ICE-Ralkovian War (IC closed, MT)

by **Virana** » Mon Nov 05, 2012 8:15 pm

Bridge — URS Midsummer Night — ICE multinational combined task force — undisclosed location near Gholgoth and Tyrrhenia

""Shit! They've got AA!" came the voice of Phonencian F-36B pilot Varmint 2.

"Goddammit," said the Emmerian radio operator at his station. "We've already got heli's within 600 meters of that godforsaken ship and it's got AA."

"Tell everyone to keep their distance. And let the Phonies know that they need to keep their groupings ass tight," the booming, low voice of Captain Andrew del Rio, the overall commanding officer of the ship as well as the Emmerian contingent of ICE's anti-slaver operations in the combined task force.

The radio operator pushed the button and spoke. "All units, URS Midsummer Night. Be advised, Varmint 2 has V-ID on hostile air defenses and is currently running Wild Weasel; I say again, hostile air defenses confirmed and Wild Weasel runs are active. Keep your distance away from the ship, remain out of range until further notice. Over."

He pushed the button again after a short moment.

"INS Monitor, this is URS Midsummer Night. We're going to have to land as soon as Varmint finishes their Wild Weasel run in order to minimize potential scorched earth strategies. We'll need you to maintain fighters in the air after air defenses are disabled in order to prevent them from pulling any surprises on our boys. Out."

Another member of the bridge crew turned after his screen lit up. "Sir, we've got intel on the ship. It's the Ralkovian HMRS Ominous Ends. Definitely a slave transport."

"Acknowledged," replied Captain Del Rio. "Let NORTHCOM and GOTHCOM know what the hell we're dealing with here. We wouldn't want to spark a fucking war, you know."

URNORTHCOM, short for United Republic Northern Command, was the Emmerian Unified Combatant Command responsible for operations in Tyrrhenia, Irkalla, and most of Minyang. Similarly, URGOTHCOM, or United Republic Gothic Command, was the Unified Combatant Command with jurisdiction over operations in Gholgoth and Ellorea. As the operation in question was literally directly in between Gholgoth and Tyrrhenia, it was deemed necessary to alert both commands the essence of the ongoing operation.

A moment later, the same crewmember turned around again. "More news, sir. We've got a lot of international support now for our slavery interception. Word is Kahanistan, Libertarian Governance, Morrdh, and Lamoni are on our side here. Those're some big friends in some high places."

Captain Del Rio smiled. "International support is exactly what we need to bolster our efforts," he said, subconciously staring at the floor before coming back to his senses. "But right now we've got a job to do. These nations are superficially aiding us but in order to win their definite support we have to prove that we are capable enough to handle it. We've got this."

Emmerian UH-1Y Venom — Roughly 650 meters from HMRS Ominous Ends

"All units, URS Midsummer Night. Be advised, Varmint 2 has V-ID on hostile air defenses and is currently running Wild Weasel; I say again, hostile air defenses confirmed and Wild Weasel runs are active. Keep your distance away from the ship, remain out of range until further notice. Over."

The pilot of the helicopter, alarmed, came to an abrupt stop in mid-air as he stopped his helicopter from further nearing the ship. He turned it around, trying to keep distance while attempting to keep the ominous fuel needle away from the "E" at the bottom of the dial. He then spoke into his microphone on the intercom into the headsets of the personnel on board, "Air defenses, our Phonencian friends are conducting Wild Weasel. We're gonna have to wait for our shot boys."

There was a noticeable sense of resentment among the SEALs in the helicopter, including a slight, barely noticeable, collective sigh.

"Leave it to the motherfucking Ralkies to put air defenses on a slave ship, eh?" said Nawaz, the SEAL sniper.

"They do export the third-most slaves of any country on the planet," replied LT. "I'm honestly really fucking surprised we didn't expect this type of shit earlier."

"The Phonies came prepared. You know, maybe we should deploy an Ark Royal—maybe that way we'd have some more kick-ass air support," said Shabbaz.

Harris glared at Shabbaz. "They use the F-36—Emmerian fucking trademark. No matter how shit your pilots are they'll be black ace juggernauts in those motherfuckers."

"I don't think they have shit pilots either," said the final DEVGRU operator, unspoken up until this point, named Johnson. "I seriously doubt a nation with a military of that caliber would give its pilots shit training."

"Damn, chill," said Shabbaz. "I was being a patriot. My fucking bad for showing my attachment to my country."

"We do need an Ark Royal though," stated Harris. "Having a 380-meter-long carrier that can hold one-forty aircraft never hurts."

"Alright, men, focus on the mission," announced LT decisively, clearly aggravated at the fact that they'd almost forgotten the fact that a slave ship was floating less than a kilometer away. "We have a big job to do today."

"We got this. God bless Emmeria," said Harris.

He looked out the side of the helicopter at the HMRS Ominous Ends in the distance, its silhouette becoming ever so smaller as the helicopter kept its distance. Looking around the sky he noted the fact that they weren't alone. Alongside them were numerous helicopters from several nations across ICE, each holding highly-trained, experienced special operators ready to place their lives on the line in defense of freedom. He looked at the ship again, allowing it to sink in that there were people on that ship that had been forced against their will into labor as property, lacking any type of rights or ability to refuse work. And he was about to save them, to get them out.

He grasped his custom M11 in his chest holster, a custom Emmerian polymer-framed, railed M1911 chambered in 6.5x25mm CBJ with a miniscule red-dot sight on top of the slide and Fireshot flashlight below the barrel. He himself had been the gunsmith responsible for building the pistol, a traditional workhorse design mated to one of the best modern personal defense weapon cartridges in the world. He'd in several cases been forced to use it when his primary weapon—the 6.8 mm M18—had been disabled or otherwise useless. And the pistol worked like a charm.

Staring at the slave ship, he silently thought to himself, Please don't kill those people. It was a major risk—they'd have to take over the ship before the Ralkovians killed the slaves aboard. It was a well-known fact that slavers would often resort to such tactics, so he knew that the ICE forces would have to act fast. He glanced at some of the helicopters around his.

Please do your jobs right, he thought. He knew him and his team would.

As soon as he thought that, he saw a jet in the distance above them in the sky—a Phonencian F-36B Super Viper—launch a missile undoubtedly towards the slave ship. A HARM.

by **Arthurista** » Mon Nov 05, 2012 11:09 pm

Prime Minister Indira Todd was still groggy 30 minutes after the 3 am phone call from the Navy, informing her about the Ralkovian ship incident half a world away. She was, however, nothing if not efficient, and quickly organised a teleconference with core cabinet members, most of whose equally groggy faces were now staring out at her from her laptop's screen.

"The situation is exceedingly dangerous at the moment, Indira," said Michael Cochraine, Minister of Defence. "Our frigate out with the task force has been given the go-ahead to board and search the freighter with its onboard Commando team, and most of the other ICE ships are doing the same. If past Ralkovian practice is any guide, they are likely to retaliate on a not immodest scale. Their wars have mostly ended with the eslavement or genocidal extermination of their enemies. I know we have the rest of the alliance on board, but you could be committing us to a major conflict here, the kind we haven't experienced since WW2."

"Michael, when we signed up to the ICE, we knew what we were in for." Indira said with a slight hint of anger in her voice. "We've spent billions on defence over the past 50 years. We have our own indigenous stealth fighers and aircraft carriers. What're they for, if not for stuff like this? We served in Bosnia together, Michael. You know our military has always been committed to fighting against atrocities internationally. If we don't stop a slave ship, that first cardinal rule of international maritime custom since the time of Wilberforce, we'll be going against everything that defined us as a nation. The People will never let that slide."

"In that case, Comrade Prime Minister, it may be prudent for us to plan for the worst," said Admiral Thomas Sung, Chief of Naval Staff. "At the very least, we need to evaluate our ability to dispatch forces overseas if it comes to a major war. We can probably manage to send four and a half divisions of ground troops abroad but that would quite seriously strain our merchant navy's capacity. Without some sort of flashy casus belli, say a major attack on coalition assets, I don't see how we can generate the public support to mobilise our transport ships on such a scale."

"You let me worry about the politics, Thomas." Indira said. "if the inevitable retaliation part is true, then we might as well plan on that basis. We need to draw up plans to move a major expeditionary force now. Four and a half divisions of ground troops, four fighter wing and every blue water asset our fleet has. Prepare plans for a more limited commitment too, say if we find ourselves in a naval raiding war with Ralkovia - a few submarines and one or two surface ships based in one of our friends in Tyrrhenia should be enough. Once the Ralkovian response comes, we need to psychologically prepare our population for serious warfare. Within an hour or two of the attack we'll partially mobilise the Citizen's Guard and put the Strategic Deterrence Force on high alert."

"The Citizen's Guard? The SDF?" Cochraine nearly choked on his coffee. "Weren't you saying we should plan for an expedition, Indira? Not a full scale invasion of Arthurista? Besides, the buggers are too far away to do anything like that, nor do they have any friends in the Pacific who can lend them a base to attack us."

"Yes, but they're symbolic measures. Vital political gestures. Activating our ballistic missiles units will send a message to the public that the shit has really hit the fan. We're talking about the singe largest deployment of Arthuristan arms in history, ladies and gentlemen. Not even our grandparents' generation threw this much into the pot against Japan. If Ralkovia retaliates on a large scale, we're at war." Todd looked grimly determined as she spoke and Cochraine promptly backed down.

"If I may, Indira," the Foreign Minister, Valerie Chen-Raman, piped up, "the situation may come to be as desperate as that. I just received words that Kahanistan, Libertarian Governance, Morrdh, and Lamoni may be getting involved if the situation with Ralkovia escalates. If the UWO intervenes, Volgovad will probably help out too and they're conveniently located in Minyang. There are solid reasons to be optimistic."

"Sorry to interrupt, comrade minister," said Sung. "We just heard from the Ariadne that the boarding helis have sighted AA on board the ship. Phonencian F-36s are being scrambled to run SEAD against it so the strike teams can move in."

"Let's hope they do it fast. If the Ralkovians are as insane as they sound, the slaves are in serious danger."

by **The Free Monarchy of Daragal** » Tue Nov 06, 2012 12:32 am

Darag Royal Palace
Dining Hall
0940 hours

King Daga was eating a large bowl of fruit salad as part of his new health regime when suddenly one of his various aide's came running into the Dining Hall. As the twenty-something grad-student maneuvered through the numerous rows of tables and seats towards the Royal Throne, the King smiled, and after taking a final mouthful of rock-melon, he stood. The messenger ground to a halt in front of him and began recounting a message through heavy breathing.
"Your Grace, the Minister of Defence has asked for you, he wants to discuss the recent escalation in the Ralkovian slave trade."
The King smiled, and as he began to move quite gradually through the Dining Hall, he began issuing orders.
"Ok, tell the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and the Minister of Internal Affairs to be there as well." As an afterthought he added, "Oh, and grab me another bowl of fruit salad if you wouldn't mind."
He waited as the aide nodded, and stood out of the way as he rushed off out of the Hall. Chuckling, the King made his way through the remaining tables and seats, and walked out the giant doors.

