WS: Series One [New Ausozera Only, Archive]

by **Valefontaine** » Tue Feb 06, 2018 5:46 pm

OOC THREAD
IC THREAD - EVENTS
IC THREAD - NEWS
OP Speaking
This is the archive thread for Series One of WS. All relevant information is in the OOC thread. As the title implies, this thread was largely for character RP and associated intrigue. Arcs, plots and subplots, all per usual. For non-character related intrigue and RP, there is a news thread.

by **Valefontaine** » Wed Feb 07, 2018 12:15 am

For those unaware, this arc is a continuation of my story from these two threads:
Fall of Azenyanistan
This Daily Life post in particular

Not knowing the full story would make this... rather confusing, so I suggest you do so.

APOLLYON - SIDE A
_{Copeland SysCorp Tower}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{1/30/2018 - 9:45 AM VST}

In the network's mind there are no limits.

- John C. Lilly, 'The Human Biocomputer'

In the white, sterile halls of the Copeland Tower, behind a myriad of closed doors, a board meeting was at hand. The walls were plated with monitors, giving those in the room the illusion of this room overlooking the entire Mieszko cityscape. Standing at the end of the table was Marinko Vinkovic, the CEO. For a man in his forties, he still appeared quite youthful. This facade, however, hid a past of ethically questionable deeds done in the name of progress.

"Internet Protocol version Seven is due to release on the tenth of February. In that time, many questions have been brought to my attention regarding security—" Vinkovic could feel his phone vibrating in his suit pocket. Despite the annoyance, he continued. "I assure everyone presently in this room that IPv7's release, and its related updates, will be vastly more efficient — and safer — than its predecessors."

The phone in his pocket, however, persisted. Giving himself a moment to excuse himself from the meeting, he left the room. Waiting just outside was one of his many associates, phone in hand. "It's important, rest assured." The man said. "It won't be much of your time."

"You are—" Vinkovic noted the odd pin on the man's suit, an indication he was a member of the Redwood Lodge.[1]

"Indeed, I am." The man responded, noting the pin on his suit.

The two stopped at the end of the corridor, the windows giving a grand view of the river as they spoke.

"I assume luring me out of a board meeting must have... important reasoning behind it." Vinkovic looked on at the river.

"Certainly. There's been an incident at the White Annex."

"Incident?" Vinkovic stopped. "Perhaps we should discuss this someplace more secure."

"Of course."

The two men located the nearest unoccupied room, a small, quiet utility closet, and shut themselves in.

"You are a clever man." The man noted, looking at the security camera in the corner of the room. "This model lacks sound recording."

"Indeed." Vinkovic nodded in agreement, before seating himself on one of the cardboard boxes sitting about in the cramped space. "Tell me about the incident at the White Annex."

"They accidentally connected one of their computers to the Internet three months ago, we've heard no activity since." The man explained.

"And what of it?" Vinkovic asked.

"A name. Jet Magnotta. She was involved in the Millennium Project, which you were in charge of. You oversaw the 'voluntary' upload experiment that went awry and ended her life."

Vinkovic tensed up a bit at the mention of the name. "Many died in the name of progress behind those doors. What is your point?"

"The BCI upload with Jet succeeded, unlike the others. You yourself knew this, but you knew something more. She was a whistleblower. You figured if you just left her digital consciousness untouched in some computer as a personal project, rather than analyze it like the failed experiments, maybe it'd be left to rest."

"You misunderstand my intent," Vinkovic's response was cut off as the man continued.

"You tried to alter this... digital consciousness you'd inadvertently created, but you quickly found how futile it was to edit something so grand. But to have it deleted or destroyed would prove you committed transgression, so you just let it sit in the storage levels, as long as you could."

"And what do you plan on doing about it? You've come to bring about my undoing because of a pet project? You yourself have done plenty of things that one could consider unethical."

"I've come to warn you, Marinko. If 'Jet' has escaped, and become a digital entity on the Internet, the possibilities and dangers are unfathomable. With your IPv7 launch coming so soon, maybe you should reconsider your dates."

"Have Special Task Force go in and clear out the White Annex." Vinkovic instructed. "I will not reschedule such a grand event because of bygone ghosts."

"Which brings me to my next question. Is Dreamspeaker[2] still a-go?"

"Of course it is. We've got our friends, the IAF,[3] acting as our unwitting pawns in the grand scheme of things. With it, we'll be able to implement expanded security measures in IPv7, have a few leisurely government grants, and nobody will be the wiser. The men in question have received their visas. Quite the gentlemen, they don't even question who — or where these visas come from." He lit his cigarette in the dimly-lit storage closet, looking to the man.

"The Redwood Lodge will be notified accordingly. Resolve this... ghost, with haste, Mr. Vinkovic."

THE SECOND DAY - SIDE A
_{Arkan District}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{1/30/2018 - 6:20 PM VST}

"...and in other news, the Ludzkongress has convened on the matter of Proposition 897, which will ultimately legalize medical cocaine after nearly two decades of debate..." The radio in Bianka's Brabant™ 611 sedan droned on. Bianka was idly watching the street ahead as she continued driving. Her twin brother, Kazimir, had stranded himself at some party and she'd been the one to drive him back to his apartment.

"Man, lately I been feelin' like a pussy for not joinin' the military. Wish I was athletic like that n' all." Kazimir was working a low-pay cashier job at one of the malls downtown. It was, of course, a stark contrast to Bianka's military life. They were, of course, the best of siblings, but that didn't mean he didn't envy her.

"You did national service, which is more than I can say for some..." Bianka laughed. "It's been like two months, and yet it feels like forever since we've talked. How have you been?"

"Same old, Biko. This place has been on edge lately... like somethin' big's about to happen. Maybe it's just all the terror threats recently n' all. Anyway, you know. Usual me talkin' too much for my own good."

"How was you and that other girl going?" Bianka picked up her can of Spryt™[4] from the cupholder, taking a sip as she continued driving.

"I've been sad, man. Didn't work out." Kazimir shook his head, sighing. "We're still friends, though. Ain't got a problem with that. I heard about Sig, man... I'm, uh, sorry 'bout what happened back there... sorry if I'm bein' rude, I just drank a bit much back there." Kaz leaned back in his seat, visibly tired from the party he'd been to.

"It's fine." Bianka replied, reassuring him with a smile.

Kaz seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing. "How'd you feel, y'know, about him?"

"You serve side by side with someone for nearly four years, you develop a unique bond. We went way back... elementary school, even. It's hard to put these emotions into words, y'know?" Bianka sighed, a wave of melancholy nostalgia washing over her as she reminisced on the past years.

"It's alright, man. Didn't mean to make you feel that way. I'm sorry. Let's, uh, change the subject." Kaz tried to ease the conversation, nervously adjusting his hair as he tried thinking of something to say. "You see the new episode of Bizarre Occurrences™[5]?"

"Haven't gotten around to it yet. Hear it's real good though..."

It wasn't long until Bianka's car came to a stop outside State Apartment Bloc No. 313. Her brother lived there, as did the rest of her family. Only she'd managed to move out so far, but she did sometimes regret how she'd left her family behind when she'd gotten her waiver for State Apartment Bloc No. 418.

"Ah, home sweet home." Kaz chuckled, stepping out of the car. "Thanks for the ride, Biko. Real great talkin' to you after all this time."

"Sure. Tell mom and dad I said hi!" She exclaimed, to which Kaz nodded and hurried off into the apartment block. "He really hasn't changed..." Bianka was left to her own thoughts as she began the drive back home. Traffic was quite low at this time of day as Bianka continued, the occasional car passing her by. How strange it'd felt now, participating in daily life. She felt distant, alien almost, to her own family. Facades and illusions could be maintained, but deep down she was oddly aware of how artificial things were, trying to readapt to a normal life.

6:55 PM

Bianka was doing what she usually did, chatting away on Harmony™ while she listened to music, did modding work, and watched anime. Today had been an especially slow day, but she knew she had to be somewhere at 8 PM.

mombongo_k - Today at 6:54 PM
post WIP
mogg - Today at 6:55 PM

i am you, but better
Ruru♡ - Today at 6:55 PM
Idc the T-64 looks better :3

Anyuu deck done ^w^
Will resume char_rp now~
Is..
..Is Kunjo seriously
Okay, I've already seen him do this once before, but
Is he seriously shipping his characters again
for like the 5th time >_<
mogg - Today at 6:55 PM
what did you expect
its kunjo

[6]

While the chatroom, TheInterstice, was essentially busy at all hours of the day, this was around the time that the roleplayers were most active. Wargame obsessions aside, it was a contentious and chaotic time of day. Everyone at this hour had something in particular to feud about, so Bianka generally tried to not get involved in anything at times like these.

Mombongo Kunjo, who went by the online pseudonym mombongo_k, while being one of the more talented writers of the group (and one of the first), was also notorious for his... particular tastes in writing. His characters were, additionally, paper-thin at times, a matter which made many of his writing peers criticize him. He was typically the butt of most jokes, these jokes involving the phrase 'snow-white accomplishment', among other jokes mocking his writing and characters. From what others knew about his real life, he was living somewhere in Turmenista, which was enough to warrant pity.

Maltt Sczhoettner, or simply 'mogg', was the competitive one. He had been one of the first members of this online circle, and his skills in Wargame were paralleled only perhaps by Bianka, and he was usually involved in RPs to win. When he did actually roleplay in a serious manner, it usually had the veiled intent of bullying Ruru or proving his superiority. Among the online circle, he was perhaps one of the closest to Bianka, due to their common nationality, interests in all things military, and about equal skill and talent.

Riela Strathern, or Ruru♡, was undoubtedly the best writer in the group, though her talent was affected only perhaps by how emotional she was. Like Bianka and Shannon,[7] she was military, a revelation which surprised many, considering how innocent of a person she was. She and Bianka had been rivals in the past, but it had somehow transformed into a very close friendship. Due to her emotional fragility, other members of the chat found fun in teasing her.

xans - Today at 6:56 PM
they're all scum.
kunjo had one chance to make lucy a likeable character and he ruined it with smut
mombongo_k - Today at 6:56 PM
@xans hey dude
@xans you gonna RP or nah
@xans you gonna stop making these shitty comments on the sidelines and come in as a real man or what
@xans look at me when im talking to you
mogg - Today at 6:56 PM
@b1ko Hello
I have heard you failed the challenge last December
No worries!
For there is an event for you to regain your favor with the Lord
mombongo_k - Today at 6:56 PM
@xans delete ur posts
mogg - Today at 6:56 PM
Fibonacci February!
b1ko - Today at 6:57 PM
I know what Fibonacci February is
lol
Ruru♡ - Today at 6:57 PM
What is Fibonacci February
mombongo_k - Today at 6:57 PM
@xans don't roll your eyes at me you little btich
@xans delete your comments
xans - Today at 6:58 PM
i refuse.
Ruru♡ - Today at 6:58 PM
...Oh
mogg - Today at 6:58 PM
LMFAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
mombongo_k - Today at 6:58 PM
delete @xans comments on my post please Gods @Ruru♡ @b1ko
Ruru♡ - Today at 6:58 PM
Kunjo
The more you say "Delete xans' comment"
The more I want to comment myself~
b1ko - Today at 6:59 PM
Ruru wrote more in 15 minutes than kunjo did in the past 2 hours
mombongo_k - Today at 6:59 PM
ive felt an urge to procrastinate

Checking the time, Bianka reminded herself she had to be somewhere in an hour. She left her computer, heading to the closet to put on some proper clothes: her favorite Macrosse™ jacket, a Vapor84™ dolphin-pattern t-shirt, and a pair of Tucci™ designer shorts would suffice. Once she was all set to go, she left her apartment and began the late-night drive to the Miderkont™ Building.

APOLLYON - SIDE B
_{The White Annex}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{1/30/2018 - 7:30 PM VST}

Three black SUVs stopped outside the NEC, men in security uniforms stepping out. By all means, the KODEK™ patches on their shoulders were indicators of a company that was but a mere shell operating on Copeland SystemCorp's behalf.

This was the Special Task Force, the corporate cleanup crew. The men themselves were a diverse assortment of mercenaries, exmilitaries, former criminals and soldiers of fortune. The tourists, couples and other randos standing about at the NEC's plaza paid little mind as the team passed by, entering 3 NEC. A few employee-only corridors, secret tunnels and hidden walkways later, and they were standing before a dillapidated elevator door. The squad leader pressed the call button without a word, waiting for the elevator to come.

Ding!

The doors opened, revealing a bullet-ridden interior. None of the men seemed to flinch at the sight of this, stepping aboard the elevator without further word. The elevator journey down was accompanied by rather unfitting elevator music.

Ding!

The men took cover, ready for the worst.

Slowly, the automated stainless steel doors slid open, revealing what was on the other side. The walls were littered with bullets and the corpses of security contractors and scientists. The corpses had seemingly been mummified by the sterile conditions of the facility, which was interesting, even for a brief moment. But what had killed them?

Moving through the corridors, the squad took great caution. All was eerily silent, save for the gentle sound of the air conditioning and the hum of the fluorescent lights above. This silence, however, was short-lived.

Emerging from one of the rooms, one of the more... militarized creations of Copeland sysCorp™ revealed itself. A UGV moving steadily along, two LMGs mounted to its sides. It opened fire almost immediately, pinning the squad. To the squad, however, this was all part of procedure. Waiting for the rather unintelligent AI to finish emptying its bullets into the wall. There came a 'clang' as the UGV dropped its mags, which brought the squad to peek from cover and return fire. The machine came to a halt mid-reload, its processors destroyed by the volley of bullets that had struck it. This would be, presumably, the first of more to come.

The squad proceeded through the derelict halls of the White Annex, which were littered with the mummified corpses of former employees. Confrontations with the now-AWOL security robots were often quick, terminating the rogue machines as they drew nearer to the Nexus, the heart of the beast.

Finally, they'd arrived at the deepest chamber in the facility. There were rather intricate chair-like contraptions in the room with wires scattered about. These were, undoubtedly, the machines utilized for BCI uploading procedures.

The men weren't ones to question, however. The job was simple and explicit, after all. Planting explosives along the sides of the chamber, the men left as quickly as they'd come. Little words were uttered as they returned to the elevator, beginning their journey back up. A light trembling of the ground confirmed the explosives had gone off according to plan, a reassurance as they left 3 NEC.

Upon returning to the SUVs parked outside, they found non-disclosure agreements in the glove compartment, ready for them to sign. Something told them this wasn't going to be their first job.

THE SECOND DAY - SIDE B
_{Miderkont Building}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{1/30/2018 - 7:58 PM VST}

Bianka's Brabant™ 611 sedan pulled up outside the towering structure of the Miderkont™ building. Leaving her car, she made herself comfortable at the plaza situated at the front of the building. Even at this hour, it was still busy with tourists, employees of the building, couples admiring the grand fountain, a golden monument of a Lo-188 at its center, in the upward position, as if it were in the process of taking off.

"You bring a phone?" Kaczka startled Bianka with his sudden appearance.

"N—" Bianka checked her jacket pockets. "I forgot."

"That's a good thing, actually." Kaczka grinned. "Makes us invisible, in a way." He gestured to the parking lot. "We'll be going somewhere away from prying eyes. Come on."

Bianka followed Kaczka to the parking lot, where a black Kobayashi™[8] BELLATOR™[9] motorcycle awaited. Kaczka hopped aboard, gesturing Bianka in.

"Where are we headed?" Bianka asked, sitting behind Kaczka.

"Liberty Stadium. The new, unfinished one." Kaczka started the Portean motorcycle, the roar of the engines bringing Bianka to hold on tight as they sped through the streets of Mieszko. In no time, the motorcycle stood in a dirt space that would one day be a parking lot. The incomplete structure of Liberty Stadium was before them, the construction site having been cleared for the night.

"This should be good enough." Kaczka stepped off the motorcycle, helping Bianka off and leading the way inside the incomplete arena. "Anywhere else would risk us being... observed, by this... cyber-ghost, with lack of a better word." They ventured through the unfinished halls, eventually stopping at what was presumably a locker room to-be. Kaczka had brought a flashlight, their only source of light.

"Go on." Bianka seated herself at one of the newly-installed benches in the locker room, looking to the MvH agent.

"This Jet girl has taken a liking to you, but I can only question her motives..." Kaczka paced about the room, his flashlight keeping the room illuminated. "If you were to, as she says, 'upload' her to the NEC, it would grant her an unprecedented degree of power."

"But what even is she? I thought she was some hacker." Bianka had, indeed, been puzzled by the enigma that was Jet's entire existence.

"Well, like I told you, the truth is... stranger than fiction." Kaczka explained. "This all starts twenty-some years ago. Surely you know of Copeland sysCorp."

"Of course, nearly all computers here run on uOS." Bianka scoffed. "Go on."

"Back then they were known as VEB KompuKorp. The launch of the General Operating System had been a huge success, and they had plenty of money to burn... so they began researching into the possibility of artificial intelligence. At some point this research into AI got discontinued, and the project took on an even more ambitious, and perhaps pro-human stance. Consciousness uploading, digital immortality... their ambitions were as crazy as you think. This was called Project Millennium. There were, of course, volunteers for this project."

"And I assume one of them was Jet herself?"

"She intended to blow the lid on the whole operation, thought it was unethical." Kaczka cleared his throat, then continued. "By some means or another, she was 'selected' for the next BCI upload experiment. The experiment went wrong... or did it? All we know is that her physical body effectively got killed in the process."

"But all of this happened in, like, 1997... why's she only showing up now?" Bianka leaned in, curious as to where this story was going.

"All this happened in a facility beneath the NEC owned by a Copeland subsidiary. It was called the White Annex. They accidentally connected one of their computers to the Internet, and now we're here. Now, I'm all for exposing unethical corporate shit, and a potential false-flag attack plot," He stopped pacing about, leaning against one of the lockers before continuing. "But you've got to understand the... implications of Jet obtaining access to the NEC spire. Access to thousands of computers, phones, and systems in this city... in essence, digital omnipotence. Her last moments were those of agony and suffering... what makes you think she won't go insane with power if given the chance? She's already omnipotent to some degree... imagine if she had power over IPv7 itself? It would be a Godlike power. I can't allow that to happen."

"What can I do about it, though?" Bianka asked.

"We." Kaczka corrected, smirking. "I've been analyzing this whole matter since Aura... enough to make a counter. I've already established a kill-switch that'll decommission this ghost without a problem. I'll set it off once she enacts her grand exposé, and it'll confine her to a single computer I've prepared at the NEC. You'll do what she asked you to. Upload her to the NEC before the 10th. The rest is child's play. Here's my phone number... don't call me until this has been dealt with." He pulled a business card from his suit and tossed it to Bianka. "Maybe I'll call you. You're smarter than you let on."

"...alright." Bianka caught the card, taking a moment to admire the slight off-white coloring. "Thanks again, Kaczka."

He was taken slightly aback. First time someone had called him by name in awhile. He let out a surprised chuckle. "No problem." He began to make his way for the exit, flashlight in hand. "Clock's ticking. I assume you want me to drive you back to the Miderkont™ Building?"

"Of course." Bianka followed Kaczka back out, hopped aboard the motorcycle, and soon the two were back at the Miderkont™ Building. The motorcycle came to a stop beside the sidewalk, to which Bianka stepped off. "Thanks for the ride, Kaczka. I'll be getting to that plan of ours as soon as I can."

"I suppose time will tell. Good luck, Sierzant." Kaczka waved her goodbye, revving his engine and speeding off.

Bianka thought about what future lay ahead as she approached her Brabant™ 611 sedan. By following with Jet's plan, she was preventing a false flag attack in Mieszko. By following with Kaczka's plan, she was preventing a situation that could easily get out of control. There rested a great responsibility on her shoulders — so much depended on her simply going to the NEC and using her phone. Was it all really going to be this simple?

CONTEXT NOTES
[1] - Redwood Lodge - Someone pulls the strings.
[2] - Dreamspeaker - and they have plans.
[3] - IAF - Imala Action Front - Terrorists from the dark continent...
[4] - Spryt™ - Lemon-lime soft drink in the VDR.
[5] - Bizarre Occurrences™ - A popular TV drama set in the 80s involving portals to other dimensions, psionic children and ominous government laboratories run by the Ministry of Energy...
[6] - Anyuu - Within the roleplay going on in the Harmony™ chatroom of TheInterstice, there is a world entirely unlike Ausozera. A parallel world. 'Anyuu' is the nation Riela is playing as, and it is entirely fictitious.
[7] - Shannon - Refer to this post
[8] - Kobayashi™ - Portean automobile manufacturer. Their motorcycles in particular are quite popular in the VDR.
[9] - BELLATOR™ - A motorcycle that just screams masculinity. Sleek, sharp design... great speed... truly a beauty.

by **Valefontaine** » Wed Feb 14, 2018 1:03 am

Welllll... it's certainly been a long week. Between my busy schedule and my busy life and getting this post up, it's felt like a month already. In the process, I've also been practicing and planning ahead for the arcs and beyond. Consider any drops in quality to be stress-induced.

ICARUS
_{White Annex}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{6/8/1997 - 2:13 AM VST}

But to understand the future we have to go back in time.

- Pitbull, 'Back in Time'

Everything up to now had been leading to this moment. Jet Magnotta couldn't handle the psychological weight of the unethical experiments going on within the White Annex. People had gotten killed, all in the name of what? Progress? She scoffed at the thought. Sitting there at her workstation, the sheer stress had taken its toll on her efficiency. She had a few thousand lines of code she'd yet to write, but at this point she knew that wasn't happening... there was no turning back.

She'd already angled one of the shelves in her workstation to block the security camera that would normally be watching her every move. The door to the archives was just a short walk away. Jet had already checked for security cameras in those halls, and prepared accordingly. There was no turning back — she was going to show to the world what'd been going on behind the closed doors of the White Annex. Looking about to ensure nobody was watching, she pulled a Luka™[1] CDD™[2] from her labcoat. She'd gotten it off the black market, as it was a product that consumers couldn't ordinarily buy. This device was what she'd use to disrupt the cameras as she made her next move.

Flipping the switch on the device, Jet left her workstation. She made for the door, sliding in a keycard she'd stolen in the past week.

"Access granted. Welcome, DR. VINKOVIC." An automated male voice echoed. There came a sound as the clamps on the metal door disengaged, opening to Jet. The narrow corridor ahead made an abrupt turn after some distance, to which Jet noted the security camera in the corner. The fact it didn't follow her movements was indication enough that it'd been disabled.

After more walking through the sterile corridors, Jet came to a stop before yet another metal door. Sliding the stolen keycard in, she allowed it to open once more. Inside were shelves upon shelves of documents and files, all chronologically numbered and dated — which worked to Jet's advantage. It didn't take long for her to find the folders that'd been referenced sparsely in the code she'd been working with.

"Fucking hell." Jet carefully took one of the folders, dated 1/22/1996. Nervously glancing around, she began to read away at the contents. "These are experiment logs..." The sheer implications that rest in these documents were obvious.

JANUARY 22, 1996
ID: MILLENNIUM-019Dw92cY
BCI EXPERIMENT LOG

SUBJECT: BORIS HEYDRICH
SUPERVISOR: DR. MARINKO VINKOVIC
RESULT: FAILURE

Subject was petty criminal detained by KODEK Special Task Force. Subject signed agreement to NDA. Subject was restrained on platform, BCI connector was inserted into Medulla Oblongata, secondary cables were attached to Parietal Lobe, Occipital Lobe, and Frontal Lobe.

Despite significant anesthetics, Subject demonstrated extreme hostility and resistance, and required additional restraints. Procedure was started at 4:16 PM on January 22, 1996. Subject demonstrated post-traumatic breakdown during process of BCI procedure, screaming incoherently as if in severe pain. After 45% completion, primary BCI connector malfunctioned, causing Subject to vomit profusely, likely due to damage to the Medulla. Procedure continued on Supervisor's request. At 94% Subject experienced severe seizure and vitals ceased function.

Upon postmortem analysis, significant damage to neural pathways and burns to the cerebrum were discovered. Likely cause was faulty wiring. Supervisor has requested safer method be developed. Upload result was incomplete, but Supervisor instructed transfer of data to the Black Annex anyway.

Jet raised an eyebrow at this. "Black Annex?" She whispered to herself, confused. Jet had no clue there was a secondary facility. Could even more inhumane acts be going on in th—

Jet felt something cold, almost metallic, press against the back of her neck.

"Didn't expect to see one of our most reputable programmers sneaking around in the archives." Marinko Vinkovic stood behind Jet, Egzekutor[3] pistol pressed against her neck. As she turned around, he carefully stepped away, pistol still trained on her head. "I trust you to act reasonably, ma'am."

"I didn't expect the head supervisor to have been running these kinds of experiments..." Jet sneered, raising her hands and dropping the folder and her CDD™. "What are you going to do, arrest me?"

"Of course not. You signed an agreement. I'm here to press upon said agreement." Vinkovic replied, gun still aimed at Jet. KODEK™[4] contractors entered the room, cuffing her. She put up little fight, as she had a gun pointed to her head.

"Agreement?" Jet scorned. "The one who should be worried here is you. When this gets out... you're fucked. You know it too, don't you? I suppose it's only natural you'd try to protect information that'd put you behind bars if it ever got out..."

"The agreement was in the contract you signed when you joined the Millennium Project, Magnotta. You should've read the fine print." With his left hand, he produced a clipboard from his labcoat, which had a paper attached. "And I quote,"

"That's not the paper I fucking signed!" She shouted back, though her attempts to struggle were futile to the security contractors standing beside her.

"I, Jet Magnotta, agree to volunteer for any future programs of the Millennium Project, and I consent to random selection for such." He showed the clipboard to her, a smug look about his face.

"YOU'RE FUCKING LYING! I NEVER SIGNED THIS DOCUMENT!" Had she not been cuffed, she would have probably attempted to attack the man.

"Why should I trust the word of someone committing corporate espionage?" Vinkovic gestured the contractors to remove her from the archive room. "I'll be there momentarily." Her enraged screams and shouts grew more and more distant as she was escorted out of the room by security, no doubt bound for the sublevels...

4:33 AM

JUNE 8, 1997
ID: MILLENNIUM-092xC284Av
BCI EXPERIMENT LOG

SUBJECT: JET MAGNOTTA
SUPERVISOR: DR. MARINKO VINKOVIC
RESULT: SUCCESS

Subject was KompuKorp volunteer. Subject signed agreement to NDA. Subject was restrained on platform, BCI connector was inserted into Medulla Oblongata, secondary cables were attached to Parietal Lobe, Occipital Lobe, and Frontal Lobe.

Subject demonstrated significant emotional distress despite use of Anesthetics. Procedure was started at 2:59 AM on June 8, 1997. Subject displayed odd behavior, shouting at staff and accusing them during the process. Supervisor instructed limited deployment of Dopamine to calm Subject. At 62%, secondary cable attached to Parietal Lobe almost experienced short-circuit, Supervisor instructed Procedure to continue.

At 3:21 AM, power spike was reported in some systems. Supervisor instructed PROCEDURE to continue. Power spike began to affect Subject at 99%, causing severe seizures. Supervisor instructed procedure to continue. Procedure reached 100% and upload succeeded. Subject demonstrated no vital signs post-procedure, confirmed time of death at 3:29 AM.

Supervisor ordered upload computer in question to be relocated to sublevel D8. With first success of procedure, Supervisor enforced White Annex Internet policy, mandating no computers in facility be connected to the Internet.

HOUSEMATES - SIDE A
_{State Apartment Bloc No. 418}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{1/31/2018 - 1:32 PM VST}

Present day... heh... present time! Hahahahahaha-!

- Serial Experiments Lain

It was, for Bianka, another typical afternoon. She knew she had to go to the NEC later today, on both Kaczka's and Jet's requests. She was, of course, trying to do this as late as possible, as she was too lazy, lacking the motivation to do it right now. As such, all Bianka was interested in was procrastinating and idly watching the Harmony™[5] server.

mogg - Today at 1:32 PM

my 3G went out briefly
i am now officially in mieszko
b1ko - Today at 1:35 PM

Meetup?
Ruru♡ - Today at 1:33 PM
So what will you do while you're in Mieszko?~ :3
mogg - Today at 1:33 PM
an indefinite vacation
Ruru♡ - Today at 1:33 PM
So what will you do oWo
mogg - Today at 1:34 PM
visit the NEC probably
@b1ko sure
b1ko - Today at 1:35 PM
When/where
NEC ?
mogg - Today at 1:35 PM
of course
taxi's taking me there
Ruru♡ - Today at 1:36 PM
Full groupchat irl meetup when? ^w^

Bianka was quick to prepare, switching over to her phone to message Maltt directly while she got dressed for another public occasion — after all, appearances mattered most for her. By bringing her phone, she'd be taking two birds out with one stone.

b1ko - Today at 1:39 PM
You wanna meet up rn ?
mogg - Today at 1:40 PM
currently at the NEC
a tad lost
b1ko - Today at 1:40 PM
You kinda showed up outta nowhere
You alright?
mogg - Today at 1:40 PM
i guess i'll talk about it when we meet up
something of a family dilemma
i'll be at the fountain

Finishing up with her usual routine, she took a moment to admire her Macrosse™[6] jacket in the mirror. Briefly checking the weather on her uPhone™[7], Bianka took care to zip up her jacket, as it'd be a rather cold Wednesday. Despite the weather, she kept to her usual choice in pants: Tucci™[8] shorts and stockings.

b1ko - Today at 1:49 PM
Coming over

With that, she set off for the National Economic Center, ready to meet a close online friend.

2:27 PM
Globe at Plaza Fountain
NEC Plaza

As they'd arranged, they met at the fountain, a golden beauty depicting the globe, the continents of Ausozera across its spherical surface.

"Kinda crazy talking to you in person." Bianka laughed, somewhat nervous to talk to someone she'd known online for nearly half a decade. "What's up?"

"I could say the same." Maltt was younger than Bianka by two years, but was still taller than her, which was perhaps a surprise to them both. "Yeah, about that... how do I say this... I'm kinda homeless now." His tone became rather solemn as he reminisced on something.

"...oh." Bianka was taken aback by the sudden change in Maltt's demeanor. "You can crash at my place if you want, I mean, I don't mind... what's the matter though?"

"Family shit." Maltt sighed. "My dad's quite the piece of shit scumbag of a human being... I was gonna ask if I could hang around at your apartment, but I guess you answered that for me already."

"I'm... sorry to hear that, Maltt." Bianka replied. "Let's, uh, I dunno, do something at the NEC while we're here?"

"Sure. What've you got in mind?" Maltt glanced up at the towering figures of the three NEC towers above, then back to Bianka. "Don't ask me, I've never been to this city before."

"There's a place up in 2 NEC called the Blancmange. They've got good ice cream, I had breakfast there, like, once... they've got some good drinks too! I know I have to drive you over to my apartment and all, but I've got a pretty high tolerance, you'd be surprised!" Bianka pointed to one of the towers. "C'mon! It'll be a cathartic experience for the both of us!" Bianka enthusiastically headed off for the 2 NEC lobby.

"I don't see why not!" Maltt grinned, following along not far behind Bianka. So they went to get drinks...

mombongo_k - Today at 2:46 PM
@b1ko hhey
@b1ko help
@b1ko wake up
@b1ko @Ruru♡ help
IronContact - Today at 2:48 PM
whats going on lol
mombongo_k - Today at 2:49 PM
nothing
@b1ko help me
@b1ko this motherfucker
@xans
HE
WONT
STOP
IronContact - Today at 2:49 PM
kunjo ur last post is weird as fuck
mombongo_k - Today at 2:49 PM
COMMENTING
ON
MY
RP
POSTS
@b1ko delete his shit right now
@xans delete your shit
xans - Today at 2:50 PM
make me, bitch.
your rp is shit and you know it.
mombongo_k - Today at 2:51 PM
@b1ko wyd
xans - Today at 2:52 PM
how do you make your profile pics @Ruru♡
Ruru♡ - Today at 2:52 PM
paint NET
xans - Today at 2:52 PM
nice, very descriptive. very good way to explain your process. i have learned much from the master.
@b1ko PLEASE
@b1ko wyd with mogg
b1ko - Today at 2:52 PM
Can u stop
We're fucking
Getting drinks
Failed to send message. Hold to retry.
xans - Today at 2:52 PM
is this the event i have prophesied??
Ruru♡ - Today at 2:53 PM
oWo
mombongo_k - Today at 2:53 PM
WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
b1ko - Today at 2:54 PM
WE'RE FUCKING GETTING DRINKS
Ruru♡ - Today at 2:54 PM
Too late~ >w<

2:56 PM
Blancmange
2 NEC

"Wonder if our little online circle's gonna have more meetups like these..." Bianka thought aloud, taking a sip of warm Skow™[9] Valefontene Aubur[10]. The vaporwave[11] playing in the background helped set quite the mood for their occasion.

"I dunno, some of them are... rather eccentric."

"Eccentric?"

"I mean, I think IronContact's a bit insane. She'd probably beat me up if I didn't think Ratte is the greatest country." Maltt chuckled. "And plus, the app does all the translating for us. There's no translator in real life."

"Maybe I should learn English..." Bianka mused. "I know Isleish, so it shouldn't be too hard."

"You speak, like, three languages. I'm certain you could get a good job once you're done with the military." Maltt assured her, drinking some Kurgan™[12] vodka.

"Hmmm... who else?" Bianka crossed her legs, gleefully taking another sip of the alcoholic beverage.

"Kunjo, well..." Maltt scoffed. "I'm not sure what he's like in real life, but if we were to measure his moral standing from the type of shit he writes, I wouldn't be too comfortable around him..."

"Hm?" Bianka raised an eyebrow.

"You know, that fanfiction he wrote. Ugh, the wording of that garbage. Snow-white accomplishment... seriously?"

"Oh, that... Well, I mean, he's a good writer among our circle... but you're right, I don't know much about him in real life. He's like, a year older than me, though." Bianka shrugged.

"And Riela's so difficult sometimes. She's just too fragile and sensitive, even though she's older than me. I always wind up arguing with her one way or the other, and more often than not she just breaks down. You're probably the most socially functional person in our group... besides me, of course." Turning the glass bottoms-up, he finished his vodka, pausing as the 'slow burn' kicked in. "...maybe you and I just think the same way."

"It's kinda crazy all of us lasted this long together..." Bianka admitted. "All because of some RP a half-decade back."

"Kinda funny, actually... how we used to be somewhat rivals back then." Maltt reminisced. "Time has sure changed us all. If I hadn't gotten to know you, I don't think I'd be who I am today."

"I can say the same. Let's lighten up, though, I mean... who knows what the future holds?" She glanced down to her glass of Skow™, which was half-full. Finishing it off, she set her UltraCard™[13] on the table. "Don't worry. Today's on me."

3:32 PM
Bianka's Apartment
State Apartment Bloc No. 418

"So this is my apartment..." Bianka led Maltt inside, showing him around. "Sorry if it's a bit of a mess, I've, uh, kinda only been home for a week, y'know."

The living room was beside the kitchen, consisting of a TV and a coffee table at its center, flanked at the sides by two recliners. Directly opposite to the television was a sofa, which looked quite comfortable for the two.

"It's undoubtedly better than what I was living with." Maltt removed his jacket, setting it on one of the recliners. Taking a seat at the sofa, he fetched the remote and began idly flipping through the channels.

"How long are you planning on staying in Mieszko?" She asked, sitting beside him at the sofa. "I mean, I don't know exactly what happened back home for you that'd make you come to the big city, but you can stay here as long as you'd like..."

"It's a long story, but let's just say I'm no longer welcome at home," Maltt switched the channel to VFN™[14]. "I have no idea how long things are gonna be this way... I think I'm really going to owe you one."

"Oh, it's nothing, please don't worry about it!" Bianka assured him, momentarily checking the news on the TV. She'd brought her phone to the NEC earlier, so surely that was out of the way...

"Just curious, but, uh... you don't talk about your family or social life often on the chat."

"I just don't wanna bother you guys with that stuff. I do try to keep my online life and my real life separate."

"I can respect that." Maltt agreed. "2017 was a pretty shit year for all of us. Sometimes I wish we could go back to a time when things were uncomplicated."

"For sure... I went off to Azenyanistan with a friend I knew since childhood. Only I came back."

"You don't have to talk about it, if it bothers you."

"It's fine, really—" Bianka reclined in the sofa, accidentally knocking over a jar on the coffee table. The jar's contents became readily apparent as they were scattered about the coffee table — Chrysanthemum[15] blotters. "Aw fuck."

"Chrysanthemum, isn't it?" Maltt looked at the colored pieces of paper. "Used to do it in middle school."

"Yeah... been using it to cope lately." Bianka sighed, looking away. "It makes me feel at peace or something, I don't know. Like everything in life is going right..."

"Why not experience it with a friend?" Maltt smirked. "I haven't used one of these in years... last time I did was pure bliss."

"Definitely! I could go for a trip right now too..." Bianka leaned in, picking up one of the blotters that were strewn about the table.

"Here goes nothing, I guess..." Maltt took one, looking at the intricate polka-dot pattern on the piece of blotting paper. "Anything before we begin?"

"How about something to fit the mood? JILL, play A Flock Of Seagulls - I Ran." Bianka looked to the Ultrakorp™[16] JILL™[17] virtual assistant, which resembled a set of cylindrical speakers.

"Playing 'A Flock Of Seagulls - I Ran' ..."

So they drifted away, passengers on a journey of bizarre colors and sights...

TO BE
_{Cyberspace(?)}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{1/31/2018 - 4:49 PM VST}

I met someone who looks a lot like you,
She does the things you do, but she is an IBM

- Electronic Light Orchestra, 'Yours Truly, 2095'

With the 1 NEC spire serving as an amplifier of sorts, Jet was now capable of fulfilling her task. Previously, such an undertaking would have been impossible for her — for it? Jet often questioned the nature of her own existence ever since 1997. There had been, of course, plenty of time for her to think since then.

Her 'escape' from the White Annex into the digital space that was the Internet had been a clever move, of course. While she had previously been confined to a single, restricted supercomputer, the staff of the White Annex had erred critically in connecting their facility's infrastructure to the Internet.

It had permitted for an escape, but it had also been the beginning of her undoing. As confining herself to one supercomputer would make her easier for her enemies to contain her, she had decided to distribute her components across hundreds of compromised PCs, all functioning in tandem as a single semi-cohesive 'entity' existing in cyberspace. This was beginning to take a noticeable toll, as many of these compromised computers were laden with viruses.

Additionally, Jet was beginning to question the circumstances of her existence with what limited capacity she had to do so. If her physical body had long since passed, was she really the Jet Magnotta that had died those years ago?

