Azadistani Commonwealth VS Munkchester(over)

[Democratic Exodian Territories]

Azadistani Commonwealth
Metropolitan Police Headquarters

Badi, now dressed in desert-camouflage fatigues, a superalloy ballistic vest and joint pads, and hiking boots, crept up beside a doorway near the back of the building. A tightened cloth shemagh, and under it, a single-filter gas mask covered his face, while a tan-colored infantry cap and a pair of headphones, complete with a mouthpiece, was on his head, and an advanced monocular optic was on his right eye. His sleeves were tightly wrapped in the same cloth as his shemagh- while it might sacrifice some camouflage, he felt more comfortable. That still wasn’t where his gear ended- the heavyset, heavily-armed man also wore a shoulder holster for his now-suppressed P2S-D, a shoulder strap for a customized X5 assault rifle, and a bandolier, with several pouches for jungle-style magazines and a few flashbang grenades. On his hip was a reinforced-tungsten crowbar, a small kit of lockpicks, a Jambiya dagger, and a “Serbu Super Shorty” in 12-gauge breaching shot.

It was midnight, perfect for this kind of operation. The city was far from most insurgent operations, so the Navy Special Operator had the highest element of surprise on his side. Somewhat mockingly, he softly whistles the Mission Impossible theme to himself.

He wrenches open the door with a gloved hand, checking if any Azadistani police had heard him, before swiftly disappearing inside.

Moving quickly towards the darkened hallway labeled “Category A Wing”, Badi takes the safety off of his pistol, before going to the farthest cell from a guard. Checking if the prisoner inside was sleeping, he then jams a lockpick into the keyhole and, for a moment, struggles before the lock opens with a slight click. Retreating behind a corner, he cautiously peers back towards the cell he unlocked, hoping any guards didn’t hear anything.

[Democratic Exodian Territories]

Above the Atlantic Ocean, 85 miles off the West Coast of Africa
Canary Islands

The RS-858X armored transport plane descended, its massive engines still roaring as the set of islands came into sight. Two XF-45 “Jericho” VTOL multirole jets escorted the hulking aircraft into Atkemrian airspace.

The Exodian Air Force pilot sent out the standard hail and landing request to the nearest ATC tower, while General Shawn Fowler, the Exodian Minister of Defense, sat down on a cushioned seat, nailed to the inside of the fuselage, while several other Exodian military leaders, Generals Oscar Fen (Air Force), Luke Charing, (Army), and Hamill Muscovy (Special Operations Division) were in similar positions, reclining on cushioned bundles such as empty rucksacks or sitting down in provided seats or benches. It certainly wasn’t luxurious or proper for men of their rank and clothing (most of them were in formal uniforms, with Fowler in a beret and dress greens), but it was the best thing they had- and besides, they’d all been through it when there was only a single stripe on their uniforms.

They all had good reason to be lucky- they’d taken off just before spy satellites had reported Azadistani naval movements in international waters, which had severely delayed the initial carrier groups that brought the Exodian component to the coming invasion. If they had received the intel a bit too late, the entire flight would have to be canceled due to hostile movements that could possibly intercept them.

Shang’s last words to him rang in Fowler’s mind.
“You’re in the hot seat now, man. Let’s do this.”
Holding his breath as the plane descended further, he wondered, a bit anxiously, concerning who he was going to meet and how to show Exodia’s expertise to these officers from allied nations- this was one of the few complete and total military operations he’d conducted on foreign soil.

As the 858X and its escorts touched down on Atkemrian soil at the airfields, a squadron of well-armed Exodian military police emerged, then Fowler and the rest of the generals, carrying their own luggage.

[Palmyrion]

OOC: Tell me, what just happened?

[Democratic Exodian Territories]

OOC: Tell me, what just happened?

OOC: Lord, it’s hard to explain. I only got a grip on it just a few days ago. Here’s what’s currently happening.

I’ve got an operative attempting to instigate a prison break in Azadistan, (it’s supposedly fine, since he’s somehow planted spies in Atkemri earlier), as well as amassing forces with Atkemri, PPC and other allies.

