeasian people has had the world biting its nails for some time now, and the declaration of open rebellion against the legitimate government of Whiskeasy marks the end of our patience.

Nicholas Griffith and his fellow conspirators have twenty-four hours to leave Whiskeasy. Failure to do so will result in military action by the Oceanic Defense Coalition to overthrow the usurper and reinstate the rightful Whiskeasian government, commenced at a time of our choosing.

God save Whiskeasy.

Sincerely,
http://img522.imageshack.us/img522/2742/lionaffairskw9.png
Evan Bachmeier
President of the Oceanic Defense Coalition

Parliament House, Bowmore, Day 1

All hell unleashed in Parliament House, people were running everywhere people leaving to get back to their families and worse, the sound of a baying crowd in the distance. Gordons fought his way to a phone where he dialled the number of his Commander in Chief of the Military, General Abraham Smith picked up on the second ring.

“Good to hear from you sir, I'm at Land Command South-West now sir. We have problems, numerous army units around the country are not responding to radio checks, or hard line. We have a problem, Northern Land Command and Eastern are not responding, and I have direct links to them. From what I can tell at the moment the bulk of the mutinous units comes from the northern and eastern districts though the base just north of Bowmore is also unresponsive. We are getting a lot of radio traffic and comms movement between units up there. The Air Force seems to be responding at the moment, no squadrons not receiving. Our main problem is we have no idea how much of our own men who know codes are on their side. This will be an open bloody war if Griffith gets his way. The Navy seems to be on our side as well but they are staying away from shore, we have lost a couple of frigates and patrol boats but all the subs are still on side. We know for a fact he has three ICBM silos, he can't launch them though. Only you and I have the codes for them. I'm afraid to say you must abandon the city, the Royal Guards are in the city but they are prepared for ceremonial duty, not for combat. We are flying in a squadron of Apaches to cover your retreat as you board the attached Chinooks, you need to get down to Bell and make a preliminary government.”

Gordons replied, “Yes of course. When are those helicopters getting here?”

There was background noise and moving about and Abe replied “Ten Minutes, you need to get a move on they aren't waiting. Good luck sir.”

Gordons looked out the window to see the power go out, and it stayed out. And then the fires started, little specks of light growing and morphing, car lights moved and the street lights flickered onto reserve power. Of course he couldn't help but notice the large expanse if torch wielding Fascists, there were a few police retreating in front of them laying down suppressive fire but the crowd returned fire with their own mix match of guns. It was time to leave Gordons decided. He looked at the tiny flag sitting on the desk of his office and he picked it up and put it in his pocket. He started to make his way to the Helicopter.


Diplomatic Communiqué
To ODECON
From President Nick Griffith, The Fascist Alliance of Whiskeasy

Some get us you insolent swine. We fear not the blade of a foreigner for we are far superior than you. We believe in the master race, we believe that you are nothing more than dog, and as such I spit on you and your disgusting diplomatic alliance. Burn in hell.
Long live the Fascist Alliance
Nick Griffith

Caster Oblivion was busy at the newly reconstructed Chief Governor's Mansion. Far from the building where the late Johnny Standford experienced his term in office, the structure had been reinforced to withstand the attack that destroyed the Mansion originally. Offices and rooms were situated differently, as were a lot of the briefing rooms. But some things were the same. The Governors Bedroom was located in the same place, expect now with a study made specifically for Caster. He had been Acting Chief Governor for almost a year now, carrying the weight and memory of the war that killed Anagonia's greatest hero. Things had become so much more different than in previous years, so much so that Caster barely recognized himself anymore.

His life had changed. His People had changed. His position had changed. He refused to be acknowledged as the Chief Governor, yet the people refused to accept an election. Stuck in his current position, he furthered the interests of every Anagonian by founding a Confederation to expand its territory and influence. He joined Anagonia into ODECON, a long desired membership that many citizens wanted. He even expanded the interests on the space program, enlarging the funding for future explorations. Even in his mind, these and many more things just wasn't enough to warrant him being trusted into leadership. Thoughts of vacations and finally settling down crossed his mind often. He never went through with any of them, too busy keeping himself occupied with his duties. He was moping over his self-inflicted emotional state when someone unexpected came through his office door.

"What do you want," Caster said in a groggy voice not looking up from his desk. It was late at night, and he was up way past recommended hours just trying to forget the memories that still haunted him. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

When no reply came, he huffed and slammed his fist on the desk. Irritated, he gazed up to see Oscar Vladinchi standing there. This surprised Caster, so much so his body involuntarily jerked and he nearly fell out of his statesman chair. "Great Dragon!" Caster heaved a breath, standing looking confused. "Oscar? What are you doing up so late?"

"I would ask the same of you," Oscar responded in his usual russian-influenced english. He stepped closer into the light of the nearby lamp, sitting down in a chair in front of Caster's desk. "It is not good for a leader of the free world to be moping around past midnight."

Caster sighed, "Not this again. Please, just-" he looked down, waving his hand with a pen between the fingers "-don't. I don't need this bullshit right now." Oscar shook his head, "You put too much on your shoulders, Caster. I've told you time and again th-" Oscar was cut off by Caster whom yelled, "I DON'T need this bullshit!"

Sighing heavily, the Chief General nodded. "Very well." He had a pained expression on his face as he stood and walked from the office. Caster looked onward as he exited, closing the door respectfully behind him. He felt bad for his actions, for yelling at the old man. In times past Oscar would tutor those in leadership, even tutor Caster on situations that were too hard to handle. He showed an uncanny amount of friendship to everyone in the inner circle of leadership. You didn't find many people like that these days. Grunting, then slamming his fist on his desk and cursing, Caster stood from his desk and headed past the door and into the hallway. Oscar was just about to turn the corner when Caster called for him. The old russian seemed to stop, think about leaving, then give a waning smile as he turned back. Caster looked down as the Chief General leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I'm sorry about that," Caster apologized, "I guess everything's been too much to handle lately."

Oscar Vladinchi chuckled, "Come with me Comrade. Let us talk over some coffee." Caster smiled, "Thank the Gods. I could use some right now!"

