The Hunt for the Sleeping Giant [IC][MT/PMT][CLOSED]
Posted: Sun Mar 22, 2020 11:07 pm
by Kafair
Welcome to The Hunt for the Sleeping Giant
It had been 2 weeks from the day that the Masada, an oil tanker out from the UAE, had disappeared. The ship was last sighted around the Al Shaheen oilfield, before it lost contact with anyone, on or off shore. All that was known is that oddly, it was sailing away from the oilfield, before it even began to acquire any of the black gold it was made to carry. For those two weeks, Kafair scoured the seas, hunting for the tanker. Every available resource was spent on hunting down the ship, one of the largest on earth (comparable to the Seawise Giant). The crew aboard was a good hundred men larger then usual, and they were armed.
It was clear Kafair was desperate for the cargo it was carrying. Rumors were abound of a pathogen, a superweapon of some kind. This kind of talk was quickly silenced. The last known location by transponder of the ship was a absolute mess. It read that is was in the middle of the Arctic, then next to the British Isles, then near China, and then around California, before finally settling within the Pacific Ocean. All thats known beyond that are the coordinates 60 South, 135 West. After that, theres nothing.
The Government was now Desperate. In what they are calling Operation Sleeping Giant, they were now calling for any available world governments to try and lend aid to reclaim and find the ship. Sightings of more ships, small skiffs and Corvettes, swarming it, exchanging gunfire, were now circulating the web. A single red machete was painted on each, according to eyewitness reports. The government was calling it a Pirate operation, blaming the Blood Blade Syndicate and The Cardinal Fleet, trying to keep attention off of the Masada's cargo. There was no manifest or list of that cargo available.
So this is the call. All world governments, lend your aid! From companies, armies, special forces, or even private workers, all are welcome in this hunt. But you hunt no normal beast. No, you hunt...
He shivered in the dark. The pistol was clutched in his fist so hard his hand turned white. He heard footsteps outside the heavy bulk door he now trusted to protect him. The once blue uniform he wore with pride was now covered in blood, much his own. Then, the footsteps stopped. he willed them on, with no luck. Shaking harder, he slowly and roughly leveled the pistol at the door, waiting for it to slam open. A gruff voice, speaking a language he didnt know. Then, the man continued on. For a second, the young sailor sighed with relief. Then, the door was blown open. The man, african, with a mess of clothing on his body and a shotgun in his hand, sighted him, and grinned, much like a shark. The scared boy fired, the bullet pinging off the metal by the pirates head. He didnt flinch, and walked forward slowly. And as he passed a weak lamp on the ceiling, he saw it. On his cheek, a red machete, not of paint, but of human blood, painted there. He yelled out for help, firing again and again, missing over and over, until the pirate hit him across the face. The world grew darker, and he feel into the sweet embrace of the dark.
Suglian Garilash, Pirate Leader Suglian set down his radio, and slung his assault rifle to his back. He grabbed the ships intercom, and spoke in his European accent, one that was hard to place.
"The ship is now in our hands. Hunt down any pockets of sailor resistance. Keep those Cardinals off the deck at all costs! Any man who fails I will skin alive, you all hear me? Plunder above all!"
Across the ship, the Pirates echoed the cry, and set back off, dragging anyone they found into a holding room on the deck. At either side, pirates let loose with assault rifles and rocket launchers, trying to hit the circling Cardinal corvettes, which returned fire with their light guns and LMGs, neither causing significant damage. The ship was a warzone, but the pirates would not let this prize slip their clutches.
Edvard Teliz, formerly known as Major Rashid al-Ikbac, Cardinal High Commander The rocket flew wide, slamming into the sea with a splash the size of a small building. He felt the corvette rock, as its gun returned fire. Looking around at his crew, he slammed a button on the table before him.
"Launch skiffs, get on that ship!"
The corvettes slows, skiffs leaping off them and rushing at the Masada, amid a renewed and increasingly desperate hail of gunfire. Edvard looked out at the massive red shape, taller then the Empire State Building, and watched two skiffs slam into each other as a rocket hits the deck of the first, cartwheeling it into its ally. A ball of fire formed, yet from all sides, Cardinal troops started leaping onto the deck, and engaging in close combat with the pirates. They fought hard to find the Masada. It wouldn't escape them now.
Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2020 12:38 am
by Bulgar Rouge
Mawlamyine, Myanmar
This filthy Burmese port had long been a centre of Bulgar Rouge activity in Asia. Many of the port's corrupt administrators had been recruited by the vicious Transitional Heavenly State, providing an excellent base to direct and ship any kind of illicit cargo or personnel on covert missions across the Asia-Pacific region. The Fyon-class, an agile, stealthy, fast smuggling ship, was therefore a regular sight here. This day was no exception - several were in the vicinity.
The shabby port authority building had an excellent view of the vicinity, and a convoy of trucks could be spotted entering the grounds of the port from the port chief's office. A middle-aged man in his 50s, his annoyed and cynical look spotted the vehicles from his window. Nobody was stopping their movement, and he immediately knew it was either an NPLA or a State Security matter. His gaze returned to the screen and a list of cargo items due to arrive later today. Two helicopters arriving by rail and a special air shipment from Bulgaria through Rangoon stood out.
A knock on his door followed, and a young sergeant invited himself in without waiting for a response. His khaki uniform with a black beret sportng a five-pointed star with a structure inside it was immediately recognisable. He spoke calmly.
"Your superiors are not of the most expedient kind so State Security will move in without the "paperwork". The Department is establishing temporary control over the port in line with a covert operation. Don't worry if your superiors cause you trouble - we'll take care of it."
The annoyance and cynicism in the port chief's look were now complemented by slight surprise, mostly of the dismissive kind.
"As soon as our gear arrives and we set it up, our squads will depart. We need access to these ports for refueling and no questions asked. We also need your logs related to a particular crime syndicate - shipments, points of contact, everything. If anything has passed through THS ports, or any ports where you have informants, and it's related to these guys - forward the information to me personally."
The sergeant passed a written list of items to the port chief, then promptly left the office. A few minutes later, two of the Fyon-class vessels were being loaded with some items and preparations for them to sail were being made. Another convoy of trucks carrying additional gear arrived. The port chief had seen these antics before, but there was something different here. The urgency was visible. His attention returned to the computer screen, and with an ever-present degree of annoyance, he began to work on the sergeant's requests.
Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2020 12:15 pm
by South Reinkalistan
Premier's Office, Turaniskidak Politburo 1:00 PM
"Comrade Turaniski, the Commissariat of the Exterior Report is here." The enthusiastic, upbeat tone of Turaniski's aide was nigh-unbearable, grinding against his eardrums.
Fan-fucking-tastic. There hadn't been much interesting international news as of late, and the Premier was hardly the most patient of men. He sighed, the burden of leadership and the hardships of a weary statesman resting on his shoulders. "Thank you, Comrade Lesketov. You are dismissed." He pointed at the open door.
"Of course, Comrade Turaniski!" The young man belted, completely unaware of how intolerable his superior found him. He followed with a clumsy yet energetic Reinkalistani salute; fist on his shoulder, arm crossed against his chest. "Forwards, Reinkalistania!"
Turaniski resisted the urge to groan. "We aren't in the military, Comrade Lesketov. There is absolutely no need for a salute."
"Y-yes, Comrade Turaniski. My utmost, sincerest apologies!" He spun on his heel, and swiftly left, head bowed. With this particular annoyance gone, the Premier reluctantly skimmed through the report. Most of it appeared to be incredibly trivial. Minor diplomatic arrangements, international climate action, the blasted United Nations; all hallmarks of the First World and its infuriating dominion over the globe. But one particular notice caught his eye. And from Kafair, no less. Apparently their government was now looking for help with that missing ship of theirs... the Masada, was it? He vaguely recalled hearing about it a couple of weeks ago. He'd paid it no attention, but this recent development was most interesting. Apparently they had blamed a few rogue pirates and the silly anarchist resistance. Nothing out of sorts for the reactionary Kafairi menace.
But as these thoughts collected in the Premier's head, he found a plan formulating in his head - almost a machination of his subconscious. Despite his visible weariness, a thin smile began to form as everything clicked into place. He chuckled slightly. The Kafairi were no friends of South Reinkalistan, the royalist, pseudo-fascist dogs that they were. His impulsive, personal convictions erred him on the side of going out and seizing the ship with the Red Fleet. A massive middle finger to the desert menace. But his more pragmatic side actually directed him towards lending the support of the People's Federation to the Cardinal Fleet. While anarchism was most definitely a juvenile delusion, they were useful as temporary solutions to achieve one's ends. After all, isn't that what he had done in his own revolution? Enlisted the support of anarchists. They could always be dealt with later.
The smile now an eager grin, he picked up his phone, ringing his secretary. "Is that Tethreka? I'd like to get into contact with the Commissariat of Defence."
Marinta Dockyard, Suthman 2:04 PM
South Reinkalistan's west coast was a putrid mess. Tankers belched smoke into the air as the ever-industrialising region reduced the once-beautiful shoreline to polluted wastes. This was not a priority to the crew of the TSD Vengenace, however; they had a very different mission to accomplish. Thirty-five men were tasked to - aboard their small vessel - establish contact with the Anarchist resistance and locate the missing ship. Then, they could hoodwink the anarchists and take the ship for themselves.
Of course, that part of the plan would be kept... discrete until it was too late.
Captain Reskten-Vosk stood on the deck, and saluted his crew. "You've already been briefed. We depart at will."
This was followed with a chorus of "Yes, Sir"s. With that, the ship set off in the early afternoon hint, turning south towards Kafair...
Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2020 3:41 pm
by Peoples Republic of Joyea
This is a radio transmission from a Shanghai type 1 class fast attack boat. The captain believe he had spotted the ship. Captain James Williams- captain of the JNS 6476 (the Shanghai type 1) Ensign Andrew Archibald- Communications officer at the command station (He will be called "command")
Williams: Command, I think we have a visual on the Masada one of our gunners pointed it out to me it fits the description. Command: Copy we will have the JNS Neustrashimmy go and board it in the meantime follow it. Williams: Copy that Command, wait comrade we have lost visual in the fog and there's no trace of the ship on our scanners. (The crew of the JNS 6476 begin hearing a extremely high pitched noise aND then a loud boom and the ship was gone) Command: 6476 are you there? Are you there 6476? Williams: Yes and we have no clue what the fuck that was all of a sudden our ears started to ring and then a loud boom and then everything just went quiet, we've lost just about everything engine doesn't work, no navigation nothing we need a tug boat we are----- The radio went dark about 6 days later a Arun class rescue ship found JNS 6476 and 2 out of the 8 crew were left and there clothes were covered in blood. There were no bodies of the 6 other crew members. They said they didn't remember anything that happened during those 6 days but have reported have nightmares about those 6 days.
Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2020 6:14 am
by Svadyetsk
The Kremlin, Orelskaya District, Duovograd
Oleg Kleitsin, chieftain of the Orelskaya Thieves Brotherhood, looked up from his cigarette as the door of the bar crashed open. Officially known as Vanya's Bar, and unofficially referred to as the Kremlin by all of his associates, the bar served as the headquarters of Oleg's organised crime syndicate. Typically, the only people who came in were the Brotherhood's clients, gang members and clueless tourists who didn't know about the bar's reputation. Judging by the fact that the newcomers were in uniform, it was probably a raid.
Oleg put one hand into his jacket, curling his fingers around the butt of a Svadyetskan made clone of the Sig Sauer P226 semi-automatic pistol that was tucked into his waistband. Around the Kremlin, his henchmen similarly reached for weapons. As the intruders got closer, Oleg realised that they weren't brownshirted policemen but rather were dressed in the olive green of the army. The army, or the GUVD.
The head Chekist stopped in front of Oleg and produced his creds. "Captain Souvorov, GUVD," he announced. Oleg sighed as the officer settled into the seat opposite. "Comrade Kleitsin, we have business for you."
This day was looking up. The GUVD had power enough to send Oleg to a labour camp for the rest of his life or, given the Brotherhood network running rife in the camps, have him executed on trumped up political crimes. On the other hand, they did tend to pay well and Oleg had done business with them before. "I'm listening." Oleg waved for his men to stand down.
Captain Souvorov pulled an envelope out of his uniform tunic. "There is a ship called the Masada. It has gone missing and, given the efforts its owners have gone to, it contains something that may be of interest to us. These are the details."
Oleg flicked through the contents of the envelope. "Why us? If it looks like the contents are valuable, why not Spetznaz? This isn't some journalist or defector that we can knife in a back alley."
Souvorov grimaced. "The GUVD has no available assets. Additionally, we would like to avoid embroiling our country in some distant conflict. However, Comrade Kleitsin, you have the network, the resources and, above all, the deniability to acquire the cargo from the Masada. The GUVD is willing to pay you half a million US dollars in used unmarked bills. That should be easily disposed of in your... business arrangements." Given that Svadyetsk used a non-exchangeable currency, the hard cash could be used in dealings with other organised crime gangs around the world.
"Three million." Oleg leaned forward. "This cargo is clearly valuable and other people are probably looking for it. I want compensation if things go wrong. Tell your bosses to bring half a million for our expenses and we want the rest on completion. And we will be needing payment for every man who dies unofficially on behalf of state security."
The captain nodded. "I am sure that the GUVD can meet your terms." He rose. "We look forward to the happy conclusion of business."
Oleg waited until the captain had left before pulling out his phone. When things got tough, the only people you could really rely on were family. Besides, his half-brother happened to be very well equipped for this sort of thing. While he waited for someone to pick up, he issued orders to some of his more trusted enforcers.
The Novorossiya, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean en route to the Philippines
Vadim Kleitsin, Oleg Kleitsin's half-brother through their legendarily unfaithful and happily deceased father, stomped onto the bridge of his heavily modified freighter. His other half-brother, Lev, who bore no relation to Oleg, looked up. "Your brother wants to talk." Lev handed the phone handset to Vadim and resumed his post on the bridge.
"Brother. To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice?" Vadim rolled his eyes. The last time he had seen Oleg, the two of them had been burying the remains of their father after a car bomb, probably from Oleg, had blown him to pieces and left the top spot in the Orelskaya Brotherhood up for grabs. Vadim had been content to let his brother take over. He preferred sailing.
I hope it's not too much of an ask..." Oleg began. Vadim sighed. It looked like Oleg needed a favour. "Our friends in state security, you know them? The ones who pay nicely. Anyway, they want us to recover some ship called the Masada. Apparently its got a valuable cargo and the GUVD want to have a crack at it. They'll pay handsomely and we can split the money fifty-fifty. What do you say?"
"Firstly," Vadim growled, "There is no us, not since you failed to show up with that shipment three months ago. Secondly, state security business always has a catch. Thirdly, I've been listening to marine radio bands and that ship's been missing for a fortnight, at least. The trail's cold. Finally, there are apparently pirates after it. You know how things are with the Somalis, ever since we blew up a load of their skiffs. I'm not sailing my ship into a warzone."
"Calm down, calm down." Oleg tried to sound reassuring. "The GUVD will pay three mil. for the cargo but I've been thinking. We could probably get paid more if we sold it to someone else. And the GUVD has agreed to pay us compensation even if we fail. We could work for the highest bidder and make a mint."
Vadim turned it over in his head. "Fine." He thought it over again. "But I want compensation for the weapons I'm carrying at the moment. The clients won't be too happy since I assume you want me to go immediately." He hung up and turned to Lev. "Chart a new course."
"Where?" Lev asked. Vadim told him.
Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2020 1:21 pm
by Rusliv
Palatial Hall, Kiev
In the dim light of one of the Hall's secluded offices, a number of men had gathered, all hunched over a map. Their grim and brooding expressions and hushed tones served to further highlight the secrecy of whatever event was taking place in the room, and one could easily assume this was a meeting of great importance. Standing at the head of the table was the Protector, clad in his signature camouflage military fatigues as always.
"Gentlemen, what we have here is an opportunity to further our great country's influence in the world. And clearly this ship-- or something on it, is valuable. Why else would the Kafairis invest so much in the situation?" Said the Protector, glancing around at the faces of his comrades. It had been somewhat of a forgotten dream of the Protector's to strike a blow at Kafair in some form. For whatever reason, he disliked the nation. Now that an opportunity had presented itself, he found himself once again wishing to hinder their government.
"We have the ships coordinates. We have the resources we need to overcome the pirates. But the problem is, we can't stage a full-on assault lest we risk damaging the ship." Said one of the various officials positioned around the map. The man's point was blatantly obvious, which annoyed the Protector.
"Yes, I know. But that still leaves us with the question of who or what we can use to claim the vessel. And of course, there will most likely be a number of third parties vying for control of the ship. We cannot negotiate with the pirates. They are savages, brutes, and will respond in the only language they know: violence. We need to outgun them, but discreetly."
"OSIO. OSIO should be able to do it. Their purpose is to carry out tasks such this, correct? A small crew of operators with a civilian ship and crew may work."
"Hmmmm... That could work. Fetch me General Ljuda. I want him to organize a task force and set out for the Pacific. He'll be arranging how his men get there, though.[/i]
Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2020 8:44 pm
by Americae Roma
Pearl Harbor
The Masada oil tanker was originally reported missing in the Al Shaheen oil field, when it's last known sighting to be approximately south of Australia, command of the search operation was quickly transferred from Al Udeid air base of CENTCOM to Pearl Harbor's Pacific fleet. It is strongly suspected that the Masada was transporting a WMD device and thus damaging the ship whatsoever is unacceptable. A 60 men Navy SEAL boarding team has been assembled and assigned a Ticonderoga class guided missile cruiser as their mobile garrison, meanwhile the Pacific Command is to use all reconnaissance asset to locate the Masada, after viscon has been established with the Masada, the Ticonderoga class cruiser is to move in and deploy the boarding team to seize the cargo and the ship, while the Ticonderoga provide fire support to defend the boarding party.
Diego Garcia
One of the first aircraft deployed were a flight of 4 RQ-170 stealth drone as well as 5 MQ-4C Triton recon drone taking off from Diego Garcia, escourted by 8 F-15C Eagle fighters and 5 F-22 Raptor stealth fighters, they are to head towards coordinate 60 South, 135 West, the last known sighting of the Masada. The drones are to begin their search by conducting an electronic scan of the area in order to pick up any transmissions from the Masada before beginning a visual scan using the powerful electro-visual sensors of the drones, meanwhile, the 14 fighters are to provide cover for these 9 drones and engage any possible hostile aircraft or vessel in the area.
Andersen AFB, Guam
As the drones headed for 60 south, 135 west, 3 P-8 Poseidon as well as 12 P-3 Orion Maritime surveillance aircraft took off from Andersen AFB in Guam, towards the same direction as the drones, escourted by 25 fighters, 10 F/A-18 super hornets, 5 F-35 lightning stealth fighters and 5 F-22 Raptor stealth fighters and 5 F-15C eagles, the 15 maritime surveillance aircraft are to link up with the drones and begin the search properly for the Masada, the 25 fighters are also link up with the 14 fighters combined to create a large fighter cover for the combined surveillance task force of 9 drones and 15 Maritime surveillance aircraft.
