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Sufficient Velocity World 1 (SVW1) IC Thread

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Snippets from the ANoBTEI, 2010: Brainchild
date point: may 2, 1999
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Dr. Gonsa

The project worked! I had to use a few mechanical parts and make a couple substitutions, but Rose is alive! The first artificially produced Arctic Kitsune is alive! She's already able to sit up on her own, but doesn't seem to know how to walk, or use her vocal chords effectively.

date point: may 3, 1999
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Dr. Gonsa

I should have expected this really. I've done a thorough analysis of Rose's cognitive faculties, and they're nearly identical to a naturally conceived newborn infant. As such I will be administering growth inhibitors for the next five years, until her mental capabilities catch up to her body.

Addendum: the government has gotten involved. Rose now officially has citizenship of the ANoBTEI, and I've been registered as her mother. I wasn't planning to do anything unpleasant to her anyway, but it's a sobering thought to know "cancelling the experiment" would now legally be considered murder.

date point: october 20, 2000
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Dr. Gonsa

Rose said her first complete sentence today! it was very simple "Mom, I want more cookies!". Nutritionally unsound, and I did my best to explain the issues at play; but it was a full sentence!

I'm worried what might happen if we don't find a peer group for Rose somehow; her more-developed body makes putting her with children her own age problematic, and putting her with natural-born five year olds would be a recipe for disaster. In addition, the problems inherent with a child not having any peers during the first few years of life are well known.

As such, I've opted to produce a sibling for Rose by the same means I created her. It won't be a perfect solution, but the two of them should be able to keep each other company until I can take them both off the growth inhibitors. I'm naming Rose's little brother Thorn.

date point: march 4, 2003
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Dr. Gonsa

Rose will be enrolled in pre-school this year. I've already taught her how to read and write, but I'm worried how she'll relate to the other children. She's almost caught up to her body, mentally speaking, but she will still be notably bigger than most of her classmates.

On a less happy note, I made an error in my rush to create Thorn. Nothing life-threatening, thankfully. But there is a mismatch between her brain and her endocrine system, resulting in what amounts to a little girl's brain stewing in male hormones (though thankfully not quite so bad yet, as she hasn't entered puberty). In layman's terms, Thorn is trans.

Looking over my work, the issue is simply that I re-used the pattern to make Rose's brain for Thorn. I'm considering making a third, but that can wait until the first two are in school and I have time to take care of him.

I've tried to explain the issue to Thorn, but she doesn't seem to quite understand yet. I'll mention it to her again in a few years time, when she might be able to understand it better.

date point: may 2, 2004
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Dr. Gonsa

Rose is five years old today. I got her a do it yourself robotics kit as a birthday present, which she seems to like a lot.
I'm also happy to report that I took Rose off her growth inhibitors today! She's settled into pre-school well, and gets along with her classmates. Apparently being openly artificial like she is makes her quite popular among children immersed in the characteristic Tish attitude towards science. Her academic performance has been exemplary as well.

Meanwhile, Thorn is starting to openly question their own nature. She's turned out to be a voracious reader as well; finding age-appropriate literature that doesn't patronize her has been a challenge, but I think I've just about kept up with her insatiable demand for books.

date point: april 10, 2008
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Rose

Hi facny science people! Mom's sick and had to go to the hospital, but one of her friends from work is keeping an eye on us.

I made a teslacoil with Thorn too! it shoots cool lightning bolts everywhere and we tried roasting marshmallows with it! They caught on fire, but once we put them out they were still tasty.

...I hope mom comes home soon.

date point: april 14, 2008
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Dr. Gonsa

Well the good news is that I'm expected to make a full recovery, and I've been sent home already. At the very least I won't be able to get appendicitis twice, but this has definitely been the least pleasant week of my life, period. Thankfully neither of my children will have to suffer this particular malady; the Appendix was one of the organs I left out to simplify their construction.

The bad news is that between the two of them Rose and Thorn almost caused a house fire with that teslacoil they built. After some thorough explanations of fire safety they're a fair bit more careful when using it, at the very least.

date point: october 1, 2008
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Dr. Gonsa

Today Thorn asked for me to make her into a girl. I'd been expecting this day for a while now, especially with her repeatedly asking about the subject over the last year or so.

I asked how thorough she wanted me to be, and Thorn answered that she wanted it all the way like her sister. As such, I'm currently preparing several new organs for installation. I estimate that all the preparation for her transition operation will be complete within two weeks.

date point: october 22, 2008
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Dr. Gonsa

Total success, I've fully transitioned Thorn to a female body! Admittedly she technically died on the operating table a couple times, but I revived her before any neurological damage could take place. Rose wanted to watch, and I let her do so through a one way video link. When I talked to her afterwards she was both fascinated and kind of grossed out by what surgery entailed.

As for Thorn, I used a parlytic and a long term memory blocker during the operation. I would have used general anaesthetic, but that can have nasty long-term effects on a developing brain. Either way it prevented any psychological scarring, and Thorn's quite happy with the results.

date point: may 2, 2010
Project: Rose
University of Aurora Peak, Synthetic Biology Department
Dr. Gonsa

It's Rose's eleventh creation day! I've conspired with Thorn to get the cake and presents ready without her knowing ahead of time, and it's going to be wonderful!

Oh, Rose's class also did some biological experimentation this week; nothing too complex, just reassembling and revivifying some frogs that had been previously dissected. Rose was so sad that she didn't get to bring Mr. Hopper home, but there's infection risks at play there, and given the lack of organ compatibility in the specimens it's probably for the best she doesn't see the long-term effects up close and personal just yet.

As for Thorn, she's apparently decided to take up creative writing. I've encouraged the hobby and pointed her at some helpful resources for new writers. Her first short stories are crude, but I think she has talent.
 
Step Before the Plunge,

or the Big Names of what will be the Second Agni Civil War

The Lawful Dictator​

Nicolis was not an old man. Yes, he was old, it took decades of dedication and hard work to become the General Chief of Staff, but he was not senile. He saw what had become of his beloved country, at how the United Emeralds fought to maintain their power rather than actually address the issues the Agni faced. He was not the only one disturbed by their policy, it was in fact what tore the party apart in the first place, the scandals being the straws that broke the proverbial camel's back. But now the army, in Nicolis Brevens mind, had no other choice.

The power of the government always drew its power from the loyalty of the armed forces, it was founded by military men and its constitution drafted by the soldiers who knew they had to step in before Agnigrad once more devolved into infighting and civil war. Democracy was a mask the Emeralds wore to appease the people and other foreign powers, but that mask had corrupted the party to its very core.

Nicolis did not enjoy what he would have to do next. He knew that the risks were high, and the foundation of Agni society would be cracked forever. But his pride could not stand to see his country warped into some soft or perverted form of itself. He would watch his country burn before he would surrender his power to the enemy.

The (Soon to be) Generalissimo​

"Alright boys. Read 'em and weep!"

The cards hit the table and were accompanied by moans of despair. The colonel reached forward and swept the money towards his end of the table, cackling like a witch.

"Sorry boys, but it looks like I'm raking in the cash tonight!"

The dimly lit backroom was often used for private meetings or, such as now, impromptu gambling dens for the officers. No rules (aside from don't cheat), no ranks, just men playing cards, swapping cash and having fun. In this instance though, quite a large amount of money was being played with the Colonels and Majors present. As the colonel raked in his profits, a voice from the door spoke up.

"Care for one more wager?"

The new arrival, another colonel it seemed, stood with a confident lean and a long fat cigar pinched between his teeth as he grinned to the table. In his hands was a barely regulation bush hat as well as a thick stack of bills. One of the Majors piped up.

"You sure, sir? Doubt you'll last a hand with Witter here, 20 to 1."

The colonel laughed, walking- no, swaggering up to the table. He dropped his cash opposite of the winning colonel and took a seat.

"20 to 1? Hell, I like those odds!" Happily boasted Colonel Conrad Crawl.

The Fire-Brand Revolutionary​

"Boris Yeles was born in Unterostgrad, the eastern port city of the Peasants Republic of Agnigrad in 1959 to a middle income family. His father was an ardent Trade Unionist, but his nationalistic zeal also made him despise socialists as a whole, his disgust with the left leaning groups and conflict heavy relationship with his family pushing Boris further left as a result.

Boris was able to attain a college level education and during his youth associated heavily with several Onyx-aligned groups, some of which have been outlawed as 'pervasive enemies' by the government, and helped facilitate the Onyx League and Ruby Group coalition that has emerged in the wake of the Emerald parties collapse. It was also through his efforts that he sponsored Ivan Yule's 'New Red Party', who's small number of competent members helped manage the coalition despite their 'crimson' philosophy.

Now Boris is poised to yank the elections out from under the established Hazel and Azure front runners, and the anarcho-socialist candidate has already promised sweeping reforms in both the economy and the government…"

The Silvered Socialist​

When one thinks of socialism in Agnigrad, one immediately jumps back to the Red Fall, when Crimson's (or Communists) seized power from the exhausted and collapsing Imperial government and began a bloody revolution that has led to them living in infamy since. Even the Ruby's and Onyx's, once grouped together with them, turned upon the bloody handed communists early in the war thus securing their survival. Since then, many socialist groups live in fear of being branded as crimson sympathizers and only made moderate calls for reform and rarely protested.

Only in recent years did they find more courage under the command of Boris, but Boris Yeles was not the only notable member among the leftists. Ivan Yule, son of a rich millionaire and well educated became disillusioned with the elitist capitalist system and turned to the leftist ideology, soon to become known as the 'Silver-Spooned Socialist'. When his background earned him jeers and closed doors, Evan Yule simply made new doors and formed the New Red party, and made up for its small membership by surgically recruiting key members. Soon, the New Reds could punch above their weight among the socialist circles, but also earned the ire of those same circles as Ivan's philosophy was of a socialized and centralized state as opposed to the traditional decentralized anarcho-socialist school of thought.

It was only through Ivan's skill and wealth, and Boris' own politicking could the New Reds join their efforts into the election, and possibly help secure Boris the victory he needed to achieve the highest of offices in the land.

The Determined Moderate​

Murial Notmann has made waves all throughout her career in politics, for reasons that would be commonplace in other countries. Women's rights, as enshrined by law, is equal to that of men in Agnigrad and they are afforded many protections, but the social psyche of Agnigrad has always shoehorned them into the role of family and at home work. Murial Notmann has shattered many preconceptions built up from this time and has become a front runner for the liberal face of Agni politics. Having achieved office in 1996, she's spent a majority of her career pushing through civil rights for the sexes as well as eroding the autocratic system that Agnigrad functioned under.

Too popular to simply remove and too personally righteous to blackmail or embarrass, the government instead chose to effectively exile her, turning her into a diplomat and ambassador to be sent far away from the political field. Unfortunately, this allowed her to make friends overseas as well as begin her takeover of the numerous liberal parties far from the eyes of the government. When she was able to return to Agnigrad she wasted no time in beating the liberals and reformers into line, founding the Azure Coalition and cementing herself as a thorn in the fragmenting Emerald parties side.

Beaten previously in the last election in 2005, her second bid has found far more success even before the effective collapse of the United Emerald Party. Unlike the Hazel Fronts confrontational nature, she has shown willingness to bargain with and compromise with her political adversaries to achieve unity which has gained reception among Emeralds, Onyx', and Ruby's alike.

- Greater Agnigrad Imperial Informer

The Boss​

An old man sat in the middle of a park, the noise of the city around it muffled by the trees and foliage. The bench he sat at was old and worn, a wrought metal thing installed a decade ago. His weathered hand reached into a paper bag and withdrew a palmful of seed, to which he scattered before him with practiced ease. The pigeons and birds feasted happily, milling about the old man's feet without a care in the world.

Then the birds took flight, spooked by some other presence. The old man felt a presence over his shoulder. The voice whispered into the old mans ear.

"General Breven is planning a coup as expected. We're in position to strike at your order."

Quietly, the old man reached once more into the bag and withdrew some more seed. Gently, he lowered his hand to one of the small swallows that had returned, bravely pecking at the edges of the field of seed. It hopped forward and, after a moment of hesitance, leapt up onto the old man's hand and dipping its head down to begin pecking at the grains he offered. Aside from that, the old man said nothing, but that was more than enough to answer the voice's offer.

"Of course."

He didn't need to look to know the owner of the whispering voice was gone. The old man leaned back in his seat, his thumb idly stroking the feathers of the bird in his hand. The blood would drown the earth itself, the old man knew. That Agnigrad would shutter at the conflict that would arise. But as a wise man once said, it is through chaos heroes arise, order is restored, and glory is guaranteed.

Agnigrad needed heroes, the Boss decided, and he didn't care how much blood had to be spilled to get them.
 
Last edited:
January 6, 2010

TO: IlCassanovaD'Ruvuma@hikitsune.com
FROM: NOTHATWOULD@BEUR.MOTHER

Attached: 1 file

00:00 - XX-XX

*click*

"Why do we have to do this again?"

"Because the last time we sent a message, you were drunk [REDACTED]."

"Haaaaaaah…"

" *clears throat* Alright, that last message was a shitshow, so for posterity and plot and because my superiors ordered me to, you get to hear our lovely voices again...do the thing, [REDACTED]."

" *sighs* Dear Her Majesty the Queen of the Kingdom of the Kuroshio Islands Rosa Littoro-Kuronami, wife to His Majesty the Emperor of the Kingdom of-"

"Get to the point, man."

"...The Republic of Gwrthyriad, after reviewing the deplorable conditions that persist in your Surface Naval Combatants, at the request of the populace who value these ships in their hearts and minds, does extend an offer to fund and care for and maintain for your Surface Navy for a indefinite amount of time."

"See, was that so hard?"

"You didn't have your ass reamed by the Deputy Director for 90 minutes after waking up hungover from a 5 day bender."

"I also wasn't the person who broke into his office and stole his private stash of alcohol."

"Yeahyeahyeah whatever. Why are we even offering to fund the things?"

"Because this is Gwrthyriad and we all have a fascination with wet navy ships, duh."

"Fair enough. But why specifically the Kingdom's ships?"

"Have you seen those girls? All of them are barely cared for, if at all. They have a buildup of barnacles half as thick as my fist below the waterline, they're greener than a jungle, half of their 'high-end' equipment dates back half a century, the other half doesn't work 90% of the time. They're leaking below deck, their wiring is frayed and probably a fire hazard, there's so much mold that it's classified as a separate ecosystem, and there's enough rust on them that you can melt it all down and make another ship entirely out of it."

"...huh, didn't know you knew so much about them."

"I masqueraded as a XO on one of their destroyers in order to steal the schematics on their new AA ship missiles one time. Even managed to smuggle one out in the back of my car."

"Wait what."

"Oh yeah, while the rest of the crew took shore leave in port, I managed to slip out and steal one from the arms depot on the dock. Stashed it in a wheelbarrow and took it out of the base to my van. Ijust loaded it in the back of a van, covered the end in a rug, and put a red cloth on it to signify that it was protruding. Security and police didn't even bat an eye."

"You just walked out of the place?"

"Eh, had one close call with some drunk TSF pilots."

"Sounds like a story."

"Yeah, they were some trainees for those high-horse Millenium and Valkyrie Squadrons. Kept talking shit to the other TSF trainees for other Squadrons, and especially to the Navy boys when they tried to get into the mess hall."

"Uh oh."

"Not yet. They were too drunk to care, just shoved them aside and staggered their way out towards me while I was trying to slip by. When they saw I was carrying a missile, they thought it was one of theirs."

"Oh wow."

"Yep. Don't even know how they got that conclusion, some troll spray painted 'For the Wet Bastards' on the side of the thing, but whatever. They thought it was one of theirs, and accused me of, rightfully, stealing it."

"What did you do?"

"I told the truth. I was a navy boy who had orders to move this thing out of the base."

"...you liar."

"Was I? I was a Navy boy, and I did have orders. I just didn't say my rank or who's orders it was. It didn't matter, they put 3 and 2 to make 6 and assumed one of the officers that had just passed them into the mess hall gave me the order. I just got out of the compound when the brawl began."

"Gods damn."

"Amen. Walked straight past a group of perimeter guards playing poker or sleeping and put it in my car. Kept the fuse, shipped it out by air mail, and 16 days later, 12 days late, the thing arrived here."

"How did it turn out?"

