The Southern Crisis (Attn: GD)

[United Gordonopia]

Whitworth Square, Whitworth, United Gordonopia
Midday

Perhaps no one would die today. This thought was constantly in the minds of Whitworth's men and women as they went about their daily lives in their small city's center. Those who tried to put this grim prayer out of their minds were constantly reminded. The synchronized boot steps of the recently deployed 8th Division. The faint siren in the distance; a police car or firetruck. The headlines at a newsstand; 'April 10 Bomber in Custody', 'High Command Ponders Further Deployment'.

Days before, the latest in a months-long string of bombing attacks had hit Whitworth. Despite a de-facto declaration of martial law in the city, the most recent attack had been the most brutal: a group of explosions resulting in the deaths of almost 240 students at Schlesser Memorial Secondary School. The only glimmer of hope was that for the first time, one of the fundamentalist Republicans behind the attacks had been apprehended.

On this cloudy morning, Whitworth's residents silently prayed that such an attack didn't happen again. The death toll from the attacks in recent months was stretching into the thousands; devastating for any city, let alone one of barely a million. Such bloodshed had also taken a toll on the spirits of those who called Whitworth home; virtually everyone hurried across the old brick pavement of the square as if they were the solitary inhabitant of some empty plane. The deafening roar of an explosion brought every one of them back to reality.

Panicked pedestrians turned to the source of the sound. Screams of horror broke out as they found it. Whitworth Police Headquarters. The ground floor blasted out. A gaping hole torn from wall. Rubble, bodies, parts, strewn across the sidewalk. Yet another attack. Prayers unanswered.

---

Staatsoper Gordonopia, Gordonopia City, United Gordonopia

It is quite a shame, is it not?

Sergeant Erich Ritzner could only nod as Emperor William Raleigh VII addressed him. The fact that he had captured a member of the most wanted terrorist cell in the Empire only days before hadn't overwhelmed him at all. The fact that it had earned him a personal audience with the Emperor had.

"So many of our people have no taste for this... masterpiece," Raleigh continued, "this form of art. Tell me, Sergeant, is the opera not the very essence of our people? Of Gordonopia?"

For a moment Ritzner stayed silent, perplexed as to how he should respond. "In a way, your majesty, I suppose it is," he slowly began, "to be honest, I didn't discover it until the war. Music like this just doesn't... penetrate places like Inner-Deska. When I heard it for the first time, though," Ritzner paused to find the right words, "when I heard it, it just captured me."

To many, his admiration would have seemed nothing more than flattery. To Dietrich, they were true as life. Despite growing up in the bastion of Gordonopian Rock, the first opera he had heard had touched a chord in him. He could recall the moment as if it were yesterday.

The last bridge before Tolten. Take it and advance into the Republic's industrial heart unchallenged. Fail and watch as the fading regime poured its last, best men into the city unhindered. Captain Gable orders a speaker set up. Rally the men. The crystal clear voice cascades over Ritzner. Sheer beauty in song.

As the scene on stage continued, Raleigh gazed softly at Ritzner. It felt as if the Emperor was staring directly into his soul. When a lull in the music began, Raleigh spoke once again.

"I understand you completely, Sergeant. I believe that spirit is within every one of our countrymen. How else would our great nation have produced so many true virtuosi? Steiner, Ansbach, Milner, their number stretches to eternity. It brings some comfort that my reign has brought a revival of this purest of arts. Some days I feel that it is the only true good I have accomplished."

Stunned by these words, Ritzner felt the obligation to reply.

"Your highness, you know that that isn't true. Look what you've done for our people. You've brought us land, you've restored meritocracy to a once hopeless people, you've-"

"All earthly virtues, Sergeant," the Emperor interrupted, "but you are, I suppose, correct. What I speak of, however, is so much deeper. I am referring to the Gordonopian soul. Land is necessary for a people to be great, I give you that. And no society can be called just if it relegates the least of its members to eternal hardship. However, all of this is meaningless if a nation has no spirit. That spirit, the soul, comes from literature, from culture, from music. That spirit is what we lacked for so long, what we still lack in so many ways. If ever there comes a day where we are truly at peace, I will do everything within my power to change that."

Ritzner was silent as he absorbed Raleigh's words. He had never thought to view life that way, and yet it seemed so clear. As the opera on stage reached its peak, the sergeant felt the belief take hold deep within him. Simple material strength wasn't enough; Gordonopia needed to rediscover its soul.

Just then, a uniformed Major entered the box, and leaned next to the Emperor's ear. After the man whispered for nearly a minute, Raleigh nodded and the officer left. With a lamenting tone in his voice, Raleigh turned to Ritzner and began to speak.

"Alas, it seems that day may never come. Whitworth has felt the pain of loss once again and this time, we must retaliate."

Stunned, Ritzner inquired as to what exactly had happened.

"The city's police headquarters have been bombed. Our noble police are dead in the streets. The only comfort is that your prisoner broke only moments beforehand. Unfortunately, even this brings its own dreadful revelation. Sergeant, this situation is much larger than anyone could have anticipated. I hope you will excuse me, and forgive me for leaving you in the middle of our discussion."

"Of course, your majesty," Ritzner replied.

As Raleigh turned and pulled aside the private box's curtain, Ritzner was left with a sense of wonder.

---

To: Council of Nine, The Armed Republics of the Three isles of Skibereen
From: Jonathon Dunn, Empire of United Gordonopia
Subject: Fynndjall Support of Terrorist Organizations
Restriction: Maximum

---

Dear Honored Councillors,

It is with great sorrow that I must ask you to control your people. Since the end of my nation's War of Restoration a number of radical pro-Republican organizations have attempted to reverse the popular, legitimate restoration of His Majesty Emperor William Raleigh VII. Although some of these organizations appear to work through non-violence, the pervading attitude among these fundamentalist Republicans appears to be that violence against innocent civilians will lead to change. In recent months, several groups blinded by this twisted belief have undertaken a campaign of terror throughout Gordonopia's northern provinces. Despite the best efforts the Empire's police and military forces, terrorist attacks have already claimed the lives of thousands of men, women and children.

Until recently it was believed that radical groups were acting independently. I now know that this is not the case. Several sources of information, ranging from military intelligence to prisoner testimony, have indicated that organizations within your nation are currently the primary backers of these groups in terms of both funds and materials. Although I am aware that your nation does not recognize foreign law as legitimate, I implore you to restrain the criminal and political elements within Skibereen that have enabled so much suffering on the part of my people.

Because of the dire situation within Gordonopia, quick action is necessary. As you receive this communique, you will find that Fynndjall assets within Gordonopia have been frozen. This will remain in effect until our situation is resolved. If no solution can be reached, the Empire of United Gordonopia will be forced to take more drastic measures to ensure the safety of its people.

---

Sincerely,

Jonathon Dunn
Arbitrator of Foreign Affairs

---

OOC: If you are interested in joining, and you aren't from GD, contact Gordonopia or Skibereen by TG or IRC.

[Skibereen]

To those who have attempted to glean an understanding of the complex structure of the government of the Armed Republics of the three Isles of Skibereen(Poblachtaý Armtha na Trý Oyleáinn na Scyobayrýnn) the place where both peace and power is seated is the Obligation Hall (Capital Building) in New Dublynn. Therein sits the highest executive branch of government, the Council of Nine.

The Council of Nine is comprised of equal status leaders; three Blood Chieftains- elected by votes of the lineage of the strongest(ruling) Clann of each given Republic, three Scholars- elected by votes from the Academic establishment of each given Republic, one is not considered a member of the Academic establishment unless they posess a full Doctorate in a given field of study, and three Representatives- elected via direct vote from the populace of legal voters who have earned that right to vote via land ownership. These nine people are expected to place the biases of their history behind them and represent the Republics as whole and single entity. In doing this they must always consider the traditions of the people, nothing in Skibereen, in any of its Republics, is as important as its customs, its traditions. Nothing.

The Head of the Council of Nine is the Blood Chieftain Frederick Ormurchadha, elected by his peers among the council to sit as President of the Nation, Representative Brian McQue by the same process holds the seat of Tretten Ord Man, and DR. Eric Moore PhD as Master of the Chamber.

During the early morning briefing of the day's agenda a young clerk brings to the chamber a high priority missive from the Gordonopia Arbitrator of Foreign Affairs, Jonathon Dunn.

The councilmen read the document in silence, as a page poured whiskey, and passed around crisp oat biscuits.

Brian McQue began " This is a disturbing bit of news, do we have some measure of confirmation of these alleged trends?"
As he spoke he handed the document to a man standing behind him who immediately dialed a three digit number on a hardlined phone on the wall closest to him, he spoke softly so as to not interrupt any of the councilmen.

Frederick OMurchadha sat at the head of the long table at which the leaders prepared for their day's work.
An oddity one would note about the leaders of this prosperous nation is that all official meetings were held with all those of rank stripped to waist so as to display their Scars and Marks( a traditional tattooing and scarification practice in Skibereen) .
To anyone with any knowledge of the Scars and Marks it would be clear why OMurchahda was chosen to sit as head of the council, the stubble on his neatly shaved head betrayed what would be a full head of white hair, his face was taught and could by some even be called gaunt, though it did not allude clearly to his age, his Scars and Marks however showed him to be a man who was always moving towards power, always engaged, driven. The Scars and marks when viewed by someone who knows how to read them tell all one needs to know about someone.

At this point he was sitting quietly observing.

Papers were shuffled, idle chit chat was exchanged as savory oat biscuits and the morning's measure of whiskey was taken.

The attendent to Representative McQue hung up the phone and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

McQue then spoke again.

"It seems a cursory check of international personal financial transactions over the last 60 days indicates a spike in funds being directed into Gordonopia. So at a glance it appears the complaint is at the very least probably factual. "

Eric Moore
"Fascinating, you are aware that we collect taxes? I only ask because to my knowledge there is nothing illegal about spending your money on foreign goods and services. So while the complaint may be accurate, I fail to see how its our issue. We do not police the spending of earned income of private citizens or organizations. as well the last time I checked we do not aid in propping up monarchies, or enforcing their edicts. So that they managed to make a factual statement seems to me to be not quite important enough to receive our attention, yet it has, and I suggest the matter be concluded, unless someone here can show me where Fynndjall law or custom has been violated?"

McQue
"Excuse me Dr. Moore, I do agree in part with your very cool assessment of the situation, however we are obligated to act in good faith with our neighbors. What I see is a plea for assistance in solving an internal conflict, or rather in not contributing to it. I believe that does merit some measure of discussion."

Moore
"Well sir, if my tone seems clinical then I apologize. However are job, is not now nor has it ever been the enforcement of foreign edicts upon their people. Perhaps if the missive was a complaint that our citizens are funding abolitionism and acts of resistance to slavery this too would make you rise to the defense of a crown. I however am not so easily led to forgetting the principles of our land, and its customs. Further more I will be damned if I am going to apply foreign directives to our own citizens much less aid in said imposition upon Republicans resisting a monarchist government installed by what can rightly be called a coup."

Much discussion ensues between all the council members as this simple issue becomes a matter of heated debate.

Finally at this point Frederick OMurchadha begins;
"Mr. McQue, Mr. Moore, its very simple our course is clear..."

_________________________________________________________________
OFFICIAL MISSIVE
FOR THE EYES OF; Gordonopia Arbitrator of Foreign Affairs, Jonathon Dunn

Issued from the Obligation Hall, seat of the Council of Nine, Skibereen.

Dear sir,
We view your issue with great compassion, and deep regret at any perceived wrong doing which may have resulted from actions or interests of any of the citizens of the Republics.

To that end, all Fynndjall military personnel will be reminded of their obligations to uphold the righteous spirit of good will, that they may not interfere in the political landscape of your or any other land with regards to a seated legitimate government.

Additionally, no government funds shall be made available to any organization or individual in Gordonopia until such time as this matter is brought to rest.

Sincerely,
Nine
_________________________________________________________________

[United Gordonopia]

Arbitrat of Force, New München Island

Wounds heal, but pain lingers on. Six years ago, United Gordonopian Military Intelligence had been nothing but a burned out ruin. The opening hours of the war had seen Monarchist troops capture the heavily fortified bunker, but loose the equipment and knowledge destroyed by the Republicans inside. Now, new life thrived within the same tunnels: the Arbitrat of Force had taken root.

Today, the AoF had received the latest in a never-ending line of tasks associated with suppressing the pain left by the war. Although the official peace was years old, the citizens of Northern Gordonopia still lived in constant fear. The lingering pain of attacks by Republican groups, still fighting long after their government had surrendered, seemed endless. Now, disturbing developments had changed the fight irreparably: these last Republicans were no longer receiving their support from within Gordonopia itself. After a frenzied search, the largest supporter had finally been identified.

