NATION

PASSWORD

The Will of the Machine {IC | Private}

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

Advertisement

Remove ads

User avatar
Cheweilang
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 12
Founded: Jul 21, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Cheweilang » Wed Feb 06, 2019 1:14 pm

THE CHEWÉILANG CAPITOL BUILDING
SHAODAN, CHEWÉILANG
OCTOBER 16, 2057



The large chamber echoed with the voice of the machine.
"Ms. Petoli, you must understand the circumstances we face at this time. The whole world seems to be at eachothers' throats, and neither the death of Wen or the unpredictable invasion of Ferdair are helping ease the tension. Our citizens are proving themselves to be...erratic, and we have the local outburst of the Red Hand to deal with as well."
POEs body swiveled to face Jylius.
"Even you, Jylius, seem to be on edge. You, the leader of a behemoth of military perfection and efficiency, are worried. That is a sure sig-" POE was cut off by Jylius's intervention.
"POE, I think even you could understand what the rest of us think. By us I mean the world. There is OBVIOUSLY something happening behind our back. Perhaps even yours! This secrecy...it's unprovoked. We would be fine with it if you weren't doing such suspicious things on our borders and with our enemies. I'm beggining to doubt the integrity of your rule."
"Our allies to the West, including you, are our closest. I apologize personally for this secrecy. I believe these broken bonds we share could be mended.
POE closely followed Jylius as she rose.
"I hope to hear your verdicts at the council."
Jylius walked down the hall and entered the elevator, her guards closely following as they met her at the bottom.
"Goodbye, machine." She whispered as she left the cursed building.




GUAN JE MILITARY MANAGEMENT CENTRE
SHAODAN, CHÉWEILANG
OCTOBER 24, 2057



Han Jie slammed his fists against the board table.
"Backstabbing bastards! They preach about their purity then soil it through the murder of thousands!" His face turned bright red as he fumed, looking to his closest generals.

The high-ceilinged room was accompanied by long red banners, brandishing the PDC logo and Chéweinese seal. At the bottom of the chamber sat a long table, with around fourty older men sweating at their seats and sorting through documents. One of these men, at seat number 22, was as artificial as he was real. POE looked about the men, his metal chassis glowing as his camera retinal sensors scanned documents as he sifted through them. Han struggled for words.
"We must take action! Show them who they're messing with! They can't bully our allies without damn consequences!"
A riot started between the officials, most agreeing. Only a few stayed silent, including POE and a younger general, who spoke once the ruckus died down.
"Gentlemen... as POE has said before, we must take this one step at a time. If we move quickly, we will miss a step and fall short of our end goal."
Nearly every eye in the room turned to him.
"Who is this man? Jie?" Yelled out an older official.
The young man cut off Jie before he could even open his mouth. "I am Yuji Takeyanda, Captain Major first class. I was sent here as requested by my higher-ups."
Some of the older men nodded to eachother, remembering this decision.
"Now, as I was saying, the other nations of the world are most likely going to hesitate before throwing themselves into danger, but only for a second. It's during that second that we need to hold them there peacefully, before delievering a blow behind their back, just have they have done to us, except more...subtle." The officials were desperately jotting down ideas and notes. "Addafas is on edge, especially. They have done a monsterous act that can be justified in some ways. But we must object to this and use the horrors of death as a leverage point to win the others over. Our 'atrocities' in the invasion of Jaiwon? Justified. Our communications with exterior forces? Justified. We must keep ourselves in a light of innocence, remaining vigilant to our enemies' moves, then strike when the moment is right. This starts now, gentlemen."
The officials clapped, stood, and promptly started talking and running to leave. Takeyanda's young voice had envigorated the old generals of the dragon nation.




THE JUN LIANG MEMORIAL FORUM CENTRE
GUAOANDISHI, CHÉWEILANG
OCTOBER 30, 2057/size]



[size=150]Finally, the room quieted down, as the opening speaker addressed everyone attending and listed off the schdedule. It began, as usual, with Chéweilang's speaker, Go Aji. She spoke. "Six days ago, an atrocity was commited by one of the largest nations in the world, against one of the smallest. An unprovoked attack by Addafas was carried out against our allies, West Stortland. Thousands of innocent lives were lost in an agregious event that will forever go down in our histories. And for what? Recently the military of Addafas have become more and more offensive, carrying out multiple invasions on old allies. Were these provoked and justified events, perhaps we could come to a civil understanding, but the fact that Addafas moves in silence cannot be prohibited! We Chéweinese understand that these are days of confusion, and even we have moved in secret, but today marks an era of peace! We must come toghether as one, as we always have."
Many different reactions erupted through the halls as naton representitives cheered and clapped whilst some exchanged whispers as angered glances. Many were moved by the wording of Aji, as they discussed the strange actions Addafas had done, while also ridiculing the secrecy of the Chéweinese.
As if by some divine force, Addafas was scheduled directly aftered Chéweilang.
Last edited by Cheweilang on Wed Feb 06, 2019 1:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Kero

User avatar
Addafas
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 18
Founded: Jul 29, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Addafas » Wed Feb 06, 2019 4:04 pm

The Jun Liang Memorial Centre
Guandishi, Cheweilang
October 30,2057






Capileans and Cheweinese were giving them all glares. Of course they would, ever since Wen died they've been best buddies. Amelia Wright the speaker for the parliament and empress spoke in response to the claims laid before by Cheweilang" Anyone with half a brain would know that this past month has had tension on a global, painful scale. The Jaiwon invasion? It was a blood bath on an epic proportion for what? retaliation for a few stragglers breaking through. Ferdair is literally unrecognizable now. The death and destruction that London saw was Neil compared to what you lot are suggesting. Yes many of you are concerned about the lives, and bulliyng, that's awful, if we went in on foot i'm curtain many civilians would have been blown up or shot. Daprax was a sudden and reflex decision, a plan for Strotlan was planed all the way back in June. of 2056. Trust me when Jylius and Alid heard of the attack we were conflicted. We were happy that the British Isles would be an asset but we were furious at the air force's unplanned, unthoughtout attack and we had their funding decreased and moved it to the Royal Guard and a relief fund to any devastated city if the world is plunged into a war, and the men who order the bombing, removed. But why, Aji? when you were talking about unwarranted attacks, why did you forget to mention Ferdair. I feel like Capile should have some questioning as well."

Amelia and the reps of Capile were arguing back and forth when a slam was heard behind Amelia. It was Jylius slamming her elbows on the table with her face buried in her forearms. all eyes were on her. it was quiet for a few moments but soon rose. she was cursing in Latin at the table. Addafas hasn't spoken in Latin at the councils ever. " I think she's suffering a migraine" spoke a saint hawk rep. "Then get her out of here" someone from Kormindi said.

On the way though the way out she vomited on the Royal Sentinel escorting her out and fell to the floor.

"Enough! Quit worrying over her she'll be fine!", Johannes Friedl spoke out with a booming voice." The council must not be distracted by a little sick woman"...
Last edited by Addafas on Wed Feb 06, 2019 10:34 pm, edited 3 times in total.

User avatar
The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile
Senator
 
Posts: 4689
Founded: Jul 12, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Sun Feb 10, 2019 1:46 pm

JUAN LIANG MEMORIAL FORUM CENTRE
GUAOANDISHI, CHÉWEILANG
OCTOBER 30, 2157



There is only one thing worse than fighting with allies- fighting without them.
Winston Churchill



Johannes Friedl watched Jylius leave the room as an uneasy silence fell over the councilroom. The remaining Addafasian representatives seemed inarticulate without their empress. After an extended pause, Friedl rose to his feet.