* * *

It was now four a.m. and Caster Oblivion had been up since six o'clock yesterday morning. His eyes had dark patches under them, his expression was bleak, and everything about him screamed insomniac. Sitting at a table in the Mansions dining room, Caster savored the morning brew of coffee with Oscar whom sat across the circular table. Around them many more such tables were placed, though theirs the only one having the chairs down from the table. They had been discussing what bothered Caster and what had gone through both their minds when Johnny had died. It was an emotional release for the Acting Chief Governor, surprised himself to see Oscar's eye's gain moisture at a few points. They both drank a sip from their cups, setting them down in unison as they gazed out the large windows that showed the Mansions lawn. Darkness prevailed with a hint of the lights that served to shower the Mansion against possible intruders. Car's occasionally could be seen going past the main road in the city of Union, their headlights visible showing the community readying for the working day. Caster even noted the presence of his Security Service, the guard hiding in the shadow of the room as he looked elsewhere for threats to the Caster's life.

He motioned towards the guardsman. Oscar gazed, slightly amused. "Isn't that the guy who stay's up as much as you do?" Caster shook his head, chuckling. "I don't know. Never can tell with these guy's, they never seem to get tired." Oscar smirked, "That's my military for you." Caster looked at the Chief General, "Oh? How do you know he came from the Military?"

Across the room the Guardsman gave a fleeting gaze to the conversation. Dressed in a two-piece black suit, his job wasn't to have an opinion on any conversation. He did know it was about him, and he was somewhat honored. Truth be told he had stayed up as much as Caster, watching him intently until the Acting Chief Governor retired and another shift took over. He wasn't as tired as Caster, however. Special training and a strong diet concentrated towards functions saw to that. He stood at ease, hands behind his back with dark sunglasses masking his eyes and a dead-center expression revealing nothing. The shadow of the corner hid everything but his form, except apparently to the two occupants. He wasn't looking for perfection, just for the perfect spot to see any incoming persons from all the entrances. He spotted someone, pressing his wrist as he softly spoke. "Entrance Two, sector DH, One." The response was an affirmative, an instant later three more guardsman slid quietly into the room.

The two at the table did not notice the three guardsmen as they hid themselves in positions across the room. They did see, however, someone enter in very formal wear. Caster was the first to note the person, a quizzical gaze as he looked to Oscar. "What is she doing up so early?" Oscar shrugged, looking at the woman as she neared the table. "Mr. Chief Governor, I'm sorry to disturb you and the Chief General at such an hour." Caster smiled, "Oh don't be silly. Come, sit." He offered her a chair at their table, she sat. Caster noted the bags under her eye's feeling her pain all too well. "Have some coffee, Malissa. You look like you need it."

Malissa Wong smiled in thanks, accepting the cup that Caster had just poured for her. She prepared it with two cups of sugar and some milk. Drinking, she almost forgot what she had come in for. With a surprised expression, she nearly coughed up her coffee she sipped. The shadows seemed to stir around them, Caster ignoring the guardsmen. He leaned towards her, "What's wrong?" Malissa's face went flush, "I'm sorry, Mr. Chief Governor." She cleared her throat, "But I almost forgot why I came here."

Oscar laughed, echoing across the room. Caster joined in with a chuckle, leaving Malissa quite embarrassed. The two waited for Oscar's laugh to die down, then Caster gazed at Malissa with a sneer, "You know how to cheer an old man up!" He smiled, "So what brings you here?"

Malissa looked down, "I-..well...I really.."

"Come now little one," Oscar patted her shoulder gently, "We are but men who enjoy the company."

"Sir...Mr. Chief Governor...ODECON has a situation....," she gulped. Her expression darkened. Caster looked to Oscar, whom looked at Caster. The two raised their eyebrow's. "Well, come with it." Malissa nodded, "Whiskeasy's has a civil war..."

As Malissa trailed off, Caster realized just how early it was. For a secretary to do the job of an Adviser indeed signaled the lack of experienced personnel that once populated this Mansion. Oscar and Caster gazed at each other, blank expressions on their face. Both shrugged off Malissa's condition, as it was early and the two were both without excuses themselves. Caster looked at Malissa, speaking slowly. "And who is monitoring this situation?"

* * *

By seven o'clock, Caster Oblivion was on a C-141B Starlifter heading for Whiskeasy. Military Aircraft from a few bases nearby would lend escort when the Starlifter neared range, providing defense for the entire way into the foreign country should any problems arise. Their destination was Bell International Airport, and they would land whether or not allowed to. Coming along with Caster was twenty-four Marines equipped in full gear. They were his defense, as with a fleet of ships dispatched to the north of Whiskeasy to blockade the region and provide ground and air forces for when/if the situation called for military intervention. Personally seeing to the Acting Chief Governor's Defense was Colonel Kaloth Cobra. Together, Kaloth and Caster would attempt to meet with whatever legitimate democratic assembly that was left in the South and determine the extent of Anagonian support. His arrival would not be broadcast, nor a message to be sent. He would just arrive, and hope to the Goddess that there was someone left to talk to.

Gezal Islands, South Coast of Whiskeasy, Day 2

Jack was sitting outside in the sun. His post temporarily abandoned, he could get back up the lighthouse if he heard anything. He dozed in a sunny stupor as the rest of the country warred violently, of course he knew this. WMBC had been broadcasting until three hours ago when what looked like a screaming horde of men ,with the red band of the nationalist party, engulfed the studio screaming hate and anger. As Jack dozed in his slumber he heard faint bleep, a few seconds later he heard it again. Aircraft! Jack jumped up from his chair grabbing his rifle started to run for the AWAC center. He was a member of the Royal Whiskeasian Air Force Regiment, his job was to spot and report approaching aircraft as he legged it up the spiral staircase of the lighthouse he ran to the large pair of mounted binoculars, he sighted the aircraft moving towards him. It was a.... He glanced down at his spotters manual... C141 of some variant and it seemed to flying a pretty direct route to Bell by the look of it. Jack looked at it harder. Those weren't Whiskeasian markings, he grabbed another manual and started to flick through, eventually he found what he was looking for, Anagonian Federation markings. It was an allied plane though what it was doing all the way out here he didn't know.
Jack moved over to the radio and said "Starcommand, this is Starwatcher 12, I have a military C141 with what looks like Anagonian markings. Over."

