Mad Queen's Gambit (Please Telegram for Entry, MT)

[New Edom]

Betharan Palace, Fineberg

The gesture of great and antiquated courtesy surprised the Edomites, but they did not show it out of politeness. Princess Jocasta closed her eyes and bowed formally in response, the others following suit. "And may God ever guide Taelete and all her people, and grant the wisdom, courage and strength ever to her leaders to by His grace and mercy govern," she said.

"Ah, the soldiers in the streets," said Prince Elijah as drinks were handed round by the servants. "Our country is making a slow and steady transition to an entirely civilian police force. Until that is complete, we shall have to deal with having soldiers to provide enforcement for criminal investigations, maintaining civil order." He was a serious man with a grave way of speaking, a measured manner, his words clipped and clear. "They are from the Royal Cavalry Guards and the 2nd Marine Infantry Regiment those you saw."

"It has helped keep order, we are very grateful fo our soldiers," said Princess Jocasta brightly. "I am every day deeply touched by their loyalty," she put her hand over her heart and smiled.

"The war is actually going on in the north," continued Prince Elijah. "Our main effort is aimed at capturing the industrial heart of the rebel held territory--the city of Nass and the greater area, the hub of the economy of the province of Teman. Two brigade groups of allies--Roman and Hutanjian--are attacking from the south, while we have three regiments of some of our best troops supported by fleet and Air Force elements attacking from the north through a flanking maneuver aided by an amphibious landing at Hylas Cove on the Lookinghaven coast. If this campaign succeeds, their ability to wage war should be severely curtailed and victory is assured--eventually. it should make them far more likely to accept a negotiated peace. That is the situation."

"Darling cousin, I'm sure that they were not asking for a full report" said Queen Dowager Rebecca with a smile at their guests. "They were just wondering if there was any threat of violence here."

"Oh, anything could happen, especially in a modern war," said Prince Elijah with a faint smile. "We are striking at them with missiles staged hundreds of kilometers away."

"It is in God's hands beyond ours, our courage is testament to our faith," said Princess Jocasta, putting a hand on his arm. Then she smiled at the guests. "Prince Elijah is also the man in whom we place our trust for our national leadership and defense until I come of age, but he is very plain spoken, perhaps as becomes a career naval officer."

[Ghant]

Betharan Palace
Fineberg, New Edom

From the opera hall, Prince Michael returned to Betharan Palace, all the while admiring Princess Jocasta, and also seeing to the comfort of his venerable grandmother, Isabella Orinbere. The rest of the Ghantish party deviated from him however, as they were going to the Quality Bay Estate, while Michael had business at the Palace. Following the Edomite party, he ventured to the sitting room, which had a ceiling painted light blue, salmon colored walls ordained with patterns of green leaves, and a blue rug on the floor.

Michael stood tall and proud in his white uniform, with a noticeable tan that even his grandmother saw fit to comment on. “Dear grandson, my your skin is dark! At least now, people will stop confusing you and your brother! Martin still had fair skin, like Michael used to have…at Michael’s wedding even, a foreign dignitary confused Martin for Michael after seeing Martin and Mara dance. Martin of course took that in humor and in great stride. Such confusion isn’t likely to happen again.

Also present was Elijah, dressed in a naval dinner jacket, Dr. Aphek in a dinner jacket, Rebecca in a red evening gown trimmed in gold, and Jocasta, in a soft light blue gown. Michael had to admire her discreetly, lest he give the incoming visiting dignitaries a bad impression…no doubt rumors were already spread around the world. Arietta being here doesn’t help with that. The Red Princess was very fond of social media chatter…

Even as servants stood nearby, the Edomite party was then formally introduced to the foreigners who entered the sitting room with Count Merodach, dressed in a black court uniform. "Your Royal Highnesses, Your Majesty, may I present Lord Aristarkh Zolkrovin, constable of the Taeletean League, and Holy Father Meliton Dakrelios, Metropolitan Bishop of Trazentioch. They've come as delegates of the Taeletean. Your Excellencies, you are in the presence now of Her Royal Highness Princess Jocasta, Heir of the Allied States of New Edom, of His Royal Highness Prince Elijah, Grand Admiral and Regent of New Edom; Her Royal Majesty Queen Rebecca, Dowager of New Edom and mother of the Heir; His Highness Michael of Dakmoor, King-Consort to Her Royal Majesty Queen Mara, the Sovereign and Head of State, who regrettably could not be with us tonight. And finally Dr. Paul Aphek, our Minister of Foreign Affairs."

Much to Michael’s surprise, the Taeletans bent the knee, aside from the one called Meliton, who bowed instead. Then together they spoke their introduction. "Greetings, your graces and your majesty. May God guide your steps in this life and the next." Michael noticed that they were dressed lavishly…Meliton in black robes with gold embroidery, the others in a grey suit, a white dress and a black military court uniform. Aristarkh was in an 18th century styled three layer suit. How Ghantish.

Jocasta bowed in respond and closed her eyes. “And may God ever guide Taelete and all her people, and grant the wisdom, courage and strength ever to her leaders to by His grace and mercy govern," she said. "Your Excellencies," she continued, "Welcome. Please, let us share something to drink. I understand you've gone on a little tour of Fineberg? What do you think of our capital?" There were a number of drinks available, but Michael elected to go for something non-alcoholic when the time came. He had sworn off of it for Jocasta, for although alcohol was one way he dealt with the stresses of his life to cope, his feelings for her were so great as to make him stay off of the stuff. I would gladly suffer sobriety for Jocasta, as I would suffer hell itself, he lamented as he smiled and bowed courteously after being introduced, continuing to examine the exchange at hand.

After Jocasta spoke, the Taeletans rose back to their feet, and Meliton responded to the princess. "It is a beautiful city, your Grace, I myself like old or old looking cities and Fineberg is a beautiful example of that." Michael was quick to notice that Meliton looked at him and then Jocasta, and couldn’t help but suspect that he had heard the rumors. I shouldn’t doubt it. Many of the rumors were untrue, although if Michael knew his own people well enough, there were already stories being told deep in the heart of northern Ghant by old women around fires in caves about a Prince’s doomed love for his sister-in-law. A story whose ending remains to be told.

Meliton continued, in any event. "A thing that I did notice in Fineberg today, however, were the soldiers on the streets. I thought that the war was over here in the south?"

Michael half-expected Elijah to answer that question. He was right. "Ah, the soldiers in the streets," said Prince Elijah as drinks were handed round by the servants. "Our country is making a slow and steady transition to an entirely civilian police force. Until that is complete, we shall have to deal with having soldiers to provide enforcement for criminal investigations, maintaining civil order." Elijah continued, saying, "they are from the Royal Cavalry Guards and the 2nd Marine Infantry Regiment those you saw."

"It has helped keep order, we are very grateful for our soldiers," said Princess Jocasta brightly. "I am every day deeply touched by their loyalty," she put her hand over her heart and smiled.

Not wanting to be silent the whole time, Michael nodded and spoke in Latin, his Ghantish origins evident in his accent. “Indeed, your excellencies, our soldiers have rose above and beyond the call of duty to serve Her Highness with great zeal.” Well, aside from the ones going around raping women…

Much to Michael’s amusement, Elijah continued to give a detailed account of the situation at present, to which Rebecca responded as one might have expected her to. "Darling cousin, I'm sure that they were not asking for a full report," she said with a smile. "They were just wondering if there was any threat of violence here."

"Oh, anything could happen, especially in a modern war," said Prince Elijah with a faint smile. "We are striking at them with missiles staged hundreds of kilometers away."

"It is in God's hands beyond ours, our courage is testament to our faith," said Princess Jocasta, putting a hand on his arm. Then she smiled at the guests. "Prince Elijah is also the man in whom we place our trust for our national leadership and defense until I come of age, but he is very plain spoken, perhaps as becomes a career naval officer."

Michael offered a smile as he sipped on his non-alcoholic beverage that he ensnared when the servant came around with them. “Indeed, with strong leadership and steadfast faith, I believe that all shall go well and according to plans, and we have no shortage of both here,” he said, studying the Taeletans. “There are few men more capable in testing situations then the Admiral Prince Regent, or more accomplished.” If the titles are any indictation…

[Novitera]

The Hotel, Harbourtown

The two Noviterans wrapped up their interview. Darrell clicked off the voice recorder then while Jocelyn knocked on the door for the intimidating guard to let them out. Once they were escorted outside of the building they called a cab and waited on a street corner like two lost puppies.

"Darrell, you don't have to be so...cold...insensitive." Jocelyn said breaking the silence.

That made Darrell chuckle a bit. "You heard the client. He doesn't give a fuck about what happens to him." He answered, justifying his demeanor.

"But we should care. I mean, I understand the need to not get too emotionally invested...."

"Don't be so naive Jocelyn." Darrell abruptly interjected. He turned to face her. "Look around you. This whole thing is a farce so the government can look clean. We have been setup for failure since the beginning. The only good thing that can come of this is some small victory for us to make us more employable."

"There has to be something..."

"Open your eyes and don't be so naive. There's no justice here. There's no free speech, no juries and people like me get locked up. This country is run by despots who derive their legitimacy from a monarch...They're monarchists Jocelyn!" He emphasized the distasteful word. "Don't forget that! Some people here actually believe that a 19 year old princess who would have a hard time finding a job waiting tables back home, should rule the country. It's insane!" Darrell spat then threw up his hands in frustration.

Jocelyn struggled to come up with an answer. Her eyes were beginning to water as Darrell smashed her reality. "That's their culture. Their monarchy has been in power for a long time. Plus, news say their Regent has done a good job and elections are on the way." Even though she said it, Jocelyn was not convinced. No matter how she justified it she knew in her heart that monarchy was a vile and rotten institution that had no place in the civilized world.

"Elections...please. I doubt it. Something their government promises to placate the masses. I'll have to see it to believe it. Nobody elected their Regent or any of his ministers. They were put there by the monarchy. Better an imbecile that people voted for than a tyrant." Darrell said then forced a laugh. That finally shut Jocelyn up who wiped her eyes. "We'll do our best but don't have any high expectations about what we can accomplish here."

"What about that whole idea of undermining the government and their case? You seemed quite hopeful about that. That's something." She asked.

"It's far-fetched. Just something I said to get the client to cooperate." Jocelyn looked at him angrily. "We do what we must to get the job done. It's not like I misled Malachi to his detriment. We are working for him and are looking out for his interests anyways. That's the job." Darrell said sternly.

"Don't overestimate your cunning." Jocelyn replied. Darrell smiled at that. The sooner she got rid of this ridiculous attitude that they had a chance to really serve the public good, the better.

Their cab arrived. They climbed in to request they be taken to the Palace of the Ethnarch. Jocelyn tipped the cab driver handsomely as they got out to walk up to the front. They presented their passport identification to the guards. "Counsel for Mister Malachi Damien, here to see the Attorney-General."

[New Edom]

The Palace of the Ethnarch, Harbourtown

The Palace of the Ethnarch was a neoclassical building with wide granite steps, a pillared portico and a grand dome as the center. Within, you came into a foyer where the floor had a geometric pattern of crosses surrounding a Da Vincean image of the world with the legend Urbi et Orbi on the side facing approachers and the Chi-Rho symbol on the other. Above, blue and golden glass panels shed stained light down onto the floor. Guards in parade dress uniforms stood about with rifles and stern expressions. People went to and fro quietly. At a large polished granite desk like that of a fancy bank teller's line stood an official in a white suit and a red carnation in the lapel, his face lined and slightly seamed with middle age, with a grave expression, a long nose and a light olive Baran complexion with smooth slicked back sleek combed hair and bfocals, who looked at the two lawyers.

"No appointment," he announced, looking in a large leather bound book. "I'm afraid I don't understand the reason for your wishing to see His Excellency."

Upon hearing their explanation, he considered them thoughtfully a moment. "That seems beneath the Attorney-General's pay grade if you will pardon my bluntness...oh no, wait...we are Noviterans, aren't we...we appreciate bluntness, don't we? Very well then. I doubt that His Excellency will want to see you, and see no reason why he should, but I will make a minimal effort towards seeing if an appointment is possible. There are benches over there. Make use of one, and I will let you know if an appointment is possible. Or go elsewhere, I care not where." he smiled thinly. "Will that suffice?"

[Novitera]

Palace of the Ethnarch

While entering the building Jocelyn took the time to look around while Darrell seemed to be searching for exactly where they needed to go.

"Right. Minimal effort seems to be a recurring trend around here when it comes to the justice system at least. I wouldn't want you to work too hard asshole." Darrell said smugly. "I was under the impression that the Attorney-General was handling all the cases. Who would that be then? Perhaps the prosecuting judges?" He asked.

Jocelyn interrupted with a bit more tact. "Whoever you can get us an appointment with will do please. Sorry about my colleague" She pleaded then pulled Darrell away. They went over to the benches.

"You didn't have to say that you know." Jocelyn remarked as they sat down.

"Fuck him. A job is a precious thing. I'm suppose to be all cheery to somebody with a minimal effort attitude like that? He disrespects himself and his profession so he'll get no respect from me." He retorted quite satisfied with himself. Jocelyn sighed in response.

Both went to work right away on their phones reading up what they can on Edomite laws and court procedure. Frank had told them to do that as much as possible. Everything would be a crash course from here on out.

