Capital Protests (OPEN) (Character-ish RP)

[Mokastana]

OOC:
map
Long story short, there is a political rally of massive scale in the Capital of Mokastana, the Socialists plan on blockading the Capital building peacefully and preventing the recently elected Parliament from assuming power do the reasons I will mention. This is an open RP were you can play as anyone who would have a reason to be in my Capital during these events. How things turn will entirely depend on how the characters, aka you guys, interact with the story, it is possible to turn this into a riot, coup, or what have you, but you will have to do a really good job to convince me IC wise of such actions.

IC:

“To explain the political climate in such a country as Mokastana one must first understand the birth of such a country; born by revolution against the crown, sold into slavery by the imperial powers and finally left to its own devices to suffer in seclusion for more than half a century. Dictator after dictator, fascist or communist, president for life or Paternal Autocrat, each tried to build the small island nation into their preferred image, but the island was not capable of being tamed, even by its own masters. Civil wars broke the small island into separate city states, each fighting for control of various recourses, until twenty years ago did our island finally unify under a democratic-socialist flag. Various coups and regimes formed in the 5 or so years after that, but we had finally unified the Island. When the Fascists annexed El Norte, Mejico and Sur, it seemed that Mokastana was becoming the imperial power we had fought so hard to defeat. The Mejican Revolution is a note in history to that point. With the addition of Wellovia 12 years ago and Aqua Anu not five, we have formed a loose coalition government of states who find it better to stand together than alone. With Nicolas Villa’s modernization projects the Socialists once again came out the hero in turning Mokastana from a developing nation to a prosperous world power. The last 15 years has been calm and quiet, allowing Mokastana to enjoy the fruits of a stable government, even with the occasional retiring of Nicolas. However the National Parliament has been assuming more and more power, giving us the title of Federation over Confederation, despite the nations’ leaning towards the other, and with this diverse of a population it was only a matter of time before Federal Parliament finally turned in a direction away from the founding fathers.

The last 10 years or so has brought the rise of such parties as the Conservative and Liberal, pushing the People’s Party, Socialist Workers Party and even Liberators party into the background. Even now, the top three largest Parties are the People’s Party, the Liberals, followed by the Conservatives. 15 years ago your choices would have been the Socialists, the anarchists, or the middle ground, but nowadays as infrastructure grows, corporations regain power in Mokastana, the situation is changing, and as you will see, not many like that change.”

Two Weeks ago:

“In an unprecedented turn of events, the Socialist and left wing parties of Mokastana have finally lost their 50% margin in Parliament, losing the 50% margin in the Senate 2 years ago, the Left wing parties can finally no longer block anti-communist legislation. While the pro-capitalist parties still have yet to gain the 50% upper hand Parliament and the Senate will be in torn as this lack of centralized power takes its toll on the country.

Questions are beginning to arise if President Benito Vera of the Liberal Party, will be able to keep the peace in Mokastana as the tensions between Socialists and Capitalists rises.”

Today:
Mokastana City, Government Distinct, The Mokan Revolutionary Headquarters Building
-Socialist Worker’s Army(SWA) Headquarters

NOTE:

The SWA is considered to the father of the modern Mokan Army, started by farmers over 50 years ago this militia created the current rank system and guerilla tactics still used by Mokan Armed Forces. However despite the creation of a Democratic-Socialist State 20 years ago, the SWA leaders refused to let it become the official army, due to its membership. However many SWA officers did join the formal Mokan Army and trained new recruits, and the SWA was formally disbanded. It was recreated during the fascist government and a few divisions deserted to rejoin the SWA. Since then it has maintained its own standing army separate from the traditional Military. However many officers and soldiers do belong to both organizations and its leaders do maintain contact and good standing with traditional army leaders.

The SWA HQ was an impressive building, built 15 years ago after the final fascist government fell and the old confederacy was formed from the current Mokan States. This was its third reincarnation, the previous ones burned down by ‘enemies of the people’ during civil wars and the like. Inside the leaders of the SWA watched their monitors and radio traffic as two SWA companies were deployed to the Capital building to protect protesters. The act of sending armed security to protect socialist protesters was done more out of tradition than military action.

Weeks before the protest occurred was only in planning stages the SWA had requested and begged people not to bring firearms to the protest, they would anyways, but to ensure the peace the SWA had offered to be the security force so that the protest leaders would know that the gun wielding branch of the mob was at least trained and disciplined.

The SWA was the army of the left, soldiers forged from the workers and farmers of Mokastana, and it was their duty to protect them from any threat be it domestic or foreign. The SWA had staged coups before, and would always be ready to do it again, but today was not that day. Today there were six thousand Socialist supporters not 5 miles from their building, the People were angry, the mob outside was the voice, and the SWA was merely the fist. The People may not want war, but given the history of Mokastana it was only right to bring a gun just in case.


Mokastana City, Government Distinct, Federal Parlament Building

Six thousand people filled the government district of Mokastana City, and at least a thousand of them were in the courtyards the Supreme Court and Parliament. The Senate was also cut off by the crowds of people due to the fact both Parliament and the Senate were housed in the Capital Building. Protesters waved signs, anything from “I want my Country back” to “A Good Conservative” showing a picture of Generalissimo Franco Martinez’s corpse from when it was found after the coup. Some held megaphones, and occasionally a car was turned into a soap box so that ‘leaders of the revolution’ could give ‘fiery speeches’ to the masses before SWA personnel kindly asked them to get off the cars.

The mass of protesters went down streets around the Capital building chanting and cheering, holding up traffic intersections and some even set up camp. Their goal was to slow the Capital to a crawl forcing the city to listen to the people. Make them understand that the Socialist would not go down quietly. Small crowds from the Protest had even made it to Mokastana Police HQ, where they would stand outside and jeer the wall of SWAT and Riot control that had been formed around the building. Currently the Police force had pretty much given up that portion of the city, trusting the SWA to police their own people, but if things got out of hand, Riot control would attack, and they would have support from the National Guard.

Not to mention it would be only a matter of time before counter protests rose up , the Liberals and Conservative Parties were not as loud as the SWP, but they were Mokans, and Mokans are a passionate people when provoked, and this was a major provocation.

[The State of Monavia]

Present day

Mokastana City, Mokastana

The early hours of the day had already passed when Mark Collins, a businessman employed by a Monavian corporation, drove up the Avenue de Rancho Boyeros on his way to the Monavian Chancery, located within the Embassy Area. It was not an unusual thing for Collins to do when the nature of his work is taken into account. Corporate interests were not held in high esteem by socialist parties, and when they are perceived to be behind electoral losses, their chances of good publicity all but dissolve into nothing.

Perhaps it was for this reason that his employers were asked to avoid donating any money to Mokan candidates; in doing so they could avoid any accusations of attempting to influence internal politics. The recent election results would not do him much good in this regard. Security gates had been locked down, double guard units were stationed on shifts which overlapped by five minutes, security camera lenses had been cleaned, and the equivalent of two million thalers had been withdrawn from Mokan banks and wired to Monavia for safekeeping. All such measures were implemented the day before the protests were to begin.

Collins passed the Mokan Revolutionary Headquarters and drove through the campus of the Salvador Allende University of Medicine. His destination was the Chancery, a building housing the embassy (diplomatic mission). A press contact, Sharon Pratt, would be covering the protests while Collins watched. She was stationed with the embassy press corps, a recent addition to its staff.

After the passage of an hour, Collins was traversing Zanja, a major avenue which led to the Parliament building. They had not gotten far past the City Police Headquarters when they sighted vehicles skidding to abrupt stops only a hundred yards ahead.

[Katonazag]

Mokastana City, Mokastana
San Rafael Street

The sudden stop of the traffic was more than the '10 Pontiac Bonneville Starchief could handle, especially with the added weight of the armor concealed beneath it's mundane exterior. It's bumper plowed into the vehicle in front of it with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, crumpling the bumpers of both machines.

Once the initial shock of the impact and airbag deployment wore off, Miléna Székely took stock of the situation. First thought was for her 17-year-old son in the passenger seat. Had she the ability, she would have seen that he had almost the same look on his face as she did, especially considering his looks tended to favor her's over his father's. In the confusion, they hadn't even noticed that split-seconds after striking the vehicle in front of them, another vehicle had in turn hit their rear bumper, albeit less forcefully. Nonetheless, it left the poor Pontiac sedan wedged in between.

"Son of a ..." Árpád caught himself before he said a word that would have earned himself another impact, but from his mother's hand across the back of his head.

Locating her cell phone amid the debris of her now scattered purse, Miléna dialed emergency services.

