Shattered Commonwealth: Fallen Morrdun (Semi-Open, Attn GD)

[Morrdh]

It was Whittleton's first visit to Stevid Capita, or even the Holy Empire, and it was certainly an awe-aspiring sight. He'd served just over two decades in the Royal Space Force, before going into politics and becoming the Morridane Minister of Space before events compelled him to the head of the Morridane government, though he never thought he would see something so impressive that was terrestrial in nature. Though Whittleton did sense some bitterness from his host, SIr Ruixus, but he didn't fault the man given recent relations between the Commonwealth and the Holy Empire but his host was still pleasant enough. Then they arrived at the heart of the Holy Empire; the Citadel.

"Prime Minister," Whittleton smiled as Conroy's party him. "If I known I'd received this reception on me first visit I would've tried visiting sooner."

"Hopefully this is a step ferwards tawards a brighter future fer both our countries." Said Whittleton, getting serious. "I wasn't privy ta government policy under Vermillion, though I wish I could've taken steps ta avoid the rift that developed 'tween us. Though wot is past is past and we still have a future ta look ferward ta."

Whittleton bid farewell to Sir Ruixus before following the Stevidian Prime Minister into the Citadel itself, though kept his thoughts about such an overt religious display to himself. The Commonwealth differed greatly from the Holy Empire when it came to matters of religions, for starters the Commonwealth practiced a Celtic based polytheism and recognised tens if not hundreds of deities. For a long time the Commonwealth also a less than favourable relation with the Catholic faith stemming from a civil war centuries earlier. Even to this day there remained bad blood and suspicion between the Commonwealth and the Catholics that resided within its borders.

"I'm sure Cosgrave will appreciate it." Answered Whittleton. "And I do believe the facilities will suffice."

"I will fill you in on as much as I know 'bouts Viktor, though Commonwealth Intelligence did have its suspicions regarding his activities going back over the previous decade. But I am in yer debt, though I suspect I shall be fer some time to come." Whittleton continued. "Alas, I am no spring chicken and tis been a eventful day....though I am curious 'bouts this carrier. Please, by all means make the call 'fore I must retire."

[Stevid]

An aide to the delegation tapped away on a laptop in the corner of the room. The once black conferencing screen behind Conroy winked into life, first green and then grey as a Stevidian flag with a superimposed crucifix appeared. After more furious typing and clicking through various applications, a conferencing call was set up with the HMS Consummate Will. The channel filtered through various command lines, reams of following text and digits before a box in the top right wink from ‘Official-Sensitive’ Red, to Secret and then Top Secret Green. A dial tone and then a static filled audio line established itself.

“This is Commander Daedalus, 2ic of the Consummate Will. I have you Prime Minister. Captain Gideon is aboard the Morridane carrier Enbarr together with together with ambassador Air Archibald Julii. We will establish a relay link to the carrier for communications… wait one…”

There was a buzz of heavy electronic static as the window on the screen where faces would appear blinked ‘Vox Transfer’. A few electronic clicks later and a fine, crisp image of the captain’s chambers on board the Enbarr was revealed to the room. Sat behind a desk was Captain Hannon of the Enbarr, Captain Gideon and Air Archie to the left and incredibly, much to the audible gasps in the room, Her Majesty Queen Lothwyn Cathmore.

“Well, well…” Said Conroy, “It seems our recent toast to your health, your Majesty, did not go unanswered. To see you safe is a monumental victory. As you can see, your Taoiseach is safe here in Stevid; to you all, plans are already afoot here to get control of the Morridane space assets before the Usurper does. What’s happening on your end?”

There were exchanges of words between Whittleton and the Queen, then a brief breakdown of the situation was given by Captain’s Hannon and Gideon. It was now evident that the Morridane command structure had been shattered and was now scattered, and a semblance of order was needed. The Queen was being conveyed to Lamoni whilst Whittleton was organising a counter move against Viktor in Stevid. The situation was not ideal, but between the two countries a reasonable and effective course of action would develop.

“Well regarding your transit south to Lamoni, you will eventually pass through South Greali areas of operation. We can dedicate a battlegroup to bolster your escort until Lamonian forces take over. Admiral?”

Admiral Halstead, Commander-in-Chief Fleet to the Admiralty and technically the third highest rank in the Navy behind the First and Deputy Sea Lords, began speaking. “The First Fleet, deployed to Stevidian South Greal, is still only at two fifths strength following the last regional war. Ships take a long time to build. However, the fleet is dispersed into task groups and the East Greali Interceptor Squadron and East Greali Monitors can be mustered to escort the Enbarr carrier group. Within a few days you can expect one fleet carrier, one light carrier, one battleship, three cruisers, and assorted escorts.”

“Your Majesty your survival is paramount.” Conroy began to finish. “Your very existence is a challenge to Viktor’s legitimacy. Safer we can keep you and the quicker you can get to Lamoni the better.”

[Morrdh]

HMMS Enbarr
Free Republic of Lamoni
A Few Days Later

There was toots of horns as tugboats gently moved the Ler-class aircraft carrier into her docking berth, crewmen on the edge of the carrier's flight deck observing and reporting on the vessel's position. Radio chatter went back and forth as the operation painstakingly advanced until the carrier was close enough for mooring lines to be thrown over towards the quayside. On the quayside itself laid the gangway ready to be put into position to enable people to disembark along with an honour guard of Lamonian marines.

Though nothing was being left to chance when it came to security.

After disembarking and meeting with Lamonian officials, Queen Lothwyn was to be taken to an estate called Dearborne Manor close to the Lamonian capital of Nephi. At the Manor, she was to be guarded by a mixed force of Lamonian and Morridane loyalists, though the soldiers would be paired up with a partner of the other nationality. Being close to the Lamonian capital it was hoped that there would be less risk of attack and allowed the Queen to be in close contact with Lamonian authorities. It also allowed the Queen to be attended to by some of the best healthcare professionals within the Free Republic.

There was the matter of Commonwealth Forces Lamoni, the Morridane military forces based in Lamoni. Her Majesty had hoped to use the CFL soldiers as the core of her loyalist army, especially as it contained recently returned Scand War veterans. Though there was still doubt over where the soldiers' loyalties laid, thus Lamonian intelligence vetted the men and interviewed the officers to determine this. It would probably take weeks to complete, but nobody was taking any chances.

---

In Orbit

Lt.Commander Sean Collins nudged the control stick over and made the Saighead (Arrow) F.2 spacefighter gently roll to one side, affording him a view of the clusters of land that made up Greater Dienstad far below. He could make out, though partially obscured by cloud, Krasnova where war was raging once more despite how tranquil it looked from the edge of space. The land far below barely looked like it was moving despite Collins knowing that he had a ground speed in excess of Mach 2. Slowly and surely ahead, western GD crept into view first with Greal, New Garrack, Castille, the Sea of Tranquillity. Then at last, dear old Morrdh. Home.

The sight of his homeland stirred up mixed emotions within him, the seeing the land of his birth for the first time in months and regretting that he must now take action against it. He wasn't alone for four other RSF spacefighters occupied him, all of them together about to undertake the same task with the same mix of emotions. Recent events had conspired to them to this awkward situation, a task none of them were happy with but each knew it had to be done.

"Banshee Lead to flight." Crackled the voice of the flight's leader over the radio. "Approaching target area, arm payload and prepare to release on my mark. Over."

There was a chorus of acknowledgements from the flight and Collins flipped some switches to arm the missile his craft was carrying, there was a beep from the onboard computer that the warhead was armed and ready. A moment later the computer confirmed that guidance data had been uploaded and the target co-ordinates locked-in. All there was left to do was push a button and away went the missile.

"Banshee Flight stand by to launch." Once again crackled the voice of the flight commander. "Five... Four... Three...Two... One... MARK!"

Collins pressed the firing stud on his control stick and the missile on the underneath of his craft was released a moment before its rocket motor kicked in. He could see the flames from its motor as the missile shot off ahead, along with the other missiles, before it began to descend down towards the ground far below. Four low yield tactical nuclear missiles were now rocketing down towards a spot in the desert wasteland of south-western Morrdh. It was a location known as Waremera, the RSF's main base and the Commonwealth's principle launch facility.

True, there were secondary sites, but taking out Waremera could cripple any space force who'd sided with the usurper King Viktor. Collins dreaded to think of just how many people they'd just condemned to die in a flash atomic fire as the first shots were fired in the conflict for control of the Commonwealth.

[The State of Monavia]

Ten years before Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Kenway Heights, Mórrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh
Northeastern Greater Díenstad

The Monavian state had ample reasons to interest itself in Morridane affairs long before Alfred Cathmore’s health deteriorated to the point of causing his inevitable decease. The Commonwealth’s geopolitical interests were entangled with those of several countries to which the Imperial Federation had allied itself, especially the People’s Unified Federation of Mokastana. Even without knowing how powerfully King Alfred’s death could affect the course of future events, Monavian diplomatic and intelligence personnel knew that they could predict some of this incident’s possible ramifications by carefully monitoring the circumstances under which the succession process moved forward. Few perceived this fact more keenly than Monavian diplomats stationed in the Commonwealth since the location of their posts ensured they would watch history unfold from a close vantage point.

This vantage point—to wit, the Monavian Chancery in Mórrdun—was architecturally similar to other diplomatic facilities that the Imperial Federation had established in foreign capitals. The building housing the Chancery’s offices was a stately neoclassical edifice characterized by a marble façade that rose four stories above street level and featured scalloped pilasters sandwiched between ranks of high rectangular windows. Gilded bronze ornaments adorned the balustrade that surrounded the building’s rooftop and the matching gatehouse that stood watch over the entrance to the grounds. Both the Chancery proper and the standalone parking structure behind it had rooftop helipads, and while neither experienced much traffic, their presence indicated to all but the most casual observers that this diplomatic facility was more than a mere consulate.

Not only was the Chancery more than a mere consulate, its role was not even exclusively diplomatic in a general sense. Like any other place in which the Imperial Federation domiciled its embassies and legations, the Chancery’s staff included officers of the Federal Intelligence Department operating under official cover as diplomatic personnel. Since the health of a reigning sovereign was the sort of subject that the embassy had obvious reasons to follow with interest, it did not take long for an intelligence officer working at the Chancery to inform the ambassador’s secretary that King Alfred’s illness had reached its fatal dénouement. In the same fateful hour when the Provost Council voted to install Lothwyn as queen, the mission’s press secretary issued an official bulletin that offered their condolences to the Morridane public while embassy staff telephoned officials in Chalcedon to share the news.

The ambassador in charge of this diplomatic mission was a career diplomat named Stefan Voltich who had been serving at this current post for a little over eleven months. He had been present in Mórrdun long enough to grow accustomed to the Commonwealth’s weather and acquainted with its political system, but not yet long enough to understand all of the country’s unique idiosyncrasies. At forty-four years of age he could expect to remain in service for at least another two decades unless he found a reason to retire earlier like some of his past colleagues, but he was too strongly interested in Morridane culture and attached to his current lifestyle to entertain such thoughts. Once the press release was finished, the only thing Voltich thought about was finishing the half-read newspaper he set aside earlier that day, so he retired to his office and tried to ignore the rain drumming against the Chancery’s windowpanes as he resumed reading. As the ambassador made his way through the business section, he came across a feature article about the initial public offering of a Morridane company that had recently begun trading its stock on several Díenstadi exchanges.

Voltich noted how his economic attaché highlighted several lines and wrote marginalia recommending that some of the embassy’s slush fund be invested in this firm’s stock, but the telephone on his desk rang before he could finish contemplating the merits of this proposal. Though momentarily frustrated by this interruption, Voltich’s mood instantly lightened once he noticed the caller ID screen read ENCRYPED NUMBER since he was expecting a call from an embassy staffer who he had tasked with keeping an eye on Canongate House.

“This is Ambassador Voltich speaking. How may I be of assistance?”

“Your Excellency, I am pleased to report that I have just seen a motorcade drive up near Canongate House.”

“Whose motorcade?”

“I believe it is Viktor Cathmore’s.”

“They’ve summoned him?”

“Affirmative, Your Excellency...that, or he’s paying a call unannounced.”

“Either way, I want to know what’s playing out there.”

“I can’t do much,” the voice on the other end of the line explained, “I can only see what’s happening in the front courtyard.”

“That will have to do, then. Call me when you learn more.”

“As you wish.”

Voltich had hardly waited at all before he received his next call. “Your Excellency,” the spy’s voice greeted him, “there’s been a new development.”

“Explain.”

“Prince Viktor is already leaving.”

“That quickly?” Voltich asked incredulously.

“He’s being escorted out.”

“Escorted out?”

“Affirmative.”

Voltich swore. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded. To the best of his knowledge, the Morridane legal system positioned Viktor to assume control of the throne, even if only as a temporary regent. If the building’s security staff were leading Viktor outside like a captured trespasser, then somebody had just forced him out of power, thus upsetting a once-predictable component of the Morridane political system. For Voltich, this meant that factors he previously took for granted (and advised his superiors to rely upon) were now fluid and thus mooted all of the predictions he based on the assumption that a regency would be established in the event of Alfred’s demise.

“I don’t know,” the spy conceded as he started to realize how hard Voltich was fuming. “Let me follow Viktor’s—”

“Negative. Inform your handler that we need eyes and ears on Viktor and have her detail someone. Your duty remains unchanged.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

In the hours that followed, Monavian intelligence officials scrambled to arrange for their assets to monitor Viktor Cathmore’s whereabouts. Their task was not terribly difficult while Viktor remained in the Commonwealth proper, but they encountered difficulty arranging solid cover for their assets to make the journey to Luna. By the time Monavian spies had a chance to journey there, Viktor was already gone and his presumed destination lay beyond the reach of his pursuers. Even if they could arrange passage to Gilbert, their quarry had enough resources to cover his tracks many times over and ensure that anyone who tried to follow him would face the futility of chasing a phantom. With Viktor out of the picture, Monavian officials changed course and discarded their old plans in favor of building a working relationship with Lothwyn’s new administration, all the while unaware that the Provost Council’s vote had sown the seeds of a bitter harvest.

---

Hours before Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Kenway Heights, Mórrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh
Northeastern Greater Díenstad

Silence reigned over the Chancery. The night staff were grateful for the lack of noise since the building had been anything but silent during festivities that consumed much of the previous evening, even if some of them secretly wished they had been invited to participate. Just a few hours before Viktor Cathmore’s forces commenced their assault, a dozen members of the Chancery’s staff attended a swanky birthday dinner honoring Jacob Gessen, a lawyer who served as the mission’s legal attaché. Ambassador Voltich served as the official host and delivered a brief speech praising Gessen’s character and service, then gave him a crystal decanter of extra añejo tequila that spent six years aging in an obscure Mokan distillery before it ever saw the inside of a bottle. Much like the liquors fueling the night’s mirth, Voltich’s character had gained new dimensions with age while mellowing over the course of his tenure as the Monavian ambassador to the Commonwealth. Some aspects of his personality remained unchanged, for he still made a point of reading at least two newspapers every day and taking Sunday afternoon walks around the city. Even though he remained sprightlier than the average man of his vintage, his sable hair now bore streaks of gray, as did his well-groomed beard and ever-so-slightly bushy eyebrows.

The scale of the feast and the formalities that naturally appeared in diplomatic life help ensure that the festivities ran well past midnight before they began winding down, but once it did, Voltich withdrew to his private suite and invited his chief security officer, Michael Dugan, to join him on the rooftop to enjoy a pair of cigars and some postprandial conversation over brandy. Captain Dugan was all of fifty years old—a few years younger than his superior—but the rigors of his twenty-one-year career in the Diplomatic Security Agency had aged him more harshly than he first imagined when he enlisted. In contrast to the lanky, oval-faced ambassador, Dugan had an athletic frame that completely filled the shoulders of his crimson uniform tunic and his goateed visage sported the features of a man descended from Morridane immigrants.

When the security chief arrived at the rooftop, he found Voltich standing near an electrical box where he had a pair of cigar tubes sitting next to a brandy bottle and some glasses. Dugan happily accepted the cigar Voltich proffered before settling into a conversation that meandered through half a dozen topics over the next hour. By the time either man noticed his cigar was burning low, the discussion shifted (ironically) to their smoking preferences. “Tell me Captain, have you ever tried Parthian cigars?” Voltich inquired.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve never seen them around here.”

“I don’t think there are many distributors for them in these parts, especially since there are many sources just south of us that can produce cigars of comparable quality.”

“So, they’re more difficult to get than they’re worth, given there are so many alternatives handy?”

“Yes, but then again, you’re not just paying for the size or the flavor, you’re paying for the label,” Voltich explained. “It’s like the Stevidian brandy we’re drinking right now—Morrdh has plenty of domestically available brandies that I like, but once I settle on a favorite brand, I like to stay loyal.”

“It’s a bit like politics,” Dugan remarked, “People prefer the familiar to the unfamiliar.”

“Yes. Stability keeps things predictable and easy to plan. You don’t have much of a future without it.”

“Exactly. People won’t build anything, grow anything, or invest in anything if they think they might lose it all.”

“Much like diplomacy. Countries don’t want their relationships to sour just as the ink on a treaty dries. They’re in it for the long haul, and when things go wrong, all the plans and committees and white papers in the world won’t fix a damn thing. All you’ve got left are the personal relationships you made with the other side’s diplomats and soon you’re stuck looking for some envoy you met at a gala somewhere and hoping he’s in the mood to let you make a case for your point of view when no one else will listen,” Voltich sighed ramblingly. It was late—very late—and both men felt the cold sapping their energy as their cigars grew short.

“I wish—sometimes, anyway—that that we could do diplomacy like we used to—less paperwork, less waiting for committees to approve your proposals, and fewer people giving you make-work projects to do when you’re already swamped,” Dugan griped. “I suppose that’s what you get when the minister comes from a legal background.”

“No, no, it’s not really her fault. I’ve met Laura Garmash; she’s thorough but efficient and right for the job. If she wasn’t, Carter and Borozan wouldn’t have made such a push to get her installed as their successor. It’s the process, not the people, we should blame more than anything. Some of the governments we negotiate with have too many cooks in the kitchen. They’ve got reams of process requirements to follow and the principals always want to run stuff through some committee or another before they make a decision. No matter how hard we work to keep things simple, you have people on your own side pushing their pet interests and approaching you with requests to put a word in about some thing or another, and the next thing you know, your treaty is bloated full of miscellaneous gobbledygook no one wants to read. Then, you have to pay a lawyer to read the thing for you and tell you what it means, and it ends up driving him to drink because it’s so convoluted and boring!” Voltich laughed.

“So that’s why lawyers drink so much? I’d hate to be stuck reading other peoples’ contracts for a living, unless it paid well. Say, that’s why lawyers charge so much money!”

“That, and all those dinners with clients can get expensive,” Voltich remarked as he watched the smoke he exhaled ascending into the hazy sky. “Speaking of dinners, we should host a banquet in honor of the queen after she gives birth. I’m sure there are plenty of officials who will put in a good word for our country if we invite them. Perhaps they might even talk the queen into making a state visit.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Dugan smiled, merrily puffing away the last of his cigar as the clouds drifted overhead. “Perhaps we’ll even have a cloudy sky like this if we want to show them some fireworks.”

✠✠✠✠

The Monavian government erected its chancery in a location close to a number of buildings where Viktor’s forces planted their bombs, so when the bombs finally detonated, the subterranean vibrations they unleashed were potent enough to rattle the Chancery’s occupants awake. When the first bomb detonated, the shockwaves rippling away from its location led some of the night staff to assume that an earthquake was occurring, so they ran outside in accordance with the building’s earthquake safety protocol. Subsequent explosions made short work of this assumption as they shook the Chancery’s other occupants awake, prompted the security staff to summon them back inside as civil defense sirens began wailing throughout the city. At this point, Dugan realized that the Chancery needed to be put under lockdown, so he picked up his radio and ordered the garrison to implement the lockdown protocols they rehearsed several time each year. Dugan also ordered his deputy, a seventeen-year DSA veteran named Norman Gorka, to lead the staff into the Chancery’s subbasement while he got back into uniform. When he finally emerged from his quarters to take command of the garrison, he asked for a status update on the ambassador, only to find out that Voltich was equally bullheaded about changing his clothes and was making his escort wait outside the door to his suite.

The Chancery’s lockdown protocol required the security staff to escort all embassy personnel into the building’s subbasement and begin activating emergency lines of communication as needed. Unlike its counterparts in countries that presented higher security risks, the Chancery lacked a fortified bunker underneath its subbasement, but the level was still sufficiently reinforced to double as a civil defense shelter and came equipped with an emergency command center, three secure communication booths, a spare conference room, and the Chancery’s armory and main document vault. Just three minutes after the sirens began sounding, Voltich finally joined the congregation of pajama-clad secretaries, attachés, cooks, janitors, and off-duty security staff that had assembled in the subbasement’s main hall. Several members of the embassy staff sat along the walls scrolling through their smartphones in search of online video feeds, only for the mobile networks to crash on them and leave their devices unable to provide much help. Others crammed themselves into a minimally furnished conference room to watch local news channels on its trio of wall-mounted TV screens.

Voltich and Dugan scrambled to set up shop at opposite ends of the command center with the help of several aides while Press Attaché Hannah Nelen and her staff took over the conference room and booted out the others who were underfoot. Gorka radioed Dugan to report that he had DSA officers set up lookout posts on the roof, the top level of the parking garage, and the front gatehouse, though none of them reported seeing anything other than dimly-outlined columns of smoke rising from indeterminate locations around the city. For his part, Dugan telephoned the DSA’s central headquarters in Chalcedon to inform them that Mórrdun had just been struck by multiple explosions and request that DSA officials set up a videoconference with him in the next fifteen minutes or less. Dugan was not the only person reaching out to Chalcedon, for the mission’s military attaché locked herself in a secure communication booth to contact the Ministry of Defense and the undercover FID officer who served as the embassy’s economic attaché claimed another booth to contact her immediate superior.

The ambassador turned to one of his aides. “Mr. Brodkin, summon my press attaché. I want her to give me an update.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” A few moments later, Brodkin returned with a telegenic blond-haired woman trailing behind him.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on above the surface?” Voltich cut to the chase.

“Your Excellency, my staff are frantically monitoring every channel they can. They’ve got three TVs going and several tablet out streaming live coverage. To the best of our knowledge, all of the major networks agree there’s been an attack but nobody has any idea who is behind it. MBC World Service is reporting communications blackouts and claiming the Garda is in disarray.”

“Keep monitoring the situation,” Dugan instructed. “I want something I can tell Headquarters back home so they can act.”

“Of course, Captain. I’ll keep my staff on it.”

“Thank you.”

---

Ten minutes into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Federal Intelligence Department Headquarters Campus
Chalcedon, Capital District
Imperial Federation of the Monavian Empire
Northwestern Nova

Of the Federal Intelligence Department’s seven directorates, the Directorate of Intelligence was the one tasked with analyzing information collected by the FID’s field officers and fleet of signals intelligence satellites. The Directorate’s arsenal contained many tools, the largest of which was a battery of vast server farms known as ESSA—the Electronic Signal Surveillance Array. ESSA collected more information than any of the FID’s other assets, for its computers had enough bandwidth to intercept and read every signal passing within fifty thousand kilometers of Chalcedon. At any given moment, thousands of ESSA’s server blocks intercepted tremendous quantities of electronic data and filtered it through the FID’s proprietary software programs to look for evidence that a foreign threat might be taking shape in some corner of Nova or Greater Díenstad. Whenever the system’s software determined that specific signals merited further study, it flagged them with electronic tags and then referred the flagged items to signals intelligence analysts for processing.

Once Viktor Cathmore’s forces began assaulting their objectives, it only took a few minutes for ESSA’s servers to register a rapid increase in the volume of private telephone calls, radio broadcasts, and other forms of electronic chatter being produced throughout the Commonwealth. FID officers accustomed to working with ESSA resources immediately recognized the uptick in volume and began tracing the geographic source of the spike in traffic to Mórrdun, at which point one of the officers on duty began telephoning their contacts in other directorates and asking for information on Morridane affairs that they had received within the last hour. In the minutes that followed, ESSA’s systems detected a rapid increase in the volume of encrypted signals passing through Morridane military channels, but since ESSA was not designed to handle cryptographic tasks, these signals had to be forwarded elsewhere for decryption. ESSA’s staff of analysts did not have much information from which they could draw any conclusions, but they could sense, almost instinctively, that something in Morrdh had gone dreadfully wrong.

