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The Coming Storm.... (Open, MT)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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Paddy O Fernature
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

The Coming Storm.... (Open, MT)

Postby Paddy O Fernature » Fri Aug 07, 2015 8:38 pm

PRELUDE

Image

"Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a white horse, and she who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to her, and she went out conquering and to conquer... "


Office Of The President | Presidium Level | Ministry Of Defense | May 2015


It was a cold and overcast day inside the Dominion, as rain fell heavily from the dark heavens above onto the unyielding steel and concrete structures of the Dominion below. The water dripped and flowed as it made it's way across the various rooftops before finding itself fiendishly trapped in one of the uncountable rusting gutter systems used by the Dominion. From here, the fresh water was then collected and piped through a series of gravity fed systems before eventually being dumped into one of the many below ground cisterns that made up the collection system, ready to be processed for human consumption.

President McBeth stood quietly by a large bay window overlooking his offices catchment system, and watched as the water collected on the roof above flowed down and out a stone gargoyles mouth in a display that to this day still filled the man with a sense of wonder at human ingenuity. The now slightly aging man had so far spent the majority of his morning looking out from his perch, his attention lost into the abyss of his mind as he pondered over the mornings news reports endlessly in his mind.

Though he would never openly admit it, the effects of constantly dealing with the shit filled world and the people who thieved oxygen daily just by existing in it was beginning to take it's tole on him both physically and mentally. A slight slouch could be seen from a keen eye, where once a proud and straight posture once stood, and if one looked close enough, they would see a wisp of grey hair spotting the mans once proud hairline. His very soul and every fiber of his being ached for the day where he would no longer have to wake up and deal with these fools on a diplomatic level. Hell, half the people he dealt with on the international scene shouldn't be ruling a refuse pile, let along a nation.

A knock at his chambers massive oak doors brought the man back to reality, and he shook his head quietly, dismissing the cobwebs of his previous train of thought from his mind.

"Enter." He said in a cool and calm voice as he turned to face his new arrival.

The door opened with a distinctive creek as the iron hinges protested against the sudden shift of weight, and in walked someone with whom the President had known for quite some time.

"Melissa! It's so good to see you!" Exclaimed McBeth with a smile as Melissa Stern, the daughter of his close friend and supreme commander Edward Stern walked firmly into his chamber wearing her traditional officers garrison fatigues as fit her title and position in the Dominion military.

"Likewise, Mr. President." She mused as she closed the distance between them and embraced the man with a hug.

"It's so good to see you, my dear." Said McBeth as he returned the girls embrace warmly. "And do I owe the pleasure of this timely visit?" He asked as he motioned for the girl to take a seat at his lavish hardwood desk while they chatted.

Melissa seated herself firmly in the overstuffed leather chair that graced the presidents desk before continuing.

"I think you know why I've come." She said in a slightly more serious tone.

McBeth leaned back in his own chair and let a sigh escape his lips as he did so before continuing.

"Melissa, you know I love you as if you were my own daughter, but we have been over this topic a hundred times already. Nothing you say or do is going to change my view on the subject at hand."

"Mr. President, I know that we have been down this road before, but you have to wake up and listen to reason! The Dominion cannot continue on as the worlds own police force, trying to save every last nameless country from it's insane leadership that sends out a pathetic SOS on the international scene. We can no longer physically and financially entertain this personal crusade of yours, Mr President, and it's high time that we as a nation get something in return for risking our necks to help these fools!"

McBeth folded his hands on his lap and shook his head from side to side as he spoke.

"And what would you have me do then? Take tribute from every sovereign nation that falls upon hard times and asks for our assistance? We as both a people and a nation are better then that Melissa, you of all people should know that."

Melissa stood to her feet as McBeth spoke to her and turned her back on the man.

"Know better?" She said in a openly questioningly tone. "All I know Sir, is that you send our brave men and women, my friends... off to foreign lands to fight somebody elses goddamned fight and for what? So that you can feel better as you sleep safe in you're bed at night? Things have to change... then NEED to change."

McBeth turned in his swivel chair and looked behind him out the window again, at the rain as it fell from the heavens and hammered against his glass window.

"There are those nations... those much older and possibly even wiser then ourselves that have faced this very issue you know. Perhaps, if it's not too late, we could learn from their teachings and take steps to follow suite before it's too late." Said Melissa as she calmly walked over to am ornate wall cabinet nearby and opened the polished door on it's face up with her right hand.

"Oh, that I have no doubt." Replied McBeth as he wrinkled his brow in frustration at the situation he currently found himself in."You have to remember though, that we as a whole need to set an example for the rest of the world to follow. We need to be that beacon of light in the sea of darkness that this messed up world currently finds itself in Melissa."

"You're right you know." She said as she pulled a ornate wooden box that had been gifted to the man years earlier by her father out from it's resting place on a shelf and opened it's lid up wide. "We do need to set an example for others to follow. Starting right now......"

Reaching into the silk lined interior of the box, Melissa pulled forth from it's depths one of two matching 10mm service revolvers that had been commissioned to commemorate the successful completion of the annihilation and annexation of GEIJD by her father and the President. With all emotion drained from her face, she turned and strode over to stand directly in front of the Presidents desk, facing the back of the mans chair as he gazed off into the distance.

"Hail Kraven!" She said as a small smirk spread across her face.

"Kraven?" Mumbled McBeth under his breath puzzled, before realization struck him like a hammer.

His eyes went wide with fear and he spun himself around in his chair with his feet with more force then necessary in blind panic, just in time for the round fired from the pistol to impact the side of his head, blowing out the opposite side in a spray of pink mist that repainted the now spider webbed window behind him. His body immediately went limp in the chair as he slowly spun in place due to the force of the impact. A deep crimson river spreading down the front and back of his still warm body as the mans still warm lifeblood pooled around him.

The heavy door behind her protested again, only this time it did so vigorously as it was kicked open by a trio of men entering the chamber.

"Melissa?" Asked an all too familiar voice from the lead man of the group. "My god... what have you done?"

She turned slowly and faced the group of me, the revolver still smoking in her uncaring hands, and cackled sideways.

"Hello father..."

With well trained precision that only a trained marksmen could achieve, she snap fired two consecutive shots in rapid succession and shot the two men flanking either side of her father square in their chests. The men were both dead before their bodies hit the ground in on either side of Edward Stern. General Stern looked slowly to his left and then to his right at the two fallen men beside him, before slowly turning his gaze back up upon his own flesh and blood as a single tear escaped and ran down his grizzled face.

The shot hit him square in the chest, shattering ribs and rupturing organs as the high velocity round passed through the mans upper body. Stern stumbled forward with an outstretched hand, and grabbed hold of his own daughter in a vein attempt for stabilization. He gazed into her eyes, as frothy blood started to escape his lips as the man slowly started to asphyxiate on his own blood that was pooling in a collapsed lung. Melissa pressed the barrel into the mans chest and pulled the trigger twice more, bringing an end to a legend that had changed the course of history on multiple occasions.

Without a single fuck given, she let the limp form of her own father fall unceremoniously to the floor beside her. She turned and walked back over to the Presidents desk, and started rifling though it's drawers. It wasn't long before she located what she was looking for, tucked away securely in one of the desks bottom drawers. Reaching beside her, she grabbed the limp hand of the former president and pressed his thumb down upon the small bio scanner next to the locking mechanism, unlocking the briefcase with an audible click.

"Thanks for lending a hand." She mused as a smile spread across her face as she opened up the presidents nuclear briefcase and gazed upon the folder contained withing.

"Thank you indeed..."

Now, I understand that right now their isn't much to go off of here for a "response". I plan for that to be fixed come tomorrow when I finish the beginning of the first chapter of this story, which will go over international communications, news rumors, ect ect which the community can then act upon. This prelude is mainly just the backstory provided for informational purposes and to get the creative juices rolling.
Last edited by Paddy O Fernature on Sat Aug 08, 2015 11:54 am, edited 2 times in total.

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The Tekkit Guy
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Postby The Tekkit Guy » Sat Aug 08, 2015 2:38 am

OOC: tag
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Esalonia
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Postby Esalonia » Sat Aug 08, 2015 6:04 am

TAGG
Tech level: NS MT
Esalonian Factbook *does not use NS Stats anymore*
DEFCON: 1 2 3 4 [5]
Member of these Multilateral Organizations
Fortitudinem wrote:They're a budding power. Pun intended.

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You would be an excellent Filipino Super Junior member. :p

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The Democratic Soviet Union
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New Hayesalia
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Postby New Hayesalia » Sat Aug 08, 2015 8:02 am

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MCKINLEY STATE PRIMARY SCHOOL, GRIMBANDO, ZOLIRA

In the bright and cheery classroom of the newly renovated school, children and adults clapped as the Prime Minister of the "entire, whole place" stepped up to take the microphone. A tall man among grown ups with fiery red hair and a gravelly voice, he seemed simply gargantuan to these primary school kids. He'd brought cameras from all the news channels and from all the other adults, who looked at him with big friendly smiles.

