NATION

PASSWORD

Soldiers of a Neverending War (Closed: Graphic Content)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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The Kraven Corporation
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Founded: Apr 24, 2005
Psychotic Dictatorship

Soldiers of a Neverending War (Closed: Graphic Content)

Postby The Kraven Corporation » Sat Dec 14, 2013 1:51 pm

Soldiers of a Neverending War.


It always happens in cycles, without fail, The Reich drifts into a lazy slumber, its Macrofoundries slow to an almost dead stop, its machines stop their incessant grinding, momentarily bodies are no longer churned up, as though for a brief moment in time, every civilian in The Reich breathes a small sigh of relief, only for a moment though, during this slow down, The Reich steps up its crackdowns, entire city blocks are eradicated for perceived thought crimes, women are rounded up in their droves and sent into deep underground facilities to create the next batch of super soldiers, the sigh of relief breathed collectively by everyone is only ever a short lived one, months or years may pass with constant raids, everyone in fear of their lives, extermination squads roving the streets exterminating anyone found out in the streets, then it stops, as quickly as it starts, it stops, the endless killing stops, the butchery ends, but people know that its just the next moment in the cycle of life within The Reich...

Nations around the globe know what to look for, they watch constantly, everyone has at least one satellite pointed towards South Western Gholgoth, The Fortress Continent, Fortress Norska to be specific, they watch for specific signs that the cycle of perpetual warfare is about to enter its next phase, they watch with fearful eyes, operators at consoles praying each day that this will not be the one where they see the specific signs they have been trained to watch...

The First sign of the cycle are the Deathships....

Deathships are The Reich's prisoner transports, nicknamed so because the majority of prisoners die in transport and that anyone sentenced by their Government to deportation on a Deathship knows exactly what fate lies in store for them, old supertankers converted to hold prisoners sail around the globe collecting for want of a better word, sacrifices in an effort to forestall a Kravenite Invasion, these prisoners are willingly handed over for the Reich to use as they see fit, this is the first sign, when Deathships are put to sea, it means The Reich is gearing up its Macrofoundries for production, then months may pass before the next sign...

Smoke...

Once the Deathships have returned with their forlorn cargoes, the smoke starts, billowing black clouds will rise from the multitude of foundries that cover the Fortress Continent, when the smoke rises, production has moved into full swing, a war footing, they are replenishing their stocks, their tanks, their ammunition, their aircraft, this is the moment when Governments start to panic, they now know that the Cycle has entered its second phase and soon a Resource Fleet may be dispatched, no one will know where it is heading until it is almost on the doorstep.. but even then that might not mean you are its target, the third sign is Troop Movements....

Vast numbers of Capitol Police Battalions will suddenly start moving around Fortress Norska, new Battalions will be raised from the fresh batch of troops that were made during the lull in the cycle, swelling the Military Arm into an Invasion Footing, this is usually when Governments stop watching and prepare for the possibility of an Invasion, this is the cycle that dominates life in The Reich, it is the cycle that puts fear into the hearts of men and into the hearts of Governments... and This cycle had just reached its last phase...


Invasion.


Southern Coast of Fortress Norska.
05:00 Hours Standard Imperial Time.


The Rail Artillery was moved into place by slaves, thousands of bedraggled men, women and children hauled the gigantic piece of artillery into place along a hastily constructed piece of railroad, they held onto long pieces of cable that was connected to the chassis of the immense weapon, a couple of hundred yards further down the coastline a second and third artillery piece was being moved into place, the voices of thousands of slaves crying out in pain rose into the early morning air, the sun rising slowly in the distance cast a gloomy twilight over the seen as Capitol Police Troopers lashed the slaves with a long bull whip ensuring they did not falter in their task, Officers stood around a black armoured eight wheeled APC, watching with cold indifference to the suffering of all these slaves..

A black gloved hand silently rose up, ordering the slaves to stop, they had reached the correct positioning for the Artillery piece, for a the moment their task done, the slaves breathed easy, they stretched, rubbed their sore and bloody hands, others simply collapsed only to meet their end at the hands of a Capitol Police sidearm, the cannon was lowered from its resting position and into a loading position, The Capitol Police gunners wearing long black trenchcoats stood ready as dozens of slaves now pulled long chains, hauling the eight ton shell up onto the loading slide, then once in position, yet more slaves slid the shell into the breach which was then closed by an automated arm, the Capitol Police then moved the immense weapon into a firing position, the Slaves ran from the loading area and ducked down, covering their ears as a klaxon now sounded, the Capitol Police took their positions and watched silently, as one of them pulled the firing cord...

Time seemed to slow to almost a snails crawl, the gigantic cannon recoiled as the huge shell was launched from the barrel, the recoil caused dust and debris around the firing position to visibly move, some slaves were knocked to the floor, while others clutched their ears in pain at the deafening roar of the Heavy Artillery piece, time caught back up as the recoil now subsided and the cannon was moved back into a loading position, with a crack of the bullwhip, the slaves began hauling another shell into position, most of them were screaming as they pulled the chains with bloodied hands, some of their ears were bleeding, while others were dragged away and shot for showing signs of slowing...

Other Heavy Artillery pieces now opened up, their distinct reports being carried over the morning air, the people of the former Milogradian Island would have little clue what was about to hit them so early in the morning, However those with eyes on South Western Ghologth would easily see what was unfolding before them and the report from The Heavy Rail Road Artillery would give them no doubt as to who exactly was their target...
Last edited by The Kraven Corporation on Wed Dec 18, 2013 2:58 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"If you want a vision of the future, Winston, imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever." - 1984
Scand: No one beats you Kraven for largest number killed a day.
Scand: Your nation is a glorified death camp after all.
Tiurabo: WTF Kraven.
Tiurabo: You are the last person who can tell me to be calm.
Tiurabo: You're a goddam psycho.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wT0uR5wB76M The Updated National Anthem of Imperial Fortress Reich
Resistance is Futile... We Are The Kraven Reich

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Havensky
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Civil Rights Lovefest

Fighting against a Neverending Nightmare

Postby Havensky » Sat Dec 14, 2013 4:00 pm

Crystal City, Havensky

Deep within the walls of the Crystal City, Lady Jessica Heart tossed and turned furiously in her sleep. Her nightgown soaked with sweat.

She was sat down in a chair in front of a metal desk with a single lamp on it, another man walked in, he was tall and imposing as the rest but wore a uniform of an officer whereas the others bore uniforms of what appeared to be of the Waffen KSP or the military arm of the Secret Police...

"What are you doing here?" the man asked, he was now sat opposite her, his hands tented together and resting his elbows on the desk...

"Jessica Heart... that is your name correct?" The man spoke again... the tone growing more menacing, but the volume never raised.

"What were you doing on a vessel over Kraven territorial areas?" the man continued.. she couldn't speak... she had been...violated... her instinct was to fight to fight to FIGHT ... but she was tied... so so tired of everything/


Baby, wake up...

"I am Reichmarshal Helghan... I am the head of the secret Police...."

Jessica shouted back at the man. "Dont mock me... you've been interrogating me every day now for three months..."


"Aaaahh... and theres that fire, I do so enjoy our conversations!"
Helghan sat back in his seat, he smiled and waved a hand...

Jessica wanted to scream at him again. Call him bastard. Call him depraved. Call him the evil narcissistic psychopath that he was.

The wall behind her began to drop slowly into the floor revealing a plexiglass screen and several people sat watching intently, they all wore scientist uniforms and most notably were not from Kraven...


Jessica.... JESSICA... Wake up!

"I've got a surprise for you..." Helghan spoke, waving another hand as several other officers wearing white coats walked in, they pushed in two trolleys one was the exact height of Jessica, or so she could gage, the other was a metal trolley that had an entire metal skeleton rested upon it, with each individual component to complete an entire human skeleton...

"That my dear" Helghan pointed towards the skeleton... "is going into you.." he tapped her hand with a finger... it was ice cold ... inhumanly cold... colder than any winter she'd ever experienced.


Quickly, the medical officers strapped her to the bed..she tried to resist, but her body wouldn't obey... something that they did to her... something wouldn't let her fight.

They cut into her fingers, she screamed...


JESSICA!

Jessica Heart woke up screaming... she swung her fist at the voice next to her, but he grabbed her.. and pulled her close to him... He was warm...

Breathing heavily, she blinked the tears away from her eyes and slowly came back to the waking world.. She was home. She was safe. The warm man was her husband Lucas, the father of her twin children, her rescuer from that terrible time so very long ago.

As she stopped thrashing she felt his arms move tighter around her.

It's ok, you're home...you're safe...it was just a dream.

Jessica shook her head, her long red hair shaking about. But it wasn't just a dream was it?

Her husband Lucas kissed her forehead, kind grey eyes closing just a moment. His short brown hair was showing just the slightest hints of grey. He rocked her back and forth.

It's getting worse isn't it?

Jessica shook her head again, I know what you're thinking... I don't want to send the High Council into a panic over one of my nightmares....empath or not.

You know what I'm thinking because we've been married for fifteen years. Not because of anything they did to you. And I don't think Sir Vincent is one to panic.

Years ago, when she had been captured by Kraven forces, the Reichmarshal had installed a powerful Kraven relay inside her skull. It was designed to control her, to force her to become one of Kraven's minions.. but it had backfired. When she was rescued, she not only could resist the implant but had turned it against it's master. She could hear the relay, control it, drive those connected to the Kraven relay mad with her concentrated will.

But that had been long ago. When the Kraven vanished, so had the pain and the power. However, the nightmares had returned. And those closest to her were worried it was a sign of things to come. That Kraven had once again picked up arms to wage war upon mankind.

Lady Jessica Heart: Heroine of Havensky - Secretary of State - Former Admiral of the White Humanitarian Fleet - Wife of Sir Ironheart - The Butcher's End, stood up from her bed and reached out with her titanium arm for her tablet - now blinking red with a message.

Lady Jessica, Sir Ironwing... Your presence is requested at the Palace..

Jessica's heart sank. It wasn't just nightmares. A summons at this time of night only meant one thing. Kraven had indeed returned.
Last edited by Havensky on Thu Dec 29, 2016 8:06 am, edited 3 times in total.

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Havensky
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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Havensky » Sat Dec 14, 2013 9:41 pm

Fourhearts Palace
Crystal City, Havensky


All the major government officials were within walking distance of the palace and so Lady Jessica and Sir Ironwing choose to simply walk to the Palace. They walked down the lane escorted by their normal guard of six, plus the palace had sent over an additional six guards.

Jessica had been assigned escorts ever since she had been rescued despite her regular protests. But given her importance, it wasn't unimaginable that she would be a target.

The pair were wearing their dress uniforms, dark black with red stripes down the sides. Both had white sashes across the front showing their knighted status. They were both quiet, lost in their own thoughts.

For Lucas Ironwing, his thoughts were turned to his students at the Havensky Military Academy. After the birth of their children, Lucas had resigned his commission and was hired at the academy to teach military leadership. It sounded like a vague and broad subject, but he had taught a special class to officer candidates in the Legion about advanced special tactics. Lucas didn't teach any particular tactic, but how to think on their feet and train their subordinates to be clever and tricky. Too many of their potential foes all tried to get their soldiers in lock step. They thought too much alike. Skyan officers needed to be creative. To take initiative. They'd need this line of thinking in the coming months.

Lucas was also concerned for his wife. It had been a constant battle against post traumatic stress syndrome. With time, it had been better. However, in the last few weeks it had gotten worse. He worried that it may mean the relay had activated again, and it turned out he was right.

They were escorted inside and to a conference room on the top floor. The room had mahogany panels and a vast plexiglass screen that took the space of the entire back wall. On the screen was a map of the Gholgoth, red lines drawn to indicate the Kraven positions.

In front of the screen was a large glass round table - with digital information placed at the fingertips of those at the table. Several maps of Skyan fleet locations, potential Kraven targets, and the latest intel report all displayed on the screen. At the table sat High Executor Vincent Profecta, Sky Marshal Markus Titan, Prime Minister Elizabeth Artemis, and King Drake.

The pair bowed upon seeing the King, who beckoned them to sit. The King was dressed in a simple suit with no tie as the hour was late. The military officer was of course dressed in full uniform. Profecta was in a plain white shirt, and Elizabeth in sweatpants and her college hoodie. The Prime Minister had the farthest to travel, with the Senate being in session, had rolled straight from bed to make the meeting. Nobody judged with it being two in the morning.