✠✠✠✠

If the Directorate of Intelligence made up most of the FID’s brain, then the Directorate of External Operations (DEO) served as the FID’s hands since it was responsible for the assignment of intelligence officers working as part of Monavian diplomatic missions. It was here, in the Foreign Espionage Section, that an operations officer named Monica Todorovich found her fax machine whirring to life and spitting out an encrypted transmission at an odd hour of the night. When the machine had completed its work, Lieutenant Todorovich found herself reading a troubling dispatch:

OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUÉ

To: FID HQ DEO Office
From: Mórrdun Chancery Station
Subject: Security Incident in Progress

A security incident has arisen that poses a potential threat to the Monavian Chancery in Mórrdun. Less than twenty minutes ago, a series of explosions rocked the Morridane capital and prompted the embassy to go into lockdown as a precaution. All of the local news networks appear to agree that the city is under attack. Nobody has made any headway in identifying the attackers.

Chancery security officials have not reported any breaches of the premises. My station will attempt to contact other FID stations in-country as needed to determine their status. No FID stations elsewhere have contacted the Chancery Station. Chancery Station has raised its intelligence posture to maximum level and advises that all FID assets in the Commonwealth do likewise.

End of transmission.

Todorovich did not take long to respond.

OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUÉ

To: Mórrdun Chancery Station
From: FID HQ DEO Office
Subject: Security Incident in Progress

We received your transmission concerning the attacks in Mórrdun and are relieved to know that the Chancery does not appear to be a target. We are preparing to contact other FID stations and relay the information you provided to other concerned parties. Stand by for further instructions.

End of transmission.

---

Sixteen minutes into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Directorate of Military Intelligence
Ministry of Defense Complex
Chalcedon, Capital District
Imperial Federation of the Monavian Empire
Northwestern Nova

Of all the dimensions of warfare—geographic, economic, political, technological, psychological, and informational—it was the lattermost that interested the Directorate of Military Intelligence. The Ministry of Defense operated the DMI as a shared clearinghouse for information collected by the Monavian armed forces, disseminated its findings among the military command structure, and shared its findings with the Imperial Defense Council and other policymakers. The DMI assigned its operational resources to independent units which specialized in surveilling and analyzing the countries after which they were named, so the job of collating intelligence on the Commonwealth’s fell to the Morrdh Intelligence Office.

However competent and well-resourced the DMI’s overseas assets were, they had not detected the arrival of Viktor Cathmore’s forces thanks to the cleverly measured fashion in which they arrived, and neither could they have detected—or prepared for—the initial blows struck by Viktor’s saboteurs. Over the course of a ninety-second period, the Morrdh Intelligence Office lost numerous signals coming from Mórrdun and scrambled to determine how they lost their signals. The saboteurs who choreographed the initial salvo of bombings executed their mission well enough to disrupt Monavian surveillance activities almost as severely as they disrupted the Garda’s communications. Frantic calls to Orbital Surveillance Command proved fruitless; they too had registered massive signal losses around the Morridane capital and the blanket of clouds covering the city precluded all attempts at direct visual surveillance.

For the office’s commander, a forty-year-old Imperial Air Force colonel named Ivanka Novak, the night could hardly have gone worse. In the minutes it took for her adjutant to drive her to the office, the staff working there had taken on the sort of mood that launch control officers develop when they receive orders to send nuclear ordinance skyward. Novak found every telephone was in use, every headset active, and every monitor glowing with some display or another when her adjutant finally issued a harsh cry of “Officer on deck!” and escorted her inside.

Numerous subordinates stood up from their desks and tables to salute their CO, prompting her to reciprocate with the starched, confident poise of a woman accustomed to commanding. “At ease!” she ordered, allowing her unit to return to their work. “Adjutant, is anyone free to brief me about the situation?”

“Colonel Novak, our unit has lost most of its signal feeds around Mórrdun approximately fifteen minutes ago. OSC is reporting similar problems and cannot get any eyes on target. Our only intelligence at the moment is a call coming in from the Monavian Chancery in Mórrdun. The caller has identified herself as the mission’s military attaché, Captain Karen Horwitz. She is currently speaking with one of our people. Shall I transfer her to your line?”

“Yes. Let me speak to her at once.”

---

Twenty-three minutes into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Kenway Heights, Mórrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh
Northeastern Greater Díenstad

Even though the ground had ceased trembling and none of the AFVs peeling away from Viktor’s convoy had come within sight of the Chancery, the mood among the subbasement’s occupants remained unsettled as the news stations they watched continued to cover the assault in sensational detail. After watching roughly ten minutes of this coverage, Nelen left the conference room to give Dugan and Voltich an update.

“Your Excellency, multiple sources have reported attacks happening all over the city. They’ve lost count of the number of buildings on fire—”

“Ms. Nelen! Ms. Nelen!” a visibly panicked aide cried as he burst into the room behind her. “The feed from MBC went dead!”

“Dead?” Nelen ejaculated in disbelief.

“The reporters on the roof said something about gunfire near the castle and then a tank stopped in front of the building and pointed its gun at them and the feed went out!”

Dugan cursed, Voltich gasped, and for a few tense beats the news left everyone too stunned to utter a sound.

✠✠✠✠

For well over a third of an hour following the coup’s launch, the DSA officers serving as lookouts observed no unusual traffic passing through Kenway Heights apart from a few Garda patrol cars racing in the direction of downtown Mórrdun. While the officers had no knowledge of the attack’s purpose or perpetrators, they assumed whoever was commanding the assault was not interested in making additional enemies by attacking diplomatic facilities. For this reason, the rooftop lookout detail, which adopted the radio callsign Nest One, hoisted the Imperial Federation’s flag to the top of a rooftop flagpole and turned on the floodlights that normally illuminated the flag on special occasions. This same detail was the first group of DSA personnel to spot any form of military traffic passing through the area. “Falcon One, this is Nest One,” Dugan heard his radio speak. “We have sighted a vehicle passing nearby that appears to be some sort of APC or AFV. Out.”

“Nest One, keep us apprised on the vehicle’s location and direction of travel. Over.”

“Wilco. Nest Two and Nest Three, this is Nest One. Keep yourselves on the lookout for an armored vehicle passing close to our area. Over.”

“Nest One, this is Nest Two. Wilco.”

“Nest Two, roger.”

“Nest One, this is Nest Three. Wilco.”

“Nest Three, roger.”

“Falcon One, this is Nest Three. The suspicious vehicle appears to be passing through without stopping. We think its crew’s objective must lie elsewhere unless it’s a scout. Out.”

“Nest Three, this is Falcon One. Do any nearby buildings appear to be targets?”

“Negative.”

The AFV soon passed out of view and did not reappear, but its appearance was a harbinger of worse things to come. In the blink of an eye, everyone inside the subbasement’s harshly-lit rooms saw their televisions and computers go dead and the lights sputter out to produce a darkness that would have matched the inside of coal mine if everyone had their smartphones off. Those who were startled the most severely by the blackout seemed to feel a momentary flash of paralysis amid the cacophony of oaths and hushed gasps erupting around them, and in the few short but seemingly interminable beats it took for them to regain command of their senses, a handful of unfazed individuals began activating their smartphone flashlights in an effort to illuminate their surroundings.

“Did we blow a fuse?” asked one random staffer somewhere in the main hall.

“No, it appears the power’s out,” explained a voice belonging to the facility custodian. “I’ll check the breaker box and see what’s happening.” After a hot, slow minute that may as well have felt like three, the custodian announced that the breaker box was intact and no fuses were blown. “Just give me a minute and I’ll throw the switch for the emergency batteries,” he assured a number of people standing nearby before heading back into the electrical room to switch the Chancery’s connection with the municipal power grid to a rack of batteries used to store energy drawn from roof-mounted solar panels. In the time it took for this to happen, Voltich swore he could feel a collective sense of apprehension hang over those around him, only for it to dissipate once the lights flickered back on and dead screens crackled to life. With the power restored for at least a few hours, a new frenzy of action sprang up among the embassy staff, none of whom now doubted that they were in for a long night.

---

Thirty-three minutes into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Directorate of Military Intelligence
Ministry of Defense Complex
Chalcedon, Capital District
Imperial Federation of the Monavian Empire
Northwestern Nova

Col. Novak eighteen-year career in military intelligence had endowed her with a wealth of experience that enabled her to maintain her demeanor in a variety of trying circumstances, but none of her past challenges matched the one she presently faced. Every telephone line cut, radio signal jammed, and Internet connection blocked as a consequence of the coup made her picture of the situation in Mórrdun just a little foggier, and when the lights went out at the Chancery, so did the otherwise secure telephone line Capt. Horwitz was using to supply Novak with real-time information. With her main source of intelligence now out of commission, she could sense the tension surrounding her and everyone else in her department grow palpably heavier than it was when she first arrived—and once news came in that the FID reported troop movements along the Mokan border, the atmosphere only seemed to grow more apprehensive with every passing minute.

“Colonel, there’s a call waiting for you,” Novak’s adjutant called out while gesturing towards her office.

Novak arose silently with little more than a nod and followed her adjutant into a sparsely-furnished room where a black landline telephone sat on the far right corner of a steel desk. “Who is it this time?” the colonel asked after her adjutant shut the door.

“The caller stated that he was calling from the Ordenite Reich Intelligence Office and said he needs to speak to you immediately.”

“Good evening,” Novak spoke into her telephone’s receiver. “This is Colonel Novak speaking.”

“Colonel, I have some bad news. We’ve received intelligence that the Ordenite Navy is scrambling its surface assets. OSC reports multiple warships steaming out of their berths and all manner of related activity.”

Novak’s flesh turned pale and her sapphire eyes seemed to lose their fire. In the few heartbeats it took for her mind to register this development, her previously dignified-but-strained composure seemed to crumple and her grip on the receiver slackened, causing it to drop into her lap before she could catch it. Even from several paces away, her adjutant could sense her distress. “What is it?”

“The Ordenite Navy is scrambling its ships,” Novak whispered as she held the receiver aside before bringing it back to her ear. “Our department and many others are aware that the Ordenite Navy has been making preparations for some sort of deployment for some time. OSC and other sources have reported observing movements of men and materiel consistent with preparation for large-scale operations, but nobody knew what they were really planning. Given their past history with Morrdh and the PUF, the brass thought we should be aware so that we could watch for reciprocal preparations being made by the Ordenite Reich’s opponents, but so far we’ve seen nothing.”

“That is very strange,” the man at the other end of the line commented. “The timing of these events is too perfect to be coincidental. First there’s a surprise attack, then the Morridanes redeploy their southern border forces, and now this happens.”

“I concur. Call me again if you learn more,” Novak requested as she hung up her phone and rose to face her adjutant. “This shitshow just gets better and better. Before you know it, the whole region will be panicking and slinging missiles—nothing like a massive war to brighten up your morning!” she vented indignantly. Never before had she witnessed a security incident unravel on her watch with such diabolical celerity, and never in her years of intelligence work had she seen her department—and Monavian intelligence as a whole—caught so thoroughly off guard.

---

Fifty minutes into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Kenway Heights, Mórrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh
Northeastern Greater Díenstad

With local media outlets offline, Internet connections spotty, telephone lines cut, and Capt. Dugan’s lookouts finding their lines of sight constrained by the presence of other buildings, the Monavian embassy’s access to information remained frustratingly limited. In an attempt to search for alternative sources of information Nelen’s press team had spent about fifteen minutes flipping through every radio and television channel they could find in the hope that at least one of them played something other than static. When it became clear they would have no luck, they adopted a wait-and-see approach and planned to repeat this process every half hour until their persistence paid off.

Approximately two hours after the coup’s first shots were fired, a press aide cycling through channels on one of the conference room’s TVs came across an MNN broadcast and leapt out of his seat in delight. “MNN is on! The Mokans have coverage!”

With a chorus of cheers, a score of newly jubilant embassy personnel muscled their way inside the conference room and took all of sixty seconds to transform it into a standing-room-only venue. Voltich and Dugan both took notice of the commotion and forced their way inside, craning past closely-packed heads to see MNN anchors and guests debating the nature of the attack as its true cause had yet to be known. Once the coverage cut to commercials, Voltich’s legal attaché called out a suggestion. “Someone turn on IFIN!”

Within a few seconds, the aide controlling the TV switched channels to Imperial Federation International News, where a panel of six middle-aged contributors were seated around a table arguing in a fashion similar to that of their Mokan counterparts. MORRIDANE CAPITAL BOMBED AND RAIDED read the chyron below the video feed, and the ticker scrolling along the bottom was of little help. “Flip to INS,” another aide suggested, prompting yet another channel change. This effort yielded similar results. Every minute or two someone suggested another channel, but after cycling from the Imperial News Service to the Monavian Broadcasting Corporation to the Monavian Press Network and a half-dozen others, it became clear that nobody had much information beyond what could be directly observed by journalists posted in the city or contacts hazarding this task on their behalf.

✠✠✠✠

Nobody at the Chancery had any idea that their signals came back online because Viktor Cathmore’s men had finally seized Mórrdun Castle and needed to stop jamming electronic traffic to broadcast their own transmissions to the public. Since foreign channels had the disadvantage of having to obtain information secondhand, the crowd agreed to switch back to one of the local Morridane channels. After several more minutes of watching, they suddenly saw the feed cut from a news studio to the interior of a capacious, stately room where a man standing behind a line of microphones began to address his audience with a laconic introduction.

“Ye do not know me, but ye will soon enough.”

“I am Viktor Cathmore, brother ta the late King Alfred Cathmore and scion o’ Clan Cathmore.” Viktor declared.

“It’s really him,” Voltich whispered recalling images of the prince that were included in the briefing documents he had reviewed right as it became public knowledge that King Alfred’s health was failing. “He really is Viktor Cathmore.”

“I hereby proclaim me right ta the Morridane Crown and the ancient throne o’ Mordent, I claim this on the basis o’ blood.” Announced Viktor. “The so-called ‘Queen’ Lothwyn was a pretender, a no-blood child placed on the throne by men seeking ta use her as a puppet. Supposedly she was me brother’s daughter, but I have proof that she was o’ no relation ta him nor I and I am willing ta share this proof with the world.”

The conference room, previously silent save for the television, began to fill with murmurs. If Viktor’s claims were anything other than bunk, then this entire attack was not just a coup that happened just because an opportunity had spontaneously opened up, but the fruit of a long-delayed reckoning. Voltich, Dugan, Nelen, Brodkin, and the others could all perceive, in their own separate ways, a potent malevolence boiling within the pretender’s spirit.

“As o’ this moment I am invoking me birthright and declaring meself Ard Righ o’ both the ancient Kingdom o’ Mordent and the Commonwealth o’ Morrdh. All clan chieftains are required ta swear fealty ta me, all military units are ordered ta stand down and the Assembly is hereby suspended.”

“I am Viktor Cathmore, ye now know me as King.”

Voltich stared, almost transfixed, at a man who had just claimed his recompense for past grievances and was determined to make his point of view command the world’s respect. Here, at a late hour of the night in a cramped underground room, the TV screen brought the Monavian ambassador face-to-face with a prince betrayed, cheated, humiliated, and deprived of his country, now returned to settle a score long out of balance. “Incredible!” Voltich proclaimed, addressing nobody in particular. “Karma really is a bitch!”

✠✠✠✠

Two hours after Viktor Cathmore’s first broadcast, Voltich convened a strategy meeting with Dugan, Gorka, and his team of attachés to discuss the options available to them. With the fighting now over for the present moment, Dugan obtained Voltich’s permission to terminate the Chancery’s lockdown, though both agreed that the lookouts needed to be maintained. The mission’s first priority, apart from guaranteeing the safety of its assets, was regaining the operational capabilities it lost during the assault on the city. With the Chancery physically intact and its staff unharmed, there was not much that could be done except the implementation of certain security precautions. Dugan assigned DSA officers to assist embassy personnel with consolidating sensitive digital files and executing data evacuation protocols, but nothing they did was anything like what their counterparts from Imbrinium had done at their chancery. If anything, it appeared that Viktor was taking great pains to ensure that foreign diplomats got left alone.

Viktor eventually released a radio transmission that Nelen’s aides transcribed while Voltich breakfasted with other members of the embassy. Just as the meal wound down, an aide brought the transcript to him to review, prompting him to call a snap meeting on the spot so he could discuss its contents with the others. On one hand, the ambassador and his security officers were doubly relieved to see the new pretender making solemn assurances that he would do whatever he could to protect foreign nationals from harm. On the other hand, Viktor was already promulgating major foreign policy changes—and ones that could potentially harm Monavian interests at that—without taking time to consolidate his position. Was Viktor some sort of cocky genius, they wondered, or was he now reckless as a consequence of getting insanely lucky? Either way, the embassy’s senior staff agreed that only time could tell the difference.

Voltich went up to the roof to clear his head and let his mind roam through the morning’s events with the help of another cigar, though most of the combustible rod was gone by the time he got around to doing any focused strategizing. Queen Lothwyn’s government had been aligned with pro-Monavian countries like the Holy Empire, Free Republic, and PUF, thereby making it tacitly pro-Monavian as well, so the Imperial Federation had an inherent interest in backing her régime. At the same time, Viktor has just openly predicated his coup on two assertions: first, that Lothwyn was not the Commonwealth’s rightful monarch, and second, that Lothwyn was a puppet doing the bidding of others who were unwilling to govern the Commonwealth openly. If Viktor’s claims are even partially true, then what’s the point of staying aligned with her? Voltich contemplated. What’s the point of backing a government that cannot guarantee its own trustworthiness?

With Lothwyn now cast from power and replaced by someone who had yet to assume any positions vis-à-vis the Imperial Federation, Voltich recognized that he needed to find a way of placing his thumb on Viktor’s scales to push them in a desirable direction. The only way to do this, Voltich reasoned, was to identify something that he could offer Viktor that Viktor badly needed—and then the ambassador had an epiphany. With the day still young and fresh, Voltich put out what little remained of his cigar and returned to his office, eager to offer his superiors a proposal worthy of their attention.

---

Over five hours into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Office of the Minister of Foreign Affairs
Ministry of Foreign Affairs Building
Chalcedon, Capital District
Imperial Federation of the Monavian Empire
Northwestern Nova

The long night had become a long morning. In the hours following Viktor Cathmore’s initial broadcast, the cascade of events being tracked by the DMI were now becoming public and receiving news coverage throughout Nova and Greater Díenstad. As in the case of the Ministry of Defense, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had its own intelligence organ, the Department of External Information, and much like its military counterpart, this department was organized into scores upon scores of offices, each of which was assigned to keep watch over specific countries and NGOs. The tremendous quantity of news this department was now processing and collating for analysis by the Ministry’s policy experts had resulted in the compilation of numerous briefing files and dossiers, not to mention the action file that was opened by the DSA as a result of Dugan’s call.

Once senior Ministry officials realized that Viktor Cathmore’s surprise triumph was escalating from a minor geopolitical incident to a potential regional crisis, they made an emergency call to Minister Garmash and requested that she come into the Ministry much earlier than usual to receive detailed briefings. Her senior policy council—the nine-member Foreign Policy Advisory Board—had prepared enough material to keep her occupied for up to three hours, but after just forty minutes of digesting summaries of the coup’s main events along with intelligence snippets from the FID and DMI, Garmash decided she had heard enough and asked her staff to put her in contact with her counterparts elsewhere. With no official statements coming from other governments, the Monavians would have to be the first to stake out any sort of position, and while Minister Garmash wanted to have enough information at her disposal to craft a plausible justification for whatever position she took, vacillation was out of the question. When it came to deciding which course to follow, the ship of Garmash’s ministry now found itself caught in windless doldrums—and then Ambassador Voltich called.

Voltich’s proposal was very simple. He wanted to request an audience with Viktor and offer him a chance to make his case—something no other governments seemed inclined to do yet—and thereby determine which of the two sides was lying. In exchange, he wanted a pledge to support Monavian interests in Morrdh and entertain Monavian proposals in future negotiations. At the very least, the Imperial Federation could finally play the card game of global geopolitics with a full deck and a fuller picture of who was gambling what. In the meantime, all Voltich needed was for Garmash to buy him some time by staking out a position that gave other governments a compelling reason to hesitate a little longer before acting.

---

Seven hours into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Press auditorium
Ministry of Foreign Affairs Building
Chalcedon, Capital District
Imperial Federation of the Monavian Empire
Northwestern Nova

Few of Chalcedon’s buildings sported press auditoria as opulently decorated and furnished as the one where Garmash was set to deliver her first press conference following Viktor’s coup. The auditorium might have seated just eighty people, but between the chandeliers set with lead crystals, the heavy damask curtains and their silken cords, the mahogany chairs upholstered in crimson satin, and the floor of milky white marble through which smoky wisps of gray seemed to swirl like the clouds above Mórrdun, it would have been surprising if any journalist lucky enough to score credentials as a Ministry correspondent regarded his or her seat as anything less than a throne. Even the front lectern appeared a little regal as it sat atop a low rostrum and bore a full-color rendition of the Ministry’s seal.

When the time came for Minister Garmash to appear, an aide opened one of the side doors to admit a statuesque, fairly-complexioned woman with topaz-hued eyes and angular Nordic features. Her attire for this occasion, which consisted of a purple chiffon gown with a mid-calf hem and a double-breasted lavender coat, was regal enough to match her setting, as were her amethyst teardrop earrings and matching brooch set in gold. Having served first as the Ministry’s chief legal officer in the 2010s and later becoming Augustus Borozan’s deputy thereafter, Garmash had dedicated most of her adult life to public service and was now in her late fifties. As could be expected from an official of her caliber and background, she kept her delivery professional and measured. “Good morning. As many of those watching might already be aware, a coup had taken place in the Commonwealth of Morrdh. Earlier this morning, a body of armed men loyal to Viktor Cathmore, who happens to be Queen Lothwyn’s uncle, stormed the Morridane capital by surprise and took control of the city.” Garmash paused for several beats to let her opening lines settle before she added any more information to the mix. “Viktor Cathmore has since proclaimed himself the Commonwealth’s rightful sovereign and justified his claim on the contention that his niece does not have the legitimacy to rule that her government present claims. He has promised to offer proof, but so far, we do not believe he has disclosed it to anyone.”

With another lengthy pause, Garmash now reached the part of her opening statement that was likeliest to attract foreign attention, and recalibrated the rhythm of her delivery to seem even more measured than before. “Due to the air of mystery surrounding this affair, the Monavian government cannot evaluate Viktor Cathmore’s claims nor assess the validity of his purported kingship. While we acknowledge that his seizure of Mórrdun has taken place, we neither recognize his actions as legitimate—nor reject them as illegitimate—and will not be able to make such a decision until more facts emerge.” A flurry of camera shutters forced Garmash to pause again, unwilling to continue until the photographers ceased from noisily exacting their pound of flesh.

“The Monavian government is willing to revisit this position in the future, if—and only if—such changes appear prudent. This matter aside, we are genuinely thankful for Viktor Cathmore’s assurances that all foreign nationals present in Morrdh are being respected and granted safe passage out of the country should they desire it. Out of respect for the new government’s determination to avoid hostility towards the Imperial Federation and her allies, the Monavian government will not entertain any designs intended to harm the Morridane state’s lawful interests,” Garmash continued in the hope that her magnanimity would place her position above reproach. Now, having prefaced the conclusion of her statement with saccharine platitudes, she closed her remarks by hinting at the amount of backbone that lay submerged beneath her honeyed verbiage. “We likewise hope that Viktor Cathmore’s public commitment to seek and maintain diplomatic relations with other states will mitigate any harmful effects that his coup might cause for other parties—however, we also expect all parties engaging in such relations to demonstrate substantial integrity in dealing with us. I believe I speak for my entire country when I say that there are few things the average Monavian loathes more than suffering deception and betrayal, and I trust that this sentiment is held far beyond our borders.