He took the microphone from Mr. Como and started strong with the young audience. "Good morning students!" he said, his voice loud on the microphone. A cacophony of 900 kids in seven grades rang back- "good morning Mr Bolt!" The man was wearing a white shirt and red tie, and he looked very proud of it, the kids thought. "My name is Edwin, and I'm the Prime Minister of New Hayesalia. I work with people in Revnami to make sure you students have the very best schools and that you can learn the coolest things. So do you kids all know what day it is today?"

The kids rang back, having already being told. "Teachers Day!!!"

"That's right!" he PM responded, happily. "And kids, even us grown ups know teachers are really cool!"

The PM continued, talking to his audience but also taking some time to address the cameras and the assembled staff. He had, of course, just initiated a multibillion dollar program of bringing teacher pay up to Greater Prussian standards- the unions had been getting very loud, as of yet, and their voice would be important in the next years elections. His aides sat behind the extra teaching staff, some checking emails and texts. One took a moment to go outside to take a phone call, nothing odd.

"And kids, that's a lot of money! That's nine zeroes after the 15, did you know? Certainly made me go wow! And more import-"

The Prime Minsters staged was rushed, the aide with a face like a sheet of paper covering the microphone and whispering into the Prime Ministers ear, Edwin Bolt's smile then turning to a painstaking charade masking an attitude of abject fear.

"Well kids, I'd love to stay but the principal has to take over now. Thank you all so much for having me here to visit!"

Without another word the PM handed the microphone to the school principal and left, his aides following and RMG security team receiving an urgent alert through their headpieces.

"Adrian, airport, now. Get me into Papa Mike as soon as we can."

The Prime Minister avoided running although every urge in his body was screaming to do it, his walk instead being as fast as ever. His limousine, a Tesla Model S with the NH flag flying at pennant and a number plate reading G-1, pulled up in the school gate and the PM climbed in. His chief of staff, Greg Poile, had jogged after, immediately getting in.

The drill had been prepared by the elite Royal Montmarian Guards and the local arm of the National Police. Roads were cleared and the convoy proceeded, the Prime Minister already making demands inside his vehicle, one of which was to confirm the information now rolling in. The limousine sped at 130km/h down roads limited to 100, hitting 200 on the freeway. Arriving at the airport, media hadn't even had time to prepare, and even the Prime Minister's 747-8i jet was just finalizing it's readiness.

The Prime Minister disembarked the limousine with his Chief of Staff without acknowledging the press or the waiting flight steward- his focus was tunnel vision on getting onto the airplane conference room. Boarding the huge jet and making a beeline for the conference room, screens now activated filling with faces.

The first man Bolt saw was his, thank god, Foreign Minister. She began stuttering out a surprised greeting, her voice almost syncing with the start up of Papa Mike's four engines. "No bullshit, Lauretta," the Prime Minister began. "where's McBeth, what the hell is going on?"

She read from a short briefing note having been handed to her by a liaison officer of the Foreign Intelligence Directorate, the shadowy intelligence gatherers of the New Hayesalian security apparatus. "We think he's dead, we aren't 100% yet. General Stern might've been as well and the WMDs of the Dominion aren't confirmed secure. This could be the start of a civil war in the bounds of our most important ally!"

"Who did it?" the PM asked, after a stunned moment of silence.

"We can't be sure. They've picked enough fights with anyone, even Golgotha. Might be the Missourians again, might be the FSP trying to strike a nerve with us."

"After Ravini? They've already fucking done that, I'll tell you that much."

The jet now taxied, with two NH Air Force Arrow Interceptors on a supersonic race to give any necessary cover to the thundering Boeing. This was an emergency and extremely high-speed flight straight to Revnami, with a helicopter connection to the Military HQ just south-east of Parliament. Cabinet ministers were as of now reporting to their most nearby Operations Centres at various Military bases.

"What are we doing?" the PM asked, urgently as his ears began popping.

"Intelligence Corps is currently working on it. We're expecting that the FID, Netforce, Signals Interception and Analysis Organisation, Allied Military Intelligence Liason Office or Foreign Media Analysis Organisation will be the first on the horn. Or, god help us, the WMD Tracking Organisation."

The two took a moment of pause. Their Dominion allies had a considerable arsenal of NBC weapons under their belts, something that had always created political friction. But never had there been the consideration that a rebellion would happen in POF. With access to Military commanders including four-star Commander Joint Operations General Myung-Dae Yu now coming online, and with the threat extreme and unclear, Bolt made his first order.

"General, I am ordering all forces to escalate one level to DEFCON 3. I want our ballistic missile defences on DEFCON 1."

This order meant that commanders were making phone calls and flight crews were scrambling to ballistic missile defence aircraft; soldiers were heading to air defences posts; GSAMS personnel were now alert to the reality. Across the country, chaos could happen. The National Police were alerted to this reality, and local posts were now calling every cop they could to report in for any emergencies- the size of the National Police force had essentially tripled. The reservists were now being called to be put on Notice to Move. This was a full blown emergency the likes of which New Hayesalia was not expecting, but prepared for.

NHAF SARACUTH, IMON, NEW HAYESALIA

The New Hayesalian Air Force was a pretty good workplace for a pilot. Fly lots, talk shit more. Over a few coffees in the pilot workspace an while planning flight paths, banter flowed heavy. Of the 53rd Missile Engagement Squadron's five ALI-150 Saint aircraft, two were scheduled on training flights today with one crew ready to go in 15 minutes, the other in two hours. Two other aircraft were being checked over and their crews of 10 each undergoing training on the side. The fifth was undergoing heavier maintenance, checking the status of the aircraft's laser engagement system. Simple work, just a bit dirty. At NHAF Saracuth among the trees and the forestry things were proceeding as normal.

"SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE" interjected with whoops of the alarm system brought all of this to quick end. Without the training disclaimer or the testing disclaimer, the New Hayesalian Air Force pilots simply stared at each other for a few half-seconds before the event clicked in their heads. Adrenaline seeped from the kidneys of the pilots, heartbeats quickly mixing the hormonal cocktail of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen and nitrogen with their blood. Everything was faster. For a squadron who's best competition time for a scramble practice was 90 seconds to load up and mount the crew vehicle just outside, the 70 seconds this scramble took was incredible. The small trucks now raced towards the aircraft, crews of 10 unloading at each of the five Saints. Some crew members at the cafe caught a lift on the backseat of a civilian's car, which they dismounted at the FOD line and made a 200 meter dash in what felt like world record time.

Soon, four Saints lined up for take off with another soon to follow. They were a part of the WMD defence of the nation, alongside theater air denial systems and long range radars, Arrow interceptors, sea patrols around the world with effective anti-aircraft missiles and the space-based detection network. These systems were at full alert in all 25 provinces of New Hayesalia, and while it may only be a cautious decision, the near-confirmed death of the President of a nuclear nation- one that might have axe to grind with New Hayesalia- couldn't be taken as anything less than an existential threat.

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Paddy O Fernature
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Paddy O Fernature » Sun Aug 09, 2015 8:38 pm

CHAPTER ONE: THE GATHERING DARKNESS

Presidential Address | Press Conference Center | Ministry Of Defense | The Next Day


Melissa Stern stood quietly next to the polished marble podium normally reserved for former President McBeth and waited patiently waited for her allotted time slot to come to pass. She was wearing traditional business attire in the form of a skirt and dress shirt, that was a dark grey almost black in appearance to help convey a sense of mourning, if only for show. She reached into her pocket and pulled forth her prepared speech, and went over it one last time to insure that she got it correct.

As the clock struck the top of the hour, the lights dimmed in the conference center and a spotlight gently flooded the podium with the appropriate amount of lighting. Taking a deep breath, Melissa confidently strode forward and ascended the stage before turning to stand directly behind the podium and facing the camera.

Code: Select all
"For those of you that don't know me, allow me to start tonight by introducing myself. I am Melissa Stern, daughter of Supreme Commander Edward Stern and personal friend and confident of President McBeth. For those of you watching at home inside the Dominion, and to those watching from abroad, I wish to personally thank you for tuning in and watching this Emergency broadcast from the Ministry Of Defense. I wish that I could be addressing this fine nation on better terms, but sadly that shall not be the case here tonight.

Rumors have been floating around the nation like a wildfire, and I wish to address the information that those of you listening may or may not have heard, and separate the fact from fiction. At approximately eleven thirty in the morning yesterday, President Wallace McBeth was assassinated in his personal office by a currently unknown assassin while he was working at his desk on a proposal for increasing educational funding. During this incident, two members of the presidents security detail were gunned down in the attack as well as my father, who died trying to save the President.

Tonight, this Dominion is in a state of mourning as we remember the passing of these legendary men, who had sacrificed the greater part of their lives to this nation and the people within it. With a heavy heart, I can honestly say that the world will be a different place without them in it to help guide those in need to greener pastures. However, our enemies has mistaken my fathers and President McBeth's kindness for weakness, and forced our hand by dealing us this double sucker punch from left field. As a Nation, I will not sit idly by and let these terms come to pass!

For too long now, our nations culture has been that of helping others in need and sacrificing for the greater good of those beyond our walls, and look where it has gotten us. I say it is high time that we start embracing a new ethic and a new creed, "Do unto others, before they do unto us". In the finial sacrifice of these two men, we have glimpsed what a new culture of responsibility should look like. The Dominion has finally been offered a unique opportunity in this horrible and cruel world to finally truly make a difference... and we must not let this moment pass!