[Mokastana]

Over the next few hours the number of protesters swelled as more local protesters came, literally by the truck full. Someone had organized pick up for people flying in and meeting locations outside of the Capital for protesters. This was organized, very organized, not even the local law enforcement could keep up with what was going on. Then again, most of their recourses were swamped either setting up counter road blocks to keep people out of the protest area, or preparing for a possible riot to occur.

One of those such streets was Zanja , Police had begin to form a barricade to keep the internationalist away from the protests along Belascoain Road. The pressure from the Government was to protect and ensure the internationals were not trouble by this at all. To ensure that the Trading Commission and Embassies were considered High Priority. Police units and Swat vehicles took over back roads around these structures to make sure that the protesters were not going to get close. Loud speakers told residents to avoid these roads or be arrested.

Along Zanja a police officer wearing his standard blue uniform with a riot helmet was going down the rows of cars asking people their purpose and kindly telling them to turn around and head home. Of course they would not be able to keep everyone out, because they could not lock down the area, but this way they could at least warn them that local law enforcement has minimal capabilities beyond this point. Eventually the Officer made it up to a stopped car with a male and female, who appeared to be non-locals. Knocking on the window he started to talk to them.

“What brings you downtown folks?”

Police HQ, Center of Government Quarter

The situation was getting worse as manpower was shrinking, government efforts wanted to keep blue uniforms near the International area to prevent them from getting the wrong idea, and stations the National Guard units south of San Rafael. Anything passed the Police HQ meant that getting forces out there was going to be trouble. Already 911 calls were coming in with things happening here and there, most past the point of police reach. Simple things like fender benders were given low priority where as break-ins and injuries were given higher importance. The police had to show they were still in charge, even if that meant letting some of the smaller thing fall through the cracks.

“Thank you for calling 911 Emergency services, what is your emergency?”

Susana had said that line 13 times today already, and it was still towards the beginning of her shift. Lots of car accidents had happened and even a few break ins by this point. Already the Police had contacted the SWA military command to try and get a radio and squad over here so they could handle the emergencies inside the protest. They had responded but so far the squad had not shown up. When will they get here she wondered as she waited for a response to the lady on the other end of the phone.

San Rafael Street

Elizabeth "Lizze" Franshaw loved watching the effect the campsite was having on traffic, being a mere 17 years old this was her first taste of the revolutionary experience. Her mother did not know she was here, well not yet anyways, it was only a matter of time before she found out though. Until then Lizzie was just going to enjoy the show camped out at this intersection watching traffic stop and have to turn around. Many would tell her she was pretty but she didn't care, and her bright red hair and fair skin stood out amongst the predominately Hispanic Mokans around her but but not like she noticed.

These were her people, and she was here to support them, whether her mother cared or not.

It wasn’t until she heard the accident did the fun of rebellion fade way. Rather than cheering the crash like a few goons did, she jumped over the barricade set up by the protesters and went to see what had happened. Already a few were helping the first car so she skipped them to knock on the window of the second car to see if everyone was ok.

“Hola, everyone alright?”

[The State of Monavia]

Zanja
Mokastana City, Mokastana

The car stopped a mere twenty feet ahead of the traffic in front of it. It was becoming obvious to Sharon and Mark that the protests were obstructing the free flow of traffic, but this was the least of their problems. While there was no indication that violence would be breaking out, police officers were making their ways around the streets and issuing warnings to leave the area. One such officer approached the car, intent of delivering a similar message, which in short, entailed that bystanders would be wise to depart before more accidents happened.

The officer came up to the side of the car. Mark lowered the window to allow him to speak. When he had, Sharon stated her business.

“I’m a journalist with the Monavian Chancery,” she paused, “well, the embassy press corps at least. I am here to cover the protests and observe what’s going on.”

Mark waited for a moment to chime in, but decided that it was best not to mention what was already obvious to the officer. It was clear to him that he was Sharon’s driver, and beyond that, Mark, being a foreign corporate businessman, did not want to draw excessive attention to himself.

[Mokastana]

Zanja
Mokastana City, Mokastana

“I’m a journalist with the Monavian Chancery,” she paused, “well, the embassy press corps at least. I am here to cover the protests and observe what’s going on.”

Mark waited for a moment to chime in, but decided that it was best not to mention what was already obvious to the officer. It was clear to him that he was Sharon’s driver, and beyond that, Mark, being a foreign corporate businessman, did not want to draw excessive attention to himself.

The moment she said 'Monavian Chancery' the officer realized the implications of this vehicle. This car had international incident written all over it and he was not going to be the one who went down in history for letting them into the mess to be torn apart by the commies.

"Wait here."

With that order he walked away from the car and pointed to a fellow officer, signalling for him to finish up this row of cars because he discovered something major. The fellow officer glanced at the car as he walked past, continuing to try and convince cars to turn around. Once the first officer was out of ear shot of the car he pulled out his radio and called his Captain to get some important personnel on the line.

"Unit 5-3 to Captain"

"Come in 5-3"

"5-3 here, we have Monavian Press corps wishing to enter the protest zone..."

The seconds ticked by as the officer waited for a response. No doubt on the other line they were trying to find a proper procedure on what to do, come up with one that could be dealt with in the event more press showed up. Local press agents could be turned away, less they be from socialist papers, or they would try and sneak in, but international press and embassy didn't realize that espionage is the best way to get information out of this protest. Finally after seconds of waiting the radio cracked with a response.

"Unit 5-3 come in."

"5-3 here."

"Escort embassy press corps to police HQ. They will handle it."

"Copy that Captain, 5-3 escorting embassy press to Police HQ. Over and out." A few seconds later "5-3 to 5-0, escorting press corps."

"Copy that 5-3, I heard the conversation. over and out."

With that the officer turned back to the car and motioned for them to roll down the window. No doubt the poor press officers were wondering what just happened, the lack of answers would probably not help at all.

"I have been notified to escort you to police Headquarters. If you would like we can leave your car here and take a cruiser or you can let me drive and we will get there faster."


Parliament Building, Central Government District

"Today Parliament was suppose to meet, but the vast majority of senators and Parliament members have opted to remain in their hotels and many have even opted to return home until this protest has blown over. Only a select few of Parliamatarians have attempted to enter the crowd. Nearly all Parliament vehicles have been stopped by protesters before they could reach the gates of the Parliament. Those of Conservative and Liberal Parties have been turned around, sometimes under threat of physical violence. In this footage, you can see a Member of the Liberal Party being shoved by socialist protesters, as you can see, things almost got violent when the senator's guard pulled out a weapon but SWA soldiers got their in the nick of time to maintain order.

*footage shows approx. 5 men in black body armor and fatigues aiming guns at the senator and his guard, pulling the protesters off the senator and once the guard is disarmed, they turn around to keep protesters off the politician. Getting him and his guard back in the car they put the driver in the passenger seat and turn the car around, riding on the sides SWAT style.*

The few Parliamatarians allowed through have been either members of the People's Party or the Socialist Workers Party. Party Leader Nicolas Villa of the People's Party had this to say about the protests:

"My fellow socailistas, this protest, while a good symbol of the power of our struggle is not the right answer. There is more to this nation then just us, and unfortunately democracy has swung in a direction that does not require us to fight for them. We will still hold strong to our values, and just like you I have given much to see this country become this glorious nation of ours. I have made many decisions I regret to this day to give us what we have, but if there is one thing I refuse to do it is step on it is the right of our country men to express their opinions. We can protest and remind them of our opinions, but holding the Capital hostage is not right. I pray you will respond with some reason."

[Katonazag]

Mokastana City, Mokastana
San Rafael Street

“Thank you for calling 911 Emergency services, what is your emergency?” the voice on the other end politely inquired.

Mrs. Székely looked around as she replied, "There's been an auto accident on San Rafael Street just before Avenue Itaila." She knew that she probably wasn't pronouncing the name right, but she was too upset to worry with things like that at the moment. "We're all right, but I don't know about the car in front or behind us, and with what's going on, I'm not sure about getting out of the car."

Árpád turned and looked out the passenger side window, mostly out of embarrassment that his mother seemed to be afraid of the situation. Afterall, he was sure he could handle himself against a protester or two. Instead of relief from embarrassment, he found himself unbecomingly startled by a girl who didn't look Mokan rapping at his window. Maybe she was from the Kingdom of Krommindy embassy, people from that country sometimes had red hair, especially if they were of Aeryanni descent.

"Hola, everyone alright?”, she called into the car."

Mrs. Székely let out a scream at the sudden appearance of the newcomer, her nerves were wound so tight by now. "They're trying to break into our car!" she shouted frantically into the cell phone.