Thank you for coming at so late an hour. Please, we have much to discuss. Would you like some coffee?.

Jessica nodded as she sat down in the seat pulled out for her by Lucas. Drake may be King, but he had never put on airs preferring to be a man of the people. The King poured two cups while Titan gave his report.

Kraven forces began to launch heavy shells fired from artillery pieces pulled by rail. Thier current interest appears to be a regional conflict.

Jessica turned to the High Admiral, I thought that the Gothic Lords had some kind of alliance and wouldn't fight the other... not that it hasn't happened before... Wait.. how long have you been watching Gholgoth?

Titus swallowed hard, Six months m'lady

Lucas stood his face turning red, Six months? And you're just now telling us? Jessica's been having nightmares for months! We thought it was a relapse ... not to mention all the work that she could have been doing to prepare! How dare you keep this from-

That's enough Sir Lucas..
interrupted High Executor Vincent Profecta. Need I remind you whose company you now address?

King Drake raised a hand, Now, now - Lucas has a right to be angry, as does Jessica. We've kept them in the dark long enough. It was my idea. We needed to know if the relay was still active. The doctors felt that if you knew of the activity, you would suppress the connection. We needed to verify it independently. Now that you know, we can get to work on our response. You'll have to forgive me. I didn't want to frighten you.

A determined look crossed her face, I am many things. Frightened is not one of them. Gentleman, I have nightmares - not cancer. And if anyone doubts my willingness to fight they better speak now. Otherwise, I do not want another word of it spoken.

The prime minister smiled, There is no doubt m'lady. I was going to request your help on that front. The isolationist party will certainly object to a humanitarian mission. I will began rallying support, but without a credible threat they won't budge. I still feel we will have the votes, but a statement of support would go a long way.

A courier entered the room and dropped a slip of paper to the King, High Executor, and Prime Minister. The King read it passing a note to Jessica and Lucas.

Kraven Officer spotted in Port Pravoka. Asked for information on *Miss* Jessica Heart. Threatened port via Destroyer barrage. Kraven forces then withdrew. Please advise on further action.


The High Executor spoke again, Votes or not. I want Lady Heart's guard doubled. If Kraven is sending these messages then they clearly have not forgotten. Admiral: Have the humanitarian and expeditionary fleets begin consolidating. If we go, we'll go full force.

The King read the message again, It's interesting that they refer to Lady Jessica as *Miss* Jessica.. as if time has frozen and she is still a nurse instead of married, knighted, and a very important member of High Command. As if Jessica is some kind of computer bug that the Kraven AI keeps trying to figure out.

In that case,, said the High Executor Let's double Sir Lucas' guard as well. They certainly wouldn't have forgotten who closed the Butcher's shop.

Lucas grimaced. During the rescue, long before he had married Jessica, he had fought one of Kraven's lead scientists. The Butcher they had called him and his work included experiments beyond humankind. He had ended his life, destroyed the facility. He always felt guilty for not being able to save more. Instead, he had ended not only the Butcher's life - but those he had hooked up to machines. Doctors had told him that they were already dead - in a sort of vegetative state. He never felt great about it. The King had knighted him for that. His students called him "The Butcher's End" as a token of respect. He didn't really like the term.

Of course, can I tell my students? I imagine they'll get orders if worst comes to worst.

The High Executor nodded, Tell them, but keep them quiet. We don't want to go public just yet.
Last edited by Havensky on Thu Dec 29, 2016 8:09 am, edited 2 times in total.

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The Kraven Corporation
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Posts: 501
Founded: Apr 24, 2005
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby The Kraven Corporation » Sun Dec 15, 2013 6:47 am

The Black Citadel
Fortress Norska
05:00 Hours Standard Imperial Time


The Corridor was long, poorly lit and stank of death, these corridors were where the decisions to end lives were made, thousands upon thousands of people executed at a whim and a simple rubber stamp, that is how much The Reich valued the lives of ordinary people, nothing more than a bureaucratic rubber stamp. The group of Officers walked in unison, their footfalls perfectly timed, each carrying a dossier and another carrying a black briefcase, they talked as they walked...

"They will know we are looking for her by now, she will be aware of our presence.." one Officer spoke, maintaining his stride while talking..

"It is to be expected, once we have located her it will be a simple matter of extracting her" another added..

"The Imperial Research Division will be interested to see how she has progressed since she escaped" the conversation continued,

They all stopped for a moment, pausing in their step as though they were listening to something or someone giving them new information or instructions, then without warning they continued...

"She has been located, things have progressed faster than we expected, she is married and has children."

The most senior Officer of the group opened a large metal door halfway down the corridor and entered with the other Officers following...

"They will have increased her security no doubt with our re-awakening, dispatch Wolf Brigade units one through four, locate and extract the Husband and Children, this will bring her out into the open, then she will be ours... You have your orders, carry them out..."

The other Officers, saluted and responded with a cold, "By Your Command.." they then turned and left, returning to their duties and preparing to dispatch a Wolf Brigade strike force, The Command Relay was alive with activity, there was no doubt at all that this invasion of The Former Milogradian Island was a prelude to something else, but what it was, was still in question...
"If you want a vision of the future, Winston, imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever." - 1984
Scand: No one beats you Kraven for largest number killed a day.
Scand: Your nation is a glorified death camp after all.
Tiurabo: WTF Kraven.
Tiurabo: You are the last person who can tell me to be calm.
Tiurabo: You're a goddam psycho.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wT0uR5wB76M The Updated National Anthem of Imperial Fortress Reich
Resistance is Futile... We Are The Kraven Reich

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The Kraven Corporation
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Posts: 501
Founded: Apr 24, 2005
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby The Kraven Corporation » Sun Dec 15, 2013 9:44 am

Southern Coast of Fortress Norska

The Rail Artillery continued to pound, sending a multitude of shells soaring across the narrow straits between The Reich and Milograd, these shells were exploding in the coastal towns and cities, destroying buildings and reducing vast areas to nothing but rubble, slaves continued to haul more and more shells each ready to be fired, Officers stood watching readouts from Geosynchronous Satellites that gave them detailed information on where the shells were landing and were able to adjust trajectories accordingly, The High Command doubted that there would be any response from Milograd, its Government had abandoned its people long ago and the Island was effectively left to its own devices...

Above the Artillery platforms, the distinct formations of an Advanced Assault Force flew past, their engines being drowned out by the noise of Artillery fire below, once these craft had crossed the straits, the Artillery would cease firing and await further orders, once the Assault Force was on the ground they would systematically dismantle the peoples ability to resist Occupation, the lines of communication would be cut, hospitals would be demolished and centres of community would be turned into makeshift allows, giving the people no where to muster their resistance, people of importance, religious leaders would all be rounded up and executed, showing the people that no matter who they believed in or turned to, no one could save them now...

So far, The rest of Gholgoth had remained silent, no words of warning or condemnation, so far The Reich was operating with impunity, there was no Damien Dreadfire or Azrael to stop the invasion or attempt to bring calm, this was a full scale Invasion of Milograds former homelands, it's people would learn a whole new kind of suffering, put to work in horrific conditions to feed the Reich's Foundries until the next target could be found..

Once again, Dark Clouds rose over Gholgoth, fed by the fires of war and stoked by its Engineers... The Capitol Police...
"If you want a vision of the future, Winston, imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever." - 1984
Scand: No one beats you Kraven for largest number killed a day.
Scand: Your nation is a glorified death camp after all.
Tiurabo: WTF Kraven.
Tiurabo: You are the last person who can tell me to be calm.
Tiurabo: You're a goddam psycho.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wT0uR5wB76M The Updated National Anthem of Imperial Fortress Reich
Resistance is Futile... We Are The Kraven Reich

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Havensky
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Founded: Jan 01, 2008
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Havensky » Sun Dec 15, 2013 3:23 pm

HA!...clink..clink..CLANG!

Havensky Military Academy - Advanced Tactics Class
Crystal City, Havensky


Tycho Onyx raised his shield moments before the sharp end of Gavin Squall's sword thrust forward, throwing Gavin off a foot. Servomotors from the power armor whirred as Gavin quickly retreated. Tycho took the opportunity to make his own thrusting move which was quickly feinted by Gavin.

Behind them, Lucas Ironwing sat watching - saying nothing as his two students dueled. From his vantage point, the two students looked like white knights fighting it out. Power armor was a mashup between robotic augmentations and protective armor. On the outside, white kevlar with the Havensky Military Academy markings. On the inside, a robotic exoskeleton provided extra strength and endurance to the user's arms and legs. The back of the armor held the power source as well as storage container. The helmet was equipped with a thick bulletproof clear visor that doubled as a heads up display.

Tycho swung again causing Gavin to reverse again. If Gavin wasn't careful, he'd run out of maneuvering room. Ironwing was annoyed at the pair. Tycho was being too aggressive and Gavin too cautious.

Ironwing got up and picked up a sword. The next big swing Tycho took, he gracefully brought his sword up perpendicular to Tycho's causing it to fly from Tycho's hand and clash against the wall with a clang. Tycho's jaw dropped and Gavin froze long enough for Ironwing to turn his body and bring his sword down hard the shoulder of Gavin's power armor. Gavin's training armor buzzed, sending an unpleasant shock to Gavin.

Ouch!

Ironwing walked up to Tycho, then hit him on the back of the head with the sword sending a buzz to his head.

Oww!

Ironwing paced in front of the class before addressing the duelists. Gavin, you need to learn not to be so shy in exploiting the enemy weakness. Rope-a-dope is fine and dandy, but you let yourself get boxed into a corner. That only works when you can maneuver around without impediment. In real combat, they are supply lines - bases - and sometimes civilians that are behind you. Have to keep that in mind, I've told you this.

And Tycho, you're relying too much on the power armor. Yes, it's gives you greater strength, but not greater
control. You have to ignore the suit - otherwise you grow to depend on it too much. Gentlemen, this isn't basic Power Armor 101, this is Advanced Tactics. You are supposed to be squad leaders soon! You better believe your NCOs can tell when you're faking it.

Ironwing turned to the class, Does anyone remember why we have you carry weights around your ankles and wrists?

Tycho remarked with a grin, To get the muscles and the babes....

The class laughed, Ironwing turned to the pair and hit a button on the back of their power armor necks. The suit stopped it's hum as it powered down. The pair shoot each other a sideways glance.

Ironwing smiled, Front lean and rest positioooooooon... MOVE

Gavin and Tycho moved quickly into a pushup position. Ironwing turned back to the class.

UP, Gavin and Tycho moved to do the push-up staying in the up position with the extra weight of the armor weighing heavy on their backs. Ironwing continued, We have you wear weights to you become strong enough to move without power. So you control the suit, not the other way around. I know it's tempting to use the suit's power to do things that you wouldn't be able to do without it. Throw a hundred yard football pass with the same effort as throwing a scrap piece of paper. Sprinting five miles and not breaking a sweat. But the point isn't to make you supermen. The point is to allow you to operate in hostile conditions for longer periods of time safely because you are heavily armed, armored and connected with the battle network needed to win even if outnumbered.

Ironwing looked over at Gavin and Tycho.. so far they were managing. Down......UP!

I have some news that you must not share with anyone. The Kraven Corporation has begun active operations.


The class grew serious. Many of them were not old enough to remember the last war, but they had studied it plenty. They knew that the world was a more dangerous place with Kraven around. Some students relished the thought to go to battle against Kraven. Others nodded, taking in the weight of the news. A few appreciated the fact that they were being trusted with this information.

Ironwing continued, They have not ventured out of their region, but we must prepare for the possibility. That being the case, we are graduating you early at the Winter Ball instead of the normal Spring Commencement. Those who are failing their classes now, you'll stay behind. Otherwise, you'll be getting new units.

Remember, when you get assigned to our unit you have three jobs. The first is to protect your men. The second is to make them leaders, and the third to to accomplish your mission. Trust your NCOs, don't be afraid to lean on them. They'll appreciate it more when you ask for help rather than do something stupid - which some of you...Tycho...are bound to do.


Ironwing looked over at the pair, now visibly struggling to stay in the up position.

Legion: ATTENTION

The class, including the pair, quickly stood up to the position of attention. Ironwing walked up behind Tycho speaking quietly in his ear.

Lt. Onyx, my wife is quite fond of her pilot. Try not to make jokes referring to her as 'babe'. Lt. Chispa is an officer of the Armada after all.