Tonight, I Melissa Stern, under authority granted to me by the Continuation of Government Act of 2010, herby humbly accept the position of President of the Dominion and temporarily suspend all powers of Congress until this time of extreme crisis has come to pass. All military leave is cancelled effective immediately and all public servants are ordered to report to their supervisors for further instruction.

Rest assured that the Dominion will be steadfast in our purpose as we now press on full speed ahead. This nation has has paid the ultimate price, and we will not rest until those responsible for these hideous acts have been brought to justice by the heel of our military might.

Goodnight, and Godbless."


With her speech finished, she turned and calmly strode off the stage as the light faded behind her. As she walked down the corridor towards the exit, Melissa smiled to herself at what she had just gotten away with. Soon, the world would feel her wrath.

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Sarxland
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Ex-Nation

Rousing the dormant beast.

Postby Sarxland » Mon Aug 10, 2015 6:01 am

The Dominion's President assassinated, a new aggressive replacement at the head of one of the largest military's in the world, with access to powerful weaponry. And they had a policy of 'doing unto others before they do unto you'.

It was definitely a Drian... Or Monday if you lived outside of Sarxland.

Crown Princess Amelia looked over the electronic article her aide had forwarded to her, her Prime Minister, Lord Thomas Quarter stood at attention across her large oaken desk. You can take a man out of the military, but you can't take the military out of the man. Amelia thought.

'You always bring me the best news.' Amelia sighed, she tapped the link to a video of the President of the Dominion's inauguration speech... If you could call it that.

'She's gutsy.' Thomas said with a half smile. 'I can see her and Alison getting along quite well.'

'Maybe we should introduce them, your daughter could give her a solid right hook and bring this Melissa Stern to her senses. The Warpath is a particularly dangerous one in today's world. It's no longer about decimating armies, or even the ground they stand upon, today's warfare can easilly decimate continents.'

'Amelia, you're talking to a retired general. I know.' Thomas Chided her with a smile. 'I knew her father too. Only an acquittance mind you. We'd attended a few peace conferences and whatnot. Our sphere's of influence sometimes overlapped. I believe in one case they went in to liberate one half of a country trying to split off in a civil war, while we tried to colonise the other, back in the 80's... Things got heated, and interesting. Although I'm not sure if anyone remembers it all too well, considering the size of the conflicts we were both engaged in, I'm not sure our one battle and a dozen skirmishes made it into the text books. Porgan's wrath, if I hadn't been overseeing the 6th Armoured Regiment there I probably wouldn't know about this at all.'

'So we're not on friendly terms with the Dominion?' Amelia asked.

'We were, more or less. I'd healed quite a few scars through trade deals and diplomatic messages and all that. I even attended one of the old President's Birthday celebrations. You won't see any pictures of us shaking hands however, I was kept off to one side so to speak.'

'Must have been exciting.' Amelia paused, 'but they understand that we're... somewhat of a rival to them don't they?'

'Under this regime, certainly...' Thomas looked uncomfortable, more so than he had in the past two years. 'Things could be better between us, and this Melissa... She may want to bring the fight to us for whatever reason. Perhaps some of her friends died in that minor border dispute... It's something the RSIS spooks should look into.'

'I think RSIS should do some digging on pretty much anything we have on these people.' Amelia added, 'no actual spying, this new government is far too much of an anthill for us to go poking, just look up any and all info we have on them. Ply the internet, check facts and sources, dates. That sort of thing. We need to know what we may have to deal with if things turn violent.'

'Anything else Princess?' Thomas stood a little straighter as he awaited her final answer.

'And put the military on alert. It's been a while since old General Warton had the prospect of a good fight on his hands. I hope he has a plan ready.'

'He'll have ten for every scenario you can think of.' Thomas chuckled, bringing a thin smile to Amelia's lips.

'I'll bet. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to 'pen' a message to this new government. And then I'll be heading home to film AmeliaTime in the apartment,'

'I still can't believe you moved out of the palace sometimes.' Thomas shook his head in disbelief, 'your father would turn in his grave.'

'I like being closer to the people I 'rule', you know that. I may as well live like one, besides it's not like I have a small cupboard of a room either.'

'But you don't live on your own.' Thomas's eyebrow rose.

'Plenty of people have room mates Tom, the world's changed a lot in the past few decades, we have to change with it. To a degree.'

Thomas accepted her response and turned to leave, allowing her to send her message undisturbed.


Official Message from the Old Kingdom of Sarxland
Encryption: High, for the eyes of official diplomats and appropriate government officials only.
To: The New Government in the Dominion, under President Stern

Regardless of any past grievances our two nations have had, I wish to extend my condolences towards the death of your predecessor and father. As someone who has lost their father far too soon themself, you have my utmost, deepest sympathies!
I hope your transition to office is smooth and unchallengeable and, if you have need of aid in this period of transition, my government and I would be happy to lend it.
We live in an age of uncertainty, and times can be hard on even the greatest of us today. I hope your time in office is one of wisdom and temperance.


Sincerely:

Amelia Fryrd.
Crown Princess of Sarxland

PS. President Stern, I personally would like to wish you yourself the best of luck. The burdons of leadership can be quite heavy, I hope you can rise to the challenge.
A modernised, Pagan Feudal Country.
What more could you want?


"My enemies are many, My equals are none." - Motto of the combined Sarxland Armed Forces, the quote is originally attributed to Napoleon Bonaparte of France.

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The Tekkit Guy
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Founded: Feb 22, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby The Tekkit Guy » Mon Aug 10, 2015 6:32 pm

"Its an ultranationalist uprising; they're not terribly uncommon. I'm convinced this will pass or not be a problem to us." Said the Minster of Foreign Relations Carl Kesseler, sitting at the table of the elaborately decorated Assembly Hall of the Grand Imperial Palace.

"That would be the case, but not for a nation this powerful. This newly proclaimed president Melissa Stern is at the helm of a massive military force with nuclear capability. We have reason to believe the old president's assassination was linked to her in some way. We can't let them make any rash moves that could endanger our allies or trade partners." Replied Defense Minster James Charleson.

"And what 'reasons' might those be?" Asked Kesseler, skeptically.

"Well," Charleson replied, cautiously lowering his voice, "A few Secure Empire Agency operators who were...uh...'learning about' the Dominion's nuclear readiness happened to stumble upon a few plans hastily scrawled on paper in the Supreme Commander's home detailing escape routes, weapons, and the like. Look, as far as the world is concerned, this didn't happen. We're in the process of getting our agents out of the Dominion as we speak."

"I've told you time and time again, one day, the discovery of SEA will cause a diplomatic crisis and everyone is going to end up nuking each other!"

"That's not the point, we need to do something to discourage any aggression from the Dominion should they try anything. We have a Harbinger-class ballistic missile submarine carrying 8 thermonuclear warheads with a Mako-class nuclear attack submarine escort on deterrence patrol. Give the order to keep them submerged in international waters within firing range until further notice." Charleson commanded

As the order was given, the two submarines out at sea obeyed and held their position underwater.
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New Hayesalia
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Founded: Jul 21, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby New Hayesalia » Tue Aug 11, 2015 6:51 am

THE PRIME MINISTER'S JET, ABOVE THE ZYMQUE SEA [BETWEEN GRIMBANDO AND REVNAMI]

With his most important ministers, the Chief of Military and the Commander Joint Operations now connected to his aircraft by a top secret encryption, Prime Minister had access to a think tank the likes of which were rarely available to the rest of the globe. Through his command of the New Hayesalian Military and the resources available to him otherwise, the Prime Minister had an exceptional capability to respond to the growing crisis.

"Field Marshal Knight, can you tell me what the status of our forces is?" the Prime Minister asked after a brainstorming session with his Ministers.

"Well sir, we have the NHAF's anti-missile squadrons airborne in all 25 provinces. We're also preparing air refuellers to keep them airborne as long as you require them. We're reporting 92% of our ABM aircraft are airborne at this time. The GSAMS Command is reporting all systems online and the Air Force and Army radar elements are being sent in to their prelocated strategic positions. As you are aware our anti-missile capacity for the Navy is contained within our carrier action groups, which are separated into three sections. One third of our fleet is currently steaming around the world on various missions, another is undergoing shore repairs which leaves us the last third undergoing training and developing around New Hayesalia. They have all been retasked and as such we have naval aviation using airborne radars to hunt for any threats and our ships will be able to launch counter-assaults to that bombardment. The Netforce is also working to detect any launches through electronic means, and finally the Air Force Space Command is noting that their Sentry satellites are not detecting any launches. The Air Force has also stepped up anti-submarine patrols in cooperation with Navy due to potential submarine threats." the Field Marshal reported, not a shred of anxiety in his voice.

"Well that's great Field Marshal," the Deputy Prime Minister retorted, "but it's doing nothing to stem fears from our people that we're about to get fucking nuked!"

"Nelson!" the Prime Minister stepped in. "The National Police are ramping up, they'll prevent any chaos. We worry about this threat first and we deal with the political fallout later, not nuclear fallout. Pull yourself together."

"My apologies, Field Marshal." the Deputy PM quickly apologised. "But we must do something to let people know they'll be safe."

