Separatist Village Bombed [MT|IC|SEMI-OPEN]

[Lauzanne]

“You’re sure about this, Director?” President Waffenschmidt asked, looking up from the dossier and raising his eyebrows at Director Marković, nodding.
“This attack may have been a one off, but we need to know for sure. Satellites don’t tell the entire picture, and given the gravity of the situation…” Marković trailed off, as Waffenschmidt looked at the two personnel, their dossiers coming attached with a picture each.

One agent, named Prince Leonid Vladimesca Alyuk was to be the senior operative. Experienced, with many successful missions over the years on his record. 17 confirmed kills, strong qualifications. A blonde man in his late 20’s, looked like he’d gotten about three days sleep in his entire life. His portrait sported a focussed stare with a slight scowl. The other agent, Melissa Lagunesci. Junior agent, with an unusually high Level 5 Clearance, early to mid 20’s. Blonde, bright green eyes, glasses and the complete opposite of Leonid in terms of demeanor.

“I’m not one to comment on how you work, Director. But… Are these two really going to be able to work together? They seem like entirely different people.” The comment made Marković grin in such a manner, the President regretted asking.
“Melissa is a rookie agent, but she’s the one that’s written the various reports on the nearby Air Forces that you’ve read. Very gifted when it comes to aircraft, and she’s pinpointed them to this base herself. If they are indeed about to strike again, she’ll know and get us the evidence she needs.”
“And Leonid?”
“Veteran agent, he’ll get her anywhere she needs to go and keep her safe. We’ll be using the classic tactic for infiltrating such an area, too. Narvik is a wonderful tourist destination, ski resorts and hotspots.” The President raised an eyebrow again.
“The classic tactic?”
“Well, who better to visit a lovely tourist trap than a married couple on their honeymoon?”

---

The Airport was filled with the hustle and bustle of travelers, both entering the country and leaving for far off lands. Among the press of people were two blonde figures, clad in all the necessary attire for a trip to a winter wonderland. The smaller woman was hugging the arm of the man as the pair pulled their luggage towards the last step on their airport journey.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” Leonid commented, causing the woman to squeeze harder.
“You’ve no idea the kind of dungeon they put me in, with that awful awful office. Time off to spend with you… I’m in heaven.” Melissa sighed, a big smile on her face as they approached the counter.
The clerk was a fairly unremarkable man, with light brown hair and a plain face as he looked at the pair.
“Welcome to Aureumterra, your passports?” He asked, to which Leonid and Melissa both handed them over. He looked at them, typing it up.
“Mr and Mrs… Popesca?” He asked, looking back up.
“Yes! We got married just the other week!” Melissa said, holding up her hand to show the engagement and marriage rings. The clerk smiled, nodding
“Congratulations. Always good to see newlyweds. Going anywhere in particular?”
“Narvik! We’re going to have a wonderful time there!” Melissa said, giving Leonid a kiss on the cheek.
“Yeah. It was a surprise gift for her.” Leonid explained, to which Melissa hugged his arm tighter
“You’re the best husband around!”
The clerk checked off all the paperwork, returning the passports with a big smile on his face.
“I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Have a nice stay!” He said, waving them as they left, Melissa planting another kiss on Leonid’s cheek to show off. As they took the passports and said their goodbyes, Melissa beamed as Leonid looked dead inside.
“You didn’t have to go all out, you know.”
“I know, Draga. But I don’t get to do this often, either”
“Well, enjoy it while you can, Zhena”

The pair made their way outside to the brisk Nordic weather, securing a hire car for the week and setting their destination on the way to Narvik.
“... We’re not going directly there?”
“We need to get your equipment, Zhena. And some protection. Gun protection.”
“I’m amazed we can even smuggle things in…”
“Aureumterra is a big place.”
Leonid then put the car in gear, heading for the town along the way.

[New Aeyariss]

*** Ishikawa, Nifon

He was the Shogun of Nifon - ruler of a vast empire stretching from frozen wastes of Mirsk, to the hot tropical forrests of Potomiak. He was the one who murdered his best friend to get power - an act that broke him for generations to come. And here he sat, at the balcony in Akagi castle, observing the neon-filled landscape of Ishikawa. The "jewel of Orient", magnificent capital... and a source of rottenness for the entire world.

The ruler of Nifon, possessor of the Mandate of the Heaven, took a simple sip of tea. Fragrance of it filled his nostrils, as he continued to drink the cold liquid. Then he looked westwards - to the darker part of the city. Here laid Karamuncho - the ever gloomy underbelly of Ishikawa, where dark interests took place and criminals dwelt.

But were his own politicians any better?

Maki remembered how his revolution started. In the name of Emperor they rose against corrupt regime, only for his own regime to turn as corrupt as the past one. His allies, once proclaiming themselves noble champions of Christianity and nationalism, morphed into twisted parodies of their past selves, proclaiming to live by tenements of their faith in public and violating every commandment in private. Esotericism, officially banned, in practice flourished among the upper class, which developed an obsession with seances, meditation or palm readings to fill the spiritual void left by their rejection of Christianity. And he was left with only a small group of loyalists, trying to prevent a swamp of immense proportions from doing what it should do and collapsing under it's own weight.

With that, he turned and picked up the phone:

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, Kojiro-sama. The Delegates should be arriving at any time now."

"Ensure they reach the Akagi castle in safety. And get Tokugawa-san here. I am going to need her services."

In truth, the Shogun distrusted his minister of foreign affairs. The Baroness of Kariwa - every beautiful despite her age - was a typical member of Nifonese upper class that did not take her faith seriously. But she was also a member of an ancient Nifonese clan with connections in the world of international business and politics, her surname opening doors that surname "Maki" couldn't open. It was useful to have her around, even if she criticised his foreign policy choices.

[Aureumterra III]

Höll Glæsilegt
The Imperial Palace of Aureumterra was simultaneously a massive office building, meeting place, and a place of residence. As such, it was a tremendously busy place, requiring a large number of staff to keep everything in the palace running, while some areas of the sprawling palace were quieter than others, a general sense of organized tranquility echoed throughout its snaking corridors and opulently decorated rooms. Hundreds of servants, staff, maids, security personnel, and government officials made their way around the palace during the busy days, and yet one would be reasonable to think it was a quiet and uneventful place at first glance.

It had been a couple days since the meeting. Jørn Bonde quickly walked through the long and winding hallways of Aureumterra’s primary Imperial Palace. The beautifully painted and intricately decorated hallways were a work of art on their own. The roofs were painted with scenes of the Bible, from Genesis to the conquests of Joshua to the tales of Noah and Jonah. Sculptures and busts from artists throughout the Empire’s history lined the sides, marked occasionally with couches and seats. Large paintings hung at intervals, depicting the entirety of the Empire’s history, from the Great Northern Crusade and the founding of the Empire by Cnut I.

The Chief Minister had little time to admire the palace’s intricacies, however, as he had been summoned. He didn’t pay much attention to the business around the palace as he made his way, carrying himself in a determined yet dignified manner exemplary of his position. He wore his usual buttoned down shirt, tie, and blazer jacket, which displayed a pin signifying his position in the Crown’s bureaucracy. He walked down a long corridor with a massive, gleaming chandelier hanging down from the ceiling. The corridor ended at a set of fine oak double doors, guarded by the ever present Keisaravörður guardsmen.

Bonde approached them, and stated his presence, “Jørn Bonde, I have been summoned here.” They wordlessly opened the doors leading in, keeping a neutral, almost robotic face, as they were dedicated to their sacred duty.

The doors led Bonde into a room that looked similar to an office, though it had a set of couches and a flat screen tv on one end, while a desk and large thronelike chair stood at the other. A window behind the chair looked out into the palace’s sprawling gardens, and the wall had a painting of Emperor Christian II, the man who had led the Empire through much of the 18th century. Another, smaller door entered the room from behind the desk, next to the window, though Bonde knew better than to go prodding around.

