De Angelis Falsae Spei [MT: Sondrian Members Only]

[Tiami]

It had been only a few short months since the virus had released upon the Tiamian populace, in what had been named as the 'Princes War'. Millions had died and tens of thousands were gravely ill from the virus, despite the authorities best efforts to put a quarantine measure into effect. In the months that followed, politcal unrest was at an all time high, cases of murder and rape on a drastic increase from the previous year, and the entire populace was on the verge of revolting. Only recently, a vaccine for the virus had been produced and distributed to the affected parts of the region by the Mighty Islands, and although the ever-watching Kylarnatia had secured vaccines for Tiami first, only High ranking individuals were the first to be vaccinated, which severely angered the populace. One in particular, Alfred Von Lin, had been infuriated.


Alfred Von Lin was a former Alkharanian soldier, a veteran of the Kylarnatian-Tiamian War. He was a decorated war hero, earning the White Cross, the nation's greatest honor for defending injured troops from the invading Kylarnatian giants. He was a bulky man, with wide shoulders and a unshaved beard. His eyes were as dark as night, and they struck fear into his prey. To him, it was time to do something, and quickly. Too long had he lived under the leadership of puppets and under the boot of an empire from the land of nightmares. Ten years ago, he fought in the name of democracy, and he was going to do the same again, even if he it cost him his life.

The Grand Boulevard, Dais
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
9:01pm East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 10th May 2012

In the dark alleyways across from the Grand Boulevard, four men stood together, all alike in their black attire. Amongst them was Alfred Von Lin, who stood to the right of the circle of men, his eyes giving off no glimmer in the dim lighting that came across from the boulevard. He had called them to a meeting in order to discuss the government's lack of devotion to the populace regarding the vaccine for the virus. The three men he had called were Turner Jones, a Kylarnatian-Tiamian war veteran who was injured from Kylarnatian mortar fire, Geoffry Grast, whom was also a Kylarnatian-Tiamian war veteran, and Nathan McDuffrey, a former elite Dark Ace soldier.


"Alfred, my dear friend," Turner turned his head towards Alfred, and under his hood cracked a smile. "It's been far too long, has't it?"


"Indeed my friend," Alfred replied with a slight muse, embracing his friend. "Now on to business. The reason I've called you here today is to discuss an urgent danger. Most recently, our nation has been rocked by a deadly virus that has left millions of us dead. Our government has devoted nothing to her own people. This must be stopped!"


"Alfred, how do you on doing this?" Geoffrey questioned. "We can't simple walk up to the Royal Palace and take control of the government?"


Alfred turned to Geoffrey and stared at him with his cold, dead eyes, but Geoffrey was not shaken. This reassured Alfred that he had a strong ally beside him.


"Geoffrey, you read my mind. I do plan to simple walk up to the stairs of the Royal Palace, " he chuckled. "However, we need troops. And I believe that there is no one better than you at doing just that. If you would join my cause, maybe then, just one day, we can all be free from the bitch we dare call our leader-"


Alfred had to stop himself, before his rage took over him. He despised the Crown Regent, the weak leader of a once proud nation, now the servant of a bloodthirsty imperialist. Seeing her on the television and in the newspaper daily infuriated him, and every time he so much as thought of the woman he wanted to punch something. But he knew he had to compose himself, for letting himself become consumed by rage would be his early demise.


"I suppose you'll want me to train the troops required for such a suicidal plan?" Nathan interrupted. "I would be more than happy to do so. "


"Then that settles it friends, a new day dawns upon the Republic," Alfred grinned. "Let us show these imperial bastards the true meaning of freedom!"


And with that, the four men shook hands, and stepped into the shadows of the alleyways. The beginning of the Civil War had begun. Alfred as their leader, and he would be merciless in his attempt to exterminate his opposition.

Two months later...
Underground Military Complex, Shoru
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
8:33pm East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 10th July 2012

Over the course of the last few months, Nathan kept to his word, as he began to recruit citizens from off the street. Mainly, poor citizens and those living on the streets were recruited. Secret rallies were held two times a week to inspire the Tiamian populace to revolt, kept away from the eyes of the Tiamian Police, who were still tasked with containing the sick portion of the populace. due to the work conducted over the past two months, just over 100,000 men and women had been recruited. Of them, about 15,000 had been trained and the remaining still being trained. An elite division, which was codenamed Team Four, consisted of fifty men who were specially trained in sniper and close combat situations. These would be the men who would lead the first attack.


In his newly established headquarters, a former underground military complex which he was stationed in during the final stages of the Kylarnatian-Tiamian War, Alfred was making plans for his first attack of the war. He knew he couldn't compete with the Alkharanian Royal Defence Forces and the regionally despised Caesar's Imperial Armed Forces head on. Fighting in the shadows and using hit and run tactics would be the most effective means of action. The only thing they needed to fear, were the Black Cobra, Kylarnatia's infamous elite who, in one small group, had brought ruin to the Citadel in the space of a few hours. Alfred could only secure few weapons from the black market due to strict border control, therefore his first target would be an old Tiamian military warehouse, designated 'Armaments Warehouse 0023'. It housed military equipment from early 2000, and was considered almost obselete in terms of effectiveness by the now ruling government and their overseers in Gholgoth, and was therefore not as heavily guarded. These weapons could prove useful in the upcoming fight Alfred had planned.


The plan would start with Team Four, whom would take out the few guards that stood watch. The lack of guards was due to the virus and the mass of citizens revolting, along with the governments limited interest in the warehouse. Once the guards were taken out, C4 would be implanted on the massive warehouse doors. When the doors were blown open, one-hundred regular soldiers whom would be stationed further in front of the the snipers, would rush in, taking out any guards in the interior. After the way is cleared, a convoy of trucks would arrive, the soldiers would load up on any equipment possible, from RPGs, General Purpose Machine Guns, Rifles and Artillery, all the way to the most basic component of ammunition. This would secure a clear way for rebel fighters to actually fight against the military.

Armaments Warehouse 0023, Shoru
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
11:28pm East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 10th July 2012

After a simple but stern debriefing and a quick drive to the warehouse, the men and women of the elite Team Four were stationing themselves on buldings up to a mile around the neglected Armaments Warehouse. these fifty men and women were present to take care of the guards standing watch, while the further one-hundred regular soldiers who would soon storm the warehouse were close, but hidden. In total, the guards counted on the exterior were forty-two, meaning that all the guards could be slaughtered in an instant, if everything went to plan. On the command of the designated leader, Stephen Stevens, they would all pick a target closest to them and would all pull their triggers at the same time. Once all the snipers had picked out a target, Stephen gave the command through his radio.


"Code blue, exterminate the targets."


In an array of beautiful marksmanship, all forty-two of the guards dropped, the shots unheard due to silencers. And as they dropped, the one-hundred soldiers stationed on the ground rushed towards the doors of the warehouse, carefully treading to make sure that they were not heard on their approach. One of the soldiers implanted a pack of C4 on the massive warehouse doors and motioned everyone to step back. With a press of the button, the doors blew open. As the men entered the warehouse through the entrance, Tiamian guards opened fire on the the rebels, striking down four soldiers in rapid succession. The rebels shot back, killing one of the guards and severely injuring another ten. In total, there were twenty guards, only nine left capable of fighting. Realizing they were outmatched, the guards surrendered. Not wanting to avoid possible counter attacks, the rebels shot all nine of the surivors.


After fifteen minutes of waiting, a convoy of ten big rigs appeared, disguised as rigs for supermarket chains. Backing each trailer into the entrance one at a time, the soldiers remaining loaded up assault rifles, artillery, machines guns, ammunition, and RPGs. After the big rigs were filled to the brim with what could be taken, Stevens ordered the building to be packed full of C4 and destroyed. Once the C4 was planted, Stephen pressed the wireless detonator and the whole building went up in flames, and shortly after collapsed.

Ville de Citadel, The Citadel
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
2:13am East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

Marisike Yamaku jolted up in fear. A sudden knock at the door had woken her. Getting up, she pulled a robe around her naked body and went to the door. She opened it and realized it was Major General Vastenburg, a hero in the Kylarnatian-Tiamian war.


"General, what brings you here at this time in the morning?" She questioned. "This better be good."


"My lady, I regret to inform you that there has been a raid on one of our military warehouses, Armaments Warehouse 0023 in Shoru..." he replied vaguely." Our reports estimate that all sixty-nine Tiamian soldiers defending the warehouse were killed in raid, and the warehouse itself has been destroyed. And to make things worse, intelligence indicates it was conducted by our own citizens who have formed a rebel army of some sort."


"General, call your staff and meet me in the Royal Court Room right away." Marisike replied in an instant. "Let me get dressed."


Within half an hour, Marisike Yamaku and General Vastenburg were in the Royal Court Room. Marisike looked exhausted, with bags under her eyes and it didn't seem she would last for much longer. All were seated around the round table, a large ornamental table made of Maple, a rare tree in the Republic.


"As General Vastenburg has said, there has been a raid on an old warehouse, Armaments Warehouse 0023, in Shoru," Mirisike spoken soundly. "And from what I've learned, this raid was by citizens who have formed some type of rebel army?"


"That is correct, my lady." General Macane, the forces top commander replied. "What we need to do is find their base of operations and wipe them out. We're now officially in a Civil War! We just got through a virus, and now this. The country is not in it's best financial shape, and we really can't afford to spend a lot to stomp out a rebellion. My Regent, We need to approach the Caesar and Dux Imperators, quickly."


"I certainly agree, General." Marisike nodded, but with a sigh of regret. "We are a Crown Dependancy and must do everything in our powers to stop this rebellion. Both of our peoples are at stake. I will write a formal letter to the Caesar in the morning. Let's just hope she's in a decent enough mood, and grants mercy on our heads."


The meeting over, Marisike staggered back up to her sleeping quarters, weary of exhaustion. Only a few hours remained until daylight, and then she would send a formal message to her superior at the Fangthane in Gholgoth.


A mere five hours later, her alarm went off, startling Marisike out of her bed. Rubbing her eyes, Marisike let out a wide yawn before heading into her bathroom. In her bathroom, she opened her shower door and turned the hot water on. A gentle stream of water came out of the shower head. As the water heated up, she undressed and stepped in. It felt good. All the stress had taken a toll on her body.


Minutes later, a rejuvinated Marsike stepped out, and dried off. Dressing into her formal attire, Marsike then exited her bathroom and headed towards her desk, which was located near the grand window in which a view of the Citadel could be seen. Sitting down, she began to compose a encrypted message to her Caesar on her computer.

---

— RECIPIENT: Caesar Silvier Catherina Hyuga IV

SENDER: Eius Celsitudinem Coronam Regentis Marisike Yamaku —

— CONTENT: Outbreak in the Crown Depedancy

PRIORITY: Extremely High —

— DESTINATION: Closed Frequencies

ORIGIN: Ville de Citadel, Caesar's Alkharanian Republic —

— ENCRYPTION: SECURE ENCRYPTION

TIME & DATE:11/07/1209:32am East Sondria Time (GMT-4) —

---

My dear Caesar, tragedy has recently struck the Alkharanian Republic, your humble Crown Dependancy.


Last night, as reported by my most trusted General Vastenburg, a group of Tiamian Citizens raided an obsolete weapons warehouse in Shoru, designated Armaments Warehouse 0023. All soldiers guarding the warehouse were killed. As per say, only a handful of those who raided the warehouse were found dead. It was confirmed that truck loads of military weaponry were siezed by these 'rebels'. After the attacks and the seizure of the weapons, the warehouse was engulfed in a blazing inferno. This attack has shocked the nation and it seems we are on the verge of a complete civil war. I do humbly ask that assistance be given to us as we will not be able to handle the problem completely by ourselves.

Eius Celsitudinem, Coronam Regentis Marisike Yamaku
Crown Regent of the Caesar's Alkharanian Republic

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Underground Military Complex, Shoru
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
9:33am East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

When the news was finally received by Alfred that the attack was a success, he was estatic. He had never planned that the raid would have been as easy as it was. It was however, sad to hear of casulties on his side. Alfred now had the means to fight the Royal Defence Forces on much more even grounds, and he just had to hope the Caesar of the Imperium Antiquum was not too quick to react, though that was wishful thinking. His men celebrated with him as the first victory of the war came to the rebels.


Overwhelmed and elated to hear of the news, Alfred spoke to his fellow men, "Today has been a success for our new order, for the Free men and women of Tiami! We have showed the government we are capable of fighting them! And with this victory, we'll surely bring the fight towards them!" Alfred shouted. "Today marks the new beginning of the Republic of Tiami. For the Rebellion!"


And with that said, the beginning of the Alkharanian Civil War began. Blood would be spilt, the country would be ripped apart, and life in the republic would be annihilated.

[Kylarnatia]

---

"From the deepest desires often comes the deadliest hate."

--- Socrates

---

The Fangthane Palace, The Ancient Capital of Krytopia
The Ancient Empire of Kylarnatia, Northern Gholgoth
19:19pm Gothic Central West Time (GMT+8), 11th July 2012

If there was one time when you could see Krytopia at its most beautiful, it was in the evening. Dusk had now only just turned into night, and the blackness that had consumed the capital was counter attacked by the bright lights of thousands of street lights, vehicles and buildings, both short and tall. Stretching out with a warm embrace, it was like a new dawn and a new day, and the people in the streets all seemed to change in mood, to one of partying and celebration over what they'd achieved during the working hours of that day. It was truly astonishing, and one of the reasons why Kylarnatians were commonly associated to as 'party animals', although they weren't actually like that all the time, mostly because they risked their job if they went in with a hangover the next morning. Though every man had risks they were willing to take.

Yet even in this most vibrant and cheerful of displays, there was one darkness that still loomed within the capital. Anguish and Hate had manifested themselves within the halls of the dominant Fangthane Palace, which stretched across the capital like a cobra wrapping itself slowly around someone's neck. These dark feelings were originating from a source, and the source was the Caesar. She had just received news and a telegram, speaking of a word that she hoped never to hear in her reign. Revolution. The night would not go well for her, and she knew that very well, because it was only the early hours of the day in the Alkharanian Republic - her Alkharanian Republic.

Having made sure that the door to her Imperial Study was shut tightly so that the soundproofing would work to its full effect, Silvier turned towards Dux Imperator Hyperion, the dark titan figure being the one who delivered her the news, and he was as equally infuriated, though didn't give any evidence towards the feeling. Knowing that she could now go into a full fit of rage without anyone else knowing, except for those who watched on security, Silvier's face turned red, Hyperion not reacting and simply waiting for her outburst.

"HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?!" She exclaimed in a full rage, flinging her arms up and clenching her fists. Hyperion didn't move and stayed like a statue as she moved around him, occasionally shooting him a deadly glance as she continued to scream in rage. There did come a moment when she literally screamed, at an incredibly high pitch, though the ancient Dux Imperator did not flinch. Instead, he looked down to her with his beaming red eyes as she caught her breath, face still red and teeth still grinding.

"You know that's not good for your health, my Caesar. You've been told several times." Hyperion commented, as he clasped the glass of water he had advised her to pour earlier, knowing she would scream like she just had. Silvier, still angry, snatched the glass from his hand and drank the water all in one go, before slamming the glass down on her desk without a care. Silence had now fallen on the room as Silvier calmed herself, Hyperion not saying anything more as he faced forward and stood completely still like a statue. Moving round to her chair, Silvier sat behind her desk and looked up to the Warlord of Avaris.

"...So they broke into a warehouse?" Silvier finally broke the silence, looking over the appeal from Marisike Yamaku, the Crown Regent of Tiami, which was up on her monitor. Hyperion nodded, and immediately answered, though in no rushed tone or manner, like most others would in the situation of being questioned by their divine ruler.

"Yes. At eleven-thirty in the evening yesterday, East Sondria Time, Armaments Warehouse 0023 in the city of Shoru was assaulted by what was believed to be a group of over one-hundred or so, but the very little CCTV available indicates that trained snipers may have also been involved. All the Tiamian guards defending the armaments warehouse were killed. Then, the attackers used disguised rigs to salvage the contents of the armaments warehouse, before blowing it to pieces. Apparently, abandoned rigs were found outside the city of Shoru less then an hour ago, all of them empty except one which had a single magazine inside of it, which probably fell out of a box of munitions."

"I see. Why wasn't this warehouse more heavily guarded?" Silvier took her eyes away from the screen and looked up at Hyperion with a raised eyebrow. He looked directly down at her.

"The armaments inside that warehouse was pre-occupation equipment, therefore it was decided that not so much attention had to be focused on that warehouse and the others like it, and instead those with post-occupation equipment have much heavier security. However, due to the attack on Armaments Warehouse 0023, I have no doubt more soldiers will be drafted to protect all warehouses, wherever they can get them from. Yet it seems Tiami is on its last legs after the virus attack, so it'd be best to answer their plea."

"You said that the other Dux Imperators are waiting in the Debriefing Room?" Silvier quickly moved onto a different subject which was brought up earlier. Hyperion gestured to the door, bowing slightly.

"Let us go to them, my Caesar."

//////---//////

"Dux Imperator Cato, what is the situation?"

Silvier asked immediately as she walked into the Debriefing Room, Hyperion following closely behind with thunderous footsteps. She saw that Dux Imperator Romulus Cato of Flanders, the Imperium territories in Sondria which sat right next to the Alkharanian Republic, was on one of the many monitors that hung above the large glass table, and that was why she immediately asked the question. Also present in the room where Dux Imperator's Brutus Skrall and Duncan Treii Octavian. Though she ignored them, and focused on Cato as she sat down in her throne. He kept a straight and serious face as he responded to her.

"Confusing, to say the least, my Caesar. Trusting that Hyperion has given you the details on Armaments Warehouse 0023, we're doing all we can to find out who was responsible beyond the fact that we know these people are most likely wanting to start a revolution. The rigs that were found can be salvaged for forensic work, though it's hard to tell if it'll tell us much about who's involved."

"I will not settle for second rate, Cato, especially not when it involves something my father and people fought so hard for." Silvier was quick to respond, a violent temper ready to be unleashed at the tip of her tongue, but somehow she was managing to keep it down. The Alkharanian Republic was important to her because it was conquered under her fathers rule, and for that fact alone she intended to fight for it till the end, if a war was indeed coming, in order to honour her father.

"I'm truly sorry my Caesar, we're doing all we can." Cato bowed his head in shame. "We have singled out one group who we're currently looking at in more detail, and that is war veterans, especially those from the Tiamian side. Though I personally feel this has more to do with the fact of poor leadership from the Tiamian Government."

"Oh? How So?" Silvier immediately answered again, eyebrow raised.

"...The vaccine you secured for them has only been given to high ranking officials and professional soldiers so far, our reports have found." Cato answered her with a slight dread of her response.

