NATION

PASSWORD

Conspiracy to War (MT, PMT)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In-character]
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Kommandoria
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 367
Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Conspiracy to War (MT, PMT)

Postby Kommandoria » Mon Aug 29, 2011 11:59 am

It was a sunny day at the Lolzieristani embassy in Kommandoria's kapitol city of Konigzspire. Diplomats and other Lolzi civilians wandered the building and its courtyard. A man wearing a trench coat approached the checkpoint to the embassy. His fedora hid most of his face under a shadow. The Lolzi guard looked at him suspiciously. "Papers?", he asked. The man remained silent and hidden. The guard frowned and said it again, more firm this time. "Papers." Then suddenly, time seemed to slow down. The man flung away his trench coat and hat. He had a Kommandorian flag wrapped like a bandana around his head. His torso was shirtless, and his body had been tattooed with the same flag. On his back, chest, and legs he carried everything from machine guns and SMGs to pistols and grenades. The guard opened his mouth to scream but the stranger whipped out two Uzis from his hips and unloaded dozens of bullets into the checkpoint guards. Several people in the courtyard shouted and yelled in fear and began to make a run for the embassy building. The stranger pulled and M60 from his back and began mowing down civilians. The courtyard was drenched in blood and bodies lie scattered about. The M60 jammed after firing about 78 rounds and he dropped the gun, now pulling out his dual M9's. He sprinted through the embassy doors and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Heil der Kyzar!". He shot person after person when, finally, several security guards rushed in and attempted to shoot him. He took a bullet to the stomach and clutched it. He dove behind a desk as the guards drew close to him. He grabbed at the rings on the belt of grenades wrapped around his chest. "S'nami bog! Heil der Kyzar!". The guards surrounded him, and he detonated. The blast tore the base floor from the building and the entire embassy collapsed. An hour later, firemen and police gathered around the scene of carnage. Only three survivors were found. Lolzi investigators had arrived to find out what had happened. A man bleeding from his shoulder told them about the incident. The other survivors confirmed what he had said. The investigators sifted through the wreckage and found a few small burnt notes. One of the notes had a name on it...Auberwitz...
Last edited by Kommandoria on Wed Aug 31, 2011 12:12 pm, edited 3 times in total.
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



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Lolzieristan
Minister
 
Posts: 3214
Founded: Jun 28, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Lolzieristan » Mon Aug 29, 2011 1:39 pm

Presidential Manor, Lolzi City, Lolzieristan
President Nikolai Beslavaky stood up from the dinner table as guards rushed into the room, and they led him to the Manor's underground command center. His pork chops left where they sat with only two bites eaten.
"What the hell is going on here, Guardsman?", he demanded, pointing his question at the highest-ranking Federal Guardsman in the hurried procession. The Guardsman, clutching a PP-2000 in his hands, replied, "Sir, there's been a terrorist attack on our embassy in Kommandoria!"
Beslavaky stopped in his tracks, and the other Guardsmen had to physically shove him to keep him moving. He began collecting himself, and asked, after a few seconds, "How many?"
Another man in a military dress uniform looked at him quizzically, and asked, "How many what, sir?"

"How many casualties?"

The uniformed man, who happened to be the commander of the Lolzi Military Intelligence Agency, took a long time answering. When he sufficiently steeled himself to answer, he replied, "Sixty-one dead, eighty wounded or missing. By our initial counts alone."
President Beslavaky gagged, suppressing the urge to vomit. "How the fuck did that happen? Did someone set off a firebomb?"
General Alexander Volodya grimaced, and replied, "I think it would be better...better to watch it happen yourself."
They had reached the concealed entrance to the command center by now, and after the President was led down the dim and cramped staircase, he sat down in front of a bank of TV monitors. "These here on the left are news reports," Volodya explained, pointing to four different monitors displaying four different stations, all broadcasting some variant of "Breaking News". Volodya continued, "This monitor here is what would interest you most, Mr. President. We've compiled all of the various camera shots the attacker appeared in. Roll the tape, comrade." The screen flickered to life, as an instantly suspicious man was being confronted by a COIN Embassy Security operative at the outer gate of the compound. Beslavaky's eyes widened when the man tossed off his disguise, and revealed a complex and equipment-laden webbing underneath. "What the fuck..."
All four of the checkpoint guards, bearing assault rifles due to the heightened security stances, levelled their rifles as one, but they were too slow to fire a shot as the man's twin sub-machine guns cut them all down. It was entirely alien to watch the slaughter from the birds-eye view provided by the security cameras under the balcony, and even more so from the lack of audio. The camera angle cut suddenly to a camera mounted in the corner of the entrance corridor, as the man sprinted through the heavy doors, dropping a machine gun and drawing twin pistols in one fluid motion. He fired multiple soundless shots into the chests and heads of civillians and guards alike. Four guards ambushed him at once, swinging up from behind armored receptionists' desks. They opened fire, but Beslavaky's eyes were drawn to the man's chest, as he negotiated with some equipment on his belt. "Dear God...anti-tank grenades!"
The feed cut out suddenly, as the entire building collapsed upon itself. "That man...that man is a Rambo."
Volodya nodded, and replied, "More like a Neo, sir...but who was he? That is the question."
Beslavaky's eyes narrowed, and he growled, through clenched teeth, "I want to know. NOW."
Last edited by Lolzieristan on Mon Aug 29, 2011 1:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sometimes I'm reading through military threads here, and I stop and think "What the hell is wrong with all of us?" But then I get on Facebook, and realize I'd rather be insane than an idiot.
04/17/13: Got my wish, it seems, in terms of major depressive disorder. I'm sorry to everyone for any inactivity, it's...well, hard.