Ironwing walked back around, You're receive further details on your tablet - class dismissed.
Last edited by Havensky on Thu Dec 29, 2016 8:12 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Milograd
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Founded: Feb 10, 2011
Ex-Nation

The Lonely Aftermath

Postby Milograd » Sun Dec 15, 2013 5:59 pm

++++++++++++++++++
Argyz, Milograd
Gholgoth
++++++++++++++++++


It would be misleading to say that Milograd's victory in the Atraezan War was short-lived: it never lived at all. The newly-inaugurated Dh'arco Rahavuhra Varrak lacked both the experience and leadership of his predecessor. His High Command broke into factions with differing views on how to rebuild in the war's aftermath and how to proceed with dealing with the increasingly toxic succession crisis in the Freekish Empire. Varrak and the R.I. Directors insisted on three demands: state funds should be invested in rebuilding and fortification, the Hivemind would have be restored, and Azrael's spot on the Freekish throne would have to be recognized. The military-led opposition favored leaving the Gothic alliance for the sake of total isolation and militarily preparing for the nation's next inevitable clash with the Kraven Reich.

Like any Milogradian political battle, though, both parties walked away from the incident without success. Varrak exercised his right to purge the entirety of his opposition in the High Command and was consequently left with an inexperienced bureaucracy that accomplished nothing but starving almost an entire continent. Under the leadership of Varrak, every Gothic monetary contribution to the Recovery Initiative went to waste. Meanwhile, record amounts of citizens and workers escaped the island and rebellions were rampant in every one of the remaining High 35 cities, and the administration swiftly fell to the mercy of the people they once owned. Most Milogradian ministers fled Atraeza and the Gholgothic region altogether after merely eight weeks.

That was awhile ago. Now, as the Kravenites made their advance, the streets of Argyz were littered with abandoned and burning police APV's, debris that was left over from the Reich's bombardment of the city, and the occasional corpse. Corpses were very common in the immediate aftermath of the war, but the streets almost seemed to clean themselves as desperate Milogradians abducted them for food. At this point, they were almost a delicacy in Argyz. Survivors in the capital organized themselves into local gangs and tended to stay inside their apartment complexes or in the city's pipelines until night. Then, they'd "conquer" new apartment buildings for their group, attack opposing gangs who posed a threat to their food supply, and scavenge for food under the veil of darkness.

Kravenite explosives were all too familiar to the people of Argyz, but the fusillade of missiles that showered over the high-rises of the former Milogradian capital were met with silence. The sirens, city-wide announcements, radio warnings, and police units that once greeted the Kravenites were absent. A year before, the people of Atraeza narrowly survived a Kravenite invasion with the entirety of the Dh'arconian State's resources at their disposal and with the aid of the mighty Gothic Alliance. Their ability to survive another Kravenite invasion was not a question. They would be alone in their salvation and in their suffering.
Last edited by Milograd on Sun Dec 29, 2013 2:54 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Retired

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Dephire
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Posts: 233
Founded: Sep 06, 2005
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Dephire » Mon Dec 16, 2013 4:43 am

:twisted:

Ghray, Briska
The Fortress Continent, Gholgoth


"Emperor Skragg, the reports have confirmed that the Reich is on the move once more. They have begun bombarding the decaying nation of Milograd," Grand Master Templar Menias Volthe was delivering the message, "As of now, no word has come from that nation... All voices of Milograd have been silenced since the Reich's last attempts."

Tristan Skragg sat upon the fiery golden throne as his friend gave the report. He knew the Reich would rekindle its fire.. It was only a matter of time. "The Reich has made their move. We will commence no operations until we know what our fellow brothers wish to do. I am a man of peace and justice, but there are things even I should not tinker in. Make sure our armadas are ready for whatever may come. Put our military on high alert. We may need to defend the Fortress Continent from unwanted attention."

Menias was confused about his emperor's decision. "Does he mean to let Milograd fall to the Kravenites? Surely he's just delaying our involvement.." He bowed and obeyed Tristan. All members of High Command were put on high alert. Dephire's factories were in full power. All soldiers were put back into active status. Every plane and ship was rearmed and ready to swarm.

The Sword and Shields of the Fortress Continent were engaged. Let the Darkness consume all.

{OOC: As always, short and sweet.}
"My nation was forged by the blade of a sword and so it lives on through the sword." -Tristan Skragg, Emperor of Briska.

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Schultaria Prime
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Posts: 250
Founded: Mar 01, 2004
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Schultaria Prime » Mon Dec 16, 2013 7:03 am

"Remember this, and remember well. Air power advances, and armies may annex, but without cargo... you can't conquer."
-Jenn Roalsky, Speech to the inaugural class of the SKC Merchant Marine Academy, SDC 11.


SSS Atropos
Zivot Bay, Northwestern Milograd


Despite usual assurances from the the Central Office, the trip from Varathon from the Schultarian mainland had become another glitch-infested headache to the Atropos' weary crew. First was the blown head-gasket to the starboard engine, which crippled the ship until a Designwerks Tech could be flown from the mainland into whatever god-forsaken port could fit the half-kilometer long behemoth. Then came the improperly signed cargo manifests while moored in the United Dominion... two weeks of fun arguments and passive-aggressive threats with Customs Authorities while the ship was picked apart container by container.

The Gholgoth leg had been more benign by comparison. A few faults with the galley stove... the Greenhorns accidentally flushing bilge water into the engineering compartment. Annoying, but nothing worth writing home about, until the ship started to shake uncontrollably below decks.

Nestled about 450 km north of Turak, between the shores of the Reich and the remnants of Argyz, Zivot Bay was one of the few places the crew could make a break for as the Atropos began to disintegrate from the inside out. Milograd was hardly the kind of place to set anchor, even before the Atraezan War, but the crew felt relatively safe. The bay was wide enough to afford a reasonable view of any threats, but concealed enough to be protected from the squalls that would inevitably come and whip the coastline.

The Atropos, its massive ovoid hull bereft of light in the murky glow of the pre-dawn sky, was a hive of activity below deck as she shuddered to a halt. Deep within the bowels, dozens of crew members hoisted wrenches and winches that defied the laws of common sense, loosening bolts and fasteners to machines the size of grain silos under the pale beams of battery-powered emergency lights. As panels were unfastened and pools of oil drained by hand, the crew could only shake their heads. Her once mighty engines, designed to feed, clothe, and clad the Schultarian economy a half-billion kilograms at a time, were a mass of bent steel, shaved chromium, and salt water.

On the bridge, Captain Paulo Dermott puffed on a loosely-rolled cigarette while the chief engineer did his best to try and describe the damage. No metaphor or story could really soften the blow: Atropos was dead in the water until someone could tug her to port. As he slumped into his warm and worn chair, knowing just how much the repairs would cost his career, a faint glint of light caught the corner of his eye. Taking a long drag, he leaned against the armrest, tracing the streaks as they cut through the sky.

"You know what direction that is Murray? If we've still got a little juice in the batteries, tell the Navy to hurry with the tow job."
Last edited by Schultaria Prime on Tue Dec 17, 2013 6:49 am, edited 8 times in total.
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Schultaria Prime
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Posts: 250
Founded: Mar 01, 2004
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Schultaria Prime » Mon Dec 16, 2013 6:08 pm

SSS Forvelts
Shavanese - Milogradian Straights, Greater Gholgothic Ocean, Southwest Gholgoth


"Cap, it looks like we've got something. Freighter's reporting trouble and it sounds pretty serious." The ensign produced a piece of paper with smudged circles around a few of the more important lines... The morning's intelligence briefing, clipped to a binder of loose papers and negatives.

Captain Traver sighed as she read the orders. "Looks like they made it into Zivot Bay at least. Command asked us to go check it out - well, we're getting a little action today... finally."

Though the nation prided itself on its advanced technology and loudly boasted of its capabilities, the spartan bridge of the Ramon-class cruiser was far removed from the glimmer and bustle of home. The Navy preferred to be cautious with its front-line ships at least, not that they couldn't afford the upgrades.

Ever since contact had been severed with the Crimm Imperial Navy, the state had been in a panic to compensate for the loss of their military weight. Northwest Gholgoth was a big place and, although relatively stable, had seen enough troubles in recent times to be vigilant. First, the Atraezan War... then came the blockade... now the looming threat of piracy out of Milograd. Mothballed ships were rushed back into service while port facilities in Tarannu, Nassubu, and Edgen lurched to fill the gaps. Thousands of sailors, normally used to four month deployments, were put on extended duty cycles.

The Greater Gholgothic Ocean between the home islands of Mount Shavano and the former bastion of Milograd was of particular concern to the Naval Defense Forces. Varathon's economic might, first tapped by desperate shipping companies looking to offload their wares in safe ports during the depths of the Ghothic blockade, found ready markets for Schultarian products. Since then, Varathon-bound commerce became the next great economic game for the Schultaria's endless state-owned industries, with tens of trillions of merlons in customs duties and raw materials shifting back and forth. The Second Fleet, some 300 ships in all, were dispatched to patrol the waters to make sure civilian shipping - and the precious hard currency it carried - would sail unharmed.

Thousands of kilometers away, deep within the bunkers of the SID, intelligence officials were desperately trying to contact the Second Fleet's flagship to regroup. They, like so many other Ghothic states, had seen the evidence that Kraven was beginning to move. The last thing the government wanted was for any of their own to be caught in the crossfire.

Ever cautious, however, the radios on the cruiser had been powered down as she made her portside turn; the Navy had received numerous reports that plain-channel communications were used by local pirates to lure unsuspecting craft into ambushes. The covers on the cruiser's cannons and missile bays were unlocked, per the fleet's own rules of engagement, as the ship approached the shoreline. When the ship got close enough to the tanker then, and only then, would Captain Traver resume normal stations for the steam back home.

At a distance, the ship's posture was indistinguishable from any other on combat patrol. Flying the Milogradian standard on her stern, displayed by advance elements of the Second Fleet as a gesture of solidarity to the remnants of the High Command, the Forvelts swung around and steamed at full power towards the mouth of Zivot Bay.
Last edited by Schultaria Prime on Fri Dec 20, 2013 2:00 am, edited 6 times in total.
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Havensky
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Posts: 877
Founded: Jan 01, 2008
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Havensky » Mon Dec 16, 2013 9:49 pm

Havensky Military Academy - Headquarters Building
Crystal City, Havensky


Lt. Ariana Chispa stood watch outside the door of conference room where High Command was having their meeting. In the last few weeks, High Command had taken to having their meetings in random places for security reasons. As Lady Jessica's personal pilot she was 'inside' the security bubble and knew exactly what was going on. She was used to not being able to talk about what she heard inside the helijet or Lady Jessica's airship the HRA Bright Beacon.

Normally, she didn't care - but it annoyed her because she couldn't tell Tycho she was in town. The last few months she had been on the World Tour of the White Fleet going from port to port spreading well wishes and making friends. The Humanitarian Fleet had put on quite the show, but she missed Tycho. And now she was in the same building and couldn't say a word.

Orders.

Afternoon ma'am, two cadets on detail walked by and saluted sharply.

She returned the salute, her hand knocking against her helmet as she brought it back down to her hip. She was still in her pilot's gear, with her helmet attached to a clip on her belt. The green camouflage uniform was decorated with several differnet patches including a distinctive Raven Helijet patch and the crest of Lady Jessica Heart. Other bits were her Stallion Airship Class qualification badge and a few campaign patches from her time on the World Tour and various TDF exercises.

She looked back into the room to make sure everything was going ok.

So far, there's been no movement within Gholgoth towards Miliograd or Kraven proper. A few nations have begun mobilizing internally, but there's so far nobody in the region has stepped in.

Are we really going to leave the people of that island to their fate? Is there nothing we can do?

They're literally RIGHT next to the Kraven fortress. Any humanitarian fleet going in there unescorted is on a suicide run. We might as well launch a full scale invasion of Norska - which I can tell you now - not even *I* would vote for that insanity.


Ariana turned back to the front to be met with a tall man lifting up her and swinging her in a circle.

Tycho! Uniform!

Tycho Onyx set her down and flashed a smile, And I missed you too! Why didn't you tell me you were coming?

Orders, mi corazón, Ariana replied. Loose lips sink ships and all. Besides, what are YOU doing here. You're not supposed to be here.

I am too, Tycho insisted and flashed another smile. Ariana's expression told him he wasn''t buying it.

Actually he's right - we were summoned, came a voice down the hall. Gavin Squall walked up and gave Ariana a wave.

Good to see you again LT, Gavin said taking a peek inside the room.

So what else can we do? I don't like having no options Admiral.

