NATION

PASSWORD

The Green Flag rises (IC/CLOSED)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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New Aeyariss
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The Green Flag rises (IC/CLOSED)

Postby New Aeyariss » Mon Dec 19, 2016 12:47 am

Image


The neon lights of the city state, usually of red and pink color symbolizing moral decay this city found itself in, shined like Christmas lights as they contrasted with the dark sky. Kesslerstaadt - also known as New Sodom by it's inhabitants - was, without joking, most sexually loose city in the world, where all sort of moral restraints disappeared long ago. Founded by a cult that was forced to flee from Europe long ago, took it's seat here and remained to this day, with roughly half of the population still involved in the cult's practices. Having enormous amount of influence in politics and culture, the cult worshiped an idol known as Balcom, whom they claimed gave humans enlightenment in the garden of Eden, believing that God of Abraham is "the evil and lesser god" to the one whom they worshiped. To celebrate him they built almost one kilometer tall skyscraper - just recently completed - housing officers, supermarkets, hotels, the cult's temples - nothing would be strange about it if not the fact that it resembled tower of babel. On the top of almost kilometer tall tower, strange rituals often involving abusive acts were performed to celebrate the minor avatar of Balesh (as the cult borrowed a lot from local Hinduism also ) - the Lukayesh, the avatar of the angel of the sun.

On the top of the tower was an apartment owned by a multi - billionaire. His name was Amihan Russell, a very influential local banker that owned an enormous bank known as Russel Financial, giving enormous loans to multiple large companies and thus, building a powerful network of his own. One of his doings was also Amihan Foundation for Development of Freedom, Democracy and Progress (AFDFDP) which financed an enormous amount left wing, and socially progressive movements across the world. Very few people known that this man was once high ranked chief of Asignese Kahaliman network, creating proxies for the Bayan all over Southern Furukuran sea; and personally great fan of Erin Terten's ideology and worshiper of his "Holy Truth". But that was no more; left on his own with his networks, Amihan Russel went to create his own army, to realize his own very dream of unified world without borders. However, being the good strategist, Russel knew that there was no chance to realize his goals outright. Global revolution which he planned was to be created from multiple spheres, where he will at first make himself strong, then gradually encircle the forces of his foes using those areas as bases. With only very few top people in various violent non-state actors he sponsored and created knowing whom they are really working for - and most not even aware what is his real name - Russel was going to make the world in the information age first truly united global society.

Few of those who did business with him today knew that the man who now owns largest bank in this region... once earned his first million by robbing banks as member of Nihonese Red Army. Yet strict maoist rules of the Nihonese red army annoyed him. Amihan was a follower of Plato, and desired something far more spiritual than just empty historical dialectic Marx proposed him... but when this dialectic became part of what first the Balconim religion gave him - and, when he realized that most of it's followers are effeminate and can't do a thing for progress, Erin Terten's teachings that took the spiritual void - it became a lethal mix for a 53 years old man who long ago realized that he can break the banks more effectively using the banks themselves rather by guns and bombs. But even Terten failed him again and again. That was the moment when Russel realized that in order to have his dream succeed, he can no longer rely on others, but assume the role of leader himself - become like a god to his followers and lead them to victory.

Standing in his apartment and watching the skyline at night, the short fat man exhibiting both Asian and European features turned around, revealing his short blonde hair, right eye gouged out and his right hand gone (an old memento from being shot during a bank robbery). Then, a single call from his security caught his attention.

"Mr Amihan" spoke the security guard "Walther Siemens is here to see you!"

"Let him in!" spoke the happy banker and after a short period of waiting said person entered the apartment. Walther was tall, well built man in his 50s - scars on his cheek revealed that he was a mercenary with experience in multiple conflicts, now hired by another mercenary, Paul Denard, to assist him in running military operations for Russel's network. Short ginger hair covered his big, round head, and a pair of dark green eyes looked from beneath, lustrating every area of the room.

"Welcome Mr. Russel" smiled the mercenary, shaking his hand with the banker. Indeed, the was happy at prospect of making more money. Unlike Denard, who was hell bent on worship of Balcom, Siemens cared only for the money and could not care less about LGBT liberation or destruction of environment "I take that your interests are going well?"

"Indeed they do" spoke the banker with confidence in his voice "I am relocating tomorrow, and then I plan on meeting with Nathan Redshield to discuss investments soon after. But that is not the reason why I called you here. Do you know why the globalization even happened in first place? What area of the Earth facilitated it?"

"The oceans..." Walther maybe had a though look, but was certainly not stupid. On the contrary, under his short ginger hair hid enormous amount of intelligence and cunning ness.

"Indeed" smiled Amihan, looking into the eyes of his lieutenant "First wave of globalization was created by British Empire. It is why we are now speaking in English. Other powers caused their own globalization as well. The Golden Throne in Dienstad... what is it if not an union of nations? And Nifon, now resurgent, no matter how much it fights Western Enlightenment, globalizes fascism..."

"Just pay me enough and I will make Kojiro pain in the a**" Siemens could not expel the thought of fighting from his head. Nifonese Tenshinhei would certainly be a considerable foe.

"Indeed you will have the chance... Because I want you to do something. Let us say that recent activity of eco - pirates in Babar Islands presents more than enough opportunities for our goal..."

"Why?" asked surprised mercenary "What do you intend to gain?"

"It is simple" smiled Amihan, about to explain details of his plan "The third wave is upon us, and the information age is making it's steps heard. Alvin Toffler predicted the changes in the global society happening right now. And thus, when we do realize that nation-state is an obsolete institution unable to solve the global problems, our action must be swift and efficient. We shall not begin with detonating the strongest nation-states such as Nifon. Nifon is a monolith. Riysa... that would be hard to detonate as well. But weak, third world counties where countless ethnicities and religions rival each other and where minorities cry for liberation... they shall be our bases. What we need is to create chaos, my friend. The more pirates damage one of most crucial sea lanes of communication, the more chaos will grow. And once the stability is broken, we can slowly begin to form order - out of chaos."

"I see..." smiled the mercenary in admiration for plan of his employer.

"The key to understanding asymmetric war is that recent geopolitical changes given non state actors chances to wage war against the state regimes" the banker continued "Which given us perfect tool for bringing the states apart. Once we secured weakest links in the global system - areas such as Babar Islands - we will use them to begin a thrust against the more developed counties. Seen Kirishima? It is a perfect place for causing a race war. The Golden Throne is already under siege, with Homofront cells activated to cause diversion. On Nifon we have the buddhist terror. Riysa will soon witness a new form of Islam. A new global war is about to begin, and it will end only when the planetary federation is established!"

"So let me guess it: you want me to meet the eco-pirates and recruit them for our cause..." Siemens could not be bothered by dreams of his employer, but still wanted his fair share of money the billionare could have provided him with.

"Yes." he smiled "Go now. This situation presents a great opportunity to our cause. A chance we can not waste..."

And thus Walther Siemens left the office of his employer and headed downtown, to plan a trip to Babar Islands. Meanwhile the storm was already beginning to gather, with ecopirate attacks escalating. An useful tool... for Amihan Russel's global crusade...
Rping in MT (2023) and PT/FanT (1564)


Inyourfaceistan wrote:You didn't know that Cusc is actually a 4-armed cyborg genius commander and skillful warrior created in secret by a cabal of rich capitalist financiers built to lead and army of drones and other renegades against and overbearing socialist regime?
Psalms 144:1 wrote:Blessed be the LORD my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight.
Also known as El Cuscatlan, Jesus will offer you eternal life if you believe in him!


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Organized States
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Ex-Nation

Postby Organized States » Tue Dec 20, 2016 4:47 am

OSS Daniel Inouye DDG-118
112 Nautical Miles off of the Coast of the Sunda Republic


OSS Daniel Inouye swayed gently back and forth as it steamed forward through the waters of the Babar Islands. Commander Sarah Conderman looked out over the bow of her ship from the bridge, her pride and joy in this world. A woman of short stature, she more than made up for her height in her ability to command respect.

"Helm, come starboard two-zero degrees." she ordered to the helmsman, a Petty Officer Second Class from the Combat Information Center, who had just about zero experience on water before the Navy. Conderman even doubted the young man's ability to swim sometimes.

"Aye, aye ma'am. Starboard two-zero degrees." He repeated the orders in both confirmation and acknowledgement as he turned the ship's wheel to follow the order.

As planned, Conderman watched the ship submit itself to her instructions to the Helmsman, with the vessel banking slowly towards its starboard side. Suddenly, the bridge direct line to the CIC began to ring, with the Deck Officer, a Lieutenant, quickly moving to answer it. The expression on his face soon set the tone.

"Ma'am, CIC's reporting two surface contacts, bearing Zero-Two-Zero and closing fast currently twenty-five miles out. Appears like two fast boats." said the Deck Officer, hurriedly repeating from the phone.

Conderman's mind quickly shifted into action, getting up rapidly from her seat. "Sound General Quarters. Up and to Port Side. Tell the Com Deck to prepare to warn the oncoming vessels and report position to PACOM." She ordered, quickly grabbing a helmet and ballistic vest to wear over her blue Navy Working Uniforms from one of the Enlisted Men rushing from the storeroom with it. In these tension-racked and pirate-infested waters, she wasn't taking any chances.

"Aye, aye ma'am." The Deck Officer replied. "Bosun, sound general quarters. Possible Surface Contacts." He ordered the Bosun, a Petty Officer 3rd Class, who quickly grabbed the 1MC, the shipboard public address system.

"General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands to Battle Stations. Traffic is up and to the Port side. Down is to the starboard and aft-side. Prepare for Possible surface contacts." The bosun spoke over the sound of alarms throughout the ship, immediately sending all hands aboard the ship into action. Instantly, across the ship hatches were battened down to prevent any possibility of water coming aboard, with the ship's embarked MH-60R being pulled into the rear hanger of the vessel. The Combat Information Center buzzed with activity as the sonar and additional radars came online, greatly increasing the tracking and combat power of the ship. Sailors manning the CIWS, Vertical Launch System, and Mark 45 5" gun and the all-important countermeasure systems all found themselves with increased attention as the surface contacts closed in at a blistering 25 knots.

"Ma'am, Damage Control, Engineering, and CIC standing by." The Deck Officer stated.

"Acknowledged. Let's see who these assholes are." Conderman replied as she peered through the binoculars from her bridge, scanning toward her starboard side.
Thank God for OS!- Deian
"In the old days, the navigators used magic to make themselves strong, but now, nothing; they just pray. Before they leave and at sea, they pray. But I, I make myself strong by thinking—just by thinking! I make myself strong because I despise cowardice. Too many men are afraid of the sea. But I am a navigator."-Mau Piailug
"I regret that I have only one life to give to my island." -Ricardo Bordallo, 2nd Governor of Guam
"Both are voyages of exploration. Hōkūle‘a is in the past, Columbia is in the future." -Colonel Charles L. Veach, USAF, Astronaut and Navigation Enthusiast

Pacific Islander-American (proud member of the 0.5%), Officer to be

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Conriston
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Founded: Nov 28, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Conriston » Tue Dec 20, 2016 6:02 pm

Chester House, Marrowbeach, Conriston

    He was never fond of foreign affairs, the president. The hassle of communication, the stress, dealing with diplomats and all that sort of stuff. Domestic was always his specialty until last year, when he was forced to derail his focus from domestic to foreign. That event was the attack on the Foreign Affairs Department building. Not only did it affect the lives of the 16 victims, it also affected his presidency. No longer could he champion the ideas he wished, now he had to be a parrot of the people who wished for blood. No matter the raids he did on terrorists, the increased security, or the higher involvement with foreign nations, the number of people who wanted to be more globally involved kept. And that is how he got here, sitting at his desk with a clump of papers plopped on his desk by his Foreign Affairs Secretary, Beauregard Platt, about some far off island chain that is under some sort of crisis, and if handled correctly, it could reap rewards. The usual.

    "President O'Conner, let me be the first to tell you about the Babar Island Chain-" said the secretary, shuffling through other papers, before being interrupted.

    "Mr. Secretary, why are you informing me of a place I never heard of?" Questioned the President, reading one of the documents that were brought in.

    The secretary walked over to a globe, spun it around and, as if by magic, landed on the Islands. He then began, "Do you even use this thing? Anyways, moving on. To tell you more, there is a struggle for power happening on the island. As far as my knowledge, there are six recognized nations there, but we care only about three. THe Damar Sultanate, the Sunda Republic, and the most important out of all of them, the Republic of Alor Island. Why are they important? They are the richest nation there, and they are a democracy, as far as we know-''

    ''STOP. I know where you're heading with this, and we are not supporting a nation that is not democratic or not confirmed." The President interrupted, extremely concerned.

    "You didn't let me finish. As far as we know according our intelligence. Reliable, right? Anyways, if there is no more interruptions, I will continue. Anyways, back on Alor, they are also very similar in demographics, race-wise. THe only downside is that they are very environmental, and probably allow pirates to use their land as a base, but that's why we negotiate, right?" The Secretary finished and took a seat on one of the two antique couches that sat opposed to each other in front of the fire place in the Presidential office.

    O'Conner, leaned back in his seat and considered opening communications with this nations. It seemed opportune in an objective sense. I mean, it was wealthy, so it could support a war against the other nations, it was democratic, so the citizenry would not oppose helping them, and finally they were racially similar. There were cons, however. The extreme environmentalism, which could easily set off many people around the nation. The alleged support for pirates would be contreviersial, but it can be managed or simply just forgotten. He pondered a little more, then he stood up straight up in his seat, and said in a hushed tone, "Prepare for communications."

    "Yes, Mr. President." said Secretary Platt, who then gathered his papers and left through one of the two doors, and for as far as President O'Conner knew, probably to the new Foreign Affairs Building, as the man never slept.
***
Last edited by Conriston on Mon Dec 26, 2016 2:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Redshield Foundation
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Founded: Dec 13, 2016
Ex-Nation

Postby Redshield Foundation » Wed Dec 21, 2016 4:21 pm

Shekyll Island, off the coast of Southern Pridusia, location of the International Committee for Sustainable Development


Sitting down near his fireplace was a short aging man with semitic features, he was sipping wine near a fireplace, decorated above the fireplace a stuffed head of a Goat. He crossed his legs almost androgynous like a woman, and motioned toward his body guard in an almost effeminate manner, "Adrian, please inform me when James arrives."


Adrian winked and said "Yes master Redshield."

Nathan Redshield took great interest in the in ongoing wars in the Babar islands, the decline of the state provided a reasonable climate that would contribute greatly to his profits that would further financing of his goals for a one world order. He viewed humans as if they were his pawns in a game, Nathan Redshield dreamed of an open society a world without borders, unified by a single world religion, and a single world language. A dream shared by his father before him David Shyer Redshield who once claimed that no longer who was in power as long as he was in control of a nation's banking system then it did not matter the ruler, because any law the Redshield's disliked could easily be ended by destroying the nation's economy, buying off the leader, or paying someone to kill him, which usually was not needed as in Pridusia where half of the upper class were compromised pedophiles, drug users, or involved in some form of criminal activity.

Nathan was strong believer in a united world, but in his mind humanity had to be maintained in a population under 500,000,000 in perpetual balance with nature. Population control was his goal, he could not stand by while enormous mount of people simply raped the earth's resources unregulated and lived uncontrolled from a central figure. Nathan was a firm believer in population control and his end goal was to be a cashless technocratic resource based economy where all men lived unbound by religion or property and would be guided into a wiser new age.

Nathan himself was a generational worshiper of Balcom but from a sect that did not leave Europe but rather hid itself and disguised itself and gradually infiltrated the highest influences of power, rituals were hidden, books were hidden, they often relied on oral tradition at times, as everything was hidden, rituals were bloody, these things had to be private matters that no one could easily detect publicly. His family practiced the worship of Balcom since the year of 1666, by the year 1770 his family had become one of the wealthiest in all of Europe.

Nathan's new plans involved teaming up with a like-minded man Amihan Russell a man who was known to those who could afford to know was once the head of the Asignese Kahaliman network, exactly what Nathan needed for his plans of global unease, but more importantly these plans could not get into full synergy until Nathan and Amihan met, a plan was boiling in the pot, a plan to set the world aflame.

A sound could be hard, landing on the helicopter pad was a Kondor Multirole Helicopter painted black and designed for black operations. Walking out was middle aged man, James Redshield, Nathan's younger brother. He opened the door after passing through the gates with guard's approval and stepped into the room where Nathan was sipping his wine.

Nathan looked at James and smiled "My brother, I see you have returned, of your exploits on our little base?"

James smirked and said "We have been wasting time, the VX nerve agent is in full-production in both liquid and gas forms and we at this time have not found a single viable militia, mercenary group, or terrorist organization in that wishes to buy it off us."

to which James then said "the Jihadists did not trust our dealer and were forced to decline our offer."

Nathan was surprised and then said upon giving a wicked yet gleeful smile "Well I have an old friend in mind, who may be willing to provide someone to test our recently acquired nerve agent for us!"

James replied "Who is that?"

Nathan said "You will meet him soon, he is arriving here, we will coordinate our plans with him."
Last edited by Redshield Foundation on Wed Dec 21, 2016 5:24 pm, edited 3 times in total.

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Shaochun
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Ex-Nation

Postby Shaochun » Thu Dec 22, 2016 11:09 am

Near the OSS Daniel Inouye
Seas of Sunda


As the first two skiffs zoomed fast through the water towards the target, the bulk of the pirates waited for report of their forward scouts, who were ordered to report back to the other group about what they perceived to be an easy prey manifested in form of a tanker. Yet, darkness and chaotic conditions of the local environment caused them to commit a mistake that would cost them dearly later on. Pirate crew armed with RPGs and Type 56 assault rifles rode in several fast boats, lightly armed compared to firepower various regional actors possessed. After all, they were only a scouting unit, sent to target a civilian vessel. Militiaman Zheng Feng sat on one of the skiffs, clutching the RPG-7 tightly. "We're going to bring this ship down to the ground!" exclaimed another of his comrades enthusiastically. "Yes we are!" replied Zheng Feng with joy in his voice as the two skiffs neared the ship. Just as Zheng was about to call the order for the other ships and boats to move in, it was then they realized this wasn't a simple whaling ship but rather a fully armed warship of yet unknown naval force patrolling the region. "Shit! Shoot them, shoot them!" shouted Zheng, unleashing an RPG round directly at the hostile vessel. The two skiffs zoomed at full speed while zig-zagging to attempt to avoid cannonfire from the misidentified OSS Daniel Inouye.

Zheng was a Shaochunese from Sunda who decided to join a local Eco-pirate group that happened to be dominated by others of his kin operating in the region, attacking tankers and whaling ships unlucky enough to be within their reach. Feng was not the only one - he joined the ranks of the pirates along with his brother who was killed not long after they both claimed their first ship. This made sole remaining sibling rather sad, as his motivation was commercial rather than ideological; after all, the oceans were empty of fish, and he had somehow to keep bellies of his five children full, especially when living in harsh conditions of a town of Shaochunese expatriates. His brother's death hadn't, however, been wasted - thanks to it Zheng met Captain Lu Yimu, who offered him long career in his crew, which Feng eagerly accepted, becoming part of the scourge of the seas.

Within seconds the pirate crews unloaded RPG-7s and other small arms fire in the general direction of the cannons, even firing AK-mounted grenade launchers in attempt to suppress eventual MG fire. "It's a military ship!" shouted Zheng into the radio, as gunfire raged all around, announcing that the battle has begun. On the other side, meanwhile, Captain Lu Yimu was quick to react, knowing that his underlings were now fully engaged. They could run, though if they somehow managed to incapacitate it, they could just be able to bring it down, and quickly sped to assist Zheng and his crews in fighting the ship...

Lu slowly spread his map to see how many pirate forces he will be able to gather to aid another of his crew...

ORBAT:

- 2 modified skiffs filled with pirates (various weaponry, RPGs, AKs)
- Single pirate mother ship waiting in the distance
- Incoming reinforcements from captain Lu
CELESTIAL EMPIRE OF SHAOCHUN
吾皇萬歲,萬歲,萬萬歲

BULLETIN OF THE COURT: BREAKING NEWS - Communist Yamato rebels attack District 7 Police Headquarters, many feared killed as rebels take the building and hold hostages. Imperial Armed Forces and local police enforce martial law in District 7, 8 and 6 after being dispatched to resolve the crisis. | Land prices in Xinjang at an all-time low. | Microcommuters from the Xinjiapo Territory banned from entering the Malaysian Federation after the Empire's covert support for Sabah, Sarawak and Brunei was discovered.

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The Selkie
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Founded: Sep 17, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

The Whalelord makes his move

Postby The Selkie » Fri Dec 23, 2016 4:59 am

Near the Nifonese Freighter Kobayashi Maru.
Babar Islands.

The night was perfect, as Jaques Sparrow, a.k.a. Captain Whalelord, thought. It was starry, calm sea, the target a small blip on the repurposed trawler's radar.
It was not a large vessel or a heavily armed vessel, which the 'infamous' pirate had commandeered, but it was a hopefully effective vessel, capable of doing, what he needed it to do. That was acting as a command and mothership for smaller vessels, the actual pirate ships.
From the Age of Sail to now, piracy had changed quite a bit.
But cover was still everything. It was a bit of an irony, that the kind of vessel he dispised the most was the cover for what he had in mind: He would board and capture a freighter, the first one in a hopefully very long list of vessels captured by his band of pirates.
Crew to be ransomed off, what would happen to the cargo and the ship itself was to be seen.
He knew, that there were military vessels in the area, the Achar Islands Constabulary for example had a few patrol vessels in the area, but he simply hoped, that his intel had been correct. The Kobayashi Maru was supposed to be a lonely freighter, a single Captain trying his luck or testing his God to indeed give him a pirate free voyage.
Well, tough shit for you., Sparrow thought.
"We attack.", he commanded, watching the blimp. "Arm two skiffs, silent running. Intercept around here." He pointed at a dot on the navigation radar's screen. "I'll come along."
"Captain, you...", one of his officers replied, making a step forward.
Sparrow raised his hand. "I want to be there, when we capture the first one." He smiled. "I can't ask this of you, when I am unwilling to do it myself, now can I?"
There were nods and work began to bring the two skiffs with crews into the water. Connected to their mothership by pimped walkie talkies, the two skiffs were ready within minutes and on their way.
Sparrow did not give any speech - he had given enough of them already. Now, it was time to put the money where the mouth was. They were lightly armed, but for a freighter's crew it would be enough, even with the Nifonese.
Per skiff, eight men with a wide array of weapons, from AK-47 to a CAM 1966 and even an old Gabha R-22, all of them long outdated. Then again, the weapon, which made the AK-47 outdated had yet to be constructed.
Their silent running brought the two skiffs to the interception point within the quarter of an hour, the large shape of the freighter, the Kobayashi Maru, appearing soon after.
Sparrow steeled his nerves. This was his first pirate attack and he was nervous. One of his men threw up over the side, his barf swimming on the surface.
There was not much food in it, one of the reasons why these people followed him so readily: The oceans were in danger due to commerce, freighters like the one they attacked and fishing trawlers like the one, which was his mothership. The rich and fat cats got richer and fatter, while the likes of his companions, most of them from the Sunda Republic (or what remained of them) got poorer and poorer, had less to eat, because their waters were fished empty and the food they grew was no competition to the subsidized trash they got from 'more developed' countries, their trash thrown onto their doorstep.
The whole point of the system was to keep the poor poor and make the rich getting richer. He, from one of those 'developed countries' could not take it anymore, so he took a gun and began his business, finding a crew with the intent to raid, pillage and plunder the ships, which aided the rich cats, disrupting their commerce - or at least make it very much harder.
He had no illusions about what would happen once they had enough: A veritable parade of international intervention forces, trying to bring stability to this region of the world - or, in other words, make the commerce flow freely once more.
He gulped. "Go. Attack.", he spoke into his pimped up walkie talkie and grabbed the rails.
The skiffs sped up, racing towards the Kobayashi Maru with the intent of sending her to the Promised Land or however Nifonese Christians called their afterlife. Hell would do as well.
The first gunshots were fired by someone on the other skiff in accordance to the plan, the old R-22 sending out bullets towards the satellite dishes and communication antennas with the intent of taking them out before the freighter could call for aid.
A moment later, the first boarding party was readying the grappling hooks, shooting them onto the vessel's railings before climbing up the sides.
Sparrow was the second up, while his first comrade already ran towards the bridge - priority one, the bridge. Priority two, the radio room. Priority three, the rest of the ship and the crew.
It would not be a pretty stay for their prisoners of war.
Half an hour later, the Kobayashi Maru was captured, along with eighteen sailors, their Captain and a cargo yet to be looked at. She even got a new course, towards the harbour of Sparrow's pirates. A few crew members were wounded, two dead (one because of resisting capture and the other to make a point).
Their skiffs and their mothership met up somewhere else and went on their merry way towards the same destination on a different route. Sparrow knew, that this would only be the beginning...
I play PT, MT and a bit FT. I am into character-RPs.
My people are called the Selkie, the nation is usually called the Free Lands in MT-settings. Thanks.