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Kauvara
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 483
Founded: May 10, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Kauvara » Mon Aug 29, 2011 2:32 pm

KAUVARAN OFFICE OF STRATEGIC OPERATIONS
VULPES, IMPERIUM OF KAUVARA
08:56 HOURS


Tech Sergeant Azten raced through the halls of the KOSO complex. While the complex had an impressive above-ground building, that was mostly only used for public relations business. It was the sprawling underground complex where the true work was done. In his hand was clutched a report. He burst through the office doors of Colonel Richard Furst, the current head of Observation Division "Kommandoria" (ObsDivKom). "Sergeant! Calm down! What is it?" "Sir!" he replied breathlessly. "The Lolzi embassy in Konigzpire has been bombed!"
"What??? The war just ended! Who did it??"
"It appears it was a Kommandorian ultranationalist!"
"Damn..." Furst thought. "Dismissed, Sergeant."
TSgt. Azten left. Furst got onto his computer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TO: <REDACTED>
FROM: Colonel Richard Furst, ObsDivKom, KOSO
ENCRYPTION: VERY HIGH
SUBJECT: <none>

As I am sure you already know, we have detected a large explosion in Lolzieristan. It appears to be the work of Kommandorian ultranationalists. We doubt the Lolzieristani government knows this, however. I recommend IKSF Cell "Kommandorium" be activated. The Kommandorians and Lolzieristani will be too busy with each other to uncover the truth. Our nation is the scalpel of the Darklands. We can use one highly-specialized team of IKSF Operators to uncover what happened, and bring it to light.

-Col. R. Furst
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


<><><><><><>


LOCATION UNKNOWN
UNKNOWN
08:58 HOURS


Gloved hands bearing the emblem of the IKSF deftly moved across a keyboard.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
TO: IKSF Cell "Kommandorium"
FROM: <REDACTED>
ENCRYPTION: NIGH UNBREAKABLE
SUBJECT: <none>
ATTACHMENT(S): 2

TINCIDUNT - REVELO


ATTACHMENT 1: Report on embassy attack
ATTACHMENT 2: Intelligence on Kommandorian ultranationalist faction
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


<><><><><>


URBAN DISTRICT OF KONIGZSPIRE
KONIGZSPIRE, KOMMANDORIA
09:00 HOURS


Deep in the old manufacturing district of Kommandoria, High-Level Operator Cpt. Julius Kydno awoke with a start as his computer activated in the old appartment. A message flashed across the screen. He slowly got up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Mid-Level Operator Lt. Sara McGran woke up next to him. "What is it, Julius...?" she muttered, her voice tired. "A communique. Looks like we have orders..." Sara got up, her shirtless body shivering slightly in the cold Kommandorian air. "I'll go inform the Lowies (OOC: IKSF slang for Low-Level Operators) and get them assembled by the clocktower," she said. "Alright, I'll meet you there once I get ML-Operator Richard Letkov from his observation post." The two got up and dressed in their civilian clothes. "Get moving, Sara," Kydno told her. "I'm going, I'm going," she replied. McGran kissed him on the cheek, then rushed out the door. "Damn... Time to stop an international war..." Kydno thought to himself.


<><><><><><>


NORTH FACE OF MT. KAALTYR
MT. KAALTYR, KOMMANDORIA
09:02 HOURS


A figure in old Kommandorian fatigues walked into an abandoned bunker, long swallowed by the massive mountain. The air was chilled, and a light snow fell. Another figure demanded a passcode. "Vespucci XIII," he replied. The door opened, and we walked in. "Welcome back, Lucius," the guard said. The ramshackle exterior of the bunker severely contradicted the inside. Computers were everywhere. One massive monitor tracked the movements of both the Lolzi military forces and the Kommandorian forces. Lucius walked in. "Kommander, sir, the mission was a success. Konrad succeeded in destroying the Lolzi embassy," he told a man shrouded in darkness. "Excellent," he replied. "Add his name to the Wall of Martyrs." Lucius walked over to an old Italian flag used by the first Kommandorians in 1688. Hundreds of names adorned it. He cut himself, writing the name "Konrad Vernstaag" into the flag with his blood. "Attention KUP members! Soon, the Lolzi military will engage the Kommandorians! With any luck, that foolish government will try to have peace. When it does, we will rise up, and the people will welcome us as saviors! They will rally behind us, and once more Kommandoria will be feared throughout the world!" A warcry went up in the room. "Soon..." the dark figure said.
Last edited by Kauvara on Mon Aug 29, 2011 3:42 pm, edited 6 times in total.

We're a PMT/FT nation of humans. That's right, just humans. Not psychic supermen, nor crazy cyborgs, nor massive mutants. Just normal human homo sapiens trying to make our way in this insane galaxy full of wonders, horrors, and everything in between.

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Kommandoria
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Posts: 367
Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kommandoria » Mon Aug 29, 2011 4:31 pm

Inside the Krieg Grid...

Superior High General Klaus von Auberwitz sat in his private quarters. He had been staring at a wall for what felt like forever.

A lance korporal knocked.

Auberwitz: Enter.

LK: Sir, can I get you anything?

Auberwitz: ...Gin.

LK: Yes sir.

The lance korporal left. Auberwitz clasped his hands over his face. It had grown dark under his eyes from lack of sleep. Only he and one other man knew of the deed that had been done. Would everything go according to plan? He had supplied the KUP with the arms necessary to tear the Lolzi embassy apart. The other man supplied the training. Now the Lolzis would crave revenge and attack Kommandoria. But this time it would be on our terms. They would avenge the deaths of all those lost in the Darksnow War...the only question was...what happened to the KUP after the attack...?
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



User avatar
Lolzieristan
Minister
 
Posts: 3214
Founded: Jun 28, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Lolzieristan » Mon Aug 29, 2011 7:41 pm

