The Napoleonic Complex (MT| TG for Entry)

by **Yalos** » Wed Jun 25, 2014 10:43 pm

Link to OOC Thread

The Ju'tozzo, Slums
Le Quartier Ancien

Rain pattered upon the streets of the ancient city of Ju’tozzo. Paved with cobble stone, cracked and split, the small roads found their every crook and crack teeming with an inundation of rainwater, as they were almost every other day of the spring. The dimly lit archaic roadways were lined by closely packed houses of cobble and lumber, anachronisms of a time long past, the nation advancing far into the modern age as these homes were left far behind. Once homes of the affluent, the wealthy and the intelligent, they had been abandoned for the grand palaces and mansions of the outer city limits. Robbed of their former glory, these homes now were merely historical settlement homes for those unable to win themselves a proper living. Teeming with filthy vagrants and the rejects of society, these homes were more likely to collapse in an explosion of blood and massive splinters, than to offer proper shelter; nevertheless, they were stuffed at almost any given time.

Far in the distance, the rumbling of a solitary tank could be heard, and the peasants of the Republic simply stared blankly into the distant lights of the outer city; to be with the shopping districts and the secluded suburbs was in their waking dreams. A single baby could be heard wailing as its mother tried, in vain, to hush it. But nothing would hush it. It was hungry, and hadn’t eaten for nearly an entire day. Neighbors angrily swore and cursed, but did nothing. Nobody had the heart, or energy to do anything to stop the noise, and the cries died off as the baby fell into a slumber of painful hunger and its tortured existence.

The tank could be heard coming closer, and the peasants did not heed it. After all, the Republican government was known for imposing martial law without warning, and many a peasant had been shot down for violating a curfew that had only been announced on televisions that the peasantry could never afford. Soon, the tank’s tracks could be heard smashing the pavement wide open as the massive armored behemoth came within sight. The stones underneath buckled and almost fell apart as the roaring machine come upon the disinterested peasant population, but there was something rather different about this tank.

Nearly half a dozen men were sitting atop the clanking machine, waving strange red and black banners; the symbols of the long collapsed imperial order of the ancient Yaliite monarchy. Cheering soldiers, with their dark green uniforms, old Kalashnikov Battle rifles and bayonets followed in a number of pickup trucks and old military vehicles, with howitzers in tow. The tank commander waved a hand at the bewildered audience as the procession roared by. The spectators were now slightly more interested, leaning through their small, paneless windows to get a better view of the proceedings. In less than a minute, the soldiers had disappeared from sight, and the peasants began to run out onto the street, pointing and shouting excitedly as they speculated about what was going on.

Ju'tozzo, Capitol District
Le Palais Congressionale

The Capitol Building was aflame by the time the tank and its escort of motorized soldiers arrived. Three Attack Copters hovered lazily above, their search lights illuminating the scene with a pillar of divine light. Tanks and Infantry had the entire building complex sealed off, their rifles and cannons loaded and prepared to fire as the tank rolled behind the Organized lines, screeching to a complete halt, careening into a trashcan which was crumpled like so much as a soda can under a car’s wheel.

A young woman climbed from the commander’s seat, grunting as she tried to pull herself out with her tiny physique. The Tank’s Gunner had to help haul her out as she fell down the side of the tank, and onto the ground. Dusting herself off, she shooed away the soldiers who had run forward to help her up, and replaced her military cap atop her crimson red hair. Her sword clanking on the ground beside her short little legs, the woman did not present a particularly inspiring or powerful figure; nevertheless, soldiers prostrated themselves as she passed by.

“My Eyuka Empress ,” a senior officer bowed deeply before his Mistress, and the short girl simply waved and yawned.

“Senyau. How does the coup go?”

“Excellently, milady. We have captured the capital building.”

“And the Prime Minister?”

“My soldiers are having him shot as we speak.”

The small girl narrowed her brows in focus as she took a few seconds to think over what her servant had just told her. Shaking her head, she flicked his forehead in anger.

“Tell them to stop, you big dummy. I want to talk to him.” She whined.

Standing nearly two feet over his protégé, Senyau nevertheless, had great respect for this woman, who claimed to be the next heiress of the traditional Yaliite Imperial Throne. A strange sight for those foreigners who would read the papers the next morning, Senyau nodded and bowed before the small girl, who looked as though she should be carrying a teddy bear, and not her traditional rapier as the cameras began to flash. The army corps of reporters had arrived, obviously, with their loud, abrasive trucks, and the Empress-to-be scowled, clearly angry at this sudden intrusion.

“Who invited them?”

Ju'tozzo, Capitol District
Minister's Office

“What is the meaning of this?” the words came out the moment the gag came off his mouth.
Former Prime Minister, Uzzekei Utobo, was a short, balding man. Still, he was taller than the Empress, even forced to his knees as he was and his white moustache, with life of its own, quivered with anger, especially at being pulled from his bed without warning by members of his own military.

“Well, hello, Prime Minister. Or shall I say, plaything ?”

“Who the hell are you?”

The Empress seemed to step from the shadows themselves, her little eyes glimmering with sadistic delight as she slapped Uzzekei across the face, loudly, as he fell aside in the shock and pain. He gasped, his eyes filled with fear as she stepped closer, her sharp little teeth shone in what little light there was.

"I am the Mistress of your military. The one you tried to undermine."

"What are you talking about?" the Minister protested silently, sniffling at the pain of being slapped.

"Cutting pensions and reducing active duty numbers was foolish of you, Minister." the girl paced back and forth before the Minister, almost hypnotically.

"I-"

"And cutting spending on protective gear and danger pay? You've been disrespecting our honorable military. And do not let me tell you how much discontent your new foreign policy has caused."

Uzzekei was mesmerized and frightened, his legs trembling as he silently whispered a question;

"Who are you?"

Grandly, she stopped pacing, turned sharply to face him, and waved her sword in his face, menacingly.“I am a vanquisher of socialism, and an enemy of Marxism. I am a friend of the Yalosii people, and foe of our enemies. I am a conqueror,a leader, a master and warlord. I am, you might say, the next Eyuka, you dummy.” She stuffed a packet of bubble gum in her mouth as Uzzekei stared at her, disbelievingly, for several moments before. . .

. . . bursting into laughter.

“Hohoho!” tears fell from his eyes. “This is amazing. What an amazing joke!”

“This isn’t funny!” she bellowed, as loudly as her adolescent vocal chords would permit.

“Eyuka! Hahaha! My little girl, we haven’t had a Eyuka for nearly a century! I actually believed you for a few moments. Now, come now, tell me, who planned this elaborate joke? Was it Mukka? The man loves a joke! Haha!”

The Short Empress simply pulled a pistol from her holster and apathetically shot the Minister in the stomach. His laughter stopped, abruptly, and was replaced with a silent whimper as the floor began to shift into malevolent red. She stepped back, as if afraid of being stained by the fat man's unclean blood as she stared upon his weak form, visually disgusted and angry that such a fool had been leading her birthright.

“I am your next Eyuka. Bow.”

The former Minister doubled over, crying.

“Close enough.”

by **Delmonte** » Thu Jun 26, 2014 12:56 am

In the cosmopolitan district of Ju'tozzo, Belitrano Di Bernardini sipped coffee over a small morning meal in his lavish penthouse. The Di Bernardinis and the Di Canossas had long been familial allies. This was how Belitrano had secured his position as Ambassador Plenipotentiary on behalf of The Most Serene Republic. Along with skill and reliability, obviously. He was not a breakfast person. According to him, it gave him indigestion to eat too much too early. According to his wife, he clearly didn't enjoy dining with her, his mother hates her, and why didn't he spend more time with the children? He shuddered and put down his coffee. He loved his wife, after a fashion, but she could be a nag. And his children were spoiled little shits. According to his communication with his wife, nobody had the nerve to beat them now that he was gone.

Belitrano had very specific views on beating children. He didn't think it was necessary for commoners' children, really, only for aristocratic and upper class children. Because, devoid of wants or needs, a good smack was really the only way to make them face reality. These ought to, therefore, be administered often and with great alacrity. He looked down at his (lightly) buttered toast. His stomach churned; he could not eat this morning. He was far too nervous. The coffee wasn't helping, but oh my God was it helping. And he hated the taste of coffee. And sugar or cream only made it worse. So he drank the liquid black.

He forced himself to take a bite of toast. Mistake. Big mistake. Don't spit it out. Do not spit it out. There are servants here and Delmontese gentlemen do not spit. The coffee helped wash it down. It seemed to take forever to go down his throat. More coffee, then it reached the tipping point and stumbled into his stomach. Great.

"Paper, sir?" A servant offered him the daily paper.

"Hah." He responded, "You're funny. As though I care about what happened yesterday."

The servant was nonplussed. "If you don't mind my asking sir, what exactly happened yesterday?"

"Precisely."

"I... sorry, sir, I'll leave you."

"Yes, do that..." then, in Delmontese, "You foreign fucking retard. Can't you understand a joke, you Goddamn idiot?"

"Sir?"

"Oh, I apologize, my dear boy. You know that I sometimes lapse into Delmontese. I... whenever I have a flashback, I- I just..." (Belitrano's servants were under the impression that he had post-traumatic stress disorder).

The servant gave a knowing smile and nodded. Belitrano continued to speak in Delmontese. "That's right, you dumbass. You have no idea what I'm saying. I shorted you on your pay last week just because I could. I'll give you a raise for every joke of mine you get, you dense moron. God, you're such a bore. Servants who get tips provide good conversation when I need it. Christ." He kept a straight face the entire time. Being an ambassador in a foreign land had its benefits; namely venting aggression on staff who couldn't understand you, and therefore quit.

Suddenly, the door bell chimed. As the servant in question went to answer it, Belitrano put his coffee down smartly and stood up, careful not to ruin the creases in his suit. As he climbed down the staircase that led to where he took his meals, he heard the commotion at the door.

"Sirs, this is most extraordinary. The master of this house is an ambassador! I should like to see your-"

"It is alright, Yuno. They are welcome here. They are..." he checked his watch, "Thirty minutes early, but they are welcome here. Tell the other servants to lock everything and go home. I will be leaving with our guests."

The two soldiers who greeted him were in parade uniform. He donned his hat and kicked in a leg on the hat stand. A tiny click was heard and a panel in the nearby wall popped open to reveal a small metal chest. Belitrano gestured for one of the soldiers to get it. He resealed the compartment and the trio left.

"Would you like your possessions to be secured, sir?" One of the soldiers asked.

"Ah, no. If everything goes well I'll still have them. If everything does not go well, I will not be able to take them with me."

"We shall not fail! We have right on our side!" One of the guards insisted, heatedly, as they embarked on the elevator.

Belitrano tutted. "If you do not fail, and I believe you shan't, it is because of your planning. Careful planning and coordination."

"And foreign aid, of course. Generously provided by the Delmontese." The more even-tempered guard added.

"Aahhh..." Belitrano said, smiling, "You're good. I can see why they sent you. You, you're going to be very important in the new regime some day. And as for you..." He looked at the other guard who was now pressing the "L" button on the panel.

"Yes?"

