Pushing the detonator (CLOSED) (ATTN XANIXI)

by **Super Bwitain** » Sun Jan 27, 2013 8:58 am

The outskirts of Kravchenka

High Lord Jasper drank deeply from his large cup of scalding coffee. It was late at night and he needed to keep himself going so he could finish dealing with the mounds upon mounds of paperwork, "Damn Bureaucratic bullshit. I should really get someone to do this for me." He thought, grimacing at the many more hours he would have to work before he could rest. It was the annual meeting of the entire government in one week, which always proved to be stressful and a massive waste of time. But even so, he still had to see to it that a sufficient guard force, that food and drink would be on hand to anyone who requested it, that civilians were kept away from the conference building and that he guaranteed no official would come to harm.

Jasper rose from the seat which he was reclining and went out onto his balcony and observed the city of Kravchenka from atop the hill upon which his mansion was located, "It truly is beautiful." He thought as he gazed upon the towering skyscrapers, which were still filled with light even though it was so early in the morning. He gazed upon upon the city's Industrial sector, which in it's own way, was a beautiful sight to behold. It was there that the Imperium produced it's finest goods and weaponry and the Imperium's livelihood depended upon how efficient and successful the Industrial sector was. Finally, he gazed upon the Imperial palace, were the Equine king Black Market resided. It was a true testament to the ingenuity and workmanship of the Imperial people, who every day would go past it and be dwarfed in comparison.

He thought about the meeting of the government and wondered whether something could go wrong, would they run out of food? Could civilians get to close? Could guards not show up? Could there be a...terrorist attack? Jasper shook he has and perished the thought quickly. It was best not to think of such dark and sad things, but even so, there were many protest groups active in the Imperium, and all it would take was a single change of tactic and the Imperium could be on the receiving end of a disaster. With that final thought, Jasper returned to his study to finish his work.

Stormfront Arms

Stormfront Arms was a start up weapons company the Imperium which specialized in explosives. The six men in the back of the black van parked across the street knew that. What they also knew that the arms company didn't have many guards due to their recent creation and that the weapons they sold were perfect for what the men intended to use them for.

It was silent in the vehicle as each of the six men checked their weaponry. Each of them had an AR-15 equipped with a silencer, they each knew that this wasn't the movies and that the silencer would not make it completely silent but it would drastically affect the noise signature, which would make them harder to locate, especially seeing how it was at night. One of the men suddenly spoke up and pierced the eerie silence that had enveloped the men in the van, "We all know what to do, get in there, kill anyone who tries to stop us and take as much explosive as you can. Got it?" The other five men nodded in acknowledgement and pulled their balaclavas over their faces before exiting the van and heading towards the entrance. Seconds later the door had been kicked in, so far there were no guards. They made their way through the factory to where the explosives were located, where they were greeted by piles upon piles of plastic explosive. They all quickly grabbed as much as they could and put them in the rucksacks which they were carrying on their backs. They then ran out of the factory and back to their vehicle.

Back at the factory a single man had watched the six men leave and began to call the his superiors, when they answered the phone he said three simple words, "We have a problem."

by **Xanixi** » Sun Jan 27, 2013 12:48 pm

Jax inhaled the conditioned air of the Combat Eagle, his eyes cautiously scanning the environment that surrounded them from all directions; an urban environment, no less, packed to the top with millions of Imperial citizens, walking with grocery bags and mobile phones, communicating themselves to their friends and loved ones. His CARS, slipped in between his leg armor, sat quietly with their safety on as the troops patrolled the streets of Kravchenka, the capital of the Imperium. They were just a few amongst the one thousand American troops deployed to the Imperium, in return for having lent the Imperial military a naval facility in America at Fort Lauderdale, one of the most advanced naval bases operated by the American Navy in the Atlantic. Despite this exchange, anti-American groups often claimed the move was an imperialist action, with the AF attempting to take over the capital of the Imperium. An absurd notion.