He took a seat on one of the couches while awaiting in the room, relaxing on its velvet cushions as he brooded. The situation had rapidly spiraled out of hand, as it seemed to him, and would continue to do so if the current course of action kept on. The Emperor had been stubborn, but in the end, there was little anyone could do without his consent. Many countries who had already had large sanctions on Aureumterra had scaled them up, especially Reinkalistan’s own new communist bloc. Relations with other nearby powers had further been jeopardized, and the need to keep Aureumterra vigilant was greater than ever. In his view, it was critical for Aureumterra to stop clinging to a relic of the bygone era. Plenty of other fellow colonizers had swiftly decolonized whilst still maintaining their former colonies in an economic prison of sorts, what amounted to neocolonialism. Spreading the defense of the Empire so far was a massive threat to its own security, along with isolating it from most of the world. Iceland however, was a core part of the Empire, and a historic land of the Nordic people, and as such would need to remain in Aureumterra at all costs, lest it be allowed to fall to communistic influence. The recent offers from Nifon, in Bonde’s eyes, offered a unique opportunity to realign and redefine Aureumterra, bringing it back on the world stage not as a bloated relic, but a warrior of a country with its fighting spirit revitalized.

His trip down memory lane, however, was abruptly ended as the smaller door opened up, a maid quickly announcing the entry of Aureumterra’s Empress-Consort. Ingrid walked in gracefully, giving off a demeanor of both authority and wisdom, as was her character. Bonde quickly rose to his feet, in line with traditional mannerisms, and prostrated himself.

She raised her eyebrows, “Chief Minister Bonde… I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable. Is there anything I can get you, coffee or the like?”

Bonde shook his head, “No thank you, Empress.”

She nodded and took a seat on the couch in front of Bonde, “Very well then.” She looked at the man across from her, “I would like to know your opinion - and please answer honestly - about the ongoing situation.”

Bonde gulped, “I am fully supportive of any decisions His Imperial Majesty sees fit, of course. We need to stand up to the Icelandic terrorists once and for all.”

The Empress had a slight smile form on her lip, “Go on. Not just about the insurgency… but about the world’s response and the… most intriguing offer made to us by our Evangelical brothers in the East.”

Bonde was visibly nervous now, “W-Well, in my place, I do personally like the idea of having an alliance with the Nifonese, especially now that the Cassadians have settled their petty dispute with them. The communists have taken collective action against us, Aureumterra would be on a suicide mission if we were to continue isolating ourselves rather than opening our boundaries to likeminded nations. Of course, I still defer to The Emperor in such matters, it is not-”

Ingrid laughed, prompting Bonde to give a confused, yet still tense look. “Do not take me as a fool. I am not here to interrogate you. I can assure that I won’t be holding anything against you. I know a lot about what happens around court, Minister Bonde. I am not naive enough to believe that everyone truly agrees with what Frederik is doing so far, or the course of action he will take.” She paused, “But in many regards I share your sentiments as well.”

Bonde’s eyes grew wide as he realized what was being implicated, “Forgive me for even uttering this thought if I am mistaken, Empress, but are you suggesting military action against the cro-”

Ingrid’s expression turned serious, “No, of course not. That is not even in the question.”

Bonde looked down, his heart racing in fear. He had spoken out of line, he could well be implicated as treasonous for what he had just suggested. “I apologize, I did not mean-”

He was cut off again by the Empress, “The issue is not him. I… can handle him, he is a great man whom I respect dearly. It is not easy dealing with all of this. The issue is a certain man in his vicinity, who has been influencing him towards everything that is going wrong with our status right now…” She looked Bonde in the eye, whom promptly nodded in understanding.

They both knew exactly who she was referring to, yet neither dared to speak any name for the walls had ears.

Ingrid continued, “Thankfully on this regard, he has given his approval towards engaging in talks with the Langenians and Nifonese. Though we may not like it, and it may prod at our honor a little, it is important we not needlessly aggress against countries such as those while the greatest threat to our existence continues to loom - the communists.”

Bonde nodded, “Indeed, and we have also sent a delegation to engage the Langenians in talks over in Nifon as well. We hope those talks go fruitfully, it is critical that they do at this point as to not threaten the already fragile stability at the moment.”

“One more thing.” Ingrid asked, “About the Icelanders… what are the chances of foreign intelligence interfering in our affairs there? Perhaps… it provides an opportunity for those who would support us rather than him to establish contact with us. In that sense, we may even do them a favor.” The Empress smirked, an expression reminiscent of that of a sly fox.

Bonde looked down, “This is a dangerous line to tread.”

Ingrid chuckled once again, giving a short gaze out of the window, “Please, Minister, I am well aware of the risks. That is why such a plan needs to be coordinated with far more people. I want you to inform me about these people in whom you have faith in.”

Bonde nodded again, “Yes Empress.”

“By tomorrow afternoon.” Ingrid added.

Bonde looked up, about to protest but deciding in his best judgments to suppress such sentiments. He bowed his head as he made his way to begin on his task.

“And, Minister,” The Empress remarks right as he was about to leave. Bonde froze, turning around and looking at the woman gazing him straight in the eye, an expression of authority and a sense of darkness in them.

“Do not even think of trying to double cross me. You will pay dearly for that. Is that clear?”

The minister did not speak for a couple seconds, paralyzed in anxiety, before responding, “Y-Yes. Of course.”

“Good. Now go on. If anyone inquires, we met to discuss household matters.”

[The Black Hand of Nod]

-Coastal Waters of Iceland-
The approval had been given for the Leshem to dispatch a team to Iceland for a recon and rebel contact mission, and with that order the ship had no choice but to obey, cutting speed and quickly unpacking the covert means to enter the nation. So far they had unloaded two small boats for deployment and was already preparing for possible air insertion if need be, but for now they'd have to do it the slow way. Even with central command working to slowly work their way into hacking the Icelandic defensive systems for now they were left with no choice but to send the 8 man team in by boat... a fast boat to Iceland.

The team was equipped as follows, six of the the team equipped with small arms with serial numbers filed off with a light mix of Automatic Weapons and a few anti-tank and Anti-Air missiles, all weapons that could easily be sourced from the Black Market, and all weapons that could easily be passed along as insurgent arms that could have been smuggled in at any time. The last three people however were unarmed, this group equipped with a far more dangerous weapon, money, for it was to be their job to try and get an initial buy in for the local rebel force. Even if it meant giving the rebels money to use to buy from their competitors the point was the rebellion here would need three things to succeed, political will, weapons, and capital, there was little the Black Hand could do to provide the first outside of provoking more attacks, but the latter, they could do much to provide the latter.

Still as the team was dispatched there were worries, sure their chart would take them past any patrolling vessels and observation, but once they were ashore they'd be going in blind, who knows who they'd run into, what the conditions would be, and if their words would even be listened too, and there was also the question of other parties, what would they do when they learned the Black Hand was now operating in this area, would they be opposed to their meddling, would they become rivals, or could this be a start to a wonderful business relationship. Time would tell sooner or later.

[Lauzanne]

The Aureumterran town of Herjangen was one of many quiet towns within the Empire, a short detour on the way to Narvik. Leonid was driving, with Melissa either glancing out the window or stealing looks at him.
“You look at me plenty enough in the office. What’s different?” Leonid asked, still focussed on the road as he followed the directions to their contact.
“Well, you’ve gone on long haul missions with Nataliya, Dmitri and Nastya… I wonder what it’s like.”
“Just like any other field deployment with an agent. Technically speaking, I’m your handler in this, given your qualifications.”
“I know, but field clearance qual is hard…” Melissa leaned back in her seat, sighing.
“Better you fail a dozen times and pass after having those lessons hammered in, than passing a shit course and getting found out.”
“I mean, I won’t even go out on that many missions. How much fieldwork does Mil Int even need?”
“All it takes is one mistake on any of those ‘rare’ missions, and you’ll be cut off and left to rot in a prison. Or worse, you’ll be tortured until you’re released at great cost to the SVRL and the country, and you’ll never be the same person again.” Leonid stated, causing Melissa to blanch.
“You’re right… I at least passed that. They didn’t tell me all of the specifics, only what we’ll do to the airbase… Where are we right now?” Melissa asked, noticing they were no longer on the main road.
“Herjangen, we have a contact here with our gear.”
“... Can we trust him?”
“Not particularly. I’ll do all the talking.”

