Badb Catha International Military Academy (IC)

[Skibereen]

Social Liaison Officer Col Demadred takes his station at the podium.
As always the man is a bulwark to the presidential office.
He countenance is strong his eyes bright and non-betraying, he gives a slightly larger smile then he usually does give the press and he begins to speak
"Good day. So what I would like to do is start this off with some information about the Badb Catha Military Academy.

Badb Catha, will be the largest and essentially only institution of its kind in the world. The main campus will be comprised of 982 acres on the Raven Island Naval reservation in the South East Sea. In addition to the main campus there will be additional facilities made available to the students of the Academy. Yes, Colin you have a question?" He points towards a large very black man in a grey suit.

"What could they possibly need access to that isnt available to them in 982 acres?"

"Excellent question, that would of course be the sea for one thing Colin. The Badb Catha is a complete Military Academy. Theory and practice will be instructed there so that it can be taken home and retaught. This isnt basic training, this will be the place that teaches the teachers. Yes, it does serve as an Academy for Cadets as well as current military. If a soldier is forged from iron, then we are the people who will create the blacksmiths.
Badb Catha will send back to its respective nations the best officers and best enlisted men with the best training to make more of the best.
The concepts here will provide a place for each nation to contribute its greatest doers and thinkers to reshape modern military thought and instruction.
The Raven Naval Military Reservation will be more then just a location for the school, it will be a cache of the greatest military thoughts of the world.

We do not intend for the Badb Catha to be the end of this revolutionary line of thinking we intend for it to be the beginning. Next question?"


Another Press Agent "So who exactly is paying for this?"

"Nice question Terry. The Academy will take donations from Foreign National Military Arms, and Educational Institutions. Of course there will be a nominal tuition required to be paid per attending student. Of course no nation contributing faculty will have to pay full tuition for their attending soldiers. I want to be clear, this is however the beginning. Skibereen is transitioning away from Militarism as a mere political facet. We recognize the respect that the general populace holds for both our Educators and our Protectors. This ingrained national pride in both Scholarly and Martial pursuits will be raised up in a culmination of the Raven Island Military Reservation providing the worlds most comprehensive Warrior Scholar Program.

This is not a gimmick Terry, this is the crest of the cultural wave that has been building in Skibereen for over a century.

This is the chance to better the world through our own experiences to share the best of our culture. Our love of learning and of martial traditions and skill. You ask, who is going to pay for this? I ask you Terry, who isnt going to profit from this? Next question."


"You keep talking about how this is just the beginning, what else can we expect to see? The Academy is a fairly massive undertaking."


"Well James, I cant get into too many details yet. However, the Raven Island Military Reservation is going to be under going a dramatic change, and it will involve creating services for soldiers and scholars alike the world has not seen.

I am talking about a true tribute that will cement Skibereen as not only the center of Military learning, but Scholarship in general. Again, when weighing out costs...we all know education is strong and sure investment. Along with that the RIMR will also be in keeping with some of other cultural traditions. Next Question."

" There have been rumors that the Academy has already been operational for several years now, and this is merely the opening for the benefit of public announcement, is there any truth to that?"

"Well, its actually completely true. The initial program allowed the exchange of certain select nations who will go unnamed to participate in the first classes. Today as we speak Badb Catha Officers and trained operators are likely on a battlefield. To be frank, we wanted to make certain the Academy could be successful before a full scale unveiling. Next Question."


Could we have a little better explanation of the Academy itself?

Certainly, brochures are being passed around and you will be able to quote that as an official source.

BROCHURE
Babd Catha International Military Academy and Graduate University
Serves as an academy for the undergraduate education and training of commissioned officers, certain Non-Commissioned Officers in the role of training and leadership. As well the Babd Catha operates as a post-graduate institution for the training of doctors, nurses, and other medical professionals for the military and uniformed services. Additionally granting Master's and in some cases Doctoral degrees in other areas of study. Every commissioned officer in the Irysh-Finegall Armed Forces is expected to have(or be working towards) a post-graduate degree.

The School from the ground up(Fundamentals of curriculum):
Babd Catha(Under Graduate) academic program grants a bachelor of science degree with a curriculum that grades trooper's performance upon a broad academic program, military leadership performance, and mandatory participation in competitive physical activities.
All under-graduate students reside on campus and dine together en masse on weekdays for breakfast and lunch and dinner.
A full-time, four-year undergraduate program that emphasizes instruction in the arts, sciences, and professions. Students are expected to acknowledge the rank of other students and conduct themselves accordingly. While equal as students proper military decorum is expected at all times. Freshmen and sophomore core courses of instruction consist of mathematics, computer science, chemistry, physics, engineering, history, physical geography, philosophy, leadership and general psychology, written composition and literature, foreign language, political science, international relations, economics, and history of military law. Some advanced students may "Test up" out of the base-level classes and take advanced or accelerated courses earlier as freshmen or sophomores.

All students receive commissioning as dictated by their respective nation and service branch upon graduation, so military and leadership education is intermingled with academic instruction.
Military training and discipline fall under purview of the Office of the Commandant. Entering freshmen are referred to as New Men, and enter the academy on induction day(I-Day),which marks the start of basic training (BT), known colloquially as Boars Barracks, or simply Boars. Most students consider Boar to be their most difficult time at the academy because of the strenuous transition from civilian to military life. Their second summer, students undergo field training (BFT) at nearby Raven Naval Reservation, where they train more advanced field craft and military skills. During a cadet's third summer, they may serve as instructors for CBT or CFT. Rising (senior) students now also spend one month training at RMR, where they train for modern tactical situations that they will soon face as new unit leaders. Students also have the opportunity during their second, third and fourth summers to serve in active military units and cooperative military schools around the world.

All students take 'movement prowess' courses (applied gymnastics), boxing, self defense, swimming, and advanced combatives. Students must also take at least one elective physical activity class such as scuba, rock climbing, fencing, and/or aerobic fitness. Sanctioned Martial Arts instruction to a first level expert(colloquially 'Black Belt') is an acceptable replacement for such an elective, however holding a current first level expert rating does not qualify. An additional line of study must be taken.

A physical fitness test is administered four times a year.

As well as those courses a student must participate in some level of sport.

Moral-ethical development occurs throughout the entirety of the cadet experience by living under the honor code and through formal leadership programs available at the academy. These include instruction in the values of the military profession through Professional Military Ethics Education, voluntary religious programs, interaction with staff and faculty role models, and an extensive guest-speaker program.



Babd Catha(Graduate/Post-Graduate) caters to high-level military personnel and civilians and prepares them for strategic leadership responsibilities.

A great deal of emphasis is placed on research, students are also instructed in leadership, strategy, and joint-service/international operations.

Basic Introduction Program:
an introduction to strategy and to the unique skills, knowledge, and attributes needed as a foundation for their progressive development as Military Strategists.

Students take classes in advanced strategic methods and diplomacy. Several institutes serve the university in developing policies of the government, while also creating simulations and war games to help keep the military current with specific concerns.




The school offers a master's one-year intensive study program.


Babd Catha currently offers the Ph.D. in(but not limited to) Advanced Military Studies, History, Martial History, Philosophy, Physics, Chemistry, Engineering Disciplines, Emerging infectious diseases, medical and clinical psychology, molecular and cellular biology, neuroscience, pathology, preventive medicine and biometrics, Doctor of Public Health (DrPH), Graduate Nursing Degree and zoology.

The curriculum at the School of Medicine includes two years of basic sciences, integrated into several key courses. Additional courses include Parasitology, Combat Medical Skills, Military Medical History, Officer Professional Development, Military Applied Physiology, Epidemiology, and several other courses. The third and fourth years are spent performing internships at various military hospitals.



