Political Dissident & LGBT Activist Assassinated(Semi-Open)

[Qassadia]

OOC
Written with the help of the illustrious Polish Prussia Commonwealth

Aragon
Commonwealth of Palmyrion

The time, according to Shamil Nurgaliyev’s watch, was 0732 hours.

The watch was well-built, reliable, and accurate. It was a model that was issued solely to agents of the General Reconnaissance Bureau if the bat logo with its unfurled wings over a globe was any indication.
As Shamil counted down the minutes, the meaning behind the GRB’s insignia was not lost on him. The General Reconnaissance Bureau had its fingers everywhere, from Lyras to Holy Marsh to Somalia after all. The long wing of the Bat stretched out far away from its homeland indeed.

Today, however, they were carrying out a more physical mission rather than a subversive one. They had to carry out a ‘termination’, as the GRB’s put it, on a certain individual that had run afoul with the Crown, and she was not only a traitor but also a disgusting dyke.

How typical. Disgraceful, yet unsurprising, since those nations like Cassadia who assented to the Natural Order had no lack of enemies. Though, unlike other previous nations, the Cassadian Crown-Government held no qualms about divorcing its mortal enemies of their lives, in the most painful and gruesome of methods. However, this course of action was seldom pursued against those who had settled in countries far away from the
Krillin region, as the Crown’s prime intelligence agency rarely ventured outside of Cassadia’s home region.

But perhaps, this was one of those rare occasions.

Major Shamil Nurgaliyev was not the only one participating in this operation. Originally they had entered Palmyrion claiming the sales representatives of a wine-making company that had its registration and address in the Kingdom of Yulmata. Four other clandestine agents were with him, tasked with locating and identifying a certain Person of interest, and then establish an embed monitor said the figure, embedding wiretap in the personal electronics of this now-disgraced judge after which they were to exfiltrate with whatever information the implanted sources would have been feeding to the agency. However, right after they had completed the mission, their orders were suddenly changed to a ‘’C-812’’; the operational code for an assassination.

It was a frustrating predicament, but they had to suck it up. A GRB field officer never complained; they soldiered on, even though they had to overstay their visas by a week.
The operation had a rather quiet start. They had at their disposal a safe-house, a speedboat, and two cars, that were acquired as leftovers from a previous intelligence operation that had been tasked with monitoring the newly established Rainbow Network. Overall, they had an excellent pool of resources on their hands, which would be instrumental to their success.

Shamil lowered his binoculars as he shifted his head towards his colleague, a young man named Anatolyi, who was nearing 30, having graduated from the Academy just shy of a year ago. This was his first time in the field.

Anatolyi’s stare was still fixed on the target’s house, located in a rather pleasant suburban neighborhood. Shamil appreciated this; after all, his colleague needed to prove himself now, if he was to ever rise through the ranks.

‘’Target is leaving the house. There appear to be three additional non-designated bystanders with her as well.’’ Anatolyi stated.
Shamil glanced back at the house, which sat about two dozen meters from where they had set up shop. He raised his binoculars once again towards the entrance of the door.

Their target, Adlopovna, a disgraced and criminal former judge, had just exited the building, lingering outside at the doorstep, leaning in on the doors to keep it open as her ‘’wife’’, a younger woman by the name of Gloria Ventura, a marketing executive native to Palmyrion came out of the house along with their….two kids.

Anatolyi felt a burst of disgust through his being for the target they were about to kill, though personally, he did not see the point of this. Sure she was a traitor and had defected, but unlike others, this Adlopovna was not some Abolitionist Army terrorist or a heavyweight dissident who commanded influence all the way back in their disgraced country.

Sure, this former woman was of the Law and used to sign on death sentences or convictions of similar weight by the stack-loads on a regular basis. But now all she would really do would be to write a column or two about the blight that was Cassadia’s policies, which she decried as ‘’intrinsically anti-human’’ or some other drivel about the plight of the anathema that was her kind.

Like all honest Cassadians, Anatolyi was a man who always strived for the moral righteousness demanded by the Christian Faith, and he held these unrepentant creatures in the deepest of contempt.
Yet he felt bad for one thing, in that these creatures had adopted these two innocent children and deprived them of the natural structure of a nuclear family. Two boys, even, one of which looked no older than his son, Simeon, who had just started 1st grade.

He felt as if a pile of bricks had filled up his stomach the moment he saw the four people head toward the automobile, a Ford Focus station wagon. Shamil and he had snuck up in the wee hours after midnight to rig an explosive device under the car, which had been fixed underneath the hood so that it would be detonated in synchronization to the ignition of the engine. Of course, since they had so little time to prepare for this, they had to be present for this, as they never knew if the explosive would even detonate upon start-up off the ignition, or if it would detonate in the first place. That’s why there were two back-up plans when the team gathered round to deliberate on the action plan originally.

‘’Target’s entering the vehicle, the other three non-designated bystanders as well. Shit, I feel so sorry for the kids.’’

‘’I know, I see them - hope this works or this is going to become ugly,’’ Anatolyi replied drily to Shamil’s heads-up. He followed with his own binoculars of what would be the last moments of a woman who thought that she could stand up to one of the world’s last and greatest monarchies. Those whose monarchs commanded absolute power over their governments and subjects alike.

‘’Kamak 2, phase two is a go, I repeat, phase two is a go - be ready to move out on my signal, over?’’

‘’Copy that, sir.’’ A short reply came over Shamil’s earpiece. It was his two other colleagues in the Citroen SpaceTourier van. They were to be part of the last resort in their backup scheme if it ever came down to it.
They were all hopeful that it would work; everything was supposed to work the first time around.

Both Shamil and Anatolyi threw their binoculars on the back seat as each prepared for what would happen next, while Nurgaliyev prepared to start the car,his gaze transfixed on the Ford Focus as everyone entered the car. Anatolyi reached for the glove box and pulled out a brick-shaped, green metallic box that resembled a walkie-talkie. However, it lacked buttons or the screen that displayed frequencies and had two antennas on the top, with a plastic tiny wheel. On the long, thin, the side was what a layman might call a switch.

Both powerfully built men were glued to observing the target and her ‘’family’’, their eyes glistening with sparks as they observed how they closed the door and watched the car start...

Only for nothing to happen.

Shamil’s irises shrank to pinpricks as he witnessed how the car, which was supposed to be a flaming wreck, instead moved out of its parking space. He gritted his teeth, while Anatolyi felt a cold drop of sweat make its way down his brow. The GRB team leader hit the ignition, and the car gave off a rumble, after which Shamil hit it into gear as he pulled up the car into the road forwards, giving over the wireless a ‘’Velinus’’ word, a code word that the first phase had failed and that they had to link up with them as they were about to execute the next step of their plan.

Shamil did not let his eye off the Ford Focus in front of him, gripping the wheel as he drove the car into tailing the one in front of them - the one belonging to their target. Just behind the Citroen Van followed their lead. As this happened, Anatolyi armed and adjusted the detonator’s radio frequency for the explosive.

‘’All Green.’’ He said calmly. Even in the face of potential danger, Anatolyi managed to keep his cool - a desirable trait for any successful GRB agent.

The ‘batmen’ would not fail; they rarely did. Shamil and Anatolyi had G3KA4s in the door accessory pocket. The last-resort was something they prayed they would not have to resort to. If the bombs failed, they would need to overtake the vehicle and stop it, then go out of the car and have to kill them off by themselves. This was known euphemistically in the GRB as the “mechanical method’’.

Their SUV closed in on their target. Uncomfortably so, perhaps, but it was necessary in order for the explosive to be detonated.

‘’DO IT NOW, OR IT’S NEVER.’’ Anatolyi heard his superior bark. He felt as if the whole world around him froze, almost like those sequences in the action movies. As if by instinct, he inclined down under the dashboard as Shamil did the same while he hit the brakes since the vehicle had come to a halt in front of a red light before an intersection, rubber rubbing off the asphalt as it kicked smoke and tacks.

Then he pressed the button.

A fireball consumed the car in front of their Hyundai, with the explosion sending bits of pieces of metal flying in random directions as the blast wave blew back the SUV’s windshield, with the glass shards flying back
through the saloon as it ripped the leather off the upper parts of their seats.

‘’HAHAHA, great jobmoy dragoi, otlichnaya rabota.’’ Shamil let out a maniacal burst of laughter as he peeked at the results of their work - fiery, blazing wreckage that was once a car.

He switched the car into gear again as the car backfired forwards, the rear wheels spinning and kicking up smoke as the car skirted around the wreckage undisturbed, the Citroen trailing them close behind as the two cars set course for their exfiltration point.

A yacht berth.

Ten Minutes Later

Karinksky looked back again at his watch as he looked on at the guardrail. It was close to a driveway that led into a berth, within which dozens upon dozens of private yachts were moored. Theirs, while not a yacht, was definitely a fast boat, or a speedboat- a Wellcraft Scarab 38KV. Sure, it was an expensive thing, but it was fast enough to escape anything that Palmyrions could throw at them.

Suddenly the rumble of engines could be heard, as the two vehicles he was waiting for frantically pulled up in front of the dock, all four of their occupants disembarked them in a hurry as they jog-walked to the dock, each with a rucksack on their back, and their personal weapons on had.

‘’Oi, did you get the fucking lesbo?’’ he called out.

‘’Sure we did, and now she’s on a long journey to Hell.’’ Shamil boasted proudly with a hearty laugh as the men jumped into the boat. Karinsky took no time in starting up the boat, as he piloted the fast beast out of the berth and into the open sea, where they had to cross a bay before they were out in international waters.

“Has our track-clearing mechanism been set up, Nurga?’’ A team member of the GRB squad asked. It was an important question; after all their apartment contained a great deal of information regarding who they really are.

Nurgaliyev glanced at his watch. “The safe-house is to be a blazing inferno by 8:30, likewise with the cars.’’ He declared. Compared to carrying out the operation, covering their tracks was much simpler.
As the boat exited the berth and set for the open seas, Karinsky decided to gradually increase the boat’s velocity, as it picked up speed through the calm waters of Boracay bay.

The speedboat’s rocky skid across the water reached a crescendo as it reached its limit, as the speedometer showed that it could not go over the limit as the hull smashed through the wavy water of the bay, passing in between several shipping freighters while they were at it. The GRB team had picked an opportune time; usually, drug smugglers transported their cargo in the wee hours of the morning or the dead of night. Now, however, the Palmyrion coast guard patrols had moved either further out or along the coast.

After four hours had passed, with the boat had entered the open sea, Karinky looked down on the vessel’s instruments as he slowly dialed down the boat’s engine as it glided through the water, and eventually slowed to a halt.

‘’You sure these are the coordinate our folks gave us?’’ Karinsky turned to ask Shamil.

‘’Positive.’’ Their team leader replied, confidently.

As the men anxiously stood there, looking for any sign of their deliverance, Shamil’s statement would be proven correct. After a few minutes, a sudden sound, made from the depths of the sea, came to life. Then a large, pitch-black behemoth appeared out of the water like a great serpent.

This was their ticket to safety. A Cassadian submarine of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy, dispatched across the oceans and seas, arriving in this little spot to pick up the Crown’s elusive, nameless defenders.

Karinsky fired up the engine as he steered the speedboat towards the far larger vessel, bringing it to a halt as it gently bumped into the submarine. Each of the agents disembarked the speedboat, and onto the hull deck of the submarine, climbing up the ladder of the conning tower, where the hatch to the dark vessel's interior lay. Waiting for them there was the submarine’s Commanding Officer, and his deputy, both gruff-looking men with chiseled features, molded from years of endless patrols in the sunless depths.

The ‘’batmen’’ got on the ladder, climbing it up on the conning tower to line up before their superiors, saluting the Admiral.

‘’I suppose your mission has been a success, gentlemen.’’ He said, returning their salute

‘’Indeed, it has sir.’’ Major Shamil announced it to the Submarine commander with pride in his chest.

‘’Excellent, we’ll transmit this to Carthage and have you rested for some R&R’’ The Admiral declared, to the silent, glad reaction of the GRB field agents.Their gratitude having been written all over their faces as each entered into the submarine, the hatch hermetically closing from the inside as the long, black submarine descended back into the blue abyss of the ocean below.

Setting a course for home, towards the Holy Kingdom.

[Qassadia]

8 Days Earlier
GRB Headquarters
Carthage

A Pervasive Force.

That was how one dissident described Cassadia's premiere intelligence organization, but it was much more than that. The General Reconnaissance Bureau was created from the start as the mother of all security services, one that could take on the roles of internal security, intelligence, and counter-intelligence, equally able to monitor and counter foreign agents as it could haul off the Crown's internal enemies, from the most militant rebel to the pettiest political dissident, out of their beds in the middle of the night, whisking them away to one of their many black-sites, never to be heard of or seen from again. It was almost as if the very ground had swallowed them up.

Or, in this case, to kill them off, in an innumerable amount of ways. The GRB certainly had the legal authority to do so, thanks to its co-founder, whose signature made the GRB's existence possible.
That man was Emperor Charles Von Peacekraft. He was long gone, but that bear of a man’s legacy lived on within Cassadia in countless ways, of which the GRB was but one. Ever since its creation, its place in Cassadia’s society and the government was kept shrouded in a veil of mystery wrapped inside of an enigma. It was an organization that the average blue-collar Cassadian on the street respected and even feared; the latter more than the former. After all, one could never know who was an informant for the batmen and who wasn't. The people who most had to know were those who in any sort of way opposed the Crown, its place in society, and the entire social and moral order that held the entire thing together; communists, those who craved democracy, pluralism, feminism, socialism, abolitionism, or freedom for sexual minorities.

The people who feared the GRB the most of all were those who dabbled in these illegal ideologies and values were from privileged and well-off backgrounds, who often had an easier time accessing forbidden publications, material, or other forbidden material. There was always that possibility, hanging over them like the Sword of Damocles, that the one who shared your viewpoints was an undercover agent or an informant, especially over the intranet. Many who did not know how to watch themselves and what they said, and even some who did, found this out the hard way, spirited away by balaclava-wearing GRB agents in plain clothes, in the middle of the night as they were manhandled into black vans that sped off towards destinations unknown - a testament to the omnipotence of the ''batmen'' and the hypercompetent of the GRB.

The round emblem of the black bat and the ''Tverskaya'' skyscraper, the insignia and headquarters of GRAB, respectively, was, depending on your view, either a symbol of power and authority or of terror. Some might say that the GRB was the sword and shield that protected Cassadia and Christian civilization from a plethora of subversive and malignant terrorists. For others, however, it was a symbol of the backwardness and brutality of the Crown and it's bloody-minded determination to preserve its power and position over the nation and society at all costs; yesterday, today, tomorrow, and for all time to come.

The skyscraper, named after the street boulevard it was located in, rose over an area of low-rise luxurious condos and apartments that were built throughout the 1980s along with the 56-story skyscraper. It had been built during a time when the oil windfall from the nation of Albarazil, now The Overseas Dependency of New Carthage, could be sold to other nations in large quantities at a premium, along with consumer goods and other refined commodities and manufactured goods, and back when it's abhorrent ''LPU system'' was an afterthought, and the ''Free World'' was more interested in making money out of the country, as much as the Cassadians made money off them. But, of course, that had passed, and the present situation of embargoes had been in place for over three decades.

The ''Tverskaya'' was a caltrop-shaped building, consisting of three ''wings'' that formed 120-degree angles between them. The building was constructed primarily of reinforced concrete slabs and ceilings, and the main walls were perpendicular. Even the garages underneath were built of concrete, with retaining walls.

The design of the tower was based on the most stringent and modern safety features with regards to earthquakes and storms; nothing short of several dedicated bunker-busters aimed at the foundations would topple the building. To save manpower, by the commission of the first GRB Director, an automated digital control system was implemented, consisting of an internal central computer network that controlled everything from the building’s CCTV cameras and traffic-entry controls to its fire-suppression system

It was, in essence, a fortress.

Only three entrances lead in and out of the building proper; one was a central entrance that was accessed by foot, featuring three large, bar-shaped revolving doors, which could only be activated by a special ID that GRB personnel carried, as well as fingerprint identification. The other two were one lane driveways, with one-off on the north side of the Tverskaya and the other on the west. Access on each was controlled by a steel gate equipped with headlight-lever sensors that could read if the license plate of the vehicle was on the building's access list.

These would swing into action as two black Volkswagen Phaeton sedans moved into the driveway as they exited the parking lot of the building. The gate's sensors immediately read the plates as one from the list, triggering the double gate's automatic hydraulics system to open the door, allowing for the two cars to pass through and swing into the overpass driveway that let the vehicles join in the traffic of Carthage.

Ah, Carthage! The capital city of The Holy Kingdom Of Cassadia, and a vast coastal city which stretched for a hundred fifty kilometers, east and west along the Country’s North-Eastern Coast, bearing south-west on the delta of the river Sava and bordering the Tengri Gulf, and curiously shaped like a deformed semi-circle.

Carthage was truly a city to behold in every possible right. Its size stretched as far as one’s eye could see, even beyond the horizon. When one looked at the ‘’Kingdom’s Crown Jewel’’, from the view of a bird’s eye, one witnessed a city where the monuments of old and the edifices of the new. One witnessed its vast expanse of buildings old and new, in varying styles. Instead of clashing, though, the variety complemented each other.

The architectural styles of the ‘’Old’’ quarter of Carthage were home to many historically priceless buildings which often were a couple hundred or more years old, all of which were constructed in various styles, ranging from Vernacular(Germanic) to Renaissance, Romanesque, and Gothic-Revivalist architectural styles, while the more ‘’recent’’ buildings were built in Old and Revivalist Baroque along the aesthetic lines of Victorian and Pombaline architecture schools whose architectural wonders came to dominate, most of the capital’s architectural aesthetic look from the 16th up until the early 20th century, and continued to be dominant into the modern-day.

These vast historical architectural treasures of the Cassadian capital of Carthage were mainly concentrated in and around the Kitay-Gorod and the ''kremlin'' fortress. So much so, that said buildings composed most of the ‘’Historical’’ quarter of the city, with the architectural styles of the city getting older as one got deeper into the city.

The city itself was split in half by the icy Sava River and organized into several concentric ‘’Rings’’. At the very center, laying the Kremlin Fortress, Glory Square, and the ancient District of Kitay-Gorod, which in Old Cassadian, Kitai-Gorod was the word for ‘’Basket-town’’, since the walls which surrounded the city were originally made of baskets filled with clay). The surrounding beltways are composed of the Boulevard Ring (the innermost), the Garden Ring, the Outer Ring, and the New Ring (the outermost). The areas in and between the New Ring, as well as other parts of the city were situated in the latter's immediate north to the Outer Ring was mostly comprised of working-class neighborhoods whose main economic activity stems from the Service Sector, Manufacturing, and Heavy Industry, while most of the districts between the Garden Ring and partly in the Outer Ring are residential.

The city of Carthage was also known for its tight cobblestone alleyways and wide street boulevards were sights on which a never-ending stream of automobiles was a constant spectacle of automobiles both big and small that almost always stretched the infrastructure to its acceptable capacities. That fact having to reveal itself every time during ‘’peak hours’’. Though, no matter how serious action had been undertaken - of almost three and a half-decade. This effort of the Carthage Municipality and Crown-Government to alleviate the pressure off the infrastructure of the city through various projects and schemes such as the widening of streets, expansion of the metro, construction of ‘’stacked’’ interchanges, including over-&-underpasses for pedestrian and vehicular traffic, as well as investment into modernizing and expanding public transportation, the traffic grew more and more.

Another additional set of changes, into which great strides were made, was the expansion of existing sections of older city districts by having significantly ‘’build up space’’ with high-rise apartment complexes or with offices, or with other types of commercial-oriented buildings. Another kind of construction activity having been given the go-ahead was the commissioning of newer shopping malls/centers and company headquarters of both local branches of international companies, and, more commonly, Cassadian corporations and conglomerates. All of this was constructed on plots of land that were previously used mainly as parks or as ‘’ open green space’’ lawns, mostly along the Boulevard and Garden Ring.

This joint project, of the Crown-Government and the Municipality of Carthage, while mostly successful in resolving the long-enduring problem of overcrowding and partially with traffic congestion, also spawned its own set of problems like periodic nerve-blowing traffic jams and a stubborn case of air pollution.