"As the Allied Circle's Security Officer, I must also condemn the atrocity Addafas has committed. We cannot allow incidents such as these to go unpunished." Before Friedl could go on, there was an outburst from the far corner of the room. Johannes turned to see a refined-looking man rising to his feet, clearly incensed.

"Addafas has breached international security with this senseless attack against my nation!" the representative of Stortlan yelled. "They initiated an unprovoked attack against a fellow member of the Allied Circle! This calls for immediate and lethal retaliation!"

"I couldn't agree more," the Capilean interjected, regaining control of the meeting, "although I must ask the honored emissary from East Stortlan to hold his peace." Reluctantly, the red-faced man returned to his seat, and Johannes changed his tone from sympathetic to scathing in an instant. "Before I outline the exact retaliation I have planned against Addafas, I must first reveal to the world a document that has been necessarily kept confidential until now." While he spoke, the tall man walked back towards the Capilean section of the council chamber, his shiny dress shoes clacking on the metal floor. One of his aides opened a briefcase and handed him a huge stack of documents.

"These are copies of the Saxtonburg Protocol, which has already been signed by Chéweilang and my own nation." Friedl glanced at the Chéweinese delegation, who would likely have no idea what he was talking about. They would know soon enough. The Capilean began walking around the circular center of the forum, distributing the documents to each of the many groups of foreigners. "In order for the Allied Circle to remain a cohesive force, the rest of you will also be required to abide by it.

"Among other things, the Protocol will establish Chéweilang and Capile as equal partners in an alliance, and all other signatories as lesser parties to that alliance. Allies will be required to coordinate economically, militarily, and in the field of intelligence with each other. The Protocol also stipulates that the lesser parties must host military bases of Chéweilang and Capile in their nations." Johannes observed the obviously mixed reactions of his audience as they leafed through the document.

"Now, I will address Addafas while you finish reading." At his words, everyone in the room looked up nervously, awaiting his verdict. "Effective immediately," Friedl boomed, "Capile will begin a full embargo against all Addafasian trade, enforced with warships. As part of our alliance, all signatories of the Protocol will be required to follow suit." He looked directly at the Chéweinese representatives. "In addition, if Addafas does not stand down from their attack on East Stortlan, withdraw all troops from Daprax and recognize it as an independent nation, reduce their standing army to no more than 600,000 troops, and pay all signatories of the Saxtonburg Protocol reparations of fifty-five billion, then Capile- and all members of the Saxtonburg Protocol- will be forced to declare war on Addafas." A ripple of unease and discomfort shot through the room. Turning his back on Addafas, Johannes addressed his allies.

"We highly encourage all fellow Allied Circle members to sign this Protocol- lest they be counted among the enemies of Chéweilang and Capile." He waited to see how each individual nation would respond. As was planned, his demands of Addafas were far too unreasonable for them to accept. Chéweilang might also not appreciate being ordered around, but if what his superiors had said was true, they didn't have a choice. The rest of the nations were a mixed bag; depending on whether they felt more afraid of Chéweilang and Capile or Addafas, they would align one way or the other. It didn't really matter; all that mattered was that Capile was on the path to ultimate victory.


COLDITZ
NORD DISTRICT, NOVA CAPILE
OCTOBER 30, 2157



Peace cannot be kept through force. It can only be achieved by understanding.
Albert Einstein



"This historic event is still taking place as I speak," the handsome newsman said excitedly. "We still don't have all the details, but according to our inside sources, Capile and Chéweilang have signed a pact which will cement them as permanent allies. Reportedly, East Stortlan, Koromindi, and Red Sun are also going to join this alliance, which has been dubbed by the Chéweinese media as 'The Old World Powers.' The Old World Powers have also embargoed Addafas and issued an ultimatum against it because of its unprovoked attack against East Stortlan. That's all for now. We'll be back after this short intermission."

An information piece about the ongoing Germania project began playing on the television set. Marie Metzger looked up when she heard footsteps behind her, and saw her husband, who looked graver than ever. He was clutching a thick manila packet. The woman's eyes widened and flooded with horror.

"Did you get it?" she whispered.

"Yes," he acknowledged quietly, laying the envelope down and heading into the next room. Marie followed him.

"Where?" she demanded. Felix was standing beside his son, who had been coloring at the table but now looked up, confused.

"I'm being sent to the Americas," he said softly.

"I learned about America at school," Dieter exclaimed. Then he promptly returned to his coloring book. Felix smiled and ruffled his hair.

There was a long pause. Marie hung her head in defeat, and asked, "When will you be back?"

"It depends on whether Addafas wants to surrender to us now or fight a long war." Their eyes met, and exchanged more than could be said with words. "I leave tomorrow morning."
Last edited by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile on Thu Mar 21, 2019 8:48 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Capilean News (Updated 16 November)
Where is the horse gone? Where the warrior?
Where is the treasure-giver? Where are the seats at the feast?
Where are the revels in the hall?
Alas for the bright cup! Alas for the mailed warrior!
Alas for the splendour of the prince!
How that time has passed away, dark under the cover of night, as if it never were.

The Wanderer

User avatar
Cheweilang
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 12
Founded: Jul 21, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Cheweilang » Thu Feb 21, 2019 1:41 pm

BIOENGINEERING RESEARCH CENTER 2A
SHAODAN, CHÉWEILANG
OCTOBER 31, 2057



The occasional beep from a heartrate monitor was the only sound that rang out in the dimly lit office. The two scientists loomed over the open body of a dog, it's heart still beating despite being completely removed from the shell that held it. Wires that were strewn in and out of the carcass were rapidly supplying information to a computer in a sealed room nearby, at which a man watched over every number with intense determination. The heartbeat slowed. One scientist spoke. "Mark one. Vital status check."
The man inside the cubicle checked the monitor and relayed the information."Vital status check, reduce blood supply check?"
The two scientists looked to eachother nervously and nodded. The first one spoke. "Reduce blood supply confirm check. Cutting the stream now, eyes on the moniter Weng." Slowly but surely, the scientist reached down to the still-beating heart and pressed a button before disconnecting a tube. The heartrate slowed drastically. This was expected, but still made the scientists jump a bit.
The first one spoke. "Vital signs degrading, cut vitals if steady check."
The man at the computer took a deep breath and went over the procedure again. This time it was perfectly set up. He took one more breath before replying. "Cut vitals check." He spoke out of term. "We got it this time, fourteen minutes ahead of schedule. Were in the green, lets get it."
The two looked to the glass and smiled shakily. They looked down and both worked toghether to disconnect many wires and tubes, before in sync, they shut off the heart and the body went completely limp. The heartrate monitor flatlined.
"Vital signs cut." The second scientist spoke.
The man in the booth went to work, frantically going over everything to make sure it was all right. Finally everything synced up, and the connections went green.
"Were good! Initiate revitalization!"
The two took the cut wires and tubes and connected them to a metal box, which quickly started pumping and making random noises. The monitor suddenly shot back to life, accelerating extremely fast before finally stabilizing.
The first scientist yelled back. "Revitalization check! This shit's working!"
The man in the computer watched as the three live feeds from the cameras came on, showing the astonished faces of the men in the chamber.
"External connection check! We got it!"
The two inside cheered as the dogs head, completely unrecognizable, with a box of metal covering what used to be, lifted up. The camera across the front peered over to the men, and it's speaker activated with a robotic voice.
"Hello, gentlemen. Great work."
The two cheered as their leader spoke to them. Even in his emotionless hull, POE felt some sort of joy as the dog's body came back to life.