"You're passionate. That can take you far. But it can also get you executed. It is best, in my experience, to be dispassionate until your effort succeeds, at which point you can insist that you were passionate the whole time. And be sure and make good friends and allies who will vouch for you. Let one of your stupid enemies get shot; improve the odds for yourself. No, that's the basement. It's all very confusing, you see, the building changed owners and apparently nobody makes these kinds of elevators anymore... Yes, the button that has the one on it. Good man."

The car that awaited them was the ambassador's own, though his driver (quite flustered, though relieved to see his employer) was outside the car, accompanied by six armed soldiers, all wearing Yalosi army parade uniform. These saluted the approaching party. The ambassador and his two guards piled into the town car while the remaining six boarded a Hummer that was clearly meant to escort them. And escort them it did, all the way to Le Palais Congressionale. Once there, Belitrano and his coterie climbed the steps, all a-scurry with administrative steps, and made entrance. Making their way into the upper offices, they came in contact with a clerk.

"My friends from the Yalosi military and I demand to see the Prime Minister immediately!" He said with great finality.

"Ambassador Di Bernardini..." (looking at his name-plate) "We are delighted to welcome you to the Palais Congressionale. Given the urgency of your meeting, we would be happy to have you meet the Prime Minister in... eight hours."

"That is an outrage! Where could we possibly wait for eight hours?! Am I truly so unwelcome here?"

"No, no, sir that's not it at all. The Prime Minister is a busy man. Please, allow us to provide you a catered room for you and these fine soldiers to wait in."

"I... I suppose that will do." Too easy. No wonder these people are about to be overthrown. "I'll just... I'll have my man bring up a bag with my documents and what-have-you." In this setting "what-have-you" meant guns, ammunition, and fascist partisan uniforms. Belitrano, his accompanying guards, and the guns he smuggled in were all brought to a comfortable private room mere hallways away from the Prime Minister's office. He helped himself to some coffee at the expense of the soon-to-be-very-gone government. It was shit. The Yalosi soldiers sat and waited. Idle chit-chat saw several hours go by. No-one touched the food, but coffee and water were enjoyed by all. There was more than enough for nine men.

After some time, urgent running was heard in the hallways. An aide burst into the room.

"Sirs, you should really leave, I- No, don't leave, everything is- Uh, here. Here is a report on what is happening. Rebellion, really."

Belitrano raised his eyebrows. "You don't say."

He put his coffee down on top of the report. Another half hour went by and another aide came in, this one looked a bad way.

"Sirs, we must advise you to not leave the safety of this building until the rebel forces have been dealt with."

Belitrano nodded and the aide left, presumably to leave the building as fast a he damn well could.

"Well..." He said, to the present company, "That seems to be as good a signal for you as any."

The men changed uniforms and armed themselves. They waited for the first gunshot, then burst out and surged down hallways and corridors to take the Republican soldiers from behind. Mere hours later, he was in front of the Eyuka.

Bearing his locked metal chest, Belitrano side-stepped a bloody body. Ah, yes, it was the Prime Minister. Quite good, that.

"All hail the Eyuka Empress!" a soldier shouted. Belitrano didn't even bother saying anything. His loyalty couldn't be questioned or reinforced at this point. He held the chest up in front of him expectantly. Senyau approached him and removed a key from around his neck in order to open the strong box. Belitrano fished out the contents. There were numerous parchments.

"This!" He shouted, holding it up, "Is an affirmation of Delmontese support for the cause of the Empress and the people of Yalos. This, on the other hand, is a far more practical show of support." He handed the check for nearly one trillion ducats over and went back inside the box.

"Here we have a lineage tree illustrated by only the finest Delmontese anthropologists, historians, and archivists demonstrating that Empress Janice is the rightful heir to the throne of Yalos. And here is an ancient [forged] Delmontese account describing the marriage between a Delmontese man and one of the Empress' ancestors. And another [also forged] from The Principality of the Blue Plains. Truly, this Empress cannot be questioned."

This was met with cheers. He approached Senyau closely with another parchment, this one being produced from his coat pocket.

"And here is a list of nations who feel similarly."

"Ships!" Someone shouted, "A large navy off the coast!"

Belitrano slammed the box shut and pursed his lips. "Yes, ships. Delmontese ships flying Delmontese flags as promised." Some people applauded and Belitrano felt the need to give a curt, proper bow. Little did they know that had their revolution gone poorly, these same ships would have arrived as a show of support to the Republican government.

by **Yalos** » Thu Jun 26, 2014 3:14 pm

Ju'tozzo, Military Oil Depot
The Last Republican Holdouts

The rifle felt heavy in Yupik’s arms as he leapt over the rubble and threw himself down into a prone position, regretting his hasty action a moment later as he felt a glass shard pierce into the side of his arm, drawing a thick pool of dark, crimson blood. A shower of bullets flew overhead, shredding a cabinet against the wall as he breathlessly clutched the earth, trying to get closer to the ground. In the distance, sporadic bursts of gunfire, shouting, and the rumbling of tank gears could be barely made out.

Yupik, readjusting his combat hat, peered over the pile of stones before himself; three of the Revolutionaries were approaching with grenades and rifles at the ready. Yupik reached for his ammunition belt, and found himself reaching for nothing; he had spent the last of his ammunition on the enemy tank near the barn. Now, he was a sitting duck.

He considered fighting an honorable last stand; a warrior’s chivalrous death against a determined foe. Gripping his knife, he considered it, truly, but he slowly placed the knife down as the sweat fell from his drenched brow and blinded him momentarily. Resistance, he knew, would be futile, and reluctantly, he tore a part of his mother’s handkerchief, tied it to the end of the barrel of his gun, and mustering the last of his strength, waved it half heartedly above his head. He had conceded both himself, and the entirety of the local fuel depot.

Dragged to his feet, Yupik was pushed on the end of a rifle to a nearby, humming truck. The soldier escort kicked him and tied his hands, roughly throwing him into the back like so much as a bag of potatoes, shouting at him as he tried to grasp his bloody face. Years of indoctrination had come to this. His service, his undying service and loyalty to the Republican government had given him this; a beaten nose, a torn arm, a ruined uniform and a sense of betrayal at the politicians who had fled. Yupik’s tears were those of fatigue, pain and, though he wouldn’t admit it, disappointment.

Streets of Ju'tozzo,
Central Town

As the truck carrying Yupik and various other Republican Loyalists passed by her car, the newly anointed Eyuka sat in the back of her armored vehicle, playing on her little gaming device. Furiously pounding her petite little fingers on the little black buttons, Eyuka Empress, “Jane,” as she was called by the Western Media, smashed away at Soviet Infantrymen in her virtual Panzer tank, giggling as she ran over a platoon of Russian infantrymen. It was good to destroy the enemies of the people.

The soldier sitting up front pulled his microphone down, and glancing over at his Empress, cleared his throat.

“Eyuka Empress,” he began. We have arrived. Have you prepared your first Address?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She closed the lid of her gaming device, jammed it into her bag, and stood, throwing the armored doors aside to reveal a mass of inquisitive reporters and camera men, who pushed and struggled with a solid line of Yalosii Storm troopers to speak with the Empress. The flash of cameras and the noise were of no interest to the fifteen year old Eyuka who ignored them, and simply stepped down the red carpet path as she stepped into the great, former senatorial chamber.

Filled with ex military members, business leaders and revolutionary politicians and current soldiers, the senatorial hall rose in a massive cheer as Jane began her walk to the podium, escorted by four burly soldiers. Flags of the revolution hung from the ceiling as she took her position at the podium, laid out her many papers, and opened her little mouth, her tiny voice amplified and made grand and mighty by the microphone. The bright lights shone upon her childish features as she addressed her first Fascist congress.

“Friends of the People. Moralistic, conscious driven citizens. Brave and stalwart warriors.”

Her voice powerfully rang throughout the hall, striking all present with a divine awe as they silently watched their new Eyuka, their eyes glimmering and their hearts full of patriotic joy. Eyuka may have been a small girl, but years of leading street gangs and ruthless power struggles had prepared her, at a young age, for the trials and tribulations of despotic leadership. Including, of course, the ability to mesmerize the weak-minded and the passionate.

“Today is a day of celebration. Today is a day of victory.”

A cheer erupted as members of the crowd waved banners and other insignia. Jane waited a moment, and continued speaking.

“Just four hours from this present moment, the justice seeking, and righteous forces of the Third Yalosii Armored Division seized the government, and compassion in their hearts, did away with the weak and inept tyrants, leading our humble and glorious people into sin and poverty. Now, we, the people, have retaken our nation from the forces of political correctness and Marxist tyranny.”

“But Brothers. Sisters. While we may rejoice, our Crusade is not yet done. For the years of censorship, government theft of private enterprise and the hatred of our armed forces have done their damage. Even now, members of the former Republican government, with their long, treacherous noses and scheming, rat-like dirty nails plot our downfall. They seek to restore the corruption and fear that kept our people submissive and weak.”

“To the South of our nation, a Marxist plot arises. Communists, under the banner of ‘liberation’, seek to undermine our cause of justice and compassion, waving their read hammer and sickles as they plot to enslave all under their system of pseudo freedom. They call themselves the ‘Yalosii People’s Army,’ and pose a significant threat to our humble order.”

“To the East, the Republican government has reestablished itself, forcing thousands of young men into arms under the guise of ‘freedom’ and ‘liberty.’ They would have us live, again, under our former system of Capitalist oppression, and have us crawling and gnawing at the dirt to survive.” Jane’s voice was nearly shrieking, filled with anger and vented hatred, and those present stood, responsive, and raised their caps in salute and protestations of indignation against these Republican foes.

“Our revolution is not complete. We may have taken the head of the chicken; however, its body still thrashes and fights. We must subdue what is left, and ensure that all Yalosii citizens, regardless of social class or position, can be proud of our ancient and awe inspiring history. We must take arms, my comrades, and destroy these opponents to our revolution, for it is the only way we may survive. N'vyass Kkau'tusskka Y'iuthattaa!”

The soldiers and men present stood, waving their hats and throwing fists into the air as Eyuka Janice simply smirked at the sheer power emanating from the masses. Her time would come, she knew, to make her everlasting mark upon history.

Ju'tozzo, Jane's Escort
Inside the Armored Truck

The Eyuka clambered back into her armored truck, and pulled out her game again, this time accompanied by Shoyo, Senyau, and Dhoyo Ma, Xenestii, both aged military men with long, decorated careers. She stared them in the eyes, and returned her interest to her game. The truck was silent for a few moments, until Jane’s tank was blown up by some foreign teenager with a rocketlauncher. Sighing in frustration, she put her game away, finally bothering to address her minions, as she called them.

“Did you invite this Delmontese man to lunch, as I had requested?”

“Yes, Eyuka Empress.” Senyau nodded. “He also gave us a list of potential contributors and supporters to our cause. Shall we contact them?”

“Not yet. I want to contain this to a few nations, if possible. Too much foreign involvement could complicate matters and cause a lack of cohesion for our cause. Let’s focus on winning the hearts of the people first.”

