[TWI-ONLY] [IC]: The Spectre

[Orsandia]

The Spectre

OC

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Synopsis

Orsandia, a peaceful nation mired by a traumatic and war torn past, has seen the stability of its young democracy deteriorate in revelation of attempted election interference and apparent corruption by the past government from classified document leaks. Protests and demonstrations rise across Orsandia, signaling wide disdain towards the very institutions Orsandian blood was spilled for. Polarization and political tensions are heightened as rival factions clash on how to handle this issue. Reginald WIlliamson, a young and outspoken politician, is now Prime Minister, and must work to quell the communist sentiment from growing in Orsandia in reaction to these events. Little does he or others know, that this reincarnation of evil has been growing this whole time, ready once more to throw Orsandia and its neighbors into chaos.

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Posts
Note : There is no set date to post, however please post in OOC thread or as it is permissible. If you would like in on an idea/particular topic of the RP, please indicate so in the OOC thread.

[Orsandia]

January 19th,2017
Executive Quarters, Guangfeng, Orsandia

DAY ONE

---

"Hey chap, fetch me some tea will you, please ?"

"Right away sir."

The reality and weight of being Prime Minister was finally beginning to dawn on him. Reginald Williamson sat at his desk, with a single cold sweat running down his face, staring attentively at the television in his office. He had done it. He had survived an attempt to alter election results, attacks, and an onslaught of rising political tensions through out Orsandia, and now, this young, charismatic firebrand sits at the helm of a young democracy.

"This is my destiny to lead." thought the visibly stressed Williamson.

It had just been revealed that former cabinet members of the past government had been involved in insider trading, on top of being revealed to be the two principle figures within Orsandia to be behind an attempted bout of election interference during the past election. The storm of leaks, and exposing of corruption has finally hit Orsandia's doorstep.

"Here is your tea, Prime Minister." murmured his assistant.

Williamson sternly responded : "Thank you, now please vacate my office, I have important matters to attend to."

It was truly important matters, indeed. Shortly upon entering as Prime Minister, Williamson was tasked with orchestrating a government investigation in what could be the greatest case of Orsandian corruption in recent memory, one with the desired ending of placing the treasonous traitors to justice. What really caught Williamson's eye, however, was the growing protest in Yang Kong being covered by ONN. Since the establishment of a democratic system in Orsandia, following years of a bloody revolution, the greatest fear amongst the countries leaders was preventing communist and radical sentiment from gaining a foothold ever again. As angry protestors chanted "1-2-3-4, the working class is going to war, 5-6-7-8 its time for the proletarian to smash the state !" Williamson angrily scoffed.

"Those damned buffoons. Do they not know that the very ideology they espouse was responsible for Orsandia's past strife ?"

All across Orsandia, thousands gathered in major population centers to protest the Orsandian support for capitalism, and corruption spurred by letting "the rich exploit the government for their own benefit", with the Old Orsandian flag, a symbol of the countries oppressive, leftist past of Orsandia, visible in broadcasts and publications.

The Prime Minister picked up the phone on his desk, and placed a call.

"Marcus, I need to you to round up members of the cabinet, we must have an emergency meeting at once."

"Will do, Reginald. See you in a few."

As, he placed his phone down, Williamson could not even begin to fathom the magnitude of these growing protests and the ever-growing threat presented by them.

[Aruia]

January 19th,2017
Sasirna street, Town of Bar'lson, Aruia\Orsandia borders

It was a quiet afternoon at the Melfinos residents, where after a long day of work in the post office Lucas came home with his own mail directed to him. Mostly bills, some ads backed by companies overlooked by Aruias trade and commerce center. His neighbours kids were busy mowing the lawn and gossiping about a local celebrity scandal that happened last week which might make him move to the big city.

"Did you consider taking me on that offer?"

Lucas line of thought was caught off by a voice and a figure stopping him on his way up to his house.

"OH hello Mr Larcer."

He greeted him shortly with his mind in the bills mostly and thought mostly about sitting infront of the TV to catch the next episode of Port Lysen'dos, which was left on a cliff hanger and was about to start any minute. "I keep telling you, that job offer at the trade office will be filled by someone else if you wont take up that offer fast. Its a shame you waste your expertise in the field on a border post office." Mr Larcer kept talking until, escorting lucas to the front door of his house where his fiance greeted him eager just as much for the show "The show is starting, come on already Lucas!" she shouted him where finally Lucas snapped and cutted Larcers talking short.
they both sat on the couch with a bottle of Hoopoe Pops "Finally, wanted to see what would be the yacht owners response to being cought witnessing smuggling the stolen statue" Lucas fiance said to him and he nodded. And just when the title ended the show was cutt by breaking news.

breaking news alert to all residents at the Bar'lson region

Goodafternoon we interrupt this program to alert on escelatioin at Orsandia, with the protest growing ever more large. Governor of Bar'lson issued to Valerios office a worring expression regarding the unfolded events where he wish
"The Prisdents office must overlook closer this escelation for the safety of the region that share a border with Orasandia.
majority of the regions citizens majority of them work on the border area, the regional authority will take extra safety measurement and instruct business owner with safety procedures to hand out to their workers."
no comment from the preisdents office has been made yet as we speak, this was Bar'lson news breaking news and now back the program.

The Television cutted off back to Port Lysen'dos where it was broken off.
The two sighed in relief thinking they might have missed some stuff while lucas thought to himself he will have some work talk for tomorrow both on the news report and tonights episode.

[Thuzbekistan]

Prime Minister's Office
Ashluv, Thuzbekistan

Along a quiet shoreline in Thuzbekistan, the City of Ashluv lay quietly beneath the mountainous backdrop to the West and South. Though the hustle of the center of Thuzbek politics would soon begin, the mist that lay upon the town each morning was yet unbroken. The gray skyline of towers and the ornate, golden brown palace of the Magistrate of the Old Republic, broke through the gray clouds. All was calm, it would seem. But soon, the call to prayer would begin and, as if by signal, Ashluv would come alive. The Sun would break through the mist and the people would file off to work. The parliamentarians would be in their offices, the janitor retrieving his broom, and the sleepy students would be in their classrooms.

It was among this peaceful city that the Prime Minister knelt upon his prayer mat which had been hand stitched by his grandmother when he was but a child. As the call to prayer rang throughout the city, he lowered his head down to the mat, then back up again. When his Salaat was completed, he rolled the mat back up and placed it on his shelf. Finally, he sat down at his desk, ordered his papers, then rang the small bell to let the various ministers and advisers, mostly unbelievers, know that he was ready. Like an avalanche, they poured into his office through the heavy Oak doors.

"Good Morning, Prime Minister," the foreign minister said quickly. "I trust your prayers were well, but we need to bring this to your attention." As he spoke, he placed a file in front of him with the Top Secret printed across the top.

Prime Minister Alaattin opened the file and flipped through it. "The Orsandian Protests? What of them?"

"Orsandia just had some major leaks," the head of his intelligence network, Zeki Selman, said. "The Communists are making a surprising come back in the more rural areas of their nation. There seems to be enough public hatred for the government there that we can make this a true communist revolution. From the fields to the capital buildings themselves."

The Prime Minister smiled. "They were socialist just a year before us and fell only 20 years later," he said. "Perhaps now they can execute the Revolution and make it last."

