The Season Turns (Telegram for Entry please)

[Hittanryan]

Harbourtown

The PKM gunner was one of the first to be fired on by the marksmen, still using nonlethal rounds. The grenadiers fired smoke rounds into the militia to obscure their view while the rest of them went to ground. They burst in the air, immediately enveloping much of the convoy in white fog. The MRAPs started backing away from the barricade, but they left the spike strips and razor wire behind to try to slow the militia if they advanced.

Swearing, Shi dove for cover as shots whipped past her. She switched the LRAD to its better-known function and aimed it into the smoke where the convoy was, away from the medics and away, inadvertently, from Joseph and Andrew. At less than 300 meters the high-pitched tone would have been thoroughly debilitating. "Dispatch, we are under fire! Use of nonlethal force met with lethal force!"

Just ahead, the medic had dove for cover. The first few smoke rifle grenades were accompanied by canisters hurled from the barricade, thick smoke billowing around them. The smoke hadn't come quite quick enough, however, as he felt something slam into his gut hard. Doubling over, his momentum carried him into an alcove. Gasping for air like a fish, he looked down at where he was hit. No blood, just a lot of pain. His body armor had stopped what almost certainly would have been a lethal wound.

"Sierra-2, can you get a shot on those vehicles? Over," Shi radioed to the helicopter.

After a brief pause, the pilot of the Black Hawk shouted back "Affirmative, Echo-3-5, if you keep popping smoke. Can you clarify our targets?"

"Disable the vehicles!" she shouted, another blind rifle round ricocheting off of one of the MRAPs.

The sharpshooter in the helicopter took aim at the vehicles' engines with an anti-material rifle. The round would have been enough to punch through a radiator or mangle an engine block. He was careful, however, to only take shots if there weren't many militia nearby. After taking a few shots, the helicopter moved out of the militias' line of sight, occasionally popping back up into partial view.

Word of attacks on other barricades started to come down the line. There were a few wounded in action, but Adiran use of aerial reconnaissance, airborne marksmen, LRADs, concealment smoke, flashbangs, and nonlethal ammunition allowed the scattered forces on the barricades to regroup or reorient. Some pulled back to reestablish barricades farther along the line. Others repositioned their defenses. Eventually Deaton was notified, who in turn contacted the Vice Ethnarch.

To: Vice Ethnarch Gamaliel
From: Mission Commander Deaton
Subject: Riots
Encryption: High

We have a potentially serious situation on our hands. Vyrsarian peacekeepers responded to a large-scale riot in the Psalmist District in which dozens were killed by armed crowds. After communicating to the crowd that they were to disperse, the rioters attacked the Vyrsarians with Molotov cocktails. Since they were met with lethal force, the Vyrsarians responded with nonlethal crowd control measures, rubber bullets and CS gas.

Apparently, the ETC interpreted the Vyrsarian measures as using lethal force. ETC militias unsanctioned by your government were observed organizing into convoys throughout the city. When peacekeeping forces attempted to intercept and negotiate with them, they were attacked. These peacekeeping forces are currently engaged with the militias; though lethal force has not yet been employed it may become necessary for the peacekeepers to defend themselves.

We must communicate to the ETC that the CPO is not a hostile foreign occupier as they have come to believe. If the situation in Harbourtown is this volatile, then it is vital that we create a system by which grievances may be aired and addressed publicly yet peacefully, whether it be hearings, open meetings, or local mediation between disputed parties.

Gen. Deaton

[New Edom]

War is Peace

Harbourtown

With loud bangs, the engine blocks were shot in trucks, and radiator fumes hissed up in clouds; recoiling from the powerful shots, ETC drivers thinking they were under attacked piled out to get away from the vehicles.

Smoke and sparking rounds going off added to the confusion; on naked skin rubber bullets were incredibly painful and people going down from them looked wounded in that confusion. Elder Brother Andrew was whisked to safety, Joseph left bleeding in the dust of the street. The PK gunners blazed away in response, one pausing to reload, his assistant gunner gritting his teeth like a scared monkey as they stood there, genitals shrinking in fear. One in the second truck had gone down hit by a rubber bullet marksman; another took his place and began to rake bullets around the rooftops, while a pair of skinny boys no more than fourteen or fifteen each grabbed an RPG and fired them off at the helicopter.

In his office, Vice-Ethnarch Gamaliel, sweating from bench pressing 450, of which he was extremely pleased, though he wanted to try to reach 500, was coming back in and reaching for a towel handed to him by his admiring assistant when another said, "Urgent message from General Deaton, Excellency..."

"Damn it, what does he want?" growled Gamaliel. He took the message in his massive hands and his brow furrowed. "What in the world...what's going on? Get me the Commandant on the phone! And thank the General for his message, tell him he will get a more complete reply later."

The Commandant however assured Gamaliel that he had not ordered any attack, but pointed out, "If our people are being attacked, part of their strength is acting on their own initiative as commando type groups, sir. How can you expect them not to respond to such insulting and aggressive behaviour?"

"Can you stop it?" Gamaliel demanded.

"...I'll try," said the Commandant, "But it won't be easy. I mean I'm stretched thin as it is. Thousands were sent into the countryside....well you know..."

Gamaliel considered and tersely said goodbye and hung up. "Inform General Deaton we will do our best," he told one of his aides. "And get me the Governor; we're going to call out the South...no wait, the Northern Brigade. Get me Colonel Shoen's people to the city."

Governor Tannach was glad to offer his support; speaking from no doubt the tranquil peace of the Prophet's home in Hillel, amid the garden and no doubt happily sitting on a prayer mat drinking goat's milk watching butterflies, Gamaliel thought with irritation, but at least he gave the green light. Colonel Shoen however would at earliest be able to have some motorized rifle companies in Harbourtown in three hours. Gamaliel thanked him with proper warmth and informed his aides: "Tell General Deaton we will supplement city security in three hours with motorized rifle units. In the meantime, let's issue general instructions to the militias to stop fighting and pull back."

He knew this wouldn't work, but he might as well say so, what harm did it do?

Salcah

Hutanjian attack helicopters thundered in the air about 2 klicks from the halted action still; at the not yet evacuated area of 3 villages the battle still raged on.

Fleeing capybaras and goats were gunned down by 30mm cannon fired by the AH-90, but also some insurgents were hit as well, the big rounds tearing into them and leaving them butchered heaps on the ground with the livestock, falling into the wet grass of the pasture.

Though the insurgents had managed to flee scuttling through a tall millet field, distracting flankers drawing enemy fire until they could get away, the helicopter was following and shadowed them like the very angel of death from above and was clearly moving in their direction.

Villagers wearing only capes or vests, straw hats and linen skirts and sandals fled screaming in fear as the battle raged on, running out of the way of a squad of insurgents moving and firing steadily as they went from one autocannon torn hut to a sturdier one blocked by a derelict truck they knew had no fuel to burn in it especially as it sat on wooden blocks. An RPG-22 and a LAIX Attero MANPADs fired at the helicopter from cover even as Yama-2 bore down on them and tore half them up with its thunderous chatter from the air; collapsing and twitching or simply lying still in instant death the naked painted insurgents lay there staring at the sky if they had eyes left.

Heshbon

Captain Shadrach Shobal and Lieutenant Kiron and the rest of "D" Company's officers had to assign watches and bed down to get some rest before starting the next day's operations.

"It was good talking to you Ion. Let's have the last details to go over and then...get some rest..." Shobal suggested.

20 2 1/2 ton trucks and 10 5 ton trucks would be assigned to help move people east into Monarchist controlled Bara, and would arrive by tomorrow. Fuel reserves would be brought with them.

Two companies of Marine Infantry supported by combat aviation from the 18th Mounted Light Infantry would provide a cordon of ambush and security for the evacuation operation. The villages were clearly delineated on the map. Each Ghantish company would be assigned a village. They were to be prepared to encounter resistance.

GENERAL EVACUATION ORDER

BY THE ORDERS of Her Royal Highness the Heir, for your safety and to avoid unnecessary shedding of civilian blood or loss of civilian lives, you are hereby to be evacuated from this zone of the disputed territory of Bara Province. You will be relocated in East Bara and compensated for any temporary loss of livelihood with useful and well paid equivalent work, and will be housed at the expense of the state.

Each person is permitted 25kg of personal property which will not include weapons or tools easily converted to weapons, and may include food items, books, cloth materials, or housekeeping materials. Livestock will be removed and taken to holding facilities, receipts given for them and returned or equivalent compensation returned for them when the peace has been restored.

Please cooperate with officials and military personnel designated to help in this temporary resettlement, and be sure to register any concern with said public or military officials.

May God preserve and protect Her Royal Highness the Heir and the Allied States of New Edom.

This message, being used all over the penninsula by Monarchist units or their allies, was a common one.

While a Ministry of the Interior official, Dr. Ezra Lapham, was in charge of this, Dr. Lapham was in Salcah and his subordinate officials were mostly administrative; the actual collection of evacuated persons was delegated to units of the IX Army Corps. In addition to this senior official, the newly appointed Director of Resettlement, there were also officials from the Ministry of Health and Education assigned to help. These were also in Salcah.

"I'm sure there's something I overlooked," Wendt told Alaric, "But I'll go over it all again tomorrow, I think that's it for me now. Phew! I need a bath, I must reek! And then bed..." she sipped the last of the wine and paid with coppers. There was a slightly grudging smile--the Ghantish nobles were in a way wrecking everything by paying too much for everything, so serving Royal Army officers wasn't what it had been. She smiled at Alaric Dain and said, "It was really lovely to meet you, Lieutenant Alaric Dain. I'm sure Lord Aldapa finds you invaluable to his staff..."

"Excuse me, Your Honour," said the innkeeper, approaching and bowing and smiling, wafting a not unpleasant smell of wine, garlic, and fish over them both, "But the Colonel's room, second floor, right front corner, is available now."

"Thank you," said Wendt with a smile. When he'd gone, she told one of her staff, "Go check it, make sure you spray the damn mattress. Well..." she got up and nodded to Alaric, stretching, her body outlining her t-shirt as it arched out, "I should get some rest..."

[Hittanryan]

Harbourtown

Between the smoke, the confusion, and the helicopter's movements, the RPGs streaked past the helicopter just as it popped back behind the rooftops. It essentially did its job, taking out vehicles and providing a distraction. Amidst the smoke, the medic, still fighting for breath, bolted back to the barricade, while the MRAPs moved onto side streets out of the militia's line of fire. Rooftop marksmen continued to pick off the machine gunners until the PK's focused on them instead. They shifted positions as machine gun fire sprayed wildly in an effort to suppress them.

Shi meanwhile put a message on repeat on the LRAD and on radio frequencies the UAVs had determined were in use by the militia. "Attention ETC militia, you have directly attacked CPO forces. So far we have responded with nonlethal force to this attack, rubber bullets only, but if you approach the next set of barricades, we will be authorized to use lethal force. Remember that we have not killed anyone. Remember that leaders like Brother Andrew are willing to summarily execute their own men without trial."