Volodya and two of his subordinates sat in his office in the command center of the Presidential Manor. They were working as hard as they could, and since the President was stopping in once every half-hour or so, the heat was on. One man was trying to ascertain the man's identity with experimental facial recognition software, and in the meantime, attempting to find the man's face the old-fashioned way, going page-by-page in their archives of known Kauvaran, Prizyetsan, and especially Kommandorian special forces operators. This is a waste of time, Lieutenant Colonel Tsaikorov thought to himself as he thumbed through the paper copies. Odds are this man doesn't even officially exist, looking at how much training and dedication he had.'
The second man was an expert in the planning and execution of foreign special forces missions, given the fact that he had served in at least one branch of almost every nation's special forces under various names. He was going by his given name now, Colonel Viktor Rhezna. "Well, sir," he started off, gesturing to the TV monitor he had done the morbid play-by-play on. "This is, of course, a Kommandorian flag around his head, so there's a clue...but that's obvious, any eleven year old could have tacked that detail on. This Kommandorian flag...tattoo...is a nice touch, too, but hell, it could still be any given nation that's framing the Kommos up." He advanced the film about twenty seconds, to the point where his M60 jammed. "That's Kommandorian technique right there, sir...lemme play this in slow motion." He advanced the tape at half-speed, and Volodya's eyes were drawn to the man's hands, as he tried to clear the jammed machine gun. "I'll take your word for it...", Volodya said doubtfully, but he gestured for the specialist to proceed. "Now, look at the guy's face. If you're any good at lip reading, you can see he's shouting something like Heil der Kyzar."
Volodya looked at him expectantly.
"...Kommandorian phrase, sir. Something a crazy nationalist bastard would be shouting, if he were to shoot up an embassy."
Volodya nodded, and the man continued.

Suddenly, a courier in military fatigues rushed in.
"Sir, new evidence!"
He pulled a manilla folder from his satchel, handed it to Volodya, and stood in a nervously expectant posture.
Alexander opened it, and found himself looking at a crime scene photo...a scrap of yellowed parchment, scorched by flames.
"Auberwitz...as in Supreme General Auberwitz, or whatever?"
"Yes sir, Superior High General Auberwitz, Klaus von!"
The soldier saluted, and Volodya returned it. Quite the lead we've got here. His mind added on the infamous question, always asked by those of the intelligence community...
Is it a trap?
Last edited by Lolzieristan on Mon Aug 29, 2011 7:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sometimes I'm reading through military threads here, and I stop and think "What the hell is wrong with all of us?" But then I get on Facebook, and realize I'd rather be insane than an idiot.
04/17/13: Got my wish, it seems, in terms of major depressive disorder. I'm sorry to everyone for any inactivity, it's...well, hard.

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Kauvara
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 483
Founded: May 10, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Kauvara » Mon Aug 29, 2011 8:27 pm

IRONRIDGE DOCKS
IRONRIDGE, KOMMANDORIA
23:54 HOURS


A black van approached the dock. The side door slid open. Out stepped Cpt. Julius Kydno, 1Lt. Sara McGran, and 2Lt. Richard Letkov. Kydno was a tall man, with jet-black hair. He was mostly business, but he still maintained that bemused facet that many soldiers had. In short, he was the sarcastic professional, and the High-Level Operator leader of the Kommandorian IKSF unit, having been pulled from the IKGF. McGran stood in at just under six feet. She had short blonde hair, falling just above her ears. Other than with Julius, she was very professional and official, taking the spot of one of two subcommanders, ranking at Mid-Level Operator, receiving her recommendation for the IKSF due to her leadership skills developed in the IKGF. Letkov was the unit's tech expert. He had just joined the IKAC, having recently turned 18, but his incredible ability with computers and other tech caused him to rise through the ranks quickly. He was chosen for the IKSF due to this amazing affinity, and appointed with a Mid-Level Operator status.

The night was pitch black, the moon shrouded by clouds. The only lights were the dull yellow ones illuminating the dock. A biting cold whipped into the faces of the three as they stepped out of the van. The cold even penetrated the heavy coats they were wearing. Kydno waved his hand, and the van drove off. The group melded with the shadows. They approached the entrance to the docks. An opening in a chainlink fence was the only opening. However, two Kommandorian soldiers stood in front of it. Kydno motioned to McGran, and the two split up. Letkov remained where he was, wishing he could go with. "Ah, well..." he though. "I gotta prove to them I can do more than just tech!"

"Why do we always pull the short straw, Franz?" one of the guards told the other.
"Hey man, I appreciate the hours. I got a wife and kids to feed. Anyway, what do you think of this whole Lolzi thing?" the other guard responded.
"Well, I for one can't wait to get back at those Lolzi bastards. Hopefully DuPont votes in favor of the war bill. My brother served under DiBartolo on the Blood Ruby. Those foreign fuckers killed him."
"Right, bu-" he was cut off as a pair of arms grabbed him, and he passed out along with his partner.

"Nice work, Sa-... McGran," Kydno whispered. He motioned to Letkov. He ran over, his boots making loud noises on the wooden dock. "Dammit, Letkov!" McGran whispered harshly. "Sorry! Sorry!" he whispered back. The group moved through the now unguarded opening.

"What are we looking for?" Letkov asked eagerly. "We've received intel that the weapons sold to the ultranationalists came through here. We need to find a shipping manifest. One of them should have the weapons on it. Whoever signed off on it should give us some sort of clue as to where to go next," Kydno answered, the group creeping down the pier to the main office.

There were no lights on in the office. The dock was closed, and the workers had all gone home. "Letkov, get this door open," Kydno ordered. "Roger that," he answered. She pulled out a lockpicking set, and went to work. "McGran, take up a position over there behind those crates. If anybody approaches, throw something into the water. We'll hide if we hear the splash," Kydno continued. McGran wordlessly moved over to the designated position. "Got it!" Letkov whispered. "By the Fox, Letkov, keep silent unless spoken to!" McGran whispered back across the pier. Letkov blushed, and he and Kydno entered the office.