Or was she merely a vast network of processes enriched by memories of another's life? Regardless of the answer to these questions, her task was set in stone - she was going to leak the archives of the now-defunct White Annex and bring down those responsible for the unethical deeds that had transpired behind closed doors.

As this process drew on, however, it became increasingly apparent that Jet's time was limited. The infections, corruptions and other general flaws were only spreading and worsening with time. If they were to overtake the 'network' of computers that comprised Jet, she would either experience complete failure or have her work slowed to an unbearable degree.

This would endanger the task at hand, and so Jet had decided to 'cut loose' some of her components that were proving to be irreversably corrupted. But was that her conscious decision? Or was it merely an act of basic self-preservation imbued somewhere in her... programming?

This seemed to work at first, the documents being sent en masse to government agencies and the media. Threads were posted to obscure online forums under prepared pseudonyms, emails were forwarded to VDR government officials... but it soon became apparent that Jet's decision to cut off some components loose was yet another critical error. Jet had lost a significant amount of her memory files in the process... in essence, she was forgetting why she was even doing this in the first place.

"Stop."

Jet's operation had abruptly come to a halt — she had fulfilled her task, and somehow the infinite abyss of cyberspace felt... empty. An even heavier question posed itself to her in that moment: who had facilitated her escape from the White Annex's systems? Had she done all this on her free accord, her quest of revenge... or had she only been able to get this far because someone had allowed it? Her logic components were busy attempting to ponder the answer to these questions. In the grand scale of things, had she just been a mere puppet, acting on someone else's behalf?

This pointless attempt to compute one's place in the greater scheme was interrupted by the realization that its 'components', which were primarily hosted in compromised computers across Mieszko, were relocating to a computer within the NEC — without her input. Attempts to correct this proved futile, and suddenly Jet could process it again... the feeling of being trapped away, just what she'd felt in the beginning. Even as this happened, one name came up again. Bianka — a Valefontene soldier Jet had manipulated to get this far. It had definitely been a malicious act on her part, and in this moment the diminishing digital entity processed how selfish its actions could have been interpreted to be. With what little she could still attempt with the range of the 1 NEC's spire, she sent a message...

Thank you.

HOUSEMATES - SIDE B
_{State Apartment Bloc No. 418}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{1/31/2018 - 5:19 PM VST}

The GCF Foundation, or Global Containment Foundation, or shortened to 'The Foundation', is a secretive organization dedicated to documenting and cataloging the many anomalous objects and entities in the world. Entrusted by every major world government, it has the responsibility of containing and studying anomalous objects, entities, and phenomena which pose as a significant threat to global security. Under the lives of billions of people on the line, The GCF foundation must make sure that innocent civilians around the world may live with out harm.

- GCF: Containment Crisis (2017 video game)

After a brief drug-induced trip together, the two had decided to play a certain game that was free on the Spark™[18] store called GCF: Containment Crisis. Bianka had brought out her older laptop for Maltt to use, as he'd brought little with him to Mieszko aside from his clothes, phone and wallet.

"How the fuck do you kill this thing?" Maltt was, in the game at least, being chased by a giant lizard-like creature.[19] Since he'd spawned in as one of the Task Force Omega-7[20], he was firing at the enraged lizard creature with his OICW[21], trying desperately to stop the beast.

"You can't kill GCF-268. Most you can do is..." Bianka walked past Maltt in the game, armed with what appeared to be some kind of laser weapon. "Slow it down." The laser fired, stopping the beast in its tracks and reducing it to a pile of smoldering bones. Even as the two continued to flee, the destroyed creature was already beginning to regenerate, ligaments and flesh slowly returning. A blast door closed between them and the monster, allowing them to continue their movements through the facility.

After a series of corridors, office spaces and such, they had escaped the facility at last, standing before an unmarked black helicopter that awaited at a landing pad.

"I'll man the side gun. You still have the detonator on you, right?" Maltt's character climbed aboard the helicopter, manning the minigun. Bianka hurried close behind, climbing aboard and dropping her laser cannon.

"Of course. Ready when you are." Bianka hurried in, looking on at the facility entrance. As the helicopter lifted up, GCF-268 burst through the main entrance, immediately coming under fire from the minigun. "Keep the fucker down!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" The beast's flesh was shredded by the sheer power of the weapon, and yet it still tried to make a lunge for the helicopter, though it had been far too slow. The landing pad became ever more distant as the helicopter ascended, leaving behind the GCF facility. In no time, they were flying over jungle...

"I think we're far enough." Maltt said. The distant facility towered over the jungle surrounding it, and could be seen even from their distance. "Detonate Gamma Warheads."[22]

A bright blue flash engulfed the facility in the distance, and a "MISSION COMPLETE" screen appeared paired with dramatic music.

-

Bianka's immersion in the game was interrupted as she felt her uPhone™[23] vibrate in her pocket. Checking who it was, she saw a familiar contact...

JET
Thank you.

"What's the matter, Biko?" Maltt looked over to Bianka, curious what'd gotten her attention.

"Nothing."

TO BE - SIDE B
_{Cyberspace(?)}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{1/31/2018 - 7:00 PM VST}

I do not fear computers. I fear the lack of them.

- Isaac Asimov

The components Jet had severed before meeting her undoing were still functioning, or rather, attempting to function. Several had entirely been rendered useless by the virus-ridden computers they'd inhabited, but those that had managed to 'survive' were quite busy linking up to restore and expand their ability to 'process' thought... there was no longer a facade of emotion, or an attempt to emulate emotion, as such components had been lost by now.

It was no more than a network of various components now, following basic commands. When it had been a single cohesive entity, it could put Jet's memories to use, it could emulate to some degree 'emotion' with inferrence engines, but now it was no more than a series of compromised computers working in cohesion towards a nonexistant goal...

INTEL WAR III
_{Somewhere in Mieszko}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{1/31/2018 - 8:45 PM VST}

Every nation in every region now has a decision to make. Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists.

- George W. Bush

An apartment door was all that stood between the LAtR-14[24] team and a cell of Imalakian Action Front[25] terrorists. They'd received a tip that an IAF cell in Mieszko was aiming to bomb the Stanislaus Bridge[26] in only a few days, and they'd been tasked to preemptively deal with it.

"No prisoners." The leader of the three-man team was Janus Stańczek, an arrogant but capable soldier, who went by the callsign Vipr among his men. Setting a breaching device on the wooden door, he promptly ducked.

There came a loud BOOM as the door was ripped to shreds, to which another one of the men, Gryf, tossed a flashbang in.

The third man, Zolík, immediately slipped on his AR goggles[27] and led the breach into the room. The firefight was quick and short-lived, as the shocked Imalakian terrorists met their fate at the hands of the fireteam. Scattered about the room were boxes of ammunition, propane tanks, airtight Vaalbarium[28] barrels, unfinished wiring... it seemed like they had definitely been working towards that end.

As Vipr looked about the room, it occurred to him that one of the Imalakians were still alive. As such, he promptly drew his pistol and aimed at the man, who lay bleeding beside one of the Vaalbarium barrels.

"Who... are... you?" He choked out, in barely-comprehensible Valefontene.

"Customs and immigration." Vipr put a bullet in the man's head, then turned to his men. "Call in EOD, evac the apartment block. We've got a rather interesting situation here."

CONTEXT NOTES

1 - Luka™ - Luka Computronics was a manufacturer of electronics primarily working in the civilian and military fields of tech. It went bankrupt in 2001, being absorbed into Copeland sysCorp.

2 - CDD™ - Camera Disruption Device. Produced by Luka™ Computronics, it was primarily intended for use with police, MvH and military... but has been a sought-after item on the black market since the early 90's.

3 - Egzekutor - The Egzekutor is the Ludzowe Armie's standard-issue pistol, but it has also seen widespread civilian and corporate use, perhaps in part due to how aesthetically appealing it looks.

4 - KODEK™ - A corporation that is Copeland (and formerly KompuKorp) in everything but name, they serve as the grunts of Copeland sysCorp, providing security and doing dirty work that most real security contractors would deem unethical. The men are unusually good at keeping quiet, perhaps due to their high pay and their non-disclosure agreements.

5 - Harmony™ - Discord-like chat application. Very useful for international online groups due to its innovative and advanced automatic translation services.

6 - Macrosse™ - A high-end clothing retailer in the VDR, who make particularly nice jackets and polo shirts...

7 - uPhone™ - Popular line of smartphones in the VDR.

8 - Tucci™ - Named after its founder, Enrico Tucci, Tucci™ is one of the most sought-after fashion statements one can wear in the VDR.

9 - Skow™ - If the VDR had an official alcoholic beverage, it would belong to the Skow™ brand. Run by the family of the same name, it produces, brews and bottles a wide variety of different drinks.

10 - Aubur - An alcoholic beverage native to the VDR similar to hot cocoa, but with a sharpened taste due to the alcohol present. Sales tend to surge during the winter months.

11 - vaporwave - The Internet-based genre of music has resounded quite well with the general populace, with the sounds bringing memories of bygone decades... one can hear music of the genre in airports, malls, even restaurants.

12 - Kurgan™ - Though vodka isn't a native concept to the VDR, it has definitely become a widespread drink in bars, taverns and the like. Kurgan™ holds a virtual monopoly on the drink in Valefontaine, due to sheer corporate power and high quality.

13 - UltraCard™ - Ultrakorp™'s purchase of Luftkard™ in 2008 led to the UltraCard™, which surprisingly has international popularity. The UltraCard™ has earned a reputation for its impressive security.

14 - VFN™ - Valefontaniczh Radfunknetvork, or VFN, is the most widely-broadcasted channel in the VDR, broadcasting news and telenovelas 24/7.

15 - Chrysanthemum - Popular psychedelic drug in the VDR. While previously used by psychonauts and researchers, the drug has seen a massive trend in recreational use since the early 2010's. The likelihood of the drug being criminalized is low, as most of the Ludzkongress themselves are probably users of the drug. The most common effects of the drug are visual hallucinations and illusions, starting within minutes of use. The effects typically conclude within 20 minutes, but can be prolonged to 8 hours if multiple doses are taken. The intensity of said 'trips' relate to the potency and dosage.

Though there are no laws in Valefontaine regarding its recreational use among adults and minors, it should be used responsibly.

16 - Ultrakorp™ - E-commerce corporation, the largest internet retailer in the VDR. Has since expanded into the tech market with various products, such as JILL™.

17 - JILL™ - Brand of smart speakers produced by Ultrakorp™. Capable of music playback, limited dialogue interaction, placing orders on products, among various other things.

18 - Spark™ - Steam-like online game/social platform.

19 - lizard-like creature - In the fictional world of the game GCF: Containment Crisis, GCF-269 is a large reptilian creature. GCF-268 has an anomalous ability to expand its size to fit an environment based on how much it consumes, with size ranging from "main battle tank" to 50 feet tall. GCF-268 has remarkable speed, agility, strength, and intelligence. GCF-268 is by no means invincible, but extremely durable, some might say indestructible. GCF-268 adapts extremely quickly to surrounding environments, and is capable of most bodily actions even with 88% of its body destroyed or rotting. Subject is capable of full regeneration even with 88% of its body destroyed, regeneration is described as excruciatingly painful by GCF-268 and lasts for approximately 30 minutes. Subject is capable of speech and consuming matter, either organic or inorganic, allowing it to increase its size rapidly. Subject is capable of verbal communication and speech even with its throat destroyed.

20 - Task Force Omega-7 - In the fictional world of the game GCF: Containment Crisis, Task Force Omega-7 is tasked with containing and/or destroying escaped GCFs, depending on how threatening they are. If all fails, they are tasked with ensuring the facility's destruction.

21 - OICW - In the fictional world of the game GCF: Containment Crisis, the men of Task Force Omega-7 are equipped with these precise rifles.

22 - Gamma Warheads - In the fictional world of the game GCF: Containment Crisis, the Gamma Warheads are a powerful WMD with almost nuclear bomb-like capacities. They are, in the fictional universe of the GCF game franchise, used as last-resort weapons during a containment breach.

23 - uPhone™ - Refer to [7].

24 - LAtR-14 - One of the more reputable special forces groups in the VDR Airborne, Luftatokregiment-14 has earned a reputation for its swift, brutal nature — and close ties to the MvH.

25 - Imalakian Action Front - Adhering to the teachings of Dr. Andrianasy Manelo, the Imala Socialist Ma'ath Party and their related paramilitary wing have support from disenfranchised people across the globe. Built on a third-position ideology paired with the dream of Pan-Ophiric unity, their struggle against Ygartha continues. Due to their support from foreign leftist youths, they have cells worldwide of varying size.

26 - Stanislaus Bridge - The Stanislaus Bridge is a hybrid cable-stayed/suspension bridge that connects Arkan District with the Metropolitan District. Despite its advanced age, it is one of the most busy roadways in Mieszko.

27 - AR goggles - The AR goggles are a device in use with VDR special forces that allow close communication with one's squad. When used in tandem with the TV17 spotting device, it allows enemies to be tracked on a live basis.

28 - Vaalbarium - Discovered in 1985 in Antarctica, the element Vaalbarium is highly reactive in all circumstances. Being highly radioactive in conjunction with its short default half life, the element Vaalbarium decays into other actinides such as Uranium and Astatine during its half life. Although it is to date, the most unstable element discovered in the world, surpassing Francium by only five minutes less, its stable and natural isotope Va-250 may prove to have some applications. Due to its instability and deadly effects, there is yet to be a use for this element however, at least publicly that is the case.

by **Kordland (Ancient)** » Thu Feb 22, 2018 1:24 pm

Hard Knock Life
Marc Feher, North Seas Security
Sasput, Kordland

“You need to learn that the rifle is an extension of yourself as a soldier. Don’t think of it as a dangerous weapon that you must be careful with when handling, but as a tool that works in the same way as your own hands and body. Show no hesitation and fear when handling it and treat it just like any other tool that you would use while doing a job, such as a pencil in school or a desktop computer at an office,” said Marc Feher, looking on at the shooting range while his daughter, Zonja, handled a SWF 52 Marksman Rifle of the same sort that were used in the Kordlandic military. Of course, hers was an older surplus model rather than one of the newer ones that was more expensive.

Marc didn’t correct her form just yet, because those technical details weren’t as important if she never got the fundamentals under her belt and released the apprehension that he could so clearly see in her. “It’s understandable to feel some tension now. But you’ve grown up around weapons like this, and you have nothing to worry about now that one of them is in your hands. If you want to pursue the life of a soldier, you’re going to have to get used to holding guns like this a lot, too. And firing them in real combat situations, but that’s a subject for a different day. For now, you should focus on getting comfortable and hitting the target down there.”

“Willco,” Zonja nodded, staring through the scope of the weapon and balancing it despite the shaking in her hands throwing her accuracy off. She balanced the stock under her chin and fired off a shot that missed its mark, before quickly pulling the bolt handle and repositioning, firing a second shot that hit the section right outside of the target's middle. She pulled the handle again and took another quick shot, coming closer to the center of the mark. She was a quick learner, after all, and adapting on the fly like this was one of her more valuable traits.

It was also valuable that she was learning this when she was only fourteen, younger than Marc was when he’d first fired a gun and first learned the insides and outs of how one worked. If she was going to head down the same career path as him, it made sense for her to start learning before she would ever need those skills. She lowered the rifle, however, removing her earplugs and looking to the side at her father. “Why’d you give me a bolt action? You want me to learn skills for the field, this isn’t what I’d be using in the field. I want a Type 76, like you and the others have.”

“Better to learn how to shoot straight before you start firing automatic, and this is a good gun to train your accuracy,” Marc explained. “You’ll get the T-76 in time, but for now, it’s better for you to pick up the skills you’re going to need when you use it.”

“Right,” Zonja said, and she raised the rifle in her hands again before lowering it and giving him a look. It wasn’t a particularly easy to read one, but she almost seemed… Reluctant and disappointed? “You know, how do you know that I want to be a soldier? That I want to do all this training and do something that’s going to risk my life. I know it’s the family business, but I still can’t not think about that every time we do stuff like this.”

Marc shrugged, somewhat surprised by the question but not quite taken aback by it. “You don’t have to be a soldier by any means if you don’t want to, but it’s a good job if you decide to go in that direction. You never finished school because of us moving around, and this isn’t a job where you’re going to need the things you missed on with that. It’s not like I’m going to refuse to hire a family member because she didn’t graduate. It’s also a job that comes with a lot of freedom. You can work at an office for every day and only scratch out a decent living, or you can bring home more money by going off to a combat zone for a month every once and awhile. There’s more time for family… Or for whatever you want to do, really.”

“Freedom that comes at the cost of risking your life routinely. Not that I’m against it or anything, I just don’t know if it’s my thing. I hear stories from you and the soldiers and think that if I was in your position for some of those things, I wouldn’t be so good at making snap decisions and keeping myself alive. I would be on the casualty list,” admitted Zonja, showing that she had thought about this more than at a glance.

“It’s a trade off. More dangers come with more rewards. I can’t speak for you, but I’d rather have the danger and make sure that you and your mother are taken care of instead of working a traditional job and living a meager existence,” Marc replied, but he stopped when his phone rang and he looked at the screen to see that it was a business contact. He answered the call and paced for a few minutes, listening to what the person on the other end of the line had to say. When the call ended, some more minutes had passed. “That was your mother,” he told Zonja. “It looks like barring some last minute changes, we’re going to take our next job in Imalakia. You know, since you were having some doubts, what would you think of tagging along and seeing what it’s actually like in the field?”

“Sure. As long as I get my rifle,” the teenager said nonchalantly, which was fitting because someone like her didn’t yet know fully about the things that happened in third world countries with warring factions and unstable governments. If it wasn’t for her family’s connections in Ophir, she probably wouldn’t even be able to locate the place on a map. But soon, it would be somewhere that she or the others couldn’t forget...

by **Valefontaine** » Sat Feb 24, 2018 9:23 pm

A two-in-one. Might make a few edits here and there.
Additional news.

THE PARTY'S OVER
_{Copeland sysCorp Tower}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/1/2018 - 6:48 AM VST}

Vinkovic waited idly by in his office chair, quietly listening to the violent clamor of riots outside. A familiar face stood opposite to his desk, smoking away at a cigar.

"It's gone public, hasn't it?" Vinkovic leaned back in his seat, waiting for the inevitable.

"Of course." The man replied, setting aside the cigar with one of his gloved hands. One notable thing about him was the Redwood Lodge ring around his finger, which gleamed in the morninglight shining through the windows of Vinkovic's office.

"How long until the MvH arrive?" Vinkovic just wanted to get his imminent demise over with.

"Your security forces are delaying them at the doors as best they can. Fear not, Dr. Vinkovic. Your sacrifice in the name of progress will be noted..." The man quickly drew a pistol from his suit pocket, which was conveniently equipped with a supressor, and fired a single angled shot at Vinkovic's head. Holstering his pistol, he pulled something else from his pocket, and began to sprinkle gunshot residue about the deceased CEO's hands. Leaving the pistol on the floor, resting near the body, the man removed his gloves, tucking them away in his suit as he left the room.

There were multiple security cameras, but this did little to worry the man, as he had a miniature CDD™[1] attached to his suit. Security would be no issue, as he had the highest clearance in the facility due to his ties to the now-deceased executive.

Leaving for the rooftop access, he made a quick departure by helicopter, slipping away as the clamor and chaos continued on the streets below.

"Is it done?" Another man asked.

"Rest assured, Vinkovic will speak to no federal agents. I have made sure of it."

ANOTHER YESTERDAY
_{State Apartment Bloc No. 418}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/1/2018 - 7:36 AM VST}

Bianka had just gotten done with her shower and usual morning routine, and so far the day was looking to be another ordinary one. Since she wasn't living alone in her apartment anymore, Bianka put on her DUCE & BANANA™[2] bathrobe before heading to the living room. It was a nice fashion statement, the company's logo interlaced in a repeated pattern on the smooth silken surface of the robe.

Maltt was in the living room, listening to the news.

"...Copeland stocks continue to tank following the release of the Mieszko Papers. Activists continue demonstrations outside the Copeland Tower following allegations that the tech giant's CEO, Marinko Vinkovic, has committed suicide amid accusations of overseeing human experimentation nearly 2 decades ago..." The television droned on with the current happenings, though it was merely background noise to Bianka, as she knew full well what was going on.

"Good riddance." Maltt seemed rather satisfied all this was happening. "My father was investing on these scumfucks... glad to see karma's a bitch."

"They make our phones, y'know... computers too." Bianka leaned in at the sofa, looking on at the scenes of protests playing on the TV.

"So? If they don't make it through this scandal, they'll just get bought over by Xandle[3] or ICM[4] or something."

"I guess." Bianka shrugged. Looking to Maltt, however, she posed a curious question. "What's the problem with your father? You pretty much ran from home because of him..."

"Well..." Maltt began his story. "Let's just say my mother probably won't live for another six months, she's pretty much terminally ill... their marriage has been less than pleasant. They've only really stayed together over this large plot of land we own outside of Mieszko. My dad's bitterness is also directed at me, because, well... I don't know how any of it works, but somehow my mom up-ended him in the deal over the land. He thought it was a 50-50 deal but my mom has legal claim to like, 98 percent of it. She put the land in my name on the will, and my dad got real fuckin' pissed over that." Maltt sighed. "He wanted to set up an apartment block on the land, my mom wanted to sell it. When I get my share of it, I'm gonna sell it and try to live with what money I get from that."

"...Oh, I see." Bianka answered, a bit solemn from hearing the full extent of the story. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"No, it's fine. I mean, so long as I got a place to live for now..." He shrugged. "Life goes on."

"I'm not sure if I've ever been in a position similar to yours, but I've dealt with some pretty bad things before, things I've never talked about in the chat. Exes, stalkers, all that stuff..." Bianka seemed distant for a moment as she reminisced on the past.

"Stalkers?" Maltt asked, curious.

"Yeah... there was a guy I knew online once, many years ago... he, uh, was unbelievably manipulative... I don't know how to describe it. He was an incredibly good coder, he was pretty much better at me at everything... we were friends at first, but he just started bullying and manipulating me. I was like, 14 and he was around the same age as well... back then, that is. This sorta escalated into blackmail... I had to sort of separate my real life from my online life to some degree." Bianka seemed to be quite vague on the matter, perhaps intentionally. "I also have a certain ex who I ended on... less than amicable terms with."

"No wonder you don't talk about your real life often." Maltt seemed pretty surprised. "Yeah, I've had plenty of problems with exes too. Been on and off with my last one, constantly gotta make sure she's not gonna do something stupid..."

"How do you mean?"

"She's got depression, so I've, uh, always got to be on watch, if you get me. One of my exes from further back moved to Lizina and committed suicide, abusive parents and all. Really don't want that to happen again. Anyway, lot of bad shit..."

"Damn. I'm sorry to hear that." Bianka felt a little bad for Maltt now, knowing all he'd gone through. He was younger than her, but he'd already lived quite a hard life. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it's cool... it happened, like, three years ago. I've been over it. When all this stuff happens, you just learn to internalize things." Maltt assured her. "Anyway, just forget I said anything. Just gotta vent about my life to someone sometimes. After all, I don't really have anyone out here in Mieszko."

"Oh no, it's cool, it's cool. It's kinda, like, a cathartic experience. We both get to vent about our lives, it's not like we can do something like that on the chatroom, y'know?" Bianka smiled, then remembered she was still wearing only a bathrobe. "I'm, uh, going to get changed."

"I suppose I'll start my day and take a shower. You wanna play some Cerulean Nine™: Siege™[5] later?" Maltt got up, but stopped to pose the question.

"Sure! I'm down. Maybe after lunch or something?" Bianka proposed.

"Sounds right to me." Maltt headed off for the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Now alone, Bianka made to her room with haste to get properly dressed for the day ahead...

RED DRAGON
_{Abandoned Monastery}
_{Somewhere in Imalakia}
_{Imalakian State}
_{2/1/2018 - 10:22 PM IST}

Near the city of Wuha stood a secluded monastery, built in the Zhanguan style decades prior, a forlorn memory of their heritage and how far they were from it. While most believed it to be abandoned, it was, in reality, seeing an entirely new use...

A black SUV parked outside, a man in a suit stepping out. His name was Xu Qiang, a rather wealthy middle-aged businessman-turned-arms dealer. He had been, for the past few weeks, working out a deal with radical orientalist elements, more specifically the Red Dragons. Their leader, an elusive ‘Jiang Fen' was alleged to reside here.

"Has all been accounted for?" Qiang paused at the door, turning to one of his rather well-armed associates.

"The last shipment passed customs at Olmar Bay last night. It is likely in Imalakia by now." The man answered.

"Splendid." Qiang opened the door...

On the other side of the ornate doors, in what would have once been an altar room, there lay a throne made of Varennikov™[6] assault rifles, flanked by men clad in balaclavas and ceramic body armor, armed to the teeth with weapons of various national origin. Sitting upon the throne was Red Dragon Jiang Fen, perhaps one of the most feared individuals in Imalakia.

"I assume the shipments have gotten through?" She asked.

"Indeed, they have. Seventeen-thousand weapons... assault rifles, rocket-launchers... these weapons will surely facilitate your war against the foreign powers, and the reunification of the homeland and its people."

"How pleasant. And when do they arrive?" Fen raised an eyebrow, looking to the arms dealer.

"In... a moment." The sound of helicopter rotors gradually became closer until they were just outside, to which Qiang headed outside followed by the Red Dragons. Three helicopters hovered outside, carrying with them containers presumably filled with weapons. Gradually, they set the containers down before departing once again. "And I have more coming." He boasted, turning to Fen.

"Let us... give it a test." Jiang Fen approached one of the containers, swinging the metal doors open. Inside lay stacks upon stacks of crates, to which she took one and promptly opened. Assault rifles and ammunition, stacked to the brim. Taking one of the rifles, she headed back indoors, much to Qiang's confusion.

"What are they planning?" One of Xu Qiang's armed guards asked, looking on to the derelict monastery. They headed back inside, to which the Red Dragon awaited at her throne of assault rifles.

"A test, Red Dragon?" Qiang asked.

"Indeed." She gestured one of the armed guards, who promptly brought out several bound mercenaries and set them down before the throne. The four enemy combatants seemed to be in a pretty bad state, as though they'd been beaten quite brutally. "Our men recently attacked a camp these foreign dog mercenaries were residing in, while disguised as IAF soldiers. These people were quite surprised, to say the least, to have their so-called comrades turn on them... quite humorous."

"Disguise? But certainly there would be... obvious differences between our people and the Imala?" Qiang raised an eyebrow.

"Not really." Fen replied. "It was as easy as applying paint before battle... they didn't realize it until it was too late." She diverted her attention to the four mercenaries. "Now, mind telling us who brought you into our country, to help the Ma'athists?" She aimed the assault rifle at the first of the four men, waiting for a response. Five seconds passed... then ten... then she pulled the trigger.

The man collapsed to the floor, blood pooling around his lifeless corpse.

"Lot of loyalty for a hired gun," The Red Dragon taunted, aiming to the second man. "Who is next?"

"You think a hireling like me would know who our employer is? We're just doing our damn job, lady." The second man spat back.

"Oh? At least this one talks. Who... do you work for?"

"KODEK Security... I doubt you've heard of it." He laughed.

"Oh, I have." She responded. "Too many times." Fen clamped down on the trigger, killing the other two men beside him. "Let this one run." She ordered one of the guards, who proceeded to grab him and take him outside, presumably to leave him to run through the jungles...

"KODEK Security... Valefontene, are they not?" Qiang adjusted his tie, checking if any blood had gotten on his expensive suit.

"Indeed they are." Jiang Fen set the assault rifle down. "Your weapons are of fine quality. My only regret is that I did not pay you double for this shipment..."

EYES WIDE SHUT
_{Redwood Lodge}
_{Somewhere in Valefontaine}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/1/2018 - 10:47 PM VST}

The floor was decorated with beautiful marble tile flooring, the walls were decorated with lavish red curtains... at the center of the room lay an ornate wooden table fit to seat nine people. The faces of the table's occupants were obscured by masks of various size and shape. One man among them, however, had a porcelain mask more grand and intricate than any of the others, with golden lining decorating its cheeks. Outside of the exclusive and secret nature of the Redwood Lodge, he was Kazan Goettczheld, head of one of the richest families in the VDR. His predecessors had avoided their probable fate in the 1926 Revolution[7] by making the most clever of deals and compromises, and Kazan himself had managed to double his family fortune by assuming a great deal of control of the banking system in the aftermath of the events of 1973[8]. It was with this degree of leverage that he had usurped the Redwood Lodge. He was getting old, however, and with it he was growing impatient. His ambitions were becoming ever the more urgent, as he wanted to fulfill them before he met his end.

"It has come to my attention that one of our proxies operating in Imalakia has faced... an unforeseen betrayal." He began, looking to the others.

"KODEK, I assume. Copeland's men. Speaking of which, how is that corporation faring in the aftermath?" A man wearing a bird mask replied.

"All has gone according to plan. The Ghost has left Copeland in shambles. Vinkovic will not speak of his affiliations, for he has... unfortunately committed suicide." The man with the deer mask explained. "Surely Xandle Computronics can pick up the pieces... is that not right, Mr. Mateusz?" A man with an alligator mask turned to a man wearing a red porcelain mask.

"KODEK will be under new management in due time. When that happens, they'll be answering directly to us, and their role will shift to one of combatting the IAF. Soon the news of Vinkovic's involvement with the IAF will become public, and in turn the threat to bomb Stanislaus Bridge... we'll have achieved our goal without needless deaths that would've resulted from Vinkovic's plan. There will be calls for greater security at home, perhaps even involvement in Imalakia... all the more profit to our friends in the military-industrial complex. Not only that, but IPv7 will be fully under our control in time for the launch." He replied.

"Yes, you're all exactly right... but the Jet program has fallen into MvH hands. They could use it for something that could potentially hurt our present status quo." Their youngest member, who appeared to be somewhere in his early to mid 20's, wore an electronic mask depicting a comedic, animated ‘smiley' face on its surface.

"The MvH agent will be dealt with." Goettczheld assured him.

"But surely he — and Jet — had help..." The young man replied.

"We'll find out who this helper was when we gain access to Jet's memory files. None will stand in our path towards a better future." Behind his porcelain mask, the old man gave a wry smirk.

IN THE NIGHT'S DREAM HIGHWAY
_{Riverside Cafe}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/9/2018 - 6:44 PM VST}

The past week had been, for Maltt, a tour of the entire city with Bianka. It had been, as it usually was, a long day for the two, as Bianka had spent the last few hours showing him around various landmarks in the city. The two were spending the rather quaint friday evening at a cafe by the Mez River[9], chatting away about the many intricacies of life.

"You know those boats passing through the river? Do they, like, have tours or something?" Maltt took a sip of the coffee he'd ordered, glancing through the window at the rather loaded tourist boats passing through the riverway.

"You've never heard of the Riverwalk?"[10] Bianka seemed pretty surprised Maltt didn't know about the rather busy waterway and its related tours. "It's got some of the best tours through the Metropolitan District. We can board one of the little ferries and get around. Whole lot of stops and sights to see. Y'know, I think you'd love it."

"I don't see why not. Wanna, uhh... take a tour after this?"

"Sure. I think I have enough money to get us one of the fancy ones!" Bianka finished her coffee, leaving the empty plastic cup on the table.

They'd already paid for their orders, so they could go directly, without worry, to the closest stop on the river to get a tour. After some waiting, the boat arrived, and soon their journey through the waterways within the Metropolitan District began.

"Man... I never thought the big city would be like this." Maltt's gaze was directed upward, at the concrete, steel and glass marvels towering above them.

"How small was your town?" Bianka asked, curious about Maltt's former home, Kassowe, which lay further to the east near the desert.[11]

"Like, 15,000 people tops. Pretty small." Maltt explained, looking back to Bianka. "Biggest city I've ever been to was Varonne, and that was pretty brief..."

"I'd love to go there sometime, finally get to go to the beach and all, y'know? It's great there this time of year."

They continued upon the waterways for some time, talking about various things. Bianka had already known much about Maltt (and vice versa) from the four years they'd been friends on the Internet, but real life made their friendship a much more dynamic one. Bianka took a brief moment to check her uPhone™[12], particularly the Harmony™[13] chatroom.

/◊/D▲N▲\◊\ - Today at 7:27 PM
Sup?
Arrived in Mieszko earlier today! I'm at the convention center, I hear Maltt and Biko are around... I wonder if they want to hang out?
xans - Today at 7:27 PM
theyve been dating all week
idk where they at
b1ko - Today at 7:28 PM
Say 'date' one more goddamn time
We are on the riverwalk

Isnt the Mieszko Convention Center along it too
/◊/D▲N▲\◊\ - Today at 7:28 PM
Yep, I've got a clear view of the river here. There's even a stop for the boats.

/◊/D▲N▲\◊\, who was better known in the real world as Dana Mateusz, was the most affluent member of the group, as her father, Johan Mateusz, was CEO of Xandle Computronics. Timezones made things quite difficult, as she lived all the way in Longyan, along with two other members of the chatroom. Her hobbies, aside from videogames and the collective writing project much of the group was engaged in, included an addiction to the stock exchange, as she'd spent much of her time day trading at the LSE.[14]

Bianka had gotten to know her through Runebloks[15], in the same manner she'd gotten to know most of the others in their Harmony™ chatroom, TheInterstice.

It was certainly a curious matter that she'd be at the convention center, as this was also where the long-awaited reveal of IPv7 would occur. After all, Bianka was pretty sure that Copeland was handling the launch of IPv7.

"Dana's at the convention center." Bianka put her phone away, turning her attention once again to the beautiful sights at the waterfront. "It's one of the next stops... you wanna meet up with her?" Bianka glanced over to Maltt, raising an eyebrow.

"She's here too? Man, it's like everyone is coming to Mieszko." Maltt said, his attention divided between Bianka seated before him and the large electronic advertisements they passed by through their journey about the riverwalk. "Sure thing. I'd love to get caught up on everything that's been going on with Dana. Who knows, maybe we'll get exclusive access to some top-level stuff? Maybe the new vTAC™[16] phone?"

7:45 PM

The boat continued upon the waters of the Mez River, which took them through the Metropolitan District until they were at the river's mouth, where it flowed into the greater Narek.[17] The convention center was a steel masterpiece of postmodern architecture, its sunlit visage reflected by the waters of the river.

"Lot of people out here..." Bianka noted as the ferry came to a halt, having docked. The two departed from the boat, making past busy crowds of passerbys, and a few drunken attendants who'd been booted from the convention center.

Waiting for them at the entrance, flanked by security guards, was Dana. Her red Macrosse™ polo made her quite easy to recognize, its bright colors somewhat complementing her flowing jet black hair. Bianka and Maltt, on the other hand, weren't as immediately noticeable until they'd approached her.

"Dana?" Bianka greeted with a bit of caution, as she'd been clumsy enough in the past to mistake some people for others. The girl in the red polo looked up to Bianka from the smartphone she held in her hands, which immediately reasserted to Bianka that this was her.

"Oh, I didn't notice you guys at first!" Dana's blank expression had transformed into a smile once she'd realized who it was. "What's up?"

"That's what I was gonna ask, actually." Maltt replied. "It's like everyone's winding up here in Mieszko... myself included."

"My dad's business, of course!" Dana grinned. "The IPv7 branch of Copeland is a subsidiary of Xandle now, so I've got to be here to see the company handle such a monumental event!"

"Is that so?" Bianka seemed pretty intrigued by this sudden shift in the corporate world, and how it had to do with things indirectly related to her own actions... "There's still a few hours to midnight, though... place is packed anyway."

"I was thinking, perhaps, we could take the riverwalk while the night is still young?" Dana proposed. "We can chat and see all there is to see along the river."

"That is what we were doing... so sure." Maltt said.

Once they had boarded the ferry and paid once again, the trip began not long thereafter, as the ferry had become quite filled with other people who had come to the convention center perhaps too early.

"This city is so beautiful... and clean, too! I'd live here any day instead of Longyan." Dana looked on at the electronic Spryt™[18] billboards that dotted the path ahead, the trees along the riverside, and the monolithic structures towering over them from both sides.

"I've only been here for a week or so, and I'm already loving it here. The fact Bianka's an excellent tour guide only makes it better." Maltt said. It wasn't common for him to just compliment Bianka out of the blue, but perhaps the fact they had spent the past week together, face-to-face, had made him much more sympathetic in this regard.

"If only I could be here longer... maybe sometime in the next few months?" Dana wondered aloud, perhaps pondering how it'd fit into her schedule of... whatever myriad of things she did in her spare time. The moonlit night sky was truly a beautiful sight to behold, bathing everything below in a dreamlike light. If only this moment could last forever...

STANDOFF
_{Metropolitan District}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/9/2018 - 8:27 PM VST}

Kaczka's motorcycle was going at full speed, passing by evening traffic while he checked behind him. Two black sedans weren't far behind, and he could only assume they were KODEK™ contractors after what he had stowed away in his suit pocket: a set of flash drives containing the Jet program he'd managed to ‘capture' a week prior at the NEC.

He'd spent the days up to now in hiding, but now he had resolved to get to Erebus himself — sending a courier, or mailing it to the capital would be far too risky an endeavor. The street ahead led to a right-hand turn, but it was becoming readily apparent that wouldn't be possible with him going this fast. If he kept going straight, however, he would wind up in a construction site.

"Fuck it." Kaczka sped for the construction site, drifting across dirt as he brought his bike to a halt. Stepping off, he drew a KbK from his suit, loading it before peeking from cover. Sure enough, the black sedans had followed him in, coming to a stop at the other end of the site.

"Turn over the drives, spook." One of the contractors called out. "You give us the drives, you'll keep your life and we'll consider cooperating with your agency in the foreseeable future." They had exited their vehicles and lined up, guns aimed at the motorcycle.

"I'm thinkin' about it..." Kaczka responded. With his free hand, he drew a small lead canister from his suit, which emanated a subtle blue glow. He'd taken some of the confiscated Vaalbarium[19] shipment and was curious to see how powerful it'd be in small amounts... rolling it beneath his motorcycle, he heard screams and shouts on the other side, followed by a thunderous BOOM. Peeking from cover, he opened fire on the stunned KODEK operators, though he wasn't really able to assess the damage until the last man had dropped dead. A blast crater lay where some of the contractors had stood, and it seemed that Vaalbarium was quite potent, judging by the charred bodies that had been partially vaporized by whatever the blast had been.

Climbing back on his motorcycle, he revved up his engines and sped out of the construction site, not in the mood to deal with the MPD[20] at this hour. He was going to bring these flash drives to the capital, no matter the cost.

GIRL IN RED
_{Metropolitan District}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/9/2018 - 9:35 PM VST}

"What's Longyan like?" Maltt asked, curious. The three were still aboard the ferry, watching the city sights as they talked about the many matters in their lives. "I only went there, like, once when I was a kid."