Example of some Departments related to Military Issues

Theoretical Examination of Military Doctrine(Modern and Historical)
-Absolute War
-Air superiority
-Air Supremacy
-Blitzkrieg
-Combined Operations
-Cult of the Offensive
-Deep Operations
-Economy of force
-Netcentric warfare
-Vernichtungsgedanke und Koalitionskriegführung
-Principles of War
-Contrasting Fuller, Klauswitz, Jomini, Sun Tzu,
-Examining History(Great Commanders and Battles)
-Examination of Warfare Evolution
--1st Generation Warfare
--2nd Generation Warfare
--3rd Generation Warfare
--4th Generation Warfare
-Directive Control

Command and Control
-operations security (OPSEC)
-Maskirovka
-psychological operations (PSYOP)
-electronic warfare (EW) and
-psychological warfare


Special Warfare Department
Badb Catha Sniper School
Mountaineering Academy
Applied Unconventional Warfare


He begins again-
Now listed in that brochure a sampling of the scope of the Badb Catha Academy. Indeed there exists no common facet of military that exists that will not be covered at the Academy.From Cadet training to pilot sharpening programs to full scale Naval Task Group war games.

However, there is a limited number of nations per class that will be allowed and those nations will under go a vetting process. While we would like to have a representative of the Academy in every nation...to be frank, not every nation has the standards to be allowed into the fraternity that will be the Badb Catha Legacy. So applications are required."

Academy Founding Nations Involved in Program by either utilizing Officer training and or providing Instructors
The Rebuilt Nation of Azaha
The Kingdom of Crookfur
The Holy Empire of Doomingsland
The Federal Republic of Franberry
The Soviet Federation of United Hogsweat
The Confederation of Questers
The People's Republic of Hurtful Thoughts
The Dictorial Republic of Sumer
The Freehold of Mondoth
The Glorious Military Junta of No endorse
The Democratic Republic of Cazelia
The Free Republic of Lamoni
The Federal Republic of United States of PA
The Peoples and Tribes of Mazara Palani
The Unified Commonwealth of Morrdh
The Federation of Ekraysia
The Kingdom of Shansekia
Empire of the Twin Thrones of Karita
The Republique of Central Prestonia


SPECIALTIES CURRENTLY IN SESSION

Specialized Warfare Lecture Series
Military Operations in Urban Terrain(MOUT)
Expeditionary Warfare
Modern Siege
Tactical Considerations for the Combat Pilot in the ASAT mission
The Holy Empire of Doomingsland
The Federal Republic of Franberry
The Dictorial Republic of Sumer

Mechanized Warfare School
Mechanized Combat(Strategic and Tactical) Application and Theory
(Live to Ride, Ride to Live...Shoot to Kill)
Instructors Provided by
Empire of the Twin Thrones of Karita
The Dictorial Republic of Sumer

Special Warfare School
Basic Application and Theory for the Special Forces Operator
(...And I will come like a Thief in the Night...)
Instructors Provided By
The Peoples and Tribes of Mazara Palani
The Holy Empire of Doomingsland
The Armed Republic of the Three Isles of Skibereen

Insurgent Warfare School
Insurgent Warfare Application and Theory
(Hearts, Minds, Boots, and Blood)
Instructors Provided By
The Armed Republic of the Three Isles of Skibereen
The Holy Empire of Doomingsland
The Republique of Central Prestonia

Jungle Warfare School
Tropical Warfare Application and Theory
(Guerrillas in your Midst)
Instructors Provided by:
The Confederation of Questers
The Federation of Ekraysia

Desert Warfare School
Arid Environment Warfare Application and Theory
(...welcome to my sandbox...)
The Holy Empire of Doomingsland
The Dictorial Republic of Sumer

Armored Warfare School
Armored Combat(Strategic and Tactical) Application and Theory
(Full Battle Rattle)
Instructors provided by
The Dictorial Republic of Sumer
The Holy Empire of Doomingsland
The Armed Republic of the Three Isles of Skibereen

Strategic Warfare School
The Application and Theory of Radiological Weapons on the Battlefield
(Fall-in for Fallout)
Instructors Provided By
The Glorious Military Junta of No endorse
The Kingdom of Shansekia

Military Intelligence School
Battlefield Intelligence Gathering/Suppresion(Strategic and Tactical) School
(Always Hidden, Always Unknown)
Instructors Provided by
The People's Republic of Hurtful Thoughts
The Armed Republic of the Three Isles of Skibereen
Nations Involved in Program by either utilizing Officer training and or providing Instructors
Allied States of Tutlingburg

Applications are welcome.

[Tutlingburg]

To: Badb Catha International Military Academy



We would like to send our top 30 cadets from the Tutlingburg Military Academy to spend a semester learning from the esteemed teachers of the Badb Catha International Military Academy. Our curriculum is very similar to yours, however a different angle on the same subject can provide our cadets with a better insight on the battlefield.

We would also like to provide the Badb Catha International Military Academy with a complete tactical transcript of the recent Tutlingburgian Civil War,for use in your library, so they may see some novel Tutlingburgian military tactics. We can also send some of our top military commanders, to give in-class presentations on current or past military tactics.

We await your decision.



Pamela Hopkins
Minister of National Defense
Allied States of Tutlingburg

[Skibereen]

Office of Field Marshall Erick Moorsdagr rtd, Badb Catha Commandant.

Dear sirs,
We welcome the cadets for testing and inclusion for a semester at the Badb Catha Academy.
Transcripts and documents with regards to the Civil War in your nation are a most desired piece for the Library, and for Martial Academic analysis.
Allowing officers in your Military to come and peform as periodic Guest lecturers on the subject of your military is also a welcome addition to the available knowledge obtainable at Badb Catha.

The tuition for the young men, is the amount it would cost to train them as Officers at home.

From the desk of Erick Moorsdagr

em:mm

[Hurtful Thoughts]

<Stating obvious: HT is very strong supporter of cadre-training>

Tagging: Because I'm kinda shit-faced OOCly, will consider publicly allowing Hurtian reporters to follow the training of Hurtian BCIMA Cadet: Lt Bradley.

[Chazicaria]

temporarily deleted.

[No endorse]

Students of numerous nations and ranks staggered into the lecture hall at Badb Catha. Early classes were a pain, even if one had to muster on the grounds bright and early for PT and role. At the front of the room stood one man facing the blackboard, ancient beyond guessimation, with a piece of sidewalk chalk clutched in an almost grotesque clawlike appendage where a hand should be. Closer inspection revealed this to be the gnarled vestiges of the instrument that had caressed these blackboards so many times over the years. Each time it so moved, it imparted the knowledge of its controller into the minds of new willing students, each class more innocently unaware than the last.

Attached to this implement of writing and drawing was an impossibly sharp Endorsian military uniform, with full flag regalia. That shade of olive was unmistakable, the bright orange and red bands and black trim merely served to confirm the subject's identity. A cascade of white hair spilled between hat and impeccable collar, and chiseled formations of flesh and cartilage that once purported to be ears projected from the sides of the figure's head. Pausing for a moment, this being exhaled sharply and scribbled an incomprehensible series of marks onto the board, drawing lines and arrows between them. A curious pause for just a second longer than seemed comfortable, and an eraser had turned the entire board into a white smear.

The figure whirled revealing a deeply scarred face obscured by thick eyebrows, an exquisitely trimmed mustache, and a pristine beard. Eye-sockets appeared to exist on either side of a craggy nose, standing proud as a wind-torn mountain peak. "I AM JAMES ERWIN PACKARD!"The grating scream to order echoed throughout the hall.