Silverport Dockyards Ltd.: Storefront - Catalogue

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Organized States
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Founded: Apr 26, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Organized States » Fri Dec 23, 2016 8:45 pm

OSS Daniel Inouye DDG-121

"Small arms fire off starboard side!" said one of the sailors in the ship's combat information center, as he wiped sweat off of his brow. The CIC was the eyes, ears, and brains of the ship, melding together all of the information captured by sensors and cameras across the ship into one single picture.

"RETURN FIRE. FIVE ROUNDS HIGH EXPLOSIVE ON BOAT BEARING ZERO-FIVE-ZERO!" ordered the executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Andrew Bigelow, a former gunnery officer himself. A Petty Officer Second Class immediately responded, turning the ship's Mark 45 5" gun almost 180 degrees to fire the rounds as ordered. In just a few seconds, the gun unleashed a five rounds of deadly 127mm. The high-explosive warheads immediately bore down on the boats with extreme accuracy, being guided in with accurate data from the Daniel Inouye's AN/SPS-73 Surface Search Radar and AN/SPG-62 Fire Control Radar.

"FIVE ROUNDS HIGH EXPLOSIVE ON BOAT BEARING ZERO-FOUR-ZERO!" the XO ordered again, with the Petty Officer manning the gun firing five more rounds from the devastating 5" gun's twenty-round magazine in quick succession.

"NEW SURFACE CONTACTS! LARGER VESSEL BEARING ZERO-EIGHT-ZERO WITH SMALLER ONES. APPEARS TO BE THE MOTHERSHIP." the sailor manning the long-range AN/SPS-73 surface radar yelled, plotting more target tracks for the CIC to engage.

"FIRE TWO SM-6. ANTI-SHIP AT THE VESSELS BEARING ZERO-EIGHT-ZERO." Bigelow ordered, seeing the gamble of this engagement. Although it could be a fishing vessel, it was sure as hell too close to be doing anything but supporting the pirates.

On the bridge, Commander Conderman found herself once again ordering the yeoman to make aggressive maneuvers. "HARD PORT TWO-ZERO DEGREES. FULL POWER!" she ordered, with the yeoman turning the ship tightly in a drastic effort to avoid the heavy fire of rocket-propelled grenades.

"DAMAGE REPORT?" she asked as the ship shifted, watching as a few of the streaks from the rocket-propelled grenades streaked past the ship's bridge.

"One RPG hit the hull, looks a bounce ma'am. No major damage at this time." said the Chief of the Boat, Master Chief Petty Officer Frank Marquez calmly as he let go of the telephone which connected him to damage control and the CIC through the ship intercom.

Nimitz-MacArthur Pacific Command Center
Camp H.M. Smith, Halawa, Oahu, Hawaii


The Nimitz-MacArthur Building, the bustling nerve center of the OS Pacific Fleet and OS Forces in the Pacific as a whole, sat just a few miles away from Pearl Harbor and Hickam Air Force Base, being separated from the historic installations only by the metropolis of Honolulu and its suburbs and the massive Kamehameha Highway that wound through the center of the island of Oahu. The light rain pattered slightly on Admiral Chester Hammond's cover as he walked into the building. One of the nice parts about Pacific Fleet was the fact that summer dress was authorized year-round, but this added benefit quickly disappeared during the very rare times it rained on the Leeward side. His aide, Captain Matthew Pinkerman, quickly opened the door for him in his prompt and polite fashion that was expected out of the typical aide-de-camp. Unfortunately, for Pinkerman, Hammond was not exactly the typical Admiral. A former Naval Aviator who slugged it out as an LTJG in the A-7, Hammond had a certain aggressiveness to him that wasn't matched by many others in the Fleet.

They quickly strutted through the building, moving towards the large Joint Operations Center (JOC) that was utilized by PACOM for situations like this in Peacetime. As soon as they stepped into the large room, most defined by the dozens of computer screens that covered walls and desks, displaying everything from radar tracks to maps, a sailor immediately called "Attention on Deck!" bringing the entire room to attention.

Not interested in seeing the work stop for a formality, Hammond responded "Carry on" almost instantly, with the various sailors, soldiers, airmen, and Marines in the room returning to their posts.

"Sir, the Daniel Inouye has taken a single RPG hit to her starboard side. It's mostly believe to be cosmetic, mostly superficial at this time. No structural damage nor fires reported. Conderman has elected to return fire. As of this moment, they've remained steadily within the rules of engagement." Admiral Oliver "Oli" Cruz, responded. Calm and composed as ever, Cruz had been perhaps one of the finest CINCPACFLTs, Hammond had ever known. It would be a shame when the man retired next year for the Big Island.

"So within the limits established by the President?" Hammond asked. If Ellsworth found out that his very specific rules had been violated, there'd be hell to pay within PACOM, even though he only had two months left in the Presidency, he could still fire officers at will.

"Yes, sir. Conderman has engaged three targets that appear to be taking hostile action towards her vessel." replied Cruz.

"Well, we still have to inform the President anyways. Can you get me on the phone with him or at least SecDef. Someone in Washington needs to know."
Thank God for OS!- Deian
"In the old days, the navigators used magic to make themselves strong, but now, nothing; they just pray. Before they leave and at sea, they pray. But I, I make myself strong by thinking—just by thinking! I make myself strong because I despise cowardice. Too many men are afraid of the sea. But I am a navigator."-Mau Piailug
"I regret that I have only one life to give to my island." -Ricardo Bordallo, 2nd Governor of Guam
"Both are voyages of exploration. Hōkūle‘a is in the past, Columbia is in the future." -Colonel Charles L. Veach, USAF, Astronaut and Navigation Enthusiast

Pacific Islander-American (proud member of the 0.5%), Officer to be

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Common Territories
Senator
 
Posts: 4745
Founded: Nov 08, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Common Territories » Sat Dec 24, 2016 12:18 am

105 kilometers from Pascal Archipelago
Foerstner Whaling Ship "Fridenot"


Closed away in darkness with a slight glee of light piercing the porthole, a cold rustic room felt sealed off from the outside world. The room was cramped to the brim with cots, small lockers, and whatever else the occupants were allowed to store in their shared personal space. Slumbering away, the young men occupying the cots were the only signs of life in this isolated environment. Well, all but one young man who, unfortunately, found difficulty in staying asleep throughout the night. So when it came time to wake up, David Vogt was not completely startled by the sudden noise of the alarm clock ringing in the front of the room - rather, he was disappointed more than anything, like a child who awoke on Monday morning after enjoying a long holiday break from school. Like turbines moving in natural sync, David and the other nine slumbering men rose from their cots - not surprisingly, no one else seemed startled by the loud ringing of the alarm either. Each man sat up on their cot, trying to fully wake up as they got dressed for their shift. To them it was all automated, as if they were part of a line of machines working on cars - no emotion, no wasted effort, not even signs of conciseness as fingers and hands moved. For David, however, it continued to be a rough process every single morning to get used to. David only recently signed onto the company, this was his first week on the job still - it was either work for his parent's garbage collection business like they pressured him to, or, take up a career somewhere far away in an attempt to seek the independence he so badly thirsted for. He was eighteen, but his parents were still upset enough to argue with him up until the very last moment when David got on the boat last week. Living on a boat working most of the day, or staying home to listen to nagging parents for more years to come - it wasn't a hard choice for David when it came down to it. As he finally got dressed and made his way to the washroom, he found he was straggling behind yet again since most of the men had already washed up and headed off to their duties; David wasn't yet sure if taking this job was a mistake, but he desperately hoped his situation would improve soon. This was David's first time away from the Mainland, it was even his first time in an ocean, so getting used to the time differences, the swaying of the ship, and the smell - "Oh man... the smell." - were proving to be a hardship he wasn't expecting. "The paycheck David. Think of the paycheck!", he thought to himself as he ran the water over his face; the second reason he took this job was because the pay was out of this world comparatively to other viable options - fifteen Imperial Dollars per hour than he would have made working for his parents, and the gig he would have had there would have been nice in its own right when it came to income. Three weeks out here at sea alone would earn him about fifteen grand - "Not bad pay for the shitty role of a pair of spare hands." he chuckled to himself. David's one moment of positivity suddenly vanished at the sight of his boss walking into the room; Karlmann Kneib, the ships's staff manager, was a bigger back breaker than even his parents were. The man had a permanent "Get to work!" face on at all times, and the more times he had to show you how to do something, the more he rides your ass on lecturing you about it.

"Boy! Quit lollygagging and hurry up!", the old fart began lecturing David without so much a "good morning". "The ramp area needs cleaning. We got a good catch last night, so there's plenty left of the mess leftover on the stern to clean up. Hands are tight right now since the shift is changing, so you'll be doing it alone. Make sure you don't fall into the slide - if I have to pluck another hand from the bottom of that pit, im opening the damn doors and letting you swim back to the Mainland. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir. I'll head there now." David bit his lip for the time being - money was more important than a momentary victory, if he even scored points in such a pointless argument.

Cleaning sucks, but it comes with the territory of being a deck mate on the FWS' "Fridenot" - David, being the newest and youngest of the crew, was naturally the most junior mate in the ship's deck department. Crew in his position were often selected to perform the worst or most tedious job the Thebes-class whaler had to offer; cleaning, serving food, carrying supplies or product around, managing storage, and other basic odd-jobs the Captain or Chief Mate could come up with. Whenever he's not attending his deck duties, he's obediently educating himself on the processing line next to working senior crew members in order to learn from them; regardless if they planned to stay after their first journey or not, new crew members are taught to carve up, process, and package the various products they fabricate from whales - such items include blubber, oil, meat, and other various products that are stored away until they return to port. When it came time to, new crew like David would occasionally receive hands on training until they mastered the art of processing/carving up whale; once they became skilled enough, they would likely work on the line in shifts according to their seniority. Since crew working on the processing line earned bonuses, working the line is like a second pay check after their salary from the journey itself - fighting for shifts on the line came natural to crewmen since many of them were providing for families they rarely see. This method of job training allows fishing companies to decrease their staff onboard ships since their crews become more fluent in jobs on the ship, allowing for a more efficient workforce, which in turn allows such companies to utilize their fleet of ships better. What caught David by surprise, however, was the smell and disgusting act of butchering whales as a line of work. David never fished before, but even so, he felt most fish wouldn't produce such a terrible odor unless left out to rot for weeks. Almost everyone and everything reeks of whale guts, an odor so unimaginably awful, David has thrown up twice so far - this reaction, mind you, is coming from someone who was raised around garbage collectors and dump management. The Captain told David it would grow on him eventually, but David is convinced the stench will forever haunt his memory, regardless if he grows accustom to it or not. In this situation, cleaning didn't suck so much after all in David's mind; at least you're removing a cause of the stench and the cleaning solution smelled like freshly picked roses in comparison to the rotting blood and guts of whales. As he dawned his apron, gloves, face mask, and made sure his hood was tightened around his head, David wheeled out a freshly filled janitor's bucket and mop from a nearby supply closet; he probably should bring along pliers and a basket, but if he needed them he could just grab them from a closer supply closet - actual chunks and guts were a rare sight outside of the processing line after all. David made his way along the right-hand bulwark of the ship, pushing the bucket full of cleaning liquid ahead of him using the mop to guide it. Just as he made it past the ship's main structure, he came to a curve in the path where the front structure met the rear structure. Distracted from the chewing he got moments ago, and his nature of keeping his eyes pointed at the ground, David didn't notice the figure of a man walking toward him in the opposite direction. By the time he noticed the boots of the man, he had nearly rammed the guy with the bucket. David, in a split-second reaction, pulled the bucket to his right side as quickly as he could - any later and the poor sap would have been completely covered in cleaning liquid. Though he tried, the wheels and side of the bucket still scraped against the man's leg, clearly annoying him even though nothing had spilled on him. "Watch where you're going dammit! Are you trying to soak me in whale blood or something!?"

"Im sorry sir! I wasn't paying attention! It wont happen again!" David apologized in a panic, not even recognizing if the voice belonged to one of his bosses or not. He started to pull away though, recognizing the man's boots and pants weren't those of someone working on the boat. David took one look at the man's outfit and realized he needed to move on quick and not become involved with this person.

"It better not. This place stinks enough as it is. I'd much rather not become soaked in whatever the fuck is making that stench, brat." the man was brutish and showed no sign of being humble.

David wished he had been paying better attention now. Although he didn't nearly ram into a boss of his, he ran into a someone he'd rather not have to deal with on a personal level. David looked up long enough to see the man and unfortunately share eye contact with him for a split moment as the man quickly moved on in a hurry. He was wearing a uniform David recognized as belonging to soldiers, wore some vest over his uniform that David also recognized as being a soldier's, had on accessories such as sunglasses and gloves, and wore some military hat that looked straight out of a military hardware store's catalog. He didn't seem too much older than David, but he was certainly bigger, had muscles the size most men would envy, and showed little signs of shaving the last few days. The most notable features of the man, however, wasn't his appearance or his clothing; what stuck out more to David was the large rifle the man had hanging from some tactical rear sling mount, and the large machete he had strapped to his right thigh. This man wasn't a crewman of the Fridenot for sure. The man was some hired infantryman from Commoner League Inc., a private military company famous in TECT and infamous to others around the world. Although David didn't care for the type of man it took to make a security contractor, nor was he a fan of guns, he at least felt safer with men like this contractor around; CLI was actually one of David's earlier career options, but he didn't believe he could pass the physical nor would he have the courage to work as blackwater soldier, so that career path quickly became moot on David's short list of careers. The reason David felt more comfortable with hired guns close by? The answer is one word: Piracy.

The Captain made it very clear to David when he was vetting him that the waters their ship would be working in is well known for having pirates of vary creed. "They come aboard, rape the women, kill some of us, and keep the rest for slaves or ransom. The cargo? They may take it for themselves to live off of, take what they want, or try to sell it all off for profit. Although tedious and now more hostile are the 'Green' ones. They like to disrupt or use force to stop a whaling ship like ours from working because they want to protect whales, fish, or whatever their bleeding hearts feel most pain for. I've heard stories that they're so desperate, they'll hook onto warships and cry on their knees as they beg for everyone to leave the whales alone. Personally, I'd shoot every last one of them, considering they like to call themselves pirates - and in TECT, we shoot to kill anyone daring to call themselves pirates." The Captain went into deeper detail trying to explain and break David to see if he was brave enough to really be a crew member on board his ship; it was important he had nerves because if it came to it, he would be one of the twenty something crew members required to take up arms against any pirates that presented themselves - David would have to literally take one of the rifles from the weapon lockers and possibly take another's life in self defense. Every crew member had to be reliable at least in that regard. David had a hard time convincing the Captain he was prepared for such a duty - he honestly thought the Captain would catch him in his lie and deny him the job. To his surprise, David got the job and seemed to have fooled the Captain into believing he's a fighter; the Captain's parting words at the interview, however, left a deep impression on David, questioning whether he had fooled the man or was merely fooling himself. "I pray for my sake and yours that your promises are true."

After David was granted permission to board the FWS Fridenot and the vessel sailed to the Pascal Archipelago area, David was briefly introduced to some of the ship's crew, and, a few members of the ship's recently acquired CLI security detachment; nothing more than a few greetings and a couple handshakes, probably since the likelihood of a young man like David staying for a second journey were exceptionally low, so why bother getting to know him too well. The Captain was obligated to explain that the region's waters were dangerous, recently even more so with the rise of new factions with different motives for piracy; but he was confident in their safety since their route stays relatively close to a major Imperial Navy Station, and they would be avoiding the other landmasses in the region for good reasons. In the past, Naval Station Pascal often provided escorts for the Fridenot and other Commoner vessels traveling in the area; the Imperial Navy maintains an excessive territory, economic exclusion zone, and security policy that's protected these waters for decades now - pirates have been smart enough to avoid even sailing near Commoner controlled waters because the risk for them outweighs the potential for rewards. Naval Station Pascal's policies changed halfway through this year when the Emperor's order to provide ship escorts to major fishing vessels were replaced with a Congressional Order backed by the Emperor to replace those ship escorts with security forces aboard major economic vessels. It wasn't rare for these types of ships to have such security or to even be able to defend themselves, but the rise of new threats against civilian vessels (fishing vessels in particular) prompted the Emperor to make his earlier decree, which provided naval escorts to only major fishing vessels at the time. To sum up the new Congressional Order, the Empire would replace ship escorts with a force of hired security contractors to protect major fishing vessels, cargo ships, and other civilian based vessel seeking approval for security contractors. Congress put forth funding that pays for security contractors, reimburses companies during their stay aboard vessels, and handled other related costs associated with security contractors needs/defenses; companies like Foerstner Whaling had to simply apply for the status and work out a contract with both the government and CLI to place security detachments aboard their ships. Using security contractors instead of deploying warships, or even deploying Royal Guard Marines, slashes the cost of providing security for major fishing vessels by replacing government/military forces with a cheaper and reliable alternative; the Empire could cut down on deployments, remove specially designed patrols if desired, and rely on reaction forces if the time ever came. Although the firepower overall is greatly reduced for these ships, the most pirates could possibly muster themselves would either match or be considerably weaker than whatever CLI would be equipped with. Aboard the Fridenot specifically were a squad of eight infantrymen from one of the many infantry units CLI operates; they were issued Nashorn rifles for this mission because of their superior range and firepower, two Panzerfaust-11's (one for each team) in case the firepower or shrapnel was needed, a single AMR Sturm sniper rifle for the watchtower to eliminate long ranged threats, and enough ammo stored on board to last a month. The Fridenot itself didn't slouch when it came to protecting itself either; the ship came standard with a watchtower, which was typically sandbagged and always had two armed lookouts at any given time before CLI took over security, two weapons lockers with eight AR Scorpion G1's inside each along with some ammunition, and two water cannons on both sides of the ship to deter protesters with non-lethal force. Nobody questioned if the ship was ready for a fight - what everyone did question is what constituted, in their own definition, a legal fight?

When it comes to the Imperial Navy and Imperial Government, there is no question mariners have a right to protect themselves with arms. So long as the ship and owner(s) pass background checks like any other citizen, the ship and its crew will be granted the right to posses arms they listed for. Difficulty arises when the term "legality" comes into play, mostly because the TECT Government enforces different laws and regulations than many in the international community do. Do Commoner mariners follow TECT's own crafted laws governing the seas and agreements it chooses to abide to, or does it submit to the international community and its laws established by international entities such as the World Assembly? Or should Commoner mariners follow the same international norms most countries and their mariners abide to? The answer, at least to the Commoners, is to follow their own country's guidelines and to the rest of the world, the muzzle of a gun if they want to do something about that stance. If it's one thing TECT is widely known for internationally, it's the long history of individualism and self-centered attitude that most countries scoff at. Imperial culture aside, most Commoners see such international laws and norms as being unfair and illegal to impose on TECT considering the Empire not only disagrees with the terms set forth by such regulations, but the Empire never even had a say in their implementation to begin with; "Why do we need to follow some law made in some random body we're not even part of?" or "What makes these foreigners more righteous then us!?", "We're Commoners! From the North to the South of Royals, one sea onto the next, we are dominant here! Not them! We are mighty and wont tolerate the garbage globalists want us to adhere to!" So when it came to territory, ownership, and rights, Commoners have consistently clashed with international entities in the past. Pirates, armed or peaceful, have been a scourge to the Empire since the early days of the Imperial Navy; of course the government and history books turn a blind eye to the patriotic forms of piracy used in the past, notably Letters of Marque and military operations. In modern times, TECT's brutal crackdown on pirates around the world, smugglers, and other similar criminals have nearly eradicated the term piracy from the Mainland's vocabulary; if you ask a random stranger on the street about pirates, they likely either think of the old Rum Swashbucklers, smugglers who try to rip off customers, or the Empire's "War on Piracy". The occasional smuggling operation trying to slip in contraband products to TECT markets, or even the isolated armed piracy you'd see in less secure colonial possessions around the world, both see an overwhelming military/police response to teach other like minded criminals that such behavior wont be tolerated. The Empire has spent the last few decades making it strikingly clear that piracy is a one-way death sentence when committed against Commoner interests. Media outlets love to publish content about the Imperial Navy's war on piracy, a thing left-wing outlets love to criticize and right-wing organizations often praise - rounding up criminals, sinking of pirate ships, even small skirmishes, anything that attracts the attention of the world to TECT's brutal crackdown on anything piracy. Type in "TECT" and anything related to piracy into your preferred search engine, and you're likely search results are of the Imperial Navy killing pirates, one brutal sinking at a time. No better a headline for liberal media outlets than one accusing the Imperial Navy of taking extra-judicial powers by killing pirates with no signs of mercy. A world David Vogt knew nothing about nor expected to learn about, but one he'd probably end up thankful for by the time his first voyage at sea ends.

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McNernia
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5378
Founded: Oct 05, 2011
New York Times Democracy

Postby McNernia » Mon Dec 26, 2016 7:07 pm

Approaching Sunda, High Conflict Zones
100 Km From Coast of Damar Island, Near Capitol

HM Submarine Sea Sprite, Lanchev B Class
SSN-S912LB




The big submarine was one of the best for this job. Getting a crack commando unit to the beach and seeing that fire support was never more than a whispered word away. The Mcnernian Royal Navy was tasked with among other things ensuring that the oceans of the world were safe from pirates and the issue of the Republic of Sunda falling apart meant that pirates could operate out of militia held areas and attack ships with near impunity. That would not be allowed to happen. Also, the Sultanate of Damar was a nation that was anti-Communist ostensibly. The Mcnernian policy was to engage the anti-Communist countries of the world. Mcnernian paleo-Liberalism meant that the country would stand up to the Left and all that it was making. Which at a word was a whole lot of misery. The Mcnernian Royal Navy was quite often all that stood between nations and collapse. A Navy ship could turn the tide in those Third World countries that cried out to be liberated from the tyranny of the Nazi and the Communist.