[New Edom]

The Battle for Nass

Lieutenant-General Felicity Romain's expedition had run into some snags. Apparently a regiment strength unit, possibly more, of the Teman Division, had placed itself in ambush positions. Lieutenant-Colonel Havoth-Jair suspected that this unit, the 4th Regiment of the Teman Motorized Infantry Division, was strung along key ambush points and had used the advancing mechanized battalion to draw them in.

Lieutenant-Colonel Sarah Wendt proposed that if this was the case, they could isolate them and simply pound them with naval and air force attacks while pressing on to Nass. Romain agreed, and said she wanted the 21st Lancers and 9th Marine Infantry to probe the areas. The main bodies of the 9th and the Royal Cavalry Guards were to continue advancing on Nass.

Weber marveled at this; clearly the intelligence from before had proved to be somewhat inaccurate; clearly ambushes were out there, clearly there was the possibility of the whole assault being slowed down and even halted, which might make it possible for other rebel units to surround the 10,000 strong expedition. But Romain simply ordered the advance to continue and for intelligence and recon missions on the ground to be deployed.

They halted and joined up with Colonel Horlon's 9th Marine Infantry field HQ. In spite of all the troops around, Weber stroked her rifle and imagined having to save the general's life.

21st Lancers: Village of Kavass

Cicadas and crickets buzzed relentlessly, only occasionally drowned out by machine noises in the brush country around the village. The village occupied a valley and parts of two of the hills surrounding it, largely made up of a variety of newer buildings, having been rebuilt after the First Civil War by foreign aid money. It had some corrugated roof huts, some trailers, some old fashioned thatched huts, various garden plots.

Citizens were getting in the way, running around, now and then rushing out to grab kids or move to shelter, having been startled by the unexpected battle, unexpected by both sides, as motorized infantry from the Teman Division sought cover in the little ravines and copses to try to shoot down approaching helicopters from the Lancers. A badly damaged TH-300 Lakota utility helicopter lay on its side, smouldering in a millet field.

Captain Zeldorinius' TH-300 was taking off from its LZ to help provide overwatch cover for the rest of his company which were advancing rapidly on foot. Of course this had happened when his Incursors had to refuel and rearm. Of course. Well, that was the job. The battle scarred A Company commander checked his ammunition and signals as the helicopter went shaking and rattling into the sky.

The tailgunner shouted out the position of a squad of light infantry rushing across a road; he opened fire, his gatling gun streaming rounds down, dust rising in puffs around the road and men dropping here and there. There were puffs and proximity warnings as an enemy unit with MANPADs targeted them; the beeping alarms were going off as the helicopter strained to dodge, countermeasurs flying out around it; an impact but the bird was still in the air, everyone shaken a bit.

Meanwhile, a too eager platoon commander, taking point and knowing the company commander was probably watching, moved a little too incautiously through a wooded ravine and snapped a tripwire setting off a claymore that tore into him and the RTO following him, both went down screaming in agony and the rest of the platoon was forced to cover as hidden machineguns and light mortars began to target them.

The Village of Sheoth: 21st Lancers

B Company, by contrast, completely surprised the Teman Division's battalion HQ and supply unit in the next valley and swiftly gained the high ground. It was an unexpeced windfall partly due to the actions of a drone operator who had reported what she hoped was an intelligence blessing. It turned out to be the right hunch; Colonel Weber of the 21st Lancers had an instinct for these things and immediately deployed a company there which using their attack helicopter flight for support devastated the defenses and overran the position with a minimum of casualties.

Saint Lucas Station

A rail station and factory warehouse station called Saint Lucas, which had a small village mostly of the workers, their families and services such as mechanics, carpenters, masons and a small quarry had been approached in the pre-dawn hours of the morning by a Rover Team unit which was to prepare to soften things up for the Marine Infantry battalion that would be striking at the area. Shortly after this the Royal Cavalry Guards were to arrive to provide direct fire support.

However the area was surrounded by parkland, owned by a wealthy philanthropist who had decided it would make the industrial village more pleasant to live in, and this provided ample concealment. The Rover Team had run into a veteran ETC militia unit, alerted by some locals who had discreetly contact the local army HQ, and just before the Marine Infantry battalion arrived, the Rover team were pinned down. ETC heavy weapons drove them to move their cover and they were caught in crossfire, dying nearly to a man under mortar, machinegun and grenade launcher fire.

Captain Shadrach Shobal, leading in D Company on point, not receiving confirmation of their position, contacted Colonel Horlon and wondered what he ought to do. Horlon was aware of General Romain standing nearby looking over a map and said into the radio, "Captain, orders are to advance. Is there a possibility you misunderstood them, sir?"

"No, Colonel, but the LZ is supposed to be--"

"Captain,m this is not the Field of Saint Michael where we only march on parade when all units are there. We go rain or shine; we're Marine Infantry. Do I need to have C Company lead the advance?" Horlon said sharply.

"No, sir!" snapped Shobal back. Heretic sniffing sack of... "Alright, ladies, let's move with a purpose."

"Do we have confirmation of the position?" asked Lieutenant Kiron.

"Sir, should we not confirm--" began the company First Sergeant.

"When I want your opinions I'll give them to you," growled Shobal. Shit flows downhill. "Move out!"

The platoons advanced in staggered skirmish formation towards the position, APCs and scout vehicles crawling along, Marine Infantrymen dismounted. Shobal insisted on taking point himself. He felt it was his duty.

He went down as rounds began going off around them as they approached the northern road towards the village. Kiron gasped in horror and ran to him, but Shobal was merely in pain and knocked down having had rounds impact on his armour; he was alive and no bullet had pierced him.

"Take cover, find some cover!" roared the First Sergeant, Noyeed, going to ground himself in a ditch; Marine Infantry were scattering off the roads or hiding behind APCs, whose heavy weapons began chattering and thundering responses.

"Tell those sons of Judas to shoot straight, try to hit something damn it," snapped Shobal, crawling off the road himself, grabbing his field glasses. "Tell Horlon the position's been overrun," he ordered his RTO. "Kiron, get us some fire support."

Teman-Bara Border

Fot the main body of the ETC, it was hell on Earth, as bad as any they had experienced. Heavy artillery rounds were howling out of the air and slamming into the earth; in their wake came showers of marsh muck like geysers or blinding whirling dust and smoke, sound swallowed up. Men were washed in one another's blood and guts as nearby militia simply exploded. Men and boys screamed, moaned or passed out, lying mutilated, legs or arms torn up, some of them cut in half.

Elder Brother Ephraim tried to coordinate a response; he tried to have one unit fall back from the Rangers, clearly a veteran unit and cool under fire, to enable another to hit their flank, so that he could halt the other. But any concentrated fire seemed to be swiftly hit due to enemy air recon, and so this had to be fast hit and run actions. No sustained firefights, he ordered his subordinates, just fast and use the terrain, keep moving, don't stop for anything.

But how long could they keep this up? The point was, he reminded them, to get to the border and cross it. Then they could resupply and keep fighting.

Ephraim ordered "Onward Christian Soldiers" played on an open channel for all to hear.

"Only use of 60mm mortars for now," he ordered. The idea was that they should only fire these light weapons which could be more swiftly set up and then moved than the larger 82mm that would take more time and expose the heavy weapons teams.

Riflemen and grenadiers were split into smaller units and told to stay fast on their feet. This was the kind of fighting that they were used to. They had no fear of getting filthy with the muck, they had no fear of being away from higher command. They were afraid of being hurt; many were grievously injured already. and would be abandoned with blessings with an impromptu field hospital.

Elder Brother Ephraim knew the truth though. They were in danger of being surrounded; they had to break out. The fight going on currently could not last. They lacked air support, heavy artillery, armour or ammunition. They even lacked batteries and food. The strongest, fastest and most experienced units might survive if they made a dash for the border. First he had to slow down and fend off the present attack, then slip the best units away....

[New Edom]

Palace of the Ethnarch

The official's smile vanished at the use of vulgar language, and his eyes narrowed at Darrell. He continued to watch the two of them with malice as they went away, then after a bit picked up his phone and began to make use of it.

After a little bit a younger man wearing a light blue suit jacket and a red and green striped tie approached them and said, "Excuse me, you are the Noviteran lawyers for Brother Malachi yes? Please come this way."

They were led down a hallway and to a wooden door which had a name plate recently removed. It was opened to reveal a woman with shoulder length raven hair, horn rimmed glasses, a long but handsome face wearing a uniform that rather resmbled that of the prison guards with different insignia sitting behind a desk. There were two old fashioned rolling armchairs there as well, and a jug of water. A kepi sat on the desk. There were small portraits of the Heir, the Regent, and Christ on the wall. A filing cabinet stood in a corner, and a laptop sat on the desk plugged into the wall. An aluminium fan blew in a continuous circle of the room.

"How do you both do?" the woman asked with a friendly smile. "All the way from Novitera, it must grieve your families that you are so far away! Would you care for some water--or I can send for some tea if you'd like, perhaps a soda drink..." she would insist on offering them some kind of hospitality, and would be disappointed though would move on pleasantly if they refused.

Regardless, she then said, "I am Ruthan Demetrios, an official of the Ministry of Police on secondment to the Ministry of Justice, and a senior investigating official in some of the high profile cases in Harbourtown. I hope you have found a good hotel to stay in, if you have not let me recommend you one. It's terribly important to be well rested and have decent food. The food at the Lemon Swan Hotel is wonderful--the hotel itself nothing to write home about, but the food! Fyllo pastry to give you dreams of bliss, the spanikopita is amazing! Let me write you down the address..."

[Novitera]

Palace of the Ethnarch

The Noviterans gave the customary greetings. A hello, nice to meet you and introducing themselves by name was all. Jocelyn commented that she liked the Ruthan's glasses. It was polite enough by their standards. She saw the portraits on the wall which brought a flashback to her earlier conversation with Darrell about despots and monarchs. His words echoed in her head.

"How about some water." Jocelyn answered.

"Yes, water would be nice." Darrell added though was not aware of the Edomite norms. He truly did just want some water.

It was too hot for tea or coffee at this time. Darrell was annoyed by her chatter and hospitality saying nothing in response. He just nodded at Ruthan with a poker face as she suggested the Lemon Swan. Jocelyn did the same with a bit more enthusiasm. "Our families would rather we do something productive even if it has to be away from home. Isn't that right Darrell?" Jocelyn answered.

"Right." He responded quickly. Clearly family was a subject was a sensitive topic for him.

"My older brother has lived in Puerto Rojo for the last five years and my father regularly goes on business trips to Strana Mechty so the family is use to being apart. " Jocelyn continued.

"Do you mind if we have a seat Miss Demetrios? There's a few things we need to go over concerning Mister Malachi Damien's case." Darrell asked.

[New Edom]

The Palace of the Ethnarch

"How about some water." Jocelyn answered.

"Yes, water would be nice." Darrell added though was not aware of the Edomite norms. He truly did just want some water.

Ruthan got up and got them each a cup of water from the water cooler and handed it to them. Then she sat down again.

. "Our families would rather we do something productive even if it has to be away from home. Isn't that right Darrell?" Jocelyn answered.

"Right." He responded quickly. Clearly family was a subject was a sensitive topic for him.

"My older brother has lived in Puerto Rojo for the last five years and my father regularly goes on business trips to Strana Mechty so the family is use to being apart. " Jocelyn continued.

"Ah, how interesting, your family lives quite far apart!" exclaimed Ruthan. "Ah, but that must be difficult. Still Puerto Rojo! How lovely, one hears such things from it, and so many Adiran television shows and movies seem to take place there do they not?"

"Do you mind if we have a seat Miss Demetrios? There's a few things we need to go over concerning Mister Malachi Damien's case." Darrell asked.

"I had wondered why you were not sitting already, thought it was some odd Noviteran custom," said Ruthan Demetrios. "Well, you seem in a bit of a hurry so we'll get on with things then. And it is Most Holy Elder Brother Malachi for legal purposes here, better get used to saying that," she added. "Anyway please do sit down. What things did you want to go over?"

[Hutanjia]

EARLIER IN FINEBERG

They sat in the dark Diamond Star Tambora, winding its way through typical Fineberg traffic. The car had diplomatic plates, but prudently his Ranger security detail had removed the Hutanjian flags from the hood. Despite all that continued to occur not too far to the West and North, people went about their daily lives. Orange work cones stood around a road repair crew, trucks steaming and smoking, men and women in coveralls repairing potholes in the street. Two teachers with a line of children between them waited to cross a street, the children uniformed in red shorts and white shirts and sandals, the teachers in light blue dress shirts and a knee length skirt and long black shorts respectively. People--some in light tropical clothing such as blouses, shirts and slacks or skirts, some only partly dressed, some naked and painted, lined up for the lovely new blue and white buses that had been brought in by the Touchstone government and had flourished under Pahath-Moab. The larger shelters were handsome and comfortable, sheltered from rain and wind if need be and had little blue boxes displaying the Fineberg Times That fateful rag that had started this whole backlash against the Hutanjian military machine in action in Northwestern New Edom. Ambassador Andrelanu Eptando turned his lip up at as he saw one of the delivery trucks bringing bundles of the newspaper to local markets and bus stands. It turned the corner and he moved his attention back to his fellow passengers. Major Bosamto had a glazy look as he watched out the car window. His aide, a young lieutenant, looked expectantly at Eptando instead of out of the car as everyone else did. It was a bit unnerving.
The Ambassador’s aide was driving the luxury car and focused on his task, doing his best not to plow over pedestrians or crunch into sudden stopping commuters.