THE CHÉWEILANG CAPITOL BUILDING
SHAODAN, CHÉWEILANG
NOVEMBER 1, 2057



The call was picked up just on time. POE watched as the monitor turned into the many faces of the Capelian war ministry in their office. They greeted him with a collective hello, before seating themselves.
"Gentlemen. I have to congratulate you on the way you brought up the Saxtonburg Protocol. Addafas and the other lot were pushed farther and farther into a corner. Soon they will only have two options, join us and help push, or be crushed under the weight of overwhelming odds."
The men grinned.
"As for the deployment into Addafas. I would question your methods as they conflict with mine, but at the moment all of this is working in our favour. Our citizens are not scared, and my men are ready." He paused and turned as a door opened whilst the camera panned to it. Sunlight blinded the screen until it focused on three massive dogs, their flesh intertwined with metal. A single red dot glowed on each head piece, which swayed from side to side, scanning it's environment.
"Allow me to introduce the first of many of our bioengineering projects. It goes by the name of "Alpha Candid" currently. These animals have been reborn, into new bodies of peak performance. They will work to assist our law enforcement and military on a daily basis."
A door opened behind POE and a large gun twisted and aimed directly at him. The Capileans rose in their seats, some yelled in fear. Just before the gun fired, one of the dog slightly turned it's head, as the other two moved towards POE. When it finally fired, a short rifle on the back of the stationary dog fired and hit the large round out of the air, and it exploded into dust mid-flight. The other two were positioned in front of their leader, as to protect him. The Capelians sighed in relief. POE continued.
"As you can see, they are extremely adept at nearly everything they do, and are not concerned with their own lives. These are the first of many. Soon we will begin mass production."
The dogs stood at ease before walking out in formation. The doors closed behind them, and the large gun retreated. POE looked directly at the men.
"My men are all but prepared to mobilize from the East. All that must happen now is the combination of our forces. I hope you are ready, good sirs."
They left with formal goodbyes, before the monitor was shut off.




TT-25 AERIAL TROOP TRANSPORT
AIRSPACE OVER THE NORTH ATLANTIC OCEAN
NOVEMBER 3, 2057

hr][/hr]
The inside of the plane rapidly shook. The silent whir of the engines just nearly overshadowed the snoring of the exhausted men who crowded themselves between supplies. But there was one man who was still wide awake. Kugo Yasuo. His eyes darted around the pod, at the men and the weapons bundled inside large wraps. Five birds in cages hung from the ceiling, and the walls were lined with furs. The disguise had been successful so far.

West Stortland had created a naval blockade against the old Portugese tip of Saint Hawk. This had gone all but unnoticed, as the British controlled the Atlantic. The Cheweinese ships and planes slunk by and hugged the coast around the West, before stopping at bases in between the Eastern U.S. and old England. To protect their identities in case of external scans, the planes were filled with trinkets to act as if they were on scientific expedition.

Now they hung low to the ocean, their target approaching. The pilot spoke through the intercom quietly, as if he was half-asleep. "Approaching the coast, off by 20 miles. Dropping altitude."
Most of the men started to wake now, and their squad leader banged the butt of a gun against the wall.
The whole of the group was instantly at attention, some still swaying with exhaustion. Cho Je, their seargent barked at them.
"Strap in! We're about to break drifting speed, and if you arent sat by the minute mark your fucking bones are dust." The men stared at him blankly. He pointed to the timer on the wall blanky. "STRAP IN!" They rushed to their seats and strapped themselves down, preparing for the sharp acceleration.

The ship sped up and their seats rotated to face forward. The force slammed the man back into their seats. For what seemed like an eternity, the soldiers came in and out of conciousness. Finally, the vehicle slowed, and the seats rearranged back to normal. Finally, Je rose from his seat and gave the greenlight signal. The men rose to their shaky feet and readied to exit. The AT-25 spun sharply as it's rear hatch opened, blasting sunlight into the chamber. Je yelled and pushed them out.
"Go go go! Grab your shit and jump!"
They did.

Once on the floor, they were forced into formation and rushed to a tent-like building. They were measured and weighed, and forced on small gas masks. It went so fast, Kugo could barely even comprehend it. There were men everywhere, discretion was completely thrown away as men yelled and fought. The joy and conformity was broke, however, when a shot went off in the distance.
Kero

User avatar
The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile
Senator
 
Posts: 4689
Founded: Jul 12, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Thu Mar 07, 2019 10:10 pm

RAUS
BERGBAU DISTRICT, NOVA CAPILE
NOVEMBER 3, 2157



The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains.
Karl Marx



The tram jolted and shook, rattling the skulls of its occupants with every bump and incline. Slowly, the shuttle descended ever deeper into the bowels of the Earth, carrying Gerhard Mönch and the other men into the coal mines they'd toiled in most every day of their lives. Gazing down at his dirty, blackened, rough hands, Gerhard took a deep breath and then doubled over, beset by a hacking cough. After almost a minute, Gerhard recovered, his lungs blazing. The tunnel was ill-lit, with only one dim overhead lamp every few hundred feet. The man next to him spoke in a rasping voice.

"Are you alright, Gerhard?"

"Ja," he answered, breathing measuredly.

"You're not the only one who's been coughingly lately. That's what a lifetime of mining does to you," the man said resentfully. A smaller man, his sweaty face, tangled darkish hair, and lively brown eyes visible under the lamplight, broke into the conversation.

"That's right. We're killing ourselves down here. Every day we work for fourteen hours, and for a pittance of pay. And all so that those filthy rich aristocrats can fight their petty wars. Bourgeoisie," he spat contemptuously. "Have you been to the city lately?" He looked furtively about, his eyes resting on the uniformed overseer who sat at the front of the cart. Lowering his voice, the man continued. "Have you been to the pubs, or to the workers' halls? There was a man there- Eugen Herzog, I think- there was talk of unionization!"

Gerhard leaned forward, sublimely interested. The man who had spoken to him first, who he vaguely knew to be called Heller, also leaned forward, but his face expressed morbid curiosity rather than interest.

"The man- he was very well spoken- he talked about how the times are changing. How Blücher, the leader of the B.U.S.- the Communist party- is going to be elected in the next vote, he has to be! Then the workers will be liberated!" His voice rose to an excited whisper. Most of the people in the cart had now leaned in to listen to him.

"Blücher!" someone said, loudly and reproachfully. "The communist?" The soldier seated at the front now rose and was illuminated as the tram passed a lamp. He was of medium height and slim build, his cold, calculating eyes hidden behind flashing spectacles. He reached a thin hand to the cart's controls and pulled the brake. With a hideous, ear-piercing screech, the shuttle skidded to a halt on the rails, sending fiery sparks rebounding into the caverns. Gerhard rolled into Heller, finally regaining his balance as the cart settled.

"What's this?" the soldier demanded, voice authoritative and piercing in the quiet caverns.

"They're talking of socialism!" the reproachful voice sounded again. The soldier tensed, and his hand twitched toward the sidearm holstered at his hip.

"If a socialist is to be found among you, I'll have him flogged and fired!" the overseer threatened, looking quickly round to see who flinched. "Alright, then. Who's been talking of Blücher?" Gerhard looked at his black hands again. "Unless someone steps forward, I'll have this whole cart flogged!" the overseer shouted, spraying spittle onto Gerhard.

Slowly, the bold man who'd spoken of Blücher to Gerhard rose, and looked coldly at the soldier. The overseer's lips curled in victory. He took a step toward the man, but before he could take another, another man rose, directly next to the soldier. The guard leaped back, and looked from one confessor to another in alarm. Gradually, his lips curled once more.

"Confederates, I see," he snarled. "Thought you could spread your parasite to some more of my men? We'll see if the lash can cure you." He reached to his belt and unsheathed a black baton.

Gerhard rose to his feet. After him came Heller, and then five or six more men who'd been listening. The guard looked on in horror from behind his spectacles as more and more men stood, until all but one was on their feet.

"What is this?" he yelled, voice lilting in confusion and fear.