"IDIOTS!" Silvier slammed a clenched fist on the desk with rage. She'd secured the vaccine for the entire populace of Tiami, and they were even the first ones to receive it, yet for some reason they had only chosen to distribute it to the high echelons of their society so far, which was what surprised if not shocked her the most. A few moments of silence past, like in the same situation in the Imperial Study, before Cato was passed a piece of paper on screen. He read over it quickly, then raised his head to look at Silvier through the camera.

"My Caesar, there are reports of fighting from the Citadel. I can assure you it will be dealt with, for the seventh army is based throughout their capital as you know. I shall also make sure that armies are prepared--"

"Lock it down." Silvier interrupted. "Lock the whole god damn place down. And Hyperion, you go to Tiami, and take what you please."

There was shock around the room. They all knew what would happen now. Hyperion bowed and, with an almost joyous feel about him, he left without a word. He would now be able to do something he'd been wanting to do since the Gholgoth Civil War; rip out some skulls. With him gone, Octavian immediately leaned over to the Caesar.

"My Caesar, with the deepest respect - are you mad? He'll slaughter them like lambs!" Octavian was not the one who generally liked to disagree with his Caesar, but he would do so if he felt it right. He looked to his fellow Imperators for support, but he knew he would get little from Skrall, who was almost an apprentice of Hyperion's. Cato, however, was quick to support Octavian.

"I must echo Octavian's concern, my Caesar. Hyperion's ways are completely...unorthodox. He will slaughter the entire population of the Citadel just for fun!" He exclaimed with a hint of worry in his voice, but Silvier raised her hand to both of them. She stood, and made her way to the door without saying much more apart from repeating her orders.

"Lock it down, Cato. I know what is best for my Empire. Now, if you excuse me, I'm retiring early this evening." And with that she left. The three Imperator's looked to each other, before Cato thought to himself and then, with a deep breath, spoke to somebody off-screen.

"Issue the Lock Down Order on the Alkharanian Republic. May the Grand Mother have mercy on them..."

Barracks of the XXXIst Corpus, The Citadel
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
7:48am East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

Code: Select all

///THE CITADEL is now on LOCK DOWN. THE CITADEL is now on LOCK DOWN.///

THE CITADEL is now officially CLOSED OFF, by the order of DUX IMPERATOR ROMULUS CATO and the CAESAR herself. The ALKHARANIAN REPUBLIC will soon be under complete LOCK DOWN due to REBEL ACTIVITY.

The men and women of the VIIth AGMEN are ordered to take immediate control of THE CITADEL by whatever means necessary. Eliminate all threats that present themselves, and protect all assets. FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION.

You're to follow the direct orders of DUX IMPERATOR ROMULUS CATO until DUX IMPERATOR HYPERION arrives.

///FOR THE GLORY OF THE CAESAR!///

The members of the thirty-first Corpus knew what had to be done, as did the members of the thirty-second, thirty-third, thirty-fourth and thirty-fifth, who were stationed in barracks all around the Citadel. These made up the seventh agmen or army, who at present already outnumbered the number of armed rebels by another one-hundred thousand, but they didn't know that yet. All they knew was that they had to protect the Citadel, and lock it down. All the barracks had received the message, as would have the the Royal Defence Force barracks and the Royal Palace, also known as the 'Ville de Citadel' by the Kylarnatians, because they saw the palace as a lesser example of the Fangthane Palace.

In the heavily armoured barracks of the thirty-first, the respective commanders of each brigade, each division, the thirty-first itself and the entire seventh agmen had gathered to discuss their plans. They had already received reports of fighting in the streets, and of attempted attacks on the Royal Palace which where currently being held off by the Royal Guard, but they knew that they wouldn't last long on their own. So they knew they had to move quickly; very quickly. One disadvantage to them was that armoured divisions never faired well in the middle of city streets, so it would be a risky move. They would be a lot more useful in the more open parts of the Citadel, so it was decided that they would be drafted there, while the foot soldiers would take the streets as best they could.

Legatus Dux Quintinus Laelius of the thirty-first corpus looked around at his fellow division and brigade commanders, and then to Imperator Falcon of the seventh agmen, who sat at the head of the large table which projected a map of the Citadel, respective commanders looking at live satellite and CCTV footage, along with a different variety of maps on their own tablet computers. Waiting for them all to look up at him, he cleared his throat and spoke out to them all.

"So you all understand the situation we're in here? We can easily control this if we do it right. There is no need to create a high list of casualties." Quintinus was an experienced individual in warfare. He'd seen so many people die in his long service, and although he was now too scared physically and mentally to fight on the front lines, he still proved himself as a capable commander, and would control his dear thirty-first from the barracks. Imperator Falcon would be fighting in the field, however, and he planned to make it to the Royal Palace in order to retrieve the Crown Regent and any government officials that may be there. Although he was as tall as most of the men present, standing just over the male average at 7'3”, Falcon was much larger then the rest of him due to his intense muscular build and the armour atop of that. He was also one of the youngest men there, and hoped one day to become a Dux Imperator.

“Yes, I think we all do, Quintinus.” Falcon commented. “Now, we must move quickly. The Royal Defence Forces of the dependency are already extremely depleted due to the effect of the virus, and we cannot expect them to take on the brunt of this fight themselves. Remember, the Citadel and the entire country is now on lock down. Nobody gets in, nobody gets out. Lets move. Legatus Dux, I wish you the best, and may the Grand Mother grant you blessings this day.”

“May she grant blessings on us all, Imperator.” Quintinus replied, but as he replied something seemed to dawn in his mind.

“Where is the Black Cobra Colonel?” He questioned, but everyone looked around at each other in confusion. In every barracks, a regiment of Black Cobra was attached, but the colonel of the regiment attached to the thirty-first was nowhere to be seen. Falcon waved his hand at them all, as if to dismiss the issue.

“They know what they're doing. I know exactly where he and some of his men will be. All we have to hope is that none of these rebels go there, otherwise we will have a massacre on our hands.”

Ville de Citadel, The Citadel
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
8:16am East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

The gardens of the Ville de Citadel, despite the fighting in the city, were quiet and tranquil. Within them were a wide variety of plants and undergrowth, which gave the garden a very earth-like feel. Paths carved through the gardens, and these were once used by guests who visited the gardens, at quite a hefty price. Yet, these gardens were no longer filled with the sounds of visitors, but with the simple sounds of nature, but also gunshots far off in the distance. Still, the beauty and tranquillity of the gardens was not ruined, yet.

If one was to continue to follow the paths, they would come to one of the main entrances to the Ville de Citadel, and just before that were two similarly sized statues, one on either side of the direct path, both of them women. When the early morning sun shone over them, it was easy to see that the one on the left was Crown Regent Marisike Yamaku, and the one of the right was Caesar Silvier Catherina Hyuga. Although they were built of the same material and were sized the same, the one of Silvier was much grander in comparison, and she looked much more powerful. Both of these statues were protected by honorary guards from the elite units of each nation. The Royal Guard of Tiami and The Black Cobra of Kylarnatia looked across at each other, but said nothing as they stood perfectly still, guns poised and ready to shoot anything that approached.

Within the remaining darkness of the undergrowth, something was moving. Quietly, but quickly, the movement which soon became a group of footsteps, their sounds being drowned out only slightly by the distant sound of gunfire, approached the entrance to the Ville de Citadel. This caught the attention of the Black Cobra, but they did nothing, and simply waited. A twig snapped, and the honour guard tightened the grip on their guns. Within a moment, the Black Cobra finally turned on their feet and fired shots off into the shadows, and the sound of bodies dropping was instant. Although this small group was dealt with, more were surely to come, and if one inspected the bodies they would see they were common citizens armed with whatever came to hand, and not apparent of the rebel army as could be suspected. The government was therefore officially fighting two groups; the trained rebel army, and the citizenry who would inevitably come to be lambs going to the slaughter.

Yet the Black Cobra did not care, and would kill anyone or anything that stood in the Imperium's way. Saying nothing, they returned to their original position, ignoring the bodies. One or two took a brief glimpse up at the gigantic statue of the Grand Mother that looked over the entire Citadel, with grace but also authority. An iron fisted authority. They all knew, deep down, that it would become a target of the rebels and the citizenry, but all they could do was wait for the order to go to it, if it was considered a valuable assets.

Or they would just move as soon as their own mind ordered them to do so.

Residence of Valentina Sabina, The Fortress of Flanders
The Caesar's Crown Dominion of Flanders, Eastern Sondria
8:21am East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

A heavy knock came from the front door of the house, which awoke Valentina Sabina suddenly, and much to her disdain. She preferred to stay in bed until at least eleven o'clock, which some would consider late, but she commented on it as trying to regain lost sleep from when she was in the Military Police of Kylarnatia. Now she was a Domina Legato (Lady Ambassador) but only required on the odd occasion, so most of her time was her own. Therefore, she had laid out that time in order to suit her wishes, and a lot of it was either sleeping or napping, but she didn't always get it the way she wanted. The knock coming again, she groaned and slid her way out of her bed, getting up and taking her gown off a hook on her door. Wrapping it around herself, she opened her door and ventured out, the knock coming a third time.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming..." Valentina thought to herself with a sigh as she opened the door. Standing there was another Kylarnatian woman, around the same height as her. The woman immediately stretched out her arm for a handshake, a small smile across her face, as Kylarnatians had always been raised to be as friendly as possible when talking with others, unless they were of course the enemy, then they would be witty and sarcastic.

"Domina Legato Sabina, I'm Olympias Photina, an Auxiliatrix from the Ministerium Externa. I'm here to help you in some upcoming discussions with the rest of the region." Valentina hesitated to shake the woman's hand at first, but gently took it and did so. Allowing her to step into the household, Valentina closed the door behind her and the Auxiliatrix.

"With all respect, Olympias, I wasn't informed of any upcoming talks."

"Well, you have now. There's been a situation in Tiami. Marshal Goodard will be here in an hour, so if I'm not being too forceful, I advise you get dressed. We have a long day ahead of us..." Valentina knew that something was wrong, so she immediately went to get dressed without saying anything more. Olympias simply stood in the hallway and waited for her to reappear and when she did, the two of them progressed to the sitting room, which would make a comfortable venue for these talks that Valentina had only just learned about.

"Please, elaborate on this situation..."

[The Mighty Islands]

The Mighty Islands
Capital: Caliban
Capitol building

Ashton Adolomain turned the page in a massive book on Sondrian history. He finished the section on Tiami's history, which was very large and interesting. Ashton laughed internally on this matter, that the largest section in a Mighty Islands history book was on their enemy for the past 500 years. He began the Kylarnatian chapter, which opened with their dominance on Tiami. He was intrigued and began reading deeply into the book.

Three minutes and fifteen pages later, an aid by the name of Julius opened the door, casting light into the dark room. He walked around the room, opening the blinds in the room without a word. Ashton continued reading his book, turning a page every 30 seconds as if Julius hadn't entered the room. He remained unaware until Julius physically placed his hand on the top of the massive book and pulled it down.

"What is it?" Ashton asked, "It better be important."

"Trouble in the world," Julius said, "The cabinet will be here in five minutes, all the information you need is on your desk."

"Since when?" Ashton asked walking over to his desk in a full purple and black suit contrasting with his white skin.

"I uploaded it when I entered, you were too deep in your book to notice."

"You know me well," Ashton said, "Take the day off, I have one of those feelings again."

Julius nodded his thanks and bowed before turning around and walking out the door. Ashton sat down and activated the touchscreen on his desk, bringing up the documents Julius uploaded earlier. Ashton set in at about 1,700 words per minute, a little behind his average speed, and finished most of the documents before his cabinet arrived. They entered in their line of succession, starting with the two vice presidents and continuing with the High Military Commander, the Defense Minister, the People's Voice, the First Senator, Head of House Members, the Head of the International Ambassadors, and ending with their newest member, Blood Knight Grand Master of the Puppeteers.

They all walked forward around the deck as chairs lifted out of the floor, which they promptly sat down in, except for the Blood Knight who did not yet have a chair and choose to stand in the one dark corner of the room. Ashton knew all of them by name, but he refused to address them by anything other than their title, and they treated Ashton with the same level of respect, "I've read most of these documents, but I need some clarification. How do we know what we know?"

The Head of the International Ambassadors spoke up, "A Blood Knight Sleeper cell. They reported lots of military activity, among other things, details are still hazy, but they are in document 7, section 6. The Grand Master informed me of this, and thought it would be best if I told you."

The High Military Commander continued, "We suspect that a civil war is rising in Tiami, and we're looking at our possible plays in the international community and Tiami itself, detailed in document 20."

The First Senator answered Ashton's question before it was asked, "The cause was most likely, as determined by reports in document 7, section 8, the virus. Even though we sent massive quantities of the cure and the vaccine to Tiami far before any other country in the region, other than ourselves, it was distributed among political and military officials long before the citizens, causing massive unrest."

The People's Voice spoke next, "If the populace learns of this, there will be calls for action in Tiami or the offensive sort. They have been an enemy for some 500 years now."

"However," the Defense Minister retorted, "They are technically an ally of ours through our alliance with Kylarnatia. We honor our agreements, it would be a bigger disgrace to dishonor the terms of our own treaty than to work with Tiami."

As the People's Voice was about to speak, Ashton interrupted, "Agreed. What assets do we have in Tiami right now?"

One of the Vice Presidents responded, "Five Blood Knight sleeper cells in hiding throughout the country. That's it I think."

"Wrong," The Grand Master said from the shadows with a soft female voice, "We have 50 Blood Knights more arriving on the shores as we speak."

"What? How?" was all the Vice President asked.

"They got a call as soon as the first bullets began flying. They were waiting offshore and snuck onto a cargo ship heading to dock in one of the ports. The MIN Umbra will find itself a little short on crew, but they will manage." Her smile could be felt from the darkness

"Who allowed you to act on your own? You work for the government now, and you follow our orders," The other Vice President shouted.

"With," Ashton said, drawing attention back to him, "They work with us, and they have a considerable degree of freedom to act. Where are your Blood Knights now?"

"They are currently clinging to the underside of a massive ship about to dock in port. They are a long way from the capital, which puts them out of harms way for now. They will remain in hiding, like the sleeper cells, until we give them further orders."

"What are those orders?" asked the Head of House Members.

Ashton replied calmly, "We're going to work within the boundaries of the treaty for now and wait until I speak with Kylarnatia and until the international community reacts. Other than that, we stay quiet, and we have our new agents, courtesy of the Blood Knights, report everything they can about everything that happens."

The cabinet members nodded and began to leave, allowing Ashton to return to the documents. He looked up and called to the Blood Knight, who was the last to leave. She waked back and stood in front of him, displaying her black hair and bright green eyes.

"Prepare as many Blood Knights as you can for a full operation in Tiami, starting with arms and supply deals to whoever is causing this kind of commotion. Kylarnatia doesn't start military action so easily, quickly and without warning without having a good reason for it."

[Crontor]

Sondria;
Luso-Cron Union;
Imperial Federation of Crontor;
Columbia Province;
Vienna;
Crontorian Military Pyramid:

It would have been a routine national security meeting. All of the necessary players were in attendance. At the head of the long table, Supreme Commander Rockepeller sat in his immaculate uniform, medals freshly polished and aligned in rows on his chest. Seated opposite at the other end of the table was President Lisa Wuhren, dressed in a conservative black dress with her bleached blonde hair tied into a ponytail. She was annoyed, and made sure to show it, crossing her arms and simply staring at the Supreme Commander who had seemed not to have noticed.

Also amongst those in attendance were most of the other high ranking members of the national security establishment, Minister of Defense Alysia Crowell, Minister of Internal Security Domenic Ximid, Minister of Intelligence Anthony Ward, Minister of State Alan Suderity, and the Imperial Consuls; Consul Belton of the CAAF, Consul Rokur of the CN, and Consul Crogden.

Crogden occupied a unique position at the table, directly to Rockepeller’s right, where as Minister Crowell sat to his left. Crogden was already seen by many to be the next Supreme Commander, and as Rockepeller continued to age, most looked at the much younger Crogden, only 49, to lead the nation in the near future. He and the Supreme Commander were engaged in a quiet conversation of their own, leaving the others to do their own work, or in Wuhren’s case, to sulk.

The chatter stopped when a shorter balding man entered the room, carrying with him a laptop and a mess of cables. He set himself up in the middle of the table, flashing smiles at the assembled persons, and then pressed the power button. In an instant, the wall facing the long end of the table came to life in the long room, officially known as the Situation Room. The wall itself was a giant screen, touch enabled, that was now showing a map of the region, Crontorian military bases highlighted, as well as known foreign bases and establishments.

“So, Vempiskra, what is the latest news on the developing situation?” began Rockepeller, pulling away from his conversation with Crogden.

Head Commander of Crontorian Foreign Intelligence and the International Watch Division of the Ministry of Intelligence, Alex Vempiskra was a very important man in the national security establishment. Ironically enough, Rockepeller and him despised each other, but both had a hand in why the other was in the position they held, as they were both of the same platoon of the Crontorian Ranger Guardsmen. They had actually fought together many a times. Professionally however, the relationship was cordial, though no one had ever heard the exact reason for the mutual distaste.

“Well, this is what we know. According to CFI reports and what we are hearing from the embassy, it would appear an armed rebellion has broken out in the Crown Dependency of Tiami. Rumors are circulating that the rebels carried out an attack on a poorly guarded weapons stockpile, and absconded with said weapons. These rebels are now seemingly mounting attacks on the city, based on all the gunfire the embassy is hear.”

“From what we can also tell, the Kylarnatians are mobilizing. We do not know what, or in what capacity, but we can assume the Black Cobra is involved.”

“What is the status of the country at the moment Commander?” asked Wuhren.

“They are in a state of lockdown, the embassy staff has been warned not leave those grounds. Our agents report the same,” he answered confidently, turning back to his laptop and tapping a few keys, “now in order to supply these rebels…”

“Wait, stop,” Wuhren interrupted, standing and pointing at Rockepeller, “are you out of your mind Supreme Commander, why is it that we automatically assume we are supplying rebels. Has it occurred to anyone that these rebels are fighting both Tiami and their big brother Kylarnatia? This is not a simple matter of influencing a war in a third world nation; this is a superpower we are talking about here.”

“Are you insinuating that the Union is not a superpower?” questioned Rockepeller, now crossing his arms in disgust, “why would we not try to influence the outcome of this conflict. Sure, we don’t know everything at the moment, but not trying would be a terrible waste of resources. We have an opportunity to severely weaken them, why would you not want to take that chance Lisa?”