There was a moments silence until the reply came back "Starwatcher 12, this is Starcommand, copy that, over."

Jack did and he got a brief "Confirmed, Over." after it. Back to his sunbathing he thought.

Over the skies of South Whiskeasy, Day 2

Two Tornados who had been tentatively looking for mutinous presence were hailed on the radio by Starcommand. As they buzzed over the pleasant landscape beneath them the radio squawked "Zulu 3 come in, come in Zulu 3, this is Starcommand, over."
The pilot replied with "Starcommand, this is Zulu 3, Zulu 4 following, over."
The female voice of Starcommand went on "We need you to recce a possibly allied military cargo plane approaching Bell from the Southwest, over. Find out what they want and direct them accordingly. If they are unresponsive you are cleared to engage, over."
Zulu 3 shook his head, he had been flying patrols since ten o'clock last night. He needed sleep. "Roger that Starcommand, over."
The two jets changed course rapidly. Pretty soon they approached the Anagonian plane and said over the radio "You are in a restricted fly-zone, what is your destination and objective. Please declare your nationality, over."

"John, what's going on in Whiskeasy?"

"Mr. President," replied the Salzland Minister for Foreign Relations, Johnathon Marcus Davis, "it seems that the Whiskeasian Nationalist Party is attempting a coup. They were narrowly defeated in elections, but claimed the Liberal Party 'cheated' in some way or other."

"Doesn't matter," added the Minister of Defense, Ian Williams. "We've heard whispers of arms shipments going to these fascist lunatics for the past few months. It's my fault for not believing that they'd actually go through with it. Now it seems like they were going into the streets regardless of who won the election. It's just now they might be able to persuade some people that were sitting on the fence to join in the chaos."

"Mr. President, if we don't intervene Whiskeasy will tear itself apart and create a humanitarian crisis the likes of which the world has never seen. The Foreign Ministry is absolutely certain that should Salzland not act, the consequences would be dire."

"We have four airborne divisions already in Whiskeasy, as part of a joint exercise. Defense has already prepared orders for them to seize nearby airports and seaports, and secure them and their surrounding areas for incoming Salzland forces. Should ODECON choose to make use of them, the facilities will be open for their use as well. For as long as we can hold them, at any rate."

"Gentlemen, we cannot leave Whiskeasy hanging under any circumstances. Ian," the President spoke, turning to his Defense Minister, "Get those troops moving now, under my authority. John, draft a letter to the Whiskeasian PM, and let them know what we're doing. I don't want to wait for their permission and risk the Nationalists getting tipped off and digging in. The sooner we take those facilities the better it'll be for our troops."

***

To: Prime Minister Frederick Gordons, Whiskeasy
From: Office of the President, Salzland
CC: Evan Bachmeier, President of ODECON; ODECON Member States

Dear Sir,

In this trying time for you and your nation, the Armed Republic wishes to re-consecrate the bonds of friendship that tie Salzland and Whiskeasy together. As you well know, we have four divisions of airborne infantry deployed in your nation presently, both for joint exercises as well as invasion deterence. It now seems that their deployment was extremely fortuitous.

I have ordered these soldiers to make immediate maneuvers to secure airports and seaports for the arrival of additional Salzland forces. Use of these facilities has also been offered to member states in the Oceanic Defense Coalition (ODECON) that wish to join us in aiding our Whiskeasy brothers and sisters. I ask you to please designate locations that our forces may secure, with a special interest in ease of off-loading large numbers of troops and armored vehicles.

We recognize your government as legitimate, and will take any and all steps open to us to ensure that it remains in power. Whiskeasy must stand as a democracy, or else it will fall into destruction and chaos.

May God be with us in these trying times.

Signed,

William Phillips
President of Salzland

****

To: Nick Griffith, "President" of the "Fascist Alliance of Whiskeasy"
From: Office of the Minister for Foreign Relations, Salzland
CC: ODECON Member States

Sod off, you cur.

Signed,

J. Marcus Davis
Minister for Foreign Relations

(OOC: I haz teh permission to do thiz xD)

CA Aquaria, Fictions

A ringing silence as the last of the news reports on the Whiskeasy situation had finished playing out. The gathered people sat stunned, after a few moments heavy silence one finally managed to find their voice.
“Is this... Real?”
The woman who has shown the repots, Fictions leader and foreign affairs minister, nodded
“It is, as you can see” She smiled “The situation in Whiskeasy is incredibly volatile” She gave a little chuckle. This was too good, Whiskeasy was probably the single most hated country in Fictions and it was spiralling into chaos! looking around the room, Nita noted with some satisfaction that others seemed to share her views.
“I assume we are monitoring the situation?”
“Indeed we are”
“What is our stance?”
Nita frowned slightly as she considered it, this was a difficult question no doubt about it. Normally Fictions would welcome an uprising of this nature but in this case there were... circumstances and not just those that involved the hostilities between the two nations, although that did have quite a large effect. No the concern was this; Whiskeasy had proven itself to be a threat and now these 'nationalists' may get in charge things could go very badly. Yes, if they got into power they would be in a similar situation to the one Fictions was in now. A damaged country, one that needed millions in repairs but that did not change the main fact. That was this; these Whiskeasian nationalists are that inconvenient kind, the kind that wanted a “pure race” inevitably this meant them being “white supremacists” which for reasons unavoidable, meant Fictions (being a rather arrogant nation with 'supremacist' views itself) could never deal with in peaceful terms, especially if they had a history of hostility
“Our stance....” Nita paused and then grinned, standing up abruptly and walking over to the window, much to the surprise of all. She started out at the city for several moment and the turned to face the others
“Our views on Whiskeasy? Our views are simple; Whiskeasy can burn in hell.” She paused looking over their carefully blank faces “In fact, I don't see why we cannot help them do just that” She waited for this to sink in
“You mean...Help them with their own destruction?”
“Not necessarily, They are in a civil war yes? Lets keep the flames of war burning, give them excuses to attack each-other”
“And if it backfires? If we get found out”
“Don't worry, That will not happen...”

