Yural Gulf Dispute [MT][SFS][IC]

[Austiana]

Yural Gulf Dispute
OOC Thread | Map | Supreme Federated States

The Bombardier Global 5000 business jet flew into Ythereum air space, over the Yural Gulf. The jet carried 25 Austianese Officials from Parker Oil, Gasvorn International and members of the Austianese Government. After an 8 hour flight across the Macendaz Ocean, many of the passengers were relieved that they had finally made it to their destination. James Parker, CEO and Founder of Parker Oil glanced out the window , removing his eyes from Business Magazine. In the distance, he could see the isolated coastline of Ythereum. A rugged coastline, with a mountainous background.

Ythereum was a scarcely populated nation, filled with natural wonders and was renowned as the rooftop of the world. Not only that, but it was considered as the most spiritual of all nations across the globe. However, lurking beneath it's surface was perhaps Ythereum's greatest demon. Oil, and the small Tibetan-like country had plenty of it. That was why this group of Austianese elites had flown into Ythereum. They wanted this black gold, and they wanted lots of it.

The private jet turned towards the capital of Ythereum and its airport. Inside, the seat-belt sign was signaled, and the passengers prepared for landing. The jet dropped altitude, as the capital of Ythereum became clearly visible. It seemed very small, almost centered around the international airport. A small number of buildings stretched along the coastline, but were dwarfed by the gigantic mountains that stood behind them. The Bombadier business jet touched down on the dirt runway and came to a halt, as it taxied towards the International Terminal. This was much to the disappointment of many of the jet's passengers, who were accustomed to private, fancy terminals.

A staircase was moved to the exit of the plane, and it's occupants filed out, immediately sweltering in the Ythereum sun. Miranda Garcia, Minister for Natural Resources of the Austianese Government, lead the group towards the terminal where they met a member of the Ythereum Government. It was a monk, like most of the inhabitants of Ythereum. The monk escorted the group through the almost empty International Terminal, which could be better described as a small regional airport terminal, housed in a shed. The group caught the attention of most of the people at the airport. These foreigners stood out, with their immense wealth and foreign clothing.

The group was escorted to the Ythereum Government Headquarters. The government of Ythereum was very much theocratic. A small group of monks ran the country, and had little involvement at the village level.

The six cars that escorted the group stopped at a temple, in the heart of the capital. The street was relatively busy.
"This shall be interesting," James Parker smirked, obnoxiously to another Damian Clarke, owner of Gasvorn International.
"Indeed," Damian laughed, "Perhaps we could order in some of those robes to sweeten the deal..?"
The two laughed as the Minister for Natural Resources, Miranda Garcia, rolled her eyes. She didn't agree with how her government supported these gigantic oil corporations in their quest to destroy the natural beauty of Ythereum. She secretly hoped the monks were smart enough to deny them access, regardless of the economic benefits it would bring.

The group entered the temple, preparing to manipulate the Ythereum Government into allowing them access to their oil.

[Ythereum]

Inside the temple, the group could not be less impressed.

"This is their executive palace?" one sniggered. "It could fit inside my garage".

They quickly came to the antechamber of the Bei San, the leader of the Order of Ythur. The room was done up in bright pastoral frescos- some silently recognized them as Austianese farmland. As the men settled into stark wooden chairs and benches, a wrinkled old man in a monk's habit approached them.

"His Grace was not expecting you so soon," he began. Two or three of the businessmen simultaneously began to crack a joke about the wonders of modern technology, but thought the better of it. "He is still engaged in his morning meditation. We have prepared some light refreshments for you, while you wait. Additionally, the Bei San has requested that only six of you see him today. I'm sorry, but the others will wait here."

Waiting did not come easily to this group, who was used to having every desire immediately fulfilled. A knot of junior monks came in a side door, bearing trays of vegetarian spring rolls, steamed vegetables, and pitchers of water. The men ignored them, though Garcia munched thoughtfully on steamed carrots. They did not visit with each other, either, each on their own phone or tablet.

After half an hour of uncomfortable silence, the elder monk returned and stood before the carved door to the ruler's inner sanctum.

"His Grace, the Bai San, one-hundred and fourteenth man to bear the divine entity," he said, and opened the door.

The six- some picked by seniority, others by expertise, filed into a plain room- it had a high, barrel-vaulted ceiling and walls of smooth tan fresco. It was dark. Despite the bright sun outside, the room and no windows; the only light came from the groups of flickering candles huddled in the corners of the room.

On the wall opposite the door they entered was a bas-relief sculpture, an incredibly completely, nonsensical snarl of twisting lines and figures, coming together again and again in tessellations and inversions. The most junior of the group, a financial analyst by training, studied the sculpture intently- it must have taken years to carve. Some lines were needle-thin and could only have been worn into the stone with a thread or string. Others were as wide as his hand, others even larger. The designs collided with one another, came apart, came together again. It never quite formed a pattern, there was always some minute change to make it new. When the lines came together, they formed intersections- two, three, four, sometimes nine or ten different channels came together and apart like tiny starbursts. The analyst noticed a slight discrepancy in the near-repetition of the carvings- towards the top and bottom both, two channels veered out and off the stone, leaving two single entrances (or exits) at the border of the stone.

"It's maze," the analyst said abruptly, then caught himself. The leaders of the group had very clearly worked out who was to speak and when- and his part was not to be until much later.

"Yes," a clear voice replied. The group jumped- enthralled in the complexity of the design, they hadn't noticed the other occupant of the room.

Facing the carving, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was a man. Like the other monks they had seen, he wore a simple brown robe and had his head shaved. In the darkness of the room, they hadn't noticed him. He rose and turned towards them in a single motion. His upper body did not move at all- it was perfectly still as his legs unfolded themselves almost mechanically. His exact motions were obscured by the robe, but he had to have been double-jointed- there was no other way to come out of such a position with as little effort.

The Bei San wore the brown monk's habit, unbelted, and nothing else. He had a hard, lean body, from which the visitors quickly averted their eyes, and auqiline features. His brown eyes danced in the candlight. He was far younger than they had been expecting, almost as young as the junior monks that had served their food and driven the convoy.

"It is indeed a maze. Although, we prefer the term labyrinthe," he spoke cripsly, with the cultured accent of someone who had studied at one of the great universities of the east. "This is actually an aerial view of the meditation gardens in the center of our city. The south gate is just past our courtyard here. Come. We shall walk the paths, and you may have your audience. Damian began to object, this was not what they planned for, they were not prepared.

The Bei San held up a hand, and Damian fell silent. The leader looked from face to face, pausing for a long moment on Garcia's.

"Gentleman, and lady, you have come a very long way to be with me today. All but one of you have ignored my hospitality already- I am not going to further waste your time with greetings or pleasantries. If you wish an audience with me, you may have it in the gardens. The others will wait where they are."

He belted his robe, and lead the way through a door in the side of the room. A short time later, they were outside again, standing at the entrance to the labyrinthe. It was enormous, assembled out of blocks of white stone eight feet tall. Even the small pathway that served as an entrance was wide enough for four to walk abreast - the wider paths would be as large as city streets. From inside, they heard the slight gurgling of running water. Most of the stones were covered in flowering ivy. The tops of trees and shrubs could be seen poking above the blocks here and there. In person, the place seemed less like a maze and more like a botanical garden.

"As we said, this is a place of prayer and meditation- but it is also a maze. As we traverse, please stay with me- you've seen how complex it is. He turned, and entered the complex.

"Now," the Bei San called over his shoulder, "tell me what you came here to tell me."

[Austiana]

"Well," Damian stepped forward, beginning to clumsily open his briefcase, "This is your lucky day, Mr San,"
Damian struggled with his case, until finally he pulled out a contract, consisting of 600 pages. He shoved it in obnoxiously into the Bei San's chest, who snatched the paper as he turned around to face the group.

Damian dusted himself as he stood upright and smiled at the Bei San hopefully, who glared suspiciously at the document.

"I didn't ask for a novel, I asked for an explanation,' The Bei San spoke calmly, handing back the contract to Damian.

