Pandæmonium (MT, Semi-Open, Canon RP, TG for Info)

[New Azura]

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Warning!
This thread may contains of explicit violence, gore, adult situations, language, and suggestive themes. Readers should exercise extreme caution before continuing on. The OP suggests that readers or participants in this thread should be at least eighteen years of age before continuing. Discretion is strongly advised.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls a butterfly."

- Richard Bach

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Pandæmonium

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The Cataclysm Begins...
Fort Vandengaarde Aerospace Defense Center
Colonel William Jay Hargreaves, Commanding
Wednesday, September 15th, 2012 - 5:12 PM

"Lieutenant, are you monitoring those IP addresses for bounce backs?"
Colonel William "Bill" Hargreaves was apoplectic at the sluggishness of New Azura's premier technicians. For over thirty minutes, an unidentified bug had been tracing the Azuran SkyGuard Defense Network, unbeknownst to the IT Department. Even now, with Lieutenant Masher's Advanced Network Defense Team (ANDT) sending counter spikes back through the servers, there was no telling how pissed his superiors were going to be.
"Affirmative, sir," Lieutenant Masher commented briskly, turning to face the rapidly approaching Colonel Hargreaves. "We've got tracking modules going through the encryption cycles, making sure that our modulations aren't impeded. If they got anything out of our system, it must have been superficial. No files have been removed or damaged."
Colonel Hargreaves was beside himself. "What the fuck are you smoking, Lieutenant? An unknown virtual threat just had access to New Azura's most sensitive defensive network for thirty minutes, and you're telling me that the damage here is superficial? What if they planted a computer virus to wipe all monitoring out?"
Lieutenant Masher shook his head. "Sir, I'm looking at the subroutines now: nothing was damaged or misplaced. A virtual attacker got through our safety protocols, but apparently didn't know what to do with the jumbled files. At worst, our networks will be slowed for awhile if he left a virus. Still, our manual servers aren't connected to SkyGuard, so we can still access our monitoring stations and reconnaissance birds for potential launches."
Bill thought about how to respond, but deliberately held his peace. Whether it would look good in a report or not, the incident had apparently been contained by the Grace of God. He'd worry about how to explain himself to General Kenmore later. Hargreaves nodded briskly, making sure that Lieutenant Masher knew of his hot displeasure before refocusing on the AEROCON screen. So far, no external SkyGuard systems had been adversely affected by the incident, though Hargreaves wouldn't count it as a win until all systems were double-checked.
What a day, Billy.
Surprisingly, the Colonel smiled a little at the thought. It was the voice of his late father that he was hearing, speaking to his soul. Bill Hargreaves didn't like to think of himself as a sentimental man, yet he constantly thought about his late father, drawing inspiration from him. Thomas Hargreaves had been a legend in the Azuran Air Force, helping establish the precursor to SkyGuard twenty years prior. If it hadn't have been for General Hargreaves and his leadership, New Azura would be dragging its ass in the dirt.
"Uh... Colonel, sir?" A voice piped up behind him: "We may have a slight issue here, sir." Colonel Hargreaves turned to face the young officer, an Ensign Pettifog by the looks of his uniform. Walking up to the monitor, Colonel Hargreaves was met with a surprising admission: "Colonel, sir? I believe that a few subroutines have been erased."
"Have you isolated the damaged folder?" Colonel Hargreaves asked earnestly.
"Sir, I cannot from this terminal here. The file in question have been completely erased." Colonel Hargreaves stepped to his left, moving to walk around the lengthy row of consoles and computer terminals that were joined together. Heading around the corner, he could see that Lieutenant Masher and Captain Edmund were also moving to view the console at which Ensign Pettifog sat.
After a few seconds, Hargreaves joined the trio at the console, looking at the viewfinder while Edmund outwardly mused: "Now, where the Hell has this file gone?"
"Ensign, look up the file registry in the CODEC. I want to see the real-time registry to know what we're looking at here." Colonel Hargreaves started to speak, then quickly caught himself. When the security alert was triggered, the defense network automatically scrambled the file headers, making it more difficult for hackers to trace through individual files. Unfortunately, with the bug already well inside the network, the scramblers had merely made it more difficult to determine which file was which. The modulations were set to a computer-specific algorithm with no human input: no two scrambling codes were the same.
"Sir, accessing the CODEC now," Ensign Pettifog said with a sour expression. The CODEC was the only network key to deciphering the scrambled file headers. It would give the technicians an idea as to what the hackers were targeting. Outside of sending a RESTORE-BOT through the original network files, there was no other way to access the file header.
Lieutenant Masher turned to face the Colonel, but Pettifog's worrisome shriek drew the attention of the entire room. "Sirs, I don't know what- um, sirs! I-I don't know! The CODEC doesn't have a missing registry key for our lost file!"
Colonel Hargreaves shot a distressing look at the Lieutenant, who returned the worrisome look. It only took a moment of action, and Hargreaves gave the fateful word. "Lieutenant Masher, contact Central Command at McPherson and inform them of what's happened. Send word out to our Political Liaison in Capodimonte, and inform the Consul General. Captain Edmund? I want you to send the RESTORE-BOT through the servers and find out why our files are missing. If necessary, we'll have to restore the servers to correct the damage."
Both Lieutenant Masher and Captain Edmund nodded their acknowledgment of the orders, quickly saluting to the Colonel. Hargreaves returned the gesture, posturing himself to give an overall command. "By order of Colonel William Jay Hargreaves, Honourable Air Force of New Azura, I am placing this facility under Attack Warning Alpha-Zulu. Repeating, we are now standing up to Combat Level Red."
Hargreaves stepped out of the line of technicians and sentries moving back and forth. A buzzing alarm bell sounded out, cascading the room at the same moment in a Hellish-looking amber light. The computer consoles adapted to the new lighting, displaying warning messages detailing the nature of the alert. The Colonel, satisfied with the uptick in activity, walked back towards his command station in the monitoring room. Even before he could sit down properly, the red alert telephone began ringing.
Picking up the receiver, Bill answered delicately: "This is Colonel Hargreaves, Vandengaarde Command Center."
"Colonel?" An authoritative voice boomed on the other end of the line. "This is Consul General Meredith speaking. I've just sent a messenger to brief Chancellor Konica on the situation. Unfortunately, he's out of position right now at his mountain top retreat in Nantahala, and it'll be some time before we can secure his position."
Hargreaves eased into his chair, still cradling the receiver. "Understood, sir. We're working diligently to find out what the hackers were doing in our system-"
Hargreaves was interrupted by the request of Captain Edmund. "Colonel Hargreaves! We're ready to launch the RESTORE-BOT!"
The Colonel placed one hand over the mouthpiece of the receiver, using his free hand to switch off his console's safety override mechanism. With a press of the flat screen, Colonel Hargreaves shouted his approval: "You're green to engage the BOT, Captain!"
Colonel Hargreaves began monitoring the progress of the technicians who were initiating the BOT on their own monitors while updating the Consul General. "Sir, they're beginning to run the Restoration Program now."
"Understood, Colonel. Keep me informed of its prog-" was all that Bill heard, before the communications link went dead. Before the surprise could register, the lights went out in the monitoring room, drawing a panicked silencing of the room's commotion. Colonel Hargreaves tentatively rose from his chair, searching for any kind of explanation in the piercing darkness. Suddenly, a shrieking alarm bell sounded throughout the room, jarring the personnel inside.
What the Fuck was that?
Unnerved, Colonel Hargreaves began to shout out an order, yet was once more surprised when the lights to the facility initialized on there on. The darkness subsided quickly, as the room's technicians began looking at one another uneasily. "Let's get some semblance of order here, people," Colonel Hargreaves finally shouted, trying to grab everyone's attention. "Mr. Edmund, we need our monitors back online, sir!"
Captain Edmund opened his mouth to speak, yet the vast number of consoles in the control room began powering back to life, rebooting as if nothing had happened at all. Up on the main viewer on the control room wall, the flickering screen attempted to load up a massive image file, yet was having difficulty doing so.
Colonel Hargreaves was nervous, uncertain. "What's going on here, Captain? Did we just get hit with a power surge of some kind?"
Captain Edmund was perplexed. "Sir, I don't think so. I can't be certain, though it almost would appear as though the computer network locked us out. As if... as if the RESTORE-BOT was being interpreted as an attack."
"Have they rerouted control to a remote location?" Colonel Hargreaves shouted furiously.
"It doesn't appear so," Captain Edmund blurted tentatively. "I don't really understand-"
"Oh, my God!" Pettifog screamed, jumping out of his seat. "Colonel! The missing file from the network was SkyGuard's Fail-Safe subroutines! The hackers placed a feedback loop into our servers, registering the reboot attempt as an attack on Vandengaarde!"
Hargreaves could literally feel his blood run icy cold. Before he could speak another word, the viewfinder on the main wall began to power to life. What it revealed was heart-stopping: a crystal clear image of the homeland territory of the Honourable Confederation of New Azura, with attack markers blinking throughout the country. From the looks of it, the computer was interpreting that every moderate-to-major military installation and metropolitan area had been attacked by nuclear missiles of varying yield.
"Christ in Heaven!" Edmund shouted. "SkyGuard is running an attack simulation, and the hackers have lobotomized our overrides, Colonel!" Hargreaves was flushed, realizing that he had no way of communicating to the Consul General, or to anyone for that matter. With the fail-safes deactivated, the simulation running through SkyGuard would be interpreted by the country's nuclear release networks as an actual attack.
The Colonel screamed at a sentry standing nearby. "Get to the morse code relays downstairs! We need to get an urgent message out to the Atomic Energy Command immediately before our silos and boomers empty their nests prematurely!"
The sentry quickly turned and ran, dodging panicked technicians as the officers intently monitored the situation, trying to figure out what the Hell was happening. It had been such a quiet afternoon, with nothing major scheduled. And in fifteen minutes, all Hell had broken lose. Hargraves rubbed at his eyes, frightened beyond all reasonable doubt. Even with the morse code relays being in the same room, it would take the AEC almost twenty minutes to get by their own fail-safe mechanisms in order to override the nuclear launch order. The silos would be emptied within ten.
"Captain!" Colonel Hargreaves shouted. "Can you obtain the target of our retaliatory attacks? We must get the warning out for them to prepare, and to get our own population to ready themselves for a counterstrike."
Hargreaves watched as Captain Edmund forcibly removed Pettifog from his terminal, scanning streaming data files with a fervent resolve. Suddenly, Edmund stopped scanning, standing from the console in a shocked posture. He slowly turned to face Hargreaves, and the Colonel frighteningly noted the pale-white face on the nigh-comatose Captain Edmund.
"Sir, it's not a retaliatory strike. The source of the initial network attack was internal. It happened from within New Azura. SkyGuard isn't launching a retaliatory strike; it's launching a preemptive one, and New Azura is the target!
Colonel Hargreaves stared blindly at the ghostly Captain Edmund. Pins could be heard in the vast control room, as an utter, eerie silence overtook the technicians and soldiers. Not a whimper, nor a sigh could be heard over the hushed quiet. Bill looked at Edmund intently before his left shoulder went numb. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through the Colonel's chest as his knees buckled underneath him.
"Oh, my God..." Colonel Hargreaves whispered, before his heart gave out deep inside him, and he knew no more.