“Having concluded my opening remarks, I would now like to open the floor for questions.” Garmash had covered many critical points, but deliberately made one conspicuous omission. She made no mention of the Ordenite Reich.

---

Nine hours into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Kenway Heights, Mórrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh
Northeastern Greater Díenstad

With his plan finally clear to move forward, Voltich wrote a letter of introduction in which he requested that Viktor grant him a formal audience, sealed the letter in an envelope, and locked it inside an aluminum briefcase. He gave the case and its keys to a diplomatic courier and instructed him to drive one of the official vehicles in the direction of Mórrdun Castle with a simple mission: drive straight to the castle and speak with the guards, or run into Viktor’s forces along the way, flag them down, and ask them to escort him there. “Once you have made contact with his troops, identify yourself and tell them you’re delivering a message from the Monavian ambassador and state that you have orders to give the message to someone who has the authority to speak with Viktor in person. Then, once you have been conducted to someone who deals directly with Viktor, you are to unlock your case, hand over the letter I gave you, and depart promptly unless instructed otherwise.”

---

A few days into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Orbital Defense Command
Mt. Talus Complex
Imperial Federation of the Monavian Empire
Northwestern Nova

Back in the 1990s, when most of the Imperial Federation’s antiballistic defenses consisted of ABMs designed to physically interdict their targets, there was no shortage of defense engineers who dreamed a day would come when laser technology was sufficiently refined to use for missile defense. In the years that followed, the Ministry of Defense invested considerable resources in developing ground-based antiballistic laser technology that led to the creation of the Anti-Ballistic Laser Defense Network in 1998. Each of the network’s facilities consisted of a 3.5-acre lot surrounded by a five-meter-high concrete wall and rows of tank barriers dedicated to protecting a central bunker. Each bunker housed a pair of retractable continuous-wave laser emitters in separate compartments and could draw enough power from the municipal grids of the cities they protected to fire 3 MW beams at targets in low earth orbit. The firepower of these emitters was not only sufficient for destroying incoming missiles, but also attacking satellites and aircraft, so their applications were not limited to just their primary defensive function.

Over two decades after the network’s first installations began construction, a pair of scientists seeking to increase the system’s range devised a plan of such fiendish cunning that it would become a source of countless legends in defense circles for decades thereafter. The scientists proposed constructing a space station that could focus beams from multiple network locations into a single beam of unsurpassed potency and relay it through a number of satellites anywhere in the world. To place the system out of range of most existing anti-satellite weapons, which were generally designed to strike LEO targets, the orbits of the station and relay satellites would have to occupy the MEO zone instead of the LEO zone. A plan this ambitious was feasible on paper, but in practice, the Monavian government did not have the commercial lifting capabilities to deploy the station’s modules at the desired altitude and therefore relied on foreign companies—some of them based out of the Commonwealth—to realize this design.

The Ministry of Defense dubbed its new weapons system the Polycentric Laser Emitting Intermediated Atmospheric Directed Energy System—PLEIADES, for short—and named the central station Pleione. On the day the system first came online, those who masterminded the system’s creation playfully suggested testing it by using the laser to etch their initials on the outside of Fortress Norska’s Black Citadel—which was technically possible—but Orbital Defense Command (ODC) nixed their proposal out of a desire not to show the entire world just how many aces the Empire’s poker hand now carried.

Ever since the People’s Nation of Alfegos descended into a civil war that ended with the two sides nuking each other into oblivion, the Ministry of Defense had become almost pathologically averse to tolerating another civil war going nuclear anywhere Monavian interests might become involved. Given the spaceflight capabilities that the Morridane armed forces possessed, including their ability to have orbital fighter-bombers carry nuclear payloads, OSC and ODC had many reasons to maintain a lookout for atomic ordinance going into orbit. Banshee Flight’s mission immediately became cause for alarm once ODC detected the unique radiation signatures of weaponized fissile materials orbiting over Greater Díenstad, and by the time the flight’s pilots got into position to release their payloads, ODC was furiously scrambling to get antiballistic lasers aimed (but not yet fired) into Pleione’s collection apparatus.

Hovering in a geostationary orbit above the Odessa Space Center, Pleione’s location and altitude afforded it a direct line of sight for collecting dozens of beams at any given time and directing them to any adjacent relay satellite in a matter of seconds, provided the entire system was fully primed and a firing command was being transmitted. Now, with ODC positive that nuclear weapons were being fired at Morrdh, it did not matter who was firing them or why—all that mattered was making an earnest effort to prevent another Alfegos. With several nuclear-armed rockets hurtling into the atmosphere at a speed that left little room for error, ODC issued a final order to the PLEIADES control team: FIRE AT WILL.

[Lamoni]

After Queen Lothwyn's arrival in Lamoni

The Morridane Queen could be forgiven for thinking that the events since she’d arrived in Lamoni were a blur. From being introduced to the Lamonian Special Protection Service guards who would protect her, she was whisked away to a waiting LA-214 Molior helicopter, which took flight towards an airfield where an LARS aircraft was waiting to whisk her away to an AN-5K aircraft, which would take her to Government AFB, just outside of Nephi, Lamoni. Until the Queen had gotten to where she was going, the plan was to keep her moving, not only making it less likely for an assassin to find her, but also would reduce the amount of time available for them to do so. At least three different modes of transport were planned during each leg of the journey, the method ultimately to be used not even disclosed to those operating them until Queen Lothwyn herself arrived. No expense had been spared when it came to Her Majesty’s personal protection, and even the other’s in the Queen’s party were not permitted to travel with her, but instead used the alternate methods of transportation.

Even today, most people outside of those in space would not have experienced docking with a flying craft using another flying craft, but that is what the LARS aircraft carrying the Queen was designed to do, docking with an AN-5K aircraft in mid-air, allowing the massive nuclear-powered aircraft to stay aloft instead of having to land, in order to fulfill its mission of keeping the Queen moving. Using smaller craft such as the LARS would not allow the AN-5K to stay aloft for significantly longer periods of time, but it did allow the aircraft to both take on as well as deplane passengers, and small amounts of cargo. Thus, the AN-5K could be used for many things, from cargo delivery, to extreme long-range passenger flights, to strategic bombing, as the AN-5K could fly routes across multiple regions without needing to stop for supplies. For today though, this particular aircraft was on the last leg of its journey to Government AFB, carrying not only the Queen, but also mail, diplomatic correspondence, and other cargo from multiple regions. The interior of the aircraft had none of the flowery decoration that defined what heads of state and government were used to, it was much more utilitarian, and the interior reflected this. There were windows, however, and one could use them to watch the scenery as it flew by at one thousand kilometers per hour.

Even before landing at Government AFB aboard the massive aircraft, one could hardly fail to see that it was a vast complex, built to be able to handle many, many diplomatic air and spacecraft from all of the nations that the Free Republic had diplomatic relations with. There were ten runways for aircraft, all of them running on a north-south orientation, and each of them spaced far enough apart from each other so as to allow for AN-5K aircraft, with their huge three hundred fifty meter wingspans to be able to safely take-off and land. And indeed, as the aircraft descended to use one of these runways, one could see the suburbs of the megalopolis that was the Lamonian capital city of Nephi. This close to an active air force base, the buildings were shorter than they might normally be, but a lot of apartment buildings could still clearly be seen, as well as shorter vertical farms, these distinguished by the amounts of green that could be seen inside of them. Parks could also be seen here and there, placed so that the people could have the personal space that their apartments could not provide. The huge scale of the scene provided a hint as to just how many people actually lived in the Free Republic, and yet, it was still on the small scale, the main core of the megalopolis being located in a nearby river valley located kilometers away.

Moving quickly through the base facilities, Queen Lothwyn was escorted to a caravan of black SUVs, which would take her the rest of the way to Dearborne Manor, which would be her home away from home for as long as she remained exiled from her homeland. Once the home of a drug lord who had bought it under an assumed name, the Lamonian National Police had raided the place, arresting everyone involved in illegal activities, and leaving the Manor without a legal owner. When the property had been put up for auction, the Lamonian Foreign Ministry had put in a bid, hoping to be able to use the property to high ranking diplomatic guests. Winning the auction, repairs had begun with the purpose of fixing the property damage caused by the police raid, and they had been completed two years before Queen Lothwyn had been escorted through the front doors. The Manor was located on a forested four acre lot, with a wall surrounding the property to keep out the curious. Various guard patrols and alarms had also been instituted for the comfort and safety of the guests, and with the Queen’s arrival, the Lamonian Marines were currently providing the facility’s guard force. This would be augmented with various Morridane military personnel, as soon as they had gone through background and other security checks. These various checks being conducted in order to ensure that Viktor Cathmore did not have anyone placed who could take out Her Majesty. Over the course of the remainder of the day, the rest of the Queen’s party arrived from the different routes which they had all taken in order to get there.

What would happen next however, was entirely up to Her Majesty.

[Mokastana]

VARIOUS NEWS REPORTS FROM MOKASTANA:
"...The Fegosian Union Stock exchange continues to decline as numerous investors pull out of Mokan companies, whether or not they rely on Morridane goods…”



“...We are live at what the locals are calling ‘waiting camps’ where travellers planning to cross the Mokan-Morridane border sometimes have to wait up to 17 hours or more before they can cross…savvy entrepreneurs have begun selling food, water and even camping supplies for anyone desperate enough to cross the border.”



“...remember the Mokan-Morridane border is now closed between 10pm to 6am. Both Federal and Commonwealth authorities have significantly increased security, expect inspections and long lines. Federal authorities may reject newer Morridane passports....”



"....This is economic war. The new King of Morrdh has arbitrarily closed the border to put a strain on Mokastana. No other logical reason exists. The Socialist Workers Party warned this day would come but no one listened…."

CODA Headquarters
(Comando Defensa Aeroespacial)
Juventud Island, Mokastana

So it had begun, the Morridane Civil War, and the opening shots were nuclear weapons. Four low yield tactical nuclear missiles flying towards the Royal Space Force command center of Waremera. Prime Minister Whittleton had warned the Federation of the attack, but that was probably due to fear of interference and retaliation, given how close Waremera was to the Mokan border. Due to their target, the missiles would be flying over Mokastana, approaching dangerously close to the Federation's own Space Forces Command Center of Rosewell. The PUF knew four low yield nuke were flying overhead, and watched intently. Every interceptor available, radar device, and satellite tracked the four missiles as they crossed the Sea of Tranquility towards the Mokan coast. Within minutes they were approaching the Baja Peninsula, maintaining altitude. The control room watched with anticipation as the missiles crossed into Federal Airspace. Genesis Space Station contacted CODA to confirm they had the missiles on their radar as well, locked on with laser defense batteries just in case. At the head of the Control Room, Air Marshal Jesus Manuel watched intently, knowing how quickly could find itself in a Nuclear war if things went wrong.

As fate would have it, just as the missiles passed over the Mejican town of Aguita, an energy spike was registered as the first missile disappeared from radar, then the second, third and last in short succession. Energy readings indicated a possible nuclear detonation, but could not confirm. An emergency EMP check went out to Moxhuactl Army Command, trying to verify military infrastructure integrity before checking on civilians. The Air Marshal ordered immediate verification with Genesis and Normandy Mountain in Wellovia, a three way check to confirm the missiles had either been intercepted or detonated over Mokan soil. Within seconds he had three confirmations, the missiles were gone. The only question now was whether they were intercepted or detonated, because their response was heavily dependent on which happened.

"Roswell reports no EMP detection."

"Moxhuactl Army Command reports in, cannot confirm EMP."

"Genesis station reports EMP shields in the green, no recorded nuclear detonation. Full report incoming."

The Air Marshal exhaled in relief that the missiles had not detonated. Still, someone had fired at objects flying in Federal airspace. Obviously the rebel forces currently occupying Morrdh were the prime suspects. If that was the case, it meant the Morridane civil war was now taking place over Mokastana, and the Air Marshal was within reason to be proactive. For the defense of the Federation, of course. Picking up the phone, the Air Marshal contacted Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron at Rosewell Space Command:

"Gabriel, do we have an origin of that interception?"

"It doesn't look like terrestrial origin. Possibly from MEO. Given the situation, are we still in agreement on the proper course of action?"

"Confirmed. Secure the orbit."


Rosewell Space Command
Rukkanan Desert, Mokastana

Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron knew it was time. Parliament may have voted against military action north of the border without an explicit requests from pro Lothwyn forces, but Space Command played by different rules. Their job was the security of space and interplanetary travel of the Federation, and to aid the CCA as needed. Terrestrial issues were, quite literally, beneath them.

Unfortunately, nearly half the domestic fleet was deployed out with the Commonwealth space forces combating pirates in a far away system. Even an emergency recall would take months to bring them back, Zeron had to work with what assets were available. Luckily, he had one card to play:

"Issue the following order to all CCA assets in orbit. To prevent additional space based attacks, all CCA assets in Earth's orbit are now under the command of Rosewell Space Command. Due to instability in Morrdh, access to Waremera space center is denied indefinitely. Launches from Waremera are also denied indefinitely. That is all."

As the order went out, an aid approached the Space Marshal: "Sir, and what of Space Marshal Cosgrave? What if he counteracts that order?"

"We just witnessed one Morridane faction attempt to launch a nuclear weapon at Waremera, in order to deny the other faction access to it. We can all agree the CCA needs Wamera, regardless of who sits on the throne. Forcing it to shut down saves a lot of infrastructure and people we need. Space Marshal Cosgrave should understand that. Still, you are right, get him on the line. As for the counter attack, do we have a point of origin?"

"A highly possible point of origin is satellite MON400217 in MEO. It's radiating unusually high energy levels. However, DEE (Department of Space Exploration) says its Monavian."

"Is it actually Monavian, or could that be a cover?"

"Object seems to be in geosynchronous orbit over Monavia sir."

Why the hell would they interfere in the Morridane Civil War? Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron wondered. "Send our closest Orca to do a fly by of that satellite, whose closest?"

"Captain Pacha of the FEM Ryūjin."

"Very well, have them do a closer check of that object. Get me as much information as we can."

"Yes Sir."

As Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron waited for the call with his Morridane equal, he was quietly grateful that the missiles had been shot down. For whatever reason they interfered, it had been a Godsend. Lives were saved and a nuclear war was averted. However, he had to stick to the plan, and the Monavians had just ignored Federal sovereignty, all while showing the world what their satellite network was capable of. The Federation would respond by sending a space warship, the FEM Ryūjin, into Monavian airspace to get a closer look. Hopefully the presence of a Federal Warship flying by their (rather impressive) laser satellite would be enough to get them to talk.

---

A few hours later....
MNN Broadcast:
Message from The President of the Federation Ben Rodriguez

"Comrades of the Federation, earlier today, the Morridane Civil War took a turn for the worst. Commonwealth space forces attempted to fire missiles into the southwest deserts of Morrdh. These missiles were intercepted over Mokan airspace by what we believe were rebel forces. To prevent their civil war from reaching space, the order has been given for the Federation to assume control of all Commonwealth Colonial Authority assets in orbit over the Earth. The CCA requires stable leadership, and we will provide that leadership until the crisis in Morrdh is resolved.

However, there are other issues caused by this crisis much closer to home. Increased border security and nightly border closings have caused unnecessary stress on the Mokan economy. From car parts to industrial equipment, the current faction controlling Morrdh is limiting our access to much needed shared technologies. After meeting with the Federal Security Council earlier today, we have decided to act before this economic crisis gets out of control.

As of tomorrow, oil exports to Morrdh will be cut in half, and will continue to decline every day until this crisis is resolved. Additionally, any other strategic resources such as medicine, ore, or food, that are normally exported to Morrdh will be similarly limited. This limitation will happen in two phases, phase one will be done by government owned industries, who will work with the Mejican Export Board to find new buyers on the global market. During this phase, no private company is allowed to increase its strategic exports to Morrdh. If this crisis continues, phase two will see the Mejican Export Board set additional regulations for private companies exporting to Morrdh, up to and including government purchasing of excess products.

I wish we could look forward to a quick resolution to the Morridane civil war, but it seems that may not be the case. Both civilian and military leaders of the Federation are working to find solutions to the fallout affecting us, but only time will tell how we find peace once again with our northern neighbor. Until that day, we will work to minimize the impact on Mokastana. Long live the Workers, long live the People, long live the Federation."

[Morrdh]

Morrdun Castle
Morrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh

For Viktor, his most vexing concern was that the whereabouts of his niece remained unknown. She'd fled Kaldwin House long before his men arrived there, a fact confirmed by the terrified servants who remained at the House. Fled they city they'd said, meaning that she could be hiding out somewhere in the countryside or even fled the country entirely. But where could she have gone?

He had agents out looking, trying to determine his niece's current location. Though he had to contend with mutinies amongst elements of the Commonwealth military that didn't accept his rule, a matter that required his attention with affairs concerning his niece being delegated to an aide to deal with. The mutinies were a problem, though an expected one. Admittedly matters were helped by elements of the Gardaí going on strike for similar reasons. Both needed dealing with accordingly, both would have to be made to see that Viktor was here to stay and he wasn't no walk over.

The communique from the Monavian embassy proved to be an unexpected, but welcomed development.

He spoke personally to the courier, acknowledging the receipt of the Monavian message and promised to respond once 'the dust had settled'. It took a couple of days, but respond Viktor did by approaching the Monavians to arrange a meeting. For a potential meeting place Viktor suggested Fianna Hall, home to the Morridane Oireachtas ('assembly' or 'parliament'). It was a deliberate choice as Fianna Hall had long been associated as the symbol of governance of the Commonwealth.

---

Dearborne Manor
Free Republic of Lamoni

Though she understood the reasons, Lothwyn wished she hadn't been hustled through Lamoni to a safe location at such a whirlwind pace. Soon as they arrived at one location they were whisked off to some place else almost immediately, given her current condition Lothwyn certainly felt the strain. It came as a blessed relief when they finally arrived at the Manor, Lothwyn herself silently offered up prayers of thanks to whatever deity happened to be listening before asking that a doctor attend to her soon as possible.

"Please also inform the Stevidians o' me safe arrival, I hope ta speak ta Taoiseach Whittleton ta discuss our next moves." Lothwyn asked, once she'd had a chance to finally settle down. "If possible, I'd like ta speak ta Prince Augusto o' Imbrinium....tis a very important matter that I have ta tell him.

---

In Orbit

The spacefighters of Banshee Flight had come back around, if anything to observe the missiles as they rocketed down through the atmosphere and report back to mission control. It was Banshee Flight who spotted the Monavian laser attack that destroyed all of the missiles, though the pilots were in the dark over who actually made the attack.

"Banshee Leader to mission control. Missiles destroyed, I repeat missiles destroyed." Reported the flight commander over the radio. "Missiles struck by some sort of laser from an unidentified satellite. Permission to engage. Over."

"Banshee Flight..." Crackled a hesitant voice over the radio in response. "Permission denied, repeat permission denied. Your orders are to RTB at once. Over."

"Wilco, Banshee Lead out."

---

2nd Army Command
Central Florida

Commandant Flynn realised that his stay at 2nd Army Command would only continue, and by extension remain comfortable, if he proved his worth to his Mokan hosts. Yet he could not openly give away critical information, especially as it could see him brought up on charges of treason back in the Commonwealth. No, if he was going to do this he needed to be smart about it.

It proved to be a simple matter of eavesdropping on his Mokan in order to find out what they wanted to do, then find a way of providing that information without actually saying or writing that information. When he heard the Mokans talking about terrain features in the border region, he left a satellite picture up on a computer screen with the mouse courser over a particular feature of terrain. Likewise, when he heard talk of the layout of Morrdun he found a map and 'left' items on it to identify locations of interest. He hoped this indirect method would help keep his hands clean whilst still proving himself to be of use.

Then news came from Murray that the night time border restrictions were to be gradually eased over the coming weeks, being reduced an hour at a time.

[Lamoni]

Queen's Bedchambers, Dearborne Manor

The Doctor which the Queen had requested was relatively quick in coming. Hardly three minutes had passed before a female Military Doctor entered the Queen's bedchambers with a large legal pad, as well as a pen, and other tools of the trade. "Welcome to the Free Republic, Your Majesty. I am Doctor Major Jeanette Refai. If you'd like, you can either call me Doctor, or by name. I am what you might know as a General Practitioner of medicine. Once everyone else leaves the room, we can start with a basic exam, as well as dealing with any other problems."

Being a doctor in the military, Jeanette's voice carried the weight of authority, such that at a gesture, everyone but the doctor and the Royal Patient had left the room, after one of the others had confirmed to Her Majesty that the requested communications would be ready for her as soon as the medical exam was over. When the last uninvited person had left the room and shut the door behind them, the Doctor turned back toward Her Majesty, stating with a professional tone, "Since you requested my presence, what seems to be the problem, Your Majesty? I would also like to perform a general exam, as well as getting as much medical information from you as you can remember. I wouldn't be doing my job, otherwise."

Elsewhere in the Manor

As the staffer which now had the task of reporting to the communications room in order to set up the Queen's requested communications walked along the corridors of the manor, one could see many paintings tastefully placed on the walls, including one which portrayed the wreckage of a ship repeatedly crashing against the rocky shore, with a man shown attempting to lift himself off of the ground on a rocky outcropping too small to be called an island, the mainland's shore being visible behind him. If one were knowledgeable about Lamonian history, they would be able to glean much meaning from this particular painting. The first groups of people who would eventually become Lamonians had all shipwrecked upon the shores, thus eventually forming the first communities who would have starved without help from the warriors of GC1mak, who taught them which plants were best able to grow in the local soils; allowing these first communities to expand, and work together until former national ties mostly forgotten, they had joined together to forge a new nation. This new nation had then expanded into the current day Free Republic of Lamoni, a nation strong enough to be a real player in world events. Thus, when one looked at this particular painting, they were seeing a representation of how the nation had actually begun. Lamonians had never been a homogeneous people, like what could be seen in other nations, but instead had always been a blending of many different peoples. Raised in such a national environment, Lamonians typically found nations which were only of a single race to be strange indeed. Intellectually of course, they knew that such nations existed, and could be prosperous in their own right, but the average Lamonian would still find such a thing to be strange, alien, foreign to them. It was also a reason why so-called "hate crimes" were rare in the Free Republic. If one had been raised around many other types of people their whole life, and this was regarded as totally normal by societal standards, then there really was not much left to fight about. Skin color, languages (as long as you were able to communicate with others in the country), and cultural differences were accepted. Neither Lamoni, nor her people, had ever known anything different.

Once the staffer had reached the communications room, he outlined what Her Majesty had requested to the staff there, and cables had been typed up, and transmitted via secured communications networks to the Lamonian embassies in both Stevid, and Imbrinium, using one-time pad ciphers. Whenever the Lamonian Government wished to send something highly sensitive to and from its various branches, one-time pad ciphers were used, due to their theoretically unbreakable level of security, if properly used. The use of these ciphers made them sometimes take longer to decode, but the security benefits were seen as an acceptable trade-off. Once the messages had been decoded, the Lamonian Ambassador to Stevid tracked down Taoiseach Whittleton via Lamonian diplomatic contacts there, while the Lamonian Ambassador to Imbrinium informed the Free Republic's diplomatic contacts there of Queen Lothwyn's desire to contact Prince Augusto. Naturally, both Governments had also been informed that the Queen was now residing in the Free Republic, but had been asked to keep the information secret. With the Queen's safety at stake, the Lamonians had no desire to put her life at risk. Thus, what happened next would normally seem out of pattern for the Lamonians to do, except if one remembered that Lamoni was part of the Delian League alliance, the Free Republic's oldest multi-lateral alliance. While the DL had seen better days, Stevid had already been contacted on the matter, meaning that there was one last active member of the alliance that would need to be informed of the situation. This missing player was Monavia, and thus a message asking the Monavian Ambassador to meet up with President Andrew Stinson himself at Dearborne Manor for a diplomatic meeting with a foreign leader had been dispatched by a known Lamonian diplomatic courier who had been used to send sensitive messages to the Monavian Embassy in Nephi in the past. Attached to the message was a major clue for the Monavian Ambassador, a photograph of Queen Lothwyn herself at a state function, as well as a friendly request to keep this matter as quiet as possible, for the Queen's (referred to in the message as "the leader's") own safety.