Furthermore, due to the massive overhaul and expansion of the city's road infrastructure and transportation networks over the last two-and-half decades, several city districts that were previously separate towns and cities were annexed into the city proper subsequently during Carthage's process of massive expansion starting in the mid-60s to early 90s. Despite flat-lining afterward, Carthage would still periodically expand its urban blob, of industrial and manufacturing parks, monolithic rows of high-rise residential apartments, office or commercial buildings, shopping malls/centers, or for other miscellaneous purposes - even if this process from now was done ever-so-slowly.

Carthage’s transformation to be among the world’s largest megalopolises was a monumental challenge for even the best of engineers and architects. For some time, half the land outside the outskirts directly surrounding the Capital of the kingdom was one great construction site stretching for dozens of miles towards the horizon in every direction and filling the scenery of rows with the unfinished skeletons of high-rises; With cranes rising like behemoths over the endless sight of foundation digs, half-finished buildings or just-completed skeletal frames, temporary housing, dump trucks, concrete mixers, bulldozers, excavators and other utility or construction vehicles and other assorted equipment.

It had been a decade and a half since the start of this project. Work on this ‘’almost unrealistic’’ ambitious project would continue day-in-day-out, around the clock by construction crews of private companies along with units from combat engineering and logistical elements of the Land Force units from the Carthage Garrison as well as from nearby bases and locales further out. To make sure that work on the massive project that was the expansion of Carthage would continue 24/7, construction crews and military engineering units would be grouped and organized into ‘’shock construction groups’’, where each ‘’shock group’’ would work on the same project, day-and-night until its full completion. To achieve that, in each group, the division of labor was divided into three ‘’sub-groups’’, each sub-group would work eight hours, upon which the sub-group would be rotated for resting and recreation, with the second group and then the third taking up the place of their colleagues from the previous shift – this process would then be repeated, ensuring that the pace of work on these construction projects would be maintained until its completion. This breakneck speed and well-guided effort could have only been mustered on such short notice and maintained for so long in nations with authoritarian political systems unburdened by the constant bickering of a legislature.

As for the cars of the GRB, their chief slowdown for them was just like for most other Cassadians...traffic. The sheer size of the city would still take a good hour for the duo of GRB VWs to traverse the route that would lead them to their final destination - the Palace of Carthage.

The mere sight of the palace would take anyone aback in awe. Its facade towered majestically over everything like a lone monolith, firmly over the surrounding parks and trees. It was the single largest residency in all of Carthage, and indeed, in all of Krillin. Everything revolved around it; the rows of linden trees, adjacent on each side of the wide main streets and boulevards. The parks, in which lindens and oaks were carefully planted symmetrically, satisfying from every angle and a joy to the eye.

Another important part of the surrounding area were the artificial streams connected through stone canals, with neatly arranged cobblestone footpaths laid between the trees of the countryside-style, meadow-like parks along with the custom-made steel benches, Greek-Esque gazebos that dotted the scenery with their rising white marble columns and domes.

Such green sights were rapidly becoming an increasingly rare sight in Carthage these days as such places were being overwhelmingly bulldozed to make way for the ever-expanding urban jungle of apartment, shopping centers, or office buildings, along with many other commercial and recreational facilities as the urban blob of concrete, glass, and steel replaced the forests of Mother Nature with the concrete boxes of Man.
At an intersection to the right of the palace’s front facade was one of the few entrances that lead openly to the palace grounds, guarded by a tall double-door estate gate. It had been crafted by the nation’s finest metallurgists, with a richly ornamented pattern on each door, to form spectacular oval-and-square-shaped flower patterns around the Great Seal of The Fire Phoenix, serving as both the coat of arms of the country and the Royal Standard of the Royal Cassadian Family.

The estate gate was not the only measure that blocked open access to the Palace of Carthage, however. Further security measures included a checkpoint (white, half the size of a shipping container checkpoint cabin, and with a boom barrier) and a large security contingent of openly armed uniformed Knight-Agents from the Cassadian Royal Guard. These were tough-looking fellows, with strongly built physiques under their black fatigues. Some of them had rolled-up sleeves, and one could see big-boned arms with veins bulging from them like steel cables, as most of the Royal Guards were made to train with hitting train tracks since the days of their early youth. Though most such features of the security detail were covered by their black-colored BDUs, furthermore being equipped with other personal gear such as bean-shaped ‘’FAST’’ helmets, and they almost always sported either a set of NVGs or tactical headsets that were wired to their radios. The quality of their firearms and armor matched their expensive communications gear and peak physical condition; the Knight-Agents usually were issued with, like highly customized configurations of the AR-15 platform assault rifles, sporting a diverse assortment of optics (EOTECHs, AGOGs) and other attachments ( foregrips, suppressors, laser sights), plate carriers and ballistic vests with additional protective gear like elbow-and-knee pads. Furthermore, most carried other weapons as well, such as collapsible batons, stun, and tear gas grenades. These were stored in the pouches of their tactical utility belts.

The security detail manning guard duty at the entrance point to the Royal Palace Of Carthage, maintained full security posture on their assigned post - day and night, on a rotational basis, in order to have a ‘’full’’ permanent presence of fixed, high-number of ‘’Knight-Agent’’ guards manning the gate. Such security procedures were executed similarly in every type of role, situation, and mission, when it came to protecting the Cassadian Royal Family, no matter the circumstances.

At the first sight of the approaching speeding pair of automobiles, the gate’s hydraulic mechanisms sprang into action, triggered wirelessly by an over-watch officer from the Security Control & Coordination Center back in the palace, splitting the gate inwards wide open, allowing the expensive vehicles that seemed to look, a moment ago, like dots in the distance from the other end of the boulevard, to dash through the entrance, only interrupted by a slight perfectly curved bump in the road that was from the retracted into the pavement hydraulic bollard (designed to stop speeding vehicles from ramming through the gate).
This mattered little, as the pair of vehicles whizzed through the gate entrance, driving along the narrow road, their speed beginning to steadily decrease until they pulled over in front of the main entrance to the building that was the Carthaginian Royal Palace.

Two porters from the Palace's servant staff were patiently awaiting a little behind a slight curb that set the boundary between the road and space set out for pedestrians. With their hands behind his waist, the porters stood as the two cars pulled over to a stop, each stepping over to the side of the back door and opening the door of the sedans as two people got out of the cars. The porters paid appropriate respect to them, each giving them the standard Cassadian bow; head bent low with a hand on the chest where the heart was at.

The two, emerging silhouettes would become figures, their striking raven black uniforms, especially the dress pants with each legging tucked into calf-high jackboots made their appearance inescapable, the peaked cap hats with the seal of the GRB embroidered at the front, announcing it clear of who they were even without considering the "fruit salad'' of service ribbons attached on their chests.
''Director Hafez, Colonel Ivanovich, Her Majesty is awaiting your presence.'' The older of the two porters announced to the duo what were GRB officers.
''We know, and we're thankful.'' One of the GRB officers said, her voice giving her away as a woman.

One of the porters would halt for the briefest of moments in shock. A woman, in the GRB? This was unusual- Cassadia was a patriarchal nation.

The figure in question took the jacket she had taken from the car, handing it over to the butler-uniformed servant, as her colleague did the same. The gatekeeper to whom he had addressed was no other, but the Director of the General Reconnaissance Bureau. She was a usually tall woman, with a well-proportioned, strong, and athletic body, but which managed to still preserve strikingly beautiful features, having been blessed with a curvy hourglass figure and a high, well-rounded bosom. This was a stark contrast to the figure of her colleague, the boarish, thick-necked Ivanovich who was built more like a tough-as-nails bear.

The two officers marched through the entrance and into the building's seemingly all-marble interior and up an immaculate staircase that led up into the right upon the second floor, their route continuing up the stairs of yet another staircase that got them on the third floor. Thankfully, especially for Ivanovich, they would not be climbing any more stairs, as their steady walk would finally lead them along the hallways of the palace, with their luxuriously carved into decorative marble columns built into the walls, on which framed pictures, portraits of past and present, decorated Armed Forces officers, Crown-Government officials, and Royal Cabinet members eternally watched the opulent, pompous corridors of power.

The scenic walk of the two GRB officers finally ended at the office of the person whom they answered to; Empress Relena Von Peacekraft. Her office was situated at the end of another long hallway that seemed to extend out seemingly for over a kilometer, before them, especially to those susceptible to optical illusions.

Some time passed while they walked over to the door leading to the office of the Empress. The two closed in as one of the bodyguards on one side next to the door, served as a gatekeeper to open the door to them.
The two GRB officers entered the office as they stopped and stood to attention. Before them across the room was seated was a lovely woman- the Empress Relena Von Peacecraft, the head-of-state of the Holy Kingdom of Cassadia and its undisputed absolute monarch as dictated by ancient as well as modern statutes of the Royal Law.

The Empress was in her mid-twenties now, in the prime of her life. Although her face still bore many girlish features, they served to complement her mature beauty. Her honey-blonde hair fell to the middle of her back, and ran in a tight braid halfway around it, with a shoulderless white dress that ran down below her knee.

The Empress took off her attention from a plethora of papers of reports that were laid out before her on the desk. Her deep, breathtaking ocean blue eyes took in the sight of the two people. She had been expecting them. Indeed, she had, as she made a pointy wave motion at two armchairs in front of her desk.

‘’Miss Hafez, Mister Ivanovich, please take a seat,’’ Relena instructed in a cold, soft-spoken voice. She looked over to one of her maids who lingered still as a statue before she rested back on the two persons of interest before her, as they got themselves seated.

‘’May, I get you something Director Hafez, Colonel Ivanovich – tea or coffee, perhaps?

‘’No thank you, Your Majesty.’’ Those who were donned in officer dress of the GRB said one after the other, those being the man and the women before their Monarch.

‘’Straight to the matter of business it is I take it. Well then, Director Hafez, may you explain to me what demanded you to seek an audience with me?’’ The young woman requested of her Intelligence Agency’s chief head, as she crossed her legs under the table, rocking the one over the other.

Director Hafez calmly stood up from her seat, as she approached the desk of her Empress, laying on it the folder with the bat logo over a globe on the cover. Laying the file out before Relena who dragged it with a hand across the desk to her, taking a look at the cover and listing through the few opening pages.

Adlopovna Gazgireyeva.

The file in question was compiled on a person. Disgraced by the looks of it, since the aforementioned file on whoever it was, was thick enough to comprise a small book of around forty pages.

‘’Your Majesty, do you perhaps remember this particular incident in 2013? The defection of Judge Adloprovna, who leaked classified information that greatly disrupted the work of our State Security Court. Furthermore the subsequent details in procedures on our security judicial authority, on which she was a member of on the panel. Responsible for prosecuting those that were found guilty in partaking in illegal political activities, terrorists, or activists propagating for asocial criminal elements.’’ The Director of the GRB elaborated on the particular person that files addressed.

The Empress pouted as she put down the file, stroking her chin as she tried to reminisce about those past days when she recalled the first months of her reign. Overwhelmed and exhausted in what were meetings-after-meetings that went on and on forever, the deliberations overflowed with a stupendous amount of information discussed around topics contained in documents, and on issues and other matters that demanded her approval or disapproval. The sheer stress of it all almost made her mad, had it not been for several people in her sad, wicked life who took it upon themselves to raise her and supported her reign in the most difficult moments in which one could ever be forced into.

‘’Perhaps, my memory of this particular event is hazy. Though I do have a loose memory of how shameful this was. Though I do confess that I did not focus on this too much, I was overwhelmed with more pressing matters at hand.’’ The dignified Empress said as she pushed the folder away from her gaze as she eyed the Director.

A discreet grin appeared on the Director's lips, viewing it as an opportune moment.’’ Her defection inflicted a great wound, however symbolic it was to us. The unmasking of our State Security Court, the constitution of its legal procedures, its structure, and its functions were in the most classified category possible, only accessible to persons with Class D clearance.’’ Hafez explained, rather made the person in front of her recall. The ‘’Special Security Court’’ was a special judicial authority, established to prosecute the legion of enemies that the Crown had, both to its very existence as well as to its political, social, and economic order. Structured in a way that it could dispense the ‘’appropriate’’ severe legal sanctions on the Crown’s enemies in the most expeditious way possible.

A death sentence mill, as it was described by the reviled person that was currently being discussed.

‘’Treason – there are plenty of such unfortunate malcontents to go around, but what exactly made you think that you had to have you come into my office to tell me this?’’ Relena inquired with a huff, her head held high and not amused.

‘’Because we have the opportunity to bring about the appropriate kind of justice, to people who have betrayed their motherland.’’ Simply stated Hafez, this time in a more intense tone, full of hateful seethe.

‘’Not to mention to have her answer before the Lord for her abominable moral failings.’’ Colonel Ivanovich added before he stood up from his chair and went like Hafez, over to the front, on the edge of Relena’s desk, with a yellow folder under his shoulder, opening it the contents of it showed two documents on each side.

One signed and stamped by the same court that this woman had sat on its panel; A death sentence that found Adlopovna Gazgireyeva guilty of leaking classified information, secretly subscribing to FSE ideologies and of having committed sapphism, with several other persons, whose names were expunged with a marker from the document.

Again, it was a single sheet of paper, this time with the ‘’bat’’ Seal of the General Reconnaissance Bureau, though unlike the other, it had to do with a ‘’physical termination’’ of the same person whose name was in the other document. It was a request for a confirmation order on which only the signature of a certain single person was required, as legally only one personality in the entirety of the Kingdom had the legal power to sign on the approval of targeted killing on such unsavory figures overseas in foreign lands.

The Empress.

Relena inclined as her gaze came down on the second document, reading through the short legal text that referenced the specific sections of the 1999 Anti-Terrorist Act, that allowed for the execution of this highly illegal operation if it was read through the lenses of international law. The operation was a risky gamble as it will have to be done by ‘’illegal’’ agents in a country, called the Commonwealth of Palmyrion, that Cassadia was more or less in a state of war, according to the provisions of the Amistad Declaration.

‘’Unit 0056443, has been shadowing the Designated Individual for over a month now, the original mission was to implant wiretaps that would connect us with the Rainbow Network’s computers. Our agents have succeeded in their assignments, but we have one last Mission Transmission number to wire to them to confirm their mission’s end. However, we can assign to them another task - to perform a physical termination on this abominable dyke. The man leading the operation is a professional, they’ll be able to settle-on and plan out on a reliable method to carry out the physical part of the operation.’’ Ivanovich detailed the intricacies of the proposed course of action. He had to back up the GRB’s approval request document and his colleague.

‘’What about any potential intelligence that Adloprovna could have on groups or individuals that are still active on Cassadian soil, and if so. Why not just kidnap her?’’ The Empress asked plainly.

‘’A successful hack was performed on Adloprovna’s laptop that allowed for us to access the internal communications and data of Palmyrion’s Rainbow Network. This has come a long way in helping us to unravel or confirm the identity of several individuals found in offense of the usual crimes; advocacy for criminal asocial elements as well as being party to these groups themselves.’’ The single boarish-looking man in the room further explained.

Relena looked on, staring at Ivanovich before glancing back down upon the document. Sighing, she took a pen from ivory, a jar-shaped vessel that had many expensive pens and quivers. Leaving across the underline, awaiting her signature that approved of this proposed course of action.

The Empress then closed both folders with each of her hands, inclining to push them to slide across the table at the front edge of the desk.

‘’Now get out of my office. Both of you.’’ Relena commanded the two officers, her voice high yet dignified.

Director Hafez and Colonel Ivanovich bowed lightly in submissiveness, each taking their folders before scurrying out of the room.

[Palmyrion]

OOC: Before we begin this lovely RP, let me introduce our sponsor: RAID: SHADOW LEGENDS - no, we don't do degenerate ads here, only necessary OOC content and raw, bloody IC content.

1. "The General Reconnaissance Bureau had it’s fingers everywhere, from Lyras to Holy Marsh to Somalia. It was so powerful so as to be able to elect a pro-slavery Marshite Archbishop that was now-ousted for heresy (by heresy, that meant support of slavery); once, it managed to nearly influence the Lamonians into legalizing slavery." - this is more of a "musings by a paranoid Secretary of National Defence" thing than an actual event, because as of 2020 Lamonians haven't even left (or been booted out of) the Amistad (let alone having relegalised slavery), and the current Marshite Archbishop is as fervently abolitionist as everyone before her.

Now for the IC stuff.

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Cassadian Political Dissident Assassinated By Car Bombing
Kenneth Lyle Sabaot | 2 Jan 2021 8:59AM PST

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• Adlopovna Gazgireyeva, Cassadian political dissident, assassinated by car bomb
• Wife, 2 kids, 8 bystanders killed in blast; several more injured
• Suspicion cast on Cassadian involvement

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ARAGON, D.C. | At 7:45AM this morning, a car bomb detonated in Sherman Residences, Aragon, D.C., killing Adlopovna Gazgireyeva, a Cassadian political dissident, and her family - wife, Gloria Ventura, 38, and two kids, Thomas (7) and Nicholas (9), along with 8 bystanders and several others wounded.

Police are investigating the site of the explosion as onlookers gaze on the burning wreckage and EMTs attend to the injured.

Witnesses to the incident recount two vehicles - a Hyundai Le Fonte and a Citroen SpaceTourer - following Gazgireyeva's car - a Ford Focus - as Gazgireyeva and her family cruised down Velasco Street in downtown Palmyrion, before Gazgireyeva's Ford Focus was detonated and set ablaze, killing her, her wife, and adopted children. Moments later, Gazgireyeva's car detonated, killing the occupants inside, as well as killing 8 bystanders and injuring several more.

The Commonwealth Security Council has condemned the assassination, calling it a "grave act of terrorism" against the Royal Commonwealth. "We condemn this grave act of terrorism inflicted upon the Royal Commonwealth and those who dwell in it and live by it." the Supreme Councillor of the Commonwealth Security Council declared. "We shall bring to light whoever did this and bring justice to to the victims. May the victims rest in peace." he added.

The CSC additionally released an image of the alleged perpetrators of the attack, who were Cassadian nationals that arrived in Palmyrion one month earlier, and had to overextend their visa by one week - even as COVID-19 related lockdowns barred most non-vital international travel to and from the Royal Commonwealth.

CCTV footage of the alleged perpetrators of the attack as they arrived at the Royal Commonwealth International Airport, eight days before the attack.

The Palmyrian Intelligence Community suspects Cassadian state involvement in the assassination, primarily through its intelligence service the General Reconnaissance Bureau, but they claim to "lack certainty in their suspicion", internal sources say.

[Qassadia]

The Holy Kingdom of Cassadia
Royal Palace of Carthage

''Yayy, I won!'' Nunnally squeaked excitedly in triumph as she put the rest of her cars down before Relena. They had both coveted the elaborate king-sized bed in the middle of the room. They were yoga-sitting as Relena had her own deck laid down, as she looked lovingly at her baby sister the way only a sibling could. She raised her chin in an exaggerating pose, her arms flying to her hips in defiance as if declaring she was not defeated.

''Oh no, you have not!'' She projected unto her sister as she sneakily reached for the pillow behind her, smacking Nunnally whole which took at this surprise attack. But it was only the beginning as Princess Nunnally reached for her own counter-offensive on this rabble, both giggling playfully in an animated fashion as the younger princess took the upper hand in this pillow war. Smacking over her big sister Relena at twice the rate as she lost the ability to strike back.

All the while, the matronly and beautiful Duchess Dorothy Catalonia had languidly stretched her tall, curvaceous body on a Baroque-style couch, as her hair was done by one of the maids, one of the few allowed into the inner sanctum of the Empress and ready to serve the Royals and the Empress's lady-in-waiting. In the meantime, Dorothy spectated the fight as she looked on at the Empress longingly.

''Doryyyyyy, Nunna is bullying me! I co-OOF,'' The Empress speech was disrupted by a powerful smack to the face by the soft weapon of Nunnally - a pillow. T'was the final blow as the young Princess stepped forward over Relena in victory.

''Prostrate thyself before me in defeat, ye bespattered enemy.'' Nunnally declared in sweet poetic voice her triumph, victorious. To this Relena pretended great injury as she proclaimed one last cry at her hopeful ally.

''Seek victory over my foe, Dorothy - Avenge me!'' The Empress said overdramatically, which caused the Duchess a rich burst of cheer and laughter.

''No can do.'' The Duchess said in short order. Which greatly infuriated her mistress as she gave off a grumpy growl.