[New Azura]

The Cataclysm Begins...
Aboard the HNV Catamount SSBN-1751
Captain Cardiff Abrams Seljuk, Commanding
Wednesday, September 15th, 2012 - 5:25 PM

"Captain, I'm having an issue here."
Cardiff Seljuk, the Wataugan-born commander of the ballistic missile submarine Catamount, astutely stepped beside the lowering periscope, moving towards Ensign Riley's monitoring station. "What seems to be the problem, Mr. Riley?"
"Sir," the young Ensign exclaimed with a tinge of fear to his voice, "I can't raise the upper EM-band on our radio transistors, and I've lost all network access to SeaGuard and SkyGuard."
Captain Seljuk watched intently over Riley's shoulder, looking at the data upon his console. Without hesitation, the Captain quickly walked towards the center of his boat's control room, looking at the Chief Navigator's subset charting table. With the removal of his measuring pen, the Captain carefully plotted the course of his submarine, looking to see where his boat actually was in relation to its projected path.
"Ah," the Captain mused quietly, content with his arithmetic. "There's no cause for concern, Ensign Riley. We're about to move through the Laurel Abyssal in a few minutes. Azuran boomers have had a recurring problem with losing our satellite links going through this stretch of ocean. You should be able to reestablish a connection shortly."
"But sir, I'm-" Riley began, only to be cut off by a weary Commander Johnston, Seljuk's Executive Officer.
"The Captain said not to worry about it, Ensign," Commander Johnston barked roughly before the Captain could put his arm on Johnston's shoulder to silence him. The Ensign, to his credit, said nothing but a quiet 'Aye, sir' to the Commander, yet Captain Seljuk couldn't help but feel angered at the situation. Commander Johnston, despite being the most decorated X/O Seljuk had come across in his fifteen years of service in the Azuran Navy, was far too strict with his discipline, to the point of being a hard ass simply for the sake of being one. Seljuk, though a by-the-book man himself, had limits to the pushing of his crew, and Mr. Johnston was reaching them. And rapidly, too.
"Mr. Riley, continue to monitor-" Captain Seljuk stated calmly, before caution lights and alarms began buzzing throughout the control room. Commander Johnston flinched visibly, yet the Captain kept his composure in the face of the sudden warning alerts.
"Um, Captain," Petty Officer Valaree blurted nervously, "our hatch doors are opening automatically. It's almost like something's triggering them externally." Captain Seljuk shot a worried look towards Ensign Riley, who turned from his console.
"Ensign?" Captain Seljuk motioned.
"That's what I was trying to tell you, Captain," Riley spoke slowly. "We can't access the network, but the network's subroutine processors are active. They're feeding commands to our central computer!"
Everything came together for Seljuk in a moment, and the panic that coursed through his system was genuine; any relief, fleeting. "God, something's happened! We're being fed launch orders, and our missiles are fueled as is!" Captain Seljuk dove for the communications relay, slamming down the General Quarters override switch. "This is the Captain! Set condition 1SQ for strategic missile launch! All stations, be advised; we are under the control of the National Release Authority Act of the Atomic Energy Command!"
Captain Seljuk literally threw the receiver into Commander Johnston's hands. Yet before the Commander could relay the order, a rumbling blast of motion and energy rocked through the submarine's control room, sending those on their feet to the floor. Caution lights began blaring, as a deafening noise blared through the control room. Additional rumblings sent new shock-waves through the boomer, as the crew struggled to get back to their feet.
"Damn it! Our boat isn't fucking ready for launch!" Captain Seljuk screamed, as another shock-wave put him back on the floor. Panel lights began shorting out, as leaks sprang forth throughout the Control Room. "God, damage teams to the Control Room! We have severe leaks spring-Gah!"
Blasts from the seaborne-ICBMs leaving their coops continued to rattle the ship. Petty Officer Valaree had managed to get back into his chair, though the constant rumbling of the ship's hatch releases made it difficult for anyone to hear him. "Captain! All our birds are flying the coop! But the bird in sixteen hasn't released its locks yet!"
"See if you can bypass it!" Seljuk barked, as an overhead pipe gave way under the pressure of the launches, sending it careening into the face of Commander Johnston, nearly decapitating him. A spray of blood doused the Captain, who let out an involuntary shudder of disgust. The boat was in a free fall, diving uncontrollably under the strain of the unprepared missile launches.
Suddenly, Valaree screamed. "Sir, the hatch on sixteen is closing up!"
Captain Seljuk was horrified. "Get that fucking hatch opened now! If that missile launches, it'll impact our own damn submar-"
An intense burst of light flooded the area, followed by the rapid silencing of everyone and everything on board the Catamount, as the nuclear blast from the trapped missile incinerated the ship instantly.

[New Azura]

The Cataclysm Begins...
Ten Miles Away from Cheltenham City, Etowah
Wednesday, September 15th, 2012 - 5:31 PM

"Honey? Are you ready to eat?"
Tom Nixon wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, checking his hamburgers one last time before pulling them off the grill. It wasn't every day that he got the chance to barbecue on his new grill. Even if it was just hamburgers, it was still a treat.
God, please bring out some lemonade, Julie!
Tom's wife, Julie came through the screen door of their small flat, holding their infant daughter Clarice in her arms. Without a glass of lemonade. "Smells good, honey! Do you want me to go get the plates and cups?
Tom sighed, trying not to sound too accusatory. "Look, I'm not trying to be mean, or rob you of the picnic you wanted to have, but it's ninety-five degrees out here, and was out working at the Hamilton Roads Project with Larry and the boys. I'm tired, and I want to sit down in my recliner."
Julie sighed apologetically, looking wise the whole time. "Aw, poor baby. Whatever will your Nurse have to do to make you have a picnic?"
Though he was tired, Tom put on his poker face. "Hmm... not sure, Nurse Nixon. Perhaps you could expedite my yearly physical for me?"
Julie scoffed, slapping Tom hard with her free hand. "The last time I expedited your physical - and it's more than yearly, by the way - I ended up on permanent daycare duty with our little bundle of joy here!"
Tom laughed. "Well then," he said playfully, wrapping his free arm around his wife's waist. "I guess we'll have to watch where I put my stethoscope, eh?"
Julie laughed, leaning her head on Tom's shoulders. Though Tom was often too busy to notice, his wife's hair smelt faintly of tropical fruits. Perhaps the new shampoo? In any event, it was an intoxicating smell, and Tom was suddenly drawn to just how beautiful Julie really was. Even with the fact of her being the mother of his child notwithstanding, Julie's curvature and features were more than pleasing to him. It warmed his heart-
The sudden, piercing shriek of their subdivision's air sirens startled Tom. The loudness of the sirens were not uncommon, seeing as the sirens were tested regularly, yet he still wasn't expecting them. Looking down at his watch, Tom frowned. "It's not even seven o'clock yet! Why are those bastards testing their sirens now?"
Julie took her head off Tom's shoulder, trying to console a suddenly startled and crying infant. "I have no idea. Could we be under some type of storm warning?" Julie said, looking west towards the skyline of Cheltenham, trying to determine if storm clouds were rolling in.
"A storm?" Tom yelled over the blaring air horns. "We haven't had a cloud in the sky since July! Where the Hell is a storm brewing in from?" Julie shook her head, trying to see if she could see anything on the Horizon. Tom turned to face her, yet things suddenly exploded all around him. A pulsating, all-encompassing shock-wave of heat and energy slammed into his body, as a blinding white light encapsulated him. A split second later, a deafening explosion of incredible magnitude forced him up off his feet, sending him careening into a white-hot Hell. He reached for Julie, trying to orient himself as a searing heat began to lick at him. Suddenly, his body collided with something hard and immovable, and his vision went dark.