"They're 70s rockets that they duct-taped a smaller warhead to and gave a new coat of paint. They're also more inaccurate than a BB sniper on a windy day. You're better off just issuing 40 or so Spike ATGM from the Dominion to the crew. It'll be cheaper and probably more accurate."

"Understandable. Hey, is the recording still going?"

"Yeah. We still haven't given them the ending spiel."

"Huh, so they've been listening in this entire time?"

"Probably."

"...cool. You can give the ending."

"So, that's the offer your majesties, and probably your national intelligence division, and your international intelligence division, and select members of Parliament, and all of Parliament. We'll take care of them, and you can totally nix your funding for them.

"What little you do."

"In exchange, we'll get…nothing."

"Wait seriously?"

"Yeah."

"They get their fleet maintained, and we get…nothing."

"Yeah."

"...alright."

"Cool."

"Alright, see you later, your majesties!"

"And don't ask how we got your private email. Or we'll share your…fanfiction."

"You know, that isn't really a threat."

"Wait huh?"

"Yeah. You didn't read her private fics?"

"Nope, too busy reading through her emails."

"Well dang, you should," *ruffling noise*. "Here, take a peak."

SILENCE

"...I'll be damned, that's not half bad. Very…forthcoming, in its description, but tasteful as well."

"I know, right?"

"Hmm, what do we 'convince' her with then?"

"I dunno, her email?"

"Why not? And how about her husband's other wives as well?"

"Sure, I'm down."

"Alright, your majesty. Keep this between us, or we'll leak your private emails and those of the other Queens as well. You think that works?"

"Yeah, it should."

*click*
 
…Dominator Marco Guerino has been reported to be suffering from a wide variety of health conditions ranging from heart failure to liver cancer to early-stage dementia. While his medical records have not been able to be obtained and his exact symptoms are hard to pin down, it is clear that his overall health is failing and he is expected to pass away within the next 6-12 months. However, his continued favouritism towards Erde has left many of his colleagues hostile towards him, and there is a non-zero chance that he may be ousted from power before his death.

Thus, the following scenarios are presented for how the 9th War of the Dominion will begin:

  1. Guerino perishes as a result of his failing health. This results in a succession crisis as Erde, Welt, and Shimokuni vie for the throne. We believe that Welt and Shimokuni plan to band together and contest Erde for the throne. Both models and wargames suggest that any offensives against Erde in this and most other scenarios will be bogged down due to the natural defenses of both the Arm and Spine of Erde. The conflict will quickly devolve into a stalemate as Dominion strategic bombers, all under the control of Erde, begin carpet bombing campaigns against their rivals' cities until all are either shot down or starved of fuel and munitions. However, Erde is believed to have stocks of fuel, munitions, and supplies to last for at least 18 months of protracted siege. In addition, we believe that a third party is supporting them with additional supplies and potentially manpower. Current suspicions are that Outer Haven and/or Ruvuma are responsible for this. Any resupply will protract the conflict, resulting in a higher overall death toll.
  2. Guerino is ousted in a vote of no confidence. Erde, outraged by what they'll perceive as a stab in the back, will either attempt to march against Rheon itself to seize the throne or declare independence. A strong nationalist sentiment has grown in recent years, especially within online forums where Erdean users have expressed growing frustration with Rheon and its policies not put forth by Guerino. Multiple underground activist groups have been identified ranging from monarchists who wish for House Guerino to rule the country as an independent state to republicans who are split between democratic and facist factions. If the democratic faction proves more successful, it may be possible to begin equipping them with weapons and supplies, though to cover up our involvement, a laundering routine will need to be carried out to ensure that these shipments are not traced back to us. Either way, an independence movement is seen as a betrayal of the ideals of the Dominion, resulting in more intense conflict to ensure Erde kneels before whoever takes the throne.
  3. Guerino is assassinated. If this is by a political rival, Erde remains enraged, but this will result in sympathy for their cause across the Dominion population, leading to defections from the Army at the very minimum. Such a scenario will lead to a messier civil war as Welter legions clash against one another in addition to whatever actions are taken concerning Erde. If a third party is responsible, this will likely avert the civil war, but at the cost of unifying them against the nation responsible. Whoever proves to be the more capable military leader in the subsequent conflict will likely become the next Dominator, with little reason to contest them.
  4. Guerino is ousted in a coup. Intelligence efforts have identified a number of Welter units, primarily battalion-sized or smaller, who are prepared to intervene in Rheon should a signal be given. While considered a less likely scenario, the chances of this happening are still appreciable. However, unless Welt secures the loyalty of Shimokuni in this course of action, it is likely that this power grab will be seen negatively by Erde and Shimokuni alike. Welter forces in Gwrthyriad will likely be cut off by a Shimokuni blockade assisted by units from Kurushio in such a scenario, though it is unlikely either group has the audacity to launch an attack within a neutral nation.

In all scenarios, however, it is likely that the Dominion Navy will mobilize in full to prevent any 'outside interference'. However, House Kazehana, which has had a history of hostility towards the Federal Republic of Artemia, has their scion in the position of Minister of the Navy. We believe that there is a growing possibility that even routine patrols could be seen in a hostile context, especially if he and the rest of House Kazehana suspect Artemian involvement…

[=]​

The neon lights outside provided an oddly soothing backdrop for Alex Gringovich as he laid back on his couch, glass of whiskey in hand. He eyed its contents, noting the almost clear color to the liquid, with only the faintest hint of amber to it. It was properly aged. Good.

Sipping, he let the liquid sit on his tongue for a few moments before swallowing. A hint of honey. Interesting.

A glance at a photo of his parents, however, soured his mood slightly. A heavy sigh followed as he rose from his seat, taking another sip before setting the glass down. He stepped into his kitchen, popping open the fridge, but finding nothing that caught his appetite tonight. A small groan followed as he closed the door.

He stared out the window again, taking in the details of the advertisements below. Electric City, they called it, and some below said it was the beginning of a cyberpunk setting. He chuckled, sorely wishing that life could be as exciting. Small cells of punks trying to resist those such as himself, changing their bodies into something barely-recognizable either for their own personal comfort or because it allowed them to operate more efficiently.

Perhaps the Tish would push things forward. They certainly loved their mad science. Then again, the Doggers had an old proverb: Mad science means never stopping to ask 'What's the worst thing that can happen?'

Regardless, Cormoropolis had changed, especially within the past decade. A rightward glance gave him a view of the port, lit up and packed with colorful shipping containers on their way to and from places like Havjfell, Vasada, Ruvuma, Florida, Buyan, and at least two dozen other countries. A more focused glance saw a pair of cowl-bodied, wide-nosed electric locomotives, adorned in black, silver, and blue, pulling out with a long string of double-stacked containers behind them.

His hands clasped behind him. House Huntington's icon continued to hum along as it always did.

His own would continue, too, in spite of the unfortunate setback last year.

A glance at his phone would reveal that stock prices continued to slowly climb. Models of cars on the shelves reminded him what his family's specialty was, and the new models were out to good reviews. Not rave, but good.

Hmph. Good was honestly middling in his opinion. They needed to do better.

An alert, however, showed the path forward. The new speedway that was set to open next year was coming along smoothly. He pocketed his phone, grabbed his glass, and moved over to his computer desk. An email was soon drafted and sent out to the design teams. People liked racecars, after all. If all went well, one would be designed and produced just in time for whatever inaugural event was planned at the track.

And maybe something for the luxury market, too.

Sipping again, he browsed the news, noting an op-ed detailing how that oddly-spelled nation down south didn't need an airship fleet. Another hum. Kuronese technology was among the more impressive, mostly because while the Tish were content to tinker and experiment, House Kuronami wanted their wonders under full production ASAP. Chief among them were, of course, the Tactical Surface Fighters, only rivaled by Outer Haven's own Walker Gears. Another story mentioned terrorists getting busted. Fuck them.

Another idea popped into his head, as he grabbed a pen and a piece of printer paper and began sketching. The public liked giant robots. He liked giant robots. Women liked giant robots. Some of his engineers mentioned that a smaller company was working on artificial muscle fibers and that their work was promising. If adapted to a large scale…

He wrote down a note. Find this company and buy them out, provided the Feds didn't get in the way. The Feds always had a way of yanking back progress.

But a small smile formed on his face as he finished sketching out the design. He felt like a kid again, but a text reminded him that he was ultimately an adult.

But then again, who said adults couldn't have fun?

[=]

Neo-Casivalite Group Busted in Raid​

Ft. Knapford (Affiliated Press)— The Artemian Federal Bureau of Criminal Investigations announced yesterday that a sting operation resulted in the arrest of 8 members of a neo-Casivalite group near the Sogdian border. The group had been tracked for approximately 2 years and was suspected of planning to launch a terrorist attack against the National Museum of the Armoured Corps. In a press conference, FCIB spokesman Richard Horrigan stated that "This operation likely saved dozens of lives from the actions of a group who continue to pursue hostilities against the Artemian government and its people."

The neo-Casivalite group, known as the "Temple of the Ancient Light", disguised itself as a folk religion similar to many that can be found throughout the Redoubts. While the Artemian Charter of the State and Peoples' Rights guarantees freedom of religion, it comes with a strict separation of church and state, as well as allowing the government to ban "Any faith that actively infringes upon the rights, freedoms, and lives of those outside of its ranks."

Casivalism was founded in the late 1950s by the titular figure, whose identity remains unknown to this day. The group believes in a conspiracy theory that the Artemian government is suppressing knowledge of an ancient civilization that once guided humanity only to be overthrown. In turn, they believe it is their holy duty to overthrow the Artemian government, bringing about the "Great Return" of said civilization. They are known for both their extreme hostility to the Artemian government and even other religions, and waged an 8-year long insurgency during the 1960s and 1970s until their leadership was killed in a special forces operation.

The Temple of the Ancient Light had appeared on the radar of the FCIB after neighbors noted that a member had been stocking bags of fertilizer while using very little. "He didn't even have that big of a garden." The neighbor, who wished to remain anonymous, said. "I remember reading online that fertilizer can be used in makeshift bombs and I promptly called it in."

"Vigilant citizens can save us a lot of heartache." An interviewed FCIB agent stated. "But there is a difference between vigilance and paranoia. Learn the signs from both firsthand accounts of these kinds of incidents and official resources. You, too, can keep the country safe."

The suspects, whose names had not been released, had been found to have stockpiled at least 100 kilograms of phosphate fertilizers, "dozens" of boxes of nails and plastic pipes, more than Ꞡ150,000 in cash, and several automatic rifles with approximately 2,000 rounds of ammunition. It remains unknown if the group is connected to any others.

It was also noted that members of the group had been involved in other activities, having run a scam operation through fake antivirus software. "The group had scammed approximately 70,000 guilders out of vulnerable populations over the past year alone. While it may have been possible that their operation would have come to the attention of the Cyber Crimes Division, it likely would have been too late by that point." Horrigan added during the conference.

Continued on "Sting", page A5.

[=]​

Sifting through dusty old bins full of slowly-yellowing documents, Eric Bradford let out a low sigh as he wiped the sweat off of his brow. 20 years of this work hadn't been easy on him, as he set the bin in his hands down, dust being kicked off from the impact against the carpeted floor. Dull yellow lights shone above, casting a sickly glow.

The Decade Reviews, of course, demanded hard work. There was a bit of wisdom in keeping such a thing as a tradition, but, well…

The coughing fit he experienced said enough.

"Environmental services are slacking off again…" He muttered to himself, before a few more coughs followed. Thankfully he had a water bottle, and popped the lid and drank. A satisfied groan followed.

The record bin was for the Department of Education. There was much buzz about its shift in policy, and he knew his own kids would be experiencing the changes before long. Aside from the computers, however, it generally didn't seem like much to him.

The records had to be inspected for mold and bugs before they could be scanned in. Every sheet, every vanilla folder, every roll of film. His eyes darted as he grabbed a penlight from his pocket, sweeping it across each page and scanning them carefully. All of them seemed clean.

"Good." He exhaled, before looking around briefly. His careful inspection, however, had found a record from the Goloborodko Administration. The rest were from 1999-2002.

He softly snorted and shook his head as he remembered back to those days, when his wife was pregnant with a baby girl and all seemed quiet in the world. Oh, how he longed to go back, away from the madness that seemed to be slowly gripping society. The threat of war was always a concern, one that grew more real with each passing day.

Popping the folder open, he looked over the documents and found that yes, they were indeed from the 80s and were likely just misplaced. However, the contents caught his interest, as he found himself reading them over.

The idea of 'Academy Cities' has precedent in the Artish Nation of the Biotechnical Engineering Institute (henceforth referred to as the Tish). Shortly after the demise of the previous regime in a devastating, if ultimately localized pandemic, the survivors began to devote themselves heavily into the physical sciences. The only remnant of their previous government was their scientific council, which promptly organized itself into a (perhaps excessively) robust state apparatus. To this end, in their growing interest in scientific research, they established or expanded cities whose core function was to support numerous major and minor schools.

To say that this concept was successful for the Tish is an understatement. Their scientific endeavors may be aimless at times, and the population routinely subjected to various experiments at one point or another throughout their lives, but their educational facilities are often second-to-none when it comes to research and preparing students for a robust career.

With that in mind, it may be possible to designate an Artemian city as a "Special Educational Academy District", focused on a variety of schools covering an equal variety of subjects from the physical sciences to civics to even the arts. Such an endeavor could provide enormous benefits to Artemia if successful, although the infrastructure of the chosen city will likely need significant improvement to support students, their families, and the businesses necessary to support it all.

Ah, the Tish. The old proverb came to mind.

It was perhaps surprising that someone took inspiration from them, as he slid the sheet back into its folder and kept it in hand as he moved the box. No state was immune from proposing odd ideas, after all, but there were far worse.

Hmph. There was some animation from Shimokuni that was set in such a place, from what he half-remembered from his lunch breaks over the past several weeks. It'd be strange if the concept was actually brought to reality in this country.
 
'Goddamn Agni bastards...'

Of all the times for the largest country in the world to light itself on fire, it had to be with the Dominion perilously close to doing the same. Much to Keya Faria's annoyance, the focus on their plans for Erde had meant the Office of Barbarians had been caught completely flatfooted by the results of the Agni election. There had been a lot of scrambling to figure out what the hell was going on in the aftermath, and that had meant the Assembly had gotten wind of it before she'd been ready.

Which meant she was now stuck with the PM and his cabinet in one of the more uncomfortable rooms of the Parliamentary Building, listening to the ministers do a good impressions of chickens with their heads cut off.

Her eyes flicked to the video screen where Fleet Admiral Highly Responsive to Prayers was... making origami. Bitch. Their eyes met, and Responsive very maturely stuck her tongue out.

Faria rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Thank God for Responsive, these Cabinet briefings would be completely intolerable otherwise. She'd been apprehensive of a military officer being so entrenched in the political levers of power - Faria was, despite everything, a strong proponent of civilian oversight over the military - and of Responsive being essentially confined to Naval HQ. Instead, they'd hit it off, the two bonding over their sardonic contempt of the government and their mutual desire to push Ruvuma's place in the international order.

Faria glanced at her watch. Fifteen minutes going around in circles. Well, that was long enough. "Gentlemen," she interjected, her calm, firm voice slicing through the burgeoning shouting match like a Kuronesian sword. "How much does this matter?"

That shut all the old men up, and Faria slid smoothly into the conversational opening.

"Let me answer that question for you: it doesn't. Yes, if Agnigrad isn't embroiled in civil war in three months I'll buy a hat just to eat it, but as I see it, that's not something we should care about," she stated. "Agnigrad is on another continent entirely, we have no special economic ties with it, and while there'll probably be an increase in global food prices we're food-independent. We can ride it out."

"Leaving aside whether we should care, there's the problem that we can't actually do anything about it," Responsive interjected. "We simply cannot project power that far. The Navy doesn't have the staying power or strike ability, the Army is built for operating in Gwrythriad at best, and the Air Force needs bases the Agnis aren't likely to grant us. Further, none of this is something we can change, either quickly or without breaking the treaty restrictions we still currently intend to abide by. Let other people do the peacekeeping, we need to stay out of this."

"Gentlemen, keep your eyes on the prize. The Dominion is going to light itself on fire soon, and we need to be ready to launch LUNA CHILD as soon as they do. Agnigrad is a distraction that we do not want to get involved in."

"But if we back Notmann-" the Foreign Minister tried.