USS Gettysburg, Ticonderoga Class Guided Missile Cruiser
The 60 men Navy SEAL boarding team are to be garrisoned on board USS Gettysburg, a Ticonderoga Class guided missile cruiser, and deploy to the South Indian Ocean, ready to quickly reach the Masada in case of viscon with the Masada, the Ticonderoga cruiser is carrying two Cyclone class fast attack craft that the Navy SEAL boarding team will be carried on to board the Masada. The two SH-60 seahawk helicopter that the ticonderoga class carries will also be used in the search. The ticonderoga cruiser is authourized to engage all hostile vessels and aircraft in the search area.
Posted: Sun Mar 29, 2020 10:15 pm
by Uvoan
SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTHERN PACIFIC - UGN FAST PATROL GROUP 4-B CALL SIGN 'FITZGERALD'
The flaps on the FS1-1X lowered as it skittered across the water, soon rising and folding away it's ski- The afterburners suddenly flicking on, as the FS1-1X went full vertical, climbing to altitude, and then leveling out. Banking into a shallow curve, as another FS1-1X soon rose up to join it, the two then turning out on a patrol path away from the TS3-X mothership...
Fast Patrol Group Four B had been deployed as apart of a joint Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance effort- With precise goals better left unsaid to who-ever else might be hunting the ship. The 20 combat sea-jets available to said combined effort had originally been apart of some other on-going efforts closer to Charlemagne itself, but they'd been re-organized as the situation had drastically called for it- After-all, a missing super-tanker wasn't something that happened all too often.
"Flight B, maintain contact." The radio crackled, as the two pilots listened in. "You'll be doing a standard patrol layout with loadout option 4. You'll be doing a patrol around... 2,000 kilometers round-trip. Keep your radars online, and watch those missiles. We don't need any international incidents kicking off, especially not with the instability lingering in some of our allies in this op. You'll be following pre-designated patrol route Charlie, and about halfway through, NOSA command wants you to a fly-by of some of Northumbria's FalPacs, and say hi. Affirm?"
The two fighters called in an affirmative, as they soon banked to follow the patrol-route, engines roaring...
And they weren't the only ones to be doing so- 8 other aircraft had formed into such two-man patrol teams, and were now combing every kilometer of the Southern Pacific with the same intensity. Back on the 'ground', a mechanic idly fiddled with a radio, snippets of songs playing as he flipped through channels. Another mechanic lazing nearby, taking advantage of the lull of their jet being out on patrol to relax for a few hours.
They certainly hadn't been expecting this sudden shift in deployment- Sure they'd been alerted to the disappearance of Masada- Every navy on earth would be stupid to ignore the reports of a super-tanker going missing, especially one that the Kaifarians were now desperate to get back. Calling on every government, PMC, and whatever rando had a sea-going vessel to hunt it down. That was where the NOSA had quickly formed a plan- Uvoan's fast sea-planes, already having been in the area of Charlemange when the call had gone out, had quickly been moved about- The advantages of having such a force, after-all.
Now Force 4 was sitting off the coast of some tropical island, and playing the waiting game as their jets scoured the ocean for any sign of the tanker. The operation was, questionably, either on or off the records- Orders had come through side-channels. For all the 100 man force knew, they knew nothing- But they were generally fine with that. Came with the territory. Even as the TS3-X bobbed in the waves, the crew were still waiting for any further orders- That would certainly tell their own story... Air-Wing Commander Alaxis sighed as he looked over the maps. "You mean to tell me this damn thing just up and vanished? How the hell does a suppie just do that?" The two intel officers shared a glance.
"We don't know. We suspect it has to do with the unknown cargo. And the anarchists that are bouncing about." One of them answered, leaning forward to highlight a fairly big zone on the map. "Just to give you a rough idea though, Commander, we're looking at an absolutely massive area where it might've vanished- Over 10 billion square kilometers of ocean. We're going to be searching for days- If not another week, to catch this thing. And that's if we push the limit." He finished with, letting the Commander study the map...
"Well, they do expect us to find it, somehow. Keep me updated, I need to go coordinate with our other assets. We have far too much ocean to search."
"Aye aye, captain."
UVOANIAN GRAND NAVY COMMAND CENTER - EXPOLIA HARBOR
"You've certainly moved fast."
"Indeed- We had to. They were the closest assets, and with NOSA moving in, we had to make our own contribution- So our fast patrollers got moved there. I know a few other nations will be glad for the extended air support."
"Do not put us into a second international incident with Kafair- Atleast, one we won't win."
"You have my word, Sir."
"Good- I trust your judgement on this, Adama. Dismissed."
SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTHERN PACIFIC - UGN FAST PATROL GROUP 4-B CALL SIGN 'FITZGERALD'
The flaps on the FS1-1X lowered as it skittered across the water, soon rising and folding away it's ski- The afterburners suddenly flicking on, as the FS1-1X went full vertical, climbing to altitude, and then leveling out. Banking into a shallow curve, as another FS1-1X soon rose up to join it, the two then turning out on a patrol path away from the TS3-X mothership...
Fast Patrol Group Four B had been deployed as apart of a joint Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance effort- With precise goals better left unsaid to who-ever else might be hunting the ship. The 20 combat sea-jets available to said combined effort had originally been apart of some other on-going efforts closer to Charlemagne itself, but they'd been re-organized as the situation had drastically called for it- After-all, a missing super-tanker wasn't something that happened all too often.
"Flight B, maintain contact." The radio crackled, as the two pilots listened in. "You'll be doing a standard patrol layout with loadout option 4. You'll be doing a patrol around... 2,000 kilometers round-trip. Keep your radars online, and watch those missiles. We don't need any international incidents kicking off, especially not with the instability lingering in some of our allies in this op. You'll be following pre-designated patrol route Charlie, and about halfway through, NOSA command wants you to a fly-by of some of Northumbria's FalPacs, and say hi. Affirm?"
The two fighters called in an affirmative, as they soon banked to follow the patrol-route, engines roaring...
And they weren't the only ones to be doing so- 8 other aircraft had formed into such two-man patrol teams, and were now combing every kilometer of the Southern Pacific with the same intensity. Back on the 'ground', a mechanic idly fiddled with a radio, snippets of songs playing as he flipped through channels. Another mechanic lazing nearby, taking advantage of the lull of their jet being out on patrol to relax for a few hours.
They certainly hadn't been expecting this sudden shift in deployment- Sure they'd been alerted to the disappearance of Masada- Every navy on earth would be stupid to ignore the reports of a super-tanker going missing, especially one that the Kaifarians were now desperate to get back. Calling on every government, PMC, and whatever rando had a sea-going vessel to hunt it down. That was where the NOSA had quickly formed a plan- Uvoan's fast sea-planes, already having been in the area of Charlemange when the call had gone out, had quickly been moved about- The advantages of having such a force, after-all.
Now Force 4 was sitting off the coast of some tropical island, and playing the waiting game as their jets scoured the ocean for any sign of the tanker. The operation was, questionably, either on or off the records- Orders had come through side-channels. For all the 100 man force knew, they knew nothing- But they were generally fine with that. Came with the territory. Even as the TS3-X bobbed in the waves, the crew were still waiting for any further orders- That would certainly tell their own story... Air-Wing Commander Alaxis sighed as he looked over the maps. "You mean to tell me this damn thing just up and vanished? How the hell does a suppie just do that?" The two intel officers shared a glance.
"We don't know. We suspect it has to do with the unknown cargo. And the anarchists that are bouncing about." One of them answered, leaning forward to highlight a fairly big zone on the map. "Just to give you a rough idea though, Commander, we're looking at an absolutely massive area where it might've vanished- Over 10 billion square kilometers of ocean. We're going to be searching for days- If not another week, to catch this thing. And that's if we push the limit." He finished with, letting the Commander study the map...
"Well, they do expect us to find it, somehow. Keep me updated, I need to go coordinate with our other assets. We have far too much ocean to search."
"Aye aye, captain."
UVOANIAN GRAND NAVY COMMAND CENTER - EXPOLIA HARBOR
"You've certainly moved fast."
"Indeed- We had to. They were the closest assets, and with NOSA moving in, we had to make our own contribution- So our fast patrollers got moved there. I know a few other nations will be glad for the extended air support."
"Do not put us into a second international incident with Kafair- Atleast, one we won't win."
"You have my word, Sir."
"Good- I trust your judgement on this, Adama. Dismissed."
CHARLEMAGNE OFFICE OF COMMERCE & SHIPPING - CHARLES ROCK, CHARLEMAGNE (THE CHUCK) COMMISSIONER NATHANIEL HALSEY
Nathaniel Halsey was sitting at his office desk when the Kafairi request for aid in searching for the Masada. A few minutes after his office received the request, a Naval Intelligence Attaché came in with a short report listing out the known details of the disappearance of the Masada. As Nathaniel read over it, he walked towards the war room and was joined by various members of his office. Once he got to the war room, a sizable group had convened and were waiting for him to speak.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as you all now know, the Kafairi ship, "Masada" has gone missing. We have a rather jagged and rough relation with the Kafairi government and frankly, our administration would like to avoid any political clashes with the Sultan since we are technically leaderless at this time. As you all might remember, there has been numerous times where we have called the Kafairis both friend and foe. Now once again we are at the crossroads of deciding whether to call them friend, foe, or neutral. I personally have decided however that this issue will not be the issue of the Charlemagne military. However, that does not mean our nation will sit idly by while such a large prize is waiting to be collected. Contact the Charlemagne Naval Militia command and put a finders bounty of 25 million Argentums out and also contact Chairlady Roseanne Farrington at Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance headquarters. I want to see if our friends are willing to pursue the Masada in a joint operation for remember what our motto is... Ex Mari Percunia Venit, 'From the Sea, Comes Wealth!'"