"No she's not, mom! Calm down!" He'd just used a tone that he wouldn't have normally gotten away with, but the shock of his tone did seem to stem the tide of his mother's fears momentarily. Turning back to the window, he rolled the window down an inch or so. "We're fine, she just shaken up by all this. Are you from the Krommindy embassy?"

[Mokastana]

Mokastana City, Mokastana

911 Office, Police HQ


"There's been an auto accident on San Rafael Street just before Avenue Itaila. We're all right, but I don't know about the car in front or behind us, and with what's going on, I'm not sure about getting out of the car."

The operator on the other end began to speak when she got interrupted.

"Ma'am, is the situation you are in-"

"They're trying to break into our car!"
"No she's not, mom! Calm down!"

"Ma'am? Ma'am? are you Alright? Are you in a safe location? Please stay on the line with me, if the situation is bad you may need to leave your car, did you see any police or MP's in the area? If so can you make it to them?"

The operator waiting on the line for some response, as she did so she typed in her computer the location given to her and put in: Miner Accident, Possible assault/request assistance. The possible assault moved it up the priority list but still meant that at most an officer or two would make it to the scene.

San Rafael Street

Lizzie looked into the car and saw the lady panic and began to wonder what the hell her problem was? Ain't she ever seen the people rise up before, this was democracy in action, none of that pansy stuff the 'Union' members called democracy, assuming they actually had it.

"We're fine, she just shaken up by all this. Are you from the Krommindy embassy?" The boy barely rolled down the window to respond to her, she knew she looked threatening standing at 5'9" and weighing around 120 lbs. but she decided to let this go, especailly since the boy thought she was ?Krommidian?

"The Krommindy Embassy?" She responded sharply, "Nope, I am about as Mokan as you can get around here."

She looked at the truck of the car in front of them and saw how far the sedan had crashed into its truck.

"Damn, you must of been haulin' ass or something, you did a number on his car. So I take it you all need to exchange insurance nonsense and all that?"

Behind her she looked to see others helping the people out of the car behind them, and to the front it seemed they got the worse of it, two guys in the front seat who didn't want to be moved, they would probably need an ambulance soon. Around her the protesters seemed to be either ignoring them or trying to help out the accident victims.

A few blocks back towards the police barricade was getting set up, police cruisers sat blocking off the roads past Belascoain but they realized there were already many cars between them and the protesters road blocks. This was a disaster, the last place anyone wanted to be was the no man's land between police and protesters, but look at where they were now. The situation was radioed in and thus all 911 calls in that area were compiled for a group to sort through quickly to figure out where to send the boys in blue first. Non-threats were green, assault and theft yellow, and property damage red. The reason property damage was rated higher than assault and theft was that once things started to look like a riot, people would act like it was one. Fires to cars and break ins would need to be taken car of ASAP.

Slowly the reports came in and this seemed to be getting closer and closer to an actual riot. Finally the SWA responded, they were activating an additional 3 companies of troops to supply additional security.

Inside the zone however things were going to be interesting until the additional security arrived.

[The State of Monavia]

Present day

Mokastana City, Mokastana

Collins was prepared to take up the officer’s proposal and offer his acceptance. He had an obligation to maintain his own safety, but as Pratt’s driver, he also was responsible for her.

“Officer, perhaps it would be best if I got out and allowed you to take us there. This is a good car and I would hate to see it trapped in here jamming up traffic.”

“What?” Sharon inquired. Her annoyance was obvious. “We can’t cover the protests.”

“I think that the officer is trying to say that it’s unsafe for us.”

Sharon shot a dark glare at Mark. “Once we are at Police Headquarters, what do we expect to do? Lose a good story?”

Mark stepped out and took a seat in the back. “Take us to the station,” he said.

While they were being driven away, unaware of Party Leader Villa’s address or its journalistic potential, the streets continued to fill with noise and unease.

[Katonazag]

Mokastana City, Mokastana
San Rafael Street

The voice in the phone broke back in once Mrs. Székely stopped. "Ma'am? Ma'am? are you Alright? Are you in a safe location? Please stay on the line with me, if the situation is bad you may need to leave your car, did you see any police or MP's in the area? If so can you make it to them?"

"Y-yes, I think so..." she shakily replied. "My son is talking to a girl who knocked on the window. I'm sorry, this is just so much to take all at once. I haven't seen any police yet."

Árpád was rather easily convinced now that she wasn't a threat. He'd had who knows how many briefings from the Marines that comprised embassy security concerning situations that could lead up to kidnapping attempts. And this one was textbook. His initial concern was that she may have had a weapon, but she seemed sincere enough, and he was pretty sure she would have produced or used it by now if she was going to. "Oh yeah, you're right," he said as he reached into the glove box to get the registration and insurance card. Then he realized what was on the registration: the HCSK embassy. If someone found out who they were before the police or military got there, there could be trouble. And he certainly couldn't tell her that the reason their Pontiac had done so much damage wasn't because of speed; it was the additional support to the frame and the armor that made it much more rigid, and added significant momentum over a regular model.

He put the registration and insurance card back before he'd removed it. Instead, he decided to buy some time. He hand-unlocked his door and opened it, then closed the door behind him right as his mother started to protest. The din of the protesting and ensuing chaos outside immediately drowned her voice out. "Hey, are they ok?" he asked the girl as he gestured toward the car in front. "They just suddenly stopped short, we couldn't stop in time." He looked both ways up and down the street that had clogged to a complete traffic jam. Up ahead, a group of protesters were blocking the intersection. Behind and in the distance, he could see the glittering glimmer of the police lights. Between the three, none of these or any vehicles would be moving here for quite some time.

[Mokastana]

Mokastana City, Mokastana

The two Monavians were reporters, that was for sure. Luckily one had the common sense to cooperate with police, the officer thought silently to himself. The other one however seemed annoyed that the locals had decided her safety was more important than her story, such was the press corpse....

"Thank you for the cooperation. This should be short."

With that the officer took a seat in the car, and begin to pull out of the lane of cars into the center turn lane. With the outbound lanes barely populated (most cars had either parked in the Government quarter or were dodging it completely) the officer quickly turned around and took them back into the 'safe' part of town and turned south to get on Avenue Simon Bolivar. As the car approached the Police Headquaters building the Monavians might have noticed the wall of Riot control facing Parliament, protesters had been pushed back from the building, allowing the portion of Simon Bolivar in front of the Station to become a temporary parking lot.

A road block on Belascoian turned most vehicles southern except for theirs, due to the officer reporting in as 5-3, his uniform and helmet helping to convince the blockade he was legit. Once pasts they made it to the makeshift lot where two SWAT Vans sat next to a Mk III Supply Truck, this one fitted for troop transport, the Mokan Red Star on the side had the words 1st National Guard Division underneath it. Troops and police were rushing here or there between parked vehicles, but if they looked closer they would see one of the Humvees in the lot did not have just the Red Star, but a white skull with the star as its background. For someone with Mokan Cultural knowledge, they would know that was an insignia for the Socialist Workers Army.

The Officer drove the car into the underground parking lot and parked the car safely in with the other civilian cars, most of them owned by fellow police officers. Once there it was a simple matter of exiting the car, and taking a side door into the station, were a receptionist waited for them.

"Unit 5-3, checking in with the reporters."

After some typing on the computer the receptionist smiled back at the officer and told him he could hitch a ride back to his area with a patrol car just leaving. As for the reporters:

"If you could just a take a seat, Captain Tomas will see you shortly."

The receptionist picked up her phone and dialed the proper extension,

"yes, the first of the reporters are here....no, no more have shown up yet....thank you, bye."

Within minutes, which might have felt like ages, three men finally came into the waiting room where they sat. The one in the lead was the only one dressed as a police officer, the other two wore the traditional combat fatigues of the SWA, as per SWA tradition, neither had officer insignias on them, making it hard to tell if these men were important or not.

"Greetings I am Captain Tomas, this is Major Ispin, and this is Corperal Perrez, both members of the SWA."

Both men stood quite tall, dark skin from many years in the field, and both looked quite serious. Speaking in plain english both nodded to the reporters until the one identified as Ispin turned to his counter part.

"Perrez, take care of them, stay in constant contact with me, report in every ten minutes.

"Yes sir," Perez responded and turned back to the reporers. "Good day, I am Corperal Perrez, I will be your escort in the protests today. May I ask your names."

Behind him the other two men were already walking away back into the building to get more work done.