"Oh, please, she's the diplomatic equivalent of a corner hooker," Faria cut in with all the subtlety of a broadsword. "She's whispered sweet nothings into the ears of senior diplomats of at least fifty countries. And we still don't have any critical interests to defend there."

Silence once again fell, the shamed Foreign Minister slumped dejectedly in his chair. Finally, the Prime Minister spoke up.

"We will… take your words under advisement, Director." He coughed awkwardly into his fist. "Ah… meeting adjourned."

'That means yes,' Faria triumphantly noted as the Cabinet packed up to leave.
 
Tatnyadaw announces airbase expansion in Neidom
4 January 2010. Waw Ministwy Buiwding, Towa Pawace, Towa City.
In a move contrary to the general trend in the Mandate of Neidom, the Tatnyadaw has announced a new round of expansion at UMA/UMAS Joint Base 603 Miarinarivo outside Miarinarivo City in south-western Neidom. While at press time no new units were planned to be moved to the new facilities, the planned expansion includes modern barracks for the existing units and previously announced Police Territorial Force training and assistance mission, and expanded runways and a more modern Passenger and Air Cargo terminal being the primary focus, with a new 5km runway being the most important addition. Old barracks and facilities would also be retained after completion to provide additional capacity if needed. According to Tatnyadaw spokesman Fewix Fewix the new facilities are primarily intended to improve logistics at the base, as the existing facilities are already suitable for all tactical aircraft operated by the Tatnyadaw forces for the Mandate, as well as most airlifters in service. This move comes after the recent purchase by the UMAS of a half-dozen used 747-400F freighters for various uses.

Fewix also rejected claims that the move was intended to strengthen Meownyamaw's ability to project power into the region, pointing out that the base is not new, and an additional runway for heavy aircraft does not translate to the addition of new shelters or revetments for tactical aircraft, or an expansion of the assigned forces. The current standard rotation of twelve to twenty four Flankers or UMN Hornets and support aircraft has been ongoing at the base since they replaced the previous mixed Su-17 and MiG-25 unit rotation beginning in 1986, aside from the brief deployment of UMC-11 Awgieba and UMC-13 Pwaecipuwa fighters in 2007 as part of Exercise Pacer Resolve 23.

There have been no announced changes to the UMA contingent, which will remain at one medium brigade assigned to Joint Base 603 Miarinarivo and outlying facilities.
 
FEBRUARY 11TH, 2010
KASTNA MILITARY AIRPORT
07:23 HOURS

"G-greetings, sir!."

Colonel Alexander Gadyuka smiled and mumbled an "at ease" back at the young soldier as he walked onto the airfield of the Kastna Military Airport. It was a cold, spring day (or as cold as it could get in the equatorial regions of Outer Haven), and a light breeze was blowing across the field. The sounds of men and women toiling away at aircraft and walking across the field echoed all around, punctuated by the occasional thud-thud-thud sound from a Walker Gear MANTIS model trotting alongside the runway or a Havaraptor dinosaur hybrid running across the field.

Fuck, it's cold. Gadyuka shivered and pulled his overcoat around him as he strode forward across the tarmac to the airport's control tower. All around him, soldiers and guards on duty stood up in respect, saluting him as they passed by. Gadyuka smiled and nodded back in acknowledgment. How could he not? Those men and women were perhaps the last uncorrupted people in Outer Haven, and he and the military had a duty to take charge of them.

"Colonel! Colonel!" shouted someone behind him. Gadyuka sighed; it was probably one of his subordinates rushing to greet him. "Yes, what is it?" he hollered back as he turned around. "I swear, you don't have to greet me each time I come ou-" Gadyuka suddenly paused, and squinted at the man through the harsh light of the sun.

Could it be? he wondered. "Sir? Is that you?"

General Jadranko Spivak grinned back at Gadyuka, stepping forward and offering a hand. "I hoped you would be around here, old friend." Gadyuka gaped at the general, before snapping himself straight into a salute and shouting "Sir!" at the top of his lungs.

Spivak began to laugh. "Calm down, young man! You're making a fool of yourself!" At that, Gadyuka looked around, promptly realized that everyone was staring at him, and quickly stood down, glaring at at his onlookers in embarrassment. "Did you really have to sneak up on me like that?" he hissed to Spivak.

Spivak simply shrugged in response. "Why not? It was funny." Gadyuka could only grumble, as he shook Spivak's hand and began walking alongside him. "So, what brings you to Kastna? I imagine it was hard to take a detour here from your duties."

Spivak sighed. "Unfortunately, I'm here on business. And I'm the bearer of bad news." Gadyuka raised an eyebrow. "What could be so bad as to warrant a visit from my former mentor?"

The general could only shake his head and motion towards the control tower. "Let's talk in there. More privacy that way." Gadyuka nodded. "Very well then. Lead the way."

The two walked towards the control tower.

****​

"WHAT?!"

Spivak winced at Gadyuka's outburst. "Keep it quiet, will you? People could be listening in!" he said as Gadyuka paced around the basement the two were standing in.

Gadyuka stayed silent for a while, before eventually speaking. "They're really activating the Gothic Serpent contingency?" Spivak simply nodded. "The Federal Directorate recently approved the ASRB's request for more direct involvement in the impending clusterfuck that is the Dominion, and apparently that involvement involves the assassination of foreign heads of state. The operation is expected to happen in early March."

Gadyuka shook his head in shock. "Does anyone in the General Staff know of this?"

"Other than me, the top brass, and you, no one else knows." Spivak said. "My contacts in Army Strategic Intelligence say that General Sablink tried to complain to the Directorate, but had his communications intercepted by… well, you know."

Gadyuka's face darkened. "Vragus, right? That damn bastard." His hands clenched into fists, as he remembered the time he spent with Zmeya and Vragus in the military, before relaxing. "...Have we tried to contact Sablink?"

"Can't." Spivak said. "Vragus's keeping a close eye on Sablink. His lines and communications are tapped. Thankfully the ASRB isn't involved; I doubt that he and Carpathia want to attract their attention." Gadyuka nodded, deep in thought. "So we just wait, then?"

Spivak sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. Other than Sablink, the rest of the General Staff's too apathetic for a potential… regime change. I've reached out to Admiral Volgin, but he's too apolitical. The best thing we can do now is hunker down and wait for the Dominion to implode, or for the operation to fail. My bets are on the operation failing; there's just too much security around the Keresken monarch. It would take someone truly extraordinary to kill him and escape unharmed."

Gadyuka stopped pacing around the room, and turned to Spivak. "Anything else, General?" To Gadyuka's disappointment, Spivak's gaze lowered to the floor. "Yes, unfortunately. I've managed to get a lead on your missing friend."

Gadyuka's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Zmeya? You found her?" The general nodded. "Only the organization she's with, though. You're not going to like it." Gadyuka grimaced. "She with Vragus?"

"Worse. What remains of her trail disappears with the ASRB." Spivak murmured. "My guess? Brenko recruited her into one of his paramilitary 'special operations divisions'. Don't know the exact outfit she's in, though. Could be anything from OHCW to the Special Activities Division. Maybe even EVENT HORIZON."

Gadyuka nodded. "...Update me when you get further leads. In the meantime, I'll keep working on that special project you started." Spivak smiled. "It's the least I can do."

BOOM

The loud noise of an explosion echoed outside the basement, shocking the two out of their reverie. Shouts of dismay began trickling in through the door, and Gadyuka snapped right into action. "Shit! Something's going on outside!" he yelled as he drew his pistol and scrambled outside, Spivak right behind him.

****​

Fuck. That was the only thought that crossed Gadyuka's mind as he gazed at the burning wreck in front of him. The ruins of a Z-2 jet fighter occupied the space directly ahead of him, blocking the middle of the runway. A swarm of soldiers and firefighters had gathered around the wreck, desperately trying to put out the fire with the help of a MANTIS unit spaying water from a hose hurriedly duct-taped to it's side.

Gadyuka turned to the officer beside him. "Did you get the pilot out?" The officer, a young woman, lowered her head. "No, sir. His body is still in the wreckage."

"I knew that we should have replaced those things sooner," Spivak growled next to him. "Those damn fools. What did they think they would accomplish by keeping that 70's relic in service?"

Gadyuka didn't respond. He already knew the answer to that question; the aerospace corporations had lobbied for an extended replacement program instead of phasing out the Z-2 outright. Now the Airforce was stuck with having to manage an outdated airfleet of Z-2s while they waited on more Z-5 deliveries. At least we'll be well and truly rid of them in a couple of years, Gadyuka thought. The last of them are due to be regulated to training duty in 2013.

Grimacing as he turned away from the sight to Spivak, Gadyuka quickly saluted the general. "I'll be off, then. I'm supposed to carry out a raid on some socialist organization around here in twelve hours. Can't miss it." Spivak only nodded in reply, still staring at the burning plane. "...Yes, very well then. You're dismissed."

Gadyuka left in a hurry, wrapping his overcoat around him as thoughts of rebellion and fantasies of power played throughout his head.
 
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February 7 - Harbor, Saakhwia

The dockyard breeze was stiff, but cool. Yamashita gazed out to the dockyards across the bay, where ships were loading and unloading their cargo in the port.

"Princess?" A voice came behind her.

She spun around, and was met with a gust of wind to her face. Pulling down her Yankee's cap and hoodie in, she faced the voice. "Ah, Knight."

The figure raised an eyebrow, pushing away some of her brown hair behind her shades, "You know we're not supposed to use 'Knight' as a rank anymore," the Knight answered

"I much prefer the formal order of things, ma'am," Yamashita answered. The Knight just rolled her eyes behind her shades.

"The developer has another parcel of land he wishes to show you." Leading her away from the edge of the wall, they walked down the boardwalk, passing kids and their families taking a stroll down the route themselves. It was Sunday, and kids were off for the day from school.

As the two of them crossed in front of an ice cream cart, Yamashita stared long enough at the choices offered to see a kid in front of it, peering intently at all of the choices.

"Do you want to buy something, kid?" She asked out of the blue, and the kid was stunned for a moment by the offer. He turned around and stared at her, trying to see what she really wanted by asking him.

Yamashita responded by handing the ice cream vendor a $20, "Give the kid what he wants," she said, and quickly left the scene as she saw what looked like the kid's parents coming over.

She was far enough out of sight by the time the parents came, but close enough to hear the kid greedily ask for a pint of every single flavor and topping mixed into one container.

"Regular people don't usually just hand out money to complete strangers, or their children," the Knight said as Yamashita caught up to her.

"Well I'm not regular, am I Knight?"
"For the last time, just call me-"

"Ah, Your Majesty," The developer called out to Yamashita, as they met up. He gave a small bow, and Yamashita rebuffed him.

"I'm not royalty anymore, and I'm not your monarch."
"Regardless, it is proper courtesy to render title and sufficient homage to it, is it not?"

"I suppose…" Yamashita muttered, then shook it away. "Regardless, is this the parcel?"

The developer nodded, and moved aside so she could take in the sight. It was a block off the Boardwalk, but had an uninterrupted view of the sea. It was no larger than half of the block in area. Large by some standards, but modest for her proposed use for it. Unlike the area surrounding her, it was unfinished. Just grass for the entire property, with the 'FOR LEASE' sign staked into the ground.

"Yes ma'am," the developer nodded, "As you requested. View of the sea, medium in size, close to the Boardwalk, and with no prior estate on it."
"This is a good location," the Knight noted, "Why hasn't anyone bought it yet?"

"Some have," the developer replied, "But most simply decided to keep it until prices rose, as opposed to trying to develop it themselves. I believe one lady wanted to try and build a pet shop here, but had opted to build it in Cove instead."

"I see." the Knight said.

"I like it," Yamashita nodded. "It is suitable for my purpose."

"If I may ma'am, what is that purpose?" The developer asked.

"Start a Satanic Cult covered by a poorly-disguised pyramid-scheme exercise ball company that runs on peddling conspiracy theories while also selling heavily marked-up, highly-toxic merchandise." The Knight said with a straight face.

…

"A hotel," Yamashita said, alleviating the developers confusion and shock, "I wish to build a hotel, and I have heard of Saakhwia's natural beauty."

"That and she didn't want to stay in Gwrthyriad, so I blindfolded her and she tossed a dart at a map of the world," the Knight deadpanned, thumbing the hilt of her saber, "Harbor was the closest major city to where she landed."

"Ah, I see," the developer pushed up his glasses, "In that case, let me be the first to welcome you to Harbor."

"Thank you," Yamashita nodded, "Now, where may we go to sign the lease?"

"If you may, please follow me back to my office," and with that, the three hailed a taxi and made their way back to the developers office.

On the way, the developer and Yamashita struck up a conversation about her motives.

"So, why do you want to build a hotel anyways, if I may ask?" The developer asked.

"Who doesn't want to waste half of the money given to them by the government as a gesture of goodwill and an avenue to a stable civilian life on real estate development in a separate country on a seasonal-driven property?" Yamashita stated, drinking from her water bottle.

"Crass, nonchalant, sarcastic, and friendly all the same. You really are from Gwrthyriad."

"We're 98% certain that the modern Gwrthyriad stereotype was derived from her when she would go on long speeches to the public to drum up support for her projects and ambitions," the Knight said, yawning as she stared out the window.

"Oh really, Knight?" Yamashita asked, "And what is the other 2%?"
"1% in case we're wrong, and another 1% in case something else that isn't a yes or no is the answer," the Knight replied.

"Prudent to a degree," the developer noted, "And how have you come to join Ms. Yamashita?"

"After she was released, I was ordered to guard her," the Knight revealed, checking the ammo count in her revolver, "While she has widespread support, it's not universal, and there are some that have telegraphed…less than joyous intents for her."

"Granted, the majority of those threats are almost certainly rocks thrown into a window by anarchists and religious zealots with little to no balls, but my government doesn't want to take any chances with me," Yamashita helpfully added.

"That's not to say she was excited about the premise," the Knight said. "Far from it, she actually tried to kill me when we first met."

"What." the developer said.

"Yeah, that was a day," Yamashita laughed, like they were talking about a birthday party instead of admitting to the fact she tried to murder her would-be bodyguard. "This was back when I was still fresh out of my prison, and had that weird jumble of honor and pride and rightful rule in my head."

"She still does," the Knight said, "Just toned down and willing to follow proper channels in her quest for mad, mad, unlimited power instead."

><

January 29, 2010

"Your Majesty, you must understand-"

"I should not!" Yamashita huffed, walking briskly through the facility's maze of hallways, huffing at an intersection before cutting left. "I am a Princess, damn it! I fought everywhere from the snowy mountains of Erusea to the wooded hills of Guadalcanal! I do not need some hired sword to shield me from harm!"

"Well firstly she's not a hired sword but that's beside the point," the aide raced to catch up to her as she burst through the doors out into the courtyard, "The government fears for you and your safety. This is simply prudence on our-"

"You!" Yamashita yelled. There, sitting at a picnic table counting ammo in her gun, was the Knight. "Are you the one that is to follow me around like a wide-eyed dog!?"

"I don't think I'm a dog, but yes ma'am," the Knight stood up, and holstered her revolver, "I am-"

"No one worth my time," Yamashita drew her arming sword from its scabbard and leveled it at the Knight, who just raised an eyebrow, "I am in no need of a petty guardsman to follow me my every move."

The action was swift, but no quicker was her sword stopping at position than did it rear backwards abruptly.

Yamashita stared at her sword, curiosity piqued. Quite specifically, her curiosity was piqued by the bullet that lodged itself at the base of the sword, right at the connection point between the blade itself and the hand guard attached to it.

"You know, if not for the fact I stole this sword and scabbard from the local armory, I'd have burned you alive for that transgression," Yamashita snarled, tossing the sword on the pavement, which snapped at the small connection points that remained when the bullet lodged itself in the ricasso of the sword.

Yamashita started to march over to the armory for another set, when she heard a *clang* behind her. Spinning around, she found a rapier on the floor in front of her.

The Knight also tossed over a pistol belt, which had a fully loaded Colt M1878 holstered in it.

"What is this?" Yamashita asked.

"My spare," the Knight replied, "I'll loan it to you for the duel."

"What, you're just going to duel me, in the open sky?" Yamashita asked, incredulous. She thought the future was more refined than that.

"Eh, yeah," the Knight shrugged, "You're probably not going to leave me alone until I prove myself or something like that to you, so I might as well get it over with right here."