"I am a retired Chief Strategist of the Glorious Military Junta. As such, they have asked me to impart unto your virgin minds the ability to think like a Chief Strategist." Packard gestured violently to the ground. "I SHALL NOT SUCCEED! Your thoughts are constrained by something approaching the much-vaunted 'sanity' purported by those who make the perpetuation of such concepts their trade. But, I shall endeavor, as shall you. This is the purpose of Strategic Studies. I shall first attempt to impart Thought unto you. Then we shall discuss Knowledge, from nuclear detonation systems to nuclear delivery systems. Topics such as M-A-D and N-U-T-S shall be expanded upon fully. Finally, we shall discuss to a limited extent ACTION!"

"THIS IS A CLASS ABOUT THOUGHT! And through thought, action, and through action, victory. THIS IS ALSO A CLASS ABOUT NON-THOUGHT! Through non-thought, your thoughts can remain undivined by those seeking to divine thoughts for their own nefarious purposes! Finally, KNOWLEDGE IS KEY! YOU!" Packard pointed at a student in the front row. "What is the name you go by?"

".... Ellen DeLuc?" The student answered meekly, attempting to disappear through her seat. Large brown eyes and flowing hair displayed naked terror at this organism now gesticulating wildly, scratching her name onto the vast expanse of green slate at the front of the room. Smart Prestonian Army attire did little to obscure the blind incoherence taking hold, the gray with crimson trim heaving with its owners movements to become as invisible as possible. A clover pin on the lapel, a Lieutenant's bar, the unmistakable cap, Prestonian indeed. She jumped perceptibly as Packard inscribed a massive line through her name, the chalk screeching against the board.

"NEVER DISCLOSE YOUR IDENTITY TO THE ENEMY, OR THROUGH CARELESSNESS ALLOW YOUR IDENTITY TO BE KNOWN TO ANYONE, INCLUDING YOURSELF!" Packard's motions became frantic, a new dizzying series of..... somethings.... appeared on the blackboard, attempting to instruct the viewer of some deeper purpose. "THE ENEMY IS WATCHING, THEY'RE WATCHING I SAY. They know what I write, they have a secret spying device and have laced the chalk with magnetic powder to detect what I write on the board from space in their station with nuclear weapons that they could launch and use to KILL US ALL!" The last three words were carved into the board, recieving the necessary underlining that any major term has as its due. It would probably be on the test, after all. "BECAUSE OF MY WRITING, THEY MAY VERY WELL KNOW THE NAME OF THIS PURPORTED ELLEN DELUC!"

Packard opened his briefcase and tossed a thick stack of manilla envelopes at student at the end of the row. "I picked up these manila envelopes at the shipping store on the way over. The cute girl behind the counter is a double agent working for us and secured me some posterboard and disappearing ink, just use water. I don't know any of you, you don't know me. If we're caught, they'll learn EVERYTHING AND THEN THEY MAY NUKE US! NUKE US! But these manila envelopes are immune to their secret spy rays and we can turn them inside out and mail them to ourselves in case we forget to forget to remind us to remember to forget so the enemy can't steal our plans from our brains." Several students at the back of the room edged towards the door, quietly slipping out and away from this lunatic rant. The token Endorsians, however, stared in awe at the debilitating genius thus displayed.

"It must go without proof or justification for now, but as shall be demonstrated later in the course, we have to nuke the enemy first. We must nuke them harder and faster than they can nuke us first because they'll be nuking us second and not first but it will be like its first because the missiles will be passing each other in flight so we must minimize this. The enemy may use heat rays and their spies in the room behind the chalk board to reduce the effectiveness of our primary strike, so we must ensure that they think that we think that they have succeeded in eliminating our first strike capability, by thinking that they think that we know that they think we think we know."

"NOBODY MUST KNOW WHETHER YOU EVEN HAVE NUCLEAR WEAPONS, ESPECIALLY THE PEOPLE ORDERING THE NUCLEAR STRIKE! THIS IS KNOWLEDGE THE ENEMY COULD USE AGAINST US! Here, I went to Kinkos, they're agents for the enemy you know, and ran off copies of an example nation that DOES NOT NECESSARILY REPRESENT ANY NATION KNOWN OR KNOWN THAT MAY OR MAY NOT EXIST IN WHAT MAY OR MAY NOT BE THIS EARTH. WE SHALL PLAN OUR ATTACK, AND FORGET ABOUT IT THAT IT MAY BE USEFUL!"

"This shall be our opening exercise, and it shall contain examples of everything to be discussed later in the course. The concepts touched on here shall be fully derived, and then obfuscated that the enemy may not know the right from the left! You must use your manila envelopes. I shall collect them at the end of lecture, and mail them to you separately that you may retrieve them at your convenience with necessary additions, modifications, criticisms, and of course, a flan recipe. WE SHALL BEGIN!"



And with that, begin they did. And, those that chose to stick through found that they thought more like Packard with each passing day, with each stroke of the chalk on the board, and with each discussion of optimal tinfoil hat geometry. Pinpoint precision and an inexhaustible knowledge of the inner workings of the mind of the enemy revealed the very nature of strategic warfare and the methods best adapted to annihilate all existence.

The Flan was good too.

ooc: this the sort of post you had in mind? Or the sort of thing you never ever want to see ever again?

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Lt Bradley was quite entertained by the notion of a secret nuclear stockpile. Or rather, a rumur of a stockpile that in reality doesn't exist to be used as a deterant, or even both simultaniously by use of proxy-agents believing you hav nukes and possessing a hair-trigger, while you lie about lying about lying to everyone by say you personally don't stock nukes.

This however, left him with a question as his eyes flitted past the crossed-out name once more.

He raised his hand to ask a question.

"Sir, you started your speech by pronouncing your name to all of us, should we forget that as well? Because it seems more important in identifying yourself outside of the classroom, but serves us no value inside the facility. All we must know is that you are the genius instructor and we are the students."

In fact, by day 3, he actually did forget the instructor's name.

But the Prestonian girl... He knew her name, EVERYONE knew her name.

[No endorse]

Packard froze mid-motion, his artistic interpretation of an Endorsian Banded Trout half finished on the blackboard. "Ah, but a name so named names the named namer in name only, correct? Then the naming of the namer's name must in name name incorrectly to obfuscate the name of the named namer!" He whirled and gestured with a flourish, beaming with victory.

After a moment though, his shoulders dropped and head rolled forward slightly. ".... but yes, please do forget that. They told me that if I didn't tell you, I'd lose my tenure. You're a Hurtian, aren't you? I see the gift of thought still runs strongly in your nation. Excellent, then thoughts and un-thoughts of a thoroughly thoughtless nature think through this thrashing thesaurus of taught things while I teach! You will do well."

[Questers]

"Welcome to your introductory class to the School of Tropical Warfare."

The recruits sidled in and the first thing that hit them was that this classroom was incredibly hot. The room was cramped; barely enough space for them all, and the windows were closed shut. Along the side of the walls lay lines upon lines of portable heaters; there were even portable heaters hanging from corners of the walls. At the back of the room stood a man in a Questarian jungle green uniform with his sleeves rolled up. The recruits sort of stood in the centre of the empty room, wondering why there were no chairs or desks. The only other object in the room aside from the extra heating was a thermometer that hovered at 33C/91F and a pack of large paper held up by a tripod stand.

"Sit down ouens," the man said. Some of them got the idea quickly, others didn't quite get it until every started sitting down. "And will the last one please close the door. Good. I am Major-General Baxter, Questarian Army. I will be your instructor. Before we start, I think I should introduce myself to you." He pulled a thick pencil out of his chest pocket and folded a sheet of paper over on the tripod stand.