[Morrdh]

Queen's Bedchambers, Dearborne Manor

The Doctor which the Queen had requested was relatively quick in coming. Hardly three minutes had passed before a female Military Doctor entered the Queen's bedchambers with a large legal pad, as well as a pen, and other tools of the trade. "Welcome to the Free Republic, Your Majesty. I am Doctor Major Jeanette Refai. If you'd like, you can either call me Doctor, or by name. I am what you might know as a General Practitioner of medicine. Once everyone else leaves the room, we can start with a basic exam, as well as dealing with any other problems."

Being a doctor in the military, Jeanette's voice carried the weight of authority, such that at a gesture, everyone but the doctor and the Royal Patient had left the room, after one of the others had confirmed to Her Majesty that the requested communications would be ready for her as soon as the medical exam was over. When the last uninvited person had left the room and shut the door behind them, the Doctor turned back toward Her Majesty, stating with a professional tone, "Since you requested my presence, what seems to be the problem, Your Majesty? I would also like to perform a general exam, as well as getting as much medical information from you as you can remember. I wouldn't be doing my job, otherwise."

"O' course, I understand." Replied Lothwyn, having seated herself down. "Wot I asked fer is more than a check up."

"Me condition, well tis obvious enough I should think." Lothwyn continued as she rested a hand on her belly. "I believe I'm 'bouts six to seven months gone, least thats wot me personal physician told me."

"As fer me other medical information, I'm not aware o' anything serious." Said Lothwyn before proceeding to answer the series of questions that the doctor had. The Morridane monarch answered as truthfully as she could, going on what she recalled of her parents' health and of her family as she knew it. She also said about any serious illness and childhood diseases she had and what vaccines she remembered having.

---

HMMS Enbarr

"Why the long face Chief?" Hannon asked as the Enbarr's Chief Engineer, a Mordentish by the name of O'Malley, came onto the bridge. "Ye look like a man who's just be told he's gotta go sober."

"Ach, nothin' like that skip." O'Malley replied, handing over a clipboard with a wedge of papers attached to it. "Preliminary report fer the remedial work needin' done."

"Yes...been waiting fer that ta cross me desk." Hannon muttered as he took the clipboard and started leafing through. "Anything o' note?"

"Mostly bolts needin' tightenin', parts need replacin' or alternations needin' ta be made." Answered O'Malley. "Though one o' the coolant pumps on the reactor seems a bit...dickie."

"I'll see wot the Lamonians can do and whether they can pass it along ta the Stevidians." Said Hannon. "Keep me posted Chief."

"Aye skip."

[Imbrinium]

With every lead being tripled checked and a section of the OAH Imbrinium intelligence agency looking for Queen Lothwyn. The answer would come unexpected and out of nowhere.

The OAH and Naval intelligence had already reported that some loyal naval vessels had made their way to Lamoni for safety and safe harbor till things where figured out at home.

Imbrinium Embassy in Lamoni,

The day had been any other day with the uptick of intelligence officers trying to figure things out with the Morrdh naval ships now parked in port looking of any sign or word of the Queen or possible whereabouts.

A Lamoni government car pulled up which was nothing new there were always several different governments visiting the embassies in the areas. The difference was the two gentlemen in the vehicle one was from high up in the Lamoni government the other facial recognition software couldn’t place.

They Lamoni government officer asked for a personal meeting with the Crown’s ambassador after about a half an hour or so the two gentlemen were lead into the ambassador’s office.

“I’m ambassador Gaetano Mazzanti how may I help you today?”

The Lamoni official spoke and asked the ambassador that he was sent by the President of Lamoni to invite the Royals to a private performance of a play at the capital, and handed Mazzanti a letter with the information to be placed in the daily reports to the kingdom.

Cormond Castle, Cormond city
The daily reports didn’t normally come directly to the castle except for personal one on one correspondence with the Royal family. It was mid-afternoon the king sat down to catch up on correspondence of the day.

Marcius sat reading over some of the other information when he became upon the invite, reading it he noticed something interesting about the letter. The letter was subtly written it was an invite to the royal family which wasn’t anything new but prince Augusto’s name was written in bold text and underlined, which by itself was not a concern but strange none the least.

Marcius called for Augusto to his office and asked everyone to leave. Son, we’ve been invited to a private play in the Lamoni capital.

Father with everything going on I don’t think it’s something I’d be willing to go and do, I know you and mother would like me to relax and stop stressing but my future wife and child are missing we are at war with the Reich.

Son this has nothing to do with the war but I believe you need to read the invite and consider going.

Augusto took the letter from his father’s hand and read it then read it again and his face showed every emotion of a man in love of his family as he slowly sat down.

His hands started to shake and a tear rolled down his cheek.

“Son I’m sure you know something that I don’t know about the invite?”

“Father she’s alive the name of the play “Raven and he bear” her name was Raven given to her by her father for always being able to sit quietly and listen to stuff she wasn't supposed to when she was a little girl it was later used by her inner-circle of protectors when she was younger before taking power when her caretakers pasted away the name was never used again.”

“So she’s in Lamoni? That seemed likely intelligence had reported an uptick in extra security but couldn’t pinpoint if it was the war, the coup, or the queen.”

“Son I know you want to rush by her side but we have to do this right and not to draw attention to her or your visit”

“I know father but I need to be with her I need to protect her and our child”

“I know my son we will get you there.”

The king called for his advisor and called for the castles OAH advisor to the office, within minutes the two entered the office.

“How can we help you, sir?”

“We need to get to Lamoni unnoticed and unannounced, no high security no flags very undercover.”

“We sir?”

“Well the prince needs to make a low key appearance”

“We can do that sir, we have a normally scheduled flight to Lamoni on the SST to transport embassy personnel and mail there nothing new something that is done every week”

“Ok we need a personnel bodyguard and some very low key excuses”

“We will make them up and come up with a cover story”

Within hours the prince was in a secret location having his appearance changed with a fake beard and paperwork to blend in with the cover story of being SATCOM techs replacing some parts in the communication equipment at the embassy.

Lamoni Capital

The ambassador was informed to deliver a letter to the president of Lamoni regarding the invite of the royal family to the country. The letter said that while the family was thankful for the invitation under the current crisis within the central region that it would be impossible to attend the play. But the request for the new direct SATCOM system would be sent soon along with techs to install it on the next SST flight.

With the ambassador not knowing what was in the letter and having left after the direct handing of the letter to the president’s advisor, even if they read it things would seem normal letter.

48hrs later

The SST flight landed and the two Techs where should to a van with spare SATCOM parts in it. Having only two DSS agents in the know of what was going on. The personal bodyguard and a trusted former knight and SAS turned DSS agent stationed in Lamoni after falling in love with a Lamoni woman being the head of the Imbrinium school at the embassy.

Virgilio Castiglione was one of the most trusted members of the king and family protection detail, even after being asked to let go to join the DSS and be stationed in Lamoni to be with his love which was now his wife.

Castiglione had worked out the details quietly with the Lamoni’s on the link-up and meeting. After a four hour drive and changing vehicles. The time had come for Augusto to see Lothwyn.

Augusto was nervous but excited, the prince was still in disguise when they made it to where Lothwyn was being taken care of.

The Lamoni agents escorted the two into the room with the Queen, Prince Augusto spoke with a broken voice but was recognized by the queen but not the face when he spoke.

“I should’ve married you the first chance I got Lothwyn,” the prince said.

[Stevid]

RAF Grafton Common
Capita Global Communications and Satellite Complex


RAF Grafton Common was one of those unassuming air force bases that gather little public interest overtly, due to the distinct lack of aircraft that fly from it, but to those that drove past the base it was quite distinctive. Grafton Common was the principle provider of military satellite communications and data link sharing for Stevid Capita – the half-dozen golf ball shrouds that dotted the airbase reinforced the purpose to any observer. It was also one of a network of establishments for communicating with and tracking of allied and unaligned space assets, which included the Morridane Space Force. With the coup in Morrdh and the breakdown of relations with Stevid, the base was now a central nexus for the Pro-Lothwyn Morridane space assets in central Greater Dienstad. Similar stations probably existed in New Garrack, Imbrinium and Mordent, but Grafton Common was special in that it was where Space Marshal Cosgrove had established his base of operations following his landing at the base from orbit – the re-entry vehicle now stood on the three-mile long runway and had gathered a lot of public attention.
The primary control centre looked like something from some national space administration mission command room, and this was now where Cosgrove was plying his trade. His opposite number was Stevidian Group Captain Alicitta Lynes, though she was comparatively far lower down the rank structure to the Space Marshal and not a flag officer at all. She was, however, the commanding officer of RAF Grafton Common and, by extension, Communications Command - Capita (CCC) and thus became the Stevidian representative to the Morridane Space Force’s mission at the RAF station.

The two officer were watching events unfold on the huge display screen that stretched from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. It was focused over Morrdh Proper with several crisscrossing lines showing orbital trajectories of Morridane assets. Stevid had few in the area and what space assets the Empire did have paled in comparison to the Commonwealth’s, especially considering the systematic wiping out of almost everything by Imbrinium Great Dienstadii War and the ensuing Kessler Syndrome destroying most of the rest. Cosgrove had established full communications with his orbital assets via Stevidian means of communications. In practice, this was routine to accomplish, but in reality, it was a ground-breaking exercise of trust. In an instant, the Holy Empire had full access to the Morridane space based communications and tracking and identification of said space based assets. Assurances would have to be made to handle the information gathered sensitively. For now, it mattered little, and both Cosgrove and Lynes watched a particular white line representing a space vehicle cross a meridian not far for Morrdh. The control centre was bustling with activity and one airman was speaking into a tannoy system regularly with updates.

“Three minutes till launch.” It echoed.

Lynes spoke to Cosgrove but did not look away from the screen. “Are you sure this is necessary?”

“The only way to be sure.” He replied with a resigned tone. “We cannae allow Viktor access to the assets we ‘ave.”

“The method is still extreme. This will surprise many friends, it’s a miracle the course of action has been kept a secret thus far.”

“Assuming communications ‘aven’t been compromised?”

Lynes heard the comment as more of a jest, but she sensed some venom in the words. “Our communications are sound and secure, Space Marshal, you can be sure of that if nothing else.”

“Two minutes to launch. Banshee requesting confirmation.”

“He has it.” Cosgrove said confidently. “Proceed.”

There was a momentary pause before Lynes tried again, almost trying to convince Cosgrove out of the planned action.

“Chance of retaliation?”

“It’s there. Depends on the extent of Viktor’s hold on military assets.”

“OC?” Lynes said over her left shoulder, and her subordinate trotted over. “Send immediate word Field Marshal Kanus of the Fortress Wall. Tell him the operation is proceeding as planned and that the necessary city defence measures should, on my recommendation, be enacted.”

The officer saluted and darted away.

“One minute till launch. Banshee requested final confirmation.”

“He has it. Proceed.” Bellowed Cosgrove more assured than ever.

The noise from the radio transmission crackled and distorted but that could make out the voices of Lt. Commander Sean Collins of Banshee Flight and the flight commander. There were several seconds of tense silence before Collins’ count down began, and everyone in the control centre stopped to watch the main screen.

"Banshee Flight stand by to launch." Once again crackled the voice of the flight commander. "Five... Four... Three...Two... One... MARK!"

In the corner of the screen was an image feed showing the release of munitions, nuclear weapons destined for ground based Morridane space stations that Viktor could use to challenge space assets aligned to Lothwyn.

“Rifle, rifle, rifle.” Came the voice over the tannoy. “Payload away.”

Cosgrove turned to Lynes and nodded; she in turn spun around and delivered an order that no officer enjoyed doing so. “Flash, flash, flash. Theatre - Morrdh. Four devices. Retaliation possible. Precautions to be taken. Update to follow.”

The term “Flash, Flash, Flash.” Was the universal Stevidian military term for the launch or detonation of any sort of nuclear weapon in Greater Dienstad or vicinity to Stevidian assets. Around the Stevidian Home Isles and military units and installations close to Morrdh would repeat the term and immediately go to ground. Across the country’s military installations, air raid sirens began to whirr. Nuclear retaliation aircraft scrambled and government officials were whisked away to bunkers. However civilian sirens did not wail and would only do so once retaliation was detected.

“Now we wait.” Cosgrove said. Lynes said nothing, she felt ill at the thought of a nuclear exchange.
As the missiles soared away, communications were severed with the launch vehicle that confirmed the payloads had been successfully launched. Both Stevidian assets and Morridane tracked the missile now, as four white dots with a line streaking behind them. Anticipation grew in the control centre as the missiles inched closer and close to Morrdh, as they dangled directly over Mokatsana. Then one of the missile dots disappeared, then the second, third, and finally the fourth. The image feed from Banshee remained and no flashes of detonation were seen.

“Report!” Barked Cosgrove.

“Inconclusive, sir.” Came a response from somewhere. “Confirmed, missiles are gone. Clarifying…”

The noise in the room had risen again as airmen struggled to process what had happened and now began checking and cross referencing data from orbit to established what happened. Lynes breathed a deep sigh of relief, quietly happy there were no detonations. At the same time, she was no stranger to notion of mission success; as an officer, great emphasis was put on promoting mission success above all else – regardless of personal concerns. The destruction of the warheads was detrimental to the mission, which was now a complete failure. A third party actor clearly had not been taken into account, as it was believed that Viktor had no ABM capabilities to draw upon this early into the coup. It did not take long to trace back what had happened and eventually the blame laid squarely with Monavian anti-satellite-come-anti-missile lasers based on their own orbital units.
Lynes frowned; unaware Monavia had a stake in the coup. What stake they did have was evidently unimportant enough to escape the weekly intelligence briefs they received regarding the coup.

“Now what?” Lynes asked Cosgrove nervously.

* * *

The Citadel
Stevid Capita

Prime Minister Conroy walked down the lavish hall towards a section of Citadel, the seat of governmental power in the Empire, given over to the Morridane government in exile. To his left and right were towering pillars of stone with blood red drapes furled around them, and between each pillar with tapestries and painting depicting events and figures of Imperial history. Conroy did not need identification or even permission to visit the section given over to Stevid’s regional cousins, but he did so regardless - out of courtesy if anything else. Where security cordons and guards controlled access, Conroy went through the same processes as anyone else did when going to visit the Taoiseach. The decor was more or less the same in this part of mammoth, labyrinthine building, though more flags of the Commonwealth were present. The Stevidian flags, Conroy noted, had not been removed.

Conroy walked into Ser George Whittleton’s given office. It was huge; oak panelled walls with statues in the corners robed in flags. Around the walls were the odd painting, book case or ornament a top a waist high pillar. Above the paintings and bookcases, ringing the room, were coats of arms of noble Stevidian houses that formed part of the King’s Court. Whittleton’s equally impressive oak desk sate in front of an enormous glass window that was crisscrossed with faux-lead lining that transformed the pane into thousands of diamonds. Whittleton was laid back in his chair, reading a report but snapped up once Conroy was introduced.

“Ser George.” Conroy Greeted. “I’ll forgo the Stevidian formalities. I trust you’re settling in well?”

“Aye, well enough.” Whittleton replied. They exchanged some minor pleasantries before Conroy took a seat and made it known why he was there.

“There is a reason I’m doing this in person and not telephone, Ser George. The subject is delicate and should definitely not just be handled absently over the phone. The events in orbit are troubling, the coup by Viktor has left Morrdh paralysed, but now it is evidently clear that Commonwealth forces loyal to Lothwyn now can no longer project a nuclear deterrent against the usurper. This has been because of a third party state actor – we believe it to be Monavia. How this changes the dynamic, I am unsure. What I do know is that the Empire cannot allow an ally, in the midst of a civil war, be unable to access its nuclear capability. If Viktor controls ground based nuclear weapons, then there is nothing to stop him attacking Imperial possessions. Worse yet, should he know of Lothwyn’s location, he could strike directly with nuclear weapons without need of the Space Force.”

Conroy paused to give Whittleton his take on the situation. Conroy then concluded himself, what plans he had.

“The way I see it, we have two options open to us to prevent Viktor taking, holding, and using the Space Force ground stations. One; we invade. Stevid has two Air Assault Divisions available to this – that’s about forty thousand men plus equipment. Problem is, we can’t resupply them and two divisions would only be able to hold against Viktor’s forces for a week, maybe two before being overrun. The second is the most extreme, but it is what you were going to do anyway… You use Stevid’s nukes.”

There were a few seconds of stunned silence before Conroy continued.

“I’m told by the Admiralty, given the current situation, that an SSBN is some seven hundred kilometres east of Morrdh – HMS Eternal Wrath. The proposal is that we fire arm a missile with half six warheads and attack the bases again. Needless to say, I don’t agree with the use of such weaponry as a means to and end of achieving your goals. But we are aligned in that Viktor simply cannot be allow to wrestle control of the Space Force from the ground. Mokastana has stated that it will assume control of Pro-Lothwyn, and Pro-Viktor, forces alike in orbit under the auspices of the CCA. My government and I believes that, again, wrestle control of a credible military asset, for use against Viktor, from the legitimate government Commonwealth of Morrdh. I’m told that due to short range of the launch and the lack of credible intelligence Viktor has on Royal Navy submarine deployment, the Admiralty has guaranteed me a successful strike. It’s your call George, but bare in mind you would be getting a foreign power to launch a nuclear strike on your own country… how that sits with your people… I don’t know.”

* * *

Current Imperial Situation

In the opening weeks of the coup in Morrdh, the Empire found itself in a stronger position than initially expected. There was a consensus within the Imperial government that, despite a rocking recent history with the Commonwealth of Morrdh, the legitimate government headed by Whittleton was to be supported – but with war to be avoided at all costs. The accidental exile of the Morridane government to Stevid complicated matters and the Stevidian army garrison in Mordun found itself on centre stage during the coup. With the successful evacuation of the Taoiseach and the subsequent bombing of the local international airport, Stevid was thrust headlong into the coup. The garrison at Prince Royal Barracks was unable to evacuate and provision were not in place to extradite them In time, forces loyal to the usurper Viktor realised that the escape of both the Queen and the Taoiseach was down to, in no small part, the actions of the Holy Empire. Princess Royal Barracks was a soft military target and once forces loyal to Viktor surrounded the camp, Garrison Officer Commanding Colonel Fox presented his sword in surrender and Stevidian colours struck from the HQ flag mast.

The inability for Morridane forces loyal to Lothwyn to make dry-dock in their own home berths was problematic, the Enbarr being one of many Morridane ships unable to access key parts and materials for maintenance. Provisions were immediately made for Morridane ships to access Imperial berthing facilities local to them. Morridane ships local to Stevidian Home Isles would have free access to the facilities until Viktor was supplanted. The geographic disparity threw up more challenges, however. Eastern Stevidian South Greal was scarred and impoverished by Imbrinium scorched earth policy during the last regional war. Many military installations survived unscathed due to their use by occupying forces, but the surround and extended infrastructure was almost non-existent. Morridane ships were, thus, free to use naval refurbishment facilities on the east coast of South Greal but had to adhere to strict timetables and were only permitted for the most necessary of repairs of refuelling. The import of supplies, parts of technicians was then paramount, given the lack of local functioning industry and infrastructure. Everything had to be flown in via cargo transport – both military and chartered civilian. The same had to be done to stranded elements of the Morridane fleet in allied harbour, including the Enbarr. Specifically for the Enbarr, three cargo transports were sent to Lamoni with part and nuclear reactor technicians from Stevidian Battle Armaments and Equipment to help the maintenance aboard the carrier. The amount of transportation required in order to keep the east South Greali berths supplied would take up most of the Empire’s logistical force in the east of the region.

Military manoeuvres were also ongoing. Two air wings were being redeployed to better engage Morrdh Proper in the event of a wider military conflict. One wing was sent to east Stevidian South Greal with more in the way of electronic warfare, strike and air superiority aircraft. The second was to be sent to Imbrinium, with the Imperial government citing allegiance to the Triumvirate for the reason behind the deployment. Senior commander on both sides of the Sea of Crowns, however, knew full well that the deployment of the wing was specifically for long range strikes against Morrdh. The unit sent to Imbrinium was a strategic bomber wing comprised of the brand new XB-3 Percusser surgical strike bombers, and ZM-7L Dreadnought penetration stealth bombers.

Naval deployments were much more limited, as Imperial presence in the east of the region has still not recovered to pre-Great Dienstadii War levels. However, with the safe return of Queen Lothwyn to Lamoni and the transfer of responsibility to the Free Republican Navy, the East Greali Interceptor Squadron and East Greali Monitors that had been assigned escort duty for the transit through Stevidian waters returned to the original duties.

Another move that showed the Empire’s apparent belief that escalation was now inevitable, was the fresh deployment of 8 Air Assault Division (The Sirens) to eastern Stevidian South Greal together with its constituent sub-units. The division supplements that already on permanent deployment in South Greal, 7 (Greali Div) Air Assault (The Hellions). Both were put on a heightened state of readiness in preparation to deploy directly to Morrdh should the orders be given.

[The State of Monavia]

OOC Note

I found and corrected a few minor typing errors while reviewing my previous post on December 27, 2019. While doing research for this post, I discovered that I confused geosynchronous orbits with geostationary orbits and corrected that detail in my previous post on January 16, 2020. I have otherwise left my previous post unaltered.

---

Thirteen hours into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Kenway Heights, Mórrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh
Northeastern Greater Díenstad

With no way of knowing how his letter to Prince Viktor would be received, Ambassador Voltich and the attachés to whom he had disclosed his plan had ample reason to regard their courier’s mission with a certain degree of apprehension. Even if he safely made it to Mórrdun Castle, there was a substantial chance that Viktor or one of his subordinates would reject the ambassador’s proposal, or worse, ignore the courier outright. For this reason, the courier’s safe return left Voltich and his senior staff both thoroughly relieved and tense with anticipation.

Once the courier had a few minutes to refresh himself and answered the ambassador’s summons to deliver a private briefing, Voltich contemplated the potential implications of Viktor’s agreement to respond until his thoughts were organized enough to discuss his gamble with Minister Garmash. “Good afternoon, Minister,” Voltich began his call. “I have an update regarding the message I sent to Viktor Cathmore.”

“Go on.”

“My courier arrived safely at the Chancery and informed me that Viktor’s men delivered my letter to him. As a matter of fact, Prince Viktor made a point of speaking to the courier in person.”

“That’s splendid news!” Garmash burst out excitedly. “Has he offered a response?”

“Yes, he agreed to send an official response to my proposal once he has had some time to sort out the mess his coup has unleashed. Admittedly, the semi-committal way he responded allows him to claim that he genuinely wants to pursue a dialogue without having to commit to a hard-and-fast timetable, but I don’t think he’s going to risk alienating someone he might see as a potential source of outside support.”

“I agree. You’re already making plans for what you would like to say if you secure the audience you’re requesting, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“While you go about preparing for your meeting, you’ll want to think of a way to discuss the Mokan border closure. It’s all over the news since it’s wreaking havoc on their economy and endangering foreign investments in Mokan companies. Getting the border reopened will do us a lot of good in getting our allies to trust our approach.”

“That, and I have an even bigger thing in mind,” Voltich grinned. “Viktor made an explicit point of playing nice with the Ordenite Reich in his last broadcast. While I don’t know what his motives are, I suspect he’s dialing down Morridane pressure on the Reich’s interests in exchange for some sort of favor,” Voltich speculated. “Perhaps they have been secretly backing his coup for a while and now he has to give them some concessions in exchange.”

“I think you’re right. We can’t afford to let Viktor ally the Commonwealth with the Reich. The last thing we need is for the Ordenites to gain a foothold on our allies’ doorstep.”

“Can you just imagine that…an Ordenite ally and the PUF sharing a border?”

“God help us,” Garmash muttered sotto voce. “Our allies would never tolerate a pro-Ordenite government in this part of the region.”