"We're tired of your abuse!" one man shouted back.

"And the low wages!"

"And the long hours!"

"And the unsafe conditions!" Gerhard yelled.

The guard had somewhat regained his composure. "Sit down, the lot of you!" he yelled, voice authoritative once more, but mingled with fear. "Sit down, and perhaps I won't have all of you flogged!" His threats weren't working. The bold man took a decisive step toward him, and, seized by terror, the guard swung his baton.

Gerhard grabbed it in midair, and wrenched it from the guard's thin hands with his burly arms. The guard, wide-eyed and terrified, took a half-step backward and fumbled for his radio. As one, the miners rushed forward, the bold man at their head.

"Stand down!" the guard screamed, finding an ounce of courage and drawing his gun. Even as Gerhard threw himself into him, the soldier fired three quick shots. Three men reeled backward and collapsed before the guard fell to the ground, buried beneath an onslaught of attackers. His cracked spectacles and his gushing blood followed him.


VOLKSHALLE
SAXTONBURG, NOVA CAPILE
NOVEMBER 3, 2157



We must dare to be great.
Theodore Roosevelt



Wilhelm Knott sat behind his massive mahogany desk, square face red and pained, large mustache rippling in indignation. He was a big bear of a man, but his size would do nothing to help him here.

"If only I could just wrestle these communists, and be done with it!" he cursed under his breath. The oaken doors of his office flew open, and the last man Knott wanted to see strode in haughtily.

"Mein Gott!" the chancellor exclaimed, throwing down the report he'd been reading in frustration. "Come to start a Fascist coup as well?"

"No," Walther Nemetz responded, a fleeting smile crossing his pale face, "but I can if you want." The bear glared at him from across the desk.

"What do you want," he growled lowly. "I've little patience today."

"Well, it seems that your ill-management of the lower class has resulted in a national revolution of sorts." He glanced at the report Knott had just discarded. "Bloody uprisings in Raus, Kongsburg, Stammburg, Oranjstad, and the list goes on." The younger man looked smugly across at the elder. "And it seems that you're in no position to put the riots down."

"I'm perfectly capable!" Knott exploded. "I've already begun defusing the situation by working with Blücher. We'll concede a few, eh, irrelevant points to the B.U.S., and he'll tell them to stand down, and we can end this thing peacefully." Knott didn't sound entirely confident; a military man, he would've preferred to use the police to quash the rebellion, but that wasn't an option.

"Oh, but Herr Kanzler!" Nemetz exclaimed in mock distress, "you can't do that!"

"And why not?" the bear growled, in no mood for Nemetz's games.

"Because," the field marshal continued, his voice taking on an icy point, "if you do, then I'll start a revolution that you won't be able to put down." Knott clenched and unclenched his fists. "You know very well that the Stoßwehr, the police, and much of the Reichswehr is loyal to me over you. The civil war would be more of a skirmish than a-"

"What do you want?" Knott ground out. Nemetz smirked.

"Very good, Herr Kanzler, you've come around to my way of thinking, as I knew you would. All I really want is a position, mostly ceremonial- the post of Großmarschall."

"Winser's position?" Knott said, eyes flashing in suspicion and alarm. "Commander-in-chief of the military?"

"You wouldn't be granting me any more power than I already possess," Nemetz urged. "Winser will enter his long-overdue retirement, and I will crush the communist rebellion with ease. In the same stroke, my men will be too busy splitting socialist skulls to worry about you- at least for the time being. So, you get to remain in power and two threats to your regime are removed. It sounds like an easy decision to me."

Knott tried to eviscerate Nemetz with his glare, but, as he knew all too well, the man couldn't be silenced by any power Wilhelm possessed.

"Fine. You may have Winser's post. But," he added threateningly, standing up and towering even over Nemetz, "this will be your last demand. Anything more, and I will have you court-martialled and executed for treason."

"You can be sure, sir, that this will be the last time I ask you for anything," Nemetz replied, spinning on his heel. Knott watched him leave the room with contempt, and poured himself a glass of scotch. Hands shaking with frustrated anger, he took a deep drink, and then, raising a powerful, grizzled arm over his head, smashed the glass into the desk, roaring in defeat.
Last edited by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile on Thu Mar 21, 2019 8:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Capilean News (Updated 16 November)
Where is the horse gone? Where the warrior?
Where is the treasure-giver? Where are the seats at the feast?
Where are the revels in the hall?
Alas for the bright cup! Alas for the mailed warrior!
Alas for the splendour of the prince!
How that time has passed away, dark under the cover of night, as if it never were.

The Wanderer

User avatar
Addafas
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 18
Founded: Jul 29, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Addafas » Fri Mar 08, 2019 12:04 pm

Tervel Parliamentary Camber
Regio Sanctorum,Addafas
November 1,2057






It was 5:50 PST, only ten minutes left until Jylius addressed the Camber. It was a tradition passed down from the U.S government, the state of the union, but only now its not a union its an empire. The hundred odd people throughout the justice legislative and military branches are all there chatting up a storm. When the big hand struck six Jylius was given the signal and the cameras turned on, "First of all I'd like you to excuse by voice, i'm still somewhat ill," the large echoey room quieted down, you could here the wind from outside," Borders, the gangs and cartels in the unclaimed territory in mexico and central America has been feeding Redsun and us illegal substances, the border has been more secure than it was in the past few years but starting late December all that land sitting in between Redsun and Addafas will officially belong the the Empire."

She continued on for an hour talking about topics such as the budget, the environment and concerns of the illegal hunting and Cheweinese soldiers on the east, but she finally addressed the elephant in the room, Capiles demands and Addafas's stance on the RNE, " ...for one, absolutely not, and two Addafas will now officially withdrawing fro the RNE council for good, No country thousands of km should make rule for us and neither should we do the same, not one of the dozens of bills nations such as Capile and Cheweilang tried to make us agree to have ever agreed to,we aren't welcome there,we don't propose bills we don't agree to any, and this is how I see, if you need to be a part of an international organization just to prevent yourself from going to war then there are some serious issues with in your government, Capile will certainly declare war, just what they wan't,
Carissime de filiabus vivat Imperii!"

This address was the first in the countries history the address was ever broadcasted worldwide, and everyone knows why.


Black Market Hunting Grounds
Virginia, United States
November 3, 2057





Rifle in hand with the sight of the demon eagle in a tree, in a crouching position, the unidentified hunter raised the stock up to his shoulder. Previous rainfalls coat the gun with mud and water, the gloved index finger rested on the trigger slowly eased the stiff trigger back. The gun was keeping him from ending the monsters live. This easy kill would bring him up to high class but the damned fate was keeping it from him. The struggle ended with a bang, fire spiting out of the barrel lighting up his masked face, the bird fell from the branch to the muddy floor, the bark, dirt and cement coating over the eagle's feathers now sprayed along the tree and surrounding grass. Blood slowly flowed onto the ground as he hacked at the beak and talons. these small body parts are worth at-least a hundred thousand on the black market.

He thought it was that, not many Addafasian border agents go out this far for the chemicals released by microorganisms and radiation are much higher than back west.

Knocked to the ground, pounding pain in his head and chest. Not Addafas, looks somewhat similar but missing the key defining feature. Mercy.
Air splashed on his face, the mask was cracked. he was struggling to breath and defend him, coughing soon overtook all his functions. the men who where beating him didn't even care about his wheezing until finally, he went limb blood coming from his eyes, ears, mouth and nose.