Slowly, Tom came to the realization that he wasn't in Hell. Not the afterlife version, at least.
For a moment, all Tom could do was take in the thousands of piercing aches that were intermixing with seven or eight debilitating ones. The pain was so intense, however, that he couldn't even muster the energy to scream. "Unnh..." was all that Tom could moan as he slowly opened his eyes. Though he wasn't oriented, he knew that something massive had exploded nearby; what, however, he couldn't say. A pile of broken wood and rubble was strewn all around him, and parts of it were on fire. There was no way to determine how long he had been unconscious.
"Ju-Jul-" Tom started to call, yet doubled over on the pile of scorching-hot debris, vomiting blood and mucus up all over his burned clothing.
God, I'm in trouble!
Trying to clear his throat of its bloody contents, Tom managed to roll onto his right side, wincing inwardly at the incredible pain that he was feeling in his side. Using his hand, he slowly traced a deep gash that ran down his right leg, from the hip all the way down to the knee. The wound, though horrific, had apparently been cauterized in the explosion.
What the Fuck just happened?
Tom rolled onto his abdomen, feeling ribs shift inside his body as he did so. Yet his thoughts were directed only towards the well-being of his wife, so much so that he didn't realize until just then that he couldn't hear anything, and that blood was trickling out of both his ears. Tom attempted to rise to his feet, but the insanity of the pain made it nigh impossible. Somehow, against his body's wishes, Tom managed to use a broken piece of unidentifiable rubble to support himself. Raising up against the incredible waves of pain, Tom managed to get himself up to his feet, noting however that his right leg was severely broken, not allowing for any weight to be placed on it. Tom tried to orient himself, looking out towards the horizon to see if he could determine the extent of the damage... and screamed.
Cheltenham was consumed in Hell. A murky, hazy amber light was filtering through what looked to be a massive, dispersing cloud of enormous proportions over what remained of the city. Skyscrapers had been savagely chewed up along the skyline, as most of the city simply ceased to exist. It were as if God had taken an eraser to the canvas of the earth, simply blotting out the existence of what had once been a major city. What remained of Cheltenham, at least what Tom could see from his vantage point, was a fiery ruin.
Oh, Christ!
Once the realization hit Tom, it was all that he could think of to find Julie and the baby. His disorientation making way for the horrific truth of the situation, Tom scanned the broken rubble of his surroundings, trying to find his wife and daughter. With any luck, perhaps they had managed to take shelter during the initial blast, and were coming to look for him! Maybe they-
"JULIE!" Tom screamed, diving forward off the rubble pile. Less than ten feet from him was his wife's body, badly mangled. Tom hit the ground hard, crying out involuntarily as his ribs shifted internally once again. Tom knew that he was mortally wounded, but that his wife and daughter's well-being was all that mattered anymore. Tom crawled through shards of broken glass, slicing his hands and arms open as he crawled.
When he got to Julie, Tom flinched. Julie's face had been burned beyond recognition. Her eyes had the appearance of being cauterized shut. A piece of something, perhaps a whitened piece of wood or something was sticking out of her face... it looked like a piece of bone. Even then, pieces of bone and sinew were exposed in Julie's abdomen, as blood and intestines pulsated inside her open wounds. Julie tried to speak incoherently, but Tom couldn't understand what she was saying. Clarice, their daughter, was lying less than a foot away from Julie's ravaged body. A piece of glass, or something akin to Plexiglas maybe had lodged in the infant's throat, cruelly taking off the child's head like a candy dispenser. The infant's glazed, unseeing eyes would never see anything ever again.
An overwhelming sense of shock, grief, and anguish passed through his system, and Tom began to scream. A renewed wave of agony washed over him, and his sternum began expunging blood and mucus from his torn insides. Tom settled onto the ground, trying desperately to cover the body of his infant daughter. When the sky around them turned white a second later, Tom thought no more, as the searing heat of the new explosion incinerated them.

[New Azura]

OOC THREAD

[New Azura]

<<System Overload In Progress>>

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<<System Has Suffered Critical Failures>>

+_Insert Command_+

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Incorrect Entry, Connection Terminated

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<<System Overload In Progress>>

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<<System Has Suffered Critical Failures>>

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ACCESS GRANTED

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<<BEGIN TRANSMISSION>>

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<<If anyone can hear this transmission, you are not alone! Repeating, you are not alone! This is HAM Radio Operator "Kohl Fire" broadcasting on a frequency of 177.959FA MHz in Randlemann. The Honourable Confederation of New Azura has been devastated by a massive nuclear attack. We have been unable to reach anyone south of Kiowah Island. There is no word as to the international response to our plight yet, nor any indication as to who attacked us. A radio operator in Deer Park, Checotah Prefecture said that he'd seen several ICBMs fly out of the silos in his region, so it's a safe bet that we've retaliated against the perpetrators.

At this time, there is no word yet on the condition or whereabouts of Chancellor Konica or the Central Government in Capodimonte. Almost all major cities have been hit. Until Central and Commonwealth Governments can restore order to the situation, all civilians are to follow instructions from their local authorities until help arrives. We will try to keep you posted with news bulletins as we receive them.

Good night, and God Bless, Azura!>>

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<<END TRANSMISSION>>

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<<TRANSMISSION TERMINATED / LINK CLOSED>>

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<<GOODBYE!>>

[Rithian]

Nero, Nerka, Rithian:
Royal Office Compound, Military Sector

Missile Operative Jack Rogan was one of the few people in Rithian who knew anything about the outside world, except for the soldiers of course. But the soldiers couldn't really be considered people. After so many sessions of brainwashing and being fed propaganda, they were barely-intelligent robots. Of course, somehow, they were returned to normal (a bit, at least) if their rank advanced any higher than Field Operative, with little recollection of the outside world.

He was born before the Takeover, and had survived the purges of those Haster Quiez considered 'unloyal', having been barely twenty years of age at the time. Now, he was one of a few people over thirty in the whole country, the others also being in privileged positions, as most of the 'regular' people were denied healthcare, although it was rare to catch too many diseases here in the North Pole, and nothing seriously life-threatening lurked except hypothermia and frostbite.

He was watching his screen, bored. Nothing ever happened these days. Just as he thought that, however, a small siren went off on his console and the map flipped through several countries before locking in on New Azura. Red dots, everywhere. "God damnit, what bastard started a nuclear war! In New Azura, no less!" shouted Jack, not even realizing he had just told everyone what happened.

Commanding Missile Operative Revaughn Sacklac jumped out of his chair, and felt a deep pain in his chest. He was as worried as he had ever been in his twenty-four years of life. "Damnit, Rogan! Activate DragonFire and DragonSafe now, Rithian might get hit soon!"

Any other time Jack would have chuckled to himself about the military programs always involving 'dragon' in some way. Did all the leaders of Rithian have some kind of dragon fetish? But this wasn't the time to think about that. He immediately flipped open a glass cage and pressed down a blue button, which popped out a small tray on the side of the console. Within it were four solid cages of metal with different imprints on them, which were used to activate important programs. Digital activation had been banned by Quiez after a virus had been sent into the system a few years ago from outside.

He grabbed the two cylinders for DragonFire and DragonSafe, and shot them into the holes in his console. Immediately, two of the fifty or so monitor screens in the room went from black to colored. DragonFire was a retaliation program which traced the flight path of atomic missiles to see where they had come from, and then immediately target the location for a missile strike. The tracing was already working, and was about eighty percent complete. Odd, normally it took a minute or two to trace the location, even during drills.

DragonSafe was another program entirely. It erected a veritable 'shield' around Rithian of missile turrets, tracking lasers, and extremely powerful speakers, which were used to screw with most missile's internal systems by emitting very low frequencies towards the missile itself. The system was capable of rendering around a thousand missiles entirely useless before exhausting its stockpile of SAMs, and even then, several more could be brought down by the speakers. However, each colony had different amounts of defense. Nerka, being the capital province, held around fifty percent of all the defenses. Since the rest of the colonies were sparsely populated, it didn't matter much to have too many defenses there.