Then they were at their destination. Of many splendorous buildings in the capital of the Allied States, Eptando still felt very attached to this one. Not just because it was the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, but for it’s traditional classic architecture. The granite, the pillars, the stern, squared facade and the grand entrance, it was what all government buildings aspired to be, although some fell well short.

“Sir, I think you should all get out and go ahead and I will get the car parked and join you.” Counselor Javalko said over his shoulder.

Ambassador Eptando nodded. They all clambered out of the car and began the journey up the steps. It was the usual routine upon arriving for meetings at the Ministry, he thought as the Major opened the door and shadowed him up the stairs, with the oddly attentive Ranger Lieutenant following. The difference now was that he had rarely talked to Dr. Aphek, and not about such a controversial topic that could effect future relations between the two nations.

All three men carried substantial briefcases filled with reports on the cases in question. Not that there were numerous documented cases, but that each one they had sniffed out had been as thoroughly investigated as well as the Military Police and Major’s staff, as well as the Embassy could possibly do, independently of the Edomites. Some were multiple copies that they could all review, and some for handing out to any of the assembled Edomites that might happen to be in this meeting. They also had personal electronic tablets, tucked into side pockets of the valises.

They reached the doors, showed their credentials and were ushered into the lobby. They waited for the security to call up to Aphek’s office, to let him know they had arrived. When given the signal, their party was escorted up to his office.

Dr. Paul Aphek, Minister of Foreign Affairs, was a distinguished looking man with olive tanned skin, wavy neatly combed hair with distinguished grey in the darkness, wearing a light grey suit and light blue tie, who welcomed them when they were shown into his office by one of his aides. With him was Elizabeth Corbulo, Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs, the senior civil servant, a short energetic woman with an hourglass figure wearing a red dress belted with a green sash; she had a traditional Leck dutch boy style raven bob and a friendly merry sort of face. She was sitting across from a stout man with thinning hair exposing a bald scalp, a sharp little nose and a round plump soft face with glasses, Basil Jerome, the Undersecretary for Transmarine Affairs, wearing a pinstripe suit and purple tie. Also present were two military officers. One was Commander Elisha Bashan, who was on the Regent’s staff, a nearly bald homely but stern looking officer who seemed to hold his own rather well even though he was technically outranked by the other Edomite officials, the other was a middle aged serious looking officer with glasses wearing Army parade dress (tie, tunic jacket, blouse, a long skirt, formal low heeled shoes, billed cap sitting on the table near her) who was Major Sima Pall of the Judge-Advocate-General’s office. Introductions and exchanges of bows all round.

“Your Excellency, Counselor, Major, and all, welcome,” said Dr. Aphek. “I am glad that you could meet with me on such short notice. I hope you are all well. Please do take some refreshments. What can we offer my guests?” he asked the aide.

“We may offer mint tea, either hot or chilled, excellent Nalayan coffee just brewed, mineral or spring water, and these just arrived,” said the aide, gesturing as a steward brought in a tray of dainties. There were small pastries stuffed with cheese and nuts, halvah, baklava, ginger honey almonds as well.

“Ah excellent,” said Dr. Aphek as scents both sweet and savory rose up from the tray. Small plates and napkins with laid out as well. “Please if there is anything else I can offer…”

Ambassador Andrelanu Eptando nodded as his party entered the office. In comparison to their hosts, they were similarly dressed, with Eptando wearing his best dark grey suit and a tie that represented the national colors with swirled green, white and maroon. Major Bosamto and his Lieutenant aide were wearing their dress uniforms, which were a light olive color, with decorations and maroon shoulder tabs for ranks. They had removed their berets in the lobby upon entering the Ministry. Eptando’s aide had joined them as well.

Thinking that they were in for a bit of a meeting, the men chose their drinks rather than abstain.
They deferred to the Ambassador,
“I will have some of that mint tea, please.”

The Major put his order in,
“I will have just a spring water.”

The Lieutenant and Counselor Javalko asked for coffee and took a water, respectively. They all took a treat from the offered tray.

The Ambassador noted that everyone was seated and hadn’t stood up to bow, or make any formal greetings. He filed that detail away as a flag he could identify from part of his diplomatic training and long experience. This was going to be serious business. He led the way as the Hutanjians found their way to available chairs.
“Thank you, Dr. Aphek, for being able to arrange this meeting and see us. I know you have a busy schedule, but we do appreciate you all taking the time.”

“My dear Ambassador, it is a pleasure to see you in somewhat less formal setting than last we met,” said Dr. Aphek with calm pleasantness. “I hope your wife is well? Forgive me, I don’t know, do you have children?”

“It is good indeed, but the circumstances aren’t as desirable as we’d like. Serala is well, thank you.” She was both his partner in marriage and at the Embassy, taking her role as his second in command, Charge d’Affairs, very seriously. Normally in diplomatic circles, the position was a temporary one to fill in for the Ambassador, but the Hutanjians had made it the permanent Second in Command spot, at least in the Fineberg Embassy instance.
“We do have children, but they are all grown. One is studying in Neu Engollon at Burgunden University and the others are on Nevorn, with families, our precious grandchildren...and businesses to run. How about yourself?”

“I am glad to hear that they are well grown and are in a good school,” said Dr. Aphek. “I have, alas, I have alas, neither chick nor child. I have devoted my life to service of the Obed family. My own family…” he looked slightly sad though he smiled, “Has been rather troubled, and I’m afraid rather distant. But King James II, who established the close alliance with your nation, was a personal friend before he became King and I have been devoted as I said to his family since before then. I was tutor to both Queen Mara and to Princess Jocasta. I also spent a great deal of time traveling with King James. The Obed family in a sense adopted me, and I consider myself something of a godparent to both the young royal ladies.”

Andrelanu Eptando nodded and paused for just a spare moment. He didn’t have to dig far for appropriate words to say,
“Ah, well. You know...they say ‘The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Love is what makes a family.’ Not sure who said that, but it is an appropriate quote here, I think. You have quite the family tree, for sure. You did not call us here to talk about families though...at least, not our own....”

“Oh what a pity, we were having such a nice little chat,” said Dr. Aphek mildly. “Well some other time perhaps. Yes, we did want to talk about how to best handle the public disclosure--unfortunate how that happened--about the attacks on civilians in the area of Jabbok. Well, a few incidents here or there--that could be called a lapse of character perhaps, or an instance of wanton brutality by a bad apple or two. But three hundred or so...the Heir was very upset. She has a great love for your people, schooled in that by her late father who was a strong supporter of the development of the Hutanjian-Edomite alliance. And so many in the operations of...er the…”

“Area of Operations,” said Commander Bashan. “It is not just the issue of the actions that took place in the heat of the action of course. There’s the photographs during interrogations, abusive remarks made to both male and female civilians in the area between Jabbok and Salcah leading up to the action.”

“These sorts of operations are notoriously difficult,” said Commander Bashan gravely. “But it seems that some tension, some prejudice perhaps existed beforehand. The Regent had asked me to inquire as to whether any of you would be kind enough to clear that up before the commission is formally appointed to investigate the matter.”

Ambassador Eptando sat quietly, the color suddenly going lighter in his face as he tried to keep his jaw from dropping.

Major Bosamto cleared his throat, and jumped in as he saw the Ambassador falter.
“Eherm...Some of these allegations are news to me....and 300?! I think that’s quite a largely inflated number. I did a lot of the investigations into these reports, as requested by Colonel Hudagku, and there was nothing like that number of incidents that I came across, either reported or rumored. These were very isolated, random incidents that were latched onto firmly by rabblerousers in your media.
As to prejudice, I’m not sure that I understand what you’re getting at, Commander. We have the utmost respect for Edomites, both your military and your civilian people...but for a ‘few bad apples’ as was said before. I think that there’s enough of your people that saw action in our nation during our...troubles, that know how some of our people are a bit...isolated and backwoods. Exposure to other cultures came through Falkasians and Edomites storming through their villages during the war...You know, I think…”

“That’s good right there, Major.” Eptando had recovered enough to swoop in and come to the rescue. He recognized that the HRA officer was heading down a wrong track in the last minute.
“I think that there isn’t any such prejudice, Commander. That’s a false perception. Now, what would this commission entail? Why does there need to be a formal investigation? I think this might be detrimental to the relations between our two nations, possibly causing irreparable harm. Now, I know that some of these incidents of Hutanjian soldier brutality on Edomite civilian or prisoner could certainly have started the ball rolling on such damaged relations, but...Do we need to add more fuel to the fire? Really, isn’t this outrage all stemming from a biased journalist? Have you received numerous incident reports to justify such a commission?”
At that point, Eptando reined it in even though he had more questions, as he didn’t want to overwhelm them or trigger their disdain.

Dr. Aphek looked from ambassador to major occasionally during the conversation, his appearance fairly calm but now and then shaking his head. “No no, there is no thought of any hostility at all, there is no desire to condemn...merely repeating the statistics that have been presented so far, nothing in the way of...no no…”

“The Regent wants the commission to be a standard commission looking into military irregularities, that’s all. It has to be very clear that neither our nor your senior officers in any way condoned or encouraged mistreatment of prisoners or civilians.” Bashan said quietly. “Now of course Major your natural reaction is going to be ‘why would they?’ And I hope you understand, it is to eliminate any possibility that a peace process might take place. This is part of a constitutional crisis, the Regent has emphasized, not a battle merely for territory or for separation from the Allied States. The commission would consist entirely of military officers and would be entirely acting as an investigative body observing the process by which the Hutanjian command in New Edom handles the irregularities.”

“Ambassador, does that satisfy your concerns?” asked Elizabeth Corbulo.

"Mmhmm." Eptando sipped at his tea before putting it back down. The other Hutanjians took to their drinks, too.
"I suppose it does to a degree...I have two more questions, though, for right now. Will Hutanjian officers be serving on this commission? And will Edomite military, or Roman for that matter...infractions also be investigated?"

Major Bosamto looked at the Ambassador with a new found respect. He was more glad by the minute that the diplomatic officer was along for this. He would certainly be in over his head, had he been the sole voice of the delegation.

“It will consist of New Edomite officers. We have no business actually conducting an investigation of your troops’ actions,” said Commander Bashan. “It is entirely to observe and communicate and speak with your officers who conduct any investigation. We will do our own investigation directly of our own personnel as there are concerns about that, too.”

“Ambassador, Major, Counselor,” said Dr. Aphek to each in turn, “I hope you are all satisfied with this conversation as I am. We want complete openness about this. The Heir’s view of this is that our alliance is rock solid, that what her father began she will continue. The Regent has expressed the same thoughts. The honour, the reputation, the professionalism of the Hutanjian officer is beyond dispute in our minds. The newspapers rattle their cages and the caravan moves on.”

Elizabeth Corbulo didn’t bother trying to sort out that rather mixed analogy and said with a smile, “They’re so often poorly informed, get their sources from who knows where…”

“Indeed, I recall how one supposed informed source was named describing a tank attack on a village. The ‘tanks’ were APCs,” said Bashan with a smile.

Bosamto, as a fellow sympathizing military officer, smiled.
“Ah yes, I remember during the Cardwithian War how our press would refer to company and battalion actions as whole divisions and armies on the move. We don’t even use divisions...It actually worked to our advantage as it seemed to confuse the Cards and Falkie intel as much as us.”

Eptando nodded and smirked.
“I think that definitely gets to the heart of some of the inflated nature of these allegations...Again...not saying that incidents didn’t happen, but not to the degree as is being trumpeted by…them.
Anyway...Yes, I think this will be satisfactory for now. I would like to continue to be informed on progress and kept in the loop. I am glad to know that we are still highly regarded by the Regent and Heir, the rightful government of the Allied States. That is especially comforting to know in light of this perceived backlash. I will be honest that I wasn’t included in the decision to send military support for these internal troubles, but I am put in the position of ensuring our honor, integrity and ideals come through intact, both for the Republic and the Hutanjian people. You are handling the situation well, and I have to trust that Colonel Hudagku is also giving this issue the serious attention it deserves. I think that is the case after my interaction with Major Bosamto here over the last couple days. I think we can put this behind us and hopefully avoid future incidents.”

Counselor Javalko was typing on his tablet and lifting his head every so often as he took the notes. The aide for Bosamto, the young Lieutenant, still was rapt with attentiveness, barely moving in his seat or changing expression. Ambassador Eptando glanced over him as he said the last bit. He still wondered why the junior officer had come along at all, but for appearances. Major Bosamto was still sitting in a formal position, but had noticeably relaxed as the conversation had progressed.

“That is something else I’d like to mention sir,” said Commander Bashan. “The Regent also wishes me to convey that he echoes General Romain’s remark that Colonel Hugdaku’s role in leading the Hutanjian forces at Jabbok was one of the keys to success in the campaign to capture Harbourtown, and agreed that his actions were ‘exemplary’. His very words. Without the success of the attack on the rebel Eastern Brigade, Harbourtown could not have been captured.”

“Well said, Commander,” said Dr. Aphek.

“And of course there will be a formal request that Colonel Hudagku forward any recommendations for commendations to us,” Bashan added with a smile.