Once most of the technicals were disabled, Shi gave the order to fall back. The MPs' grenadiers launched more rifle grenades into the convoy, this time flashbangs. Even if the militia pursued, they'd have to get through the razor wire and other obstacles. Rooftop marksmen rappelled down the far sides of the buildings. Staging a fighting retreat from the razor wire and spike strips, the MPs boarded their MRAPs and sped off. With UAVs keeping track of any additional militia convoys, the trucks could outrun the militia on foot. A few blocks down from these first barricades, MPs were constructing more substantial defenses with crash barriers, razor wire, and, if there were no civilians in the area, Claymore mines on remote triggers.

Meanwhile, Deaton was keeping busy. More of the Black Hawks were taking off, this time with door-mounted machine guns, along with two Apache gunships that hadn't yet left for Salcah. Buzzards were also taking off from the carrier, fitted with radio jamming pods. No one was expecting the militia to stop.

[Jedoria]

Near Gloria Regis

"Detachment Alpha" was the designated name for the Internal Security forces that were set to arrive in Gloria Regis within the next hour. There were three hundred and twenty of them, all taken from the Capital Division of the Department. All of them had been assigned their own small arms, mostly BXP sub-machine guns, Vektor SP1 handguns, Armsel Strikers, and even some Galils.

But most of all they carried knowledge. Many of them were former screeners for IntSec, who's job in the department was to make sure new recruits were actually fit to be there. They had to handle all aspects of the job, not just pulling over speeders or ticketing hooligans. No, it meant dealing with bank robbers, murderer's, rapists, sex offenders, the worst scum bags the human race had to offer. Many of the agents were from inner city patrol units, well prepared for stressful and high stake situations.

They were split up into separate flights but all would arrive by the end of the day. Tomorrow their equipment was due to arrive, radios, manuals and books on law and order, and of course, Mamba Armored Personnel carriers, mostly of the Nyala variant. They would be a perfect fit for the situation in Gloria Regis. Once the lead plane began it's descent, the Jedorian leader, Daniel Pușcaș, stood ready to meet anyone sent to greet the Jedorians.

[Ghant]

"Under the Stars"
Heshbon, Bara Province, New Edom

The night was advancing upon Heshbon, and the next day would bring with it the fruits of their venture, be they as they might. "It was good talking to you Ion. Let's have the last details to go over and then...get some rest..." Shobal suggested. He and Kiron and the rest of "D" Company's officers had to assign watches and bed down to get some rest before starting the next day's operations. Which didn't seem like a bad idea, as the hour was late.

"That sounds like a good idea," Ion said as he and Aldapa sat around and went over the details. Ion learned from the planning session that twenty 2 1/2 ton trucks and ten 5 ton trucks would be assigned to help move people east into Monarchist controlled Bara, and would arrive on the morrow. Fuel reserves would be brought with them for good measure.

Two companies of Marine Infantry supported by combat aviation from the 18th Mounted Light Infantry would provide a cordon of ambush and security for the evacuation operation. The villages were clearly delineated on the map. Each Ghantish company would be assigned a village. They were to be prepared to encounter resistance.

Then there was the message to be sent out, which Ion promptly read.

BY THE ORDERS of Her Royal Highness the Heir, for your safety and to avoid unnecessary shedding of civilian blood or loss of civilian lives, you are hereby to be evacuated from this zone of the disputed territory of Bara Province. You will be relocated in East Bara and compensated for any temporary loss of livelihood with useful and well paid equivalent work, and will be housed at the expense of the state.

Each person is permitted 25kg of personal property which will not include weapons or tools easily converted to weapons, and may include food items, books, cloth materials, or housekeeping materials. Livestock will be removed and taken to holding facilities, receipts given for them and returned or equivalent compensation returned for them when the peace has been restored.

Please cooperate with officials and military personnel designated to help in this temporary resettlement, and be sure to register any concern with said public or military officials.

May God preserve and protect Her Royal Highness the Heir and the Allied States of New Edom.

Apparently, messages such as this were being used all over the peninsula by Monarchist units or their allies. Aldapa certainly approved. "The plan in principle seems rather sound. All of these villages seem like they could be used by the ETC for shelter or for recruits. By stripping the people from these parts, we can potentially handicap the ETC."

"Exactly, and the ETC knows that," Ion countered. "This can be done, but there will probably be some fighting in order to accomplish it. Swamp folk just don't up and leave because someone with a piece of paper tells em too."

"Yeah, well, if they know what's good for em they will comply easily and not put up too much of a fight," Lord Aldapa proclaimed.

Shit's never that easy...clearly you don't know what it's like out in the back country with the smallfolk, Ion thought. It was never as simple as showing up with an order to move. People do not like to move. People do not like change. "In any case, best rest well and be prepared for the morrow," Ion said as he put out his cigarette. "I am going to go outside for a bit and get some fresh air," he told them as he got up and went outside.

ooooooo

The food was good...mussel stew and wine that made Alaric's throat tingle. Wendt was pleasant company...intelligent, thoughtful, beautiful. Alaric didn't doubt that she would go on to achieve great things in life, if only because the world couldn't hold back a woman of such exceptional quality.

"I'm sure there's something I overlooked," Wendt told Alaric, "But I'll go over it all again tomorrow, I think that's it for me now. Phew! I need a bath, I must reek! And then bed..." she sipped the last of the wine and paid with coppers. She smiled at him and said, "It was really lovely to meet you, Lieutenant Alaric Dain. I'm sure Lord Aldapa finds you invaluable to his staff..."

"Excuse me, Your Honour," said the innkeeper, approaching and bowing and smiling, wafting a not unpleasant smell of wine, garlic, and fish over them both, "But the Colonel's room, second floor, right front corner, is available now."

"Thank you," said Wendt with a smile. When he'd gone, she told one of her staff, "Go check it, make sure you spray the damn mattress. Well..." she got up and nodded to Alaric, stretching, her body outlining her t-shirt as it arched out, "I should get some rest..."

"Indeed, Colonel. It was lovely to meet you as well, and I wish you a good rest and pleasant dreams," he told her as he rose to his feet, inclined his head and took her hand in his to plant upon it a gentle kiss. "Until next time." With that, Alaric smiled and walked away, heading outside to get some fresh air.

Outside, he came upon Ion standing in solitude, looking up at the stars. Apparently he sensed someone was approaching. Ion nodded, and scratched his chin. “Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light, for I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

Alaric nodded as he came to stand beside Ion. With a smile, he said, "you didn't strike me as the poetic type."

Ion laughed at that. "What did I strike you as, pray tell? Just another ruffian?"

"...No...I didn't mean it like that," Alaric shook his hands as his eyes grew wide. "I just mean that you are a ranger and all. A gritty realist."

"Relax boy," Ion said with a chuckle. "I ain't going to bite," he told him as he continued to look at the sky. "Funny how the stars are not so different here than they are in Ghant. We all live and die under the same sky."

"...They say in Gauekoizarra that all of the stars in the sky represent a great hero or champion, whose deeds were so great as to earn them eternity in the afterlife," Alaric said thoughtfully. "My mother told me anyway." Alaric paused for a moment, and then continued. "Do you think Perrin is up there, somewhere?"

"I think if we all knew the answer to what stars were who, that would ruin the awe and mystery of them," Ion said with a shrug. "Although there are plenty of people that would tell you that they are all merely large, burning balls of gas deep in the vastness of space."

"I think there might be some Dains up there. Like Daros and Abelar, to name a few," Alaric spoke proudly.

Ion seemed peeved about something. "...Let me guess. Solara the Sanguine, Uldar the Hammer, the Golden Knight and Ozara. All great heroes and champions. All Lords." Ion said.

Alaric gulped. "...Well, they bore famous names..."

"Famous names...yes. Were their deeds so great on their own accounts, or only because of who they already were at the time? How many lowborn heroes do you think there have been over the millennia, forgotten by the world and lost to the annals of time?"

The Dain lordling thought long and hard about that, as he pondered the stars. "Beyond count, I would venture to assume."

"Probably so," Ion said, pointedly. "They weren't concerned about glory, honor or songs. They fought because some lord put a sword in their hand and said 'go fight for me or be branded a traitor'. Or they fought to protect their families, their lands...their meager existence. Glory, honor...songs, legends. All that shit is for the lords to gloat over. They always get all the dues on the backs of us lowborn folk."

"...Why are you telling me this?" Alaric asked, a bit beside himself.

"Because the world is different now, Alaric Dain," Ion said almost sadly. "This is the twilight of the ages of great heroes. This no world for highborn virtues. Nobody cares about songs and stories of great knights and champions of justice and honor. If you want to survive out here, you need to remember that," he told him with a hand on his shoulder. "I saw that Lieutenant-Colonel Wendt. Pretty girl, and of great value, that I do not doubt. But don't go and do something stupid to impress her. I don't want to sent Lord Bolvar his eldest son and heir back to him in a bag because he was trying to be a hero."

"...What do you know about being a hero?" Alaric snapped back at him. "You don't even know who your father is...who your ancestors were! So how can you presume to lecture me?"

"Because none of that shit matters. What somebody did before I was born has no bearing on what I do today. I live my own life, my own way. I am a survivor, boy. I have been in some shitty situations over the years. I concerned myself with doing what needed to be done and staying alive. What I was going to eat that night, where I was going to sleep, how I was going to stay warm. I want to see this shit through, and see you back home. Because you are one of the good ones, Alaric Dain. Not one of those lords who prays upon the weak because they are strong. And I will be fucking damned if you get yourself killed because you want a place among the stars. Stop trying to be a hero. Just try to do to the right thing. And let history judge you for what you were worth." As he finished, Ion began to shuffle off into the night.

"And how will history remember you, Ion?" Alaric asked, feeling a sense of lamentation.

Ion turned around, shifting his shoes in the dirt. "It won't, but that's ok. I don't need to be motivated by the potential for glory and legend to do the right thing. I do what needs to be done because it is what is necessary. Seeing that it is done is it's own reward." Ion smiled and then faded away into the night.

Alaric watched him leave, as he rubbed the sweat from his skin. He pondered long and hard the meaning of those words as he grew tired, and before he went to get ready for bed. The young Dain looked up at the stars again, and searched them for some hidden meaning. He thought about what Ion said to him, and he considered his perspective. From that, he contemplated something. We are all the same, Under the Stars.

[New Edom]

Sixington Airport, Gloria Regis

A navy band lifted their instruments as the steps were put to the plane at the airport, and an honour guard of sailors in full dress marched neatly to form a row, and at a sharp "right turn!' turned and brought their boots down with a sharp stamp.

The Jedorian police, as they began to emerge, were greeted by hundreds of happy looking citizens (gathered by the Party) with a large banner like the Jedorian flag, and applause and cheers, as the band broke into For He's a Jolly Good Fellow. "Present--arms!" shouted the naval officer on duty; the sailors did, crashing boots down as rifles were presented.

"We'll have to change the lyrics," said Theodora with a smile as she applauded, to a smiling and nodding group of city officials including Martha and Julianna if they wished to be there, and then stepped forward while a little girl with a garland of flowers followed. Theodora wore a green chiton that bared her athletic arms and legs, her hair up in a neat elegant bun revealing the strong proud lines of her face.

