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The Conflict in Hutanjia [Closed]

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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Hutanjia
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Founded: Aug 28, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

The Conflict in Hutanjia [Closed]

Postby Hutanjia » Tue Aug 28, 2012 10:25 am

OOC Thread
PLEASE DO NOT POST WITHOUT PERMISSION. This is one of, if not the longest running IC thread in Int. Incidents. We have put a lot of work into this thread, please don't wreck it. All questions, outside input, etc. can be directed to the above listed OOC thread.


CHASTILLE, NEVORN BAY
NEVORN ISLAND, THE KINGDOM OF HUTANJIA


King Popilu I stood on a balcony overlooking the capital city of Chastille. Colonial architecture leftover from their period as a French, and then British subject was evident all across the skyline, stretching towards the water of the Wishton Sea that surrounded Nevorn Island. While Chastille was not directly on the coast of Nevorn Bay, it was at the mouth of a delta that fed into the Bay. Some of the port buildings in the distance sat on small delta islands, connected to mainland Chastille by concrete and steel bridges. They used to be wood once. Fishing vessels and cargo vessels streamed in and out, farther off in the Bay. Patrol boats of the Royal Hutanjian Navy kept constant guard. Closer in, Chastillians went about their morning on the streets, walking, cycling, conversing; unaffected by what transpired across the channel on Nesselburg Island and beyond.

Two rooms away, his wife played with their young children in the sun room of the palace. He could hear their happy chittering and laughter and the slight tocking sound of blocks on the floor. The juxtaposition was striking as he stood here, gathered with his advisers and military commander to discuss the mass death of other Hutanjian citizens, whole families even. Milton Atave was the Head of State Security, or KHS (The Kingdom of Hutanjian Security) Chief. His methods, instituted under the reign of Otumlo II, (Popilu's father), were sometimes deemed repressive and brutal, but they had kept the unrulier subjects under thumb. At least until lately, when the rebels, uniting under the banner of the UFF (United Freedom Front) had struck. Dr. Charles Nellis had brought together the UFF to undermine Popilu's rule. He was an interloper, not even a native born Hutanjian! Atave had been able to jail the dissenters at first, including Dr. Nellis, discreetly killing some of the street ringleaders in the process. International pressure had forced Popilu to make Atave let them go. They were 'peaceful democratic protesters', WA observers had said. They dismissed his evidence of Nellis' photographed atrocities as staged for propaganda purposes. The way Nellis had the world community and media wrapped around his finger would be laughable, if it hadn't been so damaging. Popilu wasn't a bad man in his mind, he loved his people. They were like naive children, though. Especially the Cardwithians, they needed a strong guiding hand, which the Dynasty, since independence, had managed to provide. He'd brought them, kicking and screaming, into the modern Westernized world. They were civilized, with unheard of conveniences just a generation ago. So why did they despise him?
Now, here they were. In a matter of months, Alistair Popilu or Popilu I, had lost half his kingdom to the UFF rebels. Most certainly they'd had help in money and arms and evidence pointed to the Falkasians being the main transgressors. Again, world community didn't care about rumored meddling of larger nations; the finger kept pointing at Popilu and Atave. Now they needed a miracle to turn it around.

General Monte Tonganu stood by the balcony table,
"As you know, Your Highness, the Cardwith Islands and most of Nesselburg Island has fallen to UFF forces. We still have the garrison in Vasselle, which we are supplying by helicopter and patrol boat. We can pound the UFF rebels when they come near the coast with our ships, but they tend to stay inland in the jungles. Any units we can land are ambushed when they head in towards the denser jungle. We can hold out here, they have no popular support on Nevorn."
(The dynasty, started by his great-grandfather Otumlo I, had been Nevornian) The Nevornians stood by their native born King always, but the rest of them remained stubbornly stupid. His malty colored skin started to turn paler as he gripped the railing overly tight in frustration. He kept his gaze outward though, taking in the salty Chastille air.
"We need help. Nellis has it and we don't."
Atave spoke up, "My contacts are working on it, sire. KHS agents are actively pursuing any proferred help.
Also, KHS agents are prowling Hesttens, where Dr. Nellis' main HQ is rumored to be. If they can bring down Nellis, the UFF will most certainly collapse in on itself. Now, maybe we could step inside. My counter-sniper teams are on the neighboring buildings, but still, this isn't entirely safe, your Highness."

Popilu scoffed, "Paaahh! I'm a dead man already!" He shouted at the sky, "Father why have you forsaken me?!? How has this come to pass?!" Weakened by the outburst and frustrated grief at all the loss, he allowed himself to be dragged inside by his concerned staff.
Last edited by Hutanjia on Wed Apr 10, 2013 2:45 pm, edited 5 times in total.

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Neu Engollon
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Neu Engollon » Tue Aug 28, 2012 12:19 pm

Last edited by Neu Engollon on Sat Mar 02, 2013 10:50 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Falkasia
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Father Knows Best State

Postby Falkasia » Tue Aug 28, 2012 5:44 pm

"The King is a fool," a heavily accented Russian voice muttered. "He thinks he's safe within his walls."

Dimitri Vornok panned left and right with his tinted binoculars, taking in a full view of the palace's front walls. The sniper teams deployed upon the roof were obvious at best.

"Girl scouts..." he stated bluntly. "But... this goes to show you the real state of the army here."

"The King lives in denial, doesn't he?" Another voice chimed in, equally as thick.

Dimitri removed the spyglasses from his eyes and glanced to his right, where a greatly less intimidating man stood peering through the half-closed venetian shades.

"Yes Vasili, he lives in denial. He cannot simply accept the new rules of the game, and thus refuses to acknowledge them. He is out of touch with his people, which is why he has to go."

Vasili continued looking forward, his eyes squinting as he attempted to filter the light with his lids.

"Is that how we managed to get so deep within his country?"

"As you will soon learn, not everything is solved with direct action. Many nations around the globe are unstable. I guarantee many of these you will probably find yourself in... someday. A Dinar in many cases is just as good as a bullet, only it doesn't leave a stain on the ground or on your conscience. When it seems the world is falling apart, people always place themselves first. This is no different for petty guards."

Vasili turned away rubbing his bloodshot eyes. He had been watching one of the sniper teams set up for over an hour.

"Even the best trained troops are subject persuasion, given the right circumstances and situations."

Dimitri turned his hard, rugged face away. He brought the binoculars back up to his eyes as returned his gaze towards the streets below.

He had seen worse places than this.
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New Korongo
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Founded: Aug 21, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby New Korongo » Wed Aug 29, 2012 12:39 am

Mount Hagen Provincial Council Building
“The government of the United Provinces has not yet acted out against your decision to confiscate all Mario related media but I am sure they will do so soon despite what the people of Mount Hagen believe. If you wish to oppose them you must have a strong Provincial Guard with which to threaten and foreign allies with which to rely upon for supports.” Provincial Commander Nicholas Lockwood said as he paced back and forth across the small office in front of the Governor’s oak desk.

“I could not agree with you more but what exactly are you proposing Nicholas?” Governor Austin Lange asked wondering what his long time friend had planned, he had always wanted for Mount Hagen to become independent but did not currently have the resources needed to fight the Imperial Korongolese Armed Force which would undoubtedly be deployed if he attempted to rebel.

“There is a developing situation, a civil war, in the nation of Hutanjia between monarchist and some form of democratic rebellion. King Popilu I has gained an international reputation as a dictator and tyrant, because of your plans and the somewhat unique belief of Mount Hagen citizens I believe that he could be a great ally in the future so long as he remains in power. Autstin, I am proposing that you authorize the deployment of the Provincial Guard to provide support.” Provincial Commander Lockwood said.

