A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Leob » Tue Feb 27, 2018 9:02 pm

Federal Police Headquarters, Rodshyadam, Trigunia
17:00 hours, 13th November, 4354


Aleksandr Solomonov was smoking at least his fifth cigarette in the last two hours. He would never admit how nervous he was. He didn't like the situation he got in. He didn't care much about politics, but he was a religious man. His religion was Trigunian law and the god he worshipped was the Trigunian Constitution. Police service was a family tradition for him. His father devoted his life and all the effort to his career. He killed himself after he was ejected from the Police. It was during the time of Nationalist Front's rule in Trigunia. His superior assigned him to surveillance of an investigative journalist. He was supposed to scare the journalist and make him stop writing. His father told his superiors he wouldn't engage in an illegal surveillance of a subject.

A black car with blue lights, escorted by two vans of armed policemen stopped in front of the HQ. He threw away his last cigarette and took a brown suitcase from the floor. In it was, an arrest warrant issued by the Constitutional Court, for Arkadiy Arkadiyevich. The Constitutional Court didn't usually issue arrest warrants, but the situation was everything but usual.

As the escort arrived to the Bear's Den, Solomonov started to see more and more Federal Police units. He stepped out of the vehicle right in front of the entrance to the palace. He showed his identification card to one of the policemen. He proceeded to a large and beautifully decorated room. He hated it. He didn't even say hello to the man sitting behind a large wooden desk. For him, the Tsar was just a man who broke the law. At least that was what he tried to tell himself. His hands began to shake as he opened the suitcase. As he was pulling out the papers, a uniformed officer opened the door and approached him. "Sir, there's the military outside."


Office of the President of the Trigunian Federation,
18:14, 13th November, 4354


Yakim Astafyev looked out of the window. It's been almost twenty minutes since he received the call by the Federal Police units around the Bear's Den. From that moment until now, he kept attempting to reach the commander of the Rodshyadam Garrison. No response. He couldn't believe that he could lose control so quickly. He took up the phone from his desk and dialed the Tirgith Federal Domain Military District HQ.

He got off the phone and walked towards the bar on the other side of the room. He took a bottle of Vodka and filled a glass. The only military support he could get in Chadonia, was one battallion in Rodshyadam that was locked in it's barracks, one regiment posted about one hour from the city, that couldn't stand against the well equipped Rodshyadam Garrison including Special Forces, military units in Navrov, over 5 hours from the Capital and then units in other Domains, mainly Tirgith and Milrata that couldn't reach Rodshyadam in less than 10 hours. First would be paratroopers from Tirgith, who could be deployed relatively quickly but in small numbers.

He looked out of the window again. The Presidential Guards were still standing on their posts at the front gate. He walked over to the desk again and dialed the Federal Police HQ to call for some more reliable support.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Auditorii » Wed Feb 28, 2018 3:56 am

Dorvish General Staff building, Altstadt, Haldor
July 11th, 4355

Konstantin Weinheber, Leopold Doss and Alfred Ehlers all sat inside of the BMW (Bremegeden Motor Works) and prepared for what would be the defining moment of their careers and their service to the Red Front (Dundorfian: Rotfront) a catch all Dorvish Communist and Socialist group with radical aims to overthrow the Dorvish government and install a council republic. Weinheber, the leader of the group was a dedicated Revolutionary Socialist, he was a self-proclaimed Kaminskist and he was joined by long time friend and ally Leopold Doss, the two of them hailing from the same ideological group were natural friends and both joined the Red Front together. The relative newcomer to the group was dedicated National Monarchist and undercover State Security Service agent Alfred Ehlers who had gone for nearly 2 years undercover and joined the Red Front as a probationary member and this was his chance to become a Front Man (Dundorfian: Frontmann) a full member of the Red Front. The security around the Dorvish General Staff building was naturally tight, it was the Dorvish way to secure one of the most important military facilities in the world. It assisted in controlling the myriad of Dorvish forces throughout the world.