Just then, Roya Malikah, head of Foreign Affairs as well as of Experimental Weaponry, and also Dictator Quiez' personal friend, walked in the door. Looking at the screen, he dropped his coffee, and burnt himself, before rushing over. "What the hell is going on?" he asked, but before anyone could answer him Jack noticed something very disturbing. "Uh, sir.. DragonFire has traced back the missile attack on New Az-"

He was cut off. "That's good. Send a letter to Dictator Quiez telling him to prepare a speech on Rithian's use of missiles." said Revaughn. At least two nuclear missiles had fired off toward their target by now. "SIR!" screamed Jack, "THE COUNTRY THAT FIRED THE MISSILES IS NEW AZURA ITSELF!"

Roya and Revaughn both gasped, and then looked at each other. Roya, being extremely frustrated, ordered the immediate override of DragonFire.

"Sir, I can't do that unless I remove the metal cylinder, and--" said Jack, before being cut off again, this time by Roya. "Damnit, I'll do it!" he yelled, knowing that at least three more more missiles had fired off toward New Azura. His gauntlet was an innovative design, being in itself a remote control. Personally, Roya thought it made him seem completely badass. However, it had other uses, including something very useful at this time. The gauntlet charged itself with electricity, which caused the complete destruction of the system, but turned the gauntlet itself into an electromanget. Both the cylinders flew out towards the gauntlet, and Roya grasped them. He looked at both the screens as they went blank, and threw the gauntlet off. "Put DragonSafe back in!" he yelled, knowing New Azura would likely take retaliatory measures towards the roughly six atomic warheads that had been fired at that nation.

[Wewtlandem]

Unnamed Island 34, Wewtlandem, Approximately 130 Miles from Wewtalongrea, Sea Sector One
Private Property of Thomas Braynor
Classified as a Hermit

Who the Hell owned a HAM Radio anymore? Well, if you were an old hermit, what better was there to do than sit there and listen to other people blabber all day. The weather outside was inclement at best, with rains battering the seas, and kicking up twelve foot waves. Living on an island that was only four hundred yards wide, this was not the most favorable weather. But, Thomas Braynor was a man of the elements. He had survived them all, and so far, his island retreat was a favorite place of his. When the rain would beat down on the small tin roof of his shack, he could lean back and let go a contented sigh, enjoying the warmth of fire light emanating from the hearth at the other end of the shack.

Thomas was leaning over his HAM Radio, sipping a cup of hot chocolate, which was still steaming from the fact that it had just come from the tea kettle just minutes ago. His scraggly beard was jutting from his chin, and as the fire flickered, it gave his shadow an almost ghoulish look when it bounced off of the wall, and then flickered back into the darkness, only to appear once more. Now, he sighed in pleasure as he tuned through the swathes of unwanted channels on his Radio, not having found anything interesting for the day. At 3 A.M. WST, he did not expect to find much, but, he found one station that had peaked his interest. As he flipped onto it, the beginnings of a broadcast could be heard. He settled down, furrowing his brow as the broadcast play.

A look of shock and horror spread across his face as he heard the broadcast unfold, and he that this was not an ordinary prank, but a plea for help from a nation in turmoil. He quickly made sure that his recording settings had been set, as they always had. The recorder was a separate unit, that he always kept on standby, and at the slap of a button, would begin to record broadcast. At the beginning of this particular plea, he had smacked the button immediately, catching all of the newscast except for the first two words. He quickly set his HAM Radio to broadcast, and tuned to a frequency only supposed to be used in case of emergency or distress within the Kingdom. Thomas hit the play button on his recorder, and sat back, letting the message play.

The Royal Palace, Wewtalongrea, Wewtlandem
Royal Palace of King Hank Hill
Classified as TOP SECRET

The King rummaged through his fridge, his robe opening up a little to much as he shoved aside the leftovers, already knowing what he wanted. As he pushed aside a small Tupperware container holding some mashed potatoes, he saw it. He smiled and let out a contented sigh of relief. He pulled his body from the fridge, coming out with a case of Alamo Beer in his left hand. He shut the fridge, and set the partially finished six pack, only containing four beers now, onto the table. He took one of the beers, laughing as he thought of the dwindling supply, and popped the top open, which let out a loud carbonated pop into the quiet night air of the Palace Kitchen.

As he took his first sip of the cool drink, his Royal Advisor, Jo Jack, stepped into the kitchen, dressed in full suit and tie. King Hank frowned as he saw the man, knowing that such formal attire was called for only on a few occasions during the late night. He sighed, and gave Jo Jack a look of hit me with the news. He stepped forward, flipping open his notepad. He wiped a small bead of sweat from his brow, which had accumulated as he had walked a full on brisk pace for the Palace after the message had been received. The King finally got tired of waiting, and finally managed to gulp down the last of his drink. Now, Jo Jack spoke, knowing he had the Kings full attention.

" Sire, at 0315 this morning, a strange transmission was received. Its origins trace back to a country by the name of New Azura. From the reports we received from the transmission, they were hit with a large scale simultaneous nuclear strike, resulting the decimation of their major cities. The state of their government is not known. "

" Well, have you roused our diplomatic advisors, and reached the Supreme Admiral? Have you even made the thought to consult the Communications Agency on a thought of a response to this message Jo Jack? " The King replied in a cold voice, not happy with being roused by diplomatic issues at such an untimely hour.

" No sire, we thought it best that we consult you first, and then talk about other possible courses of action. "

" Well, you have not even thought of the fact that if someone is insane enough to start a nuclear war with a nation classified such as New Azura, then they may hit us. We need the Supreme General aroused immediately, and we need to ready our missile defense systems, and also our anti-ICBM network. "

" Yes sire, of course. What of a conference for you to confer on these events? "

" Have the S.G. and the S.A., and all diplomatic advisors in my Royal Chambers by 0800. I must give the S.G. time to deal with the issue of the activation of our nuclear defense systems. "

Missile Defense Command, Greater Truno, Wewtlandem
Missile Defense Command, under charge of Brigadier General Brody Collins
Classified as TOP SECRET

The Generals phone rang, but it was not the normal phone, it was his emergency line. He immediately hoisted the phone from the receiver, placing it to his ears, and listening intently. He had not received a call on the line in ages, and when he usually did, it was a false alarm, or some other kind of drill for him and his staff, but this sounded real to him. As he hung up the phone, he stood from his chair in the same moment, looking out at the staff that were milling about in the room below him, not having much to do at this hour. He smiled, and walked down the stairs, knowing he was fixing to a rouse them all, and get them all going on one task or another.

" All officers, insert your defense keys, and activate the ICBM defense network. It is time to have all systems up and running, this is not a drill. Some bastard started a nuclear war, and it looks like we may wind up as a target. We need those keys in and the systems up as soon as possible gentleman, and I repeat, this is not a drill. "

The officers stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, and then seeing the glare in his eyes, ran back to their computer stations. They all pulled a small red key from around their neck, and jammed it into their control panels, watching their screens flash, and then clicking a few keys on their keyboards, watching the screen bring up a few messages and notices. Then, within forty five seconds of the Generals orders, all of the officers were standing at attention. The General walked past their screens, nodding. He saw that within fifteen minutes, the whole system would be up and running as a whole, and Wewtlandem would be as safe as possible from nuclear attack.

There of course was still the issue on what the Palace's response to the issue he had just been informed to would be. He did not know whether the Palace would make a public statement, or prefer to keep the matter quiet. Of course, the anti ICBM systems were a silent menace, and wouldn't be noticed by people, but, should the incident be made public, a panic could be thrown into the populace, forcing the governments hand. General Brody decided that he hoped the government keep it a secret, and act responsibly toward the issue. He had been told he would be given further orders after a small diplomatic and military summit in the Palace at 0800.

[GeneralHaNor]

<<If anyone can hear this transmission, you are not alone! Repeating, you are not alone! This is HAM Radio Operator "Kohl Fire" broadcasting on a frequency of 177.959FA MHz in Randlemann. The Honourable Confederation of New Azura has been devastated by a massive nuclear attack. We have been unable to reach anyone south of Kiowah Island. There is no word as to the international response to our plight yet, nor any indication as to who attacked us. A radio operator in Deer Park, Checotah Prefecture said that he'd seen several ICBMs fly out of the silos in his region, so it's a safe bet that we've retaliated against the perpetrators.

At this time, there is no word yet on the condition or whereabouts of Chancellor Konica or the Central Government in Capodimonte. Almost all major cities have been hit. Until Central and Commonwealth Governments can restore order to the situation, all civilians are to follow instructions from their local authorities until help arrives. We will try to keep you posted with news bulletins as we receive them.

Good night, and God Bless, Azura!>>




"What the hell is all this then?"