“How far are we from Athame Army Base, captain?” Corporal Jenkins asked, bending his back forward to speak with Jax, who had taken the co-pilot seat. Jax quickly turned his head left, towards the GPS system integrated into the Combat Eagle. After a quick read, he relayed the information to the corporal, “Approximately thirty seven kilometers.” Turning his head back to the window as he heard the padding of the soldier”s armor sliding on the seat, he began to hear a radio transmission coming through their comms.

“Incoming transmission,” the driver, Sergeant Cooper, said, looking at the captain and expecting him to answer it. Indeed he did, grabbing the radio and slinging it close to his face, “Roger, this is Captain Jax of the 3rd Section, 1st Company, Vehicle One, American Enforcer Corps, receiving your transmission, over.”

“We have a problem; six armed men broke into Stormfront Arms and took large quantities of plastic explosive, could not fight them by myself.”

“Roger, we”re on our way.” Jax placed the radio back in its hold and turned to the sergeant. “There seems to be reports of a robbery at a Stormfront Arms factory. They”re requesting we check it out. Law enforcement is further away than we are.”

“Yes, sir,” Cooper replied, changing his direction to head to the Stormfront Arms factory. “Safeties off,” Jax ordered, switching the safety off his CARS and reviewing his PMAG to ensure he was equipped with rubber bullets. He reinserted the magazine into his weapon and looked back as the other soldiers unintentionally followed his footsteps. It was easily American habit to ensure your weapons carried the characteristics requested both when leaving the base and when in the field, to ensure you were correctly equipped.

As they arrived, Jax and Jenkins lowered their windows and stuck their weapons out – one, a CARS, the other, an EFR 6. Jax grabbed the Modular Combat Grip as he closed his left eye and focused his right on the ACOG scope”s 2.4x zoom, aiming at the factory”s exterior shell. Though at first Jax believed the area was rather quiet, he then noticed a black van, parked on the other side of the street from the factory.

Turning back to the left-side soldier, Warrant Officer James, he ordered, “Get eyes on that vehicle, Officer.” He quickly lowered his own window and stuck out his CARS, aiming at the van carefully.

“No movement that I can see,” he notified, keeping his scope on the back windows.

“Sergeant, park the vehicle and engage MILIPOL lights,” the captain ordered.

“Yes sir,” he replied, flicking a switch which turned on four lights on the top of the vehicle – red—white—blue—red. He parked the Eagle on the left side, aiming the right towards the van. Jax opened his side door and exit, aiming his CARS carefully and crouching behind the door. He heard the slam of the other two guns that slammed on the hood of the car has James and the soldier in the middle, Staff Sergeant Michael, stabilized their firing location, whilst the sergeant began communicating to nearby law enforcement.

“Got your eyes on anything?” Jax asked, moving from behind the door to its side, prepared to storm the vehicle.

“Freeze!” Corporal Jenkins shouted at the top of his lungs, propelling his EFR 6 to his shoulder and aiming at six unknowns who had just exited the buildings.

“Are they armed?! Are those our guys?!” Michael asked, aiming his weapon down at them.

“AR-15s!” James answered, focusing his ACOG on their weapons. “They”re armed!”

“Drop your weapons!” Jax shouted, lowering his index finger from the side of the weapon to the trigger itself.

At that moment, without any expectations, the six soldiers began to fire at them, showering the Eagle with bullets. “Shit!” Sergeant Cooper yelled as bullets slammed into the vehicle, shaking it to the left. He quickly grabbed his CARS and racing to the back of the Eagle to join the firefight.

“Open fire!” Jax ordered, pulling himself back to behind his door, and firing through the downed window. The rubber bullets of four soldiers were shrouded by the 5.56x45mm rounds fired by the six AR-15s as the firefight exploded through the streets of Kravchenka. The bullets impacted the abdomens of the soldiers, who merely bent in pain and raced for the van. “Reloading!” Cooper yelled, releasing his PMAG and inserting a new one, filled with rubber bullets; a disadvantage American MILIPOL forces had in the Imperium.

Finally, the terrorists arrived at the black van, entering through the front two doors to escape the troops. Even then, Jenkins managed to slice a rubber bullet into the face of one of the terrorists, nearly knocking him unconscious as he fell to the floor. Knowing they would have to leave him behind, one of them managed to take careful aim and returned fire, hitting Jenkins through the upper right pectoral and slamming him back into the Eagle.

