Catgirl Death Squads: Oceanian Union Begins Neko Purge [IC]

[Forest State]

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This is a new thread taking place in my nation, the Greater Oceanian Union. However, I have posted this opening post from my main account for tracking reasons.

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November 10th, 2018

“I’ve fucking had it with these fucking nekos! I can still remember a time when it was possible to go outside without nearly tripping over these jobless animals lazing around in the streets all day and living off other people’s kindness! They aren’t pets and they aren’t fucking cute. They’re leeches and they’re a blemish on this great society. They’re an abomination, that’s what they are, and they’re becoming too fucking big of a problem to just goddamn ignore. There’s roughly four hundred and twenty fuckin’ thousand of them in the Oceanian Union and that number is going up by the year. It’s time to do something about it. It’s time to come up with a final fucking solution. As someone with a lot of money and a lot of influence around here, I’d like to say that down the line, my legacy will be as the one that came up with that solution.”

The Oceanian Oil CEO, Darl Caradang, looked over the entire room full of company leaders, politicians, and private military soldiers. One of those three was not like the other, but it wasn’t like PMCs were too uncommon in a hyper capitalist society where anything went. The law hardly restricted what you could sell. Violence was just another one of those things, and Oceanian Oil hired more PMCs than practically anyone in the country. When you were involved in one of the biggest businesses in the country and you had your hands in a number of other fields also, you needed to protect your assets and hit at your rivals at times. And sometimes, you just had to do something that was for the greater good of the people. Even if it meant some bad optics.

That influence and importance was also how Oceanian Oil had enough sway to send their mercenaries after even a civilian subset of the population. Would it be controversial? Yes. But would the government step in and put a stop to it? Hell no. Oceanian Oil was practically another arm of the government. If they wanted to find mercenaries to handle what many people in the Oceanian population considered a problem, despite a smaller subset embracing non human races and welcoming them into the Oceanian collective identity, they could goddamn do it.

“I have already gotten approval from the big man himself, Prime Minister Sota Ishikawa. So, politicians, that’s why I have brought you here today. To explain the plan,” Darl continued, as the PowerPoint presentation behind him changed slides to a slick mockup displaying what would happen. “I already have the soldiers through my Knights of Oceania private military company, all that’s left is marching them through your territories and using our gathered intelligence to find the problems and deal with them before this invasive animal infestation can get any fucking worse than it already is. You don’t have to give me any money, any soldiers, anything. I have it all handled, and I already have approval from the government, so things are going to go faster if you just help us by handing over records so we know who to shoot.”

Caradang paused. “I know reducing your own population is never a popular move, but think about it like this. You benefit more in the long run by removing the group from society that doesn’t contribute anything and embodies some of the worst traits in our society such as laziness, freeriding, and other things. It might hurt to rip off the bandaid, but your children will all thank you when they’re grown and they don’t have to deal with a fucking neko infestation or with the separatist nekos that want to steal our land to make a place for their people. Thank you for your attention, everybody.”

“Now. If anyone has some questions, this is the time to ask them.”

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November 15th, 2018

On the first day of the operation across the Greater Oceanian Union to purge the worst elements of society, that is, the nekos, soldiers filed into the streets en masse from the Knights of Oceania private military company, on the payroll of Oceanian Oil. The oil company wasn’t making a profit from this, they were actually spending quite a bit paying the soldiers to enforce this new operation of theirs, but that wasn't the point of it all. The point was to benefit the society that they lived in, not to make money.

There were a small amount of protesters but they were in no position to fight back against the heavily armored (mostly for intimidation) and armed soldiers, who advanced through the streets with assault rifles, machine guns, chainsaws, flamethrowers, and all other manner of weapons. They were allowed to bring their own gear for this, and they had been quite creative with what they had brought. As they advanced through the suburbs of the capital city, Kansaki, there was a trail of blood left behind. Buildings known to have nekos inside them had been marked with a red X on the doorway ahead of time, and now those doors were being kicked down and the buildings themselves were being raided.

At some of the doors, the occupants had attempted to flee, and had been left as shot and severed bodies in the streets when it turned out they couldn’t escape the professional soldiers that made up the Knights. Well, they were as professional as you could get for an army that was made up of military rejects, or just those who preferred to fight for profit rather than honor. Other times, a neko had been seen on the street and blasted with .50 caliber machine gun fire repeatedly before they had a chance to do anything. At least a few times so far during this hunt, some normal civilian had been interrupted by soldiers and had experienced having their neko ‘pet’ ripped away from them and stabbed through the middle with a bayonet right in front of their eyes, with varying forms of resistance from the owner.

News of the purge was spreading quickly, but it would be hard for nekos in other locales to do anything. After all, in all of the cities, the Knights had already deployed and were already in the middle of their own operations. In the countryside, they would be safe for now. But as soon as they interacted with normal society again, they would be flagged for capture and execution by the government, which would be carried out by the Knights.

It was quite the bloody day. One of the bloodiest days in Oceanian history.

But that was just what they deserved. Identity was one of the things held dear to Oceania, and nekos, they weren’t part of that identity. They weren’t even human. They were… An invasive species.

[AHSCA]

The United Island States of AHSCA

To Whom it May Concern,

AHSCA is saddened by the mistreatment of neko citizens of the Oceania Union. AHSCA is not interested in fighting a war causing more damage and lives than it would save so we hope to propose a solution by asking you to show lenience and mercy to let neko leave the country and seek asylum in countries like our own. AHSCA will bear the burden and expenses of transporting them and getting them out of the country. We plea of you, stop the senseless slaughter of neko people and allow them to live and leave.

Noir VinoCacao, Officer for Foreign Relations
Marcella Villa, Duchess of the United Island States

[Greater Oceanian Union]

Communication of the Greater Oceanian Union

大西洋連合のコミュニケ

Communiqué de la Grande Union Océanienne

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To the government of AHSCA,

We appreciate the concern for the ongoing situation in the Greater Oceanian Union. However, we must remind the United Island States of AHSCA that our goal is to solve the problem more permanently, which is why we have allowed Oceania Oil and their proxy organization, the Knights of Oceania, to carry out this operation to purge nekos from this country. We do not want to risk the threat of these people returning later, which has happened at times historically when nations have exiled specific groups. Nor would we like to deal with these people setting up a "government in exile" so to speak and becoming a diplomatic problem for us down the line.

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Signed, Minister of Foreign Affairs Si-Sung Chung

[Atlantian Dominions]

“Next in line, step up please.”

Ambassador Thomas Fairchild stood the door of his office and looked out over the line that stretched across the lobby, all the way to the door to the Atlantian embassy. A small sea of neko asylum-seekers stood waiting anxiously in front of a trio of folding tables that had been erected. Three secretaries sat behind the folding tables, asking a series of questions to each neko and filling out a form.

When the new purge of catgirls had been enacted, the Confederacy of Atlantian Dominions had seen an opportunity. Atlantian businesses made their money by catering to the cultural appetites of Atlantians, especially Atlantian men. That meant female bodies on display. The opportunity to gain customers by offering the chance to ogle catgirl maids, servers, and secretaries was one they couldn’t pass up.