"Gentlemen, we're here today because we have no other choice," Arbitrator Warren Gable revealed. Before him, in a small conference room, a half-dozen men were assembled. "After a sleepless search, our intelligence has identified a target that we cannot afford to lose. As you all know, the majority of the funding and supplies that have allowed holdout groups to terrorize cities such as Whitworth in recent months has come from a single source: Skibereen. We've finally managed to trace most of these funds back to a single man: one Djredj Krryn. Mr. Krryn is a Rotyrrgardt financier, and in the past year has managed to route nearly $800 million worth of funds and supplies to Republican holdout groups across the North. We cannot allow this to continue."

As Gable spoke, most of the men in the room silently agreed. One, though, calmly posed a question.

"I'm sure we've ruled out any diplomatic solutions, sir. Why, though, is this the only option? Wouldn't it be better to simply fight the Republicans at home, rather than risk kidnapping or killing a foreign national in his own country?"

Gable paused for only a moment before replying, his battle-hardened face not giving off any emotion, "had you not been on the same plane with me back from Taffy last night, Walt, I'd be furious that you haven't briefed yourself on the whole situation. Taking that into account, though, and the fact that we'll need your tech skills on this operation, I may as well make sure you and everyone else here knows the extent of this situation. Yes, most of the backing for the Republicans is coming from abroad, but that doesn't mean these groups are helpless by themselves. In fact, we have reason to believe that the last surviving SPARTANs are involved in several of the most active organizations. If we started to gain the upper hand here, they'd just head deeper underground. By attacking their support, we at least have a chance of starving them out."

Satisfied with the answer, Walt nodded. After making sure that there were no more questions, Gable dismissed the men.

"You'll receive your supplies, and mission briefs, en route. Do the Emperor proud, but do keep in mind that if this all goes to hell, you've never even heard of Gordonopia."

---

To: Council of Nine, The Armed Republics of the Three isles of Skibereen
From: Jonathon Dunn, Empire of United Gordonopia
Subject: Re: Re:Fynndjall Support of Terrorist Organizations
Restriction: Maximum

---

Dear Honored Councillors,

I thank you for your cooperation, and pray that you may be able to do all that is within your power to prevent further animosity between our two nations.

---

Sincerely,

Jonathon Dunn
Arbitrator of Foreign Affairs

[Skibereen]

Rotyrrgardt, Skibereen
Cumberland Docks

Devon Hirst had been working these docks for going on fifteen years, his round face and thick frame were known to all who frequented this place, from the ships captains bringing freight in or taking it out, to the women who provided services that sailors had sought since time immemorial. Devon was the Dockmaster, nothing happened here without his consent, and more importantly nothing happened here with a penny or two finding its way to his pocket. To those who knew how to read such things it would be clear he was of the Black-Eyes Clan, and so were about ninety percent of the workers.

Criminals and Lawmen alike bent their knee on these docks, hard men one and all worked here, and they depended on Devon to ensure that bit of supplemental income. A primary source of that supplemental income was human trafficking, people from all over the world would sneak into Skibereen(not because of strict immigration but because they wanted to official record leading whoever might be looking), as well those criminals in Skibereen who had become outlaws would pay anything (usually) to escape to just about anywhere else. Devon, and his connections made this possible.

Tonight was an exceptional pay-off for him and his boys. A group of eight individuals coming in, needing transport, a local guide who wouldnt ask questions, and transport out(to add to the expense, transport available anytime over the next three days), as well as weapons and other gear. Obviously someone hiding in Skibereen failed to hide well enough(this wasnt uncommon) and thus people were coming to settle a score.

0234 Local Time
Bulk Freighter Just my luck a USPA flagged vessel made port to unload containers at the Cumberland Docks.
Fourty-five minutes passed as containers were shifted around the yard, among the work Devon located his eight tourists.

Papers had already been prepared, they would be Stevidian's on holiday if they were challenged (which was unlikely) with appropriate documentation(so long as no one looked too deeply into the information). Devon met the fit clean cut men, just as he expected them to look. He was shirtless and his tattoos and scars displayed his station this would of course mean nothing to these people, but then it wasnt for them. A young man accompanied him, Duris Devon's young cousin would drive them into Rotyrrgardt proper, show them around as was requested, put them up in a hostel that asked less question than Devon did...he would also give them the contact information for the man to provide the gear they had required...no questions asked besides the size of budget.

Duris himself clearly had less ink than Devon or many of the men the Tourists had seen at the docks.
He made conversation enough for all nine people in the van, he explained that the local maps were useless, government policy made accurate maps illegal. The man riding in the front seat with Duris was able to note the disturbing lack of street signs, even in the city. Duris explained that during the troubles it was common to strip signs from roads and addresses from buildings so as to confuse opposing factions, and during the Fyreheart-Ferrussian war the lack of accurate maps, and the laughable habit of farmers to literally move country roads, or dead end them, or create false roads for aerial recon to make errors of had all become common practice. It meant that all over Skibereen guides were prized as skilled tradesman because they had to stay update on all the possible changes. Duris however was already advised to drive them around and familiarize them with the area...while real tourists may not be aware of the paranaoia in Skibereen with regards to invasion it was a known secret in Greater Dienstad military communities-- so these Tourists knew they had to be at least mildly acquainted with the area.

The city itself was huge, and even at 0330 in the morning it bustled with activity, massive apartment blocs loomed on both sides of the street, small patches of grass like miniature parks would hold a spattering of people eating and cooking over open fires, like camping in an urban jungle.

The heat was oppressive, and it was clear that blending as a local would be nigh impossible as tattooing was more prevalent than any briefing had made clear.

Duris had stopped to make a call to arrange the meeting for the men about their gear, and had also purchased food the people--an exceedingly friendly young man. Those who passed the van as they were parked and saw the stranger's face all waved and smiled, these people all seemed to be exceedingly friendly. This again would fall back to the briefing, culturally Fynndjalls(as they called themselves) were obligated by customary laws to treat travelers well, it seemed they took this seriously. The team also knew it meant likely the other parts of their customary they took seriously as well, which meant anyone they encountered should be treated as a threat, violence was endemic to this culture as much as hospitality was.

Duris dropped them at the hostel where they would begin their mission proper, before the sun rose they had met with and acquired the instruments of their craft.

The target Djredj Krryn, would be easiest hit at his home before he left for his offices, the decision was made to observe him this morning and strike the next, this would leave another day should the first effort need to be aborted ... it was time to work.

[United Gordonopia]

Cumberland Docks, Rotyrrgardt, Skibereen

It had almost been, no, it had been a disaster. The original goal was been simple: get in, grab the target, get out. In a nation like Skibereen, the first part had been simple, and even the third part was going smoothly smoothly. The second, most important phase had been where the whole operation had gone to hell.

Earlier that morning, the small team of eight Arbitrat of Force operatives had infiltrated the apartment of Djredj Krryn, a Rotyrrgardt-based businessman who in recent months had been the primary financier of Republican terrorist groups in Gordonopia. Diplomatic attempts to stop the flow of arms and cash had been, and would continue to be, fruitless. Force was the only option.

Caught by surprise, Krryn proved to be an easy catch; his basic security measures were easily bypassed, and he was able to put up no real fight. The misstep happened as Krryn was being dragged out to the van waiting outside the building. One of the team members, Iljr Kaan, had instinctively drawn his weapon as Krryn made a last minute attempt to escape, intending only to intimidate. What he got instead was a hail of gunfire from the surrounding buildings. Kaan had violated one of Skibereens most deadly rules: don't draw a weapon during school bus hours.

Though the team leader, Garret Hoffman, managed to get Krryn in the car along with himself and most of the team, Kaan had been hit twice. In the chaos of bullets, Hoffman was forced to make the difficult, but necessary, choice: leave Kaan behind. As with any deniable operation conducted by the AoF, none of the men carried anything that could be linked to Gordonopia. Hopefully Kaan still had the capacity to end the life of the only thing that could.

"Sir, the dockmaster's heading this way."

This news from the team's driver pulled Hoffman out of his reflection. Just days ago, the dockmaster had helped smuggle the team from a freighter into Skibereen. Tonight, he would help them get out. Hopefully, their additional cargo wouldn't prove to be a problem.

---

Imperial Palace, Willingham, United Gordonopia
Three Weeks Later

How had it come to this? Just as a new dawn seemed to be arriving for the Empire, night had come again. In front of Emperor William Raleigh VII was a proclamation that would thrust the nation into the oncoming darkness: a Declaration of Blockade on the Armed Republics of the Three isles of Skibereen. With it, Gordonopia would take its final step short of war. Without it, it was only a matter of time before night arrived on its own.

As he sat contemplating the piece of paper on his old oak desk, Raleigh was silent. The order itself was drafted. The fleets were mobilizing. The stroke of a pen would set the Gordonopian war machine in motion. All that was left was for the old man, the old soldier, to sign his name on a line. A knock on the door would only delay the inevitable.

"Come in," Raleigh said softly. A moment later, the tall doors at the end of the office opened carefully and High Admiral Frederick von Keittel wandered in. "Frederick," Raleigh began in response, "precisely the man I wished to speak with."

"Your majesty," the admiral replied as he took a seat.

The faint smile on Raleigh's face was all too familiar with von Keittel; he knew how the Emperor preferred to be called by his own name when he was among his closest friends. It was simply habit born from a cause the admiral had devoted his entire life to that kept him from using 'Will', or even 'William'.

"I suppose you haven't signed it yet?"

"No, I haven't. I was just reflecting. This war could be our end."

Von Keittel gave a grim nod before continuing, "yes, it certainly could. But it is one that we must fight. Besides, it's not war we're declaring, it's only a blockade."

Raleigh's expression indicated that he knew, just as Keittel did, that it wouldn't be 'only a blockade' for long. With relations between Gordonopia and Skibereen as tense as they had become, any deployment of forces was tantamount to the big declaration.

"Well, it has to happen. Since the raid, the situation has only gotten worse. Support from Skibereen has increased several fold, the attacks in the North have intensified, hell, we're now getting reports that a few northern villages have been completely occupied by the Republicans. We've declared martial law in two provinces, and two full field armies have been deployed to the region. There's nothing more we can do at home, cutting off support at the source is our last option to keep the nation from falling back into Civil War."

As the situation was placed before him once again, Raleigh closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. When he looked up again, a sense of acceptance had come over him. "You're right," he stated firmly. Calmly, he removed his pen from a holder on the desk, and carefully etched his signature onto the declaration. Night moved ever closer.

---

Continued support by the people of Skibereen for radical terrorists in United Gordonopia, coupled with apathy on the part of the Fynndjall leadership, has left the Empire with no other choice but this:

On this day, May 4, in the Year of our Lord two thousand twelve, I, Emperor William Raleigh the Seventh, hereby declare the existence of a blockade by the Empire of United Gordonopia on the Armed Republics of the Three isles of Skibereen.

Upon the arrival of United Gordonopian naval vessels to the waters surrounding Skibereen, the following restrictions shall be in effect:

No ship departing from Skibereen on a course for the Empire or of its territories shall be permitted to enter international waters

No ship bearing armaments and other war materials out of Skibereen shall be permitted to enter international waters

Any ship entering international waters from Skibereen shall be subject to inspection by the Navy of the Empire of United Gordonopia

Any attack on ships maintaining the blockade of Skibereen shall be investigated and, if necessary, viewed as an act of war

---

Signed,

William Raleigh VII
Emperor of the Empire of United Gordonopia

[Skibereen]

Obligation Hall, New Dublynn Skibereen
0345 - Emergency Session

In addition to the council members were three uniformed officers of the Armed Forces of the Republics.
Marshall of the Armm, Kalder Hallysten, the highest ranking officer of the ground forces of Skibereen. A short tree stump of a man, who seemed to always have thin layer of sweat on him regardless of the temperature and always seemed to be out of breath, though he never slowed down, and evidently never slept as he was clean shaven, his uniform was a smart as it could be, his shoes had a high shine, and cold blue eyes were as sharp at 0345 as they were at high noon.

Marshal of the Ludj Vedjters, Berret Mangusson, Mangusson was a the epitome of the aged pilot, he was lean, his eyes were wide and dark, he himself seemed avian in his features, his thin lips pursed tight as he listened to the council. He himself was still quietly and slowly straightening his uniform, and eventually as the meeting continued just gave up...eyeing Hallysten up and down periodically and shaking his head.

Grand Herre Mushyrr of the Armada, Mykaal O'Buuka, was not in uniform at all, but rather still in his sleeping clothes(all the men to told to report to the council immediately, and 0345, immediately means immediately) O'Buuka had obviously been the first to arrive. While out of his uniform the square of his shoulders and his straight backed posture left him appearing as dignified and martial as if he was sitting in full dress with a chest of medals. His skin was black as night, the scars on his face precise and symmetric (to give him the appearance of a crocodile, fitting for his career) he was wide at the shoulder and taller than anyman in the room, at sixty years of age it wouldnt be a surprise to see him easily over power the council guards in a physical contest, he was Bedou tribe Wadi-Rum Muslim(very common in the Armada) a people known for their composure and strangely their pacifist nature. O'Buuka was the first Grand Herre Mushyrr to come up from among the ranks of Armada Infantry, as such the relationship between the Armm and the Armada had grown extremely close.
The national press never missed a chance to snap a comical photo of the service leaders together.