Ministry of Defence HQ
Ministerial Conference Room
1055 hours

The Minister of Defence, Charles Palas, grinned as the King and the Minister of Foreign Affairs walked in the door. After briefly shuffling through the pile of papers in front of him one last time, he stood and walked over to greet them.
"Arny, Peter." He said, nodding to the King first, and then the Minister of Foreign Affairs. "I am glad you both could come, please, sit down."

The King nodded graciously at Charles's welcome, and grinned as he greeted one of his oldest and best friends.
"Charles you old ruffian, I hope you've brought us here for something important this time, I don't want a repeat of last time's fiasco." He chuckled, winking. He sat down as Charles protested his innocence.
"Arnold, that was a freak event, how were we to know that there were tests going on?"
The King laughed at this, and as he sat down he continued.
"Anyway, what do you have here for us this time?"

The Minister of Foreign Affairs, Peter Garadeigal, was undoubtedly one of the King's most trusted advisors. This may have come from their childhood friendship, or it might have come from his unsurpassed skill. Either way he was happy to see the King after his long trip away in Arokop.
"Arny, how are you doing?"
He said, grinning as he clapped his old friend on the back. After greeting the King he turned to Charles, the third musketeer of the trio, and his other best friend.
"Charles, you're looking good!"
He sat down, and listened as Charles began telling them what was up.

After the round of greetings and back-slapping, Charles walked over to the large touchscreen TV on the far wall, and pulled up a report on the Ralkovian situation.
"Now, as you both will know, Ralkovia is the third-largest exporter of illegal slaves in the world. They do this with government endorsement and even participation in many cases."
He paused and waited as the other two nodded, and then continued.
"Up until a few months ago, we stood by and let this gross violation of human rights pass, simply because we didn't have the power or authority to stop it. However this stopped when we officially joined the ICE. Now we are participating in ICE operations worldwide, the most current of which being the slavery interception operation in Tyrrhenia, predominantly targeted at Ralkovian slave shipping."
He paused, and pulled up a series of pictures taken by Daragal Intelligence agents of the various aspects of the Ralkovian slave trade.
"A few hours ago, the ICE taskforce, in which two of our destroyers are participating, located an L-class frigate, identified as Ralkovian. It is almost certainly carrying an abundance of slaves, and we have already deployed one unit of Special Forces to board the ship."
He pulled images taken of the frigate by Darag sailors from the HMS Gantua up onto the screen.
"However that is not the big deal. Ralkovia has a history of getting rid of anyone who meddles with their affairs, permanently. We knew this when we began the operation, and we know this now. However in light of recent events, and a collapse or relations between the ICE and Ralkovia, I believe we should begin to realize the possibility that we may have to help with an invasion force."
He let this sink in, and decided to finish.
"All I request is that we prepare our military for this. I have put together a report on the units we would deploy."
He slid two slips of paper over the table, and awaited their response.

The King took this information in, and began to read through the slip of paper in front of him. After he finished he turned to Peter, and sighing, he asked.
"Can we rely on international support if, and I put emphasis on the IF, this goes through?"

Peter stood and walked over to the touchscreen TV. He quit out of the images of the frigate, and pulled up a file.
"We can already rely on the support of the ICE were we to commit to invasion, however we could also rely on Arokop, SAC and Bubblekirby, not to mention the enemies of Ralkovia, of which there are a fair few. If we were to do this, well, yes, we would be well supported."
He sat back down, and after exchanging a nervous glance with Charles, he awaited the King's answer.

The King sat back and bit his lip. After thinking for a few minuted, he finally sighed, and leaning forward he nodded.
Okay, you have Royal permission. Don't screw it up though."
He grinned, and quickly left, followed by Peter, leaving Charles to think on what to do next.

I.C.E Slave Force
Tyrrhenian Sea
Daragal Helicopters

Seargent Cooper hung on to the handle hanging from the roof of the helicopter as they sped around the side of the Ralkovian ship. He peered out of the side and felt the high speed winds whip his face. He pulled himself back into the helicopter as they completed a run. The other helicopter was hovering a few hundred metres away, staying well out of range of the ship, leaving them to scout it out. He smiled, he loved to be in the thick of things, and this was as thick as you could get. Turning to the calm men sitting in front of him, he grinned.
"Well boys, it looks like we'll be landing soon, just as soon as the Phonies finish a few Wild Weasels."
The men, his men, nodded, grinning, and began to prepare themselves for the fight to come.

[OOC: If you want the specific weaponry individual soldiers use, please visit my Factbook

]

by **The Free Monarchy of Daragal** » Sat Nov 10, 2012 8:55 pm

OOC: Bump

by **Capisaria** » Mon Nov 12, 2012 7:58 am

OOC: Will post soon

by **Erucia** » Mon Nov 12, 2012 2:35 pm

OOC: Just putting this here so I don't forget about this thread again.

by **Ralkovia** » Mon Nov 12, 2012 5:17 pm

Imperial Palace, The Great Obsidian Hall Of The Twin Golden Lion Throne

Samantha Rajarakova looked towards the man dressed all in white and shuddered in fear as she approached his Throne. He looked at her, examining her curves carefully, observing how the crimson sash she wore over her breasts rode up and down her dark white skin. He looked more like a wolf than a man, hungry for her. She gave a weak smile as she began to shift from side to side, showing off her soft and beautiful body, all the while she neared ever closer to that intimidating man sitting on the throne.

His hands gripping a golden sword tightly, a blade known simply as 'The Golden Death.' Everyone in the court had seen that blade, crafted from the finest metals in the Empire and worked on by the best blacksmiths in Ralkovia. It's sharpness was only met by it's beauty. Asian in style, it was more reminiscent of the curved scimitar or katana, than the Ralkovian "Crossing Blade."Jewels glittered nobly from the sheath and a large hollow golden ball sat at the top. A scepter and sword.

She hated her position and was disgusted as she threw away her honor and dignity for the sake of her only sister. She was the first of only two daughters of High Noble Lord Samuel Rajarakova, Noble Lord of the Original Forty Nine Clans and a Former General in the Ralkovian Imperial Army. But more importantly, she was also a halfbreed. Her mother an indigenous native of a new Ralkovian colony conquered by her father. Both had fallen deep in love and then Samantha was born. Of course such relations were heavily looked down upon in Ralkovian Society, and this owed to her present position of debasing herself sexually for the Emperor's sodden amusement.

She walked closer, throwing her unclothed hips back and forth, trying to be erotic as possible. The thin, but fine silk sheet rubbing and stimulating her, all the while giving small glimpses of her privates. Smooth and shaven. Yet, as much as she tried to seduce, the ministers and other Nobles who watched her, only made her curse more at the indignity. Her father had perished only a short two months ago, and their families assets frozen by the Emperor, leaving her Sister, a small, pale, and very sickly girl of fourteen alone without medicine or a warm home. Her sister was very much a full Ralkovian, a proper marriage of two High Lord Nobles. However, Samantha was the heir to the family now, and that was why she knew the Emperor froze her assets. He had made his disdain for half breeds very clear, and it probably repulsed him that a half breed found herself in the original forty nine clans.

She kept repeating in her head that she was doing this for sister, as she tepidly climbed each step, her bare feet curled against the cold, black floor. She knew the floor well, her father had brought her many times to the Imperial Palace. Her father had been a favorite of the Emperor, his huge bristling grey mustache and an even larger beard had graced the Emperor's court for nearly a decade.

She had danced with him some eight or nine years ago, entertaining him at a party for the anniversary of his coronation. She too was only as young as the Emperor and they had nearly shared relations that very night. He had invited her to his chambers and there they had sat on his bed, enjoying the presence of each other. Laughing and giggling as they watched Nobles, Ministers, and other sycophants search for the dirty blonde hair of the Emperor, to find and suck up to him, for position or for promotion. Then it had fell silent as he put his hands around her and kissed her.They moved quickly, undressing each other, until a knock on the door had thrown the nervous Emperor away to answer, only to find himself face to face with her father and several Death Guard escorts.

"My daughter and the Emperor nearly naked in the same room. I do not know whether to be honored or shocked," the large man chortled, placing his large hands on the boys shoulder. She had watched the Death Guard behind her father quickly draw their weapons, before a look from the Emperor caused them to holster their guns. She withdrew from the Emperor's bedroom, but not before planting a kiss on the red faced boys cheek.

"What is your name?" she heard him say.

"Sam Rajarakova," she remembered calling back. Before her father gave her a look that only seemed to embarrass her more.

But that had been so long ago, that young, charming boy had of course disappeared, replaced by a man who only wore the face of the former. She climbed the last steps, fear full in her heart as she circled around the Throne, grinding her body against his. She felt his sudden grasp, warm hands grabbing onto her hips, forcing her onto his lap. His hands sliding down to her thighs. She nearly collapsed as she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck.

It conjured up images of that short night, when she was so ready to throw herself at him. Her breathing became shallow as he rested his head on her shoulder,"Samantha...it has been so long hasn't it?"

"Yes, my Emperor. Nearly nine years," she said, between exhales. She felt his hands move up from her thighs, as they began to play gently across her taught stomach. Her breath became staggered, as suddenly the Noble's and Minister's disappeared in her mind. Her thoughts swirled with desire, clouded with anticipation and lust.

In her thoughts, she faced her doubts, and waved them away. He was still the charming boy she had met, merely keeping the facade of callous behavior and strength for the Noble court. He was charming, handsome, and powerful. Her hands moved to his and rubbed against them, as they sunk down from her stomach to her privates. She threw back her head in bliss, the feelings building inside her.

And then she felt...pain. Blinding and crippling pain. She looked to her side in horror and the Emperor bit into her neck, tearing the soft flesh from her body and spitting it to the floor. Blood poured down her body, spraying from her carotid with such force that it drenched the white robes of the Emperor in a sickly red. His hands retreated from her privates and pushed her slumping body off of his.

"Regardless of status, dirty half breeds will be purged," the Emperor said, looking to the crowd who began to cheer for their Lord. For most, it was of course forced, but better cheer than to end up in the same position at the girl.