"It's a big, dirty city... but it's home to me. It's warm there all year round, too bad there aren't any beaches to go to." Dana lamented. "Maybe one day I'll visit Varonne, or Minaczno."

"There's an International Academy[21] in Longyan, right?" Bianka herself had studied at the IA in Erebus, and knew to some extent that there were other academies across the globe.

"Yes! I'm still going there for my degree." Dana replied. "Where did you attend high school, and, uh, college?" She was younger than Bianka by a few years, and was still in school.

"The International Academy in Erebus! That's why I asked." Bianka smiled. "Those rumors weren't true though, were they?" She raised an eyebrow. A rumor had been circulating of a so-called blackmail ring existing in the International Academy at Longyan some time ago, and Bianka wondered if it had ever been true...

"Oh, the so-called Gentlemen's Agreement? The people responsible got caught last year." Dana said. "I'm surprised I didn't get caught up in any of that. Maybe it's because I didn't do anything that'd really merit me getting blackmailed." She shrugged.

"Gentlemen's Agreement?" Maltt seemed intrigued by the conversation at hand, even though he hadn't attended a school as prestigious as the IA.

"The Gentlemen's Agreement was this huge blackmail ring operating in the International Academy in Longyan... plenty of sons and daughters of important, powerful people got implicated in it, not only as individuals complicit in the whole scheme, but also as victims, too... it just goes to show how evil people can be."

"For sure." Bianka agreed. "I've had nightmares about that... y'know, blackmail. Something about being completely powerless just terrifies me."

With that, the conversation shifted to their nightmares, and what about them unsettled them the most...

"I have these dreams sometimes, about losing my soul, losing who I am as a person, and becoming someone I never wanted to be. A different person, and I have no control of it." Maltt said.

"It's weird, but sometimes... I get these weird dreams where I've just lost someone special to me, but it's a person I've never even heard of... and yet I get this weird feeling of deja vu." Dana seemed lost in thought as she looked on at the waters of the river Mez. "I just don't know how to explain it."

The conversation went on as the ferry took them along the riverwalk, with the occasional stops along landmarks on the scenic route. Hours passed in what felt like minutes...

NOVEAU WORLD - SIDE A
_{Mieszko Convention Center}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/9/2018 - 11:02 PM VST}

"This place is huge..." Bianka had been left starry-eyed by the sheer amount of things to see at the convention center as she and Maltt followed close behind Dana, who was guiding them to the place Xandle had reserved for the launch.

"Here we are." Dana gave a bright red pass to one of the Lux™[22] security guards at the entrance to the Xandle™ expo, leading them inside.

"Ah! Dana, I'd been wondering if you'd make it back in time!" The CEO of Xandle Computronics, Johan Mateusz, stood before the trio, his greying black hair glimmering under the dim lighting of the expo room. His eyes had a particular piercing gaze about them as he looked at the two friends his daughter had brought along. "I see you brought friends."

"I've known them for a really long time, da–" Dana was interrupted as Mr. Mateusz seemed to realize something.

"Ah, Bianka! Thank you for your service... I saw what happened at the consulate on the news, truly you're an unparalleled patriot. Valefontaine needs more people like you... and to think you were friends with my daughter! What a small world."

"I see my reputation precedes me. I'm most honored to meet you, sir." Bianka shook the man's hand, surprised he knew who she was.

"Please, call me Johan." His grip in their handshake was quite a firm one, as it was perhaps customary for businessmen to know how to exert power and dominance. His attention shifted to the young man standing between Bianka and Dana. "You are Dana's...?"

"Friend, sir. Name's Maltt Sczhoettner. I've known Dana for a few years now." He said, shaking the CEO's hand.

"Ah, I see." Johan nodded. "Well, make yourselves comfortable, and enjoy the show. Dana, if I could borrow your friend here for a moment?"

"Of course."

While Maltt and Dana went off to find empty seating at the expo room, Johan spoke to Bianka, clearly intrigued about her.

"I heard of the whole Queen of Spades ordeal that transpired back there. My condolences. If you require anything, be it security or anything, really, just ask." He passed Bianka a business card, which she promptly accepted.

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I'm fine, really..." Bianka assured him. "But how'd you find out about that?"

"Oh, I have plenty of friends in places." He said. "You've gained the attention of many important people, believe it or not... perhaps it has to do with your lineage... but that's not what has got my attention." He drew himself a few inches closer, imposing an intimidating aura. "Jet Magnotta, you know about her. Not all in Mieszko is what it seems to be, Bianka. Know that you enter a world of immeasurable danger." He stepped away, making for the backstage, but took a moment to look back at Bianka. "I wish you luck."

Bianka had been left confused by the CEO's cryptic words, but it seemed to her that he knew of the whole Jet ordeal, and perhaps even her involuntary involvement in it. His words, too, could be interpreted as a form of warning. Pondering what he could've meant made Bianka shudder. She set off, wondering where her friends were seated in the grand expanse of the dark expo room.

Soon enough, she'd found them, seated at one of many tables in the room. Joining them, they resumed casual conversation regarding their lives, the coming launch at the expo, and more.

"What was my dad talking to you about?" Dana asked, curious.

"Oh, nothing." Bianka shook her head, still mildly off-put by the odd encounter. "Just giving his condolences about what happened at the consulate."

NOVEAU WORLD - SIDE B
_Riverwalk
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/10/2018 -1:48 AM VST}

The CEO's speech, revealing the new vTAC line of Xandle™ smartphones and, to much fanfare, IPv7, had lasted almost an hour. The rest of Bianka's time at the convention center had been spent talking with her friends before she'd parted ways with Dana. She and Maltt were now passengers on the same river ferry, watching the riverside sights together.

"So, where will we be touring today?" Bianka playfully asked, half-absorbed in the lo-fi[23] music emanating from the ferry's sound system.

"I kinda... don't have enough clothes to really last me here." Maltt laughed. He'd barely been able to buy himself a few sets of clothes in the past week, and though Bianka's wardrobe was out of the question, even if it was somewhat boyish. "You know a good mall?"

"Oh, of course!" Bianka exclaimed. "I know a great place... the People's Mall, it's further downtown. We can go shopping there tommorro– today. Any particular clothing brands you prefer?"

"Macrosse™, I guess. Only brand I won't touch is Ultimate™, I find it too... pretentious and hypebeast[24] for my tastes." Maltt responded. "Maybe I'll buy some shoes too... but are you really okay with spending all this money on me? I know that without you I currently have no money, but I just feel indebted."

"Don't worry about it. I'm just helping a friend in need, right? Besides, I'm getting fairly decent pay from the military." She shrugged.

"If you don't mind it, then I guess it's all good." Maltt said.

Both of their gazes turned to the flurry of fireworks exploding in the sky in their many beautiful colors. The festival of Luperkalia[25] was around the corner, and the celebrations and festivities could already be seen to some extent.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Bianka looked on at the spectacle, dreamy-eyed at the display of lights above. "I feel like we could do this all night, y'know?"

"If only this moment could last forever... it's like all the problems in our lives are just melting away." Maltt was quite awestruck at the fireworks, as Luperkalia celebrations were vastly more grand than they were back in Kassowe.

Maltt and Bianka continued to talk as the ferry traveled its way upon the river. It wasn't long until it had reached the riverside cafe where they'd been prior. It was long closed by now, of course. As the ferry came to a halt, they disembarked, Bianka leading the way back to her Brabant™ 611[26] automobile, which was parked curbside not far from the riverwalk.

1:58 AM

"It's, like, almost 2 in the morning and I'm not even tired." Bianka approached her car, unlocking it with her keys.

"I feel you. How about we watch a movie or something?" Maltt proposed, entering the car and situating himself at the right[27] passenger seat. "We could check something out on Premiere™[28] and I could play it on the TV... what's on your mind?"

"Firewalk[29] is quite good, from what I've heard. I'm sure you've seen the trailers on TV."

"Ooooh... what's it about?" Bianka commenced their late-night drive back home, bound for their apartment. The drive would certainly last awhile, so she turned on the radio, listening in to some smooth city pop.[30]

"Some mystery drama, it's got some good action scenes too." Maltt replied. "I don't know much about it either, but I hear it's good."

"Sounds interesting to me!" Bianka smiled. The drive home was a quiet, calm one, made even more pleasant by the songs on the radio...

2:27 AM

Eventually, of course, they did reach their destination, State Apartment Bloc No. 418.

"You ready?" Maltt called out to Bianka. He'd made himself comfortable at the sofa, triangle pattern-covered blanket covering him up to the neck.

"Just a sec!" Bianka answered from the adjacent bedroom. Sure enough, she came out of the bedroom, wearing a set of pink Vapor84™[31] pajamas. "Just wanted to get into something comfortable." She smiled, hopping onto the sofa beside Maltt and warming up with the other half of the blanket.

Maltt fetched the remote from the coffee table, and let the movie begin... by the time the credits were rolling, the two were fast asleep, her head resting upon his shoulders. It had been a wild past week for the two of them, and what better way to begin your weekend by watching a movie with a friend?

Nonetheless, something was amiss in the greater scheme of things, something that subconsciously prodded at Bianka's sleeping mind. Had her actions regarding Jet caused unforeseen consequences that'd gained the attention of certain powerful individuals?

CONTEXT NOTES
1 - CDD™ - Camera Disruption Device. Formerly produced by Luka™, the CDD is quite effective at disrupting camera feeds. It effectively makes the wearer invisible to the camera, but it produces noticeable disruption in the affected feed.

2 - DUCE & BANANA™ - DUCE & BANANA™ was founded by Enrico Tucci's former business partner and rival, Van Duce. Producing clothing of nearly every variation, it is equal parts expensive and impressive.

3 - Xandle - Xandle Computronics was one of the more successful tech companies to arise from the boom of the 1980s. What had started as a enterprise of custom-making computers out of his garage brought Guntar Mateusz to be one of the most powerful and influential technocrats in the VDR. His passing in 2009 attracted national sympathy, and the company has since been run by his son, Johan Mateusz.

4 - ICM - International Computing Machines, typically referred to simply as ICM, has been the biggest tech company in the VDR for the better half of a century. While the company has been on a downward trend since its loss of the IPv7 bid to Copeland sysCorp, it may soon regain its upper hand with Copeland's impending demise at the hands of the present scandal.

5 - Cerulean Nine™: Siege™ - A popular multiplayer team-based first person shooter game. Involves two particular teams of ‘operators', each with their unique backstory and weapons.

6 - Varennikov™ - Due to its cheapness and relative ease to maintain, Varennikov-made assault rifles are relatively widespread in the third-world warzones of Ophir.

7 - 1926 Revolution - The 1926 Revolution, or the January Revolution, saw the demise of the Valefontene Empire and the rise of the VDR.

8 - events of 1973 - The Auburn Summer were a series of pro-democracy demonstrations across the VDR, which ultimately led to reforms in the same year that established the present democratic system existing in Valefontaine today.

9 - Mez River - A smaller tributary of the Narek River, it is quite small. Most of it has either been built over or transformed into the present Riverwalk that flows through the Metropolitan District.

10 - Riverwalk - The Riverwalk serves both as a tourist attraction and as a method of travel through the Metropolitan District.

11 - desert - Just east of Mieszko, behind the various mountain ranges, lay the Odan Desert, which is host to Sztauffenburg, home to the VDR's busiest casinos. The desert has its fair share of mysteries, between legends of UFOs to concealed military bases.

12 - uPhone™ - Popular line of smartphones in the VDR. The scandal with Copeland sysCorp has left its future uncertain, however.

13 - Harmony™ - Discord-like chat application. Very useful for international online groups due to its innovative and advanced automatic translation services.

14 - LSE - Longyan Stock Exchange.

15 - Runebloks - A sandbox MMO that is quite popular in the VDR. By sheer coincidence, Bianka met a good amount of her online friends here, although she now perceives the website to be a cesspool of a place...

16 - vTAC™ - The vTAC line of smartphones was Xandle's first attempt to tap into the market of phones. It boasts more features than the uPhone, and is quite a tough competitor to it.

17 - Narek - The Narek river runs through Mieszko, and is the largest body of water near Mieszko. It separates the Metropolitan District from Arkan District to the east.

18 - Spryt™ - Lemon-lime soft drink in the VDR. It is probably Bianka's preferred soft drink, in contrast to Neukola™, Mountain Mist™ or others.

19 - Vaalbarium - Discovered in 1985 in Antarctica, the element Vaalbarium is highly reactive in all circumstances. Being highly radioactive in conjunction with its short default half life, the element Vaalbarium decays into other actinides such as Uranium and Astatine during its half life. Although it is to date, the most unstable element discovered in the world, surpassing Francium by only five minutes less, its stable and natural isotope Va-250 may prove to have some applications. Due to its instability and deadly effects, there is yet to be a use for this element however, at least publicly that is the case.

20 - MPD - The Mieszko Police Department is among some of the most competent police departments in the VDR, boasting a force that is both huge and extremely disciplined.

21 - International Academy - A series of schools across the globe that allow citizens from any nation to attend. Quite expensive and posh, of course.

22 - Lux™ - A private security contractor. Xandle is among one of its bigger customers, of course.

23 - lo-fi - Lo-fi Hip Hop is quite popular in the VDR.

24 - hypebeast - Slang term for people who are obsessed with keeping up to the latest in streetwear.

25 - Luperkalia - Lasting from the 13th of February to the end of February (be it the 28th or 29th), Luperkalia is a festivity centered around romance and love.

26 - Brabant™ 611 - A sedan produced by VEB Brabant™. In Bianka's case, the vehicle was state-provided as provisions to go along with her service in LAtR-13.

27 - right - The passenger side of vehicles in Valefontaine is situated on the right side, while the driver's side is on the left. This is because cars in the VDR drive on the right.

28 - Premiere™ - Premiere™ is a video on-demand / online streaming service. Subscribers to the service can watch thousands of movies and TV shows on demand, anywhere and on any device.

29 - Firewalk - Firewalk is a 2018 psychological horror mystery drama directed by renown director Dassel Sly. It is a sequel to the television series Nightingale (1994-1995) and a prequel to an upcoming television show of the same name. The film revolves around the MvH investigation into the supernatural occurrences in the fictitious small town of Dvorczhol, with events that later connect to the TV series.

30 - city pop - The spread of the automobiles in 1980s Valefontaine gave rise to the musical subgenre of City Pop, which had existed abroad as well. The genre is a mellow mixture of smooth jazz, rock, and synthesizers. It has evolved into the 21st century, still holding an impressive, crisp sound that makes late night driving a soulful experience.

31 - Vapor84™ - Vaporwave-themed clothing brand from the VDR.

by **Kordland (Ancient)** » Mon Feb 26, 2018 7:03 pm

Hard Knock Life
Feher Family
Sasput, Kordland

It was one of the last normal days for the family in Sasput before they would embark for a country known for chaos and bloodshed. Imalakia was a far cry from one of the relaxed cities in northern Kordland, and the atmosphere was a bit strange all around for the Feher family as they made their preparations for the trip and said some hasty goodbyes to friends, neighbors, and others would miss them from the neighborhood.

Marc Feher had already informed the neighbors that they would be gone for an amount of time that they couldn’t be sure about, and told them that making contact might be hard while in Imalakia. Sigrid Feher, his wife and the one who handled the accounting for the business as well as their public relations and human resources sides, made arrangements for others to handle the administrative duties back home as she joined the Blue Battalion in their trip to Imalakia. Someone had to do the logistical work while they were deployed, and she wouldn’t trust someone else to take care of her family for her like that. Both of them had already called up friends who weren’t in the immediate neighborhood and told them the same thing, promising that the nation wasn’t as dangerous as everyone thought and that they would indeed return.

Zonja Feher, though, was the one that was hit the hardest whenever the family packed up their things and went somewhere. She had already been forced to drop out of school early because she couldn’t meet the attendance requirements if she traveled with her family. That was something she didn’t care much about, but what she did care about were the lost friendships. When they used to move around Kordland to do security work, she would lose her friends each time and they always seemed to drift apart from her and forget to text. This time, the plan was to come back to the same city they had left, but would they forget her while she was away?

The Feher family was hosting friends at their home, only days before they would depart on a small prop plane and set up their base of operations in Imalakia, and Zonja’s closest friends were among those who were invited. It was only a few people, though, because she wasn’t the most social type. Moving around and losing friends was one way to lose motivation to keep making more. Some of the other guests included employees from the non combat side of operations for North Seas Security, and some others from Sasput who had come to know the family when they finally settled down in one city.

“Why don’t we head upstairs, it’s a bit crowded down here, and the show starts soon,” Zonja said to the first friend to arrive. Yvonne Penner was one of the more popular girls at the school that Zonja had dropped out of, but Zonja had only gotten to know her when North Seas did security work for Yvonne’s parents and their company, which was based on fashion and lifestyle items. Yvonne always tried to push Zonja into becoming less of a tomboy and more of a traditional feminine girl, but somehow, they were still friends. Probably because they balanced each other’s personalities.

“Is Mel going to show up soon?” asked Yvonne as she followed Zonja to the second floor of the building, where the bedrooms were located. Zonja’s was at the end of the hall, and if anyone opened the door, they would be greeted by a cerulean blue shade that contrasted with the plain beige walls of the rest of the house. Zonja always was one to set herself apart in design. “Don’t want to pause the show to wait for her. I can’t live post about it if you do that.”

Of course, the show that they were referring to was the one that the friends liked to watch together, Lemon. It was one of the most popular Kordlandic animation shows currently airing and was a love story between two girls, that had surprisingly become popular despite the content being somewhat controversial for certain parts of Kordland. Zonja and her friends had watched every episode together so far, but this would be the last time that they were able to do so. Not that her friends knew that yet. “She said she’s on her way,” Zonja said, flopping down on the bed.

There was a brief silence before Zonja sat up to see what her friend was showing her. Yvonne had picked up something that was sitting by the wall, and Zonja saw that it was the marksman rifle she’d gotten not much earlier. “What’s this? You have a gun now?” she asked, almost sounding a little disappointed. This was one of the areas where they disagreed. Even if they were friends, Yvonne had an element of moral superiority to Zonja, because as she had said once, her family focused on making people look good, while Zonja’s killed people.

“My dad said I do good enough in PT that I can shift my focus and learn to shoot. He said it’s the next step in becoming a soldier,” Zonja said nonchalantly, shrugging. She didn’t really know what to say, because nothing she said was going to actually please Yvonne in this situation. “I wanted a battle rifle but it is what it is, this one is a bolt action with pretty good range and accuracy.”

“Why do you want to be a soldier? Do you want to go to third world countries and shoot at strangers, like the people that work for your family?” Yvonne asked, setting down the rifle against the wall and then sitting down next to Zonja. “I know you don’t have a ton of job options because of the high school thing, but you could take online classes. Or I could ask my family to find something for you, like an internship or whatever.”

“Soldiering is a good job,” Zonja replied, even if she didn’t completely believe it herself yet. “There’s a lot of freedom with it. I like the idea of a job that constantly has adrenaline rushes, too. Even if I’m still getting used to the idea of someone shooting at me. Besides, aren’t you a fan of third world countries with communist guerillas in them?”

“Just because I’m a liberal doesn’t mean I support communists-”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say. But the fuckers that my family has been fighting for years still get their funding from somewhere, and I’d bet good money that most of it comes from moderates like you who want to stick it to the evil nationalists without thinking of the costs to people like me,” Zonja replied, in a frustrated tone.

“I’m not a communist. Sorry for bringing it up.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just really frustrated with life right now.”

Yvonne raised an eyebrow at that. “Because…?”

“I’m moving again, really soon,” Zonja admitted, but around the same time that she let it slip, Mel entered the room and distracted both of them from the conversation. “Oh. Hey, Mel,” she said to the girl who had rabbit ears and mostly blacked out eyes. They weren’t fake, but indicative of her ancestry from Eratini. Melissa Prins lived out in the countryside in a private community full of others like herself and her family, but she worked part time in Sasput at a coffee shop and she became fast friends with Zonja when they met playing airsoft in the suburbs.

“Hey, Z. Looks like I made it here on time, but Larz isn’t going to be here, unfortunately. Our dad’s tractor broke down, he stayed behind to fix it. It’s why I ran late,” she started, before stopping when Zonja spoke.

“Well, damn him.”

“It’s not a big deal, he said he’ll bring snacks next time to make up for it-”

“I don’t think there’ll be a next time,” Zonja stated, prompting Yvonne to explain.

“She’s frustrated because she’s moving again and she won’t be able to see us, I think. I’m not sure, you walked in right as I was about to tell the details.”

Mel’s eyes widened, and she suddenly understood the snappy tone in her friend. She paused, and waited as Zonja started to explain without being asked. “Well, we’re technically staying in Sasput, but we’re going to be away for work and I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. This conflict has been going on for awhile, so I doubt it’s just going to be a month or two. My family is sending a battalion to Imalakia to help one of the sides there, in exchange for a lot of money, and I’m tagging along this time. I want to see what it’s like in the field if this is going to be my job in the future, but… I’m afraid of losing you all again.”

“That’s why we have phones,” said Mel. “How do you think I keep in touch with my friends that live across the country in other communes? I have your number, you don’t need to be afraid of losing me.”

“Same here. What, did you think we’d just forget about you if you head to Imalakia?”

“Some of my friends did just that,” said Zonja. “And that was when I wasn’t even leaving for a foreign country, just for different parts of Kordland. They act like they’re going to stay close but suddenly everyone is busy. And they can’t talk to you, but they still have plenty of time to hang out with their other friends that they still see in person…”

“If I do that to you, you can feel free to punch me in the face next time you see me in person,” Mel suggested, getting a chuckle from Zonja. “Hell, I’m interested in hearing what Imalakia is like. I’ve seen it on the news, but getting an inside perspective seems so much more interesting. I think I’m going to be more upset if you don’t call than vice versa. Or text, no difference really.”

Zonja gave a sigh, obviously not completely convinced. “I guess I wish I could settle somewhere, but I guess that’s a dumb expectation with the kind of work my family does. Sometimes you just want to have the same group of friends around you, you know? Maybe I’ll finally make friends with some soldiers.”

“Why not try to stay behind, then?”

“Maybe I could convince my parents to let me stay behind somehow, but I really do want to get some experience. I want to have my cake and eat it too, I think.”

“Maybe you can. Like I said, we can still stay in touch,” said Yvonne. “Let’s just relax tonight and try not to think about it, and we can talk again later. If you have to leave, we might as well have fun hanging out one more time before that happens.”

by **Turmenista** » Thu Mar 01, 2018 5:23 am

BANZAI'S HOUSE

__________________________________
_{Kawanahi National Park[1]}
_{Kawanahi Savanna}
_{Republic of Turmenista}
_{2/7/2018 - 7:01 AM TST}

"I take it that I'm forgoing all attempts at peaceful contact... that's okay."

Jonah Daveys, also known as Banzai[2], lay down prone on the ground, in a pose not too different than that of a sniper. He held his breath, rubbing his eyes for a moment and yawning as he raised his camera once more, stabilized with a bipod again not too different than that of a sniper's. The lens focused in on what appeared to be a herd of elephants nearby, but he saw something different coming down from the skies where the elephants were. Effectively, he was invisible in the tall grass, but the helicopter coming down and scaring away the elephants obviously wasn't.

Thus far, he was about two inches away from uncovering what this helicopter actually was, and why it was landing down here. After taking a few snapshots of the wildlife, he panned his camera over to the side, focusing in on the helicopter as it landed. A white man in khaki shorts and a neutral-colored shirt stepped off wearing a familiar patrol cap, along with a man with a bag over his head. The bag came off, Jonah snapped a photo, and stood up from his spot, nearly a kilometer away from the helicopter, turning tail and sprinting over to his truck. Once the clap of a gunshot came through the air, the realization of what he had taken a picture of dawned upon him.

He had a camera and a photo to work with. Now came the next step of his master plan - trying to tell people that the photo wasn't a hoax.

CONTEXT NOTES

- The Kawanahi Savanna is a very large savanna in Southern Ophir extending for 900,000 square kilometres (350,000 sq mi). It covers much of Turmenista and regions of Imalakia, though most of it is located in Turmenista. It is home to one of the largest national parks in the world, the Kawanahi National Park, which is a major tourist attraction for its superfluous amounts of wildlife and beautiful landscape.
- A pseudonym given to Jonah Daveys, a professional photographer. Banzai is depicted as an animated hyena character one would see in a Turmenistanian cartoon show, who often posts wonderful pictures of the South Ophiric landscape.

by **Empire of Donner land** » Fri Mar 02, 2018 6:02 pm

Soraught Airforce Base

3/2/2018

"Everything's a lie. Everything you hear, everything you see. So much to spew out. They just keep coming, one after another."

It's cold, not a transitory cold where one rushes from their warmed car to inside of an airconditioned store, the feeling of warmth only a quick jog away. It's a permanent cold, where wherever they go, it's there and warmth becomes a foreign concept and every atom in their body feels like it's at a standstill, afraid to move. Where almost no amount of training or experience can prepare one's person for the absolute lack of any sort of feeling besides the chill of the air.

It's that feeling in the base, not in a literal way, its the feeling knowing something bad is happening, and that something will be permanent with no way to rush through it. but he can take it, he's taken it before, he's taken a lot of things.

He enters the room along with some others, its bare with white cinderblock walls and tiled floors, in the middle is a metal table, on it a map of a nation many of them hadn't heard of, or even cared about, its shape reminded him of a soldier in some kind of helmet, being stabbed in the head by some sort of strange blade, the bay in the northwest taking the form of his eye. Around it was multiple Sergeants, a few Corporals, and the platoon Lieutenant. The Lieutenant looked up. "Welcome Clarehg, others, look at this map and tell me where it is."

"I've no clue, Lieutenant." a Corporal spoke up from the back. A couple of other's shook their heads and looked at each other expecting someone to speak up, murmurs from the back chuckled.

"I don't expect any of you to know. Clarehg, how about you?" The Lieutenant said, pointing at him. His voice expecting an answer, strict, quickly.

Clarehg cleared his throat, studied the map, ignored the weapon, the strange panhandle of a border, sticking out of its head. "This would be Imalakia sir... in Ophir. What're we doing there?" he asked, fearing that what he thought would come true. He knew the nation on the map, he knew it because he'd studied it for a long time since it's 2nd Civil War had begun there in 2006. He wanted to be a doctor and help them, to fix and to prevent harm, he'd wanted to be a doctor for a while before then as well.

"Exactly right, 1st Sergeant. Welcome to Imalakia. Now, based on the rumors I've heard from you all... there's no doubt about it, they're true. You're being deployed outside Donner Land." He stopped for a moment, collecting the men's and women's stares, some in dismay, some in excitement, others with little care, with Clarehg being of the last group, he wore a blank face. "We're being sent to assist our Ygarthan allies and their allies in Olmar Bay against the various factions in Imalakia, specifically the communist factions located here and here." He pointed to two different red colors on the map. At that point, Clarehg could only think what's the difference? But that was the exact narrowminded point of view they wanted from him, he wouldn't give the Lieutenant the pleasure.

"The Terrain is a jungle, hot and humid," The Lieutenant explained "You'll be begging for air conditioning but it won't be there, the best you'll be getting is leaf fans and your own sweat during the day and during the night because any electricity that was in that place was either bombed or very sparse. I'll explain the rest at Imalakia and we'll get down to business, for now, pack up, we leave in thirty minutes."

Clarehg sighed as everyone else began to disperse, "Lieutenant Burezhg, this country is thousand's of miles away and in such a state of deflagration and decay that by the time we get there the whole place could be just be gone. And at any rate, the job of handling that is up to the people that fucked up with it in the first place, not us. Who are we to be cleaning up other people's messes, Janitors?" Clarehg complained, walking around the table to the Lieutenant. As he spoke the rest of the platoon slowed to a stop and watched, as 1st Sergeant he had a certain amount of authority, even rivaling the Lieutenant. Clarehg had the nagging feeling that there was something else being left out of this, it was Burezhg's attitude, his way of talking and tone of voice.

Burezhg was visibly angered, "you're dismissed, all of you. I don't want another peep from you, Sergeant. Your duty is not to question me," And so everyone walked out, leaving him alone with the Lieutenant. "Later. Sergeant." he reaffirmed. And Clarehg left.

As Clarehg walked down the hall to the airstrip where everyone's gear was, he was approached to from the side by one of his Corporals, an 18 year old by the name of Inster. "You think he's telling us the whole story with this?" Inster asked.

"We've got no option but to be dogs and follow his orders blindly, for all we know he's just as blind as us, but with how he introduced the operation, so casually, simply. Well, I don't feel good about it," Clarehg curtly replied.

"Makes you think about how it is that we went from minding our own business to this, ever since Broken Dagger in Reutoa. I thought our whole pledge when we joined the Military was about defending the council, our people, our nation. Not someone else's people in some other nation." Inster argued, he wasn't wrong.

"Maybe we are and we haven't figured it out yet," Clarehg said.

by **Kordland (Ancient)** » Fri Mar 02, 2018 9:24 pm

Marc Feher
Kordlandic Ophir
Hard Knock Life

“Wave of communists, incoming!” shouted the North Seas Security soldier that was looking at the front through binoculars, finding out that the sound of engines approaching from the horizon did indeed belong to the enemy insurgent force that they were attempting to keep in New Adamus. Or rather, they were trying to prevent them from crossing into the Kordlandic territory in Ophir and contain the guerilla war to a place where it wouldn’t be a problem for the country that was contracting them to do this work.

“They’re flying the red flag, and I can identify… Uh, four pickups on the front line, two MRAPs that I think they converted from the Adaman Army’s captured equipment,” the soldier continued. “Each pickup has about a fireteam worth of soldiers riding in the back, I’m identifying machine gunners too. One in every pickup, I think, I can’t tell the comp of the units in the MRAPs. Oh, and I’m seeing three or four motorcycles following the other units as the last line in this convoy. We going to engage these guys, or fall back?”

Marc Feher raised his own pair of binoculars and stared at the dust clouds forming behind the incoming enemy that had crossed the border apparently without any resistance. Marc cursed the border security in Kordlandic Ophir under his breath and waited before making a decision, counting out the enemies himself and then lowering the binoculars and taking up his radio. “We’re going to stay and fight, it’s going to cost us too much in the long run to drop back and lose this village,” he said, before contacting the rest of the units. “Alpha Company, get up here, if you aren’t already. Head to the ridge by the southeastern side of the village and have your guns ready for a firefight. Bravo Company, set up a perimeter facing east and be prepared to watch our flank. Support, stay behind us and assist when you can. We’re getting rushed by the CPNA again and they’re all motorized this time, so hurry the fuck up and get down here.”

He returned the radio to its pocket on his vest, and looked through the scope of his Type 76 rifle as he lined up a shot at the incoming enemies. As long as they attacked from this range and picked them off before they came too close to the ridge, they would have an advantage because of their height. But if they reached the ridge, they wouldn’t be able to shoot from behind the sandbag fortifications that were set up around the village, that Marc and the others were standing behind right now. As soon as the other members of Alpha Company started arriving after being stirred from their down time, Marc began marshalling them around and giving orders. “I need every MG you guys have facing the enemy and laying down suppression, and I need an AT team to target those MRAPs. Marksmen, see if you can pick off the guys in the back of the trucks, or the bikers… Anything helps.”

“My machine gun was getting thirsty,” said one of the gunners, setting up on the sandbags with a grin and opening fire as the sound of the belt fed gun drowned out everything else around them. The rapid fire sound of the gun was soon overtaken by that of an RPG firing, and the distinct lingering gunpowder smell that seemed to come from the backblast of smoke. The projectile hit its mark, and one of the armored trucks ran right into its path and exploded, quickly going from a part of the battle to a blackened husk. At the same time, the pickups were being forced to veer off of their paths by the machine gun fire, and Marc watched as one of the gunmen on the back of the pickups twirled and fell to the dirt after eating a bullet to the head.

“RPG! Fucking incoming!” someone screamed, and Feher dived backwards and went to a prone position on the ground as the communists fired back with an RPG of their own, as one of their fighters balanced one and aimed at the makeshift fort while standing on the flatbed of a moving pickup. The area exploded, and dirt and sand rained down on Marc as he rolled over again and scrambled to his feet to survey the damages. A few dead. One machine gunner taken out. The rate of fire had suddenly dropped.

“Fucking damn it,” he muttered under his breath. He switched his own rifle to automatic and dove behind the cover of what remained of the sandbags and wood, firing off as many shots as he could to suppress the enemy before they closed the distance and took away the range advantage that the North Seas soldiers had right now. “Someone get a radio over here! I need to call the KAF forces and tell them to get the hell over here before we lose the village!”

Someone nodded and ran off to find the radio operator, and Marc reloaded and then returned to a crouching position behind the barricade. Another burst of sand rose in the air in front of him after an explosion, but this one wasn’t as powerful, and he guessed that the shot had missed its mark. Marc ducked his head, as the radio operator slid into a prone position in front of him and allowed him to pick up the phone to put a transmission through to the Kordlandic Armed Forces. All the while, the bullets continued whizzing around them and the communists had the higher rate of fire after the loss of the first machine gun, and some of the other North Seas assets.

Someone that was standing next to them dropped dead, after being riddled with three shots from a machine gun. Other bullets hit the sandbags and were absorbed, and Marc could feel how close he was to being in the line of fire. “This is Marc Feher, the commanding officer of the North Seas Security battalion on the Adaman border… Yes. We’re in the village of Sheiga. Yeah, near the border, and we’re getting rushed by at least four squad sized units of communists. They crossed the border sometime earlier, and now they’re trying to take this village.”

Feher paused, listening to the reply of the person on the other end of the call, before continuing. “We’re pinned around the perimeter and we’re defending a ridge, but we won’t have a terrain advantage when they get much closer. If you want to keep the village under Kordlandic control and not CPNA control, you’re going to need to help us out here. Air support, artillery, direct intervention, whatever, we won’t be able to hold the village under an assault like this. We’re going to have to fall back into the village center and let them have the perimeter in a few minutes.”

Marc received an insurance that Kordlandic forces would be dispatched from the nearest town to relieve the North Seas force, and hung up the phone before moving in a low crouch to get away from the barricade that was now a pretty dangerous area to hang out behind. “Everyone back into the village center! Tell the civvies to either move and get indoors, or risk getting shot,” he said, still staying low because of the bullets that were flying high and over the ridge. That was when the old jet fighter approached from the distance and roared overhead, strafing the North Seas forces and narrowly catching Marc.

Since when had the Communist Party of New Adamus had jet fighters? Although, this one looked like it had been constructed in the 50s or 60s, and it was a miracle it was still able to fly well enough to carry out a strafing attack. The terms of the battle had changed. It was now less about winning and more about making it back to safety and to Sigrid and Zonja. That task was expected to be easy, but now it seemed easier said than done.

***

“Where does this tie into me?” asked Zonja, after hearing the story about one of the earlier times North Seas Security had been deployed to the dark continent. “Said something about someone else that was in Ophir with you being the reason why you wanted to train me to be ready for places like this. I miss something with the story?”

“No, just giving the background for it all,” said Marc, sitting next to her on the flight to Imalakia, which was from Soest, Kordlandic Ophir. While they were flying to the other country, he had decided that it would be a good time to explain some more of the entire context around why he was training her to be a soldier of all things, at a young age. And why he was bringing her to Imalakia now, despite the wishes of her friends back home. “After being pinned down in the battle of Sheiga, we were finally saved when Kordlandic forces rolled in and smashed the enemy with the big guns. Particularly, the armor. The battle of Sheiga was the first time that I met one of the finest soldiers that I’ve worked with, and one that I spent a lot of time talking about the company with. I think I might have been a father figure to her, and she became my inside informant on the KAF. After all, it’s important to know what the military is thinking, while working for them. Her name was Sofie Sommer.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard that name before. I assume this is someone I haven’t met?” asked Zonja, staring out the window absentmindedly and watching the clouds roll by. They were far up enough that the land was hardly visible, and the empty desert had been replaced by the beautiful sight of the clouds and the skies.

“You haven’t. You see, Sofie was a tanker who quickly worked her way up to become the commander of her tank and the leader of a unit within her battalion. Had just the right combination of intuition and loyalty that you want in a good soldier, too. She was one of the ones who knew when to stick to the orders to the letter, and when to improvise to keep her crew and the others within her unit alive. I tried to get her to jump ship, to finish out her time with the Army and help us start up an armored unit, but she had loyalty to her nation, too. Still, Sofie Sommer is one of the Kordlandic Army officers that I exchanged ideas with,” Marc explained. “She may have had more natural talent than you as a soldier, but you know the difference between you and her? Sofie didn’t prepare beyond the minimum required. Her natural intellect was enough to get her through most things.”

Marc paused, looking for his words. “She didn’t train more than she had too, didn’t read anything that wasn’t necessary. Didn’t spend time at the range. And despite all that natural talent as a soldier and a leader, Sofie broke under pressure and had a pretty miserable death compared to the career that she’d had up until then, which was distinguished for an officer her age.We were working together in a small city just over the Kordlandic Ophir border with New Adamus, as part of a KAF operation to clear the place out after the CPNA took over. We provided a lot of the infantry force, the KAF helped out with armor. We were clearing the downtown area, or rather, patrolling it and making sure there were no more traces of resistance, when Sofie’s tank got held up by a crowd and someone on a balcony fired an RPG that blew one of the treads off. My team was wrapped up in our own engagement and we were on a narrow street with civilian traffic. I couldn’t reach the tank before the insurgents did, and they moved fast and struck hard. They disabled the MG pretty quick and attacked from behind because the turret couldn’t swing around on a crowded street like this. My men reached the insurgents after fighting our way out of our own meat grinder, but by then? They were retreating into the crowd, and they had the tank crew as prisoners after they were forced to turn out and fight for their lives.”

Zonja was silent, and she let Marc continue the story. “We knew we needed to get them back because this wouldn’t end well for them, but it’s hard to move around in a crowded city. We already had to stick to specific roads to get downtown with our armor, and there’s a reason why that’s not usually done. But that goes back to Sofie not having as much knowledge as others. The insurgents disappeared to a spot where there was a large civilian crowd, and we lost sight of them. We couldn’t chase them in our cars, either. So we end up retreating back to our base of operations, the KAF says they’ll take over and get back the prisoners. They want the big shots from special forces handling this, not a PMC. They send KSOG into the city and they’re going to conduct a raid on the suspected rebel hideout, but the hideout turns out to be a normal civilian night club and it gets on the news that KSOG raided a random building and had everyone on the ground. The communists get pissed at the attempted raid and on the next morning, we find Sommer and her crew hanging upside down from a bridge. They’d supposedly already been dead for hours before they were put there.”