"With our aid, of course," Zeki said.

"Of course." The Prime Minister leaned forward and put the file down on the desk. "What do you propose, gentlemen?"

Zeki stepped forward and handed him another file with the "Ultra Top Secret" code written on top. The Prime Minister opened it and looked through it. He read it for a few minutes as the Foreign Minister, aides, and Zeki stood quietly. As he finished, he turned to look out the window to his left at the city below, then back at the Foreign Minister and Zeki.

"Its risky," he said finally. "Get the Samuderans on board. We can direct the operations and the Samuderans can supply the material. Get our agitators on the ground and start stiring things up as soon as you can. We can't let this moment go to waste."

With a quiet hush, the men left the room to begin their work. As they did, the Prime Minister looked over the Charbagnia file again. Two revolutions at once. It would be difficult, but the Thuzbeks had almost always succeeded in these sorts of things. It would do so again.

[Orsandia]

January 24th,2017
Guangfeng, Orsandia

---

"Is everyone here ?"

"All cabinet members, parliamentary figures, military, and intelligence reps are awaiting your meeting, sir."

"Excellent, lets get this show on the road."

Williamson enters a large, high tech meeting room with televisions and equipment placed on each side of the room. Flanked by advisers and aides, Williamson finds the room full of the most important members of the Orsandian government.
"Good evening, everyone." stated Williamson. "I am certain you know why I called all of you in."

"Is it about one of those rogue nations we have been conducting surveillance on ? New Aapelistan ? " blurted a overly giddy General.

"No, but this does pertain to our national security and stability as a country. Please listen to what I am about to say."

Williamson began : "As you and I both know, our prosperity,freedom, and very way of life is a far improvement from what had plagued us years ago. It is through the sacrifice of our brave men and women, that our people no longer have to suffer under Communist tyranny anymore."

The attendees listened attentively, eyes fixated on the Prime Minister.
"Even though this holds true, the revelation of corruption in our government, has emboldened those who wish to carry on a legacy of Il-Chang, a tyrant and oppresor who represents the worst of Orsandia's past. Folks, protests and the preservation of free speech is sacrosanct to our values, a hallmark of democracy, if you will. However, it is apparent that these protests grow more tense and radical as each day passes. It has been government policy for so long, regardless of party, to actively work to prevent such a blight from ever returning to Orsandia again."

"With this being said, we must work with each other to prevent communist rise in Orsandia again, do we have any leads ?"

A collective look of shock and and fear permeated throughout the room. It had only been about 20 years ago that Orsandia was embroiled in a bloody civil war between the Communists and the Orsandian Liberators. The carnage and destruction was still ripe in the minds of Orsandians across the nation.

"Sir" chimed in the head of the Orsandian Security Agency

"Go ahead."

"Our intel reports have shown that these protesters and their organizers are certainly far-left in origin. They are getting funding from an unknown source somewhere in the Isles. We suspect either it has something to do with a nation attempting to destabilize the country, and Gael with it OR a country with less than favorable relations with us."

Williamson looked serious. "And who might these nations possibly be ?"

"With high confidence, we can confirm it is not the Samuderans, Athara Magarat, or any other rival to Gael nations. As per policy and intelligence sharing, we have been keeping an extra eye on New Aapelistan, but nothing is coming up. One interesting thing though, is how invested the Thuzbekistanis are interested in this."

"Thuzbekistan ?"

"Yes sir. We don't have established relations with them, and their government has often signaled signs of hostility and tension towards us and other allies. Check this, they even released a news article swiping at our government, and showing a little bit of extra sympathy for the protestors."

The OSA head hands WIlliamson a newspaper. He slams it down on the desk.

"Those damned Thuzbeks. They have no place to criticize how we handle affairs in our fair country. Especially coming from the mouths of the government who rejects free markets, individual freedom, and true democratic values in favor of far-left viritol. That crazy commie Alattin needs to mind his own business, since I'm sure he wont be too happy if we called them out on human rights violations, on top of other things."

"Are you insinuating military intervention, sir" clamored one of the Orsandian Generals.

"Absolutely not. There is no concrete evidence of any foreign involvement yet, but we have to keep our options open and remain vigilant in the face of potential tensions."

"Prepare a formal response to those damned Thuzbeks. Beef up security at all government installions. Generals, I want a expedited audit of our forces capabilities, and troops to be on a heightened state of alert."

"Are you..." interrupted the general.

"Yes, lower the alert level from Blue to Green."

"Get on the phone with Ostehaar & Dormill and Situra, as well as other Gael allies. We need to try and prevent this from getting out of hand."

[Ostehaar]

January 24th
Close to the Oster border, Orsandia

The engine roared as Splinter's blue-and-black land rover accelerated, morning views of the surrounding Orsandian countryside passing by. Her gaze was fixed at the horizon and her foot locked on the gas pedal, but her mind was cruising somewhere else entirely - thinking about her destination. It was her first time across Ostehaar's southern border, but she was no stranger to the issue at hand. With ten years of experience in tracking down proxy groups of New Aapelistan around the eastern parts of The Western Isles, she was considered one of the Vaalar's top counter-communism operatives.

The road turned. Splinter held the clutch down to shift gears and released it gently, barely jerking the vehicle at all, before gliding around the turn at a nearly absurd speed. The other Oster operative in the vehicle was forced against the side and held his door armrest firmly. Silver Bullet glanced at Splinter's eyes from the back seat through the rear view mirror, as a gesture of discontent. She caught his glance.

"We're not in a hurry," he said dryly.

She snickered. "That's how I drive." He wanted to respond, but his secure mobile phone buzzed alive with a call. Splinter recognized the voice of the caller as he asked for a situation report.

"Yeah, it's Silver here. Splint and I are on our way to Guangfeng... I think we should be there by noon. Sure... Alright, I'll tell her. Yeah, thanks."

"What did he want?" She asked, her eyes still on the road.

"We got the formal approval," he said, a smile of satisfaction spreading on his face. "Williamson spoke with the Prime Minister a few hours ago and requested our help."

"So no need to keep a low profile in the capital, I assume?"

"That's right," he confirmed. "This now an official Vaalar operation with the Orsandian Security Agency, maybe even with the BSI, and we're officially assigned together."

Splinter released a short laugh. "Well then, nice to meet you, officially assigned partner Eraan Khuhnert." She said in a lighthearted tone and nodded in greeting.

"Nice to meet you too, officially assigned partner Elena Brent." He nodded back.

---

January 24th
Vaalar warehouse in Lindastir, Ostehaar

"Everyone here?"

Nine faces looked at Tom silently, assuming he would interpret this as a positive answer. He surveyed his audience, making sure they were in full attention.

"Alright, let's get this over with as quickly as possible." He cleared his throat. "We were on our toes for the past few days about this, but since we now have the approval, we can get things rolling and do what we do best. We might get help from the OSA and BSI, but that's still being discussed and there are no clear answers, so we'll have to assume we're operating alone."

His listeners nodded in understanding.

"At the moment we have two operatives down there. I don't remember their full names but you might know them by their codes, Silver Bullet and Splinter."

There was a murmur of appreciation from the audience. "Everybody knows Splinter," one of them said. "Nice to know she's back around."