Elizabeth Corbulo cleared her throat and looked at him, and the Minister said, “Ah well I’m afraid we need to wrap things up now, but I did want to extend an invitation to the Palace to you, Mr. Ambassador, and to those present to a soiree which will be held for representatives of the allied effort at ending the rebellion, which the Heir would like to hold. Invitations will be sent out formally.” He stood up as did the others and bows were offered.

Eptando nodded solemnly. Unlike the Hutanjian military authorities and the Green Villa (Presidential residence and seat of government), he was not a big fan of the military intervention of the Republic’s armed forces in the internal conflict. He was convinced that no good would come of it, but so far, other than the incidents in question they were meeting about, he was not confirmed in his beliefs. He would continue to hold his peace on the subject, though, as it was contrary to official Hutanjian government sympathies and policy.
“Thank you all. This has been most productive and fruitful a session. I accept your invitation to the Palace, gladly.”

Major Bosamto had also stood up and exchanged bows. He was satisfied with the proceedings, but winced at the mention of the soiree, as it would further take him away from pressing duties in Jabbok/Salcah and the Hutanjian occupation forces of the 1st RCT.
“I am also happy with the turnout here, although I feel I must decline the invitation as I am already overdue back at my command. I will send a Captain in my stead.” The Ambassador was relieved to hear the awkward Lieutenant would be returning also to Jabbok.
“I will pass along the decisions to the Colonel, as well as your commendations. We will confer on official battle commendations together, but I’m sure at the top of the list would be Captain Roendorf, who has filled the third in command role well during operations. I think we could come up with others…”

The Ambassador added on to the Major,
“It would be nice to have some positive recognition for our military contribution in the Edomite public eye, to counteract this negative publicity.”

The Major glanced at the Ambassador neutrally, but nodded along.
“Thank you for hearing us out, Sirs and Madams. We will be off then.”

A few more pleasantries were exchanged, but the main business was concluded and they headed out. The Ambassador, Major and their party were escorted out of the Ministry. When they reached the lobby, Counselor Javalko went to retrieve the Tambora while they waited. Each man was deep in his own thoughts about the meeting. There would be time to talk in the Embassy car.

“The car is pulling up.”

“We will take the lead, Ambassador. Hang close to the lieutenant.”
Bosamto pointed to the lieutenant, who only nodded and smiled. The three headed down the steps to the dark luxury car. The precautions were unnecessary as their journey back to the Hutanjian embassy was as uneventful as their arrival.

---

TEMAN-BARA BORDER

Rangers and troopers continued to drop from enemy mortar rounds exploding among them. Casualties ranged from mild to fatal, as even their body armor couldn’t save their heads and major arteries from constantly insidious zinging shrapnel.

As fast as the ETC mortar teams were identified, air support, the HTH-203 mobile mortars, and artillery were called in. Ranger teams continued to roam out to hunt down the rebel sniper, mortar and marksmen teams, as the other troops of Emerald Group moved up from the 10th and 28th Regiments, including the new reinforcements dropped off from Jabbok of the incident suspected troopers.
When out of range of the retaliatory barrages or Ranger teams, the LIRCAS and Super Etendards of the 12th CAS Squadron were vectored in via Howler One to pound on the offending resisters.

Small groups of IFVs, APCs, GAZ’s with mounted heavy weapons and other vehicles rolled on and began to add their lead to the mass fire downstream at the ETC guerrillas that could be caught out or identified by IR or thermal scanning.

Captain Roendorf shook his head as he had his company on the move. Progress was steady, but they couldn’t afford this attrition if there were to be many more battles like this. Head on attacking into a fluid guerrilla force was not the most ideal circumstance. Colonel Hudagku agreed.
“Captain, I want your group to start a flanking maneuver to the East. I will be working on a distraction on my end. Begin on my mark.”

“Roger that, Colonel. Hold.”
Roendorf switched to his Company net and set their part of the plan in motion, then switched back over.
“Yes, sir. We’ll be ready.”

“Watch for our choppers. Over.”

“Yes, sir. Over and out.”

Hudagku had all available Ranger teams, scouts and marksmen relieved by regular troopers. Five gunships were pulled back, while the UH-100 transports were called back. They needed to force a landing behind the ETC lines, in order to disrupt them. Either they would link up with the air assault teams, or Captain Roendorf’s flanking attack would.
Within 30 minutes, the first teams were loading up on to the helicopters.

[New Edom]

The Battle for Nass

The Cavalry Guards

The Royal Cavalry Guards 1st and 2nd Squadrons surged forward through the rolling hill country and farmland of southern Lookinghaven towards Nass. Unknown to them the 4th Motor Infantry Regiment's leaders already anticipated their next move and retreated to their stronghold which was deemed impossible to take by an armored force. Anti-tank mines, obstacles, and the ambush zones that had already slowed the advance of the flanking units of Lancers and Marines presented enormous danger to the armoured force. Once arriving at the area, Count Falk and Major Zadek studied the terrain with UAV and AWACs support.

The ravines and little valleys in the area would be a nightmare to deal with since the enemy had already invested the area. They had been had.

"What is going on up there?" fumed General Romain into the radio. "Get those nonbelieving fatherless yokels moving, Colonel!"

Count Falk, the regimental commander, smarted under the rebuke. "General, I respectfully must advise that our recon elements have run into a number of minefields backed up by ambushes with anti tank weapons. This could be a slaughter."

"Don't teach your grandmother to suck eggs, you shirt lifting swine. Now get that outfit moving. Find a way or I'll have you replaced," she snapped and clicked off.

Falk felt shocked, he'd never been spoken to that way in his life. Always the darling of the Obed family, always in the Guards, he'd never been sworn at in such a manner. Rebuked, yes, but always in a gentlemanly manner. Damned Cornellian bitch he thought, in white fury.

"We have to advance. But how?" he said to Zadek, who was glancing at him from the little commanders' conference he had called. He realized his voice was shaking, and he calmed himself a little.

Zadek was more of a veteran; Falk had seen light service in the civil wars, Salcah and Harbourtown had been his first major actions. Zadek said brusquely, "Count, we must start pinning down the enemy with artillery. Romain is hard as nails, and her cunt is ice, but we will prevail, we have the best armoured regiment in the nation. Strike with artillery at their positions, pin them down, and move in the engineers, we'll find a way through. Dismount all infantry and call for more to support our advance. Right now, Count, we can advance, and if we promise Romain that she will commit all reserves available to us to push through."

Falk smashed his fist into his hand. "You're right, Major! Alright, let's all for all our attached artillery and request rocket support and air support from Romain."

Romain refused the air support; she wanted to hammer a village or two that had slowed the Marines and Lancers down. "One battery of ASTROS II," she told Colonel Adrocles, the artillery commander.

Within a few minutes, howitzer rounds and MRLS rockets began to hammer the enemy positions, also striking at the minefields to tear them up. Engineer units were moving up but wouldn't be there for half an hour. A company of Lancers were ordered to land nearby and provide infantry support.

At the sharp end, Lieutenant Count Alexander Domris, his tank platoon concealed behind bluffs and in vegetation, watched from a concealed position with field glasses as the earth was torn, explosions rippled along the hills. Soon he'd have to go in there. His mouth was dry; he reached into a pouch and took out some gum and put it in his mouth. Lemon. He hated the lemon one, but at least it kept him from choking. Suddenly, he was afraid. A terrible fear of the tank hitting a mine, or an APILAS round firing through the side and striking the ammunition or fuel. He began to pray. He had no idea why this fear had come over him so awfully, so vividly, it was just there. He must not let the men see him afraid. So many images flooded into his mind, unbidden; he couldn't help but think too of what he had heard of the decimation of the 15th Hussars, a unit still not quite recovered from the Hutanjian war, an entire squadron nearly wiped out, another taking horrendous casualties, having to abandon vehicles, shelled and hammered to bits. Roasting alive, suffocating in vehicles.

Accept it, a still inner voice inside him said. Accept your likely death in battle. That is part of why you are here. It was like a dark door that beckoned to him. Accept. Accept.

He opened this door in his soul. And in the cool darkness of it, something in him awoke. His belly became calm, his heart slowed, and he raised his field glasses to his eyes again, and new cold eyes watched the hills exploding with artillery, and a strange thrill woke in him, an excitement that was both intense and chilly at the same time.

Teman-Bara Border

From the ETC point of view, the battle was nerve wracking. Admittedly, not all the heavier action immediately killed the militia, but it was hair raising to suddenly find that heavy machinegun, autocannon and other heavy weapons fire was pounding at your position from enemy vehicles that had been rushed up, or that mortar vehicles, protected by armour and by units of infantry and air cover, were outgunning your own meager artillery, hammering your zone with rounds whistling down terrifyingly. In a sense the enemy were faster, able to move more force more quickly.

In another sense they were less so. Off the roads, in the tall marshy grasses and shrugs that were in some cases tall as a man, only a precise location from above or nearby with IR would see them readily; they were also moving in smaller groups, to avoid being pinned down. At this point in the battle, most of the casualties were almost random, especially with the veteran Rangers being moved. There was no way for the ETC to know this of course.

The Commander, Elder Brother Ephraim, now ordered a fighting retreat to the north. The units would move in staggered skirmishes, doing a larger scale version of an "ulster twist" to fall back.

The Rover Team had done their work before and had fallen back to stay out of the way, but Captain Victor Radu had moved them north and kept them concealed, avoiding actual combat. He had no idea what the ETC were planning exactly, but figured some strays might go that way. He chose a river fork concealed by long grass and reeds and waited there. His team crouched and covered their positions. Melzo monitored the area with their mini drone, watching for signs of movement. Raddy very softly hummed a hymn; Yegg sucked the juice from a pouch of peaches. Radu himself eased his organ out and massaged it gently as he waited.

[Novitera]

Palace of the Ethnarch

"Right, professional courtesy. You do not sit down in somebody's office without invitation or permission. To do so is very rude. It is our custom." Darrell explained as he took his seat. Jocelyn followed.

"The idea is that the person has earned their own office and you should respect their hard work by not making yourself comfortable in it without their say so. The custom applies to a few other situations as well now that I think about it. Does that seem strange? It makes sense when we think about it but I bet it seems strange to you." Jocelyn explained.

"Anyways, first, we request that copies of the evidence that is going to be brought against Mister...Elder Brother Malachi..." Darrell corrected himself just in time. "A witness list, transcripts of their depositions or interrogatories, documents...the works."

"We also need to talk about mitigation and possible plea deals. We have talked to Elder Brother Malachi and I don't think he will agree to plea guilty on any of the charges. The man has strong principles. Would pleas of nolo contendere be acceptable?" That meant that the defendant was not admitting guilt but also not contesting the charges and would accept the consequences. Some Noviteran states allowed defendants to enter such a plea. "We are also looking to consider less severe punishments. What punishment for Elder Brother Malachi is your office pursuing at this time specifically? I know it's a long shot but is permanent exile on the table? Our supervisor is talking to the Noviteran state department. We might be able to get some of them asylum and citizenship in the United Federation." Jocelyn asked.

[New Edom]

Palace of the Ethnarch

Ruthan Demetrios listened to their requests and sipped her mint tea. "Are you sure you don't want some? it's very refreshing, you both look rather warm. Well well, you have some requests then."

"Let's deal with this one at a time, shall we? First of all, there are several key witnesses, including but not limited to Vice-Ethnarch Gamaliel, Captain Arabella Ephraim. Not the militia commandant, he just jumped out of a window and broke his neck. God rest his soul, not that that's terribly likely, but I'm not a priest, can't really say. Just..." she glanced up with a grin. "My professional opinion. There are some of his own brethren, and there's the Queen but of course she can't really testify about anything. Other officers from the Naval Air Station..." she mused over this. "Her executive officer, former executive officer--has some fearful things to say about Brother Malachi. The words 'treason' 'sedition' and 'fellatio' feature among them."

"However I'm afraid I cannot give you the actual paper evidence without a direct instruction from the Attorney-General or the judges, whose panel is being formed now. The investigating judge of course could...except in this case the interrogations are a state secret, pertaining to national security as the defendant is suspect of plotting involvement with a coup d'etat. Unless either of you have a clearance code I don't know about, which I would know about really," she laughed merrily again. "But that's not too likely, is it?

"As for his plea, you are in fact correct about that. So that leaves me just to answer about sentencing. The Throne will be wanting the death penalty. For a traitor should die lest they pollute the earth with their treasons and lying ways. And it's really better that way I think, don't you? Exile to some other country, likely godless? Awful. Penal battalion? Why it's a slow death sentence, believe me. Don't worry about him, we have an excellent firing squad deputized for this, from the 10th Military Police Regiment. All of them were national marksmen, one of them was even an Olympic contender, he's amazing. He can shoot a cherry pip out of a man's hand at a thousand meters. No fooling. Anything else?"

[Novitera]

Palace of the Ethnarch

"Ah, no thank you." Jocelyn said as to the tea. Darrell simply raised a hand and shook his head.

The Throne will be wanting the death penalty. Jocelyn gasped at that. She looked to Darrell who had a smug I told you so look on his face. They're monarchists Jocelyn! Don't forget that. His words came back to her. It was horrifying that they would do such a thing. For Ruthan to explain it in detail so casually made it worse. To Jocelyn it was absolutely barbaric. She was too shocked to speak.

"Very well Miss Demetrios. We'll have to contact one of the judges about the evidence and sentencing. But tell me, how are you suppose to present evidence at trial that is a state secret? Or do you not plan to use it at trial? I mean, that evidence needs to be presented at trial if it's going to be used against Elder Brother Malachi correct?" Darrell inquired, confused.