They pulled up to a quaint house, two cars already in the driveway as they pulled to a stop, Leonid killing the ignition as the pair dismounted to make their way to the door. Leonid gently knocked.
An older, balding man opened the door, seemingly in his late 50s or so. He didn’t look any different from the locals, but spoke Lauzannean rather well, albeit with a distinct accent. He had been informed of the two agents. “I can see you are a man of the true faith.” He said to the two agents standing before him.
“And I feel so extraordinary. May we?” Leonid asked, the man smiling and opening their doors for him.
The man stepped aside to let the two in, who would walk into a pleasantly sized living room with a wooden finish on the walls, characteristic of this region of Aureumterra. A single couch lay across the front, with a kitchen right behind it, and a tv on the wall in front of it.
“You two can have a seat, I’ll go make some coffee, then we can talk about your vacation”
The pair sat on the couch, taking in the decor.

The entire house was clad in wood, with a crackling fire to keep the house warm. The man, known to the pair as Niko Ciobani, worked to make some coffee for the guests, as Melissa heard kids playing outside.
“You have kids?” Melissa asked, Niko nodding.
“Da, da. Emil and Saša. Good kids. Grew up here, too.” Niko explained, pouring out the dark brown liquid into three mugs.
“How old are they?”
“10 and 8, Emil’s birthday is next week. Sugar and milk?”
“One and milk.” Leonid answered
“Two and some milk, please.” Melissa added.
As the coffee was finished, Niko took the three mugs, setting them down at the table and placing a chair opposite them.

“So, I take it you two need the equipment that was delivered to me.”
“Remote camera, NV gear, mounts, and two handguns.”
“Do you know much about this place?”
“We know Narvik is a popular tourist town this time of year. Snowboarding and good views.”
“It’s also a favorite of the Royal Family.”
Melissa looked to Leonid, who was unfazed.
“That is not a problem. How far is the airbase?”
“About 10km out from the town, it is visible from one of the hotels, but you’ll likely need to get closer. There is a hill overlooking the base, with a clear view of it. But there are presence patrols.”
“That’s what the NV gear is for. Do the handguns have cans?”
“Da”
“Excellent. Thank you for this, Niko.”
“It is no problem. The faithful should do what they can to uproot this corrupt mockery of Christ’s word.”
“We will do our best to help.”
“Now, tell me about my old home, while we drink!”

[Aureumterra III]

His Imperial Majesty's Press Office

Official Release

---

All of the restrictions placed on foreigners present in the territory of Iceland are for the sole purpose of keeping foreign citizens safe within the borders of the Empire. The rising threats of terrorism on the island cannot be ignored and allowed to continue, and innocent civilians cannot keep being victims of their crimes. It is an established principle of international law that a sovereign is responsible for the safety of all of those who traverse through His land, and as such, HIM has decreed all foreigners to leave Iceland immediately until the threat of terrorism can be subdued. Failure to comply with this decree shall result in immediate deportation. Any evidence of contact made with terrorists and individuals with ties to terrorist groups shall result in arrest, detention, and subsequent sentencing based on the seriousness of the crime. Subversive activities against the Empire shall no longer go unforgiven.

[Aureumterra III]

Aureumterra 1 Soldiers Deployed for Peacekeeping and Counterterrorism Operations in Iceland, Martial Law Declared on Island March 2nd, 2022 Following an increase in terrorist attacks, such as the bombing of a restaurant in Reykjavik last year, the Imperial Army has commenced its largest domestic deployment since the Mittelafrika War. A deployment of around 10,000 personnel is to be expected over the course of the next week. Martial law has been declared on the island, as the Crown announced its intention to conduct a "large scale counterterrorism campaign" to permanently remove the militant groups on the island. The arriving soldiers were accompanied by an increasing display of air and naval power by the Empire around its metropole, conducting large scale exercises in the Baltic and North Seas. This follows a major military counterterrorism operation targeting militant cells in Isafjord took place last month. The deployment accompanied a public press release by the Crown announcing the intentions of the Imperial Army and Imperial Air Force in its role against the terrorists in Iceland. The deployment, overseen by Lieutenant Marshal Olaf Sigurdsson, is intended to secure the island in conjunction with more aggressive measures rooting out terrorist cells. "The Imperial Army is acting under the orders of HIM Emperor Frederik IV and with the direction of the Liutenant Marshal in undertaking this operation. It is intended to destroy the terrorists which have operated from Iceland since the 1980s once and for all." A press release from the Imperial Army’s press office read. "Until the island is secured and safe from any terrorist threats, the troops will remain in conjunction with specialized operations conducted by special forces to take out terrorist cells. In order to ensure a smoothness of operations and get rid of the terrorist threats permanently, civilian operations of local government bodies on Iceland will be dissolved. Any resident of Iceland who is found to have links to terrorists will face the full consequences they deserve." Following the announcement of the deployment, internet on the island was cut as part of the decree, and the regional administrative offices and bureaucracies were suspended. According to A1 correspondents, a strict curfew has been put in place on the entire island. Any unauthorized vehicles or civilians found outside during curfew times are to be apprehended and investigated. Deployed soldiers are also tasked with patrolling and peacekeeping in the island’s largest cities, along with conducting direct operations in the highlands. The Crown has also announced plans to evacuate and relocate portions of the island’s civilian population in case of escalating conflict. "We want to ensure the safety and security of all of the subjects of the Emperor. Assistance will be provided to those who are victims of terrorists on the island." Said a public statement from the Crown.

[New Visayan Islands]

Teresita Agravio
DFA Building
March 2nd, AD 2022
1636 PHT

"They've done it," Lobetos said, reviewing the latest official release from the Aureumterran MFA a third time before putting it next to a drive containing the latest information surrounding the unrest in Aureumterra. "They're sealing off Aureumterran Iceland to all foreigners; by definition, foreign press have being shut out of Iceland entirely. Not helping is Aureumterran media indicating that the government is sending in 10000 personnel in what it calls "a large scale counterterrorism campaign" aimed at permanently removing militant groups from the island, on top of a declaration of martial law."
"What were your words again, Peter?" Teresita asked. "If I remember correctly, it was something about abandoning the pretense of engaging in a civilizing mission and bringing in raw, naked force."
"'The pretense of engaging in la mission civilisatrice is abandoned for raw, naked force.' The Vice President has a point: Potens is going the route of those who seek to shackle nations."
"It appears our Allanean friends, too, will soon take notice," Zach Anthony Ching added. "Ambassador Koga is phoning the Allanean MFA for an audience. It's the issue on seafarers and cargo shipping again." In reality, there was no real issue; Visayan seafarers were what some would call top of the line: exceptionally skilled, professional, and worth every Universal Standard Dollar. This was even more important considering that some ships crewed entirely by Visayans were known to transport dangerous goods, a testament to their skill.
"So, martial law, a complete foreign media blackout, the entire territory being cut off from internet, the deployment of roughly a division's worth of personnel, and a goal of permanent removal of militant separatists. What does that sound like?"
"Nothing particularly good," Teresita replied. "Have Koga, Melencion, and Rabin contact their respective hosts' governments as soon as we have a full analysis on the way for them. I'm calling a meeting of the Federal Council first thing tomorrow morning." Good thing I had my ashes this morning, she thought; March 2nd was Ash Wednesday, and before heading for the office she attended Mass with her only daughter Annabelle.
"Understood," Lobetos replied. This is going to be a long night, he thought.

[Langenia]

*** Ishikawa, Nifon

He was the Shogun of Nifon - ruler of a vast empire stretching from frozen wastes of Mirsk, to the hot tropical forrests of Potomiak. He was the one who murdered his best friend to get power - an act that broke him for generations to come. And here he sat, at the balcony in Akagi castle, observing the neon-filled landscape of Ishikawa. The "jewel of Orient", magnificent capital... and a source of rottenness for the entire world.