[Mokastana]

Mokastana City, Mokastana
San Rafael Street

"Alright ma'am, please stay on the line with me, now is anyone else injured that you know of? We will be attempting to get an officer to you soon. I just need you to stay with me."

Susana began to realize that something was unusual about this woman, it was probably the accent that gave her away. On her computer she updated list to include 'PSBL FGNR', or 'Possible Foreigner'.

"Ma'am, if I may ask, are you a Mokan Citizen?"

San Rafael Street

Lizzie thought something was off about how he reached in for the Insurance information and then put it back, her guard went up a little bit out of natural reaction when he climbed out of the car, but his curiosity for the other drivers seemed to calm her down.

"Hey, are they ok?"

"I dunno, it sounds like they aren't moving, perhaps we should check it out."

In the car behind them the driver climbed out of his car, he had just purchased this car and these no good commies had just resulted in him getting in a wreck. As Lizzie began to walk to the car in front the driver of the third car yelled up ahead to anyone listening:

"Damn you commie bastards, this was a new car! Get off the road, you lost! Deal with it!"

With that the man pulled out an iron bar from his car and began heading towards the nearest group, which ironically was the group that was trying to help him.

"Hey man, chill out, are you ok?"

"Chingate Commie! You see that, this is my car, you owe me a knew car! All of you collectivist bastards!"

The man had yet to start swinging but the tension was building, behind the helpful protesters a few pulled out weapons of their own and began yelling back at the man.

"You want to start something pig? We outnumber you a thousand to one!"

"Try me Commie!"

"Put down the weapons, everyone, we don't need this shit here, we have injured-"

"I'll make some injured."

Lizzie turned around to watch the scene behind them unfold, looking back to the boy with her she nudged on his arm.

"Perhaps we should get you and your mother out of here..."

[Zaheran]

OOC: Apologies for the delay. Have been a bit short of time lately.

Embassy District
Mokastana City, Mokastana

'The Black Horse' was not the only Zaheranian restaurant in the Mokan capital, but by any standards it was one of the better. Located in the embassy district, in a building adjacent to the Zaheranian embassy, it catered mostly to embassy staff and visiting businessmen. It was also, the general consensus of the Zaheranian ex-pats went, one of the few places in the city where you could grab a decent beer.

At two in the afternoon, the lunch rush was over, and there were only about a dozen patrons in the bar. Sitting by the counter, David Reisen sipped a beer slowly while he watched a newscast from MNN roll past on the TV screen. The big news item of the day was, of course, the demonstrations down town. Thousands of Socialist supporters had blocked off the government district in protest against the recent success in the parliamentary elections of the Liberals and the Conservatives, protected by their own 'army' in the form of SWA.

He shook his head. He doubted he could ever truly understand the Mokans. They were so different from his own people. Zaheranians very seldom, and reluctantly, took to the streets, and only when they were severely displeased. In the whole Zaheranian history, there had been only handful of popular uprisings. Mokans, by contrast, sometimes seemed to be willing to start a revolution just for the hell of it. Perhaps it was the heat of this country that set their blood on fire.

He heard the door open and close and turned to greet the new arrival. Robert Wendell was the chairman of the Zaheranian Trade Council in Mokastana, an organisation which served to promote Zaheranian economic interests. Reisen, who was the local head of a firm which imported tractors and other agricultural equipment, had had regular dealing with him ever since he had arrived to Mokastana, three years earlier. Over time, they had even become friends, of sort.

Wendell sat down by his side. Reisen raised two fingers in a silent signal to the bartender, who placed two glasses on the counter. He watched with some fascination as the chairman of the Trade Council grabbed his beer and downed half in a single gulp.

'Not a good day, I take it?,'

The other man shook his head and gestured to the TV screen.

'Bloody Mokans. I wonder if they know how hard it is to attract investment to this God-awful country? Investors are a nervous bunch at the best of times, but now they are scared shitless. They're afraid that the soccies are going to throw another revolution and nationalise the whole economy. I had to spend the whole morning trying to keep half of them from selling and running away with their tails behind their legs. And with the media picking up on this, it's only going to get worse. I hate the bastards!'

'Who? Journalists, investors or Mokans?'

'All of them.'

They sat silent for a few minutes and watched the news report. Shaky footage showed a Liberal senator getting swarmed by protesters as he tried to reach the Parliament building. In the end, he was forced away at gunpoint by SWA troopers. The bartender switched over to a Zaheranian channel. Same footage, with the anchor talking excitedly about a 'communist coup' in Mokastana. Apparently, the streets 'were running red with blood'. They looked at each other and shook their heads. Journalists.

'It can't be that bad,' Reisen said at last. 'Villa can still pull some clout, and he's nobody's fool. I'm sure he'll be able to keep them in line and prevent them from doing something stupid.'

The other man snorted.

'I doubt that anyone can keep them in line now. When the Mokans are this fired up about something, it usually ends bad for someone. In this case, I have a strong suspicion it will be us.'

Reisen looked at his watch. It was time to leave if he wanted to get there in time, especially under the present...circumstances. He stood up and retrieved his jacket. On his way out, he gave the other man a pat on the shoulder.

'Cheer up. It'll work out, on way or another.'

'Where are you going?'

'Down town. Got a business meeting at four thirty'. He grinned. 'Don't worry, I'll be perfectly okay. It takes more than a few thousand rioting socialists to keep me from making money. Don't drain the bar until I get back.'

He nodded to the bartender and placed a couple of bills, Mokan Gold Labors, on the counter. Whistling to himself, he stepped outside, squinting at the bright sunlight. It was only a few minutes walk to the wall that surrounded the Embassy District. The heavily-armed Jaguars guarding the gate gave him a surprised glance – most foreigners were going the other way- but said nothing. He patted his inner pocket to reassure himself that his passport, his only way of re-entry, was still there. It was. He continued on his way. The streets closest to the embassy complex were eerily silent and empty, but farther away he could hear angry shouts and police sirens.

Coming around a corner, he suddenly found his way blocked by police cruisers. Beyond the roadblock was a no man's land stretching to the protesters' roadblocks on the other side. It looked like there had been an accident in the middle. He gulped. Perhaps this was actually worse than he had expected. Conjuring up his best Spanish, he went over to the closest police officer.

'Buenas tardes, officer. How is the situation?'

[Mokastana]

Presidential Palace, Mokastana City

As the first day came was coming to a close it became apparent that the majority of Parliament would not be taking seats today. This was the first major test of the newly elected regime and they were not sure on which course of action to take. The footage of a senator being escorted off by gunpoint was not helping things, and neither was the lack of explanation of the SWA's actual role in this mess. Some saw the SWA as the Peacekeepers, other saw them as the armed branch of a rebellious organization, and in effect, both were probably true. However those leaders in charge new this was not a fight worth going to war over, but the 'People' insisted on showing their displeasure. Inside the walls around the Presidential Palace the Powers at be met in what they hoped was a quiet meeting. Sitting around the large oak conference table was the current President Benito Vera and those he believed had the most effect on the outcome of this 'riot'.

Being the first elected President not from the main Island this was a major step in the cultural unifying of Mokastana, for this man was from Mejico originally and had actually served in the Mejican Army as a Corporal during the conquest. he later served as a Sergeant during the Mejican Revolution, even if it was on the Mokan's side, but no candidate is perfect. His stance made him a man of peace rather than war, but even so he understood that power comes from might. In this case he was reluctant to use that power, for the first step of a truly representative government of Mokastana needed to come into power peacefully, or so he believed.

To his left of the table sat the man who had served many times before him, Nicolas Villa. A man who had probably served with many of the fathers of the protesters out there now. Probably the last survivor besides his brother from his original Company in the SWA Nicolas had seen far too much bloodshed in his life and did everything he could to prevent more, but the younger generations just never seemed to learn...

Next was General Manuel Diego, Economic Advisor and technical Leader of the SWA. Since his army was out in force today he new that all orders would come through him. The man had served under Villa during the old wars and felt as Villa felt. To him this was a Peacekeeping mission, let the Socialistas blow off steam and it should all blow over.

Finally at the table was a man who, like his predecessors, had always found themselves in the important places, a certain Senator Milano of the SWP. This man was the official liason between the organizers of the protest and the government. A man who also had served in the SWA during the wars, but as an intel analysis, by no means glorified but important. He later found his oratory and influence skills to be highly valuable, and such he made it into politics. How he ended up here was a mystery, but in the end it was up to him to come with a peaceful solution with the men at this table.

