Political Dissident & LGBT Activist Assassinated(Semi-Open)

by **TURTLESHROOM II** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 12:26 pm

{ OOC: I look forward to this. I hope to write the opening entry by the time the weekend is out, but I can definitely promise a post in seven days. I have a LOT of college work. }

GREAT BOUNTIFUL EMPIRE OF THE UNITED TURTLES, MUSHROOMS, AND MEN OF TURTLESHROOM
EXECUTIVE CABINET OF PEERS
IMPERIAL MINISTRY OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS
HEADMISTRESS

TO THE RECONSTITUTED GERMAN EMPIRE AND HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, THE ESTEEMED KAISER AND HIS COURT:

The receipt of this letter was met by shock from the TurtleShroomian government. The Crown had planned to send me to speak in your esteemed Kaiser's court, and was instead offered a visit from His Imperial Majesty! How could we resist such an offer?

Truly, we are humbled to host His Imperial Majesty at the court of the Tsars.
To grace the Pauper's Palace with your august presence amplifies the honor and prestige of the TurtleShroomian Crown and is a fantastic PR move for our two realms. Your sincerity and deep interest in TurtleShroom and the affairs between our two nations are thrilling to my Ministry and we eagerly await your arrival.

TurtleShroom maintains one international airport at our capital at this time, with six more under construction. That airport has dirt landing strips. Consequently, if His Imperial Majesty wishes to land in TurtleShroom with more comfort than that, we advise that he take a five-seat charter plane; we have many, many thousands of military and private airstrips for his usage.

We have included the coordinates to Queen Haiz II Memorial Airport, our international hub. We have also included all of the airstrips and military bases within five hundred miles of Jonesboro, our capital city. We hope that His Imperial Majesty can coordinate with us in order to ensure security and escorts for his safe passage through TurtleShroom.

In accordance with tradition and TS law, we humbly ask that any officials that are not the Kaiser and his family submit their body measurements. Whereas your Emperor and family may wear their ceremonial regalia, TurtleShroomian law has foreign diplomats and foreign actors, absent the VIP, to wear powder blue robes.

For diplomats, this is the symbol of their immunity. For foreign actors, this is a symbol of their sincerity and allows TurtleShroomian security services to spot and assist them in protecting the VIP.

We ask that His Imperial Majesty wear his full ceremonial regalia when meeting in the Tsars' court. All TurtleShroomers in official peacetime capacity wear their full ceremonial dress on their daily work- you will see our Spiritual Advisor, a Catholic cardinal (we are Protestant), in his choir dress -and in kind, we would appreciate your esteemed Kaiser to reciprocate this gesture.

We issue one warning. You will witness a spectacle that does not exist in your revived White Germany.

Holding court and accepting your presence, you will see three Sovereign Emperors. One Tsar is a turtle, one Tsar is a mushroom, and one Tsar is a human. This is not a typo.

The turtle will talk to you. The fungus will speak.

In TurtleShroom, these non-humans are equal under TurtleShroomian law, and while the God-given Dominion of Man is recognized as He commands, and the Tsars will submit accordingly, understand that the manners and interactions between the non-human Sovereign Emperors should not vary based on species. We expect any foreign visitor to honor and afford to the Tsardom the dignity and majesty of the office he holds, by consent of the governed.

TurtleShroomian turtles come in all varieties and colors; they are approximately between three and six feet long, with a neck height reaching, depending on the size of their carapace, between three and five feet long. Tortoises with domed shells can have a shell height of up to five feet, but your average turtle is two feet in height.

TurtleShroomian mushrooms look exactly what you think a mushroom's fruiting body should look like, though they have eyes and a mouth. TurtleShroomian mushrooms are usually four to five, normally five, feet in height. They achieve locomotion through floating three inches off the ground and, in lieu of hands, use weak telekinesis to pick up objects and anchor themselves when force is applied. They have eyes and a mouth, but no tongue or other organs. They eat by decomposition in the same way as a normal fungus.

In bringing your men- these will be the ones in robes -know that gun laws in TurtleShroom focus almost solely on criminal background checks and requiring sound mind. You are free to bring automated weapons, but you will be protected by the Empire's Chancellery Guard- these guard the Tsars themselves -and escorted by the Ministry of Domestic Affairs' Bureau of Nomadic Data.

Unless you land in Queen Haiz II Memorial Airport, you will have to take a bus or a train to the capital. No airstrip has a direct connection to our only highways. TurtleShroom has very, very few paved roads outside of its cities, and buses are equipped to handle dirt or gravel roads without bouncing and discomfort. It will feel like a new car on a newly paved highway.
Our trains are extremely comfortable, being designed for daily use by over a billion creatures.

In either circumstance, you will be afforded government vehicles, bulletproof and secured for your safety and luxury. These obviously have fancier seats and comfort than the average TurtleShroomian vehicle.

We will welcome you with the best TurtleShroom has to offer, treating your esteemed Kaiser, his family, and his court with the Dixie hospitality and Slavic strength that we have come to be recognized for.

God bless you and enjoy your travels. God be with you. Bless your Empire and mine.

-HER GOSPODZHA, BOYARINA SUE PREOBRAZHENSKY, HEADMISTRESS OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS OF THE GREAT BOUNTIFUL EMPIRE OF THE UNITED TURTLES, MUSHROOMS, AND MEN OF TURTLESHROOM

P.S.: TurtleShroom has prohibition of alcohol. Absolutely no alcohol. No exceptions. We know that a German gentleman loves a huge stein of beer for dinner, but nothing of the sort exists here.

P.S.S.: As we await the meeting between our Emperors, please be free to consider sending a representative to reside in our Legation Quarter, to further these diplomatic ties and increase friendship between the Great Bountiful Empire and the German Reich.

by **Qassadia** » Thu Jan 21, 2021 1:46 pm

Office Of Her Imperial Mejesty

Recipient: His Majesty Kaiser Wilhelm III von Hohenzollern
Sender: Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena Von Peacecraft of Cassadia
Subject: Particular recent event
Encryption: MOST SECRET

Your Majesty,

The words you have expressed have been more than frank on the matter rightfully hit squarely at the substance of this unfortunate fact about the age in which humanity has had to endure the great perversions and iniquities that the Jewish-led globalist nominal international order has had its self-consuming and corrosively decedent worldview imposed on countless nations that were previously, nominally Christian in the moral make-up and structure of their societies and laws; Succumbing to the degenerative system of neoliberalism that eats away at a nation's very soul like a parasite in the same way that the people who intellectualized this system.

Though, I think it would be better for both of us to cease from this point about reminiscing about the nostalgic bountiful connections that our nations struck before the Second Great War undid it all, or in reminding ourselves of the unrepentant wickedness of our enemies.

It is my decision, as Empress and protectress of the Cassadian realm and affirmed by the wise counsel of all my ministers of the Royal Cabinet - that the time for restoring the ties that have bonded our two Great Civilizations should once again be rekindled in the many spheres of cooperation that our people used to reap the dividends prosperity and development that it once was.

As such, on further notice, my Crown-Government would be open to dispatch a delegation headed by my illustrious Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs and a grandson of the venerable, late Joachim von Ribbentrop after whom he is named in honor of your venerable Reichs Minister of Foreign Affairs to whom he is directly related through his oldest son, Rudolf von Ribbentrop.

Therefore, let us from this moment join link our nation together as one united force in defiance of this ever-encroaching world of darkness.

I Have The Honor To Be,
H.I.M Empress Relena (I) Von Peacekraft

by **New Visayan Islands** » Fri Jan 22, 2021 5:04 am

Martin Cajes
Moe's Coffee, The Alexandrian, Cebu City, DH
January 18th, AD 2021
1042 PHT

With social distancing measures in place, a table nominally for 12 typically supported half that; though there were no active cases of COVID-19 since the previous year, carelessness was something Visayans loathe with a passion. That what health experts call the Visayan Bubble still held was a testament to this; with vaccines still on the way and a mass vaccination campaign expected to start some time in February, no one was taking any chances.
This was why Martin and five other Assemblymen were seated at a table at a Moe's Coffee branch in The Alexandrian with a teleconferencing rig set up; they were from various parts of the country assembling in an informal hurrah and a meeting with some of their confreres. All six of them had coffee and two of them were snacking on some sandwiches; the rig was at the center, linked to earpieces each of them wore. By mutual agreement there would be no talking shop, at least not until later in the day, where more secure communications could be arranged; this was an informal affair, after all, and the Assemblymen were letting their hair down.
"Y'know, in all the four years I've seen you in the Assembly, you always seem to be on edge; you seriously need to get laid," one of the Assemblymen said to another.
"Lance, Lance, Lance...since when was what I do in bed any of your business?" the Assemblyman said.
"It's obvious that whatever you're doing to cope isn't working, and given that you just won another four years, it'd be poor form for a senior to let his junior colleague falter," Lance replied.
"Bold words from someone who's stepping down next week."
"From someone who served three full terms. I'm not gonna lie, Tony: not many people like to see their elected representatives crash and burn in the middle of a legislative session. Only people I know that would are the ones who hate the rep's guts, and you'd have to fuck up colossally before that happens."
Leave it to Lance to play professor to the younger Assemblymen, Martin thought as he agreed, knowing that he was in the same boat as Tony.
"To Tony's credit, he's young, single, and ready to mingle," added one of the Assemblywomen. "Were I not engaged, I'd probably be interested in him, Assemblyman or no Assemblyman."
"Speaking of which, how's your fiance, Leah?" Martin asked. He knew the Assemblywoman in question was engaged to an Army officer.
"We're getting married on February 2nd, as you well know--you're invited, remember? Ever since I won another four years he's been pretty happy," Leah replied. The six Assemblymen continued chatting until it was time to engage in the planned conference call. The call lasted for an hour and was followed by a text message containing an invitation to a private party.

Martin Cajes
The Saints' Quarters, Cebu City, DH
1412 PHT

Pulling up the link in the text message Martin received earlier gave him all the details he needed for later in the night: Salem Docallos was hosting. He knew Salem was one of the co-founders of the Foundation for Preserving Civil Liberties, a Visayan NGO whose charter was dedicated to ensuring that the civil rights and liberties of all Visayans from every walk of life were protected from curtailment, to the point that the FPCL was publicly known for being the only organization willing to play devil's advocate by providing legal representation even to most of the people Visayan society didn't take kindly to; several Visayan prisons housed committed communists and fanatical fascists alike that owed their lives to the FPCL, who in many occasions either successfully downgraded the charges they faced, or encouraged them to take plea bargains that allowed Visayan law enforcement to fry the bigger fish.
Martin wasn't a lawyer, but he knew a few lawyers in the House of Assemblymen that would agree on there being bigger fish to fry in any situation.

Fatima Irene Marquez
Peregrine Suites, Cebu City, DH
1716 PHT

Having read the Docallos invite with an affirmative response, Fatima Irene drove her car to the destination; while she rated a driver, who at the moment was riding shotgun, taking the wheel herself was one of the simple things she enjoyed doing when going to an event. The location Salem picked for the private party was the top floor of a condominium within the Halos and Horns Complex in Mandaue. She knew the place in passing, having considered H&H Residences before settling for the far closer--close enough that the Assembly Hall was walking distance, not that her bodyguard would approve--Peregrine Suites.
As her phone rang, she went handsfree, letting Leah know that she was driving. Leah Seguerra (at least, until February 2nd, where she would become known as Leah Seguerra-Laurente) was from her party, the Assemblywoman occupying the Eighth Seat representing the District of Humabon, and a fellow Assemblywoman expected to see her second term by the following week, where she would occupy the Sixth Seat; Irene herself occupied the Sixth Seat representing Bohol and would be moved to the Fifth Seat come the 25th.
"You know Leah, I'm looking forward to seeing your Major's face when he realizes that some of the Assemblymen you invited hold reserve commissions," she said. Irene herself was one such Assemblywoman, holding a captain's rank in the Army as a Judge Advocate for one of the Infantry Brigades that was part of the 2nd Bohol Infantry Division.
"I know what you mean, Irene, or would you prefer Captain Marquez?" Leah replied with a chuckle.
"Just because you're marrying a guy who's one rank higher than me..." There was no malice in either Assemblywoman's banter.

Most Rev. Ulysses S.J. Rabuya, OFM, DD, JCD
H&H Residences, Mandaue City, DH
January 18th, AD 2021
1801 PHT

"...ut qui, Angelo nuntiante, Christi Filii tui incarnationem cognovimus, per passionem eius et Crucem ad resurrectionis gloriam perducamur. Per eundem Christum Dominum nostrum."
"Amen."
"Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto."
"Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum. Amen."
After the Catholic participants crossed themselves, Ulysses spoke with the host. The Bishop of Talisay served as the Vice Chairman of the Committee on Justice, Peace, and Human Development, one of the committees maintained by the Visayan Confederation Conference of Catholic Bishops; as the Chairman, Oscar Alcaraz, was unavailable at the moment, having officiated a Requiem Mass for a former Governor of Panay earlier that afternoon, he stepped in vice the Coadjutor Archbishop of Capiz. After all, that particular committee was one of the three committees in the Conference that often collaborated with civil rights organizations like the FPCL, the other two being the Committee on Religious Liberty, represented in the party by its Vice Chairman, Auxiliary Bishop Leonardo Inocencio Ng of Toledo, and the Committee on Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs, represented in the party by its Chairman, Auxiliary Bishop Vicente Ibarazaki II of Cebu. Along with the three bishops were various other representatives of NGOs, civil society organizations, and advocacy groups: those from the Visayan section of B'nai B'rith, the Spirit of Zakat Foundation, the Alexandros Foundation, Caritas Cebu, YMCA-NVI, and the Federation of Visayan Broadcasters Ulysses recognized outright, moreso the few members of Caritas Cebu present, as he was a member of that organization's board along with his brother suffragans and the Coadjutor Archbishop of Cebu.
"Well, bishop, I suppose things could get better?" Salem asked.
"I suppose so," Ulysses replied. While the party wasn't as cramped as some people feared--there was plenty of space to go around--everyone still wore masks when they weren't eating or drinking, with some of the participants wearing face shields as well. People kept their distance and there were kiosks with hand sanitizer at every entry point as well as the smoking room, which saw the occasional smoker or two inside it; the bishop was certain he saw Senator Corona smoking a Corona cigar earlier.
"We're still waiting for a few more people and we can begin; I'm expecting some Assemblymen and--shuō Cáo Cāo, Cáo Cāo dào."
"Speak of Cao Cao and he is at the gates," Vicente added; he recognized Assemblywoman Seguerra and two other Assemblymen arrive.
"You speak Mandarin, Bishop Ibarazaki?" Salem asked in surprise.
"Took it up as an elective in the seminary," the Kirishitan replied. "Didn't you say you have a party to start?"

Dorian Corona
H&H Residences, Mandaue City, DH
1832 PHT

"Ah, good you could make it," Dorian said to Leah after the three Assemblymen found their seats.
"Wouldn't miss it if I could help it, Senator," Leah replied. "How's the family?"
"Wonderful."
As the party officially began with Salem's opening remarks, the Senator returned to his seat.
"...seeing so many people representing the various groups that have an interest in the preservation of civil rights across every sector warms my heart. Charitable foundations, religious groups, even government officials all gathered here under the banner of civil rights, all of you are in position to heed the cries of emancipation. I know there will be those who are content to leave those cries unheard, cries coming from a nation so far away, especially when our own house can always be made better. But then again, who among you can, in good conscience, abide the slaver? Who among you can, in good conscience, abide one who rabidly persecutes minorities, itching for every possible excuse to enact pogroms?"
At that, Martin's voice could be heard, raised as it was as he made his sentiment known. "I see no parley with such people!" he said, to the applause of most of the participants. "The annals of history are replete with examples of what happens when you parley with the slaver, the genocidaire, and the totalitarian: it falls upon us who embrace the free society that the Confederation is to learn from those lessons."
"Excellent point, Assemblyman Cajes!" Salem said. "For those of you who are unfamiliar with him, this is the Assemblyman who wrote the email that moved the Federal Assembly to supporting a multipronged approach to the issue this particular group of totalitarian genocidal slavers has presented our friends in Palmyrion. And what are we if not people who look out for our friends?"
"People who hold the line against whatever dangers may befall us should our friends fall," Dorian said. "And people who will not let our goals be clouded by lust for vengeance," he then added.
"For when we look out for our friends, we look out for ourselves," Salem continued. "By eight o'clock there will be a workshop dedicated to the perils of radicalism and the bigotry it spawns run by my colleagues in the FPCL along with B'nai B'rith Visayas' Anti-Defamation Office. Additional events can be found in both your invites and the virtual kiosks on this floor."

by **TURTLESHROOM II** » Wed Jan 27, 2021 2:21 pm

The Kaiser's charter plane touched down at the small, private airstrip about a hundred miles south of Jonesboro. All around, the peaceful wind rustling through the rainforest canopy and the cheerful chirping of multicolored parrots and tropical songbirds.

The Wet Season was in full swing, as the normal on and off rains, and even monsoons, were normally dumping water in the region every few hours, but could last for weeks. Remarkably, the sky was clear in this part of TurtleShroom, and it was a perfect day to host a dignitary. Despite being the dead of winter on the Gregorian calendar, it was, as always, around eighty degrees in the dense, humid TurtleShroomian tropics.

When the Kaiser, his servants, and his innermost court stepped off the plane, they were greeted by trumpets playing a single instance of a Ruffled Flourish.

Starting from the boarding stairs of the German aircraft, a red carpet had literally been rolled out, extending from the brass-colored charter bus on the dirt road outside the airstrip to the bottom stair. On each side of this carpet, closest to the boarding staircase, were eight humans.

