NATION

PASSWORD

WS: Series One [New Ausozera Only, Archive]

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]

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Tangaliro
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1824
Founded: Jun 07, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Tangaliro » Tue May 15, 2018 5:54 am

I am Kang, a marksman, thats all you need to know.

~SPZ. Kang Liuming, a marksman of Freak's squad, now Qinglong Special Operation Brigade, Southern Military Region, TNA


Image Reality


J. Cuomo Intl. Airport
Torch City, Torch State
ImageFederal States of Euphemie



5/12/2018
8:00am EST


Freak sat by the terminal gate, aimlessly staring at the distant Morhatten skyline. Since the operation on the day of their arrival, the Qinglong Brigade has been engaged in combat around the city, but so far, his team has not received any order yet. "Perhaps it's intended by Major Bai as a day off for the team?" Freak thought, after all, they spearheaded a missions on the first day right after their arrival, it is logical to think Bai quietly offered them a day off as a reward, judging by his personality.

What Kurtz did in the basement of the Savinkov Club continued to disturb Freak, he has seen friendly fires for countless times, but a professional soldier intentionally shooting one of his comrades, even though distant, is another story. He cannot help but wonder if there is something under the table that he doesn't know about the VDR. However, there is nothing he can do about it, he is merely a sergeant of the Tangaliroan National Army, after all.

The airport seems like a fairly nice place, the coalition forces kept it in shape pretty well. It seems like they will have a relatively pleasant time staying in the airport, he thought. As for their time outside, no one will know till the end of the war.

Suddenly, his radio crackled to life. "All personnels of the Qinglong Special Operation Brigade, please assemble at the conference room within 10 minutes, over." The voice on the other side of the radio announced. Usually, when that happens, it means a mission.

"Well, well." Freak stood up. "Time to go."

Like many other Tangaliroan personnels, upon hearing the message, Freak dashed toward the conference room.




Freak made it to the conference room in time, and took his seat next to his team.

"Ey, lads." He briefly greeted. The rest of the team nodded in response.

"Take your seats, comrades, the briefing is beginning now." Major Bai walked to the front of the room, cleared his throat, and began his briefing. "Since the beginning of the siege, the coalition force has made huge gains against the defending forces of the city, but there are still a lot to do before we can call this a victory." Bai pointed at the map, his finger landing on Lower Morhatten. "Our mission is to enter the front line from the Grey River Bridge, then we will split in half. The first, second and third battalions will be responsible for pushing southward to the other Savinkov Club in town, while the rest will be pushing northward toward the International Academy. That is all, any question?"

The Tangaliroan soldiers looked to each other and entered into quick discussions, then shook their heads, the briefing already covered all they need to know.

"If this is the case, then this is all for the briefing. Gear yourselves up, we will assemble at the entrance to the airport." Bai concluded.

"Lets go." Freak gestured the team to follow, then stood up, leaving the room.



Grey Water Bridge
Torch City, Torch State
ImageFederal States of Euphemie



5/12/2018
10:00am EST


The team is inside their ride, throughout the past few days, Tangaliro has been airlifting tactical assets into the city, infantry equipments, helicopters and some lighter armored transports. Thanks to the effort of the Tangaliroan airforce, they don't need to cross the bridge on foot. A fair share of the brigade has already crossed the bridge, and it is now their turn to enter Low Morhatten. They belong to the first group, which means that they will be responsible for securing the Savinkov Club. Freak personally is not very pleased about venturing into a Savinkov Club so soon, but a mission is a mission.

"This is the farthest we can lift you to." The pilot said, landing the TX-44 on the Morhatten side of the bridge. "Alright, team, on me." Freak said, hopping off the chopper. "Can't believe we are going to that tasteless place again." Wei whined. "Don't complain." Osas said, and Wei stopped her complaint.

The team proceeded to the front line. The Tangaliroan forces before them have already started pushing before their arrival, judging by the gunfire in the distant, the battle is pretty fierce. The platoon leader, Letnant Xu Zhong, gestured the platoon to start moving. The streets look relatively clean compared to those in Blume, but it might just be a matter of time before they deform into mere ruins of their former glory, the thought of that makes Freak slightly sad, but he quickly shrugged it off, it is not the time to think about these matters.

"Contact!" Busch yelled, before several bullets flew past Freak, hitting the ground behind him. "Get in cover!" Freak yelled, as the team scrambled to their nearest cover possible. "Busch, their position?" Freak turned to Busch, who is hiding behind a destroyed Euphemian APC not too far from him. "Behind that red sedan over there!" Busch responded, peeking out from his cover and returning fire. "Got it." Freak reached for one of his side pouches and took out a rifle grenade, loading it into his rifle's attached grenade launcher. He peeked out from his cover, seeing a red sedan sitting in the middle of the road, it seems the car has been intentionally moved and turned to act as a road block. "Have a nice day, motherfuckers." He rose from his cover, then fired the launcher directly at the window of the sedan. The grenade traveled through the window, hitting the door on the other side, then exploded, blowing up the car along with whoever hiding behind it.

The explosion sure attracted nearby Euphemian forces, soon, they can be seen pouring into this part of the street from nearby alleys. "Mow them down!" Freak ordered. Wei quickly reacted, and unleashed hell on those who rushed into the street without thinking. Meanwhile, Kang and his fellow marksmen of the platoon, under the help of the members of the other squads, has occupied several nearby buildings, picking off the incoming Euphemians one by one. "Sniper in building! 3-story building ,12 o'clock, third floor!" Busch alerted, but the sniper threat didn't last long. In seconds, a trace of bullet flew into that window, then the sniper fire stopped. It seems that the sniper teams on Tangaliroan side have already gotten into their positions.

The firefight did not last long, the platoon soon cleared the segment of street of hostiles. "Team B, check that block for the sniper. Team C, keep alert of anyone entering the perimeter. Team A, on me." Team B is the team of Freak, he gestured the squad's marksmen and gunners to get into position, then carefully led the riflemen toward the building.

In front of the building's entrance, Freak gestured the team to halt, then stood back and shot at the handle of the door, destroying the lock, then picked up a small piece of rubble and threw it at the door, knocking it open. "The place seems clear, but stay alert, they can be setting traps somewhere else." Chen Wu stepped into the building and carefully examined the surrounding. Freak nodded, leading half of the team up the stairway, while Chen's team checked for the other rooms.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"This room is clear as well!"

Soon, the team checked for every room of the building. Finding nothing but a blood trail, it seems the sniper has been heavily wounded, but managed to escape. The room where the sniper was in is in a mess, indicating that the former occupant left in panic.

"The building is clear, we didn't find the sniper, but it seems he is heavily wounded, he probably won't make it." Freak called through the radio. "Got it, leave that building, we are moving on." Xu Zhong replied.

The platoon continued to advance through the streets, constantly stopping to engage Euphemian units. They have met quite a lot of Euphemian resistance on their way, but not a lot of them are escorted by vehicles, as they are mainly crossing through smaller alleyways or streets filled with destroyed vehicles, where vehicles have a hard time entering. Whatever armored combat vehicles the guard divisions have, they will be left for the better equipped to deal with, light tanks, IFVs, ATGM teams, attack helicopters, you name it.

"We're close, keep up the work." Xu said, but no one bothered to respond, the whole platoon is busy keeping a watch on their surroundings, as the Euphemians can be popping up from anywhere at any second.

"Enemy chopper inbound!" Jin alerted, pointing at an Euphemian attack helicopter, it is flying toward them, preparing to attack. "Shit, get into cover!" Freak exclaimed. As the team spread out, rushing into nearby buildings, the chopper started firing its autocannon at the platoon. Several soldiers of the other team are unfortunate enough to be too slow to hide, and soon got cut into pieces by the line of fire. "Shit! Are you guys alright?" Freak looked back at his team, the team nodded in confirmation. "We need to take out that thing before it takes us out." Chen turned to the rest of the team, asking for ideas.

"Our best bet would be a rocket-propelled grenade." Kang suddenly started talking, the rest of the team turned to him. "Judging by that thing's look, anything lower than a FZ-06[1] would not even scratch it. FZ-08[2] would work as well, but it is too slow." Kang turned to Freak. "Your call, sierzant."

"Hold this for me." Freak handed his rifle Chen. "I want all of you to stay here, or whatever safer place you find, this is an order." He said, while putting down his FZ-08 from his back, setting it up. Since the introduction of FZ-84[3], the central command has begun equipping every member of a squad with a light single-use launcher in order to increase their odds against armored targets, the idea proved to be practical, at least for the current occasion, the squad is glad to have them by their sides. "Wait, you are doing it yourself!? Sierzant, thats too risky!" Wei exclaimed, apparently concerned about the safety of her superior. "Spezialist Wei, are you concerned about my safety?" Freak looked at Wei.

"Of course I am! You are the squad leader, what are we gonna do without you?"

"Don't we have Chen here? He's a far more competent person than me, I'm sure he can handle it in case I'm gone for good."

"B-but...!"

"Don't worry about it, spezialist, I'm just joking. Do I look like I'm gonna die here?" Freak laughed, then dashed for the stairway to the roof.

The chopper has lowered its attitude, searching for target. Freak carefully peeked out from the door to the roof, the chopper is facing another direction, attracted by another team's whereabouts. This is the perfect chance, Freak thought, carefully sneaking out onto the roof, aiming the launcher at the chopper.

*Swoosh*

Following the launch of the rocket, Freak quickly tossed away the tube and reached for the stairs. The chopper has noticed the rocket flying toward it, but it was too late, the rocket landed exactly on its weapon rack on the left, causing a chain explosion, downing the thing for good.

The huge sound of the explosion and the thud that followed tells Freak of his success. "How was that?" He asked his team. "Swift and clean, sierzant." Osas complimented.

Freak's radio crackles to life again. "Good work, sierzant Wei, we saw the downing of the chopper, who was that?" Xu Zhong asked. "No one but me, sir." Freak smiled, grabbing his rifle.

The platoon proceeds down the street, they can already see the Savinkov Club in the distance, it is as tastelessly decorated as the other one they infiltrated days ago, but that doesn't stop the team from being pleased at the sight of the club, knowing that their mission is coming to an end soon. The fighting at other streets are seeming to be coming to a conclusion as well, with the sound of gunfire slowly dying down. It either means that the resistance of Euphemian forces around this part of Lower Morhatten are breaking, or the other teams are failing.

The platoon slowly approached the club. Soon, other platoons of the battalion showed up from other alleyways as well, indicating that the offensive has been successful. However, Freak can clearly see that all teams have sustained losses, judging by their numbers. As they went closer and closer, the familiar LED sign of the Savinkov Club entered their vision. "You have been to that one in Blume last mission, is this the right one?" Xu Zhong asked. "Absolutely." Freak nodded.

The Tangaliroans stormed into the Savinkov Club, this time, the club is rather empty. The clubgoers probably learnt about what happened in the other club, or are scared away by the sound of the ongoing fighting nearby. It didn't take long to finish the fight, the Euphemian guards, heavily outgunned, almost immediately surrendered to their CS attackers.

"Well, I guess this is it." Freak looked at the surrounding as the Euphemian soldiers get escorted out. Lighting a cigarette up, he leaned to a nearby wall and started smoking. The Brigade is only responsible for storming into the place, the long term defense of the place will be handed to the rest of the coalition force, they are neither geared for, nor are capable of holding those grounds in the long run, so it is safe to say that with the capture of the club, their job here is finished.

Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot appeared from outside the club. Freak, startled, immediately took up his rifle and rushed outside, only to hear another gunshot. When he arrives at the source of the sound along with other the other soldiers, all he sees is a devastated Leonid, aiming his rifle at the body of a presumed Euphemian sniper while trying to hold back his tears. Next to him is Kang, lying in a pool of blood, unresponsive.

"Quick, get a fucking medic here!" Freak exclaimed at the crowd of soldiers behind him, a few men bearing medic patches quickly hurried to Kang. Freak stopped for a moment, adjusting himself, then approached Leonid.

"What the fuck happened here?"



Outside the Savinkov Club, Lower Morhatten
Torch City, Torch State
ImageFederal States of Euphemie



5/12/2018
6:30pm EST, before the gunshots


"Well, it seems the fighting is over for the day, sir!" Leonid told Kang. Like many others, Leonid is genuinely happy that he survived yet another battle, after all, no one wants to die. Kang quietly nodded with a smile, then took out a photo from his pouch, admiring it. "Who are the people in the photo." Leonid asked, pointing at a child and a woman in the photo, next to them is a young man, while it is not very obvious, one can still recognize that he is Kang at a younger age. "They are my family, Leonid." Kang said.

Kang first pointed at the child.

"This is my son. If I'm not wrong, he should be around your age now, he is a good boy, excelling in school. After this war, I am going to retire and return to them."

"Your son must have been pretty clever, unlike me. If I were more hardworking and clever back then, maybe I wouldn't have..." Leonid stopped, thinking about his sister again.

