Crackdown: After the War (CLOSED)

[New Hayesalia]

Osenthest was really a small town, especially before the Zellatian immigration. Populated mostly from the local army presence, and the thousands of Marine Legion soldiers based here at the 2nd Marine Legion HQ and local battalions were the real soul of this little town- at least before the "Little Zellton" phenomenon. The Zellatians here were seen much in line with the usual national attitude: some people thought they were just people looking for a new lease on life, like near a billion other New Hayesalian citizens. Like a huge number, many of New Hayesalian citizens weren't born that way. Thanks to the Garrisson Agreement on civil and military cooperation, and the reasonably loose Immigration Act Admendment, 2009, these Zellatians had a very clear path into New Hayesalia.

Fitting millions of new people into the country was a strain- new housing was admittedly stretched, with demountable buildings not unlike large construction room offices. Thankfully many Zellatians had relatives or friends who could spare them a room somewhere else in the country, or worked for a business with New Hayesalian offices- somewhere they could curl up in a sleeping bag overnight in. It was for many a harrowing few months they had lived, from the short and bloody start, the grumbling tensions before that and the brutal war that had ensued.

On the other side of the field were those who were disenchanted with the Zellatians."Surely if they've already had two civil wars, what's to stop them starting one here?" Would they be welfare abusers or just belligerent drunks? Some people just didn't really care. Is Osenthest it was a bit of all three.

The truck, which had the markings of the civilian company responsible for military catering nationally- Militare Cibus- was a pretty standard sight, and the weekly delivery was basically potatoes and such. Current base security was at State Bravo, which was pretty normal nation-wide. Two men manned the guard house and the rising gate into the Army base, contractors working for Union National Security. Civilians, admittedly, but still fine at their job.

The fake contractor ID tags of the two Zellatians- certainly not a rare sight, nor had they been since 2008, were exceptionally realistic.

---

DOWN THE ROAD, 2MarLeg. HQ

The headquarters building of the Second Marine Legion wasn't too shabby, realistically. Osenthest Army Base had a fairly long history. It was originally used by the Retalimoran Army as early as the New Hayesalian civil war, and before they had conquered it it was built by the then-nation of Mardio. With heritage buildings, now used as small offices for base staff, and lush greenery supplemented by the cool weather and lightly undulating hills- all coated with consistently thick and short grss- Osenthest was a beautiful place. At other Army bases along the coast you could find other elements of the 2nd Marines, but Osenthest was a HQ location for the simple fact that it wsn't quite too distant, nor was it too busy. Having just returned from a deployment to the operational theatre in Zellatian Fruria, Major General Richard Menaius was all too happy to finish his reports, and his debriefs and finish work for a few weeks. The three story tall building didn't scream of a military use, but it was certainly pleasant. His bed would be nicer.

Sitting at his mahogany desk, a flag of New Hayesalia and a flag representing his rank stood at each side of his officer, at the edge of the window. Books and orders lined the walls in cupboards. This General was very clean, very organised, and what some would call a stickler to the rules. Hearing of certain... misadventures... in barracks on the base here in Osenthest had made him quite deliriously upset- or enraged- and he had made a point to call in a Major Tum Bunnel, CO of the company in which the two soldiers were a part of. The phrase 'shit rolls downhill' was sure to be repeated.

Neither of the two men noticed the delivery truck, assumedly on it's way to the mess, as it parked just beyond the trees, on the road. Neither men noticed when it blasted, sending shrapnel and a huge shockwave tearing through the front and side of the HQ and the nearby buildings, some large pieces digging into trees nearby and sticking out like they belonged in a modern art museum. The Major General did not notice when a first piece, 20cm in length, ripped through his heart and killed him instantly; he did not notice the photos of his family on the desk as he slumped over them. He did not notice the way that Major Bunnel jumped over his superior, as if to shield him from the very piece of shrapnel now inside him. Their khaki dress uniforms were bloodstained, ripped and their brown berets fell to the floor- the commander's own taken from the table by a smaller piece of the flying metal, as if it were an effigy.

Upon recovery, what had happened wasn't immediately clear. Despite having seen himself the rigors of combat, the Major was unprepared for this. Despite being unhurt, apart from a strong ringing in his ears and some cuts, as well as a headache like Thor's hammer had hit, the Major was rendered near incapable by the immediate shock. Some shrapnel, larger pieces, had continued efficiently past the drywall into the hall. Another soldier, a Corporal, had been passing through. Despite not knowing this man, dressed in woodland camouflage FEARs and a tan beret, he screamed at him in a primal instinct, like a man possessed, as if he was giving commands to save the CO he had not yet seen was deceased, blood pooling on his table.

12 seconds ago he was fidgeting with his own fingernail and thinking about how he wanted to strangle a certain private he'd now forgotten about. Now he didn't think, just reacted.

It takes only seconds to realise you're in an ambush- but now it was taking minutes to respond, The shell of a truck burnt away outside the office, nearby grass catching with the fuel mixed into it. A number of Army people had been caught in the blast- while it was unclear how many yet, many were unconscious from the blast. The shrapnel had mostly been directed upwards, like the bomb was planted low in the bed of the truck. Inside, more immediate chaos as soldiers brought their mates out through the emergency exit.

Chaos did not reign. An organised response to a shocking event was masterfully made, but it couldn't change the end statsitics. As the Retalimora Fire Service blasted the flames away and military medics tended to those who hadn't already been whisked to the local hospital, and bases around the country implemented higher security measures- indeed, the second highest- it was clear this was no accident.

Thank christ indeed that only one had been killed and not so many more.

But that man was the Commanding Officer, man who had been in his Army for 30 years and was a likely future candidate for Chief of Army, his life stolen by 300 grams of metal alloy and bad luck. "But who in the name of fucking christ was responsible?" was the question on the minds of dozens of soldiers looking for any injured people, and the words of a 19 year old Private with a chest and row of ribbons stained with the blood from his mate now in hospital.

[Zellatia]

Inside the military base was those who had helped the insurrectionists in. A mechanic, hired to help with the repair of the non-military vehicles in the base, a Jon Jolton, was a Zellatian Refugee, but from a completely different era. He'd fled during the second civil war, the worst of all three wars. Not because he had been afraid of the many factions, quite the opposite. He'd been working for Prince Zellontus when the Prince had disappeared. He'd ended up in New Hayesalia after a long trip, and now he was fulfilling his end of the bargain. Pretending to rush up to the place to help the wounded, he dashed past the three storied structure and grabbed the two Zellatians who had set off the bomb in the car. This wasn't followed through all the way, as one of them expired a moment after he got to them. Hauling the survivor on his back, he dressed the man, who had the skin tone of the average New Hayesalian, not Zellatian, in military fatigues, ones he had stolen a week before. Putting him down for a moment, he took the dead Saboteur's tags, ID, and systematically removed all forms of identification on him, before picking up the injured man again.

Jon hauled him to his repair vehicle and took him to the military hospital. However, just before he went inside with him, he gave the injured saboteur some ID tags, saying he was a Zellatian recruit from a family that had moved here before the Insurrection, he was now Private Amherst. Calling out to some people at the hospital,he asked, "Can I get a doctor?! This guy got hit by some shrapnel!".

Elsewhere...
Osenthest was a much larger town than it used to be. A good 1/5 of the population was Zellatian now, something far higher than it had been before the insurrection. Gair Monzearth liked this town. It was a good town. It was going to be his town, eventually. Seeing the smoke from his three story apartment, he grinned and heard the confirmation by his sources that the bomb had successfully killed Major General Richard Menaius. Just as expected. Now was time to move on. Now was time to go to the capital. Booking a flight to a city only a few hours travel away from the capital of New Hayesalia, Revnami, and prepared to get in contact with his men there. They'd have a hunt on their hands...and it would be a good one.

He had already contacted his men in Revnami, and they told him they were ready. It would be quite the show to take down two or more of the high ranking officers of the New Hayesalian military. Then...then the Cabinet. The Prime Minister would die knowing everything was his fault. They would pay for their interference. The war in Zellatia would have been hard, the loyalists would have won. Even he knew that. However, the war would have been an opportunity for a change in Zellatia. The Emperor would have been hardened to the death of his people. Ready to once more ready the nation of Zellatia to the lands beyond. The interference of the New Hayesalians had ruined his and the Grand General's dreams. Prince Zellontus as the co-ruler would have lead to an era of Zellatia expansion once more, more than making up for the losses in the Insurrection. Ruined. All of his plans.

It was the curse that the New Hayesalians had unleashed, they would reap what they sowed. Either they kick out all Zellatians, or suffer. Those that fled were hardened. Over one hundred and fifty million Zellatians lived in New Hayesalia, more than enough to take an island or two permanently when the time came. He'd likely be long dead by then, but it was a dream. His followers made up one fourth of the refugees. The Hayesalians would rue the day they ever met the Empire of Zellatia, or its defenders. Even if he had to carve up New Hayesalia and bring it down from within, he would fight. He would gather like minded individuals throughout the nation and he would break down the vaunted nation or he would die trying.

His final goal was the simplest of all: Split New Hayesalia into pieces, rendering it unable to even defend its remaining parts. Partisans were already slowly getting into position throughout the country. Zellatians, New Hayesalians, and more had flocked to his call in the underground. Once the capital was in chaos, every island of New Hayesalia home islands would have it's hands full dealing with his men, as well as those who simply wanted to take advantage of the chaos. He knew it was in the nature of men to take what they felt was stolen from them...and he was not without this urge. Chaos...he fed on this.

This would be the first step...to revolution. New Hayesalia was not without its abuses. Former nations, marginalized. Peoples, displaced by refugees and immigrants. Hatred burned in the core of these people, even though they pretended otherwise. If he struck right...it would be the beginning of the end of the Union of whatever it was called. He didn't care. This wasn't about politics anymore, as a first reason anyways, this was about retribution. Sure, political change was a side effect, but revolution for the sake of an idea generally had that.

[New Hayesalia]

Supposedly, the New Hayesalian Military Contracting Agency was able to use proper security checks to prevent negative forces from getting into contractor positions, like catering and maintenance. Jon Jolton was obviously one of those types of people who could slip through the net. His play of the hero rescuer, bringing what was supposedly an injured soldier to the casualty marshalling area. A medic, a Captain with a bloodstained khaki uniform, took the injured 'recruit' into his arms and gave a curt acknowledgment to the civilian before moving off and barking a few orders.

CRISIS BRIEFING, PRIME MINISTER'S OFFICE, REVNAMI

In the attached conference room in the spacious office of the most powerful man in New Hayesalia- arguably Greater Prussia- military chiefs, ministers and heads of government offices assembled in the comfortable chairs around the fine table. They were designed to be ergonomic, and provide the most comfort possible, each costing near $2,000 apiece. The need for comfort was simple: prevent long term stress on account of uncomfortable seating.

The view from the office was exceptional. The large part of Revnami, its moving Ring City suburbs, the large and glistening beach with pristine clear waters (thanks to a cacophony of regulations protecting it and annoying locals alongside it) and bright and modern buildings. The CBD was further in from the beach, and the closer one got you could see more 3-6 story buildings, mostly townhouses and apartments, however the occasional tall hotel could be spotted out. On it's own little hill, the Parliament Complex was easily visible in the mostly government district, white and glass buildings outstanding in the bright sun.
The members had been directly briefed on the events at the base, but now they were looking at the damage control associated with the event.
The first protocol was from the Chief of Military, Fleet Admiral of the NHN Garrick Flynn. All military bases were set to Security Stage Delta, the second highest possible. It's definition, from the Military Security Publication:

Likely threat to base and base personnel; only military personnel or civilian staff of certain government agencies (or deemed necessary) will be permitted entry, departing from the base (military and civilian) may be restricted as a security measure (will ideally be moved to secure protection areas). Clearly armed patrols and extensive security measures will be implemented. There will be a likely interruption to normal traffic routes and restrictions of entry into the area of the base.

And across the country security levels picked up. Every airport, ferry and train station across the country were now directing security staff to be particular in their scans. Police- especially in Retalimora's three islands- were now being ordered to carry not only their usual non-lethal devices, and were now strapping holsters for their Model 9 pistols, and keeping shotguns close by in their patrol vehicles. This alone attracted particular media attention. In Osenthest, people were either returning home from workplaces, fearing more potential attacks, in spite of public transportation services now checking intensively for devices of all types.
Headlines screamed out about attacks, unconfirmed fatalities, unconfirmed amputations and possible secondary devices. It was not yet completely sure just how accurate they were. The Prime Minister was caught writing a party memo, signing off on ideas sent in by the Senior Whip in south Zolira. The news of the bombing was of far more importance than the game of politics.

"So does this have anything to do with the Civil War?" Hayes had asked at the conclusion of the first brief. The influx of the Zellatians had not been simply allowed. Names were easily accessed by New Hayesalian government authorities- particularly the Intelligence Corps- on the Zellatian national records. Agencies such as the Signals Interception and Analysis Organisation, Foreign Media Analysis Organisation and most importantly the domestic service, the Internal Intelligence Directorate had all been experiencing heavy workloads. The IID had voiced it's concerns in secrecy to the Prime Minister before about the Zellatian's incoming, raising the possibility of 'foreign agents.' Hayes, while not dismissing the threat, believed sincerely that increasing security around the incoming Zellatian communities would only promote a sense of hostility towards new and at times awkward people.

He hoped that the Osenthest Bombing, as it was now being called, wouldn't be a result of this. Something that would let the Opposition call him out on and delay Parliament for weeks at a time as they bickered like children.