These were a sampling of the men, humans this time, of the Chancellery Gaurd the elite corps assigned to protect the TurtleShroomian Crown and the Legation Quarter, as well as certain dignitaries.

When the Kaiser stepped onto the carpet, the Chancellery Guardsmen put their portable Gatling gun into their left hands and lowered it to their side, parallel to their bodies. Reaching to the "toolbelt" affixed to their robes, they pulled out a large, brass-coated frying pan and, raising their right arm in the air while holding the pan over the carpet. The German Emperor was supposed to walk under it.

The Kaiser immediately recognized this as a TurtleShroomian Saber Arch.

Passing under the high, ceremonial honor, the Guardsmen, in a rigid, quick motion, lowered the frying pans to their right hip, before twirling them upwards with a flick of the wrist, and placing them back into the belt tied to their robes. They then returned the Gatling gun to the normal ceremonial position, held at their chest. Taking a single step, they turned a right angle simultaneously, their backs to the charter aircraft.

A human herald with a heavy accent spoke into a megaphone. In one of his hands, we was holding several index cards taped together. (The following is phonetic.)

The herald sat down and wiped his brow, taking a few deep breaths.

The Kaiser and his entourage were then greeted by several different TurtleShroomers, some non-human and some human, who were holding various items. The first to step forward were two turtles. Several powder blue robes, neatly folded and pressed, rested on top of their shells. The Kaiser's guardsmen and other diplomatic officials and guards, but neithe the Kaiser nor his relatives themselves, were directed to wear them over their clothes.

The Kaiser himself, and his close associates or family, were given a powder-blue sash. The Kaiser and company were asked to wear this, from shoulder to hip. Like the powder blue robes for his entourage, this was to identify him, both in a crowd and to other authorities of his diplomatic immunity. Of course, the Kaiser's Wilhelm-Hohenzollern Crown*, which he had been asked to wear with his full ceremonial dress, would also give that away.

By now, the Chancellery Guardsmen had sidestepped onto the carpet and followed behind the Kaiser and his men, two by two.

Near the bus, three mushrooms held, respectively, the flag of TurtleShroom, the royal flag of the TS Crown**, and the black-white-red tricolor of the German Empire. Due to the unexpected surprise of the Kaiser visiting, as well as TurtleShroom's prior unawareness of this German realm's existence, the TurtleShroomian imperial government had been unable to acquire a proper copy of the Neo-Reactionary German Reichs' darker tricolor with the eagle. They hoped he wouldn't be offended.

The Kaiser and company walked to the bus as a ninth Chancellery Guardsmen, waiting at the bus, knocked gently on the bus door's window. The bus doors opened. The Guardsman extended his hand and helped each guest onto the bus steps.

Inside, a tortoise wearing a little hat and a powder blue cape over his shell turned to face the Kaiser and his entourage. This was the bus driver. In place of the driver's seat and steering wheel, a large, cube-like block of metal, with a raised platform, was what the huge turtle-come-bus driver stood on.

"Good mornin', Your Imperial Majesty. Y'all get cozy right up. The bathroom's in the back and the fridge is stocked with soda, milk, and sweet tea****."

"We also took the liberty of tryin' to find somethin', anything German that ain't alcoholic. We didn't find much, but we did find a few. Hey Bob!"

A small turtle crawled over from the back. A silver tray with several Mason jars, each labelled and with lids colored like the Imperial German tricolor, were balanced perfectly on the tray.

The labels said, respecitvely, "APFELSAFTSCHORLE", "SCHLAMMBOWLE", AND "ALKOHOLFREI FRUCHTEBOWLE".

"What'cha got for the Kye-zuh today?"

The turtle's little eyes lit up.

"We've got Oktoberfest Virgin Fruit Punch with passion fruits, Oktoberfest Gummy Bear Ice Cream Floats, and Oktoberfest Virgin Apple Spritzer."

"There's more in the fridge, esteemed Kye-zuh. As you know, we are a dry state, so we don't use alcohol outside of medicine and as a boiled cooking ingredient. Oktoberfest is, of course, an alcohol celebration, but they also have virgin drinks for children and teetotal visitors... mostly for kids. I know you're not a child, but it's the closest thing we could find that would actually be served at your people's big food festival."

There was an awkward pause before the bus driver broke the silence.

"Bob, what's for lunch?"

"We got somethin' better for lunch, Your Imperial Majesty. TurtleShroomers love it as much as we do. We've got BIG HONKING SAUSAGES. I know you like sausage! Who doesn't? We've got homemade sausage, the organs freshly ground and encased by real, small-time commercial farmers. Yamoto, bring it in!"

An Oriental human brought forward another silver platter with a serving dish cover. Removing the cover were dozens of hot dogs and pigs in a blanket. Bob gestured to him with his neck and then, looking back at the Kaiser, explained what he was seeing.

"We have homemade pigs in a blanket with cheese, but instead of normal cocktail weenies, we got some bratwurst cocktail weenies. The hot dogs? Those buns aren't wheat. They are hand-baked from cattail dough. The meat? It's a bratwurst hot dog!"

"For the side, we have pumpkin-rice casserole, a traditional TurtleShroomian, and Slavic, side dish. Also, our Dixies love them some casserole."

The bus driver chimed in again.

"I know hot dawgs n' pigs***** look like we cheapened out, but I assure y'all, everything here was made right as you landed, from scratch. While it ain't no meal fit for someone as worthy as you, esteemed Kye-zuh, I would at least hope it's fit for a German. The state supper's to come. This here's lunch. We hope you ain't too mad at bein' served a po' man's dish, a peasant dish."

As the company was served their meals on silver trays, they were shown to their seats. Unlike the usual vinyl in the large black buses used for public transport, these were real leather, had pull-out footstools, and could lounge back one hundred eighty degrees.

"Now, let's roll!" the bus driver called out.

"WAIT! WAIT, YOU FORGOT- OOF!"

A light young man's voice, followed by the scuffing of dirt, was heard outside of the bus. Stepping into the bus and wiping dirt off his ropes was a young adult. Dressed in his full choir dress, the Kaiser immediately recognized a Catholic Cardinal... and a Catholic Primate... when he saw one. He placed the tassals of his white gallero hat behind his back.

Adjusting his heavy glasses- these cokebottle spectacles would be seen on every TurtleShroomer White, but not as often on other races -he threw his head to the left, tossing his long, Emo bangs sideways, which he promptly tucked behind his ear. Looking at the Kaiser, he smiled. The Kaiser was told beforehand that a TurtleShroomer clergyman never bows to anyone but God and a senior clergyman, hence the behavior.

Made aware beforehand, the Kaiser, as mentioned, extended his hand and shook hands in a firm, gripped handshake with Cardinal-Primate Icfella.

"Your Imperial Majesty, welcome to TurtleShroom. I am Cardinal-Primate Jason Icfella, Exempt Bishop of the Primital See of TurtleShroom, seated in Oakwood Minor Bascillica, representing all of Catholic Christendom in the Great Bountiful Empire We weren't sure if you were Catholic, like Bavaria and much of western Prussia, or Protestant like Prussia's state religion. They sent me. I hope my presence doesn't offend you. If it does, rest assured that TurtleShroom is a Protestant nation.

The bus pulled onto the dirt road, sending a huge cloud of dust behind it. The German Emperor watched the turtle bus driver as he stepped forward and leaned. The raised square he was standing on was a pressure plate. Like a game of "Dance Dance Revolution", the turtle stepped or leaned forward, back, or sideways to drive the bus. The gearshift, one of the handle kinds high on the dashboard, was adjusted with his mouth and neck.

Despite the poor terrain, the Kaiser noticed that the bus didn't jump like it was on a speedbump, rather, the intense, smooth vibration akin to a car driving down a fast highway was all he felt. It would be a pleasant ride.

"The Slavo-Dixie hospitality of the Great Bountiful Empire of TurtleShroom is yours to command Your Imperial Majesty," the bus driver pointed out, not looking back. "Honuhed Kye-zuh, we hope that you can make yourself at home and enjoy yourself in our humble empire. Welcome."

Icfella smiled another one of his wide-eyed grins, showing his gleaming white, seriously crooked teeth. He spoke up, his very light, faint Southern accent sharply contrasting the thick accents of both the herald at the airstrip and the bus driver.

"We are humbled by your presence. It'll take about a hour or two to travel these narrow roads; kick back and relax. Yes, you can take your crown off now. Put it on that velvetine pillow there. Yes."

* = I am assuming that this is the crown in use for a restored German Empire, and not the never-finished, proposed Staat Krone.

** = This flag has changed since the post I cited, as the Coat of Arms was updated during the establishment of the Great Bountiful Empire.

*** = This is "Gospodin", the Russian translation of "lord", which also is the manner of address given to Boyars. Anyone with the title "Lord" is either referred to as "Gospodin" (or Gospodzha for females), or Master (or Mistress for females). TurtleShroom uniquely refuses to use "Lord" as a title for any creature, as the term has been, in TS culture, reserved solely for God Himself. This was a hang up of TS' original founder, Jones Found.

**** = Black tea boiled in the bags, steeped, and then poured into sugared water and served on the rocks. It is a cold beverage.

***** = Shorthand for pigs in a blanket.

by **McNernia** » Fri Jan 29, 2021 1:07 pm

Official Statement of H.M Government of the Kingdom of Archinia

The recent deployment of nuclear weapons by the Kingdom of Cassidia is of deep concern to HM Government. The issue of slavery and or serfdom is of deep concern to HM Government. Duly bound by the Amistad Declaration which declares slavers a threat to Humanity and worthy of destruction and yet not wishing to upset the balance of nominal peace in the world HM Government hence declares that we will be monitoring the situation closely. Any action against Palmyrion our Regional partner will be met with appropriate measures. HM Government calls upon the Kingdom of Cassidia to free the slaves.

HM Government voices extreme concern over the death of activists. Extra judicial killings are rarely sanctionable and in this case the issue stands that the victim of the bombing in Palmyrion was not an imminent threat to the best of our knowledge hence her death was grossly overkill.

HM Government wishes to speak with Visyan Islands and Palmyrion about the issue as soon as possible.

Messages would be sent via the relevant members of the diplomatic corps in both nation's calling for discussions on a plan of action .

by **Qassadia** » Mon Feb 01, 2021 11:33 am

Military Orders Continuation of Snap Combat Readiness Drills

January 31st
2021

Cassadia's Royal Department of Defense has ordered snap exercises for the stress-testing of combat readiness among all branches of the Royal Armed Forces in Southern, South-Eastern, Western, Northern, and the Special Military Districts of Carthage, Ilopirt, Drainorv, and Etropole throughout the first quarter of February.

These readiness drills included the activation of ''paper'' reservist formation, mobilization as well as the deployment and grouping of troops, “the readiness of the Southern Military District to deploy in short time self-contained groups of forces for containment of crisis situations will be assessed,” the Royal Telegraph Agency reported, citing the DoD press office. The Western and the Central Military Districts will be checked for possibility “to increase efforts to enhance the strategic posture of most units to be able to repel any potential belligerent. in light of recent events from external state actors”

In the coming days, formation troop units from the Land Force and the Airborne Troops would be tasked with performing maneuvers in testing the ability to perform “activities established a degree of readiness” that will be checked, during the next two – the ability to “withdraw the military units to training and educational areas, and prepare them to solve problems according to the exercises.” The progress of the snap exercises of the Royal Armed Forces will be monitored by two working groups of the General Staff.

The press service of the Her Majesty's General Staff refused to disclose how many troops are going to be taking part in the exercises.

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by **Palmyrion** » Wed Feb 03, 2021 6:12 am

Department of State Affairs
3100 Macapagal Square, Aragon, D.C.
19 January 2021 1653H Palmyrian Standard Time

It had been an intense two weeks of investigation, studying everything from the destroyed vehicles’ VIN plates, camera footage of massive swathes of the city, interviewing possible witnesses, locating sources of their chemicals and firearms, tracing various IP’s and downloaded data at the apartment in question, and attempting to find the real identities of the men who carried out the attack. And now True Faith and Park were at the Department of State Affairs to present evidence to higher-ups and representatives from the Departments of State Affairs and of National Defence, and the Central Intelligence Directorate.

The preliminary dossier they compiled was over 400 pages long of evidence about the suspects’ activities, and insight into Cassadian state involvement in the terror attack. Most damning of them all would be an “anomalous addition” in the DSA’s visa database brought about by a hacking attempt that was traced all the way to Cassadian IP addresses--and this was on top of “sensitive messages'' brought back and forth between Cassadian IP addresses and the IP address that the perpetrators used in their stay in Palmyrion, all facilitated by the dark web with the use of tools such as proxy servers, onion routing, and garlic routing.

“You’re wrong, by the way. I’m hardly an honourable man.” True Faith declared to Park, seeing as the two were alone now.

“Rough world.” Park replied. “Sometimes you gotta make deals with devils, even gripping at a knife’s edge--kapit sa patalim we call it.” she added.

“Rougher in some parts than others. No deals with devils, either. I’ll tell you about it sometime, if you want.”
True Faith only had on a collared shirt and vest rather than the full jacket, exposing a small necklace chain that was hard to spot before. He pulled out an unlit cigarette, and in the act of placing it to his lips, it was clear that every finger of his was scarred, evident of breaks on all five of his right hand.

“Much appreciated, Faith. Will deffo love to hear that.” Park replied.

As time went five men walked in to greet Park. One of them had a manila envelope and a letter, and a second greeted Park. The second man, introducing himself as Hornet, made his intentions known.

“Agent Park, I presume? I’m Hornet, with the Visayan Intelligence Agency. These are my teammates: Jarvis, Watchman, Farseer, and Blowtorch.” At this, Jarvis gave the envelope and the letter; the letter was a notice from the Station Chief that the five men were indeed with VIA, and the envelope contained what the Visayans knew of Cassadia. Notes concerning the country’s institutional obsession with what by all rights would be considered Christian Identity--something that the more devoutly Christian men in the team knew was essentially a neo-Nazi heresy--an obsession seemingly cultivated by the Baron Lukov, were added to what the combined group knew of Cassadia.

“You are correct. I’m Special Agent 5 Park, Central Intelligence Directorate.” Park replied, bowing lightly in place of a handshake, before receiving with her hands the envelope and letter given to her by Jarvis.

“The more the merrier, it seems. True Faith, SVRL.” True Faith extended his hand to Hornet, who took the hand to pass a small bottle of ethanol; the rest of the team bowed their heads instead, being all too familiar with measures taken to avert COVID-19, before Jarvis fished out an unlit cigarette of his own. True Faith responded by cleaning his hands, but offering a light to Jarvis.

“We were just about to give a presentation on the investigation so far, if you’d like to listen.”

“Please do,” Hornet replied. “The sooner we all get up to speed the better. Cassadia test-firing that nuke of theirs does not do anyone any good; not helping are our allies of convenience in the Galadon Campaign opening themselves up to a courting by the Cassies.”

“What else did you expect from actual heirs to The Fucking Nazis?” Jarvis added before taking a puff at his lit cigarette. “They only teamed up with us in New Sandau because even they were ultimately disgusted at ol’ Skynet over there.”

“Even evil has standards. Who knew?” Park quipped. “Doing the dirty, clandestine work of realpolitik under the cover of plausible deniability is our line of work.” she added

“One nuke can mean they have more, but they’re complex weapons and would have required a lot of development and manufacturing. Does anyone have potential numbers on their nuclear arsenal besides the one?” Faith then lit up his own cigarette, looking at Jarvis before adding: “That’s politics for you. Consider that countries like ours fought side by side with the so-called heirs of Nazism, not for any common ground other than Galadon. After that’s over, we’re not going to just get along.”

“For a nation embargoed and sanctioned to the hilt, they’ve got quite the nuclear arsenal.” Park said, suspecting Cassadian involvement in the black market. “The only way they can do this is smuggling, espionage, black market. That’s even assuming Cassadia sits on top of pitchblende.” she added.

“It’s safe to presume a good chunk of their economy is tied to the black market. Arms dealers, smugglers, hell, even narcotics. Given their reliance on the black market, it would not surprise me if their OC exists with the blessing of their government,” Jarvis said, voicing Park’s suspicion. “Although it would be outright foolish to think they would do anything as bare-faced as say, smuggling meth in honey shipments during a famine.”

“Black market or no, the course of action that will be taken is dependent on their gear, nukes, force projection capabilities, and defensive military.” Faith added, letting out a puff of cigarette smoke. “But for now, we have a presentation to do.”

“Let’s go. We have superiors waiting to see what we gathered.” Park said, signaling for the rest of the team to tag along with her.

True Faith led the way into the room, cigarette still lit as he came into view of various Palmyrian higher-ups. Jarvis had put out his cigarette beforehand, saving the second stick he would normally light up for after speaking with the Palmyrians; Hornet and Farseer popped one menthol candy each.

The room was a fairly modest, functional presentation room. Attending were the heads of the Intelligence Community, to include the Director of National Intelligence, as well as the Lakambini herself and the Chancellor himself, with those present in the room wearing face masks and face shields. Half of the Intelligence Community heads were attending the meeting via teleconferencing, a measure taken to stem the spread of COVID-19. This assassination had overblown beyond reasonable proportions, with healthy amounts of warmongering rhetoric and muscle-flexing being exchanged between both sides - thus elevating the matter to a national-level concern.

True Faith was the first one out onto the stage, looking smart as usual as he took in who was there. Higher ups, head of state. Fate of the country is in your hands.

“Good afternoon Lakambini and Chancellor, Director and others. I am Agent ‘True Faith’ of the Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki Lauzanska, or Lauzanne Foreign Intelligence Service. Now, I’m sure all of you know why you’re here, and why I’m here, so I’ll get right into it.”

With a click of the small device in his hand, the first image in the presentation came up: The burning hulk of the van.