A large computer sat against one of the walls. "Bingo... Letkov, get on it. Find anything useful," Kydno ordered. "Yes, sir," Letkov eagerly answered. He turned it on, hacked in, and began searching. Kydno took the moment of peace to contemplate his situation. He and his team were the only things standing in the way of another world war. It was quite a responsibility. What if they fai-? "Found something!" Letkov excitedly whispered. Kydno looked over his shoulder. On the screen was the order for the weapons the ultranationalist who attacked the embassy used, as well as more of the same models. "Let's see... Directed to 'Village XIII...' What does that mean...?" Kydno thought.
"Sir, look! The signature! Do you recognize those letters?" Letkov interjected.
"Not specifically, no. But I recognize what alphabet they're from. It's an old Kommandorian dialect, back before they revolutionized the country in 1888. It's only still spoken in one place: the foothills around Mt. Kaaltyr. We have a contact in one of the villages: Scipio. That's where we're going next," Kydno answered.

Kydno and Letkov walked out, signalling for McGran to follow. They left the dock, got back into the van, and drove off into the night.


OOC: I think posting in an orderly fashion works well here :) Kommandoria, Lolzieristan, then Kauvara
Last edited by Kauvara on Tue Aug 30, 2011 12:15 am, edited 2 times in total.

We're a PMT/FT nation of humans. That's right, just humans. Not psychic supermen, nor crazy cyborgs, nor massive mutants. Just normal human homo sapiens trying to make our way in this insane galaxy full of wonders, horrors, and everything in between.

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Kommandoria
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 367
Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kommandoria » Mon Aug 29, 2011 10:19 pm

Location unknown...

A KUP member sat in an ancient wooden chair. His arms were tied to the back of the chair; his arms were painfully bent. An equally-ancient lamp shed a pale yellow light on him, but revealed nothing about where he was. He sat...in a void of darkness. He had just woken up and felt a severe pain on the back of his head, as though he had been struck unconscious. He could feel his warm blood flowing down the back of his neck. A deep, raspy voice beckoned him from the heart of the darkness. "Hello, Thomas."
Thomas was parched. "Who...who are you?"
His question was greeted by an unholy silence. Then, a photo fluttered quietly out of the dark void. It was of his wife and children. The voice spoke again. "Lovely family you have there...Thomas..."
Thomas was on the brink of madness. He shouted into the void, "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"
The void taunted him with its silence.
The voice spoke. "It would be a shame if that family found a disfigured carcass dangling out of one of Ironridge's sewer pipes."
Thomas shuddered. "Leave my family out of this you sick bastard! I'll ask again! Who the hell are you?!"
The voice bellowed. "I am a dark myth. A boogeyman story. The stuff of nightmares. And I will ask the questions."
Thomas angrily shouted, "At least show your face, coward!"
A shadowy figure emerged from the pitch black. He wore an all black leather trench coat with a black fedora. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses.
Thomas suddenly felt a sense of confidence and spat at the man, yelling "Spawn of Satan!".
The man calmly wiped the saliva from his cheek and responded in a deep whisper, "Child, Satan learned to do what he does from me."
Thomas broke into a cold sweat and his heart thumped.
The man lit a fat cigar and blew a cloud of smoke through his nose. It lingered in the air like an evil fog. "Tell me, Thomas. Do you love Kommandoria?"
Thomas, being a young member of the KUP, responded almost fanatically. "With every ounce of my being!"
Suddenly the man struck Thomas across the face with the back of his hand, so hard that Thomas' nose began to bleed.
"Then explain to me, Thomas, why your party would instigate a war that would threaten the safety of the nation THAT YOU LOVE SO DAMNED MUCH?!"
Thomas was still recoiling from the blow.
"What was his name, Thomas? WHAT WAS HIS NAME?!"
Again the man struck Thomas, whose busted lip began to bleed.
"SPEAK!"
Thomas raised his head and the man restrained himself. Thomas spoke. "Konrad--", Thomas spat some blood, "Vernstaag".
The dark figure smiled sinisterly. "Ahhh...now we are getting somewhere. So tell me this, where could he have possibly gotten such incredible training, let alone the weapons he applied the training to?"
Thomas looked at the man and smirked. "Go to hell."
The man frowned, but only for a split-second. Then he smirked back and inhaled from his cigar. The end of it glowed a bright orange. He exhaled and swerved around, jamming the end of the cigar into Thomas' eye.
"EEEEEYAHHHAHHH!!"
The man pulled the cigar back and inhaled from it again.
Thomas whimpered and hung his head low. He mumbled. "The weap...weapons...Auberwitz..."
Then the man smiled and asked, "And the training?".
Thomas looked up at the man's hidden face. Thomas' eye was burned horribly. He spoke in a whisper, "I...I don't know..."
The man frowned again, but it stayed this time. He sighed and reached into a pocket in his coat. He retrieved from it a scalpel. "And here I was thinking you would make the pain go away, just by answering a few easy questions."
He held the scalpel against Thomas' neck.
"I would suggest answering me, or I'll have to carve a smile on you like a Halloween pumpkin, and I do so love carving pumpkins."
Thomas' will finally broke and he burst into tears. "I don't know! I don't...know..."
The man could tell that was all he would get from the KUP member. This boy Thomas knew nothing of the training. The dark man put the scalpel back in his pocket and waved at the surrounding darkness. Two more men in black trench coats emerged and stood at attention. The dark man spoke, "Erase his memory of the last five hours and reconstruct his face back to the way it was. I don't want any evidence of my handiwork to be visible. Then dump him on the porch of his house."
The two men silently obeyed and dragged the now-unconscious Thomas into the darkness...
Last edited by Kommandoria on Mon Aug 29, 2011 10:33 pm, edited 3 times in total.
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



User avatar
Kommandoria
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 367
Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kommandoria » Mon Aug 29, 2011 10:20 pm

OOC: I won't be back on till about 11:00 CST. Cya!
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



User avatar
Scocialist Provinces
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1323
Founded: Apr 02, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Scocialist Provinces » Tue Aug 30, 2011 11:12 am

OoC: school starts tommorow, so my inactivity will skyrocket :palm:

iC: "What... is this insanity!" Keriolenko yelled as he reveiwed the brand new footage of the shooting "What sick bastard would do that!?"

