The Occupation.(MT CLOSED)

[United World Order]

The sounds of boots of marching men in the streets of Palma was what is heard everyday. A company of Military Police wielding G36 assault rifles and wearing green camo clothing with there combat helmets on marched down the street as civilians looked on or continued living there miserable like lives now that UWO was in charge. The city and some of the other cities were still slightly damaged from the fighting that went on two months prior to this. The regiments of MPs that came along with the invasion force were now in charge of keeping order while the Tylisian Law Enforcement were getting a complete overhall of policies and all. Former Tylisian Police cheifs were being routinly murdered so that the UWO can assert they're own Law Enforcement to take over. Along with that the Gestapo had moved agents in and had a temporary HQ somewhere in Tylisia.

The Gestapo so far had rounded up political enemies within Tylisia who were former officals for the Tylisia government. There was still work to be done with Tylisia and the Military which had been the invasion force were mostly in the surrounding plains and jungles in bases and outposts that were established through out the invasion. Tylisian law and freedoms were being changed from there deomcratic like to the UWO's likings which meant lesser freedoms for it's people.

Currently in the streets of Palma a MP was standing near a apartment building smoking a ciggerate. He wore regular MP uniform and had a equipment belt with his nightstick, Pepper spray, Cuffs and his USP pistol that was issued to him. He and along with two MPs stood there chatting amongst themselves with a MP humvee parked off to the side. Who knows how this day would turn out.

[Arkotania]

Marcus Lefitius heard troops marching down the streets, hearing the telltale stomping of the boots of the troops. It had been like this ever since the land had been occupied by the United World Order(UWO). He looked out from his shop window and saw a bunch of armed troops march by, their assault rifles in hand. The men had been fighting around here quite some time and were now showing their presence. The marching around was an example but so was the executions of police chiefs and the decrease in the freedoms people had.

Marcus hammered away at the piece of hot metal, glowing red. Sparks flew after each thumping hit. Every drop of sweat would sizzle and quickly evaporate from the surface of the anvil. Marcus had arrived to Tylisia to open a metal shop where he'd repair and build all sorts of metal objects. He also had experience in all sorts of welding, which made his business a popular place in town for anyone who had needed something repaired. He made a moderate sum of money from his shop but after the occupation, less people started visiting his store.

He stopped hammering and stuck the metal into a bucket of ice cold water. A massive cloud of thick steam gushed out from the bucket. He looked away and waited till the steam thinned out into a light mist. He pulled out the metal and looked at it. He finally finished the project he had been working on, a nice Fairbairn. No one on this land knew that Marcus Lefitius was not just a simple metalworker but a special forces agent for his homeland, Arkotania. His mission was, in general, to assist the U.W.O in any way.

He smiled as he stuck the knife into a sheath on a belt, the 8th one on the belt. Two sheaths remained empty on the belt and Marcus continued his work, ready to quickly manufacture the last two daggers.

[The Anean Tribes]

Stárshiy Leytenánt (Senior Lieutenant) Yuri Bojovnik looked at the fallen city around him. Rubble filled much of it. Craters from artillery pockmarked the streets and sidewalks. The UWO troops walking through the streets unsettled him. They still looked quite volatile, looking for any excuse to cause trouble. I guess this war wasn't challenging enough for them. He thought to himself. The day before he'd been accosted by to Gestapo Officers for no other reason then that he looked "too proud". After viewing his diplomatic papers from both His government and the UWO government they left him alone, but the had seen sad that he hadn't given them more trouble. Since then he made sure the his gun holster and the sheath on his short sword (Anean Soldiers carry short swords as apart of their uniform and are capable of use in battle) unlatched for easy access. He wore the standard formal uniform the Anean State Security Force (ASSF). The black and red uniform set him apart from his UWO counterparts and caused many people UWO and Tylisian natives alike to stare. He continued to walk to the UWO GHQ to meet with one of their commanders, about seeing one of their military mop up operations in the interior of the island. Some guerrillas were still in hiding there and were causing some problems for the occupiers. That was his mission here, to observe and evaluate the UWO army in action. His government had little to no info on the way they preformed and the effectiveness of their tactics. Obviously his government found this unsettling. And with the UWO's imperialist streak and his nation's History of being constantly invaded, they had to be prepared. He walked through a park in the direction of the GHQ trying his hardest to ignore the slight pain in his leg. A battle wound from his last assignment in the field that left him in a desk. This was as close to the field as he would ever get. He was not looking forward to meeting this officer, from what he had heard his was a bit of a sadist. He was within site of the GHQ which was located in a former hotel. As he walked in through the entrance, the soldiers guarding it saluted him. Here goes nothing.[i][/i]