"Oh, Novitera is not godless either. We aren't the most religious people but all religion is constitutionally..." Jocelyn stopped herself realizing it did not matter. In the corner of her eye she could see Darrell shaking his head.

[Hittanryan]

Aboard the Plane

It was packed fairly tight in the hold of the large cargo plane, with every seat occupied and baggage either under every seat or secured to the floor of the plane's unloading ramp. The seats were fairly cramped, each one right next to each other. Though it was possible they could have fit even more people, there weren't enough seat belts or places to secure baggage. If something should happen mid-flight, they didn't want people getting tossed around or luggage flying everywhere. You never knew.

Eventually all the plane's passengers were asked to get to their seats and buckle in, and the loading ramp started to rise with a mechanical sound. A few minutes more and the turboprop engines roared to life, and with a slight lurch the plane taxied across the tarmac onto the runway. With plenty of room, the pilots didn't need an assisted takeoff. The engines throttled up, the passengers were pressed against their seats and harnesses, their ears popped as they rose, until finally the plane leveled off and they were airborne.

During takeoff, Mara mentioned to Holly that she was exhausted and going to sleep. No sooner had Holly sympathized than the Queen was out cold like an exhausted child at the end of a day at the fair. This was in spite of the rather noisy engines, turbulence during takeoff, and the people surrounding her.

For a good portion of the flight, the passengers were stuck in their seats as they passed through a bumpy weather system. The news crew found they wound up seated far away from the coordinator of the Isidium people heading up to Hillel. If not for the noise of the plane, they might have still been able to talk to them, but Travis insisted the audio was a non-starter. They were instead seated across from a young dark-haired woman, still in college, who kept glancing over at Chris, trying and failing to keep them from noticing. Chris seemed preoccupied, shifting in his seat, adjusting himself.

Holly just worked with what she had. "Hi! You're with Isidium?" Erica didn't hear. Holly repeated herself. "Hey! What's your name?" She had to shout a bit over the engine noise, and Travis indicated that the volume wasn't good.

Erica eventually looked right at her, a bit surprised. "Who, me?" she asked, noticing Travis' camera and blushing. She started adjusting her seat belt a bit across her chest.

"Yeah! What are you guys doing up here?" Holly asked.

Erica looked at Chris for a second, then asked "Uh, are you guys reporters?"

"Yeah, we're doing a show!" Holly replied happily.

"Is this on TV? Like right now?" Erica asked.

"Nope," Travis answered. "Not live. Doesn't go in unless you want it." ‘How exactly am I supposed to transmit live from a plane using a camcorder? he wondered, marveling at the girl’s technological illiteracy.

Erica then laughed, and made an exaggerated gesture as though wiping sweat off her brow. "Phew! I thought I'd seen him on the news somewhere. Sorry, what did you ask?"

"What are you doing up in Hillel?" Chris asked.

"More refugees up there. They're going to need a place to live. I'm with the Water And Sanitation Association. Me and a few others are going up there to make sure there's fresh water for everyone," Erica answered, pointing to the WASA logo on her t-shirt.

"Where'd the refugees come from? How many?" Chris continued.

Erica seemed to blank a bit, sticking her tongue out in thought. "Well, there's about thirty five thousand people...but I don't think they told me where they came from."

"What's the overall purpose of the camp? How big's it going to be?" Chris asked.

"Um..." she seemed to freeze, as though she was on a test. "I...you know, I think the Coordinator has all the details."

"Yeah, but he can't hear us from back here," Holly replied, raising a hand to her ear. Erica nodded in response.

"You hear about what happened in Peregrino?" Chris asked, to which Erica nodded a bit warily. "You think they'll do it again? What do you guys feel about that?"

Looking at the floor a moment, Erica said "I was actually there."

Holly's jaw sort of hung open. Chris said something when she grabbed his arm. "Chris, don't make her talk about it."

"No, it's fine," Erica said reassuringly. "I think...they might not recognize the waivers anyway. You guys know that, right?" The news crew nodded in response, Chris the most warily of them all. "Well, the difference is we know it's coming this time."

"Why didn't you last time?" Chris asked.

Rolling her eyes, Erica said "This...fucking asshole...wait, can we edit that part out? Anyway, an arms trafficker from Ghant went to Peregrino trying to smuggle weapons, posing as aid workers. Posing as aid workers! After that the Edomites figured all the aid workers might be smugglers too."

"What if they still feel that way?"

Erica seemed to get her confidence back. "We went back to San Marco after that. Because people needed help. That's why we're gonna keep going anyway," Erica said proudly. She then looked around. "But a few people were pretty nervous, yeah. Some people didn't volunteer for a spot where they'd have to get naked. We all knew what we were getting into."

"And you don't mind?" Holly asked.

"Naw," Erica said, making a 'pshaw' gesture. "Maybe I'll try out some paint. Be almost like a tattoo, but it comes off!"

"Huh..." Holly said, seemingly intrigued by the idea. Chris by now clammed up a bit, crossing his legs and adjusting himself again while Holly and Erica kept talking. Erica mentioned the Foundation wanted to have its personnel easily identifiable by a sort of uniform, and barring clothes body paint was one possibility.

Once through the turbulence, the news crew finally had a chance to get up and talk to a few others. Chris made his way through the aisles, walking a bit awkwardly to the Coordinator of the Isidium mission to Hillel. According to him, there were about 36,000 displaced persons who had moved to the city fleeing the anticipating fighting along the Teman-Bara border. The goal was to build a camp that allowed them to live independently from the people of Hillel to avoid burdening Hillel's housing market and infrastructure, creating a safe haven for if and when the fighting reached the city, and ensuring the safety of the many non-ETC refugees who found themselves in what amounted to the ETC's capital whose population were over ninety percent ETC.

Holly took Travis with her around the plane as best as she could, at one point having to step over Mara's legs delicately. She asked a few families some simple questions. Why were they going to Hillel? How were they coping so far? Were they afraid of what would happen when they got there?

[Hittanryan]

Aboard the Plane

Eventually everyone had to return to their seats once more as the plane started its initial descent into Hillel. Chris had gotten some figures from the Coordinator, and Holly had some more stories from the refugees. When they returned to their seat, Travis was insisting the audio wasn’t going to be good. He’d have to see if he could tweak it in editing, otherwise the only way to understand some of it would be with subtitles. If it came to that, the footage probably wasn’t good enough unless they said something really moving.

As the news crew buckled back into their seats, the elephant in the room remained. They’d touched on it with Erica, but hadn’t discussed it amongst themselves just yet. Though they were on a crowded plane, the engine noise actually granted them a degree of privacy. To one side of them was a woman who Holly found only spoke enough English to indicate she spoke almost exclusively Baran, and to the other was a restlessly sleeping old man. Anyone farther away couldn’t hear them.

“So…” Holly said apprehensively. “What happens when we get to Hillel? You know, with the clothes?”

“We have valid waivers. We didn’t have any trouble in Harbourtown when it was under the Theocrats,” Chris said a bit stiffly.

“Yeah, but you heard what she said,” Travis said, motioning over to Erica, who was talking to someone a couple of seats down. “Foundation basically sent volunteers who were ready for anything. I think we should be ready to do the same.”

“We’re press,” Chris said tersely. “We can prove who we are, what we’re here to do. We’re not here to shame anybody into wearing clothes or make any kind of political statement.”

“I dunno man, you really want to get into this in the Prophet’s town?” Travis asked skeptically. “This isn’t like Harbourtown with all those Lecks and Monarchists they kind of had to put up with. It’s all ETC up here.”

“If the Theocrats claim continuity of government from the Touchstone days, exemptions and waivers were covered in the original Compulsory Nudity Act, which would still be on the books. We’ve got waivers,” Chris said firmly.

Travis now wore a bewildered expression, raising a hand to his temple. In the moments it took to collect his thoughts, Holly interjected. “Um, everything OK Chris?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re just getting a bit worked up,” she replied.

“I’m fine, I’m just saying legally we shouldn’t have to…”

“Dude, we covered ETC running people down in the streets of Harbourtown ripping their clothes off. It's not just a legal issue,” Travis pointed out.

“There’s no riots in Hillel,” Chris replied dismissively.

“You wanna chance starting one? I don’t,” Travis retorted.

“They’re not gonna riot at seeing a clothed news crew,” Olsen replied, again dismissively, before something dawned on him. “Wait, you’re really suggesting…”

“Chips are down for the Theocrats,” Travis said. “They just lost Harbourtown. To people who wear clothes. Now I’m no psychic, but that probably stings a bit. For foreigners, just to be safe—”

“That’s a leap of logic, isn’t it?” Chris countered.

“That’s the point, it’s not logic, it’s emotion. You don’t know what’ll stir things up,” Travis said.

“I still think you’re overreacting. There’s no reason not to at least ask at the airport how to make sure the waivers are in effect,” Olsen concluded, folding his arms. Travis threw up his hands at this point.

The back and forth debate didn’t do anything to reassure Holly. If anything it made her think they didn’t actually have a plan. “So...what are we gonna do if the waivers are just no good? At all?”

Travis rather quickly answered “Well, we can keep our clothes on and end up in an Edomite prison. Or we avoid possible human rights violations by...er, complying.”

Holly looked at Chris for a response, but he didn’t say anything and his expression was hard to read. It looked like he was breathing hard, arms folded, tense, but he didn’t seem actually angry. “Complying…” she said, repeating the word. “So just...boom, naked.” She crossed her legs as she said this.

“Yeah…” Travis said a bit pensively. “I mean, it’s not like one of those dreams where you wind up naked at school.”

“Like what kind of dreams?” Holly asked, befuddled.

“You never got those? Uh, never mind. Point is, you’ll probably stand out a lot more in this city with clothes. Christina said...damn, she could explain it better than me...” he took a moment to recall what she had said. “They draw the eye. Some kinds of clothes emphasize parts of your body, but all of ‘em hide what you’ve got and make people prone to fantasizing what’s underneath. Or something like that.”

“Yeah, um, that doesn’t help,” Holly said, before looking over at Chris. “What about being all exposed?” she asked, gesturing with her hands. “Just, ‘hey, going off to the mall’ with nothing on. Or what if I have to like, run? Or if I drop something…and we’ll be working like that too! Meeting and interviewing people!”

Through her ramble, Olsen was quiet. “Chris, are you listening?” She saw him nod and mouth ‘yeah’ but it wasn’t loud enough to hear over the plane. “Come on, you’ve been dead quiet. Seriously, what are we gonna do if they just deny our waivers?”

“Get hold of someone,” he said. “Network, embassy maybe?”

“The show, man, the Queen’s not gonna wait for us to file a lawsuit. She can’t,” Travis pointed out.

“I mean...is it really fair?” Holly mused. Chris and Travis both looked at Holly. She in turn looked over at Mara as she slept. “She’s a queen and she’s given up everything.”

“That was her decision to make,” Chris replied.

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to decide too,” Holly said, frowning a bit. “Chris, what’s bugging you?”

“Huh?” he exclaimed dumbly.

“Are you nervous? Because I totally am too,” she said, taking his hand gently. “That’s it, isn’t it? Since I’ve been working over here, I kept wondering when the day would come where I’d have to let it all hang out. Now that today might be the day, nope, still not ready.”

“But I guess, something like this isn’t the end of the world, right? We don’t have to make it that way. I don’t want this to be something where I think of you guys different just for seeing you...or you seeing me...”

Olsen’s mood was largely unreadable, though he somewhat unconsciously kept holding Holly’s hand. He finally said “So, if it happens, maybe a few rules.”

“Like?” Holly asked, blinking.

“Well, let’s just remember we’re coworkers. We can be adults about this, or we can let it get weird...er. How much time have we spent in New Edom? We’ve seen thousands, and personally interviewed hundreds of naked people.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Holly replied.

“Just not each other,” Travis pointed out.

“Rules!” Chris belted out in a stilted tone. “Rules...well, first, no staring?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, man,” Travis replied wryly, batting his eyelids at him. Holly burst out giggling.

“Second, try not to draw attention to anything,” Chris said, ignoring the joke.

“That’ll make it worse,” Travis said in a cautionary tone. “Trust me. Reverse psychology.”

“Third...contact,” Olsen said hesitantly.

“OK, now it’s getting weird,” Travis commented. Holly was hit by another round of the giggles.

“All I’m gonna say is that...accidents happen,” he said.

“Oh my gosh, Chris, stop! I’m dying!” Holly said. Chris seemed to all at once realizing what he was saying, and smirked.

Holly eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh god, Dad’s gonna kill me…”

“Heh, luckily for me, I’ll be behind the camera,” Travis joked. Holly swatted his arm. “Hey, if it’s any consolation you already walked in on me back in Carnmag. So, you know, nothing new on this front.”

“Oh GOD!” Holly exclaimed, blushing hotly and covering her face with her hands, the memory flooding back. She was loud enough that Erica glanced over. “Why would you remind me of that?!”

“Hey, fair’s fair here. I never wanted you to see me, but shit happens. Now we’ll be even,” he said, grinning.

“I’m so ratting you out to Christina…” Holly said with a naughty grin, which evaporated. “Wait…”

[Taelete]

New Edom, Fineberg, Betharan Palace

When Jocasta finished talking answered Aristarkh:"It is indeed a good quality for a commander if they're plainly spoken. And every message we hear about Elijah's successes proves that."