As the Prime Minister's jet came in to land at the North Revnami Air Force base, the Prime Ministerial helicopter now coming in also alongside five others to whisk Bolt away to the Military's National Operations Command Centre. Touching down lightly and with a group of media hanging out at the end of the runway, it was clear that the nation was watching the events unfolding with great alert.

PARLIAMENT COMPLEX, REVNAMI, NEXT DAY

"Flat white."
"Cappucino"
"Same for me"
"Latte"
"Flat white"

"And for you, Prime Minsiter?"

"Long, long black." the Prime Minister ended, taking a breath in and rubbing his eyes. He had been in the bowels of this command bunker, underground and at the conductors chair for the last day. His staff were hating his unavailability and the people were scared of the threat- some had not gone to work and a fair number of businesses were closed but with the extra police presence, nobody was considering riots or panics as a legitimate idea. New Hayesalia had been through too many crises in the last few months with the FSP issues.

In the conference room overlooking the main command room, walls of screens showing different data and the badges of the six military services on each wall provided the only real decor, and the young Marine taking coffee orders was nothing less than a saint to these assembled Ministers and aides. In the room, flat screen TVs showed the feed from the national news channel, Union 24/1. It was in the early morning that the yellow breaking news alert popped up on screen again, but this was one of the rare ones which actually caused the assembled to turn it up to listen. The Military had advised that Melissa Stern, daughter of the late General, was soon to give a live press conference. In attendance were a crew from Union 24/1 and an embassy staffer, being a member of the Foreign Intelligence Directorate of New Hayesalia.

"God, poor girl." the Deputy PM said, seeing the black-clad woman take the stage, receiving a "hmm" of agreeance from the Foreign Minister.

She began delivering her speech, the New Hayesalians considering each element of it.

"A new President of the Dominion. Dynastic succession if anything." the Prime Minister begun, outlining his thoughts. "Mobilisation of their forces. And bloodlust, but not against us it seems. Somewhere, someone is going to eat the wrath of the POF. Lauretta, who might they have a beef with?"

"Everyone basically." she said, simply. "But we should be ready to be called into action with regard to the Oppentin Agreement. The POF have the ability to call us to assist them, which could go any direction for us."

"What about other international reactions thus far, any developments?" the Prime Minister said, waiting for the Marine to dole out his coffees and leaving.

"Nothing substantive, but I've had a thought. Like anything that happens, we must be wary of nations that would pounce against our allies on their knees. Some nations out there, particularly those with Imperial ambition, see the Dominion as a ripe target."

The assembled paused, considering this remark. The Foreign Minister continued.

"We have staging bases and naval port access to the Dominion as you all are aware. While the POF have a pretty considerable defence force I would imagine they're more interested in acting against civil disturbance. It's likely that their force projection is going to be negatively influenced. We would have to get the Ambassador's approval, and it would be probably wise to fly the flag at half mast for the entire event."

"But we don't fly the flag at half-mast until the funeral, ma'am." the Commander Joint Operations said politely.

"Yes, nationally. But this would just be for the ships."

"Ma'am, on that note, we already have a small complement of ships from the 48th Carrier Action Group heading to the port of Last Landing to take on fuel and supplies. That's the six Conveyors and the Panache, one of our Vortex anti-submarine ship taking some repairs. They're about four hours away at this point." the Chief of Military intervened, getting information from the bluetooth like speaker in his ear.

"Prime Minsiter, with regard to this, what is the situation on our missile forces? Should we stand down?" the Defence Minister entered, following up on the Foreign Minister.

"I believe that the threat has lowered. I don't see, nor have we got reports about internal political struggles. But we still should stay vigilant." the PM replied. "I think there is reason to reduce our readiness to DEFCON 3, which is good as it gives us cover for mobilisation for operations in Fruria if we go through with it."

"I agree."

"Field Marshal, have our troops stand down. And have those ships take the ensigns to half mast, keep those sailors out of trouble." Bolt ordered.

"With pleasure, sir." his Chief replied, making orders down the headset.

"Lauretta, we need to take a minute to pen a letter to Madam President.




Image
Image

OFFICIAL DIPLOMATIC COMMUNICATION
COMPATIENS, LIBERA, ET CONTUMAX


To say that our nation is in mourning would be an immensely inadequate way of expressing our grief. The assault that has taken place against the Dominion is immense in it's influence and in the wide impacts in our world. My government, a true ally of the Dominion of Paddy O Fernature in war and in peace also extends it's welcome to office to President Melissa Stern. May it be known that whatever assistance our nation can render in this most hectic of times will be offered with speed and in faith. We hope that the Congress of the Dominion may be resumed with speed.

Wallace McBeth and the good General Stern were excellent men, both members of the Order of New Hayesalia, and we will be honoring them both with lowering the flags and ensigns of our nation to half mast on the dates of the late President's funeral. We will continue our engagements with the Dominion and we hope this most horrible occasion can serve as a platform for our bonds to solidify in the face of great adversity.

Official Message of the Greater Island Kingdom of New Hayesalia
Compatiens, Libera, et Contumax


Ministry of Foreign Affairs:
Building 4,
New Hayesalian Parliament Complex,
Revnami, New Hayesalian Capital Province
1604 1000 0000

Prime Ministers Office:
PO Box 1,
New Hayesalian Parliament Complex,
Revnami, New Hayesalian Capital Province
1600 1000 0016

Military Foreign Correspondence Directorate:
Military Headquarters,
MSHQ Building 8,
Revnami, New Hayesalian Capital Province
1788 1000 0000




NHS PANACHE, SEA, WEST FROM PADDY O FERNATURE

The sky was bright today, fine for the less politically apt New Hayesalians serving aboard the mechanically-challenged Vortex class antisubmarine warfare vessel. It was having some issues with a computer system, not necessarily vital if operating alone or in a small ship formation but in the considerably sized 48th Carrier Action Group it was potentially able to result in seaborne colissions, bad for all parties. For the crew aboard, the 36 hour repair stop in the POF port meant a slight break while the Conveyor supply ships took on various goods including fuel and dry supplies. The six vessels were a key part of power projection and the carrier groups were thankful for their availability, if not their speed. Moving in a column formation, the Panache in the tail end, the ships were slated to soon arrive in the Dominion. The news of the President's assassination had surely wiped all hopes of shore leave from their minds, unfortunately.

Aboard the ship, the sonar technicians were still at work. As their job in the Carrier Action Group was to detect sonar targets, using a variety of passive and active methods. On it's own and in the low threat environment of the Dominion, the Vortex class was not using active sonar or other devices- mostly out of avoiding environmental damage to whales, dolphins and the like. However it still maintained it's passive listening array, and the sonar operators were stuck listening to the churning of the six Conveyors ahead of them. One of these was Able Seaman Peter Linke, who sat monitoring his displays with his mind on the typical hobby of trying to hear a whale or a pod of dolphins.

As the ship progressed, the Able Seaman had an audible glimpse. It was barely anything, merely a hum or a chug not quite in the same tone as the six ships ahead. There had been no change in speed or heading, and even then the sound would've been distinct. This one he had heard had only lasted a few seconds, before vanishing once more. More than anything it may have only been a headphone moving... right?

User avatar
Cosedonia
Envoy
 
Posts: 308
Founded: Oct 29, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Cosedonia » Tue Aug 11, 2015 6:04 pm

Sorry to intrude. Just asking, can the Cosedonian Ambassador be my character? I don't really know. I just like this rp.
Last edited by Cosedonia on Tue Aug 11, 2015 6:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Oesterra
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 392
Founded: Aug 09, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Oesterra » Tue Aug 11, 2015 6:49 pm

Don Pueblo Golf Course, Sacramito, Sacramito Federal District, Oesterra
President Aaron Schwarzreiter wiped sweat off his forehead while walking to get a drink of water. Vice President Johnny Binder caught up with him.

"You hear the news?" The VP asked.

"What's going on, Johnny?" Aaron replied. "President of the Dominion's dead. Assassination." Johnny answered, solemnly. "And is the replacement fit to run such a large nation? Just how much of a power gap does this leave? If it was an assassination, surely the acquisition of power, or the destabilization of the nation, was the ultimate goal. I'm gonna schedule a speech once we return to the capitol. We will send our condolences."

Oesterra Capitol, Sacramito, Sacramito Federal District, Oesterra

Aaron Schwarzreiter stepped up to the podium. "I am here today to extend my condolences to the people of The Dominion. Their great leader, President McBeth, was murdered on August 9th, 2015 of the WCO Standard Calendar. To this, we show our solemn respect for an irreplaceable leader. We wish the new President Stern great amounts of luck in such tough times. God bless Oesterra, and God bless the Dominion. The president stepped off the podium, and approached the door. Lines of reporters barraged him with flashes of light.

"Mister President! Do you know what group is behind the assassination?" Turning to face the reporter, he replied: "The EAA is spread thin with all of our AFR-related operations. We cannot provide a comprehensive report on this foreign matter. For now, all we can do is wish the mourning nation luck. Thank you." The President continued down his path, and the doors opened, leading him into the restricted inner chambers of the capitol building. He sighed. "This is going to be a long day."
.....