“At roughly 0745 hours on January the 2nd, 2021, a car bomb went off, killing Adlopovna Gazgireyeva, a Cassadian national and noted defector from the Kingdom, alongside her wife, two children and eight bystanders. By mid-day, the team that had carried out the suspected assassination had left land, already boarding a submarine that took them into international waters. Not much was known about the perpetrators, other than they had expired visas and fake IDs, but signs point to Cassadian nationals.”

“The Cassadian nationals--suspected Cassadian nationals, rather--rented a flat in downtown Aragon, in a low income neighbourhood.” Park said, switching the presentation slide to a CID picture of the blasted flat. “They came here claiming to be company representatives of a certain wine-making company registered in the Kingdom of Yulmata, in the Markion region, something that was proven false when we cross-checked it with the said company.” she said, switching the slide to the logo of the wine-making company. “Information given to us by their ISP has shown that they had “sensitive exchanges'' with computers bearing Cassadian IP addresses, with these exchanges done most likely through anonymity networks such as TOR or I2P.” Park said as she switched the slides again to a network map of how the “sensitive messages'' were passed down between “network nodes.” “Not only that, purchase records from local retailers show that they bought a large amount of chemicals such as acetone, hydrogen peroxide, and acid catalysts--possibly to make a crude version of TATP.” Park finished, showing on-screen the synthesis reaction of triacetone triperoxide, more commonly known as TATP.

“Also of note is their cars, a Citroen and a Hyundai, which were both purchased secondhand privately and registered under the fake IDs. However, interviews of the previous owners points to nothing more than Slavic accents, like yours truly, but ‘different’. The boat as well was registered to them, so this is already looking to be some serious cash for anything short of special forces or intelligence work. Not to mention these...” True Faith turned to the screen to click over to an image of the team at the docks, running for the boat with weapons out. “G3KA4s, such rifles are commonly used in Cassadia from the grunts to the elites. No doubt chosen for familiarity, and it’s far from conclusive, but Cassadian nationals on fake IDs, with accents, Cassadian preferred arms, killing a Cassadian dissident, and escaping to be picked up by the same type of submarine that’s a staple of the Cassadian fleet?” True Faith took a big drag from his cigarette, softly letting it out away from the higher-ups. “Either Cassadia did it, or someone with enough knowledge, money, technical expertise and the capability to make it look like the Cassadians did it.”

“The second one we can easily rule out if we consider a certain millennia-old question: cui bono?” Hornet added. “To whom the benefit? Given that Adlopovna Gazgireyeva was a notable defector who shed a light into the inner workings of the Kingdom of Cassadia, the answer gravitates to the conclusion that Cassadia was responsible; only they stood to gain the most from the death of someone that betrayed them.” At that, Hornet introduced himself to the assembled Palmyrian higher-ups.

“Ah, where are my manners? I bid you a good afternoon as well, Lakambini, Chancellor, Director, and everyone. I’m Agent Hornet, and this is my team: Jarvis, Watchman, Farseer, and Blowtorch. We’re with the Visayan Intelligence Agency,” Hornet said as the Visayans stepped forward. “Jarvis here will introduce you to what we know of some of Cassadia’s key officials.”

“That I will,” Jarvis said before starting. “What I have in this envelope are dossiers of what we know of certain high-profile officials coming from that country. We’ll start with their Empress, Relena von Peacecraft.

“Relena is the incumbent Empress of Cassadia, the daughter of Emperor Charles von Peacecraft, who saw their Kingdom through various conflicts. During a winter ball held on June 20th of last year at the Royal Palace in Kuronami, the Visayan Secretary of Finance--at least until some time after Inauguration Day this coming 25th--had seen their Empress in passing, engaging with Queen-Empress Mara of New Edom. Indeed, until recently, most of what we know of Empress Relena is secondhand information coming from what remains of the files we managed to archive and take with us when the Visayan Embassy to New Edom went under.” Jarvis paused for breath before continuing: “The Cassadian Empress’s security is overwhelmingly tight, and we have reason to believe that the Empress herself may have weapons training courtesy of the next person on our Rogue’s Gallery: Baron Punchev Lukov.” At this Jarvis moved to the next file.

“Baron Lukov first came up on our radar through OSINT; he had been a user of a social media platform also hosted in Kuronami whose introductory post involved training what we can safely conclude were foreign paramilitary units native to Cassadia’s neighbors in the Krillin region. Before Lukov, the other known Cassadian personality was their Empress, the woman in charge of the kingdom. Given how considerably closed Cassadian society is, it was admittedly difficult for us to learn more about it...but Lukov’s openness proved useful.

“We know that Cassadian society prides itself on its identity in a manner akin to the Official Nationality of Tsarist Russia, with Orthodoxy, Autocracy, and Nationality as its three pillars. Cassadia’s zeal in maintaining her identity as an Orthodox state--Orthodoxy is the state religion of the kingdom--means whatever religious minorities that may exist do so at the mercy of the authorities. Her obsession with Autocracy means Empress Relena has a hand in all decisions made; nothing goes on without her imprimatur, so to speak. And as far as Nationality is concerned, it is safe to presume that Nationality to them is near-synonymous to ethnicity,” Jarvis said before pausing to take a sip of water. “This means that any ethnoreligious minorities that may exist will find themselves heavily stigmatized, relegated to a status akin to second-class subjects, and/or worse: subject to persecution up to and including genocide. In fact, this last part is how we Visayans got up to speed on the kind of nation Cassadia is: the organization once headed by the Baron Lukov, the Union of Cassadian National Legions, was party to a pogrom that saw the death of 3117 human beings in one day. Their only crime, if anyone in this room could call it that, was that they were Jews, subject to discriminatory measures such as the Royal Edict of 1541, measures reinforced by an institutional antisemitism that echo those which ultimately resulted in what is perhaps the genocide that defined the 20th Century: The Holocaust.

“This is on top of a repulsive slavocracy whose system in its current form was established with what we can safely presume was the aid of Nazis who escaped Nuremberg, who escaped Mossad, who escaped the hands of Nazi hunters from every nation with an interest in seeing them either locked up for the remainder of their natural lives or hanged from the gallows like the monsters that they are.” To the side, Jarvis could see Watchman taking deep breaths; when he asked his colleague after the meeting, he was reminded of a series of attacks on places of worship that started with the bombing of the Talamban Synagogue. “Given the disproportionate level of influence a man whose noble title puts him among the most junior of Cassadian nobility wields, we have reason to believe that Punchev Lukov is the power behind the throne, the Man behind the Woman, if you will.”

“What’s the civil rights situation down there like?” the Director of the AFP Intelligence Corps asked.

“Nothing good,” Jarvis replied. “To use the same information that got us fully aware of Cassadia’s societal ethos, the Royal Edict of 1541 effectively reduces its approximately 800,000 Jews to conditions seemingly worse than whatever the Nuremberg Laws of Nazi Germany could think of. They are segregated into glorified ghettos, denied access to public transportation and education, restricted to barter for commerce and either subsistence farming or menial labor for work, legally regarded as stateless persons stripped of citizenship or loyalty to any power other than the Crown, required to wear identifiable badges, and particularly vulnerable, especially come Christmas and Easter, to attacks ranging from the lynching of individuals to state-organized pogroms such as the one Baron Lukov and the UCNL were party to. The societal norms of Cassadia make this worse: institutional antisemitism is part of a Cassadian’s upbringing, with their Orthodox churchmen either helpless to stop this at best or actively maintaining this at worst. We’re talking centuries-old tropes like Jewish Deicide, Blood Libel, and other connotations most people commonly associate with neo-Nazis in other countries; from the looks of things it would not surprise me if the Protocols of the Elders of Zion is recommended reading in the Cassadian education system.

“And then you have Cassadia’s Living Property Units. The term itself, from what we know, can either refer to slaves raised from birth to serve their masters unconditionally or livestock; under Cassadian law Living Property Units are not considered human beings. This institution is further reinforced by regular abuse--in more ways than one, at that--of slaves who fail to appease their masters, a dedicated alternative form of ‘education’ where pictographs are used instead of letters, and even what some of the more theologically-minded among us would consider a vile perversion of the Orthodox catechism designed to reinforce the slave’s obedience to their master. The implication of how thoroughly dehumanized Cassadian slaves are is crystal clear: a Cassadian slaveowner can, in theory, do anything he pleases with his slaves, up to and including killing them off should they displease him. And Cassadian subjects own--” here, one could detect a hint of anger in Jervis’ tone, “--six million of these slaves, seemingly seen as a status symbol for those who are well-off. That’s six million human beings reduced to mere property; functionally little more than living, breathing objects to be flaunted by their masters with no hope for freedom. This is in addition to those same 800,000 Jews their.government legally considers its property and subjects to conditions that qualify as genocide under Article II of the 1948 Genocide Convention. The Kingdom of Cassadia is a nation of slavers and genocidaires; were Empress Relena in this very room at this very moment, I would suppose that any one of us present would be well within their rights to kill her where she stands, weapons training or no weapons training. I know we VIsayans would, at the very least.” Hornet tapped Jarvis’ shoulder, signalling that it was his turn to take over and speak of additional issues surrounding the civil rights situation in Cassadia.

“There’s also branding of certain groups as asocial criminal elements on either ideological grounds or--and this I presume is considered relevant as it relates to the Gazgiriyeva family--sexual orientation and gender identity. The Cassadian LGBT+ community is considered to be on the same level as political opponents, not unlike the Lavender Scare that went alongside McCarthyism,” Hornet said. “Given how thoroughly repressive Cassadian society is, it would be extremely difficult, if not outright impossible, to directly support local dissident groups.”

“Given the geo-political situation though, retaliation will be tricky.” True Faith stated, clicking onto the next slide. “Given that they have a large army and navy, receiving new warships for assembly as well, direct action is out, even without factoring in military sizes. No one can keep up a 10,000 kilometre supply chain, much less one that’s in hostile waters. However, opportunities to undermine the regime may present themselves.”

“The Cassadians have been embroiled in a pacification campaign of one of their provinces, Albarazil, which they invaded back in the 70s.” Park interjected. “The province, turbulent as it may be, provides the oil that Cassadia needs for domestic use and export sales.”

The Director of National Intelligence raised his hand, and afterwards asked when Park gestured for him to ask. “Yes, Mr. Director?” she asked. “And what do you suppose we do to keep Cassadia tied up in Albarazil as a means to undermine the Cassadian regime?” the Director asked.

“Hit the oil, hit the money. That will have the Cassadians on a run for their money.” Park replied. ”They can deploy only so many troops, which can defend only so many oil depots, refineries, wells, and kilometres of pipe. If they send reinforcements everywhere, they will be weak everywhere.” she added further.

Now it was the Chancellor who would ask her; the Chancellor raised his hand, and not long before hand Park gestured for him to ask. “Yes, Chancellor?” Park gestured. “This is an eternal war that’s going on down there.” the Chancellor remarked, before adding the question: “Who stands to lose more? Who stands to lose less?” The Chancellor, himself a former Army general, was a calculating and conniving individual who made sure his soldiers lose less in a game where everyone loses one way or another.

“They lose their oil and money. We can lose perhaps some of our worst jihadists.” Park remarked, with a strong tinge of Machiavellianism in her words.

“At best,” Hornet said to True Faith sotto voce. “At worst, this backfires in the most horrific way possible several years down the line.” After all, Hornet knew what kind of blowback could be expected down the line: whether it be backing the mujahideen precursors to the Taliban against the Soviets, the Ayatollah against the Shah, Saddam and the Ayatollah against each other, the Contras against the Sandinistas, or Pol Pot against a unified Vietnam, someone somewhere down the line was going to get a crocodile clamping down hard on their backside.

“And how do you think we can let loose dangerous jihadists and get away with it?” the Lakambini interjected.

“Your Majesty, plausible deniability is the essence of our work, our modus operandi--and we’d make sure none of this slips out.” Park replied.

“The hills have eyes, the earth has ears, and the news has wings. You better do correctly whatever you are thinking of doing to further destabilise an already unstable area, and keep it under heavy wraps, Agent Park.” the Director of National Intelligence sternly remarked. “I am counting on you. Now, let’s move on.” he sternly added.

Personally, I would have done the same. Nice work, Park. the CID Director (himself attending via a secured Zoom room) thought to himself, all the while tending to missives and messages from the newly-formed TF-VALORANT, which would start by rooting out Cassadian assets in-country. At the same time he thought that TF-VALORANT can and should be in two different places at once: in Albarazil, serving as the middleman training and funding the Islamic rebellion (they didn’t mind that the largest Albarazilian insurgent group was literally an Islamic State affiliate), and in the Union, rooting out Cassadian smuggling and espionage networks.

Hornet, on the other hand, contemplated on the ramifications of co-opting the largest Albarazilian insurgent group. The Visayans knew that said insurgent group was legally considered on the same level as the Cassadians as far as the Confederation was concerned, both due to the obvious terrorism with ties to the Islamic State and their stated convictions that would have religious minorities all but killed off. But if there was a way to get the minorities on board with plans to sabotage Cassadian rule...

With another click, another slide presented itself. It showed a somewhat grainy satellite photo of a shipyard, with four large vessels seemingly incomplete moored in drydocks.

“Four new battlecruisers have yet to undergo final assembly in the Krasnov shipyards, all part of a larger order with the country of Marquesan. Each one is estimated to cost upwards of a billion dollars, Of course, attacking them as they’re awaiting refit would be risky, possibly plunging people into a war. But with little evidence…”

“It’s highly likely that we risk goading Marquesan into attacking us should we decide to attack the four battlecruisers currently at the Krasnov shipyards. This is presuming the presence of foreign nationals from that country,” Jarvis added.

At the same time, the Chancellor just couldn’t help but ponder why the Cassadians ordered what is essentially a glorified battleship in the first place. Granted, cruisers of that size have a major (if overpowered) role to play in fleet air defence when appropriately equipped (the Royal Commonwealth was, after all, starting to field such a vessel), but this was more of a vanity “big guns ship” project for the Empress than anything useful for the Royal Cassadian Navy. The CID Director and DNI, who gave him the specifications of the ship (which they obtained via black market and espionage sources), shared the same sentiment. The missile loadout was anaemic, even when compared to the closest counterpart the Russian Kirov-class, and especially in the face of the Palmyrian Mactan II - class.

“However, Lakambini. I must unfortunately say though that Lauzanne cannot affect much of this situation. We can offer support, but there’s ultimately not much that we can do, given our size and capabilities.” True Faith mentioned keeping a respectful tone as he addressed the ruler of Palmyrion.

“With due respect, Agent Faith, while I recognise that Lauzanne may not do much conventionally to affect the situation, I believe it can reasonably punch above its weight class through unconventional means.” the Lakambini replied. “There are many ways to skin a cat, and many of them by unconventional means. Black operations--which is what Agent Park essentially suggested in order to undermine the Cassadian regime--is one of them.” she added. “I figure Lauzannian intelligence would be able to undertake black operations?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am, we learned well from the Soviets. Sabotage, counter-intelligence, reconnaissance… Removal of dangerous individuals. Plus, seeing as we have… ‘Airborne Reconnaissance Regiment’ troops with us, the SVRL is fully capable in this regard.” True Faith left the obvious implication hanging in the air, before continuing.

“I haven’t received word from the Director that we will be staying in Palmyrion, but I’m assuming that’s about to change as soon as this meeting is over. My team is incomplete, but I’ll get the others sent over to work with this Task Force Valorant in counterintelligence and HUMINT.” Going to get the other four best removalists in Lauzanne. These guys must already have targets lined up as well… Busy schedule

Liquidation...what a pleasant word. The most thankless portion of a most thankless career. the CID Director remarked sotto voce.

“Agent Faith, while I don’t know what your Director will say about your stay in Palmyrion, you can have my word on this: I will meet with the Intelligence Community at a separate time to ensure that you get all the time you need here in the Royal Commonwealth.” the Lakambini said.

“My thanks, Lakambini. I believe my director will be waiting on a call from your higher-ups on whether I should remain in Palmyrion or if my team and I are to be redeployed.”

“Lakambini, it is safe to presume that Cassadia also keeps Albarazail’s minorities placated by more or less privileging them since the 1980s; while they are in essence second-class subjects who do not enjoy the freedom of movement granted to Cassadians, Cassadia relies on them for cheap labor and local management,” Hornet said. “Loath I am to say this, for reasons involving us Visayans technically seeing the ISEA as being on the same level as Cassadia--indeed, our first impulse when dealing with an ISEA leader brought here would be as if he was Empress Relena, that is, a bullet right between the eyes--a two-pronged approach would be extremely useful.

“On one hand, the ISEA plays merry hell in Albarazil. This puts the minorities Cassadia panders to in order to maintain control at great risk: Alawites, Shi’ites, and Christians would justifiably see a resurgent ISEA as their shared nightmare made manifest. With Cassadian forces getting their teeth kicked in, these minorities will realize Cassadia can only hold the ISEA off for so long before they fall into those bastards’ crosshairs. This is where the other hand comes in: subverting the minorities through propaganda intended to remind them of the dangers of trusting the Cassadians, inspiring civil rights movements willing to fight for those rights, and encouraging the sabotage of facilities and installations key to maintaining Cassadian control of Albarazil. While in the short run this runs the risk of forcing further repression, the fact that doing so validates the propaganda on the dangers of aiding the Cassies means that minorities get to witness an existential flight/flight response firsthand. That most of the time flight is the first option is exactly the point: we want them scared enough of the ISEA and Cassadia to plan for a mass exodus, and we can have VIA assets and proxies ready to pick them up as soon as the opportunity presents itself.”