President Wuhren knew internally had she had a firearm at that moment, she would have shot Rockepeller. In that moment, she hated him more than anything. His trademark arrogance, jingoistic attitude towards foreign policy, and general indifference for the lives that would be put at risk, and yet despite all this, all eyes were on her, as if she had three heads or no arms. They looked on her as if she was a madwoman.

“Pardon me Madam President,” began Minister Crowell, “but we have a unique opportunity here, to sponsor a regime change at the behest of the Kylarnatians. We need to reassert our position as the superpower of this region. I mean, President Cranico would have agreed with us.”

“Yes, he would have,” echoed Rockepeller, “he knew how to best further our foreign policy objectives.”

That did it. That was the last straw. She had been in office for only a few months, and in those months, these very people had made her life hell. Her party abandoned her. The military showed little willingness to cooperate. She couldn’t even remove any of the government Ministers, which required Rockepeller’s approval. Silvier must have been disappointed in her.

“You bitch,” she muttered to herself while staring at Crowell, and then without a word, left the room, gathering all her things in a single sweeping motion of her hand across the table.

“Please continue,” said Rockepeller, apparently unfazed by what had just occurred.

“Well, in terms of supplying the rebels, I am not exactly sure of what exactly we can do. Aerial drops are quite frankly out of the question, they will most certainly shoot down our transports. Same goes for attempting to sneak supply ships past their blockades. It does not help that as of now, the rebels don’t necessarily control any major cities or hubs that we know of at least.”

“The nations in the area do not appear helpful either. On that continent exist only Tiami and then Flanders, and then of course there is Gerrivica and Malsitar, both of whom are relatively quiet on the Sondrian stage. We are unsure of how they are reacting to the continued unrest, but both border Tiami. We might as well contact them and offer to send a delegation.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Rockepeller, “but try Malsitar first; they do not share a border with Flanders, so that might be an easier country to negotiate with.”

---

Receiver: The Unified Federal Republics of Malsitar
Encryption: High

Sender: The Imperial Federation of Crontor
Subject: Unrest In Tiami

To the respected leaders of the Unified Federal Republics;

Greetings. We here in the Imperial Federation are just now learning, as we are sure you are already well aware, of the outbreak of violence in the nation of Tiami. We also understand that this may have serious implications for the safety and security of the Unified Federal Republics and its citizens. As Tiami is a crown dependency of the nation of Kylarnatia, there is a high potential for the violence to escalate, as Kylarnatia will look to quell the uprising.

We are approaching you because we are aware that you have been made aware of the situation, and more than likely know the possible implications of Kylarnatian involvement. We have faced civil war before in the Imperial Federation, and know firsthand that what begins as a local conflict can soon escalate and spill over international borders. This could not only leave your nation in an awkward situation, but compromise the safety and security of your nation, and quite possibly your sovereignty. This is something we do not wish to see happen.

The mperial Federation is a strong supporter of the basic human rights of all global citizens, why we fear this civil war could easily turn into a bloodbath. While we would like to see diplomacy prevail in this matter, we feel that at this point in the conflict that may not be a viable option, given the historical context for the uprising. In an attempt to try and avoid an unnecessary slaughter, we would like to find a way to supply the rebels with the necessary materials to overthrow their oppressive government, because as strong supporters of basic human rights, we would like to see every person given their right to self determination.

In order to discuss this and other matters, we would very much like to meet with you. We are interested to hear what you have to say, and look forward to this summit. Thank you.

Signed;

Supreme Commander Rockepeller

[Malsitar]

The Parliamentary Camera
The City of Moltivac
The Republic of Malotivini
The Unified Federal Republics of Malsitar

The Parliamentary Camera was not nearly as grand as the legislative chambers of some other nations. It was a circular room, with hardwood paneling on the walls and a burgundy carpet over the floor. The room’s diameter was no more than twenty feet, and there was one door – a door that looked like it belonged on a walk-in refrigerator in a butcher’s shop. The ceiling stretched thirty feet into the air, merged seamlessly with the walls to create a pointed dome. A chandelier stretched ten feet down from the peak, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. The walls were undecorated save for an ebony chair rail.

In terms of the room’s space, it was furnished simply. Six chairs, each with the pattern of a different flag incorporated into the upholstery, were arranged in a circle around a varnished conference table that was bolted to the floor. Currently, the table was occupied by coffee mugs, stacks of paper, and several laptop computers that were easily disguised as run-of-the-mill briefcases. Each chair was occupied by one of the Ministers of the UFR.

In the first chair sat Sven Jurisen, representative of President Ingrid Hallsdottr of the Republic of Sitaria. He was a big, Nordic man, with rugged ginger locks of hair and broad shoulders that looked entirely out of place in his business suit. His eyes where such a light blue that many at first thought he must be blind, but he had the acute vision of a hawk. An ugly scar cut across his right cheek – a wound earned as a member of the police force during the Doves’ Rebellion – and his left leg was a titanium prosthetic.

To his right sat Margot Wunderblo, representative of Chancellor Albert Gudfrid of the Republic of Benesklat. She was a tiny woman, with her jet black hair curled into a tight, immovable bun. She was the only woman in the room, and that gave her a smug sense of satisfaction – that she alone was woman enough to play hardball with the big boys. It had been her womanhood that had gotten her here in the first place, after all. When the time had come to appoint the Minister from Benesklat, she was the only female candidate – and the only candidate that slept with Gudfrid.

Next came Joao Marceiner, representing the Assembleia of the Semi-Autonomous Republic of Libercia. He wore a bright green suit that clashed horribly with the room’s decor, and small spectacles perched on his nose as if they had been bolted there. He was by far the oldest person in the room, and his hair would be gray had he not shaved it off in anticipation of male pattern baldness. As he sat, looking around the room, waiting to start, his hand was in his breast pocket, fingers wrapped around a pack of cigarettes. He always craved one as soon as he entered this room – something about no smoking being allowed due to the way the vents had been set up for purposes of security.

To Joao’s right was Ivan Dyamovitch, representative of President Josef Dyamovitch of the Democratic Republic of Fesilgrad. Ivan very nearly matched Sven in height, though far surpassed him in width. He was a fat, sickly man, with a light brown combover doing too little to hide his balding head. It seemed almost as if the hair lost on his head had migrated south to form his thick goatee. Ivan hated being a Minister. He hated having to represent a whole country in this bureaucratic confederacy. But he could not let down his brother, and so he served as a Minister anyway.

Next was Patro Molotiovu, representative of the Maltivinian Republic, having been appointed there by Polmo Arturo, who was President of that republic. He was only eighteen years old, and had been appointed to his post for the sole reason that he was the son of Ienon Terrenz Molotiovu, the most powerful man in Malsitar. Patro’s dark hair was short and straight, and he had applied gel to it in a manner that he thought looked cool. The hair was accompanied by dark sideburns that stretched down so that their bottoms were level with the bottoms of his ears. His eyes were the gray of a sky just before snow, and he was quite visibly nervous in this room of accomplished politicians.

Finally, all eyes were on the door. With a monstrous click, it swung open, and Ienon T. Molotiovu, Prime Minister of the Unified Federal Republics, walked in. The door slammed shut behind him and he took his seat, a grim look on his face. The man looked like nothing so much as a great bird of pray ready to strike. The curve of his nose suggested a beak. The point of his widow’s peak gave the impression of sleek aerodynamics. He licked his thin lips, providing them some moisture, and Ivan had to contain a shudder. Ienon set his briefcase on the table and opened it, pulling out a laptop computer and a stack of papers. The room was deathly silent as he typed.

When he spoke, it was a whisper, but no one had to strain in order to hear it – the acoustics in the Camera were a thing of beauty.

“To the immediate west of the Republic of Sitaria, just across the Alkharanian Mountain Range, lies the Kylarnatian Crown Dependency of Tiami. In accordance with our somewhat isolationist position of recent decades, we have had very little contact with this nation.”

He licked his lips again and typed some more on the laptop, pulling something up.

“At 11:30 in the evening on July 10^th, East Sondria Time – that’s 12:30 in the morning the next day our time – rebels committed some form of domestic terrorism within Tiami. The fear is outright revolution against Kylarnatian imperialism.”

Sven and Ivan winced at that last word. The Imperialist Periods had been a dark time in Malsitari history. Many atrocities against the people had been committed, and it had taken the tragedy that was the Doves’ Rebellion to wake up the nation to what was happening. To be called out as an Imperialist now in the Unified Federal Republics was to see the death of one’s political aspirations.

Ienon continued, “Revolution is a pox on stable government. It spreads like wildfire and we, my friends, are nothing but trees. We have enjoyed unprecedented prosperity since entering into this union, but if our citizens catch the nationalist bug then all that will be thrown away like a burnt mutton chop. We must not allow our populace to see the rebel cause as one they can sympathize with. To this end, I propose that control of national departments of propaganda be placed under the control of the federal government, with new specialists in the Confederal Management Committee dedicated to portraying the Tiamian cause as an evil one.”

The room was silent for a full forty-five second before Joao timidly spoke up.

“If I may be so bold, sir: How do you propose to brainwash the entire populace? They know that it is imperialism that Tiami is subjected to, and they know that imperialism is a great evil. The Doves’ Rebellion was not so long ago that it goes unremembered, Ienon. You may have been a boy when it happened, but the memory is fresh in my mind of seeing bloody carnage on my television, live from the streets of Starbjork, as Malsitari troops marched across the Rio Nortico into Libercia. The people of the Unified Federal Republics – and those of Sitaria especially – will be naturally sympathetic towards the rebel cause. They may even drag us into war against Kylarnatia by trying to support the insurrection.”

The room was silent again. As the air conditioning unit activated with a quiet hum, several people were jolted out of their internal thoughts and a nervous laugh echoed from Margot.

Then Ienon spoke again. “You are not the only one to make such an assessment. This morning I found a communiqué from the Crontorians sitting on my desk. They wish to station troops in Sitaria to smuggle supplies across the mountains.”

This time there was not silence. No sooner had Ienon closed his mouth than Margot began to speak. She said, “We should say yes.”

All eyes were on her, and she repeated herself more confidently, standing up. “We should say yes. If the Crontorians wish to supply the rebels, we should help them do so. To our people it will show that we are not guilty of modern imperialism, that their best interests are still our best interests. And to the world, it will show that we back down to no nation, however large. It is high time that Malsitar actually takes an interest in her neighbors, and we must do so in a way that establishes us as an alpha dog rather than some nation’s bitch.”

She sat and cleared her throat, waiting as her words sunk in. Slowly, one minister after the other nodded in agreement. Ienon steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them. Barely opening his mouth, he said, “So, then, the motion considered by the Parliament is that we meet with the Crontorians to discuss this matter. The diplomat sent will have full plenipotentiary power excepting the power to ratify any treaties or accords drafted. All in favor?”

Four hands went up: Margot, Sven, Ivan, and Patro. Ienon nodded. “The motion passes. The motion now before the Parliament is that Dr. Chandler Whitt, as Ambassador to the Sondrian Regional Council, shall be appointed as the diplomat in charge of this meeting. All in favor?”

Five hands went up – all save Ienon’s, who could only veto and break ties. He nodded, and typed something up on his laptop. He said, “The motion now before the Parliament is that we upgrade DEFCON rating to 3. All in favor?”

Five hands went up. Then he said, “The motions passes. I will alert the Sublime Island Kingdom of Astrolinium and the Democratic Republic of Eugepæ to this change in our military readiness stance. The motion now before the Parliament is that national departments of propaganda and media be consolidated at the federal level, as part of the Confederal Management Committee. All in favor?”

Three hands went up: Margot, Sven, and Patro. Ienon smiled. “As tie breaker, I declare the motion passed. Are there any other matters which must be discussed?”

There was silence for a full minute before Ienon said, “Then, as Prime Minister of These Unified Federal Republics, I declare this meeting of the Parliament of Ministers adjourned.”

---

From: The Unified Federal Republics of Malsitar.

To: The Imperial Federation of Crontor.
Re: Unrest in Tiami.
Enc: Maximum.

Supreme Commander Rockepeller.

Dr. Chandler Whitt will discuss this matter with your representative to the SRC after its next meeting – I am certain one will be called shortly in light of this crisis.

Ienon T. Molotiovu.
Prime Minister of the Parliament of Ministers.
The Unified Federal Republics of Malsitar.

---

[Millsa]

New Sandusky, Millsa
Premeir’s Quarters, Capitol Complex
July 11th 2012
11:54 am East Sondria Time

Overcast skies and fog blanketed New Sandusky, giving the usually bright and upbeat metropolis a dreary and melancholy feel that Wednesday mourning. Isaac Nikelson peered out the window of the Premeir’s Residence, very little could be seen due to condensation on the window, a sign of how humid the outside had become. He left the window and went towards his desk. Before he could reach it, three sharp knocks came from the door. One of his many aides opened the door and came into the office, a single report clenched in his sweaty palms. He extended his hand, exchanged greetings with the Premeir, gave him the documents and left. Taking a seat in the navy blue leather armchair, in the southeast corner of the room, Nikelson examined the report he had just received. The seal of the Covert Intelligence Operations was affixed to the title. The title simply read, Overview of Unrest in Tiami. Taking out his reading glasses, Nikelson opened the report and began reading.

After about an hour, Nikelson had finished the report. He rose from his seat and made several calls, all pertaining to a emergency meeting.

Tactical Operations Room, Capitol Building
July 11th 2012
1:47 pm East Sondria Time

The Tactical Operations Room was filled with the highest ranking officials from each branch of Millsa’s armed forces. Grand Admiral Rachel Luttman of the Navy, General Hitchcock of the Army, General Weatherly of the Air Force, Newly appointed Commandant Buscus of the Marines, Director Gerard of the Premeir’s Guard and Director Baumeister of Defense. As the Premeir entered, the six officials rose and saluted. When Nikelson sat down, the others followed suit.

“I’m sure you all know why you’re all here?” There was no response from the six. “Revolution, that’s why you’re here, Revolution in Tiami! They have grown tired of their Kylarnatian oppressors and are attempting to break free of the chain’s of Imperialism. It is our duties as a major power in Sondria to help those without freedom to obtain it. We must act, in the name of freedom and independence!” The room still sat silent, though the Premeir’s words had charged the atmosphere. Finally Director Baumeister broke the silence.

“Mr. Premeir, you are right, it is our duty to help those in need. But we also have to look at who their trying to break free of. Kylarnatia is not just your run of the mill autocratic regime. Kylarnatia is a Global Superpower capable of bringing the mightiest of nations to their knees. Intervention in Tiami could be seen as an act of aggression. We cannot risk war.” As Director Baumeister finished speaking, Grand Admiral Luttman rose to speak. She was the youngest person in the room at 27; she had been appointed Grand Admiral after the death of Grand Admiral Baer. She had curly blonde hair and a slender figure, except for her considerable bust, only being exaggerated by the tight white button down shirt she was wearing. She was known to sailors as the Ice Admiral, for her cold demeanor to others. However she had proven to be an excellent leader.

“With all due respect, Director. Your excuse is weak. We are the Independent Republic of Millsa; our Navy is the best and soon to be largest in all of Sondria. I suggest we place the 7th Carrier strike group just outside of Tiamian waters while the 10th Carrier strike group accompanied by the Dreadfire MSS Venatia, monitors waters between Millsa and Flanders. If we do infact decide to begin supplying the rebels, we’ll atleast have the projection capabilities to do so.”

“I agree Admiral; we should be ready to help.” The Premeir looked over the digital display that was built into the table, a map of Sondria was being displayed. The locations of every group the Millsan Navy operated were displayed. CSG 7 was currently deployed in the waters around Tiami, Aquilinia and New Lusitaniagrad, making their deployment to outside Tiamian waters a matter of hours rather than a matter of days. “We will wait to see how the situation unfolds and go from their, as for now, we will go with Grand Admiral Luttman’s strategy. This meeting is adjourned.” And with that the room quickly became deserted as the officials left.

[Aquilinia]

The Lotus Blossom Palace
Mino, The Shogunate of Kyato

"Well, I have to say, your palace is quite impressive, old friend." The new seat of the Shogun of Kyato had been completed in just under a year by the finest craftsmen from all over Kyato. The result was a building in the classic style, reminiscent of the palace of the Japanese shoguns that brought their form of government to Kyato centuries ago.

Today, Kyato was finally a nation of its own again. After being pushed around by various colonial powers for two hundred and fifty years, their last overlord, the Aquilinian Empire, had finally agreed on terms for Kyatese independence. The Shogunate would still be a protectorate of the Empire, and defer all matters of foreign policy - but they would be fully independent regarding their domestic policy, and, more importantly, defence. By the terms of the Aquilia-Kyatese treaty, the re-established crown of the Kyatese Tenno had been unified with that of the Aquilinian Empire, with a Kyatese Shogun ruling the nation as vice-monarch to the Empress. This Shogun was Minojin Sakura, formerly Grand Inquisitor of Aquilinia, a post that she had been forced to resign from when she took the regency. Empress-Abdicate Felicia of Aquilinia would be the Aquilinian representative and ambassador to the Kyatese government.

The Shogun smiled at her old friend as the two women entered Sakura's personal rooms. "Indeed. It feels good to be home again, Felicia. I checked the calendar this morning. Eight hundred years ago to the day, my mother was killed here in Mino, and I was forced to flee the country. Of course, back then, Mino was only a little village. Incredible how much it has grown." Felicia laughed. "Well, eight centuries are a lot of time." Sakura nodded. "True. It took me a while to get used to the changes, especially to the culture and the language. But I'll do fine." "I'm sure of that."

Felicia was just about to sit down, when an officer of the Shogun's Guard in full ceremonial armour rushed into the room. He gave a short bow to both women before speaking. "My Shogun, your excellency. We have received an urgent message from Fort Aquilaine. The Imperial Regent requests both of you attend a video conference with her immediately." Felicia shot a look at the Shogun, who nodded immediately. "Take us to the comms room."


The Crystal Palace
Fort Aquilaine, East Francia, The Aquilinian Empire

The Imperial Regent sighed as she looked through the pile of documents on her desk. It was a beautiful afternoon in early summer, and she had to spend all day in her office, doing paperwork. Anyone would have thought the de facto monarch of a vast empire would have staff for that. But then, staff couldn't be trusted to do their work properly, could they. No, Mindy knew that if she wanted something done properly, she'd better take care of it herself. She picked up a folder from the top of the pile and opened it, groaning as she read the headline of the report it contained - another report on the drought plaguing farmers all over the main islands. She shook her head and threw the file down on her desk. Irrigation systems really weren't something she would like to think about right now.

Taking a deep breath, she stood and walked over to the large window behind her desk, overlooking the city. The people were enjoying the peace and calm that the end of the Plague War had brought. And on a summer day like this, who could blame them? Mindy was just about to call it a day when the door flew open and a young man wearing the purple uniform of the Imperial Household Guard entered. A quick glance at the golden stripe at his right shoulder identified him as an officer - the insignia on the left side of his chest confirmed him as a captain. He stood in front of the Regent and stood to attention, saluting. Mindy sighed again. It seemed she would have to keep working after all.