"Oh, um..." Damian fumbled, "Well, it seems Ythereum is abundant in oil, and lots of it,"

The Bei San looked across the garden, at around 20 monks, who had not even noticed the loud and clumsy group. They were very deep in prayer. After staring quietly at the group for nearly a minute, Damian rudely interrupted.

"Mr San, what do you think,"

The Bei San faced Damian, studying this white man's young and oblivious face. The Bei San knew too well what the foreigners wanted, he certainly knew that they weren't here to see the sites.

"Where?" The Bei San asked, simply.

"Uhh, what do you mean," Damian asked, then suddenly understanding the question, "Oh, umm, up the coast, about 16 miles. We estimate there is about 600 million barrels, that's about the size of the oil in Emirasia!"

"Many good people live up that way," The Bei San said, he started walking away from the group, down the path. The six Austianese closely followed, wondering when this madness would be over, and when they could go to their hotel.

The Bei San stopped. This time, James Parker, CEO of Gasvorn Oil decided he would talk things over with this foolish monk.

"They shall be moved elsewhere, to modern housing made especially for them by Gasvorn Oil," James smiled, trying his hardest to make his company seem honest and reliable, "Now sir, what do you think? May we move in and begin oil operations in your great country. We will, of course, take great care and respect the beautiful environment of Ythereum and the peaceful people of Ythereum,"

Damian stepped forward again, handing the Bei San a pen and the contract, "So, sign here please?"

[Ythereum]

Grand Labyrinth of Ythur
Ythereum

The Bei San turned around and resumed his stroll. Following him, the capitalists saw him flipping through the contract and making notes, making turns on the paths seemingly at random.

"Firstly, friends, I believe your production schedules are off. Because of the unique structure of the shale formations, even if you are using cutting-edge drilling techniques, your wells could not begin pumping until fourteen months from now, not the eight you forecast."

"Also, we are both aware that the oil futures markets are due to spike severely within the next couple months, as tighter regulation restricts production in Emirasia and points elsewhere. Your proposed compensation simply does not reflect expected market value. I would propose that any payments to my nation reflect be structured with a component that floats with the futures price- isn't that how other oil-producing regions are paid?

"Additionally, the area we speak of has a name, the Murakai wetlands. It's home to many farms and villages, their economy is almost entirely tied to the rice paddies found there. Rice farming is a rather unique art that requires very specific conditions- the areas where you propose they be relocated too do not meet those requirements. Therefore, you propose you uproot these families from their livelihoods, drop them hundreds of miles away, with no new source of income.

The six stood dumbfounded. The Bei San smiled, and continued. They proceeded through a long corridor carpeted in blooming flowers.

"Surely, you learned in the course of your due diligence, that I was educated in the best of your universities? Among my credentials include a degree in economics from the University of Ania. Perhaps you don't remember, Mr. Damian, but we once competed in a fencing tournament. The battle was hard-fought, but I won, and I wondered if we would cross swords again. I was known as Milo Vozohd then. Though it was after my divinity was discovered, for the sake of my education, my advisers and I decided that it would remain a secret."

The Bei San shook his head briefly, as if clearing the memories from his mind. They turned a corner and approached a group children playing in a fountain, turning into a narrow pathway. The children fell silent when they saw their ruler, but shrieked with laughter when he splashed water from the fountain over their heads as he passed.

"Anyways, friends, you must also know that agriculturalists, not industrialists are the dominant social group here. My people call them the San Fan Kirrup, the "Men of Steel." People who rely too much on technology, people who try to impose their will on nature instead of being one with it. The San Fan Kirrup are not to be trusted, they are a necessary evil who must be dealt with as little as possible. It's a sheer accident of fate that the term sounds much like your "corrupt," but the feeling is much the same."

The pathway entered into a large plaza; a large pond in the center of it. An old woman was cooling her feet in the water. The Bei San turned and bowed. The woman nodded and smiled in return. She had no teeth. The group left the plaza, walking through a medium-sized path between two curving walls.

"My answer is this: There will be no drilling in the Murakai province, or anywhere else on the Ytherian soil. You will be permitted, pending a more fair compensation structure, to install a maximum of fifteen oil rigs in our waters. Members of the Fel Ythur, my own order of priests, will be quartered on each to observe the process. The rigs are to be located no less than fifty miles from the shore, and any waters that we declare vital to our fishermen.

"I will telex you our revised compensation proposal. Be warned, it will not be as nearly attractive to you as the one you came here with. I expect an answer within twenty four hours. Thank you for your time, friends."

As the Bei San thanked them, they turned a corner, and were suddenly outside of the labyrinth again. The group blinked in the sun- they were in the heart of Hang Seng, on a market day. The sounds and smells of produce and livestock were everywhere. The six cars that had transported them from the airport were waiting nearby, the nineteen members of the group already inside. One man reflexively offered his hand to the Bei San, but withdrew it as the ruler stood silently. Without another word, the six climbed into their vehicles, and pulled away.

[Handiyan]

After 10 years of Communism, the people of Handiyan were tired. The Communist government was worn down and was standing on the brink of a revolution. It would just take one man to push the country into a revolution. That man was Felipe Juarez. Felipe Juarez wrote many books explaining his views on politics and the people loved him. They would do anything, even go to war, which they did. Taking down the Communist government was the easy work of one week. After the Communist government was overthrown, Felipe Juarez explained the greatness of Fascism to the people of Handiyan. He explained that Handiyan could not live without it and the world could not live without it. Felipe Juarez was quickly pronounced the new leader of Handiyan (the official position was called Leiter) and the people would march by the masses to watch Felipe Juarez speak. Whenever Felipe Juarez spoke, the people would throw the new salute (a fist pointing right in front of them) up in the air. The Leiter would dress in a military uniform whenever he could to promote the country's focus on military.

Felipe Juarez went to the doors of his new office. Two soldiers were standing outside his office and as soon Felipe Juarez was in view, both soldiers saluted the Leiter yelling,

" Hail my Leiter!"

The Leiter saluted the soldiers back and entered his office. In his office he approached his desk which had a globe on it. The Leiter stroked the globe slowly saying

"...... Soon......."

[Austiana]

There was a great sense of dismay among the members of the group. They had flown all the way from Austiana, to the middle of no where, and been shot down by the Bei San. The group strolled into the International Hotel, in the centre of the capital. The sun dipped behind the mountains as the moon rose over the sea.

Damian has made his way down to the bar, with his long time friend and enemy in the oil business. James Parker, CEO of Gasvorn Oil laughed as Damian ranted about the Bei San.

"That monk is unbelievably stupid!" Damian cried, sitting at the bar beside James, "Does he know how much money he could have made? He could have put Ythereum on the map! I don't understand, he is such a brat!"

James just listened, as he sipped on his vodka martini. The bar was empty, aside from a bartender who read the newspaper beside the champagne rack. An analogue television played quietly in the background, and was tuned into Handiyan State Television, as Ythereum did not have a television network of it's own.

"You know, Damian," James smirked, "This Bei San or whatever his name is, is quite smart. He knows that oil brings a great deal of environmental problems, not to mention the huge amount of human displacement. However, we will get to that oil sooner or later. We will just need to bargain with the bastard, come to a deal that we can all agree on. He has granted us access to some of the oil in the ocean, around 9% of the total oil we have found in Ythereum. We will employ thousands of locals, which will boost the national economy. This monk will see the benefits of oil, and want more. He'll be on his knees, pleading us to begin drilling in other areas of Ythereum. You shall see,"

"You don't know that for sure, James," Damian said, as he sculled the rest of his drink, "He'll also see the environmental devastation,"

"We shall control that as best we can," James exclaimed, "Do you remember drilling for oil in Emirasia? The Emirate didn't want to let us in at all. He granted us access to some minor wells, loved the wealth it brought, and now... Emirasia is the largest producer of oil in the world!"

"So what do you propose?" Damian asked, becoming more and more doubtful.

