Skeletons in the Closet

[Bellom]

Every nation has some skeletons in the closet. For some, the closet door is more firmly shut than others. And for Bellom, the closet literally was full of skeletons. Except it wasn't really a closet, it was more akin to a few big ditches. Mass graves, if you will. The result of a systematic procedure to cleanse Bellom of the unpure ethnicities that had slowly infiltrated the lower sectors of society. 15 years of democratic society had opened the borders of Bellom to peoples from all across the world. Immigration swelled, and the natives lost faith in their government. A swift bloodless coup had brought an end to that debauchery, and the previous order of religious autocratic theocracy was restored.

That wasn't welcome news for everyone, however. The minorities which were so quick to find a new home in Bellom were now forcibly uprooted from their homes. Some were deported. Most were killed. It was ethnic cleansing in its purest form. Some bodies were buried in graves, but most weren't. As a result, in the most inaccessible parts of Bellom lay a number of mass graves.

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Thrusting hard and deep, the Captain grunted. He wasn't one to pay for sex, and so he was glad that the Army provided its officers with women free of charge to keep them satisfied. This lady was quite a daisy; a bit too thin for his tastes, but she had the look of a model. Moaning, she reached and grabbed the head of the captain, who was standing as she sat on the officers desk. She didn't mind her job - it was easy, pleasuring, and she made a pretty penny. If it was "immoral" by some nation's standards, it certainly wasn't by Bellom's - prostitution was not only legal but respected.

The captain started thrusting faster. He was approaching his climax, and he wanted to make the most out of it. All of a sudden, the door flew open and his senior non-commissioned officer stepped in. The captain pulled out and spun around, awestruck that someone would have the audacity to enter his office without knocking. Since he wasn't wearing a rubber, he ejaculated all over his NCO. The younger officer stood there, dumbfounded. "Well?" demanded the Captain. "The fuck do you want?"

The officer shook his head, trying to regain his senses. "Sir, uh, uh, the radar operators missed a spy plane flying over Bellom. We just caught it on its way out. It saw everything."

Shit. He was going to have to tell his superiors about this, and they would have his head. That was going to be the last free poon he got in quite some time. Foreign nations would not take kindly to what they were about to learn. "Thank you. Dismissed. And go get your uniform laundered for fucks sake."

[Osthia]

Emperor Christofer was sitting in his summer palace by the Osthian coast, relaxing on the balcony. After several weeks of nonstop work, he really needed a vacation. "Your Majesty, a word?" The sixteen year old emperor sighed and turned to face his Minister of Justice. "What is it this time?" The Minister approached Chris. "A foreign nation has just released photos from their spy plane flying over a nation. Minister Sforka saw them and asked me to show you." He handed Christofer a manilla envelope which he took reluctantly. As he looked at the photos, his eyes widened. "My God. Did Mr. Sforka happen to mention which nation took these photos?" The Minister of Justice shook his head. "Even he did not know where it came from. All he knows is that the location of these mass graves is in the nation of Bellom. From what we know, Bellom is a strictly theocratic nation, which has a population that is strongly against their ethnic minorities. This is apparently the extent that Bellom is willing to go. What are your orders?"

Christofer looked at the sun that had begun to set beyond the horizon and knew that those murdered people would never again see something as beautiful as a setting sun, all because of a fanatical government. "Spread these photos to the international community. For now, we will embargo Bellom and see if they are willing to pay for their actions. If they act belligerent, then Osthia will once again go to war."

[Ursava]

OOC: Hope you don't mind if I take control of the spy plane?

The mission had been a standard fare for the crew of the modified B1-B Lancer. They had their plane fitted with cameras and various observation tools such as thermometers and other pieces of high altitude observation equipment. Originally they had been planning to just fly over international waters in an attempt to find one of their own nuclear submarines for part of a training exercise but when they had hit a heavy high altitude fog the pilot hadn't dropped altitude, putting too much faith in his co-pilots skilled. Said co-pilot didn't monitor all of his instruments and as a result when they should have been in grid square B-7 over international waters...they were flying over H-3: a part of Bellom. They had initially planned to just fly on through without any trouble but then the surveillance officer had noticed something on one of the nose cameras of the Lancer. He had used one of the higher detail cameras to zoom in on to some activity he had spotted in the mountains: originally thinking that the bulldozers and digging equipment were part of some sort of construction site.

The high resolution had picked up the bodies though, and once they had exited Bellom's airspace they had immediately broadcast the pictures back to their superiors. They had then returned home, shaken, and surprised. Meanwhile the authorities of the IIA, both wishing to avoid conflict and embarrassment at one of their prized spy planes losing it's heading released the pictures under false internet identities in to world-wide web. They just hoped it would help other nations form up against this...while they prepped another plane for the flight.