The Emperor kneeled towards her, placing his boot firmly on her stomach. He pushed and watched the blood shoot out as he added more pressure.

"Your estate shall be returned towards your sister," he whispered, turning away and walking back to his throne. "Death Guard! I want her away," he shouted, watching as three of the black armored men appeared from the shadows and grabbed her. One put his hand around her neck, a cloth most likely used to stop the bleeding from spraying onto the floor.

"My Lord," a fourth Death Guard said, bowing before the Emperor. "You had wanted us to keep you informed of all attacks on our slave transports. One is currently being attacked as we speak," the Death Guard added, watching the happy look on the Emperor's face sour.

"I do not want this moment ruined, deal with it however you feel necessary," the Emperor said. Dragging his finger down the bloodstains and placing it in his mouth. He was much to preoccupied in the afterglow of such beautiful entertainment.

"Yes My Lord," came the firm shout of the Death Guard, as he rapidly marched away.

The L designation in the L type transport, stood for Leviathan. The Leviathan a great sea monster who was one of the four Great Princes of Hell. Fitting that she represented one of the four main imports of Ralkovia. Slaves.

The Ralkovian L-Types were extremely dangerous, armed to the teeth, with a crew of about three hundred plus a complement guard of one hundred and twenty. It's very existence was owed to the control design of Ralkovian Slave ships. Where upon a single person could magnify control from one hundred people to nearly ten thousand people. Long, narrow hallways limited the advantage in numbers that the slaves had over their captors. Pressurized Bulkheads that could only be opened or closed from a central room further limited freedom of movement. Redundant systems across the ship meant that even if the slaves captured the bridge, control of the ship could be transferred elsewhere. Static gun emplacements that could not be removed, gave defense to the slavers, while shutting down the ability of slaves to arm themselves. And finally, should the slaves prove to be too much to handle, entire sections of the ship could be gassed.

All these considerations went into constructing the L-Type transports, to make it resistant from internal attack. And yet, the L-Types offensive capabilities were so much more fierce, as the foreigners were about to find out.

Captain Isaac moved quickly, reaching out his hand and grabbing the microphone to the PA system on the ship,"Allanean Ships spotted."

The din of the ship became considerably quieter for a moment, as all the men on board considered what it meant. No Mercy. If the Allaneans boarded, they would all die. Like an animal cornered, the Ralkovians felt the pressure. The true viciousness of Ralkovians now came out. Of course, such was a lie that Isaac had said, but it was of little concern to him. To know the policies of every single anti-slaver nation was impossible, and he was carrying with him over fifty thousand slaves. He doubted they'd be lenient in any case.

"Transfer control to secondary bridge and move to-"

As the HARM smashed into its target the radar to the rear of the ship exploded collapsing onto the first slave holding deck. Radar immediately shut down, as hundreds of slaves underneath were crushed. Rubble burned quick, killing several of the crew as well.

"FUCK. Transfer control to secondary bridge, purge slaves from level 1 to level 8, and shoot those fuckers down," Isaac screamed, turning towards the ladder case of the bridge and heading down to the first floor.

AAA guns on the upper deck turned towards the approaching helicopters and began to open up on them. Twenty Triple A guns spat fire towards the enemy helicopters.

Secondary, Infrared Imagining missiles, five in all, launched forward off the rear of the ship to target the Phonencian planes above them. This close in, the Pilots might only have had seconds to react and with no guarantee that flares were going to work, the Phonencian pilots were quite literally fucked.

Nearly all of the slave ships equipment was meant for close range combat and the ICE forces had very much been drawn in towards the Ralkovian L-Type.

As the helicopters had made sure to stay outside of the AAA guns range, the Ralkovians deployed laser guided missiles to deal with them. Isaac took a glimpse from a port hole, as several of the launchers fired, laser targeting would guide the missile right to the helicopters, jamming be damned.

Seconds later, audible only to the men inside the ship was the hiss of mustard gas being released from pipes above the slave rooms could be heard. There was of course the mumbling of thousands of dialects all filled with fear. Replaced only by choking and then silence. There would be no way to know for the enemy that what they were after was dying slow and extremely painful death. Stinging and burning the lungs away.

by **Virana** » Mon Nov 12, 2012 8:31 pm

Thomas B. Knight Building (Headquarters of United Republic Dept. of Foreign Affairs)
Oured, D.A.
United Republic of Emmeria

At her ripe age of thirty-four, Secretary of State Lana Basara was hardly cut out for her job. She was responsible for all major foreign policy decisions in her entire nation, a role normally for someone with much more experience than her. In fact, many of her own subordinates were older than her and, in her own personal opinion, more accomplished as well.

Her age, though, was indeed just a number. She'd graduated from the United Republic's most pristine law school, Northwestern University—the university was the most difficult to gain admission into in the entire nation, and was among the most prestigious universities in the world. Following this she'd gone into law, and soon ran and won as a Democratic senator for Caprica. Throughout her short but storied career she served many roles, including having served as the United Republic's ambassador to Etrius and later, for a very short period, the World Assembly Security Council. Prior to becoming a senator she'd gone abroad and helped hundreds of thousands of people in downtrodden areas of the world as part of Lifeline, her own charity organization to help end world poverty and hunger. As senator she aggressively pursued large-scale education reforms in her state, many of which were instrumental in making Caprica one of the most "intelligent" states in the nation.

Just over a decade after her graduation from Northwestern, she was making it strong.

In 2008, Luis Castilla, another Democratic senator from Santa Fe, chose her as his secretary of state after he won the presidential election of 2008; this had come after he'd defeated Lana in her short-lived campaign to become the first female president of the United Republic. President Castilla had secured a re-election this past year—largely a result of his Castilla Doctrine, a foreign policy wildly popular back at home, and one which Basara herself co-authored, and which was declared just months before the elections—and thus Lana's career continued to shine.

It wasn't all good though; in fact, far from it. Her overwhelmingly liberal views were often met with disdain in the largely conservative southern portions of the United Republic. Her attempts at pushing for healthcare reform as senator were continually denied. In her first year as secretary of state, foreign ministers of other nations were often relegated to guiding her through the difficult decisions as the head of the United Republic's Department of Foreign Affairs. Often her aggressive attacks against conflicting ideologies, which were hypocritically followed by distinctly severe inaction and refusal to employ force, were associated with a very negative image. Critics suggested she was better suited to the role of Secretary of Health and Human Services or Secretary of Education rather than of State.

But in the last three years, she'd learned a lot. She no longer required overwhelming guidance from both her more-experienced subordinates to make intelligent foreign policy decisions. Prior to her status as secretary she'd been one of the most attractive options for any diplomatic role, something which had been washed away in her first year as her image collapsed against the pressure of being the most senior Cabinet member at her age. But now she was back at the top of her game—she'd revived her diplomatic career with stunning successes against tantalizingly difficult odds multiple times. Her "soft diplomacy" had effectively prevented the breakout of war between the Empire of Myrten and another nuclear power, aided in defeating the potential for large-scale military intervention and loss of life in Trotskytopia, and on several occasions either prevented a war that would have harmed Emmerian interests or accomplished objectives in support of those interests.

She was becoming the queen of diplomacy. Something she'd never thought of doing back during her Northwestern days.

The ongoing situation was something she'd been informed of. As part of the United Republic National Security Council, she was briefed on issues in the Presidential Palace's Situation Room alongside the president, secretary of defense Aiden Lawson, and several other officials. She had received a message on the computer in her office from one of her own advisors that the ICE combined slavery interception task force operating in the Tyrrhenia-Gholgoth region had made contact with its first confirmed slave ship, the Ralkovian HMRS Ominous Ends, an L-type transport. After having consulted the president, secretary of defense, and several intelligence officials from the Joint Intelligence Agency (JIA), she'd made her collective decisions.

She began furiously typing on her Dvorak keyboard, her speed easily accelerating past 100 gwam.

Recipient(s): Ralkovian foreign service

Date: Nov 12, 2012

Sender(s): Lana Basara, United Republic Secretary of State

Subject: Slavery Interception

To the esteemed representatives of the foreign service of the Grand Old Empire of Ralkovia,

It may be evident to the leaders of the Grand Old Empire of Ralkovia that Ralkovia is subject to a large-scale multinational initiative launched by the International Coalition for Expansion, an organization devoted to protecting human civil and political liberties across the globe, to enforce antislavery policies as per the Amistad Declaration and various national policies. This initiative likely comes as no surprise to the aforementioned government leaders, who are more than likely accustomed to dealing with antislavery efforts spearheaded by numerous nations around the world every day, particularly due to the fact that, as Ralkovia is the third-largest exporter of slaves in the world, it is a prime target for such efforts.

It is without coincidence that the primary combined task force for the operation, as you likely have discovered, has been running operations in the shipping lanes between Tyrrhenia and Gholgoth—lanes notorious worldwide for the Ralkovian slave transportation industry rabidly popular there. An Emmerian naval asset operating alongside the ICE task force confirmed contact with the Ralkovian HMRS Ominous Ends, which openly declared its intentions to relay all communications between it and the ICE task force to the Ralkovian foreign service. As such, this information is more than likely old news for you unless your own internal communications systems have been unable to rapidly provide you with up-to-date news on ongoing affairs regarding your nation.

It is strictly imperative that I state that the antislavery operations in the region are by no measure intended to limit Ralkovian shipping in the region aside from the slavery industry, which is seen both by myself and by many nations across the world as something inherently evil and misguided. An attack on slave transport vessels would not be launched in order to intensify hostilities between Ralkovia and the United Republic, but rather in order to solely attack the slave trade regardless of its national origin. It is thus that we wish to declare that we do not, again, intend to intensify hostilities between our nations simply due to our strong antislavery stance.

However, being a nation founded upon the basis of freedom, the United Republic cannot interpret Ralkovia's extensive slavery support as acceptable in the modern world. Chattel slavery strips innocent human beings of their inviolable sentient rights in order to fulfill selfish, disgusting desires for wealth and power. Its remote concept violates the very basic principles of a free nation.

Fortunately for the billions upon billions of innocent people around the world forced into servitude, there are many great powers that rise against those who enslave them, serving as a constant reminder to the darkness that it has a strong and skilled opponent in the light, and the United Republic proudly considers itself part of that group. In accordance with the Castilla Doctrine, there are several measures that will be taken to enforce more fair treatment of fellow human beings like you and me.