"We will sign the contract, set aside a generous 15% of our profits for the Bei San, maybe a little extra on the side, he'll soon fall in love with oil. Hell, maybe he'll even worship it!" James laughed. Damian couldn't stop a smile.

The two turned their attention to the television. It was Handiyan State News, announcing the fall of communism and the rise of fascism.

"Should we be worried?" Damian asked, "This guy looks very aggressive. We have oil sites in some parts of Handiyan, we could get kicked. Ythereum could be at risk of Handiyan.."

"Not a chance," James interrupted.

The two left the bar and retired to their respective rooms. Little did they know, a war was brewing in the Yural Gulf.

[Handiyan]

General Thompson (A previous communist general but now a strong fascist, swayed by the words of the Leiter) burst into the Leiter's office. As soon as he saw the Leiter, he saluted the Leiter and said,

"Hail my Leiter!"

The Leiter saluted him back and said,

"What do you want!?!"

"My Leiter, our intelligence has told us that a company from Austiana wants to move into Ythereum to pump oil."

"How does this affect us?!?"

"Well my Leiter, as we know Austiana must move in materials by plane to get them to Ythereum. We suspect that they won't just be moving oil pumps but also troops, tanks, or even nuclear bombs. We suspect that the company thing may be partially a lie. We believe that they, along with war materials, will actually bring oil pumps. This oil could be used for their tanks or they could sell the oil and use it for war funds."

"How do you know it isn't just a company seeking oil?"

"Well... we don't know my Leiter, but as your chief war advisor, I advise you to express your extreme disapproval for the oil scandal... just to be safe."

"I will address the nation and the world soon."

"As you wish my Leiter."

Both men saluted each other and once General Thompson left the room, the Leiter got straight to work on a speech.

Once he finished he pressed a button on his desk and told his secretary there would be a speech later that day. He told her to gather the masses, the speech would be started at exactly 8:00 PST.

[Handiyan]

The Leiter put on a new military uniform as he was getting ready to address the nation and the world. The Leiter was not nervous before he had to give the speech. In fact, he was confident. He knew his people loved him so why be nervous? He looked at the clock and saw it change from 7:59 to 8:00. The doors that opened up to his balcony opened up. The Leiter walked onto the balcony and saw the two soldiers that opened the door for him. As soon as the Leiter walked onto the balcony, the soldiers immediately saluted and yelled,

"Hail my Leiter!"

The whole crowd did the same thing,

"Hail my Leiter!!!!"

Once they were done saluting him, the whole crowd was silent. He saluted them back and started the speech.

"As we know... a great ally of our dares to threaten us.... HOW DARE THEY?!?! NO ONE MAY THREATEN OUR GREAT AND GLORIOUS NATION!!! 'HOW DO THEY THREATEN US' YOU MAY ASK!! THEY ARE SENDING TROOPS AND OIL PUMPS TO RID US FROM THIS PLANET!!! 'HOW DO OIL PUMPS THREATEN US?' YOU MAY ASK!!! OUR GREAT GENERAL THOMPSON TOLD ME THAT AUSTIANIA CAN USE THE PROFITS FROM THESE OIL PUMPS FOR WAR FUNDS!!! Before I get even more crazy allow me to introduce you to the enemy... allow me to introduce you to the people that want to rid us from this earth!!!!!"

A soldier brought Austaina's flag and the Leiter quickly snatched it and took a lighter out of his pocket. The Leiter lit the flag up and said,

"LET THE TRAITORS FALL AS THEIR WEAK FLAG HAS FALLEN!!!! LET A NEW REVOLUTION WASH OVER THEM!!!!!"

When the Leiter said this, a huge Handiyan flag was laid down above the balcony; above the Leiter's head.

"GOD BLESS HANDIYAN!!!!!!"

The crowd finally broke its silence and started cheering and making a lot of noise. They started saluting the Leiter and some people even started crying. The Leiter saluted the crowd and then the soldiers, who as always saluted and yelled,

"Hail my Leiter!"

The Leiter walked back into his office, he sat at his desk and opened his desk drawer. He pulled out a whisky bottle with two glasses. He filled both glasses and said,

"One for me.... and one for Handiyan."

He drank both glasses and then fell into a deep sleep.

[Austiana]

Bureau of Intelligence and Security HQ,
ANIA, Austiana

"Who the hell is this nutcase?" Jack Downer spat out, as he pulled off his headset after analyzing, "He's going to start a nuclear war if he isn't careful!"
The office was filled with Austianese intelligence agents, passing documents, analyzing videos and pictures all of Handiyan's new, and utterly ruthless leader.

The Director of the bureau walked in the room, his presence immediately felt. Yuri Schwarzkopf, a retired 4 star general, was the most feared man of the Austianese Intelligence Agency. He had lead almost 600 successful operations in his career as director, most of which revolved around counter-insurgency in disputed territories of South Austiana.

"Tell me everything about this guy!" Schwarzkopf yelled, "I want to know everything! From his military career, family, affiliation with Austiana, even his favorite soap! You can sort out that data and tell me if he's a credible threat, I've got a very worried President here and it looks like very important oil operations may not go ahead if this lunatic is for real!"

The office became incredibly busy very suddenly. Printers worked around the clock, keyboards clicked away, phones rang and voices echoed across the room.

---

Murakai Province,
Ythereum

"Shit," Damian said, abruptly, "We're in some trouble,"

Damian and James, CEOs of major Austianese Oil Companies, camr to the Murakair Province to view the land that sat on top of the oil they so desperately wanted to drill. They had found a small, but healthy and lively farming community, based around rice farming. It was a very pleasant place, however the two men only had oil on their mind. With them, there were two assistants and four surveyors, measuring the area of which oil was believed to be present. They had gained a lot of attention from the peaceful villagers.

Damian's tour assistant had handed the CEO an urgent message from the President of Gasvorn Oil and a close affiliate of Damian.

The message read:

Code: Select all

Room 059, International Hotel, Ythereum
ATTN: Damian Clarke, Chief Executive Officer of Gasvorn Oil

It has become incredibly unsafe for all Austianese citizens present in the Yural Bay, as a result of serious threats made by the Government of Handiyan in recent days. The main reason for this outrage from the Handiyan Government is due to the oil operations we are currently planning with the Ythereum Government.

The Government of Handiyan fears this expansion may reduce the influence and 'sovereignty' of their country, and have made very unnerving threats against Austiana.

For your safety, I recommend returning to Austiana as soon as possiblie, and continue this oil operation in Ythereum at a later date.

Best wishes,
Marcus Chaplin
President of Gasvorn Oi

"This Handiyan dictator has spoken out about our oil operations," Damian said, handing the message to James.

James briefly read the message, and began laughing,

"Do you honestly think this nutcase can do anything," James smired, "These are just threats. We will continue our operations, he's only a little bit upset that some Austianese people are cashing in on some oil,"

"But, what if he does carry through with his threats?" Damian asked, worried.

"He won't. We will leave when scheduled, which is in two weeks. We have a lot of work to do here in Ythereum, and a great deal of discussion with the Bei San. Some lunatic in another country won't change that,"

James shoved the message into Damian's chest, and continued talking with the surveyors.

[Ythereum]

Temple of the Bei San, Government Plaza
Ythereum

The Bei San sat in his private chamber. Legs crossed, eyes closed, he faced the carved stone representation of the Grand Labyrinth. Behind him stood a coterie of Fantan-Sarat, senior monks of the Order of Ythur, of which he was both the sole deity and high priest.

"Your grace," a senior monk began. "The situation grows even more worrisome. Despite your stipulations, the Austianese have begun to survey land in the Murakai for drilling."

"What of the offshore rigs?" the Bei San asked.

"Three have been installed and will begin producing shortly," a second monk replied. "Two more are in place, but not configured. Five more are en route from Austianese harbors, the first will reach it's designated site this Thursday.

"I expect a full dossier of their locations and statuses prepared by noon," the Bei San.

"Yes, your grace," the monk acquiesced.

"Hamish, the geopolitical situation?" the Bei San pressed on.