We're consolidated the fleets and we're sending superhigh altitude drones over the area to keep an eye on things. But unless we get some other players on the board we're stuck. I know they threatened you - I know they're dangerous - but I won't send any forces in unless I know we can win. For that we need allies either in Gholgoth or much closer.

But even if we did have a close ally - Kraven's only threaten us. You're talking pre-emptive strike here. I want to knock the dog dead as much as you do, but we'd never justify it. The smarter thing would be to prepare a staunch defense of the coast in the event of an incursion.

We're still neglecting the main point - the people of Milograd. How far to people have to live in order for us to intervene?

Close enough to do it right. We'll save who we can Jessica. I promise.


Lucas Ironside stepped out from the room. Ah, I see you've arrived. Step inside please, you might as well be introduced now.

Ariana shot the pair a look as Gavin and Tyco walked inside the conference room.

Pardon the interruption ladies and gentleman. I wanted to introduce you to two additional members of Lady Jessica's augmented guard: 2nd Lieutenants Gavin Sqaull and Tycho Onyx.

The announcement made Tycho grin, but Gavin seemed less than thrilled. However, Gavin was suddenly aware that the King was in the room and quickly took a bow.

The King nodded in acknowledgment and the pair rose again. Ironside continued.

You may be wondering why you've been given this assignment instead of being sent to your own units. The reason is simple: The Skybound Republic needs somebody we can trust to protect Lady Jessica. As you two are my finest students, I felt this would be a good fit. You'll each be given a squad to train for the event of an attack.

A concerned look crossed Gavin's face, Is there a credible threat Sir?

Ironwing pointed to the screen, the face of the Kravenite officer in the Port Provoka bar in high resolution.

The Kraven Corporation wrote:"We are looking for information on this person, Miss Jessica Heart, anyone forthcoming with information as to her whereabouts will be rewarded for their efforts..."


You might say we're concerned., muttered Ironwing
Last edited by Havensky on Mon Dec 16, 2013 9:57 pm, edited 5 times in total.

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Emperor Pudu
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Founded: Aug 24, 2007
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Emperor Pudu » Wed Dec 18, 2013 2:38 pm

There was at least one Dreadfire who had taken careful notice of the situation in south-western Gholgoth. It was the INS Pudu Xiang Wu, a Dreadfire-class dreadnought of the Imperial Pudite Navy.

Aboard it was Fleet Admiral Khudoi, in command of Task Force Six. In recent months, Khudoi's force had become a sort of rapid-reaction force for Pudite interests in Gholgoth; they had been on station near to the former territories of Holy Marsh to witness the collapse of that state into civil war. Now, they had a decidedly less civil conflict in their sights. The Kraven war machine cycling up for a new round of depredations was nothing new, and the Dominate had no direct security concern. Issues like this, however, have proven in the past to be the flashpoint for larger crises, and that was what Khudoi was on the lookout for.

Three days previously Ambassador Lucius Otho of the Pudite mission to Yohannes and senior Imperial diplomat in Gholgoth, had issued a missive to Khudoi politely requesting that the admiral take an interest in this matter. The ambassador had no command power, and he chose not to take the matter to Khudoi's superiors in the military or colonial administrations. This would be a venture that was off the books, as they say. Otho was primarily concerned with the interest non-Gholgothic parasites might take. A Goth was a prestigious target. At a time when Pudite prestige was already suffering, the ambassador and the admiral agreed that it wouldn't do to allow any slights to their name, by association or otherwise. A wounded animal is an animal at its most dangerous.

Far away to the south of the Fortress Continent and the theater of war there was a small Pudite colony, a lone island in the vast international seas. Pin-ta it was called, and it was close enough now to be of use. Admiral Khudoi turned the majority of his four-hundred odd ship fleet as if he was making for the naval base at Pin-ta. They would make the journey slowly, sailing west along the southern shore of Milograd before turning south at the western terminus of Varathron. Not all the ships would take this simple route, however.

Admiral Khudoi aboard his flagship and accompanied by eleven other vessels, including the battlecruiser INS Resplendent Sovereign and the carrier INS Auspicious Dynasty, would instead take the passage between Milograd and Norska. Any other time it would have been a tense journey, but now with the southern island descended into anarchy and their northern brothers mobilizing for a cross-channel invasion, it would have been madness for a neutral war fleet to traverse these seas. Madness, that is, had that fleet not been one belonging to a fellow Gothic Lord.

Only time would tell what Kraven’s true objectives were, but Admiral Khudoi was a patient man, and his masters had time to spare. The eyes of the Dominate were opened wide.

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Xirnium
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 443
Founded: Oct 01, 2005
Ex-Nation

Apologies to Paul Verhoeven

Postby Xirnium » Thu Dec 19, 2013 4:52 pm

The film leader, in which there appeared edge lettering, torn sprocket perforations and dust particles, began with ‘16 sound start’ and ‘35 sound start’, then ‘picture start’ and a countdown. Counting from eight to two, the numbers appeared in the centre of a target with two white circles and a rotating clock-arm animation. During the four count, the letters ‘C C F F’ appeared around the countdown. At two, a quick beep was heard.

Then the newsreel began.

It showed what appeared to be a cross between a kind of operating theatre, a research laboratory and a prison cell. Within the busy room, men and women in white labcoats, neoprene viton gloves and safety glasses with side shields walked about with clipboards or attended to diagnostic biomedical equipment.

The title ‘Know Your Foe’ was splashed across the scene.

‘Every day, Eternal Republic scientists are looking for new ways to kill Capitol Police,’ announced the newsreel reader.

Dórottya Nalôrna, alias Theodora Feuillère, had worked as a sleeper agent in Pantocratoria before her involvement in the international effort to organise and supply underground resistance movements against the Kraven Corporation. The despatches mentioned her infiltration by parachute into occupied Whyatica, and her participation in partisan raids upon the concentration camp and extermination complex at Gidi, alongside agents of Havensky.

She was in military uniform, wearing jack-leather boots and spats, a Sam Brown belt, silver aiguillete and long-skirted greatcoat. Pressing a random button on one of the technological devices for effect, she turned to the camera and was captioned ‘military scientist’.

‘Your basic Sardaukar warrior isn’t too smart...’ Dórottya explained conversationally as she pulled the cocking handle on her ‘bullpup’-styled Feuer Model 89 assault rifle, chambering a round, ‘but you can hit the main body mass...’ she shouldered the weapon, turned to the cell where a Sardaukar paced indecisively and fired a long, three-second burst, ‘and it’s still 83 per cent combat effective.’

The pristine white prison cell was now splattered with bright green and yellow coolant and bright red blood. The Sardaukar had been thrown off his feet. Motors whirred, servos whined and something squeaked as he flailed about on the slippery tiles, tried to stand, stumbled and tripped over, and collided drunkenly with the walls.

‘Here’s a tip; aim for the “basal ganglia”...’ Dórottya shouldered her rifle again and looked carefully down the iron sights this time, ‘and put it down for good.’

The Sardaukar seemed aware of what was coming, somehow, and his vocoder emitted something that passed for a defiant roar. Dórottya depressed the trigger and fired again; a shorter, targeted burst this time. Bits of blood, brain and skull fragments splattered against the tiles, and the Sardaukar slumped to the floor with a final, defeated hiss.

Said the newsreel reader: ‘Would you like to know more...?’
Last edited by Xirnium on Fri Dec 20, 2013 4:38 pm, edited 14 times in total.

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Dephire
Envoy
 
Posts: 233
Founded: Sep 06, 2005
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Dephire » Fri Dec 20, 2013 1:44 am

Fortress City of Hell's Gate, aka "The Reclaimed City"

It had been nearly nine months since the reclamation of Hell's Gate by the Templar Army, whose invasion was necessary in order to save Tristan Skragg. The battles which raged deep inside the city's massive walls were not very destructive, per instructions by the Templar General Menias Volthe. He believed the people were not to suffer and to only target military personnel. However, despite their efforts, the Dark King ordered the Leviathan, Briska's highly advanced military satellite, to be "hurled" at the city in attempt to not only defeat the entirety of the Templar Army, but also kill Tristan. What the Dark King feared was that Tristan would reclaim his true power. In the final moments of the massive satellite's fall, Tristan ascended the mighty tower of Hell Gate's prison and created a barrier that protected most of the city, and his army. A large statue was built in the center of the city, at the top of the tower Tristan stood. A sight all could see from miles around. Large angelic wings were spread from the statue's shoulders as the likeness of Tristan held out his hand toward the Leviathan. Only a handful of people know the true power Tristan unlocked that day, but that was classified information turned legend...

As was most of the Fortress Continent, Hell's Gate was bustling with activity. Tristan ordered that every weapon-producing factory been operational just in-case the Reich stirred. It was not for the protection from the Reich, however, but for the preservation of the Continent. After the war, the Phoenix Emperor believed that any actions against the Fortress Continent would be an action that would put his people in jeopardy. Weapons needed to be built for the defense, the shield, of the Continent. Wilhelm, the Dark King's former right-hand and now advisor to Tristan, was the governor of Hell's Gate.

"Tristan needs all available arms ready for any impending attacks. We are this realm's Shield. If we fall, our people will die!" Wilhelm made his best attempts at enticing the many factory workers through large screens, which all displayed his likeness at the thousands of factories. He was still recovering after the connection to Delthar was finally severed during near the end of the Final War.

A man walked into Wilhelm's chamber, "Sir, we are producing hundreds of fighters a minute. Weapons pour out by the thousands. Bullets are flying by the millions. We are prepared for quite a battle."

"Good. The Phoenix Emperor will be pleased to hear my report. Do we have our soldiers being prepared?" Wilhelm, dressed in all black with silver pauldrons.

"We have twenty-five million soldiers prepared... Unfortunately, they are only going to be Hell Knight capable."

Wilhelm banged his hand against the mahogany table, "Damn! We need more soldiers and they need to be better trained!"

"Yes, mi'lord, we should have a full fifty million by week's end if we work hard. They could be Godsend Knight capable with the proper push," the man bowed.

Wilhelm smiled, "This will please Tristan most graciously. Make it so."

========================================================================================

San Salvadorea

The mega-city of San Salvadorea exploded in growth since the war as in now expanded almost entirely along the Demilitarized Zone between Dephire and the Kraven Reich. Though the two were considered brother nations, it was deemed necessary to build a DMZ between the two to spoil any desires to try and overtake the other. San Salvadorea was one of the most powerful military cities in all of Dephire, and was now equipped with monstrous rail cannons, and nearly one-quarter of the entire army and air force. It was bustling in preparation for whatever was to come, if anything was to ever come. Thousands of aircraft took to the skies every hour to ensure proper functionality and maintenance. Tanks were also being pumped out of the factories non-stop. No army from outside the Dephirian subcontinent would ever see the full might of its armies, nor should they ever... But not this time. Dephire as a whole was in a "feeding" frenzy. Their brothers across the line had a small head start in production, but the hundreds of thousands of factories would quickly make up for lost time.

During the end of Renuvian's reign and throughout the short-lived reign of the Dark King, hundreds of massive secret factories were creating millions of super-soldiers to help bolster the armies. Though he disliked using them, the soldiers had no place to go once their king fell.

Ghray, Capitol of Briska

The Phoenix Emperor, Tristan Skragg, sat upon his throne. He did not ask for the title, nor a throne itself, but it was a request from his people that he sat upon a throne and ruled the Dephirian subcontinent. The young man was already scarred from too many wars for his age. He appeared somewhat distant, as if he had experienced a thousand lifetimes, but this young ruler was emperor over all. With the twin blades sheathed into the arm rests of his throne and God's Bane sheathed into the back of the throne, none dared try to get on his bad side. However, Tristan was the forgiving ruler...

Ghray, along with the neighboring city of Galva, were now the main ports for the Imperial Armada, a naval force of legendary power. The Templar Armada had moved into Hammerfest, a large naval base northeast of Hell's Gate. From his throne, Tristan could look out to the ocean and see his armada anchored on the horizon. Hundreds, if not thousands, of aircraft flew overhead. His military arm was in full-swing, but this was only a small test. With the Templar Grand Master Menias Volthe as his second-in-command, Tristan was a formidable man.

"Emperor, my staff have reported fifty million soldiers will be prepared and ready by week's end," Wilhelm was reporting via video communicator. Tristan felt that the military flexing was not truly necessary until the Reich called for aid, but he did know that preparations were needed.

"That is good news, Wilhelm, thank you for the report," Tristan replied in a quiet tone. He saw a hand rest on his arm as Menias leaned in.