This morning had not been a moment for comical matters, and visual height jokes.



The respective ranking officers of the Armed Services were notified, as well Rutgaard Vaavrydrr head of the "Unity Society"(Skibereen Sovereign Security Service), the deepest darkest dankest sect of the Skibereen Intelligence Services.
He much like Hallysten was sharp, in fit black suit, close cropped grey hair, he looked bright eyed and acutely alert. As the Spymaster it is really expected this would be his appearance however it made it no less disturbing.

Frederick O'Murchadha had been first to receive a copy of the missive from the Gordonopian monarchy.
The other council members were awakened with with their own copies to be perused as they came to the Emergency meeting at Obligation Hall.

As the Heads of the respective services were briefed(though Vaavrydrr was already fully briefed) the various members of the council mad phone calls to various other government offices and staff members. Omurchadha held a steady and clinical tone and when he finished explaining the situation he gave the men an opportunity to put their own apparatus to work as the other councilmen were doing. Then he would continue with the meeting.

As the men in the room began gathering data and waiting for more information to accumulate the discussion began. Or rather Frederick O'Murchadha began to speak.

"We are now in a strange position, O'Buuka has briefed me already on the known sea assets of Gordonopia, known as we know them, which I must confess is of woefully limited information. That they are roughly at parity with our forces and Blockade if expected to be effective would require a sizable commitment of their forces, this is not to say I am assuming they will not make this commitment, but rather that such a commitment speaks not of a blockade, but of an aggressive military action being veiled as a blockade. O'Buuka, Vaavrydrr, and myself agree that this present action is indeed not a static position but merely a stepping point. A point from which a full scale attack may be lodged against what must be viewed by a monarchy as the most sympathetic republican nation in the region.

I am however reluctant to escalate this to a firing war without input from all of you, though please bear in mind, it is within my discretionary powers to do so unilaterally as a threat to national commerce is deemed a threat to the security and sovereignty of the Republics.

to that end, I am invoking the 1963 War Powers Act, and assuming my role as Commander in Chief of the Armed services, the council will vote on who will take the position of the Grand Marshall of the Armed Forces, until the official designation has been leveled O'Buuka will begin preparing an operational plan of action for the Armada, and he will coordinate with Marshal Magnusson for utilization of ready and available air assets to begin protection operations of our territorial waters, the waters in the contiguous economic zone, and assets in international waters."

_________________________
Rotyrrgardt, Skibereen, Undisclosed Location-(the Morning of the Abduction of Krryn)

Kaan had unfortunately or fortunately(depending on who was asked) been unable to take his own life. He had been taken initially by Order Enforcement Officers who had been in the neighborhood that morning and responded to the gun fire. However upon seeing an armed foreigner, and the frantic ranting of a housekeeper who found the home of noted local business man Krryn in disarray and eye witnesses reporting seeing a man fitting his description forced into a van and sped away, the OEFs had decided to turn Kaan over to the "Cousins" in the area("Cousins" is the nickname of the O'Murchadha Clan of which Krryn is a member, the largest Clan by total numbers in Skibereen) Kaan injured offered little resistance once it was established he would not get away, and he would only be beaten, not shot for his efforts to attempt it. being bound hand and foot, also made any additional resistance rather futile.

As he awoke from his blood loss, and beatings, he could feel the taught sensation of a dressings on his wounds, he was also greatly disturbed by the unflattering position he was secured in, arms and legs splayed out making him a man sized X, underneath him a large round object holding him pelvis lifted ass in the air in some bondage version of the downward dog.

He felt like he was in this stressed position forever, which obviously he was supposed to feel.

Finally he heard a door open from behind him(rather cliche he thought to himself, he steeled his mind for whatever was about to come).

A voice in English(but with a heavy accent) "Good morning, Im glad you are awake on your own I was worried I would need to rouse you. " Kaan saw a slender man of indeterminate age walk around into his field of vision where he sat a case down gingerly onto a waiting table.

the man removed some gloves and a bottle and cotton and began dabbing an antiseptic solution on Kaan's superficial injuries he received from his last attempt at resistance.

"Dont worry, Im a real doctor, no backwoods country medicine."

The man stripped his gloves and produced another bottle, hand sanitizer.

"Now I need to explain somethings to you. First, you are not in a police station, or military establishment. Everyone here are private citizens. Including myself. Given what appears to be the case I cant be sure if you have been briefed on the social structures of Skibereen but suffice it to say everyone here can be called extended family for lack of a better term. You and your friends have taken part of my extended family..."

The man's smile never wavered but this was all the more disturbing as he continued

"As that is the case, you must consider what you would do if someone came into your home and took a member of your family" still smiling, still the same even light chatter, like a doctor talking to a six year old.

"Now my family want to know why, and where you and your little friends have taken him, that is the primary reason I am here." He produced another set of gloves.

"I need you to understand somethings before I begin. Im a doctor, as I said. So I absolutely will not let you die, its not going to happen. I also will do everything in my power to avoid permanent physical injury, that is if you allow me to, if you hold out too long then I cant make any promises in that regard. I can as I said promise, you will not die, I will sustain you...for as long as it takes. Now most military train their soldiers to yield bits and pieces of information to help reduce the vigorous nature of certain interrogation techniques, this is done to delay for as long as possible so that any information gleaned will be likely too old to be really useful. Youre team is already gone, we arent going to catch them now. So really there is not harm in telling me why, and where when I ask you. But dont worry, Im not asking just yet. I just want you too keep that little fact in mind, keep in mind Im going to give some free additional time not to answer any questions at all."

He reaches into his bag and produces a leather strap similar to restraints Kaan has seen in films used to restrain the jaw for electroshock.

"You see, Im going to gag you so that even if you want to, even if you want to tell me everything you have ever known ...you cant. I find this is the most expedient way to establish a relationship based on mutual respect. My respect for your training, and your respect for me as a man of my word.

Please also understand, we are going to spend today establishing that I can create a level of suffering the likes of which your trainers never dreamed. See, what people rarely realize is it the simple pain which is the most durable. We will begin with something I find wonderfully sublime in its simplicity, in its exquisite pain creation, and in the fact that it rarely leaves any lasting trace. A classic for over a thousand years..." The man produces a small box from his case, which opens revealing a set of about 2 dozen needles.

"Now lets see those feet..."

[Skibereen]

OFFICIAL MISSIVE OF THE GOVERNMENT OF THE ARMED REPUBLICS OF THE THREE ISLES OF SKIBEREEN
Statement issued in writing, telecast over international television- read by Frederick O'Murchadha, Head of the Council of Nine, Esteemed Blood Chieftain, rightly appointed President of the Nation.


"I am loathe to announce that myself, and the rest of the council have been informed that Warships will begin making forced inspections of private merchant vessels making way under our nation's flag.

That hard working men and women will under the threat of violence be deprived of their rights of free travel, have their livelihood threatened and indeed place there very lives at risk for doing nothing, but what our people have done since time immemorial.

Across the waves, a nation struggles with its own internal conflict, it is in the throws of revolution. As a nation we have remained neutral, but each man makes his own choices. On each heart is burned what is right and just, and loathsome and deplorable. So with that inherent knowledge he takes whatever actions he deems righteous. Many of my fellow Fynndjalls have made such a choice, and chosen a side in this foreign conflict, and there is no wrong doing in the compassion and concern for their fellow men.

Because of this choice, and because of the support shown for those struggling to breath free, and live right, because of this struggle to shake the yokes of bondage of greedy oligarchy, of elitist rule, of lordship...of the support to make all men rich or poor young and old, of any ethnicity or origin a sovereign in his own right and being, aggression has been brought to our door step.

Over a week ago I read a missive requesting that foreign laws be imposed upon the citizens of Skibereen, that foreign values be placed above the values that bind us all together as a people and to do this for the sake of aiding in the propping up of alleged nobility. A nobility that makes war upon its own people. I said , A nobility that makes war upon its own people.
Hardly noble by the standards of the lowest man to call this land his birthplace.

Of course we declined.

A choice, each member of the Council made. A righteous realization that a line must be drawn, a point must be made where free men do not bend knee and knuckle forehead to imagined greatness and faux elite.

Now the Empire...the Empire, Empire of Gordonopia has proclaimed a right to apply its laws upon our nation.
No surprise it is Empire with guns at the door of a people who rebuke the trappings to tyranny in all its forms.

No king has ever ruled the Fynndjall people, no Emperor has ever yoked the men and women of the Marks.

None ever will.

I announce today that the Armada will not be baited into an unwanted war, but they will escort our good peoples in the course of exercising their right to earn a living. They will defend the common men and women of this nation with more fervor and zeal than they would defend me and my office, as they should. They will jealously rally round the people who whose freedom they represent.

And also let it be known that the Armed Republic of the Three Isles of Skibereen, land of Fynndjalls, safe ports of the Seabattlers for over a thousand years does recognize the legitimate state of the Republic of United Gordonopia and its states seeking freedom from the shackles of Empire.

We shall never bow and scrap for the lords of foreign lands who lacking the just support of their own people would seek to quell them through violence and to use violence against those who seek to take up the cause of freedom.

I say today, defiance in the tyranny is the only position a Fynndjall may take.

We have always danced in the places angels fear to tread, it will not be so easy to stand on our backs Emperor to prop up your false government, your reach has exceeded your grasp."

Details of the government response include a massive mobilization of the Armada assets, as well as the Air Armm.
Though hundreds of vessels will be leaving Skibereen waters well before the support of the Armada is available.
It has been advised that vessels without escorts are to be compliant in the face of foreign aggression, for the safety of the crew.

[United Gordonopia]

The reckoning had finally arrived. Darkness clouded the horizon. The great ships, numbers uncountable, departed their harbors. Sailors, young and old, manned the mighty works of steel. Guns loaded, rockets readied, aircraft fueled. Ships destined to meet an ancient foe. Perhaps they would never return.

Over the horizon, the dreaded beast: War. Torn from its ancient slumber. Slowly moving ever closer. His wrath has toppled nations, breathed terror into the heart man. He was not yet in sight, but moved closer, ever closer.

The great ships set sail for the beast itself. He was their goal, their final destination. Man built their hulls, cast their armor, forged their guns for a single purpose: to confront War head on. The journey continues, obstacles still remain. But War shall come.

---

INS Bolsom, 100 km Outside Skibereen Territorial Waters

How far the Empire had progressed. Only six years ago, Admiral Joseph Stahl had been awestruck as the first freighter left the port of, at the time, Gordonopia's newest possession: the Northern Beatusian Isles. The fact that Gordonopia had even managed to look beyond the mainland with the War of Restoration still in its final days had amazed him. Now he stood in command of an entire fleet, one of the chosen leaders of the Empires first full-scale military action. As he stood on the deck of his Ark Royal class flagship, he couldn't help but look out in wonder.

Quickly, though, he shifted his attention to the task at hand. Charged with maintaining the leg of the Blockade of Skibereen between the metropolises of O'Murchadha City and Rotyrrgardt, Stahl's 7th fleet, along with a sizable force of attached submarines, had a huge job ahead of them.

Turning from the deck windows, Stahl marched briskly to the ship's communications hub. The Lieutenant in charge looked up expectantly, and Stahl responded with a simple nod. Moments later, the commanders of every ship under him were on a secure communication.

"This is it, gentlemen," he began, "We have made this long journey for the sake of our nation, and today we fulfill our duty. Our duty not simply as officers and as sailors, but as Gordonopians, as loyal subjects of the crown we fought so hard to restore. The government of Skibereen has sat idly by as its people, a people whose leaders have the duty to protect, but also to restrain, have thrown their support behind the rebels, no, the terrorists, who seek to glorify a lost cause, and in doing so destroy all that we have worked so hard to build."

Over the line, Stahl could hear murmurs of agreement, and the sound only encouraged him further. He took a deep breath, before continuing forcefully.

"We will not allow this to happen! As we deploy our mighty fleet, know that that all of this is for the greater good. The good of God! The good of Empire! The good of Gordonopia! Now, go forth. Go forth and bring glory. Go forth in the name of heaven. Go forth as Gordonopians, and show the world that the unity of our empire shall never fail! Dismissed!"

As the connection ended, applause helped ease the feeling that Stahl might have overdone it. After all, he wasn't Admiral Hoffer on the eve of the Key Landings; the action at hand was simply a blockade. Nevertheless, a pre-battle speech had been the duty of any Gordonopian commander since before history could recall, and this blockade was already the single largest deployment of forces the Empire had yet undertaken. The fact that many at High Command had already assumed that war was inevitable only added to the feeling.