User avatar
Cosedonia
Envoy
 
Posts: 308
Founded: Oct 29, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Cosedonia » Tue Aug 11, 2015 7:12 pm

Time: 6:00. Place: President's Manor, Grasslands.
The President was watching the CBS, Cosedonian Broadcasting Service.
Victor Baillairgé, the President, was interested in the events.
How did the Guards not stop this? Victor thought to himself.
"Jeremy." Victor called his Butler.
"Yes, Mr. President?" Jeremy answered whilst the rain poured outside.
Jeremy just finished cleaning the Kitchen.
"Call Schwarzreiter." Victor told Jeremy.
"The President of Oesterra, Sir?" Jeremy asked.
"Yes, Jeremy, and hurry, there is no time." Victor replied, making it sound like something was wrong.
Jeremy walked out of the Office, were he swiped his keycard to the Living Room. He called Aaron.

User avatar
Oesterra
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 392
Founded: Aug 09, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Oesterra » Tue Aug 11, 2015 7:16 pm

The Hexagonal Office, The Blue House, Sacramito, Sacramito Federal District, Oesterra
The phone rang, to which Aaron quickly picked up. As he looked down on the mounted caller ID displayed, he realized it was the Cosedonians.

"Hello?" He spoke.
.....

User avatar
Cosedonia
Envoy
 
Posts: 308
Founded: Oct 29, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Cosedonia » Tue Aug 11, 2015 7:23 pm

Time: 6:01. Place: President's Manor, Grasslands.
"Hello, I am Jeremy Fizagerld. I am the Cosedonian President's Offical Butler."
"I speak to call you to a meeting."

User avatar
The Tekkit Guy
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 475
Founded: Feb 22, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby The Tekkit Guy » Tue Aug 11, 2015 7:53 pm

TNS Centaur, nuclear ballistic missile submarine

"Cap'n, we got warships above and ahead." Announced the sonar officer, pointing towards his console with a series of sound oscillation lines.

"Who are they? Are they searching for us or trying to attack us?" Captain Ivan Vanots asked.

"We don't really know anything specific about them, sir, and an active sonar ping would give us away. Those are definitely vessels of war; could be hostile. Its a big ship, probably a carrier, and some smaller ships." The officer replied.

"All stop, maximum quiet! Shut down anything not vital to keeping the sub alive, relay this to our escort." The captain ordered.

"All stop aye, shutting down hydraulics and machinery." Announced the helmsman

The two submarines drifted side by side, quiet in the ocean. In the mess hall of the TNS Centaur, however, one of the crewmen lost his balance carrying away dishes to the galley. As the metal tray of plates came crashing to the ground, all the submariners in the room cringed and said their prayers.
"The Tekkit Guy" is my username, "The Holy Tekkit Empire" is my country.

Read my Nation's IIWiki Page! http://iiwiki.com/wiki/The_Holy_Tekkit_Empire

User avatar
Republic of Vectors
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1744
Founded: Jun 16, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Republic of Vectors » Tue Aug 11, 2015 9:41 pm

Like many nations before it, the Supernation received word of the POF assassinations. Unlike many nations however, word came through local media channels and standard diplomatic news lines. Military officials almost immediately called for the securing of the government in their strategic wartime shelters. However there was no national alarm, no mass panic, it was all calm and orderly. It was calm and orderly because very few people remembered the rocky ending of the first major Vectorian defeat in its young age; losing tens of thousands of sailors and hundreds of airmen in a forty eight hour span. The ripples were still seen in the population of that generation, several older families were still terribly sore at the opponents of that war. But they seemed to have been too busy to notice. Those, whom had remembered, were almost entirely composed of military officers whom had studied ‘Tactics in History ECHTO349B’ at the Vectorian national officer training camp. And if they remembered, that meant some people in POF remembered as well. Unfortunately.

Mount Vectors, Nuclear National Command Center

“It was back in the days of ‘Down with the Crown’, terrible times indeed.” The Foreign Affairs Minister started. The chubby man was on a live teleconference with the Vectorian president, whom was sitting surrounded by two long rows of military officials on the sides of a glass topped table of which he claimed the head. The Vectorian president braced for a long explanation, promptness was never a strong point of this minister. “This was a conflict when Irentian was around. Which was what, twenty years ago maybe? Perhaps moe. Hmmmm. I’ll have to think on that. So when Irenitan was having…” They say it isn’t over until the fat lady starts singing. Whomever wrote that quote had no idea how horrible it was listening to this fat man speak; but only this man. He just seemed to get on everyone’s nerves with every word he said.”

“That’s enough Minister Turkmesh. We have all read the briefing packages on our way here. However I am unsure the official opposition received a copy of that. Make sure you tell them every last detail about what has happened. We have much to discuss over here.” The grizzled man whom served as lifelong president spoke, much to the amazement of his surrounding entourage. He rarely interjected such a meeting.

“Uh, yes. Uh, umm. Okay.” The Minister stammered, clearly flustered at the polite attempt to tell him to leave. A technician cut the feed and the President turned to the table.

“So,” The president exclaimed; “let’s have somebody here give me the brief version of what happened.” Everyone at the table looked around, clearly no one having read the briefing package just to revise it with the FA minister.

“Okay then, that was expected. General Rejardi, please pull something up for us.” The President glanced over at a man in a dark grey full dress uniform, three rows of medals over his heart and six campaign pins on the side of his olive green dress beret. Vectorian General Two, whom led the Intelligence community nodded his head and looked down at the glass table top and awkwardly tapped several spots. Visible only to his small angle of view, he raced through countless intelligence reports about topics covering the globe and beyond. Finally he accessed the secure administrator network and opened the newly created folder for this developing event. It still took two whole minutes to find what he was looking for. The General finally glanced through the pages on a document and tapped a symbol to share the document with the rest of the table. The document was sent to everyone’s table spot and shared to the giant screen at the head of the domed war room nearly a kilometer and a half under sea level and under a mountain.

“Letz start with ze vidio.” The Vectorian General said, his Frodian accent clearly showing. The same emergency conference that Melissa Stern had given was shown to everyone in the huge room, with people on the catwalks far behind and above pausing to watch as well. It was a dramatic video, Melissa was rather convincing. “And zat,” The General sighed, shrugging his shoulders; “Iz all we knowz.”

“Okay, great.” The President nearly whispered. “Who cares about that? Why is the first day of my vacation being cut short due to a freak event?” The Presidents voice was steadily rising. “Heck, I never heard of POF until now!” He was almost yelling; his voice had raised a large amount in a short period of time, much to the fear of his entourage.

“To answer that question Sir, we have brought in one of our officers. Captain Black from the 101st Airborne Division. After waiting a few moments in silence the large plate metal doors leading into the room slid into the walls and the Captain walked in flanked by an irritated looking Royal Guard. Captain Black had to walk nearly a half mile, down two flights of stairs in a very anticlimactic walk to get to where he could speak. His footsteps were lost among the sounds of dozens of other people in the room doing their duties. After a wait which seemed to last forever, he finally stepped in front of a podium slightly higher than the table.

“Greetings Sirs.” The Captain started, saluting sharply. ” Thirteen years ago Vectors entered the conflict code named “Down with the Crown”. During this conflict, we entered direct war against the POF enemy, inflicting hundreds of casualties. While we took many fold more, both in dead and wounded, there is still resentment against our glorious nation. Even some of our people feel angry at the POF and would jump on a chance to fight them again.” He looked at the President and asked “Do you require any more information Sir?”

“Just one question.” The President replied then looked to the table. “Why am I in the nuclear bunker for this event? It seems small enough to pass over. It WAS thirteen years ago.”

“A fair question Sir.” The Captain said, taking the liberty of the rare moment to address the Chief of Forces. “POF has a considerable, highly capable arsenal of WMDs at their immediate disposal, and we have no idea if this wack job,” The captain declared, pointing at the frozen image of Melissa stern “can launch a couple our way for shits and giggles.” The table sat frozen for a few seconds as his wild remarks set in.

“I see then. Thank you for filling us in. Please return to your station.” The captain nodded, saluted again and walked out of the complex.

“Well Gentlemen, please prepare me a list of suggestions. I will be retiring to my quarters for some R and R to make up for a lost vacation time. Again.” The President respectfully stood and walked out of the room, with a large contingent of power suit bearing guards falling in around him.

“Now how are we supposed to fix this?” Vectorian General Six Asked rhetorically. The table looked blank searching for a reply.

Eighth National Battle Fleet, International Waters

“Sir! Message from High Command. All NBFs are to return to Homeland and her Colonies.” The Admiral looked at the radio officer inquiringly, and thought to himself ‘this CANNOT be good. He then replied

“Get us home on the double.”

Mount Justus, Secondary National Command Center

“We have received orders to initiate all Tier Three defensive measures. ABM, reserve notification, patrol augmentation, everything. Get it done. But we are not raising DEFCON. This will be a discreet preparation.
The Supernation of the Republic of Vectors. factbook for more details.

Top 0.1% for world's largest defense force (164th in the world)
Top 0.2% for world's largest arms manufacturing sector (312th in the world)
Top 0.2% for world's safest (315th in the world)

Embassy Program

User avatar
New Hayesalia
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7454
Founded: Jul 21, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby New Hayesalia » Wed Aug 12, 2015 9:11 pm

NHS PANACHE

On the bridge of the NHS, newly-minted Captain Melissa Kiole sat in the black dress uniform of the New Hayesalian Navy. Wide-eyed for her first port visit as Captain, she and five others would be meeting with the NH liasion officer, a Commodore, and the Military attache, a Major General. From the bowels of her ship's sonar section, the fair-haired though 'robust' Captain received a request.

