A Battle Unseen

[Robert F. Kennedy]

Blackhall Palace, Luthorian Foreign Office, 5 p.m. [Fort William Standard Time]

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Empire, also called by other names such as Blackhall Palace to designate the building where the ministry is located, with others accompanying it within it, such as the Ministry of the Home Department and many others, or the Foreign Office, to designate its more Luthorian situation, Luthori being the only country to actively name the Ministry as a "Foreign Office." Today, many men were gathered around a single table, to discuss a problem close to the borders of Luthori, it is that of Ikradon, a nation which has just collapsed in a total civil war, with factions declaring secessions one after the other. In this table are several senior representatives of the Luthorian Government, such as Prime Minister Raymond Miller, Foreign Secretary Maximillian Bates, Director-General of the Imperial Security Service, Hermann Blackbunner and specialists within the Foreign Office in relation to Artania.

The discussions about Ikradon were quite difficult, because Luthori had just been robbed by an official faction seen as "unknown" by the media, of a fairly large sum of money after the explosion of the Central Bank of Ikradon, something which the Governor of the Bank of Luthori and that of the Foreign Investment and Development Bank were not really happy to hear. Rapid and concrete actions should be taken quickly, everyone in this chamber knew that, but which, the first thing was to avoid the contagion of the conflict to other regions of Luthori, the state of emergency and a evacuation of the border areas of Shipleyriding and Northriding, this area representing approximately 30 km wide on the entire border between Luthori and Ikradon, where the Imperial Luthorian Army would have all the powers while respecting the judicial institutions, all this was in the perspective of avoiding taking risks at the security level because of "raids" set up by certain dissident factions in Ikradon to gain resources by any means, a scenario feared by the Imperial Security Service, or to avoid the shipment of certain light or heavy weapons across this border by illegal groups working in contact with groups in Ikradon.

After this fairly easy decision, the Defense Secretary announced his point of view, quite similar to that of the Imperial General Staff, who recommended a "preventive attack towards Ikradon to stabilize the country under the leadership of a government legitimately elected by the citizens", Defense Secretary Alexander Timlington said that "it is Luthori's duty to take the lead in establishing a humanitarian zone to protect the many refugees heading towards Luthori", the idea of the Defense Staff and Defense Secretary was to put Operation Martlington into action, at least its first phase, as long as the situation did not deteriorate, an idea strongly opposed by the Foreign Secretary, who wanted, even if he is known as an ardent defender of Luthorian interests, To avoid sending Luthorian troops on the ground, he advocated, as stated in his speech, "sending material funds and weapons to our preferred faction, supporting them diplomatically if possible", but the Prime Minister was categorical in his decision to support the Defense Office, stating that "the very stability of the Empire is threatened by the conflict at Ikradon and we must intervene to uphold the rights of human beings in this fraticidal conflict"

Now, Maximillian Bates was in his office, thinking about what he could say to the Imperial Diet in his speech to the Imperial Diet and what he could say to the international community regarding intervention. to Ikradon, and to its press release which should be given by the Foreign Office to the Luthorian Press, certain stations could prove to be critical of the government decision, such as the Times, other supporters, such as the Independent Observer or the International Inquirer during review by newspaper editorialists. But, for now, he was going to have to make a few calls.

[hyraemous]

Operation Redemption
Southern Badara - June-August 5406
(back-dated)

Brigadier general Leonida Rufrius Mendico Kafuricus stepped out of his humble-sized house late in the evening of 17 June 5406. With him came a few soldiers and officers as they walked down the road to another larger builing. In the building were a small war council which had a dozen maps and communications links with the Allink of Beiteynuese origin.

"General Mendico." said Colonel Johnathan Kaliev. "We have requested our Badaran friends to send about 50 ships of varying sizes to our base in the port of Ridazz. The 5,000 troops are ready for the operation." Ridazz was a wonderful town that hadn't been touched by the civil war that was affecting the rest of the larger island just north of Ridazz. Most of the island has already fallen from the rebels, but this one place was a pristine land away from the hell that was the rest of the island.

"Very good Colonel. We break at dawn. Get the troops and supplies ready to move. KUnS Jildrath (a patrol ship) is ready to take us while the other four patrol ships will move north with some of the troops. Supplies will move via some other ships that they kindly gave to us."

The Brigadier general brought another piece of paper to his attention. It was a correspondance from a member of the Kundrati Air Force. The correspondence stated that around 25 Soko J-22 fighters will be ready for the operation and that they will be placed under Mendico's control.

The next day...

The sun barely snook past the hills on 18 June yet the ships began to move slowly away from the port of Rizazz. Brigadier general Mendico woke up and, after a short breakfast, immediately moved with some of his highest-ranking officers towards these ships. It would take a couple of hours, maybe a day or two, for the first few ships to begin appearing at the other side of the sea. They would land at a large island in the middle of two rivers which merged towads one. That river ould be where they would continue past, but for now it would be that island that would be the temporary headquarters.

In order to distract the few Badaran rebel soldiers the 25 fighters would begin to move towards flying over the island and dropping small bombs on the island. The planes were told to drop bombs at specific areas on the sides of the river as these were seen as outposts incase of any invasion towards Misul, a major city on the river.