"Don't listen to your sis about it, boy, you are better than you think."

"Thank you, sir."

Suddenly, they hear a sound from not too far away, it is not very clear, but it sounded like a little girl's crying. The two looked at each other, then walked toward the source of the sound. When they found the source, a pitiful sight entered their eyes. In front of them is a little girl crying, leaning against a woman in a small pool of blood. It seems that during the fight in the area, a stray bullet or an unintentional shot hit the lady, killing the presumed mother of the child. Kang looked to his surroundings, then slowly approached the girl, as a father himself, he cannot stand leaving an innocent child alone in the middle of a war zone.

Suddenly, a trace of bullet flied past, and Kang fell to the ground. The gunshot is barely audible, so the firearm responsible for the gun must be silenced. Looking to the source of the gunshot, Leonid found a shadowy figure standing behind the window of a nearby building, he immediately returned fire, the figure dodged the first shot, and attempted to pick out Leonid as well while he still can, his greed cost him his life, as the second shot of Leonid landed on his forehead. He dropped out of the window, making a thud as the body hits the ground. The child, shocked by the sight, stopped crying, and instead just stared at her surroundings fearfully.

"What the fuck happened here?" A hand tapped Leonid in the shoulder, dragging him back to reality.

"Si-sir! Kang is-"

"I know." Freak nodded.

Leonid turned to Kang, seeing him surrounded by combat medics. He then turned to the child, she has resumed crying, not knowing what to do. He approached the child, but suddenly, loud sounds of crackling appeared from above, a huge piece of rubble broke loose from the wall of a nearby destroyed building, falling right onto the child. "No!" Leonid hurried to the child, but he was too late, the rubble dropped, crushing the child with her mother right below.

"No...no...no!" Over the months, Leonid learnt to adapt to the brutality on the battlefield, but the loss of a close comrade and the devastating sight combined was too much to him. He fell to his knees, and started crying. Freak quietly looked at Leonid and the pile of rubble, he wanted to say something, but he can't. Trying to soothe Leonid, he placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Lets end this war swiftly, so no more of this will happen again."



[1] - Image FZ-06 (06式单兵反战车武器) - Standard issue single-use infantry anti-tank weapon of Tangaliro, an RPG developed by the Beiyang Arsenal (北洋兵工厂) under the SINATINco. (Sinican National Industrial Corporation | 华夏国民工业集团) based on the experience from developing FZ-84.

[2] - Image FZ-08 (06式反战车导弹) - Standard issue ATGM of Tangaliro, an RPG developed by the Beiyang Arsenal (北洋兵工厂) under the SINATINco. (Sinican National Industrial Corporation | 华夏国民工业集团), the current version used by Tangaliroan infantry is a heavily lightened variant of the original missile.

[3] - Image FZ-84 (84式单兵反战车武器) - Standard issue single-use infantry anti-tank weapon of Tangaliro, an RPG developed by the Beiyang Arsenal (北洋兵工厂) under the SINATINco. (Sinican National Industrial Corporation | 华夏国民工业集团). Current service variant is FZ-84B, mainly supplied to lighter units for its lighter weight.
Last edited by Tangaliro on Tue May 15, 2018 7:55 pm, edited 5 times in total.
“In the practical art of war, the best thing of all is to take the enemy's country whole and intact; to shatter and destroy it is not so good. So, too, it is better to recapture an army entire than to destroy it, to capture a regiment, a detachment or a company entire than to destroy them. Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting.”
-Sun Tzu

A several year old NS user, though always Tangaliro.
You may know me or you may not.
Whatever. :3

User avatar
Valefontaine
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 408
Founded: Dec 18, 2017
Ex-Nation

Postby Valefontaine » Sun May 20, 2018 2:47 pm

Image
Ars Morti
Written as a collaborative effort between several people.

William Augustus Convention Center
Torch City, Torch State
Image Federal States of Euphemie
6/19/2018 - 4:00 PM EST

Image


Euphemie and its main contender, Turmenista, had seen one another crippled within the span of a mere month. Valefontene military feats in the Midwest had seen to pocketing and crippling the frontline forces still loyal to George Fern and the Conservative Unity Party. Now, paired with the fact Turmenista's eastern pocket had been destroyed, it was becoming quite clear the war was becoming a burden for both the Continental System and Euphemie.

In the burning ruins of Torch City, a convention was held that would finally decide the fate of the conflict — this, of course, didn't mean peace within Euphemie. The country was crippled, plunged into the chaos of civil war yet again, its cities becoming ethnic battlegrounds.

Torch City had been one of the few cities to not fall to the newly-established DRE, as it was still under marginal control of the governor of Torch State, a member of the Democratic Party that had overthrown George Fern only days prior. The national guard divisions, albeit battered from months of fighting, would suffice for general security.

This convention demanded the utmost security, and thus Valefontene special forces and Augustan Republican Guard forces alike had been called to the Convention center to provide security against the far-right and far-left militias that now operated out of the city.

Outside William Augustus Convention Center, the former parking lot had been made into a makeshift landing pad of sorts, helicopters of various nations touching down to unload their diplomatic cadres.

Stepping forth from one such helicopter was Martzin Ślusarczyk, the VDR's Minister of State. While typically an affair in an unsavory continent like Ophir mandated the attention of his orderlies moreso than himself, now was a special occasion. Security was tight at the building, that was for certain. His security comprised of nine airborne soldiers of LAtR-13: he'd heard much of their achievements, and could thus feel a little safer with them escorting him towards the building.


Tangaliro


Following Martzin is the Tangaliroan Grand Marshal Shen Xuewen. The middle-aged man, in his full uniform, proudly marched into the convention center, with an escort of 12 fully armed soldiers of the Qinglong Special Operation Brigade on his both sides. Leaving his ride, a TX-44, behind.


The Enclave Government


Unlike the assembled Coalition states, the Augustan delegation was transported via vehicle to the Convention Center. A convoy of HMMVs painted Urban black shadowed a Firebrand[1] manufactured Augustan state vehicle, two Augustan flags flapping in the brisk June wind.

As the delegation arrived at the Convention Center, the President of the Republic himself exited his state vehicle and stepped onto the blue carpet provided. Saluting his Republican Guard detachment, President Eden strode down the carpet and into the Convention Center.


Valefontaine


Within the lobby of the convention center, past numerous security lines, members of the press, particularly ENBC and VFN, were busily photographing the monumental event. As these diplomats filed into the grand chamber — the establishment at the convention center had been intended for a TDE-x talk before the War, but it would suffice as a room for diplomacy.

As it appeared, the Euphemian State's delegation had not yet arrived.
Ślusarczyk was quick to seat himself, ordering his security guards to disperse to aid in protecting the exits.
Tangaliro


Shen found himself a seat, then gestured his security elements to get into positions in aid of the venue's security.
Valefontaine


"Kurtz helped arrange all this?" Niko whispered over to Bianka. The two were, of course, now assigned to 2. Sektion, and thus tasked with the protection of the diplomatic cadre — now beside one of the entrances, they were idly anticipating the arrival of the Euphemians...

"Kurtz knows a lot of people — on both sides of the war." Bianka replied. The enigmatic leader of VDR forces present in Torch City was certainly quite the mysterious figure.

"Focus on the task at hand, you two." Konrad, the squad leader, instructed before wandering off to assess other members of his team near the emergency exit.
Tangaliro


"Ey, lads, here we meet again." A famaliar figure showed up not too far away.
Valefontaine


"Hopefully this'll be the end of the war." Bianka greeted the Tangaliroan — someone she knew well. "I can't wait to go home to Mieszko..."
Tangaliro


"About time for this to end." Freak nodded. "We've seen enough shit here."
Turmenista


The Turmenistanian delegation arrived shortly thereafter, though, as it would later turn out, President Kuma would not be present for the meeting. Instead, the motorcade carried Rupert Enfield, the Prime Minister of Turmenista. His position made him the head of the Turmenistanian Parliament, and the official head of Foreign Affairs for the country. Three Turmenistanian aircraft were present in total, one of which was a modified YF-66 Voortrekker in a reconnaissance and observation configuration, tasked with monitoring the city and conference out of fear of a terrorist attack or plot on the Prime Minister's life. The other two government helicopters landed at the parking lot-turn landing pad, allowing the Turmenistanian diplomatic team — and their respective guards, a contingent of SOCOM Commandos — to disembark and enter the building.

Rather than carry his big OICW as usual, Xori was instead limited to a sidearm which fit uncomfortably smaller in his rather large hands. Still, it could easily reach out and touch someone provided they had a good enough arm.

"Lusaka's been informed on what to do if we are to bug out," Major Townsend, the acting commander to the Turmenistanian escort detachment, whispered to Xori. "This should go swimmingly nonetheless. I don't trust the Euphies entirely."

Xori nodded, despite looking towards a certainly familiar Valefontene soldier standing adjacent to him across the room, conversing with a Tangaliroan soldier.
Valefontaine


Before Bianka could say another word to the Tangaliroan, however, another delegation arrived behind the Turmenistanians. Who they were was unmistakable: Vice President George Sharpe, escorted by masked Euphemian troops — the MAUL unit, who had almost entirely defected to the pro-Fern Euphemian State following the Democrats' coup.

Image


Without a word, he seated himself beside his Augustan counterpart.
The Enclave Government


During the commotion, the restroom door in the antechamber opened and two disheveled members of the Republican Security Service stumbled out. Adjusting ties and hair, the two made themselves presentable.
As the two walked into the main chamber, the woman elbowed the man in the chest and whispered to him. “Your fly’s still down, Edward.”
Edward slapped her on the back of the head and zipped up his fly. “You can fuck right off, Sierra.” He said as the two entered earshot. The duo put on an aura of professionalism and assumed their guard positions directly behind the President.
Flipping down his shades, Edward saw Sierra mouthing something out of the corner of his eye. Round two later?
He replied only with a wink, and finished lowering his shades.
Valefontaine


"That everyone?" Bianka quietly asked, eyes darting over to Niko.

"I wonder if... they're attending the conference." He replied, thinking aloud. His thoughts were soon answered, however, as the doors to the chamber opened yet again.

Escorted by Euphemian troops, clearly less disciplined than their pro-Fern counterparts, Vice President of the FSE Janice Watters entered the room. She had been chairwoman of the Democratic Party before the coup, and had subsequently been elevated to Vice President in the days following the overthrow of George Fern. There was a visible tension as she sat opposite to VP Sharpe, beside the Valefontene Minister of State.

Image


Tangaliro


The next to enter the room is another Tangaliroan security element consisting of two ISB agents, one of them being Zhaoski, and the other being one of her henchmen in Torch City. They quietly walked into the room, then stood guard behind the Marshal himself. The marshal turned back and nodded to them as a greeting, then returned to his preparation for the conference, unattracted by Zhaoski.
Valefontaine


"Very well, then." Ślusarczyk looked about the room, counting the attendees. "I take it we all understand why we are here — to formalize a ceasefire, and, if possible, peace in our time... between the Continental System and the Federal States of Euphemie. It is for this reason that both parties declaring themselves to be the Euphemian government are present."
Valefontaine


"If I would begin..." Sharpe spoke. "The war in Imalakia related entirely to the Ma'athists, who are responsible for conspiring with the Weather Overground to overthrow the Euphemian government and establish a revolutionary state... judging by the fact we are all here today, they have succeeded. The EFSR, the so-called Democratic Republic of Euphemie...all of these self-proclaimed nationstates were formed from the terrorist group that is the Weather Overground."

"And in what manner did that justify Fern's racist, bigoted policy towards its own citizens? Segregation, the arrest of political prisoners, mass surveil—" Watters was interrupted by the Valefontene Minister of State, who gestured her to quiet down and allow him to speak.
The Enclave Government


President Eden glared somewhat at Vice President Watters, but said nothing.
Valefontaine


Sharpe gave a smirk — one either of arrogant denial or acknowledgment. "The Democratic Party was undoubtedly collaborating with these revolutionary groups. Why else did they attempt to sidestep our great nation's democratic process by abstaining from the next year's elections? Your party is just as guilty as the Weather Overground."

"The subject at hand, please." Ślusarczyk demanded.