"You want to send an active sonar ping?" she replied into the telephone.

"Aye, ma'am." the reply from the sonar watch officer came. "One of our technicians caught an audio glimpse, just a slight change, on his sonar. It was like a slight hum, like one of our Conveyors had just dropped another propeller or something. It disappeared after a couple of seconds. I've brought down a few more techies and I've listened to it myself and we're all of the opinion that it's something strange, not necessarily dangerous or whatever, but a short ping to get an idea of what we're looking at would be appreciated."

"Right." The Captain glanced over to the ship's executive officer, repeating what the Lieutenant had told her.

"Whales?" the XO replied, interested.

"Lieutenant, any chance of it being marine life?" she said, simply.

"We don't believe so, not unless we've run into Cthulhu, ma'am."

"Roger that. Alright, let's do it. Three sequences, if you get anything, let us know."

"Aye ma'am, three sequences."

"Roger, out."

In the sonar room, the staff began the proceedings, activating the active sonar arrays on the ship's hull and sending out three ten-second cycles of pings, hoping to pick up something mildly interesting.

User avatar
The Tekkit Guy
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 475
Founded: Feb 22, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby The Tekkit Guy » Thu Aug 13, 2015 4:57 am

Tension was tangible in air aboard the Centaur. The crew was silently panicking, knowing their position had been given away. They could do practically nothing than wait and hope the unknown vessels would pass without trouble. That hope was shattered after the first ping hit, producing an audible "bang" to complement it as the sound wave hit the hull. Whoever was above was clearly out to get them. Their advanced Mako-class nuclear attack submarine escort was over a decade newer, and hopefully the new flexible coating would absorb the sonar, at least sparing them from detection.

"Dammit we've been pinged" announced the captain. "Come starboard to heading 190, make your depth 1300 meters..." he was interrupted by yet another ping, 10 seconds later.

"Sir, 1300 is dangerously close to crush depth." replied the dive officer, nervously.

"I know, but its also too close to the ocean floor for the active sonar to distinguish us, thankfully the ground isn't too far below us. I don't think they know exactly what we are." the captain said. "Hail the escort sub, tell her to break off and return to Terrace as quickly and quietly as possible."

Another ping bounced off the hull. The submarine had a bit of an odd shape to it, it wouldn't look like any other submarine. To accommodate the tall Hayabusa ballistic missiles, the back had to have a considerably elevated section.

"Sir, the ships are getting awful close to our location. I'm worried they might have found us." warned the Sonar officer

"Very well, accelerate the dive, 30 degree down bubble, fill the main ballast tanks."

Back in Terrace, the Cabinet knew the value of that submarine. It was their only bargaining chip with the Dominion should talks go badly. The worst part about their information on the assassination is that they couldn't tell anyone about it without their state-of-the-art espionage program being exposed.
"The Tekkit Guy" is my username, "The Holy Tekkit Empire" is my country.

Read my Nation's IIWiki Page! http://iiwiki.com/wiki/The_Holy_Tekkit_Empire

User avatar
New Hayesalia
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7454
Founded: Jul 21, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby New Hayesalia » Thu Aug 13, 2015 7:24 am

MESSAGE FROM NHS PANACHE TO THE HEADQUARTERS, DOMINION MILITARY
Code: Select all
[SEC=TOPSECRET]
>NHS PANACHE [ASW95]
>TO HQ-POF-M
>ATTN: NH DIPLOMATIC POSTS POF
NH MILITARY HQ
DEPT OF PM&C
MINDEF


>> REPORT PRESENCE DETECTED, UNKNOWN NATION SUBMARINES AT COORDINATES **************** WITHIN POF EEZ.

>> REPORT 1x GUIDED MISSILE SUBMARINE MATCH [90% ACCURACY]
>> REPORT 1x UNKNOWN ATTACK SUBMARINE [85% ACCURACY]

>> NHS PANACHE REQUEST INFORMATION AS TO POF NAVAL OPERATIONS AND.OR EXERCISES IN RADIUS 100 NAUTICAL MILES OF COORDINATES **********

>> POTENTIAL EMERGENCY EVENT

>> OUT

this message remains the property of the new hayesalian government. inform the sender if you have received this message inadvertently. failure to comply is an offence under the Defence Act 2009.
Last edited by New Hayesalia on Fri Aug 14, 2015 5:24 am, edited 1 time in total.

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The Tekkit Guy
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 475
Founded: Feb 22, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby The Tekkit Guy » Fri Aug 14, 2015 5:10 am

Ocean bottom, 1312 meters below the surface.

"No more pings, sir, it could mean they're not interested." said the sonar officer

"Or they've already identified us and are preparing their depth charges. Let's play dead for a while just to be safe."

The submarine sat at the ocean floor quietly, although its mako-class escort took off at full speed. Escort submarine crews were taught to sacrifice themselves to save their ballistic submarine escortees. With a bit of luck, the TNS Ninepin could lead the pursuers on a chase, far away from the TNS Centaur, plot a course for the north pole, and then hide under the ice caps until they could rendezvous with the Arctic Flotilla, and pretend like they had been there the whole time. It was risky, but she was fast enough to do it. Defense Headquarters had lost all contact when the Centaur went deep, and were beginning to get concerned the submarine was compromised, but they couldn't ask the coast guard, or any other nation, for help, because this mission technically "didn't exist".

Meanwhile, a Tekkitian 757 in VIP configuration was flying ambassador Johnathan Waterman to verify the legitamacy of this new POF government. He was instructed not to escalate tensions, but be firm enough to find out the nature of this recent assassination, and under what authority was the incumbent president given leadership. He was sworn by oath not to reveal the existence of SEA, after all, the agents were still in the country. A message had been sent out to the Dominion government wishing for diplomatic talks regarding the nature of their new government. If things got violent, however, he was allowed to use the Centaur's weapons as a threat, but had no authorization to actually launch them.
"The Tekkit Guy" is my username, "The Holy Tekkit Empire" is my country.

Read my Nation's IIWiki Page! http://iiwiki.com/wiki/The_Holy_Tekkit_Empire

User avatar
Paddy O Fernature
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12336
Founded: Sep 30, 2010
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Paddy O Fernature » Wed Aug 19, 2015 11:11 am

Office Of The President | Presidium Level | Ministry Of Defense | May 2015


Melissa stood quietly in the former Presidents office, looking out the exact same window that McBeth had been on the morning of their fateful encounter. She let her gaze wander around the view that presented itself before her, and she couldn't help but wonder what the late president had found so damned entertaining in this fruitless endeavor.

Turning around briskly, she dismissed the notion as she walked over to the lavish hardwood desk that now belonged to her, which still bore a crimson stain upon it's polished surface, and seated herself. Already, international communications and responses were pouring in from around the known world about her sudden ascension into power at the head of the Dominion that needed her attention. With a wave of her hand over a motion sensor built into the interactive desktop surface, she pulled up her recently updated and installed correspondence system and began to type away several responses.

Image


-INCOMING COMMUNICATION FROM THE DOMINION-


TO: Crown Princess of Sarxland | FROM: Office of the President | SUBJECT: Reply | ENCRYPTION: None


You're Highness,

First, let me start this dialog by saying that I appreciate your concern and condolences for the loss of both my father and dear friend. The loss of these two great men is still being heavily felt across this great nation, and I feel that gaping void left behind by their passing will be felt for some time to come. Rest assured however, that those found responsible for this insidious act will dealt with swiftly and without mercy, for so long as I am still drawing breath, I will not rest until the people who did this and everyone like them are removed from the face of this planet.

Secondly, you're offer of what I can only assume to be diplomatic and economic aid must sadly be denied at this time. During this transitional period of uncertainty and possible turmoil, I am ordering that certain measures be taken to... insure Dominion territorial and economical assets are secure from any further threats that may be lurking in the darkness. Your offer though, will remain on the table for the time being, and when things have cooled down sufficiently, I will be sure to personally reevaluate this proposition.

Sincerely,
Image
President


Image


-INCOMING COMMUNICATION FROM THE DOMINION-


TO: Prime Minister Hayes | FROM: Office of the President | SUBJECT: Reply | ENCRYPTION: None


Prime Minister,

Thank you for reaching out to us in this time of great need and uncertainty and extending to us your condolences for our loss. The loss of these two great men is still being heavily felt across both our great nation, and I feel that gaping void left behind by their passing will be felt for some time to come. However, I want to to know that those found responsible for this most evil act will dealt with swiftly and without mercy, for so long as I am still drawing breath, I will not rest until the people who did this and everyone like them are removed from the face of this planet.

I will personally and respectfully pass along the dates for the state funeral to be held in honor of both these men when that information becomes available to me. With the investigation still underway, the bodies haven't been released yet for a proper burial. I do hope that this comes to pass sooner, rather then later.

As for you're forces and the military agreement set between our two nation by the late administration, rest assured that I will honor any and all agreements made prior to my coming into office. However, I must respectfully ask that all shore leave into the Dominion be restricted for the time being due to heightened national security concerns. Do not take this as a sign of mistrust, it's just standard operating procedure for these types of things.