“Of course, my Eyuka Empress. The Delmontese noble also provided the family tree you so desired, as well as a significant contribution of nearly a trillion ducats. We can invest it into the military.”

“No. Let’s create sinecure jobs first; lots of them. A working populace is a happy one.” Then, seeing the slight disappointment upon the soldiers’ faces, she added, for good measure, “of course, we can increase military funding once our regime is stable and entrenched. Understood?"

"Of course, Eyuka Empress." Senyau and Xenestii both nodded at the same time.

"For now, however, we need to set our priorities straight. Now, where are we meeting our foreign guest?”

“I informed him that we should meet at your favorite Italian place. I did not receive a confirmation, but I cannot imagine that he would not show up.”

“Excellent. Good work Xenestii. Now, I must take a nap. Leave me to rest you big dummies.”

by **Yngen** » Thu Jun 26, 2014 3:55 pm

Ju'tozzo, ????
Lost somewhere in the heart of the city

Jade Princess Takara was furious and confused in equal measure. She had taken a boat across to Ystovia and there, taken connecting flights through until they had finally arrived here, in Ju'tozzo, a city whose name she couldn't even pronounce. She had been sent as 'ambassador' for the Jade Empire, though in reality her job was to try and convince the government here to assist in the fast-tracking of Yngenious infrastructure, whether out of the goodness of their hearts or for solid coin, gold and oil.

Instead, she had experienced her first ever commercial jet which, even though she was in business class, was absolutely horrible. After throwing up several times, she had staggered through to Passport Control with her retinue and been told that the government had just changed, and now some glorious party of the nation had taken over, and all the names she had been given to contact were completely wrong and nothing made sense anymore.

Now, having retrieved their luggage and hired a nice-enough looking pair of GMC Yukons in a tasteless beige, the Princess, her maid Avery Johnson, and six soldiers of the elite household Tigers regiment, were rolling around the streets trying to read a map written in a foreign language, amidst the confusion and chaos of a city that had just changed hands. So far they had gotten away with it by simply avoiding any roadblocks or large groups of the celebrating fascist infantry, but it was not getting them any nearer to their goal, which Takara supposed was to find this new Eyuka, who a weary-looking airport official had informed her was the official head of state now.

by **Globus** » Thu Jun 26, 2014 4:01 pm

Merridell, Globus
Military Headquarters
1300 Local Time

President Comte arrived in a large convoy of vehicles, as usual, to the military headquarters. On the third floor was the Joint Staff meeting room, where his Joint Chiefs of Staff and Secretary of Defense awaited his arrival. The President walked in with a brisk stride, and the men stood to their feet to greet the president.

"Good afternoon” Comte stated, “please take a seat. I know you've all been shortly briefed concerning the matter of this meeting. As you know, the capitol city of Yalos, Ju'tozzo was taken over by a military coup yesterday. Here is the location of Yalos”

A map showing Yalos showed up on the screen, and zoomed up on Ju'tozzo.

"Within the capitol building, located here, the Prime Minister is being held hostage. Intel tells us that he is alive and well, although this is not confirmed. Right now, I am most worried about the citizens of Yalos. Military coups tend to be destructive overtaking forces. Because of this, I wish to ensure the safety and tranquility of the citizens. As of now, we have no plans to overthrow the coup, although it shall be considered. We have no ties to Yalos, and because of that, I could care less the outcome of the situation, as long as no civilians blood is shed.”

“I am preparing to send a regiment of 700 special ops and 150 military physicians to the southeast outskirts of Ju’tozzo. A base will be set up for the aid of the citizens. The 700 special ops troops will search the city for those in need of help, and direct them to the base. They will also provide us intel on the situation. If the coup peacefully overthrows the government, no further action shall be required, but is the coup grows violent then we will discuss matters of military intervention. Any comments?”

Daniel L. Duarte, Chief of Naval Operations raised his hand slightly and commented, “I think we should deploy a naval fleet to the waters of Yalos, to show the coup what will be against them if they choose to act violent.”

“That’s always a great option to consider. For now, we don’t want to make this look like a war. We’re only acting as peacekeepers, to protect the citizens of Yalos.” responded Comte.

“We’ll meet again in a few days once our forces have landed in Ju’tozzo and set up base.” Comte added, then we walked out of the room, and meeting was adjourned.

Asherton Air Force Base
The next day, 0900 Local Time

Thirteen MTD Type-15 VTOL Reapers could be seen on the pavement of Asherton AFB. Type-15’s are the largest VTOLs in the Globus Armed Forces, capable of carrying 80 men. Eleven of them would be used to carry the special ops troops and the physicians, and the last two were to carry the supplies for the base. Tents, food, beds, and medical supplies were among the items being loaded into the two designated for cargo.

At 1030 local time, two reapers rose vertically into the sky, and departed for Ju’tozzo. The 160 men on the two aircraft were to secure a sight for the base.

At 1100 local time, 3 reapers carrying troops, 2 reapers carrying the physicians, and the 2 cargo reapers departed to set up base.

Finally at 1200 local time, the remaining 4 reapers departed for the base in Ju’Tozzo.

The Commonwealth of Globus

Official Communique

To: Commander of the Yalos Forces
From: President Auguste Comte

To Whom it May Concern,

Greetings, allow me to introduce myself. I am Auguste Comte, President of the Commonwealth of Globus. I hope this letter is being read by someone in charge of the Yalos Forces leaded the coup, as this is very important. I am most worried about the safety and well-being of the citizens of Ju’tozzo in the midst of this military overthrow of the government. Because of this concern, I have deployed a group of special operations men and military physicians to the southeast of Ju’tozzo. I am writing to give you fair warning of their arrival, and inform you that these are not soldiers who will not be hostile to you men. My only goal for them is to provide humanitarian support for the citizens of Ju’tozzo. I have no interest in the overthrow of the government, or the overthrow of your coup. I beg you, do not act hostile to my men, they are only there for the greater good. Thank you for understanding.

Sincerely,

Auguste Comte
President of the Commonwealth of Globus

by **Delmonte** » Fri Jun 27, 2014 11:44 am

Belitrano proudly wore his formal regalia for his meeting with the Eyuka Empress. His sash bore several medals, one of which was for his actions on behalf of Delmonte in the past weeks.

"Empress, you know the food better than I here. I will allow you to order for the both of us, I am sure you know what is good. And I took the liberty of providing the wine."

The Ambassador beckoned and his servant brought forth a dusty-looking bottle of red wine.

"Three years ago I intended to drink this wine with the Prime Minister. Two years ago I intended to drink it by myself. And one year ago, I decided to drink it with you." He poured it into glasses, "May it go down smoothly. To victory, to the Eyuka Empress, and a Yalos and Delmonte united in a strong alliance."

They caroused with their glasses and sipped the wine. Belitrano, notorious for favoring sweeter reds, did not fail this time. The wine had been made with rosewater and the aroma of rose petals wafted off of it strongly. This, combined with the natural sweetness of the wine as well as some additives, made the vintage a pleasant sort of sweet while still maintaining the stature of a red wine. Belitrano savored it and then helped himself to a roll that he began to butter to his liking.

"I really must make it clear how grateful I am to be here. Yalos is a temperate nation with the comforts of modernity. When the Di Azzones were in power in Delmonte and I was out of favor, I was stuck in a backwoods, backwards, backwater desert kingdom. It was awful. The food was poor, it was one hundred degrees in the shade, and the locals had a penchant for cutting off appendages. Nothing like here. It was a shame about the former government. Their reluctance to deal with us as equals was quite infuriating. Fortunately, their successors are far more reasonable. I'm happy to say that I've clearly bet on a winning horse." Here he smiled and gestured to the Empress.

"Now that my flattery is out of the way, if I may, what are your next steps, Empress? What is the first order of business for the newly re-established Yalosi Empire?"

by **Yalos** » Fri Jun 27, 2014 11:04 pm

Central Ju’tozzo Shopping District
Mama Mia's Italian Restaurant

“You two-” she turned to Senyau and Xenestii, who patiently sat beside her. “Leave. I must speak with our guest in private.”

The men bowed deeply, stood, saluted, and walked off.

The Empress, small and clearly very militant, bore the markings of a peasant’s birth. Raised on the streets by a shoe polisher, Janice had never imagined the true extent of the glory of her heritage until she encountered then young Lieutenant Xenestii on the streets, after trying to snatch his pocketbook.

Grabbing her firmly by the wrist, the at-the-time, young soldier and avid Monarchist Revivalist had been shocked at her resemblance to portraits of the great Eyuka Empress Yun'thasskka II. Or as most modern Yalosii Monarchists knew her, the Great Mother of Absolutism and Industrialization. It was pure fate that had landed Janice where she was now. Janice lacked proper table manners as she didn’t start receiving her formal education until she was nearly thirteen.

Shoveling Swordfish a la Siciliana rather unceremoniously into her mouth, Janice took a few moments to think, while chewing, tapping her cheek with her fork, as if in deep thought. She remembered the reading, all of the reading that she had done in the Xenestii Family’s private library, and the approximate steps she planned to take to rule Yalos with her tiny iron fist.

“I think my revolution became so successful because of three major causes. Of course, there were others, but” she swallowed, “I think that three certainly stand out, and must be corrected if I am to rule effectively.”

“The first and foremost reason I am in power is because of the Economic condition. Yalos, as you said, is an industrialized nation with a temperate climate. Our people are industrialists; it is true, but also farmers and country folk. Our nation, sadly,” she waved her fork, sagely, “underwent a bit of a drought in the past years. People from the country have been flooding to the cities for work, abandoning their homes. I suspect they desire a return to the old ways; as they desire a return to their homes. Le Quartier Ancien is filled with such farm folk.

“So, what does the brilliant Eyuka do?” she asked her guest, in the third person. “She creates lots of jobs. She fills the factories with workers; she takes the country folk and sets them to clearing roads and building new cities. She then promises a return to the country by causing an explosion of the arts and makes it so that the peasants will not want to return to their farms. I will make life better in the cities than the country could ever be.”

Stabbing her fish indelicately, she tore off a bit of flesh with her teeth.

“Our next issue is the military. As you probably know,” she tried to gulp the wine down in a single gulp, and quietly replaced her glass. She had never taken alcohol before.

“As I was saying, you probably know that the Yalosii people have a strong military tradition. Our army still follows values from the middle ages. The people trust the army, and the army, luckily, seems to trust me. I think it has to do with disillusionment or something of the sort.”

Janice gladly took a glass of water from a passing waiter’s tray, and continued.

“So, while I’m working to revitalize the economy, I’ll bring a return of military values. We’ll glorify the military life. We’ll give our soldiers the best seat at the theatres. We’ll make soldiers proud to be soldiers again. This should be simply enough. All we need is some Delmontese contractor to design a uniform fitting of our nation’s traditional values. I imagine that such dealings could be very generous for your pocket book, my educated friend.” Janice giggled.

“Finally, the Communists.”

Janice angrily shattered her glass.

“Oh, how I hate those scum. The Communist Militia to the South has been agitating for decades. Now, they’ve taken my revolution as an excuse to secede, taking nearly a tenth of the country with them. Their reputation for violence precedes, them, however.” Janice handed Belitrano a magazine.