''Traitor-AWw!'' Her Empress exclaimed in disappointment and animated desperation, before being hit over the head with a pillow by the wretched brat that was Princess Nunnally Von Peacekraft.

This would playful antic would be short-lived, however, as the door that led into the room creaked open, to reveal a maid with raven hair, that was cropped into a tight bun like the rest of the female staff. Dressed like all the other maids, Kamelia was a woman who exceptionally stood out from the staff, in that thought of highly by the Royal Family in that Prince Rolo looked on to her as a mother figure after their mother, Empress Marrianne passed tragically in childbirth that took both hers and that of the child she carried in the womb. Likewise, his siblings grew on to think of her as more of just another of the legion of servants and other staff that maintained the titanic palace.

''I only said that I don't want to be disturbed lest an emergency. What is the matter?'' Relena switched on to her Empress persona as she got off the bed, standing upright with her smooth nubile arms crossed. A frown drew across her face.

''Master Lukov would like to see you, Your Majesty. He's waiting for you outside your abode.'' The maid replied humbly.

''Oh...in that case let him in.'' The queenly girl-woman said. At this, the maid withdrew with a curtsied bow, the muffled sound by the door as Kamelia signaled to whoever it was outside of it to enter.

A moment more would reveal for a male figure that entered into the sanctum of the Empress. He was by stature rather humbled though relatively handsome with well-defined jawlines but rather average jaw compensated for by the well-trimmed thick beard that this man, called Punchev sported. Standing only at 5'7 though slightly raised by the low heel of the stylish Chelsea boots he wore, the offensive-for-an-aristocrat attire was a civilian one, which indicated the closeness and trustworthiness that he was allotted by a legendarily decorum-obsessed and suspicious institution if the beige cargo pants and the flannel shirt under a leather-brown thermal jacket.

He was Baron Punchev Lukov. At 38, he was now a patriarch of an aristocratic line that carved its monarchist credentials in stone in the 1960s during the progressive Great Student Strikes that shocked the system as it was led by the children from prestigious aristocratic families, paralyzing government efforts to crush this rebellion. But it was men like General Hristo Lukov, his grandfather who took up the banner of monarchism and the fight against all heretical and degenerate forces and their ideologies that it spawned. Successfully combating it with thanks to the quick establishment of former military servicemen, conservative bourgeoise, property owners, and working class. Though collapsing upon itself and dissolving because of lack of a clear unified platform, ideology, structure, and central leadership; their only unifying point being the preservation of the Monarchy and its central place in government and society.

Nevertheless, for his grandfather, it was a boon to Punchev's grandfather, as he would take up the lessons and experiences from this to heart and later go on to found the Union of Cassadian National Legions out of his division over which he was put in command in 1971. Though what initially was interpreted as a self-centered political stunt would turn out for the opposite, as Hristo Lukov crossed the Rubicon on several matters that would firmly reach for heights of independent power that was unheard of before or since. Over the decades it would grow from what was just a statement into an established organization, with its own political structures over which grew administrative ones to manage it, including its paramilitary wing better known as the ''Defense Companies'', the UCNL's armed wing that was mobilized every time the state needed to do dirty work abroad in proxy conflicts or some property owner was incompetent enough to mismanage his property, exploiting this to rebel.

The man in the room was the grandson of the man who had raised the UCNL from scratch.

He was Baron Punchev Lukov.

''Bate Puni!'' Nunnally affectionately cried out in joy as she jolted up off the bed and towards the Baron. Punchev put on a gentle smile, clasping his hands back around his waist as the young Princess latched on to him around his neck he raised her as he spun in a circle.

''Heyy, how is my little Princess Peach faring?'' Lukov exclaimed jollily as he finally relented to put down, the energetic lady that was Nunnally.

''Really well, Bate Puni, o' it has been so nice to be back with my sister, Dorothy and you. Sure I love my friends in the Academy, but I have been missing everyone so much, I thought my heart would die of grief!'' The petite princess went about her words like a bullet train, which humored the Baron who chuckled at this ruffling her hair wildly, causing Nunnally to giggle.

''You ruined my hair!'' Moaned the teenage Royal in frustration.

''Yeas, my dear Princess Peach, I am the Big Bad.'' Lukov innocently joked, letting out an underwhelming laugh like a Saturday cartoon villain.

Relena at this almost watered to the point of nearly shedding a tear. Reminiscing of the days when she was innocent and Lukov would babysit her, remembering the childhood antics and petty fits and all the games that children enjoyed. The Empress knew he was here to discuss something important, he would not have had such a non-existent notice.

Baron Lukov took a few steppes forward and gave a light bow, even though in such a circumstance it was not required, even this confused Nunnally who looked on at this with bewilderment.

''Relena, can you please come with me. There is something you and I need to discuss - about a matter of state. It is going to be short I promise.'' The Baron assured her, addressing her more as a childhood friend than an Empress.

''Sure, but let us take it outside. We don't want to bore Nunna to sleep now, don't we?'' The young woman agreed, her statement finishing humorously.

Princess Nunnally at this just crossed her arms and looked away from them.'' Ugh - statecraft; booooooriiing.'' She declared, rolling her eyes as she made a pouty expression.

Relena sighed as she went with the baron through the door, dressed only in her long silken nightgown having not even bothered to slippers on. They stopped to the side after they exited the bed-chamber, with Lukov walking in front of her, looking her straight in the face with his mellow, deep, and expressionless hazel blue eyes.

''I wanted to tell you that the operation on having that dyke judge killed has been a success. The GRB team has successfully withdrawn out of the country and are on their way back home.'' The Baron brought the news in a humble, but positive voice. Though the learning of this news did not exactly make the young woman happy, instead she curled her delicate lips and looked at the ground solemnly.

''Hey,'' the Baron put his hand on her shoulder sympathetically.'', you did the right thing Relena, I know that ending someone's life is a sin, but in order for one to save others from falling into it themselves. One has to take extraordinary actions. I know I had to do that when I was your age.'' Punchev said, in a voice and tone different to what the dear and adoring Nunnally would hear, it was a monotone and an unemotional one, only distinguished by the softspoken of how the Baron delivered his words.

Relena broke into a silent sob, at the thought, knowing she had a part in someone's killing. As bad as the one when the Congress of Regions was summoned in the first months of her reign, a legion of nobles, civil servants, bureaucrats, and powerful men - all unaware they were about to be purged publicly in front of the entire nation.''

She brought himself upon his shoulder as her sobbing turned into tears, and the tears into a subdued wailful cry.

''It's okay, shhh-shhh. Please just cry your heart out, there is no need to bottle it up. Just let it all out.'' The Baron soothed her, gently stroking her hair while he looked blankly at the long corridor before them.

They would be like that for a few moments, before they would go back into the room, back to the joy that was Relena's light among this world of cold darkness.

---

Bate - big brother/ big brother figure

[New Visayan Islands]

Dorian M. Corona
Senate Building, Cebu City, DH
January 4th, AD 2021
1512 PHT

"While I personally have no real love for the LGBT+ community--for the record, I simply do not care about someone's sexual orientation or gender identity, only that they do their part in building the Confederation--I believe I speak for everyone in this room when I say it's time to take the high road on this." Dorian Corona stated his opinion on the assassination of Adlopovna Gazgireyeva. The bombing shook the Confederation's LGBT+ community as soon as the news came in; Corona wondered how a former competitor to the position he had just been reelected to took this...
"Are you suggesting, Senator Corona, that on top of expressing our official condolences we come down hard on those responsible?" asked Hyacinth Reyes. There was no mincing words with the (outgoing) Senate President; having announced that she would step down effective January 15th, she didn't hold back. The rumors that Corona, a fellow New Nationalist, was most likely to succeed her also helped.
"What I'm saying, Madame President, is that we stand by Palmyrion now just as we stood by her and our allies in the Galadon Campaign. From what we know, it is more than likely that her killers came from her country of origin," Dorian replied.

Aiden G. Tan
Visayan Confederation Assembly Hall, Cebu City, DH
January 4th, AD 2021
1552 PHT

"The assassination of a prominent LGBT+ advocate in Palmyrion at what seems to be the hands of the reactionaries she escaped from is proof positive that there can be no parley with any nation as blatantly hidebound as Cassadia! Those of you who have heard of Cassadia's egregious human rights violations ought to know this; we all know that the reactionary nightmare styling itself as a holy kingdom is anything but. Assemblywoman Marquez, would you consider a slaver nation to be blessed by whatever god they claim to worship?"
"No, Assemblyman Tan; if we are talking about the same nation I think we're talking about, there is no way Cassadia can truly be blessed by God, especially when you consider the trigger behind the Federal Assembly declaring the Cassadian government hostis humani generis." The trigger that Fatima Irene Marquez, an Assemblywoman from Bohol, referred to had been the open admission of perhaps one of Cassadia's highest-profile personalities to being a willing participant in genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity, and slavery. Indeed, such was the egregious nature of the admissions that the personality in question was ultimately shut out of the social media platform he used to post them. "We are talking about people who are, for all intents and purposes, kindred souls to the heirs of Adolf Hitler, killers of the innocent, murderers beyond all doubt."
That saw Aiden Tan continue his speech: "As a member of the LGBT+ community myself, I simply cannot fathom why people would rather we be killed off. Those nations that abide by a warped perversion of the beliefs held by any of Abraham's children are perhaps the most obvious offenders, but the annals of history are replete with examples of secular heteronormativity, whether it be communist states viewing people like me as decadent bourgeois or fascist states that see us as though we are the embodiment of degeneracy." It surprised no one that the openly LGBT+ members of the House of Assemblymen took great issue with the assassination; the very gay and very much engaged Aiden had spoken with his fiance the night before, both men expressing concerns about the possibility that it could happen to them.

Dorian Corona
Senate Building
1620 PHT

"Dorian, I'm not gonna blame you for coming down that hard," Shane Henry Albedo said. The Liberal Senator from Siquijor had cornered Dorian during recess, wanting to commend him for admitting that it was time to take the high road.
"Can you blame me?" he retorted, "We have all the reason to believe that Cassadia did this; as a matter of fact, it's so obvious that..." Dorian paused for a moment. "Shane, hypothetical: could this have been a false flag done by a third party? I know you're in the Intelligence Committee, so tell me what you think."
"Dorian, the big question you have to ask is cui bono? Who stands to gain from a hypothetical false flag?"
"Can't see anyone else that would gain, come to think of it."
"Then the simplest explanation is that Cassadia had a hand in the assassination. How much of a hand, we don't know just yet, and at this point it's a race between us learning from the Intelligence Community or Cassadia openly admitting to the killing, and I'm sure we all know that open admission is entirely possible; you did bring us up to speed on that matter, after all." The reference to a pogrom Cassadian authorities enacted--a pogrom that saw the Confederation placing several sanctions on the Cassadian government on top of the usual procedure for slaver states--was a reminder that there were many ways information could flow.

[Faraby]

Prince's Palace
Faraby

Then and now, sailors approaching the spot of human settlement on the southwest corner of the island of Faraby would often remark on the congestion of the place. One 19th-century account made note of the "impossibly crowded" spot that was otherwise known as Faraby City, remarking on how closely knit the buildings were. Those who set foot in the city would express their amazement, or alarm, at the throngs of people that constantly crowded the narrow streets, seemingly going in all directions, their presence blocking the horizon. The spirit of human activity had so infected this little spot on God's green island. Carts and horses struggled to clear the way as bodies and voices clashed with one another. And through it all the buildings towered over them. Most of them were two stories high, some three, a few four, and it seemed that there was always construction work going on to add another floor. It was as if the city had insistently refused to grow outwards, instead preferring to expand vertically. This was for good reason, though: land was quite scarce on the island, and the increasing population, if allowed to expand outwards, would engulf the entire island and leave no space for nature and farmland. They had no choice.

The arrival of the next two centuries brought no change to this condition. If anything, most buildings were now at least three stories high, many even four, and the city was littered with skyscrapers and mini-skyscrapers. They were even building underground now; indeed, a sizable portion of Faraby City's population now lived in underground apartments, emerging in daylight only when they needed to go to work, buy groceries, or seek out some entertainment. The horses were now replaced by cars, and although pedestrians now made their way through the streets in a more orderly manner, their numbers had scarcely decreased.

And, one might ask, how did the ruling class of Faraby deal with this chaos? They removed themselves from it. Not too far, but still. Just to the north of the city lay a low, and rather wide, hill. The first Prince of Faraby ordered the hill be raised slightly. A wall was built around the heightened hill, and around that wall a ditch was dug and filled with water, a design undoubtedly inspired by medieval Europe (or aspects of medieval Europe that the Prince had read about in his books). Within the wall a complex of houses and halls was built, a residence befitting the Prince and his family. This complex would eventually become known as Prince's Palace. When construction work commenced on this site, the town that would become Faraby City was still somewhat far away, hugging the coast, but with the passing of centuries the city gradually inched closer towards the palace, and now many people regard the palace as part of the city, if only barely. The Prince and his family still live in the palace. The Grand Vizier has an office here, too, although by convention Grand Viziers throughout history have chosen to stay at the House of the People in the city, no doubt wanting to appear close to the people.

It was a peaceful day, and the sun had sunk beneath the orange sky. Now, deep inside the palace complex, in the Prince's office sat the man himself. Prince Samir, though he did not say it to anyone else, was rather befuddled by his officials' interest in the situation now developing in Cassadia. Though he had heard of the country, it was of no major interest to him. Cassadia was neither friend nor foe; it was just another one of the limitless multitude of nations in the multiverse. He had been briefed of the situation, he followed the news, and he understood the general outline, if not necessarily the details, of the situation. A Cassadian political dissident had been murdered in the country of Palmyrion, with whom Faraby had just established diplomatic relations. An LGBT activist too, he was told. Her name was Adlopovna Gazgireyeva, and she was blown up in her car along her wife and children. Several bystanders were injured.

In his office, with him now sat Mansur al-Sulaymi, Minister of Foreign Affairs, and Hüseyin Mehmet, Minister of Security. Both of them were "new men", relatively young personages (the oldest were in their fifties) elevated to high office by the Prince in the aftermath of the coup which overthrew his uncle Prince Mustafa and ended the infamous Dark Time, where the law was regularly bypassed or even ignored and oppression abounded. Samir and his "new men" were determined not to repeat the tragedies of the Dark Time. Prisoners were released and pardons distributed like goods at the market, all in the name of healing.

"I have sent off my Grand Vizier to a wedding in another country and I'm about to fly to yet another country in two days to attend a gala," muttered the Prince, a breath escaping his dried lips. "I do hope this Cassadia matter is resolved quickly. Now, Mansur, you said there is a possibility dissidents will flee to our country?"

"Yes, sir," answered the Minister of Foreign Affairs, a somewhat portly man with a shaved beard and unkempt hair, but always immaculately dressed in a suit. "Ever since we... assumed the reins of government, we have touted ourselves as a land of freedom. We've released prisoners, given away pardons, forgiven our enemies and such and such. I worry that we will become one of the dissidents' destinations."

The Prince couldn't help but let out a little laugh. "If they've even heard of our country!" A smile formed on his face, though it was only momentary, and it soon faded away to a grim expression. Samir reached for the cup of coffee on his desk and brought it to his lips, serenely taking in the liquid. "You worry," he continued, putting the cup back on the desk, "that our people will not be very receptive to them."

"While we don't openly oppress LGBT people and their kind," the Minister of Security took over, "we don't really hold them in high esteem either, sir. Farabians as a rule are still rather socially and religiously conservative, and the influx of gay dissidents to our country, I fear, will... put the spotlight on their sexual orientation, which will increase tensions in our country. The LGBT community in our country, however small they are, will take this as a sign that it's time for them to come out into the sunshine and... flaunt their perversions. We have just emerged from the so-called Dark Time. We cannot risk causing another unrest."

"And at the same time we cannot just turn away dissidents, people who are seeking to preserve their lives and freedom," said Mansur. "I hate to say it, but our best bet at this moment is to stay low and hope nobody really notices us. Hope the dissidents don't choose to go to our country."

The Prince sighed, his head dropping slightly. "Unfortunately I have to agree with that," he said. "Trust me, my heart goes out to the poor gays and lesbians and bisexuals and transgenders of Cassadia, but we have to treat this situation with caution for now. Mansur, I want your ministry to issue a statement of concern regarding the murder of this Adiplov- Adopov- I mean Adlopovna Gazgireyeva. Remember, a statement of concern, not of outright condemnation. Don't accuse the Cassadian authorities of being behind the murder. And I want you to report to me in 24 hours on how many Farabians are in that country. I don't imagine there's too many of us there, but I just want to make sure, in case violence erupts and all that."

"Now, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me," the Prince rose to his feet, his eyes fixed on the grandfather clock at the corner of the office, "I believe it is time for the Isha prayer. I'm going to the palace mosque. I want to discuss some things with the imam, deepen my faith. Wanna go with me?"

[Qassadia]

Carthage
5th of January, 11:21 AM
Royal Palace

News of the assassination of Adloprovna, a former judge on the Special Security Court, came and went for young Relena, but the consequences of her decision were just in their infant beginnings. She knew her guilt and sin were the sole reason she now was responsible for the death of an entire family, however much she reviled the thought of it being built on the foundation of a sapphic relationship.

Relena promised to herself she'll go to confession afterward, her first one in two months. Truly this was a mortal sin that endangered her salvation, for even Emperors and Empresses wanted to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only the clergy held those keys.

No doubt she would go after the current meeting with her Royal Secretaries was up.

For the Empress knew a wicked woman like herself would go back to sinning again, just like she did with that unrepentant dyke, Relena would go on to order the deaths of others in the future that always lingered on at the back of her mind, one that always crept right around the next corner.

Relena at this moment was in a meeting with her Royal Cabinet, among them members of the General Staff of the Cassadian military, commander of the National Guard Director Gene Smilas, Marshal of the Armed Forces Igor Sergeyev, and the younger and more dexterous Admiral of the Navy Schneizel Doenitz, the grandson of a highly respected German immigrant who left his homeland for a nation that still burned with righteousness fear of the Lord and ever-loyal assent to the Natural Order of how society and government should be run. The rest of the bodies dressed in dapper suits were the Royal Prime Secretary Volodymyr Zelensky {OOC: no relation to IRL], the Royal Secretary of Energy Lepi Andreyov, the Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs Joachim von Ribbentrop, and the Master of the Royal Office Parvan Angelov. They were all seated on both sides across a long, smooth oak table with the Empress presiding over them on one end of the room.

Surprisingly, Baron Punchev Lukov was among the group, having seated himself near the Empress on her right, an arm and half distance away from her and just like the rest of the ministers in the room had put his laptop and had laid a batch of papers that contained information briefs and documents covering various topics of statecraft ranging from ones that awaited approval on different spheres from energy to finance and onto economics alongside the allocation of funds for projects or proposed budgets for individual municipalities for the infrastructure construction, expansion or renovation - most of which were approved or were discussed on their way to be approved with altercations.

This time, he had considered his appearance. Having put on a dapper jaded green three-piece suit, that complimented his physique to make him appear larger and taller than he was. Other than that, he had a reason to be here, after all, Lukov was someone who held the title of Master Of The Royal Office in the first year and a half of Relena's reign. Back when the Empress was but a terrified girl who regularly edged on the abode of a nervous breakdown. It was the ''butcher baron'', as he was known to his foes and to LPUs alike who mentored the Empress on how to take the reins of power like a proper monarch, on taking the hard decisions that came with the crown with a stoicism that was required of those blessed with Royal blood. Punchev Lukov made sure that Relena had a reliable power base with whom she can count on - a project that almost cost him his life because certain factions in the Siloviki class wanted to co-opt her so that they could further enrich themselves.

Theirs was a botched folly. Their allies in government, in the civil service, in the military, in the regional Estates General, in the courts, in the bureaucracy, and the upper strata of society paid dearly for it.

Lukov remembered this with gleeful gloating, the sheet white faces of half of the people who were summoned in one of those rare live public broadcasts as one of their own co-conspirators read out the names in a twist of irony, as his compadres were each dragged out at the reading of their name one by one - then to be taken onto buses with blackened windows and spirited away to some forest, taken out back and shot in the back of the head.

At this, the Baron felt satisfaction, but also was glad that it meant the Royal Family would be okay, and the Crown and its place in the nation would be preserved.