"Daniel Puscas, on behalf of the people of Gloria Regis," said Theodora, "Welcome to Sixington. We hope that you will enjoy your stay here. We are very grateful. I am Theodora Ferrovius, the Minister of Justice, and you will be working closely with my office..."

The little girl presented the garland of flowers and said winsomely, "On behalf of our grateful citizens I present you with these flowers of welcome." The flowers were crocuses and hyacinths.

[Novitera]

Myazaki's Column

Seeing there was nothing left to do here, the Noviterans piled back into their working vehicles. Cramped due to the wounded, dead and equipment they had confiscated from their attackers. With UAVs overhead they raced back to Saint Joseph making no stops and arrived just before the sun went down. Medical personnel were already waiting. The groaning wounded were taken out on stretchers to be given care at the field hospital. Along with the dead who were placed on the ground outside the billets. Noviterans soldiers looked on taking off their hats at the horror. Eight dead bodies lay on the ground, some disfigured by RPG blasts. Miyazaki, exhausted, stepped out of the stryker and through his helmet to the ground. Walking over to a nearby wall, he collapsed with his back to it and lit up a cigarette. Larkin and his XO Bowers were looking at the bodies.

"We need to rethink our strategy. No more long range vehicle patrols. We can't properly recon an area by air apparently. These bogs provide too well of a cover." He said

Bowers nodded. "We'll send more forward observers into the field. Rangers, ghillie suits and thermal imaging. The works. And I'll have the troops go around door to door to question the locals for more intel." He said.

"Make sure they mind their manners. I don't want Harbourtown's fiasco spreading here." Larkin ordered.

Blackhawk Survivors

In the night, the three moved on. Using NVGs, they were able to keep aware of their surroundings. It was hard to listen for sounds as the bogs came alive with the sounds of insects. Luckily Aikens had DEET spray in his pack which proved lifesaving. Now would be the worse time to come down with some fly transmitted sickness. Sometimes there was a rustle of bushes or splash of water that caused them to drop low and wait. Usually it turned out to be an animal. They tried to stay out of the deeper water when Jones had a close call with a crocodile. He saw it at the last moment and fired a few round in panic, causing the creature to run. Cursing, the gunshots which could have revealed their position the group hastened to get away. The little mud puddles were treacherous too. All of them had already fallen in a deep one and had to be pulled out by the others.

Sweating and tired after hours of traveling, the three took a break. Kneeling low in the reeds, they all faced outward to keep watch in the night. "Alright, take a few sips of water and have one of your protein bars." Aikens ordered in a low voice. They only had so much clean water on them and drinking the bog water would mean certain death. All were wet, muddy and tired but alert. If it were not for the bogs, the rains would come and go soaking them from above. At least it was an opportunity to drink from the sky and not use up what they had in their canteens. Each time they tried to collect whatever few drops fell in though it would not be enough. "There's a village nearby. Close enough to Saint Joseph to be supported by heavy mortars and the cleared out farmlands make it difficult to hide. Shouldn't be any hostiles there. Convoy is going to rendezvous with us at 0900. Plan to be there the same time as them." He said.

[New Edom]

Blackhawk Survivors

The Sugar Rats moved quietly through the marsh in the night, following a trail partly with NVG but also with their own well developed senses; they preferred not to rely on artificial light unless they really needed it for map reading or detail work. Instead, they relied on what their ancestors had--their sense of the land, of how the grasses grew in the hummocks, the direction of slow subtle currents, the noises of night animals, the scents on the breeze.

Their ancestors had imitated the wading of Griffons and herons, the swimming of crocodiles, the patience of predatory frogs and lizards. Moving in close patterns, weapons at the ready, two of them with powerful crossbows taken from their armoury for silent killing if need be, they kept in touch with two of their tame insurgency units telling them that they needed to hunt the survivors of the helicopter.

The two Militia units that had been called in could largely be trusted to act resourcefully, but they had taken heavy losses from their encounter earlier, and Boogus had a feeling that they were suspicious. They would have to do this themselves. He was almost inclined to let it go but for the need to prove their sincerity.

Then luck came to him; a burst of automatic rifle fire. "There," muttered Yeg in the dark, nodding like a pointer dog.

A little later, Boogus knelt at a patch of crushed marsh grass and reeds and where thick clay like mud was flattened and slick, and found a boot print on the other side. He smiled; they found a wounded crocodile and cautiously killed it to end its misery.

"Well done, Bully," Boogus said, barely doing more than breathing the words to Yeg. "We are well on the trail."

[Blackhelm Confederacy]

Harbortown,
New Edom

The initial meeting with the End Times Church, more commonly referred to as the ETC in most parts of the world that cared to read about them, was friendly, although rather odd. The Venatores' homeland of the Blackhelm Confederacy was not a place most would consider prude in terms of sexual mores or dress, but this going around wearing only paint on their bodies, well most of the men in the group initial thought it was for the birds. Making things even stranger was their new hosts almost rabid hatred of fornication outside of marriage or homosexuality. One would assume that a nation so open with their privates might have a bit more leeway when it came to sex, but this was apparently not the case in this land. Even more peculiar, or perhaps just as much, was the idea that arousal was not seen as anything more than a natural function, and it was perfectly normal to see a few men rock hard moving through the city, but once they acted on it...well heaven help them. Within a few days, however, the initial uneasiness of constant nudity began to wear off, and the men were starting to fit right in with the rest of their comrades, and once they arrived at their final destination in ETC strongholds throughout the country, they quickly set to work interviewing field commanders to try to ascertain which militiamen might make the best soldiers to take in for training. Once found, the new recruits would be briefly interviewed and, if selected, sent off to a training camp at a militia barracks in each city. Each day would be relatively the same for them. They would wake up, attend a prayer service, have breakfast, head out to the training ground, pray some more, eat, train some more, pray again, eat again, train a bit more, pray again, then call it a day and get ready to wake up and repeat the process over again.

The Venatores had been impressed by the militia almost from the start, as each of the men under their ward had proven themselves to be a competent soldier, well versed in the use of their weapon. This was, of course, a bit of a surprise to the Confederate team, who were used to building rag tag militias into at least a semi-competent fighting force, and then finding out that the ETC men knew how to effective track, hunt, and survive in the wilderness served as an additional treat and only reinforced the respect the special operations personnel had for the men they would soon be fighting alongside. The only real bit of work that had to be but into training was in how to effectively use the multiple rocket launchers that had been smuggled in, but even this went smoothly.

Of course, the Venatores were not just there to teach their Edomite friends how to clean their guns and shoot, however. One of the most important areas, the one focused on each day for hours at a time, were was that of tactics. Ambush tactics, effective small unit cooperation, force multipliers, the whole nine. These areas were stressed over and over, adding to the training that the men had already had from their own military experience. In a few short weeks, the group of ETC personnel under the eye of the Venatores would begin to transform from an already excellent light infantry formation to a much more elite one, using tactics and strategies that were well honed by the Confederacy thanks to their decades of modern warfare experience in all manner of environments around the globe.

And now, now the men would finally be able to act. Troops from several nations were starting to move into Harbortown and had the ETC outnumbered and outgunned. It would only be through excellent training and an in depth local knowledge of the area that the religious warriors could hope to possibly repel such a determined march, and with the training imparted by the Venatores, many were confident that they now had just what it would take to carry the day.

Elite personnel were now dispersed throughout the city, sniping, laying traps, setting ambushes, and engaging in firefights with handpicked ETC troopers by their sides. Two Venatores, Claudius Greenarrow and Marius Fiveriver, were sent to Harbortown with a few others while the rest of their comrades scattered throughout ETC held territories. They had been training militiamen in the warehouse turned barracks in the docks district for almost two weeks before the pair hand picked the finest of the radical recruits available to them and formed a small hit squad that was even now moving steadily through the city. Their first mission, to test the mettle of the men they had spent their time on during the last few weeks, was a relatively simple one. They would move out to the main road between Heshbon and Tyrannis NAS and lay in wait. Their target was a 9th Marine Infantry patrol that was observed making its rounds in the area, not a particularly important target, nor a very heavily armed one, but one good enough to serve this purpose. And so it was, the team spread out in the cover of darkness, waiting eagerly to get their first kicks in at their new enemy. By judging how well the team performed in this mission, the Venatores would then decide how to, or if they would even be able to, make their next move.

[Jedoria]

Sixington Airport, Gloria Regis

"Look alive." Was the phrase passed down the line to the disembarking Jedorians as they left the cool interior of the 757 and stepped into the sun and heat of Gloria Regis. They were greeting by quite the welcoming committee, far more than they had ever experienced back home. Once again, Jedorians were surprised by what their presence meant to the local populace. It was overwhelming, surprising, and certainly ego-stroking.

Daniel Pușcaș led the senior members of the detachment, and the District Commander, having spent four years in the air force, knew enough of Jedorian military custom to respond to the naval entourage with a fine salute of his own. Most of the other Jedorians simply stared back at the various civilians, sailors, and significant individuals arrayed around them. Why did nobody bother to tell them about these kinds of things? Now they all just looked like deer in the headlights.

Nevertheless, Pușcaș strode forward, confident in his Internal Security uniform of gray and black, and shook Theodora's hand vigorously. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I look forward to getting down to business." As a father of two daughters and a son, Pușcaș couldn't help but feel his heart melt when the little girl presented him the flowers, which he took delicately so he could inhale the scent. "Well..." He struggled, momentarily overcome by the sheer emotion of the scene. "...thank you, Miss."

Once he settled himself down after a minute, Pușcaș returned his attention to Theodora. "Minister, I must say this is quite the welcome. If I may inquire, where will our HQ be at? I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with Sixington. However, as soon as we get settled, my people and I are ready to get to work."

[New Edom]

The Roads to Heshbon

The ETC

Elder Brother Bardo, commanding the Intelligence and Recon Company of the Theocratic Republic's Southern Brigade, was lean hard headed man in combat camouflage paint who was a veteran of the Anarchist Insurgency, where he had led a platoon of light infantry. He had a number of well healed scars on his body, the hard backside and belly of a youth half his age. His accent was strong but his words carefully elocuted; Bardo had often been in cities over the last years but had grown up without running water, electricity or modern communications.

Meeting with the Venatore advisers and the unit of their trainees, he and his subordinates gave a briefing.

"First: the land. We're dealing with the same salt marsh terrain that is along all this part of the Baran coast. You can anticipate shifting bogs, tall grass and reeds, pools of varying depth from a few centimeters to meters in depth enough to sink a vehicle. Nearly all roads have to be reinforced; while there are large dry patches it can flood readily. Roads are reinforced by gravel and sand embankments for the smaller ones; the Coast Road, the main four lane highway, is reinforced by concrete poured over that. There is a reinforced rail line parallel to it."

"The land has served us well. Few of the foreign units either with the CPO or with the Monarchists like it off road; they're not used to it and don't have the craft of the land, you see. The Monarchists on the other hand have units--Rover Team (Special Forces) units which are recruited from the feudal subjects of the Monarchists of the eat and who hate this region; they are brutal, tough and cunning. Well we'rel not likely to catch many of them napping, so we're going to focus on making it hard for the enemy to evacuate our villagers. That's our grand strategy.