“Page twelve. An article about Yalosii People’s Army atrocities. This stuff is commonplace. People fear the Communists. I think it should be no problem to use this fear to my advantage.”
“Now, my friend. Before you say anything, let me offer you a gift.” She reached under her chair and proffered a delicate, old sword.

“To be honest, you don’t look like the kind to carry a sword, but Shizii, fencing, is very popular in the Yalosii military. I would advise you to wear the sword whenever making state visits. It would enhance your image in the eyes of the masses. And I cannot openly deal with those who are not popular. Do we understand one another?”

Central Ju’tozzo Shopping Center
The Streets, Customs

The Jade Princess’ car would not be able to avoid the soldiers forever. The erratic movements of the car and its clear lack of direction were eventually noticed by the local militia customs that approached curiously, their rifles slung over their shoulders. Dressed in traditional military cap and fatigues, they saluted the first Car and knocked on the window.

“Hello. Foreigners,” They ordered in their broken English accents. “Revolution is of taking over, and needing foreigners to register at Royal Palace with new Imperial Government. We will of escorting. You will comings, yes?” The brandished their rifles menacingly, and had traffic halted nearby. The question was clearly an order.

The peasants began to stop their daily activities to watch as the streets became ominously silent. The wind could be heard, ever so lightly howling in the background and one could hear a pin drop. The tension was rising, indeed, and the guards were ready to use force if needs be. A chicken cackled, somewhat humorously, but otherwise, the scene was quiet.

Central Ju’tozzo Shopping District
Outside Mama Mia's Italian Restaurant

Senyau was busy waiting for the lunch to finish when he was approached by a boy on a bicycle who eagerly held a message to him with a quivering arm.

“A message for the great general.”

Senyau disinterestedly tore the envelope open, and began to scan the contents, his eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise. He did not expect, nor desire this new turn of events, and he realized where they were landing. This message from Globus amused him, to say the least.

The South East

Senyau chuckled.

“If they’re going to try to play us for fools, they ought to be more subtle.” He laughed. “Their position would be perfect to buffer the Republican and Communist secessionists. Do they think us, newborn babies, to not expect such treachery?”

Xenestii took the letter from Senyau’s fingers and was less amused after reading it.

“These fools think that they can simply land troops in our territory without our permission? By the ancestors, if they weren’t landing in rebel territory, I would simply have them shot down.” He growled. “But perhaps, instead, we can allow the rebels to take care of them.”

“Indeed. I’d imagine that the Communists and Republicans are both feeling rather trigger happy at this moment. Let them take care of this pestilence. Don’t send a reply. We need not bother.”

by **Delmonte** » Fri Jun 27, 2014 11:27 pm

The Chancellery of Foreign Nations
Of the Most Serene Republic and Grand City of Delmonte

"In Bellum Pax; Per Pax Prosperitatem."

Addressed to the Commonwealth of Globus; Dear Sirs,

It has come to my attention that you have deployed "special operations units" to Yalos? Whose permission did you ask for this? You think that just because something happens, you can land troops somewhere without asking anyone? What if you had riots in one of your cities. Could Delmonte send peace keepers there? Charity workers are one thing; I am positive that the government of Yalos would work with you to ensure that your aid reached those who need it. That is one thing; it is quite another to just land some men with guns on the beach and say "We're here!" That is a violation of sovereignty and, indeed, a threat to Yalos.

I will keep this short. I have been granted temporary authority over the Delmontese naval taskforce here. Remove your men with guns. The medical officers, unarmed mind you, may coordinate with the Yalosi government for protection. If you do not do what we ask, it will be our duty as Yalos' ally to enforce our alliance and begin blowing your supply ships out of the water.

Good Day,
Belitrano Di Bernardini, Delmontese Ambassador to Yalos

___________________________________________________

"My Empress, we understand each other perfectly." Belitrano said, smiling, as he accepted the sword and slid the Empress his own glass of wine.

by **Globus** » Fri Jun 27, 2014 11:49 pm

The Commonwealth of Globus

Official Communique

To: Belitrano Di Bernardini and Senyau of the Yalos Military
From: President Auguste Comte

The Globus Armed Forces and I understand your concern about the soon to be sudden arrival of foreign men in Yalos. As a result of poorly planned actions, I have already ordered the cancellation of my previous orders to deploy men into Yalos. I apologize on behalf of the armed forces for so hastily intervening. Quite candidly, I realize my actions taken for this operation were feeble, flawed, and mismanaged.

Although I have erroneously ruined my country's image to Yalos, it continues to be in our best interests to send whatever aid is needed to provide security and assurance to the people of Ju'tozzo. I propose sending humanitarian workers to Ju'tozzo on the grounds that they are kept safe and are not imprisoned, harmed, or killed by Yalos forces. I understand that Globus has a poor image in your eyes because of my misfortune actions, but beg you to fully consider the aid I am proposing for your people. Thank you, and once again I confess my foolishness regarding my previous actions.

Sincerely,

Auguste Comte
President of the Commonwealth of Globus

by **Novseau** » Sat Jun 28, 2014 7:24 am

The Allied States of Novseau
Allied States Situation Room - Office of the President

"You mean to tell me Wyatt, that a little woman has become the sole ruler of a nation that has over 1 billion people living in it? How did we not see this coming?" The President leaned back in her chair. ACID (Allied Central Intelligence Directive) prided itself on being the best informed of foreign affairs, even better than the Allied State Department. Yet, it had allowed a nation to fall under a coup and come under the control of a woman some intelligence reports described as a little girl. " Madame President, in defense of our operatives. We did not recognize that there was a problem until it was too late. By then the Prime Minister and his government had already been forcefully removed."

The President scooted forward in her chair, careful not to show the anger that she was feeling from within. If she did not calm down soon, she was sure that one of her migraines would come back. Such was the stresses of her office." Wyatt, what do you propose we do. I am barring the deployment of any of our men. I don't want to waste the lives of Novseauen men and women on this." Novseau had problems of it's own. Ever since the government reform that practically butchered the aristocracy, violence had become more prevalent as a result of the more laxer punishment delivered when breaking laws. The President didn't want to waste time on a foreign nation unless she knew it was worth it.

" Madame President, I believe that we should send a message. A firm one. However, we should be friendly. Our operatives report that they may have foreign recognition already. Any move made by us can be seen as a declaration of war. I advise that we tread lightly on this and feel the situation out, if at all."

" Wyatt, we are going to have to do something about this regardless of whether we want to or not. This nation is simply too large to merely ignore what is going on."

An aide appeared in the room and dropped off two more folders marked "Classified". The National Security Adviser quickly picked up a folder and quickly scanned through it's contents. " Madame President, it seems that there is more bad news. Our operatives may be compromised. It seems that all foreigners are required to register with the Imperial Government. They may or may not be lost."

The President slammed her fist against the table as she processed the news, it wasn't often that ACID agents were compromised. But whenever one was, it was a loss for the entire administration. It was well known throughout the government that ACID agents did not simply grow on tress. " Wyatt, we have to get him."

As the National Security adviser continued to skim the pages of the classified brief. " Madame President, before he was compromised the agent managed to pass on some information that may make our decisions regarding this nation more difficult. It appears that there is communist uprisings in the southern part of Yalos, the rebels have been successful enough to take one-tenth of the nation."

The President closed her eyes. She felt one of those migraines coming," Wyatt get the State Department on the phone right now."

Recipient: Yalosii Immigration Service
Origin: The Allied Department of State - Secretary of State Morgan Crane
Subject: Tourists

Dear Sir/Madame,

It has come to the attention of the State Department in Novseau that some of our citizens may be in your nation. As a result of government protocol, we wish to transport the tourists back to our own nation. There is no need for them to register with the Imperial Government in Yalos. Upon your confirmation that you have received this message, we will dispatch transport for the tourists.

Thank You,

Morgan Crane

by **Yngen** » Sat Jun 28, 2014 10:55 am

Central Ju’tozzo Shopping Center The Streets, Customs

The princess's driver stared, not understanding much English himself, until the red-haired handmaid spoke up. 'Certainly. We are diplomats from the Empire of Yngen, and wish to speak to the foreign office.

Takara sighed from the back. She was excited to be travelling, but instead of savouring the delights of the world, she was stuck visiting stuffy politicians in musty old halls.

Avery spoke rapidly in Yngenious, ordering the driver to follow the local guards instructions.

by **Doppio Giudici** » Sat Jun 28, 2014 3:18 pm

Peoples Liberation Front Secondary Headquarters
Failed Republic Florence
Old Florence Training Military Training Site

The Peoples Liberation Front sounded almost like a terrorist organization, it also sounded highly communist in nature. This was not quite the truth to a great many people, dozens of left-winged countries pointed out that the PLF avoided civilians and followed almost all standard rules of war. The only violation was that they frequently waged war without warning and used large amounts of fourth generation warfare to seize the day. Most of the time the organization trained fresh recruits in various abandoned nations, places where people remained but governments did not. Supplies were low and dedicated leadership was not something that was numerous, thus it was common for all full time members to take leadership training. Fresh recruits and sponsors were what the movement thrived upon, such that it limited their operations to places where they had third party support and high chances of gaining the support of locals.

Egil Nikolaus stood a safe distance as the men from his first squad used the dummy handheld launcher on the range. It's configuration was similar to a LAW, RPG-18, or RPG-22. Depending on what empty round you loaded, it would have the range of one of the three disposable launchers. In the past few years training soldiers so that they knew how to use disposable weapons was impractical and expensive, impossible to afford. However the group had some contacts and since then they made sure as many as their personnel as possible knew how to take out a tank, by just using whatever launcher they had on them. He gazed at the various men and women, who fired round after round at the burnt-out tanks that were towed there after Florence fell apart. All of them were wearing standard issue military caps, since helmets were reserved for personnel in combat.

Captain Nikolaus was mainly in charge of logistics and training for this base, making sure that each new platoon he was rotated was trained up to snuff. They then stayed there and kept their skills up, waiting for an officer to show up with a campaign. Currently there was a back-pile of at least two combat platoons, along with a weapons squad and two logistical teams. No one was stupid enough to think combat would be easy, but they didn't leave their homes just to learn how to shoot. He heard some solid footsteps and mild rattling of webbing behind him, so he turned around to see who was getting into the supplies again.

Well this was clearly not one of his men, he couldn't recognize the gear but he knew it was certainly not leftover or passed down like everything else they used was. Now that he took note of it, a lot of it seemed special ops if his memory was right. The figure stopped less then ten feet from him and pulled down the ski-mask that covered most of his face.

"Are you Captain Nikolaus?" The other figure asked

"I am, and who exactly would you be?" Nikolaus asked

"Operator Saul" The other man answered "NTA Rangers, rank is O3, but around ordinary soldiers it rises to O4."

"So, Major Saul." Egil began "What brings you here to my encampment?"

"I have a campaign, which I myself am sponsoring." Saul answered"I would like to know who is the senior logistics officer here."