Azadistan’s mobilized the remainder of their Navy into international waters, delaying most of our operations, and they’re also busy starting guerilla resistance groups and trying to stop a rebellion we helped instigate.

[The Batavia]

OOC: Is it too late to join in or has the AA got this?

[Aresin]

OOC: Is it too late to join in or has the AA got this?

OOC: You could always do what I'm doing, and join anyways. This "war" is already over, but that's not to say we can't all benefit from getting involved in it.

[Democratic Exodian Territories]

OOC: Is it too late to join in or has the AA got this?

OOC:
Come one, come all, you’re just in time for the main event!

[The Batavia]

OOC: Is it too late to join in or has the AA got this?

OOC:
Come one, come all, you’re just in time for the main event!

OOC: Orly? What we doin'
(Also, I apologize for being a bad ally)

[Prussian Polish Commonwealth]

Canary Islands
Crassus stared out across the sea from his seat, the only luxury being a rolled-up empty sack acting as a cushion. The pilot spoke over the radio.
"Sir, we're approaching the LZ."
Crassus clicked his radio on and off in response. The UH-60 held steady over the helipad, where he rappeled down in front of Fowler, alongside 3 Fallschirmjaegers. He grave them a grin and a sloppy salute. "Good day, you all."

[West Leas Oros]

OOC: Is it too late to join in or has the AA got this?

OOC:
Come one, come all, you’re just in time for the main event!

Main event?

[Azadistan-land of the free]

Following the escape of a suspected traitor who was also been in investigated for terrorism, from an Azadistani police station, the Special Air Service is looking for said suspect of treason.
A captain of the Royal Military police says he will detain the suspect in his cells awaiting trial for treason and racially aggravated murder(something he has an arrest warrant for),something which Queen Bilqis(head of the SAS) agrees to,and the Federal Police say they will investigate him for crimes under the Agression Of Mercenaries Act.
Queen Bilqis: don't strike any civilians, you have to use these vouchers or if you wish your own money to pay for any extra food so that people cannot be forced to give you free food. Whoever arrests him shall if ranked private to Sargeant become an officer or if ranked officer be given a promotion to at least captain but possibly even colonel.

[Libraria and Ausitoria]

[OOC: Azadistan, stop going around fighting pointless wars. At some point you'll get into one that even Ausitoria can't save you from. IC:]

A short time previously

ICPF & ICAn
Gloria in Maere

By order of the International Commonwealth Agency

---

Liberal Protection Protocol - Annex AZ Extension

c.f. Liberal Protection Protocol Annex AZ

The International Commonwealth Agency ICAn hereby declares an exclusion zone of 2000 km around the coast of Azadistan.

For clarity, this exclusion zone is against invaders of the aforesaid country. Any craft found engaged in hostile maneuvers shall be taken or destroyed by the ICPF Air Force.

This zone will be introduced in 12 hours and last for one week unless otherwise specified. The ICA invites all parties to Panessos City, Panessos, for mediation and peace talks forthwith.

The ICA further requests and requires that Sultan Ahmed report to the International Arbitration Court forthwith, where concerned nations may bring charges.

Admiral Earl Pontiff looked up at the sky.

Overhead barrelled another aircraft. A triple decker. Ferrying yet more evacuees to Ausitoria. At this rate there would be no-one left in Azadistan.

And going in the opposite direction flew yet another fighter squadron.

This was the advantage of defending a hostile territory with runways you had constructed previously. It was the advantage of using an air force. It was fairly straightforward to put so many aircraft into Azadistan that it was simply unapproachable. No-one would have a large enough fleet air arm. It had now got to the point that not even the Ausitorians would have been able to land in Azadistan, even if they somehow, impossibly, gathered together their entire fleet for the first time in history. The fact was simple:

A land-based airforce can defeat a navy.

And here he was, sitting on his carrier, his one-million-tonne carrier, with three Ausitorian Battle Fleets, the largest concentrations of force that Ausitoria had put together in over a year. But he was left within range of the land-based airforce, and that meant he was utterly irrelevant to the calculation of force.