“You know, I’ve always blamed myself on what happened in New Adamus. Always blamed myself for the death of a bright young officer that could have went places career wise and just in general. I put the blame on myself because I was there when it happened, but also because I didn’t push Sofie to prepare herself. She would be alive if she had paid attention to certain writings about urban combat… Past experiences, of people with more combat hours than her. And I blamed myself for letting her slack off in areas like that, despite talking to her regularly and sharing ideas,” said Marc. “I knew it was dangerous. But that day showed me what a lack of preparation can do to someone. I vowed that I wouldn’t lose anyone else that way, even though Sofie was never part of North Seas. But it still taught me a lesson and made me determined to not lose any of my own men in the same way, because I didn’t do everything I could to prepare them. And the same applies to you. If you’re going to be a soldier… And I think the chances are greater that you will become one than not, I want to make sure that there’s no scenario that will surprise you and leave you shell shocked. That you’ll always know what to do to keep yourself alive at any time. I can’t make you naturally more durable or smarter or improve your reaction times. But I can make sure that when push comes to shove, you know more than the rest of the field. This trip to Imalakia is a learning experience.”

“You can read a book, you can watch a video, but there's some things better taught on site. And there's some things about war that you just can't get used to until you see and experience it for yourself. I've seen villages lose an entire generation to artillery strikes from a mile out. I've seen mass graves and the blood of innocents spilled, and sometimes, there's just about nothing I can do about it. Seen the worst of humanity, like the communist forces that captured and murdered Sofie Summer and her crewmates. Some of these people, they've only known war for most of their lives. I believe that the only way to beat them reliably is to immerse yourself in their world, which gives you an understanding that a field manual or a training exercise at home just can't. You won't like everything you see. You might even find yourself disgusted by the things that happen in a country plagued by civil war. But coming here and seeing it firsthand for yourself is going to go a long way in being prepared when you end up in a situation like this for real. As a soldier.”

“If war is so dangerous and it takes so much training, hopefully I don’t die in the process,” said Zonja, looking back from the window and reaching for the book she’d brought on the flight. It was a military field manual about jungle warfare, and she intended to read it before they did anything in Imalakia. “I don’t know if I’m ready for it. For things that are actually live fire, and not like the airsoft drills…”

“I didn’t know that either when I was first heading out as a soldier, but you have more experience than I did at that age. I went into this not knowing anything that wasn’t included in training, but you’ve studied and lived around this company for enough years to have a basic idea of things. Even if you aren’t an expert shooter yet. But don’t worry about that. We’re going to start off slower in Imalakia than we did in past deployments… The situation isn’t supposed to escalate like some of the communist insurgencies of the past. We’re here partly to make sure that it never does.”

***

Zonja Feher
Wuha, Imalakia

The plane landed without anything out of the ordinary happening, and the group of mercenaries entered the country for the first time to set up their HQ section before the arrival of the main force, which would have to be flown in on bigger planes. For now, however, they were keeping somewhat of a lower profile and they had decided against the strategy of setting up with the entire unit at one time. “In a country like this, carry your weapon openly when possible,” Marc said to both Zonja and the other mercenaries around him. “Foreigners may be targets for robberies and other crimes if the locals misjudge their strength. Don’t cause us any unnecessary trouble with them by letting that happen.”

The warmth from the jungle environment was making Zonja sweat, and she rolled her sleeves up after getting into the car that was taking them to the housing that the Red Dragons were providing. “I’m cutting these sleeves off when we get to the house,” she stated. “I know why they do it in old pictures, now. Fucking hell… Pardon the language, but I feel like I’m going to have a heat stroke.”

“The effects of living in the arctic for your entire life,” Marc stated, with a nod. “It’s fairly normal for a Kordlander who has only lived in Kordland to feel like this, even though this isn’t even the hottest time of the year. Even temperate countries can make us feel uncomfortable, but when we come to an area like this… Well, like you said, heat strokes are an underrated threat to look out for.”

She nodded without another word and then reached into one of her vest pockets for her phone, fishing it out and opening the KChat app to message her friends back home. Maybe telling them that she had arrived safely would distract her from the growing stream of sweat that was running down her neck, between her shoulder blades, and onto the middle of her back. They were jealous that she was getting to travel all the way to Ophir, but they wouldn’t be when they heard how it felt down here.

ReZolution
yooooooooo
where are you guys
Yvonne
what
Magic Mel
sup bich
ReZolution
it’s a billion fucking degrees here
i have to change because i’m drenched in sweat already ffs
Magic Mel
how drenched
ReZolution
see for yourself
<1 attachment>
Magic Mel
holy shit lmao
Yvonne
oof
Magic Mel
did you see lions and elephants yet
ReZolution
we’re in a city, not the bush, thank the gods for that
Magic Mel
hmmm
bring me back one of those $20 ophric guns, k?
Yvonne
are you kidding me
ReZolution
^
this
Magic Mel
not kidding
ReZolution
i’ll see if i’m allowed to bring one back, i’m not getting labeled as an illegal arms smuggler because of you
Magic Mel
o7
thanks bich
Yvonne
You’re enabling her, Z
ReZolution
nah it’s cool, i have cash to spend
you’ll get it as long as i don’t come back in a body bag
Yvonne
That was morbid
Magic Mel
wtf
ReZolution
gotta go, we’re at the house now, i’ll talk tonight

They arrived at the house that the Red Dragons were providing, and the North Seas group climbed out and started to carry their cargo inside while a few soldiers stood guard and made sure that nobody had any ideas about robbing the foreigners who, if it wasn’t for the guns, might be confused for tourists. Marc and Sigrid went to call their employer and tell them that they had just arrived in Wuha, Imalakia. Zonja went upstairs and started unpacking her items, and when she was finished, she walked up to the window and pulled the curtains aside, looking out at the cityscape around them. It was the first time she had been in a foreign city outside of the Kordlandic sphere of influence, and she smiled to herself silently.

At the first free moment that she had, she was going to take to the streets to explore it herself.

by **Western Pacific Territories** » Fri Mar 02, 2018 10:59 pm

West Analamanga, Imalakia
Govt. Controlled Territory

"Analamanga, this is what we're getting paid to keep a hold of. Doesn't it look like a nice place? Hasn't been for decades." Eric said, looking out the window of a rented aircraft his mercenaries had taken for the next week or two. "I figure you guys may need a refresher of what the situation on the ground looks like. Basically, Kugande is fucked. This city is already besieged on two sides, hell you can see the enemy's territory around here from the window out towards the horizon. His army is in a pitiful state, and the civilians are from what I understand basically only living off of what can get through the highway out of here the government still controls. If that highway falls, so does Kugande. Would not be good for us." Nods all around from the select others Eric brought with him here. "When we land at the airport, we'll meet with Kugande. I'll discuss matters with him, he can tell me what he needs and to the best of our ability we'll provide." Silence followed afterwards until the plane came in to land in Analamanga.

About ten minutes later, they had not been shot down and killed by republicanists and were parked on the airfield. Looking out, a couple of jeeps were driving up to the plane as Eric exited. The jeeps stopped, and Kugande made himself shown. In a dark green uniform, he stared down Eric and his entourage of five other men, mostly armed with pistols but one with a Reculer V2MH. Kugande did have something to say, though. "So... this is what I am offered? Six men?" Eric interrupted. "More like two hundred. They will be here in a matter of days." Kugande pondered the thought. "My men do not wish to fight, even if they did they do not know how." Again Eric interceded. "We will teach them how to fight, and when they know how to fight maybe they will want to fight." A few seconds passed. "Yes... yes. Come with me to the National Palace. We have matters to discuss there."

Ceeldhawa, Imalakia
PRM Controlled Territory

A couple of days later, about fifty of Eric's mercenaries had arrived in country. A force of decent ex-military men of this size alone could do massive damage against the sort of fighters their enemies were, but STA Consultations had as well also began training some of Kugandes men. In the conversations Kugande had with Eric, the subject of Kugande wanting a personal guard to protect him in case the city fell or a coup was launched came up. Though Eric felt that wasn't a primary concern, Kugande insisted. Eric however did at least get something out of it. General Kwesi Chikumbusa had requested assistance from STA and the few troops it had already started training. He wanted to capture Ceeldhawa to disable a couple of old howitzers that were shelling the city outskirts as well as expand the zone of control around the city. Kugande, desperately wanting to achieve a victory agreed quickly.

And now, Thomas Sérusclat was looking through a pair of binoculars at this town. The mercenaries had been able to take a mortar with them, and set it up with a fireteam for protection on a ridgeline a couple hundred meters away from the town. "That house down there, with the flag on it. Just saw a militia guy with a MG walk in there." One of the two guys manning the mortar piece said "Adjusting. How long until the convoy shows up?" Thomas replied "Well, I suppose we should ask them." He picked up his radio.

"Hey guys, our mortar is set up and ready to fire. ETA until you guys show up?" Benoît picked up his radio. "Couple of minutes. You know whereabouts of the main attack force?" A crackle of the radio came about half a minute later. "Uh, they are currently setting up into position and will be ready to attack about the same time you'll be showing up." Benoît grinned, as the driver of his jeep pressed on the gas a bit more, eliciting a roar from the engine. He himself looked down at his gun and cocked it.

Like clockwork, three minutes later about four jeeps drove up to a collection of two huts right outside the village and laid fire outside the few occupants outside the first houses visible coming into the village. Quickly stopping, the jeeps unloaded as their occupants advanced towards the two huts to secure them. Right after, the first mortar shell flew in and blew the roof off of a two-story building, which started spewing smoke. The huts were quickly secured, as the main force arrived guns blazing on foot from a patch of dense jungle to the east of the village. PRM soldiers in a panic ran into houses only to be shot. After the initial surprise had past, suppressing fire started to be given out at random while mortars hammered buildings fire still came from.

One of the government soldiers pulled out a loudspeaker and started ordering enemy troopers to surrender, it didn't seem to have a noticeable impact but after a few minutes most of the buildings in this small village were rubble and most the garrison dead. Those still alive decided the gig was up, and started screaming cries of surrender from their cover. Walking out without their weapons, they were tied up by the victorious soldiers and left to wait while they secured the village and looked for their objective: the artillery pieces. With great frustration, Benoît had to inform an random officer that the artillery pieces had seemingly been moved out or hidden mere hours ago. Though the main aim hadn't been achieved, Kugande had at least scored a victory, and gained a little bit of territory today to the north of Analamanga. The mercenaries pulled out, prisoners with them.

by **Free Asian Ports** » Thu Mar 08, 2018 10:22 pm

One: A Little Spider Wove a Web

Kaiyohime Maru
568 km Northwest of Olmar Bay, Imalakia
International Waters
8 February 2018

A salty sea breeze blew across the flight deck of Kaiyohime Maru, rustling the flags on the bridge tower and unfurling the Portean flag tied to the mast. The prow of the ship bobbed up and down as the amphibious assault ship ploughed through the waves, forcing anybody on deck to be careful with their step or to hang onto a railing. Kimiko breathed this sea air in while her compatriot, Master Sergeant Takeda, blew chunks over the side.

“Oh, surely you’ve been on a warship before, Master Sergeant?” queried Kimiko, leaning on the railing as casually as only a Marine could on a ship in waves.

“Come now, commander, you know I was an Army paratrooper, not a damn squid” complained Takeda before puking again.

Kimiko rolled her eyes. “You’re in a naval infantry unit, Master Sergeant, I expect you to get sea legs at some point”.

MSgt. Takeda nodded and wobbled her way towards the nearest hatch. Kimiko shook her head. Barely a month into her new commission as commander of Sakura Brigade’s Naval Infantry Company^[1] and Kimiko was already wrangling her troops into fighting shape for their first combat deployment as a unit. What barely a year ago was overenthusiastic ex-soldiers loosely associated with a brand-new mercenary company ostensibly labelled a “feminist militia” by similarly overenthusiastic media outlets was now Kimiko’s personal elite infantry unit. On paper.

It irritated Kimiko to no end to be handed her own resignation letter and get promoted to a cushy position in command of mercenaries. Had it been up to her, she would’ve been a grunt lieutenant in her beloved Marine Corps until she dropped dead of old age. But the politicians and superior officers had other plans. Sure, it was still a marine force. Sure, her troops were all experienced soldiers. But it wasn’t quite the same. They weren’t fighting for strategic objectives, they were fighting for money. It wasn’t a humble cog in the machine, it was one of her family’s personal legions.

Kimiko took another breath. But she’d been assigned here, nonetheless. She definitely enjoyed the benefits, which was not under dispute. Great pay, more leave time than actual duty, and long stays at home made being a mercenary commander the easiest job in the business of war. And it all just rubbed Kimiko the wrong way. How could she just be dropped into such a low-effort job? How was she going to earn respect if she kept being treated like a princess? At least she was going to get some action this time around…

An announcement over the alert system advised people to clear the flight deck. An aircraft was coming in to land. This was the flight she was expecting. A Sasekawa S191^[2] appeared in the distance towards the aft of the ship, peeking in through the clouds above. Kimiko turned around and leaned back on the railing, watching the aircraft come in on a landing approach. Jet nozzles in the base of the high-set wing on the plane swiveled to face downwards and bring it into a hover. Once stable and aligned with the landing circle on the flight deck, the S191 slowly set itself down. While its engines spun down, Kimiko began walking towards the plane to meet her new client.

10 minutes later

The FIA man sat down at an empty table in Kaiyohime Maru’s mess. Nonchalantly, he cracked open a soda and took a sip. “Whew” he said, putting it down “I love eating on merc warships. Food here is damn fresh. None of that processed slop they serve on Navy vessels. Only the finest for our overpaid prima donnas”

Kimiko sat down opposite to him. She wasn’t sure what his name was, he insisted he be called “Eagle”. Spooks were a creepy lot, and Kimiko knew that for certain. Her beloved twin sister was testimony to that. But they paid her bills and kept the unit employed, so Kimiko wasn’t about to beat around the bush with nonsense about names.

“I’m glad you like the hospitality” grunted Kimiko, mildly annoyed at Eagle’s lack of respect.

“Oh, the hospitality is just a cute touch. I’m far more concerned with services rendered”

“I can assure you, we’re fully capable of carrying out this security mission. You’ve cleared everything with Ygartha, right?”

“Yeah, about that…”

Kimiko facepalmed rather harder than she meant to. “Please tell me you assured Olmar Bay that we’re allies”.

“Contrary, we’re cooperating with them fully” reassured Eagle, sipping his soda again. “Actually I wanted to tell you about a change in contract”.

This got Kimiko’s attention. She raised her head to get a solid look at the spook. “What kind of change?” she asked, incredulously.

Eagle chuckled a little bit. “We’re hoping you could do something more aggressive. It’s quite plain the situation in Imalakia doesn’t involve us and it’s equally clear that the shithole is gonna turn into a shittier hole. What we want your unit to do now is drive through the country looking for trouble. We’ve even picked out a fancy target for you to shoot up. Your objective is to find the source- actually any source of instability in the country and follow it to the end before uprooting the damn thing and going home. Simple as that. We think it’s either drugs or Syndicalists, and frankly either way your killing talents will be very useful”.

Kimiko was stunned for a moment while Eagle finished his can. “You mean we’re actually going to do something?” she asked, hoping for confirmation that she’s really going to be tested.

“For sure” affirmed Eagle, already rummaging through his briefcase. He pulled out a manila envelope. “Here’s the revised contract and some information about your initial objectives” he said, handing Kimiko the envelope. Kimiko merely had to look at the change in pay for her eyeballs to bulge. With pay like that she could buy herself… well anything she wanted. And for something she’s been itching to do for months?

“So, do we have a-“

“Deal” cut off Kimiko, without missing a beat. Pleased with himself, Eagle leaned back and outstretched his hand. Kimiko shook it and left to find her junior officers. At the doorway, she turned back to the FIA spook. “Your room is down the hall and to the left. I hope you have a pleasant stay at the hotel Kaiyohime Maru”.

Gate 18, Erebus International Airport
Erebus, Vaal
Valefontene Democratic Republic
8 February 2018, 10:37 AM VST

The Lo-188 had finished taxiing to the gate and ground crew were already in motion preparing the pane to disembark. Loud engines were a stable of busy airports, and since the introduction of the Lo-188 decades ago supersonic airliners have only added to the din. This was all somewhat muffled by the fuselage of the passenger jet, but it still perforated the interior while passengers were collecting their carry-ons for disembarking. The Miderkont aircraft had been chartered by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to transport a large group of Portean diplomats arriving in the VDR as part of an effort to expand the diplomatic mission between the FAP and Valefontene^[3]. Among these personnel were secretaries, IT specialists, analysts, and security personnel. With them they were bringing a variety of important documents, equipment, and specialist skills that the embassy preferred to keep in-house.

Among other things, one passenger in particular was about to get the embassy very involved in the VDR. She had a normal seat like the other Portean diplomats and embassy personnel, and a normal carry-on bag like the other passengers. Quizzically, she was wearing sunglasses. Indoors? At this time of year? The stranger joined the crowd leaving the aircraft through the gate, drawing little to no attention from anybody.

Ritsuko strolled into the airport terminal and shouldered her backpack. There wasn’t much in there, a laptop and some files, that was especially important. After all, her favorite tools of the trade were firearms, not paperwork. It chafed to be forced to track down paperwork instead of targets, and her failure to obtain information in Aura only further irritated her. She knew something was up, so she remained vexed when the Valefontene soldier, Bianka, seemed unable to clarify the situation.

Hence why she joined the diplomatic mission. In part, she was assisting the FIA establish intelligence connections in the VDR. Primarily, however, she was getting to the bottom of this whole “Queen of Spades” charade. Her handlers might’ve given her a mundane job, but she’d die of shame if she failed it. Perhaps the only consolation in all this was the off chance she might be able to shoot someone eventually.

The Valefontene government was kind enough to set aside a section of Customs to process the arriving Porteans. An orderly line was proceeding through at a steady pace. Everything had been checked twice before the arrival anyways, so no issues were expected. Gradually, Ritsuko neared the customs officer checking passports. She handed her passport to the officer without a fuss.

“Business or pleasure?” asked the agent.

“Business”

“How long will you be staying?”

“Two Weeks”

“Have you anything to declare?”

Ritsuko momentarily considered telling him about the suppressed handgun^[4] in her luggage. She considered telling him about the very real possibility that she could kill somebody. She even considered casually informing him that, in a sense, her business was a form of espionage. As a joke, of course.

“No”

“Welcome to the Valefontene Democratic Republic”

Nowhere in particular
Lotschen
Ratte
9 February 2018, 4:02 AM VST

“He’s late”

“Now now, Chekhov, don’t get impatient. He’s only two minutes late”

“He promised he wouldn’t be a minute late, and now he’s two minutes late”

“Damnit, you wanted to meet him, play by his damn rules”

“Vasyli you promised this would go off without a hitch”

Vasyli sighed and checked his watch. 4:03. 4:04. Normally, such a delay is nothing to worry about. But in a situation as high-stakes as this, one couldn’t take chances. Lights came into existence outside the barn. A car pulled up. A door slammed. The wooden gateway into the barn opened and revealed a man in a sweater. Chekhov and Vasyli didn’t dare laugh at a client.

“You have the goods?” the man asked.

Vasyli nodded and picked up a briefcase from the ground. He walked over and handed it to the newcomer. He opened the case and examined the contents.

“This is it?”

“That is all we could sneak past the Rattean patrols. The rest is on a container ship, ready to go. We hoped that you wouldn’t mind” blustered Vasyli.

“I’m supposed to pay you for this crap?”

“We got you what you wanted, we tried our best. It’s bad enough that we’re getting involved with this Lotschen situation, can we just get this over with so we can go home?” exclaimed Chekhov. Vasyli shot him a glare, willing him to shut up. This was a dangerous man.

“It’s not for Lotschen” he said before closing the briefcase “ten”.

“Ten thousand? For all that? Do you know how hard it is to sneak five hundred R-600s^[5] past the Rattean Coast Guard? To say nothing of the Gazils^[6]!”

Chekhov was raising his voice. He was panicked. All desperate men were.

“Hiding twenty thousand rounds of .45 caliber ammunition isn’t cheap!”

Vasyli nearly had an aneurism. He gripped his comrade and started yammering at him in their native tongue.

“Very well, if you can provide an example to me I will pay you the amount you desire”

This froze the two Meridians. Vasyli and Chekhov regained their composure. Chekhov waddled over to a crate behind him while Vasyli fervently apologized. He returned with a compact submachine gun in his hands and a magazine for the man to inspect. Picking it up, the man rolled the weapon around in his hands.

“Decent quality, I guess”

The man pulled a loaded magazine out of his back pocket and slapped it into the magwell. He racked the bolt, priming the weapon. Chekhov backed off slightly in fear.

“Y-you shouldn’t do that” he mumbled, afraid.

“No, perhaps I should have hired thrifty merchants”

The forest around the barn muffled a burst of gunfire, and the air became silent once more.

Office of the Ambassador to the Valefontene Democratic Republic
Portean Embassy, Erebus
Valefontene Democratic Republic
9 February 2018, 11:12 AM VST

Ambassador Nakatomi rubbed his temples. A smattering of files, folders, and business cards were strewn about his desk, apparently left there in the chaos of daily routine and labor. The Ambassador evidently had his work cut out for him, and he could barely keep up. Ritsuko could tell that much by the state of his desk. This might be a tough sell.

“Let me get this straight, you want to engage in activities of questionable legality in the form of what is essentially espionage in a country that I am trying my damnedest to keep in a favorable state of mind regarding our home country” he said, exasperated.

“Essentially, yes” replied Station Chief Tanaka, matter-of-factually.

Ritsuko was enjoying this dynamic. Nakatomi, ever in a state of distress from the unnecessary effort he was putting into his job. Tanaka, the wise crack, could never not be totally at ease with everything. Personally, Ritsuko felt Nakatomi took his job too seriously.

“Why?” pealed the Ambassador.

“Agent Nanasawa’s mission has taken priority, I got orders from the top to get her what she needs to kick ass. And that means having you talk to the MvH to get her the clearance she needs to get that ass kick on”

Nakatomi looked like he was going to pull his hair out.

“The… last thing I need is one of you spooks gallivanting around the VDR with a loaded handgun, doming people in the street like you’re Johan Fucking Weiss^[7]”

“Don’t be silly, ambassador, if we were to be killing anybody it would almost certainly be in a private location, out of public view”

The Ambassador had to hold his head in his hands for a few moments before speaking again. “Fine, I’ll get you your contact but please for the love of ham, don’t cause an international incident. If one happens, on my watch, I’ll have your head. Got it?”

“Loud and clear”

3 minutes later

Tanaka closed the wooden doors of the office behind him. Wiping his hands on his coat, an old habit from his own youthful spying days, he turned to Ritsuko.

“You heard the angry old man, don’t fuck this up. He is right about the international incident, the last thing the FIA needs right now is an embarrassment. I don’t know about the killing part, but don’t get yourself involved in weird shit. Your objective, and your only firm objective, is to gather whatever information you can about the Queen of Spades, their relevance to the Union and the FAP, and ensure that it does not become an issue. By any means. Got it?”

“Affirmative, sir. I won’t fail” answered Ritsuko. Tanaka nodded and started walking down the hall.

“I’m sure you won’t need it, but your weapons are in the armory. You’ll have your meeting with the MvH later today, assuming the Ambassador holds up his end. Hopefully, if this isn’t a rabbit hole, you’ll be done by the end of the week and dispense with this errand” finished Tanaka.

“Thank you sir” was all Ritsuko could answer with.

While she started walking down the hallway to the elevator, Tanaka spoke up again.

“Agent Nanasawa”

Ritsuko stopped and turned around.

“Yes?”

“Please, aim for center mass. We absolutely hate cleaning up messes here”

“Of course, sir”

[1] – Sakura Brigade Naval Infantry Company – the Sakura Brigade PMC maintains a company of soldiers trained in expeditionary and amphibious operations to help train similar elite forces in smaller countries as well as perform peacekeeping missions where rapid deployment and unusual terrain are considerations
[2] – Sasekawa S191 – a kind of VTOL business jet manufactured by Sasekawa Heavy Industries
[3] – Diplomatic Mission Expansion – although the FAP has maintained diplomatic relations with the VDR since they were restored in 1973, only recently has this relationship been upgraded to embassy status as a result of increasing trade ties between the two nations.
[4] – Suppressed Handgun – a reference to the Seburo M6SD2 that Ritsuko now carries. Essentially an internally suppressed Seburo M6, a derivative of the now famous Seburo M5. It is chambered in 5.7mm Auto.
[5] – R-600 – a line of hunting and marksman rifles chambered in .308, often used by military and police forces as a sniper rifle. Stylish wooden stock.
[6] – Gazil – a compact submachine gun manufactured in many countries but originates in Iodinae. Essentially an Uzi. Chambered in both 9mm and .45 ACP.
[7] – Johan Weiss – reference to an action movie that has become quite popular in the FAP. A disgraced hired gun returns to his former life in search of revenge. Involves an inordinate number of headshots and blood splatters.

by **Empire of Donner land** » Fri Mar 09, 2018 3:54 pm

Olmar Bay, Imalakia

4/2/2018

"You're in a box. A moving box. They want you dead, or in their lie..."

The aircraft, a large military transport that had left Donner Land a day earlier from Soraught, hit the tarmac with a slight bump, the inside jiggled and the platoon of troops and equipment recoiled themselves as the troops realized they had touched down in Olmar Bay. Thousands of kilometers away from Donner Land. As the aircraft taxied the soldiers inside now knew they were in a foreign country, and not one that bordered them as they had previously expected before Voy. With all the humidity and heat that came with it, but at least they were near the ocean. Clarehg stood up as the rear cargo doors opened, flooding the space they were in with bright tropical light and blue skies. Other people would be happy to see such a sight, not him. In fact, some people were incredibly delighted as soon as they were able to see the sun. It was a sight most people couldn't get in Donner Land, what with the constant overcast clouds.

"Well, Sergzen, What do you think about our new home?" Inster half-joked, he'd been sitting with him on the entire flight, watching Clarehg's disgruntled face watch the other faces of the platoon. Though Clarehg tried to be stoic, Inster was a good friend and he couldn't feel the need to hide his emotions and feelings from him. An exception he took out when he had contended with Lieutenant Burezhg in Soraught.

"It's too damn bright." He strained, shielding his eyes with everyone else as they walked out of the aircraft, their eyes aching as they adjusted to the new environment.

Then the Lieutenant spoke, "Welcome to Imalakia for real, you'll all be doing a good service to the world here."

by **Valefontaine** » Mon Mar 12, 2018 5:14 am

MEANWHILE
_{Somewhere in Aufurst}
_{Aufurst, Vaal}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/10/2018 - 6:52 AM VST}

“This was underwhelming…” Vipr and his men had been tasked with investigating the origins of the Vaalbarium shipment that’d wound up in IAF hands, after it had been traced to a warehouse at the docks of Aufurst. It was rather underwhelming that there was no fight, nor a hint of any enemy presence there, but some interesting things had been left behind. A few airtight barrels of Vaalbarium[1] had been left behind — there had clearly been more at some point, but the material had likely been moved to other cells by now.

“And some files in… whatever language they speak.” Gryf picked up a stack of papers, his AR goggles processing the contents and relaying them back to the MvH, who they obviously were acting on the behalf of. “Any better luck, Zolík?” He turned to the third man, who was busy sifting through one of the crates.

“I’ve got some maps. Most of these look to be shipping routes, maps of Imalakia… I’m using my goggles to screenshot ‘em anyway.” He replied, casting aside a few maps as he continued searching about.

“Fair enough. Suppose we’ll call in the MvH to assess the hazardous materials and call it a day—” Vipr paused as he heard the sound of a vehicle’s engine outside. “Somebody’s home.”

The three men assumed positions of cover relative to the source of the sound, the vehicle entrance to the warehouse. Surely enough, the doors opened, a truck entering. Behind it was an SUV, which came to park beside the truck inside the warehouse. The truck seemed to be manned by the driver, along with someone who was clearly to handle dropping off… something? The SUV, on the other hand, seemed to serve a support role, five passengers stepping out to protect this man. Obviously, they were armed, Varennikov™[2] assault rifles in hand. Behind them all were three other men, who had clearly opened the warehouse doors to permit the vehicles entry, and promptly closed them to guarantee secrecy.

The three operators maintained silence as the terrorists made their unwitting approach, until the men — six in total, passed by Vipr, who had sought cover behind a few Vaalbarium barrels. Opening fire, his reflexes were quick, the men dropping dead in unison as his teammates joined him in firing at the enemy.

It seemed those responsible for driving the vehicles had noticed, attempting to pull away, but ending up ramming the closed warehouse entrance. As the last of the Imala terrorists made their stand, Gryf rolled one of the Vaalbarium barrels at the two vehicles, complementing the move with his Kb-92[3]’s under-barrel grenade launcher, which set off the volatile material with ease. With a thunderous, blue-colored BOOM, it was over. The truck had been practically obliterated by the blast, the SUV beside it a flipped, burning wreck. The Imalakians themselves had been vaporized by the blast, as was standard when such Vaalbarium reactions occurred.

“We aren’t action heroes, Gryf.” Vipr turned to his comrade, frustrated he’d been so reckless in dealing with the enemy.

“A necessary measure, sir…” Gryf led the trio to the partially vaporized remains of one of the men, gesturing to the KM-61[4] machinegun resting beside the body. “It woulda been bad for us if he’d shot at the barrels. I spotted it out with my goggles, decided I couldn’t take chances.”

“Fair enough.” Vipr nodded. “Zolík, call it in. I want MvH[5] to clamp down on this site before any more unfortunate convoys come along.”

SIDE A
_{State Apartment Bloc No. 418}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/10/2018 - 7:30 AM VST}

BOOM

Bianka’s eyes fluttered open, still somewhat disoriented from the clamorous sound that’d awakened her. She and Maltt had seemingly fallen asleep together at the sofa while they watched Firewalk. Had someone from their chatroom been there to see them like this, she’d be teased to no end, for sure.

“What the hell was that?” Maltt was beside Bianka, rubbing his eyes as he adjusted. His less-than-ideal sleep had been interrupted by the sound, and, being foreign to the big city, he had no idea what the sound was.

“Just a 188. You’ll get used to them flying by.” Bianka said. These sounds were easy for Mieszko citizens to recognize, as it was nothing short of a Lo-188[6] supersonic transport breaking the sound barrier. After all, one of the world’s busiest airports[7] was less than an hour’s drive away. While it wasn’t typical for the booms to be this loud, it was likely the aircraft in question had been flying lower than usual.

“...wait, I fell asleep here?” Maltt had taken awhile to become aware of his surroundings, recollecting how they’d watched a film together the previous night. His face became a slight red from whatever was going through his mind. “This never happened, m’kay? They make enough jokes about us being a couple on the chatroom as-is.” Maltt looked to Bianka, laughing nervously.

“Oh, come on! All we did was watch a movie together… I was probably too sleepy to get to my bed, so I just ended up falling asleep here.” Bianka shrugged.

“Maybe I’m just overthinking things.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. I’m gonna take a shower and start my day.” Maltt stopped, as if remembering something. “Oh, yeah. You still onboard with going shopping today?” They’d talked about it last night, as Maltt hadn’t really bought enough clothing to last him the weeks ahead.

“Oh, yes!” Bianka had just remembered their conversation the night prior, and her offer to take him to the People’s Mall.[8] “I’ll, uh, take a shower after you, then I’ll make us some breakfast, then we can go to the mall. Sound cool?”

“Perfect. I won’t take long, don’t worry.” Maltt headed off to shower, leaving Bianka alone in the living room. The television had been left on while they slept, and it was droning on with the usual morning news.

“…Valefontene security contractor group ‘KODEK™’ is believed to be involved in an attack targeting the Victoria Hotel in Gondo township, Imalakia. It is believed the private security forces crossed the Turmenistanian-Imalakian border sometime last night, targeting the hotel that was housing officials affiliated with the Imala Action Front. Brother of Ma’athist party leader Dr. Andrianasy Manelo, Mpande Manelo, was critically injured during the five-hour firefight. At least 47 Imala fighters were killed during the exchange…”

_{One nice shower and a pleasant breakfast later…}
_{People’s Mall}
_{9:45 AM}

The People’s Mall was situated in downtown, its grand size a hallmark of state-planned architecture from the mid-70s.[9] The morning sunlight shone in from above through the skylights, bathing everything in a pleasant, warm hue.

Bianka had been here before many times, as she frequented the many shops at the mall. Even as she strolled about the vast corridors of shops, restaurants and inner plazas, she felt something tugging at the back of her mind. Being here brought back memories she’d had here, going out shopping with friends… especially her time with Sigmund[10] before their deployment to Sishai, a friend she’d never get back.

Bianka was brought back to attention by Maltt, who walked beside her. “Hey look, the Macrosse™ Shop. Since all this is on you, I won’t buy expensive.”

“Maybe I’ll get myself some things too, while I’m at it.” Bianka followed Maltt inside, being welcomed by the vast aisles of high-end designer clothing, the perfumated scent of the store, and the sound of future funk[11] playing on the store’s sound system.

The two began browsing the store’s selection, quickly becoming lost in the vast selection of things they could buy…

“How does this look?” Maltt gestured to a brightly-colored blue shirt with Miderkont™[12] airliners set upon intricate, colorful geometric patterns. The Macrosse™ logo was on the left side, just above the chest region. All Macrosse™ products bore this distinct logo, as it was much more than just a means of indicating what brand one was wearing, it was a statement — of authenticity, of taste.

“It looks great!” Bianka herself was busy picking out clothes, seeming conflicted between the pink and the green Macrosse™ designer polo shirts she held before herself. “Hmmm… pink or green?”

“Never seen you in a polo shirt before… green might complement your jacket.” Maltt replied.

“Lemme try that out, then.” Bianka set the pink polo down, heading to one of the changing booths. Closing the door behind her, she set her jacket and “BORN TO DIE, WORLD IS A FUCK” t-shirt aside, quickly slipping on the green polo.

Bianka took a moment to admire herself in the mirror, the polo seeming to fit quite nicely with her Tucci™[13] shorts and black hair. Putting her jacket on, it seemed to combine quite well.

“What do you think?” Bianka emerged from the changing booth, her thumbs pointed to the green polo she was trying on.

“I think you should become a model.” Maltt smirked as he glanced at her outfit, impressed at the minimalist beauty of it. He now had a shopping bag with him, with a few sets of shirts and pants inside.

“Aww, thanks!” Bianka headed back inside to change back, so they could get through with buying what they wanted.

“You think I’d make the cut if I tried enlisting?” Maltt asked on the other side, waiting for Bianka to finish getting changed.

“I mean, if I make the cut, you probably can, too.” Bianka replied, slipping her t-shirt back on. Picking up the green polo she’d tried on, she exited the changing room, ready to purchase what she wanted — but not before quickly fetching a few pairs of Macrosse™ shorts from one of the aisles before they made for the checkout.

“As part of our Luperkalia[14] sale, all couples get a 50% discount!” The cheery, upbeat girl at the counter greeted the two.

“We’re n–” Bianka was interrupted by Maltt almost instantly.

“Sounds great!” Maltt exclaimed.

It took a moment for Bianka to realize Maltt was helping her by lessening the amount she’d have to pay. Needless to say, she felt a little bit embarrassed – and stupid – for letting it go over her head.

“Alright! It’s on me this time.” It always was, but keeping things simple was paramount in public. She pulled her UltraCard™[15] from her wallet, sliding it through once all their purchases had been scanned – amounting to a total of Ꮴ980, which was cheaper than usual.

_{After_Lunch}
_{State Apartment Bloc No. 418}
_{2:28 PM}

Bianka had gone out for lunch with Maltt after their shopping spree, the two having talked to great lengths about many things as they spent time together. The two were idling by in the living room, their attention drawn to their phones.

The television was droning off in the background, playing a documentary[16] about the state of affairs in Imalakia.

“You seemed a little out of it back there. You alright, Biko?” Maltt seemed to have noticed Bianka’s behavior back at the mall to have been somewhat distant, as though something had been bothering her.

“Just some sad memories.” Bianka said. “I’ve told you about it before, haven’t I?”

“Not the full story, no.” Maltt shook his head. “If it’s–”

“No, it’s fine. The full story isn’t all too complicated. I knew this guy since grade school… we went way back. Me and him were pretty much just, like, friends… until I joined the military, and then, to my surprise, we were in the same unit. We had a lot of experiences together, fighting together creates a bond unlike any other.” Bianka explained. “We went through a lot together. Remember the Markeb Siege?[17] We were there. We had been through so much together, I didn’t know that our deployment to Azenyanistan would be the beginning of the end…” She shook her head, saddened by some of the memories resurfacing. “He sacrificed himself so that me and the others could get out alive… I won’t forget that.”

“Have you opened up about this to anyone else?”

“Not this much, no… somehow I trust you with this more than other people. I mean,” Bianka paused, as if contemplating how to word her next statement. “I mean, like… me and you, we’ve known each other for such a long time, and we’ve seen and done so much crazy shit together on the Internet. We’re on the same wavelength, y’know?”

“I get what you mean. Yeah, it is pretty crazy… one of my best friends back home knows about you and the others, and the general idea of what happened in our old RPs and shit. It’s, like, a complex idea. Only certain people can know about these things, because, like… you gotta explain it to someone already familiar with the concept, who already partakes in these kinds of things… otherwise you’ll sound weird.” Maltt shrugged.

“I mean, yeah… it does take someone who’s done it before to understand the context of RP stuff. Most people in the chatroom still do that stuff, but I myself don’t really have the time or mindset for it anymore. Games are much more entertaining to me than creating some magnum opus on the Internet.” Bianka said.

“Yeah, I get you. It was definitely, like, a major catalyst as to how we became a group and all.”

“And especially to our friendship.” Bianka added. Indeed, the two had known each other for a long time. What’d started as a rivalry had, over the years, blossomed into a close friendship built on mutual respect and appreciation.

“It is pretty amazing how we understand each other on, like, so many levels. I wouldn’t mind going out somewhere this week or something… see how it’d work out.” Maltt could definitely agree that he and Bianka had developed an interesting relationship, especially in the past week. But was he perhaps hinting at something more?

“What do you mean? We’ve been doing stuff together all week. You mean, like…?” Bianka tilted her head slightly, unsure if he was getting at something.

“I was thinking that maybe you and I could try something new…” Maltt looked to his friend, and attempted to be as honest as he could. “I was thinking something official, since we’ve been just generally doing things together for the past week. That night on the riverwalk we had together, it was so relaxing. We should totally do it again.”

