Steel Beams Can't Melt Cruise Missiles

“Alert, Alert, Alert,” were the constant words buzzing from the Skua (AV-8B Harrier) to it’s pilot. The jump jet was in a dog fight with a Genoshan Mig-29, but it wasn’t easy getting a solid lock with it’s wingman, a Mig-25 Foxbat was buzzing by trying to shoot the Rhodesian aircraft down.

“God! SHUT UP!” shouted a female felidae, as she kept trying to monitor both the Mig-29 she was wrestling with, and the Foxbat that kept screaming by at Mach Two. A rather unorthodox tactic adapted by the Genoshans, forming “Hunter-Killer” packs using what is left of their air force. The Foxbat got her two wingmates by surprise, first by outrunning the Skua and stranding it, the second by having the Fulcrum as the bait.

“Shit, that Nickle Plane is good,” she grunted, her g-suit inflating and deflating with each maneuver she took, sweat pouring from her body, and the constant struggle to suck in enough air to not black out. The ground flying by less than 50 feet away, some trees threatening to wipe out one of the jets in a giant ball of fire and metal shards. The Skua pilot finally reaches the prime position to hit the thrusters, pulling back the throttle and hitting the switch to turn it into vertical flight, the nozzles pointing downwards.

“Sweet dreams prince,” sneered the female as she heard the confirmed ping of a lock and then shouted, “FOX TWO!” A infared air to air missile ignited it’s rocket motor, leaving the Skua in a cloud of smoke and began chasing the Mig-29. With a resounding boom and a satisfying explosion, the enemy jet separated in half into forward and rear sections, the pilot could be seen ejecting. But now was not the time for celebration just yet, as the Mig-25 buzzed by, still trying to get a lock.

Zaura Hunt flicked the switch, reverting to normal flight, and slammed the throttle forward. She remembered her training to keep low as possible to give the Foxbat a hard time locking on. It was a design flaw present in all Foxbats, since the 80% Nickle Steel alloy plane was only meant to shoot high and fast flying targets. Yet, surprisingly, the Foxbat just hightailed it out, the afterburners were striking, even in the day time as the shock diamonds extended out longer than the plane itself. It went high and away, towards Hammer Bay.

Zaura sighed, finally able to take a breath as the massive interceptor became nothing more than a blip in the blue sky. A hand went up to flip the sunshade on her flight helmet up and take off the breathing mask. Breathing heavily and her flight suit drenched, she would be needing a long shower and a hot cot. Looking over to her left, visible scorch marks of jet engines flying so low were present, accompanied with wreckages of what were planes flying in the sky less than an hour ago. What were minutes, felt like hours to the pilot during the dog fight.

She counted eleven total wrecks, two of them were her wingmates who, thankfully, ejected. A Sea King helicopter could be seen in the distance trying to locate the Rhodesian Pilots and pick them up. Nine of the wrecks were Genoshans, two Mig-29s, four Mig-21s, and three Mig-23 Floggers. That was not counting the Mig-29 buddy of the Foxbat.

“God what engines,” growled Hunt as she turned back to base, a regional air base that was captured. She always heard of the Foxbats being fast, but it was another thing to see it in person, especially with a plane whose exhausts were large enough to swallow a Skua whole.

Several thousand protesters awaited Valintino Saar’bac when he arrived at the Blue House on Thursday afternoon. A sizable force of police officers held the demonstrators at bay as the Rhodesian diplomatic convoy passed, using riot shields to maintain a secure line. A dozen National Protection Agency officers escorted the Vice President the brief distance from his vehicle to the Blue House main entrance, ensuring his safety even within the secure executive complex. But neither shields nor fences could halt the sound of anti-war, anti-Rhodesian, and pro-Genoshan chants, at least, not until Saar’bac entered the Blue House itself. There, thick walls and reinforced glass blocked out the sound, though through the windows, Saar’bac could still see colorful signs denouncing his country’s foreign policy.

Julia Brenner met Saar’bac at the main entrance once again. After exchanging pleasantries, and after having an aide take Saar’bac’s rain jacket, Brenner led the Vice President back to the president’s office. Christopher Arctoris warmly greeted Saar’bac there, reintroducing him to Akagi Saburo and Vanessa Williams. Arctoris then led the group over to the arrangement of comfortable furniture across from his desk. The president motioned for Saar’bac to take a seat, then sat directly across from him, over the low coffee table. Williams sat next to Arctoris, while Saburo sat on a chair at a 90 degree angle to both Arctoris and Saar’bac. Brenner leaned against the president’s desk, standing directly across from Saburo, though a bit removed from the group.

“I am going to get straight to it, Mister President,” Arctoris said severely, “my government will not be able to back yours when it comes to this invasion. FPS and Rhodesia have close relations, and we value those relations. And, having reviewed the intelligence you provided, we accept that you genuinely believe the Genoshans are culpable here. We also appreciate you providing that information, and in turn, I’ve instructed our Intelligence Director to make any relevant information we have available to you. But ultimately, given that your government did not take the time to directly link these attacks to the Genoshans, given that your government turned directly to violence without any diplomatic effort, and given that your government acted so quickly…we simply cannot endorse this action.”

“But I am hopeful that our nations can still remain close,” Arctoris continued, “and while FPS will be continuing its condemnation of the invasion, we will not be joining in any efforts to sanction your country, and we will not be joining in any effort to provide refuge to Genoshan officials. And, once you have setup a new government in Genosha, we have every intention to recognize it. We must, on principle, condemn this – but we understand why you are acting, we sympathize, and we are not going to take any real action that would get in your way.”

The two hundred pound Vice President sat down, his muscles relaxed in his suit, now a black pinstripe, this time with black loafers. He looked to President Arctoris while silently listening. Nodding along as to give the impression that he is fully understanding what is being said.

After the reasoning was given, Saar’bac responded calmly, “It is perfectly reasonable President Arctoris, to take that stance. After all, you are doing what is in the best interests of your nation, no?”

Val continued, “As to the rather harsh and rapid decision, think of it as the straw that finally broke the Camel’s back,” referring to a very old tale on Urth. He breathed in slowly before resuming, “We are simply doing what is necessary for the better. My people already see that there are those who do not understand the gravity of the situation that so rapidly throw themselves in one boat. While our actions are harsh, we believe it is justifiable. There must be people willing to commit despicable acts in order to maintain the peace, or at least bring peace. Even I know this myself from the years fighting for my nation in the Bush Wars and the years as a mercenary afterwards.”

In a rather ironic twist of fate, it was the truth, and a rare moment when Val gives his true intentions and who he really is. He further stated, “The Federal Republic of Rhodesia will understand your position, and it does not seek to sour relations. We have nothing to gain by stabbing a close friend in the back. As to the new government, it will be difficult to prevent further terrorist attacks in the future going that route.”

“What is planned instead is to initiate a occupation for a considerable few years. We wish to better the lives of the Genoshans and prevent radicals from flourishing. President Heleck, Congress, and I are pushing to uplift those who seek nothing more than to live normal lives. There are drafted plans to build hospitals and schools, which have been lacking in areas around Genosha. We also plan to rebuild homes that have been destroyed in the destruction. On top of that, we will allow the Genoshans after a while to decide if they wish to join us, or to be a independent nation. Rhodesia is strong enough to do that, although I fear the soon to be coming sanctions from other nations will hinder progress. We may have shrugged off the previous sanctions, but we are not invincible.”

