While leaving the Listonia summit, with the nation now set, he rested his laptop on his lap as his plane ventured back to Vekaiyu. Upon reaching his email, he wrote up a letter, sending it across The East Pacific continent, specifically, to Warre,Free Pacific States, and Anglic Jutland.
He clicked ‘send’, and set his laptop aside, getting some much needed sleep.
Seigfreid Toepfer, the President looked at the message and thought, “I better discuss this with the government, but carefully, you never know when the Pax will hear you.” He then typed up a reply
Mr. Leyuski,
I would be glad to help against the Pax, as they are an enemy to freedom and our very way of life. I will have to hold a secret meeting of parliament to discuss our course of action. However I will tell you, since
I can trust you in this case, is that our government has sent some of our shadow operations members to Tassalvalta to try and cause problems for the Pax, we suggest you do the same even before going to war offically.
Signed,
President Seigfreid Toepfer
There was a drumming of foot falls, accompanied by the slight almost military cadence sound of typing. The sounds were interjected with a few sparse conversations, but many of them were broken by terse commands from others.
The room was an odd place to see a bunch of computer stations set up in, white marble all about the a deep orange banner hanging from the walls, with the royal insignia of the Warreic Kingdom clearly upon them.
The foot falls continued, with verbal messages clearly spoken. There were no e-mails to send information, rather speech or song clips which contained highly coded words.
In the back of the room, with his hand in his hand, sat the newly appointed Grand Admiral, Seann McNamara, a man born of Warreic and Umikazic parents, who felt very tense in this situation. Despite being a firm twenty six years of age, and having been within the Imperial Warreic Army* for the past ten years, this situation was beyond him.
The King had not yet returned, and had left McNamara in charge of military operations and preperations, aside from the ones already decided on in regards to Dveria, Elephania, and Listonia.
The almost anglicly clear blue eyes of the Grand Admiral closed as he thought, and then he heard it.
The words of his King from one of the filtering stations. He jumped to attention.
As was almost seeming customary, his royal highness, Warren II of the House McCue, was upon the televisions of Warre which were tuned into stations located terrestrially within Warre’s boundaries. The feed was also through it’s two sattelite stations, which could be picked up by any subscriber throughout the East Pacific.
“Slainte, Warre.” The King spoke out simply but sharply. As he did, the area he was in could be guessed as an open aired area upon a ship, with the deep blue water in the back ground.
“I am happy to say that the summit within Neorvins was a grand success. I believe the conflict within the Listonian region may be over soon, and I have pledged troops to peacekeeping missions within Listonia, Elephania, and Dveria. I also would like to announce Warre’s formal recognition of the nations of Listonia and Elephania, pending the two having functional constitutions.”
He lets out a wide smile, and then nods.
“But obviously, if I was simply making such an announcement, the royal envoy to the media would be doing such a job. I am not making only that announcement.”
A frown clearly shows itself upon his face.
“From the information I’ve been given by military intelligence, the Packilvanian… nation, has set off a number of nuclear weapons upon the Kingdom of Tassalvalta, and through maneuvers which are very despicable, taken much of Tassalvalta. Some would think it wise to simply stay quiet and be glad that their nation was not the ones who had been attacked by the crua deamhan, but if such is wise, we would rather be an absolute idiot.”
“We find the maneuver by the Packilvanian Army absolutely illegal, and we pledge to assist the Tassalvaltan people in any way we can. We also ask that any other nations who refuse to cower in fear at Packilvania -and those who see the logic notion that even if there is some fear of Packivania- that it is better to stand against it-, to join us for a meeting in Lumina, to discuss the situation. We also are announcing a call to all mercenary companies whom do not have unbreakable contractual duties to enlist their services to the local Imperial Warreic Army office. Any able bodied men and women who wish to join the normal army will be given such an oppurtunity as well, including any Dverians, Listonians living in Warre, or peoples from the Jeneran isles. Pax Mortisica Packilvania, pax Mortisica Packilvania.”
A reply was quickly ratcheted together, and sent by messenger, in response to the proposal by Vekaiyu, heading directly for the offices of Leyuski, and McEva, both messages were clear and of one word alone.
“Aye.”
Hoopoian Territory
Noi sat in front of the desk and signed the Hive to an alliance. She was glad to see the Hive extending to new friendly powers, but was disturbed. She could not get the image of the small girl out of her head, laying there missing limbs. She would have died if she hadnt given the assimilation order. She felt better about that, but part of her wondered what these peoples lives would be like without the war. She sighed. She vowed to herself to make it quick. She had to put down the resistance in the Tassalvaltan territory or the people would never know peace again.
If this is all, I apologize, but I must be going. I am having trouble keeping the rebels in check. I also hear the rumblings of the world. I fear a much worse war may break out soon. While we may win, I fear the cost may be too high, even for the new alliance. I have put the Hive on alert. I would suggest you take precautions yourself. This may not be over
Camp
The guards milled around. It had been quite. Most of the territory they were assigned to was open countryside, and had few civilians. They had been quickly rounded up. For some reason, Noi had ordered a stop to forced assimilations, and only wanted to proceed with voluntary ones. The prisoners would go to HooHoopland as soon as the territory was returned to Pax control. Shift swap was coming up. The guards were tired after working 24 hour shifts, and would enjoy their rest. The sun set.