As he considered his theatrics further, Stahl wandered over to the fleet control center to monitor his vessels as they separated. Because the 7th fleet was tasked with covering such a wide area, it was necessary to maintain a wide deployment. The priority, of course, was the two major ports, and the areas along the routes to their large harbors would each be covered by a pair of Ark Royals, supplemented by a sizable force of surface vessels. The remaining carriers, a single Ark Royal and a pair of County helo-carriers, would patrol the border along Skibereen's territorial waters along with their escorts. When any of these forces encountered a vessel either bound for South Western Greater Dienstad, or one potentially carrying armaments, the frigates and destroyers of the fleet would intercept and investigate, while the larger vessels provided support, logistics, and intimidation.

Supplementing the surface vessels, though, was an unusually large detachment of Archer class subs. The 7th's 25 attached boats were supplemented by an additional 50 gathered from fleets throughout the Navy. Rather than patrol and bottle, as the surface vessels would be doing, the majority of the submarines would provide the teeth of the blockade. Upon reaching their scattered deployments, they would go dark, and only receive, but not transmit, signals. If any incident were to occur, be it a rogue merchant skipper choosing to dodge the fleet or a hostile navy choosing to make trouble, the Archers would be ready.

As Admiral Stahl watched the fleet slowly spread apart, he was gradually filled with a sense of intense anticipation. With his fleet and four other moving into position, it was almost as if a great chess board was being set. Gordonopia had just made the first move, and it was up to its opponent, to Skibereen, to respond. From there, it was only a matter of time. Eventually, the first piece would fall, and in the end, only one would remain. All Stahl could do was hope that that surviving king would be William Raleigh.

[Morrdh]

Commonwealth of Morrdh

News of the Gordonopian blockade provoked a reaction amongst the Mordentish community within Morrdh, a fair number of them had distant relatives in Skibereen who shared a common Celtic heritage. It was the militants in Mordent, who'd given the Commonwealth no end of trouble in a decade long civil war against the slavic Norgorkans who also called Mordent home, who shifted into gear and planned a course of action. Volunteers would be called for to aid their Skibereen cousins, though it wouldn't be easy to achieve given that they were monitored by the Commonwealth Intelligence Services and bringing weapons with them was out of the question. So in the various staunch Mordentish pubs and working men's clubs word went out for volunteers and to raise funds, favours were called in to make arrangements to get the Mordentish Volunteers out to Skibereen.

Over the coming weeks they would head out in dips and drabs in staggered groups to avoid raising attention to themselves, money had been paid into a number of bank accounts to help cover this. By air and by sea they would cross the region, uncertain what to expect once they arrived. At the other end in Skibereen contacts were being sought and arrangements made as money worked its way through various different bank accounts into Skibereen hands to ensure their Mordentish cousins were properly equipped once they arrived.

[Questers]

Diplomatic Statement - General Social Republic of Questers

In the strongest of terms available, the General Social Republic and the Common Good condemns the blockade of the sovereign republics of Skibereen and insists immediately on the withdrawal of Gordonopian naval forces. As ever, the imperialism of the Emperors, the arrogance of the Kings, drags the people of the world into the flames of war. The Republic refuses to stand idly by as an Emperor, who's claim to a title is not recognised by any free citizen in the world, aggresses against as free and sovereign people as can be found anywhere.

The common aims and the common benefits of the people of Questers and of Skibereen are intertwined in the resistance of humanity against barbarism, of the right of nations to trade freely and to control their own borders, and the right of people to congregate and rule themselves without Royal Assent. As we stand in solidarity with the Armed Republics and pledge ourselves to their defence, as they would ours under the defence agreement of the Commonwealth of Pluralistic States, we issue the following notice to the Government of Gordonopia.

That any Questarian-flagged vessel that intends to enter port in Skibereen will be allowed to do so freely and without molestation, that the Gordonopian Navy does not have the legal right to fire upon any Questarian-flagged vessel, and that an attack or seizure of any Questarian-flagged vessels will be taken as an act of hostility against the General Social Republic and its peoples, and that any action against a Questarian-flagged merchantman is piracy.

We hope that the Imperialists will reconsider their operational goals.

Foreign Secretary M. E. Muster

The merchantman Principal Saffashire received the message without very much elation, for the nearest Questarian warship from her 30,000 bottles of Caspian Castle Black Label deluxe whisky was several thousand kilometres away, and she was on approach to Skibereen, without hostile warships patrolling all around. If possible, the Captain would do his patriotic duty and bring his ship into port, but, he thought as he scrunched up his cap and looked out over the waves: but, I don't have any guns. Duty extends to the ability to resist and anything more is, well, futile.

[Skibereen]

Raven Island Naval Reservation, Skibereen

Grand Herre Mushyrr O'Buuka(G.H.Mus) arrived at RINR a few hours after the meeting at Obligation Hall, because the nation was not yet in a state of war the council was still deliberating over appointing the Official Grand Marshall of the Armed Forces. Thus the issue of a Naval blockade still fell under the department of the Armada, and thus was O'Buuka's problem. He would be expected to coordinate with the Air Arm of the Armm.

The 2nd Fleet was dispatched out to USPA on manuevers, the 4th and 5th Fleets were outside the region on extra-regional patrol, elements of the 6th and 8th fleets were in port or dry docked for servicing, leaving the 1st, 3rd, 7th and 9th fleets to deploy for defending the free movement of Fynndjall ships...O'Buuka of course knew what he was really determining was what ships were available for war.

He assesed the ongoing incoming intelligence and was considering his options. The present top tier intelligence said the same thing civilian publications said, Skibereen and Gordonopia were (doctrines aside) at almost complete naval parity. This however lended itself to the side of the defender, shorter supply lines, force concentration, land based assets had effect on the battle space. Yes, these were bonues, of curse they were also not entirely in line with Armada doctrine, of course that doctrine applied to war, not a blockade. O'Buuka was formulating warplans not resistance plans, he couldnt help it, he knew what the inevitable outcome here was going to be, only what it could be, a stand-off such as this doesnt end without bloody noses.

Jessica and Eva class patrol vessels were dispatched to immediately begin escorting Skibereen flagged vessels, however several dozen vessels had left port inspite of advisories to wait for escorts.

Satellite imagery and other intelligence sources left O'Buuka wanting for more information about the composition of the blockade, of course rarely does one know everything they want to know about the opponent across the board.

In the docks, and harbors across Skibereen warships began calling crewmen back from shore, the 3rd was first to make way for the edge of territorial waters, as they were actually assigned to Rapid reaction this time of year, thus Herre Mushyrr Fenynn commander of the 3rd fleet would be the first man to look the Gordonopian pirates in the eye(well discounting the men on the patrol vessels who are really going out naked).

3rd fleet, On board the SWS Sightblighter (Odin Class) - Flag Ship of the 3rd Fleet
Herre Mushyrr Fenynn stood in the CIC reviewing the incoming information and the position of his vessels and the out going merchants, their paths, likely paths of interception.

His second spoke "Here Mushyrr, I have to admit I am a bit perplexed by this move. they cant possibly believe this is an enforceable action, hell aside from the fact they are talking about over watching nearly a thousand ships, there are just as many merchant vessels in our fleet flagged under different nations. Not to mention, we are on equal terms. I'm baffled."

Fenynn rubbed his hand across his bald head and looked at the man "Frankly we havnt drilled for this, the idea of a nation blockading us was never floated, there is no precendent with this situation for us. We dont train for almost combat conditions, this is going to turn into a shooting war, or they are going to back down. So for now, we play for position. We play for position in an area that would normally be considered large, but in a short while there will be enough ships yuod be able to walk to Gordonopia from here...what a fucking mess."

___________________________________________________________________________________
Network television broadcast, trial, foreign national, Mr. Kahn
The scene opens in the First Court Hall of New Dublynn, nine Justices prosiding over the trial.

voice over "Recently a kidnapped business man named Djredj Krryn was abuducted from his home, eye wtinesses reported four to five individuals fleeing the scene. As luck would have it the attackers neglected to factor in the tenacity of Fynndjall mothers keeping watch over their children as they waited for the school bus. The ensuing fire fight forced the remaining assailents to flee, but retaining their captive. However Kahn was shot and captured by vigiliant neighborhood watchmen. In this inteesting turn of events Mr. Kahn appears to be of Gordonopian heritage, and has since refused to declare his national origin. However under questioning by the O'Murchadha Clan Watchmen he confessed to being both Gordonopian and part of team sent ot abduct the Business man, he however denies receiving orders from the Gordonopian monarchy. We go now to live testimony from the Dr. Bereth Kern the Clan interrogator ...

"As I said in my statement to the national police, after establishing a repoire with Mr. Kahn I utilized vigorous enhanced interrogation techniques. I do understand the rules of interrogation for military personnel, however I am a private citizen, and this man was clearly acting outside the law and not in uniform. Those two thing being the case I exercised my right, and my obligation to press for him for information which might serve to save a life, as a private citizen and member of Mr. Krryn's clan I am afforded a great amount of latitude in attempting to protect him. "

2nd Justice "reading the file doctor it appears your vigorous techniques are very akin to torture, thus the statements you obtained are exceedingly questionable in their veracity. I mean my goodness, you gagged the man so he couldnt speak to you for the first twenty-four hours, then you proceeded to insert fourty-eight fifty millimeter pins into the soles of the man's feet to a depth of twenty-five millimeters...one at a time.
And that is merely the introduction. Electricution, joint dislocation, you drilled his teeth for the love of all that is holy. I wouldve confessed to being rightful heir to the golden throne. What kind of doctor are you?"

1st Justice: "Id like to stop you here, while I agree that Dr. kern's methods are questionable, and doctor please believe me that the outcome of Mr. Kahn's trial may not be the end of this ordeal for you. Now, I would like to turn the attention to the defendant.

Mr. Kahn, I am told you have refused to speak since being brought into federal custody. Your oppointed advocate has made a fair case for you, but your lack of cooperation with this court leaves us with little room for sympathy.

You have offered no testimony, and discounting even what the doctor says, the number of witnesses wh place you at the seen, your obvious foreign appearence, the recent blockade of Skibereen by Gordonopia, the connection to financing MR. Kyrrn had with regards to the Republican movement in Gordonopia leaves little room at all for there to be any other findings than to assume you are indeed an agent of the Gordonopian Monarchy.

As the Monarchy at present denies such findings I have no choice but to inform you that this court has found you guilty, and that when we break for today, my fellow justices and I shall deliberate on the nature of your sentence.

Under normal circumstance we would trade you back for Mr. Kyrrn, however your nation has thus far denied both your existence, and denied holding Mr. Kyrrn...we can not deport you."

Mr Kahn "I have nothing to say."

5th Justice: "Very well then, we will break for today, and return tomorrow at 9am for sentencing. "

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On Board the SKS '[i]Better than Nothing' - skibereen flagged container ship[/i]

At just over 97000 gross tons and 338m in length the "Better than nothing" was no small tipper, indeed she was one of larger merchants, and like many Skibereen vessels she had rounds to make, not merely a single port destination.

She had been running to many ports for going on ten years, and her captain had been running cargo twice again as many years.
Captain Vylaak Moore, a stern man by Fynndjall standards, a man who followed the rules strictly, his rules, the old timers shipping rules.
He would run ships and crews hard, but he was renowned for getting the job done. To that end, his crews loved him, because being one of his meant good steady pay, Cpt. Moore was never out of work, even in the foreign ports he was given work.

So when Cpt. Moore said do it, it was done, without question.

"Boyo, run the mess round to the men at their stations, then bring back a handle of the waters its going to be a long night. "

A young man bobbed his head and disappeared from the bridge.

"Captain, are you sure about not wiating for a proper escort? i mean we are talking about a Naval blockade, and its not like they wont see us."

"An escort? wait? Im sorry perhaps you arent the man who served the last five years with me. So I must say 'Pleased to meet you' I am Vylaak Moore I fellow among fellows in the Black-Eyes, and I do not wait for men on land to tell me what to do at sea. As a matter of fact, I do not wait for anyone. Men wait on me, and by my trade thye wait not one second more than heaven dictates. So unless that's a halo under your cap...Im nah fucking wait'n and let some damned politician's lapdog come nipping at my heels becuase unless his ass has a port of call on it that is listed on my bills of laiden Im nah fucking stop'n either."

[United Gordonopia]

Imperial High Command, Gordonopia City

"...Finally, we've instigated a full scale crackdown on black market suppliers throughout the Empire. This, along with our efforts at sea against Skibereen and in our own waters, will hopefully cut off the rebels from the supplies they'll need to continue the fight. Are there any questions gentlemen?"

Across the High Command Strategic Planning Room, there were only low murmurs of discussion. The plan of action for tightening the noose around the neck of the Republican holdouts in the north had already been outlined fairly clearly, and General Mjirn Sine's summary was only a reminder of the arrangements already in place. Seeing this, the General started for his seat. As he settled in, High Admiral Frederick von Keittel stood to change the direction of the meeting.