The growing consensus as questions flicked forwards and backwards in the conference room, bouncing off the uniformed IID analyst and military chiefs, as well as Ministers was that something needed to be done. Another suited IID agent entered the room about midway through the conference to deliver a brown envelope to the Prime Minister, featuring the badge of the New Hayesalian Army and the stamp "Top Secret - Prime Minister's Office ONLY" along with the stamped, standard notice of the penalties of sharing this information.

Hayes excused himself from the meeting to read the documents in his hand. They would, by their nature, be considered urgent. One paragraph stood out among the rest.

"The SIAO reports that certain elements of the Zellatian community are involved in conspiring to destabilise governments both provincial and federal. These elements, while unconfirmed, have the potential to use small to medium scale attacks to cause panic within urban centres. Certain names have been listed as to the capacity to Zellatians with these capabilities. To counter this threat, it is the recommendation of the Chief of the Intelligence Corps to employ the skills of the Counter Espionage Organisation, Internal Intelligence Directorate, Signals Interception and Analysis Organisation, Border Security Directorate; and extremely discreet use of the Special Espionage Organisation and the NH Youth Intelligence Organisation. An operational plan has been developed to track and gather intelligence on the names listed in the Annex B. The launch of the classified Operation Stare and the top secret Operation Ensnare (SEO and NHYIO) will be conducted on approval of the Prime Minister."

Needless to say the plan was implemented with exceptional quickness.

[Zellatia]

Revnami, New Hayesalia

Giorgio Zertonni was an odd immigrant to New Hayesalia. Originally from some far off nation, outside of Great Prussia, he moved to Zellatia in his 20's and eventually took a Zellatian-esque last name. He married Zellatian, his five children looked like average Zellatians, and the only looks he got from other people living in Zellatia was a comment on how well he had acclimated. The Insurrection had changed things. Unofficially a member of the FSP, he fled with his family to Revnami during the war, having fled in the wake of the fall of Crystoin. He had settled here, somewhere safe. Then some of the more...unsavory elements of the community had found him. He had debts to be paid, they said, and so he had acquiesced. His eldest son, Zacharie, was also a member of this, bringing a couple of friends to the "gang" headquarters everyday. Through his network of spies, he could tell that someone was watching his men, but he couldn't tell who. Either way, he had a team of hackers all the way in Fruria to take care of some of these information blackouts. It would soon be handled...

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

Point Arrival, West Destronika, Fruria

It had been hard to hack into the New Hayesalian systems, but he'd managed it. He didn't care what those Insurrectionist assholes wanted with the information, but if they were going to pay him several million just to get a couple names and faces, he'd do it until he bank account burst with Zellatian Golden Dollars. Getta Armus was a hacker, a very good one, and here in Point Arrival he was already starting to get a reputation as a big buyer in the town, having personally paid for expansions all over the area. He was starting to become known locally as a real estate speculator, and that business was rushing off the ground as well. Either way, Gold was Gold and he was rolling in it.

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

Osenthest Airport, Retalimora, New Hayesalia

Gair Monzearth smiled as he walked through his line at the airport, more than happy to allow the agents there to check his bags. He wasn't so foolish as to bring things like that with him, he had enough weaponry in Revnami as it was. His face turned to a frown when he was giving his condolences to the security people at the gate. They were almost ready, especially to show what the New Hayesalian government was willing to throw at his people. The New Hayesalians would toss things at him, he knew, dishonorable things. They might even throw children his way, he knew that they were cowardly dogs. Either way, it would be handled, regardless of the face of the enemy. It would be hard to find his agents anyways, when they were on missions it was always incognito, using fake identification. Their faces were covered at all times, so as to not be able to be picked out of a line should they become suspects. Soon...a message to the New Hayesalians. That message wouldn't be one they expect...something from their past would be used. One that would stir many of their own people against the government.

The past of New Hayesalia was not as clean as it's environment, it was bloody and tumultuous. A settler nation and an immigrant one as well. There were many ways to stir the people...he'd know, he'd raised hell in a few foreign countries before the First Civil War. He had been a Zealite then. It had been a simple task during the First Civil War to simply erase his name from the rolls and yet give himself a severance package. It had been quite an easy task for him and lying low was his specialty. He would enjoy this last journey quite a bit. He didn't expect himself to survive this, but where was the fun if survival was an absolute? Death being an absolute....that was what made actions like this fun.

Boarding his plane to Revnami, it was almost time. It was going to be the best and final job of his life. He wondered what exactly would go wrong, but he supposed the best part of these types of things was the surprise.

[New Hayesalia]

REVNAMI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT- DOMESTIC TERMINAL

Well inland, the airport saw traffic from all over New Hayesalia converging into a few key runways. In a country as big as New Hayesalia, it wasn't often suprising to see 747 sized aircraft ferrying domestic passengers from places even as close as Montmaray. The Air NH Boeing 787 was certainly no small plane, a widebody airliner used for the relatively short hop from Osenthest via Fotuzi, Retalimora. The Zellatian onboard was not particularly profiled: indeed, the airport security services were being quite thorough in their checks of incoming passengers. There was, of course, nothing on Monzearth that was particularly questionable.

The airport was lit with up with natural light, although with a large section of the domestic terminal undergoing renovation plywood sheets had been put up to keep the sound and dust in one place. To be fir, the specks of sawdust could still be seen in the air in some places. The food was fairly average too, the shitty duty free being nothing particularly special. It was slightly nicer than mediocre at best.

What the Zellatian was going to come up with was most probably far more stunning.

NHYIO COMPLEX, RURAL ZOLIRA

The New Hayesalian Youth Intelligence Organisation was most probably one of New Hayesalia's most closely protected national security secrets. Kept in the dark even further than the SLAMS program or military special forces, NHYIO trained teenagers from 12-19 how to be spies. Their skills were employed domestically and abroad, police and military. Tough training, lengthy studies and a drive to succeed seperated NHYIO from any other school or youth teams.

There were children who held some of the most closely guarded secrets, even from the New Hayesalian Intelligence Corps. At any time, the amount of people who knew of the organisation was limited to anyone who simply had to know: not even the Chief of Military had heard of NHYIO.

The use of children spies was easy to understand once you got your head around it. Adults may always be suspected, children perhaps not. All of these teenagers, a total of around one thousand, lived, trained and worked together from 12-19 years of age. There were more Spetzgruppa Nachal'nik members that that. The NHYIO and it's agents were trained to a standard exceeding some nations special forces: extensive training in intelligence gathering, military skills, and personnel development. To be NHYIO meant you had excellent mental and physical ability, a natural skill for intelligence, and you were an orphan usually, anyway. And depending on ethnicity, upwards of three languages could be learnt within a year.

A number of agents had been assembled, each of them having a Zellatian ethnic background. In fact, every qualified agent of Zellatian heritage had been assembled, a total of 25 ranging from age 13-17. From kids like Lyle Thomas, 17, to Zekie Imriel, 13, fresh from 'basic' training. Their handlers were three ex-agents and one ex-soldier. The fair haired and stone-faced, middle-aged Sophie Regg; Ronald Hi-Lee, a short, asian man with exceptional memory; Tim Edward, a balding man with a healthy appetite and strict discipline; and retired Special Forces soldier Aaron Delos, sunken eyes and No. 2 haircut obvious on this pointy face.

Each agent received a 96-98 page mission document, each centred on their individual missions. These agents had a simple goal- get in with Zellatian elements, prove their usefulness, and report on the doings of the Insurrectionist elements. A mjority of low to mid level insurrectionist figures could- and were- be looked at by more mainstream intelligence agencies, but the NHYIO provided a secondary and very useful form of intelligence. A number of Zellatian families- particularly those who had lost relatives in the war- had been checked by the security agencies of the Intelligence Corps. Paid off to house these agesnts, and signing the Secrets Act, they would play the role of foster families. It was unfortunately an all-too-real situation.

As the agents became quiet for the brief, a staff member interrupted.

Something terrible had happened.

[Zellatia]

Revnami, New Hayesalia, Near the Parliamentary Complex

Gair Monzearth had been planning the logistics of this mission for months. He had stealthily gotten all of the variables that were to be in play for this together as quickly as possible. He’d not made any mistakes recruiting men who had either nothing to lose or an enduring hatred of New Hayesalia. The strike would be two fold and purposely suicidal, at least from Gair’s point of view. The plan was simple, yet in the end it would be very complex. Every position that had straight line of sight of the Parliament was taken, reserved, or “stolen” from the inhabitants and set up to be a storehouse for the munitions they’d be using. The next part of the plan involved the rewiring of the Overwatch system so that it didn’t respond to New Hayesalian defense protocols, and instead was remotely controlled by a hacker overseas, the delay only being about six or so seconds between orders and launch. It had taken one of Gair’s children a month to be able to sneak in and out of the security facility where it was situated in order to set this up, so now that he had a way of beating away reinforcements, the next part of the plan was in full effect.

Gair had hired a few mercenaries, same group that had failed in Fruria, to hire themselves off as security for parts of the outer areas of the city, making them to be security guards for banks at what seemed to be low rates. Their job was to make the police have an issue when they attempted to rescue the next phase of the plan. As soon as all of the plans were in place, Gair mused, he would hightail it to his hotel room on the other side of town. For his own protection, of course, if he died foolishly like his subordinates, the following attack would fail miserably. As he got a text from his 2nd cousin, former Lt. Louis Zelheim, he began to walk out the door of the office building where he’d set up the first munitions post, and began walking down the hall. On the way, he passed by a janitor, who he nodded to before pulling out his pistol with a silencer attached and nailing the poor man In the back of the head. No uses having their plan get foiled because some janitor tried to clean up a room full of rockets.

As one of his men dragged the body off into a broom closet, he took out a cigarette, a lighter, lit the stick, and began to smoke it, walking down the steps to the lobby, waving to the girl working behind it. Nice girl, it was really a shame she was here. He stopped and turned to her, handing her about 20,000 Ќ Quats in order to send her home. She had a few kids to feed, after all. He smiled at her and walked out of the lobby, leaving her confused as she packed up her work station and followed him out, shaking his hand as she bolted for home. Some people just liked to be paid for nothing, he supposed. Walking for a bit, he was soon at his hotel, where he walked up to his room and shut the door, locking it behind him. As he made a call to a few friends, the signal from a hotel a few blocks away went out, and the barrage began.

Starting from the room he had left, a few custom AT4s, also called ZT4s for the reason that the missiles fired tended to be of higher explosive capacity due to a deal Zellatia had with the original manufacturer, launched towards the Parliament building, slamming at it at first from one side, and soon enough missiles from all sides began to be launched. As the building was slammed, it seemed that a slight delay occurred, with a full minute before the second wave was launched. After two more of these rounds occurred, it seemed time for the mercenaries to act. And act they did.

Several of the banks and other facilities that had hired them began to be shot up, with some of the banks outright robbed by these hired help from overseas, while some places just had a few dead. Throughout the city of Revnami, chaos began to reign. As air support in the form of helicopters came in, the Overwatch system, which had been compromised, began to open up. It would take time to find out how this would all effect the city, but if there was one thing that was certain, it was that New Hayesalia would not forget this day any time soon.

While all this was happening, Gair Monzearth simply smiled and watched some old recordings he had stashed in his room. He wouldn't turn on the news until things were done with. After all, he'd not only set this up, but had set up a few more overwatches throughout parts of the city, far away from the Parliament building. He wondered how the New Hayesalians would deal with this.

[New Hayesalia]

The Parliament Complex itself was a precinct of government buildings and embassies, gleaming white and distinctive in the minds of all New Hayesalian citizens- it was one of the most recognisable places in New Hayesalia. The midday sun and cloudless skies lit up the place, making it and indeed the rest of Revnami a city under the sun. Today, June 1, was the date of a full sitting of the House of Representatives, after a month long break since last meeting. They met in the building south of most others- in the 'red buildings' as the maps in the Complex showed them to be- a large building with enough offices for most of the 1,000 MPs who gathered there today.

Security here falls to a couple of hands. In general, the New Hayesalian National Police took care of general policing duties in the Complex. Armed- unlike most other NH police. The second organisation was technically a part of the military, but legally worked as a part of the police, a throwaway of the days of the Montmarian throne- the Royal Montmarian Guards, roughly the same as the US Secret Service. They were very well equipped, in charge of most of the security of places frequented by the Prime Minister. It included the PM's Lodge, the Parliament Complex and Military Headquarters. These were the men and a few women who could, at rare times through the day, be seen in urban camouflage FEAR on top of buildings with binoculars, and obviously access to sniper rifles.

Security at the Parliament Complex was, sensibly, complex. The RMG were often stationed in military uniform and plain clothes; metal and CBRN detectors installed; overall excellent CCTV coverage and supervision; bullet resistant windows were everywhere and vehicles had no way to get close enough to simply blow up. The OVERWATCH SAM was able to take out some rocket and air targets, supported by a radar discreetly placed on the roof. A mass rocket assault by organised insurgents wasn't all to realistic; but the element of suprise would treat them well.

Mid-debate, the assault began. The Shadow Minister of Business was yelling, to uproarious support from the Conservatives, but the guaffaws of the Federal Liberals and indeed most of the House, about the update to motor registration taxation. The Prime Minister was sitting, black suit and blue tie, sitting back in the green leather chair and smiling at the poorly-thought out screams before him. The chamber itself was windowless- more to direct focus onto the speakers- which meant the Chamber was surrounded by corridors for the public. The first rocket hit a window in the corridor. The high explosive round smashed through, blowing up old vases, cutting up and burning portraits- and killing a number of senior citizens. The corridor itself was separated from the Chamber by around two feet of solid steel and concrete, with a wood outer layer blown away to reveal the grey base- another security consideration. The blast was still easily heard. As was the second, landing in the courtyard and destroying a fountain, shrapnel and pressure injuring yet more people.

