Political Dissident & LGBT Activist Assassinated(Semi-Open)

by **Qassadia** » Sat Feb 13, 2021 11:06 am

Military Orders Continuation of Snap Combat Readiness Drills

February 13th
2021

The General Reconnaissance Bureau announced on February tenth that it had arrested four individuals in a sting operation that Cassadia's prime security service had established, were part of spy ring for the Peoples Republic of South Reinkalistan's intelligence agency, the Ideological Office, as well as passing on information on classified data pertaining industrial secrets, military capabilities and knowledge of the LPU system on behalf of other intelligence agencies from states that are signatories to the Amistad Pact. The team apprehended their main hideout that was stationed right in the capital, in an unassuming Outer Ring neighbourhood. Two of the agents upon discovery by the authorities were found to have committed suicide, by what a post-coronary report summarized, to have been caused by the swallowing of cyanide capsules.

The other two members that comprised the spy ring were also apprehended, one having been detained in Etropole while the other wanted fugitive was arrested almost three hundred kilometres North-east of Pavelburg, with elements from the Cassadian Royal National Guard, local law-enforcement and General Reconnaissance Bureau, sweeping the area on his trail, after a brief unsuccessful pursuit, with Cassadian public security authorities briefly losing tack, they would be assisted by a local hunter and a monk, who guided them to the fugitive's hideaway.

'' We urge other nations to refrain from interfering in our internal affairs in the same fashion that our Kingdom has not attempted to do likewise.'' An excerpt from the press release of the Royal Department of Foreign Affairs stated.

The press office of the General Reconnaissance Bureau was unavailable for comment.

Think your friends would be interested? Share this story!

by **Qassadia** » Sat Feb 13, 2021 4:01 pm

To: Mansur al-Sulaymi, The Minister of Foreign Affairs
From: Joachim von Ribbentrop, Royal Secretary of Foreign Affair
Subject: Certain Events
Encryption: Highest, Delivered in sealed Diplomatic Pouch

To The Esteemed, Minister Of Foreign Affairs of the Sultanate of Faraby,

Sir,

I hope that all is well within your country and family.

On behalf of Her Majesty, I would like to convey Her commendation in how your country has chosen to conduct itself in light of a said certain incident that took place recently, pertaining to the assassination of former judge Adlopovna Gazgireyeva. While her death was marked by a collective outrage by more socially liberal nations states and signatories of the Amistad Declaration; what cannot be ignored is that Adlopovna Gazgireyeva committed grave acts of treason that aimed to undermine national security, motivated by an innate desire only ascribed to asocial criminal elements of a perverse sexual variety. Her damage inflicted, while insignificant in the broader sense, cannot be allowed considering that she was a member of the Holy Kingdom's higher judicial authority whose obligations were the maintenance of Cassadia's national security, in regards to not only public safety and confidential state secrets but also in protecting the moral and ideological integrity of Cassadian society as well as public and social order.

We of Her Majesty's Crown-Government express with great gratitude that your government has stepped forward to be willing to mediate negotiations between members of our government, any of one of a number of states who have announced their desire to increase escalation and tensions against my country, which I am afraid to say, will lead universally down the path of war rather than towards any peaceful resolution. Yet, it is not within our collective interest to not deny a chance to peace, as the safety and comfort of future generations depend on that, peace should prevail, instead of force of arms.

However, we of Her Majesty's Crown-Government will not agree to negotiations, unless it is to be conducted within the framework of the following format.

1. That any negotiations by rival state delegations, be conducted in light that the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia is a legitimate, sovereign state.
2. That the Crown-Government of Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena (I) Von Peacekraft, is recognized as the legitimate governing authority of the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia.

If even these two, basic demands are not met, then it is with great sadness that I have to express my regret that any potential negotiations that shall take place between members of my country's government will be pointless, unless we agree to their demands, that will more or less include, our total and unconditional capitulation.

Unless both of our demands are met, then I am afraid that these talks, cannot occur in the near future or even at any point in time.

I Have The Honor To Be,
Sir Joachim Von Ribbentrop
Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs

by **Palmyrion** » Sun Feb 14, 2021 2:12 am

McNernia wrote:
This is based on a Discord Request from Palmyrion to standdown

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.

Palmyrian Embassy
Cathcride, Kingdom of Archinia

The order was that simple: the Palmyrian crown was to ask the Archinians to stand down, if only to prevent the situation from boiling over and war from happening...for now. The entire world hung by a thread, not least of which was the current pandemic ravaging even the healthiest of nations, and with indications (mere purchase of battlecruisers) from Palmyrian intelligence that the Marquesans would join Cassadia's side if the Amistad Pact decided to dogpile on the "Holy" Kingdom; that Palmyrion was still fighting a bloody war in New Sandau only gave it more reason not to go into another war, even if they could count on the help of the Grant Theocracy. Sustaining an invasion and occupation of Cassadia was a taxing feat anyways.

"Greetings, Prime Minister. Apologies if this...meeting...was quite unscheduled." Ambassador Somido began. "I will get to the point immediately: the Royal Commonwealth does not wish to wage war. Somido said, stressing her point that the Royal Commonwealth didn't wish to go to war. "It would be a wiser decision if we were to stand down, seeing that our intelligence analysts have noted large movements of your forces." she added, not sugarcoating the fact that the Archinians were moving large amounts of military forces and assets which seemed to be a prelude to military action against Cassadia. "If we want to hit back at Cassadia, we can do so covertly - and our intelligence communities can work together on that regard."

by **Qassadia** » Sun Feb 14, 2021 3:36 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,

I pray that all is well over in your country and that your household is in order.

Your receptiveness to the following proposal I had put forward has filled my heart with joy, knowing that the old friendships and alliances that our forefathers before us built, often time with great difficulty can once again be rekindled into something that will lead forth to a bright new era of peace, stability and prosperity for our nations which would advance peace and security, not only in my region but also in yours as well. Furthermore, it would send a clear message to those malignant forces, whether it is Amistad or other state actors that the era when they could simply bully other states and peoples, into yielding to their demands - is finally coming to an end.

A conclusion that has been nigh-needed for a long time, to put to an end these brazen acts of aggression on the iron-laws of sovereignty, that were affirmed since the Peace of Westphalia, yet it has for the last thirty years, been rebuked and trampled on, by the so-called ''Free World'' under dangerous and often tragic platitudes of ''responsibilities to protect'', that have spawned more death and misery than it has done so ''protecting'' anything. The carnage it has left in Iraq, Libya, the Delvian States, Afghanistan, Yugoslavia is a testament to that blood-soaked trail of destruction.

Finally, I am hopeful, that the date on which, our government may find the most agreeable (February 15th) can be arranged in good faith and a suitable avenue organized for talks between our two delegations; to discuss a broad range of issue, from normalizing official diplomatic channels of communications, up to and including the re-opening of Foreign Missions in both our countries, to restarting trade ties that until recently could only be done through underground and covert means.

Senior members of the delegation shall be headed by my Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs Joachim von Ribbentrop, Royal Secretary of Energy Lepi Andreyov and Marquise Jajace Tvrtko of Gurai from the Kingdom of Bosanska.

I am more than hopeful, that our friendship between the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia and the Restored German Empire can be once again revived from the sudden grave that other powers, unfortunately, had induced it -- no more!

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

by **Qassadia** » Sun Feb 14, 2021 4:54 pm

Berlin Brandenburg Airport

The lone sight, of a Boeing 747 hanged over the clouds like a great lone albatross as it proudly cruised over the cushy sea of thick clouds that lingered over a land that was a final destination for all onboard who traveled on it. The great transport plane belonged to the Royal Fleed of the Crown-Government, a special squadron that had been established in the early days of civil transport aviation when the late, venerated Emperor Christian IX was gifted two Junkers Ju. 52 from the head of state of the German Empire at the time, with a delivery of a custom Focke Wulf Condor 200 that served in reserve as part of the personal air fleet of the Fuhrer.

As the plane further proceeded in its flight, the aircraft charted a course that saw it progressively descend through the clouds below, as four Panavia Tornadoes appeared in the rear in the plane, their markings identifying them as airframes of the Luftwaffe. The four fighter planes were split into pairs that trailed the aircraft in a V formation on each side of the tale, performing a salute maneuver, before breaking formation and steering back towards whatever base they were dispatched.

Soon, after the Boeing 747 finally came into sight of the place where the great airliner was scheduled to land; Brandenburg International Airport, the blocky, glass-rich architectural Airport terminal constructed in the Brutalist architectural style set it apart from many other landmarks — the (Carthage) Emperor Charles VII International Airport was constructed more or less to be in more ways than one, identical to the original building, that the Cassadian engineers and architects, desired it to look after.

The behemoth opened its landing gears from its fuselage as, shortly thereafter it touched down on the runway with a loud ''thump'' before decreasing its speed to a crew, as the flight crew guided the airplane to a certain spot near the terminal to which it came to a spot, while a stairway-aisle-carrying vehicle approached the plane, driving up to the front hatch door of the Boeing. Not long after, the door of the great titan of the aviation world that was the 747, opening up its passenger door from the inside out which emerged three figures one after the other.

While the snowy weather obstructed the view of whoever was on the ground, the face of Joachim von Ribbentrop would be instantly recognizable to those acquainted with the von Ribbentrop family - with the inescapable aristocratic disposition, high cheekbones, and strong well-defined jawlines, Joachim was also impeccable in his grooming, with his well-combed blonde hair and eyebrows that enhanced his bright ocean blue eyes in which one would have sworn they could drown in [OOC: Or be gassed idk].

The other two from his entourage would be the Royal Secretary of Energy Lepi Andreyov, a geriatric relic of a man who despite the passing of time, still had the strength and the mental capacity to run his Department, even after almost fifty-three years of service, this man of honor and ethic refused to bend to the way of his colleagues; into retirement. Andreyov had the look of a studious, analytical man, with a bullish face and square ugly glasses that reeked of the tastes of a bygone era, he was upright in posture, something remarkable for people his age, unlike his hair which by this point, had almost completely receded to the back of his head and his sides.

The last to exit the plane was an unknown, Marquise Jajace Tvrtko of Gurai. He was tall, handsome with a goatee beard and a majestic mane that had become almost curly as it flowed in the wind. He was a man whom few known outside the oligarch circle of the Holy Kingdom, a man who made his fortune in exporting oil and other products to countries from near and far away, bringing foreign currency which the Cassadian government pocketed a fee, for services rendered in establishing networks of overseas middlemen, front companies, and offshore bank accounts in third-party countries in no-named islands whose budgets to be used by questionable entities taking advantage of their banks to do transactions from the prying eyes of the civilized international community -- obviously, it was almost always through schemes that were concocted to ghost any attempts from the World Assembly in intercepting the great shipments that carried these products or other goods to and from Cassadia.

After a couple of fleeting moments, the three gentlemen descended the stairs in a leisurely fashion, unbothered by the chilly cold of February, for they were Cassadians. The trio took their first steps off the stairs and onto German soil, to be greeted by an honor guard of Hussars on both sides of the red carpet, who presented arms in a gesture of deep respect, at the mere utterance of the order-scream of their officer. Obviously, they were not the only ones to greet them, other than the official welcoming party, certain hand-picked media organizations were also here, such as Cassadia Today whose camera team and reporter had traveled to the country in advance to record this historic visit.

With Lepi Andreyov and the Marquise taking their place on the left and right of the Foreign Secretary, Joachim von Ribbentrop led the way as they strolled along the carpet between the aisle of soldiers to meet his hosts halfway. Actively resisting to do the salute, as he extended his hand in a friendly gesture, for a handshake and the first to speak, remarking in perfect German.

'' On behalf of Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena (I) Von Peacekraft, and Her Crown-Government, I am honored that we are to be entrusted into your care for the duration of our visit and subsequent negotiations. God willing, I hope it shall bring about the many fruits that can once again rekindle the bond between our two Great Civilizations and join hands in friendship for the betterment of peace and prosperity.''

With that, it was the turn of his colleagues to shake hands with their hosts, unlike Joachim, only Andreyov had the noble disposition to learn to speak German, unlike Marquise Jajace who followed on his own remarks in English. Something that mentally infuriated the Foreign Secretary. His eyes shifted to his hosts and back to the SUVs in the end, which were part of a pre-planned arrangement to take them to their hotel where they would spare the night, before the coming day ahead of them, in what Joachim hoped for; would be exhaustive negotiations for certain agreement ranging from trade deals to the purchase for transferring certain military technologies and for advanced electronics, propulsion systems.

by **McNernia** » Sun Feb 14, 2021 10:05 pm

Cathcride-Archinia
Prime Ministers Offices

“Right, I can see the issue. The Admiralty assured me that there would be little to no Marquesian Response…if there would be one at all but the act of discretion is the better part of Valor….” Shapter duly activated the communications line to the Admiralty and the Army command and the Ministry of Defense and sent the order to transition to Covert operations. He didn’t trust Juan Aguila entirely as he didn’t trust Ralton indeed the whole Libertarian party was on edge as Dion Fergus a Gaeldatian Assemblyman was seeking to get Shapters job. Calling him a Migrant and Anti-Semitism was bubbling all around. Archinia had been one safe place for the Jewish people. The fact a Jew a practicing Jew could be the PM of a very Christian country showed how things could go. “We are standing down…it may take a few hours for the order to get around. But I have only sent a Survey vessel potentially into harms way. That will be recalled. None of the wolves have set out for the hunt…And I do believe the intelligence community is most eager to talk.”

At Sea
HM Survey Vessel SV-7821
Interregional/World Northern ocean

The recall order was duly received as the ship was heading into night and acknowledged. The order to come about was given. The tender had already turned back. So there was no mission into hostile waters and the crew was fine with that. No submarines were in the area and the need was to get back before the Cassidians came out screaming for blood. It would take some time to get back to the homeland but being on the way was a definite plus. Home they steamed through the wine dark sea.

N.Archinia
Gaeldetia Training Grounds
Rail Operations Office-Central Command

The clerk received the order sitting in the dispatch office. The trains were being marshalled to bring another division north to the operations zone. The message was handed off to an aid of the 104ths Division Command staff who had been dropping by to see about the transit of the 104th when it came to it. The Lt Colonel of Logistics dully took the paper and rushed out into the snow with his NCO driver waiting. The Corpral duly stepped on the gass and headed into the training ground.

Driving among the vehicles as it was early morning was a odd experience. The 4x4 was a very ultitiarian vehicle. It could carry a turret with a machine gun or grenade launcher. Here it was sealed in the roof. Seated in the back there was the view of the barracks where soldiers could rest and there was the tanks parked beyond the small city by the side of the road. Those brigades acclimatizing to the climate or allowed into the Barracks to rest. The Division Command was a small encampment in among the tanks.

The General in command was a grim man as he looked over the order. “Recall the second and fourth as soon as you can. Out of the bags and everything….I take Lt Colonel that the ROD hasn’t made arrangements for our return?”

“There is a train being arranged to head south for another division.”

“See if Command will be able to get us on that one.”

“Right away sir.”

There would be the signs of it, a standdown from a train being prepared and over some time loaded with tanks and armored cars and the big locomotives powering it away under wires. Out at sea there would be a swarm of blips on any Naval radar satellite passing overhead and the distinctive heat patterns of surfaced reactors. A tender (AOE) was returning to the homeland with a Auxilary equipped with a very impressive sensor array and a submarine tender was returning to its home base in the Northern Fleet headquarters. The submarines would head south…

HM Naval Base Duncoiron
S.Archinia
“Admiral I have the 10th Submarine Squadron outside the bay. They are holding at the fort.” The commander of Task Force Morrigan which on paper included the 5th Submarine Division which was now returning to base except for this squadron which had been in transit for some time and active since the Cassies had sent off a Radioactive firecracker. Now Admiral MacInamara had his coffee in one hand and the orders to prepare for any and all manner of things short of strangling the Krillin region. He duly ordered the submarines and the tender into the bay as there was the looking of worried eyes on the dock. The squadron was a fine enough sight the lithe black predators had the white at the scope and parties at the rails.

The tugs arrived from their waiting place as the big boats which coujld deliver the assassins of the Crown onto the enemies with barely a whisper on the Sonar were lined up and moved to the submarine pens. Flying from the Commandants House was the flag of a four Star admiral and then there was the tradition Signal. Squadron Commander to report to the Commandant immeadiately. This was noticed by the officer on the flight deck of the tender as she was moved about. The young commodore was excited to meet the Admiral.

by **Marquesan** » Mon Feb 15, 2021 9:47 am

The Spire Chamber,
La Citadelle des Etoiles,
Nuku Hiva Capital District,
Marquesan States, Gholgoth.

"This situation is getting much too hot, too quickly."

"I agree, Primus. We've barely had time to study the situation in Krillin, our Foreign Policy Institute has been receiving a flurry of diplomatic cables from everywhere."

Inside the Spire, Obergruppenführer Hastmann, the Kraven Reich's ambassador to the Marquesan States sat drinking hot red tea with Archard Delphine, the Marquesan Primus Inter Pares, and Commandant Superieur Henri Valois, in command of Corps Guerre Navale, the surface warship arm of the Forces Marquises aux Armes. At the door stood two Kraven Capitol Police and a pair of Marquesan Sentinels, the soldiers couldn't have looked more different. The two Marquesan soldiers were dressed in subdued uniforms, green fatigues without any identifying markings or name tapes, their full-body armor worn under the loose-fitting clothing. Cradling Morrigan Type-03 Battle Rifles in their arms, they stood silent on either side of the burled maple double door. The pair of Capitol Police wore heavy armor, carrying full kit including an entrenching tool, ammunition and grenades, looking perhaps out of place in this setting, but the Kraven Reich did business on its own standard, always.

“Mr. Hastmann, I wonder if you have any wisdom you could share in regards to the Amistad Pact nations? The Romani Mar’si Union, Palmyrion...there are several Dienstadi nations involved.”

Delphine slid a dossier across the table in Hastmann’s direction. Inside, a synopsis of the diplomatic situation according to latest intelligence showed a listing of the nations that had openly declared against Cassadia.

“This is a delicate problem for us. As you are aware, the Union Charter outlaws all forms of unfree labor, slavery and usury, so we have a need to keep our hands a little cleaner than normal here. Cassadia, like the Reich, lacks such a regulation, and in the Cassadian case, their government is in open support of these practices. However, our shipyards have a production calendar to meet, and a disruption would be, of course, bad for business.”

Hastmann studied the dossier carefully, while Delphine spoke.

“We intend to deploy along our trade route on a Freedom of Navigation exercise, though we would like to not make too much of a show of it. Did you find out which Lance is closest, Commandant?”

C-Sr. Valois took a sip of water from a crystal glass before he spoke.

“Primus, the 660th Corps Guerre Navale is eight hundred kilometers east of Drakonia, they have been on deep ocean patrol of the regional border with Greater Dienstad with two fleet oilers accompanying the battle group. The group has been on exercise for two weeks and have eighty eight percent fuel reserves left, I belive they will reach Krillin faster than any other group of warships we can deploy."

"Very well, issue the orders, Commandant."

Delphine turned to Hastmann, looking over his black and red uniform, highly decorated, and his weathered face, thin, close-cropped hair gone nearly all white.

"Any suggestions, Obergruppenführer?"

HSC.239-Class Heavy Strike Cruiser Royale Thérèse
660th Lance, GN-CGM Battle Group,
800 Km. E of Drakonia, Gholgoth

**EAM**
**EAM**
**EAM**

The message flashed over the Communications Terminal on the Royale Thérèse, in white letters on a background alternating green to red. Pressing a button to silence the chime, Sergent Tassy printed the message, grabbing the page as it came off the printer and striding over to where Capitan Clarain sat.

"What is it, Sergent, new orders?"

"Looks like it, Capitan. We've just been ordered to Krillin."

"The whole battle group, or just us? Let me see that."

Clarain stood up and took the page from Tassy's hand. Clarain was a mountain of a man, taller than most Marquesans, with broad shoulders and darkly-tanned skin. As he read the message, he shook his head softly.

"So much for our training cruise." Clarain chuckled, folding the paper neatly in on itself and slipping it into a pants pocket.

"Tassy, confirm that the other ships received the same orders. If this is a mistake, we need to know right away."

"Oui, mon Capitan."

Clarain looked out the bridge windows. Around the Royale Thérèse, a sixteen-ship battle group was arrayed, including three other Naga-class Heavy Strike Cruisers, six Galeru-class Guided Missile Cruisers, three Shora-class gunnery destroyers, a pair of Damballa-class anti submarine frigates, and a pair of Prosperine-class fleet oilers. Steaming through glittering calm seas, on all seventeen ships, the relayed message was confirmed, and Tassy set down his console phone.

"Capitan, all ships confirm the message as genuine."

Clarain sighed, and nodded gently as he walked to an outside door to the bridge and lit up a cigarette. Taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out into the cool, salty air, he took a moment to look around the bridge, at the faces of his crewmen, and briefly allowed himself to imagine the ship under attack, their faces ashen and sooty, their uniforms torn, the glass all broken. As a veteran, Clarain deeply understood the consequences of war.

"It is my hope, ladies and gentlemen, that we can create such a show of force that we can tip the balance of power and bring peace where none currently exists. Tassy, relay back to High Command that we have received the order and will make best speed for Krillin. Conn, chart a course for the South Sche'gori Sea, convoy speed; we need to stay together. The fun is over, friends."

by **South Reinkalistan** » Tue Feb 16, 2021 9:49 am

People's Federation of Reinkalistan
Exterior Commissariat

Regarding: Arrest of Agents in Cassadia
16th February, 2021

On behalf of the Communist Party of Reinkalistan and the People's Federation as a whole, the Exterior Commissariat would like to make clear the fact that under no circumstance has an operative of the Ideological Office, acting under their faculties as established by their profession, entered, surveilled, or otherwise attempted clandestine operations to gather intelligence in Cassadia.

The men arrested by the Cassadian General Reconnaissance Bureau do not bear any affiliation with the Ideological Office, the People's Federation of Reinkalistan, or the Communist Party of Reinkalistan.

This event is marked, therefore, as a clear attempt of the Cassadian administration, in its maintained reactionary attempts to subvert international peace and stifle the flame of revolutionary socialism in Reinkalistan, and to manufacture tensions between the nations as a pretext for further aggression on the international stage. In its attempts to delegitimise the duly elected government of the People's Federation of Reinkalistan, to cast the necessary efforts of the Ideological Office in a light to suggest it is a malicious entity, the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia has confirmed that it harbours nothing but blatant animosity and unwarranted hostility.

It is believed by the Communist Party of Reinkalistan that the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia has engaged in this blatant act of libelous sabotage in reaction to the cessation of all diplomatic ties and withdrawal of Reinkalistani representatives in Cassadia, which in turn was a reaction to the blatant and shameless assassination of Adlopovna Gazgireyeva by Cassadian agents.

The Exterior Commissariat, therefore, officially issues a note of diplomatic protest to the actions of the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia, as well as an immediate demand to rescind the implicit accusation against the People's Federation of Reinkalistan regarding espionage and subterfuge. If the demands of the Exterior Commissariat are not heeded, further action may be taken as deemed appropriate.

May the forefathers continue to share us their blessings.

Signed: Exterior Commissar L. Turnov
Release authorised by the Ideological Office

by **TURTLESHROOM II** » Tue Feb 16, 2021 11:01 am

Code: Select all: ! What is it with nations lying on obvious situations? Qassadia killed a traitor and denied it despite having every right to do so. Why not just tell the truth? These commies sent spies to a country with known Marxist resistence and mass slave labor. They at least have avalid reason not to admit it, as it's a matter of national security and an act of war, but Qassadia's denial is ridiculous.

by **McNernia** » Tue Feb 16, 2021 8:18 pm

OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUE OF THE KINGDOM OF ARCHINIA
HM GOVERNMENT

From:The office of the Foreign Minister of the Kingdom of Archinia
To:The Foreign Ministry of the Catholic Republic of Langenia
Cc:
Sec:MOST SECRET- DELIVERED VIA HM ENVOY IN ARAGON
Sub:Your Relationship with Cassidia

Greetings

We have heard that you have called for Calm in the issue of the Cassidian crisis. We have heard that there is a relationship between you and the Holy Empire. We warn you that if things deteriorate we may have to potentially act against you in kenetic ways if that becomes necessary to ensure an end to the Qassidian Regime. Hence HM Government is resolved to offer you a chance to be on the right side of this crisis so that you dont end up in a problematic state.

Signed
S.Calgran Foreign Minister

by **Lauzanne** » Wed Feb 17, 2021 2:50 am

Dmitar Marković looked at the paper in his hands, courtesy of the SVRL. Even the small initial brief made his skin crawl.

DIPLOMATIC SITUATION BREWING IN KINGDOM OF CASSADIA. STANDOFF WITH POLISH-PRUSSIAN COMMONWEALTH DIPLOMAT STAFF LIKELY. ADVISE SENDING PERSONNEL TO OVERSEE SITUATION.