A significant series of economic sanctions are to be erected between the United Republic and Ralkovia, suppressing all potential trade between the two nations. The United Republic will aggressively pursue, alongside its allies, various options to defend the rights of those enslaved. Any and all Emmerian nationals in Ralkovia or a Ralkovian-controlled state are to immediately be returned to the United Republic without harm regardless of their status as free or enslaved, unless issued permits to remain by the United Republic federal government; such permits are only to be issued to individuals with diplomatic immunity against enslavement. In the best interests of the United Republic of Emmeria, the Grand Old Empire of Ralkovia is hereby considered an Enemy of the State of the United Republic.

With all due respect,

Lana Basara
United Republic Secretary of State

Luis Castilla
President of the United Republic

[OOC: I'll be posting from the slave raid POV later.]

by **New Edom** » Mon Nov 12, 2012 9:42 pm

In armed struggle, the difficulty is turning the circuitous into the direct, and turning adversity into advantage.

Therefore, if you make the enemy's route circuitous and bait him with advantages, though you start out behind him, you will arrive before him.

This is to know the calculations of the circuitous and of the direct
- Sun Tzu

Carrier Constrictor, Approaching the Adiuvo Islands, Tyrrhenia

Walk in deep freezes, huge storage rooms full of fuel, ammunition, communications equipment, clothing...but it was like living in a tomb. No one had thought to put anything cheerful up but some paintings. His bizarrely had scenes of the sea--small sailing ships, fishermen, a group of women gathering shells wearing classical Cornellian gowns of pink and blue and green. he felt cooped up. But the sight of Wendt had warmed General Solomon Barak.

Major Wendt came in to report to him. She was a pretty little thing; an Anglo-German pureblood, which had become rare over the last couple of generations; all the young people wanted to interbreed now, but she looked like she'd come fright from Riemaia or Nordkruessen. Hair smooth and golden as melting butter, clear fair skin, light blue eyes. Not much in the breast department, but hips like a violin, buttocks like warm rising bread. "Major, check and see if there is anything on the diplomatic status of our mission.”

"Yes sir, I'll see to it," she said. She looked at him warily, not that she had any cause for that. "Was there anything else?"

"Have someone bring a fresh pot of mint tea." he said brusquely. As he watched her leave he enjoyed the sight; even in BDUs she couldn't hide that wonderful set of cheeks. He had on occasion of course been unable to resist patting or pinching. He could tell she was warming to these attentions by the saucy waggle of her departure. A nice distraction for an otherwise crap day, constantly organizing and meddling and dealing with circumstances.

He looked up and across the room they were using as their mobile headquarters. a tall dark hook nosed man with raven hair was reading a leaflet. He wore a simple desert pattern uniform along with a traditional Haranese mantle. A sabre lay on his desk alongside a belt with an automatic pistol.

This man's name was Augrim, and he was a Haranese, born a nomad in a tent, belonging to an obscure Christian sect that was mingled with tribal animistic beliefs. Most of all he was his own man, who towered above others in more than mere height. His vision for his people had become legendary among them, though it was barely known even in other parts of New Edom. To some he was a heretic, a murderer and oathbreaker, to others a saviour, water in the desert, fresh air upon their souls. He was known as the Necromancer. Somehow men and women under his command lived when they should have died, somehow he always gained more. It was rumoured that he had magical powers, that the Dust Devils did his bidding, that he was born out of shadows. For his people, who feared evil spirits and paid only lip service to Christianity, these were provocative ideas.

Augrim had spent most of his earlier life going from city to country to desert, rarely resting in one place more than a year or two. He had done many professions, from working on an oil well out in the Oridan Desert (flat, rocky, hot as a devil's breath) to being on a fishing boat to typing in an office. He was equally at home with squatting over roasted lamb and millet in a tent and chomping on a burger in Sterry. And he was also at home in the bomb shelter below the stadium. It had originally been built for the city council when New Edom had gone through a fear craze. It was a place to lay his head, but he was a desert wolf, and rarely rested any one place for long.

Augrim had replaced General Adams as the New Edomite Commander-in-Chief, Expeditionary Force Judah, as well as replacing Admiral Charles Rand as Vice-Commander-in-Chief of ICE.

Nearby two other men smoked near a small desk fan. One of them was Vice-Admiral Prince Eljiah Shalmaneser, tall, Baran to his very bones, long faced and melancholy. The only time he seemed to truly come to life was when he was on his capybara ranch back home or when he was commanding a naval force. The other was the weathered lean General Dorian Hermengild, Augrim’s right hand since the First Civil War, a cunning warrior and the mysterious Augrim’s closest friend.

At the moment they had nothing to do with anything menacing towards Ralkovia; they were simply conducting military exercises with their ally, Lamoni, and on their way to do that. The fact was that they all hated but respected one another, and so there was little reason to talk. Augrim was re-reading endless reports on Tyrrhenia; Shalmaneser was relaxing for the time being and was reading a book on swamp drainage. They rarely made conversation except to say “pass the salt” unless they were actually planning things.

by **Ralkovia** » Tue Nov 13, 2012 1:39 am

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To: Lana Basara
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And the Emmerian people from all corners of the World screamed in unison as their civilization was snuffed out and extinguished under the boot of the Ralkovian Empire. And then silence graced the World as Emmeria was wiped from the historical record forever more.
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His Lord and Majesty,

by **New Edom** » Tue Nov 13, 2012 7:20 pm

Aboard the Constrictor, Approaching the Adiuvo Islands, Tyrrhenia

"Well well," said Admiral Shalmaneser, coming into the room. "It seems that the World Assembly has begun making a decision. Not that Ralkovia's Emperor will so much as quiver, he's hardly a signatory."

"A rogue nation," mused General Augrim quietly, "And most secure in his own burrow. But there is no resolution yet?"

"Not so much as a formal proposal," the Admiral said, "According to the message, so really...while New Edom has supported creating a proposal, we have not so much as signed anything. We are still 'on exercises' gentlemen, and all are communications are to remain in keeping with that." As usual, Shalmaneser was more animated when he actually had a job to do; he sat down with some actual speed and nodded to an orderly to bring him a carafe of fizzy water and pomegranate juice. "However His Most Dread and Awful Awfulness the Emperor apparently issued some kind of public death threat against the Emmerian Minister of Defense....and the people she represents. Let's see...And the Emmerian people from all corners of the World screamed in unison as their civilization was snuffed out and extinguished under the boot of the Ralkovian Empire. And then silence graced the World as Emmeria was wiped from the historical record forever more."

"He claims to be a prophet?" mused Augrim. "Well, one may prophesy and be wrong, or simply be the pawn of the Devil or a fool or madman. Fear is the bedfellow of this Emperor."

General Barak took a deep breath. "But...General Augrim, he means it. This the Ralkovians have done before."

Augrim closed his eyes a long moment. Then he intoned,
O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is;

To see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary.

Because thy lovingkindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee.

Thus will I bless thee while I live: I will lift up my hands in thy name.

My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness; and my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips:

When I remember thee upon my bed, and meditate on thee in the night watches.

Because thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice.

My soul followeth hard after thee: thy right hand upholdeth me.

But those that seek my soul, to destroy it, shall go into the lower parts of the earth.

They shall fall by the sword: they shall be a portion for foxes.

But the king shall rejoice in God; every one that sweareth by him shall glory: but the mouth of them that speak lies shall be stopped." Augrim then opened his eyes. "Friends, be of good cheer, and let the peace which passes understanding dwell in your hearts."

Barak stood up, he barely realized he had done so. This man was his commander, and yet to be outfaced by this desert bandit glorified by the hand of their upstart President was too much. His sense of duty compelled him, but to have the Bible quoted at him so blythely by this mystic...he stood at attention. "I need to take some air, Sir."

Augrim nodded. Shalmaneser stretched out his long legs, yawned, and sipped some of his refreshing drink. "Strong breezes coming up," he remarked. "But your prayers will do us good, I'm sure."

Meanwhile, Barak went to his stateroom, to be alone for a bit. In front of everyone else, he must serve loyally, and punish those who did not, but he felt he would go mad if he heard another one of Augrim's prayers. The man was a fraud, it was his...shtick. The fact that he now and then felt a frisson of something...undefinable...when the man spoke....

"General?" he was caught off guard on his way to the stateroom. He looked into the cornflower eyes of Major Wendt. "Sir, you wanted to see the unit fitness reports..."

"Thank you Major." Barak was tempted to invite her into his stateroom for he was lonely and wanted conversation although not those of his fellow senior commanders, but she was already preparing to head away, being coy again. As the ship rolled a bit she put her hand out to one of the steel lifelines, and he casually complimented her with a caress up the gluteal cleft between the swells of loveliness as she passed. She gasped, and he smiled to himself. Flirtatious little minx, he was glad she was on his staff. Feeling better already, he headed into his stateroom.

by **Allanea** » Wed Nov 14, 2012 7:51 am

Encrypted Message from the United States Naval Command to Allied Task Forces

Dear friends!

Your preparations for the struggle against the slaver enemy have not gone unnoticed. The United States Navy has now prepared multiple submarine squadrons, notably SUBRON-16 under famous Commodore Bogomolov, as well as SUBRON 18 through 21, which will be deployed to intercept slaver communications. We believe it is desirable to shut down naval traffic to Ralkovia from its colonies, focusing especially on its heavy freighter ships. Even one freighter loaded with steel could mean thousands of tons of materials - hundreds of tanks or millions of artillery shells that will not be made.

We will inform you of our further operations as they unfold.

*

Official Press Release from the United States of Allanea:

We would like to announce, to all our allies and enemies, that any and all Allanean bases and Greater Prussian Imperial Based in Tyrrhenia are being put on high alert to guard against surprise attacks by slaver forces. Expect additional updates from us soon enough.

Finally, we would like to announce a reward of $25,000,000 for the Emperor of Ralkovia, dead or alive. Other, smaller rewards will be issued for other Ralkovian officials or for information that will lead to their capture or death. Please inquire with your local Allanean embassy, or our international calling number, 1-800-1-800-REPORT for additional information on our pricing system and reward issue process.

by **Arthurista** » Wed Nov 14, 2012 1:13 pm

"Crap, we're being lazed!" the pilot shouted as the laser warning detector lighted up.

The Arthuristan People's Navy selected its pilots based on a number of aptitudes: reaction speed, intelligence, but the most important attribute of them all was sheer guts, something Lt David Khan was to display in spades on that fateful day.

As the warning signal lit up, he immediately released a cloud of both chaff and flares. The former was intended to confuse laser guided ordnances, the latter against heat seekers. Simultaneously, he cut the throttle by 80%, causing the helicopter to drop like a rock towards the ocean before stabilising at just above the wave top. He could not see the other helicopters, nor could he tell what happened to the Phonencian F-36B running SEAD beyond the fact that a SAM was fired at it - he was simply too focused on the task at hand.