It took three seconds before an RMG, sitting beneath the Complex, mashed the Emergency Alert button- big, red and omnipresent. The response was quick. Uniformed national police were in the courtyards with pistols drawn, scanning for potential threats while people, scared and confused, ran fast away. Police attempted quickly to move them in a single direction, but chaos was reigning supreme.

Below the Complex, Montmarian Guards were loading up. Their 'ready rooms' were often used for talking, waiting, and being prepared to respond in six hour shifts. Now they were needed. Already wearing Urban FEAR camouflage, full colour New Hayesalian flag patches and their unit patch on their left and right arms respectively, they took just under a minute to put on combat gear, including body armour and helmet. It was not a complete battle armour set, but it would be hopefully enough. A total of 36 Guards were quick to respond, reinforcements for the others: RMGs who patrolled the roofs now took up arms- sniper-spotter teams armed with TAC-88 DMR rifles now took up post: they were also equipped with a new piece of equipment held by the spotter. Roundshot air burst weapons with CS gas grenades- a non lethal alternative. Combined with infrared sighting, it made the teams an extremely deadly duo.

On the ground, fires had started in the corridor. Another reocket burst through a window on a higher level, smashing into a number of occupied office cubicles, killing more people instantly and critically injuring others. People sprinted from some buildings and courtyards- others upon hearing the Complex-wide alarm took cover, probably a more wise move. RMGs began to sprint from buildings, Ripper Mk3 rifles at the ready while they moved in a dual column formation with rifles pointed upwards, seeking out the positions of the ZT4 firers. The sniper-spotters still had the main firing capacity, being slightly higher up.

Inside the Complex, in the House of Reps, Members of Parliament were being locked down. However, it was important to secure especially the Prime Minister and the other highest ranking members of Cabinet- who in the event of his death would assume control. 1,000 people could be hard to control, and the broadcast of the Sitting was stopped immediately. Plain clothed RMGs quickly entered the Chamber from the staff room, discreetly hidden to the side. A total of 20 Guards escorted out 12 people: from the PM himself to the Deputy PM, the Leader of the Opposition, and nine members of the Cabinet listed in the continuity of government. Everyone else in the Chamber had very clear advice as Guards with submachine guns took up post inside the Chamber and with Ripper Mk3 outside- get down and keep your head covered. The central oak doors were quickly locked and secured.

When the Emergency button was pressed, it had sent out an automatic request for air support; OH-58 helicopters of the Royal Montmarian Guards from North Revnami Air Force base, located just over 25 km away. To 'wind up' the helicopters and load up their crews took about five minutes; their arrival at Parliament Complex was going to take another ten. A total of four choppers were being rolled out, as the PM and his colleagues were moved to a secure bunker well underneath the surface; kept very secret.

The helicopters, in grey camouflage scheme, broke past a 20km radius of the Complex. Quickly, their highly qualified pilots were forced to break away as the beeping sound of a missile lock broke in. Someone- something- was targeting them. Before they had a chance, all four pilots had a missile on their tails. This was no easy fix- popping flares meant that the missile was still going somewhere, and if it hit the ground it could easily kill more people simply going about their lives. There was only one solution. Fly over a lake a few kilometres from their position, and hope that the missile wouldn't hit them.They only had about half a minute to do it. Thank god for them that they were in restricted airspace.

A sniper-spotter team knew the source, however. Their OVERWATCH system had fired; the RMG supervising in the subterranean control centre saw on his surveillance cameras the launch.

"OVERWATCH system unauthorised discharge, unauthorised discharge!" he screamed on the radio.

Chaos reigned down below: they'd lost control of a missile system. They didn't even know who was being fired on, until the lead helicopter called in a missile lock. Blue on blue: and the RMG had no idea who had fired. Their commander didn't have time to resolve the issue and he knew the risk of uncontrolled explosives; an instinctive response. In a quick yell he made the call- disable it in any way. A radio call later and a sniper was torn away, running the fifty metres to the launch unit and finding the emergency override switch, disabling it before it could fire again. Not before it got off a fifth missile.

The helicopters hovered mere feet over the water, whipping up the water and drawing fire. The beeping grew louder and faster. The lead pilot, a Major Himmel, had laid down instructions. They did two things in the space of seconds, instantaneous reactions kicking in. They rose quickly while they popped flares, advanced BLU-84s. They stayed hot on the water. The missiles and their smoky trails narrowly avoided the Vanguards; slamming into the water. Two went off, two did not. Navy divers would later be called in to make safe those missiles. The fifth missile had locked onto the third aircraft, which was still under threat. Frantic radio calls, and the instruction of Major Himmel, saw a repeat of the exercise. They were not so lucky. The helicopter failed to rise high enough, and it caught shrapnel. The armoured floors were just enough to keep the crew safe, but leaking fuel and with an engine down it required an emergency landing in a high school field; the NHCP Fire and Rescue Service being called in to make the plane safe as armed Army personnel bailed after shutdown.

At the Complex, two launch sites had been identified, and were now being fired upon with CS gas. RMG soldiers were beginning the process of breaching buildings in CQB, Ripper Mk3 rifles not perfect for the job but decent enough. The CS gas necessitated masks, which all of them carried and wore. Spotters took fire, a popping-banging hybrid sound signalling the firing of the CS grenade, which broke through the window. Two more rockets had been fired, smashing into the House corridor and offices again, obviously in the mood to assassinate the Prime Minister.

CQB took over. RMG squads knew where three men were firing from. They had seen the body of a man with a bleeding head wound, an old man with a staff tag on a lanyard around his neck. Taking up positions, they broke through the door with a small C4 brick on the doorknob quickly followed by a Model 5 flashbang, a black body with a green and grey band armound the middle. It flashed, it bsnged, and the RMG rushed in, the lead with Model 9 pistol drawn. Their target had two more rockets and was on the ground, an M9111 pistol on the ground nearby. Pushing the weapon away with his foot, the RMG pushed the man to the ground while another made same the loaded ZT4. In two other buildings, the same thing happened.

For now the siege seemed over, in the timeframe of around 12 minutes. RMG was being reinforced by New Hayesalian National Police Special Response Teams, armed to the teeth and uparmoured. 42 in total were ready to respond. Regular police forces were now administering first aid with some RMG soldiers. It wasn't sure if paramedics were safe to enter yet. SRT moved in with stretchers. Their armoured vans were able to enter, and with the protectection of soldiers they could move off. The media and the public were being kept away by police and firemen who had taken up post outside the complex: the police station had sent all available cars, everything from Mitsubishi Lancers and unmarked sedans to the Pajero paddywagon models and the huge random breath testing van. The NHCP Ambulance Service had also kicked into gear; a command response centre brought in with dozens of ambulances. Even fire trucks and smaller fire service vehicles were brought in. No helicopters flew overhead: restricted airspace kept them well outside, and the Vanguards weren't keen on reentering. The Prime Minister was still in the bunker. His main office was in the Complex; with large window views serving as one way mirrors to the outside in one of it's rooms, also protected against large blasts. The alternative was The Lodge, where he could be briefed and address the public. His personal RMG motorcade would enter as soon as the Complex was secure.

It had essentially served to freeze federal government work today. It was an act of terror of hugely audacious nature.

Within twenty minutes of the attack, with confirmation of the arrest of three men who were being held in an undisclosed room near the control room, someone had claimed responsibility.

[Zellatia]

Broadcasting Station, Somewhere in New Hayesalia

“Good evening, my fellow New Hayesalians”

The monitor panned over to a gruff looking man, with the Montmaray Flag behind him. He seemed to look like the average New Hayesalian, with the exception of his large size and overall dark look to him. His brown eyes cringed with what could only be described as abject hatred as he held a handgun to the head of what looked to be a Zellatian, who was dressed in a suit and tie. Anyone with a focus on government would recognize the man as Zellatian Ambassador to New Hayesalia. The leader of this group, the man in front of the camera, clicked back the safety of his gun and put it to the Ambassador’s head.

“For too long we have allied with these…backwards blue devils, helping them when they’ve done nothing in return for us. They have claimed alliance, yet we shed blood for them. Tonight, I tricked a bunch of those Blue Bastards into attacking the parliament. I already have several more attacks planned. My next target is Gair Monzearth, a supposedly prominent Zellatian businessman. He has no right to be in New Hayesalia, let alone anywhere in Montmaray. I call on all true New Hayesalians to attack Zellatians before their idiocy and suicidal behavior endanger them all. The price on Gair’s head is set at 20 Million Ќ Quats.”

“And if you think I’m not serious, well…” Two men lifted the ambassador upwards, who stared into the camera as the gun was fired, not letting out anything but a death rattle before being dropped to the floor. It was clear to any who watched who was responsible for the days attacks. The mercenaries, for the most part, were still active in the city, tying up the police from more important emergencies.

The large man in front of the camera, who was wearing the patriotic colors of New Hayesalia grinned as he brought the now dead Zellatian Ambassador upwards and slowly sawed off his head for the camera, dangling it front of the camera before claiming, “NEW HAYESALIA FOR NEW HAYESALIANS ALONE!”

The feed cut off from there.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gair Monzearth’s Hotel Room, Revnami, New Hayesalia

Gair smiled as he watched the plan come together. It had been so easy to get the super nationalist to think that he was being paid by a concerned citizen with money. Who would ever guess that he’d manipulate someone into ordering his death and threatening him, all while paying the said person? The attack on the Parliament, in reality, had all been a large distraction from the Ambassador’s kidnapping. With Des-Ambron’s death, he supposed a new, less New Hayesalia friendly ambassador would be put in place. Des-Ambron’s family had been the largest Ambassadorial family when it came to that duty, but now new people unrelated were likely to join those ranks.

Everything was falling into place, and he loved it. They’d go from fearing Zellatians to wanting to protect them from scrutiny. It was this type of thing that helped his cause almost more than anything else. False truths were always the easiest to spread, especially when they sounded so true. It didn’t hurt that technically it was, the men who were captured, even under truth serum, would only say that they had a Zellatian overseer and that the man on television had offered them a once in a life time deal to do today’s attack. It would be brilliant and as usual, he would get off mostly scot-free. The only question now was to evade being murdered by a greedy person somewhere in the capital.

The signal had gone throughout the city, and was likely being played on the news, barring the sawing of the ambassador’s head. He enjoyed watching New Hayesalian news, like he was right now, especially during crisis. They always seemed, at least to him, to struggle trying to keep calm and relaxed, especially if something grizzly is being shown on television that opposes their views of the world. Especially if it was done by one of their countrymen, like in this case. Either way, he had won this round, and as he finished watching the news, he got back to his business deal. A new megaplex in the Zellatian part of Osenthest would be built by this time next year, and he really needed to arrange with his broker here in town in regards to the appropriate funding…

[New Hayesalia]

OUTSIDE GLASSOP, PROVINCE OF ROZANIA

Rozania is New Hayesalia's agricultural heart, providing the mainland with a majority of the staple foods that people saw on supermarket shelves in places like Revnami, Oppentin and Osenthest. With a mixture of advanced techniques and by the very nature of the size of New Hayesalia requiring genetic modification, this was one of the most productive places to farm in the world. With a size near to half of New Hayesalia's mainland, with such a huge emphasis on agriculture, this province was all farms and basically nothing else. It attracted many itinerant workers; seasonally employed tourists who would often use their time on the farms to turn over a decent income and use it to tour the mainland. It gave NH tourism a competitive edge, an appeal to tour, and a good way to make some money if you found yourself down on your luck. Typically, the farms sold to domestic markets for a fair price.

Farm owners were by and large New Hayesalians, although you could find the occasional foreign owner or dual citizen. For someone like 40 year old Frize Monnea, a tall Zellatian who had emigrated after the first Civil War and made investments in the province, it supplied a life that wasn't like the general rat race- even if all he could see was wheat fields for miles on miles. His father had been in the military, and had died of a heart condition a few years beforehand. Very disciplined around his men, a proper hard ass, his dad stook a more relaxed approach with his family which was so very out of character for his military mind. Years beforehand, Frize had grown shoulder-length blonde hair like that of a Norse god to attempt to frustrate his tough father, a petty act of teenage rebellion. He had kept it, and on his fathers death he had decided to keep it that way, a symbolic reminder of family in a now faraway nation.

An unsealed road led to his property- a large 5 bedroom, 3 bathroom home- and to the smaller houses and sheds around it that provided the accommodation for his workers from around the world. About 500 metres away was an aviation gas tank, and under a hangar more resembling a big shed was his green and white Robinson R-22 helicopter he used for work and sometimes trips into town. As the sun set, turning the thin clouds pink in the light, Frize took a snap with his phone. It was only him and five other workers from three countries on the farm tonight, each of them keeping to one of the smaller accommodation houses. He didn't spot the dirty cloud following a Mitsubishi Pajero four wheel drive coming up his driveway, caring little for much other than "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" as he heated a microwave pizza. That attack on Parliament was pretty big news and the video of the Prime Minister being escorted by armed soldiers to the Army PM helicopter in bright colours was still being repeated, even after the PM had addressed the nation from The Lodge, which was under extremely heavy protection. He had called especially for calm and restraint, as most politicians did, and called on people to realise that to respond with violence would lead to a vicious cycle for "not only this generation, but more likely the next to be remembered and studied as a dark period in this countries great history."