"Bloody walrus," he exclaimed, referring to the finally, finally, finally vindicated Air Strategos by his nickname.

[Azadistan-land of the free]

[OOC: Azadistan, stop going around fighting pointless wars. At some point you'll get into one that even Ausitoria can't save you from. IC:]

A short time previously

ICPF & ICAn
Gloria in Maere

By order of the International Commonwealth Agency

---

Liberal Protection Protocol - Annex AZ Extension

c.f. Liberal Protection Protocol Annex AZ

The International Commonwealth Agency ICAn hereby declares an exclusion zone of 2000 km around the coast of Azadistan.

For clarity, this exclusion zone is against invaders of the aforesaid country. Any craft found engaged in hostile maneuvers shall be taken or destroyed by the ICPF Air Force.

This zone will be introduced in 12 hours and last for one week unless otherwise specified. The ICA invites all parties to Panessos City, Panessos, for mediation and peace talks forthwith.

The ICA further requests and requires that Sultan Ahmed report to the International Arbitration Court forthwith, where concerned nations may bring charges.

Admiral Earl Pontiff looked up at the sky.

Overhead barrelled another aircraft. A triple decker. Ferrying yet more evacuees to Ausitoria. At this rate there would be no-one left in Azadistan.

And going in the opposite direction flew yet another fighter squadron.

This was the advantage of defending a hostile territory with runways you had constructed previously. It was the advantage of using an air force. It was fairly straightforward to put so many aircraft into Azadistan that it was simply unapproachable. No-one would have a large enough fleet air arm. It had now got to the point that not even the Ausitorians would have been able to land in Azadistan, even if they somehow, impossibly, gathered together their entire fleet for the first time in history. The fact was simple:

A land-based airforce can defeat a navy.

And here he was, sitting on his carrier, his one-million-tonne carrier, with three Ausitorian Battle Fleets, the largest concentrations of force that Ausitoria had put together in over a year. But he was left within range of the land-based airforce, and was utterly irrelevant to the calculation of force.

(A Text) Sultan Ahmed: thank you. If they attack your planes tell me and I will send our airforce to help you.

[Jackania yugo]

The ships of the Jackanian Navy tore through the sea like a knife through a thin foam cake. After quite a few hours and a pass through the "Gibraltar gap" as it was nicknamed, the fleet had arrived at the islands. However, none of the ships docked into any ports. They had to be vigilant in case of a attack by Azadistans fleet and/or it's allies...if it had any.

On the aircraft carrier, the flagships of the fleet, the JNC leviathan, a lone helicopter departed from the landing pad. It hovered through the air towards the manor house in the countryside, descending like a lift once it reached its destination. After the door slid open a large, pale man stepped out. Not large in the horizontal sense, but a vertical one. He was wearing mild blue jeans, a navy blue blazer over a plain white shirt and a silver tie. He had pale blue eyes (although you couldn't tell this by just looking at him as he had heavily shaded sunglasses), dark brown untidy hair, a thin face and black laced sneakers with bright blue parts near the bottom, along with that being the tint of the laces.

This was Jack Smith, with his usual "interesting" sense of fashion.

He quickly walked up to the house, going up the grey cobble steps. When he got to the back door he thrust the doors open before putting a stupid but euphoric grin on his face before shouting in a joyful manner...

"WHAT'S UP MOTHERFUCKERS? IT'S YOUR MAN JACK!"

[Azadistan-land of the free]

The ships of the Jackanian Navy tore through the sea like a knife through a thin foam cake. After quite a few hours and a pass through the "Gibraltar gap" as it was nicknamed, the fleet had arrived at the islands. However, none of the ships docked into any ports. They had to be vigilant in case of a attack by Azadistans fleet and/or it's allies...if it had any.