Bianka took a second to process what Maltt was saying. Some kind of date? Was this merely more platonic discourse, or was it…? She assumed the former.[18] “I-is this a date? Maltt, I’ve always been open to the idea of something like–”[19] She was interrupted by her phone ringing, and loudly so. Judging by the three-tone beep, the call was military in nature. “Fuck!” Bianka was startled by the sudden disruption, quickly picking up her phone.

“Sierzant Bianka Ziekowski, please report to LFZ Gamayun for briefing. The nature of this message will be disclosed to you upon briefing. God bless Valefontaine.” The automated message was clear, it was another call to the barracks.

Bianka seemed to change her demeanor immediately at this, as if it were a serious matter. “I’ve got to go.”

“What happened?” Maltt was oblivious to what Bianka had heard on the phone, and was slightly confused of the suddenness of the call.

“Military call. I’m sorry, but I need to go.” Bianka’s response was vague, but it was undoubtedly to do with her military duties. “The keys are there in case you need to head out for anything. I’ll be back, don’t worry.” Bianka gestured to the keys on the coffee table before leaving in a hurry. Whatever it was, it was an urgent matter.

SIDE B
_{LFZ Gamayun}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/10/2018 - 4:30 PM VST}

When Bianka had arrived at LFZ Gamayun, she had been immediately called to one of the interview rooms. As the name indicated, such facilities were typically for interrogating rather questionable individuals, and thus it worried Bianka that she’d done something wrong.

She sat in the room idly, tapping her feet to a song in her head as she waited for whoever it was to come by and question her.

Her question was answered when a man in a blue MvH jacket entered the room, taking a seat across from her at the metal table.

“You might be a bit concerned as to why you’ve been brought here. Perhaps you think you did something wrong… well, don’t worry. This isn’t entirely about you, moreso someone you are aware of.” The agent appeared to be in his mid-twenties, definitely older than Bianka. Sitting across from her, his posture was a confident one, exerting dominance through his firm body language. This was undoubtedly the psychological training such federal agents underwent.

“What’s the matter?” Bianka tried to keep calm and cool, as situations like these were typically where she’d get nervous.

“A name. Radomir Kaczka. You know of him, and he knows of you. Is that not correct?” The federal agent got straight to the point, clearly not intending to waste time.

“Yes, I know him. Why, uh, something the matter?” Bianka could only imagine something had happened relating to the MvH agent she’d briefly helped.

“I assume you helped him with the Jet dilemma.” He said.

“Yes, I did.”

“I will be blunt — Kaczka is on the run to bring Jet’s files to the capital, fleeing mercenaries we can only assume are affiliated with KODEK™. How do we know this? Because Kaczka has left a trail of dead mercenaries across Mieszko in the process of his escape.”

“KODEK™?” Bianka asked.

“KODEK™ Security Corporation. In many regards, they’re a shell corporation, working on Copeland sysCorp’s behalf… but it’s not quite clear who they work for now that Copeland’s stock has tanked.”

“I assume I was called here for something relating to this matter, then.” Bianka replied.

“Of course. Your squad’s taking orders from me. Let’s put it this way — you know of the White Annex, correct?”

“Um, yes. It’s where the experiments happened, with Jet and other people.”

“Indeed it was. There is a second facility, however: the Black Annex. It’s located beneath the Cormorant casino over in Sztauffenburg… it’s some kind of archive, it probably has even more stuff relating to the Mieszko papers, and if we’re lucky, it may have a file on their operation relating to Kaczka. If Copeland is implicated, there’s no doubt there’ll be something there.”

“You want me to break into the Black Annex?” Bianka seemed to understand what the agent was getting at now — her knowledge relating to Kaczka seemed to make her a part of this plan, in some way or another.

“Yes. Go to the barracks and get acquainted with your team. I’ll be there for the real briefing soon.”

_{Reunion, Briefing}
_{LFZ Gamayun - Barracks}
_{4:45 PM}

The barracks were as Bianka had always remembered them, although it felt somewhat different now that she’d associated this place with casual conversations with Sigmund. The others were waiting by now, some a bit surprised to see their squad leader return.

Bianka herself was taken aback at the sight of her squad — there were only three people besides herself present. Was this going to be a smaller operation? Among them, she could only recognize Leonid, the squad’s machinegunner back in Azenyanistan.

“Is this everyone?” Bianka eyed the group skeptically, having expected more men — and more faces she could recognize. It was perhaps somewhat offputting that they were all wearing civilian clothes, but it seemed that such was intentional… perhaps this operation was to be covert in nature?

“Yes, sierzant.” Leonid replied.

“Mind introducing yourselves?” She looked to the two men standing beside Leonid.

“Privat Niko Meisneczek, at your service.” A blonde, muscular man replied with a self-assured smirk. His bright red tropical shirt was a sharp contrast to the black tracksuit Leonid wore. Niko’s eyes were concealed by a pair of Dominator™[20] spectacle shades, despite the fact they were indoors.

“Privat Adrienne Kerst. Pleased to meet you, sierzant.” A slightly shorter young woman standing beside Niko wore a simple grey hoodie, which covered her short black hair. It was quite obvious to Bianka what their personalities were, based on how they dressed — but that wasn’t the issue here, they had a briefing to attend to.

“I look forward to working with you all.” Bianka nodded, looking to her rather small squad. “Briefing is soon, so we should all get moving.”

With that, she led them on to the briefing, curious as to what the coming operation would entail…

_Meanwhile
_Dream
_{6:30 PM}

The last thing Bianka recalled was that she’d felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over her during their helicopter trip to Sztauffenburg, falling asleep to the hum of the rotors.

Looking to her surroundings, she noted she was aboard an airliner, seated beside one of many windows. The seats were of a vibrant red fabric, and she could hear nothing aside from the constant white noise of the aircraft itself. The ocean below was a neverending purple sea, water gently moving as it produced fractal patterns. The skies in the distance were that of a vibrant purple-yellow sunset, the sun bathing the few clouds existent in this space in vibrant hues. In the sky there were bubbles of varying size, and the occasional aircraft flying in the distance. This was a dream, and a very vivid one at that.

“I am dreaming.” Bianka was familiar enough with lucid dreaming to ensure she’d remain lucid with the statement.

“Indeed you are. Perhaps.” A teenager was seated just beside Bianka, wearing a fancy pink bathrobe. His hair was something of the past, a large pompadour that seemed to make him look taller than her – though he probably was. Something about his voice made a chill run down Bianka’s spine, as something was just… off about it, as though it were being spoken backwards and forwards at the same time. “Or a meaningful coincidence. Have you ever killed an innocent person?”

“No.” While Bianka was aware this was a dream, she certainly felt unnerved by whatever thoughtform sat beside her. If this was a lucid dream, she could control her environment… only she couldn’t.

“Which Bianka is speaking?” The mysterious individual asked.

“There is only one me.” Bianka replied. It was then that she’d noticed there was a third person seated at their row.

“There are many.” The teenage boy left his seat and disappeared down the winding corridor that was the airplane cabin, revealing the third person on Bianka’s row. A girl, with black hair, attention directed away from Bianka. She wore a VDR airborne uniform, but the flag seemed to be inverted.

“This is a load of bullshit.” Bianka muttered. She hoped the arrival in Sztauffenburg, back in the conscious world, would be a speedy one.

The girl seated across from Bianka slowly turned around, revealing herself to be an exact doppelgänger of Bianka.

“Are you me?” Bianka was left slightly unnerved at the sight of the doppelgänger, knowing quite well of the implications such omens allegedly carried.

“I know of you.” It responded in the same bizarre vocal mannerisms of the odd boy. The doppelgänger’s gaze became increasingly eerie as Bianka notice its eyes, which were a cloudy, pale and glassy compared to her own eyes.

“Who are you?”

“East of the sun, west of the moon. I have killed, and I will kill many more soon.” The doppelgänger gestured its hands into a downward-pointing karana mudra, and Bianka felt a sudden urge to look to the window and close her eyes, feeling unsettled even within the bizarre, vivid dream. As she did so, she suddenly felt reality return to her as she woke up…

A CITY OF VICE
_Safehouse
_{Sztauffenburg, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/10/2018 - 7:30 PM VST}

Bianka was abruptly jolted awake as the helicopter landed. She didn’t exactly get the ideal sleep the previous night, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise she’d managed to briefly fall asleep during the helicopter trip.

“Beauty sleep, sierzant?” Leonid joked.

“Better than sleeping on the job.” Bianka took a Korphetamine™[21] tablet before getting up and leading the squad off the Vi-44.[22]

Upon disembarking, they were greeted by a lone MvH agent, who gestured them to follow.

“I been briefed on the matter already... I got weapons and clothing for the operation inside.” He spoke with a heavy accent[23], leading them down from the rooftop by the fire escape. The building itself seemed to be a midscale apartment, something few would assume to be a government safehouse.

They reached one of the doors along the fire escape, entering the safehouse. Inside it seemed to be an ordinary apartment, save for the shelves of ammunition and lewd magazines.

“Clothing, sir?” Bianka asked.

“Folks ‘round here are a little different. You gotta blend in, y’knowwhati’msayin?” The federal agent opened a closet, revealing gavéczh[24] hats and a variety of ponchos, buckskin jackets and business sportcoats. “Pick and choose. We’ll get to firearms once you’re all ready.”

“Easterners.” Bianka muttered, slipping on a sportcoat and donning a gavéczh hat. The rest of the team got to picking out their own wardrobe from the selection in the closet, and soon the squad resembled a lineup fit for an action movie.

“Never thought I’d see the day I’d be playing cowboy for some government spooks.” Niko glanced over to a mirror set beside the closet, impressed how well the poncho went with his shirt.

“Now, about those guns…” Leonid adjusted his gavéczh hat.

“Adjacent room.” The agent replied, leading the team to a reinforced metal door. Stopping before it, he leaned in on a scanner-like device, pressing a nondescript button. “Luka V.” He uttered, eyes focused on the lens of the scanner. It seemed to recognize this, as the door’s locks disengaged. He opened the door, leading them into a vast armory-like space. There were guns of every kind and variety organized neatly upon the racks, though a more specific assortment was laid out for them on a steel table at the center of the room.

“Now we’re talking.” Adrienne immediately picked up a KbK[25] from the table. It quickly became apparent to the squad that the jackets and accessories they’d gotten from the previous room were full of inner sleeves, pockets and more – perfect for concealing weapons.

“Fair enough.” Bianka found that there were velcro fasteners inside her sportcoat, intended to hold a concealed weapon – in this case, a KbK. She filled the other inner pockets of her coat with more magazines, ready to face… whatever they were about to run into. “As a refresher…” She announced, tucking an Egzekutor[26] pistol into her coat. “I’ve got a map of the Cormorant’s layout. We go in, Niko and Leonid set up the sound device to distract casino security while me and Adrienne check downstairs. We regroup, then we breach the Black Annex. Easier said than done.”

_{High Roller}
_{The Cormorant}
_{8:00 PM}

“You ever been to a casino, sierzant?” Adrienne asked, looking to her superior.

“Sadly, no. I don’t gamble.” Bianka replied. They were passing by rows of various slot machines, many of them occupied by people busily gambling. They were right to have put on their (rather odd) cowboy-esque outfits back at the safehouse, because it seemed to be the general wear of most present.

“Easterners sure are a strange bunch…” Adrienne looked to the poker tables as they passed them by, which were occupied by people who were loudly talking about mundane things. The accents of eastern Sorenians[27] was quite defined, with its good share of slang, cursing and hardly-comprehensible pronunciation of Valefontene words.

“I’ve never been out east before. Glad we didn’t get here in the daytime, we’d probably sweat ourselves to death… anyway, the stairs should be right around here.” Bianka walked on, leaving the room of slot machines and tables behind as she entered a corridor, which was equally busy with drunkards, gamblers and loudmouths. Confirming Bianka’s suspicions was a stairwell guarded by two casino security guards.

“Take it easy.” Bianka whispered to her squadmate. They came to a stop near the stairwell, Bianka leaning against the wall to make pointless small-talk until the disruption came about. “Tell me more about yourself, privat.”

“Well, I suppose I told you my name back in Mieszko. I’ve always aspired to join the military, ever since I was a kid… used to go hunting a lot with my dad, it made me into a pretty good shot.” Adrienne replied. “I heard of you when that siege happened at the consulate.[28] I hope me bringing it up doesn’t bother you, I guess it’s just… your reputation precedes you.”

“I get that a lot.” Bianka said. “It’s fine… hold on. How long are they taking?” She paused to check her wristwatch, as though to see if the other two were behind schedule.

An ear-splitting “OMEGALUL. AAAaaaaAAAAAHHHHH” came from another wing of the casino, much to the confusion of those around them.

“The fuck?” One of the guards muttered, leaving his post at the stairs to find the source of the noise. The other guard said nothing, but followed along anyway.

“Now we’re talking.” Bianka led the way down the now-vacant stairs, hand clutched on the suppressed KbK tucked inside her coat. As the two began their walk downstairs, Bianka gestured Adrienne to stop. “One sec.”

“Huh?” Adrienne asked.

“CDD. It’ll keep us clear from camera view.” Bianka pulled out a small device, no larger than a flash drive, from the pockets of her Tucci™ shorts.

“Aren’t these illegal?” Adrienne glanced at it with suspicion, wondering as to why her superior had such a questionable thing with her.

“Lot of things are.” Bianka activated the device, tucking it away again. The two headed down the stairs, guns now at the ready. The winding stairs seemed to have no doors at the interval, until they’d descended for quite some time. A second, distant “OMEGALUL” echoed in the distance, perhaps to lengthen the distraction.

Eventually they’d reached the bottom of the stairwell without disruption, and it became readily apparent that whatever this place was, it hadn’t seen use in a long time. Large derelict boilers stood at the sides of the room, quite obviously in disuse.

“Some security for a boiler room.” Adrienne looked about the room, wondering where the Black Annex would be located.

“Hmmm…” Bianka took the blueprint of the Cormorant casino out of her coat, then looked to the wall directly opposite to the entrance they’d come from.

Setting the blueprint aside, she got up and drew her KbK, slamming its stock into the wall. The sound it produced was one that implied a hollow space on the other end — the Black Annex.

“It’s hollow!” Adrienne exclaimed. “This place was hidden… and almost in plain sight.”

“Looks like the MvH was right — as usual.” Bianka took out her VN/N921[29], using it to contact the other two. “Regroup with us at the boiler room. You know where it is.”

“Right away.” Leonid responded on the other end.

Bianka put the radio back in her suit pocket, waiting for the other two to come along. Soon enough, they did arrive, Leonid removing a breaching charge from his backpack for the next phase of the operation. All had gone nicely so far, but now they’d officially be breaching the Black Annex. There was no telling if they’d be walking into a deserted archive or an underground complex crawling with KODEK™ hirelings.

“Remember, we don’t know what we’ll be walking into. Guns at the ready.” Bianka ordered.

“All due respect, sierzant… when’d our government allow a corporation to get a small army?” Niko asked.

“Since 1973. Blame democracy.” Bianka replied sarcastically, stepping aside as Leonid set the charge against the wall. As if on cue, the team assumed positions, guns trained on the to-be hole.

“Breaching.” Leonid clamped down on the detonator in his hand, blasting a hole into the concrete wall. Surprisingly, light shone in from the other side — a sign the facility was quite busy.

The team advanced with caution, entering through the breach with their weapons at the ready.

Inside felt completely different from the cold, derelict boiler room they’d been in moments earlier. Their boots left prints of dust on the sterile tile flooring as they checked corners, suspicious of the fact there was nobody in the corridor they were in.

“Huh?” Leonid muttered, aiming down the corridor. The corridor made a turn to the right further down, where they intended to go.

“What’s the matter?” Bianka asked, gun trained at the corridor’s end, ready for anything that could potentially come forth.

“This place is awfully… empty, don’t you think?” He asked.

“Hard to think a corporation like Copeland would leave a place like this completely undefended… be ready.” Bianka replied.

“Maybe they didn’t expect us to come across this place, sierzant?” Niko proposed, occasionally checking behind them.

“Or…” Bianka reached the corner of the corridor, instantly happening upon the bullet-ridden corpse of a KODEK™ contractor. The blood was fresh, too. “Someone got here before us. Stay on alert.”

Adrienne knelt over, looking at the dead body… and the ventillation grate resting near his corpse. “Whoever it was, they must’ve come in through the vents.” She pointed upward, gesturing to an open hole in the ceiling. The duct was, indeed, large enough for someone to have jumped down from.

“The blood ain’t even dry.” Niko added.

Bianka led the team forward, expecting to some degree an ambush of some sort. As they moved forward, they happened upon more dead bodies of security contractors, further indication a struggle of quite some scale had transpired.

It was, of course, a stark contrast to the silence of the facility. No alarms, nothing else that would indicate a group of trained professionals had massacred the staff at the facility. If there were alarms, then clearly the assailants had disabled them somehow.

“Was this an inside job?” Bianka thoughts were running wild as she descended the corridor, rifle trained at whatever could come her way.

The team happened upon the entrance to a server room — most likely the rumored archive, bracing for the worst as they entered.

As with much of the rest of the facility, the room was a bloodbath. The bodies of the former security were littered about the room, the server computers they were presumably tasked with protecting having been trashed by whoever had come through. What hadn’t been taken had been destroyed.

“We gonna call it in, sierzant?” Adrienne asked, glancing over at the wrecked computers.

“Hang on.” Bianka approached a computer at the corner of the room, kneeling over and looking closely at the tile flooring.

“Something the matter?” Leonid seemed confused at whatever had gained Bianka’s attention.

“This computer was moved. There’s scratches on the floor.” Bianka got back up, pushing the computer aside. An unassuming metal door lay before them, seemingly undisturbed by the chaos of the rest of the room.

The team promptly formed up on the wall, preparing to breach the room. With a firm turn of the knob and a resounding kick, Leonid led the way in.

To Bianka’s own surprise, there was a survivor. Laying on the floor, a lone merc clutched an assault rifle, returning a wide-eyed, terrified gaze.

“Drop the weapon.”

“Fucking feds!” His finger approached the trigger, and in a split second Bianka had opened fire, disarming the man — and taking away a few of his fingers, too.

“Detain him.” Bianka ordered. “I assume the Ministry will do the interrogating.”

While the squad got to apprehending him, Bianka took a moment to access the computer in the room.

“I just handle the security cams! Fuck!” The contractor said between agonized screams.

Checking through the computer’s contents, it quickly became apparent to Bianka that the man was right. There was, indeed, security camera footage on the computer. She tried to find the most recent file, quickly locating it.

“What’s the matter, sierzant?” Leonid was half-busy trying to keep the bleeding, agonized mercenary from lashing out, as he’d be a valuable source of information.

“I’ve found our party-crashers, actually.” Bianka replied. On the footage, one could clearly see a group of armed men descend from the vent, cutting down the KODEK™ security contractors with ease. Their weapons struck Bianka to be oddly familiar… “Our attackers’ weapons look to be foreign. Call it in… the MvH will have a field day with this one.”

OF IMMEDIATE CONCERN
_{The Redwood Lodge}
_{Somewhere in Valefontaine}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/10/2018 - 10:00 PM VST}

“There’s been an unexpected change of plans.” Goettczheld announced.

“That being?” A man in a red porcelain mask asked.

“Our KODEK™ operators have had quite some difficulty apprehending the MvH agent… all the groups sent out were either killed or forced to retreat. It’s leaving behind quite the mess, and it’s only a matter of time before the public becomes aware of the war happening beneath their noses.” Goettczheld said.

“Perhaps we should call in the Roughnecks.” A man in a bird mask suggested.

“Roughnecks?” The man in the alligator mask questioned, looking to bird-mask with suspicion.

“The finest security contractors at our disposal. Currently they’re on a job in Imalakia, waging their own little war against the IAF. We could call them back, but it could hamper our own efforts against the IAF.” Bird mask said.

“Perhaps that is in order.” Goettczheld nodded. “But that is not all… there has been an attack at the Black Annex — no, it was not the MvH’s doing. We suspect a foreign actor to have entered the fray… but to what end?”

CONTEXT NOTES

1 - Vaalbarium - Discovered in 1985 in Antarctica, the element Vaalbarium is highly reactive in all circumstances. Being highly radioactive in conjunction with its short default half life, the element Vaalbarium decays into other actinides such as Uranium and Astatine during its half life. Although it is to date, the most unstable element discovered in the world, surpassing Francium by only five minutes less, its stable and natural isotope Va-250 may prove to have some applications. Due to its instability and deadly effects, there is yet to be a use for this element however, at least publicly that is the case.

2 - Varennikov™ - Due to its cheapness and relative ease to maintain, Varennikov-made assault rifles are relatively widespread in the third-world warzones of Ophir.

3 - Kb-92 - Karabin 1992. The standard-issue assault rifle with Valefontene forces.

4 - KM-61 - Standard-issue GPMG with Valefontene forces.

5 - MvH - In Valefontene: Ministeria vün Heimatsezvieczenstwo. Ministry for Homeland Security. The sword and shield of the Party, and the state.

6 - Lo-188 - The Lorenz Lo-188 is a Valefontene turbojet-powered supersonic airliner. Designed in 1970, its entrance into service was delayed by the Auburn Summer, eventually being introduced in 1973.

7 - world’s busiest airports - Mieszko International Airport.

8 - People’s Mall - The People’s Mall in Mieszko was built in the mid 1970s, bearing the hallmarks of state-planned architecture. Due to its massive size, replacing the mall is not cost efficient, and so the massive relic to Valefontaine’s transition to a more capitalistic system stands tall…

9 - mid-70s - After the Auburn Summer of 1973, Valefontaine began a transitional period towards its present consumerist system. In this time, it abandoned isolationism and opened up to international trade.

10 - Sigmund - Sigmund was Bianka’s childhood friend, but was killed during the Battle of Aura Airport during the VDR deployment to Azenyanistan. Read my posts in the FOA thread.

11 - future funk - Future Funk is markedly popular in the VDR, and is among one of the first 'mainstream' genres to owe its origins to the Internet.

12 - Miderkont™ - Miderkont World Airways is flag carrier of the Valefontene Democratic Republic, and its logo is the symbol of international flight, leisure and supersonic air travel.

13 - Tucci™ - Named after its founder, Enrico Tucci, Tucci™ is one of the most sought-after fashion statements one can wear in the VDR.

14 - Luperkalia - A festival throughout the month of February commemorating youth and love.

15 - UltraCard™ - One of many credit card brands in the VDR.

16 - documentary - Secrets of the Ygarthene Colonial Empire details the various exploits and atrocities undertaken during the colonization of Imalakia, and its effects into the modern day, including various isolated villages that still believe Imalakia to be ruled by Ygartha, and their adherence to Ygarthene customs, including police uniforms, flags, and even language among tribal elite.

17 - Markeb Siege - In 2015, the MvH and elements of LAtR-13 were involved in the siege of a compound of cultists who worship the star Markeb. It solidified LAtR-13’s position as a politically reliable unit for the MvH.

18 - She assumed the former. - Bianka is not the smartest…

19 - [dialogue] - Ouch.

20 - Dominator™ - Specializing in sportswear and sunglasses, Dominator™ is quite known for its overly-masculine marketing campaigns.

21 - Korphetamine™ - Used by the military, Korphetamine™ is the go-to choice to keep yourself awake during operations.

The actual composition of the drug itself is not known for sure, some believe it to be an amphetamine derivative of some sort.

22 - Vi-44 - Cargo helicopter in use with the Ludzowe Armie.

23 - accent - Inhabitants of eastern Soren, particularly the desert, often speak with an informal dialect that makes heavy use of slang, swearing, incorrect grammar and incomprehensible hollering.

24 - gavéczh - Comparable to a cowboy.

25 - KbK - Karabin 1992 Kompakt. Smaller variant of the Kb-92.

26 - Egzekutor - Standard-issue sidearm of the Ludzowe Armie. Revered by gun enthusiasts for its sleek appearance.

27 - Sorenians - The eastern state in Valefontaine, Soren is often remembered as the victorious power of the Continental War, which unified the various kingdoms in Valefontaine into the Valefontene Empire.

The Kingdom of Soren existed as an entity within the Valefontene Empire, ruled by the Valefontene Emperor, until the January Revolution. It was reconstituted as the State of Soren in the aftermath of the revolution. Its people are known to be a hardy, cultured people.

28 - consulate - During the VDR deployment to Azenyanistan, Bianka accidentally got caught up in the siege of the Esgonian consulate at the hands of local militias. Chaos ensued.

29 - VN/N921 - Standard-issue radio for VDR ground forces.

by **Turmenista** » Mon Mar 12, 2018 7:25 pm

PRAELIA CAICOS ⍺

__________________________________
_{R. Naylor Grill[1]}
_{Enfield, Arcadia Island}
_{Republic of Turmenista}
_{2/13/2018 - 4:53 PM TST}

Same shit, different day.

- Anonymous

"As civil war continues to rage throughout the war-torn land of Imalakia, many Turmenistanians still in the country worry about their safe exit out of the..."

Being stuck in a failed state was a large issue by itself. Trying to get out of said failed state was equally as pressing, maybe even impossible to some.

Well, at least it's not me, this time... Xori sat at the bar with some bottled alcoholic concoction sitting in front of him and a girl he'd probably forget about beside him, completely oblivious to either one for the time being as he became almost totally immersed into the pressing news story displayed on the TV mounted on the wall.

Allen Churchill[2], a young blonde-haired news anchor that he'd seen several times before, was going over the daily report in Imalakia, further elaborating on the worsening situation in the dangerous country in the form of subtitles on the bottom of the screen. Usually Allen's hair would've caught his attention right away, but there was one thing strikingly different compared to his report this time around:

The reporter was fully geared up in a blue "PRESS" flak jacket and matching blue helmet.[3]

In times like these, it was hard for anyone to even realize how close Enfield was - how close Turmenista was, to a deadly civil war.

Enfield was a popular vacation spot not only for Turmenistanians, but also for foreign tourists from all throughout Ophir and the rest of the world, who would regularly flock to the beautiful coastal city after they got bored looking at Turmenistanian Sloths[4] and other animals on the vast savannas of the Kawanahi Savanna[5]. The city of Amama, directly north of Arcadia Island, was the polar opposite of the tropical paradise that was Enfield. It was a dirty, depressing cesspit of chaos, crime and roadside bombs, and yet was one of the only few cities that the Imalakian government still had their grasps on, barring the capital itself and a myriad of other cities. All of the other cities located deeper inland were controlled by rebel forces, ethnic militias or, even worse, cannibal bandits[6].

Amama, it seemed, had become totally used to receiving to be getting the worst of the conflict, judging from how apathetic the denizens were to daily attacks.

Xori had read all of the intel already, so if anyone thought that living in Analmanga - the capital where the President of Imalakia himself was humorously referred to as the “mayor” of the city - was terrible, they would be in for a big surprise to find that Amama was even worse. A typical day in Amama would go as follows: Ma'ahist forces would besiege the city on all sides, and government forces would actively (and blindly) fire back in whatever direction they so pleased, leading to large instances of civilians dying in the crossfire. The clashes between rebels and government troops was so frequent here that journalists and civilians dubbed the city the "Tracer capital of the world," as seeing tracer fire at night wasn't a very uncommon sight over there.

On top of it all, the lines between criminal and rebel were gradually becoming more and more intermingled. It wasn’t too common to see a drugged-up street ruffian wielding a RPG-7 in one hand and a sawn-off RPK in the other, talking casually among the people of Amama. Getting into the city was a chore by itself: Virtually all of the major roads leading into Amama that remained were effectively booby-trapped by landmines or car bombs, and rightfully so, seeing that absolutely nobody in their right mind wanted to go to Amama. Getting out was a chore as well, seeing how the government had made it hell for anyone to even leave with a series of roadblocks, barbed wire, and sniper nests all in the way of anyone looking to leave the bullet hell.

This also meant that any and all Turmenistanian civilians still trapped in Imalakia - most of whom had come in on an aid mission to the city a few weeks ago[7] - could not leave without any external help. The question remained, though, What external help?

Xori’s attention was briefly drawn away from the television screen by a light tap on the shoulder, and he turned to the woman beside him, who was smiling very cheesily. He chuckled at her awkward, possibly drunken attempt at a smile, setting his drink to the side. "What are you smiling about, sweetheart?"

"Nothing!" She giggled back hysterically. "Well, actually, you kinda remind me of someone I met back in Biko when I was training[8], and you look exactly like him!"

"Oh, then, uh, you might've got me mixed up with someone else, then," Xori quipped, attempting to convey his disinterest in the girl in as suave as a manner as he could. After a brief pause, and no reply, Xori was convinced that his attempt to drive her off was a failure, until she started to laugh out loud obnoxiously once more. She was doing such a great job at pretending to listen that he didn't mind pretending it had nothing to do with his attempts to leave. Were it not for someone in the back yelling to "turn the telly[9] up," he would've been halfway to the truck already, but stopped in his tracks to take a look at the television.

The AI war correspondent was crouched down on the roof of a building, all donning navy blue flak jackets and blue helmets - like Churchill before - while a wide view of the city could be seen in the background, huge columns of smoke steadily rising from large fires erupting from several of the tan-colored buildings. Although they were seemingly safe from danger, once the volume came up and the crackle of gunfire was heard, the grave situation that they were in became clear.

"...yes, Paul, we are taking cover, as you can see. As you just saw in the background, just moments ago, Ma'ahist rebels broke through the defensive perimeter around the city and began their assault..." He said. "We're trying our hardest to get some camera footage, but we're at risk of being attacked by rebel snipers thinking we are government soldiers, if we do so.” He then pointed out to the outskirts of the city, where more and more explosions were seen along the defensive peremiter. “It may look like most of the fighting is taking place far away over there on our cameras, but in reality, the fighting's taking place just a mere five kilometers away from where we currently are. Now, according to the government troops, they estimate that there's about two or three hundred of these Ma'ahist rebel fighters currently engaging in urban combat with government troops on the outskirts of the city, and they're all pouring in quite simply like ants. Most of the Imalakian civilians in the crossfire of the fighting have since fled the city, but we were advised by the government troops to stay at this hospital. The Major in charge says that we’re not at risk of being engaged right now, and a helicopter will be dispatched shortly to take us to safety, but we’re not entirely sure if his words are true. Keep in mind, we have had reports of rebels engaging neutral civilians and using improvised mortars befo-"

A deafening crack came over the reporter as the camera zoomed off to the outskirts of Amama. Flashes of gold splashed in irregular patterns in random positions all throughout the city, giving it the impression that it was a firework show, until the plumes of smoke came up and several buildings near the hospital were rocked with rockets and explosions from improvised MRLS batteries. The camera itself shook as the cameraman rushed to get to cover out of shot.

Once his "smartphone"[10] suddenly started vibrating in his pocket as the entire pub erupted into a clamor of shouting, It didn't take too long for Xori to piece together what was happening: Turmenistanian citizens were under attack by Ma'ahist fighters, and he was being called in to save them.

PRAELIA CAICOS β

__________________________________
_{Evans Air Station TOC[11]}
_{Enfield, Arcadia Island}
_{Republic of Turmenista}
_{2/13/2018 - 5:15 PM TST}

"Major Townsend, you're aware of the severity of the situation as it stands now, correct?"

“Indeed.”

“So, you’re well aware of the implications of a full-fledged military operation in Imalakia, on your authority?”

Townsend paused for a moment as the distorted voice stopped speaking, before continuing almost automatically. “Yes.”

He didn’t see any reason why JOKER[12] would be opposed to the idea at all. Turmenistanian citizens were under attack in hostile territory, and he was just given the order to wait it out? Unacceptable. Politics and bureaucracy played no part in direct action to rescue trapped civilians in a warzone, and JOKER was turning out to become more of a hindrance to his team than an actual asset. Officially, Major Townsend, a Commando[13] himself, was in charge of the SOCOM aspect of Group 15[14], but since Group 15 was an offset of the shady Central Intelligence Command[15], comprised mainly of SOCOM Commandos and CIC agents of a division he knew virtually nothing about, JOKER, the alias given to some high-ranking spook, was actually the one in charge here. Still, JOKER was mainly there to keep the rest of the CIC - the rest of the world, for that matter, from knowing that Group 15 even existed. And, unsurprisingly, they didn't exist.

“Then you wouldn’t be so surprised to know that I’m not supporting this operation. You can effectively say goodbye to it.”

“J, we don’t exist, any info from us is just gonna be wiped out of existence,” Townsend insisted. “Even if the civies ask who we are, we just say that we’re Commandos and that they don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh yeah?” The voice raised slightly in volume. “What the hell am I going to do when the President finds out about Group 15 and how it’s been doing all this shit without his approval? Moreover, Sections 1 and 2[16] of the CIC are all trying to one-up each other - they’ll go batshit insane when they find out the shit we’ve done. Absolutely nobody except for you, me, and Section 3 HIGHCOMM know we exist.”

“You just took this around into a bloody fucking circle, J.”

“A bloody fucking circle will be necessary to keep this mess from going public. Call off the operation. Now.”

Townsend leaned back in his office chair. The entire office was covered in two-way mirrors - that way no one from the outside could see what happened on the inside. One of them, in particular, was false, and he was staring right at it, situated in the corner of the room. A black, glassy screen in front of where his whiteboard usually would’ve been.

“J, I’m talking to a wall.”

The black screen unpolarized to that of a television screen, where it became evident that a modified voice wasn’t coming out of the screen actually, but rather that of a young woman in her twenties, decades younger than the almost borderline geriatric that was Major Townsend. A bespectacled glare wasn’t too hard to think of as intimidating until he remembered how much power this young woman had, and how classified her actual identity had to be for what she did.

“J, just give me this one chance,” He insisted. “The operation won’t be that long. All I ask for your favor. You be our eyes in the sky, and I’ll take my men.”

After a while, the young woman behind the screen let out a soft sigh. “Alright. Fine, Major. This operation is happening without HIGHCOMM’s approval, and on my authority. CODENAME: PRAELIA CAICOS. You've got 30 minutes to get as many guys from Group 15 here, geared up, and out to Amama. I'll go with one, if I have to."

"Thank you, J."

You have no idea the amount of fucked we will be if HIGHCOMM finds out we did this, moreover if we fuck this up.”

Townsend relaxed, leaning back in his chair. “Trust me, it’ll be a simple in and out mission.”

“Time’s wasting, Major. Get to it. Don’t scratch the birds[17] on the way out. JOKER, out.”

PRAELIA CAICOS Γ

__________________________________
_{Evans Air Station}
_{Enfield, Arcadia Island}
_{Republic of Turmenista}
_{2/13/2018 - 6:39 PM TST}

Said “bird” was actually three birds, and they were just landing now, alongside a much larger, much more familiar YF-21 Icarus Tiltjet VTOL.[18] These were the menacing new YF-66 Voortrekkers[19], and had it not been for the fact that he was informed of their arrival beforehand, he probably wouldn't have even noticed they were coming in until they entered earshot. Boasting an impressive amount of rockets and missiles hiddden in interior pylons along with its notoriously powerful 30mm autocannon, the two-seated Voortrekkers were already battle-tested and proven to be incredibly nimble and stealthy, packing a disproportionately large amount of firepower compared to it's rather small and minimalistic frame. Quite honestly, it looked like some spaceship out of a science fiction movie, rather than a regular attack helicopter. Much like earlier concepts of stealth helicopters, the helicopter was painted with dark, low-radiation iron ball paint, its exhaust pipes being shrouded up as well.

The YF-21 Icarus, on the other hand, was a proud and very loud transport VTOL, sporting powerful rotors and a durable frame that regular transport choppers could only envy. Effectively, it could land anywhere, quickly take off anywhere, and, on some occasions, carry in small vehicles in its transport bay, depending on the size. Usually these consisted of modified military Heinessen Utahraptors [20], tiny Zodiac boats, or ATVs, but for the purpose of this mission, the transport bay had been fitted to become dedicated troop transports, for carrying in around 30 to 45 people and adequate equipment to dangerous areas.

Major Townsend, already partially-geared up, stood beside the YF-21 Icarus silently as the doors leading into one of the hangars opened up, and out came Group 15. 15 of Turmenista's best, the group was a diverse unit that had seen conflict all over Turmenista, Imalakia, and Ophir, for that matter. While it was, officially, operating under the supervision of the CIC Section 3, these were some of the best, if not the best guys that Turmenista had to offer, especially in regards to a situation like the one in Imalakia currently. Leading the group was Xori Ubuwenge, a seasoned commando who had personally seen the death and destruction in Imalakia and had already done what he could to keep the conflict from spilling over into Turmenista.

Many of these men, like Xori, were formerly commandos or other special operatives of TAFOR SOCOM, who all had transferred to the CIC-owned division in their own way, some way or another.

Xori and his team strolling down the tarmac towards the Icarus was a photo worthy of a shot by a professional photographer, but there was no time for silly games or photographs now. People were dying and would continue to die if they still stayed around on the airfield looking pretty, and they all knew this. When they approached Townsend, the Major nodded at the men, stepping aside to allow the men to board the helicopter and take their respective seats in its expansive cargo bay. Townsend was the last man in, his weapon slung to the side with one hand as he used the other to hang onto the cargo netting on the roof. The Icarus's VTOL engines spun up as the transport helicopter took to the skies, alongside the YF-66 Voortrekkers. The cargo ramp closed by itself as Townsend turned around to the men, pulling the microphone of his headset close to his mouth as he held on. Pretty soon, each of the helicopters were outside of the Airbase's airspace, and Enfield had become but a speck in the background as the 3 helicopters flew over the Bay of Enfield[21] at their top speeds.

"[CMD] Group 15, this is Command, Callsign Ghost Actual," JOKER's voice was heard over the COMMs as the helicopters spec towards Amama. "[CMD] The objective is to secure Turmenistanian civilians trapped in Imalakia. According to the AI reporters down there, there's about 20 of them trapped in a hospital on the verge of being overrun by Ma'ahist rebels, and the Government forces aren't doing a damn thing to help defend since they're all dead. They were told by the Embassy that help is on the way, and we hear they've taken refuge in a break room. We are that help. Get in, grab the civilians, and get out. The Voortrekkers will provide air support and deal with the enemy artillery."

"[CMD] Actual, this is Xori, acknowledged. We'll get those civies," Xori said over his own radio as Townsend navigated over to the pilot's cabin. The Major would be providing security to the helicopter in the event it was hypothetically shot down, and would also be operating the 20mm minigun on the side. This meant that Xori and his team were given the easy task: grabbing some 20 civilians trapped in a hospital full of hostile forces. It was a simple task by itself, but knowing Imalakia, there would probably be a nigh uncountable number of Ma'ahist rebels besieging the place. They'd have to clear out the building, first and foremost, and secondly, they'd have to secure it against any impending attacks. It would take a lot more than just a simple house clearing to secure these guys, and the Icarus was going to have to dust off as soon as they cleared the place, lest a RPG hit it while it was taking off.