A man climbed out of the Pajero, dressed in a simple although apparently designed t-shirt and old jeans, tussled and greasY brown hair pushed aside as he opened the wire fence. The Pajero rolled up the rest of the ten metres and pulled up, sandy gravel crunching under the wheels. By now, Frize had figured out someone was there to visit, and came through the screen door left open to keep the breeze in. Wearing a singlet he walked down the stairs towards the strange FWD, saying a polite hello, waving and trying to look through the tinted windows. In an instant, two passengers jumped out, grabbing the Zellatian and clocking him in the face, blood coming from his mouth with the impact. The big passenger, a look of hate on his face, in singlet and denim shorts, took another swing at the Zellatian, calling mout in serious pain. He and the other passenger released him, and the Zellatian dropped to the ground, groaning and yelling in pain and for help. The big guy kicked him in the gut, and Frize moaned again in pain. His jaw was obviously fractured.

Two more men had gotten out of the Pajero, one short middle aged guy talking on a satellite phone. His white hair and gait-like walk made him look a weak person, but the old 9mm pistol in his left hand was certainly well-maintained. Frize squirmed on the ground. All was being caught on video phone by the greasy-haired guy, who made whooping calls as he saw the blue-skinned man in extreme pain. The Zellatian seemed to be attempting to crawl away. The man who was driving had grabbed him by the hair, overturning him on the side. His heavy boots drove into his ribs, the loud thunk echoing through Frize's body. The farm workers, four guys around 20-23 and a woman of about 22 had run out to see what the issue was. Spotting the group of attackers, they ran to the encounter. What happened next wasn't that clear. A passenger, who had been wedged between the others in the back seats, now came from the back of the maroon FWD. Holding a rum bottle with cloth burning atop it, he threw it towards the clumped workers. Upon landing the molotov exploded, the burning fluids within sticking to three of the five.

A few of the attackers lurched forwards, with the pistol-wielding driver staying on Frize and the amateur cameraman recording the event as three men burned in front of him. As the attackers charged, one of the would-be rescuers took a fighting karate stance, a native of the Chinese Regions. The other, the woman, was frantically and ineffectively trying to extinguish another man- her brother. A strong knee to the face was an immediate knockout. The Chinese man made a strong kick as the fat man in the denim shorts lurched at him, colliding with his neck and taking him down and gasping for air. Another man, shirtless with some generic woodland camo trousers and, unfashionably, crocs with socks. Crucially, he had a knife. The Chinese man didn't have the chance to respond, a 9mm bullet tearing into his head. As it would be, the short guy with the 9mm was many years ago a private in the Union Defence Force before the Amalgamation. And he was a damn fine shot.

As the night set and the intruders became more violent, often ranting about the foreign menace they had always known to exist. Their video was put on the deep web, the secret part of the internet often used for this kind of video sharing and seen by the men who would anonymously pay them.

The police found the property itself in fine condition; but with six corpses scattered around. Many were burnt from the Molotov, and the others simply executed. Frize himself was found hanging on the rotor of his R-22, blonde hair soaked red with blood. It was a symptom of the attacks, the stabbings and the shootings that were happening all over New Hayesalia. In that one night, 1,311 Zellatians were killed by extremists, with an additional 150 people dying in the attacks. There was also an additional 74 New Hayesalians killed.

Police received new instructions. Shifts would have up to 7 hours added, and all police members would be armed at all times. Prominent Zellatians or their relatives were invited to come forwards for support from Police, which involved hiring armed- screened- security personnel. Friends were taking in friends, and facebook was a flurry with warning messages. In some areas of NH, schools and similar organisations were closed for the day- a Wednesday. The military were also considered involved. Parts of the reserve forces were being called into work, ready to assist police just in case they were needed. The Government response was harsh, especially with forensic investigators looking at the blown out wall at Parliament, behind the temporary fencing- calling the attacks beyond the 'most savage acts of cruelty we have ever witnessed.'

The hunt of Monzearth especially was on. Although in secret- barely, with police arrests for conspiracy to murder starting to reach into the hundreds- Montmaray was being combed for his presence. Many Zellatians in the province had already been killed as well as plenty of people of other nationalities. A fraction of a percentage of people had access to firearms, which was in a way fortunate, but kidnappings and other assaults were becoming the norm. It was truly brutal.

[Zellatia]

Oppentin, New Hayesalia

Monzearth had been busy while in hiding. Gair had been making plans, using the distraction from more pertinent matters, such as airport security, to good use. His contact that he used under the assumed name of Geoff Underskaff had given out enough bribes to get a few 777’s, loaded with immigrants and tourists, under his control, the pilots that were usually on duty for those planes getting “sick” or “hung over” at convenient times, to be replaced by more radicalized crew members. However, it would be the flight attendants that were sneaked onto each of these aircraft that would be the ones to really control the situation. The extremists would be dead by the time the plane got fully off of the ground.

No, the plane was much more complicated than the savages who he had recruited would understand. He was already safe from them, having gotten several bodyguards, most of whom were distant relatives, to be at his person at all times. He looked not exactly out of place for a businessman as he walked into the office of one of the larger farm owners in New Hayesalia. The man controlled ten percent of the overall supply chain that lead out of Rozania, and he was ready to sell. The fact that he lived in Oppentin gave Gair Monzearth the perfect chance to watch his handiwork at a comfortable distance.

The plan beyond the initial hijacking was simple. Once the planes were at ten thousand feet, the food would be given to the passengers. Those that didn’t die from the poison within would be terminated other ways. After that, well, it would be easy enough to finish off the pilots with the swords that the flight attendants would be wielding. Especially when it had been assured to the head of the extremists that guns were not necessary. By the end of things, they’d be dead and the attendants, all of whom have an illness that was slowly killing them anyways, would pilot the planes using instructions preprinted for this purpose. It was glorious and it was simple.

Simple enough, anyways. In the meantime, Gair finalized the agreement and transferred about 1.9 Billion Ќ Quats into the account of the gentleman he was making a deal with. After all, if everything came to fruition properly, money wouldn’t matter too much, even if what was given was only a small portion of Monzearth’s total wealth. He had at least 20 Billion Ќ Quats left in his joint account anyways. He could buy the silence of many if he needed. Of course, the man should he ever take a vacation abroad, might wake up the next day after a long night drinking with friends that he no longer possessed a head.

Whistling to himself as he left the office, he got a text from his contact that the planes had left the ground and were heading towards Oppentin, just like a routine flight. Perfect. As he went to his hotel, a group of youths with baseball bats approached his small group of five Zellatians.

“Hey, smurf, you came to the wrong part of town today” said the obvious leader, wearing his hat backwards, perhaps in a display of “coolness”.

Gair just looked at the kid and smiled, “Did I now? Tell me, why did I come to the wrong part of town, Sir?”

The teenager stepped forward, tapping the ground a few times with his bat as he approached Mr. Monzearth, “Because you and your crew of Cat People are about to get their skulls bashed in.”

Laughing loudly, Gair raised his hand and shook his head, “Really now? That’s amazing. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like if a snot-nosed brat with no manners did that to me. Perhaps you can illuminate this to me.”

Approaching closer, the crowd of youths, outnumbering the group of Zellatians two-to-one, seemed menacing; at least they would be if the group of Zellatians in question wasn’t all former Zealites.

The Bloodbath was quick and quiet. This had taken place in an alleyway, after all. Every one of the racist teenagers was dead, with only one of the Zellatians’ swords having any trace of blood. This was more for reasons of practicality than showmanship. After all, if they were brought in for questioning, only one of them would be able to be put away for ten counts of murder.

Monzearth’s group arrived at the hotel around ten pm. It wouldn’t be until nine or so in the morning that the planes would strike the building. He wanted to get a good night’s sleep so he could watch the media scramble after the terrorist leader spoke again. The fact that they hadn’t found a man who was obviously easy to find if they actually went to the mountains where he was “hiding from government spies” was incredible. He’d be speaking about the brave sacrifices of the extremists who had died blowing up the building and how the Hayesalian Spirit was actually a sign of New Hayesalia’s forgetfulness of its roots and overly globalistic approach at the future and such other garbage. To be honest, Monzearth respected the New Hayesalians for their war-like behavior at times. He wanted revenge more, though.

As he settled to get to sleep, he yawned and got comfortable. This would be a good night. And the next day would be better than that, even.

The next day, the skies of Oppentin were clear, with only a few clouds in the sky. There was no way that the people who lived in Oppentin could know what tragedy was about to strike. The planes were already en route to their targets.

Flight 822B was headed to the upper areas of the building, straight from Revnami.
Flight 77A was headed to the center part of the building, straight from Brandkonig
Flight 9231D was headed to just above the base of the building, straight from Banesyd

All of these planes had been scheduled so that they would get to Oppentin at the same time.

The question is, would they?

[New Hayesalia]

NH AIRWAYS FLIGHT
FLIGHT NH9321
HBSY - HOPP

"So are we gonna go on the tower?" asked the five-year old, probably louder than appropriate on any plane. "Mum?"
"Shh, Aaron. You need to be quiet on planes." his mother responded, "And yes, we'll go on the tower"
"What's it look like, mum?" he asked back, whispering.
"I showed you before we got on the plane, Aaron." she said with a smile, matching his volume. She produced a Ќ10 note, the tower portrayed blasting out of the clouds.

The tower in question was the Hayesalian Spirit. The world's tallest building, standing at 1,001 metres exactly, with 156 stories, 50 hectares or 530,000 square metres of space, featuring a luxury hotel, office space, serviced apartments, luxury condominiums and the world’s highest observatory. More so, it was New Hayesalia's international monument, an architectural piece on par with Moscow's Kremlin, the Sydney Opera House or Big Ben.

"Now are you going to eat your sandwiches or not?" she asked, pointing at the ham and lettuce ones in front of him.
"No, I don't like it very much." he replied, surprisingly mature for his age and considering the long flight from Banesyd.

With that in mind, his mother took the sandwich and placed in a sick bag, probably for later consumption.

People often enough say that airline food is bad, but rarely is it quite as bad as on this domestic flight. The poison, a native and tasteless Zellatian blend, had worked quickly enough. 15 minutes and from front to back, systematically, people started having breathing problems. The effect was similar to sleep aponeia. Completely alert, but feeling like one's lungs were being crushed- able to exhale but not to inhale. People fell from seats, convulsing. People rushed from economy, as to deliver CPR. Then more people suffered the same, and the first aiders found themselves overwhelmed. And gradually, the first aiders succumbed to the illness.

And Aaron's mum was the last person on board to fall unconscious, as Aaron begged her to wake up, to no avail. His cries were put down aas a flight attendent directed his attention to him, showing his true self- an extremist terrorist. At least he had the decency to not allow the five year old to not suffer as his blade ended the boy's short life.

The pilots however, had no idea of the incident behind them. Until the bashing on the door, seemingly by a flight attendant with one hell of an angry face.

"Barry, I don't know if this guy looks too happy." said the co-pilot, Rey.
"What guy?" replied Barry, the aging Captain. "A passenger?"
"No, it's that replacement flight attendant... hold on a sec... they're all coming to the pilots doo..."

With that, Rey was cut off. The powerful Zellatian sword had been thrust through the door just under the eyehole, penetrating the cockpit door and Rey's throat. Blood fell onto the blue-grey uniform, and the sword was detracted.

"Shit!" was the one word out of Bruce's mouth as his colleague fell, clutching his neck. His first movement was the aircraft's transponder as the hijackers began trying to break into the door, which he rapidly switched from 7000 to 7500- the international squak code for a hijacking. It was doubtful that the hijackers would have the necessary skills to understand, yet alone use the transponder- if they were gonna fly this thing, they were only focused on the controls.

As they started to break in, he was able to yell out his final words- "NH9321; Transponder seven five zero zero..." The story was very similar across the other flights, with three aircraft nationwide now squaking 7500 and headed towards New Hayesalia's largest city.

0710
DYSER AIR FORCE BASE, NORTH PILTOMANA

The sky here too was beautifully clear. Barely a cloud added colour to the sky, and the flat grasslands surrounding the mid-sized air base made it look almost seperated from the rest of the world. The closest comparison to this place- according to one squadron CO- was the default desktop on a Microsoft computer. The lush green plains cut sharply into the light blue sky, and with barely a tree to spoil it's gaze, the sun lit every part of the ground with a bright glow.

The airbase here was home to six flying squadrons from the 8th Air Legion, as well as a number of support services. The bulk of the base was south of the long runway, everything from the squadron of A-3 aircraft, to the three tanker squadrons and a C-130 squadron, the mess, the cadets and the accommodation known on base as Alcatraz. To the north side you could find the ATC tower and the firetrucks, plus the 25 metre rifle range- as well as 2 Squadron of 9 Wing- Interceptors.

2 Squadron was one of those squadrons that everyone knew of, but nothing about. Fulfilling the Interceptor role alongside No. 3 Sqadron in the east of the Province, this was one of the few squadrons in New Hayesalia that operated the CF-205 Arrow. Kept in closed hangars and shelters to remove prying eyes, with at least one aircraft ready to go at all times, these aircraft had the critical role of defending New Hayesalia's airspace when the G-SAMS system was simply unsuitable. 24/7, one aircraft was waiting with a pilot and air combat officer buckled in, weapons readied, and engines ready to move the aircraft onto the runway for take off in one and a half minutes.