Val stood up and extended a handshake, while saying, “As one last favor from such a gracious host, the Federal Republic of Rhodesia wishes that the Free Pacific States send the necessary files we have given, to the other concerned nations. I feel that other countries will be more receptive of such documents from an esteemed member of Urth, instead of Rhodesia. I have naturally deliberated with Marion against this, but she feels that it is for the best.”

“We will absolutely do so, and we will also release a statement indicating my administration’s belief in the genuineness of your motives,” Arctoris said, relaxing somewhat given Saar’bac’s unemotional response, “as to your plans for Genosha…well, we won’t be getting in your way, for certain. So far as we are concerned, once the invasion is complete, actions in Genosha will be a matter of your internal affairs, which are none of our business.”

“Thankfully so, this is to be a major turning point in Rhodesian history,” replied the Vice President. “From here our children and children’s children can actually walk the streets, and live life normally without fear anymore. To be honest, it was a wonder that those years of peace after the Bush Wars happened. This is a more permanant peace.”

He sighed, “I am afraid I must take my leave, I again, thank you for being so willing as to help share the data, despite the backlash it might have.” He still held out a handshake to conclude the business for today. With a final addition, “President Arctoris, if you ever find yourself in Rhodesia, on or not on official business, do not be afraid to contact me. I am willing to be host to an esteemed colleague. I am sure you will find the liberties to be had in my country to be quite enjoyable.”

Rourk moved from cover to cover, as sounds of machine gun fire erupted in the distance. The whines of mortar rounds falling from the heavens could be heard, followed by an explosion that reverberated off the buildings and between the streets. Some buildings had sections blown off by nearby MGS Strykers, efforts to eliminate snipers and Anti-Armor crew situated there.

Rourk crouch ran between one side of a street to the next. Weaving between a wrecked Stryker and a Genoshan tank that was blown up, the turret now resting on top of a nearby building. A loud boom could be heard in the distance, followed by a ping nearby. Rourk shouted, “SNIPER!” The instinctual call for the rest of the squad to take cover took effect. Hiding behind anything that could resist bullets best.

Rourk took cover in an alleyway. Standing there for a few seconds until a second shot rang out, then third, and then the fourth. “Jesus, this guy is an amateur. A trained pro would have waited, then took his shot,” was the exact thought flowing through his mind. He leaned out with his FAL at the ready, and fired a few shots at the area where the sniper would be.

Down the street was a four story building, with windows blown out and a few holes where HE rounds impacted. Rounds could be seen hitting the walls, making puffs of smoke as 100 gran .243 Winchesthair bullets screamed at 3,000 feet per second before impact. The rest of the squad followed suit, peppering the entire section with FMJ rounds. Rounds came out at a steady stream from the squad’s Machine Gunner, his personally modified MG3 spewing nothing but hatred at 2,000 rounds per minute. A showstopping fire rate that would make it’s father, the MG42 proud and upholding the legend of the “Buzzsaw.”

Within six seconds, the two hundred round drum of the MG3 ran dry, forcing the Machine Gunner to take cover and reload. The other members of the eight man squad kept unloading their FALs into the building. While the Designated Marksmen took position a little further back and looked through the eight power scope. Rourk, knowing what was up, shouted, “CEASE FIRE!”

The DM had propped against a mailbox, his full length rifle with a 20 inch barrel, and picatinny rail dust cover hosting the eight power scope. After what a minute could be considered an hour, the marksman spotted the sniper. But he didn’t pull the trigger. The image through the scope horrified him, as it was a fourteen year old teenager aiming a Dragunov. The Marine would later make the decision that would result in his downfall, one fueled by alcohol, drugs, and finally a gun. With a simple pull of the trigger, his face remained like stone. The weight of killing what is essentially a child weighed on him.

Seeing the face of his squad member told Rourk that something was up, but he would never find out until months later from a suicide note. The DM looked at him and nodded, signalling it was done. Rourk shouted, “Squad! Form on Me!” He turned around to the alleyway and jogged. His squad followed shortly.

[hr]

The battle for Hammer Bay was estimated to rage on for two days. The goal was to capture the heads of state who were still confirmed to be at the capitol. The street fighting was brutal, doors being kicked in, walls being blown out, and streets being wrecked from the destruction. The reconstruction costs only continued to climb, as more and more people were displaced. Unknowingly to the general public, Wey-Yu Industries stood a lot to gain from the soon to be massive sales of Pre-Fab structures, and the efforts to further improve upon the military lessons. The Defense Industry of Rhodesia was going to enjoy the biggest payday they have ever had, along with their mysterious organizers and investment members from across the globe.

((OOC: I have built the Genoshan Air Force to be akin to the Syrian Arab Air Force, just so you guys and girls know.))

Inside a hanger, a Mig-31 could be seen resting on it’s legs, standing next to it’s predecessor, the Mig-25 Foxbat. The floors were white and the sheen could be seen from quite a distance. The main doors of the hanger were open, revealing the night sky, while multiple service members and officers stood there, blocking the exit. It was a sight of awe, to see such a massive and impressive interceptor that the Rhodesians had nothing but combat experience with. Now they were at the precipice of gaining a massive advantage in aeronautical technology. The Foxhound had speeds up to Mach 3, speeds that would smash the Rhodesian jets on the straight and narrow.

As the service members and officers lined the hanger exit, a team of analysts could be seen looking around the planes. What was more interesting was the fact that Val Saar’bac stood there, back from his trip in the Free Pacific States. The Vice President admired the planes, thinking up of ideas to put these new found pieces of flying hunk to use. The Air Marshal could be seen, walking from the analysts and towards the Vice President, he didn’t stop until he was almost face to face with his superior.

“Interesting development no?” the Air Marshal asked looking straight into Val’s eyes.

“Most definitely. Intelligence only reported that Mig-25s were the most formidable planes in Genoshan inventory. I wonder where they got the Foxhound from,” said Val, as his hands were in the creme colored suit pants, the suit jacket undone and flowing.

“The analysts say that it’s not domestic production. They suggest Prussia, but Prussia doesn’t really make hardware like this.”

“Agreed,” said Saar’bac as he continued eyeing the planes. “Could be the neighbors further south, and how many of these do we have?”

“Papers on that little island we knocked out confirmed that there are eight total Foxhounds, and 38 Foxbats, eight of the Foxbats being recon. We took sub-munitions and blew the crap out of the airstrip, leaving the jets stranded on the ground during the initial blitz. Marines came in and mopped up any ground forces there were that fought. Lots of high value individuals though that surrendered. On the island were seven Foxbats, two recon Foxbats, and three Foxhounds. A rather hefty payday for the intel team.”

“I’m sending a Foxhound and two Foxbats to the Free Pacific States.”

The Marshal baulked, “But why?”

“For political reasons, but we are at a very precarious stage where the rest of the world might try to intervene. I want the Free Pacific States to gain something out of this for not meddling. After all, we should be thankful for having such a powerful friend. We are only sweetening the pot for them.”