“On the one hand, Cassadia fields advanced equipment in large numbers, outgunning the ISEA.” Director of National Intelligence noted. “Kicking the Cassadian forces’ teeth in would be a taxing one in this regard, though there will be many ways to outsmart Cassadian technology, and I am interested in how we can pull this one off.” he added. “On the other hand, while we can pitch in to pick up the minorities, this raises the question of how we can integrate a mass of refugees in societies completely alien to them--but I figure refugee integration programmes in our respective countries are in tip-top shape, am I correct?” he further remarked.

“The Confederation does maintain a refugee/asylee integration program, yes,” Hornet replied. “As a matter of fact, our efforts in New Edom--among them the Rainbow Pipeline, properly known as the New Edom LBGT+ Asylum and Resettlement Program--had honed said program. In addition, we have a standing agreement with Allanea in the event that the program exceeds the quota set annually by the Secretary of Foreign Affairs; the quota for this year is 35000 refugees and asylees, and any overflow will trigger the provisions of said agreement, which require us to redirect any refugees and asylees exceeding the quota to Allanea. I’m not going to lie: any refugees we’re taking in will have to compete with refugees and asylees coming from other nations. Hypothetically, we can arm and/or support rebels interested in taking the fight to the Cassies, but this risks sparking the kind of internecine conflict that drove Cassadia to pander to the minorities in the first place.”

“And, if this sparks an internecine conflict, wouldn’t this give Cassadia’s oil supply a major blow?” the Director of National Intelligence said, with Machiavellian intent.

“It would. But a scenario where the rebels we hypothetically support end up clashing with the ISEA would mean we--that is, the Confederation and Palmyrion--risk a collision of interests, and we’d rather not have that if we could help it.” Behind Hornet, Blowtorch lit up a cigarette; he knew that Hornet would rather play the negotiator, and if that meant he was willing to point out every ramification to ensure that the rest of the team--at this point the CID, the VIA, and the SVRL--knew what options could be taken for maximum impact at minimum cost, so be it.

“So, how do we fund all these rebel groups and ISEA, and not have them fight each other? Or do we fund ISEA only?” the Director asked.

“If Cassadia was capable of hacking into the DSA, theoretically we could return the favor,” Watchman said. “Suborning Cassadian officials to allow certain Albarazilians to come to the core territories could give official backing robust enough to let those certain subjects plan for a little hell-raising. At the very least, the Cassies know whose head needs to roll if things go south: the ones we suborned and/or whoever they managed to set up to get the chop. A shame if some senior GRB puke with a promotion in the works is held responsible for letting some Shi’ites from Albarazil raise hell in a factory somewhere…” Watchman sported a particularly evil grin.

“The hard part is pulling that off and staying ahead of the GRB in every step.” the Director of the Bureau of International Research, the DSA’s intelligence wing, remarked.

“It’d be hard. But it’d be possible. Although for now that should be planning only. For now we should focus on removing as many GRB assets in-country as soon as possible.”

by **New Visayan Islands** » Wed Feb 03, 2021 8:16 am

LTG Alvin V. Johnson, VCA
Department of Defense Complex, Consolacion, DH
February 2nd, AD 2021
1311 PHT

The formalization of a second Joint Task Force had taken some time after it was first proposed by Senator Dorian Corona. It saw Alvin Johnson earn his third star, however, so he could not begrudge anyone. The man formerly in command of the Army's Second Armored Division had received orders to report to the VCDD Complex; there he was formally promoted to lieutenant general and reassigned to serve as the deputy commander of Joint Task Force Unforgiven. In his place as commanding general of 2nd Armored would be Antonio Miguel Goto IV, formerly his deputy commander. As deputy commander of JTF Unforgiven, his immediate superior was a newly-minted vice admiral named Miguel Antonio Hara, formerly the commander of Carrier Strike Group Magellan. He knew there would have to be exercises to get the people that will soon fall under his command up to snuff; he could imagine the thoughts of Territorials getting their marching orders as the days would pass.
"So, what do you think?" Alvin found his ruminations interrupted by the question coming from General Matthew Ulysses Castañares, an Air Force four-star who had recently become the commander of Foreign Command.
"Sir, I think we could use additional time for training. Looking at the upcoming composition of the Territorials that will be joining us, I think it would be extremely important if we're all on the same page," Alvin replied.
"Which is precisely why we have the CGs of the Territorial Divisions on the horn as well. Did you get all these, generals?" Hara interjected, to the tune of the six generals of the Territorial Divisions assigned to JTF Unforgiven replying in affirmation to the admiral's query. Indeed, the territorials had already assembled at their respective garrisons the day before, with exercises in the works. There would be some reacquainting with the weapons and equipment that the Territorials would use, but each of the generals was confident enough that they would be up to snuff. They would have to, after all; Exercise GLASS SAINT was coming up, and the six Territorial Divisions assigned to JTF Unforgiven would be participating in the exercise.
As soon as the discussion finished and plans drawn up, it was time to speak to the Secretary of Defense. The new Secretary of Defense--an Army general who, prior to his appointment, was once the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff--was interested in how JTF Unforgiven was to operate in the days and weeks to come.

by **Qassadia** » Wed Feb 03, 2021 4:51 pm

January 19th
Carthage
Royal Palace

Another day, another day at the office. That was the thought of Volodymyr Zelensky, a man of unimposing stature but handsome face. He remembered that moment when those Royal Guard men-in-suits rang on the door in of his apartment on that faithful day, in the wee hours of the night to bring him a proposal that Volodymyr could not even fathom, much less possible considering how well-founded his absolute shock if he would consider accepting the post of Royal Prime-Secretary. For a humble man like himself; that meant having to assume this prestigious office. Now that a year and a half had passed since that, this teacher-turned G-Man of the highest order was finally beginning to get used to being in command of the Crown-Government's second most powerful position in the country (however mutually shared with the post of Master of the Royal Office it was) as well as all the responsibilities it entailed.

His colleague and former office-holder from what Zelensky got to learn from him had been that he could no longer juggle this demanding office with his near advanced age. The man himself being a veteran of the Crown-Government was understandable, even though Yoronov Lukashenko was not as old as some other geriatrics such as Lepi Andreyov, the Royal Secretary of Energy. Volodymyr Zelensky initially believing the man's resignation had made this decision on his own volition and in good conscience. It was not after-the-fact when Zelensky had just assumed this powerful office shortly thereafter would he uncover the truth, that the resignation of his predecessor.

Not that he could do anything about it, unfortunately. Such was the reality for most courtiers and servants of the Monarchy, an iron truth that had been self-evident long before Cassadia was established as a country.

The closer you are to the Khan - the closer to death.

Or the Emperor, as was the case with the titan of a man, who had been the commanding personality of Charles Von Peacekraft. A legacy that his daughter was sure to maintain and cultivate upon.

At this moment Zelensky stood alone in the private domain that was this opulently furnished office as the middle-aged, former school teacher found himself consumed in thought for many things. Letting out a sigh, the Prime-Secretary stood up from his chair and walked over to the window as he drank in the sight of Carthage's night skyline; with its rising 9-story apartment complex in the neo-classical style in the distance, outside the frame, they spanned across the outer premises of the Palace's into a choppy square through which ran the asphalt boulevards leading up to the majestic building in between the green spaces of interconnected parks and gardens that had been placed symmetrically to span across in each green space that was located adjacent to the Royal Palace in four parks in the shape of a square between which were laid, wide boulevards that were separated from the greenery by terrazzo sidewalks along which were planted linden trees along the boulevard.

All the while, the Prime-Secretary listened to the chatter that had been coming from the landline telephone on his desk, which he had put on loudspeaker so he could follow the conversations that had been ongoing over an hour now. As always, it was about matters that involved the state in one form or another, from the current happenings in other parts of the Holy Kingdom to the economy as well as foreign policy and military matters. Currently, it was the latter two, with the conversation being maintained by Master of the Royal Office Parvan Angelov, Royal Secretary of Energy Lepi Andreyov, Grand Admiral Schneizel Doenitz, Marshal of the Armed Forces Igor Sergeyev, Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs Joachim von Ribbentrop and his deputy Sergei Lavrov and Director of the General Reconnaissance Bureau Hafez Nonette.

PHONE TELECONFERENCE START

Parvan Angelov: ...and how would you account for the international backlash that has been piling over us? Couldn't you have thought this over, before you gave your people the green light to blow people up? The era of fighting dirty commies is over Nonnette, you can't just sign off on our enemies like that. Imagine if Unit 0056443 had experienced a critical mission failure, or if their termination measures did not proceed as planned. Let me you that the original mission of that GRB team was to extract intel from Gazgireyeva's laptop and secure access to the Rainbow's internal communications - Not blow her up! The individuals comprising that team were not trained specifically for this type of mission, to begin with. What subsequently transpired was that the dices fell on a favorable outcome.''

Hafez Nonnette: Mister Angelov, I think you are gravely mistaken in your assessment and the angle from which you are interpreting the results from my bureau's special operation. While it is true that my bureau's field team was not out for this kind of mission; the circumstance on the ground presented too opportune of a chance for us, to take out a known and potentially dangerous malcontent. Thus, it was only rational that we ordered Unit 0056443 to seize upon this moment to carry out this type of special action against Adlopovna Gazgireyeva. All of our field agents of the 1st Directorate receive specialized training in a variety of operational skills, from infiltration and subversive tactics, to sabotage and assassination to cyber warfare. These methods have always proven versatile in assuring mission success of our agents in the field, that is --so long as they pursue their objectives by the book. Something other of note is that Unit 0056443 performed more than adequately despite not having the certified specialized qualification to stage a termination, on the target.

Parvan Angelov: That is not my point Miss Nonnette. I am not disputing the marvelous success of your however impromptu operation. What I meant to say was that the success of your operation, in the end, was heavily dependant on the luck afforded to them, by the careless neglect of both the Palmyrion authorities and the utter lack of digital OpSec security and overly confident attitude of Gazgireyeva's personal safety on her part own part, coupled of that from Palmyrion's security services.

Hafez Nonnete: While I agree with you to an extent with your statement, you have to understand this sir: Every operation, no matter how much successful it is in its likelihood of being carried out to its desired point of conclusion - carries with it risks. Boiled down to percentages, it could be a 99:1 chance of it being a mission success, but that one percent is still there, even for those operations that have an almost absolute coefficient of success, that one tiny sliver of percentage likelihood for failure is still there. My colleague Igor Sergeyev can corroborate my claim, that no plan, no matter how perfect can remain the same together could either be the difference between the desired outcome or a catastrophic downward spiral that is going to induce a disaster for our country.

Volodymyr Zelensky: I think think that would be enough of your petty squabbles. Cut it off, BOTH of you!

Parvan Angelov:...

Hafez Nonnete:...

Volodymyr Zelensky: Good. Now, I'll ask each of you for your rapport on the subjects at hand, WHEN I address each of you, one at a time. I'll begin with good Admiral Schneizel and Marshal Sergeyev as I no doubt they have more pressing concerns at hand.

Volodymyr Zelensky: Marshal Sergeyev, I believe you had to give your thought that was in regards to something connected to addressing ''state and non-state retaliation measures'' when I was on the phone with you earlier...Can you be so helpful to unravel the details in full?

Marshal Igor Sergeyev: You are too kind Your Excellency -- On the topic: I believe that there are a high likelihood and a risk, that certain members of the Amistad Pact may attempt to try and undermine our position through chipping away at our stability repository, specifically at our position in New Carthage by attacking our energy infrastructure including up to providing the Islamic Emirate of Albarazil with financial and material support. Other options available that these probable actors could take advantage of is to attempt to degrade or dismantle our [i]trade and finance networks of firms, bank accounts, and partners. Another concern that is at the meat of this could range from anything to cyber attacks or infiltration efforts to undermine the stability of Cassadian society and the political structures. I don't rule out them trying to pit our collaborative elements in Albarazil against us, this is too compelling of an opportunity to rule out, considering how fragile at times our alliance with our Shiíte, Alawite, and Christian friends has been over the decades.[/i]

Lepi Andreyov: I am afraid that I am in full agreement here with the Marshal. Our relationship with the minorities of New Carthage should not be taken as a given, one that is not like an animal we can just throw it meats and fatten it up every now and believe that it will be forever beholden to us. On the contrary, there always lingers a chance that the animal could just jump on us and feed off our meat.

Marshal Igor Sergeyev: An, outstanding observation of this too-uncomfortable possibility. I am impressed.

Lepi Andreyov: Thank you, Marshal.

Volodymyr Zelensky: Your statement does hold a heavy merit. There could be a case here, regardless - to reiterate the Empress's view on the topic, I think we should all spare no resource to fortify our position in light of these unpredictable times.

Marshal Igor Sergeyev: I fully agree.

Lepi Andreyov: Same here.

Joachim von Ribbentrop: Cannot argue with that.

Hafez Nonnete: A correct assessment indeed.

Parvan Angelov: *positive hum*

Volodymyr Zelensky: Anyways, back at Admiral Schneizel; What has been the situation on the delivery of the Nimrod battlecruisers?

Schneizel Doenitz: Coming along as planned, they should be moored at our shipyard in Krasnov within a week. An additional note of interest has been the entry of a Marquesan submarine entering Krillin regional waters, that our Southern Command SOSUS picked up.

Volodymyr Zelensky: I see you are a bearer of pleasant news. Thank you, Admiral, other than that, I think that was all required of you for this call - I think you and your colleague should disconnect as I am sure you have more pressing issues to attend to.

Igor Sergeyev: Thank you Volodya, anyways you have my regards. I'll see you soon.

Schneizel Doenitz: You have my gratitude Prime Secretary.

Volodymyr Zelensky: Take care -- Now; I think I am going to come back at you Director Hafez and you Secretary Joachim. The rest, if they so wish can disconnect as I think this should conclude soon enough.

Hafez Nonnete: So, I see that you want to hear more about our counter-intelligence operation in shadowing that Reznikovan spy group I presume?

Volodymyr Zelensky: Correct -- I'd like to hear more about it, now that our not-pleasant socialist international partners have packed their bags and gone home. As to be expected, their rather illegal agents have remained in the country, no?

Hafez Nonnete: Quite cliche, but yes. Our men on the case have been monitoring their movements and assorted individuals with who they have established sustained social contact. The Reinkalistani agents are four, two in Carthage, one in Etropole, and one in Pavelburg - to my knowledge, there are no other illegals. Fortunately, we have had our colleagues working on the matter from the Royal Bureau of Investigation to bait them into falling for one of our bear traps, into what they consider is an Abolitionist Army cell *laughs cheerfully*. Though we have all concluded that it is high time for this gig to be over and the curtain lowered.

Volodymyr Zelensky: Ending the party I see; let me guess, you want me to contact General Gene Smilas to allocate to you SPEMOPOB unit on their tail?

Hafez Nonnete: Mhm, I'll need them on standby, to be ready to execute the sting, come at the beginning of next week - before our good Raznikovan friends suspect they're in our crosshairs.

Volodymyr Zelensky: That could be arranged, I'll get in touch with Her Majesty, to inform her of this. Certainly, that is the least of our problems -- what is though, is to apprehend these scoundrels in one piece, alive.

Hafez Nonnete: True, we'll run the numbers, and have local law enforcement on standby to assist if anything should go south.

Volodymyr Zelensky: Excellent, I think that would be all I needed from you for the moment, good Director. Take care...now, back to you Joachim - can you get me back on the reactions that have come out since Adlopovna's physical termination.

Joachim von Ribbentrop: Mostly negative to different degrees. Although, the offer from the government of Faraby does seem interesting on paper, to serve as a third-party host country, if those skanks from Amistad agree to meet any of our officials in the first place.

Volodymyr Zelensky: I see its the usual picture on your front. No matter, have your department send down the wire the usual communique -- oh, the last thing. Keep an eye on the Polish-Prussian Commonwealth's mission. I want the temporary suspension of their consulate to be only that: temporary. Nothing more, nothing else.

Joachim von Ribbentrop: Whatever you say Big Boss.

Volodymyr Zelensky: *chuckles*

PHONE TELECONFERENCE END

by **McNernia** » Wed Feb 03, 2021 7:48 pm

Official Communique of the Kingdom of Archinia
HM Foreign Ministry

To:Palmyrion Embassy in Archinia
From:The office of the Foreign Minister of Archinia
Cc:The Embassy of New Visyan Islands
Sec:SECRET
Sub:Amistad

Greetings

As you are no doubt aware the Kingdom of Archinia is a signatory alongside yourselves to the Amistad Declaration which comitts the Kingdom to a state of Total War against Nations which practice the institution of Slavery.

HM Government would like to convene a conference at your earliest convenience to discuss how the Kingdom of Archinia may be of assistance to you in the endevour of eliminating Cassdia as a Slavery State

Sincerely

S.Calgran
Foreign Minister

by **Marquesan** » Thu Feb 04, 2021 8:02 am

SAN.161 "Ravana-B" class Submarine "Maquedo"
Marquesan Rally Point, 25 Km. SE of Krasnov, Cassadia
(+3 Days from last post) Local Time: 1450 Hours

"Multiple contacts, bearing zero-nine-five, moving away from us. It's the towing ships and the Foudroyant, Capitan, we're in their baffles."

"Acknowledged. Conn, bring us to transmission depth. Comms, raise the ULF antenna."

"Oui, Capitan!" Both crewmen responded in unison. Gently, the big missile-armed nuclear boat tilted upward toward daylight in the warm coastal waters of southern Cassadia.

"Reduce speed to silent, Conn."

"Oui, Capitan."

A few moments passed before the boat leveled off and slowed down.

"The boat is as Silent Speed, Capitan. We are at transmission depth."

"Capitan, antenna is up."

"Very well, signal the Foudroyant."

"Oui, Capitan."