"Prepared? Weinheber spoke a hushed tone, as if someone could hear him besides his fellow two passengers. The other two nodded and Weinheber looked to Ehlers. "Soon we will call you brother and we will lead a glorious revolution to tear down this building!" Weinheber was slightly intoxicated and little more...preachy than normal...he was also the driver. The group had a simple mission, kill the Inspector of the Dorvish Navy Generaladmiral Kersten Donhauser who was recently responsible for a purge of low ranking enlisted officials who were suspected of having communist ties. The Red Front group wanted to make a statement. Weinheber asked again if the two were ready and once again they nodded. They were going to attempt a drive by shooting of the Generaladmiral as he left a meeting of the Supreme General Staff. The group had studied and watched the building for nearly a year and despite slight differences the aging Generaladmiral had taken the same route out every time he was at the General Staff building.

What the other two didn't know was that this was carefully planned by the State Security Service and the Military Security Service, both of which were informed of the plot by their agent Alfred Ehlers and only recently pushed by new Chief of the State Security Main Office Sydel von Völknitz-Siezenhaus to attempt to gain access to the Red Front as a whole. The Generaladmiral was left uniformed, much to the chagrin of the Military Security Service, but undoubtedly important to operational security. "Lets do this. Weinheber sped towards the cadre of officials walking down the steps of the General Staff building and Ehlers, who had loaded his weapon with simulation rounds, fired upon the awaiting motorcade of the Generaladmiral. The protective detail returned fire but missed hitting anyone inside the vehicle and hit the vehicle itself. The three sped off and narrowly escaped despite the heavy presence of Dorvish Police and Leadership Escort Command within the area. This was not a fault of the Dorvish Police or the Leadership Escort Command but practice of design in pushing units away from the areas where the three were suppose to escape.

The three ditched and car and Weinheber couldn't contain his excitement as the three quickly switched clothes and exited the building where they had more or less crashed their car inside a parking area and quickly fled the area. Weinheber grabbed Elhers and shook him. "Welcome Frontmann Ehlers!" Who had really won? But of course, the Dorvish State Security Service.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Leob » Wed Feb 28, 2018 9:45 pm

Rodshyadam International Airport, Trigunia
0336 hours, 14th November, 4354


Yure Bokaryov joined the military when he was 16, quickly getting into the highly regarded Airborne Infantry. He came from a poor family, his father was a worker in the Tirgith Domain, his mother was a tailor in a textile factory. He never got out of his birth city, until he joined the military.
Now, he was sitting in the back of a truck with his comrades, waiting to ride through the airport gates in Rodshyadam.
As soon as everyone was prepared, the convoy moved out of the airport. Only few minutes after that all of the trucks stopped. Yure, who was in the second vehicle of the convoy, could hear the doors of the commanding car open. The officer walked to an armoured vehicle blocking the road.
A corporal from the officer's car hopped into the truck. "Yure, hey! Prepare your launcher!" Yure looked at him. "Are we in trouble already?" He said, while taking the launcher from his back. "Not yet, but we will, if the commander messes up."
The doors of the front vehicle closed. The convoy began moving again. As his truck went by the roadblock, Yure could see soldiers waving at them. The officer has obviously done a good job.
Now just a dozen more roadblocks before they reached the Presidential Palace...

Office of the Minister-President, Rodshyadam, Trigunia
0412 hours, 14th November, 4354


Matvey Soldatov just got off the phone with his wife. Before all this started she was visiting her parents in Milrata. She went there with their daughter and younger son. Twelve years old Artyom, however, stayed in Rodshyadam with his father. Soldatov told his wife it would be best if they visited Kazulia until the situation is calmer. He knew the situation won't just calm down. They would be safe in Milrata for a while perhaps, the military and people were loyal to the republican government. Sadly, that couldn't be said about most of the other Domains.
Even though he was the Minister-President and the leader of his party, at this moment, more than anything, he was a father. And he was terrified. He knew the Police was still loyal and that the paratroopers from Tirgith landed a while ago. He also knew that wasn't enough.
His last hope was that the monarchists would leave children out of this. But who knows what might happen in the chaos of the coup...
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Zanz » Thu Mar 01, 2018 3:16 pm

Outside the Presidential Residence, Rodshyadam, Chadonia Domain, Trigunia
0634 hours, 14 November 4354

Another crack, like a whip, and then a frenzied whirring followed simultaneously by the explosive collision of lead with the pavement near Anton Fedosov's head reminded him, needlessly, of his quite idiotic predicament. His unit, the 7th Naval Infantry Motor Rifle Brigade, had been among several to answer the Tsar's call. Fedosov could give two shits, about the Tsar, though, especially when it was his head, not His Royal Northern Highness', that was inches from a death by catastrophic ballistic impact.