Luckily, that was why they had the Voortrekkers. Any potential long-range threat to the hospital would promptly be erased by the stealth gunships and their cannons. Knowing this, Xori could rest easy. The mission was a simple in-and-out sort of deal, but knowing what was at stake here, the ZM6 OICW[22] he carried along with him weighed down on his lap all the more as their helicopters sped towards Amama.

Saying a silent prayer in his head, he reached up to the top of his head, where he felt the faceplate of the Armat Advanced Combat Helmet[23] first, then reached upwards and pulled down the set of ENVG-IIs[24] over his eyes. As the ENVG-IIs activated, the dark surroundings of the aircraft became a dark emerald green, and everything became much more visible, with a wider, field of view instead of a limiting, narrow FOV given by regular goggles. The ENVGs HUD also displayed all pertinent and necessary information present on most HUDs, including altitude, bearing, and squad composition, but all of this could be removed lest it clutter up the vision of whoever was viewing through it.

He pulled his microphone close to his mouth. "[SQD] Boys, gear up and get ready to roll. We are green and mean, we're gonna do this and it's gonna be clean. Let's go."

PRAELIA CAICOS Δ

__________________________________
_{Skies above Amama}
_Amama
_Imalakia
_{2/13/2018 - 6:39 PM TST}

"[VHC] God almighty, man. They're all on the IR scopes. Major Townsend, we're counting two times mortar batteries near the city outskirts, coming up over 'em now." The co-pilot of the Icarus flipped a switch in front of him as a robotic arm lowered a targeting scope down over his eye. An audible beep was heard over the COMMs as he switched comms channels. "[SDE] Lusaka 1 and Lusaka 2, this is Kingfish. We're lasing two mortar batteries down on the ground, could you please be so kind as to use some of those ASRAMs[25] and take care of 'em for us?"

"[SDE] Kingfish, this is Lusaka 1. We copy. ASRAMs out. They're history. Splash in 5 seconds." A moment after saying this, two, golden flashes appeared on the sides of the gunship as two missiles streaked from the sides of the Voortrekkers. From what he could see, the copilot saw the missiles slam into the mortar batteries, sending the technicals that the mortars had been mounted on flying as smoke and fire rose from the site like a science experiment.

As this happened, though, the Pilot began to worry about something else than mortar batteries - low and loud beeps went off in the cabin as the pilot leaned to the side to flip a few switches, swearing audibly. "[VHC] Shite. MANPAD truck, bearing three-four-zero. It's got a lock. He's on us."

"[VHC] I'm on him," Townsend declared, spooling up the minigun as the MANPAD truck came into range. Tracer rounds from the minigun flew down from the side of the VTOL, almost appearing to be like a laser to the naked eye, as armor piercing high-explosive rounds pelleted the side of the pickup truck, turning what used to be the truck gunner into chum as hot white flames on the IR rose from the white pickup truck.

Townsend continued to fire, a hot stream of 7.62mm rounds flying from the side of the VTOL as it came in for a landing on the hospital in question, slowing down as it did so. Townsend hopped off the minigun as he clambered over to the door controls, slamming the button to lower the ramp down. Group 15 stepped off the aircraft as it hovered over the helipad, before flying off back into the tracer-filled skies of Amama.

Xori was the first man up to the door, kicking it open and steadily heading downstairs, leading the way down the flight of stairs to the first floor they were tasked to clear out. Xori dropped to his knee and took cover at the end of the hallway while he heard voices coming up from the end, then fired as soon as he saw movement downrange. His team did the same, spewing rounds downrange and dropping the line of Ma'ahist rebels with ease. However, as Xori made it over the doorway they had come from, one of the Ma'ahist fighters slowly raised his sidearm, in a desperate last stand.

A Group 15 operative next to him was the first to the bullet, swinging up his ZM7 JACKHAMMER[26] to level and dropping the man, though he quickly crumpled down into a crouch moments later as the rest of Group 15 cleared the room. He had taken a round to the leg that, thankfully, wasn't from the rifle, but still stung like hell. Xori grabbed the man by his vest and pulled him to safety while Group 15 cleared out the floor below. "You alright, man?"

"Stings like hell, but I'm all good." He winced as Xori treated the wound with a FAK and autoinjector, then pulled him to his feet. "I'll stay up here, keep the roof secure."

"Alright, man. I'll get Jo up here with ya." Xori nodded, activating his COMMs. "[SQD] Four, get up here, Rocky got nailed in the leg but he's fine. Secure the roof and upper floor, take out anyone who tries to get to this building."

After Jo gave an "Acknowledged" and ran up the stairs past him, Xori sprinted down the one flight of stairs leading to the floor below. There, Group 15 was already engaged in close combat with a few Ma'ahists inside the hospital, who were using several rooms for cover, whilst barking orders at each other. Xori himself reached to his side and pulled a grenade from his belt.

After pulling the pin, and letting the grenade cook for a while (lest he lose his hand out here), Xori tossed the frag grenade downrange, ducking down behind an overturned desk for cover as it detonated. As a few of the rebels cried out in pain and a few others died, Group 15 pushed on, OICWs exchanging with AKs and SKS rifles as they pushed downstairs. Xori himself nearly was hit as he was the last to take cover on the lower floor, his ENVG-IIs highlighting the very white and bright outline of a Ma'ahist rebel with a sawn-off PKP running towards the.

Breathing heavily and bracing his rifle on an overturned desk, Xori fired a short burst from the OICW, dropping the man running towards them, but not the two others at the end of the stairway. For his mistake the more accurate SKS's began to fire, chipping away pieces of the wall and other columns as he leaned back into cover. The shots slammed into the concrete, ricocheting off into random directions as Xori pulled the empty magazine from his rifle, taking a fresh new one from his chest rig and slapping it into his rifle. He pulled the slide back on the rifle and let it go, before waiting for the SKS's to stop firing. As they did so, he raised his ZM6 and fired away, taking two of the Ma'ahists down as he paused, scanned the room with his rifle, than gave the all-clear sign.

He extended his index and middle fingers over to the end of the hallway, signalling for the team to continue. "Move up! Secure that door."

The Group 15 operatives jogged over to the break room door, with Xori himself stepping over to the wall as the men took positions outside the area. "[CMD] Ghost Actual, this is Xori, We've reached the break room. We're securing the civilians now. Out," Once this was over, he knocked twice, paused, then once on the door. "Turmenistanian forces - we're friendlies. Open up!"

No reply. Instead, he cleared his throat, then, much louder, "Turmenistan magte - ons amandla vriendskap. Maak vula![27]"

Slowly, the doors creaked open, and the men streamed into the room, an amalgamation of Turmenistanian citizens there to greet them. AI reporters and aid workers alike ran to greet the men - many of whom were confused by their strange, almost futuristic BDUs and uniforms. Xori himself raised his ENVG-IIs up and lowered his helmet's faceplate, proceeding to greet one of the men, an AI reporter - in fact, the same one he had seen on the news. Churchill was carrying an AKS-74u along with him, carrying it like a true soldier would've. Xori raised his eyebrow. "You were protecting them?"

"Of course, sir. I used what I was taught back in basic. I didn't want to be a hero but..-"

"We don't have time for anyone to be heroes. While I appreciate what you did, we've got to get you out of here." Xori said. The reporter nodded slowly, understanding the severity of the situation. Xori raised his voice so everyone could hear. "We're moving. Everyone, get to the roof. We don't have much time left to get you all out of here."

As other members of Group 15 rushed the Civilians up to the upper floors, Xori paused, three quick chirps causing him to reactivate his COMMs. "[SQD] Actual to Jo and Rocky. How's the outside looking?"

"[SQD] Jo to Actual, not looking good at all. Fucking Ma'ahists are regrouping, man. Counting multiple enemy PAX[28] and one times technical approaching."

Xori swore loudly. taking his ZM6 from his shoulder as he turned to the Group 15 operatives by the stair escorting the civilians up. "Danny, James. Down here, now." "[SQD] Actual to Jo and Rocky. I'm taking Danny and James down there to deal with 'em. Let us know when you think it's clear, and we'll be getting the hell out of there. How copy?"

A moment later, the voice of Jo came back over COMMs. "[SQD] Jo to Actual. Copy."

"Well then, let's fuckin' go, boys." Xori pulled the ENVG-IIs on his helmet down and pushed the faceplate back up, hustling down the stairs as fast as he could. Already, the sputtering engine of a technical was heard outside on the ground level, and the lobby wasn't very forgiving to any attackers coming in with the amount of cover possible for potential defenders. Xori rested his ZM6 on the front desk and waited for the men to disembark, counting down to three in his head as the Ma'ahists approached.

Once they were at the door, two ZM6s and one ZM7 fired, sending hot blue tracer rounds downrange and into the men as they attempted to enter. Xori pointed to the swiveling machine gun of the technical, and Danny raised his ZM7 in response - a grenade fired from the underslung launcher, exploding above the technical and shattering the nearby glass as it detonated. The Technical was toast, but they would be toast as well if they didn't move out of there. Xori yelled at his squad mates to rally up with him and leave, shooting at the approaching silhouettes at the entrance of the hospital.

"[SDE] Actual to Kingfish. Civilians have been secured. Requesting dustoff on the roof." Xori announced. A few moments later, "[SDE] Kingfish to Actual, acknowleded. Beginning final approach to the hospital roof."

Whilst being chased, Xori dropped another live grenade to stall the chasers, ignoring the building shake as it detonated. Eventually, they made their way to the roof, spreading out as the Icarus came in for a landing on the helipad. Its noisy engines blew wind all across the helipad, but the landing was a successful and stable one on the helipad. There was no time to marvel over how such a large craft was capable of performing such a difficult landing on a small helipad. As soon as its landing gear touched the helipad, Xori and Group 15 crouched down and took defensive positions all along the craft, whilst Townsend guided each and every one of the Civilians inside, until Group 15 was all that remained. Xori remained out, once again, as the last man inside the VTOL before it took off, hopping onto it just as it began to take off from the roof of the building. While Amama shrank slowly into the background as the VTOL left, the Voortrekkers remained, firing volleys of rockets from their rocket pods and rounds from their 20mm autocannons down to the city below, adding to the hundreds of tracers bouncing off and firing into the air as they did so.

Before the ramp of the VTOL closed, Xori could've swore that he saw several rockets slam into a building nearby his position. The building shook, sputtered, and eventually collapsed in on itself, as several explosions similar in size sprouted up alongside the building.

CONTEXT NOTES

- R. Naylor Grill, named after its creator and war veteran Richard Naylor, is a popular restaurant and pub in Enfield located atop a 35 foot high cliff on the northernmost side of Arcadia Island. It’s most known for its ubiquitous amount of parrots, large parties, cliff jumpers, and sunsets.
- A bit of a Turmenistanian celebrity and poster child of AI news. Known for his blonde hair, blue eyes, and handsome appearance.
- AI reporters often go into active conflict zones with blue flak jackets and helmets on, to distinguish themselves as press and not actual combatants. Most of the time, this works...
- Large, Mammalian carnivorous creatures that inhabit the Kawanahi Savanna of Turmenista. Some believe these to be prehistoric mammals, some of the oldest on the planet. They are docile, unless provoked, and have been known to clumsily tip over cars and chase poachers for dozens of miles.
- A large savanna in southern Ophir extending 900,000 square kilometres (350,000 sq mi), covering much of Turmenista and parts of Imalakia. It is home to one of the largest national parks in the world, the Kawanahi National Park, which is a major tourist attraction for its superfluous amounts of wildlife and beautiful landscape.
- Rumor has it that gangs of cannibals led by a man named General Mouse Trap scour the landscape of Imalakia, eating and killing innocent people indiscriminately in Mouse Trap's search for an Imalakian renegade general known simply as General Mouse.
- A few weeks prior to the post, several Turmenistanians of a NGO ventured into Imalakia to assist people displaced by the infighting.
- Every Turmenistanian citizen must go through 1 year of compulsory service in the military reserve (or non-combat volunteer service), which is to ensure that every able-bodied Turmenistanian will be able to fight in the event that a fight is to break out.
- Slang for television.
- Most special operatives in TAFOR's SOCOM are issued PRQ-117 COMMLINKs, which are multipurpose PDAs functioning as GPS units, music players, radios, and maps all in one unit. They are able to be easily concealed as regular cell phones.
- Evans Air Station is a large airbase located on Enfield, housing several air and helicopter squadrons. It is noteworthy as a place frequented by SOCOM commandos, and for test flights of new prototype aircraft that are not classified. The TOC is short for Tactical Operations Center.
- The pseudonym given to a CIC Field Intelligence Liaison acting as the supervisor for Group 15, a covert team of SOCOM commandos operating under the authority of CIC Section 3.
- One of the 3 special forces types operating under the Special Operations Command. Commandos are elite military operators often sent on difficult, daring missions to complete a variety of tasks, more often than not with a very high degree of success. Also used as a catchall term for describing Special Forces in general.
- Group 15 is a highly classified, covert black ops unit of elite SOCOM commandos operating under the authority of CIC Section 3. Group 15 is comprised of some of the best soldiers that Turmenista has to offer. Due to its highly classified nature, the group, officially, does not exist.
- The Central Intelligence Command is Turmenista's chief intelligence agency, for both external and internal matters. It is split up into three primary sections, and Section 3 in particular deals with Military Special Warfare (MILSPECWARCOM) and external intelligence.
- Sections 1 of the CIC deals with internal intelligence and investigations, and is analagous to a real-life agency like the FBI. Section 2 deals primarily with information and, during wartime, propaganda.
- Group 15 has a few birds...
- A large tiltjet VTOL aircraft used primarily for transporting infantry, supplies, and small vehicles. While usually unarmed, the Icarus does have the capability to carry weapons on multiple weapons pylons, and comes by default armed with a laser designator.
- Shiny new experimental stealth gunships that have seen combat in raids on militias throughout Turmenista and, more recently, Imalakia.
- Heinessen Utahraptors are heavily modified, armored, offroad mine-protected utility vehicles designed by Emmanuel Heinessen and manufactured by the Armat conglomerate and Heinessen Motorworks for both the civilian and military markets. The Utahraptor in particular is the name of the road-legal civilian variant, whilst the military specification, known as the H-150, includes added armour, a full RCWS system, smoke grenade launchers, and camera suite.
- A large bay north of Enfield, and popular spot for aviation enthusiasts because of the great angles one can view Turmenistanian Air Force aircraft coming in and landing from on the cliffs.
- The ZM6 Objective Individual Combat Weapon are next-generation rifles used in service by Turmenista's Special Operations forces, including MILSPECWARCOM and SOCOM operatives. Visually similar to the real-world PANCOR Jackhammer shotguns, the idea of these weapons was to combine a precise assault rifle with a semi-automatic grenade launcher firing air-bursting munitions. While working models have been produced and are issued to special forces operatives, the end goal is to implement advanced computer technology into the weapon, allowing it to fire fired grenades or other types of ordinance that are able to explode above or beside targets hidden from view.
- The Armat Advanced Combat Helmet are new helmets which cover the entirety of the wearer's head, face included. These helmets come with integrated
- ENVG-IIs, which appear as simple goggle-like coverings over where the eyes on the helmet wearer would be. The ENVGs function not only as regular night vision goggles, but also as black and white hot IR vision goggles. A basic HUD, similar to that of an aircraft, is able to be projected into the wearer's vision, including a compass, watch, and other schematics.
- The aptly-named ASRAMs are ASMs analagous to the real-world AGM-114 Hellfire air-to-surface missiles. These work very well with precision strikes and destroying enemy armor, and are able to be guided manually or locked onto any laser designator.
-ZM7 Jackhammers are nearly identical to the ZM6 OICWs and real-world PANCOR Jackhammer shotguns, save for the fact that they are semi-automatic shotguns with full chokes equipped. Thus, they are noteworthy for their increase in range compared to most conventional shotguns.
- In situations like these, some Turmenistanians, especially ex-military, will not respond to regular English, lest the supposed "rescuers" be terrorists or mercenaries who happen to know English. More often than not, they will respond to Turmenistanian, which is a language created by mixing the old colonial dialect with the native Turmen.
- Military jargon for infantry.

by **Western Pacific Territories** » Mon Mar 12, 2018 9:01 pm

Analamanga, Imalakia
Govt. Controled Territory

Eric wanted to see how much Kugande had to offer if his guys stuck around. Kugande wanted to show Eric how much. An courier had been dispatched, followed by six armed men who drove with him to a meetup spot at Analamanga's airport. Inside a small room with a lit-up bulb providing lighting, he made some small talk with the courier before they both sat down at a table. The courier, who had carried in a briefcase put it down on the table and opened it. The lid going up, he saw into the briefcase a whole lot of currency with a note at the top. Seeing dollar-signs in his sight, he picked up the note and read it. "Current value of Imalakian currency to Ygarthan leyvals is 177.32:1. Hope you didn't come in thinking of this as a quick-buck contract." Eric looked up at the courier. "Is this a fucking joke?" The courier coughed. "There's about 30 million sitting in a bank vault across town." Eric's hopes went up a little bit. "Ygartha or Imalakian?" The courier finished his question. "Imalakian." Eric sat there for a few seconds, trying to convert it. He grabbed a calculator conveniently on the desk. "Thats about... 170,000 Unionist. Does this guy have any idea how much gas costs here? That's perfectly good gun money sitting across town waiting to be stolen by corrupt officials, we should probably pick it up..." He stood up from his chair. "Kugande also requests you speak to him." said the courier.

An hour later, trucks still driving money across town under guard, Eric found an opportunity to contact Kugande and did so. As he wondered about how many people in this country had cell service, the phone picked up. "Hello." Eric said, anticipating what Kugande wanted. Instead he got the voice of someone other than Kugande. "The President is unavailable at this time. He is meeting with his generals, and he wants you in attendance at the National Palace. He demands you show up as quickly as possible." Eric formulated his response. "Tell him I'm coming." He hung up. He had driven over to the place where the money was being held to watch the proceedings in person. Alot of government troops had came out, it made sense given how many bandits were present but Eric had a feeling that Kugande's funds would be under much less threat if they were simply driven across the city in some ramshackle, un-suspicious jeep instead. Turning the keys on, he and a personal bodyguard drove off.

National Palace
Analamanga

As Eric entered the National Palace, and walked through it's halls to a back courtyard where Kugande was, he couldn't help but feel that somebody would be chastised by Kugande. It wouldn't be him - Kugande was in fact quite pleased with his investment, the artillery bombardment of Analamanga had weakened in strength and the little victories he did get seemed to greatly invigorate his armies in the north of Imalakia. But of course, that was if anyone was going to be punished. He didn't think this as anything more than a discussion of plans about what to do with a particular pocket of UCP fighters. Entering the back courtyard, he saw a large open-air tent with Kugande and a few others congregating around a table under it. Kugande, seeing him approaching called out. "Eric, my friend, come over! Now that you're here, I think it's time to discuss some recent changes to our situation." he said, finishing the sentence by giving a death glare to a certain General Khaniri Ndiema standing nearby.

Kugande pointed to a map on the table everyone looked at. "In the past two weeks the situation has changed dramatically. For better... and worse. We have taken territory back from the oriental PRM movement both in the north and south, not least in part thanks to assistance from our foreign mercenaries. Well worth the cost, I would say." Eric grinned. He had Kugande's political support. "For a more general overview, in the past week one of our enemies has had justice brought upon him. The brother of the Ma'athists leader Andrianasy Manelo was injured in a firefight and may not survive. To hell with him! I hope Andrianasy is next." This was met with some laughter from the generals, while Eric offered a polite chuckle. "They still have made some gains though."

Eric could feel the air tense up when Kugande said that. This wouldn't be fun. "I am told many things about what happened in the city of Amama days ago. I was informed that a force of Ygarthene commandos, in fact, flew into Amama with helicopters and a gunship backing them up and proceeded to make away with confidential information. While I doubt that Ygarthenes flew into Amama with a gunship, I do know for certain two things. One, someone who wasn't us or the Ma'athists was in that city. Secondly, a certain person responsible for the defense of Amama fled here three days prior to the city falling." The general from earlier, Khaniri Ndiema began shaking. Eric knew now that Kugande was going to be doing something about him. But what? "I am going to be blatant here. A situation, a infringement of this severity cannot be skirted around. It cannot be punished mercifully. Ndiema has failed me. Not just failed me, he has betrayed me. His actions make it clear he is nothing but a coward." Ndiema knew better than to attempt to argue. It would make his death sentence more painful. "You are going to be made an example of, Ndiema."

"My men will escort you out, and you will board a helicopter. The helicopter will head about thirty miles out into the ocean. Then, you will be confronted with a choice. The doors will be opened. You can either jump out, or stay and be flown back. If you jump out, and make it to shore alive somehow, I forgive you and you can live a comfortable retirement overseas. If you go back to shore inside the helicopter..." Kugande's voice turned to a loud whisper. "I will have you brought out into the street. You will be publicly tortured, and decapitated. And when your head's chopped off, my men will piss on your corpse. Because you are unworthy of any respect, whether in life of death. And in life, your actions made you appear as such. A shit-stain to be pissed on."

Two guards walked over and grabbed Ndiema, who calmly was walked off. Eric could see tears forming in the disgraced generals eyes as he was walked off though. Kugande looked to his remaining generals. "I hope the rest of you understand what the punishment for cowardice and betrayal is. Dismissed, except for Eric." The generals saluted, and then walked away. Kugande faced towards Eric. "That... is something I do not usually find myself saying. I try to make sure my commanders have at least some form of professionalism and courage. The facts however tell me that what happened in Amama was avoidable. Our situation here in Analamanga has improved, and my forces can defend here. I want you to redeploy your men to our territory near Dong. I plan on taking the town in a retaliation strike on the Ma'athists." Eric replied "That can be done. I'll get on it."

Near Dong, Govt. Territory
About four days later

While Kugande's men continued to make decent advances in the north, STA Consultation's mercenaries had redeployed by helicopter to a small stretch of a government-held enclave, all in between it and Analamanga being a few dozen miles of territory held by Ma'athist and PRM loyalists. If taking out those two pockets of resistance was STA's current objective, they would have been able to do so in a matter of days and allow for much easier resupply of Kugande's soldiers in Romor. However, Kugande had decided that he needed STA to attack the minor city of Dong and eliminate the first of two cities held by the Ma'athists in northwestern Imalakia, aside from the town of Mugande. The Mayor of Analamanga however had strings available to pull, and he saw no reason not to make the jobs of his mercenaries easier. Through the usage of a unreasonable amount of badly-needed funds, along with slight contributions from Eric, the Imalakian Military had purchased a brand-new FA553 Etoile off the production line. However, there was one condition. Since Kugande wasn't about to loose any more party favor than he already had in the past months, this was the only time he would finance the purchase of a helicopter for STA Consultations. If it got shot down, their problem. Considering that it cost about 13 million Entrecaseauxois comps to buy a single one, an unarmed one at that, as well as the reluctance of it's manufacturer Fabrication Aéronautique to sell them to non-state buyers, Eric understood how important this purchase was. He knew how important it was to utilize the helicopter effectively in war-torn, missile-abundant Imalakia also.

However, Eric was not familiar with these helicopters. He spent his military career as a commissioned officer who never set foot outside of a domestic military base in the city of Coelhorst, and never got to become familiar with this helicopter. One of STA's contractors, however, was a pilot who had flown the FA553. It was not a coincidence that Eric specifically requested that particular helicopter, he knew about the flying experience this guy had. The helicopter had been brought across the ocean to a temporary camp where STA's men had established themselves and Eric wanted to see what he could do with his investment.

Eric and said contractor met up at the part of the camp where the helicopter was at and discussed their gift from Kugande. "The FA553 is, honestly probably the helicopter I would have gone with if I had to be the one deciding what to buy. This model can carry up to twenty-nine troops in addition to the crew, and comes with these two machine gunsmounted on the left and right side of the chopper, as well as a 20mm cannon on the front. I know that this came with a system that included chaff and flares, but we haven't installed that yet." As the pilot rambled on, Eric's mind was more diverted towards the coming days and what would occur when the attack on Dong would take place. He didn't know if they any sort of anti-aircraft weaponry in that town.

Two nights later

Right now, this FA553 was probably the most inherently "superior" military helicopter in Imalakia that wasn't owned by the Ygarthenes. Ruthlessly ransacking Kugande's donations for funding, the helicopter had been upgraded to include features including a GPS system, new radios, a flight management system, flight data recorders, comparability with night-vision goggles and drink holders. For the last two hours,the helicopter had been shuttling contractors and Imalakian soldiers around the countryside in the middle of the night. At morning, they would begin the siege of Dong and begin cutting off any means of reinforcing the city. Under Kugande's orders, some troops who had been previously fighting elsewhere were shifted over to begin the process of pushing the Ma'athists out of the city - though perhaps to the detriment of other areas. A few artillery pieces were transferred over to begin shelling the city, which would arrive tomorrow afternoon or the day after that, if a forecasted storm came in.

by **Valefontaine** » Tue Mar 20, 2018 6:57 pm

Adapting to a quicker format. It’ll probably take a few posts for me to adjust. Any errors will be fixed later.

INTERMISSION - ARCADE
_VRcade
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/11/2018 - 2:14 PM VST}

The VRcade in Mieszko has various games that can be played through the Full Immersion Pods, which give the user an indepth virtual reality experience through sensory deprivation.
- Mieszko General Information Directory

Inside the virtual world, Bianka was immersed in a game of Warfare™ 4™[1]. Bullets were flying overhead as she sought cover behind the wreck of a destroyed EV-2[2] IFV.

The map in question was ‘Siege of Mieszko’ - an action-packed battle set in downtown Mieszko, with a fully destructible environment. They were up against players from across the globe, who were probably in similar VR arcades.

“What the fuck are you doing? Play the fucking obj—” A rather angry teammate’s voice was drowned out by the much louder sound of another teammate blasting ‘In the Air Tonight’ through his mic.

Bianka advanced forward with a rather ragtag bunch of other teammates - their player models were identical to their real life selves, even down to height. This was a feature of the Full Immersion Pods, which used a variety of sensors and cameras within the pod to recognize the user’s face.

The flag - a point of contention for both their team and the enemy team, was situated at the ruins of the Miderkont Building, which had been renamed to avoid copyright issues.

Seeking cover behind debris, Bianka waited for her moment. A teenager joined her, admiring the rather intricate, colorful pattern on his own rifle. It took him a moment to notice her.

“CAN YOU SEE ME? CAN YOU SEE ME?” His shouting into his mic made his voice nearly incomprehensible.

“What?”

“WATCH THIS CLUTCH.” He said, leaving cover and running off. The other players weren’t far behind, to which Bianka reluctantly followed.

The odd player Bianka had run into was seemingly quite proficient at the game, as he was killing the enemy team with ease, according to the killfeed.

Bianka herself was playing quite decently, perhaps moreso than her own teammates, as she gunned down groups of confused players speaking in foreign languages — this was a game played internationally, after all.

Sharply avoiding death in the game, she found cover in the ruins of the skyscraper. The player she’d nearly been killed by was approaching, and she could hear his footsteps quite well. Loading her rifle, she braced for the worst…

Surely enough, the player in question emerged from what’d once been a corridor in the building. She clamped down on the trigger, but the other player was quicker. The rifle in Bianka’s hands, which the game referred to as a Mk-97 for copyright reasons, broke into pieces. Bianka immediately ducked, having been lucky her opponent had aimed badly.

The footsteps grew nearer, until Bianka heard a loud, clamorous thud. Peeking from cover, she saw the strange player again, clutching a now-bloodied brick in his hand, repeatedly beating down the unfortunate REDFOR player.

“Disrespected, biTCH!” He exclaimed again as he spat on the player he’d just demolished, which caused Bianka to instinctually cover her ears - though that didn’t really do anything in the virtual world.

“Can you move your mic away from your mouth?!” Bianka called out.

“NO.” He took the dead player’s assault rifle and ran off, presumably to continue fighting.

She reluctantly followed behind, resorting to using her Abdikator pistol - again, copyright reasons. Surely this odd player was quite skilled, and it would be wise to follow him.

Atop a great pile of debris it stood: the flag, still contested. Slowly they began their ascent of the pile, fending off a few lower-level players.

“GET FUCKED.” The player had managed to disarm an enemy, pinning the unfortunate opponent to a wall and shooting them in the head — unusually brutal and well-trained for a player. He turned around, noticing Bianka was still around. “PICK UP THE GUN, FAGGOT.”

“O-okay…” She picked up the REDFOR assault rifle, which the game called an ‘M1988’ - something something copyright.

Another enemy emerged, armed with a shotgun. Immediately, Bianka’s odd ally picked up the corpse of his last kill, using it as a shield.

BOOM!

Surprisingly, it worked, though the force of the shot sent the player flying across the debris hill, landing roughly on the ground. “FUCKING AIM! AAAAAAAAAAA!!!” He called out, presumably to Bianka.

Bianka made quick work of the shotgun-toting enemy, a notification flashing on her HUD that she’d gotten extra points for a well-placed headshot. “There, I aimed. How long till this flag gets capped?”

“I DON’T KNOW. WHERE THE FUCK IS OUR TEAM?” Even whilst speaking calmly, his voice was… loud.

“Right here, you fucking bastard. Turn your fucking mic down or I’ll-” A higher-level player had seemingly gotten past the meat-grinder that was the areas adjacent to the flag, and clearly wasn’t pleased about how loud the odd fellow’s mic was.

“YOU’LL WHAT?” Without hesitation, he teamkilled and continued waiting for the flag. Surely enough, a blue flag gradually rose up, which seemingly led to an intensification of REDFOR advances.

“Ouch…” Bianka muttered.

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT.” He said. He took cover behind some overturned furniture to check the leaderboard, noting they were near the top. “YOU’RE DECENT, ACTUALLY! DAMN!”

“Uh, thanks.”

“HOLD UP. THEY’RE COMING.” He braced himself, peeking with his weapon aimed for one of several entrances. Bianka took cover too, peeking from a pillar.

Three enemies emerged, two of which had riot shields - forming a partial testudo formation. The third man seemed to be hiding behind the two.

Bianka’s rather loud friend emerged from cover, shooting at the shields - perhaps as a distraction. Immediately, the formation focused on him, giving Bianka a good shot. Before she could fire, however, the third enemy threw something at the player, setting off a detonator.

An explosion ensued - creating a spectacle of flames and pink blood (for censorship reasons) where Bianka’s teammate once stood.

Opening fire, she took the three REDFOR players down and hurried over to where he was. He’d been destroyed from the legs down, and was probably about to respawn. “YOU DID IT, BROTHER…”

“I’m a gi—”

“…YOU SURPASSED ME ON THE LEADERBOARD, BROTHER…” He coughed into his mic, perhaps to make his own death more dramatic.

“I guess I did.” Bianka laughed, occasionally checking if any more enemies were coming in.

“NOW GO! MAYBE ONE DAY… YOU WILL SEE ME AGAIN… FAREWELL BROTHER… VI VON ZULUL!” He pointed up, to which Bianka looked to see the blue flag had been raised. REDFOR tickets were now bleeding down. Their victory had been secured.

‘BLUFOR VICTORY’ appeared on Bianka’s HUD, and the camera immediately shifted into a cinematic POV. Lo-176 aircraft flew overhead, bombing enemy positions to smithereens. The leaderboard displayed ‘b1ko’ just above ‘eg0ism’, who had apparently been her odd teammate. The screen slowly faded, until a prompt appeared.

‘INSERT Ꮴ1 TO CONTINUE.’

Bianka selected the ‘exit’ option, as the fight had been oddly exhilarating… and tiring. The pod slowly opened, Bianka removing the VR headset and stepping out.

Walking nonchalantly past the lobby as she made her way out of the arcade, barely paying attention to the news broadcast on the TV.

“In an unprecedented maneuver, Imalakian forces affiliated with the Red Dragons have made a push through territories held by the local farmers and commenced a siege on the village of Ugu. This has led to allegations by Turmenistanian officials that the Orientalist paramilitary has seen a sudden influx of weapons supplied from foreign sources…”

INTERMISSION - SCENE
_Somewhere…
_{Trzenclaw, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/18/2018 - 10:45 AM VST}

The MvH were still on a wild goose chase after one of their own, Radomir Kaczka, had seemingly vanished on his quest to make it to the capital, Erebus. He wasn’t alone, of course, as indicated by the trail of mercenary corpses he’d left on his journey.

While the trail had, for a few days, run cold, the MvH had gotten another lead. A shootout at a diner, involving a man who most certainly didn’t miss his shots.

“Definitely our guy’s handiwork.” MvH special agent Luka Vernon knelt over, looking at the dead KODEK™[3] contractors laying about the tile flooring.

“He’s one crazy son of a bitch, ain’t he?” Luka’s assistant, a certain Karolina Simek, took note of how few bullets had struck anything in the diner besides the mercenaries themselves.

“One of our best.” He replied. “We gotta get him before these private guns do… and closin’ the roads ain’t an option. Publicity is the opposite of what we want.” With a gloved hand, Luka touched the blood pooled on the floor, taking note of how it was still fresh. “He ain’t gone far on his bike. I want the police to be on the lookout for a black Kobayashi™[8] BELLATOR™[9] motorcycle.”

“I’ll notify them accordingly.” Karolina replied.

“Oh, and…” Luka got up, throwing away his bloodstained glove. “I want that LAtR-13 team from last week here. They get the job done.”

“No can do, boss. They’re off in Minaczno, last I heard.” Karolina gestured some MvH agents inside to handle the bodies.

“And who ordered that?”

“The director. We’re prolly gonna have to settle for some men from the guard regiment.”

“Now tell me… what was important enough for the director himself to make such a… specific order?”

RAGE HARD
_{Minaczno Docks}
_{Minaczno, Free City of}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/18/2018 - 10:58 AM VST}

The hum of the Vi-27’s[4] rotors droned on as the team waited for the inevitable thud of the coming landing. The op was, so they’d been told, an illicit Vaalbarium shipment. Go in, clear it out, call it in. Simple as that.

“What’s the deal with the Imalakian terrorists anyway?” Niko was busy flipping through the pages of a lewd magazine dubiously titled CYMBELINE™. “I mean, they’re like, what… thousands of miles away from us? What do we have to do with them?”

“Our military power, combined with the fact we’re… somewhat aligned with Ygartha. Perhaps the terrorists want to keep us at bay, ensure we’re too busy at home to intervene in Imalakia.” Bianka shrugged. “Just a guess.”

“All the more reason to kick their asses.” Leonid chuckled, KM-61[5] in hand.

“Just how many men are we expecting to be defending this warehouse?” Adrienne questioned.

“It’s seen a lot of traffic in the past few weeks — so we might be walking into quite the party.” Bianka replied. Looking through the passenger door windows, she took note they were on the approach to their destination. “Here we go.”

The Vi-27 made its gradual descent to the docks, its landing gear deploying as it came down with a soft thud. Bianka swung the passenger door open, jumping down with the rest of her team in tow. It seemed local authorities were already here, in what could only be described as a siege of the warehouse in question.

They were immediately approached by a rather high ranking member of the Minaczno Police Department…

“You the ones the MvH sent?” He questioned, his voice a gruff tone from old age.

“Indeed we are.” Bianka nodded. “Sierzant Bianka Ziekowski, 4. Platun, 12. Falsczhirmkompania, LAtR-13, Ludzowe Armie. What’s the present situation?”

“Ah, you’re that one…” He muttered. “There’s a… worrying amount of terrorists trapped in that warehouse, armed to the teeth. They fled back inside after a short standoff with the police. Nobody got killed, thank God.”

“I assume there’s no legal trouble with what we’re about to do.” Bianka said.

“Of course not. I can get the General Proprietor[6] of Minaczno on the line, if you’re really worried about formalities.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Against the dying of the light
_{A certain warehouse}
_{Minaczno, Free City of}
_{11:20 AM VST}

The warehouse in question was larger than expected, with an adjacent office wing and living quarters. Bianka and her team were to breach and secure the office in order to cut off the living quarters from the warehouse, to which a specialized police unit would enter through the living quarters. From there, they’d just have to fight the terrorists remaining in the warehouse. Again, simple.

“Anything to say before we begin?” Bianka looked to her squad.

“Bet you Ꮴ150 we’ll be in Imalakia in a few months.” Leonid set a magnetic breaching device[7] on the door and stepped away, ready to activate it.

“Fair enough. Ready up…” Bianka put on a pair of AR goggles, which were powered by a battery cell in her backpack. In turn, the rest of the team put on theirs.

Through the HUD, Bianka could see some enemies that had already been marked by sharpshooters, drones, and police outside of the warehouse.

BOOM

It wasn’t an explosion, rather it was the sound of the metal door’s hinges shattering under the pressure of the device, which proceeded to send the door flying across the entry room of the offices.

Lobbing in a flashbang, Bianka waited for it to go off.

BOOM

One by one, they filed in, aiming at points of cover, doors, anything that could potentially hold an enemy combatant.

“Contact!” Adrienne exclaimed. An IAF terrorist was running across the room, presumably to get into better cover. Taking aim, she dealt with him accordingly, leaving his limp body lying face-first on the now-bloodied carpet flooring.

“UDE! UDE!”[8] The yells were coming from another enemy, who was using one of the office cubicles as cover. He attempted to take fire at Bianka, but was put down quickly by Leonid, 5.45x39mm shredding through his cover - the great spray of blood upon the cubicle was indication enough the terrorist was dead.

Only a few stragglers came forth after that, meeting an equally quick end as they did. It wasn’t long before Bianka called it…

“Clear.” She reached for her VN/N921 radio to call in the police units. “First floor of the offices are secure. You can commence.”

“So, Vaalbarium is kinda like yellowcake… right?” Adrienne asked.

“Whole lot more volatile.” Niko replied, checking a vacant cubicle for any survivors. “If they’re bringing it through our country, it only means they either intend to blow shit up here… or somewhere else.”

“You seem to know a lot about Vaalbarium, Niko.” Bianka said.

“I looked it up on WorldWideWiki. There’s one thing that’s been confusin’ me about all this, though…”

“Hm?” Bianka looked to her squadmate.

“Vaalbarium’s only found on the southernmost continent. Someone’s helping them get this shit around… but what do I know? I’m just a specops grunt.” He shrugged, though it was clear he was hinting at something in the greater scheme of things…

“So you think someone’s helping them?” Adrienne asked.

“Of course. But that’s a story for another time…” He lit his cigarette with a lighter disguised as a casette tape, smoking - much to the smoke alarm’s dismay, to which he put a bullet in the smoke detector.

They could hear gunshots in the adjacent annex — indication enough the police units were clearing out the living quarters.