President Vera:"Gentlemen, we have a situation on our hands, while we all know the protesters will eventually dissipate and order will eventually be restored, I cannot protect us from the massive economic damage this is going to create, already we have had Union business start to pull out of Mokastana, my reports show a massive drop in bank holdings by some very influential companies. We need to a way to show the world we have this under control."

General Diego: "To be fair, Mr. President, do we have this under control? I honestly must say that I do not know if my soldiers can keep the peace if they turn on us, already we have had to escort a few Parliamentarians out using, as you may have saw, unnecessary force. In addition we have created a makeshift prison by the National Guard's Port entrance just to keep the fights and looters locked up. Thankfully I have a deal with the Police where we drive them out of the area where they are taken to proper police holding cells. There are at least 12 UCAC businesses in the affected area, only three have been broken into so far, one was burned down but we managed to keep the press of off that one. Though to be fair it is only a matter of time before the other nine are taken down. On the bright side Nicolas' speech really did fire up the alternative method group. Rumors from the foot soldiers is that plenty of protesters have taken his words quite to heart."

Nicolas VIlla: "Thank you, I did what I could and hopefully they most will see the light. I believe that the majority will only stick around for the first day before they head back home, its the extremists that we must worry about."

Nicolas thought back to the crowd that tried to get to him when he left the Capital Building to get to this meeting. The one sign he kept seeing over and over was his face, with the words 'SELL OUT' underneath it. Had those fools learned the lessons he had in his life he would understand why he did these things. People needed some instant relief from their work, Capitalism did regulate the economy within reason, and socialism, for all its values, could not solve everything. However some people would not listen...those are the ones he feared would do the worst damage.

Senator Milano: "Yes, I fear the extremists will cause some more trouble, the last thing we need is more bad press. Even the left wing news sources are starting to consider this a little extreme. I think our years of serenity have calmed us down a lot, however the Mokan Spirit refuses to sit back quietly. Hopefully once this blows over Mokan Politics will finally be stable enough, Tomorrow I give a speech to the crowd, I must sound like I am here to defend them, but since you gentlemen insist, I will do what I can to convince them let Parliament meet so a Socialist Party member can run for 'Speaker of the People', and win."

The others looked at Milano slightly taken aback. Speaker of the People was, the head of Parliament. Given that Parliament was based off of Population of the separate regions, unlike the senate where each region got the same amount of votes, the Head of the Senate was given the honorary title of "Speaker of the People". Depending on who was in the position could be anywhere from just a clerk who organized the speaking list, to a master manipulator. Nicolas looked over to Milano and began to wonder...

Nicolas Villa: Now Milano, who would run for Speaker of the People?

Senator Milano: Why I have a friend from Parliament, he has served a few terms but is a very competent man. His name is Juan Dugal, you may remember him as the previous Head of Sur Military District. He has quite the military record, and recently entered politics because he wanted to give his family a simpler, off base life. So here is my option: By giving the protesters what they want, we can get them off the streets as soon as possible. I offer them a Socialist in charge of Parliament, we may have lost the Presidency, but the voice of the People will live on.

Nicolas Villa: You speak as if the only people are the Socialist, there are more views in this country then us, hence why they elected the neutral parties.

Senator Milano: But the Socialists are the loudest voice, now there will still be a split senate and Parliament, but the Senate is run by the Liberal Vice President, and the Protesters want some sign their voices will be heard, less they do more damage. Already assaults and petty crimes run amok, according to the conservative Press anyway, and investors are pulling out of the country. I know he will not abuse the position, but given the situation is there any other solution you see that works so quickly?

Nicolas Villa looked back at the man, he had a point, by giving the protesters something the riots would lesses considerably, no doubt many of the protesters would stand firm, but this would split them even more. With some now wanting the easy route, this could break up the unity of the protesters enough to try and remove enough blockades to open Parliament.

Nicolas Villa: Very well, Introduce Dugal tomorrow and we will see if he wins the election.

Senator Milano: The protesters will be right outside if they change their minds...

Villa knew he had a point, this was going to be bad, giving into the mass before the first day was over, but hopefully they could spin this to look like the Milano and his band of men was going for a power play and the government took advantage of it. The meeting continued on for a few minutes until they adjourned to go out and take care of what they promised. Diego would get more support into the area, Milano would get the crowd to move out of the way, and Nicolas would rally his supporters to escort Parliament, the true voice of the people, to the building and act as additional support. The president sat in his office and poured himself some whiskey, the knock at his door made him wonder, but he said come in. Nicolas Villa walked in and once offered a seat, sat down and spoke simply and quietly:

"Mr. President, I served with Milano during the war, he is a crafty man and I do not know if he is up to something, but I have seen his work before. He is more than he seems to be."

"What do you mean Nicolas? Will he turn his back on us during the speech?"

"Not anymore than we asked him to, but still, I get the feeling he is up to something. His smirk when he has a plan, he is going to walk away from this mess better off, I just don't know how."

"Thanks Nic, I will try and keep an eye out for it."

"If you can."

[Katonazag]

Mokastana City, Mokastana
San Rafael Street

"Alright ma'am, please stay on the line with me, now is anyone else injured that you know of? We will be attempting to get an officer to you soon. I just need you to stay with me," said the emergency dispatcher.

Mrs. Székely looked around after having been cut off by the solid sound of the passenger door closing. "I don't know, my son went to check on the car in front of us."

"Ma'am, if I may ask, are you a Mokan Citizen?"

"No, my name is Miléna Székely, I am the wife of the Ambassador from the HCSK."

Outside the car, Árpád and the girl didn't make it to the car in front of them before the man from the car that had hit them started up. His ranting distracted them from their objective, along with other bystanders of various affiliation. And then, there was a weapon, some sort of blunt object by the look of it, but it looked like it could do some real damage. His confidence earlier in the situation about being able to handle a protester or two didn't apply to this guy; he was big, outraged, and armed. And there wasn't just one or two protesters beginning to converge on the area. One of the protesters had shouted to the man that he was outnumbered a thousand to one, and with adrenaline starting to leak into his veins again, it looked to Árpád that the threat was only a slight exaggeration.

"Perhaps we should get you and your mother out of here..." said the redheaded Mokan girl.

"Yeah, I think this is about to get really bad, really quick," replied Árpád.

Back inside the car, Mrs. Székely could hear and see the man from the car behind them, which set her fears marching forward again. "A man got out of the car that hit us, and he's really angry and yelling at people, and he's got something in his hand!" she said excitedly into the cell phone.

Árpád hatched a master plan, something that his parents wouldn't have believed him capable of. Even he wouldn't have thought he could think of such a thing. He calmly walked back over to the Pontiac and opened the passenger door, which his mother in her anxiousness had forgotten to lock behind him. However, instead of getting back in, he looked back at the girl, and hit the power unlock. Then he started to move with more urgency back to the front of the vehicle, leaving the door open. "Hop in, we're getting while the getting's still an option."

He put his left hand down on the hood and vaulted his feet up onto it, his sneakers hitting with a thump and squeak before clomping across the front of the vehicle and off the driver's side. Árpád opened up the driver's side rear door, and then the front. "Get in the back, mom," he said, once again using the stern tone and taking advantage of his mother's state of emotion. When she started to protest, he deftly reached across and popped her seatbelt open, and used his other arm to hook her left arm and pull her out by force. Though it didn't completely pull her out like a larger man could've, it unbalanced her enough to leave her with the choice of either getting out in a controlled manner, or ungracefully falling out. She chose the former, but dropped her cell phone, smashing the display. He helped guide her into the back seat, and shut the door.

After picking up the unserviceable cell phone, Árpád tossed it into the back, and jumped in. He cranked the engine back to life, and shifted the automatic transmission into neutral, looking over to the passenger seat he'd once occupied.

[Mokastana]

San Rafael Street

The Zaheranian walked straight into one of the road blocks that was just being set up, the majority of police officers wearing blue and helmets kept looking eastward waiting for the protesters to do something. In total there were about four cars and 12 officers at this particular road block, a few had even pulled out riot shields just in case things got nasty. When the business man approached an officer he turned to hear the man attempt at Spanish, instead of responding in Spanish the officer tried a response in English.

"From the Embassy area I assume? No vehicles allowed beyond this point, foot traffic is ok as long as you know what you are getting into. As you can see we pretty much have no say beyond this point. 'ETS' * units are doing their best to police inside the crowd but they can only do so much. Damn Socialists decided to protest here than in St. Alvido, who brought them to this side of the Island was an idiot."

A few blocks down from the conversation, the heated exchange continued between the man and the small crowd forming around him. Soon enough reality began to set in as he noticed that he would not be able to take them all on, not on an even fight anyways. No way was he going to back down, much less leave his new car here for the communists to burn, instead he lifted his weapon and yelled at the group:

"You want to take me? Steal my shit like the commie bastards you are? Take it, bring me down!"