"You are looking at him." Egil confirmed

"And is there any other logical officers?" Saul asked

"Two of them, both LTs." Egil replied

"Leave one here to man the training grounds and bring everyone not fresh or under their command to me by sundown." Saul ordered

"And what is so important to tie up my operation here and be worth loading up all my personnel?" Egil wondered, leaning forward slightly.

Saul put his hands behind his back and explained "Have you heard of Yalos?"

"I'm aware of a capitalist republic not far from here, along with rumors that it doesn't treat it's lower classes very well." Egil admitted "I'm also aware that martial law is frequent and the laws are random at times. Has something happened?"

"It would seem that their has been a coup recently, they weren't paying their soldiers enough to maintain their police state." Saul affirmed

"I can see how we would be able to move in on that, but how can you be for certain that we wouldn't have issues with the populace?" Egil worried "I'm assuming we have fascism and oligarchical capitalism to deal with?"

"You are correct in assuming that the coup was done by the military, but it's wrapped around a young monarch whose barely 16 or 17." Saul went on

"I'm not sure if I can help you, I'm stuck here training people for being politically unreliable." Egil muttered "Besides, it sounds like she's not much different from your prophet or emperor. I bet she is angry as well?"

"Links to crime, self-absorbed, and extremely paranoid of communism." Saul countered "I've read what little we could scrape together so soon, and all I can say is that she is going to be a cruel dictator. No understanding of right and wrong, no humbleness to even a god or a people."

"Are there communist factions involved?" Egil asked "Are they politically or morally reliable?"

"No Intel to speak of right now, I know little about them." Saul revealed "From what I can tell all factions are lead by bitter assholes, including the communist factions possibly. The military is too militaristic, the capitalism is to unmanaged, and it's only a matter of time before war-crimes are committed if they already haven't happened."

"So we go in to create safe-zones and clear out who we can?" Egil mummered with fear in his voice.

"It's not like we have any other choice and it's less likely we could just watch this happen." Saul admitted "Are you sure you want to join me for this?"

"By God, whatever it takes and whatever he asks."

by **Yalos** » Sat Jun 28, 2014 7:58 pm

The Royal Palace, Ju'tozzo,
The Registration Drive

The Royal Palace, better known to the locals as Ju’tozzo Kutio, was a massive, decrypt building, several hundred years old. Built during the reign of the first Yalosii Emperor, Eyuka Kijuutii, this massive symbol of ancient Yalosii authoritarianism and absolutism simply towered over the local bureaucratic officers and residential areas. A true feat of human engineering, the Palace’s domed roof and intricate series of garden bridges and canals made communication and transport within the confines of the palace itself rather easy and the stunning stone working and ambitious architecture were the art of the long lost scribes of the old Imperial order. A massive draw bridge, once designed for defense, was now perpetually propped open, opening the way for a microcosm of a city within a city.

It was under the looming walls of this eternal palace into which Takara was to enter, into a small crowd of other confused and upset foreigners, all of whom were watched suspiciously by armed guards and armed police forces who, from horseback, herded the foreigners with small batons and angry words. A few warning shots would be fired into the ground or the air when the crowd was too rowdy, but otherwise, the proceedings were relatively peaceful. A black woman with her baby bumped into one of the soldier’s horses, and was summarily grabbed by the guards who took her baby from her hands, and pinned her against the wall, screaming. Police brutality was commonplace in Yalos.

The guards took Takara’s papers and stamped them without even bothering to gloss them over, making copies quickly, handing them back without further complications. Such was the nature of Yalosii bureaucracy. There was no time to check the papers when there was alcohol to be enjoyed afterwards. Takara and her staff would be out in just minutes, in a whirl of papers and grunting government officials who declined to say much, except for a very chatty guardsman who spent the whole time excitedly talking about the success of the revolution. With the red wax on her papers, Takara and her escort were finished with their registration in mere minutes, and the guards began to tell them to, bluntly, “get the fuck out,”—in native Yalosii, of course, and were pointed into the general direction of the Diplomatic Commissariat.

Fortunately, or perhaps not so, as Takara’s papers were being ‘finalized’, Eyuka Empress happened to be passing by in her military escort. Janice, somewhat upset that her game system ran out of batteries, had spent the drive staring idly out the window. Bored already, she slumped against the window as Xenestii poured her a glass of soda. She took it from his hands, and for a rare moment, felt a bit of gratitude, only to have it replaced with her usual arrogance and cynicism. After all, Xenestii was, more or less, her surrogate father, and she was loyal to him. She wouldn’t say that she loved him, but she was loyal to him, and all that he had done for her. And she repaid those who did good things for her.

“Xenestii…let’s have some more interesting guests for dinner. I want to meet that Delmontese fellow again. And can you arrange to have some foreign diplomats to dine at our table tonight?”

“Certainly, my Eyuka Empress. But there are few politicians, let alone, diplomats, your own age.”

“Whatever, you dummy. Just find whomever you see fit. Just make sure I have interesting company tonight.” She huffed and drained her glass.

Official Message of the Yalosii Homeguards Sronthros Division

Recipient: The State Department of Novseau

You have permission to extract your citizens from our territory. However, you must be able to provide proof of their citizenship and an alibi for each person you extract. Furthermore, nobody may take any possessions out of the country, save a single change of clothing. As you must understand, this is done in the name of national security in these troubling times, and we do not know when the communists may strike next. These actions are being taken for your safety. We are not responsible for any deaths incurred as a result of such an operation, as rebel forces still roam the nation, and while mostly suppressed, still could pose a substantial security threat.

You have three days to remove your barbarian citizens. After three days, we will not allow such an endeavor to take place.

-From the Desk of Marshal Syo'kaei Krikkll

by **Yngen** » Sun Jun 29, 2014 12:13 pm

The Royal Palace, Ju'tozzo,
The Registration Drive

The Imperials cut a rather different figure to the rest of the crowd. Avery Johnson with her striking red hair and catlike grace, Takara with her regal air and military-cut clothing, and the six Samurai with snarling tiger masks, blazing orange and brooding sable armour, long katanas clanking at their sides and SCAR-H assault rifles in their hands. They exuded a quiet air of ancient malice, successfully concealing their utter confusion at this bizarre, foreign nation and their nervousness at relying on primary weapons they had only received a week before. Takara had been successfully shielded from the blows and barbs of the local soldiers, though Avery had had to restraint one of the more zealous Samurai who had almost attacked a Yalosii police officer. In the heart of a foreign nation full of fascists with guns, no matter how brave you were or quick with a sword it was probably a bad idea to start trying to slice heads off, unless your goal was to find out how high a ratio of decapitations to bullet wounds you could achieve. It might be higher than your average grunt, but most likely not high enough.

Takara and her Samurai stepped out into the light just as the Eyuka's autocade was rounding a corner. They crossed the street right in front of her, a gaudy and exotic group heading warily towards the Diplomatic Commissariat.

OOC - I didn't know if you wanted me to skip to the dinner, or what, so I'll just leave it there and you progress it to where you wanted

by **Doppio Giudici** » Sun Jun 29, 2014 2:17 pm

The Holy Empire of Suiyu
Frontlines, Sector 18

The front lines of the Holy Empire had been in dead-lock for weeks now. The war was drying up resources for both sides and it was a matter of time before one of them broke down, before the stalemate ended. A mercenary infantry company was holding the barren pass before them, half a mile of open ground with plateaus on both side. There had been nothing but silence for over four days, the air-strikes and random artillery fire had stopped. The captain watched in utter silence with his spotter scope, trying to see if anything was moving.

"Sir, I see dust being kicked up at the 6x point!" One of the company snipers shouted.

"Verified, someone is using engine exhaust." The other sniper confirmed

"High number, side to side all space filled." The first one went on, moving his rifle slowly side to side "Speed is pretty high, I'd say about 35 MPH."

"Javelin teams, try to get a lock on!" The captain ordered on the radio

"Javelin platoon, reading you crystal." The Javelin platoon officer replied on the radio

Several moments passed and everyone hunkered down for what as to come their way. After twenty seconds, the radio squawked again.

"Javelin Platoon, movement has stopped and we're getting some lock-ons now." The Javelin platoon officer "Fox one to four!"

One by one four different missiles were fired into the air, their progress was watched most of the way. The snipers and spotters monitored it the smoke, looking to see a hit.

"Sniper one, S-Sir...." Sniper one reported "The missiles didn't get 20 feet from their targets."

"Arena system, they're using Arena systems." The captain stated "It's a decoy to draw our fire."

Seconds latter six different missile barrages landed on the entire infantry squad, the remaining survivors were crushed by another four barrages of NTA firepower.

Globus
Merridell International Airport

Natasha Seth, dusted off her kacki pants and made sure her white t-shirt was straight. She felt all exposed out here in the open, without a vest, webbing, hand-grenades, her rifle, her fathers sidearm, her helmet. She really preferred to do her shopping in full battle dress, like they let her back home. She sighed and looked at her phone, wondering where concourse E was. She made her way around, chewing gum from back home and trying to not get lost. She eventually found the CuppaCoffee and stepped inside, smelling the revolting smell of coffee in the air. She ordered some tea and sat down to calm her nerves.

"This would go some much better with some vodka." She muttered to herself as she sipped slow

She moved her cup of tea away from her for a second and got up to get some lemon bread, when she got back their was a pair of keys in her drink. She kept drinking her tea and ignoring the aftertaste of metal in it, before taking the cup with her. Natasha kept sipping from it and got a taxi to the Vaneviere Airport Hotel, about two miles away. She handed him her payment in standard NSD notes and got out of the cab, before unlocking the stairwell door with the first key once he left. Natasha slowly made her way up the stairs quietly to floor 6 and walked over to room F105. She breathed quietly, unsure about this.

She knew that she was watched the entire time, that was the point. The question was if this would be worth it, she was unarmed and away from the comforts of home. Even when she was choking human-rights violators with a bungie-cable, she at least had some Vodka in her.

by **Globus** » Sun Jun 29, 2014 3:48 pm

Vandeviere Airport Hotel
Merridell, Globus

It was strange not travelling in a normal motorcade. Usually when Comte needs to go somewhere, he does so in a large motorcade, with the streets blocked off. Today was different, only his security detail knew about this. He was in a van labelled “Duke’s Air Conditioning and Plumbing Services”. The only windows were the dark tinted windshields. He arrived to the back alley of the Vandeviere airport hotel. His security team escorted his up the six flights of stairs to the sixth floor, which had been closed for this meeting. His security detail went into room F104, F106, and F205. Comte went into room F105 and locked the door behind him. He took a seat at the dining room table, and picked up the ‘Atlas Today’ magazine. After an hour of reading, he was almost through the whole magazine when there were three soft knocks at the door of the suite.

“Natasha Seth, I presume?” said Comte

“Are you going to open this bloody door or not?” a frantic sounding girl said from behind the door. She had the key but was testing him.

“It was you who wanted to see me, now come in.”

She sighed and unlocked the door, stepping inside finally with a switch-blade close. She locked the door behind her and breathed again. She was a fit and lean twenty something with a bitter look in her eyes and scars all over what used to be a pretty face. She was aggressive in her stance and just looked annoyed. Her plain white t-shirt and kacki pants were boring, never in style at any point in history. The way she looked at him was paranoid, as if she expected him to double cross her any moment now. She took a seat on a bed and rested her tired feet, which were inside Mamba combat boots. It was very clear she wanted to stand out and wasn’t going for a low profile here. Lyras was the top weapons dealer for the entire world, pretty much everyone knew she was military for looking at such footwear.