"Your grace," began a third voice, that of the Bei San's closest adviser. "The Austianese are not content to drill only offshore, and clearly intend to begin mainland operations, by dint of military force if necessary. Their greed is offset by the unsettling events in Handiyan. Their leader appears...erratic. They clearly wish to deny the Austianese access to our resources, but we cannot gauge what his intentions are towards us."

"You are suggesting they will label us as an enemy due to our arrangement with the Austianese companies?"

"I am suggesting we reach out to them, your grace. We offer them equivalent concessions to our oil deposits, to show that we are neutral. If Austiana and Handiyan go to war, we will supply them both and double our profits."

"What good will our profits be, Hamish, if Ythereum is the primary battlefield. This is a conflict over resources, our resources. If they go to war, I have no doubt that both will attempt to occupy our territory."

"You are wise, exalted one. What shall we do?"

The Bei San was silent.

"Send an emissary to the Leiter of Handiyan. Someone young, but be sure he is trained well. He is to give tidings of our neutrality, inquire towards their intentions. We must have knowledge of what the Leiter wants, and what it will take to be left out of the impending conflict."

"At once, your grace." The monk Hamish nodded at an acolyte. "Send the word to the Southern Lotus Temple; humbly request that Brother Pello prepare for a mission...He's one of our best missionaries, your grace, a truly skilled diplomat." He turned back to the acolyte. "And send the word to prepare one of the Learjets, and file a flight plan for Handiyan."

"No!" the Bei San barked. "Discretion is critical. "Brother Pello is to take commercial transportation, under an assumed name, in civilian clothing. The Austianese will surely be watching our meager air traffic for anything unusual; an envoy to their enemy will surely attract attention."

"Of course, Bei San."

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

36 hours later, Brother Pello stepped out of the small turboprop airplane, blinking in the Handiyan sun. Dressed in a plain suit, he carried a satchel with Ytherian diplomatic credentials. Walking confidently, he exited the airport and called a cab.

He nodded to the cabbie as he took his seat.

"The capitol."

[Handiyan]

The Leiter's secretary entered the Leiter's office and said,

"My Leiter, there is a man here that wants to speak to you. He claims to be a diplomat from Ythereum."

The Leiter let out a sighed and said,

"Did you run his diplomatic ID?"

"Yes my Leiter."

"Let him in, I guess."

Brother Pello entered the Leiter's office and looked at the Leiter who was looking out the window. The Leiter turned around and saluted him (Handiyan's fascist salute) and sat down. The Leiter sighed and looked at the diplomat very disgusted. The Leiter began speaking without offering Brother Pello a seat.


"What?!?"

[Ythereum]

The Leiter took a bottle from a desk drawer, splashed something brown into a glass. The smell of good, strong scotch filled the room. Brother Pello spoke swiftly, hands clasped behind his back.

"Honorable Leiter, I come to you as a personal emissary of the Bei San, ruler of Ythereum and Deity-Priest of the Order of Ythur. The Bei San wishes praise your courageous reforms in Handiyan, and hopes that your reign will be long an bountiful."

The Leiter snarled, squeezing his fist so tight the glass shattered. Blood and glass and scotch dripped onto the carpet, but the Leiter seemed unperturbed.

"The Bei San's praises are low on my wish list! What I need is oil! What I need is allies against the Austianese dogs!"

The Leiter casually licked scotch from his fingers. Amazed, Brother Pello continued slowly, choosing his words with great care.

"You must be aware that we have no military. It would be foolish in the extreme to declare war on any state. But the Bei San wishes dearly to be your friend. The Austianese companies are not allowed to drill on our soil, but they have been granted the permission to install fifteen rigs in Ytherian coastal waters. As a prove of our goodwill, the Bei San wishes to extend the same oppurtunity to Handiayn."

"Yes....yes! We accept your gracious offer." As the Leiter spoke, a pair of maids came in through a side door. One swept the the glass and began to blot the carpet. The other knelt and wiped clean the Leiter's shoes. The ruler ignored them, his lips pursed tightly as Pello continued.

"I'm sure this arrangement will be mutually beneficial. Although I have a single request, a small favor to ask for as a token of the friendship between our nations."

The maids finished their tasks and gathered their supplies; the Leiter suddenly smiled wide and gave one a sharp smack on the rear as she turned to leave. As they scurried out, the Leiter took two fresh glasses and filled them both to the brim.

"Anything," he cried, handing one to Pello, "for our Ytherian brothers!"

Pello swirled the glass, keenly observed it, but did not sip the scotch. "Leiter, while the Bei San assures you he fully supports your administration, there is one small policy he must ask you to recant."

The Leiter drained his glass and smacked his lips loudly. "Yes, yes, get on with it!"

"There is a small but substantial group of ethnic Ytherians living within your borders, numbering just over a million persons. They are true and patriotic Handiyan citizens, but for reasons that may or may not be related to their heritage, they are being deprived of certain rights. Since you have begun your glorious reign, their private property, their shops and farms, have been confiscated in the name of the state. They have been denied the right to worship, and their temples have been closed."

The Leiter help up the glass to his eye, peered at Pello through it like a spyglass. "And?"

"Though they are citizens of your realm, they are also faithful Bar-Ythur, children of Ythur, and therefore the responsibility of the Bei San. He insists that you return their property, and allow them to worship as they please."

Brother Pello looked at the Leiter expectantly, waiting for a response.

[Handiyan]

The Leiter looked at Brother Pello for a moment and then answered,

"No.... You see, your people are a great asset to the.... 'operation' we have going on here. Frankly your request is an insult. You should be glad I don't send you to the firing wall right now for offering such a thing in my own office. But I am a kind man and I don't believe in killing the messenger, I believe in killing the people who sent him."

The Leiter pushed a red button on his desk and immediately, two soldiers popped into the Leiter's office and saluted him.

"Hail my Leiter, what are you orders my Leiter?"

"Send this fool out... and if you see any people from Ythereum on the way out.... kill them in this fool's face"

The soldiers followed their orders. The Leiter sat back in his chair as he heard several gunshots on the floors below. Soldiers from Handiyan then took Brother Pello to a Handiyan airforce base. Brother Pello was loaded onto a military plane and flown back to Ythereum. As soon as they were over Ythereum's airspace, a soldier gave Brother Pello a parachute and said,

"Out!!!!"

"But-"

"It was the Leiter's order's that I either let you out of the plane this way or I shoot you and let your body be their problem!!!!!"

Brother Pello understood the position he was in and did the only logical thing......

Back in the capitol the leader was talking to General Thompson.

"General, carry out operation 'Black'"

"Yes my Leiter. What so we do about their people in our country though?"

"Kill them!!! Send them to concentration camps!!!! I don't really care!!!!"

"Yes my Leiter."

General Thompson saluted the Leiter and went to his office. After about five minutes in his office, General Thompson left his office with a file tittled "Operation Black, Invade Ythereum" General Thompson sent 500,000 troops to the Ythereum-Handiyan border. War was ready but the Leiter decided to delay his formal declaration of war... for now.

[Ythereum]

Ania central post office
Austiana

Shortly after the blockage began, the following ad began appearing in a few very specialized publication.

WANTED:
Former special forces operators to form core of fledgling militia. Enjoy an unlimited expense account as you train, outfit, and lead a brand-new fighting force. Meals, travel, and incidentals included.
Great benefit package. Discretion a must. False Flag Experience preferred.
Please mail applications to Box 1377, Ania, Austiana

Brother Kiro, the newly-appointed Minister of War of Ythereum, checked the box in the Ania central post office. It was empty, for the third day a row. He wiped his brow with his pocket square. He was used to the cutting winds of the Ytherian highlands, and his simple monk's cassock. The suits and ties that he'd been ordered to wear were tight and hot, especially in the temperate climate of Ania. Kiro cursed silently, wishing he'd never gotten his "promotion".