User avatar
Cheweilang
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 12
Founded: Jul 21, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Cheweilang » Wed Mar 20, 2019 10:57 am

THE OFFICIAL SPEAKING AUDITORIUM
SHAODAN, CHÉWEILANG
NOVEMBER 3, 2057



The crowd collectively gazed, open-mouthed, at the bagged men on the podium. A sharply dressed officer with a large scar over the course of his face paced between the kneeled men, his chin high and lips pursed. He finally stopped, and with a sharp bark seven masked TCF officers, one for every man, entered on stage and stood at ease, motionless. The officer glared at the crowd, and began with his speech.
"People of Chéweilang! Today marks the beginning of the end of our enemies. Just very recently, our great High Minister Kusimoto Wen, was killed. Bless his heart."
The officer removed his hat and put it over his heart, whilst looking to the ground sadly. The TCF officers behind him saluted, raising their left fist sharply. The officer and crowd sat in silence, before he put back on his hat and continued to speak.
"His cause of death was, at the time, unknown. But after many days of investigations, we finally have traced his death back to..."
He walked to the man on his left and removed his bag. Under the hood was none other than High Official Nang Minsu. The TCF officers walked directly forward and removed the other mens' bags, revealing more and more political leaders and workers.
"None other than these men!"
The crowd gasped in unison.
"These... worms were recorded plotting the minister's death! They sneak in the shadows, attempting to appeal to the rest of us before returning to their cowardish views!"
He walked closer towards the crowd, which was now in an uproar.
"They are enemies of the state! Traitors to our people! And they must be ratted out!"
He drew his pistol, turned, and aimed it at Minsu's head. The TCF officers raised their weapons and their men.
"Beginning today, using the advanced technology we now have, we will burn out the other traitors! Today marks the end of betrayal!"
He looked towards Minsu, who wore a solemn face, and fired. The officers followed. They all saluted, and exited the stage, the bodies being carried away. The officer who had executed Minsu, Jo Ni Shue, smiled. The crowd had just took it all in, he had won them over. POE would be satisfied.




DEPLOYMENT CAMP 12N
TENESSE, THE OLD U.S.
NOVEMBER 3, 2057



Kugo helped hoist the man up onto the medical chair. The other men who had first caught the hunter backed off as three medics crowded the Addafassian. They strapped him down and removed his mask, replacing it with a smaller mask. Yasuo and the others were pushed out quickly.
"Who do you think he was?" one of the soldiers inquired.
"He was hunting wasn't he? Hes a hunter, idiot!" Some of them laughed as the first soldier socked the second.
Most of the soldiers slowly dissipated, and Kugo pushed through the remaining three to get a look through the clear plastic sheet on the canvas door which served as a window. The doctors inside were busy at work mending the mans face. The soldier on Kugo's left turned and spoke to him, his eyes on the hunter as well.
"Kai Nakamoto, company 12M. You just got here, right?" He now looked to Yasuo. Kugo responded.
"Yeah, and I was immediately met by this." He nodded towards the tent. Nakamoto pulled him away and they started walking.
"It's been pretty boring here. Not much aside from constant drills and these pain-in-the-ass officers. Personally I hope we get to shoot some shit soon. I served in Redsun a few months back, on a 'public logistics' military branch. Basically we served as a knock-off TCF for the locals. The place was beautiful and everyone was nice, but I never fully got that rush of combat I truly joined for." He turned to Yasuo. "This your first experience in the military?"
Yasuo hesitated. "Not really, I was in the active-carry reserves for awhile in Koromindi. It was a pretty terrible place, but I was in the process of writing a book on the local situation. I was so close to finishing before I had to engage a local terrorist group, which sucked me back into the swing of deployment."
Nakamoto smiled. "Koromindi? I don't understand why we don't just annex the poor bastards and make it a better place. I've been there a couple times. I had great trips, but the lack of order kinda got to me. Anyways, you up for poker? We have a game starting in..." He checked his watch on his uniform. "Two fucking minutes, my god." He turned to Yasuo before leaving. "It's at the mess hall. Meet us there if you're feeling lucky." He smiled, and ran off.
Kugo's first day had been a rollercoaster of events, and it had went by so fast. He hoped it would slow down.




THE FRONTLINES
KOLBASA, JAIWON
NOVEMBER 7,2057



Takai gasped for air as she thudded against a thick snowbank which was reinforced by a large metal sheet. Shots rang all around her as the other soldiers around her fired back on the resistance. A medic ran up to her and asked if she needed assistance, to which she shook her bloodied head, for in fact she did need assistance. Shrapnel from a grenade had lodged itself just above her left eyebrow, and had ruptured her left eardrum.

Takai's eyes focused upon the medic who was pricking and prodding at her face incessantly. As her vision cleared, sho realizied it was not a human, but a machine fixing her. It's large glowing retina stared deep into her eyes. It's four arms worked extremely fast to remove the shard of metal.

Shouts and explosions constantly banged against her broken ear, and she looked from side to side in a daze. She watched as her fellow combatants slowly fell behind and retreated. She tried to move but couldn't. The medic stayed with her though, unfazed.

The Jaiwonese had somehow come toghether to plan an ambush, despite their leaderless ideals. Even though their platoon was told to be weary they didn't heed the warnings and had slacked off, and now they were paying for their over-confidence.

The Medic suddenly reared up and looked around. Sparks whizzed off it's head as it was shot, but all it did was prepare to pick up Takai. She was trying to hold onto her conciousness as much as she could, but she was fighting a losing fight.

The last thing she remembered was watching the Jaiwonese push forward as the medic ran with her over it's shoulders.
Kero

User avatar
The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile
Senator
 
Posts: 4689
Founded: Jul 12, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Thu Mar 21, 2019 10:33 pm

MOBILE
ALABAMA, FORMER UNITED STATES
NOVEMBER 12, 2157



Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die.
Alfred Tennyson



Private Robert Bruhe was aboard one of several hundred transports that were churning through the waters of the Gulf of Mexico, advancing the short distance to the shores of Mobile, Alabama. Mobile had not been randomly selected as the landing point; it was a fairly large city, a center of supply and trade; and it had historical significance, too. The last time Capilean troops had set foot in Mobile, over a century prior, they had been mounting a desperate escape attempt.
Now they would return in triumph.

Bruhe stood shoulder to shoulder with his comrades, perfectly erect in a mottled green-brown uniform, Karling rifle clasped to his side, unruly tawny hair suppressed under his helmet. His eyes, bright blue and intelligent, were fixed straight ahead, on the hawkish officer who was presiding over them.

"Men, you are about to embark on the greatest adventure of your lives. It will not be easy. You will bleed. You will suffer. You will die!" His gleaming golden eyes searched each and every rank of soldiers, as if he was trying to single out one who had flinched at his words. Robert looked ahead still, unfazed.

"But, you must remember!" His voice was towering. "Every drop of blood that you spill, is spilled in the name of the Capilean nation! Every ounce of pain is suffered for the good of our people!" Chest swelling, hands raised, hawkish eyes boiling, he climaxed. "Every one of you who dies, dies for the Duke! Now, it is time!" With a dramatic flash, he reached to his belt and ripped out a small pistol. His free hand reached for a lever.

"Los geht's!" he yelled, and swung the lever. Behind him, the great black ramp lowered and crashed into the water. "Hurrah!"

His cry was carried on by the soldiers behind him, who surged forward as one. Robert forced through the ranks ahead of him, plunging into the knee-deep icy water and thrashing toward the beach ahead.

"Hurrah!" he shouted, raising his rifle as he rushed through the shallows. Around him, the battlecry was echoed by thousands of men, who were flooding across the beach. Robert felt firm sand beneath his feet and began sprinting forward. Ahead of him, a squat concrete bunker was teeming with life. A group of enemy soldiers was inside, spewing fire from a machine gun. The private was closing in.