[Vorshka]

Kolya,the Vorshkan ambassador at Tylisia looked outside.This barbarians wouldn't dare to enter the Vorshkan Embassy.He could see many civilians who were wounded and that were drugged away bu UWO troops.He decided to help as many Tylisians and foreigners as possible.He came out and went to an officer.The officer seemed to be one of this "special troopers" which patrolled all over the city.He asked him "Why are you taking this civilians?If they cause any trouble here I'm willling to take them to Vorshka."

[Gibet]

Heinz Schmidt stood on the corner of two streets--just down and across from him, there was a military checkpoint guarded over by a number of the UWO MPs. He was dressed in a light-grey trench-coat, with a black fedora sitting upon his own greying hair. His slim figure blended in neatly with nearly any other every-day person. His icey, pale-blue eyes were darting rapidly from side to side. He was not nervous, but his contact was already late. The twenty-seven year-old watchmaker's apprentice sighed softly. He lit a cigarette and breathed the smoke in deeply--seemingly relaxing him.

For the past two months, the nation which had adopted him--after being basically exiled from his fatherland--had come under a fierce occupation by the forces of the United World Order--a far-flung, Fascist empire. They had cracked-down hard on the local-populace. Everyday, people disappeared--men, women......children even. He was no fool...The UWO, like his own fatherland, had it's Gestapo agents. They weren't always easy to spot, but you knew one when they were talking to you. He had recently avoided suspicious behavior--a supplier for the resistance could not afford to be careless. He tenseed suddennly--a sharp pain shooting-up his right-side.

It soon subsided, but it was no mystery as to what it was. A bullet-wound. He had gotten it during a surprise Gestapo and UWO MP raid on a resistance cell's base of operations. It had been nearly two weeks ago. They had returned from another supplier with more weapons and supplies--UWO MP uniforms. The men at the dock had been waiting nervously for over an hour, and were in a hurry to unload the supplies into the underground sewers that they had called home for a while. That's when it happened. A blinding light suddennly tore through the black stillness of the night--spotlighting the small water-craft and the men on the dock.

Machinegun fire soon ripped apart the four others who had been in the boat--igniting a box of explosives. The ensuing explosion had tore-apart the boat and much of the small warf. Schmidt had barely had enough time to dart for an alley before more fire tore apart his comrades on the dock. In the long-run from the docks to a near-by safe house, he had been shot by a lone sentry for violating the curfew--he had missed his mark, striking Heinz in the side. For his failing-accuracy, the sentry recieved a bullet to the frontal-lobe.

His mind came back tot the mission at hand. His observations of the check-point finished, he tossed the cigarette down and stamped it out with the toe of a well-polished boot. He crossed the street and entered a car which had pulled-up. Inside, his contact was waiting for him. They discussed a few of the details in his native tongue--German--and rode away from the scene.

[Arkotania]

The OP has left, as he claims to have done so in a thread. I'm not sure what we should do now since the main point of this RP was to affect the occupation of the country. Our occupier is gone.
OOC:Nvm

[United World Order]

Kolya,the Vorshkan ambassador at Tylisia looked outside.This barbarians wouldn't dare to enter the Vorshkan Embassy.He could see many civilians who were wounded and that were drugged away bu UWO troops.He decided to help as many Tylisians and foreigners as possible.He came out and went to an officer.The officer seemed to be one of this "special troopers" which patrolled all over the city.He asked him "Why are you taking this civilians?If they cause any trouble here I'm willling to take them to Vorshka."

The MP officer looked at him drawing his nightstick and raising it. "Sir you need to step back," The officer said as two others had one of the civilians in hand as they put him agaisnt the hummer and handcuffed him then placed him inside the hummer and shut the door.

"This is none of your buisness, foreigner, go back to your embassy" A officer said as he put a hand on his holstered USP pistol.