The bombs began to bomb soon after and the outposts saw destruction everywhere. Not one of the fighters were lost - however they did lose some aspect of surprise. As soon as the first bombs fell some of the rebels of the Ahmadi State in Badara would bring word to nearby units in Al-Habalah to come to their aid. Thus, by the end of the bombing run about an hour later it was clear that units were moving to the aid of their bretheren. While they would find ruin it was clear that something was coming - and that they'd had to prepare for it.

And so it was that, when the first Kundrati and Badaran ships fell upon the area towards the two rivers, the AMiB begun to fire at the ships. All at once bullets rained upon the Kundrati and Badarans and the first few ships were forced to fire back with some retreating. When the patrol ships were spotted soon after the AMiB focused their attention on these ships in particular. Casualties for the Kundrati and Badarans were high in this first wave and minimal for the defenders.

However, the patrol ships began to fire their armaments, specifically 30 mm cannons and anti-personnel missiles, towards the AMiB positions. This helped to turn the tide and, as more waves came in, a beachhead was slowly established at the two sides and the island. The island itself was easily taken over soon after though it would be much more harder for the beachheads on both sides of he island/river to be firmly established - it would take a day due to fierce fighting.

Soon the KUnS Jildrath landed and the first few supplies landed there in the island. The island began to be worked on - while it wasn't completely empty it was filled with farmland, some houses, and did not have much elevation itself. The island would, in the course of a week or so, turn into a mini fortress. It would be here where most of the troops would begin to land upon, home to around 5,000 people.

Not much happened during the week or two after the capture with the exception of some attacks and raids conducted by the AMiB. The attacks kept going throughout though the end result was always the same - Kundrati victory.

A highway was nearby which would allow the troops to easily move to Al Habalah and towards Misul from there. A separate operation would be conducted under Commodore Alexei Mahalain with the corvette assigned to the area KUnS Etxea and a patrol ship to attack Al Habalah and perhaps try and take the town.

Out of fear of potential attacks, the corvette moved from Ridazz up to Al Habalah alongside a patrol ship which was moved from the island to Al Habalah. Around 1,000 soldiers would be sent there in addition whom would face off around 3,500 troops of the AMiB.

The attack began during the night of 24 June. They pushed past the river and, instead of following the hgihway, they followed the coastline and fought some resistance towards the outskirts of Al Habalah. There they met some more resistance which slowed the offensive down.

The fighting continued throughout 24 June and continuing past 25 June. The battle was fierce with door-to-door actions and gun fighting. Another 500 troops would be sent as reinforcement on 26 June which started to help take the town. In addition some bombing runs all around the outskirts and insides of Al Habalah towards military troops and supplies. The bombing, admittedly, was messy with some civilian casualties - plus the corvette firing some missiles towards the port of Al Habalah may become a problem for Kundrati...

However, in the early morning on 27 June the town was captured after soldiers surrounded the local town hall and raised the Badaran and Kundrati flags side-by-side. It would take two more days before the town would fully be under allied control. About 210 people would die with another 400 injured from the Kundrati forces with another 385 dead and 842 injured for the AMiB. The rest of the force wouldall be arrested and slowly shipped off to Badaran troops to be tried by their justice system.

More troops would transfer from the small island and Ridazz to Al Habalah. In addition, another 3,000 soldiers would be ordered to headquarter at Al Habalah alongside the 5,000 stationed at the nearby island between the two rivers. That would constitute almost all of Kundrati's total force in Badara.

A week or two was taken to work on Al Habalah's defenses and repair various buildings alongside restoring humanitarian facilities there as civilians were included in the casualty count during the siege of Al Habalah.

In Misul, there were larger defenses. Air defenses were also set up due to the existence of Kundrati and Badaran air support, in addition to around 25,000 soldiers in Misul and natural hills and defenses due to Misul being higher up than the coasts that troops in Al Habalah would be used to. Soldiers would have to climb these defenses - though it would be easy to take the highway up north it was laid with checkpoints and booby traps.

It was therefore decided to seek help. At least 25,000 soldiers of their own would be required - so all 10,000 soldiers of Kundrati's expeditioniary force alongside 15,000 more Badaran troops.

Some discussions were held with some Badaran war leaders who, in the end, promised and sent 10,000 more soldiers. If Mendico were clever, the 5,000 troop deficit would be fine enough to move.

The plan would be thus: move to Thukaka as a distraction to move some troops in Misul away. Then bombers and fighters would go nuts before the soldiers would move through the highway slowly to deal with the booby traps before surrounding the city and moving in.

The plan would begin on 8 July. Until then, the troops would train and prepare as the Badaran supply would move in.

A few days later...

8 July came. The troops would begin to move out of Al Habalah with around 2,000 soldiers being sent to Thukaka and the rest moving to Misul. The troops assigned to Thukaka would make it to a side-highway in between Al Habalah and Thukaka before a lot of resistance was met. Some jets would be sent to the area to attack the ASiB troops in that area.