To Commander Alastair Mandell, a submariner who had fought in the in Hutanjian war and in the Civil war two years ago,. A time when rebels had gained the malicious backing of the Soviet Union and they had proceeded to attack the homeland the idea of delivering Special Boat Service recon commandos to the anarchical paradise. Surely the people would be happy to have some help. The commander was quite experienced and nearly beaching a nuclear submarine on a Soviet beach after evading Yasens and Akulas meant that the Admiralty had given him a courage and initiative citation and the flag of the Sea Sprite had been given an honor. The war with the Soviets had taken a back seat to the general security of the world.
“What I would not give to be hunting Russians…damn bastards think you can come into my country and raise a Revolution. So long as good men oppose you…”

“Captain, we need you in the command room. Possible subsurface contact…don’t know if one of the…”

“Save your breath for when I am there Lt Commander. One moment if you please.”

Mandell rose from where he was working on his private log and then he headed to the control room which was a bit forward from his current location passing in the narrow pipe lined halls of the ship a few of the many sailors who called this boat home about half of the year. The deployment was about two months in. Every man and woman wore a jumpsuit and it was marked with pockets and one of them carried a gas mask. Medics were aboard and they had been trained to handle the worst problem.

Reactor breach.

Not that it would happen on a ship like the Sea Sprite with the Lanchevs getting their engines checked every time they came back from a tour. Every six months the yard crews would go over the data and they would go into the ship when she came into the pens. Those imposing bunkers that in the tradition of the Nazis. Though they were disgusting in their desire for violence they had good instincts when it came to the issues of protecting one’s subsurface assets especially the attack submarines and the precious Boomers that came in with the night and left. In cartoons submariners were seen as vampires, pale faces from a lack of sunlight. Medics handed out vitamin D. Boats on combat missions like this or under wartime operations were forbidden for the most part from surfacing. And well with the SFDV strapped to their backs, Mandell knew that his boats best defense was to stay hidden and as the Yankee saying from an old movie he had seen in the officers’ club at Pearl Harbor went.

RUN SILENT, RUN DEEP.

Entering the control room, he looked at the Lieutenant commander. A shortish man, Cuscatlani, he spoke of how his father had longed to flee the Communists and had done so with him as a boy of four many years ago, Settling in the St Michael Islands he had been sent off to the Naval College when he had come of age before he had been sent out to the Pacific.

“Commander on deck.” Everyone was at attention with Mandell quick to nod. “As you were people, ok Mr Carballo, what do we got?”
“Sonar contact, data on your console sir.”
Mandell stepped across the room to the commander’s chair. He settled in and activated the multi-function console and pulled up Sonar. The green blip that was on the scope. 800 meters to the star board and holding. He looked at it, the computer was running matches, looking for it.

“Sonar, Lieutenant, sub surface…any Commoners in the area?”
“Unknow sir, we don’t know, unknown if the militias would have seized Naval assets of the Sundians.”
Mandell pursed his lips and let out a slow hissing breath, the blip was moving on a roughly parallel course to his own. Seemed to be moving away from the ship. With an SFDV strapped to his ship he could not have much of a chance. The Commoners were allies of Mcnernia but the current situation was, allegations had been surfacing on the deep web for a while. The Royal Navy had briefings for those captains who were seconded to the Special Forces duties and he was quite often in the odd bar and he could have his ears open with the ear towards his job.
Looking at the console he could see the contact was moving. He spoke slowly. Feeling like a sniper who was looking through the target with a clock that was on him. “All stop on the main turbines, proceed at six knots. I don’t think they have found us. Weapons, I want firing solutions just in case. Last resort we engage with fish.”
“Yes sir.”
“At once captain.”

The Sea Sprite would stay the course and complete her mission. No matter what it took.
Polaria
Erin Islands
Kaisong Islands
Al-Azkar
Rhodana
Eragh
Arisal
Kirav
Neu Engollon
New Edom: Clyde Hullar Ambassador
Aurora
Children of Aurora
A Luta Continua
Aneas
Tyrennia
Golgoth
Pardes
Cornellian Empire
Rostil
Sondria
Ajax
Astyria

Greater Dienstad
Minyang
Endorser of the Amistad Declaration
SIgnatory of the Amistad Declaration
IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH MY RPing, TG ME PLEASE, THANKS A BUNCH.
A Time of Trouble
All my posts shall be dedicated to Tom Clancy. May he Rest In Peace.
I Consider the above to be Canon. Which means I want to RP with you if you've been in those regions. Or Are.

Call me Archinia ICly and well maybe Mcnernia is plausible....I don't know.

Lore change?

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Mokastana
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1566
Founded: Feb 20, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Mokastana » Tue Dec 27, 2016 9:29 am

Montana Inc Merchant Convoy
Somewhere East of The Babar Islands



Captain Boomer appreciated a good coffee in the morning. Not that cheap stuff found in most crappy ports and cheap diners, but the real Mokan stuff that grew in Peruvia, or the Azteca blends of Central Mokastana. Real Coffee. It was hard to justify having so much stored on the ship for his private supply, but he didn't care. When you were a Captain for as long as he was, doing most of the dangerous jobs like he did, little things like using more cargo space for personal use that normally allowed could be overlooked.

Between sips of the warm beverage, Boomer slipped into some denim pants and a sweater while trying to wake up. No need for formalities on his ship, they weren't military. Instead he left the stiff regulations kind of work to the PMCs aboard. Let them worry about clean pressed uniforms and freshly shaved faces. Once Boomer found his morning slippers, he made the short walk from the Captain's quarters to the bridge, but not before refilling his mug one more time. The crew could have the cheap shit, but his coffee’s aroma would be a nice reminder to what they were missing.

“Captain on Deck!”

His XO, said aloud in jest, knowing the Captain was still groggy from waking up. No one moved from their position, even the two Zarbian crew members barely paused their conversation before going back. Boomer made a half hearted wave/salute to the XO, followed by a single finger, before beginning with the days news:

"So, tell me Steve, anything fun happen last night?”

Commander Steve Davison was Boomer's XO, a man who grew up in Imbrinium and the only one onboard who could out drink the Captain.

“A few pirate activity reports, a warship from the Organized States, and a Nifonese cargo ship. Looks like light RPGs and standard AK variants.”

“Someone attacked the Nifonese, Huh?”

The Nifon Navy was powerful, that much was for sure, but Boomer didn't know much about them, other than they loved war almost as much as indigenous Mokans. Surely that would end well for someone.

“Alright, let's keep up the vigilance, and try to contact the Damar Sultanate when we enter the Babar Islands, a few escorts would be appreciated. What about weather? We still good?”

Like always, Montana Inc was expanding its reach. From its humble beginnings selling pharmaceutical drugs, to becoming a regional financial powerhouse, Montana Inc only continued to grow in every direction it could. Now, with a wonderful island chain slowly transitioning from warlords to governments, it was time to invest.

The first deals made were with the Damar Sultate, a general turned Prince who had established himself as a local power. Though selling pharmacy goods to a Muslim nation required quite a bit of learning local customs and beliefs. After all, narcotics and stimulants were heavily regulated, if not outright banned. Even the coffee Boomer loved so much was to never leave the ship. Yet, Montana had other options: water purification systems, Muslim approved medications from local Doctors, and modern medical/sanitation supplies. The recreational product lines would never sell here, but Montana had another product for the Sultan, munitions.

Though supplied mostly by the Nifonese, specialized goods and ammunition were still requirements for a growing military. Calibres of all sorts were sold by Montana, in all kinds of specialized rounds. For a client such as the Sultan, if he wanted a new gun that wasn't Nifonese, perhaps one he saw in a movie, Montana would be happy to ‘gift' a specialized version to their new client.

What that meant was that now Montana Inc vessels, often flying non PUF flags due to the war, were shipping in weapons and medical supplies to a local power in hostile waters. This was why Captain Boomer was put in charge.

Six freighters were in his convoy, two being Assurance Class vessels registered to the Holy Marsh. A nation that not only approved of putting CIWS systems on a shipping vessel, but downright encouraged it. The other four only had a handful of PMC troops on hand to counter boarding parties, it would be up to the Phalanxes and mortars of the Assurance Class vessels to keep threats at bay, at least, long enough for someone to come to their aide if required. Ideally it would be an easy trip, but fate was never kind enough to make them all easy. Sooner or later, something would catch up with them. The only question was, who would it be?
Last edited by Mokastana on Tue Dec 27, 2016 12:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Factbook
Montana Inc

Quotes about Mokastana:
Trust the Mokans to be armed even when among their allies
-Zaheran

The fact that the Mokans hadn't faced the same fate was a testament to their preparedness, or perhaps paranoia
-United Gordonopia

Moka you are a land of pimps, prostitutes, drug lords, and corruption.
We love you for it.
-The Scandinvans

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The Selkie
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 18540
Founded: Sep 17, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby The Selkie » Tue Dec 27, 2016 11:51 am

While the Kobayashi Maru steamed towards the Achar Islands, already being inside of their security zone and steaming happily, by now under the name of Terra Promessa, a fake registration in Alto Mare in Lutetii, and with a crew of less then minimal size, a video hit the internet and was soon visible on many accounts on social networks, in part in many newsreels, and sound clips in many radio shows.
It was nothing too impressive, but making quite a splash:
It began with a logo, a white tree on a green, round shield, which soon faded and was replaced by the image of a young man, middle-length brown hair, nicely trimmed full beard, green eyes and a pair of green glasses. The logo was behind him, placed there via computer and greenscreen.
People knowledgeable in such matters, and soon the whole world, knew this man as Captain Whalelord or Jaques Sparrow. He was not a putrid, scurvy-ridden pirate as people would expect, but rather dressed and behaving like a gentleman, in a good-looking suit, including a hankerchief in his breast pocket. His shoes, however, were horrible.
The only indications as to who he was were the logo behind him, a rather large handgun at his hip, and the fact, that there were all the crew members taken hostage, bound with zipties and gagged with clean, white cloth, lined up against the wall behind him. He spoke a clean, nearly accent-free English, calmly and never raising his voice. He flourished with his hands, like he would moderate a documentary or a discussion, much less saying what he indeed said.
And what he said was:
    "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am Jaques Sparrow, you may know me as Captain Whalelord.
    I am the one, who commanded the men, who boarded and captured the Nifonese freighter Kobayashi Maru. We did not do so as an act of vile and pathetic terrorism, but to follow a greater good then any of you can imagine.
    The truth, hidden from you by velvety words from 'experts' in your governtment is... the seas are in danger. And with them, we are.
    Marine life as we know it, with an overabundance of fish, whales to be watched by gawking tourists and people swimming with dolphins, as well as we don't know it, with a very sensitive circle of life, will not exist in five years, if we continue to rob the very foundation of our life of that foundation. Overfishing and economic activity, like fish farming, drilling for oil at sea and plotting courses through environmentally sensitive areas like coral reefs, destroys life - and lifelyhoods as well. Due to the overfishing in the abundant fishing ground around Sunda, many fishermen are jobless now, their fish gone.
    Their basis of life... gone.
    Their families... starving.
    And their country... in ruins. And its ruined even more with every whaler and trawler, every freighter passing through the coral reefs, destroying centuries upon centuries of life... and the very lungs and foundations of our civilization. And one day, sooner then we would think, the house is going to crash down on top of our heads, burying all of us beneath it.
    In the end, these people behind me, the Kobayashi Maru's crew are just pawns in a game far larger then we all can imagine, a game played by a very few, who will see their riches, which they robbed off the people around them, in danger - and they will act.
    As such, the crew of the Kobayashi Maru will be released to their families for the sum of twenty million NSD or an equivalent, transferred to a number account in Leuda, Free Lands of the Selkie. Once we have the confirmation, that the money is there, these men will be released. Until then, they will be our guests and they will be treated as such... within the confines of their status as our prisoners, of course. I would like to apologize for the inconvinience.
    If the governments of the world in general and of Nifon especially want to stop such attacks, they will have to listen. It's rather simple: Cease all foreign whaling and fishing operations within the waters of the Sunda Republic, the stop of all economic operations in environmentally sensitive areas, the stop of all offshore gas drilling, real measures for environmental protection, from nations, their industries and their people, increased spending in research about the seas and marine life, as well as the release of all political prisoners, who were not found guilty of any other crime then to speak their mind openly. Additionally, the governments of the Common Territories and Nifon, as well as of the Selkie, are to retreat their troops back home to their own shores, away from the Babar Islands.
    The fullfillment of these... let's call them 'demands' is however not bound to the demand for the Kobayashi Maru's crew. That is a different matter entirely.
    I await your response and wish you a nice day. And remember: We have only lend this world from our children, not inherited it from our parents. Good day."
The logo appeared again and the message ended, fading to black.
The video had been found on a CD in an unmarked envelope underneath the door of a journalist, the fingerprints on it belonging to him and a few other people, who were easily identified and had very good alibis and excuses as to why their fingerprints were on that envelope.
Shortly after that, the Elder Council handed out a press release, according to which the Achar Islands Constabulary would return home, once their mission was fullfilled and their presence not needed anymore. Until then, they would stay, where they were.
Last edited by The Selkie on Tue Dec 27, 2016 11:51 am, edited 1 time in total.
I play PT, MT and a bit FT. I am into character-RPs.
My people are called the Selkie, the nation is usually called the Free Lands in MT-settings. Thanks.

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New Aeyariss
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Postby New Aeyariss » Thu Dec 29, 2016 9:01 am

*** Fujian: Imperial Nifonese Navy General Staff:

The darkness slowly filled the room, diminishing the light as the projector activated, casting a series of images on the bright white wall, itself merely a single source of dim light in the room. Here, deep underground of Kaigun General Staff building, light reached very sparsely, and only when it was desperately needed. Just after the news of the pirate capture of the Nifonese shipping vessel reached this building, an order came on hot line from Ishikawa to form a crisis reaction staff to deal with the situation and give pirates a simple, easy to understand lesson of what happens when you choose to mess with the Nifonese. Today, just several hours after the incident, a recently formed CRS under command of Adm. Matsuoka Hiroshi was formed and instantly headed to work over the incident. They could not have gotten a better leader - Admiral Matsuoka was one of well versed persons in issues of piracy Kaigun could have put in charge, having already led a campaign of similar nature in Southern Furukuran sea. Although receiving far less media coverage than the "four tygers" such as Mizushima or Kobayashi, Matsuoka still had a degree of myth surrounding him - this short officer with square like face, raven dark hair, a pair of pointy, small eyes was rarely seen in public, kept secluded life of religious meditation and attributed his victories to the "heavenly father" rather than to himself. Nerveless, apart from that, Admiral Hiroshi possessed firm and strong character with enough charisma to inspire unending loyalty in his followers.

"I think we all know why we are here so I will skip the pleasantries" Matsuoka was always very laconic in his speech - never had a word been any different than shortest way to present information possible "Today at 23.05 Ishikawa time the transponder of Kobayashi Maru changed it's course in unexpected way before it's transponder stopped functioning. The ship subsequently vanished after last known position of 544* North and 341 * East **. The ship was carrying computers & electronic components headed for Riysa. Several hours later, this video appeared everywhere."

The Admiral quickly switched slide and played the recently obtained by Tokkeitai video of proclamation from Captain Whalelord. Although the very room the meeting was being held in was filled with hardened sea wolves that survived plenty of maritime battles, it quickly filled with an uneasy atmosphere. Nifonese were known to lack individualistic attitude of Western societies, partially by extremely strong family ties; now several husbands, sons and brothers were imprisoned by maritime bandits whose sole justification for those acts was protection of the environment. Like those men had no families on their own to feed.

"Tokkeitai identified the kunshi on the video as Jaques Sparrow, codename "Captain Whalelord", well known to Nifonese intelligence services" the Admiral's face, no matter how the grim situation was, always remained calm "Real name unknown as well as the age, Tokkeitai suspects Selikean origin of this individual. His date of arrival to the Babar islands is unknown, but first attack was carried over a year ago. He commands a wokou gang equipped in at least five mother ships, several smaller skiffs and possible access to older generation anti-ship equipment. His pirates are well funded from ransoms collected from the hijacked ships, well trained and highly motivated ideologically by mixture of radical environmentalism and anti-capitalism. To confirm that he was the one who kidnapped the freighter, he signed it with his own fingerprint as well as several others which Tokkeitai believe are matching those of Nifonese crew members according to national fingerprint database.

The admiral switched the slide again, showing the layout of Archar islands:

"Sparrow-san is believed to be operating out of Archar islands, although his ships are confirmed to be operating on far more extended range. We have currently no information on the crew's situation, but we believe that Sparrow has no interest in doing them any harm. He after all needs a way to finance his operations, and without hostages, he is useless. Now that we know the situation, here are your orders."

Te admiral turned to the first officer, sitting at the corner. He was visibly younger than the rest, about his early 40s- and scar covered face differed him from the rest of well ordained men of the Kaigun:

"Katsurou-shōshō" he addressed Rear Admiral Sasaki Katsorou, Tokkeitai liaison "You will launch an official investigation into the situation, attempting to gather information about strength, disposition and location of our foe."

"HAI TAISHOU!" shouted the Intelligence officer. Finally he had something to do.

"Minoru-taisa" next to be addressed was the cyberwarfare commander "Pirates given you an account. Dig me into it in cooperation with Katsurou-shōshō and rely to him any useful information you will find."

Another "HAI TAISHOU!" filled the room.

"Ryunosuke-taisa" the final gaze of the three star admiral was turned onto Commodore Watanabe Ryunosuke, coming from kaigun special warfare branch "Kojiro tono-ue ordered blood to be spilled for that incident. Get kurosame into combat readiness."

"Kurosame, Hiroshi-taishou?" As much as Watanabe was surprised by this question, he was very happy that his underlings will get a chance to finally taste some blood. After all, Kurosame meant "Black Shark" - and everyone knew how sharp teeth the sharks of Kaigun had.

"Yes, Ryunosuke - taisa. I am not going to play with this dishonorable gaijin wokou any game of cat and mouse. He, and rest of his dishonorable kin, will once for all learn their place. Honor demands it. Everyone clear?"

"HAI!"

"This session is closed. Report to me every four hours."

As Commodore Watanabe Ryunosuke left the room, he could not stop dreaming of the coming events..
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Belayarusia
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Ex-Nation

Postby Belayarusia » Fri Dec 30, 2016 3:49 am


President Volodin's Residence
Kharodvinsk
Western Belayarusia


    A great structure, it was, comparable to Putin's and Stalin's Dacha or even Adolf Hitler's Berghof in terms of purpose. The leader's personal home. An Italianate style architecture, the color white dominates the building, with a large, beautiful garden in front of the residence. Security detail is quite heavy this week, as today, the President is scheduled to meet some of his top advisors, Admirals, and Generals in this very compound. FSO security detail covers the entire residence, inside and outside, while Belayarusian Internal Troops guards the perimeter of the residence, including the task of checking every vehicle that enters the compound and manning the very front gate. The two most loved agencies of the President himself, ready to give a hundred percent whenever needed. President Yevgeny Volodin was just walking around his garden full of well-trimmed shrubs and flowers of various kinds when five Mercedes Benz S Classes rolled in on the front yard.

    Volodin peered from the distance as he saw five men exited the German-manufactured car, then walking swiftly up the front porch and into the building. He instantly knew that those are the five men that he's looking forward to discuss an important matter with today. Without hesitation, Volodin followed the men into his residence, as he walks up the porch, the two guards standing in front in their ceremonial uniform armed with SKS-45s saluted the President as he walks up the stairs. Volodin continued into the meeting room, where he'd meet his five trusted high rankings.
    As Volodin enters the meeting room, the five men saluted him at an instant. Mikhail Orlovsky, Admiral of the Belayarusian Pacific Fleet. Then Aleksey Shishkin, head of the SVR (Foreign Intelligence Service). Then Kiril Yeremenko, Minister of Foreign Affairs. Then Leonid Chuikov, Minister of Defense. Finally, General Dimitriy Grechko, Chief of the General Staff. All of the men were neatly dressed in either expensive suit & tie, or their daily uniform, according to their role. Then there's another two men, who are President Yevgeny Volodin's personal advisors.

    The total of eight Belayarusian high ranks, including the President sat around the round meeting table.
    "I believe, you all already knew what this is all about..." Volodin paused for a while, before continuing
    "Aleksey, please, brief us about the situation." He ordered the head of the SVR.
    "The region of Babar Islands, a chain of Islands consisting of three main states, the Damar Sultanate, Sunda Republlic and the Republic of Alor Islands. This very region has been ravaged by civil war, and numerous conflicts. In the present day, the region has seen the new rise of a group, the Ecopirates. Led by Jacques Sparrow, or better known as 'Captain Whalelord'. He heads an environmentalist, terrorist group, that aims to destroy everything it deems harming the environment, and yes, this includes raiding and hijacking fishing and trading vessels. This is why we are here today." Aleksey Shishkin stopped, before being cut by Kiril Yeremenko, the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
    "The Sunda Republic, led by President Kusuma Raharjo has been one of our biggest trade partners in the region so far, in which our goods come from the trade vessels. However, the Sunda Republic has proven itself to be highly unstable, with multiple rebel groups, local militias and now, the pirates. We also shouldn't forget that its neighbouring State, the Alor Islands has illegally occupied a piece of Sundanese lands." Kiril stopped.
    "Obviously, we have received numerous intelligence reports that the Alor Islands, both its people and its government might be supporting the Eco Pirates and might even be supporting them. We also know that the Alor Islands has always been in a conflict with the Sundanese Republic, and in this case, they might even use the pirates to further destabilize the Sundanese standing in the region. Also, not to forget, I have received words that earlier today, a Nifonese cargo ship, the Kobayashi Maru has been hijacked by Jacques Sparrow's group. " President Volodin stopped.
    "Thus, in that case, I need our Pacific Fleet to move in towards the Babar Islands in order to protect our trade and fishing vessels. In that case, we'll have to inform the Sundanese government about our ship's arrival and our intention to cooperate with them for the greater good. Besides, if we can persuade the Sundanese government that we cooperate with them in terms of regional security against Alor Islands and of course, the pirates, in turn, we might as well get access to their resources and also more successful trades in the future. Thus, we will make an official statement to the press, and also, we shall contact the Sundanese. I think that should wrap up our meeting today. Dismissed." The President continued. After a while, the men nodded to each other as they left the building.

    Image
    Official Communique |Официальное Kоммюнике
    Republic of Belayarusia | Республика Белаярус

    OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT



    Addressed to: President Kusuma Raharjo, Sunda Republic
    ENC: -


    Dear sir,
    The Republic of Belayarusia understands how dire the situation is in the Sundanese Republic with the recent threats of Eco Pirates in the region of Babar Islands. We also acknowledge the level of threat that this organization, headed by Jacques Sparrow, posses to your state's trade and fishing industry. It is important to note that the Republic of Belayarusia has been a long time trade partner of the Sunda Republic and until this day, our vessels still sails from your country to its destination, in which it has to go through the Babar Island chain, infested by pirates. With that being said, we are requesting your permission, as the President of the Sunda Republic for a part of our Pacific Fleet, the Surface Combat Group, to enter your waters, including your Exclusive Economic Zone temporarily in order to both assist your Naval Forces in combating the Pirates as well as to protect our own vessels. Our Navy ships shall remain in your waters until the situation is resolved. We hope that this cooperation can result in a closes Belayarusian-Sundanese bilateral ties. We sincerely hope that you consider our request seriously before the situation gets worse.





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Flauc
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Ex-Nation

Postby Flauc » Wed Jan 04, 2017 10:11 am

WELCOME TO SUNDA


Image


The Sunda Republic. A beautiful nation, but perhaps it has a tragic story. With it's numerous problems, it might never achieve the success it could have had, with nations such as Alor and the Damar achieving prosperity. Shady deals and corruption is a common occurrence in the political life of Sunda.