The ruler of Nifon, possessor of the Mandate of the Heaven, took a simple sip of tea. Fragrance of it filled his nostrils, as he continued to drink the cold liquid. Then he looked westwards - to the darker part of the city. Here laid Karamuncho - the ever gloomy underbelly of Ishikawa, where dark interests took place and criminals dwelt.

But were his own politicians any better?

Maki remembered how his revolution started. In the name of Emperor they rose against corrupt regime, only for his own regime to turn as corrupt as the past one. His allies, once proclaiming themselves noble champions of Christianity and nationalism, morphed into twisted parodies of their past selves, proclaiming to live by tenements of their faith in public and violating every commandment in private. Esotericism, officially banned, in practice flourished among the upper class, which developed an obsession with seances, meditation or palm readings to fill the spiritual void left by their rejection of Christianity. And he was left with only a small group of loyalists, trying to prevent a swamp of immense proportions from doing what it should do and collapsing under it's own weight.

With that, he turned and picked up the phone:

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, Kojiro-sama. The Delegates should be arriving at any time now."

"Ensure they reach the Akagi castle in safety. And get Tokugawa-san here. I am going to need her services."

In truth, the Shogun distrusted his minister of foreign affairs. The Baroness of Kariwa - every beautiful despite her age - was a typical member of Nifonese upper class that did not take her faith seriously. But she was also a member of an ancient Nifonese clan with connections in the world of international business and politics, her surname opening doors that surname "Maki" couldn't open. It was useful to have her around, even if she criticised his foreign policy choices.

Ishikawa, Nifon

A Langenian Air Force plane descended from the skies over Nifon, finally coming to a stop on the runway of Ishikawa Airport. It was a converted passenger liner that had been adopted by the LAF for the purpose of transporting government officials on their tasks abroad. Aboard, the men and women of the Langenian delegation clutched their seats, anxiously waiting to leave the plane. Nicolas Furia had picked his most trusted and experienced diplomats to lead the Langenian delegation to the summit. The delegation's leader was Julio Sanchez, the Minister of Foreign Affairs and one of the few members of El Presidente's inner circle. Sanchez was currently in his seat, looking at the window and reflecting on the events that had led to their arrival in the capital of Nifon. Furia had cut off oil to Aureumterra, a widely popular move in Langenia, although it had also resulted in a flare-up of tensions between the Catholic Republc and the Nordic empire. Soon after, the stand-off would come to face its own opposition in Aragon. Furia's opponents were pointing to issues within Langenia itself, and accusing the Langenian strongman of diverting public attention from the growing crime rate and the democratic backsliding that was covertly taking place under Furia's adminstration. Naturally, the security services got to work shutting up those opponents, but the word was out, and the members of La Fuerza (Langenia's ruling political class composed of active and former members of the military and security services) knew it was wisest to negotiate before their political position became untenable.

Sanchez looked across the room, at Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Luis Peña. Peña was Langenia's second most-experienced diplomat after Sanchez, and the fact both men had been sent to the summit indicated the sudden Langenian interest in achieving their goals through diplomacy. For now. The plane came to a stop, and both men knew the flight was over and they were about to leave the aircraft. Sanchez spoke to Peña.

"Do you remember our mission?"
The other diplomat nodded. "Certainly. Negotiate for the removal of most Aureumterran military forces near Langenia, and remind the Aureumterrans of the communist threat."
"Right. I'm wondering what the Aureumterrans are planning to bring to the negotiating table."
"I suppose that is the big question of everyone on this plane. We do know that our allies the Nifonese plan to use our common opposition towards communism to work towards something."
"Of course. Langenia, Nifon, and Aureumterra have always regarded communists as threats to our existence, despite our opposing interests."

Both Sanchez and Peña looked out the window, both men sunk into their own thoughts, as the urban landscape of the city of Ishikawa came into view.
And then, it was time to leave the plane.
Avoiding a conflict between Langenia and Aureumterra hinged on this summit.

[Allanea]

[this post is written jointly with the player of New Visayan Islands]

Briefing Room of Maverick Monningham, Free Kingdom Minister of Foreign Affairs

For this meeting, the Minister of Foreign Affairs chose to make use of his briefing room. The room was long, with a tall ceiling, the walls covered in oak up to a man’s height, and from there - with a subdued green wallpaper. The centerpiece of the room was a large, heavy wooden desk. A screen at one end of the room displayed a map of Areumterran Iceland.

Present for the meeting were several men - first of them was Minister Monningham himself, a gray-haired man. His suit was steely-gray to match his own hair. Seated at one side of the desk were two representatives of the armed forces - a headshaven man in a mossy-green Ground Forces uniform, this was Colonel Derrick Axelrod of the Intelligence Analysis Directorate, and another in a black naval uniform - this was Captain Andrei Ritiger.

“Good evening, Your Excellency,” - Monningham said as Ambassador Koga entered the room. Michael Koga was the Visayan Ambassador to Allanea, and he did not come alone. Ostensibly to discuss issues related to Visayan seafarers and cargo shipping, the 52-year-old Kirishitan--the term for Visayan Christians of ethnic Japanese descent–was accompanied by two attaches: Elena Michelle Amejan, the Labor Attache and the Visayan Intelligence Agency Chief of Station; and Jericho Quiroga, the Commercial Attache.

“A good evening to you as well,” Koga replied before introducing the attaches. “Elena Amejan, the Labor Attache, and Jericho Quiroga, the Commercial Attache.” He was brief in his introductions; there was little time for pleasantries owing to the developments that were taking place, nevermind that Amejan was a frequent companion of the Ambassador whenever concerns regarding labor were involved….when she wasn’t liaisoning with her opposite number regarding intelligence concerns. The Galadon Campaign was approaching its second year, after all, and embedded officers of the VIA Special Activities Center were keeping their ears on the ground for anything from Program 10.

“Analysis coming from home on Aureumterra’s actions regarding Aureumterran Iceland suggest something of a more…permanent...nature is in the books,” Amejan began, a copy of the analysis coming from the Visayan Department of Foreign Affairs in hand. “This supports speculations on the endgame of Potens re Iceland; the implications of its recent actions, among them a declaration of martial law, shutting Iceland off to all foreigners, and deploying roughly 10,000 personnel in what Potens calls a ‘large scale counterterrorism campaign to permanently remove the militant groups on the island,’ in the words of a suspected state propaganda outlet, suggest a high possibility of ethnic cleansing–if not outright genocide–being in the cards.”

“Given Aureumterra’s diplomatic relations with Cassadia–a known slaver state–even the Vice President is suggesting that Potens and Carthage are starting to become more…criminally similar,” Koga added. “I suspect my counterparts in Raselan and Warsaw are briefing their hosts as well regarding outright genocide as a probable outcome.”

“Which is where we come in,” Quiroga chimed in. “Madame Amejan was made aware of a cargo vessel containing a shipment of firearms ordered by a Visayan PMC via its client. Nothing completely unethical, given that the proxy purchase gave the aforementioned PMC an excuse to offer its client a discount for their next term, but the company and the client have made overtures suggesting that the arms should be circulated around before being given to separatist Icelanders. The vessel in question–M/V Lodestar Iscandar--is supposed to arrive here within the week to take up additional cargo before returning to the Confederation. Five hundred AKs may not sound like much, but it was judged by a private company to be the most they could do without drawing any unwanted attention.

“In addition, there are some sympathetic ears in the Confederation’s banking industry willing to provide financial support to separatist movements. The question, at this point in time, is finding out which movements they are willing to aid. The possibility of the most viable movement being a Reinkalistani-backed one is not something most Visayan bankers could easily stomach, purchasing orders addressed to a joint venture between Prusso-Polish and Reinkalistani interests notwithstanding.”

Maverick Monningham spoke first: “Your Excellency, once again, I thank you for being here with us. I’m not sure I necessarily agree with you that it matters - at least not in the short term - that the most viable movement is right now a Reinkalistani-backed one. If we choose to assist the rebels, first of all we can choose to assist anyone, not necessarily any ‘viable’ movement, depending on what the situation is on the ground or any number of other variables. Unfortunately we are running up on a series of problems that you’ve touched upon in your speech. Colonel Axelrod is here to explain what I mean.”