Prince Lacroix Vanderson Lelouche AKA Major LaCroix Vanderson Lelouche,Commander, 4th Azuran Legionnaires Division was sitting at his desk, in a base camp outside the borders of New Azura

"Can someone Explain this?"
"All we know sir, is that somehow the countries nuclear arsenal was activated and turned on itself"
"Any Suspects?"
"None Sir"
"Technical Malfunction?"
"Not likely sir"
"What's the damage?"
"Major cities destroyed, no Government left to speak of, Regular military forces and police forces wiped out, Anarchy across the barren radioactive wastelands, the usual sir"
"Fallout?"
"Relatively light, Nanotech radiation scrubbers are at work right now, cleaning the atmosphere, with proper protective equipment and lead radiation suits we can begin rescue and rebuilding operations"
"Good, We'll deploy to the Capital city, I'm in charge now it seems"
"Military Coup Sir?"
"Well I am a prince after all "

[The Master M]

The chaotic hive of activity that was the main corridor of Paraiso Joint Command Centre came to an abrupt halt, as a very agitated -and yet somehow still regal- appearing King made his way through, his security cordon clearing a path with silent efficiency. Storming into the Main Command Centre proper, the king noted with reserved annoyance that the occupants of the room barely registered his presence, preferring instead to continue with the complexities of their work. Hundreds of operatives worked away at a furious pace; ferrying documents to and fro, typing away almost maniacally at a variety of consoles, manipulating several holographic and two dimensional displays. In the centre of the room, a vast semi-circular table, which stood in perfect view of the colossal back wall of the room -a wall that was essentially a giant screen-, seated various military and political leaders, all looking as sleep deprived as their regent.

Taking his seat at the centre of the table, the King began almost testily. “Would someone care to explain exactly what is going on here? I have been unable to reach High Command for the entirity of the morning!”

“With all due respect, sire, this problem was not of our doing.” The speaker, brave enough to show the slightest flicker of insolence to his ruler, was Prince Gaius Vastera, Commander in Chief of the Most Serene Navy, and the Kings eldest son. “The satellite communication system will experience limited interference for the next few days, after which it should return to normal. Now, the news I am am about to give is harrowing to say the least: at zero four thirty this morning (Paraiso Standard Time), the Honourable Confederation of New Azura was struck by a devastating nuclear attack. Estimated casualty rate is fifty to seventy per cent dead, with another twenty five to forty five per cent injured.” As the Prince paused to draw heavily from the glass of whiskey in his hand, the wall of screens combined to project a giant image: the satellite feed from one of the orbiting spy satellites. In the twenty three seconds of footage, thousands of ICBMs could be seen arching from various points in New Azura, only to fall in other parts of the same country. “As you can see, the offending ordinance originated from within the borders of New Azura, with several SSBNs throwing their hats into the ring. What caused this is unclear, but what is clear is that what was once our mighty ally is nothing more than a charred and broken wasteland.”

“Has there been any contact from any form of governmental body?”

“Not as far as we are aware. Any attempt to contact the Azuran government have proven...unsuccessful thus far. There have been, however, various short range signals of varying frequency detected from within Azura's borders, presumably some form of short range radio transfers. Our corps within the Azuran Foreign Legion has reported in; in the absence of a commanding element, they are to follow standard operating procedures and move to secure Azura from foreign threat.”

“Where do we go from here?”

“I would suggest informing the Conglomerate, although I'm sure that they are aware. Dispatching forces to secure our broken ally against foreign attack may be a good course of action; I have pre-emptively begun mobilisation of the Second and Third Army Groups, as well as a sizeable amount of humanitarian supplies. They make ready to sail for Azura in three days, with your permission of course,” he added silently, knowing full well that the King would allow him to continue unheeded.

“Indeed, a wise course of action my son. Perhaps dispatch lead elements now, so as to avoid any unpleasant...interference from outsiders?”

Gaius' scared face portrayed a slight smirk. “Several destroyer groups and two carriers groups have already been dispatched, in earnest of your approval. They make for the west coast, and will hold position until ordered otherwise. Their rules of engagement are to fire upon any non-allied vessel that enters Gholgothic waters, as always. We have issued a blanket statement on all known Azuran military frequencies, offering any and all Azuran military personnel and civilians shelter within the Most Serene Republic's borders...”

His voice tailed off, as the live feed from another orbiting satellite encompassed the wall once more. It showed the once beautiful Honourable Confederation, now little more than a burning relic to past greatness. Billions of lives had been extinguished in an instant, but why?

[GeneralHaNor]

Outskirts, Capodimonte, Olympia Prefecture

The Capital of Azura, a once magnificent city, was a burnt and twisted gothic nightmare, a sight Lacroix had never wanted to see in his lifetime, His original homeland of Lelouche had never developed nuclear weapons, partly because they never had a need, and partly because his father was afraid of this very sight. Now that he lived in exile, he was glad the people in charge did not have this capability

"What's the situation?"

A young Azuran Captain who's named escaped Lacroix at the moment was thumbing through some paperwork. "Well Sir, Base camp is established, supplies are pretty low, but we got salvage teams working on that, Water is gonna be a problem, and by that I mean, everything that isn't bottled is contaminated with debris and radiation, we can clean the water sources, but we expect anyone who drinks this stuff will have their life expectancy reduced significantly. Speaking of which, we found survivors...your orders, sir?"

"What do you mean my orders, these are Azurans, set up a refugee camp, and provide as best you can, we need field hospital, and a logistics team, organize the civilians that aren't dead or dying by useful skills and give them jobs to perform, then organize the less useful, but still able to perform labor tasks, like digging the mass graves. Speaking of which, I want every single name of every single corpse recorded for the record, let nobody here be forgotten"

"Sir, billions are dead, you don't expect us to record all those names?"

Lacroix was furious *SLAP* "I expect you to follow orders, this is just Olympia prefecture, we won't be digging up the rubble of every city, the Millions here deserve far better then your lazy whining!"

"Sorry sir, it's just, it's a lot to take in, my family lived in the capital..*tears*"

"I'm sure it's trying on every, I have the personal fortune to be foreign to this land, as such I have lost nothing, but nonetheless this is a tragedy of immense proportion, and I feel your loss." Lacroix comforted the young man.

"However, there is much work to be done, and we can't let ourselves become distracted with this, there is no time for funerals, no time for greiving, we must be strong for those who still remain"

"I understand sir, I'll get right on it"

"Good, and have somebody get me a line to the outside world, we need aid, and lots of it"

[Maychion]

"Holy..." The commander of the escorting flotilla of the transports carrying the Maychian contribution to the New Azuran foreign legion said, his jaw dropped. "What the fuck happened?" He whispered, seeing the mushroom clouds hanging ominously over New Azura. The part that really rattled him was that they were nearly 20 kilometers out.

"Sir! I'm picking something up!" The communications officer shouted out. "It...It sounds like someone, or something activated either all or at the very least a large portion of the New Azuran nuclear stockpile." He said and paled considerably. "They targeted themselves. I'm guessing major damage, extremely high casualties..."

"Fuck." The commander muttered. "Alright, we're here and the troopers are now part of the New Azuran military. Tell them to get suited for a radioactive environment, danger level six." He ordered. They were only 2,500 men strong. True, they were elite troopers, but they were still small in number. "And Dawson, try to hail any Legion contingents. Both offshore and onshore."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Dawson acknowledged. "This is Maychion convoy 'Travesty' hailing all legion units. We are transporting 2,500 legion troopers into New Azura currently to provide assist. Tell us your location. Repeat, this is Maychion convoy..."

[GeneralHaNor]

"Sir, we have a transmission, The Maychion Regiment?, they claim to be in route..should we respond?"

"Who's their commanding officer?"

"As far as we know, nobody yet, but this intel sheet claims they are "Elite" solidiers, could be useful"

"Let me answer them

Attention Maychion Convey "Travesty"
This is Major Lacroix Vanderson Lelouche, 4th Azurian Legionaries. Acting Commander of Olympia Prefecture. You are clear to land ashore, Head to Base Camp Alpha, 72°North, 32°East, I repeat, Head to Base Camp Alpha.

Capodimonte is in ruins, Search and Rescue operations are underway but slow going, Supplies and manpower desperately need.
Over.

[Maychion]

"Sir! Got a message from the 4th Azuran Legionnaires!" Dawson reported. "They're at a camp, designated base camp Alpha, 72 degrees north, 32 east!"

The commander nodded, satisfied. "Regimental leader, are your men ready?"

"Sir, they're already in the landing ships. Eager bunch, they are. May I ask what we're heading into?" The voice of the regimental leader crackled over the comms system.

"You may." The commander replied. "New Azura has been hit by nukes. We're not too sure how or why, but we're heading in to assist in any way we can."

"Solid copy. 22nd Maychion Halogen Regiment is just waiting for your go, sir."

The commander chuckled. "No, son. As of now, you're the 1st Maychion Regiment of the New Azuran army. Now get your gear in order. We're heading there at top speed. E.T.A. two hours." He told them.

"Yes sir. Hanging tight, sir."

The commander turned to the navigation officer. "You got the directions?"

"Aye aye sir, 72 degrees north, 32 east. Sending co-ordinates to all ships now."

"Good. Dawson, send them a response. Tell them everything we have and ask if they would require any more assistance. And damn it, contact any more Legion troops!"

"Aye, aye sir!" Dawson acknowledged and set to work on the response. "4th Azurian Legionnaires, Travesty copies loud and clear. We're coming in with two transports of troopers with equipment and eight transports full of food and water, enough for around a whole army. If you've got any requests, send them and we'll relay them back to HQ. Repeat..."