After Brother Pello's ignominious return home, the Bei San had been livid. Ythereum's tiny government scrambled to make preparations for national defence. Brother Kiro, a trusted friend since the Bei San's childhood, was appointed to the new post, and sent to Austiana. Kiro had been given a blank check from the Bei San and was to procure supplies, weapons, vehicles, and the services of trained men to build the corps of volunteers waiting in Austiana into a trained force.

Brother Pello had arrived in Ania a few days after Kira did. He'd been comatose since his chute had failed to deploy on his return to Ytherian soil, and remained in critical care in a private hospital. No one yet knew what horrors he had witnessed in the Handiyan capitol. Kiro visited him daily, and telexed the Bei San frequent reports on his slow recovery.

He'd wished he'd had better news to deliver. For three weeks after the ad launched, he had interviewed applicants. Some were clearly imposters, armchair warriors with no experience or expertise. Other were truly dangerous, ready to kill something, anything. Neither types had the drive and management talent they were looking for. They needed men who could plan and lead and fight and win (or not at least not lose). Talented men of this stripe, specialists in a dozen different fields, were apparently exceedingly hard to come by.

Kiro closed the door of the box and spun the dial. He had taken meeting after meeting with arms and materiel manufacturers. He'd placed orders for tents, rifles, helicopters, radios, the list went on and on. The suppliers were prompt and efficient; the gear now filled a row of warehouses along the docks of the capital city. Even with the equipment, the Ytherian "Armed Forces" was still a gaggle of untrained farmers and shepherds tripping over their new combat boots. Meanwhile, the military pressure from Handiyan mounted daily, as Ytherian nationals in Handiyan were rounded up and interned in camps.

He left the post office and called a cab back to his hotel. The Bei San's instructions were clear. If, after three weeks, he had not assembled a cadre, he was to move to Plan B.

It took him three appointments, two lunches, and some petty bribery (a pair of tickets to the opera) before he could secure a meeting with his counterpart in the Austianese government. It was a breezy afternoon, just after lunchtime, when he arrived at the Austianese defence headquarters.

[Handiyan]

The Leiter was looking hungrily at the globe on his desk when there was a knock a his office door.

"Enter"

It was General Thompson.

"Hail my Leiter"

General Thompson saluted the Leiter as the Leiter saluted him back and said,

"What are the news of the war?"

"Well my Leiter, Ythereum seems to be preparing for a war but their people are so untrained that if we invaded now, we could win the war within a week."

"Excellent! Now General, I want you to attack Austiana's little 'construction site'. After the attack, have our ships set up a blockade; we don't want any... distractions from other countries. Show them the power of our Navy!!!"

"Yes my Leiter"

Both men saluted each other and the General left to the nearest navy base. Once he arrived at the navy base, he entered the base's communications center. Upon entering the communications center, all the soldiers in the room stood at attention, saluted the General, and yelled,

"Hail Leiter"

The General saluted them back and they all continued with work. He approached a soldier at the communications desk and told the soldier,

"Send a message out to aircraft carriers Frontier and Leiter saying that they are to attack the Austaina's oil rigs. After the attack they are to set a blockade around Ythereum's country."

"But sir we need a declaration of war-"

"DO IT!!!! The Leiter commands it! The Leiter knows what he is doing! Do you dare question the Leiter's orders?!? Do you want to be sent to a concentration camp with the rest of those scum?!?"

After hearing this, the soldier did as he was told. The ships were sent out, they carried out their orders, and did the Leiter's horrible task. There was no resistance (Due to Ythereum's poor military) against Handiyan which resulted in the total destruction of the oil rigs. Back at the capitol, the Leiter gave Ythereum a declaration of war but made it very clear that war against Austaina has not been started..... yet.

[Austiana]

International Hotel,
Ythereum

James sat at an elegant, polished dining table. He typed away on his laptop, unaware of the events that had just unfolded. He was typing a short memo to his brother, who owned a conglomerate of multinational corporations, operating mainly in San Medina.

One of his trusted assistants handed him a coffee, as the Ythereum sun began to dip below the horizon outside the window of the luxury penthouse.
"Thanks," James smiled, as he sipped on the drink and sent the memo to his brother's email address.

Suddenly, Damian appeared at the door, distraught. His face was white, as he delivered the horrible news.

"The construction of the oil rigs," Damian stammered as he collapsed on the couch, "They've been attacked!"

"By who?" James asked, as he stood up and faced Damian, "The Ythereums! I knew the Bei San was not to be trusted!"

Damian shook his head, "Nope," he said bluntly, as he turned on the television, where Handiyan State Television was announcing a declaration of war against Ythereum, and footage of the attack was shown on the screen. The Leiter also appeared on the television, shouting very stern words towards the Austianese and Ythereums alike.

"We need to get out of here!" Damian said, standing, "Pack your bags, have our jet ready on the tarmac, we need to get out of the country before Handiyan invades,"

James did as he was told. Another person came through the door, this time it was Mrs Garcia, a government representative. James and Damian were surprised to see her, she was not allowed to come up to their rooms, they preferred to remain on their own with their fellow elites.

"No we're not," Garcia announced, "They have set up a blockade, I'm afraid. If we even attempt to fly out of here they'll shoot us down. We're stuck here for now, let's just pray that Austiana sends help for the Ythereum people,"

"Who cares about the Ythereum people?" Damian spat, "They have not signed up to our oil deals, so why should our government help them? We've already lost millions of dollars from the attack of our oil rigs! Once this little dispute is over, we're headed back to Austiana! Surely we would be entitled to compensation from either the government of Austiana or the government of Ythereum, because they did nothing to stop such an attack! Ythereum is a wasteland, and it deserves nothing more!"

Garcia had already left the room, not wanting to hear anything more.

---

Ministry of Defense
Ania, Austiana
Brother Kiro had been escorted through the large building and into the Executive Offices on the 6th floor of the building. He entered a large, extravagant room. The carpet was a dark royal blue, with royal patterns that were difficult to distinguish. The walls were bordered with dark, polished wood and brown wallpaper stretched across the room. A large fireplace warmed up the room on the left, and a large window overlooking Capital Square stretched from the center of the room to the right wall.

A large, wooden desk was in the center of the room, and the Minister for Defense, Ronald Schmidt sat behind it.

"Welcome, my dear friend, I take it the leader of Ythereum sent you here?" Schmidt said, baring a very fake smile.

"Yes sir," Brother Kiro said, "I come here on very important matters. Ythereum is in a great deal of trouble, Handiyan threatens to wipe us off the face of the Earth,"

"Ah yes," Schmidt said, bored, "I hear you had to scrape one of your Ythereum diplomats off the face of the Earth!"

Schmidt laughed, but stopped when he realised Kiro was not amused. Brother Pello remained in a critical state in a private hospital in Ania.
An awkward silence came about, and Schmidt broke it a few moments later.

"This business with Handiyan is dangerous," Schmidt continued, "But you see, the President does not wish to start a war with a huge superpower. We could begin a nuclear war, millions could die. We're not going to risk that. I have also heard reports that Ythereum people have not acted kindly to Austianese operations in the area, so we see no reason as to why we should help you at all,"

"You do not understand sir," Kiro began, "My people have been blockaded. Deportation of my people continue, and we are soon to be invaded,"

"I fully understand that," Schmidt went into his desk draw and revealed a document, "However, we are willing to speak with the government of Handiyan and try our hardest to remove the blockade and stop an invasion if you agree to the following terms,"

Brother Kiro hesitated, "What are these terms?"

"Well," Schmidt smiled, "Access to the oil in the Murakai Province and all deported Ythereum people must serve in the Austianese military,"

Brother Kiro thought for a moment.

"So, what do you say?"