"1950. My national service. I get a transfer to the Imperial Special Air Service." He wrote '50 on the board and drew an arrow pointing to the words ISAS.

"1951. Four Day War breaks out. I serve in San-Nereiana." He writes '51 and the words FOUR DAY WAR below the last line.

"1955-59, I serve in East Continentia with ISAS. Promoted to Major and given command of my first Battalion." He writes '55-59 on the board and an arrow to the words COM-BAT, 363 ISAS.

"64-68, I do six tours of Paralentum in command of 363 ISAS." He writes 64-68 PARALENTUM.

"1972, I'm transferred to Clandonian South Haven, fighting Prestonoids." He wrote '72, PRESTONIA on the board.

"1973, I became a Mercenary and fought in Karain. He wrote 73-75 and drew an arrow to the words QUESTARIAN SECURITY INC on the board.

"1977, I returned home and fought in the civil war, and was appointed Commander in Chief of North Mogamiland Special Air Service." He wrote 77-79 and an arrow to the words CIC, NMSAS on the board.

"1980, I helped form the Confederate Special Air Service." He wrote '80-81, CSAS, on the board.

"Yes, ouens, I've been around the world. I've killed Allaneans in San Nereiana. I've killed Doomanis on Paralentum." He stared at a collection of three particularly roman looking students at the front. He could tell that his guess was right. Glancing towards a particular student with a collection of tattoos "Mazara, too. In fact, myself and the Sniper School Instructor had a thing back on Paralentum." Baxter scowled flatly at someone about to snigger. "War, not sex, before you ask. I've killed kaffir communists in Karain and at home and Prestonoids in their home country." He loooked over towards a Karaini looking female Prestonian officer who's steely determination did not hide the offence. "I've killed every race and every religion in my time as a Merc," he paused.

"And maybe," looking at the three Doomani at the front, "I'll be killing more of you in the near future. Yes, I've done my fair share of killing people, and you have to be damn good to stay alive as long as I have. So I have been hired to impart some of my ... goodness" he chuckled "On to you young fuckers. All of you will probably see combat at some point. You'll probably be commanding troops in that combat, too. You might die. You might stay alive. You might be given a medal or you may be given a disciplinary, but you damn well won't forget these classes."

"One more thing. You can smoke, drink, and eat in my classes. But I expect that if you do and I tell you to stop it, you stop immediately. There's no "one more bite" or "one more drag" in the jungle, do you understand?"

A chorus of "Yes sir", some less, some more enthusiastic than others, rang out.

"Good. So let's begin." He turned another piece of paper over. "Can anyone tell me the first rule of warfare in jungle environments?"

An anxious looking recruit put her hand up. "Um, proper supply lines?"

"Wrong. You're dead." Baxter said flatly. "No. The first rule is -- and, in fact, of all warfare -- is that there are no fucking rules!" He wrote on the board NO RULES. "You," he said, pointing to a random officer, "Can you read?"

"Er... yes, Sir."

"Can your enemy read?"

"Presumably, Sir."

"Then don't you suppose that following a book that your enemy can read would lead to disaster?"

"Only if they read it, Sir."

"Hmph," Baxter snorted. "Why follow rules your enemy might be able to predict when you can be totally unpredictable? Any pattern can be observed. Any general rule can be realised. If your enemy is hunting you, you would have to be mad to do what they think you're going to do. On the other hand, sometimes brevity can win the day. Your opponent might ignore the possibility of you doing something so obvious. Alas, this is an issue of judgment, and I can't teach you judgment. That will be down to your individual skills as an officer. The first topic we'll be discussing, then, is Communication. How does one maintain Communications in a Jungle Environment?"

A Questarian student at the back shot his hand up. "Sir, the first priority should be that troops are trained down to the lowest possible level to act on their initiative and to have a system of priorities in orders."

"That's right..." Baxter nodded.

<To be continued>

[Scandavian States]

The first bell of the day signaled the beginning of classes for the Badb Catha Academy and students began filing into the lecture hall. The hall itself wasn't very remarkable, but there was the standard desk, what appeared to be a projector, flags of the participating nations hung from the ceiling, a large sand table, and shelving with scale models depicting Imperial Army vehicles and other equipment. Two Imperial officers stood in front of the desk, one a slight woman of Oriental ancestry dressed in the cream uniform of the Imperial Army and a man whose features and massive stature suggested that he was Nordic in the slate and green of the Imperial Marines. Once the rows were properly filled in and the students stood at attention next to their desk, the woman barked, "Seats!"

Once this was complied with she began, "Welcome. This is Introduction to Mechanized Warfare Theory, although you should all know that. I am General of the Army Hayashi Kameko and my adjutant is Brigade Commandant Morten Rasmussen. For your purposes we are 'Madam' or 'Sir'. Before we begin today's class I would like to address the expectations and rules that you will follow while you are in my classroom. First, I expect you to engage your brains, as there will be no textbooks for you to regurgitate from. Second, there is no requirement for you to take notes, although I recommend it unless you're that confident in your memory. Third, there will be no homework or papers to write, except as punishment for base stupidity or misbehavior. Fourth, there will be a test every week in the form of sand table exercises of increasing complexity and difficulty, which you must pass to continue on in this class; I will accept no excuses or do-overs, because Lord Murphy does not. Fifth, and most importantly, repeated misbehavior or stupidity will see you removed from the classroom and stricken from the rolls, please do not test me on this. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Madam!" Came the chorus from the students.

"Very well, let's begin. Assuming that logistics is taken care of, what is the first principle of mechanized warfare?"

Save for some students who were obviously nervous and hesitant, which the General took a mental note of, a sea of hands shot up. Looking around, she saw a particularly confident looking Questarian and pointed, "You!"

"Independence in formation command, Madam!"

"By which you mean intelligent initiative, correct?"

"Yes, Madam!"

Hayashi considered this for a moment before nodding, "That is a principle, yes. In truth, the question was something of a trick one, because failure to take heed of any principle is likely to result in the failure of your mission. Therefor, there is no precedence in principles, only the need to see to it that every one is covered to the best of your ability and resources. As an aside, while it is well that you are able to respond to a query intelligently, plain speaking in combat situations will avert confusion and thereby save the lives of the soldiers entrusted to your care and command, so I want you to get used to speaking as if you're in a combat situation. Clear?"

"Yes, Madam!"

"Very well," Hayashi hit a button on the projector and a 2D holograph displaying the numerous principles of mechanized combat popped up. What followed was a lecture covering the basics of those principles, with a short question and answer session after each principle was covered. Once the bell rang, Hayashi gave her parting comment, "We will be covering the principles in more depth this week and how their absence can effect combat. Friday will be a platoon-level sand table exercise, for which you will not be given the objective or conditions beforehand. Dismissed!"

[MassPwnage]

The recruits wondered why they were all out here at the crack of dawn, weighed down in full MILES and ruck gear. It was a cold day, with frost creeping over the meadow grass and they hadn't eaten breakfast.

They hadn't even had time to brush their teeth. The sergeants in charge of the barracks had simply pulled the selected cadets out of bed and dragged them out of bed, some of them literally. And so, filled with exhaustion and morning breath, they lined up on the meadow. There were more than 120 of them, all of them qualified infantry. They carried assault rifles, squad automatic weapons, medium machine guns, grenade launchers, designated marksman's weapons, even a few light mortars, everything that a normal infantry company would carry. Still, there was no instructor in sight, and the recruits began to wonder what was going on.

Then, one of the company's radios crackled to life. The message automatically broadcast itself to any of the helmet earpieces in range.

"Welcome to the marksmanship and fieldcraft portion of the Badb Catha Special Warfare Department, otherwise known as Sniper School." The voice was female and quiet, calm and without menance. "I am Colonel Kalabhne, your instructor."