Tom hummed in approval. "So they're going to meet the OSA at the capital and judge the situation once they do, and then we'll have more information to work with. Meanwhile we're going to wait here for their word, and work on infrastructure. That means geo-spatial analysis of the protest areas, preparation of communication equipment for the operation, making sure we've got everything ready and adjusted... the whole nine yards. We need to be completely prepared to move south the moment we get the confirmation and the specific details of if or how this cooperation is going to happen."

"How many will be going there eventually?"

"I'm not sure yet," Tom replied, "but it'll be me and at least two or three more top-level operatives, with up to five or six others. We'll know more in a few hours."

"Objectives?"

Tom sighed. "Again, it's too early to tell. I assume it will involve close up monitoring of the communist protests, identification of important or leading individuals, finding out if they get some foreign help and through where, set the ground for special operations in case things escalate... at the moment your guesses would be as good as mine."

[Aruia]

January 24
Aruias Greater House, Ar'ksen City, Aruia

The hallway to presidents chamber area was silent. Many of the advisors and office workers were sent home early today.
"Why was i sent early if the papers for next sitting are expected for tomorrow morning?" cried one Benice
"seems President Delfalco took Governor Ba'rlsons requests serious and the backing from the opposition and coalition, he wishes to emphesise Aruias stance on the situation. I am not ready for a noisy thursday." Silvon sighed as they locked the office door behind them.
Valerio sitting now in the chambers media room, had a blank face as he was gazing into the teleprompter and back at his advisors.
"Maybe i should make a second rephrasing befor the recording?" Valerio asked his advisor, who shook his head "Lets go with what we have, we need to publish a live response while the Gaels major media has its attention on Aruia." his Advisor stated
Valerio nodded in agreement and waited for the que to speak.

The counted down ended and Valerio lifted his gaze to the cameras lense and began to speak:
"Leaders of Gael, residents and friends. As the days go by it is undeniable the possibility of an inevitable escalation into a civil uprising in Orsandia. Aruia as always wishes to refrain on the outskirt of any involvement of conflict and believes the efforts for the betterment of the people should be prior, without derailing into incitement that may strike violent reactions for peoples residing on the shared borders. In response to Thuzbekistanian Foreign Minister Nalik I ask that all statement shall be doused and be constructive to the situation. The Coastal Republic always offered its hand in resolving this tensions In the region and would like to find a way to mediate this before a point of no return where those neighboring Orsandias border shall be the first to feel the tremors of this violence. I call upon leaders of Gael, partners in office, please accept my invite in a mutual conference to discuss this matters in highest alert. We cannot afford this incitement in our area."

Once Valerio finished and received the que that the transimission ended he got up and readjusted his jacket "This call out better receive some reaction. Bar'lson region cannot afford any of this, not with the area still recovering from recent tidal waves." He turns to his advisor "we will need to go through the numbers again for any worst case scenario and action possibilities should any of them refuse the call, blocking the borders will be the main agenda if anything happens." Valerio stated once everyone left and only him his advisor and chief of command stood.
"Mr president" Lorence spoke "Let the Defending units do it job first, we don't need to spy to get our intellegence we done what we needs to do for the sake of stability on our side its their turn. Please, we cancelled all further agendas for this lets go back to our offices and prepare for tomorrow. We still need to decide if to close all borders in Luvtar and Ba'rlson in the worst case." Lorence stated and left the media room, while Valerio followed behind her.

[Thuzbekistan]

Lahpso Taha

In a diner just outside of Lahpso Taha, Serhan watched as protesters gathered and wandered as they waited for their organizer to give the word to march into the city again. There were hundreds of them out there now, chanting at times as speakers began to motivate the crowd. "1-2-3-4, the working class is going to war, 5-6-7-8 its time for the proletarian to smash the state!" Serhan shook his head as he listened. It was obvious that these weren't anarcho Communists. Organizers, marching tunes, and even columns of workers in seemingly military order contradicted the entire premise of anarcho-communism. Everything about this carried the tune of authoritarian authors and leaders. One last chant, though, and the Organizers led the marching workers off to face another bout of tear gas. As he watched them march down the road, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He had to hold back the urge to immediately attack the man as he looked up to see a short but strongly featured man. His clothes were red and black and his face rough and weathered. Obviously someone of a militaristic past.

"Sir," he said in English through a thick Orsandian accent, "you don't seem to belong here."

"That would make two of us," Serhan said slowly. "You should be marching with your men."

The gruff looking man smiled, then extended his hand. "Yong Jun, I believe you are expecting me."

Serhan didn't return his smile, but he did take Yong's hand and shake it as he stood, noting its callused texture. "It's good to meet with you at last, Yong." He motioned for him to sit. "I read over everything that was said on the web. I trust you understand the nature of our meeting."

Yong nodded. "That I do."

"Then you have the information we requested?"

Yong nodded again and produced a folded piece of paper. "That contains everything from number of arms to trained fighters. Many served in the armed forces for conscription. We are somewhat organized. The toughest issues are those of communication and arms. So far, we can only organize these protests via known social media sites to be effective. More effective communication would be the most important help you could give us."

Serhan listened as he read, frowning at the state of weaponry. "You are most certainly correct about the state of your arms," he said flatly. "We will have to provide you with everything from rifles to anti tank weaponry." He looked out the window as a second crowd formed before looking back to Yong. "That won't be easy. Your organization could also be better, but its adequate for this early phase."

"We aren't an army, you know," Yong said with a slightly raised voice. "We are cobbling together a revolution from angry boys and old veterans of the il-Chang regime. As you said, That is not easy."

Serhan looked up at Yong as he raised his voice, his eyebrows merely twitching in response. "I understand the difficulties of spontaneous revolution, Mr. Jun. That's why I'm here."

Yong nodded. "We are doing the best with what we have. We need more ways to reach the people and to organize our rallies and meetings. If I tried to have all the leaders in one room or even a conference call right now, I guarantee you that we would be arrested on the spot or every word reported right back to the government. We need secure methods of communication, transmission, and a source of arms that will enable us to do what is needed. That is why we are willing to ask you for help."

"I understand, Yong," Serhan said. "We will be able to do this for you. But we have to get a route in. That will be organized after this weekend. We have to communicate with our allies in order to get the arms to you. I'm just saying that this may take more time than was stated to you."

Yong snorted. "Time that we may not have."

"You'll have it, Yong." Serhan said firmly. "I can promise it."

"You better." Yong reached into his pocket and placed a small post it with a phone number on it. "That's the only secure line we have. Call there when you can provide this." Then he got up and marched out to the new crowd of workers, jumped up onto a make-shift stage, and began to fire up the workers around him. They responded with cheers and they all followed him as he led the march towards the city.

Serhan sighed, shaking his head as they chanted the 1-2-3 lines again. He would have an interesting report to write.

[Orsandia]

January 26th,2018
International District, Yang Kong, Orsandia

---

Staff Sgt. Kaoshing looked outside the humvee as it whisked through the streets of Yang Kong. It was a marvelous, bustling hub of technology and business that was the powerhouse driving Orsandia's economic development. Usually the streets are packed with citizens in business attire, hurrying along down the streets, but today was not the case.

"I'll be damned, people are really upset about the new leaks."