“Jenkins is hit!” Jax yelled, spreading his fire towards the van with more viciousness as he intended to check on him. Taking no chances, the terrorists slammed the door and raced off, leaving their comrade behind. Michael and James fired on the back windows, the speed of the rubber bullets breaking the glass and bouncing through the interior, whilst Cooper and Jax raced to check Jenkins.

“He”s hit bad, Captain,” the sergeant said, looking at the wound that had managed to penetrate his his KEVLAR Grade A vest, “those guys are armed with armor piercing rounds. The bullet cut right through his vest.”

“How critical?” Jax asked.

“From what I can see, the bullet trajectory may have punctured his lung. We need MEDEVAC, now.”

“Get on it, sergeant.”

“Get down on the ground!” Michael said, as he watched the attacker trying to get up. He didn”t seem to cease, but before Michael could aim and fire, Jax grabbed his CARS and fired another three rubber bullets into the side of his head, clearly knocking him out.

Just three minutes later, the noise of an HH-60M helicopter echoed through the streets, quickly landing in the center of the road and opening its doors. Jax and Cooper carried Jenkins to the chopper whilst Michael and James recovered the unconscious body of the attacker. After Jenkins was mounted onto a bed, Jax moved to one of the Imperials and said, “We managed to get one of the attackers.” As he pointed towards the body of the terrorist, he said, “all yours.”

As Jax exit the helicopter to head back to the Eagle, he heard Cooper calling out for him. When he turned, Cooper said, “Captain, the medic...he says Jenkins isn”t going to make it. The bullet punctures his lung. The best they can do is make it painless.”

Jax closed his eyes and exhaled. As a soldier – a captain, no less – he had always understood the possibility that he would lose men in a combat scene, but even when he served in Olmatur did he not lose a single man; instead, he loses one in MILIPOL.

Nodding, he said, “I”ll notify Command.” He turned in silence, walking back to the Combat Eagle, grabbing his gun by the MOE stock.

“God dammit,” he thought.

by **Super Bwitain** » Sat Feb 02, 2013 2:47 pm

The outskirts of Kravchenka

Jasper lay on the hardwood floor of his study. Staring up at the fan attached to the ceiling. Anyone looking in from the outside would think he had some sort of weird fascination with fans and their movements. When in reality,he was desperately trying to take his mind off the recent news he had received from one of his subordinates. Six men -presumed terrorists- had broken into Stormfront Arms and taken a large amount of plastic explosive. A man, who had yet to be named, sent out a call of distress to the local Imperial police station, who in turn sent out a signal and the closest unit which could respond was an American squad, who although succeeded in capturing one of the insurgents, lost one of their own.

Jasper rose from the floor and walked over to his desk, where he picked up the telephone and dialed the number for Ministry of Defence. He was quickly put through to the minister who led the MoD, whom he explained the dire situation to. The minister agreed to bolster Imperial presence on the streets of Kravchenka. Satisfied, Jasper hung up the phone and went out and stood on his balcony. Something was about to happen. Something big.

The Kravchenka industrial sector

Hours after the phone call between Jasper and the Minister of Defence. Imperial presence in the industrial sector had doubled. There was now at least one squadron within ten minutes of any other squadron should there be any trouble. The public would most likely be suspicious as to why there were so many armed soldiers patrolling the area. They would be lied to, of course. It would be shown as a way to combat the high crime levels in the industrial sector, not a way to catch a group of terrorists who had stolen explosives from an up and coming weapons company.

Blackrock Military Base

In a small, dirty and dark room, a blindfolded male sat tied to a chair. Sweat pouring down his face, he knew he was in deep shit. He had been the only one to be hit during the firefight with American forces, he was the only one to be captured, he was the only tied to a chair in a filthy room and he was the only one who was about to be interrogate by an Imperial soldier. Outside the small room, was Stryker. A decorated war hero who a helped put down the Scorpion rebellion and reestablish coalition control over the Scorpion mainland. He was a soldier of the elite Imperial special forces known as the Falcons and a highly ranked one at that. He looked through the one way glass into the room the terrorist was trapped in, sighed and then entered.