"A spartan?" Maximus the first joked to his second "He's a Kommandorian at heart, but he's served many nations. I don't know his real name, but he served the DSP as 'Fredrick Mason'. You see that grenade toss?" Maximus pointed out as the gunman vigorously tossed a grenade across ther room "Only a DSPSO knows how to throw like that. Well, mabe a professional baseball player might, but we dont have many baseball players here in the Darklands."

Keriolenko raised an eyebrow and sipped his coffee before rewinding the footage "Even though we're still hostile with Kommandoria, they're going to want to know this. Lolzieristan will defenitly beg us for it, should we tell them both?" Keriolenko asked

"Yes, and make it quick. If he managed to infultrate the DSP, the organization will probably have operatives here. A meeting between leaders may also be apropriate, request that too." Maximus answered while walking out of the room. He was 81 now, and his days nearing the end. Keriolenko, the sucsessor, was 32, and still young.



"What to write..." Keriolenko asked himself whilst downloading the DSP-K encryption "ok..." Cracking his knuckles, he began to type:


Code: Select all
To: All Darkland Sovereign leaders
From: the DSP
Encryption: [color=#FF0040]very high[/color]

The recent shootings in Kommandoria have recently been brought to our attention. This has had no devestating effect on our side of the region, but we fear that whatever organization has sleepers all across it. The gunman's name in the DSP was Fredrick Mason. He served in the DSPSO as a luiftainant for 3 years in the GK wars, then dissapeared. What surprised us, is that when we did not know his true nature, and Maximus men the troops personally, he did not kill O'l max. It may have just been that their ambitions were not that high, or they were planning the shooting. Either way, this is a terrible ocurrence, and I would like to request a meeting between leaders in a nutral nation.

Hope you consider,

Keriolenko, sucsessor to Maximus the first.
I'd do something fancy for my sig, but I've no idea how. So here's some french.

Vous voulez de savoir plus sur moi ou mon Etat-Nation? Cliquez sur cette 'spoiler'.
The quick overview of this nation?
A Fascist Meritocracy with strong Jingoist and Anti-Religion beliefs.

"I have become death-- Destroyer of worlds."
-J. Robert Oppenheimer

This Nation's compass:
Economic Left/Right: -2.25
Social Up/Down: 8.00

My Real Life compass:
Economic Left/Right: -5.00
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: 4.62

Here are me' 'ol factbooks. Give em' a read if you've got the time, maybe tell me what I'm getting horribly, horribly wrong.

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Kauvara
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 483
Founded: May 10, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Kauvara » Tue Aug 30, 2011 11:26 am

OOC: You mightwant to reread the comments >.> Gunman has already been established as a Kommandorian ultranationalist

We're a PMT/FT nation of humans. That's right, just humans. Not psychic supermen, nor crazy cyborgs, nor massive mutants. Just normal human homo sapiens trying to make our way in this insane galaxy full of wonders, horrors, and everything in between.

User avatar
Kommandoria
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 367
Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kommandoria » Tue Aug 30, 2011 11:47 am

OOC: Future poster please disregard the DSP's post.
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



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Scocialist Provinces
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Posts: 1323
Founded: Apr 02, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Scocialist Provinces » Tue Aug 30, 2011 11:50 am

Kauvara wrote:OOC: You mightwant to reread the comments >.> Gunman has already been established as a Kommandorian ultranationalist


agh, godamn my reading skills!!! I thought it said he served several nations, learning them inside-out. Balls, let's just say that fredrick was a recently comprimised ultranationalist sleeper agent in the DSP that we are offering to pass his costody over to other nations. does that work?
I'd do something fancy for my sig, but I've no idea how. So here's some french.

Vous voulez de savoir plus sur moi ou mon Etat-Nation? Cliquez sur cette 'spoiler'.
The quick overview of this nation?
A Fascist Meritocracy with strong Jingoist and Anti-Religion beliefs.

"I have become death-- Destroyer of worlds."
-J. Robert Oppenheimer

This Nation's compass:
Economic Left/Right: -2.25
Social Up/Down: 8.00

My Real Life compass:
Economic Left/Right: -5.00
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: 4.62

Here are me' 'ol factbooks. Give em' a read if you've got the time, maybe tell me what I'm getting horribly, horribly wrong.

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Kommandoria
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Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kommandoria » Tue Aug 30, 2011 12:00 pm

OOC: Orrr you could just delete your post bc his name wasn't even Fredrik lol
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



User avatar
Scocialist Provinces
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1323
Founded: Apr 02, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Scocialist Provinces » Tue Aug 30, 2011 12:09 pm

OoC: Look, i'm a terrible reader :(, and am disabled at deleting stuff (I don't know how)
I'd do something fancy for my sig, but I've no idea how. So here's some french.

Vous voulez de savoir plus sur moi ou mon Etat-Nation? Cliquez sur cette 'spoiler'.
The quick overview of this nation?
A Fascist Meritocracy with strong Jingoist and Anti-Religion beliefs.

"I have become death-- Destroyer of worlds."
-J. Robert Oppenheimer

This Nation's compass:
Economic Left/Right: -2.25
Social Up/Down: 8.00

My Real Life compass:
Economic Left/Right: -5.00
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: 4.62

Here are me' 'ol factbooks. Give em' a read if you've got the time, maybe tell me what I'm getting horribly, horribly wrong.

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Kommandoria
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 367
Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kommandoria » Tue Aug 30, 2011 12:39 pm

OOC: Too late at this point haha just be more careful next time. All future posters please disregard DSP's previous posts.
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



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Kauvara
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Posts: 483
Founded: May 10, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Kauvara » Tue Aug 30, 2011 6:52 pm

OOC: Gonna add a little rule to our "Kommandoria-Lolzieristan-Kauvara" posting order:

If one of the nations doesn't post within 24 hours, it becomes the next nation's turn XD

We're a PMT/FT nation of humans. That's right, just humans. Not psychic supermen, nor crazy cyborgs, nor massive mutants. Just normal human homo sapiens trying to make our way in this insane galaxy full of wonders, horrors, and everything in between.