[Gibet]

"So, what did it look like?" The man in the driver's seat was addressing Heinz. He was dressed in an average jacket--a dress-shirt was beneath this, it's collar buttons undone. He was tanned slightly, a black, pencil mustache decorated his upper-lip. His eyes were a glossy brown.

Schmidt scoffed softly, looking out the window as they passed a number of MPs guarding some fo the citizens that had been rounded up.
"It looked the same as it did yesterday. There's a hummer parked near-by, armed with a mounted gun. And from what I could see, there's atleast four MPs--maybe more." The man driving deeply sighed and shook his head.

"Schmidt, do you think we should reconsider the strike?.....I mean, we could surely find another way of getting the message out...right?" The driver asked questioningly.

"No. No, Schneider, I do not. We cannot go on simply secretly distributing a few meaningless leaflets at night. We must back-up our statements---PROVE to the people that their occupiers are not invincible." Heinz responded, slamming his fist into the palm of his other hand. He coughed slightly.

"Why-not hit a depot?" Schnieder asked thoughtfully. "We could one of the smaller ones that are less-guarded. The blast would certainly draw attention."
Heinz laughed. "Schnieder, the idea's brilliant.....But where would we find the explosives to do it?"

"Leave that to our compatriots in the east of the city....." The car turned sharply onto another street--passing-by the Vorshkan Embassy. The large building was evidently being left alone. However, outside, in the street, the MPs were still rounding up civilians. Heinz shook his head. They had to do soemthing soon, before the people accepted that they were defeated....Believed it....

[United World Order]

A road checkpoint was uphead where the car the Gibetian was driving. They're were MP officers dressed as usual as they saw the car approach the check point as the car stopped infront of the checkpoint and a MP officer approached the window and looked at them then spoke. "Idenification and proof of residence here in Tylisia" The MP officer said as a second MP officer wielding a MP7 was standing near a Hummer as another was smoking a ciggerate and conversing with him.

Eastern Side of The City...

A single man walked the sidewalk passing numerous civilians. He wore a black trenchcoat and had his pistol holster concealed by his coat as he continued to walk passing numerous shops and then found a door which was faded red as he opened it and went inside down some stairs passing the walls of posters of different kinds as he got down and saw a man sitting on a couch who immeditaly stood up and nodded. The Gestapo agent nodded to him as he went through another door leading to a underground stairway which led to a single room with no windows and made of concreate. A man was tied to chair with a blindfold on and was sweating horribly as the Agent took off his trench coat and hung it then approaching the man.

"Are you ready to talk?" The agent asked as the man nodded his head. The agent removed the blind fold which revealed his eyes had been yanked out of it's sockets. Dried blood was under his eyes where they formaly were as The agent chuckled. "Now tell me...where are the producers of these explosives we've been finding lately?" The agent asked as the man gulped and then spoke.

"Here...in a abandoned warehouse...gaurded by street thugs.." The man said as the Gestapo agent nodded, "The one three blocks away?" The agent asked as the man nodded his head. "Thank you" The agent said as he unholstered his pistol and shot his head twice and then took his coat and left along with the Gestapo Agents who had stayed with the prisoner.

[Gibet]

As the car slowed to a stop at one of the many occupational check-points, Heinz tensed once again--the sharp pain returning to his side. Indeed, despite the bullet having been removed, it was still causing quite a great deal of trouble. He eased slightly enough to hand his identification paper to Schneider. The driver then proceeded to hand both his and Heinz's papers to the MP--while trying to maintain a friendly-enough smile. There was no need to get into a spot of trouble here.

Heniz locked eyes with Schneider in the rear-view mirror--his gaze telling Schneider not to worry, but not to screw up, either. They both knew all too well the consequences of offending their "occupiers". They had both seen the horrifying, public firing-squad executions just after the occupation had begun--remembered the early-round-ups of civilians and former-military personell. The streets were still stained with the blood of the innocents--their countrymen. Even after the cleaning-up, those who had seen it happen would never cease seeing the blood stains on the brick walls and street-pavement.