“Not to mention what come next: Where Ordenite influence goes, Ralkovian influence follows, and we both know how hard it will be for us to keep the Commonwealth’s leaders friendly to us if the Ralkovians get to sink their claws into it.”

“Never mind what else they’re inviting by doing that.”

“Gothic meddling in Díenstadi affairs?”

“Precisely. I’ve seen countless intelligence briefings mentioning Kravenite shipping in the region, if only in passing—a sentence here, a sentence there, but it’s enough to tell that they’re collaborating with Ralkovia and the Ordenite Reich.”

“Do you think they’re behind any of this?” Voltich probed.

“No, but that doesn’t mean they’re not going to recognize this as an opportunity to expand their influence in the region. First they wait for the Commonwealth’s régime to invite Ordenite and Ralkovian influence, and then they’ll be able to influence Commonwealth policy by proxy. It’s a perfect scheme—too perfect to pass up.”

In the time it took for Voltich to blink, a flash of insight shot through his mind with a velocity sufficient to make him leap out of his seat. “Minister, I think I know what’s going on!” Turning towards a large map mounted on one of the walls, he mentally tagged the countries he has just discussed with his superior. “Let’s think about geography for a moment. Ralkovia is located in the region’s northwestern corner, the Ordenite Reich is located in the north, and Morrdh is in the northeast. They’re trying to form a chain of proxies encircling the whole region and use it to contain Díenstadi influence—”

“—or strangle it!” Garmash cut in, instantly agreeing with her ambassador’s calculation. “They’re drawing a noose around the entire region so they can tighten it around multiple fronts in case a cross-regional war breaks out. You know what this means for the future.”

“Of course. They’re going to keep drawing countries on this region’s borders into their orbit as opportunities arise. The only question we need ask is: ‘Which countries will they try to influence next?’”

“They’ll focus on places where the Ordenites and Ralkovians have already made inroads or are in the process of making them,” the minister theorized. “For instance, the Ralkovians still appear to be interested in meddling in Eitoan politics and have tried to geopolitically align themselves with Potthan.”

“What about Castille? I don’t think the current government-in-exile has much chance of retaking control.”

“Neither do I, but if Ordenite influence metastasizes here, there’s a chance they might have a strong enough position to attempt a restoration.”

“Since Commonwealth possessions include New Garrack, perhaps the Ordenites want Viktor to give them territorial concessions or basing rights there so they can threaten Stevidian South Greal on two fronts,” Voltich observed, “and Tuktar will no longer be a bone in their throat.”

“What if they want Viktor to hand over territory when he’s only willing to grant access, not cede ultimate control?”

“You mean a case where one side wants more than the other is willing to give?” Voltich laughed. “We both remember how crassly the Ordenites responded to our government in the past. Their leaders had a habit of construing gentle questions about the practical impact of their policy decisions as veiled belligerency. They’re just like leftist ‘progressives’ who say ‘agree with us one hundred percent or we will be your enemy’ every time they stake out a policy position, no matter how outlandish. If they fail to reach an accord, expect the same thing that happens when two criminal organizations have a falling-out.”

“I’m sure Viktor is smart enough to know what sort of nasty bedfellows the Ordenites are. If he cut some sort of Faustian bargain to get into power, he’s going to need an insurance policy to get out of it. Perhaps I can dangle an offer to sell him one in exchange for an agreement to do something that serves our interests. If nothing else, just getting him to entertain a proposal, even if he does not go through with it, might allow us a chance to see whether he’s playing a strong hand and we’d have some inside information we can offer our allies.”

“I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“As am I. Just the sheer scale of the allied interests Viktor’s coup is jeopardizing is reason enough to justify an attempt at finding out who his backers are, if he really has any. The stakes are just too high to keep playing without knowing what cards Viktor is holding. Besides,” Voltich remarked deviously, “if he’s relying on Ordenite support, I don’t think he’d want word getting out to them that he’s interested in sleeping with their enemies.”

✠✠✠✠

Following the ambassador’s conversation with Minister Garmash, Brodkin informed the mission’s legal, military, economic, press, and security attachés that Voltich wanted them to meet him in a conference room near his office at five o’clock that afternoon. When Voltich arrived to begin the meeting, he found the others seated around one end of an oblong conference table and Brodkin standing at the opposite end with a pitcher of water and several glasses. Upon taking his seat, Voltich found Captain Dugan nibbling on dried pretzels while Dr. Gessen was discussing his past legal work with Nelen and Horwitz. In spite of their divergent professional backgrounds—careers in journalism and military intelligence shared few parallels apart from an appreciation for asking the right questions—both women were over a decade younger than the ambassador and were still in the early phases of their careers at the time Voltich had received his present ambassadorship. Just after Voltich took his seat, the mission’s economic attaché, a petite, square-faced redhead named Karina Haskin, entered the room and sat down at Dugan’s right. As the youngest attaché of the bunch, Haskin’s career trajectory had unfolded during the same sequence of political changes that shaped the perspectives of the other women at the table.

The ambassador lost no time calling the meeting to order while Brodkin stepped outside to keep watch and shut the doors. “As all of you know, I sent a courier to Mórrdun Castle with instructions to make contact with Viktor Cathmore’s men and get them to deliver a sealed message to him. You’re also probably aware that the courier has returned.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Captain Horwitz spoke up. “I saw him drive through the front gate.”

“After the messenger completed his errand, he informed me that he got Viktor’s men to bring the message to him and that Viktor read it. In fact, Victor personally spoke with him and gave assurances that he’d give us a definitive response once he finished tamping down the chaos his coup generated. I subsequently spoke to Minister Garmash to inform her that Viktor is currently entertaining my request for a private audience, so our purpose here is to plan out the steps we ought to take in preparation for this audience if Viktor decides to grant it.”

“What’s our starting point?” Nelen queried.

“We need to find out what Viktor’s policy agenda is going to be,” Haskin answered, prompting the others to look her way. “Like any savvy revolutionary, he’s going to have to have some sort of plan for governing the kingdom once it’s under his control. If he has none, then he will have a hard time persuading the public to accept his leadership and there is little profit for us in offering him support.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Voltich responded, studiously avoiding all mention of Lieutenant Haskin’s FID rank as only he, Gessen, and Horwitz—Haskin’s DMI counterpart—had been granted clearance high enough to know about her role as an FID officer working under official cover. “Why prop up a king who has no vision for leading his country?”

“Why indeed?” Gessen concurred, nearly laughing. “I’m sure Your Excellency will make a point of inquiring about Prince Viktor’s domestic agenda so we can provide a report to Minister Garmash. At the very least, we should request copies of any manifestos Viktor’s supporters are circulating and any campaign literature they might try to use in case they try to get a more agreeable parliament elected.”

“Let’s address the geopolitical dimension,” Voltich pivoted, “Morridane forces have closed the border with Mokastana, resulting in a massive economic panic. Viktor has chosen to pursue a course of rapprochement toward the Ordenite Reich, a development that could bode ill for us and our allies. I want to address both of these matters during my audience with him, and if possible, address the claims he has made regarding the nature of the Commonwealth’s leadership.”

“I’ve spent a bit of time thinking about that last item,” Gessen commented pensively. “I’m not an expert in Morridane succession law, but there’s a chance that Viktor’s case might be weaker than he claims. If Queen Lothwyn is really illegitimate—unrelated to King Alfred, as Prince Viktor claims—and Prince Viktor had proof he could have presented to a court, then all he needed to do to stop her accession is file a lawsuit and force the issue through litigation, at which point the judiciary would make short work of her claim to the throne and those advancing it. If she’s truly unrelated, then the only way a man as powerful as her uncle would have been unable to make such a simple countermove is if he either found out the truth after the fact, or worse, Lothwyn’s partisans had control of the parliament and the courts, thus preventing a fair hearing from taking place. Since vast conspiracies are less likely to be true than simpler alternatives, I think it is likely that Prince Viktor’s claims are false and he is trying to push a conspiracy theory along these lines,” Gessen speculated.

“Let’s assume his claims are false,” Horwitz asked. “What then?”

“If Prince Viktor’s claims are false and Queen Lothwyn really is the daughter of the late king, then we get into a whole different can of worms. You can make an argument that Lothwyn could not legally become queen regnant at the time of her accession because the law of the land requires a regency in the event the crown devolves upon a minor. She was two years under the age of majority back then, but now, ten years later, she’s eight years over. If Viktor had a legitimate claim to a regency ten years ago, it has since expired.”

“Where does that leave him?” Voltich asked.

“As helpless as a beached whale.”

“Let’s say that Queen Lothwyn’s reign is legitimate and Viktor’s claim is past its sell-by date. What is this coup about besides politics and revenge?” Haskin commented. “Perhaps Viktor disagreed with Lothwyn’s policy agenda and came back to change the status quo…or perhaps he simply came back to settle his score and the Ordenites realized they could use his new administration as a vehicle for bootlegging their influence into the Morridane government in exchange for supporting his vendetta.”

“Or perhaps he’s a man of principle,” Voltich cut in. “Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Think about how much we and our allies around the region like to place the rule of law on a pedestal. If a shady cabal of usurpers ousted Viktor to put Lothwyn in power because she was impressionable enough to manipulate or agreed with their policies more than Viktor did, then the Commonwealth’s constitution is a dead letter and its power structure is whatever this cabal wants it to be. So much for the rule of law!”

“Your Excellency, Viktor doesn’t strike me as a man of principle. Men of principle don’t attack a peaceful city at night to snatch a pregnant woman from her bed.”

“Politics can be a filthy, complicated business, Doctor. Put yourself in Viktor’s shoes. Let’s say you’re up against a system—an entire ruling system—that can kill or exile anyone who opposes it for any reason or no reason at all, just so long as it finds an opportunity. If you ever have a chance to return and set things right, you can’t afford to take any changes. You’re going to have to burn down the entire system to drain the swamp it created, otherwise it will win and continue doing what it has always done.”

“Your theory is pretty contrarian, but there is an intelligible, if perverse, logic behind it,” Gessen acknowledged. “If shadowy oligarchs are using Queen Lothwyn as a figurehead to mask their own identities, then I can see how snatching her to use as a high-value hostage might force her handlers to act in a way that exposes them to public scrutiny, optics be damned.”

“Of course, Doctor, this theory of mine is not the only one I’m willing to believe, but it is one that we cannot afford to leave uninvestigated. That, more than anything else, is the main reason I want to advocate for its consideration.” Voltich leaned back in his seat and took a deep breath. “All right, we seem to have wandered a bit off topic. How would we like to tackle the Mokan border closure?”

“Cross-border trade accounts for a significant portion of the Morridane economy,” Haskin answered. “Keeping the border closed will hurt the economy and thus hurt Viktor’s public image. If you want to convince him to reopen the border, you’ll want to make this your central argument.”

“What if he argues that keeping the border closed is necessary to prevent Mokan militias opposed to his rule from entering the country and trying to undermine his new powerbase?” Gessen asked.

“That argument won’t fly very long. He’ll have to cut a deal with President Rodriguez at some point to keep both countries from racking up losses big enough to plunge them into recessions. Perhaps we can offer to help broker a deal if that makes both sides more comfortable.”

“Your Excellency, I assume you want to notify Ambassador Hoban that you are planning to broker a border deal with Viktor,” Gessen proposed. “She’ll want to be aware of this in case she has to speak with the Mokans.”

“I expect them to speak with her at some point, so I think she’ll appreciate being able to tell them that the Imperial Federation is already working to ameliorate the border issue.”

Gessen shifted gears again. “What about the Ordenite Reich? If Prince Viktor made any commitments with them, how do you propose to induce him to loosen those commitments?”

“I plan to furnish Prince Viktor with information that will give him some leverage against the Ordenites, such as documents detailing their collaboration with outside powers. I’m also going to have someone file a request with the FID to share intelligence on Ordenite activities with Viktor’s intelligence department. Maybe some of the information we offer is potent enough for Viktor to use to blackmail the Ordenites into cutting him better deals in the future.”

After several minutes of silently taking in the conversation around her, Nelen finally spoke up and made some points of her own. “Excuse me, Your Excellency. We need to consider a few other questions, such as the way we want this meeting to unfold. Viktor will probably seize on this audience as a means of legitimizing his newly-won position and exploit it for whatever gain he can.”

“That too has crossed my mind. I do not know which venue he might propose for this audience, but I intend to avoid going through with a formal credential presentation ceremony with all the trimmings. After all, I asked for a private audience, not a photo-studded affair. I’ll make that doubly clear to him if he starts offering me meeting locations.”

“What if he insists on a photo op…or a press conference?”

“They’re out of the question,” Voltich concluded, glancing at Dugan and receiving a nod of approval. “For security reasons, we’ll tell them, we’ll have to insist on avoiding media coverage to keep the meeting secret. Secrecy is necessary, we’ll explain, because there are a lot of people who have an interest in sabotaging the meeting.”

“What if he doesn’t buy the ruse?”

“He’ll have to, Captain,” Voltich assured Dugan. “It’s the truth.”

“How so?”Nelen asked. “I don’t see anyone trying to stop us from having a simple meeting.”

“Our allies have had a good working relationship with Queen Lothwyn,” Voltich explained. “Even if we are ultimately working in favor of their interests, they won’t appreciate us openly treating with the man who overthrew her—even if he is telling the truth about her status.”

---

Sixteen hours into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Mokastana City
People’s Unified Federation of Mokastana
Northeastern Greater Díenstad

Owing to the fact that Viktor’s coup could potentially have detrimental effects on Mokan interests, Monavian diplomats posted in Mokastana City had many obvious reasons for closely monitoring the coup and attempting to communicate with their colleagues in Mórrdun. Early attempts to make contact with the Mórrdun chancery were futile thanks to the communications blackout engineered by Viktor’s forces, so the diplomatic team stationed in Mokastana City was unable to obtain much news about the attack’s true nature until Viktor issued his first broadcast. With the Mórrdun Chancery’s communications restored, the two missions began an exchange of messages that culminated in Ambassador Voltich’s request to speak with the Monavian ambassador in Mokastana City, a fifty-year-old career diplomat named Natasha Hoban.

Ambassador Hoban had occupied her current post ever since Laura C. Cook had retired as Ambassador to the PUF in February 2020, so she had been stationed there long enough to grow complacent to the point of taking Mokastana’s internal stability for granted. Although Hoban had not yet found any reason to fear that a maelstrom of unrest might erupt in Mokastana City, the atmosphere of uncertainty and apprehension hanging over its people seemed tangibly heavy to her—but then again, she knew there was no way she could fault the Mokans for feeling as they did. The experience of waking up one morning to find a neighboring country in disarray with its sovereign missing and its borders closed would have jarred anyone at least a little, and more often than not it would have given the average bystander reason enough to justify a measure of panic, however transitory. With the Mokan president’s security council and other entities working to assemble a clear picture of the coup’s many dimensions and collateral effects on the region, any information Hoban’s subordinates could supply her would enable her to serve as an additional intelligence pipeline. The only question she had to consider was whether the intelligence she received would be still fresh by the time she shared it with them.

Ambassador Hoban’s conversation with Voltich was brief but detailed enough for her to understand his strategy. Hoban attentively noted her counterpart’s main points on a legal pad and used these notes to draft an official letter to Elizabeth Franshaw after the conversation ended. Before the hour was out, Hoban had a diplomatic courier delivering a sealed case to Franshaw’s office.

His Excellency Elizabeth Franshaw
Foreign Minister of the People’s Unified Federation
Mokastana City, Mokostan
People’s Unified Federation of Mokastana

Your Excellency:

I write to you at this time to offer you some urgent news concerning a number of developments that have arisen within the Commonwealth of Morrdh over the last few hours. First, it deeply pleases me to inform you that the Monavian diplomatic mission in Mórrdun is unharmed and that they have regained the communications capabilities they lost during the initial wave of bombings. Second, our ambassador to the Commonwealth, Stefan Voltich, has just informed me that his mission is working to observe the political situation in Mórrdun and send me any intelligence they are able to gather from their position. Finally, and most importantly of all, Ambassador Voltich has informed me that he believes it is the Imperial Federation’s obligation as an ally of the PUF to assist your government with the border closure issue that has arisen earlier today.

In regard to this final point, Ambassador Voltich explained that the he considers the reopening of the border an objective of paramount importance as every day it remains closed will negatively impact the economies of both countries involved and the political relationship between them. He therefore intends to request a meeting with Viktor Cathmore or one of his representatives to negotiate a reopening of the Commonwealth’s border with the People’s Unified Federation. He conceded that he cannot guarantee that he will find Viktor Cathmore’s new régime amenable to his proposal, but he believes that the issue is too important to abandon without making an earnest attempt.

Having offered Your Excellency the foregoing information, permit me to renew my past assurances that Your Excellency’s government will continue to receive my office’s highest consideration.

Very faithfully yours,

Natasha Hoban, Ph.D.
Ambassador of the Imperial Federation

---

At least two days into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Kenway Heights, Mórrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh
Northeastern Greater Díenstad

In the first thirty-six hours following the termination of the Chancery’s lockdown, the staff domiciled there executed numerous security protocols in anticipation of possible contingencies. Having observed no conditions that might indicate their facility was imminently threatened, the staff focused on measures aimed at improving the safety of their work environment and protecting vital data from seizure. Within a day of the coup’s initiation, a Monavian destroyer cruising through the Sea of Moka launched a vertical-takeoff UAV—in other words, a helicopter drone—off in the direction of Mórrdun to pick up a load of USB sticks containing files that the Monavians did not want falling into the hands of any foreign actors. Since the Monavians had established a history of using delivery drones to shuttle diplomatic pouches in and out of their chanceries over the last several years, Captain Dugan doubted that the UAV’s flight would arouse much suspicion. Nevertheless, he requested that the mission take place at night to minimize the amount of attention it garnered and the pilot who controlled the UAV was careful to maintain an average flight altitude of only forty meters.

Once the drone had alighted on the roof of the Chancery’s parking garage and Dugan had loaded its cargo on board, he retired to his quarters for a stiff drink while Dr. Gessen restlessly pored over the documents that Voltich’s aides had drawn up in preparation for an audience with Prince Viktor. Every hour the prince tarried before offering a response to Voltich’s message was an hour that could be spent formulating plans, gathering new intelligence, and seeking leverage to use in potential negotiations—yet at the same time, every hour he delayed his response increased the risk that new events might transpire in ways that could force Voltich’s hand. Neither side could afford to let this waiting game last long.

Once Viktor’s response finally came, Voltich called another meeting to inform his senior subordinates of the reply so they could plan their final preparations. Once this meeting was over, Voltich drafted a response of his own and had his courier deliver it to Viktor’s headquarters.

HRH Viktor, Prince of Morrdh
Mórrdun Castle, Mórrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh

Your Royal Highness:

It pleases me to report that I have received the message Your Royal Highness sent in response to my request for a private audience. I believe that the proposed meeting location at Fianna Hall will be suitable location for this audience and therefore accept Your Royal Highness’s offer to meet there.

I wish to bring four of my attachés to this meeting so that I can introduce them to Your Royal Highness and allow them to become acquainted with any subordinate officers of Your Royal Highness’s government which may be in attendance. Once these introductions and any dialogue naturally ensuing therefrom are complete, I would like to have a chance to speak with Your Royal Highness à deux as there are a number of matters that I have deemed most appropriate for discussion in a confidential setting.

With this focus on confidentiality in mind, I strongly desire that this affair be protected from the prying eyes and ears of the media and other parties which might stand to gain from interfering with our dialogue. These security concerns compel me to insist that we eschew activities that might draw undue attention to our meeting, such as a credential presentation ceremony or press conference. I trust that opportunities to engage in such pleasantries will arise when the Commonwealth’s security situation improves.

Having offered Your Royal Highness the foregoing information, permit me to renew my past assurances that Your Royal Highness’s government will continue to receive my office’s highest consideration.

Very faithfully yours,

Stefan Voltich, Ph.D.
Ambassador of the Imperial Federation

---

Immediately following the missile attack on Waremera

Orbital Defense Command Headquarters
Mt. Talus Complex
Imperial Federation of the Monavian Empire
Northwestern Nova

Having finally received an order to open fire on Banshee Flight’s missiles, the team on duty in the PLEIADES control room found themselves laboring in an atmosphere freighted with tension thick enough to make lesser souls faint under its weight. After confirming a target lock on the first of the missiles, the aiming technician cleared the firing technician to issue a computer command triggering the release of laser beams from about a third of the network’s ground installations. Seconds later, about two dozen of these installations sent the firing technician confirmation that had fired their 3 MW lasers in unison, thus channeling an exceedingly potent burst of energy through Pleione and a relay satellite before it impacted the first missile. With the control room’s displays reading TARGET HIT CONFIRMED, the aiming technician ordered the network’s targeting software to confirm a lock on the next missile so that this process could be repeated.

One by one, the missiles met fiery ends before they could even cross the Morridane border—and yet, the control team was even more nervously focused than they were when they began firing. The spacecraft making up Banshee Flight had not departed from the area in which they launched their ordinance and there was no way for the control team to tell whether they were capable of launching additional missiles. With the die now cast, they had every reason to anticipate that these craft might attempt to destroy the weapon they controlled—and that was one thing they had no intention of allowing. The control team rapidly reset the relay satellite’s aim at the Morridane fighters and requested permission to engage their newfound opponents, but in the time it took for their superiors to authorize another engagement, the fighters broke off their course and turned around. For now, at least, the situation would not escalate further.

Having successfully thwarted a nuclear attack, the mood within Orbital Defense Command turned universally jubilant. “Four shots, four hits, four kills!” the control team’s commander boasted once it was clear that the attack was over. Given the enormous gravity of their accomplishment, the control team knew they would find no shortage of comrades-in-arms jockeying to buy them drinks after they got off duty. They could tell the history they just made was fated to become a source of pride for ODC and the Imperial Federation’s armed forces as a whole. After all, what else could it have been, knowing that they just made a weapon system representing a tremendous investment of talent and tax revenue perform as admirably as its creators and operators could have expected?

ODC’s senior commanders and their staff knew exactly what else the PLEIADES array’s first use in combat represented. In authorizing its use, they had partially pulled back the curtain of secrecy their superiors were hoping to keep tightly drawn around one of their country’s most critical military assets in a situation that did not even directly threaten Monavian soil. Nevertheless, their superiors considered the prevention of nuclearized civil wars a strategic imperative, and therefore the system’s use in these circumstances may as well have been unavoidable. To complicate matters further, Orbital Surveillance Command informed ODC that some of the debris from the destroyed missiles might survive atmospheric reentry and land within Mokan territory, to say nothing of stray fragments that might make it across the Morridane border and crash inside the Commonwealth. Either way, some of this debris might start fires or contain toxic radioactive materials, and if that was the case, then ODC had just replaced a large, immediate crisis with a smaller, slower-moving one.

✠✠✠✠

As Banshee Flight began retreating to its home base and ODC’s Mokan and Stevidian counterparts scrambled to deduce the Imperial Federation’s motives for sabotaging the attack, a handful of IAF officers stationed in the facility’s command center filed into a conference room to discuss the results of their operation. Within ten minutes of the attack’s conclusion, a young, well-built IAF officer stepped through the conference room’s doors and stepped aside so a bald, stocky man could slip past him and receive the salutes of the others. As the facility’s commander, Captain General Andrew Bolton knew that each of the attendees had seen the same reports and came armed with the same facts, but he also understood that their individual perspectives varied enough to guarantee that each of them would interpret these facts in differing ways. Even if these meetings did nothing other than require his subordinates to acknowledge the differences between their perspectives, at least they helped discourage them from engaging in groupthink.

Once the officers took their seats around the imposing, coffin-shaped mahogany table that dominated the room, Bolton had his adjutant pass around a steel pitcher of water and some glasses so the others could refresh themselves as the meeting began. “Colonel Novakovich, I understand you just got missile trajectory data from OSC. Have they finally determined what the target was?”

“They think Waremera was the target, General.”

“Waremera? Isn’t that a major spaceport?”

“Aye. It’s the Morridane RSF’s main base of operations.”

“Do we know who launched the strike?”