"Ditto, bro. Look at all of those people in the street."

After additional leaks from the Keverai incident afflicting other nations across the isles, tensions that were already high began to hit their peak, leaving Orsandia divided, with half angrily marching in the streets, and the other trying to carry on as usual. The protests grew larger and bolder as each day past, with far left sentiment being echoed from them.

"Look a these ones here, Kaoshing" said the solider sat beside him.

The humvee whisked towards the International District of Orsandia, home to some of the nations biggest companies and firms, as well as several consulates belonging to Orsandia's allies and neighboring nations. Particularly, Kaoshing and his comrades of the Epsilon Company, from the 21st Infantry Regiment were being tasked with security operations to oversee a peaceful voluntary evacuation of the consulate offices of Ainslie and Samudera, with larger protests mounting a serious security risk to their safe operations.

"Poor lads, what a shame a bunch of angry bastard commies are causing this much of a ruckus."

Epsilon Company pulled up to these consulates, guarded by fencing,barricades and road stops, to prevent protesters from getting towards the buildings. As Kaoshing and his team departed their vehicles, the visibly large crowds began to jeer at them.

"TRAITORS !"
"Why are you defending those capitalist roach enablers ?"
"You will pay for this, counter-revolutionary scum."

"Oh, shut the hell up." scoffed a solider, who proceeded to spit at the crowd.

"We are here on a security assignment, not to piss off a bunch of angry reds son, get it line." barked the sergeant
"Sorry sir" murmured the solider

They approached a visibily strained riot police team, as consulate officials and workers hurriedly whisked documents and vital equipment into vans parked outside.

"I am glad to see you" said one of the officers, "These protestors are really pushing it today, we just have to hold them off until the consulate staff can evacuate to their main embassies in Guangfeng."

"We can see that, for sure." piped up Kaoshing.

"All right team, we need to help the security forces here keep the peace until the vans can leave, get to it." ordered Kaoshing.

A glass bottle was heaved over the fence.

*glass breaking*

A startled solider jumped. "What was that ?"

The noise began to pick up. Security forces in riot gear began shouting at the crowds to move back, and the crowd shouted back at them. One of the riot police tossed a canister of tear gas into the crowd, sending them moving back towards Downtown, throwing rocks while scurrying back.

"What a site, lets hope this doesn't blow up into something bigger." said a Solider

Kaoshing, sharing his soliders bewilderment and shock, replied "Don't get your hopes up, Corporal"

[Dormill and Stiura]

24 January, 2018
Room 320, Palace of the President, New Avillon, State of New Friesland, Federal Republic of Dormill and Stiura

The heavy wood doors guarding the entrance to the highly specialized strategy room of the President swung open as Cedar Dyson barges through, briskly walking to his seat just a few steps ahead of him. A silenced room stands before him as he sits down, with large screens turning on in front of him. As the doors close behind him, Justin Abraham stands a short distance away. He was brought in by the President earlier that morning to discuss the development between the Center-National Party and Dormill and Stiura Forwards over the course of the administration. That was the case until the President was called into an emergency security meeting with his security staff, Orsandian, and Oster officials.

Leading the group out from the room where it happened, Justin intercepts the President in an attempt to continue their prior conversation, "Ah, Mr. President."

"Mr. Abraham, sir."

"You've been in there for quite a while. Is everything alright with our neighbors?"

After taking a moment to consider a reasonable answer, Dyson began his response, "You know of the Keverai Leak?"

"I saw it on the news a few times. I suspect this has something to do with those?"

"Yeah. The leaks revealed deep rooted corruption in the government of Orsandia. This motivated the OccupyOrsandia movement that has grown in size and volatility in the last few days, it is currently presumed that the movement is motivated by known and unknown socialist organizations in the nation and potentially outside the nation."

"Do you suspect Kaelectian involvement?"

"At the moment, neither the Bureau nor the Commission are operating under the assumption that there is Kaelectian involvement. It's a lot less work on our hands."

"You should give it a try though, you can't be certain with them."

"If there's a need to. But there isn't any need as of now."

"You're too young to remember how merciless they could be."

"Well they aren't now. I don't know why you're concerned about Kaelectian involvement. Look, the plan is that the Bureau is going to start working together with the Vaalar and the OSA with the hope we can contain this issue before it gets out of control. As long as it doesn't go further than that, we'll be fine."

"I have to ask, Mr. President..." Abraham began before being cut off by Sarina Clemens, Minister of Public Security.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Abraham, I've got to go."

"But..."

"We'll finish this later, sir."

---

26 January, 2018
Azewijn Army Base, Azewijn , nearby the Orsandian border, State of Upper Kaelectia, Federal Republic of Dormill and Stiura
A triad of Jeeps file out of the base and on their way southwards towards the Orsandian border along the river, within it contains the 5th Joker's Deck squadron. They were recently ordered to head for the Orsandian capital to meet with Vaalar agent Splinter and Silver Bullet.

"You know. I have to admit that I like Vaalar codenames compared to our numbers.", one of the members mentions in their own car, "makes them a lot more mysterious."

"Well, if the Empress gets ousted, we can push the new director to give us codenames.", another responds.

"What is the deal between her and the President anyways?"

"If I can guess rightly, the President is trying to perform damage control against the Bureau for the recent leaks. This would likely include putting the Director on a tight leash, or just removing her entirely. But he hasn't yet because he knows she can crush him if she reveals his knowledge of SIR-17.1215C-P."

"Which one was that again?"

"The one that told him and Richelieu about Urgent Light, which was revealed in those same leaks."

"Ooooh, that's a messy situation."

"Yep, but it seems like the two are growing more confrontational. If the National Congress intervenes now, they'll be both completely screwed."

[Orsandia]

January 28th,2018
Executive Quarters -Guangfeng,Orsandia

---

Accidentally deleted post : Ahnslen Consulate evacuated

[Ainslie]

26 January 2018
Aboard VOA Radiance
7:24 am

The radio was doing its usual squawking. It may have been true that birds don’t fly over the ocean too much, but this necessary hindrance gave an ominous feeling of home - those birds which would announce the sun's rising and falling. Soon enough, the radio made the trademark sound which grabbed the attention of whoever was in the room.

The navy personnel very quickly learnt what fellow sailors meant by “the patrol boats are the true front lines”. The patrol boats typically monitored fisheries activities, attempted illegal migrations by boat and other various search and rescue tasks that need AHNAV support - their role was quite flexible, whereas the navy outside of Ahnslen waters had their operations done in a more logical manner.

“VOA Radiance, come in - rescue response required.”
“VOA Radiance here. Where’s the rescue?”

“You’re going to need to cross into Orsandian borders and land near Yang Kong. A vehicle will meet up with you, which will have various employees of the Department of Foreign Relations. You’ll need to bring them back to the town of Volara where they will get a transport to Arborai.”

The vessel, which was off the shores of Runare, raced towards the estimation.

25 January 2018
Yang Kong, Orsandia
9:34 pm

“Arae.”

“Arae, Consular-General. We have been talking to the Orsandians recently, particularly the security forces, and they have recommended the evacuation of diplomatic staff from this city.”

The Consular General looked down briefly at his papers, and then back up - solemnly.
“And Guangfeng?”