Gaining independence in 1949 from the colonial powers that ruled over it, the nation showed promise. Few months after independence, problems began arising and became more serious. Truth was, the government was unable to establish control anywhere other than large cities. Rural areas were at the mercy of gangs and insurgent groups which saw huge potential for the black market and other illegal activities in Sunda. Because of the colonization by multiple colonial powers in the past, there were many colors, so to say, in the Sunda Republic, which increased tension between people. Along with it's numerous ethnicities came ethnic conflicts, as one ethnicity condemned the other of a monopoly over the state or region, and that it was oppressing the other ethnicity. As such, ethnicities formed militia groups to fight it out with violence.

Gaining independence in 1949 through violent means to break free from it's colonial powers, the multiple militias which expanded over the whole political spectrum and were previously fighting for freedom, broke into conflict with it's previous allies in the fight for independence, and began fighting in between for power. The interim government failed to enforce any demilitarization of these militia groups, and leftists fought against rightists and vice versa. Calls for peace from the government were ignored, as it itself was powerless to stop the militia groups from fighting.

Following elections in the country in late 1949, nothing changed in Sunda. The fighting between militia groups still resumed, the government remained powerless. Itself, the military would have possibly been capable to stop the insurgents, but it was largely fractured and commanders often went rogue or had their soldiers go rogue in order to secure food and other items for their families, often attacking civilians themselves.

The situation was worsened by people using their positions in the government to make some money by selling government weapons or making shady deals with the insurgent groups in exchange for money or some other sort of material compensation, with the government not willing to punish those who did so.

However, in 1967, General Sriwidadi, with the backing of some militia groups and the military, conducted a military coup d' etat, taking control of the countries' capital, Padang Sidempuan. While not officially a coup, it is clearly one, as General Sriwidadi forced the incumbent government to resign and form an interim government which was filled with the allies of Sriwidadi. Formally, General Sriwidadi allowed elections to occur once again in 1970, three years after his coup, though it was clear to foreign observers that the elections were not fair, and that only the puppets of Sriwidadi could run.

Sriwidadi himself attempted to unify the nation and tried to destroy the other militia groups which were not allied with him and did not support him. However, this was not very effective, as corruption and equipment problems still plagued the Armed Forces, which were outdated and haven't been upgraded since the country gained it's independence, the military still using even equipment left over by it's colonial masters. Land constantly changes control, between government forces and militias.
Warlords control territories in Sunda and do their best to make profit off their land, co operating with those who can help them, sometimes even betraying their former allies in exchange to ally with new ones. These warlords also fight with other warlords, aiming to gain more territory to exploit. Supported by their small militaries, they manage to put up a fight against government forces, which sometimes attempt to retake territory, but are rarely successful in their attempts. With warlords fighting it out, the infrastructure of Sunda is in a dire state, requiring repair and modernization. However, in a failed state, there is not enough money, nor control to do that.

Other countries, such as the Damar Sultanate and Alor Island, seeing weakness in the new Sunda Republic, declared their non-aggression treaties void and occupied territories and annexed them in order to gain resources that the government of the Sunda Republic failed to utilize either way. The Damar Sultanate, an Muslim country, aimed to unify with Muslim minorities in Sunda, and in 1989, a military offensive against the weak militias backing Sriwidadi and military of Sunda, was successful in annexing territory from the Sunda Republic.

The Alor Island has, since 1950, occupied territory that is, officially, Sundanese land. Despite Sundanese government protest to the occupation, the Alor Island has not left the territory it has occupied. However, the Alor Island has given stability and order, as well as somewhat prosperity to the land it occupies, as it is almost as advanced as the rest of the Alor Island, being integrated and such.

What became more worrying was the worsening health of General Sriwidadi in 2014, as he became too weak and was unable to run the nation. Sriwidadi designated General Susilo, a promising General of the Sundanese Armed Forces, being able to conduct multiple successful offensives against warlords in the nation. News of the health of Sriwidadi are suppressed, and some even speculate that Sriwidadi might have died.

General Susilo, aiming to gain revenue from foreign powers and to maybe modernize his military, began co operating with larger powers and let foreign companies exploit his land. Increasing poverty was not good for the government of Susilo, but if he had a powerful military, he could crush any attempts to overthrow his rule, at least in the capital and the largest cities. With the population poor and unemployed, there was not much incentive to stay in the line of the law and to not cause trouble for the government.

Following the creation of GreenWar, it's popularity quickly surpassed other militia groups. It's members were mostly pro-enviornmentalists or those who wanted to get rid of foreign powers and companies, which in their views, were destroying Sunda. Without that, they could also gain some money from the ships they could capture and people they could ransom off. It was much better than being unemployed and poor in Sunda.

In the eyes of the government and Susilo, it did not care much about GreenWar, as long as it wouldn't start hitting the source of income for Susilo and Sunda Republic itself - international waters. However, Susilo also saw international attention as a good thing, perhaps international powers could help him unify his nation and solidify power. Though Susilo won't try to raise alarms of GreenWar yet - if international powers want GreenWar gone, they will need to raise their own alarms, and will, if Susilo can convince them, need to give something in return.

REPUBLIC OF SUNDA
OFFICE OF PRESIDENT KUSUMA RAHARJO
TO THE GOVERNMENT OF BELAYARUSIA



We agree that the recent events in the waters of the Babar Islands are concerning, however, we believe the hijacking of one ship is not a reason to raise such a high concern over a small, isolated incident. While we certainly condemn the terrorist organization known as "GreenWar", we do not believe it is big enough to pose a threat to a lot of shipping as the moment. We will try our best to eliminate the terrorists from our territorial waters, however, your help is much appreciated, as our forces are quite outdated and could use upgrading.

The government of Sunda approves of your request to use parts of your Pacific Fleet to assist the Sundanese Navy to police the waters of the Sunda Republic and to escort your own vessels. We hope for a fruitful and great relationship with your nation in the times to come.
Last edited by Flauc on Wed Jan 04, 2017 10:12 am, edited 1 time in total.
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The Selkie
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Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby The Selkie » Fri Jan 06, 2017 6:05 am

New Aeyariss wrote:*** Fujian: Imperial Nifonese Navy General Staff:

The darkness slowly filled the room, diminishing the light as the projector activated, casting a series of images on the bright white wall, itself merely a single source of dim light in the room. Here, deep underground of Kaigun General Staff building, light reached very sparsely, and only when it was desperately needed. Just after the news of the pirate capture of the Nifonese shipping vessel reached this building, an order came on hot line from Ishikawa to form a crisis reaction staff to deal with the situation and give pirates a simple, easy to understand lesson of what happens when you choose to mess with the Nifonese. Today, just several hours after the incident, a recently formed CRS under command of Adm. Matsuoka Hiroshi was formed and instantly headed to work over the incident. They could not have gotten a better leader - Admiral Matsuoka was one of well versed persons in issues of piracy Kaigun could have put in charge, having already led a campaign of similar nature in Southern Furukuran sea. Although receiving far less media coverage than the "four tygers" such as Mizushima or Kobayashi, Matsuoka still had a degree of myth surrounding him - this short officer with square like face, raven dark hair, a pair of pointy, small eyes was rarely seen in public, kept secluded life of religious meditation and attributed his victories to the "heavenly father" rather than to himself. Nerveless, apart from that, Admiral Hiroshi possessed firm and strong character with enough charisma to inspire unending loyalty in his followers.

"I think we all know why we are here so I will skip the pleasantries" Matsuoka was always very laconic in his speech - never had a word been any different than shortest way to present information possible "Today at 23.05 Ishikawa time the transponder of Kobayashi Maru changed it's course in unexpected way before it's transponder stopped functioning. The ship subsequently vanished after last known position of 544* North and 341 * East **. The ship was carrying computers & electronic components headed for Riysa. Several hours later, this video appeared everywhere."

The Admiral quickly switched slide and played the recently obtained by Tokkeitai video of proclamation from Captain Whalelord. Although the very room the meeting was being held in was filled with hardened sea wolves that survived plenty of maritime battles, it quickly filled with an uneasy atmosphere. Nifonese were known to lack individualistic attitude of Western societies, partially by extremely strong family ties; now several husbands, sons and brothers were imprisoned by maritime bandits whose sole justification for those acts was protection of the environment. Like those men had no families on their own to feed.

"Tokkeitai identified the kunshi on the video as Jaques Sparrow, codename "Captain Whalelord", well known to Nifonese intelligence services" the Admiral's face, no matter how the grim situation was, always remained calm "Real name unknown as well as the age, Tokkeitai suspects Selikean origin of this individual. His date of arrival to the Babar islands is unknown, but first attack was carried over a year ago. He commands a wokou gang equipped in at least five mother ships, several smaller skiffs and possible access to older generation anti-ship equipment. His pirates are well funded from ransoms collected from the hijacked ships, well trained and highly motivated ideologically by mixture of radical environmentalism and anti-capitalism. To confirm that he was the one who kidnapped the freighter, he signed it with his own fingerprint as well as several others which Tokkeitai believe are matching those of Nifonese crew members according to national fingerprint database.

The admiral switched the slide again, showing the layout of Archar islands:

"Sparrow-san is believed to be operating out of Archar islands, although his ships are confirmed to be operating on far more extended range. We have currently no information on the crew's situation, but we believe that Sparrow has no interest in doing them any harm. He after all needs a way to finance his operations, and without hostages, he is useless. Now that we know the situation, here are your orders."

Te admiral turned to the first officer, sitting at the corner. He was visibly younger than the rest, about his early 40s- and scar covered face differed him from the rest of well ordained men of the Kaigun:

"Katsurou-shōshō" he addressed Rear Admiral Sasaki Katsorou, Tokkeitai liaison "You will launch an official investigation into the situation, attempting to gather information about strength, disposition and location of our foe."

"HAI TAISHOU!" shouted the Intelligence officer. Finally he had something to do.

"Minoru-taisa" next to be addressed was the cyberwarfare commander "Pirates given you an account. Dig me into it in cooperation with Katsurou-shōshō and rely to him any useful information you will find."

Another "HAI TAISHOU!" filled the room.

"Ryunosuke-taisa" the final gaze of the three star admiral was turned onto Commodore Watanabe Ryunosuke, coming from kaigun special warfare branch "Kojiro tono-ue ordered blood to be spilled for that incident. Get kurosame into combat readiness."

"Kurosame, Hiroshi-taishou?" As much as Watanabe was surprised by this question, he was very happy that his underlings will get a chance to finally taste some blood. After all, Kurosame meant "Black Shark" - and everyone knew how sharp teeth the sharks of Kaigun had.

"Yes, Ryunosuke - taisa. I am not going to play with this dishonorable gaijin wokou any game of cat and mouse. He, and rest of his dishonorable kin, will once for all learn their place. Honor demands it. Everyone clear?"

"HAI!"

"This session is closed. Report to me every four hours."

As Commodore Watanabe Ryunosuke left the room, he could not stop dreaming of the coming events..


The Terra Promessa, originally known as Kobayashi Maru, was docked at one of the Achar Islands' smaller ports, where the SDF came to every other week to see, if there were any major problems, being unloaded.
Computers and electronic components from Nifon for Riysa - Nifonese electronics were good, those for a friend better, Sparrow hoped. Some of them would be kept for own use, they could always use such stuff, but most of it would be sold or gifted to those, who needed them.
The major point of it was hearts and minds: If they could help the people around them, they would win their hearts and minds over, which would be more worth then any millions and billions of NSD. Many did not understand that, as it was easier to simply bomb a place into oblivion and be done with it - that such 'support' to governments did not end with all having an happily ever after, unlike what media usually tried to call the result.
The Achar Islands Constabulary understood that, mostly, at least, and while they used their heavy machinery whenever there was the need for it, they simply lacked the ressources for more. Development aid from the Free Lands and investments of their companies could be better as well, all in all creating a climate of 'We don't like each other, but we don't want to kill them either.'
If one knew the right persons or had the sums to do it, there could be entire freighters vanishing within a few days.
And that was the plan, which there was: Unload the freighter in the cover of a dock, get the load away and then see, what to do with the vessel itself. It was a Nifonese freighter, so there were many options.
Their fence would be happy about the containers that were.
Meanwhile, the crew was brough away to a safe hideout a bit more inland, nobody seeing anything. There, they would be met with hospitality, if a bit of a frozen one and within the confines of them being indeed prisoners, but hospitality and good treatment nonetheless. Sparrow planned to have dinner with the Maru's Captain at some point, but that could wait.
As it was, there was only one thing he needed: The message from his bank, that his money has been paid.
He was not stupid, so it was both a new account and a number account, the messages going to a post-office box in Leuda itself, which was maintained by a friend, who used it for different purposes. That, and his bank had another distinctive advantage: There were no computer systems to hack. All personal information, all account information and everything remotely interesting was written on paper and stored on paper down in the archive rooms in the basement, right next to the safe.
The Niffies would have their sweet time to get a even small scrap of information as they would need a judical writ for such a thing - and getting one of those was not as easy as TV made it look like, especially not in Leuda, who's judges had the tendency to be very strict about such matters. Sparrow simply hoped, that the Niffies were not dishonourable enough to try and steal the stuff.
Even if the ransom was not paid, though, Sparrow would not kill his hostages. He was no senseless murderer, all killed people so far served a purpose - one, which the Niffies would most definately not agree to, but that was not his problem.
And so, they went to work again.

From the journal of Commander Gavin Bagrach of the Tribe of Westmeath.
    So... the Achar Islands. Reminds me of the Archipelago.
    As someone only standing in for the actual commanding officer of 6th PGS, I am pleasantly surprised by the area. Not so much by its inhabitants, though.
    Piracy has been little of a problem in the waters of the Free Lands, but with the Constabulary still in operation as a humanitarian mission and pirates operating basically in front of our porch, we need to step up the game quite a bit, if we don't want to loose any credebility - where we are at the problem. I have five patrol boats and a fleet oiler, not exactly a force to end all piracy. We lack the ressources to do something against the problem in earnest.
    And now, that several freighters have been attacked, the odds go even more against us as international intervention forces come waltzing in, upsetting this fragile balance we have here.
    It could have been so easy... For now, we will focus on keeping the waters around our own islands safe and secure, so that any ship fearing an attack has a safe haven here. Meanwhile, we start to hope, that maybe we can get our hands on reinforcements, which would help us in curb-stomping the piracy in this area quite effectively.
    And its not only piracy, which is the problem, by the way...
    Let's get to it.
I play PT, MT and a bit FT. I am into character-RPs.
My people are called the Selkie, the nation is usually called the Free Lands in MT-settings. Thanks.

Silverport Dockyards Ltd.: Storefront - Catalogue

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Guadalupador
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Founded: Oct 08, 2011
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Guadalupador » Mon Jan 09, 2017 2:24 pm

Along a deserted beach two men walked along, taking in the fresh island breeze. Manco Supire and Louis Lagat had been through a lot together, the two met while serving in the Guadalupadorian Federal Navy, and were honorably discharged around the time Trigra's coup took place and the events that would divide Guadalupador started to unfold. In the two years after, the two joined up for a short-term contract with Pieuvre Arnament, a PMC based in Guadalupador. After that had finished, Lagat and Supire found themselves involved with a group of fellow former Dorian servicemen, angry and spiteful about the division of Guadalupador. From then on, the two kept in contact with the group and started to think about what direction to take in life. With no home to return to, Lagat and Supire decided that they would make a living themselves. The two gathered as much money as they could and went underground, gathering those likeminded former servicemen with the promises of riches to send back to their relatives in the Motherland. With enough manpower and weapons flowing around they set up their base of operations in the Babar Islands, a hotbed of piracy and anarchy.

In order to fit in with the local groups, and not to cause any unneeded tensions, Lagat and Supire declared that their group, The Sons and Daughters of the Waves, was an "ecological defense group" though everybody on the ground within the organization didn't believe in much beside the allure of fame and booty. At first the EDG numbered around nine individuals, but in the past 8 months that it had been active its numbers had increased at a near breakneck speed to over eight dozen through a covert recruitment campaign among poor, and out of work former servicemen in the Principality of Simendosa. Now the Sons and Daughters of the Waves were ready to take on larger targets traveling through the Babar Islands.

As soon as the two got back to their base, their pirates were bouncing off the walls talking about a valuable shipment heading on through: Montana Inc.'s Merchant Convoy. The radio operator listening in on the naval channels over shortwave radio seemed to confirm the movement. Lagat and Supire obviously gave the move, and told their pirates to start up their fast little motorized skiffs. Other rumors had been stirring that a Commoner merchant vessel was also making the rounds in their waters, but had yet to have been confirmed. Supire noted that bit would give some of the pirates a bit of catharsis to raid such a vessel as many within the group would see it as retaliation against SACTO atrocities committed against Guadalupador and her people. Lagat nodded before giving some more thought on the matter.

Meanwhile along the deserted beach, a group of 7 armed skiffs with KPV 14.5 mm machine guns, and two armed with a jerry-rigged missile system, driven by 25 men armed with AK-74s, RPKs, and RPG-30s sped off toward the supposed location of Montana Incorporated's vessels. It was a quiet night out on the water, as the pirates searched for their quarry. Within an hour, they spotted the familiar lights of freight ships moving in a convoy. There were about six from what they could see, the pirates only needed to take one of them over for the mission to be a success, but if another could be taken, it would be optimal. Over the pirate's radio channel, the order was given to swoop in.

As the small group inched closer, a series of CIWS systems could be spotted aboard the ships. With how close they were going to be to the freighters, the array wouldn't be that effective, if at all. At full speed the skiffs started to their charge, weaving around one another in a race toward the convoy. The pirates started firing the 14.5 mm guns on-board their skiffs downrange at the convoy, while the men on-board fired off their RPKs above the top decks of a few. As soon as the group got close enough they started to weave in and around the freighters, firing off their weapons. The leader chose the leading vessel as their quarry, and yelled through a megaphone in Dorian: "We are the Sons and Daughters of the Waves! Stop your vessel immediately and prepare to be boarded! We promise you no harm to come to you or your crew if you follow our directives!" Within seconds two skiffs pulled up next to the vessel and shot grappling hooks up toward the top deck. Boarding procedures had begun as the other skiffs swooped around the other ships, watching for activity.
Last edited by Guadalupador on Thu Feb 16, 2017 6:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Guadalupadorian Embassy Program
Proud Member of the INTERNATIONAL FREEDOM COALITION!
OOC: Call me Dorian, Dor or Guad.

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Common Territories
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Founded: Nov 08, 2011
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Common Territories » Tue Jan 10, 2017 12:13 pm

Everhart Island, Pascal Archipelago
Imperial Navy Command Center, Naval Station Pascal


Pascal Archipelago. An island chain known for its tropical climate which rests in a sea rich with maritime activity; everything from small fishing boats to large container ships utilize the sea around Pascal. The island chain is better known internationally as the largest naval station in the Babar Islands region - though some internationally refer to Pascal Archipelago as an occupied territory, however. Commoners recognize the small island chain as one of the largest military districts and naval bases outside the Empire's mainland; Pascal was one of the first colonial holdings the Empire took over during the seventeenth century - it acted as a major stepping stone for future expansion internationally for TECT. Locals of the Babar Islands region typically view Pascal Archipelago as a major bane to their identity - an island chain they consider occupied territory, ruled by a malevolent foreign empire that refuses to hand them back to natives. The debate still rages to this day on who legitimately owns Pascal Archipelago, although the TECT Government has made it perfectly clear what the TECT stance is concerning sovereignty over the islands - "We're here to stay. Get used to it." Regardless of who you speak with, Pascal Archipelago remains a fiery debate topic to this very day. The fact remains that many people call these islands home; this includes the major Imperial Navy fleet stationed there, the 14th Royal Guard Marine Division stationed on the islands ready to deploy on moments notice, several aircraft wings from both the Imperial Navy and Royal Guard, a varying number of special forces units awaiting the call to action, and the families of many of those stationed at Naval Station Pascal. Everyone else is either a native of Pascal Archipelago, those who got clearance to habitat the island, and some brief visitors here and there who need to dock for supplies or something. What's left of the native population has long been integrated with Commoners, though the untainted bloodline community find themselves now in the minority in their ancestral homeland.

If you speak to people who've never been to Pascal Archipelago, most of those people probably imagine a tropical paradise with clear blue water, warm weather kissed upon by cool ocean breezes, and tropical vegetation stretching to the beaches. On Pascal Archipelago, things are a little bit different compared to what the media has fabricated or the boundless rumors talk about; the most popular rumor referrers to Pascal Archipelago as a dream deployment for anyone joining the military since it's some hidden away tropical paradise. If you think Pascal Archipelago is an ideal tourist location, you'd be mistaken. Although warm and breezy, Pascal Archipelago isn't home to long stretches of sandy beaches or vast tropical jungles hinted to by incorrect rumors. The Imperial Navy has spent the past two centuries developing the island chain into one big naval station; docks, dry docks, and piers now outnumber the few beaches left throughout Pascal Archipelago. Few jungles are left on the island - mostly replaced with structures, military or civilian based, and the few farming acres dispersed throughout the archipelago. The remaining space is occupied by military installations, airstrips, storage facilities, barracks, and the small civilian infrastructure throughout the island. Nature isn't dead and pollution isn't an issue, but it's clear civilization has beaten back mother nature with an industrial sized fist. Civilians, including the native communities and the families of stationed service members, make up a sizeable chunk of the island chain's population. It's similar to any other domestic military base in TECT in terms of living standards - you follow military law instead of State or Imperial, you can own and operate your own small businesses, and troops can live normally with their family members most of the time. So it's not technically incorrect that Pascal Archipelago isn't a nice place to be stationed at, but it's not as illustrious as some make it out to be. Though unusual to many, locals living in Pascal Archipelago are very familiar with the military operations and culture going on around them; uniformed soldiers from different branches everywhere, aircraft flying and taking off at any given time, day or night, seeing ground vehicles parked or on the move, and the always beautiful sight of seeing warships of varying scale sailing close to shore. Dangers to Pascal Archipelago exist around every corner, however. Everyone likes to keep such fearful thoughts buried deep in the back of their minds, but find any regional security event alarming; dark thoughts like "This place can come under attack at any moment for political reasons. Nations local and international stand for 'liberation' of Pascal - terrorists and pirates among their ranks..." or "Piracy could become even more dangerous, cutting off our life line and even attacking us in our homes..." always haunt the military families and civilians living in Pascal Archipelago.

Security threats like piracy have always haunted the minds of civilians working in the Barbar Islands. The region is infamous internationally for the rotting plague known as piracy. Failed states, such as the Sunda Republic, are hotbeds of terrorism and piracy; the terrible economic situation and easy to manipulate political atmosphere essentially creates a community of extremists, desperate deplorables, and other such radical elements vying for power. Terrorist groups, pirates, militias, protesters, the number of radical factions squirming throughout the Barbar Islands was practically endless. You can't exclude the governments in Barbar either; governments like the Sunda Republic actively support their radical elements if they themselves aren't participating in extremism. It's no big secret that totalitarianism and quasi-dictatorships are the main form of government in the Barbar Islands. If the governments of the Barbar Islands refuse to enact change or they actively support extremism, how can you expect their populations to lead productive healthy lives? You can't expect the impossible, unfortunately. TECT knows this reality all to well, which is why the Empire makes it clear that it wont address the impossibilities in the Barbar Islands. "Shake the hand of a gleaming rat and you run the risk of their filth, ailments, and deplorability rubbing off on you." Or so said the Emperor after an official visit to Naval Station Pascal in early 2016.