[GeneralHaNor]

"4th Azurian Legionnaires, Travesty copies loud and clear. We're coming in with two transports of troopers with equipment and eight transports full of food and water, enough for around a whole army. If you've got any requests, send them and we'll relay them back to HQ. Repeat..."

"We've received a response sir, they are incoming, with supplies, significant, but we think they overestimate their supplies or underestimate the position we are in. Advise?"

Yes, Inform them that without A government to finance us, or provide supplies ours will be gone in no time, also inform that we have survivors, alot them and the refugee camps are growing larger by the hour.

Also inform them we need medical supplies, because we have radiation sickness and burn victims on mass here.
And ask them where they will getting all their supplies from, and arrange a continuous round the clock airdrop from such generous benefactors.

Basically we need life essential supplies for roughly 3 million survivors so far in this district alone, Daily for the forseeable future.

I bet there heads will explode

OOC; we should pause for now, I have to sleep and everybody else involved need to play catch up

[Maychion]

"Bugger, bugger, bugger!" Dawson said, each word becoming louder. "We've underestimated their situation. Without a constant airlift, we'll be fucked in no time!"

"You told them we have that much supplies?" The navigation officer next to him said and smirked. "Your literary tendencies have gotten the better of you once again, I see."

"I don't think you're grasping the real problem here."

"Cut the chatter," The commander snapped. "Got a new message from high command. They contacted the Helpers of Humanity Organization. There might be some bad blood between them and New Azura, but hopefully they'll respond." He said, reading the message he got from high command after reporting his situation. "This place is out of range for our transports. They're deploying amphibious assault ships with helicopters. They'll airlift supplies for two weeks, after which a new task force will take over."

He keyed into the regimental frequency. "Major? This is Commander Vastas speaking. Your orders from high com are to protect civillians, aid in search and rescue and to keep the peace. Got it?"

"Loud and clear."

"Send the troops in."

[Castleclose]

Octagon Aerial Situations Room,
Clasdon,
Castleclose


On the screen in front of the people in the room the video played again. It showed New Azura being nuked again. "Well Gentlemen the analysers and tech weenies upstairs have gone over this thing and are 98% certain the attack came from New Azura itself." "The other 2%?" "Margin of error." The people around the desk nodded realising what that meant. "Gentlemen I would like to know what our situation is." Air Marshell Beckett asked the rest of the table. "Well sir our options are numbered. Closaid is looking for a green light to travel and we haven't given it yet. Also the area is in the middle of an international flashspot, we reckon a war could kick up there no time and any substitutional forces would be the match this powder keg needs."

"Well folks I have an idea." "Sir?" "We give Closaid the go ahead, tag along a small Ranger group. No more then 60 so they can claim the cover of aid camp guards except eight are going to be from the vamps who'll use their training to try and snag any military or otherwise useful tech." "Material needs for the group sir?" "Standard equipment and some FIV's. Any ideas on what Closaid will be bringing?" "200 medical personnel, supplies to care for a couple of thousand as well as measures to filter water and ferry in food supplies. About a dozen civilian transports and one Huey Medivac chopper." "One of their choppers? Let me guess Doc Martin is incharge?" "Correct sir. He'll be looking to set up a continuous AFT lift." "Well we can't send any military AFT's so their going to need to rely on their own fleet and COEX. Peelo get on the horn and inform Closaid they have a greenlight with strings attached."

[LOVE DOG]

'A sad day. We will mourn the lives lost on this unforgivable day. ~ Caesar Jason Scotus Lupus

[Wewtlandem]

Royal Palace, Wewtalongrea, Wewtlandem
King Hank Hill and Other Important Staff
Classified as TOP SECRET

The Supreme General and Supreme Admiral sat in the chair, along with a few minor diplomatic advisors. They were sweating a little, but the one that had taken the most of the brunt so far had been the S.G. He had been the one to coordinate and finish the overview of the activation of the anti-ICBM systems. When he had first received the phone call they were being activated, he had been laying asleep in bed, his wife draped over him. It had been a Royal Advisor who had made the call, and he sounded nervous as he informed the S.G. of the events of the night, which had progressed very quickly and soon involved a large amount of the Royal Staff and Military.

As the the people in the room glanced around, looking at the insignias of the Royal Family and other things, two doors on the other end of the room burst open. From the doors, King Hank Hill emerged from the adjacent hallway, followed on either side by two Wewt Palace Guards. He sat down in the largest chair at the head of the table, and both guards stood at attention on either side of him. He looked to the people standing before him, and then sighed. He looked very old, older than usual, and everyone in the room noticed it. He finally broke down, and began the conference himself, addressing the two military commanders more than anyone else.

" What the fuck is happening gentlemen? I am aroused at 0300 in the morning, and then this issue just blows up in my face. From the way it seems, we have quite a disaster on my hand. "

The S.G. cleared his throat, and stood, ready to get his part in the conference out of the way.

" Well sire, the anti-ICBM systems are set up, and our military forces are ready to mobilize should you give the order. "

" Thats good Ronald, but, I do not need the whole military at the ready. I have already devised an ingenious plan to save the non blown to Hell parts of NA, and I have already devised a plan for aide. " The King finished this bit, and turned to the S.A. " George, I need three destroyers, a carrier, and five troop transports ready. The troops are to have HAZMAT suits, and radioactivity meters with them at all times as soon as NA is entered. I want these ships to be readied soon, and I want them heading full blast for NA. "

Admiral George Thompson had not expected his orders to be presented to him so soon. He thought that it would at least be a day or two until any indefinite decision was to be made, but now, he was to ready a small fleet of ships to take an unknown force to the decimated country of NA. As he sat contemplating which ships he would order into the task, he saw the King turn toward General Ronald Drederson, and begin to bark out his half of the orders.

" General, you are to gather 1,500 WPG, and have them ready to disembark at 1600 this afternoon. I want the ships to disembark with a transport full of men, one full of our top scientists and their equipment, one full of vehicles for the troops, and the other two full to the brim with relief supplies for the civilians left in NA. "

With that last order, the King stood from his chair, and turned about, his white shirt waving a little with how fast he turned. The two guards got behind him just as they had before, and as he walked from the room, they pulled the doors shut. Now, the diplomatic advisors stood and ran from the room, beginning to work on whatever task they could think of to keep busy. As soon as they had all left, the two highest ranking military officials of Wewtlandem stood, and slowly walked out of the room. As they walked down the hallway, they gave each other one last look, and both took a different way down the stairs, and out of the Palace, ready to relay their orders to their respective branches.

Naval Base Pelaggere, Pelaggere, Wewtlandem
Mobilization of Priority Personnel
Classified as TOP SECRET

The men had been awoke when their officers had burst into the barracks, barking out commands. The men groaned, they were supposed to have a late sleep today, but nope, now, they were on combat schedule. They were all dressing, and all readying to move for a transport that was in docks. They had no idea what was happening at all, but they knew they were being put on a ship, and taken out to sea. They did not know what kind of fleet they would be sailing with, and they did not know the situation they would be dealing with, but they knew it was serious when they saw men of the Wewt Royal Navy moving on their combat schedules also. One of the men asked his friend what he was sailing on, and he told him it was a destroyer, and that was when the men knew it was something serious.

The men were milling about in their barracks, having been ordered to remain dressed in casual uniforms, and remain in barracks, until they were called out by officers. The officers, even as high ranking as they were, did not have a clue of where they were heading either. They however, knew that it would be serious, as they had heard of the kind of materials and supplies that were coming along on the trip, and they now all sat in the officers mess hall, and discussing what was happening out of the blue. They had been worried when their highest ranking officer told them the order had been received from a General, who was not even the one originally issuing the command, it was coming all the way from the top.