OOC
Go ahead with your attack on the camp if you want to. I will let you determine the outcome, but if you go far with the attack, the Pax will simply destroy the camp. Probably with a low yield nuke or high yield conventional bomb. (I kiloton)
Enyalius cleared his throat and squinted slightly to focus on the sheet of paper he’d just been handed. He skimmed it quickly and grunted, crumpling it up and dropping it into a paper bin under his desk.
There was a moment of silence as Enyalius reclined in his chair and yawned. The young man stood on the other side of his desk squirmed uncomfortably and finally dared to speak. “My Lord…?”
Enyalius seemed to jump slightly, as if he’d been dozing off. “Oh.” He frowned, scratching his beard. “Right.” he reclined slightly and closed his eyes.
“Sorry My Lord, I was foolish to propose such…”
“What?” Enyalius quickly leant forward and slammed a fist, dramatically, onto the large desk which caused several photoframes to topple over. “You’re the fourth regiment,” Enyalius’ gaze burnt into young man for a second, “well, fourth representative to approach me and ask exactly the same thing. Granted the second was honest and just wanted to fight.”
The young man remained silent, eyes fixed on the floor.
Enyalius grunted again and stood up, sighing with the effort. “The Coalition, and it pains me to say this, doesn’t want to fight Packilvania. But you lot are independant for a reason. If we count your regiment, that’s about eighteen thousand going. Don’t think I can spare much more at this rate.”
The young man smiled and saluted. “We heard the Warreic broadcast–”
“So did everyone. But don’t expect the Coalition to aid you lot. As far as anyone - me especially incase I get into trouble - is concerned, you’re alone. All I can say is contact the Warreic and get on your way.”
“Don´t worry about precautions on our side, Ms. Noi. Drakkengard will be ready, because we´re always at war. Not our wars most of time, but its being our way for centuries. Even now would be more accurate to say that we are an army with a country-sized HQ. Nevertheless, i´d like to give you a gift before you leave.”
He then gestured to a few aides, which brought a set of plate armor of roughly humanoid shape.
“Here is what we currently call the cyber-armor. But its named so because one needs cybernetic strenght to use it and its locked into cybernetic implants rather than worn. As its little more than armor-shaped spent uranium, its cheap and easily made, however provides as much protection as a light armored vehicle. Maybe you´ll find it a interesting solution to improve your drones defenses. If so, we might mass produce it.”
He then sighs and…
“A pity you can´t stay for the celebration, but i understand. A pleasure meeting you, Ms. Noi, and i´m sure that soon we´ll be in contact again.”
http://www.costa-rica-land-for-sale.com/picts/Reserva-fog.JPG
The Levinasi, province of Vekaiyu which shares the longest border with Packilvania.
Vekaiyu Threatens with War
Reporting for the V3 News Services, Anya Revelesu
In a televised statement, Todd Leyuski warned the nation of Packilvania to return the Tassalvalta lands or face a declaration of war.
“In such trying times, we, the people of The East Pacific, must make a stand,” he said, hands folded across a desk backed by Vekaiyun flags. “It is important to show the bullies of the realm that we are no longer afraid of their brutalities and atrocities committed against all sentient species. The offensive juggernaut of the HIVE shall no longer be a threat to Tasselvalta, or any other nation which does not have the capacity to ward off an invasion. I call upon all nations of The East Pacific to assist in the neutralization of Packilvanian might. It is your duty, and essential to the safety and well being of your people to assist us in this endeavor.”
The Kral Commodore also had harsh words for Packilvania in general. “As for the aggressors, you have approximately three days to remove your presence from the nation of Tassalvalta. If you cannot comply with our demand, Vekaiyu will sign a declaration of war with Packilvania, and shall prepare for an offensive strike with proper means and justification. Vekaiyu is not, nor has it ever been, afraid of aggressive nations, and we will not back down to this brutal and blatant bullying of Packilvania aggression.”
The Kral Commodore ended the television broadcast with a special word for the people of Vekaiyu, asking them to remain “strong and united” during these trying crimes. He also reminded them of their duty, stating, “While Vekaiyu has not received fair treatment around the realm, we are a proud, strong people who believe in standing up for what is right and having our actions match our words. This is our new duty: to maintain and ensure peace in the region.”
Selvala McEva has yet to comment on the situation.
© 2009 Vekaiyu News Services
Imperial Palace - The Situation Room
Eastrovia, East Malaysia
"We are thankfully safe to the south but if the region goes into war, we can’t just watch from the south. We have two options. Assist the nations that are not as technologically advanced as Packilvania or side with Packilvania, Admiral Juneburg took a breath as she pulled up new screens on the large view screen.