"With that out of the way, then, I think it's time we turn our attention to more... distant affairs. As I'm sure you've all been informed, our blockade of Skibereen is now fully deployed and has begun screening vessels. The question at hand, then, is where we go from here. We already have several contingencies in place for a variety of situations, of course, but there are some unexpected matters to address. I think we should start with some of the disturbing intelligence we're receiving out of Morrdh. The government itself has made no official response, however it seems that once again, those who have the responsibility to keep their people under control have failed in their divine task. Arbitrator Menekr, you have the floor."

Nodding as he rose, the hawkish Arbitrator of Truth, Alborn Menekr began to outline the situation.

"Thank you, Admiral. Over the past weeks, we've been gathering intelligence that suggests that citizens of Morrdh have been organizing, often under the table, and traveling to Skibereen as volunteer soldiers. We don't yet have any solid numbers, but..."

The conversation continued for nearly twenty minutes, and in the end came to a fairly unexciting conclusion. A closed missive would be sent to the leadership of the Commonwealth of Morrdh, and any other nations believed to be hotspots of Fynndjall support, stating simply that any man, woman or child taking aggressive aggressive action against or interfering with the operations of the Armed Forces of the Empire of United Gordonopia would be punished appropriately, and those with no legal backing would be treated as a 'soldier without flag', a Gordonopian term that carried a similar stigma to that of a rebel or terrorist.

Following that discussion, the men assembled turned their attention to the numerous non-Fynndjall vessels leaving and entering the waters of Skibereen, most notably those of Questers. After some disagreement, it was decided that a direct communique was necessary, and nations would be informed that unless their ships were carrying armaments or other banned materials out of Skibereen, they would not be harmed. For now, as the blockade was instituted with the stated goal of preventing Fynndjall support of Republicans in Gordonopia, goods entering Skibereen would not be restricted, though the ships would still be remotely tracked. If things escalated, though, a new policy would certainly be made.

At the conclusion of this final debate, the men convened were preparing to depart. Just before they were dismissed, however, Emperor Raleigh fielded an unexpected question.

"Gentlemen," he began, "what are we going to do about our boy in Skibereen? Kahn, isn't it?"

Low whispers permeated the conference, along with several confused glances. Finally, Admiral von Keittel decided to answer the question.

"Your majesty, we were forced to make the painful decision to disavow Mr. Kahn. Every man in that unit was a volunteer, and they knew the risks of the mission. They were all willing to accept the consequences of capture."

The Emperor was silent for a moment, and seemed to be almost zoned out. Finally, though, he snapped to a response. "What a shame. I'm sure he was a fine man. The damned savages seem to have turned his trial into some kind of media circus. Anyways, I suppose you're all dismissed."

With that, the group stood to give a salute before departing from the room. In the adjacent hall, Arbitrator Jonathon Dunn, head of the Arbitrat of Diplomacy, pulled Admiral von Keittel aside.

"Frederick, how did William not yet know about the Kahn disavowment?" he asked up front.

Von Keittel hesitated, and let out a deep breath. "Jonathon, he did. I briefed him on the decision yesterday when we were discussing the domestic situation in Skibereen."

Having already assumed that to be the case, Dunn felt the need to press further, "then what the hell was that? He ends a top-level strategy meeting by asking about a captured Arbitrat agent? A question he should have already known the answer to?"

Seeing legitimate concern in Dunn's eye, Keittel replied the only way he could think of. "For God's sake, Jonathon, the man's almost 70 years old. Think of what he's been doing for the past few weeks, for the past few years? You can't expect him to remember every minor topic of discussion. Besides, you know how much he gets engaged at the individual level. Hell, your position exists because he wanted an individual contact with every element of the government. On top of that, I can assure you that he's more than capable of handling this situation. He may be old, but William Raleigh isn't a man to simply grow old and feeble."

"You don't think-"

"No, I don't. Now, if you would excuse me, I have a teleconference with Admiral Goss of the 12th fleet."

As he left Arbitrator Dunn in the hall, Keittel tried to put the conversation out of his mind. It wasn't as if this was a reoccurring behavior for Raleigh. Hell, he couldn't think of another time this ever happened. For now, he would just have to hope that it was simply a... what was the phrase? A senior... a senior moment. He could only hope.

---

INS Bolsom, 5 km Outside Skibereen Territorial Waters

So far, so good. For the short duration of the blockade, there had been no trouble. The few ships that had chosen to venture out as the Skibereen Armada attempted to prepare escorts had all submitted to inspections, with only a few minor disagreements. Much to the surprise of Admiral Joseph Stahl, everything seemed to be going better than expected. For now, at least, he only had two worries.

The first, of course, was that some foolish captain would fail to heed to common sense, and would attempt to ignore the blockade. That event had, of course, been planned for. Prop lines could always be released to stop a rouge captain, and in the worst case scenario, a warning, or even wounding, shot could be fired. To be quite frank, it was the non-civilian response that had Stahl worried.

The five fleets deployed to Skibereen were certainly a sizable force. As a matter of fact, they were the largest single naval deployment since the end of the War of Restoration. That didn't mean, however, that they would be able to stand toe to toe with the entire Fyndjall Armada. While the Gordonopian and Fyndjall navies would likely obliterate each other in a full-on fight, the five fleets, only a fraction of the Imperial Navy, couldn't hope to stand up to the entire Fyndjall force. Even with a sizable chunk of its overall strength out on deployment, the Armada severely outnumbered the blockade's vessels in every area save attack submarines. Although the Armada was not yet mobilized, it would only be a matter of time.

Thinking this over, Admiral Stahl decided to contact High Command. Hopefully, the mobilization of reinforcements was going smoothly. When he had last checked in, a fairly significant force was being organized. Hopefully, actual deployment was nearing. If not, well, the 7th Fleet could be in for one hell of a fight.

---

INS John Francis King

"Captain, we've got a new target headed our way. Freighter. Big one by the looks of it. Can't find any data about the cargo."

Hearing this, Captain John Watts rushed to the other end of his Hatchet Class Frigate's CIC. Although it wasn't the first ship the King had had to investigate during the blockade, every contact needed to be taken seriously.

"Lieutenant, any other information you can gather?"

Furiously, the young operations officer scanned his terminal for intelligence, taking a fair amount of time to reply.

"Well, sir, it's registered as a Skibereen vessel under the name 'Better than Nothing'. From what I gather, she's well over 90,000 tonnes... yeah, about 98,000 tonnes. Maybe a decade old. Other than that, not much I can find."

"Thank you Lieutenant," Watts replied. Quickly, he headed to the communications station and ordered the standard notice of search to be sent to the incoming vessel.

---

Imperial Navy of the Empire of United Gordonopia
Civilian Vessel Notification
Urgent

To the Captain of the SKS 'Better than Nothing'. Your freighter is entering a Zone of Blockade. Please declare your cargo to the frigate INS John Francis King and submit to possible inspection. Failure to comply will result in an appropriate response by the Imperial Navy.

[Skibereen]

The Mordent Factor
The people of Skibereen have, for longer than the nation itself has existed in its present form taken up arms in the defense of others. This practice is a long time tradition, indeed if one is so moved by a cause of a foreign peoples it is largely expected they take some action, or they really arent that moved to begin with.

This is not done with an expectation that people would be reciprocal in this act. However it is an unavoidable happenstance that this should occur.

And s with the looming threat of Gordonopia off the shores of Skibereen, people of Mordent ancestry found themselves at the end of such sympathies from their cousins across the sea.

As immigration laws are lax in Skibereen, and no law prevents this type of exchange, very little of the traffic is tracked between Morrdh and Skibereen.

But in pubs and on the docks, and airports in the cities with large Mordent communities, the results slowly began to become clear as daily a slow and steady trickle of fit Mordent men appeared more and more on the streets and in the pubs.

At the watchmen's meetings, and party halls these young(and old) men found themselves welcomed by both those of Mordent blood and those not. With easy access to organizing materials and communications so as to more easily group the men as they came. Neighborhoods were chosen where they might stay close in among each other, and families made room where other lodgings were not available.

Honestly only the Mordents knew how many were coming, and the secret was kept well enough to keep them from having troubles at home.

[Skibereen]

Better Than Nothing

Captain Moore listened has second played back the generic message from the Gordonopian vessel.
the men on the bridge looked at the captain, they all knew he would be fit to be tied.

One of the young men monitoring systems for engineering had just come aboard while the man he was repacing took time off with a new child, this was his first assignment out of the Merchant Academy, bad time to be freshmeat.

He was the only one who actually had concern on his face, the rest of the crew were seasoned men of the sea and by all accounts they had seen plenty to not be worried, until there was something to worry about.

Moore removed his cover, and ran his hand along the stubble on his head(that was always bad) he then produced a cigarette and lit it, took a drag and rubbed his head again, he deep in thought.

The new man had no idea how much tension was building in the room right now, they were making 24 knots straight for who knows what and he was just standing there rubbing his head, which clearly meant was strongly considering not stopping.

Then he finally spoke: "Ygora, container count"

Another man on the bridge looked at him blankly then snapped back to reality "Little better than 8000 sir."

"Well you dont say, here how about you get out your little book, and give me the proper fucking count."

The man spun round and opened a book full of papers ...he wasnt going to stop fucking hell

"Sir, 8011 containers sir"

He took a drag from his cigarette and rubbed his head again

"Alright so assume they are expidient and interested in keeping us on schedule, then they wont do a proper search, and assuming they are not interested in our schedule but are efficient the best we can hope is fifteen minutes a container, seven if they have multiple teams and dogs, thats about a month to conduct a full inspection of our cargo. We all know they arent going to do that. So why should I waste seven minutes for them to pretend to be doing something they clearly can not do?
I shouldnt. David, dial me up one of those doggers on the line."

A man over in the corner gave a crooked eye to the other men on the bridge as he turned and began working the radio he then handed the transmitter to the captain

Captain Moore spoke in Fynndjall rather than english "[i]This is Captain Moore of the SKS Better Than Nothing, container ship in the employ of Hibernian Shipping. Put your man of the hour on the line, captain if he is available" though he asked for someone he did not wait, but merely paused and then continued speaking, assuming his request was handled. "I have eight thousand eleven containers on board. To be frank, we all know you arent going to spend the next 40 days searching this ship, and since we both know my manifests could be mistaken or deliberately incorrect there is no managable way for you to conduct your business properly, however me entertaining this farce would indeed cost me real time that can not be made up. Regardless of how long you pretend to be securing the world from whatever might or might not be aboard my ship. So I must decline your offer to pay kissy face while you cost me and my crew and the company and the company's customers money. Should you wish to review the manifest please contact Hibernian Shipping and or the Rotyrrgardt Republic Shipping Yards and I am certain someone there will be happy to get you a copy.

Barrng that you may feel free to search the vessel where she makes next her port, Good day[/i]."

The men on the bridge were wide eyed, the new boy looked like he might wet himself, however slowly a snicker from one man turned into laughter from the rest...except for the Captain, and the pants pisser.

[United Gordonopia]

INS John Francis King

It only takes one gung-ho captain to fuck it all up. That thought ran through Captain John Watts' mind the moment 'Better than Nothing's' message cut off. The freighter's skipper had made it explicitly clear that he would be exactly that kind of captain.

"Ready the prop lines immediately. I want that ship halted immediately."

Frantically, Watts moved around the bridge, shouting out orders as he went. Up to that point, the operation had been very efficient. The only ship to cross paths with the JFK, about a day prior, had immediately declared its cargo, and submitted to a quick search. Because of the crew's cooperation, and the considerable time frame it would have taken to inspect every container one by one, the search had been little more than a quick run through with sniffer dogs, and a search of any suspicious containers. The ship was on its way in a matter of hours.

With this new ship, things would obviously be different. Either the ship really was hiding something, or the captain was simply to aggressive for his own good. Watts couldn't afford to determine which was the case.

Dropping the lines themselves would, of course, be a dangerous task; maneuvering in the pathway of a nearly 100,000 tonne vessel would always be. If everything went well, though, the 'Better than Nothing' would soon be dead in the water. From there, it was simply a matter of demonstrating that the Empire took insult from no one.

[Skibereen]

Better than nothing

"She is moving around in front of us Captain"

"Huh, oh yeah yeah, of course, they dont want to sink us just stop us. So one of two things is going to happen, they will either begin to slow and hope I have no intention ramming, which of course I do, or they will drop lines and try to tangle our props and force us to stop. Donovan, I want you get the men together collect blankets, sheets, mattresses, towels, all the linens from the crew quarters and the five passenger cabins.

Dredj, get me oil from the kitchen, the engine room, hydraulic fluid, bearing grease, anything petroleum based. Then go to the pool room and get all the chlorine tablets you find, get all the cleaning supplies together, and the dish soap from the kitchen.

Donovan, meet Dredj and his boys on deck with all the materials, line the fore with the mattresses and blanket, and what not, mix the oils and hydraulic fluid together then soak all the mattresses and blankets and linens in it. Also make sure you all have emergency flare guns. Once this is done I want you get all the men together who have wives, and children, send them to the stern to board the rocket ship, let all the other men know I plan to resist the boarding...so if they want to back out, tell them to board the rocket ship too.