“We have been in recent contact with them as well, and they are currently sending their non-essential staff back to Arborai.”

“The ambassador?”

“Is remaining in Guangfeng for now, but is near the telephone if anything sudden happens.”

The Consular-General had not been very concerned by the recent events in Orsandia. It was pretty normal for the Orsandian commies to be up in arms. However, the recent Keverai leaks seem to have torn a bigger hole out of the national stability of Orsandia than he expected. Unrest was not greatly obvious in Yang Kong, but perhaps things were different in Guangfeng. Yang Kong for now was quite stable, but the report that his Federal Corporal placed on his desk stated that security would be reduced in the city in order to reinforce some other areas of the nation - that would change things...

The diplomat breathed heavily, and responded once again.

“I suppose we must leave then.”

Another Federal Corporal just walked in, stating that they needed to be out by 8am the next morning.

“Noted. Thank you, Sergeant. Now, get it sorted.”

The roads were busy between Yang Kong and Guangfeng and it appeared that the roads were not very reliable. They most likely were extremely busy and somewhat dangerous - even if the commies were not there.

The Sergeant closed the wooden door behind him and then began ordering that various things would be done around the Consulate. The Consular-General sat in the chair, listening to the organised chaos which surrounded him.


The next morning

A jeep rolled along the underused, poorly maintained road.

“Surely the highways aren’t worse than this”, the Consular General asked.

“Sir, I can assure you the highways are packed - you do not want to be on them”, a Federal Corporal riding with him rebutted.

They only were using a few jeeps and a small supply truck. They wanted to be stealthy, since there was no need to stir up a fuss. Additionally, they didn’t want to draw a crowd.

It had taken less than 40mins to reach the shoreline. A helicopter soon descended from the trees which surrounded them. The vehicles made their way to the clearing.

“Sir, keep your head down - the helis are gonna kick up some dirt and dust.”

The rotors were slowing down - it was time to get in.

One patrol boat. That’s all AHNAV spared for this. One patrol boat, and one helicopter. Three or four hours passed until all that they had brought with them was on the boat. It was a spectacular boat, a true feat of Ahnslen innovation - it was by no means small on the scale of patrol boats.

The Consular-General followed the driver of the helicopter through various passageways of the vessel, until the natural light became quite strong. A lieutenant was standing in front of a desk-like object, looking out of the front windows.

“Hello”, the Consular-General said.

“Good afternoon, Mr Consular-General. Welcome to the VOA Radiance - our destination today is Volara, a beautiful township on the shores of Norlands - one of the few actually pleasant places on the western Norland coast.”

“Good to know, lieutenant. The report mentioned something about Arborai?”

“Yes. A transport shall pick you up within a few hours of us getting you on the ground. We cannot bring the patrol boat near shore, since, well, its a small seaside township and we’re also not risking the shallow waters.”

The thought of another three hour operation to get back to Ainslie annoyed him greatly, but he understood the need to leave after reading the report. He was glad that he was safely back in Ahnslen waters, and would soon be in Arborai. He was not entirely sure what would happen next. Perhaps a plane back to Arnton? Not even the Lieutenant knew, apparently.

This had all the signs of a secret operation - yet he did not agree to anything of that nature.

[Samudera]

January 30th
Foreign Minister’s Office, Ashluvian Palace

He enjoyed the warmth of the Foreign Minister’s Office, as he was still not used to the cold of Thuzbekistan. After following the aide assigned to him, Bintang was led to this very office. It was indeed a big and comfy office, with fireplace in the back to warm the room. Sitting across the table was the Thuzbekistan’s Foreign Minister himself, smiling and staring intently at him. Those eagle eyes, as his military friend would said, studying him and his gesture.

“So, to start off,” breaking the silence, “We both know the current situation in Orsandia, and how both of our nations decision to utilise it”, Nalik said to him. He nodded in agreement, having briefed before by his superior. He couldn’t quite contained his excitement when he was briefed, yet he knew the responsibility that had rested upon him.

“It’s the time, for the people of Orsandia to ignite the fire of the revolution, to bring down those capitalists and restore the people’s will. With our help, this could be realised,” he spoke with burning passion.

“We offered our support to the your plan, and with that, to support the will of people of Orsandia,” he then added as a matter-of-fact. “We are ready to cooperate with our brother in arms.”

Nalik didn’t even tried to hide his gleaming smile. “That’s what i wanted to hear. We shall spread of the fire of revolution in the Isles, and no one could stop it.”

This is the big time, he said to no one but himself. Bintang then handed the briefcase to Nalik, a briefcase that contained the said plan. He then stood up from his chair and firmly shook Nalik’s hand, feeling confident that he had changed the world.

“Let’s go to the Conference now, couldn’t risk people knowing our whereabouts,” Nalik said while striding to the door.

January 31st
Yang Kong, Orsandia

Bima casually walked past the protesters in the heart of Orsandia’s capital. He had been watching the demonstration since the beginning of it, right after the CBC leaks hit Orsandia. His life as a pharmaceutical college student in Yang Kong State University forced him to passed the demonstration almost everyday in his way to the college. It didn’t really affect his life in any meaningful way, before his phone ringed. He answered the call, and cracking sounds filled his ear before a deep voice came in, “Operation Pandawa commenced.”

[Thuzbekistan]

It was a dark night as the merchant vessels pulled into the small harbor. It was surprising how fast the Samuderans had enacted their networks here. In the cover of darkness, communist rebels were unloaded the weapons they needed to take this fight to the government. Serhan stood with his arms crossed as he watched crate after crate be unloaded to be delivered to the various safe houses across southern Orsandia. Of all the ops he had been on, these rebels were probably the most organically organized he had seen. Their options had been limited at first, but now, with these tools, a real revolution was possible. Despite his emotionless stare over the badly lit dock, he couldn't help but feel that boyish excitement that had been so vacant over his years in the TIS. He let a smile slip as he thought about what a successful revolution would mean for Thuzbekistan.

As he pondered the possibilities of success, a pickup pulled up beside him and Yong Jun jumped out and directed his escorts to begin loading some crates. Then he turned to Serhan, a smile stretching from ear to ear. "You really came through for us, Serhan," he said as he slapped his back. "With these, we can finally start the war we need."

Serhan nodded. "We need to succeed here, Yong," he said as he watched the last crate be unloaded. "There won't be many more shipments like these, but we will support you indefinitely."

Yong nodded. "To the bitter end?"

Serhan didn't answer at first. "Hopefully it doesn't come to that."

Yong let a scowl show before looking back at the ship. "I think that's it," he finally said.

"For now, that is. You'll need heavier weapons as time goes on. We gave you plenty of RPG's for the initial stages. The navy should be deploying special forces as well." He turned to Yong as his voice lowered. "And they will be here until the bitter end, no matter what."

Yong nodded slowly. "I will thank them if it comes to that."

For a moment, the two men watched as the communists moved about in the dark orange glow of the lights. The ship was readied, then set off. It would be back two times over the next couple weeks if all went well. As it left its moorings, the men both left.

[Orsandia]

February 4th,2018
Executive Quarters -Guangfeng,Orsandia

---

He stared intensively at the large screen in the situation room, flanked by advisors,intelligence, and military generals, and watched helplessly as the screen showed protesters throwing Molotov cocktails and anything within reach towards security forces protecting the Ahnslen embassy.