The black market trade in the south territories are actually useful for us in this situation. Being largely human in population, they are outraged with an invasion of likes they compare to us. We can supply some illegally traded material and make it seem as if it was stolen. Also we can wire some money through the Capital Coalition’s CapCoal Bank; it will be untraceable. The only foreseeable problem we may run into is if we are caught, we have a powerful force to deal with.
Juneburg was done with her presentation and stepped aside, waiting for Jung to respond.
We are powerful ourselves but if they turn our way, we will not be able to win, but we can’t just standby and do nothing… she paused and her face lightened up, I have an idea that would work perfect with yours. We have used equipment storage close to the Southcaven boarder, clear our the majority of it and plant information about it in the black market. They steal it, we don’t realize it until it’s at its designation, due to a improper log entry, Jung stood up quickly and started for the door and as the door opened she turned back and spoke, We have work to to do. I want this done by the end of today and I will wire the money now. I will give Warre, Anglic Jutland, and Vekaiyu EM$ 1 billion to share from one of the emergency funds through CapCoal. Dismissed, and she walked out the door.
Thirty Years Previous
“Well?”
The man who paced back and forth in the vast yet plain royal audience hall was quite old. Ramius Valta the Second, holder of the Oaken Throne and seventeenth descendent of Wesley the First, had ruled for sixty-three years, and it showed. Innumerable lines covered his face, if illuminated charitably by the constellation of art-deco lights that lit the room for want of daylight from the generously skylit ceiling.
Privately, he’d have admitted that about half of them were from the last year. As the schism within his family grew worse, regiment after regiment of the army deserted, and all-too-functional court grew around his nephew, Stephen (the Third, as he was always quick to point out) and an increasingly brazen rebellion, there was little time for rest. And so he had added to the lines on his face, lost sleep, and become too fidgety for the task of donning regal attire, preferring the plain civilian clothes he now wore. “I’m thinking.”
A more different appearance in the world could not be found than that of the only other in the room at this late hour. She was young, perhaps twenty-four at the very most, with black hair braided a hundred different ways and a perfectly proportioned face that nevertheless radiated a cold, regal authority behind shimmering red-and-yellow embers of eyes. In contrast to the king’s disordered attire, she wore a suit of full armor of deep, inky blackness save for an elaborate pattern of alien and discomforting runes etched into it, which glowed red. It must have weighed a great deal, but did not seem to hinder her movement in the slightest. In contrast to the king’s pacing and fidgeting, she stood perfectly still, serene, arms crossed.
“I will not put a deadline on your decision, your Majesty. However, I need remind you of the deadline you cannot avoid.” The statement, made in a perfectly calm and clear voice, seemed to unsettle the king even more. “The march of time waits for no man. Not even you.”
The king stopped in his tracks, muttered something under his breath, and turned. “Perhaps I will be able to resolve this peacefully, without-”
“The Pretender’s troops are three days from the capital. Every garrison that they have faced has defected. When they arrive, they will arrest you - and young Ramius, of course - and charge you both with treason. And we both know what the specific penalty has been in Tassavalta for treason since the days of Wesley.” Ramius shuddered, but the woman in the black armor only smiled broadly.
“Tell me again…what you offer?” The king stammered.
“Your nephew, Stephen, dead. Every nobleman loyal to him - openly or in secret - dead. Every commander of every regiment that has turned to him, dead. Confidential papers uncovered after your nephew’s death will reveal him and his inner circle to have been traitors in the employ of President Gorski of Kangarawa, acting to turn the nation into a puppet. The deaths will have been the ingenious work of a conspiracy of loyalists - unknown to you, of course - who uncovered the depth of this conspiracy and acted to destroy it. All will, of course, be tragically killed by the Pretender’s troops as the rebellion disintegrates. The rebellion will end, the House of Valta will be set in order, and Ramius the Third will sit on the throne when your age passes. Neither he nor anyone in Tassavalta outside of this room shall know of our bargain, except as is necessary to see that its terms are upheld.”
“And you will do this how?”
Flames leapt up across the whole room, pristine floors ignited in a bonfire that, for all its terrible heat, consumed nothing. A perfect circle perhaps three meters wide stood unburned, a ring around the king. “Do not doubt that which I am capable of.” Where the diabolic figure had stood before him, the voice now came from behind, where she stood, a knife already to his throat. As soon as she had spoken, the flames vanished, and she stood where she had before.
“And in return, you expect the concessions that-”
“That I already explained earlier. What you would lose is beyond your capability to use anyhow.”
“Then- then…” the king stammered, but took a moment to regain his composure.
“Then?”
“Then I have no choice but to accept your offer.” Ramius said. “May the gods forgive me.”
“Perfect.” A bundle of paperwork and a pen appeared in a puff of flame, resting in the visitor’s hands. “Then let’s just get to the little matter of your signature and you can put this whole wretched business behind you.”
There was a frown upon young Ramius Wesley Valta’s face, as the young Tassalvaltan Crown Prince, -or now as he should more properly reason King-, heard the news. He sat outside of an important office somewhere deep within the mountains of Warre’s main island, in a building built into the mountain itself. Harsh fluorescent light engulfed the area around the young Tassalvaltan King, who reasoned now that his new name was Ramius the IVth, not Ramius Wesley Valta II.