"At ease, Captain. What is it?" The officer relaxed. "My lady, we have received a report from our Inquisition agents in the Kylarnatian Crown dependency of Tiami. It seems there has been an uprising of some kind." The Regent shook her head in disbelief. "An uprising? Explain." The captain nodded, and handed her a flash drive. "The full Inquisition report is on here." Mindy took it and connected it to her laptop. As soon as she had read the first few sentences of the report, she looked up at the captain again. "Captain, this is bad news. Call the chancellor, and get Sakura on the line." "Yes, my lady." The officer turned on the spot and walked out, while Mindy finished reading the report. No good would come from this, that much was clear.

Half an hour later, Mindy and Chancellor Daniela Kellermann were standing in the communication room next to the Regent's office, waiting for the connection with Kyato to be established. As soon as the channel was open, Mindy briefed Sakura and Felicia on the situation. "Bad news. Inquisition reports say that last night at 2328 hours local time, rebels attacked an armaments warehouse in the city of Shoru, Tiami. By now, fighting has broken out in the capital as well. It seems we are dealing with a fully-fledged revolution. Tiami is on the edge of civil war, and both Tiamian and Kylarnatian forces are mobilizing." Sakura shook her head. "If this goes wrong...I don't even want to think of it. If the flames of revolution spread across the region, there'll be nothing but chaos. And we'll be back at war yet again."

Daniela nodded. "Exactly. For the sake of the stability of the region, this revolution must be contained. Even if it means military action in Tiami." Felicia wasn't quite so sure. "I think the rebels may have a valid point. Tiami has been occupied by the Kylarnatians for quite some time now, and they haven't really been happy." The chancellor laughed. "Please. We're an Empire, too. And even though the people in the territories haven't always been happy with it, we've had no major problems since the Sirian revolution. And we all knew how that ended. It was over before it really began." Mindy shot her a look. "Still, Felicia may have a point. We shouldn't rush in guns blazing just yet. Who are we, Crontorians? No, we must first see if we can't keep this confined to Tiami alone, and keep all foreign involvement out of it." She turned to the operator. "Call Lester at the SRC. Get him into this conference immediately." "Yes, ma'am."

A moment later, the display on the screen split, and Lester appeared. "My lady?" "Mr Lester, you will now receive a highly classified Inquisition report. You will by now probably have heard about the situation in Tiami?" Lester nodded. "Of course I have. Quite the mess." Mindy nodded. "Indeed. And your job will be to prevent the mess from getting even worse." The representative nodded again. "As you wish, my lady. The council will be meeting shortly. I'll see what I can achieve." The chancellor sighed. "Very well. See what you can do, and report to us as soon as the council session is over." "Understood, Chancellor." With that, Lester cut the connection.

"Well," Sakura said slowly. "We'll just have to wait and see what the SRC does. It doesn't really make a difference whether we mobilize now or in three hours. Call us once you've heard from him again, will you?" Without waiting for a reply, the Shogun, too, cut the channel. "Yes," Daniela said as she and the Regent left the room, "Let's wait what the council says. But still, we should be ready to take military action if necessary." Mindy nodded slowly. "We will do what is necessary. But only what is necessary."


SRC Council Building
Sondria City, SRC Islands

Sir James Lester sighed as he shut down communications with the capital. Why was it always he who had to sort out other people's mess? He shook his head and reached for his phone. For situations like this, he always had the commander of the SDF, Grand Admiral Violette de Lune, on quick-dial.

Twenty minutes later, de Lune walked into Lester's office. Her bright red uniform jacket with the white collar and strap of the Imperial Navy and the gold trimmings of a flag officer was a stark contrast to her black skirt, black boots and long, dyed black hair. With a quick move of her hand, she released the shoulder strap and opened her jacket, swiftly throwing it over a chair in the corner of the office. Underneath the jacket, she wore the white turtleneck that belonged to the uniform, complete with branch badge and rank insignia on a patch on the left side of the chest.

Without waiting for Lester to say anything, she pulled out a chair and sat down. "Let me be open with you, James. I don't think the SRC will be able to decide on one united course of action here." Lester sighed and nodded. "I agree. This uprising in Tiami plays right into the hands of the LCU. Kylarnatia and their Tiamian puppet will of course demand that we intervene and crush the rebellion. If I remember correctly what I've read about Malsitar, their delegate will probably support that notion, since they've had some bad experience with rebellions. On the other hand, they don't look too kindly upon imperialism, either." The Grand Admiral smiled sadly. "Yes, and nobody knows what the Erisians and the Millsans, or any of the other minor players will vote." She shook her head. "In any case, I will try to block any attempts to deploy the SDF until there is a serious threat to the entire region."

Lester reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a file. "I got this from the capital. The Council and High Command are currently weighing their options, and they are seriously considering military intervention." The Grand Admiral nodded again. "I have also been informed. I hope I won't have to leave the SDF to go to war. You know the saying, when the cat's away..." "..the rats will play. I know." Lester was aware that he had slightly altered the saying, but it was intentional - and the Grand Admiral knew that. "Precisely."

[Onekawa-Nukanor]

---

Region: Sondria
Nation: Ngati Onekawa-Nukanor
Coordinates: N/A
Specific Location: Office of the Maori King, Tribal Palace, Tumatauenga Pa

---

The Māori King had been enjoying a small break, along with his family, from there many governmental duties. 'Had' was the operative word, after being forced to travel back to the capital from his holiday home in Mahia to deal with what was slowly evolving into a potentially explosive situatio. The end of the Plague War and the handing out of vaccines had not settled down the region. Sondria had always been a powder keg. The Plague War had, in terms of sheer numbers, killed many, but when one was to look at the situation in regards to percentage of population killed and infected, the number was a little under .5%. Although deemed brutal by anyone who might look from the outside, the leaders of the nation had to agree that the loss, in purely logical thinking, was 'acceptable' despite how each government member hated thinking it.

Right now, the Māori King was looking over an increasing number of reports coming out of his Foreign Affairs and Defence ministries. Both Ministers were with him now, and trying to explain the details of the current situation.

'So, it appears that those Kylarntians are stuck with what is quite an unforunate situation on there hands. Got to feel for them, I remember the rebellions on the Onewhera Islands in 1997, so at least I can somewhat understand what kind of situation they may be in' Toa Onekawa stated 'but I suppose this sirtuation isn't all bad from our viewpoint".

[Insert Foreign Minister Name Here] and Henare Kamaka both nodded there heads in agreement. Although not offically made public, yet, Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor was starting to exert its diplomatic muscle and roll its enormous shoulders. Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor could be one of the foremost powers on the international stage after long years in isolation. But Kylarntia's influence in the region was one of the factors that stopped that from happening. But Kylarntian power in the region was starting to unravel. The civil war in Tiami was proof of this.

Kylarntia power needed to be minimized in the region. Not only would it be good for Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor but for the region as a whole. Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor was a rising major power in the region, while Kylarntia was a fading one, throw the LCU into the mix and you have at least 3 major powers vying for top dog. No one nation could, not yet anyway, claim to be the domiant force in the region, but the balance of power was start to tip. What way no one would ever really be able to guess with 100% accuracy, but there were always indictators.

The Māori King took a glass of water, and continued speaking 'So Henare Kamaka, what kind of detail can you explain of the military situation in Tiami?”

“Of course you Majesty” he began “at the moment' Henare Kamakano side the advantage. You've read the report on the rebels capture of that arms warehouse, so we can expect them to be reasonably armed, even if there equipment is outdated. This situation does not look like it sprang out of no where either, from the reports we can gather, the capture of the warehouse was a professional job, so I expect them to have a core of trained military personnel. If I was to guess, this core would be a mix of veterans from the Tiamian-Kylarntian conflict, plus some of there more eager recuits, everyone else is probably trained to an extent, but how much we don't know. ”

“One things the rebels will have going for them is morale and numbers, at least by the latter stages of the war. I'm not sure what kind of numerical state they re in, but from what we can glean, I would assume at least 85,000. Probably more.” He then flicked through some of his reports that he had on hand, before identifing the report he needed.

“The Kylarntian and loyal Tiamain forces are in good shape to. The have complete naval domiance, to be expected, and complete air domiance as well. They also have, on the whole, superior equipment and the training to know how to use if effectively. At this stage, they also possess superior numbers.”

The Foreign Minister interjected “And who can forget those Black Cobra?, must say never been a fan of them. Less a military force than personal hitmen for that Caesar bitch of theres. She probably needs a good fucking to be honest, perhaps from behind?” he mused”but no one can doubt there ability. They brought down the Tiamain citadel within hours.”
Toa smiled, his Foreign Minister might seem like politeness and manners personified, when meeting with VIP's from overseas and so forth, but he still maintained his orignal, more brash and brazen version from his time living on Onekawa-Nukanors capitals less prosperous streets. It always surprised him in a way. Diplomats almost never spoke like this, in there personal lives or other wise.

“ Tell me Heketoro Iraia, can we resonably guess what how the rest of the region is going to respond to this particular incident? I'm betting Crontor is already supporting those rebels right now”

“You got that right Majesty. Any man who passed primary can guess that wht Crontor is doing. Although I do suspect that they might hold off for a tad, of course only so they can inventory what they can supply those rebels” he paused 'But those imperial to there north, the 'L' in the LCU, Im not so sure. They might be more cautious, they have less reson to hate those walking lampposts than Crontor, and more specifically Rockepeller, does. But I say they will at least support the rebels without supplying them with anything, except cash.”

“The Mighty Islands are going to back Kylarntia 8 times out of 10. That alliance of theres oblges them to. Not sure about ground forces, but they will offern assisstance at least supplies, and maybe naval and aeria; military personnel. This is more Henare Kamaka area”

Henare Kamaka caught the hint “If I was TMI, than I wouldn't send ground forces. TMI suffered pretty severly at the hands of that plague, and there military might have been hit to. The Plague War might have ended, but the memories and experiences of it won't. Going off to war while still rebuilding there nations morale is not a good move, expecially since it has nothing directly to do with them. Not only that, but Tiami and The Mighty Islands have a long, hostile history. More likely scenario is that they get ships steaming northwards and aircraft flying to Flanders if Kylarntia asks for there support, or accepts an offer of assisstance. But the tramp of TMI boots on foreign soil is unlikely, at least that is the smart move”
The Māori King turned back to his Foriegn Minister “And the other nations in the region, what kinds 0f things can we expect coming from them?”

“Aquilinia is going to stick with its close ties to Kylarntia, that I am fairly sure of. Aquilnia and Kylarntia have a long history of being sharing each others bed, and I can't think of any reason why they would go back on that, unless something fucking insane has happened” [Foreign Minister] shuffled through his untidy heap of papers, and both Minister and Majesty caught a glimpse of a recepit, plus a shopping list, before the Minister found what he wanted.

“The ones that are really interesting are Malsitar and maybe Gerrivca. Both border Tiami, and both, if they have any brains, will be looking nervously at there borders. It ain't hard for conflicts to become generalised if borders aren't kept in lockdown. Smart man says that both of these nations will shutdown there borders, as well as any air traffic from Tiami. Also, just from looking at the map, I bet Crontor wants to supply the rebels through Malsitar if Malsitar is willing. Those Malsitarians have been damn quiet for blinkin ages as far as Foreign Affairs goes. I can't really expand on either, our knowledge on them you could write on a napkin.”

“With that knowledge, I assume it is safe is that the region is going to be pretty evenly split? The Maori King asked.
Both Ministers responded at the same time “Agreed”

'If thats the case, then I suppose we tip the scales to our favour. I want those Kylarntians to be brought down a couple of notches. If Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor wants to be great, to have mana beyond that of any nation, removing Kylarntia suffcently from the picture is going to make our jobs easier. To that effect, I want to supply those rebels. We can't through away a chance like this, and if we get likely, we don't even need for any of our people to be killed.” Toa Onekawa took another drink.

“First off, [Defence Minister] I want you to start taking inventory of our current military stock, be it in service or storage, and start ompiling list of equipment that we can supply the rebels. If you can, try to not give them our shinest toys. Get to it, and report to me when you are ready”

“Heketoro Iraia, I want you to contact both Malsitar and Crontor. Any man with a half a brain knows that Crontor is going to supply them, an as stated in one of the reports you gave me, are probably going to use Malistar to supply from. I want to know whether or not Malsitar is going to allow us to supply the rebels over there borders”

“And we want Crontors cooperation. Our job will be easier of breaking the Cobras back if we can get them on our side, and it might allow us tos tart making some concrete connections in the region.”

Both men took there que, and got up and left to take care of there assigned jobs.


Greetings Crontor. May I say that your for the losses the LCU as a whole suffered at the hands of those Island Princes were tragic. If there is anything that you may need in terms of assisstance, such as compensation for the relatives from personal, then you can hae the help of Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor as a whole, and even the assisstace of the Māori King.

For many years, one cannot deny that Kylarntia has held too much sway in Sondrian Affairs. Despite how they model themselves, it is not fooling anyone that Kylarntia is a Gothic, rather than a Sondrian State. They may think otherwise, but if that is so than that Caesar Siliver is more deluded than I took her for. I do not condemn such thinking, it is only reasonble to think of ones home region as more important than a colonial one, but it is not condusive to make things positive for the region in Sondria is Gothic and Sondrian interests collide.

But Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor and The Imperial Federation of Crontor are, and always will be, Sondrian States. We might have only relatively recently come out of a diplomatic isloation, but that does not mean they we're not keeping a close eyes on regional politics and interactions, and we have not beem impressed by Kylarntian actions. Therefore I propose a parntership. Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor has long been annoyed by not only Kylarntian actions, but her treatment of Sondria powers as weaker, inferior states. What is Ghologth but a name?

We are aware of your anger against Kylarntia, and are aware that this rebellion in Tiami has probably been brought to your immediate attention. These rebels are going to struggle against Tiamian Loyalists and Kylarntian military force if the rebellion drags on too long. But if we were to support them with arms, funding and supplies, and if deemed nessecary, with men, than the possibility of a victory become significantly more likely.

-OFFICIAL INVOICE-

---

To: The Unified Federal Republics of Malsitar
From: Onekawa-Nukanor Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Subject: Arms Acquisition
Encryption: Very High

---

To the respected leaders of the Unified Federal Republics;

Greetings. We here in Ngati Onekawa-Nukanor are just now learning, as we are sure you are already well aware, of the outbreak of violence in the nation of Tiami. We also understand that this may have serious implications for the safety and security of the Unified Federal Republics and its citizens. As Tiami is a crown dependency of the nation of Kylarnatia, there is a high potential for the violence to escalate, as Kylarnatia will look to quell the uprising.

We are approaching you because we are aware that you have been made aware of the situation, and more than likely know the possible implications of Kylarnatian involvement. We have faced civil war before in the Imperial Federation, and know firsthand that what begins as a local conflict can soon escalate and spill over international borders. This could not only leave your nation in an awkward situation, but compromise the safety and security of your nation, and quite possibly your sovereignty. This is something we do not wish to see happen.

Ngati Onekawa-Nukanor is a strong supporter of the basic human rights of all global citizens, why we fear this civil war could easily turn into a bloodbath. While we would like to see diplomacy prevail in this matter, we feel that at this point in the conflict that may not be a viable option, given the historical context for the uprising. In an attempt to try and avoid an unnecessary slaughter, we would like to find a way to supply the rebels with the necessary materials to overthrow their oppressive government, because as strong supporters of basic human rights, we would like to see every person given their right to self determination.

In order to discuss this and other matters, we would very much like to meet with you. We are interested to hear what you have to say, and look forward to this summit. Thank you.

-OFFICIAL INVOICE-

---

To: The Imperial Federation of Crontor
From: Onekawa-Nukanor Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Subject: Arms Acquisition
Encryption: Very High

---

Greetings Crontor. May I say that your for the losses the LCU as a whole suffered at the hands of those Island Princes were tragic. If there is anything that you may need in terms of assisstance, such as compensation for the relatives from personal, then you can hae the help of Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor as a whole, and even the assisstace of the Māori King.

For many years, one cannot deny that Kylarntia has held too much sway in Sondrian Affairs. Despite how they model themselves, it is not fooling anyone that Kylarntia is a Gothic, rather than a Sondrian State. They may think otherwise, but if that is so than that Caesar Siliver is more deluded than I took her for. I do not condemn such thinking, it is only reasonble to think of ones home region as more important than a colonial one, but it is not condusive to make things positive for the region in Sondria is Gothic and Sondrian interests collide.

But Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor and The Imperial Federation of Crontor are, and always will be, Sondrian States. We might have only relatively recently come out of a diplomatic isloation, but that does not mean they we're not keeping a close eyes on regional politics and interactions, and we have not beem impressed by Kylarntian actions. Therefore I propose a parntership. Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor has long been annoyed by not only Kylarntian actions, but her treatment of Sondria powers as weaker, inferior states. What is Ghologth but a name?

We are aware of your anger against Kylarntia, and are aware that this rebellion in Tiami has probably been brought to your immediate attention. These rebels are going to struggle against Tiamian Loyalists and Kylarntian military force if the rebellion drags on too long. But if we were to support them with arms, funding and supplies, and if deemed nessecary, with men, than the possibility of a victory become significantly more likely.

[The Mighty Islands]

The Mighty Islands
Capital: Caliban
Capitol building

President Ashton called back the Head of International Ambassadors, Natasha Clouse, after the Blood Knight Grandmaster left. She sat down on a lone chair and crossed her legs politely. She smiled, curving the sides of her mouth towards her brown eyes. Her long black hair was flattened by the back of the chair where she sat in silence waiting for Ashton to speak. After a few seconds, he looked up from his desk and began to speak.

"The SRC is going to be called soon," Ashton said, "I'm trusting you to represent what The Mighty Islands wants at this meeting. You have my blessing to do as you wish, and the power of the government behind you."

Natasha smiled, the President-Elect had finally given his trust to her, "I'll do what I need to do. I'll keep you updated on my progress at all times."

"I'd rather you didn't," Ashton said, "Plausible deniability is best for us now. However, you should know what the complete plan is, as I've already informed Grandmaster Silvana. Speaking of the Blood Knights, don't mention them to anyone, the longer they stay secret the better. Although, they will provide you with protection during your stay at the SRC."

Natasha nodded, "Thank you, sir. I'll do my best. Will you excuse me? I have a few messages to send."

"You should work on them on the place," Ashton said, "You should be the first to SRC, it'll help in the long run."

"Yes, sir," she said before frowning slightly, "Won't it be strange that I am arriving long before anyone else without the meeting being called?"