“You know I cannot do that, the government will see this as an act of rebellion and immediately send everything they have to wipe us out. As we both agree, the Provincial Guard is not yet strong enough to withstand anything like that.” Governor Lange sternly replied. Although the Imperial Korongolese Armed Forces was already involved in two conflicts abroad, their forces remaining at home would still be strong enough to wipe out a rebellion by the local government of Mount Hagen.

“What I am thinking is a smaller, less noticeable, force which can be smuggled in on merchant vessels without alerting either the government or foreign powers which choose to ally with the rebellious forces. Perhaps a company sized force, about eighty fighter pilots to fly whatever they have and some older Provincial Guard equipment is soon to be replaced.” Provincial Commander Lockwood said further explaining his plan to the governor of the Mount Hagen province.

“Alright then, if you believe this plan can succeed without alerting the government then you have authorization to deploy the Provincial Guard and initiate operations to assist the King of Hutanjia.” Governor Austin said after considering the plan for several seconds. Provincial Commander Lockwood simply nodded and walked out of the office, he had a lot of work to do.

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New Edom
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Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Wed Aug 29, 2012 8:19 am

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ON BEHALF OF HIS ROYAL MAJESTY DAVID THE THIRD, by the Grace of God of the Allied States of New Edom, the Protectorates of Gloria Regis, Etruria Majora and Raith Immel, Defender of Dengali

From PRINCE JAMES OBED
Regent of NEW EDOM


To His Royal Majesty King Popilu

WHEREAS by and with the advice and consent of Our Emergency Government in New Edom We have heard of the struggles your country is experiencing, similar to Ours, with rebels who wish to destroy tradition, honour and legacy

AND HAVE BEEN aware of Your Majesty's efforts in curtailing the rebels who have seized important parts of your country

IN TESTIMONY WHEREOF We have required Our Regent, Prince James Obed, to declare that should Your Majesty desire it We will offer our help, moneys, and protection. We are fully prepared to send an expeditionary force to your country to help in addition to funds to the number of 100 million NSD.

WE ASK that your government agree to an alliance for the duration of your conflict, with our forces and their commanders coordinating with your own in order to achieve victory over the rebel forces.

WRITTEN FROM Shiloam Palace, in the City of Padan-Aran, Bara Province, New Edom.
Last edited by New Edom on Wed Aug 29, 2012 8:20 am, edited 1 time in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Hutanjia
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Founded: Aug 28, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Hutanjia » Wed Aug 29, 2012 9:09 am

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To: PRINCE JAMES OBED, Regent of NEW EDOM
From: Horatio Vobatu, Ministry of Regency Affairs, Kingdom of Hutanjia

Your Highness,
I am writing on behalf of his exaltedness, King Popilu I, and also his Court and Staff, to let you know how exceedingly thankful we are towards King David III, a highly respected fellow royal, and his willingness to offer the services of your great empire. Unfortunately, at this time, the King is not able to communicate these wishes, having taken quite ill, being so overwhelmed at affairs and the disasters that have befallen our Kingdom. Your message of hope may turn his disposition around, we pray.
We are grateful to have such a strong guiding ally in this trying time and look forward to an eternal bond of our peoples. We accept all provisions of your offer and only wish we could give you more in return. Because of the loss of certain territory and mass expenditures on defense, we can only offer you future mineral and resource rights. Once these resources are back in our hands, of course. Any additional help or allies you may be able to garner for our cause would also be most appreciated.

Warmest regards to you and high praise to King David III,

Horatio Vobatu
Last edited by Hutanjia on Wed Aug 29, 2012 9:11 am, edited 1 time in total.

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New Edom
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Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Wed Aug 29, 2012 10:25 am

Operation Jungle Winter; Harbourtown, New Edom
Admiral Charles Rand, the Minister of Defense, had ordered as required by the Regent that an expeditionary force of two frigates and an amphibious ship be sent to Hutanjia. A fleet tender and another frigate would accompany them as far as the islands, resupply them there. Then a supply line would be maintained but would not take part in any action. In addition to this he was prepared to have C-10 Minotaurs fly in extra supplies or personnel as needed. He and General Adams spent some time drawing up an overall plan, choosing vessels, units and commanders. It was decided that the First Marine Infantry Regiment would do—they were battle hardened and well led. The 21st Lancers (Air Cavalry) would be sent as the combat aviation element, especially as the commander had two siblings on the other side of the civil war—a political nightmare. The Frigate Bardiche was an example to be set—politically divided, a possible danger of mutiny—half the world away they would be forced to be more cohesive, or at least any explosion would not hit them too much. It was a gamble, but the commander was a good solid man, it would give him more of a fighting chance to whip the crew into shape. Anyway it was a nothing little war. Finally, frigate Securis was an issue. Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain had demanded a sea command and finally got one. But he was a serious political risk as well. First of all, he was the consort of the Queen of Menassa, who had just become pregnant. Second, he had no command experience save a brief one aboard a Corvette before he was suddenly reposted to staff for…other political reasons. No one even knew if he’d be any good, yet in the desperate hours following the attempted coup d’etat he had been given the command in order to please the Menassans and the Royal Family. Now they were stuck with him. This expedition should be suitable.

As to senior commanders—it was clear that General Jonathan Unwerth, the hero of the Battle of the Silver River, should command. He was a good leader and his division, while mauled in the battle and in the retreat from Fineberg, had not been destroyed by his fault but by what was being called treachery. In fact, Rand and Adams were furious with him and wanted him gone. How dare he get defeated by Pahath-Moab?

The naval commander would be Commodore Count Titus Andronicus Celer, as a compliment to the Etrurians. He was a fairly solid man—no dramatics, no pretensions of genius or anything; he had served for a long time in the dangerous area of the Nordkrusen/Etrurian frontier area, and had done his share both of sea duty and staff duty enough to demonstrate that he was tough minded and capable of independent but loyal leadership. He and his staff would be aboard the amphibious ship. Meeting with the two senior officers went well—Unwerth relieved to get any command, Celer stolid, calm and alert. The division of command was clear—Celer in command at sea, Unwerth on the ground, Unwerth in general command of the mission however, as was clear by their difference in rank.

Following these decisions, many people began writing out orders and many forklifts, trucks and other vehicles began loading equipment, as Marine Infantry and other units began their progress towards Harbourtown and their departure…

Rendezvous with both the carrier group and the supply squadron was just one more difficult thing to Ensign Aaron Gore. He was a slim young man, the son of a Baran mother and an Anglo-German father, and had felt very pressured into joining the military. He had chosen the Navy, because ultimately he felt that it would be more interesting and it seemed to require greater intelligence. However he found himself struggling once in. He was more of a dreamer than a practical young man, and he instinctively wanted to rebel against what sometimes seemed like senseless orders or confusing ones. On top of that he found himself constantly required to do the most menial tasks--or rather lead them. In a way doing them would have been better. As part of the deck force, he had the duty of commanding the group of men and women who either had the least aptitude for technology or else were almost as new as he. The warrants he had under him--it was ridiculous. It was like giving orders to his dad--that stern but kind man who owned a plumbing fixture warehouse and distributing center and had gruffly expressed his pride at his graduation. The same kind of thing, only they had to call him "Sir" which embarrassed him. It wouldn't have embarrassed his mother or father--his mother took it for granted that there were those who served and those who commanded. To give orders to Orrin Hanno, the Chief Bos'n's Mate, a balding thickset man with hands that seemed as big as his head, with a voice like a bullhorn, felt ridiculous, but he was a decent actor and would look for his cues.