The fighting would be fierce as it was in Al Habalah. The fighting, although intense, was slowly turning against Kundrati-Badara due to the troop numbers problem - 2,000 soldiers from Kundrati and Badara against maybe 5,000 or 6,000 from ASiB. Troops from Al'Buqiyaa would also slowly make their way to Thukaka and towards the fight as Thukaka laid in between Al Habalah and the larger Al'Buqiyaa which is technically a Governorate capital. That fighting would last from 8 July to around 15 July when the Kundrati forces slowly made their way to Thukaka though they would be unable to take the town.

But it was the fighting that also moved some troops out of Misul. This helped things a lot as the rest of the Kundrati-Badara force would slowly move in. Around 18,000 Kundrati-Badara troops would meet 22,000 soldiers from the ASiB.

The 25 jets would begin to bomb the outskirts of Misul alongside the troops leaving Misul for the distraction fight near Thukaka. That bombing run would be successful as it blocked these troops from returning to Misul. Another bombing run would also happen on the highway north of Misul which was successful - however in the course of both of these bombings 6 planes would be shot down. The bombing runs would take most of 8-9 July to finalize.

The AMiB troops in Misul began to fight against more allied Kundrati-Badara troops by 10 July when most of the allied force arrived. With the bombing of two highways past Misul and allied soldiers on the other highway Misul would be virtually surrounded and it would be easy for allied troops to surround the town.

So, on 11 July bombing campaigns began with the aim of either destroying Misul or forcing them to surrender.

The bombing campaign also included some artillery from both Kundrati and Badara. The buildings on the outskirts of the town would be the hardest hit throughout the whole campaign due to the fighting on both sides. On several occasions the fighting got so bad that Brigadier general Mendico went himself to fight and command from the battlelines itself. The fighting continued slowly towards the inside of Misul as allied troops moved slowly and slowly towards the interior of the city.

Bombing continued throughout the week and into the next. The front would slowly move like a turtle as Misul was a very big city and the AMiB threw everything it had at it from human shields to gunfire to stolen artillery. In that same period 4 other planes went down. One plane would even be stolen and, though it wasn't effective given the inexperience of the AMiB on the Soko J-22, it did cause some fear. That plane was forced to be shot down a day later on 20 July as the plane was above a hospital. The plane debris caused major damage to the hospital and a nearby apartment complex.

On 26 July, given the situation in Misul, the AMiB garrison in Thukaka would attempt to retreat to Misul. This meant Thukaka would finally be captured - although knowing now of the highway of death in between Misul and Thukaka these soldiers near Thukaka would be slowly killed off by some planes which was sent to the area alongside a few hundred Kundrati-Badara troops.

With that allied troops were freed up to fight in Misul. A small hundreds-sized garrison would remain while most of the 2,000 remaining were sent to Misul.

This helped to turn things around. On 28 July, as these troops entered the fight, allied troops would be first spotted in the insides of Misul.

A day later the AMiB force would retreat to the downtown of Misul. By this point most of the bombing was focused at the downtown area. Conditions all around Misul would be very dire and the destruction of the city would be vast with few buildings surviving. Soldiers behind the front lines would be sent to maintain law and order and to provide humanitarian assistance however and wherever they could.

On 29 July allied troops entered the downtown area and moved immediately towards the main government buildings of the city. Fighting would slowly halt until, in the late night of 29 July the Kundrati and Badaran flags would be raised in the balcony of the city hall of Misul.

A day later ASiB forces surrendered in Misul. The rest of the week heading into August would be consolidation of control in Misul, Thukaka and Al Habalah. Humanitarian assistance would begin to be rendered throughout Misul and Thukaka with work towards rebuilding hospitals and trying to find doctors and sending them to the affected citizens.

The troops would hold at Misul. They won't advance as time would be spent on restoring order, rebuilding the administration, and rebuilding hospitals and other humanitarian buildings.

[BananaZebra]

DECEMBER 4, 5403 (Backdated)
Ship fleeing Ras al-Ulima
Waters near Deiqah
(PART ONE)

The ship rocked side to side on the troubled waves. A storm had descended not too long after the ship left the harbor of Ras al-Ulima, and had not let up over the past few days of on-and-off storms brewing overhead.

Ali leaned back into the cold wall he was using to support himself, letting out ragged breaths in the most controlled manner he could given the circumstances. His stomach felt like hot water sloshing around in a plastic bag, and its contents threatened to expel themselves at every lurch of the boat.

The compartment he was in was crammed full of other refugees, huddled in the clothes they were wearing and whatever they could grab and carry in sacks and backpacks when their lives changed forever.

Ali had hesitated when the evacuation order was issued, as had most of the others with him on the converted cargo ship carrying them to Mu’tasim. His family, like the families of many others he had talked to, were still in Nashwa. Ghuzaila, his wife, was still trapped in the siege of Misul after her flight back to Ras al-Ulima was canceled in the aftermath of the early days of the civil war.

He passed his days thinking of their reunion in Mu’tasim. The government was making great efforts to reunite families in refugee compounds upon verifying relationships, so Ali hoped he would be able to find his wife in short order.

Next to Ali sat Mahuroos, a refugee who had fled from Bab al-Mira to join the evacuation of Ras al-Ulima. He was nice enough for company on this fevre dream Ali found himself thrust into, and he smelled of pears - which was a nice reprieve from the… usual odor of the ship.