[New Azura]

Pandæmonium
Fort Vandengaarde Aerospace Defense Center
Colonel William Jay Hargreaves, Commanding
Thursday, September 16th, 2012 - 4:00 PM AT

Azura was engulfed in Hell.
Lieutenant Darryl McNaughton scratched aimlessly at the festering wound in his shoulder, noticing with some alarm that the pain was subsiding slower and slower with each dose of morphine. McNaughton, for what it was worth, was the last remaining senior officer left with the 315th Currahee Dragoons. Fort Clearance, the Dragoons' former home, had been pasted by several low-yield tactical nuclear strikes. Luckily for McNaughton and the 315th, they had been on field patrols, thus only being exposed to the yuckier side effects of the blast, like the shock wave. And the heat.
The original three thousand man regiment had been reduced to a weak battalion of just four hundred. Even then, only a quarter of the regiment left alive were capable of defending themselves, and they'd only been able to secure one hundred radiation suits. Even with the RAD Suits, the men would still be taking a heavy dose of radiation, perhaps even a fatal amount. The countryside had been obliterated in the atomic attack, and yet all McNaughton could do was fret over the fallout.
"Order up! We need a status check." McNaughton blew his broken whistle, trying desperately to draw attention to anyone in the area that may could lend assistance. The Dragoon Regiment, realistically a Company at this point, had passed through two small villages that had been relatively untouched by the explosions. Sadly, there hadn't be a soul in sight, leading McNaughton to the unfortunate conclusion that they had evacuated the relative safety of their village to die out in the exposure. There was no sign of life, either visibly or in the radios that they'd managed to procure in Olmsted.
McNaughton motioned for his senior noncom, Nick Pusey. "Sergeant Pusey, we need to get an accurate radiation reading every fifteen minutes from now on. Some of our unclothed wounded are beginning to develop mid-stage radiation sickness, from the looks of it," McNaughton quipped, looking squarely at one of the wounded corporals, Jefferson perhaps, who was developing deep bruises on his exposed torso. "Have you gathered a count yet for the past few hours?"
Pusey nodded sir. "We're holding fast at just under fifty rads an hour. We've actually been seeing a steady uptick since this morning..." Pusey nodded, slowing to compose himself. McNaughton put an arm on his shoulder, prodding him to continue. "... Uh, we might be picking up additional fallout from Shire de Bonn and our missile silos in Kingsland."
"They must have hit every missile silo from San Gaitan to Swannanoa Fields," Private Eisenstein quipped, not bothering to respect the rank of McNaughton.
"Thank you for the pep talk, Eisenstein. That'll be all for now," McNaughton chided him, prompting an even sterner look from Sergeant Pusey. McNaughton pressed again on his injured shoulder through the radiation suit, wondering if the fallout would have any adverse effect on ability to heal. Even worse was the prospect that the open wound would help further his exposure to the fallout.
"Lieutenant," Corporal Mullins spoke quickly, "As the acting chief physician of the regiment, I must make the formal request to withdraw to a more secure shelter. Our suits aren't designed to handle this much radiation for this long. At best, we've only delayed the onset of radiation sickness by a day, maybe two." McNaughton scoffed, but only in half-truth. He knew the Corporal's reasoning was sound.
But where the Hell do we go?
"Sir," the Corporal continued, "We must find shelter quickly!"
McNaughton snapped, "Dually noted! Thank you, Corporal." McNaughton began looking for a pedestal with which to address the senior enlisted who were answering the whistle's call. He eyed an dilapidated Ravex pickup truck, and quickly moved to stand on the flatbed. Corporal Mullins shook his head but said nothing as McNaughton grimaced while hoisting himself up on the truck.
"Gentlemen," McNaughton started. "I know that you're scared. Believe me, I'm just as worried as you all are about this situation. And I can also promise you that I want to find out who did this to us and blast them the fuck off the face of the earth. Nonetheless, we're gonna have to find shelter if we're gonna go out and kick ass for Azura!"
Those that were able to let out a triumphant shout, losing themselves in the specter of revenge, for however brief a moment. McNaughton continued, raising his hand to silence the men: "Look, there's got to be other companies... battalions out there, looking for other survivors too. It'll simply take some time, since we can't pick much up on the shortwave bands right now. Corporal Chester, have you gotten any signals?"
The group turned towards a fresh-faced Corporal, who carried a tattered radio setup on his back. "Sir, I've gotten a few signals from outside the country. The Foreign Legion has taken active command of the situation, but there's only a few companies reporting in so far. I haven't heard anything internally since the HAM Radio report last night."
McNaughton nodded. "We probably wont; there's a lot of atmospheric interference right now that will keep most terrestrial broadcasts from getting through. The Foreign Legion..." McNaughton started, pausing to choose his words carefully, "... the Foreign Legion will be helping us back onto our feet. As long as our foreign stations didn't get dusted, our military will likely be returning to the homeland just as soon as the radiation clears. If they got dusted, then you can bet your ass that whoever did this to us will be feeling their wrath soon enough.
Private Malarkey spoke up. "Lieutenant? What about the Conglomerate, or Gholgoth? Did they get hit in the attack?"
"I don't know about the Cong, or about the Goths," McNaughton said softly. "What I do know is that the 315th Currahee Dragoons have just been given command of this area, and we're going to do everything we can to facilitate the recovery. Most military equipment on the mainland is useless because of the EMP Effects, but if the Legionnaires or our overseas boys can drop our terrestrial forces some hardware, we can have order restored soon enough."
Another, albeit more subdued chorus of cheers rose up from the soldiers. McNaughton had to keep their morale uplifted, since there was no true way to tell if the overseas forces had been taken out. Considering the apparent scope of the devastation, it would be highly unlikely that every overseas military facility made it through the attacks without damage...
Fuck, we could be the last ones alive!
"First, though," McNaughton added, "Corporal Mullins has informed me to the need to find shelter. We're no good to the homeland if we're keeling over sick with radiation poisoning. We need to hoof it to some shelter, ricky tick! Cartographer, what have we got in the area?"
An unnamed private, the chief navigator of the party, began scanning the map. He answered the Lieutenant in a deep, gruff voice. "Lieutenant, the nearest military fallout shelter is thirty klicks north of our position here. However, there is a small village to the south, Hamlet. If we hoof it, we can probably reach the Town Hall before nightfall. They're supposed to have some sort of fallout shelter according to our registry book here."
McNaughton nodded, satisfied with the answer. "Sound like a plan to you, Corporal Mullins?"
Corporal Mullins nodded aimlessly, irked beyond all measure of irritation at the Lieutenant's nonchalant attitude about the fallout. McNaughton simply laughed, hopping off the back of the truck.
"Alright, then! Saddle up! It's time we start down the road towards revenge!"

[Altimaea]

AWAC Alpha Whiskey Niner was orbiting just off the New Azuran coast when its radio officer intercepted a transmission.

"Sir we have an incoming transmission, listening in now."

<<...If anyone can hear this transmission, you are not alone! Repeating, you are not alone! This is HAM Radio Operator "Kohl Fire" broadcasting on a frequency of 177.959FA MHz in Randlemann. The Honourable Confederation of New Azura has been devastated by a massive nuclear attack. We have been unable to reach anyone south of Kiowah Island. There is no word as to the international response to our plight yet, nor any indication as to who attacked us. A radio operator in Deer Park, Checotah Prefecture said that he'd seen several ICBMs fly out of the silos in his region, so it's a safe bet that we've retaliated against the perpetrators.

At this time, there is no word yet on the condition or whereabouts of Chancellor Konica or the Central Government in Capodimonte. Almost all major cities have been hit. Until Central and Commonwealth Governments can restore order to the situation, all civilians are to follow instructions from their local authorities until help arrives. We will try to keep you posted with news bulletins as we receive them.

Good night, and God Bless, Azura!>>

"Log that signal and resend to Altimaean High Command." Officer in Charge Laurent ordered.

"Y'sir." The radio officer replied. A few minutes later a reply came from AHC in an encrypted digital signal.

Code: Select all

Alpha Whiskey Niner
Send message help is on its way tell the radio station to broadcast that a Altimaean refuge station hase been established north of their position on the coast. Any and all survivors will find safe haven withing the 50Km zone established.  Aid well be dropped at their current location to aid in their travels. Over.

"Alright open channel to 177.959 FA MHz and broadcast message, 'Help is on its way, a NEMA refuge station hase been established a few miles south of your position. Any and all survivors will find safe haven within the 50Km zone established. Aid well be dropped at their current location to aid in their travels. Good Luck, NEMA and the world is coming to your aid, God bless."

The message was sent to the operator of the HAM and then began broadcasting through that broadcaster and from the AWACS to any other radios which might be listening. Hopefully they would hear.

[New Azura]

<<System Reboot In Progress>>

...

<<System Restart Complete - Do You Wish to Continue?>>

...

<<System Operating Within Normal Parameters>>

...

<<Insert Password Now>>

...

+_Command Insert Interface_+

...

ACCESS GRANTED

...

<<BEGIN TRANSMISSION>>

...

<<This is Khol Fire, broadcasting on a frequency of 177.959FA MHz in Randlemann. I have an atmosphere report for all who are listening. The current fallout reports from Randlemann indicate that we're receiving about forty-five rads per hour. Some places to the north and west may see higher totals because of the fallout from our SAC bases and missile silos in the Piedmont. Until radiation levels reach less than two rads per hour, exposure should be restricted due to the threat of radiation poisoning. Water from underground wells and taps should no longer be consumed due to the contamination. Stay indoors and away from windows until civil authorities in your area give the all clear!

We have some good news to pass along to you this afternoon: the Foreign Legion of New Azura has begun to respond to the catastrophe, and will be mobilizing shortly to help cope with the devastation in our mainland areas. Also, we've had scattered reports in the region that some terrestrial military forces have survived the attack! A convoy of Sentinels from the Langland area were sighted heading west on Expressway 17 near Monegasque. Our military is out there trying to help jump-start the recovery effort, so make sure to lend them whatever aid you can! We'll keep you up to date if our men in uniform manage to make contact with our reporting station here in Randlemann. We've also received word of a Rescue Station being operated by the Northern Eagle Military Alliance north of our position here. Remember, Azura, that you're not alone out there! Be patient, because help is on the way.