[United World Order]

The MP looked over Heinz's papers and nodded passing them back to Heinz then looking over the drivers. He smirked and called over another MP who nodded to him and took the papers and looked over them shaking his head as the MP looked at the driver and unbuckled his night stick and put his hand on the door and opened it. "Sir im going to ask you to step out of the vehicle, now" The MP said as the other MPs took hold of there weapons and were getting them cocked and ready. The other MP tore up the driver's papers and tossed them away. A different MP looked at Heinz, "Sir you may drive the car and go on your way now" The MP said

The MPs did this at times to show brutality and for the pure joy of it. These MPs would regulary pull random people out of there cars and execute them or beat them. There was no mercy for the Tylisians or the foriegner

[Gibet]

A bolt of fear shot through Heinz as the MP opened the driver-side door. They were taking Schneider--God only knew why. Schnieder was protesting soemthing furiously, and Heinz was slightly shocked when the MP informed him that he would be allowed to continue through. He adjusted himself and calmly obeyed the MP's orders. He had to exit the vehicle in-order to get around to the driver's seat. He only locked eyes--briefly--with Schneider who was clearly fearfull now. He was deeply saddened.

He knew Schneider would never want to be taken alive by these.....these....dogs. Yes, that was the word....dog. As he entered the driver's seat, Schmidt glanced back at Schneider and looked up at the MP.

"What will become of him?" He asked, frighteningly certain of the answer. They would undoubtedly execute him--make up soem lie that they could use in what-ever filing system they used. Probably make it out that he attempted, unsuccessfully, to break and run. Or, perhaps, he slugged one of them and tried to grab for a weapon. Regardless, both of them knew he had little options now. The look from Schneider told him what he must do--continue with mission. They could not afford a small set-back to interfere with the larger-picture.

[United World Order]

The MP looked at him. "Would you like to find out?, I suggest you drive off" He said as two MPs grabbed Schneider and took him to a parked Humvee and placed him up agaisnt it as they placed hand cuffs on him and escorted him into the grass off the road and made him stand there as they blindfolded him. The MPs gathered with there weapons and raised them aiming at Schneider and fired. Dropping his body in a hail of gunfire as the bullets ripped his body and he crumbeled into the grass. A few of the MPS laughed and joked others remained silent as they went back to there duty

[Gibet]

Animals, Schmidt thought to himself as he drove-away--the sharp rattle of machinegun fire echoing behind him. For Schneider, atleast, the occupation was over. His brother in arms was free from the tragedy ahead. For Schmidt, it was only beginning. Now, he was fed not only by the desire for freedom and justice to be done, but also the thirst for revenge. First, however, he would need to gather some of the resistance. They needed to organize themselves and cooperate, if they were to liberate their countrymen.

The car whelled around the corner and sped off.

[Vorshka]

Kolya,the Vorshkan ambassador at Tylisia looked outside.This barbarians wouldn't dare to enter the Vorshkan Embassy.He could see many civilians who were wounded and that were drugged away bu UWO troops.He decided to help as many Tylisians and foreigners as possible.He came out and went to an officer.The officer seemed to be one of this "special troopers" which patrolled all over the city.He asked him "Why are you taking this civilians?If they cause any trouble here I'm willling to take them to Vorshka."

The MP officer looked at him drawing his nightstick and raising it. "Sir you need to step back," The officer said as two others had one of the civilians in hand as they put him agaisnt the hummer and handcuffed him then placed him inside the hummer and shut the door.

"This is none of your buisness, foreigner, go back to your embassy" A officer said as he put a hand on his holstered USP pistol.

Kolya looked at the MP officer with hatred.These asshole had no compassion.But he needed to be patient and change the subject."So,what's the current situation?I'm aware that your invasion has caused various issues.So,until when will the embassies remain here?"

[United World Order]

The MP officer looked at him drawing his nightstick and raising it. "Sir you need to step back," The officer said as two others had one of the civilians in hand as they put him agaisnt the hummer and handcuffed him then placed him inside the hummer and shut the door.

"This is none of your buisness, foreigner, go back to your embassy" A officer said as he put a hand on his holstered USP pistol.

Kolya looked at the MP officer with hatred.These asshole had no compassion.But he needed to be patient and change the subject."So,what's the current situation?I'm aware that your invasion has caused various issues.So,until when will the embassies remain here?"