The pilots entertained themselves with their iPads on multiplayer. Texas Hold 'em was very popular in this squadron, and there was an active competition between the ready pilots. Flight Lieutenant Ricardo Ramirez, sitting in the front seat, was currently first on the ladder for the 600 Quat prize. His ACO, Flt Lt. Ed Gombell- funnily close to Gamble. The iPads were put away, and 97 seconds later the Arrow was heading out, climbing steeply at full speed. In only a few minutes they had reached altitude and received a vector from G-SAMS Command, heading to one of the three hijacked aircraft. Two more interceptors were beginning the process of scrambling, and they had seven minutes to get out of the base.

The first interceptor was rocketing at full speed on a vector with the non-responsive hijacked 767, a total of Mach 3. 12 minutes after take off, the jet appeared on the horizon visually, and the Arrow soon came to the portside of the 767. No faces in the windows, no radio responses, and in the cockpit were two men who definely did not appear to be the pilots.

They were now 200 kilometres and about 20 minutes outside of Oppentin, and the Hayesalian Spirit- not yet known as the target.

There were certain directives about this. If this aircraft began to present a threat, it had to be taken down. The missiles on board the interceptor would be undoubtedly enough, even if it meant killing the hundreds aboard. But they hadn't been seen... were they dead, or unconscious? It was a horrific decision indeed, but if the aircraft didn't make contact within the next 40 kilometres, it was entering a high-risk controlled airspace.

One call.
Two calls.
More, and more.
One kilometre away, and no response.

The decision was made, and the Prime Minister had been told of the verdict although his approval was not necessary. G-SAMS had authorised it.

The needs of many outweigh the needs of one.

---

UNION 24/1 NEWS

Union News, founded in 1975, was not only New Hayesalia's largest news network, but one of the few that was broadcast nationwide at all hours of the day. With eight channels specifically, and other news channels handling local and regional news, it left Union News to focus on the issues and the stories that affected all of New Hayesalia. Channel 1 covered major events, generally with some analysis as to what it meant for the country. Channel 2 was focused on politics, everything from major decisions to the smaller regulations, Channel 3 focused more so on stories coming from New Hayesalia's courtrooms, 4 focused on sports, and so on and so forth.

The Breaking News tab on top of the ticker on Channel 1 nearly always spelled bad news- today it was particularly so.

"3 AIRCRAFT SHOT DOWN NEAR OPPENTIN: AIRCRAFT WERE HIJACKED"

The follow up report, detailed by a short, asian lady of about middle age, was horrific. There were no known survivors, and not all the bodies had yet been found. According to passenger manifests, the toll was high with each of the Boeing 767s totally destroyed- 917 people, but thankfully nobody on the ground. The report spoke of the ghastly decision made, and that the New Hayesalian Air Force was responsible- though they were quick to respond that it was their mission to do exactly that, if they had to. Still, it didn't stop the hundred-odd civilians who started their protest outside Dyser Air Force Base, with Air Force Security Police standing guard at the base, armed with some bearing Sparky tigers, ready to set loose if need be. The protest was mostly peaceful, except for the one notably hippie-like senior who had decided to defecate on the sign outside the base, the bronze lion and wings defaced.

The furore from Parliament was even worse. New Hayesalia's new Prime Minister had been in office for less than a week, and he had already been challenged by the FSP. Edwin Bolt, the redheaded, fit, middle aged man who now occupied the office of Daniel Hayes, was dealing with a terror attack on par with nearly anything Hayes had dealt with. Naturally, the crisis meeting quickly ensued- Hayes, and most of his ex-cabinet, were asked to attend. Channel 1 knew very little of the crisis meeting, although they did cut to the three minutes long presentation and brief by the Prime Minister- and the longer one by the Minister for Home Affairs.

At two pm, the Cabinet had reached a verdict on how to resolve the issue. For Bolt, it was clear. He had a very hard line policy on the FSP, cited a number of times as a reason for his election success. In an address to the nation from the Prime Minister's office, with a New Hayesalian flag to his left and the skyline of Revnami to his right, he had spoken calmly, though taking the ocassional break; a clear reminder that he was still shocked at the immense catastrophe his nation had just witnessed. His face, usually animated, was stony and served to veil his emotions.

"Today, through the orders of my office, a true tragedy was caused, and yet a more tremendously horrific one was avoided. The New Hayesalian Air Force dispatched interceptor aircraft to shoot down three civilian airliners, all belonging to NH Airways, after they were hijacked and steered into controlled airspace near Oppentin, Piltomana. In all, New Hayesalia lost 917 men and women. I say we avoided another tragedy, because it is the belief of the Intelligence Corps that the aircraft were on a collision path with the Hayesalian Spirit skyscraper. We believe that, had this attack been successful, more than 4,000 people's lives would have been put in jeopardy. We mean it when we say there was no other way to stop this from happening."

At this point, he took in a deep breath, steeling himself.

"The Intelligence Corps has briefed me, and my Cabinet, about what has transpired in New Hayesalia today. We believe that this was an act of aggression, an act of terror, orchestrated by the Forward Shade. Post-mortems have revealed that the occupants of the aircraft which have been found were almost always found with a deadly poison in their bodies, and we have also found a sword with design patterns generally used by FSP supporters. We have begun the process of DNA sampling, to find out without a shred of doubt that the FSP are behind this."

He spokes with a faster, more agitated tone; with firmness and resolve that would undoubtedly been analysed many times over as being extremely genuine- which it was indeed.

"Today, I have had enough. New Hayesalia is a country where our citizens should feel safe, free from the threat of harm from terrorist forces. The Forward Shade group have caused enough trouble, but New Hayesalia will not keel over and accept this situation. I now declare that a state of war exists between the Greater Island Kingdom of New Hayesalia, and the Forward Shade Party. I have prepared a pack of initiatives. The New Hayesalian Military Readiness Condition has been set to Bravo; that is we are engaged in an overseas war. The only higher condition is Alpha, where we would be engaged in a war in New Hayesalia itself. New Hayesalian Military Reservists who have been contacted by their unit staff are ordered to report for duties in defending New Hayesalian territory and places of importance. The New Hayesalian National Police will now be armed on patrols in all parts of the country until this threat subsides. In conjunction with the Zellatian Military and Government, the Greater Island Kingdom is ready to reenter Zellatia to assist in eradicating the Forward Shade through arresting and trying, in courts of law in Zellatia- if the enemy is found there- or New Hayesalian courts if found here, on the Frurian continent, or in other locations."

"I warn all New Hayesalians who are aligned with the Forward Shade Party that it is considered a federal offence to aid the enemy, and the maximum penalty for this offence is imprisonment for life. This nation is going to disable the Forward Shade party, and prevent it from ever regaining political presence. If New Hayesalia is open territory to murderers and terrorist, the need to close that territory is more important to our way of life than anything else we could do- because it is something we must do."

[Zellatia]

Failure.

The first true failure of all of his attempts at harming the New Hayesalians. The plan had been derailed, sure, but there was an easy way to unseat this man from his high horse. It would involve more planning, but in the meantime there would be other plans. Outside of New Hayesalia. Sadly, they had been short sighted, him and the New Hayesalians both. There were other pastures to wreck, other poisons to create. Gair knew that he wasn’t on their radar much, and it was time for a well-meaning vacation. He’d sabotage something else until then. After all, New Hayesalia already had plenty of holdings outside of the main islands. Those were nice targets.

As he boarded his private jet, which was cleared for takeoff, he sipped his champagne and left the country. With 10% and more of New Hayesalia’s farmland output in his hands, he could destroy New Hayesalia’s infrastructure itself at a later date.

The news flickered on as he watched the speech. Could be worse for him, he supposed, stretching in his seat. There was no communication remaining connecting him with the extremists, the go between having conveniently died shortly after the failed attack. Failure always had a price to be paid and his go between had suffered a nasty heart attack as a result of his failure. Gair wondered how some of his countrymen were handling this situation. There were still hold outs of the FSP in the homeland after all, even if most of them were crushed. The mountains had many caves and there was only so much that the militaries of New Hayesalia and Zellatia could comb, especially in Gendia and Pedron.

The day would not be all that harsh. He had heard that the Zellatians were finally sending over a new ambassador to replace the dead one. About time, that was. After all, with the death of the Ambassador, who’d been the cornerstone of Zellatian-New Hayesalian communications, things were sure to get difficult. More tense, anyways. It was no secret that the newly appointed ambassador, Melrose Falxen, was a Neutralist, someone who tended not to try to get involved in other people’s politics, much less have them involved in theirs. There would never again be an intervention such as the one New Hayesalia had perpetrated, especially now that Zellatia would have the same military standard as New Hayesalia in a few years, a deal agreed upon after the war.

This would be an interesting era. It was too bad that he’d likely not survive it. What drove him to these things? Many things did this, Patriotism for his country and the indignities that New Hayesalia had forced it to endure, mostly. Zellatia was supposed to be at war with itself, that was part of its nature, but now the outsider’s influence had ruined that. The cancer that was without was now within, just as it was to him. The doctor had given him a month to live. It was now fifteen years and counting. The cancer had never gone into remission, but he was so close to his goal that he could taste it. The indignity, he must avenge it. Before it was too late.
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It was now half past noon as the Zellatian Ambassador, newly appointed, arrived at his office. “Sir?” one of the secretaries asked, awaiting his order, “Would you like me to place that call you were asking about?” Most of the secretaries working in the Embassy were locals who could speak High Zellatian or the Zellatian English equivalent. There were a few terms that the local New Hayesalians didn’t understand, but that was alright. Sometimes it was better to be misunderstood than to be fully known.

“Yes, yes, call the Home Office or whatever you call it. We need to discuss the sale of the Frurian territory already, it was brought up in the negotiations your government had with the FSP. If my equivalent or greater isn’t on the phone in the next ten minutes, I’m going to go to the capital building myself, or whatever the hell you call it.” He wasn’t always this grumpy, but he’d been given a mandate by the General in charge of the army. Secure the territory before any further idiocy could be bargained over with Zellatian territory. Offending the Zellatians after years of alliance had riled the rank and file. Gone were the days of kindness between Hayes and the Emperor. No, though the Emperor was still on the throne there was a new Prime Minister, one universially unpopular back home. Out of many countries polled, Zellatians only had a 33% approval rating of the new man, Bolt or Charge or whatever the hell he was called. He’d be out after this election if he had any way of influencing things, but he didn’t, so he couldn’t way in officially. The government of Hayes had soured relations as a last move, he wondered if the Bolt government would fare all that much more on the positive side…

((Sorry for the short post))

[New Hayesalia]

The Zellatian Ambassador's staff had placed a call to Lauretta Meinke, the New Hayesalian Foreign Minister. Meinke was a fairly important Conservative party figure, but was not considered domestically appealing. That being said, the obese woman was very well aware of foreign cultures and had been entrusted with this role. She was quite intuitive, really, though she lacked expert knowledge of the inner political workings of New Hayesalia. She was full of potential, as the Prime Minister and his Deputy had discussed, but she sometimes couldn't see possibilities.

Her office was at the Parliament Complex, at Building 4. He office, on the top floor, was large and had a dedicated team of staff working for the Minister. Given how soon the election had been, she was just getting settled in. The meetings and other briefings she had been through over the first two days had been extensive, but she was now taking appointments. Today's 12 o'clock was the ambassador from Okwe, important fair enough but not quite on the same scale a a major New Hayesalian ally. So when the new Ambassador, recently received by the Queen, called her office demanding a meeting about Frurian issues.

The New Hayesalian Government had been fairly well accepted by the population, but in Zellatia public opinion had dropped rapidly. Hayes was still politically active as the Leader of the Opposition, and the Government was already worried: if he could maintain good stead with the Zellatians as they became citizens, and therefore obliged to vote, he could see a huge swing in his favour.

Aside from the politicking, the Ambassador was going to be over shortly. Given it was about Fruria, Maeinke opened a file about Fruria and the deal made under the previous government. It had been an issue, given the money spent on it for little gain, and the fact that only a few hundred people had ever really wanted to live there. Meinke sipped tea as she waited for the arrival of the Zellatian, in a worrisome state.

---

SAILOR'S MESS, NHS LERARE ISLAND, QUAIA, ZOLIRA

The Mess aboard the NHS Lerare Island was well-suited to a huge force of enlisted personnel from the Army and Navy, though today it was the exclusive domain of the Navy. The Mess, with clean walls, long tables and blue passed chairs just beyond it's long serving area, was suited to serve three meals a day to up to 4,500 men and women. A huge room, and by association a huge kitchen, was today sparse with only the ship's crew of around 30 enlisted crewmen eating here. The officer's mess was actually busier, as helicopter pilots had been landing all day. Their loadmasters would soon come down to the enlisted mess as well, nearly doubling the current population of the room.

The sailors sat here were all veterans, having recently returned from the war. Many had been involved in the anti-radiation missions in the southern waters. For Leading Seaman Dyle Walters, a Zellatian originally, it had been hard. He sat alone, sipping a coke and looking at the photos on the wall. He remembered the injured Zellatians who lay dying on these tables. And indeed, he considered his hatred of the FSP to be valid. Like much of the crew, he was ready to go back.

On the deck, a sizeable crew was still loading the AFSB with a variety of helicopters. Today's mission was to bring the air wing back aboard the Lerare, waiting for the new Defence minister to outline a plan for Zellatia and the response to the FSP. Attack gunships and transport helicopters were all landing, directed by the crew in a rainbow of coloured shirts and being lowered to the hangar by a huge elevator. The same thing was happening all over Zolira and other provinces, with the 7th and 16th Naval Legions preparing to head for Zellatia. The Army were also preparing, conducting predeployment training while logistics personnel ensured mobilisation could go ahead as normal.