The young man who in a different time would be the holder of the oaken throne, narrowed his crystaline blue eyes at the entire situation. He had heard the news reports of what had happened when he had been gone on business for his father, gone from Shiro Academy, and sent to the Kingdom of Warre, to discuss the Listonian Crisis and Dveria in private with the Warreic King.
A door opened, and a slight blast of air flowed forward, knocking the young King’s burgundy locks slightly asunder. Ramius’ eyes quickly locked upon the direction of the door, and there stood a man who he by now knew very well who he was.
His Royal Highness, Warren II of the House McCue, King of Warre. He had seen him from news briefings back home about ‘people of interest’, and he had seen him in news broadcasts while in Warre. As he watched this man, this man who held the power to do so many things, good or bad, for his kingdom, his spine had a slight chill to it.
“Come with me, Ramius Valta, come with me so we can discuss with my advisers exactly what’s the best plan of action to make sure that Tassalvalta does not fall to the hands of Pax, and you may see the day when you are placed upon the Oaken throne as Ramius the IVth of Tassalvalta.”
Ramius’ chills instantly went away, and a smile replaced them. Without a moment’s hesitation, he got up from the bench.
“I appreciate your help, King Warren.”
“You can call me Warren, if you’d like.”
“Thank you then, Warren.”
And so the heir to the throne of Tassalvalta, and the king of Warre, began walking into, and entered, the ‘war room’ of the Warreic government.
As they entered it was clear that this room was not out of place from the rest of the Warreic Military, a mixture of old and new. Up-to-date and modern computers, and comfortable work stations, contrasting with banners bearing the Coat of Arms of the Royal family, the coat of arms of the various military branches, and the Coat of Arms which was originally used by the Royal family.
Soldiers stood in full attire, with rifles locked and loaded, but as still as if they were suits of armor.
In the center of it all was a fairly new device, imported from the tinkerers and engineers from the Ri as Mac Lir, the Kingdom of Mac Lir* within the Fifty-three Islands.
It seemed to be a simple table, but as the King looked towards the work stations, the soldiers working there quickly showed that it was something different than simply a sturdy looking steel and glass table. A 3D map of the East Pacific, showed itself in a sprawling 3d projection display, which was untransparent enough to look as if some lonely game master had spent tons of time designing the map with paper mache and time, yet transparent enough to make it hard to photograph.
“As even a student in elementary school could tell you, this is a map of the East Pacific.” The King spoke out, as the grand admiral Seann McNamara strode forward from behind the work stations. The King continued. “As we also both know, this…” he pointed to Tassalvalta with a rod, and the map zoomed in. “Is Tassalvalta.”
The King then looked to the newly promoted Grand Admiral McNamara. He spoke clearly to the military officer. “Care to lead on the meeting from here on?”
The door opened, and a few of the highest rank officers in the nation strode in, and stood around the table. In addition to those present were two commanders of the Elafosian regiments who had come, the commanders most capable as leading the regiments in full as far as Warre was concerned.
“Now I am, Sire.” the grand admiral replied, calling out in reply, before taking the rod from his King, and without pause pointing to the northwestern Tassalvaltan mountains. “Our reconnaissance says that there is a significant amount of survivors, military and civilian, within the mountains. While we know that they can provide aid in military operations, and work as guerrillas, we are not sure upon their weapon capacities, and as such think that it would be wise to not only place roughly an eight of forces established for the counter-assault into the mountains, but also place as many weapons and equipment as we can muster, as well as general aid supplies. We are lucky in that these mountains are fairly steep and thereby not easy to get exact location pinpoints on from above, to to move through.”
The King was silent, and the Tassalvaltan prince was all ears. The commanders looked at the situation and to each other and just nodded.
“This war comes after a time of peace on the part of Packilvania, and we can only assume from footage we’ve caught it’s motives were food. Battle footage we’ve poured over from various television stations that’ve caught action from between Packilvanian troops and other nations before has told us that Packilvanians often underestimate the value of Tactics, and guerrilla tactics at that. As a result, it is the office of strategic plannings suggestion that we urge Vekaiyu to do as it has planned, and for it to move to take the Packilvanian lands to the south of Vekaiyu, as well as allow us to use it as a supply dump for our troops.”
The King spoke out to interrupt the Grand Admiral. “And what of Zholessia?”
Instead of the Grand Admiral, one of the other officers spoke out in response.
“They’d be foolish to resist any movements through their territory, because if we fail halting Packilvania’s advance in Tassalvalta, and driving them back, Zholessia will surely be next.”
The King gave a nod, and then turned back to the Grand Admiral.
“As I was saying, our plan is to allow Vekaiyu to do as it said, and endorse such. We will put a few ‘facade’ troops there to make it look as we are focusing there.” He swirled the rod and he map flipped in the opposite direction, with the southern coast of Packilvania now in clear view. “Our actual focus will be here, where the standard operations will be dealt, and we will use the same armament we used during the Listonian conflict. Our goal is to take the coast, or at least paralyze Packilvania from behind. A standard flanking movement, which should not be hard to facilitate, so long as there is no interference from Drakkengard. And finally, we plan to use the fighter craft recovered over the past two years… to bomb the Packilvanian farmlands, in an attempt to burn as much of their foodsources as we can.”