It were quotes like the Emperor made earlier last year that helped shape Admiral Joachim Armbrüster's own opinion on the Barbar Islands - such opinions were the result of strict policies encompassing Naval Station Pascal and the Barbar Islands region, set forth by the Emperor and commanders in the TECT Armed Forces. Admiral Armbrüster is the commanding officer of Naval Station Pascal, meaning he's also the de facto Governor of the small island chain because of its status as a Military District - such a position also makes him the commanding officer for TECT forces in the entirety of the Barbar Islands region. As a stern and bitter old man, the fifty-two year old Admiral was a no nonsense, no horseshit, kind of commander. The true embodiment of career long Imperial Naval officers, Armbrüster took no nonsense from his staff, men under his command, and especially didn't take lip from foreigners, enemy or allied; he was the kind of man who'd hear your bullshit in contempt, describe to you what you're doing wrong with great detail, and tell you to fix whatever your malfunction was - often with parting words of encouragement like, "You don't want me to have to come over there and show you how to do your job." This no nonsense taking bitter old man was born to a large, very controlling, family in Southern Adler State. Armbrüster's family has run a restaurant business for the past two generations prior to his birth, so he was naturally thrown into the culinary world at a very young age; Armbrüster's strict and controlling parents forced him to work in the restaurant from the front of the house to the kitchen. Regardless if he was busing tables, taking orders, or cooking on the line in the kitchen, young Armbrüster spent most of his time working in the restaurant. The only time young Armbrüster didn't work was when he was attending school during the day, or, was asleep late at night after working - his parents didn't even pay young Armbrüster until he was eighteen, and even then that was barely enough for his own expenses as an adult. Their reasoning behind the strict lifestyle and zero pay? "It's a good life lesson. Besides, your help keeps this business alive and you fed as it is - you'll understand when you take over the restaurant." A year later, at nineteen, young Armbrüster left home using the quickest method he possibly could - enlisting into the military. Ironic since he was escaping one controlling environment for another, but anything was better then the toxic restaurant that was his Hell of a home growing up - his parents were delusional if they honestly believed he'd inherit it. His younger siblings could take over the business easy enough so there was nothing to worry about, though Armbrüster felt some guilt abandoning his siblings so selfishly - "as an adult, however, some hard choices must be made", or so says the unofficial Armbrüster family creed... Armbrüster enjoyed the idea of sailing and wanted to avoid the grime of direct combat, so with that somewhat lackluster resolve, he chose the Imperial Navy. Already a discipline instilled individual, basic training was a breeze. After spending his first year at sea as a cook (a job he grudgingly took since it's what he's best at), he soon realized he couldn't escape the controlling and strict personality his parents instilled in him from an early age; the simple mistakes, the laziness, even slacking off from fellow crew drove him up a wall - when officers acted that way, Armbrüster wanted to destroy his voice in a loud fit of criticism. Such behavior, especially to officers, was asking for trouble, or even worse, disciplinary action; though officers enjoyed the right to criticize and hand out orders when they felt up to it - some kind of behavior officer training left behind maybe? It suddenly hit Armbrüster then and there what he should do: Officer School. It didn't take long before Armbrüster became a commanding officer aboard some destroyer, then the captain of a cruiser, next a Rear Admiral presiding over a fleet in some aircraft carrier, and now, many years later, he's an Admiral in charge of a major military district, its large fleet, and of an entire region's operations. By the time he reaches sixty, Armbrüster may become the next Chief Officer of the Imperial Navy, or even it's Secretary at this rate... Armbrüster sometimes looks back on his compulsive control filled history and thinks what he could have done differently, possibly caused by the affect aging has on ones humility; among the many regrets Armbrüster shoulders is not introducing his children or his grandchildren to his own parents, his hometown included. The many years it took after leaving home to enjoy cooking once again has also burdened him this past decade. One of these days he'll have to visit that home he ran away from so many decades ago, if the rest of his family were still around he could show off the family he's built himself, and of course some of the perks of being a high ranking Imperial Navy officer. But that's a story for another time...

It was still very early in the morning when Admiral Armbrüster received an urgent call from the Pascal Regional Command Center (PRCC); the PRCC was the command facility for all TECT military forces in the region, hosting many planning, communications, and command tools - the Admiral and other high tiered commanders typically worked from this facility. It was still three in the morning local time when the direct landline call woke up the Admiral and presumably others residing in the home. His wife, Alida, was likely woken up for sure. The Admiral preferred the direct line over the other methods of communication at his disposal, so staff were instructed to call using that line first before anything else; it was secure, he was old fashioned and set in his ways when it was still viable, and when that ringing from the few landline phones in the house went off, everyone knew it was an important PRCC call. Armbrüster spent about a full minute on the phone, only exchanging a "Yes" or "Understood" a few times. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed listening patiently to the person on the other end. He hung up the phone and like a practiced choreographed dance, got up, stepped over to the nearby closet, and grabbed one of the few military suits he already had prepared before swiftly making his way into the master bathroom; all he had to do was quickly brush his teeth, fix his hair, and shave - a career Imperial Navy sailor could do these three things in a hurry within five minutes or less. Alida, who was indeed awoken by the call, sat up in bed with a concerned expression on her face. She was now staring towards the illuminated master bathroom, though her eyes were still sensitive from sleeping only moments ago, so she had trouble making out much of what was going on inside the bathroom. "Is it serious?" she asked, still tired after waking up only moments ago. Being suddenly woken up by late night calls wasn't a new thing for Alida, but the concern she had over them never seemed to vanish. "You spent shorter than usual on the line this time around..."

"I don't think it's serious, Dear." responded Joachim, still out of sight inside the master bathroom. "There's been some regional incident and PRCC staff requested a full briefing session and my orders as soon as possible. Though it could have waited a few hours, best not to keep things delayed even though things didn't sound too bad based on what I was briefly told by the person on night watch. The Ministry at home also dispatched related intelligence, so im assuming they'll want to hear back from us as soon as possible - God forbid a meeting with bosses at home too. It's going to be busy today, I can just feel it..."

"It doesn't sound like it's not serious... Are you sure everything is alright?" Alida had a worrying tone to her concern. The last time she heard the Armed Forces Ministry sending intelligence was during regional fighting decades ago, though obviously Joachim hadn't told her about more recent ones that arrive on a regular basis. He knew she worried a lot, especially when it came to security, so he rarely dug deep into detail about work. This morning was a bit of a slip-up for him in that regard. Telling her too much information was also a military law concern he had to be weary of, which was considerably hard since he's never been the type of person to be very secretive or to lie. If he wasn't in such an important figure or careful, he may have gotten a bit of lip for telling her what information he spilled already just now. If it were someone under Joachim, he'd have for sure chewed out the officer who had loose lips. He'll have to try harder next time for both their sake.

"Don't worry." Joachim had finally appeared from the bathroom, freshly shaven and fully dressed. "If things turn sour, I'll be sure to send you and the kids' families to safety."

"That's not all I worry about! I care about your safety and the safety of this island too!"

"I understand I..." a loud horn interrupted Joachim. It was clearly from a car who honked twice in quick succession, alerting the home that he had arrived. "The car's already here... Anyways, dear, I wont let this place or its people come to harm - not even you could stop me from doing all in my power to protect us all."

Alida was left speechless. Not a single retort could come to mind even though she wanted to make one so desperately.

"I'll be sure to call the house phone once I get time to let you know how things turn out. Go back to bed and get some rest." and with that, Admiral Armbrüster left the room, quietly attempting to close the door behind him. His steps could barely be heard as he made his way down the nearby stairs and into their entry hall, every step echoed as if they lived in a cave. The front door opened and closed in a similarly quiet manner, even their three German Shepherds barely reacted to the early morning noise.

After a brief exchange of salutes to the tired Military Policemen acting as the Admiral's privet chauffeur, the Admiral took his seat in the back of the Fuchs that was the MP's cruiser and spent the twenty minute drive just trying to stay awake; now that he was done rushing to get ready he could relax, but that relaxation allowed tiredness to creep back in, so it was a game of keeping the mind alert and not dozing off. Armbrüster fancied counting to a thousand in two's, if he hit a thousand he'd count backwards to zero too; he heard from a Royal Guard Marine sniper that they learn to do this to keep their brains active and alert during the down time of their missions. If he could, however, Armbrüster would methodically think over plans he had in the future to help keep himself awake and interested; for example, he would think over and plan what was going to happen that day at the office - it at least helped him pass time and think over challenging topics. Two checkpoints later, the car arrived at the staff entrance around the back of the building; Armbrüster slipped the young soldier a twenty Imperial Dollar bill as 'tip' for doing such an offbeat job - though the young man refused to take it, Armbrüster eventually persuaded him to accept the hospitality in the end - "Refusing a kind hand warrants ill will.", or so he grew up hearing as a child. He wasn't even one step into the security checkpoint room before being met by Vice Admiral Kolman Ebner; the slightly younger Imperial Navy officer was just as nicely dressed in his dress uniform filled to the brim with decorations, but he didn't bother trying to hide what was clearly a tired and grumpy attitude written all over his face. He didn't enjoy waking up so early in the morning and having to get dressed up at such an age. Ebner was reaching that age where having to run to an emergency was harder on him physically as it was mentally; he kept a short cut of hair but maintained a luscious beard he's been maintaining for over two decades - both of which were graying at an alarming rate from his natural brown hair. Although younger by only a few years, Ebner felt his age more so than Admiral Armbrüster who was very active in his even in his fifties, often fishing, boating, or running around with his family - and this doesn't account for his time serving the Empire, inspecting ships, taking jogs with service members, and other duties he holds as a leader to so many service members. Maybe it was the stresses of the job, maybe it was just the drive to finally retire and enjoy the rest of his life in peace, many things could be at play as to the cause of his growing pains; but Ebner wanted to reach the rank of Admiral before he retires, so he may have to tough it out another few years before he can entertain the idea of retiring. At worst, he may have to outlive his boss, Admiral Armbrüster, or at least survive (metaphorically speaking) till the Admiral's career finally ends. "Morning Admiral. Lets hurry." the man was clearly in a rush to get their work day started already.

"After im done with the security check, Vice Admiral. Rules are rules." retorted Armbrüster, submitting himself to the military police at the checkpoint who would have just let them go on ahead probably if he had willed it; they almost blended into the background of the room when standing besides two high ranking officers. Ebner was displeased but knew he couldn't fight the Admiral, especially when it came to rules. So after a brief scan, metal/chemical check, and search, Armbrüster made his way through the fogged sliding security doors where Ebner and a few other staff awaited him. "Everyone else is already in Meeting Room One besides us. So we'll be heading there first." Ebner began as he lead the small group through the slightly crowded hallway - the workday began a few hours early it seemed.

"We're not heading to the CIC (Combat Information Center) first?" Armbrüster asked curious of the reason why.

"The issue isn't a crisis nor an urgent matter, so the meeting room is the natural choice."

No arguments here then. This had better be serious though. Not only did you worry my wife, but my kids' families will be disappointed if my excuse to them for not going on our planned fishing outing was 'nothing serious'. This was supposed to be a free day for me after all."

Minutes later, the group arrived at Meeting Room One; a meeting room close to the offices of the commanding officers who worked from the PRCC, it was a simple meeting room with a large rectangular conference table made of finished oak, some lavish touches like decorations and drink station, and some meeting room essentials like a fax machine and projector system. The projector sitting in the middle of the table was already on and projecting a map of the region; there were already some markings on it including circling locations, numbers and other symbols, and other miscellaneous additions to interactive map. Staff, including top officers such as Admiral Ferdinand Wendell, commander of the fleet stationed at Naval Station Pascal, were in attendance. Armbrüster sat at the tip of the table, typically where the top officer sat at any meeting; the first thing he noticed were two files placed in his space, one read "Kobayashi Maru Incident" and it wasn't thick, maybe a few pages at most. The second file, however, was considerably thick and labeled "Barbar Islands Intelligence"; it was a file he's read a number of times already, a file he's actually seen grow centimeters taller during his tenure as the region's commanding officer, but this file typically contained the last date it was updated with in the label. Date wise, the file stated it had been updated mere hours ago, meaning there was a brand new section to file. With Admiral Armbrüster finally present, the meeting could begin.

"Good morning everyone, and night to the rest of us soon enough." spoke up the only remaining person to be standing next to the projector screen. His name was Commander Emanuel Kraus, the commanding officer of the PRCC's night operations, otherwise known as the 'night watch' officer. The person in this position directs the PRCC's operations and maintains operations during nighttime hours; though he would normally be at home by now, the Commander would be held over in situations like this to brief the day staff and commanders who're called in at some point in the night. Commander Kraus was in his early forties, had short cut black hair, and a clean shaven face; Kraus was also well tanned and considerably handsome, facts that show he's a day person who oddly enough works at night.

"Commander." Armbrüster began. "Why does this intelligence report of the region have tabs stretching as far back as a few years prior to now? Im looking at them now and I don't remember these being part of the report I read less than a week ago." Armbrüster was thrown off to why the new information was there.

"You see, Admiral, this was the new intelligence report I briefly mentioned over the phone..." he was bracing himself internally for his next sentence, knowing it would irritate the Admiral. "It seems the Ministry of the Armed Forces held back some intelligence until now and has chosen to send us a completely updated version following our own intel report I am about to brief you all on relating to a recent situation."

"Are you serious? You're not joking with me now are you?" Armbrüster was almost visibly angry at the news.

"No... sir. I am not joking with you. Even I don't know why, but they sent back this updated file that they say had classified information gathered by FIS and CTTF that was left out in previous version stretching back about a year or two."

"And the Ministry said this? That they left out the information purposely until now?"

"Yes, Admiral. They didn't specify anything other than what and where the file was updated - it included our report hours prior to this file update as well. My best guess is that they didn't want to share information they considered a higher classification level than what you or the rest of us here have..."

Armbrüster was not only visibly angry at the fact the Ministry of the Armed Forces hid intelligence from him and his staff, it was as if the stress of that responsibility of that knowledge hit him like a tsunami. "This is unbelievable... Who knows what information was in there that was vital, how many threats we faced but didn't know about it, or even what regional events we needed to know of that passed by us by without notice." Armbrüster tossed the file onto the table in contempt of it and began to rub his face with both hands. "Why did they update the file now? What triggered them to do, Commander?"

"It's related to the incident if you would like to begin from there Admiral."

"Fine with me. Mite as well get this over with and catch up on intelligence leftover later." Armbrüster grabbed the smaller file, the incident report, and opened it up to read from. "You may proceed Commander."

"Right." Commander Kraus took the opportunity highlight previously made notes on the map. "Several hours ago, we estimate around midnight at the latest, a Nifonese freighter, the 'Kobayashi Maru', was taken over by pirates. Later on, a video by the group taking responsibility hit the internet. This video proclaimed their agenda, their reasoning, and demanded a ransom for the safe release of the crew. According to our own resources, we lost radar contact of the vessel after it passed close to our one-hundred kilometer territorial water boundary - it was also spotted by one of our Pelicans on their routine patrol route. The ship had a proper registration that seemed in order and its submitted route to our traffic control checked out too - so we had no further reason to suspect the vessel, we therefore left the vessel alone and did not dispatch any security forces. The ship did not seem to be within any danger at this time either. This pass-by was apparently a couple hours before the ship was taken over as it was passing through Sunda Republic waters."

"Okay, so they checked out. Why does it concern us now? Did Nifon make a SACTO related request of us for help?" Armbrüster asked while looking up from the report he was reading, noting down the points where the Commander mentioned in his opening of the report.

"The only reason we're discussing this matter here is because of the video and the update to the Intelligence file we received back - though the update I speak of is in regard to this incident itself. Near the end of the video, the group's leader, Jaques Sparrow, aka 'Captain Whalelord', made a specific demand that quote 'Additionally, the governments of the Common Territories and Nifon, as well as of the Selkie, are to retreat their troops back home to their own shores, away from the Babar Islands.' end quote. FSD found it pretty quickly social media and even our people found the video pretty quickly on local social media we keep observation on. So we can at this time confirm the identity of the individual and his group to be responsible for this act of piracy - which we've already added to our database you mite have read."

"Commander, I have several threats to my life on a near weekly basis as it is, this isn't news to me that such extremists are only interested in the conquest of the land we're standing on. What interests me is why I should be interested in specific groups like this. Mr. Whalelord im interested in admittedly since he's on our kill-or-capture list, but we all know we're fighting a war with pirates who work like ants, and safeguarding from the nations around us this region who'd prefer if our existence was snuffed out. I imagine this isn't the only reason he's brought up, correct? We wouldn't have had to have this early morning meeting otherwise."

"Well sir, you're on the right track. The brains back at home believe there's an active conspiracy right now to force us off these islands."

"No shit Commander. That's not news to any of us here. Armbrüster wasn't amused.

"Sorry sir. I meant to say they have reasons to believe the conspiracy now, or at least that there are a couple movements plotting such actions against us."

"Explain, Commander."

"One name explains a lot here sir, and that name is 'Amihan Russell'."

"Who? Wait. Isn't he that billionaire who invests in political campaigns against SACTO nations?" Armbrüster wasn't too familiar with the name besides a couple a reports where the name has shown up. He wasn't interested in politics, but he was aware of the fact the billionaire was funding enemies of the Empire due to reading some of the reports the name had been thrown around in. USF (Unified Special Forces) had been gathering intelligence on men like him for a while now. Though the first thing to come to mind was that Mr. Russell's home was bombed and succumbed to the damage caused by the terrorists from TECT - the first time Armbrüster could stomach praise for such filthy rats or their actions.

"Close, Admiral. Mr. Russell invests his fortune in far-left extremist endeavors mostly, including militant social justice warrior campaigns like the one we're about to discuss. He's one of the highest ranking targets for the USF to kill or capture too."

"So he's doing the same thing here? Funding militants and such?"

"Simply put? Yes. Intel suggests a new campaign of his is to fund 'Eco-terrorists'. The theory is is that he funds pirates, protests, terrorists, and anything in-between to go after commercial targets and targets that pose environmental harm according to their beliefs. This includes cargo vessels, fishing boats that hunt whales for example, oil platforms, and anything else they link to destroying the environment really."

"So what you're saying is is that this wanted billionaire is funding pirates and terrorists to go after civilian targets, including ours, to combat us for some ideological reason?"

"That's the short of it, yes."

"Okay. So this group is potentially being funded by that billionaire to inspire them to continue attacking civilians. I assume there's many groups that would be taking his money, yes?"

"Yes. Many could really be eco-terrorist inspired. But I honestly believe most would take the money and use it to boost their typical pirating operations. The risk against our own civilian vessels have also increased because of this plot. There's a high risk our Empire has specifically been named as a target by this billionaire to be attacked. So it's safe to say the risk of pirates coming closer to our waters, or even going after our shipping has increased considerably."

"Is there anything else to mention? Also. Where is the Kobayashi Maru and its crew now if we have that information?"

"At this moment, we believe the Kobayashi Maru is in the Achar Islands area. We mostly base this theory on the route it was taking at the time, it was passing near the islands, and the intelligence we do have that many pirate groups like 'Whalelord's' group use these islands as a safe haven. The 'peace keepers' from Selkie are there mostly for show if they aren't in fact profiting from their negligence. To address other threats outlined by this updated intelligence file, we believe one more piece of information needs highlighting. That would be the minority Guadalupador population in Barbar."

"What about them Commander?"

"This minority has been stirred up as of lately. Among the many pirate organizations targeting us, Guadalupador minorities in the region have especially become more inspired to commit acts against the Empire. They are becoming more militant and possibly view the tide as changing in their favor. According to the updated file, many harbor a view as seeking revenge against SACTO nations who they blame as the cause of their homeland's strife during the recent uprising. This means us, the sole SACTO member who has a presence here, is at the top of their list of targets. I personally believe they'll target our ships first over other SACTO member civilian shipping. There's even a chance they may target military vessels who they think they can overpower with swarm tactics."

"I see..." Admiral Armbrüster was growing with concern over the tide of events he was hearing about. If he'd known about this tide a year ago, he may have tried to nip the many threats emerging by their buds using precise military force. Eliminating many of these militant groups may have helped to avoid future strife Pascal Naval Station may be facing soon. Regardless of the hand played to him, the Admiral had to make choices here and now to turn the tides of what he could only describe as a tsunami of militant piracy steadily approaching Pascal Archipelago. As the next hour of the meeting went through, the Admiral learned many threats, both state and non-state, that were beginning to rise around them in the Barbar Islands; now wasn't a time to sit back and watch, it was time to act with clear vision and fierce resolve. Admiral Armbrüster admired one famous General from a hundred years ago who was as wise as he was a great soldier, that General once said in a situation like this that "I would rather be the hammer than the anvil."

Admiral Armbrüster's first decision was the increase in surveillance and reconnaissance missions around the Barbar region; although the Imperial Navy's assets typically avoided sailing too deep into the region's core where TECT assets would struggle to quickly arrive to, things would be changing from here on out. Intelligence gathering ships will venture deeper into regional waters and patrol planes will fly farther than typically done before; the number of patrol flights and routes these planes travel will also increase in order to seek and destroy potential pirates at sea. Such intelligence gathering in the core of the region and in other parts not regularly visited by Imperial Navy assets would be important for picking up electronic/signal intelligence from a number of targeted parties; they'll avoid crossing into territorial waters, but getting close would be important in achieving the goal of intelligence gathering and for showing TECT is showing its serious side - whether it was a patrol plane or combat assets, TECT will show its neighbors it's serious about ensuring its security during times of heightened tensions. Naval patrols, which had been waning in recent months, would drastically increase around Pascal's territorial and exclusive economic zone (100-200 kilometers); these patrols would also become larger, conducted more often, and would sail in more areas outside Pascal's EEZ where shipping would be threatened near Pascal Naval Station - if desired, a patrol could be conducted outside the territory of neighbors as a show of force. At bare minimum, these patrol groups could act as quick reaction forces if the need ever arises. Many vessels would become activated once more to partake in these patrols and others will be made ready to deploy at moments notice. Other forces being placed on ready include the 14th Elite Marine Battalion stationed at Pascal Naval Station, the 99th Royal Guard Airborne Marine Brigade stationed in Pascal would be placed on alert, and multiple air wings and marine forces will be placed on heightened alert until further notice. To help thin the sludge that is piracy, all eight of the Ambuscade class armed merchant vessels stationed at Pascal Naval Station will be sent on patrol around the region; they'll be carrying legit cargo and follow legitimate planned routes to ports in and out of the region. Ambuscade classes are identical to normal cargo ships and if the crew mans the ship right, they can go completely unnoticed by anybody unaware of their true motives; the crew and marines aboard these armed merchant vessels use this form of stealth to lure in pirates who mistake it for a legitimate target to plunder. Once they're within range there is no escape; the combination of forty-millimeter automatic cannons, heavy machine guns, armed marines, and add-ons like missiles will make any pirate force rue the day they chose to attack such a vessel. Used correctly, Ambuscade classes can wipe out entire pirate fleets and deter future attacks against civilian ships out of fear for selecting badly. It's important for these ships to resemble real cargo transports, however; that means acting like normal crew above deck, sending electronic/signal intelligence that convinces potential listeners they're a normal civilian crew, and having a legitimate paper trail that convinces smarter pirates they're who they say they are. The Barbar Islands are excellent waters for these armed merchant vessels, nay perfect, considering most pirates not only avoid TECT military vessels, they typically avoid vessels clearly protected by military assets or those that sale near Pascal Naval Station. The Imperial Navy at Naval Station Pascal would no longer sit idle as forces congregate around Barbar to destroy everything TECT naval supremacy and security stands for. Things were going to be different starting today...