"Of course. The Continental System, by great majority," Sharpe smugly glanced over to the Turmenistanian PM. "...has no qualm with Euphemie. I believe we can thus negotiate a peace that can satisfy both sides of this debacle."
"Valefontaine demands nothing more than Euphemie, regardless of its leadership, respect the Continental System's sovereignty. Until your domestic crisis concludes, I can in turn assure that Valefontaine will take no sides." Ślusarczyk spoke.
The Enclave Government


Eden waved his hand. “The Republic wishes to conclude its involvement in this matter. I find maintaining the occupation of a sizable amount of Eupheme... distasteful, in addition to difficult. This security is of great expense.”
Tangaliro


"Tangaliro would like to demand the safe release of all Turmenistanian prisoners of war, and a full withdrawal of Euphemian military elements within Turmenistan and Imalakia, nothing more, nothing less." Shen calmly took a sip of tea.
Valefontaine


The mention of Turmenista made the Euphemian vice president wryly chuckle to himself.
The Enclave Government


“I do believe it is worth taking into consideration Euphemian and Turmenistan border disputes that predate this conflict... there is no real de jure[\i] border to restore. But in principle I assent to this notion.”
Turmenista


"Turmenista seconds that motion, to add off of what Mr. Shen said. The release of the Turmenistanian prisoners of war is crucial, and, in turn, will facilitate the release of the Euphemian prisoners of wa—" Enfield stopped. "Is there a [i]problem
, Mr. Vice President?"
Tangaliro


"Tangaliro fully understands that border conflict is not one thing to be resolved in an instant, so we will demand nothing over it. Withdraw your forces back to the pre-war border, and we are fine." Shen added, looking at Sharpe in disdain.
Valefontaine


"Nothing at all." Sharpe replied. "I would like to remind those present that these conflicting border claims arise from the defunct South Ophiric Federation, of which Euphemie departed from in a civil manner. Considering our legal government does not have control over that region, the current state of the Euphemian-Turmenistanian border is of little concern to me."
"Does... your government make any demands?" Ślusarczyk questioned.
"We merely ask the CS keep its present intervention in Imalakia restricted to targeting the real terrorists." He smiled.
Tangaliro


"Define real terrorists." Shen said, taking another sip.
Valefontaine


"The Ma'athists." Sharpe replied.

"The Federal States of Euphemie would be willing to recognize Turmenista's claims in the contested border region." Watters interjected.

"That will be decided when there is one legitimate government presiding over Euphemie." Sharpe quipped.
"So then, does neither side issue an objection to this declaration of peace between Euphemie and the Continental System?" Ślusarczyk looked to those present.
Turmenista


"No objections," Enfield stated plainly. "Aside from the guarantee that the Turmenistanian POWs are exchanged in return for the Euphemian POWs."
The Enclave Government


“I have only... one issue.” Eden stood up and gestured to both Sharpe and Watters. “Soldiers of the Republican Guard occupy substantial tracts of territory in Eupheme. To which of these governments shall administration be ceded to? I don’t believe merely leaving a power vacuum would be... conducive to a peaceable solution.”
Valefontaine


"W—" Watters was quickly interrupted.

"It can operate on a principle of adjacency. Occupied land goes to whomever is nearest." Sharpe answered.
Tangaliro


"You sure?" Shen smirked.
Valefontaine


"What is your alternative? That ethnic militias occupy as they please, and murder innocent civilians? Or perhaps the tribals, flooding in from the Heart of Darkness are a viable alternative..."
The Enclave Government


Eden sat down and let the debate progress.
Tangaliro


"You see, by adjacency, EFSR is as close as you are. If you don't specify, there can be loopholes. Just a kind reminder, don't worry about it."
Valefontaine


"Do you see EFSR or DRE diplomats present in this chamber? No, you do not — because they do not negotiate with those they perceive to be neoliberals or fascists. This negotiation regards the two declared governments of Euphemie."
Tangaliro


"Very well, very well. However, I have one last question."
Valefontaine


"Get on with it." Ślusarczyk spoke.
Tangaliro


"From what you said, we all can agree that the war in Imalakia relates entirely to the Ma'athists, and that, by your own words, they are responsible for conspiring with the Weather Overground to overthrow your government, I take it that you are aware that arming the Ma'athists do no good to your country. Then, Mr. Sharpe..." Shen took one last sip from his tea.

"Can you explain the appearance of Euphemian weaponries in the fields of Imalakia shortly before the war between us broke out?"
The Enclave Government


Eden waved his hand. “Please, delegate. It is common practice for all of the nations at this table to sell weaponry on the world market. These things happen.”
Tangaliro


"It's a different story when they are possibly in the hands of our enemy. Mr. Sharpe, I demand nothing more from your country, but the provision of a full detailed list of exported Euphemian weapon systems to Imalakia, my friend, would be beneficial to us both."
Valefontaine


"Surely your agents can sift through burnt records in the smoldering ruins of Lee..." Sharpe joked, before becoming more serious. "There were never exports to Imalakia. Not its incompetent Ygarthene puppet state of a government, nor the many rebels presiding within. Neither myself nor the President of the Federal States of Euphemie, George Fern — currently in illegal custody by the Democratic Party's cohorts, cleared any such decisions. The fact that you make such accusations in a room of peace is contrary to what we are here to achieve."
Tangaliro


"Whether you are saying the truth or not, we hope that it's true. I don't know if you are aware about it or not, but before the Euphemian entrance to the war, we have spotted Euphemian equipments in Imalakia. Thats all I want to say about it, Tangaliro has no objection to the terms of peace." Shen concluded his confrontation, then sat back.
Valefontaine


After some mutterances, a prepared document was set down on Watters' desk. With a signature, she passed it on to her Valefontene counterpart. This process continued, as the document, affirming a 'white peace', went about the room.
Turmenista


Coincidentally, right after reading over and signing the document, PM Enfield paused as two vibrations went off on his left pocket: his phone. The color quickly drained from his face as he reached to his thigh to check the device, clandestinely looking down at his lap to observe the message on his phone:
KUMA: Situation is bad. Explosions going off in city, Duirel mobilized in full force. Preparing to leave now

ENFIELD: What?

KUMA: Get here NOW. Situation is now VERY

ENFIELD: What???

He set down his phone slowly, but surely. Kuma was not known to be a heavy drinker, or a drinker at all. A text like this would mean that the man was seriously in danger, and, judging by his hasty typing, he probably was.

Especially after reading those texts.

The PM suddenly whipped his head around to his guards and nodded, a look of deep worry appearing on Xori's face as the PM stood up and stormed out of the row. "Ladies and gentlemen, although I would like to be here longer to discuss more matters regarding this treaty, I am afraid that we must leave. Now."

His last seemed to add a sense of urgency to his words as he was promptly escorted out of the room by the Commandos.. What could they have meant by this, and, moreover, what the hell was happening with Turmenista?
Valefontaine


Once the last pen was set down, a Valefontene officer burst into the room. "We've got a problem at the Ophiric Trade Center. National Guard's been overwhelmed. All units present, get to the towers."
It seemed this peace came with some obstacles of its own...

Image
Ars Morti - P2
Ophiric Trade Center
Torch City, Torch State
Image Federal States of Euphemie
6/19/2018 - 6:30 PM EST

Emergency services vehicles lay abandoned about just outside the OTC, visible smoke billowing through shattered windows.

Fragments of glass dotted the highway as they approached the colossal sight of the Ophiric Trade Centers towering above them.

"Incendiary bomb went off in the malls just beneath the OTC. Unknown assailants have used the chaos to kill their way up the North Tower. We're coming from behind." Kurtz explained, leading just ahead of the troops.
"Smoke's pretty fuckin' bad." Konrad glanced upward, noticing how many floors of the tower were billowing smoke.

"Most of the airflow is causing the smoke from the mall below to channel through the South Tower. We're about to head through the lobby of the South Tower... certainly you can handle it." Kurtz soon met with an Augustan officer — Bianka quickly recognized her to be the mysterious E.E. — in uniform. Aside from her own team of Guardsmen, she was the only soul around, standing just outside the smoke-engulfed tower's entrance.

"I take it you've briefed them on the situation." She looked to Kurtz, skeptical.

"Of course." Kurtz nonchalantly passed through the broken glass doors, leading them through the hazy, smoke-filled lobby of the South Tower.

Almost immediately, the bodies of Euphemian national guardsmen came into view, bullet casings littered about and around the bodies.
Tangaliro


"What a mess." Freak looked around, then examined one of the bodies.
Valefontaine


"They certainly came through here." Bianka kept her rifle at the ready, cautiously aiming about at corners as they moved forward.

"What would make you think that?" Kurtz asked sarcastically, looking to the gunshot-ridden corpses.

Soon enough, they were in the much more breathable transitional space between the two towers: a transit hub that'd served as a logistics center for the Euphemians during the span of the battle.

"How long do you think this peace'll last?" Niko asked, giving Bianka a nudge on the shoulder.

"Hopefully long enough for us to get a break." Bianka answered, still watchful for their unknown enemy.

Below an arch overlaid with billboards boasting Euphemian films from months prior, the entrance to the North Tower's lobby was even more of a bloodbath, although the sight was much more bearable due to the absence of the suffocating presence of smoke. The distant echo of gunfire, a few floors above them, could be heard.
Tangaliro


"Guess we better get ready." Freak looked above briefly, then examined his rifle, ensuring that everything is ready, the rest of his team did the same.
Valefontaine


The state of the building meant elevators were out of the question. As they ascended the steps of the stairwell, the sound of the gunfire becoming closer as they traveled up. By the time they'd reached the first sky lobby on the 61st floor, bodies scattered about, the gunfire had died down — one could only surmise why...
Tangaliro


”We better be careful about this.“ Freak looked to Bianka. "God knows if they have noticed us."

The rest of the team carefully looked at their surroundings, alerted of the sudden change.
Valefontaine


The bright orange light of the setting sun poured in through the windows, bathing everything on the floor an orange hue. Past desolate shops, the team moved forward, guns aimed about in preparation for whatever lay ahead.

"This one's still breathing." The squad leader of 2. Sektion, Konrad, knelt down to check the body, noting the man's diaphragm still methodically rose and fell.
Turmenista


Meanwhile...

In the midst of all the chaos, Lusaka-One had been repurposed to provide overwatch for teams investigating the happenings at the OTC, due to a limitation in the available air power the Euphemians could offer. Nonetheless, Lusaka was there to suffice, albeit reluctantly, knowing that they were otherwise helping people that had previously considered them enemies.

The Voortrekker circled both of the Twin Towers of the OTC, albeit keeping a considerable distance away from the North Tower which was currently billowing dark black smoke into the sky that would've otherwise blocked the helicopter's vision. The task was relatively simple: Whilst the boots on the ground were to investigate the underground mall of the OTC, Lusaka was to monitor the above ground activity, such as the evacuation of survivors from the towers and arrival of first responders to the site. The only problem was that there were no civilians coming out of the North Tower — evidently, unknown assailants had entered and used the place as a shooting range.

Just what a helicopter hovering outside needed: people they couldn't see.

"Lusaka to 2. Sektion. Switching to thermals now, we're going to attempt to get a better visual on the west side of the tower, over." The gunner, a certain Jadaka Codjoe, then flipped a switch to the front of his stick, allowing a mechanical arm to lower a sort of targeting scope over his helmet. "Thermals on. Keep it steady."
His pilot only gave a nod of acknowledgement as his own targeting scope activated, flushing the world into a deep gray and white, and finally removing the dark screen of smoke they were forced to deal with in the real world.

Going into thermals also revealed the huge amount of dead bodies—and, as Jadaka zoomed in more closely, the hostiles walking among them—on the 61st floor of the building.

The chaingun on the Voortrekker was linked to whatever Jadaka was looking at through the HUD — right now, his crosshairs were lined up right on the fucker by the window with the SAW.

"Lusaka to 2. Sektion. Be advised, we have a large group of heavily-armed OPFOR on the 61st floor of the building. No confirmation on hostages thus far. How copy?"
Valefontaine


Meanwhile...

"This is 2. Sektion, mention of OPFOR?" Konrad rose to his feet, radio in hand. "We've no present visua—"
May 19, 2018
Valefontaine


His words were cut short, however, by the sudden flurry of gunfire that cut him down, his body coming to rest beside the injured Euphemian soldier he'd paid attention to moments prior. Cohesiveness in the squad quickly fell apart in the confusion, until the group had found cover behind one of the shops.

In the chaos, Bianka had effectively become responsible for what remained of the unfortunate team. The other teams and Kurtz himself, however, seemed to be faring much better. The gunfire died down, and by the time Bianka's team left the cover of the shops, it was a bloodbath. Their surprise assailants weren't Euphemian troops, or of any apparent national affiliation... they were plainsclothes mercenaries.
Tangaliro


"Huh, interesting, didn't expect to see mercernaries here." Freak kicked one of the bodies around, checking for clues of their employer.
"There can be more of them, we better stay sharp." Busch said, looking around.
Valefontaine


Fire support from the Voortrekker had sufficed in clearing out enemy combatants near the windows, so it became readily apparent the floor was clear.

"There's one room we haven't checked." Kurtz announced, glancing over to a particular amenity on this sky-lobby: a door to a windowside restaurant.
Tangaliro


"Then lets go." Freak looked to the door, taking out a smoke grenade from his pouch. "Tell that Turmie chopper outside to keep a watch on the interior of that room." He waved to Jin.
Valefontaine


Opening the door, Kurtz led the multinational team into the restaurant. Like everything else in the towers, it was abandoned. The only form of illumination within came from the windows, the orange light of the sun shining through.