Rooly get on the com and tell Henryk to get his welder out and start tacking shut all the accesses to the deck, starting at the fore and working his way back, Ill call him in a it and let him know where else to weld the doors. Also tell him to disable the fire protection system, and get the firesuits out for the men who decide to stay." the Captain vomitted up this orders in rapid succession and the men he informed quickly went to their tanks.

"Ey, boy. Head to the stern and get ready to leave. I know youre not ready for this."

"begging your pardon sir, I dont have any living family, no wife, no kids. Just me. So while I am really afraid you are going to get me killed, if you do manage to shake these folks from us, youll need everyone you can get to help get the ship to the next port. I'd rather stay.'

The captain eyed the young man, he spoke calmly and logically but his young face was twisted with fear, his eyes were wet, and his voice cracked as he spoke...but the Captain could there was no changing his mind, he was the best kind of brave, not fearless, but performing in spite of his fear.

"Davyd, I want you on the helm. Listen to my orders and do what I say when I say and dont think about it. One, if they slow down, you dont. You run that little bastard over. Ill be watching, if its prop lines Im about to show you the difference between playing captain, and knowing what you are doing."


With most of his bridge crew off running his errands the captain began working the radio.

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, This is Captain Vylaak Moore of the 'SKS Better than Nothing,' I am declaring an emergency, the ship is under attack by pirates. I say again, Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, This is Captain Vylaak Moore of the 'SKS Better than Nothing,' I am declaring an emergency, the ship is under attack by pirates. Broadcasting on all frequencies, our ship is under attack by pirates. I say Again, Mayday Mayday, Mayday, This is Captain Vylaak Moore of the 'SKS Better than Nothing,' I am declaring an emergency, the ship is under attack by pirates. We are preparing to repel boarders."


___________________________________________________________________________________
Rotyrrgardt Armada Regional Command Center

Herre Mushyrr Kyllaan sat in his office reviewing the progress of getting vessels in his command into proper position to begin effectively and safely escorting merchants, thus far things had gone well. Compliance from Skibereen vessels was ensuring a smooth process and in a few hours the Blockade would be able to be matched with overwhelming numbers.

As he reviewed various data sets, communiques, dispatches of ship movements, etc etc

as he was immersed in thought his office door opened (without a knock) this in itself surprised him, it was one of his subordinates.

"Excuse me sir, but you need to see this." He snapped on the television in the Mushyrr's office.

A female reporter spoke
"A few minutes ago this message was relayed from a private fishing vessel off the coast of Rotyrrgardt, we will now replay the transmission as we received it from the fishing vessel;

'Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, This is Captain Vylaak Moore of the 'SKS Better than Nothing,' I am declaring an emergency, the ship is under attack by pirates. I say again, Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, This is Captain Vylaak Moore of the 'SKS Better than Nothing,' I am declaring an emergency, the ship is under attack by pirates. Broadcasting on all frequencies, our ship is under attack by pirates. I say Again, Mayday Mayday, Mayday, This is Captain Vylaak Moore of the 'SKS Better than Nothing,' I am declaring an emergency, the ship is under attack by pirates. We are preparing to repel boarders.'

Our research department is presently trying to determine the truth of the facts presented.
Assuming the message is real, it appears that the SKS Better than Nothing is going to resist the Gordonopian Blockade, the military has not issued an officia..." the television explodes in a shower of glass and sparks as the Mushyrr hurls a glass of whiskey into as if he believe if he hit the thing hard enough it would undo what he saw transpiring.

"Are you fucking kidding me! On the damned news! Why the hell was this not blacked out? Damn it! Do you know what this means? The genie cant be put back in the bottl..."

At that moment the phone rang

"Hello"

"Yes, yes it is"

"Yes sir"

"I understand"

"I can have White-Backs in the air in fifteen minutes"

"Yes sir"

"Yes sir"

"seven minutes sir, I understand"

"That was Frederick O'Murchadha, he wants air over that ship right now. Scramble the White-Back's scheduled for standard patrol, brief the pilots as they get ready, they have seven minutes to be in the air, and he meant it"

_______________________________________________________________________________________
Better than Nothing

"Captain, they are dropping lines!"

Captain Moore didnt hesitate, he cried out "Full Stop, engines full stop!"

Davyd did as he was told and slammed the ships engines to a full stop

He looked at the Captain "Captain, I dont ..."

"What is stopping distance at a full stop coming off 24 knots?"

Davyd hesitated this time

"Umm, a little better than a mile"
The captain stared at him for a moment, then slowly a light came on in Davyd's eyes, a smile came across his face.
"Son of a Bitch, that would have never occurred to me."

"I hope not, Davyd, Ive been doing this longer than youve been alive. They drop the line close enough that we cant turn to avoid them, but what can do is cut the engines, a vessel this size straight shaft, engine isnt turning props arent moving.
So they drop the lines, we cut the engine and drift over the lines restart the engines. I promise the first set of lines they will just think missed, since its not like we stop, we keeping moving forward. Eventually theyll figure it out or we'll get slow enough for them helo over boarders...but I have some surprises in store for them too.I need you on the binoculars to watch the speed of the lines as they come off on our approach so we know when we can restart the engines."

The Captain returned to the radio and repeated his Mayday call, and included that the "Pirates" were deploying prop lines...he omitted from his transmission the details of his plan to avoid them.

[United Gordonopia]

INS Bolsom

A frantic knock at the door of Admiral Joseph Stahl's office caused the Admiral to look up from a report he was reading, only to find that a Lieutenant from Operations had already entered.

"Sir," the officer began, "you're needed on the bridge immediately."

Slightly surprised that the man had not waited for the commander of the 7th Fleet to acknowledge him before beginning, Stahl realized almost immediately that whatever had happened had to be serious.

"I'll be there, Lieutenant," he replied as he stood. Setting his cap on his head, Stahl walked briskly to his door, and was soon at the fleet CIC. The flurry of activity was the first thing to hit him. Until that point, the entire blockade had been smooth and efficient. Whatever was taking place, he wished that he'd been informed sooner.

"Admiral," Captain Leonid Hoskins said, with a subtle undertone of relief, "I apologize for waiting so long to call you down."

After serving with him for years, it was obvious that Hoskins knew Stahl all too well.

"What is is, Leo? From the look of things, we're in some pretty deep shit."

"Well, sir, it's nothing we didn't expect would happen sooner or later, but it seems to have blown magnificently out of proportion. One of our frigates, the John Francis King, is currently attempting to contain a... less than willing cargo vessel."

Hoskins was right, events like this had been planned for well in advance. If a ship failed to comply with a search, prop lines would be the first reaction, followed by boarding attempts. If the situation got absolutely out of hand, there was always the chance that firing on the ship, with intent to disable, would be the only option. Why it was the situation was so bad only became apparent as Stahl happened to turn to one of the monitors at the nearby intelligence station.

"Leo... don't tell me that's the Fyndjall news..."

"Yes sir. Unfortunately, that was what I was getting to. The captain of the cargo vessel, registered as the 'Better than Nothing', sent out a distress signal on all frequencies stating that they were under attack by pirates. By pirates, well, they obviously mean the John Francis King. It seems that the story has spread almost instantly across Skibereen."

As Stahl stood, momentarily silent, the full meaning of that statement sunk in. Obviously, the people of the nation were well aware of the Gordonopian ships just outside of their territorial waters. Up until that point, however, there had been no real conflict. The image of a heroic crew fighting to stave off marauding authoritarians had the potential to change that in an instant. Now, if the government of Skibereen didn't react with force, it would risk a lot of face.

Seeing his superior had yet to formulate a response, Hoskins elected to continue.

"From what we know, the vessel in question is a fairly large Fyndjall civilian freighter currently in international waters. The shipping manifest doesn't list any banned materials, but when a captain is this hostile, you can never be too careful. Thus far, they've managed to avoid prop lines, and as we speak, we're preparing for a boarding attempt. However, the Captain has publicly stated that the Better than Nothing is preparing to resist boarding. Whether or not this is a bluff should certainly factor into our next move."

Taking these words of advice into account, Admiral Stahl finally sprung into action.

"Yes, it certainly should. Whether or not it's a bluff should be considered, but if boarding becomes necessary, then so be it. Make sure the JFK's Molior has a full squad on board, and get it in the air around the Better than Nothing. As soon as it takes off, make sure that the JFK fires a warning shot from its deck gun, and do what you can to jam the freighter's transmissions. If the Better than Nothing doesn't stop after that, send the marines in."

"Yes sir," replied Hoskins, "anything else?"

"Of course, Leo. Now that this situation's become a media circus in Skibereen, we need to be wary of any show of force by the Fyndjall government. I want a full squadron of Shadowhawks, as well as a flight of Boucs, in the airspace over the hot zone. The hawks will be there purely for air superiority. Make sure the Boucs are loaded out for air to ship. Also, send out a ping to the area. Just in case."

"Aye aye," Hoskins barked as he saluted, and rushed off to spread the orders.

Stahl, meanwhile, was left to consider the orders he had just given. On one hand, they could be interpreted as simply maintaining the blockade to protect Gordonopia against a rogue skipper and his ship. From another point of view, the John Francis King's warning shots could certainly be treated as the first shots of a Gordonopia-Skibereen War.

---

INS John Francis King

Reading over the orders from fleet command, Captain John Watts was somewhat surprised at the immediate increase in force that had been ordered. With the Better than Nothing continuing to evade his frigate, however, Watts was hardly in a position to disagree. As soon as he finished absorbing the information, he began assigning tasks.

To begin with, the ships assigned marine squad was dispatched immediately to the helicopter on the aft of the ship. If boarding became necessary, they would have to rappel onto the moving vessel, something they had been trained in as part of their seaborne compliment training. Because of the potential for an ambush on the ship, the marines would be dropped at different locations, and would of course be carrying full loadouts.

Meanwhile, the starboard autocannon was targeted to fire to the starboard of the Better than Nothing. As soon as the Molior took off, the warning shots would be fired, while the John Francis King would continue to broadcast an order to surrender to the freighter.

Finally, the matter of the 'ping' from the Bolsom had to be addressed. With this in mind, Watts approached one of his sensors officers, and made sure he was aware of the situation.

"Seaman," he began, "I need you to keep a lookout for any, and I mean any, vessels that could be a potential threat to our ship; Fyndjall armada vessels especially. We just received a ping from the Bolsom, which means that any of our nearby boats received it as well. That gives us one more job on top of everything else: we need to act as a spotter. If we come under real threat, all we have to do is give the order."

"Yes, sir," the young enlisted man said slowly. The thought of having to resort to the passively receiving Deska attack submarines lying hidden throughout the blockade zone, two of which nearby, certainly worried him. He took the order seriously, however, and immediately threw his attention into sensors readouts.

With that taken care of, Watts shifted back to the Better than Nothing. Judging from his orders, the stealthy air support that the Bolsom was providing was around ten to fifteen minutes out. With each minute that passed, however, the Better than Nothing grew better prepared to resist, and the chance of retaliation from elsewhere increased. Considering it all, Watts finally gave his orders. Moments later, just as the LA-214 Molior helicopter took off from the aft of the John Francis King, the frigate's 35mm autocannons fired a warning burst to the starboard of the Better than Nothing. It was now up to the freighter to decide its own fate.

[Skibereen]

Better Than Nothing

Walkies on the ship stopped working, Donovan had done his tasks and tried to radio the Captain about the rocket ship, instead he had to find an intercom panel,

"Captain, this is Donovan, radios are down. rocket ship is away in a couple of moments.Respond"

A few moments passed and then

"Good, come back fore. Make sure the men are suited up in the fire gear as you come. And make sure the fire suppression is no longer automated. I need a man on it, and again make sure everyone has their gear on. Full up chemical gear. While youre at it light her up. Respond."

"Im sorry captain, could you repeat that? Light what up? Respond"

"The deck boy, take your flare gun, and light all that shit I ordered onto the deck up. If they are jamming our coms, which by the interference on all the channels they are, that means they are coming. So light it up. Respond."

"Pig shit, yes sir, Over and out."

As Donovan raced back along the deck he stopped at another intercom, spread the word of what needed to be done. Then he fired a volley of flares as he reached the fore.

Flames kicked up along the front of the ship, as one of the men on the other side took his actions to be the single to follow suit, or perhaps the captain had issued the order. The grease, and oil, and anti-freeze could be heard to sizzle and pop, the oil soaked rags and linens mixed the old hydraulic fluid immediately began spewing a thick oily black smoke. and the ship's forward motion drug the smoke across the deck.

Donovan realized what it was, there was little danger of the ship catching real fire...but the thick smoke would make fast roping onto the deck near the super structure dangerous, well more dangerous then jumping from a helicopter onto a moving ship already was. So then the boarders would have to board far aft. Or risk both injury from accident, and leaping directly into ambush. Not to mention slipping in the spills as cleaners soaped the deck while the oily fires slipped along its surface.
With fire moving along the deck, the boarders would likely find themselves needing to go through, instead of over...and inside the ship the captain mustve believed the crew was at an advantage.