"What are you talking about?" Ashton asked with a devilish smiled, "You've been with the fourth fleet for the past two weeks, according to all official reports regarding your location."

"I have?" she asked with false surprise, "I'd better get to where I've been for the past week or the reports will start to conflict."

Ashton winked, "Good luck Clouse."

Code: Select all

To: The Imperial Federation of Crontor
From: Mighty Islands Head of International Ambassadors, Natasha Clouse
Encryption Level: High

Dear Supreme Commander and President Lisa Wuhren

It has come to our attention, and to yours as well I am sure, of a rising insurgency in Tiami. At the next SRC meeting, or an earlier time if you do not wish to wait, I would like to speak with you regarding a course of action for both of our nations regarding this matter. While you may not be keen on working with the Mighty Islands, I invite you to first research or recall, whichever it may be, the past 500 years of conflict between Tiami and The Mighty Islands. Please consider this before making a harsh decision that may remove the existence of a valuable ally.

[Aquilinia]

Unknown Location

So, it had begun. The Kylarnatian Crown Dependency of Tiami was at war - with itself. Soon, the representatives of the regional powers would decide on a united course of action - or would they? The Aquilinian Empire would surely support its Kylarnatian allies, as would the Mighty Islands. On the other hand, the Luso-Cron union would take the opportunity to strike against its old rival. Onekawa-Nukanor, Millsa, Erjunhuf, Malsitar, Erisia - those nations would join one of these two major groups, whichever they believed served their goals. Soon, the Tiamian Civil War would become a proxy war between almost all nations in the region. The situation would be any diplomat's nightmare.

Nightmare - Faolain smiled at the thought of the word. The Nightmare Court would use the chaos to strike at their Aquilinian oppressors. Although they would not yet strike directly. First, they would weaken the Empire's standing with its allies, and strengthen its enemies. Then, with the Empire at its weakest, they would strike. And from the chaos, the Nightmare Court would rise, to free the sylvari and to guide them to their true destiny - to domination.

But that was the future. For now, Faolain had to concentrate on the present. She was still smiling as she reached for the phone on the desk in front of her. She pressed the first quickdial button.


Unknown Location

For many years, she had served her Empire well. Her Empire, and her Empress. But the Empress was no longer important. She had given up all power. And so, it would be up to people like herself to stop the madness that was crawling across the world. But she could not do it alone, she needed allies. Alles that she found in two most unexpected places. Let the politicians talk. Let them make their decisions. Meanwhile, she and her allies would act.

Suddenly, the phone on her desk rang twice. It stopped ringing, and then rang again, three times. The agreed signal. Smiling, she picked the phone up.

"This is the Shadow. Has the moon risen?" She smiled as she recognized Faolain's voice. "The moon has risen over the sea, and the fox is waiting for her prey." She could hear Faolain laughing silently. "Very good. I trust everything will be ready?" "Of course. As agreed. The Fox provides the means and the Moon provides the guidance to spread the Nightmare." Faolain's voice turned anxious. "When?" "Soon. There is only one thing left to be done. I will contact you." She hung up, and switched on her computer. One more thing to be done...

Code: Select all

SONDRIAN DEFENCE FORCE - SECURE DIPLOMATIC MESSAGE

Smiling grimly, she erased the pre-programmed header, and typed in a message. Once she was finished, she sent it directly to the Crontorian High Command.

Code: Select all

------------
To: Supreme Commander Rockepeller
From:----------
Subject: Tiami

Supreme Commander, we have a common goal. The liberation of Tiami. But we both know that we will not liberate Tiami for its own liberty's sake, but to weaken their overlords. We have different reasons, but the same objective. And we are willing to cooperate. Our agent will be waiting for you in Vienna, in front of the building opposite the Aquilinian embassy, at midnight. If you wish to cooperate, arrange to have them taken to you. They will be waiting for one hour. If you do not co-operate, we will continue on our own. But there will be no regard to your interests in that case.
We are the Nightmare, ready to embrace and destroy our foes. Are with us, or against us?


[Crontor]

Sondria;
Luso-Cron Union;
Imperial Federation of Crontor;
Columbia Province;
Vienna;
Crontorian Military Pyramid:

Nestled in the Situation Room of the Crontorian Military Pyramid, a much smaller cadre of officials was now meeting. Solely military and diplomatic officers were present, mainly Rockepeller, the Imperial Consuls, Minister Crowell, Minister Suderity, and Ambassador Gavin Cranico who was displayed on the wall, speaking from his SRC headquarters with Farnell. Rockepeller had called Emperor Ulric earlier in the day, who was on vacation with his wife, Elizabeth, Christian Cranico’s daughter. He had approved of what they were about to do, so all the necessary components were in place.

The flurry of diplomatic messages, delivered by Suderity moments before, was now being reviewed by all those present. Gavin waited as he had received them all earlier, patiently scribbling down notes on a pad off camera. He was pleased by the response from most nations. Malsitar, the Ngati Onekawa-Nukanor, and the Mighty Islands all seemed willing to hold private talks following the main meeting of the SRC, which was probably due to begin relatively shortly. It was possible they could also encourage the Aquilinians and Millsans to join, which would certainly tip the balance towards the LCU.

Rockepeller was mostly intrigued by the short message that had arrived from this mysterious…group he assumed, that had something to do with Nightmares. Nevertheless, they had some connection to Aquilinia, he deduced considering their choice to meet outside that particularly embassy, rather than the dozens of others available. It was worth the attempt, any attempt to dislodge the Kylarnatians from there iron grip over Tiami.

“So,” began Gavin after all had put there papers down, “it would appear that I will be holding quite the large meeting following the next SRC one. That is good is it not?”

“Yes,” said Minister Suderity, “the more nations on our side, the easier it is to tip the balance of power in our favor. The fact that the Ngati and the Mighty Islands came first to us shows that there seems to be a general level of discontent against their rule in the region. We need to move to strengthen these alliances.”

Especially with Malsitar,” added Minister Crowell, “they are very strategically placed, considering their proximity to both Flanders and Tiami. Who knows, we might be able to relocate Eastern Command to Malsitar, which, is much better than its current location.”

“Okay, cut the chatter,” yawned Rockepeller, throwing the papers into the middle of the table, “Suderity, get a message out to all of the people that seem to be aligned with us. Tell them to meet with Gavin. Gavin, prepare to meet with them, and Crowell, see what the cost would be of moving Eastern Command Headquarters. I am going to deal with these ‘Nightmare’ people myself.”

---

Receivers: Natasha Clouse (TMI), Ngati Onekawa-Nukanor, and Ienon T. Molotiovu (Malsitar)
Encryption: High

Sender: The Imperial Federation of Crontor
Subject: Unrest In Tiami and Common Goals

To the respected recipients;

Greetings. It would appear, through indications of one way or another, that all of our nations hare similar goals and interests in regards to the growing unrest in Tiami. Whether these are humanitarian, political, or otherwise oriented we have all recognized that in order to bring about the completion of our goals, then we must work together and coordinate resources.

As some of you have already noted or requested, the Sondrian Regional Council ambassador from Crontor, Gavin Cranico, will be having an informal meeting in his office chambers following the next formal SRC meeting, with the intentions of discussing cooperation on this matter.

Perhaps we can garner enough votes to call for an SDF intervention. No matter what, we must strive for cooperation and coordination on this matter. Thank you for your time.

Signed;

Supreme Commander Rockepeller

---

Receiver: Unknown Sender
Encryption: High

Sender: The Imperial Federation of Crontor
Subject: Message

Hello;

While we usually do not work with groups so…unknown to us, we wish to at least speak with you on this case. If you do in fact share our goals, we are more than happy to work with you.

You can say we are with you. Our personnel will arrive at 12:15 in two unmarked SUV’s. Feel free to climb right into the right side passenger door of the first one, but knock twice first.

-Supreme Commander Rockepeller

[Tiami]

Marisike sat idly in her bedroom. Only moments ago, she had learned that the Citadel, her capital, was to be put on lockdown. The entire country would soon follow in the capital's footsteps. Though her Caesar had ordered the lockdown, Marisike highly opposed of such measures. Openly defying the Caesar would result in brutal consenquences. Not just for her, but for the whole populace. Silvier was already angered by the sudden uprsing; Marisike didn't wish to anger her further.


In only a few short hours, Marisike was to be flown to her fortress in the Alkharanian Mountains to take refuge from rebel activity and effectively run the country from there. She would also need to call on Marshall Goodard, her Councilmen for the Sondrian Regional Council, to discuss possibilities with the other nations of the region, and what their responses were to the eruption of civil war in Tiami. Marisike herself, personally alerted him, and he was ordered to Flanders to meet with Valentina Sabina, her Caesar's delegate to the Sondrian Regional Council, within the hour.


As Marisike prepared for her departure to the ancient fortress, she thought of what was to be left behind. Her people, city, and country would be clueless without her leadership from the seat of power, for it just wouldn't be the same. A tear strung from her left eye as she finished packing. Within the minute of finishing her packing, she was escorted to a private helicopter situated on the top of the Villa De Citadel. As the helicopter lifted off, Marisike glimpsed one final time to the country she was effectively leaving, and at the statue of the Grand Mother which looked over the capital with absolute authority. In the wake of her view, she began to cry uncontrollably. She had failed to protect the Republic from internal threats like she had promised when she was crowed Regent.


Then she remembered something else she had learnt. Hyperion was on his way. She began to cry even more.

Underground Military Complex, Shoru
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
11:02am East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

Alfred and his accomplices has achieved a massive victory early on in this war they had started, and they knew it. The armaments warehouse, designated 'Armaments Warehouse 0023', had been assaulted and the equipment had been acquired with almost complete ease. With the word that Crown Regent Marisike Yamaku had fled the Citadel, her glorious capital, the result was even more pleasing. It had effectively caused a dip in Alkharanian Morale. As for the Kylarnatian bastards who to Alfred, plagued the land, who knew what they were thinking. Kylarnatians were like robots; they listened to their leader and obeyed, partly in fear of being killed.


Alrfred's next move would be against the medium-sized city of Martin, one of the few cities along the Western Alkharanian coast. As the Queen city of the West, capturing her would open up trade for military supplies from supporters of Alfred's cause; however, caution was advised, as the Alkaranian Eleventh legion was stationed within the city. The Alkharanian Legions were well known. The eleventh legion in particular was one of the best known and well-trained legion within the Alkharanian Royal Defence Forces. Numbering twelve-thousand men a legion, a large siege force would be required in order to overwhelm the mighty Alkharanian fore. When sieging Martin, Rebellion troops would need to watch out for the legion's brutal efficiency.


And even then, there was the trouble of protecting Martin. With the country now on lockdown due to the orders of the 'Bitch', as Alfred simply called her, Kylarnatian and Alkharanian Naval Elements surrounded all the major ports of Tiami. If they did catch Martin, they had no Navy or Aerial Forces to fight on their side, so they would be pinned down and crippled, and the enemy could simply level the city if they felt it better then letting it fall into Alfred's hands.


Sitting at a round table within the bowels of the vast underground military base, Alfred awaited for his three top advisors to enter. Nathan McDuffrey, Turner Jones, and Geoffry Grast, whom helped start the rebellion. They were now there to aid Alfred in planning the beginning stages of the Siege of Martin. All four had agreed that capturing Martin was a top priority before the entire country was to be taken control of.


As they arrived, Alfred greeted them with a nod and handshake and then he gestured for them to take their seats around the table. After they were all settled, Alfred lit a cigar and began to speak, between puffing on the cigar.


"Gentlemen, the astounding victory we achieved in Shoru at Armaments Warehouse 0023 was a titanic blow to Alkharanian and perhaps even Kylarnatian Morale," Alfred said as he puffed out a large ring of smoke. "I believe, that Citadel is a worthy target to take, as taking control of her would mean an early turn of events for this war. The government would effectively be defunct and we could assume control. However, before we can do so, Martin needs to come under our command. She offers a strategic area of the country. If we capture her, the west coast is effectively under our control."


Some of the men present knew he was over-exaggerating the power they would actually have if they took Martin, but they could not call him on it. They just had to go with their guts, otherwise the enemy would cave in on them.


"Alfred, you do realize that Martin is home to the famous eleventh legion?" Geoffrey questioned. "They withstood Kylarnatian bombardment for over six months during the Siege of Martin and was one of the two successfuul legions in the Republic to actually gain an advantage over Kylarnatian forces, thus bringing the stalemate. The eleventh legion alone would be the cause of the most casulties taken on our side. Their kill ratio is thirty to one god-damn it!"


"Geoffrey, calm down," Alfred ordered, with a calm resolve. "You are forgetting that even though they are the on of the best Tiami has to offer, only half of the Kylarnatian wars eleventh legion veterans are present. Half of the legion is filled with completely new recruits. Never the less, they are a force to be trifl-"


"It would take quite awhile to beat them out," Nathan interrupted. "So, without further delay, Alfred, explain to us the plan for your siege of Martin."


"Of course, Nathan," Alfred responded as he took another puff from his cigar. "It's simple, but effective. A force of over a hundred thousand of our troops are to surround the city. Once artillery batteries are placed and troops entrenched, we'll unleash hell in a sixteen hour artillery barrage. Once the bombardment is over, Rebel Army six will approach from the West towards the main entrance with an armada of Alkharanian T-1 tanks which we recently captured. As they advance, troops stationed to the north and south will advance, forming a pincer, cutting off any way of escaping the city. We will squeeze the air out of their lungs."


Alfred spoke with determination and inspiration, but also a slight hint of madness. Turner decided at this point to make himself heard.


"Alfred," He called out. "What we do need to know is when this is due to take place. Our troops still need some additional training from Nathan before they're ready and our supplies will need to be stocked."


"Well, I plan for this to take place within two to three months time," he replied musely. "It's in our best interests, before the Kylarnatians and Alkharanian mobilize to their full strength, to control several strongholds so that we can weather their coming assault. But for now, as the logistics, planning, and military training continues, we need to continue several warehouse raids and continue recruiting more to our cause."


"Then what warehouse do you plan to attack?" Geoffrey questioned.


"Armaments Warehouse 0024," Alfred replied suddenly. "Inside the warehouse is large and vast amount of T-1 Alkharanian tanks from the early two-thousands. Deemed 'obsolete' by the Alkharanian's today, but still capable of inflicting large-scale damage. Caution is advised on this raid, however, for scout reports have it that a portion of the Alkharanian thirty-fourth legion broke off to protect it. About two-hundred and fifty legion soldiers are reported to be protecting it. That can only mean that a difficult fight is ahead, for all the future warehouse raids in fact. After Warehouse 0023, they've ramped up security on everything."


"Very well, I'll have my troops readied and we'll raid the building tonight," Nathan responded. "Praise the Rebellion!"


Each of the men then stood up, and walked out of the room, leaving Alfred in the room alone. Alfred simply chuckled as a wide grin emerged across his face. His overconfidence was beginning to show. It was this very overconfidence which could end up costing him a war.

Villa De Goodard, Makro
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
11:26am East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

Within his villa, Marshall Goodard was relaxing on his couch. The city of Makro hadn't been hit by the civil war yet, and was one of the few safe havens in the country. He had just received news of his summoning to Flanders, the capital Kylarnatian colony in Sondria, which was funnily enough also named Flanders. He was to meet up with the Kylarnatian delegate to the Sondrian Regional Council, Domina Legato Valentina Sabina. After a brief meeting, they would fly to the Sondrian Regional Council Islands together. There, they would discuss the ongoing issue in the Republic with the rest of the regions representatives.


The sounds of a chopper startled Marshall. As he stood up to take a closer look, he heard a large thud, and then a knock on his door. Answering the door, there stood a Dark Ace, one of the coveted elite Alkharanian covert unit. Handing Marshall a letter, Marshall opened it and read. In the contents of the letter it read that he was to be air-lifted to Flanders by Dark Ace pilots instead of conventional pilots due to the risk posed by rebel activity in the country. Although the rebels did not operate any aircraft, they did operate AA Guns. After reading the letter, he was escorted to the helicopter and took his seat. In the brief space of a minute, the chopper lifted off and was quickly en route to Flanders.


Only an hour later, the helicopter had flown safely into Flanders without any hostile actions from rebel troops. As the helicopter approached the designated helicopter pad at the Fort Flanders Air Base, the pilot transmitted a request to land.


"The is Dark Ace, carrying Delegate Marshall Goodard. Requesting permission to land, over."


There was silence, then a fuzz and crack on the radio. "Dark Ace, this is the Fort Flanders Air Base Tower. Permission granted, over."


When the helicopter settled down on the pad, Goodard knew he was in for a long day.

Armaments Warehouse 0024, Shoru
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
11:02pm East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

After many hours of being briefed on the raid, a reasonably sized force of approximately three hundred men set off for the raid of Armaments Warhouse 0024. Reports had it that the warehouse was guarded by the Alkharanian legion. But upon a closer look, it appeared to the rebels that Kylarnatia's infamous Black Cobra were the only force present, fifty in all. Loyal to their Caesar, they were ruthless and cunning, knowing no remorse. They killed on a moments notice, and all of the Tiamian people had heard the nightmarish tales of their deeds, either through playground scary stories or a history documentary.


Ariel Martin was the man in charge of the raid. He was perched a top a small office building looking through binoculars at the Armaments Warehouse, which was just across the street. Having been a former Captain in the Alkharanian Legions, he was well suited for his current role, which was to give the 'go' call on the assault. Ariel had snipers stationed around the building up to a mile away to assure their safety. He knew there would be a fight, a bloody one in fact. Against the Black Cobra, if the tales spoke true, they were all sure to die, but the Alkharanian rebels had high morale, and they did outnumber the Black Cobra. That would surly work in their favour?


After a scrutinous hour of preparing for the raid, his snipers were in place, awaiting Ariel's command. As Ariel watched the dark outlines of the Black Cobra stand at the warehouse motionless, their eyes beaming red, burning his vision even from a mile away, thoughts ran through his head. He was up against the most brutal force in Sondria. They were renowned for their effectiveness and their actions spoke more than their words. A silent prayer crossed his memory and with the usher of a word, the battle would commence. "We can win."


Into his microphone, Ariel gave his order;


"Snipers, take them out."


With a sudden ring, hot ordinance streamed out of the snipers barrels and directly towards the Black Cobra. The rebels peered out from the shadows to see the results. All that they had wished for had abandoned them.

[Kylarnatia]

Fortress Bradley, Alkharanian Mountains
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
11:42am East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

"The Crown Regent is on her way, Dux Imperator."

An Opti assured the Dux Imperator, who stood at the epicentre of Fortress Bradley, where he looked over a long glass table which featured a built in battle display, noting the movements of all Kylarnatian and Alkharanian Forces inside and around the Caesar's Republic, all catalogued in feeds which could be accessed with the press of a glowing symbol on the table, for it was also touch screen. The light of the table illuminated Dux Imperator Romulus Cato's face, which was tense with concentration and nerve, as he did not take his eyes off the table.