In this light, Bianka could see a figure, his face covered by an olive drab shemagh.
Tangaliro


Freak looked to Kurtz, waiting for further order. Meanwhile, the rest of the team kept their eyes on the man.
Valefontaine


Raising his hands, the man turned around, an antennae-like device in hand. It was connected to his body by a series of wires, which ran into the sleeves of his camouflaged uniform.

"Shoot me, and every single explosive device my men planted on this floor will detonate." He announced.

It was unmistakably the feared mercenary himself, the 'Bull' ... upon recognizing him, Kurtz immediately drew his sidearm, to which his Augustan cohort followed suit, weapons trained on the mercenary's head.
Tangaliro


Osas turned to Bianka. "Sierzant, is this The Bull?"
Valefontaine


"This is bad." Bianka backed away, her Kb-92 still trained on the man. "He's extremely dangerous."

"Uh, Sierzant..." Niko looked to the windows. The moon was coming beginning to block the sun, the room dimming in the wake of the penumbra that followed. He quickly looked away, knowing what came next. The moon eclipsed the sun, shrouding the room in darkness.

Image


By the time the team's eyes adapted to the penumbra, the mercenary held the Augustan officer at gunpoint.
Valefontaine


"You knew this eclipse was coming, didn't you?" Kurtz kept his aim focused on the man.

"Of course." The Bull turned around, chuckling. "I'm quite sure you'd know why."

"Fucking bastard..." The Augustan officer mustered, squirming at gunpoint.

"Keep your aim—!" Bianka continued to step away as she aimed at the man, her back nearing the exit.

"And what tells me you're not bluffing about the explosives?" Kurtz interjected.

"Take a good look around... this room, for starters." He replied.

The squad nervously kept their guns focused on the Bull... except Niko, who drew his flashlight and aimed it about in curiosity — proving the Bull right. Massive amounts of explosives were piled away at the corners, wires traveling about the span of the floor.

"Euphemian military was planning to go scorched-earth if CS forces succeeded in taking Morhatten. We merely rewired the explosives they still had sitting around." The Bull explained, gun still pressed against E.E.'s temple. "There's enough on this floor alone to destroy three city blocks."
"If you have the explosives as leverage, why the officer too?" Bianka called out, asking the mercenary. "Besides, who hired you this time? Certainly Fern's people no longer need your services."

"Ah, you again." The Bull replied. "She is important to the Letnant Kurtz here... is it not fascinating how our fates are intertwined?" He laughed to himself, before continuing. "Nobody has hired me. I am here to fulfill the Gospel... the Blood Money Gospel. Even as you pride yourselves over this peace negotiation with the Euphemian State, they already work towards war. A series of seismic devices along the Las Solas-Kincaid line are already set to go off in accordance with this eclipse... fulfilling what the Orrery's Globes had foretold. To Fern, this was no war — this was the fulfilling of prophecy. THIS — IS THE SECOND ECLIPSE!" He exclaimed.
Tangaliro


"Thats why I never get into any religion." Freak muttered to himself.
Valefontaine


"Surely they've been set off by now, then?" E.E. asked, gun still pressed to her head.
The Bull, however, didn't answer, instead waiting for it...
Valefontaine


A light tremor shook the building, a few soldiers nervously gazing around.
"Ah, yes... Eden's will has been achieved. If the seismic devices have been triggered, it is no doubt the Scornstone caldera has erupted. Countless cities will be engulfed in ash, and the militias and armies to the south will be logistically incapable of traversing into the Euphemian State's territories in the north."
Tangaliro


Freak looked toward Kurtz, then gazed at Bianka. This time, he is asking for both's approval to decide the fate of several souls in the room.
Valefontaine


While the Bull remained focused on his monologue, Bianka gestured the soldiers of 2. Sektion out of the room — presumably to begin evacuating.

Bianka remained, however, ready to face the responsibility of her next order going wrong. Looking to the Tangaliroan, her next instruction was simple:

"Disarm him."
Tangaliro


Freak nodded, then closed his eyes for seconds, trying to focus, then looked to his rifle, concentrating his mind on his target.
After steadying his aim, he fired. As the gunshot echoed across the room, the bullet traveled toward its target. Despite being secular, as each second passed, Freak prayed for his shot to hit, for the stake of the shot is too high to miss.

But it did.
The bullet drifted away from its intended target, landing on the window behind, shattering the glasses.
Valefontaine


"If any of you make it out alive, you'll curse yourselves for falling into this trap. The diversion was a success, and I'll have died knowing I fulfilled the prophecy. By now, the weakened Euphemian national guard will have little with which to combat the DRE-backed uprising that will overtake this forsaken city. I doubt the Torch City Accords' former attendees are entirely safe." He chuckled.

The gunshot had been enough to spur Kurtz forward to intervene. In turn, the Bull fired off his pistol, executing E.E., her body falling limp to the floor, a pool of blood slowly forming around her head.

In the rage that ensued, Kurtz duelled the infamous mercenary hand-to-hand, his sidearm laying discarded on the floor. Whatever was to happen, it certainly wouldn't end well.

"We need to get the fuck out of here!" Bianka had taken the initiative, ordering those around her to get out.
Leaving Kurtz behind to savagely combat the Bull, Bianka fled the scene with 3. Sektion — that is, herself and Niko, along with the now-deceased Augustan officer's team of four. It was a certainty that 2. Sektion had already evacuated the 61st floor by now.
Tangaliro


Freak, shocked by the consequence of his failure, stood still, but was quickly dragged away by Busch. Most of the team has already withdrawn from the building, but Busch, confident with his ability to escape all danger, stayed behind, having a bad feeling all along.

"Snap out of it, Freak! Now is not the time for you to stand idle!" Busch said, not even bothering to call Freak by his rank at this point.
Valefontaine


The maddened rush to the first floor proved fruitful in that Bianka once again ran into 2. Sektion.

"Orders, Sierzant." One of them said. They were clearly still distraught at the loss of Konrad.
"We all need to get as far away from here as we can." She replied.

Meanwhile...


"Well, what'll it be, Kurtz?" The Bull had held back in utilizing the infamous technique, knowing full well his opponent was capable of countering it.

"You and I both know none of us are coming out of the rubble."

"A shame they knew so little of our past... all of us, followers of Markus... and yet here we are, killing one another." The mercenary quipped, ducking as Kurtz attempted to lunge at him with a combat knife.

"The Blood Money Gospel was always a lie, a lie that cold killer of a man believed... you only make it real by killing in its name!" Kurtz stepped away, knife still at the ready, as the Bull attempted to give a few swings at him. "He taught you everything you knew... but not everything he knew." Kurtz suddenly hurried forward, scaling one of the dining tables and kicking the Bull in the chest, to which he stepped back, confused.

"Imagine what we could've achieved together, had you and the others not strayed from the path." The Bull rushed forth, drawing his combat knife in preparation to strike Kurtz down.

"The path was a load of horse-shit. Religion's only true because people make it true." Kurtz continued their metaphorical waltz across the restaurant as they fought.

"Or are we but pawns at the behest of some transcendental force, like the hand of God weaving its way through time..." The Bull lunged forth, the steel of his knife becoming soaked in Kurtz's blood as he scathed his opponent's arm. With a power angle kick, he brought Kurtz to the floor, preparing to finish him off. "Perhaps it is true that man is but a slave... lacking even free will."

Kurtz simply glanced upward, chuckling to himself as the Bull clutched his chest in renewed confusion.

"And so Fate has decided. Markus taught me many things... I improved upon these things." Kurtz chuckled.

"What—..." The mercenary stammered, gripping his chest in agony, falling to his knees beside Kurtz.

"Commotio cordis. Your heart's rhythm was disrupted by my kick — a move Markus himself taught me. Perhaps if I'm lucky, I'll be out of here by the time your heart flatlines, setting off the explosives on this floor... I'll be sure to take the elevator on the way out."

Valefontaine


Meanwhile...

Through the sounds of gunfire, Bianka could make out the thunderous BOOM of an explosion several blocks behind them — she didn't need to ask what it was.

Methodically, the flames of explosions erupted from the 61st floor of the South Tower, and in no time the entire structure was coming down, the structure giving in and falling apart. The resounding cacophony of steel groans and screeches echoed through the desolate Morhatten streets as the tower collapsed.

Silently, Bianka knew this had meant the end for Kurtz and any Euphemian unfortunate enough to have been in the upper floors.

"We gotta get back to the convention center, Sierzant." Niko was a bit concerned of the tracer fire rising from around that area...
Tangaliro


Freak has already recovered from the shock, he nodded to Niko's words, but didn't say anything.

Busch looked back at the falling tower. "Quite a sight, huh?" He said, frowning at the sight. Osas quietly adjusted his helmet, then moved on without a word.
Valefontaine


The convention center had clearly seen a fight. The bodies of ragtag militiamen were scattered about just outside, Augustan guardsmen still holding the line against a potential next wave.

"Orders just arrived!" An Augustan officer called out upon noticing the arrival of the surviving team. "With this... god-damn uprising going on in the city, all non-essential personnel are to evacuate Torch City. A flight is already prepared at J. Cuomo International Airport, bound for Louisa."[2]
CONTEXT NOTES
1 - Firebrand - Popular Augustan automobile line. Preferred among government officials.

2 - Louisa - Aside from being the capital of Turmenista, Louisa is currently swept up in a coup d'etat — something the unfortunate LAtR-13 forces bound for the city are yet unaware of.

Image
Last edited by Valefontaine on Sun May 20, 2018 2:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Too many old nations to count. NS user since 2013.
here we have some cheeky blokes

only difference between a negotiation and a battle are the rules of engagement
both are fundamentally based on maneuver
put that in your quote book
-The Enclave Government
-anonymous discord user

User avatar
Western Pacific Territories
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 14014
Founded: Apr 29, 2015
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Western Pacific Territories » Sun May 20, 2018 5:19 pm

Heart of Darkness
5/23/18, 8:32 PM


The occasional roar of thunder brought a change to the constant round of sprinkling rain coming down on Eric and his fellow expeditionaries. They had been hiking on foot for the past three days, now given the task of taking a certain delicate object and disposing of it in the one place where it would never be found, ever. Only Eric knew what that object was, however. He had kept that globe 'the Bull' gave him securely in his possession, and never allowed himself to loose sight of it. Quite thankfully, the sky was still bright enough that one could see ahead of him, despite the cloud cover and time of hour. Eric had gone over his plan with the members of his expedition already: They would find a local village, walk in holding up this object and find shelter. Perhaps then the inhabitants would be killed, and then they could think of a way to get rid of this globe for good.

Eric's fellows seemed extremely skeptical of his plan, thought him as someone trying to get rid of his less useful 'friends' and only agreed to not ditch him in the jungle if he let them keep their guns very, very close. Eric refused to let himself be upseted, there was just something about his encounter with 'the Bull', how he talked and how he acted. It made him feel as though the man was right, this globe really could make the fierce jungle warriors of the Heart of Darkness bow to his whim. As they descended down what seemed to be a fairly often used trail in the jungle, Eric spotted a thatch roof top make itself known among the canopy. He stopped, and announced his sighting. "Rooftop, rooftop! We're almost there," he said.

The path took him down to the village center, surrounded by his armed allies looking all ways. The startled villagers picked up their spears, but didn't use them. They were still fairly close to the border, in Eric's mind, perhaps they knew what a gun was, and how swiftly it could kill. Maybe even there were one or two old, rotting antiques of guns sitting in the chief's hut or something. Eric already knew what to do next. He knew that these peoples spoke a bastardized Creole of Augustan, and believed in the teachings of Martin Eden. He hoped they would be able to understand me. "LAY DOWN YOUR SPEARS!" Skepticism. That was a good thing, it meant they probably understood him. He pulled out the globe he had and raised to the air. Even Eric couldn't help but be astonished at the response. Some unintelligible deliberation, and people started dropping onto their knees, extending their arms in his direction. It was then that he began to realize the sheer amount of power this object possessed for many people.

Heart of Darkness
6/8/18, 6:07AM


On the edge of this region known as the Heart of Darkness, and peering into Canten, Eric and the few tribal chiefs who he now led under his banned looked towards it. "Mcebakgabu, Nkanyisolqhune, all you others. You see what is in front of you?" Eric had first encountered the tribe of Chief Nkanyisolqhune, and had convinced him and three other tribal chiefs that he was the next prophet of God. The globe he possessed was Eric's testament. These men all didn't know much about Eric except that, in his own words, he was from a far-off land and had come to wage war. "The lands of those who do no little other than encroach upon your lands, lay waste to them and your people. It is willed that the tribes of the jungle shall get their revenge... and with my arrival, it shall be done. Lay waste to the houses and people, do what you want, but know this: you are to destroy. You are to loot, and pillage. They have spent generations killing and enslaving, now you will kill and enslave! My own task is to go forth and gather more tribes, yours will continue without me. When the time is right, I will return. Rest assuredly I will return. The path ahead, is yours..."