“My cousin is waiting in Bier Qassem. Well, the refugee camp nearby.” Mahuroos said, leaning in close so he could be heard over the crowd and the groans of the ship. “You got anyone waiting?”

Ali shook his head.

“My wife is stuck in Misul.” he said.

The person to his left, a refugee with a scar running down his right cheek, spoke up

“Dead, you mean.”

Ali stiffened.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“She’s dead. Misul has certainly fallen by now. No escape, so… she’s dead.”

“She’s not-”

“The sooner you come to terms with it, the better off you’ll be.” The refugee stood up, turning his back on Ali. Head bent over his shoulder, he continued. “But if you want to waste the next few years hoping your wife survived the fall of Misul, it’s your life to live.”

He climbed the stairs to the deck, and Ali followed.

“Don’t.” Mahuroos called out.

But Ali climbed up nonetheless.

Outside, it was pitch black. Apparently it was now night, though Ali had not felt like it had been that long. The man stood leaning against the railing, looking out over the dark waters. It was still drizzling, though the storm had ceased for now.

Ali lit a cigarette he held in his teeth, and the man turned to look at him.

“Sorry to be so blunt. But it’s true. The… rebels took Misul yesterday.” the man said.

“How would you know that?” Ali asked. “Ras al-Ulima has been in a media blackout for months, and no post is delivered.”

The man shook his head.

“I’m not from Ras al-Ulima. They let me in the city to join on this trip.” he explained. “I’m from Khamra. The president announced it.” the man said. “My name is Raheem, by the way.”

“Ali.” he replied, shaking the man’s hand.

Ali offered his cigarette.

“No thanks,” Raheem said. “Never got into them.”

“Do yourself a favor and never do.” Ali said with a coarse chuckle. “You’re sure the city has fallen?”

“Yes.”

“But surely they had time to evacuate?” Ali asked.

“No.”

Ali looked down at the waves crashing against the hull of the ship.

“Well, I have to hope.”

“Hope? Little good that did, when my brother hoped for our parents to be spared. Those dogs killed them, and he killed himself not long after. Now, I only hope for my revenge. The monsters who killed my family will pay, and soon.”

Ali sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. They didn’t die for nothing. I’ll avenge them. Soon.”

Ali didn’t want to know what that meant.

“I’m going to head back down. It’s cold.” Raheem said.

Ali nodded.

“It is. But I’ve got to finish this.” he said, holding up his cigarette. “Can’t waste it, it cost a fortune.”

Raheem sighed.

“You shouldn’t smoke those.”

“I know, they’re bad for me. Trust me, Ghuzaila reminded me enough.” Ali said, taking a drag. “My wife.”

Raheem chuckled.

“She sounds like a smart lady. She religious?” he asked.

“Sort of. Not, like, a radical or anything.” Ali replied.

“Well, she’s right. Not to be a “radical” as you put it, but the Prophet forbids it.”

Ali rolled his eyes.

“And now, you sound like my mom.”

Raheem shrugged.

“It’s your life.”

Raheem turned, walking away from Ali without saying another word.

Ali chuckled, and took another drag.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Raheem stop. He did not, in fact, go back below deck. He stood, talking with another man who Ali could not quite make out in the dark. The man handed something to Raheem, and the two spoke in hushed voices that Ali could barely hear over the ocean and its waves.

Ali finished his cigarette, flicking it overboard.

He watched the cherry as it fell towards the water, extinguishing on the waves below.

Ali watched the waves crash, over and over, into the boat. It was soothing, like a rippling pool of black glass crowned with pearls.

Looking to the sky he found his wife’s favorite constellation, hoping that somewhere - somehow - his wife was looking at the same stars as him.

[alaskancrabpuffs21]

Dolgavan Airforce A400M Atlas Flying into Baltusia's Capital Johnston

"Commander we are reaching the International Airport we have clearance to land". The intercom inside the A400M blared. A young man wearing a leather jacket, aviator sunglasses and smoking a large cigar. He had blond wavy hair and carried a large bored revolver on his belt. He didn't give a damn about what anyone thought of him, he had direct orders from the Prime Minister and Queen, the orders were simple "Get Dolgavans the hell out of there".

Major General Kristofer Vaher had risen through the ranks of the Dolgavan Airforce in the logistics department. He had been chosen to conduct this mission because high command thought he was the best man for the job. The plane touched down and taxied. Dolgavan Air Force Special Forces known as the "Sky Raiders" were waiting ready to move out and head the short trip from the Airport to the Embassy that was a staging area to get Dolgavans out. The tail ramp of the plane opened as Major General Kristofer Vaher hopped into the command vehicle which had "diplomatic mission" written all over it to keep it from being stopped. He glanced at the tarmack, several other countries had planes of all shapes and sizes hurrying to get their diplomats and people out.