When Michael spoke added Aristarkh:"Yes, I cannot say that I have had the pleasure of seeing you in a testing situation Elijah, but from what I hear about your efforts in New Edom can I indeed judge you as a man with great qualities and your plans seem to work, it seems. I can also say that the king consort and Heir have proven to be most capable of forfilling the heavy tasks that came with your position in the nation after Queen Mara's disappearance."

"Speaking of Queen Mara, do you know where she is and how she is doing? We have heard a lot of rumours in Taelete that went to all directions. I even heard some rumours that she is already dead." asked Meliton while he looked at Michael as he had noticed that the man was studying the Taeletean delegation. Meliton kept a stealthy eye on the tanned man as Meliton had been intrigued by the Ghantish people for some time, he had even travelled to Ghant some years ago, and he decided to use one of the few opportunities to study a member of one of their royal houses.

In the meanwhile accepted the Taeleteans drinks from the servants. All took alcoholic ones but Aristarkh trusted that none of the delegates would drink too much.

[New Edom]

Betharan Palace, Fineberg, New Edom

Prince Elijah smiled quietly in response to the compliments from both Michael and the foreign dignitaries and bowed his head slightly. "Thank you," he said.

When the Queen was asked about, smiles froze a little for a moment.

"The Queen is not dead," said Prince Elijah before anyone else could speak. "But is traveling to HIllel to speak with the Prophet, with my agreement. She wishes to propose a plan for peace to him. Because all regard the Queen as a sacred and inviolate person, and they have agreed to treat her thus and indeed did so in Harbourtown, this seemed the right thing to do."

"We do trust Prince Elijah, I have said so, and all have," said Queen Rebecca. "But we fear for and pray for my daughter the Queen. If they were to harm her in any way our vengeance would be terrible of course."

Jocasta said nothing, but sipped her wine while the others talked.

"Her courage and virtue are great, but..." Queen Rebecca gave a light laugh, "She is a stranger to reason. It is kind of you to ask after her."

"I cannot help but notice that your country appears to be a confederacy, am I correct in understanding that?" asked Dr. Aphek in the awkward silence that followed.

[New Edom]

Palace of the Ethnarch

"Very well Miss Demetrios. We'll have to contact one of the judges about the evidence and sentencing. But tell me, how are you suppose to present evidence at trial that is a state secret? Or do you not plan to use it at trial? I mean, that evidence needs to be presented at trial if it's going to be used against Elder Brother Malachi correct?" Darrell inquired, confused.

Ruthan laughed. "Sorry, now I understand. That is why you need an appointment with the Attorney-General! Culture clash can be so funny. Well, that makes sense. Our procedures are a little different, that's all. I cannot give you the evidence myself, I can merely generally refer to it. But the Attorney-General certainly can. Since the panel of judges has not yet been appointed--they're still reviewing them and the original president of the tribunal took sick--the Attorney-General is your best bet. I'll give you the proper forms and you can submit them and a formal request for an appointment--in fact I'd be glad to arrange the appointment with His Excellency myself."

"Oh, Novitera is not godless either. We aren't the most religious people but all religion is constitutionally..." Jocelyn stopped herself realizing it did not matter. In the corner of her eye she could see Darrell shaking his head.

Ruthan Demetrios listened to this politely but with a somewhat blank look, then said, "yes, well. The forms."

She got up and went to her cabinet and unlocked one of the drawers. She wore black well polished boots with uniform trousers tucked into them. She also had on a belt with a revolver holster and a dagger sheath, a belt buckle with the image of a tower blazoned on it. She took out some papers stapled together that had pink, white and yellow sheets. "These are request for evidence forms. But the key thing is the appointment, really, though you must also do the proper paperwork. Then this is a request for audience form, which again, I shall expedite."

"I take it," she added, as she handed over the papers to Darrell, "That you have not met the Attorney-General before? He's a very gracious man. He's very fond of classical literature, and has often said that his passion for the law comes from that passion also. You know, King Solomon, the various judgements described in Aesop, the nature of guilt and punishment in the Orestiad, all that sort of thing."

[Hittanryan]

Hillel, Lookinghaven

One of the things Mara loved about the Edenist lifestyle was that when it rained, it was nice and refreshing and you didn't worry about getting your clothes soaked; if you had a water proof cover for your straw hat in your bag, you just tucked it over like a big shower cap and marched on. Of course up in Hillel it was a refreshing slightly tepid rain rather than the warm rain of the south, and that was nice too. As they got off the plane, Mara advised that they should probably just do a quick preamble before going through customs. Not many customs officers anywhere liked being filmed, she figured, though she did say she would try to announce them.

The refugees who had arrived had been a little reluctant to be interviewed, but they had revealed that they were all civilians, had no official connection to the government or unofficial for that matter in Harbourtown. Two of them were campaign workers for the Free Congress, one was a doctor who was going to be working with refugees near the city. They were generally well educated and seemed tired and reluctant to talk too much.

Hillel looked very colonial Cornellian from the air. It had round domes, lots of villas and bungalows and square short apartment buildings. It was surrounded by farm country and little villages all around, The airport was newer but was rather basic--a control tower, warehouses, hangars, Quonset huts, an administrative brick building they were led to by painted naked militia with submachineguns.

"I am to make my way to the Cathedral of the End Times like any pilgrim--find my own way," Mara explained. "That's what I've chosen to do. I'm not going to have any fuss and fanfare.”

“We’ll be with you, Your Majesty,” Holly said. She looked a bit nervously at the brick building.

“And we’ll also make sure not to get in your way,” Chris added.

The line of refugees and workers moved into the large brick building, which was one story but broad, rain pattering down on the pavement around it, guards standing nearby; the metal and security glass doors opened, and floors painted with yellow lines and plastic dividers and a customs area were revealed. The refugees were being moved towards an area where they simply had to have their luggage scanned and show their passports and travel visas and were permitted to go on. “Buses are waiting to move you, welcome home, Brothers, welcome home, sisters,” said an official painted with white and blue leaves, holding a clipboard.

Foreigners were met with a stern looking, startlingly fit group of customs officers, who had rock solid muscles, male or female, powerful thighs, biceps and bellies as though they were marathon runners, superbly wearing their white and blue paint bisecting their bodies from feet to face. Hair was short--buzz cuts for men, bobs for women. “Please assemble parallel to the yellow line . You will see tables with boxes there. Please sort your clothing in the larger box neatly, private valuables such as jewelry, watches, wallets in the smaller box. When you have done so proceed to the next line to declare your reason for travel and present your papers.”

At first Holly sighed a bit with relief when she saw the refugees just walking through. It looked like a normal terminal almost. Then she saw the foreigners, all of them clothed, were being sorted out of the crowd. She stuck close to Chris, unwittingly gripping his hand anxiously. It was hard to decide if it was a good idea or not sticking to the rear of the line, watching a few people go at a time instead of getting it over with. Mara reached out and squeezed her arm and said with a warm smile, ‘I’ll see you out there, God’s blessings…” and then was ushered with the other refugees to their line. Holly put on a bright smile but went back to looking nervous.

The aid workers who went first were a mixed bunch. Some of them seemed a bit timid, taking their time, perhaps even stalling. Others were quick about it, resolute in the face of fairly substantial culture clash. Holly saw Erica from the plane. She took a moment to remove her earrings and place her phone in the small box. Taking a deep breath, in more or less a single motion, she pulled her t-shirt over her head, revealing a generous, tanned bosom. She then unzipped her shorts and shimmied out of them, placing both them and the shirt in the box. Erica’s tanned olive skin was devoid of tan lines, and a closer look at the box revealed she hadn’t worn any underwear. After that she walked, breasts bouncing freely and hips swaying, to the next part of security. Her expression was largely neutral throughout.

Travis was the first of the news crew to make it through the gate, who just sighed and resigned himself. Living in New Edom had helped, though he was aware that he was surrounded by Adirans as he removed his t-shirt and jeans to reveal a lean, reasonably sturdy if hirsute body. Out of courtesy, he tried not to let his eyes wander too much. He’d feel better when he was just around Edomites who he’d know wouldn’t be weird about it. At this point he just hoped he wouldn’t draw attention as a man with average looks, average muscles, and average...anatomy. Now that he was out there already, he wanted to avoid further trouble, waiver or not.

Holly and Chris walked up to the first yellow line together, neither of them nearly as confident as Rikkers. When Holly stepped up to the line she walked slowly, craning to see if anyone was getting their clothes back by presenting a waiver. Chris walked up to the line at a normal pace, emptied his pockets of valuables, but froze as soon as he finished that. It took him a good ten seconds before his hand reached up to undo the top button on his shirt. He eventually removed the button-down to reveal a powerful physique, with a chiseled stomach and thick arms. While he was undoing his belt, however, he saw Holly sneaking a glance at him...then he saw Holly. She was pulling her dress down past her waist, leaving her in a matching set of light blue underwear.

Chris suddenly became aware of a problem, a distinctly male one. He froze again, desperately trying to get his mind off of it.

Now down to the moment of truth, Holly took a deep breath, but it was a false start. She took another deep breath, reached behind her back, and unhooked her bra. Slowly she pulled it off, exposing her perky, ample assets to the world before instinctively covering them with her arm. Blushing hotly, she fumbled a bit with her waistline, wiggling a bit as she exposed the paler curves of her bottom and womanhood to the world. For a moment she stayed crouched, standing up slowly, keeping her legs pressed together as she put her clothes in the box.

Olsen had closed his eyes and had managed to stave off his arousal. He’d gotten his light slacks off, and finally removed his boxer shorts to reveal his rather substantial member. Unfortunately he made the mistake of opening his eyes just as Holly was standing up from a crouched position right in front of him. She also reached up to brush some hair out of her face, letting her bosom fall freely with a bit of a bounce.

His predicament returned, stronger than ever, and by now he was being told to keep moving in the line. Gathering his clothes, he hastily held them at just the right height to hide the offending appendage and allowed her to go through first. Of course, as soon as he placed his clothes in the bin she snuck a glance and quickly looked away, her face turning beet red.

’Well that’s just great,’ Olsen thought, filling his head with thoughts of football and cold showers while seemingly finding a sudden fascination with some of the ceiling tiles.

A customs officer, a burly though handsome woman of possibly Dengali or Dahamean origin mixed with Baran said, “Papers please,” casually, glancing at her face. Another tapped an electronic wand in his palm as he stood nearby.

The first aid workers through security quickly presented their passports and press pass. The volunteers all had work permits. Holly also handed her an exemption waiver for the CNA. She tried to just smile in a friendly way and asked “Need anything else?”

“Due to state of emergency in Lookinghaven Province in the Theocratic Republic, Miss, no waiver are being accepted issued from Monarchist held territory,” said the woman. “You can apply for a new waiver at the Palace of the Ethnarch here, but you look in good health. Onbehalfofthetheocraticrepublicwelcometohillel,” she said rapidly having said it many times already. “Please go to the next yellow line, spread your arms three inches from your body and your feet a foot apart for inspection by the wand. Next!”

“Uh, wait…” Holly started until the official dismissed her with a jumble of words, leaving her to simply say “...OK.” She looked down at her bare body, acutely aware of its movements.

The now unclothed Isidium and other foreign people were required to put their clothing except for a hat and footwear into a plastic bag they were handed and then to move on. People who began to get dressed were courteously but firmly chided and advised to head on to the exit from customs.

It was slightly cooler in the administration building in the customs area, and Holly occasionally felt air around her in places she normally only did at appropriate times, not in mixed company in public. The foreigners looked different from the natives in that it was very clear that they normally had parts of their bodies, including large areas, covered up normally. Some were paler, others had tan lines, some like Holly’s covering bikini or bathing suit areas, some covering one piece or shorts and shirt areas, others even more, showing only farmers’ tans like Chris and Travis. Erica was one of the few exceptions. Even as naked as the Edenists, they were strangers here.

“Papers, purpose for traveling in the Theocratic Republic?” asked the customs clerk at the desk as Holly came before her, glancing swiftly over her with cool though alert eyes. The other officer stood nearby slapping his wand in his palm, eyes flicking over her, each as naked as Holly though with all over dark tans and body paint bisecting each of them.

Travis was already through. The other two members of the news crew were realizing just how long they’d taken at the first gate. Holly again turned over her passport and press pass, aware the waiver would do no good. She didn’t like the cooler air on her, folding her arms across her chest. “We’re filming a documentary for ANBC. I’m the director.” It felt strange talking to someone this official about work in her state of undress.

“Media...media…” the woman checked a file on the laptop on her desk. “Yes, that’s right. Welcome to the Theocratic Republic of New Edom, Madame Director. Please go ahead. Next please!”

Holly nodded and said “Thank you.” Barefoot still, once clear of the line she put her heels back on...only to realize after walking ten feet that with every movement she was bouncing all over the place and her hips were swaying back and forth like a tolling bell. Not even bothering to find Travis yet, she immediately stopped and fished a pair of sandals out of her bag.