"I should hope so, Opti. This is the safest place for her." His response was sharp and brief, for he had other things to worry about.

The Opti smiled and then stamped his foot on the floor, before pounding his right pectoral with his left fist in the Kylarnatian salute. He then dismissed himself, which left Romulus alone at the centre of the fortress. Though he was not truly alone, for all above him a catacomb of workings stretched upwards, towards the heavens, and within them thousands of personnel worked at designated stations. It was the conforming beauty of Logistics.

Dux Imperator Romulus had located to Fortress Bradley soon after the lock down order was given, so he could take better command of the forces and hopefully, do his best to protect poor Marisike from the wrath of Hyperion, who was a whole two weeks away, with a complete force in tow. Romulus knew that Hyperion would be quick to punish her for something she had not really done, and would in turn take her whole dignity from her. He remembered, very vividly, how the ancient Imperator had once dragged the Queen of L'unibarc (which was now a Kylarnatian dominion) into her deceased husbands throne room and chained her to the throne like a dog, where she stayed until the arrival of Caesar Kain upon victory. She was then taken by the Sisterhood, and nobody knows what happened to her after that.

As a man of pride and one with a sense of humanity, Romulus could not let Hyperion do the same to her. She was still an asset to the Caesar, even though the country had now fallen to civil war under her watch. His attention still fixed on the table, Romulus took a look at the feed of the Seventh Agmen (Army), which was based in the Citadel. They were now moving through the streets, the feed reported, installing order and taking down all rebels who attacked them, though it seems fighting was at its most minimal point from the last time he checked. Romulus then took his time to check on the statue of the Grand Mother, which stood over the Citadel like a giant female warrior who was ready to swallow it whole at the first sign of disobedience. Although it was just a statue, it had to stay standing.

For if it came down either before or during Hyperion's presence in Tiami, then the Caesar would sorely regret sending Hyperion in to clean up the mess. For he would create his own.

Residence of Valentina Sabina, The Fortress of Flanders
The Caesar's Crown Dominion of Flanders, Eastern Sondria
1:03pm East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

Upon landing at the Fort Flanders Air Base, Marshall Goodard would have been escorted off the helicopter and driven to the residence of Valentina Sabina by a small Fire Team, for they could not gurantee he was completely safe in Flanders either, because there was also the possibility that the attempted uprising happening in Tiami could influence an attempted uprising in Flanders as well, especially with Dux Imperator Romulus Cato moving forces over the border. Though the people of Flanders were happy, so it was much less likely that fighting would break out their, but the Imperium had to take its steps lightly.

When the small motorcade arrived outside the residence, it had just passed mid-day. The fire team escorted Marshall Goodard up the steps, and then knocked on the door. After a short pause an a second knock from the Lancia Corperalis, the door was opened by Olympias Photina, the young Auxiliatrix who had been briefing Valentina on the situation in Tiami for the past few hours. Brushing her long blonde fringe away from her face, she smiled and gestured for them all to come in, and immediately took them down the hallway into the living room, which was decorated with fine rugs and a three piece suite. Three glasses of wine sat on the glass coffee table at the centre of the suite, and on the single seat which had its back to the window was Valentina Sabina, who was dressed in a rather simple brown uniform, which was an off-duty uniform from her days in the Military Police.

Biting her lip awkwardly as the crowd entered, she immediately stood and strode out for Goodard's hand, to shake it. Although on a carpet surface, her heels still made a satisfying 'clunk' as she walked. clunk, clunk, clunk.

"You must be Marshall Goodard. I'm Domina Legato Valentina Sabina, and my companion here is Olympias Photina, an Auxiliatrix from the Ministerium Externa, who has so kindly briefed me on the situation in Tiami and the response of the Imperium. Please, by all means, take a seat."

Valentina broke a smile as she gestured for Goodard to sit on the three-seater sofa that sat against the wall, the painting of a burrow of Auro-Herbae Vulpes hanging above it. As he sat, Valentina went to sit back where she was, while Olympias handed Goodard one of the wine glasses, then took the two others to Valentina, where she gave her one then stood beside her. The fire team simply stood around the suite, and waited until they had to depart with Goodard, Valentina and Olympias.

The Domina Legato took a sip of her wine when it was passed to her, mouthing the words 'thank you' to Olympias, though not saying them out loud. She had gained the habit of talking without making a sound from having to stand at the back of important military conferences, in a similar atmosphere to the one she was in now, so it was kind of forced out of her like a natural instinct. It was weird, but there were more important things to worry about.

"I'll have to cut straight to the chase, Marshall, for we're short on time. We'll have to summon the Sondrian Regional Council on this matter, and I shall give you the honour to do so. Our stance is to be strong and unified. These rebels, from what I've heard, have taken the upper hand at first but they are in no way as advanced as our two nations fine military's, so if the cards are played right this can all be dealt with quite quickly. Yet, it seems that the Caesar, blessed by the Grand Mother, has played an early but very dangerous card. She has ordered Dux Imperator Hyperion take control of the situation. Now, I'm sure you've heard the tales, and believe me, they're true. He has been around for millennia, and will kill hundreds and thousands without a second thought. His children, the Black Cobra, take to him fondly in that respect."

She took another sip of her wine, and then carried on. "We must warn the Sondrian Regional Council of this, although it is not on our main criteria. The other nations of the region may think it funny to poke a beast with a stick, but with their own nationals inside Tiami they'll regret it if he starts a slaughter and they get caught up in it. Luckily, there is only one way that a mass slaughter from him will erupt, and if it is kept safe then only the rebels shall feel his wrath. If it does happen, however, the Caesar will not be able to take responsibility for his actions, for he will become his own man then and follow no orders from anyone. We just have to hope and pray."

"Now, as for the main agenda, we simply have to reassure the Council that the country is under our control and that their nationals inside the borders are safe. Olympias informs me that ideas have been tossed around, and one of them is to transport all foreign nationals to the bunkers at the base of the Alkharanian Mountains, which as you know have been built to house millions of people and have a food supply that will last them years, although they'll only need it for two months at best. What is your take on the situation?"

Valentina and Olympias then waited for his response, as they continued to drink their wine.

Armaments Warehouse 0024, Shoru
The Caesar's Alkharanian Republic, Eastern Sondria
11:00pm East Sondria Time (GMT-4), 11th July 2012

"I also heard they think we rip off the heads of babies and eat the guts, before using the babies body like a coin jar." One of the Black Cobra's who stood out at the front of Armaments Warehouse 0024 voxed over the helmet communications link to the rest of his squad. Only one of the fifty man squad replied.

"Shut up, Domitianus, we don't give a damn about what they think. Lord Hyperion would not be impressed if he knew we were making such small talk. Now keep watch."

The Black Cobra Platoon, from the twenty-fifth legion, stood like statues with beaming red eyes in the night, their grips on their guns tight. In a sudden change of orders, the Alkharanian soldiers which were originally assigned to the warehouse were assigned to patrol the streets of Shoru instead, therefore leaving the burden of protecting the warehouse to the elite soldiers of the Black Cobra twenty-fifth. Though they too, had other plans, so only assigned a platoon to the Armaments Warehouse, to replace the two-hundred and fifty men who were initially supposed to guard it. Though Domitianus had spoke about the rumour that a Black Cobra Legionnaire had the strength of a thousand men. He found them amusing.

"Why are we even bothering to protect this stockpile anyway? Why don't we just burn it? It's of no use to us, and after being burnt, it'll be no use to the rebels either." Domitianus broke the silence that lasted a minute, though he kept his head forward and didn't move a muscle. The man who stood five paces to the right side of him sighed.

"Orders are orders." His voice crackled over the vox quickly in reply, and as he did Domitianus turned his head to look at him.

"With all due respect, Legatus--" Suddenly, a shot rang out, and the conversation was cut short. All the Black Cobra turned their heads slightly as they looked to see where the shot had come from.

It had hit Domitianus right in the side of his helmet, the force of the shot causing him to stumble back a few paces. Yet, amazingly, he was still alive, the strong Tungsten Disulfide Armour stopping the bullet before it reached his skull. Straight on, he looked the same as he did, but from the side one could see that the shot had made a slight fracture in his helmet. He would have to have it replaced. The Black Cobra then turned their attention out to the front again, and the man who had spoke with Domitianus spoke a order calmly over the channel.

"Snipers, you picking up any heat?" In the windows of Armaments Warehouse 0024, ten designated snipers laid patiently with their Arsenal Deimos AR3 7.7mm Sharpshooter Rifles, also equipped with technology to pick up the heat signatures of nearby enemy forces and any gun from which a shot was fired from.

"Three-hundred signatures detected, figures on rooftops surrounding the warehouse on a one-mile radius. Shall we open fire?" The one advantage that the Black Cobra had over the rebels, although they were greatly outnumbered, was that they had better equipment, had much better armour, and they were feared. The rebels they were facing were raised on stories of their dreadful deeds, and although they were adults now, Domitianus had clearly stated that the fear never left them.

"Let slip the hounds of war." The Legatus muttered the motto of the Black Cobra over the channel, and as he did so the Black Cobra let out a stream of fire in all directions, towards the snipers on the rooftops, and to the rebel forces still hiding in the shadows. Their in-helmet feeds notified them of the heat signatures, and registered the changes as they happened.

"Spare one! We need one of them to take the tale of this massacre to their leader!" The Legatus barked over the channel as he continued to spew fire out in precise movements, Domitianus at his side, even with the slight damage to his helmet. He did not want to miss out on the glory of the moment. As a son of Hyperion, he would fight till the air left his lungs.

Within a few minutes, the fighting would be over. In a minor matter of minutes, that was all.

[Malsitar]

The Federal Palace
The City of Moltivac
The Republic of Malotivini
The Unified Federal Republics of Malsitar

Ienon T. Molotiovu was sitting at the desk in his office. The wood was cherry, with a glossy finish applied to it that made it just barely reflective. The top of the desk was inset with marble, and soft black felt still covered all the desk’s edges – a relic from when Patro was an infant. The felt had been put there at the insistence of the boy’s mother, Mina. Ienon’s eyes shot to the faded picture of the happy family that stood to the right of his inkwell. In the twilight of the previous year, she and their daughter had been taken from him by international terrorists during an attack on the city. That was when Malsitar had unilaterally decided to sever all diplomatic ties with the Taboans.

Ienon tore his eyes away and stared out the bay window. It was set into the same wall that his desk was pushed up against, affording him an amazing view of the city. The glass was also constantly being replaced as the Confederal Management Committee’s science department came up with new and better methods of bulletproofing. He was told that not even a missile could break the glass – though he did not see the use in that, considering how little trouble a missile would have with the walls. But he was woolgathering again. With a sigh, he looked down at the monitor set into his desk and finished writing the response to the Onekawans – or whatever they called themselves.

---

From: The Unified Federal Republics of Malsitar.

To: Ngati Onekawa-Nukanor.
Re: Arms Acquisition.
Enc: Maximum.

Onekawa-Nukanor Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Dr. Chandler Whitt will discuss this matter with your representative to the SRC during the meeting with ambassador Cranico to which both of our nations have been invited.

Ienon T. Molotiovu.
Prime Minister of the Parliament of Ministers.
The Unified Federal Republics of Malsitar.

---

With the letter sent off, Ienon picked up his phone and dialed the Secretary of War and Defense for the Confederal Management Committee. The man’s name was Orles Thibefel, and he had served as General of the Second Army during the War of 1972. Ienon only kept him around because he was the last remaining relic of his father’s administration. The man was needed as a reminder of the mistakes that the elder Ienon Molotiovu had made in office. A warning against the sort of destructive imperialism that had led to the Doves’ Rebellion and the war crimes committed against Libercian civilians.

“Sir?” was the word that reminded Ienon he was on the phone.

Ienon turned red and replied, “General Thibefel: We have upgraded to DEFCON 3 in light of the unrest in Tiami. Order the cessation of trade between ourselves and them, as well as between ourselves and Flanders. Close and secure the western border; I am declaring martial law in all the relevant parishes. Alert the fleets in the Alkharanian Sea that they must be prepared to defend themselves if they are attacked. Is that clear?”

The words, “Yes, sir.” were his answer. As Ienon returned the phone to its receiver, he swiveled his chair around to find Patro waiting calmly. Both their faces were grim.

The boy spoke first. “Why do you not fire him? Neither of you likes the other, father.”

Ienon met his son’s eyes. “Someday, mi Patro, when you are sitting in this chair and can look at me with the perfect goggles of hindsight, you will understand.”

“And if I do not want to sit in that chair someday? If that is not my goal in life?”

Patro flinched as his father raised his right hand, but Ienon merely placed it on his son’s shoulder with paternal firmness. “You are a Molotiovu. House Molotiovu is Malsitar – there is no other calling for our family.”

Patro shrugged his father’s hand off and turned to leave. Sternly, his father said, “Do not turn your back on me, Patro Stabano Molotiovu. You cannot run from your patriotic duty.”

The young man briskly walked out of the room without so much as a glance back at his father.

Oglegshavn
Ranfjal Parish
The Republic of Sitaria
The Unified Federal Republics of Malsitar

The troops of the Malsitarian Army moved with surprising efficiency. Most of the reserves had been called out and transported to the westernmost parts of the confederacy within hours. The border parishes were now under military rule, and General Thibefel would ensure that none crossed in or out of Tiami unless ordered otherwise. It was not a terribly hard job – the Alkharanian Mountains were incredibly harsh, at least on this side. It would be a brave soul indeed that could traverse them except in a few places; Oglegshavn was one of those places, and that was why Thibefel had made it his center of command for the duration of this crisis. The town’s very name meant “Smuggler’s Haven”, after all.

Thibefel stood with his arms behind his back, watching military grade all-terrain vehicles roll into town. He began to walk towards the town’s center, watching as soldiers ran back and forth, knocking on doors. He would need every soul present before he would give the address that the Department of Propaganda had given him. In every parish seat along the border, his subordinates would be giving equivalent addresses. This, of course, was the crucial part – to inform the public of the threat that was making this action necessary without yet biasing them towards one side or the other. Thibefel himself was of the opinion that the UFR should support the rightful government of Tiami – that being the one which answered to Kylarnatia. But he was not in charge of the country’s policy. For now.

Roughly an hour later, Thibefel stood at a podium on a hastily erected stage. He was facing all eight hundred residents of Oglegshavn and the one thousand soldiers who were now stationed here. The man cleared his throat and surveyed the crowd, making a note of who looked suspicious. There war far too many – this town was full of liberal pussies, he was sure of it. The kind that had stopped Malsitar from taking what was rightfully hers back in 1972. He remembered the elder Molotiovu’s administration with a fondness not shared by most – those had been the glory days of warm nationalist feelings. But then the hippies had to ruin it all.

Somebody coughed, and General Thibefel began to address the crowd.

“My brothers and sisters. You may be wondering what the meaning of this recent military activity is. I would first like to assure you that there is no need to panic – by order of the Prime Minister, martial law has been declared in all the border parishes and my forces are assuming control. There has recently been an uprising against the government in Tiami. As we do not yet know the exact nature of this insurrection, we have been sent here to close and secure our border with them to prevent the evil that is war from spilling into our fair land. You have nothing to fear, for our primary duty here is seeing to your safety and wellbeing. Thank you.”

He turned off the microphone and was not even to the stairs before he began barking orders. “We will need a headquarters here. Begin to create a camp just outside the town limits, by that mountain pass. Until it can be completed, quarter the troops in the church and the great hall.”

[Onekawa-Nukanor]

---

Region: Sondria
Nation: Ngati Onekawa-Nukanor
Coordinates: N/A
Specific Location: Office of the Maori King, Tribal Palace, Tumatauenga Pa

---

His Tribal Majesty was again in a meeting with his Minister of Foreign Affairs and his Defence Minister. Both had complemented there tasks,, and he was eager to hear what kind of situation Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor was in in regards to this rebellion in Tiami, and what resources that Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor would be able to supply the rebels with. He reflected that over the next couple of months, at least, he was going to be living on pretty minimum sleep, and that means he was going to have to deal with migraines and headaches more often than normal. Damn, he hated headaches. Survivable, but an unnecessary annoyance.

‘Has anything resulted from those messages I got you to send, I am eager and curious to discover the response. I since the formation of the Sondrian Regional Council that we have enjoyed cordial” cordial in Onekawa-Nukanor diplomatic speak had always been code word for 'dull, boring but positive' “relations with those Crontorians. Those Malsitarians also interest me, after being so inactive in foreign affairs of late”

“I rammed those messages to Crontor and Malsitar so hard that there elders probably felt it in there bones. And I made sure I used that new, security program that nerds cooked up in ONIA. Those geeks assured me that the likelihood of cracking those messages was about as likely as ripping off a crotch clamp with your bare hands from some dumb bitch idiotic enough to get one.” [Foreign] ever understood why someone would abstain from the carnal delights, but there were plenty of fools on this planet as far as he was concerned “but personally, I think a better analogy would be that the chances of cracking that security system is as likely as one of those whizzkids getting to play with a wet one, if you know what I mean” [Foreign] had a good laugh at that. Toa noticed that his Defence Minister grimaced. [Defence] had been a professional back in his younger days, and had little time for people who didn't take his job as seriously as he did.

“Anyway, the responses from the Crontorians and Malsitarians was positive, as I expected. We don't have any guarantees, but they want [SRC Delegate] to meet up with Cranico, there delegate, after the offical SRC meeting is finished. There we will be able to dicuss the matter in further detail”

Toa mused over those details for a few brief moments “So, [SRC Delegate] is on his way to the meeting, have you informed him of our position on the Tiamian Civil War? I hope he has a clear understanding of what our position is”

“Trust me, [SRC Delegate] has been given enough briefings and reports to last a man a lifetime and a half. He is an old school professional who has more than enough experience to get our message across without putting to many noses out of joint” [Foreign] looked over some of his, as per usual, messy, unordered reports and other materials. In comparison to [Defence] whose edge you could measure with a ruler. From there glancing, it appears that his wife had written him a note to actually get the groceries unlike the last time. Toa smiled. “He has never been in an ambassadorial position before, though he has been Deputy Director of the Embassy all over the world, and they do most of the real work in an embassy”

Toa Onekawa turned his gaze to his Minister of Defence “With the diplomatic material out of the way, what do you have to report to me [Defence], how many guns and bullets can we give to rebellions, and hopefully this will be enough to push the Kylarntians out of Tiami”

“So far, we can supply those Tiamians with more than enough weapons to support there rebellion, and hopefully push out the Kylarntians” Defence picked up one of his reports 'The trouble with supplying adequately is not how much material we can ship them, but how we get it o them. If Malsitar lets us move supples over the border, it is going to be a hell of a mission. That mountain range is formidable, and all the common ways will, if they Kylarntian Commander has any sense, have been mined and have forces ready to ambush any convoy. From satellite imagery we can't see any secret passes, this is actually a positive, if we have found one by satellite’s, than the enemy is going to have known about it long before. We have to hope the Malsitarians known some secret path”

[Defence] found another report he had to spend a few moments looking for “The situation won't get to much easier if the rebels capture a port. The Tiamian and Kylarntians can easily keep them blocked in, and bombard the shit out of port facilites and the like. The only way we can get ships to transport materials directly to Tiami is either to intervene directly, or hope that the rebels have connections within there naval command structure and handicapp the blockade. The chance of that isn't high”

“I don't want to risk showing our hand yet [Defence]. If we have to intervene directly, I only want to do it if absolutely necessary, and then only with the help of a few other powers. The chance of beating is Kylarntia in a one-vs-one is about 50/50, depending on how we look at it.”