As the two submarines made contact, they broke off from the towing ships, which would cover the last few kilometers of the approach into Krasnov without submarine cover, as the military boats had been ordered not to surface inside Cassadian territorial waters. Aboard the Foudroyant, Captain Colbert was signaling to the four warships being towed into Krasnov that transfer was complete and that they were now to fall under Cassadian protection and that the Marquesan crews were to make ready to leave. A Marquesan LA-CDM registered Derecho heavy transport aircraft waited fully-fueled at the Krasnov International Airport to transport the crews home to Gholgoth. The Maquedo and Foudroyant slowed to a crawl, minimizing the disturbance they'd make in the water. Overhead, the crowded shipping lanes converging on Krasnov were full of civilian traffic and the sonar operators aboard both submarines were busily classifying contacts as they passed by.

There were no crowds to welcome the warships at the docks this morning, only a small army of dock workers who would be positioning the four massive nuclear-powered warships in their drydocks for outfitting with guns and missiles, for final installation of electronic equipment and painting them in Cassadian colors over the grey crushed hematite rustproofing they left the Barrigada Shipworks with. Each towing ship approached the drydock one at a time, releasing their towing cables once tugboats had signaled they had control of the warships.

So far, the transfer was as orderly as could be hoped for, and both submarines were charting their return trips.

by **Qassadia** » Thu Feb 04, 2021 3:11 pm

Bulgar Khanate

The countryside estate of the Lukov family was a lovely piece of land of Bulgar, a self-governing territory of the Holy Kingdom. An administrative throwback to those aristocrats who in ways left to History, managed to preserve a modicum of authority for their estates, backed up by a universal legion of lesser nobles under their lands.

The estate was far off from any reasonable source of civilization. The manor, the chateau, and all other buildings, including the personal airstrip, was built in such a way, so that as few trees were required to be cut down, thus creating a beautiful complimentary symbiosis between the structures of Man, and the rolling carpet of trees that stretched in every direction over the meadows and hills as far as the eye can see, with its ugly, overshadowing the old-style French Classical architecture. The estate had a long gravel-paved driveway through a boulevard of oak trees and was a modest building that was built in a manner to resemble a typical, upper-class French chateau, something that was overshadowed by the main manor of the Robvoi compound, a 40-room mansion with an inner courtyard with a Greek-esque gazebo in the center, the building's facade on the outside was formulated following the Victorian architectural school, truly a pleasant sight to behold.

The land had originally had only a hunting lodge and country home designed for Khan Valery II in 1811 and intended to be on loan to the Proconsul of Topolovgorod. Two generations later, it was gifted to the Lukovs as a reward for their service to the Khan Noylev I and had been in the family ever since.

Two, dots at a distance, from what could be gouged were horses, slowly galloped up to a destination only their riders knew. One of them had significantly more, delicate features, with a long streak of long golden hay hair dropping down to the middle of her back. Those, clearly being the physical features of a woman; Relena von Peacekraft like her usual self carried on in most matters with a stoic, neutral grace and pose, observing more and letting her opinions be heard only when she intended to take matters into her own hands.

Marquise Jajace Tvrtko could not wrap his head around the coldness of his fiance -- sure he was excited to be wedded to a woman whom his person had deep respect and admiration for the intellect, the figure, the personality, and the intrinsic goodness of the character that his fiance conveyed in everything she, as Empress did and committed to doing in the future. The Marquise could only pray to the Lord that the Empress's heart would mellow to his company. For both their sakes and the good of any future children they were called to have by the duty of their Blood and the call of every Royal.

Indeed, Jajace's wife-to-be would be cheered up at the moment, as the sound of hoof gallops could be heard to their right, a pair of horses appearing from the hazy mist, one ridden by the Master of the estate, Baron Punchev Lukov, with his radiant smile and calm, warm demeanor, the modest casual wear, not even bothering to don the usual gear; like boots, jodhpurs or a riding helmet. Of course, the other horse rider strictly wore that. Indeed, Relena would never allow for even the possibility to befall any kind of injury to her Nunnaly, the Empress's dear baby sister.

The two gripped their horses to a halt, as they witnessed how Nunnally steered her horse to make circles around the Baron's own, a merry mood and joy that was voiced in the delight that she could once again re-acquaint with this noble hobby that was equestrianship. Lukov also appeared to share the sentiment as he chuckled with a smile across his face that revealed the noble's pearl whites. Furthermore praising her bravery and boldness of her skill as the young Princess made her horse do circles around the Baron's own, all the while they made their horses clop up to where the Marquise and the Empress were watching.

''Nunna is such a joy-filling, bright spot. I am so happy you listened to Punchev to have her take a break from Ashford.'' Jajace said brightly.

''I promised mama and papa that I'll watch over her and protect my baby sister with all I have,'' Relena replied coldly.

''RALI RALI, look!'' Over-exclaimed the petite Princess as she and the other companion finally came over to where the Jajace Tvrtko and Relena were. The very words and the overflowing innocent disposition of Nunnally made the Empress's heart melt, and her face mellows into a longing, loving sisterly expression.

''Bate Puni, taught me the ins-and-outs of how to ride a horse again. I almost forgot what this animal looked like!'' Nunnally declared, pridefully for all to hear.

''She's quite the fast learner, I was pleasantly surprised myself, to see her how she took control of the bounds so naturally.'' Punchev warmly corroborated to them, that which was obvious'' Isn't that right my Princess Peach?'' the Baron added.

Nunnally giggled,'' O' cease it you, It's not like this is anything like math or physics or anything.'' the cute-ish girl moaned in disagreement.

''You need not be so humble my Princess Peach, not many people can grasp the art of horsemanship nowadays. Few even do, even among those of good Noble Stock.'' Lukov contested her assertion, with a polite gentleness in his tone.

''Oh stop it you, it's not like anyone cannot learn it with time. It's just that most people prefer automobiles -- say Bate Puni, when are you going to let me drive?''

This question, made the Baron burst into a rich laugh, that got even to Jajace. Surely, Nunnally's overbearing insistence and energy were like a whirlwind that terminated positive energy wherever it went.

''NUNNA, you're a proper lady, you don't need to drive!'' Relena protested.

''Now there Relena, I think you should cut Nunnally some slack.'' Marquise Tvrtko interjected, which caused the Empress to shoot her glare back at her fiance. Shooting such daggers, that made the Marquise feel as if a cold sweat fell down his spine, as he projected a smile, rubbing the back of his head anxiously.

''Oh, pish-posh big sister, I'll be fine. What's the worse that could happen.'' The younger sister dismissed her, which caused Relena's warm disposition to turn serious.

''When you turn of age, Princess Peach. I'll let you take all the cars in my dad's collection for a spin. I promise.'' Called out Lukov, which left Nunnally explode with happiness, her eyes glittering with delight while her older sibling was left with mouth agape.

'' Yay, yay, yay. You're the best Bate Puni.'' Proclaimed the Royal with delight as she brought her horse next to Lukov's own, embracing him, something that Lukov reciprocated.

''Oh, my sweet little Nunna,'' the words of Relena felt, wavering as her eyes became watery,'' come here to me, please.'' The Empress asked of her sibling. The Princess, being a good sister, did not hesitate, guiding her horse to Relena's as she too wrapped her hands around her older sister into an embrace, ending with a kiss on the forehead which made Nunnally giggled, and felt as if butterflies were in her stomach.

'' You three, continue to the cottage. I need to go back to the chateau to clear up some Legion business and after that, I'll rush back to you in fifteen minutes. Will that be alright with all of you?''

The trio that Lukov addressed nodded collectively.'' Good, I'll catch you all in a minute. YA!'' The Baron said before he kicked the horse into a U-turn into what was a galloping rush across the meadow toward a two-story, villa-like building in the distance behind foliage.

The Marquise knew better, he was after all one of the few people who knew in what kind of state and conditions, Punchev Lukov's mother was kept. Sequestered in a mid-size country house huddled in a forested ridge that extended to the south of the chateau further up like a appendage that was connected by the same gravel road that linked up Lukov family’s actual residence.

'' So, sir Jajace. Will you be so kind to tell me the story of how you two met?'' Nunnally inquired all of a sudden to him. This made the Marquise into a genuine smile, even Relena, though it was more of a forced ordeal on her end.''I am dying to know all about it.'' She said in an animated tone.

''Well, well; Where do I begin...It all happened at this ball, years ago when you were but a toddle...''

The Marquise would go on like this, with the teenage Princess intently listening to his stories - some true, other only partially, another completely fraudulent. Though it was worth it after all. Their three horses continued to clop up the hill towards the cottage, although it was little more than a fancy cabin. Nonetheless, the inexperienced Royal listened closely, obviously delighted and wrapped in her own dreams of having a Prince Charming that would sweep her off her feet, after which they would live happily ever after.

If only it was true and not a naive folly. Relena thought to herself.

by **Qassadia** » Fri Feb 05, 2021 1:14 pm

Code: Select all: To: The General Consulate of the Prussian-Polish Commonwealth Foreign Mission to Cassadia and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs From: Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs Joachim von Ribbentrop Subject: Future Diplomatic Relations Your Excellencies, On behalf of Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena (I) Von Peacekraf that we mark your sudden departure of your Foreign Mission to the Holy Kingdom with great sadness as to the international circumstances as well as foreign pressures that may have induced your thinking behind the decision of your country's government to see that the General Consulate is withdrawn from my country. However, we of Her Majesty's Crown-Government do still look forward to the future in continuing the fledgling ties that blossomed when, His Majesty Emperor Charles VII, Lord bless his soul, approved for the cultivation of resistance that brought about the end of the wretched beast of communism that lingered over your nation for over a generation. Thus saving the faith, and the morals of Christian civilization before they were about to be lost forever at the clutches of godless miscreants. We, on another note, would like to remind you of the legal ordinances governing Foreign Missions that military-grade assault weapons that are not conceal carry, must be transported separately to your aerial transport, additionally any confirmed cases of criminal felony like the unlawful coveting of property shall be prevented by law enforcement. We, of the Crown-Government, look further in seeing the return of your Foreign Mission to our country, for it is in the interest of both our peoples to advance the deep cultural, religious, and commercial ties, that bind our civilizations together. On behalf of the whole of the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia, we would like to bid you a pleasant and safe journey. I Have The Honor To Be, Sir Joachim von Ribbentrop

by **Qassadia** » Fri Feb 05, 2021 4:22 pm

The port city of Krasnov, like many others in the Holy Kingdom, was prioritized on a different parameter of development and funding, both by the Regional Viceroy Administration, and the Crown-Government themselves. Both of these institutions would pool important resources, due to the city's location and its port. During the first half of the 20th Century, the city of Krasnov turned from what was, nothing but a minor port town, into an important base for the Royal Navy, as well as for economical reasons because of the vast deposits of iron ore, one hundred and twenty kilometers to the north of the city.

Henceforth, from that moment onward, the town of Krasnov would become a major regional hub for commerce as well as international trade, for other out-of-region third-party countries during the times of the Cold War. Beginning in the 1940s the town would transform from a town with a population of under 100 thousand people, into a sprawling city of new districts of blocky flats that housed a population and influx of almost 900 thousand freeborn Crown subjects that lived and worked mainly in the local defense and industrial enterprises that had been set up to support the rapid expansion of the naval base, port, and naval construction yards for supporting a rapid build-up of the Royal Navy and its continued maintenance, modernization, overhaul or complete replacement of older hulls, with newer corvettes, frigates, destroyers, and submarines.

Krasnov's original infrastructure was a prerequisite for its expansion, one that took shape in the construction of drydocks, shipyards, and the establishment of a Royal Navy base that included the building of what was elongated, ''submarine pens'', these were structures made from prefabricated reinforced concrete, with steel bars attached to springs that mellowed the penetration of any known bunker-busting ordinance, even to this very day. These facilities would give the Navy the ability to refuel, re-arm and conduct maintenance fully within the interior of these structures, all within the safety of the bunkers.

Like most of the other locations along the city's coast, it was overtaken by blocky buildings or the original, tenements and buildings built in the Classical style of architecture, which were huddled in between the enormous holding areas and other port facilities of the city, standing out modestly from among the sight of giant warehouses and other specialized building that housed important ship-building equipment, hulls, parts, and other sensitive instruments.

Today, for that matter, was a jolly day, as most of the port workers had been ordered to postponed or had the works on which they were previously working on, to be canceled. All were ordered to show up, clean, and properly dressed in their working apparel and personal utility gear as well as safety equipment. They were made to assemble into neat lines, obediently doing so as a result of each mans' time in the service of the military. The virtue of discipline and obedience is ingrained within each one of them.

As the process was in progress and done, the port construction workers would look to their right or front, depending on where their row line was assembled, with those in the front being able to spot the sight of four ships way over on the horizon. Even from such distance, those with sharper eyes could see that these vessels were bigger than anything most have ever seen up to this point, except for those who had the privilege in getting the opportunity to get to see an aircraft carrier or have even been on one, doing ship maintenance work, as some of them had previously worked in the shipyards of Ilopirt, Zorstrev, and Lukavac that were capable of accommodating these vast beasts of steel, titanium and a whole other soup of metal types and wiring.

The men would stand around where they were for another hour and a half, chatting to each other as the sight came into clear view, as it approached the waters, steadily with careful precision as whoever was behind the controls, carefully guided the ships, its sisters doing likewise, something that took another half an hour to complete, as colleagues on those stations carefully accommodated the large, behemoths to moor inside the drydocks.

Finally, once all the procedures were completed and done for, the members of whatever crew were on it, began to disembark it in lines as they stepped down along the retractable aisle. Suddenly, to the next of them, the marching band of the nearby AFB began to play a greeting march, as several officers and the Ethnarch of the city, including the Royal Secretary of Defense they all stepped forward from behind the crowd of Zorstrev shipyard workers.

Each marching along to the front, with confidence and air around them that emanated the higher-class of society. Mostly, upper-class commoners and from the aristocracy. Thus, as they approached the Vessel captains and Control Room officers, each of them proceeded to shake their hands, with strong grips as expected of a man.

'' Dear, friends from Marquesan, these fine marvels of construction that your nation has provided to us by contract, shall serve as honourably, and by that we as Cassadians vow that we shall take dispense upon them great care that will maintain their sea-faring worthiness on the oceans for a generation to come.'' Said the ageing man who was in charge of the DoD.

'' We hope that the friendship between our two countries can further go down this route of mutual relations that further the prosperity between our peoples. On behalf of Her Majesty and the Royal Navy, we are hopeful that this bond can be maintained and strengthened beyond this simple contract.'' Stated a tall, handsome man donned in a officers' uniform of his particular service branch.

'' I can hardly wait for your people to deliver us the other seven vessels of this magnificent class which you have built for us. No doubt these ships would be of a great boon for our military, once we lay the finishing touches and put them to sea trials.'' Added the Harbor Master of the military construction shipyard.

With that, the ceremony did was shorter than expected. The Marquesan personnel was taken on temporarily commandeered public transit buses, driving them off to the city's airport. A well-maintained piece of infrastructure, even if it was a little dated on the outside in the brutalist architecture of the design of its airport terminal, escorting them through it to a transport plane belonging to their home country's air force which was on standby on one of the airport's taxi runways.

The Marquesaneans would leave the country soon enough, as the plane took them up into the sky, as it set a flight course back home. However, for the men in the shipyards of Krasnov, their work was only just beginning as their first job, was not only to lay down the finishing touches of the ship but to implement several important upgrades that only the men in the upper management and the chief engineer and technical specialist were in the know about.

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Mon Feb 08, 2021 2:03 am

No less than 3 separate replies arrived at the Cassadians' doorsteps.

SIGINT STATION/RELAY STATION 5, SIGNAL INTELLIGENCE BRIGADE, 5TH DIVISON(WARSAW)

THE PRUSSIAN-POLISH CROWN AND MINISTRY OF WAR LEGAL CORPS WOULD LIKE TO REMIND THE CASSADIAN GOVERNMENT THAT "ASSAULT WEAPON" IS A MEANINGLESS AMERICAN BUZZWORD WITHOUT A CONSISTENT AND FORMAL LEGAL DEFINITION. AS SUCH YOUR REQUEST IS CONSIDERED MOOT.

FURTHERMORE, LEX INIUSTA NON EST LEX.

END MESSAGE.

Carthage Consulate Relay Station

Understood and copied. Will transport all M249s and G3s via a separate vehicle in a secondary convoy. Galils were lost in a boating accident.

End.

OOC; Do not reply, post unfinished.

by **Qassadia** » Mon Feb 08, 2021 7:28 am

Royal Department of Foreign Affairs

''Their reply was what!?'' Cried out Joachim Von Ribbentrop, his tone starkly steeped in bewilderment and surprise at the news he received from Orlov, a lanky, tall man, this was his Undersecretary For Overseas and Domestic Missions, a sub-Department whose functions were the overseeing of the Holy Kingdom's embassies abroad, and likewise the embassies of other nation's that Cassadia was hosting in turn.

Orlov cleared his throat as he re-aligned his tie.''My people were surprised just as you sir. What I had my department wire to them were standard regulations and procedures governing military-grade firearms used by Foreign Missions security details.''
''THEN WHY THE HELL DID THEY SHIT ON OUR LAWS!'' Joachim screeched, hitting the desk sideways as sheets of document paper flew about before them. Orlov said nothing at this, as he let the Royal Secretary calm down.'' I would like you to reiterate our government's positions on their intent for breaking our law and to RE-STATE, that allowing for their bodyguard force to retain their military weapons IS ILLEGAL.'' Said the well-groomed and proper man.''You got that?''

''As is your bidding sir. Will there be anything else.'' Orlov acknowledged his place in a submissive voice.''Will there be anything else?