"Hasn't the act been outlawed since…" Yamashita checked her dates, "Before the Dominion's Seventh Civil War?"

"Yeah, but we're on a black site," the Knight said, nonchalantly, "No one cares as long as no one dies."

To prove her point, the two of them had already drawn a small crowd around them, with more watching from the doors and the windows looking in. All looked intrigued, none looked like they were going to get in between.

As a cherry on top, one of the off-duty doctors set himself up on one of the larger picnic tables off to the side. Checking that his bag had all of the equipment needed to treat a bullet wound, he gave a thumbs up to the two participants.

Yamashita just stared, confused, before clearing her head and picking up the weapons. What hell, might as well. If she wins, she can blame it on the Knight as the challenger. If she loses, she can blame the Knight for wounding her. Either way, it's a win-win in her book.

"So, are we going to start in the center, or do you want to cross the field?" The Knight asked, setting her hand on her revolver grip.

The answer was neither, as the Knight had only half a second to side-step before the bullet rang out from Yamashita's revolver, and lodged itself in the concrete wall behind her. The Knight just looked at Yamashita, looking unimpressed.

"What, it's a duel." Yamashita said, "You and I both know 98% of all duels weren't fair, and probably more impromptu saloon bar fights with drunken men and women who owned pistols or wine-drunk knights over a maiden or just mercs ambushing their target in the dead of night while he's playing with a dime girl."

"I mean, yeah," the Knight shrugged, "But come on. You're a Princess and I'm a Knight. Why can't we have theatrics?"

"Because they drag on too long and you usually end up being harassed by a third party in it," a third voice came from behind them. One that every Knight recognized and stood at attention towards.

The dueling Knight was no exception, holstering her pistol and sheathing her sword, "Commander Durandal, welcome back ma'am."

"Damn it Knight, I told you to call me Bianka," Bianka 'Durandal' Ataegina, commander of the 3rd Roses, only groaned, "Durandal makes me sound like a hard-ass."

"Are you sure you aren't?" The Knight asked, which resulted in a small *bonk* on the head by Bianka.

"Don't patronize me," Bianka muttered, before turning to Yamashita, "Ah, Princess."

"Commander," Yamashita nodded, and holstered her gun. "I apologize for the incident at hand."

"Oh, no need," Bianka waved it off, "I should tell you about all the times I got into duels with Rome-o someday. Dueling is common enough with us that while it's technically illegal, as long as no one is in the ICU or dead by the end of it, no one will care."

"Duly noted," Yamashita said, "Now, I have some difficulties with your Knight's appointment to me."

"So I've heard, seen, smelt, and am here to be dealt with," Bianka straightened. "She's going with you. Orders of the Senate."

"Oh come on!" Yamashita threw her hands up, "I am in no need of a nanny or babysitter. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Be that as it may, she's still going with you." Bianka said, "I can't change it even if I want to, and given you're poaching one of my best Knights, I really wanted to change it."

"...one of your best?"

"Oh yeah," Bianka snorted. "Rarely misses a shot, faster with her sword than a hurricane, intuitive, attentive, and loyal to a fault."

"Hmmm," Yamashita took this info in, and stared intently at the Knight, who simply stared back, inquisitive. "Well, only the best of the best, after all, is fit to serve me."

Yamashita took the Knight's hand and shook it. "A pleasure, then. I believe we will have much to do in our future."

"As you wish, your majesty," the Knight bowed.

Yamashita nodded, "And pray tell, what is the name of my newest companion?"

"Ah," the Knight realized, "I never did tell you my name." The Knight took off her shades, sweeping away some strands of hair to reveal the dull brown eyes behind them. She stuck her hand out to greet Yamashita properly.

"My name is Maho Nishizumi. It will be an honor to join you."
 
Snippets From The ANoBTEI, 2010: Frost Bites hard

Gera suddenly sat up straight "Got an alert. Some tourists from Alba went out for a night at the Rosewell cabin and they haven't sent any updates for twenty four hours."

The four Arctic Kitsune in the room shared a glance, before immediately grabbing their cold weather gear and medical kits and dashing for the snow ambulance. Seconds later the engine roared into life, the vehicle's treads biting into the deeply packed snow of the rural ANoBTEI as they tore down the road to the Rosewell Cabin at high speed.

As they ran, Hon was looking over the files of the tourists in question "There's five of them. Two parents, three children. No cold weather survival certs so they shouldn't have been allowed outside town without a guide, but apparently they wanted to go skiing in the forest. Snuck out of town without telling anyone."

Kirsty swore "It's negative sixty centigrade out there! Even we'd freeze without protective gear! Hon, what's the readings from the cabin's automated systems?"

Hon checked her tablet "Not good. The logs indicate that the fire suppression system went off around ten in the evening last night, and the heating furnace is non-functional."

A notable chill struck through the vehicle's cabin as everyone processed the implications. Gera noted as he drove "We'll be there in about five minutes. If we're lucky some of them are still alive. Pon, you're on wraith-hunting duty; ninety percent chance of a haunting and we can't afford the distraction."

"Yes." replied Pon as she gathered up the gear for containing dangerous spirits.

That's when the Rosewell Cabin came into view. It was in a terrible state, a whole corner of the building seemed to have caught fire and partially collapsed, compromising the insulation. Gera pulled to a stop, and everyone piled out of the back.

The four felt the biting cold as they charged into what remained of the building, even through their thick clothing, fur, and insulating fat. It didn't take them long to find the group of fennecs huddled in the corner farthest from the collapse, under a massive pile of blankets. Kirsty started checking them over "Dead, dead, dead, dead, GERA WE'VE GOT A LIVE ONE!" as she pulled the heavily frostbitten child out of the corpse pile and began dashing back to the ambulance.

Everyone took their places in the vehicle immediately. Gera driving back to town at top speed while Hon called the hospital to let them know about the issue. Meanwhile Kirsty and Pon worked on stabilizing the child as best they could.

Kirsty noted "Good news, she doesn't seem to have lost any vital organs to frostbite. Bad news, she's going to need her tail, both legs, both ears, her nose, and her right arm amputated. In addition most of her skin will need replacing. And it's going to need to be fast, or else gangrene's going to finish her off as soon as she thaws."
Later at the hospital, a fennec child woke up. Most of her body felt funny, and she got an answer as to why when she looked at her shoulder and saw the stitches where the surgeons attached one of her replacement limbs. Unsurprisingly, she started crying.

A nurse showed up promptly.
 
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Tatnyadaw announces Hypersonic Boost Glide tests, grant program for cube sat flights.
23 January 2010. Waw Ministwy Buiwding, Towa Pawace, Towa City.
As part of Meownyamaw's ongoing development program for railgun technologies, the Supew Heavy Awtiwwewy Centew of Excewwence has announced a new program to develop a next generation round for both the eight and twelve inch Waiwguns in service. The new Extended Wange Pwojectiwe project will involve the development of a pair of new hypersonic gliders which could also be adapted to other existing systems. The new gliders would have significantly longer range than existing systems, and per the Supew Heavy Awtiwwewy Centew of Excewwence, provide the best option for extending the capabilities of existing waiwguns. The tests should begin in three months at the pacific test range.

Additionally, the Supew Heavy Awtiwwewy Centew of Excewwence also announced that beginning in august, that they would begin offering no-cost cubesat launches in conjunction with the Mewnyan Space Pwogwam for qualifying applicants. Qualifying projects are limited to Low Earth Orbit only, and may not exceed 2x2x4U. No-cost launches are intended to provide training for orbital-capable waiwgun crews, while replacing what were previously boilerplates with payloads that would otherwise be unable to launch, but still have scientific or cultural merit.

Howch Motows to launch new compact utility vehicle line.
8 February 2010. Mewnyan Auto Show.
Howch Motows announced a new compact utility vehicle to sit in between the existing city sized HW family and the conventional HM trucks and vans. The new HI family will have a smaller payload than the existing HW family, and a shorter bed, as it gives up a cab-over design for a conventional appearance, and is available as either a three or five door wagon or van, three door torpedo and as a conventional two door pickup or cab chassis. As the HI family are utility vehicles, selectable four wheel drive and a power take off will be standard, and the cabin interior is deliberately austere and functional, but fully waterproof. Sales are expected to begin in August.
 
J-17 Chiroptera


​
Origins: OR.313

As the world careened towards the Great War, Ruvuma found itself in need of a new generation of combat vehicles. For all their speed the quick conquests of the Ratan Republics and Kairon had nonetheless revealed deficiencies in both kit and doctrine to be corrected.

Among the deficiencies was the fact that the long-held truism that the bomber would always get through no longer applied. Some of the Ratanian republics had managed to throw bomber attacks at Ruvuma's rear lines early in the conquest, and while only comprising a wing or two at a time, they nonetheless might have caused significant damage to the Army's logistics had Ruvuman radar stations not given sufficient warning to get interceptors into the air.

It did not escape the Air Marshals that their future opponents would have similar radar networks in the future. Mock combat had shown that bombers in tight defensive formation traded evenly with fighters, an intolerable state of affairs given the greater expense and crew requirements of a bomber compared to a fighter. In order to prevent such costly trades, the Ruvuman Air Force needed a long-range fighter that could act as a bomber escort.

As such, in 1938, the Air Ministry published Operations Requirement 313 requesting such a plane. The performance requirements were outright onerous: a range of 2000 miles, a top speed over 400 miles per hour, extreme altitude capability to the point a pressurized cockpit was amongst the specified features, and maneuverability at least within shouting distance of standard single-engine fighters. Most manufacturers, believing such a spec was impossible, failed to respond, and most of those who did dragged their feet to focus on other, more promising projects.

One company, however, had nothing to lose.

Construcciones Aeronautica was a subsidiary of Ruvuma's second-largest construction company, hitherto used primarily as a subcontractor for building other companies' planes in the interest of expanding manufacturing capacity. Attempts to break into the design sphere had been met with failure, as much by lackluster results as the extremely competitive market. But not only did they now have a golden opportunity, they had a mind equal to the task: Jose Getafe.

Getafe is known among Ruvuman aviation enthusiasts more for his later work on the J-21 fighter, being the last military aircraft designer still alive and not senile at the time. But without his work on the Chiroptera, he would never have been considered at all. It was Getafe who came up with the idea to blend the fuselage and wings into on giant lifting body, giving the aircraft a flat, but also smoothly curved, contour that was pleasing to the eye and an excellent combination of lift and low drag. CA promised a top speed of 472 miles per hour and a range of 2300 miles to the Air Ministry, far beyond spec, and this with existing V-12 engines. Skeptical Air Marshals nonetheless signed off on a contract for a single prototype, figuring that even a plane that failed to meet the promised specs was nonetheless likely to meet the actual intended ones.

Much to the astonishment of the Air Ministry, the single prototype, during its initial test flight, very nearly matched the promises from Construcciones Aeronautica, cracking 460 miles per hour and demonstrating impressive maneuverability. However, it was on one of those maneuvers that the plane stalled out and went into a deadstick spin. The test pilot managed to recover the plane, but the landing was still a crash one and wrecked the prototype.

Despite this setback, the Air Ministry ordered an additional 13 preproduction J-17s, mostly on the basis of its astonishing performance. Unfortunately, the odd fuselage shape led to production difficulties, and the first batch was not delivered until April 1941. Although looking much like the initial prototype, they differed significantly in detail, most notably with a host of minor aerodynamic tweaks to fix issues that had cropped up in testing.

Working out the Bugs: J-17S

66 production machines followed the pre-production model, designated J-17S for "serial"; this was also when it earned the name "Chiroptera". While the planes were armed and were initially intended to be the true production spec, it was not to be. The J-17S is noteworthy mainly because it was the model where Construcciones Aeronautica worked out the bugs on the airplane.

And bugs there were aplenty. Aerodynamic issues continued to plague the design, to the point Construcciones Aeronautica was forced to book time in the national wind tunnel facility. Worse than those, however, were the engines, which had an alarming tendency to catch fire at max RPMs. This was not the fault of the engine; the liquid-cooled V-12 had a sterling reputation and powered multiple aircraft already in service. The problem was eventually traced to the compact engine nacelles, which greatly reduced the ability of the engines to radiate heat out of their cooling system. Eventually the coolant would become heat-saturated and start to vaporize, at which point the engine would catch fire.

With the war rapidly approaching, there was no time for a perfect fix, which would require a new engine model with a completely redesigned cooling system. Despite pleas otherwise from Getafe, Construcciones Aeronautica was forced to make the nacelles bigger and derate the engine. This greatly slowed the aircraft, but the Air Ministry still had an aircraft exceeding their wildest expectations, and were willing to wait for a definitive version.

Chiroptera at War: J-17SD/J-17SDT/J-17SKT/J-17SLN/J-17R

The first J-17 variant to go to war was the J-17SD, featuring in addition to the new nacelles:
  • Improved instruments, electrical, and hydraulic systems​
  • A definitive armament of four 25mm cannon​
  • New propellers​
  • And, most importantly, a radio​
The first J-17SD was rolled out in May 1942, and it was this model that went to war during the Gwrthyriad Campaign. The Chiroptera primarily performed its bomber escort job during that campaign, accompanying tactical bombers on deep strikes against Gwrthyriad operational logistics. Inevitably, the plane also saw its role expand: the plane was also pressed into service over the battlefield, Ruvuma's battlefield support planes having proved more vulnerable to enemy fighters than expected.

The Chiroptera also went to war in the war against the islands. Though carrier air power carried the way, the island bases needed air garrisons afterward, and the Chiroptera was ideal to escort Navy land-based bombers on long strikes. Although initially stock J-17SDs, the Navy would end buying their own specialized variants.

March 1943 saw the appearance the J-17SDT; while introducing various detail improvements, the most notable addition were two racks inboard of the engines for external fuel tanks, expanding the plane's already-expansive range. The SDT would form the basis of multiple more specialized variants, including the J-17R photo-recon aircraft; the Navy's J-17SKT variant; and an entirely new model, the J-17SLN.

The SLN was a dedicated radar-equipped night fighter, with two seats in order to accommodate a radar operator and the guns moved to the wing roots to clear space for the radar. Developed in response to nighttime intruder raids by Gwrthyriad, the SLN was rushed into service and showed it. Serviceability, particular of the radar, was horrid, and the Ruvuman Navy and Air Force alike struggled to develop an effective night fighter doctrine. Nonetheless, the SLN greatly improved Ruvuma's nonexistent night defenses, and the model's struggles would pay off later in the war.

In combat, the Chiroptera was found to be a formidable opponent. Surprisingly maneuverable at high speeds, pilots quickly learned to use their speed and power to outmaneuver slower fighters; in particular, Gwrthyrian pilots quickly learned to fear the Chiroptera's zoom climb in close combat, and to not approach from the front. The four 25mm cannon tended to rapidly disintegrate any fighters in its path.

And while formidable on the mainland, the Chiroptera was even more useful in the island fighting out to sea. Its tremendous range allowed it to operate without fear over wide expanses of ocean, and the Chiroptera was frequently used as both a long-range interceptor and as an outright air-superiority hunter-killer.

And still this was not the plane's full potential.

Chiroptera in Maturity: J-17F/J-17M/J-17MLN/J-17MK/J-17MB/J-17MR

April 1944, shortly before the simultaneous Kuroshian and Dominion Campaigns, finally saw Getafe's masterpiece rolled out as intended. The entire nacelle, engine, and cooling system had been redesigned, with smooth fairings along the nacelle improving radiative capacity. However, the model, the J-17F, was rapidly superseded by a parallel design effort: the J-17M.

The M took full advantage of combat experience and field maintenance to produce a true next-gen Chiroptera. In addition to the new nacelles and engines, the J-17M's great contribution was powered ailerons that greatly enhanced overall maneuverability. Finally, the Chiroptera could reach its intended top speed of 472 MPH, and in mock combat was turning even with single-engine aircraft. Had the aircraft been cheaper, the Ruvuman Air Force likely would have attempted to standardize on it, but alas, it required double of almost everything of strategic importance.

This was to the benefit of the Chiroptera's enemies, for whom the plane was an absolute nightmare. The Kuroshians initially got the brunt of the Chiroptera's new abilities, the Kuroshian Isles being an ideal playground for the long-range fighter. Chiropteras, piloted by veterans of prior campaigns, simply swept Kuroshian aircraft from the skies. One of the enduring images of the Island Theater is of Chiropteras orbiting Kuroshian airfields, daring someone to attempt to try and fight them.