And with that, Eric who had been sitting around a fire with the Chiefs now departed into the brush, Globe of Eden at hand. He could hear the tribal chiefs themselves leaving, probably to begin carrying out his will. As he began walking, he felt a bit odd...

User avatar
Turmenista
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5765
Founded: Apr 09, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Turmenista » Sun May 20, 2018 10:36 pm

Discord collab between Turmenista and Anowa. Horizontal line breaks indicate a change in perspective.



SPLIT ALLEGIANCES

_________
CIC Section 2 Safehouse
Canten
Image Federal States of Euphemie
5/12/2018 - 2:48 AM EST




The monitor being taped up was only a precaution — the Shadowdancer knew that the Feds had the capability to monitor his conversation, but that’s where the beauty of the BlackNet[1] came into play. On some regular old online chatroom, the Feds would’ve been knocking at his door by now, given how chats could be easily traceable. Besides, he wasn’t a dumbass — only some unskilled troll on the internet would’ve been dumb enough to use a regular chatroom. The BlackNet’s massive levels of encryption and anonymity was virtually unbeatable by the Feds. After all, he’d used it himself before.

His chin was propped up against his knuckles, his elbow on the table, as he watched the ominous “S1GL is typing…” blink by on the bottom of the input box. This had been going on for at least two minutes now, and knowing how tech-savvy Sigil was, he was probably typing up something very long.

And, actually, he was. Once the notification popped up on his screen, he minimized the other window that had been used for listening to music and focused in on the rather lengthy block of text that had been sent to him…

S1GL at 2:48 PM: shad you fucking dunce. You’re done man. Your plan is shit and you know it. A mission like this, if it fails 
would seriously fuck us up, destroy everything we’ve worked for and, might i add,
lead to u being caught and killed. unless you have some other option available i’m not in on this, and you and the basante
sunrise can fuck off and dothe mission yourself if y’all wanna die like heroes ok. I’m not gonna be spending any more
of my time, money, and guys on some little raid you wanna do just so your movement can get popular and
shit. youd have better luck negotiating with the feds now. Im tired of wasting my time with you.


He chuckled, flexed his fingers hysterically, then typed up a response in half the time.

SHADOWDANCER at 2:48 PM: nah man. dont worry about it. Its chill. the ancap guys are already on our side. besides i already got a couple \
turmies and their allies coming in to help us, king knows and he’ll help us too
S1GL at 2:49 PM: im not gonna be wasting my time with you all anymore. Unless you somehow get some people to help you, i ain’t in.
what you’re doing now is suicide. negotiating with king is suicide.
SHADOWDANCER at 2:50 PM: well thats where u’re wrong, cause i already got help. one turmie i know- three actually, dunno how many of their allies
and uhhhh me. say hi to the east weatehr boys for me.

SIGL has left the chat.


“Bitch.” Bradley shut off the monitor, leaving his workstation as he stepped back over to his bed. Unfortunately his prospects were coming true — the infighting within Weather Overground seemed to be getting worse as Euphemie began to capitulate within itself. Hopefully, once the country fell, everyone would get their acts together and go with the Basante Sunrise folks rather than Sigil’s more radical western WO cadre or, even worse, the New Ophrikans.

At least he had Xori. He’d shown his capabilities during the attack on the ENBC headquarters and, since then, had been an invaluable asset rather than a liability. He hoped the same for the Anowans that were allegedly coming to help.

“Time for some shut-eye,” he quickly closed the blinds and, before plopping down onto his bunk, made sure that he grabbed the Mk. 1911[2] that he kept beside his workstation. Anyone or anything that managed to break in would hopefully be receiving a full dose of .45 ACP, preferably to their face. In a tight space like this, missing was almost impossible, after all.

____________________


Not even three hours had passed into his dreamless sleep when Bradley awoke, feeling a chill above his face. The first thing that he noticed which was off and alarming was the fact that the windows were open. He recalled that he’d made all the necessary precautions to ensure his security not just from any potential intruders, but also from mosquitoes. Contrary to the way they’d been before, the blinds were wide open, which immediately set off multiple red flags as he reached for the Mk. 1911 underneath his pillow, stepped off his bunk, then pointed the weapon at the shadowy mass beside him, right in front of his computer. Since it had a clear height advantage he figured the area he was aiming at now was probably a vital organ like a heart or liver, but it didn’t matter now.

He flicked off the safety and eyed the elephant in the room. “Hands where I can see ‘em, Fed, or else I’ll ensure you a swift departure from this plant aboard the .45 ACP train.”




Ingrid’s gaze shifted. From the -in her opinion- garbled mess of grammar and butchery of linguistics, to the sight of a woken Shadowdancer, pistol in hand, and it’s bore aimed squarely at her kidney… Or the flank plate, either or it wouldn’t kill her quick enough where he’d win the following fight. Though she didn’t come here to kill him, if that was her reason the gun wouldn’t have been raised, and she’d already be gone. She stood up to her full height, gaze still upon the man, “Single action only.” came the reply, in a heavily accented Augustan, “Unless you plan on using your imagination to kill me, nothing’s going to happen.”




Uh. Fuck. “Yeah, I figured, but I already know who you are.” Realizing his mistake, he pulled back the hammer, an archaic design flaw which, unfortunately, the modernized handgun kept for some reason, perhaps a reference to its antique counterpart. “You’re a merc. Fern sent you to kill me. That’s not really that surprising. Well, that sucks, cause I got a 6’2” Turmie downstairs that regularly rips the heads of lions off, and I bet you he’ll be up here faster than you, I dunno. Snap my neck?”

Either way, he still had the gun pointed at the thing, so if it made any sudden move, his trigger finger would hopefully back him up.




Ingrid’ eyebrow raised behind the frosted, wedge shaped faceplate, the mercenaries she usually dealt with were nothing more than disgraced soldiers, stuck with jobs as what constituted guarding malls or office buildings, no mercenary she knew would get something like this done. “Given who you’re associating with, a smart bomb would be more appropriate than a lone soldier yes? Furthermore, if I was in here prior to you waking up, I assure you, you would not have woken up in the first place.”

Her hand slowly reached up to her shoulder, a moment later, the sound of velcro ripping echoed quite loudly through the room. Her hand withdrew, a patch obviously in its grasp. She held it in front of her, and in a moment, angled it in such a way where the light from the monitor beside her illuminated that Anowan flag is held, “Knowing this, do you still want to pull that trigger?”




“Kinda, but not really, to be honest.” Bradley lowered the gun and, likewise, eased himself as he flicked the safety back on. “When I was told you’d be inserting into Canten directly, I wasn’t expecting a stealth insertion. Had I been a bit more sleepy I probably woulda shot you either way — no offense, but it’s not every day you see some seven foot monster on your computer in an armored spacesuit.”

He holstered the pistol then, reluctantly, offered her (was it female?) a hand. “You’re probably already well-versed in all my shenanigans. Let’s make this quick: there’s three Turmies downstairs waiting to meet you, and I’ve got the plan already laid out. Why don’t you just answer me a few question firsts: What were you lookin’ at on my computer, and how the fuck did you get in here while I was sleeping?”




Ingrid looked at Shadowdancer’s hand with an odd sense of confusion. Seeing it as nothing more than a small hiccup of waking up she elected to ignore it for the time being. “I was looking at the nigh-illiterate ramblings of two individuals apparently.” a pause, she turned to the computer and spoke, “Grey-Box, you get everything?”

A synthetic and rather alarmingly calm voice echoed through the computer’s speakers, “Yes, all run-times are now open for whatever else is required.”

“Good.” she turned back to the only other living person in the room. “How I got in so easily? Compound’s patrols are too regular, there’s a 3x3 foot hole in the fence on the south side of the compound, three of your guards were sleeping, and the window was open. Among other things one of my men has been actively sitting in a church tower about half a kilometer away taking notional shots at everyone in the compound for four hours. Needless to say your security is… inadequate.” she shrugged, “In any event. We have a meeting?”




This bitch… I swear on FUCK that I closed that window—

“Well, that’s the sad thing about living with a bunch of guerrillas, I guess.” Bradley sighed melodramatically as he stepped over to the door, then stopped. “I really wanna know who that was on my computer, that I just heard, but we’ve got limited time and we’re on a schedule. Lemme show you the Turmies.”

Miraculously the Anowan specops lady was able to fit into the rather narrow hallways of the safehouse. The good thing about it, though, were all the secret nooks and crannies that were built into the hallways themselves - one of them led to a secret corridor chock full of nearly every gun, and the other led to a room that, officially, was not on the house’s blueprints.

Said room contained three people, a computer, and a ceiling fan. One of them was a dark-skinned Turmenistanian who sat by the computer with a rather large and imposing weapon propped up on the wall, seemingly the blend between the ZM7 Shotgun used by the TAFOR’s SOCOM and a semi-automatic grenade launcher. The other two were two white guys with the patches of Duirel, the Turmenistanian paramilitary group, on their vests.

One of the Duirel operators had a snazzy rifle bag that, contrary to its name, did not carry a rifle.

“Before you panic, no, this isn’t an alien,” The Shadowdancer announced to the three— or, rather, one, given how the other two were fast asleep. “This is the Anowan I’ve been talking about. I don’t think she bites.”




The room was cramped, something Ingrid, and pretty much everyone else she knew, would inherently dislike. No room to really accomplish anything, the old saying of ‘knife fight in a phone booth’ came to mind. But worrying about trying to fight someone here wasn’t an issue for once. “Valkyrie. SPECTRA Team 3 Lead.” the callsign was remarkably common in the Anowan special forces community, added a bit of confusion given that alone, but it wasn’t something of choice, once someone joined a SPECCOMM unit they got a callsign assigned. But regardless, it was what she was supposed to go by until came such a time in which she was authorized to give a name.

Exhaling she realize just how atrociously warm it was in the room, the helmet not helping at all. In a moment of thought, she figured that the humanisation of herself would aid to ease things a bit, so her hand reached up to a small latch near the chin of her helmet, a swipe and the wedge shaped AlON faceplate swung up, nearly hitting the ceiling, revealing her face, freckles, as well as her eyes and some tied back hair reaching further back into the helmet. “A pleasure to meet you all.”




“I’m Xori, callsign Actual. SOCOM Commando and Former Group 15 CO,” Xori, the only other person even remotely able to match her height, stood up from the computer to meet the Anowan. Her ginger hair had been tied back as she revealed her face and green eyes to them. It wasn’t something that he would call insanely beautiful, but unlike the two Duirel ruffians snoring away behind him, his mind wasn’t constantly on poontang with the locals or, in this case, the team.

“Those two buffoons behind me are Darren and Hudson from Duirel, a paramilitary group operating within Turmenista and the neighboring countries. Probably the second and third most dangerous people in my country, aside from yours truly.” Afterwards, he gave a nod to the Anowan SPECTRA lead, indicating that he at least had a modicum of respect for her. “Glad to know we’ve still got friends in the end game.”

“Touching.” Bradley folded his arms, checking his watch as he did so. “But we’re on a schedule, and I don’t want to leave out when the Canten National Guard is out and about in full force. Briefing sounds nice?”




Ingrid nodded along, now quite aware that for the time being this was no longer her rodeo to run, to those assembled within, the woman simply jutted her chin out within her helmet, and that resulted in a slight analog click, followed by a few green light illuminating from the faceplate that was hovering above her head. “My team’s regrouping. They’ll be ready if we need to move out.”




“Then you’d better leave your comms on or something. I’ve got a radio frequency that we’ll all be using: 54.6. Tell ‘em to be out at the front, we’re taking the MRAP out front.”

Upon seeing the Shadowdancer prepare to leave the room, Xori tapped the side of one of the bunks with the silenced barrel of his ZM6, giving both of the Duirel operatives a rather rude awakening as one of them hit their heads on the ceiling, swearing loudly, as the other swept out of bed and grabbed the suspiciously-large gun bag from the corner. “Ah, I’m up, Euphie,” Hudson spoke in a thick Turmenistanian dialect, not too similar from Ophrikaans but with a bit of a more tribal click to it. His Augustan, remarkably, was pretty good. “Darren, ya coming?”

“Right when I recover from that fuckin’ headshot,” the second operative, in a much more cautious manner, slipped out of the upper bunk and landed beside his friend. “I guess we can go now.”




With a jerk, Ingrid’s faceplate snapped back down into place. The somewhat muggy feeling of being in a somewhat enclosed suit coming back slowly, but she didn’t complain, she was used to such heat by this point. Shoving herself to the side as much as she could, she decided to let the others lead, seeing as they’d been here much longer than she had.

Her HUD displaying that her team was swiftly closing in on the compound, at least if things went suddenly sideways she’d have the few she could actually rely on with her. That wasn’t to say she didn’t respect the capabilities of the trio of Turmie soldiers, just that the synergy of a team wasn’t present.