"Ok boys lets move". He yelled over the radio as the engines sprang to life inside of the Dorvish made ATF Dingo. A hodgepodge and hectic scene was taking place on the tarmac but soldiers from one of the countries guided traffic. They quickly made their way out of the airport which was abandoned. Baher looked through the command screen of the Dingo at the streets of Johnston. The streets were barren and empty. They passed only a few cars, lots of garbage and tons of burned out buildings, cars and such. The protests were being cracked down upon but extremely harshly. He then saw Baltusian police officers in riot gear and with gas masks and heavily armed but the Dolgava convoy kept driving. If they were to be stopped there would be problems but the Government seemingly hadn't stopped anyone, and previous Dolgavan convoys had made it through fine.

"Turn left" Vaher said as his truck the lead in the convoy passed through the embassy part of Johnston. Normally a quiet stretch of Johnston, now it was barren like the rest. They pulled up in front of the embassy and quickly got out. Kristofer did as well and greeted a women who looked tired, had thick glasses, blond hair and was emotionally and physically exhausted. It was the Dolgavan ambassador to Baltusia Julie Mauss who had been up all night long for nearly a week straight. Kristofer ordered his men to enter the embassy and get the last people out. He approached the ambassador and said "This is our last mission out of here. Its time you come with us, you need to get out of this hell hole. She had a face of someone who had seen and been through hell and back. As his men evacuated the embassy staff he looked up and down the streets, the distant sounds of people were and the movement of his men were the thing that could be heard. Suddenly a Sargent appeared next to the ambassador and said "we have cleared the embassy, we will lock it up and put it on high security, if anything happens the Dolgavan Government will know. Can we start doing that sir"? Before he could respond the ambassador spoke "Yes, I need to get my things, they are by"... The Sargent lifted up her bags saying "Right here ma'am".

The ambassador apologized saying "I haven't slept in a week, I have been living off coffee and just so so afraid..." Kristofer nodded and offered his hand for her to hold, she obliged and he led her to the command vehicle. He made sure everyone had entered the vehicles of the convoy before he did, the last one to do so. He sat next to the ambassador who was still nervous.

The ride back to the airport was uneventful and quick. Hey glanced to see protesters down one of the streets but only for a few seconds. This part of town was so odd, so quiet. As they entered back onto the tarmac they began loading vehicles into the A400Ms. When this process had completed Kristofer said "Ok now lets get the hell out of here".

As the plane left the runway all Dolgavans had left Baltusia. The last of a week long mission was over and the last of over 10 flights for Major General Kristofer Vaher was over. Next to him sat the ambassador who now had changed. Instead of tense she was beginning to let herself realize she was safe, she began to let go. Suddenly the ambassador rested her head on the Major General's shoulder exhaustion finally taking over.

[hyraemous]

KundRATi
Somewhere in Radkovice - 2 February 5415

You would think that Radkovice would be a nice big city worthy of the Kundrati name. It's right next to the capital of Kasaema and the city was essentially a sattelite city of the capital. Perhaps for journalist Clodianus Kaligula Aranieta it was a disadvantage.

She held a flash drive that contained Irantzu Hirigoinaphal's various voice notes. Those voice notes involved a little backroom deals between President Hirigoinaphal and the head of the Kundrati Weapons Manufacturer who designed the KU 800 BREN and was slowly working on an improved version, the 801 BREN. The President, in these voice files, ordered the KWM head to give massive discounts to the Kundrati government for buying guns for the Kundrati Armed Forces.

There was another series of voice notes however. Communications between the Kundrati embassy in Yishelem and the Kundrati Foreign Office regarding the King of Beiteynu alongside plans to intervene in Selucia were the main subject of these voice notes and it was in these notes that a plan to send military troops to Selucia was found. Should these ever be sent to any news agency it would bring down the Kundrati government as fast as Metrogate which brought down the Socialist Labour Party some 200 years ago.

So for Clodianus Kaligula Aranieta, it was important she kept the flash drive to herself. But she was already being watched, after all she was known for roaming around the Kundrati Foreign Office in search of rumors and the like. That flash drive was taken from an auxilliary office of the Kundrati Foreign Office here in Radkovice...

...and it had a little tracker inside it.

Aranieta went to a restaurant having the flash drive on her dress. It was somewhat empty, being in the late morning after all, right before lunchtime. The restaurant had maybe 7 other people in it excluding the staff, and Aranieta was planning on having a short breakfast before heading to the Kasaema Guardian via a short train ride.

Suddenly a van stopped in front of the restaurant. A man in a dark jacket walked out and entered the restaurant. The man approached her and sat next to her.

She never saw the man and never knew the man...

...but he knew her.

In a moment, he grabbed a knife and stabbed her once in the throat. Both of them struggled before the man managed to stab her one more time in the abdomen. He took the flash drive before slamming the knife in the heart oce more before grabbing the knife alongside the flash drive and running away. The man jumped into the van and the van began to speed off with the doors slammed soon after.

Aranieta's stabbing was witnessed by the staff of the restaurant and the other customers. None of them had intervened, thinking the others would do so, but when the man ran off phone calls to the emergency services filled the room. Within a couple of minutes, paramedics and the police arrived. In a short time Aranieta was taken to the ambulance and soon after to the hospital, however it would be too late as she died en route.

The police would lock down the restaurant and the surrounding area, checking surveillance cameras and asking witnesses what happened.

And the man...