''...for now, our international trade with our circle of reliable trade partners has not been disrupted by foreign pressure or sabotage, thankfully. But thankfully as of this moment, we have not made any precautions to preserve the flow or export of goods to nations that are willing to trade with us.'' Royal Secretary of Energy Lepi Andreyov poured out his opinion for all to hear, before continuing with his rhetoric,'' Therefore, in my humble opinion, I think it would be wise in the face of such a potential disruption to have our international trade to switch to a more discreet method of economic and financial exchange.''

''But switching off official trade is going to be detrimental either way you look at it, even with the best-arranged smuggling network would still decrease our revenue by a quarter in the best of circumstance. Not to mention that establishing a reliable smuggling arrangement and the payment mechanisms to keep the flow of goods costs money, at great expense of time at that. It is one thing to assist our private entities in importing goods like luxury cars or other status brands products. Nor does it have any clear benefits, if it is not for smuggling military technology and hardware.'' The Empress digressed with the graying, aging man - he was a person who was well past retirement.

''I think it would be recommended in this case, now with the prying eyes of the Judeafied scoundrels focusing their grubby little hands on us, that I think it would be for the better if we are to invest in this sound initiative.'' The Baron expressed himself calm, in a brief collected manner as he laid back on his chair in a measured manner.

''But countries like Hesja, Ejorike, Jajal, and Sakras will not simply toe the line of neither the WA nor the wider community.''

''Those countries Your Majesty, are all but too impoverished or their market alone is simply insufficient alone to satisfy our exports. Dare I voice that even they could cut off official trade ties with us, provided the outcry and other methods of pressure become too big to ignore - not even the Mutual Treaty Alliance would be enough in this case.'' Said the Baron counterintuitive, clasping his hands' fingers together, as his eyes maintained their gaze on his Empress, who looked to two of her other ministers Parvan Angelov and Zelensky to produce their own views on the matter.

''Besides, it is the economies like Lightford, Tonsamozabique, the Bacor Empire, Nifon, and the Common Territories whose markets are of matter to us as sources for our streams of hard currency and tax revenue,'' Lukov remarked one last time before either of his colleagues got to voice their own input on the matter. Lukov turned his attention on them, giving them a nod.

The Master of the Royal Office, Parvan Angelov was the first to speak up.''I think the honorable Baron has a point, Your Majesty. But in that case, it would be better to lose partially these financial means than to have them be scuttled entirely.''

''Looking at this, I don't think there could be any other way I suppose. Baron Lukov is in the right, Your Majesty.'' Said the other supposed co-Number Two men of the Crown-Government.

Lukov, always with that ever-enquiring and leisured expression looked back to the Empress, who turned her deep expressive eyes on him.

''This is your call, Your Majesty. The options have been quite well laid out.'' Punchev calmly chirped, well aware of what decision the Empress was going to pick. Of course, on a matter of such importance, it was the final voice of the Empress that mattered.

Relena took a breath, looking down and back up. She hoped for this meeting to be over soon.

''At such a consensus, I don't I can disagree with the assessment in this case.'' The Empress said.

''Excellent,'' The Baron said, glad that the young woman who he viewed as his younger sister agreed with him,'' As for the issue that I think has been hanging on all our minds. I think we should address the issue on the recent incident surrounding miss Adloprovna and her fortunate demise.'' Lukov reminded the board of ministers, the seethe evident at the mention of miss and the adding of the word ''fortunate''.

''What is there to talk about?'' Parvan rhetorically asked.

''We'll handle the usual outcry like we always have and move on.'' Zelensky retorted at the Baron to back his colleague.

''I'll have my department prepare a statement when they eventually accuse us,'' Joachim said out loud.

''Besides it's not like our valiant field agents have any traces that can have them linked to us or anything,'' Zelensky assured himself, as much as he tried to convince the others.

Such, high-mindedness made Baron Lukov chuckle richly, same as with the Marshal Igor Sergeyev and Director Gene Smilas to burst out laughing. The Empress all the while looked on with a deep frow, that made the men who demonstrated this insolence to subdue their humor.

''Such arrogant neglect is not something I'd like to see from you honorable gentlemen - ever again.'' Lukov remarked with a stern bite in the end before continuing,'' I think we should not overestimate the ability of our enemies to overblown themselves into a disastrous war with our country, now that we have those funny little people over from the New Vissayan Islands letting out their bluster get the better of them. As for Palmyrion, now that is something that has me worried given that they're the wildcard in this case.''

Lukov stroked his bearded chin at the thought, pondering the next course of action.

''What are you suggesting?'' Asked the Royal Office Master who Baron Lukov snapped his looked to, at whom he grinned.

''Oh, nothing too severe. But I think it would be better for our Kingdom as a whole to be prepared for unexpected and unforeseen consequences. Just in case.'' Baron Lukov answered, he turned to the Empress.'' What I would suggest - this concerns your Marshal; is to put our combat-ready fighter-interceptor squadrons on a rotational basis for the next couple of months, until this stupid drama dies down. Additionally, we should increase our submarine patrols along the edges of Krillin, especially our entire southern flank and its peripheries, also mobilize Naval Strike Groups to guard our core trade routes with our international partners, as I am sure that this is one area - have the Aircraft Carrier Strike Group ''Tervel'' and ''Prisyan'' cancel their planned anchor at Krasnov. Raise the combat readiness.....*sight*'' Lukov dook a breath as he got himself tangled in his thoughts.

Marshal Sergeyev gave a grandfatherly chuckle.''So a general combat readiness it would be then my boy, eh. In that case, I suppose we'll need to have the Land Force, Air Force, and Navy to hold war exercises too?''

''Exactly. This would give our enemies a message that we're prepared to meet them in the carnage of war, rather than displaying arrogance that we perceive them to be cowardly - something that would send the wrong kind of message.'' The Baron remarked with positive feedback.'' We'll also need to track the Visayan ''Task Force Avenger'', not to mention to commit satellite IMINT resources to step up monitoring of Palmyrion's strategic military objects, naval ports, air bases, garrison. So that we know what kind of response would prepare, if at all.''

Lukov then turned to address the Director of the National Guard.''General Smilas, I hope you are aware that your part in this is no less important!'' I would suggest you raise the security alert level along all oblasts that border the sea. I smell this is a very possible choice for them to insert infiltrators. Have your armed police and gendarmerie units in their Zones of Responsibility, step up their civic patrols as well as monitoring of the local situations for any suspicious persons or activities.'' The Baron declared with a kind of commanding aura that he always had, even when Lukov was still Master Of The Royal Office.

All the while the Empress looked on at this with admiration. Lukov after all always knew how to handle such a situation - it was in his blood. Such a shame that he stepped down from his post, the duties of Legatus Augusti being too bothersome for him to juggle so many responsibilities at the same time.

''But what will Her Majesty decide on these measures, gentlemen?'' The Baron recalled to them, as they turned their gazes at the Empress, sitting in silence and awaiting her final input, on the final decision.

''Pertaining the current climate, I think it will be for the best if these solutions are implemented in earnest,'' The Empress voiced her agreement, all tired as she put her hand on her temple.''I think this was enough for today. Meeting dismissed.''

The members of the Royal Cabinet obliged, standing up as they picked up their papers and put them in the appropriate folders and collecting their laptops in their work bags. Obliging the command of their Empress as they shooed themselves out of the room, with only the Baron remaining in her presence.

[Nacrad]

Riverfort
08:33 NST (00:33 UTC), 6 January 2021 (Wednesday)
House of Representatives

"Mr. Speaker, while I harbour little love for the LGBTQ+ Community -- More precisely, I simply don't care about their sexual orientation or gender identity whatsoever, as with many of my honourable colleagues, I presume, in the room, I would like to voice that I find the actions of Qassadia unacceptable. While some religions, I won't say which, may imply or explicitly state the being in the LGBTQ+ Community is unacceptable, it is more unacceptable..." Representative Arnold Kwong was speaking in the House of Representatives, the meeting of which is broadcast on the RTN Network Channel 33. This caught a few eyeballs, as this kind of debate is rare, one not about how if Nacrad should intervene in another country due to some sort of threat, nor one about how Nacrad should spend its money, or if some kind of infrastructure is to be built in the backwaters of the country, but one about morals. He kept lashing against Qassadia, totally oblivious or willfully ignorant that this meeting is also streamed online for all, even those in Qassadia, to see.

"... that the Qassadian Government, in its sheer audacity, has attempted, nay, succeeded in extrajudicial killing of a person whose only crime is to voice support for this minority, which must've had been oppressed in this dictatorial regime. Furthermore, the victim, my deepest condolences, had been an avid critic of this regime, who wouldn't be? With Qassadia being this dictatorial dystopia, it is but human nature to criticise it, even a place as pleasant as us has critics, which the honourable Governing Coalition which we oppose can testify! In light of this situation, I hereby propose that the Government of Qassadia be declared hostis humani generis in light of this egregious overstepping of human rights, and I implore this honourable House to make the right choice."

The House passed this resolution. But will the Senate? We shall wait until the pro-forma session is over.

[Qassadia]

Cassadia Today All The News From The Holy Kingdom |Cassadia| International News| Op-ed | Sports | Bussiness| Podcasts| Projects Royal Armed Forces hold military exercises in response to hostile rhetoric from foreign powers January 7th, 2021 Cassadia's Royal Department of Defense recently announced plans to hold massive war games within the next ten days, involving 300,000 personnel including 36,000 tanks, armored personnel carriers, and armored infantry vehicles along with 1,000 aircraft - its biggest military maneuvers since the 1980s. The military exercises are planned to be held across training grounds of military polygons in the Southern, Central, Western, North-Central, and Eastern Military District including units from the Royal Guard Command of the Carthage Military District. The war games will also include command and combat-readiness of the Strategic Rocket Forces as well as CNSG (combat naval strike groups) of the Royal Navy's 1st, 3rd and 7th fleet which in total would involve in total around 100 naval vessels including two Kitty Hawk-class aircraft carriers, the ''Tervel'' and ''Prisyan''. The Cassadia Defense Department later today came out with a statement: “The Shieldbearers drills will particularly focus on combating cruise missiles, aerial offensive operations, and unmanned aerial vehicles, as well as on maneuver and electronic warfare activities against entire enemy formations,’ vertical envelopment capability and ways to rapidly shift between military activities against a simulated large-scale amphibious landing, preventing the establishment of a beachhead.” The 'Shieldbearer' exercises will also involve deep-penetration raids, counter-offensive manoivers, and the use of weaponry heavy-caliber cannon and missile artillery weapons including SAM and ground-based anti-ship missile (ASM) platforms at different times of the day. Additionally, the drill will include naval exercises conducted in the Northern and Southern Sche'gori Sea. Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena (I) Von Peacekraft has directed the military to bolster training in 2021 and use more asymmetric means with conventional ones into a hybrid strategy that can raise to counter the security challenges of the day. The order comes at a time of tense standoffs with Palmyrion over the recent assassination of a disgraced former judge Adlopovna Gazgireyeva by unknown assailants. Her Majesty The Empress, who holds the highest rank of the Cassadian military as Supreme Marshal Of The Armed Forces, ordered the Royal Armed Forces to maintain “full-time combat readiness” and to be ready to “act at any second.” further reading “The commanders and the soldiers of the whole army must… carry forward the spirit of combat without the fear of hardships and the fear of death,”. Empress Relena has directed the Armed Forces to bolster its “frontline training” and “substantially increase” the use of new military hardware in exercises. Calling modern technology perfected over the last 20 years “the future core of combat effectiveness,” Her Majesty has also ordered the military to use more sophisticated computer simulations in drills and to explore ways to add more high-tech and online methods into their operations. Royal Department of Defense press-secretary Oyychmenung Pskov said the ''Shieldbearer'' war games are justified given "aggressive and unfriendly" attitudes towards the Holy Kingdom. Units from the Kingdom of Ejorike and the Great Empire of Hesja will also take part in the exercises at military ranges in central and eastern Cassadia. The maneuvers come at a time of rising tension between Amistad and the Holy Kingdom. Think your friends would be interested? Share this story!

[Langenia]

Presidential Palace, Aragon, Langenia

Nicolas Pablo Furia, President of Langenia, affectionately known as El Presidente by his citizens, sat in his office in the Presidential Palace, in the capital of Langenia. He was doing what he always did...the work of a world leader. There were moments when he occasionally missed his time in the armed forces, the camaraderie that came with serving in the Army special forces. He was brooding on this when the director of his intelligence agency, the Secret Intelligence Bureau (SIB), the Langenian equivalent of the Cassadian GRB, came into the office, flanked by more agents. "What is it now?" he said halfheartedly. "Sir," responded the director, "a bomb exploded in the capital of Palmyrion." "How does this concern me?" he asked, suddenly frowning. "They suspect involvement from one of the nations we just set up diplomatic relations with, one of the very nations you said you would like to foster better relations with at your press conference recently."

"Get to the point!" he snapped. Now the agents suddenly started to shake. Furia was an intimidating person, and getting him angry was not an option. The secret police, the armed forces, and intelligence were all on his side like faithful pets.

"That country was Cassadia, sir," said the director quickly. He discreetly studied the reaction of his boss.

"Give me the report," said Furia. The director pulled a folder full of papers from a satchel and handed it to El Presidente.

As he read Furia suddenly started to feel contempt towards the targets killed in the bombing. He had been brought up against such persons. He was not the only person who would feel that way in Langenia. In Langenia, asking someone on the street what they though of LGBT persons would make them wrinkle their noses in disgust. Furia even considered issuing a statement in support of the bombing, but then realized that it would look very bad for Langenia on the world stage. The country had fought against terrorism, after all, and supporting bombings would look very wrong. He suddenly remembered the agents standing in the office. He looked up. The agents were also glaring at the paper, also feeling contempt towards the targets of the bombing.

"This is what we will do. We will issue a statement calling for de-escalation of the conflict, however, as right now it is only a rumor that the Cassadians instigated it and not officially confirmed, we'll also criticize all those blaming Cassadia already. We must be careful not to commend or condemn the bombing."

The agents nodded. "¡Gloria a la patria, señor!"

---

Official Statement from the Government of the Catholic Republic of Langenia

Recently the bombing in the capital of Palmyrion has come to the attention of the Langenian government. We call on all sides to de-escalate and hold talks to calm the conflict. This way we prevent further issues that become full-fledged war, something no one would like to see. However, we condemn those that already are pointing fingers at the state of Cassadia. There is not sufficient evidence of their involvement, and their accusations merely serve to create tensions. If this does not stop it will end up destroying the fragile peace of this world. We support Cassadia's right to practice self-defense in the face of tension and hostilities.

---

The Grand National Assembly, the legislature of Langenia, stood assembled in its chamber. Instead of kneeling in solidarity with the victim, a sight that might've been seen in the legislatures of other nations of the world, they were standing, as the Speaker of the Grand National Assembly, Deputy Alejandro Alvarez, gave a speech, which was the same thing as the statement released by Langenia previously. "...It is Cassadia's right to practice self-defense in the face of hostile rhetoric!" he yelled. At this many of his fellow deputies started to clap. "If this continues it will only end up escalating and destroying efforts to keep the fragile peace of this world, and stop de-escalation efforts. War is not something to be taken lightly." The cameras broadcasting this on state television as well as on online streaming services focused on his face. "The statement released by our esteemed Supreme Leader, President Nicolas Furia, shall convey our message to the world!" The Assembly started chanting the national motto. "Fatherland, Unity, and Valor! Fatherland, Unity, and Valor!" This was topped off by the deputies waving Langenian and Cassadian flags.

[Faraby]

The assassination of the Cassadian dissident Adlopovna Gazgiriyeva in Palmyrion is a cause for concern and a reminder to all freedom-loving peoples that, even in the brightest of times, our ideals and principles are never completely safe. It is a reminder that enemies still lurk in the shadows, ready to extinguish our voices.

We do not proclaim ourselves to be in complete agreement with Mrs. Gazgiriyeva's ideals, and this is not a seal of endorsement of her advocacy for those with differing sexual orientations. Were she a Farabian citizen and spreading her ideas in our country, we would be among her foremost critics. Yet we believe that even the most disagreeable of ideas and ideologies deserve to be heard, to be advocated in peace, to be debated in a free and open society. Once we deviate from justice and start killing those who disagree with us without proper justification, then we become lower than the very people we condemn. For it is said in the Holy Quran, "Whoever takes a life—unless as a punishment for murder or mischief in the land—it will be as if they killed all of humanity."

We call upon our citizens currently in Cassadia and Palmyrion to take caution in this situation, stay vigilant, and obey the law of those countries so long as it applies to them.

We call upon our friends in the Governments of Cassadia and Palmyrion to bring to justice the perpetrators of this cruel act and make this world a better place for all of God's children, even those whom we disagree with.
-Statement of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Faraby on the assassination of Adlopovna Gazgiriyeva

Prince's Palace
Faraby

Prince Samir would usually eat lunch in one of the dining rooms in the palace. The great dining hall was always available for his use, but in practice it was only used for official, large-scale events - those involving dignitaries from the government or from foreign countries - or family gatherings. Before the Dark Time, when the princely family was still a happy bunch, they would often congregate in the dining hall, with the Prince presiding over the event whenever his schedule allowed him to, and tell tales and make jokes over plates of the country's delicacy. That was, of course, before the Dark Time. As much as he would like to have them close to him, most of his relatives now lived away from the palace. Some now dwelled in the city, some outside the country. The few who remained in the palace often preferred to keep to their rooms. Family gatherings in the dining hall had become few and far between. The trauma of the Dark Time had inflicted significant damage on the unity of the princely family, damage from which they would not recover anytime soon.

The Prince had a son, 19-year-old Jafar, currently enrolled at the University of Faraby. Even he preferred to reside at the university dormitory, despite his father gently warning him of the security implications. It didn't matter, though, for the people loved Prince Samir and his son. It did mean the Prince - more often than not - had no dining companion. He did not completely despise this state of things - it did, after all, leave the Prince with more time for quiet contemplation of the affairs of state - but he wished that it would not always have to be like this for the rest of his life.

The only companion the Prince had in the dining room, if you can call them that, was the guard standing by the door, whose only interaction with his sovereign was opening and closing the door when the Prince, or whoever happened to be seeking the Prince, left the room (the same task for when the Prince entered the room was left to the guard posted outside the room), along with a well-rehearsed set of "thank you", a smile, and a nod from the Prince. The Prince knew their names, but still all the guards seemed the same to him. They were dressed like the Janissaries of old, in a concession to tradition, although - in a concession to modernity - carrying a pistol instead of a musket. They stood still by the door, with a vaguely grim expression, as if waiting for the invisible enemy to break through the painted walls.

Today was the same as all the other days. Held up by paperwork in the office, the Prince was late to his own lunch; he did not even encounter the servants who put the plates on the table. Per the Prince's own instructions, they were to serve the food precisely as scheduled and not wait for him if he had not arrived. As he embarked on his solitary march from the office to the dining room, he passed by several servants and courtiers, all of whom nodded and said "Your Highness" reverently and went their own merry way. The usual guard was there outside the dining room, opening the door for his sovereign and closing it behind him. The perfunctory "thank you", smile, and nod were delivered. And, of course, inside the room was another guard posted beside the door. The servants obeyed their orders; the plates were already there. Without saying another word, the Prince assumed his seat and reached for his spoon and fork.

And then there was a knock on the door. The guard pursed his eyebrows slightly, turning towards the door. "Open the door," said the Prince. The guard did as he was ordered to, and solemnly Murad Molla, Secretary to the Prince, made his entrance.

"Your Highness," said the secretary, nodding, "the Minister of Foreign Affairs has arrived. He is waiting at your office, per your instructions."

The Prince nodded back. "Thank you, Murad." As the secretary started back towards the door, the Prince raised his hand, waving a little. "Murad, wait. Go back to my office and tell the minister to come here. Show him the way if he doesn't know. I want to talk with him here."

The secretary's eyes widened somewhat; for as long as he could remember, the Prince had never asked someone outside the family to join him in the dining room. Of course, he had no choice in his response. "Certainly, sir," he mustered a quick reply, before nodding again and leaving to fetch the Minister of Foreign Affairs.

The awaited guest arrived at the dining room a few minutes later, seemingly equally taken aback by the Prince's request. He was guided to his destination by the secretary, who was then sent away with a polite "thank you" from the Prince. The Prince bade his Minister of Foreign Affairs, Mansur al-Sulaymi, sit right across the table from him, then ordered the guard inside the room to move outside, leaving the room entirely to the two members of government. "Don't worry, I'll open the door myself," stated the Prince as the guard exited the room and closed the door behind him.