User avatar
New Aeyariss
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 8134
Founded: May 12, 2010
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby New Aeyariss » Fri Jan 13, 2017 2:41 am

OOC: This is just a scene meant to be intermediary before the moment when Selkie gives me more information about Tortuga. Forgive low quality, I am not feeling well, but I want this RP to keep going.

**** Yakushima

When making first look at Commodore Watanabe Ryunosuke, one could not ask himself a simple question: "How the hell is this person one of most feared commanders of the Kaigun special warfare branch?" for there was virtually nothing, in his very look and nature that would have indicated so. Watanabe was extremely short, even for a Nifonese, with round, oval face with extended cheekbones, long ears, pair of small, blue eyes constantly lustrating everything around him and short, raven dark hair, akin to the one mos of his kin had, with the mouth of this terrifying Tenshinhei officer looking like it was extended in permanent smile. Neither was the body of this man overtly muscular, like most people would have suspected. Yet under the cover of his uniform hid muscles of steel, maybe not overtly built, but certainly ones capable of delivering extremely accurate and fast blow exactly where this officer wanted it. However more pressing circumstances happened around him, as Admiral Matsuoka was listening to report from his subordinates. And he was not happy;

"We tried searching anything about the bank" spoke the cyberwarfare officer in sad tone "And we found nothing. They do not even use credit cards, it is all 1950s technology. Must be a nightmare for their clients, but works well for criminals."

Matsuoka lowered his head, thinking. If the pirates had no desire to take it the light way, the hard way it was then.

"Katsurou-shōshō" spoke the admiral looking at the officer responsible for HUMINT "Give me a SITREP on your progress?"

"Multiple cells have been activated and are now obtaining visas to the area" smiled Katsurou, thinking of what was to follow "ETA between 1 to 3 days. Pirates will keep their hostages far longer, so we have time. They want money, not their death."

And finally, the long awaited moment came:

"Ryunosuke-taisa" smiled the admiral "I think I can trust you on this one..."

And so the sharks were set loose. Nifonese chain of command incorporated the idea of "Auftragstaktik" - the maximum initiative of the individual commanders, who possessed certain degree of autonomy in their actions. Ryunosuke headed now to prepare OPOROD for his men, knowing that lot of blood was about to be shed.

*** Selkian embassies

Hours after the meeting, the Embassy of Selkie in Inyursta - a nation formally not involved in the pirate crisis - received a request for visas for five persons - two journalists and 3 men security staff writing for left-leaning journal associated with Alternative Front to enter the Islands and report on problems happening there.

There were no criminal records, and persons involved were exemplary citizens despite their not popular views. Why should they be denied entrance?

And as various officials searched their documents, a gleaming eye of imagining satellite turned as the space object was about to pass over Archar Islands. Of course the pirate activity won't be that easy to detect - especially not using this sensor - but it would for sure be useful in determining various information needed for the upcoming operation aimed to recapture the hostages and kill as many pirates as possible.

The hunt was on.
Rping in MT (2023) and PT/FanT (1564)


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Christeria
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 124
Founded: Oct 28, 2015
Ex-Nation

Postby Christeria » Tue Jan 17, 2017 6:09 pm

"Whales, those gentle behemoths of the seas. Those gentle and innocent creatures that have not harmed a soul. For centuries humanity has been astonished by its size and grace. But, my brothers and sisters, mankind has betrayed these creatures.

“My Brothers and sisters, mankind has slaughtered these innocent animals for no reason other than greed.” The long-haired hippy started crying,”Millions of whales have been murdered. Hundreds of millions of calves were left orphans. These poor souls were left fend for themselves in the empty ocean.” The 20 or so eco pirates on the helipad began to cry along with the speaker

Their leader continued in a stirring voice,”But my brothers and sisters of the earth, we can stop this, this Holocaust! Just ten minutes ago, Danny picked up the sounds of an ailing whale on the sonar. Then Debra picked up a large vessel nearby. It is a butcher, I just know it.” The pirates angrily murmured in agreement. Sensing he had the zenith of the crews attention, he dropped the bomb,”We, my sisters and brothers, can save this poor creature. We have weapons and determination!” The pirates waved their
https://www.remington.com/rifles/bolt-action/model-700/model-700-cdl-sf
in the air.

The speaker continued with renewed vigor:
“We will free the innocent captive.” His voice choked up with emotion:
“Even if we are too late, we can at least avenge the innocent! For the Cause!”
The pirates went wild and shouted,”For the Cause! For the Cause!”

After they had died down a bit, the hippy said in a purpose filled voice,”Now my brothers and sisters, to the boats!” The pirates filed into their speed boats, 2
http://www.safeboats.com/boats/center-console-23/
, they split into 2 groups of 11. Each group boarded a boat. Each individual group had a Rescue Leader who led the group, usually with more zeal then skill. He had a lieutenant who helped him manage the squad. Their was also a helmsman and navigator who crewed the boat.

One of the pirates was Jose Respanious. Jose is a Hispanic of typical height, 5’8’’. He has simple brown eyes and black hair. He looks like an average, everyday guy. Well, except for his uniform that is. It is neon yellow with cartoon marine life printed on it with the words,”For the Cause!” He also wore khaki shorts. He might have been odd had he been the only one wearing such clothes. Indeed, the entire boarding party was wearing this uniform when the weather permitted. All of the crew were also issued “ammo bags”. In reality, they were just a small black purse that held .30-06 Springfield rounds. Each purse contained 250 rounds in it, far more then Jose needed.

The majority of the crew would have trouble hitting the broadside of the barn past 200 meters with full powered rifles. On the other hand, Jose was an excellent marksman. He was specifically good with full power cartridges of the 6-7mm range. He had been taught by his father and others. He was also a pretty good woodsmen and hunter. Of course, he did not tell the others he was a hunter. If they knew If they knew what he was they would probably make him walk the plank.

He zipped his purse back and climbed down into a speed boat. The rest of his squad was already aboard. His Rescue Leader, Paul jokingly said,”Took you a while to get aboard, do you think you’re a tortoise or something?” Jose just grinned back. Paul then ordered them to shove off. After every one was safely seated, the helmsman (or helmswoman in this case) ignited the engines and they roared away at 20 knots. For better or worse, I am in this

2 hours later...

By now the bright sun had dipped toward the western horizon. It transformed the blue sky into a myriad of hues. Pink, purple, red, it was a marvelous site to see. Some of the pirates were talking to each other about something insignificant. Jose just admired the beautiful horizon. Everyone was interrupted by the squawk of Paul's walkie talkie,

"Rescue 2 this is Rescue 1, do you hear me?"
"Of course I do, I'm not deaf!"
"It was just a question! We see the ship, it is off starboard 40 degrees, use your binoculars."
"Let me see..."

Paul stood up and looked through his binoculars 33 degrees to port. Jose just sighed. Paul was about to call in that he could not find the ship when a black haired women, Chelsie, called out,"Starboard is to your right you idiot!" The squad chuckled at this remark. Their leader glared at her for a moment. He turned toward the right and after a few seconds confirmed that he had sighted the vessel. Rescue 1 replied;

“About time, you might not be deaf, but you sure are shortsighted.” Paul’s face burned with indignation, but he let the other rescue leader to continue. “We will move straight at them from here. Tell your rescuers to hold their fire until we are aboard. Unless we start shooting or the slayers in the boat shoot at us. Did you hear all of that?”
“Loud and clear you crab hole!”

With that the radio transmission ended. Paul directed the helmswomen toward the hapless vessel. He looked toward his team and shouted over the sound of the boats engines,”Arm up, we are about to reach the slayers' boat. I don’t want any of you shooting without my permission unless you see an animal in danger or are being fired upon. We will board the whaling ship and rescue the whale. Try not to kill the murderers aboard that ship. They can serve the cause better if we ransom them instead. Everyone hear that?”

”Aye!”

“Good. You heard what our Grand Leader said back at the helipad, we must save the whale! We are at the spearhead of a global war against genocide. We will fight until no one else dares murder these innocent creatures! We will rescue the whale, I am sure of it. And even if we fail, we shall avenge its murder through the blood of the crew. For the Cause!”

“For the Cause, for the Cause!”

Jose readied his weapon along with the rest of the crew. As they got closer, he noticed that the supposed whaling ship was a fishing trawler. That’s amusing, we are gotten so worked up about saving a whale, and it’s just a fishing vessel. This has got to be embarrassing. The same black haired women that had rudely corrected Paul earlier said softly,”Its a fishing vessel.” the word spread throughout the team. Their Rescue Leader, knowing he needed to regain their zeal, spoke to them in a heartbroken voice,”So what that it is a fishing vessel my brothers and sisters? Does that horrid death camp not kidnap millions of fishes from their home and freeze them, for just a cold buck? I am in fact glad that it is a fishing vessel. Know we can stop it from murdering thousands of fish daily! We will release the frozen fish back into the ocean and stop this horror ship from ever kidnapping another fish again!” The team once again replied enthusiastically,”For the Cause, for the Cause!” Jose joined in. he did not really agree with his speech, but he had to admit, his leader was pretty good at making people shout,”For the Cause, for the Cause!”

They were very close now, only about 100 meters out. Suddenly, Jose did not see anybody armed, or anyone for that matter. He did see something that looked like a satellite dish. He quickly discarded this as a suitable target because alone, he could not generate enough firepower to disable it. He did, however, spot a fisherman in the bridge. He seemed to be trying to call for help through a voice receiver. He lined up his sights and pulled the trigger.

The .30.06 Springfield left the barrel far before the man who ignited its primer could feel the recoil. It sped through the air at f/s. It shattered the bridge’s side window. But the glass was designed to take a moderate beating from waves and was quite tough. Because of this, the projectile veered slightly to the left. It then slammed into the fisherman’s voice receiver and shattered it. It then continued to plow straight through his hand and through the next window.

Jose’s mouth dropped at this. He had been aiming for the general area around the fisherman, not his voice receiver. One could easily see the fisherman’s terror stricken face as he dropped to the ground. Jose fired another shot above the man just to be sure he was suppressed. By now the shooting from the team had died down while they were reloading. The Hispanic took this opportunity to slide two more rounds into the magazine.

The eco pirates' boats were now about two hulls length away. The helmswomen slowed the boat by shifted the prop to reverse and brought the boat alongside the trawler. Paul ordered that the grapple rope ladder to be deployed. Two pirates tossed the grapple up. It bounced off the side of the ship and landed on the speedboats roof. Embarrassed, the teammates yanked the grapple off the roof. They tried again and were able to acquire a secure hold. Without any prompting, the team started to climb the ladder.

Chloe Sander, Recue Leader 1#, angerly yelled at her equal from her boat;
"Why the hell did you open fire back there?!"
"You said to shoot if you started shooting! I ordered my team to shoot when I heard a gunshot coming from your boat!"
"Oh, I am sorry, that was an accidental shot. But you couldn't have known that.."

Paul just huffed and climbed his rope ladder. Jose followed behind him. The 20 pirates were clustered around the ladders like cattle next to a trough. Good thing I am next to the water. Now if someone starts shooting, I can just jump off and let these idiots die. Chloe must have reached this conclusion to because she barked out,"Disperse you idiots before someone starts shooting!" The pirates did as they were told. Jose looked at the superstructure.

A door opened on the bottom level of the superstructure. Jose immediately yelled out,"You at the doorway, come out with your hands on your head!" Jose aimed his rifle at the doorway. The rest of the pirates followed suite. Then they heard,"Tornilles pirata!", coming from the door. It was not a,"Tornilles pirata! I am angry at you because I'm surrendering." It was instead an,”I’m going to rip to your throats if I can,” tornillo pirata. Immediately after this, a door opened on the next level. a Spaniard stepped out and began to shoot at them with a Glock 9mm. Jose knew it was a Glock 9mm because he was very familiar with that weapon. He knew it so well that he could recognize the bang it made anytime.

The pirates lost heart at this unforeseen attack and scampered toward cover. The man hit one of the pirates in the leg. He was dragged to cover by his comrade. Jose was about to aim his rifle at the man on the top when he heard something. That something was the sound of a pump action shotgun being chambered. Jose dove behind a barrel. Just as he reached cover, he heard a large *boom* that sent lead shot right where he once was. Collecting his thoughts, he began to count the shots fired from each weapon. He knew the Glock held 15 rounds while the shotgun probably could not hold more then 12 shells.

Chelsey was taking cover beside him and bitterly said,”20 armed pirates pinned down by 2 fisherman with a pistol and shot gun. I’m pretty sure once a upon a time they needed a machine gun to do that!” Jose just smiled at this. Though he probably did not hear her, another teammate charged from cover shouting,”For the Cause!” He was promptly rewarded with a a *bang* from the shotgun. The enthusiastic pirate’s head was blown away. Those who heard this cowered even more.

Jose asked Chelsey,”Did you see where that pistol guy was?” She closed her eyes a moment in concentration and answered,”Yes I do.” Jose continued authoritatively,“Okay, when I say so, shoot him. I will ha…” Just then he heard the discharge of the Glock’s last bullet. He also noticed the lack of noise coming from the chambering of the shotgun. He yelled,”Shoot!”, as he rose from cover. As he was rising form the cove, he visualized where the door was and where the shotgun man probably was. He moved his body to line up his Model 700 on his imaginary target. The fisherman was trying to reload his gun. The pirate aimed for the right side of the man’s chest. He did not want to kill him, just put him out of action. He pulled the trigger. The fisherman’s determined face turned into one of agony as he clutched his bleeding wound and crumpled to the ground . His shooter had heard what it was like being hit by a .30-06 Springfield. It was like getting hit with a jackhammer. Chelsea had also stood from cover with him and shot at the pistolier. Her bullet went through his arm and into is throat. He produced choking sounds as he too fell to the ground. Meanwhile, Jose began to empty his magazine into the doorway to keep anybody behind him suppressed. Chelsey followed his example and kept up suppressing the door.

While the two pirates were reloading, Paul finally recollected his wits and triumphantly shouted.”Charge Rescue 2#! The way is clear!” He kept forward and ran toward the bottom level door. 5 members of Rescue 2# charged with him. Of the 2 remaining, 1 was tending the wound on his comrade. As his teammates neared the door, Jose and Chelsey reloaded. Chloe overcame her shock at being fired upon and ordered her squad forward as well.

Jose looked at Chelsey and asked;
”Do you want to go in there?”
“Nah, I got shot at enough for one day.”
Jose smiled and said,”If anybody asks, we’re guarding the deck.”

20 minutes later…

The rest of the fishermen surrendered without a fight. Apparently, only the 2 fisherman who fought them on the deck had firearms and balls. 38 fisherman, all but two of the crew, were currently kneeling in 4 lines on the deck. Many had suffered real and flesh wounds from the fusillade produced by Rescue 1# earlier. Of the two that had opposed them, only the shotgun man survived. But he was in a bad state. The pistolier had died shortly after being shot. Having a projectile enter and exit through larynx would do that to a person.

Jose was currently surveying the deck from the pistolier’s former perch. The trawler was currently dead in the water. 2 members of Rescue 1# were trying to find a way to use the radio without the voice receiver. The member of Rescue 2# wounded earlier along with the shotgun fisherman were being tended by the pirates' "medic". Another member of Rescue 2# with them acting as an extra guard for the fisherman. The rest of the boarding party plus the helmsmen were guarding the prisoners. So all in all, only 15 pirates were left guarding the prisoners. So that meant that where it counted, the Whale Rescuers were outnumbered more then 2 to 1. The pirates were dead if they did anything to make the fishermen believe their best chances of survival was to fight. As if on cue for this thought, the bottom level door opened.

Out of the door came a pirate, the one that was supposed to be guarding the wounded fisherman, walked out. She was crying, cuddling something brown, bright red, and furry in her arms. In between sobs, the angry pirate shouted to the pirates,"They murdered this innocent cat by crushing it's head!" Angry murmuring arouse from the pirates. They began to ready their rifles. Paul and Chloe did nothing to alleviate the problem but instead angrily murmured as well. Seeing that things were beginning to become hairy, the fishing captain tried to defend himself and his crew saying,"We didn't murder the creature! The cook had accidentally dropped a 20 gallon pot of boiling water. The fat cat did not move out of the way and its head was pulverized." That's a reasonable explanation. Hopefully they will listen to it. It seemed to work. The murmuring turned from that of anger to one of sorrow. That was a close one.

Apparently not everyone registered the n't at the end of the Captain's didn't; Because Paul, in a fit of rage, ran to the captain and smashed his buttstock into his head. Jose could hear the sickening "crunch" even from his high perch. Paul shrieked in a deranged voice,"Did you not hear him? He admitted that they maliciously murdered the cat by dropping a pot on its head." Crud, hopefully this won't incite any more violence... As if somebody was content to ruin his day, the members of Rescue 1# and 2# followed Paul's savage example and began to beat the fisherman. Oh frick. Jose readied his Model 700.

9 fisherman, excluding the captain, were struck down in the initial charge. 6 pathetically layer on the ground begging for their lives like wusses. The other 23 decided that the only way for them to survive was to fight. And fight they did. They started beating the pirates. The fishermen were at a disadvantage fighting without a weapon while the pirates had solid wood buttstocks. However, the fishermen did have the advantage of numbers and the determination of a caged animal. Jose, seeing the situation was desperate, immediately took aim and fired on the biggest loafer he could see, a burly 7 footer one could mistake for a gorilla. The "gorilla" immediately fell on top of some poor fisherman. The poor man let out a cry of anguish as the 250 lb monster crushed his spine. Jose kept on firing, caring much less for accuracy then for rate of fire. The fishermen were sandwiched between the pirates, so as long as he shot in the center area their was not a risk of friendly fire.

Chelsey burst through the door behind Jose along with her comrade. She had her rifle at the ready and stated,"What the heck is happe..." Just then she noticed the fierce melee happening below. Her and her comrade immediately lined up beside Jose and fired into the fishermen. As she fired, Chelsey uttered,"Why?" Jose bitterly replied,"Because of a cat." She stopped firing for a moment and stared at him in disbelief. He did not bother looking at her. He was too busy shooting to care about defending his claim.

Within 5 minutes it was over. The deck was littered with 43 dead bodies. The 11 surviving pirates stood, shocked at the fight they had just been in. All of the survivors on deck level had been wounded, 2 seriously. 5 of their number had been killed. All the fishermen, including the shot gunner, had been slain in the pirates' blood frenzy over a cat.

Jose gritted his teeth over the scene before him. He had seen bloodier melees then this before. But not one of them matched it in stupidity. All this over a stupid cat. All this slaughter, over a dead cat! What the heck is wrong with these people?! How could they be so inhumane? How can they call themselves sane after this. The disgusted pirate slung his rifle. He took one last look at the dead, and went into the bridge. To think, I got here because I pulled the short end of a straw...

An hour later...

Darkness had finally won its daily battle the sun. All was darkness, even the moon exchanged it's luminescent sheek for the embrace of darkness. Only the stars shown brightly. Out here in the ocean far from any large amounts of artificial light, the stars were always so bright. They seemed to be so much closer here then anywhere else.

Chelsey's amber eyes soaked in all the beauty above her. Her long black hair flowed in the wind as she hung over the railing. These nights reminded her of her mother. They used to drive into the desert on weekend nights to see the stars. Though not an astronomer in profession, her mother knew a great deal about constellations and stars in general. Chelsey's father would call her mother, Stargirl, because of her great knowledge. Her Asian features formed into a long full smile. It had been a while since she had last seen her parents.

Paul leaned on the railing a comfortable distance away. He was about average height, 6' 2", with broad shoulders. He was not overly strong looking. But considering the look a fisherman made when he was punched by Paul, those arms packed some power. He ran his hand through his curly red hair. He was still wearing their ridiculous uniform, though now some blood stained it. Hopefully it's his blood.

Chelsey was not the biggest fan of Paul. They were not direct enemies, but they certainly could not be counted as friends. They had disliked each other almost as soon as they met at the institute 2 years ago. Nor had either of them tried to make piece. Chelsey was, however, in the mood for talking.

She turned toward Paul and said in her best gruff voice,"So what are we doing with the 2,000 lb of fish?" No answer. Her face turned a little red. It was not like she had only ignored him a million times. The number was closer to 2 thousand times. She asked again the same voice, but with some anger in it,"Hey, you idiot with the stupid red hair! What the heck are we doing with the 2,000 lb of fish?" He turned toward her with a sarcastic oblivious face. He replied in a mock innocent voice,"Are you talking to me?" Chelsey lifted an eyebrow and shot back,"Who else do you think I'm talking to, a rat?" "Well...", Paul mischievously added. Chelsey, now fairly angry, interrupted him,"Don't answer that! And by "that" I mean the rat question. I still want to know about the fish though." Paul gave a mock bow while saying,"Anything you say, your highness."

Chelsey had had enough. Clearly trying to start a conversation with Paul had been a mistake. She started to walk off. Paul called out to her,"Wait! I was just kidding around. I didn't know you would get so upset over it. I'll answer your question." Chelsey stopped turned around and walked back to her spot. Paul began to speak,"Chloe and I have decided to dump the fish tomorrow morning. Return to the sea what it owns." His associate's face pursed in a frown,"Wouldn't that kind of be a waste? The fish are already dead. All they would be is food for crustaceans, sharks, and seagulls. They would probably do more harm by heating up the temperature of the water as they decay or something. Since they are already dead, it might be a good idea just to sell them in whatever port we land. After all, if we are going to feed some creature with them, it mine as well be used to feed humans."

Paul was about to indignantly reply that doing so would be evil and such. But before any words found their way out of his mouth, he recognized the wisdom of her words. The anger drained out of his blue eyes and Caucasian face. He went back to staring at the ocean. That was their little way of saying the other was right. Chelsey smiled.

She asked another question, this time her voice was even and calm;
"Were you able to contact the fleet yet?"
"Yeah, Jonah found a way to hook the wire to a walkie talkie to the ships radio. Somehow it worked. The ship is moving to the meeting place. Some place called Tortuga or something. It is supposed to be a pirate haven."
"Is the Blue Whale and Vengeful Dolphin meeting us there too?"
"Yup, the entire fleet is meeting there. Rumor has it that the famous Jacque Sparrow has his base of operations there..."
"Jack Sparrow?"
"No, Jacque Sparrow."
"Hmmm, that's an interesting name."
"As I was saying, the Grand Rescuer is planning on requesting training and possibly equipment for The Cause from him."

A silence ensued after this. Both of them just stared at the horizon thinking. I wonder where Jose is. I haven't seen him since the melee. She was not really concerned about Jose. She was just curious. After all, the time he explained the plan to take down the weapon wielding fishermen had been the longest sentence he had ever spoken to her. Knowing she might regret this, she asked Paul,"Do you know where Jose is?" Paul immediately turned toward her with a wide grin on his face. She knew what was coming. He mischievously stated,"So you and Jose are getting close hmmm?" Chelsey rolled her eyes. I suppose I walked into that one. She irritatingly replied,"Heck no! I was just curious because I had not seen him since the end of the battle." "Oh, well in that case...",Paul thought for a moment. He stated,"Yep I saw him as I was walking to the bathroom about half a hour ago. He seemed okay. He certainly didn't seem like he was jumping off the trawler anytime soon."

Once again they just stared into the horizon, as if trying to predict the morrow.
A Dinner of Business and Other Matters [Ongoing](with The Selkie

Norcourtian Civil War 1916 [Lost](But I possibly gained an ally.)

Christerian Arms Confederation
RL Germany
RL Israel
RL U.S.A.
RL Belgium
Norcourt Industries
United Finnian Ship Yards
Silverport Dockyards (late 20th century and 21st century)
Wolf Armenants (21st century)

Despite not-so diligent work on Christerian ambassadors' part, Christeria is rather alone in the NS world.