The Atlantian embassy had put the word out that it was offering asylum to catgirls seeking to flee certain death at the hands of the Knights. The three secretaries were taking down not just the neko’s names and other identification information, but also their physical measurements. This was billed as medical information that was necessary to complete the asylum application, but in reality it would allow the businesses who sponsored the asylum applications to selectively admit those whose physical attributes would draw the eye, and customers.

Once their asylum applications were approved, the catgirls would be transported on chartered flights out of the Greater Oceanian Union and flown to the Atlantian Dominions. Once in the Dominions, they would find that the only jobs available to them were service positions and other demeaning employment. But that fate was infinitely preferable to dying in the street.

As he watched the process from the door, Ambassador Fairchild wondered how long they'd be able to keep this up before the Oceanian government started to raise its hackles. He was prepared for that moment, as was the Atlantian State Department. But Atlantian foreign policy was almost always based on asking for forgiveness, rather than permission.

[Allanea]

From: Grand Ambassador Peter Nizhinsky
To: Mr. Darl Caradang, CEO of Oceanian Oil
Subject: Nekos

Mr. Caradang!

Far be it from me to question your execution of your fiduciary duties as CEO of Oceanian Oil. I will also abstain from lecturing you on the ethics of wiping out an entire sapient species based purely on ear shape. Obviously that would be a pointless avenue of discussion, if it were possible for me to persuade you, you would already not be pursuing the course of action that you are pursuing now. Happily, I am not a shareholder of Oceanian Oil, nor do I have the misfortune of being a citizen of Oceania.

So let me move on to business, a subject which ostensibly you're supposed to be good at. Carrying out a campaign of murder is, of course, fairly expensive in the modern day, especially when the campaign is as disorganized as yours. (I'm not going to explain to you how to carry out a genocide properly – you might actually be smart enough to take my advice next go-around). So now you have mercenaries hunting out nekomimi for some reason I can't fathom (I mean, I do realize it has to do something a terminal failure of intelligence and imagination, but I am not really interested in the blow-by-blow). This is bound to be expensive – even if we assume charitably none of the mercenaries get killed, there's stuff like ammunition, fuel, maintenance on the vehicles. Some guy trips and falls and snaps his ankle, you've gotta pay for medical.

I'm proposing you save a lot of this money. The Free Kingdom of Allanea regards immigrants as a valuable resource, and we're entirely willing to organize the departure of some of these nekomimi (by the by, are they all really catgirls? Are there any catboys or catmen or catdemigirls or whatnot?) to the Free Kingdom. We are willing to foot a lot of the bill for their transport and other related expenses.

Now I am just saying, this is a fairly reasonable offer. If you continue the way you are proceeding now I'm not sure Oceanian Oil shareholders will be happy.

Yours,
Peter

[Saralonia]

the Saralonian government has a proposal...

The Saralonian government will accept the nekos and make to them an artificial island and until its finished the Saralonian government accepts loads of nekos to Saralonia and the people will accept them in our society and also they will get asylum and if they what the cat-girls or nekos can get the Saralonian nationality and our government is willing to negotiate


End of the Communicate

[Greater Oceanian Union]

Oceanian Oil Office of Communications

オセアニアの石油通信局

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To Grand Ambassador Peter Nizhinsky of Allanea,

The Oceanian Oil Company thanks the Ambassador for the interest in our affairs.

However we regret to inform you that our decision is already made and that the nation of Allanea should do more research into our nation. While there has been some resistance, the majority of shareholders in the Oceanian Oil Company believe that this move is only making the country better for them, their families, and ordinary citizens, and have put their support behind it. In the general populace, there has been some pushback but not enough to make such an operation not worthwhile. Our mercenaries have been able to deal with all such resistance effectively so far and the majority of the populace has sided with us on this. Nekos, after all, are an unpopular aspect of our society for any true citizen of Oceania who believes in the Oceanian identity that embraces characteristics such as ingenuity, hard work, and self sufficiency.

All of these things are traits not embodied by the neko community, which has at large become a cancer on our society that has taken advantage of our kindness and treated it as a weakness that would allow them to freeload.

Oceanian Oil is one of the largest corporations within these borders and we do not often spend money frivolously. As such, we have quite sizable reserves and can afford to finance such an operation, which we consider a humanitarian one to improve the quality of life for all true Oceanian citizens.

We and the government are also in agreement that we will not risk a future insurgency or a government in exile being set up because of allowing nekos to flee to another country.

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Signed, the Oceanian Oil Company

[Atlantian Dominions]

Ambassador Thomas Fairchild steepled his fingers and leaned backwards in his chair. The first phase of the plan had gone as well as could have been expected. Catgirls fleeing the genocidal mercenaries had been banging on the front gate of the Atlantian embassy. The handful of Marine guards and other staff had had their hands full sorting and organizing them into those who would be accepted and those who would be refused. Now as Knights closed in on the embassy, the Atlantian ambassador was left to tackle the second phase. This was much easier said than done. The Oceanians had decided that they preferred to end the neko issue by matching every single catgirl with a bullet or bayonet. This obviously complicated the proposal of flying out the catgirls now sheltering in the Atlantian embassy.

After a minute of contemplation, Thomas shifted forward and began to type on his desktop computer. He would shape the language of the missive that would be sent to the Oceanian government. Once he'd tightened up the language, his secretary would put the words into the proper format and add all the necessary diplomatic seals. The motivations of the Atlantian government in granting these asylum claims wouldn't be appropriate to put down in any sort of formal document. He was sure he could talk the Oceanians around if he could just sit down with the leadership and negotiate face-to-face.

HIGH PRIORITY MESSAGE
MAXIMUM ENCRYPTION
TO THE OCEANIAN GOVERNMENT
The Confederacy of Atlantian Dominions has taken in a number of neko asylum-seekers. My government has instructed me to find a means of extracting these individuals from your country. I understand that you have taken a firm stance on neko inhabitants, but believe that this issue can be resolved to the satisfaction of both parties. I wish to arrange a meeting with a suitable representative of your government as soon as possible.
--Ambassador Fairchild

[Allanea]

Now, of course, every problem has its own solutions, and the more complicated your problem is, the more different solutions there are. Consider, say, a genocide. One solution is to invade a country where a genocide is ongoing, and fight a war to overthrow the genocidal regime. Another is to impose sanctions on that regime, and hope that you will be able to break its political will. Yet another is to arrest its leaders, and try them for their crimes – sometimes decades after any victims are dead, but at least hopefully this serves to prevent later genocides.

It can be argued that what Timothy Hughes did for a living also provided a solution of sorts to the problem of the catgirl genocide, and if he was pressed, that would be how he described it! He was after all, a hero, rescuing entire families from the Oceanians.

For a price, of course. Hughes was a sailor for the unambiguously named Shifty Shipping LLC. In better days, Shifty Shipping engaged in smuggling – cocaine, automobiles, and bootleg CD. But it was not difficult for Shifty Shipping LLC to alter its operations somewhat. And now, for a price, they would get your family out of Oceania.