“Diplomatic Situation” sounds normal on the surface, but the Director of Foreign Relations knew the gravity of the situation immediately. At best it could mean a standoff, at worst, one country could become an international pariah and even war could break out. He took a deep sigh, looking at the phone on his dark oak desk, off to the right near the various files and folders. Picking up the headset, he punched the numbers in for his SVRL counterpart, with the other party already picking up.
”I see you have received my brief.”
“By the Gods, you’re telling me they’re going to have a fucking shootout!?” Marković shouted, over the microphone to his spy counterpart.
”A shootout is unlikely, I’ve already contacted my friends in the PPC. Their ROE is strict, it’s Cassadia that will be the wildcard.” the SVRL’s Director replied, voice as level as ever.
“I’m aware of the situation somewhat, something about an LSU being adopted by the diplomat staff. Cassadia isn’t taking to it too kindly.”
”That’s where you come in, Director Marković. I have two… Diplomatic staff on standby. All you’d need to do is send the Cassadians a diplomatic message. You’ll be observing the events for any… Unseemly business, and report back to the international community. Simple.”
“And I am to assume these two are trained individuals? You’re not sending assassins under my banner, or else I’ll have your head.”
”You know I’m not stupid, Director. I’m sending two of my best negotiators. Since Cassadia is a monarchy, I even decided to throw in a Prince.”
Just like that, an email arrived in Marković’s inbox. He checked it for dossiers of the two of them, giving a slight flick through. Prince Leonid Alyuk of Maksimka, and Major Nataliya Vantcheva.
“Him, I’ve heard about him. Given what he’s gone through he’s a loose cannon, seeing that shit will make him snap and you know it.”
”Lieutenant-Colonel Alyuk is a refined and honed agent, Director. If I instruct him to do something, he will do it, be it investigate, oversee a diplomatic dispute, or remove someone from the face of this Earth. Or do you not trust my judgement and experience?” The fact that the Director of the SVRL was calm this entire time made Marković relent.
“Fine, I’ll send the message off. If they fuck up, it’s going to be on you.”
”I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll mobilise the agents. Good day to you.” With that, the line went dead. Marković sighed, putting his own phone down after some time and looking to the PC that took centre stage on the desk. It wasn’t anything fancy, of course. But right now it had the weight of a life on it.

Lauzanne Department of External Relations, Ministry of the Exterior

Recipient: Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs Joachim von Ribbentrop
Sender: Director of the Department of Foreign Relations Dmitar Marković
Subject: Situation Regarding PPC and
Encryption: LEVEL 2

Royal Secretary,

It has come to the attention of this Department, as well as to the Lauzannean government at large that there is a brewing diplomatic situation within your country, particularly regarding the Prussian-Polish Commonwealth. It should be noted that although Lauzanne and Cassadia do not have normalised or any formal diplomatic relations, it is imperative that such an event is overseen by neutral parties to ensure that diplomatic law is upheld both in spirit and in writing. To this end, I am dispatching a plane with two diplomatic staff and four bodyguards to ensure that neither side conducts themselves in a dishonourable manner throughout this event. The DFR will ensure that all appropriate fees are paid for their potential stay in Carthage. It is our hope that this situation can proceed smoothly, lest the consequences of violence affect all countries and peoples involved.

D.D.F.R Dmitar Marković.
[align=right][align]

After typing up the diplomatic message, it was sent off to Cassadia, the weight of the world now pressing down on him. He knew the PPC’s Ministry for Foreign Affairs’ stance on the matter, and even skimming through the rest of the brief, it didn’t look pretty.

ASSESSMENT OF SITUATION IS COMPLEX. POTENTIAL FACTIONALISM WITHIN PPC DIPLOMATIC GROUP COULD RESULT IN VIOLENCE OR FIREFIGHT.

RECOMMEND SENDING AGENTS WITH STRONG DIPLOMATIC AND NEGOTIATION SKILLS, CANDIDATES: MAJOR VANTCHEVA, LT.COL ALYUK. VANTCHEVA’S NEGOTIATION SKILLS ASSESSED AS EXCELLENT [SEE SVRL FILE 20-03X-WZ OPERATION NEW ORDER], CONSIDERED DISARMING TO OPPONENTS. LATTER HAS STRONG ANALYTICAL CAPABILITY, ROYAL HERITAGE, REFINED INTERPERSONAL SKILLS, LACK OF HESITATION IN MISSION

“Milojević, you better fucking pull this off.” He said to an empty office, praying to the Gods that this didn’t drag Lauzanne into things far beyond its size.

Igrane Airbase was always quite the hub of activity, playing host to both the 87th and 44th Tactical Fighter Squadrons, as well as transports, air defence and even the odd Army unit on occasion. But seeing a relatively mundane seemingly civilian airliner on the runway was never good news. The Falcon 50 was such a plane, the two pilots and two reserve pilots tense but ready to go. As a civilian sedan pulled up and parked inside, five figures left the vehicle. Four of the figures were men, clad in LDF digital camo, body armour and blue berets, their helmets adorning their backpacks. They strode with their AS Val rifles held low, as they flanked either side of a woman dressed in a pin striped suit and jacket, collared shirt and red tie. Her hair was short, brown and well-kept, her skin being a similar tan. She had an enigmatic look about her, as she felt a buzzing in her pocket. With one fluid motion, the phone was on, receiving and pressed against her ear.

“Yes?”
”You’ve got the go ahead, Blue. Go to church, before heading to the saloon.”
“Anything else you’d like?”
”Ensure that you, your team and the church remain standing at the end. That, and get Bell out, I’m sure your piety will be strengthened.”
“Of course, anything for God.”
”Good hunting.”

Like that, he had hung up, Nataliya Vantcheva slipping the phone back in as she approached the pilots, starting to look alive now that their passengers were here.
“We’re on. We’re going to Palmyrion first, Sam Ramon AFB. Then we’re going into the belly of the beast.”
“Carthage, huh? As long as we get paid by the hour, I guess.” The first LAF pilot commented, starting to head up the stairs into the Falcon. His copilot was next, the team going in and the two reserve pilots following up. Soon after, Vantcheva stood in the cockpit as the two pilots started up the plane.
“Alfa-Boris-Nova-One, this is Diplomatic-Light-Seven-Nine-Eight. Requesting permission to take off, Over.”
”Diplomatic-Light-Seven-Nine-Eight, this is Alfa-Boris-Nova-One. Permission granted, take off along Runway One.”
“Affirmative, Diplomatic-Light-Seven-Nine-Eight, out.” The pilot replied, as the engines came to life. He looked back at the lady looking out of the cockpit with him.
“You’ll have to take a seat, ma’am.” He commented, Vantcheva sitting down in one of the third seats and buckling in. As soon as she was down, the jet started to launch forwards, attempting to attain the right speed for takeoff. Soon after, it was flying into the sky, it’s landing gear retracting.
Vantcheva took a deep breath, she might not see her homeland for quite some time… Or ever again.

It was a nice day in Warsaw; not too hot, not too cold. However, Lyun had no time to waste on pondering the weather, since she had a mission. She did one last feel check as the car took her to the airport.
SR-3, four magazines plus the one in the gun. FZ-P10, three spare mags. A smoke, body armour. In the bag is more ammo, but I doubt I’ll get a chance to use much of it…
Lyun pushed such thoughts down, seeing as useless anxiety would only lower her performance. As soon as the car stopped, she was out, grabbing her dufflebag from the boot before taking off at a jog for the plane.

Even here in Warsaw the tension was palpable. The ground crews were anxious, and even the Prussian-Polish Guards Hussars Regiment members seemed like they were on the mission already. Compared to the members of the Regiment, she looked severely underdressed, the only remotely green thing on her person being the standard-issue LDF jacket she wore. Comfortable, but big enough to hide a decent amount of firepower.
“Hey boys, sorry I’m late.” She greeted the group, still carrying the bag full of clothes, food and ammunition.

“Morning.” one of them replied; a fair-haired, green-eyed young woman who had been caught in the middle of field-stripping her G3. “You’re Lyun, yes? Where’s your gear? We have spares if you need any.”

Lyun responded by unzipping her OD jacket, showing the SR-3 and handgun, the print of the vest visible under her collared white shirt.
"Only the essentials for a night on the town in Carthage. And yes, I'm Lyun. Pleased to meet you."

“Nice.” the woman responded. “Name’s Claire. Surname’s right here.”
She pointed towards her nametape, velcroed on her plate carrier.
Godwinsson, it read.
“Lyun, no last name. Nice to meet you, Claire Godwinsson.” Lyun declared, unblinking.

“No surname?”

“They found me in a forest as an adult. No ID, no wallet. I don’t remember anything before then. I was found in June, so they called me Lyun.”

“...huh. You bonk your head or something?”

Lyun shrugged nonchalantly.
“I can’t tell you, to be honest. All I remember is waking up in a forest to nice men in camouflage.”

“Nice. Right, I assume they’ve told you the gist of things, yea? We’re pulling out my idiot brother and his crew as well as some gremlin they picked up.”

“That ‘gremlin’ is the reason for me being here, Claire Godwinsson. We’re going in to ensure that your brother, his staff and Bell can escape to safety.” Her voice took on an edge of seriousness, but she let the remark not get to her too much.

Claire seemed unfazed. “Yeah, yeah. Just as long as I bag a Cassie ‘fore we go home.”

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea... But when do we take off?" Lyun looked up at the plane, a C-17.

“Give it two, three, more hours. Now’s the time to grab shit from the airport if you want to. There’s a nice little ice cream shop in there.”

"I see… I have a feeling this may take a while, do we have spare food?" Lyun asked, now looking back to Godwinsson and her group.

“First Strike Rations.” A second soldier grunted. “They’re alright if you can handle the constipation.”

"That doesn't sound very ideal." Lyun commented, her mysterious smile remaining on her face. She opted to sit down on her own dufflebag, seeing as they were still going to be waiting for a while yet.
"They're probably going to try and stand us off…"

He shrugged. “I mean, true. But FSRs are tiny and filling. They’ll last us...I think, a week or two, maybe more.

"Okay. I'm not sure what else we would need, so we just wait now?"

“Yeah, wait for pre-flight checks and all the guys busy getting in one last good meal to come back. You eat yet?”

“I haven’t, actually.”

“You sure you don’t want to grab something ‘fore we go?”

“I… Might. I’ll be back.” Lyun replied, zipping up her jacket and heading off to the airport building to get a meal.

The airport didn’t have the same tension, but even seeing the flight crew with the hint of being on edge reminded her of what was to come. She opted to take her food and sit down with the pilots, nodding their way.

“One last meal before we go, boys?”
One of the pilots looked up from his chicken wrap. “Yep.” he replied, his voice muffled by food. “We’re gonna be eating bagged shit after this.”

“So I understand. I just got this.” Lyun pointed down to three burgers, two servings of fries, and a milkshake.
“Something small.”

His co-pilot, who was currently working through a Pączki donut, stopped mid-bite as he glanced at her food.

Lyun picked the middle burger, starting to munch away at it. After the first mouthful, she looked at the co-pilot.
“... Is something wrong with the food?” She asks, looking down at the others and inspecting the burger in her hands.

The co-pilot slowly swallowed down his bite of pastry. “...None. But that’s a lot.”

Lyun was surprised at the revelation.
“... It is?”

“...yes?”

“I see. Well, I’ll keep that in mind next time.” Lyun shrugged, before resuming her munching away at the burger, finishing it and the other two in short order before demolishing the fries, the milkshake slowly going down over the course of her eating.

The pilots, for their part, cleared out their much smaller meals quickly.

“Well boys, I assume we should get going now?”

The pilot nodded. “Aye. Preflight checks should’ve finished up by now, and Carthage isn’t gonna wait for us.”

“That it isn’t. Lead the way then…”
Lyun then squinted at the pilot’s nameplate.

Zielonka, it read.
“Flight Lieutenant Zielonka.” He replied.

“And Flight Lieutenant Czarny.” his copilot chimed in.

“Lead the way then, Flight Lieutenant Zielonka and Flight Lieutenant Czarny.” Lyun chirps, before standing aside to let the pair go to their plane, looking around for anyone suspicious.

Nothing yet. An endless wave of people seemed to go to and fro within Warsaw-Chopin, intersped with a few bored gendarmes or police on guard.

Lyun followed the two pilots out to the aircraft, and taking a better look at the plane from afar made her really appreciate the size of the thing.
“Globemaster seems to be an appropriate term for such an aircraft. It’s awfully big…”

“Aye.” Czarny replied, smiling. “Not as big as one of the new Galaxies they’re getting, but it’s a good place and it can carry a ton of shit.”

“They have a plane called the Galaxy? It’s even bigger?” Lyun seemed shocked.
“The biggest plane I have ever seen was Anteus…” As she approached, she noticed Claire still sitting outside
“Hello, Claire Godwinsson. I’m ready to go now.”
The blonde-haired soldier nodded and turned to a new arrival; an older officer, who seemed to be in charge of the rest of the Prussian-Poles. Arciszewski was printed on his nameplate.
“Greetings… Kapitan Arciszewski. I’m Lyun, the tag-along.” She offered her hand to the officer, the bright green eyes adding to her friendly appearance.

The old soldier glanced at her hand as if it was holding a knife, but finally shook it. “You brought your own guns and ammo, yes?” He asked, rhetorically. “Good. Find a set and get comfortable, we’re taking off in a few minutes. If you need to vomit there’s a bag under the seat.”

Lyun simply nodded, stepping up the massive ramp and taking a seat nearest to the side door.

The cargo ramp for the C-17 soon shut, and the whine of jet engines from outside was followed by a lurch as it began to taxi down the runway. Soon, the plane was in the air, headed for Carthage.

Some hours later, Sam Ramon AFB, Palmyrion.

True Faith took one look at the plane, before seeing the principle passenger of the aircraft standing outside as it was undergoing pre-flight checks once more. As he approached, the first to notice was the tan woman, suit jacket off to reveal her holstered handgun.
“Ah, Your Highness. How wonderful to see you again so soon.” Vantcheva chirped, her smile widening as she saw the hint of displeasure on his face.
“The world moves in strange and unpredictable ways. Managed to read the file on New Order. Impressive work.”
“Why thank you. Oh, and just so you know, you have been announced as a Prince to the Cassadians, so you’re going to have to deal with formality for quite a while.” Vantcheva added, giving a little wink at the end to emphasise the point.
“I’m sure I can manage. You have the files?” Leonid asked, looking up at the Falcon.
“Of course, they’re inside just sitting there snugly waiting for you.”
“Good. When can we take off?”
“Right away, we’ll have one more stop-over and then it’s off to Carthage directly.”
“Alright, let’s go.”

Soon after taking off, Leonid opened the sealed file. Right on the underside of the flap was EYES ONLY. Vantcheva eyed him as he seemingly put away the cigarette to eat a Danish pastry, eyeing the first file.

Code: Select all: SUBJECT: UPCOMING DIPLOMATIC STANDOFF PRIORITY: ONE INVOLVED PARTIES: POLISH-PRUSSIAN COMMONWEALTH, HOLY KINGDOM OF CASSADIA, FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF LAUZANNE OVERVIEW DIPLOMATIC SITUATION BREWING IN KINGDOM OF CASSADIA. STANDOFF WITH POLISH-PRUSSIAN COMMONWEALTH DIPLOMAT STAFF LIKELY. ADVISE SENDING PERSONNEL TO OVERSEE SITUATION. STANDOFF IS DUE TO SUBJECT 1, A LIVING PROPERTY UNIT (HENCEFORTH ‘LPU’) NAMED BELL (NOW BELL HANCOCK). UNDER CASSADIAN LEGAL SYSTEM, BELL IS NOT CONSIDERED A HUMAN AND THUS NOT LEGALLY ALLOWED TO LEAVE THE CASSADIAN MAINLAND. HOWEVER, INTELLIGENCE OBTAINED FROM INTELLIGENCE SOURCE “LYUN” INDICATES A LIFELONG MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL PROGRAMMING ATTEMPT HAS BEEN THWARTED BY PPC NAVAL INFANTRY STAFF, WHO REFUSE TO LEAVE BELL IN CASSADIA. BARON PUNCHEV LUKOV (SEE ATTACHED PERSONNEL FILE) HAS GAINED KNOWLEDGE OF THIS PLAN AND IS MOVING TO RE-ACQUIRE BELL HANCOCK TO UNKNOWN ENDS. KNOWN STANCES OF PARTIES POLISH-PRUSSIAN COMMONWEALTH [PPC] IT IS KNOWN THAT THE POLISH-PRUSSIAN COMMONWEALTH’S OPINION ON THE SITUATION IS DIVIDED. PRIME MINISTER AND MINISTRY OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS WISH FOR CO-OPERATION OF DIPLOMATIC STAFF, MINISTRY OF WAR AND LAUZANNE-FRIENDLY ELEMENTS INDICATE A SCHISM IN OPINION, MAY PRESENT POLITICAL INSTABILITY IN FUTURE OVER THE MATTER OF BELL HANCOCK. HOLY KINGDOM OF CASSADIA [HKC] IT IS KNOWN THROUGH FRIENDLY SOURCES THAT THE HOLY KINGDOM OF CASSADIA DOES NOT RECOGNISE BELL HANCOCK’S STATUS AS A REFUGEE AND ADOPTED DAUGHTER OF TWO NAVAL INFANTRY MEMBERS ON THE DIPLOMATIC STAFF, AND ARE MOVING TO STOP BELL HANCOCK FROM REACHING THE PPC DIPLOMATIC PLANE (A C-17 GLOBEMASTER III, LIKELY WITH SOF ON BOARD FOR SECURITY) AND FLYING TO THE SAFETY OF THE PPC. IT IS KNOWN THAT BARON PUNCHEV LUKOV (LUKOV) HAS MOBILISED MEMBERS OF THE UNION OF CASSADIAN NATIONAL LEGIONS (UCNL) TO INTERCEPT AND PREVENT BELL’S ESCAPE. WILLINGNESS TO VIOLATE DIPLOMATIC LAW BY ENGAGING IN HOSTILITIES WITH PPC NAVAL INFANTRY AND LIKELY SOF PROTECTION UNKNOWN. FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF LAUZANNE ALTHOUGH WITH LITTLE STAKE IN THE INCIDENT SAVE FOR ALLIANCE WITH PPC AND POTENTIAL FORMATION OF ‘LEAGUE OF FREE NATIONS’. LAUZANNE IS TO BE A NEUTRAL OBSERVER. HOWEVER, THE POLITICAL GAINS FROM ALLOWING FOR BELL HANCOCK’S ESCAPE ARE AS OF YET UNKNOWN, BUT WITH THE POTENTIAL TO CAUSE WIDE GEOPOLITICAL EFFECTS IN CASSADIA’S INTERNATIONAL STANDING. ALLOWING BELL HANCOCK’S ESCAPE PROVIDES INTELLIGENCE ON CASSADIA’S LPU INSTITUTION, METHODS AND SCALE, VIOLENCE TO SEPARATE BELL HANCOCK FROM THE PPC NAVAL INFANTRY OR POTENTIAL SOF ESCORTS WILL RESULT IN LOSS OF INTERNATIONAL STANDING. GIVEN CORDIAL RELATIONS WITH MARQUESAN (CURRENTLY ON THE SIDE OF CASSADIA) PPC, PALMYRION (CO-OPERATIVE INVESTIGATION AND COUNTER-INTELLIGENCE WORK UNDER ‘TFV’, OPPOSED TO CASSADIA) IT IS THE ADVICE OF INVOLVED INDIVIDUALS TO TAKE EXTREME CARE WHEN CARRYING OUT OBSERVATION AND POTENTIAL NEGOTIATIONS. THE UNION OF MARQUESAN STATES ALTHOUGH SUPPORTING CASSADIA BY MATERIAL MEANS VIA PARTIAL CONSTRUCTION OF SEVERAL BATTLE-CRUISERS (SEE SVRL-WF-HKC-2021-N2, ‘EMPEROR-NIMROD CLASS CGN’) THE MARQUESAN GOVERNMENT SEEMINGLY SUPPORTS THE IDEA THAT BELL SHOULD BE PROTECTED UNDER NATIONAL LAW, THIS PLACES THEM SOMEWHERE AGAINST THE CASSADIAN GOVERNMENT ON THIS MATTER. THEY ARE LIKELY ABLE TO PLACE PRESSURE ON THE CASSADIAN EMPRESS RELENA VON PEACEKRAFT AND LUKOV, WHICH CAN POTENTIALLY TIP SITUATION IN PPC’S FAVOUR. MAINTAIN DIPLOMATIC COMMUNICATIONS WITH UNION OF MARQUESAN STATES DURING SITUATION. OTHER STATE ACTORS ALTHOUGH FULL EXTENT OF OTHER STATE ACTORS AWARE OF SITUATION NOT KNOWN, OPINION WOULD BE SPLIT ALONG LINES THAT WILL SUPPORT CASSADIA FOR THEIR AUTHORITARIAN RIGHT TO DENY THEIR CITIZENS ASYLUM, OTHERS SUPPORTING THE PPC (LIKELY TO BE PALMYRION, ALTHOUGH EXTENT OF DIPLOMATIC PRESSURE THAT CAN BE EXERTED ON CASSADIA IS LIMITED.) HOWEVER, SITUATION IS STILL VOLATILE AND CAN RESULT IN ONE OF THREE POSSIBILITIES. MAIN POSSIBLE OUTCOMES OF THE SITUATION. OUTCOME ONE: RETURN OF BELL TO CASSADIAN HANDS OUTCOME ONE WILL BE WHERE THE UCNL AND OTHER CASSADIAN ACTORS OBTAIN BELL THROUGH NON-VIOLENT MEANS, SUCH AS THE DIPLOMATIC STAFF GIVING HER UP TO THE CASSADIANS, HER SURRENDERING HERSELF, OR A DEAL BEING STRUCK THAT DOES NOT FOLLOW THE PAST TWO VARIATIONS. POLITICAL FALLOUT LIKELY AS THE INDICATED SCHISM BETWEEN MFA AND CIVILIAN PRIME MINISTER AND THE MOW AND KING DEEPENS. ANIMOSITY FROM DIPLOMATIC STAFF LIKELY. CASSADIA SUFFERS MINOR INTERNATIONAL BACKLASH, ALTHOUGH IT WILL REMAIN LARGELY UNAFFECTED. OUTCOME TWO: ESCAPE BY BELL HANCOCK TO UMS OUTCOME TWO WILL BE MORE LIKELY AS THE STANDOFF GROWS LONGER, OWING TO OTHER STATE ACTORS BEING AWARE OF THE SITUATION AND BEING LIKELY TO PRESSURE THEM TO LET BELL HANCOCK GO. POLITICAL FALLOUT UNKNOWN, ALTHOUGH LIKELY WITHIN PPC IF NATURE OF MFA STANCE IS KNOWN TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC. BELL ALSO PRESENTS A RARE INSIDE VIEW OF CASSADIAN LPU SYSTEM, HERETOFORE UNKNOWN BEFORE NOW OWING TO SECRECY AND SELECTIVE HIRING OF STAFF. LIKELY TO HEAVILY DAMAGE CASSADIAN REPUTATION IF KNOWN OSINT RUMOURS OF WIDESPREAD ABUSE OF LPU’S IS CONFIRMED. TRANSPORT TO MARQUESAN STATES WILL ENABLE POLITICAL PROTECTION FROM CASSADIA BY MARQUESAN. OUTCOME THREE: ESCALATION RESULTING IN FIREFIGHT OUTCOME THREE IS THE MOST DAMAGING TO ALL PARTIES INVOLVED. A FIREFIGHT WITH DIPLOMATIC STAFF FOR THE RETRIEVAL OF WHAT IS LEGALLY CONSIDERED A PIECE OF PROPERTY WOULD BE CONSIDERED A SEVERE BREACH OF INTERNATIONAL DIPLOMATIC LAW, LIKELY RESULTING IN CASSADIA BECOMING A PARIAH STATE. WAR IS MORE LIKELY, SEEING AS THE PPC WOULD BE MORE LIKELY TO MILITARILY CO-OPERATE WITH PALMYRION (ASSUMING PAST WAR CRIMES INCIDENTS DO NOT PLAGUE THE PALMYRIAN ARMED FORCES) PPC AND PALMYRION HAVE CASSUS BELLI. HOWEVER, PROJECTIONS OF THE WAR (SEE SVRL-AF-HKC-2020-1,2 AND 3 ‘ARMED FORCES OF CASSADIA ASSESSMENT’) WOULD BE COSTLY, OWING TO NUMBERS, LOGISTICS DIFFICULTIES, SCALE OF WAR AND CASSADIAN DOCTRINE. [U][B]AVOID AT ALL COSTS[/U][/B] SUMMARY ASSESSMENT OF SITUATION IS COMPLEX. POTENTIAL FACTIONALISM WITHIN PPC DIPLOMATIC GROUP COULD RESULT IN VIOLENCE OR FIREFIGHT, LEADING TO SCENARIO THREE. FOR BEST SUCCESS, SEND SVRL AGENTS AS DIPLOMATIC WITNESSES. RECOMMEND SENDING AGENTS WITH STRONG DIPLOMATIC AND NEGOTIATION SKILLS, ALONG WITH EXPERIENCE IN UNPREDICTABLE SITUATIONS, CANDIDATES: MAJOR VANTCHEVA, LT.COL ALYUK. VANTCHEVA’S NEGOTIATION SKILLS ASSESSED AS EXCELLENT [SEE SVRL FILE 20-03X-WZ OPERATION NEW ORDER], CONSIDERED DISARMING TO OPPONENTS, QUICK THINKING SKILLS IN VARIETY OF FIELD SCENARIOS. LATTER HAS STRONG ANALYTICAL CAPABILITY, ROYAL HERITAGE, REFINED INTERPERSONAL SKILLS, LACK OF HESITATION IN CARRYING OUT ASSIGNED TASK. FOR BEST OVERALL RESULT TO STRENGTHEN ALLIES AND WEAKEN POTENTIAL OPPONENTS, ENSURE THAT HVI BELL HANCOCK BOARDS EITHER PPC DIPLOMATIC PLANE OR FRL PLANE TO FLY TO CAVOGLAVE, THE UNION OF MARQUESAN STATES. FROM THERE RTB. EYES ONLY, WHEN MEMORISED, SHRED PAPER.