“Surveillance data on the attack craft indicate they are likely Morridane Saigheads belonging to forces aligned against Viktor Cathmore. Given this information and the fact their flight took them over New Garrack, Castille, and Mokastana without meeting any resistance, we think they must have come from Tuktar?”

“Can they confirm that?”

“Not yet. Allied bases in Stevid are another possibility. The Holy Empire hosts a number of Morridane assets and I doubt they want Viktor’s coup to continue.”

“What about Lamoni?”

“They’re located too far south, unless they launched out of Omega and turned east after traveling north for a while.”

“Thank you, Colonel. Does anyone else have any theories based off the evidence we have so far?” Bolton asked, receiving half a dozen nos. “All right, I’m pretty sure we’re all proud of ourselves for getting those missiles shot down and stopping Alfegos II: Electric Boogaloo from opening in theaters this weekend,” Bolton joked in an attempt to lighten the room’s mood. “We were successful this time, but only because we got lucky. The attack was small and nobody counted on us to poke our noses into their plans. Next time—and there will be a next time, unless we act fast—we won’t be so lucky. The next attack will be much bigger, featuring more ordinance than we can shoot down, and they’ll be on guard for our counterattack. For all we know, whoever is behind this attack could be plotting to bring down our network.”

“Sir, we can enact emergency cyber security protocols if necessary,” another officer cut in.

“I appreciate that, Captain, but I’m more worried about direct physical sabotage. We need to reposition our assets so that anyone who’s thinking of attacking our satellites will be vulnerable to retaliation. If they see we’re willing to make them pay a price for attacking us, they’ll be reluctant to let this crisis escalate further.”

“Which assets should we reposition?” Novakovich queried.

“Start with the OKBN. Order all units to assume maximum readiness posture and have OSC send them coordinates for any launch sites trying to send missiles our way. Inform the Navy that their Empress-class ships should be placed on high alert in case they can help. They have antiballistic lasers on board so we should coordinate our operations with their crews is necessary.”

“I’ll get on it.”

“In the meantime, we need to let our allies know that if any of them were behind this attack, they had better understand why we did what we did. If we can talk them into forgiving our interference and leaving PLEIADES alone, perhaps we can salvage this situation for the long term.”

✠✠✠✠

In the wake of his staff meeting, Bolton briskly strolled back to his office as his adjutant raced to stay ahead of him. When the pair finally arrived at Bolton’s office, they entered a square room lined with wooden bookshelves on either side and set their papers on Bolton’s desk. With nothing more than a brief wave of his hand, the general motioned for his adjutant to step outside and shut the door while he began dialing a number he knew all too well. Seconds later, a soft voice replaced the dial tone. “This is Ministry of Defense Headquarters, how may I assist you?”

“This is Captain General Andrew Bolton, Imperial Air Force. Get me the Minister of Defense at once.”

---

Two hours after the missile attack on Waremera

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Mokastana City
People’s Unified Federation of Mokastana
Northeastern Greater Díenstad

Ambassador Hoban hated keeping others in suspense. In the days that passed since she sent Minister Franshaw her letter about Ambassador Voltich’s attempting to secure an audience with Prince Viktor to talk him into reopening the border, the news she received from the Mórrdun Chancery indicated that no substantive progress was being made on this front. Viktor’s insistence on keeping the border closed only deepened the harm that the Mokan economy had already suffered, and with no end to the border crisis in sight, the news pouring in from domestic sources like MNN was anything but cheery. Media personalities of every stripe were now predicting—undoubtedly with the help of leaks from well-placed sources—that the Mokan government was contemplating some form of economic retaliation. Hoban’s economic attaché predicted that the PUF and Commonwealth would start testing each other’s appetites for mutually-assured economic destruction to find out which side was willing to blink first and assumed the Mokans would begin by cutting the amount of strategically significant materials they exported to Morrdh within the next few days. With both sides locked in an ever–costlier impasse she felt impotent to resolve, Hoban foresaw this stalemate remaining a battle of financial attrition to the very end unless somebody moved to disrupt the status quo.

However diligently the ambassador’s attachés and their staff searched for evidence that such a disruption was coming, the first person to inform her that the Commonwealth’s civil war was about to turn hot was not someone assigned to her embassy or even affiliated of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs—but his transmission still hit her inbox like a bolt from the blue.

Ambassador Natasha Hoban
Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Mokastana City
People’s Unified Federation of Mokastana

Your Excellency:

IAF Orbital Defense Command (ODC) just contacted my office to inform me that they have thwarted an attempted nuclear attack against the Commonwealth of Morrdh. Approximately one hour ago, Orbital Surveillance Command (OSC) detected a flight of Morridane space fighters flying over New Garrack in the direction of Castille and Mokastana. As these spacecraft passed within detection range of OSC’s nuclear surveillance satellites, the satellites detected radiation signatures consistent with highly-enriched fissile materials—in other words, OSC had reason to believe that these fighters were carrying nuclear payloads.

Following the last Fegosian Civil War, ODC established a policy of raising the readiness posture of its missile defense assets whenever an allied country falls into a state of civil war in which multiple sides have access to nuclear, chemical, biological, or radiological weapons. Consequently, ODC has kept its assets prepared to interdict attacks using weapons of mass destruction in the hope of preventing the Morridane coup from devolving into something far more catastrophic. When OSC observed the aforementioned spacecraft launch four nuclear missiles in the direction of a Morridane installation (believed to be the Waremera spaceport), ODC interdicted the missiles in orbit over Mokastana.

Following the success of their interdiction operation, ODC received word from OSC that some remnants of these missiles might survive atmospheric reentry and land on Mokan soil. While they have not confirmed that this is the case, the act of downing nuclear ordinance over Mokan soil might potentially have adverse effects on Mokan security interests. In an effort to prevent this incident from straining the Imperial Federation’s relationships with its Delian League and Fegosian Union allies, I hereby advise you to contact the Mokan government and request an immediate audience with President Rodriguez by whatever means are available to you.

Sincerely,

Theodore Zubrod
Minister of Defense

Ambassador Hoban did not need to think twice about following Minister Zubrod’s advice. As efficient as sending a fax would have been, she thought her request was too sensitive to make by any means other than a letter hand-delivered by one of her couriers. Besides, the sight of someone showing up in person to present her message would send Elizabeth Franshaw an obvious signal that it was too important to set aside for later.

Her Excellency Elizabeth Franshaw
Foreign Minister of the People’s Unified Federation
Mokastana City, Mokostan
People’s Unified Federation of Mokastana

Your Excellency:

My government just sent me information about a security matter that merits President Rodriguez’s immediate attention. I therefore find myself compelled to request your assistance in securing an audience with the President at a time of his earliest convenience.

Having offered Your Excellency the foregoing information, permit me to renew my past assurances that Your Excellency’s government will continue to receive my office’s highest consideration.

Very faithfully yours,

Natasha Hoban, Ph.D.
Ambassador of the Imperial Federation

---

Two hours after the missile attack on Waremera

Office of the Minister of Foreign Affairs
Ministry of Foreign Affairs Building
Chalcedon, Capital District
Imperial Federation of the Monavian Empire
Northwestern Nova

As much as Minister Zubrod would have liked the Mokans to be the only people his country’s ambassadors needed to speak with, he was painfully aware that he needed to get audiences arranged with officials representing other Monavian allies that had an interest in the nuclear strike’s outcome. To achieve this end, Zubrod telephoned Minister Garmash to inform her of the attack and sent her a copy of the message he transmitted to Ambassador Hoban. Garmash lost no time sending copies to Ambassador Voltich in Mórrdun, the Monavian ambassador in Stevid Capita, Judith Trifunović, and the Monavian ambassador in Nephi, Roger W. Williamson. Within the space of one hour, all three sent messages out to concerned parties.

✠✠✠✠

Sir Ruixus Tictus, Secretary of State
Foreign Office, The Citadel
Stevid Capita
Holy Empire of the Kingdoms of Stevid and Rubet

Sir Ruixus:

Minister Garmash has informed me of an urgent security development that I must bring to Prime Minister Conroy’s attention. Please inform him that I seek an audience to speak with him at a time of his earliest convenience.

Having offered Your Excellency the foregoing information, permit me to renew my past assurances that Your Excellency’s government will continue to receive my office’s highest consideration.

Very faithfully yours,

Judith Trifunović
Ambassador of the Imperial Federation

✠✠✠✠

Hon. Tanya Ley, Foreign Minister of the Free Republic
Nephi
Free Republic of Lamoni

Minister Ley:

I just received word from Minister Garmash about a security incident that I must bring to the President’s immediate attention. Please contact his office to inform him that I seek an immediate audience.

Having offered Your Excellency the foregoing information, permit me to renew my past assurances that Your Excellency’s government will continue to receive my office’s highest consideration.

Very faithfully yours,

Roger W. Williamson
Ambassador of the Imperial Federation

✠✠✠✠

HRH Viktor, Prince of Morrdh
Mórrdun Castle, Mórrdun
Commonwealth of Morrdh

Your Royal Highness:

My government just supplied me with information about an attack that was organized against assets under your control. I hereby request an immediate audience at Mórrdun Castle so that my military attaché and I can brief Your Royal Highness about this attack.

Having offered Your Royal Highness the foregoing information, permit me to renew my past assurances that Your Royal Highness’s government will continue to receive my office’s highest consideration.

Very faithfully yours,

Stefan Voltich, Ph.D.
Ambassador of the Imperial Federation

---

Approximately one week into Viktor Cathmore’s uprising

Chancery of the Imperial Federation
Nephi
Free Republic of Lamoni
Southern Greater Díenstad

The facility at which President Stinson’s courier arrived was considerably larger than the Mórrdun Chancery, but its architecture was no less sophisticated than that of its Morridane counterpart. Upon passing through the Chancery’s front gates, the courier approached a staunchly-built limestone structure embellished with bas-relief pilasters, entered the front lobby, and ascended eight floors to the suite containing Ambassador Williamson’s office. Not long after delivering the President’s message, an aide handed the courier a sealed envelope with instructions to deliver it to him at Dearborne Manor, and by the time the courier left a train of cars began forming in one of the Chancery’s driveways.

Hon. Andrew Stinson, President of the Free Republic
Dearborne Manor
Nephi
Free Republic of Lamoni

Mr. President:

I have the pleasure of informing you that I have received the summons your courier delivered to my office today. I am further pleased to report that I will answer your summons and maintain the strictest possible confidence regarding its details. My motorcade is currently preparing to convey me from the Monavian Chancery to Dearborne Manor and will be on its way by the time this message reaches you there.

Having offered Your Excellency the foregoing information, permit me to renew my past assurances that Your Excellency’s government will continue to receive my office’s highest consideration.

Very faithfully yours,

Roger W. Williamson
Ambassador of the Imperial Federation

[Morrdh]

The Lamoni agents escorted the two into the room with the Queen, Prince Augusto spoke with a broken voice but was recognized by the queen but not the face when he spoke.

“I should’ve married you the first chance I got Lothwyn,” the prince said.

"Yes, ye should've." Answered Lothwyn. "Also, that beard looks stupid on ye."

"Oh tis nice ta finally see ye again." She smiled before adding. "Thought ye'd done a Fedor."

"Theres something I've been wanting ta tell ye." Lothwyn said, taking Augusto's hand and placing it on her belly. "Tis twins."

---

RAF Grafton Common

Cosgrave stared at the huge display screen for a moment, then spent a few minutes swearing loudly in Mordentish before calming down and taking stock of the situation. It seemed like they were to be denied delivering a single, knock-out blow against the space capabilities of the Usurper King Viktor. The Space Marshal knew the plan didn't sit easily with allied nations, but cold logic dictated that the Waremera base had to be taken out. Yet the vitally important strategic assets remained intact and in Viktor's hands, affording the Usurper the ability to launch weapon platforms into orbit and use them against forces loyal to Queen Lothwyn.

Viktor very much held the cards in this conflict.

"Now what?" The Stevidian officer gave voice to Cosgrave's thoughts; Indeed, what could they do now?

"If they aren't doing so already, order the fighters ta withdraw." Cosgrave answered, still staring at the big screen. "Last thing we want is ta cause an incident and hand Viktor international support."

The Waremera base would have to be dealt with through other means, now they had to focus on denying Viktor control of orbital space. They would have to be smart about this, no point in shooting at everything in orbit as that wouldn't win them any friends and risked a Kessler Syndrome. No, they had to be clever about this.

"Give me..." Cosgrave began as the genesis of an idea formed in his mind. "Give me wot intel ye have on wot satellites orbit above the region. Also, an inventory of wot we have in the way of jetpacks or EVA maneuvering units."

---

The Citadel
Stevid Capita

Ser George sighed, removed and folded the reading glasses he'd been wearing before rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked at his Stevidian counterpart and replied. "Stevid has shown us great hospitality in these trying times, a hospitality that I do not wish to abuse."

"It is true, and I fear, that Pandora's Box may have been opened by our abortive strike...time will tell regarding that matter." Continued Ser George. "Ta this end I can only accept yer offer as a last resort if all other options have been exhausted, I do not wish ta open the Box any more than it has been."

"Course it still leaves us with the question o' wot ta do regarding Waremera, though fer now it appears the answer would lie with more terrestrial means." Ser George stated. "It may be more prudent ta go with a strike conducted by low-flying aircraft, but it is just an option and the finer details still need to be worked out.

---

Fianna Hall,
Morrdun

Fianna Hall in Morrdun, much like its namesake in the Mordentish capital of Lindun, served as the home of the Morridane parliament. It contained the chambers for the Raven Court and Assembly, upper and lower house respective. The Raven Court hosted the representatives of the Morridane Clans and was named in honour of the Mordentish deity Badhgan, the so-called Raven Queen. Ravens had been used as messenger birds by the Kingdom of Mordent for centuries and the symbol of the raven had been associated with the role of messenger or speaker on behalf of another. To this end, the chamber heavily featured ravens in its decoration and boasted a statue of a cloaked maiden with a raven perched on her shoulder.

Sat alone on one of the benches of the chamber was Viktor Cathmore, lost in thought as he awaited the Monavian delegation. His position was mostly secured now, though round a third of the military had either mutinied or deserted. Though the rest of the Commonwealth's military was still suspect at best when it came to loyalties, though these matters would be addressed. What bothered him more was news that his niece may have fled to Lamoni, effectively beyond his reach. Though perhaps not beyond that of the Monavians he was about to meet.

A heavy thump of the wooden doors of the chamber opening interrupted his thoughts and he got to his feet as a group of people entered. As he walked down the steps towards the chamber's floor, he called out. "Beannachtaí duit! I am Viktor Cathmore, Ard Righ or High King if ye will."

[Stevid]

The Citadel
Stevid Capita
(Meeting with Whittleton)

Conroy listened intently to the Ser George’s reservations to using more nuclear weapons, a course of action he actually concurred with. There were many within parliament still aggrieved by the “Morridane Betrayal”, as they called it, during the last great regional war. Conroy had been a pains and odds to convince the partisan House that it was a different administration, a different Taoiseach – that the Commonwealth of today was not the same as that in recent past. Regardless, the Empire kept its commitments until it was very clear they were over, and Morrdh had ever been an ally of the Empire despite the fraught relations.

“Nonsense, you may stay as long as you feel is necessary. I believe that is the best decision. I have no qualms in launching nuclear weapons, but I see them more as a way to end wars rather than a means of fighting them. The conventional approach remains open to take them by force. As I said, you have two airborne divisions, and you also have a sizable wing of interdiction fighters and bombers.”



The Citadel
(Prior to meeting with Ms Judith Trifunovic)

Conroy sat in his own office, which in truth was more a stateroom room than an office. Ornaments, paintings, swords, suits of armour, and shields lined the walls. It was practically a museum and it made him feel comfortable. A fire blazed in a huge fireplace and the Prime Minister welcomed the warmth as heavy winter rain lashed his window that peered out high over the Citadel providing a breath-taking panoramic view of the fortress city. He reclined back in his chair mussing over economic figures for food imports and other domestic agricultural issues when there was a knock against the heavy oak double doors.

“Yes, come in!” He said. A porter opened the door and following behind was another all too familiar figure.

“The Foreign Secretary, Prime Minister.”

“Ah Sir Ruixus!” Conroy beamed, only to happy to ignore the agricultural reports. “Thank you for coming, always good to see you.”

“Likewise, Prime Minister.” Sir Ruixus Tictus said, nodding thankfully to the porter who then hurried away.

“Drink?” Conroy asked whilst crossing to a well-stocked drinks cabinet. “It’s late and it’s cold out.”

“Yes, sure, whatever your having.”

“I usually have port this time of night, but I reckon I’ll need a stiff whiskey or brandy.” Conroy said jovially as he poured them both two tumblers. He crossed to in front of the fire and handed a glass to Sir Ruixus. “The Empire…”

“The Empire.” Sir Ruixus replied to the toast, half raising his glass with a nod. After a sip he sat in an armchair that faced the fire, a second one was nearby with a table separating the two and Conroy settled there.

“So, what’s this about Ms Trifunovic, then?”

“She respectfully requests an audience, though her communique states that it is related to security issues and no allusion to anything else. The ambassador is pencilled in for an annual formal discussion on issues affecting our relationship in three months’ time, therefore the topic is likely serious enough to not wait until then – which narrows the subject down considerably.”

“Morrdh…”

“I believe so, Prime Minister. Speaking of which, how is our ‘guest’?”

Conroy raised an eyebrow and cocked a smile. “Very well, all things considered – we’ve had productive discussions.”

“Any that revolve around how long they plan on staying?” Sir Ruixus asked, trying but failing to hide the bitterness in his tone.

“Now, now.” Conroy chided softly. “Your dislike of them is well known, you need not emphasise your point. So, Monavia… they wish to discuss the situation in Morrdh. Tell me what you expect.”

“It is all but confirmed that the Imperial Federation intercepted the Morridane warheads a few days ago. Believe Judith will go on record with that confirmation to you directly. Given the nation’s previous experience with having to deal with nuclear conflict within civil wars, it is reasonable to believe that they will petition us to move in alignment with them, in that nuclear weapons should not be used tactically in order to gain an advantage over the Usurper.”

“Well, I had the conversation with Ser George about that. Seems he’s happy for our support but only as a last resort. They seem to favour the conventional option, which, of course, I support.”

Sir Ruixus sighed in exasperation. “A few lasers and underlying threat is all it take to quash the Commonwealth’s resolve, it seems.”

“I don’t see it like that, Ruixus. But… there is some merit behind that assessment. This conflict is drawing in some very big players. Morrdh is weakened but has full military capabilities indirectly. The interference from Monavia changes the dynamic, and this exercise of hard power is unnerving. I admit, I expected a firmer military response to the warhead interception. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Imperial Federation sends their representative to meet Ser George.”

“If their direct involvement is anything to go by, then I would not be surprised if that were true.” Sir Ruixus said sternly. “I feel that we have more to worry about in terms of their soft power than military power.”

Conroy shifted uncomfortably upright in his chair. “You think they will try to persuade Ser George towards a certain course of action – in line with their goals?”

“Possibly.” Ruixus said almost dismissively. “I’m not sure they have any specific goals beyond moving this civil war away from the nuclear option and then away from kinetic engagements. But if Morridane reactive military forces can be so easily dissuaded from action by the mere presence of Monavia, imagine what they could do diplomatically. They are no small fry, and seemingly have a vested interest in this beyond the narrative of the ‘Great Mediator’ or ‘Great Protector of Peace.”

Conroy scoffed in amusement and finished his drink. “Another?”

Ruixus nodded and Conroy brought the whole decanter back this time. As he paused sky beyond the window flashed bring the massive towering cityscape into sharp contrast, a rumble of thunder came shortly after.

“Getting worse.” Ruixus said.

“Winter is always hard here. So, anything else about Judith I should be aware of?”

Ruixus shrugged. “I’m uncertain. I will wager that they will try to gauge the level of support we are giving the Pro-Lothwyn cause. I doubt nuclear weapons will dominate the discussion, but I am convinced they will try to dissuade our using of them. The strategic picture is likely to be of a greater concern. With Krasnova and the Tuktar city-state between South Greal and the rest of the Empire, we have a vested interest in seeing a pro-Stevidian government in control of Morrdh. Best we not air our suspicions of Ordenite involvement.”

“Suspicions are all they are, Ruixus.” Conroy sighed. “The SIS have yet to bring me anything concrete beyond superstitious rumour. If it is not good enough for me then it will not be good enough for Ms Trifunovic. Regardless, I will be frank in that Morrdh has the Holy Empire full and unequivocal support, politically, economically and militarily. A good diplomat will read between the lines.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Prime Minister.”


The Citadel
(Meeting with Ms Judith Trifunovic)

The meeting with Judith Trifunovic, the Imperial Federation’s ambassador to Stevid, was in the same office, though far more formal than the briefing Conroy had received from Sir Ruixus the previous evening. A civil service personal secretary and cabinet secretary were present with Conroy from the meeting, which would be documented and minutes taken. Food and drink was laid on nearby, but given the topic in hand was serious and the meeting had been conferred at the last minute it was unlikely to be enjoyed.

The porter knocked on the door and announced the arrival of Judith Trifunovic. She walked the lengthy room towards Conroy’s desk and the greetings began. Conroy placed a hand to his heart, half bowed and began.

“His Will, Ambassador Trifunovic, welcome to the Citadel.” They shook hands and exchanged the usual pleasantries. “Well Judith, the fact that our next meeting is a few months away gives me great cause for concern regarding this one. The Foreign Secretary tells me it is security related; given the state Greater Dienstad seems to be perpetually in, I’m not surprised… but something tells me this has more to do with Viktor’s recent ascent to the throne, and the disappearance of Queen Lothwyn, than anything else. So… what can the Holy Empire do for the Imperial Federation today?”

[Mokastana]

OOC: Responding in chronological order for ease of timeline

---

The day of Viktor' coup

Foriegn Minister Elizabeth Franshaw had, through military and civilian traffic, negotiated allowing of the PUF navy to evacuate Federal civilians and foreign ambassadors from Morrdun. The PUF ambassador had already fled and was onboard a Submarine heading home, but there were still plenty of civilians trapped in the city. The following message had been broadcasted on any civilian frequency the navy could find:

"THIS IS THE FEDERAL NAVY OF THE PEOPLE'S UNIFIED FEDERATION, WE ARE ON APPROACH TO EVACUATE THE FEDERAL EMBASSY. ANY ALLIED OR NEUTRAL EMBASSIES MAY REQUEST AN EVACUATION TO MOKASTANA CITY."

A few foreign embassies even took them up on the offer and their staff would be sent back to Mokastana City where the Foreign Ministry got them flights back home if desired. Others would stay with their own embassies in Mokastana. As this went on, Elizabeth stayed awake in the Security Council room following the status of the evacuation. All messages from foreign governments during the crisis were handled by her staff, with many delayed as her focus was on the evacuation and concerns there of. It may have been a military operation, but it had intentional relations all over it.

Of the few non evacuation messages that made it to her, one was from the Imperial Federation of Monavia, which had only been allowed past the filter because it mentioned contact with Viktor's new "government". It was a few hours old by the time she read it, coffee in one hand and the print out in the other. The Imperial Federation had their diplomatic mission still opened, and offered to find a solution to the closed border. Given that war was still a strong possibility, Elizabeth didn't want to begin long term talks just yet. The current civilian evacuation was intended to limit the Federal casualties in the event the PUF Navy was needed to assault the city. The border could wait until the Security Council knew if this war was going to get hot or cold. Still, with her embassy currently serving as a refugee shelter, and her Ambassador on a submarine, it might not hurt to have an official channel to the rebel government in the event of a cold war.

Her actual response would be slow, waiting until the civilian evacuation was completed. With no word on the location of the Queen, or any political leader from her government found, it was becoming clear this war was not going to kick off tonight. The Federation had accepted what military and civilian refugees made it to Federation, but without the Queen's government to turn to, they had few options without Parliament's consent. An emergency session would be happening tomorrow. How long it took them to decide on what to do, was, quite literally, up for debate. Realizing she had nothing useful to say back to the Monavian government, but saying nothing would seem like a snub, she slept on deciding how to respond. Tomorrow morning, she responding to them a priority.