The Marshal then stood there for a few seconds, the face of shock went away and he realized. The response that came forth was rather calm, “I see, well I will send the data gathered with the jets. A message will be sent to the FPS higher ups. They will have to be sent via ship. Which I can convene with the Grand Admiral to spare a few frigates and a sub for protection.”

“Good, now I will let you disassemble them and provide copies of the relevant documents to me.”

The Vice President took out a cigar, and begun lighting it. After a minute, puffs of smoke could be seen flowing into the air as the analysts started dissembling it. The cheetah took his steps back and turned around, having to deal with other matters.

One of the analysts tasked with compiling the reports stood at a table inside the same hanger. She typed, in her olive drab coveralls, stained with grease and oil. Her cheetah-like face furrowed as the words on the text were being edited.

[spoiler]

Subsequent analysis revealed a simple-yet-functional design with vacuum-tube electronics, two massive turbojet engines, and sparing use of advanced materials such as titanium. The MiG-25 series has an unknown production run, estimates put it over the thousand range. The MiG-25 flew with a number of nations such as Genosha and it remains in limited service in several nations.

The MiG-25 ‘Foxbat’, despite panic about its tremendous performance, made substantial design sacrifices in capability for the sake of achieving high speed, altitude, and rate of climb. It lacked maneuverability at interception speeds, was difficult to fly at low altitudes, and its thirsty turbojet engines resulted in a very short combat range at supersonic speeds. The MiG-25’s speed gauge was redlined at Mach 2.8, and pilots were instructed not to top Mach 2.5 in order to preserve the engines. Achieving the MiG-25’s maximum speed of Mach 3.2 would result in the destruction of the engines.

The MiG-25’s radar is also powerful enough to burn through the electronic countermeasures (ECM) of enemy aircraft. The radar’s power system operated on vacuum tubes, which may seem odd to observers and nations utilizing solid state electronics, but their use was very practical and served them well, including reduced susceptibility to damage from the electromagnetic pulses generated by nuclear explosions. Nonetheless, the Foxbat proved to be more useful in the reconnaissance role than as an interceptor. Such evidence points to eight of the thirty eight Genoshan Foxbats being built purely with recon tasks.

  • The aircraft was assembled very quickly, and was essentially built around its massive Tumansky R-15(B) turbojets.

  • Welding was done by hand and construction was relatively crude. Rivet heads were left exposed in areas that would not adversely affect aerodynamic drag.

  • The aircraft was built of a nickel-steel alloy and not titanium as was assumed (though some titanium was used in heat-critical areas). The steel construction contributed to the craft’s massive 64,000 lb (29,000 kg) unarmed weight.

  • The majority of the on-board avionics were based on vacuum-tube technology, not solid-state electronics. Seemingly obsolete, vacuum tubes were actually more tolerant of temperature extremes, thereby removing the need for providing complex environmental controls inside the avionics bays. In addition, the vacuum tubes were easy to replace in remote northern airfields where sophisticated transistor parts may not have been readily available. The MiG-25 was designed to be as rugged as possible. Also, the use of vacuum tubes makes the aircraft’s systems more resistant to an electromagnetic pulse, for example after a nuclear blast.

  • Thanks to the use of vacuum tubes, the MiG-25’s ‘Foxfire’ radar had enormous power about 600 kilowatts.

  • The airspeed indicator was redlined at Mach 2.8, with typical intercept speeds near Mach 2.5 in order to extend the service life of the engines. An Genoshan MiG-25 was tracked flying at Mach 3.2 in 2015, but the flight had resulted in the destruction of its engines.

  • Maximum acceleration (g-load) rating was just 2.2 g (21.6 m/s²) with full fuel tanks, with an absolute limit of 4.5 g (44.1 m/s²). One MiG-25 withstood an inadvertent 11.5 g (112.8 m/s²) pull during low-altitude dogfight training, but the resulting deformation decommissioned the airframe.

  • Combat radius was 186 miles (300 km), and maximum range on internal fuel (at subsonic speeds) was only 744 miles (1,200 km). In fact, during a combat flight, a intercepted Mig-25 retreated after failing to successfully shoot down an RAe Skua.[/spoiler]

She finally wrapped up the brief summary of the Foxbat, followed by numerous pages of data that describe the specifications in so much more detail. Her focus now turned to the reports of the Foxhound, compiling once again and editing.

[spoiler]
Like the MiG-25, the Foxhound is a large twin-engine aircraft with side-mounted air intakes, a shoulder-mounted wing with an aspect ratio of 2.94, and twin vertical tailfins. Unlike the Foxbat, it has two seats, with the rear occupied by a dedicated weapon systems officer.

The wings and airframe of the MiG-31 are stronger than those of the MiG-25, permitting supersonic flight at low altitudes. Its Aviadvigatel D30-F6 turbofans, rated at 34,000 pounds thrust, (also described as “bypass turbojets” due to the low bypass ratio) allow a maximum speed of Mach 1.23 at low altitude. High-altitude speed is temperature-redlined to Mach 2.83. The thrust-to-drag ratio is sufficient for speeds in excess of Mach 3, but such speeds pose unacceptable hazards to engine and airframe life in routine use.

Given the MiG-31’s role as Mach 2.8 interceptor and the sustained afterburning this requires, its fuel consumption is higher when compared to other aircraft serving in different roles, such as the Su-27 variant in service with the Vekaiyun Union. As a result, the aircraft’s fuel fraction has been increased to more than 16,350 kg (36,050 lb) of high-density T-6 jet fuel. The outer wing pylons are also plumbed for drop tanks, allowing an extra 5,000 liters (1,320 gallons) of external fuel. Current example aircraft captured have aerial refueling probes.

Despite the stronger airframe, the Foxhound is limited to a maximum of 5 g at supersonic speeds. At combat weight, its wing loading is marginal and its thrust to weight ratio is favorable. However, it is not designed for close combat or rapid turning.

The MiG-31 is a fighter with a passive electronically scanned array radar, the Zaslon S-800. Its maximum range against fighter-sized targets is approximately 200 km (125 mi), and it can track up to 10 targets and simultaneously attack four of them with its long range air-to-air missiles. It has limited astern coverage (perhaps the reason for the radome-like protuberance above and between the engines). The radar is matched with an infrared search and tracking (IRST) system in a retractable undernose fairing. Up to four MiG-31s, spaced up to 200 km (125 mi) apart to cover a wide swath of territory, can coordinate via datalink. Such a capability comes shocking.

However, the current captured Foxhounds come with Zaslon-M passive electronically scanned phased array radar (PESA) with larger antenna and greater detection range (said to be 400 km (250 mi) against AWACS-size targets) and the ability to attack multiple targets -air and ground- simultaneously. The back-seater’s controls are replaced with modern MFDs. Its electronic countermeasures capabilities have also been upgraded, with new ECM pods on the wingtips.

The aircraft is a two-seater with the rear seat occupant controlling the radar. Although cockpit controls are duplicated across cockpits, it is normal for the aircraft to be flown only from the front seat. The pilot flies the aircraft by means of a center stick and left hand throttles. The rear cockpit has only two small vision ports on the sides of the canopy. It is argued that the presence of the WSO (Weapon Systems Operator) in the rear cockpit improves aircraft effectiveness since he is entirely dedicated to radar operations and weapons deployment. This decreases the workload of the pilot and increases efficiency.