The tool of the trade was a long, slender boat, sitting low in the water and painted ocean green. The high-strength plastic of which most of the boat was composed was almost completely transparent to RADAR, and the angles at which the plastic sheets met, like those on a stealth aircraft, had been choosed to minimize its observability. The boat could fit, perhaps, a dozen people, perhaps a few children could go on their parents knees – and it would take the boat perhaps half an hour to cross national waters, a few minutes to gather up the 'passengers' at some forgotten cove or beach, and then sprint vback, to an innocent-looking 'mothership'.

Sometimes, of course, there might be bullshit. Some passengers, dissatisfied with the fee, might try to force their way aboard. Perhaps there might be a hazard to the crew. Not every such boat would make it safe alive, so much was clear.

And so, as Hughes' boat approached the Oceanian shore, he reached under his shirt and felt once again the reassuring weight of the pistol in the small of his back.

[Vadia]

From: Compositism Core
To: The Free Kingdom of Allanea
Subject: The Oppressors
Encryption: Richard Seth Vadia CN

King Alexander Blaken-Kazansky,

The oppressors of the Greater Oceanian Union have not only displeased our ancestors and God, but they have taken an action that is both foolish, bad for their own economy, and fundamentally without logic. Compositism Core has thought over the actions of these oppressors and decided that they couldn't possibly be any more in the wrong then they are, even computers would find fault with their actions.

Our contacts over in The Coalition of Human Rights and Ethics, along with "The Conglomerate" have provided us with rumors that you are interested in opposing GOU in their foolish endeavors.

We personally are preparing for a serious of heavily considered attacks, both economic and kinetic, to obtain some kind of resolution to this problem. We don't currently see a way to change the minds of the oppressors, nor to neutralize every single threat, so that leaves trying to get as many nekos out of the country as possible and causing some kind of "punishment" to the GOU.

Are you considering the same? Is there any way we can work together? Would releasing weed spores into their tobacco fields be a good starting point?

Together We Stand, Apart We Die; Compositism Core

[Allanea]

From: Compositism Core
To: The Free Kingdom of Allanea
Subject: The Oppressors
Encryption: Richard Seth Vadia CN

King Alexander Blaken-Kazansky,

The oppressors of the Greater Oceanian Union have not only displeased our ancestors and God, but they have taken an action that is both foolish, bad for their own economy, and fundamentally without logic. Compositism Core has thought over the actions of these oppressors and decided that they couldn't possibly be any more in the wrong then they are, even computers would find fault with their actions.

Our contacts over in The Coalition of Human Rights and Ethics, along with "The Conglomerate" have provided us with rumors that you are interested in opposing GOU in their foolish endeavors.

We personally are preparing for a serious of heavily considered attacks, both economic and kinetic, to obtain some kind of resolution to this problem. We don't currently see a way to change the minds of the oppressors, nor to neutralize every single threat, so that leaves trying to get as many nekos out of the country as possible and causing some kind of "punishment" to the GOU.

Are you considering the same? Is there any way we can work together? Would releasing weed spores into their tobacco fields be a good starting point?

Together We Stand, Apart We Die; Compositism Core

From:By the Grace of the Gods and the Will of the People, We, Alexander Blaken-Kazansky, Emperor of Greater Prussia and the Thousand States, King of Allanea, Reichskamphen, Leipzig-Island, Tsar of All Russia, Moscow, Vladimir, Novgorod; Kazan, Astrakhan, , Siberia, Chersonese Taurianl Lord of Pskov and Grand Prince of Smolensk,; Prince, Karelia, Tver, Yugorsky land, Perm, Vyatka, and others; Lord and Grand Prince of Nizhny Nogorod, Ryazan, Polotsk, Rostov, Yaroslavl, Belozersk, Udorsky land, Obdorsk, Kondia, , and all of the northern countries Master; ; hereditary Sovereign and ruler of the Circassian and Mountainous Princes and of others; Lord of Turkestan; Archduke of Free Dragkon, Duke of Leyfield, Blaken-Island, Schleswig-Holstein, Stormarn, Dithmarschen, and Oldenburg, Count of Centreville, Protector of Snogohsia, Liberator of Torontonias, President of the Capitalist Internationale, Friend of the Elves, and Headmaster of the Leyfield School for Girls.
To: Compositism Core
Subject:[/: The Oppressors
Encryption: Richard Seth Vadia CN

Dear Friends!

I am unfamiliar with your organization, and thus I am unable to be making a clear commitment to what the Free Kingdom can, or cannot, do jointly with your group. I am not exactly clear also why you have decided to focus on tobacco fields, however I have consulted with some experts over at the Ministry of War and I'm told that there are some technical issues with the approach you proposed. First, releasing the spores of an invasive plant in anyone's tobacco fields will of course take months to fully have its effect felt, if at all (consider that any invasive species you plant will take time to take root, sprout, and spread, and that farms already deploy various herbicides designed to protect against the intrusion of hostile species). Second, the principal actor herein is a private (arguably, semi-private) oil company, and so far I don't know of it owning any significant tobacco crops.

Now, I'm not one to give you orders, and obviously your organization is independent, but perhaps you should be looking at the Oceanian energy infrastructure for consideration, particularly the oil fields, distribution, processing, and transshipment centers, especially, obviously, those directly owned by Oceanian Oil.

Yours,
Alexander

[Cat-Herders United]

Open letter to all concerned parties:

We STRONGLY CONDEMN Oceanian Oil for its actions of mass murder and unprovoked aggression against the nekos, done on a purely racist basis. We call on any faction within the Oceanian Union with even an ounce of decency left to oppose the sinister agenda of Oceanian Oil. It is just the cold hard facts of the situation that if someone within the Oceanian Union does not resolve this situation, someone outside will, and they will have our full support, and it will not go well for Oceanian Oil and those who aid and abet genocide.

As per our usual policy regarding refugees, Cat-Herders United will accept all neko asylum seekers from the Oceanian Union.

Sincerely yours,

Founder Felicity G. Fach
President Pro Tempore
Cat-Herders United

[Greater Oceanian Union]

FUNOSHI PREFECTURE, GREATER OCEANIAN UNION

The Greater Oceanian Union wasn’t the easiest place to sneak into. The country was on the watch for departing vessels leaving the country, and it made sense to be when it was working on something like a purge by proxy. The shorelines were covered for the most party by radar stations located further inland, whose range overlapped to give full coverage. But the thing with those radars was that they were meant for detecting military targets, really. Something like a warship, or a jet. It was possible for smaller things to slip through the cracks. A small smuggling ship that was modified for stealth was one of those things, even if the approach would be… Tense and risky, to say the least, the method not foolproof but also good enough to work for at least a time.