Her Excellency Natasha Hoban, Ph.D.
Ambassador of the Imperial Federation
To the People's Unified Federation

Dr. Hoban,

It is good to hear that Monavian diplomatic mission in Mórrdun is unharmed. As you may be aware, yesterday evening the People's Federal Navy was actively evacuating any civilians or diplomats who wished to escape the horrors of war from Morrdun. I cannot say for certain how many Monavian civilians took up the evacuation offer, but those that did, will be escorted to your embassy in Mokastana City later today if they so wish.

As for your offer of negotiating a re opening of the border, I can only say that the Federation has not closed the border on our end, and anyone crossing it is welcomed to continue business or claim refugee status as desired. If Viktor allows travel across it, it may limit the economic impact on our shared economies, but a negative impact is expected.

The Senate will meet later today to begin discussions on how to handle the crisis in Morrdh. However, I do not expect them to recognize his government at this time. Any trade across the border will have to continue to follow previously established agreements and law as Viktor's government is not currently recognized by the Federation.

In the event the border remains closed, the Federal Government will exercise its rights to assume control of economic activity. I say this not as a threat, but as a matter of fact. Negotiations to open the border again are preferred for the moment, but I cannot promise much on my end without Senate Approval. I wish you luck in this endeavor

Elizabeth Franshaw
Foreign Minister
People's Unified Federation

---

Hours after the missile attack...

Two hours after the failed missile attack on Waremera, Elizabeth Franshaw found herself once again in a Security Council meeting regarding the events that had occurred. The President of the Federation was preparing a speech, the Space Marshal was assuming control of space assets and eyes turned on the Monavians as they questioned their motives. As if on request, a courier arrived with a hand delivered message for Elizabeth from the Monavian Ambassador. Taking a short break to read it, and taking m recognizing that the Monavians were the ones who intercepted the missiles, the matter was brought to the Security Council's attention. The ambassador mentioned a security concern that required immediate attention, but the President was already planning a speech in a few short minutes. It was decided that Ambassador Hoban would be invited to the Presidential palace immediately, but things would continue as planned.

Assuming the Ambassador accepted the invitation, a car would take her to the Presidential Palace where she would be led into a nice looking lounge, and told to wait a few minutes for the President to be ready for her. Among the security guards, billard table and bar, a television played MNN, which soon showed an image of the Federal Seal, as a voice in Mokan Spanish explained they were about to show an address from the President of the Federation. Then the screen flipped to Ben Rodriguez, sitting behind his desk, speaking in Mokan as translations to Common and Aniuen scrolled across the bottom of the screen. He blamed the rebels for intercepting the missiles, and spoke of assuming control of the CCA. Responses to the border closings were addressed, meaning the Federation was getting ready for economic war. Once the speech was over, the screen flipped back to MNN where pundits began discussing the implications of the speech, what economic powers the government had, and how the suggested plan might unfold. As they spoke, a runner entered the lounge. "Ambassador Hoban, the President is ready to see you now. Please follow me."

She was led into the same office she had just seen on TV, only without the television equipment one would expect after a live broadcast, clearly it had been recorded earlier and only now released for viewing. With the President was a few members of the Security Council, including Elizabeth Franshaw. The President spoke first.

"Welcome Ambassador, I apologize for the theatrics, but I wanted you to know what is going on before we met, and giving you a chance to view the speech in real time was the best way to do it. Now, what in particular did you have for me?"

---

Rosewell Space Command
Two days after the missile attack on Waremera

Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron sighed. It was his duty to defend the Federation from all orbital and interstellar threats, but it didn't mean they didn't frustrate him with their legalese and other such nonsense. Senate Bill 489.12F "Approval of military action in support of Lothwyn Cathmore and Federal Allies in The Commonwealth of Morrdh" tied his hands when it came to actions he could take. A few politicians argued whether his action in assuming control of CCA assets in orbit was technically legal or not, but his argument was that CCA agreements allowed Roswell to act as Command and Control in the event of crisis. The wording wasn't clear on what counted as a crisis, but it created enough political confusion finding the line between CCA and PUF leadership that he could keep Parliament off his back for awhile. However, his next proposal was clearly in the Terrestrial realm, where Parliament, and even Viktor, had more power.

He wanted to deploy Federal Space Infantry to occupy Waremera directly. If he played his cards right, military occupation of the space port could be used to convince Viktor that the Queen won't nuke it and thus end relations with the most logical invasion point, and allied occupation of the Space Port would prevent it from being used by Viktor's forces. Since an attack on the Space Port would be, theoretically, considered an act of war by the Federation. First, he had to contact Space Marshal Cosgrave with his proposal. If he could get Cosgrove to approve the plan, in the name of the Queen, he could begin OPERATION SAN PEDRO.

To: Space Marshal Cosgrave
From: Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron, Rosewell Space Command, People's Unified Federation

Given the necessity of the Queen's government to deny rebel forces access to Waremera, the importance of Waremera to the future of the CCA, and the desire of Viktor to maintain cordial relations with the Federation, I would like to propose occupation of Waremera by PUF space infantry. Officially, PUF space forces would be on loan to the CCA, making this occupation a CCA operation. I request approval from the Queen's government so that this action cannot be challenged by my government, as it complies with Senate Bill 489.12F

Long live the Queen,
Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron

[United World Order]

Ramarck International Airport,
Western Morrdh,
Eastern Dienstad.

The jumbo passenger airliner started it's descent towards the tarmac at Ramarck International Airport in the dead of night. Along the side of the airliner was the name of a non-existent airline company that while it technically did not exist a paper trail was made to make watching eyes believe the company was real. The company was said to be based out of Wanderjar which was how the true intentions of this flight and others like it were concealed. While an official declaration of recognition of the new High King of Morrdh, Viktor Cathmore had not been done by the Ordenite Reich it had been covertly supporting the seizure of power since the beginning. Fifty thousand men of Scythian descent had been originally sent as part of the main force that seized the capital of Morrdh and now as other regional powers began to pay close attention to the events happening in Morrdh and even try and undermine Viktor Cathmore, more soldiers were now being sent. Kampfgruppe Morrdun was created and formed after the incident at the Waremera space port facility and with the new regime in Morrdh desperate for additional military manpower and the fact that Cathmore was still in power, the Ordenite Schutzstaffel had decided to pledge more support. The Kampfgruppe was comprised of contractors from an Ordenite PMC operating out of Tarn. Over 15,000 were to be flown in through stagnated airline flights into Ramarck International mostly during night time hours and would then report to whomever Viktor Cathmore had as the Morridane military attache.

The passenger jet touched down on the tarmac of Ramarck International before coming to a complete stop in the dead of night. The men began to funnel out of the plane with their equipment and weapons as their boots hit Morridane soil for likely the first time ever. In the coming days another twenty two flights would come in to Ramarck International from Tarn, Holy Panooly and with it would come the manpower Viktor Cathmore would need to keep his new regime secured from foreign and domestic enemies.

[Lamoni]

Lamonian Indomitus class Space Station, “Accipiter One”

In orbit over the region of Greater Dienstad, those with the means to watch space could hardly miss the construction, and subsequent activation of Accipiter One, the first of a new series of Lamonian space stations. As far as had been publicly proclaimed to the rest of the region, the main purpose of the station was to conduct scientific experiments in space, as well as keeping track of any debris left in orbit from that time when the Kingdom of Imbrinium had shot down every satellite over the region. In truth, while the station did indeed play host to numerous scientific experiments, and did indeed transmit information to the region about space debris, that was not all that it had been intended for. The station also hosted radar, visual, IIR, ELINT, COMINT, and other sensors conducive to making the station an excellent addition to the capabilities of the Lamonian Intelligence Community. Only The Holy Marsh knew about this part of the station’s operations, and this via a joint operation agreement with the Church, which saw Marshites working side by side with their Lamonian counterparts. Indeed, the station’s second in command was a Marshite, while the station’s commander was a Lamonian.

So it was that Accipter One detected the Morridane space craft as they made their strike run toward the CCA command center, and launching weapons that upon closer examination appeared to be nuclear weapons. While strike runs on the region from space would merit a report to both respective Governments any day, the fact that nuclear weapons were being used generated a priority report, complete with a predicted point of impact for the weapons, and the attackers. While not heavily so, the station was armed with both explosive as well as kinetic energy missiles, intended both for clearing out space debris that might pose a threat to the station, as well as for defense. Though it was too far and too late for the missiles to intercept the space-launched nuclear weapons, they could track and attack the space craft that had fired them. As the commander was about to give the order to fire on the attackers, instrument panels in the station’s command center lit up as a laser was detected. Fearing a possible attack from two directions, the station commander held off on launching the missiles, wanting to know where the laser was being fired from, and at whom it was being fired. The second part of that wishlist was fulfilled in less than a second, as one by one, the nuclear weapons were taken out by the laser. The station’s computers had backtracked the laser’s path back to its source, which was listed as a Monavian satellite. Transmitting this information to both governments, orders came through from the Lamonian government, instructing the commander not to fire on the Morridane craft, but to use his station’s own sensors to get a better idea of the capabilities of their allies’ laser satellite. This was going to be a very busy day for the crew of the station.

Nephi, Lamoni

Once on Lamonian soil, the two “SATCOM technicians” and any escorts were escorted to a dark colored SUV, which then drove off on a route designed to look like it was heading toward the Kingdom of Imbrinium’s embassy, before taking a sudden turn towards Dearborne Manor, the route having been chosen in order to allow other Special Protection Service operatives both in vehicles as well as on foot, the chance to tell if the vehicle was being followed. “Welcome to the Free Republic, your Highness,” the SPS agent in the vehicle’s passenger seat stated, “we will have you over to the Manor once we make sure that no one is following us. In the meantime, please feel free to partake of the refreshments in the mini-fridge, we have bottled water, some hard liquors from around the region, as well as various fruits and nuts.”

As the vehicle meandered through the city, several things became apparent. Firstly, there were few single-family houses in view, but many tall skyscrapers that contained apartments of many types. Further, each neighborhood seemingly featured a different style of architecture, but they strangely seemed to blend into and complement each other, where they intersected. Parts of Imbruminian, Stevidian, Macabeean, Marshite, Ralkovian, Mokan, Morridane, and other architectural styles could be seen along the route that the SUV took. Even more skyscrapers had large amounts of verdant green plants that could be seen within them, these particular skyscrapers being designed to let in even more natural light than the others. As they moved along, the SUV would pass a school, where school children could be seen playing happily amongst the playground equipment, some chasing each other while others co-operated to play various games, and others demonstrating playground fits of strength on the various pieces of playground equipment. Adults could also be seen, but their attentive eyes were focused on the children, ensuring that none of their precious charges were harmed in any way.

Another hour, and several checkpoints later, the Lamonian Marine guards allowed the SUV onto the grounds of Dearborne Manor, the driver stopping the vehicle on the driveway, near several other vehicles that were parked near the front entrance. A Marine General in field uniform opened the door for His Highness after a quick look at his troops, saying, “Welcome to Dearborne Manor, your Highness. I am General Lyttelton, commander of the 5th Infantry Division, Lamonian Marines, and the officer in charge of Her Majesty, Queen Lothwyn’s security detail. If you’ll follow me, i’ll take you right to Her Majesty.” Stepping back to allow the Prince to exit the vehicle, the General led him toward the Queen’s bedchambers, being properly attentive to any questions or comments that the Prince might make along the way.

Lamonian Embassy, Morrdh

With events going bad in Morrdh, the Lamonian embassy there had burned all classified and non-essential papers, after scanning them, and transmitting them back to the Lamonian mainland via encrypted military satellite, along with all of their digital records. This ensured that if the embassy was attacked, no useful information could be found by the attackers. Interestingly, the encryption for these satellite transmissions was based on the physics and mathematics of the Kessler debris caused by Imbrinium some time back, and super-enciphered via a Supersingular isogeny Diffle-Hellman key exchange protocol, which would make the encryption resistant even to those attempting to use quantum computers to crack it. Similarly, all use of non-secured communications had been banned for anything having to do with official business, with only certain exceptions.

One of these exceptions had been to inform the Mokan Navy that the Lamonian Embassy would take them up on their offer, evacuating non-essential staff and dependents from the embassy. While it was not thought that whomever was attempting to take charge would harm diplomats or their dependents, it had been ordered that only the essential diplomats would remain, along with the intelligence agents with official cover. There were international laws against harming diplomats, and the Lamonian Government would be receiving regular updates from the embassy until different orders came in.

Lamonian Government

Things had certainly been busier than normal in the Lamonian Government, of late. Firstly, there had been an incident in space regarding Morridane space fighters attacking a CCA command post on their own soil with nuclear missiles, only to have said missiles be intercepted by a Monavian laser satellite. Then, a message had come in from the Monavians, requesting a meeting with President Stinson on an urgent matter. The meeting had of course been granted, there were a few things that the Lamonians wanted to question the Monavians about as well, and this presented the perfect opportunity. A missive of response had been dispatched to the Monavian Government via their embassy in Nephi, via the Lamonian Foreign Minister, working out a date and time that would work for both parties.

Finally, a certain Viktor Cathmore had managed to pull off a coup in Morrdh, forcing Queen Lothwyn to come all the way to Lamoni on the Morridane Navy’s newest and most advanced aircraft carrier. Moreover, the Morridane carrier group was being escorted by ships of the Stevidian Navy. Two long-time allies of the Free Republic working together to get Queen Lothwyn to safety in the Free Republic was no problem, and while it was doubtful that anyone would attack them on the way, ships of the Lamonian Navy were made ready, the 5th Division of the Lamonian Marines were instructed to set-up both ground and air defenses around Dearborne Manor, which had been activated for the occasion, and the Lamonian intelligence community had been given orders to find out any information that they could on Viktor Cathmore, the coup, and anything else that might be of use in this situation.

After Lothwyn’s arrival

Having received and acknowledge the Monavian diplomatic missive that they knew where to go, and the why of it, President Stinson boarded an LAF helicopter, and was flown directly to Dearborne Manor, two LY-909 Sparrowhawk multi-role fighter aircraft acting as escorts in the unlikely event that there was any trouble. Once the helicopter landed, the two fighter aircraft would take their place as the LAF’s contribution to the safety of Queen Lothwyn and the Lamonian Government’s other official guests. The Lamonian Government was taking no chances with the safety of their guests.

[Mokastana]

Morrdun
City Center

LY47 sub machine guns, LY20 rifles, Saiga-12 shotguns, LY46 and JD45 pistols, plus a handful of widowmaker grenade launchers. The few weapons, ammo and prepackaged meals they had were lined up against the wall of the small warehouse. It wasn't much, but it was certainly enough for the small group of Federal soldiers amassed here. In charge was Division Colonel Alberto ‘Burt’ Marquez of the Embassy Defense Group, with him was Major Tomas Mescalero, of the Blue Frogs, 3rd Naval Infantry Division. Nearly 30 of the PUF's most elite special forces were ready for combat. The last couple weeks had been spent observing the foreign mercenaries employed by Viktor, studying their patrol routes and armor. Luckily, most of the equipment used by the mercs was second hand, meaning the years of studying foreign vehicles might be paying off for the Special Forces.

However, they were lacking in anti vehicle weapons. They had managed to secure the Embassy's LY65 RPG, a duel barreled 80mm weapon that came with two AA missiles and two thermobaric rockets, but walking down the street with a rocket launcher would attract attention. Instead, they used the emergency funds from the Embassy to invested in Petrol, fertilizer, and other dangerous materials. IFVs might have ceramic armor these days, but crews often enjoyed fresh air from open hatches.

The first attacks were selected for their psychological impact. Check points around the city were manned and well defended, supply depots even more so. The easiest way to get the heavy supplies out of the depots, was to convince the occupiers they were needed in the streets.

Three road blocks were targeted: one outside a major news station, one by a supply depot, and one guarding the government district. Three simultaneous attacks. Three cars were stolen that morning, and loaded with fertilizer bombs. At exactly 4:15AM before the shift change at these roadblocks, while morning traffic was still light, the plan went into motion. The stolen cars were aimed at the roadblocks and bricks left on their gas pedals. The civilian cars raced towards their intended targets. Sniper fire from nearby locations harassed any crew served weapons that might stop the bombs. Once detonation occurred, the snipers would flee to pre determined evac points. To mask their escape any obvious public CCTV cameras would also be taken out by spray paint or other simple coverings.

At the attack near the news station, the Special Forces would amp it up. Just after the car was released, a civilian brandished a Widowmaker grenade launcher and release three quick rounds into the checkpoint before the car even made it. Once the fertilizer bomb went off, a pair of men would open up on the checkpoint with SMG fire.

The early morning attack should limit civilian casualties, as not many were out so early, but terrible things could still happen. It was war, and they were cut off from communication with Juventud or any other major military command. As far as they cared, Morrdun was occupied by a foreign power, and it was their duty to help the locals rise up against it.

Within a day a letter would be mailed to the news company, claiming the attacks were done by the Free Army of the Commonwealth, or FAC. Citing the foreign mercenaries and hostile invasion as proof that Viktor was an Ordenite puppet. It didn't matter if he was the rightful ruler or not, he betrayed the Commonwealth, therefore all Morridane clans should rise up to restore their sovereignty.


2nd Army Command
Central Florida

Commandant Flynn was treated as a possible spy, and under orders from Army Intelligence, certain information was passed along to him to see what would happen. As evidence and useful bits of information began to show up around him, it was possible he was sympathetic to the allied cause. To capitalize on this, he was invited onto a staged meeting of border stations to ensure the Federation had sufficient troops to minimize illegal border crossings. Especially given that the border lockdowns had given a new breath of life into the cross border smuggling operations. Part of the meeting was to review Commonwealth capacity for border security, hence why Flynn was here.

His counterpart north of the border, Major Perez, was working towards his own operations. His goal was to help the northerners transition back to peaceful border operations, but also determine the atmosphere of the border. How loyal were they to the new King and government, and how would they react if their Queen returned? Difficult questions to ask in the open, but he made frequent trips to the local Federal Consulate. The main embassy might be gone, but not all of the various around Morrdh consulates joined them. A few closer to the border remained open, both to allow Federal citizens a place to go, and for diplomatic communications to pass through.

[The Macabees]

MORRDUN, MORRDH
Soon after the start of Viktor's coup.

"Come woman, follow the guard." With a stern look, the diplomat faced the soldier, and said, "Find my son. Escort him and my wife to the basement."

Leaving them going the opposite direction, Jogornos Marko Lemán made his speedy way to his office. The hallways were bathed in a rhythmic red light that came and went with the shrill screams of the alarms. Dozens of people were hurrying past him in the other direction, all heading to the emergency stairs. They were headed downstairs, as well. These were air-raid alarms.

Koronel Lepto Arfu 'vin Delá, the Frommian-born commander of the embassy guard, was already there waiting for him. The diplomat's adjunct, Mani Harar, arrived a mere moment later. They both looked tired, as he was sure he did too. The explosions had woken them all up with rude abruptness.

"Diplomat," greeted the officer, who gave a sharp nod.

Marko closed the door behind him. "What's going on?"

"We don't know," answered Arfu 'vin Delá. "There have been explosions. I cannot confirm that the city is under an air raid, but it seemed the safest protocol to follow. May it be Willed that this is nothing more than a scare. But, there are reports of contractors and soldiers on the streets. Even gunfire, 'though these are more difficult to verify."

"Who and why would anybody attack Morrdun?" asked Mari Hara.

The koronel shook his head, "I don't know. We will have to wait until we have more information. My staff has already contacted Nipotas" — the majestic and sprawling complex of the Golden Throne's foreign relations headquarters in Fedala — "and all we can do now is wait. I suggest you head down to the basement, Ms. Hara. It's safer down there," he said to the adjunct.

She shook her head. "No, I'm a big girl. If the jogornos is up here, so am I."

'vin Delá looked at the diplomat, but Marko simply shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and said, "You heard her." Then, more seriously, he turned to the commander, and asked, "Have you made the call to Jakal Níelson?"

"No," said 'vin Delá. "I figured you'd want to make it yourself."

"Good," replied the jogornos. Turning to Hara, he said, "Sit down Mari, we will call the kríerlord together. He may already know more than us about what is going on here. Koronel, you may go back to your men. Continue to feed me any piece of information you get. Contact the local field office of the Agén Enkubier" — the imperial intelligence agency — "maybe they know something."

The koronel chuckled, "I'm sure Níelson will be able to get more out of them than me."

"Try anyway," said Marko.



BERLISTON, NEW EMPIRE
Same night.

"Thank you, jogornos," said Kríerlord Jakal Níelson. His voice was fine and almost pretentious, but somehow worse. It wasn't as if he knew he was better than you. It was as if he just was. It made a man dislike Níelson. Maybe that's why the emperor had given him jurisdiction over far-eastern relations, to counterbalance the popularity of Migalo Kor.

He listened for some time, then, "No, no, I will not be bothering the emperor with this now. Have you already contacted Nipotas? Good. For now, let us see what is going on. Once I have something real to take back to His Imperial Majesty, I will do just that. For now, keep your people safe and hold tight."

He slammed the phone down, then picked it back up again. Dialing a number, he waited for it to connect. Someone said something on the other line. "Yes," said Níelson. "Agent Jarkús, what do you know about the situation?" Whatever the agent told him must have been short or very little, because very quickly the kríerlord followed his question up with, "When you learn something, call me immediately."



...some time later.

"A coup?" asked the kríerlord. "A coup against whom?" There elapsed a moment, then, "The Gods, a coup against the queen?"

He put down the phone and turned on the television screen opposite of him in his study. It turned on and he changed the station to a major news network. He saw the images of a Mr. Viktor Cathmore proclaiming himself king of the Morridhane Commonwealth. Picking the phone back up, he asked, "And where is the queen now? You don't know? Well, figure it out, man!"

Ending that call, he made another one. This time back to the embassy.



MORRDUN, MORRDH
After Jakal Níelson's call.

The commander was back in Marko's office, summoned to it after the kríerlord had hung up. The jogornos had explained what he knew of the situation. 'vin Delá had provided some intelligence of his own, which was whatever he could learn from the local Agén Enkubier office staff and from his own eyes-and-ears on the ground. There had been no air raid, after all. There were boots on the ground, though, and not necessarily Morridane soldiers. Evidence suggested the presence of private contractors, perhaps from Tarn. There were others too, of a more distinct tongue. Deutsche Scythians. A rabid bunch.

"We have orders to evacuate all non-essential staff from the embassy as soon as we get clearance to do so from the new government in Morrdh," said Marko. "I will remain behind with a skeleton crew and the embassy guard until I receive further orders. The kríerlord does not have clear instructions, he would just like us to prepare for the worst."

Mari said, "I'm staying, I'm assuming."

"No, dear," said the jogornos. "You will fly back to Fedala, as well."

Nodding, 'vin Delá said, "I will contact the local authorities and the airport. As soon as we have clearance, we'll start the evacuation."



...after the Mokan deployment to Tuktar, the interception of the nuclear warhead in orbit, and the initial evacuation of non-essential embassy staff.

"A full withdrawal of our embassy?" asked the jogornos, almost in disbelief.

The kríerlord, on the other side of the line, simply answered, "Yes, it is what His Imperial Majesty Wills."

"But why?" asked Marko.

"The Viktor regime is not being recognized by the Imperial Bureaucracy. Queen Lothwyn is still alive, in Stevidian hands. As long as she lives, she remains the rightful ruler of Morrdh, at least according to us. We are officially closing ties with mainland Morrdh until the usurper Viktor Cathmore is deposed," Níelson explained. "You are to meet me here, in Berliston. Our embassy with Morrdh will be moved to Stevid Capita for the time being, where we can continue relations with the Morridane Government in Exile. Understood? Good. I must go." The line clicked off.



OFF THE SOUTHEASTERN COAST OF MAINLAND MORRDH
Throughout these events.