Both cockpits are fitted with zero/zero ejection seats which allow the crew to eject at any altitude and airspeed.

The MiG-31’s main armament is four Long Range Air-To-Air Missiles (LRAAMs) carried under the belly. LRAAMs can be guided in semi-active radar homing (SARH) mode, or launched in inertial guidance mode with the option of mid-course updates from the launch aircraft and switching to SARH for terminal guidance. A more advanced version of the LRAAMs captured, features folding stabilizers to reduce its stored size.

Unlike the MiG-25, the MiG-31 has an internal cannon, a six-barrel, 23 mm GSh-6-23 with 800 rounds of ammunition, mounted above the starboard main landing gear bay. The GSh-6-23 has a rate of fire of over 10,000 rounds per minute.

It is the heaviest interceptor in Rhodesian Records, with a maximum takeoff weight on 56 tonnes.
[/spoiler]

Now exhausted, she waves to a nearby Marine tasked with guarding the hanger. Handing him the laptop, nothing else needed to be said, for he took it and went to the Command Center for transmitting to the Free Pacific States. The felidae looked around, grease and oil marks present all over the hanger. Parts strewn all over in a rather organized manner. To her right the frame of the Foxhound and Foxbat stood there, hoisted by chains and padding to the roof of the hanger. To her left she saw the closed doors of the hanger, and went out through a small opening made for aircrew.

Once outside the hanger through the normal door, she saw a Foxhound and Foxbat flying in formation. Genoshan mechanics and pilots stood there, in Rhodesian coveralls. They talking more with Rhodesian military crews, sharing and teaching information in a very casual manner as they looked up.

“God, the Incentives Program must have been very generous,” she said out loud. Unaware of the fact that the Vice President stood there next to here.

“Indeed,” he said while the Navy Airwoman had a face of shock and saluted at attention. “At Ease.”

She stopped saluting and resumed her casual manner of standing, still a bit in shock that the Vice President sneaked up on her. She asked, “What are you doing here Sir?”

“Talent hunting primarily,” Val said, this time in more casual clothing than the usual suit and tie. He wore a hawaiian shirt, with a few top buttons undone, revealing his muscular torso. On his face, rather expensive five hundred dollar sunglasses with amber tinted lenses could be seen. Sand colored cargo pants were completed by brown loafers. One could say that he wore the perfect clothing for the day’s weather, the sun being out, and temperatures hitting the high 80’s. Some clouds dotted the skies, but it was a beautiful day at Fort Anaston.

“You aren’t here for the Genoshans are you?” she asked again.

“Nope, already convinced them to join our side. Here for something else,” he said, watching the dots in the sky.

“Ok, why me?”

Val chuckled, “Smart girl, your psych profile suggested your alliances are not at very strong ties with your nation.”

Zaura Hunt was taken aback at first, then a defensive tone came out, “How you know that?”

“It’s my job to know things, despite public opinion,” he said, still looking at the sky. “I’m coming to you for a employment opportunity, I only want the best, and your combat experience fighting the Mig-25 a few days ago proved just that. Especially how it managed to take down two of your wingmates.”

“I’m flattered Sir, but it’ll be a few more years until I can say yes and work for you,” she said, humbled.

“Say yes, and you will be looking at a massive paycheck every week. The contract that you signed with the military can be revised to the day your employment with us starts. Which I’m sure as you know, the Military-Industrial complex can do. We give kickbacks and benefits in return, quite a beneficial relationship if you think of it,” he nodded, this time looking at Hunt, the soon to be employee.

“Then what? I am not particularly looking forward to flying cargo planes across the globe,” she said in a rather humorous manner.

Saar’bac stood there, now laughing while Hunt raised an eyebrow. It ended with a sigh. “Well, I’m glad to know that the secrets are being kept. No, I am not coming to you with an opportunity to fly cargo planes in and out of nations. I’m giving you an opportunity to be a Fighter Pilot for Hire, working for our shell companies.”

Without a doubt in her mind, Zaura said yes. It was a massive improvement over the crap of paperwork and meager pay. She really wanted something that would be an upgrade over her lifestyle. Now looking at massive paychecks, bonuses, and a lifetime of adventure, she looked forward to. Both figures concluded their business with a handshake. Val looked at her in the eyes, “Great, now remember this. You will meet your new wingmates in the Weapons Hanger, from there, you will take the company plane to the corporate islands. The plane will be here by midnight. As we speak, you are now cleared from service. Gather your bags and make your way. Miss the plane and your employment is terminated. Got it?”

“Yes Sir,” were the words that came from Hunt’s mouth. It was a major step in her life, excited to know that it was going somewhere. Val took his leave and walked towards the Command Center.

Rourk stood there, amongst the cheering marines. Hammer Bay was now taken by the Rhodesian military. The man stood there, looking at the capitol building, seemingly unscathed by the siege for unknown reasons. Some say it was divine intervention, others believe that it was never the goal of Rhodesia or Genosha to damage such a historically important structure. Several government officials of Genosha were lead out by the front doors in a nervous manner, not knowing what to do or how to think.

The sun was blocked out by clouds, but the damage to Hammer Bay could be seen. The war was not yet won, but the officials who surrendered are the tipping point. In the center of Genosha stood a fort, the last area still under control by Genoshan forces. It was estimated that for five years, they could hold out, five years of fighting that could not be afforded. It would take nothing less, than a public announcement by the still standing leaders of the fractured country to announce surrender.

As the officials were being escorted by marines through the plaza,where a Stryker APC awaited. Along with a convoy of other APCs to carry the officials to the docks of Hammer Bay. General “Mad Dog” Lex was waiting there, to act as the host and travel with them towards Camp Sand via ship. The Military didn’t want to risk Air-Travel, as “Fort Indomitable” still stood. At the docks awaited a Frigate with accommodations set aside for VIPs.

After a half hour of preperation, the ship left. It steamed towards the open sea to meet up with the rest of the First Fleet.

“What do you mean we had a 2:1 ratio?” asked Saar’bac.

“With how the war is so far, we had a kill to loss ratio of two of their planes for every one of ours,” stated one of the Intelligence analysts.

Val sat there, his face in a furry hand. He sat in a leather chair in a conference room. Around the table a few high ranking officers of the Navy, Marines, and Air Force could be seen. The table was crowded with manila folders, binders, coffee cups, water glasses, and service caps. What has been going on the past few hours was military analysts briefing their Vice President on the costs of the Genoshan-Rhodesian War.

The cheetah got up and started walking around the table, hands in pockets and looking at the floor. It was until a few steps later did he stop to look at the officers. He spoke, “We have Air-To-Air missiles missing at a percentage of 25%, mostly because enemy pilots are outmaneuvering it. On top of that, our Skua’s (AV-8B Harriers) have no gun pods mounted as standard procedure. Who the hell’s idea was it to have Gun-less planes?”

“Ummm, Sir,” spoke one of the Navy officers, “It was on Ronald Sung’s initiative that missiles take over guns on planes.”