***

Bowmore, Whiskeasy

Nirav Patel Sat in his small apartment, he was laughing despite what had just happened. He had no idea why he laughed, it was not funny, almost getting killed. Only managing to escape by ducking into an alley. Since the riots had started life had become... Difficult. It was the irony, that is what he found funny. Amazing, when you just manage to escape a racist mob with you life, the sorts of things that run through your head, Like back in Fictions, when he was only, what? Seventeen? He had done something similar to an immigrant, and now it was happening to him he understood how it must have felt. Regaining some composure he stood up, from the next room he could hear his phone ring he picked it up. What he heard was the last thing he expected, but on second thought, perhaps he should have been expecting it.
“Bechse'Metva, Patel”
It was someone from back home, could it be what he thought it was?
“So how is life treating you?”
“Just escaped a mob, but other than that I can't complain”
“Ah well, enough idle chatter, I was told to give you this message, I don't know if it means anything...”

***

That was it, The end of his... well, peaceful was not quite the right word... The end of his almost but not quite normal life in Whiskeasy. It had taken a good part of a few hours but he finally got together everything he needed. What would happen next? Who knew? He made his way to where he needed to be, staying away from public places. He was heading to the Pepsi-Max Convention Centre, target number one. A big, High profile building, and open to the public, a nice target to get things started. What effect this would have, he id not know, hopefully it will help the country on it's path to chaos, but who knew?

He stepped inside the building, he tried not to meet anyone's eyes, incase they were a nationalist, he had no intention of doing the 300 metre sprint for a second time. Inside the building he simply wandered around, acting just like any other visitor, occasionally someone throw a racist remark in his direction but he paid no notice to it, he had bigger things to consider. Stepping into the men's room, he waited a for a few minutes before pulling his hood up and leaving, any CCTV watching would only see a vague shape of a person wearing a hoodie. That person could be anyone. He walked around this time he would occasionally stop and take a small package out of his rucksack and tuck it away in some nook or cranny, this went on for a bout five minutes before he put his rucksack in a bin and left the building. He had fifteen minutes to get back to his apartment. He ducked into an alley just in time to hear the explosion go off...

Government House, Bell, Whiskeasy's Southern Region, Day 2

Gordons was sitting at a desk in what was the Mayors office in Bell. He had just signed two bits of legislation which was rather drastic, one banned basic freedoms and the other put the country into Martial law giving the military and police force powers that they would normally wouldn't even dream of. The right to free speech was withheld, the right to a free trial was withheld and of course, the death penalty was back. The Army and Police were allowed to arrest or if necessary kill anyone, Police were given automatic weapons and even militias were being formed. It was looking bad, about a third of the army had defected, nearly all the northern units. A few southern ones had but were swiftly put back in their places by the execution of three ringleaders, there were spots of loyalist troops everywhere and odd groups of rebels as well, the main problem was the Private army that Griffith had created, they whipped crowds into a fervour and then let them lose on their own towns, killing foreigners and people who followed the “wrong” god. However most they left alone, for animals they were not. Gordons had a strong hold over areas to the south and east but the north was still firmly in Griffiths command, they needed to retake the lost ground until the groups of Police and Military left behind were overrun. He had a couple of Divisions of Salzlander troops who were going to crack in land and take back landing zones and ports. Luckily Eastern Land Command was not under the command of the enemy, there was a full scale battle though in the close confines of the base as the two Factions within fought for control, in the end the Loyalists landed a decisive victory when they drove a tank into the Rebel CP. He looked out the window to see an APC packed with troops making it's way north. Gordons realised that this would die down soon enough anyway, when the crowds returned to their houses and the support faded for the new dictator, Gordons would crush this alliance not let the feelings fester. He would tear the heart out with no mercy, people would die over the following week it would be necessary.

Diplomatic Communiqué
To President William Phillips, Salzland
From Prime Minister Frederick Gordons, Whiskeasy

We thank you greatly for your help. We have organised ourselves to the south around the city of Bell and we wish to retake the lost ground as quickly as possible. We have identified the city of Port Ellen and the city of Grouse as primary targets, we also suggest reinforcing our troops at Kilhoman they are spread thin and if the rebels counter attack.
Many thanks,
Frederick Gordons

OOC: Reply to Fictions coming soon....

The dream came as it usually did. The memory of the event came first, then the actions he took, then the outcome that happened in reality. He never had a chance to correct the event, the dream only allowing him to remember the memory of him signing the death certificate of his dear friend. The moment when they met in the hallway. Caster wanted to badly to accept the invitation to the private lunch that would have saved Johnny a meaningless death. He declined every time, preferring to head to his office and work. Then as he was called elsewhere from the Mansion, he realized in his dream just how horrible a decision it was. Looking out the Senate Building as the Chief Governor's Mansion exploded in a doomsday fireball of death and destruction. Gazing in horror at the massacre of helpless victims, of those whom somehow survived running around screaming as napalm-like fuel consumed their flesh. Of how he just stood there an watched in horror.

It repeated itself, like it always had. This time, however, the Senate Hall jumped and he jumped with it. A jerk, almost like flying into turbulence. This time, the flames consumed him in a wave of pain and agony. This time, Johnny's burning skeleton stood beside him and yelled for him to wake up. When he did, Caster Oblivion slammed his head into the metal support of his makeshift bunk. Instantly the medics surrounded him, helping him up, checking his forehead. hey seemed concerned, too concerned. He shoved them away as the Starlifter rocked again, sending him down against the floor. The medics almost tumbled with him had it not been for the quick reflexes they were blessed with. He cursed under his breath, grabbing a rope and pulling himself up. He noted with no amusement that the Marines seemed to have imitated his tumble and were in odd positions laughing with one another. When they finally realized he was glaring with an intent to slaughter, they wised up quickly. Colonel Kaloth Cobra was in the cabin, so his Marines were evidently prone to goofing off when his commanding presence wasn't around.

* * *

The C-130B Starlifter rose in altitude as the two Tornadoes rocketed to intercept the intruder. Two F-22's jetted under the large under section of the huge aircraft, coming into formation as two more soared in from the east and west heading towards the direction of the Tornadoes. The radio came alive then, a response given.