...well by the time the death of the journalist was confirmed, he was already at an apartment in between Kasaema and Radkovice cleaning his jacket and taking a shower, without the flash drive as he gave it to another person who was already fast on his way to the Foreign Intelligence Service headquarters.

[GreekIdiot]

What: Dolgavan Airforce A400M Atlas Flying into Baltusia's Capital Johnston
Where: Baltusia
When: Sometime in the early hours of Dec 03, 5329

OOC: Sorry guys, testing stuff xD

[Augustus Germanus]

18:25 AM, 16 February, 5422 - Sankt Erwinsburg, Dovmark, Kingdom of Davostag

A man, known to us simply as The Councillor, of age 51 entered the small conference room, as usual, clad in an elegant dark suit and grey tie. For the occasion he had removed his pin, unnecessary attention could prove fatal for someone like him. The room he entered, while a conference room, none actually used it for any good reason; it was dark, grey, built in an almost brutalist architecture, which is not the common standard in the country, seeing as most domestic architects, long incentivised by the government, promoted what they call "elegant rationalism", which in retrospect is just a combination of rationalist, minimalist and classical architecture. Though, some bitter critics call it "brutalism with a nice face", while others see no difference between it and totalitarian style.
In this so-called conference room, the man, authoritative in his body language, met the eyes of the visitors present. The room fell silent. He immediately took his seat at the head of the oblong table. "I hear things I do not wish hear. Care for an explanation?" he said.
The room remained in silence. He took a good look at the people around the table. Most were men, but there were women as well, and most had viewed the meeting as a formal occasion and dressed themselves accordingly, others – the more vulgar ones – could not care less, they had leather jackets or just simple long-sleeved shirts. The uniform colour was dark. Though this mixed well in terms of shading with the pale skins and light eyes and hair.
"Ya might here things... but so do we... so do the younger lads and lass, those craving a fight. They think ya lot robbed them of their justice. They think ya play the-" The Councillor interrupted the man.
"Not another word." He stared at him for a few seconds in silence before turning his gaze to the others. He arose from his chair and began to slowly walk around the table.
"Robbed them? Is that they what they think? If anything we lighted the cause on such a fire that it continues to live in the minds of the entire country... and will most likely do so for some time. Do not speak to me about robbing. If anything, it is those same boys and girls who pushed for the division of the party. And for what? Now the entire voter-base is in chaos. The left is growing stronger and stronger. There was a clear agreement. You on one side fighting at arms, us at the other signing the papers. And now look... we just lost our first election in the history of the democratic state. The government will be completely alien from now on. Thanks to those 'lads and lass'."
He came back to his seat. "And what now? I hear you have brought forward your stockpiles. You intend to start car-bombing again? To-" He was interrupted by one of the women.
"Do not speak as if you are any better. Have you forgotten what you yourself fought for all those years ago? My memory is pretty clear of you wearing the same ski-mask as the rest of us. As one of us."
"Aye. That was many years ago, but I have not and will not forget what we fought for. The war is over but the struggle carries on into the political arena, since you lot clearly destroyed that for all of us. That is why I chose the party over the front. The latter must remain dormant for the moment, until the former can recover from the injuries inflected on it."
An older man spoke. "What you say may be true. But that does not change the fact that the left is strong. And world history shows us that anything could happen, so who is to say that the party regains its strength and position? Who is to say that the left and the now social 'liberal democrats' will ever lose another election? We might have to wait 70 years as they had to do. If the party simply did what it needed to do in 5350 we could have avoided all of this."
The Councillor remained in silence, deep in thought. "What is done is done. We can not change the past, but we can influence the present to shape the future. You simply need to remain in place and have patience."
The bickering continued, going back and forth and back and forth. Until the most senior of the vistors, who had remained silent and listened to the whole ordeal, finally spoke. The room quickly fell silent again. All eyes was at him. "Councillor. We shall let it be as is. Our boys and girls will fall in line, but so must yours. Tell the chairman that we expect action and results now, tell him to begin the work for revival. Or he will have to leave his post to the more fresh and eager comrades of his. The peace will only continue should he keep his promise."

[Nileowen_]

10:46 AM, 27 August 5422 - Research Facility Onset, located outside [REDACTED], Santiago, United States of Baltusia

"Subject 1-1-6, please prepare yourself for experimentation in approximately 19 minutes. I repeat that is for subject 1-1-6." the intercom rang out, breaking the stillness of Nelson's cell. Technically it wasn't a cell, the paperwork said it was called a 'secure housing unit for subjects', but Nelson thought that was complete rubbish. It was a cell, complete with the metal door, the bed attached to the wall, the toilet and sink combined into one, the lack of a window and thankfully, a TV. The TV only had basic channels, including BNN and Johnston Times broadcasts, but it was enough to stave off madness. Nelson turned his hand over, and saw that his tattoo remained. The tattoo, located just below the palm on the wrist, contained a barcode along with the words 'Subject 118', a brutal sign of his imprisonment here.