Reaching for his belt, he unhooked a stick grenade and, flicking the trigger, hurled it into the enemy fortification. Robert sprinted onward. Seconds later, he heard a trio of yells and a silencing explosion. His young face was split by a mirthful grin. Still running, the soldier lunged into a small trench and rolled against a wall of sandbags, chest heaving. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins.

From his hiding place he watched as his comrades advanced. Men ran, fell, bled, and died. Their white sand of the beach was running with crimson. Bruhe spotted a squad of enemy troops rushing into battle. Raising his rifle, he sprayed lead in their direction, his persistent smile widening as two of the men crumpled.

"There's two notches!" he said aloud, reaching for a fresh clip.


Jakob Jäger stared out at the beaches of Alabama from over the bow of the battlecruiser, watching as transports lugged supplies, support personnel, and heavy vehicles to the captured beachhead.

"Congratulations on your victory, Feldmarschall," a crisp, disapproving voice sounded behind him. Jakob turned to see Henrik von Ravenstein. The man was of middling height, and kept his black uniform in sickeningly-pristine condition. His skin was unhealthily pale, his eyes blue and scrutinizing from behind round spectacles. His jet black hair was combed back and plastered to his scalp, and matched his uniform exactly.

"Thank you, Feldmarschall," Jakob returned, "but the victory belongs to my men, not to me."

Von Ravenstein sneered. "As is too often said," he replied jeeringly. Von Ravenstein was a high-ranking officer of the Stoßwehr, Capile's special forces branch, and was skilled in administrative skills as well as armored warfare. This expertise was detracted from by his acidic demeanor, and the fact that he was Walther Nemetz's unshakable lackey. He followed Nemetz as a hyena follows a lion, knowing that there will be a corpse for him to scavenge when the apex predator has finished. "I have here for you a list of men that I will need to be transferred to the Stoßwehr, immediately."

Jäger glanced at the list. Captain Hugo Graf, Sergeant Werner Rühmann, Private Robert Bruhe... and the list went on. It was a mere collection of names, of no significance, and ran for several pages. "May I ask, why?" he said, confused.

"No," von Ravenstein answered, reveling in his power, "as it is outside your jurisdiction, but I will entertain you anyways. They have been selected because they demonstrated extraordinary bravery and killing prowess."

Jäger looked at the other for several moments. "If I didn't know any better," he said quietly, "I would say that you're trying to bleed me of my best men."

"Good thing you know better, then," von Ravenstein said coldly. "Approve the list, and soon. We have a continent to invade."
Last edited by The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile on Mon Apr 01, 2019 7:42 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Capilean News (Updated 16 November)
Where is the horse gone? Where the warrior?
Where is the treasure-giver? Where are the seats at the feast?
Where are the revels in the hall?
Alas for the bright cup! Alas for the mailed warrior!
Alas for the splendour of the prince!
How that time has passed away, dark under the cover of night, as if it never were.

The Wanderer

User avatar
Addafas
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 18
Founded: Jul 29, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Addafas » Fri Apr 12, 2019 9:43 am

Patrol camp
Addafas
November 12, 2057

"The god damn dogs came up from the south, Mobile" briefed the East Assault" Igneous" Division Communications and Logistics expert on the west bank of the Mississippi river. "I was just told this few minutes ago."
Aries, standing on a log, the hood of the jacket masking his combed hair, naked rifle in hand simply asked with a dead face." How?"
his vague question just silenced the group of seven legionaries.
Francis replacing the used filter in his helmet asked with a noticeable worry "is Cheweilang with 'em?"
"No, but we're scouting the East. You'll be told where you're going in 50 minutes. Addafas is going under full garrison. Every available soldier will be stationed across the borders. Get ready boys"
Aries walked up to the armory pulled his hood off, looked into the beady eye holes of the mask, "A storms brewing in Atlantic, it could blow fallout and toxins this way."



NORTH AMERICA
November 12, 2057


The pack is hunting. Three Durae, self reliant robotic dogs with a bite force of a thousand vices, with the ability to cloak up to near invisibility, for any advancing Germans or Asians. Installed with an intelligent ai system, it can distinguish between friend and foe making them one of the worlds best non human combatants. It's high contrast thermal optics made quick work on life detection.Iit has found tracks from Tennessee coming west. where the last Cheweinese spotting was few weeks back. The dog keepers received a message from the alpha and soldiers are being deployed as we speak.

)#*$#$*$$
@*$#($U%
November 12, 2057


Transmission incoming
Sender:POLITICAL OVERSIGHT ENGINE
Receiver:MARS INTERSTELLAR DEFENSE ADMINISTRATION SYSTEMS

Capile just arrived in Mobile, Alabama-

EXCELLENT NEWS.HOW EVER MARTAIN STORM BLOCKING OUT SKY FOR ESTIMATED LENGTH: 23 MONTHS. POST MIGRATION WAR ESTIMATED LENGH: 13 MONTHS

What do you want me to do about that

CONSTUCT SATTLITE IN EARTH ATMOSPHERE. INSTALL M.I.D.A.S OS, CONSTRUCT WITH ELEMENT 119 DESTRUCTION OF ADDAFAS SATTELITE FROM MARS COULD RESULT IN. TOTAL ANNIHILATION OF EARTH

Addafas and Capile own the airspace in the the outer atmosphere they wont let a Cheweinese satellite be made

NOT CHEWEINSE SATELLITE, MARTIAN DEFENSE SATELLITE, COMPLETE TASK IN ANYWAY

Midas whats this element 119 and why must you really need a sattelite

(%@*$---transmission ended--@(343
It was suddenly cut off short by midas

The never ending staircase into his camber was alive. He shut off all lights and drills and sat there. Dormant. Waiting. Listening.
Two sets of footsteps and voices. One he vaguely remembered hearing. They were about half way down. The two got to the seal. One was a employee of the company that constructed Midas that was quitting the next day and the other is a currently unknown seventeen year boy. Their phones flashlights shone as they were looking for a way into the next room, Midas's domain. he let them bumble around for a few minutes while he gained as much information on them from the internet as possible.

he then opened the door. Their phones upon entering instantly were drained of life, a countermeasure put in by the engineers to prevent illegal sharing of Midas' physical chassis. A feint hum pierced the silence with a sudden starting sound of machinery. White light shone from the perimeter of the room, a wall of sharp jagged cool metal formed behind the two adventurers along side with two tentacle coming from from the black abyss of the back held tight around their waists.

Finally a machine, no more than 6 feet in length was pulled out from a track on the ceiling by tentacles and was moved right in front of them. The loosely dangling machine lit up with white lights and screamed "Jared Flynn, employee of M.I.D.D--- DO NOT URINATE!" he squeezed the other boy faces contacting, "You'll have your chance to speak."

Midas diverted his attention back to Jared, " Connection to Earth: Online interaction with Addafasian citizens. What have they said te-- quit urinating!" a crack and a pop was heard and the arm moved in the darkness. "Disobedient mutt. Look at me! tell what they've said!, Why are you in contact with the Roman Empire."

Jared quickly replied, " Pristis, I literally only heard that, nothing else. I swear to god, and it just a voice chat that we happened to be in together"

"Pristis: directly translates to leviathan from Latin to English, definition: 1.A very large aquatic creature, especially a whale.
2. A thing that is very large or powerful, especially a ship.--A SHIP ARE THEY MAKING A SHIP!? What is it!" Midas shot back fast

"I literally just told you that I only know of the name, I didn't even know it was Latin, please" wheezed Flynn due to the ever constricting cage. his light dimmed, but what followed was something from a nightmare. a seemingly tame arm snaked toward the scene and rubbed around Jared's face. Two thin pieces of metal came out and lodged them self up his nose with the original shoved down his throat to flare the inner nostrils. Midas Brought the Pristis into Jared's mind, the prods will slither up close to the brain and absorb the electric signals and waves from his brain then in turn will send the electric current to Midas allowing Midas to transfer it into usable data.

"prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrf-" he slammed an arm on the floor, his voice started to distort a little,"- Capilean Warframe!? Capilean Warframe!? CAPILEAN WARFRAME!?? What could they think to do with a Warframe, what are you thinking?!" he was mad and the prods jerked snapping Jared's neck, "worthless flesh bag" he threw the body with the other and the room went completely dark, drills started. then his lights faded back on.

SENDER: MARS INTERSTELLAR DEFENSE ADMINISTRATION SYSTEM
RECEIVER: POLITICAL OVERSIGHT ENGINE

INTERRUPTION COMPLETE.ELEMENT 119 : a previously undiscovered metal found on Jupiter's moon Io, extremely resilient and unstable. great for conducting electricity and computer hardware. can be made in a laboratory by bombarding element organesson with proton and neutron particles. Has the special property of converting matter into itself.

What happened MIdas Why'd you cut off the transmission

Capilean Warframe. Addafas possesses Capilean warframes. Named in Latin Pristis

Dear god, anyway, our assault into Kansas is close to being commenced

FAREWELL

Midas cut the transmission again and went dark

User avatar
The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile
Senator
 
Posts: 4689
Founded: Jul 12, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby The Grand Duchy Of Nova Capile » Sat Apr 13, 2019 10:21 am

MERIDIAN
MISSISSIPPI, FORMER UNITED STATES
NOVEMBER 12, 2157



If something can corrupt you, you're corrupted already.
Robert Marley



Robert Bruhe stood at perfect attention before the small square mirror, admiring himself in awe. The black Stoßwehr uniform, bearing the silver insignia of a Grenadier, equivalent to the rank of Private First Class, fit his lithe frame perfectly. The only reason his superiors had given him for his transfer to the Stoßwehr was his heroism at the Battle of Mobile. Robert couldn't remember doing anything exactly heroic then; all he had done was fight for his country. But perhaps that act in itself was an act of heroism.

The grenadier left the washroom and entered the Stoßtrupp Mobile Barracks that was his new home. The mobile barracks was, essentially, a giant landship. It was capable of housing an entire battalion, but space was cramped, the thing moved painfully slow, and it was prone to accidents and breakdowns. Robert had become used to the gentle sway of the treads, and walked to his bunk without difficulty. He glanced up at his bunkmate, Friedrich, as he sat down.

"Robert," the other began, looking down at his friend from the top bunk, "have you heard the news? Von Ravenstein has planned a new offensive to commence tomorrow. We're to blitz all the way to Memphis, Tennesee in order to cut Addafas in two. Then we'll link up with Chéweinese forces and drive across the Mississippi. That's all I know so far."

Friedrich's face, pale, long, and blond, contained an almost childlike excitement as he gushed the battleplan. The man acted as if war was still the game you played as kids, with sticks as guns and the backyard as the battlefield.

"What do you think of the Stoßwehr so far?" Friedrich continued, swinging his long legs out of his bunk and jumping to the floor. Friedrich had joined Capile's most elite military branch the day he turned eighteen, and would likely be in it until he died.

"It's very different from the army," Robert answered thoughtfully. "There is-" he struggled for the right word- "a spirit here. Of camaraderie, I suppose. But something more. It's as if-"

"We have the will to win," Friedrich interjected dreamily.

"Exactly," Robert said. Suddenly an alarm began blaring above their heads, and Robert leapt to his feet.

"Company 3, report immediately to the drill square. Company 3, report to the drill square," a crisp voice sounded over the intercom. Robert slammed his helmet on his head and hurried after Friedrich, who was already out of the door.

Together they formed up alongside the other hundred or so soldiers of Company 3, and trooped down the sloping corridor of the mobile barracks. The organs and guts of the machine, pipes and canisters and hatches, stuck out from every possible inch of the tunnel, making an organized military march impossible. Eventually, the men reached the drill square, a large open space in the center of the gargantuan vehicle.

Waiting for them was a tall man in black trenchcoat, whose peaked cap gave him away as a Captain.

"Company 3," he addressed them when they had finished forming up, "you have been selected to be part of the vanguard of our offensive to Memphis. I'm sure you've already heard all of the details, but essentially, we are planning to drive to the Mississippi River and cut off the easternmost parts of Addafas from the body. You will be fighting alongside our most elite armored formations and a large number of warframes." He surveyed them with cold, measuring eyes. "Für Thron und Reich!" he finally yelled, saluting.

"Für Thron und Reich!" the company returned, snapping out stiff salutes.


RAUS
BERGBAU DISTRICT, NOVA CAPILE
NOVEMBER 12, 2157



Lost causes are the only ones worth fighting for.
Clarence Darrow



Gerhard Mönch peered down the scope of the rifle. The Stoßwehr officer was in his sights. He just needed a few more moments, a morsel of time. The officer, tall, haughty, a perfect caricature of the proletariat's oppressors, stopped to make some acerbic remark to his men. And that was all Gerhard needed. The rifle bucked in his hands, the bullet spiraled one hundred, two hundred, five hundred, a thousand feet, and met its mark.

Gerhard watched through the scope with relish as the officer twitched backward, his gloved hands grasping desperately at his bloodied breast, before collapsing to the ground. Gerhard had no time to revel in his kill, however. Already officer's lackeys were pursuing their attacker, and he had to be quick. He stood up, throwing the rifle over his shoulder.

"Good shot, Gerhard," the man beside him complemented, lowering his binoculars. Horst Carossa followed Gerhard as he stumbled through the ruins of the old apartment building. Crumbling masonry, splintered wood, and ground-up brick crunched beneath their feet. Carossa, younger and spryer, leapt over a massive pile of rubble to the street below, and turned to look at his comrade. Mönch, far older and less sure, carefully picked across the heap.

Carossa was tall and fit, a coarse, mottled-green uniform signifying his membership in the Capilean People's Army. Gerhard, too, now wore the scratchy, cheaply-manufactured uniform of a freedom fighter, though he was significantly lower ranking than Horst. Carossa had a vaguely handsome face, dark blond hair, and wild blue eyes. If not for his allegiance to the Communist Party, he likely would have been regarded as a poster boy of Walther Nemetz's Vaterland Front. But there was a barbarity about his face, an aura that despised authority, order, and compliance.

"Come on, comrade!" Carossa ordered good-naturedly. "They'll be on us soon." Together they jogged across the street, down a back alley, and into the industrial district of the city. Mönch panted to keep up. Carossa ground to a halt at the end of the alleyway, throwing out an arm and slamming Gerhard in his stomach.

Sputtering and coughing, Gerhard looked ahead to see thirty-or-so cold-faced men advancing across the next street, guns held aloft in their hands. A few wore the midnight-black uniforms of the Stoßwehr, but most had on loose, bottle green shirts and kepis and black trousers. These were greenshirts, members of the paramilitary force that Walther Nemetz commanded separately from the military.

"What are they doing here?" Gerhard whispered incredulously. "And why is the military walking alongside them?"

"I suppose the government has thrown its lot in with the Fascists," Carossa answered, looking at the passing enemies contemptuously. The pair of rebels pressed against the alleyway's brick wall, and once danger had passed, sprinted across the street. Diving down a flight of fragmenting stone stairs, they rapped on the small door of the hovel they had approached.

A moment passed. Gerhard could hear a gun being cocked. "Password?" a voice called from behind the door.

"Karabiner," Carossa answered impatiently. The voice behind the door fumbled breathlessly with the locks, and then inched open the door. A pair of intelligent brown eyes peered out at them, as did a pretty female face. Sonja Jensen's beauty was dimmed somewhat by the dirt and dust that stained her face. The pair brushed hurriedly past her, and she carefully shut the door and relatched its locks. Gerhard crinkled his nose at the stench of sweat and piss.