“The substantial difficulty is that we know so very little,” - said Axelrod. “Now, as you may know, the Free Kingdom Armed Forces have published a doctrine document in the past that summarizes the current state of the art of our knowledge of how genocides and democides occur. I’m going to submit to you that we view it highly likely that a genocide, or something frighteningly close to it, is going to occur. If we are wrong - which is entirely possible - then what will happen will be ‘merely’ an incredibly gruesome counterinsurgency campaign.”

“Genocide is often viewed,” - Axelrod continued - “as an outburst of irrational violence, a group of people acting on pent-up rage against some minority they hate for some stupid and perhaps entirely made-up reason. However, the Free Kingdom views genocide and democide as rational events, at least as considered within the genocidaire’s own framework. That’s to say, the genocidaire has a set of goals they imagine they’re accomplishing by murder - not so much an axe-wielding maniac but a man who poisons his grandmother for the estate money. To summarize years of research in a crude way: typically, the genocidaire believes they’re acting in the context of some giant emergency that requires them to get rid of their victims extremely quickly. The other thing we know about genocide is that genocide requires a relatively small amount of people and resources to carry out - ten thousand Aureumterrans, plus whatever forces already present, can certainly murder hundreds of thousands of innocents in a nightmarishly brief period of time.”

“However, the unfortunate caveat to this is that we know so very little. We don’t know if a genocide is actually happening or if it is merely a brutal suppression campaign - and I believe we would all prefer not to wait until mass graves start showing up on satellite. We don’t know whom to contact on the ground, what kind of assistance the rebel forces need, or how best to deliver it to them. Of course, to some extent your colleagues in the weapons industry can assist with this but I feel that this does not make our information problem vanish entirely.”

“Agreed,” Koga replied. “By the time mass graves start showing up on satellites, it will be too late. Given that Aureumterra has even gone as far as to cut off internet access to Iceland, the worst-case scenario starts becoming more and more credible even before mass graves start appearing, to the point that official relocation plans from the Aureumterran crown start to become more obvious euphemisms for a bloodier outcome,” he added.

“What do you think about the idea of contacting the rebel movement in a more direct way, Your Excellency?” - Axelrod inquired. “I believe there are two meaningful courses of action we should be considering and implementing as fast as we can.”

“...the courses of action being?” Koga asked. He suspected a more direct interaction with the rebel movements would create its own nasty implications, but seeing Amejan with her own curious expression meant that there was something the VIA Station Chief had in mind, and if he could get the Allanean plans first, perhaps Amejan can compare them with her own…

“There’s two things we could do. One of them being to contact members of the Icelandic diaspora, who no doubt have some kind of contact with the rebels–you know how those things are. As for the other one, I think Captain Ritiger is best placed to explain.”

“Your Excellency, the Free Kingdom Navy has its own assets that can be used in a range of covert activities. We could insert either a small group of people who speak the language, or, if the risk is deemed too much, communications equipment. This could be done by means of unmarked and potentially even unmanned delivery vessels.”

“A shame we have a lack of people who could easily pass muster,” Amejan added. The fact that most Visayans were of obviously mixed Malay stock made sending in an insertion team out of the question. “Communications equipment would be a safer option given our manpower issues…and if I recall, we can deliver the equipment along with the small arms through CDV-D. Half a metric ton of cargo in a single CDV, 4.3 kilos for a loaded AK with 700 grams allowance accounting for a full spare magazine for a total of five kilograms per AK…” She was calculating the required logistics behind sending 500 AKs, communications equipment–satellite-capable, in order to preempt the possibility of a local telecom shutdown–and foodstuffs. A full stomach was as much of a vital asset to any rebel standing up against what may very well be a genocidal regime as a well-maintained rifle.

Axelrod nodded. “This is a very reasonable summary of what we can do. I’m going to suggest that we start by delivering small loads of supplies and communications equipment - this brings us the hope someone will call us back. Meanwhile we will still try to contact someone who lives abroad and has contacts among the Icelanders, and move on trying to see if there’s someone in our databases who fits in the right appearance brackets and speaks Icelandic. The language might be more of a difficulty to us than the appearance. But in any event, you’re right, the CDV’s come first.”

“It seems that these matters are going into firmer hands than ours, Your Excellency.” - said Monnignham amicably.

“It does, indeed.” Koga smiled, the eyes showing what his face mask covered.

[New Visayan Islands]

Dr. Warren A. Superales, MD, PhD (Biochemistry)
Malacañan de Cebu, Cebu City, DH
March 4th, AD 2022
1622 PHT

"Keep talking," Warren said. The Federal Council had already been discussing various topics ranging from disaster preparedness--the response after Rai was still in need of assessment, after all, despite positive responses in the areas hardest hit--to economic agreements with the rest of the Strategic and Economic Alliance. "SecFA, any updates on the Aureumterran front?"
"Ambassador Koga has spoken with the Allaneans to good result. Already Plan Archangel is being worked out with them," Teresita said. Plan Archangel was the term used by the Confederation for a comprehensive, multi-pronged aid package aimed at populations subject to oppressive conditions. On one end, it called for the deployment of relief goods for civilians in areas directly affected by conflicts initiated by a faction aimed at oppressive ends. On another, it called for the discrete delivery of equipment aimed at improving the survival of such civilian populations: batteries for power, satellite-based communications equipment to allow people to keep in touch with one another and with the world around them, survival kits with instructions in both written English and pictorials. A third, often unspoken, end was the delivery of weapons and ammunition with instructions for the same to give those in the population with the training and skills the opportunity to fight back. Against what may very well be a genocidal regime, fighting back may be the only choice left...and it was, in the end, better that those subject to persecution and repression fight back. The Confederation's Old Guard knew this firsthand, and there were still enough of them to inculcate those values into succeeding Visayans.
"Ambassadors Melencion and Rabin are still reaching out to Raselan and Warsaw, respectively," Teresita added. The fact that the Prusso-Polish Foreign Ministry had...an unconventional arrangement...was a given; it was known that the Prusso-Polish Foreign Minister was on the hook for treason after he was exposed as a Cassadian agent. That Ambassador Rabin, an observant Jew, would speak to the Foreign Ministry regarding how the Visayans could help when--this was a when, not an if, and everyone in the room and attending virtually knew it--things really went south felt somewhat...wrong...to everyone, were it not for the Prusso-Polish King keeping the Foreign Minister honest. "The analysis concerning Potens' endgame in Iceland is something to consider, after all."
"It is entirely possible for our Chiefs of Station to accompany their respective ambassadors," Andrea Allyn Auza added. The Director-General of the Visayan Intelligence Agency was no stranger to such proposals. "Perhaps we could coordinate with the SVRL and Abwehr regarding how to proceed in the weeks to come?"
The discussion continued with details on how to proceed with the Allanean side of Plan Archangel.

Atty. Juan Tomas T. Murata, CPA, JD (Agent Blowtorch, VIA)
M/Y Spirit of Diamond, Gulf of Aden
March 5th, AD 2022
0853 Local Time/1353 PHT

"The good news is that neither of you will be exposed to any legal liability," Murata said to the executives from Serrano and Curtis. "A bona fide purchase made as part of acceptable practices within the Visayan business environment is perfectly legal, as your own counsel pointed out just now. That the guns were found in a foreign port picking up cargo is beside the point, especially since everything presented was in order," he continued.
"And in the event that the guns do get lost in one way or another, the shipment is insured; at the very least, we will be compensated for the lost weapons," Henry Denila said over the screen. Denila was Serrano and Curtis Holdings' General Counsel, and knew Murata had a point. It was best practice for shipments of "special cargo," the term used for hazmat, weapons, and other regulated items, to be insured to at least nominal value, and half a million Universal Standard Dollars' worth in Kalashnikovs from BASED-EGIRL was still half a million Universal Standard insured by Aegis Maritime.
The remote meeting took another thirty minutes to conclude, but when it was done, Murata took a breath. M/Y Spirit of Diamond was an Indomitable Spirit-class motor yacht with an interesting history; first purchased by Eloisa Menendez, mother of Kimberly "DJ Diamond" Menendez and the widow behind one of the Confederation's largest trucking companies, the yacht changed hands after Harrison, Murata, and Goco Consultants bought her off Menendez in March of 2021. The company was officially founded by three investment bankers aiming to charter their own path after leaving their respective investment banks. What the people onboard the yacht knew, however, was something else: Harrison, Murata, and Goco Consultants was one of several front companies for the Visayan Intelligence Agency, and Agent Blowtorch had to sail to Lauzanne, ostensibly to expand the company's clientele overseas. In reality, Jarvis needed a team ready pending the outcome of talks between the Embassy and Raselan.