"Fifty million by week's end? That is extremely over the top.... We only needed a few million to be honest... Hell, I am not even sure we will need anyone at this rate. We still have the entire army including the Templars, " Menais spoke in a hushed voice.

"I know, Menias. He's just trying to do what he can to be supportive. Wilhelm wants to atone for all of the sins he caused while his mind was controlled by the Demon."

"Well, yes... But at some point he must be sounding way too desperate," Menias let go of Tristan's arm and walked a few steps away from the throne, "Besides, how long until remission?"

Tristan looked away from his friend, "That is not an option. He will be contained at every possible means. In any sense, he would not dare try to turn against me..."

"My friend, it wouldn't be by his choice. His mind was nearly lost while under Vega's rule, and we must accept that we may have to dispose of him if he starts to show the signs again."

"Enough, Menias. You have made your point. I will see if our brothers can share some... insight into if there is a way to either completely remove the cybernetics or a way to at least suppress his degradation," Tristan stood from his throne, to which he then turned to. Slowly he unsheathed the twin swords from their rightful places and slid them into the sheathes at his sides. He did the same to God's Bane, "In the meantime, we have soldiers to prepare."
"My nation was forged by the blade of a sword and so it lives on through the sword." -Tristan Skragg, Emperor of Briska.

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The Kraven Corporation
Diplomat
 
Posts: 501
Founded: Apr 24, 2005
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby The Kraven Corporation » Sat Dec 21, 2013 5:42 am

Coastal City of Milograd
1000 Hours Standard Imperial Time

Rubble was strewn across the street, with burnt out cars littering the road, an overturned bus lay across a pathway with the front of its cab wedged firmly into the front of some former shop, charred bodies lay in random positions all over, with some reaching out towards loved ones in their last moments of life, pillars of smoke rose all over the city giving the air an acrid smell that stuck to the nostrils, a smell that would live with people forever, the morning clouds were dark, tainted by the smoke rising from a multitude of shell impact craters, above the city the noise of a Kraven VTOL assault craft moving slowly through what remained of the tall high rise buildings, its four powerful engines roaring as the pilots slowly cruised through the devastated cityscape, below them five people ran, one of them a small child..

"Quickly, into the building at the end of the street, its still standing!" one of them, a man in his forties, holding the hand of what could presumably be his wife, she was crying, her dirtied face was streaked with tears, their clothes had been ripped and torn and blood had stained their clothes, no one could be certain whose blood exactly it was, the VTOL lowered its height, dust began to kick up from the powerful down blasts of the engines while a side door was slid open and a Capitol Police door gunner stepped out slightly, lowering one foot onto a guide rail, the Assault Cannon mounted on a cradle spun into life, one quick burst sent bullets flying up the road, sending little bursts of dust up from the concrete road, rounds punctured the burnt out car, sending showers of sparks cascading all around as the five people did their best to avoid the gunfire, weaving in and out of the debris as best they could...

Another burst of gunfire caught a young man in the leg, the large calibre rounds smashed clean off his body and with a slight wobble and a howl of pain the young man collapsed to the ground in a heap, his life blood spurting from the wound, the man in his forties paused for a moment, turning to help the young man, but it was already too late, another burst of gunfire silenced the young man's howls of pain, making any chance to help him useless, there wasn't even time to mourn his passing, they had to keep moving...

Another burst followed by another, but it was too late, the remaining four leapt into the doorway of the building as the last burst of gunfire stitched its way along the front of the building, The VTOL paused and swung about, its two pilots looking directly at the face of the building, inside the four got their breath, they were sat in a former Ministry Office, fading posters of D'harconian Propaganda were starting to peel from the wall while everything else had been looted for its worth...

"What do we do now, Papa?" The small child spoke, his voice trembling slightly as he did,

"Nothing, Joseph, we can only wait and hope they lose interest" His father spoke, he knew there was nothing he could do, they had no weapons with which to fight a VTOL or the Troopers it carried, they could only wait for the inevitable assault

A man wearing dirty tactical gear appeared in the room, another followed and another, they looked like they had seen better days, they too were covered in spots of blood, dirt and oil, their weapons were battered and worn, each of the three men had a look in their eyes as though they had looked into the very heart of hell, they were tired but were still fighting, no one had come to help them since The Reich had launched its second Invasion, with the D'harconian Government gone, the people were abandoned, left to whatever fate The Reich had planned, so somebody had to fight back, at least they could say they did something, at least they would stand up and be counted when The Kravenite Troopers occupied their homelands at least it was more than the International Community would do...

"Stay here, there is nothing you can do against the VTOL, we have a rocket launcher upstairs, we might be able to bring it down" one of the soldiers spoke, he held a cigarette limply between his lips, he could see the child was scared, "Hey, here, have this" he fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out a small piece of chocolate wrapped in tin foil, the child looked grateful and ate it up quickly, it was probably the first thing he's eaten in weeks...

"Right, you two go to the upper level, get the attention of that door gunner, I'll man the launcher.." the other two gave curt nods before running off into the upper level...


Outside, The VTOL was slowly moving along the front of the building, moving from one side to the other, powerful spot lamps illuminated the inside of the building, from up above the two soldiers appeared and immediately put a full burst of ammunition into the roof of the craft, the rounds bounced harmlessly off its armoured canopy, but it was enough to get its attention, its rose up vertically with rapid speed, its two pilots now looking for whoever opened fire, both of them had ducked back into the building, having distracted the two pilots, one of the pilots opened up radio communications with tactical command, giving a series of coordinates, from below the first soldier appeared, shouldering a simple rocket launcher, it took aim then squeezed the trigger, the rocket lept from the large tube, before igniting and rocketing its way into the open door of the VTOL, it exploded inside the cabin, killing all twenty five Capitol Police that were waiting for deployment, the craft now started to spin out of control, inside various alarms and buzzers sounded as the two pilots struggled to gain any kind of control, six seconds later and the craft errupted into a ball of flames after spinning into a block of flats across the way...

all three soldiers cheered, until one of them heard a distinct report, that hadn't been heard for at least a week...

"Wait, fuck... I know what they have just done... " the first soldier shouted...

"What do you mean?" Laughed the one of the soldiers from above...

"Rather than try and fight us, they were just going to clear the building..." The first answered...

"How?" came the reply..

"They'd just ordered a Rail Artillery Bombardment..."

"Fuck..."



The Artillery had fired its shell, a GPS guided and fin stabilized monstrosity, an expensive shell but ones used only for when accurate shelling was required, in this case on a specific building, the shell one it reached the top of its trajectory would deploy small fins that would guide the shell into its final target on the falling descent...

All three of them heard the whistle as the shell came down, there was no time to run, no time to do anything, the eight ton shell exploded on impact, bringing the building down in a violent explosion of fire, debris and body parts... once the dust had settled, the street had been turned into an immense crater, leaving nothing behind, no evidence of the fight that had transpired earlier, nothing, just a vast, empty hole that now filled with water from the destroyed utilities beneath...
"If you want a vision of the future, Winston, imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever." - 1984
Scand: No one beats you Kraven for largest number killed a day.
Scand: Your nation is a glorified death camp after all.
Tiurabo: WTF Kraven.
Tiurabo: You are the last person who can tell me to be calm.
Tiurabo: You're a goddam psycho.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wT0uR5wB76M The Updated National Anthem of Imperial Fortress Reich
Resistance is Futile... We Are The Kraven Reich

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Havensky
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Posts: 877
Founded: Jan 01, 2008
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Havensky » Sat Dec 21, 2013 8:29 am

Ironwing Residence
Crystal City, The Skybound Republic of Havensky


Lady Jessica was about to sit down for dinner with her family when the doorbell rang. Lucas had cooked a very large batch of Texas chili and was pouring a glass of Malbec for her, root beer for the kids, and a Lone Star Beer for himself.

I’ll get it, she said walking from the hardwood kitchen table to the front door. The Ironwings lived in a condo building in Crystal City’s “Ruby Circle” neighborhood. The buildings in the neighborhood were just outside the capitol district and were a favorite for senior government officials and Senate members who wanted a quick commute. The Ruby Circle condos had mixed the units so that security staff assigned to high level members could afford to live just next door.

The condo was decorated with trinkets from Jessica’s travels as Secretary of State. A tribal mask here, a shield there, and small painting hung up above the mantel. She was dressed comfortably in jeans and a short sleeved shirt as Havensky was warm all year around — her red hair tucked into a neat ponytail. Her boots clacking against the hardwood floor.
She opened the door and her eyes went wide.

BY THE SKY! Dórottya! What are you doing here?! Come in! Come in! Come IN!

Dórottya Nalôrna had aged slightly in the eight years which had passed since the famous newsreel footage from which most of the Havensky officer cadets would probably have recognised her, but now at 40 she still looked the same as she had the last time she had visited the Ironwings in the Crystal City. She wore a natty, oat-coloured undress uniform with summer shirtsleeve order of white blouse and pistolled cross-belt, and bared a short span of leg between a slim, knee-length skirt and high, polished, jack-leather boots with heels.

Jessica… Dórottya replied, walking in the door and into the excited embrace of the other woman. Dórottya returned her hug awkwardly, still holding her bags and with a pair of long guncases over her shoulder. Jessica turned her head to see a girl of about 19 with long, blonde hair who had walked in right behind Dórottya.

And Edwige! Come give your aunt a hug!

Edwige, who was carrying a valise, smilingly hopped into her aunt Jessica’s arms and accepted her hug, greeting her, laughing, with a cutely respectful lamàl, short for “I kiss your hand”.

Lucas came into the living room followed by the twins Jason and Victoria with a grin on his face.

Aunt Nal! Edwigee!, the kids shouted running up to the pair and giving hugs.

Victurnien sends his love, Dórottya told Lucas and Jessica apologetically, giving each twin a materteral kiss on top of their head. He wasn’t able to take any time off work. She smiled thinly. They’ve really grown, haven’t they? she asked, touching Victoria’s red hair.

Young man, you’ve been practicing your 99-yard passes, haven’t you? she said jokingly, squeezing Jason’s shoulder. Soon you’ll be old enough to date!

Mom…
Edwige smiled shyly and her mother put an arm around her waist.

Jessica turned to Lucas and back to Dórottya. You knew about this didn’t you Lucas?

Dórottya looked sheepish and turned to Lucas. Lucas handed wine to both ladies and grabbed Dórottya’s luggage. Her officer’s épée was carried discreetly in a modified guncase.

Profecta’s idea. With all that’s going on we thought it be useful to get the old gang back together. Technically, she’s here to attend the Ball at the Academy next week and give a lecture — but really we just wanted to surprise you with a visit.

Dórottya nodded. Thank you so much for allowing us into your home, she said to both.

The old gang? Edwige asked her mother, smiling enquiringly.

Didn’t you know; your aunt and uncle and I used to work together, a long time ago. Before you were born. Dórottya pursed her lips.

Dórottya had been part of the rescue squadron that had first found Jessica while she had been imprisoned by Kraven. She had seen horrors during that mission which she would never forget. In the following months after the rescue, Dórottya had become a close confidant of Jessica’s as they had hunted other Kraven Butcher facilities. When Lucas proposed, Dórottya was the Maid of Honor at their wedding. Their children may not have been related by blood, but they were all close.

We have so much catching up to do, Dórottya said cryptically. The Kraven Corporation was not something she could ever talk about with her daughter, not even really with her husband, Victurnien.

Jessica smiled, with her empathic visions acting up it would be a great comfort to have Dórottya here. Lucas had thought of everything in terms of her cover and logistics. To anyone on the outside, it seemed perfectly natural for Dórottya to be giving a guest lecture giving her position at the Xirniumite Staff College. Nobody would suspect she was being brought in for a high level meeting on the latest Kraven threat.
Last edited by Havensky on Tue Apr 24, 2018 6:48 am, edited 2 times in total.

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The Kraven Corporation
Diplomat
 
Posts: 501
Founded: Apr 24, 2005
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby The Kraven Corporation » Sat Dec 21, 2013 1:27 pm

Reich Territorial Waters, South Western Gholgoth
Approaching Zivot Bay
1400 Hours Standard Imperial Time



The Naval Arm North was moving on an attack vector, working its way down towards the western coast of Milograd in preparation for the ground invasion of Argyz, the Capital City, its fleet numbered in the thousands, with various classes of vessel akin to a Kraven Resource Fleet, its flagship was the now infamous Super State Destroyer "The Executioner" a two kilometer behemoth that dwarfed all the other vessels around it including the equally infamous Subjugator Class Super Dreadnaughts, each of these vessels were used the expertise akin to The Reich Navy with each Capital Ship protected by a number of escorts and specialist vessels, including the ubiquitous "Mimir Class" tracking vessels that gave the fleet its eyes and ears..