"We should prepare the links for the hoses now, Sir," explained Hanno as the fleet oiler was approaching. Supposedly the fleet was going to buy Lamonian oil tenders--the ones they were using now were referred to with contempt by the warrants and older deck hands. Ensign Gore took a deep breath, "Chief, prepare the links for the hoses, and commence refueling upon docking."
"Aye aye, Sir." said Hanno seriously.
Gore stood looking stern, but he was daydreaming about his departure from University. He was not an Academy man but a reservist, unexpectedly called to active service, and he had been torn. His girlfriend had begged him to come and join an Anarchist commune up in Teman, and he had been tempted, visions of braless girls and relaxing in the warm sun after tending a garden. But he just couldn't face his parents. He deeply regretted not saying "Let me think about it," because he might have been able to get her in bed just one more time. As he let his thoughts drift and watched the two ships mating, and then was drawn to the sound of a gull.

As Gore was daydreaming Machinist's Mate 3/C Tabitha Adams was down in the depths of the ship, at the crap end of the stick. There was still a prejudice against women in the service, but at least among the officers there was a courtesy about it. Among the officers it was mostly awkward; among the ranks it was at times unpleasant, but you never knew. It was even worse if you had a religious zealot as your immediate superior. MM 1/C Obadiah Yann and his superior, Senior Chief MM Schultz, had maintained the right to segregate female personnel, which meant finding quarters for them. The fleet was struggling with that generally. Even worse though, all the nasty jobs were given to her and her 2 female comrades. That meant that she was the one figuring out why the toilets kept overflowing. It was a serious problem--340 crew plus 1,200 troops embarked did a lot of urinating and defecating. The stink in the heads was unbearable, everyone was complaining. So she and her two juniors, one of whom was another woman, a pretty Riemaian called Kati Nikulainen, and the other of whom was a Dawarf, Bran Grumman, a hairy short plump little guy who was a decent fellow and probably a better mechanic than her, but was so uncommunicative, shy and socially inept that he'd probably never rise above Seaman 1st. At the moment he was busy turning the water flow off from the area of piping she was working at.

Kati came hunkering in among the labyrinth of pipes, and said, "Hey, Grumman says we're got the water shut off." She had a strong accent that was jarring, but Tabitha understood her.

"Hey, you know if we're gotting leave when we're gotting to Libraria?" asked Kati. Damn she was an airhead.

"I don't know, and I don't care at the moment," said Tabitha, grunting as she worked her wrench. "Watch out." the plug vent opened and a foul stench came out with a too-short trickle of liquid shit. Tabitha had held her breath, but the retching nearby told her that Kati had not. "It's not here," gasped Tabitha. "Blockage has to be farther down."

1st Marine Infantry Regiment
"Geeze, the head stinks," groused Private Sisera, lurching onto his bunk with a groan. He was a bulky young man, veteran of several campaigns, never to rise in rank because he was lazy when it came to leadership but good with a rifle. Private Crichton, one of his squadmates, was reading an old copy of Dirt Magazine, an Ossurwald rag that was among the various foreign pornography that made a brisk black market trade among the New Edomite military personnel. "Hey, is that the one with the Riemaian babe?" asked Sisera, perking up a bit.

"Yeah, it's good. Wish we'd get some new stuff though," said Crichton.

They had to be careful too. Sergeant Naham was stricter than their former NCO, who had gotten killed in the Buann River battle. The only reason no one had shot him in the back was that in the field he was the man. Lieutenant Ephraim Ehren, their company commander, was an earnest, brave and naive young man from Lookinghaven Province; rumor had it that he'd never had sexual relations in all his 21 years. In New Edom social rank still counted for something, it was unthinkable to be directly mocking to his face, and Naham, who didn't approve of mockery of officers, enforced the chain of command strictly.

Hutanjia. None of them had ever been there. They were apparently going as a show of force, whatever that meant, and to drive out the rebels. God save the King.

It was weird--none of them had ever seen a Hutanjian citizen, though they saw them in the news and in newspapers. Liberians were more familiar as an idea. You saw them all the time in ordinary ways. Made in Hutanjia was a typical thing you saw on a can of coconut milk or a pair of cheap rubber sandals. Lieutenant Ephren, in the classroom area that was being used as an officer's mess for the mechanized infantry regiment, was reading up on Hutanjia as part of a duty to present information and briefings to the troops. He was the youngest company commander in the regiment, and the only one without a captaincy. For some reason his promotion orders had gotten mixed up and apparently some corporal in a logistics regiment with the same name had been mysteriously promoted to captain. He had 4 junior officers under him--his executive officer, his forward observer, and 2 platoon commanders. The regiment had taken heavy casualties recently and this was the result. He was the only officer who had actually seen action, and most of that had been during the civil war. He had gotten shot in the leg and was forced to be inactive as a result.

Nearby, Captain Parod his closest friend in the regiment, was also studying it, but was chuckling. Parod was highly educated and found irony in many things. He was the regiment's artillery commander and had also been wounded in the civil war; it was in the Helladrian run hospital that they had become close friends, joking about the Helladrians in a friendly way and playing chess regularly. Then recently they had served together in Pravenia (former Chyeknovostan Republic) and in the civil war on the push towards the Buann River. Thankfully they hadn't had to seriously fight their fellow countrymen...

"What's so funny?" asked Ephren.

"Do not form sexual liaisons with the local population without express permission from your superior officers." said Parod with a laugh. "How in the world are we going to handle that? "Please Sir, may I go to the whorehouse..." "Alright, carry on soldier.""

Ephren blushed. "I don't think we should be encouraging that sort of thing." he said. Sometimes it seemed like Weber laughed at everything.

Parod gave him a more serious glance, and said, "Where we're going, we're going to need some laughs."

Earlier that day, young Ensign Ciaran, an Elwe officer, stood before Captain Spode’s temporary desk in a warehouse near the loading dock. Ciaran was a very handsome young officer from the Imed tribe, clean of limb and eye, and being an Imed prided himself on not being a barbarian like those people from Raith Immel. He was a staunch Monarchist as well. As he stood there in his tropical BDUs still crisp, he waited to hear what the Captain had to say.

Captain Spode was a huge man, as big as the legendary General Sam Sutherland, the tallest man in the Army by reputation. But where Sutherland was giraffe tall this man was mega fauna huge. He seemed to be eight feet tall and four feet across, at least to young Ciaran’s eyes. His face was like a chunk of granite only not quite as friendly, and his eyes glittered like chips of mica. “Ensign, you didn’t exactly come out at the top of your class.” Captain Spode said.

“No, Sir, but—“

“Did I tell you to speak?” Spode said coldly, staring at him. He waited for effect, then said, “Yes, you came out in the middle. That doesn’t bode well. If you were at the bottom, you might be bold. If you came out at the top, you might be a hard worker. But the middle…and you are indecisive. You started with the idea of an Engineering MOS, but changed your mind to Infantry. I don’t like indecisive officers, Ciaran. I will not tolerate incompetence. If you, through your incompetence, ruin any operation of mine, I’ll kill you. Don’t think,” he said, jabbing a huge finger at him, “That I’m speaking metaphorically. I’ve killed lots of my own troops before, and I’ll gladly do it again. Now get out of here.”

Ciaran fled. He found his unit; he had been assigned command of a Mortar platoon, but he didn’t know anything about mortars. He wanted to protest, but he was afraid to see Captain Spode again. When he had spoken to Lieutenant Ephren about it, he was advised that the Regiment had been decimated in the last campaign and that he should man up and bloody well deal with it. On top of that his platoon sergeant had a thousand yard stare and seemed uncaring about what happened. A knowledgeable corporal however seemed to be doing the work of several people and was greatly respected. At one point as he was hovering around the corporal adjusted his ugly glasses and said, “Ensign, what are you doing?”