[Lauzanne]

“Hey… Is it really okay?” Melissa asked, her eyes affixed to the clear sky outside the car’s window.
“Is what okay?”
“Using that man for our spying work… He’s a civilian, isn’t he?”
“Nothing we do is ‘okay’, Melissa. He’s as voluntary as you, or anyone else at the SVRL.”
“But he’s not paid by us, he’s not on our personnel files… He has a family in a foreign country.”
“He gets paid to bring things for us. Harder to track.”
“But what if he gets caught?”
“Same thing that happens to us.” Leonid’s statement sent a chill up Melissa’s spine, not wanting to think about what would happen to the wife and children…
“What do you mean though? Nothing we do is ‘okay’?” Melissa looked towards Leonid, who shot her a single glance before returning to focus on the road.
“The SVRL will shoot defectors if there is no other way, we’re illegally inside a country to spy on their activities. I’ve shot 17 people, be they defectors or illegal spies. We enter into other countries to get information on them that they don’t want to disclose, and do you know how severe the punishments are?”
“Very severe… But we do it for a good cause, right?”
“That isn’t up for us to determine. But tell me, is it worth destroying all of this for Iceland?”
“... All of this?”
“Yes. How many people should die so Icelanders get to live?”
“Hopefully just the ones that are in charge of this… Genocide.”
“It won’t be that few people.”
Melissa decided not to reply, only looking out the window.

They were approaching a beautiful, albeit heavily touristy town. The resort was now visible, built as a collection of log cabins and facilities dotting the mountainside, with breathtaking ski slopes running downhill, all on the side of a fjord which opened up to an inlet of the ocean below. Their road led them to a large sign, Narvik Ski Resort, with a signboard showing directions below it. Leonid took the road leading to the cabin check in office, where they would get their rooms and unpack to settle in.
Roads going to the ski slopes could be seen while the car was making its way, Melissa taking in all the views and already mapping out where she would want to go.
We are tourists here after all, so why not have some fun?
The car pulled into the reception area, the pair exiting their vehicle. Leonid looked over at Melissa, eyes still looking every which way.
“... Go on, I’ll handle getting everything into our room. Stay out of trouble.” Leonid said, to which Melissa ran towards him.
Melissa hit Leonid bodily, wrapping her arms around him and squealing.
“Thank you! Thankyouthankyou!” She said, before detaching and running off for the ski lift.
Leonid shook his head before moving towards the reception.

---

Melissa looked at the blue circle on the slope, gazing down once more at it. Anxiety was building in her, even as kids and other tourists went down without hesitation. From up here, it all looked much taller than down there…
“Come on, remember. Take it easy, this is a beginner course.” Melissa said to herself.
Deep breath in, remembering everything she was taught. Deep breath out.
She gently stepped forwards, the skis tipping towards the slope as she started her descent.

Melissa quickly gained speed, feeling the cold wind whip at her face as she gently angled herself left and right. She was quickly getting a feel for carving up the snow as she shifted to the unpopulated right side of the slope to minimize harm should she fail. She saw a slight ramp, her heart rate picking up as she remembered countless spy flicks. She then angled right towards it, digging her poles in to gain speed. She jumped the ramp into a seemingly unoccupied slope, the few seconds in mid-air an exhilarating feeling. But it was then that she noticed two problems.

This slope was much steeper, and there were people near her at the bottom.

Melissa’s heart kicked into overdrive as she tried her best to slow down, but to no avail. The people didn’t notice her yet, and Melissa had to act fast to stop herself flying bodily into the middle figure. Her mind came to the only viable solution, as she pulled a quick right turn, leaning into the mountain hard. She fell onto her side, the pole in her right hand hitting her cheek hard as she used her mass to slow herself down so as to not hit the bystanders. As the distance between her and the trio shortened, she saw the middle one was a young man, making her worry more.
“Look out!”

He barely had time to turn and see her before she crashed into him. Both of them fell, his neatly combed blonde hair going into disarray as it hit the snow, while Melissa came to a stop, having hit her knee on the ski. The other men at the base of the slope frantically ran and helped the boy up,
“Your Highness, are you okay?” One asked.
“I’m fine.” He replied, quickly walking over to Melissa who was still on the ground.
“Do you need help?” He asked, reaching an arm out to help her up as the others quickly approached behind them.

Melissa groaned as she sat up, the skis making her legs splayed out as she reached up through the screaming pain of her muscles to unbuckle them.
“I’m… Alright… I think. Are you okay?” She asked, with a clear bruise on her right cheek from the pole hitting it. Up close, she noticed the man was blonde, with a friendly face and hazel eyes.
“I… I didn’t hit you too hard, did I?”
He knelt down and put his hand on her shoulder, “No, but you look hurt.”
He turned around to the entourage, “Get a first aid kit.”
“Sorry again… I got into it and took a ramp… Didn’t think it through much, heh.” Melissa weakly laughed, groaning when the skis were released and she lay back into the snow.
“My God…” He muttered as he observed her injuries.

Two men quickly came with a bunch of bandages, painkillers, and disinfectant. They helped Melissa up, and looked to the younger man
“Take her inside, I don’t think we can just throw her out like that.”
The party assisted Melissa in heading back, she would see that all the men had handguns in their pockets, and wore neatly buttoned down blue uniforms with pins on them.

Eventually, they would come upon an elevated cabin nearby the ski slope, where Melissa would be helped in and seated on a sofa. The young man followed, along with all of the other people accompanying the two.

Melissa was confused by the proceedings. The kid was young, but he has all these personnel? Her mind was swimming with possibilities, but the pain made it hard to focus. The handguns would be standard for bodyguards… Maybe he was a son of a company?
“Thank you… Um, my name’s Melissa.” She offers her hand to the teenager, smiling a little more now that she was somewhere soft and warm.

He gave a warm smile in return, recognizing that she was likely a foreigner. “You’re not from around here are you?”

Melissa shook her head.
“No, I’m here from Lauzanne with my husband… We’d just gotten married and he told me to stay out of trouble, heh.”

He laughed for a bit, but his expression became a little more serious as he looked down. “I suppose I should introduce myself, Andre Åltassson, Imperial Prince of Aureumterra.”

“Oh… Um, my apologies, Mist- Pri- Andre… Makes me crashing into you more awkward, heh.”

Andre looked up, somewhat taken aback by her ease and lack of formality. He rarely experienced such people, especially when they were addressing him, for him it was rather surprising.

He chuckled, “Oh, no worries. I don’t get to meet people, especially not foreigners usually.”

“I think I’ve heard about that. Lots of secrecy and security, right?”

Andre sighed, “Well… my brother is very concerned about me all the time. I can understand, after what happened to mama, but it is nice meeting someone like you.”

“Yeah… That would have an impact on anyone. He keeps you close all the time?”
“Sort of.” Andre replied, raising an eyebrow, “You seem to know a lot about Aureumterra and my family… do you follow the news closely?”

“I remember it was pretty shocking news… I don’t know much else, but I remember it being everywhere.”

Andre looked down again, “Yeah… I was too young to remember anything well. But my brother and sister were not.”

“Mm, like when my grandparents died. I was little, but my mother wasn’t good for years…”

“I wish I could have known her better. Now my brother wants to avenge her by taking all of his anger out on Iceland. I don’t know…” He looked up, at Melissa again, “He’s never been like this before.”

“Blaming an entire people… Saddening. It’s weighing on your mind?”