''Yes, convey to our esteemed colleagues over in Polish-Prussia, that their scheduled deadline to vacate the properties of the consulate has been pushed forward. They have 24 hours to do so; tell them to take only the valuable electronic equipment and the hard drives of the computer. Have them burn the documents as well -- they can't know of the identities of our sympathetic contacts.'' Said Joachim, all sonorous about the matter addressed.

Looking up to Orlov, the Foreign Secretary clasped his hands with his elbows on the desk.'' Now off with you and back to work!''

The undersecretary obliged, as he turned tail and exited the high-end, pompously furnished office. In the meantime, Joachim reached for the phone as he dialled a number of a man he rarely had the pleasure to speak with.

Baron Punchev Lukov

Code: Select all: EMERGENCY DIPLOMATIC WIRE TO: General Consulate of the Prussian-Polish Commonwealth Sirs, Unfortunately, in regards to your demands, on behalf of Her Majesty's government and honorable institutions, we cannot assent to your rebuke. The procedure in regards to handling military grade firearms by S.Es (Special Entities) is specific and clear-cut when members of S.Es are to handle military-grade firearms as, the legal framework governing such restricted items is wholly different to that which regulate its possessions to certain persons and members of appropriate government bodies. In accordance with the National Firearms Act of 1981, Royal Decree on Gunpowder and Explosives (1581, 1641, 1883, 1927, 2005); Special Entities must transport their military-grade firearm prior to the flight of your Foreign Mission off Cassadian jurisdiction. S.E, may however, retain firearms and other lethal or non-lethal firearms that are capable to be carried discreetly; such as pistols and small calibre sub-machineguns and other defense items like collapsible batons and pepper spray. Transporting these restricted items shall be done with a vehicle of your choosing, prior to transit, a member of the Carthage Constable sub-department for Explosives and Controlled Items, per regulations and protocol, is to inspect them in order to verify their transfer. We, of Her Majesty's Crown-Government further reiterate that your rejection of legal Crown-Government and Royal statutes violates the very principle to the rule-of-law in our country, and it is our demand that you abide by all our provisions. Failure to comply, will force us to curtail the movements of Foregign Missions personnel and diplomatic corps outside Consulate grounds. Signed, Orlov Zaran, Undersecrater of the Department of Overseas and Domestic Foreign Missions

by **Reorganisieren Reichregierung** » Mon Feb 08, 2021 12:50 pm

Im Auftrag auf Seine Kaiserliche und Königliche Majestät, Der Großdeutsches Kaiser

ENCRYPTION: DATA REDACTED

TO HER MAJESTY EMPRESS RELENA I VON PEACEKRAFT OF THE HOLY KINGDOM OF CASSADIA

On behalf of the Greater Germanic Reich of the German Nation, His Imperial and Royal Majesty extends his deepest thanks for Your Majesty's willingness and initiative to restore the ties that bind our great civilization together to our mutual benefit and the gnashing of our enemies' teeth. As we speak, the international stock exchange trembles in fear that the permanent revolution will meet the immovable object that is our iron will, and that any collision will not bring about the Great Reset and the end of history, but the utter and total defeat of unipolarity.

As for the matter at hand, His Imperial and Royal Majesty and the Reorganized Reich Government of the Greater Germanic Reich of the Germanic Nation is more than willing to receive a diplomatic delegation from the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia, especially one headed by a scion of such an illustrious bloodline. We simply ask that you give us notice of when the delegation itself will be dispatched, as His Imperial and Royal Majesty is currently away on an official state summit abroad.

As long as our great nations stand together, neither the pestilential miasma nor the threadbare legions of the Antichrist arising from Gog and Magog will triumph against our revolution against the modern world.

With German regards,

Hans-Günther Graf Schwerin von Krosigk,
Reichsminister des Auswärtigen

On behalf of His Majesty Wilhelm III von Hohenzollern,
Kaiser von Deutschland und König von Preußen
Führer des Großdeutsches Reiches
Führer der Nation
Führer aller Germanen

GROSSGERMANISCHES REICH DER DEUTSCHEN NATION

by **Palmyrion** » Tue Feb 09, 2021 6:20 am

Bistro Ylenia, Trinoma, Quezon City
Aragon, D.C., Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth

Bistro Ylenia was where Park met her ex, then a student in the Palmyrian State Academy of Aeronautics, during a Valentine’s Day Mix-and-Match event held by the Bistro. At the time she was still a cadet in CMA Aragon, and one that had shown great aptitude in computer science and cyberintelligence.

“Usenet era. Was an avid script kiddie who loved breaking into private networks for the fun and thrill of it. Even got into trouble with law enforcement. I used to have a gang of friends with whom I had hacking trysts. When the high school needed someone who can code they called us - the Code Kiddies. Now they’re all working in high-paying, stable careers while I’m in the thankless drudgery of espionage.” Park remarked, reminiscing her teenage days as a teenage hacker and programmer, a historical aspect of her life that fed her interest in cyberespionage.

True Faith and Park leaned on the glass-and-metal railing of a balcony overlooking a major thoroughfare next to the mall, featuring an LRT station and line over a major artery. The traffic used to be much more crowded, dominated in equal proportion by sedans, SUVs, and buses both single and double decked, until COVID-19 had everyone hunkering in their homes as part of pandemic control measures.

"Do you envy them?" Faith asked, looking out at the city below them.

"Sometimes." Park replied. "But me? We do our job for the Royal Commonwealth because we have to. If not me, who?" she added.

“Intelligence work isn’t for everyone, but doubts like that will cloud your efforts. Don’t waste time on the what-if’s, if-only’s and the maybes.” Faith stated, putting out his cigarette and dropping it into a cylinder that quickly disappeared into his pocket, before turning around and looking towards the entrance.

“We cross the line, so that our country may wake up in the morning seeing that line intact.” Park quipped. “By the way, seeing you know my real name and I don’t know yours
yet, mind telling me yours?” she asked.

"Leonid Alyuk. Hardly the most conventional name, I know. But it's mine." Leonid introduced himself, studying her for her response, if she knew the connotations of his last name.

Alyuk...that surname sounds familiar.. Park pondered. “Alyuk. That name rings bells in the intelligence community. Sounds like royalty.” she quipped.

“You know your stuff, Helen. Legally speaking I am a prince, but in Lauzanne it’s little more than just official recognition and you sometimes meet others with the same blood.” Leonid explained, leaning back against the railing.

“I guess I should be addressing you as Your Royal Highness?” Park joked.

“Please don’t, everyone at work already does that.” Faith replied, glancing her way again as he started to reach for another cigarette, pulling one out and offering it to her.
“You’re jumpy. Expecting someone unpleasant?”

Park thought for a bit, then sighed. “Wanna hear a tragic love story?” she asked.

“Sure.” Leonid responded, turning to face Park fully.

“I met this guy Lorenzo Arcilla in the very same bistro we are now.” Park began. “Valentine’s Mix and Match event, we fell for each other like a pile of bricks. It was 2010, I was still a cadet in CMA General Santos, he was a student of aerospace engineering. He was a year older than me.”

“We had…nagka-developan so to say in Palmyrian... and he and I entered a relationship in 2011.” Park added. “Then the red flags started showing up.”

“We usually met with foreigners with thick Slavic accents in exclusive parties. Granted he came from a well-off family but parties this lavish?” Park said, pausing to add a bit of suspense, before saying “Only the wealthiest Palmyrians can hold such parties. That they had thick Slavic accents was a bigger thing.”

Park held back nausea as she recounted nasty sexual experiences with him. “In every one of those parties I attended, I always ended up having sex with him, even if I wasn’t in the mood. I didn’t drink much back then as a social drinker. He treats me with breakfast in bed afterwards everytime that happens.” she added, before pausing to regain her composure, continuing with the story once she regained it.

“I regularly caught him womanising with women in his school, his female schoolmates, and even with senior-aged executives in Martelino as an intern - but always promised that it was just professional “business”, that he was being “practical” with his business dealings.” Park recalled her experiences with Lorenzo’s womanising. “Heck he even went to bed with gay coworkers, schoolmates, and superiors. Not that I have something against LGBT people, having been fighting for LGBT causes before it was fashionable, but cheating is cheating.”

"Sounds like a charming individual." Leonid remarked dryly as he lit up another cigarette.

“Then comes the honeymoon stage. Guy asked me to go out on an all-expense-paid cruise. Shagged each other hard during that night. Was still taking my master’s in Ateneo de Aragon. And that, honestly, was the last time I gave him another chance.”

“Things went to a head when I got deployed to Mindanao during the Reunion War, just a few hours ride from my home in General Santos. Oh, que horror, all the womanising in the world. Do you know how I got informed? By his freaking parents sending me letters!”

“I did the next best thing to dying, and that was to break it off with him. No more cheating, no more drama. I’m fucking tired. Now talk of the town is that he is a GRB coddler, a middleman for GRB assets in the country.”

"Interesting talk of the town."

“That probably explains why Cassadia has stuff that looks like our planes, heck even working prototypes of variable cycle jets engines.”
"There's many reasons why Cassadia would have variable cycle engines and similar planes to yours. Elegia has told me some things about aircraft design and convergent evolution is one of them. Even the Groza looks similar to some aircraft." Leonid commented, blowing smoke out over the balcony.

"Being someone who had previous..."affairs" with this guy CID and Martelino got me to investigate this guy. Turns out, there's more to him than I expected."

Leonid stopped, looking over at Park with a serious look on his face.
"... They got you to investigate your ex-partner?"

“Yep.” Park replied. "How'd he afford the tuition fees of studying in our premier aerospace engineering academy, the Palmyrian State College of Aeronautics? GRB money. How'd he climb up the corporate ladder? GRB bribery. And now Martelino wants me to look into these things." she added, exasperatingly. "All that to install an engineer and insider in one of our largest aerospace companies. Fuck, I dated and shagged a GRB asset for all I know." Park lamented.

"Helen, you said yourself that he was upper-class, and considering he seemingly scored with high marks to get scoped out for the top aerospace company, money can't make up for that. As for climbing the corporate ladder, you said it yourself; he slept around. How can I know you're not making this up to implicate him, as a jilted ex-lover?"

“There is a difference between upper-class, and so suspiciously rich you throw lavish parties every weekend or so and meet up with underworld elements. Oh, and turns out his cheating is just him trying to gain access to some corporate secrets and rocket up the corporate ladder by literally getting into bed with men and women alike. That he gets pussy more than I get dick is gravy on the chicken for him.”

“I’ve had almost two years worth of a dossier on this guy starting from January 2019. I’d bet you’d want a serious look on them.”

"Yes I would, but know that i'm not going to play relationship counselor for you.”

“I am not expecting one. The relationship part is over, and done with. The dumpster fire is already disposed of." Park replied. “But corporate espionage in the name of a country that’s basically a pariah sanctioned and embargoed to the hilt and yet isn’t Stone Age dirt poor? That is something else.” she added.

"They do under the table dealings and with an internal economy like that they can still indigenously develop weapons. But i don't believe you. You dated him for years, and not even a year after breaking up with him you're investigating him as a spy committing espionage at best, treason at worst."

“Just when I thought I was done with the geezer, CID and Martelino came in waltzing with an order for me to investigate him. That’s...how I got into this.”

"Bad business, involving ex-lovers in an investigation."

“Him being my ex is... cruel serendipity.” Park said. “But I guess me being his ex is why CID and Martelino specifically picked me to do the investigation work.” she quipped in addition.

Leonid simply shook his head. He seemed… disappointed.

Park, noticing the disappointed look on his face, said: “Well you and I can ask the CID and Martelino on why they picked me.” She followed it with “All I know is that they just asked me to investigate this guy, notwithstanding the fact that he’s my ex.”

"I'm not going to question your superiors. It is not my place to do so." Leonid stated. “But I do know that involving feelings into delicate matters such as these is bad news for all involved.”

“I’m keeping my personal grudges out of this. That he’s my ex and I was assigned to investigate my ex by my superiors is just cruel serendipity.” Park replied.

Leonid looked down at the palm of his hand. His face didn’t show much, but it was clear he was pensive.
“Personal grudges... “
His hands looked relatively normal for someone of his age, with all the tell-tale hardening of hands that comes with weapons handling, but Leonid’s was more… Unusual. Thorough. If one squinted, they could even see faint surgical marks: Holes, incisions and other types of scarring that were simply not normal.
“Personal grudges will always come through, no matter how hard you try.” Leonid then looked to Park.
“But business can happen tomorrow.”

And just like that, his phone rang.
“Shit.”
He drew the phone out, tapping ‘answer’ and putting it to his ear
“Yes? Director? Okay, what do you need? You’re asking me to go to Cassadia?”
Park could see Leonid get especially serious at the reply to that particular question.
“Why don’t you send Blue Monday? I see. And you need me at the pickup? Alright.”
With that, he hung up, the tall man readying himself.
“We need to get to San Ramon AFB in about thirty minutes, I’m being deployed to Cassadia.”

“Alrighty then, want a farewell treat to take with you?” Park asked, looking at the pastries displayed at the bistro food stall.
“I’ll take one of the danishes, then.” Faith replied, sizing them up.

“Nice.” Park said. “While you’re gone, I might as well make a copy of the files I have on this Mr. Arcilla, get you to have a look on them.” she added.

“You can also get Elegia to interview the airport guards and comb the airport footage of their arrival. She’ll know what to do.”

“Granted. Now, let’s get you to San Ramon.” Park replied. “I guess they need you quick.” she added.

“There’s an upcoming stand-off regarding diplomats and they need a ‘royal’ there to witness the goings on. No other Alyuks or Alyukas are anywhere near as high on the chain as me.”

“Sounds fun to me. Let’s get this done with.” Park said.

Leonid quickly walked indoors, quickly ordering and paying for a danish. As soon as it was in the paper bag, Leonid was headed towards the door.

They went to the parking lot, where their M5 was parked. Park started up the M5 once she and True Faith were in the car, immediately driving fast to San Ramon AFB.

“San Ramon AFB, this is Park, request permission to send traffic, over.” Park radioed San Ramon AFB to get their attention and notify them that she was going over.

“Park, this is San Ramon, roger that, send traffic over.”
“Our package needs to depart immediately from San Ramon. I am taking him there. Callsign “True Faith”.”
A pause dominated the air, as the radio controllers back in San Ramon checked with their HVI list for True Faith, before replying. “Roger that, HVI callsign True Faith will be given authority to enter the AFB for authorised purposes. San Ramon out.” the radio controller replied and ended the conversation.

by **McNernia** » Wed Feb 10, 2021 9:27 am

”Always on Guard, Ready for All”
Sea Services Motto

Cathcride-Archinia
Admiralty Plaza

“My wife could give birth soon.” The Navy man said staring at the river. The sight of the pleasure crusies out at reduced capacity showing that Archinian was remaining viligilant in the COVID fight was a heartwarming thing. There had been times when plague had ripped through the ships of the line at Anchor and the frigates that were at the distant stations of the Empire. The Admiral now was in charge of the Task force of the Century. Task Force Morrigan which would bring an end either with the aid of the Palmyrion and the Visyans or without them. Or if they Fell, (G-D Forbid it) there would be a solo operation to bring down the Cassidians.

An audacious one to be sure but if it could be pulled off it would involve the Archinians.

The two men were a very odd pair, one was old easily a Grandfather and another was younger but about to be a dad. Devoted to his career as a flag officer but due to his aristocratic upbringing he had been able to get ahead. And yet he had proven himself. Even when the elected officials had been inclined to be inept and then blame the uniforms there was his royal Name. Now he was easily a popular royal with the troops. And there had been some messages from the recently returned leftists. Namely offers of a post in the upper echelons of the Admiralty. The people were happy that theyd been saved from authoritarianism.

“I don’t want you dead Stephen I would have you have a campaign under your belt before you get a promotion to the upper echelons of the Navy.” Stephen nodded, he’d heard the talk from his mentor before. “You know id take it but the fact is Anna is going to give birth one day sooner rather than later and the fact is id not be half way around the World battling some old men who follow a Brat.”

“The Cassidians are a formidable adversary. Cassidia makes money by sending resources to all comers.” “I understand that Sir but the fact is all parties tend to have the bomb, as In plate Glass an entire area.”

“Rest well assured we have enough to make Cassidia think twice about throwing the weight around.”

“So you want a war sir?”

“Make no mistake I treasure life but if it comes down to it id like to see a Task force on Cassidian soil and I can think of no other man or woman alive to lead us then you. With your man Artur as Chief of Fleet Ops youll be able to take the bastards out… show them a True Imperial Navy. And perhaps the new Assembly would declare you the Hier to the throne…”

Admiral Sir Stephen James Theodorus MacInamara looked at the man who was his superior officer. The High Admiral in command of the Royal Navy. “You could make Grand Admiral Stephen.” “I suppose my wife would understand, protecting the next Generation from a Tyrant and all that…might have the excuse to go after Europe.”
“I think the Prime Minister has been looking for an excuse for the longest time.

Prime Ministers Private Offices
Prime Ministers Residence
Of all the things that Albert Shapter despised it was the Ideology of National Socialism. His family had come from Europe and the deaths of many who were his Co Regligionists had perished at their hands. And the expression of wanting to do something from berlin and the silence of Brussels was concerning to say the least. The urge to drop bombs of the radioactive variety and earn some good graces from those who were waiting in quarantine as a WA Inspection team took custody of the armaments. Which would of course be turned over to the Archinian Military. And…..who knows..

Sitting in his well appointed private office which was used for the innermost thoughts of the Prime Minister. A sanctum of sorts built by the predecessors. The outer lounges used for meetings and for discussions with the Cabinet and then the press conferences. The inner sanctum was hwere he would be meeting such things as the Whips and the ministers who were in his bad graces. Or his good graces. Anway he needed to make a decision. Tap the cables of the Cassidians or not. Embassies had arrived in Vasaya and also in the court of Elizabeth the Commoner. Any day now there would be summit. Archinia had the Naval power to handle a lot of threats. It was almost intoxicating. He signed the authorization to dispatch a spy sub. And took a sip and turned to the picture on his computer. A propaganda poster of Relena. “Heres to your downfall my dear False Empress.” He took a drink of water. And smiled. Bibi was concerning but bailing his rear out was a good thing. First things first.