[ManUtd CR7]

The Political headquarters of the Greater Manchester Party
TIME : 1:25 A.M. McST(ManUtd CR7 Standard Time)
The Prime Minister(PM) of ManUtd CR7 Rana Ronaldo offers his trusted and most intelligent ministers a seat. The miniister look at the Prime Minister with great aprehension as they all are not quite sure why the PM had called them at such an unusual hour. The highly experienced minister of external affairs Mr. James Giggs rises and asks the PM -- "Mr. Prime Minister,Why have you called us in this highly unusual hour. Is it some matter of concern ?" He sits down waiting for the PM to speak.
The PM said -- " We have found a very favorable moment to boost our recently flailing economy. I have been informed by a very trusted source that Handiyan is preparing too wage a war with Ythereum and on the Austiana oil base in Ythereum. This is a very usefull moment as we can help Ytthereum int the war and in exchange we may ask for a very low price of Oil from the government of Ythereum. This is a situation that may play to our strengths and we have to sieze it."
The ministers had always admired the farsightedness of PM Rana Ronaldo but this time he really had outwitted himself. The military of ManUtd CR7 can help in the war against Handiyan and also have huge benefits to the economy of the country.

[Rendaria]

Fort Soban
Fort Soban is the training academy of the elite in the Rendari Army. Kiith Soban runs the academy, which trains both its soldiers and the best and brightest in the Rendari Army. Amongst the high walls, dark buildings, and deep structures of stone and reinforced concrete, Grey, Black, and Red flags cover the walls. Today dark rain clouds poured their essence onto the grounds, the sound of rain striking the walls and roofs of the grey concrete surrounded the air, mixing with the sounds of gunfire in the distance and soldier's boots falling in time and double-time with the sound of cadence. The only truly martial kiith, Sobani warriors forgo all other bonds in order to be truly professional soldiers. They are thus few in number and extremely prized for their abilities.

Despite the near-permanent contract Kiith Soban was under with the Rendari Government in order to train their soldiers at the special warfare academy, they were still a private entity, free to make their own decisions. Today, the Kiith-sa of Soban would make one that would have a long-lasting impact in the region.

The office of the Kiith-Sa was one of a timeless conqueror; the almost black and charred wood that lined the walls contrasted with the red carpet along the floor and white ceiling that was vaulted in a dome nearly some twenty feet above. The red carpet along the floor was stained with numerous lines leading this way and that, all in a geometric shape that seemed to outline paths to walk on not unlike a sidewalk, symmetrically tracing the outline of the room as they wove around. The black wood walls were covered in various canvas paintings of previous kiith-sa, while the ceiling was painted with all the intricacies of the Sistine Chapel displayed battles hard-won for all who would gaze upward. The Kiith-sa of Soban, Ferin Sha, sat behind a large wooden desk made of the same material as the walls, the desk a shape not unlike that of what a panel of judges would sit behind at a trial, elevated above the rest of the room.

Ferin Sha Soban was a tall man, approximately six foot six in height, and a grisly two-hundred twenty pounds of muscle, hardened by training and war alike. Although in his late forties, his face bore the scars of a man in his fifties, and his body was toned and strong like he was twenty, an odd combination that, along side his attitude toward leadership and training, gave him a fierce reputation. Today he was wearing his battle dress black uniform, as was customary every Friday as he read over training reports, and received his monthly finance briefing; the kiith-sa of Soban was as fierce as he was cunning.

An aide also wearing the battle dress black uniform knocked sharply on the tall, golden french-style doors to his office, a picture of his face illuminating across one of the screens at the Major General's desk, then a few seconds later asked confidently: "Permission to enter, Sir."

"Enter," Ferin Sha replied sternly over the intercom, his gaze falling back to the report that lay in front of him. The aide executed a right face after making a bee line for his desk, holding a file sealed in a metal clip-board. "State your business," he said.

The aide saluted sharply as he said, "I have an intelligence report intercepted from the Rendari Army detailing a possible conflict in the nation of Ythereum Sir."

"Leave it there," Ferin Sha replied in an even tone, pointing casually to the end of his desk, as he stood up and saluted the soldier, both dropping their hands to their sides at the same time.

The aide promptly did just that, leaving the office while closing the doors quickly behind him. The Kiith-sa of Soban walked over to the end of his desk and opened the file, the papers bearing the mark of the Rendari Army along with "TOP SERCRET - TSI" at the top and bottom of each page in red ink. The file had several dossiers of all the important people in the conflict, as well as a factfile on all the powers that could potentially be involved. After reading all of the files over the course of a few hours, the General then sent out two messages from his computer: One to Operational Detachment Alpha, Special Forces, And one to the Ben Sai of Ythereum.

The message to ODA made mention of mobilization by submarine for amphibious entry into a remote and defenseless mountain nation in order to train civilians to be warriors; the message to the Bai San said simply this:

You are in need of the services of a warrior, we will have a secure line up for video in one hour.

[Ythereum]

Ministry of Defense
Ania, Austiana

Brother Kiro stared at the Minister of Defense. He had expected they would want access to the oil, and the Bei San was ready to grant it, in exchange for the greater security of the nation. But selling almost a million Children of Ythur into indentured servitude? Even the divine Bei San had failed to forsee the demand.

"I'm afraid...that decision surpasses the authority I've been granted. I must ask for directions, I must contact -"

"Nonsense!" Schmidt snapped. He rose from behind his polished desk and crossed the room to the fireplace. "We are prepared to offer our assistance immediately, provided you accept immediately." He dangled the document over the flames.

"But..." Kiro thoughts were scrambled. He had to buy time, he had to think. "But that's tens of thousands of people!"

"We know... we are planning for large growth in our civil services. Where else will they go? If they remain in Handiyan, they face the horrors of the concentration camps- or immediate execution, depending on the mood the Leiter is in that day. You can't possibly accommodate them, your godforsaken land can barely support your population as it is. If you took them in, your population would almost double- how could you take care of them? And they aren't Ytherian citizens, anyways. Their only crime is following the religion of the Bei San.

"But what of the women? The children? The aged? Who knows how many of the refuges are actually fit for military service?"

"Relax. Those who can't fight will have other assignment. We need clerks, messengers, drivers, carpenters... a growing empire needs a big workforce. All of them have jobs, and homes. And be well-fed. More than you could provide...especially with the blockade still on. But! Enough dallying. Make your decision...Brother."

Kiro closed his eyes, his heart pounding. In the few years since his divine discovery, the Bei San had praised creativity and initiative. Those who made smart decisions, those not afraid to go it alone, were rewarded. Those trapped in the old ways were sent into early retirement. He and Milo had played in the mud together as boys, They'd even competed for the attention of the same girls, before they'd taken their vows and joined the order.

Ythur, guide me, he whimpered.

Milo- the Bei San, would understand. He had failed to raise an army. It was the only way. He'd resign, he'd enter exile if he must. But Ythereum would be protected. If the refuges came to Ythereum, who knows if they could find enough food and housing, especially for winter. It really was the only way. Ythereum would be safe. The refuges would be taken care of.

"I accept," Kiro said, trembling. Schmidt slapped him on the back and lead him to a writing table to sign the compact. Kiro's hands were shaking so badly, his signature was illegible.

"I'm sorry," Kiro whispered.

"Don't worry," Schmidt said softly. "I have spares."

Palace of the Bei San
Ythereum

The Bei San sat alone in his sparse chamber. Though it was only two months ago, he had visibly aged since his meeting with the Austianese executives. Deep stress lines emanated from his jaw and eyes. Dark bags were etched under his eyes, painted there by the long, stressful days and sleepless nights.

The most noticeable change, though, was the lack of confidence. The brash young man who had sparred with Damian that day was gone. He'd become so weary. The socioeconomic pressures of blockade and the threat of invasion were weighing heavily on the ruler. The cashflow from the Austianese rigs had dried up, and he had tens of millions of dollars of unused military equipment yet to pay for. The news that Austiana would come to their aid was little consolation- he'd sold out almost a million of faithful Bar-Ythur, almost a million of his faithful children.

On top of it all, he had received news of Kiro's suicide two days ago. The Bei San was sincerely troubled his friend had thought himself irredeemable. The Bei San would have done the same thing, and he wished Kiro had known that. The loss of a friend is always a trial, and heads of state have so few friends they can trust to begin with.