Unknown Aircraft, this is Anagonia Prime. We have on board precious cargo, I repeat, we have on board precious cargo. Our destination is Bell International, and we will be landing per orders of the Chief Governor.

OOC: Ah Crap... I have been calling my Typhoons, Tornadoes... Silly me.

Bowmore, Whiskeasy, Day Two,

Penrod lay silent in the gutter, he had been horrifically beaten twice by roving gangs of racists. His face was broken and bleeding his left eye had swelled over and he had vicious bruises all down his body and his leg was broken. From his position in the gutter he could see the Pepsi-Max Convention Centre, it was on the other side of the plaza and was a huge building with wings and complexes curling out in the architectural style of the moment, people were moving around inside the main building, only a few but some. Most people were hiding at home waiting for the madness to end. A few prowled the streets looking for foreigners like Penrod to beat. He was aching all over and the adrenaline which had dulled the pain at first was gone now and the pain coursed through his body every time he breathed in, he thought he might have a couple of broken ribs as well.

A few hours later he started to pull himself onto his good leg, he sat on the edge of the pavement looking towards the Pepsi-Max Centre, that was when the first explosion happened, then four more followed in quick succession. Fire engulfed the main building and people started to scream and shout, one man, or woman it was hard to tell, emerged from the burning building fully alight staggering forward a few spaces before collapsing. The corpse smouldering in front of the blazing building. It was a series of incendiary bombs that had set the building alight, people started to run away from the blaze as it started to spread to nearby shops and residences, a bedraggled fire team arrived on an old engine. They just looked at the blaze before driving off to a nearby house and started to put that out instead. Penrod just sat watching it all until a single Limousine and military truck turned up. From the limousine stepped a man he recognised as Nick Griffith, the other was Lieutenant_General Thomas Fitzgerald, the military mind behind the coup. His whole northern army group had joined him in the coup, some were less than happy but he was a charismatic man and an excellent soldier. A platoon of men jumped from the back of the trucks and started to sort through the crowd, they would occasionally shout out and drag a struggling foreigner from the mix of cultures. Griffith himslef walked towards Penrod, Penrod sat watching one of the most powerful men in the country approach him. He was wearing a black overcoat and a grey suit beneath with a pistol in a holster at his side. He noticed Penrod's skin colour and disdain filled his face, he pulled the pistol from his holster and pointed at Penrod centre of mass. He fired three shots in quick succession and turned around leaving Penrod to bleed slowly to death.

Over the Skies of south Whiskeasy, Day Two,

The two Typhoons kept their course just to the rear of the Cargo plane as it responded, Zulu 4 replied “You are cleared to land, your escort may not continue, we shall bring you into Bell International, Over.”


Bell International Airport, Whiskeasy, Day Two,

The airport had been closed, the military had moved in set up road blocks and made fortifications. It was one of the largest airfields in the region and would be vital in resupplying Whiskeasy.
Three Snatch Land Rovers set off from the main terminal building towards the runway where the C141 would be landing. There was a collection of Royal Whiskeasian Airforce Soldiers and Army squaddies. Commodore Brian Wilks was sitting in the passenger seat of the lead Land Rover, he would meet the Anagonian plane and find out why they were here. Perhaps to lend a hand. Who knew, in the distance he could see the aircraft coming in from the south west. His Snatch weaved around an abandoned baggage train and continued towards the runway, all flights had been grounded in Whiskeasy due to the fact the rebels had anti-air weapons, however that said the south was relatively safe. The north was a different matter entirely.

(OOC: Not an important post, just one I felt like doing, a proper post will come once I have the info I need, this is kinda in place of an "official response" i guess...)


WORLD: Whiskeasy in Chaos

Of all the nations in all the world to suddenly turn fascist, the Commonwealth of Whiskeasy is one of the last places you would expect, however that is just what is happening. After what we have heard was the one of the closest elections in Whiskeasian history, where the Liberal party won but only just. The National Party's leader, Nick Griffith (no relation) announced that the elections as a fraud, and in doing so set off a wave of anarchy and violence. Always a risk with a system as unstable and flawed as democracy.

Whiskeasy, a nation known to many of us, and one who's name will never be looked upon with respect. But what is the official response to their situation? When pressed, government officials stated “What happens in Whiskeasy is of no concern to us, whether they turn fascist or remain democratic is of no significance”

COMMENTS: 20 [Currently Displaying 4]

BURN IN HELL WHISKEASIAN SCUM!!
REMEMBER C.ESPIAS
ALL WHISKEASIANS TO DIE!!
@ FeyFly
It's all relevant as to whether Whiskeasy would become even more imperialist, should they seek to expand, or for some reason want to target countries that do not fit “their ideals” then perhaps they could be dangerous, however, just because we had a bad experience with them once does not mean we will again, but perhaps I am optomistic
LOL How do they like anarchy eh? Now all we need is for them 2 get n00ked XD
Will this effect us? Will they try to invade us again?

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40 Miles Outside of Port Ellen, Whiskeasy
1:00 AM Local Time

During the early hours of the brewing crisis in Whiskeasy, visually there appeared to be little activity at the recently-constructed Salzland military facilities on the outskirts of the Whiskeasian city of Port Ellen. The facilities, five in total, were constructed to house 40,000 Salzland paratroopers sent to aid Whiskeasy on the eve of an aborted invasion. With a significant investment of funds from the Salzland Defense Forces they had been upgraded from temporary camps into full-scale foreign bases, the first to be opened with the intent of continual occupation by the Armed Republic. Port Ellen had been chosen as the site for deployment based on its status as the closest developed port to Salzland proper, as well as its location on the coast, making it almost assured that any enemy forces invading Whiskeasy would have to engage the Salzlanders.

At present, the facility housed the original four airborne divisions deployed during that twenty four hour crisis period. Since the threat of invasion had ended, somewhat heavier equipment could be flown or shipped in safely, providing the soldiers with a handful of tanks, numerous armored personnel carriers and a limited deployment from the Salzland Air Force. At one o'clock in the morning, local time, the vast majority of the forces garrisoned at these bases began moving out.