"The units we're focused on here are the 9th Marine Infantry Regiment and the 18th Mounted Light Infantry. The 9th are mechanized infantry with some heavy weapons, engineers and artillery attached. They're tough but they're assault troops so I figure that we should be able to draw them into ambush. The trouble is we have to really hit and run--Monarchist air patrols are frequent, and so our best bet is to hit them right around the even mark between Heshbon and Tyrannis," he pointed a blunt thick hard finger at the map. "That way our own air patrols out of Tyrannis can challenge theirs enough that a swift response by air is unlikely, given the last couple of skirmishes. The other danger is artillery from the attached battery and their mechanized mortar company, so again--let's keep it closer to Tyrannis when we hit them, for now."

"Patrols around the villages at the line of division usually consist of a squad with two vehicles--land rovers or APCs--using a reinforced road while the main body are disembarked and moving on foot in a skirmish line on either side of the roads. They often have 18th helicopter borne flights doing a bounding overwatch from the air--two TH-300 Lakotas carrying a full platoon of Mounted Light Infantry, one AH-77 Cannondale Attack helicopter. Our intel out of Heshbon is that there are likely to be evacuations of our ETC friendly villagers near Heshbon soon. If you would like to attack the Marine Infantry patrols, that will give them something to think about."

The Monarchists

Lieutenant Kiron wrote a letter to his mother, in Fineberg, telling her what he was sure she'd prefer to hear rather than how things really were. Not that they were in his opinion all that bad. He'd certainly had worse. In the billet he shared with the other company officers, he heard one of the platoon commanders coming in having relieved another on watch, greeting him but letting him write. His radio buzzed and he paused in his writing; one of his NCOs was telling him that they had been asked to provide illumination. In the distance he heard the sharp staccato of small arms fire. Unalarmed, he requested information, and was told that it was a brief encounter with an ambush team sent out by 3rd Platoon. "Give them three rounds of ILLUM and then see if they need further, contact me if they do," he said, and then went back to writing. The comforting hollow thump in the distance of mortars going off, and he glanced out the window and saw the pale remote moving light as the rounds, each spaced nearly a minute apart, lit up the landscape; then flashes and flares, booms of grenades and assault rifle fire.

"The bareasses never give up," complained the platoon commander who'd just come in, shaking his head as he lit up a cigarette. "How's a fellow supposed to sleep?"

Kiron grinned; his radio buzzed and he answered. "Bronze-2 here," he said.

"Bronze-2 this is Bronze-1, ambush team reports mission accomplished, ending fire mission."

"Understood," replied Kiron. He suddenly felt very tired, but forced himself to finish the letter so it would be ready to mail the next day.

Captain Shadrach Shobal watched a spider crawling just within the range of his bedtime reading light, and waited to see if it was moving on or planning on staying. It was a long legged black spider with a body the size of one of his fingernails. It paused in its delicate advance across the wall, freezing as they sometimes did, its visible clawlike mandibles working a little. He blinked, and the spider was suddenly rapidly moving away. He settled back to his reading.

10 Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.

11 Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.

12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

13 Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.

14 Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness;

15 And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace;

16 Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.

17 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God:

18 Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints;

19 And for me, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the gospel,

He closed the book and looked up at the cracked damp spotted ceiling and his mind drifted slowly into sleep.

Lieutenant-Colonel Sarah Wendt had finished talking to General Romain on a coded satellite facetime via their satellite. Secretly a cubesat link with five of the small satellites had been established to do an end run on the corrupted one that they knew was still giving information to General Benajah's people. Oversee operations. Always the dirty work for an Anglo-German, especially a woman. The Barans and Cornellians were assured of rank as long as they showed any merit at all. Even harder for her--her beauty a curse and a blessing both.

She stripped out of her uniform and laid everything out carefully, turned on the little fan and stepped into the tiny box of the shower, which looked like it had seen much better days. It was one of the few rooms that had one in the inn. Barely enough room to turn. She washed with a liquid harsh soap issued by the army, then after rubbed an olive oil based moisturizer on as she walked back into the light, hair sleeked back, the breeze through the screen on her window delicious at last. She rubbed the cream into her shoulders, arms, her belly and bosom, and put one foot and then the other on a stool to do the same with her legs, and her rump curves. Yawning, she went and lay down on the bed and thought of Romain's words.

I trust you to oversee this operation and make sure it is done properly. In this you are the extension of my will.

Blasphemously she thought, Your will be done then which she had not quite dared to say; Romain was notoriously conservative, perhaps in an effort to outdo male rivals. Smiling, she closed her eyes.

[New Edom]

Sixington, Gloria Regis

The friendliness and honest emotion shown at the receipt of the flowers was noted with smiles by onlookers, who applauded again.

"We hope we didn't embarrass anyone; we are a demonstrative people, we like to show our hearts on our sleeves," explained Theodora. She was glad they'd sent a man--perhaps that would put paid to the ridiculous notion that she wanted to establish a gynocracy just because she wanted to redress historic wrongs to women...


As they made their way in a green SUV in a small convoy away, Theodora rode with Daniel and other leaders of both the Ministry and the Jedorian police so she could talk to them on the way.

"We have set you up in the former Bank of Velites, which went under due to corruption charges. But I believe it will be perfect for your needs; it is a very solidly built building, with excellent internet and phone lines set up, good electrical wiring and it is quite secure with good lines of sight around it. I think there is ample space inside, including offices, conference rooms, a large lobby area, and storage areas as well as a courtyard surrounded parking lot that could be used for a motor pool," said Theodora. She made a face as someone stepped out of the crowd along the street and threw something unidentifiable but nasty that smeared the windshield.

"We're not universally popular," she admitted. "The NWP and Intellectuals are fearful of the future. We hope that a genuinely meritocratic non partisan police force in Sixington may help change their minds. I wondered if you had, off the cuff, some idea of strategies for recruitment that might help make our intentions well known?"

[Novitera]

Blackhawks Survivors

The UAV, flying silently monitoring the survivor's progress in the night spotted the approach of the Sugar Rats. It relayed the information to Aikens who controlled the radio and he cursed silently. "Down, contacts close by!" He said harshly but quietly. All three of them dropped to their stomachs, weapons at the ready. "Briden! They should be at your 2. Can you see them?" Rising steadily out of over the reeds, he had set his ACR aside to look through the night vision scope.

"I see a few. But the shrubs are too tall in some areas." He replied. They all turned in that direction while keeping low.

Aikens heart was pounding but he was determined to remain calm. If he were to guess, the other two Rangers with him were in a similar state of mind. "Artillery?!" Asked Jones, a worried look on his face.

"Maybe. They might be too close." Aikens replied with a pondering look on his face. "Get ready. We are going to fight." He decided grimly. The other two turned to him, looking at him like he was insane. "We can't get away fast enough in these bogs. Running is too hard and too dangerous. They followed our trail this far. Only a matter of time before they find us. We got the drop on them now. We fight." Getting on the radio, he told command that this was what they were doing and assured them there was no other way to avoid it. Howitzer crews for the M119s were being awaken right now to prepare.

"What about the rules of engagement? Can we just start shooting them?" Asked Briden

"Fuck the rules of engagement. They've made it quite clear how they feel about the CPO and Noviterans. And what else are they creepin around in night for? Spread out. Jones, you and I will draw their fire away. Briden, you pick them off with that EBR." He had already attached a suppressor to the weapon. "And these shrubs will make it easy to flank us so make sure you're aware of your surroundings. When I give you the go, you start picking them off as best you can Briden." The man nodded seriously. Once Aikens was satisfied they understood how to proceed he looked at each of their faces. "If we don't make it out of here, I'll see the both of you in hell." He said. Soon enough Jones and Aikens put back on their NVGs and moved away at a crawl taking up positions to the left and right of the marksman.

Briden zeroed in on a man in the rear when Aikens gave the order over the comm. He went for the kill, aiming for the head and firing off a round. Bursts of single shot gunfire followed from Aiken's and Jones's ACRs who fired from kneeling positions due to the reeds obscuring their vision.

[New Edom]

New Edomite National News Report

Opening bars of Pictures at an Exhibition play as a globe spins with pins popping up on various points of the world. Split screen images of natural disasters, celebrations, military actions, elections, royal ceremonies, celebrity events are showin, occasionally with New Edomite news anchors talking about them, and then fades to a news desk.

A raven haired woman with olive skin, dark brown eyes with a rosebud mouth, a slim nose and a statuesque figure sat behind a news desk with the New Edomite flag imposed over a silhouette map of the Allied States of New Edom behind her. “Good evening,” she said, looking up with a smile. It was clear that above the waist at least she wore nothing but a gold cross on a chain, though her image was pixelated for those nations censoring such an appearance. “I’m Lavinia Tuller, and this is a NENN news report.

"In Harbourtown, riots by End Times Church and Free Congress activists continue to prevent people from being able to register to vote for other political parties. National Wisdom Party leader Dr. Marius Campion remains besieged at his party HQ in Psalmist District."

Images show crowds with kerchiefs on their faces waving torches, machetes and clubs, running in and out of smashed doors of shops, running across a public square, camera shaky as it tries to follow them. Black smoke pours out of a shopfront window with smashed glass.

Gravely, Lavinia Tuller said, "It remains up in the air whether or not it will be possible to hold elections as the government has assured people due to the ongoing hostility of the rebellion which claims the existence of a Theocratic Republic."

"In other news in Bara Province, the National Army has continued to evacuate civilians from areas troubled by insurgency. However rather than allowing the army to evacuate citizens, the rebel insurgents continue to stage attacks and raids, the most recent having taken place near Heshbon and Salcah."

Image shows flashes of ground to air missile attacks on a helicopter flight; an attack helicopter flashing with countermeasures, and then a tank and two APCs coing under fire a they approach what seems to be an abandoned half ruined village.

"Rebel leaders continue to deny any connection to any of these attacks and claim that they are quite willing to prepare for negotiations which are to take place in Puerto Rojo in the Republic of Adiron as soon as a cease fire is clearly established by foreign peacekeepers from the CPO."

Camera shows large C-5 airlifters unloading soldiers and equipment with foreign uniforms and headgear at Harbourtown's National Airport

"In Gloria Regis Protectorate, while things are generally more peaceful, there were two incidents this week involving shootings between Feminist Collective Party militia and sentries from the National Army Base, where General Zadok Hesperinus' forces continue to be under seige from the rebel fleet. With no peacekeepers in sight to help with the handover and mediation, the situation continues to be tense. Prince Elijah Shalmaneser, the Regent, has announced his intention to visit Gloria Regis to help smooth things over."

Camera shows the tall, olive skinned Regent in naval uniform standing at a podium. "I have decided to go to Gloria Regis to help smooth things over."

A journalist among others raising a hand says, "Prince Elijah, can you elaborate on what you intend to do?"

Prince Elijah, deadpan, replies, "No," and leaves.

"I...and that's all we have from the Regent, who intends to visit Gloria Regis. Among the key issues with discussion of independence of the Protectorate are the handover of capital ships whose crews and officers mutinied last month back to the National Navy, and discussion of the fate of the mutineers themselves before the conditions of independence can be properly discussed at peace talks in Adiron. And we are going to our commercial break, and you'll be back with me, Lavinia Tuller, when we discuss with Dr. Josiah Alexander how the National Football team is expected to do in their next match..."