To his right, roughly 12 feet away across Pervomaiskaya Ulitsa, was Fedosov's compatriot in misery, Yuri Afanasievich, who could give two shits about the Tsar, too. Yuri was sitting with his back against the brick wall of a liquor store, out of the line of fire, with his knees pulled into his body sharply and his left hand on his white helmet, as if maintaining a sense of where that helmet was might ensure Yuri the head underneath it on, too. Even from this distance, Fedosov could see that the snow between Yuri's legs was stained yellowish green with vomit.

They had been here, on this wretched road, for roughly forty five minutes, ever since the higher-ups in the 7th had realized that the Siniys (OOC: Blues, a name for the Trigunian Airborne, for their distinctive blue berets) that had come through an hour and a half ago weren't actually Tsarists but were undertaking to rescue the President. Fedosov bet that those higher-ups were real pissed, or else that whoever had fucked this up was right now running as far from the Arctic work camps as he could get before anyone realized his error, but he wasn't pissed at the Siniys, just annoyed as hell. Why make each other go through this shit? He felt bad for them, too. It was a suicide mission. As soon as they'd taken up defensive positions around the Presidential Residence they'd been trapped, surrounded by royalists, stuck with the same fate as Astafyev. Fedosov bet that most of those Siniys were just like him, maybe with some lukewarm thoughts on the Tsar or the President but definitely not riled enough to die for either one. Still, a job's a job, even if that job means sitting on your ass in the snow, trying to keep from dying.

Overhead, the rhythmic fwoopfwoopfwoop of two choppers drew Fedosov's eyes upward. Their twin black bodies cut swiftly across the cloudy gray sky, and one of them opened up with a heavy machine gun in the direction from which Fedosov and Yuri had been taking fire. Finally. Fedosov took the opportunity to swing his head around the corner of the pastry shop he'd been using for cover and watched as an overturned Xiandai truck was pommeled by a twenty second burst from the helicopter. When the deafening firing stopped no shots rang out in return, an indication to Fedosov that the Siniy was either dead or too busy shitting himself to pull his trigger. Fedosov looked over to Yuri as the choppers fwoopfwoopfwooped back into the sky, and was heartened to see that the man was in a crouch, now, his shoulder heavily against the wall and his face very pale. Fedosov nodded and Yuri raised his rifle to cover him as he moved forward.

Keeping low and moving quickly despite the burning protest of his cramped legs, Fedosov maneuvered tactically up the street, his eyes focused upward, scanning carefully for snipers. Nothing. The Siniys hadn't come in a lot of force, it seemed, more idiocy. These guys must have known their mission was suicide, they'd driven through thirteen checkpoints just to get here, what difference did it make if a Tsar or a President ruled in Trigunia? Why was it worth this?

Still crouching and finger resting on the trigger of his rifle, safety off, Fedosov reached the near side of the pickup, once blue but now a twisted mass of blackened metal and plastic. Shit cars those Indralans make, Fedosov's father had always said. The late Maksim Fedosov had preferred Trigunian made, had voted Lyonya until the day he died, despite that Lyonya was great friends with the Indralans. Fedosov shook his head. Focus.

Sweat beaded on his brow despite the harsh Trigunian winter cold as he came, carefully, slowly, around the auto. He had known what he'd see, but even still Fedosov immediately vomited. On the ground lay two boys, at most twenty years old, their blue berets covered in their blood, their bodies ripped to pieces by bullets and pieces of the truck alike. The noxious smell of leaking gasoline and gore intermingled. One of them, his left leg horribly mangled but otherwise relatively untouched, lay staring at the sky, lifeless. The other, ruined torso exposed to the elements, was barely recognizable as a man. Walking to the first, Fedosov checked his tags. Yure Bokaryov.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Kubrick » Thu Mar 01, 2018 6:05 pm

Anti-Democratic Front Party Office, suburbs of Rodshyadam, Chadonia, Trigunia
12:48, November 15th, 4354.