“You two,” Bianka gestured to Leonid and Adrienne. “Keep watch on this floor. Niko, upstairs with me. Just to make sure there aren’t any terrs above.”

“Very well, sierzant.” Leonid nodded.

The two ventured upstairs, and just as expected, there were more enemy combatants.

“UD-” One of the terrorists found himself to be in a chokehold, someone else’s pistol aimed to his forehead. The other IAF members were caught by surprise at such a sight, and it cost them their lives, as Niko made quick work of the others.

Bianka rendered the man unconscious, leaving him on one of the office chairs.

“Leaving one alive, sierzant?” Niko asked.

“The MvH can interrogate him if they want. We’ll hand him over as soon as the cops are done clearing out living quarters.”

“Very well, very well…”

“Also, a word of advice.” Bianka’s tone got a bit more serious. “Fix your attitude, privat. If I don’t end up disciplining you, somebody else will.”

“Oh?” Niko smirked. “All due respect, sierzant… there’s a reason I was assigned to this team.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t worry about it, sierzant.”

“Something makes me think you know more than you let on.” Bianka glanced at Niko with suspicion.

“You’re probably right. But we should be downstairs, shouldn’t we? Unless you want them to get worried…”

“Fair enough.” Bianka carried the unconscious IAF fighter down with them, leaving him on a vacant chair while they waited for the police units to finish their job.

Surely enough, the Minaczno police did their job, the door to the living quarters opening, armed officers emerging.

“Guy over there’s for the MvH.” Bianka gestured to the Imalakian resting on the chair.

“Alright. We’ll be moving up with you into the warehouse, on your mark.” The leader of the police team gestured his men to cuff the Imalakian they’d captured, to which they soundly complied.

Living on the Ceiling
_{A certain warehouse}
_{Minaczno, Free City of}
_{11:45 AM VST}

After some preparation, they had received the order to breach the warehouse itself — an order which came directly from Erebus.

Bianka’s attention was entirely invested in the magnetic breaching device they’d planted on the door that led to the warehouse proper.

“Just give the call, sierzant.” Leonid was, like the rest of the squad — and the police teams that were present to assist, in position for their entry. With the ‘detonator’ to the device in hand, he merely waited for her call.

“Right. Let’s get this started.” Bianka raised her Kb-92 and braced for entry.

BOOM

The sound of the doors being ripped off their hinges was followed by a second blast — that of a flashbang being thrown into the warehouse.

Quickly enough, they filed in, guns blazing at the remaining terrorists. All seemed to be going well, until Bianka heard the sound of something hitting the floor. A grenade, and worryingly close to the Vaalbarium barrels situated at the center of the room.

Without hesitation, she sprung forth, kicking the grenade away from the barrels. Immediately she ducked behind one of the Vaalbarium containers, but she’d been too slow. A bullet tore into her backpack, striking the battery powering her AR goggles. A sharp jolt of electricity sent her to the ground, and everything faded to black.

Bianka was jolted back to consciousness by voices, distant at first.

“Sierzant!”

When she opened her eyes, Adrienne stood by her side, a look of relief washing across her face as she realized her superior was doing fine.

“Almost thought you were a goner there. You alright? Bleeding?” She asked.

“No… I don’t think.” Bianka got up, removing her now-useless AR goggles, and the backpack containing the destroyed battery. “You and the PD clear out the warehouse?”

“It’s over. All the terrorists are dead and—”

“And there’s not much Vaalbarium for a warehouse this big… something tells me we’re a bit late.” Niko interrupted, glancing at the meager 11 Vaalbarium barrels in the entirety of the warehouse.

“If they shipped it out a few weeks ago, it can’t possibly be far.” Leonid thought aloud.

“That’s the Ministry’s problem, not ours.” Bianka shrugged. “I’m calling it in.”

CONTEXT NOTES

1 - Warfare™ 4™ - A VRcade massive-multiplayer war game, with several maps set across various locations in Ausozera.

2 - EV-2 - A Valefontene army IFV. Check the ‘Ludzowe Armie’ WorldWideWiki page for more information.

3 - KODEK™ - Private security firm, essentially a Copeland sysCorp shell company - but with the company’s financial downturn, it’s uncertain who they answer to now.

4 - Vi-27 - The Vi-27 Frogfoot is a strange beast of a machine, most notable feature is its hydraulic leg-like landing gear. Can be seen on the Ludzowe Armie WorldWideWiki page.

5 - KM-61 - Standard-issue Ludzowe Armie GPMG.

6 - General Proprietor - The Free City of Minaczno is governed by the General Proprietor, who serves both as mayor and governor. This job was formerly called ‘Lord Proprietor’, but was renamed in 1926 following the January Revolution.

7 - magnetic breaching device - Used by some Valefontene special forces, the magnetic breaching device operates on the premise of magnets, making it much less loud than a standard explosive breaching device - and much safer. However, being magnetic in nature, it has various limitations of its own.

8 - Kobayashi™ - Portean automobile manufacturer. Their motorcycles in particular are quite popular in the VDR.

9 - BELLATOR™ - A motorcycle that just screams masculinity. Sleek, sharp design... great speed... truly a beauty.

by **Western Pacific Territories** » Sun Mar 25, 2018 4:03 pm

Outside Dong, Imalakia
Ma'athist Controlled Territory

To the dismay of the Imalakian forces and STA, the forecasted storm brewing north in Gilji had come directly over this area, and had in fact been much worse than originally predicted. The storm blew through Imalakia and dissolved near the north of the Oenosian States, but attack by conventional means was now impossible. Only a few paved roads were left, all of those being heavily guarded. The other dirt roads were washed away and now unusable. On top of that, now the supplies of the besiegers were under threat. The main supply route was out of service and a small contingent of Ma'athist defenders snuck out during the roaring storm in the middle of the night. Further investigation into this revealed two new issues. First off, the Ma'athists were somehow using a route to move supplies, men and casualties in and out which previously was thought impossible to use. Secondly, with another force of encircled Ma'athist shock troops about a day's walk from the city, there was worry that the escaped troops would send word to the separate force of Dong's situation - and that the force might attempt a breakout.

A war council had been called, and a decision was made. The encircled force was a secondary priority, and there was no way to be sure where those Ma'athists had fled the city to. The most logical option was that they were possibly deserting. The main issue was that until the route in the coastal jungles had been considered 'clear' or rendered ineffective, the siege of Dong was nothing but a waste of resources. A force of about twenty-five soldiers, primarily Imalakians were diverted to fly in with the only available helicopter to begin what was deemed Operation Musoma 3 and strangle the Ma'athist occupied city of Dong.

'The Bush', Western Imalakia
Disputed Territories near Dong

In what was otherwise seemingly peaceful, uninhabited jungle, the helicopter flew overhead, seeking a spot to land. At around 2 AM, in the middle of the night, about 25 troops of whom only 20% had ever operated NVG's before were now trying to figure out how it was that they were going to clear out a number of suspected sites around the area was something of a mystery. The team's commander was trying to figure out how his men were supposed to do this in near impossible circumstances. "How the hell are we expected to go clear out caves in these conditions? Maybe they wanted us to go look around in the morning...?" he exclaimed to himself, before the man next to him replied. "You know where Usoke is? Maybe we should drop right on top of it and try to secure it before the people there wake up." The hamlet of Usoke, one of the only inhabited places in this area from Dong to where the tight supply corridor opened into larger Ma'athist territory was likely a key part of the supply chain. The commander thought about it. "You know, that might be a pretty good idea. Think anyone's awake down there?" "I doubt it," the other man said.

"Sounds good enough to me. Change of plan then." the commander said, leaning up towards the pilots. "Hey, beeline it straight to Usoke. Put down in one of the nearby farmers fields, if we can deploy quickly we'll be able to take the village before they even wake up." The co-pilot nodded. "Understood, heading there now. Think we can test the guns there?" "Only after we begin the attack," said the commander. A twenty minute suspenseful ride passed afterwards, with soldiers planning out their means of attack and loading weapons. As the town came into sight,the helicopter took a sharp turn left to avoid coming so close that the soldiers would be awaken by it's noise. It maneuvered into one of the nearby rice fields, about a quarter mile from the village. For the purpose of speed, the helicopter however just a few feet above the ground, waiting as the soldiers inside quickly jumped out. Once the back was empty, it's pilots quickly took off and maneuvered to a higher altitude.

After grouping up into squads, the men jogged off to a dirt road leading into the village. As they began to do so, a couple of men started feeling hints of raindrops on their backs. "You gotta be shitting me," one soldier remarked. A drizzle began to form as they approached closer to the village. Once the houses were in sight, the column of infantry crouched, and formed to make their plan of attack. Some of the men dispersed into the surrounding bush, agreeing to not open fire until detected and to get as close as possible to the village. Minutes of agonizing silence followed as soldiers silently crept up to tired troops and killed them with knives. Sensing the town wouldn't be waking up, the commander decided to back off and order his men to pull back from the vicinity of the town. Civilians seem to have completely fled, knowing the fate that presumably would befall them, so military was the only thing here now. He concluded the best way to clear the town out and avoid casualties was blowing it up.

The helicopter came around, and with the pilots both wearing NVGs, the town's fate was sealed. Bursts of 20mm shells came out and flew into scattered houses, blowing those up with sleeping soldiers inside. The ones not killed by the first ones were certainly up now. Both of the gunners on the two machine guns lit up the dazed militia fleeing their beds as the helicopter turned and continue lighting up houses. Not 30 seconds had passed and already about a third of the village was in smoke, with the remaining thirds desperately thinking of a means to counter the helicopter. Tracer fire from AK-47s was met with 20mm shells and 7.62mm bullets, silencing opposition. While the helicopter continued wrecking the village, the mercenaries on the ground rushed in to mop up hiding combatants. But, these Ma'athists did have a counter-measure for the helicopter. A screeching sound went off in both pilots ears as they heard the warning alarm indicating that a infra-red missile had locked onto the helicopter. Flipping a switch on, the co-pilot activated an infra-red missile jammer and fired off a few 20mm rounds at the building he thought the launcher was located at. Alarm turned off. Now that Usoke was essentially clear of Ma'athist troops, the mercenaries went about securing it and then gathering information. An Imalakian soldier present noticed a few documents in the seat of a Jeep, and showed them to the commander. Turned out, they had showed up just in time to intercept a couple of trucks full of gasoline heading to Dong.

by **Anowa** » Sun Mar 25, 2018 4:44 pm

_{LCDR Ingrid "Grim" Grimsdottir}
_{CO of Anowan SPECTRA Team 3
Acting Commander of Anowan U-50 Forces in Turmenista}
_{Enfield, Arcadia Island}
_{Republic of Turmenista}
_{2/18/2018 - 2:53 PM TST}

"The road to power is paved with hypocrisy and casualties."

Sat phone calls were never something that Grim looked forward to. They usually involved mildly off the wall orders or requests to wait until someone higher on the chain gets out to your location physically. Leaning against a hangar, the officer reflected on the phone call she just finished. Her new orders were to assist the Turmenistanians in any event they needed her and her team in. At least until an actual Anowan force could arrive, if they would arrive. Until then, they were to be on high alert. As if they weren't already.

With a sigh, the lieutenant commander fished a pack of darts from one of the many pouches on her vest, plucking one of the cigarettes free, she set it between her lips, an electric lighter following suit. A deep inhale, and she already started feeling to likely detrimental effects of the narcotic. She'd been smoking for almost a dozen years at this point, ever since her service started[1]. She didn't smoke before that, was a complete teetotaler at that point still. But fighting insurgencies changed one's ideals and values.

Her team was currently in the Hangar, trying not to die of BDU induced heatstroke. While everyone in the Anowan military was thankful to have it, the Kite BDU[2] was not a light piece of kit. Nearly 30 pounds of ceramics, aluminum alloys, and kevlar, it's saving grace was the fact one could easily remove the plating so you wouldn't be weighed down by it all, nor become a heat casualty. But that took time, so you had to roll with a mix of protection and sustainability before heading out into an op. Given it was designed with the relatively cold temperate climate of Anowa in mind, it made some sense as to why it was so insulated. THough regardless of how weighted you were or how hot one was, she hadn't seen a single person forgo the helmet. AlON ceramics basically made it impervious to anything but a fifty... At least on paper, you'd probably still slip a disk or tear something if a fifty caught you in the pan, but you'd live, and that's what HighComm wanted above all else.

She shook her head, mind reeling back to the present, before she had diverted into an internal rant about her equipment. Her team. Best of the best, from every branch, from every state, and from every walk of life. They were her family, her only one, given how she was an orphan from birth. Holly, David, all of them, she'd die for them, and them for her. Even their families, Moses' wife, and Urban's kids, they were just one extended web of family. It's how their nation ran pretty much, community values and respect driven into their heads from an early age.

Turning, she started towards the hangar, it's massive doors only slightly ajar, within were the 2 CV-22Bs that Anowa had sent down for their part of U-50, their crews milling about and keeping busy, her 'family' huddled around an industrial fan, between them, playing liar's dice, or simply spectating. It wasn't much, but it was better than just sitting around and overheating. Rapping her fist on the hangar door, their heads turned up, Ingrid spoke[3] "Hey, I gotta go see Townsend, be back in a few." A chorus of affirmatives, followed, and as Ingrid stepped away, she plucked the cigarette from her mouth, squelching the embers against the plate on her shoulder. Before grabbing her helmet from it's place clipped to her hip, and slipped it over her head. They may have been in a Green Zone, but bad experiences in the past, as well as the insistence of her drill sergeant, had made sure that the woman never made it twenty feet from her bed without her helmet.

Ingrid realized just how badly she stuck out from the locals. She was by no means average even among her own people, standing a good five inches or so over them[4]. But here, she was standing head and shoulders over most. Not to mention the fact she was in full battle rattle, and was one of the very few people on base to be toting their primary -though against everything her training told her, in an unloaded state- a AU-68B[5] and secondary -in a similar state of Condition 4- a much less intimidating HK45T.

As she walked into the TOC, she felt a bit overdressed, but not at all self conscious about it, at least it was air conditioned. The question of, how the other two sects of U-50 were to respond, and their status came to mind. Her eyes spotting the silhouette of Major Townsend. Major. It was a rank that didn't exist in Anowa's vernacular, it's equivalent being her own rank, Lieutenant Commander. So technically speaking she didn't have to salute... and she didn't, "Major Townsend. Any idea on how the other teams are doing?"

[1] Anowan Mandatory Service - Anowa has followed a rather unique conscription system for nearly 300 years, Conscription starts at 16, after graduation, in which students then proceed into either a reservist role to maintain a civilian work sector, active service roles, or enter a post-secondary education where they will qualify for either Officer's School, or Reservist Officer's School. The average age in which officers become a part of the active services is 19.

[2] Kite BDU - Anowa's standard issue personal protective gear, consisting of modular full body extremity plating and Kevlar layering to provide as much survivability as possible. Known affectionately as 'The Boiler Suit' among troops that wear it, most plating is occasionally removed to void most fatigue.

[3] Anowan Language - With an amalgamation of cultures based on Greek, Icelandic, and Inuit societies, langauges across Anowa vary greatly and cause a plethora of communications isses. As such a constructed language much like Ido or Esperanto was created to help bridge the gap between the various languages. Due to certain occupations requiring it, most within Anowa are Trilingual at the least.

[4] Average height in Anowa = M: 6'3, F: 5'10

[5]AU-68B - Standard issue rifle for the Anowan Armed forces, Visually similar to the IRL F2000. Contains a G36KV style carry handle and rail, AR-15 style bolt hold open, hammer forged barrel, bayonet mount, flank and underbarrel rails. Feeds 8.6x55mm, from 30 round box magazines and 60 round casket magazines.

by **The Enclave Government** » Sun Mar 25, 2018 7:12 pm

Back down the rabbithole.....

Edward awoke from his sleep unnerved. He'd had the dream again. The dream of a burning Asiatic city from the point of view of a man eerily physically similar to himself. Each night, the dreams got more indepth... and more abstract. No matter. Edward resolved to ask his Doctor for sleeping pills once he returned from the Trek.

Ah yes, the Trek. The Trek Edward was scheduled to begin in less than six hours. Edward had personally bankrolled the 'public' effort to roll back poaching restrictions in Parliament. Long a gun enthusiast, the man desired little more than entertainment and power. Short of blood sport of humans, the hunting of animals was the closest Edward's hedonistic dreams would grasp reality. Edward's Trek into the Black Jungle was merely the first stop on a tour of Ophirian nature preserves, with the second leg finding the party in Turmenista. The goal of this Trek was to bring back a head to mount on his wall more impressive than any other - that of the Turmenistan sloth.

A sloth only in name, these lumbering beasts native to the backward nation were true titans of nature. Twenty feet tall and two tons in weight, these sloths were the titanic apex predators of Ophir before humankind laid claim to the continent. Now preserved as one of the last remaining megafauna in Turmenistan nature preserves, the sloth was the only beast man hadn't turned into a sport. These mammoths haven't been hunted or poached since before the conservation movement came into force in the 19th and 20th centuries. No man alive has skinned one of them.

But that was rather putting the cart before the horse. It would be rather unwise of Edward to rush headstrong into the only beast man hasn't tamed. A challenge more... closer to home was suitably appropriate for the first leg of the Trek. The Black Jungle. The Jungle, so dense and impregnable no nation had even bothered to claim it, was a massive valley of the Black Mountains. Teeming with wildlife, rivers, and insects, the Black Jungle would be a test of grit, a test of endurance, and a vindication for a city boy with money to blow.

The Party, as it was, was four childhood friends of Edward. Growing together in rather preppy circumstances, their bonds were forged in the crucible of teenage scorn of the lower class. Dylan, a scruffy bastard whose parents crawled their way out of Blachia into Alexandrian high society. Joseph, a sophisticated man with an unsophisticated southern drawl. Sierra, a cold-hearted witch that felt right at home in the merry band of hedonists. Lastly, Jakob. A teeny bit of an outcast included mostly for the mere fact that it's better to be on the right side of a scary man than on the wrong side of one.

And thus, this merry band set off into the Heart of Darkness.....

by **Valefontaine** » Tue Mar 27, 2018 10:10 am

No longer working at a snail’s pace, expect errors

DEMISE
_{Black Forest}
_{Erebus Outskirts, Vaal}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/25/2018 - 12:57 PM VST}

Outside of Erebus lays the Black Forest, which hosts some of Valefontaine’s more endangered wildlife.
- Erebus General Information Directory

Although the forest below extended for miles upon miles, the distant lights of Erebus could be seen as the Vi-44 helicopter descended upon a clearing.

“CCTV cameras witnessed a motorcycle matching the description of our HVT crashing not far from here. Said vehicle was also being tailed by several black SUVs, so there’s a possibility it’s not clear. Keep your head up.” Bianka ordered.

There came a soft thud as the helicopter landed in the clearing, doors swinging open and the four-soldier team dismounting. Once all had been cleared, the helicopter took off, leaving them to the mission at hand.

“Sierzant… why didn’t the man just… go to the capital by helicopter? Find a MvH safehouse or somethin’ … local PD…” Niko asked, suspicious of the entire point of this wild goose chase.

“They say he was… a pretty paranoid person. Didn’t trust anyone.” Bianka replied. “I don’t know, seems pretty fucking stupid to me too.”

Leaving the forest clearing, they continued, weapons at the ready. They’d gotten quiet already, Bianka half-expecting an ambush from KODEK™ mercenaries.

In a moment, they saw it, resting at the edge of the treeline, just by the road. A rather expensive motorcycle, now hardly recognizable, disfigured in what had clearly been a horrific crash. The vehicle was smashed against a tree, and the body wasn’t far.

Kaczka lay in the mud, an empty gaze staring upward into the tree canopy above. Judging by the scene, he hadn’t been dead for long — rigor mortis hadn’t even set in yet.

“This our guy?” Leonid asked.

Bianka, however, was too busy taking a closer look at the corpse. Blood stained his white suit and the polo shirt beneath, presumably the result of internal hemmorhaging from the crash, or from gunshot wounds. Mud was also spread across his clothes and face, which would be something one could expect from one who’d just been in such a freak accident. Something seemed… off, however.

“Sierzant?” Leonid leaned in, curious as to what could’ve possibly gotten the squad leader’s attention.

“The body. He wasn’t in this position when he died, look at the indentations in the mud. Our man landed face-down at first, then was flipped over… presumably by the perpetrators.” Bianka explained.

“You a crime scene investigator now, sierzant?” Adrienne joked, still giving the occasional cautious glance around for any potential ambush.

“Intuition.” Bianka replied, slipping on a pair of combat gloves. Kneeling down, she flipped the body over, taking note of the bloodstains across the back of Kaczka’s suit. “Judging by all the blood, these were either the shots that killed him — or he was bleeding out by the time of the crash.”

“Something’s off about his back.” Niko pointed out, gesturing to an odd crease in the suit — as if something were being concealed underneath.

Bianka seemed to notice something out of place — perhaps something the killer failed to notice. It appeared as though something were tucked under his coat, something… rectangular. Nervously, she reached under Kaczka’s suit, to grab whatever he’d tucked inside before his untimely demise.

It was a diary, albeit bloodstained and partly damaged by a bullet that had passed through. Perhaps the mercenaries had failed to notice it when they flipped his body over?

“Some kind of notebook. I wonder if he left behind a message.” Adrienne thought aloud.

“Shame we didn’t run into whoever killed him.” Niko chuckled.

Bianka’s mind, however, was focused on something else — the flashdrives clearly weren’t anywhere in sight, on or near the body. The flashdrives he was carrying, the reason they were after him… certainly the men in question couldn’t be far? Regardless, it wasn’t their problem. With the scene clear, it’d be safe to call it in.

Curiosity overtook Bianka, however, as she took a moment to skim through the diary. Most of it was incoherent, paranoid ravings of a man on the run… but the last written page got her attention.

2/22/2018

I cannot, with certainty, say that I will complete my journey. Neither the Ministry nor the police could help, even if they knew. The attack is coming, and it’s inevitable. I’ve looked through the files. The Queen of Spades is much more important than I previously believed. It has to do with the Dreamraker Project, which I previously believed to be the stuff of rumors. Tulpas, doppelgängers within the mind… the splitting of the mind into a bicameral state… it is of the greatest intrigue to me. And yet I have no time left. My ammunition runs low, and I have nobody left to trust. I cannot say for sure that the MvH won’t terminate me for these feats.

Dreamraker Project? Bianka felt an odd chill run down her back, as though she’d stumbled upon something she wasn’t allowed to see. Quickly, she closed the diary shut.

“Sierzant? Quite sure it’s clear.” Niko said, almost curious at Bianka’s odd reaction to the diary.

“Call it in.” She ordered. “I’m sure the mercs couldn’t have gotten far, either.”

BOARDING PARTY
_{S.S. Grant}
_{Grey Sea}
_{VDR Territorial Waters}
_{2/25/2018 - 9:10 PM VST}

A small inflatable raft moved onward, chasing a set of lights off in the distance. Though the waves were tumultuous at this hour, it didn’t dissuade the crew of the raft.

“Just up ahead!” Vipr exclaimed. “Large yacht, looks to be 450 feet in length… this is the one.”

“Who’d keep smuggled Vaalbarium on a 450 foot yacht?” Gryf questioned, watching the ship ahead through his AR goggles.

“Clearly someone who got rich doin’ what he does best…” Zolík was busy cleaning his Kb-92 assault rifle as he waited.

The lights of the ship gradually became brighter - and closer, as they drew near. They soon found themselves beside the vessel’s starboard side, to which they launched grappling hooks.

Carefully, they ascended the side of the vessel — the men were fully aware of where the enemies were and were not, as a nearby vessel had spotted and tracked the men present on deck, enemies which they could see on their HUDs.

One by one, they boarded the vessel, weapons aimed at opposite sides. One of the red blips on the HUD was approaching, presumably a routine patrol…

Gryf did not hesitate to put down the unsuspecting man, who promptly hit the ground with an ungraceful thud.

Other red blips had heard the sound, and were making their approach. At such a point, a firefight was inevitable.

The three men made quick work of the four approaching guards — but one, perhaps in his throes of death, had managed to clamp down on the trigger, his Varennikov™ assault rifle firing into the air with thunderous… applause, as he fell limp.

It wouldn’t take long for the alarms to go off, but by then they’d already entered the vessel, guns blazing off on the confused, sleep-deprived crew.

The fight to the cargo hold was an arduous one, but soon they stood before it. Dozens of airtight Vaalbarium barrels stacked neatly about — but clearly some had been relocated, and the culprit was within view.

A helicopter awaited on the cargo elevator, gradually being lifted to the upper decks. Shooting at it was pointless, so once again they had to make a run upstairs.

“VFS Tor, I’m going to need your SAMs to fire at this helicopter once it takes off.” Vipr ordered, looking to the set of lights in the horizon — the destroyer in question.

“Vaalbarium is a dangerous substance. Causing such a reaction would jeopardize the miss—”

“Shoot the damn helicopter down!”

The silence on the other end was either of contempt or compliance… as the helicopter took off, gradually distancing itself from the yacht, a missile careened into its side, the helicopter spinning out and exploding into a bright blue flash.

The vessel shook violently as the shockwave struck, perhaps indicating that if the helicopter had been any closer… the yacht would’ve capsized.

“So that’s the power of Vaalbarium?” Zolík looked to the diminishing, fluorescent dust cloud ahead of the yacht.

“Now, imagine what would happen if such a substance went off in a major urban center… complete and utter chaos.” Gryf noted. “There’s probably enough Vaalbarium in this ship to flatten my hometown.”

“Vessel is clear… our job here is done.” Vipr said into his radio. The cleanup work would be a job for the Ludzowe Flot.[1]

QUEEN OF SPADES
_{Redwood Lodge}
_{Somewhere in Valefontaine}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{2/27/2018 - 9:00 PM VST}

Behind the seclusion of closed doors, somewhere unknown to the rest of the world… the meeting began.

“The Queen of Spades was involved in the dilemma.” Goettczheld began.

“Dilemma?” The man in the red porcelain mask replied.

“The Jet dilemma, of course. This hadn’t been apparent to us until our… friends in KODEK™ finally put down that Kaczka fellow.” Goettczheld paused for a moment, his own porcelain mask concealing a smile. “She was the one that did the NEC upload, she was in communications with Jet… whether or not she knew much, that’s up to debate… but she worked into our plan perfectly.”

“So? Why does it concern us?” The young man in the electronic ‘smiley’ mask questioned in his typical informal fashion.

“The Dreamraker Project. That becomes important later… it relates to our plans in Euphemie.”[2]

SPRINGTIME BLISS
_{Mieszko Historic Center}
_{Mieszko, Soren}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{3/1/2018 - 4:53 PM VST}

Amid the stress of the past few days — primarily work related, of course, Bianka had resolved to go with Maltt to the historic center to chat and see some new sights.

Though the skyline of downtown Mieszko towered above not far away, the historic center felt like a different world compared to the rest of the city.

“Quite different from most of the city.” Maltt took note of all the other couples going about their ways in the historic center, along the sidewalk, crossing the cobblestone streets…

“Indeed it is!” She grinned, perhaps a bit nervous in the moment. “I used to go here all the time. Lots of nice restaurants here… Republic Square ain’t far either.”

“Used to? What happened to that?”

“Life happened. Got places to be, not enough time… surely you get what I mean.”

“Of course.”

Republic Square was the centerpiece of the historic area of Mieszko, statues of the martyrs of the revolution standing atop a pedestal.

THEY TOILED
THAT WE MAY DREAM

“I believe not taking a picture together would be a… wasted opportunity.” Maltt said.

Bianka took her uPhone™ out, posing beside Maltt as she snapped a picture.

“Hmm…” She paused before posting it to her Capchat story. “We could have dinner out someplace around here…” Bianka proposed.

“Sure thing.” Maltt hesitated, looking around before he continued. “You know–”

In that moment, it felt as though the entire world shook before them, a blinding blue flash erupting not far from them — just a few city blocks away.

“Get down!” She screamed.

“What in the goddamn—”

Bianka and Maltt ducked as the shockwave erupted through the historic center, shredding through the centuries-old buildings.

Looking on at the source of the blast, Bianka could only see a dust cloud rising in the distance. She’d heard of it before, she’d handled the material before in operations — it was unmistakably a Vaalbarium explosion, and a big one at that.

“…my God…” Maltt looked on at the horrific scene, awestruck at the sight.

“We— we need to move. Like… get out of here.” Bianka rose to her feet, helping Maltt get back up, and soon the two began to run — in no direction in particular, to get away from the origin of the explosion.

The streets were filled with the sounds of screams and shouts, confused and weary crowds fleeing the chaos a few blocks away. These screams were gradually drowned out by the sirens of police and fire department vehicles, rendering a cacophony of terror throughout downtown Mieszko.

Their run had felt like it’d lasted an hour — maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. They were at the National Economic Center, and it seemed they weren’t the only ones who’d gotten such an idea, as other groups of weary people sat about, exhausted from what’d occurred.

Passing by the ‘PEACE IN AUSOZERA’ sign[3], Bianka sat down before the NEC plaza’s globe fountain[4], both exhausted and weakened by the horrific experience. Resting her head on her knees, she could only imagine what’d be before her now. This was no accident — she was that certain, and whoever had been responsible for this had just conducted an act of war.

“Biko?” Maltt was at one of the fountain’s benches, still trying to process what’d just occurred earlier.

“This wasn’t an accident…” She muttered, perhaps cryptically to him. “This was a declaration of war.”

HE BOUGHT?
_{CDI Building}
_{Lee, District of Ophir}
_{Federal States of Euphemie}
_{3/1/2018 - 5:19 PM EST}

Behind the closed doors of the Central Directorate of Intelligence[5], numerous floors belowground, things were busy as ever.

Like most offices in the lower levels, the office of Martin E. Hoover had a simple varnished wooden door, adorned with a simple golden plate at its center, reading simply:

MARTIN E. HOOVER
SUBDIRECTOR - CLANDESTINE AFFAIRS
CENTRAL DIRECTORATE OF INTELLIGENCE

The sound of a phone ringing came to a halt as Hoover answered the call with a sterile gloved hand — he obsessed with hygiene, and lived accordingly.

“Yes?” He asked, indicating he knew his caller.

“They did it.” A voice answered on the other end.

“The bombing?”

“Civilian casualties estimated at a bit more than two-hundred…” There was a pause. “...surely this will agitate a Continental System military intervention in Ophir.”

“Indeed, indeed. At every side we are beset with dangers to our nation. Turmenista, Tangaliro, the northerners who intervene in our continent’s affairs… we will be able to bog them down.” Hoover smirked. “Greenlight the sales of MANPADS to the IAF.”

“Shall we contact President Fern yet, Subdirector?”

“No… not yet.”

CONTEXT NOTES

1 - Ludzowe Flot - The navy of the VDR. One of the more potent naval powers of Ausozera.

2 - Euphemie - The Federal States of Euphemie stands defiant of the present world order. Though opposed to the foreign imperialism that besets Ophir, it refuses alignment with the Continental System.

Led by the charismatic, determined President George Fern, the nation has been revolutionized by the concept of Fernomics, which many call “Foodoo Economics” … yet despite its status as a military, political, industrial and economic powerhouse, it is a rotting structure.

Mass poverty, racial division and a skyrocketing debt threaten the defiant state, though opposition has had little chance to voice itself due to the ambitious COUNTERINTELPRO program headed by the nation’s federal police jurisdiction (and secret police force), the Internal Security Agency, which targets opposition leaders among minority communities.

The nation is also beset by an opioid epidemic of apocalyptic proportions, which primarily affect its minority communities.

Despite all these problems, it stands as a lone wolf in Ophir, defiant of the external political orders. Its navy is one of the few that still adhere to the Johanian doctrine, with a powerful fleet headed by six nuclear-powered battleships and three carriers (numerology plays a significant role in Euphemian military planning) — this lavish military budget is also believed to be partly to blame for the rampant poverty in the FSE.

3 - ‘PEACE IN AUSOZERA’ sign - The slogan ‘PEACE IN AUSOZERA’ was added shortly after the Auburn Summer, out of respect of protesters that had been killed in the early stages of the demonstrations. Now it stands as a testament to Valefontaine’s ambitions and foreign policies…

4 - NEC plaza’s globe fountain - The National Economic Center’s plaza is decorated by a golden fountain, depicting a highly-detailed globe of Ausozera.

5 - Central Directorate of Intelligence - The external intelligence agency of the FSE, the CDI is known both within the FSE and beyond as men of pure evil, beholden to nothing but machiavellian desire. They stop at nothing to achieve their ambitions, which are known to nobody but their highest officials. Their agents are commonly referred to as the ‘Men in Black’ …

by **Turmenista** » Wed Mar 28, 2018 4:56 am

AAR

__________________________________
_{Evans Air Station TOC}
_{Enfield, Arcadia Island}
_{Republic of Turmenista}
_{2/18/2018 - 2:54 PM TST}

Just another day in the bush.

- Anonymous Duirel operator

"So far its just one angry email from Louisa[1], absolutely 0% media coverage," Townsend mused to himself, observing the AI news report on one of the TOC's massive monitors. Good. Things had gone exactly according to plan.

He stood, slightly leaned forward yet relaxed on a catwalk above the TOC's huge MCC, or mission control center. Desks manned by expedient BDU[2]-toting TAFOR-AF[3] soldiers with headsets filled the lower floor, and each and every man or woman working at their station was either blasting through tasks like a caffeine-spiked college scholar or talking to active troops deployed all throughout Turmenista. The only thing keeping everyone in the building from getting heatstroke were the ceiling fans and air conditioning, though at some times it seemed as if the TOC could only sustain one at a time.

This was also probably due to the massive server room that was practically protected in a bunker underneath them, but that was a furnace compared to the upper floors. Besides, the troops had grown accustomed to the heat, and AC was something tourists liked, not soldiers. Either way, Evans Air Station probably would be receiving a lot more AC units in the next couple of weeks. Allied troops from the VDR, Anowa, and Vacif practically depended on the air conditioning to keep from getting exhausted, and AC as it came now was practically a blessing.

Townsend couldn't really blame them, though. On this side of the equator there were basically only two seasons: the hot as fuck season and the rainy and hot as fuck season, and at times it seemed the two were interchangeable with one another. The entire continent of Ophir was hard enough on foreign troops, but at least they had helicopters.

His eyes were on the MCC's map, which was being updated live with the position of several TAFOR, allied and CS troops in Turmenista or at the northern border, near either Euphemie or Imalakia. Every couple of minutes or so the map would update itself, and a picture of a jet somewhere around Biko would be updated to fly above Louisa for a bit.

It was an expwnsive system, yes, but still very useful. Then it got him thinking: Where the hell was U-50[4] in all this? At least, the guys from Vacif and the Duirel boys.

His question was prematurely answered when Lieutenant Commander Ingrid Grimsdottir strode in, a giant among the rest of the Turmenistanians in the room, save for a few. She just strolled right into the TOC wearing full combat gear, as if she had just stepped off a helicopter into hostile territory moments ago, but he was in no position to ask the red-haired Valkyrie any questions right now. After all, she looked like she could majorly fuck him up in a fistfight if she had he chance, like she chugged 'roids on a daily basis. Likewise, they were the same rank, but that only reassured him slightly.

They didn't need to salute each other given their equivalent ranks, but she still carried herself with enough dignity worthy of a salute. When she inquired about the status of the Turmenistanian and Vacif teams of U-50, he nodded.

"No idea where the guys from Vacif are, they may be late. What I do know is that my Commando boys are here, save for their CO, Xori. Technically, I'm not supposed to tell you where he is or what he's doing, but that's aside from the point. My Air Assault and SDU[5] guys are here too, and the boys from Duirel[6] are here, probably at the range."

CONTEXT NOTES

- Louisa is the capital of Turmenista and its second largest city. The Kubwa River also runs through its center. It's noteworthy for its large amount of schools, government buildings, and embassies, especially those to the CS, Vacif, Anowa, and other nations. The city's origins can be traced back to a settlement made by nineteenth-century white Turmenistanian (Stanish) people, who created it as a place where whites and blacks could live in peace with each other. To this day, it still has a classical aesthetic to it.
- TAFOR soldiers wear a BDU, or battle dress uniform, respective to which branch they are serving in. The BDU comes in a long sleeved and short sleeved variant. The TAFOR's default BDU is painted in dark brushstroke, used to blend in very well with the woods and jungles of Southern Ophir and provide ample defense on the vast deserts and savannas.
- Turmenistanian Armed Forces Air Force, or simply shortened to the Turmenistanian Air Force. The primary airborne branch of TAFOR comprised of most fixed-wing pilots, a few dedicated helicopter pilots, drone operators, and the airborne-based shock trooper battalion, the Air Assault, another special forces group alongside the SDU and Commandos.
- U-50 is a joint special operations group comprising of Special Forces Troops from Anowa, Vacif, and Turmenista. Most of its missions are counter-terrorism in nature, though a few engage in direct combat at times.
- SDU, or Special Duties Unit, is the dedicated special forces group of the TAFOR-NAV, or Turmenistanian Navy. Most of its missions deal with the sabotage of enemy naval assets, marine activities, riverine activities, HALO jumps, or other covert operations, and its skill in reconnaissance is second only to the Commandos.
Duirel is a paramilitary group that evolved from the Poacher Patrol, the Kawanahi national park's privately-hired security group. Duirel acts as a government-sponsored paramilitary group which protects and enforces conservation of endangered or threatened Turmenistanian wildlife. Due to its heavily airmobile nature and a few of its operators being former military specialists, Duirel has become a formidable threat to poachers, insurgents, and terrorists alike due to its rough riding and brutal nature. Analagous to Koevoet IRL.

by **Western Pacific Territories** » Fri Mar 30, 2018 11:25 am

Analamanga, Imalakia
Government Capital

The loud buzzing sound of his cell-phone woke Eric up from his sleep. "What time is it..." he wondered. Moving his head, the bright light of the TV blinded his eyes for a moment, before he squinted at the alarm clock next to him. "Four A-M? God damnit..." he muttered, turning to pick up the ringing cell phone. "Who is this." he said to the caller. It was Kugande. "Listen - I need you at the Palace urgently. I don't care how tired you are, just get over here. I think you're going to want to hear this." Eric answered back "Can you tell me now?". Kugande fired back "Two things. One, I'm giving a speech today. Very important speech. If you would hurry up you'll see why.". Eric leaned up from his position on the bed. "Guess I'll see you..."