[New Edom]

Blackhawks Survivors

Yeg was advancing, leading them forward when suddenly he felt a hammer blow against his body and couldn't stand; he fell grunting with the shock of the blow; there were other rounds zipping among them but the Sugar Rats were down in the mud. Boogus cursed. They'd clearly been spotted somehow--he didn't know how but he knew the CPO had a lot more toys than he had.

"God is good..." he whispered. Priest moved up to check on Yeg, and found him still breathing but a bad chest wound, which he began to deal with, examining it for debris carefully under a poncho he put over the wounded man so he could use a small light.

Boogus, meanwhile, crawled away low among the reeds and muck, his lover helplessly receiving him into her warm mucky embrace, and flipped his IR down, peering through the reeds. Raddy and Melzo held back, covering him; Raddy waited for his signal. No need to panic. The Sugar Rats spread out, not squeamish about getting smeared and slick with the mud, which helped obscure them anyway, in Raddy's case nearly to the shoulders in murky water where he rested his PK on a grassy hummock as the enemy fired at them in the dark, probably with IR but not as good as they might think out here.

Boogus took aim with his GL-15 and fired an HE round in the direction of the Noviterans, and as he did Raddy suddenly exploded choking coughing rounds out of his machinegun, and Melzo did likewise. The rest of the unit hung back in reserve, waiting.

[New Edom]

The Apotheosis of the Queen

Most Holy Elder Brother Malachi sat with Queen Mara on the grass in the small garden area of the Refugee Center, listening gravely as she spoke of her journey and of her life. Mara for the first time in her life confessed to someone she didn't even know, and held nothing back. To her astonishment, the gaunt lean older man seemed compassionate, even tender.

"You have lived a life of great sin, of poor guidance and of enormous temptation beyond what most people ever experience, Queen Mara," the cleric informed her. "However all sin is equal in the sight of God. Forgiveness, our Church teaches, is instant, but repentance is another matter. That is the demonstration of your devotion to a genuine change of life that reflects the spiritual life within. For just as works without faith is dead, so faith without works is dead. Do you understand this?"

Mara brushed tears away and smiled at him. "Yes, I think so Most Holy Elder Brother. It is why I came here naked and without anything but the barest needs..."

"This will not stop civilw ar," the lean man said sadly. "Only the acceptance of the Theocratic Republic will do that. You said many things to the journalist Stanton, including that you felt everyone had a point. Is that what you really think?"

Mara sighed. "I want to see the Prophet and the Monarchy reconciled. I truly do. But all that Mr. Touchstone did was unite some political parties to govern the country, and he stepped down, one way or another, for Perrin. I don't see that the Theocratic Republic..." she looked at him and took a deep shuddering breath, "Has a right to exist. But I also don't see that my sister has the right to raise arms against it. I feel so torn."

Malachi clapped his hands. "But don't you see, my Queen, that this need not be! The Monarchy would never be dissolved, we do not believe in that! If you could only look into the Prophet's eyes everything would become simple! You would know in your heart of hearts that he is right!" his voice was warm and kind. "He yearns to see you, and with but a word your sinful marriage to a heretic will be over, and he will be your loyal servant. Go to Hillel with the honour guard and servants I have brought for you. See for yourself. None will compel you, my Queen...only consider it."

Mara said, "I'm afraid though...afraid that it will make things worse. If I go there...if I accept him...then it will justify the Theocratic Republic all the more. What I want above all is peace."

She drew her knees up, hugged them to her breasts, and pondered. He was quiet, watching her. Mara bit her lip, her brow furrowed, and then she said, "What if...what if you were to give orders to the people in Harbourtown to stop rioting? I mean maybe ordered two days of prayer and fasting, then gave them clear instructions to cooperate with the CPO? Could you do that? Would they obey you?"

Malachi looked at her a long moment, then nodded slowly. "It could be done. But Majesty, then you must promise to go to Hillel, for you will be putting my authority on the line."

Mara said softly and gently, "Your authority is only from God, as is mine."

Malachi broke into a startled smile. "That is so, my Queen. I will do it then. But...it will not stop easily. It may take as much as a day. The CPO's very presence is provocative."

Mara stood up and he did as well. "I have work to do," she told him. "I want to flush out the water recycling system another time, I think that the problem has been fixed; there was clearly some contaminant in the filtration system from improper maintenance, and I've started from scratch with fresh substrate and...well anyway I have work to do, and so do you."

Malachi blinked. "Yes, yes of course. Majesty, it has been a pleasure and a privilege to be graced by this audience."

Mara gave him a warm embrace; she had had enough of all this hand kissing (an obscene foreign custom) bowing deeply like she was an icon; his body and hers were warm from the son; their very real selves unhidden, his leaner harder hairier body against hers, her breasts softly pushing against a strong bony chest, a rough warm dry kiss with bristly short beard on her cheek, breath against breath, vulnerable genital flesh and hair briefly meeting, then they parted and smiled at one another.

In a way she felt a bit sad. She had enjoyed being Abishag; part of her wished she'd perhaps died in a bombing, maybe not anyone else, but then she'd have been spared the future. But that was selfish. She went back to work, as she had insisted on continuing to earn her keep until it was time to move on, and intended to show the others who worked on the aquaponics how to keep the system going.

[Cacerta]

SISMI Branch Vichenza, Torre Alta
Vichenza, Sarissita, Kingdom of Cacerta
A team of three operatives had been assembled to be sent to Harbourtown with the objective of rendezvousing with the SISMI agent already there. Angelina Laguardia had nearly two decades living in Harbourtown as a deep-cover agent for the Kingdom and she would be their contact when they arrived. Recent reports had detailed it would be difficult to get into Harbourtown direct and that it was advisable that they found another route in. Angelina stated that, "...their cover as foreign-aid workers will do fine, but it won't specifically protect them from the violence. The ETC are radicals and they see anyone who is not ETC or Edomite as a threat to the sovereignty of the Theocratic Republic."

After several hours of deliberation, Mila had finally decided that the team would enter New Edom via Fineberg and proceed by train to Harbourtown. In the event that they cannot make it all the way, they will disembark in the closest town and find any means of transportation to get to the city.

Some might have already given up on the mental state of Queen Mara, but Mila emphasized that Anelyn did not. As such, given the ongoing violence and skirmishes being fought between the Theocratic Republic, Monarchy, and even CPO ensured that -- no matter what Mara did -- she would likely be in some form of danger or another. At least that was how the Queen of Cacerta felt whenever news of her friend would reach her ears.

"For now, it's likely you will not be getting any firearms on this mission," Chief Torano stated, "Moving our own handguns or rifles into New Edom was already difficult as it was, considering the situation it would be dangerous to do so -- however, if you need to find a weapon, I have no doubt you will be able to. The are you will be moving into has numerous armed militias and I can imagine they will not miss one or two handguns or rifles. It is, however, imperative that you remember your mission objective and not to arm yourselves unless absolutely necessary. Your objective is to observe and protect Queen Mara and nothing else until I state otherwise."

Micaela and the two other male agents present, whom she recognized from Operation Vengeance, nodded in acknowledgement.

"You all will be leaving within the next hour. May the Wise Wolf guide you and see that your are successful. I expect to hear from Angelina when you all arrive in Harbourtown."

[Macureus]

New Macureus City Probe,
Alar Darin

The new Special Executive has been faceless since the dissolution of the two separate national governments and formation of this interim governing body for the reunified nation, but now its membership has been confirmed. The following people are members of the new transitional regime: Anu Namin, Chairman of the Special Executive, Dir Datin, Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Idar Calin, Secretary of Information and Communications, Nora Lavin, Secretary of Justice, Aren Dazun, Secretary of Internal Affairs, General Ira Murayawa, Secretary of Military Affairs, Cair Danin, Secretary of Economic Affairs, and Ras Vatin, Secretary of Culture. Of this group, Danin and Vatin were relatively junior officials before, the former having been Chairman of the State Central Bank of the former New Macureus and the latter a recent Mayor of the port city of Lurin. General Ios Melin has been appointed Ambassador to the World Assembly and Delegate to the CPO Peace Council, essentially turning over supreme power entirely to the Special Execution for the transition.

Secretary Calin issued the following statement to the press regarding the policy of the Special Executive of the Socialist State of United Macureus with respect to matters in foreign nations:

As even the current members of the entirely self-appointed Theocratic Republic of New Edom tacitly accepted the legality and legitimacy of the Council of Ministers as appointed under the late Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab by accepting positions of authority under his Presidency and resigning their former offices, it is illogical and contradictory them to now assert that said Council of Ministers was never legal or lawful, nor a constitutional body, and it is further subversive and inconsistent for them to dispute the legality and supremacy of elections and the constitution authorized by the National Elections Committee appointed by the late President of the Council. Accordingly, the Special Executive recognizes but one national government of the Allied States of New Edom as a legal entity, the Regency of Vice Admiral Prince Elijah Shalmaneser, who was accepted as Regent by the Queen and Heir. It is the lawful and legitimate successor of the previous Interim Government.

Regarding Gloria Regis, it is the position of the Special Executive as the current Premier illegally resumed office without the authorization to do so from the National Government and thereby usurped the lawful powers of the then Military Governor, General Zadok Hesperinus, until such time as martial-law is formally lifted and the Premier reappointed by the Regency of the Allied States of New Edom, neither the so-called Premier, nor her Council of Ministers, nor the Feminist Militia, are to be regarded as legal and duly constituted authorities in the Protectorate of Gloria Regis. Secession by Gloria Regis from the Allied States of New Edom shall not be considered legal nor shall it be recognized by the Special Executive until such time as it is recognized by the Regency.

With respect to the Hemar Islands, the Special Executive is pleased to formally recognize that they are a Protectorate of the High Kingdom of Ossoria. Accordingly, said Protectorate shall be designated and regarded as Ossorian soil and integral territory, regardless of whatever position other nations may take concerning it.

With respect to Arcologia, it is the proposal of the Special Executive that the Union of Urdnotia, Imperium of Arbites Materia, and Republic of Adiron should partition the stateless territory and annex their own distinct zones of the same.

This last statement, while surprising, reveals that the Special Executive is not comfortable with the legal limbo of Arcologia and would prefer to see it annexed to the three nations of Ceti. This would stabilized and resolve the future status of the people and territory of Arcologia. No statements regarding Dengali, Azurlavai, or any other contentious issues have been issued or declared as of this time.

[United Valik]

Harbourtown, Bara Province, Free Congress Territory

As the first deputation of unarmed civilians from Valik, led by the monks of the Patrian Order and known as the Interfaith Delegation for Peace, arrived at Harbourtown Commercial Airport, it was probably the largest collection of clergy from that nation to ever visit any part of New Edom....and they had shown up in the most militantly Christian and particularly ETC part of the country....without their traditional weapons on hand. They were but the first, too. More would be set to arrive in other parts of New Edom, such as Lookinghaven, Sterry, Fineberg, Nass, etc. Many more, in fact.