Leonid then looked up at Vantcheva, handheld shredder at the ready. He passed the first file over, which she promptly fed to the hungry machine as she pointed out the next file.

“This is the file on Lukov, who you and I are likely going to get very well acquainted with.”
“Baron Lukov, head of the UCNL if I’m not mistaken.”
“Well, read the file.”

Leonid then drew the second file out, already starting to read intently.

Code: Select all: SVRL-PF-HKC-2020-BPL SEC: CLASSIFIED LEVEL THREE OVERVIEW BARON PUNCHEV LUKOV (HENCEFORTH “LUKOV”) IS A BARON OF THE ROBVOI ESTATE, IN THE SELF-GOVERNING TERRITORY OF THE BULGAR KHANATE. AS OF 2020, DESPITE BEING A LOW RANK ON THE FEUDAL RANKING SYSTEM, LUKOV IS ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL MEN IN THE HOLY KINGDOM OF CASSADIA, KNOWN TO HAVE EMPRESS RELENA VON PEACEKRAFT’S (HENCEFORTH “RELENA”) EAR AT ALL TIMES, AS WELL AS BEING COMMANDER OF THE UNITED CASSADIAN NATIONAL LEGIONS (UCNL). LUKOV IS ALSO CONSIDERED A DECORATED VETERAN, WITH SERVICE IN THE MILLENIUM WAR (SEE FILE SVRL-W-HKC-EJK-1997) AND LATER TRAINING IN THE CASSADIAN VDV. WHEN EJECTED FOR THE MURDER OF FOUR OTHER TRAINEES, LUKOV JOINED THE BORDER GUARDS, SERVING IN THE CONQUERED COUNTRY OF ALBARAZIL (SEE FILE SVRL-CO-ABL) BEFORE RETURNING TO POLITICS WITH JOINING THE UCNL, SOON AFTER COMING TO POWER AND PURGING HIGH-RANKING MEMBERS. LUKOV IS CONSIDERED A DANGEROUS INDIVIDUAL, APPROACH WITH CAUTION IF DETECTED. LIKELY ARMED, OR WITH UCNL BODYGUARDS NEARBY. PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE LUKOV IS CONSIDERED BY PROFESSIONAL PSYCHOLOGISTS TO HAVE SOCIOPATHIC TENDENCIES. TELEVISION APPEARANCES IN 2013 AND 2014 THAT HAVE BEEN RECORDED INDICATE AN EXCESSIVE DEGREE OF POLITENESS AND FRIENDLINESS TOWARDS THE TELEVISION STAFF THAT IS A CLASSICAL SIGN OF SOCIOPATHIC BEHAVIOUR (SEE FILES SVRL-AF-HKC-2013BPL AND SVRL-AF-HKC-2014BPL). LUKOV ALSO DOES NOT HESITATE TO RESORT TO VIOLENCE, AS SEEN BY THE PURGES INFLICTED IN 2014 AS WELL AS THE TAKEOVER OF THE UCNL FROM HIS LATE FATHER, MAIDANOV LUKOV (SEE FILE SVRL-PF-HKC-2011-BML). IT IS SUSPECTED AS WELL THAT LUKOV DOES NOT HAVE MUCH CONTROL OF HIS IMPULSES, AND MAY BE SUFFERING FROM AN UNDIAGNOSED MENTAL CONDITION. HOWEVER, THERE IS NO CONCRETE EVIDENCE TO SUGGEST THAT DIAGNOSIS HAS HAPPENED OR WHAT HIS CONDITION COULD BE. LUKOV WHEN OBSERVED AROUND RELENA IS LESS PRONE TO VIOLENCE AND DISPLAYS LESS SOCIOPATHIC TENDENCIES, INDICATING POSSIBILITY THAT EVENTS BETWEEN CHILDHOOD FRIENDSHIP AND ADULTHOOD AFFECTED LUKOV’S DEVELOPMENT. CURRENT THEORY CITES EVIDENCE OF LUKOV’S MOTHER, ORIGINALLY A PUBLIC FIGURE BY THE NAME OF LILI MANUUR (STAGE NAME “SOL JU”) GOING MISSING WITHIN A SIMILAR TIMEFRAME. RELATIONSHIP WITH FATHER UNKNOWN, SAVE FOR THE 2011 ASSASSINATION OF MAIDANOV LUKOV BY CLAIMED ABOLITIONIST ARMY MEMBERS WITHIN THE RANKS OF THE UCNL. THERE IS ALSO EVIDENCE TO THE BELIEF THAT LUKOV IS A REHABILITATED DRUG USER. IN FOOTAGE OF HIS TIME IN CONQUERED ALBARAZIL, DURING AN INTERVIEW WITH LUKOV AND OTHER BORDER GUARDS TROOPS, THERE ARE CHARACTERISTIC MARKS ON THE FACE INCONSISTENT WITH DIRT, SCRATCHES OR SOOT. DESPITE POOR QUALITY IMAGES, THEY ARE BEST MATCHED TO HEROIN USE, LIKELY THE CAUSE OF OR EXACERBATING UNDERLYING MENTAL HEALTH CONDITIONS. DO NOT APPROACH LUKOV UNLESS ONE IS SUFFICIENTLY MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY PREPARED. LUKOV IS UNPREDICTABLE AND PRONE TO VIOLENCE, WITH A SEEMING LACK OF IMPULSE CONTROL. LUKOV IS COMBAT TRAINED, AND LIKELY SADISTIC IN PERSONALITY. FAMILY AND CURRENT STATUS LUKOV WAS BORN TO BARON MAIDANOV LUKOV AND SINGER LILI MANUUR. AS OF 2011 BOTH PARENTS ARE EITHER MISSING OR DEAD, WITH LILI DISAPPEARING FROM THE PUBLIC EYE IN 1981 TO “PURSUE MARRIAGE” TO NEVER BE SEEN AGAIN, BELIEVED TO BE DEAD. MAIDANOV DIED IN 2011, LIKELY DUE TO ACTIONS TAKEN BY LUKOV WHEN A BOMB DETONATED INSIDE MAIDANOV’S HELICOPTER. GIVEN ACCOUNTS OF LUKOV’S VIOLENCE AS A CHILD, INCLUDING BREAKING A NUN’S NECK BY PUSHING HER DOWN THE STAIRS, LUKOV HAS ALWAYS BEEN PRONE TO VIOLENCE. LIKELY EITHER DUE TO NEGLECTFUL OR ABUSIVE UPBRINGING, OR MAIDANOV AND LILI REFUSING TO BELIEVE LUKOV COULD BE SUCH A PERSON. RELATIONSHIP WITH LILI UNKNOWN, LIKELY NEGATIVE. RELATIONSHIP WITH MAIDANOV UNKNOWN, DEFINITELY NEGATIVE (SEE ‘LOCATION IN CASSADIAN POLITICS’) POLITICAL PROFILE LUKOV IS EXTERNALLY A STRONG BELIEVER IN THE CASSADIAN IDEOLOGY, POLITICAL SYSTEM AND RELIGIOUS CREED, AND IS BELIEVED TO BE CONSISTENT INTERNALLY WITH THOSE BELIEFS. HE ARDENTLY DEFENDS THE VARIOUS AUTHORITARIAN SYSTEMS IN PLACE, FROM THE LIVING PROPERTY UNIT (LPU) SYSTEM TO ENSLAVEMENT OF JEWISH PEOPLE ON RELIGIOUS GROUNDS. TO DATE, LUKOV HAS NOT MADE STATEMENTS CONTRADICTING THE CURRENT CASSADIAN IDEOLOGY, OR CHALLENGING EVEN WEAKER PARTS OF SAID IDEOLOGY. LUKOV IS ALSO AN ARDENT SUPPORTER OF RELENA, GIVEN THE TWO ARE KNOWN TO BE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS. THIS INDICATES THAT BARON LUKOV MAY ALSO HAVE A HIGHER STATION IN POLITICAL CIRCLES THAN WHAT A BARON WOULD NORMALLY RECEIVE, WHICH MAY AFFECT POLITICAL VIEWS IN BELIEVING IN THE SYSTEM. PLACE IN CASSADIAN POLITICS LUKOV IS A POWERFUL MAN WITHIN CASSADIA, EASILY ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL. FRIENDSHIP WITH RELENA, HEAD OF THE UCNL AND PUBLIC BELIEF THAT HE IS A WAR HERO, GIVEN THAT LUKOV CAN REIN IN HIS NATURE IN PUBLIC HAS MADE HIM COME A LONG WAY IN CASSADIAN POLITICS. HE IS MOST WELL-KNOWN FOR THE PURGE OF THE UCNL AFTER MAIDANOV’S DEATH, BECOMING IT’S LEADER TO THE PRESENT DAY AND OVERSEEING IT’S RESTRUCTURING AND REFORMS. THE UCNL WAS ORIGINALLY CREATED BY A HRISTOV LUKOV, GRANDFATHER TO PUNCHEV LUKOV. AS FAR AS IS KNOWN, THE TITLE OF LEADER HAS BEEN HELD BY A LUKOV FOR ALL OF IT’S HISTORY, THE TITLE OF COMMANDER BEING HEREDITARY IN NATURE. HOWEVER, MORE THAN A SUMMARY IS BEYOND THE SCOPE OF THIS ARTICLE, AND INSTEAD ONLY THE 2011 INCIDENT IS RELEVANT TO THE CURRENT FILE. IN 2011, BARON MAIDANOV LUKOV TOOK OFF FROM THE UCNL HQ IN TOPOLOVGOROD WHEN A BOMB WENT OFF IN HIS HELICOPTER, KILLING HIMSELF, AND THE FLIGHT CREW. ALTHOUGH LUKOV HAS INDICATED AN ABOLITIONIST ARMY (SEE SVRL-P-HKC-AA-2020) MEMBER WITHIN THE UCNL, ALONG WITH SEVERAL MEMBERS IN THE UPPER ECHELON OF THE UCNL, THERE IS A STRONG SUSPICION THAT THE ENTIRE INCIDENT WAS A POWER PLAY AND PURGE BY LUKOV TO CONSOLIDATE HIS HOLD ON THE UCNL. INDICATIONS INCLUDE VARIOUS HIGH LEVEL MEMBERS SEEMINGLY AVOIDING DETECTION FROM OTHER MORE DEVOUT MEMBERS WHO WERE KNOWN TO BE CLOSE WITH MAIDANOV, AND LUKOV PRESENTING A SPEECH ON THE MATTER WITHIN 20 MINUTES OF THE EXPLOSION. ALTHOUGH SUCH TOPICS HAVE NEVER COME UP IN THE CASSADIAN PUBLIC EYE, IT IS ALMOST CERTAIN THAT MAIDANOV’S DEATH WAS DIRECTLY CAUSED BY LUKOV. LUKOV HAS ALSO HELD THE SECOND MOST POWERFUL OFFICE IN CASSADIA, THE TITLE OF “MASTER OF THE ROYAL OFFICE”. IT WAS UNDER THIS POSTING THAT LUKOV COMMITTED THE “GREAT TELEVISION PURGE”, BUT HE RESIGNED DUE TO FOCUSSING ON THE UCNL ENTIRELY. LUKOV IS ALSO LIKELY TO INFLUENCE DECISIONS MADE BY RELENA, OWING TO HIS DISPROPORTIONATE SWAY WITH THE EMPRESS. GIVEN HIS CURRENT STATION, HE WOULD BE WITHIN THE UPPER ECHELON OF THE MOST POWERFUL MEN IN THE KINGDOM OF CASSADIA, WITH MANY OF THE REQUIREMENTS NECESSARY FOR BEING ABLE TO SEIZE THE THRONE. DESPITE THIS CAPABILITY, IT IS UNLIKELY THAT LUKOV WOULD ATTEMPT A COUP. SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS LUKOV IS A DISPROPORTIONATELY POWERFUL MAN WITHIN CASSADIA, WITH A HIGH PROBABILITY OF SUCCEEDING RELENA SHOULD CASSADIA COME INTO CRISIS, THE EMPRESS ABDICATES THE THRONE, OR THROUGH A COUP. HE IS COMBAT TRAINED, AND A VETERAN, POSSESSING A LIKELY FAMILIARITY WITH HAND TO HAND COMBAT AS WELL AS VARIOUS SMALL ARMS. LUKOV IS UNPREDICTABLE, WITH TENDENCIES TO VIOLENCE TO RESOLVE SITUATIONS. LUKOV IS ALSO EXPERIENCED AT INTERNAL POLITICS BOTH WITHIN THE UCNL BUT ALSO THE WIDER CASSADIAN POLITICAL SYSTEM. CONSEQUENTLY, REMOVAL OF BARON PUNCHEV LUKOV WILL LIKELY HURT THE CASSADIAN REGIME. OPPORTUNITIES FOR REMOVAL ARE SCARCE, ALTHOUGH LUKOV DOES TRAVEL OVERSEAS FROM TIME TO TIME. OPPORTUNITIES MAY PRESENT THEMSELVES TO WEAKEN THE REGIME OVERALL THROUGH REMOVAL OF SUCH A POWERFUL AND INFLUENTIAL INDIVIDUAL, OWING TO DIFFICULTIES IN REPLACING SUCH FIGURES IN MONARCHICAL REGIMES. HOWEVER, SUCH PLANS ARE PURELY THEORETICAL AND THERE IS NO CURRENT PLAN TO ASSASSINATE BARON PUNCHEV LUKOV.

Leonid then handed the dossier to Nataliya, who promptly shredded that too.
“Power plays, sociopathic tendencies, what a charming individual.” Leonid remarked dryly.
“Well, you know how it is in authoritarian hell-holes. Be quick and smart, or be dead. He’s the latter, clearly.”
“Blowing up his father, too. Interesting piece of work.”
“Excited to see him up close, then?”
“About as excited as being stuck in a pen with a hungry bear and no weapons.”
“Well, at worst it could be about a week, and then we’re home free.”
“With this… Bell Hancock?” Leonid’s question got Nataliya to tense up a fraction.
“That’s the hope, yes.”
“Tensing up from the thought of saving one girl?”
“Given the rumours about how LPU’s are treated… It’s best not to think about failure.”
“I’ve heard the rumours and reports too, but tell me… If we can’t get this Bell out…”
“I’d prefer she was shot rather than handed over to the Cassadians.” Nataliya’s voice became unusually hard and clear.
“I’m sure there’s others that also believe so.”
“Do you?”
“Given everything that will happen, the Cassadians stand to lose either way. If she’s successfully been deprogrammed and they can get her onto that plane, the only way she’s getting off is with a gunfight. If she leaves, she’ll be the first slave to ever leave the country. A leak in the system would be a blow to their prestige, as well as getting all the info we could ever need on how Cassadian slaves are treated.”
“You’ve done other reading?”
“Extracurricular work, Polsci classes. Cassadia was on a lot of minds come the Bulgarian Summer, given that they were the perpetrators.”
“What a learned man.” Nataliya commented, as the conversation died down.

Director Milojević stood in the so-called Central Intelligence Hub, a large bustling tiered room where various agents and assistants compiled data on goings on, deployments of nations of interest and other actions undertaken. The section was underground and far away from nearly any method of tapping, seeing as one would have to get through the entire SVRL HQ to even reach this place. The past two weeks had resulted in a focus of the SVRL away from Eastern Europe, with sections dedicated to Greater Dienstadt, Krillin and Gholgoth springing up in their place. The three sets of desks were osurrounded by the clattering of keys, phone calls and scribbling notes, when one agent from the gholgoth area takes a note, handing it to the Director.

HYDROPHONES IN GHOLGOTH SEA INDICATE MARQUESAN FLEET DEPLOYMENT. NO DIPLOMATIC WORD FROM MARQUESAN REGARDING SITUATION. ESCALATION LIKELY.

Milojević quickly read it, and with a nod the agent returned back to his desk. The Director then headed to the back of the room, the other agents getting out of the way to facilitate his passing, until he came to a dark-haired man quietly typing away on the keyboard, sometimes consulting the notes and files that lay all over his desk, a messy collage of raw data.
“Ignatov, status of the brief?”
“Complete, something the matter?”
“Marquesan is mobilising a fleet, Gholgoth group picked it up on civilian hydrophone. Send it off to the Marquesans.”
“No problem, Boss.”
“Excellent, I’m going to retire to my office now, contact the secretary if you get a reply.”
With a nod, the Director turned and started to head out of the room, Ignatov punching in the address and hitting enter to send it off electronically.

Code: Select all: TO: DOCTOR CLAUDE CHALIER, MINISTER OF STATE OF THE UMS SUBJECT: PALMYRIAN-AMISTAD/CASSADIAN TENSIONS, JANUARY-FEBUARY 2021 PRIORITY: ONE ENCRYPTION: LEVEL THREE INVOLVED PARTIES: PALMYRION, HOLY KINGDOM OF CASSADIA, NEW VISAYAN ISLANDS, ARCHINIA, MARQUESAN, FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF LAUZANNE, POLISH-PRUSSIAN COMMONWEALTH, LANGENIA. OVERVIEW AT 0745 HOURS ON JANUARY 2ND, 2021 A CAR BOMB WAS DETONATED IN ARAGON, PALMYRION. THE DETONATION KILLED CASSADIAN NATIONAL AND DEFECTOR ADLOPOVNA GAZGIREYEVA (AN INDIVIDUAL NOTED FOR EXPOSING CASSADIAN INTERNAL POLITICS), HER WIFE GLORIA VENTURA AND TWO CHILDREN, THOMAS AND NICHOLAS. 8 OTHER BYSTANDERS WERE KILLED AND MORE WOUNDED. AN INVESTIGATION IS STILL UNDERWAY BY MEMBERS OF THE PALMYRIAN CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE DIRECTORATE (HENCEFORTH “CID”), AN INVESTIGATING TEAM OF THE LAUZANNE FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE SERVICE (HENCEFORTH “SVRL”), AND ASSISTED BY MEMBERS OF VISAYAN INTELLIGENCE AGENCY (HENCEFORTH “VIA”). INVESTIGATION CARRIED OUT BY FIELD AGENTS SHOWS A HIGH LIKELYHOOD OF ASSASSINATION BY CASSADIAN GENERAL RECONNAISSANCE BUREAU (HENCEFORTH “GRB”). ALTHOUGH INVESTIGATION IS ONGOING, DOCUMENTS WILL BE FORWARDED TO MARQUESAN INTELLIGENCE SERVICE OF CHOICE WHEN INVESTIGATION IS CONCLUDED. HOWEVER, EVEN WITH LIMITED INTELLIGENCE OF THE SITUATION, PALMYRIAN SOURCES BLAMED GRB FOR ASSASSINATION, CITING CASSADIAN IP ADDRESSES USED BY THE ALLEGED HITMEN PRIOR TO THE ASSASSINATION, ALONG WITH EXFILTRATION BY SUBMARINE MATCHING SONAR PROFILE OF LOS-ANGELES CLASS NUCLEAR SUBMARINE, KNOWN MAINSTAY OF CASSADIAN SUB-SURFACE FLEET. IN ADDITION, GAZGIREYEVA HAD NO KNOWN HOSTILITIES WITH ANY NATION OTHER THAN CASSADIA. IN RESPONSE, PALMYRION INITIATED A ROUND OF POLITICAL INSULTS AND THREATS TOWARDS CASSADIA, TO WHICH THE CASSADIANS HAVE SINCE ATTEMPTED TO DISCREDIT EVIDENCE IMPLICATING GRB ASSETS CARRIED OUT THE MISSION. THE SITUATION HAS ESCALATED WITH CASSADIAN TEST OF NUCLEAR WARHEAD IN INTERNATIONAL WATERS, DISPLAYING CAPABILITY OF PRODUCING OR PROCURING NUCLEAR WARHEADS FOR OFFENSIVE OR DEFENSIVE MEANS. HOWEVER, SVRL HAS FOUND LITTLE MILITARY RESPONSE FROM PALMYRION SO FAR. PARTIES INVOLVED, STANCES AND ALLIANCES. AS FAR AS THE SITUATION CAN BE GLEANED, THERE CURRENTLY EXISTS THREE LARGER PARTIES, CLASSED AS: AMISTAD, ANTI-AMISTAD, AND NEUTRAL. NEUTRAL PARTIES ARE INDICATED TO EITHER BE INVOLVED WITH SMALLER ASPECTS OF THE CURRENT CASSADIA SITUATION, OR POTENTIAL TO SIDE WITH EITHER PARTY. AMISTAD AMISTAD DECLARATION ON SLAVERY AND THE RIGHTS OF MAN (HENCEFORTH “AMISTAD”) IS A POLITICAL AND MILITARY BLOC OF COUNTRIES THAT ARE ANTI-SLAVERY AND CONSIDER NATIONS THAT PRACTICE SLAVERY AS ENEMIES OF ALL MANKIND. AS PART OF THE CLAUSES REGARDING SIGNING THE DECLARATION, AMISTAD COUNTRIES ARE TO BE CONSIDERED AT WAR WITH SLAVER NATIONS DE JURE. AS OF CURRENT WRITING, THERE ARE THREE MAIN AMISTAD NATIONS THAT HAVE REACTED TO THE SITUATION: PALMYRION, ARCHINIA AND NEW VISAYAN ISLANDS. NVI AND PALMYRION HAVE RELEASED RHETORIC OF MOBILISATION, ALTHOUGH THE ONLY COUNTRY THAT HAS MOBILISED IS ARCHINIA. HOWEVER, ARCHINIA HAS SEEMINGLY TURNED AROUND TO RETURN TO BASE, INDICATING POSSIBLE DELAY IN PLANS TO MOBILISE A LARGER SCALE FORCE. ANTI-AMISTAD ANTI-AMISTAD NATIONS KNOWN INVOLVED AT THIS TIME IS CASSADIA AND LANGENIA, BOTH OF WHICH HAVE RELEASED PUBLIC STATEMENTS. EXTENT OF LANGENIAN INVOLVEMENT UNKNOWN, HOWEVER CASSADIA HAS DEMONSTRATED NUCLEAR CAPABILITY AS DETERRENT. CURRENT NUCLEAR STOCKPILE ESTIMATED AT 200~ WARHEADS, UNKNOWN DELIVERY METHODS. MOREOVER, OTHER NATIONS HISTORICALLY OPPOSED TO AMISTAD LIKELY TO CLOSE RANKS AROUND CASSADIA AND FORM AD-HOC ALLIANCE. NEUTRAL CURRENTLY LAUZANNE, POLISH-PRUSSIAN COMMONWEALTH, TURTLESHROOM AND MARQUESAN ARE CONSIDERED NEUTRAL STATES. TURTLESHROOM HAS EXPRESSED A DESIRE FOR CASSADIA TO BE DESTROYED BUT HAS MADE NO MOTIONS TO DO SO, MARQUESAN IS CURRENTLY UNINVOLVED POLITICALLY BUT IS ESCORTING UNFINISHED BATTLECRUISER HULLS OF THE “NIMROD-II CLASS” IN ORDER TO PROTECT FROM POSSIBLE AMISTAD ACTION. POLISH-PRUSSIAN COMMONWEALTH IS REMOVING DIPLOMATIC STAFF FROM CASSADIAN CAPITAL WITH POTENTIAL FOR A STAND-OFF WITH CASSADIAN INTERNAL SECURITY FORCES OVER LIVING PROPERTY UNIT (LPU) KNOWN AS BELL HANCOCK. BRIEF CAN BE PROVIDED ON REQUEST. LAUZANNE HAS MADE NO STATEMENTS FOR OR AGAINST CASSADIA, OWING TO LIMITED RESOURCES AND OVERSEAS DEPLOYMENT CAPABILITY. SVRL INVESTIGATING CAR-BOMBING ASSASSINATION AND SENDING DIPLOMATIC STAFF TO OVERSEE POLISH-PRUSSIAN DIPLOMATIC STAFF’S SAFE TRANSFER HOME. SVRL ALSO MONITORING WARTIME SITUATION THROUGH MEANS OF CIVILIAN HYDROPHONES AND OPEN SOURCE INTELLIGENCE. ASSESSMENT OF SITUATION SITUATION IS CONSIDERED DELICATE, CHANCE OF ESCALATION RANKED AS [U]HIGH[/U]. STEPS MUST BE TAKEN TO ENSURE DE-ESCALATION OF SITUATION AND GATHERING OF MORE DETAILED INFORMATION RE: NATIONAL OUTLOOKS, ASSESSMENTS OF ARMED FORCES AND READINESS, STATEMENTS, PAST INFORMATION AND KNOWN DEALINGS. SPECIAL ATTENTION MUST BE PAID TO POTENTIAL CASSADIAN MILITARY ALLIES, LIKELY COMMUNICATING IN SECRET. MARQUESAN STATES HOLDS BALANCE OF POWER, DESPITE WARS IN GHOLGOTH REGION. SITUATION HAS ONE OF FOUR LIKELY OUTCOMES. OUTCOME ONE: MAJOR WAR LARGEST AND MOST DEVASTATING OPTION FOR ALL PARTICIPATING NATIONS. USE OF NUCLEAR ARMS LIKELY, AND INVOLVEMENT OF MORE NATIONS. LIKELY TO ESCALATE TO INTER-REGIONAL WAR, CASUALTIES ESTIMATED IN TENS OF MILLIONS CONSERVATIVELY. LEAST FAVOURABLE OPTION, LARGEST COST OF HUMAN LIFE. [B][U]AVOID AT ALL COSTS[/B][/U] OUTCOME TWO: LIMITED WAR MORE LIKELY OUTCOME FOLLOWING HOSTILE RHETORIC FROM BOTH SIDES. LIKELY PLACES FOR LIMITED WAR INCLUDE CONQUERED ALBARAZIL, AND PALMYRIAN OVERSEAS TERRITORIES. CHARACTERISED BY NAVAL COMBAT, LOSS OF CIVILIAN LIFE THEORISED TO BE MINIMAL. AVOID IF POSSIBLE. OUTCOME THREE: PEACE TALKS OUTCOME THREE RELIES ON ALL PARTIES BEING WILLING TO TALK, AND NEUTRAL LOCATION TO HOLD IT IN. RASELAN HALL IN LAUZANNE CONSIDERED A CANDIDATE FOR HOSTING PEACE TALKS, PROTECTED BY LAUZANNE ARMY AND FORESTRY GUARDS ASSETS, SUPPORTED BY SOF QRF. MAJOR CONFLICT IS AVERTED, BUT OUTCOME FOUR MAY STILL RESULT. OUTCOME FOUR: COLD WAR/BLACK OPERATIONS LIKELY RESULT IF WAR DOES NOT BREAK OUT, PALMYRION AND AMISTAD LIKELY TO TARGET CASSADIA THROUGH INDIRECT MEANS. MOST LIKELY METHOD IS TARGETING OF RUMOURED CASSADIAN BLACK MARKET NETWORKS AS WELL AS THE CONQUERED TERRITORY OF ALBARAZIL, CONSIDERED THE LARGEST SUPPLIER OF CASSADIAN OIL. GRB LIKELY TO CARRY OUT SABOTAGE, ESPIONAGE AND ASSASSINATION MISSIONS IN PALMYRION AND COLONIES, LIKELY SUPPORTING INSURGENCIES. MOST LIKELY EVEN WITHOUT OUTCOME THREE. EACH OUTCOME IS LIKELY, HOWEVER MARQUESAN INVOLVEMENT PRESENTS LARGE OPPORTUNITY TO WEIGHT EVENTS TOWARDS OUTCOME THREE. SVRL AND MARQUESAN FOREIGN MINISTRY CO-OPERATION CAN DE-ESCALATE SITUATION AND INITIATE PEACE TALKS. SUMMARY COMMUNICATION AND SHARING OF INFORMATION WITH MARQUESAN COUNTERPARTS VITAL TO AVOID LARGE-SCALE WARFARE. TO THIS END, SVRL WILLING TO SEND OPERATIVE TO UNION OF MARQUESAN STATES TO FACILITATE STREAMLINED INTELLIGENCE SHARING. HOWEVER, ACTIONS WILL BE DOWN TO MARQUESAN DISCRETION, HOWEVER SVRL AND LAUZANNE MINISTRY OF FOREIGN RELATIONS WILL ATTEMPT PEACE TALKS REGARDLESS.