NORTHERN OCEAN STRATEGIC ALLIANCE HEADQUARTERS - COMMON DISTRICT, PORT ARTHUR PE MILITARY COUNCIL CHAIR LADY ROSEANNE FARRINGTON
Roseanne Farrington was out of her office and at a conference in the NOSA HQ building in Port Arthur when the report from Commissioner Halsey over at the Office of Commerce & Shipping came through. Looking over it, she pardoned herself from the meeting and hurried back to her office and gathered various members of her office while writing a letter to other NOSA member administrations. As her officer members discussed and advised her, she continued to write the letter.
To: NOSA Council Leadership - Honourable Charles Darby, Port Ember - General Rayna Shaw, Iarann Grudaidh - Chairman Silon Delah, Uvoan - Chairman Aiphystus Kunmynus, Ignis States From: Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington Date: 3/30/2020 Topic: Missing Kafairi Ship - Joint Search and Capture MissionTo my fellow NOSA council members,
I am writing you all today with regards to the disappearance of the Kafairi ship, Masada. I am requesting that either your respective administrations or private ventures within your nations join with us in a joint NOSA sponsored mission to search, find, and claim this ship for the glory of the Northern Ocean. As I write, assets of the Charlemagne Naval Militia are heading south from our national waters to join in the hunt for the Masada. In addition to maritime assets of the C.N.M., the Fort Short Littoral Magnetic Equipment Network (LIMEN) will attempt to provide extreme long range surveillance to assist in the finding of the Masada. I look forward to your responses.
Sincerely,
Roseanne Farrington
150 MILES OFF THE SOUTHERN COAST OF CHARLEMAGNE (THE CHUCK) - MID PACIFIC OCEAN - CNM Task Unit Charlie Romeo 21 CALL SIGN 'NORTHUMBRIA'
Three new 185 foot B.C.H. ShipyardsFast Littoral Patrol Craft (FaLPaC)of Charlemagne Naval Militia Task Unit Charlie Romeo 21 were patrolling the southern edge of the Charlemagne Exclusive Economic Zone when the CNM chain of command was informed of the Office of Shipping & Commerce's decision. As such, these three ships of the "Black Jack" squadron were re-designated call sign "Northumbria" and peeled south to begin searching for the Masada.
Each 185 foot FaLPaC was equipped with a bow twin 40mm turrets, two quad mount MANPADS air defense stations, eight open air twin 20mm autocannon mounts on the port and starboard sides, and six Mark 97 anti-submarine warfare munitions ramps. In addition to this weaponry, each FaLPaC's electronic warfare array consisted of a long range 3D aerial and surface search radar array operating on the 5450 to 5825 MHz scale with a range of 220 nautical miles, a short range aerial and surface targeting radar with an acquisition range of 11 nautical miles, deep water low frequency maritime SONAR, and four anti-missile chaff launch boxes mounted on the bow and aft with 16 rechargeable chaff tubes total. In addition to both the weaponry and electronic warfare suite of the FaLPaCs, each had a rear helipad with a Lindberg Aerial Solutions Light Maritime Search & Attack Helicopter. Each helicopter had a maximum range of 250 nautical miles and a maximum takeoff weight of 4,100 lbs (1,860 kilograms).
Posted: Mon Mar 30, 2020 5:38 am
by South Reinkalistan
20 miles north of Sinop, Black Sea 10:13 PM
The Vengeance glided through the water, a small yet sea-faring vessel crossing the black sea, precariously close - yet just eluding - Kafairi territorial waters. Its crew, well trained but few in number, sat waiting. At its consistent speed of 40 knots, the Vengeance would reach the opening to the Bosporus in just over 8 and a half hours. In the meantime, Reskten-Vosk was busy monitoring the map charts. The Kafairi would undoubtedly notice them, but with so many actors attempting to seize this ship for themselves, the Reinkalistani policy was most definitely speed over secrecy.
Besides, with the amount of straight-up bribery at the Bosporus strait that the South Reinkalistani government had sponsored, it wouldn't take much for the small ship to get through at all.
The Captain was proud of his vessel. Nuclear-powered despite its size, it was quite a novel addition to the Red Fleet. This would allow it to make the voyage ahead without ceasing its pursuit of the Masada, bar any exceptional circumstances such as hull damage. Their current objectives, however, were to establish contact with the Cardinal Fleet. Reskten-Vosk personally found the very idea of collaborating with anarchists to be a sickening notion - and Kafairi anarchists at that - but his prejudices aside, he realised the benefits of making a temporary alliance with these misguided revolutionaries. The Masada would - inadvertently - end up in Reinkalistani hands if they managed to pull this off correctly.
Sighing and lighting up a cigarette, the old and jaded seaman walked onto the deck and leaned over the side, ash dropping into the waves below. He looked to his left, at the distant Kafairi shoreline, and smiled. The faint moonlight reflected off the waters, illuminating his face - a spectre in the dark. Whatever would happen next wasn't certain, but it would most certainly be interesting. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, and breathed smoke out into the night. "Si vis pacem," he muttered softly, gazing at the stars.
"Para bellum."
Commissariat of the Exterior Official Statement
The People's Federation, through the Commissariat of the Exterior, issues the following statement for the benefit of national governments and independent actors worldwide, in regards to the Kafairi government's call for help in locating the missing Masada oil tanker.
It has come to the attention of the South Reinkalistani People's Congress that as of late many states have undertaken procedures to locate the Masada, by means official or otherwise. As of right now, the People's Federation can state that no branch of South Reinkalistan's armed forces has initiated measures to interfere the operations of any foreign country in the Pacific Ocean. However, the Commissariat of the Exterior, on behalf of the Premier, wishes to make it clear that it commends the efforts of an organisation that calls itself "the Cardinal Fleet". Despite the doctrinal and religious differences it doubtlessly faces as compared to South Reinkalistan, recent happenings have shone light on the incompetence of the Kafairi ruling elite, their bourgeois taint, and the tyrannical royalist governance that they subject the Kafairi people to.
However, worse than the corrupt kleptocrats who command the decaying Sultanate, the Blood Blade Syndicate has nothing but the complete and utter condemnation of the People's Congress. The Turaniski administration shares the convictions of the Kafairi government that the loss of the Masada can likely be attributed to the nefarious operations of this criminal institute.
Regardless, the People's Federation, as of now, has no wish to involve itself materially in these affairs.
Posted: Mon Mar 30, 2020 2:06 pm
by Bulgar Rouge
Somewhere in Southeast Asia
The Fyon-class were remarkably versatile vessels. Not only were they faster than any warship out there, but they could carry small aircraft, drones, many troops and sizeable amounts of cargo. The Transitional Heavenly State was making great use of them for their drug and weapons smuggling operations across Southeast Asia, but now they were to be deployed for a whole new sort of task. Two slightly modified boats, better prepared to carry helicopters in addition to their main load, were well on their way to the South Pacific. The THS had secured port access and refueling for the two vessels along their way - through bribery, intimidation, or both.
This was not sergeant Kepov's first mission overseas, but it was definitely the most challenging so far. A few other officers and crewmen had already scrambled across the bridge after the briefing ended, but the young sergeant continued looking at the waypoints on the map. Several stops for refueling and a small but daring operation before the search for the ship would begin in earnest. State Security had not provided him with sufficient information, but given his high security clearance, it was obvious that they weren't withholding things. Knowledge on this boat was apparently scarce, its known itinerary was bizarre, and SIGINT was reporting increased communication in the region. Somebody else was seemingly interested in getting their hands on whatever cargo this mammoth was carrying. Additional satellite intelligence was being gathered from visual, SAR and transponder tracking, but nothing specific on the Masada itself yet.
The sergeant pulled out his special, State Security-issued Rila encryption smartphone and checked his incoming messages. The port chief at Mawlamyine - one of the most senior THS commercial officers - had sent what was expected of him. With a slight degree of excitement, Kepov opened the message and stated reading. His suspicions were correct - the so-called Blood Blade Syndicate had carried out transactions through THS-controlled front banks and exchanges, and had traded with THS companies, particularly in small arms.
"Get in touch with them. Send them the following through Rila-BZ900:
This is the State Security Department of the Bulgar Rouge.
Regarding recent events related to the Masada, we are interested in carrying out security-related actions in the South Pacific. Should you choose to cooperate with us, we can offer the following:
Ample financial stimulus through our Second Economic Committee;
We are interested in establishing a presence in the New Zealand region and acquiring additional information on the whereabouts of the vessel. We will disclose more about our operation upon your explicit agreement to cooperate.
The moment he tapped "Send", he knew things were set in motion. The thrill of a new operation unfolding was ever present, and a slight but diabolical smile appeared on Kepov's face as he looked towards the front deck and what was covered there. These old but trustworthy machines would be of great use for what was to come.
Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2020 2:21 am
by Americae Roma
Somewhere close to Southern Australia
A P-8 poseidon maritime recon aircraft, part of the search party
The 9 drones and the 15 reconnaissance aircraft deployed from various pacific forward air bases as well as their fighter escorts have reached the last known area of the Masada to begin their search properly, meanwhile, the USS gettysburg ticonderoga class cruiser garrisoning the 60 men SEAL team, has also moved close to Southern Australia, ready to mount a boarding attempt should viscon with the Masada be established. The drones and aircraft begin their search using their powerful electronics and optical sensors. In order to fuel and maintain the aircraft and drone, a carrier strike group is also be to moved to Southern Australia, be able to more immediately fuel and maintaining deployed aircraft and drones.