Sincerely,
Image
President


The phone sitting on the right side of her desk suddenly broke the silence as it rang a mild, yet pleasant tone. Reaching out with her right hand, she picked up the receiver and pulled it close to her ear.

"Madam President Speaking..." She said in a cool, calm voice.

"Is the line secure?" Came a deep voice from the other end of the line. Reaching out again, Melissa depressed a small button next to her receiver for a few moments until it illuminated green, indicating an encrypted and secure line.

"It is now." She replied. "Report!"

"Madam President, Operation Fire-sale has run into a small problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"Your fathers hour Ma'am, It's clean. Too clean. I have reason to believe that someone may have already been here before us."

A look of concern flashed across Melissa's face for a moment, before being replace with that of almost pure anger.

"I want answers, and I want them like yesterday! I want you to find out who's behind this and fucking uncover what they may or may not already know. I don't care how you do it, or what it costs, just fucking make it happen or else i'll fucking cut off your balls and feed them to my dog. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes Madam President!" Came the painfully nervous reply from the field operative, before he quickly hung up the phone and went to work.

Melissa slammed the phone down upon her desk and leaned back in her new chair angrily. The last thing she needed now was this shit making her life even more difficult, as foreign entities on Dominion soil was practically unheard of these days, meaning someone somewhere wasn't doing their job and needed to pay for it.

"Time to go fishing..." she muttered under her breath before picking up her phone again and direct dialing the MOD.

"This is President Stern, conduct a full spectrum readiness drill for all Strategic Weapons and test the national emergency alert system. I want the results on my desk by morning."

She hung up the phone and leaned back into the chair again. Only this time, she was smiling.

Highland Navel Base | Southern Regional HQ

Ensign Perry was tired.

Last night was his twenty first birthday and the young man in proper tradition and military fashion had over indulged a little too much and was now paying for it. The man rubbed his temple as he fought off the urge to just curl up and die quietly under his post station. It wasn't helping any that his job today was to sort through incoming communications and transfer them accordingly, which was an incredibly dull job most the time and would make him yawn even on a normal day.

One could imagine the look on the young mans face, when a priority message flashed across his screen.

Perry stared at it for a moment, before tapping the "print screen" button on his display, kicking the noisy little printer to life sitting next to his station.

"What is it Ensign?" Asked the on duty Officer who noticed the commotion from a short distance away and proceeded to make his way over.

"Priority message from New Hay sir." He said as he handed the slip of freshly printed paper over his shoulder to the Lieutenant now standing behind him.

Code: Select all
    [SEC=TOPSECRET]
    >NHS PANACHE [ASW95]
    >TO HQ-POF-M
    >ATTN: NH DIPLOMATIC POSTS POF
    NH MILITARY HQ
    DEPT OF PM&C
    MINDEF


    >> REPORT PRESENCE DETECTED, UNKNOWN NATION SUBMARINES AT COORDINATES **************** WITHIN POF EEZ.

    >> REPORT 1x GUIDED MISSILE SUBMARINE MATCH [90% ACCURACY]
    >> REPORT 1x UNKNOWN ATTACK SUBMARINE [85% ACCURACY]

    >> NHS PANACHE REQUEST INFORMATION AS TO POF NAVAL OPERATIONS AND.OR EXERCISES IN RADIUS 100 NAUTICAL MILES OF COORDINATES **********

    >> POTENTIAL EMERGENCY EVENT

    >> OUT

    this message remains the property of the new hayesalian government. inform the sender if you have received this message inadvertently. failure to comply is an offence under the Defence Act 2009.


The Officer upon reading the message immediately turned and briskly made his way command display located in the center of the room. Using it's interactive surface, he pulled up the grid reference and zoomed in on the area in question. Much to his disliking, there wasn't anything Dominion within 50 NM of the AO in question.

He returned to Perry's station quickly and leaned in close to the man.

"Send the following message to our friends." He said as he waited for the Ensign to make ready.

"Set." Said Perry after a brief moment of pulling up communication forms.

Code: Select all
[SEC=TOPSECRET]
ATTN: NHS PANACHE [ASW95]
FM: Highland Navel Base - HQ 11 Actual
>> REPORT RECIEVED, UNKNOWN NATION SUBMARINES AT COORDINATES **************** WITHIN POF EEZ....
>> NO DOMINION NAVEL ASSETS WITHIN FIVE ZERO NAUTICAL MILES OF AO....
>> UNKNOWN CONTACTS HAVE BREACHED SOVEREIGNTY ZONE WITHOUT PERMISSION AND SHOULD BE CONSIDERED HOSTILE....
>> MOD REQUESTS IMMEDIATE ACTION BY NHS PANACHE TO IDENTIFY AND APPREHEND IF POSSIBLE....
>> DOMINION REINFORCEMENTS BEING MUSTERED AND DISPATCHED. ETA THREE ZERO MIKES. [/END]


"Message away sir." Said Perry.

"Good. Now scramble ASW assets immediately."

"Right away sir." Siad Perry as he complied.

It was going to be a long day...

Proud Co-Founder of The Axis Commonwealth - Would you like to know more?
Mallorea and Riva should resign
SJW! Why? Some nobody on the internet who has never met me accused me of being one, so it absolutely MUST be true! *Nod Nod*

User avatar
New Aerios
Minister
 
Posts: 2250
Founded: Apr 19, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby New Aerios » Wed Aug 19, 2015 12:38 pm

Centurion Defence Solutions inc. Head Office, Divitae, New Aerios

The garage doors slid shut behind the sleek silhouette of the Velocia Panther GT as it coasted to a halt in the underground car park, clinical white lights highlighting every curve of the luxury automobile. The door opened automatically, locking into the open position with a barely audible click. A man stepped out, straightening his crimson tie as he strode towards the nearby lift, the doors once again opening automatically as he drew near. The interior of the lift was just as luxurious as the car, all oak panels and gold bordering the mirrored walls. One way glass, of course. The man knew that. He had it installed in the first place. Philip Hunter, CEO of Centurion Defence Solutions Incorporated, the largest private military corporation in New Aerios, disembarked on the top floor, heading down the long, oak panelled corridor to his office. There were already people awaiting his arrival. Marshal Titus Lockhart and Intelligence Coordinator Antonio Devereux sat in two black leather chair either side of Hunter's desk, and the shadowy face of the perpetually elusive "Octavia" flickered across a nearby computer screen. Hunter paused for a moment by his drinks cabinet, before shaking his head and turning to his colleagues.
"I'm glad you could all be present today. This is an important meeting."
"You know, I still don't have a bloody clue what this is about."
"I'm surprised Octavia hasn't already enlightened you, Marshal. It's about the Dominion's new leadership. More specifically, the fate of the Dominion's old leadership."
"Assassin killed the President, daughter of some military man takes over?"
"At first glance, yes. Octavia seems to believe there's a little more to it than that. Care to inform us?"
"Thank you, Philip. I picked up a soundbite from the time of the assassination. Purely by chance, we had a satellite passing over the location at the time. It wasn't much, but I've spoken to a friend, and he's analysed it. Playing it now."

There was a moment's silence, before the speakers started up again. A couple of seconds of static hiss, followed by a voice and a gunshot. The recording cut out at that point, but the words had been unmistakable. Hail Kraven. Hunter raised his eyebrows. Octavia continued.
"We couldn't match the voice to any known recordings, sound quality wasn't good enough. The gunshot, however..."
"Go on."
"10 millimetre revolver. Compact. And rare. Which makes narrowing down our suspects a lot easier. My associate has already run a search on known owners of similar weapons. A few hundred or so. Here's the interesting part- you do realise you're paying me for this, right?"
"As usual, Octavia. I've already wired you the money. The information. Now."
"One of the names on our list was very interesting indeed."
"I don't have all day."
"President McBeth."
"Did I hear you correctly?"
"Indeed you did, Philip. President McBeth owned two custom compact 10 millimetre revolvers. Specially commissioned. Whoever killed him knew this, and knew where he kept them. A close associate."
"Phenomenal work as usual, Octavia. I'm damn glad you're working for me."
"Thank you, Philip. I'm damn glad you're paying me."

The screen went blank. She was gone. Lockhart rose from his chair. "Sir, we need to send in forces!" Devereux merely smiled. "I believe what this requires is an investigation. A discreet one."
"That too, but we still need an armed presence!"
"Marshal Lockhart, it is quite hard for a tank to conduct a discreet investigation, don't you think? Phi- Sir, do you agree?"
"Yes. Save the guns for later, Marshal. Devereux is right on this one. We need to look into this."

A few hours later, New Galway(?), Dominion

A rather unremarkable grey taxi came to a halt in front of an equally unremarkable hotel, an ugly concrete and glass building that had clearly seen better days. The man in the back hesitated, checking his briefcase once again, before speaking in a hushed tone to the driver.
"All the documents are in here, yes?"
"Yes. You're a visiting diplomat from Great Forentia. It's a real country, essentially private property of Centurion, but we've set it up like your typical tiny little microstate monarchy. No links back to us. It'll stand up to scrutiny, yes."
"Excellent. And this will get me in to the offices?"
"No guarantee. You might have to get in the old fashioned way if it doesn't. Anyway, you're staying here for tonight. Work starts tomorrow."
"Thank you. I'll be in touch if I find anything."