“I need a drink, I feel completely naked without at least my rifle and my father’s sidearm on me.” She said.

Comte raised his head from the magazine he was reading. He looked at her, and took particular interest in the combat boots she wore. He took a long deep breath and set the magazine aside. Slowly, he stood up and grabbed a bottle of liquor sitting next to two wine glasses on the table. Like a French waiter, he took both the glasses in one hand and poured the liquor into each glass. He walked over to Natasha and extended his arm with a drink in hand.

“A toast, to our” He paused for a brief moment, “Cooperation and partnership.”

“I’m not a flyboy, but I guess I’ll have some.” She took the glass and clinked it to his. She seemingly stared into the glass as she took a sip.

Comte took a few steps backward, keeping an eye on Natasha as he sat down in his chair. “Now then, let’s talk business. You flew all the way here, you must really want my help. Remind me again, your proposal.”

“Smuggle food and weapons in, separately or at once. My people on the inside will provide relief, while arming trustable people. After that it’s up to them to decide.” She laid back on the bed and spread her arms. “Do you want something in return? Are you expecting something?”

Comte nodded. “At the very least, I do not want Yalos to become a communist state. I will however allow the people to choose which government thy wish to take, but I want to educate them about the evils of communism and the goods of a republic. This will be in their better interest whether they know it or not.”

“Debatable, I have been in red states where there was more free-speech than even your own.” She cleaned her nails with her pocket-knife. “I come from a militaristic elected veteran republic, with welfare state and police state tenancies. Everyone carries a rifle at all times, crime is a myth, and I can threat the president without being locked up. I would be watched night and day, but no one would ever kick down my door.”

Comte seemed uncomfortable. “It makes no difference either way. There’s no need to discuss these matters anyways. What matters here and now is my smuggling of food and weapons into Yalos and your people getting those supplies to the right civilians. When this goes as planned, the people shall have the freedom to make their choice. I will only hope they make the right choice.”

“There is no such thing.” She began loudly, then back to an inside voice. “I live in a utopia, but you would hate it if you lived there. It’s up to them to decide if it’s the right choice.”

Comte leaned forward, and sighed. “Let’s just get this operation underway shall we. I will contact you when the cargo is on its way to Yalos. Until then, I think we accomplished what we met here today for.”

"Waste of a perfectly good room." She looked over at him. "You're looking at number three or four of one of the most serious states there is in a fight, but you're not even thinking about the politics. I’m going to be president long after you are gone, after the next guy and so on. I could be president for over 15 years or even 40 if I wanted. I’m the top bastard of the classified spec-ops unit of four billion people. When those four billion point at the news and scream, I’m the person who crosses out names. I killed a president last week. A premier the month before that. If you are serious about the big leagues and helping humanity, going in with guns or poison… I, we are the way in.” She closed her eyes and let all of that sink in for a moment.

by **Yalos** » Sun Jun 29, 2014 6:52 pm

Ju’tozzo, le Government District
The Diplomatic Offices of the New Order

At the diplomatic offices, Takara and her retinue were asked for papers by loud, angry and disciplined soldiers, who barked and roared every word they spoke. Dressed in all black, the soldiers were members of the infamous Kutio Zeikla Storm trooper division, a newly formed private military force that answered directly to the Eyuka herself. Shaking with fervor and zeal, these men nonchalantly dismissed the Yngenios group as barbaric filth, and made matters unnecessarily difficult for these foreign guests, giving confusing and even contradictatory instructions, laughing at the strange garb of the Samurai guards and making snide and insulting remarks in Yalosii.

Luckily, before any conflict could erupt between the two groups of guards, Takara’s group was called to the desk to be informed that their registration had been completed. The young woman who sat at the desk handed their papers back professionally, informing them that a new provisionary embassy building would be set up in the private home of the now-deceased former Prime Minister.

Before they could leave, however, a group of Kutioma, Secret police, stormed in the front doors, pushing the Kutio Zeikla aside, showing the clerk an official looking paper with a seal. The clerk said a few words and nodded, pointing at Takara.

“You’ll want her.” She affirmed.

The Kutioma, with a clear purpose in mind, began to approach the Yngenious princess, their red sashes, steel tipped boots and ominous iron helmets giving an impression of importance and significance. These men were men who had been in on the coup years before Janice had even been born, and Jane knew to reward them with greater authority and executive powers. Already, just days into the coup, the new regime had developed a strong and powerful secret police presence. Eyuka had planned well.

The foremost commander spoke deeply, with a growling, baritone voice, extending a small official paper in his massive bear-paw of a hand.

“In the name of the Empress and by the official command of her humble servant, Dhoyo Xenestii, we invite you and your maidservant to be her guests at dinner tonight. You will come, and you will arrive on time.”

Ju’tozzo, le Palais Royale
Eyuka’s Private Quarters

The Eyuka sat before a mirror in her dressing room, brushing her red, flowing hair. It had been tied up in a bun all day, to give herself more of a professional militant appearance, but now, she dressed because she could. Living on the streets, she didn’t have access to face creams and combs and fine silken dresses. Now, it was mandatory that she wear them for the sake of publicity and her international reputation. Sighing, she pulled the brush slowly down her long strands of hair, almost annoyed that she had to indulge in such petty luxuries. She would much rather simply go in her military regalia. Xenestii had advised her not to, however, and she could accept sense when she heard it.

Then, she heard a sharp rap on the door.

“Come in.”

Xenestii entered, dressed in a fine suit.

“I hope all goes well for my empress.”

“I don’t understand how to use all of these things,” she admitted, motioning to the large pile of cosmetics and brushes, “but I’ve no desire to look like a peasant.”

“Tonight is important, Eyuka Empress.”

“I know.” She scowled, annoyed. “You’ve told me this like, fifteen times. It’s supposed to be my first state dinner as Empress, and I’m expected to make a good impression. Why don’t you play a different tune, you big dummy?”

“My apologies,” Xenestii reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, and tenderly wiped a bit of lipstick off of Jane’s adolescent cheek. “As you know, I’ve been dreaming for the return of the Monarchy for, well, years. Since my childhood.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jane sighed and went back to her beautification.

“ I want to make sure this goes all perfectly. I’ve not raised you all these years, and come this far, for all to fail.”

“Well, are there any interesting people for me to speak to?” she sat, her legs crossed, facing her surrogate father. “After all, I am here to forge foreign relations, yes?”

“Indeed, my Eyuka Empress,” Xenestii produced a sheet of paper. “I’ve ordered the Secret Police to search for guests, in addition to the assorted fifty odd foreign dignitaries and businessmen already invited, and we managed to find some princess of a foreign nation, a weapons cartel manager and various members of the former aristocracy.”

“Hm…I hope she isn’t some spoiled, royal, brat.” And with this, she got up, twirled around elegantly in her sparkling dress, and pulled at her straps. This was rather…uncomfortable and bizarre. Shaking her head, she tried to get used to the sensation of having curled hair, and couldn’t quite get the hang of walking in heels. Nevertheless, she did give off an air of power.

“Come,” Xenestii offered his hand. “We have a media to impress.”

Walking the Empress down to the lavish dining hall with its double tables and already seated guests, Xenestii felt joyous. Very much so. Like a father taking a daughter to a wedding, Xenestii almost felt a bit sad to watch this girl that he had raised for nearly a decade go off to be the Autocrat of the fatherland he loved so much. She would have to forge her own path, one day, without his guidance, and he felt a bit scared for her. However, he also felt a sense of pride and completion, and knew that his dreams of restoring the monarchy were coming to fruition.

The Monarchy is returned.

Southern Yalos, Communist/Fascist Disputed Area
Svovakta’s First Guerilla Division

Svovakta sat by the campfire, smoking, drinking and trying to sleep. None of these was going particularly well for him. He had a stub of a cigar left, only a few drops left in his bottle, and his eyes were wide awake with wonder and anticipation. Tomorrow was going to be the day, he knew, and there was no sleeping for him. While his comrades in the people’s revolution slept around him, huddled and warm, Svovakta knew that his plan was going to put hundreds of lives at risk. But it was necessary. The people of Yalos had to be liberated and freed. Free from the chains of capitalist oppression, but also free from the fascism and despotism of the rising Eyuka. To be completely honest, he was afraid, indeed, afraid of her. Communism had to win here, he thought, or Yalos, as a nation, would fall into decay.

Getting up, Svovakta ambled over to where Opik, the new guy, was standing guard, and tapped the drowsy watchman on the shoulder.

“Hey. I can’t sleep. I’ll take your guard shift.”

Opik nodded, and shambled off with his rifle hanging over his arm, swaying back and forth as he walked.

Svovakta had been a Xenestii. He had been a member of one of the wealthiest and most prominent families in Yalos. He had had it all. But, he knew that something was wrong. His brother, Dkkt, was running around with megalomaniac dreams of grandeur and monarchy, but Svovakta knew it was folly. The Yalosii people needed Marxism.

Yalos had always been a weaker, smaller nation, indeed, and had a history of foreign oppression and colonization. If the world was to become Marxist, Svovakta reasoned, the Yalosii people would finally be free. They would be free of foreign oppression. They could rise to their feet and become equal citizens of the world. Was this so wrong? Was it so wrong that Svovakta and his comrades had to fight for this dream?

His army numbered in the thousands. He had a formidable militia. He had rocket launchers, assault rifles, even tanks. Years of struggle left Svovakta with an army of seasoned guerillas and soldiers. Veterans, all of them, and they all of them were driven by a desire to save the fatherland from the machinations of capitalism and imperialism.

He sat upon the hill, and pulled at the grass, tying daisy chains in silence. In fact, for so long that before he knew it, the first glorious rays of the radiant sun began to shine into his eyes, and in the distance, a Destrirhork roared, signaling the start of the new day. Kissing his Cross necklace, Svovakta got up, as to return to the main camp. The attack was going to commence soon.

Thousands of fighters slowly paced through the dense undergrowth, their Kalashnikovs raised to their eyes as they moved, silently and professionally. A massive line of fighters, several miles long, stretched across the great forest in a large sweeping movement with reserve bands lurking behind to reinforce any positions in danger of crumbling. Dressed in green, painted with the colors of the leaves, and keeping low profiles, the Communist fighters remained undetected.

Coming to the edge of the forest, the fighters halted, passing out old shovels and spades. Breaking the dirt, the communist fighters began to dig. Dig, dig, and dig more, dig foxholes and trenches and other defenses. Set up makeshift earthwork bunkers and passageways. They dug for the better part of the morning until the first tell-tale rumblings could be heard.

Tanks.

The Fascists had arrived earlier than anticipated, Svovakta lamented. Still, they had some defenses set up, so perhaps…perhaps it might be possible to try to hold the line. Through his binoculars, he could count, ten, eleven, no, fifteen tanks with a few hundred infantrymen in support. Was it worth it? If he was forced to pull back, the Communists could lose the Yeina Province, but fighters weren’t expendable either.