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Lolzieristan
Minister
 
Posts: 3214
Founded: Jun 28, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Lolzieristan » Tue Aug 30, 2011 8:44 pm

The situation room was bustling with nervous activity. The two guards at the entrance to the 'Blue Room', as it was called, snapped to attention when the President sleepily walked in, led by Volodya. He looked around the room expectantly, and then began to address the man who had brought him down here.
"Comrade, I hope you've made some form of breakthrough. Otherwise, it is one-thirty in the morning, for Christ's sake."
Silently, a uniformed LMI analyst rose, and handed him a screenshot from the attack tape. "We've identified the aggressor. His name is Konrad Vernstaag, a Kommandorian."
Beslavaky nodded, taking in the information and its implications. "But did he receive the weapons and training from the Kommandorian government? I'm not going to justify any form of retaliation if he isn't even affiliated with the leadership." Volodya answered this time.
"We can't prove anything yet, sir, but it looks more and more likely every minute. We found scraps of documents referencing a high-ranking Kommandorian general in the possession of the assailant."
The President sighed, as he knew what this would inevitably lead to. "Bring the threat level down to DEFCON 3."
Sometimes I'm reading through military threads here, and I stop and think "What the hell is wrong with all of us?" But then I get on Facebook, and realize I'd rather be insane than an idiot.
04/17/13: Got my wish, it seems, in terms of major depressive disorder. I'm sorry to everyone for any inactivity, it's...well, hard.

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Kauvara
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Posts: 483
Founded: May 10, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Kauvara » Tue Aug 30, 2011 10:41 pm

VILLAGE OF SCIPIO
FOOTHILLS OF MT. KAALTYR, KOMMANDORIA
04:54 HOURS


The sun was just beginning to rise as a Kommandorian SUV pulled up to the outskirts of the village. There was a grey mist on the ground in the sleepy town. The harsh, cold air stung the throat as it was inhaled. The SUV parked outside the village. Out stepped Kydno, McGran, and Letkov. "Drive 5km. away, but stay on-station," Kydno told the Low-Level Operator who was in the driver's seat. "Yes, sir," he responded, and the SUV pulled away. The town was deathly quiet, without a soul in sight. If not for the IKSF reports, the group would have thought the town was abandoned. "Damn, man, it's really quiet around here..." Letkov muttered.
"Kid's got a point, sir. Where is everybody? There aren't even any lights on in any of the houses," McGran piped in.
"Well, these small towns run on a power curfew. They only get so much per day from solar generators. In any case, I'm sure we'll find so-" Kydno stopped. A door opened "Everybody down, NOW!" he whispered harshly.

A villager stumbled through the door and out into the dirt street. He was followed by two men in heavy winter clothing, clutching AR-15s. On their sleeves was the old pioneer flag of Kommandoria, wrapped around in an armband. One of them knocked him to the ground. "P-p-please! Stop!" the villager stammered. "Silence, dog! This village is ours!" one of the gunmen retorted. He pulled out a pistol, and leveled it at the man's head. "N-no! Don't! Ple-" he was cut off, blood covering his face as two silenced rounds went into the head of the gunman. "What the-?" the other responded, before two more rounds struck him in the forehead, his body slumping to the ground.

Kydno and McGran holstered their silenced USPs. "Good shooting, Sara," Kydno whispered. "You're not so bad yourself, cowboy," she responded, winking. "Hey, what are we whispering about?" Letkov eagerly interjected. Kydno straightened up. "I was just telling McGran here to get that villager on his feet," he said. "Roger that," McGran responded. She walked over to the villager. "Th-thank you..." he stammered. "No problem. Now c'mon, we need to talk to you," McGran whispered to him, guiding him back into the house. Kydno and Letkov followed, closing the door behind them.

"Letkov, watch the door," Kydno ordered. "Yes, sir!" Letkov said back. "Dammit, Letkov! Keep your voice down!" McGran whispered harshly.

Kydno, McGran, and the villager sat at a table in a dusty kitchen. It was old, paint peeling off the walls. Rusted pots and pans sat on a moldy, tile counter. The harsh chill of Kommandoria could even be felt within the drafty home. Kydno spoke first. "What's your name, friend?"
"Gunter... Gunter Richtan..." he answered, his voice weak. He was still shaking.
"Gunter, we need some information," McGran continued. "Can you help us?"
"Ja, sure, of course... What do you need to know?" Richtan responded.
"When did the ultranationalists first arrive here?" Kydno asked.
"About two days ago. They arrived, rounded up all the civilians, and took them somewhere. I hid... I heard gunshots... Screams... I don't think they..." Richtan looked down, his face sullen.
"Hey, Gunter, c'mon, stay with us. We need your help if we're gonna stop this from happening again," McGran said, gentleness in her voice.
"Right, right, sorry," he responded, looking back to Kydno. "I stayed in my attic, where there was a small window. I saw trucks arrive. They had no emblems. But I used to serve in the SI. I'd know those trucks anywhere. They were official Kommandorian military."
"Were there any Kommandorian soldiers with them?" Kydno asked.
"No," Richtan responded. "At least, I don't think so. There were men in the trucks, but they were wearing unmarked uniforms. Ones I've never seen before. They spoke the local language of the foothills, so they must have been from around here. They had no trace of an accent. Anyway, they unloaded a bunch of crates. The ultranationalists took them into a warehouse on the other side of the village, then the trucks drove off. However, there was one odd thing... There was an ultranationalist. They picked him up and took him with. I think they called him 'Brother Konrad.' Anyway, it's been two days since then, and I haven't seen or heard anything."
"Thanks, Gunter," McGran responded. "This is invaluable, and it leads us to our next step. You should get out of here, my friend. Things might get... dangerous around here."
Gunter grimaced. "Like they aren't already...? Don't worry, I'm long gone. Don't need to tell me twice. Veil glucke, my friends."

The three walked back to the entrance. "Letkov, let him go," Kydno ordered. "Roger that, sir," Letkov responded, opening the door. Richtan pulled a revolver from a desk, looked back at the three, and walked out, leaving the village.