The Zellatians were not ready to take back their country, and despite the New Hayesalian civilian aid, the FSP had to be eliminated. The NHM would make it happen.

[Zellatia]

Zellatian Embassy, Revnami, New Hayesalia

Ambassador Melrose Falxen was surprised by the actual acceptance to meet so soon, after all he’d just been installed to his post on top of being somewhat rude to the person on the other end of the line. He hadn’t done much since other than pace and wait for an answer, but when the answer arrived, he immediately prepared for the meeting, gathering together all of the pertinent documentation needed for the sale. Zellatia, despite its war-torn nature, was never lacking in money. Inflation was a bit of a problem compared to some nations, but all in all, the mint came out with new money at an average rate. 1% inflation over a three year period wasn’t all that bad, considering that they’d just gone through a war. It was necessary now to secure the New Hayesalian portion of Fruria. If only to take another area for Zellatia, they needed to secure a significant portion of the continent. Vast reserves of ore had already been found deep in the mountains of the West Destronikan colony, who knew what would be found in what apparently was to be called Lindamere, after the deceased foreign minister. While not a close friend of the elder Lindamere, whose son was now in the same position, he had been a revered figure in the diplomatic service, having served under four Emperors. This was something that most Zellatians couldn’t boast if they had kept their positions. Even von Leone had only been put into the position of Grand Admiral halfway into Emperor Zellath IX’s brother’s reign, and that had lasted a mere fifteen days.

On top of all this was…disturbing news. During the 1500’s AD, shortly after the Tigarian Conquest had finished, Zellatian soldiers were restless. This resulted in the remaining islands in Zellatia’s periphery being conquered and vassalized, but it didn’t end there. Shiploads of young Zellatian men had gone off to sea, to search for new lands to conquer. Many found mild success, some fantastic. Very few of the expeditions had ended in abject failure, mostly due to the superiority of Zellatian armaments at the time. After a generation or two, at most six for some places, communication had stopped. Some of these places were thousands of miles away, so it wasn’t even feasible to send scouts or ask merchants, as only rumor or hearsay was returning. So, as a rule, the former conquests outside of Zellatian direct or indirect governance were ignored. Lost. Forgotten. At least, it would have remained so if not for modern technology. The first of these “Lost Colonies” as the Zellatian history journals had called them had been found in the 1980’s, during the reign of Zellath IX’s father. Being an indolent ruler, he ignored them. By the time of the recent Insurrection, at least fifteen had been accounted for out of the many that had been lost. With the most recent radio transmissions, mostly in High Zellatian, the number had risen to 46. While the Empire had lost track of them, they, for the most part, hadn’t lost track of each other. However, nor would they want to be easily suborned back into Zellatian control, it seemed. A few of them had needed the help, the Zellatian military moving in quickly to support the few that needed and asked for it. Three islands were now in Zellatian control, the islands of Adez, Hermephelos, and Koncentriya. They were a part of a small cluster of islands that had perhaps a million souls in each, as the islands weren’t that large. The other islands were larger. Adez needed Zellatian aid due to a natural disaster that had wrecked the island a year or so earlier, Hermephelos was alien in comparison to Zellatian tastes, but needed help exporting a rare fruit that grew on the island, while Koncentriya was an odd, Islamic State that had been waiting for a while for Zellatians from the homeland to “Teach them the future”. It was an odd state of events. Either way, Ambassador Falxen needed to go to the meeting, so he did.

Arriving promptly, he sat down with his entourage in the waiting room, wondering how exactly the old ambassador seemed to do all of this so easily.

Undisclosed Location, New Hayesalia
It was getting closer to the time when he would destroy the New Hayesalian economy. However, he wanted them to deserve it first. More than now, anyways, he rationalized. There was still something that needed to be decided. He could either poison the food supply, which might not work…or do something far more damaging in the long term. His men had already gone into the fields, preparing for the latter option. They were almost done. He had put all of the workers who usually ran the fields on paid vacation for the most part, except for management. They were having endless meetings, and would be having them until he was done. After all, if a single one of them caught wind of what he was planning, Monzearth yarned on about mentally, he wouldn’t be able to do it as effectively. He had already heard of the New Hayesalian Navy’s movements. If they did what he thought he did, his plan to disrupt the economy would be doubly devastating. He, of course, would finally announce himself to the world by that time, to dig it into the skulls of the foreign fools who was in control here. Zellatia would be the dominant one in the relationship if there was to be a relationship at all. He knew…he knew that things at home would never be the same. He’d lied to himself so many times that they would, if New Hayesalia got out of the way. The change, however, had already begun. The Emperor was a different breed, outward looking and bright.

Blood. Blood for blood, ashes for ashes, betrayal for betrayal. The man he’d funded was now dead, by an assassin’s hand. What was this all for? To shake the New Hayesalians out of their self-righteous fervor? Was that his goal? Damage. Pain. Hate. All of these things and more were the goal of his acts. Nonetheless, it was going to be soon. His blood had spilt enough. Especially as of late. He didn’t have very much longer….

[New Hayesalia]

FOREIGN MINISTER'S OFFICE LOBBY, PARLIAMENT COMPLEX

"Minister, your 12 o'clock has arrived."

The Minister acknowledged the phone call and placed the reciever down. From ther corner office she could see a lot. The large building hosting the Senate and the House of Representatives and the Revnami skyline were easily visible, tall skyscrapers dotting the horizons. Potion moved, established on ring cities. Visibility was exceptional today, even for a country which for such remarkable environmental protection policies. Cars had by and large been banned in New Hayesalia, and while the road infrastructure was maintained, public transport was largely conducted by gondola lifts. Really though, New Hayesalia had earned the claim that it was a city for walking.

The Minister checked her hair before exiting. She was a middle-aged and very large lady, with a tendency to worry. A number of gaffes had plagued her somewhat- accidentally saying she 'wasn't the suppository of all worldly information' stood out. She walked down the hall the to the impressive lobby. Along the walls were the flags of each New Hayesalian province and centrally the New Hayesalian national flag. A number of portraits also adorned the walls. The ambassador and a number of his staff were waiting, sitting in comfortable chairs. Behind the reception desk, engraved in the marble, was a representation of the New Hayesalian coat of arms rendered in a light layer of gold. The ambassador looked interestedly at it, admiring the craftsmanship and the design.

She emerged around the corner of the wide hallway. A variety of flags were arranged, the flags of countries New Hayesalia maintained strong diplomatic relations with. Zellatia's was down the far end, as the flags were arranged alphabetically.

"Ambassador Falxen, welcome to Parliament Complex. I trust you travelled well?"

The ambassador replied he had.

"That's excellent to hear. Please, follow me."

She began to lead the Zellatian down the corridor, talking as they walked.

"It's a pleasure to have you here. Given your position I decided it was important I fit you in as soon as possible. As I understand it you're concerned about NH military posturing. I'd like to assure you that while my government is considering whether or not to go ahead with the mission, no actions will be taken until you know about it."

The pair sat in the office, at the coffee table. A fresh plate of fruit skewers including mango, pineapple, melons and the famed blue strawberries among other tropical fruits had been laid out. A small sunflower poked out from the top, the national flower of New Hayesalia. The Zellatian entourage also sat in the plush chairs, the backs of which were emblazoned with the coat of arms. A large New Hayesalian flag stood behind the Minister's desk, and next to a bookcase.

The ambassador brought out a recorder. "I'm sure you'll understand, Your Excellency, that the recorder I use will be used so that we can maintain a record of this conversation. Is that a concern to you?"

The ambassador replied it was not, as he tried a fruit skewer.

"Well Mr Ambassador, I am all ears."

[Zellatia]

Ambassador Falxen was not so sure of the New Hayesalian minister’s claims. This was due more to the new government, instead of, of course, the woman herself. She seemed not so confident in her words, however, and that was definitely NOT a good thing to have if you were supposed to speak to other nations. He could swear that if he pressed her hard enough, he could ask for some of the home islands and she would actually consider it. He hadn’t even brought up the military posturing, but it seemed that she mistook the primary reason for the meeting to be that. Taking a few pages out of his binder that he’d brought, he handed her something that should look familiar.

“The Greater Island Kingdom, provided the support of the Zellatian Government, wishes to express our agreement to this proposal. The Greater Island Kingdom recognizes the self-determination of the FSP. In return for the settlement of the noted Zellatian land, the FSP will agree to the following conditions of transfer:

Zellatian citizens living here will be permitted to take up new citizenship, with dual citizenship, and be afforded all rights of other citizens;
Be permitted to live and work in the new country;
Or be compensated the market price of their home, transport to a designated location in Zellatia, and an equivalent sum of US$150,000 per person.
Assets belonging to private citizens must be moved at the public expense.
Assets belonging to Zellatia (such as government vehicles) will be shipped to Zellatia at the public expense.

The Greater Island Kingdom has agreed to transfer its own territory of Mizana to Zellatia to maintain a presence in the region.

In regards to the following points, the Greater Island Kingdom presents some conditions or reservations.
a) War crimes are a major offense. All war crimes will be fully addressed by judicial systems in Zellatia. In the case of military personnel, they will remain subject to the New Hayesalian-Zellatian Military Discipline Act, under the Garrison Convention. After any sentencing, they may serve these in an FSP prison. Other crimes will be addressed on a case by case basis, however most minor felonies will be permitted passage. All fines or citations must still be paid to the Zellatian Government.

b) The new FSP government will be responsible for the organization of passage, however the New Hayesalian and Zellatian Governments will agree to a cease-fire.

c) Depending on the sentences of the prisoners in question, they may be given passage. War crimes will still be prosecuted.

d) The FSP government will be given funding for the following departments:
Justice
Equality
Skills
Energy
Health
Education
Universities
International Aid (food and basic necessities)

The FSP guarantees the demining operation of the harbour. The New Hayesalian Navy and Air Force can provide operational support if required. All prisoners can be returned to a specified point, which will be named at a time of mutual agreement. Reparations have been covered by the Zellatian Government to military personnel. Instead of direct reparations, an annual sum may be paid to the Zellatian Government. The final two agreements are acceptable.

Furthermore, the FSP nation will agree to hold democratic elections at regular intervals. Any military or paramilitary forces will be banned from the manufacture or possession of any nuclear, chemical or biological weapons.

The Greater Island Kingdom is willing to put behind us a chapter of misery and rebellion. The GIK understands the determination of states- the history of New Hayesalia is itself dotted by it- however an armed and armoured rebellion can never be an acceptable change of government. To move forward, our nations both current and future must agree to compromise, even at the taunts of 'weakness.' Indeed, this accord will be seen in times to come as an Act of extraordinary strength, calling for the agreements of two enemies to shake hands.

Should this agreement be accepted, an Act will be drafted to be signed by the Emperor of Zellatia and the leader of the new nation, to be signed in a major city. We await your response.

Official Message of the Greater Island Kingdom of New Hayesalia
Compatiens, Libera, et Contumax”

As soon as he noted that she read over it, he continued to actually speak, “This is the primary reason I am here today. To right a wrong that your nation put on mine, this is the thing that asks for paramount discussion.” Getting another piece of mango off his skewer, he leaned back in his chair, pondering what to say next, “We want New Hayesalian Fruria. In exchange, all New Hayesalian citizens will be given free passage back to New Hayesalia or become Zellatian citizens. We are prepared to pay for the land, but given the recent snafu with our diplomatic communications, we would rather not. In this deal, by the way, we shall take care of the compensation for all future FSP related terrorist activities”.

The Zellatian Ambassador looked out the window for a moment, admiring the clear skies of the Capital of New Hayesalia. Zellton City was a mess of buildings in comparison, but that was mostly due to differing population issues, stemming from the fact that Zellton City was several much older cities smashed together. They weren’t a settler state, like New Hayesalia was. Zellton City, the sum of it, was seven thousand years of continued settlement crashing in on itself. That alone made it impressive in size and scope.

Turning back to the minister, he sighed and continued, “Also, there is, of course, continued cooperation of the New Hayesalians regarding the top ten FSP commanders at large. There are still nine of the original ten unaccounted for, and we believe the Number Four on the list is responsible for the recent issues in your nation. He’s likely changed his name if he’s a legal citizen. Number eight, Hydronsus’, death is of course our reason for discussion in the first place, mostly due to the chaos he wrought. We hope that recent…movements by the New Hayesalian military isn’t something that would violate our sovereignty, correct?”

“On top of THAT”, he began, “We have intelligence that suggests that the remaining eight fugitives escaped Zellatia…through New Hayesalia. We even have some limited intelligence that might even suggest that the scientist who stole the nuclear device that exploded off the southern coast…is currently working with New Hayesalian intelligence. Can you please explain that to me?”

[New Hayesalia]

The Foreign Minister was slightly caught offguard. She read and reread the document which had been set by the Federal Liberal Government.

"Ah, Ambassador. I should remind you this is not our government, and this is one of many issues on our agenda. This document was also a draft document, which was only valid if your government had signed it off. Whether that happened I cannot unfortunately recall..."

She put down the page, and responded to the Ambassadors question.