Miles away, deep in a coma, Brother Pello had slipped away the same afternoon that Kiro had hanged himself in the parlour of his Ania hotel suite. Like the Austianese, fate apparently believed in compounded returns. Both bodies were to be flown back, to be buried in a place of honor in the Grand Labyrinth.

Enraged by grief and worry, steeled with the resolve of self-assured divinity, and prodded by necessity, the Bei San was ready to fight back to the forces that had been deciding the fate of his people. He was ready to break the rules.

He stared intently into his laptop''s screen. On the other end of the video link was Ferin Sha, the Kiith-sa of Soban. The Kiith-Sa's offer came like a hammer blow. If they had only connected a few days sooner, there would have been no need to partner with the Austianese. Thousands of Bar-Ythur would not be in boot camp, learning to kill or die for their new masters. Brother Kiro would still be alive, as well as thousands of Bar-Ythur who perished during their brutal eviction from Handiyan.

After signing the compact with Austiana, the Bei San had been formally forbidden from raising his own army. He was now nogotiating with Ferin Sha to train an elite, secret force of Ytherian volunteers. They were to be headquartered at the remote Cloud Forest Temple, far from prying Austinese eyes.

"Major General, I thank you again for working with us. I have reviewed your order of battle and your performance in past engagements, and I must commend you on the discipline and skill your troops posses. A Rendari-trained corps will truly be an asset to my nation.

Ferin Sha merely grunted in reply. In his position, he'd become overused to compliments.

"I will make arrangements for your detachment to be met as they enter our borders. I would take it as a personal favor if you saw fit that every man, from commanding officer to the lowest trooper, knows the full value that discretion has to this endeavor."

"Of course," Ferin Sha growled. "Are we done here?"

"Nearly. Other than your training an Ytherian armed corps, I wish to purchase an option on your future services."

Ferin Sha frowned. "An option?"

"You are most likely aware that I have entered into a pact with Austiana. At the time, your offer had no arrived; it was the only choice to ensure the survival of my people. However, I am certain that this pact will become more advantageous for them, and less for us, as time passes. I wish to ensure my ability to renegotiate the terms of our agreement."

"You want us to be on call to fight for you when you reneg from your blood pact," Ferin Sha spat as if the words "on call" were venomous themselves, "and they come after you."

"We are prepared to pay you, in cash, hundred and fifty million Austianan dollars, for you to do absolutely nothing. All you have to do is keep your forces available for us, if and when we need them. If we choose to exercise our option, you will be paid the sum of 500 million Austianese dollars, plus a negotiable performance-based bonus."

Mustering all the serenity he had left, the Bei San gazed into the camera.

"General?"

[Rendaria]

Fort Soban, Office of the Soban-Sa

Ferin Sha looked around the room at his trusted advisers, most of whom he had personally mentored over the years. All of their gazes were locked onto him. Normally, contracts are negotiated on a time-scale, thus leaving the advantage to the Sobani. Entangling contracts like these often lead to entangling situations. After thinking long, and hard about the terms, and against his better judgement in seeing the need the Bai San had for his men -- not to mention he the money -- he said this:

"Agreed, except you will pay an additional sum of two-million for each man I lose, should there be any on the option. That is how much it costs to train them. I will dispatch three squads of ODA. They will arrive in your waters in five days under the cover of darkness. Make sure they have a welcoming party prepared to haul away 27 men and all the supplies they shall bring. In order to arm your soon to be trained warriors, I shall arrange for a submarine to take the men to you, as well as the supplies. Make sure to be at the coordinates specified in five days, Bei San..and bring boats."

After that, he promptly cut the transmission.

He looked around at the men that surrounded him, gazing into each of their eyes, theirs meeting his. After seeing them all waiting for his next order, he did just so.

"Colonel Radec," the General said.

"Yes sir?" Radec replied, in his sharp and vicious tone, his words seemingly trying to escape the grasp of his mouth as quickly as possible while still having perfect intonation.

"See to it the men are prepared, briefed, and settled into their transportation," Ferin Sha sternly.

"Right away sir," Colonel Radec replied, both men quickly saluting each other in custom as Radec quickly turned and exited the room.

"Lieutenant Colonel Visinair," Ferin Sha snapped.

"Yes my sa?" Visinair replied comely.

"Ensure that one of our Legacy-class submarines is fit for the task, our men will need to depart tonight with all haste," the General replied back.

"Yes sir," Visinair replied, performing the same salute and leaving.

"Major Hakka!" Ferin Sha said.

"Yes sir?!" the Major said, his back standing straight up along with the hair on his neck.

"Ensure that the armory accommodates as much as the submarine can hold. After all, they are only going to bring twelve days worth of food. That should free up plenty of room in the freezers for more weapons... Also make sure that they only bring 12 torpedoes to free up room in the torpedo room as well," Ferin Sha replied.

"Yes sir, right away sir!" he nearly shouted as he saluted and almost ran out of the room. It was going to be a busy night.

Naval Base Ophion, Sub Pen Charlie, 12 hours later

The Sobani maintained a small sub pen at Naval Station Ophion for such occasions, rented from the Rendari Navy. One of the Legacy-class submarines -- the "Akula" -- was bustling with activity. Sobani sailors were running this way and that in an organized mess moving bags, men and materiel onto the ship for its voyage. Shouts could be heard all around as cranes lowered supplies by the ship, men carrying as much as their arms could hold and passing them along in a chain down into the hull of the black vessel. At first, the stocked the normal items -- maps, food, cookware, packed bags of the ship's sailors -- then a strange look came over most of their faces as they started to pack other things inside the ship -- rifles, pistols, rocket launchers, machine guns, grenades, and massive amounts of ammunition and the like all started funneling into the vessel. Luckily Major Hakka was there, shouting orders of where the unorthodox cargo was to go, and the line of men quickly resumed their duties.

On a small platform beside the vessel, 27 men sat upon chairs placed in front of a screen which had been wheeled out onto the bay, its power cord snaking back into an unknown room, changing colors as the various extension cords plugged into it wound ever back and out of sight. Standing beside the large television were two men; Captain Markov, the Captain of the Akula and Colonel Radec.

"Your job," Colonel Radec began as the screen turned on, "Will be to infiltrate past all naval defenses currently in place around Ythereum, and then board civilian watercraft to be provided by the Ythereum government at this location," he said, a pointer in his hand clicking lightly on the screen. "Once there, they will take you to the remote Cloud Forest Temple, located here," he said, another click on the screen of his pointer. "After that," he continued, "You will train as many men as well as possible in order to form the core unit of what will be elite Ythereum resistance fighters who will, with your assistance, repel and resist any invasion efforts that the Handiyan or eventually the Autenianese military might throw at them. It is imperative," he said loudly but not yelling, "that your efforts go unnoticed by the world at large, as the Ythereum government is forbidden from raising a military. Is that understood?"

"Sir Yes Sir!" the 27 men in seats said simultaneously, all of them standing up in time and saluting as they did.

"Then move out," Colonel Radec said, returning their salute and then turning his attention to Captain Akula as the men filed into the bowels of the submarine before them, interrupting the chain of weapons being passed inside. "It is essential that these men move as many supplies as possible as covertly as possible. Can you do this Captain?"

The Captain's neck straightened up at those words. To question the abilities of a Sobani sailor was to question if Poseidon controlled the waves. "Of course," he replied with a grin creeping across his face.

"Good, then move out," Radec replied.

"Captain Markov simply turned away and walked toward the hatch on his ship yelling "Hurry up men, we leave port in one hour!"

58 Minutes Later

The Akula submerged slowly as it exited the sub pen at approximately five knots. The only evidence that a submarine had even left the pen was that of the doors opening up for two minutes, and then closing again as a gentle surface wake threaded from the pen. The vessel moved through the harbor unannounced, dodging military and civilian shipping alike as it plunged ever deeper for true blue seas unnanounced. Once out in open waters, the Akula began to submerge to 1200 feet, plotting a course south to the Yural Gulf.