Mara approached her with a smile. “Oh my gosh, you look lovely! Is that your natural skin tone? I envy you, so light and fair...and changing into sandals, I was going to suggest, you know, heels might tire you out and make your arches ache like fun. I was just checking, there’s a bus that runs right to the Cathedral and the administration building that’s just across the street from the western part of the university campus, so we can catch that soon once we’ve got all your luggage sorted out. There are taxis as well but I’m afraid I’m not carrying much money and I don’t like to use the treasury outside of an emergency when I’ve got perfectly good legs and bus fare…”

“Oh, thanks!” Holly said, standing up and smiling, shifting a bit in her sandals. Her nervous expression seemed to dissipate a bit when Mara complimented her. It was going to take some getting used to. “Yeah, we’ll catch the bus, Travis went up ahead of us to grab his stuff. Chris is behind me somewhere. Um, can I ask you a question? Well, maybe two questions?”

Chris’ problem hadn’t yet subsided when he came to customs. He had decided thinking about it would just make it worse, so he simply presented himself with as much dignity as he could, and said “We’re here with ANBC, covering news and filming a documentary.”

The customs officer didn’t notice--which would have been according to custom as Chris had heard it--a natural reaction from time to time that unless you did something overtly lewd would be ignored. “Welcome to the Theocratic Republic, Your Honour,” said the woman politely. “I hope you enjoy your stay. Next please.”

“Thank you,” Chris said, trying to keep a distance from anyone. He walked past some of the aid workers, who were organizing into groups for transport. Erica did a bit of a double take upon seeing Chris, biting her lower lip with a naughty expression. He found Travis and stiffly said “Let’s see where the baggage claim is.”

“Hang on, just need to…” Travis said.

“...let’s go now.” Olsen said urgently.

Mara looked around to see where the two men had got to; seeing that they were where Holly had said, Mara realized Chris was a little shy for an obvious reason, and hid a smile and looked at Holly. “Of course. Ask away!”

She seemed to relax a bit, standing a bit more naturally. “Well, you became a full-time Edenist recently right? I’m just wondering like...how do you adjust when you first do it? Like when you go from clothes to naked.”

“It’s easier for me, because New Edom is clothing optional,” explained Mara, “But you’re right, the Edenist privileges had been squashed for a bit under my Uncle Mark, so people protested to be allowed to go naked in public again. It worked. I did it a few times. But it was a little thrilling, a little scary for me but it was more social for me than really..intimate if that makes sense. It’s more like I was going against my class and rank a bit.” she chewed her lip. “It’s a little hard to explain, but royalty and aristocracy don’t often go naked in public. We all did a little more under the earlier Theocratic Republic, to be polite, you know. But to be honest...I can’t imagine what you’re going through Holly. Is it very difficult, embarrassing?”

“Well...it’s still a bit real. I was nervous, still kind of am,” she said, laughing a bit. “It’s just everything out there on full display all the time. Every little, you know, bounce, or you gotta be careful how you bend over. But at the same time, at a lot of beaches and spas back home it’s clothing optional too, and I’d walk around there. I don’t think I should be ashamed or anything.”

“No one has anything to be ashamed of when they are in their natural state. Of course we Edenists also believe in being in as good of a shape as you can manage--I mean naturally some are plumper than others, some are skinnier, some stronger, but being too obese is a sign of gluttony which is a sin. And of course things like tattoos, piercings, things like that are altering God’s temple which is the body unnecessarily. But you have nothing to be ashamed of at all, Holly,” Mara reassured her.

“Thank you, that helps actually,” Holly said with a smile. “Oh and, um, you don’t have to answer this, but I think Chris…” she fumbled for a moment, gesturing a bit with her hands, giggling a bit. “He, well, ugh, I’m just gonna say it, he’s hard. I think it’s because he saw me. I mean, I guess...I don’t mind, but like...do you have any idea what guys do for that? I think he’ll be too proud to ask anybody.”

Mara hid a smile behind her hand but let Holly see it. “It’s hard...gosh what an unfortunate word...hee hee, it’s a little tough on a fellow because you know everyone can see, with a woman it’s a little harder to tell. We all get feelings. If the man just pinches the tip where the nerves are it will sort of shock it soft again, just turn a little away, quickly do that. You’ll see some men do that especially if they’re about to enter a lineup or go into some place. Oh and a few other rules of etiquette, to remind you. When you go into a place if you don’t have your own towel or mantle with you, there are often disposable paper sheets or clean cloth towels for you to sit on. For public or shared places, you see. The paper ones you usually toss into a special recycling bin that sends the stuff back to a paper recycling plant. And make use of public showers, it will help you relax, and once you see lots of people doing normal things and not making a big deal about it, you’ll find it alright. It may not be for you but Holly, I’m so touched that you are all doing this. It means a lot to me. I will not forget that you stood by me in this, that you went on this journey risking your sense of modesty and dignity. You’re a wonderful person, wonderful people.” Mara said warmly. She took her hands a moment, deciding it might be a bit too soon to give Holly a hug, not wanting to push her boundaries too much yet.

Holly looked at Mara warmly and held her hands. “I’m just glad to be a part of this, I really hope we can help. You’re an inspiration. It feels like there’s too many people who just want to hurt and kill. We need someone like you around.” She seemed to sense Mara’s intent, and offered her a hug.

Mara embraced the other woman, bare skin fully touching, and pressed her cheek against Holly’s a moment before withdrawing. “We should get going, where are those menfolk of yours?” she said cheerfully.

Chris and Travis were approaching from the baggage claim area, carrying all their luggage. “All right, everything OK so far? This is the test,” Travis was saying.

“Leave it alone,” he said. It was OK so far, but then ’Damn! Holly and the Queen! He quickly shifted his bag so it was positioned in front of his groin. It was Chris’ way to usually hide his feelings. No hiding that.

Travis saw where the bag was. “You failed the test, didn’t you? You know you’re gonna have to do something about this.”

“I said leave it alone,” Chris repeated.

“Hi fellows, all set?” Mara said brightly, walking up with a friendly smile, shoulder bag on, her tanned olive body contrasting vividly with their own more patchwork skin.

“All set, Your Majesty,” Chris said, the awkward angle of his bag making it obvious what he was trying to do in spite of his veneer of professionalism.

“Oh good!” Mara said.

“We’re ready to go, Your Majesty,” Travis replied. “You know, back in Harbourtown it didn’t seem fair that you were the only Edenist around.”

“And now you’re joining me! That’s great. I think the bus schedule said it arrives in about ten minutes, or we might have to wait another forty, so we should hustle…”

Holly smiled a bit shyly and turned to face them. “Well, we’re here. Yeah let’s make sure we catch that busl,” she said with a smile. “Oh, can I see my bag? I need to grab my towel, and you guys should grab yours too.”

“Towel? What for?”

“To sit on,” she explained, reaching over. In the process, she caught a glimpse of Chris’ continued arousal. While embarrassed for him, she found herself wondering, hoping, that she had inspired it. Suddenly she was glad, as Mara said, that it was harder to notice when women were attracted to someone.

She felt bad for Chris’ predicament. He never wore his emotions on his sleeve, just giving the occasional glimpse into what she found attractive in him. Now this was all on display, just like she was.

Thinking about what Mara said, she saw some Edomite men lining up for a queue. She saw one of them do it, and saw another possible candidate. “Hey, see that guy? Look at what he does.”

“Does with what?” he asked.

“You know…” Holly said, looking down. That made it worse when she said that. “Just...watch him a little.”

“What,” Olsen said flatly.

“Well, I could do it for you,” she offered innocently.

“Somehow I think that would make it worse,” Chris said warily.

“Then you’ll have to watch somebody. But don’t stare at him,” Holly said, getting closer to him to whisper. In doing so one of her breasts pressed up against his arm. ’REALLY not helping...’ he thought as she pulled away. Eventually, the other man did it.

“There, Try that,” she whispered.

“...don’t look,” he requested quietly.

Mara and Travis had seen something a little awkward was happening; she had seen this before in some foreign men who were not used to getting turned on in public, not knowing the etiquette, while Travis himself had been in the same position going out with Christina. They would eventually get past the culture shock and see bodies as normal, and see the occasional arousal as being normal too, no more awkward than having your tummy rumble in public.

Travis made up an excuse to leave. “Any idea where your bodyguards got to, Your Majesty?” Travis asked.

Mara wondered the same thing as they went to check the bus schedule and see if they were near the stop. Hopefully her two companions would be alright, but she wondered if Izena would get herself into trouble again...

[Hittanryan]

Hillel, Lookinghaven

In the cockpit of the C-130, the plane's crew was watching as the refugees disembarked. The spook had wanted to leave right in the middle of the crowd, leave the airport as a refugee who for the time being was staying in a hotel until she knew the countryside was safe. She had assumed the identity of an Edomite known to be in the refugee camp in Harbourtown, complete with national ID and a passport.

The pilot looked back to Wendy and got as far as "I think you can..." She quickly turned around when she saw that the AIS agent had removed the top of her BDU, revealing a perky set of bare breasts.

There was an awkward pause. "Can what, lieutenant?" Wendy prompted, folding the shirt.

"You know, you could've warned me you already had your tits out," the pilot said, a bit flustered.

Wendy had a bemused expression. "Lieutenant, you've been deployed to New Edom. If I were you I'd get used to seeing tits, and a lot of them." With that, she slipped the pants off as well, and she was back in an Edenist state.

The AIS Agent made her way into the crowd of refugees. If anyone asked where she'd been during the flight, she said the very last seat was up front in the cockpit and the nice pilots let her ride up there. With her skin devoid of tan lines, no makeup, simple straight hair, the smell of public shower soap upon her, and a dark patch of curls below the waist, she was virtually indistinguishable from the ETC refugees, made it through customs and took a seat right outside the main entrance with an old handbag and suitcase.

[Ghant]

Hillel, New Edom

Well, this is certainly better than that holding cell…

Izena had spent enough time in confined spaces, yet this one was most welcome compared to previous variations. The plane was packed fairly tight in the hold of the cargo plane, with every seat occupied. Izena kept her small duffel bag given to her by Angela under her seat. She did have one book, entitled The Jendebasa: A Thorough Assessment. The book was in Ghantish, and Izena poured over it’s contents rather than focus on the fact that the cargo hold was packed, with people all strapped in next to each other.

The noise of the plane, that it made upon preparing to take off, and then once it actually did, was hardly anything that concerned Izena…by now, she was used to that. So many planes. The weather was somewhat turbulent, it appeared. Eventually could walk around once things calmed down, but she remained in her seat in any event, content to stay quiet and lay low with her book. Mara was sleeping, something that Izena was glad to see. Probably hard to do as a vagrant in Harbourtown, she thought. Especially with all those ruffians running around.

The Jendebasa by and large didn’t really read or write…they passed on their stories, traditions and knowledge orally, Izena remembered that much. Around roaring fires that burned brightly in the winter nights, an illumination in the darkness. How far away I am from all that now. There didn’t seem like a place further away then New Edom.

This was how she spent her time on the plane, her face buried in this book, reading the printed words on the pages and examining the illustrations, for the chronicler was also an artist of sorts, or at least good enough to draw what he saw to great effect. After a while though, she turned to a new page, one that discussed the Bestebatzuk.

Chill in the midwinter air,
dark is the night sky
Heavy clouds above reflect
the fire in their eyes
Tread across the icy ground
as North Wind softly sighs
The bones will hide them
in the mountain's sheltered lie.

The horror of her childhood took her over again, sending shivers down her spine. She shut the book and took a deep breath. Fortunately, before too long the plane began to make its descent, signaled by the announcement. At that, Izena tucked her book in the bag under her seat, and then leaned back. Thinking of her youth and of the reading, she realized something. Monsters are born of Midwinter.

Izena watched as Mara and the Adirans began too move out with the refugees after the plane landed. She tried to remain somewhat close, although a bit back as well, in an attempt to strike a balance. It was raining though, and it made her clothes wet and clingy as she stepped out under the open sky. Gah, I despise wet clothes…at least I might be able to take them off…

They all moved into a large, one story brick building with guards standing around it. There was a set of metal and security glass doors that opened to them, revealing a customs area with plastic dividers and floors painted with yellow lines. Izena looked at the customs officers, who appeared to possess stern guises and lean, hard and firm bodies. Oh my…

They did speak, to which Izena listened. Listening to people in positions of authority is a good idea.“Please assemble parallel to the yellow line . You will see tables with boxes there. Please sort your clothing in the larger box neatly, private valuables such as jewelry, watches, wallets in the smaller box. When you have done so proceed to the next line to declare your reason for travel and present your papers.”[/i] Wanting to just get it over with, Izena strode forward, duffel bag over her shoulder.

When it came time for her to get it over with, Izena put the items of the duffel bag into the smaller box. And then she worked her way out of her wet clothes. First the shoes and socks, t-shirt, then the shorts, then the padded bra and then the underwear, the latter two designed for comfort rather than cosmetic appeal. She didn’t used to wear bras, but then again, she had changed some over the past year. Down the bare flesh, Izena was revealed to still be quite fair, with dark freckles peppering her skin, as well as some scars on her back, abdomen, legs and arms. She was lean and firm yet slightly curvy, with a shapely bosom and fundament for a woman of her height and frame. Izena did look down, to see her long legs and only slightly trimmed pubic hair…just a little off the top. She put her clothes in the big box, and then walked to the next part of security with a neutral look on her face, despite her want to grin. Walking around without any clothes on isn’t so bad, she thought, plodding forward on flat feet, something that most Ghantar had, oddly enough.

A female customs officer awaited, and barked, “papers please.” Nearby, a male customs officer tapped an electronic wand in his palm. “Papers, purpose for traveling in the Theocratic Republic?”