“Of course it’s that prick of a former Secretary of Defense. God I always hated that bastard, good riddance,” remarked Val. “The numbnuts was a brick flyer strapped with nothing but missiles. It was only good that we never have been in a major war since the Colonial Disputes.”

After a few minutes of silence with the Vice president still standing in place, he continued walking again, “Now we have a four to one kill to loss ratio on the ground, right?”

“That is correct Sir,” said a Marine Officer, in his recently pressed camo BDUs.

“Progress, but not the kind we are hoping for,” replied the VP, extending a finger into the air. “What can we do to improve the odds?”

“Well, there is always helmets, but our marines kept dumping them over complaints of them being too heavy. In hot conditions, they always preferred boonie hats,” said another Marine officer, sporting a scar that ran over his left eye.

“Lighter helmets then. What about the Navy planes then? We are facing far more formidable planes than expected. Our intelligence was almost on spot but they dropped the ball with the Mig-31. But that’s not the issue, the issue is that we are using a 80’s built plane that has been upgraded through the years of service. We are fighting a nation armed with planes from the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s, that are severely behind the Skuas in technology, but their pilots managed to give us a run for our money. We need a program to train our pilots harder, to achieve the impossible.”

One Navy Officer spoke, in his white uniform, “Well, there has been a bit of interest for a intense training school for selected pilots. One member started calling it TOP GUN, but we think he has been watching the Vekaiyun film, Askrovoyori, too many times.”

“I like it, a dedicated school for top pilots of their respective squadrons, to learn, and to spread the knowledge of their training. But let’s change the name,” Val said, smiling, “I’m thinking more along the lines of Miramar. Easier to remember, plus it’ll give the foreign intel teams hell to figure out it’s not an acronym.”

The cheetah continued, “Now, we need a new Navy fighter jet. The Skuas are good at their job of ground attack, but they suck in air combat.”

An Admiral added in, “If we are to go with a fighter jet, we need a ship capable of launching it. STOVL aircraft like the Skuas are hindered by their very nature.”

“Can’t argue with that,” mused Saar’bac, “But that brings up the serious issue, we need to push for closer ties with the Free Pacific States, and possibly the Vekaiyun Union. Which is why, out of goodwill, I have also had the documents regarding the MiG-25 and MiG-31 sent to them via unofficial channels. After the results of finding more grounded MiGs, things are looking up.”

“Now, for serious air superiroity in the mean-time,” Val said, looking at the Air Force members.

One of the members took his que and spoke in turn, “We have our Copperheads (F-16 C/D Falcons) moved to to the captured Air Bases. Some air bases, however, are in irreparable state. So there will be a few gaps until the runways are fixed, thanks to the SeaBees. And we have recently received our first orders of the F-111G Aardvarks. Pilots are still test flying the planes but they like how it runs.”

The Air Force Officer then continued, “Test bombing has been very successful, along with the Slamahawk testing of the captured Genoshan boats. However, we have also brought up concerns that the Navy is interested in.”

The Admiral then spoke up, “Since the Aardvarks have been very promising in it’s tests, the Navy is interested in a carrier-capable version, if we ever do get an Aircraft Carrier. Also, with the downing of the P-3 AWACs above Fort Indomitable, there has been a stressed need for an Electronics Warfare plane. Since Wehrner Noah Enterprise sells what we are looking for, we figured we could manufacture them here under license, and utilize Wey-Yu Industry.”

Val perked his ears and said, “Do it, push for it hard. I will be busy with trying to negotiate with the politicians on the reconstruction efforts, but it’s up to you all to push for the programs. Don’t be afraid to ask the Free Pacific States or other nations for help when you do get what is needed to make it happen.”

Rourk was with his squad inside a rather large bank. The Genoshan National Reserve, home to the nation of Genosha’s reserves of valuables that kept their currency afloat, at least until before the invasion when it made a serious dip in value.

In the controlled zones small towns and villages have resorted to using the Rhode, since it was the only currency on hand that still held value. Another major factor was that Army and Marine Rhodesians used the Rhode to buy any necessary supplies, fuel, or other amenities. Fuel was a huge issue, especially due to Strykers running out of it before they even reached the front lines. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and it was to use the local gas stations or buying diesel from nearby farms. Stores were happy to see marines or soldiers come walking in, planning on buying bags of chips, or drinks, or random crap.

Rourk stood at the side of a massive room. The front doors were wide open, with chains running through and connecting to jerry-rigged mounts on the bank vault, easily stretching up to two stories high. Navy SeaBees were busy moving their equipment and arc welders out of the way. After spending hours prepping the vault door for removal, it was nigh time that the truth be revealed.

After a minute of safety checks, a Special Activities Division agent stood at the ready. The figure dressed in jeans, combat boots, had a t-shirt, and wore a plate carrier. His mouth spoke into a mic, giving the signal to the two strykers awaiting outside to pull the chains. The engines went from idiling to full on fury, the massive chains that could be used for ship anchors tightened. The sound of metal groaning could be heard a block or two away, then followed by a sigh. The locking mechanism finally giving up after hours of weakening by arc welders.

The massive rectangular door came off the internal hinges, sliding out a few feet upright until the top started tipping. The screeching of metal on marble floors made some marines wince. Then, it fell, a loud resounding boom as the 150 ton barrier slammed against the floor, kicking up dust and debris. Outside the bank, a massive tan cloud could be seen rushing out of the broken windows and doors.

Rourk and his men were tasked with finding the missing Rhodesian gold, marked with a Southern Gold Eagle and having a 99.9999% purity imprint. After a few minutes of the dust subsiding he turned on his rifle flashlight, and went into the open passageway. His squad following suit. The vault started off with deposit boxes lining the sides of the entryway like a shopping mart. Their orders were to leave personal deposits alone, anyone found trying to access or obtain personal items were to be flogged, dishonorably discharged, and spend life in prison. After a few more yards of checking the aisles, it opened up to a three story opening that went down. In front of Rourk was obviously a heavy duty elevator meant for transporting valuables.

Inside the elevator was a pallet and pallet loader, gold bars occupying it. Upon closer inspection as the squad leader moved in, he could see that it was only stacked to three feet high, but it was the markings that had him feeling like a winner. Each bar had a symbol of the Southern Gold Eagle, the national animal of Rhodesia. Underneath the eagle was a marking that said, “99.9999%”.

— Begin quote from ____

The Rhode Reader

Ceasefire Called!

Over the surrender of the Genoshan Heads of States, remnants of the state’s military has spent the past week holed up in a impenetrable military complex known as “Fort Indomitable.” It is said that there are enough supplies within the complex to last five years, after repeated attempts of trying to gain control.

Tired of the fighting and seeing the near end, the Genoshan Remnants inside the fort has agreed to the Rhodesian Armed Forces’ call for a cease fire. The Cease Fire was agreed upon by the desire to prevent any more unnecessary bloodshed on both sides. Some say it is the nearing of a Declaration of Surrender that is a leading factor. Not much is known at this point, but more information will be found.

— End quote

“Mad Dog” Lex was finished reading the news segment from a laptop, sitting at a table inside of a tent. He had arrived a little early thanks to the calm seas. The Heads of States were in Camp Sand and given proper accommodations until it was time for the official surrender. Opposite of him was a Genoshan general, wearing a tan colored uniform with a white band that went across his torso. He spoke up, “Well Lex, anything of interest?”