"I must apologize for the fact that we haven't prepared any food for you," the Prince began, a smile forming on his face, "although, looking at your... appearance, it does seem that you have had more than your share of food."

"Well," said the Minister of Foreign Affairs, with a mixture of a smile and a sigh, watching the Prince proceed to consume his own food, "I cannot deny that fact, sir."

That brought out a chuckle from the Prince. "Just kidding, don't take that personally. I see that the ministry has published your statement, which, of course, I wholeheartedly agree with. I think we can safely hope that this statement won't invite too much attention and hostility to our island."

"I trust and hope it will not, sir," said Mansur. "As you requested last night, I have asked my contacts regarding our citizens in Cassadia, and also in Palmyria, and I can say there aren't too many of our people there. There are only... 10 Farabians in Cassadia... and 7 in Palmyrio-"

"That can actually make our job harder," the Prince cut him off, his eyes widening, shifting from the plate to the minister. "If violence erupts, I want to make sure that our citizens can return home safely."

"I will not worry too much about that, sir," Mansur replied. "They are all concentrated in and around the capital, which is why they are easy to track down. I've talked with Hüseyin and we both agree that so far there are no signs the situation will deteriorate into violence. As much as we hate to see it, sir, outspoken dissidents getting murdered is a regular occurrence, as we ourselves know all too well. We don't see any indications that the Cassadian situation will turn into something resembling a riot or revolution or civil war."

"You have a point," said the Prince, "but I ask that you monitor the movements of our people there as best as you can. They aren't too many, right? That shouldn't make the job very hard. I'm just worried about our people."

"We'll work on it, sir."

"Any other news regarding the Cassadian situation that I should know about?" queried the Prince.

"Well, sir, the, uh, Catholic Republic of Langenia-"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Langenia. The Catholic Republic of Langenia. They are led by this president named Nicolas Pablo Furia. Seems to be a swell guy, his supporters just call him El Presidente. So they issued a statement calling for, I quote, 'all sides to de-escalate and hold talks to calm the conflict'."

The Prince took a sip from the glass of water in front of him. "Who are these 'all sides' you're talking about?"

"We assume Cassadia and Palmyrion, basically the nations that have an interest - a vested interest, one might say - in this case. They also, and I quote again, 'condemn those that already are pointing fingers at the state of Cassadia' because so far there is still no sufficient evidence to conclude that the Cassadian state is involved in all this. They also stated their support for Cassadia's right to self-defense in the face of hostilities."

"Well, then they surely aren't accusing us because we sure aren't pointing fingers at Cassadia. In fact, it seems that we are pretty much in agreement with this state of Langenia and their El Presidente." The Prince chuckled.

The Prince looked down momentarily at his plates, spoon and fork dancing around the ceramic. Then he turned again at his minister. "We need to keep on monitoring the situation. Above all I want to make sure that our citizens are safe and if anything happens over there we can get them home safely."

"Of course, sir."

[Qassadia]

Royal Office of Her Imperial Majesty

To: His Excellency President Nicholas Pablo Furia
From: Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena (I) Von Peacekraft
Encryption: Highest

---

You Excellency,

My heart has been overfilled with joy knowing that there are still those across the world who stand for and burn passionately with righteousness in that which The Langenian government has so far approached the situation pertaining to the accursed matter around the assassination of, former judge, Mrs. Adloprovna Gazgiriyeva. While her passing-away in itself is unfortunate, Mrs. Adloprovna's legacy is starkly different; having been throughout her tenor as a judge on the Special Security Court to be nothing, but a lowly traitor who deliberately sabotaged the functions of her judicial bench to persecute and hand down justice unto those who are and have always had tried to upend the moral, spiritual, political and economic order that has kept Cassadia as one for over millennia now.

To address those who have so far accused or are about to accuse my country. Neither Cassadia nor its honorable institutions or its security services, who are on guard protecting the nation from foreign and domestic enemies, are to blame for the assassination of Mrs. Adloprovna, nor do they have any connections or involvement in her recent demise in any capacity.

The conduct of your government in light of this international incident is all the more admirable, as the usual enemies who make no attempt to hide their contempt of my nation and defame and slander it at every chance they have, have latched on to this to accuse my nation, the moment the news broke out. For that, I commend you, and Grand Speaker Alejandro Alvarez in stooping for my country. Something from which I hope will grow the ties between our countries into an agreement that will advance the prosperity and security of both our Great Civilizations.

Yours Truthfully,
Relena

[Qassadia]

Mytrokin Estate
Drainorv
Holy Kingdom of Cassadia

Relena breathed in the cold, humid air of winter, such as the climate of Cassadia in January, it was more or less like that during half the year in the Holy Kingdom; this fluid combination of cold, humid, foggy, snowy weather that began every time at the end of October and all the way to the end of February. With its chilling, dog-cold frostbite air that could freeze a can of boiling water mid-air if it was poured off balcony mid-air.

The Empress was currently strolling along a well-beaten gravel path that was well maintained to not be covered in snow. Still, that did not mean that she was not completely warm either, shivering enough that it made her huddle her arms to her chest, still not as bountiful and well-endowed as those of her older sisters or her lady-in-waiting or even her baby sister Nunnally. The Empress smiled, knowing that the time to pick an appropriate husband of aristocratic blood was nigh-approaching to pick a consort so that an heir could be produced for this union, fit to ascend the throne. Relena felt the cold drops of tears stream down her delicate cheeks as the thoughts of her greatest love, Knight-Agent Heero Yuri - the man with whom she desired to spend the rest of her days with having to fantasize for these brief moments to imagine herself living the commoner's life, surrounded by his beautiful children as she took care of them and their house.

But the thoughts and reminiscing of such dreams were a pointless folly because dreams were free after all, and reality and its constraints that locked out such fantasies were not. So she Relena had to carry on and do her duty, to fulfill that promise to Papa whom she gave him her word that even though she was but a girl that was barely entering womanhood, would look after Cassadia with an iron-willed determination and stubborn persistence of a man.

Relena took another breath as she continued her walk through what was supposed to be the garden, only being barely visible by the sheer pile-on of the snow that the Holy Kingdom was currently experiencing.

Where is that climate change that all the people are talking about?

The Empress did not bother with this sudden thought as she continued strolling through the path towards the palace. This was one of those moments where she needed her precious solitary time, to reflect on her actions and her past deeds.

She concluded that in all of them she did not bear any regrets in her heart or immortal soul.

At the palace

Zelensky tapped his paper as he had to bother going through the next batch of folders, doing so with urgency as it pertained exactly the allocation of funds for the upcoming exercises that were about to be held in the next few upcoming weeks. It was an uncomfortable idea, as the mentality of frugality always dominated that the Crown-Government to save every lev and stotinka it could save in the coffers. The many expenses that the Crown-Government had wether the Forever War in the Territorial Dependency of New Carthage, or the basic safety and welfare system they had to support for Freeborn Subjects of the Crown, was not something that allowed for Cassadia to be wasteful with its money, as neither printing more money nor having to borrow from international creditors was an option.

''How is it going so far?'' A voice called out from somewhere to Zelensky's side, he was a slender man in a black suit, with a rather well-groomed long hair that was made into a ponytail, standing in front of a wall-size window that gave a beautiful view of the distant Kavkaz mountains below which were the rolling hills and gorges that were at the approaches to the island continent's longest-running mountain chain that stretched across half the island’s southern coast; home to the rough and tough peoples of the Tribal Confederation.

''We'll be wrapping this up soon. The budget figures for the planned war games are looking good. Thankfully it did not turn out to be the kind of budget hole that my people originally thought.''

''How wonderful, Relena shall be pleased to hear this.'' The mysterious figure exclaimed with a glad tone in his voice. Turning around to face the Prime-Secretary who had still seated himself in his chair.

''I think I should brief her on those matters myself. Not to mention get her comfortable and have the maids prepare her tea. She must be freezing from that weather!'' Said the man, before walking out of the room with a lion-like manner in the confidence in his step.

Zelensky said nothing as he looked down back to his papers. Letting out a sigh as he hoped that the Baron's pick for the Empress's s hand was worthy for her hand.

[New Visayan Islands]

George Edwin R. Marin
Abante Bisaya Building, Mandaue, DH
January 6th, AD 2021
1721 PHT

"George, the big question we have to ask can be best summed in two words: cui bono? Who stands to gain from something this blatant?" On the other end of the line was Senator Albedo, who responded to the possibility that with all the suspicion on Cassadia, the likelihood that the Gazgireyeva Bombing was a false flag was a non-zero number. "Given the fact that we only recently established formal diplomatic ties with Palmyrion--and this is a formalization of the ties made during the Galadon Campaign--any halfway reasonable Visayan would rule out one of our own, and I suspect not even the underground community that we can safely presume Palmyrion has would pull this off if the country's societal fabric is any indication. No; from what information that flows, the likelihood that Cassadia had a hand in this is several orders of magnitude greater than anything else. In fact, the means, motive, and opportunity in this bombing are obvious enough that a law student focusing on criminal law could find them."
"It is probably good, then, that there are some things are too obvious to deny. Gracias, Senador Albedo," Marin said.
"De nada. I look forward to tonight's edition of the news." The news program bearing the company name was aired in Spanish, after all, and by the time Senator Albedo's snippet was aired, it would be both voiced over and subtitled; Abante Bisaya was willing to do both.

Aiden Tan
Visayan Confederation Assembly Hall
1812 PHT

Several buses with the banner "House of Assemblymen" awaited the people coming out of the Assembly Hall. Many of the Assemblymen, coming from out of the District of Humabon or Cebu, took the bus to and from their designated apartments. Housing wasn't an issue for Assemblymen like Aiden, as the House of Assemblymen maintained agreements with the landlords of nearby apartments whose units would be rented out to him, his colleagues, and their staff. It was, on average, worth 5% of an Assemblyman's net income per annum including utilities. Aiden took one of the buses, his assigned bodyguard taking a motorcycle and trailing him.
His fiance was waiting at the unit; he was with the Bank of the Visayan Islands, managing the branch in the Lahug District. Marion Guzman had met Aiden in a party three and a half years earlier. They dated until Aiden popped The Question in mid-September; the wedding was scheduled for February 5th. The irony that a Socialist was marrying a banker was not lost on either, but who were any of their colleagues to judge?

Atty. Fatima Irene L. Marquez, JD, MBA
Peregrine Suites, Cebu City, DH
January 6th, AD 2021
1911 PHT

At 29, Fatima Irene came off as a bit of a firebrand. The daughter of a Baptist pastor, she thought she had seen it all; what had happened in the House proceedings put paid to that notion. The proceedings drove home the fact that they were looking at the actions attributed to a nation that was suspicious on so many levels that any hotter heads would be well within their rights to say what was on their mind...and actually be right. Her openly gay colleague from Siquijor definitely fit the bill in that regard; she might not agree with his orientation or his politics, but she was aware that he and their fellow LGBT+ colleagues shared the pain, as it were.
After eating dinner, she contemplated the possible courses of action. The Confederation did not recognize Cassadia as a legitimate entity for several reasons, among them the institution of slavery. In fact, she knew that as an Amistad signatory, the Confederation was technically at war with slaver states like Cassadia, viewing such states as effectively waging war against all of humanity. There was also the talk about war crimes and genocide committed by institutions tied to the Cassadian government; the proceedings included a reminder that they were, by all rights, looking at what might well be a country run by neo-Nazis.

[Qassadia]

Drainorv International Airport

The sound of engines screaming was heard as the airlifters (mainly C-130s and C-5s) of the Royal Air Force began to arrive. The airport was still functioning as normal, though there were fewer flights inbound save for people returning home. For the most part, people were leaving Drainorv on foreign international flights. The enormous strategic airlifters also took off as they taxied back on the runway to take off, and fly back to provide further air transport for other units coming in from several parts of the Holy Kingdom.

Security was tight at the airport, and Military Police directed traffic away from the Military Designated Area of the International Airport. A flight of modernized F-4E 'Terminator' was circling round the clock beyond the sight of the naked eye, ready to intercept any suspicious flights going in or out.

The Royal Department of Defense had currently had several important active missions underway. Mainly the staging of large-scale and intricate exercises that have been unheard of since the 1979 ''RAGE'' wargames that preceded Cassadia's war with the People's Revolutionary Republic of Albarazil. In addition to the tensions being raised by hostile powers that were signatory to Amistad. Accordingly, the Holy Kingdom had to come through with its unwavering message that Cassadia would not be a pushover unlike many of the 3rd rate powers or failed bandit countries that these nations were signatories of this international pact beat their chests over having valiantly defeated them.

To mark this usually unprecedented occasion - a welcome march was played by the marching band of the Drainorv military garrison wearing their M81 BDUs and ushankas. General Mikhail Bardachenko - a tall, milk-white skinned but tanned from his service in New Carthage whose scare marked his essence of masculinity as it cut across his face - also arrived with some of his staff to greet Lieutenant General Orlov and welcome their arrival. General Bardachenko was a member of the General Staff of the Royal Armed Forces. They like all the rest wore the ''wood cammies'' that were the M81, looking cool and relaxed in the chilling cold. He was a Sche'gor and had grown up on the flat steppes of the Tengri Peninsula.

“General, your men have been greatly encouraged by the words of Her Majesty. I am moved to see their winter gear and that they are in a peak combat condition. They rushed here, to the call of their Empress in arms. For whom it shall be an honor to defend the Holy Kingdom until the last drop of blood.” he informed Bardachenko. “But I anticipated that at least it would be coming from the oven to the chilly breezes of the snowy mountains and so I am prepared.”

The stream of men arriving were members of the 422nd Motorized Brigade wearing their PASGT flak vest and helm while they were carrying their whole host of assorted gear in duffle bags and ALICE rucksacks as their mag-less, slung G3A4 rifles kicked up-and-down as they disembarked from the airplanes. They would be approached by Cassadian soldiers from the 6/1st Logistics Regiment of the Drainorv garrison, who had brought a long line of a convoy comprised of M939 trucks. These soldiers were in the same M81 ''cammies'' as their superior officers, save for the officer's caps and the rank insignia that communicated their rank along and high combat boots. On average the Cassadian soldiers, most of whom were mainly conscripts having finished their basic training were raw and tough-looking with light-colored hair ranging from light chestnut to brown to blonde, to ginger, but here and there would be also those who sported features that greatly distinguished them from their countrymen with their overall shorter statures and mongloid facial features. As a part of their courtesy and hospitality, they also gave each soldier, personally, an officer's MRE pack along with a welcoming gin.

For immediate shelter in the blizzard, a dozen large Romney huts covered under snow camouflage netting were available to provide shade and areas to rest and refit and if need be use showers and toilets. The toilets and showers both had a strong but not altogether unpleasant chemical smell indicating sterilization processes. There was a fourth Romney which had a kitchen set up in it that had a number of foods available that were rich in fat and protein.

There were also buses to convey troops to the designated housing before they were shipped off to their deployment stations up somewhere up in the Kavkaz mountain chain by Chinooks - wherever their superiors decided. Unfortunately, there were no air-conditioned units to heat the covered passenger carriages. Cassadian troops were used to the climate, but it would not have helped to have as they each covered themselves with their standard-issued poncho liners. The large, sturdy but dated M939 trucks were organized into convoys to bear them to Drainorv Air Base and were driven by Transport Corps soldiers. The soldiers exchanged petty talk or the usual convos that were so regular for soldiers; ranging from the recent news currently going on to when they would be allowed leave to frequent the nearest pub.

[Lauzanne]

January 3, 0821
Covert flight to Sam Ramon AFB

"Have you heard of Occam's Razor?"

The first words to leave the lips of the operative known as True Faith broke the silence inside the well-furnished cabin, the other five occupants looking his way. Four of them had relatively simple and plain clothes on, nondescript jackets, jeans or cargo shorts, and backpacks down by the sides of the chairs. The last one was a fair-skinned blonde woman with piercing green eyes, dressed in similar business attire as True Faith but clad in a skirt rather than True Faith's trousers, and she was the first to speak up.

"The simplest theory is most often the correct one." The woman replied, causing the four in plain clothes to nod in agreement.
"Correct, Elegia. If a Cassadian gets assassinated by Cassadian nationals, knowing that the one to be assassinated embarrassed the Cassadian government and is seen by their very existence as an affront to said government, it has to be them, because others committing the act complicates things."
"Hang on though, aren't you supposed to approach with an open mind?" The leader of the four plain-clothed operatives asked, a bemused smile on his face.
"If I was a police detective, maybe. But there's many more reasons for murdering someone as a person rather than carrying out an assassination on someone for what they represent." True Faith answered, the unlit cigarette bobbing up and down in his mouth. Now that the leader got a good look at True Faith talking, he could see that he really did look like he hasn't slept in all 27 years of his life.
"This Cassadian lady was a defector if I remember right." The leader leaned back in his chair, looking at the similarly-clothed man to his right. Sitting next to him was his dog, a massive Lauzannean Wolfdog, it's golden and black fur shining under the morning light filtering through the windows.
"The Cassadian government is two things: Mysterious and repressive. And she did two things: Shine a light on it's inner workings, but also married a Palmyrian lady. Personally, I'm surprised it's taken them so long."
"So what, we go, we flick through debris and shit, find out if it really was them?" The leader looked to the two agents, True Faith nodding in Elegia's direction.
"Precisely. Such an act is a risky ploy, and already people are accusing each other and stepping up exercises." Elegia explained.
"If we can find evidence, the Cassadians can either apologise, pay reparations, or soon enough they'll be going to war." True Faith added.
"Sounds like just the thing for us to do. Barely six months out of the Spring War." One of the other plain-clothed men commented.
"Actually, I specifically chose you so you didn't lose your edge, Mario." True Faith said, his cold blue eyes sharpening as the man rolled his eyes.
"You save one girl from a fucking RSM compound and suddenly you're Mario." The man replied, annoyed that the agent already was aware of his new nickname.

Suddenly, a soft 'bing' sound came from the intercom, the calm voice of the captain following soon after.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll put your seatbelts on, we're entering the final approach momentarily."
True Faith nodded at the others, who all buckled up and took on a new air of professionalism.

---

Not 10 minutes later, they had landed among the busy military airbase, the small Falcon 50 a strange outsider compared to all of the military aircraft that surrounded it. The door came down, the stairs extending as the six Lauzanneans disembarked, one with a dog on a leash, two with large duffel bags, and the last one keeping an eye out. Four white BMW M5's were waiting for them, with True Faith stopping to look at the group assembled before him as the Palmyrian contingent approached.

"We have a job to do, so let's get to work."

[Qassadia]

Joint Press Statement Addressing Recent Events Issued By The Press Offices Of The; Royal Office of Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena Von Peacekraft The Royal Department of Foreign Affairs The General Reconnaissance Bureau The death of former judge Adloprovna Gazgireyeva and her two adopted children is a truly unfortunate event for which her blood family grieves. For even a person like her is a beloved child of God, and thus we express our sympathies to her family in light of this truly unfortunate tragedy that has further deepened their grief among others which deeply wounded their dignity and love for her. To address the main issue of the matter. Our country has been virulently defamed for an act of assassination before even the burning husk of the car's flame in which former judge Gagireyeva was in, was even put out. We of the Crown-Government categorically and unequivocally deny any involvement in having had either our institutions or nationals regarding her recent assassination concerning the death of her two adopted children whose demise was the most heart-wrenching of all. May the Lord grant them eternal peace among His Heavenly Kingdom. In light of the obvious malign attempts to falsely link the death of former judge Adloprovna by hostile state-actors towards our country in any capacity, way, shape, or form - even if they were to manufacture forged evidence or through the staging of a false flag incident which this unfortunate extrajudicial killing most definitely was if the almost instantaneous condemnation by the usual anti-International Law Amistad Pact signatories. To incite world opinion against our country to lay the groundwork for a war for which these regimes have little to no grasp of the kind of destruction and death which is to subsequently follow if they were to have it their way. We thus stand unshaken in our conviction, that this assassination was a treacherous malign action that was schemed by such state-backed actors to call for a violent response to an act that in no way can be proven as to who was the exact perpetrator of this attack. But what we with most confidence can say is that the Holy Kingdom will not be marginalized or bullied in the face of violent and Satanic regimes who seek to impose their way of life upon our country and to enslave our people to foreign corporations and creeds. Signed, Her Imperial Majesty Empress Relena (I) Von Peacekraft Master of the Royal Office Ser Parvan Angelov Chief Director of the GRB, Lieutenant-Colonel Hafez Nonnete Royal Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Ser Joachim von Ribbentrop.