“I’m….commanding the platoon, Corporal.” Ciaran was nonplussed; he’d been popular at the academy and in his home town; he’d been captain of his soccer team and had to beat the women off with a stick. Who was this geek to speak to him that way? On top of that, the corporal seemed to be utterly sure of himself.

“Of course you are. Well, sir, why don’t you go over there--“ he gestured to a shaded awning over a nearby machine shop, “And command real quiet like for the time being, sir? It’s a really hot day.”

And so he did, not quite sure why, and watched glumly, the sergeant unspeaking nearby chain smoking while the Knowledgeable Corporal got the mortar platoon loaded up and ready. Then somehow when Captain Spode, Lieutenant Ephren and Captain Tarod strolled by he saluted and said, “Platoon loaded sir.” Spode nodded as though he’d interrupted him rudely but was being tolerant, and he sighed with relief.

Now, feeling a trifle lonely but hiding it, he smiled at the laughter between the other officers in the mess and discreetly pushed his food away; there was a faint excremental stench about the ship for some reason...

21st Lancers, Air Cavalry

On the deck of the amphibious transport vessel Sterry helicopters were being serviced and fueled; 21st Cavalry troopers were going through a final inspection by their officers and NCOs. What lay before them was such a strange place that it might as well have been on another planet. Lieutenant-Colonel Elena Weber fingered her blue scarf and shuddered. She had had horrible dreams the night before in which she was helpless and naked, wandering in a disused building, afraid of being seen. Not like her at all. Sergeant-Major Beor, that neat tough lean man, was walking up to her and saluting. They wouldn’t do much of that on the ground but this was still a parade ground even if it shifted weirdly now and then. “Colonel, every bird is ready, every unit is ready.” The Sergeant Major and she had been through a lot together—he had been her first platoon sergeant back in the days of the Elwe rebellion. They were more than comrades, they were friends, which was rare. He had helped her through a difficult period of being one of the first female officers in a combat unit; she had demonstrated that she was an inspired leader. She had a peculiar ability, shared by her family, of having a sense of intuition. It told her now that the place they were going to was more than corrupt or devastated…that it was actually an evil place. But she had little understanding of how to deal with that. So she simply returned the salute, and smiled but said quietly, “I have a very bad feeling about this place. It gave me nightmares last night.” Beor took this seriously, and asked quietly, “Anything specific?”
Weber sighed. “Too much to be specific about. I don’t know. Let’s just be careful. Do our job.”


RNES Bardiche

GP HatchetClass Frigate Bardiche was preparing to go underway on a long mission.

However the crew were mostly concerned with their own problems. First of all was the very concerning one that they were deeply divided on the subject of who they were loyal to. It was barely spoken of, but while the politicians and princes bickered and argued, it was known, frankly, that part of the reason why they were being sent was probably because someone had alerted the powers that be that there were people who were adherents of the Free Congress aboard.

Second, there was the compulsory nudity law, which their commander interpreted as he did every other order--by the very letter and spirit of it. Insignia was to be painted on and inspected daily; hygiene to be maintained at all times, rules of fraternization even more strictly enforced, and daily sermons on sexual virtue and personal morality upheld by the chaplain. At first it had produced something like chaos, but then it simply became rather inconvenient. The only ones regularly exempt were the engine crews who wore coveralls. Sunblock applications were a twice daily thing. There was suddenly a lot more motivation to keep in shape. Then suddenly it had been advised to them that it was no longer in effect. The political divisions on the ship ran deep though—some people were still going nude whenever possible.

Commander Malachi Laban ran a tight ship; he had a special corps of officers, petty officers and chiefs who had the duty of almost constantly inspecting the ship. He believed that while on leave the personnel should have free rein as long as they did nothing overtly criminal; they would beg forgiveness of their sins from God with the advice of the chaplain and his lay assistants afterwards. On the ship the strictest morality was to be undertaken at all times. Laban was a member of the Haranese Christian Church and was fond of saying, 'Neither Navy regulations nor God is mocked!'

His Number One was a Lieutenant-Commander from Gloria Regis; Clytemnestra Hortensius was a rather serious woman who had been among those young woman encouraged to join combat arms when things began to swing that way. Like many Gloria Regians she was somewhat outspoken and had rather socialist politics. She was a closet member of the Feminist Party--though she had deplored their connections to international communism and had never come out of that particular closet. She was one of the sea-lawyers aboard who insisted on the rights of the crew to appear nude if they wanted to.

It was almost coming to fights at times, and he was glad that they were going on a long expedition in a way. Hopefully it would keep everyone really busy; even for a man as stern as Laban it was going to be tough.

But the toughest thing of all would be his opposite number aboard the Securis, the other frigate going. For the commander of that ship was Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain, son of the King’s Foreign Affairs Adviser and former Military Secretary to the Minister of Defense. As far as he knew the young man had never commanded a vessel larger than a corvette afloat; had sea experience enough, but how reliable was it?


“So,” said Prince Enoch, “One day an at home gorgeous wife is alone and the doorbell rings.She opens it to a guy, "Hi, is Tony home?"
The wife replies, "No, he went to the store, but you can wait here if you want."
So they sit down and after a while of silence the friend says "You know Sara, you have the greatest breasts I have ever seen. I'd give you a hundred buck just to see one."
Sara thinks about it for a second and figures, what the hell - a hundred bucks! She opens her robe and shows one to him for a few seconds. He promptly thanks her and throws a hundred bucks on the table. They sit there a while longer and guy then says "That was so amazing I've got to see both of them. I'll give you another 100 dollars if I could just see the both of them together."
Sara amazed by the offer sits and thinks a bit about it and thinks, heck, why not? So she opens her robe and gives Chris a nice long chance to cop a look.
Then Chris blushes and says, “That was amazing, wow…you know I noticed you have a beautiful walk. I bet your er bottom is just as beautiful as the rest of you…do you mind if I…well no, that’s too much…”
“No way!” she says, “That’s going too far!”
“I was thinking…for another hundred…”
“You want to pay so much…just to see my bottom? Really?” she is now blushing too but is really flattered and excited to be paid just to be looked at, so she stands up, turns around, raises her robe. He is almost falling off the couch. He gives her all the money.
A while later Tony arrives back home from the store. The wife goes up to him, "You know, your friend Chris came over."
Tony thinks about it for a second and says, "Well did he drop off the 300 coppers he owes me?"”
The others at the table burst out laughing. Commodore Celer chuckled, shook his head and took a good sip of his wine. “This is a fine Roman grape, Prince. You set a good table.” Around them was the debris, being cleared away by pretty servant girls wearing only black and white frilly aprons. General Unwerth took a deep breath; they had feasted on stuffed lobster, roasted quail, baked eggs, a delicious tabouleh salad and all chased down with good wine.
“That’s what’s wrong with the Compulsory Nudity Act—thank God we got rid of it.” Prince Enoch said, fondly glancing at one of the girls. “What’s the point? No mystery, no allure…”
“Impractical.” General Unwerth agreed. “Well…here’s to a safe journey, gentlemen, and to His Majesty the King!”
The officers, staff, navy, and marine infantry stood to toast to a safe journey and to the dilettante often absent young King. Their faces were flushed with good wine and food, good fellowship.
Prince Enoch had left the outfitting of his ship to Lieutenant-Commander Hadareser. The Old Man, as he privately called him, was a bitter man, though not at his captain. He was bitter because his wife of 10 years, he was sure, was having an affair, but he had no idea with whom. Enoch had of course gotten the man drunk, fed and flattered early in their relationship, did his very best to make it clear that his promotion would depend enormously on him and that he wouldn’t get in the way of naval operations. Hadareser was a typical coastal small town Baran gentleman; unsophisticated, loyal to his clan and a traditionalist. He hated the Free Congress for their attacks on tradition. In a way he was bitter about the navy; he had given his best years to it, and it kept him away from his family so much his children barely knew him, it seemed, and now this. So Prince Enoch had strongly encouraged him to focus on the work and the duty—what else could he do? In the meantime he promised to use contacts to find out about the man’s wife. Hadareser was a lonely man as well, and now he had a new friend. So did Enoch. And so confident in his new friend’s leadership skills he went with his guests to watch the servants put on a series of naughty burlesque acts.
Last edited by New Edom on Wed Aug 29, 2012 11:53 am, edited 1 time in total.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Falkasia
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Founded: Jun 22, 2008
Father Knows Best State