“Godspeed, I spent hours on your dry ass.” Ignatov commented, leaning back in his seat.

by **Brettenwald** » Wed Feb 17, 2021 10:58 am

Imperial Foreign Ministry - Audenlandsministeriat Imperialiis
Official Statement

The recent assassination of Adlopovna Gazgireyeva deeply concerns the Ministry and the Crown as a signal that enemies of free speech, thought and expression lie in wait to strike at all times. While we neither agree or disagree with Mrs. Gazgireyeva's lifestyle choices, the brazen murder of her wife and children in addition to her is a moral outrage. On the topic of moral outrage, the Ministry wishes to remind the more vocal signatories to the Amistad Declaration that the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia is a legitimate, sovereign state, the Crown recognizes it as such, and that the Holy Kingdom has the right to conduct its affairs as it sees fit including engaging in the practice of slavery.

While the Crown unequivocally condemns said practice, it views the declaration of war contained within the Amistad Declaration as a self-congratulatory power play that infringes upon the rights of non-signatory states. In conclusion, the Ministry and Crown hereby call for calm on all sides of this brewing conflict, state that the Empire will remain neutral if said conflict escalates into a military situation but will not hesitate to defend herself against foreign aggression if necessary, and state that the Empire will be willing to host diplomatic negotiations if neutral ground is required.

-The Hon. Adalrik Morvan, Foreign Minister
-HM Emp. Thomas IV Cärrino

The bit about maintaining neutrality was, Garda boss Arlyn Torrensohn reflected with a sardonic smile from his overstuffed leather desk chair, complete horseshit. Nobody necessarily had to know that, of course, apart from His Majesty and himself, least of all the public. Adalrik probably didn't, but then again maybe he did. HM liked to keep his bases covered, and if he was suspiciously nice to any Cassadian diplomats he'd probably know for sure. Kill 'em with kindness and keep their minds from straying to places they shouldn't, that was Adalrik. Despite looking and generally acting like any other overweight, avuncular, aristocratic diplomat with a cushy job and a fat pension lined up, the man had a damned sharp mind and a practically infallible set of instincts. Should have joined the Agency instead of ForMin, he'd have made a great operative, but maybe his son would be interested eventually. Adalrik Junior certainly showed promise.

Rrring. Hotline. Usually nothing, sometimes good, rarely bad. "Your Majesty." HM coughed. "Sorry. Might be allergic to Marco's blasted dog. Anyway, Arlyn, you should have gotten the statement we made on this Gaz-however the fuck you pronounce it, I don't give half a damn, the Cassadian woman in the car bombing by now." Indeed he had. "And I'm sure you're aware that we are not in fact neutral, what your orders are, who you're going to contact, and what you're going to tell them." Yes, Your Majesty, he was. "Good. Brief me once everything's set in motion and keep me updated after. This could get tricky to manage, but if we can pull this off it means the slaver scum get a nice fat black eye on the world stage and we get to keep our hands sparkling clean officially." Tricky to manage was something of an understatement. "Indeed. I'll not delay you, then. Tell your kids your boss is sorry for keeping Daddy at work late." Thank you, Your Majesty, he would. Click, and... breathe. HM could be surprisingly friendly once he got to know you, but he still scared the hell out of him sometimes. Anyway, back to work. Where in damnation had his good pen gone?

Code: Select all: To: The Foreign Minister of Prussia-Poland From: A.T. Subject: The Cassadian Situation Encryption: Alpha [for your eyes only, destroy after memorizing] Your Excellency, I hope this letter finds you well. I represent the Empire of Brettenwald, and the government & I are keeping a close eye on the diplomatic storm brewing between your country and the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia. We have officially declared neutrality, however this is merely a ruse. Any intelligence you can share with us would be greatly appreciated, as we do not currently have any agents on the ground in Cassadia. Please rest assured that we are on your side. If you have any doubts as to the legitimacy of this communique, HM the Emperor will be happy to confirm for you that I am working under his direct orders. Sincerely, AT

That should do the trick, Torrensohn thought grimly before entering the intranet protocols, typing "/send", and hitting Enter. Langenia wasn't his problem, thank the gods. This project was going to be a real bitch to balance, given that he and Adalrik were essentially being asked to play hacky-sack with two live hand grenades, but it'd be worth it in the end.

by **Aureumterra III** » Wed Feb 17, 2021 3:53 pm

Heiðrakorunu Estate
Heiðrakorunu Estate was one of the Imperial family’s many countryside estates, a sprawling expanse in the far North of the country, glacial mountains could be seen on the horizon. The property was given to the House of Ålta by a prominent noble family in the 18th century. Initially no more than a hunting lodge and grounds to inspect troops, the property since transformed into what essentially could be called an outdoors palace, complete with sprawling chateaus, and acres of natural land to breathe in.

On the road leading up to the main house of the estate was a group of equestrians approaching the large, gate-like doors. At the head of the group was a tall, young man who carried himself straight and in a disciplined, somewhat dignified manner. Emperor Frederik IV had taken the throne of the Empire less than one year ago, after witnessing his mother’s death at the hands of insurgent separatists. His sudden rise left him shocked and unprepared, and the trauma of such a sudden series of events still haunted him to this day. As such, he was largely unprepared to take on the duty and responsibility of ruling the vast empire, but he continued valuing advice and attempting his best. An intensely private figure, he preferred retreating to his many estates and kept public appearances at a minimum.

To his right was the Chief of the Keisaravörður, the Imperial Guard, Heinrik Fjoltsson. He was a strict Imperial loyalist and a man who had been handpicked to his post by Frederik’s mother, Empress Lisette. Growing up, Frederik looked to Fjoltsson almost as a father-figure, following the disgracement of his actual father when he was extremely young. As such, he grew up with a deep respect and admiration for the man, who in return, now had the powerful ear of the Aureumterrese Emperor. As a nobleman, he had significant sway over large parts of the Aureumterrese government, despite being able to be overridden by the Emperor. However, he did see Frederik almost like his own son, partly due to him not having any children, and it was not an overstatement to say the two had a bond similar to that of a father and the son. Rather than sitting in a conference room or office, the two were discussing matters of state on a horse ride around the vast estate.

The Keisaravörður also maintained the country’s intelligence agency, which not only spied on foreign countries, but also on the Aureumterrese army to stamp out dissent and keep the military and its noble leadership loyal to the crown and the Emperor. It was this role that brought the recent events of Cassadia to the attention of the Aureumterrese crown, as was being discussed by the Emperor and Fjoltsson,

"I do not see anything wrong with the country cleansing itself of these subversive elements, whom seek to endanger the natural order of the world." Frederik remarked, commenting on the assassination of the lesbian activist whom originated from Cassadia, echoing his extremely traditionalist education and upbringing. "The international condemnation of this moral action only shows as evidence to the destruction of morality in the world."

"We must tread carefully here, Frederik." Fjoltsson replied, in a manner that was not afforded to anyone outside the Imperial family, addressing the Emperor by his name. "Cassadia certainly has… baggage, to say the least."

"Oh you mean the usual trope, "human rights abuses, illiberalism" and all that? All I see is a nation that has resisted the subversive postmodernist ideology." Frederik replied, as the pair strode into a large orchard just in front of the main chateau.

"More than that. Cassadia has legal serfdom, of course part of the natural order of things includes those who are, by blood, inferior to those favored. However, serfdom has largely gone out of favor even in the most righteous countries."

"Yet they are treated better than how most people in "liberal democracies" are." Frederik replied, once again displaying his traditionalist stubbornness. "Our nation is not too different from theirs, we are one of the few who have resisted the tide of postmodernism, we have been hit with World Assembly sanctions, yet our vast empire and our devotion to the fatherland has alleviated their effects. We cannot let yet another country fall victim to the encroachments of this cultural destruction."

"More and more countries have been condemning them, Frederik, listen, you should think it through before you make any bold decisions. It would be unfortunate for Cassadia to fall victim to neoliberal postmodernism, but you have been ordained by God himself to lead Aureumterra, and in the end, you must preserve this land before all else." Fjoltsson remarked as the pair and their entourage pulled up in front of the chateau.

Frederik simply nodded, "I shall do what I believe is rightful." he remarked as he dismounted the horse. An attendant quickly came up and took his coat, and Imperial Guards snapped to a salute. He turned to Fjoltsson before entering the palace, "Keep the Keisaravörður alert. We may have an operation of some sort soon, Heinrik. Have a safe flight to Potens, I shall see you there in a few days." the Emperor finished. Fjoltsson bowed, and began his way towards the hangar which essentially served as a private airport for the estate.

Frederik then walked to his office in the estate, and sat down at his desk. He was ruminating over the situation when he felt a hand on his shoulders, looking up to see his sister, Princess Christina. "At least let me know when you come in, please don’t do that." He said.

"Oh, sorry, where are my manners?" She quickly curtsied, as was customary when engaging with the Emperor no matter ones own relation to them. "Frederik, I’m sure you are following the events of the world, regarding the situation in Cassadia."

"I definitely am, in fact, I was speaking to Heinrik about it just now." he replied.

"It certainly is worrying… the thought of another country submitting to the ever growing forces of evil." Christina continued, "If this continues, we may end up being a pariah state… or worse even so. You certainly don’t have time for literature, with your duties, but I have been reading the accounts of the French Revolution. Just the thought of having… our heads on the chopping block-"

She was promptly cut off by her brother, "You think too much of this. Our empire has held strong for nearly a millennia now, our house is chosen by God himself to lead this country. Those who do not submit to His will are punished severely."

Christina shook her head, "I don’t know… maybe those officers in the army are somewhat right, maybe the times are changing-" she was once again cut off

"How could you even contemplate that, Christina? You are a learned woman, you know that that the natural order that has always intended for this world holds true."

"I think you’re right. Maybe I am reading too much into the situation." She conceded. "Very well then, I will leave you to your duties now. Good night." She said, leaving the office.

"Good night." Frederik responded as he pulled out a sheet of paper and penned a letter to the Office of the Cassadian Empress, to be delivered via the Aureumterrese embassy in Carthage as soon as possible.

The Crown of the Aureumterrese Empire

Empress,

I hope the time finds you and your country well. It has come to the attention of the Aureumterrese Empire that the subversive forces of globalism and Marxism have begun plotting against the righteous Empire of Cassadia. The wings of postmodernism have held the entire world captive, with our nations being the last few bastions of morality and righteousness.

I inform you that the Empire of Aureumterra stands in solidarity with the Cassadian Empire. Our nations share a common purpose in restoring decency and morality to the increasingly Godless world. With the rise of liberalism and internationalist forces, pushing their hostile ideas of sapphism, it is more important than ever for the legitimate nations of the world to stand together.

Though we may be of a different Church, our fight is one and the same. With an increasingly hostile world, one which seeks to upturn the natural order of the world as God intended it, it is imperative that we co-operate in matters of statecraft.

Therefore, it would be excellent if representatives of the Cassadian and Aureumterran governments would meet, at a time at your majesty’s government’s convenience.

My prayers are with your nation in its moral quest, may God be with us.

Signed,
HIM Frederik IV, Emperor of Aureumterra, Mesopotamia, Middelafrika, and Cuba, Grand Marshal of the Aureumterrese Armed Forces, Supreme Commander of the Keisarvorður

by **Qassadia** » Fri Feb 19, 2021 3:41 pm

Naval Command, General Staff GHQ (Admiralty)
Carthage, Holy Kingdom of Cassadia

'' You're telling me that, there has been a detected movement of submarine activity coming from McNernia?'' Curiously queried Schneizel Doenitz to a, younger and obviously less experienced officer that served him as an Aide de camp.

''Positive Admiral, our colleagues from the GRB passed to us this IMINT intelligence they themselves received from the Marquesans.''

''And what makes you think that it's not in their interests to have our country be thrown into a collision with this *Kingdom of Archinia*?'' Queried Admiral Schneizel to the man. To which the aspirant officer moved his eyes to the corner, gauging his memory.

''The intelligence we received was not dated in the slightest sir, in fact, the GRB said that it corroborated this piece of intelligence with hydrophone data, and compared it to the images. They assessed that the IMINT intel was genuine.'' The younger aid responded, his voice slow, his words deliberate.

Admiral Schneizel Doenitz looked despondent, he was not a man who appreciated surprises -- not when it meant having to needlessly order the dispersion of further resources that would be required of getting more vessels out at sea, to scour the depths of the oceans for a threat that may or may not come. At this, he put down his glasses on a computer keyboard before laying back in his chair. The admiral rolled down his eyes, deep in thought.

''Have the Marquesans commented anything further on this piece of intelligence.'' Asked Schneizel, as he ran his palm through his hair.

''Most recent observation of the specific facilities in question that saw the deployment of said submarine force has appeared to have returned to port Admiral, our colleagues have also said they committed Sattelite-reconnaissance assets to verify the claims of the Marquesans -- this IMINT intel has was taken only yesterday.'' The Aide-de-camp answered, putting a forward which he had masked behind his back, up until this moment. He stepped forward, putting forward a folder that contained several other photos, which were different from the ones, that his superior had scrutinized earlier. He pushed the folder to slide across the desk, reaching the Admiral's hands, to which he opened the folder and took the photos in his hand, putting on his glasses to better scrutinize the photos and the contents it contained. Schneizel twinkled as he squinted the date on which these images were taken.

''Has Her Majesty been notified that the Archnian submarines have turned course and returned to port?'' Inquired Admiral Schneizel as he lowered the black-on-white photos, there view of his aide standing still at attention, returning.

''The Empress has commented that she does not believe it to be the case, Sir,'' Said the aspirant officer.'' Her Majesty believes it to be a ploy of the Archinians, to deceive us into letting our guard down.'' The aid added.

''Hmm, it is still a compelling case nonetheless -- if the Archinians have demonstrated such hostile overtures to us than even the Visayans, then there is no doubt that they can risk staging a pre-emptive strike on our country.'' The Admiral said,'' But....'' He added.'' I would not like to be the one that has to account for over-expending DoD resources, because of all the ships and subs we would need to put out at sea to patrol the waters of Krillin and beyond to the South for the next half-a-year.''

Schneizel, inclined as he folded his resting arms on the table, mouth agape as he discerned his next course of action.'' Inform Her Majesty that I'll have the 2nd and 3rd Fleet continue their deployment at sea, now that the exercises have been wrapped up. The Navy will furthermore deploy additional surface and underwater assets for long-ranged patrols as well as mobilizing a substantial portion of our ASW capabilities.'' Schneizel Doenitz ordered of his underling.

'' As you command Admiral.'' The officer-aspirant saluted, clicking with the heels of his jackboots as he turned tail and headed out of his office.

Naval Operations
South Sch'gori Sea

It was freezing on the high waters of the South Sche'gori, with a large cloud bank moving across the region. Rather than a violent storm with heavy winds and lightning, it was more or less just a constant downpour of snow, luckily for the Navy. The rains would conceal Zorstrev's docks from satellite reconnaissance, enabling a squadron of Ticonderoga-class cruisers and escort element of Oliver-Hazzard Perry ''long hull'' frigates to leave port unnoticed. Planners also took into account the fact that after the storm passed, satellites would be able to see there were fewer ships: a destroyer squadron identical in composition to the one that had just left was sailing along the eastern part of the Cassadian homeland towards the approaches of to the North Sche'gori sea and its channel that separated the High-Countries of Belguard, Oackle and the Paencor Confederacy and Northern Cassadia, to take its place.

Submarines, concealed under the thick reinforced shells of steel and reinforced concrete, left their monolithic holding sites, submerged and concealed beneath the waves.

The 3rd Fleet in Cassadian waters was stirring. A full BARCAP was established around the fleet, with a full complement of fighters and electronic attack aircraft, all of the variants of the A-4M Skyhawks, as well as naval AWACS. The fleet's destroyer escort and missile cruisers activated their air defense radars and launched small drones to plot out potential areas from which directions and areas, potential underwater activity from submarines may come. Frigates deployed their towed sonars and launched helicopters equipped with sonobuoys and torpedoes in what was simulated anti-submarine warfare operations.

Rear-Admiral Dan Kolov delegated the details of these operations to his subordinates. He was more concerned with sustaining a deployment so far from home. "We're almost half a dozen thousand kilometers away from home, much less the rock that is Kioloros," he told his staff in a private meeting. "If it comes to war with the Amistad over this storm in a teacup, then they could simply overwhelm us both from friendly forces from mainland our own territories.''

Department of Foreign Affairs

The whiff of a cigar slowly rose through the air, Sergei Lavrov took the piece of tobacco at the end of the as he puffed it until the pleasant taste of tobacco set its presence in his mouth. Getting himself comfortable, the man who was the deputy to the Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs, the scrawny-faced, little full Deputy Secretary Sergei Lavrov had himself comfortable on the expensive couch that so nicely furnished the office of his colleague, Joachim Von Ribbentrop.

Sergei thought little of the man, he was a mediocre bureaucrat at best. At worst, Sergei imagined Joachim to be a closeted vile opportunist who wanted to advance his material wellbeing. Though, he would lie if that was not more or less, the motivation of many people. Since having any kind of anti-corruption efforts was swung around as administrative and legal weapons to settle scores -- after all, everyone could get away with it so long as not a single dime of the Crown-Government was touched, anything beyond that was fair game, from engaging in nepotism to taking bribes.

Maybe, Lukov should have gone after the whole Crown-Government, the way I see it.

His pleasant indulgence of tobacco will be cut short by the entry of Slavya, as a slight creak of the heavy mahogany double-door opened to reveal a tall, blue-eyed woman dressed in an immaculate white two-piece pantsuit, standing at 5’7 with a slim violin-shaped curvy figure with gold blond hair which was done in two braids that dropped down to her waist. She was pretty secretary to Joachim boasted in private meetings of how he so adulterously admired her pear-shaped breasts, the hay blonde long braided pigtails, her round bum, and supple delicate violin-shaped hourglass figure. At this Sergei rolled to sit straight on the couch, taking the cigar out of his mouth, before releasing a thick puff of smoke.

'' What still brings you here my dear, the workday is almost over?'' He asked.

'' I am sorry to disturb you, Your Excellency, but we just received word from the Foreign Ministry of the...The Republic of Lauzanne. It's a request from them to send along two diplomatic observers to oversee the evacuation of the General Consulate of the Polish-Prussian Commonwealth. They're looking if we can have our department approve their application on brief notice.'' The pretty woman said, crossing legs one in front of the other as she did a curtsy out of etiquette.

''Then, have it approved. I am not sure why these people are raising such a considerable fuss over one embassy being temporarily dissolved for the time being, because of our ongoing tensions with Amistad.''

''Well sir, there have been rumors swirling around the department that the Poles could try to smuggle her out of the country, considering that Baron Lukov himself has become involved personally on the matter by warning the ambassador in person about our laws in trying to even attempt at the theft of...living property,'' Slavya explained, her tone becoming hesitant at the end -- her husband, Svetoslav was a Legionnaire.

''I don't think I even need to tell you about the fact of some foreigner scheming to steal LPU, much less any outlander involved in diplomatic work -- ambassadors especially. You know something dear; Back when I was just a lad, and the Americans still had inconsiderable, substantial investments in our country, in pretty much every industry, sector, and large-scale enterprise, even the Americans were conscious enough to not attempt to try to stir up our pot or meddle in our affairs.'' Sergei proclaimed with a nostalgic bent in his tone, taking up his cigar as he profusely smoked out most of the tobacco. Mouth agape, he exhaled a thick haze of smoke which got to Slavya to nearly choke a cough.

Sergei continued,'' there were a couple of incidents though, several such personalities thought that because they had the cover of being in our country under a legitimate pretext, gave them the ability to do anything they could want...up to and including trying to smuggle LPUs out. However, the institutions did not intervene when the property owners foiled their plots, they did not even hand them over to the authorities *chuckles*. The LPU owners simply chopped them to pieces and just mailed the body parts to their families. With a note attached to each bag, of the wages of the crime that they brought upon themselves''

Slavya shivered, as the tall figure stood up at full height, herself standing at five foot nine, dwarfing her under his imposing stature of Sergei Lavrov, the Deputy Secretary of Foreign Affairs who measured at six feet and five inches in height.

''Anyways,'' Said Lavrov as he fixed up his shirt, which he tucked in his pants,'' I'll expect you to draft me the communique for approval, and I want it in ten minutes.'' The man ordered, before taking a stride over to the chair behind the Partner's desk to retrieve his suit jacket, before leaning down to turn on his colleague's computer. Slavya would have gone out of the room if it wasn't because her superior would impersonate the man she has so doggedly pursued to obtain this promotion to work for one of the few men with power in this country.

''I'll let Joachim know about it, he should not be in any deliberations with the Germans right now, as far as the time zone and usual program they would prepare for him.'' Sergei commented nonchalantly, not needing to guess her bewilderment.'' Now go and tell those in the Overseas Communication Sub-department to draft me a response, will you dear!'' Exclaimed the man in a commanding tone.

Slavya shrugged the comment before she bowed and scurried off to do her superior. Thinking to herself her displeasure of having to be around so much testosterone all day.

Men.

Office Of The Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs

Recipient: Director of the Department of Foreign Relations Dmitar Marković
Sender: Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs
Subject: Particular recent event
Encryption: Highest

Your Excellency,

I hope that all is well for you at this time, for your country, administration, and yourself.