8th January 2021
Carthage
Royal Palace of Carthage

It was the early hours of night-time currently over the megapolis that was the sprawling and ever-bustling city of Carthage, gracing it with its patchily cloudy and pinkish-orange sky. Though it was not the case for the entire country, however, as Cassadia was a huge country, rightly being labeled an island-continent due to its enormous land area that covered almost five million square kilometers. Thus having multiple time zones. Some of them are half-hour and quarter-hour time zones.

Relena Von Peacecraft in this time of the early evening was doing what she usually did. If not attending Crown-Government briefings, or taking weighty decisions whose impact concerned everyone, or going to highly-publicized visits to cut ribbons be it, over a new highway, subway, harbor, or a new manufacturing plant. To inspecting military units, from simple training outposts in the remote reaches of the Kavkaz mountains to the elite, formidable and high-tech conventional formations that were dedicated to guarding Carthage (or other important cities like Etropole, Ilopirt, Sibirsk) until the last man, to strategic units that operated the missile silos, mobile launchers and strategic bombers that were to release weapons of world-ending power.

She sighed and sat back into her chair having only a moment ago, been looking over prospective charts, reports, and studies on the health and condition of the economy of the Kingdom...they were not good, but yet were not terrible either. Of course, the usual embargoes and sanctions from the World Assembly always hindered the economic development of Cassadia, but not to the point where oftentimes other countries found themselves descending into shortages, poverty, half-working or dysfunctional institutions and services over lack of funds or even lawlessness and anarchy.

Because Cassadia was not the usual unstable, tin-pot, small country that was usually the victims of the bigger fish. That was because Cassadia not only could consider herself a part of the ''bigger fish'' economically and military, but it was rather due to the one thing that other countries like Iraq or Federal Yugoslavia could not have possessed, even if in their case was only a quarter successful at.

Relena sighed and looked up to the ceiling deep in thought, imagining how all of these companies could work to their optimal levels if foreign orders could be struck if it had not been for all the mountain of boot-to-throat restrictions levied by the World Assembly...not that the Cassadian was in a downward spiral or stagnant, rather anemic still tumbling and dragging itself along and surviving when compared to the far worse off economic conditions of other countries in similar international standing.

Despicable degenerates, may God burn them all!

The pure blood of the usually haughty Empress, could not resist but boil at the sensational overflowing force of pure abominate that she bore against those countries that wanted her country, her land, her Holy Kingdom to be nothing but a fractured speck of dirt as a failed state that we're the one of many that these...these wretched of the Amistad Pact had vanquished by the strength of their overwhelming number alone. While Cassadia as a military power was a capable power in that regard, having built up a world-class military with the generous aid and programs of NATO while the Cold War was still raging, and Krillin was but one of many arenas for the ideological struggle for domination between the forces of capitalism and communism.

But those days were long over gone, and Cassadia was but another malign force that was thrown into the bucket of ''outposts of tyranny'' that needed to be brought down one way or the other. By other supposedly liberal countries who did not bother to look after their own shortcoming and societal dysfunction at the sheer encouragement of lax behavior and morals, they allowed for.

The Empress however saw it differently; she felt pride in that Cassadia was from a different cloth than the rest of the countries that covered the world, in that even in this modern day of apostasy and self-indulgent depraved hedonism had nations that were formerly Christian threw off their alignment and commandments of the Lord, the Holy Kingdom clung on and by the Saints would they cling on to it until The Day To Come.

The Empress shifted her gaze off the ceiling and back onto her desk. Realigning in her chair, Relena inclined it to her Partners'-style desk. Turning on the computer and clicking on a special icon on her desktop that connected her to an encrypted, private Crown-Government intranet system through which all Royal Cabinet members were familiar in using to communicate sensitive matters of statecraft. Opening a side-bar which rolled on a long-list of bureaucrats, the Royal Secretaries, and all the most important senior officers of the Royal Cassadian Armed Forces and General Staff, scrolling down the long list for several minutes before finally finding his name. Clicking on it, before turning on the video option as a black screen displaying the words ''STANDBY'' in Cassadian Cyrillic.

The screen finally turning back to life, displaying a live image of a geriatric, but gracefully aged old man, that would have seemed like anyone's grandpa if it was not for his polished medals, a large and colorful bar of service ribbons on his chest, as well as prim-and-proper drab olive-green officer's uniform. That man, Marshal Of The Armed Forces Igor Sergeyev, ranks second only to her own. Marshal Igor Sergeyev was someone whom the Empress respected immensely, partly because he was one of the highest decorated military men who had proven themselves above the call of duty and partly because Relena looked up to the man as a grandparent figure.

Igor bowed in his chair.''You honor me with you seeking my audience Your Majesty. As to what have I been honored with that you seek me in this late hour?''

The Empress almost bowed in return herself but instead opted for a slow and respectful nod through which the young woman showed reverence to one that was her elder.

''Greetings to you as well Marshal, and I do apologize for having had to disturb you. The reason why I did so, is if you could be as kind as to o enlighten me on our current status of forces we have called up for the exercises.'' The Empress said in a cordial tone.

''Preparations for our exercises have picked up at an appropriate pace which we have desired for in the outcome. I assure you Your Majesty that the war games you have called for will be in their full swing at the beginning of next week. As I am sure you know, it takes time to position units to their designated deployment points and even longer for the necessary equipment to be deployed by rail and airlift. Though I am glad that this as well is also being executed at double the normal rate we usually do for our annual tactical, strategic, and command staff exercises.'' The Marshal said with the warmness of a grandfather in his voice, for indeed he looked on Relena as a grand daughter; after all, he was one of those few men who gave his promise to the venerable Charles to look after her and guide and aid Relena in her righteous reign, and gently advise and correct when she will err.

A smile curled on the woman's lips, glad at the recent news of the development. Truly the matters were moving along as they should be.

''In that case, I am profoundly glad Marshal. Since it is so, then I would like to meet your staff at Central Armed Forces Command by the end of the week. Have me filled in on the inner and more detailed intricate parts of the war games.'' The Empress stated confidently, expecting the obvious reply. It was not a request after all

''As is your will, Your Majesty. It shall be done.'' The elderly officer affirmed her, solemnly.

''Excellent. We shall have the military brief session at noon then. Until then I want you to take care'' Said the Empress with satisfaction, nodding to the marshal as she severed the connection.

In a short moment proceeding this, the sudden crank of the door to the right of Relena opened, which was to reveal a figure of a tall, middle-aged man in his late forties, yet youthful-enough in the face with a chiseled strong jawlines, and chestnut hair that was combed back to reach the middle of his neck. It was the Master Of The Royal Office, Sir Parvan Angelov.

He bowed down to his waist in deep respect.'' Your Majesty, we have stated the assassination, as per your instructions and council of Baron Lukov.'' Conveyed Parvan to Relena as she looked up to him from the chair, spinning her chair back to the mess of paper-mass that was near and all around her iMac.

''Yes, that affair with the dyke that *wife* accessory of hers for her sapphic unnatural dispositions.'' The Empress mumbled almost with a whispered, loud enough for Parvan to hear as she crossed one leg over the other to reveal the o' so delicate skin of her smooth legs. All the while leisurely going through her batch of papers, signs clearly written all over her face of the usual fatigue and bags under her eyes.

''What has made you come to me Ser Angelov if I dare so inquire?''

Parvan stepped up, clearly showing hesitation in what he wanted to say.'' It's from Baron Lukov, Your Majesty. He's interested to hear of how you found your recent courtship with the Duke of Guria has gone through?''

The Empress frowned, more as outrage at herself than for the question her servant posed.

''Convey to the good Baron that my recent courtship with the Tvrtko has gone in a manner I found splendid. Though I do need time to still weigh in on my choice of marrying his Most Honored Marquise Jajace Tvrtko of Gurai.'' Relena informed Parvan.''But tell him not to be of an anxious mind - as I will be making my decision very soon.''

The Empress thought fast, giving Parvan a wink that gave the respectable man of the Royal Office a hint, which he reciprocated with a silent, but a glad expression. Giving a light bow before he excused himself off the office of Cassadia's monarch.

[South Reinkalistan]

Theme: Strife - A New America

Commission for Political Loyalty, Operator's Office
Archansakka Complex, Turaniskidak

The Archansakka Complex always stood out in Turaniskidak. Following the massive damage the city had sustained during the war of 1964-65, the historic, high-medieval aesthetic had had swathes of it destroyed and ultimately reduced to rubble. What replaced it in the process of rebuilding was a brutalist, concrete jungle. Grey apartment blocks stretched throughout countless districts, while structures composed of faded bricks denoted the odd food distribution center. Run-down office blocks stood next to seedy-looking state entertainment clubs, with ill-maintained tarmac weaving its imprecise way through the imposing, homogenous mass of buildings. This grim atmosphere pervaded the attitude of its inhabitants, who seemed just as dull and blank as their surroundings.

However, in the center of the city - housing the elite of the capital and by extension the P.F.R. at large - there stood a bleach-white frame holding multiple panes of one-sided, reinforced glass in the form of a gigantic, imposing building which overlooked the city. Its appearance was extraordinary in comparison to its drab surroundings -- it was as if it had been derived from science fiction, a conception of an alien mind on an otherwise mediocre plane of existence. With extortionate expense, it had been a work in progress since 2007, and, in 2019, it had finally finished. An ostentatious display of construction and engineering, it was a small ray of hope to the city. Broadcasts and posters depicted it as the future of the nation, a small window through which one could see what the whole city would eventually look like.

And, to the credit of the party propagandists, many believed that might well be the case. And so, with this in mind, the workers of Reinkalistan laboured forth, with the hopes of building a future perhaps their grandchildren might enjoy. To this end, the building stood as a gleaming monument towards a vague notion of progress. It was all anyone could do, when all was said and done.

But in this complex, lying beneath its sleek exterior, was the barely-concealed purpose of the project: to provide a new headquarters for the Commission of Political Loyalty. The Commissioner himself - a thin, balding man with wire-frame glasses to match his frame - sat in a dark office at the building's very top, with a monitor from which he commanded his bureaucratic Empire. Since its formation in 2005, the Commission had taken perhaps extensive control over aspects of life in the P.F.R.; on top of acting as the de-facto law enforcement, it also managed the civil service, oversaw the military, orchestrated foreign intelligence, and organised administrative measures in the various regions of the Federation. The economic planning boards and production coalitions, however, thus far had eluded their otherwise all-encompassing grasp.

The man himself was eagerly awaiting the Political Commissar assigned to Cassadian operations. The Commission had inserted a handful of investigators - well-versed in Cassadian culture and dialect - into the country before, but they had rather quickly gone missing without a trace. That had always been a sore spot for him. The P.F.R. had operatives in governments across the globe, and at the very least maintained an active presence in most countries of relevance; even the DPRK had one or two party members on Turaniski's payroll. But Cassadia - that infernal heap of aristocratic rot and bourgeois decadency - had thus far remained free of what was held by many to be a nigh all-pervading institution. It was infuriating and, even more than that, embarrassing. Only four operatives maintained a very subtle presence in the country.

The clock struck five past mid-day. The door to the office slowly creaked open, and in stepped a broad-shouldered, tall figure -- at last, the Commissar had arrived. His piercing green eyes remained clearly visible, despite the room's quite dim lighting; short and straight black hair sat atop his head. "Terribly sorry for my lateness, Comrade Akhlesk."

"Your tardiness is noted yet forgiven," noted the Commissioner in his customary monotone, "yet if you could kindly refrain from it in future, that would be much appreciated."

"Will do, Comrade Akhlesk. Apologies once more." With a sigh, the Commissar sat himself down in a chair opposing his senior, adjusting his tie and cap slightly. "Well, I was told to meet you here regarding my men in Cassadia. To what extent should I utilise the resources at my disposal? Needless to say, they're most certainly limited."

"I am fully aware of the shortcomings of your tenure, Commissar. Rest assured, it has required some convincing of the Premier to even allow you to maintain your station." This was a lie. Turaniski hasn't so much as commented on Cassadia and the P.F.R.'s operations there. "You have a chance at redemption for your incompetence." Across the Commissar's grim face, hope flickered. "We have had communication with a tiny - imperceptibly small, in fact - group of sympathisers among the Cassadian population. As citizens, they should be able to move around with significantly less suspicion than our rather conspicuous agents are permitted." He looked at the Commissar, expecting input.

"Sounds hopeful, Commissioner."

"Yes. Very. If given the right materials and due discretion, we could use them for purposes of information-gathering and, given time, some more... active measures."

"Understood, Commissioner." The Commissar did need to ask what such measures were.

"Dismissed."

⠀ The People's Federation of Reinkalistan Official Statement Released as an open statement for the attention of the international community. Sent on behalf of the Prime Commissariat. Authorised by the Commission for Political Loyalty. 9ᵀᴴ JANUARY 2021 PRIME COMMISSAR MOZHKIN TURANISKI CESSATION OF CASSADIAN DIPLOMATIC TIES It is the directive of the principles of the Doctrine of Enlightenment and those of Proletarian Internationalism that all states seek to maintain duly uphold proper diplomatic ties whenever possible, through whatever storms may blow at the unbreakable bonds of co-operation. Despite this, there are instances whereupon certain states must seek to take a stand against wanton acts which violate certain standards for international conduct. To this end, it is the necessary consequence that such international bonds of brotherhood resultantly manifest themselves as shackles, restricting the civilised world to a hindered attempt at valiantly striding forth, despite the lumbering hulks it has been tied to. Under such circumstances, it is necessary for these shackles to be broken and for honorable states to progress unfettered once more. The most recent instance of this has proven itself in the form of Cassadia. Already showing signs of being long underway on its journey down the path of sin and reaction, it has become evident that such a country, in recent events, cannot be trusted as a contemporary of the People's Federation of Reinkalistan. While, of course, it is the desire of the P.F.R. that all states follow suit - and indeed we do encourage such action - we will not seek to imperialistically assert our will over our international contemporaries. However, with the reality making itself evident that, if all evidence is to be believed, Cassadia is responsible for the death of the innocent Adlopovna Gazgireyeva, the P.F.R. will be cutting off all diplomatic ties to Cassadia; henceforth, it is not recognised as a sovereign entity by the Exterior Commissariat. That is all. Ancestral blessings upon you all.

[Qassadia]

Cassadia
Mobilization Operations

At the Department of Defense, large displays that took up half of the enormous walls they were mounted on showed layers of tables of organization and equipment were confirmed, operational orders for supplies, logistics, and the movement and transport of thousands upon thousands of men were about to begin. Both paper and a computer and over phones. This was fairly straightforward. In practice it meant often interrupting regular training exercises, halting the commencement of other orders, re-routing supply orders to units that would need them for resupply, and shuffling units, ships, and planes around. General Markov felt his blood pressure rise up badly because of it but grimly pushed on. Some junior officers were cursed so foully they wept when they messed things up, resulting in further piles of additional paperwork and physical bottlenecks.

For not since the Cassado-Albarazil war and the Millenium Conflict had so many Cassadian personnel and vehicles moved at once with a purpose like this, and yet the General Staff of the Central Armed Forces Command had to once again, gather their strength to commit themselves like they have done so last time, 20 years ago. However, they were blessed in certain areas. Most of them had been baptized by the flames of war, having had their knuckles hardened in the stresses of warfare that reeled in on them which forced them to steel and sharpen their senses and cool at the face of the storms of war that so occasionally threw itself at them. They knew how to delegate, how to eliminate, how to side-step issues. Because of this, they began seeing it all as an opportunity to learn in the field and develop stratagems.

Suffice it to say, at this stage, it still was mostly on paper and computer. Little was said to anyone; security was kept at the height possible. None of the troops were really told where they were going yet lest they gossip, so many of them had heard that they were conducting support of COIN exercises. Soldiers yawning as they got onto trains or trucks, onto planes, or began loading up equipment and receiving loads of ammunition, BDUs, rations, medkits, and so on for the most part had no idea what was even going on. Nor did sailors fuel up vessels, doing equipment checks, and loading up missile and auto-cannon racks; nor did Air Force personnel testing planes' readiness and being ordered to make sure that ground support units were prepared for transport. "In case of Anarchist attack," they were warned, "So take this damned seriously."

Furthermore, embassies of countries, especially of countries outside of Krillin who still had retained their foreign missions into the country for various reasons, would have picked up the news on these developments of troop movements being organized for their respective deployments to said training grounds, or the full activation of units, motorized and mechanized infantry or armored formations that were getting ready to be loaded onto trains or air lifters. The increased signature of Air Force planes increasing their combat air patrols, both in their endurance and quantity of planes involved in those maneuvers. Furthermore, was the positioning of two aircraft carrier strike groups, the ''Prisyan'' and ''Tervel'', that were ordered to re-route their course towards the South Sche'gori Sea.

Many other signs characterized the heightened state that the country had found itself. Some that were more starkly clear than others, much like night and day. The ones less discreet being the increased presence of the Militsiya, the Holy Kingdom's regular law enforcement, the usually already militarized police sported more gear and powerful weaponry than usual, which were often relegated only for police stings, crackdowns and the periodic riots that occasionally broke out between football fans of different soccer teams. Most stark were the body armor, the ballistic vests, and helmets, all of which in their quality and newer models were much better compared to what an average conscript would be issued. There was also the sight of high-powered weaponry such as highly modified G3s, MP5s, or AR-15 platform rifles slung in front of them that they leisurely handled to rest slightly against their plate carriers.

The National Guard 'Civic Protections' units were also out in force, patrolling in pairs of two, three, four, or five at most. Like their colleagues in the Militsiya, they were too ordered out on the street, either driving around in their own police cruisers or Bearcat-type armored vehicles through the streets of Cassadia's main cities and capital including in many of the more significant provincial cities, but with a lesser degree on the latter - after all, they had dedicated specialized units and task forces created to snuff out potential be it real or imagined Abolitionist Army members or cells; and as of late, the general rate of arrests had increased, even if these arrests more often than not, apprehended suspects that turned out to not be actual subversives or terrorists that they were looking for. Still in such circumstances, even with the rough statistics. Such crackdowns and arrests were bound to have uncovered individuals who were, in reality, actual subversives or asocial criminal elements that Cassadia's security services were always on the lookout for.

So, for the next several months, this picture would be more than regular in public spaces like parks, malls, train stations, metro stops, bus stations, and the main streets all around so many cities across Cassadia.

Whether they did random searches through baggage, rucksacks, and bags that random bystanders carried, to checking their personal ID's and papers. Many of the freeborn subjects did not find any issues since the Crown's men and the occasional woman in uniform, were there to keep them safe from the discord of lawlessness, from terrorism and seldom but extremely violent terrorist attacks that the Abolitionist Army plotted and carried out on occasion, followed by elaborate stings and counter-terrorist actions and manhunts that brought justice to such disgusting godless malcontents, more often than not.

Surveillance measures had also been stepped up, mainly by ''manually'' snooping of persons of interests into their text messages or eavesdropping on phonecall conversations that recorded and stored every bit of mundane or notable piece of a text chat or word from the persons that were of interest to the GRB and law-enforcement investigative bodies such as the Royal Bureau of Investigation. That was on top of the mass surveillance system that Cassadia had built over the last twenty-five years to monitor the population, recording and storing their every conversation and general thoughts every time they sent a text message, or did a phone call, or expressed their opinion over the Kingdom's intranet web. The methods and technology becoming more advanced with the ushering of the digital information age and the pioneering of Ai, which eased the workload of the Holy Kingdom's security services.

There was a reason why actual self-aware dissident subversives and Abolitionist Army members stayed far away from Cassadia's version of the internet. Or became hermits who lived off the land deep into the woods in the western part of the country or up in the mountain, because even when one was carrying their phone. The GRB could still track them and zero-in on their geographical location.

Many of Cassadia's enemies found this so the hard way.

[The Union of British North America]

OOC: The NAU has withdrawn, but has been replaced by the Republic of Emmeria (Emmerio).

[New Visayan Islands]

OOC: Edit made per this post. Also, typos everywhere! Also, just remembered: Aquino-Magnitsky was first drafted in 2019.