“Understood Majesty. In terms of actual materials to supply them, we have more than necessary. The first thing we need to be supplying the rebels are the basics, ammunition, small arms, food, medical supplies and the like. When supplying rebels, the basics are going to be key. Guns can't do much with ammunition, and people need to eat. If we have perfect conditions in crossing the border with no ambushes, and these figures are highly dependent on the conditions of the supply path, losses and they like, we can move about 46,000 tonnes worth of food, 38,000 tonnes of oil, 22,000 tonnes worth of muntions, 1,700 tonnes of medical supplies and about 72,000 L85A2 Assault Rifles within the first three months of operations. After that we can start supplying them with heavier gear”

Again, the Defence Minister squizzed at his notes “By the third month, we can offer them about 1,100 105mm, and some 300 155mm towed artillery. Throw in 1,300 LAV III, 400 Challenger 2 main battle tanks and an increase of food supplies to 367,000 tonnes worth of foodstuffs, 251,000 tonnes of oil, 235,000 tonnes of munitions, 15,000 tonnes of medical supplies and 447,000 L85A2 Assault Rifles plus other assorted small arms after than each month, and then we keep it steady. Other figures are being drawn up, but those are the main ones. Of course this is under perfect conditions, but it gives you an idea of how much we can back them”

“These numbers are very impressive, and these are entirely from our stored supplies?” The Māori King asked

“Sure is. We have tens of millions of L85A2 rifles, and tens of thousands of AFV's and other vehicles stored. This stuff is out f date, and was going to be scrapped soon, but now they are going to be put to good use”

“Excellent news. [Foreign] tell Crontor we will discuss our terms then, same with Malsitar. [Defence] keep those figures rolling in and start firming up those estimates”

Both men left the room. His Tribal Majesty Māori King Toa Onekawa smiled.

[Crontor]

Sondria;
Alkharanian Republic of Tiami;
Citadel;
Union Embassy:

The staff at the Crontorian Embassy was nervous, as were their Lusitanian counterparts. The two diplomatic complexes sat right next to one another, and where a wall had at one point been, it had been knocked down to connect the two. The embassy was now simply the Union embassy, with two parts, both of those parts acting as if they were under siege.

On the rooftops of each embassy, Crontorian Diplomatic Security agents patrolled, keeping watch on the activity going on immediately outside of the complexes walls. With rebellions always brought chaos, and with chaos came a general disregard for rules. Rules such as not attacking embassies were sometimes ignored. If an attack did come, they had very little in means of defending. The heaviest weapons in the embassy were light machine guns; with a multitude of Echeron Assault Rifles and other rifles while the only vehicles were armored SUV’s which were not armed.

Ambassador Eric Scardelli, the official Crontorian representative to Tiami, looked nervously out of the windows in his corner office on the top floor of the four story complex. The blinds had been closed, and he peered out a small crack he had created with his fingers. There was little activity from what he could see, although the occasional gunshot caused him to wince.

“Pretty quiet out there,” said a voice from the doorway. Scardelli turned to see four people entering his office, dressed in what appeared to be civilian wear. Two men and two women took the seats in front of his desk, casually checking their smart phones or adjusting their clothes upon sitting. Scardelli smiled at the group, and then proceeded to sit down at his own desk, facing the four.

“Nice office you got here,” said one of the women, a tall redhead with shoulder length hair. She was wearing a pair of jeans and loose top, complete with a ball cap. She took a few seconds to look around, “we usually don’t come up here, because we are confined to the basement mostly.”

“Well then, Agent Sarah Clement, I should have your team up for tea sometime. I wish I was only offering you tea today, but I’m sure you already know why you are here.”

“Yes, we got the information this morning, direct from the Supreme Commander,” answered a burly blonde man, wearing dark sunglasses, a t-shirt and cargo pants. The other two, a shorter brunette woman in a sundress and a lanky dark haired man in a collared shirt and cargo pants simply nodded.

“Well, yes, you have been assigned a mission by Vienna,” explained Scardelli, “and I know you have been briefed, but I figured I might as well meet with you before you go.”

The four member Crontorian Foreign Intelligence team sat and listened as Scardelli gave them some tips on how to deal with the nation. He had been here far longer than they had, and therefore had more intelligence to give. The four shifted in their chairs uneasily, as he began to give a long oral history of the conflicts between the Mighty Islands and Tiami. Suddenly, Agent Clement’s phone rang, causing Scardelli to stop, and her to answer her phone, after a few seconds on the phone, she stood up and turned to her teammates.

“Well, thanks for the assistance Ambassador, but that was our command downstairs. They need us to get ready to head out.”

“No problem, come back any time,” he called as they exited and headed to the elevators.

“Let me guess,” said the burly man, Agent Carl Mordi, “that wasn’t command at all.”

“Of course not,” answered Clement flashing him a flirty smile, “Agent Samuel Martins here called me.”

“He only called because I kicked him,” interjected the other female, Agent Alyssa Donnark, as the elevator reached basement level “now let’s get a move on before the Ambassador finds out downstairs didn’t call us.”

The four entered the parking area, which was the basement area, and headed to a door on the other side. Entering through the door, they came across a smaller room with yet another door, this one locked and requiring a swipe of their national identification card. Every citizen in the Imperial Federation had one, and if one had a certain position or job, they could have the Ministry of Human Services reconfigure their card after their clearance had been approved by both the Ministry of Defense and Intelligence. These four had their coded to allow access to CFI facilities, but the card only activated a retina scanner, which promptly emerged from a false section of the wall to allow them all access.

When all were given clearance, they entered into a much larger room that did not exist as far as the building plans were concerned. It was lined with computers, monitors, and display tables, all showing some form of activity. About half a dozen persons sat at scattered monitors or were at one wall where there was a series of lockers and a rack of rifles and other equipment. All four made their way to that wall and opened their own lockers while the commander of CFI operations in Tiamai, Special Agent Timothy Crell made his way over from the center of the room.

“Alright, agents, now that everyone is accounted for. As you know, you will be making contact with rebel elements present in this country, and negotiating for their cooperation with the Imperial Federation. Now, remember, there is a war going on, and that is why you are dressed as tourists. Your identifications and passports are valid, and indicate you all as working in a variety of fields. I suggest you do a little reading in the car. Speaking of which,” finished Crell, reaching into another locker and pulling out a series of bright yellow suits.

“Yes, these are modified hazmat suits. Considering you are going out through the sewers, I figured that it would be better not to get your equipment and selves wet. There are no helmets though; you are being given night vision goggles and respirators, mostly because we don’t know what type of shit is down there. I don’t know if these will help with the smell though…anyway. Agent Clement, you are team leader for this mission, you have all been given Glock pistols, which should remain hidden. Agents Martin and Donnark were both given Echeron A4 Assault Rifles, and Agent Mordi was given an Mk14 EBR. Let me say this again, these weapons are to stay hidden in the hidden compartment of your vehicle. I doubt you will need them.”

“Well then, everyone mount up. You have $25,000 dollars worth of Tiamian Daishus on your ID cards, which as you know, can be used like credit cards. I expect to have some change left over.”

Half an hour later, all four were ready to go. Each had what appeared to be a simple civilian backpack, which was actually filled to the brim with equipment ranging from a few packs of C-4, to extra ammunition, silencers, a small laptop, travel papers, guide books, road maps, batteries and charging equipment for electronics, small cameras, grenades of all types, laser pointers, bottles of water, cameras, binoculars, and some other miscellaneous equipment.

They made their way down another level to the sub-basement, where the entrance to the sewers was located, having been cut out earlier in the day. The embassy was not only connected to, but partly sitting on a large sewer line, giving the four easy access to the sewers. Clement was first, followed by Martins who had a map of the sewers, followed by Donnark and then Mordi. They tried to make their way through the sewers quietly, using only their night vision goggles to navigate the dark and Martins hushed directions. Overall, it was going to be a long, smelly journey.

[New Lusitaniagrad]

Sondria,
Luso-Cron Union,
Lusitanian Impireacht,
Capital City of Portmor,
The Federal Manor;

Amongst the grey time-worn cathedrals, mansions, and the walls of the Imperial Complex that dominated the city scape of Potmor, stood a newly completed building. Carved from limestone, the large square building and its massive columns stood merely a stone’s throw from the Federal Parliament Building, and a short drive to the Imperial Complex.

Atop the building sat a large dome surrounded by four life sized golden statues at the corners of the building’s roof. The shining statues of the Patriarchs of the Party, Lord Wolfram the Monarchist, Cardinal Stefan Griffin the Clergyman, Professor James Conrad the Capitalist Intellectual, and General Anthony Oliveira the Fascist stood, however, not facing outward, but inward towards the dome.

Prime Minister Hunter could feel their gaze on him from all angles coming in though the massive bullet resistant windows, that also allowed him one of the most beautiful views of Portmor. Following the major reforms that he conducted in the aftermath of the Prince’s Plague War, Hunter thought that a new residence would be needed for the new position of Prime Minister, now that the Chancellery had been removed. Hunter designed part of the Federal Manor, and had wanted the statues facing inward, so that future Prime Ministers would always feel watched and moved by the Patriarchs.


Inside the Executive Office at the top of the dome, Hunter sat patiently at his large round table for his guests to make the trek though security, while he admired his work with the statues. Yet, they could not compare with the reforms that he had made. As he promised to God during the Siege, he had rid His Majesty’s Defense Forces of the inept noble officers. Parliament had also been streamlined, and management of domestic security matters were wrenched away from the SS, and given to the new Bureau of Investigation, which was under the direct control of the Prime Minister, unlike the SS, which answered to the Emperor.


Hunter heard footsteps clapping against the limestone on the floor below him signaling that the entourage had arrived from the elevators and would soon make their way up the spiral staircase to the Executive Office. Hunter looked down at the papers in front of him, noticed that the file was not perfectly angled towards him, and compulsively readjusted it before the first people began to arrive.

Sitting down at the round table his staff, a collection of expensive suits and well-pressed uniforms, met him with a non-unanimous “Good Morning, Mr. Prime Minister.”

“Good Morning gentlemen, and welcome to the Federal Manor. I believe that we meet here today to discuss two manners of some importance.” Replied Hunter with his hands laid flat on the massive wooden table, which had been polished to Hunters strict standards.

“That is true, Mr. Prime Minister.” Replied Deputy Minister Abraham McLaren, a young man with high cheekbones in pinstriped suit similar to Hunter’s. “The two matters at hand both pertain to the internal politics of other nations. The first, being the outbreak of an insurrection in the Alkharanian Republic of Tiami, which has prompted a backlash by their overlord, Caesar Silvier.”

“Yes, yes I believe that SS Marshal Farnell forwarded me a description of Miss Silvier and her country’s relation to Tami.” Said Hunter

The aging Grand Marshal of His Majesty’s Special Service who sat to the far left of the table in a black uniform nodded in acknowledgement.

“I assume that there will be a Regional Council meeting soon. Send our Councilor, Ivan Magnus, to the appropriate place, Minister O’Gregor.”

“He is already in Vienna and on the way to Gavin Cranico's office in Crontor, where they will discuss the matter and proceed forward with our advisement.” Replied the Foreign Minister.

“Capital. Now, how did this insurrection come about?” Continued the Prime Minister.

“From our embassy staff and SS assets in the country, we have learned that there is currently a group o’ armed rebels, who have recently become even more heavily armed now that they have taken to smashing into supply depots, who wish to see Tami as an independent nation.” Said Grand Marshal Farnell. “I suggest that we move our assets to become friendly with the rebels--”

“And then crush them from within.” Interjected Oliver Meyer, the Director of the newly created Bureau of Investigations.

Composed, but visibly angered by the outburst from the Director, Farnell replied “ This is a foreign matter and falls under the jurisdiction of the Special Service, not the Bureau of Investigations.”

“I was stating my opinion, which the Prime Minister may act upon and which is that: instead of aiding the rebels to the point where they win, we help them to the point that they trust us. We then proceed to eliminate their heads, and deliver them to the Tamians. Not only would they be grateful for our removing the threat to the ruling regime, but the ruling regime may well become our friends.”

“And do ya understand, Mr. Meyer, that the Tamians are controlled by the Kylartians? Who happen to be our enemies?” Replied the Grand Marshal

“Yes, and when we make friends of our enemies, do we not defeat the enemy?” The Director smiled.

“The Director is correct, Grand Marshal.” Replied the Prime Minister “However, for the time being let us arm them. If we see that the Tamians and or their overlords do not wish to become our friends, they we shall arm them to their victory. In the meantime send them our condolences. I am curious to see how they respond.”

“I prefer the latter option, Mr. Prime Minister but none the less I shall follow your orders.” Replied the Grand Marshal.

“Very good.” Said the Deputy Minister “Now the second matter at hand is much closer to home. You are aware of Miss Lisa Whuren of Crontor?”

“Yes, the new President of Crontor, I have yet to personally speak to her but Commander Rockpeller is not fond of her, if Grand Marshal Farnell has informed me correctly.” Replied Hunter

Sitting back in his chair, the Grand Marshal grunted in acknowledgment. Supreme Commander Rockpeller and he were good friends, and the Grand Marshal was none to fond of Miss Whuren either. Then again, Farnell was never too fond of women in any position of power.

“We are aware of the fact that she has a… favorable view of the Kylarnatians, as we have been monitoring her speeches and press releases.” Said Director Meyer. “However, I personally believe that she is more than an advocate for peace as I am, sir. I believe that she may have dealings with…unsavory non-union characters. If I could have permission to have her watched, I believe that it is within my jurisdiction as she dwells in Union territory.”

The Prime Minister stared at his folded hands for a moment and then replied: “Crontor is an ally, and a member of the Union. I cannot, at this time support any use of police powers to monitor one of their citizens. However, I will speak to the Supreme Commander, who has always been a good friend of the Impireacht, the next time I have a chance, and will keep you posted, Mr. Director.”

“Of course Mr. Prime Minister.” Replied Director Meyer with a bowed head.

“Therefore, after considering the information presented by you all, my advisers, I will put the following into action. First, Grand Marshal, you will prepare His Majesty’s Special Service for any clandestine operations necessary to for now supply and possibly later infiltrate the rebels in Tami. Tell the Defense Council to move our Naval assets patrolling around Dunbar Island to embark on patrols in the sea between the Union and Tami. However, do not go near their territorial waters, just extend the range deeper into international waters. Mr. O’Gregor, you are to inform the leaders of Tami of our condolences and to offer any help if need be. Furthermore, you are to inform me of Mr. Mangnus’ meeting with his Crontorian counterpart.”

“One last thing, Mr. Prime Minister, if I may.” Interjected O’Gregor, the Foreign Minister.

“Yes, High Minister?”

“What of our embassy in Tami? No one has tried anything yet, but I was wondering if you wanted anything done with it.”

“Have we any assets in that embassy?” Inquired the Prime Minster

“The usual SS infantry detachment, along with all of the goodies they always bring and more recently three Bureau of Investigations officers. Since the creation of the Bureau, it’s Foreign Intelligence Division has begun to deposit units in most of our embassies.”

At that, Director Meyer smiled and Grand Marshal Farnell began to tap his fingers on the table angrily.

“Have them all on the lookout for trouble and ready to go if need be.” Replied the Prime Minister. “Now is that everything?”

A chorus of “aye’s” echoed in the dome.

“Very well, I shall inform His Majesty of the current developments during our usual afternoon tea. The rest of you get on producing results.”

Another chorus of “aye’s, and yes sir’s” as the advisers flowed out of the Dome.

To: Lady Marisike of The Republic of Tami
From: Prime Minister Hunter of The Lusitanian Impireacht

My dear Lady,

It is with sadness that I learned today of the insurrection in your nation. I tremble at the thought of Tamians spilling the blood of their countrymen as I tremble at the thought of anyone shedding blood, for I have seen the horrors of war during the sieges of the Plague War.

However, I am saddened more at the iron fist of Kylarnatians, which will surely befall upon you and your beloved people because of this insurrection.

Be assured that the Impireacht and I will be at your personal disposal should you so require our help in any way possible, so that you and your people are spared the wrath of the Kylarnatians.

May God be with you,

Sir William Hunter, Prime Minister of the Lusitanian Impireacht

[Crontor]

Sondria;
Alkharanian Republic of Tiami;
Citadel;
Union Embassy:

The four agents; Clement, Martin, Mordi, and Donnark, made good time as they traversed the maze of pipes and sewers, constantly checking the map Martin held to make sure they were heading in the correct direction. The respirators did a good job of keeping out any toxins, and most of the smells, but even then, all of the agents found themselves growing tired of the foul odors and scenery. Their night vision goggles worked perfectly, picking up the slightest light from the outside and allowing them to see through the darkness.

Luckily, they did not come across any persons, although Clement almost shot a few rats. They seemed to be the only thing living down here. Even so, they were extra careful around drain pipes and other openings that exposed the sewers to the outside world. They heard the occasional gunfire from above, but nothing to indicate an all out war had broken out.

They knew though, that there were major operations being conducted in the western parts of the country. Satellites showed that there were massive troop movements, most likely heading for the city of Martin on the western coast. If the rebels wanted to have a chance of getting supplies, they had to capture part of the coast. A port would put them in an even better position, which is most likely why they were aiming to capture Martin.

Also traveling along with the Crontorian agents were three agents of the Lusitanian Bureau of Intelligence. The Crontorians had met them previously, as they operated out of the Lusitanian embassy. The three; Special Agent Hamilton, Special Agent Watson, and Special Agent Owen, were dressed as missionaries. Hamilton, the head, was the priest, and the other two deacons. They also wore the suits and respirators provided by the CFI, which were almost necessary in this environment. They also had Remington Shotguns and an MP7, which were sure to come in handy.