Nelson stood up from his bed, still groggy from the previous night. He looked at the time on the TV, which read '9:38', though it failed to state whether it was AM or PM. Looking at his cell's wall, Nelson pondered upon how he had gotten here. Congress had passed a simple law requiring citizens who also had foreign citizenship to register it with the state. Nelson, being the busy man that he was, forgot to register his, and because he worked in the National Intelligence Bureau, he was arrested and charged with espionage and conspiracy once his citizenship was found out. After being sentenced to life he was taken by the government as 'category X' FASS inmate, before being drugged and waking here yesterday. He hadn't yet been let out of his cell, and judging by the single piece of paper he'd been given, which listed the oppressive rules and regulations of the 'facility', he would not be let out until his number was called.

Later

Nelson looked at the time again, which read '11:09'. He sighed, wondering how so little time could pass while feeling like an eternity. As he wondered, the small hatch for food on his door opened, and 8 crackers, an orange and a what appeared to be a 500ml water bottle were slipped through. Nelson hoped that meal only counted as a snack, but somehow he doubted it. While eating his food, the intercom rang out again. "Subject 1-1-8, please prepare yourself for initial medical check-up and project assignment in 14 minutes. I repeat that is for subject 1-1-8.". Sighing, Nelson cleaned himself up in preparation. Then came a knock on the door. "1-1-8, place your hands through the slot in order to be cuffed" stated a gruff and slightly muffled voice. Nelson complied, and stepped away once such was completed. The door opened, and Nelson saw two heavily armed and armoured guards waiting for him. Both of them wore gas mask with tinted lenses, preventing him from seeing their eyes. "Move subject, I don't want to waste the researchers' time." issued the same guard that spoke earlier, whom Nelson assumed was the more senior of the two. Following the senior guard with the junior one walking behind him, Nelson got see outside his cell for the first time in 2 days. He noticed that he was in a block with roughly 30 cells, and judging by the layout it would be trivial for any escape attempts to be contained. As he follow the guards, he noticed the signs along the way, which implied that he was in block 3 of 4 and that there was also and an 'isolation wing' and where he was being lead, the 'research wing'. In the wing he was ordered to sit on a medical bed, and so began the hours of examinations.

They started off normal enough with what one would normal get at a check-up. Temperature measurement, weight measurement, blood pressure readings, the stuff everyone gets with the practitioner. But then came the more unusual exams, the MRI, CT and PET scans, many biopsies, several body fluid cultures and countless injections. After what felt like an eternity, he was sat in front of the 'Head Researcher' of the facility. "Afternoon 1-1-8, I am the head researcher here, and having read the medical results from your exams, I have decided that you will be assigned to WBD-002, so if you hear any calls for all WBD-002 subjects, that applies to you now.". Before Nelson could even begin to open his mouth, the head indicated to the guards to take him out of the room. As he was walked back to his cell, it slowly dawned upon him that this was his life now, a subject in some experiment which he will never know the purpose of.

[Elena1012]

Újmakon, Alt-Ginbár, Provisional Government of Free Endralon

Balla Vanessza sat down at the kitchen table and opened the letter she had received with glee. She hadn't gotten a letter from her son in a few weeks and with the Battle of Maloselo occuring, she had been worried. As she opened it, the thoughts of "what if he had died?" briefly flashed across her mind. She ignored the thoughts as best as she could and opened the letter fully. Relief crossed her mind as her son was well and alive. However the contents of the letter were what she never expected of her own son.

"Hey mom, so it's been a few weeks since they finally deployed us. They want us to write more often now so we are apparently reminded of what we're fighting for. Works for me as I get to write more to you. The war is going well. Made friends with the other guys, and it's quite fun. Maloselo was our first deployment. Beautiful city. Sucks it had to experience the war but it is what it is. I think the biggest thing that stuck out from Maloselo was that I shot a man mom. I shot a man. He had a family. Like us. Did he have kids? Parents? A lover? A family waiting for him at home? I killed him. And it felt.. it felt nice mom. I thought I'd feel bad eventually but it felt nice. I had to shoot more people and it felt nice still. I saw the life drain out of several people. And I enjoyed it mom. I don't know how long this war is going to last. I need to wrap this up but I'll tell you whatever's new in the next letter. Yours truly, László."

As she finished reading, tears began to blotch out the ink, and she put the letter down, tears flowing down her cheeks. She put her hands over her face and weeped on the kitchen table over what her son, her boy had become. She could only hope the war would end soon, so that her son would not only love but regret what had happened. As she weeped, long into the evening, she only knew one thing; the war had changed her son, for worse.

[jebjab]

Outside of Jildrati City, Etxea

Luzilio Lavarte. leaned on the wooden railway of the balcony, finding himself appreciating the uncomfortable nighttime chill as he peered over the boardwalk below him.

The water of the bay was choppier than usual, and the sun had long since set, but the scene had a certain serenity to it. A gust of wind hit Luzilio, jolting him back into the reality that stood behind him.

Perhaps, more accurately, the two realities that stood behind him.

Their names were Raul Iribar and Alexej Jerabek. Like Luzilio, they were there for a reason. In fact, for the same reason as him. Unfortunately, they knew, their priorities were not as similar.

Luzilio scratched his beard and looked up at Raul, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily. He opened them again, almost as though he was hoping he was in a dream.

He smiled thinly.

“Admiral Jerabek, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He turned to Raul.