There were also naval patrols to worry about. Even with stealth, it was easier to detect something that was close than something that was far away, after all. Those naval patrols by coastal gunboats and river boats happened even during peacetime, so when something like this was going on, they happened even more. But sometimes things also slipped through those, and that was what was happening right now as the smuggling ship finally reached the shoreline after a treacherous trip through hostile waters. Not even a country with as well funded and supplied of a military as the GOU was perfect.

Waiting on the shoreline was a rather small group, only about four people really. A couple of females, a couple of males. Half of the group were obviously armed, rifles on their backs that looked like they might be AKs or some other eastern rifle of days gone past. Wasn’t easy to get through all of the authorities and mercenaries that were assigned to keep this very thing from happening. If the GOU was going to do this, they were going to do it as well as they could and they weren’t going to make it easy for anyone to escape and fight back from abroad. The figures would be hard to make out in the dark but they could see the boat approaching perfectly. It was one of the benefits of their genetics.

“About time you show up,” said the neko woman at the front of the group, who had her face covered by a black scarf and had some kind of submachine gun on her hip while the rifle remained on her back. “Started to think that we weren’t going to make it. There’s been helicopter patrols near the shorelines and further out, they have gunboats near most of the shorelines. It’s a miracle that you haven’t been caught, really but… Your stupidity is our gain, I suppose. Even if I rate our chances of getting out of here alive lower with every passing hour.”

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Communication of the Greater Oceanian Union

大西洋連合のコミュニケ

Communiqué de la Grande Union Océanienne

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To the Atlantian government,

It is not appreciated that your nation has decided to step into matters that are being handled by the Oceanian people and the Oceanian people alone. Your foreign help in this domestic problem is not wanted or needed, nor is your attempt to enforce your foreign morals on our land and decide how we should run our country within our own borders. Furthermore, we consider this government meddling in our affairs to be a hostile act against our country and we will not be allowing anyone, government or civilian, in or out of the Atlantian Embassy in Kansaki. When your nation comes to its senses and turns over the asylum seekers you have taken in, we will remove our blockade of your embassy and will allow your diplomats to leave our nation unharmed.

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Signed, Minister of Foreign Affairs Si-Sung Chung

[Allanea]

The cabin, located after of the boat, opened, and Hughes made his appearance. He was dressed in a pair of grey, broad pants, which had clearly seen better days, and a brownish leather jacket, rubbed grey at the elbows, with several small tears along one side. The man could afford a better jacket of course – but of course the wear and tear on the piece was a mark of the many rides that Timothy had made across treacherous waters like these, dodging customs enforcers and drug cops, carrying bales of cocaine, crates of guns, or illegal books and sometimes more arcane things.

That he was armed seemed to hardly even bear mentioning. The word Allanean has become almost synonymous with armed man, and of course in his profession a gun was one of the tools of the trade. That the firearm was not visible would not reassure anyone in his right mind. His second – a plump, balding man by the name of Hank Bates – was meanwhile observing the scene from behind the armor-glass of the cabin, a rifle nestled in between his knees. Then again, the Allaneans were more or less assured that there'd be no violence – who'd drive the boat if they were dead?

"There's nothing stupid about us being here," said the Allanean – "you're paying good money for this, don't forget." – the action would be simple. Collect the money, steam up for international waters.

It was of course not viable for the tiny boat to make it hundreds of miles across the sea, but then nobody expected it to. All it had to do was make it out to international waters. There, of course, a 'mothership' was waiting.

Within it, the boat was a small, confined space, with a pair of long benches along its sides providing seating for perhaps half a dozen people on each side. For the for neko refugees, this would be actually fairly roomy and comfortable, if one ignored the boat bouncing and tilting on the water.

"So how do you rate it," – the Allanean said – "what exactly is going on in there?" – he waved his hand inland. "The news are a bit confusing."

Of course, there'd been reporting in the press. It had been contradictory, as these reports often are, and to be fair, Timothy wasn't an analyst, he was a smuggler. He knew people were being killed, and that they were being willing to pay substantial sums to get out of the country – but so much about the reports just plain didn't make sense.

[AHSCA]

FUNOSHI PREF 13:12


How do you get a nation that doesn't want to reason or just let an issue go? Well that's a question AHSCA was faced with. So many wanting to see action to protect nekomimi across the vast seas from an ethnic cleansing but a nation like AHSCA can't be the world's police it can't even go to war unless directly attacked. But a small insurgency to remove who they could, well a bit of a grey area. Much discussion between the Duchess and her Officers it seemed like the best but if it failed it could be trouble. But they had to do something.



Step One: Getting In


Getting in and out were going to be the two hardest parts. Not as though they could go in flying so it would be a matter of slowly getting a handful of soldiers in and out. Over the next few days various members of "Team N" a group of ordinary inconspicuous enough soldiers out of the self-defense forces made their way to Oceania through various means and using various aliases and homelands to pass off as citizens not involved or interested in this conflict and ideally not draw suspicion. Platoon leader who arrived first, Shion Wong. She'd been here a few days already to gather intel and figure ways to get people out and to the coasts. it wasn't going to be easy as she'd already gathered. Security Forces were everywhere trying to exterminate the neko menace and checking everyone carefully to make sure they weren't aiding and abetting the infidel. Posing as a journalist she was snapping pictures of the events.

First Lieutenant Melo de Tondro had arrived soon after, second in command. Should the worse come to worse they may need to split off and head to two different points. He was simply posing as a man visiting family in the country. At a open park they met up.

"You're late." Melo said.

"Parolu esperanto." she sharply responded.

"akiris ĝin. What's it looking like?" He asked after making transition to their native Esperanto.

"Outlook isn't good. Coasts are being watched, air is monitored, squads are roaming the streets. Even if we manage to get them out of the city getting them out of the country is going to be hard. Even then there's a good chance we can only get a handful."

"That's the mission isn't it?"

"Her Majesty's Orders are to extract however many we can in reason and not to be taken prisoner. I know we can't get them all but I can't let them all stay around and get slaughtered."

"We're not super soldiers or magic we have to do what we can. What's the priority, women, children, sick, elderly? "

She sighed frustrated knowing what she'd have to say. She hadn't been given specific quotas to fulfill but it had to be based on what she evaluated. What's it's looking like, mostly young and healthy. she sipped on a cup of coffee. Even then I'm afraid to take small children along. Dammit! she hissed. "Every hostage extraction I've ever done has always been 100%

"This isn't pirates we're talking about and this isn't hostage extraction. Way more complicated than that. "

"You're Intelligence aren't you? Maybe we can do this by forgery? "

"No good, if it were that simple we'd do it. Look I'll do what I can but you already told me they got his place locked up tight and they probably have means of screening for anthromimis. What's next?"

"Making contact with any kind of resistance."

"How do go about finding a group that doesn't want to be found and not blowing cover?"

"I've been having Saikawa and Sablage working on that. We'll rendezvous in the next hour. In the meantime find me again at 16:50 here." She palmed a piece of paper into his hands. "If you're late I will find you again."

"Yes ma'am."