[i]OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUE OF THE KINGDOM OF ARCHINIA
OFFICE OF THE PRIME MINISTER OF THE KINGDOM OF ARCHINIA
HM GOVERNMENT

From:The Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Archinia
To:The Office of the Chancellor of the Royal Commonwealth of Palmyrion
Cc:The Office of the Foreign Secretary of the Confederation of the New Visyan Islands
Sec:SECRET-URGENT-SECRET
Sub: Coordination of Operations

Greetings
HM Government of the Kingdom of Archinia greets the Confederation of the New Visyan Islands and the Royal Commonwealth of Palmyrion as fellow signatories to the Amistad pact which obliges nations to engage in conflict against Slavery which is a plague upon the Human Race. Therefore HM government in furtherance of the Amistad objective duly requests a meeting with the relevant counterparts in the Governments of the Confederation and Royal Commonwealth so that we might come to some accord and common understanding of what is needed for the future in terms of bringing down Cassidia and those allied with them.
Signed
A. Shapter Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Archinia

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Thu Feb 11, 2021 12:09 pm

No less than 3 separate replies arrived at the Cassadians' doorsteps.

SIGINT STATION/RELAY STATION 5, SIGNAL INTELLIGENCE BRIGADE, 5TH DIVISON(WARSAW)

THE PRUSSIAN-POLISH CROWN AND MINISTRY OF WAR LEGAL CORPS WOULD LIKE TO REMIND THE CASSADIAN GOVERNMENT THAT "ASSAULT WEAPON" IS A MEANINGLESS AMERICAN BUZZWORD WITHOUT A CONSISTENT AND FORMAL LEGAL DEFINITION. AS SUCH YOUR REQUEST IS CONSIDERED MOOT.

FURTHERMORE, LEX INIUSTA NON EST LEX.

END MESSAGE.

Carthage Consulate Relay Station

Understood and copied. Will transport all M249s and G3s via a separate vehicle in a seperate. Galils were lost in a boating accident, though.

End.

Offical Communication from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs

Understood. Best wishes to Her Majesty, her government, and the Cassadian people, and may the end of the war bring better fortunes for us all. You have our assurance that we will use all of our resources to prevent our staff from conducting rash or misguided acts as we leave. We have several men of impeccable integrity and duty that will contact Carthage Law Enforcement in case anything illegal occurs.

Carthage Embassy
"We will use all of our resources to prevent our staff from conducting rash or misguided acts as we leave."

Unfortunately, the wishes of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs didn't mean a rat's shit to the embassy staff. Most of them, anyway. The G3s and M249s were stowed in a separate van, as requested...and MP5s with overpressured ammunition, P90s, and spare Galils promptly handed out like candy and carried underneath heavy coats and in bags. The staff would be divided into two convoys and the van, and no group knew the other's route, nor which one had Bell. This was all intended to confuse whatever moles that the MFA may have planted with the staff, if they were there.

Francis hoped to heaven that there weren't any. Or that they had decided to flip. Bell was dear to him and his wife, as well as the men under him. But alas; no point worrying about what was beyond their control.
Thurn, for his part, was fidgeting. "Damn it!" he muttered. "Man, today was a bad day to eat heavy."

"Told you so." Francis grunted. "Not too late to take a shit, you know. We might be held up and I'm not sure you want to do your business in front of some bobby, eh?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Thurn groaned. "I'm gonna go shi-"
Francis suddenly clapped his hand over Thurn's mouth, as Bell rounded the corner. She looked curiously at the sight, tilting her head slightly. "Papa, why are you putting your hand over Uncle Thurn's mouth?"

Jan dropped his hand. "Uncle Thurn was going to say a bad word." he replied. Thurn nodded in agreement.

Bell laughed. "Which one are we talking about here?"

"Sh-" Francis was about to say, before Thurn clapped his hand over Francis' mouth. "Nice try." he replied. "But shouldn't you be packing?"
"Well, all the ammunition's been loaded, the armory's cleared out and the charges set to blow, I've brought my clothes already and packed the PS2, so..."
Francis wrenched Thurn's hand off his mouth. "Good job, kiddo." he replied, smiling at his daughter. "You ready to fly?"

Bell seemed to think for a little. "It's...a little scary." she admitted. "But it'll work, yeah?"
"Och, aye. I've gone over the principles of flight with you already, yes?"
"...no?"
Francis seemed a little nonplussed. "...ah. No matter! I'll explain it to you on the way there."
A new voice butted into the conversation. "Speaking of on the way there..." Jan Godwinsson began. "Bell, Francis. Get ready. We're about to leave.

As the embassy finished packing up and began to board their vehicles, a small knot of people, perhaps three or four, shared looks. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs had ordered them to contact local law enforcement if any operation went forward with regards to Bell. Their reasons varied; high honors or position, bureaucratic loyalty, fear of punishment if found by the Cassadians. Their job, however, was simple, although not easy by any means; tell the Cassadians they were leaving, and then pressure their compatriots to give up Bell.

A call would reach the local Cassadian law enforcement agency. Bell was leaving the embassy with the diplomats, although on which vehicle and convoy, it was not known.

by **Qassadia** » Thu Feb 11, 2021 3:29 pm

Below The Waves
Sometime After The Assassination

The dead silence of the canteen was overwhelming, the effects of having to experience submarine life, now into what Anatolyi had counted was coming to be the eighth of this odyssey of a journey. He was numb to this notion, when compared to his other ''batmen'' comrades, some of which cursed silently how they could not stand an hour more in these kinds of claustrophobic conditions that to them seemed to be getting into their heads. Despite this type of submarine being far more spacious than others of similar calibre and role. Surely the mini-gym that comprised several treadmills, weightlifting kits, and pedal-bikes that were made available, was more than enough to be a distraction for him and his comrades, with the submarine crew being more than generous in conceding them this space for themselves to have the GRB ''batmen'' maintain physical shape.

Currently, though, Anatoliy was more preoccupied with himself, those being self-reflection; of what constituted an act of murder, and what was a duty to Crown and country - and what constituted a cold-blooded murder. Surely those who had served longer in what was Cassadia's most prestigious institution that was the envy of nobles could elaborate to him in a way that Anatolyi could still be able to console his own conscience, that what he did was the right choice to make.

Anatoliy was not in the mood for a morale lecture, however. His one solace was in the current state of solitude, the canteen thankfully being devoid of life allowed for the relatively young man the luxury of exploring this moral dilemma that was presented to him in the middle of the operation.

Good soldiers follow orders.

I am an officer of the General Reconnaissance Bureau goddammit! I am better than this.

These thoughts had been haunting him the moment he saw those two kids get into the car with that dyke whore. Sure, that traitor, that judge who betrayed the Holy Kingdom so she could...

'' Is your table taken dragoi?'' A voice suddenly came out from somewhere to his side. Anatoliy turned to his right to see the boarish Shamil standing uptight across the table bench, his stature shadowing over him in a way that would have been intimidating to the average person had it been not his superior's fatherly and concerned expression that was written all over.

'' Not really, come sit down if you like.'' The newly inducted officer replied, his voice steeped in apathy and an empty stare that returned to continue looking at the fork that moved up and around with the food in his plastic plate, consisting of two contents of baked beans and sweet corn.

''Thanks, man.'' Shamil gratefully said as he sat down opposite of him. Anatoliy remained silent. Shamil did the same as he began to work on his own plate, taking up small but consistent, fast bites as he quickly emptied his own plate off its sustenance and down his system, washing it down with water as he finished his meal. Standing up and towards the canteen counter to return the dishware to the cook. Saying,'' Thanks for the great treat.'' before he returned to the table, surprising the thirty-something man with this.

Shamil went back to where he previously sat, resting his veiny arms on the table and clasping his palms together all the while staring at the trouble young man who tried his best to avoid eye contact with him.

'' I understand the doubt, the hesitation -- the feeling of some voice telling you at the back of your mind, telling you to hesitate, to NOT do it.'' Shamil, himself a veteran of the service muttered to him in a low-key voice.'' This proverbial wall against killing people is a powerful barrier indeed, something that thankfully most people have.'' The GRB veteran inclined as he leaned forward to rest a hand on his should.'' But there will always be people who will aim to bring our country down, if not by force of arms, then by stealth of spreading subversive, satanic conventions and ideas masquerading as ideologies that would supposedly advance and improve the human condition, yet have proved time and time again to be nothing but cancerous and corrosive to any civilization that has adopted their ideas; be it feminism, communism, mob rule or anything else that would weaken the moral and spiritual foundation of Christian civilization.''

''And killing children is the way to defend this ''civilization''? The young man said, to which Shamil's mouth went a little agape, but returned to his ever-neutral expression, sighting before he spun around the table bench, with his back facing Anatoliy.

''You know something Anatolyi; our job will from time to time make us do these kinds of actions -- yes. Our enemies do not have boundaries which they are NOT willing to quote, and in turn neither should we.'' Shamil said, with a tone of genuine sincerity,'' because it would be better if only us, from the *Bureau* are to be judged by the Lord Almighty than to have him come after our whole country if we are to let our pure and holy Kingdom be allowed to fall into the kind of hedonistic, debaucheries and conventions that have gripped most other countries throughout the world.'' Nurgaliyev added, ending his little speech on a positive note. Anatoliy was a religious man, after all, he would have understood the point from where a man like Shamil was coming from.

Anatoliy would say nothing for a while, as he continued to pick through his food with his fork, remaining silent, before saying,'' I think you're right Shamil, we spooks are not normal people, and neither should we think of ourselves as one that is anything different, but trained killers...

''Who must maintain, stone-cold composure throughout an assignment until completion of the task as given to us by our superiors...Indeed.'' Interjected Shamil, looking up at the ceiling, a slight smile forming on his lips.

''Glad you are still in the game my friend -- Anyways, I just got word from the Admiral; we'll be back home in a little over three days. The sub will dock in Tengrigorod.'' Shamil said the breaking of such news made Anatolyi clench a fist in triumph, setting about a jolly mood for a disposition.

''Finally some good news for once!'' Anatoliy cried out in an unadulterated burst of joy, banging his fist into the metal table that shook the metal thin pad on which were placed the dishware and food.

''Awesome, anyways -- wanna hit the gym again? I'd like the team to be in shape, and I need to tighten the skin I got from the dad bud which those Palmyrion diarrhoea-making shit got me into.'' Shamil asked, up-beat.

''I'm more than up for it. Glad that our sailor comrades were so kind to rent us their Temple of Iron to us for the duration of the voyage.''

''Indeed.'' Shamil admitted, as both got up from the table and exited out of the canted, walking through the rather tall, but still claustrophobic halls that connected the different parts of the Los Angeles-class underwater ''boat''.

by **McNernia** » Thu Feb 11, 2021 10:25 pm

Cathcride, Archinia
The Summer Palace

The King had gone into Quarantine as the Pandemic had wound on and on over months. The swift action to stop the spread had been due to a good relationship with Taiwan and yet the Chinese had desired to court the Dienstadis. Now on the outer Edge of Dienstad the Archinians were in the initial stages of mobilizing for the campaign of the century. A full on conventional war was brewing. A Tyrant had to fall, if it came to it, Eamon IV would sign the order. While Amistad was explicit and the Kingdom of Archinia with the ratification of the Treaty was at war already and a strike on the Cassidians could be executed with a flick of the pen from the Cabinet. People wanted formality.

In Quarantine the King lived in the lap of luxury riding in the summer palace grounds and and going out rarely. Wearing a mask and opening a charity for the less fortunate. Having an ancient fortune was definitely a plus and the King had constitutional obligations. Legislation was brought to him daily and he duly gave his assent. And yet he had been able to convince the PM that austerity was a bad move. Welfare on the Bismarckian model was a good idea and well the King was to keep the people safe and govern well. So the King of Archinia had done a duty which had been enshrined in the constitution overseeing the government. Not making laws but ruling it was said all the same.

Then again that was the whole issue of the Constitution had yet to be settled. People had called for more than the code of Laws which had endured and been amended for the last 1500 years at least and the Parliament with hereditary families that had been independent of the party. Independents people had called for merely the Provincial Lieutenants to be the upper house. Then again the Assembly had been purged.
Looking at the letters from the members awaiting quartine clearance, the people he had pardoned he wondered what they would do. The issue of drawing close to the Santiago Alliance had made it inevitable. Ever since 83 when the Nifonese had thrown out the big interests and sought to retake the Kaisongs. A declaration of war to be certain. Then again Kojiro had been rational. The Generals had wanted absoloutism and the King had not been involved in that. He wondered what the Socialists would do. Call for his execution ?….people were demanding accountability. This was going to get nasty. Now of course a Extraregional power had the audacity to target those under the protection of the Crowns of Dienstad.

Sitting in the empty throne room of the summer palace. The King stared at the portraits on the wall. His ancestors, men in armor and Green, silver, red uniforms. And purple suits were there a few women. He was there, his sister was there and soon his daughter would be there. Rain beat down on the roof and the thoughts turned to his son…Cornellia was quiet as could be though the Revoloution was being crushed in Edom. He regretted it. He would though be reminded of his duty as he felt his fathers eyes on him. From that portrait. Clad in the uniform of the Admiral of the Fleet and looking at the viewer with a calm and challenging gaze.
“I know father, I will do what I must to protect the people with what powers I have.”

One could almost hear the You had better boy.

Western Archinia
Naval Shipyards- HMNB DunCoiron
The Admiral looked at the ships that were being checked over, the big transports were very much a stirring sight as each could deliver a full Mechanized battalion at least to the hostile shores. The Cassidians were a Tyrannical nation and they would be brought down. The Kingdom of Archinia would be the one to do it alone if it had to. The lines would be long and mustering the fleet would be a thing to take time. Already ships were on the move since the nuclear detonation as this would not be tolerated. Stephen MacInAmara looked over the ships. Large blocky grey hulls made to carry the works of the Archinian Army to the front lines of the future conflict. An intervention in America could be on the cards. So the active Army would have its hands full. If the Yankees required a bail out. But well the reserves took time to call up. The Dienstad sitituation had been quiet for a while.

“Can we really do it?” Admiral MacInamara turned to his Ops commander. Artur Folass felt the three marks of a Vice Admiral on his shoulders. Heavy and terrible with purpose. Mastery of a battle fleet was a big plus in a potential political career.

Artur Folass had no intention of entering politics any time soon. He would serve as perhaps deputy governor of Cassidia. The Cabinet had decided that the Empress would be removed if the order came down. Preparations for the expedition on the Marine side were well under way. Looking from the Balcony of the Commandants residence one could see that the fleet was being assembled. Here and at other bases. Folass nodded. “The cost will be heavy and it may not even be necessary…the whole invasion issue…it’s a long distance across the Pacific to the target….”

Admiral MacInamara sat casually by the window just inside the sliding doors of the balcony. The two men had travelled together from the capitol to this base on the Western edge of the Kingdom and the two men had gone to oversee the preparations. They were still in the opening stages. His dark eyes bore into the blue of his Ops chief the two men were similar, fair skin and black hair. “The Prime Minister wants a survey of the region….” He stared at the glass of soda water in his hand, there would be a time for whisky and chamapange. When the Tyranny had fallen.
“I understand Admiral. I signed off on it myself.”

HM Survey Vessel SV-7821
Interregional/World Northern ocean
The eighty meter long vessel droned through the ocean heading for the next point, the vast distances could be surmounted by a whole lot of vessels. They had taken on the task of being in the survey area and they would do what they had to do. The task was to scout out the Cassidian defenses and ensure that the submarines could slip in and out. The big ocean survey ship headed for the target. The capitan checking the orders once and then twice. Survallience was the order of the day looking about the region. A tender would be behind them an AOEN keeping a look out. The Navy was moving on the region. One knew that the submarine service was easily not far behind.

HM Submarine Tender
TA-781
Flagship of Attack Squadron 10
N.W Archinian Ocean
The big grey hauler was very much on alert, a nuclear powered milch cow launched in the 1990s she was a good ship for the big ballistic missile submarine fleet. Of course she could also supply the attack submarines and she was assigned to the 10th now as they were transiting south to the deployment. Nominally in the north going over the Pole to other regions they would have to head south past the Pacific and fukuran seas to Krillin and then they would have to fight. A quarantine action of bringing down the Cassidians. Whittle away the Navy. The Rear Admiral in command of the Division assigned to the task looked at the black shapes pulling along side for among other things mail as submarines sometimes struggled to get internet. Food was key and the big ships were built to operate for long periods with relatively minimal crew. Long patrols away from family and friends wore on morale. But the whole Navy had been ordered into quartine and the submarines had been out of port during the Pandemic, the 10th had been running patrols along the artic and occasionally snopping on the various polar bases of among other nations the Russians.

But this was different, the recall order had been given and the 10th was heading south to meet the Admiralty. They would have the honor of potentially firing the first shots of the war., Wiether it was missiles onto a port or sending slavers to the bottom of the ocean. Most likely to the Commander the fine and dandy ports of Allbrazil or the convoys that were coming from there to the Cassidian Homeland. Now it was a Grand mustering.