Rocket ship Away. - FFLB in the water. The ship's life boat is launched.

________________________________________________________________________________________
Rotyrrgardt Armada Regional Command Center

Herre Mushyrr Kyllaan was in the command center as the flight of White-backs took off, in his allotted time frame, he rubbed his hands together and then spoke.

"Alright this has gone on long enough light them up" he pointed to an aid who then spoke into one of the command lines.

Skibereen's OTH radar network sprang to life, this was usually not used(primarily because of interference with civilian radars and of course the proximity of Lamoni meant interference with their systems as well.

As this was happening ECM equipment all along the cost lit up as civilian radio communications (including the emergency distress channel) went down.

Over the unsecured networks the tell tales occislations made it clear active jamming was occuring.

One of the officers spoke "its not us"

"No, its the Gordonopians, they didnt want BTN shouting to the world any more than we did. Looks like they dont intend to let it happen any further. Ruus I want targeting data on that signal, no shooting until I give the word. Maritime assets in the area?"

"Sir, ships are two hours out, air however will be up and out in fifteen minutes not counting the first White-Backs. Time to target for snapdragons is inside 7 minutes, for Scimitar is inside 20 minutes, White-backs are carrying spearfish and they will be closing to inside 5 minutes once they beyond half way to target."


"Sir, multiple contacts. Fast movers making for BTN and the target. Working on a profile sir."

The OTH lacked the resolution to accurately identify aircraft by model, but that very lack of resolution made the system immune to stealth.

"Ruus, advise the vultures. Keep them advised, and tell them radar off, and no chatter we'll do the talking until they need to."

A man entered the command center

"Herre Mushyrr Kyllaan, we have another issue. The jamming has shut down civilian maritime comms with in a 500km radius.
We need SAR in the air because accidents are going to happen, hell sir even small aircraft are radio black."

"Alright we need aircraft up to guide down the civilians presently in the air. All traffic is going to be on a secured channel so make sure everyone knows where to talk about what, and make sure these pilots understand the civies are deaf.

Son of bitch, I'll tell you what boys. I dont know who that captain is, but he just broke the blockade. If they have to jam civilian communications then they cant direct ships to heave to, they just shut down their project because of one stubborn bastard. Lets see if we can keep him alive, I want to shake his hand after I kick his ass. Tighten your belts kids, shit just got real."

Herre Mushyrr Kyllaan lit a cigarette and found himself the whiskey he had been needing since this began.

Hopefully everyone would still be alive by the time the smoke and the drink were finished, he doubted that however, so he measured two more fingers in to the glass for extra time and luck.

[Lamoni]

The use of Skibereen's OTH radars lit up Lamonian ESM systems like a Christmas tree. Unaware of the diplomatic messages passing between Skibereen's and United Gordonopia, this action caught them by surprise. Meeting in the underground bunker that housed the Lamonian war room, the President and the Joint Chiefs of Staff were waiting for word from LIA's satellite service as to what was going on. They had noticed the movement of the Gordonopian ships, but had thought it to be of no consequence, if odd.

A diplomatic message would have to be sent, but to whom? Only time would tell.

[Morrdh]

Aside from the Morridanes of Mordentish blood going to the Armed Republic to fight alongside their Skibereen brethren, little else had occurred within the Commonwealth in relation to the ongoing problems. The only of note that did occur was a communique sent to the Gordonopian government via diplomatic back channels.

To Whom It Concerns,

The Morridane government is acutely aware of the current tensions between Gordonopia and Skibereen, it is also that a number of Morridanes have sought passage to the latter. They may have acquired weapons or supplied cash to certain parties within the Armed Republic, though it is something that we have been unable to confirm. Naturally these persons, though their possible actions, will put the Commonwealth in bit of a tricky position.

Though we have good relations with the Skibereens we have no desire to be drawn into any possible conflict, to this end we intend to take the following measures;

(i). Any Morridanes that goes to fight for Skibereen will have their Commonwealth citizenship revoked and be branded miliants.

(ii). Said persons will also have arrest warrants placed on their heads via Interpol.

We will be sending one of our diplomats to your country with the intention of brokering a Non-Aggression Pact and to formally establish diplomatic relations.

Signed,

Sir Gedney Hill,
Foreign Secretary, Commonwealth of Morrdh.

[Skibereen]

Diplomatic Missive to Lamoni Government

At the time of this message, the civilian maritime frequencies utilized for communication and distress signaling have become subject to active jamming by Gordonpian naval assets currently in the process of blockading Skibereen.

The reasons for said blockade can found :FILE ATTACHED: .

In response to the distress call from a Skibereen flagged vessel :SKS Better then Nothing: and because of the foreign military assets of Gordonopia now sitting in international waters, imposing foreign laws on sovereign flagged vessels of Skibereen, the Skibereen Over The Horizon(OTH) radar network has been activated.

We recognize the inconvenience this action will cause Lamoni military, commercial, private commerce, and communications.

At present because of the utilization of active jamming numerous civilian vessels in Skibereen waters are effectively blind, this includes small aircraft.

We request the assistance of Lamoni Search and Rescue to ensure that during this time civilian casualties do to accident are kept to a minimum.


Regards
Office of Maritime Safety

[Lamoni]

Lamonian War Room

The missive from the Skibereenian Government was reassuring, to say the least. A few hours after it had arrived, satellite intelligence had confirmed the presence of Gordonopian warships attempting to enforce a blockade against Lamoni's neighbor and trading partner. Now that information was starting to come in, it was time for a decision.

To this end, President Stinson got everyone's attention, and spoke. "Skibereen has been a long time neighbor and trading partner of the Free Republic. However, we have few ties with United Gordonopia, and the Gordonopians are enacting a blockade of our trading partners. They claim to be doing this because some people in Skibereen are funding terrorists who are attempting to bring a Republican form of government to that nation, but the government of Skibereen has no hand in funding these terrorists, according to the LIA. Further, Skibereen is requesting that we aid them in Search and Rescue missions for any who have need of them, said numbers likely to increase due to the blockade. Since we doubt that United Gordonopia will seriously fire on a Lamonian flagged warship, the proposal is to send a group of one hundred Type 35 Patrol Frigates to assist in the Search and Rescue mission. This will both save lives, which I hardly need remind you will give us positive PR, but it will also send a message to the Gordonopians, stating that we are watching what is going on with a very keen eye. I hereby call for a cabinet vote on the issue. All in agreement, say aye..."

The vote was unanimous, with all of the cabinet members voting aye to President Stinson's proposal. At Lamonian naval bases near Skibereen, anyone with the proper equipment on their satellites could see the heat blooms in the engine rooms of the one hundred selected frigates, as they prepared to put to sea, and execute their orders.

Further, a diplomatic message was prepared for the Government of United Gordonopia:

Office of the President of the Free Republic of Lamoni

To: Government of United Gordonopia

Noting with extreme concern the naval blockade imposed upon Skibereen by warships of the Gordonopian Navy, I have ordered one hundred Type 35 Patrol Frigates of the Lamonian Navy to assist in Search and Rescue operations regarding ships and aircraft affected by the blockade. It is the expectation of the Lamonian Government that these ships will be allowed to come and go from Skibereen as they wish, without the slightest hint of interruption.

As we consider the imposition of a blockade on Skibereen to be an assault on Lamonian national interests, we have further deemed it to be in our interest to increase the state of alert of Lamonian Military Forces, worldwide. Skibereen is a historical trading partner of the Free Republic, and we will work to keep it that way. This close to home, one hundred frigates is but a minor deployment for us, compared to the much more expensive presence of your warships in international waters off the shores of Skibereen. Remember that, and all should be fine. Forget, and our 7,275 warship navy will have to teach you a lesson.

Signed,

Andrew Stinson
President
Free Republic of Lamoni

[United Gordonopia]

Imperial High Command, Gordonopia City

One would be hard pressed to ignore the worry, the tension, pervading throughout the Strategic Planning Room. The emergency meeting of the nation's top military and political leaders had not come as a huge surprise, given the nation's risky ongoing blockade of Skibereen, but the speed at which the situation was deteriorating had caught many of the less experienced men assembled off guard. In only a few hours, the refusal of a freighter captain to submit to search had lit a fuse, and it seemed that at any moment, the situation would explode. Air forces were beginning to converge over the hot zone, and it looked as if naval forces may be as well. Over the Horizen RADAR had been deployed, interfering with civilian RADAR in the area. Most troubling of all, the Free Republic of Lamoni had issued a warning that essentially stated the obvious: the Empire was walking a very, very thin line.

Standing at the front of the room, it was clear that High Admiral von Keittel was working hardest to focus the attention of the room. With the full group present, and those unavailable on video call, he was ready to begin the proceedings.

"Gentlemen, please, if I could have your attention. As I'm sure all of you have heard by now, we are on the cusp of a crisis. Our blockade of Skibereen has, not unexpectedly, met with resistance. Now, with military confrontation imminent, and international reactions beginning to emerge, we must make our final decision on how we must proceed."

"Admiral," a general seated near the front of the room interrupted, "If you could possibly elaborate on the most pressing events, it would be very helpful. Not all of us have been directly involved in the blockade, and the speed at which this meeting was called to order prevented many such as myself from fully briefing ourselves on the situation."

"Of course, General. I was in fact just arriving at that point," von Keittel replied coolly, "Hours ago, one of our frigates on patrol in the blockade zone, the INS John Francis King, encountered a freighter registered as the SKS Better than Nothing. After a terse refusal to submit to inspection, the captain of the JFK determined that stopping the vessel would be necessary. At that point, however, the Captain began sending out an emergency signal declaring that his ship was under attack by pirates. Contrary to our expectation that the Fyndjall government would shut down calls such as this, the message was picked up by media networks, and was broadcast across the nation.

Now, the fact that OTH RADAR was recently deployed by the Fynndjall military does show that they are willing to sacrifice the signal getting out. However, it doesn't change the fact that every man, woman and child in Skibereen is watching or has heard the heroic ongoing story of the captain attempting to evade the merciless Gordonopian oppressors. Currently, there are, I believe, three major issues to cover.

First is the issue of the vessel itself. The JFK has thus far failed to halt the Better than Nothing, although it is in the midst of preparing a boarding operation."

At that moment, an Air Force field marshal interjected: "Excuse me, Admiral, but if our ships can't even stop a single freighter, how did we expect to maintain a whole blockade? It does seem a little ridiculous-"

"Marshal, please allow me to finish. You must realize that we are not yet at war; if that were the case, the Better than Nothing would currently be sitting at the bottom of the ocean. At this time, we are doing what we can to stop the vessel without destroying it and its entire crew, and without making a bad situation worse. Now, I will say that the skipper of the vessel must be fairly experienced in order to have evaded the JFK up to this point. However, that does not mean that his vessel will escape in the end.

Now, unless there are any objections to a boarding operation, I believe that we can move on."

After waiting for a short moment, no one spoke up, giving von Keittel the initiative to continue.

"The second matter is the question of the aircraft currently en route to the hot zone. Our current intelligence indicates that they are coastal defense interceptors, though in numbers far fewer than the shadowhawks our carriers are deploying to the skies over the two ships. As I see it, and I'm sure most of you will agree, there are two ways to respond.

First, and most aggressively, would be to shoot their fighters down as they arrive. This would certainly help to rid ourselves temporarily of the threat from above, allowing the operation against the Better than Nothing to proceed unhindered. However, this option provides many challenges, not the least of which is the fact that it would solicit the full-blown retaliation of the Fynndjall military.

The second option, and the one already selected by Admiral Stahl, commander of the fleet currently engaged, is to use the Shadowhawks as a safety net, only having them engage if the Fynndjall aircraft attack first. Now, this option is of course risking losses, but I personally believe that we should allow the order to stand. Are there any objections?"

"Isn't that leaving the John Francis King dead in the water, Admiral?" Asked a representative from the Arbitrat of Truth.

Arbitrator Dunn, the Arbitrator of Diplomacy, was the first to respond: "It does risk the JFK somewhat, yes, but we wouldn't be deploying these frigates if they weren't at least moderately capable of defending themselves from air attack. More importantly, though, this course of action allows us to retain at least some credibility when we are saying that this blockade is being conducted in order to protect our nation. If we simply attacked everything that could potentially be a threat, we would have a hard time portraying ourselves as anything but aggressors. On the other hand, if we allow them to fire the first shots, we can at least point our finger and say 'they were the ones who made it a war. We were simply protecting our civilians from the threat of terrorism'."

The discussion continued for a short time more, with several minor objections raised, but ultimately, it was virtually unanimous to let the orders in the field stand. Finally, von Keittel was free to turn to the most concerning issue.

"The final matter, gentlemen, is that of the communique we have received from Lamoni."