"Please tell me the situation is under control." groaned Prime Minister Williamson, notably on edge from the sudden deterioration in Orsandia's security and resurgence of far-left sentiments.

"We have a platoon dispatched to assist in guarding the embassy." said an advisor.
"The Ahnslen staff evacuated in one piece, now its just finding out how to scare off the protestors."

"Thankfully." blurted Williamson.

"We need to plan."

"For what ? "

"For the worst, I don't think this is gonna turn out like we hope."

"We will just have to wait and see."

"Look, one of the riot police just tossed tear gas !"

Williamson and the others in the room glanced as OBC showed protestors scurrying away from the Ahnslen Consulate.

"A close one." sighed Willamson. He was visibly distressed by the Communist re-emergence.

"Why me ? What did I do wrong to cause this to grow ?"

It was no question that the rapid deterioration of events in Orsandia certainly began to weigh on the Prime Minister's conscience, as he found himself questioning his leadership abilities on a more frequent basis than before.

"Now, we just sit and watch." Get me on the phone with President Dyson as quick as possible. We are gonna need some "hardware" to prepare ourselves if this situation goes south.

---

Yang Kong, Orsandia
It was all a blur. His fellow angry comrades scattered as a riot police officer tossed tear gas into the crowd. Yet he still stood. Alone against the tide of security forces.
Xiaoyu Chen, a college student at the renowned Portino Institute of Technology angrily glared towards the security forces guarding the Ahnslen Consulate.

After all, they were pawns of a "illegitimate" capitalist government propped up by foreign powers. Like his hero, Yim-il Chang, he had been inspired by the works of Marx, and became a feverent defender of il-Changs legacy, and communistic internationalism at heart. Chen was an only son from a poor family in Lahpso Taha, in Southern Orsandia where support for Communism and the preservation of il-Changs legacy was high. He had to carry on the goals of his ancestors.

"Imperialist bastards, get out of my country !"

He picked up a rather large stone, and ran towards the security forces and threw the stone.

"AAAAGHH !"

and a riot officer fell over as Chen proceeded to flee with other protestors.

Chen heard a crack and felt a hot sensation in his calf. He had been shot with a pellet !

He had to continue running, if he stopped, he would surely be arrested.

As he ran down an alleyway, a females voice called to him

"Hey you, in here !"

As police tailed him, he ran inside the building, the door shutting behind him.

"Nice work kid, you have the true demeanor of a revolutionary !"

"Who are yo-"

"I can see it in your face, sit down. Protesting is not gonna cut it anymore. Follow me, I will tell you everything."

He entered a room, adorned by old Orsandian Communist flags and posters of Il-Chang himself.

A banner on the wall read "The Left Hook of the Proletariat : Join the PLF ! "

[Verona Beach]

Upper Kaelectica, Dormill and Stiura
0300 Hours
A Nondescript Farmhouse

The night was quiet. Just quiet enough, James thought to himself. He stood upon the field, surveying the horizon slowly lightening as the pre-dawn in north Gael began. The land plot was practically inaccessible to cars and prying eyes- it sat far atop a cliff in the border highlands, and the plateau atop could only be reached by one easily surveyed dirt road. A squat farmhouse and decrepit fields topped the picture, with distant views into northern Orsandia. The pink lights of the country in turmoil quietly blinked in the distance, seeming ominously peaceful.

It was all terrible for farming, but perfect for what it was being used for now.

James headed to enter the farmhouse, but his military-issue landing boot caved through a rotten plank on the front porch. He fell, lopsided, into the crevasse. Scrambling, he regained composure and entered through the door swinging crazily on one hinge. The house was kept this way not due to a faulty budget or due to a lack of care-- no, this was all intentional. The official record showed that the farm, formerly the McKillan family farm, had been abandoned for years during one of many of Dormill and Stiura's civil war and a bad harvest. In reality, the Dormill-Stiuraian government had snapped up the property after the family left and sold it to the Veronite government as a staging base for VOICE (the Veronite foreign intelligence agency) missions in Gael. Today, it would fulfill that use.

James emerged with his parachute and suitcase- a strange configuring of objects, made stranger by the fact he was dressed like a factory worker. It seemed he had emerged from the safehouse on time- the low rumble of an aircraft engine was heard crossing from the north. The small aircraft, painted in Skyward Airways livery, dipped down towards the earth, softly rolling onto the hard-packed dirt of the makeshift runway. The whole operation was like clockwork- James ran up to the plane, clambered in, and was off the ground in less than five minutes. It took but five minutes more to cross the Orsandian border, and again like clockwork the navigation lights switched off for the aircraft.

0330
Orsland Industrial Region
Orsandia
A small park with a pond, glistening in the moonlight, provided the perfect landing spot for James. The pilot gave the green light, and a final act of perfunctory planning dropped James from the sky and sent the Skyward flight to its chartered stop in Caranoor, Ainslie. James tumbled through the sky for a precarious few minutes until his parachute violently erupted open, blooming into the moonlit sky.

He scraped to the ground, rolling as he landed next to the pond. Upon further inspection, he found it was not as pristine as it looked from the air- it was a tailings dump surrounded in trash and industrial waste. James- No, he wasn't James. From then on he was Henry Dorthenheimer, Orsland native and machinist in the automotive industry. "Henry" unclipped his bag and gathered up the regurgitated entrails of his parachute, wadding them together into a bundle in his arms. He found a discarded refrigerator box- it smelled like a transient had lived there- and stuffed it in carelessly. He sealed the box and shoved it into the tailings pond, letting it sink with the only evidence something strange had happened here. Henry grabbed his briefcase, chuckling, and began walking next to the road calmly to town.

After a fair distance, he looked around and saw a brown rowhouse with three stories. It was so small and almost identical to the other houses adjacent to it, but there was one thing that distinguished it- the name "Milton" on the door. Henry grappled for his keys and ID papers and unlocked the door, stepping into this unfamiliar house like he had lived there his whole life.

[Ostehaar]

February 4th
Vaalar warehouse in Lindastir, Ostehaar

Tom Raana stood near the door to the main office, sipping from a hot cup of tea and gazing at his team's workstation - a large hub of computers, servers, file-packed shelves, and a whiteboard full of notes and diagrams. Three men and six women were working quietly, exchanging papers, advising each other, and making phone calls, like a well-greased machine. A barely noticeable smile tugged at the corner of Tom's lips as he realized that he could still serve his country, even nowadays when his injury prevents him from going back to do some field work. After more than ten years out there, in the dark and under fire, he found contentment in mobilizing other smart individuals to solve difficult tasks together.

He stepped forward, leaning on his cane and slightly dragging his right leg behind. "Dihna."

"One moment," she said as she kept typing one more sentence. "Yeah?" She turned around on her chair.

Tom approached her post and leaned against her desk, resting his cane by his side. "I just got a call from Splint down south. Nothing specifically interesting but some background information she'll be transmitting here. Other than that, she suggested we try to find more on this group calling itself 'PLF'."

"Ah," Dihna gestured Tom to come closer and look at her screen. "People's Liberation Force, PLF, Urching. Seems to be a trend in some of the forums and you can see it on protest signs in recent days."