The Anowans moved fast — almost frighteningly so, but their speed didn’t matter. For all Xori cared, the Duirel guys were just as fast as their taller and northern counterparts were, albeit lightly-armored for the occasion, but the Duirel had to use what was available and what was the lightest. After all, their entry into Euphemie involved crossing through the mountains, a daunting task all by itself.

He mostly toned out the Shadowdancer giving them the briefing of their meetup with Sigil before the Big One, up until the Shadowdancer mentioned one slight change to their plan:

“Yeah, before we do this, we’re going to have to ask the Governor of Canten something.”

Xori stopped. “The fuck, man?”

“I didn’t tell you?” Bradley had a cheeky grin on his face as the Turmenistanian stepped over to him slowly. “Yeah, apparently Bobby King’s got a sweet spot for the Basante Sunrise movement. He’s talked to Nala before — formally, that is — but this time it’s a closed-door meeting that he’s hosting. I dunno if it’s even legal.”

“And he’s not getting prosecuted for this?”

“Nobody’s even bothering to investigate it. Nobody knows about it, anyways,” Bradley nodded. “This could be our next best opportunity to grab some last minute support from the Feds. If we get Governor King on our side, he and the Canten National Guard are on our side when this shit country goes kaput. Combine that with Sigil and we’re effectively set for the collapse.. which is why I need y’all there.”

“Lemme guess, to prevent ya from eating .50 BMG to the face?” Hudson quipped in, to which the hacker nodded. “Bingo. Now, we gonna do this, or what? Their car is ready, what about yours?”

Xori soon stepped away from the hacker, stepping ahead of the group as the latter rubbed his coat off comically. “Sheesh. I guess nobody got the memo that I’m the most wanted man in this country. Valk, are your guys ready?”




A part of Ingrid was seething, lack of communication like this had recently killed a member of Anowa’s SIGINT community, hell, in the past it had resulted in deaths much closer to her than that. But another part understood the need for secrecy, even if it meant a fully armed LRPV [3] and it’s crew were very much in a capacity to be spotted and tracked. “A bit overdressed, but yes.”

With that she strode her way over to the LRPV, having pulled in front of the compound, and clambered into the passenger seat, giving a nod to Pixy, having taken the wheel for the op, as well as the foreseeable future.

The shortest among them quipped in her native Anowan, “Glad to see things went well.”

Ingrid gave a short grunt of acknowledgment. Doc spotting an issue already, “Problems?”

Ingrid answered in a rather terse and somewhat frustrated tone, “We’re meeting the governor. We may have to shoot our way out if a bystander gets overly curious.”

Doc nodded, “Understood.”

Ingrid leaned over in her seat, spotting the last two on her team sitting in the vehicle’s rear, “You two good?” Moses flashed a thumbs up, as did Kowalski.

With that, Ingrid settled back in, and flashed a thumbs up to the others.




“Right. Get in, boys.”

Xori made the call first, hopping into the driver's seat as Bradley stepped over to the LRPV. “Hey, make sure you lose the Anowan flag patches. Wouldn’t want anyone getting confused as to why people like you all are here. The Turmies have been told the same thing.”

Once that was said and done, the hacker jogged back over to the MRAP, then took his nice and cozy spot in the back of the vehicle beside the two Duirel operators. “Make sure you trash the patches or put ‘em away,” He reminded them. “Wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’re, y’know… Turmies. In Euphemie.”

In response, Hudson and Darren, saying nothing more, simply reached to their right shoulders and pulled off their Duirel Patches with a long, methodical rrrip, then plopped them down in front of the hacker.

“There ya go, Hackerman,” Darren chuckled. “We’re ghosts now. Ooooohhh. Spooky. Like the Turmie driving up front.”

“I really hope that wasn’t intended to be racist,” Xori quipped.

“...Just make sure you don’t act like a bunch of lunatics, alright?” Bradley sighed, meandering up to the drivers seat from the back of the vehicle. “I’ll be staying in here, as will the two Duirel guys. You’ll be going in, big guy. I’ve been told that he should recognize you, but, I dunno. Make sure no one does anything stupid, aight? We’re going to the Canten Governor’s Mansion. You know where it is.”

“Keep those two in this car,” Xori reminded Bradley. “If they get out, it’ll be a shitshow.”

After a nod from the hacker, Xori shifted the gear of the MRAP into drive and drove away from the WO safehouse, bringing the armored vehicle onto the paved roads which led directly to the city of Canten.

____________________



THE BIG MAN

___________________
Governor’s Mansion
Canten
Image Federal States of Euphemie
5/12/2018 - 4:48 AM EST




The Governor’s motorcade had since appeared in front of both of the vehicles, lights and sirens present as they slowly pulled through the gates of the compound and towards the mansion itself. This was, unequivocally, the scariest moment that Xori had ever been through — mere inches away from, otherwise, the enemy. But after the missions they’d been through in the past, he at least had a modicum of trust for the man giving him directions.

“Alright… what now, Shadowdancer?”

Bradley reached up to his chest, then activated his radio, a three-tone chime filling the room as he told everyone in the truck - and the Anowans on the LRPV - what to do.

[BLUFOR] - [SHADOWDANCER] - “Alright, listen carefully. We’re following the motorcade in. Once that happens, the two Duirel guys are gonna be staying with me to make sure I don’t die. Valk, feel free to post anyone you want out here. Xori’s going in with whoever you pick to talk to the Governor. Xori, make sure that microphone is on because I wanna hear what he has to say about the Basante Sunrise this time. One last thing - Don’t die. If the plan goes south, nab Bobby King and get the fuck out of there. Here’s to hoping they don’t shoot and things don’t get ugly.”

“I will try not to,” Xori sighed, stepping off the MRAP just as the motorcade came to a halt. Federal police troopers and National Guardsmen were everywhere, eyeing him up and down suspiciously, as if they’d seen him before, even.




As the vehicle slowed to a halt and started idling, Ingrid couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious, not for herself but for the rest of her team, this was in essence a kill zone, with so many guns in the area in GreenFor hands that the giant of a woman wouldn’t have time to count. The engine of the hydrogen fed supercharged engine keeping it’s throaty baritone echoing across the yard, adding to the tension somewhat.

Anowan cut over the radio, “Moses, with me. We’re going in. The rest of you stay here and keep frosty. Pixy, keep the engine running.” her HUD gave green winks on each of their lights. The two tallest among them dismounted the vehicle, standing at 7’0 and 6’7 Ingrid and Moses would be the first impression of their peoples for a foreign state’s dignitary. For better or worse.




Bobby King didn’t even bother to shake any of their hands, only nodding to each of them as two Federal Troopers led the way into the Governor’s Mansion.

Along with being the place of residence for the acting Governor of Canten, the Governor’s Mansion was also a political center of Canten somewhere along the lines of a capital, though less important in that role. The building itself was similar in appearance and layout to the Euphemian Collis Palatium, the center of the Euphemian executive branch and personal home of George Fern, the president of the Federal States. Rather than name it the Round Office, however, the Rectangle Office was shaped exactly like it sounded: a straightened, boxy form of the Round Office with the Governor’s workstation located by the windows overlooking the city of Canten. Two sofas, a small table, and a grandfather clock were all familiar sights in the room to anyone well-versed in Cantenian politics, but otherwise simply seemed like regular appliances in the room.

Bobby King’s secretary accompanied them into the room. Once the “body guards” were in the Rectangle Office, she stepped back over to the door. “Mr. Scott will be with you for the meeting shortly, Governor King.”

“Thank you, Miss Stacy.” Bobby King gave a nod to his secretary, but notably right before returning a little wink to her as she closed the door. Once the click of her shoes against the floor quickly exited earshot, the Governor sat up from his rolling chair, let out a sigh, then stepped on over to the three accompanying him.

“I suppose I should address the elephant in the room now,” King spoke in a deep, southern Euphemian drawl. “There is no Mr. Scott that will be attending the meeting with us today. Nobody here will be shot, you have my word. The contents of this meeting stays within the walls of this room, and I will ensure the media doesn’t cover this too much.”

He extended a hand to Xori, who reluctantly took the hand and shook it, then directed it over to Ingrid and Moses. “I’m Bobby King. Governor of Canten, Democratic Party. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”




Ingrid took the hand cautiously, basically mimicking what had been done in the same tune seconds ago. Moses following as well. Ingrid couldn’t help but wonder why that of all things was a way of greeting. A zip gun strapped to the wrist, a poison sticker on the palm, general hygiene issues. All were things that risked being taken on when you grabbed a stranger’s hand. “Valkyrie, Anowan Special forces.” She looked to Moses “This is Ulysses. I’m afraid he isn’t as linguistic as I.”




“Well, it’s good to see that we’ve still got friends out here,” King smiled. “I was told that you Anowans would help us out—Turmies too. Euphemie’s on a warpath to destruction and Fern’s riding it shotgun. Although he and I aren’t the best of friends right now, he’s still in charge here, but not for long,” King explained. “Y’all don’t know it but Euphemie is about to collapse in on itself. I don’t want Canten to be a part of this mess when it finally comes down to it. What I’m suggesting is to keep open relations between us and y’all. I need to know that we won’t be alone in this mess when it comes down to hoedown.”

The earpieces of the Anowans in the room and Xori suddenly chirped to life.

[BLUFOR] - [SHADOWDANCER] - “Xori, repeat after me:”

“We’ll be happy to help,” The black man spoke. “A friend of the Basante Sunrise is a friend to Turmenista. Just tell us where you need help and we’ll be happy to assist Canten.”




Ingrid nodded along to the assessment, knowing that she had more than enough clout with a few people to get the state the support it needed. “I can call in a few favors. I’ll see to it that you get the support you’ll be needing.”




“Excellent.” King chuckled with a smile on his face. “Now, about that buddy of yours…”

“Which one?” Xori perked up, continuing to say what the hacker spoke into his ear. Then Bobby King spoke up as well. “Sigil. The Western Weather Overground guy, big guy, lots of guns. Your ally and the one who told me about y’all. Something tells me that he may try to plot against us in the coming days,” He turned to Ingrid, arms folded across his chest. “Y’all have any clue as to why that is so?”




Ingrid shook her head, as the corner of her HUD flashed to life and started giving a readout on what Grey-Box knew about ‘Sigil’. “No, though if he’s as big of a problem as you say he might be we can simply pay him a visit so to speak.” a pause, “What reason do you have to expect his betrayal?”




“A split within the Weather Overground itself,” King answered grimly. The East and West sectors have hated each other for the longest time, you see, and they’ve been sowing shit — excuse my language — in each other’s backyards during that time. Unfortunately, Canten’s right in the middle of the country, and in the middle of their infighting. To top it all off, the Basante Sunrise’s suffering basically because of it. Sigil might go his own way if the East and West halves of the organization split, and if that does happen, that might mean the creation of hostilities between him and us. And, let me remind y’all, the Basante Sunrise doesn’t even have a proper army like the New Ophrikans. Any battles would become rather one-sided, you see.”

He lowered his arms. “Now, that’s just speculation. All speculation, but I’m just warning y’all.”




Ingrid nodded slowly, her head slowly turned to Xori, “So I take it our prior plans have now changed?”




“Seems like it. If Sigil’s gone rogue then there’s no more negotiations with him. There’s a chance that we can talk some sense into him—if not, then we may have to plan on removing him from the picture. The only problem with that is that Sigil’s got an entire army and all we have is.. well.. us.”

The Turmensitanian returned to the governor. “Mr. King, there still remains the possibility that Sigil may be able to have a change of mind before he splits the weathermen in the west from the weathermen in the east. We already mentioned before that we would be willing to help Canten in the event of Euphemie’s collapse, but can you guarantee that Canten will be able to help the Basante Sunrise?”

Bobby King answered almost immediately. “I’d be happy to accept help from Turmenista and Anowa if we secede. Hell, get the entire CS in on it, too. Right now is a different story. Telling the Federal troops to refrain from shooting people that would otherwise be considered Basante Sunrise mercs is something that I can’t do. But I’ve got a plan — you were gonna meet with Sigil, right?”

“Correct,” Xori nodded.

“Tell him in person that I want to meet with him. A public meeting, to discuss peace talks with his sector of the Weather Overground.”

[BLUFOR] - [SHADOWDANCER] - “Xori, tell him that’s fucking crazy.”

“I like what you’re thinking, Mr. King,” Xori smirked, but soon returned to his regular frown of indifference. “But I don’t think that Sigil will necessarily agree to that, nor will his organization. Not to mention, what would the reaction from your people be?”

“People said I was crazy when I met with Nala,” Bobby began. “But I did it anyways, and look at it now: The Basante Sunrise is practically ubiquitous among the public. What’s to say they won’t think the same with Sigil?”

[BLUFOR] - [SHADOWDANCER] - “His army.”

“His army.”