Dominion fighters fared little better. More and more, Chiroptera doctrine gave the fighters the tactical freedom to hunt down and kill whatever they wished. As Ruvuman bombers plastered rail lines and supply depots, as Ruvuman battlefield support aircraft ravaged battalions at a time, Chiropteras were there, pouncing on Dominion fighters before they could even get to the battlefield.

No further developments of the M were produced during the war. As far as anyone was concerned, it was the perfect aircraft. That did not mean new variants weren't produced. After the success of the SD in new roles, modified Ms were pressed into the same jobs as night fighters and photo-recon aircraft.

There was one variant that was not simply an update of a prior one: the J-17MB fighter-bomber. The Ruvuman Air Force had initially given little thought to the Chiroptera's potential as a bomber: bomber production, particularly in Ratanian factories, was strong, and if they needed more bomb-dropping they had no shortage of single-engine aircraft for the task. However, as the war progressed, Ruvuma found their tactical bombers increasingly not survivable on the modern battlefield. A bomber with better performance was required to survive evolving air defenses.

The first J-17MB was delivered in August 1945, and once again exceeded all expectations. Despite the weight of additional armor plating and weaponry, the aircraft could still crack 400 MPH, though not in low-altitude operations. Even better, the fighter's load-carrying capacity was nothing short of awesome: with one fuselage, two inner-wing, and two-outer wing pylons the MB could carry 7000 lbs of bombs, though a load of 5 500-lb bombs and two drop tanks was more typical.

Chiroptera in Twilight

The same month the J-17MB entered service, Ruvuma reached its high-water mark. Unable to pierce the fearsome defenses of the Dominion capital, the Ruvuman Army was forced to retreat in the face of a mass counterattack by fresh Dominion divisions raised in their rear. The arrival of the Saakhwians only worsened the situation, adding fresh divisions to the Dominion's land forces and finally providing the naval power to start pushing Ruvuma out of the Kuronesian Archipelago.

Hundreds of Chiropteras met their end on the islands, starved of fuel or overwhelmed by massed Saakhwian carrier air power. Even still, they did not die gentle: Saakhwian air casualties were heavy, and wherever possible island bases were simply blockaded and starved out.

The situation was no better on land. While the Chiropteras and the Air Force continued to contest the skies with considerable effectiveness, the Ruvuman Army was coming apart at the seams. More Chiropteras were lost on the ground in the second phase of the war than in the air, and even in the air they were not safe. Erdean factories, safe nestled in the mountains of the Spine, were pumping out the first jet fighters, fighters that took the Chiropteras strengths of speed and power and magnified them further.

By the time the war reached Ruvuman soil, the Chiroptera was outnumbered, outmatched, and in the end ground into dust. But to the end it remained a deeply respected opponent. Declassified flight manuals from the era, right to the end of the war, recommend pilots of piston aircraft to not engage Chiropteras without a significant numerical advantage. And the versatility of the plane was very much to its credit.

Postwar, surviving Ruvuman Chiropteras were largely destroyed in retaliation. Hundreds of examples lived on in Ratan and Kairon, into the 1970s in Kairon, and those examples form a majority of the 28 surviving aircraft in museums and private collections. One airworthy example remains. Nicknamed "Moonbat", the plane is a J-17M dug out of a glacier in the Spine where it crash-landed. Restored, it is a frequent visitor to Ruvuman airshows.

A mere 28 Chiropteras still exist in the hands of museums and private collectors, mostly by way of the Kairan Air Force, who operated the type into the 1970s. Only one remains airworthy. As of the 2010s, efforts are underway in Ruvuma to build replicas as part of work to reclaim their Great War history.
 
Somewhere Over the Tal-der-Konigstor, Western Austraztor
Near Apfelbaum Dam
January 1st
1984

The sound of her breathing beneath the oxygen mask, each forced exhale and inhalation against the pressures of g-forces, almost seemed to drown out everything else around her; Even the roar of the engines and the protestations of the airframe around her, as she constantly juggled the stick, throttle, and rudder pedals, and hyper-focused on the course before her. Canyon walls race by on either side at break-neck speeds, as the enemy fighter constantly just beyond the borders of her gunsight, continues to try and loose her in the slalom of twists and turns.

"Put the gun on him, Slider!" comes the call from her sister-in-arms in the Nw 263's backseat. "Put the gun on him and shoot him!"

Behind her mask, she grits her teeth, both from frustration and the mounting strain of throwing the massive variable wing fighter through so many repeated turns. So close, and yet so far. She can practically see the uniform of the other pilot every time she banks into a turn.

If she were a betting woman, she'd place good money that it isn't an Austraztor and Hoffen general issue desert-tan.

"I can't get him Blade! I can't get enough height or lead on him in here! We'll have to get him when it opens up onto the lake!"

As if to dissuade that idea however, the radio crackles to life. "AWACS Himmel Auge to Lenz 2-3, alert! You are approaching the Applebaum Line. Turn back now!"

"Gods dammit!" spits Messer from the back seat.

At that moment however, what she has been hoping for appears. Not a glimpse of the enemy fighter disappearing around yet more walls of twisting stone crags after hauling the Nw 263 through yet another turn, but instead the widening blue of the river at the bottom of the canyon, spreading out to encompass the width of the horizon. And roaring eastward into the skies above the oil-rig dotted lake, with nowhere left to duck and hide, is their quarry.

Unbound from the twisting confines of the ravine-like river valley, she is at last free to open the throttle to full afterburner, something to which the fighter eagerly responds. The roar of the engines only grows louder, and a rumbling hum heralds the swing-wings beginning to shift to an even greater sweep.

"Let's get this fucker!"

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Westrazwalhiskia
The Capital of Gultinlista
January 1st
2010

"BZZT! BZZT! BZZT! BZZT! BZZ-"

She awakes with a start, heart briefly racing with the thrill and tension of combat, wondering what the unexpected alarm has gone off in her cockpit, before realizing it is her bedside clock. Dutifully beeping to awaken her, as the automatic lights softly bloom to life and illuminate the bedroom.

It is a far cry and upgrade from the dingy shared barracks that momentarily surfaces from her memories, before she shakes off the last foggy cobwebs of sleep. "Polite wealth" and "luxurious practicality" are the most apt descriptors as she, silences the alarm, rises from the silk covers of her bed, slips on a pair of designer slippers and their matching dressing gown, then glides across the Persian rug and polished hardwood floors to the bathroom.

A clammy feeling of sweat clings to her skin, as if she really was back there and back when. Chasing foes with daredevil maneuvers and hotheaded determination as pilot in her prime, rather than a woman reliving the past in her dreams. A twist of ivory handles sets water running into a porcelain sink, which she then uses to cleanse her face of the last traces of tension and sleep. Grabbing a nearby towel and patting her face dry, she then allows herself a moment to actually examine her visage in the mirror.

Idly she runs a finger through the first hints of grey appearing at the roots of her hairline. She is lucky to have aged gracefully, but at the same time, she has never tried to hide the appearance of time's gradual touches either. Let the foriegn media gossip and cluck like school girls and housewives. She is proud of every subtle crease and line that deigns to hint at her being beyond the follies and inexperience of young-adulthood.

Each one is a mark of pride and proof of her 57 years upon the world. A gleeful spit in the face of the war that should have killed her in her 20s like so many of her comrades, and a badge to display to all that she survived, through skill, wit, and luck, to grow old when so many others didn't.

Some might call her an old woman. Maybe she increasingly is, as what can justifiably be called middle age slips away, no matter how unravaged and stately her appearance remains. But even if she is no longer an active pilot, she is still an old veteran in a line of work where it was, and to a degree still is, all too common to die young or have a career crash and burn around you.

The crisp, polite rap of knocking at a door, sounds from back in the bedroom.

"Enter!" She calls casually, taking a moment to check her gown is secured about herself, before gliding back into the bedroom.

A quick glance at the clock on her bedside earns a brief nod of approval, as the door opens at what she observes to be the correct time. A young woman, dressed in black and white enters, flanked by a pair of guards in military uniforms. A much more formal and crisply ironed air force dress uniform is held in the hands of the Head Maid.

"Your uniform for the day ma'am," demures the woman softly. "Would you prefer breakfast in the dining room or the east office this morning?"

Accepting the pile from the maid, she allows herself a moment to run a thumb across the small slab of ribbon bars she will have to affix after donning the whole affair. Even after so many years, it is bemusing to have to wear so much 'chest candy'. Still, there is one piece of uniform paraphernalia that never ceases to get old, and still awes the small part of her that once remembers the halcyon youth of a 19-year old with dreams of being a naval-aviator.

The shoulder boards, with their intricate golden knots, crossed batons, and gleaming button inscribed with an anchor flanked by the sun, moon, and stars, which all together identify a Grand Admiral of the Westrazwalhiskian People's Navy.

"The east office please, Mercia. The day will be long, and there was no reason not to get a head start on it early. "

"As you wish ma'am," says the head maid with a polite bow before turning away and retreating from the room.

Her gaze then switching to the two guards, a brief nod is given. "You may return to your posts." A pair of crisp salutes are given in answer, before the two leave as well, returning to the hallway and flanking either side of the bedroom door which is closed behind them.

A sigh is given, both a bracing and anticipation of whatever the day may have in store for her.

Yes indeed, the day waits for no one. Not even one such as Grand Admiral Sirene von Fruhling.

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"-and in international news, reports today of gunfire in the eastern Westrazwalhiskian city of Aldburgstadt, after a standoff with Westrazwalhiskian Interior Security Bureau forces ended violently at a warehouse complex in an industrial park.

While no official statements have yet been given from the Westrazwalhiskian government, sources have stated that this is likely related to reports of ISB foiling a separatist plot some weeks previously. Information released then, suggested that a Nodroni separatist group planned a series of terrorist attacks in the capital, Gultinlista. Their purported targets included a number of government premises and officials, including the residences of President Georgina Pobedadotter and prominent military figure, General Field Marshall Artorius von Keyserlingk.

There is no word as of yet, in regards to casualties, but eye-witness reports suggest that while only a few ISB agents were injured, a number of separatists have been seriously wound or killed in the fighting over the past few hours.

In other news-"

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"-for a limited time only, Oceanic Airways is flying Ratan to Manosaiwiz with four night packages from $679 per person.

And everything is included.

So your Moon Sea holiday, on the stunning Pacific coast, begins as soon as you step on the plane. For bookings, call 555-"

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"-with our first caller on line one. What do you think of this morning's news out of Westrazwalhiskia sir?"

"Well Tom, I think it's a load of crap if you ask me! There's holes in this story you could fly a jet through."

"That's a rather bold statement, friend. Care to explain the train of thought here?"

"Sure! Attacking the President? Pfft, everyone knows the real power in Westrazwalhiskia is the Junta. And even though Keyserlink and Nagel-See might be the main faces of the top brass, but everyone knows that pulling all their strings is Fruhling. I wouldn't put it past them to put Pobedadotter's ass on the line if it suited them. And Keyserlink has been thick as thieves with Fruhling ever since their days as grunts on the propaganda circuit, so you can bet your ass he wasn't actually in any danger!"

"I, uh, see- ahem-, next caller! Caller two, what's your opinion on-"

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"-M Media Filmwatch, with the latest twist in the controversy surrounding the recent box office release of action-romance film, "Konigstor Skies". While a massive hit with global audiences and earning 59 million dollars over the course of it's opening weekend, the movie has been slammed by critics and audiences in both of the central Pampian nations pivotal to the film and the historical conflict that serves as a backdrop to it's story.

Central to this controversy and outrage, is critique of its historical accuracy, and depictions of events and figures that played key roles in the Austraz-Westraz Conflict of the 1980s. A war that is already viewed in different lights by either nation, and has in the past sparked disagreement, contention and accusations from either side over its nature, course of events, and revisionism.

In a sign of just how contentious and heated the reactions to the movie have been in Westrazwalhiskia, Commander-in-Chief of the Airforce, General Air Marshall Keileigh Nagel-See, recently released a statement. Nagel-See, who is said to have known a number of figures whos' likenesses and deeds inspired roles and composite characters in the film, had this to say;

"It is already an unfortunate but inevitable fact of life, that such a difficult and complex period of troubled period of history between two nations should inevitably be treated as a source for entertainment and media. Some of which, on occasion, will white-wash or embellish the actions or deeds of either side for the sake of appealing to target audiences, or to delight and fascinate those who do not know or care for the intricacies of the era and the struggles which affected real people.

But perhaps even more unfortunate than fiction that may, willingly or not, compromise on the facts it is inspired by for the sake of limitations on it's manner of storytelling or depiction, is fiction which purports itself to be correct or placed before a backdrop of factuality and truth, when it is not. To use the likenesses and deeds of those who were there and claim to retell the events and trials they went through, while simultaneously showing such a complete lack of concern for accuracy that events are not even depicted in historical order and others are made up wholesale, is one of the greatest slights of all to those who were there, and the memory of those did not come back."

Strong words from a strong woman, whose path to prominence first started as a fighter ace in the same conflict the film depicts. If this discussion did grab your interest, join us later for an M Media exclusive, as the Factoid crew go into all the behind the scenes details about the making of the film, and some of the real people who inspired the events of the movie.

For now though, we move on to other Filmwatch news as, as the latest development in the scandal involving actress-"

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"-Over the deserts of central Pampia, outnumbered and outgunned pilots fight to defend the skies of Austraztor and Hoffen against the might of the Westrazwahliskian Airforce.

For six long years, they will face a fiery crucible of unrelenting combat.

Above the battlefields of the Tal-der-Konigstor plateau, a new generation of aces, flying modern and cutting edge jet aircraft, will make their mark on history.

Now, using state of the art computer animation, you're in the cockpit, as mercenary and foreign volunteer pilots flying Artemian and Rheonic aircraft, go head to head against the legendary knights of the Westrazwalhiskian skies.

Experience the battle. Dissect the tactics. Relive the dogfights of the Aces of Austraztor!"

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"-Now I don't wanna live in the kind of nation where-! Where these pagan spirit worshiping Westraz horse fuckers, can just come into OUR country! And put- god knows what chemicals and hormone crap they've been cooking up since the last war! -And put it in all our beef and corn! When it already gets into the water AND TURNS THE DAMN FISH GAY!"

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"-all things considered, it is not surprising that Westrazwalhiskia still favors it's New Generation Experimental Platform Program, despite the fact that the Nw 555 Nachtkrapp has long since been surpassed in terms of stealth by true 5th Gen aircraft. While she may be Grand Admiral of the Westrazwalhiskian People's Navy, von Fruhling cut her teeth as a naval aviator, and stands in the same category of ace as Nagel-See."

"I disagree. Considering how often it appears at airshows these days, and how much less secretive the Westrazwalhiskians have become about it in recent years, you could make the argument that the Nachtkrapp is at this point merely a technology demonstrator or testbed."

"Testbed for what though? The Westrazwalhiskians have always been far too militant and fond of their airforce for their own good."

"And yet they have barely built more than fifty Nachtkrapps of various discernable marks in the last ten years, during which time they have continued to remain largely inwardly focused."

"A superficial observation. They have never let go of their hegemonistic aspirations to build a Greater Westrazwalhiskia. It's practically a part of their cultural identity."

"Now that's taking it a bit far don't you-

"The imperialism is still there, it's just been forgotten because everyone spends too much time focused on their sisyphean campaigns to stomp out separatism in their eastern provinces. But mark my words, one day, whether it is this current government or a successor, the Westrazwalhiskians will look beyond their borders once more. And until then, there's probably some bunch of scientists and engineers at North Westraz Munitions still tinkering away at ideas that we might never see, or will never develop beyond the drawing board unless needed."

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"Get ready for the event of the season!

"From the people who brought you the best airshow of 2009!"

"On May 12th, experience the People's Power and Technology Airshow!"

"With more than 220 aircraft from multiple nations and manufacturers now participating!"

"Only at Schwarzestrand Air Force Base, on Sandinsel in sunny Manosaiwiz."

"For easy travel, book specialty flights and travel packages with Luftflotte Westra and Oceanic Airlines, or catch the ferry from Ferrohafen or Farjanawodr."

"To avoid queues, book your tickets early. Only at Ticketblitz dot co dot w z"

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​
"-the history between the three is what's so fascinating. And how rather than try to vie for dominant power and control like most of the major figures in the immediate post-war Junta leadership did after the Austraz-Westraz Conflict and through the early Civil War, they collectively seem to have established something of a triumvirate.