Army Training Grounds, Northern Plains, (ATG Northern Plains) Precise Location Non Specific/Classified,
Somewhere in the Gaeldetia Region
104th Armored Division

The tanks rumbled across the plain, an armored division was a sight to behold and since the Cold war the old Corps and Army HQs had been kept nominally as the ground for the young and ambitious staff officers before they stepped into the Politicial arena. But many found the Green-Silver and Black a vocation. Earning medals and glory and the promotions to a Marshalship. Now the Army was preparing for a campaign. In the Northern reaches of the Kingdom there was the armies sprawling training ranges. Rushing across the Taiga and the plains where the tanks now droned the turrets taking in the landscape. It was one of the routine exercises. Drive a course, fire at the targets. Some wondered if they would see family as the 104th was normally based in the south there was the need for the division to keep qualifactions. The crisis on the edge of the world namely some tyrant calling herself empress was a problem. Assaulting a Dienstadi Crowns protectees was definitely a problem. An insult to one was an insult to all. There was only one King of Kings. Christ or God if you were a Jew Or Muslim.

The men and women of the 104th Armored division had gone to the lands between Gholgoth and Rostil on Exercise now they were preparing for the sacred test of all warriors. Combat.

Assembly Buildings
House of Assembly-Cathcride, Archinia
The debate was a mostly party thing, as Shapter sat in the benches and there was the rest gathered around the benches which were arranged in a roughly circular pattern. The traditions of the past were reborn under Social Liberalism and they were duly brought forth to this conservatively minded time. The Prime Minister had been called before the House as was the House’s right;. The House of Assembly made the laws of the land and passed it on to the House of Peers for Assent and anything that came down from the ones who were in theory a vestige of an earlier time but since the 2014 coup there was the whole issue of wealth. Dion Fergus was very much a militant leader. A small minority of idealists who among other things favored an end to Amsitad involvement. But the WA had been offering all kinds of things. Namely making the Army happy with the Peacekeeping missions though those had become the domain of PMCs on contract to the Government.

“Mr Speaker May I remind members present that this government has taken the steps to reintegrate the rebels into the country. We will take steps to stand up for our Interests in our relations with more conservative states. When it comes to that…” Then the issue of Amistad came up. “The previous Liberally minded Governments has maintained the issue of our membership but I admit the Pact is for the most part dead.” Some whispers of concern from the opposition filled benches. The Prime Minister smiled. “I look forward to improving our relations with Palmyrion and the Visyan Confederacy in the forthcoming campaign.”
Fergus though raised the spectre of the Cornellian adventurism.

"I vow that we have taken the Terpischore, Damoclea and the San Carlos episode into account."

by **McNernia** » Fri Feb 12, 2021 8:05 am

Prime Ministers Offices
Cathcride-Archinia

“The Palmyrion Ambassador, Somido is Holding on Vid Line One Mr Prime Minister.” One of the numerous secretaries, the Civil servants that kept the PMs office running was a common sight, poking heads into the outer offices to alert the PM to things that he was not aware of. Albert Shapter though was aware of Ambassador Somido ringing his video phone line as he was working on the most recent dispatch. He put that aside, straightened his tie and smiled as he activated the Computer. “Ambassador SOmido, this is a welcome surprise. May I ask what exactly this about? ” He left out the part about his communiques not getting a response.

by **Marquesan** » Sat Feb 13, 2021 8:31 am

In Polar Orbit, 800 Km over Gaeldetia.

Hanging like sunlit baubles suspended over the great World Ocean, a constellation of Marquesan observation satellites swept northward, toward the pole over the endless expanse of salt water. Plotting the same archipelagos and deep swaths of open water as always, the satellite formation passed over the Archinian Army's training grounds, capturing clear images of the Archinian Army on wargames. At the same time, the same constellation caught images at the edge of their sweep of a massive nuclear-powered submarine tender in the deep waters of the Northwest Archinian Ocean, and an Auxiliary by itself in the Northern Ocean. Relaying the movements to the Marquesan Intelligence Command in Gholgoth took only moments, the constellation continuing over the frozen far north, orbiting the planet once every three hours.

Itowani Umenohana Intelligence College,
Yotsu Oni Kashiwa Grande École Militaire
City of Rae Baeli, Darjeeling Prefecture,
Union of Marquesan States, Gholgoth

Polished black boots struck sharply against the porcelain-tiled floor of a gallery of offices for college staff members, looking out onto a snow-covered courtyard. The three hundred year old fortress of Yotsu Oni Kashiwa, long since changed from a fortress to the headquarters of the Marquesan intelligence service, Le Fleur Noir was formed as a six pointed star, its classrooms, conference rooms and offices converted from the barracks and magazines of the ancient fortress. Sergent Mazarin ran past open and closed office doors on the right side, clutching a red-colored dossier labeled **CLASSIFIED INTELLIGENCE** under his arm, his eyes focused on an oak double door at the end of a long, jagged hallway following the pointed walls of thick, quarried limestone. To his left, a long row of floor-to-ceiling windows looked out to the snow-covered interior yard, lined with trees and pavilions, obstacle courses and training equipment, but Mazarin wasn't looking at the icicles glittering in the clear, cold winter morning. As he passed row after row of quiet offices, people working looked up briefly as he ran past at nearly full-tilt, his black uniform with red insignia still dusted with snow from outside.

As he finally reached the double door at the end of the hallway labeled COMMANDANT SUPERIEUR'S OFFICE, he spiked the door with his left palm, causing the door to fly open, startling the young, round-faced brunette sitting behind the reception desk. The room was beautifully appointed and immaculately clean; a herringbone carpet in white and grey with green and gold wallpapered walls and oversized floor-to-ceiling windows. "D-do you have an appointment, Sergent?"

"No, no ma'am, I..." Mazarin gulped in air for a moment, catching his breath and adjusting his uniform. "I have to see Commandant Vieux right away, it's urgent."

She looked up at Mazarin's flushed face, down to the dossier, and nodded, pressing a button on her desk. A microphone near her keyboard clicked to life, a small green light flicking on to let her know the intercom line was open.

"Commandant Vieux, there is an urgent relay waiting to enter."

From the other side of the line, shuffling papers were heard, and then a simple "Send him in."

His secretary nodded to the young Sergent, and behind her, a beautiful burled maple door made a buzzing sound as its electric lock disengaged. Sergent Mazarin caught his breath and adjusted his uniform once more before stepping through the door, standing arrow-straight. Entering the room, he made two sharp turns to line up with Commandant Superieur Vieux's desk, clicking his feet together and rendering a crisp salute with his right palm open.

"Commandant, these images just came from long range GEOSATS over Gaeldetia." He offered the dossier to Vieux, who leaned forward to grasp the file over the massive swath of rosewood he used as a desk. Vieux used his letter opener to slice through the red and white striped tape sealing the dossier. As it opened, the images slid out onto his desk, printed in color and very clearly showing the Archinian military movements.

"Sir, we think these can be nothing except for--"

Vieux interrupted him as he studied the images. "Archinian Army and Navy on the move. This has to be about Cassadia." Vieux nodded, and Mazarin stayed silent.

"Very well, Sergent, thank you for carrying this quickly. Time is of the essence." Vieux gestured toward one of the chairs opposite his, and Mazarin sat. Vieux wasted no time in picking up his telephone.

"Get me High Command, in Nuku Hiva. The Spire Chamber, please."

by **Qassadia** » Sat Feb 13, 2021 10:06 am

GRB Headquarters Building

The Director was a patient woman. Hafez Nonette would have not otherwise attained one of several most senior posts that were privileged with power, both legal and otherwise that was second almost to the Empress herself. The path that led her to rise through the ranks was an arduous one, especially having to navigate an almost exclusive environment of the halls of power dominated by the Stronger Sex, be it in the corridors of the respective offices of the Department of Public Security or the Department of Defense.

Hafez Nonnette had come a long way indeed, having had her story begin in the most unlikely of places, that would bring her back to the dusty streets of a town in what was the fledgeling territory of New Carthage after the Cassadians had conquered her birth country. Truly Hafez's adolescence was of a most peculiar kind, having been adopted by a man who held the profession that she, Hafez Nonnette would apply and pass to hold down, in a way that her father could never imagine.

Hafez Nonnete, adopted daughter to the man who led the agency before her, was a woman of middle age, brunette haired, brown-skinned with a voluptuous and athletic physique stemming from long and honourable service in the Royal Land Force as a ‘’precision marksman’’, later enrolling in the elite and highly-selective Sniper School of the Royal Marine Corp with the hopes of serving as a Scout Sniper, passing the intense physical and mental endurance training course. Further information was hard to come by, but from what he knew Hafez was in some kind of a SOF detachment tasked with conducting cross-border reconnaissance missions into Parnello, to monitor the activities and movements of ISEA and its high-ranking HVTs. Further than that, things started to get muddy as anything beyond the fact that Nonnete was later recruited into the GRB after around a dozen high-risk missions along the border with Parnello and New Carthage - was highly classified.

All in all; Hafez Nonnete was a nice, an intelligent woman, unapproachable and elusive as the bureau's OpSec regulations demanded of its members. If one knew how to be on her right side that is. Hafez wore an officers uniform of the GRB, a raven-black officer uniform consisting of a peaked officer’s cap, trousers with white double stripes and a tunic coat on which on the left breast pocket upon which were pinned a modest quantity ‘’fruit salad’’ of the Nonnete's most important service ribbons and medals.

To raise through the ranks of the General Reconnaissance Bureau after completing one of the organization's most high-stake assignments that it ever had, with the search of Hamza al-Barnani, the terrorist leader of Hizb Al-Shahid whose operatives seized control of several planes which they flew into the Krillin Trade Center, the Royal Palace and the General Staff Headquarters of Cassadia's military. So was the manhunt for Petr Zaytsev, one of the last great counter-terrorism operations against what was left the once elusive and dangerous Abolitionist Army.

Hafez did not need to recall her role in both of these important milestones, in that ever-lasting fight to keep the Crown, and in turn the country safe. The Director had no regrets, all those decisions she had to take that cost her a piece of herself every time, or cutting her teeth further in qualifying further up in the food chain of the General Reconnaissance Bureau.

She looked at her watch, as she laid back against the cushy chair. The seal of the organization's logo, the bat, inscribed masterfully behind the clock's pointers as it showed the time, half-past midnight, still ticking without any hindrance, neither to its gears and other moving parts that made it still move, even after all these years. It was a piece of masterful craftsmanship, something made to truly last.

Suddenly the landline phone on her desk rang up, this made the Director spring into action as she snapped the phone off its holding pad.

'' Yes...'' Hafez Nonnete began, before the words of whoever it was, instinctively made her stop whatever she had in mind to say further. Thus the Director to the words of whoever it was on the other end of the line.'' It shall be done as you command Your Majesty, I'll have the Second Directorate to initiate appropriate mechanisms to resolve the issue of our uninvited guests from South Reinkalistan.'' Said the tanned woman,'' That would be correct Your Majesty, I will have a Special Purpose Team on the main group, as soon as possible. I have had counter-intelligence assets track these individuals as soon as they entered the country -- a lightning approach to apprehending them would be most recommended....as is your will Your Majesty, I'll have the Second Directorate mobilize assets in Carthage, Etropole and Pavelburg.''

With that, the Directorate of the General Reconnaissance Bureau put down the phone, returning it into its holding pad, before standing up and swaying her hips as the respectable woman leisurely strolled over to the window of her office that overlooked the sprawling sight of Carthage.

3:02 AM
Carthage, New Ring District

Street lights switched on, their luminous lights gleaming through the misty weather that usually set in, every time the night approached and lasting well into the late hours of the morning, clouding any visibility for pedestrian and vehicular traffic alike, as the people had to go on about their daily business, whether going to church, school or work -- the offputting weather was not enough to spoil the daily lives of the Cassadians. After all, having to tolerate the thick fogs of these festering fogs every morning, was the same as not seeing the sun for almost half a year, that lasted from early October until late February.

The night advanced, and the hustle and bustle quieted down into a cricketing mumm, with the occasional car or utility truck or van driving along the roads that cut through the blocky 14-story flats that were placed in symmetrical rows of four that created a square that in the centre, a green zone, such as a park was constructed, with benches and the odd several trees that were outnumbered by those in the exteriors which were placed in row lines on each side of the paved asphalt roads

And as the inhabitants of this unnamed neighbourhood soundly went to sleep, the quiet men, of a special-purpose team (known by the catch-all term, Spetsnaz) quietly moved into position, as snipers teams moved in pairs as they positioned themselves on the rooftops overlooking a specific apartment block that was inhabited by certain individuals that they were ordered to move in to capture...dead or alive.

In conjunction with the sniper teams, two black Mercedes-Benz transporter vans rolled into the parking driveway, which, with the rolling of the side-doors of the vans, five men disembarked from each of the vehicles, donned in grey urban fatigues and body armour that covered vital parts of their bodies; plate carriers, or Ops-Core lightweight ballistic helmets. Also sporting either heavily modified, silenced version of the AR-15 or the MP5, the team of ten specialists entered the apartment building as they set started walking up the stairs, with the lead two brandishing their weapons forward up and round the corner.

'' Thermals show no sign of movement in the apartment, targets appear to be, sleeping?...weird.'' Said a voice over the comms to the squad leader of the deployed troop that had been going up the apartment, slowly, but surely up till now.

'' We hear you Strelets-1, we''ll make our way to the apartment entrance.'' Calmly acknowledged the officer, before he shifted his head back to his men.'' Alright men, here's the sitrep: Targets appear to be unaware of our presence, we'll need to pick up our pace.'' The man revealed to his subordinates, his face concealed under a balaclava.

The men under his command were not required to answer to this verbally, simply nodding before they increased their careful walk up the stairs into a quick jog that spared them from carefully tip-toeing up the stairway for which the GRB team would have taken them around a dozen precious minutes; from the ground entrance to the top floor where the apartment of two, foreign espionage agents used for their safehouse.

After around five minutes of jog walking, the ten-man team finally reached the apartment, as each of the members of the Spetsnaz squad at the front pointed the barrels of their guns at the door. That was until one of their colleagues at the back stepped from behind as he produced something from one of the pouches of his vest, something that resembled a cable with a thin microphone attached to the end, with a glass tip. The operator inspected the door before he inserted it carefully from under it, pushing the cable forwards as he watched a tiny monitor that broadcasted a feed from a small camera that was attached at the semi-round cylindrical end of the microphone-looking gadget.

'' Snoop camera feed shows no signs of booby-traps or tripwires. We're good to go.'' Whispered the operator to the squad leader, as he withdrew and wrapped up the strange contraption.

''Rodger that,'' Said, the superior, the words ''Klinkin'' transcribed on his shoulder patch, tapping the guy several times at the back, telling him through this non-verbal sign, to get back in formation.'' Matei, you're good to go, plant the breaching charges so that we get this shit over with.''

''Rodger that.''

A slightly, a shorter man who was fourth from the formation, emerged, taking from a back pouch four tiny, black, soap-shaped charges, which he quickly attached to the door, on two spots, both at the top, and slightly over the bottom off the ground from where the operated, theorized that the hinges of the door were situated.

''Charges are set.'' Said the operator before he scurried to the side, raising his weapons at the door with one hand, and the detonator in the other.'' Fire in the hole.''

The detonation of the charges did not produce anything spectacular, but the power it kicked was enough to blast the door to the apartment off its hinges, launching it forwards into the interior corridor of the apartment.

''GRB, GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!'' Screamed the squad leader, as he pointed his CAR, its attached LED light set on a strobe mode, as his team forcefully entered into the apartment, his comrade in front of his holding a heavy ballistic shield with a viewing port and strobe lights, which were turned on, to blind any potential fugitive from shooting back. Moving in the team split into two teams of five, as they rounded the corner into the living room, kitchen and bathroom, with only the bedroom having been left until now.

''Clear left.''

''Clear right.''

The revelation dawned quickly on the GRB team, as they found the two men, one on the bed, another on the couch to be lying motionlessly, their moth agape as if they had taken their last breath before they succumbed to whatever it was. Quickly finding in each of the Reinkalistan agents, a broken tooth that indicated that they had swallowed a poison capsule of some kind, most likely cyanide. The operators moved about in the room as they opened cupboards, desks, wardrobes in search of anything that might be hidden or tucked away in, containing valuable intel.

'' These guys appear to be dead sir, and the laptops are of no use. Looks like they bleached all the data.''

'' DAM IT! Ugh, Overlord, this is Nozh-1. Targets have been found dead, unexpected case of termination -- suicide.''

'' We hear you Nozh-1, proceed to exfiltrate. The regular authorities will continue past this point.''

'' Rodger that Overlord. Nozh-1 out.''

'' I hope our guys over in Pavelburg and Etropole will have better luck.''

'' So do I, Matei. So do I.''

''Klinkin'' would be proven right, soon enough, as Precinct Headquarters of the General Reconnaissance Bureau, both in Etropole and Pavelburg, likewise took their sweet little time to send its ''batmen'' after the other two persons who had been established to be agents of South Reinkalistan, shortly after they had entered the country. With one having been manhandled into an innocuous white van with blackened windows by mask-wearing tough-looking gentlemen, who made sure that they would snatch him as fast as they would disappear, to haul have him hauled away to a place unknown.

The last one, however, proved to be stubborn, having had unfortunately learned of the fate of his comrades, he left Pavelburg in a rental car which he had left to the side of the road, almost two hundred kilometres north of the ''Majestic Pearl'' that was Pavelburg. Proceeding on foot east in the direction of a wooded area that covered an uneven terrain which included streams and small caves -- a perfect locale with plenty of hiding spots, and plenty of sources of fresh water and food.

That would come for nought, as this agent would go on to be located and ''bagged'' spirited away into a black helicopter that flew into the morning mist and over the horizon. The tip from a local hunter, and another from a priest from a nearby monetary close to what was the Reinkalistani agent's hideaway proving invaluable in the GRB's manhunt.

Political Dissident & LGBT Activist Assassinated(Semi-Open)

Archinia Stirs

Preparations Part 1

Preperations Pt 2

Preperations Pt 3 Interlude

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