"The embassies may remain here if they wish" The MP Officer said as he holstered his night stick

[Sunya]

Diyep Sinj clacked away on a manual typewriter of Sunyan manufacture in the drab apartment he was renting prior to the occupation. He was in the habit of typing his stories and faxing them, though to whom he would fax this fevered record of the invasion was anybody's guess. The UWO was clearly the dominant force here and Diyep reckoned that he didn't really have much choice as to what they would allow him to send out. Still, he wrote, being careful not to smudge the carbon copy as the single, bare light bulb above flickered at the ponderous rolling of some UWO armored mechanical monstrosity rumbling down the street outside his blown-out, third story window. He had made a point of carefully recording everything, but admitting knowledge of nothing. The UWO troops, imperious, steel-clad adolescents, came busting through the complex just a few days prior. They ransacked the apartment, but took nothing of value. Diyep considered this one of the advantages of owning nothing of value. They examined his ornate Sunyan passport, and left. They seemed to have absolutely no interest in him. Fascist indifference: sometimes, it's a good thing.

They probably realize I'm beyond screwed. Nowhere to go, now., Diyep thought sorely to himself. He stared at the mass of metal arms that had become entangled in the typewriter while, in his fugue, he had accidentally mashed down several keys simultaneously. How long has it been since he slept? No matter. He decided it was time to step down into the courtyard for a smoke. He gathered his papers, stuffing them behind a loose baseboard before slapping the board back in place. Can't be too careful, he just wish he had something really worth stashing. Like a gun. Or a bunch of hard coin. Or some bourbon.

Diyep didn't smoke; at least he hadn't for several years. Funny how things change. He plodded listlessly down the stairs of the complex, ignoring the plaintiff wails of a hungry baby in some apartment or another in the complex while a chilly breeze swept through the stairwell through the man-sized hole left by...by what? An errant UWO HE round. Maybe a resistance RPG. Who knows; all concrete blows up the same, anyhow.

As he rounded the corner from out of the stairwell into courtyard strewn with rubble and brass casings, he reached into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a pouch of rolling tobacco and papers. The art of rolling a cigarette was 10% addiction, 10% desire, and 80% finesse. He did it like a pro, well-practiced from years smoking fine Sunyan tobaccos in his university days. This Tylisian stuff was pretty solid; shame this might be the last packet of it available for a long, long time. He carefully wet the glue, deftly rolled the little cylinder, and struck a match from a paper book he picked up at a pub a few blocks away, a cozy neighborhood joint with an impressive draught selection that was now a smoldering crater with an impressive draught selection.

He took a long, slow drag from the cigarette. Held the smoke. Then exhaled in a long, slow, savory exhalation. Good God. Why the Hell am I here?, he though as he ashed his cigarette in a pile of brass casings and dust. At that moment, he happened to look over to his left, where stood a handful of UWO troops, cigarettes in hands, looking at him looking at them. He took another drag of his cigarette, all the while staring at them.

They said nothing.

He said nothing.

Still they stared.

He exhaled, long and forceful.

Shit.

"Hiya, guys!", he said jovially to the faceless, uniformed masks. "Nice day for it. I'm a journalist," he flashed the 'PRESS' badge issued him by the now-defunct Tylisian government, along with his Sunyan passport. "...of the Sunyan Free Press Syndicate, Diyep Sinj, at your service. Begging your pardons, but I don't suppose I could trouble you boys for a lift to your commanding officer? Hell of a story here; my readers would love to hear your side of it, at your C.O.'s pleasure, naturally." He did his best to hide his nervousness; he was quavering, but he managed to keep his voice calmly steady as he awaited the steely-eyed response from the UWO jack-boots.

Best to get in good graces now, so they don't ice your ass later, Diyep., he thought. Of course, who's to say they'll wait?

[Gibet]

The small BMW took another sharp curve as it wheeled into the courtyard of an apartment complex--the current residence of Heinz Schmidt. The large, dull, grey building had been his "home" ever-since his exile from his fatherland, Gibet. Alas, He thought, twas' all just another day at the races. Back the losing horse...and this is where you end up. Indeed, his mind rolled-over, again, the events only just prior. The un-just arrest of really his only friend here; that same man's summary-execution without trial, or even chagres for that matter. He sighed heavily.