Tom sighed, "anything in our sources?"

She shook her head in frustration. "Not yet. Headquarters sent us some reports based on intel from SAFI with indications that the PLF is an interesting target, but they couldn't extract specifics..."

"SAFI?" Tom's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why the hell are the Samuderans collecting about an insignificant faction in Orsandia? Ask for clarification from headquarters. We need to see the raw information."

"Already asked," Dihna announced, raising her finger. "All I got in return was a list of reports from the same source. The only noteworthy detail was about an individual nick-named 'YJ' in the PLF."

Tom released a chuckle. "YJ! There must be a million of them in Orsandia. Yang James, Ying Jin, Yong Jun, Yim Jian..." He did a circular movement with his hand, as if the list of names was infinite. "Well, if SAFI are on it, why don't we check with our friends up north?"

"The Thuzbeks."

Tom hummed. "They might have some information on this as well. Hell, they're probably even more interested in this than we are. Ask headquarters if we have any relevant sources there. I'd love to see their intelligence reports, but given the circumstances I'll take anything. Foreign Affairs, Atilla's office, the ISP... whatever headquarters can give."

Dihne nodded firmly in understanding. "I'll put Joma on it. He used to be in the Thuzbekistan Section in Analysis a few years ago."

Tom stood straight and leaned on his cane again. "Anything from Martin on field intelligence? Locations, access routes, communication...? We'll need it if things escalate."

"Yeah, I think he was almost done with it last time I checked with him," she replied. "He's in close contact with the OSA and BSI regarding possible locations and routes, that's for sure. I'll ask him when he comes back."

"Alright," Tom nodded. "Thanks, Carry on."

---

February 4th
Guangfeng, Orsandia

Elena unplugged her laptop from the charger and closed the lid. The sudden gloom in her room redirected her attention to the nightly skyline view from her window, so she got up from her bed to examine the finer details of the city. She never guessed Guangfeng would be lovely at night, and for a moment an image of herself walking casually in the city's crowded streets between shops and restaurants turned up in her mind.

Maybe in past life, she thought as she closed the curtains, leaving the views outside and darkening the room even more. Her eyes adapted quickly to the dark, and in a few moments she could already identify her surroundings - the half-made bed, her field backpack, and the hallway towards the bathroom. An image of her gun popped in her head - it was in her backpack, right next to the communication device and under the folded tactical vest - Last time she used it was... not long ago.

Elena undressed to her underwear, as she was accustomed to, and slipped under the sheets. After she would finally fall asleep in an hour or two, these sheets, although cold and unfamiliar, would shelter her from the countless memories of dead eyes and war torn streets.

And then tomorrow would come, another day far from home - if there really was such a place for her - with new questions and harder decisions. Who are the PLF? Are they getting outside help? Are the New Aapelistanian demons back from the grave to haunt her, this time right across the border? Are they actually new demons now joining the choir, chanting unintelligible mantras in anticipation for her end? And like that, surrounded by her demons, Splinter gradually dozed off.

A few rooms away Eraan was still awake, going over the information given to them by the Orsandians in recent days.

Tomorrow they would begin the journey to Urching, where the actual work would begin.

[Thuzbekistan]

Urching, Orsandia

Across the nation, news stations were still running the scene of the Anshlen embassy being evacuated. In diners, bars, and train stations, the clip ran over and over as news anchors spoke anxiously of the riots and protests occurring around Urching. There was now a lessening presence of police in many of the poorer parts of Urching. Ironically, it was here that Serhan was now experiencing the most peaceful surroundings of his stint here. The protesters had pushed downtown and grown so numerous that the police were devoting everything to their containment from breaking into windows and homes downtown. At first, Serhan had not believed that they would get very far, that these would end up like many riots did in the modern day- effectively stamped out in their first days or weeks. But as the situation had developed, he had talked to many more of the protesters. Besides the obvious signs that the media experts in Thuzbekistan were effectively pumping out propaganda, the people's concerns were legitimate. Low wages, inequality, and unemployment were taking its toll. Though many of the protesters were too young to remember the socialist dictatorship, they found themselves remembering it only the best of lights. Now, as Serhan waited for Yong Jun to arrive again, he could see that these concerns were being properly blamed on the capitalistic system in Orsandia. He had slowly begun to feel true sympathy to their plight.

As he pondered the probable outcomes, a knock came at his door. He got up and looked through the peephole. As agreed, Yong Jun had come mostly alone. Serhan finally opened the door.

"Yong," he said warmly with a disengenuise but convincing smile. "I'm glad you've come."

Yong returned his smile and the men embraced before Yong stepped into the apartment. "Not a bad place you've got here," he said after a minute. "No windows, thick walls."

"Yes," Serhan nodded. "It's the better of the apartments I've taken in my travels. Will you sit?"

Yong nodded and sat in one of the two hard, wooden chairs in the apartment. "This better be about further shipments."

"That and one other thing, which is what I would like to start with." He sat down as well, then leaned forward, clasping his hands as he did. "The protests have gained international attention. We suspect Ostehaar and its Valaar are actively looking into everything going on down here. Of course Orsandia is, and we've noticed an increase in patrols in Anshlen waters. In other words, the situation here is about to get hot and everyone knows it."

"Obviously, I could have told you that," Yong Jun said indignantly.

"Yes, you could have. But what you don't know is that it means that intervention is more likely. If Orsandia grows desperate, you could be fighting foreign troops as well as domestic ones."

"It's something I've considered," Yong said uncomfortably. "We need those shipments here as fast as possible. You said the second one would be arriving not a day later."

"That was before the Anshlens increased patrols and the political situation grew more tense. Your agitators are doing their job well. We will need to make a coordinated attack sooner rather than later," Serhan said slowly.

"Which we can't do without arms. We have the men, we have the training and organization. We've done all you asked in spreading propaganda and can do no more without the weapons of war. Weapons you Promised!" Yong nearly spat in frustration. "We don't have much time. We have to capture this momentum while it still exists. Otherwise, the people will be disheartened at the first serious response."

"We know, Yong," Serhan said patiently. "We know the situation. But unless you want the next shipment to be caught dead in the water, you will have to wait. We are meeting with Samuderan agents tonight to discuss the details, then the operation will be in full swing. But with the increased patrols, I'm having to convince my superiors that naval assets are needed in the area. With all their minimal presence hopes, its a hard sell."

"You'll have to sell it if we are to stand a chance at a surprise assault," Yong said coldly. "Otherwise, all this will be useless."

Serhan nodded. "I know. I'm working on it."

"It needs to be done as soon as possible," Yong said as he stood. "Now, I have a meeting with a smaller group to tend to. Just get those shipments here."

Serhan stood as well and nodded. "They'll be here."

"Hopefully not before its too late," Yong said as he showed himself out. With a slam of the door, Yong was gone.

---

TSS Veerson In Samuderan Waters

Yalcin Hacer stood on deck of the small merchant ship as she sailed into the Samuderan port, he hair hanging heavily from her head as the cold, damp air made its mark upon her. Though she was here to negotiate passage of weapons, Yalcin had ridden aboard a smaller vessel carrying a shipment of coal to the island nation. As the ship began to pull into the docks of Sripura, she felt unimpressed by the city. Perhaps it was the fog that clouded the ports many lights, but the city felt quaint and gray from what she could see above the thick clouds. The ship gave a large blow of its horn as it approached its designated dock. Even as she began to step down the ramp, she could see her contact standing quite plainly in one of the few lights shining through the fog. She immediately began to walk towards him.