The recruits wondered just what kind of course this was. There wasn't even an instructor present, just some voice on the radio.

"Ma'am, we don't know where you are", replied the cadet operating the radio, "If you could please show yourself, we can begin."

"Now why would I show myself? This is sniper school. If I made myself visible, it would defeat the purpose of this exercise. Anyway, you guys have half an hour to arrange yourselves into a cohesive infantry company before receiving further instructions."

The recruits all turned to look at one another.

On a wooded hilltop about a kilometer away, draped in a ghillie suit, Colonel Kalabhne watched through her binoculars and smiled. Half an hour wouldn't be enough to settle into a decently organized unit, but it would be enough for entertainment's sake. Next to the Colonel was another figure draped in a ghillie suit, watching the scene through a spotting scope.

"What do you thinK?" asked the second figure in the ghillie suit. Her voice, like Colonel Kalabhne's, was steady as a rock and cold as ice. It was just 20 or 30 years younger.

"I won't feel guilty about failing everyone in the course."

"Really now? Won't they take away your tenure?"

"Calm down Ellie, the only tenured instructor the school's administration threatened to fire so far is that Packard guy, and only because he wouldn't give his name or contact information to the students."

"Uh mom, what about my job? They can fire me if you decide that everyone fails."

"You're just a teaching assistant. They won't fire you for any decision that I make."

"But--"

"Ellie, we'll discuss this later."

"Fine, fine." Ellie pushed the spotting scope over to her mother's side and then rolled over and began to unwrap a soft rifle case. The disassembled HCR-40 heavy anti-personnel rifle had bits of straw and twigs already draped over it. Ellie slid the integrally suppressed barrel down into its sleeve and gave it a twist, locking it into place. She then slipped the SDSV-36 optic onto the rails on top and set up the bipod before loading a 5 round magazine of 10.5x78mm cased telescoping ammunition. They were blanks of course. The MILES adapter went over the muzzle.

Colonel Kalabhne put her binoculars away and switched to the spotting scope. The situation down there was setting up nicely.

"Oi, I ain't going to let a fuckin' wetback be in charge here!" The Questarian shoved the Candrian away from him rather violently. His mother had told him never to hit women, but that bitch wasn't a lady.

"You fucking gringo cocksucker, su pene tiene mas congrejos del mar." The Candrian went for something more lethal than a blank firing gun and came up with a front opening switchblade that she was going to stick in the Questarian's throat, had it not been for the Cravanian cadet that jumped in.

"Hey, hey, break it up, break it up. BREAK IT UP. How old are the two of you, six? For the love of fuck, we're in Sniper School, not kindergarten." The bulky Cravanian managed to separate the Questarian and Candrian for the time being. "Look, we, EVERYONE here in fact, are going to choose officers. We will do it by voting for them. Now's who's interested in becoming an officer?"

Back on the hill, Ellie watched the scene unfolding in the meadow with a bemused expression. "Do you think we should stop them?" she asked.

Colonel Kalabhne shook her head. "No. This is fun."

"Is this even necessary?"

"Are you really asking?"

"Now, who wishes to run for Captain?" asked the Cravanian to the group of assembled cadets. "Anyone?"

One of the other recruits, a Hamptonian, pointed out the obvious. "Well, you just put yourself in charge. Why don't you just appoint lieutenants?"

The Cravanian thought about the situation briefly. "Alright, fine then, as Captain, I'm appointing Vasquez, Arthur and Colston as platoon leaders", he pointed to the Candrian, Questarian and Hamptonian. Each you selects your own NCOs and squad organization." The situation wasn't optimal, they had wasted a lot of time arguing, and the half an hour was almost up. Just hurry the fuck up, will you? We've got 10 minutes.

"They're doing it, they're making squads. Different squad sizes though. You can see who's doing what."

"Ah...how nice." Colonel Kalabhne noted that the Cravanian would either go far in the military, or not get very far at all. The Candrian was one of those sociopaths that nearly every military liked to promote for aggression. Assuming her own men didn't commit an accidental offense that would result in her getting shot in the back of the head. The Questarian? Well, that was for the pluggies to decide (1).

"Five minutes."

"Right. Range to target, approximately 1015 meters. No adjustments for wind or bullet drop need to be made, you have a laser."

After 10 minutes, Colonel Kalabhne spoke into her headphones. "Alright kids. I hope you've made your squads. Your mission is to find and eliminate a sniper team that's somewhere in front of you, maps of the AO have been uploaded to your personal PDAs. You have access to a battery of medium mortars that can be called in by your platoon commanders, as well as any organic light mortars that can be dragged along. You get to go and eat when you capture me, when you all die or whenever I get bored. If you die, you must lie down and stay perfectly still. Anyone leaving the AO prematurely will be returned to unit. With that, I wish you all happy hunting."

As soon as Colonel Kalabhne had finished that sentence, Ellie fired the first round. The suppressed blank was so quiet, the sound that the rifle's bolt made as Ellie pulled it back was louder. It struck the Cravanian in the helmet dead center.

An annoyingly loud beep went off on the Cravanian's MILES vest. His gun's MILES system automatically shut down. He shrugged and lay down on his back.

"Whoa, where the fuck did that come from!?" shouted the Questarian as his MILES sensors went off too. Dead.

"Pop smoke, break for cover!" shouted Colston and Vasquez simultaneously as they ran towards the treeline.

Ellie fired a couple more times, destroying a radio and killing one of the RATELO operators.

Unfortunately in the confusion, some of the members of the company didn't pop smoke. Others ran the wrong way. Ellie reloaded. By this time, the company had already taken 10% casualties, and they were nowhere near the hill. Some of the light mortars had been abandoned in the meadow.

"Where the FUCK is that fire coming from?!", shouted Vasquez. "Get optics on that hill over there! Colston, take the other two platoons, flank the sniper team!"

"Not bad, the Candrian's a pretty good commander."

"Agreed. They got their DMRs watching the hill. No movement."

"Nice waste of my morning mom. Call in an artillery strike, it'll go faster that way."

"Will do."

Vasquez's squad moved forward, keeping both visual and thermal optics on the hill at all times. The fire had to be coming from that direction. She heard a ghastly shriek from small speakers hidden in the trees. Then her MILES vest went off with a beep. Dead. She heard the beeps from others around her too. Dead.

By now, the other platoons were running towards the hill as fast as possible, randomly spraying the hill with bursts of automatic gunfire. A couple of RATELOs hung back. and began calling for the company's 81mm mortar battery. The speakers in the trees behind Colonel Kalabhne and Ellie shrieked, but the mortar fire was missing. If they kept it up, the mortars would kill them both eventually. However, the recruits had already lost cohesion. The ditch they were partially dug into would shield them from fragments in the meantime.

By the time that they two platoons got to the hill, they began combing it. Every rock, every bush was checked. But it was clumsy.

So clumsy in fact, they didn't notice a couple of the bushes quietly slipping away.

After a while, as the sun came up, the platoon under Colston's command began to backtrack, searching the forest.

"Where the fuck are they!?" shouted one of the recruits. "I haven't had breakfast yet, this is fucked up."

"Don't have a clue mate, keep looking. They have to be here somewhere."

"Look at the AO, they could be anywhere within 4 square kilometers."

"Just keep looking, I don't want to get returned to unit."

It had been two hours, and by now, thanks to hunger, frustration and a lack of cohesion, the cadets were beginning to turn on each other.

"Look man, fuck this shit, I think we're being tricked. I ain't seen shit on optics or thermals. I say we turn around and go home." The Dakostani soldier kicked a clod of dirt and spat.