"So, warehouse on the other side of the village, eh?" McGran quipped. "Sun's coming up soon. We'd better move quickly." The trio walked out of the house and began their trek across the village. It was desolate. It looked like the neglected villages of the Sovietyeto. There were a few pools of blood mixing with the dirt streets, the deep, coagulate purple mixing with the dull, brown dust. They walked up a small hill. Ahead was the warehouse. In front was a man dressed similarly to the gunmen, an old Kommandorian flag around his arm. He was smoking a cigarette, the bright orange tip lighting his scarred face.

Kydno threw a rock, hitting the side of the old concrete warehouse. The guard spun around, racing to see where the sound came from. Two arms wrapped around his head, and his neck snapped. He fell to the ground, stone dead. "Holy shit, that was awesome, McGran!" Letkov whispered excitedly. "Shut it, Letkov!" she whispered back.

The trio moved slowly towards the main entrance. Kydno peered inside. The warehouse was spacious, wooden crates lining the walls. Various weapons were stacked on top of them. "By the Fox," Kydno thought. "You could outfit an army with all this stuff..." But it was the weapons that were the strangest to him. They were not the standard AR-15s, AK-47s, or other old tech that most terrorist groups used. No, these weapons were very advanced. And they were Kommandorian. "I'm going for a closer look. McGran, Letkov, you two stay out here, and make sure nobody comes in behind me."
"Roger," McGran whispered.
"Yes, sir!" Letkov responded. McGran gave him a dirty look. Letkov blushed.

Kydno slowly walked in. He got up against a stack of crates, and snuck a glance around the corner. There was a guard less than a foot from his face. He whipped his head back, thanking the Fox for his good luck. He slowly pulled out his knife. He yanked the man around the corner, jarring the knife into his neck, covering his mouth with his hand. The man gurgled as Kydno dug the knife around his jugular. "C'mon, you motherfucker, die already!" he whispered. The man's eyes rolled back, and he lay still. Kydno withdrew his knife, wiping the blood off on the ultranationalists coat. He continued forward.

Another guard was ahead of him. Kydno slowly approached behind him, his USP drawn. 10 feet. The guard sighed. 7 feet. Kydno cocked the hammer back. 5 feet. The guard casually turned around. "Fuck." "Achtu-!" the man was cut off as a round silently ripped into his cranium, his body falling to the ground in a heap. "Viktor! Viktor! Vas ist das?" a voice called out. Footsteps began approaching. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." An ultranationalist rounded the corner. "Hey!" he yelled, raising his rifle. Kydno was faster, though. He quickly grabbed the barrel, and shoved the buttstock into the man's shoulder, knocking him to the ground. "Schieze!" the man called out. Kydno was on him in a second. He dug his thumbs into the ultranationalist's eye sockets. He opened his mouth to scream, but Kydno withdrew one hand and brought it down swiftly on his neck, severing his windpipe. The guard began to choke and sputter, but Kydno pulled out his USP, delivering a shot right between his eyes, ending his suffering. Kydno scanned the rest of the warehouse. He got on his radio. "Clear," he whispered.

McGran and Letkov walked inside. "Oh, Fox..." Letkov gagged, looking at the throat of the man Kydno lacerated. "Keep moving, kid. No time to lose," McGran responded. They regrouped in the center of the crates. "Listen up," Kydno began. "I want this warehouse searched top to bottom. Find anything that you can indicating any evide-" he was cut off. "Found something, chief," McGran interjected. "Damn, Sara..." Kydno thought. Letkov and Kydno moved to McGran.

"What is it?" Kydno asked.
"It's a map. It's in that strange language. But I recognize the locations. It's high in the mountains. It looks like the location of where the weapons were destined for. Solid lead if ever I saw one, sir," McGran responded.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Letkov said, excitement in his voice. "Let's go kill us some bad guys! Save the world and all that stuff!"
Kydno and McGran looked at him, then back to each other. "C'mon, kid," McGran said, her voice dry. The trio walked out of the warehouse. Kydno radioed their driver. Once he arrived, the three got in. "Where to?" the Low-Level Operator asked. "Up," Kydno responded. The SUV drove off towards the mountain, the sun casting orange streaks into the now abandoned village of Scipio.

OOC: Sorry if this is too long! I just got REALLY into it, and kinda went on a roll XD If everybody wants me to condense it more next time, just let me know!
Last edited by Kauvara on Wed Aug 31, 2011 2:04 am, edited 3 times in total.

We're a PMT/FT nation of humans. That's right, just humans. Not psychic supermen, nor crazy cyborgs, nor massive mutants. Just normal human homo sapiens trying to make our way in this insane galaxy full of wonders, horrors, and everything in between.

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Kommandoria
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Posts: 367
Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kommandoria » Wed Aug 31, 2011 12:09 pm

The village of Scipio...