All told, 35,000 Marines were moving by truck or Infantry Fighting Vehicle toward the city's airport and harbor. Accompanying them were 100 LY4A1 Warhound Main Battle Tanks, along with 300 Bradley IFVs. Once the forces arrived and set up defensive positions at these key points, roughly 30,000 Marines would set up roadblocks along the three key highways connecting Port Ellen with the Whiskeasian cities of Bowmore and Ardberg. Most of the tanks and IFVs would accompany them, while the remaining 5,000 Marines and vehicles would set up defensive positions in the city itself, as a last ditch defense should the roadblocks be penetrated.

This left 5,000 Marines to guard the actual Salzland bases, split evenly so that each base maintained a one thousand Marine guard. In the mean time, a squadron of AH-64D helicopter gunships and a squadron of F-22 Raptor fighters were idling on the runways, prepared to assist in the defense of the roads to Port Ellen for as long as possible.

The stage was now set for what was a civil war to become a full-fledged international incident.

(OOC: Obligatory warning; contains racist views ect, not my own views, nor do they reflect my views, I am using them for RP purposes and are not to be taken seriously or to heart. I do not mean people any offence by them)

Christ this was dull.... Jason had been put on sentry duty and that meant standing guard at the back of the post office for hours. Hours with nothing interesting happening, he expected all the action was at the front. Damn, just my luck. Hell anything could be happening right now and he was stuck out here. He was just contemplating this when a shout came unexpectedly
“Hey! White Boy!” He looked up sharply, What the Fuck!?
“That's Right Motherfucker! I'm Talkin to you!” Not thinking he reached for his gun and fired a few shots but the speaker had hid behind the wall. Damn, looked like a paki or something, bloody foreigners. He kicked a stone that was lying on the ground and swore, fucker got away!
“Call that aim? My grandmother has better aim!”
Jason could feel his anger rising. God how he wanted to get out there and kill the fucker. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore it and stick to his post, god how he was trying. One more word out of that damn Paki's mouth and the bastard was good as dead.
“What's wrong? Scared to come out eh white boy?”
Fuck this shit! Jason walked briskly towards the gate checking his M16 as he went. He wouldn't kill him. Well, not immediately, he would have some fun first. Unlocking the gate he stepped out and faced the man, who instead of turning and running, as most often happened, gave him the finger. Jason pointed his gun at the foreigner
“You wanna do that again sand N*****?” Jason strode forward and rammed the butt of his gun into the other man's stomach, who surprisingly offered no resistance but bent double, clutching at his stomach and fell to his knees Jason was about to strike him for a second time when the man whipped his hand out of his jacket, It happened fast taking Jason by surprise but before he really registered what had happened he heard the first gunshot...

***

Patel knew what he had to do would be risky, hell, he was basing it all on what he would have done- not a complete off chance as he had, in fact, done a lot of the stuff that was going on here already- But still, if he misjudged the sentry he would die. So when the sentry had first pointed the gun at him he assumed that a judgement error had happened.
“You wanna do that again sand N****?” Patel didn't move or speak, just watched the man come towards him. That first blow was not unexpected but winded him none the less, as he fell he slipped his hand into his jacket and found his gun, it was just a .45 cal pistol but it was better than nothing. The sentry made to strike again. He reacted instinctively, pulled the gun out of his jacket and fired three shots at the attacker, once in the stomach and twice in the head.
Patel staggered to his feet and kicked the now dead sentry with a mix of anger and frustration. He picked up the dead man's gun, well he wouldn't need it would he? and walked a few feet away from the spot to a dumpster behind which he had hidden his rucksack containing all he would need. Passing by the corpse again he realised that the door leading into the post office would be locked. A quick search of the man's pockets found a set of keys and some change, he pocketed the change, not feeling the least bit guilty.

***

Opening the door to the post office he found himself in a small back-room, there were parcels and letter and he found himself thinking... What a same it would be if someone were to drop a light, a fire had not been part of the original plan but the opportunity seemed too good too miss, it would help make the job feel finished somehow. He got to work emptying the letters and packages onto the floor and as with the pepsi-co job, placing various explosives around the room. Then taking a lighter out of his pocket started lighting various letter-plies
“HEY! What the hell do you think your doing!?”
He spun around, a man carrying a pile of parcels was staring, mouth slightly open. Patel swore and made a run for it, behind him he could hear the shouts of the man, he had only made it down the street when he heard the explosion...

(OOC: HOLY CRAP! CENSORSHIP ON JOLT!!!)

(OOC: Whisk, if you want your military to react to my mobilization before my troops reach this point, let me know and I'll delete/edit this post)

Outskirts of Port Ellen, Whiskeasy
2:30 AM Local Time

After an hour and a half of hard travel, the spearheads of the Salzland troop columns were finally outside Port Ellen. The highways heading out of the city were packed almost bumper-to-bumper with Whiskeasians attempting to flee into the countryside, while the routes into the city were practically deserted. While this meant that the Salzland forces moving in would not have to contend with civilian traffic delaying them, it also meant that they would be horribly exposed to any Whiskeasy Nationalist observers. Hundreds of trucks and armored vehicles moving down the main highways toward the city would certainly be reported to local police, who would assuredly bump the reports up the chain of command to the military.

Thus, speed was of the essence as the first platoons entered the city limits, en route to the Port Ellen International Airport (OOC: If you have a different name tell me and I'll edit it). Reinforcements from the Salzland mainland were already embarking for deployment, meaning that the airport and harbor facilities had to be secured for their arrival. Should the airborne units manage to hold out for a mere twelve hours, the Salzland troop levels in Whiskeasy could be nearly doubled. These units would be all light infantry and air-mobile forces, but at this early stage in the Whiskeasian Civil War, infantry would be more important than armored forces. City fighting had always been the domain of the infantry, and should the Whiskeasians attempt to immediately retake Port Ellen, it would be the infantry that decided the battle, one way or the other.