First: Security will be provided by the Carthage Constantable Department under the Royal Department of Public Security as well as uniformed officers from the Royal National Guard. It is the wish and obligations and promise of my government that our capital is very safe as it ranks in the last ranking among most international accredited organizations that track for violent or petty crime. The Crown-Government is also proud of the fact that there have been no examples of any significant civil unrest within the last fifty years, and thus, it is the wish of Cassadia that placing your trust in our law enforcement to guarantee the safety of your delegation is the safest and rational course.

The designated landing has been arranged at Charles (VII) Von Peacekraft International Airport, and the motorcade is to be escorted from there to the hotel where your people shall be provided for, at our government’s expense, with what we hope will be suitable accommodation.

Second: Your officials are to be placed at the Four Seasons Hotel, which is within eleven blocks of the Royal Palace and twenty-one from the Royal Department of Foreign Affairs. Your senior delegates are to have, on Her Majesty's hospitality, each Royal Marlborough Suite. Your senior officials and bodyguards will be provided with Deluxe Suites. We hope this will be acceptable.

A team of Foreign Affairs Department officials shall receive you once you land. To end this on a final note, we of Her Majesty's Crown-Government would enjoy your stay in our humble, but warm and hospitable Kingdom.

I Have The Honor To Be,
Joachim Von Ribbentrop

by **McNernia** » Fri Feb 19, 2021 7:17 pm

OOC: Note the submarines are not an explict import more buy the designs and outfit them with Archinian tech slash modify.
Admiralty, Cathcride
Office of the Chief of Western Sub Ops

The Victorian palace and the modern clashed well in the eyes of the Admiral who was waiting for a phone call. The issue was the man in command of the Task force. A special command sent up to deal with a specific threat and the threat of Cassidia was a clear and present danger to the realm. The Admiralty plaza was quiet and having acess to the servers and such was a good thing to plan. The Home fleet accounted for all submarines alotted to TF Morrigan. The Old Gods imported through trade with the distant Emerald isle held respect here.

The man was bucking for Fleet Admiral real bad. Indeed the whole military was wanting escalation. There had been and order for all submarines to be recalled and the Western Home Fleet was equipped with a lot of nuclear boats. More in common with the Akula or the Alpha in terms of interception. Rather than the long runners who were out based on the Seawolf Los Angles, Astute and Virginia. The Western Home was the ones that would be there to deal with the forthcoming response. The surface ships were ordered to stand-down. It was a long way to run from the edge of the Archinian continental shelf past the Remurian subcontinent then out onto the Interregional ocean.

Looking at the most recent reports from the SAT Department at ONI there was a definite sign that there was the Cassidians on the move. They would probably find nothing for the most part because all the submarines were in harbor and the Palmyrions were quiet. The Amistad treaty was explicit there would be a conflict and maybe not the grand war of wolfpacks sending slaving wretches to the bottom but the war may come yet…and yet war was tragic. Best to wait. All was in a port.

In Cathcride
Prime Ministers Residence
Taking Questions from the Media in a livestream there Leftists as well as the right. CCL was the preference. State run and they were declared a major thorn in the side of independent media as the Government was considered to be cracking down on disinformation. No regulations were passed, yet. The fact was that there was a concern about Cassidia causing terrorism.

“Mr Prime Minister, do you feel that the Constitution will be produced by the end of the year?”

“Yes and I feel that the Early voting will be able to have the election in accounted for in time for preparations for a formal constitution next Year. It is my hope that conflict can be avoided…”

“Isnt Amistad explicit. We must oppose slavers?”

“It is but there are alternatives to conventional war as you all well know.”

“Will those be implemented or will the desire for conflict within the Officer corps win out?”

“I don’t know where you heard that….I will ensure that all options with regards to Cassidia short of war are used, that includes diplomacy. We will make sure that in coordination with our allies we are doing our utmost short of war.”

“Is it true that Ghologth is mobilizing?”

“No further questions…”

by **Palmyrion** » Sat Feb 20, 2021 8:07 am

Let your country control your mind! (Let your country control your soul!)

Palmyrion had stayed silent since its scathing DSA press release almost three weeks back, a nation still attempting to bring itself up from its knees as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic. It was a nation fighting a bloody invasion of attrition in New Sandau, and insurgencies in Frojo and Vekta surging as a result of the said pandemic. Thus its warfighting capabilities were only saved from impairment by massive funding from the Marshite Church...and astronomical amounts of debt.

An invasion of Cassadia, maybe even something as small as limited war, would only strain Palmyrion's war chest further. Even the preparations for a major or limited war would strain Palmyrion's war chest, taxed as it was to the hilt by a bloody war in distant lands and rising insurgencies in its overseas territories.

But that military silence only fed to Palmyrion's intentions of feigning weakness while holding strength, of feigning madness while keeping its balance. Military power wasn't the only power available to Palmyrion; of the many powers it had superiority in compared to Cassadia, among them were economic and socio-cultural power, on top of the geopolitical prestige being an Amistad signatory brought to it. Palmyrian culture - dance, music, cuisine, even its liberal social morality - was fast spreading across the world, brought about by its trade routes, expatriates, and (in the case of Frojo and Vekta) even its wholesale conquest of other lands.

It was on her economic, social, cultural, and geopolitical power that Palmyrion's market-state complex would capitalise to make some noise against the Cassadians after that DSA press release. The arts and entertainment industry was, to many analysts both critical and supportive of the Palmyrian regime, fast becoming the "13th vital industry" of the Royal Commonwealth, a means for the state to collaborate with the market on investing its socio-cultural capital by means of, among others, large-scale social engineering.

Feign madness, but keep your balance.

—Sun Tzu

A Palmyrian Army drill sergeant, dubbed Sergeant Bloodyhare, appears on the television screen. It then switches to soldiers in Royal Cassadian Ground Forces uniform and equipment breaching the front door of the house, pointing guns at everyone in the house, and causing property destruction.

"The Cassadian slavers are at our door!"

The screen zooms to a crowbar beside a 20 rack of Bloody Hare, still unconsumed.

"What do you have? A crowbar and some Bloody Hare? That's good enough! Now take the fight to the Cassadians with a crowbar and some Bloody Hare!"

A stereotypical Palmyrian gamer chugs a 330mL can of Bloody Hare, and grabs the crowbar before saying "Let's rock!" and proceeding to brutally bludgeon the Cassadian soldiers with his crowbar to the tune of an upbeat rock tune.

The screen switches to the drill sergeant, this time with a 330mL can of Bloody Hare in his left hand.

"Bloody Hare energy drink!" said the drill sergeant as he drew the can nearer to the camera.

"The official energy drink of the Armed Forces of Palmyrion! Buy a 20 rack now for a discounted price, and get ready to kick some slaver arse!" he said as footage of the same gamer wreaking havoc in Carthage, brutally bludgeoning Cassadian soldiers, and freeing slaves plays.

"A significant proportion of Bloody Hare's proceeds will go to directly funding anti-slavery operations. Death to the slaver."

Per DTI Permit No. 81293, series of 2021.

The screen shows a horde of Cassadian soldiers dressed typically of the Cassadian Army, with flags of Cassadia flying on tall flagpoles.

"The Cassadians amass at our door to threaten and destroy our liberty and sovereignty." sounded a 1940s voiceover.

The Cassadian horde is shown to be torching Aragon and killing Palmyrians with wanton indiscrimination. Women are seen being seized by Cassadian soldiers and taken to alleys and rooms, a scene heavily implying gang rape. Men are seen being auctioned online at Cassadian slave markets.

"They seek to lay waste to our nation, rob our national patriomony, press our men into hard labour, and our women into sex slavery."

The city of Aragon is set ablaze, people running away from the Cassadian rampage; all of a sudden the superhero and superheroine mascots of De Leon Armoury, Kordite Arms, and Arsenal Tiglao land in a highway superhero-style, accompanied by De Leon, Tiglao, and Kordite personnel in Palmyrianb Army FRACPAT uniforms who start to distribute De Leon Armoury, Kordite Arms, and Arsenal Tiglao products to the Palmyrians fleeing the Cassadians.

"But fear not! We at De Leon Armoury, Kordite Arms, and Arsenal Tiglao are here to help you take the fight to the Cassadian horde!"

The Palmyrians crowd around the superhero and superheroine mascots of the arms companies as the superheroes, superheroines and company personnel distribute the companies' weapons and gear.

"You need it? We have it!"

The screen starts to switch between weapons in the companies' product listing.

"Shotguns! Handguns! Submachine guns! Rifles! Even artillery pieces!"

The screen shows an armoury full of De Leon, Kordite, and Tiglao produced small arms and ammunition.

"Buy in bulk and avail of discounted prices! Get your little friend now and tell the Cassadians to come get some and say hello to it!"

The screen depicts a battle between the Cassadian horde and the armed Palmyrians, the company mascots leading the charge, with the Palmyrians utterly defeating the Cassadians. It switches to an Arsenal Tiglao-produced howitzer being loaded with a 155mm nuclear shell; standing beside it is a Palmyrian man in a battle-tattered suit and tie with a Kordite Arms QRX Personal Defence Weapon on a single-point sling hanging from his neck and holding a howitzer firing lanyard.

"Say hello to my little friend!" says the Palmyrian man as he pulls the howitzer lanyard and sends the 155mm nuclear shell to a depiction of Carthage. The shell's nuclear explosion fills the screen with a white flash.

"A significant proportion of De Leon's, Kordite's, and Tiglao's proceeds will go to directly funding anti-slavery operations. Death to the slaver."

Per DTI Permit No. 81294, series of 2021.

by **South Reinkalistan** » Sat Feb 20, 2021 7:42 pm

PartyHeadquarters
Central Turaniskidak

Meeting Room C
6:00 PM

If there was one thing General Secretary Turaniski hated beyond all else, it was meetings. An odd thing for him to despise, considering his profession as a statesman, and something that made his life quite unbearable at times. But duty called, and a serious matter was afoot. Sighing as he lowered himself into his chair at the head of the table, he looked at the various figures around him. There was, of course, Lakersk Turnov, Exterior Commissar and his closest friend - at least, as close as one could get in the P.F.R.'s government - seated in dutiful silence. His thin-framed glasses and steeled gaze impressed unto him the air of a stern schoolmaster; an innate characteristic which conflicted with his usually light-hearted demeanour.

The other three Commissars of State were also present. Vekten Hayasal, Commissar for Intelligence, carrying his rather rotund frame in a quite untidy suit, unkempt hair and beard smothering his small, puffy face. There was also the grim-faced War Commissar, Jesk Karayov, with a sharp jaw and stern glare, dressed in his General's uniform adorned with medals he likely had not earned. And of course, the nigh-omnipresent Commissar for the Interior, Athier Varatsk -- bespectacled, round-headed, quiet, and observant. At the far end of the table, however, was the most outlandish person in the assembled meeting. Ivaken Taratysk, Operator of the Ideological Office, sat thin-lipped and dressed entirely in a black suit, a Crimson party badge providing the only splash of colour. His grey face was tightened, eyes thin and suspicious. This bizarre group, as odd as it had seemed, together held practically all political power in the Federation.

"Well then, Comrades," began Turaniski, "I trust we are ready to begin?" This elicited a quiet nod from each of his companions. Satisfied, the General Secretary continued. "As you all may well know, recently two of Comrade Taratysk's in Cassadia were caught in action. Two brave Comrades took their own lives to prevent information from reaching the enemy. For their sacrifice, I trust their families will be rewarded handsomely." Murmurs of agreement across the room marked a general concurrence with this sentiment. "However, quite unfortunately, the other two were captured -- and they are now in the hands of the Cassadian government. The men were in possession of quite confidential state information, to my understanding. The type of state we find in Cassadia leaves nothing to the imagination as to the lengths they will be willing to go to in order that they may extract this information."

"With all due respect, Comrade General Secretary," interjected Taratysk, his voice dry and sincere, "the Ideological Office took into consideration the environment in Cassadia, and acted accordingly when appointing operatives to be stationed there. It is unfortunate that some were captured alive, but I am sure they will not break under interrogation. Rest assured, the field-Commissar in charge of our operations in that shithole has been properly reprimanded for his poor management of the situation."

Turaniski grunted, clearly displeased by the interruption. He spoke with a rigid, steady tone, as if he was disciplining an unruly child. "That is all well and good, Comrade Taratysk, but - had you let me finish - I was about to acknowledge how, no matter how much faith we place in our agents, we still must make provisions in order to react against the Cassadian threat, and the lapse in our espionage activity has wrought consequences which make the situation even more precarious. We can punish whoever we like! It does not change the fact that the reactionaries now have the upper hand." He practically spat those last words out. He was growing tenser with the Operator. More and more ground in the affairs of state had been yielded to the Ideological Office, and even then they maintained imputence and wilful ignorance. It was becoming a deep issue, driving a rift in between the fabric of the Party.

The General Secretary then noticed that he had been glaring at Taratysk in silence for a rather long time. With a gesture that was not quite apologetic, he leant back. Karayov then spoke up, with a deep, gruff voice. His years in the Army had given him a powerful aura, and his tone almost seemed to command respect. "If I may, Comrade General Secretary?"

"Go on then, Comrade Karayov."

Karayov was bellicose, and, considering the nature of his office, that was usually a good thing. However, in delicate issues such as the matter at hand, this attitude became a most tiring charade. Regardless, it was at the very least a change of pace from the do-nothing attitude of the I.O.'s operator. "Cassadians are a barbarous, naturally imperialist people. They are the slavish inhabitants of a tin-pot dictatorship who we have long since ourselves refused to extend the courtesy of diplomatic recognition to. The only reasonable way to act against them is to mobilise a good chunk of the Red Fleet and send it right to the boundaries of their territorial waters. The only language these savages will ever understand is intimidation and violence. We'll use the former to avoid the latter."

"I'm sorry, but that's quite frankly absurd." Drawled Turnov, clearly somewhat bored. "I have spent the last few days hurriedly assuring whatever friends we have that our recent statement was sincere and truthful, and it'll be a good while until our foreign relations are back to a tentative sense of normalcy. We cannot throw all that away and seek conflict for the sake of ego-"

"Oh spare me the cowardice, Comrade Turnov." Karayov interrupted, practically spitting out the word 'Comrade' with as much sarcastic venom as he could muster. "I must question whether you're dedicated to the people's revolution at all! Every time swift and decisive action is needed, you wish to pussy-foot, to obfuscate, to spit in the face of the future of this country, and for what? So that we may bow to the whim of a handful of reactionary states? Appease them with diplomatic petitions and promises?"

Turnov tutted condescendingly. "It is a childish, and furthermore reactionary, notion that revolution is only carried at the tip of a sword. Socialism is not a race for slaughter, it is the perfection of the essence of man. We fight because we have to, not simply for the sake of it, as your brutish methods would doubtless entail."

"That is not at all what I suggest!" Roared the War Commissar, his words expressing incandescent fury. "You are putting words in my mouth to suit your agenda, Comrade Turnov, and I think everyone here can see it. You think your work to be far more important than it actually is, and act to defend your futile efforts where, sometimes, we just need to bite the bullet and get the job done! What are you scared of? The worst that could happen is that some Cassadian sailors might end up blown out of the water. And they're barely people! They're reactionary monsters serving a reactionary Empire with a reactionary agenda. Why are you so hesitant to slaughter the filth which infest the Old World?"

Before Turnov could respond, Hayasal coughed raspily to announce his own opinion. "Comrade Karayov, your dedication is admirable, but I do feel you want a full-blown war with Cassadia. We cannot, no matter how reactionary the opponent, simply jump into armed conflict. We must be measured in our approach; yet at the same time, Comrade Turnov's line of thought may make us seem like pushovers. I believe that we should attempt to cow them, but no more."

"I do wonder," mused Varatsk, casting a cynical eye over the squabblers, "what do you hope to achieve by sending the ships there? We have our boats right up next to their waters. Then what? Do we ask them back for the spies we just denied having? Comrade Turnov is right in that we can't assume a brute force approach here, yet at the same time it's obviously not great to leave the situation as is." He paused, as if considering something. His face had a certain mischievous air to it, as if he had concocted an amusingly bad idea.

"Go on then!" Exclaimed Karayov, clearly running out of patience. "We're all waiting!"

"Well," Varatsk murmured, "I suggest re-establishing our spy ring in Cassadia from scratch once more."

"Not happening." Taratysk immediately asserted. "The Office for Ideology is too noble an institution, and Cassadia is too impenetrable an enemy. Not to mention how they'll be on high alert with our spies having already been discovered, so it's hardly like we'll be any luckier."

Turaniski had been silent throughout all of this, remaining totally placid amongst the bickering of his subordinates. This was why he hated meetings. "Enough!" He shouted, slamming his fist on the table. "I have come to a decision." Silence descended over the room. "The Red Fleet will dispatch a medium-sized Task Force to the edge of Cassadian waters, as a clear sign to the world that we will not fold in the face of slander. That is all." Without any further word, he rose from his chair and strutted out of the room.

He had had enough with these idiots. The Red Fleet would speak for itself.

by **Qassadia** » Thu Feb 25, 2021 4:46 pm

Carthage,
Royal Palace

A quiet and invisible miasma of silent stillness, permeated throughout the high corridors, lording over them as it always had, over the opulent and richly decorated hallways, with their expensive curtains, furniture, and statues, not to gloss over the double-layered ceiling on which were painted various scene of the Good Book or associated painting of Saints and angels replacing them, once the rich material of the Creation, Revelation, Exodus, Judges, Leviticus and Mathew ran out, having to be replaced with even more material of the same Baroque style of art found on other famous buildings, such as Saint Peter's Basilica - of course, the scale had to be severely downsized in consideration of the scale of the rectangular, layered ceiling of the Royal Palace of Carthage.

Through one of those hallways, a lone man was marching at a pace that indicated the anxiousness of a man who was in a hurry. That person in question being Volodymyr Zelensky [OOC: No relation to the IRL figure], a man who was entrusted with the post of the Royal Prime-Secretary, a thankless job, but a powerful one on the equal level of the Master of the Royal Office nonetheless.

As he marched in an almost frantic manner, Volodymyr kept his jaw clench his suit impeccable and buttoned up as he passed the occasional maid, servant, or even a Royal Guard Knight-Agent, all having to pause and do a light bow, as an acknowledgment of his position within the Crown-Government. This highly important man strode along the marble corridors, passing by hand-painted portraits of men (and a few women) who had made their mark by performing exemplary service for God and Crown, among them several people he knew and even fewer who were still serving faithfully to the current Empress. Like almost all with an aspiration to make their mark on History, Volodymyr Zelensky desired that his portrait would be put up on the wall of the Palace, among other men rendered exceptional service to the Crown, and thus, to God.

With a heavy step, he broke off his march as Volodymyr took towards one of the doors on his left, a heavy mahogany door which he proceeded to barge through into a room that was discreet enough, a simple square table, relatively modest furnishings by the standards of the palace. Already present were the Royal Master of Offices, Pavel Angelov, the Director of the General Reconnaissance Bureau, Hafez Nonnete, and the Director of the National Guard, a bearded, heavy man by the name of Gene Smilas. The deputy Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs Sergei Lavrov was also present, facing the two men, who were seated each on opposite sides of the table, with Hazez in the far-off corner in the middle.

''I just got word from the Constable Sherrif of Carthage that a diplomatic incident has occurred at the airport.'' Announced Volodymyr, clearly upset about the matter.'' WHAT. THE FUCK. IS. GOING. ON!'' The Royal Secretary shrieked at the people in the word, emphasizing every word. Naturally, all eyes in the room quickly turned to him.

Hafez Nonnete let out a puff of her cigarette as she observed the man, while Gene Smilas and Sergei Lavrov stared emptily at the man as if waiting for Zelensky's outburst to come and pass, as quickly as it otherwise did. The uptight Master of the Royal Office remained where he stood, always that expressionless and almost bored-faced written across his face - chin up high, face forward like a soldier on a parade ground.

''I think you should take a seat Mr. Zelensky.'' Said the Master of the Royal Office, so nonchalantly as if they were at a picnic or something, and not in the middle of an emergency that would irreparably tarnish the reputation of the Holy Kingdom.

''Maybe you should, sir. I can assure it's more than meets the eye.'' Called out Hafez from the other end of the table.

''How can you be so calm when there is such a probable chance that this would see our country has its image tarnished as an absolute pariah!'' Volodymyr cried out, frustrated.

''Because it won't, there is more to it, than it simply being a standoff as you said.'' Sergei clarified to the agitated man.

''I FUCKIN SWEAR - this Lukov fellow is getting out of hand. How the hell was he able to call upon the goddamn police AND National Guard?''

''Because he is allowed,'' A voice came from the door through which Volodymyr had entered from, a voice that immediately brought all who were seated immediately jumped from their seats to attention at the mere utterance to the sound caused these people of power to freeze in their place. The Empress standing at the door drew all eyes on her, Relena took a step forward from the doorway as she fully entered the room. The gazes of her ministers still maintained their gazes on the woman, as she went past her chief official in charge of her cabinet.

Crossing her arms and head looking down while the click of her heels reverberated off the room, Relena continued,'' That trust Mr. Zelensky I can assure is not ill-gained, Baron Lukov is a rational man who would have not committed to gamble with our international image by taking such overt actions if there was not a compelling circumstance that would have forced him into playing a strong hand in light of this situation.'' The Empress slowly walked over to the table which made Pavel Angelov and Volodymyr Zelensky congregate with all the rest over to the table, to her left and right respectively.

'' Speaking of this incident; Director Smilas, Director Hafez - may you explain to me what exactly have the Poles stole that has made Baron Lukov discern calling upon such a strong response?'' Relena addressed her two particular underlings, which made both look to each other as if asking themselves non-verbally by look alone who was to go first. At this, Director Hafez waved a motion with her hand that courtesied the man to address the Empress first.

'' Certainly Your Majesty - fifty minutes ago, the database of the Federation of Property Owners, which has access to all LPU collars....''

''Excuse me Director, but did you just say LPU?'' The Empress interjected, asking.

''Yes, Your Majesty. The database Federation of Property Owners, which registers and tracks the collars of all LPUs in our country, per their internal regulations, that are in service of private owners, across small, medium and large-scale economic enterprises - detected a ''successful unauthorized access attempt'' of the collar of LPU, C-B7 #92357; a Living Property Unit that was allowed to work on the janitor staff of the General Consulate of Polish-Prussian, because of a labor shortage on the part of their service staff, thus deciding to contact the Federation of Property Owners to provide solutions to their situation.'' The Director explained as he clasped his rested hands on the table.'' Highly-likely because of the overwhelming share in LPU rates of illiteracy, mandated by their internal management regulations that mandate such...academic conditions, would pose no threat to their operational security of communications equipment and intel such as classified communique, correspondences, among other things.

''And there was no one, who had even a sliver of self-awareness that certain individuals from the Polish Mission would not, try to, deprogram this LPU, as people say - that they could incite her against her master or even worse, turn her into a mole of their own?'' Relena voiced the notion.

Smilas smiled'' Well...not when it comes to the owner of C-B7 #92357, I am afraid - in fact!'' Said the Director,'' I commend Baron Lukov for having expressed and shown interest in this particular private living property unit, out of almost six million that our Kingdom has been blessed with by the Lord. Because if he had not, the standard procedures of our law-enforcement structures when dealing with runaway property would have been much slower. Usually, since LPU collars see their batteries spent or malfunction, in such a situation, the owner has one hour grace period for the database to automatically assume an escape attempt, and thus notify appropriate law-enforcement agencies, of runaway property. Hence; if it had not been for the good Baron to prevent an even bigger disaster, such as the LPU spirited out of the country would have not only our reputation but also our claim as a sovereign state, according to some...malovent state and non-state actors.''

''I see, and for how long has this LPU been employed by the Polish Mission.''

''A little over three years Your Majesty.''Hafez Nonnete spoke up, the Director of the General Reconnaissance Bureau.

''And throughout this whole tenure, the private owner of this LPU could not assess and detect the obvious signs of his property slipping away from his control?'' Inquired the Empress.'' Was there nothing our law-enforcement or public security structures could have done to prevent this?''

''Unfortunately Your Majesty, neither the General Reconnaissance Bureau nor other relevant law-enforcement institutions have the appropriate legal precedent nor provisions to take actions given the...uniqueness of this case.'' The Director acknowledged negatively, with regret.

Relena exhaled a deep sigh, out of frustration. She turned her eyes to her Royal Prime-Secretary Volodymyr Zelensky, who looked as equally troubled as her at the revelation of why this had transpired the way it did. Looking as if she expected an apology.

''I would like to apologize for my insolence. My knowledge of the situation had been unenlightened up until now.'' Said Zelensky, who bowed down to his waist.

Relena simply scoffed, she turned back to her ministers.

''Well, for one; I don't know the name of this owner, though I am sure he will have a much interesting exchange with the Baron after it is over.'' Parvan Angelov said a statement that made most of the people in the room let out a cacophony of laughter at the thought.

Relena did not.

''Director Smilas, speaking of the standoff. What is the situation at the airport?'' The Empress asked, the tone urgent.