The King burst out laughing. “And so you plan to teach the Packilvanians the age old idiom, that an army marches on it’s stomach?”
The Grand admiral nodded, and the King then turned to the Prince Ramius. “And you, young Prince Ramius Wesley Valta? What do you think of our plans to drive back the swarm of the Packilvanian menace, and to bring them to their knees?”
The young Tassalvaltan prince simply blinked, no words coming to his mind as that familiar chill came up his back. But the sadness from before began to become hope. Maybe fate wasn’t so cruel after all? Despite his long time training in diplomatic matters, the Tassalvaltan spoke simply. “You guys are scary…”
On the news of the packilvanian invasion, the government of Lazlowia made an official statement, in which they condemned the invasion, applauded the responses of the other nations and decleared, that Lazlowia ceases all trade with Packilvania, extradict all packilvanian citizen from their borders, and set the army on alert until further notice. The govrnment of Algaisia made a similar statement.
Although president Lazlow wanted to take even more drastic mesures, the parliament was against him this time. The majority of the representatives were against a war versus a larger, techically more advanced nation, which is even armed with nuclear weapons. And the fact, that Packilvania actively uses nuclear bombs convinced Lazlow, the he can not risk the lives of innocent lazlowians. Even an alliance of all countries can’t take Packilvania down after all. How could he alone.
Thus, Lazlowia settled, prepareing to send peacekeepers to Listonia.
Liberty City - The Blue House
The Spherical Office
“There is no chance of victory against the Pax Empire in an outright war,” Retired General Dennis Court stated flatly. The Blue House Defense Adviser never sugar-coated anything – especially when it came to violence. “That kind of conflict will be bloody, destructive, and could very likely mark the end of this nation.”
“A direct war is undoubtedly out of the question,” Chief of Staff Samantha McClellan agreed, “but action is surely necessary. The Pax cannot be allowed to expand freely. That kind of tolerance will only lead to further aggression – possibly even against this nation.”
“Let’s keep in mind that our economy is entirely reliant upon Pax trade,” Blue House Policy Director Soo-Hoon Ki quietly said. “Our manufacturing sector is booming because it buys Pax raw materials on the cheap, our agricultural sector is booming because it sells to Pax farmers at high prices. So if the Pax get defeated in a conflict with this alliance or even severely weakened, it could spell economic ruin.”
“So, then, how do we respond?” President Henrik Kroidrik asked. “We can’t attack the Pax because we’ll lose. We can’t do nothing because it’ll ultimately lead to a Pax invasion. And we can’t support this alliance because if they win, it’ll spell ruin for our economy. So what do we do?”
The room went silent for a few moments. It was interrupted by the person who usually said nothing during policy discussions – Communications Director John Goett. “I’ve got it!” The man stated, breaking out into a grin. “By golly, I’ve got it!”
The President raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Goett let the smile grow. “We support this alliance, covertly, thus building up relations with these countries. We help just enough so that the coalition can fight the Pax to a standstill. Then, we publicly broker a peace agreement, whereby the Pax return to original borders, and the invaded nation is allowed independence. That way, the Pax remain strong enough to keep supporting our economy, the Packilvanian aggression is contained, and we look great to everyone in the region.”
The room went silent. After a moment, the President spoke. “Wow, John. That is a plan I expect from a Kandarin, not a press secretary.”
McClellan laughed. “Yes, but, it could work. Its likely the best option available.” The rest of the advisers in the room nodded in agreement.
The President sighed. “Alright, then. Dennis, figure out how much aide to send, and how to get it there. Samantha, get in touch with Todd Leyuski, let him know that we cannot provide public support for political reasons, but that we’re willing to give covert aide.” Kroidrik stopped, looking to the only person who hadn’t spoke at all. “Assuming its possible, Damien?”
The Deputy Chief of Staff, Damien Swaim, nodded after a moment. “The Isolationists won’t like it, but, they’ve only one member on Foreign Affairs. So that should be easy. Armed Forces could be more difficult – the Liberty Party won’t approve of any direct troop involvement.”
“That’s fine,” Court stated, “we’ll just use FPIA couriers and keep away from combat areas.”
The President nodded. “Good, then. Let’s get to it. I’ve a dinner to attend.”
Somewhere in Tassavalta
The dew was still thick on the ground when the call to wake up went around the guerrilla camp. ‘Camp’ was perhaps a poor term for a collection of camouflaged tarps strung under some trees for concealment from air patrols, but the group’s equipment was modern enough even if its methods were crude.