All three of them enjoy a fair degree of political clout from being seen as war heroes, this is true, and certainly not complete propaganda or fiction as some claim. Fruhling and Nagal-See were some of the highest scoring aces of the war, and Keyserlink was decorated for gallantry and being wounded in action multiple times. As anyone morbidly curious enough and capable of using google image search can tell you, the man wears a tagelmust for more than just cultural reasons. Nagal-See also holds the honor of being the highest scoring Westrazwalhiskian ace to survive the war.

Fruhling was the first to really delve into politics however, and eventually seems to have encouraged Keyserlink to follow suit, with Nagal-See following her own path for a while before later 'allying' with the other two for want of a better term. All three of them eventually rose to prominent positions of command, until inevitably they became proteges and understudies of their predecessors.

As the old post-war guard retired or died, Fruhling managed to get herself promoted to Grand Admiral, likely due to other factions in the navy hoping she could help to increase its prominence and prestige once again. From there, she then helped Keyserlink get his foot in the door, at which point they then worked together to basically push General Air Marshall Stuttgart into retirement while Nagal-See undercut his political support and clique membership from below, at which point Nagal-See became the defacto choice to replace him. Granted, this was seen as a positive thing by many observers and commentators, as it was felt that Stuttgart was a dangerous last relic and figurehead of a more belligerent and revanchist faction within the military that still held onto some positions of power and influence.

It's also interesting to look at how Pobedadotter fits into the whole scheme. On the surface, the office of president is supposed to hold some sway over the military, but functionally it is a puppet position. Pobedadotter's ascendance to the presidency seems to have mostly been a conciliatory piece to certain ethnic and political factions, although it's also somewhat difficult to unravel the personal vendettas, intrigues, and alliances at play that color the backdrop of her relationship with the nominal heads of Westrazwalhiskia's junta.

The historical House of Fruhling, to which Sirene von Fruhling belongs, is said to have shared particular animosity with the Pobedadotter family line. This is known to have been cause for animosity and friction with Jorge-Viktor von Pobedotter, father of the current president and who was a superior officer to Fruhling during the Austraz-Westraz Conflict. A number of years after the fall of the Pobedadotter family from grace in the wake of the Conflict and 1986 coup, the current Pobedadotter first made her foray into politics, and has gradually managed to work her way up to the office of the presidency. A political post somewhat infamous for its revolving door nature in recent decades, and the manners in which its occupants have sometimes left office should the junta on occasion require a patsy or target to divert ire on to.

Whether Fruhling deigned to allow this rise in status and fortune in repayment for some kind of loyalty or as a result of backroom dealings, or if it's a particularly drawn out and cruel revenge upon the family, remains to be seen.

Also of note is-"

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'The gushing waters of the Albiawajo pour and disappear into the plenty of the East. The West is a realm of the sword, the horse, the eagle, and the king, who divide the mountain, the desert, the river, and the steppe. This realm divided, shall crave unity. But the closer this realm reaches to unity, the more violently it shall divide. Thus has it even been, among the peoples of the West.'
- Ancient Westra Folk History
 
FEBRUARY 14TH
THREE DAYS AFTER GADYUKA AND SPIVAK'S MEETING IN KASTNA
SOMEWHERE IN THE LYSNEKO DESERT
21:23 HOURS

The group was in a dark room, the only light being provided by a flickering oil lamp. It was cold and damp inside, and the smell of oil and fungi filtered in through the door. Two people stood around their leader, who was seated on a sofa with her legs crossed, the oil lamp flickering overhead.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?" the good General asked.

The group looked nervously around until a man stepped forward. "...Let's hear the bad news first, boss," murmured Lubbock.

General Paz Najenda nodded, her hand reaching into her coat to bring out a collection of documents and photographs. "Our network in Kastna was infiltrated. Several of our men were convinced to switch sides; apparently, they were offered money and housing in the capital city. The result was a series of raids on our safehouses there." The group collectively winced.

"...how severe was the damage?" asked a woman gripping a pistol. Paz simply sighed. "Very severe, Akame. Our entire network was decapitated and destroyed by soldiers from the Outer Haven Strategic Forces. What remaining assets we had we were forced to withdraw. Two years of hard work… all gone."

A chill blew through the room, as the group drew back in shock, Akame and Lubbock in particular wincing and tensing their bodies. Paz reached down and drew a selection of photos from the pile in her lap. "These are still frames from security camera footage that we were able to retrieve from the raid." She passed them out to each member of the group. Each photo showed men dressed in all-black combat gear, with bright yellow patches attached to their forearms the only thing identifying them clearly. Each patch bore a stencil drawing of a vulture.

"Next-Generation Strategic Special Forces, led by Colonel Alexander Gadyuka. They're experts in counter-terrorism operations. Many have gone through live-combat experience, and have had their training supplemented with experimental VR training." Collective whispers were shared amongst the group, an attitude of fear descending upon the room.

"And he's coming for us next, right?" asked Lubbock. Paz shrugged. "Although we destroyed almost all of our documents and records before we abandoned Kastna, it's likely that Gadyuka will try to extract information from captured prisoners. We'll have to be careful from now on."

"We'll take him down," Akame spoke up. "We'll do it for our comrades. For everything that the Directorate and Outer Haven have taken away from us… we'll pay him back." Lubbock grinned and nodded with every word Akame said. "By hook or by crook, we'll win the good fight."

Paz could only smile. "You're damn right about that. And I've finally got some good news for you. You two in particular, in fact." Akame and Lubbock perked up. "What is it?" Lubbock asked eagerly.

Paz stood up from her chair, and turned behind her. "You can come in now!" she yelled. The wooden door in front of Paz opened, and two people walked into the room. "You two are our premier hitmen," she said to Akame and Lubbock, "and you've carried out many missions successfully ever since you joined the Army. But we need new blood. With Outer Haven tightening their security and the military hot on our tail, we need to increase our efforts."

Paz motioned to the two behind her, as they slowly waved back at her. "We're assembling a new team specifically for these assassination missions. Guerilla warfare suits us best, after all. These three will join you in your missions; why don't you introduce yourselves?"

A man stepped forward with a big grin on his face. "Yo, nice to meet you! The name's Bulat." Extending a well-muscled arm to Lubbock, Bulat smiled. "Let's get along, shall we?" The woman beside him sighed and shook her head good-naturedly. "The name's Leone," she said. "Nice to meet you all. Like Bulat said, let's get along."

Lubbock reached out and shook Bulat's hand. "You seem pretty fine. A pleasure to meet you, Bulat." "Likewise," said Akame. "It's always nice to meet new colleagues."

"If you're finished exchanging pleasantries, then perhaps we can get on with this? You do have a new mission, after all." At that, Leone perked up, "Oh? What're we doing this time?"

"Well, we do want to get you settled in before you actually begin picking off the big fish…" Paz said. "You're being relocated to a safehouse outside the industrial city of Grubek. It's not a great place- the air pollution's heavy there, for one- but it's swarming with business representatives and military officials at any given moment. A target-free environment, if you will. What do you say?"

"Are you kidding?" Leone stood up straight in excitement. "We're hitting not only a major corporate meeting spot but one of Outer Haven's main industrial cities? Count me in!"

Lubbock laughed. "I like this girl already! I accept!" Akame and Bulat nodded their heads simultaneously as well. "We're fighting for a better cause, aren't we? The Revolutionary Army can't win without us getting our hands dirty," said Lubbock. Akame, for the first time during the meeting, had a small smile on her face. "Agreed," she said, "we can't let all this effort go to waste."

Paz smiled. "It's decided, then! Men, women, comrades- welcome to Task Force Night Raid! Welcome to the Socialist Revolutionary Army!"

****

"...attacks on military personnel have been on the rise since February in the city of Grubek, officials report. The police have encouraged civilians to report any suspicious activity to their nearest police station or hotline…" - Outer Haven News Network, March 1st, 2010

Xylem Steelworks bombed by left-wing radical organization, declares themselves the "Socialist Revolutionary Army - OH-CEKV-TV, March 5th, 2010

"Remember to stay strong, despite these recent events. The deaths of innocent civilians and service men during these attacks must not be forgotten. I ask all employees to continue their hard work, and to oppose foreign subversive leftist propaganda. Workers Unions and Communists cannot provide you with what they promise. They can't. But we can." - CEO Jacob Goldstein of Kuznekler in a memo to his employees, March 6th, 2010

"...productivity in the Grubek industrial region has suffered a severe shock, despite efforts by the Strategic Forces to combat the "Revolutionary Army". Stock traders and CEOs are advised to begin preparing Class I economic contingency plans in the case of a short-term economic shock…" - The Lumenca Daily, one of the few uncensored newspapers available to the Haven upper class, March 7th, 2010

BREAKING: Leftist radicals captured in Strategic Forces special operations raid, 3 dead, 10 injured - OH-GSCV-TV, March 8th, 2010

Federal Directorate to increase security in the Lysneko Desert - Outer Haven News Network, March 10th, 2010​
 
The Lunmenca Daily
March 10th, 2010

INTERNAL REPORT: Parapluie Institute receives extended contract for production of B.O.Ws​

(TLD) - The Parapluie Institute scored another government contract today, this time to mass produce the new Havaraptor dinosaur hybrid for the Ground Army.

The Outer Haven General Staff announced today that the $10 million contract agreed upon with the Parapluie Institute would see the mass cloning and rearing of over 2,500 Havaraptor specimens over a three-year period. These dinosaurs would function as "assistants and deadly companions in live combat," the General Staff said.

The contract is an extension on previous deals made between the two organizations. In 2004, the Parapluie Institute agreed to provide the Ground Army with cloned Velociraptor specimens, and in 2007 supplied the Ground Army with 250 Tyrannosaurus Rex specimens.

However, Havaraptor is unique due to its genetic makeup. It is an artificial hybrid between DNA samples taken from Achillobator, Dakotaraptor, and Utahraptor. Strength, speed, agility, and intelligence have all been strengthened by this treatment, making it a prime candidate for live combat operations.

Ultimately, this contract will serve to boost the Parapluie Institute's finances, and allow it to obtain more private and government funding to continue its research into the biological sciences.

****​

  • Resource prices spike as Agni Civil War intensifies - Outer Haven News Network
  • EXPOSE: Life in the Kuroshian Immortal Family - OH-CEKV-TV
  • National Parliamentary Council debates implementing "Social Credit" system - OH-GSCV-TV
  • Acts of Kindness - Kuznekler CEO Jacob Goldstein gives his employees a bonus - Kastna News
  • EXTERNAL REPORT: Non-Aligned Economic Summit to begin Thursday in capital city of Lunmenca - The Lunmenca Daily

****​

Excerpt from "TheTravelDash" website, accessed 2010:

The Travel Dash
Things to do in Outer Haven: Visit the city of Lunmenca, see the fields of Kastna, visit the Lysneko Desert, explore the jungles of the Vyalian Valleys, and so much more​

One of the most economically influential countries in the world, Outer Haven is a place filled with opportunities. Nearly all of it is located near the equator, and its tropical environment is filled with great deserts and diverse wildlife.

For tourists, Outer Haven is a place where the natural meets the modern, a tropical paradise that flirts with the high-tech cities that abound near the coast. It is a country known for its gambling casinos and lavishness, where tourists can choose to live like kings for a day.

To discover the best places to visit and things to do, please use the list below.

5 - The Redentor Beaches, Chernabog

The most recognized feature of Outer Haven, the golden sands of the Redentor Beach stretch out for twelve miles along the coast. Its location is perfect for sunbathing, and is always available for party-goers and the more… unrestrained parts of society to use. Be sure not to miss the nightly firework show!

4 - Cristo Opera House, Lunmenca

One of the last remaining pre-colonial buildings in Outer Haven, the Cristo Opera House hosts live performances each day for all to view. Modern pieces such as "Under the Red Sky" and "X and Y" and classical orchestral performances containing the works of Katzukya Brenko-Sten are performed here, and attract thousands of viewers from all across the world. If you're observant enough, maybe you'll spot a famous figure or two!

3 - Verkhniy Gorod, Kastna

Verkhniy Gorod, meaning the "upper city" in Havanese, has been named a cultural heritage site by the Union of Nation's for its extensive catalog of fine art and architecture. Its extensive pre-colonial buildings are one of the last remaining untouched Vyali cultural artifacts, preserved from the Einherjarian Devastation only by luck. Verkhniy Gorod contains many tourist sites today, including the Haven Museum, the Avenue of Leaves, and the Vyali Memorial, which remembers the millions killed by the Einherjar punitive campaign in the late 19th century.

2 - Druchen Art Museum, Grubek

Art isn't the first thing one thinks of as you enter the industrial city of factories and buildings that is Grubek. But the Druchen Art Museum is famed throughout Pampia for its assortment of classical and modern art. From sculptures to paintings, the Druchen Art Museum is home to hundreds of millions of dollars of wealth and prestige. Be sure to check this place out!

1 - The Haven Strip, Lunmenca

Named after the country it resides in, the Haven Strip is host to thousands upon thousands of gambling casinos, hotels, carnival attractions, and live performances which have established the Strip as one of the most popular and iconic tourist destinations in the world. Glittering with business headquarters, fabulous wealth, and unique once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, the Haven Strip is a must-see for any aspiring tourist.

****​

OUTER HAVEN FEDERAL DIRECTORATE
PARAPLUIE BIOLOGICAL RESEARCH INSTITUTE

INFORMATION:

TO: FEDERAL DIRECTORATE MEMBERS

FROM: DR. HARRY LEE

DATE: JANUARY 8TH, 2010

To the esteemed members of the Federal Directorate,

I am pleased to inform you that PROJECT G has made good progress with the recent change in management and shifting of researchers from the Indominus project. Facilities K and B in the Lysneko Desert have successfully managed to grow pieces of flesh and bone and even some undeveloped organs with the new genetic sequences that we have developed. It is our hope that by the end of this year we can begin moving to full-on prototyping of the creature.

Unfortunately, the GENOME SOLDIER project has encountered major delays. The "soldier genes" that we have identified and implanted in test subjects have proven too unstable and have led to genetic degeneration in all of our experiments. Although there has been some success with introducing individual genes, there is only so much the unmodified human body can accept before the genes degenerate and cause death. We ask that the Federal Directorate provide us with records and potentially live samples from the results of Project Strašna Djeca, the 80s genetic supersoldier project.

We have also made good progress with PROJECT SHIVA, our bioweapons program. Although we have a massive lack of source material or progress to follow up on, experiments with refining toxins such as Bacillus anthracis and Clostridium botulinum have proven successful enough to warrant continuation. Additional funding is formally being requested to begin experimenting with synthetic viral creation of deadly pathogens, although this process is expected to take years to complete.

We of the Parapluie Institute hope that our special relationship with the military and the Federal Directorate remains intact and well.

Sincerely,
Doctor Harry Lee

****​

"I still don't get why you wanted me down here," Admiral Adam Volgin muttered as he walked down the concrete hallway.

Chief Admiral Rolan Gilday sighed. "Again, you'll see the entire picture when you get there, but the main reason is your experience and level-headedness. I've read about your exploits during that patrol in the Pacific."

Volgin grimaced. "It was a life and death situation, Gilday," he said. "It's not one I remember fondly."

"Stop being too hard on yourself. You rescued nearly the entire crew from that submarine. I mean, raising that old trash pile from the bottom of the sea by blowing the last of your ballast tanks? It was a risky maneuver, but one that worked out in the end." Gilday paused as they walked up to the door in front of them. "You're exactly who we need for this, Volgin."

"But why? I'm an admiral, not a submarine captain. I shouldn't be here a thousand feet underground on a mountain, I should be in my office rearranging paperwork!" Volgin shifted and began pacing back and forth as Gilday took out a card from his pocket and swiped it through the key reader. "God damnit, let's just get this over with. What do you have in store?"

Gilday grinned as the door opened. "Come and take a look."

Volgin stepped out of the door into a massive cavern, filled with cranes and personnel scurrying about. The cavern itself was lit up by light pouring in through a massive entryway to the ocean, and the bottom of the cave was filled with water.

Volgin boggled. Gilday laughed. "What exactly is this, Gilday? What have you been hiding?" Volgin turned to Gilday, his eyes blazing in a combination of fury and excitement. "What… what is this?"