Good night, and God Bless, Azura!>>

...

<<END TRANSMISSION>>

...

<<TRANSMISSION TERMINATED / LINK CLOSED>>

...

<<GOODBYE!>>

[Rithian]

Jack Rogan and the rest of the men were still standing around the console, they had been for over an hour. The rain of missiles had long stopped, and DragonSafe hadn't reported any incoming missile attacks for over fifty minutes, and that one was a fluke because of an old version of the program. "Sir," Jack said, though not knowing if he should talk to Revaughn or Roya, "I believe we should take out DragonSafe to conserve fuel, it takes quite a lot of power to keep all those missile turrets and lasers active." Roya nodded in silence as the Missile Operative reached through a box for a magnet, which was the only feasible way to get the cylinders out. Roya had gone to his office to grab a new gauntlet, and had connected it to the Military Offices.

"Uh, Roya, do we have any Brotherhood Operatives in New Azura at the moment?" said Revaughn, turning to face his superior, though the rank difference was slight enough that it did not warrant a 'sir' or a 'high operative' title. Roya nodded, knowing that before the Serpent War the Brotherhood had been instated in all NEMA countries, though to low levels. The ones in New Azura were surely low in number, and likely relatively few had survived the nuclear fallout.

The Brotherhood was a military section, if you could call it that, of Special Ops soldiers who blended into other countries as regular citizens, and normally lived most of their lives in that country. Eventually, for some reason or another, once the Operative reached 'retiring' age (usually around thirty-five), they would have to go to one of Rithian's colonies. Once they arrived, their fake identity was stripped away and they became a Rithic citizen again, and a new Brotherhood operative was sent back to the country with the same identity as the old one. Eventually, once the identity reached a certain age, they would be 'killed off' and the cycle would stop for that particular person.

Revaughn nodded, and then asked a question most were forbidden to know, but it was needed in this case. "Who is commanding the Brotherhood in Gholgoth, at the moment?" Roya pointed to himself slightly. Brotherhood Commanding Operative was a boring position, you rarely did anything, so you were often given other jobs. Roya had been given Foreign Minister and Experimental Weapons Commanding Operative. "I will talk to Quiez." With that, Roya stepped out of the door to inform his friend of what was needed and what had occurred.

OOC: Sorry that this wasn't very long, I had to go do HW, and I have church tonight after.

[Wewtlandem]

Naval Base Pelaggere, Pelaggere, Wewtlandem
Mobilization of Priority Personnel
Classified as TOP SECRET

Major Trent Porter, the man who was to command the forces to be sent to NA, was standing on a small hill located on base, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He had just been debriefed on the full parameters and situation of the mission, and been given their deployment time. Now, in four hours, his men would be sailing into something that could be potential suicide. He had just been given a copy of the latest transmission of the HAM radio broadcasts that was all of the information the government had, but, it was still something. His eyes had almost popped out of his head when he read the numbers, and he knew that it would be tough.

As he stood out on the hill, the sun beating down, he watched his officers drilling the men, keeping them occupied, and not giving them time to think or ponder about what the mission may be. He smiled as the young men were made to do some of the more, fun, drills that were tasked to the special forces in Wewtlandem. As he wished that he hadn't been tasked with the mission at hand, he knew that it would be interesting, and it could be a chance for him to advance even farther in rank. He was still relatively young for a man of military age, only being thirty-three. He had plenty of time to earn his star, but he wanted to have it as soon as possible.

As he stood thinking, one of the privates in the force to be deployed walked up behind him, and the Major did not notice at first. He stood there for fifteen minutes, waiting to see if the Major would notice him, and when he didn't, the Major finally turned around, the cigarette faliing from his mouth, the smoke dancing gracefully through the air, and the butt falling to the ground. The Major stomped down on the butt, crushing it with the heel of his boot. He shot the private a glare, and he began to speak.

" Sir, it seems that this letter has just come in from Command. They told us that we're wheels up in two hours, not four. They want us to get to our destination as soon as possible. "

" Fucking ridiculous, we're already going soon, now they have to make it even sooner. Well private, tell the officer corps that I said to get the men dressed in skivvies, and get them ready to deploy onto the ship. "

" Sir yes sir. "

The private saluted the Major, and then turned, running down the hill, and off towards the officers lounge. Soon, his Captain would be out barking orders to the Lieutenants who were enjoying their time in charge at the moment. He slowly pulled a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. He was a chain smoker, and even though it wasn't good, he had tried to quit twice, and it just hadn't worked out, he wasn't a quitter. He grinned as he lit the cigarette with his Zippo, one that had been with him throughout all of the years, the battles, the wars, and placed it all back in his breast pocket. He looked off into the sun, and took a long drag from his cigarette, sighing as he exhaled.

[New Azura]

An Official Communiqué of the

New Azura Restoration Government
From the Hand of General Steven A. Harwell, Honourable Military of New Azura

To: Nations of the World, Open Channel
From: Azuran Military Central Command
Subj: Rebuilding of the Azuran Mainland

To Our Honored Recipients:
The Honourable Confederation of New Azura has been the victim of a full-scale nuclear attack. We call upon all nations of the world for humanitarian assistance in this, our hour of need. Past debts have been forgiven, and the Azuran Military is currently attempting to regroup in an effort to reclaim, and then rebuild our great nation. We do not know who the perpetrator of such an attack was; suffice to say, however, they will be punished severely.
This missive has been noted for posterity in the public logs of the Honourable Military of New Azura on September 16th, 2010.

By the Hand of General Steven A. Harwell, Commanding
Let it Be Done, This the 16th Day of September in the Year of Our Lord, Two Thousand and Ten.

General Steven A. Harwell,
Honourable Military of New Azura

[Wewtlandem]

New Azuran Situation Monitoring HQ, Wewtalogrea, Wewtlandem
King Hank Hill
Classified as TOP SECRET

The large series of tents and small buildings had been erected within hours of the word of the attack. The staff of the Communication Agency had been alerted, and had begun work immediately. Now, the King himself stood inside the building, getting every little minute by minute detail of the progression of all involved in the attack. He had not expected to see a military official, let alone anyone of great standing from the NA ruins to make a speech, especially one of the magnitude he had just seen. As he watched the speech, he had felt a tear drawn to his eye, and as the speech ended, everyone in the monitoring station had misty eyes.

The King slowly stood from the chair where he was sitting, and walked down a hallway that connected two of the tents. The next tent was a direct link to the Naval Base Pelaggere, and the forces that were fixing to mobilize there. He looked over the monitors, and saw from the satellites that most of the ships in the convoy were ready to go, with only on destroyer yet to arrive. He knew the exact time the forces were slated to leave. Fifteen minutes from now, they would be out to sea, and heading to help the noble people of New Azura. He had known that there was a reason he felt drawn to helping these peoples, and after that speech, his reasoning had been affirmed.

Naval Base Pelaggere, Pelagerre, Wewtlandem
Deployment of Priority Personnel
Classified as TOP SECRET

Trent Porter took a final look from the top of the hill, before he slowly began to walk down the front of the hill, and in front of a mass of troops. He looked over them, seeing his officers at the heads of the lines, and smiled. He let out a guttural yell, straight from his heart, and the men returned it. The noise was unlike anything any of them had ever heard, and it brought them even closer together, but nowhere near as close as they would come during the approaching mission. He yelled out to his officers, who returned the yell, and turned in unison, the troops following the movement moments later. The officers began to walk, the troops mimicking their every movement. A steel ramp had been lowered from the hull of a transport ship.

The men and officers split up the groups, into groups of three hundred men, and then one by one, the groups began to march up the steel ramp. Once all of the men were loaded into the transport, Trent walked up the ramp, straight down the center, and alone. He walks into the ship, and the ramp begins to raise slowly. The men stand on the top deck, and look out at the ocean, and they can already see the sun beginning to set on the horizon, and all of the other ships of the convoy waiting out at sea. As the ship begin to roll out, the waves lapping out at the hull of the ship, the other ships began to move slowly, slowly encircling the ship holding the troops.

As the position looked, the three destroyers were on the outskirts, with the vital ships, with all of the supplies, and the carrier, sitting in the middle of the formation. The waves out of the port were quite large, coming up to six foot white caps, a side effect of the storm last night, which had been a real kicker. The waters were still stirred up, and the men were nervous that another storm of the magnitude would roll into them in the middle of the ocean, and they would never be heard from again. This of course, was an irrational fear, as the ships were the most stably sound things built by the Wewt Royal Navy, and her corps of engineers were some of the best in the world.

Now, Major Trent Porter had a slight frown on his face. He was standing at the bow of the ship, looking out over the ocean. He was the only one who knew what he and his men were getting into, and he felt as if he were misleading them. The men were horse playing on the deck, smoking, or playing some of the domestic games of the WRN. They did not know that soon, they would be consumed in a living Hell, and maybe even not come out of it alive. Trent was determined that all of his men would remain with him throughout the whole mission, but as the sun set, and darkness fell over the ship, his certainty faded into the night just as the light seemed to recede into the dark ocean.