USS gettysburg entering the last known area of the Masada with a 60 men SEAL team.
SEAL team operatives in marksmanship training aboard the USS Gettysburg
Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2020 5:09 am
by Port Ember
The Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance Headquarters Building Complex in Common District; Colony of Port Arthur - Office of the Secretary-General Charles Darby
Charles was seated on his plush leather office chair, enjoying the best damm mug of coffee he had ever tasted. He was currently ignoring the ever growing and never ending stack of paperwork laying menacingly on top of his lavishly engraved ebony desk, instead focussing all his focus - and senses - on the delicious hot liquid beverage.
Charles Darby was the first ever appointed Secretary General of the Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance, formed by the Republic of Port Ember in order to unite and strengthen ties between the nations situated within the Northern Ocean geographical area. "A strong and united region - is a prosperous region." as the President of Port Ember, Edward Flint regularly states. Before the esteablishment of this alliance, Charles used to work in the World Assembly Delegation of Port Ember - and before that was the Port Emberian ambassador to The Armed Republic of The Chuck, and before that he served in various administrative and diplomatic capacaties all accross the globe. So this appointment sits well with him - an lifetime diplomat and administrator - reaching the nexus of his line of trade in his opinion. And being stationed within the newly eatablished Port Emberian Colony of Port Arthur was not a challenge, since the majority of his life has been spend outside of the nation he calls home anyway.
A knock on and subsequent opening of his heavy yellow-wood door snapped Charles from his near-trance like state. Enters Charles' secretary, Miss Riley Peters, a 20 something year old Port Emberian lass with long blonde hair and green eyes. The lass known for her friendly yet always professional nature was wearing a black female business suit. "Sir, appologies for disturbing, an urgent letter from Chairlady Farrington..." Charles sighed softly, as he reluctantly placed his mug of bliss down onto the table. Without a word further being spoken, the leather folder binded was transferred to his hands and Miss Peters took her leave, closing the heavy door behind her.
It was a bit surprising to receive such a formal letter from the NOSA Chairperson of the Military Council before a informal discussion was held between them, as they normally 'pannelbeated' matters at hand first, and especially since they were situated within the same office complex. Regardless, Charles opened the folder and continued reading intently, after fitting his reading spectacles offcourse.
To: NOSA Council Leadership - Honourable Charles Darby, Port Ember - General Rayna Shaw, Iarann Grudaidh - Chairman Silon Delah, Uvoan - Chairman Aiphystus Kunmynus, Ignis States From: Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington Date: 3/30/2020 Topic: Missing Kafairi Ship - Joint Search and Capture MissionTo my fellow NOSA council members,
I am writing you all today with regards to the disappearance of the Kafairi ship, Masada. I am requesting that either your respective administrations or private ventures within your nations join with us in a joint NOSA sponsored mission to search, find, and claim this ship for the glory of the Northern Ocean. As I write, assets of the Charlemagne Naval Militia are heading south from our national waters to join in the hunt for the Masada. In addition to maritime assets of the C.N.M., the Fort Short Littoral Magnetic Equipment Network (LIMEN) will attempt to provide extreme long range surveillance to assist in the finding of the Masada. I look forward to your responses.
Sincerely,
Roseanne Farrington
Charles frowned as he finished reading the letter and another soft sigh escaped his lips. This was an.. rather unorthodox occurance, as combined military operations had to be planned, co-ordinated and voted upon during a seating of the Military Council before execution. Yet it seems there were no way to follow protocol now - the Chuckians have allready entered operational mode, 'join in or not - we are going anyway' seems to be their chosen modus operandi. Another deep sigh.
*****
After roughly an hour of heated telephonic conversations between Charles and the upper echelons of the Port Emberian Security Forces Navy back home, a favourable result was finally achieved.
A correspondance was quickly drafted and forwarded to the applicable recepients.
To: NOSA Council Leadership - Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington, The Chuck - General Rayna Shaw, Iarann Grudaidh - Chairman Silon Delah, Uvoan - Chairman Aiphystus Kunmynus, Ignis States From: Honourable Charles Darby Date: 3/30/2020 Topic: RE: Missing Kafairi Ship - Joint Search and Capture MissionTo my fellow NOSA council members,
I am writing to you all today regarding the subject title, as a formal reply to the irregular request formulated by Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington, and as an extention, the decision from the Government of the Republic of Port Ember.
As time is not on our side relating to this matter, my response will reflect such in being short and concise, unmuddled with political, diplomatical, legal and precedural context.
Thus - The Port Ember Security Forces Navy will comply with the above mentioned request, and send one operational naval vessel towards the operational area to partake within the Joint Search & Capture Operation - Port Emberian designation - Operation Ra. The Port Ember Security Forces Navy will also utilise its network of spy satelites to continiously conduct sweeps over suspected areas to aid in the mission.
To your Health & Wealth!!!
Honourable Charles Darby NOSA Secretary General
The moment the letter was forwarded, a second correspondance was forwarded to the office of Roseanne Farrington, but hand written without any identification markings. A "Spy Note" as Charles named them.
Ma'am.
I do understand that urgency trumps protocol at times, yet it does cause harm to an old administrator's hearts regardless. The Organisation maintains rules, laws and procedures for a reason - ensure you stick to them in future. We do not need to place unnecesary strain on an allready straining relationship between our mothers. If you plan to respond in some manner of diplomatic explanatory tone - rather dont. Kind regards..
The piece of "spy note" would quickly find its way to the hands of Roseanne in a anonoumys manner. 200 Nautical Miles Off The Southern Coast of Port Ember - Mid Pacific Ocean - PES Davy Jones - Crusuo Class Corvette - Call Sign Pioneer.
The PES Davy Jones - a brand new modern Crusuo Class Corvette, under command of Lt Cmdr Shandra Jerro, was busy conducting a routine naval patrol off the coast of the Republic of Port Ember when she received supplemantary orders from Naval Command. The Captain was bridge-side ad she was handed her new orders, reading through it carefully.
Port Ember Security Forces Navy Dragon Flotilla Task Force Alpha Naval Command
From: Naval Command; Dragon Flotilla: Task Force Alpha.
To: Captain Of PES Davy Jones
ATT: Lt Cmdr S. Jerro
Encryption:Highest
1. You are hereby instructed to cancel your current patrol operation - Effective Immediately.
2. You are now under command of Navy Command; Clandestine Opperations - Effective Immediately.
3. You, your crew and vessel are now part of Operation Ra - Effective Immediately.
4. Your new NOSA Assigned codename is "Liberty, Effective Immediately.
4. You are to enter "Wartime Protocal 1" - Effective Immediately.
5. The PES Davy Jones is to conduct a Search & Capture Mission relating to the Kafair Supertanker "Masada" at the provided co-ordinates with immediate effect, and await further orders once completed."
The thick forwarded file had a mountain of appendixes, listing important coordinates, status of allied vessels part of the operation, pledged support structures, rules of engagement, communication information and rules - to name but a few.
The Captain's lips formed a soft smile while scanning through the folder, sensing the excitement of the adventure ahead. A simple rougue "Well shit..." escaped her lips. Shandra grabbed the handset to the vessel's intercom and punched her orders throughout the vessel and her crew, "This is your captain speaking.. Change of plans...."
Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2020 6:12 am
by Yegla Islands
Chernograd Governmental Complex Black Wing 7:22 AM
The lounge-area was, as per usual, filled with smoke. The man entering wasn't exactly surprised by this - stepping towards the black coils, he didn't bat an eye when they parted before him, granting him a clear path to the center of the room. He called out to the chamber's only other occupant, currently reclining in an armchair by the hearth. Wisps of smoke trailed off the jet-black cigar he clasped between two fingers.
"Have you got a moment?"
"Of course. Have a seat."
Nodding, the newcomer made his way over to the neighboring armchair, and seated himself. They both stared into the fire for a few moments, before he spoke once more.
"There are... developments."
"On what front?"
"The Kafairian tanker. It has... not resurfaced, exactly. But there are pointers."
"Of sufficient magnitude to warrant an intervention?"
"Perhaps. I presume you've looked into the datapackets that were distributed with regards to the matter."
"Aye. And you know my thoughts on this talk of bioweapons."
"Am I to take that as authorization?"
"Perhaps. I am also taken to believe that a few of our... hah, friends, have already jumped in on the hunt."
"Correct. Quite a few familiar faces, all in all. Some friendly, others..."
"Others we would prefer to stay buried with the tanker. And that can be arranged, can it not?"
"Oh, most certainly."
"Do you have an op group in mind?"
"Of course. The necessary arrangements have already been made, command-side, and assets in the field are currently on standby."
"I expected nothing less. How large a force?"
"Three."
"Three... vessels, I presume. Were you to pull this off with three men, I would have to start questioning your access to some of our less conventional personnel pools."
"Hah. Vessels, yes. I'd considered employing just the one, but the Adrianna isn't the sort of thing we should be squandering on trips such as this."
"So not the wonder-ship, then. Not to worry - our fleets bear wonders aplenty. A few corvettes, I presume?"
"Two. No need to raise undue hackles. And a Cetus."
"Oho? Are we to sink a fleet, then?"
"It is the Mirny."
"Ah. In truth, I had been curious as to what would be done with the refit schematics."
"Sate your curiosity, then. I'll dispatch the relevant dossiers shortly."
"Yes... you do seem to have the angles covered."
He sighed deeply, sending out twin streams of smoke to join the mass. His companion tilted his head ever-so-slightly."