"So in short what you are telling me, Aleksey Evgenivich, is that the IT company you are a majority shareholder in has managed to get the contract for the voting computers?" Arkadiy Leonidivich asked, leaning back further in his luxurious office chair. The visitor nodded vigorously. "Yes, good Arkadiy, ChadoIT has the full contract, it took a few bribes but I have it, I have it." A nervous laugh escaped the billionaire but he quickly composed himself. Arkadiy, by now called Vozhd (Leader) by all party members smiled graciously. "And why are you telling me all this, Aleksey Evgenivich? We haven't spoken since university." The billionaire's face became a bit paler. "Well, Arkadiy, old friend, I figured if I help you, you can help me.. You know I am a wealthy man and not all this wealth may be.. legit so to speak. I have utilized many grey methods, morally questionable methods.. some lawyers would argue illegal methods. Actually most lawyers would, especially state prosecutors. I have a friend at the Ministry of Finance, he says that Lyonya's government is looking into me, a preliminary investigation, they do it with all billionaires these days.. the point is, with me they will find something." At the end of the speech Aleksey coughed once, before looking down nervously. A long silence followed as the Vozhd nodded his head. "I see.." he said, to finally break the silence. "I think we can find a way to help each other."
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Leob » Thu Mar 01, 2018 9:38 pm

Office of the President, Rodshyadam, Trigunia
1430 hours, 15th November 4354


Yakim Astafyev stood up behind his desk. He walked out of his office and went towards the conference room. He walked through the hall, now transformed into a field hospital. Around him, on the floor, were wounded soldiers and policemen. Most of them were more boys than men. He could smell their blood, sweat and vomits. He loosened his tie and opened the door into the conference room. Four men were standing around the table, looking at the plans of the Palace, preparing the final defense. One colonel of the Airborne Infantry, one major, one officer of the Federal Police and a military doctor. The four of them saluted him. Astafyev looked at the colonel. "Tell your man to cease fire, polkovnik." The officer looked at him and after few seconds nodded. Astafyev looked over the four men. "I'll go greet the tsarists. Polkovnik? Take care of the wounded."
Astafyev walked towards the front gate, as the gunfire outside slowly faded.
So this is the end, huh?


Office of the Minister-President, Rodshyadam, Trigunia
1415 hours, 15th November 4354


Matvey Soldatov was sitting in his living room. In the chaos, caused by the paratroopers' arrival and thanks to the high presence of Federal Police in the area, his residence was left untouched, so far.
He looked at his son, who was playing with a turtle on the carpet. "Artyom, go to your room." The boy took his turtle and ran up the stairs.
Sound of vehicles approaching could be heard from outside. Soldatov walked to the window and looked out. Two military trucks stopped in front of the residence. Soldiers jumped out and quickly surrounded the policemen at the front door. Soldatov walked outside and signaled the policemen to lower their weapons.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby thefalloutfan101 » Mon Mar 12, 2018 1:45 am

Arkady II Apartment Block, Downtown Rodshyadam, Trigunia
June 15, 4361

Alexei Romanovich Kunetzov sat in his apartment, on the couch, twiddling his thumbs, blankly staring at the dingy television that sputtered out propaganda from the country's state news station, Rech Naroda. The young former college student of 19 was orphaned, after his parents had been killed by the royalists several years ago, during the civil war. He had enough money to sustain himself afterward, but soon college put strain on his savings. Ultimately he decided to leave, after spending two years working for a bachelor's in engineering. Now he lives in this small, filthy apartment in near squalor, having little clothes left, and oftentimes skipping meals, due to his low money. He was depressed, yet also angry. His parents, hardworking middle class people and ardent communists, slaughtered by those bastard royalists without word or reason. His aunt told him that they were drug out into the night, in the freezing cold, bound and gagged, and shot in the back of the head. He wanted to do something, but it seemed fruitless. White Trigunia and the Anti-Democratic Front ruled the nation now, with an iron fist. Resistance seemed about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. He laughed to himself. His uncle told him that joke. He was a Senior Michman in the Trigunian navy, although he died of a heart attack two years before the civil war. He was distracted from his thoughts by an announcement on the television. It seemed urgent. He shifted himself in his couch to get a better view. The report cut from Rech Naroda's newsroom to the office of Minister of Internal Affairs, Komissarov Vitomirovich giving a press conference. A rare occurrence, even for the de-facto news of the entire country. He spoke at length about a possible militant communist resistance group operating in the motherland. Kunetzov was astonished. "Can it really be? Someone dares to defy those monarchist bastards?" He thought to himself. He heard news before of insurgent activity, but they were always quashed by the army or the police immediately. For such a group to pop up and continue to exist, he was bewildered. He longed for revenge against the royalists, to give purpose to his life at last. "I must find these people. Whoever they are, wherever they are, I have to join them. It is my duty to avenge my parents and free our people from these fascists and monarchists." He promptly shut off the television, an ecstatic smile forming on his face for the first time in months.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Kubrick » Mon Mar 19, 2018 2:27 am