She turned and kissed him. "Be careful." she moved along her way to continue her own surveillance trying to get a beat down on how often patrols moved about. If there's one thing usually consistent about any military anywhere is they have rigorous routines and schedules. Here's hoping this place wouldn't be different.

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“About time you show up,” said the neko woman at the front of the group, who had her face covered by a black scarf and had some kind of submachine gun on her hip while the rifle remained on her back. “Started to think that we weren’t going to make it. There’s been helicopter patrols near the shorelines and further out, they have gunboats near most of the shorelines. It’s a miracle that you haven’t been caught, really but… Your stupidity is our gain, I suppose. Even if I rate our chances of getting out of here alive lower with every passing hour.”

Somewhere on the Beaches

Posing as a couple of wayward sailors blown well off course by storms and swift currents, Second Lieutenant Arisa Saiakwa and Third Lieutenant Tora Sablage used a small wooded sailing ship to get into Oceanian. Of course their boat was probably being watched like a hawk seeing as they were really meant for a quick stop and to be sent back on their way but slipped and vanished into the country. Perched from a nearby vantage point with binoculars they kept a watchful eye for anyone a bit out of the ordinary. Their hope was to find resistance fighters hiding among the security forces. Unlike their two other comrades and a few others scattered around, these two managed to have weapons on them. Small sub-machine weaponry buried in a mountain of fish.

"I've seen psycho dictatorships with less security than this place." Arisa muttered "Dammit why don't we just snip some wires, line their tanks with sugar and get out of here?"

"We're not saboteurs we're rescue officers. See anything yet?" Tora simply asked

"This is a suicide mission even if we manage to find anyone we're not getting out of here alive."

"Then we'll just have to take a few of them with us, you did sign up after your mandatory duty."

"Yeah because i figured we'd never go to war and what's watching the coasts for steady pay."

"Then do what you wanted and watch the coasts."

Arisa began to let out a long sigh but inhaled sharply grabbing Tora's attention. "What?"

"I think I see something of interest. 4 o'clock." She nudged over. Grabbing a glance of someone making their way along the beachfront. "Someone's moving along down there. By the looks it doesn't seem like a usual patrol officer. It's dark, not likely a late night beach goer. Could be just the one's we're looking for. But we gotta be careful it still might not be anyone we think."

"Should we go in closer?"

"I think that's a good idea. All right careful and quiet now." With as much quiet and stealth as they could muster the two found their way down from their little perch. Slithering along the beachfront to keep distance and make sure they could better assess whom they were dealing with. "Wait, Tora. Neko have heightened hearing and sight don't they?"

"I think it depends on the neko, why?"

"Well just thinking if we get too close they may hear us and be spooked to want to kill us."

"Good point. How to approach them will be a challenge."

"We could signal them with lights?"

"No, still too risky. Mmmm damn I had a good idea...If could pose as a jogger or something but no way not in uniform. Don't think stripping naked is a good idea either. If only I had athletic clothing. All right, we need to get their attention in a way that would make them want to investigate. Firing our weapons is out of the question, making large noticeable signals is also a bad idea given this area is being patrolled. All right I'm gonna try this. Stay low stay quiet."

She tossed a few stones around, one to hit the water, one to fall into any nearby foliage. She wanted to get their attention with a whisper, not a scream. Cracking branches was also a plan. If these neko had enhanced sense from their genetic makeup then surely this would work and hopefully not enough to get them shot. It seemed logical they may investigate, it would be assumed "hunters"
as they were being dubbed would just kill them rather than make a racket.

[Vadia]

From: Composite Oil
To: Greater Oceanian Union
Encryption: None

Hello Consumers,

Do you like affordable oil free of lead, impurities, and filler? Do you like small and effective additives that improve the quality of the gasoline you pump into your daily driver? How about diesel, do you like diesel that is the same, but has 5% of it's volume in cellulose ethanol? How about prices that are twenty whole percent below Oceanian Oil's own prices?

We are buying out and renovating gas-stations around the country to supply our specific brand of oil, which was provided to us at low cost as a gift from our friends at COPS.

Stop by at one of the many locations offering our gasoline or diesel for large drinks of 64 ounces at just 1.40 NSD! Take home a cool refreshing soda, tea, low sugar punch, low sugar vitamin war, or sparkling water in a gallon or 2 liter bottle for just 1.40 NSD!

We offer prepackaged sandwiches, donuts, pastries, fruit, and other items as well; depending on location.

What we will be offering at all of our larger locations, after some construction is finished, will be ready-to-eat pizzas from our frozen pizza line. Pop on in and for just 4 NSD, you can go home with a pepperoni, cheese, or supreme pizza of your choice.

Feel bad for filling up on pizza? Get a whole pound of boiled or steamed carrots, green beans, or broccoli for just 1.4 NSD!

If you own a gas station or a series of gas stations, we will use our team of lawyers to help you get out of your contract and start making serious money selling oil, where we swallow 20% of the end cost, so you can get more profit while selling oil 10% cheaper!

Composite Oil, taking surplus assistance oil and using it to jump start economies.

---

From: Compositism Core
To: The Free Kingdom of Allanea
Subject: The Oppressors
Encryption: Richard Seth Vadia CN

King Alexander Blaken-Kazansky,

We have decided to use the power of socialism and military alliances, to abuse the oppressor capitalist system, by providing stiff and rising competition.

Should the oppressors have state backing, we have decided to try either spreading a horrible fungus or plant plague into fields of luxury crops grown in their nation. Do you consider Almonds an important source of food? We consider them wasteful and expensive. We are considering going after almonds, tobacco, cotton, sugar, and so on; but in that order. If need be, we can also exploit the algae fields that spring up from overuse of pesticides or simply just start napalm fires in their cash crops.

Should it become entirely necessary, we will then target their oil pumping and transporting resources; then go after military or corporate security targets, while avoiding civilians at all cost.

Do these various options sound more grounded to you and rational? Would you like to help them if they sound good?

Together We Stand, Apart We Die; Compositism Core

[Allanea]

From: By the Grace of the Gods and the Will of the People, We, Alexander Blaken-Kazansky, Emperor of Greater Prussia and the Thousand States, King of Allanea, Reichskamphen, Leipzig-Island, Tsar of All Russia, Moscow, Vladimir, Novgorod; Kazan, Astrakhan, , Siberia, Chersonese Taurianl Lord of Pskov and Grand Prince of Smolensk,; Prince, Karelia, Tver, Yugorsky land, Perm, Vyatka, and others; Lord and Grand Prince of Nizhny Nogorod, Ryazan, Polotsk, Rostov, Yaroslavl, Belozersk, Udorsky land, Obdorsk, Kondia, , and all of the northern countries Master; ; hereditary Sovereign and ruler of the Circassian and Mountainous Princes and of others; Lord of Turkestan; Archduke of Free Dragkon, Duke of Leyfield, Blaken-Island, Schleswig-Holstein, Stormarn, Dithmarschen, and Oldenburg, Count of Centreville, Protector of Snogohsia, Liberator of Torontonias, President of the Capitalist Internationale, Friend of the Elves, and Headmaster of the Leyfield School for Girls.
To: Compositism Core
Subject: The Oppressors
Encryption: Richard Seth Vadia CN

Dear Comrade!