A fascist missile answered this question for him, blowing a massive hole in the middle of the line. Two men were torn apart and those nearby scattered in panic. Svovakta bit his lip, and ordered the men to hold. If he pulled out now, it could devolve into a disorganized rout. He would have to trust his numbers, and limited number of anti tank missiles, which he desperately hoped had been set up throughout the line. Let them come. He would drive them back.

As the rifles barked and tank shells tossed massive plumes of dirt into the skies, Svovakta remained steadfast. As his men began to fall, few by few, and the fascists kept coming, wave by wave, Svovakta kept his eye of the flow of the fight. Missiles screamed, pounding men, tanks and trucks into oblivion and the sounds were…loud.

by **Yngen** » Sun Jun 29, 2014 7:27 pm

Ju’tozzo, le Palais Royale
Dining Hall

The Princess of Yngen sat and watched as this young Eyuka entered. The girl was young, very young, perhaps 7 years less than Takara at twenty-two, and Takara was considered a stripling by most. The girl seemed confident and she was dressed in the trappings of power, only a slight wobble betraying her inexperience with the fineries of state.

Takara, in contrast, was wearing an elegant black-and-gold kimono, her hair piled high on her head. Next to her, Avery was dressed in subdued scarlet shinobi shōzoku, looking demure and subdued next to her monarch. Takara sipped at the champagne, whilst Avery took only the occasional draught of water, her eyes keen beneath the thick mane of red hair - the two a stark contrast, one languid, black haired and olive skinned, the other pale, alert and redheaded.

by **Doppio Giudici** » Sun Jun 29, 2014 10:42 pm

Peoples Liberation Front Secondary Headquarters
Failed Republic Florence
Old Florence Training Military Training Site

Darkness had fallen on the site and the company was sorted, the supplies set in place for the campain to come. All of the soldiers and soon to be soldiers watched as Operator Saul stood on the stage in full battle dress. A series of screens, cameras, speakers, and a microphone were rigged together about a year ago, this was the place where officers would draw support for their campains. Right now he already had his manpower, but Saul prefered to give a speech anyways.

"This is the moment." He started "Where I or some other officer would speak about the glory or goodness of his or her campain. There will be little glory in combat, and I am not sure if we will ever be completely clean during any part of this. Yet, if we don't go we're going to have far more weighing on our hearts. We have to do something, no matter what might happen."

He paced and looked at all of them, clutching weapons to their makeshift uniforms. He bit his lip and swallowed, which echoed through the speakers.

"This is something I am willing to do for faiths sake, I have little other to gain if this goes well and everything to lose if it gets bad." He went on, a hand on his chest. "But I didn't come into this world and sit still as a boy, while they drove a needle into me to draw an ax on my chest, just to let fucked up people hurt innocent civies. I had that tatoo touched up every time I grew, just like every other man like me. I came into this world to fight, I came here to die if need be. Are ready? I said are you ready!"

"Yes!" They replied to him

"Then it is time to make an example and set it for the world, just because my people are tied up making an example of others doesn't mean we can't make traitors pay for their sins today!"

A group of men dressed and armed like him, faces covered in brutal scars nudged a man onto the stage. His hands and feet were bond like a slaves, there was fear in his eyes.

"This man, has been convicted and proven guilty of rape, along with two counts of murder." Saul explained "Now what is the punishment for these charges? I heard it's death by firing squad back home and that it's hanging here. Why do you think that is?"

He tossed his mic into the crowd and one of the soldiers caught it.

"I-Its to punish them for their crimes?" A woman attempted to answer

The sergeant of her squad reached for the microphone and she handed it to him. He breathed in and gave more of their answer.

"To make an example of them?" He said in a gravelly voice

Operator Saul nodded and reached for his microphone, which was tossed back to him.

"Yes, to make sure that others are to afraid to do something stupid." Saul confirmed "The quicker and harsher punishment is for murder, the harder it is to get away with it, the less murder there is in a given area. If we hear about racial or sexual violance, we will punish it. If we hear about forced starvation or trafficing, slavery even, we will punish it. That is why we must make sure that first predators of any nature are killed harshly and quickly, then they are hanged to warn others."

He pulled out his sidearm and shot the convict in the face without hesitation. The body fell forward and slumped onto the stave, bleeding all over it.

"Muffify him and hang him as high as you can, from a spare flagpole if you must."

The Operator passed the mic to one of the scarred men beside him.

"A modified transport vessel is ready, along with updated M113A3s in place of your own old ones." The intimidating figure stated "I think it's time that we begin this campain now, before another guilty person goes free to hurt again."

The Next Morning
Southern Yalos

At the safest point to deploy in the south there is a beach, Saul was aware of that and saw to it that his forces were deployed. Their Mini-14s were replaced by CR-23s and their RPGs were given Tandem HEAT warheads. His additional platoon of unspoken of men made up a series of heavy weapon squads. Some of them packed RPG-29s, some with two 9K34s, and some carried PK machine-guns. His whole platoon used reinforced and rearmed GAZ Tigrs, with mounts to accept each of the weapons. Overall the cost on this operation was higher then normal, but it was really going to matter.

It was only a matter of time before they were caught or things got bad, so preparations to dig in two miles from the cost were began right away. The ship sailed away, in it's cargo was shoes for sale to cities in the south. It had papers and everything, there was space for over six kilotons of shoes. Sandbags were made, trenches dug and tents set up. The entire camp was made out of a large fox hole, with the dirt thrown outside of it to make a wall. Half of the supply trucks were completely empty and their was a lot of them, so many that several were made into temporary shelter for the ground forces.

Men and woman stood guard, covered in WA markings and with signs set up to make it look like a medical camp. Anyone who came in was to receive treatment and not be turned away regardless of who they were. Everyone was worried, most of the weapons were hidden. The M113s were dug in and tarps were set over them, some of the sandbags were put on the nets to hold them down.

by **The Great Korean Empire** » Mon Jun 30, 2014 6:07 pm

Ju’tozzo, le Palais Royale
Dining Hall

Korea had been abuzz with the regime change that had occurred at Yalos. There had been suggestions from some of the younger members of the government that Korea should improve it's notoriously chilly relations with the previous government and it's foreign policy. Obviously many of the senior members of the federal council had smashed down the attempt and it seemed both nations would continue to glare at each other from across the seas. However the crowning of the new Empress had changed all that. A fellow monarchy would be more easier to work and negotiate with in order to form a beneficial relationship between the two powers. And that was why the Emperor had decided to make a change in his schedule after he had received his invitation.

Emperor Lee Hyunsik watched the Eyuka Empress with his dark blue eyes as she walked out into the dining hall whilst sipping his champagne. He was careful to notice any details he could just by looking at her. She was young, quite young indeed. But he himself didn't have the rights to say such a thing being a mere fledgling nineteen years old. However despite her apparent young age she had a aura of confidence and power. That was good and doing background info on her proved that she had been taken off the street, a former thief. That and a slight stumble here and there whilst walking. This would hopefully give her good characteristics for the sake of the people of Yalos as the girl herself must know how hard life is on the streets and in the countryside. She had a aura of beauty despite her young age with red, flowing hair. However there were some rumors about how she was a bit...self-absorbed to say at the least, but that was waiting to be confirmed.

There had also been reports of Korean citizens that had been visiting Yalos being mistreated by the police and some who spoke Yalosii had reported being called "barbaric filth" and that was the kindest of the insults said apparently. Hmm that did disturb him a bit. A bit too much. When he had heard the news he was displeased to say the least on such actions. The foreign policy of his father had dictated that an attack on a single Korean citizen was tantamount to an attack on the Empire of Korea itself. Thankfully it had never gotten past vulgar language or things would have gotten complicated to say at the least. While the Eyuka Empress herself was wearing a sparkling dress with straps on Lee was dressed simply in a black suit with a blue tie. He usually didn't like wearing extravagant clothing on many events and like the other times this was one of them.

by **Yalos** » Mon Jun 30, 2014 6:13 pm

Southern Yalos, the Beaches
The Zeikla Nomadic Tribal Lands

The unmistakable clip-clop of horse hooves pounded in the far off sunrise as the People's Liberation Front set up camp on the beaches of Southern Yalos.

Hundreds of horses, powerfully built warhorses native to the Southern Plain lands, played mount to a number of exotically dressed, dark skinned men with red sashes, loose beige trousers and face masks covering their otherwise naked and dark skinned, lean bodies. Many held long, curved cavalry sabres; others assault rifles and jagged lances. Whooping, yelling and hollering, this outlandish group approached the headquarters of the People's Liberation Front.

Coming to a halt several hundred meters away from the first of the trenches, the men dismounted, and whispering words of comfort to their steeds, began to approach the People's Liberation Front encampment, the unmistakable Sickle and Hammer flag waving from the largest man's spear, fluttering in the cold beach air. Their masks hid their emotions, and only the tensing of their muscles could betray their feelings. These men were not the typical, Ethnic Sino Cultural that had been associated with the nation. Indeed, not at all. These men were the Zeikla Horse Nomads.

"Jeiikaa-taa, Ueikooshrevituoy, Nasakahal tok-tok." One of them angrily muttered. Pacing far ahead of the group, he began to shout at the beach soldiers, as his compatriots tried to hold him back.

"Kuukkuiol Soma Yavaya," they pleaded.

"Jeiikaa-taa, Ueikooshrevituoy, Nasakahal tok-tok." He repeated, waving his hand excitedly and broadly over the encampment. He took his rifle from around his shoulder, and in his wrath, dropped it onto the sands. Whistling, the man mounted his loyal steed, and began to ride off, making a number of hand gestures that elicited angry sounds from the men waiting.

The rest began to argue, while a large, white skinned man dressed in, what appeared to be a conventional military uniform, approached the Beach Fortifications, his hands upraised in a pledge of peace. Wiping his brow with a handkerchief, he took a few moments to collect himself, and his eyes wincing against the glaring suns, directed a question at those present.
"Hello, all. Are you chaps from the World Assembly?" he queried, "We could use some medical assistance."

by **Doppio Giudici** » Mon Jun 30, 2014 9:20 pm

Southern Yalos, the Beaches
The Zeikla Nomadic Tribal Lands

Several guards stood up alert, wearing blue PASGT helmets and vests over their woodland BDUs. One of them, who was wearing glasses and seemed to a little more alert, stepped forward to inspect the fellow in question. He glanced at the make-shift flag and then looked at the rest of the group. After a few seconds he lifted his radio to his mouth and it squacked.

"Get the medical and security teams ready, we have some possibly unruly patients coming in." He muttered into it, before moving his eyes to glance at the stranger "By all means, send in your wounded. Preferably with minimal escort, one man or woman to watch over each wounded. Please do not lift up your weapons at any times and keep all drugs off the medical camp. If you need someplace to rest or something to eat, they will be provided so long as you make use of our materials while under our protection."

He stepped over to the side and gestured for them to come in.

"By the way, if any of the other factions come by." He added "It would be best that you kept a low profile and kept quiet, do your fighting someplace else."