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The Selkie
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Posts: 18540
Founded: Sep 17, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby The Selkie » Wed Jan 18, 2017 5:27 am

[Archive Signature 11-58, Estate of Vice-Admiral Gavin Bagrach of the Tribe of Westmeath, letter, dated 11th of January 2017, from Commander Kayla Torrach of the Tribe of Wicklow.
Subject: Taking command of the Achar Islands Constabulary SDF-Navy Force (6th Patrol Gunboat Squadron), general instructions and tips.
Security Clearance: As of 11th of January 2067, this document is freely available to qualified historians in accordance with the wishes of Vice-Admiral Bagrach and Commodore (ret.) Torrach.]


11th of January 2017.
Folaigh.


Dear Gavin,
Dear Commander Bagrach,
Comm

I'm sorry, Gavin. I know, how much you loved the Archipelago and doing Constabulary-Work there... And then I go home for a few weeks and get knocked up by my hubby.
The only officer of the SDF-Navy available to do such a task was you and you were available.
Marley is still on your mind and you found solace on the Archipelago's islands... at least Amy [Note: Admiral (ret.) Amy Curadh of the Tribe of Wicklow] had the decency to look ashamed.
Again, I'm sorry.

I don't write to you to write about how much sorry I am, though, not mainly.
I write to you to give you a bit of a briefing. The kind of briefing you don't get from SDF-Navy Intelligence.
So... the Achar Islands. I served there for six years.
The entire region is piss-poor and it isn't made better by the circumstances of the Sunda-Republic, which is basically a failed state. Several militias and the military are vying for control, crime and piracy are at an all-time high and that's where we came in – in the 60s, the SDF participated in a peacekeeping mission, being the only ones left behind and operating to indeed secure peace and a stable environment, with the force of arms, if necessary. For a time, it worked.
Then, the Sunda-Republic sold fishing rights to everyone and their mothers and veritable fleets of fishing and whaling vessels appeared, stealing the last source of income and food from the locals – development aid and food deliveries can only get you so far and we quickly ran out of options to aid the locals.
Those, in turn, turned to less legal means of acquiring food and funds: Piracy. The fishermen armed themselves with a variety of weapons and did the same with their boats and captured the occasional freighter, fishing boat and so on, nothing that couldn't happen in international waters as well.
The problem shortly before my leave was, that this method was also utilized by other actors, namely the odd ecopirate. The main issue on that front is the so-called Captain Whalelord, Jacques Sparrow. SDF-Navy Intelligence says, that he is indeed a Selkie, but were not as sure about that as they liked.
I know, that he'll do something dumb sooner or later.

We can, so far, not effectively work against that, so there's a gentleman's agreement in place: As long as the pirates are in our waters, they are not necessarily protected, but we are mysteriously unable to find them – if they break laws, though, board or attack ships within our waters, we hunt them down like vermin.
It's a fragile balance of power at the moment.
Repeatedly, I asked Amy [Note: Admiral (ret.) Amy Curadh of the Tribe of Wicklow] if we couldn't get more down here, but she always declined. As did Old Ferris [Note: General Ferris Taoiseach of the Tribe of Antrim, at the time Supreme Commander of the SDF], by the way, as did the Elder Council.
Apparently, something needs to happen before they indeed act.

Places of interest for you are mainly the port cities: Penyu, Ujung, Tempat, Nelayan, Saluran and Benteng.
By now, you should know Benteng, it harbours the headquarters of the Constabulary, an old fortress-town with a small airport around the size of Traverse International. Most of the troops of the Constabulary are stationed there as well, due to its size and strategic importance to the peacekeeping efforts, that is all well and dandy. It's a lively town and I would love to claim, that it is because of us, but that's not true. The historic city centre is worth more then a visit and you should try out the local seafood restaurants.
Saluran is the major population centre in the Achar Islands, a town larger then merry ol' Silverport and dirty as fuck. Corruption is rampant under local authorities and the police is brutal as well, but it mostly keeps the peace. Everybody more or less profits. We suspect, that smugglers use Saluran as a hideout, but so far, we weren't able to get our hands on an investigator, which might be a good thing, too – they, in turn, keep pirates away.
Nelayan, opposite to Benteng, is the polar opposite to Benteng in many ways. The 9th Company holds the fort down there, which is good, as Nelayan is a farmer's town, not a fishervillage or a harbour. They are a small cornchamber, if you ask me and quite a good one at that, but they suffer from a lack of investments and a few other circumstances.
Tempat is uninteristing, a fishervillage in the middle of nowhere. The local sherriff brews a wonderful tea, but that's the end of that.
Ujung is... complicated.
There also a pleantitude of villages, but these six are the most important ones, if the sixth is not immediately counted in: Penyu, the most wretched hive of scum and villany.
You must be cautious.
There'll be a briefing for that place especially, but the long and short of it is, that it is the centre of pirate activity in the region – without loosing its front as a busy and legitimate harbour. We know exactly, what goes on, but we can't get evidence of it and even if, we can't stop it as Penyu is heavily fortified.
And I mean heavily. Something that indeed can not be solved with a few airstrikes. There indeed are plans of the SDF to make the harbour unusable by such a thing [Note: Operation Scamall or Operation Cloud] and to hit a few other targets, but I don't think, that this would be much of a success. At the moment, we simply lack the resources and will to conduct such an operation and even then, I doubt, that it would be of much use.
Small blessings include, that the local pirates at least not trade in slaves, mostly.
Those who do and are caught by us fell underneath SDF-Jurisdiction. You know, what that means.

So... this is the short of it. It's quite a mess.
Please stay safe out there and make sure, that the others stay safe, too. I want my Tida [Note: SDFS Tida, the fleet oiler and flagship of the 6th PGS.] back in one piece, too.

Good hunting,
Kayla



On the matter of Penyu

SDF-Navy Intelligence, Eyes Only.
Encryption: Low.


Commander Torrach is not wrong when describing Penyu as the most wretched hive of scum and villany. It is a pirate harbour, one that does not participate in human trafficking, but a pirate harbour nonetheless – and those guys seem to know, what they are doing.
An unofficial estimate says, that Penyu has around 9,500 citizens in the whole area and an additional number of 2,500 people frequently visiting the city. It would be a beautiful place to make a vacation: Crystal-clear water, soft, rolling sand beaches, warm and not too humid in a relatively large inlet, much akin to a fjord, the Masuk-Inlet, which can be traversed by SDY Pattern 253 freighters, steep cliffs at either side of the fjord itself, none higher then around fifteen metres. The ruins of a small fortress of the former colonial masters throne above the city on one of the hills around them.
There are a few schools in town, one of them is maintained by the Cabhair Group under the patronage of Mistress Cathlong. This school especially is maintained as neutral grounds and is protected by a bunch of PMCs (Selkie, fifteen men, lightly armed, sleeping on the school grounds).

The major problems of Penyu are, however, less with the education, but with the pirates.
Also known as Tortuga, an old pirate harbour in the Carribean several centuries ago, the town is a safe haven for everyone with a ship and the will to redistribute belongings to himself or those in need. While legitimate business owners and freighters mostly avoid the port, pirate vessels do not.
We have located the appropriate infrastructure for a such adventures – it is very much like one of the old Reserve Harbours for FACs we used to have in the 80s plus a few freight terminals.
The streets themselves are narrow and only three main streets capable of taking cargo trucks lead away from the harbour. We have regular traffic of those on the streets, some of them transporting containers with rather interesting markings as of late. We spotted at least three with Nifonese markings and there are also several trucks with containers bearing markings of other origin, at least two of them Selkie. There are also at least three markets, one of them for arms and other equipment, some of it heavy – we spotted spotted several recoilless guns and 2A28s of Soviet fame, as well as several other things which are usually found with more regular forces.
The nearby Sungai River is not capable of taking anything larger then small freight launches, so it is relatively limited in the options. There is also a small airfield nearby, we dubbed it Penyu Airfield. Our Reconnaissance Elements spotted small STOL-planes launching and landing there, as well as a makeshift tower and a few parking spots with camo nets. Nothing combat-worthy is there so far, but the Elements spotted a few remote-controlled vehicles, a.k.a. Drones – we are, so far, not sure if these are combat-worthy, but they could be a danger.

Power is held by the Pirate Council, a.k.a. the city council, which also has the 'former' leader of a local militia in it. Strangely enough, this 'former' leader of a local militia, a certain Mister Tengkorak, still has people with the insignia of his militia running around and basically controlling the island Penyu is on. We suspect, that the 'former' is also a 'former' so the militia still exists and acts as a police force – and a very effective one, as long as you know and pay the right people. We let him live and have a seat on the City Council and in return, he promised to keep the peace, which we didn't have much problems with back then.
We also suspect, that he and the local pirates came to an agreement about docking fees and that he uses this to finance himself, his living style (a rather good one, mind you) and his militia, which we suspect to count around 15,000 men, including a number of technicals, trucks and heavier vehicles and arms, including armoured fighting vehicles. We also suspect them to utilize child soldiers as dispatch runners and in other secondary functions, as well as to have at least one 'special forces unit', if one wants to be so bold and call them that, an elite sniper unit on par with what we can field and with equipment to match.
The pirates themselves are, as of now, in a situation of alliance with the militia, they pay, the militia turns more or less a blind eye and everyone profits.
We also suspect at least one smuggler to be based in the city, but the one we have an eye on is more of a dealer of stolen goods and arms dealer.
So far, this constellation guarantees stability, which is one thing we need to look out for. If we can shift the balance, tip the scales, or even create a vacuum, the problem could solve itself with little problems for us and infighting amongst them. However, we have, so far, no permission to indeed tip the scales the way we want them to be tipped.

By the way, best regards to the Niffies and everyone else cracking this message. If you have someone in trouble in Penyu, ask for a certain Liam the Red in a bar called the Nebby. He'll try to help you if you ask nicely.
Commander, that's it for you. If you want to take them on, ask for reinforcements and hope it's granted, we suspect, that Ol' Ferris will give in, once the Council gives in – they are already showing signs of cracking. A little push from the outside (hint, hint, nudge, nudge, wink, wink) would do the trick, we suspect.
That would also work against the gentleman's agreement in place – we don't attack pirates in our waters as long as they don't attack Selkie-vessels or attack vessels in our waters. It was more a stopgap when it was conceived, but it's not appropriate anymore.

Good hunting.

Image
Penyu General Area, roads and a few other important parts of infrastructure are missing, but those change more or less by the seasons anyway.

Image
The Achar-Islands, General Overview.


List of Reference Points:
1: Pembela Island, and fortress. We know, that its highly fortified, with several recoilless guns and autocannons hidden on the island, which is dominated by the cliffs surrounding it. It basically is a large rock in the middle of the mouth. A small sand beach allows entrance at the northern end.
It appears, that this one was used in the past to land the construction crews responsible for the fortifications on the island. UoL Arch already requested permission for a dig, but it seems, that this is out of question at the moment.
Movements as of late seem to suggest, that there are older models of Anti-Ship Missiles being moved into position on Pembela Island as well.
2 and 3: Entrances to the fjord. Easily to be controlled by Pembela Island or the cliffs on either side. Entering through there is highly inadvisable.
4: Duty Tower, nowadays suspected to be a lookout and harbour a radio mast. We tried to track a radio signal, 107.7 MHz, they mostly play local music (awful stuff), news and patrol warnings, to there and are quite sure, that a transmitter is in the tower.
5: The village of Muara, a sort-of secondary harbour to Penyu. We spotted several larger vessels and captures in there as of late. There's also a small yard for the repair and building of fishing vessels, but as of late, that has been covered up – whatever they do in there, they want to keep it out of our sight.
6: There's a farmer's house there – strategically well placed, with a hot farmer's daughter and with cliffs down to the sea at the eastern side, but that's the end of that.
7: A small forest, the road from Muara to Penyu runs directly at the edge. Around there, the road also forks to the farmer's house with the hot daughter, but it still is ideal for an ambush, if you ask me.
8: Where the small Sungai River meets the fjord without much hassle.
9: A nice little outcropping into the fjord with a commanding view of the entrance. We spotted something approaching positions there.
10: A small hill with a tree at the top. Idyllic, at least judging by the aerial reconnaissance, but also a good landmark.
11: A small house with a small jetty, nothing fancy, but enough to warrant attention. There are often cars parked in front of it, so we assume, that it's some sort of meeting point. So far, we could only identify, that the cars are from a limited pool.
12-26: Penyu Docks and corresponding harbour installations.
27: The old colonial fortress, nowadays a ruin. There were, for a time, a humanitarian group placed there, but they were quick to resettle somewhere less remote. It appears, that this had been a rather large fortress.
We don't know, what's in the catacombs, though.
28: We call it the Tongue, a small clifftongue reaching out, about ten metres in height.
29: A small villa is here, or at least its ruins. There has been movement there as of late, but those might be rovers. Still worth to keep an eye on. Has cliffs at the seafront.
30: The Bare Hill, as we call it. 45 metres high, good view. Might make a good spot for a holiday home, but the neighbours...
31: There's the ruins of an old farmstead there, the road is barely visible. No movement anywhere, so either we are out of luck, there is simply nothing (yet) or those guys are very good, but if I were to hide someone, I would do it exactly there. Worth to keep an eye on.
More may be added in the future.





The, wrongly dubbed so, Embassy of Selkie in Inyursta was... not directly on par with its peers, other embassies in the world. It actually was the, in official parlance of the Foreign Office, Embassy of the Free Lands of the Selkie and the Fifteen Tribes in Inyursta or simply the Selkie-Embassy.
And it was a small office with four people working there on behalf of the Foreign Office, all four of which were Selkie. Their main job was to provide usual services for Selkie in this part of the world, be they travellers or migrants, and to relay all the messages from companies and petitioners back home.
As a message from a well-known journal associated with a Nifonese left-leaning party (they were a bit surprised, that such a thing still existed) arrived with the request for visas for the Achar Islands, the first reply was a short message, that they needed to talk with their superiors about that.
The Free Lands themselves were no problem, but the Achar Islands... not so much. Especially not for Niffies, as the term of endearment was.
It took three days during which the persons the visas were requested for were checked and checked again - citizens of examplary records, maybe even too clean, given their association with a left-leaning journal. It raised a few eyebrows nonetheless.
So, the Foreign Office in Fortham, responsible for such matters, decided in cooperation with the SDF on a number of conditions, which were not up for debate: Security and guidance would be provided by the SDF, which was also ready to provide interview partners, so the journalists' own guards could stay home, the journalists in question were allowed to film their documentary in Ujung, Tempat, Nelayan and Benteng, as well as in the surrounding cities and towns, as well as the countryside and at sea, if deemed necessary on a SDF-Navy Patrol Vessel. And the documentary would also be shown, either dubbed or subbed, in the Free Lands as well.
All in all, the SDF and the Foreign Office were not interested in loosing foreign journalists to pirates just because they wanted to make a fancy documentary in a failed state - left leaning or not, these people were still Niffies and the local population was not too much of a fan of those, indeed so much so, that the SDF feared to see them in a documentary showing the traditional practice of lynching in the Achar Islands.
As subjects of that tradition.
If the journal agreed to these terms, then the team, enlarged if needed, was free to travel to the Achar Islands. If not, then the team could report on the situation from back home. The Foreign Office was very clear on that.

Meanwhile, the Constabulary was confronted with another situation unfolding: The Naval Station Pascal was amping up their operations, quite considerably.
Never minding the fact, that this naval station alone outsized the entire SDF-Navy by a wide margin, so wide that some indeed spoke of orders of magnitute, the station had been relatively quiet as of late.
Now, their vessels and planes were everywhere where they could be.
And sometimes where they shouldn't be. Their reconnaissance planes sometimes edged along the sphere of the Achar Islands Constabulary, picked up their patrol vessels' radars, sometimes cutting the edges of their flight paths, falling under the regulations to the Right of Free Passage, as the Selkie called it, essentially their version of the Freedom of Navigation and the Right to Innocent Passage.
Well, it wasn't as innocent if you were a pirate, but the SDF turned a blind eye onto that. Indeed, it was not exactly welcome, but very well received by the SDF-Forces in the area.
Last edited by The Selkie on Thu Jan 19, 2017 3:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
I play PT, MT and a bit FT. I am into character-RPs.
My people are called the Selkie, the nation is usually called the Free Lands in MT-settings. Thanks.

Silverport Dockyards Ltd.: Storefront - Catalogue

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McNernia
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Founded: Oct 05, 2011
New York Times Democracy

Postby McNernia » Sat Jan 21, 2017 6:22 pm

“That was too, close.” The officer paused. “Sir.”

“Probably one of the Imperial Navies, Nifon or the Common Territories, I would be alert but I would not be too perturbed, the Sultanate, the Republic, these two nations should be on the alert for any sort of people who were trying to interrupt the whole thing of their nation. The list does not include us because Lieutenant we are tasked with bringing about the necessary order and this covert mission against the arms dumps and camps of the enemy. Whoever opposes the government of Sunda will face our wrath, we shall continue on mission.”

“Understood sir.”

The conn was quiet as the ship moved every moment closer to the target, it had been but a few moments since the sonar operator had declared that the scope was clear and the contact was out of range of being a direct threat to the ship. Mandell had resisted the urge to go to full alert, lock a solution and flood a tube, all his were loaded with torpedoes and the missiles were primed for when he stood up at firing depth to the effect of having to be ready for the tasking that the commandos that were aboard would no doubt bring back, well send back if the SIS was correct. There was an infestation of assorted rebels and the SBS would be the striking sword, wits over brawn to take out a threat before it took down what little government remained in the country and posed a threat to the world, already there was areas of anarchy and they were massive and seats for major pirate problems.

Focus. You have to get your people to the target.

The commander spoke inwardly to himself with the situation of his submarine riding on his shoulders, commanders had to make the decision to engage the threat or to hole up in the water and then let it pass by. Mandell knew that the passing of one contact did not mean that his boat was out of the woods yet. He looked at his XO.

“Take the conn, Ill be in my quarters.”

He had seen the ship trough a tense contact and so walking back through the corridors to his room he looked at the chronometer on his wrist, the watch was a Louisport Advanced Mariner, used by pilots and submariners and had royal patronage from the late Emilion III the King who had seen the nation through the Cold War, in the Age of Information was something that was perhaps anachronistic with the super computer powered watches that had sat on the shelves in the gentlemen’s section of the Dai Kuong Naval Exchange. The big department store was where lieutenants bought their first tropical duty uniforms. Mandell had been assigned for the longest time to patrolling the cold and frozen northern oceans of the homeland but now they were posted to engage the threats issuing out of this part of the Deinistadi approaches as this part of the world was known. A very unstable area that would have to be perhaps invaded and stabilized and incorporated into the Empire at the absolute worst.

The ship was home to besides her crew of technicians and the crew that drove the ship and manned the many weapons systems that were key to keeping the vessel safe and protected. And allowing it to serve as the long arm of Mcnernian foreign policy there were others aboard. Four Commandos of the Special Boat Service. They occupied some cabins towards the back of the crew compartment and they kept the heck out of everyone else’s way. In the dining hall, they would sit together. Four men wearing fatigues with the sword and waves of the Mcnernian Special Boat Service. They were joined by two others who wore suits that were more like submariners, men of the Special Operations Craft Force, SOCF, who manned everything from submersibles to the high-speed insertion craft. All six people aboard answered to the Kingdom of Mcnernia Special Forces, all were well trained and capable of handling their part of the mission to the letter. The mission was to get the four commandos ashore and see to their success on the beaches in the face of the odd insurgent group, seeing to their success meant that they were on the beach. It would be a night operation with the submersible barely emerging from the waves in a hunt for red October style maneuver that would see the commandos into a rubber raft and rowing ashore. Then they would hide the raft for a possible extraction once the patrol was over. Of course, the submarine would probably be gone. There was always something to do on the ship and as the current meal was being served the commandos were discussing their options.

“We bin a raft on shore, we got diving gear. We could be found out.”

“We use snorkels, what if they have sentries that could spot a boat.”

“SATINT Assured the Director that there would be no problems, at least until we got further inland and even then, we should not have problems if we keep our heads down.”

The dining room was not packed, people tended to eat at their stations, trays of prepackaged food was the norm but the dining hall had fresh stuff in it. None the less the team leader spoke what was the obvious thing under the electric lighting and a portrait of the King. His Majesty had patronized the submarine service and had handed out portraits of him in a Naval uniform staring with those dark eyes at the viewer in front of the flag of the submarine service and the white ensign and the national flag. The frame was silver and had the ships badge stamped into it with a laser cutter.

“Keep your bloody voices down.”

“Yessir.”

In hushed tones, out of the earshot of the cook who was cleaning up some teriyaki the SBS planned how to take down the threat that awaited them about a day and a half away.

The Prime Minister did not like to be summoned to the Situation Room in the middle of the night but the issue could not wait, it was a ship that had been hijacked and Mcnernian oil firms in Riysa were concerned, investment in the local business as much as there had been investment in Mcnernian firms but the issue of computers.

“Well I suppose this is about the refit for I&G Energy’s Natural Gas rigs?” Why else would the Minister of Energy be here at the Sitiuation Room. Or was it National Reactions with their desire to sell the Riysans a few of the latest export reactors? Both would perhaps have a need for Nifonese computer parts like what according to the Ministry of the Interior readout was on the Kobyashi Maru that had recently been hijacked by Jacque Sparrow a ecoterrorist and a known pirate. The Director of the SIS was on video comms as was Director of Special Forces, Chief of the General Staff and Minister of Defense were in the situation room in person with the Foreign Affairs Minister.

“Well not entirely, the shipment is something that could help Riysa and it could have a effect. Something about the power grid for Tel-Al or was it something to do with the oil fields. Or armaments.” Noting that Riysa had a major armaments industry that had been deemed on par with the weapons Mcnernia produced and then there was the issue of the Lyrans being relatively silent on the whole world market. Riysan armaments firms were well placed to meet this demand.

“Mr Prime Minister our shipping routes go through the area much the same and we have to be able to have faith that the local government, with escalating crisis situations the Royal Navy and perhaps even the Commonwealth and Empire cannot easily be called on to deal with a piracy threat.”

“We need to deal with the militias that are against the Government of Sunda.” Holtworth looked across the table at the Minister of Foreign Affairs who nodded. Getting the Sundaese government in their pockets with aid against the rebellion would cause the destruction of a potential Communist threat to the nation and the region. International capital was a key thing and Mcnernia as one of the premier capitalist powers would be humiliated and would lose the worlds credit as how they could be a power if they could not hold onto the world’s oceans to keep their shipping and those foreign vessels that were registered one of the numerous merchant ports of the country and there was something to say for the trust of the world.

“We have special forces in the area.”

“Four commandos, this won’t be a counter terrorist operation. There are all kinds of things that we have to consider.” The Chief of Staff looked out from his video screen at the Prime Minister. Tow of the big monitors were devoted to comms with the main one devoted to a split feed of data and media. The Nifonese news service was all over the issue of the hijacked freighter waiting on the Shogun to speak about the issue.
“We shall watch, I want all birds on the overpass trajectory to prioritize shipping in that area. I want things to be ready. See if Dai Kuong has any drones available.”
“533rd Drone Wing should be ready, long range Strike Hawks, a derivative of the Global Hawk should be good for this.”