With that, the man opened the back door of the taxi and jogged to the hotel, holding up his briefcase to shield his head from the rain. Checking in with the bored looking young woman at reception, he climbed the stairs to his room and collapsed on the bed. He was going to need all the rest he could get. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

The next day

Now dressed in a smart navy suit, the man was dropped off by a rather more glamorous vehicle outside the Ministry of Defense. A guard manning the gate motioned for him to stop, glancing back at the rifle slung over his shoulder. Feigning a worried look, the man hurriedly pulled his papers from his briefcase, walking over to the guard to show them to him.
"Yes, hello, I'm Ambassador Romano, Julius Romano, of Great Forentia. I believe I have an appointment here? Well, I hope I do, at least. 25 hour flights aren't pleasant at the best of times."
"Wait here. Let me check."
-------------------------------I--M--P--E--R--I--V--M----N--O--V--A----A--E--R--I--O--S---------------------------------
"No matter how worthy the cause, it is robbery, theft, and injustice to confiscate the property of one person and give it to another to whom it does not belong"

"Prior to capitalism, the way people amassed great wealth was by looting, plundering and enslaving their fellow man. Capitalism made it possible to become wealthy by serving your fellow man."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

User avatar
New Hayesalia
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7454
Founded: Jul 21, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby New Hayesalia » Thu Aug 20, 2015 3:03 am

NHS PANACHE

Alert sirens blared in the ship. The voice of the officer of the watch blared with them- "man battle stations, man battle stations, man battle stations!" Through the ship the well-rehearsed drill saw fatigues-wearing sailors donning their personal protective gear including anti-flash gear and for others on the deck manning the HMG and bridge positions, CBAS body armour and helmets. Grey-wearing sailors rushed through the decks, manning their stations in the sonar and torpedo rooms.

On the deck, the Captain now wore her battle equipment with a formal uniform in a weird cross between the sea battles of the 20th Century and the technologies of today. In the aft, pilots and observers now rushed to their two EC-725 helicopters, with Panache 1 soon to be followed by Panache 2, both with dangling active sonar towed arrays to hunt for the two sighted ships. On the Panache, active measures were being deployed. The long towed array was being dropped from the aft, with the vertical array being extended beneath. The Vortex ship had an effective range of 65 nautical miles, and with the two helicopters and a known last position in the minutes leading up to this event tracking the submarines was likely to be an easy dip.

The leading Conveyor ships broke into a combat formation, with their crews also attending battle stations and accelerating to full steam, leaving the Panache on it's own behind. That being said they also launched helicopters, the flight due to maintain an orbit around the AO until required. Already, POF Air Force and Navy assets were being deployed.

Aboard the Panache, sailors manned stations with speed and intensity. There was no indication this was a drill and with the existence of a wide variety of Navies with varying levels of skill and question-asking-before-shooting-ability there was always a threat of action.

With the aircraft now lifted off and the ship known to be within just a few miles of the submarines, active sonar pinging from three sources and more on the way, the second detection would hopefully be made in the coming minutes - although the New Hayesalians were already sharing known coordinates, just in case a carpet depth charging campaign was the will of the Paddy's.

User avatar
The Tekkit Guy
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 475
Founded: Feb 22, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby The Tekkit Guy » Thu Aug 20, 2015 4:31 am

OOC: my earlier post did say "international waters", but I'm going with my subs being in the POF sovereign waters because its more interesting.

TNS Centaur, Ocean Floor, 12 hours later

"Any noise topside?" Asked the captain.

"They're still there, sir. I think they're trying to wait us out...hold on, new contacts entering the area. They're warships too." The Sonar Officer reported, quietly.

"Very well. Run the reactor on bare minimum." The captain said back, quietly. The submarine had the ability to stay submerged indefinitely if it weren't for food supplies, which could only last 4 months. Resting on the ocean floor, they were indistinguishable the ground to active sonar, and so long as they made no very loud noise, passive sonar could not pick them up either.

TNS Ninepin, 300 meters deep, same time

The swift nuclear attack submarine was gliding slowly through the water quietly until they were a considerable distance away.

"Okay, we're out of torpedo range, time to go loud. All ahead full, cavitation safety off, run the reactor on maximum power mode." The captain ordered.

"All ahead, aye sir. Reactor is spinning up to full power."

The submarine lurched forward as it accelerated rapidly, nearing 40 knots and still gaining speed. Mako-class submarines used a lead-cooled fast reactor, able to put out incredible amounts of energy for a very lightweight design, and also could switch between high-power and extra-silent modes very quickly. That combined with their very light titanium hulls allowed them to achieve incredibly fast speeds. They were producing a very loud noise in the water, most certainly giving away their location, but it didn't matter. They were out of range and much faster than the large surface ships they identified earlier. They could reach the safety of the Arctic Ice Caps in a few days.

"Are they following us?" the captain asked.

"Impossible tell, sir. We're going so fast that sonar can't hear anything on the surface."

"Very well, continue ahead as planned." He said. "The Tekkitian Arctic Flotilla had better be there."

Defense Headquarters Sublevel 4.5: SEA Headquarters, Terrace, Tekkit Empire

Computers, flatscreens, and control consoles were neatly organized in the large room. At the front of the room was a screen covering the entire wall with a map of the world, with all ongoing operations highlighted on it. Agents relayed information to each other, with dozens of voices overlapping: warning, informing, and instructing.

"Any word on our agents in POF?" asked The Supervisor. He was a shady man in a dark suit and fedora who oversaw the entire Secure Empire Agency. He was a man arguably more powerful then the Premier General, with access to nuclear launch codes from a number of nations as well as information that could destabilize entire governments.

"No sir, but its safe to assume they're still in the Dominion. If they've been found, they would have activated their emergency beacon." Replied agent Maderos. "Its a big country. I'm sure they'll be fine."

"Its not like them to not check in with command. Inform the Minister of Defense we may have a situation." He cautioned.
"The Tekkit Guy" is my username, "The Holy Tekkit Empire" is my country.

Read my Nation's IIWiki Page! http://iiwiki.com/wiki/The_Holy_Tekkit_Empire

User avatar
Zaereas
Diplomat
 
Posts: 690
Founded: May 10, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Zaereas » Thu Aug 20, 2015 6:19 am

Code: Select all
SKYKING SKYKING DO NOT RESPOND
SKYKING SKYKING DO NOT RESPOND
SKYKING SKYKING DO NOT RESPOND
SKYKING SKYKING DO NOT RESPOND
FOXTROT ALPHA LIMA
TIME 23
AUTHENTICATION BRAVO ZULU
HETZEL OUT


KRINA OP-COM | KRINA | 23:15

Ulrich always hated the voice in the radios. The harsh tones, with the harsher meanings behind each code and callsign. It was unnerving dealing with it, hearing the monotone chatter late at night that only sounded vaguely human. Still, nothing terrified him as much as those number stations from back in his spying days. He would sometimes wake up in a cold sweat, remembering that children's music box playing over, and over until the computerised voice of a young girl took it's place with some garbled code numbers and instructions. He knew it still plays to this day, that devilish rhapsody, but he dared not listen to it again, for the memories haunted him enough already.

This transmission though, this was different. Skyking, repeated four times with an attached message for Krina Command. These were nuclear alert orders. The last time an order of this magnitude was called was, well, Ulrich couldn't even remember that long ago. Everything before the revolution grew increasingly hazy as the years took their toll on his memory.

With a creek of a chair and the knock of headphones hitting the desk, Ulrich hastily scurried off to notify the Commander of the transmission.

"...and what if it is an ultranationalist uprising? May I remind you of our own stance on foreign nationalists? We need to gather more intelligence on this whole mess, before we make any mistakes."
Just another argument with the War Council. The Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces, Karl Adenauer, sat at the head of the table. Karl was a stern, strong man with a posture that showed as much. His rough face had the stubborn look of a veteran, and the snake-like eyes of a politician. He hated these meetings. To think he participated in a revolution to force bickering old men out of power so he could bicker with different old men was a thought he didn't like to dwell on much. Much to Karl's relief, the head radio operator of command happened to be standing in the hall.
"Sir, we have just received an EAM from Nuclear Command. Four Skykings."
The Supreme Commander went pale, along with the rest of the table.
"Four? Are you certain?"
"The message requests an alert state of 2, with all active silos be placed on go/no-go standby orders."
The Commander stood up, brushed down his medal laden uniform, and spoke in a stern, assertive tone. "Ackerman, get all active forces on Level 2 Alert. Nuclear Silos are to be primed and placed on standby. And you, Heinz, get the Kaiser on the phone."
Last edited by Zaereas on Thu Aug 20, 2015 4:51 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Proud Member of the Australian Army!
Ex-Abrams crewman in the RAAC, currently training to be an Armoured Corps Officer up at Puckapunyal. I'm a tank and armour enthusiast, and currently spending my free time on getting a BMP-1 road legal. Feel free to send a telegram with questions about anything!

I'm a right-wing authoritarian, with a reactionary viewpoint and a bit of Third Positionism somewhere in the mix too.

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