They spent about four hours in the sewers, keeping a good pace, when they stopped for a rest at a large meeting of sewer lines. After a half an hour resting and idle chatter, the moved on again, traveling for another five hours until they came to a large drainpipe that led out the side of a highway. After removing the grate with some plastic explosives, the seven operatives checked their surroundings before taking off their respirators and hazmat suits and burying them off the side of the highway. They then continued, through the growing darkness, to the area their commanders had indicated the local CFI cell had left their vehicles.

The keys to both vehicles, a black Jeep and a dark blue SUV were left in a box tucked under the SUV. It was locked, and Clement was able to open it with the key given to her. The cars themselves were in a suburban area, which seemed to have not experienced the lockdown of the rest of Citadel. The seven had no problem stowing their equipment in their vehicles and departing, heading west through the rural roads which were hopefully sparsely guarded.

[Aquilinia]

Outside the Imperial Aquilinian Embassy to the Imperial Federation of Crontor
Vienna, The Imperial Federation of Crontor

It was a clear night in Vienna, with few clouds in the sky, and a clear view of the stars. Renvari loved nights like this one. He had been born in such a night, he had met his first love in such a night - and he would achieve the most important feat of his life in such a night. This night. He smiled to himself as he looked down the road, waiting for the Crontorian SUVs that were to pick him up. For the past five years, Renvari had been living in Crontor, running a small store selling delicacies from his home, Sylvaria, as well as some more remote corners of the Aquilinian Empire. But that had only been his cover. In reality, he was a sleeper agent of the Nightmare Court. Or, rather, he had been a sleeper agent. Now, he had finally received the order to act. He was to meet with Supreme Commander Rockepeller and negotiate co-operation between the Court and the Crontorian government in liberating the people of Tiami from their Kylarnatian overlords.

Renvari pulled back the sleeve of his long, hooded black robe to have a look at his watch. Sixteen minutes past midnight. The Crontorians were late. But then a light drew his attention, and he saw the two black SUVs coming down the road and stopping where he stood. He smiled again, and, as instructed, knocked twice at the passenger door on the right hand side of the car - he never understood why the Crontorians kept that silly habit of driving on the wrong side of the road - and got in. "Take me to your Supreme Commander. I have been ordered to speak to him, and him alone," he said to the driver, his voice not much more than a whisper.


Cruiser HIMAS Renown
Bismarck Naval Base
Bismarck, The Imperial Overseas Territory of the Union of Bismarck and the Sondrian Islands

Captain Lucas May was awed as his new ship entered the rebuilt base. The city of Bismarck had been devastated by the Plague War - not because of the war itself, but because of the unrest and rioting in the city once the virus started spreading. But even though the war had only ended six months ago, the city and its naval base were as bustling as if nothing had ever happened. Only two weeks ago, May had been transferred to Renown, one of six Lyran Battleaxe-class cruisers in service with the Imperial Navy. A good ship, with a very capable crew. Nevertheless, May was hit by nostalgia as the ship passed HIMAS Python, a Viper-class destroyer, just like his old command, Yarara, had been.

May and the crew of Renown been en route to a training exercise near Sylvaria, when they were suddenly recalled to port. Apparently, a fleet was being gathered to intervene in Tiami, should this be necessary. The crisis came at a notably unsuitable moment. The flagship of the Imperial Navy, Longsword-class HIMAS Empire, was currently undergoing a major refit of its crew quarters and secondary systems, while the new Dreadfire-class HIMAS Felicia was still not fully operational, as the training of the crew would not be fully completed until the end of the month. Making the situation worse, the Imperial Naval Air Wing was in process of replacing its aircraft inventory - while delivery of the new aircraft as well as pilot training had already begun, it would take at least another three weeks for the first squadrons to become fully operational.

May sighed as he watched one of the new fighters lift off from the deck of the carrier HIMAS Phoenix, just to circle around the base twice and land again. Or, rather, attempt to land, as the pilot clearly overshot his mark and had to pull up again for another try. At least he had managed to not damage the fighter. The captain shook his head. In this state, he feared the worst for the Imperial Navy. And as if to confirm his doubts, the unlucky fighter pilot overshot once again, this time narrowly avoiding crashing into the bay.

[Crontor]

Sondria;
Luso-Cron Union;
Imperial Federation of Crontor;
Columbia Province;
Vienna:

As the representative of the organization whom wanted to meet Rockepeller stepped into the car, they would have found it quite crowded. Occupying the driver and passenger seat were two dark suited individuals with dark glasses, who neither looked nor spoke to Renvari. Sitting beside him was another agent, whose Glock pistol was in plain view. Behind Renvari were two more agents in the far back seats, also brandishing Glock pistols.

The car was dark, illuminated only by the dashboard lights, the tinted windows letting in little light. As the agent in the seat next to him leveled his pistol, Renvari was handed a dark cloth, unable to be seen through.

“Put it on,” said the agent in a monotone voice, cocking the pistol.

Once they were satisfied, the car began moving, the agents taking a particularly lengthy and confusing way through the city, to make sure Renvari could not follow the agents to their base of operations. After about thirty minutes of driving though, the car stopped, and the opening and shutting of doors could be heard. The door on Renvari’s side was opened, and he was dragged out, and pushed onto a wheelchair.

“Cooperate or we will have to dispose of you,” said the monotone voice once again.

Renvari was lead to a series of security checks, first passing through a full body scanner, still blindfolded, then patted down, and then through two more body scanners, before he was led up out of the chair and his hands were bound behind his back. He was then led to an interrogation room, where he was placed in a chair and the blindfold removed from his head. Sitting before him with a stack of papers was the Supreme Commander.

“Well hello there,” Rockepeller began, “this better be important.”

[Aquilinia]

Unknown Location
Vienna, The Imperial Federation of Crontor

Renvari threw back the black hood of his robe, revealing a catlike face with tilted, bright red eyes and skin as white as a cherry blossom that contrasted with his hair of the texture and colour of dead leaves. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Good evening, Supreme Commander." He took a breath, and pulled a flash drive from a pocket in his robe. "This might be of some interest to you. It contains files about various Aquilinian operations, in Sylvaria, Beblis, all over the place. It identifies deep-cover agents, spies, all that you might want to know. And it also contains all the data the Empire has about your own operations."

The sylvari laughed and returned the flash drive to his pocket. "But we will speak about that later. First, we need to discuss Tiami. We have of course heard that you intend to support the anti-Kylarnatian rebels. And we have the same intention. We will not further discuss our reasons, but know this - we are on your side here, and we will support you and the rebels to our best ability. We will provide training, operatives, and generally background support. We will work from the shadows." He looked at Rockepeller. "You probably have some questions?"

[Crontor]

Sondria;
Luso-Cron Union;
Imperial Federation of Crontor;
Columbia Province;
Vienna:

Rockepeller was silent as he studied the...thing in front of him. He was intrigued to say the least, by the catlike features of the figure, specifically his eyes and skin tone. He was aware of course, that many species resided within the Aquilinian Empire, but rarely had he seen any. Not in Crontor at least, that was for sure.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," began Rockepeller, "I do have a few questions I wish to ask you. First off, who are you, what are you, and who exactly do you represent. You must realize, we do not ally ourselves with just anyone. Do tell us a little bit about your...well...organization, we are interested."

"I am also curious as to why you think we would need your support in terms of training, operatives, and support. Do you think us incapable of providing these ourselves? Let me assure you, resources are not a problem. The Union is a regional superpower, and our capabilities are far reaching. One last thing, that flash drive of yours, how can we know that you are carrying authentic information, and at what cost will you hand it over?"

Rockepeller was looking forward to the answers from this fellow, well aware that this conversation was being recorded from multiple cameras arrayed around the dark corners of the interrogation room. If anything said turned out to be in any way useful, it could be used as a bargaining chip with the Aquilinians, whom might want information about this fellow, as Rockepeller already suspected this group and the nation had some connection, and most likely not a good one, considering that they were seeking to ally with Crontor.

As these theories formulated in his head, Rockepeller sat waiting for a response.

[Onekawa-Nukanor]

---

Region: Sondria
Nation: N/A
Coordinates: N/A
Specific Location: 16,000ft up. Heading towards Gerrivica

---

It was night outside. There were few clouds about, so they sky was clear, and one could see the stars clearly tonight. The men on-board the small business jet however, was not particularly interested in the night, except for the fact that the night made their job slightly easier. Although the growing number of NVG issued to normal combat troops was having an effect on how useful hiding in the nights shadows was, it was still, for people inserting into a country in civil war, a blessing. The fact that the moon was still shining bright was not appreciated by the men on-board, despite how some love-struck couples might think.

There were a total of five men on the aircraft. Two were currently checking the equipment they planned to be inserting with, and making sure everything was jump-capable. Another two were checking the series of papers and data that was more important than the lives of the men. These are the documents that promised the support of Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor to the rebels cause, and were signed by His Tribal Majesty The Māori King Toa Onekawa himself. If these documents fell into enemy hands, then the whole situation would unravel, and then not only would the rebels not receive the support they desired unless Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor was willing to openly defy the Kylarnatian Empire, but then an international scandal would take place, and Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor would lose mana. That was unacceptable.

The final man was to be the commander of this small squad of men. He was currently going over the plan for this operation, where they planned to drop, and who they were to contact in country. Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor had very few contacts in country, and this made the a difficult job significantly harder. The only worthwhile contact was someone being able to supply a 4WD vehicle. That would have to do. They did have leads onto possible men to contact to get in touch with the rebel leadership, but that was going to have to do.

The odd thing about these men was that they weren't all part of the same organisation, rather two separate groups that did, however, often work together. Three of the men, all of them no less than 189cm, were part of the famous and celebrated Onekawa-Nukanor Paratrooper Corps (ONPC). These men were part of the fighting elite of the Onekawa-Nukanor Defence Force, and only the best of the best of best were allowed to join. These men were usually tasked with the most secretive of jobs and to perform them with absolute precision. Part elite light infantry and part special forces, these men were also incredibly versatile. But the things that marked out the ONPC was there lethality, and capability. It would not be unreasonable to suggest that these men were the most elite fighting force in all of Sondria, and amongst the very best in the world.

The other two men were small in comparison. Both were of average height, and of average looks. They were also proficient in 13 separate languages between them. These men were part of the very dark, very shadowy Onekawa-Nukanor Intelligence Agency (ONIA). These men were Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanors eyes and ears overseas. The data collectors and analysers. Most intel that Ngāti Onekawa-Nukanor got a hold was from men like these two. There were tasked with not only infiltrating other countries, but with staying in there respective countries for potentially decades. Very few even knew how many men where in the ONIA, even less knew where such men were based.

The men weren't talking to each except in low, muffled voices. The team leader was one of the ONPC men, and his revision of the plan (for the sixth time) was now complete. The plan was risky, but clever, and was the only real viable way to enter the country. With Tiami in lockdown across its national borders, then crossing from either Malsitar or Gerrivica was very risky. Normal para drops were also a no-go, the aircraft willing to do that would be shot down before it had barely gotten 10km in country, would be a good day if they could get 15km. Going by submersible was also risky, and had a long delay. Therefore this plan had been thought up.

A business man, going through bad times financially, was travelling to Gerrivica to try and find investors. Of course this man didn't exist, neither did his business. This small plane registered under his name was old, and was planned to be scrapped, and seemed like the perfect choice for this operation. Before this plan reached its destination, which was surprising close to the border, a 'malfunction; would take place. Rather the auto-pilot would simulate a problem, and plead with a Tiamian airfield to let it land, as the malfunction oddly enough meant it couldn't turn around back towards its destination and needed to land in Tiami. While the planes pre-recorded 'may-day' blared to hopefully confused ground controllers, the men would make their jump if the made hopefully 25km in country. After they jumped the plane would self-destruct with a non-to-conservative amount of explosive, and destroy and evidence possibly left on the plane. The black box was also rigged up to its own amount of explosive, to make sure it wasn't of any use to anyone.

3 hour later

The Leader, codenamed 'Hokioi', checked his watch. The other men were getting the last possible sleep they could, but it was time. These men opened their eyes without complaint, and started strapping on their equipment and parachutes. The paratroopers joked around and jostled one another. Despite their grim, and dark, missions they were still Māori soldiers, and if anything that Māori soldiers were famous for that did not relate to combat, it was there wily sense of humour and fun. The agents from ONIA were silent, and were blank faced. The men were tugging there final straps when the 'accident' occurred. The plane started to veer towards the Tiamian borders, and the mayday message starting relaying its content to ground control. They were being answered, but it appeared that Tiamian ground control was not at the top of its game.

The men checked their equipment, and picked up 'clips' for their Model 10 SMGs. Favoured for such missions by the ONPC and ONIA alike, it was a versatile weapon more akin to a light assault rifle than an SMG. It was powerful, capable and suited for such operations. If they needed anything heavier than the mission was over anyway. Perhaps it best feature was its portability and ability to be concealed, easily hid in a school bag if need be. The plane dropped and the men where nearly thrown to the floor. 'Hokioi' checked their distance in country, it was time to jump. He nodded to the ONIA agent to open the door.

Cold air came billowing in and the temperature dropped. The men each jumped out, the team leader making sure they each did it successfully. He then jumped himself. After were seconds the plane above him blew and lighted up the night sky. He didn't look back.

[New Lusitaniagrad]

Sondria;
Alkharanian Republic of Tiami;
Province Unknown;
Rural Motorways:

Carefully kept just under the speed limit, the two dark SUVs traversed the rural back roads. The Lusitanians drove a few miles in front of the Crontorians, to be safe. It might have looked suspicious if the two groups were seen together, especially given the ecclesiastical disguises of the Lusitanians; their Union brothers were not known for their religiousness. However, it made no difference to the members of the Bureau of Intelligence, to serve the Impireacht and by extension, the Union, was to serve God himself. Or at least that was what they were all taught in primary school and the mandatory summer youth camps.

Special Agent Owen, who was similar in features, and skin tone (dark hair, very white, as most Lusitanians) to Special Agent Watson, was behind the wheel of the Lusitanian vehicle. Both wore the dark three-piece suits that Lusitanians were so fond of, and large silver crosses around their necks. Behind them in the far right seat of the Jeep, sat an older gentleman with greying hair; his blue eyes perusing a green hardcover bible similar to the ones in the back of the jeep. Special Agent Hamilton was dressed in a more casual black suit and priest’s collar.

“Road block up ahead. Loyalist forces.” Said Agent Owen, informing the rest of the BI team in the Jeep.

Grasping the Walter PPK in his lap concealed by the Bible, Hamilton looked up and said; “Inform the Crontorians, and find a way past it. If they check us thoroughly, we’re sure to be locked up.”

“Or shot.” Muttered Watson steadying the MP7 between his feet on the floor of the Jeep, while he examined a map on his computerized tablet.

“O ye of little faith. Why must you always be the pessimist, Watson?” Replied Owen.

“Make a right here,” signaled Watson with one hand “and I prefer to be called a realist.” Agent Watson then removed a cell phone from his pocket to inform the Crontorians, a few miles behind them, that they too would have to avoid the roadblock.

“That can be countered with faith, Agent Watson.” Said Agent Hamilton from the back of the car.

“The pessimism or the realism, Father Hamilton?” Laughed Agent Owen as he sped up the Jeep a bit.

“Both my son. Anything can be accomplished with great faith” Replied Agent Hamilton.

Watson thought of countering with the fact that Hamilton wasn’t an ordained priest, but decided against it. The old bastard was extremely religious, even by Lusitanian standards.

Watson’s mind began to wander to the Bibles in the back of the Jeep. The top tomes were normal old-fashioned King James Version Bibles with black covers. However, the Bibles to the bottom of the crates were hollowed out and filled with enough unmarked gold ingots to convert even the most heathen person to the faith of the Holy Mother Church; or, at least to the Empire, which, as far as the Bureau was concerned, was the same thing.

“I think we’ve found our man, sir” Said Owen slowing over to the side of the road where a rebel soldier stood near the brush.

[Aquilinia]

Unknown Location
Vienna, The Imperial Federation of Crontor

Renvari smiled. "Oh, forgive my manners. I forgot to introduce myself. Who am I, you ask? My name is Renvari. Renvari Fi'Alain. Note that this is not a surname as you use it, but merely a patronymic to distinguish myself from other people named Renvari. Not that I've ever met one. So, just call me Renvari."

He paused before he continued. "What am I, you ask? I am sylvari. I am sure you have encountered my kind before. If you're wondering about my appearance - there are humans in different colours, white as you call it, black, all shades of brown - and it is just the same with us. There are sylvari as dark as the blackest humans, and thee are those as pale as myself. And then there are the green ones, and the grey ones...too many to list. We are, literally, a colourful people."

He leaned forward and thought for a moment before answering the last question. "Who do I represent? I am of the Nightmare Court. To know the Nightmare Court, you need to learn about some of our history." His eyes gleamed as he began his tale of the struggle of the sylvari. "Legends tell us, that the first of our civilization, the Firstborn, were born of the Pale Tree, a tree which to this day stands at the centre of the holiest site for all our people. No outsider has ever set foot in the Grove, let alone seen the Tree. For centuries, the sylvari lived in peace, following the guidance and the teachings of the Firstborn. But when Lannath, the last of the Firstborn, died - according to legend, he died on the first day of the one-thousandth year of his life - this guidance was lost. Soon, there was disagreement over all sorts of things, beginning with religion and what would nowadays be called politics to basic things such as what should be eaten. Within a century, the sylvari had split into four groups, named after the times of day - the Cycle of Morning, of Day, of Dusk and of Night. The Four Cycles moved apart from each other, and each developed differently."

Renvari reached into his robe and took out an amulet in the shape of a crescent moon. "Although the Four Cycles are united under the banner of Sylvaria, they still hold some cultural meaning. This amulet identifies me as a Nightborn, a member of the Cycle of Night." He returned the amulet to his pocket. "Each Cycle formed a nation of its own, and for the first time, the sylvari learned what it meant to be at war when the Duskborn attacked the Morningborn over hunting grounds. It was a dark time for our people. But everything changed when the Dayborn, who had moved to the edge of the forest, to the coast, encountered foreign traders. The foreigners, or Seaborn as they became known, soon established relations with all four Cycles, taught us their language - French - brought us their technology and their science. And then, they united the sylvari, just to enslave us. For almost two centuries we remained slaves, until the Aquilinians arrived. They promised us freedom, destroyed the Seaborn, and made us part of their Empire."

He shook his head. "The Aquilinan freedom is a lie. Which is why the Nightmare Court was formed by those who realized the truth. We fight for the liberation of Sylvaria from all foreigners. We do not wish them any evil, but we want our freedom back."

Renvari put the flash drive back on the table. "And this information is yours if you help us."