Back in the Pontiac...

Susana listened to the woman as she gave her updates, given the situation she hoped a unit would hurry up and get there. When the woman responded to the Mokan Citizen question her eyes went wide with worry.

"No, my name is Miléna Székely, I am the wife of the Ambassador from the HCSK."

"Mrs. Szekely, I will do what I can to get recourses to you immediately, due to your status you are given highest priority. Expect assistance soon."

"A man got out of the car that hit us, and he's really angry and yelling at people, and he's got something in his hand!"

"Mrs. Szekely, officers are in route,"She said as she updated her computer to include "EMBASSY PRIORITY RED", "Are you in danger in any way?"

The crunch of the cell phone did not leave Susana feeling well, as a final note on the report she put "ASSAULT IN AREA, CONNECTION LOST, URGENT," Hopefully they only lost connection, not were attacked, either way...

Her phone rang again.

San Rafael Street

"Hop in, we're getting while the getting's still an option."

Lizzie was about to protest when the kid jumped over the car and began to move his mom around, even so as she watched him she spoke up: "The car is trapped, its a waste of time."

But he insisted for some reason, once he was in the driver seat looking at her she finally made up her mind..."My mother is going to kill me, I should have brought her gun." She muttered to herself before climbing into the passenger seat.

"You have a plan or are we getting front row seats to man getting beaten to death?"


Two blocks down, a humvee was parked wit the skull and red star of a SWA military vehicle, it was acting as small supply station and temporary lock up for trouble makers. In the driver's seat sat a Corporal who had not experienced combat and this was his first deployment. He was eating a lunch watching some cute girls wave signs in their intersection camp when the radio crackled:

"ATTENTION ALL UNITS! VIPs under assault on San Rafael Street just before Avenue Itaila, Embassy Family members under attack, respond NOW."

"This is Vehicle 78, I am two blocks from there, getting my men and moving out."

The girls would have to wait, he got out of his Humvee and locked the door. They had not seen any trouble for a few hours and now this, so much for an easy day. He waved to his two fellow soldiers and began marching double time down the street, AM-07 assault rifles aimed to the ground but up and ready. On the way to Avenue Itaila he briefed his unit on the situation and pulled out his portable radio to keep in contact with command.

"Vehicle 78, on foot and on the move."
_________________________________________________________________________________
*Ejército de Trabajadores Socialistas(Army of the Workers Socialist, aka SWA) The police officer is talking in English while translating from Spanish in his head. English has become a mandatory second language for all government employees and is required in all state sponsored and private schools.

[The State of Monavia]

Present day

Mokastana City, Mokastana

The traffic jams made the pair uneasy. Every minute which they spent stuck in a quagmire of people was time lost and a portion of the protest missed. With no other option than to comply and hope for a speedy resolution to their delay, the two were quiet as they sat in the back.

The car passed SWA trucks caught Mark’s attention. He recognized the red stars as belonging to the SWA, but more importantly, he realized that a heavily armed presence at a roadblock meant that there was a danger that the protests would go out of control. If there was no such danger, he reasoned, there would be no need to block the roads with such heavily armed vehicles.

Collins and Pratt arrived at the police station and waited for news of what they would be allowed to do. During this time, Sharon phoned some contacts, asking them to meet at the police station. The contacts in question were a camera and electronics crew.

After Corporal Perez was introduced they offered their names.

“Corporal, I am Mark Collins. I am a Monavian citizen working in Mokastana.”

“I’m Sharon Pratt, a Chancery reporter. I have a few others coming here within a few minutes to serve as a camera crew.”

[Katonazag]

(OOC: Sorry for the overlap with my last post.)

Mokastana City, Mokastana
San Rafael Street

Once the door closed behind her, Mrs. Székely realized that there was a stranger in her vehicle, the girl from outside. "Who are you?!?"

Árpád didn't give her a chance to answer. "Mom, she's with the Krommindy embassy, ok?" He gave the girl a look and a gesture that was meant to beg, "Just go with it..." He continued, resurrecting his tone against his mother, "I'm trying to pay attention to what's going on and you're distracting me."

This quieted Miléna once again, but looked like it was beginning to take a toll on her emotional state that wouldn't as easily ebb again as before.

"You want to take me? Steal my shit like the commie bastards you are? Take it, bring me down!" screamed the enraged man outside.

Árpád cranked the engine back to life, shifted the automatic transmission into neutral, and looked over at the girl for the briefest second. He then checked his view around the vehicle. He wasn't that far from the intersection, only a couple cars, and he knew that the hospital was to the north, or left in his case. He turned the wheel all the way to the right. Árpád prayed to Mother Mary and crossed himself as the possible fallouts of what he was preparing to do began to play in his head, and fervently hoped that the police would get there before the angry mob turned into a rioting lynch mob.

[Alfegos]

Embassy of the People's Nation of Alfegos, Mokastana City

The tropical climate of Mokastana was one that lent itself greatly to the Fegosian natives who travelled there - no shock to the system from a change in climate, and in some cases quite similar cultural traits. The architecture of the embassy building was typically city Fegosian, a large entranceway off the street leading to an inner courtyard, and inner concealed gardens. People were already moving in and out as the day started, a queue of people waiting at the security checkpoint whilst the occasional staff member running late flashed their ID cards to a scanner. There were more people visiting the embassy today, alongside an increase in telephone calls - after all, people were concerned as to the protests occuring in the capital. In the waiting room, as groups of people sat waiting to be called to whoever they were meeting, ANN World was featuring information on the protests, alongside scrolling news from the Fegosian homeland.

In the Ambassador's office, the man himself sat watching the news as protestors moved towards the city centre. The head of security, one of 8 men as was the standard detail, sat in his uniform - Urban FEGOPAT camouflage, alongside black body armour and helmet, the latter cradled in his lap. A large Fego emblem on his back and front, alongside "SECURITY", told all onlookers what they needed to know. He was a member of the ISS at worst, a soldier of the Diplomatic Guardsmen at best, leading a team of mixed ability in their posting here.
"For now at least, you'll need to ensure security remains tight here, by raising the alert level. If the mob starts coming down the streets, all entrances need locking down, and the embassy placed on alert. Whilst it will not likely come to that, you know as well as I do what riots can be like here."

The ambassador was an aging man, yet one with the pedigree needed for such a task. He had been ambassador to Mokastana ever since diplomatic relations had been set up, and prior to that had been the Special Envoy to the nation. A diplomat of the 1st order, he was well respected throughout the diplomatic community. Checking the calander, he turned to his laptop, as the security head sat attentively.
"As if to make things better, we are going to have problems above that. This embassy's Consul is returning from the homeland today, arriving in two hours time. We need to ensure that they get here, despite the traffic. What are you planning to do with regards to that?"
"I was going to send a detail of two men to take one of the cars to the airport, then take the periphery routes as far as possible back. Once they get into the city, it will of course make things difficult. Hopefully, the plates will aid somewhat, but that all depends. Staying clear of the most difficult areas, of course."
"Make sure you keep me in the loop of the state of affairs. The nearest Fegosian garrison is in Neo'los, and I would rather get them involved than the FUPF or FURRF, as much as its worth. Get things done carefully."

----------------------------------

Mokastana City

NOTICE OF TRANSFER
In light of your recent request (11/11/10-557A44FUT), we are pleased to inform you that your transfer has been approved, and documentation completed. You are required to return or pay for loaned equipment, pay any outstanding fines, and vacate your accommodation within 48 hours. You must also surrender any military-issue firearms, pyrotechnics or weaponry, and any plus-Charlie documents, within 24 hours. Full details will follow shortly.

Colour Sergeant Qii'ko Sei'lon sat alone in the cavernous airship hold, his only company for now the cargo. Dim LED strips in the ceiling, amongst the chaos of beams and cables, provided enough illumination for the meantime, allowing him to examine once again the equipment within. The craft, a relatively new Clipper-class aerofreighter, was filled with cargo bound for Mokastana. Thousands of lightweight crates and containers held goods of such variety that one could not honestly begin to track down every single item within. Within small protection frames, cars and motorbikes were lined up, brand new. Foodstuffs, novelty items, clothing, international postage... everything was here, hidden in some place or another. He was just a token guard, getting a free ride to his newest deployment.