A sleek black Hummer with blacked-out windows pulled up to the entrance of the village. The dark figure that had interrogated Thomas stepped out into the snow. It crunched under his feet. Two other men in black trench coats also stepped out. All three men wore black fedoras, sunglasses, and black leather gloves. The leader spoke. "Tazzione. Connahan." The man on his left, Connahan, pulled out a cigar. The man on the right, Connahan, pulled out a lighter. Connahan lit it and Tazzione handed it to the leader. He breathed in the burning tobacco and blew. They trio began walking into the village. It was a mess. Blood drenched the snow. A fight had occurred. The leader raised his hand and his men began looking around. Tazzione spoke up. "This blood. It is old. The fight occurred at least two days ago. No sooner, no later." Connahan opened a door to a house. He peeked in and looked around. Food sat on the table, half-eaten. Drinks had been spilled all over the floor. A few bullet holes and blood stains adorned the wallpaper, which was peeling from the cold. A blood trail led to a bedroom in the back. Connahan drew his M9 and held a flashlight under it. He crept down the hall, looking down the sights of his pistol. He gently peeked into a bathroom halfway down the hall. The mirror had been shattered and the sink was running. He reached to turn it off when he heard a gun cock just behind his head. A voice whispered to him. "I'm going to paint the walls with your brains. Drop the gun and turn around slowly so I can enjoy this." Connahan dropped his M9 and slowly turned around. A man wearing the typical ultranationalist armband was grinning at him. "I've been waiting for two days to ambush any nosey government pricks that happened to stumble in here. I hope you--AGHH!" A serrated combat knife burst through the ultranationalist's chest and jerked around. The man couldn't speak. A dark figure behind him pulled the knife out of his spine and pushed him to the floor. It was the leader, still puffing his cigar. Connahan picked up his weapon. Tazzione came sprinting in behind the leader. "What hap--oh." The ultranationalist was dead but bleeding profusely. "Ehm...we found evidence that suggest the KUP plans on openly rebelling soon. They rounded up most of the town and slaughtered those who resisted. However, it seems someone else got here before us, but after the town was attacked. We found SUV tracks that can't be more than a few hours old." The leader reached down and flipped the dead man over. He had been carrying a G36. That was an uncommon weapon in Kommandoria, used mostly by Hazard Company. So it appeared that Auberwitz had given the rebels advanced weaponry? No...Auberwitz loved his nation too much to cause that. Tazzione spoke. "Sir, a weapons manifest suggests that Auberwitz gave a weapons shipment order to the KUP. But only enough weapons for one man. I compared the handwriting of the order to Auberwitz' signature. They don't match. I believe the KUP may have modified the order without Auberwitz' knowledge." The leader's face was hidden behind his apparel and thick facial hair. He grumbled, "So Auberwitz just made a mistake. It wasn't his intention to arm the whole KUP. But we still need to know who trained the embassy terrorist." The trio left the building and returned to the Hummer. They began to follow the SUV tracks...
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



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Aulzsreich
Civil Servant
 
Posts: 10
Founded: Aug 26, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Aulzsreich » Wed Aug 31, 2011 2:21 pm

Aid is being sent
Last edited by Aulzsreich on Sat Aug 24, 2013 2:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
It does not matter your strength. Superior maneuvering and skill will always defeat higher numbers.
Alliance(none)
National Fact-book Entry:

Colony(s):
None atm

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Kauvara
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Posts: 483
Founded: May 10, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Kauvara » Wed Aug 31, 2011 2:33 pm

Aulzsreich wrote:The Empire of Aulzsreich and the Axis of Popular Order sends whatever military aid deemed necessary to destroy Kommandoria and his/her allies.


OOC: Well, that's up to Kommandoria. He's probably a little busy with this right now, though. If he wants to fight on two fronts, though, then it could be fun to watch! Not only that, but the Kommandorian regulars outnumber the entire population of Aulzsreich by 18:1, and that's only counting the standard infantry! But, hey, to quote Aulzsreich when dismissing O5vxian numbers:

"It does not matter your strength. Superior maneuvering and skill will always defeat higher numbers."
Last edited by Kauvara on Wed Aug 31, 2011 3:23 pm, edited 2 times in total.

We're a PMT/FT nation of humans. That's right, just humans. Not psychic supermen, nor crazy cyborgs, nor massive mutants. Just normal human homo sapiens trying to make our way in this insane galaxy full of wonders, horrors, and everything in between.

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Kommandoria
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Posts: 367
Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kommandoria » Wed Aug 31, 2011 3:25 pm

OOC: The puppet has been removed from existence. Please carry on the thread and disregard irrelevant posts.
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



User avatar
Kauvara
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 483
Founded: May 10, 2011
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Kauvara » Wed Aug 31, 2011 3:29 pm

OOC: Roger that. I await the Lolzi response, then I can continue with the IKSF trek up Mt. Kaaltyr!

We're a PMT/FT nation of humans. That's right, just humans. Not psychic supermen, nor crazy cyborgs, nor massive mutants. Just normal human homo sapiens trying to make our way in this insane galaxy full of wonders, horrors, and everything in between.

User avatar
Aulzsreich
Civil Servant
 
Posts: 10
Founded: Aug 26, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Aulzsreich » Wed Aug 31, 2011 4:10 pm

Kauvara wrote:
Aulzsreich wrote:The Empire of Aulzsreich sends whatever military aid deemed necessary to destroy Kommandoria and his/her allies.


OOC: Well, that's up to Kommandoria. He's probably a little busy with this right now, though. If he wants to fight on two fronts, though, then it could be fun to watch! Not only that, but the Kommandorian regulars outnumber the entire population by 18:1, and that's only counting the standard infantry!
Last edited by Aulzsreich on Sat Sep 28, 2013 7:55 am, edited 1 time in total.
It does not matter your strength. Superior maneuvering and skill will always defeat higher numbers.
Alliance(none)
National Fact-book Entry:

Colony(s):
None atm

User avatar
Kommandoria
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 367
Founded: Apr 18, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kommandoria » Wed Aug 31, 2011 5:30 pm

Aulzsreich wrote:
Kauvara wrote:
OOC: Well, that's up to Kommandoria. He's probably a little busy with this right now, though. If he wants to fight on two fronts, though, then it could be fun to watch! Not only that, but the Kommandorian regulars outnumber the entire population of Aulzsreich by 18:1, and that's only counting the standard infantry! But, hey, to quote Aulzsreich when dismissing O5vxian numbers:

"It does not matter your strength. Superior maneuvering and skill will always defeat higher numbers."

It does not feel very good to have something taken away that was rightfully yours. however, Aulzsreich will fight for what was stolen.

Jesus dude you can have West & Central Europe if you want land so badly. But I can't just snatch huge amounts of land from people whenever.
Stop complaining.
"I will scorch the very grass from your land in a blaze of glory.
I will salt the soil and destroy all hope of recovery.
I will make your nation into a desolate wasteland, a hellish desert of despair.
I will end you, and your very name will be lost from history
."
--The Most High Royal Kyzar, Leonardo de Vespucci XVI



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