On the aircraft carrier, the flagships of the fleet, the JNC leviathan, a lone helicopter departed from the landing pad. It hovered through the air towards the manor house in the countryside, descending like a lift once it reached its destination. After the door slid open a large, pale man stepped out. Not large in the horizontal sense, but a vertical one. He was wearing mild blue jeans, a navy blue blazer over a plain white shirt and a silver tie. He had pale blue eyes (although you couldn't tell this by just looking at him as he had heavily shaded sunglasses), dark brown untidy hair, a thin face and black laced sneakers with bright blue parts near the bottom, along with that being the tint of the laces.

This was Jack Smith, with his usual "interesting" sense of fashion.

He quickly walked up to the house, going up the grey cobble steps. When he got to the back door he thrust the doors open before putting a stupid but euphoric grin on his face before shouting in a joyful manner...

"WHAT'S UP MOTHERFUCKERS? IT'S YOUR MAN JACK!"

-Azadistani navy and airforce bomb the ships-
Queen Aisha: get these fools!

[Libraria and Ausitoria]

Moving quickly towards the darkened hallway labeled “Category A Wing”, Badi takes the safety off of his pistol, before going to the farthest cell from a guard. Checking if the prisoner inside was sleeping, he then jams a lockpick into the keyhole and, for a moment, struggles before the lock opens with a slight click. Retreating behind a corner, he cautiously peers back towards the cell he unlocked, hoping any guards didn’t hear anything.

Azadistani Commonwealth
Metropolitan Police Headquarters

........zzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzz.... ....zzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzz....

A patrol drone, followed by another, whirred through the skies. One of Halcyon Arm's finest, i.e., one of the ICPF's finest, i.e., one of the Aestorian Commonwealth's finest. Magistrate Charles Sandwood, Administrator of the ICPF Guard, was taking no chances. He had the authority of the ICPF and he was slowly but surely converting the Azadistani Commonwealth into a surveillance state. The Azadistani Commonwealth was under-resourced - frankly, they were under-competent. Why had they started a war they could not win? Had they grown arrogant under Ausitoria's protection? Now they left him with no option but to sort out their country in the Liberal and Imperial interest and tradition of the Aestorian Commonwealth. Whether they liked it or not. Frankly, this might be more of the Imperial interest if the Azadistani Commonwealth wasn't more careful...

.......zzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzz... ....zzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzz.....

He passed the Metropolitan Police Headquarters in his armoured car. He was going to visit the Palace. Time to fix this mess.

[Jackania yugo]

The ships of the Jackanian Navy tore through the sea like a knife through a thin foam cake. After quite a few hours and a pass through the "Gibraltar gap" as it was nicknamed, the fleet had arrived at the islands. However, none of the ships docked into any ports. They had to be vigilant in case of a attack by Azadistans fleet and/or it's allies...if it had any.

On the aircraft carrier, the flagships of the fleet, the JNC leviathan, a lone helicopter departed from the landing pad. It hovered through the air towards the manor house in the countryside, descending like a lift once it reached its destination. After the door slid open a large, pale man stepped out. Not large in the horizontal sense, but a vertical one. He was wearing mild blue jeans, a navy blue blazer over a plain white shirt and a silver tie. He had pale blue eyes (although you couldn't tell this by just looking at him as he had heavily shaded sunglasses), dark brown untidy hair, a thin face and black laced sneakers with bright blue parts near the bottom, along with that being the tint of the laces.

This was Jack Smith, with his usual "interesting" sense of fashion.

He quickly walked up to the house, going up the grey cobble steps. When he got to the back door he thrust the doors open before putting a stupid but euphoric grin on his face before shouting in a joyful manner...

"WHAT'S UP MOTHERFUCKERS? IT'S YOUR MAN JACK!"

-Azadistani navy and airforce bomb the ships-
Queen Aisha: get these fools!

What the hell, we're all the way in the canary islands. That's not fair, that's godmodding. You didn't say you were coming towards the islands.

[Azadistan-land of the free]

-Azadistani navy and airforce bomb the ships-
Queen Aisha: get these fools!