(I assume, given your multiple references to 'capitalism', that this is your preferred form of address). I have some comments to make on the plans you have suggested.

It seems to me that it is the most ethically and strategically sound plan to first consider not the assets of farmers, who are no doubt, in your own words, 'civilians', and so far entirely uninvolved in this ill-conceived plan of a 'purge' which appears to be the workings of Oceanian Oil and its shareholders, with some assistance by the 'government' of Oceania (rest assured that the legislature here is already working on a bill to withdraw diplomatic recognition). As such it seems to me that the infrastructure and strategic assets owned by Oceanian Oil, and those of its investors and shareholders, ought to be prime targets.

The principal argument made for the genocidal actions of OO, if one can deem it an 'argument', is an 'economic' one, that's to say, the belief that neko citizens form an economic burden to Oceania, and primarily in the form of welfare and charity spending. (It's not clear why the Oceanians had not simply voted to adjust their welfare policy, but genocidal racists are clearly not the smartest people). It would be just, I think, to impose an economic burden on Oceanian Oil that would equal, or even far exceed, anything that feeding a bunch of neko would have.

It will probably not change their minds – again, these are clearly not the world's leading intellectuals – but I view this as a great opening move. The E2 – E4 of antigenocidal actions, if you will.

I'm attaching here a summary of Allanea's doctrine on the subject of dealing with genocide and democide, it may assist in our future discussions.

Yours,
Alexander.

[Greater Oceanian Union]

The group moved towards the boat. There was still room left by the time they were all in, but well, that was how it was going to go this time. They couldn’t get everyone out, they could hardly get themselves out and they had taken losses along the way. Even if the amount of soldiers carrying out the main operation was relatively small compared to the main military, they had support from the government and from local police. That… Made things dicier when it came to getting out of a bad spot. “I could argue that even paying you to come here was a Hail Mary, but I won’t. The fact that you took this risk is the only reason we’re getting out of here.”

The leader of the group continued. “My name is Naoko Tachibana. I formerly worked in the farmlands on this island, but now, that’s up in smoke. The operation by Oceanian Oil began in the cities which gave some time for me and the other workers to flee, but many weren’t so lucky. The government has a limited involvement and while they aren’t a combatant in this, they’re doing things like providing intel and census data to help the private military company get the job done. They’ve closed off certain roads too and the military is helping to prevent people from leaving. The naval patrols, I’ve heard, have been going on since this started. Patrols from the air, too, to make sure there’s no unauthorized vessels getting off of this island or any of the other islands for that matter.”

“It makes sense, to be fair. The oil company holds sway in the government and has been called another branch of the government by our news companies at times. The government’s always wanted to do this, really. Oceania is free in many ways and not so free when it comes to other things. In many ways, it’s a contradiction. You have many freedoms, but only if they’re granted to you. Perhaps you can make an illusion to city states of old and their multi classed societies. But whatever. My point is that Caradang is just a very ambitious citizen who is carrying out something that the government has wanted to do but doesn’t have the balls to do.”

She paused, considering the circumstances. “On one hand, I expect resistance in the countrysides to pop up before the purge can reach some of the more rural areas. At the same time, I don’t expect that resistance to last long, which is why we’re getting out now while it’s still possible. There’s not foreign support for us, after all, and we’ve got to deal with both the oil company and the government doing whatever they can to support them. I’ve seen the Air Force flying overhead more than once today, after all. And obviously, the navy wouldn’t make it easy to bring in supplies.”

[Allanea]

The boat's engines roared, like a sailor throwing obscene oaths to the wind as the boat's dart-like body rose somewhat from the water, and sped off, away from the hostile shore. Timothy laughed, "See that shit? That's one motherfucking boat right here!"

The boat's speed wouldn't provide a defense if a helicopter were to spot it, but that wasn't the point. As generations of smugglers knew, the faster you are, the faster you can get through any area in which you are liable to be in danger. As the Needle got faster and faster, it soon hit speeds that would be decent in a passenger car, and in a boat were downright impressive. The roar of the engines, the boat bobbing up and down on the waves, made conversation near-impossible – but it was worth it, or at least it was worth it in Timothy's view, because speed meant life. He pulled on the throttle until it pressed against hard plastic at the end of its travel, and the engines roared at increased pitch.

And so, soon enough, he was in sight of his target.

"Here she is," – he pointed through the armor-glass window ahead. "That's the Green Potoroo."

One could see why it was called that, at least. On the horizon, one could see what looked, at first glance, to be an ordinary cargo ship, its upper hull painted dark-green, a crane on its deck even now lifting a Needle much like their own to the deck. "So as you can see, we're going to be departing quite soon." – he turned his attention, then, to the story his passengers had told a while back.

"What about the other… cat-people abroad? There are all sorts of countries that have some manner of cat-folk living there, some with ears and tails, others almost like a tiger that can drive a truck, anyone think of asking them for money? I know there are some cat-folk in Allanea, and then of course there's any number of other places.."

[Greater Oceanian Union]

“We could contact those others and try to get help. Well, let me rephrase that. We will contact the others and we’ll try to get help. Right now we’re just focused on getting out of the country and surviving the day and the next couple of days, finding some new place to settle once we’re out of here, and then figuring out the contacts we need to talk to if we want to get some help,” shrugged Naoko. She offered a sigh, slumping down against the inside of the boat and resting a hand on her head.

“Downside of asking for foreign support is that it takes time to get here and the mercenaries and the government are moving quickly with this operation. Every day that it goes on, we’re going to lose a lot of people and a lot of land. I’m thinking by the time we actually get back to the Oceanian Union we’re going to be hard pressed to find any of us that are even still alive, let alone capable or fighting… We’re going to have to organize something at home fast and then somehow get foreign support for it which is easier said than done on a schedule such as ours.”

[Allanea]

“Well, look at it this way,” – Timothy said. “We are what we are – we are a delivery company. If you end up needing guns and items shipped, you’ve seen how good we are at what we do, didn’t you?”

As it happened, the rooms aboard the Green Potoroo were somewhat spartan ¬– they had been intended, after all, to carry extra crewmen. They did carry some items that smuggler crews considered essential – air conditioning (Allanea’s mainland is notoriously cold in winter and autumn and its summer is mild), and an Internet link.

The wheels of history (or, if one were so inclined, of Justice) turn slowly. The Green Potoroo would take a dozen days to reach the nearest Allanean colony. There, however, others who were not motivated by the same simple and noble desire for profit – partly because they had already satisfied that.

*

Headquarters of Finnerty Investment Holdings, LLC, Liberty-City

”Ladies and gentlemen,” – Slava Finnerty said, “the situation in Oceania is nothing short of complete bullshit.