The prisoner heard the noise of a door opening and groaned heavily. His time had come, he was about to experience pain but he would not be broken by Imperial tools of hurt. Suddenly, a voice spoke out to him, "You, are a terrorist, you and five other men have stolen explosives from Stormfront arms. You have been captured and you will tell me what I want to know or you will feel pain. Understand?" The prisoner just spat in the direction that the voice came from and in return felt the force of a fist crash against the side of his face, sending a tooth spiraling out of his mouth and onto the floor in front of him. "Now, Stryker said, "what is your group attempting to accomplish and where can they be found? The prisoner remained silent, unwilling to betray his comrades. Stryker produced a knife from his combat belt and handled it menacingly. "Well, this is going to get interesting."

The outskirts of Kravchenka

It had been hours since Jasper had made the call and in that time he had been notified that Imperial forces had increased their numbers in the industrial sector and that the interrogation of the captured prisoner had begun. This pleased Jasper, what did not please him was that five men were on the loose and had a large amount of plastic explosive. Jasper walked over to his computer and began to write and email:

To: General Ronald Dewing
From: Jasper Delemond, High Lord of The Imperium

As I am sure you have been notified, a situation involving six men, plastic explosive and your troops has arisen. I am aware that one of your troops died in a firefight with the terrorists and I can tell you that the terrorist that had been captured is currentley being interrogated by one of greatest soldiers the Imperium has.

I would like it if you came and met with me at my manison on the outskirts of Kravchenka so we could talk about this face to face/

Yours sincerely,
Jasper Delemond.

by **Xanixi** » Sat Feb 02, 2013 5:19 pm

“Sir,” the operator said, walking towards the General with a printed-out document gathered from the intelligence units stationed across Kravchenka. They weren’t breaking international law with their operations, but were gathering information on Imperial proceedings for American troops, directly from Imperial officials themselves.

The operator said nothing more, handing General Dewing the document and returning to his console deep within the confines of the facility. Around the General was a large circle of monitors, consoles and operators, gathering information and distributing them around the entire battalion; several dozen MILIPOL Eagles still roamed the streets, and it was their information that kept them updated.

After rapidly reading the report, Dewing walked to the operator and asked, “What is the progress on this augmentation?”

“It’s been hours and Imperial military presence in the industrial sector has already been doubled. Added with distributed American forces, who have a decent concentration in the sector, and there’s more soldiers than buildings.”

Dewing nodded and returned to the center of the room, from which he could observe the large monitor which displayed a green map of the city, with a highlighted blue area indicating the industrial sector where, hours before, an American had lost his life.

“Do the Imperials need augmented American reaction time?” the General asked to one of the operators, analyzing the map closely still.

“Doubt it, General Dewing. They seem to have everything under control.”

“Sir,” one of the operators yelled quickly, turning his back to the terminal and switching his point of concern to the general.

“What is it, Private?” he replied, looking at the operator.

“We’ve received a message from High Lord Jasper. He’s requesting to meet with you at his mansion on the outskirts of Kravchenka.”

Dewing sighed. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of leaving his military installation, especially after the death of one of his soldiers. But it was obvious; he was the highest ranking American military officer on this side of the ocean, and he had been authorized by the Council to speak on behalf of America to Imperial forces. Perhaps meeting the High Lord to discuss a military response was not a bad idea; he was almost certain his men weren’t meeting their desires out there.

“Major General Hawkings, you’re in command until I return from the meeting. Understood?” he ordered, turning his head back to the Major General who lurked around the consoles further out.

“Yes, sir!” Hawkings replied.

Within minutes, Dewing had gone to the small air-pad built at the army base and mounted an MAH-8 Little Cub which took him to the exteriors of the city, flying directly towards the mansion. Dewing kept to himself to the trip, though the pilot and co-pilot talked casually between themselves.

As the rotor-wings of the aircraft flapped slower and slower, Dewing planted his feet on the floor of the helipad and walked to meet the guards that had been waiting for his arrival. Without saying a single word, he waited for them to take him to meet the famous High Lord.