What the hell, we're all the way in the canary islands. That's not fair, that's godmodding. You didn't say you were coming towards the islands.

Ok my mistake.

[Libraria and Ausitoria]

The International Arbitration Court
Panessos City
Free State of Ailanor
Panessos

By Order

---

Summons to Court - Sultan Ahmed of the Azadistani Commonwealth

The International Arbitration Court hereby summons parties for the prosecution and defence of His Majesty Sultan Ahmed of the Azadistani Commonwealth to attend at The International Arbitration Court, Panessos.

***

20,000 feet high
Somewhere conveniently central over the Azadistani Commonwealth

The Walrus, or, more properly, His Grace Alexander Jenkins, Air Strategos of the Aestorian Commonwealth, was smiling.

This was unusual. Let me say just how unusual. Imagine that you look like a Walrus, and one day one of your very distant subordinates, a man you happen to outrank by about four stars, a man called the "Viscount Vickers," who styles himself as "VV" so that you can't use "W", gets ladies to swoon over him, men to admire him, exudes charisma, and suddenly goes and steals all your nice fancy spacecraft, half of your budget, and everything that has ever made you look remotely important; and then, just to really rub it in, goes and gets promoted to your equal, except that his political connections are far better than you, so he's always on top, and you're expected to work with him. And then, to be even more annoying, he goes and wins a war with an absurd space-based strike which seems to contravene all the laws of physics.

You're going to be a bit bitter, aren't you?

Thus it had happened to the Walrus. That damned Space Strategos Viscount Vickers had been put in charge of the Commonwealth Space Forces, yanking the airships out from under the Air Strategos' feet. It had taken a number of years before the Walrus had finally got his own back when he had won a war of his own with an absurd air-based strike which had at least managed to temporarily contravene all the laws of sovereignty.

But over friendly territory, life was easier, and he was sitting very happily in an AWACS aircraft squadron with absurd radar ranges in the hundreds of kilometers, commanding an Air Theatre from the central hub, spokes going to the AWACS of Air Flotillas, which served as central hubs to organize the strategic tankers which went down the spokes from them to the hubs of the AWACS and maritime patrols of the Air Groups, which were in turn organizing the tactical tankers which went down spokes from there to the various wings of fighters that were throwing up combat air patrols at simply absurd distances all across the maritime exclusion zone. Nobody could get in, except perhaps submarines, if they could avoid being detected by the maritime air patrols.

In short, his aircraft blanketed the skies, a shield to protect the Azadistani from any hasty invasion except the invasion of the Ausitorian civil service. It was a shield to provide enough cover, enough time, for justice to operate, for the Sultan to be hauled before a court, and for a peace treaty to be mediated. It was a shield quite like a grey dome in the sky, which reminded him of Walruses, which made him smile. It was, in fact, a shield like a Walrus for the Walrus.

E.g.

[OOC: I sometimes worry that I'm in somebody else's RP and they're playing bingo to make me write as much nonsense as possible. Because what else am I doing talking about Walruses? How did my life get to this point?]

[Azadistan-land of the free]

The International Arbitration Court
Panessos City
Free State of Ailanor
Panessos

(Image)

(Image)
By Order

---

Summons to Court - Sultan Ahmed of the Azadistani Commonwealth

The International Arbitration Court hereby summons parties for the prosecution and defence of His Majesty Sultan Ahmed of the Azadistani Commonwealth to attend at The International Arbitration Court, Panessos.

***

20,000 feet high
Somewhere conveniently central over the Azadistani Commonwealth

The Walrus, or, more properly, His Grace Alexander Jenkins, Air Strategos of the Aestorian Commonwealth, was smiling.

This was unusual. Let me say just how unusual. Imagine that you look like a Walrus, and one day one of your very distant subordinates, a man you happen to outrank by about four stars, a man called the "Viscount Vickers," who styles himself as "VV" so that you can't use "W", gets ladies to swoon over him, men to admire him, exudes charisma, and suddenly goes and steals all your nice fancy spacecraft, half of your budget, and everything that has ever made you look remotely important; and then, just to really rub it in, goes and gets promoted to your equal, except that his political connections are far better than you, so he's always on top, and you're expected to work with him. And then, to be even more annoying, he goes and wins a war with an absurd space-based strike which seems to contravene all the laws of physics.