The people assembled in the board room were not actually members of the Finnerty Investment Holdings board. Yet on the other hand, it was likely that, were they in Oceania right now, all would be put to the sword. They all had one thing in common – each had, in their bearing and appearance, some feline aspect. Some had the characteristic triangular ears of a nekomimi, others were covered in mild fur, and others, like Slava Finnerty himself, could best be described as humanoid cats.

“Human supremacists are butchering our kinfolk,” – Finnerty continued, “and nobody knows why. I’ve seen the excuses, they make fuck-all sense even as a motive for a ghastly crime. However, he’s what’s indisputable: catfolk are being killed. Some are fleeing, some are resisting. Our government has condemned these actions, but a concrete has yet to materialize. Therefore, I have a proposal.”

“You want us to outfit a mercenary corps?” – a realtor named Fred Cobelli started. He was covered, head to toe, in whitish-grey fur, and his large blue eyes seemed to lock with Finnerty’s own.

“I cannot deny having considered that, but at this point it’s not clear what is going to be happening… but what I do suggest is that we are all wealthy fat cats here…” – Finnerty purred – “We could of course pool some resources… to assist the innocent refugees of Oceania. Nothing violent… certainly not at this stage, that is.”

Murmurs of assent rolled through the board room.

“There are of course other catfolk… in New Dornalia, in Imeriata, for instance. I feel we should talk to our cousins.” – purred Finnerty.

He was regarding the coming events with anticipation – and to be fair, he was not entirely free of the profit motive.

[Allanea]

Somewhere on a farm, in Oceania

“I want you to think of a kitten. At a young age, it is a perfect machine of survival already - with its eyes equipped to see in the night, its hearing near-perfect, its claws already sharp, its paws soft. It is already a predator, a tiny tiger... now imagine this perfect predator, trapped in a bucket.” - the man began, pacing a yard, in front of a gang of six tired, haggard catfolk. Three of them were young - perhaps aged from sixteen to twenty - two were in their mid-thirties, and the sixth was an old man, worn and tired with the burden of decades - “Imagine two, or three kittens like this, in a steel bucket. They pace back and forth, their paws scraping and trying to find purchase against the rough steel, but each time they fall back down onto the bucket’s floor. Their vision, their hearing, none of these can find purchase now.”

“The bucket begins to move. They are frantic now, trying to jump and clear its sides. It the bottom is too narrow, too small for them to gain the inertia they need for that jump. Yet even now, even these small animals cannot help but understand that nothing good is about to happen to them. They squeak, meow piteously - a sound that will rend a man’s heart to hear. But the man now holding the bucket is one who has done this since childhood, he had killed all manner of animal through his life. He has suppressed in his soul the very ability to feel an empathy to the small, fuzzy things whose life he now holds, most literally, in his hands. He loops the bucket’s handle around the pipe of a garden faucet, freeing his wrist from the weight of the meowing, pitiful creatures. Finally... he turns the water on. It rushes forth, smashing against the bottom of the bucket with a sound that deafens the cats... there is squealing, and scraping of claws on steel, and then finally silence.”

Silence filled the cold air, where the six refugees were still listening to the man talk. Letting the images sink into their heads, he began once more

“This is what Oceanian Oil wants to have done to us, except on a larger scale. This island - each island on the island chain - is, in their mind’s eye, a bucket. Their mercenaries are the water. Their plan is to continue murdering us and our families, denying us any respite, until none are left.” - he pause. “Let me create no illusions - should we fight, should we become guerrillas... we will have little weapons, we will experience hunger, cold, disease, we will be fighting at immense disadvantages. If more than two of the seven people in this yard survive for the next ten years, that will be nothing short of a miracle. But if we do not fight... there is going to be squealing, and scraping, and then silence.”

There didn’t seem to be a need to argue further. The men made their way into the darkness, and the rain, in complete silence. Their weapons were limited - three pistols, an elegant bolt-action with a wooden frame and a Monte-Carlo stock, curving elegantly just where a man would place his hand, two black semi-automatic rifles that would look great on a movie set, and a pump shotgun with a stock of brown wood.

They were of course not the only groups of catfolk that made their way into the dark and rainy night, and they were not the only ones ready to fight - but the small groups of sullen, frightened refugees were not yet speaking to each other, and they were not yet bloodied enough to be truly called a resistance.

No doubt the enemy still thought of his enemies like kittens in a bucket.

* * *

In a warehouse in Liberty-City

Finnerty’s eyes lit up as he saw the supplies stretched out in front of him in the warehouse. For a moment, they seemed to glow with their own light. “Well, well, what have we here?” - he purred. “I see that five million dollars can go a really long way.

“Oh they can, they can, Mr. Finnerty,” - the butler said, leading his master along a long line of boxes. “Down here we have the drones - about fifty of the small Hummingbirds, we just ordered these online. These ten here are bigger ones, they’re for professional photography. They can carry twenty pounds of camera gear.”

“Twenty pounds of camera gear,” - purred Finnerty. “What’s in those boxes over there?”

“Fifty big game guns, and a whole bunch of assault rifles of a whole bunch of different brands - three dozen AKMs from Hiluxia, two dozen Kar-5Ks from Allanea, an AR here and an Aug there. And let’s not forget, we have twenty Imerian sniper rifles in some terrifying caliber.”

“And ammo?”

“Not very much for now - a thousand rounds for each gun, and of course magazines, slings, scopes, knives, and a large bag for each gun.”

The young banker waved his hand towards a deep corner of the warehouse. “What’s in there?”

“Industrial radio sets. Snagged a hundred of them for cheap. Digital, can be programmed for basic encrypted comms. Won’t do anyone good against a hardcore EW effort, but against the sort of things that those mercenaries might throw up, they’ll probably stand up. Probably.”

“Well enough. How are we on explosives?”

“Very little. You understand how smugglers are with carrying a hidden supply of explosives - there’s a premium. We’ve figured out capacity for maybe a hundred kilos - C4, detcord, fuzes. I am informed, Mr. Finnerty, that in the long run we will need a better solution than just putting these in the holds of smuggling boats.”

“Yes, I see, I see,” - Vladislav Finnerty steepled his fingers, covered in soft, brownish fur. “Did you get the cameras I asked for?”

“Yes, Mr. Finnerty - why do guerrillas need six crates of cameras?”

“Ah, Herbert my friend... that’s a surprise tool that will help us later.”

* * *

While Finnerty’s men put his cargo onto a ship not unlike the Green Potoroo, messages on the fresh letterhead of the Catfolk Benevolent Businessmen’s Society made it to the offices of the wealthiest catfolk in a range of countries. They were usually simple in their wording:

Dear friend!

I write to you not as a representative of Finnerty Investments, but as a representative of the Catfolk Benevolent Businessmen’s Society. The issue we face is a stark and terrible one: the catfolk of Oceania are being even now put to the sword by gangs of ruthless mercenaries, who are intending to wipe them out to last woman and child. To be clear, as the present situation stands, it is likely that most, if not all of them, will be slaughtered before the world community reacts in a significant manner.