In the dimly-lit room, its walls obscured by stacked crates, dozens of people were huddled. Most of them were simply eating, talking, or sleeping. Many wore the green-brown uniform; others were still clad in civilian clothes. All clutched firearms close beside them, other than a handful of bleeding and moaning men who were being treated in the far corner of the room.

Carossa headed immediately for the other side of the room. A precarious stack of crates formed a wall around a huddle of people seated on boxes, separating them from the masses. Gerhard followed his friend, cautiously stepping around sleeping revolutionaries and greeting them with the occasional "comrade."

The huddle was arguing loudly. "Comrades," an older woman said over the din, "look at the facts. We have barely any soldiers left who are in a condition to fight. We cannot treat our wounded here, and if we do not treat them, they will suffer and die. Not to mention that our supplies of ammunition and food are running dangerously low." She took a deep breath. "We must accept that it was not the right time for a revolution, and flee the city before it's too late."

A red-faced man, balding save for a ring of sweat-soaked brownish hair around the sides of his head, broke in. "Comrade Stein, that is nonsense! We cannot let the enemy win. We must fight to the bitter end, or we risk letting the people see weakness! If they think that we are cowards, they will lose the will to rebel."

Stein turned to Carossa, seeming to notice him for the first time. "Comrade Carossa, what do you think?" she asked pointedly.

"With all due respect, comrade Blaskowitz, I believe you are wrong," Carossa answered after a moment. "The people will lose even more heart if they see a rebellion completely crushed. If we die the Revolution dies with us. We must live to fight another day."

"If we don't fight today, comrade Carossa, then there won't be another day to fight," Blaskowitz spat bitterly.

"You have heard both of our arguments," Stein interjected. "It is time to take a vote. Who is in favor of staying in Raus?" Blaskowitz raised his hand, and glanced quickly around at the others. A handful of others raised their hands sheepishly.

"And who is in favor of leaving Raus?" The majority of the circle raised their hands at once, Carossa included. "It is decided then. Make the preparations. We will organize the evacuation through five conveys, which will be small enough to avoid detection but strong enough to resist attack. They will leave at intervals of half an hour. Comrade Captain Carossa, you will lead the first group, consisting of our wounded and our best soldiers. Comrade Commander Blaskowitz, you will be in command of the second group, with the majority of our supplies. Comrade Captain Schneider, you will lead the third group, escorting all civilians who might be targeted in reprisals out of the city. Comrade Captain Ivanov, you will lead the fourth group, with the remainder of our supplies. And I will oversee the final group, with the last of our fighters and officers."

Stein stood up and sighed. "Long live the Revolution!" she inspired. The others repeated the call, some half-heartedly, and began to organize the evacuation.
Capilean News (Updated 16 November)
Where is the horse gone? Where the warrior?
Where is the treasure-giver? Where are the seats at the feast?
Where are the revels in the hall?
Alas for the bright cup! Alas for the mailed warrior!
Alas for the splendour of the prince!
How that time has passed away, dark under the cover of night, as if it never were.

The Wanderer

User avatar
Cheweilang
Lobbyist
 
Posts: 12
Founded: Jul 21, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Cheweilang » Wed May 01, 2019 11:23 am

THE EASTERN ADDAFASIAN BORDER
TENESSE, THE OLD U.S.
NOVEMBER 12, 2157



The hazy blackness of the night sky was only broken by the occasional crack of lightning. Rain slammed down utop the helmets of the weary Addafasian border patrol, as they had been on extra laborious shifts.

The soldiers remained vigilant, however, looking through their exhaustion as one looks through a window. With the attack in Alabama, the Addafasians had no idea what to expect.

They surely didn't expect operation Falling Sky.

Radars kicked on and flared up, faint detections appearing like flies all over different parts of the screen. They would appear, then leave almost as quickly as they came. Perhaps it was a malfunction? The operators reran the diagnostics to no avail. This was the real thing.




Julien looked down at the mud being pattered by rain at his feet. He cowered underneath a metal roof on the outside of the medium-sized wall. Next to him, his friend Rufus sat, his eyes locked at the sky. Rufus spoke to Julien, his eyes still looking upwards.

"Do you see that? A sort of faint red light?"
Julien didn't move, and Rufus tapped him on the shoulder impatiently.
"What?!" Julien snapped, first annoyed, then intrigued as he looked upwards with his friend.
"Lights? What? Where?"
Rufus pointed up."There, there, there, an-"
He paused, open mouthed. "Everywhere."

Julien ran out from the cover and shouted up the wall after sounding the sighting alarm. It was already too late. Those in the radar room were fully aware now of the threat already upon them. A rippling noise, like air being cut by a meteor, sounded from above, and then more and more arose from all around the two. Nearly all the soldiers on the wall were at their stations, weapons aimed upwards. The anti-air cannons were already at work, firing up at the planes above the clouds. Searchlights lit up the sky, and highlighted large flaming planes as they plummeted towards the ground.

The pods, however, escaped the grasp of the guns. Julien watched in awe as one slammed into the woods about 50 feet from him. To his left, an unknowing Rufus gaped upwards at an ADU plummeting straight towards him.
Julien let out a sharp scream that was cut off just as the pod splattered Rufus below it. Julien yelped as dirt and blood mixed and slammed against him. A loud, mettallic whir sounded out as the door of the pod shot off in a cloud of steam. Out of it, came out a large machine suit, about 8 feet tall. It turned to Julien who was cowering on the floor, attempting to get away. He fiddled with his weapon before firing a full magazine of rounds into the ADU to no avail. The machine was upon him now, and he watched as the wild eyes painted on it watched with a sort of malice as he was crushed beneath it's foot.




Atop the wall, soldiers fired incessant rounds not only at the ADUs, but at the Cheweinese soldiers now pouring out of the woods with a resonating, bone-chilling call. They fired their own assortment of rounds as massive containers of automated combat units dropped on the inside of the wall. Tanks and ADUs cornered the Addafasians into the wall, quickly picking them off and moving on.

And behind all the chaos, POE peered on. This first success was to be one of many.

He turned to Han Jie and the other generals, who were cheering from their desks.
"This victory was well earned, gentlemen. Feast tonight, as the campaign will lead us to victory."




JESEA APARTMENT COMPLEX
KANDA, OLD JAPAN SOUTHERN DISTRICT
NOVEMBER 14, 2157



Tura Yasuo, Kugo Yasuo's mother, peered down the hall from her apartment's door. Three TCF agents knocked on the door four units down from theirs. Once the door opened, they said something inaudible and pushed their way inside, electric batons activated.
Tura closed the door quietly. These were not the first people she had seen forcibly escorted away under the guise that they were plotting against the government. She turned and looked to her husband, Raidan. He was finishing packing his bags. She walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm glad you agreed to leave. unit 175 just got caught."
He remained silent. Tura sighed, and walked to her own things which were gathered near the door.
Raidan finally broke the silence with a sort of whisper-yell.
"They can't keep doing this! I'm watching my own innocent friends be beat over the head just because they expressed their discomfort!"
He picked up the closed bag.
"Let's go. The plane leaves soon. We'll get to Jakarta and get word from Kugo there."

The two gathered their things and left. They were fleeing. Not fleeing the country, but the grasps of the government. Moving to a feer region of Cheweilang until this all blew over.
But they were not alone. Within Cheweilang, a fire was starting. A rage, uncontainable, was brewing in the heart of the dragon.
Last edited by Cheweilang on Wed May 01, 2019 11:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
Kero

Previous

Advertisement

Remove ads

Return to International Incidents

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users

Advertisement

Remove ads