At Dai Kuong Airbase, the machines were brought out. A massive facility home some 6 wings of the Royal Air Force at any one time and two of the local colonial RKIAF, the Royal Kaisongese Air Force a part of the Royal Kaisong Islands Defense Force. While smaller by far than the Royal Air Force there could be little difference between what was regarded as a prime force to support a greater interest and that force which had the greater interest at heart. The 533rd Drone Wing was something oddly unique and the fact was they were assigned a long-range strike mission that could take place anywhere in the world. They could pack up into C-10 transports and be on the other side of the world at a moment’s notice. They had MRTTs of the A330 variety, there were other drone units that had a flight of airborne command aircraft at least to ensure that they could command their birds form a place that would not be attacked by terrorists. The scenario that had appeared in a OSA magazine article had haunted the MRAF who had been quick to authorize a program for the A380 and A340 derived airplanes.

But the Strike Hawk drone, a Global Hawk that was reconfigured to carry four anti-tank missiles that could shred the vehicles of a terrorist group that would be going up to today. The operators were seated in an air-conditioned trailer and the drone was wired up to their numerous monitors that they sat in front of with an option to use augmented reality headsets, actually Virtual Reality headsets that could make the pilot and the drone one. If the crew tired as the drone orbited around the target there was an AI that could be activated and good AIs were hoped to be like the AIs that governed some Sci-Fi ships such as the High Guard cruisers. The Royal Air Force it was said had space ships and battled things that the Queens people were fighting on other worlds but that was all hokum and lies.

The drone was soon flying, the pilots, a weapons officer and a pilot looking at the runway as it fell away beneath the bird. Soon enough the machine was on its way south and west into the vast depths of the Pacific and out towards the crisis area in Denistad Approaches.
Polaria
Erin Islands
Kaisong Islands
Al-Azkar
Rhodana
Eragh
Arisal
Kirav
Neu Engollon
New Edom: Clyde Hullar Ambassador
Aurora
Children of Aurora
A Luta Continua
Aneas
Tyrennia
Golgoth
Pardes
Cornellian Empire
Rostil
Sondria
Ajax
Astyria

Greater Dienstad
Minyang
Endorser of the Amistad Declaration
SIgnatory of the Amistad Declaration
IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH MY RPing, TG ME PLEASE, THANKS A BUNCH.
A Time of Trouble
All my posts shall be dedicated to Tom Clancy. May he Rest In Peace.
I Consider the above to be Canon. Which means I want to RP with you if you've been in those regions. Or Are.

Call me Archinia ICly and well maybe Mcnernia is plausible....I don't know.

Lore change?

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Mokastana
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1566
Founded: Feb 20, 2007
Democratic Socialists

Postby Mokastana » Mon Jan 23, 2017 10:36 am

HMSC Fairy Reel
Montana Inc Convoy


Steve Davison stood on the deck of the lead freighter in Boomer’s convoy. The Civilian XO stared out into the night. The darkness revealing nothing ahead to him, only the radar and GPS systems continued to inform him they were on the right path. The lights and the instruments panels kept him iliumated and awake, as did the shitty coffee. Most of crew slept at night, or what would have been night back home. The local time zone was off by a few hours, meaning the sun was now setting around midnight instead of seven something. It was, something in the morning back home.

It had bothered the Captain that the Sultan's Navy had failed to respond to their escort request, but that's what the guns and PMCs were for. Even if most were asleep at the moment since it was night shift. Only Steve, a PMC Sergeant named Chuck, and two other crew mates were on the bridge. The Radio Operator/weather tracker named Mariah, and a PMC on the Weapons Control/Radar that Steve couldn't quite remember the name of. Somewhere on top of the super structure two more PMCs manned a mortar/machine gun nest, but they were effectively just spotters in case radar missed something. Not that they would be able to see anything tonight.

“Hey Chuck, I need to piss, mind watching the Bridge?”

“Sure.”

Steve smiled before turning down the back hall, passing the kitchen where Jorge was preparing lunch. Sandwiches with baked potatoes were on the menu. Given that the good vegetables gone within the first week they ate only for subsistence really. The canned veggies were on a every other day basis, but that was ship food for you. Somehow Jorge and Diego made the bland canned and sealed stuff taste great, but that might have been mostly due to Steve's unrefined palate. Still, better not to bother the chefs when they work. Last thing he needed was a pork and spit sandwich to munch on.

The loo was just next door, tiny and functional, but he got the job done. Barely did he need to turn around, not like he could much, to wash his hands. Every inch of the ship has been cut down and measured, maximizing cargo room, sacrificing little things like 'comfort' or 'living space' to work, but the job paid well. Making it back to the Bridge Steve could feel the shift in tone from when he left. For one, Chuck was over the Radar guy's shoulder speaking into his personal radio, Steve's Spanish wasn't as good as Boomer's, but he understood the conversation:

“Rebecca, Fernando, you awake?”

The radio static responded: “Si, Que pasa? Chuck”

“I need a illumination on Starboard Side, two hundred meters out.”

“Rodger, flare on Starboard, two hundred meters.”

This time Steve spoke up, switching to the language of the Merc: “What's going on?”

“Looks like numerous small boats coming right at us. Get the Captain and LT.”

“Of course.”

Steve turned back down the same hall he just left, the Captain's quarters were close, just as close as the closet sized loo he just used. Only this time he moved with a purpose. Technically, Steve out ranked the PMC on the Bridge, but he Chuck well enough to recognize the urgency in his voice. Quick knocks on the Captain's door, wait a second, a few more louder. Steve could hear the grunts of the Captain waking up. Though it was barely thirty seconds for him to get to the door, it felt like a lifetime given the adrenaline that startedcoursing through Steve. Finally, the door opened.

“Steve, what's going-”

Rapid pops in the distance interrupted Captain Boomer, as did the louder rapid thuds of the ship's own .50 Caliber gun.

“Issue an SOS, I'll get the gun locker opened!”

Steve nodded to the Captain and ran back to the bridge. Already the Sergeant had killed the lights so that the Bridge would be less of a target, but Steve noticed the broken glass in the window. Shots had been fired. The first klaxon of the alarm was finally going off, probably activated by Mariah or Chuck.

“Have we sent out an SOS yet?”

“Not yet. But Rebecca and Fernando are in trouble, I need to back them up.”

“Go, Captain is getting the gun locker, stop their first.”

“If I have time!” into his radio: “On my way!” Then Chuck was gone out the back, leaving Steve in Command on the Bridge.

Gun fire continued around them, both the pirates and the PMC's own gun emplacements. The Fairy Reel had two mortar/machine gun combo stations. Usually requiring a crew of two on each. Rebecca and Fernando were on one, the other has been left unmanned. No doubt Chuck or one of the others was going for it now.

One crew member on deck was manning the radar/fire controls still, but the phalanxes would need to be aimed manually against these boats, the loud thunder from one of the phalanx systems told Steve that the crew member was trying. The other crew member, Mariah, was at the radio, Steve looked at her, and she continued her SOS message on open channels.

Steve went to the other communication line and opened a channel to the rest of the ships:

“We are under attack by pirates. Weapon lockers free. Get flares in the air to make targeting easier. PMCs follow protocols.”

He turned around to see the Captain and PMC Lieutenant making it on the bridge, rifles at the ready. Boomer passed a lever action rifle and box of shells his way with a stern look on his face.

“Load up.”

The PMC officer took the radio and began issuing orders to his soldiers across the ships. So far the only ones firing back were the two Assurance class vessels in the front and back of the convoy, their .50 caliber guns working well to stand their ground.

“Good thinking turning off the lights in the Bridge, but we need lights on the deck in case they try to board us. Turn them on. The rest of the PMCs are already been issued M4s and getting into positions. One bastard didn't even get his pants on in time. This your first battle with Pirates Steve?”

A machine gun raked across the bridge, breaking more glass before he could respond. Everyone reported in safe, even the crying woman issuing the SOS. Hands shaking loading the rifle, Steve merely nodded.

“First time for everything. Steve, we got six trained soldiers with assault rifles and body armor. Two machine guns and help on the way. Mariah! Did we attempt to reach Naval Station Pascal?”

The Lieutenant responded: “I'll contact them.” Switching from Spanish to English, he spoke on the radio: “Naval Station Pascal of the Common Territories Imperial Navy, come in. This is the Holy Marsh Civilian Ship Fairy Reel. Our convoy is under attack by pirates. We need assistance. I repeat, we are a military supply convoy under attack by pirates, requesting aide.”

While the call was going through, Captain Boomer looked up and saw the grappling hooks land on his deck under the lights. Into his own radio he barked:

“We're about to be boarded! Starboard side at mark three! Rifles ready!”

Boomer aimed his own lever action rifle towards the hooks while elsewhere on the ship PMCs did the same. It would be a fight to take this ship. Besides, it's not like anyone onboard actually spoke Dorian or caught the mega phone messages of the pirates.
Factbook
Montana Inc

Quotes about Mokastana:
Trust the Mokans to be armed even when among their allies
-Zaheran

The fact that the Mokans hadn't faced the same fate was a testament to their preparedness, or perhaps paranoia
-United Gordonopia

Moka you are a land of pimps, prostitutes, drug lords, and corruption.
We love you for it.
-The Scandinvans

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New Aeyariss
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Founded: May 12, 2010
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Postby New Aeyariss » Mon Jan 30, 2017 11:45 am

OOC" Sorry for short and awful post. I need to keep this thread alive, but I am feeling as if my gut was rotting.

*** Kurushima

When looking at the stories of Dai Nifon Teikoku Kaigun, one could not omit a man going by the name of Honda Kazuki - currently in command of a Red Herring class diesel propelled, AIP submarine "Ro-64", one of most deadly weapons that Kaigun had at this moment to offer. Captain Honda Kazuki was greatly happy that the honor of being in command of II class vessel fallen on his shoulders - especially judging by the fact that such an acheivement and position greatly nobilitated him - and by extension, his family - in the eyes of his countrymen, letting them gain more prestige by the fact that one of their kin is in command of such glorious vessel. While it was still not a nuclear submarine - which was considered the peak of the achievement - Honda was eagerly aiming for such an opportunity, which, he believed was going to happen soon.

He was sitting here now, in the cantina in the Nifonese base in Kurushima, the oversea possession of the Dai Nifon Teikoku in this heavenly father forgotten region. Sailors who entered and passed by could not stop wondering at his posture - Kazuki was short in his height, even for a Nifonese. His face was square - like, eyes small and constantly moving around, ears tightly clad to the head, chin reflecting shape of the face, and raven dark hair showing first signs of graying on top of it. Surely, physically wise Honda was not imposing; but there was an aura of mystery and secrecy around this character, even as he was playing a game of go with a friend of his, a Kaigun Rikusentai SOF officer in his late thirties.

"And to think that they want to use us for such a task.." spoke the SOF officer moving a white stone directly into one of the corners "Although being here is most likely better than dealing with some commies in Mawani or another Heavenly Father forsaken land..."

"Do not complain" smiled the Captain moving black stone, closing off his encirclement "It appears that you just lost two stones Hachirou-kun"

"Bakayara!" the SOF officer was visibly angry that he let himself be tricked into such a situation "Pass."

"Pass for me" the captain joyfully looked on the board "Looks like I win by 24 points."

"I swear, Honda-kun, next time I am going to beat you even if I have to shatter this damned board." the SOF officer poorly concealed frustration from his countless losses against the navy officer. He was upset, though under the cover of competition was in fact friendly rivalry focused on mutual self-development.

"Make sure to take the board on deck." smiled the navy officer before leaving "We have a long trip ahead of us... so you will get your chance."




Honda Kazuki stood at the top of the sail, observing the lights of the coast slowly disappearing beyond him as his vessel was sneaking out, using darkness and the fact that according to Tokkeitai no satellite was going to fly over the area at the moment. This was the moment of trial, and the admiral knew that - after all, he has been training for such events his whole life. Turning away, he slowly descended beyond the deck, quickly reaching the bridge. Here, a familiar regime welcomed him, one he was too accustomed to.

After short time of leaving the port area, a single command has fallen:

"Depth control, control!" spoke the admiral over wire communications system "Set depth to one zero two meters!"

"Control, depth control!" quickly came disciplined answer "Set depth to one zero two meters, depth control aye!"

A series of subsequent commands about speed & depth quickly followed after, setting the submarine on course: the nest of all scum and den of vipers known as Tortuga - a place where Tokkeitai suspected the Nifonese hostages may be held, and thus needed more information about. Alongside the SOF team an operation from Gunpeitai where an operative posing as arms dealer was going to be placed in the city.

And thus the submarine departed into the depths of the ocean, to finally take part in what was to be one of grandest Kaigun anti-piracy operations...

ORBAT:
- 1x Red Herring class diesel propelled, AIP submarine "Ro-64"
+ 8 Special Operations Forces personnel

- All Tokkeitai intelligence assets.
Last edited by New Aeyariss on Mon Jan 30, 2017 11:46 am, edited 1 time in total.
Rping in MT (2023) and PT/FanT (1564)


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Bolrieg
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Postby Bolrieg » Wed Feb 01, 2017 7:13 am

The Open sea.

The now semi-famous privateers known for hunting down anti-whalers and other pirates were now on their way to the Babar Islands hoping to make a fortune capturing vessels of the sea thieves and taking their loot. (In their eyes stealing from those who stole was not a crime as long as they sold it back to those who had it stolen in the first place then again...)

Anyways the commander of this "fleet" (For the most part a load of vessels with rag tag groups of mercenaries, veterans, fisherman and those who never been to sea but have been engrossed in too many pirate stories for their own good. Real combat would harden them up though or at least what the commander hoped for.) Juhloulus Jesanbed a man in his early fifty's with greying hair and a short black beard that was grey in only the very bottom part of his beard had a patch of white on it, the scars on his right cheek and across his left eyebrow was an obvious sign that he was a battle hardened navy veteran who fought in the Succession war as well as many years experience of privateering for the crown and others who paid the right price for his services.

He was nervous however because he received a loan from not only the Crown but from other rich and powerful people in Bolrieg such as Kladnov, Lord Ambassador Dfragre and many others. These people didn't finance his expedition out of the goodness of their hearts they wanted something in return. In the case of the Crown they wanted more Bolriegian influence in the region, maybe even some land at the pirate's expense. In the case of the others they wanted a sizable share of the fortune, if he didn't deliver on any of his promises they will be wanting his head so it was in his best interest to make a fortune.

The Shores of Kurushima

Jesanbed and his "fleet" had arrived at the safest Island (for himself at least) in the region as Nifon and Bolrieg were staunch allies as well as the fact the Nifonese had offered him a contract beforehand so it was just as simple as knowing the region and soaking up as much information as he could before he headed out to sea again. When they finally ported he alone got off his ship as the rest were ordered to stay aboard for the time being, meanwhile he set off to find the highest ranking official on the Island.

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The Selkie
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Founded: Sep 17, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby The Selkie » Wed Feb 15, 2017 5:47 am

The Whalelord, it should be noted, was not a Pirate Captain taking his duties as host lightly.
Sure, the Captain of the Kobayashi Maru and his crew were his hostages, but therefore also his guests. They were held in prison, yes, but treated well, both in the ways of food and medicine.
And that was not only because of the fact, that they were an investment for him, but simple human decency and culture. The islanders in the area practised hospitality as a sacred act and he himself was from a culture, where it was held in high regard as well.
That all being said, the old Captain was still rather surprised, when he was told to freshen up and to come with the guard – he was to have dinner with his captor, the Whalelord, Captain Sparrow.
As he was led into the room, he was a bit surprised: Sparrow wore a suit much akin to the one he wore in the video, handkerchief in the breast pocket, and stood up with a friendly smile as the Captain was led in.
“Ah, Captain, good to see you – I already expected you.”, he said with a wave of his hand to the chair opposite to his. “Please, do have a seat.”
Knowing, that he would have a few very nice talks with the intelligence services of his country later, the Captain did as he was asked to and took in any detail he could get: They were in a sort-of cave or dungeon, maybe even a castle dungeon, the walls around them build into the massive stone. There was no telling if that was true, but he suspected, that they were subterran, as there were no windows and a ventilation system was always running. Light was provided by lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling, cables running along the walls openly.
As he was seated, the Captain noted the silverware, fine plates and the generally rather nicely done table in their little room. And the two guards, both with handguns at the ready.
“Now, I'm afraid, that we couldn't hijack a sushi freighter in the meantime...”, Sparrow joked as he sat down, “...but the cook did his best. The local seafood cuisine is to die for, mind you, especially by her.”
There was a moment of silence.
“You're asking yourself, why you are here, don't you?”, Sparrow asked as the two of them waited for the food.
The Captain made a face. “Actually, I am more interested in when my crew will be released.”
Sparrow smiled. “Once the ransom has been paid. As your Shogun already promised your people, that my blood will be spilled and that my head would be paraded around on a pike or something of that kind, it is rather unlikely, that this will happen any time soon.”
The Captain let his head hang.
“Don't worry. He'll come around.”
“If you plan any measures of retaliation against my crew for the not-payment of the ransom...”
“I am not the uncivilized and bloodthirsty barbarian your people make me out to be, Captain.”, Sparrow interrupted with a small smile. “I would even dare to say, that it's quite on the contrary, but that's also a bit arrogant, so...”
“Then why did you hijack my ship and hold my crew for ransom?” The Captain was a bit confused – and if he was to have these talks with the intelligence services, he would give them every detail he could get. And... there was a bit of curiosity.
Not sympathy for the pirate or his cause, but curiosity.
A small voice in the back of his head said, that it was indeed curiosity, which killed the cat.
Sparrow raised a hand. “One moment, please.”
From another entrance into the room, a woman came, her face badly scarred by something that looked like marks of fire, carrying two plates, one for each of them. It was a simple, absolutely un-fancy meal of rice with vegetables and small pieces of fish in a red, hot sauce. As a drink, there was tea.
The young woman threw the Kobayashi's Captain a glare, that would vaporize other people in an instant. Other then that, there were no signs of hostility except something mumbled under her breath.
“Smells good.”, the Whalelord complimented the woman, who blushed, bowed and retreated again. Sparrow turned back to the Captain with a small bow. “I'm sorry for my cook. You see, she isn't really a fan of the Nifonese. Most of us aren't.” There was a short moment of pause, Sparrow motioning to the Captain. “If you want, you may speak your graces before the meal.”
The Captain nodded and hurried to do so, a small prayer for the safety of his crew as well.
With that done, the old civilian looked at the Whalelord, who smiled. “I believe, your people now say Ittadakemasu, right?”
Itadakimasu.“, the Captain corrected gently, bringing his palms together and bowing his head, before blushing a bit. He had completely forgotten, that he was actually having dinner with his captor, not sitting at a friend's house back home. He cleared his throat. “That is, how my people usually do such things.”
“Very interesting.”, Sparrow said, “I once read somewhere, that Itadakimasu...?” The Captain nodded. “...means something along the lines of 'I am going to receive the lives of animals and plants for my own life.' A show of appreciation for Mother Earth for making it possible, that one has something to eat.” He smiled. “Funny how things sometimes change, isn't it?”
The Captain nodded. “Whatever you plan, you will not achieve it.”
Sparrow took a spoon full of the dinner, smiling. “What do I plan, then?”
“You plan to turn the wheel of time back, to end globalization and to ground the advancement of humanity to a halt in order to spread communism, liberalism and similar gajin-values to the world and Nifon.”, the Captain said with a firm voice, glaring at his opposite, not taking any of the food.
“First off, eat.”, Whalelord said with a smile after he swallowed, “It's delicious. Second...” He leaned back. “I appreciate, that you speak honestly, but I must also say, that you are victim of a great misunderstanding. I am an eco-pirate, not a communist revolutionary.” He put his spoon down to gesture with both hands and as he ran along, he picked up both pace and passion. “You see, I am well aware, that the global connection between markets can not be halted or even turned back and the exchange of goods, ideas and information helps humanity a great deal – what I, and my group, oppose is how we achieve all of that. We oppose freight lanes through environmentally sensitive areas of the sea because they're shorter and the operators of these lanes can make a few more bucks for a price far higher then their gains. We oppose the industrial hunt for fish in such areas and close to shores, where it robs the local populations of their base of living. We oppose the hunting for whales. We oppose the usage of fossil fuels and nuclear power.”
There was a small pause, which Sparrow used to take a calming breath.
“Green Technology is not a myth, you know.”, he said with a smile and took a spoon of his dinner, “The technology is there and it is easy to use – it's better then anything, that we currently have. Why not use it?” He swallowed. “Another thing, which isn't really eco, but still very important to us here, is, that the Barbar Islands are given back to their people. The people can hardly feed themselves and their families. And why? Because some son of a bitch, excuse my wording, decided to sell access to the EEZ and the fishing grounds to the highest bidders and anyone else. It's robbery, clear and simple.”
“Then why not protest peacefully?”
Sparrow took a moment to reply. “Are you familiar with the Right of Revolution?” The Captain nodded. “I'm not an eco-pirate because it gets me all the girls, Captain. I tried other ways, many of them... I was there, at the Battle on the Grassy Square, you know?”
The Captain looked at him in confusion.
“Ten years ago, a huge protest formed in a city I visited, in Wembury.”, Sparrow explained, “Wonderful city in the Free Lands of the Selkie. I came there with a group of people protesting against a nuclear power plant being planned in...”
That moment, another one of the pirates entered, this time rushing over to Sparrow and whispering something into his ear. “What?”, the Captain of the Pirates replied and frowned, “He did?” The pirate looked over to the Kobayashi's Captain. “Go ahead.”
“Well...”, the pirate repeated out loud, “Someone paid the ransom.”
“That's good news!”, the hostage cheered, looking forward to seeing his family and friends and everyone again, bringing his crew home.
“The problem is, that we are quite sure, that it wasn't any Niffies.”, the pirate continued with a frown.
Sparrow leaned back. “Well... we promised, that we would release you once the ransom has been paid. It has been paid. So... we will release you in a few days.”
“In a few days?”, the Captain asked with a frown, “But...”
“Don't worry, I won't go back on it.”, Sparrow said, “A pirate's word shall be more worth then the word of the Shogun of Nifon, it seems.” The Kobayashi's Captain wanted to protest, but Sparrow continued. “We just need a few days for a few preparations. That's all. For now...” He glanced down at his dinner. “...the food's getting cold. Want to join us, Aadhi?”
“No, thanks, Captain, I'll prepare everything.”, the pirate said, gave a respectful nod to the Kobayashi's Captain and turned to leave.
After he had left, Sparrow gave a small smile. “As said, we don't really like you Niffies – but we respect your people. Let's get back to it – now, if you don't mind me asking, where exactly are you from?”

Three days later, the Captain of the freighter Kobayashi Maru woke up in a hotel in Tempat, not a five-star-one and with a few of his crew in the same room, but with a note on the desk.
Sorry for sending you to sleep the day before, we needed you like that to make releasing you easier. You might feel a bit of nausea from the sleeping gas., was written on it via computer on a clean, white sheet of paper.
Of course, the Captain immediately contacted the police, the sheriff inviting him for a tea, the SDF being there before anything Nifonese could be there. The crew was subject to a short interrogation by the SDF and a medical check-up, finding nothing out of the ordinary.
A later investigation by the SDF Military Police revealed, that the rooms of the Kobayashi's crew were paid for in advance, by a man the innkeeper could not remember for the life of him (“Yeah, right...”, the lead investigator stated with a knowing frown), that the bills used could not be found (“How about those new ones in the corner?” - “Nah, they're not it.”), that the paper only had fingerprints belonging to Sparrow and the Captain on it. Both the paper and the ink used were less then remarkable, more like the stuff one could buy in the drug store around the corner.
Two days later, Commander Bragach welcomed a small ship of the Nifonese Navy to pick up the Kobayashi's crew.
The day after that, a freighter vanished in the general area.
I play PT, MT and a bit FT. I am into character-RPs.
My people are called the Selkie, the nation is usually called the Free Lands in MT-settings. Thanks.

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