"That's a negative soldier. You aren't going anywhere until we find the sniper team." Another soldier, a slightly built Sumerian woman, motioned for the soldier to go back to searching.

"Bitch, who the fuck put you in charge?" snarled the Dakotastani.

"Colston put me in charge of this squad, and I say we keep looking." The Sumerian remained steady, her eyes unblinking.

"Yeah, well that greasy twinkie eating motherfucker can suck my dick."

"Soldier. Keep looking, that's an order."

"You ain't shit, I'm going back." The Dakotastani turned around and began heading back to the meadow. The Sumerian blocked him off.

"That was an order. Keep looking. Final warning."

"As I said, you ain't shit." The Dakotastani raised his arm to backhand this isolent little woman. The Sumerian sidestepped the blow, hooking the butt of her rifle into the Dakotastani's knee. As he fell forward, she drove her elbow into his throat. The Dakotastani fell back coughing, enough for the Sumerian to drive the heel of her boot into his crotch.

There were raspy screams of pain as the Dakotastani writhed on the ground in pain. The Sumerian hadn't put too much force in, but it was enough to cause serious pain.

Still, it was best to stop the exercise before someone got stabbed.

"Enough." The single word rang out in everyone's earpieces. About 30 meters away, two clumps of grass and dirt stood up. "Exercise is over." Everyone on my position within 10 minutes."

The personal displays of each soldier pointed out Colonel Kalabhne's position in the woods. She threw off her ghillie suit, and removed the baclava covering her head, revealing a black haired, middle aged woman with fierce blue eyes and alabaster skin covered in camouflaged greasepaint.

Ellie had her mother's eyes, but golden brown skin. Her hair was a mahogany brown and hung in long braids. The cadets saw the huge suppressed rifle in her hands.

Both women bore Ikari, the distinct tattoos of the Mazara, on their faces.

"First thing's first", began Colonel Kalabhne, "meet Captain Sophrona, your shooting instructor. Secondly, today's exercise was a temperament test. Being a sniper is not simply about long range precision marksmanship. It's about being able to psychologically handle stress and frustration. Several of you have shown me that you are unable to do so, that you are impulsive and arrogant. But others have shown solid judgement and the ability to think clearly."

The Dakotastani moaned in pain in response.

"Several of you I am going to return to unit immediately. Like this recruit here." Colonel Kalabhne delivered a swift kick to the Dakotastani's ribs. "You all have demonstrated obvious ineptidude and the improper temperament needed to serve as a sniper."

Maria Vasquez sighed and rolled her eyes. She was going to be returned back to her Boar's Barracks. However, she did not hear her name being called. The Questarian however, was sent back, mumbling something about wogs as he departed.

"One last thing, I don't like the whole rank system, so we're all going to be on a first name basis. I am Thian, Captain Sophrona is Eleutrhia, or Ellie if you can't remember that. There's a hot meal waiting for you all down at the cadet's mess and a shower waiting for you back in your barracks. Dismissed."

The recruits, including Maria turned to leave. But Maria felt a hand on her shoulder spin her around.

"Everyone except you."

"What is it ma'am?" asked Maria.

"You forget quickly. It's Thian. Secondly, there's a reason why I didn't return you to the general pool, despite the fact that you pulled a knife on another cadet."

"Why's that?"

"Because I think you have talent. You are a born killer. But I can't have impulsiveness. You, you are going to visit our great academy's psychiatric services wing for counseling. I believe your first appointment is at 3 p.m today."

"I wasn't aware that I made an appointment--"

Ellie smiled. "I called on your behalf about an hour ago."

~*~*~
(1): Pluggie: A slang term for Questarians, or their habit of chewing tobacco.

[Skibereen]

OOC: Any nation listed under Founding Nations(No Endorse) may post in any fashion they see fit---I wouldnt have put on the list if I didnt think you would add good content of any type, RP or otherwise.

[MassPwnage]

"Maria Vasquez?", the recptionist in the looked at the Candrian. The receptionist didn't like working for the academy's mental health services. There were a lot of people with PTSD, surly men and even surlier women who probably had slit their mother's throats for crack money in whatever shithole country they came from. The receptionist regretted quitting her last job at Kinko's.

Kinko's was much more fun, that nutty old Endorsian came in and made a bunker out of reams of copy paper.

Unfortunately, that nutty old Endorsian came by to visit every day.

"Sup bitch? What the fuck you lookin' at through your slanty eyes, fucking chink?" Maria seemed to have a permanent scowl.

"Umm...Doctor Onoda is...is ready to see you." The receptionist ducked behind the counter, fearing that Maria would pull out a gun and start shooting.

Maria sighed. "Ok, where the fuck do I go?"

"R-right behind that door." Kinko's was looking really good right now.

Maria entered the main door. There were several offices with nameplates besides the doors. Behind one of them was Dr. Maximilian Onoda.

Dr. Onoda was a fat Juuman man with a neckbeard and glasses too small for his large, round face. From the odor of whiskey on his breath, it was immediately apparently to Maria that he had been seeing a bartender for his alcoholism. The doctor did however, have the foresight to place any sharp or heavy objects outside of his office. Unfortunately, that meant that his bottle of whiskey was sitting in the refrigerator in the employees' lounge, too far out of reach.

Maria walked into the office.

"Take a seat." Dr. Onoda pulled up a chair and motioned for Maria to sit down as he lay on his divan, drinking from his hip flask. He had stolen some gin from a Questarian fellow named Baxter and had another large bottle of sparkling wine stolen from the Franberrians down at the school's Sommelier Academy. As soon as he drained the gin from his flask, he removed another flask from his shirt pocket and drained that in a single long gulp as well.

Maria stood defiantly, crossing her arms. "Man fuck you, you stupid fucking pendejo. I don't need to fucking talk to you, you fat, man-boobed, drunken piece of shit."

Dr. Onoda drained the second flask of gin and threw it onto his desk. His eyes narrowed. "You know, your friends were right for making fun of you when you told them your father molested you. Let me guess, it felt good, didn't it? Daddy's dick must have tasted so good..."

"DIE!" shrieked Maria as she pulled out the same front opening switchblade that she had tried using on the Questarian that morning.

For a fat alcoholic, the doctor was very agile. He parried the blade with his metal flask and then viciously backhanded Maria with enough force to send her flying into the door.

"See", continued the doctor as if nothing had happened, "you have anger issues and trauma you just can't bring yourself to deal with."

Maria's hand crept towards the doorknob.

"And you won't leave, because you hate me, you have nothing by contempt for me. You want to prove me wrong, you want to prove Colonel Kalabhne wrong, you want to prove the academy wrong. So you're going to stay. You're going to come by every Tuesday and Thursday at 3 p.m and go through every hurdle and every piece of bullshit that I feed you, because you really, really, really want to prove everyone wrong."

"Ok", sighed Maria, "look, just...just don't let anyone know. I don't want anyone in my Para (1) finding out that I'm seeing a fuckin' shrink alright?"

"There is of course a full non-disclosure agreement. Colonel Kalabhne has offered to explain your absences to your fellow cadets." Dr. Onoda took another long swig from his flask.

"Good. I still don't know why I'm doin' this fucking shit." Maria took a seat on the chair offered by the doctor, who remained reclined on his couch.

"Because Colonel Kalabhne says that you are impulsive and aggressive. One of the first things you did was you pulled a knife on me, which confirms my suspicions."

"That's only after you started talking shit about my papi."

Dr. Onoda smiled. "Now why do you keep defending him? Why do you keep defending your father?"

"Bitch, next time I come in here, I swear to god I'm going to fucking shoot you, I wasn't fuckin' molested!"