"In terms of Fruria, this is going to be something I'll need to discuss a bit more with Minister for Internal Affairs, Leda Wildt. As I understand, New Hayesalian Fruria is practically not there. We put barely any money into it, about a few hundred people moved there for generally fundamentalist ideals or to be alone. I know Edwin, Prime Minister Bolt that is, isn't focused on giving Fruria back. Mostly, the Cabinet is focused on discussing the FSP issue. I'm due back at his office at 2:30."

"My understanding, as according to the Defence Minister, is that the Zellatian commanders you mentioned have an entire room the the Intelligence Corps HQ dedicated to them. In response to whether the Navy is out to violate your waters, according to claims by some right-wing media in your country, is bull-hickey." The Minister took another skewer. "The Navy is basically there if we need them and if we don't so what. Furthermore, I dont know about your intelligence. In my role I have a Cabinet level clearance which is second only to Prime Minister Only, and to work in our Intelligence Corps requires a Top Secret clearance at least. To get that we have to be able to track your past back ten years and they will ruthlessly figure you out. The amount of times I got asked about my Twitter photos..." She was about to laugh but nervously trailed off as the Ambassador looked intentively at her.

"Look, I'm sure then Military is well-positioned to pick this up. We are working to figure out who did this and we are willing to help you secure Fruria. I believe Prime Minister Bolt was enquring about a visit from the Emperor. Perhaps we can use this as an opportunity to make the hand over? Public opinion for a handover is quite positive, many people see it as a waste of money that was the fault of the Fed Libs. I'll pass your concerns onto the Defence Minister as well."

[Zellatia]

Considering what she had said, Ambassador Falxen was among other things, disappointed. Given how highly the Zellatian public held Hayes, even despite several problems, a public appearance with Bolt might be a bad thing. However, it was something that the Emperor had already considered and approved, "Very well, Madame Foreign Minister, that seems reasonable, visa vis a meeting regarding Fruria is a good thing. However, there are still issues regarding our intel. If we even figure out with 100% certainty that the New Hayesalian intelligence is involved with helping one of the top ten wanted men and women of the FSP, then there will be rather public ramifications."

Mulling over her words, he felt like he was talking to someone with plenty of social experience in politics, but not enough experience dealing with it. A people pleaser, so to say. The meeting was over either way, and unless she had concerns as well to bring up, there was nothing else to talk about, "Well, then, if that is everything that needs to be discussed today, I would think it is now time for this meeting to come to an end. Is there anything you'd like to discuss first so we're on a level playing field in this regard?"

((Again, sorry for the short post))

[New Hayesalia]

"I'm sure the Intelligence Corps has no agenda in helping the FSP Ambassador. I'm sure if we have any other issues later on we can discuss it, but it's good that we've had this meeting."

The Foreign Minister and the Ambassador stood and shook hands, as did the Zellatian's staff. "I'm sure the organisation for the Emperor's trip will be sent to you soon. We'll draft an agreement over Fruria for you as well. Thank you again for coming through."

With that, the Ambassador saw them off and had staff begin to develop a few documents, as she wrote a minute for the Prime Minister.

(short post, I'll be TGing you)

[Zellatia]

Arrival

The flight to Revnami's Airport had been a bit of a bumpy one, Emperor Zellan mused, wondering how exactly he'd find the new Prime Minister of New Hayesalia. He'd always been warm towards Hayes, as he had been in charge during all of the pivotal times in the Emperor's life, from the Second Civil War, when he'd taken control of Zellatia from his assassinated father, to the Insurrection. Even with Hayes mistake with the rebels, he held more than a modicum of respect for someone he often considered an equal. So far, he only saw Bolt as a showboater with no real substance. His response to the failed FSP assault on their largest building had been lackluster in his opinion, and drowned in propaganda, but it had been what the nation apparently needed, so it was acceptable. The troop movements however...would be dealt with. Same with the intelligence that one of the remaining threats to Zellatian national security, the Nuclear Scientist that had gone rogue, Amalie Gyr, was in the custody of New Hayesalia, and giving over Zellatian nuclear secrets was enough to make him possibly lose composure. The idea that New Hayesalia would take advantage of Zellatian trust was something he didn't think would happen, but with Bolt's ascension...all he could do was worry.

Stepping out of the plane to greet the Prime Minister in front of the troops there, Zellan resisted the urge to hold onto his gun holster. Something about Bolt already put him on edge, although it was likely due to his odd physical resemblance to General Destronikan, despite their ethnic and positional differences. Conservatives always seemed to be the ones who held Zellatia back when it was at the worst time possible, and seeing a conservative like Bolt elected had made him feel on edge, "Prime Minister", he began, walking with him, "So glad to see you today. The weather looks like it has improved drastically since I was last here. There was quite a lot of rain that day. Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

He wondered how this meeting would turn out, and hoped to his ancestors that everything would go smoothly.

[New Hayesalia]

NORTH REVNAMI AIR FORCE BASE

While there was a presence of the press, the meeting was low key. The Emperor disembarked from his large aircraft, white and green, from the front of the plane. His staff, and the Official Foreign Delegation, were shuffled off from the back. The aircraft had been readied for the Emperor to exit it. The airstairs had the roundel of the New Hayesalian Air Force on the side, and a short, female New Hayesalian Air Force Corporal stood in dress uniform to the left of the door, welcoming the Emperor as he left the aircraft.

At the bottom of the airstairs was a New Hayesalian and a Zellatian flag, set to either side. A blue carpet had been rolled out, and to the right side of the stairs stood Prime Minister Edwin Bolt, and his wife Anita. Along with them stood the Foreign Minister and a few staff. A small military contingent of about 30 soldiers, sailors and airmen were armed with (innocuous) Ripper Mk3s, and standing to attention. As the Emperor passed them, their commander called them to attention.

The Emperor and the Prime Minister exchanged their greetings, with the Emperor being quite forward. Bolt was charismatic, but not quite so much as Hayes nor the Emperor. "Well Your Majesty," he began, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Compared to Destroniki, the Prime Minister was a fair few inches shorter and had bright red hair. He had a square and fit frame, but his voice was somewhat raspy, almost whispy though tough. The Prime Minister, his wife- whom had exchanged a greeting with the Emperor- were escorted into the well-armoured and very comfortable limousine- with NH and Zellatian flags on the bonnet.

Along a highway, raised though only a few lanes wide due to the general lack of traffic in New Hayesalia's cities after the strict regulation of cars, a convoy of Prime Ministerial vehicles went down along the way. Turning off at Parliament Road, to the extensive and impressive Parliament Complex. Behind the Complex was a large and open field, known as the Parade Ground. Typically used for landing helicopters, large functions, or even concerts, it was designed for the military to parade on it, hence the name. Today, New Hayesalia's Amalgamation Guard was out in force.

On the finely trimmed grounds of the Parade Grounds, three hundred military personnel had turned out in full dress uniform in three companies. An additional 100 had roles other than that in the parade- including the tri-service band. To distinguish themselves, every person in the unit including the Parade Commander, an Army Colonel with short brown hair and a frame that seemed to completely fill his uniform with strength and a young face of about 45, wore a sky blue beret. On it was the coat of arms of New Hayesalia, cast in silver.

The three companies each wielded Ripper Mk 3 rifles on white slings, excluding their individual commanders who had swords. From left to right, the Navy, Army and Air Force stood in ranks 5 deep and 20 across. Ten paces behind the very precise space of the companies was the Band, including the Drum Corps and the Military Choir.

Towards Parliament, an audience of around 3,000 men, women and children were seated in elegant stands. Generally, these people were dual New Hayesalian-Zellatian citizens, or had some sort of involvement with the countries. Behind them, on the two great walls of two buildings, generally a strong white, a gigantic New Hayesalian and just as large Zellatian flag were hung vertically. Just in front of them, a gravel road separated the grass parade ground. It was here that the limousine drive upon, headed to the raised dias to review the parade. On the way up to the dias was an honour guard, with the flag of every New Hayesalian province being held high by a military member.

The limousine had arrived. Two sailors, an Able Seaman and a Leading Seaman, opened the doors of the limo. Emerging to applause were the Emperor and the Prime Minister and spouse. The PA echoed, announcing their arrivals. The Parade Commander approached the Prime Minister and the Emperor- though not Anita- inviting them to the dias. He escorted them up, before marching to his position to start the next part of the parade, which would be the Amassed Banner arrival.

"March on, the Ensign of the New Hayesalian Navy! Quick..."

Upon his command, two drum rolls rang out, played simultaneously by a total of eight drummers. Following this, the New Hayesalian Military Band began playing the Navy March. The Ensign Party, made up of a Lieutenant holding the white, silver and red flag with the normal flag of NH in the canton marched out escorted by two Leading Seamen to his side, and a female Warrant Officer behind him, wielding a sword. The Party formed themselves precisely five steps before the Navy Company, and the music ceased as they did.

"March on, the Ensign of the New Hayesalian Air Force! Quick..."

The drums rolled on again, before the band began playing the Air Force March, as a group of Air Force personnel of equivalent rank made the march, with their mostly sky-blue flag. They too stopped five paces ahead of their company, despite a longer march, before the music came to a halt.

The Army, interestingly, did not have it's own flag. They were the protectors of the New Hayesalian flag, and as such it represented them. This was the reason that Naval and Air ensigns exist, not only in New Hayesalia but worldwide. Nonetheless, the Army was invited to march with their flag, and that of Zellatia. The difference was that their flags were encased, held in fine, black, cloth covers.

"March on, the Flag Party! Quick..."

Two more drum rolls, and the Army March was played. The man holding the Zellatian flag stayed in perfect step with the woman holding the New Hayesalian flag, both of the rank of Captain.

"Uncase, the Flags! Parade, general salute, atten-tion!"

Upon his command, every member of the parade, hundreds, snapped. Legs flew up into a perfect 15cm rise and back down again, as Ripper rifles were beared and pointed towards the sky in front of the individual members, their hands in front of the trigger guard in salute. Swords were brought high, and flags moved as the parties too came to straight attention.

The Flag party now removed the black casings in unison, the Parade Warrant Officers doing so. They held the cloths, before storing them in white bags attached to their belts. They then marched to their original places.

The PA system came back to life, with the voice saying:

"Please stand for the National Anthems of the Empire of Zellatia and the Greater Island Kingdom of New Hayesalia."

With that, the band played the Zellatian anthem, a strong and militaristic piece not unlike Zellatia itself. Immediately following, the New Hayesalian anthem, Alight, was played.

In more pomp and vigour, the two leaders were invited to inspect the parade, which they did so to the Inspection music played by the band- The Battle of Egis. They walked alog the rows of military personnel who stood back at ease by companies after the two had finished. They also made a lap past the grandstands, shaking hands with and meeting the public.

After this, the Emperor was invited to present his speech, which was like the rest of this parade, being publicly broadcasted.

[Zellatia]

As Emperor Zellan III Destroniki, Emperor of the Democratic Empire of Zellatia approached the podium, he felt the tension of the event weighing heavily on him. Only in his late 20's, his dark brownish hair was already beginning to see specks of gray in them, stress related from having to manage the world's likely largest and most diverse democratic empire in the world. The only one, as far as he had notice. The legislature was gaining in strength and just before he had left, the vote for a new position was held, one of Prime Minister. The new Prime Minister, should the law pass, would have some economic duties, on top of domestic policy, and would have the power to veto laws that the Emperor did. Gulping, he reached the podium.

He began his speech.

"My friends, allies, I am Emperor Zellan, ruler of Zellatia by it's people's demand. As you well know, I am many other things as well. The Husband of Princess Talia of New Hayesalia, father of three wonderful children, the eldest of the surviving sons of the former Emperor Zellath IX, the Reformer of Zellatia, but the most important title, I've felt as of late, next to my title as my people's champion, is Friend of New Hayesalia. When my country descended into civil war, not once, but twice, New Hayesalia has been there. We have supported New Hayesalian action in many places, be it on the sea and on the land, and we have both sacrificed much.

This era is one of tumult, and one of discord. People from my nation have harmed yours and the same is true for people of this nation. Real blood has been spilled for one cause or another, just or otherwise. My father died to these troubles, just as his family died. My strength is the legacy of my family's long line, the longest continued monarchy is recorded human history. I may look odd to you, with my skin the color of a bird's egg, but I am nonetheless the same as all of you. Human. What I've seen over the recent days has been blame and racism. This must end.

Men from my nation have been responsible for horrible things over the last few days. We have sent over as much information to the New Hayesalian government as we have been able to, despite some communication mix-ups."

He looked over to Bolt, almost giving him a suspicious look, "But we are still friends. I am glad that our nations have always and will always stand together side by side against the crisis that have enraptured the world's and our attentions. We are allies against all those who would harm either of us and I do not hesitate to say that in times of crisis we serve each other's needs and help each other triumph over adversity.

Which is why it pains me to say this, as it will likely make the next few years difficult to manage, perhaps, between us. I am hereby announcing an additional item on the agenda. We must renegotiate the Garrisson agreement in order to stop such tragedies happening for future generations, but it will make travel, among other things, frozen between our countries until the agreement is properly hammered out and all flights not already in the air shall be grounded. I will take questions now, from the press, should they have any."

The Emperor gritted his teeth as he awaited the barrage of questions. He already knew that today would be uncomfortable, but he'd only realized what he had needed to do as he descended from the plane. He could only hope that the backlash was not too terrible...but he'd soon find out.

[New Hayesalia]

The crowd applauded, though many glanced towards each other and exchanged a few words as they clapped. Bolt took to the podium, his speech like the Emperors already placed there. He began to read his speech, having spent a large part of the last night memorising it though there was some pressure to match the charisma of his predecessor. This was his first National Arrival Ceremony- and he had to make it count.