The advantage of SACLOS missiles, whether wire, radio or laser guided, is that they are very difficult to jam. The downside is that the operator must constantly track the target. The chaff disrupted the laser guidance and the sudden and incredibly dangerous manoeuvre threw the Ralkovian gunner off his aim. The result of the combination was that the missile barely missed the helicopter, passing less than half a metre from the rotors.

"Could you see where the shots were from?" the co-pilot asked.

"Affirmative. Time for some payback!"

Merlins were general purpose utility helicopters, not dedicated gunships like a Hind or an Apache. Nevertheless, being pressed into service as a commando assault vehicle, the aircraft was armed with some basic weaponry on its stubby wings. Khan skimmed the wavetops as he approached the freighter at high speed before popping up again, ready to unleash his retaliation.

"Rockets away!" He said as he thumbed the switch on his joystick. Pairs of Canadian CRV7 rockets launched from the wing pods to obliterate known missile an AA gun firing positions. Having used up half his rockets, he opened fire with the .50 caliber gun pods, raking the superstructure of the ship and suppressing the crew.

Captain Amy Percer, the leader of the Marine Commando team, was still less than impressed. "We're sitting ducks out here!" She yelled at the pilots. "Take us in! Get us onto the bloody deck before they launch any more surprises at us!"

She hesitated for a second and thought about asking for permission from the frigate before quashing the thought. In the tradition of Auftragstaktik, Junior leaders in the Arthuristan military are taught from day one to judge the situation on the ground, think for themselves and exercise their initiative. Waiting around for orders or asking for instructions without a good reason to do so are considered the epitome of incompetence. Barring a direct recall from the ship, she had absolute discretion in how the mission is conducted.

She then spoke into her tactical radio set - "All callsigns, this is Echo 1. Our helo is attempting to suppress hostile air defences. Advice we close in ASAP in this window of opportunity before they have a chance to regroup. It's now or never, folks!"

by **The Free Monarchy of Daragal** » Wed Nov 14, 2012 8:29 pm

SkyFox 1
Seargent Cooper

One of the pair of helicopters was instantly destroyed as a Ralkovian missile crashed into it, immediately killing all passengers. The second helicopter, containing Seargent Cooper and nine other soldiers, went into a flurry of activity, and the Ralkovian missile barely missed it. The pilot shouted over his shoulder.
"Everybody okay back there?"
As the various soldiers clambered back to their seats, Seargent Cooper shouted back.
"Yeah, we're good. Get us out of range of their missiles, and begin circling. I want to see where they are."
The pilot nodded to himself, and pulled out of range. Seargent Cooper scrambled into the cockpit, and after pulling the co-pilot out of his seat, he began hailing the Darag flagship.
"DNA Gantua, this is SkyFox 1. SkyFox 2 has been terminated by Ralkovian ground to air missiles, however we are running strong. Withdrawing to a safe distance to proceed with scouting and eventually boarding. Requesting further orders. SkyFox 1 out."
He bit his lip and hoped to hell that not too many ICE casualties had been sustained.

Command Bridge
Darag Flagship, Oliver Hazard Perry class frigate, DNA Gantua
ICE Taskforce

Admiral Perseus cursed as the news came through. He stood and began walking rapidly around the room, bellowing orders.
"Relay the news to Military Command, and tell Seargent Cooper to keep doing what he's doing, and that he's not to go near that thing without my express permission."
He sat down again, and awaited further news.

by **United Nations Alliance (Ancient)** » Wed Nov 14, 2012 9:58 pm

Nomad 6-1
"Shit, they got a bead on us, begining evasive manouvors! Hold on to your asses!" the pilot said. The helicopter moved around the incoming AAA fire. But it wasn't quick enough, a bit of flak hit near the tail rotor, fortunately for them there wasn't much damage, well none that set off any alarms. "That was close...Guns, try to eleiminate those cannons" the pilot said. The door gunner spun up his gattling gun and opened fire on the nearest AAA gun, it was hard to keep on target since the helicopter was moving to avoid fire. Tayla reached behind the rear seats and grabbed the recoiless rifle and fired at the same AAA gun. They knew once they silenced that gun they would have a safe LZ to use, but until then they where in danger of being knocked out of the game. The commtech in the co-pilots seat grabbed the radio. "This is Nomad 6-1, we are under heavy AAA fire, we've been glanced by some flak, have Nomad 6-2 on stand by for CSAR and droping in the secondary team, over"

UNAN Honourable
Nomad 6-2 had been alerted to this situation and was ready on the helipad. "Okay we've had the briefing for the origional mission, now it seems this might become a CSAR mission too. If we need to head in we'll be going with Spear 1 and Spear 2 as defence, now I don't need to remind you but this mission is of the utmost importence and High Command is watching this closey...I'll level with you guys now, we had reports that some CNA citizens amy have been captured by some slavers a few weeks ago and may be onboard this ship...so we aren't just saving people, we are saving some of our people too" the squad leader said to his troops.

by **Revolutionary Insurrectionary Army** » Fri Nov 16, 2012 3:54 am

Merlin 001

"Laser guided missile on approach" The pilot shouted into the communicator "Preparing to take evasive action"

While the RIA piloted Merlin followed the ICE task force it stayed cautiously behind it. instead it relied heavily on the more skilled pilots of the ICE to dish and take the damage while they served more of a support role in the air. As such the missile fired upon it was little more then a stray that had missed one of the more upfront ICE helicopters.
However such a thing should never be under estimated. It would only take one missile to down a helicopter of their class, and if the helicopter was downed it would mean mission over for the squad inside.

"Save death for the ship!" Pavia shouted "He'll have more then enough chances to take us once we board."

"I must admit, I'd prefer not to die at all." Fidel said with a smile "But I guess dying while in the mists of rescuing slaves is more romantic then dying before even getting to the ship itself."

"Alright guys you asked for it." Said the pilot back "Prepare for a rocky ride."

The Merlin did a sharp barrel roll, causing the missile to just barely miss it by a few inches. For amateur piloting it was somewhat impressive, but it was also helped by the fact they weren't a high priority target compared to nations such as Phonencian or Virana.

"So should we drink to this Captian?" Fidel said holstering his rifle in the air "It's fair to say that we just performed our first live fire evasive maneuver."

"It's not that surprising." Pavia muttered "We spent so long shooting rockets at those damned things in the war. It would be naive to think that none of us wouldn't learn anything from that."

"That's true I guess" Fidel laughed "Oh well, I guess we better get moving to board the ship."

"Just wait on the ICE for now. If they don't give the go ahead we might as well be signing our death warrants right now"

"Fair enough you've made your point" Fidel put his arms behind his head and relaxed. "Just wish we'd get to the actual fun bit. It's not fair when there in a ship and we're flying vulnerable."

Pavia ignored him and took a puff on his cigar "Just get us back to the ICE task force." Pavia told the pilot "If we stay out of their pack we'll be left vulnerable to further attacks."

"Aye Aye, returning to ICE task force strike team"

The Merlin made a gradual turn as it returned to the ICE helicopter formation.

by **Capisaria** » Sat Nov 17, 2012 6:54 pm

ICE Main Fleet

The Capisarian vessels here entailed about 2 aircraft carriers, and 10 escort vessels, all cruisers.

Captain John Rexford was the chief commander for Capisarian-ICE Naval Operations for the Capisarian side of things. The Capisarians were taking a backseat to the major operations in this part of the coming conflict against the slave trade. While Capisaria had a decent sized navy of about 60-er so ships altogether, it knew little about how to best use them. Capisarians were much better at occupying territories.

While the Phonencians and others (OOC: Who?) were involved in attacking the L-Type Transport vessels, the Capisarians were sending about 10 fighters up an hour to circle the task force and defend against any incoming fire from enemy vessels. Three AWACs helped with this, and radar showed ships of up one thousand kilometers away.

OOC: Sorry im hungry and reallty bored and this is not what i want to be doing right now sorry for the short post.

by **New Edom** » Sat Nov 17, 2012 7:33 pm

From the Office of the President

To: President Alexander Kazansky
From: President William Touchstone of the Allied States of New Edom
CC: Lana Basara, United Republic Secretary of State
Encryption: Most Secret

Dear Mr. President,

As the nation holding the position of Vice-Commander of Military Operations for ICE (recently appointed) I have begun organizing plans to prepare a blockade even as you have recommended--apparently great minds think alike. I have sent a small expeditionary force to Lamonian held territory in Tyrrhenia, as the Lamonians and Edomites are close allies and have been some time. This is being done under the auspices of joint exercises. It would be beneficial if the ICE alliance were to act in tandem with your own country, as your nation is known for its determined stance against the evils of slavery. My recommendation is that an 'observer team' from your country meet with ICE leadership and Lamonian at the earliest opportunity to discuss a strategy in the event that Ralkovia should attempt to send a punitive expedition against any anti-slavery nation. If we take the initiative this event will be unlikely, we will control the field and be able to deal with the fiend as we wish.

sincerely,

by **Ralkovia** » Sun Nov 18, 2012 4:06 am

(I'm still waiting on Phon to post, I'll get back to the ship boarding as soon as he does)

Outside of Adiuvo Islands, Tyrrhenia

Supremacy was exuded in all aspects of Ralkovian life, especially militarily, and especially in Tyrrhenia. That was perhaps the reason that the New Edomians would have spotted ten Ralkovian submarine surfaced alongside a cruiser. Officers sitting on decks, shooting golf balls into the sea, drinking, or yelling at each other from ship to ship made the scene look entirely relaxed. Tyrrhenia was very much a 'Ralkovian Region.' Militarily, only the Yallakians were a true match of Ralkovia, and they counted themselves among allies of the Emperor. GWO and UWO also found themselves trusted members of the Ralkovian court, making an attack on Ralkovia more suicidal then not. Built with all this confidence, Ralkovia easily practiced its patrols in the region, often surfaced or blaring music out of loudspeakers. Military order had found itself semi-lacking, replaced instead by utmost arrogance. However, it was very well deserved.

Tyrrhenia was very much Ralkovian. That was of course not counting Adiuvo Islands, which was treated as a Lamonian Military Facility rather than any sort of civilian structure. The Ralkovians were not so dull-witted as to honestly think that the New Edomian exercises with Lamoni could be anything else than practice for interdiction or worse. So the Ralkovians had indeed created a show of force and planted it squarely in the New Edomites path. Of course more subs waited hidden under the water, in case the New Edomites had any ideas about taking out the Ralkovian submarines.

It was a piece of theater and nothing more. It's simple message was this "We are superior to you. You offer no threat to us, because we can wipe you out and do it quickly."