Postby Falkasia » Wed Aug 29, 2012 4:19 pm

The undergrowth was parted as a column of men stepped out in a clearing. It was evident almost immediately that something was different. By their uniforms and skin complexion, they were not islanders. In fact, they looked ridiculously out of place amongst the tropical vegetation and thick air.

Although clearly soldiers, the vibrant blue-black of their uniforms stood out like a sore thumb between the various hues of green and brown that the rainforest had to offer. What worked in most other climates and environments made them as evident as highlighters. They knew it too. Their heads were low as they slowly crossed the clearing, stopping every few yards to glance around and make sure a government spotter plane had not by chance come overhead. It was a dangerous task that required nerves of steel, at least until the enxt supply shipment brought them more appropriate gear.

Very quickly they had vacated the opening and returned to the somewhat protective cover of trees. Mosquitos and other pestilent insects hung heavy around them as theyr proceeded, their boots slopping at the soft ground and caked to the mid-thigh in mud. Many trees were shredded from the stump up, suggesting that a sort of skirmish had taken place not too long ago. Empty bomb casings and duds stood erect, embedded face-first into the soil. It was a virtual powder keg. Everyone hoped neither side would decide to renew the battle at that moment.

As they proceed forward down a narrow path, marked only by its lack of undergrowth and animal prints, the team slowly came upon a camp of sorts. Brown tents and various vehicles could barely be seen through the edge of the forest, but it was enough to inform the team that they had arrived. Slowly, carefully, they emerged from the depths of the wood and made time into the camp.

There were five of them, each laden with copious amounts of gear and clad in their ridiculous uniforms. Their arms, although originally concealed by foliage and muck, clearly displayed the emblem of FSIS Tactical. Although in all rights just as qualified as their more passive contemporaries, men invovled with Tactical either volunteered or were selected to take a more active role in intelligence gathering. They were the fixers, men who turned theory and supposition into results.

As they approached the rebel camp, the soldiers made a beeline for what they assumed to be the command tent. Introductions, as always, were in order first. Simply deploying aid without a face to attach it to was a losing recipe.

The Falkasians wanted to humanize the war, and so far with help of sympathetic media, had succeeded in doing so.
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Hutanjia
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Founded: Aug 28, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Hutanjia » Wed Aug 29, 2012 7:09 pm

SUBLEVEL 2, THE MONGOOSE DEN, CHASTILLE,
NEVORN ISLAND, HUTANJIA


Milton 'The Mongoose' Atave, the feared head of the KHS, pushed his small round spectacles up on the bridge of his small brown nose. He was reading over reports. He had finished with those of his behind the lines agents in Cardwith and Nesselburg. Fleeting reports of Falkasian agents and advisers - what else was new? He always knew their fingerprints were all over recent operations, if not their actual faces.
Now he was looking over those that really interested him. Ones from the agents in the Palace, on General Tonganu's command staff, on Regent Minister Horatio Vobatu's court staff, and in various other Government ministries, agencies and infrastructure companies around Nevorn. This was how he controlled Hutanjia. Leverage that put his policies into effect within and outside the Palace. It was an iron grip that he'd held since establishing his tendrils in the times of Otumlo II, Popilu's father.
The red light flashed on his desk in Sublevel 2, the first of the fortified levels under the Mongoose Den that acted as high impact bomb shelters. The Mongoose Den, on the outskirts of Chastille, was the HQ of the KHS. It ranked up with the FSB (KGB)'s Lubyanka as one of the most feared and hated buildings in the world. The KHS network reached globally, but many agents had been recalled during the start of the recent civil war.
He pushed the respond button. "Yes?"
"Sir, General Tonganu is here for his appointment."
"Excellent, send him in."
Monte Tonganu, the man most people blamed, including the Mongoose, for the current predicament Hutanjia found itself in. The Royal Army had nearly collapsed under his ineffectual, bloated leadership. Now it was time for Atave to make the soft, fat old man squirm again. Tonganu knocked, then stepped gingerly in to the utilitarian office that was not as big as a man in Atave's position would normally afford himself. Of course, this was not the Mongoose's only office. Besides his more palatial edifice for show purposes in the upper levels of the Den, among the analyst, IT and control offices, he had outposts all over the Kingdom. The Kingdom which now consisted of Nevorn Island and the garrison of Vesselle.
"Why do you summon me here? You know I'm extremely unconfortable being down here." He'd been escorted past several interrogation rooms with bloodcurdling screams emanating from them. It would take him a full day to settle from it.
The Mongoose smiled a thin smile, "Yes, I know."
Tonganu grunted. "I see. More games to try to intimidate me to do your bidding. Plans are in the works and the New Edomites are on their way. I won't need this alliance of convenience anymore and I don't think the Army ever needed it." He was beyond trying to hide his disgust.

"Since we're being so blunt; a lot of things can change and my reach is farther than you'll ever know, Monte. Your family for instance. Even your daughters, skiing at their fancy Neu Engoleen school, are under KHS watch. You...will...never...escape...my...grip. Suck on that."
Once Popilu stopped hiding this weasel, who didn't deserve his loyalty, behind his cloak, Atave would enjoy tearing him apart by every little bloody piece.
General Tonganu, Chief of the Hutanjian Armed Forces, did everything in his power not to outright run into the semi-lit hallways of the Mongoose Den. He would still need an escort out of the maze, after all.

The red light flashed again. He waited until Tonganu was down the hall with his escort before pressing the speaker button.
"Speak."
"Sir, we've tracked down the nephew." It was his agent in charge of Hesttens operations.
"Prepare the operation."
"Yes sir. Right away."
Things were turning around for the Mongoose as well as Hutanjia.
Last edited by Hutanjia on Thu Aug 30, 2012 7:20 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Paldariia
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Founded: Aug 12, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Paldariia » Wed Aug 29, 2012 8:02 pm

Few people paid mind to the 5 oddly dressed men who had entered the camp, most were either caught up in battle drills or trying to get some sleep. The few who did watch with an air of apprehension, sure the people of Falkasia had been helpful so far, but how long would it take for generosity to become conquest? They had live under the oppressive regime of 2 others in the past 150 years alone... could they survive another?

From the tent adjacent to the TOC a flap opened up and out walked a tall woman carrying an AK47 in one hand and a clipboard in the other. She stopped muttering to herself and looked at the men, "Oh, you must be the men from Falkasia; let me take you to the captain"; her accent had a hint of her British heritage in it and she gave a soft smile as she lead them into the TOC.

"Sir," she snapped to attention.

The captain was looking over a couple of maps that sat on the bulletin board in front of him, "What is it sergeant?"

"She relaxed and walked over to him "Sir the people from Falkasia have arrived." She extended the clipboard, "and here is the latest list of supplies."