MG Desmond C. Ilano, VCA (Ret.)
Visayan Embassy to the Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth, 103 Royal Avenue, Aragon, District of Corazon, Palmyrion
January 8th, AD 2021
1043 PHT

Desmond had the files handy. having received them before the Visayan Mission was sent out--COVID-19 protocols demanded that the Mission be quarantined pending negative result all around; while some would judge it as ultimately unnecessary, seeing as the last active COVID-19 cases were discharged on April of 2020 due to recovery, maintaining the Visayan Bubble, as it were, was something everyone had to take seriously. The Visayan Ambassador to Palmyrion reviewed the files containing what little the Confederation knew about Cassadia and her officials. Among those files was a physical copy of the executive order enrolling the Union of Cassadian National Legions in the Aquino-Magnitsky List of Select Nationals, among others to that effect. The List was made as part of a sanctions regimen established to deny trade with egregious human rights violators, kleptocrats, and the like under the Ninoy Aquino-Sergei Magnitsky Global Rule of Law and Human Rights Accountability Act of 2019. The executive order had the express signature of both the President and the Secretary of Finance; while functionally redundant owing to the inclusion of the Cassadian Crown Government in the Amistad List of Known Slaver Entities (and having commanded a division of Visayan soldiers assigned to the Galadon Campaign until recently, he knew what that meant), the intent was clear: a thorough dive would have to be done for businesses wishing to deal with the Confederation in order to rule out any connection to persons tied to the UCNL, among them a man by the name of Punchev Lukov.
From what little the Confederation knew Lukov was the man in charge of the UCNL when he admitted to being party to a pogrom that saw the death of 3117 Jews, with the implication that he had been involved in both similar incidents and the enforcement of an institutional antisemitism that rankled the former general. Lukov's influence seemed to be disproportionally high for someone whose noble title was perhaps the most junior, and his penchant for using neo-Nazi symbols and motifs led many Visayan officials to the conclusion that "this flat-out neo-Nazi fuck is most likely the power behind the Cassadian throne, the Man behind the Woman, as it were," in the words of Jonathan Lee, Desmond's Deputy Chief of Mission. "I would actually be pleased to send that fucker to burn in the deepest pits of Hell myself," Jonathan would add during the meeting, to the retort of "Get in line" from George Andrew Larida, the Science Attaché.
"Anyway," Larida then said, "how would you like to do this? We have what little we know of Cassadia and its leadership ready for sending, and I suspect an official letter would do our hosts just fine."
"It would," Desmond replied. Thus what the Visayans knew were sent by diplomatic pouch to the Palmyrian Department of State Affairs. Inside was a letter from Desmond, to be read before opening the contents.

To: The Department of State Affairs of the Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth
From: The Visayan Ambassador to the Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth
Re: Visayan information on Cassadia

Honorable Secretary,

I wish you good cheer on this New Year, especially in these trying times where the world is beset by unrest and plague alike.

The contents of this diplomatic pouch sum up what the Confederation knows of Cassadia, a nation we categorically refuse to acknowledge diplomatic recognition of owing to the fact that as a slaver state, it is considered hostis humani generis. As we both know, owing to our shared ties in the Amistad Declaration and the Coalition Against Program 10, such states could never be considered legitimate under international law, instead being considered enemies of all mankind shorn of all but the most basic of legal protections. You will find in this pouch the following items:

• A copy of the Confederation's Magnitsky legislation, the Aquino-Magnitsky Act, to provide context for the next item;
• The executive order enrolling the Union of Cassadian National Legions under the Aquino-Magnitsky List of Select Nationals, a list of parties subject to the sanctions provided under the above law;
• A list of major Cassadian personalities known to the Confederation (with special emphasis on Punchev Lukov) indicating whatever sanctions may apply to them in addition to those known associates of the UCNL; and
• Dossiers on abovementioned personalities.

I hope these will help in formulating a response that best fits this recent act.

SIncerely,
(Sgd.)
MG Desmond Ilano, VCA (Ret.)
Visayan Ambassador to the Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth

[Palmyrion]

San Ramon AFB, Camp Lorenzo San Carlos
GHQ Armed Forces of Palmyrion, Aragon, D.C., Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth
3 January 20210832H
Agent Third Class Helen “Park” Dacera
Recommended Listening: Sean Murray - Pentagon

San Ramon AFB. The AFB, itself situated in the GHQ AFP complex, was home to two fighter wings, a bomber wing, and a composite support wing, all intended for the defence of the District of Corazon, with other airfields and air defence sites scattered around the Province of Buendia forming an aerospace defence shield over the province, and with it the District of Corazon. The airfield was itself busy, with routine having little change (if ever) from its usual routine of transporting supplies to and fro, with the addition of regular combat air patrols in light of the assassination of a Cassadian dissident and LGBT activist in the Royal Commonwealth - especially when the Commonwealth Security Council declared the terror act as an act of war against the Royal Commonwealth (and it technically was, considering how Palmyrion was an Amistad Declaration signatory, which said that all signatories are now in a state of bellum aeterna against slaver nations.

Thus when news of the assassination of a Cassadian dissident in Palmyrion found itself on Marshite, Romandean, and Lauzannian doorsteps, all three nations pitched in their intelligence forces to help Palmyrion figure out the culprit (in reality prove Cassadian culpability in the terrorist act), and root out Cassadian GRB assets in the Royal Commonwealth.

One among the CID entourage meeting up with the Lauzannean team was Agent Third Class Helen “Park” Dacera, a relatively young 30-year-old CID agent, with a B.Sc. Computer and Information Sciences degree from CMA General Santos, and a M.Sc. in Data Science from Ateneo de Aragon, a Jesuit university in Quezon City, D.C. While the CID had no shortage of Catholics and Marshites, she was one of the few who had close linkages with Societas Iesu (linkages which she formed starting from her days in CMA GenSan and cultivated further in her time in Ateneo de Aragon), and with it the religious portion of the world’s backstage and undercurrents. And now, she was assigned as the case officer for the assassination - primarily for her expertise in computers and data science.

”Good morning. Lauzannean intelligence, I presume?” Park asked the Lauzannian entourage as they approached her, while glancing every now and then at the dossier given to her. The dossier contained basic details of the Lauzannian entourage...and a dog. The dog had to be a Lauzannean Wolfdog according to the files; how nice of them to have brought a K-9 unit. A dog will serve its purpose here, for sure.

The leader of the group nodded, an unlit cigarette in his mouth as he turned to face the head of the host unit
“The very same. I’m True Faith, this is Elegia.” He first pointed at himself, and then at the younger blonde lady just at his side. True Faith was a gaunt man, who looked sleepless but still sharp.
“And this is my backup. From left to right we have Knight, Mario, Can, Cowboy, and Sophie.” He pointed at each of the members of the team in turn, ending on the dog.
“I received a bit of information on you, but I believe you’re Special Agent Dacera?” True Faith asked, studying the woman for her reaction.


”Yes, I am.” Special Agent Park replied. ”But call me Park. That’s how I officially go around here.” she added. She had an official codename - Park - for when she needed to attend to official business, that is anything that doesn’t involve her personal life (and for someone who took up a personal vow of celibacy for her line of work, she had almost no love life to speak of).

“I see. So, what do you have for us so far?”

“I guess you know what just happened over the last 36 hours, True Faith.” Park replied. “So far our leads consist of footage of the perpetrators themselves, vehicle purchase records, an anomalous addition to our visa database, ISP logs, and claims that they’re company sales representatives for some sugar company in the Krillin region. And they’re not company sales representatives.” she added.

“I see. They exfiltrated by boat, if I read the report correctly.”

“Speaking of boat, the Navy reported an unknown submarine contact within hours of the assassination. Must have been their ride home.” Park remarked about the perpetrators’ exfiltration by boat. ”Acoustic signatures don’t match anything that’s around the region.”

True Faith seemed to think for a few seconds.
“See what intelligence reports you can get on likely actors. Such an exfil would rule out most mercenary groups, extremists and non-state actors. If you got the right acoustic frequency you can probably figure out what kind of submarine it is.”

”We’ve had the Navy analyse the acoustic records of the unknown contact, and they have yet to come up. But it has to be a submarine.” Park replied. ”Anyways, we have work to do back in San Miguel*, we can talk this out in the convoy.” she added.

*San Miguel: where GHQ Central Intelligence Directorate is located

“Any particular way you want us seated?” True Faith asked, looking at the convoy.

”You can take the sedans over there.” Park said, pointing to the two BMW M5s further from her. The convoy consisted of four M5s from the CID and four CV.102-4 MRAPs from Special Task Force “Peacemaker” of the Civil Defence Force, with the security detail consisting of an entire platoon of CDF troopers, and eight CID agents (Park included).

“Are we checking out the sites first?”

”I figure that’s a good way to start the day.” Park replied - time was gold, and they had to spend it wisely.

“Alright.” True Faith said, turning to his team. “Elegia, Cowboy, Mario, you take the rear one and head to the apartment with Sophie. Knight, Can, you take the front car and head on over to the docks with some of them, see what you can find out about the speedboat and the cars. Registration, types, anything you can find.”
“And yourself?” Elegia asked, to which True Faith turned back to Park.
“Would you mind taking me to Mrs. Gazgireyeva’s residence? I need a lay of the land as it happened.”

”Sure, True Faith.” Park replied ”I have a hunch that house has more bugs than a certain Polish video game.” she added.

“You’re probably correct. The type tends to be thorough when wiping someone off the face of the earth.” He smiled mysteriously, before looking to the Palmyrians
“So, do we need any more information, or is it time to set off?”

”Guess it’s time to set off.” Park said.

The agents would be met with hot drive-through meals from a local fast food chain - Joybee’s - which consisted of a simple meal: corned beef, fried rice, scrambled egg, a cup of coffee, and bottled mineral water. Additionally, given that they were working in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, surgical masks and face shields were available for use.

Each BMW M5 would be driven by one CID agent. M5-1 had Knight, Can, and two CID agents, while M5-2 had Elegia, Cowboy, Mario, and the dog Sophie with a CID agent as a driver. M5-3 had True Faith, Park, and two CID agents, while M5-4 had three CID agents.
”All Mike Fives, step on the gas.” Park radioed to the other BMW M5 drivers. The drivers would then be told by their passengers where they would be going, with their divergence point at a roundabout not far from Camp Lorenzo San Carlos.
“What’s the chances of this event leading to war?” True Faith asked, cigarette still unlit in his mouth.

”Palmyrion being an Amistad Declaration signatory is technically in a state of “bellum aeterna” against slavers - and that includes Cassadia.” Park said, without sugarcoating the gravity of the situation. ”We’re essentially on a tightrope here, and our investigative work will only flare things up - especially when we blow the lid off this whole mess and prove Cassadia’s culpability. So, I’d say tensions are running high - but they’re still running cold.” she added.

“I see.”

---

Gazgireyeva Residence, Sherman Residences
Aragon, D.C., Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth
3 January 2021 0935H
Special Agent 5 Helen “Park” Dacera

The view in their car transitioned from high-rise, high-density real estate (typical of the city centre), and soon into low-density high-priced residential real estate still in Palmyrion’s metropolitan proper. Sherman Residences sat at the other side of the Aragon River opposite to a verdant esplanade, the esplanade serving to create a verdant viewshed from Sherman Residences, with the riverbank next to Sherman Residences consisting of a small, verdant paved footwalk decorated with lush greenery. These days, the verdant landscape was eerily silent, as people stayed in their houses due to the COVID-19 related community quarantines - but this was not the case for the Gazgireyeva residence, as the wider public paid tribute to the political dissident with flowers, letters, and gifts.

Park and True Faith, alongside one of the CDF MRAPs, arrived at the Gazgireyeva residence, and was met with a crowd clad with face shields and surgical masks near a makeshift memorial for the assassinated dissident and her family. Local PNP and CDF units were providing security, alongside a local crime scene unit wearing full PPE to avoid contaminating the residence as they investigated the residence for any sign of bugging and forced entry by anyone involved in the assassination case.

True Faith took in the scene. Gone was the cigarette, only the mask as he looked at every detail, the scenery, the layout of the street, and the oil stains where the van once sat, waiting for it’s daily commute.

“The family only had one car?” True Faith looked to Park, among the gathering of people.

”Hmm, the perps had a Hyundai Le Fonte and a Citroen SpaceTourer. Gazgireyeva's car was a Ford Focus. Maybe the SpaceTourer has an oil leak, but the Le Fonte doesn’t.” Park said, as she looked at the spot where the perpetrators' cars were parked on the day of the assassination.

Park presented her ID to the local police and CDF detachment when they stopped her at the entrance to the residence, at which point the police and CDF detachment let her and True Faith in - but not before giving them gloves with which to work, on top of the surgical mask and face shield.

“Can you get me some clear air on their driveway? I wanna look closer.” True Faith asked, taking the mask off and preparing to light his cigarette.

“Smokes can wait later.” Park replied. “We can’t risk contaminating the crime scene.” she added.

He paused on lighting up, before putting the lighter away and looking at the spot where the Ford Focus used to sit. The usual oil stains present from wear and tear of gaskets and hoses were present, but even among everyone else, he noticed something… off. Squinting closer, he saw it between the tiles, squatting down and picking up two round cylinders of rubber. They were small gauge, only a cm or so across from edge to edge, but the smoothness of the cut was definitely something that alerted him.
“Special Agent Park, I take it Mrs. Gazgireyeva never did her own electrical work?” He called, looking back to his current compatriot to show her the two pieces of insulation.

”Nah, she doesn’t.” Park replied.

“So it stands to reason that someone cut these that wasn’t Mrs. Gazgireyeva. Likely done when the family was either asleep or somewhere else. Can you acquire a Focus as close to theirs as possible, find out where these wires were? I have a theory, unless you want to hear it now.”

”I’m not an expert in cars, aside from probably how to code and hack one, but lemme hear your theory.” Park replied.

“Say you wanted to set a carbomb off. You need everything to go boom, plus you need an electric current. Most efficient way is to splice your positive into the starter motor and ground it on the car’s chassis, like most of the electrics on the car. Key goes in, turn it to ignition, boom. This is a bit too small to be one, although I’d have to see for sure. But I suspect they tried to rig this to the starter in the middle of the night and missed, either doing everything by feel or under very limited vision. This would mean that Plan A failed, so what they did was Plan B.”
True Faith stood up, looking down the street at the odd car parked here and there.
“You’d want to be close enough to visually confirm it’s your target, but far enough away you don’t arouse suspicion. Probably parked in here in the early morning, both of them. Plan A is to make it go boom here, B is to follow it and remote-detonate it, Plan C is the good old fashioned method.”

“And there has to be some remote detonation mechanism attached to the car bomb. The most common detonator you’d have…” Park said, as she paused to gather her thoughts for a bit, “..is a cell phone. Most likely a burner.”

“Not much evidence we’d find of that now, seeing as that would be from a call with no audio. But it does let us piece together a rough path that they must have taken, at what time, and how they intended to get to the docks. Not to mention, it shows how committed to the idea they were, probably willing to shoot the kids too. Actually, do you have footage of them getting on the boat and leaving?”

“Port police and Maritime CDF reported a speedboat departing a few moments after the cars went off at the port - and they’ve got the footage for that.” Park replied.

“What kind of weaponry did they have? Handguns, carbines? Something like a Krinkov would get the job done and be concealable enough for a car. Other gear, too.”

“If we are to base on what we know of Cassadian standard issue gear, I’d expect it to be…” Park said, while pausing to get a quick recall of Cassadian standard issue gear, especially standard issue firearms, “..a G3. A short barreled G3, most likely.” she added.

True Faith looked up at Park with eyebrows raised, still in his squat
“You mean to tell me they were going to conduct an assassination mission with a G3?”

“Well, if attempting to detonate the car doesn’t work, then you’re going to have to do it mechanically. Riddling them with 7.62 NATO from a short-barrel G3 Kilo would do the trick.” Park replied.

“They’re almost as long as a Krinkov is with the stock extended. In any case, Cassadian nationals on fake visas with Cassadian standard issue guns, killing off a Cassadian dissident is too much coincidence for me to like. You said they escaped by submarine, yes?”

“Yes. Oh - and regarding the G3 Kilo, the shortest you can get that you can store in your van would be the G3KA4 with a retracting stock. You can fire with the stock retracted, recoil be damned, accuracy be damned, but it doesn't matter because you’re up close and personal - but I digress.” Park said, having been carried over with discussing what the Cassadians would have used to mechanically carry out the hit. “The submarine contact vaguely sounds like an L.A.-class, according to the Naval Intelligence. L.A., as in L.A., California.”

“I’ve shot a G3KA4 before, firing without a stock is an amateur move, and I doubt these men are amateurs.” He does spend a few seconds thinking on the implications.
“Nuke sub, long endurance. From here to Krillin would be what, one, two stops? As I understand it, the Cassadians have quite a few L.A. subs on inventory.”

“Sounds like it, True Faith. And what we know of Cassadian smuggling and espionage networks makes less surprising the fact that a nation embargoed and sanctioned to the hilt has a fleet of L.A. subs.” Park said. “Get blueprints through espionage and black market sources, build them in your dockyards, which themselves would be modified according to even more blueprints gained by even more black market purchase and technological espionage.” she additionally remarked.

True Faith shook his head.
“I’ve read the briefing on Cassadia, they were staunchly anti-communist and still are. Western-aligned nations tended to throw gear at them in order to curry favour, hence a Slavic country sporting almost all Western gear. Considering L.A subs are widely built, I can easily see them being given to Cassadia if things ever did kick off. And I know that’s the case, because the same happened to Lauzanne in the 80’s.”

“That reminds me of a local superstition: pagpag.” Park replied, alluding to a local superstition about attending a funeral. “You don’t just go straight home after attending a wake, you gotta spend some time elsewhere to confuse any following spirits.” she added, and at this point she could sense the confusion simmering in her Lauzannian counterpart. “If things go hot they won’t just park it home - if they want the international community off their arses they’d pagpag, shake the dust off, that sub to some other nation.” she added further, if to address any potential confusion in True Faith.

“I don’t think that’s what they’ll go for. They’re going to deflect either way, shift responsibility, lie and deceive. It’s bad enough to be considered a repressive country by any stretch, but one that actively murders other countries’ nationals, is pretty heinous. Which is why the devil will be in the details. Cassadian nationals, Cassadian gear, vehicles registered to Cassadians, cyberattacks with Cassadian IP’s, it’ll pile on. They’ll wriggle, but there’s only so much one can do when the only party that benefits is them. Mind showing me the site of the bombing?” True Faith asked, standing up and handing the snipped pieces of wire insulation to Park “Don’t forget to get these checked, I want to know where they wired this bomb to.”

“Alright, I guess that’s where we are headed next." Park said, signaling to a crime scene unit operative to put the snipped pieces of wire insulation in an evidence bag. “CSU, pakilagay nga ito sa evidence bag.” (CSU, put this in an evidence bag.) she said after getting the attention of a CSU operative, who replied with a succinct “Yes, ma’am.” before going to the CSU post for an evidence bag wherein the snipped wire insulation would be placed. The CSU operative turned to Park, asking if she needed it. “Kailangan niyo ba ito, ma’am?” (Do you need this, ma’am?) “Malay ko mas kinakailangan ito ng CID.” (I feel the CID needs this more.)

“Sa inyo lang muna iyan. Suriin niyo iyan ng mabuti. Insulasyon yan ng electrical wiring.” (That’s yours for now. Inspect that carefully - that’s electrical wiring insulation). Park replied. The CSU operative, after replying “Yes ma’am”, thought for a while why the agent would have an interest in wire insulation snippings - but it didn’t take long to get to him why; if someone wanted to plant a bomb in the car, wired to the ignition system, they would surely snip and join a few wires here and there.

Park turned to True Faith. “True Faith, speaking of sneaking in at the dead of night to plant a bomb at the underside of a Ford Focus, it would be nice if we get evidence of any sneaky entry.” she said.

True Faith then looked around at the street, up and down. He was thinking, taking in the details of the buildings.
“This is a nice neighborhood, I imagine people around here have security cameras.” He hinted.

“And this house will have its own set of CCTV cams as well.” Park replied.

“Well, I suppose your boys should get to work on that then. But for us, I want to check out the bomb site.”

“I figured as much. The crime scene unit can retrieve CCTV records of this house, and retrieve security camera footage from the neighbours. If anything, we can get going.” Park replied.