Onboard The Executioner the fleet Admiral, one Augustus Hensch stood watching the cold grey waters that lay before his fleet, this man was a veteran, served on various Capital Ships before being given Command of The Naval Arm North after Admiral Horst failed to complete his task in Ashazeth, his predecessor, Horst was taken out at dawn and executed by firing squad in the Citadel District for failure of duty, Hensch was a cold hearted Officer, like all Kravenites he was unthinking and as unfeeling as a machine, he knew what his orders were and he would carry them out or meet the firing squad like his predecessor..

A Capitol Police Ensign approached and gave a sharp salute, his cold, mechanical voice cut through the air, bringing Hensch's attention back to the Bridge...

"Admiral, Freighter spotted by long range tracking, reports indicate it is currently dead in the water, Freighter is not responding to Fleet Hails, Advise?"

"Deploy, VTOL scout craft, have scouts confirm reports"

"By Your Command"

Onboard one of the Gholgoth Super Carriers, a small, sleek black VTOL craft took off from the vessels long sea bound runway, its powerful engines took it high up into the air before it circled a few times before heading out into the direction of the stricken Freighter, it would only take a few minutes for the craft to reach its target, where it would fly low a few times and buzz the ship hoping to spot any crew or some signs of occupation, it would report back to Fleet Command and await further orders...

unbeknownst to The Reich, this Freighter was unwittingly about to bring two Gothic Nations on a collision course to conflict...
Last edited by The Kraven Corporation on Sat Dec 21, 2013 1:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"If you want a vision of the future, Winston, imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever." - 1984
Scand: No one beats you Kraven for largest number killed a day.
Scand: Your nation is a glorified death camp after all.
Tiurabo: WTF Kraven.
Tiurabo: You are the last person who can tell me to be calm.
Tiurabo: You're a goddam psycho.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wT0uR5wB76M The Updated National Anthem of Imperial Fortress Reich
Resistance is Futile... We Are The Kraven Reich

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Emperor Pudu
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 163
Founded: Aug 24, 2007
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Emperor Pudu » Sat Dec 21, 2013 6:18 pm

There was a light breeze in the cool night air, Admiral Khudoi only knew that from the weather reports, however; standing on the deck of a ship cruising at twenty four knots, there was bound to be some wind in your face. The admiral was enjoying a cigarette, probably his tenth or eleventh tonight; he had heard from foreigners he spoke to that cigarette smoking was bad for the lungs. Sometimes that gave him pause, but not now. The Imperial Armed Forces issued cigarette rations not for the lungs, but for the nerves. Knudoi needed a smoke tonight. A few hours previously he had gotten the intelligence reports from the reconnaissance service back in the capital. Their satellites had picked up massive Kraven fleet deployments. The invasion was about to begin. He took another drag from his Crusader-brand filterless; the only kind he ever smoked. The breeze carried a trail of smoke away from him, whipping around the conning tower and back, into the inky night.

"Admiral." A voice called from the door behind him, "Sir, we've got positive contact, it can't be anything other than the Reich's fleet, sir." Khudoi didn't turn around. He stared at the horizon, barely visible between the dark skies and equally dark ocean below, "Confirmed, I'll be in shortly." The officer saluted, probably, Khudoi didn't bother to look and see. He heard the door close behind him. He imagined the Kravenite fleet crossing that horizon; what a sight it must be. Khudoi was no stranger to the Kraven Reich, but he had only ever seen one of their dreadnoughts in fleet intelligence silhouettes and satellite photos. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see one up close. The admiral took a final drag on the cigarette and dropped it into a sanitary receptacle beside him. One couldn't go flicking lit cigarettes around on a warship.

Khudoi ducked inside and up a quick flight of stairs. He arrived on the bridge to find his XO and other senior officers waiting for him. "We were down in the CIC, but we heard you were up here," one of them said. The admiral grunted, "Heard right. What's the picture out there." The first to speak was his executive officer, "We've got more than a thousand contacts on radar. As soon as we painted them they hit us with weapons targeting radar. I don't think they like us peeking. We've backed the sensors down." Khudoi chuckled, "No, I expect they don't. What ID's did you get when you painted them?" he asked, "We've got your usual escorts, a few carriers, and even some of the big gun boys, but you'll like this the best, They've got The Executioner. She's almost twice our size, if you don't remember the files." Said from aboard a ship herself thirteen hundred meters long, that was quite a statement. Khudoi remembered the files. Understandably, the admiral was suitably impressed by the notion of her proximity. "And their heading?" he inquired, "As you'd expect, appear to be heading directly across the channel." Khudoi stood silently for a moment. He found himself wishing for another cigarette, and then he wondered if they really were unhealthy. Not important now.

"We have two choices here, it seems," Khudoi began finally, "Pretty soon all this is going to be an internal sea of the Kraven Reich. We've got to scatter or make ourselves welcome. Given our orders, it seems we're down to just one option. Someone get me a line to that dreadnought, whoever's in command will probably be there." The staff saluted and dispersed, Khudoi followed his XO down to the CIC where they would put out the call. Broadcast on standard Gholgothic coms frequencies, unencrypted, the following message would be picked up by all ships in the area:

This is Fleet Admiral Khudoi of the Imperial Pudite Navy, looking for a copy from 'The Executioner' or other allied vessels.
Last edited by Emperor Pudu on Sat Dec 21, 2013 6:23 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Havensky
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Posts: 877
Founded: Jan 01, 2008
Civil Rights Lovefest

Graduation

Postby Havensky » Sat Dec 21, 2013 9:36 pm

Havensky Military Academy
Crystal City, Havensky
Texas Region


Graduation Day.

Normally, the Havensky Military Academy would hold graduation in the middle of January. However, with the recent attack on Milograd by the the Kraven Reich as well on the threats against Secretary of State Jessica Heart, it was decided to accelerate the schedule. By cutting out some rest days, some of the time needed for unit assignment, and by combining the Winter Ball and Graduation they could do graduation day today.

High Command had also decided to use the opportunity to address the world regarding the two incidents. The media hadn’t caught wind of the Pravoka incident, but it was only a matter of time. Additionally, the media had taken notice of the unusual quietness from the His Majesty’s Government.

The inside of the Grand Hall was decorated with the battle flags of the Skyan Legion. The marble halls echoed with the sounds of graduating legionaries marching in wearing power armor. Large broadswords hung at their sides and each graduate carried a heavy shield. To an outsider, they would have looked like a small army of knights.

In the first row, stood the graduates of the Centurion Officer Candidate School of which included Gavin Squall and Tycho Onyx dressed in scarlet armor.

The stage stood five feet high with Havensky and Texas flags lined up behind the row of chairs where the honor party would be seated. A large podium stood in the center of the stage with the seal of the Havensky Legion adorned at the center. Just in front of the stage, a row of cameras were fixated on the podium. Newscasters were commenting on the history of conflicts between Havensky and the Kraven Reich and what the latest aggression by Kraven’s naval forces might mean for Havensky.

The honor party included several academy staff and Secretary of State Jessica Heart. Gavin Squall, as the top student, gave the command to salute. All at once, the graduates saluted - the metallic sound of a hundred swords being pulled from their sheaths echoing through the hall.

Jessica stepped up to the podium to begin her speech. This was an unusual move and threw the newscasters off. Normally, graduation ceremonies had a lot more pomp and tradition. Going to the keynote right away was very odd.

ORDER…ARMS!

The swords returned to their sheaths and Jessica began her speech.

Good afternoon,

I am pleased to be speaking at this important occasion. The graduates gathered have worked hard to become Legionaries - the defenders of our people.

Many of you know that my husband, Lucas Ironwing, teaches at this academy. He is very proud of his students and I’m sure his fellow cadre feel the same way. The King of Havensky would not only like to express how proud he is of our graduates, but that they have chosen to take the hard job.

The Airship Armada dominates the skies - aiding our region in defending against raiders. The White Fleet, our humanitarian fleet, is in the darkest most troubled corners of the globe delivering aid and comfort to those in need.

But the Legion has the hard job. When times get hard and the monsters appear at our door - it is the Legion that we send. When the world ignores the cries of the oppressed and the masses cry out for freedom - it is the Legion that we send. When our allies call for aid - it is the Legion that we send.

I’m sure many of you are wondering, the world grows darker and colder and more dangerous, if the time is coming when we shall stop calling the Legion. If there will come a time when the White Fleet goes nowhere, despite the troubles of the world. That when our allies call, there will be no one to answer.

If that time is to come, it has certainly not come now.

We condemn The Kraven Corporation’s recent incursion into the area of former Milograd. This attack was launched unprovoked. This attack continues to indiscriminately target civilian and military targets alike. This attack does nothing to increase the security of their region. Indeed, an abandoned people, they posed no threat to anyone. Their only crime was to be born into a country that shared a border with the Kraven Reich.

We lament the lack of response from the Gothic Lords of Gholgoth. The Skyan People have no interest in interfering in the affairs of other regions, but it is not without regret that we note that the people of that island will suffer annihilation with no defenders - much less a protest from neighboring governments.

It should be noted that the Kraven Reich has been so quiet. We note that the tyrants have demanded tribute, and ships of prisoners - forsaken by their own government - now set sail for the Fortress Island. We condemn these nations. It matters not if they took these actions out of fear or malice. These are despicable actions.

Let this be known: The People of Havensky have hearts that are not so cold. We, and our allies, stand ready to deliver humanitarian aid to any people of this world regardless of their hardship. This has not changed. Ask, and we shall answer. Let this be known: The People of Havensky are unafraid. We will defend our allies regardless of the foe. Ask, and we shall answer. Let this be known: Any nation that values freedom, and justice, and empowerment of the people shall have a friend in the Skyan people. Ask, and we shall answer!

Let this be known: Any despot who feels they can bring their jackboots upon the soils of the free people should know that they are those who stand ready to defend them! Ask…and we…shall answer!


Gavin drew his sword and held it high, LET THIS BE KNOWN!

The Legion drew their swords and repeated, WE SHALL ANSWER!

Jessica spoke again, By the power invested in me by the King of Havensky, On the behest and behalf of the People of Havensky, I know confer upon you the title of Legionary - Defenders of the People of Havensky - Defenders of Texas - and Friend to all who cherish Freedom and Liberty!

Cameras flashed and Jessica's voice carried through the air through the networks and the Net.

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Dephire
Envoy
 
Posts: 233
Founded: Sep 06, 2005
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Dephire » Sun Dec 22, 2013 2:31 am

Ghray, Capital City of Briska

The Phoenix Emperor sat behind a large, black desk made from obsidian. Accompanying him was Menias and several servants. After much whispered chatter over the mobilization of their counterparts, he turned directly to Menias.

"Menias, open a line to Kravenite High Command, then leave the room," Tristan spoke in a hushed tone to his friend.

"Yes, sir," Menias obeyed. He inserted the coding for a direct link to Reichmarshall Deitrich, then promptly ushered everyone out of the room.

The line sounded gargled, but Tristan knew better. I know you can hear me, Reichmarshall. You need not answer, but I know you will hear me. My armadas will set sail soon. I was hoping to sit back and relax while you extended your arm, but some outsider has turned their prying eyes onto our region. I cannot allow this. We will help create a blockade to help keep outsiders from getting involved with Gothic matters. This should allow you to proceed unhindered. You probably knew this already... We are brothers in arms after all.

Tristan took a brief pause to stand up and pace around the room.

However, there was another reason I intruded upon your privacy this evening. As you know, Wilhelm was part of an integration program much similar to your country's. We took out the control towers designed to control him, but the residual effects seem to be taking hold of his mind. You, the people who have made this a way of life, must have found a way to... Eliminate these effects. Am I wrong in thinking this?

The young man seemed to chuckle as he almost thought he was just talking to himself.

I suppose it matters not. Once he has lost his mind, he is then of no further use to me. I believe he would be a better asset to you when that happens. He smiled. He served our nation along-side my many predecessors and could prove an invaluable commander... That is if you were to incorporate him. Tristan sat down in his chair. What say you, brother?