St. Grigoriy Cemetery, Rodshyadam, Chadonia, Trigunia.
9:00, 28 December, 4364.


The mythical Lyonya. For so many years he had been a powerful player in Trigunian politics. His eccentric style, his populism.. it had taken Trigunia by storm. It had paved the way for a new type of politics, a type of politics where a man wouldn’t have to be afraid to say what he thought. The Vozhd had shown that, he had taken over from that weak old man, he had said exactly what he thought and he reaped the benefits of it. The Trigunian people had shown their true colours and now the Vozhd ruled with an iron fist, supported by the entire right. Sure, the Tsar is still there but he’s just a meaningless figurehead.. Igor sighed. He had come to the St. Grigoriy Cemetary in Rodshyadam at a specific hour on a specific day with one task. Eliminate an enemy of the state. His supervisor had told him that the great Lyonya had been too critical of the Vozhd, he had to be removed. He was a true enemy of the state, he had criticized the Vozhd and his loyal ministers.. it was even rumoured he financed those communist cunts. With that motivation Igor stepped through the iron wrought gate of the old cemetery at exactly 9 am, he walked past several rows of graves. He knew where he had to be, he had done all the research. He had been following Lyonya for six weeks now.

Row nineteen, grave six. It was a rainy day with light fog and no sun, since the sky was grey with clouds. But at row eighteen he could already see Lyonya at the grave of his dead wife. Good riddance, Igor thought, the more traitors died the better. Trigunia had to rise again, to expand, to grow.. yet these weren’t his worries, not right now. He walked up to the grave and stood two meters away from Leonid ‘Lyonya’Brantov. He cleared his throat. “Mister Brantov? I do apologize to disturb you..” Lyonya stood up, he had just placed a bouquet of flowers on the grave of his wife. He turned to Igor and simply asked “Yes?” Igor only had one response. “The Vozhd sends his regards.” He pulled out the pistol from his holster and aimed it at Lyonya, who’s eyes widened. The pistol gave out two loud bangs and then it clicked. One shot missed, the other had struck Lyonya. He cursed in pain and fell over onto the grave of his wife, smacking against the gravestone. The impact made the stone tumble over, it was a recent grave and the stone wasn’t properly set yet. As Lyonya started crawling away Igor frantically checked his pistol. Not a jam, not now, not a fucking failure, not at this moment. He pulled back the slide several times, ejected the bullet, took the magazine in and out, aimed at Lyonya and fired again. Three times he tried, three times he failed. Lyonya kept crawling. “Stay here, you traitor.” He hissed at him, yet Lyonya, determined to survive, kept on crawling. Igor walked up to him and gave him a good kick in the ribs, near where he was shot. Lyonya shouted from pain. “Bastard!” he squealed. With his strength Igor turned him around. “And now, enemy of the Vozhd, you will die.” He spat in his face and looked around him. He should have brought his knife.. then his gaze fell upon the fallen gravestone. He smirked and looked back at Lyonya. “Your wife will assist me today." He quietly said to Lyonya. Even with the bloodloss and immense pain the former ruler of Trigunia hardened his face. “You’re nothing but a pawn in a losing game.” He said to Igor. It surprised Igor how calm Lyonya was, perhaps he did not realize yet he was to die.