Of course, that message was very much undertoned by the small fleet that would have been following the edomites since they entered the region. So far the Ralkovians had deployed thirty ships just to watch over the Edomites. Carriers, submarines, cruisers, and destroyers. All very much just a show of force.

"The damage done?" he said, speaking into the phone.

"Still living my lord," the man, responded on the other end.

"Well that's good news," Emperor Joshua responded, placing his right hand on his head and circling it through his dirty blond hair.

"As for the Edomite fleet, what did you want us to do?" the man asked concerned, he could hear the brushing of hair, on the other end. Never a good sign for the Lord.

"Keep close. They're members of ICE. Once we prepare a force we'll remove them. The cause of concern is the Lamoni. We want them close enough that the Lamoni will either be forced to respond or ignore. If they ignore, we know that they won't try to stop us any longer. If they get involved, then we have the perfect cause to declare war and seize those Islands. Just get enough time for one of the legions to be deployed. Otherwise, we'll find ourselves in a spot of trouble. An invasion with no invaders...hah," the Lord responded, handing the telephone off to a maid, before another ancilla appeared to remove the bloodstained robes he wore. There was a hint of laughter in his voice, madness seeking to escape from his firm lips.

by **New Edom** » Sun Nov 18, 2012 8:01 am

Task Force Joshua

The three commanders of the expeditionary force had each been caught up in different thoughts. Of course the New Edomites had been aware of their 'escorts' for some time, but as they were on no official war footing just yet, they had simply informed the Lamonians and kept quiet about it, and in fact it was treated as though it was no different from entering any other region. Augrim had said quietly, "Thus they do say: thou has entered the lands of the great imperial powers, and all are aware of it, thou little fish."

"And so we are." Barak had said. "We need to report this to Fineberg."

"And shall the son say to the father, 'O my father, thou shouldst lay the seed in the furrows for it is time to plant'?" Augrim had replied, closing his eyes. "Let it be done." What he was actually thinking was that the Ralkovians played a cool game indeed, and that it was a very good one. But he had never imagined that this would be easy, or that they would be revealed to be slobbering tyrants. One did not keep a great empire marching with a light hand. Admiral Shalmaneser came and gave him his thoughts.

"They are being casual--let us be casual too, Excellency," said Prince Elijah Shalmaneser. That gloomy melancholic man was never so glad as when he had the opportunity to take a calculated risk, after all, never so alive as at such moments as this.

Augrim smiled. "Let it be so then."

Barak bowed politely and left to send the message to Fineberg on behalf of the expedition. Madness--he felt he was the only sane man in the high command of this farce. What he prayed to God was that Lamoni came to its senses. Everything was being done wrongly, and he had the horrified feeling that they were doomed before they had even begun. Yet he would do his duty, to the very end. They'd never take him alive though; he'd see to that. Discovering Major Wendt presenting her lovely derriere as he walked, quietly in thought, into the office area, with Augrim's staff officers leaving talking among themselves, he shook his head with a grin. What a little tease she is. While he had the urge to give her a good resounding slap and watch the quivering of her splendid hindquarters, he was gentlemanly and gave her a friendly pat. Wendt gasped and straightened up, pretending to be shy and embarrassed. "You're always hard at work, Major." He noticed her pale face, the way she had a hard time meeting his eyes. "Are you frightened of the Ralkovians?" he asked her kindly, standing to the side of her, giving her several good pinches, feeling the exquisite soft-firmness of her.

"Wh--what? I...um yes, sir..." she stammered, and he was touched by her feminine honesty. Well, he felt it was such a shame that women, such lovely delicate creatures, were forced into the military by the 'progressive' government. At least Wendt had chosen to be an intelligence officer.

"Well it's a grim tough game, young lady," he observed. He rubbed up and down over the rounded curves, his heart going out to her as he saw a tear slide out of a cornflower blue eye down her lightly freckled cheek. "But we'll weather it. Now: these are the latest Council Police reports? Not much, is it?"

"It's um still being gathered, sir, the intelligence on Ralkovia, and it's harmed by the fact that we have no HUMINT, of course, and that we will largely be relying on interpretation of foreign intelligence." Major Wendt said in a trembling voice.

Barak laughed shortly. "Wonderful. We're in a fine situation, aren't we?" he gave her an affectionate good firm squeeze, and she was looking as upset by the situation as he was. "Alright, I have some recommendations about that to make," he announced, "But I'll get the paperwork you've brought me done here, and then we can go over my recommendations in my stateroom. " Poor girl, she was fighting her tears so poorly, her lips quivering, her fear obvious. He gave her a last good caress between the cheeks. He knew exactly what she needed to comfort her. And it was touching again to see how she tried to almost be like a man as she stiffened to attention, tried to deny her true female nature as she said, "will that be all, General?"

He nodded. "I'll see you in my stateroom in an hour." She turned and marched out of the room. He sighed. it was so terrible that for the sake of political ideals young men and women would be sacrificed on the altar of ambition. It bothered him a lot, really. His own sons...all those people in the expeditionary force. What did they really think, that this tiny colony of Lamoni's would be so worth defending? And even if Lamoni entered the war, they would be remembered only as the willing sacrifice. He was no coward, he had stayed at his headquarters during the shelling of Fineberg, had risked his life many times. No, it was the futility of it that bothered him.

He wondered if this was what getting old felt like.

Major Wendt went right to see Colonel Jael Kenaz, who was the most senior female officer in the expedition, commander of the First Logistics Regiment. There were only two women of the rank of full Colonel; they were in fact both talking with the only female full Commander in the expedition, Commander Joanna Heep, who like her was an Anglo-German. Heep was as fair of skin and raven of hair as Snow White, slim and startlingly beautiful—people tended to wonder why someone like her wasn’t simply married--and was the youngest of the three; the navy had been bled dry in the last wars and replacement officers with experience had been hard to find. Wendt felt no cause for jealousy; it was the same for her, a Major at 28. The three of them were in the senior officers’ mess, at a table by themselves. Wendt knew that in some commands this didn’t happen, but it was pretty rare. The women tended to stick together, and the higher in rank you went, the fewer of you there were. She realized her eyes were still wet; she turned away, went into one of the heads, and washed her face before going in.

It had to be Kenaz. She had the pull, and the bluff friendly woman with her strong Baran olive features and dark bold eyes, her elegantly graying hair (the rumor going round the Army was that she was a lesbian, but officially no Edomite woman was ever a lesbian) had charisma as well. You could see her joking with the generals, talking casually with the other colonels. “Logistics and intel are front line units in a modern war,” she was proud of saying, “And don’t you forget it!” At the same time she came from a solid Baran family; in a way she was an insider in a way that Wendt could only dream of being. She admired her greatly. “Colonel,” she said, standing at the table, and before she could speak, Kenaz said cheerfully, “Ah, Wendt! We need a fourth for bridge tonight, will you join us?”

Of course the proper response to a senor officer suggesting such a thing was ‘yes’ and so she said it, smiling.

“Excellent, I know with your talent for math you’ll be a good partner for me,” said Kenaz, winking at the others. Colonel Anthea Gaderoth, the eingineers’ commander and Commander Heep both laughed and rolled their eyes.

“NOW HEAR THIS,” 1MC blared. “NOW HEAR THIS. ALL DECK FORCE PERSONNEL TOPSIDE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES IN FULL DRESS.”

“Up you go,” said Kenaz to Heep.

“Fuck that,” said Heep, “I’m not deck force, I’m Flight Command. And I was flying and directing patrols all night, when I wind down I’m hitting the sack.”

“Colonel, could I possibly have a word?” Wendt said to Kenaz.

“You mean right now?” Kenaz asked, drawing on her cigarette, looking at her thoughtfully.

“If it’s not too much trouble, Colonel.” Wendt felt uncertain now that she was really taking the plunge, but she had wanted to for days.

Kenaz nodded. “Fine. I’ll see you ladies later, prepare to have your asses whooped tonight.”

It was common understanding that you didn’t talk about the Ralkovians. That you showed courage together by dealing with other things. Duty. Bridge. Planning your leave in the Lamonian colony. Stuff. She followed the Colonel to her stateroom. Sparse and neat, of course, though there was a picture of the Colonel’s nieces and nephews together. Wendt shut the door.

“Well?” said Kenaz, sitting on her bed.

“Colonel, I want to make a complaint. Since I joined General Barak’s staff in Fineberg, I got an awkward sense he was checking me out all the time—“

“That’s normal, Wendt. You’re an attractive young woman, just ask Heep for God’s sake. You can’t stop men being men.” Kenaz interrupted with a snort.

“Well, yes, Colonel, but then he started um…touching me. Touching my rear end. At first it seemed like accidents, but yesterday and today he actually did it on purpose.” Wendt said, feeling foolish for some reason under Kenaz’s calculating stare.

“How?” Kenaz demanded, her expression suddenly cold. “You realize, Major, that it’s a very serious thing to accuse a senior officer on the verge of an important mission like this? That it’s not just about our personal feelings or whatever they taught you at Fineberg U, but about our duty?”

“Yes Ma’am, I know,” Wendt said, shouldering her courage as best she could. “But he did—he was patting me and squeezing me and pinching me for something like ten minutes.”

“Patting you and pinching you and squeezing you how?” Kenaz said, her expression as alert as a crow’s.

“I…well…”Wendt was baffled. “As in, he rubbed his fingers between my um cheeks, and patted me, rubbed up and down, he gave me a couple of slaps.”

Kenaz, expressionless, leaned forward and repeated the actions. “You mean he rubbed between like this…as hard as this or soft like this?” she asked. “Pinching hard like this, or soft like this?”

Wendt gasped and pulled away. “Colonel!”

“Major, don’t be silly, I’m trying to determine what the General did. We’re both women.” Kenaz’s expression was hard. “You can’t imagine that I’m actually harassing you or taking sexual advantage of you are you?”

“I…no…” Wendt was baffled, upset more than she’d ever been. What the hell was happening? “But Colonel what difference does it make how he did it? I want to file a sexual harassment suit.”

“Look, Wendt, I don’t think you can call that sexual harassment,” said Kenaz flatly. “Were you wearing underwear at the time?”

“I…yes, of course!” Wendt exclaimed.

“What kind?” Kenaz demanded sharply.

Wendt felt profoundly uncomfortable.

“I said ‘what kind’, Major?” Kenaz said quietly, her eyes boring into Wendt’s.

Wendt said, “Well…they’re boy shorts.” Wendt said, hating the stammer in her voice.

“Boy shorts. The kind meant to give a nice shape to your ass. Not that you need them,” said Kenaz with a smirk. “Holy shit, girl, I’ve seen you in the shower. There’s showgirls at Quality Bay would give their tits for what you got in the pants. Lacy or the smooth kind?”