"A long day?"
"You could say that. A long week."
"Thus is the burden we bear."
"Of course. And I voice no objection. We made the choice, after all."
"Indeed."
Another, momentary pause - what each man saw in the crackling flames was difficult to tell. Visions of a tanker, perhaps. The silence was broken by another sigh, this time from both of them simultaneously.
"I shall make the necessary arrangements, then."
"And I will work on... raising interest."
"Oh? Do you plan on calling out for aid?"
"Not directly. But let us say that there are parties already involved in this whom I would far rather have working with us than against us. And I believe the sentiment to be mutual. All I have to do is insinuate."
"Ah yes. The power of implication. I'll leave you to it."
They nodded to each other, and thus the relative newcomer rose from his seat, and made his way back out through the smoke. The soft click of the closing door was muffled, somewhat, for the remaining figure was now shrouded in a veritable maelstrom of smoke. And then, in but a moment, it cleared. The man stood. Brushing a few stray specks of ash off an immaculate, slate-grey suit, he made his way to the very edge of the room, and to a wholly different door - beyond, his office awaited.
Dmitri Rasputin, Vozhd of Yegla Islands, settled down at his desk, powered up his workstation, and promptly got to... raising interest. Allies were a valuable commodity in a climate such as this.
On the bridge of the YCV Mirniy, Captain Osip Yolkin paced. He was not, typically-speaking, a nervous man. But even one with nerves of steel would be suitably perturbed in his position - diverted from what was to be a routine patrol, sent along what was apparently a secured route, though he himself had previously had no knowledge of it, and directed to wait for rendezvous with unspecified parties at a semi-specified spot along said route - all through the indistinct, shadowy mechanism that was the Commissariat. But then, he supposed, there was little point to worrying now. The Commissars had their directives, and he had his own - he supposed that whatever it was his ship had been requisitioned for would likely fall within his usual clearance parameters, at least to some extent. Even they couldn't go against protocol.
A nearby comms officer called for his attention.
"Sir, we've got incoming hails from two separate vessels! Both UYDF-affiliated, and both within op-radius."
Making his way back to his command chair, Yolkin nodded.
"Patch them both through."
The monitor before him flickered to life, displaying... two faces. Both outlined by the same uniform and cap, same insignia, and yet the similarities ended there. A towering hulk of a man, seemingly in his mid-forties, with a placid expression that suggested a wholly calm state of mind. And a woman, seemingly quite a bit younger, and bearing a look of singular focus. Her eyes, so cold one could practically see the screen frosting up. The man spoke first.
"Captain Bortsov, Eleventh Task Element of the UYDF's Pacific aux-fleet, reporting for duty."
"Captain Goryemykina, Patrol Group Twenty-Seven of the UYDF global responce force, reporting for duty."
Yolkin was somewhat taken aback.
"...At ease. Is there some miscommunication? I don't have command seniority over either of you, to the best of my knowledge. As such, I'm-"
"Sir!"
Irritably, he turned to the comms officer once more.
"What now?"
"Another hail, this time directly from CentCom!"
"...Ah. Patch them into the group."
A moment later, a third face cropped up beside the first two. An unassuming man bearing a faint smile - the effect was slightly marred by the small scar crossing the left side of his lips.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I humbly apologize for the speed at which this arrangement was reached - we've had trouble getting the intel to catch up to the operatives, so to speak. I aim to rectify this. Commisssar Varushkin, at your service - I will be carrying out remote oversight of this operation. Field oversight will fall to Provisional Rear-Admiral Yolkin - congratulations, by the way."
Yolkin suppressed a sigh. This was going to be an... interesting outing. Protocol, indeed.
Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2020 11:32 am
by Iarann Grudaidh
Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance HQ - Port Arthur; PE Supreme Military Commander Reyna Shaw
Reyna Shaw was sitting in her office attempting to complete her mountain of paperwork. She soon realized that she's ran out of coffee, with a heavy, tired sigh she rose from her leather chair and got up to walk to the door when her assistant Lia Thompson came in. "ma'am, a letter for you.", Lia would hand over a letter addressed to members of the Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance, she'd thank her assistant and close the door, completely forgetting about her urge for coffee. She'd plop back down on her leather chair and look at the letter, reading it carefully.
To: NOSA Council Leadership - Honourable Charles Darby, Port Ember - General Rayna Shaw, Iarann Grudaidh - Chairman Silon Delah, Uvoan - Chairman Aiphystus Kunmynus, Ignis States From: Supreme Military Commander Reyna Shaw Date: 3/30/2020 Topic: RE: Missing Kafairi Ship - Joint Search and Capture MissionTo my fellow NOSA council members,
I am writing you all today with regards to the disappearance of the Kafairi ship, Masada. I am requesting that either your respective administrations or private ventures within your nations join with us in a joint NOSA sponsored mission to search, find, and claim this ship for the glory of the Northern Ocean. As I write, assets of the Charlemagne Naval Militia are heading south from our national waters to join in the hunt for the Masada. In addition to maritime assets of the C.N.M., the Fort Short Littoral Magnetic Equipment Network (LIMEN) will attempt to provide extreme long range surveillance to assist in the finding of the Masada. I look forward to your responses.
Sincerely,
Roseanne Farrington
Once she finished reading it, she'd immediately rush to scan it and send it to the Supreme Leader, then proceed to call her. "Ma'am, I have recieved a letter from The Chuck's Chair Lady, Ms Farrington, they have requested that NOSA forces assist The Chuck in the capture of a missing Kafairian ship for the profit of Northern Ocean, I have sent the full letter to you." she'd speak "Thank you General Shaw, I will contact you once I have read it over." The Supreme Leader would reply before hanging up. A few minutes later she'd recieve a reply to the message greenlighting the operation. She'd immediately grab the phone to contact an Admiral of the Grudaidhian Navy and after a lengthy debate, they agreed on sending 3 patrol missile boats, fresh from Port Ember.
With this newfound agreement, she'd begin working on a reply.
To: NOSA Council Leadership - Honourable Charles Darby, Port Ember - Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington, The Chuck - Chairman Silon Delah, Uvoan - Chairman Aiphystus Kunmynus, Ignis States From: Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington Date: 3/30/2020 Topic: Missing Kafairi Ship - Joint Search and Capture MissionTo my fellow NOSA council members,
I am writing to inform you that the Search and Capture has been greenlit and our forces are working on sending out 3 of our Patrol Missile Boats from the Grudaidhian Naval Fleet to assist with the matter, I'd like to inform you that the ships will be going under the codename 'Stahl' and changes are to be made as such. Like our counterparts, we will be utilizing spy satelites to conduct sweeps. Any further information would be greatly appreciated regarding the matter.
Sincerely,
General Roseanne Farrington NOSA Supreme Military Commander
And so it began, 3 Patrol Missile Boats, codenamed Stahl were dispatched from Port Oscar in southern Iarann Grudaidh under the command of Lieutenant Commander Darren Owens. Their goal? Well, isn't that obvious? For the glory of the beautiful region known as Northern Ocean.
Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2020 1:19 pm
by Svadyetsk
Aboard the Novorossiya, somewhere off the coast of Northern Australia en route to the last known location of the Masada
The Novorossiya's engines hummed away, sending power through the ship's structure and driving the massive vessel onwards. With the prospect of combat looming, for the Masada was reported to be surrounded by pirates, Vadim had ordered the crew to break out the weapons. A rifle was propped up beside the door leading to the walkway that ran round the bridge and every crewman had a Kalashnikov close to hand. Along the deck, more crewmen were setting up the DShK heavy machine guns that Vadim kept around for combat situations. The guns were interspersed around the entire ship, giving overlapping fields of fire. Various wall mounted cases intended for fire hoses had been flung open and their contents piled on the deck near the hydrants that they connected to. In their place, RPGs had been placed inside, ready for use at a moment's notice. While all of this weaponry was overkill for its original purpose, discouraging Somali pirates whenever the ship traveled around the Horn of Africa, Vadim couldn't shake the feeling that they would be outgunned when they found the Masada.
Spying a dark shape off the port bow, Vadim raised his binoculars. An Australian customs boat. Brilliant. Vadim grabbed the microphone for the shipwide PA and ordered the crew to stow all of the weapons. A moment later, the radio crackled into life.
"Novorossiya, Novorossiya, this is ABFC Triton, over." The vessel hailing them appeared to be a modified tug boat. Vadim could see five customs officers on board. He scanned the shoreline. This part of the Australian coast appeared deserted.
He picked up the radio handset. "ABFC Triton, this is Captain Vadim Kleitsin of the Novorossiya, over." Hopefully they could get away without any trouble. "We are en route to-" Vadim tried to think of a southern port. "Perth, over."
"Novorossiya, please come to a complete stop. Prepare to be boarded, over. Vadim swore. The customs vessel was too far out for a swift elimination but was too close for the Novorossiya to outrun the little boat.
"All stop." Vadim checked the pistol he carried tucked into his belt. "I'll meet them and bring them below decks. If they don't get suspicious, we can just be on the way afterwards. But if they discover the smuggling compartments, we'll need to kill them." Lev nodded and began to quietly issue orders over the radio to some of the crew.
Vadim strolled out of the bridge and down to the main deck where the customs vessel was starting to draw up against the Novorossiya. The customs officer on the little boat's deck threw up a line. Vadim grabbed it and tied it to the railing as three of the customs agents, dressed in navy blue overalls and with Glock 17s on their belts, began to climb up the ladder against the ship's hull.
"G'day, mate." The lead customs officer held out a hand. "Sorry for all the hassle. We just gotta check your ship. The bosses in Canberra are getting nervous about all of the ships off the south coast. This won't take long."