Izena handed her passport and associated papers to the female customs officer, and said, “I am with the ANBC team.” Assuming they let her through, she was prepared to get together with the others, with only her duffel bag and shoes, bare to the world like the day she crawled out of the womb. How thrilling, she couldn’t help but think.

[Hutanjia]

SOUTHERN TEMAN

The assault team, designated Mamba Force, were all loaded up on to the transport choppers, as the gunships hovered and waited. The Rangers and other RCT marksmen and scout teams had been collected via truck and GAZ as quickly as possible to the newly established FOB set up by a company of the 1st Bn/46th Logistical. A few were still trickling in as Zero Hour fast approached.

Then they were off and heading over the frontier, with the gunships in the vanguard, to drop well forward of where intel currently had tracked the largest concentration of rebels. It was difficult to pin them down and they were certain to still miss many as the enemy was breaking up into smaller units and fading back.

Roendorf's attack, Cobra Force, had already set off on their attack. His main force was loaded up into vehicles with their artillery and mortar support raking barrages forward along their projected route as well a wide margin on both sides. Some Ranger/scout teams would be dropped off at points along the way, in order to go after ETC militia anti-armor teams. On the whole, they would abandon their up to now, methodical pursuit of the retreating rebel fighters, giving up caution for speed. Smaller pockets of the enemy (if they posed no AT or AA threat) would be bypassed to be dealt with later, as they raced to meet up with Mamba Force.

Joining the LIRCAS and Super Etendards of the 12th in ground suppression were the two flights of Shrikes and KaF-37s of 6th Squadron. The flight of remaining LIRCAS Sergeants and the flight of Shrikes concentrated on paving the way forward for Captain Roendorf’s flanking attack, dubbed Cobra Force. The Super Etendards and KaF-37s meanwhile, shifted their focus to the general area where Mamba Force would be heading in. While limited in success in actually taking out large groups of the ETC rebels, it was hoped that they would at least keep their heads down and too preoccupied with trying to thwart the thrusts.

As the Mamba force headed deeper into Teman Province and away from Emerald’s ‘front lines’, the inevitable MANPADs and RPGs streaked up from the ETC teams who had not been deterred by the fixed wing barrages. Countermeasures were deployed by both the escorting AH-90 and Alligator gunships, as well as the UH-100s. They dipped and rose, fighting to add speed to shake the incoming ground fire, but never slowing. Miraculously, none of the helicopters were hit during the initial volleys, to receive serious enough damage that they would need to turn around. Up to now, the attrition on the HRAF support accompanying the RCT had been severe, both on aircraft and pilots and crew.

Colonel Hudagku watched and followed the reports from his command vehicle near the temporary FOB. It was now obvious that the ETC were conducting a fighting retreat.
A command staff aid, a lieutenant spoke up from his station at one of the monitors set up in the mobile work space.
“Sir, permission to ask a question?”

The junior officer’s hesitation was natural. The eyes of his peers in the vehicle were on him. It wasn’t often encouraged under most HRA commands for lower ranks to speak up unless spoken to. It was a sure way to freeze ones’ career cold. Hudagku was different though, in that he felt he needed to bring up the next generation of commanders and that even in the thick of wartime, there were always teaching moments to be had.
“Certainly, Lieutenant Owangka. What is it?”

“Well...we have superior numbers, arms, firepower and total air dominance, but we still don’t seem to be making fast progress. I guess we’re...winning, but not to the point where the enemy will surrender…”

“Ah, yes,”
Owangka had been too young to have served during the Civil War back home, and hadn’t seen service yet in the continuing insurgency on Nesselberg. He was unfamiliar with guerrilla tactics, such as how the UFF had, and continued, to operate.
“It is unfortunate, but it’s to be expected, Lieutenant. You see, these are experienced guerrilla fighters, or they have experienced leaders, at least. It is difficult to pin down such a fluid, light, native force. We won’t decisively win a conventional battle against them again until they try to actually hold more ground, which I doubt they will. Here, anyway. The most experienced COIN fighters we have to hunt them down on their level are our Rangers, and they’re stretched pretty thin right now.
Hopefully, this two pronged punch or double hammer will trap some of the ETC that are trying to escape our net. The Ranger teams of Mamba acting as a bunch of small hammers, breaking into smaller fire teams to meet the rebels on their scattered, small group level, while Captain Roendorf’s Cobra group will act as the big hammer, and the rest of us in Emerald acting as the anvil.”

Owangka nodded, taking it all in.
“That seems like a bold plan, sir.”

“It’s what was afforded to us at this moment. One of the best options we have. I can’t take credit, Lieutenant. It’s the classic battle tactic, The Hammer and Anvil Attack, as you must have learned at the Academy. This is just a variation on that. We can only hope that it’s at least partially successful.”

“If not, sir?”

“We are already successful, Lieutenant. Our primary purpose was to tie up enemy forces that might oppose the Monarchist landings to the Northwest and West. We have done our job there, but we can’t rest on our laurels. We need to keep whittling down this force so that there’s little left to reinforce the main defense to the Northwest in Nass, or even more beneficial, if they totally dissolve and are no longer an effective fighting force. We keep facing many of the same fighters over and over again, I suspect.
If we decisively break the defense here, then we and the Romans could be freed up to become the prime thrust deep into the heart of what is left of the Theocratic Republic.”

[New Edom]

The Battle for Nass

Teman-Bara Border

Several fires and timed fuses with precious explosives let off were meant to draw enemy fire; sappers in the militia had learned this fighting the Elwe and Anarchists, and were now experts in it themselves. In some cases this was to draw people to ambush by snipers who would then relocate, but by now Ephraim had gotten what he felt was a read on the situation.

He knew Hutanjian Rangers and other veterans had fought in places like Nesselberg; he knew that these were well blooded troops. He had already decided: it was worth sacrificing a weak and smaller unit and stragglers to the enemy to have his best people get away. He simply continued with this strategy.

The Hutanjians did find some bodies--inevitably units caught crossing streams or clearings, forced by being sandwiched, had been struck by Hutanjian artillery and heavy weapons fire. Nearly a hundred camp followers, largely smaller children, women, the walking wounded and elderly, naked, painted with green and yellow crosses, held their hands up, shaking like leaves. One of the walking wounded, a youth in his late teens, with a raw croaking voice, began to sing "Abide with Me" which a number of others took up as the Hutanjians moved warily forward.

Here and there little parties of stragglers found themselves pinned down by the sheer numbers, by being forced towards more open fields and roads by enemies moving through the brush and marsh like beaters to the waiting hunters. Through the smoke wreathed marshy fields they went. The more experienced moved into uncomfortable areas thick with tussock grasses and under half exposed marshy mucky tree roots and covered themselves with detritus, but others, exhausted and nearly spent, chose to spend their lives in a last rush of gallantry, expending a last anti-tank round, a last burst of 7.62L fire, a last thrown grenade, and then sweeping out a machete or bayonet for close combat they knew would probably not come. But they would die on their feet, not live on their knees.

The melting of the ETC command under Ephraim was the only way they could survive at all. There were rendezvous points to get to. He could only hope that the 'sacrifices' would delay the enemy somewhat, draw them away, that his veterans would, split up into squad sized units in the vastness of the marsh, slip through the tightening noose, avoid all action, avoid being seen, imitate the marsh rat rather than the griffon and live to fight another day.

One unit, about fifteen, moving like ghosts through the tall grass and reeds, waist deep in water, was unlucky enough to go near enough to the Sugar Rats' position. The Rover Team leader, Radu, called in their position and trajectory with ETA to Hudagku's intelligence officer and maintained his own position, wanting to see if any more crossed his line.

Lookinghaven

An explosion roared in the dusty smoke ahead of Lieutenant Count Alexander Domris' position as the Royal Cavalry Guards began their slow advance towards the heights overlooking the approach to Nass. He felt that cold excitement so clearly. Engineers had moved ahead to clear the minefield in armoured vehicles; they were given cover by the 2nd Squadron. The first, the one he was in, began their own rumbling advance. Through the dust he could see, through his periscope, the wraith like shapes of the Lancers accompanying them, trudging ahead like men and women going into a storm.

The UAV was giving him targeting information by IR and radar, the enemy was coming out to play. Two Hamsher Mobile Gun Systems suddenly darted into view, turrets swiveling ahead; Domris barked out the coordinates as he ordered the whole tank to pivot and fire at the first target while telling his platoon sergeant to hit the second. Both M8 MBTs thundered their defiance at the rebel IFVs and burned smoking holes in each of them.

"What a shot, Your Honour!" bellowed his platoon sergeant in his headset.

"You too!" he said back. All around them, the infantry were moving in little rushes by squads, filling in the gaps, targeting enemy infantry before they could use their AT-4s or APILAS to strike at his people. The heavy weapons of the rest of the platoon were pouring it on, their support smashing up the enemy positions and softening them for the Lancers who rushed forward to seize the positions on his flanks. Domris took a deep breath. Now was the moment, they'd have the battle royale on their hands. So be it.

Then he heard something weird. Their UAV contact, and their support from Captain Mark Perna's RH-90 flight confirmed something bizarre. There was nothing but an encampment ahead of them.

At first no one believed him. He ordered his platoon to advance past surrendering, barely armed support troops to the main road. Thousands of naked penal battalion soldiers stood on either side of it, hands over their heads. He finally stuck his head out of the hatch, and saw fearful filthy thin faces of men and women standing there. No sign of their guards. Faintly in the distance beyond he heard the sound of warning sirens from the northeast, and saw a faint haze on the horizon, and a glimmer to the south of it.

"I am within sight of Nass," he reported. "Do I have permission to advance?"

The message was passed up to General Romain, who said with fierce but well controlled elation, between her teeth, "Yes. Advance. All units able to, advance. The victory is ours.."

Domris led the advance of the First Squadron, Royal Cavalry Guards, past the vast military defenses and encampment that would have been, the zigzags of trenches and foxholes barely begun, areas where bunkers were to have been dug in, hiding places for artillery and armour.

Motorized Infantry units which had been moving in small convoys onto roads to reinforce the shockingly undefended northern flank were struck savagely by the Monarchists' air power, driven off the roads, smashed, blown to pieces. Nass was all but undefended from the north; the better part of the Teman Division defending against EIO attacks and the Hutanjian/Roman thrust across the Baran border.

General Martin Benajah had to make a swift decision. He decided Nass could eventually be retaken, but that if he did not act quickly, the Monarchists would destroy yet another division of the Theocratic Republic's dwindling army. He made the decision to retreat farther into Teman and leave Nass and her greater area to the Monarchists. The 4th Regiment was, if possible, to do a fighting retreat. The others would immediately move towards the northern tip of the Lookinghaven border. The order given, the thing now was to see if they could pull it off, fall back in good order. Nearly all his troops were already deployed except for depot and some of the support and administrative units; there would have to be a strict timetable and adherence to it, and any strays would have to be left behind. The meager remaining air units would be used not to attack but to ambush any further attacks on his forces farther from the coast where the Navy would be strung too thin and the Air Force alone would be deployed sufficiently.

However one of his worries was the quality of this unit. While it was well trained, decently equipped compared to the Harbourtown Division, it was also largely made up of Temanite troops. Their families were mostly in the greater Nass area. The rumours of rape and murder among Monarchist troops and their allies had reached them. Now their homes and families were directly threatened. It would be a test of loyalty if they obeyed or not...

In addition to this, units of the Lookinghaven Division were immediately ordered to mobilize. Most of them were defending their own northern border against the Monarchists in Etruria Majora, but the 1st Lookinghaven Motorized Rifle Regiment was ordered to advance on Romain from the north and buy some time. With limited air cover but sufficient anti-aircraft capabilities, and without self propelled howitzers but with BM-21s and towed howitzers in sufficient numbers it was hoped that they could at least slow Romain down by attacking her northern flank in force.

General Benajah walked out of his headquartertas to where his staff awaited him, Military Police nearby, soldiers saluting him. He returned the salutes and did not let himself focus on despair--his sons in Monarchist jails, his cause losing, having lost Harbourtown and Bara, Perrin Pahath-Moab dead, the Free Congress cause threatened on all sides, Romain's superior forces closing their jaws around Nass. He thought only of the new military operation he must carry out for the good of the Theocratic Republic. A great general's retreat, a famous military theorist had once said, should be like that of a retreating lion--one which makes the enemy reluctant to follow.

[Novitera]

Palace of the Ethnarch

Jocelyn took the forms and stuffed them into her bag to prepare later. Court systems were notoriously inefficient, slow and mired in bureaucratic red tape. It surprised neither of them that New Edom was any different. "Err..they never taught us those things in law school. I'll have to look into it. A word from somebody in the government will go a long way. Thank you Ma'am." Jocelyn said to her.

"We'll have these sent to the Attorney-General's office right away. Here is my telephone number and email." He said then pulled out a business card to give to her. "Let as know the details of the appointment. If there's nothing else, we shall take our leave." Said Darrell. They stood up, nodded their heads to Ruthan in show of respect then made their way out the doors. A cab took them back to their hotel where both of them got to work filling out the forms.

They flipped a coin over who would go back to turn them in. Darrell lost so he quickly returned to have them dropped off with the right clerk. Perhaps within a few days they would receive an answer. Until then there was plenty of studying the pair of them had to do.