“Oh nothing new, just a day old and all that crap Karl,” replied the General of the Marines, in his BDUs, unlike his opposition.

“Figured so, so now what?”

“Nothing for now, until they get an actual declaration of surrender out. In the meantime, we have our politicians debating on the reconstruction costs and efforts.”

“Ahhh,” sighed the Genoshan, “well what about my men?”

Lex sat there for a few seconds before opening his mouth to answer, “Well, we don’t want to alienate the Genoshan people. Last thing we want is to create a semblance of vengeance to be had. What is left of the Genoshan military will be sorted out and potentially absorbed. Each soldier has a choice, they can join us, or head home. No consequences of the sort.”

“Weird, I’d expected you to be more harsh or unforgiving, considering that some of my men have killed yours.”

“Your men only answered the call of duty, and that of itself is not a crime. To fight for one’s nation is considered an honor in Rhodesia.”

Karl sat there and chuckled, fortunate to have such kind soon-to-be victors. After a few minutes of silence and looking out a tent flap, he focused his attention back to the Rhodesian. “I heard about the missiles.”

“Yes, and as natural I would suspect that it was an ultra-nationalist faction within your government that caused it.”

“Yes, considering that there are still those who were formerly members of the Genoshan Party of Brotherhood who occupy high positions. I’m afraid I must ask, but what would be done with them?”

“And that, would be above my pay-grade my friend. Honestly, there could be a firing squad, or there could be life imprisonment. I’m leaning towards firing squad, especially after Cape Hope. I only hope that there are as few as possible involved.”

Outside the tent, some cheers and boos could be heard. Lex got up on his boots and checked outside the window flap. He could see Genoshans and Rhodesians playing Rugby with each other in the evening sun. He finally looked towards his talking companion and said, “Funny how war is.”

“That can be said my friend. One day one side could be calling for blood, the other day that side wants peace. Only seems natural considering how we beings are.”

“True, true,” the marine said nodding his head in agreement.

“Although I do know there are some of my men back at the fort who refused to come, out of rage or vengeance.”

“Same on my side. It’s a long road of healing that needs to be done,” said Lex. He then asked, “Say, what are your plans after this?”

The Genoshan looked a bit surprised and then smiled, “Well, I always did want to live the rest of my life on a ranch with the wife. Breed rabbits and cows. What about you? You have a wife to live the rest of your life with in a certain manner?”

The question hit a rather sensitive topic with the General of the Marines, one that brought forth watery eyes and sadness. After a moment of silence, he responded, “I lost mine in Cape Hope.” With those words he looked outside the same window flap.

“Oh,” said Karl in sudden realization, then came forth a apologetic tone, “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine, you were not responsible for it…” he trailed off. After several minutes, Lex resumed, “I never had a time of mourning for Lysett. But after this war, I’m turning in my resignation forms. I’ve given everything to my country through the years, it’s nigh time I have the rest of my years for myself.”

“I’m… Actually surprised you don’t have my head on a pike by now.” said the other general.

“We Rhodesians have a code of honor,” Lex replied. “We may be brutal fighters spurred by vengeance, but we never commit atrocities or brutality. On the outside we may be brash, rough, cold. But deep down inside we have a heart, and genuinely care about others. Whether it be people, groups, or nations. We are the pariahs of the world, we have nations that condemn us, that sanction us. Even the people of our closest thing to an ally condemn us for our actions for doing the right thing, for our people. For an actual peace.” A single tear could be seen flowing over his cheekbone.

“A misunderstood nation…” said Karl.

“Yes,” said Lex, “We have never been involved in a major conflict since the Colonial Wars. The battles which our ancestors fought against each other, a fledgling nation against puppets controlled by empires. We have been victim to terror attacks so many times, that other nations see us reacting as aggression.”

“Yes, which is why I hope you find those remaining members of the Genoshan Party of Brotherhood,” remarked the Genoshan. “I was never a fan of their extremist ways, and I feel that Genosha as an independent nation won’t be a peaceful nation. The GPB has always found a way to subvert us into doing their personal bidding.”

“And they will be brought to justice,” replied the Rhodesian.

Outside the tent flap, the evening sun descended. The cheers and boos continued as the Rhodesians and Genoshans formed their respective Rugby teams on a makeshift field. Some were sharing drinks and chatting, others were arguing like everyday people. It was somehow evident that deep down inside, they were all just normal people fighting on different sides of the war. The Cease Fire looked less and less of a cease fire, and more of an official surrender. Not one side surrendering, but both sides. For these few days, they could finally find common ground with each other.

It was a bright day and she wished that the clouds were blotting out the sun. Marion hated working on beautiful days. She was in a military garage, what could be seen as oil streaks were evident across the fresh concrete floors. The building was empty save for a cheap folding table for twelve people. Each of the seats were occupied. Just a yard or two away from the table was a real time transcriber, typing everything that was said into his laptop.

“And how do we have a guarantee of that?” asked the highest ranking member of what was left of the Genoshan government. Yvette Blackburn, the Head of the House of Commons, sat there and held a face of disbelief.

“Because if we really wanted Genosha for ourselves, we would have annexed it by now. And how do you explain the fact that your Governor General, Prime Minister, and Head of Senate, along with other officials left Genosha?” asked Marion.

“I… Don’t know…” said Yvette, now stumped and clueless.

“Exactly, because you don’t know about their ties to the Genoshan Party of Brotherhood.”

The Genoshan Minister of Foreign Relations then spoke up, “That is a blatant lie! The GPB was disbanded years ago!”

“And we thought the same until the bombing of our former secretary of defense, Ronald Sung,” replied the Head of the Special Activities Division, who went only by the name “Snoopy.”

Marion added, “This was before your time Miss Blackburn. There are a lot of things about your country that you do not know.”

“Ok,” sighed the Head of the House of Commons, “Let’s say I’m ok with it, what are your plans after the Unconditional Surrender?”

The President of Rhodesia looked to her company, on the left and right, before finally focusing on the de facto leader of Genosha. Heleck spoke, “We will rebuild Genosha, and offer Rhodesian companies or other foreign interests huge incentives to expand here. We want to give the people a better life, a opportunity to succeed.”

“So you want to use us as slave labor?” asked Genoshan Minister of Foreign Relations in a rather aggressive tone. Yvette harshly told him to silence his mouth or he will be ejected from the talks.

“No need to eject him, after all, the Minister is only concerned about the people of his country. I would do the same thing in his shoes,” said President Heleck in soothing words. The minister calmed down, seeing that the other side understood his position. She continued, “We do not work people like slaves, we plan on having the same worker’s rights as the people in Rhodesia. We do not want to punish the Genoshan people, again I cannot stress that enough.”

“Then what about these rumors of annexation then?” asked Dalton Cline, the foreign relations minister. He was calmed slightly, but still concerned.

“Mr. Cline, I will not bullshit you,” said Marion in a straight tone. “There are those within our government who seek annexation. I have spoken with such individuals and we have agreed, we will give the people of Genosha the choice to decide in a few years. They can choose to be an independent nation, hopefully with a much more closer friendship with Rhodesia, or they can choose to be part of the Federal Republic. If they choose to be part of Rhodesia, the citizens of Genosha are given full rights and are recognized as Rhodesians.”