His somewhat raspy, though strong voice- developed after a good decade in New Hayesalia's Parliament and it's predecessor- caught the attention of the crowd and the press. It was strong, though lacked the unique tone that Hayes had previously mastered and used to captivate and hold his audience. His presentation seemed rehearsed, but much to his credit, not forced.

"The relations between our countries are strong, refined by the cultural connections we cherish, the common values we exhibit and hold dear and in times of exceptional adversity, a tight brotherhood. We welcome some of our closest friends, one of our dearest allies. To the Emperor, and the Zellatian delegation, on behalf of the New Hayesalian people, it is my great honour to welcome you to the Greater Island Kingdom of New Hayesalia."

The assembled crowd applauded and cheered for nearly ten seconds before it pattered away, and the Prime Minister continued.

"The New Hayesalian Government, and all Members of Parliament and the Senate, welcome you to the Parliament Complex. It has been nearly 200 years since the first recorded exchanges between Hayesalians and Zellatians. Though our ties were never developed as they have been recently, especially with the Amalgamation of our Hayesalian Union."

"The Zellatian people stun me with their drive. They face national challenges of a sort in quick succession, unseen by many other countries and unthought of by more. Their struggle is global, but the world often remains apathetic. We have heard the Emperor's thanks to New Hayesalia. And it is time that as the leader of this country, I thank the Zellatian people for what they give our nation."

"We thank them for their business. For companies freely able to use the resources of our nations to complement each other, to create world-class products and services. We thank them for the opportunity for job creation, something millions of New Hayesalians are thankful for. We thank them for sharing their culture, one of stamina of unequalled capacity, and we share with them our undying belief in fairness, and the pursuit of equality and the right of each man and woman to blaze their own path and to work with others to pursue their dreams."

"Most importantly, our countries stand in the belief that our citizens should live outside of fear. The fear that groups which seek to pervert the course of nation building; of democracy; of fair course and human rights should not do so by armed rebellion against their countrymen. We stand in the defence not only of our own countries, but of the union and friendship that binds them. We have proven our commitment, even now in the face of challenges to our security."

Bolt knew he had to go off-script. Indeed, the Emperor's announcement to freeze the Garrisson agreement, as well as apparently grounding flights to New Hayesalia, was problematic at best. For now, Bolt needed to take it positively.

"In light of the decision made by the Emperor, my Government will make it a priority to discuss with the Emperor the conditions which he has set forth in his ah, goal to reduce conflict in New Hayesalia. Hopefully a workable solution will be found quickly, in conjunction with the Zellatian civil government."

"In closing, I again welcome the Emperor and his delegation, and we offer the fullest hospitality of New Hayesalia as we begin to discuss our issues, and more importantly, our solutions. Thank you."

Bolt stepped away, and the crowd again applauded. The two leaders stood aside each other on the raised dias, as the parade commander marched to to stand a precise five paces away from the steps leading onto the parade.

"Prime Minister, your Highness, I request your permission to march off the Parade."

The Prime Minister and Emperor both gave their approval, and the Parade commander saluted before about turning, advancing another five paces, and making his next command.

"Parade, ATTEN-TION!"

In perfect sync, the hundreds of personnel on the parade snapped their feet to a 15cm height and brought them to the grass. They held the foregrips of their weapons tight and mentally prepared for the next command.

"Parade will form column at route! Move to the right in column at route! Riiiight TURN!"

Again, the companies turned precisely on their heels, each highly polished shoe thudding into the ground in unison. Officers, as well as the banner parties, marched into the spaces that separated them. Before each company would come their ensign. The band, while technically a marching band, was very progressive in it's inclusion of strong instrument. It also made them sound somewhat better to remain still. A single bass drum strike resounded, and the banner parties formed to face the same direction.

"Parade, by the centre, QUIICK-"

The band began to play the Tri-Service War March, Entering the Stronghold as the parade marched. They turned as the music picked up pace, and turned again as the band played a particularly rousing part. Under commands of their individual leaders, the companies set their eyes to the right, in a salute to the Emperor and the Prime Minister. Again starting at the second turn, the Gun Battery began firing their 21-gun salute for the Emperor. The 19th shot rang out as the Air Force company passed through, and disappeared with the rest into the courtyard of the Parliament Complex to a different area. The remaining three fired, and only the band remained on the parade with the Parade Commander still a few metres from the dias. With the 21st shot, the band stopped, and the crowd applauded as did the Emperor and Prime Minister. The Parade Commander turned once more to address the dias, announcing the Parade was over. With that, a white Audi A8 arrived with coat of arms and flags, and the same sailors opened the doors. The two leaders exchanged pleasantries, shook hands, did a final wave to the crowd and clambered in before being whisked away.

The driver, a Royal Montmarian Guard in a finely tailored suit, told the pair that they would be taken to a reception at the Official Residence of the Prime Minister, on a spit off the coastline of Revnami, about 10km from the city. There was unspoiled nature, and the top end of the spit was generally closed to the public except for tours. The Residence was known as Point Luhas House and was now the home of Edwin Bolt. It was right on the beach, and offered unspoiledviews.

The Prime Minister was however not the happiest man when the cameras were off. He looked the Emperor in the eyes with a focused emotion- not exactly anger, but more a frustration.

"You know, I might'nt be the best political scientist, but what were you thinking? Did you just unilaterally freeze the Garrisson Agreement? Ground New Hayesalian planes in Zellatia? The WA, the bloody International Transport Safety Committee, they're going to want to have all sorts of inquests into that and I'm damn sure the New Hayesalian Chamber of Economics isn't gonna be bloody pleased! You know that one of the members there is the head of Air NH, and you'll be meeting a bunch of these people? With all due respect sir, what made you want this?"

[Zellatia]

Rolling his eyes at the Prime Minister, Zellan knew what it looked like. However, he never intended to actually do what it seemed to be, so he responded quite quickly, "Well, Prime Minister Bolt, you should be relieved. I didn't actually nullify the Agreement. In order to do that, according to the agreement itself's modifications before you came into office, the full agreement anyway, not the more public one, I'd have to have either Grand Admiral von Leone or one of my other cabinet members with me to do it, you know, in case I was kidnapped and forced to do this against my will. All planes are moving as normal. As we both know, there's a growing problem in your country that's about to get far more serious. We've uncovered the dissident who is behind your recent issues, although your intelligence agencies' complete lack of coordination with the Zealites didn't exactly help matters. That was for the cameras to lure him into a false sense of security. You are lucky that we were paying attention to our people when you weren't."

He knew that Bolt was shocked by the look on his face as he further explained who the culprit was. The emperor began quickly after he stopped before Bolt could get an frustrated sputtering out, "Gair Monzearth. He now owns a tenth of your nation's agriculture and was planning on destroying it. He was going to act today if we were still acting chummy, but now we have a two day window to strike against him. So unless you want to be known as the Prime Minister who let New Hayesalia's economy plummet into the ground within a month of taking office, be my guest and ignore me. Ancestors knows that Hayes began to near the end, even though we are still friends, and I expect you to understand that despite my nation's beginning dislike of you, they will warm up to you in time. However, as much as I hate to say this, we need to plan a joint operation while pretending that we are renegotiating our deal in the next hour or so BEFORE Monzearth checks the news or you will find commodity prices exploding through the roof even if you put price controls in, are we understood?"

He breathed, knowing this was a lot to take in. He had carefully planned this out on the plane ride over, so he needed complete compliance with his plans or else things would escalate very quickly as Monzearth realized that he had been tricked. In order for this to even work in the first place he had to trick everyone that he could, save for his intelligence agency and domestic departments that regulated travel. Political theater was always best done when no one excepting the speaker knew that it was a play. He knew that it would be difficult to keep up the ruse, but such events were part of his tutoring back when his father was...stilll......

His father would be proud of his performance. More important matters needed to be attended to first and foremost. He turned to Bolt again and interrupted whatever he was going to say, "To top this all off, we'll need to simply add an addendum to the agreement in regards to migrants from Zellatia. However, we'll need to look like we're haggling in order for the both of us to look good after the fiasco of a press conference as you'd call it. Believe me, it was not my intention to throw you off like this, but it was necessary to not tell you until afterwards to tell you the reason why I had to frustrate you. I hope that things only go uphill from here, Prime Minister Bolt."

He looked out the window of the moving cavalcade of vehicles, hoping to god that Bolt wasn't tempted to just let his rage or frustration out on him. He wouldn't blame the man, but now wasn't the time for it and he hoped Bolt felt the same way. Zealite intelligence had been working tirelessly, even to the point where several experience agents had been killed or permanently incapacitated, but chances were Monzearth knew none of it. Monzearth's organization, while run specifically by him at the head was a three-headed dragon. Monzearth was in charge of the planning and financial areas of the enterprise, a man named Horatio Jillinger, a foreigner of some sort, it wasn't exactly clear where Jillinger was from, was in charge of security, and a rather apparently clean woman named Genevieve Ko'ata was in charge of the personel. While they couldn't legally arrest Miss Ko'ata, they could try to go after Jillinger and Monzearth at the same time. However...evidence had shown Jillinger appearing during the Insurrection, the Second Civil War, even the conflicts in Zellatia's early branching out. He appeared to be either far older than his current file told them...or he wasn't human. That or it was a family business, but given that Jillinger's fingerprints looked the same, it seemed unlikely. It would be a difficult game to play, but such was the game of cat and mouse that involved intelligence. What he hoped he didn't have to tell Bolt was that the FSP had a New Hayesalian spy on the inside of their intelligence agency and had been infiltrated since before the Insurrection. The spy still hadn't been caught, but given that the Emperor wasn't privy to that particular nugget of information, he couldn't give Bolt a single thing to go on.

It could always get worse.

[New Hayesalia]

"Monzearth? I had to deal with him a few times in Chamber meetings. Weird guy, really." Bolt mused. "But what you're telling me is that there's an import billionaire who has a goal of economic terrorism? Sounds like bullshit. What's he gonna do, salt and burn all the fields? We have an export agricultural economy, and I admit that prices could very well jump but I really fail to see how this is as important as the FSP bastards who are hijacking airliners and attempting to take down our buildings. Those guys are the real threat, and let me assure you that this country is still pretty damn unhappy about that. We should arrive in about a half an hour. If what you're saying about this window of opportunity is true, there's only one person I really trust to organise this. Air Chief Marshal Jordan Scotts has run a number of military missions, and she's currently the head of the Air Force. I'm sure you already know her, especially after the last war." With that, Bolt took up his mobile phone and asked to be connected to Scotts. Half a minute later, he had asked her to speak to the Emperor upon arriving."She'll be at the reception." Bolt said, simply- he was obviously still mulling over this information.

Bolt had a moment to think about his own look at the wreckage, and the hours of briefs that followed. It was hardly reminiscent of the eocnomic policies he had advertised in his campaign trail. Revnami glistened in the sun, now sinking over the city. The motorcade travelled around the CBD- some people lined the streets, but there was hardly a gigantic interest in the Emperor's arrival. Revnami was placed between long strips of beaches, sand that seemed to travel for miles upon miles and skyscrapers built along the yellow line of sand; and mountains that were more like short hills, grasslands moving over them and the canopy hiding a lush rainforest just atop and behind the mountains. The road to the Prime Minister's residence travelled through this rainforest, tall trees and lush green giving the vehicle shade, with breaks in the trees letting in the sunset light. Clouds had seemed to turn purple and red, the sun dropping over the horizon. At 5:50 pm, the Prime Ministerial convoy had arrived at Point Luhas Street. The archway of trees led to the well lit front of the house. At the circular end of the road, the limousine pulled up. Photographers and journalists were set up just away from the road to record the arrival.

"Your Highness, welcome to Point Luhas House." said Bolt. Two soldiers dressed in their dress uniforms, a Lance Corporal and a Private, opened the doors, stood aside and saluted. The two men got out of the car, waved to the press and walked together up the stairs, a red carpet rolled over. Above the large double doors were a New Hayesalian and Zellatian flag. The two men, with Bolt now joined by his wife at the door, turned around to wave to the press, as well as shake hands. A House Staff worker in a tuxedo, a pin depicting the front of the house on his lapel, ushered the three to the outdoor courtyard. The sun was low, and looking out over the ocean the cloud had turned purple red. The courtyard though was well lit and comfortable, yet discreet.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the Prime Minister of New Hayesalia and his wife, Mr and Mrs Edwin Bolt, and the Emperor of Zellatia and Earl of Montmaray, His Highness Zellan Destroniki."

The assorted guests, about a hundred total in military mess dress and well fitted suits and lounge dresses, applauded. To the side, the Navy Band played fanfare, and would throughout the night play a series of chamber music pieces.

There would be little time however for the crowd to immediately meet the Emperor. As the three stepped down, a woman in a military mess dress approached. She was Air Force, her deep blue coat and dress over a white shirt. She wore a dark blue beret with a black band, upon which was the badge of the NHAF and a single, fairly large diamond. She also wore a number of small medals- including the Order of New Hayesalia. Jordan Scotts had made her way over. Her strong jawline and notably youthful face for such a high-ranking officer seemed strange, but she had proved her worth many times over.

"Your Highness, pleasure to see you again. I've been told you have some information. With your permssion sir," she said, looking towards Bolt, "I'd like to speak to the Emperor privately."

"Of course, Air Marshal." Bolt replied.

"Sir. Your Highness, if you'l follow me?" she finished, gesturing towards one of many living rooms.