He took the list from her "That will be all sergeant, thank you"

"Sir", she snapped off a quick salute and walked out the door whispering "good luck" to the men from Falkasia as she left.

He looked over the reports for a moment then through them on to his desk, "our latest supply reports," he addressed the men in front of him, "do you know what they say?" he reach for his AK and pulled out the magazine, he then popped out round after round onto his desk until 8 were strewn across the legal pads and papers. He smiled, "most of my men are in a similar position, we have no heavy weapons, no fuel for our vehicles, and no medical supplies... we are sitting here, trying to fight with no equipment", he through the magazine aside. "We are one company of 6, most of our equipment came from when we defected but we have almost nothing now... oh and we are probably the best supplied companies here." He sat down in a chair, "So, I've been told you are coming here to help us win this war... tell me how you intend to..."
Last edited by Paldariia on Fri Aug 31, 2012 8:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Bering
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Founded: Aug 25, 2012
New York Times Democracy

Postby Bering » Wed Aug 29, 2012 8:08 pm

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Last edited by Bering on Wed Aug 29, 2012 9:44 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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New Edom
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Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Wed Aug 29, 2012 8:36 pm

Somewhere on the Ocean

Hatchet Class Frigate Bardiche swept through the seas like a lean grey wolf, spearheading the five vessel squadron. Commander Laban sat in the CIC drinking honey sweetened mint tea and looking over reports. Meteorological Officer reported confirmation with Naval Weather Command at Tyrannis CAB that there would be some strong breezes later tonight and light rain. The commander of Engineering reported that the black crew's fitness reports were excellent. Everything was kept running smooth and normal, but you never knew, and in any case Laban wanted everyone alert and honed.

Laban advised the Commodore that he was going to do Anti Submarine Warfare drills while on the move, and was given approval, and ordered aviation crew to get the Sea Naga ASW helicopter up in the air.

He was a short but compact and strong man, with an easy air of command; his strong personality and determination made it almost easy. He was not known as brilliant but as tough minded and easily alert, level headed in combat and a ready multi-tasker.

The Sea-Naga took off from the deck, ready to tow her sonar array. Lieutenant Alia Oren, the pilot, was one of his best, even if he was deep down skeptical of women in combat, he never let on; orders were orders.Meanwhile the ship was already on alert, fireman teams ready, sonar and weapons alert. The Cromwell system gave them the eyes of Argus, alert to possibilities beyond the range of the naked eye.

The Sea-Naga swept up and away from the deck. Alia was feeling irritable herself, partly because they weren't mixing it up down south and also because she had caught the boys from the deck crew and her flight crew watching some twisted Riemaian 'romance' movie which was full of sex, talking about how hot the Riemaian naval personnel they were allied with must be. They seemed to make a point of doing this in front of her, but she flatly played indifferent or disgusted in a big sister way with them. It was hard to tell what was going on, and so it was always a relief to be up in the bird, doing what she did best.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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New Korongo
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Founded: Aug 21, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby New Korongo » Wed Aug 29, 2012 9:41 pm

Somewhere on the Ocean
“I understand that you are supposed to be carrying out some form of covert military operation but I think as the Captain of this ship I have the right to know what has been loaded into the hold.” Captain Vasily Kutuzov said, a line which he had been saying over and over again in his head for the past hour. He was scared of the Provincial Guard commander on board the ship and knew their operation was not legitimate but could not turn down the money which they offered, growing hatred towards the Delasantan people in New Korongo had made it difficult for the refugee ship owner to find a good-paying contract.

“Since we are already in the open ocean you can know. Other than the troops and pilots which you have already seen, we have also brought along five AH-6C Cayuse light attack helicopters and ten UH-1H Iroquois transport helicopters. In addition to this some thirty M60A1 main battle tanks, twenty FV102 Striker tank destroyers and fifty M101A1 howitzers for the government troops have been loaded into the hold.” Colonel William Caxton said before walking away to further avoid the Captain of the merchant vessel, he deeply resented Delasantans.

The ship, the KMV Rutherfordton, had been sailing for a day now but it would take approximately twenty to reach the small nation and support the government forces. Colonel Caxton hoped that their support would not be too late. Unfortunately he did not have the connections of his colleague Colonel Rachel Bancroft who was deployed to Adwest and could not have sped up the operation.

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Spark Islands
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Founded: Aug 17, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Spark Islands » Thu Aug 30, 2012 6:24 pm

Carrier Battle Group Four
225 nautical miles SE of Hutanjia


Vice Admiral Brent Larson stood near the plot table as his Intelligence Officer summarized the situation.

"Here we have the two ships we identified as New Edomese military vessels. It looks to be one amphib and a frigate or small destroyer. Over here, we're tracking a civillian vessel of unknown origin or intention. Most merchies have swore off the area due to the instability so it's possible they have a less than savory agenda. As of yet we are unclear as to who supports who, there's rumblings that Falkasia has deployed special operations forces, but nothing confirmed as of yet."

"Thank you Stuart.

Gentlemen, as you can see the situation remains fluid. The President is most interested in the outcome of this little war. As you know, the Republic's sympathies lie with the rebels, but for now we'll watch the situation develop and act when the time is right. Captain Baines, I'd like to step up the CAP, I don't punk ass islander landing a lucky shot on us. Commodore Byrnes, the same goes for the surface escort. Let's stay frosty out there everyone."

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New Edom
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Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Fri Aug 31, 2012 5:39 am

New Edomite Arrival

Two CFHQN-35A Kite Naval Rotodyne UAV were scouting ahead of the fleet, their radars and IR were sweeping around the area. Their handlers, on the flagship, were recording all the data it picked up; a naval intelligence team was analyzing this data.

Aboard the Kaztlan, the First Marine Infantry Regiment was preparing to land, with LCACs being given final checks and many checks of equipment being done by NCOs and officers. were instructed to be friendly to the locals, and some knew enough phrases to be able to greet them. A few knew the language or dialect at least somewhat and could communicate more directly.

To the infantry and cavalry troopers, this sort of campaign was old hat, but that also filled them with a grim anticipation and apprehension, variously. The average trooper had known war most of his life--from the uprisings in Greymark and in Raith Immel to the civil war between Monarchist and Free Congress; from the liberation of victims of purges in Dengali to the battles that followed. In a way, one battlefield had blurred into the next--it was mostly a matter of what weapons were used, what language you used to get a hot drink or a piece of ass, what kind of cover you could expect, what the weather was like. Like the marines they were also somewhat gender integrated, though the standards were still so harsh that few women really wanted to join, yet. You had to be really tough. The hazing of new recruits was rough, intended to weed out those who couldn't stand to be under constant artillery fire or in the field for days without bathing or hot food under constant stress. The NCOs and officers tended to stick with their regiments, rarely asking for transfer. It was hard to get into either the marines or the armored and air cavalry; they were elite units of the line.

However, they were also aware that anyone could be killed by mines, snipers or just about anything. The older troopers minded the younger, because they were the weak point, the ones who could get the others killed. It was the unit system that made them strong. A particularly elite set of units were among them; each regiment had a Scout Company whose purpose was the organization of long range patrols.

The Meeting

A Sea-Naga's pilot requested permission to land at quarters as that worthy was finishing speaking; it apparently bore General Unwerth and his staff.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Falkasia
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Founded: Jun 22, 2008
Father Knows Best State

Postby Falkasia » Sat Sep 01, 2012 2:47 pm

The Falkasian eyed the man solemnly, his eyes darting up and down as he sized up the Captain before him. The four others behind him spread out, forming a protective human barrier against the tent entrance. It was not a purposeful gesture, but a posture drilled into them by years and years of combat experience. Intimidation was not the goal, moreso defense, but the effect on others unused to such subconscious conditioning might take it as otherwise.