"Christ, I need a smoke..." He muttered, as he rolled the car to a stop in one of the few parking-spaces not littered with rubble and debree. He sat there a moment--silent as.....as the grave, his forehead laying softly against the steering-wheel. His mind reeled with all the pain and torment of his life. In truth, Schneider--his first name was Karl--had not been his only friend. No, there was yet another--who had been killed in the battle for the city. Her face, so flawless......so perfect. Her long, wavey chessnut-brown hair, those beautiful, sparkling green eyes. Her name was Anne.

Truthfully, they had been engaged some months prior to the UWO attack on the city--they had been hoping against all else that the UWO might be stopped, a hope impossibly unreachable. There had been a bombing raid that day....oh so long ago. One of the HE bombs had gone off-target--hitting a raid-shelter, instead of a military depot. Anne, like one-hundred and fifty others that day, died before she even the time to see the bomb coming. That was how he ahd ended-up here--fighting a losing war. The resistance was poorly equiped, and the same could be said for much of their training. The tactics were nearly always useless--mass attacks and the like. Casualties would go on unceasingly at times.

Heinz came back to the reality, the real-world......the world of now. He stepped out of the car as a light drizzle began to fall--the perfect weather for such a day. Undoubtedly, the rain would grow stronger as the day turned to night, for now, he just needed someone to talk to. He took a look around the courtyard--nothing, save for a UWO APC, a dozen or so of the jack-boots, and a lone man aparently trying to actually carry a conversation with the invaders. He coughed softly--the sickness he had been dealing with had weakened considerably, but he was still suffering.

[United World Order]

One of the MP officers looked at him lifting his gasmask off revealing his bald head as he sized him up and then looked at his fellow officers before looking back at him. "What readers?..Readers want to read about what happens here?.." The officer asked as another officer spoke up. "I don't they want to read about this place" He said as the officer infront of the journalist chuckled and looked at him. "What questions are you going to ask?, Be specific" The officer said as some of the other Officers moved over to the Stryker APC and rested agaisnt it taking there gasmasks off and watching the journalist seeing what his reply would be.

[The Anean Tribes]

Rain is good. Yuri thought to himself. It would keep the smoke and dust down for a while and make the air more breathable... At least for awhile. This was the worst assignment he'd ever had. After visiting that UWO officer wouldn't let him go out in the field. How was he supposed to be a military observer if he couldn't observe!? Well at least he was observing what NOT to do during an occupation. The stories he and the rest of the Anean Embassy's staff had been hearing as of late were none to comforting. Eyes being pulled out, random executions. This was disgusting. Walking down a cratered out road towards the embassy, he noticed the gunshots. They went off every few minutes... Every shot another execution.... Now he was disgusted at himself. The gunfire had become white noise to him.
"HALT!" a voice called from behind him. What the fuck now?? He looked behind him. Two Gestapo Officers stood behind him.
"Yes, sir?" He replied. The gave him a quizzical look. Shit, I spoke Anean to them, I forgot, not all of them know more then one language. "Ja, Genossen? Kann ich Ihnen helfen?" (Yes, Comrades? May I help you?") Both officers smiled.
"Ja, können wir bitte Ihren Ausweis sehen?" (Yes, may we please see your identification?) [From now on everything will be in English]
"Of course, comrades, is anything the matter?" Yuri asked, handing over his papers/
"Just a random check..." The more senior of the two officers asked. He looked over the papers.
"I'm a Military Attache with the Anean State Security Force an-"
"That's nice sir." The officer interrupted him. The lower of the two officers looked at him confused.
"What the Hell is a "State Security Force"?" He asked.
"Its the formal name of our military." Yuri asked, his anger slowly rising. The lower officer nodded in understanding. The senior officer looked up from the papers.
"Stárshiy Leytenánt Bojovnik. Will you please come with us?"
"Excuse me?"
"Its just for a few questions you'll be back at the Embassy by the end of the night."
"Do I have a choice?????" Yuri asked his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Simply put? No." The officer said bluntly.
"Can I know why I'm being detained?"
"No, but we've already alerted you embassy. You may talk to your ambassador when you get to GHQ. She's already there waiting for you."