“Better get cracking with the neighbours, although I’m sure they’ll be sympathetic seeing as one of the families they live with got murdered.” True Faith said, before setting off for the M5 again, dropping the gloves and mask on the way out. “They definitely would, but that’s up to the CSU to figure it out. Anyways, let’s get going.” Park replied, afterwards setting off for the M5 - but not before disposing of her gloves in the CSU’s trash bin and sharing a few words with the crime scene unit about the case.

“Maghanap kayo ng sinyales ng forced entry, tapos kumuha na rin kayo ng security cam footage. Maghanap din kayo ng eavesdropping equipment na maaaring nilagay ng mga suspect. Maliwanag ba?” (Look for signs of forced entry, and retrieve security cam footage as well. Also look for eavesdropping equipment that the suspects may have installed. Clear?) Park said to the CSU leader, to which the CSU leader replied with a succinct “Yes ma’am.”

Park turned to True Faith, saying afterwards “Let’s go” while setting off for the M5.

True faith was waiting for her, leaning on the modern car with the unlit cigarette somehow remaining after all these hours of work, with zero opportunities to light it up. Park could clearly see he was a tired man, pale and gaunt to boot, but his eyes could pierce a tank’s armour. With Park arriving, he opened the door and got in, but it was clear he was still thinking. A man like that never stops thinking.

“I guess you can light it up now—” Park said to True Faith, already eagerly waiting for the opportunity to smoke a cigarette. “—but keep the windows open.” she added.

True Faith looked to her, before pulling the packet out of his pocket and offering one to her. The packet itself was in pretty good nick, but clearly only had a handful missing. “I don’t smoke, sorry.” she responded, though in her youth she was an avid social smoker before going cold turkey after a fit of pneumonia, and even in her mid 20s had tried vape but decided not to make a habit out of it. Park afterwards commanded for the driver to drive them to the site of the assassination.

True Faith then wordlessly returned the packet under his suit jacket, only slightly exposing the handgun that sat under his right armpit.
“Tell me, Park. You know Palmyrion better than me, seeing as I’ve only read a few files here and there, and gotten the testimony from some of the E-Warfare and SIGINT guys who worked with you. Do you totally believe that Cassadia carried out the attack?” He asked, rolling the window down before finally lighting up the cigarette, taking a deep inhale before breathing the smoke right out the window with practiced precision.

Park inhaled deeply, before sighing in deep thought. After a few moments, she replied: “Too many coincidences, too many roads leading to Rome to be false, but at the same time it looks too good to be true.”
“Who else could it be?” True Faith then gazed right at Park, scrutinising her.
“If it’s not Cassadia, then I don’t know who. Cui bono?” Park replied.
“If it is Cassadia, what should happen to them?” True Faith asked back.

“If Cassadia’s culpability is proven, I’d bet all my nine lives you’d have everyone crying for blood in no time.” Park answered.
“Even if that could spill more Palmyrian blood than Cassadian?”

“Palmyrion, in such a hypothetical war, won’t be going alone; the rest of the Union would join in on the dogpile. Holy Marsh and Romandeos, to name two. The Union combined far outnumbers the Cassadians by multiple times in terms of manpower. At the same time we can’t just rush in thinking we’re invincible, because we aren’t.”

“And what do you know of Cassadian arms, training and vehicles?”

“They’re not second rate, for sure.” Park said. “In terms of equipment, the Cassadian royal military is a formidable fighting force, even if their equipment may have to do a better job of keeping up with the times. When it comes to training and motivation to fight, remember that their bulk is made of conscripts, and I’m not expecting much from conscripts. Even if we are about to field our own.” she added. “The Romani-Mar’si Union can and does field better-trained, better-equipped, and better-motivated fighting men and women in larger quantities, but at the same time we are not one to be overconfident.”

“Plus you need to fly everything a very long way. But I see you’re a committed woman.”

“Thanks...for the compliment, True Faith. I see you’re a man of honour and willpower as well.” Park replied, smiling.

---

3 January 2021
GHQ Department of National Defence
Camp Lorenzo San Carlos, Aragon, D.C.
Royal Palmyrian Commonwealth
Recommended Listening: Valorant Theme (1 Hour)

COMM. #8867K1
CASE OFFICER: M. "KEYS" CASTANEDA CID-SOG
WARNING! S.C.L. ALPHA BLACK REQUIRED FOR ACCESS

_SA5 MARION "KEYS" CASTANEDA_
_ACCESS CODE: MARVINSROOM_

I. RATIONALE
On January 2, 2021, Cassadian dissident and LGBT activist Adlopovna Gazgireyeva was assassinated by means of a car bomb in downtown Aragon, D.C. Investigation by the Palmyrian Intelligence Community has put certainty into suspicions of Cassadia’s involvement in the assassination, sparking outcry and questions about the integrity of Palmyrion’s counter-intelligence apparatus.

Task Force – Valorant is to be formed specifically to counter the threat posed by the Cassadian General Reconnaissance Bureau and the Union of Cassadian National Legions in Palmyrion and the region. TF-VALORANT shall be activated starting 15 January 2021, and will commence operations afterwards.

II. Members
ALFA TEAM (4 MEMBERS) - ARMY
CPT CARLOS ESTEBAN MONTERO - 102SFR(A) – CALLSIGN “BREACH”
SGT EMERSON GERALD CUSTODIO - 101SRR – CALLSIGN “BRIMSTONE”
CPL NATHANIEL JOHN MURO - 103SFR(A) - CALLSIGN “CYPHER”
PFC REEZA MAE SORRONDA - 104SFR(A) – CALLSIGN “KILLJOY”
BRAVO TEAM (4 MEMBERS) – NAVY
ENS VICTOR SAMUEL TOBON - 1SEAL – CALLSIGN “OMEN”
CPO WYNONA MARGARETTE DADO - DEVCORPS – CALLSIGN “SAGE”
PO2 SERAFIN VALENZUELA - 2SEAL – CALLSIGN “PHOENIX”
PO3 ALEXANDER JOHN MAGDALO – DEVCORPS - CALLSIGN “SOVA”

CHARLIE TEAM (4 MEMBERS) - MARINE CORPS
1LT JOHN PAUL DUMIGPE - 1FRR – CALLSIGN “JETT”
SSG JESSE ANDREW MACADANGDANG - 2FRR – CALLSIGN “SKYE”
CPL JOHN CHRISTIAN RENTORIA - 3FRR – CALLSIGN “VIPER”
PFC IAARON ELBA – 4FRR - CALLSIGN “RAZE”

DELTA TEAM (4 MEMBERS) – CID-SOG
SA5 [REDACTED] – CALLSIGN “PARK” - PRIMARY HANDLER
SA2 [REDACTED] – CALLSIGN “ASTRA” - SECONDARY HANDLER
AG3 [REDACTED] – CALLSIGN “YORU”
AG1 [REDACTED] – CALLSIGN “REYNA”

TF-VALORANT will be given authority to acquire more members as time passes, should the need arise.

[Bolrieg]

While for the time being the Crown's response was to remain silent until further diplomatic relations, however when interview on the recent events the leaders of the political parties all gave their statements on the matter.

Julipine Kladnov

""Why? What is there to condemn about this act? The way I see it the Cassadian government was completely justified in carrying out their actions. This agitator as well as performing the disgusting act of homosexuality alongside indoctrinating children into that revolting lifestyle. She was also a member of Homofront and has called for bombings of innocent families, because she hates the family and wants to see dead parents. If I was in the same position I would have done the exact same thing. However, I would have prefered it if the bomb went off within the city's faggot 'community' that way the Empress will be doing the shithole state of Palmyrion a favour. Maybe make it a nicer place to live, as you well know faggots drive down property prices while increasing rents, they also increase the crime rate as not only do they know gayness is a crime they also believe they can do as much crime as they want. From what I've heard the Palmyrion wants to make it law that everyone gives away all their money to the nearest gay, their government has been taken over by Homofront. I believe we should stand by the Cassadians."

Aldeas Dfragre

(As usual he was completely drunk during this while still having a glass of whiskey in his hand) "Well as you know, the explosion killed.. That wasn't very nice, what did she do but complain that Cassadian government is stupid??? Well they are stupid.. they prefer to waste time killing people who don't like them as opposed to slashing state spending... This is also stupid as the government should stay out of everything and let people do whatever they want. The Empress should instead drink lots of drink and smoke lots of drugs, I do this and I am fine. As for the whole homosexuality stuff, who cares. So what if it's a choice? Let them make that choice, let them buy rainbow stuff and make money off it. Also I hear about all this Homofront stuff, just wondering if they would be as... about if people didn't make them explode so much? All Ito say about this is bad... Also wondering if any Cassadian likes to drink? I like drink and we can drink with each other."

Uljen Nulvul

"What is the point to all this exactly? The way I see it only the two nations involved in this incident Cassadia and Palmyrion, as it is a private dispute between them. As for the incident itself as someone who believes things should be done neatly and properly I condemn the sloppiness of their work, they had one target and they could have killed her without anybody knowing. Maybe even made it look like an accident but instead they wanted to show off and act like how the Jalnatzic would act in this situation, no planning, no organisation, not even anything beyond the act itself. Their entire plan seems to me little more than 'make things go boom'. I will say no more on this as His Grand Majesty is working on relations and I won't sabotage it, I will also offer support if any nation is idiotic enough to invade over this."

[Emmerio]

WARNING: Mature Themes

Novusmeria District, Gracemeria City, Gracemeria Prefecture, Republic of Emmeria
Republic of Emmeria Capitol Building, Chamber of Deputies
5 days ago

The Chamber of Deputies of the Republic of Emmeria, somewhat unusually but with this ongoing theme of debate one could expect it, was in a state of great excitement, over the apparent assassination of the Cassadian dissident and defector, former judge Adloprovna Gazgireyeva. The Prime Minister, Tereza Majo, member of the Liberal Party and Deputy for Ortara, was sitting on the Government row of seats to the Speaker's right, listening intently to her fellow Liberal, backbencher, and Deputy for Vitoze Central, Josefino de la Ĝardenoj, who was calling for increased sanctions on the Cassadian government from the Government of Emmeria and calling for the President of the Republic to consider military options, as that falls under presidential powers. "...Yet another reason, Sinjoro Prezidanto de la Ĉambro de Deputitoj, that we must advise for harsher measures to compel these slavers to halt their ways and heed international pressure," concluded the Deputy for Vitoze Central.

"The Prime Minister," bellowed Roberto Fico, the President of the Chamber of Deputies, Liberal, and Deputy for Novusmeria West, after shouting for order several times. The mood of the crowd was that there should be more done to the slaver nation of Cassadia. The People's Coalition party leader, Veronika Sankta-Jakobo of Mante, was almost at the point of calling for blood, though how to call for it, no one could tell. The Chamber President reminded her, gently, of the rules on unparliamentary language, but the Leader of the People's Coalition's rage was not unjustfied--her own wife, before they got married, was accosted in the most horrifying way by self-righteous bigot in an attempt to "correct" her from her sexual orientation, but she survived and got away to contact police. The perpetrator was executed for it as that was a capital crime with aggravating circumstances--a hanging matter. The Leader of the People's Coalition composed herself but maintained her demand for harsh sanctions and other non-military options against the Cassies.

Among the personal reasons for some Members of the Chamber of Deputies, there were other reasons of why the Liberal Party, Conservative Union for the Republic, People's Coalition, and Native Anean Party caucuses were in an uproar over the recent Cassadian episode: alleged state-sponsored terrorism by the Cassies against a defector in another country, a high-profile attack of a couple primarily defined by their status of being a sexual minority (such status was protected by the Republic's statutes and their marriage would be recognized by the national government), that it was allegedly done by their ghostly yet highly effective security apparatus, the General Reconaissance Bureau (Emmerians dislike heavily secret police forces), and finally and overarchingly that Cassadia was a slaver state and the Republic was a signatory of the Amistad Declaration, and thus was obligated as well as willing volunteering to combat this slaver state.

But for the last several months such combat has been relegated to sanctions, intelligence-gathering, and making contacts with local resistance groups as to how to assist them. So far, not much pressure for change aside from small but still significant economic woes for the Cassadians. Intelligence has been limited, given the vast securocracy, but linguistically and culturally it reminds the North Americans of the Russians, so some progress has been made if little. The Cassies are pushed more and more towards their allies and other methods to acquire monies and important goods, but with a growing coalition of nations, more pressure will be brought to bear. Armed conflict might come about, most likely unwillingly for all involved.

Tereza Majo stood up, made a short walk to the podium in front of the Government bench, and began her argument: "Mr. President, I agree that the apparent circumstances and evidence around the deaths of Mrs. Gazgireyeva and her wife and children all do point to the Cassadian government, and even though they may deny it, and it may be possible that it could have been a rogue unit or individual who did all this, the fact remains that our strategy at combatting the slaver nation needs to do more, and we need to do more for our allies. This affair is a wake-up call to us, as it seems the Cassadian government can and might attempt similar operations in Allied countries, and for different reasons. They might assassination prominent anti-slavery advocates, escaped slaves, and other dissidents. Collateral damage, intended or no, can happen, as it happened in this case, but might be a consequence they want, officially or unofficially? A consequence of fear in our populations? That no matter what they do, they can't stop Cassadia? I say we add fuel the fire and put their legs into it instead of their feet--we will increase sanctions and prosecute Cassadian officials and agents of their interests in our countries and those who aid their so called Crown-Government," concluded the Prime Minister.

With shouts of approval and the banging of desks and railing by hand to make clear of that sentiment, the Leader of the Emmerian Sovereignty Party, Stefano Brakoforta (Deputy for Mante Central), rose and the Chamber President, begrudgingly, let him. Leering and booing can be heard quite loudly from around the semi-circle arrangement of the main chamber, but the President called for order. The ESP is not only known for its anti-globalism, not only known for their right-wing views, but known for their alleged ties to the Emmeria First Movement, a dangerous right-wing terrorist group that has gone underground since the Vitoze Affair; the connections between the ESP and the EFM have not been established during court trials--too many good lawyers who are sympathetic and many ways to hide evidence and bodies. The Vitoze Affair of 1995, before the Ulysses Impact, was an incident that began as a weeks-long investigation into a death threat case of the Emmerian government delegation that was hashing out an autonomy agreement with the Khesed National Assembly government that wanted more freedom but avoid the costs of full independence, that uncovered a vast cabal and conspiracy to assassinate the President of the Republic on the day he was to arrive in the Vitoze. But as the Republic prosecuted the ESF to the fullest extent for that, it wasn't enough for when the ESF attacked a Gracemeria stadium with bombs in August 2001. That led to sweeping anti-terrorism legislation and the ESF going deep underground and haven't been heard since--likely due to arrests and prosecutions that are still happening to this day for the group and not just for the main perpetrators of the two great crimes of the turn of the century. While the legislation has been reformed from its more extremist language and demands at the time of passing, it can be harsh even in this day for traitors to the Republic.

Mr. Brakoforta walked to the podium reserved for the other minor parties. "Mr. President, my honorable friends, while state-sponsored terrorism, or terrorism of any kind," he began, with many Deputies rolling their eyes and the President sitting down in a fashion of mild annoyance, "the fact remains that this affair, and our whole strategy is wrong. It is wrong to compel, no matter how wrong, other nations to stop what they are doing. It flies in the face of realism and the idea of state sovereignty. While this nation should condemn terrorism and the murder of innocent bystanders," he said as he looked at the Leader of the People's Coalition; the Emmerian Sovereignty Party was not known for its social tolerance policies and he was glad a traitorous element was dealt with, "this adventure to overturn Cassadia with the construction of a great coalition is foolhardy and a waste of resources, resources and time that could be done to help those at home; I pray that my honorable friends of this body does not let idealism blind us to reality--diplomatic isolation and war would not be good for them or us," finished the ESP Leader. Grumbles and some booing and leering at Mr. Brakoforta as well as the other 8 members of the ESP caucus until the Chamber President felt that procedure was satisfied to call for a vote.

By mandate of the Constitution of 1945, the Chamber of Deputies were voting on a matter of confidence of the government on increased sanctions and other measures on Cassadia. With a solid and large majority, in fact so large that it was difficult getting all those in favor one one side of the chamber to make it look clear, the President of the Republic would have the backing to increase sanctions, call upon the Cassadian Crown-Government to cease slavery and serfdom and liberate its population, and for the Republic to work more with the growing coalition to keep putting pressure on the Cassies.

Tereza Majo picked up her binders and papers and walked with the Minister of External Affairs, Leader of the Native Anean Party, and Majority Leader of the Liberal-NAP Alliance, Dekano Foiro. "Tereza, I do think increasing the pressure after this will make the Cassies think twice from now on. While they can deny it was them, international perception is shifting against them. This was way too brazen to make us and our allies cower. I'll talk with Palmyrion's foreign minister and other Amistad signatories in putting together a more integrated, comprehensive pressure program, help Aragon with their investigation. I'll even go to the Reds with their Commissars, by God, if they willing to do something with us,"

"Thanks Dekano. This will help us and it will hurt them," said Tereza, as they left through a side entrance of the Capitol Building Chamber of Deputies Hall towards the PM's motorcade. They got in and sped away back to the Presidential Palace over in the Old City.

She had to talk with the Emmerian Agency on External Security and Intelligence (EAESI) on newer, bolder intelligence operations in Cassadia. The Director-General suggested several up and coming operatives for infiltrating Cassadia's spider web in the Krillin region. We'll see once I talk to the President, thought Tereza.

[Lauzanne]

Elegia took in the surroundings as they approached the scene of the apartment bombing. It was predictably low-income, but the tension was easily visible, even to her two compatriots in the back. Even Sophie was still and alert, looking around. As the car pulled up to the apartment, it was apparent that even at this distance the damage was apparent, but it was only when the three left the car into the press of people and CDF securing the site that the full damage was revealed.

The windows were blown out and scorched, and it was clear that it would have damaged the insides even more. Elegia even whistled.
"Would take a lot of boom to do that. Seems like our guys got a lot of shopping done." She commented, the CDF personnel letting them enter the restricted area.
"If they were professionals they wouldn't all buy it at one source." Mario added.
"Are they really that professional if they blow someone up in the middle of the morning? Professionals are quiet, focussed and not psychotic." Cowboy asked, causing the other two to nod.
"Probably to send a message, even if it gets them into hot water." Mario replied, causing Elegia to think as they took the stairs.
"No, he's right. This was sloppy. Eleven collaterals, even more injured in this apartment block and all leads pointing back to them. If they were smart they could have done it a myriad of ways, so this one was probably arrogance on their part." Elegia reasoned, before coming out onto the correct hallway. Even more CDF personnel in full gear, examining samples and taking photographs. Sophie was in front, sniffing at the air as Cowboy got close.
"Can ya smell something? Go get it!" Cowboy said, causing Sophie to go on ahead, rushing past a CDF man heading through the ruined door. Soon after, the three followed, to take in the whole scene.

The phrase of "It looks like a bomb went off in here" was both metaphorically and literally accurate. Silverware blasted into walls, everything was scorched, whatever remained of the furniture was in pieces and scattered onto the floor, and Sophie was barking at Cowboy. Elegia split off to find the source of the blast, leaving Mario to check with the apparent CDF leader.
"How's the other tenants?"
"Few injured, the rest are fine and staying with other people for the moment. Injured ones are at a hospital not far from here."
"Interviewed em?"
"Not yet, I believe we're going to be doing it today."
"Good, see what details you can get outta them."

Cowboy saw the thing Sophie was nudging, picking it up and noticing it was a bottle, or at least something that looked like a bottle. The label was blackened out, but this was probably a clue. Sophie got a little treat for her effort, as he handed the bottle to the nearest CDF man.
"Check this out, see what looks like it in stores?" Cowboy suggested. The CDF man nodded, taking the bottle in his gloved hands.
Cowboy kneeled to give Sophie a good petting, as Elegia stepped over to Cowboy.
"Two bedrooms, likely slept in shifts. Always one keeping guard, sometimes the other one goes out to get things." Elegia said, crouching down to see what Cowboy and Sophie were looking at.
"Found bottles of shit, likely what they're using for their bombs." Cowboy added, as Mario returned.
"Tenants got injured but no reported deaths yet, thank fuck. They're at a hospital nearby, the CDF is gonna go ask them questions."
"I reckon we should stick around for a few more hours, get as much as we can before heading back. Faith is gonna take hours, and the other two are probably going to have to chase up car shit." Mario suggested, Elegia nodding.
"Keep combing, boys. We got time."