Entire wings of the Salzland Air Force were being briefed on the developing situation in Whiskeasy, and prepared to escort a veritable aerial armada of transport ships carrying men, munitions, food and fuel to the airborne troops holding Port Ellen and the surrounding area. Heavier armored forces were being moved to embarkation points along the coast, where less than a week's hard travel would see their arrival in Port Ellen, hopefully in time to first repulse and then counter-attack the Nationalist forces in the North. They would be escorted by elements of the Salzland Third and Fifth Fleets, which would also provide cruise missile support and additional air cover off of the fleet carriers during the early days of the battle.

As General Lawrence Thompson, commander of the Salzland Expeditionary Forces-Whiskeasy reflected on what would almost certainly be several days of hard fighting ahead, he frowned. On paper their plan seemed solid, taking the city's transportation hubs and holding out until massive reinforcements from Salzland could arrive. With the Whiskeasian military still fighting it out amongst themselves at nearly every base in the country, it would be at least a few hours until an organized push from the Nationalists could be deployed against them. Even then, the Nationalists would have to be careful, lest Loyalist units from the South push northward and catch them in a deadly flanking assault. Or even better, secure the capitol at Bowmore and end the entire war with a minimum of bloodshed.

'Everything depends on our opponents at this point,' Thompson thought to himself. 'What is their readiness level? What equipment do they have ready to move? How much resistance will we encounter on the streets ahead? Do the Nationalists have any units already in Port Ellen?' The answers to those questions could very well determine the course of the war.

Thompson had already taken measures to answer some of those questions. A platoon of Marines to the rear of the column had been ordered to stop some vehicles travelling out of Port Ellen. They would then question the drivers and any passengers as to the situation in the city, specifically what armed resistance the Salzland forces could expect. While he was uncertain how many individuals could be trusted in the Nationalist-controlled North, the law of probability meant that at least one of the Whiskeasians his people intercepted would be loyal, and provide somewhat accurate information.

The fate of their country might depend on it.

Port Ellen, Northern Whiskeasy, Day 2 1:30AM

Captain Taylor toured his bedraggled post, he was sheltering in an apartment block on the water front looking over Port Ellen's main commercial harbour. He had hid half-company of light infantry and a mix of local police and reservists. He was running low on ammunition and one of the policemen was pretty badly wounded. The rebels were mulling around outside every now and then one would stand up and fire at the apartment block, Taylor needed an evac soon. A ship had tried to get to them a few hours ago but had retreated under heavy fire from small arms and LAW fire. He knew that there was little chance of getting any form of support. All air strikes were called of due to the amount of civilians in the area. Same for artillery and mortar fire. He needed some form of evac, he needed relief soon. The rebel army had pulled back back about an hour ago, presumably to block the counter attacks from the Army fighting north.

He got on the radio for the fourth time that day and said “Calling all loyal units, this is Captain Taylor of the 47th Rifles, I need immediate help and assistance. We know that there is at least a battalion of regular infantry as well as another battalion sized formation of paramilitary troops. Please help we have wounded and our in need of immediate assistance.”

- - - - - - - -

Three miles down the road the 9th and 43rd Mechanised Battalion was dug in waiting to repulse the encroaching Salzlander army. They had blockaded all the major roads leading into town and had troops in the buildings around them. The Warrior IFVs themselves were set behind the barricades in most cases laying down fire with their heavy cannons. The 1500 men were backed by another 2000 badly trained and disciplined militia fighters. They were armed with smuggled, stolen and home-made weapons. Some armed with nothing more than a box of Molotov cocktails. They sat and waited for the Salzland troops to arrive. The 9th and 43th had been in the city for three hours, they had captured most of the loyalists and imprisoned them in a crude prison camp in their old army base North East of Port Ellen.

A loyalist convoy heading south, Outside Bell, Whiskeasy 1:30 AM

Jack Daniels thought back to his busy day, in the chaos of the coup he had been left behind, embarrassing for the most popular Prime Minister in the nations history. He had jumped out of a second story window from the St James's Rehabilitation Centre in Bowmore as the raging crowds arrived. He jumped into the bushes and scurried away in the night, a group of policemen heading south picked him up. They had to threaten their way through three different mobs, at one point one of the policemen pulled the pin out of a grenade and menacingly threatened to lob it at a crowd of about three hundred. They backed down and the two squad cars rolled on, at about 11:00 last night they had run into a company of Royal Logistics Corps members who they were now travelling with, in about an hour they would be in the City of Bell were the loyalist government was based. On the other side of the central reservation columns of IFVs and Tanks were heading north. The government wanted Bowmore back by the end of tomorrow night and they wanted Griffith's head on a pole by the end of the week. Daniels lay back in the padded seats of the cruiser and dozed, in a few hours he would be back in the thick of it, his world of political intrigue.

(OOC: Whisk, if you don't mind, I'm going to have one of those cars my troops stopped tip my people off about your ambush. Once again, if you want I'll edit/delete it, but what I'm going to go for is the necessity of pushing through quickly and getting to your stranded troops, versus waiting for air support to clear the roadblocks. Because my people are going to shoot everything up then ask for forgiveness, rather than take a ton of casualties sweeping buildings.)


Port Ellen City Limits, Whiskeasy
2:32 AM

"Calling all loyal units, this is Captain Taylor of the 47th Rifles..." repeated the broadcast over an unencrypted frequency. Judging by the low-powered broadcast and the fact that it had come in four times at this point, Sergeant Taylor Gavins felt it safe to say that the broadcast was a recording. Having forwarded the information back to command, he and his recon patrol continued on foot toward the city of Port Ellen.

General Thompson, knowing that the three major highways into Port Ellen played a major part of his own plans to defend the city, figured that someone in the Whiskeasian military must've realized it too. A pair of Hummvees had sped ahead of the troop column, dropping off Sergeant Gavins and two fireteams of Marines to serve as advanced scouts. They were dropped three miles outside the city, and given forty minutes to reach the outskirts and report back. Thus far, they had found nothing of note. Suddenly, the crack of a high-powered rifle snapped Gavins back into the present.

"Medic! Man down!" cried out one of Gavins' Marines, moving to pull his wounded comrade back into the cover provided by a ditch running alongside the road. The wounded soldier, down groaning and grabbing at his right shoulder, was lucky to not be killed outright. With the rest of his men down in cover, Gavins began to carefully look around the surrounding area, hoping to find the shooter. With no obvious enemies to return fire against, he ducked back down before he became the next victim and flipped his radio to the Company channel.