''The motorcade of the Polish Prussian Commonwealth has been forced to remain idle between two cordons of joint Militsiya and National Guard; one around their plane and the outer being all around them. This has forced them into a tight spot - think, between a rock and a hard place.'' Gene Smilas elaborated.'' All made possible thanks to local Carthage Constable units in the vicinity of the airport who raced to the aerodrome before the Polish motorcade did...this is something that gives us leverage, considering this delicate tactical situation from the perspective of our Polish-Prussian partners.''

''Which I am sure will make their Foreign Ministry carefully consider our protest - to release stolen property in exchange for lifting the blockade on the movements of their Polish Mission to evacuate.'' The Empress continued, realizing the intention of the plan. A spark that gained the woman even more respect for a man whom she viewed as a big brother figure.

The Empress turned to Sergei Lavrov.''Ser Lavrov, I expect that your department will wire our reasonable complaints, in due time?

The deputy secretary bowed,'' Absolutely, Your Majesty. I expect that our Polish colleagues to have received our communication by now.''

''Good. I would like for this fiasco to be done and over as soon as possible.''

With that, all took their seats, as the Master of the Royal Office provided the Empress with a cushioned seat to rest herself on, as the Royal Prime Secretary ordered for the 70-inch monitor in the room to be soon turned on to provide a live feed from the airport. A small team of technicians and with the help of both Directors, that was achieved in half an hour, as all in the room got themselves comfortable. Phone calls were made, as underchamberlains of the Foreign Affairs Department and the Royal Office crunched contacts through phone calls in providing clarification for the current standoff to other Foreign Missions.

''May you explain to me, what should be our next course of action? Now that the delegation has been prevented from leaving.'' Queried Volodymyr, his experience

''It's simple, and considering I just phoned Lukov on the matter, all we need to do is -- wait,'' Hafez stated as she took a cigarillo from a small, thin aluminum box, at which Knight-Agent Heero Yuri marched over to the Director, taking out a lighter which he put in front of the tip of the Director's cigarillo, lighting it up.

50 Minutes Earlier

Work.

It was something that defined the Baron, though it was not anything close to the caliber of being a workaholic-Punchev Lukov nevertheless enjoyed the piles of matters that always were of need for his attention and duty to address or mediate disputes between Provincial Commanders or Municipal Section Leaders who were always vying to receive the most in funds and resources for their own local initiatives and projects. Or holding his fellow Legionnaires to account for any real or perceived material or financial corruption. The UCNL was perceived by a majority of their fellow Cassadians to be authentic in their convictions and ideology, in both practice and theory after all.

Punchev Lukov looked over his shoulder to his right, gazing upon the beautiful banks of the Sava river through which its icy waters flowed through the wide marble canal of the capital. The buildings lining its banks mainly comprising of those build in the older architectural style of Petrine Baroque, Art Nouveau, and Neoclassical schools, a stark contrast to the towering, imposing structures of corporate headquarters, government buildings, and overall newer structures that overshadowed these incredible works of art in every way save for their beautiful and complimentary exterior facades, engraved statues as well as masterful masonry and furnished interiors and rooms.

He looked back over to his retractable table, as the engine's rumble of the car he was in, an elongated G-Wagon, advanced with the flow of the traffic, which moved according to the tune of the traffic lights which regulated the long stream of cars that had to pass through the dozen bridges that connected the west back with the east, and vice versa. Currently, Lukov's car moved at a slow, but steady pace, while two of his escort vehicles, both G-Wagons, one in the lead and another trailing the Baron - moved forward with the flow.

Punchev Lukov indulged himself to a sip of Monster before breaking off his gaze back down onto several folders, each containing spread-sheets and other documents that detailed the financial transactions of the UCNL Provincial Command, this included anything from expenses ranging from salaries of full-member Legionnaires, recruitment drives, civic initiatives, charities, local HQ upkeep, and bills, to surprise expenditures that had arisen from the all the previous activities.

*drtttt* *drtttt*

Lukov felt a vibration in the inner pocket of his jacket's dapper suit, pulling it out of his pocket to see the caller was from...the Federation of Property Owners.

What do they possibly want from me now.

The Baron accepted the call.

''Legatus Punchev, what is it?'' Said the aristocrat, annoyed, but not before the words said to him from the other end of the line turned his usual neutral expression into a frown and then into vile anger that was ready to burst out.

''What? -- the collar is not working, and she is ON THE POLISH DELEGATION's PLANE!'' Punchev Growled as he resisted the urge to grit his teeth and smash his surroundings. He laid a-back against the leather seat, mouth a little open in agape, the sharp teeth almost out and gnashing like a serpent.'' I see, in that case, I am afraid to say that certain precautions have to be invoked...Has the Militsiya been notified?'' Aked Lukov.''

The answer was quick, though not up to the Baron's satisfaction.''The ''unauthorized lock'' on C-B7 #92357 has been referred to law enforcement, Your Grace.''

''That's not enough,'' Punchev uttered before he hung up, sitting there bewildered, shocked even; a feeling and experience that he had not had in quite a long time. For a moment the Baron stood there, watching emptily at the front seat that accommodated the driver behind the wheel.

''Svetoslav, relay to the motorcade this; We're going to Charles VII International Airport, now.'' Lukov ordered, malice deep in his voice.''You can gloss over any traffic rules up until we get there.''

The Legionnaire-turned chauffeur and bodyguard looked in the rear mirror, his small eyes taking a glance of the man by instinct at the mere voice of the command. Svetoslav did what he was told, relaying the instructions to the two other vehicles in the motorcade.

Turning on their blue-and-red emergency lights at the front and back, the trio of boxy G-wagons made their way through the slow-moving congested traffic, scratching a few vehicles as the large, bulky jeeps huddled their way through onto the main boulevard that brought them on the main boulevard through which a bridge connected the west bank with the east. Hitting the pedal to the metal, the vehicles barreled through as they maneuvered to frantically overtake traffic on their race to the airport before those wretches that were the Poles, were to reach the evacuation aircraft before him.

And as the boxy automobiles raced against people and time, the Baron would not stand idle, as he was fast at work on the phone, cobbling up a response to this potential disaster that was progressively snowballing into one, if ''Bell'' was to be allowed to leave the country.

''Oleg! It's me, Lukov. I need all available units within the proximity of Charles International Scene there on the double - there is an ongoing situation right now, that will turn into a disaster...No, it's the goddamn Poles, they are trying to get away with smuggling an LPU out of the country. I am sure it has been confirmed by now that the Polish divided into two convoys from the official one that is supposed to take the route filed to the Department of Foreign Affairs -- I'll have them passed on to your department as we speak, as to these obvious diversions I suggest you mobilize and air asset to locate and shadow them. I also just received information that the PPC's evacuation plane is a C-17 Globemaster, a big grey airframe, it's on a pre-takeoff position at runway #4. Your people can't miss it. What they need to do, is to block it from flying off. Furthermore, I want you to call significant assets to this, preferably a full element of your Constable's SPEMOPOB (special mobile police battalion). Furthermore, order whoever mobile carrier provider is responsible for the area to cut it off IMMEDIATELY...I don't care if we cut coverage for 75,000 people, national security is at stake - not just some piece of private property! ''

Fools, don't they know that the airport only has a single entrance reserved for usage by diplomats?

''Greeting Director Smilas. I am sure you have been made aware of the situation of the current situation with the LPU that was employed by the General Consulate of the Polish Mission -- Yes I understand quite transparently the degree of what is at stake here, hence why I have been compelled by the moment to contact you. The Polish are trying to get away with the LPU and we cannot have that, since I and you are working in such a terse time window, I would be infinitely grateful not only on behalf of the UCNL but also in the name of all private property owners if you are to order a battalion-sized unit from the National Guard garrison at Kronchusta to fly over to Charles International Airport most urgently. A battalion-sized formation, as well as additional ground units, would be greatly appreciated...I thank you, Godise with you.''

Lukov ended the call, putting a palm on his forehead as he felt a gripping headache take over his mind, by someone or something that he had acquainted himself for quite a long time; The Voices

Emperor Charles (VII) Von Peacekraft International Airport

From the air, an urban blob-ish mass of low-rise office and commercial buildings contrasted with few parks and green areas in-between met a large silvery estuary and a spread-out city on low rolling country surrounding it.

The international airport itself was a steel and glass construction of the grand design, intended to resemble a dull, modernist boxy building made according to the tenants of the Modernist school of architecture. Something that would be disdained by anyone with the most base knowledge of architecture would find it absolutely atrocious. Nevertheless, it was a functional building, built according to the latest fad at the time, which had revolved around pure utilitarian functionality, masked by the steel, concrete, and glass construction of the building that hid its clear ugliness.

One one of the taxiways; a single C-17 airlifted stood parked on the runway, its engines spinning up and its flight crew and guards in the plane, waiting for the last batch of their delegation to arrive, hopefully, sooner rather than later, before the Cassadians caught up to their machinations. A single LPU - by law a creature instead of a sentient human being, she was considered to be property by most Cassadians, including the Law.

Yet no matter how forcefully the law asserted her lack of humanity that disenfranchised her off basic dignity. That didn't make LPUs any less human than that anyone else; Worthy of a future infinitely better than what fate and the cosmic powers of the universe, had allotted -- to Bell and anyone unlucky enough to be born into the kind of merciless world she had to live in since the day she was born.

A world she was eager to flee from, all thanks to an adopted family found in the warm and safe company of the Polish embassy.

Their convictions were pure, well-intentioned, and done so with a mission as if ordered to by the Lord himself, to take it upon themselves to give ''Bell'' something that they thought was deserving of all human beings.

Freedom.

Yet that would be put to the test, however, as the flight crew in the cockpit noticed in the corner of their cabin what initially was a speck of flashing red and blue light. Initially believing it to be a maintenance vehicle, that theory would soon be disproven as quickly as it was established. Clear to all that these were Audi Q7 police cruisers of the Carthage Constable Department, racing across the tarmacs and green grass between the paved runways.

The unsettling appearance of police unsettled many who bore witness to the scene, spectating from the sidelines as they saw a steady stream of vehicles pouring in sporadic fashion from several directions - accessing the airport through several access entrances only reserved for staff-only maintenance and cargo vehicles moving equipment and goods back and forth from hangars and loading areas.

Emergency lights flickering, the police cruisers of the Carthage Constable began to gradually pull up into a a loose circle, maintaining their distance from the aeroplane as the beefy Q7s rumbled on, their wheels spinning as they began driving to the side circularly until each had covered long enough distance, a somewhat complete circular cordon now set up around the plane, the officers disembarked their cars, pacing around the tarmac as most, following the instinct of their training and experience went for the cruiser's trunk, a starkly different layout from its civilian version, each Q7 had a trunk with a strongbox that accommodate up to three foldable, elongated spike strips, each measuring at six feet when fully extended.

Each Militsiya cruiser was parked twenty feet apart from the other; a deliberate positioning that allowed for the officers to set up the spike strips between the cars in such a scheme that it only allowed for only two one foot gaps in the roadblock's line that had now just formed around the Globemaster, the Polish guards of the delegation standing around the aircraft's fuselage as they watched this entire ordeal unfold right in front of their eyes, knowing full well they would have to open fire at the police officers in order to stop the cordon from fully establishing itself.

''My superior have informed us that your country's delegation has stolen a Living Private Property Unit and that you are trying to take it out of the country. Unfortunately, anything else that you may wanna say, will have to be with relevant officials and other negotiators. I am only doing my job.'' Was the response of one police officer to any of the officials, trying to communicate with the Militsiya officers. All the while maintenance vehicles used for the upkeep of planes were being driven each runways, the only exception being Runway #1, which was situated at the far of end to the Globemaster's left, all the meanwhile the ATC rerouted flights which were either re-routed to Carthage's older former international airport or canceled wholesale.

It would take time before the main response from the National Guard would arrive. Their helicopter transports having taken off from their garrison base. A single Bell 412 hovered over the urban jungle of Carthage, as it shadowed the second convoy, barreling through the city's over-and-underpasses and boulevards, flying low and close enough that the helicopter practically flew next to, and between buildings most of the time. Ascending to altitude and performing several gradual banking maneuvers as it carefully traced the Polish motorcade with its camera.

Half an hour came and went, before the main column of vehicles belonging to the last of the Polish delegation finally arrived. Only to find the plane that they supposed to reach, blocked by an obstruction of several dozen police cruisers belonging to the Carthage Constable. With the path to the plane now blocked, any chance of communication they attempted to establish through cell phones would hit them instantaneously by the same ''No Signal'' indicator on their phones.

The black Bell 412 that shadowed them earlier made a low pass over the closely packed group of vehicles before several Blackhawks numbering around seven flew over from the south. Four slowing down over the tarmac before their landing gears hit the asphalt or dirt, unloading a disciplined assembly of National Guard officers, carrying highly customized M4s or MP9s equipped with optics and others high-priced gadgets as well as donning dark-mustard green kevlar over-suit BDUs, plate carriers, and OPS-CORE lightweight ballistic helmets sporting advanced communications headsets.

Shortly thereafter, the first Mercedes Sprinter vans of the National Guard arrived at the scene, rumbling across the asphalt-paved runways as their sight, made infamous by their blackened windows and custom tune set of heightened chassis and a bullbar made them instantly come into view. Further reinforcements from the Militsiya would come to the scene, as the cordon that was created from within, was now finally being completed from without. Arresting the possibility of the vehicles from the Polish side suddenly make ''Fast and Furious maneuvers'' as one officer put it.

The last two helicopters hovered and landed on each of the maintenance hangars, from them disembarking a two-man team that carried long-range Accuracy International precision rifles which they rapidly set up firing positions overlooking the Polish airlifted.

Through it all, Lukov witnessed the scene unfold in front of him, coordinating efforts with officers on the ground and higher-up in the chain through a satellite phone that was part of the expensive saloon of the Baron's G-Wagon. All the while studying the situation with a naked eye through the outer tinted windows of the car. Having ordered his motorcade to park adjacent to a maintenance hangar, at a visible, yet long enough distance from where the standoff was about to ensue.

You will not get far Mr. Jan Godwinsson

I'll see through to that.

He counted the minute, and the hour; the situation primed for the standoff to begin in full force as a whole new game of wits and patience was about to begin.

by **Brettenwald** » Thu Feb 25, 2021 6:11 pm

To: Foreign Minister, Catholic Republic of Langenia
From: Adalrik Morvan, Foreign Minister of the Empire of Brettenwald
Subject: Cassadian situation

Dear sir/madam,

I will dispense with the formalities and come straight to the point. We are aware that your country has issued a statement condemning those who have already begun to point fingers at Cassadia for the murder of the late Adlopovna Gazgireyeva and her family. HM the Emperor has ordered me to inform you that such a condemnation is little more than meaningless in the face of the obvious facts of the situation. The Holy Kingdom had the means, motive, and opportunity to plant that car bomb, and until there is concrete evidence to the contrary all secondary parties involved will act in accordance with that line of reasoning...except yours, it seems. History is never something that one should be on the wrong side of. Have you considered how your country's apparent open support of Cassadia, as evidenced by the alarming number of Cassadian flags seen waving during your livestreamed Grand National Assembly proceedings, will affect your standing on the world stage? I mean no offense, but neither the Holy Kingdom nor your Catholic Republic have much good will to work with in the eyes of most countries, and HM doubts you can afford to lose too much of it. I have also been ordered to include our Empire among those countries who will not hesitate to condemn you, impose sanctions or cut any diplomatic and trade ties. In conclusion, there is a choice to be made: become an international pariah by continuing to support a reactionary, brutally repressive and morally bankrupt slaver state, or do what is best for your diplomatic relationships and your country by condemning extrajudicial acts of terrorism like the one that set this chain of events in motion and allying with those pursuing justice and freedom. The Emperor and I trust that you know which path to take.

Sincerely,
Adalrik Morvan, Imperial Foreign Minister of Brettenwald

Torrensohn set down his copy of the Minister's missive, grinned, and shook his head. Adalrik, you magnificent bastard, he thought, lighting a cigar. Prussia-Poland hadn't responded yet, but this kind of thing was a slow burn. The- oh, what in hell was their name, the mushroom people- that wasn't his problem. Yet. It was time for his smoke break, after all.

by **Qassadia** » Sun Feb 28, 2021 10:00 pm

Emperor Charles International Airport
1 Hour Later

Three Blackhawks circled over in an arrow formation around the expansive airport that was part of the urban blob of concrete, glass, and steel. Even from the air, one was able to see the two walls of vehicular blockades from the air, the flashing lights of the National Guard and the Militsiya of the Carthage Constable forming two perimeters that created the perfect cordon which blocked the Polish ambassador's convoy from going anywhere. Dropping the closely huddled together pack of cars between the hammer and the anvil.

''This is Skakalets-2 to Skakalets-1; request to break from formation - break - change course by 90 degrees over the target over?''

''Request granted Skakalets-2. Return to formation once maneuver has been performed - break -over?''

''Roger that Skakalets-1. We'll be good boys this time *chuckles*''

''Skakalets-2, please refrain from filling the chatter with unnecessary drivel.''

''Errr, roger that Skakalets-1. Skakalets-2 out.''

A single rotorcraft from the formation broke off, as the pilot banked the aircraft into a ninety-degree angle, having the helicopter slowly lose altitude as he calmly wrestled the mechanical beast to sweep low across the runway towards the Globemaster from a direction that was perpendicular to the plane. Slowing down the Blackhawk, the helicopter pulled up of the airlifter's front; he let the aircraft hover idly in a single spot at the helicopter's rotor blades kicked off air and specks of dust from the pressure of the Blackhawk's rotors.

A member of the Globemaster's flight crew swore, that the pilot of the Blackhawk flipped him the middle finger.

The Blackhawk skirted off forward over a maintenance hangar, picking altitude as it moved in to return to formation.

Lukov spied through the glass at the back of his G-Wagon. His beady eyes stared at the Polish tight assembly of vehicles through the Sprinter vans and Q7 SUVs of the National Guard and Carthage Constable. Yet his gaze would skirt off as a pain in his head threw a fit of a turmoil of uninvited thoughts.

Negotiate..

Its no use, a stronger hand is what's required.

KILL THEM ALL, KILL THEM ALL, KILL THEM ALL, KILL THEM ALL.

The voices forced themselves through his head, the unbridled jolt of pain that went down his very being was palpable, but not enough to saddle him into something resembling a mentally incapacitated state. Punchev was used to them, sharing an unpleasant board that was his mind. Rubbing his eyelids with the flat tip of his point and thumb finger, the Baron plotted the next course of action as he cobbled through the flurry of thought in search of his own.

I could really use a Heroin shot right now.

''You alright there Punchev?'' A voice from the front seat emerged, coming from the driver's seat behind which stood Svetoslav - an old comrade whose friendship was forged in the carnage of the Millenium War.

''Am fine, Svetlyo. Just need some breather.'' Said Lukov,'' I'll get into the front vehicle. The other higher-ups have gathered round in the control tower. I don't want these crude Polacks to know I've gone anyway. That's why I want you to stay here.''

''Will do sir.'' His driver acknowledged his order.

''Good.'' Grumbled the aristocratic Legionnaire as he stood up from his seat, with a slight crouch, the man walked over to the right side door before disembarking it. Calmly striding across to the back right side-door of the front G-Wagon, opening it to reveal two bodyguards occupying each of the seats; Dima, a gruff, boarish man of darkened expression from years of service in Albarazil, even before the Millenium war - puffing on a paper joint of rolled tobacco, this man was of overall a jolly demeanor, who hid the pain behind a jolly smile and a grandfatherly attitude. The other man on the other hand was a loner, going by the name of Gordon, he was a slenderly built specimen with Albino hair especially coming from a certain part of the country that was famous for its milk-white ''phantoms'' of the Krali Marko peninsula in the far-flung corner of south-eastern Cassadia.

''Ah Punchev, to what do we owe the pleasure sir,'' Dima asked in a friendly tone.

''I need one of you to volunteer to stay at my vehicle. I don't want to have the Poles know that I would be going to the control tower.'' Plainly answered the Baron, staring at him straight into the eyes, with his beady pair,'' I'll need to gather around the table to discuss the next course of action with the top dogs, who have sent my way to co-ordinate this preventative action.''

''I see,'' Dima said, understanding this...rather mundane predicament,'' Well, in that case, I'd like to pre-empt all others and say that I want to be the one. - hehe''

''Just don't take advantage of the Monster drinks old man - not that you can't - it's just that I don't want you having a stroke if push comes to shove to have a firefight with these people.''

''HAH! As if a heart attack would be the one thing that will kill me - I joined the Legion for a reason, sir. I could have wallowed spending most of my days at cafes discussing grandpa stuff with boring people. That is not the life that I want.'' Said Dima, with full confidence in his declared conviction to the Baron, who looked on at him approvingly.

''Whatever you say, grandpa, now get off and go enjoy my saloon while this silent stalemate lasts,'' Punchev commanded grumpily to the old dog that was adamant to accept the pensioner's life.

Nimbly disembarking it, Dima freed his seat he strode off towards the elongated, quasi-limousine of the Baron, his highly modified Kalashnikov with all its expensive rails, optics and other gadgets having slung down on his side kicking around back and forth before he put it up in front of his chest as he opened the door and entered the long boxy automobile. Meanwhile, Lukov stopped to take a glance before getting into the car, making himself comfortable inside, taking his seat after which he closed the door. Clearly hinting at the driver in front, to start up the engine and drive off wherever the Legatus ordered - obviously obliging.

The bulky G-wagon let out a roar as the car separated from the parked line of cars which made a U-turn that led the car along a course through the runway that had it move back around the terminal. Pulling over at the grandiose, entrance, the powerful vehicle ground to a halt.

Lukov exited the car, with a jump on the ground because of the jeep's ground clearance. Turning around to see a small but sizeable assembly of Cameras roll their film as they took footage of the glass superstructure of the terminal, the lone black and luxurious car standing out like a sore thumb from among the other, less noteworthy and boring brand. He held his glance at them, an expressionless neutral poker face as the Baron caught the sight of two figures who stood there, one of them appeared to be talking to one of the reporters until, from what was obviously his presence - turned around to see for himself why the reporter in question had ceased her endless questioning that was so characteristic of journalists all over.

A Cheshire smile, that was most polite formed across his lips. Punchev waved at the men and women at the distance, before he turned tail and continued his march into the terminal along with his three bodyguards, all except for the driver walking lock-in-step with their lord, through the large halls of an airport to reveal an interior had gone all but quiet, with the last passengers of whatever planes had landed, having gone on about their daily business, or with a far rarer sight - waited on benches or lounges, browsing the building's many duty-free stores or spoiling themselves at a cafe.

The small posse of four men strode still, taking several turns through a custom's bureau and a TSA scanner area before ascending a flight of stairs at the top of which stood a pair of National Guard servicemen, donned in their traditional OD suits, plate carriers and Ops-Core began helmets, the M4s slung and held in front of their vests, which they promptly slung around on their backs to salute whoever was coming their way.

''Sir, we're glad that you're here. General Gene Smilas and Constable Sherrif Oleg Mironov are expecting you.''

''I know.''

The Baron bumped through one shoulder, not bothering to even excuse himself as Punchev and his bodyguards would have to undergo a challenge of another row of stairs that led upwards and then to another. Finally arriving at a corridor-bridge into the airport's lone control tower. Arriving at it, the Baron would find a scene that resembled a flurry to that of a command center, with technicians and other personnel handling communications equipment, with only a few personalities from the Control Tower's traffic control having been left to coordinate civilian airliners in re-routing them to Carthage's older airport.

At the edge of, it slightly in the centre, two men each in their own curious officer uniform of their station and service branch looked on at the plane and the cordons that had formed around both the plane and the Polish diplomatic convoy. Babbling something that Lukov could not gouge from the distance.

Yet the two men were cognizant of Punchev's entry. Turning around to individually greet them, the Baron was all too happy to reciprocate likewise.

'' I commend you Baron Punchev. Your quick deductive reasoning and subsequent reaction foiled this part of the Polish machinations quite skillfully.'' The Director proclaimed to sing him praises with this declaration.''The question however that now stands before us though...Is how long will these people be willing to wait it out - same us. Since the moment, now that word has gotten out were the many embassies voicing their protest at out action.''

'' They would know better than to try and smuggle stolen property out of the country.'' Lukov firmly countered, voice stern and unbending like a rock, no doubt he took it as a personal attack,'' they should know better than that, especially when living property is involved.'' Said Lukov,'' I am sure most of the diplomatic corps stationed in our country have been extensively allowed on to the fact of our mores and cultural sensibilities.

'' But, surely you do know how these nations and other foreign entities will interpret these measures that we've undertaken.'' Oleg pointed out.'' Especially since you ordered us to cut phone coverage for the airport - we now have no reliable channel of communication with them.'' Said the Sherrif, standing aback as Punchev began to approach him closer and closer getting up at his face, despite his rather shorter stature. Punchev grinned.

'' Who said we don't?''

Twenty Minutes Later

''I don't know about you, but I think Lukov is a little crazy, don't you agree?'' Oleg asked, watching a tense spectacle unfold as a lone figure too to walk across the runway in front of the outer cordon down below, he and Smilas watching it through a pair of binoculars.

''Usually, court politics requires you to have a little crazy if you ask me.'' Said the Director of the National Guard,'' the Legion though -- even more so.''

''Damn right.''