Vadim ignored his hand. Silently, he led two of the customs agents through a hatch, the third remaining on the upper deck. As they traveled into the depths of the ship, Vadim outlined the cargo to the head agent. The legal cargo, that is.
As they passed one of the crewmen, the sailor turned to let them past, his jacket winging open. "Hey!" The customs agents stopped, turning to accost the sailor who was trying to cover the pistol that the first man had spotted in his waistband. "What the hell do you think you're playing at?" The lead agent's hand drifted towards the Glock at his hip.
Vadim grabbed the pistol from the other agent's holster and brought it down on the other man's head, hard. The customs agent crumpled as his superior turned to face the new threat. Vadim shot him once in the face, sending him falling backwards into the arms of the sailor. The first agent moaned and tried to get up. Vadim knelt beside him and hit him again with the pistol until the man's face was beyond recognition and the gun, and Vadim's sleeve, was coated in gore. Vadim stood and let the bloodied Glock fall to the deck. "Clean this up." He headed back towards the upper deck.
The third customs agent was clearly bored, not paying attention to the hatch his compatriots had gone through some minutes before. Evidently, he hadn't heard the shot. Vadim drew the knife from his belt, grabbed the man and slit his throat before dragging him down out of sight. When the man's twitching had stopped, Vadim signalled two of his crew who were loitering nearby. The men went over the side, down to the customs boat. A moment later, a shot rang out, then two more. Eventually, the sailor's head appeared over the raised side of the ship. "Got em, boss."
Vadim nodded. "Set charges to scuttle the boat, then we get going." The man nodded and went to fetch explosives from the hold.
A quarter of an hour later, the Novorossiya's engines lurched into life. The big ship had travelled nearly a kilometer by the time the charges in the customs boat blew, sending the little vessel to the bottom of the sea. With any luck, the sharks would take the bodies and this wouldn't be linked back to the Novorossiya.
Departures Lounge, Oleksy Duov International Airport, Duovograd, United Soviet States of Svadyetsk
As Vadim and his crew were committing murder on the other side of the planet, Fat Vasya was going through the toughest ordeal of his life. He'd survived a ten year stretch in a labour camp. He'd survived a gun battle with a police armed response unit. He'd even killed an alligator with his bare hands after a deal with a South American cartel went wrong and the cartel boss decided to throw him into a river.
None of that compared to the sheer effort of trying to tell the Australian on the other end of the line that, no, he didn't want the luxury yacht with the bikini-clad catering staff, the Michelin-starred chef and his gourmet menu, and 'the best skipper this side of Sydney.' Try as he might, Fat Vasya couldn't get it into the other man's head that he just wanted a boat. A plain, simple boat that wouldn't draw attention to itself. A boat that could carry the thirty men that Oleg Kleitsin was sending out to Australia. It didn't have to be fancy, it just had to do everything that he needed it to.
In the end, Fat Vasya hung up the phone, having booked the luxury yacht, albeit without the staff. He had a horrible feeling that the Australian would try to hit him with some other little extra that he could charge extra for. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
An hour later, Air Mihai Flight 1321 to Sydney took off, over two dozen of the Orelskaya Brotherhood's nastiest thugs squeezed into its uncomfortable seats.
To: NOSA Council Leadership - Honourable Charles Darby, Port Ember - General Rayna Shaw, Iarann Grudaidh - Chairman Silon Delah, Uvoan - Chairman Aiphystus Kunmynus, Ignis States From: Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington Date: 3/30/2020 Topic: Missing Kafairi Ship - Joint Search and Capture MissionTo my fellow NOSA council members,
I am writing you all today with regards to the disappearance of the Kafairi ship, Masada. I am requesting that either your respective administrations or private ventures within your nations join with us in a joint NOSA sponsored mission to search, find, and claim this ship for the glory of the Northern Ocean. As I write, assets of the Charlemagne Naval Militia are heading south from our national waters to join in the hunt for the Masada. In addition to maritime assets of the C.N.M., the Fort Short Littoral Magnetic Equipment Network (LIMEN) will attempt to provide extreme long range surveillance to assist in the finding of the Masada. I look forward to your responses.
To: NOSA Council Leadership - Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington, The Chuck - General Rayna Shaw, Iarann Grudaidh - Chairman Silon Delah, Uvoan - Chairman Aiphystus Kunmynus, Ignis States From: Honourable Charles Darby Date: 3/30/2020 Topic: RE: Missing Kafairi Ship - Joint Search and Capture MissionTo my fellow NOSA council members,
I am writing to you all today regarding the subject title, as a formal reply to the irregular request formulated by Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington, and as an extention, the decision from the Government of the Republic of Port Ember.
As time is not on our side relating to this matter, my response will reflect such in being short and concise, unmuddled with political, diplomatical, legal and precedural context.
Thus - The Port Ember Security Forces Navy will comply with the above mentioned request, and send one operational naval vessel towards the operational area to partake within the Joint Search & Capture Operation - Port Emberian designation - Operation Ra. The Port Ember Security Forces Navy will also utilise its network of spy satelites to continiously conduct sweeps over suspected areas to aid in the mission.
To your Health & Wealth!!!
Honourable Charles Darby NOSA Secretary General
Chairman Silon Delah let out a small smile, as he leaned back in his desk chair. Turning quickly to his terminal to write out two messages- One to Adama, and one in response to the letter....
To: NOSA Council Leadership - Honourable Charles Darby, Port Ember - General Rayna Shaw, Iarann Grudaidh - Chair Lady Roseanne Farrington, The Chuck - Chairman Aiphystus Kunmynus, Ignis States From: Chairman Silon Delah Date: 3/30/2020 Topic: RE:RE:Missing Kafairi Ship - Joint Search and Capture MissionTo my fellow NOSA council members,
I am pleased to recieve both of these notifications in good faith- Indeed, this is a rather large weight off the back of my own nation, as some of our own assets were deployed indepdently already, in order to undertake a search for said missing vessel. These assets are primarily composed of faster assault aircraft, and will be glad of the naval help for the actual boarding and combat within the ship itself. They are currently operating under the callsign 'Fitzgerald', within the Southern Pacific.
But I do not suppose I do need to caution everyone involved- There will be other nations involved. And not just the Kafarians. Such a prize as is being offered here is sure to attract scavengers and vultures, looking to steal such a prize from us. I must advocate a cautious, but firm, hand in all our forward dealings with such nations- Especially as we cannot let this chance slip through our grasp like loose sand falling through an opened hand.
In Glory to the Northern Ocean, and it's Allies, -Silon Delah, Uvoanian Chairman
SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTHERN PACIFIC - UGN FAST PATROL GROUP 4-B CALL SIGN 'FITZGERALD' - FLIGHT 2
The two FS1-1Xs banked left as they shot over kilometer after kilometer of open ocean. The two pilots keeping an eye out, as the jets soon began to descend for another pass over suspected water.
"How does a super just up and vanish like that?" One of them asked, as they banked the fighter back onto a straight course. "It's just under 560,000 DWT! There has to be some impressive ECM they smuggled onto that boat."
"Likely..." The second pilot mused, as the two jets continued burning their way across the open sky- Just one of the groups actively doing so, as they continued to comb the Southern Pacific for any sign of the Masada....
Posted: Tue Mar 31, 2020 11:52 pm
by The Chuck
CHARLEMAGNE OFFICE OF COMMERCE & SHIPPING - CHARLES ROCK, CHARLEMAGNE (THE CHUCK) COMMISSIONER NATHANIEL HALSEY
As Nathaniel sat at his desk, he was busy looking over shipping dossiers for Charles Rock, Ravenbrook, and other coastal cities of the Armed Republic. As he sat there, an aide came into his office with another dossier.
"Commissioner Halsey, reports indicate that the Yeglans are intervening in this hunt for the Masada."
Groaning, Halsey picked up the dossier and opened it. The Yeglans were notorious for their red tape and love of all things bureaucratic. As he flipped through it, a smile started to form on his lips.
"Get me Judge Constantine..."
Letter of Marque and Reprisal
The government of The Chuck here by issues this Letter of Marque and Reprisal to Osip Yolkin, commander of the YCV Mirny.
Greetings: whereas we are informed that many maritime traders and merchants have encountered pirates of a stateless origin who have committed many piracies, robberies, and depredations against The Armed Republic of The Chuck, her allies, and other seafarers on lawful excursions venturing through International and Regional waters. Now know ye, that we being desirous to prevent the aforementioned mischiefs committed by these scoundrels of the sea have seen fit to give and grant to the said Osip Yolkin. The holder of this letter is sanctioned to conduct privateering activities in International and Chuckian waters on behalf of the government and admiralty courts of The Armed Republic.
In Witness whereof we have caused our great seal of The Chuck to be affixed to these presents. Given at our court in Charle’s Rock, the 1st day of the 4th month in the year of our Lord, 2020.
Once the letter of Marque and Reprisal was drafted a signed, it, along with a message was forwarded to the Yeglan bureaucracy seeking their aid in hunting down the Masada.
350 MILES OFF THE SOUTHERN COAST OF CHARLEMAGNE (THE CHUCK) - MID PACIFIC OCEAN - CNM Task Unit Charlie Romeo 21 CALL SIGN 'NORTHUMBRIA'
The three FaLPaCs of Task Unit Charlie Romeo 21 sped south at a speed of 47 knots propelled by four Grand Basin Heavy Industries (GBHI) diesel engines a piece. As they started to leave the area covered by the Fort Short Littoral Magnetic Equipment Network, they powered up their radars and started to sweep the ocean for the Masada. Moving in a V formation, the empty lack of blips on the radar started to drone on as the vessels plowed through the ocean waves.