“I’ve got a National Guard and an entire division of the military under my control, albeit, the troops don’t really like me, but Canten’s their home. Tell you what, fellas..”

He opened the large laptop that had been charging on his desk, then detached the removable screen and laid it on his desk, motioning for the group to gather at his desk. “Look here. My recon guys say that Sigil’s probably somewhere in Mendenhall. Don’t worry, I’ve neither the power nor the authority to bomb him, and I don’t want to, frankly. Otherwise, is that correct?”

“He usually frequents Victoria, cause that’s where he meets with the others of the Western Weather Overground. But, yeah, Mendenhall. He told us earlier that he’s considering moving to Victoria—”

“Then Mendenhall it is,” The Governor said. “I’ve got a couple of Canten NG Dumvees on standby outside and we’ll get you over there to Mendenhall in no time. The NG’s not gonna shoot you since we’ve stopped fighting the Basante Sunrise, but the Federal Troops or Mendenhall NG is a different story. Here’s also to hoping that Sigil doesn’t send a division our way to kill y’all.”

Xori turned to Valkyrie after the Governor stopped. “Sounds like a plan, then.”




Ingrid hummed, “I suppose.” To be perfectly fair, Ingrid was not looking forward to this at all, besides the obvious risk of treachery from the Governor. There were a number of factors that would make it difficult for them both in terms of actually getting there, but also dealing with the issue and getting out. Were it not a risk to the thousands living in Mendenhall she’d suggest just dropping a tungsten rod on sigil and being done with it. But Ingrid knew not everything was that easy.




“Then y’all better get moving before he leaves,” Governor King declared. “The Dumvees are already outside, and they’ve been informed already of y’all’s destination. While I can assure you that the Mendenhall NG or Federal Troops won’t shoot you, I can’t say the same for the weathermen out in the west. I just hope that Sigil’ll be kind enough to accept my offering.”

Xori nodded at the man. “Thank you, Governor King.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, I’m gonna have to ask y’all to leave my office now. I’ve got an actual meeting starting in about five minutes.”

Flashing him another nod out of customary respect, Xori started for the door first, then promptly left the office. Once they were outside and in the hall, they were greeted by a soldier from the Canten National Guard, who motioned the Governor’s guests towards the stairwell leading to the entrance of the building.

The radio chirped in each of their ears, inaudible to the soldier.

[BLUFOR] - [SHADOWDANCER] - “Get here quick. I don’t want to stay out here for long with all these National Guard troops around. If all else fails on trying to talk to Sigil, we bug out and return to Canten. For all I know, Governor King could’ve just laid a trap for us, so play it cool. I’ll monitor their comms from here on out.”




As Ingrid got back into the passenger’s seat of the LRPV, and Moses clamboured his way into the back, she sat for a moment, feeling a few pairs of eyes on her. “So, we’re probably walking into a trap.”

Pixy hummed, “Twice in one day isn’t too bad.”

“Just make sure D-17 is on standby.” came Kowalski from the back.

“I’ll try.”

Ingrid just hoped Team 8 would be able to keep up.

_________________________




HIGHWAY TO HELL

__________________________________
Highway I69
Mendenhall
Image Federal States of Euphemie
5/12/2018 - 7:48 AM EST




Thus far, the ride to Mendenhall had been long and uneventful, though due to the low amount of traffic (the interstate highways had been mostly cleared off to serve as fast transit for the military) their trip wasn’t marred with traffic, such as with Canten’s highways and roads. Nonetheless, Xori still kept an eye out on the road ahead of them. He was no stranger to ambushes on Turmenista’s more rural roads and even in a city or two, but these were mostly done by unorganized street ruffians or other militias. What feared him the most was Sigil’s Weather Overground cadre, which was essentially a heavily-militarized militia that, thus far, had managed to keep an entire Euphemian military division at bay and had the capability for long-range support, as it had demonstrated in assisting the Basante Sunrise in taking over the ENBC headquarters in Canten.

Xori turned the music to the radio down as the leading Dumvee in the convoy began to slow down, bright red lights in the dawn emanating from its brake lights. Then the Dumvee ahead of their MRAP began to slow down — at this point, Xori was just about ready to pull out his weapon and prepare for an ambush, though soon calmed himself down as the Dumvees simply turned peeled off onto a side highway also leading to Mendenhall.

“We’re on an auxiliary highway,” the black man announced to the rest of the men in the back, spotting the Anowan LRPV still following them in the mirrors behind their MRAP. “This should shorten the ride. I think.”

“No activity on their comms,” The Shadowdancer announced. “Aside from general chatter. This ride’s been safe, almost too safe, y’know?”

“Right.”

“So if King’s really planning an ambush, we’ll be on a four-sided fight between us, the Feds, his guys, and Sigil.”

Xori huffed loudly. “I’m not in the mood to be in a four-sided fight.”

“Can’t help ya on that. Hopefully the others won’t be as.. tilted, as you were.”




Ingrid couldn’t help but agree as the rotary gun above her was spooled up preemptively. Doc had been through enough to trust his gut. He wasn’t the only one, in the back, Kowalski and Moses both shuffled themselves into firing lines that the rotary gun and passenger side GL couldn’t reach. Ingrid herself racked the bolt on the 40mm auto launcher, as Pixy shifted a few controls in the dash around. Immediately the whine of a turbocharger resounded from the engine bay of the vehicle.

They were ready for trouble, almost a klick behind them Ingrid hoped that Team 8 could accelerate fast enough to catch up should things go south.




“Hey, would you look at that!” The Shadowdancer pointed to one of the billboards along the side of the highway, apparently advertising a popular video game, The Final Frontier. “They finally released a seque-”

The Dumvee in front of them suddenly disappeared in a miasma of fire, smoke, and debris, the highway itself seemingly warping upwards for a moment as pieces of the road, dirt, and dust erupted from the crater that had just appeared. As had the Dumvee which had, moments ago, rolled right over an IED. The vehicle’s woodland camouflage was scorched and burned from the explosion, the man on the machine gun on top flung from the vehicle and killed upon impact with the road several feet away. Anyone else unfortunate enough to be in the Dumvee either died from the ensuing rollover or from shrapnel being thrown through their vital organs.

Xori swore and hit the brakes. Had he not, their vehicle would’ve been next to be hit by the second IED, the second Dumvee suffering a similar fate to the first one. The MRAP barreled past the wrecked Dumvees, pushing them out of the way as the two vehicles progressed down the highway.

“Take a right down here—” The Shadowdancer pointed to another road which led into town. Civilian cars were driving normally down this road. “Had we kept going down that road, we would-”

He stopped talking mid-way as something huge emerged from the bushes,

If it wasn’t clear back in the meeting, then it was probably clear now: Sigil and the Western Weather Overground weren’t on their side, and they had a red and black BMP-1 coming right out from the side of the road to prove it.

[BLUFOR] - [SHADOWDANCER] -”IEDs are on the highway. We haven’t rolled over any yet. Probably 1 klick ahead, there’s a fucking BMP, let’s try to not run into it and I’ll get us out of here. Take a right where we do, and do not go down that road.”

The BMP fired its main gun indiscriminately, overshooting the two MRAPs by a longshot as the round instead flew into a concrete wall near a nearby gas station.




Shit kicked off, just as everyone in the vehicle expected it to. Ingrid took a better firing position, Pixy slamed her foot down, and Doc fired a rather lengthy burst at the BMP down the road, Raufoss rounds blasting through the old communist armor like a hot knife through butter, whether or not the vehicle would remain combat effective was yet to be seen, and it swiftly left visual as Pixy pulled the agile vehicle to the front of the convoy.

Less than 20 seconds had passed and behind them, yet another vehicle pulled into view, Team 8’s LRPV, the sight of a rocket discharging from the back as it sped towards where the BMP was last seen. The sound of an explosion and weapons cooking off resounded that if Doc hadn’t taken it out, the other SPECTRA team had. The TOW armed vehicle made it’s way to a safe location at the back of the convoy, the gunner giving a thumbs up to the two MRAPs in front of them, signifying a greeting.

Ingrid called out above the tinnitus ringing in everyone’s ears, “How are we doing on fuel, Pixy?”

“Enough for the rest of the trip. We’ll be good, don’t worry.”




The now three-vehicle convoy sped past the flaming BMP, largely ignoring the flaming vehicle and its inhabitants, who—likewise on fire— clambered out onto the side of the road, the vast majority flopping down beside the vehicle before they even made it out to the road.

It was a grim sight to see, considering these had been the exact guys that, supposedly, were on their side, now suffering the consequences of their betrayal.

“Heads up.” Xori snapped his gaze away from the flaming BMP, as he spoke to the other three inhabitants of the MRAP. Outside, the one of the Anowan LRPVs had pulled up in front of the MRAP whilst the other trailed behind them. “We’ve got company right up ahead. Let ‘em know, Shadowdancer. Tell them to take a right here..”

In hindsight, “Company” wasn’t really the best word to use in a situation like this, considering that their “Company” took the form of an AH-82 Condor gunship hovering right above the roadblock, along with two Dumvees and an M1116 ASV[4] blocking the road ahead.

As the hacker went away with informing the Anowans of their predicament, Xori flipped a switch adjacent to the car’s dashboard, firing off the smoke grenade launchers mounted on the front of the MRAP preemptively before hitting the brakes and executing a right turn, taking them onto yet another small road leading out of Mendenhall. The thick cloud of smoke that followed was enough to stall the roadblock, but the Condor effectively ignored it and began to pursue the three vehicles as they barreled down the side road, which was covered with thick underbrush and tall trees. It would’ve served as the perfect hiding spot, if they weren’t being chased down by a gunship with infrared, thermal, and night vision cameras.

The gunship hadn’t fired yet, likely still attempting to find a good angle to stop the convoy. In that time, Xori contacted the two LRPVs behind their MRAP, occasionally looking up to see where the Condor was now. “Valk, I feel as if now would be a good time to ask you if you have any air support for us — at the current moment, I’ve got nothing except for a chopper twenty minutes out, and even he isn’t supposed to be here.”

“Screw your chopper, man!” Hudson screamed from the back as Darren reached for his rifle, slapping in a 100 round magazine into the weapon. Hudson had since pulled out his mysterious bag which, upon opening it, revealed a large, black, box-like weapon that gave out an audible hum upon the safety being switched off. “That chopper is about to get fried, boys.”

“Yeh, and everyone else around here,” Darren argued , pushing the man out of the way as he clambered to the back of the MRAP. The doors were kicked open and Darren’s rifle now poked to the sky, his sights aimed right on the Condor soaring above them in the orange skies of the sunrise.

“Chime in, you motherfucks!” Darren shouted, before switching his weapon into full auto and dumping the magazine out at the helicopter.




Every gun not pointed forward or in the possession of a driver from the Anowan nationals turned towards the attack helicopter. The shell casing started forming a small stream of brass behind the vehicles, as round after round peppered the cockpit glass, main rotor, and tail.

Within moments Doc’s GAU ripped a hole in the tail, while the main rotor started smoking hazardously. The final nail in the coffin as the Apache started wobbling was a member of Team 8 busting out an AT Rocket, sending it true into the underbelly of the helicopter, shredding whatever controls is still had and causing the 30mm to start cooking off. With the crew of the vehicle now chum, the craft veered harshly before slamming into the forest floor out of view.

“Good Kill!” came the Anowan reply over the radio, likely whoever had shot the craft down, not that it was needed. “We still gotta worry about pursuers to the rear!”

Normally Pixy would have dropped back to lend a little extra firepower to the rear vehicle, but the road they were on was simply too narrow for that. So she remained firmly fixed on the road ahead.




Although derived from the M116, a more archaic ASV which had amazing off road capabilities, the M1116 performed absolutely pitifully offroad, lagging behind the faster and better-suited Dumvees which trailed steadily behind the two LRPVs and MRAP. The main difference between the Dumvees and the Anwoan offroad MRAPs were the weapons capable of being mounted — the Dumvees merely carried M2 Heavy Machine guns and M240 medium machine guns, all of which were currently aimed at the larger MRAP between the two LRPVs gunning it down the road, seemingly immune to the damage.

But then, there came a flash from a clearing east of the forest, towards where they were inbound in the first place. Before they knew it, one of the Dumvees was decomissioned by a RPG round that had come sailing in from the clearing, The other Dumvee, as well as the LRPVs and MRAP, had also come under fire from a machine gun in the clearing which, upon their exit from the woods, had shown itself as a BMP-2, turret aimed up at the hill which the vehicles rode down from.

Xori knew they all would’ve likely died right here, had the Weather Overground BMPs not been aiming at them. Instead, the mechanized Weatherman force was preparing for an entirely different enemy; one which came first in the form of a Condor firing off its rocket pods at the BMP, then as an entire formation of Euphemian utility and attack helicopters, accompanied by Dumvees, M1116s, and light tanks.

Then, it became clear what they had just run into: a showdown between the Western Weather Overground armies and the Euphemian Military Air Cavalry.