With a calm stride Igor walked over to the gravestone. With ease he picked it up, he had always been strong. Never smart, just strong. He walked back to Lyonya who started to chuckle. A weak chuckle, but still a chuckle. “You think your death is funny?” Igor asked him. “No, I just know you and your Vozhd will be as fucked as I am.” Igor did not believe him. With immense force he smashed the gravestone down on Lyonya’s head. It splat like a watermelon under a boulder. With that, Igor checked his watch. 9:17, time for coffee. As he walked off the graveyard he texted his supervisor, “Job done, weapon failure, improvised.” Only a day later the newspaper would report what this gruesome improvisation truly meant.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby thefalloutfan101 » Mon Mar 19, 2018 3:40 am

Ministry of Defense Building, Rodshyadam, Chadonia, Trigunia
10:30 PM, 30th December 4364


Alexei Kunetzov, now 22, had finally found the communist resistance group just a few short months when he vowed to meet them those three years ago. He learned that their name was the Red Hand, and that they were indeed behind the metro explosion. He had took time to prove himself, and now they trusted him with high risk missions. They had assigned him with stealing files, both digital and physical, from the Ministry of Defense Building in the heart of Rodshyadam. They were mainly for the purpose of aiding their members who had infiltrated the military and to exploit weaknesses, to further chip away at the monarchists. They were certainly detailed about the whole affair, giving him false papers and a uniform. He now assumed the identity of Leonid Andreyevich, a 27 year old Junior Lieutenant who was soon to be transferred to the building, mainly to oversee their databases. They had "taken care" of the young junior officer, ensuring that he wasn't seen by the others at the place to ensure that Alexei wouldn't be caught. The Red Hand had given him a plastic identity card and a lanyard that he needed to enter the building. The forgery was certainly top notch, practically the real thing to an amateur. He was driven to the place by a contact, simply known to him as "Yuri", and dropped off at the front. He now stood before the monstrous building, an enormous creation of concrete, subdued by a line of decorative trees. Pine, he reckoned. He put on the lanyard, straightened out his service uniform, and began walking towards the entrance. He carried with him two items to do the deed, concealed in a service jacket, a piece of his disguise and mainly to keep the cold from biting at him. One item was a USB stick that when connected, would overheat every single one of the CPU's in their server farm, causing a massive shortout, dealing a deadly blow to the Trigunian Army's intelligence. Another was a 1 terabyte hard drive to copy vital intelligence to the Red Hand's operatives in the military, special made so it could be easily snuck in, even past the receptionist. He opened the door and was met by a surprisingly lavish foyer. "Bourgeois decadence," He thought. "I just want to get this over with." The Red Hand told him exactly what to do at least five times now, so it was practically routine for him. He approached the main desk, informed the guard that he was Leonid Andreyevich, and the man at the desk glanced at his ID, called another guard, who began escorting him to the server farm. "Ah, Junior Lieutenant Andreyevich, welcome. We were expecting you for quite some time now! The previous overseer had retired due to health concerns so our server farm's been mostly run by a skeleton crew. Come, I'll escort you." He was then ushered in an elevator and had to spend time engaged in awkward small talk between him and the escort. Due to the New Years Eve preparations, the building was considerably short staffed, even for a night crew, which was already small. This was a blessing to Kunetzov. He reckoned the mission would likely take an hour. He spoke to the escort that he had been summoned to inspect the server farm, giving him cover to disappear for awhile. "Well, here we are. I hope your inspection doesn't uncover any problems with the equipment. It is top notch, you see. You can thank the Tsar for keeping our military in tip top shape!" The escort beamed. "We shall see," Kunetzov said. "Technology is an unpredictable mistress." He said, with a chuckle. He and the escort parted ways, and he opened the door.