"I'm fairly convinced that you were. I'm not going to bore you with your lengthy social work file from before you joined the military Ms. Vasquez. You know what's in it." Dr. Onoda drained what was left of the second (or was it the third?) flask in a single long gulp.

"Done drinkin' for the day, Fat Man?"

"Guess so. You're free to leave." Damnit, why did he have to leave that bottle of whiskey in the fridge?

"Yeah, fuck you too." Maria got up and walked out of the office area. The receptionist let out of a small squeal of terror as she ducked behind the counter again.

The next morning, the meadow that had served as the rallying point for the company level exercises had been turned into a firing range. There were shallow pits dug into the grass. However, the students of Badb Catha sniper school had only binoculars that day. There was a large armored car parked behind the firing line. Nobody knew what was inside it, just that it was painted jet black and held something.

Ellie addressed the assembled group of cadets.

"The process of taking another human's life is not an easy one. Taking life as a sniper is even more difficult. You must view your target through the scope, you must empathize with the target. You must think like the target, and in order to do that, the target must become a thinking, feeling human being in your mind. It goes saying that taking the life of someone with hopes, fears and dreams is infinitely more difficult than simply saturating an area with artillery. It is the psychological process of hunting and killing another human being that sets the sniper apart from the common foot soldier or artillerist. But when it comes time to pull the trigger, all you must feel after the shot is taken is recoil. Take up your positions at the firing line."

The sniper recruits scattered and moved into position.

Ellie took a deep breath and removed her HCR-40 from the soft case. She loaded a single 10.5x78mm cased telescoping cartridge into the chamber, then set up the bipod and placed the weapon onto the ground.

"Place your headsets into positions." The order came from the speaker system installed behind the firing line.

Ellie touched her fingers to her throat, activating her radio. "Alright, now that you are all settled, I will inform you of today's exercise."

The doors of the armored car opened, and two burly Doomani MPs were escorting a naked, shaven headed man up to the firing line. The doors of the armored car slammed shut before any of the students could see what else was in there.

"What you are about to see may be disturbing. However, you are required to bear witness to the entire exercise as best as possible. Any recruit that fails to do so will be returned to unit."

The Doomani MPs unlocked the prisoner's shackles and shoved him forward. The prisoner ran as quickly as possible towards the treeline, zigzagging repeatedly. He knew that there was only one person with a rifle on the firing line. He knew that he would be granted amnesty and repatriated if he got to the treeline. Other prisoners who had completed similar challenges had already been released.

What he didn't know was that Ellie was not in fact a trainee. The Doomani MPs had informed the prisoner that Ellie was a trainee sniper.

captain Eleuthria Sophia Sophrona, daughter of Colonel Thian Kalabhne and Legatus Tiberius Semperus Sophronus had been shooting before she could walk. As a Naval VESEC sniper, she had countless kills of high value targets under her belt.

The prisoner ran as fast as he could, his arms and flanks heaving with the effort.

Ellie put the crosshairs right over the prisoner's medulla oblangata. A hit there and the massive bullet would sever the prisoner's head from his neck.

But that wasn't the purpose of the exercise. Ellie shifted her crosshairs lower and fired. The only noise from the suppressed weapon was the bullet breaking the sound barrier. The 428 grain round moving at 1,150 meters per second blew the prisoner's left leg off at the knee with a shower of blood and bone splinters, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Even at 450 meters away, the recruits could hear the prisoner's shrieks of agony as he clutched the stump of his leg.

Ellie touched her fingers to her throat again, "keep your eyes on the target until you can confirm that he's dead."

Some of the recruits were already getting up and moving away from the firing line. Some of them walked, others ran. Others were probably still transfixed in shock. Finally, as the prisoner finished bleeding to death, Ellie felt it safe to speak again.

"That prisoner was recently captured from Grand World Order. The reason for conducting that test was so you could witness first hand the potentially disturbing nature of your work. In the field, no matter how hard you train, not all of your shots will hit on the mark. The results of those shots, as well as the results of any shots, must be observed."

There were murmurs from the assembled crowd.

"I understand that some of you gathered here come from cultures that do not believe in the killing of prisoners of war, especially not without a trial. Some of you come from nations that have abolished capital punishment altogether. If you wish to be excused from the next exercise, I fully understand. However, it is important that those who are excused from participation must still remain and observe. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, feel free to return yourselves to your original unit. The rest of you, leave the firing line and move towards the weapons retrieval area."

Only a few of the recruits, mostly Mazara, Doomani, Kravenite or Freekish, moved back towards the tables and gun racks that had been set up. They were issued old, well worn bolt action service rifles.

What stood out amongst the shooters was Maria Vasquez. Andrew MacKenzie, the self appointed field captain from yesterday's exercise had excused himself, as did Jonathan Colston, the Hamptonian recruit.

At this moment, several truckfuls of prisoners arrived. All of them were naked, shaven headed males. All of them had been told that they were to be granted amnesty and repatriated if they managed to get to the treeline.

"The basic point of this exercise is to shoot the moving targets. I am looking at your positioning and manipulation of the bolt during the shooting process. I expect that all of you know how to operate a bolt action rifle, this gives me a good baseline on where to start."

The prisoners for the most part were gunned down by several volleys of accurate rifle fire before they could make it to the treeline.

One of them however, made it to the treeline. But he kept on running, screaming at the top of his lungs as he did.

Ah the ravages of madness. How quaint. Somebody would eventually find that guy.

[Questers]

The last Questarian remaining in the sniper school threw his hat to the ground in disgust. "What are you going to do next, ask us to eat them, huh?" He lit a cigarette and flicked the match to the ground. "Fucking Barbarians," he shook his head and walked back to his unit. Class itself for the time was over and one of the mess halls; number one, in fact, had been partially annexed by Questarians, who had taken one corner of the room and a significantly more chairs and tables than they actually needed. There were almost two dozen Questarian cadets taking part in various programmes, most of them junior officers. The younger ones tended to stick together and as this paticular cadet, Jackson, arrived, the look of disgust on his face gave it all away.

"Howzit?" his friend asked while tapping a cigarette. "You don't look so good."

"The sniper instructor is a fucking psycho!"

"Fucking kaffirs," Arthur, the recruit previously kicked from her course sniggered, who was lying down with his hat over his face.

"Oh?"

"They took this prisoner or something, set him free, and then shot him in the leg in cold blood. If we didn't watch it we were kicked off the course. A whole bunch of people just walked out. I think they are out there shooting people now... in cold blood!"

Of course, Questarians are used to death, especially rural Questarians. They're used to seeing it all the time, hearing about it, even smelling it. But the Questarian notion of life and death is a civilised one. It is good vs bad. Killing the bad guys is delivering justice. Fulfilling a moral duty. Innocent death is something to be mourned, to be disgusted by, and above all, to defend against. Combined with a somewhat chivalrous code of honour which involves the mantras of not shooting an enemy with his back turned and not shooting defenceless men. The moral ambiguity and sheer barbarity of gunning down defenceless men, who's guilt nobody who hailed from a free country could be sure of, was rather too much.

Clearly the Questarians were not the only ones to disagree.

[Havenite Hivemind]

.

[Franberry]

"How barbarian," exclaimed the Franberrian cadet that had stood by and witnessed the massacre. "I understand that in your primitive society in kwambajumbaland you don't even have the concept of judicial process and human rights to violate, but this is really too much." And so he turned and left to pursue a proper activity that would differentiate him from the barbarians, an activity such as reading, he was sure they didn't have that in paloulaolulauolandia or whatever it was.