[Samudera]

Sripura, western Samudera

Budi felt anxious as he waited for the Thuzbek agent to arrive at the dock. It was a cold and foggy night. He clutched his coat, closer to his body. His anxiety was replaced by a short burst of cold before his mind settled once again. A man in dark blue hoodie and black jeans… this must be him. Wait no, this must be her. Stepping down from the ramp, she immediately approached him.

“Sir Garry?”, the Thuzbek agent said to him.

Garry was his code name, and he nodded assuringly. He signaled to her to follow him, and both of them entered an unmarked black sedan parked near the dock.

10 minutes later
Budi opened the door to a seemingly normal house in suburban Sripura, and as always the doorframe wasn’t high enough to fit his large stature. He was glad that at least he didn’t hit the doorframe this time. They entered the house, which was transformed into a secret meeting place for SAFI. He turned the heater on, savouring its warmth. He just couldn’t get used to the Sripuran winter - it was much colder than southern Samudera. He took notice of his guest, who seemed undisturbed by the cold. It appeared to him that this must be nothing for a Thuzbekistani. He motioned to her to sit on a sofa in the living room as he placed a laptop on his lap, typing furiously.

“Would you like a tea, or a coffee?”, he asked her casually while he continued typing.

[Thuzbekistan]

"Green Tea if you have it," she said warmly. "Black if you don't."

She sat as she said this, admiring the seclusion of the small home. It was simple and unimpressive, as she had found the rest of the city to be thus far. In all, Samudera as a whole was unimpressive to her. But at least she could ask for traditional teas without catching odd looks from diner goers as she did during an assignment in Ostehaar in the twilight years of her training.

As the Samuderan put the tea pot on the small stove to boil, she sat back and looked out to the dock. Finally, Sir Garry sat before her, a warm cup of black tea in his large hands. "I'm glad you could meet with us, Sir G. I believe we could reshape the political situation in Gael if what we do succeeds. Perhaps turn it in the Socialist favor," she said with a smile.

[Aruia]

Orsandia, Aruias Embassy ,Guangfeng
10th Feb
Ambassador Y'alanso closed the video conference and leaned back with a heavy sigh, looking at the red flag of Orsandia leaning side by side with the Aruian flag in the office.
"Our mutual work with other nations pretty much handed us the information they gathered." Stated one of the diplomats in the room while stirring his mug and leaning in to the now private conversation.
"They were right to do so, if anything, Aruias Embassy has it easy to make an evacuation of the embassy without needing to make a mass plan about it. But as requested we aren't going to send off the diplomatic envoy back home. No there are some other intentions Aruia is going to do, considering none other of our neighbours was interested in talks regarding what President Delfalco foreshadow the possibility of." Stated a general of Aruias Peoples Defending Units who attended the sitting.
Y'alanso turned his head from his chair to the general "And what is Aruias intentions?" he said in a salty tone "Clearly those barricades and defense units outside are not for show."
"We open a refugee option service. We done it before, that way Aruia isn't cluttered with refugees and we efficiently send them off to where ever and not deal with incitement near Ba'rlson region. We have no interest in extremists driven by Thuzbekistany idealogy flowing into our nation. We're trying to maneuver the flames away from our border now that dousing it is not on the table."
Y'alanso stood up adjusting his tie "very well general. If we need to prepare for the worse so be it. We will keep the office running but the prominent diplomats won't stay to watch the city catch in fire." And then escorted general out of the office for a drink to talk among them while leaving his team of diplomats to discuss plans.

[Dormill and Stiura]

Lihai, Urching Autonomous Region, Republic of Orsandia
9 February 2018, 05:45 AM Local Time
After a brief stop-over in Orsburgh to investigate the situation in the major industrial regions of Orsandia, the two Joker's Deck operatives and their squad of BRS agents had finally made their way to Lihai on the coast of Orsandia. Driving into the city was impossible with protesters blocking all highway entrances into the city, which had been suffering from modest fires for the past day according recent news. After being held up in traffic, the squad reaches a decision to just collect their equipment, leave their vehicle, and proceed to their joint safe house on foot.

This was the first time BRS/SI and Vaalar agents met and operated together, making the fateful first meeting a fairly nervous affair among the Dormill-Stiuraians. After arriving at what should be their new home for the duration of the operation, they began to wait. IVs sent from Chery indicated that their Vaalar counterparts would arrive at their location around 6 AM, at which point they will begin setting up.

[Samudera]

He replied to the Thuzbek's agent after sipping his black tea, "Of course, ma'am. And we will, soon."

A gleaming smile was forming on his face, thinking about what will happen soon in Orsandia. He then placed his laptop on the table in front of the sofa, standing while taking out a flash drive from a cabinet near the window. It was just raining when he looked out the window. 'Well, what a perfect night', he mumbled to himself.

Budi returned to the sofa, handing her the flash drive. "This encrypted flash drive contained your part of the Operation Vahana. Our agents are already placed in Orsandian coast and in the port where you arrived a while ago. We are ready and waiting for your signal."

"The time has come", he finished his remark.

[Thuzbekistan]

Yalcin took the flash drive and connected it to a small tablet in her pocket. She looked through it slowly, ensuring everything was as agreed. She then sent a copy off to Thuzbekistan.

"Everything is in order. There is one other thing we will be doing. We need to send merchant ships a couple at a time to small ports along the Orsandian coast. It will be odd goods from Thuzbekistan," she said before sipping the tea. "Things like coal in agrarian areas or mining supplies to industrial ones. Some of this cargo won't be registered. If Orsandian customs does their job, they'll make note of it. They'll search it for a couple days, then allow it to head inland," she said with a smile. "At the same time, our agencies will be sending some reports and hardly coded messages over airways the Osters are listening to regarding the ships being delayed. This will throw them off the real trail that they will surely be sniffing down like dogs."

She took a long sip, then placed the tea on tthe table between them. "As for covering up samudera's part, not one of these ships will go through your ports. This should be enough to give us the time we need to get the pieces on the board and in position for our operations there."

She leaned back in her chair, stuffing the tablet away. "I've been assigned to ensure the real shipments make it safely through samudera, though. So I will be staying here for the length of the Project."

[Samudera]

He smiled as he was hearing her outlining the plan. Listening to it in great detail, he could deduce that it was indeed such a good plan to deflect attention from the real shipping.

"That's good to hear. As long as no one knows about our involvement, it would be great. Tensions have risen up considerably here, and any knowledge about this Operation would be such a catastrophe. Secrecy above everything," he said while closing his eyes. No, it won't happen, he reassured himself.

"We will arrange your accommodation while you are here in Samudera. Peoples here view foreigner with great suspicion. Ya know, those farmers and fishermen," he rolled his eyes while pointing out to the window. He then proceeded to send a message to his superior regarding this secret meeting result.

He then stood up and shake her hands, "It is such a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. We will meet again, hopefully soon," he then winked at her.

"And oh, there will be a black sedan that will arrive here to get you to your accommodation," he said before opening the door.