Elise stepped outside of the nest of trees and watched the sun come up over the sheer plane of the Tassavaltan plains, its rise dispelling the thick mists with a mesmerizing speed unique to the area - “sheaving”, as the locals called it. This had been her routine ever since the death of the rest of her family, who had been in the capital at the time of the first attacks. She’d heard from a friend of a friend that resistance groups were growing, and they’d not turned away any able-bodied man or woman looking for revenge, even one who was seventeen years old. Ever since then, they’d been roaming around the countryside, raiding Pax-controlled farms for supplies and fighting patrols, tied together with other such groups via radio.
Today was a special day. Today the commander had woken them up with the news that unit #10, located on the great Walteese River, had spotted a Pax supply convoy coming down from the shiny new depot built at the headwaters. They were going to intercept it. Unfortunately, that meant a ten-mile march through open country, and if they were going to get there in time, they would have to get moving early.
Elise was placed in the front of the loose column, scouting the way with the other youngest recruits. Supplies and the heavy weapons crew would follow, including the all-important mortars. The whole group was strung out over an uncomfortably long distance, something the commander was always trying to correct. He never quite could - working true military discipline into a group like theirs was an eternal process. As the march progressed, dawn turned to morning turned to blazing midday. The sun shone over a bowl of golden farmland that seemed to stretch forever on one side of the horizon. But on the other, it crumbled away into forested river bluffs, the footprint of the many small brooks that fed the Walteese.
“Air patrol!” The voice was shrill, panicked; Elise hit the dirt, curling up in a ditch. The rest of the column scrambled to do so as well, with varying degrees of success. Everyone waited one minute, then two, and finally a pair of Pax atmospheric fighters sped overhead, the distinctive whine of their engines sending a shiver down everyone’s spine. There was always a pair, never just one. As abruptly as they’d appeared, they circled back as if looking for something, then forward. After a few tense minutes, they disappeared over the horizon and an audible sigh of relief could be heard.
The guerrillas’ timing was in error; they arrived, in fact, an hour before the first boat of the convoy poked its bow around the nearest visible curve of the river. This allowed for plenty of time to set up and conceal both mortars, albeit with the unpleasant discovery that they could only shoot about halfway across the river. The force waited, half-concealed, in the marshy shallows at the shore. Quickly, with a speed that seemed surreal for river transports, the convoy came into view - five large, nearly identical supply ships, clearly built for function and not for beauty. Programmed meshes of Pax alloys enclosed open holds filled nearly to bursting with supply packages. Food, most likely, destined for the massive population centers of the Packilvanian center. Four sailed out of range, but one was close enough to hit.
The first mortar shots went long, splashing into the water beyond the targeted ship. But the second and third firings struck true, as four shells burst in magnificent explosions. One was more magnificent than the rest, suggesting that something flammable had been hit in the hold. With the fourth firing, the ship veered sharply to port. The propulsion system was visibly damaged, and its superior engines were now working against it, sending it careening away from the rest and into the shallows - straight for the guerrillas.
And into the shallows it went, smashing on the river bottom with a sickening thud that sent mud flying everywhere. It was lodged in a way that left its deck almost flush with the water, but one mortar shell had blown a massive hole in the fore cabin. Elise and the rest of the skirmishers went for the first way in; the rest of the group ran for the second.
The skirmishers were the first over the side. The drones on deck were armed well enough, but they were new assimilees and flesh bled easily enough. The skirmishers had the advantage of speed and surprise, and cleared the deck with only a few casualties. They stopped to catch their breath, and that’s when several sounds became visible. The first was something like a jackhammer, which corresponded to a heavy turret to fore opening fire on the group headed for the mortar hole, which sent them scurrying to inferior cover. The second sound was a series of clanks in rapid succession, as more highly mechanized drones poured out of the aft cabin to meet the skirmishers on deck.
The third sound was the familiar engine whine of atmospheric fighters.
The firefight on deck was brief, bloody, and hopeless. The skirmishers scrambled for cover, but it didn’t help much against the heavy weapons of the drones. Particle beams blew away turrets, boxes, and hold mesh with contemptuous ease, and not forty seconds had passed before eight of the ten skirmishers lay dead to only one drone casualty out of nine. Elise watched in horror as the only other survivor’s head was blown clear off his shoulders by a well-placed shot, just before another turned her own cover to dust but left her alive - alive, but exposed to the guns of eight drones whose aim had been brutally efficient.
“PRAISE KEIGA!” Seemingly out of nowhere, a shining sword cleaved two drones in half at once. The unity of the drones was broken, as they turned away from Elise to face the man wielding the sword. He moved with amazing speed, seemingly unhindered by a suit of full plate armor emblazoned with a single golden teardrop. Every moment it took to bring their guns to bear cost them another drone to that swift sword. Only a single one stood ready to shoot him when he ducked closer to it and bodychecked it to the ground, scoring a final kill with a twist of the sword.
The engine whine was close now, terribly close. The man came running at Elisa and tackled her, bowling her over the side of the ship and into the far deep water. Immersed as they were, the boom of the Pax air patrol’s bombardment of the ship and the shore was still deafening. Elise felt herself tugged along by the man, who was…swimming, still apparently unhindered by his armor.