To CSjt. Qii'ko Sei'lon,
The Ministry of War would like to thank you for enrolling upon the FURRF training scheme. As you are aware already, you will be acting as an auxilliary in the final stage of Basic Training for FURRF soldiers on the standard course (i.e. No Prior Experience). Your posting will be to Mokastana City FURRF base for two weeks for acclimatisation and briefings, followed by movement inland to the main Mokan FURRF training facilities.

He had kept much of the kit he was issued to permanently from the stores for his regiment, the Borealis Light Infantry regiment. Tropical FEGOPAT uniform, body armour, load-bearing equipment, and many ancilliaries of various types, from shelter sheet to gas stove. He still had the insignia of his regiment on his left sleeve, just below the Alfegos national flash. In terms of personal equipment, he had very little, living as he did in military housing. In fact, barring the larger items that he had left in a storage unit in Il'vi, his entire personal life fitted into a tracsuit bag and pockets. Yet hopefully, with the extra pay the transfer would net him, it would allow him to secure a decent life upon his discharge from the Army. He was entitled a war pension as it was, and would be taking great advantage of the extra thousands of Æ. His biggest investment, bar the motorcyle back in Alfegos, was the sidearm that he had brought with him. Whilst the ship's crew had issued him an old AF-2S sharpshooter rifle he knew that the AMP-2, which was illegal for public possession back home, was the thing that would save his life if it kicked off. An AP-89 had been taken by the armourers of Alfegos Aeronautics and Ev'kho Heavy Industries, and turned into a fully automatic pistol. Rarely issued due to its inaccuracy, it had become a cult icon amongst ISS agents as a weapon both unofficially carried for building clearance, and as one used against them by criminals. Personally, he appreciated the weapon he had aquired off an ex-ISS agent, which had been modified further by a backstreet gunsmith to use the more common 9mm Parabellum round, alongside an extended magazine and countless amounts of tinkering. The device would use up a 30-round "standard" magazine in about two seconds, a burst enough for him to get away. That, and the heavy duty construction of the thing allowed a visible deterrent to anyone wishing to start things off.

An alarm sounded, the warning that the craft was on landing descent. He strapped himself into the seat by the unloading ramp, as an orange light flashed overhead. The structure groaned and roared, as the massive engines changed tone and manouvered the craft around.

[Mokastana]

Present day

Mokastana City, Mokastana

After Corporal Perez was introduced they offered their names.

“Corporal, I am Mark Collins. I am a Monavian citizen working in Mokastana.”

“I’m Sharon Pratt, a Chancery reporter. I have a few others coming here within a few minutes to serve as a camera crew.”

"Oh a reporter, Welcome to Mokastana, and forgive my people, they can be quite, passionate." Corporal Perez gave her a flirtatious look and opened the station door for the two. "We can meet them outside if you would like, for this place is only going to get more crowed as the day goes on. Once your crew gets here I will escort you to anywhere in the protests you would like to go. This radio, will keep me in contact with the Station in case anything unusual does happen. However I figure the worst you will get is a protester or two yelling in your face..."

Perez had an instant where a worried look crossed his face, the publicity they could use would be bad if that happened. Going to have to keep things calm...

"Shall we?"

Back outside the situation they had seen, all the people running around, the police blockade with Riot control, had died down a bit, the crowd had been slowly moving away from the police blockade and back into the 'safer' areas, only a few extremists continued to yell at the police line. A man thew a glass bottle from out in the dissipating crowd that a riot officer managed to block with his shield. A sharp crack echoed from above as the man hit the ground in pain. From the blockade two SWA soldiers rushed to the man, the crowd had mostly not noticed but the few who did either rushed to help the man or begin to back away from the Police line.

The two SWA soldiers helped the man up, cuffed him and begin escorting him back to the police line. A few members of the crowd began to protest but the SWA cut them off.

"We will not have violence here! We will only use violence if we are struck first, that has always been the SWA way!"

Behind the Police line Perez realized that 'that' situation would have been exactly the one he hoped to avoid. Looking back to his escortees, if they were watching the scene he would simply answer with:

"Rubber bullets, SWA has snipers on the rooftops in case of trouble makers like that, trust me, we don't want this to get ugly, but of course, some of them do."

[Mokastana]

San Rafael Street

The officer who was talking to the Zaheranian was going to wait for a response when his radio cracked to life.

"ATTENTION ALL UNITS! VIPs under assault on San Rafael Street just before Avenue Itaila, Embassy Family members under attack, respond NOW."

The order was in Spanish and quite quick. So the officer could not tell if the foreigner picked up what was going on. Quickly grabbing at the radio he barked a response, also in Spanish...

"Belascoian Roadblock San Rafael reporting, cruisers in route."

The officer turned to yell towards some of his men and they began to jump in cars and flash the lights. Two of the three cars at the road block quickly came to life and turned to head down the road into the protests. The crowd was not very thick here, due to most people being at the Capital building listening to speeches, but those who were there recognized the ferocity the police were using. The officer who was talking not a moment ago ran towards one of the cars and as he was hoping in the back door yelled some orders to the two officers remaining at the road block. They went back to the pedestrian barriers set up to turn cars away from this road and noticed the man still standing there, watching the scene unfold. They looked at each other for a minute, until finally one spoke up.

"can we help you?"


Further down the street...

The first blow was swung by the madman with the wrecked car as one protester tried to get close to him, the blow knocked the protester to the ground and for those who watched, a small splatter of blood might have been noticed. At this point the few members of the group around him who were waiting for a excuse to fight charge him, some wielding picket signs and other such melee weapons. The first one that charged him swung hard with a picket sign, one that aptly read: "Never Give up, Never Surrender." The man ducked and used the pipe to take his his knee with lighting reflexes, as the attacker bent over due to the force of his attack and his down knee the car owner swung the pipe into his back, slamming his head into the side of the now damaged car. The next attack tried to spear the car owner with his picket sign, but the car owner turned his side towards the second attack and leaned back, dodging the attack. Grabbing the picket sign as it flew by him he swung it around making a nice 3 foot arch between him and the protesters, smacking a third attacker in the side of the head. Finally the car owner flung the iron pipe into the chest of the second attacker, effectively knocking him to the ground.

In the span of about 3 seconds, four men were now on the ground bleeding, the rest of the crowd began to back away as the car owner lifted the picket sign as a bat. As the crowd backed off he hit one man on the ground with the sign when he tried to get up.

"Now back the fuck off!"

In the distance police lights could be scene, but those were only visible above the crowd in the day if you were looking really hard, and someone else held the spotlight at the moment.

The car behind the Pontiac was about a similar size, but the car in front had been a compact, completely wrecked due to the collision. If Árpád was going to do something, he probably should hurry, for no one was paying attention to the fact that the car had just come back to life after the show of force by the driver behind them. However the road block in the intersection was still there, mostly tents and protesters just sitting around and chatting, a few saw horses had been set up to make it look more effective but overall it would be easy to drive through, if one had the motivation...

[Katonazag]

San Rafael Street

From the spectator's view, part one of the fight had been brief, but spectacular. The protesters had closed the distance with the irate motorist faster than Árpád could react, which pinned the fight against the car behind them. He still could have acted, but he would likely have hurt them. He wasn't too sure on the specifics, but he was pretty sure vehicular assault wasn't something the Mokans would smile on.

Now there were four men down on the ground that Árpád could see using his side mirror, and the angry driver was still on his feet and challenging the crowd. The next protesters would likely try to take him on with ranged weapons - rocks, bottles, maybe even a Molotov cocktail or a gun. That's not something he wanted to be anywhere near. He could hear police vehicles in the distance behind, but with traffic being so bad, they wouldn't be able to get up there anytime soon. At least not soon enough.

Árpád steeled his will, double-checked that the doors were locked, then hit the accelerator. In neutral, the RPMs hit red-line in barely a second. The people in front of them were definitely injured, so he didn't want to make it worse. The guy behind them causing the trouble was only going to cause more and get more people hurt. That's why Árpád had turned the wheel to the right; because now he slammed the transmission into reverse.

Instead of pushing the car straight back, this would cause both cars to yaw, but in the opposite directions. Metal and plastic crushed as tire rubber transformed to smoke, adding a screeching noise over the loud but smooth growl of the 325 hp engine. The front of the car behind them was slowly forced back and to the right, as the front of the Bonneville Starchief backed off of the compact car's rear bumper and started angling left. Árpád's adrenaline was racing now, as the two cars slowly impacted the ones in the next lane, the other motorists powerless to do anything to get their cars out of the way. If the angry man was doing anything about it, he wouldn't have noticed much. Finally, he had enough space where he could do this without hitting the car that his mother had run into.