Dalton sat there, his face still the same, but deep down inside he was happy to have someone who laid the cards out in honesty. He opened his mouth, “Well, I cannot argue with it. But that raises a question, what about the government of Genosha in the meantime?”

“We will keep the government, albeit in a much more observed state and following the direction of Rhodesia. Politicians over there will not dictate what goes on here. However, we will be intensively investigating it for any traces of the Genoshan Party of Brotherhood.”

“I’m afraid I must protest to that, it seems like a witch hunt to me,” said Yvette.

“Perfectly reasonable to react. Which is why we are tasking a joint investigation, of both Rhodesians and Genoshans. The goal is only to hunt subversive GPB members, that’s it. We don’t want paranoia,” said Snoopy

Yvette asked another question, “Ok, what about policing efforts? It seems a little scary that our towns have tanks nearby.”

“We plan on keeping an occupational policing force. However, they are only there to act in support of the regional police. Your local law enforcement is where the buck stops. As to the armored vehicles, they are kept out of sight. Lundrovers will be used primarily, and the uniforms we have are very appropriate for law enforcement duties. They might seem a little too much, but it’s the same type that we have in Rhodesia. They will still be armed with their service rifles and sidearms though, we want to have enough firepower to deal with any bandits or marauders.”

“What about protests?” asked the minister.

“Standard procedure as before, allow it until it turns violent on their part. If rocks or objects that can kill someone is thrown, it will be dispersed and the responsible individuals will be handed off to local law enforcement.”

“Wow, your army sounds, rather uncommon,” said Yvette.

Snoopy spoke up, “We don’t use our Army to fight, they serve as an occupational force to maintain order on the ground. Think of them as Police, but much more powerful in terms of equipment and training. It’s the Marines that handle most of the ground war.”

“Never heard of such a crazy tactic, but hey, it works,” said a 70 year old Genoshan at the table.

“Now, if everything is satisfactory, we will give you the preliminary copies again, like yesterday, and leave you for the rest of the day to debate. The signing of the Camp Sand Declaration will be tomorrow and broadcasted. But we can always extend that for a few days,” said Marion as she began wrapping up her papers.

The other party of the talks agreed to the end of the day and began gathering their papers. They were escorted to their rather comfortable quarters for the rest of the day. It was just after noon as the sun beat down onto the landscape. Marion looked into the blue skies and was thankful that she could now relax.

Marion sat there at a wooden table underneath a open tent, akin to those who participate in tailgating outside sport venues. On the other side of the table was Yvette Blackburn, the de facto leader of the Genoshan government. Next to her sat Karl Sunnet, the Supreme Commander of the Genoshan Armed Forces. Both were dressed appropriately, and not a single hair was out of place. They were surrounded by cameras broadcasting live. Just past the cameras were Rhodesian soldiers and marines, awaiting anxiously.

Yvette took a few minutes to check the wording until she began to sign the document before her. Handing a pen to her subordinate, Karl received it. He then signed his name onto the paper. Once the pen was put down, the soldiers and marines started cheering loudly, signaling the end of the Rhodesian-Genoshan War. The documents were slid down the table gently by Karl, allowing the cameras to glimpse at it from a respectable distance.

— Begin quote from ____

We, acting by command of and in behalf of the Genoshan Government and the Genoshan Armed Forces, hereby accept the provisions set forth in the declaration issued by the heads of the Federal Republic of Rhodesia on 12 December 2016 at Camp Sand.

We hereby proclaim the unconditional surrender to the Rhodesian Armed Forces of the Genoshan Armed Forces and all Armed Forces under Genoshan control wherever situated.

We hereby command all Genoshan forces wherever situated and the Genoshan people to cease hostilities forthwith, to preserve and save from damage all ships, aircraft, and military and civil property, and to comply with all requirements which may be imposed by the Federal Republic of Rhodesia or by agencies of the Genoshan Government at their direction.

We hereby command the Genoshan Armed Forces to issue at once orders to the commanders of all Genoshan forces and all forces under Genoshan control wherever situated to surrender unconditionally themselves and all forces under their control.

We hereby command all civil, military, and naval officials to obey and enforce all proclamations, orders, and directives deemed by the Federal Republic of Rhodesia to be proper to effectuate this surrender and issued by him or under their authority; and we direct all such officials to remain at their posts and to continue to perform their non-combatant duties unless specifically relieved by them or under their authority.

We hereby undertake for the Genoshan Government, and their successors to carry out the provisions of the Camp Sand Declaration in good faith, and to issue whatever orders and take whatever action may be required by the Federal Republic of Rhodesia or by any other designated representative of the Federal Republic of Rhodesia for the purpose of giving effect to that declaration.

We hereby command the Genoshan Government and the Genoshan Armed Forces at once to liberate all Rhodesian Prisoners of War and civilian internees now under Genoshan control and to provide for their protection, care, maintenance, and immediate transportation to places as directed.

The authority of the Genoshan Government to rule the State shall be subject to the Federal Republic of Rhodesia, whom will take such steps as deemed proper to effectuate these terms of surrender.

Signed at Camp Sand, Genosha at 11:14 on the THIRTEENTH day of DECEMBER, 2015

Yvette Blackburn
By Command and in behalf of the Genoshan Government

Karl Sunnet
By Command and in behalf of the Genoshan Armed Forces

Accepted at Camp Sand, Genosha at 11:15 on the SECOND day of SEPTEMBER, 1945, for the Federal Republic of Rhodesia.

Marion Heleck
President and Commander in Chief of Rhodesia, and the Rhodesian Armed Forces

Valintino Saar’bac
Vice President and Co-Commander in Chief of Rhodesia, and the Rhodesian Armed Forces

— End quote

Valintino Saar’bac was standing there on a concrete dock, awaiting for the captain of the submarine to pop out. It was a covered dock, providing security against spy planes and satellites. The entire passageway was deep enough for a sub to come in underwater, then rise inside the structure. After a few agonizing minutes, the sub captain popped the hatch and started walking towards his boss with a hand extended. Footsteps smacking against the gangplank that connected the submarine and the dock. Val extended his hand to shake the subordinate’s.

They began laughing for a couple of minutes until Val asked, “You were followed?”

“Oh yeah,” said the captain, laughing. “We lost them in the East Keigan Sea islands,” this time, roaring with laughter. Val lost it too, especially at the irony which the captain knew of.

After a minute of laughter, they finally calmed down. Saar’bac handed a newspaper segment to him. The sea dog took it and started reading a certain section circled with a red marker.

— Begin quote from ____

War is Over!

Yesterday, the Genoshan Government has signed the official declaration of surreder, now known as the Camp Sand Declaration of Surrender. Rough estimates indicated that approximately 18,000 Genoshan military personnel, 6,000 Rhodesian military personnel, and 4,000 Genoshan civilians died during the now-finished Rhodesian-Genoshan War.