But these were set to arrive in the center of the action, the heart and hub of ETC control, in a territory controlled by a regime not formally recognized by the Federal Democratic Republic of United Valik, but not denounced, either, as the Valikans wished to be as neutral as they could as peacekeepers. Well, at least the Government did. The Federalists were very loud in demanding an end to the Valikan role in peacekeeping and the dispatch of a large contingent of forces to smash the Free Congress once and for all. Ironically, the Communists had seconded their motion, but the rest of the parties had voted it down easily. There was now talk of replacing private militias deputized by the Feds with an entirely regular force if the two parties didn't quit acting so overtly hostile to one of the three factions in New Edom.

Strange as their mission might seem, it was pretty basic. Relieve suffering. Ease the pain. Comfort and console the widows, the orphans, the fatherless....provide for their needs. House the homeless. Feed the hungry. Find work for the indigent. It was a mission of mercy, peace, and love. Something that Valik was not afraid to export at last....the Valikans had kept to themselves to a large extent prior to the Othmani War, but that was changing. The Othmani War had forced them to realize that they were now not just a shattered, rebuilding nation themselves, but now that they had begun to prosper and recover a bit, they could reach out to others, help, assist, provide for them. Heal other lands, too....and while this was an ecumenical group religiously, the Valikan Patrian Order, the monks of the Patrian Faith, took the lead.

And the first group was now landing in Harbourtown....sixty monks, plus eighty laymen and laywomen, and twenty clerics of other faiths, such as Catholic and Orthodox priests, and even some rabbis of the Sephardic sort. There were also two nuns, Sister Greta and Sister Katja, both Polish Catholic Valikans. Dressed in their very plain habits, as the priests and monks were in their simplest outfits, and even the laymen in very Spartan clothing, they didn't expect any kind of real stir at all, though with the Compulsory Nudity Act, they were concerned about where to go to get their waivers in a territory controlled by an illegal regime. Would there be waiver kiosks just past customs, or further down? Would they have to strip to get to them? Those were very natural concerns, especially for the women, particularly the nuns.

And now they were about to approach security and customs....

[Ghant]

"Night Creatures"
Heshbon, Bara Province, New Edom

For Ion Elurharria from the deep swamps of Ostrabadia, Dakmoor, son of a tavern wench and some unknown one and done pump and dump, sleep was not going to come easily. It never does. As it were, nights in Bara were vastly different from nights in Eskura. Almost the opposite.

The air in northern Ghant was cold and dry, without bugs and other sorts of pests. Here in Bara, however...it was hot and muggy, and creatures of the night flickered and scurried about. Damn it. It was in many ways a double edged sword. It seemed less dangerous than back in the deep country, where he had to essentially sleep with one eye open, to be on alert for all the things that could kill a man with ease. Cave bears, direwolves, pumas, nightcats, so on and so forth. On the flipside, the weather in Bara sucked.

Ion was high enough on the food chain to sleep in a borrowed bungalow, but he didn't really feel like that. He was a ranger at heart, at home in the great outdoors. He did stop off in one to wash his face though. There was a wide veranda around the front of the single story house, screen windows, which were raised on reinforced concrete pilings from the ground and had an open feel within. There were no doors, but rather a large main room with dividing walls, a washroom area and a small kitchen. There was an outhouse in the back, and the washroom was for bathing in addition to washing up.

He went right for the washroom past the others and turned on the water, slashing it on his face and rubbing it in his baggy eyes. It felt good to feel it on his weary face. As he did so, one of the Ghantish soldiers that was high enough in rank addressed him. "You shacking up in here tonight, ranger?"

"Nah...I'm sleeping outside with the other rabble," Ion said with a slight shake of his head. "Still the lowest of the lowborn at heart, you know. The ground is a decent enough mattress." After he had finished up, he went back outside to where the Ghantar had setup the bulk of their camp.

There were a series of tents of various sizes and tarped shelters where at least more than one fellow seemed to be having a hard time going to bed. Many had stripped down to bare skin in order to avoid feeling too hot. Ion thought that was funny and sniggered at one young man that looked his way as he was walking. "Don't get any ideas now boys," he told them. "Don't go poking around in the dark."

Ion had a relatively large tent ready to go on the edge of camp that he had someone throw up in advance for him. With a yawn, he crawled inside it and cast off all his clothes. Still fucking hot as shit, he thought as he laid down. He brought a thin sheet over his legs and groin as he laid down on a worn but comfortable pillow, and then he closed his eyes. Much to his surprise, he fell asleep faster than he thought he would, to the sounds of Night Creatures.

[Hittanryan]

Near Salcah

Still set back a bit from the action in his Puma, Atkins opened with a radio transmission of "Are there any wounded who need assistance?" The ETC made some bitter remarks as they approached, accusing the monarchists of what sounded like human trafficking. Domris similarly threw a few barbs at the ETC. Suddenly it looked like they were turning to leave. "Skipjack-2, Zioner-4, we need to ask some questions here. As a violation of the ceasefire has just taken place, we are opening an investigation, starting with all of you. I'm sending over some of my men to begin."

The ETC

Team Leader Mai was closest to the ETC, and had heard Obadiah's remarks. Sergeant Mai looked on stoically, until he was given the order to approach them and start grilling them. "Who's in command here?" he asked of the militia, unable to distinguish any ranks due to their lack of uniforms.

"Elder Brother Michael. Me," said the scarred craggy faced insurgent.

"What is this unit, Elder Brother?" Mai asked.

"We are a few patriotic citizens defending our community," said the man evenly.

"Who do you report to? Are you part of the Eastern Brigade?" Mai continued. Elder Brother Michael stared at Mai and said nothing. Mai seemed comfortable enough to wait. "Sir?" he eventually prodded with a hard stare.

Elder Brother Michael said coldly, "You are treating us like criminals. It is intolerable. This is our country, not yours."

"We are asking the monarchists questions as well, Elder Brother. You can see Staff Sergeant Atkins up there right now," Mai said, pointing. "However, the Theocratic Republic agreed to a ceasefire and invited the CPO to enforce it along a demarcation line. Were you aware of this?"

Elder Brother Michael said sharply, "WE heard about it. And our people were being moved like cattle anyway." One of the others snarled, "What did you expect us to do?" "All of the sudden you bunch show up and suddenly we are under your guns too..." another said bitterly.

"I understand your concerns, and my platoon leader is going to put your claims of forced population transfer in my report. The whole CPO will know about it," Mai said. "For what purpose are they evicting villagers?"

"Because they claim we are rebels," rapsed Elder Brother Michael. "What more reason do they need?"

"How do they carry these operations out? Give our recon something to look for," Mai said.

"They are going into every village around here, within 10-20 klicks of Salcah all around it," said Elder Brother Michael bitterly. "Moving in with combined helicopters and armour and forcing people into trucks and moving them away, everyone, and stealing all the livestock."

"Have they crossed the ceasefire line?" Mai asked, taking a shot in the dark.

Elder Brother Michael grinned....then barked a laugh. "Are you joking? What ceasefire? The only ceasefire is the Eastern Brigade fell back and the Monarchists left them alone in Salcah. The villagers suffer as always."

Mai was about to say something, before shaking his head. "All right, Elder Brother, we will do what we can to look into these evacuations and help the villages, but you're not giving us much to go on. Your superiors likely have more intelligence which could aid our investigation, which is part of why we asked."

With a snort, the ETC leader shrugged and looked away glancing at his men with an 'I told you so' look. They looked sullen and contemptuous.

"I'm serious," Mai said. "If the evacuations are forcing you to defend yourselves, it's a source of conflict in Bara and it becomes peacekeepers' business. The CPO will investigate, but it'll take longer and be less thorough the less information we have."

"If you mean what you say, sergeant," said the father of the wounded boy, "Then help us see to my son's arm, he's shot bad. We are not slaves or criminals to be interrogated like this. Sit down with us, give us healing for the wound the Monarchists gave him, help us collect our dead for honourable burial and break bread with us, and we'll talk." A couple of others nodded, muttering agreement, and Elder Brother Michael glanced at him and nodded slowly. "You speak like a wise man, Brother Zachary."

Mai seemed not to react at first, glancing between them. Then he raised a hand to his ear and said "Staff Sergeant, we need Dufresne down here." Addressing Zachary, he said "Medic's on his way, Elder Brother." The platoon medic could be seen exiting the Puma he was in and walking towards them.

"And our dead," said Elder Brother Michael firmly.

Mai nodded grimly, and replied "Of course." Dufresne, the medic, quickened his pace, digging some of his supplies out. "Who's wounded?" he asked. Mai pointed to Zachary's son. Dufresne walked over to Zachary. "You'll be all right, let's not move him anymore until we can stop the bleeding," he said, unwrapping a field dressing. "Sit him down here, gently, keep the pressure on," the medic instructed. Sitting down on a fallen beam, the young man grimaced; he looked rather pale and he stumbled as he sat. However otherwise he was unflinching as the medic began to examine the wound.

Dufresne first looked for signs of shock in the boy, just to be sure. After that he carefully examined his arm for any signs of a fracture. He'd have to splint it if there was. In the muscle of his upper bicep, there was blood welling, and checking suggested some swelling under the open mound, the boy sighed but otherwise said nothing.

The medic tried to reassure him. "It'll be all right. What's your name, son?" The boy weakly replied "Marcellus." He examined the swelling a bit closer to see if it was an actual deformity in the arm. If there wasn't, he asked "Can you move your arm?"

Probing revealed that a ricochet must have slashed into the arm, the slug still there about an inch in. The boy had winced, suggesting a break or obstruction. That was it. Satisfied that it wasn't a fracture, Dufresne readied a combat dressing. "This is going to hurt, we need to stop the bleeding," Dufresne warned before he began. He pressed down on the wound with the bandage, wrapped it around the arm, then tied the tail end of it off so it was firm but didn't cut off circulation.

Stoically, now and then sighing or giving a little intake of breath, Marcellus accepted this. Zachary, noting this care, watched closely. "We'll need to keep this arm elevated. If you're sitting up it should be all right, but if you're lying down you should use a pillow to keep it above the heart, at least until something more long term," he explained. In the meantime he was seeing if the field dressing was holding, if the bleeding was slowing.

"I'll make sure to remind him, doctor," said Zachary nodding. Marcellus seemed a bit vague, his eyes blinking a lot.

"How are you doing, Marcellus?" Dufresne asked, studying him a bit. He'd been very quiet. Might have been the pain, but they had to catch any signs of shock before it set in.

"I...I need to lie down now," muttered Marcellus.

"All right...slowly," Dufresne said, letting him lower himself. "Just a few more things..." he said. He checked Marcellus' pulse, if it was weak or very rapid he might suspect he was going into shock. The pulse was in fact fluttering very quickly, and his skin felt rather clammy.

'Shit...' Dufresne thought. "OK...lie down, Marcellus, we need to elevate his legs, he might be going into shock from blood loss." He elevated his legs on the wooden beam, then dug out a portable oxygen mask. "I need you to breathe into this, Marcellus, all right?" The rest of the group could hear Dufresne continuing to work on Marcellus.