[Brydog]

To: Babd Catha International Military Academy and Graduate University
From: The Federal Department of Defense, Liberal Democratic Republic of Wolfenhalle

Dear Sir or Madam,

The Federal Department of Defense wishes to send a group of 50 officers and enlisted to your academy to study and learn how international forces operate. Some of these troops are veterans of the Yassian Civil Wars, and have experience in unconventional warfare. Also, we note there is not classes on Military law and order and such, and offer to teach such a class.

Signed,
Wolfgang J. Lichtenburg
Federal Secretary of Defense

[Platinea]

To the Dean of Admissions, Badb Catha International Military Academy -

With the passage of Act 36-1-15, the Fuerzas Armadas Platanos now renew one of our oldest traditions - sending promising cadets overseas to study in foreign military academies and bring their knowledge home for our benefit. We hereby apply to annually send to Badb Catha 210 cadets, split evenly between the Ejército Platano and the Armada Platano, for undergraduate studies, and 50 officers (35 from the Ejército, 15 from the Armada), for graduate and post-graduate studies.

Furthermore, provided that you accept our application, we request permission for a film crew to record the experiences of the first class of Platano cadets at Badb Catha for a documentary. How willing would the academy be to cooperate in the production of this documentary?

Finally, we wish to offer that lecturers from the Universidad Militar Platano serve as visiting scholars; in particular, we feel that the UMP's history department, with its particular focus on the spread of military knowledge and practices, would be able to contribute to the development of cadets at Badb Catha as scholars as well as soldiers.

Sincerely,
Alberto Serrano, Minister of Defense, Republic of Platinea

[Skibereen]

To the Dean of Admissions, Badb Catha International Military Academy -

With the passage of Act 36-1-15, the Fuerzas Armadas Platanos now renew one of our oldest traditions - sending promising cadets overseas to study in foreign military academies and bring their knowledge home for our benefit. We hereby apply to annually send to Badb Catha 210 cadets, split evenly between the Ejército Platano and the Armada Platano, for undergraduate studies, and 50 officers (35 from the Ejército, 15 from the Armada), for graduate and post-graduate studies.

Furthermore, provided that you accept our application, we request permission for a film crew to record the experiences of the first class of Platano cadets at Badb Catha for a documentary. How willing would the academy be to cooperate in the production of this documentary?

Finally, we wish to offer that lecturers from the Universidad Militar Platano serve as visiting scholars; in particular, we feel that the UMP's history department, with its particular focus on the spread of military knowledge and practices, would be able to contribute to the development of cadets at Badb Catha as scholars as well as soldiers.

Sincerely,
Alberto Serrano, Minister of Defense, Republic of Platinea

To the Offices of the Ministry of Defense, attn: Alberto Serrano, Republic of Platinea

We would be most happy to accept cadets for training purposes, and officers for post graduate studies.
As well upon a strict evaluation of curriculum standards would allow lecturers from your esteemed university.

However with regards to the matter of filming in the Academy;
Given the sensitive nature of the training, the desire to limit access to the knowledge pool, and the fact that nations do indeed send operators who require a certain level of security--we must decline to allow such things as filming.

Offices of Admission Badb Catha International Military Academy

[Skibereen]

To: Babd Catha International Military Academy and Graduate University
From: The Federal Department of Defense, Liberal Democratic Republic of Wolfenhalle

Dear Sir or Madam,

The Federal Department of Defense wishes to send a group of 50 officers and enlisted to your academy to study and learn how international forces operate. Some of these troops are veterans of the Yassian Civil Wars, and have experience in unconventional warfare. Also, we note there is not classes on Military law and order and such, and offer to teach such a class.

Signed,
Wolfgang J. Lichtenburg
Federal Secretary of Defense

To the Offices of the Secretary of Defense, attn Wolfgang J. Lichtenberg

We welcome the personnel from the Liberal Democratic Republic of Wolfenhalle.
Classes have not begun for Military Law Theory as yet however we again welcome lecturers from your esteemed nation.

[Skibereen]

Col. Michael watched the Sniper school first open class.
He observed the rapid deterioration of the situation.

Col. Michael wasnt his real name, it was his rank. For security purposes he was not disposed to teach under his real name.

He had been tasked to observe the mixed classes--the Academy itself had taken its name from him.

"Anthony, the cadets that have refused instruction in this class--directly because of this exercise. I want you to muster them for me tomorrow morning for a new class. Let them know the live fire exercises will not be quite so extreme, but also make certain they understand my expectations are going to be high.
high enough they may have wished they just plugged one of these bastards and dealt with it."

A young man in plain IFAF battledress nodded, he had a slight smerk on his round face.

"Will do, Michael."


Col. Michael then approached the Instructor for the on going class.
"Looks like a few of the students here are having some trouble with the materials at hand."
Michael was a short man by Skibereen standards, he was lean and the growth on his shaved head reveal more grey then black. His eyes were crisp and clear green, with permanent creases.
The he bore a clannish tattoo that some of the soldiers visiting had grown accustom to seeing in the military men...a black strip around the circumference of the head right across the eyes, it was noted by some that the wider the strip the greater its significance. Col. Michael bore that tattoo and it was a wider mark then any one was likely to find on the island, from the bottom of his nose to above his eye brows, he wore a permanent mask. One might even hear the occasional joke that if stayed active much longer his head would be black.

"As you know there are going to be multiple classes teaching the same subjects running. I am going to opening the next class tomorrow, I just wanted to say right here and right now that this isnt an indication that we intend to stop your class. The methods may be disagreeable to some, even to myself...but I am not so blinded by my own personal sensibilities that I dont see the purpose here.
I think it serves well that these men and women know death is a real facet of what we do as a profession and that not all of us share the same opinions on conduct. A little sobering reality is good.
Carry on, I apologize for the disturbance."

[Hamilay]

To: Dean of Admissions, Babd Catha International Military Academy

The Federal Republic of Hamilay is interested in sending Hamilayan officer trainees to your institution. You will find enclosed our application for 10 selected officer cadets and 4 commissioned officers for the current year, and we hope to continue sending this or a greater number of trainees in the coming years if this venture is successful and mutually acceptable. Considering the insular nature of Hamilayan military experience and education and the high esteem in which we hold your academy and its participating nations, we would be most pleased to participate.

Furthermore, a number of teaching staff at the Beferen National Military-Medical Academy have expressed interest in guest teaching positions either in undergraduate programs or in your graduate program for the training of medical professionals. Until our application and processing of undergraduate students to your institution is finalised we feel it would be prudent to delay this, but they would be available to teach such topics as the basic medical sciences, battlefield medicine and biological-chemical warfare and defence.

Regards
Ministry of Defence
Federal Republic of Hamilay
The Hon. Edward Ritter, Minister for Defence

[Northern Rangeria]

(OOC: Interesting. Tagged for a near-future IC post)

[Alexiandra]

Hello sir. We in Alexiandra would like to send (if needed) 20 of our finest elite special ops veterans, to teach at this academy.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

The prisoners for the most part were gunned down by several volleys of accurate rifle fire before they could make it to the treeline.

One of them however, made it to the treeline. But he kept on running, screaming at the top of his lungs as he did.

Ah the ravages of madness. How quaint. Somebody would eventually find that guy.

Lt Bradly took careful aim, waited for the prisioner to stop moving and take a breath. And fired.

Treeline or not, he was a threat to the people.

"How barbarian," exclaimed the Franberrian cadet that had stood by and witnessed the massacre. "I understand that in your primitive society in kwambajumbaland you don't even have the concept of judicial process and human rights to violate, but this is really too much."

Bradly scoffed as he awaited a bereting for acting against the promise given to the prisioner.

In the meantime, he'd watch the treeline. The compound was fenced to the best of his knowledge, he'd have to come back.