“They’re the smooth kind. They’re black,” she said, trying to anticipate the questions.

“So you were wearing black underwear, boy shorts. And you also sometimes wear that pink lacy pair. I thought the other day you were going on a date. Nothing wrong with dressing that ass up pretty, Major.” Kenaz was smiling now. “But don’t you think you’re exaggerating this thing? A pretty young officer like you, dressing up, showing her ass off—and a red blooded senior officer patted your ass a few times. Now if he was forcing you to have sex with him—he didn’t, did he?” demanded Kenaz suddenly, her eyes narrowing, “Because if he did—“

“No, he didn’t,” Wendt admitted.

Kenaz simmered down. “Well all right then. I think you misunderstand the regulations, Wendt. I would strongly advise NOT approaching the Judge-Advocate with this.”

Wendt hated it, but she felt a weakness in her body when dealing with the Judge-Advocate. He was a Baran bigot as only an ennobled Haranese could be, and despised women in the combat services, even intelligence or logistics. He had testified before the Committee for the Army stating that there had never been a sexual harassment suit in the New Edomite Army and never would be.

“But what about him touching me?” Wendt said. “I want him to stop.”

Kenaz became businesslike. “I suggest before you demand anything, Major, that you stop being such a tease. Now personally, I don’t mind—young officers sometimes have to blow off steam. Wear baggier BDUs. I know that will put you in a bind because the Commander-in-Chief won’t like it, but it’s your responsibility to set your own boundaries. If he does try to rape you, force you to commit sexual acts, you let me know.” She stood up and put her hand on Wendt’s shoulder. “Alright?”

Wendt didn’t know what else to do but say, “Yes, Colonel.” She felt a sense of despair, but didn’t know what else to do about it, and she had to be with the General in about half an hour to go over an intelligence plan with him….

Up on the decks of the ships, sailors and soldiers in full dress marched along as drums and fifes skirled, as senior NCOs and Warrants shouted, “Right wheel—halt! Left—turn!”

Admiral Shalmaneser moved out of the conning tower to stand in the open air wearing full dress blues along with his staff, medals glinting on his chest, his sword at his side, sash around his waist; he glanced at his watch and almost instinctively so did his staff. Whistles blew, and the bandmaster raised his hands.

“Present—ARMS!” thundered the Master Chief of the ship. Bayonets formed a glittering hedge as feet crashed to the deck. The ships, still moving in formation, the band began to play "The Emperor is our Guiding Lord" and the Admiral and his staff raised their hands in salute.

by **Ralkovia** » Sun Nov 18, 2012 8:50 am

There was shock at the Ralkovian anthem being played, as soldiers and sailors scrambled from their casual positions. Golf balls rolled off the side, Officers jumping from their seats in a mad dash to get into the correct position to honor the anthem. Of course, this was even more ludicrous, as the blackened faces of Ralkovian Death Guard, the paramilitary guard of the Emperor, arose from hatches to observe the procession before they themselves went into the Ralkovian salute, placing their hand horizontally across their chest.

The Ralkovians followed along, and from across the ships came a voice in unison. Years of practice from their fourth birthday till this day, everyday kicked in.

"For our G-d, the Lord, and Emperor, we shall always fight for glory
Under the banner of our fatherland,
We stand strong and brave.
Ralkovia we strive to serve you for eternity.

Without a single break of stride,
Without a single compromise,
We shall stand, fighting every man
That dares to challenge our demands.

Triumph is our only creed,
The Emperor our guiding lead,
To bring us once more to
Our Eden.

Subjugate and conquer
Our eyes turned to our Emperor
Give us your wants, my liege
We shall hand you your victories

From Lowly Slave to Noble Lord
We serve without fail
Interpret the heavens for us

So that From the Tree of Life we shall eat,
Prosperity raining down upon us,
Into the Garden of Eden we shall march,

The loyal servants of YHWH,
The great Lord that has given our humble Emperor
He that is without fail
the mightiest besides the Tetragrammaton himself,
Let us serve to our last breath,
And give death to those who refuse our will.

WE ARE RALKOVIA
LORD PRAISE OUR STRENGTH
WE ARE RALKOVIA
SUPERIOR TO ALL OTHERS BUT THE EMPEROR
WE ARE RALKOVIA
ALL FALL BEFORE US

Long live Ralkovia
We are yours!"

Indoctrinated for ages, it sounded as pristine as any choir one could find anywhere in the World. It was impressive and scary at the same time. The Words were the very meaning of Ralkovia. The Edomites would have probably best understood the Ralkovian values now. Any fight to combat Ralkovia, would have to come against the very words that they used. The superiority and arrogance, the fanaticism and brute military strength.

by **United World Order** » Sun Nov 18, 2012 9:37 am

Undisclosed location near Gholgoth and Tyrrhenia
Aboard The Omega Attack Submarine Hercules

The Hercules which was of the Submarine Fleet based on an island owned by Ralkovia but allowed UWO Naval forces to have basing rights for defensive projection details and whenever Ralkovia required assistance in it's own endavours. The 5th Armada was based on that island aswell which was guarnteed by the Ralkovians that their Armada and what ever supplies, equipment and personnel including soldiers could be based on the island. The island reffered to as "FOX HOLE" by military coding to protect the true identity of the island and everything in it. The Hercules was currently conducting Long-Range patrol in Tyrrhenian waters near the gap between Tyrrhenia and Gholgoth. The Hercules was a recon submarine but was armed as well as anyother submarine. The submarine would be the first to know if Gholgoth naval assests entered the region and would report that to the UWO-Naval Command and proper action would be conducted incase they were comming for them. The Hercules and it's crew had not come upon anything interesting for a while when they started their patrol, then they found it.

"Sir, sonar and optics confirm multiple ships of unknown origin converging somewhere"

"You sure those ships aren't one of Tyrrhenia's inhabitants?"

"Yes sir, bearings do not match those in the database. Unknown origin"

The captain rose from his chair and rubbed his hands together. Finaly we find something in this damn ocean the captain thought as he looked at the crew with him before giving out his next orders which even they could guess.

"Take us there, keep us silent and I want a full assesment of the situation and a report ready for NAVCOM"

"Aye sir!"

The crewmember responded as the captain slipped back into his chair and rubbed his chin. He had been captain of The Hercules for several years and had been almost everywhere with it and with his crewmates. Now they've found something that could blow right up in their face depending on what happens. The Hercules begun to sail forward beneath the waves of the ocean approaching the unknown ships with caution as they got a closer look at what they were facing.

"Captain, Ralkovian bearings found. One Ralkovian ship and the others of unknown origin. They're pretty close probably within combat distance of eachother"

The captain nodded, a Ralkovian ship out at these areas. No way it could of been a normal Ralkovian naval ship. Slave transport the two words immediatly popped up into the Captain's brain as he looked to the officer awaiting further orders.

"It's a Ralkovian Slave Transport ship, probably an L-Transport."

"Sir, I think with all the guts in my stomach that the L-Transport is under seige by the unknown ships. Probably anti-slaver"

"Get NAVCOM on the horn, tell them of our foundings. Maybe they already know"

"Aye Sir!"

Code: Select all: INCOMMING TRANSMISSION.... ORIGIN: HERCULES RECIPIENT: .... NAVCOM, FOXHOLE TRANSMISSION START..... UNKNOWN SHIPS FOUND IN SECTOR 666. RALKOVIAN L-TRANSPORT FOUND IN SECTOR 666. UNKNOWN SHIPS DISPLAYING HOSTILITIES TOWARDS L-TRANSPORT. WAITING FOR NAVCOM ORDERS. END OF TRANSMISSION...

Code: Select all: INCOMMING TRANSMISSION... ORIGIN: NAVCOM. FOXHOLE. RECIPIENT: HERCULES TRANSMISSION START.... AFFIRMITIVE. DIPLOMATIC STAFF WITHIN RALKOVIA HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED BEFORE HAND OF HOSTILITIES. ORDERS ARE TO ASSIST THE L-TRANSPORT IN ALL WAYS POSSIBLY. EVACUATE AREA WHEN UNDER EXTREME DANGER AND REPORT BACK TO FOXHOLE. END OF TRANSMISSION...

The Hercules was now in full Combat-Readiness with recieving the transmission from NAVCOM to assist the L-Transport by whatever means nesseciary and retreat to the island when presented with extreme danger. That's all the Captain needed to see before he was up and adam and ready to kick some ass. The submarine was equiped with it's normal torpedos as all Submarines were and had Harpoon missiles it could launch aswell for more emergency cases. The Captain observed his armaments and what he could possibly do to obstruct damage on the now hostile bearing surface vessels. The Hercules had been keeping track of the hostile surface vessels movements and what kind of vessels they were. Aircraft carriers, destroyers, frigates, cruisers, multiple other escorts and possibly submarines. That was what worried the captain the most, his crew had not reported any signs on sonar of near by submarines. Although he knew he had to be swift with this also knowing the capability of destroyers to commit for anti-submarine warfare.

The Hercules was below the seas enough to see the lower ends of most of the surface vessels, the submarine was almost near the bottom but not all the way their yet.

"Whats the closest vessel out there for us to hit?"

"Sir, closest vessel near our position seems to be some sort of escort"

"Fine. Prepare tubes 1 and 2 for firing. I want that escort in our sights for the torpedos, understood?"

"Aye sir!"

The crewmen manning the torpedo tubes went to work as tubes 1 and 2 were quickly loaded with one torpedo each. The submarines sights were now set upon a escort vessel that was apart of the group of hostiles. Soon with the Captains orders torpedo tube one was launched as the torpedo streaked across the water towards the escort, the captain in it's chair along with his crew waited for a possible hit. If it hit then they would either fire again or leave and find other targets. If it missed they would fire again and leave to reload the tubes. It all depended on this single torpedo of what the Captain's next orders would be.

by **Heirosoloa** » Sun Nov 18, 2012 12:06 pm

Addressee(s): The Grand Empire of Ralkovia
Office of International Affairs,

Regarding: ICE Conflict, Mutual Agenda
#8386 International Street, Orbis, Dǎo

Date and Time: 10:40 AM, November 18^th, the year 2012.
http://www.international.heirosoloa.orb

Encryption: SuperMax

Ralkovians;

I would like to preface this communication by making it abundantly clear that the Oceanic Republic does not condone the barbarism or vile indulgences of Ralkovia. To be quite frank, we would just as willingly burn your armies and enlighten your people, if it weren't for the earthshaking might of the Ralkovian armed forces. But alas, we cannot simply ignore such a force, and so you may continue to feel comfortable behind your endless guns and horses. However, misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. It appears, after reviewing recent affairs, that the objectives of the Grand Empire have aligned with the objectives of Oceanic Republic: we both desire a sudden and violent end to the International Coalition for Expansion, or ICE.