=========================================================

Hammerfest, The Templar Armada's Home

Just a year ago, the entire armada of the Templar Order was in exile, offering temporary protection to the Gothic nation of Kylarnatia in exchange for their hospitality. Now, the several thousand ship armada was anchored just offshore of the former home of the Dominator-Class Rail Cannon, which had long since been decommissioned. Grand Admiral Tynsei Domrea paced nervously aboard the Templar Flagship, Archangel.

Attention to All,

The orders have been given to sail towards Ghray. The Emperor wishes to see the Armada before we then set sail for the accursed lands of Milograd. Set sail at once!


Tynsei was awaiting the orders all day. She was given an informal notification earlier by Menias to prepare the Archangel to sail within the hour. She listened without question. Were we going to enter this bloodbath? What the fuck was the Emperor planning? The thoughts kept running through her head. The more she thought of every scenario, the faster she paced back and forth.

"Admiral, we are now on course to the Briskan capital. We should be there by week's end," a young Templar sailor chimed in, breaking the trance that had taken over the admiral's mind.

"It is the Emperor that wishes to see his ships. Week's end is not going to be soon enough," she barked, "We must be there within thirty-six hours."

"Aye, Admiral!" Another sailor happily adjusted the heading and speed. The Archangel lurched forward effortlessly.
"My nation was forged by the blade of a sword and so it lives on through the sword." -Tristan Skragg, Emperor of Briska.

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The Kraven Corporation
Diplomat
 
Posts: 501
Founded: Apr 24, 2005
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby The Kraven Corporation » Sun Dec 22, 2013 2:38 pm

Southern Coastal Artillery Division
Coastal Deterrent Battery
Fortress Norska

The Pudite transmission was picked up first by radio operators from the Coastal Deterrent Battery, a series of Gun Emplacements along the D'harconian Strait Sea Wall, this defensive structure stretched along the coastline of Fortress Norska, the wall itself bristling with various different calibres of weapon, some anti aircraft, other emplacements designed to fight against beach invasions, while some were long range missile launchers, heavily fortified and defended by Battalions of Capitol Police, this was the first line of defence for The Reich and now its attention was upon the Pudite Vessels that were encroaching on Reich Territorial Waters.

"Attention, All Battery Gunners, Action Stations" Klaxons now sounded all along the defensive sea wall, the defenses suddenly sprung to life, with thousands of trenchcoat wearing Capitol Police spilling from bunker doorways and onto the parapets along the top of the wall, their weaponry all making distinctive noises as they were readied and prepared for whatever might unfold, the Twenty-Eight Inch Coastal Deterrent Naval Guns now swung into position, their gunners and loaders preparing to fire at the Pudite Vessel should the need arise...

"Awaiting, Further Instructions" came the call from the Battery that was now at full readiness, A Capitol Police Officer stood looking at the Pudite vessels through a set of high powered binoculars, in the background the steady rumble of the long range Rail Road Artillery continued to thunder away hitting distant targets in the Milogradian Continent, a communication channel was opened to the Pudite Vessels and to The Admiral in particular...

"Pudite Vessel, You are entering restricted Reich Defensive Territorial Waters, If your formation does not alter its course, you will be engaged by Coastal Deterrent Batteries, Will you Comply?"

The Capitol Police Officer, stood with his hand raised, Capitol Police Operators watched with cold indifference waiting for the signal to open fire, it would be given by the drop of a hand, then the Coastal Defences would open up like the mouth of hell and rain fire down upon the vessels that had entered the Defensive Territorial Water Zone...
Last edited by The Kraven Corporation on Sun Dec 22, 2013 2:44 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"If you want a vision of the future, Winston, imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever." - 1984
Scand: No one beats you Kraven for largest number killed a day.
Scand: Your nation is a glorified death camp after all.
Tiurabo: WTF Kraven.
Tiurabo: You are the last person who can tell me to be calm.
Tiurabo: You're a goddam psycho.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wT0uR5wB76M The Updated National Anthem of Imperial Fortress Reich
Resistance is Futile... We Are The Kraven Reich

User avatar
Emperor Pudu
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 163
Founded: Aug 24, 2007
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Emperor Pudu » Sun Dec 22, 2013 3:09 pm

The Reich's coastal artillery targeting radar had sent the CIC into a frenzy of activity even before the message from the shore battery arrived. The modular radar aboard the Pudu Xiang Wu and her escorts began tracking the frequencies of the enemy's eyes, but on an order from Khudoi they had not yet begun ECM activities. They won't fire on us, Khudoi thought to himself. Gods I hope they won't fire on us. The sudden arrival of the Kravenite transmission pricked the hairs up on the back of the admiral's neck. No less could have been the reaction of the room's crew, Pudite soldier or no.

As he was hearing it he turned to his XO; the man's face seemed drained of blood. "Get up to the bridge and signal the squadron, they want a course change. They got it." His XO scurried away, happy, Khudoi thought, to be out of the room. The air remained tense in the CIC. The center's commander turned to Admiral Khudoi after a moment, "Sir?" he asked "Orders?". Khudoi turned to face him and realized the faces of all the men in the room were on him now. "Wire this order to the bridge: All ships make starboard turn to reverse course and prepare to take evasive action, combat speed." The message was sent and the executive officer passed it on to the eleven other ships of the squadron. None were hesitant to obey.

The Pudu Xiang Wu began her wide turn even as her engines kicked up the massive vessel's speed. Once they got on a straight bearing they could get up to more than thirty knots. Even so, Khudoi thought, she would be a damn hard target to miss. He thought back now to the blustering that he had kicked up the last time he had received a transmission like that; during the Ashazeth crisis he had insisted on undertaking freedom of navigation maneuvers. It was the official stance of the Pantokratocracy, after all, that no nation may legitimately claim more than 20 kilometers of sea. There was of course the official stance and the practical stance, however, and today was a day to be practical. Khudoi needed a cigarette. Hopefully not his last.

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Xirnium
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 443
Founded: Oct 01, 2005
Ex-Nation

In collaboration with Havensky

Postby Xirnium » Mon Dec 23, 2013 3:16 am

Edwige, 19-year-old daughter of ‘Major’ Dórottya Nalôrna, sat soaking up the light and bright and sparkling atmosphere with her intelligent blue eyes. She wore a sleeveless, shell pink and black shift dress, with a flowing trapeze shape, colourblocking at the collar and hem, and faux leather trim to add a luxe finish. Beside her, her mother had changed into the tight, almost perfectly pressed, full dress uniform of a commissioned officer in the Army of the Association of March Shires, with a tall peaked cap and cape-style greatcoat, and near-regulation smoked glasses hiding her eyes.

The women clapped politely at the appropriate moments and listened silently during the keynote address. A lot of it went over Edwige’s head. She had learnt about the Kraven Corporation, and its stunning defeat at the Battle of Ingáthern, in history class, but had never heard of Milograd and, as a young girl with the usual indifference to news and current affairs, had only vaguely heard of Gholgoth. Wasn’t it that place run by the guy who used to be a pro wrestler? Or was that where Iesus Christi was located? (The country with the psycho-bitch Nazi fundamentalist dictator.)

The Great Ballroom was decorated much like the great hall, only with banners from all the Skyan Air Fleets and Legion Units represented. The serving staff had laid out a great feast in the form of brisket, burgers, barbaque and tacos. Her mother had mentioned something about the food in this region being spectacular, but Edwige hadn’t really believed it until she walked by the tables.

Military Academy staff members were dressed in their military uniforms. The Legion officers wore white dress uniforms, while the Airship Armada officers wore dark black uniforms.

The graduates were a mix of dress. Some had changed into their dress uniforms, while others were still wearing their power armour. Given that Gavin and Tycho were part of Lady Jessica’s protection unit, they still wore their scarlet power armour and were working in shifts. Gavin had drawn the first shift while Tycho had the first dance with Lieutenant Ariana Chispa.

The first dance was a formal affair, a classic waltz that included all the higher ranking officials. Aunt Jessica danced with her Uncle Lucas, and another staff member had politely extended a hand to Edwige’s mother. After the first dance, the band moved into more contemporary fare and the actual party began.

Many of the cadets had brought dates to the ball, but a fair number were at the party by themselves. A few of them roamed around trying to find girls to dance with.

A trio of Skyan cadets, who may have been partaking in some unauthorised liquors, approached Edwige. She had been sitting alone while her mother chatted seriously with an adult somewhere on the other side of the dance floor; Edwige could see her with her peaked cap in the crook of her arm.

‘Well hey there, I’m Garth — what are you doing here all by yourself?’

Over the years, the Skyan accent had blended into the Texan one and the leader of this trio had quite the Southern Texas drawl. The boys were dressed in white uniforms, but their lapels were adorned with a single circle rather than an established rank. They also didn’t have swords; they must have been cadets.

She had actually been looking at her bluePhone. When she had been interrupted, Edwige had been bent over the glowing screen, reading and responding to her friends’ most recent ‘chirps’ on the online microblogging service Chirrup. Her faintly freckled and vacation-browned breasts went white further within the bodice of her little trapeze dress; her hair had gone light-gold colour.

‘I’m not by myself...’ she said defensively, lifting her eyes at the guys. They too had gone light and waterlike.

Edwige decided against asking why they were all by themselves. At least she had a reason; she didn’t know anyone at this party, except her mum, and her uncle and auntie, and anyway she had only arrived in the country yesterday. What was their excuse?

Instead she just insisted: ‘I’m waiting; for... someone,’ she finished lamely. Unfortunately, ‘Garth’ didn’t seem to take the hint.

‘Well, I didn’t mean no offense ma’am — what’s your name anyway?’ said Garth. Behind him, his two buddies chuckled.

‘I’m Edwige Nalôrna,’ she said. Edwige spoke English clearly (clear enough for the drawling Southerners in Havensky), though with a heavy, lilting accent. ‘Glad to know you...’

The trio began to crack up, their consumption of liquor not helping their gentlemanly manners one bit.

‘Ed-widge? What kind of name is that?!’ guffawed Garth.

She looked at him coolly. Before Edwige could retort, a strong, deadly serious voice spoke from behind her.

‘Edwige... is the name of my date... cadets...

She turned to find the steel-blue eyes of First Lieutenant Gavin Squall looking down at the trio of cadets, who now visibly gulped at the presence of a ranking officer. Edwige had seen Gavin during the ceremony, but he had been wearing his helmet and face shield. Only now, without his helmet, did she notice his square jaw and short dark black hair. Even without the added height given by the power armour, his natural six foot three height caused him to tower over the cadets.

Edwige had to cover her mouth to hide her laughter as the cadets went from cocksure to terrified. Gavin offered his arm to her, giving her a nervous smile, and with only a slight hesitation she took it. He hadn’t actually asked Edwige to the dance, but it seemed like the most expedient way to get the rambunctious cadets away from what he thought to be a very beautiful girl.

He looked at the cadets again and put on his ‘in-charge’ face. He gave a slight sniff and looked down at the trio.

‘You three reek of tequila. I would advise you take your party elsewhere. I would do so quickly as my forgiving mood may not last the night.’

The three saluted as sharply as they could in their state and quickly marched away. Edwige could barely contain her laughter. Gavin turned to her.

‘I’m sorry about that. Please forgive my companions; they’ve been locked up in training for the past six months.’

‘Oh my Goddess, that was awesome,’ Edwige grinned. ‘Wow. Huh.’ Her eyes had begun to shine like they had at the ceremony; her finger idly wiped the sugar from the rim of her daiquiri.

‘And forgive me for...’ Gavin took a breath trying to think of the words, ‘forgiving me being forward about telling them you were my date.’

‘Um...’ Edwige said, and licked her finger. Her summer-light eyes were still ashine with intelligence and attention.

Gavin paused then realised how that may be taken out of context and quickly added: ‘Although, if nobody else is escorting you — I’d love the honour.’

‘Oh.’ Edwige’s eyes widened further. ‘Um, like, sure. Okay. I guess,’ she said, and her red thumbnail pleated and released the neck of her dress.

Fortunately, she had worn shoes for dancing, or rather shoes to be seen in for dancing; a pair of sheer lace, peep-toed ankle boots with four and three quarter inch heels. Edwige put her bluePhone in her little clutch and placed it with her mum’s things. Dórottya had left two leather portfolios with papers and a hard case on a nearby chair.