The young man was hit by a blast of cold air. This was certainly it. He had reached the server farm. He grabbed a piece of paper, wrote "INSPECTION IN PROGRESS", in all capitals on it, grabbed some tape from inside a desk, and taped it to the door, and then promptly locked it. He then immediately went to work, using a computer at the far end of the room to begin perusing files. They told him that they mainly needed information on the General Staff of the Trigunian Army, as well as weapon caches, so that their operatives could secure them when a revolution was carried out. An event that was likely inevitable, in the Red Hand's eyes. He noticed that there was small water cooler not far from the desk. He poured himself a paper cup's worth. "Certainly going to need it, with all the searching I'm likely to be doing." He opened up a window on the computer and began using specific search terms given to him by his contact, Yuri. Sure enough, he found them. Seeing as he'd likely need to copy the entire section, he attached the 1 terabyte hard drive by way of a USB cable that he found inside the desk, and began copying. The minutes went by, and after glancing at a clock on the wall for the umpteenth time, he finally finished the work. He safely ejected the hard drive and returned the USB cable to the desk. He slipped it into his pocket and was about to use the special USB he had been given, but he had been interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. His face grew pale, and his palms began to sweat, despite the cold temperatures in the room. A voice called for him. It was the escort. "Hello? Mr. Andreyevich? Are you there? It's been an hour. Something wrong with the servers?" He poured more water from the water cooler and gulped it down nervously. "The inspection is nearly finished. It should only be another 10 minutes. You can head back down, and I'll meet you in the lobby." He paced back and forth around the room, pretending to do something to eat up the 10 minutes he promised to the escort. When his time was up, he plugged the USB into one of the servers and promptly ran for the door, unlocked it, and ripped off the paper he had placed there. He had about 30 seconds before sparks started flying. In his time there, he also collected a red folder that he brought with him. Secretly, it was some of the physical files they asked him to steal, but when asked what they were to the escort, he informed him that they were merely data printouts. He took the elevator down, noticing that the lights flickered. The deed must've been done. He gave a brief goodbye to both the receptionist and the escort and left the building into the cold once again. He saw Yuri parked near the road, smoking a cigarette. He was also in uniform. "Now, that wasn't hard, was it?" He said, after blowing smoke out into the wind. "If you call awkward small talk in an elevator hard, then I can't wait for what you give me next." Kunetzov said, with a smirk. "Ah, knock it off. C'mon, let's go." He extinguished the cigarette on the sidewalk and they entered the car, disappearing into the snowy night.
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Re: A Battle Unseen (OOC: First Person RP)

Postby Auditorii » Mon Mar 19, 2018 4:35 am

Rodshyadam, Radin Oblast, Trigunia
January 11th, 4364

Trokhym Henadijovych Kryvoruchko, a Kozak and close ally of Hobrazian Kozak Hetman Stefan Trokhymovych Honchar stood finishing his cigarette outside of the concrete building where the meeting was going to take place. Ideologies be damned, the Kozak's stuck together regardless of their political ideology. Trokhym watched as cars drove past and the snow fell and an eerie quiet overtook the capital, at one point this was the capital of the most feared and envied empire in the world, the Union of Kerisian Socialist Republics and it would be once again. Trokhym finished his cigarette and stepped inside the door to the building, two Trigunian Army soldiers were standing guard, each of them wearing their Ushanka with the dreaded emblem of the Great Prince and Tsar, Trokhym looked on in disgust as he walked up the dimly lit stairs and into a room where a variety of uniforms could be seen, mostly junior officers but several senior officers could be seen at large table in the back. Smoke filled the room and bottles of Vodka were ever present, it was a Trigunian tradition. Trokhym, himself a Kazachy Polkovnik, a Kozak Colonel, walked to the table in the rear and retook his seat.

"The Armata project is behind schedule. This Vohzd has no sense of production, our military is falling apart...royalist and monarchist and fascist are being appointed left and right. Our military is in shambles as they line their pockets with the workers money, the soldiers money at that." Spoke a larger army major general dressed in his uniform, his top button undone and tie pulled away. "We should be feared...but the Kazulian's are putting the fear of Boh into everyone...the Dorvish are in for a rude awakening with their now distraught officer corps and the flight from the military forget about it..." Lieutenant General Glebov Gavrila Nikitovich of the Trigunian Ground Forces spoke after the glutinous army major general interrupted his brief speech. "Instead of complaining we must act. Reports are that the Zardic elections went in favor of parties who want to restore the Zardic Federation to its former glory...whatever that might mean. If we keep on the path we will be whores to the foreign pawns." The lieutenant general continued. Nikitovich was a hard-core Kaminskist and believed firmly in the restoration of the Union of Kerisian Socialist Republics at its greatest extent, at least the restoration of the Trigunian Federative Socialist Republic (TFSR) which was the primary component state in the UKSR.

Each of the officers at the table nodded in agreement and the Lieutenant General stood up. "It is time we begin the process of re-organizing comrades. I think we have sat too idly by and allowed the blood of brother and sister Trigunian's to be spilled. We must act. The lieutenant generals brief speech caused a rapture of applause, a bunch of officers stood and began singing the UKSR's anthem and the lieutenant general himself joined in.

OOC: A lead up to my eventual return to Trigunia.
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