While they were handling him, the ETC militia, watching now and then, waited for their promised hospitality and help with arranging to bury their dead. After a bit of ferrying back and forth, Mai approached Elder Brother Michael. "Let's see to your dead. My team will assist you," he said grimly, motioning for Michael to lead the way.

Elder Brother Michael led the way in the gathering of the dead; with a curious mix of function gruffness and tenderness, they gathered them. As the leader began to dig with a spade while the others did for a burial spot about 100 meters from the ruined village, he remarked to the Adiran NCO, "You know, none of these men and boys are soldiers. This one here..." he nodded to the body wrapped in rough blood spotted burlap nearby lying awaiting his grave, "Was a millet farmer. That one over there? Carpenter, and that one yonder a tinker.

The team assisted with the digging, each one unfolding their entrenching tools and stabbing them into the heavy, wet soil. Harmon didn’t look at the bodies, Jones and Sabin only looking at them a bit cautiously. Mai stayed with Michael. “I’m sorry for their loss. You say they’re not soldiers, but if you ask any of us, I think you’ll find we all hit a point where we had to do something for our country. Just like them.”

Elder Brother Michael paused in his digging. “My point, soldier, is that we didn’t go into their country and ask for this fight. They came here. You say we shouldn’t be fighting here, but like I said...we’re defending our people from them.”

“What will they do if you don’t stop them? What do they want from you?” Mai asked, hefting a pile of mud aside. “You said they’d destroy your way of life. How? Do you have any idea what happens to the villagers who are evacuated?”

“Taken out east to work as slaves,’ said the insurgent leader, digging with his spade again. “Will they ever get their land back? Not if we don’t win, soldier. Maybe those negotiations will work, maybe they won’t, but we won’t lose here easy. If you want us to stop fighting, stop the evacuations.”

“I will make that abundantly clear that to my superiors, Brother,” Mai replied. “I know how it all looks, but we haven’t taken their side. What we’re after is peace. No matter how hard it might be.” They continued until the holes were deep enough, then allowed the ETC to begin their burial rites.

The Monarchists

While Mai was busy trying to haggle with the ETC, Atkins was driving over to meet with the Monarchists. This would be a slightly different tack, since they were the ones to have reported the violation and have come under attack initially. The Puma faced Lieutenant Domris’ tank from about 50 meters away, when Atkins’ head disappeared down the commander’s hatch. He emerged from the back of his vehicle and started walking towards the Monarchists. Accompanying him was Sergeant Maroun along with the rest of A squad. Maroun was an olive-skinned woman with dark hair, full lips, and expressive brown eyes, something of a contrast to the paler and plainer Atkins. Approaching the Monarchists, they appraised their Edomite counterparts, weapons held to the side.

Lieutenant Count Alexander Domris wore a tanker’s jumpsuit, helmet with headset, a sidearm which he kept his hands away from, and near him was Sergeant Habbakuk, a dour looking short stocky man. Domris’s face briefly caught the sun so that it seemed he briefly appeared drenched in gold, his badges and glips turned to molten briefly, and then stood, handsome and somehow dashing in his dirty battle worn gear. “How do you do,” he said with a polite smile. “I am Lieutenant Count Domris, commander of this patrol. I regret that Captain Perna, who outranks me, is up in the air, but his role was largely supportive. This is Sergeant Habbakuk, my platoon sergeant. Would either of you care for a cigarette? I’m afraid I have little hospitality to offer but NE-IMPs, and that’s no hospitality at all.”

Maroun sized the young count up as she approached, stealing a few glances at his form. “No, but thank you for the offer, Lieutenant. I’m Staff Sergeant Atkins, platoon commander. Our LT’s still back on the highway herself, unfortunately. I think you briefly met on the highway yesterday, she’ll regret missing you I’m sure,” he joked, before catching himself and clearing his throat.

“This is Sergeant Maroun, squad leader,” Atkins said a little stiffly, motioning to the woman to his left.

She smiled and replied warmly in turn, “Sorry, Lieutenant, we’ve only got IMR’s ourselves, unfortunately. Guess they don’t want us getting too comfortable out here. Shame.”

“I understand,” said Domris. He seemed a bit puzzled a moment, then lit up one of his own cigarettes. ‘Well then.” he snapped his lighter shut, took a drag and blew out aromatic smoke. “Ah that’s better. Well what can I do for you two?” he asked for all the world like a man answering his door on a Saturday morning.

Atkins cut to the chase. “A violation of the ceasefire has taken place, so as per our mission we’re opening an investigation. We’ll just start off with some basic questions here. The who’s, what’s, when’s. First off, do you have any wounded? Do they need assistance?”

“We do have medevac coming in, and our own medic is treating our wounded with assistance, but I’ll find out if he needs any help. Thanks so much,” Domris said.

“All right, this is actually part of the investigation. How many wounded? What type of wounds? Can I get a list of their names?”

“Of course,” said Domris. “Sergeant, get them a list of names.”

“Sir!” said Habbakuk, coming to attention then going to write names down on a notepad.

“Anything else?” said Domris.

“I need you to describe this initial attack in detail from your perspective. The time, location, and as best as you could tell its exact nature. That includes what weapons were used, estimates on the offenders’ positions, and how it was carried out,” Atkins continued.

Domris looked at him thoughtfully. “I’m thinking I should contact my regimental HQ for instructions about that if you’ve no objection.”

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Atkins said, then adding “if you’re contacting Regiment anyway, the CPO will also want logs of transmissions during the attack as well if possible.”

The CPO would also inquire what Domris' orders were and what his patrol was doing at the time of the attack. The CPO would seek a blow-by-blow account of Domris' response to the attack, including maneuvers, acquisition of targets, and calls for support. They would even go to Romain to request copies of reconnaissance data from the time of the attack, so they could figure out what people knew and when they knew it. It would have been clear to the Monarchists from the level of detail that the CPO was taking the matter very seriously.

There was another reason for going into such detail as well: intelligence. If it was up to Tachel to secure the ceasefire line, he had to know as much as possible about how the attacks were being carried out. The more patterns he could establish, the better his recon assets would know what to look for. He wanted to know the motivations behind each attack. If he knew the offenders' typical goals, he could try to get a step ahead.

[Novitera]

Blackhawk Survivors

It was a stroke of luck that Aikens ducked down to reload when he did. The HE round exploded close by sending out shrapnel. A piece hit him in the head but his helmet protected him from the blow. Jamming a new magazine into his ACR, he was able to get a few shots off in the direction of the Sugar Rats when a burst of heavy machine gun fire started peppering the area around him. Mud and water around him seemed to boil as the rounds hit. Either the enemy was laying down a base of fire to retreat or there were hostiles pivoting around to flank them. That was why he kept his eye out on his left once in a while. He was also in regular contact with Briden and Jones, seeing if the two were still alive.

"On my mark, Jones, lay down suppressing on that machine gun on the right. Briden, see if you can take it out!" He said over their comms. Waiting for a moment as the shots were directed somewhere else, Aikens raised up to fire his rifle. "Now!"

He laid down a series of single shots quickly. Briden zeroed in on where the muzzle flashes from one of the machine guns were, putting a few well placed shots there with his M14 EBR. The adrenaline was coursing through Aikens. For one, he was proud of himself for not freezing or panicking in the face of death. At the same time the fear was there. Sufficiently controlled despite the circumstances. For he knew this would be the fight of his life, for his life. All he had to do was make it through the night. "Again! Now!" He screamed over the comm. They repeated the process, laying down suppressing fire with their rifles while Briden tried to pick off targets.

"I can't see many of them but I'm sure they got more than we do. We have to maintain distance or get swarmed. Jones, you fall back first. Pop smoke and fall back 30 yards. Now! Fall back!" He ordered over the radio.

"Yes sir!" Jones voice replied.

Out of the corner of his eye, Aikens saw the smoke that Jones set off. Crawling through the muck, he retreated while Aikens and Briden intermittently fired back at the enemy. Once Jones confirmed he was away and laying down fire, Aikens ordered Briden to go. They were going to leap frog away from the enemy, keeping this up as long as they could. It was the best plan he had for now. Perhaps if they got far enough away he could call in the artillery. Then it was his turn to go. First he threw a smoke grenade. Not knowing whether any hostiles were close, he hurled a fragmentation grenade in their direction anyways. Like a snake, he crawled through the bog covering himself in mud and grime hearing the grenade go off a moment later. Reeds scratched his face but he barely noticed being too busy concentrating on other things like a steady breathing pace.

[The Shrailleeni Empire]

Fineberg International Airport
Fineberg, New Edom

After an extended stay in the capital of the Allied States, the Mother Empress and her entourage were finally preparing to leave. The first official visit to New Edom from the Shrailleeni head of state had been eventful and productive, and foreign relations had benefited immensely from her presence there. But the Home Islands called, and their monarch could not afford to delay a moment longer. The Shrailleeni people waited in eager anticipation for the gathering of the National Assembly, and the enemies of the Imperial Throne conspired in the Royal Court. And so SAC-1 prepared for takeoff as the Mother Empress, Prince Regent, and Foreign Minister took their positions.

Ever consumed with work, Zattem Resbruck took a moment to take stock of the events that he had been entrusted to handle. The transport of the Mother Empress was outfitted with the communications equipment that he needed to do his job, and in truth he never ceased to delight in dealing with the outside world. Even at its most infuriating it was still as exciting to him as ever.

First he read the message that Sarah Carmel had sent to Katara, forwarded to him personally at the embassy before he had departed. He found himself amused and dismayed all at once at the woman's manner. It was all well and good to say that her new self-proclaimed Republic was a friend to the Empire, but he found it a bit late for her to make claims of upholding the government of William Touchstone. The Empire had gone to war for that government, and had lost good women and men fighting for it. And barely had it begun when that same government, including the Lady Carmel, had negotiated behind the Empire's back for a peace led by Perrin Pahath-Moab, a peace that had almost destroyed the Shrailleeni-New Edomite alliance.

Perhaps if Touchstone's government had buckled down, kept fighting, allowed their Shrailleeni and Roman allies to help them more completely, then things would be much different now. As it was, the Shrailleeni had decided to pledge their honor and allegiance to Pahath-Moab, and after his death the Regency which had agreed to uphold all of their conditions for support. If Carmel thought that he or the Mother Empress would be swayed in that regard, then she was a fool. Honor was honor. He did not want to advise the Mother Empress to war with the Theocratic Republic, but he also knew which side the honor of his nation and people lay on.

Next the letter from Elijah Shalmaneser himself. The opening immediately sharpened his mind. It was too placating, filled with honorifics, a practice which in his experience was meant to soften the blow to come. As he continued reading it was not difficult to see why. The Regent continued to have misgivings regarding Gloria Regis, his unease with the situation was obvious. Zattem attributed this partly to the well known political pressure that the Regent was under to not treat with them at all, and partly to the conduct of the Gloria Regians themselves, which while exemplary could easily cause any Patriarch to feel uneasy. If the Regent truly did intend to journey to the island himself, then he felt in his gut that it would be Shrailleen, not the CPO, that would have to step forward in negotiations.