Gilday smiled and gestured to their surroundings. "It's a shipyard, Volgin. A massive shipyard built in a naturally occurring cavern just off the coast of Outer Haven, one that just so happens to be located under a mountain known as Mount Faldan. Officially, Mount Faldan is too dangerous for climbers and tourists due to the many, many rockfalls and avalanches that have befallen the site. Unofficially, it is host to the largest submarine pen in the world."

"And this, Volgin?" Gilday pointed squarely to one of two massive, armored hulls spanning the length of two-thirds of the cavern. Its hull was peppered with VLS launch tubes and bay doors, and hundreds of men were lowering missiles and weaponry in. "This is our queenpiece in the geopolitical game of chess. It's eight years in the making, with untold billions of dollars spent. A massive submersible arsenal ship, six hundred and forty meters long and powered by two nuclear reactors." Volgin could only gape at Gilday's words.

"This is the ship I want you to command, Volgin. This is your next assignment. You want freedom from pencil pushing? Then I will give you this. Arsenal Gear Model 002."

"You… want me… to command that monstrosity?" Volgin gasped.

Gilday shrugged and smiled. "Why not, Admiral? 002 is one of the largest ships ever constructed in the history of mankind. Its weapons complement is massive, and can strike at long-range targets from under the water. It's the perfect weapon of mass destruction."

"So… Admiral. Do you accept your new command?"

Volgin turned to Gilday, a dark visage creeping over his face.

"Why ask me? You already know the answer."

****​

"Hello? Hello?"

"Yes. All the pieces have begun to move. Carpathia and Vragus suspect nothing. Brenko is suspicious, but I've evaded his investigations."

"...No, I haven't got any more leads on Zmeya. I did however manage to obtain some passing references to a "Project Strašna Djeca", but that's all I could find. No details yet."

"I understand the Walker Gear MANTA project has been placed under your leadership? Good. We'll need all the resources we can get when we can begin our coup."

"Oh? What's going on?"

"Arsenal Gear? They're preparing it for launch ahead of schedule?"

"The Conservatives in the Federal Directorate must be moving their plans ahead. I swear, they're even crazier than Carpathia and his Libertarians sometimes…"

"Yes, you're correct. It takes a well-balanced individual to rule over a country, rather than a group of flawed men and women. I'm glad you can see that. You truly are worthy of ruling over Outer Haven, Gadyuka."

"I'll see you then. Goodbye for now."

****​

TELEFAX MILCOM NETWORK
MARCH 12TH 2010
FEDERAL DIRECTORATE TO ASRB
OFFICIAL ORDERS

USAGE OF GOTHIC SERPENT CONTINGENCY IS APPROVED. PROCEED WITH IMPLEMENTATION IN KERESKE ASAP. GODSPEED.

- FEDERAL DIRECTORATE ORDER #2354
 
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Second Agni Civil War, Spring​

"… After General Nicolis Breven's deadline was passed with no answer from the Socialist provisional government, military units began pushing east from the western half of the country. The Junta units were majority conscript soldiers who remained loyal to General Breven and the Joint Chiefs-of-Staff, supplemented by numerous volunteer brigades of armed militia and citizenry. On the contrary, the Socialist side was the opposite with a majority of their forces being loyal reserves called up to fight for the socialist coalition and civilian militia with rebel army units held in reserve. Overall command of the 'Red' army (With Junta forces being referred to as the 'Green' army due to their connections to the Emerald Party) was held among a Joint military council, divided among political lines of Anarchist and Socialist brigades and Colonel Conrad Crawl, who had managed to gain overall command over the rebel army divisions. At this stage in the conflict, the air force of both sides was kept in reserve for fear of losing any chance of air superiority. Despite this, the initial engagements favored the military Junta due to the higher quality of their troops, both in training and in equipment. That is why it came to such a surprise to many as the initial assault of the Green army was handily blunted by the Red army.

Agnigrads large landmass, combined with the hostile terrain of the jungle and wetlands and the limited, often outdated infrastructure greatly limited the speed of the White advance. Combined with the month of preparation given to the socialists, Colonel Crawl was able to rapidly shift numerous units to likely avenues of advance and place his strongest assets strategically. The first true battles of the Second Agni Civil War were not easy victories for the Green army but hard fought and pitched battles against well prepared defenses. Despite multiple pitched battles attempting to dislodge the Red's, Green army units made very little progress.

Following this, the General staff decided a change in strategy was needed and began pulling units back. The overall idea was to pull back, dig in, and break the much less disciplined socialist militia before counterattacking the disorganized remnants rather than losing more valuable equipment and men to futile assaults. However, Colonel Crawl was a step ahead of them. While the Junta was attempting to force through the Red choke points along the roads and railroads, Crawl had levied his reserve of civilian volunteers to his advantage by breaking many locals up into guides and leading brigades of militia through the country circumventing the Green armies units and defenses. As the last of the Green units retreated to their original positions they suddenly found themselves under attack. Both frontline units tired from days of fighting and rear echelon companies were immediately exchanging fire with these guerilla brigades of rebel militia, resulting in the Green lines losing cohesion as the entire enemy army appeared seemingly out of thin air among them. However, these guerilla brigades could only carry what they could on their backs or on mules meaning they began to rapidly run out of ammunition and had to scavenge from the enemy in order to maintain their aggression. Given time, it's likely the Green army could have rallied and attacked the militia which would have surely resulted in the splintering of a sizable chunk of the Red army had the second phase of Colonel Crawl's operation not kicked off. The Army and reserve units used to blunt the Green army's advance were let loose upon the Greens with righteous fury, their motorized assets screaming down the same paths and roads the Greens had pulled back from. The proverbial hammer to the guerilla's anvil, the sudden counter attack destroyed the cohesion of the Junta's forces and a general retreat was called by the Green army. What was to be the successful first month of the war turned instead into a complete and total disaster for the 'reactionary' forces of the military Junta."

- Unbiased Account of the Second Agni Civil War, 'Crawl's Springtime Gambit'


After the disaster of Operation Battleaxe, the initial plan was to pull back to the Berie River and reorganize and dig in, seeing as the militia heavy rebels would need time to reorganize and rest after the maneuvers they pulled off. The key term was 'initial'.

That bastard, Crawl, had instead dogged at their heels every step of the way back. Isolated companies surrounded and wiped out, desperate defenses thrown up to buy time for the supplies and wounded to be evacuated only to be repeated. The Grand Army of Agnigrad was being completely and soundly defeated by masses of peasant levies! The army was showing well for itself with excellent maneuvers done by their units, organized retreats and elastic defenses intended to buy time for the army. Artillery barrages to cover retreats, destruction of key infrastructure to hinder their supply lines, even limited airstrikes targeting rebels caught in the open. By all rights, the 'Green' army should have been pulling off a text book and successful tactical retreat. The issue is that if the Grand Army was doing their job well, then the Socialists were executing their offensive masterfully.

General Ivanoff sat before his command center, smoking his cigarette as he observed a map of western Agnigrad. He watched belatedly as his aides rapidly adjusted the markings on the map, signifying the rapid movements of his army indicated in green and the seemingly teleportation of the rebels marked in red. Breven had assigned him the duty of breaking the rebel line, and now he was desperately trying to prevent the same for his own. Ivanoff spent his whole life learning the art of war, preparing for this exact situation… only to completely and utterly fail rocked the man to his core. He wanted to vomit. But now his army was behind the shores of the Berie. If he held them here, then he could at least make up for his failure in Battleaxe. But now, it was down to the boots on the ground to carry the day. The Rebels were exhausted, they had to be constantly fighting his group. Disorganized in general, their supply lines stretched, they either took the river, or they had to wait for their rear lines to catch up to their advance. They just had to hold the line here and now…

The Battle of the Berie began, with exhausted Green army companies and battalions defending the western banks and bridges of the Berie from exhausted Red army units who had raced to overtake the Greens. Artillery dueled across the river as the Socialist hordes charged the hastily erected defense of the Junta. Within an hour, the Reds had managed to secure two footholds on the western bank, and Ivanoff deployed his reserves to contain them. When it became revealed that the Socialists had forded the river twenty miles south of the furthest bridge and were swinging north, prepared to completely encircle the Greens, Ivanoff was forced to immediately abandon the Berie line and pull back as much as could. Forced to abandon much of their heavy equipment, and once more thrown into disarray. Once more, excellently positioned Red units began to ambush and dog their retreat every step of the way. General Ivanoff reportedly perished due to an 'accidental discharge during weapon maintenance'.


"... by the time the Green army had time to reorganize after the Battle of the Berie, they had found themselves trading the dense jungles of central Agnigrad for the dense urban sprawl of western Agnigrad. This meant that Crawl could no longer institute his traditional strategy of highly aggressive maneuvers utilizing local guides and off-map paths. With this fact in mind, the newly gazetted Comrade Field Marshal instead decided to allow his thoroughly exhausted troops time to rest. The supply lines were still at least a week away from catching up to his positions, and his troops were exhausted and severely disorganized from the rapid maneuvers. His plan was to rest, reorganize, and plan for the subsequent invasion of Agnigrads industrial heartland and eventually Greater Agnigrad itself.

A moment to talk about the Field Marshall or, as the newspapers have come to affectionately and accusingly regard him as, 'The Generalissimo'. A loud mouth braggart who walks with utter confidence and almost immediately captured the hearts of the public with his blunt and arrogant swagger. The camera's loved him and he loved them back, and he became known for his gung-ho attitude. At this point in the war, various political groups were already hoping to seduce his endorsement for their own purposes. Most importantly of all though was his ability to win dramatic sweeping victories. If he could keep that up, he could see himself becoming the hero of the revolution.

Returning to the conflict, Field Marshal Crawl's decision to halt his advance realized the desperate beliefs of the Green high command. Reckoning Crawl was either forced to stop or was unable to continue; they immediately threw their forces into a counter attack, attempting to break the enemy before they could fully establish themselves. Had they been an organized force this attempt may have borne fruit, but with the Green Army as it was, exhausted and barely functioning, it had no hope of succeeding. Understrength and tired division attacked piecemeal and withdrew after meeting even token resistance, the legendary fanaticism of the Agni nonexistent in the face of legitimate human limitations. As the spring rolled into a boiling summer, the Green Army found itself scraping its morale from the bottom of a barrel. The season of fighting was most likely going to entail heavy house to house fighting alongside the industrial sites of western Agnigrad, long and hard. For now, the war was firmly in the Socialists favor."

- Unbiased Account of the Second Agni Civil War


In Lesser Agnigrad, after months of tense standoff, a victor finally emerged. Admiral Svmirnov has agreed to turn the Agni Marine Corps over to General Nicolis' command, but has managed to force the Junta to accept the Navy's neutrality towards the civil war. While the navy has maintained their non-combative stance, they have also ceded any control on the outcome of the war. But now, the Junta can rely on a division's worth of crack infantry to shore up their defenses and remove any threat to their rear.


Air raid sirens were what awoke the pilots of the air base. Immediately jumping from their bunks and donning their flight suits, the pilots rushed from the barracks and made a beeline for the hangars. Unfortunately, they and the air raid siren were too little, too late. Air force fights of the Red army had appeared in force during a shift change, resulting in valuable seconds lost before the alert went out. Jets had begun to spin up and taxi towards the runway when the first of the Socialist bombs hit, smashing into the runways and tearing up entire chunks of concrete. Smaller bomblets were also dropped, either detonating or clattering onto the ground and becoming hazards for any work crews that wished to begin repairing the runway in the coming months. Alongside the runway, the fuel silo's were struck and detonated in spectacular fireballs, and two bridges leading to the isolated and well-guarded air field were also hit.

SAMs ringing the site were not silent during this time. Missiles streaked upwards seeking locks and occasionally grabbing them. However, the limited number of SAMs and their poor placement meant that the pilots could rely both on their skill and their trophy systems to confuse and evade the missiles. With their targets identified and terminated, the flight of fighter jets immediately began climbing and reaching top speeds as they raced out of the SAMs range. Fuel storage, infrastructure, and runway all destroyed without actually harming any of the jets. With the bridges out, any ability to begin repairing the runway or even withdrawing the fighter jets would be impossible, as would be running flight missions without fuel or a runway to launch off of.

In a handful of minutes the Socialist air force had effectively shut down their enemies ability to project power into the air.


OOC: Socialists are winning with ⅔ victories. Roughly 80 percent of the country is in their hands. The Navy submits partially to Junta control ceding the Marines into their command (+5 to rolls next turn). The Socialists achieve air superiority for the next 2 turns (+10).

With that the Springtime campaigning is complete. However, despite things looking bad for the Junta, defeat is not yet certain. If you are interested in ensuring one side wins or loses, or simply want to test out your newest toys and tactics, feel free to approach me with offers of who you want to support and how. Bonuses range from +5 to +15 and can stack when multiple different support actions are taken.
 
The soft yellow gloom of electronic tiki torches and garden lamps illuminate the rooftop garden, casting a mix of shadows and dusky half-glow through the corner of the roof to which they have drifted away from the main party. It is not so much a place for secretive conversations in the dark however, as much as it is a respite for three comrades of equal rank and acclaim, from subordinates and politicians and brown-nosers.

Sirene allows herself a sip of her wine, back turned to the other two as she stares out across the skyline of the capital. Even if she didn't trust the other two not to try anything, her guards are never far away. For similar reasons, she has no fear of the open cityscape. A few miles distant, beyond the manmade jungle of apartment towers and office blocks, she can see the silhouettes of some of the 1st Fleet at anchor in the harbor. The normally towering forms of the battlecruiser and aviation cruiser back-lit and dwarfed by the illuminated bulk of the XYB-VIII Arsenal Bomber further out into the bay.

Beside her, Keyserlink approaches the handrail, a quietly contemplative look in his gaze and what little is visible of his marked and riven face beneath the ever present indigo headscarf.

"They say the old man of the East is ill," murmurs the Field Marshal in a contemplative tone, baritone softened by the tagelmust he wears. "They say his death could truly be on the horizon this time."

Sirene gives a quiet hum of acknowledgement.

"It's a hell of a time for that old fossil to weaken," continues Keyserlink with observational grimness. "It could mean war."

"It could," concurs the Grand Admiral neutrally, swirling her glass before taking another sip of her wine.

Even with her back turned, she can practically see the neutral pokerface that Nagal-See is likely to sport. One that after so many years of association with her fellow ex-pilot turned General Air Marshall, holds no secrets and disguises no emotions from her. Nagal-See always was the soft-hearted humanitarian of the three of them. Or at least as much as a military autarch can afford to be.

Sirene at last offers a brief, cynical chuckle. "No doubt there will be war. For all that they so often claim to be wiser and greater than us and our struggles to shape our nation, they're just as much the same. They'll turn on one another in the name of honor, land, and kin all the same. The question is, who else's war will it be?"

Undoubtedly the same thought is on the other two's minds, as it has been on her's recently. For all the overtures and displays Westrazwalhiskia puts on, it has been a long time since the inheritors of the old Westraz kingdoms last truly looked outward beyond their immediate neighbours.

Long has the western world been dominated by the presence of three major powerblocks. Much as their forefathers attempted to prove otherwise, and their own generation has struggled to maintain the faltering image of a withdrawn fourth, the fact of the matter is that the balance of power in Pampia, Kalaharia, and much of Laurentia, has been dominated by the influences and alliances of Artemia, Ruvuma, and the Dominion. Many have nipped at their heels and aspired to similar power and greatness, particularly in the Pacific west, Westrazwalhiskia included. But by and large, the lesser powers and states of the Pampian interior, the Kalaharian north, and the Laurentian south, often fall into the orbits of the big three.

Exceptions to this rule exist, sure. Kereseke. Walthurzreich. The Havenites. Westrazwalhiskia itself.

But by and large, a Dominion forced to turn inward could lead to a power vacuum of sorts. A potentially unwelcome one at that.

"Some might say it should be our war," muses Keyserlink darkly, tone clear that he is not among the 'some' spoken of. "What better time than when the gazes of the west, and those who foiled us last, turn on one another instead?"

The Grand Admiral fails to hide her scoff. It has taken thirty years of blood and sacrifice to build their nation back up again. It is a task they have inherited from predecessors who took charge of a harrowed and war weary nation. It is a task that in the privacy of her mind, Sirene would honestly sometimes prefer to hand off to a successor when the time came as well. Westrazwalhiskia is not yet ready to look outward once more.