ICE threatens both our ways of life: it has drawn together a greater coalition to conquer Ralkovia and extinguish its particular institution, and it threatens to further violate the sovereignty of more nations, in clear violation of Heirosoloan principles. However, ICE has already made moves against Ralkovia, whereas it expects nothing from the Oceanic Republic. I suggest we use this to our advantage: while the Ralkovian armed forces dismantle the main coalition forces, Heirosoloa prepares a surprise strike on the homeland of one of the heads of ICE (we are currently evaluating our options, and specifically looking at New Edom or Virana). While we obviously cannot publicly support the Ralkovian effort, it is in our best interests to assist in the downfall of ICE to the best of our abilities. Therefore, a coincidentally timed Heirosoloan push could end the war with less damage to Ralkovian shipments.

Our proposal, however, hinges on the fact that it can never be known that Heirosoloa and Ralkovia cooperated. Our global standing and the willing cooperation of our citizens depends on the fact that our contribution to the downfall is viewed as a strike against imperialism, not a defense of slavery. Heirosoloa is entirely willing to accept advise from the more experienced Ralkovian forces in matters of tactics and strategy, provided that our previously stated conditions are met. Simply enough, we do not ask for your friendship or even your respect. We are simply two parties that stand to gain a great deal from agreeing to coordinate our plans of not-killing-the-other-party (for the time being).

I hesitate to wish you the best of luck. In place, I hope that it is Heirosoloa, and not ICE, that will bring about your inevitable end.

Council of Foreign Affairs,

Juan Carlos, head of Council of Foreign Affairs

by **New Edom** » Sun Nov 18, 2012 12:10 pm

Task Force Joshua

Augrim had discreetly watched from the tower with binoculars, chuckling to himself as the Ralkovians fell all over themselves in an effort to respond to their national anthem. "Well done, Sir," one of his younger aides said with a smile.
"Be patient, boy; watch and learn. This is merely the beginning, still." Augrim chided him. He turned to the Captain of the Carrier, Count Jonas Falk the Younger. "My dear Count, do thou send a message to the commander of the Ralkovian Fleet, and invite them to break bread with us. It is surely the least that we can do. Arrange full honours for them, the best plate and silver we have, treat them with the greatest respect."
"Excellency," said the Captain, hiding his bewilderment.

Code: Select all: To: Admiral Commanding, Ralkovian Fleet From:General Augrim, Commander-in-Chief, New Edomite Task Force Joshua Encryption: Moderate RE: A Matter of Honour Dear Sir, I hope that this message finds you and your command in the best of health and spirits. We are greatly honoured to have been steaming alongside you, and feel it behooves us to offer an opportunity to meet face to face, break bread together and exchange full honours as one fleet to another. I have the honour to be General Augrim

by **Virana** » Sun Nov 18, 2012 12:29 pm

Aboard Emmerian UH-1Y helicopter
Nearby HMRS Ominous Ends
Undisclosed location, near Tyrrhenia and Gholgoth

"Enemy lock!" the pilot yelled into the intercom. "Brace yourselves, evasive maneuvers!"

He'd seen the laser warning receivers give the tone, so he knew that him releasing flares and chaffs was pointless. It was a laser-guided missile coming at the helicopter. But at least the flares and chaffs could somehow distract the men operating the laser designator on the Ralkovian ship.

The helicopter's altitude dropped in what was essentially free-fall. It turned to the left and then to the right. The pilot went full throttle and made a tight circle in the air. He then dropped the altitude again until the SEALs inside could almost feel the spray of the ocean waves lap against their faces as they held on for dear life.

The missile zipped by above the helicopter and exploded, its fragment proximity fuse causing detonation just meters above the helicopter's tail. It caused the helicopter to spin in a "death spiral"—one which all helicopter pilots dreaded. Beeps and tones were rabidly going off around the cockpit as the pilot struggled to regain control.

But he was a special operations pilot—if anyone, he could handle it. Slowly, but surely, the helicopter's spiral slowed down—this time, again, meters above the water—as it became stable and he regained altitude.

"Wooo! Don't tread on me bitches!" the pilot triumphantly announced. "One hell of a roller coaster, aye fellas?"

"Is it still flyable?!" yelled LT, hearing the constant beeps from the cockpit instruments.

The pilot paused. "Well, it's still in the air isn't it?" He glanced back and gave the LT a smile, then gave a "hell yeah" nod to his copilot sitting next to him.

Harris broke in. "Get the Phonies to shoot down those missile sites! How the hell could we let that happen?"

"We'll handle it," replied the copilot. "They're gonna get a good fucking taste of what a Hydra 70 feels like."

"No, collateral damage. We're not killing those slaves," said the pilot. He pushed his PTT button. "Varmint Team, this is Muppet 4, we need you to take out those missile sites. And get rid of the damn AA guns while you're at it too—we can't advance until their air defenses are neutralized. Out."

Bridge
URS Midsummer Night
ICE combined antislavery task force
Undisclosed location between Gholgoth and Tyrrhenia

"Sir, ICE units are reporting SONAR blip a few klicks from here. Agonizingly close. Bearing 0-3-0," said the radio operator aboard the bridge.

"The Ralkies have a sub?!" Captain Del Rio asked quickly.

"Could be, but it's too far out to be an escort. Unknown origin but approaching fast."

"Contact it and have it identify itself," he ordered to the operator. He turned to his XO, Commander Calhoun. "Tell NORTHCOM what we're dealing with. Relay all comms with this sub to them. And get any anti-sub warfare units up—including our own heli's."

"Aye, sir."

"Unidentified submarine, identify yourself and halt your approach or you will be fired upon."

Situation Room
Presidential Palace
Oured, D.A.
United Republic of Emmeria

It was the second National Security Council meeting in as many days.

On one end of the long, deep brown table sat President Luis Castilla, directly across from a large, bright display on the wall. On either side of the table was a row of seats in which sat the intelligence officials, cabinet members, and other individuals who were part of the NSC. On either side wall was another row of seats—only a couple of which were filled by observers—while the walls themselves held smaller, yet still large, screens.

Yesterday the Council had discussed the Hegemonic Union's threats to close down all ICE shipping entering Pardes. Intelligence had confirmed that the HU was planning to support Ralkovia in the endeavor—by shutting down ICE military commerce through Pardes, the Hegemonic Union would be giving Ralkovia a free chance to waltz in and invade the United Republic. The U.R. flatly denied the declaration in a response to the HU, stating that it would ignore the HU's denial of access and continue joint operations with ICE in Pardes.

Today they were dealing with somewhat better news, but alongside it came the same level of stress associated with the escalation of previous hostilities with the HU.

President William Touchstone of the Allied States of New Edom was suggesting a meeting with ICE leadership, Allanea, and Lamoni. The onset of war between Ralkovia and ICE was a topic no one really discussed, but there was one eery fact that lingered in the atmosphere whenever foreign affairs were considered—war was imminent. Lamoni, a longtime ally of New Edom, had pledged its support for ICE operations against Ralkovia. Allanea had essentially done the same. The two were among the largest anti-slavery nations in the world; their support would be vital.

President Castilla felt that he himself should respond to a communication of such importance. He closely analyzed the message as it was displayed on the big screen to the NSC. There was no doubt that he should meet with the representatives of Allanea in order to prevent an attack by Ralkovia. There was almost no doubt in his mind—and the mind of the U.R. Joint Intelligence Agency—that he United Republic was Ralkovia's first target. Every bit of evidence pointed to it. From Ralkovia's eery message to the HU's denial of access, it all seemed so blatantly obvious. In preparation he'd ordered an increase in exercises by the Colonial Guard, called back a number of troops to be stationed at bases inside the United Republic instead of abroad, an placed the military at a higher DEFCON level collectively.

He also understood the importance of meeting with Lamoni and Allanea as soon as possible. His deep brown eyes were locked on the message as he read through its last words, his tan-brown skin and wrinkles on his forehead and face serving as the defining features of his personality alongside the most serious of expressions that he displayed. It almost felt as though every little foreign policy decision he'd made was coming back to bite him. He ran his wide fingers through his short, black hair that was starting to show signs of graying, and then moved his hands through his modest black-and-gray goatee. As president he probably should have shaved it off to maintain a more professional look, but there were other matters of greater importance to deal with first.

He looked towards the laptop sitting in front of him, then up at Lana Basara, his Secretary of State. "I'll handle this one, Ms. Basara," he told her matter-of-factly. She looked at him with a face of complete understanding, her deep brown eyes giving a look of tiredness and worry as her dark black hair, visible through her liberal Hijab, almost glimmered in the dim light.

President Castilla began typing. It was almost completely silent in the Situation Room, the quiet only punctuated by the constant sound of keyboard keys being pressed. What he typed was appearing on the tablet computers of each member—important because they could help correct any mistakes and support his statements with intelligence reports and the like.

Recipient(s): President Kazansky of Allanea

CC: New Edom, Lamoni, Lib. Gov., ICE

Sender(s): Luis Castilla, President of the United Republic of Emmeria

Encryption: Military - Level 5

To the esteemed honorable Mr. President Alexander Kazansky and the representatives of all nations receiving this message,

As notably suggested by President William Touchstone of the Allied States of New Edom, I believe it is absolutely essential that military and diplomatic cooperation between the International Coalition for Expansion and the United States of Allanea commence as soon as possible. Further cooperation alongside Lamoni, Libertarian Governance, and other major antislavery nations is absolutely essential in ensuring the security of the United Republic and other ICE member nations from aggressors such as Ralkovia and the United World Order.

We fully support the organization of a summit involving ICE member nations, Lamoni, Allanea, and other potential supporting parties in order to discuss the possibility of strategies and policies to implement in the event of Ralkovian aggression against an ICE member nation. Such would be within the interests of world antislavery organizations against the Ralkovian slave trade—one which is considered to be among the largest in the world—as well as providing security to fledgeling antislavery powers such as the United Republic of Emmeria, the Allied States of New Edom, and other ICE member nations. As such, we will openly push for further cooperation between ICE and other antislavery nations as suggested by Mr. President Touchstone.

We deeply and sincerely hope you consider this proposal.

With all due respect,

Luis Castilla
President of the United Republic

[OOC: Sorry for the bad quality, I was in a hurry.]

ICE-Ralkovian War (IC closed, MT)

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