The Director turned to a trio of Legionnaires who were watching this peculiar moment currently in its zenith, one of them relaying a word back to the motorcade to be at the ready, if anything were to happen to their Legatus, in case the Poles were to attempt some course of action that would prove too risky for their good.

''No insult intended - rather I was complimenting him you see, eh.''

The Baron proceeded leisurely with his next steps, having had unbuttoned his coat as its garment flutter against the chilly wind of February's winter air, revealing a dapper suit underneath it. Proceeding to take about a dozen steps, the Baron closed the distance, stopping halfway.

His hands were slightly raised in the air, proclaiming by a language of the body he had relatively peaceful intent, while he held a walkie-talkie in the other.

''I have come here to negotiate!'' Began Lukov, raising his voice at the tight-knit group of vehicles before him ''one that will see you leave our country...unharmed.''

by **Qassadia** » Mon Mar 01, 2021 8:01 pm

Royal Department of Foreign Affairs

Word of the standoff at Emperor Charles International Airport spread quickly, as underchamberlains and under-secretaries whipped verbally their underlings springing to action; Drafting communique to each the many Foreign Missions that were stationed in Cassadia, providing explicit clarification of the context of events, and the underlying cause that had induced certain elements in the Crown-Government in mobilizing such a strong-handed response against what was, by a lack of a better word - a mere case of stolen private property, even in this case it involved a ''property'' that was breathing, living, human being.

Code: Select all: EMERGENCY DIPLOMATIC WIRE Recipient: Ministry of Foreign Affairs of The Polish-Prussian Commonwealth Sender: Office of the Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs It has come to our attention, based on corroborated evidence from sources within your Diplomatic Mission, that certain individuals from within the staff have plotted, abetted, solicited and encouraged the progressive criminal incitement towards LPU and property owner, including a scheme to steal and smuggle said Living Property Unit C-B7 #92357 out of the country by the same individuals from among your Foreign Mission. We of Her Majesty's Crown-Government would like to reiterate once again that the underlying cause for the stand-off lies squarely on the shoulders of the Ambassador who could have prevented this potential flashpoint in our bilateral relations, from turning into a highly-corrosive and fragile incident that we're afraid, may irrevocably damage any goodwill that may be found between our two peoples. Time has not yet passed, for this stain to be wiped clean - and to have a new unblemished page be turned for the prospects of Cassadia-Polish ties. We on behalf of Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena (I) Von Peacekraft, submit with great humility and sadness; our request to apprehend members of the Polish delegation so long as they forcefully maintain LPU C-B7 #92357 and refuse to return it under its legal private owner, as our laws stipulate, which to remind your government, had verbally and legally; agreed to follow both in letter and spirit. Thus, we ask that you honour our commitment, as much as we from the Crown-Government have offered ours. Lest our side is compelled under the duress of circumstance to take further measures up to, and including, physical measures as a last resort, to have the aforementioned piece of stolen private property, be handed over in our possession. I Have The Honour To Be Sergei Lavrov Royal Deputy Secretary of Foreign Affairs

by **Langenia** » Wed Mar 03, 2021 8:02 pm

Carthage, Cassadia

The Langenian ambassador to Cassadia, Martin Garcia, sat in his office at the Langenian embassy in Carthage. He looked at the world outside the office through his window, at the buildings of Carthage outside. They reminded him of how he disliked the assignment of being in Cassadia. Why? Garcia thought back to when he first arrived in Cassadia. He thought that the assignment would be like his previous ones, idle, relaxing, with the occasional work that his office required. Instead, he'd been shocked to find out the Cassadians were slavers, something he thought the world had given up long ago. Sure, Langenia may not have been the most friendly country towards the implementation of liberal values and he'd heard rumors of what happened to Langenian dissidents, but Cassadia was something else entirely, worse. Contempt had grown in him, as he'd learned that slaves were non-humans to the Cassadians, something, he thought, that put their country on the same tier as the Nazis, who Langenia had fought long ago. Why his country would cultivate friendly relations with the so-called "Holy" Kingdom of Cassadia, he had no clue.

For now, he thought in his mind, I'm stuck here and have to do my job to the best of my ability. Whatever. He had to send that report back to Aragon, Langenia. Standing up from the desk and walking out the office door, he went to his room to get his laptop. He had a thought. He was obliged to send what he learned about Cassadian society back to the Foreign Ministry, and by that he knew they meant everything. Obviously, he'd have to include the more unpleasant bit about slavery too. He had a hope that the boys back at that Ministry would forward his report to the President, the one that held the power to make major changes to Langenian foreign policy. Returning to his desk in the office, he eagerly began writing. His hopes hinged on it.

Presidential Palace, Aragon, Langenia

It had been a while since the flag-waving incident in the Grand National Assembly building and the Langenian statement that may or may not have been interesting news in nations involved in the Cassadian conflict. Since then, Langenia had remained eerily silent concerning the conflict, something that may have been a cause of concern to both sides, the Amistad Pact and anti-Amistad side. In reality this was because Langenia had been preoccupied with affairs in other areas of the world. However, Langenia would return to involvement in the conflict, but this time, not in support of Cassadia. The Catholic Republic would distance itself from the Holy Kingdom, but discreetly.

Exactly like Ambassador Garcia had expected, his report was forwarded to the desk of Nicolas Furia himself. And now, in the Presidential Palace, Furia and select cabinet members and advisors were discussing the Cassadian issue. "We've already received two messages concerning our support of Cassadia," said Foreign Minister Julio Sanchez. "From who?" responded Furia. "One is from Brettenwald, the other is from Archinia. They encourage us 'to be on the right side of this conflict,' due to potential actions against us." Furia thought for a moment, then said "Reply to them. Tell them we are considering distancing ourselves from Cassadia, not over that dissident, who I have no sympathy for, but for the institution of slavery that exists there." The others in the room did not seem surprised. Almost all of them there, including Furia himself, had begun to question the wisdom of close relations with Cassadia. In addition, there was that institution of slavery, which they thought, like Ambassador Garcia in Carthage, put the Cassadians on the same tier as the Nazis.

"Sir," said one advisor, "how should we distance ourselves from the Cassadians?" Furia thought for a moment, then said "We'll simply lessen diplomatic contacts, joint exercises, etc. with them, and reduce the amount of pro-Cassadian rhetoric and actions that come from Langenia." The others nodding in the room in agreement, the meeting adjourned. The persons stood up, walking out of the Presidential Palace meeting room. As Foreign Minister Sanchez walked into the hallway to go back home, he was pulled aside by Furia himself. "Listen Sanchez, I want you to personally respond to the messages sent to Langenia from Brettenwald and Archinia. You know what to tell them, now, I place the Cassadian issue into your hands. For the glory of Langenia." The Minister nodded. "Yes, sir, it shall be done. Patria, unidad, y valor."

From: Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Langenia
To: Government of Archinia
Encryption: Highest

Greetings,
recently Langenia has been preoccupied with affairs in other parts of the world. However, it is now that we return to the Cassadian issue. Though we do not approve of the Cassadian dissident killed in Palmyrion, we approve even less of the institution of slavery in the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia. Such institutions, in our view, put them on par with the Nazis, and forces us to reconsider our relationship with them. It is the intent of the Catholic Republic of Langenia to distance itself from the Cassadian regime, and avoid aiding slavers in the world.

From: Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Langenia
To: Government of Brettenwald
Encryption: Highest

Greetings,
recently Langenia has been preoccupied with affairs in other parts of the world. However, it is now that we return to the Cassadian issue. Though we do not approve of the Cassadian dissident killed in Palmyrion, we approve even less of the institution of slavery in the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia. Such institutions, in our view, put them on par with the Nazis, and forces us to reconsider our relationship with them. It is the intent of the Catholic Republic of Langenia to distance itself from the Cassadian regime, and avoid aiding slavers in the world.

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Thu Mar 04, 2021 2:00 pm

C-17, Callsign "Amogus 1"

A weight lifted from Bell's heart as the C-17 loomed in the distance. Hurriedly, the last part of the convoy halted, and she burst out of the Hummer's doors, before bounding up the ramp and into Lyun's waiting arms.

“Oh Bell, I’m so glad to see you again!” Lyun said, picking Bell up and twirling her around on the spot.
“Glad to see you too, Auntie Lyun!” Bell cried, smiling.
Marie mock-pouted at the sight. “Aw, not gonna say hi to me?”
“It’s good to see you, Marie. I trust the winds of fate were at your back?” Lyun asked, a smile on her face.
“Record time, in fact. Ride went far smoother than I had hoped.”

Francis nodded. “Traffic wasn’t too great today.”
“Perhaps it was meant to be this way. But I worry we aren’t truly clear yet.” Just like that, Lyun felt a buzzing on her phone. Quickly pulling it out, she checked the name and message. UNKNOWN: MAN OF GOD ARRIVING ON ANGELIC WINGS. BM83 AS BACKING TRACK. Lyun’s smile turned mysterious as she returned the phone to her pocket, careful not to reveal her concealed firearms.
“And to make things better, if this does go bad then maybe The God did plan this.”

“What do you mean?” Francis asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lyun opened her mouth, but their conversation was interrupted by the sight of several cars in the distance and the wail of sirens.

"Fuck!" Flight Lieutenant Zielonka hollered, as the cars cut them off. "Shit!" concurred his copilot Czarny.

Lyun quickly unzipped her jacket, drawing out her SR3 and unflipping the stock as she put herself between the open ramp and Bell.
“Stay behind me, I’ll protect you.” She said, a lot calmer as her gaze turned serious.

“...I’ll be back.” Francis muttered, as he unslung his Galil and ran out of the plane and onto the ramp, while Bell paled and grabbed onto Marie’s hand. Marie, for her part, reached for the M9 holstered on her leg. “Damn it.” she muttered. “And I thought this would be easy.”

“Things will never be easy with these ublyudki around.” Lyun replied, slowly backing Bell and Marie up, one hand on the Vikhr, one to cover Bell.

Outside the ramp
Outside of the ramp, a small knot of infantrymen and MFA functionaries stared as the Cassadian vise grew stronger. "Someone's snitched." Arciszewski growled. "Hancock. Take your element with me and help establish a perimeter. Get your kid to the back of the plane, as far away from those bootlickers as possible. Safeties off. Claire, take your squad and establish some sort of security for Bell. We'll rotate out at 8 hour increments. I know for a damned fact that there's a mole among us and they'll probably either try to run to the Cassadians or grab Bell. In either case try to leave them alive so we can drag 'em home with us, but feel free to kick them around or cut off their balls or something."

A Ministry of Foreign Affairs employee, hearing his words, shifted uncomfortably, and crossed his legs.

Francis nodded. "I've got her near the cockpit with my wife; both carry and know how to use 'em."

"Good. Claire?"

The flaxen-haired paratrooper stiffened. "Yessir?"

"Don't try to scare the kid too much. She's already terrified out of her fucking mind, don't add to it."

"Is there any pertinent information that could assist in this?"

"She plays chess." Francis interjected.

Claire grimaced. "...I hate chess. Anything else?"

"...She plays video games? ACZ, ARMA 3, the like. Most of it's packed though and the plane can't handle a full console for god knows how long…And the satellite comms are limited too, not too much bandwidth. Just enough to run Zoom at most."

"Does she read?"

"A shitton."

Claire perked up noticeably. "Oh? Nice. What sor-"

"Both of you." Arciszewski interjected. "Stations."

Claire nodded and went back inside, and Jan spoke up. "Kapitan, as always, I must remind you-"

"Shut up the fuck up, glow." Arciszewski replied, smoothly. "You've done your part."

"I have not, Kapitan. Lukov may let us go yet."

"Lukov!" Francis exploded, snarling. "Damn him! I'll string him up like a turkey! I'll fucking put him in a mayo jar and drown him in it! I'll-"

"Sergeant!" Arciszewski roared. "Your station! Or must I start the shooting now?!"

Francis seemed to fume quietly, but went off, barking orders in rapid-fire Polish to the Naval Infantry.

"Right…" Jan said. "As I was saying. Me and my people can get through to Lukov without giving up the package, I think. Or at least delay him. The man's something of a loose cannon but if I think that I can string him along long enough he won't force us into a bullshit heroic last stand and murder us all."

"It better work, glow." Arciszewski grunted, before walking off to the skirmish line.

The troops began to move. Thurn glanced apologetically at Arciszewski, but soon his face set into one of quiet rage as he and his fellow naval infantrymen took up a skirmish line around the ramp, Galils in plain sight, with the Guards Hussars following with their 416s and G3s. The Hummers were being manned again, and would be driven into a makeshift barricade.

Inside the plane
Lyun had switched from her normal cheery self, to having the focus of a laser. Her SR-3 was out, the stock extended as she held it at a low ready position. Safety was off, and she was ready to use it at a moments’ notice to defend her charge.
“We’re going to have help coming soon.” Lyun said, trying to soothe Marie and Bell.

Bell was pale and trembled in terror quietly, hanging on to Marie’s hand. Marie, for her part, looked nervous, with one hand gripping Bell’s hand, and the other holding an M9.

“It will be alright. The God has a plan.” Lyun stated. (it’s an idiosyncrasy lole)

A new voice butted in. “Besides, any Cassie will have to deal with the troops outside.”
Clarie joined the three, taking a seat on the floor. Discreetly, in the background, several members of the Guards Hussars, all armed, took up seats near the four.

“Lyun, Bell, Marie, wasn’t it? Listen up. You see those Ministry of Foreign Affairs people?” She pointed at the bureaucrats further down the plane.

“I see them, Claire Godwinsson. The shifty old men with the nervous expressions?” Lyun answered, squinting at them.

“And young men. They all look shifty, don’t worry. Most of them from what Francis has told me are going to be loyal. But the MFA has a nasty habit of adding moles and whatnot to their delegations specifically to prevent shit like this from happening or to defuse shit like this once it happens. So keep your eyes peeled.”

“Of course. As Francis describes them, they glow in dark places. Easy to see trying to sneak up on us.” Lyun nods at her own statement.

Yet another voice joined the conversation. “Once you do catch ‘em, don’t rough ‘em up too bad. Makes my job harder.”
A blonde woman in the crisp white uniform of a Royal Navy Chief Hospital Corpsman and a black bulletproof vest sat down as well. “Dana Lipka. You are Lyun, yes?”

“Do not worry. I will be as restrained as I can when dealing with the Glowing Men. It is nice to meet you, Dana Lipka. I am Lyun, no last name.”

“Excellent to hear. Bell?”

“Y-yes, missus Lipka?”

“You’ll be fine. Marie, keep that in mind too. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs will throw a shitfit and if they don’t the Crown will.”

“The Man of The God is coming too.”

Dana cocked her head. “Who?”

“Man of God or The God?” Marie added.

“Both are the same thing. He is… A man from my country. A Prince.”

“Whatever he’s doing, he better be good at it.” Claire grunted.

“He is the best, Claire Godwinsson. When Lauzanne wants a problem… Solved, they get him to do it. He may not look like it, but he’s one of the best agents in Lauzanne.” She smiles nostalgically.
“If I had to make a guess, either your Ministry of Warfare or your Crown King asked, or Lauzanne wants to see this be done in your favour.”

“Or the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.” Marie offered hopefully.
“Fat chance of that.” Claire shot back.

“If the Ministry of Foreign Affairs has these Glowing Men trying to be moles, they would likely have asked us for help in returning Bell. But knowing what I know, if they’re sending this person, then they have gone contrary to what the Ministry for Foreign Affairs wants. I have a… Feeling in the gut that if he was sent here to negotiate Bell over, he will disobey his orders.”

Bell looked up. “They...they’re sending help?”

Lyun looked back at Bell with a smile.
“They’re sending the best help that they can.”

Bell cracked a nervous smile in return, and her grip on Marie’s hand lessened slightly. “Is...he a friend of yours?”

Lyun nodded. “He’s one of the few people I fully trust.”

Bell seemed a little reassured, and leaned her head on Marie’s shoulder, sandwiched between her mother and Lyun.

In another part of the plane, Jan took up stock among the various MFA personnel. “Right. Who among you lot are willing to negotiate on our behalf with the Cassadians?”

A great deal of shuffling was heard, but in the end, several hands went up.

Unknown to Jan, these included two of the moles.

Unknown to the moles, Arciszweski stood off to the side, silently taking stock of who had volunteered and noting them down for further surveillance.

Outside the plane

The standoff dragged on for an hour before helicopters arrived. Some commotion was heard, and then like the Red Sea, the wave of Cassadians parted to reveal...Baron Lukov.

The sight of Punchev Lukov approaching enraged Francis, and Thurn as well, but both naval infantry as well as the squad they led held their fire and their tongues.

Instead of Jan and Arciszewski, however, two members of the MFA contingent were sent. Unknown to either Jan or Arciszewski, they had been the moles.
As soon as the moles approached Lukov, one of them cast a glance back to the C-17 for a split second. "May we talk somewhere more discreet?" He asked.

Lukov stood still as he felt the very sense that was his being telling him to shiver from the cold that the February weather had allotted for today, a nuisance of pure annoyance was what it was in his mind, even so, he was after deeply amicable to such unpleasant conditions. His time at the academy had steeled his senses, body and soul.

Not for whoever pair of sods the Poles had to send his way though. Considering the way they carried themselves through the cold, he could see their pampered softness and fragility of mind and body that was so common for most civilians to emanate, like an aura.

I was expecting someone more mature, in all honesty.[i] Lukov thought, cracking a grimace of disappointment as the two men, from what Lukov gouged off their pins, were employees of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. A pair of eyesores who had the audacity to approach him.

With that, which was most important of all.

‘’There is no need to announce who you are to me gentlemen,’’ Punchev announced to the two men,’’I am already familiar with the [i]sources that were so illustrious and noble in providing us the crucial tip to prevent these unfortunate would-be thieves from obtaining what they want...and getting away with it.’' He paused for a second. ‘’And yet, I am at a loss here, good sirs!’’ The Baron exclaimed right after the last remark,’’ Perhaps you can be kind enough to aid me in unravelling the answer to this bothersome query -- why exactly did you come if you have not successfully retrieved this one and all, obvious piece of property that your Ambassador was so keen on coveting from a rather respectable - until recently - private property owner?’’

"Your excellency, there are only four of us." One of the moles admitted. "Our Ministry could not send more than four of us. Furthermore the thieves are well-armed; our current plan, as it is, is to slowly reason with the more moderate and rational elements of our mission in order to induce them to leave the thieves to their fate. We require assistance from our home ministry, however, and as the plane's satellite uplink is monitored and of limited capacity, our only option would be if you could be so kind as to provide us with a landline or some other form of communication with our government."

‘’First of all good sir -- I have no intention on sounding off on any gloomy forecast, but in your case; I am afraid that you happen to be working on a rather limited time frame.’’ The Baron contended, moving on to their request,’’ As for your communication problem - I think there is a way to resolve this little hurdle.’’

Punchev cast his focus away from the men, as he brought up the walkie-talkie he had carried with his one hand, up to him, tinkering with the handheld’s frequency setting, before finding the exact one,

‘’Svetoslav, may you be so kind to bring the Black Dolphin ove tor where I and these two honorable personalities are.’’ Punchev voiced his command into the radio, the language barrier between Polish and Cassadian clearly glaring, as only when the sight of the imposing, opulent-looking sight of an elongated, G-Wagon came into their sight, did the two Polish men comprehended what the Baron had in mind.

Pulling over in front of them, the vehicle blocked the three men, from the view of the Polish’compatriots over in the plane and the convoy.

Taking a few steps over to the backseat side-door, the Baron opened the obviously, heavy armor plate door, stepping on one step on the step-platform to peer into it, and saying something again in that usual gruff-sounding Cassadian’’Dima, may you pass me the satellite if you will -- thank you.’’

The Baron would turn around to produce, what was a bulky, black box with an earphone -- an old piece of technology that was a throwback to the 90s.

‘’I hope that you can be quick, in any of your exchanges with the colleagues over at your MFA. After all, I don’t like to say it, but considering your institutions -- I am afraid to state that we have been receiving some very conflicting messages on your part.’’ Punchev sonorously voiced, before nodding that, let the Polish know, they were clear to speak and use this curious antiquated contraption.

"We're working on it back home." The mole affirmed. "Thank you, your Excellency."
After a few seconds of examining the device, the mole picked up the phone and began dialing home.

‘’No need to thank me, you are the one who is racing against time. Not me.’’ The Aristocrat remarked with an inappropriate nonchalance as if he was addressing a petty matter, rather than a powder keg that had the potential to set off a wider, inter-regional war.
The mole nodded and then began to speak into the telephone. “Connect me with the Foreign Minister Immediately. This is urgent.”

The conversation proceeded in rapid-fire Polish, but at the end, the mole nodded and hung up. He turned to Lukov. “Before the night is out the Ministry of Foreign Affairs will give you permission to arrest any members of the departing delegation suspected of committing crimes; however, we do not know if more unstable parts of our government may attempt to counteract this. Still, it should make the task of reasoning with our colleagues easier. We, and the reasonable people of Prussia-Poland, are in your debt, your Excellency. Many thanks.”

Telewizja Polska - Carthage Hotel

"Wilhelm!"

The young woman shook her partner awake. "Get the fucking crew up! Bullshit at the airport!"

"...ehh?" The cameraman slurred. "Didn't we...we covered the departure of the embassy already, no?"

"Well, something fucking went wrong because now half of Carthage PD is there! Let's go!"

"What?"
Wilhelm bolted up. "Marta Kaczyńska, are you shitting me?"

"I will hang myself from our satellite dish if I am. Let's go!"

Warsaw - Chancellery
Radziwiłł rubbed the sleep from his eyes turned on the TV.

Almost immediately, however, he regretted it.

“-Kaczyńska. As you can see behind me, Carthage Law Enforcement units and Cassadian military troops are currently blockading Charles von Peacekraft International Airport. This comes right as the embassy is due to be evacuated in light of the assassination of Adlopovna Gazgireyeva, nuclear testing, and the increasing likelyhood of war between the Holy Kingdom and the Royal Commonwealth of Palmyrion. We are currently attempting to find a member of the local law enforcement units with the ability to comment, as well as access to the departing delegation-”

Radziwiłł sat up almost immediately, and grabbed the phone.
“Get me Świetlicki.” He muttered into the phone.

Across the city of Warsaw, the sun arose, and as the news broke on several channels, many ignored it as they headed to work. But a few smiles were had, in the halls of Warsaw Castle, the Abwehr Garrison, and the Ministry of Defense Building.

Lauzannean Embassy

Unlike most other nations, the Lauzannean Embassy was a fairly austere but cozy place, reflecting its homeland quite handily. Assigned to the Embassy were a handful of Airborne Reconnaissance Regiment soldiers, diplomatic staff, and headed by Valentin Szymański, the diplomat assigned to Lauzanne’s neighbor to the north. He was a friendly looking man, one who would share a drink with you at the bar. Brown hair, brown eyes, otherwise unremarkable. But seeing as the SVRL and Lauzannean Department of Foreign Relations had heard rumblings ever since Radziwiłł came to power, they knew they needed someone who was disarming enough, but could also keep his mouth shut. He had received an email about the situation, and the current commander of the guards, Lt. Tonči Kolar was similarly briefed, seeing as storm clouds were brewing.
SVRL briefing… Things must be quite serious.

A glossy black Limousine pulled up to the gates of the embassy, and a short, bespectacled man, his lip hidden under a thick moustache and his body swaddled in a thick formal coat, walked up to the gate.

The pair of LDF guards quickly exchanged glances at each other, before looking at the man
“Uh… Hello. How can we help you?” the Corporal said, awkwardly waving at the very fancy looking man.

“Where is Ambassador Szymański? I am expected.”
The man tossed down some very formal looking credentials that identified him as Foreign Minister Świetlicki.
As if on cue, the phone rang. The Corporal grabbed it, listening, nodding, before simply saying “Da.” and motioning to open the gate.
“Right on time. Go right in, Minister Świetlicki” the Corporal responded, giving the man plenty of room to pass easily between them.
The man grunted and passed inside without a second thought. The chauffeur, once the man was out of sight, looked apologetically at the two gate guards, but did not say a word. They responded by quietly snickering while looking at him, making fake mustaches with their fingers to lighten the mood.

The chauffeur wheezed and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered them to the soldiers. They accepted, the Ryadovoy lighting up one for the three as they struck up a light conversation.

“What a fucking peacock.” the chauffeur groused. “He’s not bright either. He tried bugging the car; I found it and fucked with it.”
The Corporal rolled his eyes, taking a puff
“Ah, the LT and the Diplomat'll sort him out.”
“The only thing that’ll sort him out is a nine-millimeter brain hemorrhage.” the chauffeur replied, bitterly. “Man sucks Cassadian cock like you wouldn’t imagine. Maybe even literally, I don’t know what he was doing with the Cassadian ambassador in the back before they left.”
“Talking mad shit as always. Cassadians are like that, like the Bulgarian Summer. He’s not worth the bullet, it’s better to let someone like that live and be mad.” Mention of the Bulgarian Summer causes the two guards to snicker even louder. “All that money and they have no fucking idea. Tragic.”
“Aye. Shame we had to let them go in peace with what they're doing now.”
“Ah, they won’t get away with it in the long run.” the Corporal commented, taking another puff.
“Hope so too. Sooner or later; there’ll be a reckoning.”