"Command, Recon 1. We have a hostile sniper on the outskirts, possibly a scout. One man down, wounded. Not critical at this time."

"Roger that Recon 1. Be advised that Rapier Actual has received intel indicating hostile forces may be dug in around your position. Request you continue recon sweep further into the city, over?" Came the reply. Invoking Rapier Actual, the code-name for General Thompson himself, meant that this request was actually an order.

"Uh," Began Gavins, considering whether pushing on with a divided unit was the best strategy, considering the wounded man was unable to move and had to be attended to, "Roger that, Command. Am leaving one fire team as protection for my wounded man. Moving out."

With that, Gavins pulled a smoke grenade off the clip securing it to his web belt, and threw it out of the ditch. After a few seconds a cloud of smoke thick enough to prevent the sniper from taking another shot obscured the soldiers. Gavins and his team still ran for the shelter of a side-street, just in case the sniper had thermal imaging equipment.

"Sarge, movement at the intersection," announced Gavins' point man, risking a quick glance around the corner. "Barricade across the road, definitely manned by hostiles. Looks like an armored vehicle back there too." With that, Gavins moved to the corner, confirming the observations from his point man. There was definitely a roadblock across the route the Salzland forces needed to take to reach the harbor.

"Command," Gavins began, getting back on the radio, "We have a roadblock, one hundred yards North of my current position. Marking location and transmitting it now. Be advised the roadblock is manned, and appears to have armored vehicles supporting it. Recommend deploying artillery and air support to eliminate the hostiles."

"Understood Recon 1, find somewhere to hunker down. Rapier Actual is calling in the flyboys. Artillery will be on-line within ten minutes, and air support within twenty. We're going to use you as our forward observers for this position, over."

"Confirmed, Command. We'll be ready to mark targets and direct fire. Ask them to hurry it up, because there are Whiskeasian Loyalists out there who need us. Over and out." With that, Gavins and his men broke into a building with a side-door in their alley, and prepared for the incoming fire support. They would have to be flawless in their direction of the fire, or else the Salzland forces could end up stalled out along the highway, a perfect target for Nationalist air units. Not to mention the Whiskeasian loyalists who were counting on their support.

****

"Attention, this is Rapier Two calling for any Whiskeasy Loyalist Force '47th Rifles,' members receiving. Be advised that Salzland forces are moving into the city, and will be in range to provide support within thirty, repeat three-zero minutes. Hold on until then," came a radio transmission directed from the Major General leading the first Salzland division into the city. He only hoped that they would be able to hold on until help arrived.

Over the Skies of south Whiskeasy, Day Two,

The two Typhoons kept their course just to the rear of the Cargo plane as it responded, Zulu 4 replied “You are cleared to land, your escort may not continue, we shall bring you into Bell International, Over.”


Bell International Airport, Whiskeasy, Day Two,

The airport had been closed, the military had moved in set up road blocks and made fortifications. It was one of the largest airfields in the region and would be vital in resupplying Whiskeasy.
Three Snatch Land Rovers set off from the main terminal building towards the runway where the C141 would be landing. There was a collection of Royal Whiskeasian Airforce Soldiers and Army squaddies. Commodore Brian Wilks was sitting in the passenger seat of the lead Land Rover, he would meet the Anagonian plane and find out why they were here. Perhaps to lend a hand. Who knew, in the distance he could see the aircraft coming in from the south west. His Snatch weaved around an abandoned baggage train and continued towards the runway, all flights had been grounded in Whiskeasy due to the fact the rebels had anti-air weapons, however that said the south was relatively safe. The north was a different matter entirely.

OOC:
Sorry for being late. Was busy with my Valentine over the weekend and had some chores to do Saturday running around doing things.

IC:

[b]In the Skies above South Whiskeasy/b]

"Confirmed," replied the pilot, "escorts breaking off. Making our heading zero-three-zero by ten-thousand."

Caster sighed heavily as he noted that a potential disaster had been averted. He had personally called the escorts off, as it was his decision. Gazing out the port view near the cockpit, he watched as the four Raptor's formed up and gave a final send off before heading back towards one of the foreign military bases. He strode aft down a short metal staircase, wherein he opened a bulkhead door and entered the cargo department. Kaloth was still in his assigned seat, having from from the fore of the aircraft when one of the medic's informed him of Caster's fall. He gave a short nod, Caster returning it before sitting in an assigned seat.

One of the Marines, obviously assigned to be his personal aide during this trip as he held a notepad, handed him a PDA for him to view. Caster thanked the Marine, surfing through the information on the PDA and quickly updating himself on events in the homeland. It didn't take long for him to realize that Oscar Vladinchi had assumed Command in his absence. He noticed himself sighing in relief, silently chuckling in amusement at his subconscious realizing that the Chief General was a better leader than he was. He started to wonder why everyone else did not see this fact. His mind jumped back to the reality around him when Kaloth patted his shoulder, "Were landing sir."

Caster nodded, "Thank you Colonel." He gazed around the cargo area, "Any idea on how we should depart first?"

Kaloth took an empty seat beside Caster, strapping in. "My men will depart first, weapons drawn. You will follow with five of my Marines as your guard."

He couldn't argue with an experienced warrior. Caster nodded, "Alright."

[center]Bell International Airport - Runway One[center]

The C-130B Starlifter came down gently, touching the pavement as its tires screeched in revolt of the weight. Slowly the huge aircraft came to a halt, nearly at the end of the runway before making a turn-around in the section provided. It came up a ways, meeting the area where normally passenger aircraft would go towards the terminals. Instead, it came to a halt, having enough room for a takeoff as its engines remained online and to the ready. The rear cargo door lowered, and fifteen Marines came rushing out with weapons drawn on either side of the Starlifter forming a file. Five more Marines came out, protecting one individual as the Starlifter closed its rear-door and started down the run way again. The marines rushing off to the side protecting this one individual, getting out of the way as the starlifter headed down the runway and took off again.

OOC: Ret-conned, see OOC thread for reasoning.