“Raul, we are scheduled to meet in a week. Why are you here? More pressure from Nikolic?”

Raul frowned.

“Unfortunately. He has our R&D team down at the Navy Ministry making progress on the propulsion systems. Combined diesel or gas, higher efficiency, he says. The VLS cells are almost ready for installation. The more advanced stuff I don’t know about. Says we’re working on it with the Foreign Ministry.”

“You know why we’re here,” interjects Admiral Jerabek, “the naval situation on the continent is becoming increasingly volatile by the moment. If the President can start putting steel down in a drydock, it makes a statement. We understand you all in Etxea have your own way of doing business, but we need contracts signed fast.”

Luzilio looked over to Jerabek. “You and I both know the Navy isn’t negotiating in good faith. I’m going to need assurances if I’m going to start shelling out money for this project. It needs to be real. I’m done playing games with the politicians and their little games. And you know exactly what I mean.”

Raul speaks again. “You can have all the assurance you want. It’s real. Once development is done, construction begins in Jildrati City. Come into my office Saturday morning. We’ll have the paperwork drawn up. “

“But–”

“If you still want to be uncooperative, remember how much money the President is keen on splashing around. That’s going to the yards in Papoc if not to you. They’ll sign whatever we want.”

The three muttered some more words, and the two Navy men turned around and left.

Five days later, central Kaesama

Luzilio stood in the elevator, nervously tapping the floor with his shoes. He hadn’t been to a government office in a couple of years, mostly focused with increasingly-lucrative civilian freighter and tanker contracts.

Nonetheless, he always knew his previous connections to the Navy would come back to bite him eventually.

The door opened to the second floor, and he walked down the hall, turning into Raul’s office. Raul put down his phone and gestured Luzilio to the seat across the desk from him.

“The Navy guys already ironed out the contract with your guys. I don’t think we have much more to talk about here, unless you have some kind of objection. I already sent this to you.”

“You know the money isn’t as good as I could make working with Aguiñalde or some guy like him. I’m doing you all a favor.”

Raul looked at Luzilio with displeasure, sensing his obvious discontent.

“If you take this contract, the money we allocated to you for this project isn’t all you’re gonna be getting. I’m not talking bribes. I mean – ah – what I told you last night. You can go back to building bulk carriers or whatever once this all settles down. You run one of the biggest shipyards in Kundrati. You’ve been getting government money for the last 100 years.”

Luzilio nodded.

“Alright, I’ll sign the thing. What’s the timeline look like?”

“Well, we’re thinking now that the VLS system is making progress, once we iron out the details of the electronics and the PESA system, we can start construction. We’re hoping for 5437, but it could go as long as 5442 depending on the details. If people cooperate like you, closer to the former. My guys in the party say they don’t think this National Coalition stuff is going to fizzle out for a long time. Really, it’s like Tsankov’s deal with FK and KD. I’m sure your grandparents got a lot of help from them.”

Kundrati Naval Shipbuilders' Company, Kaesama, 2 weeks later

Raul stood beside a whiteboard, pen in hand, looking ahead at the few dozen engineers, bureaucrats, and researchers looking back at him rather intently.

“You have all received the information you need. The project is a go. We have the contracts signed with the shipbuilders, now it’s just up to you. These systems aren’t easy, and we’re expecting to subcontract with some foreign firms for C&C equipment that we don’t have the capacity to build yet ourselves.”

He drew a line on the board, marking the line starting in 5427.

“Here we are now. I don’t know the exact status of the VLS system but it looks good from what I’ve seen. Someone needs to brief me after this.”

He marked 5435.

“We already have PESA technology in our planes and on our ships. The technology is not difficult, in fact, it’s arguably out of date, but it does what we need. What we want, specifically, is the capacity to track 400 targets – air and land targets – we want automatic target detection, confirmation and initiation, and we want active mid-course missile guidance during flight. We want you to keep an eye on the availability of AESA technology or even a hybrid between the two systems. The Ministry will keep our own eye on this, and keep you all updated. Regardless, naval and aerial AESA technology development is a priority, but likely 5-10 years out on its own.”

He moved onto 5437.

“Integration at this point. Here, we hope to have the division working on the engine coordinating with you all working on the electrical tech. Armaments will be subcontracted, that will be no issue. We hope to have the ship being built by this time optimistically.”

He ended the line at the final year of the project, 5445, and pointed to the year 5442.

“What can I say? In 5442, there are three years until the end of the project. If we don’t start building by then, the project is essentially a failure, we’re wasting money, and you everyone in here is on the chopping block. I trust that we need not worry about deadlines.”

Union Aerospace Company Kundrati, that weekend

Raul was seated at the front of the table. He was pleased at how quickly he had gotten approval to begin the project.

“Again, we hope to gain some international assistance on this. I can’t say from who – I genuinely don’t know – but if we can’t secure that, you have 15 years to do it on your own. Consider the project started. I want the missiles to be ready to launch in 5442.

I want all flight sequences, altitudes, and ranges to be tested starting before 1539. Before 1541, testing against live targets. 1542, ready for deployment. This is a generous timeline. It can be extended if circumstances call for it. This is laid out in the contract.”