Aboard the conning tower of the Akula

The submarine was ablaze with activity, as lights and men flicked this way and that. It seemed weapons were everywhere -- some had even had to be stored in the conning tower, stuffed in every nook and cranny -- as the vessel made its way ever south. Captain Markov surveyed the men, equipment, and task before him, his eyes looking around in one slow arc. He did not find anything or anyone wanting. "Helm," he said comely.

"Yes sir," the helmsman replied in a deep and gruff tone that matched his large but leathery features.

"Plot a course for Ythereum territorial waters at these coordinates," he said handing him a slip of paper. "Depth set at Sonic Layer Depth plus 200 feet the whole way, passive sensor suite to maintain."

"Yes sir," the helmsman replied confidently, nodding as he turned to the team of men that navigated and piloted the ship. Helmsman Jet Black Soban handed the slip of paper to the navigator, who quickly went to work tapping at keys on his console. Shortly thereafter, Helmsman Black shouted out, "Course two-zero-eight Depth one-six-zero-zero feet Speed four-zero knots," while the planesman quickly steered the ship to the proper azimuth and depth, repeating what he had just heard as the ship's thermal driving head increased in activity, silently moving the ship forward at an increasing rate. The Akula was on its way.

[ManUtd CR7]

Prime Minister's Office
Time : 10:30 p.m. McST(ManUtd CR7 Standard Time)
The trusted and loyal secretary of the Prime Minister Gareth Scholes enters.
"Sir, we had established contact with Bei San of Ythereum, and though he is not very eager with the second part of deal we aproached with of getting cheap oil in return he was very keen to get military help from us and hence we may send the military troup of ManUtd CR7 to the desired location of Bei San which is near the Austiana Oil Base."
"That is good news Mr. Scholes but I recommend you send the best troup we have that is the Robin Troup to Ythereum as we need to make a very positive impact on Bei San's mind. I also hear that Bei San has agreed to get help from the Rendaria's Special Ops force and hence send a large troup of about 5000 Robin Persies (the best army of ManUtd CR7) quickly within the next 2 days to Ythereum. I hope you understand what I ask of you. Also organize a meeting of mine with the Defence minister (Mr. Harry Vidic) tomorrow."
"I get it Prime Minister Sir, it will be done."
The time has come to act and no one knows that better than the PM. He has to make this effort and idea of this work to ensure his second term in the government. This is the Ideal oppurtunity.

[Austiana]

Ministry of Defence
ANIA, Austiana

The Ministy's Conference room was packed with 60 generals, and top official including the Vice President, who watched quietly from the door.

"We're going to have to blow our way through the Handiyan blockade," General Moroni of the Eastern Naval Division said reluctantly, "Get to Ythereum and supply them with their needed defensive forces. We can carry about 60 000 soldiers to Ytherum on our fleet, and if needed we can move an additional 40 000 on the secondary supply ships that we follow through afterwards,"

"Actually," Minister Schmidt interrupted, "We can only carry about 45 000 soldiers on the first fleet, we need a large amount of space on ANS Cruiser for pieces of our pipeline and rigging equipment,"

"But Minister" General Moroni stood up, confused, "This is a military operation, not an oil operation! By reducing the number of troops you are risking the safety and stability of that fleet. We need those men, otherwise the entire mission could be a complete failure,"

Schmidt also stood up, facing Moroni from the opposite side of the large, wooden conference table. The room went silent.

"I would advise you, General Moroni, to be proactive. Otherwise, you may no longer keep those four stars on your suit and our General Status,"
Schmidt smiled to the rest of the faces in the room, as Moroni shrunk into his seat, "Now, gentleman, prepare to disembark the Naval Fleet. According to my estimates, we shall arrive at the blockade within a week, and with luck on our side we shall arrive in Ythereum in two!"

Austianese Naval Fleet,
Macendaz Ocean

26 Hours after fleet disembarked from Austiana

Captain Raymond Deakon, a Naval war hero from the Golden Gong Conflict nearly 20 years ago, stood confidently on the bridge on ANS Sheppard, one of Austiana's four Nmitz Class Air Craft Carriers.

He looked out the large window, overlooking the tarmac of his ship and the huge, grey ocean that stretched ahead of him. He could see four battleships in front of him, and three smaller frigates. It was a cold day, overcast and the ocean was choppy. All officers and soldiers on the fleet were nervous, as they had to fight against the utterly ruthless and powerful Handiyan Army.

"Sir, this came in from Ania," brigadier Thompson said, as he handed a telegram to the Captain.

"Thank you Thompson," Captain Deakon smiled as he grabbed the telegram and read it.

It was a short memo from the Ministry of Defence, reiterating the dangers that they may face. Handiyan had continued to make threats last night, as they found out the Austianese plans for military intervention. It would a long voyage, however the memo also requested for the fleet to be alert, as Handiyan may launch attacks prior to the fleet making it to the Yural Gulf.

Captain Deakon pulled out his cigarette lighter and burnt the memo, as per military protocol.

[The Handiyan Empire]

General Thompson stormed into the Leiter's office, delivering daunting news to his leader.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion," The Leiter asked, as he looked up from his computer screen, "It better be important!"
Thompson nodded his head, he was panting, as he had ran from the other side of the National Capitol.
"Austiana..." Thompson pants, "Has... declared war, and has sent a Naval Fleet to intercept,"

The Leiter stood up slowly, in a state of shock. He strongly believed Austiana would stay away, not wanting to risk a war. There was mounting pressure against Handiyan. Alongside Rendaria, Manchester United and Ythereum, it seems Austiana's support would turn it all against Handiyan.

"Issue a fiery statement," The Leiter exclaimed, moving out from behind his desk, "Tell Austiana and the rest of the world, that if they come within 200 km of Handiyan, the Yural Gulf or Ythereum, we will launch a full strike on their fleet and a declaration of war will be made. Also, get all Senior Generals, we must plan a full invasion of Ythereum,"

Thompson slowly shook his head.

"Send a small group of F97 UAVs to monitor the fleet, and..." The Leiter thought for a moment, "... An hour after we have reconnaissance, send 20 Panzi N16 Bombers, with 10 F/A18 Fighters, lets shake them up a bit!"

[ManUtd CR7]

Post deleted.

[Austiana]

OOC: Disregard the above post, it is out of place, but may be posted at a later date

---

Austianese Naval Fleet
Eastern Macendaz Ocean

3 days after fleet disembarked from Austiana

There were clear skies and a calm ocean as the formidable Austianese fleet cruised through the waters of the Macendaz. Captain Deakon scanned the horizon after receiving a short, hurried mayday call from two Lockheed U-2 aircraft on reconnaissance 30 km east of the fleet's position. Immediately afterwards, a small group of aircraft had been spotted on radar. Immediately, 10 F-35 Lightning fighter jets were scrambled from ANS Sheppard to intercept the fast approaching squadron of 4 unidentified aircraft.

Squadron Leader Rick Jackson, a veteran from the South Golden Gong dispute two years ago, observed the clouds as he lead his squadron closer towards the target. On the horizon, he spotted four aircraft.

"Bravo and Charlie, follow me, everyone else keep a constant speed and altitude and stay away from targets, over," Jackson spoke calmly, as his voice was heard across all other 9 cockpits. The three jets at the front of the pack left formation and sped closer towards the four unknown aircraft.

Meanwhile, Captain Deakon radioed to the cockpit of Squadron Leader Jackson.
"Alpha F-35 Lightning, try and make communication with the approaching air craft, over,"

Jackson acknowledged the order and began attempting to order the group of unidentified aircraft to identify themselves and turn back. However, there was no reply, and the jets continued forward.

The Austianese Aircraft approached the planes, soon realizing they were Handiyan surveillance craft. The three F-35s flew 40 meters above the aircraft, while communication between the enemies was very little.

"... Handiyan surveillance aircraft, if you do not respond we will shoot you down," Jackson said, under the direct orders of Captain Deakon, who was getting more and more nervous as the aircraft approached.

The Handiyan aircraft turned to the North, while remaining under the careful escort of the Austianese F-35s.