You're going to be a bit bitter, aren't you?

Thus it had happened to the Walrus. That damned Space Strategos Viscount Vickers had been put in charge of the Commonwealth Space Forces, yanking the airships out from under the Air Strategos' feet. It had taken a number of years before the Walrus had finally got his own back when he had won a war of his own with an absurd air-based strike which had at least managed to temporarily contravene all the laws of sovereignty.

But over friendly territory, life was easier, and he was sitting very happily in an AWACS aircraft squadron with absurd radar ranges in the hundreds of kilometers, commanding an Air Theatre from the central hub, spokes going to the AWACS of Air Flotillas, which served as central hubs to organize the strategic tankers which went down the spokes from them to the hubs of the AWACS and maritime patrols of the Air Groups, which were in turn organizing the tactical tankers which went down spokes from there to the various wings of fighters that were throwing up combat air patrols at simply absurd distances all across the maritime exclusion zone. Nobody could get in, except perhaps submarines, if they could avoid being detected by the maritime air patrols.

In short, his aircraft blanketed the skies, a shield to protect the Azadistani from any hasty invasion except the invasion of the Ausitorian civil service. It was a shield to provide enough cover, enough time, for justice to operate, for the Sultan to be hauled before a court, and for a peace treaty to be mediated. It was a shield quite like a grey dome in the sky, which reminded him of Walruses, which made him smile. It was, in fact, a shield like a Walrus for the Walrus.

E.g.

(Image)

[OOC: I sometimes worry that I'm in somebody else's RP and they're playing bingo to make me write as much nonsense as possible. Because what else am I doing talking about Walruses? How did my life get to this point?]

What am I accused of?-Sultan Ahmed.

[Aresin]

But over friendly territory, life was easier, and he was sitting very happily in an AWACS aircraft squadron with absurd radar ranges in the hundreds of kilometers, commanding an Air Theatre from the central hub, spokes going to the AWACS of Air Flotillas, which served as central hubs to organize the strategic tankers which went down the spokes from them to the hubs of the AWACS and maritime patrols of the Air Groups, which were in turn organizing the tactical tankers which went down spokes from there to the various wings of fighters that were throwing up combat air patrols at simply absurd distances all across the maritime exclusion zone. Nobody could get in, except perhaps submarines, if they could avoid being detected by the maritime air patrols.

In short, his aircraft blanketed the skies, a shield to protect the Azadistani from any hasty invasion except the invasion of the Ausitorian civil service. It was a shield to provide enough cover, enough time, for justice to operate, for the Sultan to be hauled before a court, and for a peace treaty to be mediated. It was a shield quite like a grey dome in the sky, which reminded him of Walruses, which made him smile. It was, in fact, a shield like a Walrus for the Walrus.

It had only been 30 minutes. 30 minutes since an F-22 squadron had been refueled and sent back into Azadistan. And in that short amount of time, the advantage in the air had already been lost. "Ion Squadron", with 25 of the latest Aresinian made F-22's were flying in, when they spotted it. A mass, almost like a swarm of locusts, consisting of God knows how many aircraft.

"Ion 1 to base, we have confirmation of what appears to be military aircraft in the vicinity, acknowledge?"

"Roger that Ion 1, only engage if engaged first, over."

Not wanting to be caught off guard, and certainly not wanting to start a fight, Ion 1 sends a message to Libraria and Ausitoria's pilots.

"Ion 1 to unidentified aircafts, request that you state your intentions in this area, acknowledge?"

[Libraria and Ausitoria]

"Walrus to Ion 1. Tally ho! I'm afraid to say you're now entering a restricted zone. We are International Criminal Police Federation Peacekeeping Forces of the Aestorian Commonwealth, operating at the invitation of the Azadistani Commonwealth. Our mission is to provide a shield while the diplomats get to work..."