The CPO...he had kept abreast of the developments there as well. As one of the nations involved in the planning of that mission the Shrailleeni delegate was privy to operational intelligence, and Zattem did not like the reports that she forwarded him, or those that he observed in the news. Already there were casualties, reports of brutality on the part of CPO soldiers. All inevitable in a mission like this, but toxic for public relations. It was disappointing to him, and made him consider whether or not the Empire should get involved. Considering their involvement in New Edom he had thought their impartiality compromised, but he also believed firmly that trained Shrailleeni soldiers were highly capable of handling the situation. Certainly better than Valikians or Draconians, perhaps better than Vyrsar or Novitera. He respected the Adirans more, but they were strangers in a strange land. New Edomites knew Shrailleeni by reputation if not in person...perhaps that might have helped matters.

What did not help matters was Shalmaneser's evasion of his request. And evasion was worse than any answer could have been, it meant that the Regent was wholly uncomfortable about the subject of Macureus, or worse. He felt a twinge of annoyance as he re-read the letter, searching uselessly for some kind of confirmation. It wasn't as if the man didn't know how important the Macurean question was, he had told him as much in an uncomfortably honest letter. Was the evasion some kind of veiled threat? He didn't want to hammer the issue, but perhaps the Regent needed reminded that Macureus was as important to Shrailleeni as Deadora was to the Allied States. And when push had come to shove, the Empire had not sided with Deadora.

He drafted some language as the plane waited on the tarmac for its flight instructions, and brought it before the Mother Empress for her inspection and approval. As they began maneuvers he sent messages to the Embassy as appropriate, and then took a few minutes to relax as they prepared for takeoff. Soon he would be busier than ever. And in truth, he had never been more excited.

To: The Honorable Lady Sarah Carmel
From: Ambassador Katara Telta fe Vangarra
Subject: Shrailleeni Policy Toward the Theocratic Republic
Encryption: Moderate

---

With honor and respect,

Myself, Her Enlightened Majesty, and the Imperial government are indeed aware of the grievances that have been voiced by your faction. We continue to place our faith and trust in the arts of diplomacy, and in the efforts of the CPO, to amicably resolve the situation.

It should be noted, however, that the Shrailleeni government holds some disagreement with the primary point of contention listed by your Theocratic Republic. It would be deceitful of me to fail to express to you Her Enlightened Majesty's skepticism regarding your claim to legitimacy through William Touchstone's Free Congress government. It is noted by my government that full support was offered to uphold the Free Congress in the previous Civil War, but that this conflict was resolved through the peace headed by Perrin-Pahath Moab. The Shrailleeni government was made to recognize this government as legitimate, which officially ended our ties to the former Free Congress.

With the establishment of the current Regency, it was stipulated by my government that national elections and the establishment of a new constitution guided by the will of the people were necessary conditions of our support. With the process of national elections currently underway, and the additional understanding and support of our government concern's regarding Gloria Regis, the Regency has more than earned to recognition and respect of Shrailleen. It strikes the Mother Empress as unusual that you faction asks for legitimacy before taking part in elections, rather than taking part in elections to establish your legitimacy. To ask the Council of Ministers to simply step down before elections takes place also seem inappropriate.

With this in mind, it remains true that we abhor the violence taking place in Bara. If the forces loyal to the Regency are indeed launching attacks against towns and villages loyal to your cause, then this behavior will not be tolerated by the Shrailleeni government. We share your hope that the CPO shall succeed in establishing a cease-fire zone that will put an end to the killing. For that matter, it should be noted that the unilateral opinions of the Shrailleeni government do not reflect the negotiation efforts of the CPO in that regard. Whatever peace emerges from those negotiations will of course have the support of the Empire, and your commitment to them is deserving the utmost praise.

I hope that you will take note of our concerns, and that you understand that are inability to offer you full diplomatic recognition does not reflect ill will or intention on the part of the Empire. As ever, our enemy is the way of violence, and the people of New Edom our friends. The Mother Empress respects your opinions and your cause, and as ever stands ready to protect the lives of your people.

With the light of the Goddess,

Ambassador Katara Telta fe Vangarra

To: Vice-Admiral Prince Elijah Shalmaneser, Regent of the Allied States of New Edom
From: Zattem Resbruck, Foreign Minister of the Shrailleeni Empire
Subject:RE: Statement of Grievances
Encryption: Moderate

---

Your Honorable Regency,

Your kind words bring honor to the House of Shrailleen, and do me too much honor. I remain, as ever, the humble servant of Her Enlightened Majesty, her counselor and the expression of her will. Your words of friendship are heartfelt, and the sword of my nation shall ever be raised at your side.

While the Empire has lent the leadership of Gloria Regis its support toward the goals that they have expressed, we remain as ever an ally to the Allied States and place the national security of your nation in a position of primary importance. Our support for Gloria Regis is in that regard not unconditional, and we have been careful to observe the trends emerging in that nation as you have. In our efforts there we have thus far stressed plainly that the will and safety of the Gloria Regian people, and their right to self-expression, are of paramount concern. It is not a secret that we would be dismayed to see the Deadoran philosophy promoted abroad, and that we are at best tolerant of marxist ideals and utterly intolerant of repression and intimidation. You may rest assured that the Empire intends to promote nothing less than peace, democracy, and the free will of the Gloria Regian people.

In that regard your decision to travel to Gloria Regis is to my mind an infinitely wise one, and a promising course of action. It is true that the efforts of the CPO seem to have been concentrated on the mainland, where admittedly the violence is a much more pressing and time-sensitive concern. I will ensure that our Consul to Gloria Regis is prepared for your arrival, and you may expect her to act in a capacity of mediation during the discussions that take place there. It may be prudent for her to be joined by the Consul of Adiron as well. We must also ensure that all of the leadership of Gloria Regis is present, or this course may come to nothing. I will do my utmost to ensure that this happens.

The Shrailleeni Empire certainly does not recognize the legitimacy of the Theocratic Republic. The Regency that you represent has thus far assented to National Elections and the eventual formation of a new constitution, and been forthcoming in respecting the concerns of the Empire and the will of the New Edomite people. The Shrailleeni Empire respects your view that the Theocratic Republic represents a rebellion, though we of course hope to achieve a peaceful and diplomatic solution. It has occurred to me that the CPO has been moving more slowly than it otherwise may have, and I have read disturbing reports of the results of deployment so far. The Empire has remained out of the CPO operation thus far due to concerns that our neutrality has been compromised, however, I have reconsidered my advice to Her Enlightened Majesty on this policy of late. If our involvement can help to stop the violence and achieve the conditions necessary for peaceful negotiation, then perhaps this is the course that we should take.

I trust that you will not hesitate to contact me with any concerns or thoughts that you may have regarding any of the matters that we have discussed. Our aid and friendship to your nation continues to be of primary concern to the Empire, even with the National Assembly upcoming and the matter of Macureus still at the forefront of many minds. I have just seen that Melin's takeover of the country has been completed by referendum, perhaps inevitable but chilling regardless. Macureus has not shown the slightest goodwill or regard to my nation's concerns, and instead have begun consorting with our enemies as they consolidate their now-doubled military strength. I fear that they will attempt to cause strife between us, if allowed, and I hope that your eyes will be sharp in dealing with them.

With the utmost regard,

Zattem Resbruck, Foreign Minister

[Jedoria]

Sixington, Gloria Regis

It seemed Pușcaș knew how to win a crowd, based on the applause he received from the people after he accepted the flowers. The rest of the Jedorians couldn't help but appreciate the warmth the people were showing, many of them waved back and flashed smiles to the various individuals assorted there. "Of course not Ma'am," was Pușcaș's reply to her concerns. "We're honored to be here." He and several of his senior agents followed Theodora to the green SUV, climbing in and taking their seats.

The details of their lodging were welcomed. Banks were good sturdy structures, they had to be, in order to protect the currencies stored inside. Pușcaș himself had rather vivid memories of banks back home, always the small ones, so easy, so ripe for robbery. He recalled one particular incident where he and almost three hundred other agents had struggled to contain three machine gun wielding maniacs. But that was just a distant memory, even if every now and then Pușcaș could feel the scars from that day.

The thrown contents that were tossed at the vehicles didn't really faze Pușcaș, although a few of the younger staff were momentarily taken by surprise. The kids may not have been used to having things thrown at them but Pușcaș was personally glad it was just some sludge, rather than a grenade, or bullets. Again, times long past. He remained focused on Theodora and responded to her inquiries with honesty and lacking in hesitation. "Making it clear that the force is for everyone is key. For starters, the people have to know this isn't just a re-branded Feminist Militia. Best way would to have prominent members of different political parties all come forward and endorse this idea. If the people see that everyone is behind it, you'll have more diverse group of volunteers. And after you snag a few of each group, lots of photo ops. Showcase former adversaries, like Lecks and Feminists, NWP and Communists, working together on patrols, taking on cases. Lots of good pictures featuring diverse groups of police working together to get the job done."

"Try portraying the police force as 'For the people', not necessarily for 'Gloria Regis'. That way those opposed to independence don't see it as an anti-mainland thing. But when it comes time remind them that it was your to put an neutral police force on the streets. That should swing some fence sitters."

"These are just the basics of course, but where better to start?"

[Novitera]

Saint Joseph

"Let me get this straight Sergeant, you were a cop?" Asked young Private Contreras who was walking with the Sergeant of their APC. After their firefight outside of town, the squad was given a pass on going out into the field again. They had spent the last few days doing only patrols in the city. Sometimes their unit guarded voter registration stations which turned out to be a boring and uneventful task. Saint Joseph was relatively calmer than what they heard was going on in Harbourtown. Now General Larkin had them up to another task. Dismounted, they were all walking on this day.

Sergeant Morishita looked to Contreras and nodded. "That's right Private. Heselory PD." He replied.

"Damn, that must have been a trip." Contreras said.

Morshita did not answer. "It was. I've been shot at by gangbangers. That's why the Army wanted me. There were budget cuts back in the day so I needed to find a new job. So they got a man with experience shooting at bad guys and they put me on the gun of a stryker. Wonder who decided that." He explained with a sigh. "I should have just signed on with my brother in law's construction company."

There were five of them from the APC that one day. Dabney, Corporal Dabney now was marching along with silently. Hayashida was with them too spitting tobacco onto the street as he walked along. Finally a man from the other fire team. From their stryker crew one man was dead and another in a Vyrsarian medical facility in Harbourtown. This day's work was relatively simple. They went around knocking on doors, greeting the locals then Morishita would use his old skills as a police officer to investigate. Just a couple questions here and there about who would be attacking them outside of Saint Joseph. Somebody in this city had to know something according to command. They wanted details. Locations, names, strength and anything that could help them. It was suggested among the command that a generous monetary reward be put up for any information leading to the capture or killing of whoever was attacking their forces. Though that idea was shot down when Command decided this would probably lead to an influx of unreliable intelligence in an effort to claim the reward that would make things more difficult to shift through. It would be like trying to drink water from a fire hose. So groups of soldiers, led by the few NCOs and officers they had with experience in policing went out into the city to get in tight with the locals. They would offer the reward for information they had immediately rather than give the locals time to fabricate something. In person and on the spot, it would give them a better opportunity to filter out the bullshit.