“I… I don’t know. Sorry for that.”

“It’s fine, really. You came here to get away from it?”

Andre looked around, “This is one of the few places I can go freely, I’m not allowed to venture anywhere too dangerous.” He was somewhat timid now, he had only known this woman for an hour or so and he was already spilling his mind to her.

“Oh… Your brother wouldn’t want to lose you…” Melissa said, before she was starting to regain awareness. She was sitting next to one of the most powerful people of a country she’s not supposed to be in.
You’re talking to a fucking Prince, Mel. Get your head together.
“I’m sorry… I hope I’m not prying…”

Andre noticed how she suddenly became tense, and put his hand on her wounds, “No no, it’s okay, are you feeling better?”

“A bit, yeah. Talking’s keeping my mind off the pain, I think something happened to my knee. Do you mind if I message my husband?”

“Sure, no problem.” He said, sitting back on the couch.

Melissa grabbed her phone out, opening it up to fire off a message. Her thumbs were quick, and she looked back at the Prince.
“Should I tell him where I am? Should he come get me here or is that not okay?”

Andre looked around again, the Imperial Guardsmen in the room kept to their posts, keeping their faces straight and neutral as their duty commanded. He turned back to Melissa, “Sure, he can come here. I’ll make sure he’s let in.”

He stood up and went to an older looking man, and told him something, before coming back. By then, the message was sent off. Melissa giggled a bit.

“You know… He told me to stay out of trouble.” She said, between small fits of laughter. “But then, I take one little ramp and crash into a prince.”

Andre laughed as well, “It is funny. I hope you’re not too scared, I won’t take offense to any of this. Besides, it is wonderful to meet you.” He said, smiling.

“You’re a person just like me. It’s certainly a good story to meet someone through such a chance. Maybe God deemed it so.”

“Indeed.” He paused, “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you. My knee doesn’t like me putting pressure on it, I may have sprained it. But the skiing was fun.”

The pair chatted casually, awaiting Leonid’s arrival, who was no doubt worried for his newlywed wife. The prince would be somewhat awkward, having been raised his entire life to be formal and thorough, with little experience talking to new people. It was definitely an interesting predicament for him.

[The Black Hand of Nod]

-Somewhere between the Hornstrandir and Strandir region of Iceland-

They were in, it had been a careful trip following the course plotted in, waiting for any possible gap in aerial reconnaissance, they weren't sure how indepth the lockdown of Iceland was, the remote chance that they had drones observing the coastline and forced the Black Hand to carefully time their movements for when they had direct observation of their own, the days of easily sneaking into a nation wasn't what it used to be after all, but at last they made landfall, sure it was a rocky middle of nowhere on a cold dawn morning, but it was still landfall.
"All the boats on the shore quickly we need to get to those rocky overhangs quickly, have everything packed away and sealed up, we need to be undercover in case they start closing the island down hard."

The team made their way inland and quickly moved to establish a small forward operating base, setting up the interlink and quickly moving to establish some shelter. They had the advantage that this was one of the most godforsaken parts of the island, well away from any inhabitants but it also worked against them, it'd take a half a day's march to reach Hólmavík, but that distance was enough to give them the protection they needed, after all they could always deploy further south in the future. This also put them close enough to the destroyed town of Ísafjörð that they could even move to investigate the wreckage of the town, if it wasn't already heavily secured by hostile forces.

Still there were several angles to go and this was merely their first outpost, another one further south and closer to life would need to be made, but still the Black Hand had a foothold, and that's what counted.
"Do you think we could set up an outpost on top of the Drangajökull?"
"Doubtful at this time, it'd be too obvious, we could lure some hostiles up there though, convince them the area is crawling with rebels and force them to waste their time bombing the area."
"Maybe later, for now we need to set up, open up comms with command, let them know we have our first outpost, we'll search around here, leave some supplies then move south for the next checkpoint."
"Roger that."
"Remember we want to be within range of sneaking into Hólmavík by tomorrow, everyone understand? Now get some shut eye."

-Black Hand High Command-
Progress was going too slow for the Black Hand, but they had learned now that it was time to be cautious, they couldn't let their involvement or even their interest leak out just yet, only when they had made contact were they to allow information to leak about their interest in the area, when there's a big player involved you don't play your hand too soon. Still more information was being pulled in slowly but surely, other factors, other parties, troop movements, it was all slowly starting to build a picture of what exactly what was going on. Knowledge is power, and they weren't going to lose their advantage in information gathering.

[Allanea]

Somewhere over the Atlantic

The cargo aircraft did not appear bound for Iceland. Indeed, it was not bound for Iceland at all – for every appearance, it was a regular cargo flight to Europe, on a regular cargo routes. So far – so normal.

Passing about two hundred miles West of its target, the aircraft descended, its rear ramp opening.

When it was dangerously low to the water, the items began to drop.

They were quite simple items in their appearance – simple 55-gallon drums, bright orange, floating on the surface of the seas.

The currents would move them now towards the Icelandic shores – perhaps to smash on the shores, perhaps to wash up on a beach, perhaps to be intercepted by authorities or by fishermen. Each was marked, in Icelandic and in English, with two words OPEN HERE across the lid.

Each of the drums, when opened, would be roughly the same – with its internal surface reinforced with a thick layer of flotation foam and coated in thick, rubber-like plastic to keep the water out, and storing far less items than its size would betray – simply, it seemed, to keep the devices afloat. They were carefully balanced, to float more or less vertically, the barrel almost entirely submerged rather than bob haphazardly on the surface. And, of course, there was the cargo.

On the inside of each drum's lid was written, only in English – Your payment is in our wallets – this is the cargo you ordered.

Within, wrapped in multiple layers of transparent plastics, was high-grade hashish, pressed into bricks, as well as other items – multivitamins, muscle-gain drugs in sealed pill bottles, pistols, ammunition and, most importantly, satellite phones – dozens of smartphones in each of the drums, each sealed separately, each marked – SATELLITE PHONE in two languages on a piece of white plastic placed in the transparent packaging, and of course a number to call.

Within a few days, the drums would – if everything worked out fine, which was entirely uncertain – begin arriving at Iceland's shores.

[New Visayan Islands]

This post is a collaboration post written with the player behind Lauzanne.

---

Remedios V. Ortiz-Melencion, CPA, MPA
Ministry of Foreign Affairs Building, Raselan, Lauzanne
March 9th, AD 2022
1024 Local Time

Ambassador Melencion was one of many things, but as the Visayan Ambassador to Lauzanne, she spoke for Visayan interests in a nation with friendly ties to Prussia-Poland, a fellow nation of the Strategic and Economic Alliance. Remedios Ortiz-Melencion had been present for the 40th anniversary of Lauzannean independence; she was personally close to the site where speeches were made by significant figures from both nations, and one thing about General MacDuff’s speech that resonated with Remedios was the notion that those who seek to shackle others ultimately only understand force and the threat thereof. It made perfect sense; indeed, the MacDuff Speech reminded her of a common saying heard among gun rights advocates, her highly opinionated lesbian daughter among them: "human beings understand reason, compassion, and dignity, while predators understand strength alone."
As she entered the grand old hall of Lauzanne’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs building with two attaches flanking her, she couldn’t help but behold the sight, even if she was no stranger to it. A grand old building from a time of empires, its massive stone pillars broke up the side wings and kept the main hall empty to give off a grandiose feeling, at odds with the more humble city proper. The first time Remedios walked those halls, she had presented her letter of credence to the President of Lauzanne…and that was August of last year.