Inside of the embassy

As soon as Świetlicki entered the ambassador’s office, he began.
“Ambassador, I must protest a certain action by your country. You have sent diplomats and...a woman. Lyun. No last name. She is one of your agents, no? You have sent them to assist the hairbrained schemes of one of my rogue employees.”

“Greetings, Minister. I’ve recently been briefed on this, as a matter of fact. The woman you call ‘Lyun’ is a bit of an enigma, I don’t know much about her myself. But I know that apparently she does this kind of thing a lot. As for the diplomats… Well, it’s only natural we send impartial observers to prevent any diplomatically underhanded moves, not to mention trying to prevent a shootout. Remember, if Poland-Prussia goes to war, then it is likely Lauzanne does too.” Szymański answered, calmly putting his hands together before pointing at the modest drink cabinet.
“Something to drink, Minister?”
“No.” Świetlicki replied, furrowing his eyebrow. “This is a private matter between Prussia-Poland and Cassadia. We are currently in the process of talking down our Ambassador and the guard contingent; they appear to have stolen something very valuable to Cassadia. If that fails we will work with local Cassadian law enforcement to attempt to rectify the situation.”
“As I said, Minister. If your guard contingent or their police or paramilitaries get trigger happy, then Lauzanne will be forced to intervene in a costly defensive war it does not wish to enter. As for the ‘thing’ they have taken, she is an LPU. Hardly the most valuable thing in Cassadia.”
“No war will happen, Ambassador. I am confident that Cassadia will not throw away our diplomatic progress to recover it, and that our staff will not be so insane as to throw away their lives over it.”
“As I understand it, the man on the ground is a rather… Colourful individual. Are you sure that he will practice restraint in such a situation? Given the tensions with Palmyrion too, they could use it as justification to launch an invasion or other similar wartime efforts.”

“We have contingency measures prepared if our rogue ambassador or guard contingent proves intransigent; we have embedded several trustworthy men in contact with Cassadian authorities to negotiate a...separate agreement, should the guards neglect their duties.”

Szymański raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so? Well, given our man on the ground is an excellent diplomat and negotiator with excellent people skills, sniper-like focus, and excellent grasp on details, he’ll be able to assist with any negotiation. He’s a Prince, too.” Is this guy a fucking moron? Szymański thought to himself, not changing his expression at all. He wanted his newest friend to continue talking.

As a matter of fact, Świetlicki was indeed a moron. "I will say again. Your man on the ground is not needed."

“I will say it again. My man on the ground will ensure that people don’t develop cowboy attitudes with regional wars on the line.”

"I will say it again; such attitudes will only exist on our end and we have our own men in place to deal with any such occurances."

“With all due respect, if your men were competent then they would not have guns pointed at them. Lauzanne and Prussia-Poland have been friends for almost as long as the two of us have been independent from the Soviets, and seeing as impartial observers are needed anyways, they will allow for greater transparency in dealings. Lauzanne will not be the first nation to send observers to this standoff, and they will certainly not be the last. If you want my man to try and work with your so-called ‘trustworthy men’, then I can pass it along to my Director for consideration.” Szymański’s voice took on the slightest hint of hardness, the friendly attitude dropping a little bit.
“As you said anyways, a Lauzannean individual is also on that plane, therefore it is our problem. Even if you wish to reject our help for a country that tried to backstab you, we will observe how our own people conduct themselves. Am I clear, Minister Świetlicki?”

"Fine." Świetlicki exhaled. "I will pass along their information to you shortly."
Świetlicki turned and left. Almost the minute he did, however, Szymański's phone rang.
Szymański was quick on the draw, putting the phone to his ear and leaning into it as he indicated to the good Lieutenant still in the room to get the both of them something to drink.
“Lauzannean Embassy, how may I help you?” He asked, his voice clear and professional.

"Szymański!" A warm and friendly voice sounded from the other side of the phone. "You sly son of a dog! It's me, Andre!"

“Andre, you dirty old bastard. Have you been keeping healthy?” He pulled out a pen, prepared to write anything down. He rarely got calls that were not important.

The Minister of War seemed to shuffle his papers. "My agents on the ground tell me that the moron has just left the embassy. He didn't give you too much trouble, I hope?"

“Nothing that I couldn’t handle, of course. To what do I owe the pleasure today?”

Kuczera's voice grew grave. "Well, unfortunately I'm not calling for fun. I'm not sure if this line is safe either; one of Radziwiłł's cousins is now the Chief of the Warsaw Metropolitan Police."

“There will be Hell to pay if they have tapped a phone line for an embassy.”

"I agree. Unfortunately, Radziwiłł is as stupid as his paymasters and it may run in the family. Say, they're serving fried pork pierogi and fries at the Guards Cuirassiers canteen; mind joining me for lunch in an hour or so?"

“Do I get to bring my Lieutenant along?”

"As far as I'm concerned you could bring over the entire staff."

“Well, unfortunately I do have to make it look like they are doing work. I’ll be down as soon as possible.” Szymański replied, showing the good Lieutenant Kolar a scribbled note as he hung up.

LINE NOT SECURE - DISCUSS AT MILITARY MESS HALL. Kolar nodded, looking at the already-poured alcohol, shrugging and pouring it back into the bottle.

Guards Cuirassiers Garrison Mess Hall

Szymański and Kolar stepped into the mess hall, the smell being familiar to both of them. Szymański had served in the Refusal War, as did many males of his age who ended up in fairly high positions. Kolar was still a serving member, and officially he was with the Airborne Reconnaissance Regiment, but in reality, he was far more than that. They both took a seat on a fairly out of the way table, waiting for their man to arrive.

A few mechanized infantrymen, passing by, recognized the two and threw the pair smiles and occasionally a salute as they went out their own tables or to some other errand. Soon, two men arrived; the fresh-faced Minister of War, Andrzej Kuczera, and an middle-aged, severe-looking man in the fatigues of a West German NCO -- Crassus von Hohenzollern-Jagiellon, King of Prussia and Poland.

The two quietly took seats across from Szymański and Kolar. Kuczera grinned at the ambassador and extended his hand for a handshake. "Greetings! Good to find you in good health, Szymański."
He met the handshake after standing, choosing to sit only when it was completed.
“No need for last names. Valentin will do.” Szymański stated.
“Tonči.” the good lieutenant replied, his light blue beret and striped blue shirt visible under his digital camo fatigues instantly identifying him as one of Lauzanne’s elite. Of course, the beret was off and under one epaulette, seeing as they were indoors.
“So. No bugs here?” Valentin leaned in, looking around.
"None." Crassus replied, with a nod. "I've made sure of it."
“Good. What would you like to know then, friends?” Valentin asked, leaning back and relaxing. Tonči sat rigid, quietly listening.

"I am sure that both of you know of Andre's little project." Crassus replied, beginning to dig into his food. "Freeing a girl from Cassadia is no little feat. As it is, though, we have run into a hitch…?"

Andre nodded, and seemed a little disappointed. "Well, yes. We are still projected to gain the same effects. But we lose the girl if Cassadia decides to reclaim her by force. But we can't leave either. A standoff is what we have."
“Quite the situation we’re in, indeed. However, given the fact that before that mustache-clad moron came in to demand we fuck off, I got a briefing from the fucking SVRL. This is some good stuff…”
Tonči was quietly eating his meal, still listening in.
Crassus nodded. "I see. I presume you are keeping this information to yourself?"
“No secrets between friends. What would you like to know?” Valentin smiled warmly.
Andre seemed nonplussed, but overcame his shock. "...First, who does the MFA have there on the ground? They obviously have their moles, but who are they?"
“He said he would pass along the information to me. To allow our guy to ‘Better assist the situation’. Nothing yet, though.”
Andre wheezed and Crassus' eye bulged. "What the fuck?!" Andre gasped, in-between heaves of laughter. "Holy shit, what an idiot!"

Crassus' face remained firm, but it was a clear struggle against the urge to laugh.

“It gets better. He got really upset that we have someone on the plane. Her name’s Lyun, apparently. No last name, and her fucking date of birth is single-digit years ago and her birthplace is listed as ‘Forest near Igrane AB.’”

"What the fuck?" Crassus interrupted. "Are you sure she's...safe?"

He then looked at Tonči. Who nodded.
“I’ve worked with Lyun, she does shit with us all of the time. Total enigma of a woman though, they call her the Forest Spirit. Kids love her, and I’m pretty sure she hospitalised two young adults who were squeezing lemons into a kid’s eyes about a year or so ago.” Tonči added, as Valentin leaned in.
“SVRL briefing also covers the two very specific individuals sent as the so-called diplomatic team. One’s a formidable negotiator in the Black March Conflict, the other is a dead ringer for the task. A Prince, to boot.”
Tonči stopped.
“Leonid Alyuk?” He asked, turning to Valentin in surprise. He nodded. The pair then looked at their Polish counterparts. Tonči had a look with gravitas, but Valentin had a mischievous smile.
“Sranje…” Tonči cursed in a low voice.
Crassus seemed confused. “Who?”
Andre, however, seemed to recognize the name. “...he was at Welzat, no? Fine work.”
Tonči shook his head
“They’re sending Nataliya Vantcheva there. She was the one at Welzat. But Alyuk…”
“... Alyuk is something else entirely.” Valentin looked to him, his smile going from mischievous to serious.
“You’ve worked with him?”
“That, and he has a reputation. Don’t you remember that weird kind of Christian cult?”
“... Oh Shit, he’s that fucking Leonid Alyuk?”
Tonči nodded.
“His reputation precedes him. If the SVRL wants a big fucking problem to go away, then he’s the one they call. The times I’ve worked with him, he’s like a Terminator. One time he drew a gun on one of the men when they were going for a piss, and that’s not the first time it’s happened, either. Man has loose screws all over the place, seeing as his own mother almost kidnapped him to crucify him… about 11 years ago?. But there’s few with his dedication and skill set. Last I heard he was assigned to investigate the car-bombing but if they brought him in for this... “ Tonči trailed off.
“Damn.” Andre quietly said. “Sounds like a piece of work. You planning on couping Carthage or something?”
“Probably using him to knock that Baron down a peg or two, but given the gravity of the situation there’s few people the SVRL would call up for the task. We don’t do coups, but the man has a fucking killer pokerface. Although... “ Tonči trailed off again.

Crassus leaned in. “Yes?”

“Given the shit he went through as a kid, he’s going to get involved.”

“That works out perfectly, then.” Andre replied. “If he can get the girl out we’d be in our debt, and his.”

“Getting involved like that is bad news, and I pray to the Gods he can get her out. For our sakes, and his. I’ve never seen him involved before, and I’m not liking this.”
“So… what exactly are we dealing with?”
“A man with screws loose, balancing your country and mine on a knife edge for a girl.”
Crassus seemed pensive. “This girl. What’s her name again? Bell, yes? She’s an LPU, no?”
“That is correct.” Andre replied. “But…”
“And LPUs… the rumors about them, we’ve all heard them, no?”
“Yes, but-”
“Then by all means I see no issue at all with your man working to get her out. We win whether she gets out or not, but we win so much more if she does, and if you ask me, all the better if it’s the right thing to do.”
“Confirmation of the rumours from a living source would be huge. No wonder why they’re going to such extreme lengths. Rumours can’t kill your reputation, but this?” Valentin joined in.
“They could still...how do you say this.” Crassus searched for the right words, drumming his fingers on the table as he did so. “They could still cast doubts on her legitimacy, no? Call her a plant?”
“Given Cassadia’s influence compared to their opponents? No. And if I’m not mistaken they’ve locked that down tighter than a Nun’s drawers. Why go to so much effort for a so-called plant?”
“True.”
“We live in interesting times…” Valentin mused.
“Isn’t that a curse?” Andre replied.
“When suggesting one should live in interesting times, yes. But we are already there, I believe.”
“Aye. Let’s just ride it out the best we can.”
Andre stood, along with Crassus. “Thank you for coming.” Crassus said. “And...good luck.”
“You too, I hear shit might get messy in the next couple of days. If you need a place to crash, the embassy’s doors are open and we have a machinegun.”

As the Cassadian blockade tightened, a white van pulled up to the edge of the police blockade. After a brief while, the nearest Cassadian who looked like he had authority would be ambushed by a young, brown-haired woman with a completely innocent, inquisitive smile and a microphone, and a burly man behind her, wielding a camera as if it was an anti-tank weapon.

"Hi!" she would begin. "I'm Marta Kaczyńska with Telewizja Polska. Can you provide further information on the current situation?"

‘’I apologize but I cannot provide you with any comment pertaining to the situation at the airport at this time.’’ Said the obviously grumpy officer, annoyed of his lot, that he had to handle such a bunch.’’ It would be in our best interests if you are to refer any questions that you may have, towards our relevant press secretaries of the Carthage Constable, the General Reconnaissance Bureau...and not bother me or my colleagues from doing our job.’’

The reporter nodded, undeterred, and went off to find someone else to bother. This would continue for now.

by **Polish Prussian Commonwealth** » Thu Mar 04, 2021 2:14 pm

Qassadia wrote:Royal Department of Foreign Affairs

Word of the standoff at Emperor Charles International Airport spread quickly, as underchamberlains and under-secretaries whipped verbally their underling into springing into action; writing communique to the many Foreign Missions that were stationed in Cassadia, providing explicit clarification of the context of events, and the underlying cause that had induced certain elements in the Crown-Government in mobilizing such a strong-handed response against what was, by a lack of a better word - a mere case of stolen private property, even in this case it involved a ''property'' that was breathing, living, human being.

Code: Select all
EMERGENCY DIPLOMATIC WIRE Recipient: Ministry of Foreign Affairs of The Polish-Prussian Commonwealth Sender: Office of the Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs It has come to our attention, based on corroborated evidence from sources within your Diplomatic Mission, that certain individuals from within the staff have plotted, abetted, solicited and encouraged the progressive criminal incitement towards LPU and property owner, including a scheme to steal and smuggle said Living Property Unit C-B7 #92357 out of the country by the same individuals from among your Foreign Mission. We of Her Majesty's Crown-Government would like to reiterate once again that the underlying cause for the stand-off lies squarely on the shoulders of the Ambassador who could have prevented this potential flashpoint in our bilateral relations, from turning into a highly-corrosive and fragile incident that we're afraid, may irrevocably damage any goodwill that may be found between our two peoples. Time has not yet passed, for this stain to be wiped clean - and to have a new unblemished page be turned for the prospects of Cassadia-Polish ties. We on behalf of Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena (I) Von Peacekraft, submit with great humility and sadness; our request to apprehend members of the Polish delegation so long as they forcefully maintain LPU C-B7 #92357 and refuse to return it under its legal private owner, as our laws stipulate, which to remind your government, had verbally and legally; agreed to follow both in letter and spirit. Thus, we ask that you honour our commitment, as much as we from the Crown-Government have offered ours. Lest our side is compelled under the duress of circumstance to take further measures up to, and including, physical measures as a last resort, to have the aforementioned piece of stolen private property, be handed over in our possession. I Have The Honour To Be Sergei Lavrov Royal Deputy Secretary of Foreign Affairs

The turnaround from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was extremely rapid - so was, however, the response of it's rival, the Ministry of War.

Code: Select all: PUBLIC COMMUNICATION Recipient: Office of the Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs Sender: Ministry of Foreign Affairs of The Polish-Prussian Commonwealth On behalf of His Majesty, the People of Prussia-Poland, and the Prime Minister, I hereby authorize Cassadian agents to arrest all employees of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs who continue to illegally hold stolen property. I bid your men godspeed in acting rapidly to restore order to what could turn into a worst-case situation for Cassadia and the Commonwealth's friendly relations. Sincerely, and with hope for future friendly relations; - Foreign Minister Świetlicki.

Code: Select all: PUBLIC COMMUNICATION His Majesty hereby authorizes all elements of the Carthage Garrison and all elements of the Guards Hussars presently in the so-called 'Holy Kingdom of Cassadia' to engage with lethal force any individual, whether a Prussian-Polish citizen or a foreign agent, who attempts to injure, detain, or kidnap any member of the Prussian-Polish delegation or any asylum-seekers and Prussian-Polish citizens taking refuge with the consulate. Any successful attempt at kidnapping, assault, or detainment will be treated as an act of war against the Commonwealth and a violation of the principle of Diplomatic Immunity. Lex iniusta non est lex; - Minister of War Kuczera - Crassus von Hohenzollern-Jagiellon, King of Prussia and Poland - Field Marshal Aleksander Kowalczyk - Masovian Military District Ground Forces Command - Royal Prussian-Pomeranian Military District Ground Forces Command

by **Qassadia** » Thu Mar 04, 2021 7:20 pm

the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia
Carthage

The lesser, Carthage International Airport, was an aerodrome that was nothing to write much about—the only feature that the airport could reasonably raise an eyebrow was the older and more opulent Noveau Art architectural production of brick and marble, made during an era where flying on an airplane was considered to be something for those of higher social status and wealth. A beautiful sight that however was spoiled by the eyesore of an Air Traffic Control Tower, adjacent to the right, behind the building; spoiling the architectural aesthetic with its tall, superstructure of glass, steel, and plastic that rose over the historically-old and well-preserved buildings like a great ugly serpent that the tower was. It had a moderate capacity for traffic that was expanded in the 1970s with the extension of the existing runway and the construction of maintenance and storage hangars; Cassadia didn’t get a lot of foreigners through this airport as most of the international traffic including bigger passenger airliners used the newer Emperor Charles (VII) International Airport (then called Emperor Christian IX).

It now mostly accepted local traffic of smaller (but no less lacking in traffic) regional airliners and air cargo services that hauled precious cargo, equipment, or goods from one end of the country to another - a far faster, efficient, but expensive mod of transportation. The most common plane on the run-ways and taxi-ways were locally manufactured An-74s, An-24s (built under the Cassadian brand Corvette), and Boeing 707s

However not far off were a small group of other people, unlike the attendant and many others in the airport. Who apart from their ordinary behavior of looking down at their phones, browsing the airport's duty-free shops, and gathering luggage before usually leaving through the airport's entrance. They stood behind a long table and lines were going in two directions around them.

Most of the travelers were other Cassadian, and as it was the capital, it was as busy as it always had been, so people seemed to be in acting in a hectic way. Staff in the uniform bearing the airport's particular badge and colors swept floors, examined luggage, gave directions. Balaclava-donned men belonging to the National Guard acted as security, the sight of their gear of urban camouflage ODs with plate carriers over it and carrying highly modified M4 assault rifles and Glock pistols would see that their presence conveyed a tense atmosphere if one looked at the general direction of these defenders of public order and the country -- which was the Empress.

A line of seven Range Rover Discovery L4 pulled over on the tarmac, out of which exited men in suits, each bearing an identical badge-pin of the General Reconnaissance Bureau that adorned their suit jackets. They were from the 4th Directorate, a department established specifically to protect important Crown-Government officials.

From among this assembly, was a slim-bodied curvaceous young woman with freckled, smooth white skin wearing a white scarf, polished fingernails, black high heels, in what was suit apparel, smilingly greeted new arrivals as they got off their plane. Those items were all that she wore. “Welcome to the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia, I am Slavya Nemenskova, undersecretary to Joachim Von Peacekraft, Secretary of Foreign Affairs to Her Majesty's Crown-Government!” She said respectfully, continuing,'' Unfortunately, His Excellency was not able to receive you personally, due to having to travel to the German Empire for a very important official visit.''

Slavya bowed courteously. “Your accommodations for the Four Seasons Hotel have been booked and prepared in advance, so you'll be able to get yourselves settled. Other than that, we hope that you can grow to see Carthage as if it is your home,” The long-legged secretary said with great warmth.''Please, let my colleagues handle your luggage and have it loaded and secure. I assure you these vehicles are far more well protected than it meets the eye.''

With a turn towards the arranged motorcade and a nod, the pretty expression of the Royal Secretary's favorite underling had been enough to seemingly make two members of the sharp-dressed entourage step forward as they politely requested the Lauzaneans to relinquish the hold on their luggage, quickly marching back over to the cars before nimbly loading them into the trucks while Slavya guided the members of the foreign delegations over to the cars. With the motorcade setting off shortly thereafter out of the airport from a staff entrance - providing the Lauzaneans with the privilege of not going through any TSA or customs authorities.

A foreigner would be hard-pressed to immediately notice anything was up in Carthage. The main stretch close to the airport was a large sleek high-tech manufacturing district, with warehouse-shaped buildings enclosed around a high brick wall that turned this quarter into a mini-district. Like satellites around the factories were service companies that had yards of materials, pools of specialized as well as utility vehicles.

A view from the cars on the way to the hotel revealed a lot a continuous line of shops that occupied the ground floors, its advertisements and glass displays constructed in a way that one would have the impression one was in a central or western European country, and not a nation which had an autocratic, absolute monarchy where owning living human beings was an established, legal practice.

The part through which the convoy rumbled through was comprised almost universally of older and more refined architecture, with stretching great tenement buildings constructed mostly in the Art nouveau style. A part of town where there were very few buildings taller than thirteen stories.

Wide boulevards lined by buildings on opposite sights to tower over the roads, towered over the activity below, like great rocks between which flowed an endless river. The boulevard roads were the most modern sight among these old relics through which passed an almost never-ending stream of automobiles, trucks, vans, and other larger-scale transit; with trams and trolleybuses having the luxury of not getting stuck in the most common sight of Carthage that was traffic congestion because of the sheer volume of vehicles on the roads, as they had their own separate lines through which only these specific mods of transportation could pass, with bus or tram stops having almost all connected with both sides of the boulevard sidewalks through pedestrian over-bridges of glass and steel, or subterranean underpasses which doubled as entrance to the metro. All for a scheme to alleviate the traffic of the Cassadian Crown Jewel - a success story only partially realized.

Some areas of the city looked ancient, with classical, Baroque, or late Renaissance buildings with arches, domed churches, ancient stone, and brick, others looked brand new.

With the convoy that transported the Lauzanean delegation, having to stop at a red light at an intersection - the foreigners had a golden opportunity to drink in the sights that Carthage offered, all the while the burdensome traffic raged all around them, with the bulky rumble on of a tram passing them by to their right.

Until...the distant overwhelming sound of rotors suddenly crept from an unknown distance, coming closer and closer until a dash of a Blackhawk helicopter passed above the building rooftops and of the heads of the convoy down below. Behind the helicopter, six other Blackhawks trailed the first one in a loose spear line which the sight of the additional rotorcraft composed, as they passed them likewise as well. Heading to the convoy's southwest.

''The National and Royal Guard tend to stage counter-terrorist drills every once in a while. As you just saw -- it happens without warning. '' Slavia called from the front passenger's seat.''It is to maintain an optimum level of combat readiness if God-forbid, such a thing as the Krillin Trade Center plane attacks or the Metro Bombings is to ever occur again.''

The rest of the trip to the trip occurred more or less in silence, between the hosts and their guests, as the cars passed through the intersections to their planned eventual destination. Finally arriving at the Four Seasons Hotel after almost one and a half-hour of driving with the flow of the traffic, following the rules, and stopping at traffic lights.

The Four Seasons Hotel was one of those newer buildings, yet it was built in an architectural style that paid homage to the late Renaissance period. The building was a five-story construction that had been shaped to loosely resemble a castle as if out of a fairy tale, with its sharp, castle tower, at the corner of its eastern wing.

Settling down proved to be even less of a hurdle, as a small squad of porters descended upon the motorcade, with military-like precision in unloading the luggage of the delegation. Everything, as stated by Slavia - was prepared and arranged in advance, not even having to book anything other than have each person from the Lauzanean visitation. After that, it only took about a dozen minutes for each Lauzanean to be guided through the roomy, but well-maintained corridors to their suites.

''We hope that you have a great stay at our capital while you are on your assignment.'' Said Slavia as she bid them farewell, returning to the motorcade and then back to the Department of Foreign Affairs building, to continue with her duties, now that this bothersome task had been written off.

Department of Foreign Affairs

"This is the worst possible time for them to come," said Sergei Lavrov, the deputy to the Secretary of Foreign Affairs.

Slavya Nemenskova, the Senior Undersecretary, was a woman of pure Slavic stock, with fair white skin, slender height, "I agree, Excellency but it cannot be helped," said Slavya calmly. "But let us put on a good show of things. It must be demonstrated that we are a hospitable people with laws and not just some barbaric brutes who hold nothing to value or sacredness."

"Easy for you to say," said Lavrov with a shake of his head. "Now with the confrontation at the airport at hand, I am not sure how this can be presented to our new guests - Oh well, so long as no diplomatic laws are violated, then I guess we'll be able to bend them, to our advantage to attain success...Lukov should be aware of this."

''I am sure he is, Your Excellency.'' The pretty underling remarked,'' The supposed bloodshed that usually happens in such situations is yet to occur -- Lukov is a man who knows how to play his cards right.''

''And how would you know that?'' Asked the deputy secretary, almost sarcastic at Slavya's statements.

''My husband is on Lukov's personal bodyguard detail.''

''Oh, do tell about it.''

Political Dissident & LGBT Activist Assassinated(Semi-Open)

A Message to Faraby

The Long Wait-Part 4

A Reception of the Lauzean Visitation

Who is online