At last, they emerged dripping on the far shore. The ship smouldered, the planes having veered away to patrol elsewhere. The man stood, gasping for breath, and at last Elise got a good look at her savior. He was tall, not old but not young, with a handsome face, curly black hair, and an impeccably trimmed beard. “You…you saved me. Who are you?”
“Please, call me Dimitri. The storm is coming. You must come with me.”
Office of the Khagan-Chancellor - Executive Tower
Heart of Khanates Complex, Tkânâtdövâkhîâstâât
«Jânâ, pull out the direct connection to Hirakuton» Ânâtöl Êfösêbâd asked gently to his secretary in the corner. She swiveled her chair around a pulled a drawer in the file cabinet, the sides of which folded down to reveal a dusty telex machine. The secretary winced and blew the dust off the old telex machine and readied her fingers on the keys.
«The Dovakhanese people owe a great debt to the Packilvanian nation, this much is certain. You helped us pick up the ashes of our broken country and build anew. For this we are eternally grateful. However, the humanist sentiments of the Republic-Khanates and its people compel us to take the middle road of neutrality. Please understand our predicament.»
— Begin quote from ____
Whereas it appears that a state of war exists between Vekaiyu, Warre, and Anglic Jutland, of the one part, and Packilvania on the other; and the duty and interest of the Republic-Khanates require, that it should with sincerity and good faith adopt and pursue a conduct friendly and impartial toward the belligerant powers;
It has therefore been deemed fit by these presents to declare the disposition of the Republic-Khanates to observe the conduct aforesaid towards those Powers respectfully; and to exhort and warn the citizens of the Republic-Khanates carefully to avoid all acts and proceedings whatsoever, which may in any manner tend to contravene such disposition.
And be it also made known, that whatsoever of the citizens of the Republic-Khanates shall render himself liable to punishment or forfeiture under the law of nations, by committing, aiding, or abetting hostilities against any of the said powers, or by carrying to any of them those articles which are deemed contraband by the modern usage of nations, will not receive the protection of the Republic-Khanates.
Finally, no belligerent nor any foreign nation shall compromise the territorial integrity of the Republic-Khanates, irrespective of cause or concern. Such an action would threaten the fabric of international law and break the covenant of peace to which the Republic-Khanates has dedicated itself.
In the Name of the Republic-Khanates and Its People,
Ânâtöl Êfösêbâd
Khagan-Chancellor
— End quote
Dovakhanese-Packilvanian Friendship Assn.
Central Hirakuton, Packilvania
Dovakhanese diplomatic relations with the Packilvanian Empire were best described as unique. The Republic-Khanates owes the Pax a debt of gratitude for stepping in to save the Dovakhanese nation, but this successor government has been more than content to maintain ad hoc relations through the Dovakhanese-Packilvanian Friendship Association. This is partially because the informal relations allow the Dovakhanese government increased flexibility in its dealings with Tlant’s Hive Empire.
«Thank you for allowing me to speak with you, sir» said the Dovakhanese goodwill emissary to the Hive node he was corresponding with from his office inside the Dovakhanese compound in Hirakuton.
«Obviously you understand that this is not technically an official statement coming from the Khagan-Chancellor or the Department of Diplomacy, but I hope Tlant will receive my heartfelt opinion. The Dovakhanese are taking the neutrality position, ostensibly for philosophical reasons, but they are seriously uneasy about the recent actions. This recent assimilation causes our nominally humanitarian government to lose serious face, and it upsets the balance of power in the region. You can bet the major regional players are taking affirmative action, perhaps even covertly funding the coalition force. My suggestion would be to pretty this up in some way; consider making this a matter of self defense or some such nonsense. Then, give the newly-liberated nation some sort of nominal independence, invite the Red Cross, have a tea party. Please, just clean this up somehow» the emissary implored.
Andrei Pakhomov’s Residence, Orgolsk, Coocoobad Federal City
President Andrei Pakhomov had settled into his new home nicely. The official presidential residence(along with about 10 square blocks) had been condemned, in what was “West Coocoobad”. He was meeting with the new head of the Coocoostan Military, a general from the Air Defence Command named Fedoryshyn as well as his cabinet and a few of those individual’s advisers. “These…things, are right. The hive must be stopped,” the President was clear.
General Fedoryshyn was the first to object. “With all due respect Comrade President, the military is overwhelmed with it’s duties already. The FPS campaign rolled into Darrowmere, then Bai Lung and now the mainland territories. There’s simply no one who isn’t deployed, or in the post or pre phases. There’s nothing we can really do.”
Pakhomov was incensed. “What do you mean, there’s nothing you can do!? You’re the military, surely you can defeat these machines?”
Fedoryshyn spoke again," sir, the hive’s technology is roughly 500 years ahead of ours. There are literally billions of them. They continue to take what they feel they are entitled to and the day will likely come when we are next. But. They haven’t come within 100km of our border either on land or by air in twenty-five years…"
An aide piped up. “Twenty-five years?”
Fedoryshyn shot back. “That’s sensitive information. Look, at any rate, this action cannot proceed. If the vulpines want to get themselves killed, it’s their own problem, we’re already too bogged down in the failures of other nations.”