The secretary at the head desk looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.
"How may I help you, Ambassador Melencion?"
"My attaches and I are here for a scheduled appointment," Remedios replied. Trade talks were the topic of the day, which is why she was accompanied by her commercial attache and her customs attache, two different men she gestured toward. Doctor Matthew Advincula--the commercial attache held a doctorate in business administration--and Kurt Kilat accompanied her to provide expert opinions on what may prove to be mutually beneficial trade between the two nations.
That was, at least, the official story. In reality, the trade talks were a cover for the Confederation to have the VIA--represented by Advincula as VIA Chief of Station--coordinate with the SVRL regarding missions aimed at supporting efforts to aid and arm Icelanders. The Lauzannean side of Plan Archangel was, after all, a necessary one. The analysis from the DFA back home had all but pointed out the most likely outcome of what Aureumterra had planned for its occupied territory. In a nutshell, Potens had genocide as the most probable endgame for the actions in occupied Iceland.
"I see, head right on through." The lady said, picking up her phone to call forward to the Minister.
At that, the party of three headed onto the room they were directed to. The room that the trio had gone to was hardly befitting of a role as mundane as discussions of commerce. The below-ground room was typically for major incidents, and this was no exception. A large semicircular table was there, with the MFA, Director of the SVRL and one last individual in a suit at the table.
"Good morning, Honorable Minister," Remedios began. "My attaches, Doctor Advincula and Mister Kilat. I presume the Honorable Director is familiar with Doctor Advincula?"
"Of course, but unfortunately, business must come first."

Now playing: Briefing I

The last individual stood up, straightening his tie as he moved to the large screen.
"Greetings all, I am the department head for matters concerning Aureumterra. My name’s Makariy Dumitri, if you have any questions there will be time after."
He turned to the screen, turning it on.
"The current situation is known to all parties, so I won’t waste your time. We’ve been working to keep tabs on everything, but the current map of Iceland is murky after the Internet was cut off. We’ve been able to tap into some friendly satellites, but they can only provide so much. Currently there are plans to operate a HALE drone out of Germany, but both the Air Force and the Germans have to give the all-clear on that one. We also have no SSNs, and cannot perform large-scale deliveries of cargo except by special means.
"In order to gather evidence of such a genocide occurring, it must be shown that such an act is deliberate and repeated. We know this first act was carried out through use of strategic bombers, and we’re working on a plan with two agents to place a camera at the airfield hosting them to obtain evidence of bomber flights. We’ll also be handling getting information about the actual bombings themselves, however there isn’t much we can do here.
"For the execution, we currently have two agents already in Aureumterra working the place, one of them is an air force specialist to verify that what we are seeing is legitimate. Tracking the bombers is a different matter, but I am not cleared to say why. Any questions?”
"So far," Advincula began, "none. The Confederation has SSNs and SSPs that can be deployed as part of a naval exercise depending on how talks with our mutual friends in Prussia-Poland work out. They operate out of our overseas base at Guía de Isora, with said exercise scheduled for the end of the month. That means we have enough time to make plausible adjustments to the schedule if we can get the Prusso-Poles on board. In addition, a VIA team is en route to Lauzanne as we speak for additional support on an as-needed basis." The team led by Agent Blowtorch was sailing in, and they were two days out if the calculations were correct, assuming a cruising speed of 20 knots on the yacht they were using as part of their cover.
"We’re also working with the Allaneans on coordinating the delivery of cargo via discreet means," Remedios began. "Not just weapons, but also satellite communications equipment, survival tools, and foodstuffs. As the good attache can attest, personnel would stick out like a terribly sore thumb, so materiel is the most we can provide as of now."
"Well, that seems more your alleyway. There’s not a lot we can provide on a surface or subsurface level, although operating a HALE drone might be beneficial for avoiding Aureumterran surface ships, presence patrols and aircraft. However, the extent of our involvement will be limited owing to our allowable equipment."
"A shame we can’t launch the discrete vehicles off HALE drones; the Allanean delivery vehicles have similar dimensions to a Mk 48 ADCAP torpedo," Advincula added. There would be additional things to consider, but with Blowtorch and his team on the way and arrangements being made to speak with the Prusso-Poles, things were progressing as planned.

[Lauzanne]

“Gently now.” Leonid instructed, lowering his ‘wife’ onto their bed.
She winced at every movement of her ankle, finally relaxing as she got herself up and onto pillows that Leonid had prepared. He quickly turned to the refrigerator, fetching all the ice he could. Melissa watched him work. Her heart fluttered as he put the ice cubes into a sandwich bag, the speed of his actions making her think. He’s really concerned for me…
“Your ankle will be out until tomorrow at the very least. Until then, stay on the bed. Do you want me to bring you anything?” Leonid explained as he put the cold bundle on her ankle, before kneeling down next to the bed.
“Just the laptop… What’ll we do about placing the camera?” Melissa asked, looking a little guilty.
“That’s no problem, I’ll go solo. It’s not the fir-”
“You can’t. You need someone to watch your back. We can do it tomorrow.” Melissa said, before Leonid grabbed her right on the ankle, pressing down. Melissa sharply inhaled, jumping up a bit
“L-leonid w-what the hell!?” She shouted, Leonid staring right at her.
“That is what you will feel every single step. Can you keep yourself quiet?”
“N-no…” Melissa whimpered, Leonid placing the ice back onto her ankle.
“This isn’t a chore or house cleaning, Melissa. We cannot put it off until tomorrow. Lives are at stake.” Leonid’s gaze wasn’t flinching, the sight of which made her avert her eyes.

“You’re right… I’m sorry…” Melissa whispered, looking down at herself. Leonid then put a finger under her chin, raising it up to face him again.
“Don’t be. You’re new to this, and I cannot hold it against you for not knowing. You did good today, anyways.” Leonid smiled a little bit, Melissa looking confused.
“With… the Prince?”
“Yeah.”
Melissa let out a little laugh.
“I… I took this really big ramp because I was excited. And I landed on his slope!” Melissa said, pantomiming pushing herself with the ski sticks. Leonid couldn’t help but smile.
“Now I see why you couldn’t be a pilot, the Air Force would run out of planes.” Leonid said, causing Melissa to grab a pillow and hit Leonid. He tried to block but his kneeling posture made him fall, pulling Melissa down with him to the floor.

When Melissa came to, she was propped on top of Leonid, giggling and looking down at him. The pair were already panting, Leonid’s arms on hers. Melissa’s heart thumped, as she saw Leonid look… Happy.
“You… Are you alright?” Melissa asked.
“I am.”
“Hey, um… After this, can we uh, can we-”
“I shouldn’t.”
“I shouldn’t either… But I don’t care.” Melissa said, blushing.
“I’ll think on it. When I get back, we can decide. How does that sound?”
“G-good.”

---

Leonid walked along the edge of the grounds, his mind taking note of all the cameras, where people commonly walked, Melissa’s smile…
Don’t get sentimental now.
His mind started to fog up as he planned his route, clenching his fist and digging his nails into the palm of his hand to focus.
Wait until nightfall plus two hours, take a drive to outside the base. Lights out and cover it, then place the remote camera. Return, ditch the equipment here. Water’s too cold for any serious diving effort. Return back, sleep… with her?
He wasn’t used to this. Detach from work. She is a colleague.
Leonid started to head back for the hotel room. Soon, he would work.

Thankfully, Melissa was already fast asleep.

---

Leonid could hear the crunching of boots on snow, a patrol of Aureumterran soldiers on a presence patrol.
Eight soldiers by the footfalls. Presence patrol.
Leonid kept his breathing steady, not moving a muscle as the group got closer. His mind was blank, preparing for a fight when the footfalls stopped. The soldiers started to chat a bit, barely a few meters from Leonid’s laying position. The bright white of flashlights shining off the snow hurt Leonid’s eyes, especially with night vision on. But he couldn’t move.

The soldiers seemed to stand around for a couple minutes, joking and chatting among themselves while Leonid remained as still as the forest surrounding them. His own heartbeat started to thump in his ears, even as he slowed his breathing.

More chatter, a chuckle here and there.

Thump-thump. thump-thump.

After an eternity, they started to head back to the base, their boots once more crunching snow underfoot as the sound of their patrolling diminished. Allowing himself to breathe a quiet sigh of relief, Leonid slowly rose into position once more and examined his surroundings. A chilly wind picked up once more, causing Leonid to press on. The sooner he was done here, the sooner he could be back at the room.

Leonid crawled into position, pulling out the flat-based sensor and placing it on the snowy ground. The lights of the base shone amidst the darkness, personnel scrambling like tiny ants across the massive metal birds.
“Sensor in position, RTB.”