Ju'tozzo, International Airport

High above what was soon to the capital city, a private jet soared towards a safe landing spot at the International Airport there. Perhaps they wouldn't care to much and would let it land, perhaps they would make a big deal about it and wouldn't. Regardless of what happened, the right people were informed in the new state who was coming and why. High Prince Richard glowed in his seat, sitting next to Duke Leto's first born. High Prince Richard had served in several campaigns in reconquering the Birth-Land, one of the holiest wars ever undertaken by his people. Duke Leto had quickly risen to his place of power, by being the fourth generation of a capable military officer family.

With military renown, came political power, and with political power came control over the military. Duke Leto's doctrine papers had changed the way war was waged by Vadia, which took up around 45% of the NTA's military forces. Duke Leto was not far from being the second most powerful man in Vadia and High Prince Richard was soon to be Emperor. With multiple wars under their belts, success in the private sector, acclaimed papers on waging of war, and proven devotion to the Enlightened One; their future political careers were made. That is why Xecis was sent along with High Prince Richard, because Leto was to busy on the frontline to teach his son what he needed to know.

Richard had served plenty of wars for his age, enough to make himself the heir in fact when he was born with nothing to his name. Richard was raised in one of the hundreds of orphanages that took in the battered remains of the endless wars of survival that plagued Vadia long ago. He was well aware that his father and mother were probably gassed long ago by one of the peoples that were later crushed under the heel of the Great Vadian War-machine. He was friendly, he was generous, but when it came down to it he was clean and he cut deeply.

"Do you think this will go well brother?" Xecis asked worried "Do you think that we will be able to learn who these people are and what they want? I'm afraid they will grow envious of our own peoples' military history, of how complete governmental control over the land has been for almost a thousand years."

"It is likely." Richard replied "Very likely comrade, considering what the past has shown. Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, I must prove myself to my father and earn my place like you did for yours." Xecis explained "Just because I was born blue in the blood doesn't mean I get my place for free. I'll have to bruise for it, but that is what boys do?"

"Climb trees, get bruised; very much so." Richard confirmed "I think with you by my side we should manage to not offend anyone, no? Did you bring your gaming system?"

"Yes brother, I should.." Xecis breathed because he was tense "Manage to seem a bit less of a nerd then I am. I hope my time with paintball has roughened my edges. Are you sure about your dress, without robes?"

"I'll wear a solid workingmen's suit, with each and every one of my medals on it." Richard responded "Do you like your tuxedo and the pin your father gave you?"

"Yes, it's a shame you have to go in without your sacred combat knife." Xecis muttered "Can I see it?"

Richard pulled it out and calmly passed it to the boy by the handle.

"Radical, so completely...radical." Xecis exclaimed "Is it true that it was dipped in the Vita and dust with the ashes of martyrs?"

"Yes, along with being forged from ceramics and stained with the blood of cultists." Richard finished "I think it's time that we pray before we land. It's going to be only ten minutes more."

The two of them quietly prayed in the language of the birthland, taught to them as babies.

by **TurtleShroom** » Mon Jun 30, 2014 9:33 pm

Tagged for E-Mail notification. I want in!

by **Nerotysia** » Wed Jul 02, 2014 8:27 am

Shynsk
The People's Federation of Nerotysia

Anya Rusakova, President of the People’s Federation, was not often totally surprised. Even when she was surprised, she rarely showed it. But the news from the rather large nation of Yalos had left her simply dumbfounded, and her face showed it.

“Madame President?” asked an aide nervously. She wasn’t used to seeing the formidable woman so baffled.

“Are these reports up-to-date?” Anya finally asked, still scanning the papers in front of her. Manila folders were almost continually deposited onto her desk every day, but rarely did she study one as attentively as this.

“Yes. An emergency meeting of Parliament has been called. The Council of Ministers wants a meeting with you to discuss the situation.”

“Alright. Give me a few moments.”

Coincidentally, the Council of Ministers had a new meeting room. It had just been finished, actually. This would be the first meeting of any kind to take place in it.

Unlike previous meeting rooms, this one was arranged similar to some sort of amphitheater, with rows of seats arranged in a semicircle around a central floor. A small podium stood in this floor, as well as an isolated desk, which sat off to the side. This desk, facing the podium with its side turned to the rest of the seats, was where the President would observe and comment on the meeting.

And this desk was where President Rusakova found herself early that morning, shuffling yet more papers and waiting for Nerotysia’s many Ministers to file in and find their seats. The attendance of so many Ministers was, in fact, a formality; the Minister of Agriculture was unlikely to have anything to offer in foreign crises such as this. President Rusakova was more interested in what one particular minister had to say; Boris Arshunev.

Boris Arshunev was a tall, wide, imposing figure crowned with a neatly combed mane of jet black hair. His face was set in hard lines, with low cheekbones and a wide jaw. He had been the image of Nerotysia’s military for many years, as much of the recent flourishing of the military was orchestrated by him. He was the indisputable master of Nerotysia’s armed forces, and as such a very good Minister of Defense. He was the first to speak.

“This will be a briefing of Nerotysian military capabilities, with regards to the current situation in Yalos,” Boris announced. “Firstly, a briefing on the situation. Earlier this week, a teenage girl claiming to be royalty and her co-conspirators seized power in Yalos, with the support of the nation’s armed forces. Most analysts predict that the girl’s rule will be oppressive, imperialistic, and paranoid, in the tradition of past and present monarchies. There is significant opposition to her rule, however; in the south a strong communist movement seeks to free the people, and seems to have some military capabilities. As such, I would propose that our best method of entry into the situation will be supporting this movement. The southern rebels may be crushed without assistance, and so I will elaborate on my proposal.”

He cleared his throat, shifting the sheets on the podium.

“Nerotysia will immediately send significant aid to the southern rebels. This will include; weapons, specifically a supply of AK-81 rifles, since according to my information they are superior to the older Kalashnikovs the rebels are using. In addition, the rebels seem to lack any sort of armored support, so I propose we supply a steady stream of Zykov-III main battle tanks, along with a small number of IFVs. All ammunition, fuel and other etcetera required to use this weaponry will also be provided. Finally, Nerotysia would provide a substantial amount of non-combat military advisors, who would not only advise on strategy and tactics but also assist in training the rebel army to use the weaponry we sent them.”

Boris finished with an inquiry – “Questions?”

Anya was the first to speak. “Do we need Parliamentary approval?”

“No, madame President. However, to engage in combat we would.”

“Lovely.”

No further objections or questions were raised.

International Waters
Off the Coast of Nerotysia

Miles away from this quiet political meeting, the hulking figures of Nerotysian warships were ready to do their masters’ bidding. The sixth fleet of the Nerotysian navy was one of the newer ones, and as such Vice-Admiral Veniamin Kintsel was one of Nerotysia’s newer admirals. Nonetheless, he had been chosen to helm Nerotysia’s first real foreign military deployment.

This fact was still unbeknownst to him as he stood on the bridge of the flagship FS Kosaryov that day, admiring the majestic supercarrier’s gleaming runway and preparing to coordinate the fleet’s next exercise. He was about to find out at the end of an officer’s tapping hand.

“Vice Admiral, sir, there has been a development,” pestered a voice from behind him. Kintsel turned sharply, at which point the officer promptly clicked his heels and saluted.

“At ease. What is it?” Kintsel asked.

“New orders from Central. We are to deploy to Yalosi waters and escort a fleet of supply ships. The first and fourth will be assisting us.”

This was new. Kintsel had been expecting new orders with regards to the situation in Yalos, but he hadn’t expected deployment. However, he would have time to analyze the decision later. For now, he had objectives.

“How far to Yalos?”

“Approximately three days, sir.”

“How long until the supply ships reach us?”

“Approximately eleven hours, sir.”

“Alright. The first and fourth are closer to Yalos, correct?"

“Yes.”

“They can go ahead. We will be just behind them. Inform the fleet to ready for movement.” And war, he thought to himself silently, we might as well prepare for war.

The People's Federation of Nerotysia
Official Communique
Public Announcement

The People’s Federation of Nerotysia hereby condemns the false new monarch that has currently corrupted the nation of Yalos. Said monarch and her supporters are nothing more than illegitimate relics from a long-lost era, and the People’s Federation recognizes them as such.

Therefore, the People’s Federation hereby declares its intent to rid Yalos of the monarchy, and to do all in its power to ensure a righteous government assumes power in that nation, one which will protect and provide for its people through a socialistic means of governance. The People’s Federation will also do all in its power to support the courageous elements within Yalos which are currently pursuing that heroic goal.

This is, however, not a declaration of war on said monarchy, for reasons twofold. Firstly, as previously stated, the monarch and her allies are not the legitimate rulers of Yalos, and as such to declare war on them would be to declare war on a phantom entity. Secondly, the People’s Federation would like to preserve peace for as long as possible, and so refuses to go too far.

However, if it is deemed needed, the People’s Federation will not hesitate to openly combat with the monarchy and its allies in order to protect Yalos’ best interests. As of this declaration, the People’s Federation recognizes only an anarchy where the Yalosi government used to occupy, and as such will not recognize any claims made by any organization to prevent Nerotysian deployment of troops and resources to the anarchic area. As of this declaration, said troops and resources will be used only to maintain peace and assist the aforementioned elements in the Yalosi vacuum, not to personally combat.

Signed,
The People of Nerotysia, As Represented By,

Anya Rusakova
President of the People's Federation of Nerotysia

Dmitri Laskoy
Prime Minister of the National Parliament of Nerotysia

Nikolai Vesker
Supreme Chancellor of the State Council of Nerotysia

by **Delmonte** » Wed Jul 02, 2014 4:21 pm

The Chancellery of Foreign Nations
Of the Most Serene Republic and Grand City of Delmonte

"In Bellum Pax; Per Pax Prosperitatem."

Addressed to the People's Federation of Nerotysia; Dear Sirs,

Allow me to make myself abundantly clear on this issue. Yalos is a sovereign state with a sovereign ruler. If you acknowledge national sovereignty, as you claim, you will not land anything on their shores. Yalos was Delmonte's ally before the Empress took power and she is Delmonte's ally now that the Empress has taken power. We forbid you from intervening. If you send ships, we will sink them. And I assure you, our navy is quite impressive. What's more, if you take any action in Yalos whatsoever (including peace keepers which, really, are just soldiers) our private military contractor, the Security Syndicate of the Black Plains, has announced that they would be more than pleased to invade you which, given that that's exactly what you seem to be inclined to do to Yalos, would be a fitting punishment.

In conclusion, mind your own business or you'll have to be taught a lesson. Not liking a nation's ideology does not give you a right to attack them. I don't like your ideology. I think it's stupid and ill-conceived. But do you see me invading you? No? That's because I'm a reasonable man who doesn't do stupid things for stupid reasons. If you send ships or men or anything other than supplies (And trust me, we will check), the combined Delmontese and Yalosi fleets will sink you like a stone.

Sincerely,
Belitrano Bernardini, Delmontese Ambassador to Yalos and acting regional naval commander

The Napoleonic Complex (MT| TG for Entry)

The Napoleonic Complex (MT| TG for Entry)

Who is online