Prime Minister Nadia Tereshkova also spoke. “I agree with General Fedoryshyn, any military action against Packilvania, while morally attractive, is futile and could prove disastrous for our nation.”
Pakhomov spoke. “General. You will have a schedule drafted to send the maximum number of battalions available to assist in this effort, without taking away from other commitments. I expect this done within 48 hours. We are finished.”
The cabinet and advisors dispersed. Fedoryshyn was shown into his GAZ Chaika to be driven to the National Command Centre to begin the planning. As the VDV Junior Sergeant closed the door and walked around to start the car, Fedoryshyn used the secure car phone to place a call to Colonel-General Degtaryev, the head of the Coocoobad Garrison. “General, Pakhomov wants maximum involvement against the hive. We must move tonight.”
A pause answered. “Alright. We must make quick work. If Vityaz(presidential guard) get word of this, they will go ballistic on everyone. I’ll get Captain 1st Rank Mishkin on the phone, he can have his duty company of Naval Infantry here from Aubrey within 6 hours. I’ll have some people call in a few bomb threats and a school threat to keep CRPS(regional police) and CNP(national police) extra busy once they’re here. It’s me and you right now. Mishkin knows as much as he needs to and his men will do what they’re told, they’re pretty loyal.”
Fedoryshyn replied. “I will have the 7th infantry sent in from Marcy L’Etiole to aid civil power and stop the mutiny, we will secure the cabinet at their homes. By this point, you and Mishkin will be long gone. Pakhomov will be hustled to the airport and flown to safety in a country of his choosing, and we will install a new leader. Call Mishkin immediately. I will go to the Airport and set up a command centre at a hangar there.”
The plot finally had its catalyst and with that, it had begun.
***Tag Busy at the moment. Noi will invite conference of nations to discuss situation in neutral nation. Also, Pax Battle cruisers will begin to move through Jovian Gate. Noi proposes alliance To Infinite Loop secretly. Noi puts Chris Noe on alert for possible action and propaganda machine. *** Notes for self
Message sent to Noi via courier
"…In order to secure Packilvania frontlines, we mobilized the 801th division of our army to the mine lands border and they´ll proceed via mag-rail to Packilvania-Vekaiyu border upon your authorization. With them go some of our best experts on military fortifications and specialized equipment.
Kind regards,
Niklas von Drakken
Drakkengard army C-in-C…"
New Cuttersville
Chris sat at his desk with his head in his hands. He looked up and took a few aspirins. He had to look his best for the speeches he was going to give, and had to rile up the populace. He had work to do. He grabbed a link to the FPS news centers and began uploading his statements. *Propaganda on the Pax invasion. Pro Pax
Hikaruton
Noi stood looking out the window. It was hard to take in. Only one year ago she was a student at Shiro, and now she ruled the most powerful empire of the East Pacific. She turned away from it. ‘Down to buisness’ she thought as she connected to the Infinite Loop diplomatic link. She didn’t know if it still worked as it had not been used in years. She hoped to heal the rift caused way back in the Node wars. “Hello friends of the Loop state. I send greetings to you. I extend my hand in friendship and hope that we can re-open our embassies with each other…”
Jovian Gate
The planet collapsed at the center with a flash of light, and Pax warships began their movements into the Sol system.
Earth Orbit - Battlestar Galactica
Command and Control Center
The sensors officer spoke just loudly enough to be heard over the din of conversations eternally occurring in the nerve center of the ship. By the time the man finished, though, he could’ve been whispering given the silence of the room. “Admiral, I’ve got Jovian Gate activity, detecting multiple Pax warships, including flagship class vessels.”
For a few moments, the room remained deathly silent, until the commander of the massive vessel replied. “Set Condition One throughout the ship. Launch all fighters. Contact the Octagon, make sure they’re aware. This could be it, people.”
The ship’s staff immediately responded as the alarm went through the ships. Within a few minutes, the Galactica was battle-ready, its fighters in defensive position around it.
Liberty City - The Blue House
The Situation Room
Within minutes of the arrival of the Pax fleet, the President had been brought to the nerve center of the Blue House, along with his two top advisers. Very quickly, the President authorized an official objection to the sudden Pax military arrival to be issued, and ordered the nation’s military put on high alert. Beyond that, though, President Kroidrik did nothing. His nation wasn’t publicly involved in this conflict – he intended to keep it that way.
Aerospace Navy Defense Command
Eastrovia, East Malaysia
“We have finished our sensor sweep of the system, nothing new to,” one of the many Ops officers was informing his commanding officer before his console alarms started to go off. “I take that back Commander. I am reading multiple contacts of Packilvanian origin from what is known as the Jovian Gate.”
“On screen,” Commander Kelley said as he moved to the closest station and the readings along with a live feed came up. “Order the nearest starship to monitor from a safe distance and make sure private sector transportation ships change their planned flight path. Yellow Alert. Get the senior staff down to here now.”
(_ OOC: Whee. Yep. Still around. Been very busy tho 
_)