With that, the room grew silent. The Free Republic was, at the very least, considered a friendly nation, due mainly to several mutual allies. The Empire, though, considered Lamoni to be a great power within the region, and any conflict with them would be taken very seriously.

"Before you is the full text of their short message. Let me save you the trouble of deciphering its meaning and simply say that this is a serious threat to our operation. Of course, we will have to treat this situation..."

The conversation continued, and after some disagreement over how to respond to the obvious threat of retaliation, an appropriate reply was drafted. With that, the discussion turned to several other topics, such as appealing to Gordonopia's allies, before the meeting adjurned. As the generals and arbitrators left the room, there was at least some comfort in the fact that they had formulated a reasonable response for the pressing crisis. Whether that response would help, or would only serve to exacerbate the situation, was what kept every single one of them on edge.

---

To: President Andrew Stinson, Free Republic of Lamoni
From: Arbitrator Jonathon Dunn, Empire of United Gordonopia
Subject: Re: Search and Rescue Operations
Restriction: Maximum

---

President Stinson,

As the Empire of United Gordonopia has absolutely no wish to cause unnecessary civilian casualties, our armed forces shall not interfere with frigates participating in search and rescue operations. However, I wish to personally implore you not to interfere with the blockade in any other way.

Assaulting Lamonian interests was not in any way the intention of the blockade, but it is obviously a side-affect of our operations in the region. Before you go about threatening the Empire with your own naval strength, consider the reason our forces were deployed in the first place. This blockade is not a petty attempt at imperialism, nor is it a deliberate attempt to disrupt the economy of Lamoni or any other nation. Rather, it is a targeted statement to the Fynndjall government that tighter controls on the goods and services leaving its nation are necessary for the safety of both its own people and the people of Greater Dienstad.

While there is no conclusive evidence to state that the Fyndjall government itself has supported Republican terrorists within United Gordonopia, it is clear that the virtual anarchy that many of its citizens live in, as well as the general apathy of the nation's leaders, have led to a culture that upholds the financial and material support of groups that consider bombing primary schools and city squares to be viable political statements. Despite pleas for cooperation, the government of Skibereen has refused any support in ending the flow of arms and funds from its nation to the various Republican militant groups that have existed since the legitimate Republican government surrendered in United Gordonopia. Even as these groups have murdered tens of thousands, if not more, through bombings and attacks, and have caused a virtual state of war in several small regions of this nation, Skibereen has turned a blind eye.

While I recognize that our nations have never had more of a relationship than simply cordiality courtesy of our mutual allies, most notably the Protectorate of Lyras, I hope that you will consider these realities when deciding upon how best to respond to the situation in your nation's backyard.

---

Sincerely,

Jonathon Dunn
Arbitrator of Foreign Affair

---

To: Sir Gedney Hill, Commonwealth of Morrdh
From: Arbitrator Jonathon Dunn, Empire of United Gordonopia
Subject: Re: Diplomatic Relations
Restriction: Maximum

---

Sir Hill,

I thank you for reaching out to us in this time of growing tension within our region.

Should any Morridanes be captured during our blockade of Skibereen, or any ensuing events, the Empire is more than willing to transfer them to Morridane custody so that they may face the legal system of your nation. Should this not be your preference, we are also certainly willing to deal with them through Gordonopian channels.

As for your proposed non-aggression pact, I would be honored to meet with a Morridane diplomat personally in United Gordonopia. It is unfortunate that the Empire has never established true relations with your nation, a fellow member of Greater Dienstad. Perhaps we can come to terms on how to change that.

---

Sincerely,

Jonathon Dunn
Arbitrator of Foreign Affair

---

INS John Francis King

"Jesus, they've set their goddamn ship on fire!"

The black smoke rising high to the sky only served to confirm the surprised exclamation from one of the enlisted men on the JFK's bridge. As soon as he saw it, Captain Watts rushed to the team that was handling the imminent boarding operation. Plans had changed. Seeing him approach, the Lieutenant in charge offered up his gloomy opinion.

"Sir, there's no way we can go through with this op. If that fire is accidental, which it doesn't appear to be, then something is very wrong on that ship. If it's not, then we're in for two situations. Either the skipper is trying to scuttle the ship, in which case it would be better to simply try and round up survivors, or he's laying some kind of trap. My money's on the latter. Given that we don't have any fire suppression capabilities off of our own ship, it appears he's trying to channel us where he wants us."

After letting the Lieutenant finish, Watts knew he needed to assert his command. The operation had to go through; maintaining the blockade without sinking the Better than Nothing outright depended on it.

"Lieutenant, how could you think for one moment that if he's laying a trap, the skipper would up and light fire to his own ship? It's a bloody smoke screen, though a damn good one for an improvised job. No, we need to take this ship, or this entire blockade loses its credibility.

The helo will continue towards the ship. From what it appears, the stern will be the best place to land. I want both squads to rope to the deck there, with two men staying behind for rescue. Based on their lifeboat launch, we'll have numerical superiority.

First squad will advance into the smoke, across the deck. The helo will do what it can to spot, while second squad holds the stern. First squad will slowly make its way to the superstructure, and breach. From there, it will take the bridge. Once that is in our hands, we'll use it as a CP to initiate a pinser movement to take out any men remaining below deck. Is that clear, Lieutenant?"

The Lieutenant hesitated momentarily. The plan was extraordinarily risky, and in no way guaranteed to work. If the ambush were actually in the smoke, or if something happened before the men could take the bridge, the operation was tantamount to suicide. At the same time, the Captain was right: the Better than Nothing had to fall.

"Yes sir," the young officer said as he shifted attention to the communications uplink with the helicopter. "Falcon one, this is bird's nest. Operation is go. Revised POA incoming."

A muffled reply came back: "Roger that bird's nest. Preparing for flight."

With that, the Molior transport helicopter that had been waiting for the go-ahead moved quickly toward the Better than Nothing's position. In moments, it would be lining its speed and position up with the ship. If, for the first time that day, something went right, Gordonopian Marines would soon be on the deck of the SKS Better Than Nothing.

[Skibereen]

Rotyrrgardt Armm Air Arm Air Base "Khaldea"

The the flight of three Vultures (White Backs) left with pilots as they walked the tarmac, additional air assets would be inbound behind them, but for all intents and purposes they were going to be alone for what would be an eternity. Ordered to fly "black" left the aircrews effectively blind for a large portion of the flight with Command relaying bogey telemetry on a one way comms channel.

The pilots had decided on the tarmac to forgo a circumspect approach to the target and instead layer their flight to reduce the liklihood of clear and immediate detection and disposition at range. The lead aircraft(and senior most pilot) would take the "low" position at 500m off the deck, a dangerous and unforgiving altitude, with the second Vulture on the same course and heading above it at 9000m, with the third Vulture taking position in the flight at 19000m.

Number 3 was first off and immediately began climbing to its over watch altitude, Number 2 had lifted off shortly after and moved to its altitude, and finally Number 1 lifted off and immediately moved to the bottom of the column.

The key to the formation was simple, utilizing the LO features of the Vultures they would layer their approach so as to mask the approach of Number 1. So long as he didnt crash into the ocean it should reduce the chances of all three aircraft being detected until better than halfway to target, closer than that for the ships radars given the Radar horizon of the vessel, it was exceedingly dangerous, but it would put Number 1 at point blank range by the time he appeared on the radar.

Captian Hvaan was glad no one could see him as shot over the water low enough to see the contour of the waves that were not quite white-caps, the smile on his face was painful, and he couldnt stop it, no matter how much he concentrated on the seriousness of the situation. It was a rare occasion one was allowed to risk a multimillion dollar aircraft in such a fashion.

His Weapons officer was behind him playing music through the intercom, some foreign "jazz" drums bellowed into his ears in a syncopation rhythm as the "hum" of the aircraft filled him with adrenaline. Every time he blinked he had covered kilometers.

When that got closer they would activate their Red-Eyes to use the IRST for the enemy aircraft, or hopefully they would be cleared to turn on their radars.

________________________________________________________
Better Than Nothing

Captain Moore produced a plate of cheese and olives with flat bread, he poured himself a small glass of whiskey removed his hat and sat down on a chair next to the comms station. The timid young man left on the bridge with him looked at him with no small amounts of both shock and curiosity.

"What? I dont think Im going to get a chance to eat later."

"Didnt you just say they were obviously on their way? Shouldnt we be dong something?"

"Nope, all done."

"But we havnt done anything."

"Ive done all I know to do. Listen boy Im not sure you grasp whats happening here."

"I dont grasp it!" the yound man stodd with an incredulous look on his face.

"I know we are trying to run a blockade with a captain and a crew of ten men, just so you can keep on fucking schedule, I know there is a lifeboat in the water who has no communications, and there is no telling if the GPS auto-distress beacon is being jammed. They could all die, and all those men have families. All this so you could keep on fucking schedule, fuck your schedule!"

The captain sandwiched and olive between two pieces of differently colored cheeses, he fumbled with the thing as the olive tried to escape.

The man stared into the captain's face, the two men held each other's gaze, and the captain took his time downing his little snack then washing it back with whiskey.

"So am i to believe you are stupid enough to believe that this is really about being on time? Astounding. The Maritime Academy has really gone to shit it seems."

The young man's mouth began to work out words but he was quickly cut-off.

"I served on a frigate with the Omurchadha Navy, hardly could be called that. I was a part of the Damage Control unit, and fire response crew. Nasty work that second one, nothing worse on a ship than fire. Yes the irony is not lost on me.

I served with a good crew, and brilliant captain. I served ten years, I was in combat on more occasions than I care to recall.
We were sunk in the Fireheart-Ferrussian War. Captain Handjal went down with the ship, well more accurately he went up, the ship went down. Now, you may not know anything about that war, beyond we walked away with a pretty sweet deal for a defeated nation. But the nature of that defeat was inevitable, no one believed we could defeat the opposition. Not even for a moment. The point wasnt success, the point was that we, as a people do not allow ourselves to to be yoked for the convenience of others. Damn it boy, that is not an Armada vessel out there, we did not break any laws, not any of our laws, and not any laws of the sea.

Your grandfather tell you about the Erinin, and how they used to do us? We were no match for them, and where are they?
No more, thats where. Because at some point, one man, said 'Enough' . I dont give a shit about our schedule, and my men know it. But they dont need some speech about freedom, and duty, and obligation, they need work. We work, and that is what we are doing here. Working, the only difference is the job has changed. Today, we put a pebble on the shoulder's of a giant, and eventually when enough good men have laid down their pebble, we will break that giant's back. The thing is boy, it has to start with someone."

"So you dont have intention of surviving this."

"HAH, Im not going to shoot myself either."

"Now listen boy, once they get aboard and the scuffle finds its way here, I want you to lay face down on the deck, put your hand on your head. They are likely going to beat you, but dont fight back, just man up, take the beating. You will survive this."

"Well why I dont I just go out an surrender to them now?"

"Cant, they are preparing to board a hostile ship, so if you are deck, they will subdue you, and that might involve a bullet in your brain. Face down on the deck in the bridge after its clear they will take you, but wondering below decks looking for them, you'll get yourself killed dead as Dickens."

"Well what if I go above deck?"

"Well aside from the fact we are welded in, and you would have to go to the far end of the ship to get above deck, the fire and the smoke are there to cover an ambush...would you like to be mistaken for an Ambush?"


"So lay down on the deck and cover my head you say?"

[Lamoni]

FRLS Olympus

Casting off of the mooring berth that had been assigned to it, the engines of the Type 35 patrol frigate left the Kazatlan
Naval Base. As the lead frigate of the one-hundred frigate task force dedicated to search and rescue operations for those who were suffering the effects of the Gordonopian blockade of Skibereen, the Olympus was the last of those frigates to set sail. The task force would set sail around the south of the Lamonian/Skibeeren landmass, shortening the amount of time required for them to reach their stations off of the Skibereen coast. A steady stream of Duenna class fast resupply ships would also blaze a trail between the task force and naval base at Kazatlan, ensuring that the task force would receive a steady stream of supplies. Any rescued survivors would be flown by helicopter to Skibereen, where the government there would perform the long-term sorting out of those who had been rescued.

However, this was not all that these frigates would do. Unbeknownst to United Gordonopia, the frigate task force would also observe the Gordonopians performing their blockade of Skibereen. If and when the order came down, the observation of Gordonopian blockade habits would provide any naval strike with very useful information, potentially enabling the decimation of the Gordonopian blockade force. At the same time, the Lamonian government would be monitoring the situation, including predicting the best time to reach forward with the proposal to the government of Skibereen of having their merchant shipping use Lamonian ports, with the cargo of those ships being sent into Skibereen by railroad, car, or aircraft. In the view of the Lamonian Government, the government of Skibereen had done nothing wrong, and that the blockade put in place by Gordonopia had imperialist aims embedded in it. It would simply be up to Lamoni and Skibereen to show the Gordonopians what happened to a blockade when it had no access to resupply and rearmament, but only at the right time.