He slammed the transmission into drive and cranked the wheel left before tapping the accelerator and then right again. Árpád slowly and lightly hit the rear corner of the car in the lane to the left. But instead of braking, he gradually pushed the accelerator down, shoving that car into the car in front of it, and in turn, bumping that car into the intersection. He figured they could take it a lot better than those poor folks they'd initially ran into. The car in front either had it's brakes on or was in park, or both, because the wheels weren't turning as it skidded forward under the torque-load generated by the Pontiac's motor, leaving black streaks on the slightly-less black asphalt. Once there was enough space, he cut left again, and straight for the left corner of the intersection. He hit the caution lights and laid into the horn as he accelerated through a saw horse into the oncoming lane of Avenue Itaila. He wasn't going very fast, but fast enough to make it obvious that he wasn't going to stop.

[Alfegos]

Mokastana City - Cargo Aerodrome

The soldier stood as the orange warning light turned green - the signal that the craft had landed. On the other side of the airship, he could see crew hands operating the controls for unloading the craft, now that it was moored securely at the aerodrome. Mokastana was an integral part of the international airshipping routes, and the aerodrome they had landed at was one of the largest. As the unloading ramp dropped, flooding the interior with bright tropical light, he shielded his eyes as he looked out into the distance. There were another two airships waiting nearby, just offshore and bobbing at a sea tether post whilst their lighter cargo was dropped off. Trucks and machinery clustered around the airship, as the mechanised process of removing the payload began. Crew appeared from nowhere, rushing to help heft the cargo off as quickly as possible, whilst officials watched with clipboards from the sidelines.

With rucksacks, webbing and paired tracsuit bags on him, he left the rifle with the craft's crew as he talked with the immigration official. It was brief - after all, he was a citizen of the Union, and entitled free movement throughout Union territories, especially given the FURRF training role he now had. Sitting onboard a shuttle vehicle, a light military Mokan truck with a container-load of ammunition, he looked out at the country he was now in, taking in the surroundings. Everything was different, subtlely yet noticably. Unfamiliar foliage and birds surrounded the modified style of the aerodrome, militarisation of the facility even more blatant than back in Alfegos. Heavy missile batteries, SAM triangles, bunkers and defensive fortifications lined the outskirts and critical facilities. A couple light military craft were tethered for repairs, the Mokan insignia emblazoned upon the weaponry units.

The truck finally stopped at a passenger terminal on the edge of the vast facility, allowing him to jump off. The building was grim, relatively unused at this cargo hub, yet the food was recognisable and cheap. After grabbing a late and greasy breakfast "in a bun", he set off in search of a vehicle hire firm.

-----------------------------
Down Town Mokastana

"For goodness sake, move it!"
Traffic was at a standstill, even on the edge, as the embassy car crept along. All along Avenue Antonio Maceo, what the security guards had thought was an easy route was turning out to be near standstill. All traffic that could was diverting away from the centre, to the waterfront main road, yet still every lane was still blocked. Police had at least cleared a route into the hospital, on their right, as they continued slowly forwards. After a couple minutes, the driver turned the engine off, looking into the mass of traffic. Both were tempted to take a boat or even try borrowing a helicopter. The chances of either happening were slim whilst their car was still stuck in traffic.

The vehicle itself was made by a rather foreboding company, APC - Alfegos People's Cars, at one time a public institution of the communist counter-government. The vehicle seemed from the outside a rather pleasant, modern vehicle, painted black as was standard - it was after all meant to be a non-descript vehicle, yet with a hint of style. The vehicle used wire armour in a similar style to the military airships - reams of low-grade mixed-metal wires, overlapping within the bodywork to produce a structure resistant to stray bullets, shrapnel, explosions and most shaped charges. Windows were, as standard, made from polycarbonate glass - non-shattering, and able to stop a sniper's bullet. That was all that was really needed. Within, the upholstery was fabric, at the personal preference of the ambassador. However, it was a decent, deep pile fabric where necessary, so much so that those sitting in the back would feel engulfed in luxury. The ambassador was a quirky man. In the front, the two guards sat in body armour still, vests loosened slightly in the vehicle. The two issue rifles, AF-07C assault rifles, sat in a central rack either side of the gear and handbrake control console. The rifles were themselves finely made - rather than buying the military issue equipment, the ambassador had seen that, by his personal expense, they had bought rifles on a custom order. As such, whilst they functioned in a similar way to the military equipment, they were more "pretty", so to speak. The carbines had polished walnut detail, protected from scratches and scrapes by a thick layer of resin. The metal itself had been polished before coating in laquer, again to stop damage. The Fegosian seal was engraved onto the metal, a stamp telling all that they were issue to the embassy, a stamp yet again seen on the side of the holographic sight unit. The units even had extra picatinny rail mounts, though in this case they were bare. Very few guards required the use of a grenade launcher in an embassy, barring some of the more riotous consulates and missions in fringe territories. Along with them, the guards had made use of the Mokan weaponry laws, and had the most showy pistols on sale in the country - paired semi-automatic pistols, as much for function as well as for intimidation, holstered neatly in leg pouches. The assortion was finished by the standard issue combat blade on the opposite leg, a heavy hooked blade that could be used alternately for chopping wood, breaking through structures, cutting through foliage and removing entire limbs in a swing.

Looking side to side, seeing no ruckus had yet occured nearby, one of the two switched on the radio, listening first to a news report, then switching back to a music station.

[The State of Monavia]

Mokastana City Police Headquarters
Mokastana City, Mokastana

The Corporal seemed unexpectedly pleased to be escorting members of the press, especially a foreign press at that. “Oh a reporter,” he said, “Welcome to Mokastana, and forgive my people, they can be quite, passionate.”

Cracking a polite smile, he was soon requited. “Passion makes news. Activism is good for my line of work, since it provides me with the stories people want.”

Shattering glass and loud pops interrupted the dialogue. An SWA officer had barked something about restraint. “So, the SWA is keeping order,” she dryly added. The reassurances coming from Corporal Ramirez had the intended effect.

Two minutes passed before a van drove up the street. This nondescript green vehicle carried a cameraman and a technician in the rear. The driver was doubling as a technical assistant, handling the microphones and ensuring that there was sufficient lighting in shaded areas. Parking near the curb, the three exited and began to unpack a number of things which would be needed for the impending task. A large camera and stand was hefted out of the back while a microphone cable was being extracted. The equipment had been packed with some care, but it was done on short notice.

The press crew took its time with setting up the equipment. They could not afford any technical mistakes or interference on this assignment.

After the passage of ten minutes, the crew had begun filming the protestors in the street. Sharon was aiming her gaze at the police building at one moment, and then at the people in the street. “It has certainly gotten quite heated in Mokastana City,” she began. “Thousands of protestors, many of whom are affiliated with the SWA, are going about demonstrating the typical passion so common in Mokan politics.

“The Liberal Party and the Conservative Party have recently upset the former majority coalition held by the various leftist parties, including the SWA and the People’s Party. They have lost their majority in one house of Parliament and are still displeased with their loss of control of the Senate two years ago. Despite their numbers and having ample reason to feel resentment over these losses, there has been minimal violence in this area. The SWA’s police force and private security forces have kept unruly demonstrators in check, aiding the municipal police in their duties.”

He assessment of the events unfolding had been brief and to the point. Time was more than money in journalism, it was power.

[Zaheran]

'Can we help you?'

Reisen looked up, confused. The man who had spoken was a police officer, but a different one from the one he had spoken to earlier. Where had the other man gone? He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he had not even noticed him leaving. He quickly regained his composure and shook his head, with a weak smile.

'No, I don't think so, but thank you anyway. Just...contemplating the scene, I suppose. Never seen a protest this of size before.'

He looked out over the no man's land again. A man seemed to be arguing furiously with a group of protesters, swinging an iron bar. He could not hear what was being said, but the argument seemed to have gone out of control. As he watched, one of the protesters made a lunge for the man with the iron bar, only to be beaten down brutally. More protesters attacked, only to be dealt with in the same way. Within a few seconds, four men lay injured on the ground. Whoever the man with the iron bar was, he sure know how to fight.

He did not have the overall picture, but he had a distinct feeling that the protests were escalating out of control. Cars were burning in the distance, police sirens were wailing, and he could swear he had even heard gunshots. From what the other police officer had told him, the Mokan police forces had more or less given up the city centre. A grim picture, to say the least. Worst of all, he might find himself forced to go into the middle of the chaos. Somewhere, inside the protest area, a Mokan contact was waiting for him with a contract worth twenty million USD. He just could not risk losing that.

He turned back to the police officers.

'Do you have any idea of how long this will go on?'