Gavin smiled and escorted her to the dance floor, taking his gloved hand into hers; her bracelets of wood and lacquer clashed. He spoke quietly to her, asking where she was from (‘Xirnium...’), about her hometown (‘The Anthèthath; you wouldn’t know it; it’s, like, way out in the countryside?’ she had said with the roll of the eyes that only a teenaged girl is capable of) and where she had travelled with her girlfriends to mark the end of the final year of senior school (‘We did Ambâlieva, Vardimëldë...’ She could remember every detail as vividly as she still felt the burn on her shoulders and the sweet tone of her muscles. ‘And then we spent a full week in Ængria! That was in-sane!’).

It turned out Gavin had already known about her mother’s visit. Not only did he know Lady Jessica, but was part of her new guard.

‘Wow. So, like, you must be like an “élite” soldier, huh?’ she said. ‘Oh my Goddess, are you superior to the legionnaires?’ Edwige breathed.

She had noticed the knight was treating her protectively. For him, she was little, delicate. She had cheeriness, inventiveness, brightness. He was heavy and serious. In his arms she felt secure.

They continued to dance, the knight and the Xirniumite girl in a pink dress, sun-tanned, with laughing eyes and long straight white-blonde hair, until they were interrupted by another knight in crimson.

‘Hey, it’s about time you got a girlfriend!’

The busybody smiled brilliantly and mischievously. His green eyes clashing with his short silver hair. Silver hair aside, he looked to be about the same age as Gavin. Upon looking a bit closer, Edwige noticed the slightest scar below the man’s right eye. His face told the history of hard knock life, but you’d never know it the way he smiled.

‘Tycho!’ Gavin shouted quickly as his face began to turn several shades red. Noticing Gavin’s embarrassment, Edwige shook her hair back from her face and squared her shoulders slightly, leaning back against his arm. The colour faded a bit as Gavin turned his head and looked at the clock.

‘Edwige, meet First Lieutenant Tycho Onyx — another one of Lady Jessica’s guards.’

‘Oh, hey. Like, do you outrank him?’ Edwige asked Gavin, all blonde bewilderment. ‘You were totally leading the ceremony before.’

‘I, well... not exactly, I mean...’

Tycho laughed. ‘She’s a smart one, Gavin,’ he winked.

‘I’m sorry to do this,’ said Gavin, ‘but I was supposed to relieve him a half hour ago. We’re on duty tonight you see.’

Tycho shook his head, placing a hand on Edwige and Gavin. ‘Don’t worry about it, Ariana had to get back to the helijet to get it prepped for the flight home.’ Still feeling mischievous, Edwige discretely shrugged Tycho’s hand away and made herself comfortable in Gavin’s arms. Tycho seemed to take it in stride; Edwige’s lips parted a little in a smile. ‘Sides, good to see you have a bit of fun Mr Serious.’

He turned back to Edwige and winked. ‘He hasn’t bored you to death with military tactics and history has he?’

‘Tycho...’

‘I’m kidding! I’m kidding. You two have fun. I’ve got to get back. Nice to meet you Edwige Nalôrna!’

And with that the crimson knight walked away again.

‘He seems nice,’ remarked Edwige.

‘Best friend a guy could ask for. You may have met his Ariana already. She’s Lady Jessica’s pilot. She’s also dating Tycho.’

‘So that’s how he knew my name. At least he’s not a stalker.’ Edwige laughed with a rippled which ran through her whole body, keeping her jewellery tinkling and her earrings mobile. ‘Oh, so if you’re, like, Aunt Jessica’s bodyguard or whatever, does that mean I’ll be seeing you around a lot?’ She tilted her head at an angle, in a sort of inviting gesture.

Gavin smiled widely. ‘I certainly hope so.’

He thought for a moment, then decided. He bent down ever so slightly to kiss Edwige.

She was startled at his daring! But he was handsome, and a knight, and she’d been drinking daiquiris, and nobody knew her here anyway, so... in a spirit of great adventure, her eyes staring into his, she kissed him back, and pushed her tongue against his.

Scrash-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!

The sound of glass shattering caused Gavin to instinctively draw his shield from his back and move it to cover Edwige. Alarms began to sound across the academy and people began to move everywhere all at once. Edwige screamed hysterically.

A most unwelcome guest had come to crash the party.
Last edited by Xirnium on Tue Dec 24, 2013 7:40 am, edited 6 times in total.

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Schultaria Prime
Envoy
 
Posts: 250
Founded: Mar 01, 2004
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Schultaria Prime » Mon Dec 23, 2013 3:42 am

SSS Atropos
Zivot Bay, Northwestern Milograd


As the noonday sun dipped lower and dusk cautiously approached, the normally turbulent seas of the bay quieted themselves - the small breakers and light winds that had whipped the freighter dying down with the noonday sun. The Atropos' crew, save for the small crew that were assigned to watch duty, would not have the good fortune of enjoying the day's calm seas. Then again, perhaps it was for the best. From miles out, the freighter's half-kilometer long hull seemed to cry out its plight. As the sun shone down to the bay's sparkling depths, the freighter seem to absorb all light in a mass of darkened, steely, stillness.

Beneath the decks, the Atropos was a cacophony of activity; workers and crewmen toiling ceaselessly underneath the reddish-orange din of battery-powered sodium lamps. Couched between aisles of shipping containers and strewn parts, Captain Dermott and the afternoon shift completed the autopsy of the ship's once mighty hearts. The crew strained with chains and winches, bereft of electrical power, to extract bent and mangled pistons the size of old-growth oak; a desperate attempt to seize what remaining power might be left in the ship's threadbare pulse. Bathed in a sea of ratty fuel oil and shaved metal, the crew were too dirty... too tired... to care about the world above.

Chief Engineer Murray Torvan slumped into the Captain's Chair, an alcove of placidity far removed from the chaos below decks. For nearly sixteen straight hours he had worked to try and squeeze what power he could out of the stricken craft, and his efforts had paid off in some small measures. The Atropos had made contact with a forward element of the Second Fleet, and a small detachment would be arriving in an hour or two to provide cover and, if necessary, a tug to safer harbors. Ever pragmatic, however, he tirelessly combed through the ship's plans to give the freighter a chance to limp home under its own power.

Well below the waterline, dozens of small thrusters encircled the ship. For a freighter as large as the Atropos they were a vital part of the navigation system - designed to push the freighter into harbors normally considered too narrow for a ship of her size. With a few adjustments, the thrusters could be cajoled into pushing the freighter back into the open sea and limping home, provided enough electrical power could be fed to them. While Captain Dermott and half of the crew struggled mightily to salvage what they could of the freighter's engines, the other engineers in charge set about to rewire the maneuvering thrusters for sustained use. Doing so required radical surgery to the ship's innards: circuit breakers and backup generators were shut down and rewired to provide the electrical motors with the energy necessary to break the Greater Gholgothic Ocean's notorious eastward currents. Exhaustive safety checklists meant shutting down the total electrical supply to the freighter's topside circuits. The navigational radar went dead and the ship's more powerful satellite radios fell ominously silent as the crew worked hard to move the ship to safer pastures, with or without the help from the Navy.

In a state of semi-consciousness, the Chief Engineer surveyed the sea for signs of the incoming Naval vessels. Training his eyes to the north, the placidity of the sea was hypnotic to the fatigued engineer. Far off in the distance, however, he could make the outline of a vessel. Pulling out a well-worn hardcopy of the Merchant Ship Guide and a set of binoculars, Torvan could readily make out the distinct outline of a Ramon-Class cruiser. Above it, however, a series of small black specks seemed to be darting around and past the vessel. Some appeared to be circling - others hovered lazily – but soon the small specks were growing and massing in the distance. Clutching the handset of the freighter's short-range emergency radio, he attempted to contact the ship:

”Unidentified vessel... Unidentified Ramon-Class vessel... This is the Schultarian State Freighter Atropos. We are dead in the water. Please respond on emergency band seven, over. Please respond on emergency band seven.”

A few seconds later, a scratchy reply:

”Atro... This i... SS Forvelts on emergency band seven. Experiencing communications diffi... with emergency radios. Possible jamming. We rec-”

As the radio cut out, numerous streams of red and yellow tracers streamed from the surrounding specks, bathing the water around the cruiser in an eerie phosphorescent glow. Plastered to his binoculars, Torvan thought he could see the cruiser raising its cannons, ready to engage the craft. Fatigue was replaced by fear and adrenaline as he made the connection that had formerly evaded his clouded judgment.

”Oh... Shit. That's one of ours! Awanyu, guide them safely.”
Last edited by Schultaria Prime on Mon Dec 23, 2013 1:45 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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The Kraven Corporation
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Founded: Apr 24, 2005
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby The Kraven Corporation » Mon Dec 23, 2013 1:17 pm

Havensky Military Academy
Crystal City, Havensky
Texas Region


The smash of glass was the first indication that something was wrong, it glittered in the evening lights of the Graduation Ball, its glittering effect making it look almost like ice forming on the otherwise pristine marble floor, some of the attendees in dress uniform turned, expecting to see a young cadet worse for wear, a spilled drink and broken glass at his feet, but instead they were greeted by the 'Tink, tink, tink' of a silver canister roughly twice the size of an average soda can, instantly the cadets knew it was a grenade, someone unseen screamed "Grenade" but instead of exploding, their was a hiss and vast gouts of white smoke spewed forth from the canister like some raging beast, the power of the propellant caused the canister to spin randomly and haphazardly across the floor, people started coughing and spluttering, before four more of these canisters were thrown expertly through the broken window, more smoke started to fill the room enveloping it with a thick acrid blanket...

The noise of more smashing glass filled the room, though this time whatever was breaking the glass was much larger, the distinct noise of combat boots landing firmly on marble added to the screams all around and faintly through the smoke, something scanned the room with a sinister red glow, the lights were suddenly cut, plunging the room into darkness, people screamed and ran, some were crushed in the stampede to flee the scene, while the Skyian Legionnaires began to make their defence, Gavin screamed some orders, hoping that somebody would hear his voice and rally around him, he was joined by several cadets and some legionaries that were stood nearby, they immediately formed up and tried to take stock of the situation...

People, mostly civilians trying to flee the scene, were greeted with locked doors, Outside someone or something had placed what appeared to be some chains around the door handles, the crumpled bodies of two guards lay on the floor, their throats cut with some kind of vicious blade, next to them dangled black ziplines whatever or whoever had done this had used these ziplines to kill them quietly and unseen, people screamed and turned back into the grand ball, they had no where to run to, some people had managed to escape out of a fire exit and were now running across the courtyard, there they saw some kind of craft with four large thruster engines tilting into a hover format, zip lines dropped from the main compartment followed by six soldiers, their eyes glowing red as they scanned the horizon, a gut feeling told them exactly who was now rappelling into the courtyard, but no one wanted to believe it, they just continued to run...

Back in the main hall, a strange silence had descended, people whimpered quietly, while the Skyian Legionnaires prepared for combat, Security burst into the main hall, shining torches into the gloom and seeing nothing but silhouettes and that strange red glow...

"Security, stay where you are, we are armed and prepared to use force"

There was some radio chatter, distinct radio chatter that certain people in the room knew instantly, Battle Language, Kraven. Battle. Language.


Within seconds the shooting started, The Wolf Brigade, Capitol Police Black Ops were the first to open fire, their marksmanship was like no other, three of the security fell within seconds, and now as the smoke began to clear, the scene unfolded for everyone to see, five hulking Troopers, their armour black, their weapons raised, their red glowing goggles scanning the hall way, they approached women, children and men alike, seemingly looking for someone in particular, they would dispatch a security guard only to grab a woman by the hair, drag her to one side and look at her, studying their faces for a moment before silently executing them with a round through the forehead, the noise was deafening, the Wolf Brigade were murdering people left and right, caring not who they were, people who ran away were cut down in gunfire bodies started to litter the grand hall...

Meanwhile, Outside more fighting ensued, one unit of Wolf Brigadesmen were in the Academy Dormitory, they were roving from room to room, executing any they found, students ran up the corridor, some still in their nightwear, each cut down in a burst of gunfire, leaving bullet holes in walls, some fought back, trying in vain to overcome these seemingly unstoppable monsters, but unarmed and unarmoured they stood little chance...

This was only the start of a night that many would never forget...
"If you want a vision of the future, Winston, imagine a boot stamping on a human face forever." - 1984
Scand: No one beats you Kraven for largest number killed a day.
Scand: Your nation is a glorified death camp after all.
Tiurabo: WTF Kraven.
Tiurabo: You are the last person who can tell me to be calm.
Tiurabo: You're a goddam psycho.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wT0uR5wB76M The Updated National Anthem of Imperial Fortress Reich
Resistance is Futile... We Are The Kraven Reich

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