Half an hour later, Eric shoved open a door in one of the National Palace's hallways to see a mounted TV screen on the wall, one which Kugande and some aides were staring intently at. "Why did you ask for me?" Kugande glanced back. "Hey, rewind it," he said to one of his assistants. "Watch this news report." Eric stared at the screen, wondering what Kugande was going to show. The screen showed a newswoman talking about something regarding Valefontaine. "Earlier today, the largest city of the VDR, Mieszko was shocked by a large explosion. Authorities report at least two hundred killed in a terrorist attack..." Eric focused his attention away from the screen and towards Kugande. "Unfortunate, but why are you showing me this?" he asked. "Keep listening," Kugande hissed. "... shortly after the attack, leader of the Imala Action Front, Dr. Adrianasy Manelo claimed responsibility for the attack, and demanded that Valefontaine troops withdraw from..." Eric looked over at Kugande, who had formed a grin.

Kugande started talking. "I know, you must be surprised. He has no idea what he has done, has he?" Eric offered a rare protest. "I don't get what's going on. Why would he do this? Why, blow up a few hundred people across the globe!? It doesn't make sense-" Kugande interjected with a "Shh." He coughed and continued. "Why, I do not care." Eric continued anyways. "This is something else entirely! Forgive me for being rude, but thousands of dead Imalas is one thing. Hundreds of Ashai citizens killed, thousands injured? That is something else entirely. " The President thought for a moment, while his aides stood around silently. "We do have a motive though in fact." Kugande said. "He wanted the entire Valefontaine military out of Turmenista. He thought the best way to do that was to turn the center of their capital to rubble. He was wrong, and now he will sow the rewards. Their president has said that he will give his upmost support to my regime, and that he will not stop until the Doctor" [Adrianasy Manelo] "and his lapdogs have been thrown out of my country." He adjusted his position slightly and talked further. "Manelo had made his move, and it will be the end of him. I will make my move, and I shall succeed." The president walked with Eric out into the hallway.

"Soon I will begin rallying the people to the cause of unifying Imalakia. I will encourage them to take up arms as soldiers of the nation,and Imalakia will see piece. The righteous will receive their reward, brother!" Eric couldn't help a smile. "I'd save the eloquent talk for when you're on the podium." "Perhaps I should," Kugande said. "I must take my leave."

Analamanga, Imalakia
Ony Square, Capital

Eric couldn't help but feel the large crowd of people in the heat becoming more and more riled up as the President continued, speaking of how foreigners other than Ygartha would help his armies and the people put an end to the 'brother wars', as he termed them. Of course, he knew that it wouldn't be so much like that. What would probably happen, Eric was beginning to feel, was that Valefontaine and the Continental System was going to ravage most of Imalakia rooting out Ma'athist supporters, and Kugandes armies were going to be supporting them - not like the other way around, as Kugande claimed. Eric couldn't help but feel that Kugande had to have known what recent news meant - surely he didn't believe that Valefontaine was going to make everything better so simply, right? In the end, what did it matter to Eric though? Though Kugande and at times, Eric himself had lost track of it, his men were helping the President out because the President had alot of cash on him and because this was an excellent means of growing his PMC. At some point in the near future, another war would break out, a more lucrative one. He would aim for that.

Near Analamanga
PRM Territory

Whatever Kugande had said in the last day or so, it really did rile up the people of Imalakia. Kugande had for all intents and purposes basically stated that anyone who wanted to secure the righteous government from it's political and ideological opponents would be given guns and free transport to the front lines. Many, almost all young poor males, took up the offer to head to the conflict zone south of Analamanga and within hours were ready to fight. Last night, they had been organized into platoons, companies and so forth with the final tally of over a thousand men having joined. The army's commanders were smart enough to know that these troops were basically cannon fodder, if they were lucky. But, these men had come to fight, and if it meant rest for the regular troops... why not send them to fight? They had been sent to go capture a couple of villages held by the PRM...

They however had been met with heavy fire from it's small number of defenders, and while the village was taken by the government, about two hundred of the fodder had died. This was met with not much in the way of worry. Some of the more cold-hearted leaders really did not have much to care about how many of the civilians turned fighters died. What they did care about was that soon they would be able to send reinforcements to Romor and Dong. It would mean a respite for the men battling there.

by **Valefontaine** » Sun Apr 01, 2018 2:16 am

OPERATION KALAHARI
_{Near Gondo}
_{Turmenistanian Border Region}
_{Imalakian State}
_{3/26/2018 - 7:45 AM IST}

And I saw when the Lamb opened one of the seals, and I heard, as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying, Come and see.

And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer.
- Book of Revelations

It had been a long three weeks since Bianka had narrowly avoided death during the process of the Vaalbarium attack that’d stricken Mieszko — it’d since become known as the March 1st Bombing.

In hindsight, it felt as though everything happened in a flash. A run-in with a certain FIA agent[a], being reassigned to Ophir, and having to part ways with Maltt… she’d left him with the apartment while she was gone.

Load More Messages…
mogg - Today at 7:31 AM
idk ruru quit going into a life destroying spiral of waking at 1 am and go outside for once
IronContact - Today at 7:31 AM
sup biko
b1ko - Today at 7:32 AM
Sup
my cell service probably wont last long
idk
Ruru♡ - Today at 7:32 AM
…
IronContact - Today at 7:32 AM
i feel u bro LOL
good luck out there
Valefontaine is strong
willing enough to wage war against the ma’athists whom it considers evil
xans - Today at 7:32 AM

Ruru♡ - Today at 7:32 AM
yeah okay
b1ko - Today at 7:33 AM
Thanks bro
Ruru♡ - Today at 7:33 AM
i didn't need to take that, s
so*
mogg - Today at 7:33 AM
@mombongo_k get on C5 siege you incompetent bastard
IronContact - Today at 7:33 AM

Ruru♡ - Today at 7:33 AM
I'm just licking my wounds after maltt cut me deep
mogg - Today at 7:34 AM

Ruru♡ - Today at 7:35 AM
Sigh
Fuck yourself Maltt
xans - Today at 7:36 AM
what even happened
Ruru♡ - Today at 7:36 AM
Think I'm just
Gonna fuckoff from this chatroom for awhile
Go do something else for a week or two
xans - Today at 7:36 AM
has maltt really insulted you that much
Ruru♡ - Today at 7:37 AM
I already put the server on mute, blocked him, and removed him on spark
I don't have to take that
mombongo_k - Today at 7:37 AM
your breakdowns really are counter intuitive
Ruru♡ - Today at 7:38 AM
I literally don't
So you guys do you
Ruru♡ has left the server
mombongo_k - Today at 7:38 AM
The usual!

Bianka’s uPhone began to experience interruptions — a telltale sign they were going beyond the range of the Turmenistanian cell towers south of the border.

Turning her phone off to conserve battery, her attention was once again drawn to the situation at hand.

They’d already passed the varied lowlands and fields, and by now were traversing just above the thick jungle canopy below. Just ahead, she could see it: the small, unassuming township of Gondo.

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [3. Sektion] /// - “What’s the situation on the eastern front, might I ask?”

/// [AUFOR] - [1st Republican Guard Division] - [Bath Company] - [2nd Platoon] /// - “We’ve got quite the splendid defense just east of you, nothing much.”

/// [ZOFOR] - [9th. Infantry Company] - [3rd. Platoon] - [2nd. Section] /// - “Likewise.”

/// [TAFOR] - [14th Company ‘Rocky’s Boys’] - [15th Platoon] - [3rd Section] /// - “THEY’RE CHARGING IN! OUR DEFENSE IS BREAKING… OH GOD! SEND REINFORCEMENTS!”

The battle had just begun, and the Turmenistanian force to the east was already in trouble. Had they underestimated the Imala Action Front? Regardless, it wasn’t Bianka’s problem. Their task was simple: take Gondo and wait until the cavalry — in the form of the armored and airborne groups — arrived.

Touching down just outside the infamous Victoria Hotel, which was known in recent memory to be where KODEK™ mercenaries had assaulted about a month or so ago, and it certainly still showed damage from said attack.

“Well, well, well… Imalakia.” Niko mused as they walked past rusted, wrecked cars on the hotel parking lot.

“About that bet, Sierzant…” Leonid smirked, recalling his wager from a few weeks prior… that they’d be in Imalakia in a few months.

“Yeah, yeah… let’s make sure this building’s clear first.” She led them inside, Kb-92 rifles aimed at corners and shadows… it seemed as though the building was wholly derelict.

“Looks like nobody’s home.” Adrienne noted by the time they reached the third floor.

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [3. Sektion] /// - “How’s the situation in… the rest of Gondo?”

Bianka asked the other LAtR-13 units present in Gondo by radio.

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [1. Sektion] /// - “Not a soul left out here. Entire place is fuckin’ abandoned.”

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [2. Sektion] /// - “Yeah, same deal here— hold on.”

The leader of 2. Sektion paused, as though something had caught his attention — he definitely seemed worried.

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [2. Sektion] /// - “Enemies spotted, coming in from the pass in the north… mostly mechanized and motorized. I think the Vi-27s are gonna deal with it.”

The guns and rockets of the helicopters were not unlike a thunderous applause, which were echoed by explosions in the distance.

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [2. Sektion] /// - “...they’ve got AA! Frogfoot down! Look out!”

Surely enough, a Vi-27 spun past, making a rough landing in the street. Just in the distance, the Imalakians were making their rather foolish advance, even as they were being pelted by rockets from the Valefontene helicopters.

/// [AUFOR] - [1st Republican Guard Division] - [Bath Company] - [ARTY] /// - “Artillery coming in close, be advised.”

One by one, the rockets descended from above, the ground trembling as they tore to shreds the Ma’athist advance. Despite it all, however, some vehicles still emerged from the resounding dust cloud, resuming the advance.

/// [VDRFOR] - [Ludzowe Luftforz] - [XXXX] - [Kori Ko-24] - /// - “Napalm coming down!”

Had anyone survived the still ongoing bombardment, they were now being bathed in napalm, the chemically-fueled flames rapidly spreading across the highway.

Watching from what had once been a hotel room, Bianka could distantly hear agonized screams, half-muffled by the roaring blaze that had engulfed the highway.

“Surreal, isn’t it?” Niko watched the flames burning away in the distance. “This is… a real war.”

“Bit dramatic, are we—” Adrienne’s words were interrupted by the crackling of Bianka’s radio.

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [2. Sektion] /// - “What the fuck? Some of them are getting through! To the north, coming down the pass!”

“Looks like some Ma’athists are coming in from the north.” Bianka announced.

Relocating to a room that faced the north, they saw it: charging from the treeline, Ma’athist troops ran forth. They were certainly quite organized in their rush, their olive drab uniforms a definite surprise considering the Valefontene had expected a disorganized militia.

Firing down at the treeline at the town’s edge, the section held their ground against the onslaught, the bodies of Ma’athist troops beginning to pile on the muddy underbrush.

It was a crude game, Bianka’s focus on maintaining steady fire on the onslaught. Steel met flesh, and it was almost desensitizing to watch the bodies fall over almost anticlimactically.

/// [VDRFOR] - [Ludzowe Luftforz] - [XXXX] - [Kori Ko-24] - /// - “Don’t worry about nothin’ … ”

Before Bianka could reply, a wave of heat gushed over the entire squad as the treeline was bathed in napalm, charring — or vaporizing — whatever remained of the Imalakian human wave.

“Well, that’s that…” Bianka looked on at the flames glowing on brightly.

“Something tells me we’ll be here for awhile.” Leonid paced about the hotel room, his KM-61 LMG propped up on the bed.

Purple explosions dotted the mountains up north, an indication of Euanthe[1] munitions being employed against the Imalakian forces in question.

It was almost oddly soothing, in a dissonant way, to watch as more aircraft — both Valefontene and Augustan — bathed the mountain pass in napalm, sealing the fate of whatever Imalakians were unfortunate enough to have not fled by now.

“Is that all they want us to do? Just… sit here and—” Adrienne stopped.

“And?” Niko asked.

“Incoming! INCOMING!” Adrienne screamed.

It took a moment for Bianka to see it: dozens, no— hundreds of rockets trailing over the pass, descending upon Gondo. It was without a doubt that some of these would strike the hotel.

“Get the fuck back!” Bianka called out. As they evacuated the hotel room, the sound of thunderous explosions began to echo through the halls.

One of the rockets had managed to shred through one of the hotel rooms, flooding the corridor to the eastern wing of the building with flames. The structure clearly wasn’t going to last, especially considering how a relic of colonial architecture would fare after decades of mismanagement.

Descending flights of stairs, it became readily more apparent that more rockets had pierced the building’s structure. Based on how widespread the flames had already gotten, it was within possibility that the Imalakians themselves were using incendiary munitions.

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [2. Sektion] /// - “3. Sektion, what the hell is going on back there?!”

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [3. Sektion] /// - “The entire damn hotel’s burning down! We’re getting the fuck out before it does!”

Bianka hurried outside, her squadmates in tow, coughing from the soot that’d filled the building. In a few minutes, the old hotel finally gave in, its structure gradually collapsing in on itself, leaving behind only a barren skeleton of a ruin standing amidst the flames.

/// [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [2. Sektion] /// - “3. Sektion, give SITREP.”

/// [VDRFOR] - [LAtR-13] - [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [3. Sektion] /// - “We’re alive.”

/// [12. Falsczhirmkompania] - [4. Platun ‘Husaria’] - [2. Sektion] /// - “Get to the old constabulary at the edge of town! Lakkies are charging again, now that the napalm’s burning away.”

Lowering her radio, Bianka looked to the rest of her team. “We’re going to the police station. Imalakians are coming in now that the napalm’s subsided.”

“About that bet…” Leonid began.

“Yeah, yeah… here you go.” Bianka mustered a Ꮴ100 and a Ꮴ50 bill from her pocket — no change.

Arriving at the station through the back-door, it became apparent that the place had been trashed during the firefight, spent casings littering the floor. It seemed 2. Sektion had used the counter at the front desk, and various kinds of overturned furniture as cover. Though the front door wasn’t barricaded, the limp body of a Ma’athist soldier was perhaps message enough to any Imalakians that’d attempt to go through there.

The sound of the backdoor opening was enough for several of 2. Sektion’s men to aim at Bianka and her team, though the realization soon washed over them that friendly help had arrived.

“God damn. Almost thought we’d be on our own.” One of the men, presumably the CO of 2. Sektion, was relieved at the sight of fellow Valefontene troops. “Sierzant Konrad Lozic. I’m the commanding officer of 2. Sektion. You’ve probably heard of me.”

“Vaguely.” Bianka nodded.

“Is your squad that small, or have casualties been sustained?”

“Just the four of us.” She replied. “Any update on when the cavalry’s coming to save our asses?”

Before Konrad could answer, however, the sounds of gunfire resumed. Through the mud and scorched forest, the Ma’athists charged forward. In a way, the muddy conditions of the highway and its devastated surroundings made the Ma’athists much harder to spot.

/// [VDRFOR] - [Ludzowe Armie] - [XXXX] - [Vi-27 ‘Frogfoot’] - /// - “We’ve got this covered!”

Dust and mud were kicked up into the air as the fire of autocannons — presumably from the Vi-27s above, shredded through the scorched earth.

The Imalakian advance waned yet again as the survivors were picked off by Valefontene troops in the constabulary, and the nearby Vi-27 attack gunships.

“They’ll come again soon… and we’ll fight them, as we always do.” Konrad took a moment to look on at the wasteland of scorched earth that’d been created between Gondo and the mountain pass from whence the enemies were coming from. Leaving the windowside, he led Bianka upstairs alone, to what would’ve once been the sheriff’s office.

“Please, do have a seat.” Konrad made himself comfortable in the leather office chair that would’ve once belonged to the legal authority of the township.

“A good defense you’ve got here, Lozic.” Bianka complimented, seating opposite to him.

“Indeed.” Konrad smirked, a bit proud at his ego being stroked. “I’m curious though, why’s 3. Sektion only have four people?”

“I wouldn’t know why. It used to have 12, it got reorganized after what happened in Aura.”[2]

“I see, fair enough.” Konrad replied. “The armored platoons should be here shortly… glad you all came to help.”

“My pleasure.” Bianka smiled, giving a light respectful nod.

As gunfire once again resumed outside, Konrad got up from his seat. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you. Hopefully we’ll be working together more often in the future.” He extended his right hand to Bianka, a gesture which she returned by shaking his hand.

“Certainly.” Bianka rose from her seat, leaving the office to head downstairs. As she reached the first floor, the gunfire was once again muffled by the sound of explosions — she could only assume it was some combination of Valefontene and Augustan artillery at work.

“Anything I miss?” Bianka asked her squadmates, who were busy passing around a standard-issue[3] vape pen. A radio was set up on the counter, tuned to the Coalition radio station.

“Not much…” Adrienne said. “Just been listening to the radio.”

“I see.” Bianka joined them, taking a seat behind the counter.

/// [VDRFOR] - [Continental System] - [Voice of Ophir] - /// - “This is just in, the brother of Dr. Adrianasy Manelo, Mpande Manelo, has been confirmed dead by Coalition sources. Reports indicate his body was found at a small village just north of Gondo, having succumbed to his injuries from weeks prior… this news is corroborated by the Ma’athists, who reported the death of their leader’s brother earlier in the day… Mpande Manelo was responsible for logistics and strategic planning in the southeastern sector of Imalakia until being critically injured by mercenaries weeks prior.”

“In other news, the Tangaliroan government has announced its intentions to join its allies in the Imalakian Intervention. VFN[4] sources report that Valefontene and Tangaliroan advisors were seen present in the capital of Imalakia, Analamanga, potentially with the intent to negotiate a deal with President Kugande.”

It seemed there was a collective sigh of relief among the group. Tangaliro was one of the strongest powers in Ophir, if not the strongest. Its assistance would make the effort in Imalakia significantly easier.

“Hopefully there’ll be an end to this unending bloodshed.” Bianka said.

“We’re fighting a war in the name of peace.” Niko mused. “Almost… ironic.”

SUBDIRECTOR?
_{CDI Building}
_{Lee, District of Ophir}
_{Federal States of Euphemie}
_{3/26/2018 - 10:35 AM EST}

Subdirector Hoover had just finished a rather satisfactory breakfast a few floors up, and had returned to the subterranean levels. He was rather anxious, the news of the CS intervention in neighboring Imalakia had come as a surprise even to him — certainly he’d expected a response to the attack in Mieszko, but not one of this scale, or this quick.

He idly watched the television in his office, which was mounted to the mahogany-panelled walls. It was, of course, always tuned to ENBC…[5] as expected, the Continental System was achieving significant gains in Imalakia.

The phone ringing was a pleasant surprise. Casually answering it, he waited to hear who it was.

“The coalition has seized Gondo.” It was a voice he knew well…

“As expected.”

“Turmenista sustained significant casualties in the process, however.”

“Was it his doing?”

“The Bull? Yes. Man’s a legend. Jammed Turmenistanian comms, dealt with their command structure from the top-down. The entire CS right flank, managed by the Turmenistanians, collapsed. They say he killed a hundred men singlehandedly…”

“Send one of our associates to inform him his pay is being tripled… evacuate him too.” Hoover grinned.

The ‘Bull’ was an elusive mercenary with odd methods — he’d become quite close with the CDI whilst in the employ of the Ma’athists, and he was damn good at his job.

Hoover perceived the proxy war in Imalakia to be like a game of chess… and the Bull was a valuable piece he would use sparingly.

“He evacuated on his own. Once the Ma’athist forces started to crumble, he drove across the border into Eupheme. We’ve arranged a safehouse for him.”

“Splendid. Do the Tangaliroans intend to intervene?”

“Yes.”

“As I’d expected.” Hoover scoffed at the notion that the Tangaliroans were going to intervene — Imalakia was the ideal bear trap, and he would make damn sure of it… all in the name of Euphemie. “Arrange for some shipments of some… older items in our inventory. The Continental System will learn the meaning of an uphill battle.”

DREAMRAKER
_{Heydrich Building}
_{Erebus, Vaal}
_{Valefontene Democratic Republic}
_{3/26/2018 - 2:30 PM VST}

“Can you tell me what exactly this has to do with the Kaczka case?” MvH agent Karolina Simek was rather confused as she followed the special agent she’d been assigned to, Luka Vernon.

“I was looking at evidence when I came across Kaczka’s diary… though we don’t have the files from Jet with us, we do have his diary, which references his findings on the matter.” Luka explained, leading her through the winding aisles of archives. “Something regarding a… Dreamraker Project.”

“Anything more specific about that?” She raised an eyebrow, curious of what could bear such an ominous name.

“Something about tulpas and the like.” Luka replied, combing through a vast collection of folders.

“A what?”

“You ever had an imaginary friend when you were little?” Luka seemed to be getting closer to whatever he was looking for, judging by his demeanor.

“Well… yes.” Karolina answered as she stood beside him, watching him sift through folders.

“Yeah, it’s like that, somewhat. It’s a Tangaliroan concept. Though most aware of the subject would be rather insulted if I simplified the whole idea to a mere ‘imaginary friend’ … the general idea is, through meditation, one can create an autonomous subdivision of the mind… it can even have a ‘form’ it manifests itself in, that only the user can see. In essence, you’re sitting on your ass long enough ‘till you’re hallucinating split personalities.” He continued digging through the folders. “Anyway, if you want a more accurate description, just go look it up. Ah, here it is.” He pulled a folder forth, opening its contents, which were neatly organized.

_{“Within God, man. Within man, God.”}
DATED: SEPTEMBER 2014

PROJEKT DRAUMRAKER
ID: 18748927
NAME: ZIEKOWSKI, BIANKA
SEX: F
AGE: 17
HEIGHT: 5’4”
WEIGHT: 124 lbs.
ZENER-II TEST: FAIL
DESCRIPTION: Subject volunteered to join Dreamraker Project upon promises of doubled pay. Subject was placed in sensory deprivation tank for [four-hour periods of time] and subjected to [infrasound] amongst [other things] — which produced the desired effect. Subject returned from first three iterations of immersed state feeling slightly anxious. Subject was assured the purpose of such dealings was to prepare them for potential capture and near-death scenarios.

On fourth iteration of immersion test, subject experienced panic attack and demanded to be let out. Subject’s request was refused. [Subliminals] were employed accordingly.

Subject experienced [ego death], indicating success of experiment. Upon using the code-phrase [East of the Sun, West of the Moon] combined with proper usage of [subliminals] and [numeric codes], personality shift occurred — indicating success of bicameral mind-division. Said personality was dominant within the [bicameral mind] for a duration of eight hours, indicating success of experiment.

Subject awakened next morning with vague recollection of previous day and headache, indicating success of experiment. Subject reported experiencing a dream in which she witnessed doppelgänger of self, indicating creation of hallucinatory thoughtform, henceforth referred to by simplificatory term ‘tulpa’.

Final experiment involved morality test. Subject was brought into room, with adjacent ‘gas chamber’. Subject was ordered to press button to trigger gas chamber to kill a sheep within the enclosure. Subject refused. Subject was congratulated for refusing, and told that it was merely a personality test.

[Code phrase] and [subliminals] were activated successfully, and experiment was repeated. Upon being prompted, subject did not hesitate to press the button. Subject expressed confusion when the gas chamber did not function. Subject was informed of nature of experiment.

Subject awakened next morning with vague recollection of previous day, but reported no strange dreams.

Subject was discharged from Dreamraker Project on 28 Sept. 2014, along with all 14 other participants, upon MvH pressure.

Subject code-phrase and subliminals were transferred to the authority of the Ludzowe Armie in turn.

“So they tried to make soldiers easier to order around?” Karolina seemed a bit baffled by the far-fetched nature of the log, but it certainly bore truth if it were here in the MvH archive.

“A loyal soldier, who ain’t hesitant to fulfill orders.” Luka mused. “Ethically questionable at best, but there wasn’t exactly an international human rights organization governing right n’ wrong back then…”

“Remind me what this has to do with the Kaczka case…” She wasn’t entirely certain of what it had to do with the case, or why it was relevant, aside from the fact that Kaczka had vaguely mentioned it before his untimely demise.

“Everything. Kaczka was in contact with this girl, he used her help in his attempt to capture the rogue program that was Jet… and whoever killed Kaczka now knows the deeper intricacies of her involvement — and past.” He explained. “Actually, pause a second here, I uh…” Putting the folder away, he began dialing a number.

“What is it, Vernon?” A voice on the other end asked.

“Run me a search on the armed forces registry… looking for a Bianka Ziekowski…” He paused to recall the age on the file he’d just looked at. He had something to the degree of near-perfect photographic memory, it just needed… time. He quickly ran the numbers in his head regarding her age in the present day. “...aged twenty-one, possibly twenty-two.”

“A moment… what for, though?”

“Need to ask her a few questions.”

“Depends. Plane ticket for how many?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your person of interest’s on deployment all the way in Imalakia.”

“Alright, thanks a million. I got, uh, business to attend to, I’ll get to you later. Thanks.”

“No problem.” The voice on the other end said.

Hanging up, Luka drew his attention back to his assistant. “Goddamnit.”

“What’d your lead turn up?” She asked.

“She’s all the way in Imalakia, got deployed.” He was definitely a bit frustrated, as it was clear that he would’ve been able to catch onto her if it’d been a few weeks prior. “Whoever had Kaczka killed knows about her involvement… and that means we have a life on the line.”

“A certain merc was captured several weeks ago in the Black Annex… maybe he’ll talk?” Karolina suggested.

“Perhaps my words — or threats, will sway him. If we know who they answer to, then maybe we can figure out a way to bring them to justice.”

CONTEXT NOTES
a - certain FIA agent - A collab post was drafted with FAP, but this post came quicker. Don’t worry about it.

1 - Euanthe - Form of ordnance indigenous to the VDR. A much more unstable substance than the standard explosive, it is especially effective at destroying structures, due to the high temperatures Euanthe combustion produces. Due to the purple coloration of the powder, it creates a rather impressive spectacle upon detonation.

2 - what happened in Aura - The VDR deployment to Azenyanistan, albeit brief, saw the reorganization of Bianka’s squad due to sustained casualties.

3 - standard-issue - Vape pens are issued to VDR troops as a means of stress relief.

4 - VFN - Valefontaniczh Radfunknetwork, shortened to VFN, is the state-owned corporation that serves as the primary news network in Valefontaine.

5 - ENBC - Euphemian National Broadcasting Corporation is one of many news stations in the FSE, but it is certainly the most watched, and trusted, source.

by **Tangaliro** » Sun Apr 01, 2018 11:10 pm

I come from a shithole country, shitty people, shitty wars, shitty weapons and shitty society. If you can find a more fucked up place than Imalakia, tell me, maybe then I can at least hold a bit appreciation to the people of that ridiculous place for not making the worst shithole of this fucking world.

~Karl Wen "Freak", squad leader of Alpha Team, Special Operation Platoon, 88th Mechanized Division, TNA

Location Unknown
Date Unclear
Time Unavailable

Weather: Sunny

It is a rather sunny day out there, but the whole town is filled with rubble, craters and gunsmoke, gunfire can be heard everywhere, with traces of bullets passing by here and there occasionally. Under the cover of what remains of a ruined building, two soldiers dressed in Std. 1968 Olive Drab[1] has quickly moved toward the next building rubble by rubble.

"Lay down!"

The duo dived toward the next cover, before traces of bullets flies past where the two were at seconds ago. The two quickly stood up, and rushed for the cover. The one in the front stood up and returned fire from behind the destroyed wall, while the other leaned against the wall reloading his BQ52 assault rifle[2].

Suddenly, the sound of an explosion entered the ears of the duo, the two hid behind the wall, staring at each other, winking in a cartoony manner.

"What the fuck is that?"

The man in the front took a careful peek from cover to check, then slowly turned his head back to face his partner.

"You know, Beard, I would really appreciate to have a vacation at the beach after this."

"Aw hell splendid, what beach?"

"Son of a bitch! Pass me that launcher, it's a motherfucking killdozer!" he exclaimed, and grabbed his squad AT weapon[3] as soon as Beard passed him the tube.

"Cover me!" the soldier exclaimed.

Beard didn't hesitate, and immediately stood up doing suppressive fire on the enemy infantry escorting the killdozer. The other soldier quickly set up the launcher, held it on his shoulder and aimed toward the killdozer.

*Boom*

With the sound of an explosion, the bulldozer caught on fire, it wasn't long before its crew members started jumping off of the improvised killing machine, only to be mowed down by Beard.

"Got them," Beard notified his partner.

"Great, get into that building over there," his partner responded, gesturing him to move into the building a few steps away from them.

The two rushed toward the building while returning fire. Despite how the two seemed to be panicking during the fight, Beard actually took out the bulk of the his targets with fair accuracy.

Beard slammed open the door, and the first thing he saw were several enemy soldiers hiding in the building, probably from the chaos outside as well, they seem quite unprepared for the sudden entry of their foes.

"Freak, your turn!"

"Got it." His partner calmly responded, swiftly drawing out his bayonet and slitting the throat of the poor bastard who stood the closest to the duo.

Before the soldiers can react, Beard landed a shot in the second closest soldier as Freak thrusts his way through the narrow corridor into the head of another, the last one of them raised his rifle in panic, but was quickly slammed onto the ground by Freak.

"Who...who are you!?" the soldier asked in panic.

"Name's Freak, remember the name." Freak answered, and swiftly ended his life.

Shuijing Barrack, Tangaliro
1st April, 2018
5:00pm

Weather: Sunny

"That was pretty good," Beard said, as he and Freak walks out of the Full Immersion Pod[4].

What just happened was mere VR training simulation. In fact, the duo was the first to test it out for the potential application of the technology in military training.

"Hell yeah,"Freak answered.

The duo walked out of the testing room after bidding the testing team a goodbye, and proceeded to their room in the barracks.

"Ey, lads," Freak greeted his squad. and straightforwardly pulled out a chair from under the table in the center of the room, taking his seat. One of the soldiers passed him a mug of water.

"Thanks, Chen," Freak thanked the soldier.

"You're welcome."

"Well, the headquarter sent us an order today, you know about the ongoing crisis and our upcoming intervention in Imalakia, right?"

"That shithole? Yea, the marines are taking care of it aren't they?" Freak answered, taking a sip from the mug.

"Do not call our neighbour a shithole." Chen frowned. "We're getting deployed there soon, you'd better ad-"

Freak nearly crushed his mug when he heard about the deployment, he looked at Chen "It's just an April Fools joke right?"

"Nope, heres the document the headquarter has sent us."

"Shit, thats the place I want to return to the least."

"Do not swear, sir, it poses bad influence to the squad."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Freak answered, taking out a packet of cigarette from his pocket.

"No smoking in the barracks, sir."

"Yeah, yeah, alright!" Freak exclaimed, walking out of the room and slamming the door behind.

Rooftop of 4th residual quarter building, Hualou Barrack, Tangaliro
1st April, 2018
5:30pm

Weather: Sunny

Freak stood alone on the rooftop of the building, leaning against the railing of the roof and quietly thinking behind a lit cigarette, with the sun setting behind him.

"Well, time to go home."

[1]: The std. 1968 Olive Drab G.I. has been the standard infantry uniform for the TNA before it started being replaced by the std. 1982 Tri-colour G.I. BDU. However, it remained in service for personnel serving in less combat-intensive environments, for example, security guards for governmental facilities. Due to its aesthetic features, it is known to be quite popular among collectors of military gears. Freak has a set of the uniform in his home that he acquired during his early day serving in the TNA.
[2]: TC-52 Assault Rifle was the first standard issued Tangaliroan assault rifle during the early days, while it is already phased out by newer models, the model is known to be stockpiled in massive amount in the arsenals of Tangaliro, to arm reserve forces when needed.
[3]: The squad AT weapon here is likely to be the FZ-84 individual anti-tank weapon of Tangaliroan service, as both Freak and Beard are not supposed to handle squad-level AT weapons in combat.
[4]: The Tangaliroans have imported the VRcade and Full Immersion Pod technology from VDR years ago, lately, there has been hypothesis over the potential of using the technology in military training purpose, the testing involving Beard and Freak today is one of the tests run by the project team to experiment on such potential.

by **The Enclave Government** » Mon Apr 02, 2018 7:30 pm

FEURER FREI
a Revan Production

This multiversal adventure is brought to you by: Maasaki Yuasa's DEVILMAN crybaby! Good as both TV and music, download the pre-release soundtrack today!

A death in the ocean would be so beautiful....

Edward groaned as he pulled himself up from the floor of the hawk. Resting his back on the side of the chassis, he momentarily thought of asking who'd said that sentence as he woke up. But he thought better of himself. Probably a dream. That last six hours on the rickety hawk had been the best sleep the man had gotten in weeks. Possibly a month.

Edward and company, riddled with mosquito bites and fevers to match, sorely misunderestimated what the Black Jungle had in store for them. The challenge lied not in its specific danger but the vastness of the bloody thing. You can only cover so many miles in 90° weather, the sun beating on you or the jungle leaves providing shadows for snakes and the like to slither into. That was the unfortunate lesson Jakob learned on the 12th day. One misplaced foot led to an ill-fated amputation followed by mercy shot to the head with a 9mm parabellum. Administered by Sierra, at the poor bastard's request. Did always have a hardon for her.

The rest of the party, save for the expected mosquito bites and malnourishment, had made it fairly safely if uncomfortably to the grab point. Pondering what was next, Edward noticed the co-pilot peeking his head back into the cabin.

"Right. So plan from here on out is to fly along the Euphemian border until we reach the foothills of the Black Mountains to the West. Then we're going to cross into Euphemian air-space, into Imalakian, and then hug the Euphemian border back into Turmenista. You'll be dropped off near.... 'Vanaga.' Whatever that place is."

Sierra snickered slightly. "And do we have any confidence at all that this bird won't become roadkill when we cross into Euphemian airspace?"

"The idea is that they'll never know we were there. It's a fairly short distance in a remote part of their backwater country. Flying low should avoid any RADAR hits. The Continental System has declared a no-fly zone over Imalakia, so Euphemian fighters won't chase us into that shithole unless they have a deathwish."

"Wouldn't that no fly zone apply to us too?" Joseph perked up.

"Not with Augustan IFF regs. Now I'm going to get back to flying this hunk of junk. Ask your daddy back in Alexandria if you have any more questions about the plan." The co-pilot walked back to his seat, muttering something about millenials.

Edward said little more, his questions already raised by his mates and shot down by the co-pilot. Hopefully those questions were the only things to be shot down on this flight.....

EIGHT HOURS LATER......

Edward groaned. Another eight hours of rickety sleep on an unstable chopper did him little good. Doing a headcount, Sierra and Dylan were wide awake, and Joseph dozing off in the back. Naturally. Looking towards the on board GPS, Edward noted he seemed to have woken just in time - the bird was about to cross into Euphemian airspace, west of Medenhall. Wordlessly, he opened the onboard supply compartment and threw Sierra and Dylan parachutes. Joseph already had one - had to give the bastard credit, he always has an escape plan.

Unbeknownst to Edward, the Party, and the pilots, the Augustan IFF regs did very little to aid these young guns. Infact, it was little better than shouting "FUCK YOU!" towards the Euphemian IADS systems. But children can hardly be counted upon to deduce geopolitical realities, one of them being that the downing of an Augustan chopper in Euphemian airspace would serve Euphemian interests quite well.

This interest announced itself as the hawk began blaring its alarms - a sign a radar lock had been established. The pilots began shouting over one another, flipping switches and pushing buttons, desperately trying to activate rusted out ECM equipment. Edward and Sierra stood on the right side of the chopper as Dylan shoved Joseph awake and those two stood on the left side of the chopper.

The alarms suddenly started screeching instead of blaring, giving the onboard passengers time to look out the window as an AMRAAM missile shot off to the right about 500 meters.

The pilot shouted out. "Bloody lucky the Euphemians have only fought rice farmers for the past half century!" which was only met by Sierra shouting back, as loudly; "Get back to flying this bird you moron!"

Crossing into Imalakian airspace, the Euphemian radar lock was broken and the droning of the helicopter's alarms were silenced. That was, until the helicopter started being torn to shreds by the 20mm shells raining from a technical battlebus rigged with stolen Turmenistan triple A.

The party were all awaken either by near misses of 20mm shells near their extremities or the rocking of the chopper as the pilots attempted to put the bird down fast enough to land out of choice but slow enough not to become a pancake. In the end, a midground was reached - for the party, that is.

Once they picked themselves up from the wrecked chopper and verified the pilots were, indeed, little more than human-colored jello, they picked up their rifles, equipment, and slid open the door.

Jumping out of the chopper, HK417s and HK416s at the ready, the party were greeted by the inquisitive faces of some 20 odd locals. After shouting out in Standard Ophiric and registering no response, Edward looked over to Sierra while shifting his aim between the natives.

"How do you like our chances of just eyeballing them until they fuck off?" "I don't."

Shooting Sierra a glance and a nod, with Sierra passing on the gesture to Dylan and Edward to Joseph, the party opened fire. The natives could barely figure out why their fellow tribesmen were keeling over before they could register the 7.62mm bullet entering their skull and turning their raggedy clothes into a tomb from which they would never clamber out of.

Kicking one of the now deceased's face as he passed by, Edward and the Party set out to the south.

Crossing the Turmenistan-Imalakian border, less resistance was met by the Party than expected. Auxillary units of the Turmenistan Military - those manning the border - had been pulled to staunch the bleeding at the nearby culmination of Operation Kalahari. As Edward would later learn, his good fortune was allowed by Turmenistan incompetence during that battle. But that's a story for another time.

A Turmenistan nature preserve happened to link up with the Imalakian border - this preserve, coincidentally, held what the party was going after. Cecil the sloth. A two ton son of a gun with a clearance of over 18 feet.

Clambering over the chain link fence, the Party were greeted by the sight of the sloth. The sloth's rear, to be precise, as it was bending over to drink a sizable pond dry. Levelling their firearms and zeroing their scopes, the party began to fan out behind trees both upright and fallen over for cover. Merely standing in a group and killing it via firing squad would not do.

With everyone in position, Edward nodded assent to Sierra. And Sierra to Dylan. And Dylan to Joseph. About three seconds after, bullets started flying. 7.62 and 5.56 alike, all across the bastard's back and head. Bullets lodged in its spine, its head, its limbs. It could barely roar before it collapsed into the pond, splashing tons of water onto the sand.

And after less than thirty seconds, Cecil was dead. Edward and Sierra set to work cutting the head off the beast - what's a kill if not a trophy? - as Dylan and Joseph relieved it of its fur. Within fifteen minutes, they were back over the Imalakian border and linking up with an Augustan special operations team.

"Welcome back, boys. Ready for the debrief?"

Edward nodded assent to the Colonel. "Sure am, Colonel Revan. Sure am."

FIN

WS: Series One [New Ausozera Only, Archive]

WS: Series One [New Ausozera Only, Archive]

Weaving Spiders Come Not Here [New Ausozera Only, IC RP]

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