The Macabéan military complex in northeastern Greater Díenstad had grown into an expansive beast since the beginning of the Gothic War. There were docks for thousands of ships and barracks for millions of men in both Mokastana and Haishan. The Kríermada patrolled these waters regularly, keeping tabs on pirates operating out of Díenghant. Most of this infrastructure would be sold off soon, as Kríermak Gholgoth returned little-by-little and with it did the hundreds of millions of soldiers who had fought in Drana, the Scandinvan mainland. But, it wasn't gone yet — and perhaps some of it would never leave, now that it had left such a large imprint on the local economies.

The Golden Throne still had a plentiful host of military forces to count on to surveil the ongoing situation in Morrdh and, if necessary, support its allies in a military operation to remove Viktor Cathmore from power. Naval, ground, and aerial forces in Mokastana were put on high alert and a 24/7 emergency line with the Mokan embassy in Fedala established for coordination and communication.

For now, imperial intentions were not belligerent, though. A raid eskúadra was sent to patrol the southeastern coastline of Morrdh to keep an eye on events in these parts of the region. Otherwise, the Golden Throne wanted very little to do with the coup. Its war in Gholgoth was over, the empire was tired, and whatever little energy she had left was being spent fighting in and around Krasnova.

But, should her allies seek military action in Morrdh? It would be a good opportunity to reaffirm commitments and when hadn't the empire taken advantage of a good opportunity?

[Eitoan]

Day of the coup



Reports out of Morrdun, capital of the Commonwealth of Morrdh indicate that a coup is underway against Queen Lothwyn. MBC is reporting gunfire across the capital city, as confusion reigns in that eastern nation. Eitoan 1 News reporter Dennis Jakab is live now, reporting from Fianna Street in Morrdun, near Corbec House, the residence of the Morridane Taoiseach, the Prime Minister Ser George Whittleton.

I'm standing with the foreign press behind a police cordon, about 1000 yards down the street from Corbec House. Activity is apparent within the residence, as the police presence ramped up since the start of shooting in the capital. The sounds of gunfire have been continual but somewhat distant, and it's hard to gage the direction of the sound amidst the confusion. We have recieved no word about the nature or size of forces engaged at the present time, and there has been no information from the Morridane armed forces. At this time the whereabouts of Queen Lothwyn have not been ascertained, there having been no communications from the Palace. Closer to the entrance to Corbec House the domestic press has been clamoring for a statement from the Taoiseach or a representative of the government, but to no avail. Such passerby with whom we can make contact have conveyed unconfirmed rumors of the Queen fleeing the country, or her death. These rumors abound in the absence of information from the authorities, and many of the citizens with whom I've conversed appeared stunned at the recent events. There have been reports that Stevid embassy personnell are active in the capital, requesting and facilitating their nationals evacuation to the embassy for their safety. At this time there has been no word from Ambassador Jon Harlan, or staff of the Eitoan embassy. Eitoan 1 News will continue to monitor as events unfold.

Eitoan 1 News is following response at home as the situation in the east unfolds. Melody Walsh is at the Department of Foreign Affairs in Vladarsik.

The Department of Foreign Affairs has put out an official announcement as of 45 minutes ago concerning the upheavel in Morrdun. It says that "All precautions are being taken by embassy staff and by the Department to ensure the safety of Eitoans in Morrdh. The department is monitoring the situation, and will provide updates if the situation changes." The MBS World Service has just broadcast a message from the palace in Morrdun where the Queen's uncle, Viktor Cathmore has announced that he is assuming the crown, and indicated changes in the direction of foreign policy vis-a-vis the country's neighboring Triumvirate powers, with an orientation toward the Ordenite Reich. The Reich is a belligerent in the Krasnova conflict, where a flight wing of the Eitoan Air Force is supporting Golden Throne forces. Imbrinian and Stevid diplomats contacted by Eitoan 1 in Vladarsik have indicated that the coup is serious, but fighting is not widespread in the country. We can also confirm calls from several Eitoan companies involved in Morrdh, particularly technology provider OTR and Eitoan Airlines to Foreign Affairs Secretary Randall Field expressing concern for employee safety in that land. There have also been stories that among the insurgent forces is a contingent of Scythians, raising eyebrows at Foreign Affairs and military intelligence about the powers behind Viktor Cathmore. Unspoken at this time, but bound to be of interest at Foreign Affairs is the disposition of Morrdh toward the belligerents in the Krasnova conflict. There has been no comment from the military at this time, or from any member of the Ghastak or Dashez on the Morrdh royal imbroglio.

---

Coup + 36 Hours

Official Diplomatic Instruction
Transmitted under security class ZF-5
Randall Field, Secretary of Foreign Affairs, The Republic of Eitoan
Recipient: Jon Harlan, Ambassador of The Republic of Eitoan to The Commonwealth of Morrdh

With respect to your most recent information transmission, ensure that all communications to Foreign Affairs Vladarsik continue as the situation unfolds. No obstruction of communications or successful hacking of channels has been seen so far. Of topmost importance are updates on the safety of Eitoan citizens, both remaining in country and evacuated. Next priority for communication is the status of contacts with Triumvirate diplomats in Morrdun, but without sensitive information that can be intercepted. We anticipate a downgrade of relations with Morrdh on the part of Stevid and Imbrinium and you will need to maintain appropriate behavior with the Morridane diplomatic corps in the event we are called upon to act as a protecting power for those two nations in Morrdun.

At this time Foreign Affairs has no plans to recognize the legitimacy of the Viktor Cathmore regime, and analysis of the composition and nature of his support is ongoing. Sidetrack any discussion of such recognition in all communications with Morridane officials and diplomatic personnel. This is your primary objective, and should be buttressed with information you can gather from Morridane legal experts that are reliable and knowledgeable in the laws of the monarchy and succession.

Keep a low profile.

As of this transmission you have clearance to call for all Eitoan citizens in country to verify their location with the embassy. Foreign Affairs Vladarsik will announce this in 45 minutes. Work with all reliable Morridane authorities to facilitate this, regardless of their leanings in the current coup.

---

24 hours before Eitoan announcement of Northern Initiative Sverni Iniciatat
Port of Razmaki,
Marshite Occupation Zone
Free Ralkovia
Commandatura Building,
Allied Occupation Forces Unified Command

The bi-monthly flight to Razmaki had become routine for General Neal Gates, Commandant of the Eitoan Occupation Forces Ralkovia. Most of these had been mundane, very few issues in play at the commandant level - Balkovian black market activities, steady reduction of the Raumfestung pocket, updates on decontamination activities, and loose coordination on propaganda efforts aimed at the Ralkovian Reich. Dry stuff, stuff that should be handled by staff, or better yet, civilian paper shufflers. But this was Ralkovia, at least what remained of it, and still firmly under the heel of the victorious allies. One by one the zone commandants shuffled in, resigned to their duty. Not that facilities were all that luxurious in any other town, or what passed for a town in Free Ralkovia. Belovo, in the Eitoan Zone showed some signs of life since the infusion of relief supplies and transportation improvements, but that town was only skimming above subsistence level. The officers greeted each other in the great conference room, and got down to business. First on the agenda was overall border security. This had died down recently, as both the allies and the Reich were still licking their wounds from the war and subsequent stalemate. Reich activity since the halt in hostilities had transferred steadily toward the great western river, away from the border with Free Ralkovia. Interzonal security issues came next, another snoozer. The afternoon session was devoted to ever boring economic and agricultural reports. Status - rudimentary, as always.

The meetings had ossified into a set piece: Marshite rule was harsh, the Marshites still smarting by the allied stall at the end of the war, The Arch-Bishop still viewing many of the allies as “weak and fickle friends". Indeed, within 18 months of the cease of hostilities Romandean and Lamonian forces had been reduced to the point that their sectors incorporated into the Marshite Zone. One by one the off continent powers reduced deployments to barely above garrison level. It made sense - with the threat of slavery broken, their respective publics grew weary of the expense and danger involved in the distant occupation. In it's wake, Eitoan involvement both military and civilian stepped up, the former Ralkovian colony intent on deterring any designs of revenge and military adventure on the part of the Penada Clique in charge of the Ralkovian Reich. With increased Eitoan investment in Free Ralkovia, and under the aegis of the Northwest Mutual Assistance Agreement, The Timocratic Republic happily offloaded as much expensive policing and civilian work as they could manage on Commandant Gates while maintaining their own zone. The two treaty bound allies operated affairs in their zones in close coordination, jokingly knowns as "Bizonia". The remainder of Free Ralkovia was under Morridane rule, with a reduced garrison under the command of Major Bernard Shaw. The other commandants, being sensitive to his junior rank, were always solicitous of him and addressed him with the utmost courtesy.

Before the meeting broke up Gates spoke up "We'll be boosting offensive capability in Free Ralkovia, Defense Secretary Maska is going to speak to the Ghastak with a general outline two days from now. We're adding two armies with full offensive and rapid deployment capability, and logistical support. Most will be stationed in the Eitoan Zone, but certain advance units will quarter throughout Free Ralkovia. Our staff will be in touch, and we won't be displacing any existing occupation force disposition. We will handle all necessary infrastructure and communication upgrades to support this initiative. Of course, we are requesting cooperation from your occupation forces, and local auxiliaries under your control."

The other commandants were nonplussed. Buffeting of forces for offensive operations was nothing new, and permitted under the Interzonal Operating Agreement. All had assumed this to be a prelude to another action against The Ralkovian Reich.

The Marshite and Timocratic generals shuffled out. Gates struck up a conversation with Major Shaw.

Sitting back in his chair, he offered the Major a cigarette, a local brand.

Zhivagos, I know. Disappointing, but we're on the local crap - shipping space is at a premium, and we're loading up on potatoes and food paste in Belovo.

Listen - I don't want to be blunt, but what's your thoughts on Viktor? You've always been the good soldier, keeping it close to the vest, as you should. But just between us - man to man - how's it going here? Back home? There's a lot of curiosity these days...

[Morrdh]

Rosewell Space Command
Two days after the missile attack on Waremera

Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron sighed. It was his duty to defend the Federation from all orbital and interstellar threats, but it didn't mean they didn't frustrate him with their legalese and other such nonsense. Senate Bill 489.12F "Approval of military action in support of Lothwyn Cathmore and Federal Allies in The Commonwealth of Morrdh" tied his hands when it came to actions he could take. A few politicians argued whether his action in assuming control of CCA assets in orbit was technically legal or not, but his argument was that CCA agreements allowed Roswell to act as Command and Control in the event of crisis. The wording wasn't clear on what counted as a crisis, but it created enough political confusion finding the line between CCA and PUF leadership that he could keep Parliament off his back for awhile. However, his next proposal was clearly in the Terrestrial realm, where Parliament, and even Viktor, had more power.

He wanted to deploy Federal Space Infantry to occupy Waremera directly. If he played his cards right, military occupation of the space port could be used to convince Viktor that the Queen won't nuke it and thus end relations with the most logical invasion point, and allied occupation of the Space Port would prevent it from being used by Viktor's forces. Since an attack on the Space Port would be, theoretically, considered an act of war by the Federation. First, he had to contact Space Marshal Cosgrave with his proposal. If he could get Cosgrove to approve the plan, in the name of the Queen, he could begin OPERATION SAN PEDRO.

To: Space Marshal Cosgrave
From: Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron, Rosewell Space Command, People's Unified Federation

Given the necessity of the Queen's government to deny rebel forces access to Waremera, the importance of Waremera to the future of the CCA, and the desire of Viktor to maintain cordial relations with the Federation, I would like to propose occupation of Waremera by PUF space infantry. Officially, PUF space forces would be on loan to the CCA, making this occupation a CCA operation. I request approval from the Queen's government so that this action cannot be challenged by my government, as it complies with Senate Bill 489.12F

Long live the Queen,
Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron

RAF Grafton Common

Space Marshal Cosgrave had been busy organising his own plans when he received the communique from his Mokan counterpart. The idea had merit and he was pretty sure there were some legal shenanigans they could use to back it up, though Cosgrave had some misgivings. He took some time to think before drafting his response.

To: Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron
From: Space Marshal Cosgrave, Royal Space Force

I am intrigued by your proposal to deny rebel forces the use of Waremera by occupying it with PUF space infantry. Whilst it can be justified through the CCA, I am concerned about support of the occupation force if the rebels decide to blockade the base. Though I will request that the occupation force contains a liaison officer from the RSF or Astro-Marines.

Included with this communique is details of Morridane satellites, these are another asset that I wish to deny the rebels. Though conscious of the effect if they were simply destroyed, I instead intend to deploy craft to tow these satellites to Lunar. This would avoid any fallout and leave the satellites intact. Any assistance you can offer to carry out this plan would be greatly appreciated.

Space Marshal Cosgrave

---

Port of Razmaki,
Marshite Occupation Zone
Free Ralkovia
Commandatura Building,
Allied Occupation Forces Unified Command

The Marshite and Timocratic generals shuffled out. Gates struck up a conversation with Major Shaw.

Sitting back in his chair, he offered the Major a cigarette, a local brand.

Zhivagos, I know. Disappointing, but we're on the local crap - shipping space is at a premium, and we're loading up on potatoes and food paste in Belovo.

Listen - I don't want to be blunt, but what's your thoughts on Viktor? You've always been the good soldier, keeping it close to the vest, as you should. But just between us - man to man - how's it going here? Back home? There's a lot of curiosity these days...

"Thank ye sir." Shaw replied as he took the offered cigar, though did not light it. "I understand sir, beggars can't be choosers."

"Viktor..." Replied Shade, hesitating for a moment. "I only know o' him sir, just don't know much 'bouts him."

"We've been pretty much in the dark since the coup, though we recently received word from Morrdun ta continue our mission. Though no word on if and when the next battalion is meant to be relieving us."

"Some o' me men are naturally worried, none o' them have heard from loved ones since the coup. That and nobody knows wot Viktor intends ta do with the Commonwealth, as you probably know yourself the unknown weighs heavily on a soldier's mind."

"The Queen is, was, well liked....so there is that as well since we do not know her fate."

[Morrdh]

Gwentia Province
Western Morrdh

Coaches were waiting on the tarmac of the Ramarck airport, ready to take the first of the Ordenite PMCs deeper into Morrdh. Morridane military police kept the tarmac cordoned off and the airport staff away until the plane's passengers had transferred to the convoy of buses and been driven out of the airport's grounds. The late hour and martial law being in effect meant there was little if any traffic about, thus allowing the small convoy to speed through the city and out into the dark countryside beyond.

The coaches drove for some time, following the main highway east as it climbed up and then through the Dragonspine mountain range that ran down the western side of Morrdh and into Mokan lands in the south. Most curiously, after the coaches had joined the highway the road was closed off to all other traffic and a diversion was put into place. For the Ordenite soldiers, nothing appeared to be out of place and it seemed more likely that they would die off boredom. Some took the chance to catch up on sleep, others tried keeping themselves amused as the road wind it's way up the mountains surrounded by inky blackness.

A little while later when the convoy came to one of the many passes in the mountain range, the coaches slowed and came to a halt. The halt was unexpected, though not alarming as there could be an array of different reasons as to why they stopped. Though before any answers were forthcoming, heavy machine gun fire suddenly rake the coaches from both sides of the road. Windows exploded into a shower of glass, tyres blew out and the bodywork of the vehicles were petered as the hail of fire worked back and forth. After a sustained burst of fire, the machine guns fell silent and soldiers moved up to finish off any possible survivors before bodies were dragged onto the road.

Short while later Morridane Army trucks arrived to take the bodies away to another location before recovery vehicles cleared away the wrecked buses. Army sappers then got to work clearing away damage to the road, ensuring their work was done before the highway was reopened come morning. Round the same time the flights bringing in more of the Ordenite PMCs were ordered to turn back, some were forcibly made to do so by RMAF fighters scrambled to intercept those that had reached Morridane airspace.

---

ORDENITE COMMANDOS RAID MORRDH!

The Taoiseach has made an announce this morning that Ordenite commandos attempted a raid in Morrdh last night, but were successfully defeated by Commonwealth security forces.

Photographs were produced of the Ordenite soldiers, though it appears none were taken alive. It is not clear what they had hoped to achieve, but it is highly suspected that they intended to exploit recent turmoil in Morrdh to ensure that the Commonwealth remained destabilised. Efforts are currently underway to locate possible safehouses used by the raiders and to see whether other teams are active within the borders of the Commonwealth.

Both Ard Righ Viktor Cathmore and the Taoiseach have condemned the raid as a 'cowardly action' by the Ordenite Reich and pledged to offer the Commonwealth's full support to anti-Ordenite forces in Greater Dienstad.

[Imbrinium]

Augusto was taken back by the news he would be the father of twins. It was great news twins ran in the family thought he never thought he would be so lucky.

“Lothwyn let’s get married here and now, in secret we can do the whole formal royal protocol later for the world but right now we need to do this and join our nations and regain you throne”

“Our countries need to be joined to fight out common enemies, Your Uncle and the Reich.”

“So what do you say my love will you take my hand and become my wife and lifelong partner?”

We’ve come so far we need to finish this as a strong united front and get your crown back and start our live together.

Safehouse somewhere in Morrdh

The operators from the embassy stayed low and kept a low profile, nothing much was going on out at the safehouse a few military convoys had been noticed on the roads here and there and was sent back to OAH Far East division headquarters.

They waited on word on more personnel being sent into the country to continue the mission in which they where there to do.

OAH FED (Far East Division) kept the delay on for sending in anymore personnel into the country mainly due to a lack for a clear vision of what was needed yet.

[Holy Marsh]

(Morrdh helped with some dialogue)

M-SAD had been keeping tabs on the Morridane situation since the start. They had not ever truly established deep relations with the Commonwealth, though not out of distaste. The Theocracy only rarely leapt at the chance to establish relations beyond cordiality with most. It led to accusations that they were a diplomatically surly bunch but the truth was far less exciting. They simply did not feel the need to extend their reach all that strongly to nations that they did not have a strong militant attachment to, a large base of those who followed the Faith, or seemed to be in deep need of rescue. Morrdh did not fit any of these conditions and thus the Theocracy operated its diplomacy cordially but without fanfare. It was a noble nation with times of trial in its histories but it did not yet ask or require Marshite aid.

That changed rapidly.
Viktor's coup and the swiftness with which it achieved success had taken M-SAD by surprise. Viktor's claims and his motive were established and known to M-SAD, and his dalliance with fascism's most notable scions in the region was not secret to many in the region. But the rapidity and success of the coup had caused M-SAD to re-evaluate the Commonwealth's needs. Nobility could be lead down dark paths and fascism walked dangerously close to breaking several Major Sins of the Faith regionally. While the forces arrayed against this potential evil were vast, the insidious nature of it meant that if left unchecked it could only grow, much like a cancerous growth. The balance of power geopolitically and Marshite moralism married to forge a single goal: the restoration of the Devee Nechuna Queen Lothwyn to her throne, as intended by the Holy Marsh, and a check against the potential unleashing of further evils in the region.

The announcement of the destruction of the Fascist mercenaries was received with warmth and questioning of Viktor's long term plans. The play seemed simple enough. Convince the region that Morrdh would continue to act as a faithful WatchGuard against the rampages of the region's chosen enemy. By implication, this would mean attempted military, economic, or political actions against his nation would in turn only benefit their shared enemy. "The enemy of my enemy", by all intents. It was a bold move, but a desperate one. By likely alienating his most powerful ally he was cutting himself off from a host of military possibilities should he be attacked. It was a bold move. Unluckily for Viktor, the Devee Nechuna Queen Lothwyn would be restored to her throne, and he would die in the effort.

Or such was the hope.

Mar'si, The Grand Theocratic Empire of the Holy Marsh, Romani-Mar'si Union
Saint Sard'Sasha Diplomatic Complex

Diplomatic Outreach Officer Ejusa Luovana had been dispatched by order of the Arch-Bishop to deliver a personal message to the Morridane Ambassador. M-SAD and the Foreign Relations Department had assured Luovana that Lord-Ravener Morrough was of the greatest loyalty to the Devee Nechuna Queen and that was to the Lord-Ravener's benefit: It was easy for the weak to follow orders as a substitute for one's noble heart. If such times tried men's souls, then may the soul of Morrdh itself not be found wanting.

The meeting was to take place Saint Sard'Sasha Diplomatic Complex as opposed to the Morridane Embassy or the Marshite Foreign Affairs Office. That was seen as tipping their hand that something was in the world. But the Saint Sard'Sasha Diplomatic Complex was an area zoned for meetings with nations that the Theocracy was just starting to understand as well as low-level meetings that weren't worth taking up valuable space. This, along with the hoped-for brevity of the meeting, would hopefully not signal that this was anything more than a quick meeting to ascertain how the Lord-Ravener was holding up.

"Miss Luovana, the Lord-Ravener is here," chimed the intercom. Speak of the devil, right?

"Good. Send him in."

A moment or two later and in stepped the Lord-Ravener. He was a good man with some excellent taste in whiskey. How had these times hurt that particular trade, Luoavana thought. She beckoned for him to sit.
"Lord Ravener, I am pleased you came upon our request. How are you doing in these trying times?" She asked as he took his seat. She started to prepare the request, complete with bio-encrypted sealant on a datapad. She didn't know if it struck him odd that he had been summoned by an Outreach Officer. No one outside of the First Cathedral was aware of the DOO's role as the Arch-Bishop's secret messengers, after all.

"I'm fine thank you Outreach Officer Luovana," Morrough replied. "Though the recent troubles has made importing my favourite brand of whisky....problematic."

That answered that question.

"I would imagine so. The usurper who controls your country has done great harm in matters both great and small, has he not?" She responded, pouring a glass of water for the two of them. She offered him his cup.

"Certainly caused an upheaval," answered Morrough as he took the water. "A very messy affair," he said quietly as he started to drink,

"One that must be resolved quickly, you do believe?"

"Aye, though I fear that it will not receive a prompt resolution."

"Unless one has the will to shed blood for it."

"Possibly, though how high a cost?" Morrough said. "I'm afraid that he'll make that price damn high."

She nodded. "The cost is never too high when the soul of a people is in the firmament," she replied, then produced the datapad. It flashed his name, and the name of his queen. It was for their eyes only. "Tell the Devee Nechuna Queen Lothwyn that the Theocracy will support her regardless of the cost. Could you arrange a meeting between her and our Lamonian ambassador, Lord Ravener?"

"Alas, that will be no easy task." Stated Morrough as he took the datapad in hand. "I will confer with my counterparts in friendly nations, though I cannot offer any guarantees. Regardless, I shalt try my best."

And that he did.

[Mokastana]

Rosewell Space Command,
United State of Tatom,
People's Unified Federation

Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron was a clever man. With a response from Space Marshal Consgrave, he could begin his second part of the plan. It was ludicrous, but sometimes you needed ludicrous to achieve strategic goals. Besides, Viktor was tying to play nice with the Federation. PUF soldiers north of the border would make an excellent bargaining chip for him. First, Zeron responded to Cosgrave, before sending a more risky message via his contacts at Waremera....

To: Space Marshal Cosgrave
From: Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron, Rosewell Space Command, People's Unified Federation

I will attempt to negotiate with the rebels to ensure we have approval to land forces in Waremera before any occupation takes place, less then view Orbital Shock Troops landing north of the border as a prelude to a Mokan invasion. As for the satellites, I will have forces ready to aid with removing them, we can claim they are in need of maintenance, or at risk of falling on Federal soil. I will coordinate my fleets with your office regarding a full plan to remove them from orbit.

Long live the Queen,
Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron

To: Waremera Command
From: Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron, Rosewell Space Command, People's Unified Federation

Good day,

As you are aware, a few days ago there was an attempt to destroy Waremera Space Port via orbital strike. Although the first attempt was intercepted, we have reason to believe that additional attempts may occur. In order to prevent the destruction of the Waremera Space Port complex. I propose the deployment of at least two companies of PUF Space Colonial Infantry to secure Waremera. The presence of Federal troops will act as a shield to prevent another attack by weapons of mass destruction, and in return, Federal Forces can ensure the rest of the world that Waremera Space Port will not weaponized during the Morridane Civil War. I would like to request this message be passed onto Viktor's government for approval, as the PUF embassy is still out of commission. Federal Troops will be ready to deploy from Orbit once clearence is achieved.

Space Marshal Gabriel Zeron