Yolkin stroked his beard thoughtfully - his gaze fixed on the screen before him, and on the friendly smile displayed by the Commissar.
"So, to recap... you wish for us to locate and secure this tanker, allowing for recovery by external teams. And henceforth, to intercept foreign efforts at doing the same."
"Yes."
"And... we are doing this with just these three vessels, without affiliating ourselves with any external actors."
"Correct."
"In that ca-"
He stopped as a faint chime rang out through the bridge - something had popped up in the corner of the console. Varushkin, too, seemed to have noted something offscreen - both men studied their respective displays for a moment. Yolkin was the first to break the silence.
"I appear to have received a..."
"...letter of Marque and Reprisal, yes. How very old-fashioned. You'd think we're back in the era of the man o' war... though in this case it seems to be a proposition of outreach. I'll have to send this further up the chain. There appears to be frequency data enclosed - while I would suggest against contacting the Chuckian contingent as of yet, you should probably bear those in mind as a potential line of inquiry."
"Noted. For now, we search, yes?"
"Indeed. Begin sweeps - I suggest doing so directly with your two frigates. The Mirny isn't exactly well-suited to direct involvement."
"Ah yes, I had been meaning to inquire with regards to that, actually."
"The payloads?"
"Indeed. I was never informed of what exactly it was I was carrying. I'm certain it's not the typical Aster compliment."
"You are correct. There has been a considerable deal of modification. You should be granted the control codes in short order. Actually, let me forward them manually - no sense in relying on a potentially-faulty system."
Yolkin turned his attention to a side-monitor, and to the series of control inputs it had just started receiving. As new options began to spring up, he gave a quiet whistle.
"So I'm guessing this thing was purpose-equipped for something like this."
"Yep. You get to test-drive a new refit pattern. Don't think they've come up with a name for it yet, but if all goes well it should be pushed through into semi-routine deployment."
"That's... certainly something. In any case, I think my instructions have been clarified sufficiently. Was there anything else?"
"Yes. Keep in touch. I will provide realtime coordination - be especially attentive with regards to our... potential allies. I'll notify you of any potential contact opportunities."
"Understood."
"In that case, rear-admiral, I'll leave you to it."
Varushkin's face faded from the display - still, Yolkin waited for the disconnection audio-cue before speaking. One couldn't be too careful with the Commissars.
"Alright, you heard the man. Search routes should have already been transmitted - operate off those, but don't be hesitant to use your own initiative. The further out of the box we operate for this, the better. Any leads are to be relayed to me first and foremost. That would be all - dismissed."
Two salutes, and an echoed "Yessir", before the final two video feeds cut to black. As the two corvettes got underway, Yolkin smiled to himself. The hunt was on. And in a far more dynamic manner than he'd first imagined - what exactly the Chuckians would bring to the table, he could only guess... but it would certainly spice things up a little. And while his subordinates were combing the area directly, the rear-admiral decided to do a little digging. His clearance had just been elevated, after all - no sense in squandering such an opportunity. He turned to the nearest comms officer.
"Get me a stable ASCHLN uplink, and see if you can extend coverage to any Glaz units we've got in the area. I want to see what we're potentially up against, where it is, and if possible, whose it is. The tanker may be elusive... but I've got a feeling that quite a few of its seekers will be less problematic to locate."
Giving no external indication of any sort of change, the Mirniy glided on through the depths. And yet, on the informational side of things, quite a bit was now afoot... it remained to be seen what exactly would be found.
Posted: Fri Apr 03, 2020 11:45 pm
by Port Ember
Joint Operations Center (JOC) Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance (NOSA) Headquarters Building Complex Colony of Port Arthur
The Joint Operations Center of the Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance was a imposing room, simply put. The Center was located within the Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance (NOSA) Headquarters Building Complex within the Port Emberian colony of Port Arthur. The building itself was situated on the fourth level of the basement - thus four floors below ground level.
The room encompassed the entire width and breadth of the building and was only accessable via a seperate and secure elevator, which itself was under permanent manned guard, with top of the line biometric security systems guarding its use. Once on the floor in question, a security lobby acts as yet another layer of unuathorised access, again protected by a layer of manned and technological security systems. Once the state-of-the-art heavy steel doors have granted you access to the JOC, one might easily be forgiven for being suprised at the luxurious nature of a room situated foor floor below ground level.
The center's floor itself is covered completely with marble slabs. The room itself consists out of many small desks artifices from Port Emberian blackwood. Luxurious and plushy leather office chairs accompany these desks offcourse. The walls are completely covered in a mixture of electronic display boards and standard mundane whiteboards. These electronic display boards are currently displaying the entire operational and search area for the current active operation, filled with the appropriate map symbols.
A few seperate encloses rooms exists in the corners of the center, including a equally luxurious bathroom, lounge and signals room. The signals room in particular is of interest as it is effectively the heart of the center - receiving and sending all manners of orders and data to and fro between the JOC and the operational forces. These communication systems are obviously state of the art and encrypted to godly levels, using all the best available (and not so available) technology to keep communications secret and secure.
The JOC is currently manned by represenatatives and operations room specialists from all the nations currently involved on Operation Ra, making sure that cooperation takes place effectively. Although all vessells currently apart of the Operation is under their own operational command - the JOC's main function is simple yet critical - information consolidation amd sharing. The JOC collects and disseminates all the area's searched, collected from the ships, aircraft, drones, spy satelites, electronic intelligence and human intelligence - and forwards it to the searching parties after consolidation. This ensures that no asset wastes its time or resources to search an area allready covered - massively increasing the speed and effectiveness of the search effort. It is only a matter of time that their prize would be discovered....
Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2020 4:12 am
by South Reinkalistan
Congress Chambers, Turaniskidak Politburo Building 8:00 AM
"And so, it is the decision of the Cabinet and therefore the will of the People's Congress that South Reinkalistan will, henceforth, pursue alignment efforts with the Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance. You are expected - as is your duty as Congressmen - to comply with this unorthodox strategy unanimously, or face charges for blasphemy, treason, and dissent. Thank you for your time." Turaniski awaited the reaction.
The chamber was, expectedly, deathly quiet. The silence lay over the People's Congress like a blanket, smothering any discussion that may have happened; black-clad men from the Commission for Political Loyalty watched, clutching their assault rifles and eyeing the discomforted men and women. Whilst the representatives would definitely go along with the decision of Turaniski's cabinet, this was an unprecedented move. Siding with an openly mercantile organisation was a foreign policy move that South Reinkalistan - whilst under its current administration - had never undertaken. It would earn the Premier some resentment for sure. But this was unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Turaniski knew that it always helped to join the winning side if possible; and NOSA was looking most definitely like the winning side in this conflict.
He made this move with a heavy heart, of course. Its very nature was counterrevolutionary, but frankly he needed everything he could to gain an advantage over Kafair. NOSA was the perfect leverage. He began exiting the chamber at a slow pace, resisting the urge to laugh out loud at the extraordinary situation he found himself in. This was a new step for his administration, and the People's Congress would accept it, whether they liked it or not. He could just imagine the Sultan's reaction at this news. That alone made this whole ordeal worth it.
"Forwards, Reinkalistania," he chuckled to himself, "but ex mari percunia venit."
Commissariat of the Exterior Official Communications
To Chairwoman Roseanne Farrington of "the Chuck",
In the world of international diplomacy and dealings, it is quintessential to any statesman that pragmatic and strategic behaviour triumphs over anything as pitifully dogmatic as ideological boundaries; the People's Federation has much to gain from alignment with NOSA, and I believe that NOSA has much to gain from alignment with the People's Federation. This much is very clear, especially considering matters as lucrative as the Masada, which I am sure you're aware of.
South Reinkalistan would be much obliged if the Northern Ocean Strategic Alliance would be open to collaboration in tracking down the ship and preventing it from falling into the hands of the Kafairi menace. As such, we would be open to hold talks regarding the entry of the People's Federation into the organisation.
Yours Sincerely, Commissar Lakersk Turnov
Posted: Sat Apr 04, 2020 5:17 am
by Susan Wainwright Land
We at Susan Wainwright City Hall sent some Guzekin-bots in search for the ship.
Hope it will be soon back at home in the UAE.
Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2020 9:05 am
by New Imperial Britannia
Imperial Palace.
The King sat at his desk, reading over reports that the Imperial Cabinet would write every two weeks.
Most of it was dull, at least to the King. He had no interest in running the nation, and the fact that he was even reading these reports was a miracle to the Cabinet.
Today, though, something caught his eye.
"A Kafairian ship lost at sea, carrying unknown goods..."
"Well now. This is exactly what the nation's resources should be spent on. Tell the ministers. I want this thing in my collection, or they can resign and I'll find someone else to do it."
The messenger bowed and left.
The Imperial Cabinet.
The ministers looked at the memo in front of them. One of the ministers sighed.
"Not this again. Why can't someone competent run this country? What did I ever do to have to serve this kind of King?"
But even as he complained, he knew that the King's requests must be fulfilled at once, otherwise as the memo informed them, they would be fired and someone else would take over their jobs.
So the Cabinet sent out an order to the Naval department.
Priority: 5 (Just below the defense of the nation) Encryption: Maximum(512 bit RSA Encryption, Salted Hash functions)
The King requests that a team be sent out to search for the lost Kafarian ship.
A detachment of the 21st fleet shall be created, consisting of two 20-crew military search-and-rescue ships, and one 25-crew seafaring patrol ship, to locate the ship.
Posted: Sun Mar 22, 2020 11:07 pm