They needed to get out of there right away, else they end up dead in the crossfire that was about to ensue.




Ingrid frowned, something she didn’t do all too often. They were now in a situation in which in most cases they’d bug out and drop a bomb on it all, civvies be damned. This was basically a 3 way fight now and they had no support, simply three vehicles and roughly a dozen troops. It was not something she wished to be involved in.

A stray round from the fight they were driving through smashed into her faceplate. Her head jerking to the side rather unceremoniously as her head recoiled from the shock. As she caught herself, the massive crack in the ballistic glass was evident, a bullet making a massive gouge in the plate and leaving it compromised.

“Ingrid!”

It was Pixy, Doc too busy shooting anything that moved to realize she’d been tagged, and the rest of the team doing much the same. “I’m fine. The moment you get a chance radio Gungnir, have them on standby, strike package Io!”

Ingrid proceeded to undo a quintet of latches on her helmet, the faceplate coming off and fracturing by her feet, the transparent visor in which all her HUD displayed on to still working fine. Radioing the Turmies, she spoke “I just got shot in the head so you’ll excuse my brevity. Where is this sack of shit?”




“Somewhere in here, I got no fuckin’ cl-,” the black man was rudely interrupted when a flash appeared from one of the church towers they rode by, bouncing off of the MRAP’s reinforced ballistic glass windshield, but nonetheless giving him a scare that he wasn’t expecting.

Then it had become evident what they were dealing with: A Euphemian sniper was in the church tower, and had almost taken the head off of Valkyrie.

“There’s your answer,” Xori answered over the comms. “Church tower, bearing two-four-zero on my helmet. I recommend nailing the fuck now when you’ve still got the chance.”

The MRAP took yet another turn, this time gunning it down a road that had been chosen as the site for the two opposing forces. According to the Shadowdancer’s increasingly frantic screaming, they’d likely only scratched the surface of what this battle was turning out into.




The tower was unceremoniously obliterated by a TOW missile. However that wasn’t Ingrid’s intent, “I meant your bastard of a friend Sigil, I couldn’t give less of a shit about who shot me.” She paused, leaning over she grabbed the auxiliary microphone to Pixy’s radio pack. “Metro Actual to Gungnir. Over.”

[BLUFOR] - [Gungnir] - [ORCON] - [ASTRO] - [COL.AGRUN] - /// - “Gungnir, send it Metro. Over.”

Ingrid continued, “Requesting standby on strike Package Io, one round, coordinates and designation to follow. Over.”

[BLUFOR] - [Gungnir] - [ORCON] - [ASTRO] - [COL.AGRUN] - /// - “Requesting authorisation code. Over.”

“19-3-53 Gamma, Sigma, Nu. Over.”

[BLUFOR] - [Gungnir] - [ORCON] - [ASTRO] - [COL.AGRUN] - /// - “Authorisation code confirmed, Rod on standby. Over.”

Ingrid placed the aux mic back into its place in Pixy’s pack, before turning her attention back to the other team, “All I need is coordinates or a relatively close location. I’ve got a tungsten rod in orbit ready to drop.”




Whilst Xori weaved the MRAP around like it was a sporting yacht, and whilst the two Duirel operatives in the back continued their spree of shooting everything that moved, Bradley retreated back from the passenger seat to the much more spacious (and arguably safer) interior of the MRAP.

“If I were to guess, the city of Mendenhall itself,” the hacker said in short, prompting Xori to assume an odd look of confusion. “Yeh, go ahead and drop a rod onto the city itself and kill tens of thousands of civilians, would you?”

“No, you dumbass, let me think!” The hacker reeled away from the left wall of the MRAP, which caved in slightly on several points as small arms fire harmlessly pinged off the side of the truck. Then, a hole the size of a small coin appeared where his head had once been, seemingly piercing straight through the MRAP and through the other wide.

“Fuckfuckfuck! Okay.. uh… toss me your COMMLINK!” He shouted to Xori, who promptly threw him the map/PDA hybrid like a frisbee. “Don't break it!”

The Shadowdancer frantically panned across the screen before eventually settling upon the city of Mendenhall — more specifically, the prairies outside of the city in its rather bland name: the industrial sector.

“Grid reference as follows,” Bradley spoke over the radio once more. “One, One, Six, Two, Six, Seven. Approximately the outskirts of Mendenhall near a ‘J.Q. Denton condominium’, since abandoned. That should be where Sigil would be, if I were him like this. The other location, his main HQ, is just too close to civilians. That's your best bet.”




Ingrid growled in frustration. “Fucking amateurs.”digging out the map from her pocket she started looking between the two for the grid commonality. After a few seconds she found the grid on one map. Looking to the other she found the grid in question, before stuffing both maps back into her carrier.

“Gungnir, Metro, Grid reference for Io strike as follows. How copy? Over.”

[BLUFOR] - [Gungnir] - [ORCON] - [ASTRO] - [COL.AGRUN] - /// - “Awaiting coordinates. Send it. Over.”

“Four Kappa Phi Gamma, Two-One-Three, Four-Seven-Nine. Over.”

[BLUFOR] - [Gungnir] - [ORCON] - [ASTRO] - [COL.AGRUN] - /// - “Four Kappa Phi Gamma, Two-One-Three, Four-Seven-Nine. Confirmed. Be advised, variable accuracy puts the possible stray round over three hundred meters at 47%. Do you have any tighter coordinates? Over.”

“Negative Gungnir, that’s the best we’ve been given. Over.”

[BLUFOR] - [Gungnir] - [ORCON] - [ASTRO] - [COL.AGRUN] - /// - “Copy that Metro. We need to confirm deployment with OPHCOMM, wait one. Over.”


Ingrid sighed, “Copy, Gungnir. Over.” After roughly 20 seconds of waiting, Ingrid got her reply.

[BLUFOR] - [Gungnir] - [ORCON] - [ASTRO] - [COL.AGRUN] - /// - “Gungnir to Metro-Actual. Authorisation for strike has been given. Shot it out, I repeat, shot is out. I suggest hunkering down.”

“Copy Gungnir. Shot is out. Over.”

Ingrid radioed to the other vehicles, “Round is on the way, hold on to your teeth.”

[BLUFOR] - [Gungnir] - [ORCON] - [ASTRO] - [COL.AGRUN] - /// - “Splash out. Over.”

“Copy, Splash Out. Over.”

Seconds later the streak of burning white ripped into view, before slamming into something outside the city. The sound of the impact reached her ears, as well as the shockwave kicking up enough dust to reduce visibility by a significant amount.

“Metro to Gungnir, Mission Complete. Good effect on target. Over and Out.”

One last radio to the other teams, “Which way is out of this city?”




“Highway I69, where we came from — just the opposite direction. Look for a Collier road that goes into the highway.” With a sigh, Xori added, “Here's to hoping we get there in one piece.”

He floored it down the road in question. Thankfully, the Euphies and Weathermen seemed too interested in trying to kill each other and/or recover from the orbital strike to even consider mounting a retaliatory strike against the Anowan and Turmenistanian team.

Nonetheless, they still needed to get out of there. The fact that a Euphemian LAV-30[5] still existed by the entrance to the highway, otherwise blocking their path, ticked him off even more than the fact that there still remained a dedicated few who were still actively trying to kill them.

He activated the MRAP’s smoke canister launchers once more, before executing a turn to quickly speed by the LAV’s blind spot. It was too busy engaging its own counterpart, a commandeered M1116 with a grenade launcher and autocannon, to even bother trying to shoot at the escaping Turmies and Anowans with anything larger than a commander-controlled Machine Gun on the top of its turret.

With the smokescreen to cover their escape, the MRAP and the two LRPVs quickly slipped away from the chaos happening outside of Mendenhall, leaving behind a massive crater where the J.Q. Denton condominiums had once stood, as well as a huge battle that was quickly extending beyond the confines of where it had originally started.






AAR

_________
Basante Sunrise HQ
Canten
Image Federal States of Euphemie
5/12/2018 - 11 AM EST




“I take it that the negotiations didn’t go as planned?”

Xori didn’t even bother answering Nala Obu—nor did the rest of his part of the team, for that matter. Only the Shadowdancer remained with the Basante Sunrise’s de facto leader, arms folded as the three men passed by the entrance of the building silently. Their vehicles didn’t look too hot either; the MRAP had been scarred from burns and dirt, not to mention covered with an uncomfortably large amount of bullet holes and dents from where bullets too small to get through bounced off its thick armor. The LRPVs weren’t spared from the treatment that the MRAP had been given as well. Albeit, due to their lower profile and faster speed they made away with a little more than just a few scratches, burns, and dirt splotches, and a few bullet holes here and there that hadn’t hit anything essential.

Bradley nodded his head upon being asked the question. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

“What?”

“Sigil’s gone rogue.”

Ingrid snorted, “That’s one way of putting it I suppose.”

“What do you mean by rogue, Thomas?”

“Gee, I dunno,” Bradley flailed his arms in the air. “Maybe planting IEDs on I69 and trying to kill us all, then trying to snipe our asses with a capped BMP. That sorta rogue. I first thought he just wasn’t going to help us anymore based on what was on my computer, but no, this bitch is outrought trying to kill us now. Hopefully, that tungsten rod that just slapped down on his safehouse should do him good..”

The rest of the team passed by the three as Nala deliberated over the news, hand on her chin before returning to the Shadowdancer and Valkyrie. “So, it’s confirmed that his side’s not helping us anymore. Do you have any idea why that might be?”

“He mentioned the WO splitting, that’s all.” Bradley shrugged. “At this point, we’re practically on our own out here. The East and West cadres of the Weather Overground are poised to kill each other at any moment with full-blown armies and shit, and all we’ve got is… some guys with guns, and a MRAP. We’re in no position to fight them, and we’re definitely in no position to fight the Feds, Nala.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.”

“Eh?”

“See, the Weather Overground will very well try to kill each other, yeah, but they wouldn’t dare mess with the Feds. Not even Canten—the state’s got a National Guard barracks every couple kilometers now, and a big military presence in general. Now, if we were to get Bobby King on our side…”

“...Then defending Canten wouldn’t be an issue.” the Shadowdancer finished.

“Bingo. Now, we’re going to go up to the Governor’s mansion ourselves, you and me, and you’re going to tell him everything I want you to tell him. Then, he’s going to tell me everything I want him to hear. We’ll go later today, after everything’s died down.”

She turned to leave, then Bradley in turn looked at her as she entered the building. “And if he doesn’t?

“He will.”

Before he could respond she had already left the area. All Bradley could do at this point was give a sigh. He wondered if Nala’s plan would even work. In the end — let alone, if Bobby King was sympathetic enough to them to allow it to happen — and if he could even stomach the price of failure. For all the cared, they were treading on thin waters; any failure would mean that they, and everything they worked for, would be fucked.

Here’s to hoping this shit doesn't come into fruition, Bradley gave a mental sigh, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he left the area to debrief.




CONTEXT NOTES

[1] - The BlackNet refers to parts of the Internet whose contents are not indexed by standard web search engines for any reason. The content of the BlackNet is hidden behind highly-encrypted HTTP forms, effectively making it invisible to the "surface web". Its clandestine existence and nigh untraceable nature have been taken advantage of by the wealthy and the tech-savvy, who often repurpose BlackNet chatrooms into secure rooms for engaging in conversations or exchanging illegal goods.

[2] - The Mk. 1911, despite its archaic design and single-action feature, still sees action among collectors, military specialists, and firearms enthusiasts simply because of how durable it is.

[3] - The LRPVs are offroad-capable utility vehicles utilized primarily by Anowan Special Forces, capable of mounting a myriad of weaponry and carrying a total of 6 people and their equipment into battle. They have been compared to "dune buggies with huge engines."

[4] - The M1116 Armored Security Vehicle (ASV) is an internal security vehicle and armored car. It was developed in the late 90s for service with the Euphemian Military. The M1116 was one of the first Euphemian military vehicles to be built on a specialized mine-resistant hull, and was adopted in increasing numbers as a direct response to the threat posed by IEDs to Euphemian forces at home. Its armament consists of an Mk 19 grenade launcher and M2HB Browning machine gun and a M240H Medium Machine Gun mounted outside the gunner's hatch. The vehicle was utilized by Euphemian military police and convoy security units.

[5] - The LAV-30 (Light Armored Vehicle) is an eight-wheeled amphibious armored reconnaissance vehicle and infantry fighting vehicle used by the Euphemian Military. LAV-30s are equipped with a 25 mm M242 chain gun, two 7.62 mm machine guns (1 coaxial and 1 commander controlled), and two 4-barrel smoke grenade launchers located on the forward left and right sides of the turret. It, additionally, is capable of mounting a WOW-2 Anti-Tank Missile launcher, capable of firing two anti-tank missiles before needing to reload (8 missiles in total)
Last edited by Turmenista on Sun May 20, 2018 10:41 pm, edited 3 times in total.

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