At this point a touch of humanity entered in to the radio operator, who could see the funny side to the standoff.

"So yeah, sorry to be a pain. All I can do is recommend you return home and put your feet up and put the kettle on. Maybe have a slice of cake on us?"

What am I accused of?-Sultan Ahmed.

By Order

---

Re: Summons to Court - Sultan Ahmed of the Azadistani Commonwealth (1)

Your Majesty, Sultan Ahmed,

You're accused of whatever anybody else has said? I'm not sure yet, I'm still collating the accusations, and we're still waiting on the Angel's Alliance to send in their representatives for the prosecution, so it'll take a little while before we're ready to begin. But don't worry, you'll get a fair trial. Well, ok, you should probably worry if you've done something wrong. But you'll have the benefit of a defence counsel anyway. We do things by the book. And there's no escaping our justice, so you might as well play by the book!

Best wishes (if you're innocent anyway),
Sir Arthur Digburt, TIAC Administrator

[Aresin]

"Walrus to Ion 1. Tally ho! I'm afraid to say you're now entering a restricted zone. We are International Criminal Police Federation Peacekeeping Forces of the Aestorian Commonwealth, operating at the invitation of the Azadistani Commonwealth. Our mission is to provide a shield while the diplomats get to work..."

At this point a touch of humanity entered in to the radio operator, who could see the funny side to the standoff.

"So yeah, sorry to be a pain. All I can do is recommend you return home and put your feet up and put the kettle on. Maybe have a slice of cake on us?"

"Ion 1 to International Criminal Police Federation Peacekeeping Forces of the Aestorian Commonwealth, we are unable to turn back at this time. We are not hostile to you or to the Azadistani Commonwealth. However, we have a duty to protect our nation's borders. We will not interfere with your mission, so long as you do not interfere with ours, over."

The pilot was calm over the radio, but terrified in reality. He knew that a dog fight would result in Aresin getting dragged into an unwanted war. He just had to hope that his new hosts would be kind enough to allow his mission to continue.

[Libraria and Ausitoria]

"Walrus to Ion 1, please hold for a minute under flag of truce."

There was a fairly brief pause while he verified that the craft were indeed from Aresin, a nation whose desire to protect its own borders might lead to it getting into all sorts of trouble. But the craft certainly matched the ones that had earlier flown in, which meant they were probably from Aresin.

"Thank you for holding. Your application to enter the zone has been approved. Please note your nation will be at war with the Commonwealth if your forces in Azadistan start one. Also, please note our forces will be sending some complementary cake to yours, inviting you round for tea, and so on and so forth. Now I come to think of it, do the people of Aresin like pizza?"

You could have been forgiven for starting to wonder whether the Aestorians were more interested in running a catering service or a country.

[Aresin]

"Walrus to Ion 1, please hold for a minute under flag of truce."

There was a fairly brief pause while he verified that the craft were indeed from Aresin, a nation whose desire to protect its own borders might lead to it getting into all sorts of trouble. But the craft certainly matched the ones that had earlier flown in, which meant they were probably from Aresin.

"Thank you for holding. Your application to enter the zone has been approved. Please note your nation will be at war with the Commonwealth if your forces in Azadistan start one. Also, please note our forces will be sending some complementary cake to yours, inviting you round for tea, and so on and so forth. Now I come to think of it, do the people of Aresin like pizza?"

You could have been forgiven for starting to wonder whether the Aestorians were more interested in running a catering service or a country.

The pilot lets out a sigh of a relief.

"Copy that, Walrus! I'll tell those boys on the ground to prepare some Aresinian coffee and tea for you guys, in exchange for the cake and pizza! Let's hope that this situation doesn't get any uglier, and we can all sit back and relax while those diplomats fight it out. Cheers, Ion 1 out."

Meanwhile, news of this sudden detente reaches the Aresinian White House. With it becoming clear that the fighting is quickly dying down, the reservists are deactivated, and the 10,000 regulars at the border are reduced to 3,000.