The commander, at least it was assumed the tiny stitched gold bars on his tunic collar suggested as such, broke a forced smile in an extension of good will. He looked down, removing the rough fabric glove from his right hand as he extended it forward.

"I am aware of what they say, Sir." The Falkasian placed emphasis on the last par. "Rest assured, whatever we don't have with us, we can get in a few days. All you have to do is ask, and we shall do our best to deliver."

The operative took the reports from the Captain and reviewed them. The requested gear startled him, not because of the amount or type, but by how conservative the list was. He had been expecting massive orders for napalm and herbicides, but these were few and far between when compared to the thousands of rifles desired. Perhaps these rebels weren't as well off as they had been led to believe.

"Very good," the Falkasian said, flipping through the folio of inventories. "We can have this gear delivered immediately."

He glanced behind him, silently motioning the other four men to step outside and secure the entrance. They did so, slipping out through the slit one at a time. The commander turned, stern once more.

"From here on out, I will be your contact with the FSIS. You will get whatever equipment you need and any support you require, but there will be various instances in which we will be taking over operations for our own purposes. I will inform you of when we are doing it, but nothing more. During these instances, you will give us full support from your rebel armies as we see fit, for as long as we deem it necessary. Should you find these terms unacceptable, me and my men will be more than happy to disappear just as silently as we arrived. The choice is entirely your's."

He turned and starting making for the slit, a beam of sunlight forcing its way through as one of the lips flapped idly in the breeze. Abruptly, he stopped, cocking his head to the side before leaving.

"You may address me as Yuri."
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Hutanjia
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Founded: Aug 28, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

More Arrivals

Postby Hutanjia » Sat Sep 01, 2012 3:44 pm

THE PALACE, CHASTILLE, HUTANJIA

King Popilu was up and about. He didn't seem particularly chipper, but...he wasn't moaning and carrying on as he had been the last few days.
Horatio Vobatu, Minister of Regency Affairs, sat at his desk in the Palace, in one of the administrative wings. For the King to walk in there and deem anything that a bunch of automatons did for him interesting was incredible, unless, no one was paying attention to him in the residential side of the palace, which, in this case....
"Horatio, what is Tooter and Yooba-tube...and, and 'Book in your face?' My goodness. Why is the Kingdom rating so poorly with this? At least, I seem to be more popular than Milton, 'The Mongoose'...Eeeeshh!
Horatio had risen from his chair and bowed to the King as was proper etiquette. He struggled not to burst out laughing at the King's confusion.
"Your highness, it is so good to see you in a better state and on the mend. I think you're referring to Twitter, YouTube and Facebook. These are what's called viral videos and rumors. The web, or internet, is full of them, while some more ignorant people can be swayed, international cases can't be formed from them. We are safe. But some activities could probably stand to be curtailed."

"Viral? It's a disease? Contagious?" At Vobatu's shaking head he breathed a sigh of relief. "These ...faked videos of KHS atrocities are all over the web? Yes, web. Hutanjia, and the Kingdom you are sworn to protect, are losing this internets war! We need to tell everyone the truth. That we are the rightful power and the KHS are only acting in the best intersests of the Kingdom and the people."
"Yes, well, KHS activity is very, shall we say, over the line. I doubt the videos are faked. That is what I mean by needing to be curtailed, sir. The Mongoose is acting way beyond your authority, Your Highness, which is making it hard to garner support from big International backers right now." He said this at almost a monotone whisper. KHS agents and Special KHS troopers were everywhere.
The Mongoose stepped from the next room, "Your lives are being guarded, only because the KHS special troops are extra vigilant right now. Is that 'over the line', that we work so hard to protect the Kingdom and those that work so hard to represent it? Perhaps we look in the wrong corners of the Empire for the traitors that undermine us?"
Vobatu stood stock still and his eyes widened in fear at the violent inference that was in the air. Even the King seemed visibly shaken at the creepy intrusion. The Mongoose was everywhere! At least now, he was on their side. Atave continued in a less hostile tone,
"Your Highness, I actually arrived to let you know that our special guests are here."

HUTANJIAN GENERAL STAFF HQ, OUTSIDE CHASTILLE, HUTANJIA

General Tonganu stood in the radio/communications room and gave orders to the CO in charge, who in turn barked at one of the many radiomen on duty. Directions were passed on to the New Edomite troop transports and scout helicopters to land at Jotaku Air Field, 20 km from Chastille and also, at Binimatu Air Base outside Monitha. Tonganu seemed almost giddy as the long promised aid from their foreign benefactors started to filter in to the country. He pulled his aide aside to make sure that his command car was readied for the trip to the Jokatu Airfield.
"Let the King and Minister Vobatu know so that they can prepare the official reception in downtown Chastille, and...keep this out of hearing of the KHS. I'd rather not have the Mongoose making an appearance if we can help it." Although he probably will anyway, The General didn't say aloud. "Also, make sure the Royal Barracks at Ft. Soleil are ready for the New Edomite Marines and guest forces. This needs to go super smooth. Our survival depends on it!"
Last edited by Hutanjia on Sat Sep 01, 2012 3:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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New Edom
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Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Sat Sep 01, 2012 4:01 pm

THE PALACE, CHASTILLE, HUTANJIA
A Flight of TH-300 transports, guarded by Cannondale Medium attack birds, were moving in a disciplined line towards the LZ. The Marines and Air Cavalrymen aboard were variously joking among themselves, tense or quietly watchful depending on character and experience. UAVs had determined dust off points--the key thing was to get the lead birds, which were carrying Rover Teams (special forces of which there were 4 teams of 8 ) who were to contact the rebel forces on the ground.

Major Potter leading one of the Rover Teams, was the first New Edomite to land, crouching and then jumping out of his bird, and ordering his people to follow him. One of his people, Lieutenant Wade, had the duty of being in contact with the UAV they were using the info of via her field laptop, and she crouched by the wall of a warehouse and got busy. Two CFNQ-31D Sea bolt naval UAVs streaked overhead quietlyMeanwhile, Sergeant Hanna, an RTO, was keeping close to him. Potter's sniper, Rowan, moved lithely like a desert wolf beside him.

Captain Zeldorinius of the 21st Lancers was the second officer of rank on the ground; his Troop was ordered to begin preparations of the headquarters and security for it. A dark olive tanned man with short black hair and dark eyes, he was a wiry and tough man who had been a number of campaigns; he would have frankly admitted that he loved war and wanted more of it.

The most important group to arrive however were General Unwerth and his staff; his Adjutant-General, his Operations Commander, Royal Intelligence Security Service Commander and Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain acting as naval liaison for the time being had arrived. They were all in crisp tropical multi-spectral BDUs with forage caps rather than helmets, and looked neat and efficient as though they were about to inspect a parade; clearly the Prince and the General were sharing a joke as they got out and walked to meet their opposite number.
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Hutanjia
Diplomat
 
Posts: 528
Founded: Aug 28, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Hutanjia » Sat Sep 01, 2012 7:42 pm

New Edom wrote:HUTANJIA
A Flight of TH-300 transports, guarded by Cannondale Medium attack birds, were moving in a disciplined line towards the LZ. The Marines and Air Cavalrymen aboard were variously joking among themselves, tense or quietly watchful depending on character and experience. UAVs had determined dust off points--the key thing was to get the lead birds, which were carrying Rover Teams (special forces of which there were 4 teams of 8 ) who were to contact the rebel forces on the ground.