However, in recent news, the Rhodesian Marines have broken into the Federal Vault of formerly Genosha. Inside, around 80% of the stolen Rhodesian gold from the IBBC Economic Attack were present. Initially doubtful, journalists have asked how officials could recognize the gold bars. The response was, “We know it is ours, from the Southern Gold Eagle stamp present on all of them, our national animal. Underneath the symbol, is a percentage that says, “99.9999%”. The percent is the purity content of the gold bars. However, most nations only go to tenths or hundredths with their purity content. While we use a ten thousandths system of purity for our gold reserves.”

An additional comment was received by another official tasked with checking the legitimacy of the gold. His comment was, “If the purity content and symbol isn’t enough, we use a micro-stamping process to hide letters within the symbol of the Southern Gold Eagle. To the normal eye, it is unnoticeable, commonly taken for granted as detailing of the animal.”

The Federal Republic of Rhodesia has an official tonnage of gold before the IBBC Economic Attack, weighing in at nearly 2,000 tonnes of gold. Investigation into the terror attack confirm that around 100 tonnes of gold was stolen from the IBBC Bank. However, only 20 of the 100 total gold stolen still remains at large.

Officials say that it could have been melted down and sold to other entities to fund the losing war, or taken with the current government in exile.

— End quote

“Jeezus, that was 20 tonnes?” he asked in disbelief.

“Give or take,” said the cheetah.

“Didn’t realize that, we were too busy rushing to load the damn sub with the gold and get the hell out of dodge. We also wasted the government officials complicit with getting the gold out of the vault and to the docks.” he replied, thumbing towards the submarine.

“Good, good. Glad to see that you took the liberty to tie up loose ends. How’s the girl?”

“Oh she is great,” the captain said while facing his baby. “Silent as the seas itself. I have to admit, when I first saw it, the specifications were astronomical, especially for a diesel. Thirty Knots max, twenty in silent mode, fifteen at full stealth? If you just said that outside of business, I would have laughed in your face.”

http://armscontrol.ru/atmtc/Arms_systems/Navy/Submarine/delta4.jpg
“I admit I don’t know much about submarines, but the private industry always manages to do things better than government or their military.”

“Oh yeah, especially how you managed to get what used to be a nuclear powered sub.”

“No need to worry about that, it’s core was dismantled before I had the chance to buy it. We just simply renovated the inside.”

“I loved how you managed to redo the entire ballistic missile silos and turned it into a loading bay. Made our job of getting the gold inside so much easier.”

“Glad to hear that, I’ll pass on the high praises. In the meantime, let’s have the boys and girls offload the good stuff, while we chat about the next assignment.”

President Christopher Arctoris stood before the Foxhound and two Foxbats, watching as a number of technicians poured over the two aircraft. Arctoris had spent a career in the military before entering politics, but he had been an infantryman, not a airman. But he’d wanted to come see Rhodesia’s gift himself, if only because he knew it’d get back to the Rhodesians that he had, and he wanted it clear how much he appreciated the present. “Give me an idea of how good of a gain we’ve got here,” he said to no one in particular.

Julia Brenner, his chief of staff, answered. “The air force is ecstatic. They say this is a totally different line of aircraft engineering from our own, and they’re very excited about what they’ll be able to learn from it.”

Brenner was standing to Arctoris’ left. The general commanding the air force’s research and development unit, who was standing to Arctoris’ right, spoke up. “We’re very hopeful that we’ll be able to make significant technological gains using these aircraft, Mister President,” he said, his monotone voice contrasting with Brenner’s more excitable style, “when we begin developing our next generation of aircraft in the next few years, we’ll be able to incorporate a lot of this. It’s a major gain.”

“Very good,” Arctoris said, “very good, indeed.” He looked to Brenner. “Make sure the Rhodesians understand how thankful we are.” He then looked to the general. “And make sure we glean everything we can from these things.”

Yvette Blackburn and Val Saar’bac were chatting inside the recently appointed General Governor’s office. On the walls were a collection of firearms and swords that belonged to the previous General Governor, Bashat Tornal. It was evident that he could not bring his collection with him during the rather hasty exile from the incoming Rhodesian forces.

Val sat in a chair facing his host while continuing, “Now, as to the deceased.”

Blackburn remained silent for a second before responding, “Yes, we have collected the deceased and given them a full burial. There are still a few missing in action though. On a different topic, the whole joint investigation into the Genoshan Party of Brotherhood is surprisingly efficient, although there has been a few snags hit here and there.”

“Well, we did want it to be joint. If it was just Rhodesians handling it, then it would have become a full-blown witch hunt. But the good news is this, the scapegoat has been set perfectly.”

“I will agree with you on that Val, the GPB being responsible for the Genoshan demise is a great distraction. Now our people wear their hatred towards them with pride, especially since many of the people here still remember what it was like under their party.”

“Now as to-” Val said before being interrupted by the sounds of helicopters moving throughout the city. The reconstruction efforts were progressing significantly. The only few damages left over from the war were the cracked streets and sidewalks. Some buildings still had the tell-tale pockmarks of bullet impacts. For now it was clean, and people were walking around, as if it was another day for them. The felidae finally regained his composure and rersumed, “Now as to the military operations and the potential of Genosha being a member state. It is very generous of you to lend a airbase for us to participate in the Oynenyua situation.”

“I’m sorry Val, but the attempts will be in vain if they try to introduce Genosha into the Rhodesian,” she interrupted before pausing for a few seconds. Resuming, “Well, Rhodesian Empire. As much as we enjoyed the changes in policies, especially the whole increase in firearms sales having cut down on the amount of crime, and having one of the strongest forms of currency in the region backed by gold. The Genoshan people will never accept being part of something they believe that they do not have equal status in.”

“Agreed,” Val commented, “which is why I propose a, well let’s call it a federation. Rhodesia and Genosha will be founding members and have equal status. However, that brings up a lot of the local laws.”

Blackburn was a little surprised at the notion, but it would be the most achievable. Genosha was a backwater before the Rhodesian invaded, now with their policy changes made in her homeland, money has been flowing. Corporations were making advances into the workforce of the locals, parents now actually being able to afford life’s amenities with little to no worry. Her lips began moving, “Well, that’s rather new. I can see the feasibility of such a undertaking. Our laws and whatnot are already heavily influenced by your nation. As to solidify this concept, I do believe it should be added on the upcoming referendum by popular vote. Instead of just having the people vote yes or no if they want to be independent, they can also have the choice in being part of such an economically powerful federation.”

“Well, that’s settled then, I’ll leave you up to it. One final question, how is your brother?” Val asked.

“He is doing great, he loves those action figures you gave him. I think that you might run into him on your way out.”

The felidae then got up to shake Yvette’s hand, concluding the business for the day. After a few words were exchanged, Saar’bac walked through the office doors and into the hallway.

Halfway down the passageway, he saw Blackburn’s younger brother Billy. The 21 year old brother had Down syndrome, as evidenced by him saying hello to Val like a 8 or 9 year old child. The cheetah hugged the younger Blackburn and then began walking with him under his arm. “How are you Billy?” he asked.

“Good, I love the action figures,” Billy said enthusiastically.

“Great! Now I wish I could stay and talk to you some more, but I have to go Billy. You be a good brother to your sister, alright?”

“Awww,” he whined while crossing his arms and stopping.

“No more putting glue in her shampoo either!” Val exclaimed.