[Sunya]

One of the MP officers looked at him lifting his gasmask off revealing his bald head as he sized him up and then looked at his fellow officers before looking back at him. "What readers?..Readers want to read about what happens here?.." The officer asked as another officer spoke up. "I don't they want to read about this place" He said as the officer infront of the journalist chuckled and looked at him. "What questions are you going to ask?, Be specific" The officer said as some of the other Officers moved over to the Stryker APC and rested agaisnt it taking there gasmasks off and watching the journalist seeing what his reply would be.

Diyep didn't imagine he would have to explain the particulars of the Sunyan media markets to these soldiers, but he's learned to become accustomed to the unusual in recent days. "Well, gentlemen, international affairs are big news in a politically sleepy, non-aligned country like Sunya; even a country full of isolationistas like to know what's going on elsewhere in the big, bad world. Not to mention the fact that my employers at the Syndicate would love to get first-hand information on the ground, if only to beat their international competitors to the punch. News is business, you know? Especially in an era of global news cycles. My original assignment was to do a travel and business piece on Tylisia", he took a another drag from his still smoldering cigarette; exhaled, "...when you guys showed up." Diyep was being careful to avoid psychologically loaded words like 'invasion' or 'occupation'. These men had the look of guys who just follow orders, but he also felt his life depended on maintaining a sense of journalistic impartiality.

"I don't expect a hard-hitting political expose or anything. I did my service in the SDF, our military, and I know that there needs to be a careful delineation between politics and military policy, to maintain order in the ranks. I don't intend to ask anything too personal or delve into UWO policy or anything. For now, my employers ought to be happy with just the official stuff: the UWO's claim to Tylisia, it's long-term intentions here, official military policy in dealing with resistance, and so forth. The party-line kind of stuff. I'm not looking to put you guys or your commanders in a journalistic trick-bag here, just take down a few official statements, which your commanders can review, and wire them back to one of the Syndicate foreign bureaus." His cigarette had smoldered down to a flat little nub, which he threw to the ground and ground out with the ball of his foot. "Having said that, I am going to ask, cajole, and beg for interviews from anybody who's willing and able to sit down with me over a cup of coffee and speak on record, so this is an opportunity for me to introduce myself and make my presence known to the UWO. But I wouldn't be much of a journalist if I didn't try to get at least one interview, now would I?"

Time to drive the point home. " The bottom line, gentlemen, is that this is an opportunity for members of the UWO to explain their position and to have their exact words published, unedited, in a globally recognized and internationally syndicated news source. It's a chance for your side of the story to be told." He rolled another cigarette as he spoke, being careful to steady his hands. The fact that these men were armed didn't disturb him. Guns didn't bother him, as they're fairly ubiquitous in Sunya's free-wheeling society, not to mention his military service.

Uncertainty, however, did scare him.

He lit his cigarette, drew on it while he gave time for his words to sink in. Exhaled.

"So, what do you say? Is there any chance of me meeting with one of your superiors, or would anyone of you be free to talk?"

[United World Order]

The MP officer nodded with a smile. "Heck, Why not" He said as he put his mask on again and cocked his G36 rifle and slinging it over his shoulder, "Come with me and i will take you to see one of our C.Os thats not too far from here" He said as he walked across the street to a Humvee which was dark blue and labeled "MP". He opened the driver door and slipped inside turning on the engine. The top of the humvee had a mounted gun which was the MG312 Heavy Machine gun and this was autocannon which was handled by electronics and needed no gunner. The officer waited for the journalist to get inside. The other MPs got up and continued there normal duties.

[Drekka]

(OOC: been busy, hope I didn't miss too much; could use Rp company because my characters
Are in a different city in Tylisia)


(BRB)
Lana, unlike most of the people in Calvia, was completely oblivious to
The Occupation of Tylisia. This has been her 3rd day in Calvia and she
is upset due to being under the protection of her over zealous Escort.
They currently are at a random beach resort, bored in their suite.

Lana sat in her bed, watching local TV. " *yawn, is there anything
actually funny? Where's Pvt.Pid , DDF?". Her escort walked out of the
bathroom, still dressed for war , and stated "I know we haven't had the best start
But I would like to start new". Surprised, Lana turned towards him and replied
"since when did you start talking, Robocop?" . This offended the escort so he
barked "Do you want a fresh start or what?" as he removed his Helmet
and ballistic mask. "By the way, name's Vance, Franz Vance" Franz added.