Major Potter leading one of the Rover Teams, was the first New Edomite to land, crouching and then jumping out of his bird, and ordering his people to follow him. One of his people, Lieutenant Wade, had the duty of being in contact with the UAV they were using the info of via her field laptop, and she crouched by the wall of a warehouse and got busy. Two CFNQ-31D Sea bolt naval UAVs streaked overhead quietlyMeanwhile, Sergeant Hanna, an RTO, was keeping close to him. Potter's sniper, Rowan, moved lithely like a desert wolf beside him.

Captain Zeldorinius of the 21st Lancers was the second officer of rank on the ground; his Troop was ordered to begin preparations of the headquarters and security for it. A dark olive tanned man with short black hair and dark eyes, he was a wiry and tough man who had been a number of campaigns; he would have frankly admitted that he loved war and wanted more of it.

The most important group to arrive however were General Unwerth and his staff; his Adjutant-General, his Operations Commander, Royal Intelligence Security Service Commander and Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain acting as naval liaison for the time being had arrived. They were all in crisp tropical multi-spectral BDUs with forage caps rather than helmets, and looked neat and efficient as though they were about to inspect a parade; clearly the Prince and the General were sharing a joke as they got out and walked to meet their opposite number.


JOTAKU AIR FIELD (Hutanjian AF), NEVORN ISLAND, HUTANJIA

General Monte Tonganu and his staff sped up to the tarmac. The base commandant, a Colonel, gave a hand signal and two facing columns of troops that led all the way up to the lead New Edomite aircraft came to attention. Rifles were snapped to vertical to the ground. The honor guard were top notch and every AK assault rifle was held in line to each troopers' nose. A military brass and steel rhythm band struck up and tried a rendition of the New Edomite anthem. After a rousing try and miserable collapse midway through the song, they went into Hutanjian military marches with much better flow and ease. The King and his staff observed all the hoopla from CC TV in the Palace, 23km away in Chastille proper. The base itself was ringed by platoons of the Royal Hutanjian Marines, Anti-Aircraft missile and gun batteries and Hutanjian attack choppers did a wider circle; trading off patrols with New Edomite attack choppers. KHS Special Troops were conspicuously absent from the mix.
As the New Edomite military officials approached, General Tonganu and his entourage, who had climbed out of their vehicles that drove a short distance away, came to attention and saluted General Unwerth. They noted the joking as the New Edomite staff walked up, but kept their plastic grins in place. General Tonganu shouted over the sound of winding down props and jets of the various aircraft that were landing and taxiing,
"Welcome to Hutanjia! We are so glad to see you, General!"

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Neu Engollon
N&I RP Mentor
 
Posts: 6334
Founded: Aug 13, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Neu Engollon » Sat Sep 01, 2012 9:30 pm

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N&I Mentor - TG me with any RP questions
Please check my Factbook for everything you need to know about my nation, especially Important Links.
Also, if you're looking for a response on a RP, storefront or embassy exchange (national not regional), feel free to remind me via TG.

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New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 22973
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Sun Sep 02, 2012 12:47 pm

JOTAKU AIR FIELD (Hutanjian AF), NEVORN ISLAND, HUTANJIA

Prince Enoch concealed his instinctive wince at the failure to play the anthem properly; he kept his face set and 'on parade' while walking by General Unwerth, Captain Azhek (the Naval Liaison) and Colonel de Haren. "General Tonganu," said General Unwerth. He was a tall man with very weathered skin, wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, a lean face and body and short salt and pepper dark hair. "It is an honour to make your acquaintance at last, face to face. Thank you for this ceremony. Let me introduce my senior staff: Captain Azhek, my Naval Liaison and Colonel de Haren, my chief of staff. And with us as well is Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain, the King's cousin and the commander of one of our ships, honouring us with his presence today." This last was an athletically built young man with a dark olive tan, black hair and an air of great confidence, wearing tropical whites. "We are looking forward to working with your people in ridding this country of rebels."
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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Hutanjia
Diplomat
 
Posts: 528
Founded: Aug 28, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Hutanjia » Sun Sep 02, 2012 3:55 pm

JOTAKU AIR FIELD, NEVORN ISLAND, HUTANJIA

General Tonganu saluted voraciously, then bowed graciously towards Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain.
"Gentlemen and Your Highness, we are most pleased at your presence here in our humble country. This is my staff, including my aide, Colonel Roderique Hespatu, who you will see quite often." Colonel Hespatu saluted again.
"I am very sorry, but King Popilu and certain other Government officials couldn't be here due to safety issues and other duties.
We are most anxious to get started and do a quick debrief to get you acquainted with quick facts of the war so far. Facts may be tainted by our colleagues at the KHS or the Palace, so we thought we would give you a purely military command perspective before the more indepth debriefing and orientation at the Palace. Would you please follow me to Hangar C?"
Last edited by Hutanjia on Sun Sep 02, 2012 4:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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New Korongo
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6019
Founded: Aug 21, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby New Korongo » Sun Sep 02, 2012 11:20 pm

Korongolese Merchant Vessels, One Hundred Kilometres From Nevorn Bay
“I believe that it is now time that you got on the radio and sent an encrypted message to the government forces so they are not forced to intercept and search our vessel when their resources could be better spent wiping out the enemy.” Colonel William Caxton said after plotting the location of the Korongolese merchant vessels on a map. If the current speed was maintained, the ships would reach the port facilities of Chastille in just under three hours.

“Yes Colonel.” Captain Vasily Kutuzov quickly replied, during the journey to Hutanjia he had learned to keep his responses to Colonel Caxton short and concise to avoid any confrontation. He moved over to the radio and, with assistance from one of the Mount Hagen Provincial Guard officers, sent an encrypted message to the government informing the King of their intentions.

Code: Select all
King Popilu I,

Although the government of the United Provinces has chosen to ignore the developing situation in your nation, the government of Mount Hagen province has not. My ship, along with several other Korongolese merchant vessels, are one hundred kilometres from Chastille and should arrive in three hours. On board are supplies for your troops as well as troops of the Mount Hagen Provincial Guard willing to offer assistance. Please do not fire upon us.

- Vasily Kutuzov, Captain of the KMV Rutherfordton
Last edited by New Korongo on Sun Sep 02, 2012 11:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Hutanjia
Diplomat
 
Posts: 528
Founded: Aug 28, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Hutanjia » Mon Sep 03, 2012 8:11 am

Code: Select all
To: Captain Kutuzov, KMV Rutherfordton
From: The Palace and Hutanjian Army Command HQ
Message received. Welcome! We will be ready to receive you and unload the supplies and escort your men in some non-descript vehicles to some awaiting barracks. Your aide is most appreciated. We will let the New Edom fleet know to expect your vessels near their course. Please let the Mount Hagen Governor know how grateful we are!
With welcoming arms,
Regency Affairs Minister Horatio Vobatu

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New Edom
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 22973
Founded: Mar 14, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby New Edom » Mon Sep 03, 2012 10:30 am

The New Edomite senior staff agreeably headed over to Hangar C to hear their briefing; they had also brought their own information. "We regret the King not being able to attend," said General Unwerth, "But we'll be glad to present ourselves to His Majesty later on. Now: I should present our general plan which will of course be to some extent modified by what you are about to tell me," he said as they entered the hangar. "Essentially we're here to provide military assistance and advice. We are also here to provide a secure landing area for military supplies and funds. What we'll need to have some idea of is what you feel your people need in order to win."
"The three articles of Civil Service faith: it takes longer to do things quickly, it's far more expensive to do things cheaply, and it's more democratic to do things in secret." - Jim Hacker "Yes Minister"

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