So what we need is to create a breathing space. Money is needed, weapons are needed - as of now, merely millions of dollars, hundreds of rifles, dozens of tons of equipment. Money to help and organize those few, desperate freedom fighters that no doubt now exist, fighting alone, cold, unfed, in the jungles of Oceania, and transform them into a genuine movement. Money to aid refugees and expatriates. Money for medical care and food.

Sitting in your office - warm in winter, air-conditioned in summer - the question is not, whether you can afford a few dollars to aid the suffering - the question is, whether your conscience can afford not to aid them.

Finnerty was aware, of course, that few people - even in this dark hour for the Oceanian catfolk - were fighting against their own murderers. But if any where, he planned to find them and help them.

[Cat-Herders United]

December 3, 2018 - city of El Pueblo Unido, presidential palace

President Catniss Mesteñero was up late with her advisers discussing the Neko situation. Out of all the issues handed to her incoming administration by the transition team, this was by far the most controversial and politically explosive.

She had been elected on a platform of diplomacy and international cooperation, but this situation seemed to defy such peaceful solutions. Cat herders would disapprove of a headlong rush to war. But if no solution was found, this issue would surely come back to haunt in the next election, to the benefit of the socialists, who had campaigned on an aggressive anti-imperialist foreign policy, increased military spending, and rebuilding the arms manufacturing industry. If she wanted to remain in office, President Mesteñero had to find some means of hindering the cat-girl death squads. They had been in that secret meeting for hours already.

“The trouble is that these fanatics are so radical that they won’t even let the nekos leave” she growled in frustration.

The director of the bureau of foreign affairs Mačka Hajdú replied, “As much as I hate to say this, I simply don’t see any way out of a military confrontation. The only thing we can control is the timing and our preparations.”

“Then let’s prepare for the inevitable. We need to turn to the media to get them to report on the situation and let people build hostility towards these Oceanian oil men. Call me a press conference, I will call for an international boycott of their oil, that should get people’s attention.”

Then President Mesteñero turned to the director of the War Department.

“We need to prepare for a conflict on their turf. That means we need reconnaissance. Get me the navy, I want our submarine to start prowling around their islands. And assemble a team of rough-and-ready bad hombres who can blend into the local population, I want that team on the submarine. But they must be deployed covertly, we must maintain plausible deniability... for now.”

December 4, 2018 - city of Santa Gertrudis

The CHUS Black Cat stealthily sailed towards the Greater Oceanian Union, full steam ahead, carrying a cargo of deadly passengers, a hastily assembled squad of fifteen soldiers with checkered pasts of gold mining, gambling, hard drinking, brawling, and gun-fights before they had turned to the military to set them straight. Officially each one had died already, of alcohol poisoning, bullet wounds, or shanked in jail. Their new lives were under new identities.

[Vadia]

Composite Oil location across the Greater Oceanian Union

So far the venture was to a degree working, in that it was causing the competitor to slash prices below the 80% they had their own prices. Naturally, they came up with a completely insane way to fix the problem, crazy gimiks!

From: Composite Oil
To: Greater Oceanian Union
Encryption: None

Hello Consumers,

Are you liking how cheap petrol and diesel have been lately? You are welcome, we are happy to help! The lowering cost of transportation is likely going to be great for the local economy, just like our bailing out of failing gas stations and encouraging competition has been great for the economy as well.

To show our great love of pizza, we will be buying out a local but fairly large pizza chain and incorporating their wisdom into all the pizzas we make. Not only that, but we will be offering free e-books when you buy our pizza at either type of location.

Our smaller locations will also work to make room for a frozen pizza line, which we have bought out and are working on improving. We hope to keep the versions sold at the smaller locations and the grocery stores to be around 3.33 for the next year.

We're also putting ourselves on the MPoV stock market, and are setting up minor brokers at each major city's HQ. In our bid to increase competition and pass over control of the company to locals, 50% of the stock will go up for sale. Anyone can come in and buy stock, but if you own stock of a competitor, you have to sell it to us. We know this can be intimidating, so we will offer you the same value of our stock for their stock, and on top of that, 20% of the value of the stock in Index funds at the MPoV stock market. These stocks are invested in a wide range of fairly new, but rapidly growing companies in a region of serious and rapid industrialization.

Finally, we will be offering all of our employee's full-time work if possible, or part-time work as needed by the employees. Each of our city located HQs will also offer health insurance, from Controlled Relief Medical Supply, which covers a lot of things and cheaper than most forms of health coverage.

Composite Oil, increasing competition and using it to jump start economies.

While the messages, website updates, social media statements, and minor television ads were playing, a series of people sitting in dark rooms eating pizza and boiled carrots plotted. They already were looking up the local laws on firearms and training their staff in the use of batons. Each location had a number of cameras broadcasting to a secure room, and at the push of the button will dump the last hour into the cloud and start recording fresh footage for the cloud. If possible a security person at every single location would have a padded gloves, a baton, a taser, a handgun, and/or an SMG/carbine. Whatever the law would allow, an imported specialist who was well trained and background researched, would secure the location. If need be, each city HQ would have a crack team of local PMCs and veteran ex-cops or soldiers, who would be driving around in a bank van type vehicle. They would take the money from each location and move it, but if need be, they would be prepared to be a rapid response force.

The leadership at each location would be highly trained in watching their own back and would carry whatever is allowed, while having more imported security. Most of the local top leadership would leave many of the buildings, by going to a basement and coming up in a building next door. This would divide each HQ into one to four other companies they would appear to actually work at. The Pizza company they bought, among other brands, would serve as a solid cover for this kind of operation.

[Greater Oceanian Union]

OceanNews: News From Oceania

FurFront rebels leave 45 dead after refinery bombing

Rebel forces within the Greater Oceanian Union have recently attempted to send a message to the Oceanian Oil company as well as the government of the Union by committing the largest terror incident within the country in years. The attack targeted the Oceanian Oil Company synthetic oil refinery in the heart of the Funoshi Prefecture, to the northwest of the capital island. It has been described as a firebombing attack which was designed from the start to begin a large fire, something that reports from the scene claim to have worked. The Oceanian Oil Company itself claims that the attack happened at night and that fires burned through the morning, causing further damage.

Blame is being assigned to loose security, as the perpetrators of the attack were able to pose as employees of the facility and enter without proper authorization before making their way to the inner areas of the refinery and placing charges which would be detonated as the perpetrators made their way out of the refinery while dressed as workers for the oil company. According to the authorities and their preliminary report on the situation, which has been relayed to OceanNews, there are at least 45 dead from the initial attack and the resulting fires and 291 with either minor or major injures, with most of the injured people being expected to recover.

The perpetrators of the attack? They’re calling themselves the Furfront, and have unveiled a jihadist-like flag featuring a black background with a white circle and a paw in the middle. This flag was displayed prominently in a video released by the group, which would display members armed with military style weaponry and wearing military uniforms. The exact capabilities of the group are unknown as the numbers in the video are likely not their full membership, but one thing is clear and that’s that the new organization seems ready for war with the Oceanian government and the Oceanian Oil Company that has taken up the job of cleansing their kind from Oceanian society.