"The world hardly needs more war," murmurs Nagel-See, offering her own personnel misgivings before offering a more professional concern as well. "And who's to say a more trigger-happy political climate would even be to our benefit. Agnigrad is already in conflict, the Dominion is not the only nation on the precipice of turmoil and with far too many foolish grudges to settle."

Sirene senses more than sees Keyserlink give a nod of agreement. "Little conflicts turning into wars. Many wars, turning into wars of alliances. Alliances that then encompass the world. Such is how the Great War began."

"We are already far from trusted or popular on the international stage," adds Sirene. "If we are to benefit from the coming years, it will not be through direct conflict. Not unless our hand is forced, or some yet to be envisioned opportunity arises."

"We must be cautious," agrees Nagel-See with a hint of relief in her voice.

The General Field Marshal on the other hand, muses on the Grand Admiral's word's speculatively. "You really think someone would be mad enough to turn their hand to the West, even if the Dominion and the others were to be drawn into conflict in the East or spent in the aftermath?"

Sirene stares out across the city, gaze drawn to the silhouettes on the water. To the Navy she has spent more than thirty years serving, and the last ten personally in charge of reinvigorating and revitalizing from what scraps of former glory were left. "It never hurts to be prepared. Austraztor and Hoffen never truly believed we would actually be willing to stake everything on the line and attack them. Right up until the moment our forefathers did."

"It was a different time." points out Keyserlink. "A different world. Different people. Our forefathers were overambitious and power hungry fools."

"And now we find ourselves in a modern world populated with others who grow ever overambitious and power hungry," counters Sirene. "Some of whom now foolishly believe we no longer lay claim to our stolen territories. That somehow, thirty years of conflict in the name of unity means we have accepted these borders forced upon us, and that caused such disunity in the first place. And meanwhile, the balance of power in the West, and the stability of one of the fulcrum points for the status quo, hinges upon whatever may or may not happen in the aftermath of an old man's death."

Westrazwalhiskia has rarely ever cared to look beyond it's immediate neighbours, and their lost rightful soil. Should the need arise however, Westrazwalhiskia will ever be ready to whet it's sabre, in the name of unity and their divided motherland.

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"-in the stock market today, where the Westrazmark rose three cents today. This is believed to be buoyed by a number of different factors, continuing the growth of the Westrazwahiskian economic sector from last year.

The Westrazmark is rising against the Dominion Dollar today as the Westrazwalhiskian unemployment rate fell to the lowest level since 1991.

The Westrazwalhiskian unemployment rate dropped to 5.7% in December, although markets had forecast it to remain unchanged at 5.8%.

Moreover, the SDFRW's latest employment change surprised markets and revealed 83,000 people were hired during December. This is considerably above November's 10,000 and expectations of 5,000.

Together, the data paints a strong picture of the Westrazwalhiskian labour market. In turn, this is likely to support the SDFRW's continued economic recovery, particularly the country's cost-of-living crisis in the more economically deprived eastern reaches of the country.

Undoubtedly fueling part of this recovery however, is military investment in-"

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"-at Kryssen's historic Bloss and Vhom shipyard in Hadanolandh, where Grand Admiral Sirene von Fruhling took part in the keel laying ceremony for the second of the two planned Vitka Class Helicopter Destroyers. Lead ship Vitka was previously laid down in 2008, with a experts projecting a likely launch date for the vessel for either late this year or in early 2010. It is expected that bother of these vessels shall eventually replace the two Spakerling class of helicopter destroyers, which date from the mid seventies, and will likely be approaching the end of their operational lifespans thanks to decades of heavy usage and the decline of the Westrazwalhiskian People's Navy in the nineties.

Grand Admiral Fruhling also used the event to announce the intent of the WPN to build four conventionally powered missile cruisers over the next ten years. According to statements made by the Grand Admiral during a speech after the event, the intent is for these four vessels to eventually supplement and eventually replace Westrazwalhiskia's two existing Reichsritter Class missile cruisers.

While some have questioned the necessity of producing four cruisers to replace two, or expressed concern that this could be a further evidence of Westrazwalhiskia seeking to rebuild its navy to a strength comparable to that of it's height in the seventies, other analysts have suggested an alternative reasoning for the two additional replacements; That these two additional cruisers could be intended to also replace Westrazwalhiskia's aging Kreiger Class nuclear battlecruisers, which are known to be increasingly expensive and difficult to maintain, and will likely be approaching the end of their operational lifespans by the 2020s."

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"A clash of cultures and controversy today, borne of outrage voiced online against an exhibition on international traditional art currently on display in the Grand Gallery Museum of Quentovic. Across numerous online outlets and social media sites, debate and contention has erupted in response to the classification and placement of a particular exhibit within the exhibition, that being of works of medieval and pre-modern Nordroni art.

Organizers of the exhibition placed the exhibit in an area dedicated to works derived of Westra-descended culture groups and labeled some older works as Westraz-influenced or produced by medieval Westraz artists. This has led to a number of complaints from various figures and groups, many of whom feel that the labeling of certain works and artists as such, is incorrect and an artifact of later Westrazwalhiskian-centric views and forced cultural assimilation. Others counter these claims with statements that these works date from a time when the regions of the modern Nordroni Republic of Vertauenberge were part of the ancient Westraz kingdoms, with ample historical evidence that the people of these eras did indeed consider themselves of the Westraz.

At this time, Grand Gallery Museum of Quentovic has yet to issue a statement."

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The debate of Nodroni culture and heritage in relation to other northern Pampian peoples and nations is a long and complicated one.

Ethnically, modern research has proven that many of the ancient Nordroni were more closely related to the peoples of western Kereseke and eastern Walthurzreich. Similarly, their dialect has shared elements of the two, however the case could be made that as an off-shoot of Walthurzian Westra, it is a Westran dialect with later Westraz influence.

This is largely thanks to the fact that from the late-16th century to the end of the Great War in the mid-20th century, successive alliances and periods of conquest, occupation, and vassalisation, led to large influxes of peoples from central and eastern Pampia. They in turn, brought with them central and western Westraz languages and cultures, which were often heavily promoted by the aristocracy and bureaucrats.

Particularly through the late-18th and 19th centuries, this led to a stigmatization of less traditionally "Westrazwalhiskian" culture and language, as it was felt that the region was being held back by it's cultural dissimilarity to the Hrussalandasic kingdoms of the central Pampian plains, with Nordroni who did not assimilate coming to be seen as "backwards mountain folk.

This cultural suppression, along with many other factors, would lead to numerous protests, revolts, and uprisings against what was increasingly seen as Westrazwalhiskian overlordship, especially as many who were not traditional ethnic Nordoni, began to count themselves as such after generations spent on the land.

This would eventually culminate in the foundation of the Nordroni Republic of Vertauenberge in the wake of the Great War of the 1940s.

The founding of a new nation separate from Westrazwalhiskia however, was not the end of Nordroni cultural suppression by Westrazwalhiskian groups. Just as many Westrazwalhiskians found themselves placed on the wrong side of the border, after the federalisation of the Westrazwalhiskian states into the banates of the then Republic of Westrazwalhiskia led to a controversial and careless division of lands influenced by the victorious powers, many who ethnically or culturally identified as Nordroni now found themselves on lands considered part of the new Westrazwalhiskia.

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Westrazwalhiskia, and it's Knights of the Sky

It is seemingly not uncommon, and almost universal for many nations and cultures to idolize the early evolutions of military aviation and air combat. Idealizations of almost gentlemanly warfare and knightly conduct between the first generations of warriors in the sky, are after all, a nearly logical inevitability when one considers origin of these first generation pilots. That many of those with requisite pre-war experience as aviators, or the prestige and skills to be taken in as some of the first trainees in newly formed flying corps, would all to often be those from positions of wealth or previous military experience; Gentry and officers, often born of the old aristocracies and upper social classes of the nations they served.

No where was this more true than the historic kingdoms of old Westrazwalhiskia, during the dawning decade of air combat in the 20th century. During the First Westraz War of the 1910s, what little military aviation existed at the start of the conflict, was often a result of the personal interest and experiments of those aristocrats and rulers who were intrigued by such things; True knights, barons, and gentry of wealth, who took to the sky in the names of their nations, leiges, and causes.

Those men and women who survived the First War, often descended of the old knightly lines, high houses, and military bloodlines of the old Westraz kingdoms, would then go on to form the backbones of the greatly expanded and evolved air forces which came into being by the time of the Second Westraz War. From positions of command, influence, leadership, and guidance, they passed on an image of Westrazwalhiskian aviators being the knights of old reborn. Something often capitalized upon and glorified for propaganda, even if the realities of their conduct and actions were far more pragmatic and ruthless as the war demanded.

This would reach the height of it's romanticization and influence by the time of the Third Westraz War, when military aviation at last bloomed into the form often associated with the era. One populated by mass air battles, and intense dogfights between battle-honed pilots flying late-1910s fighter aircraft. The image and idealization of the Westrazwalhiskian "Knights of the Sky", would almost become a fixture of Westrazwalhiskian culture and a key part of their public perception. Many squadrons would adopt a degree of pageantry in their peacetime paint schemes, and it was not uncommon for squadron badges and roundels to draw influence from or be more akin to medieval heraldry.

This would carry forward into the Great War of the 1940s, where many of the Westrazwahiskian states idolized and made heroes of notable aces and aviators of the conflict. Not even the fact that all of the Westrazwalhiskian air forces involved had long since opened their ranks to accepting trainees from all walks of life and ranks in society, could change this. After the Great War, the idolization of the fighter ace and the image of the "sky knight" or honorable soldier of the air, was one of the common cultural elements shared by the various states forged into the banates of modern westrazwalhiskia. As a result, the image continued to have longevity and influence.

Even into the Austraz-Westraz Conflict of 1978 to 1986, some special squadrons and high ranking aces were known to adopt unique emblems, or sport paint schemes of their aircraft with minor changes or additional elements. Two examples of this can in fact be seen in the histories of the current leadership of Westrazwalhiskia.

Grand Admiral Sirene von Fruhling served as a naval aviator deployed to the southern Austraztor front during the war, and was often known to paint the coat of arms of the historic House Fruhling upon her aircraft from which she is descended, much in the same manner of Westrazwalhiskian aviators from the Westraz Wars and the Great War.

General Air Marshall Keileigh Nagel-See meanwhile, though not descended from the old nobility, is known to have been a part of a unit that flew aircraft with predominantly black paint schemes. An unusual exemption for a non-night fighter unit, likely allowed thanks to the squadron's acclaim as a understrength special air-operations unit made up entirely of aces, and their comparisons to an medieval order of the Blewazawjo lake region; The Knights of the Nordsee, who were said to sport predominantly black heraldry and surcoats.

Though the lack of major air combat and military cost-cutting in the wake of the Austraz-Westraz Conflict has dampened such traditions to a degree, and limited the opportunities for new successors to arise, the legacy of such knightly aesthetics and personalized flourishes have not entirely died out. Many units that survived the conflict, early phase of the civil war, and the military downsizing, still carry over their unique emblems and colour schemes. Such units are also often expected to remain among the best of the best, and uphold the status and capability that was expected of those who earned the squadron their right to altered paint jobs.

Because of this, Westrazwalhiskian training exercises and airshows are somewhat infamous for the competitiveness they can inspire between WAF squadrons. These events are often some of the most visible and high profile ways for older units to prove their continued right to their inherited colours. At the same time, they are also the only reliable route for newer squadrons or individual fighter pilots to occasionally earn the right to a custom paint scheme outside of combat.

As an aside, it is also not uncommon for many Westrazwalhiskian mercenary pilots to adopt unique paint schemes in the vein of the WAF. Following the Great War, it was not uncommon for many pilots who turned to flying as mercenary aviators for other states, to continue to use symbols or portions of paint schemes they may have adopted or used during the war. This was often seen as a useful or subtle way to stand out, boast of past achievements, and eventually tended to be particularly associated with ex-Westrazwalhiskian mercenaries who attained the title of ace. A perception that has eventually become a tradition still carried forward by some into today, with a particularly large revival in the aftermath of the Austraz-Westraz Conflict and the early phase of the Westrazwalhiskian Civil War following the 1986 coup.

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The Artemian Connection - Heroin Hijinks In Abeliandgott Could Come At Ultimate Cost​
- From the Press Association

In a statement released last night by Westrazwalhiskian authorities, it was announced that a combined investigative task force of the Westrazwalhiskian Police Force, the Restricted Substances Enforcement Agency, the Federal Special Investigations Bureau, and the Internal Security Bureau, had led to the bust of one of the largest drug smuggling rings in recent years. This was reportedly an organization of intermediary traffickers that organized drug mules and managed smuggling operations of hard narcotics such as cocaine and heroin from sources across rural Westrazwalhiskia, to major urban and holiday destinations, as well out of the country's borders to recipients in other nations.

The success of this operation however, has now come at the cost of potential international diplomatic controversy. New details released this morning about the success, revealed that the decision to end the observational stage of the investigation and initiate the arrest of all those currently believed to be involved, was the discovery of an in progress plot to smuggle 9 to 12 million Dollars worth of heroin out of the country via international travelers. RSEA agents and undercover WPF officers then learned that the travelers intending to smuggle this shipment of drugs were not only in the country and on the tourist hotspot island of Abeliandgott, but were believed to have airline bookings to depart Westrazwalhiskia within the next two to three days.

Subsequent raids and arrests carried out by the WPF, RSEA, and FSIB, led to the arrest of at least 10 foreign individuals, whose names have not been released (pending response from their foreign embassies), but whose nationalities, genders, and ages have been released;

Four of those arrested and currently awaiting charges are apparently Artemian nationals, three men (Aged 21, 22, and 24) and one woman (aged 20). Statements by Westrazwalhiskian officials indicate that the likely destination of the drugs they carried was Artemia. There, it would likely have been dead dropped or directly received by a crime syndicate associated with the suppliers of the intermediaries organizing and recruiting the drug mules.

A fifth suspect has been identified as a 23 year old Venetian male, but their place of residence, final destination of travel, and intended destination for the heroin they were intended to smuggle, are all revealed to also have been Artemia.

Two suspects, a 20 year old male and a 19 year old female, are revealed to be citizens of the United Federal Republic of Mangazena, but like the fifth suspect, are believed to be residents of Artemia, bound to return home, and with Artemia as the intended destination for their portions of the heroin.

It has been suggested by authorities that suspects 1 through 7 are all either acquaintances with one another or more closely connected through particular members of the group, who likely recruited the others to smuggle heroin back to the same destination in southwestern Artemia.

Of the remaining suspects with international connections arrested so far, one is a Westrazwalhiskian male with dual-citizenship for both Westrazwalhiskia and Artemia (aged 25), and a second is a male dual-citizen of Westrazwalhiskia and Outer Haven (aged 31). Two more suspects have also been arrested who are said to be male citizens of Outer Haven, currently residing in Westrazwalhiskia (aged 28 and 29) on work visas. RSEA officials have stated that they believe that these four and at least two of the Artemian male suspects were the main recruiters and ringleaders of the plot, with some of them suspected to have previous ties to Westrazwalhiskian drug cartels involved in the growth, production, and refinement of illicit substances in commercial quantities, while others are believed to be associated with other organizations and groups with ties to Outer Haven and the global black market trade in restricted narcotics.

Westrazwalhiskia's eventual prosecution of those arrested has also already become mired and politically charged. While Westrazwalhiskia has eased some of it's laws regarding drug use and possession in recent years, a history of totalitarian measures to curb the activities of cartels in it's southeast by both the previous and current governments, have left Westrazwalhiskia with some of the harshest of laws and and punishments that can be filed against those charged with involvement in commercial scale drug trafficking. Due to the unexpectedly high number of foreign nationals involved in this high profile bust however, the Restricted Substances Enforcement Agency and the Federal Special Investigations Bureau were initially willing to pursue comparatively lighter sentences when laying charges against those of foreign citizenship.

Further investigation of evidence and information attained during the raids however, has now led the Internal Security Bureau to believe narcotics production and drug money from previous activities of this smuggling ring, has gone towards supporting persons of interest and groups with separatist associations. Because of this, ISB has declared further investigation of the matter an internal security interest, and have said they will likely aim to prosecute with this context in mind. To that end, they will likely aim for the maximum penalties of either life-sentences without parole, or execution.

The unusually large number of suspects aside, it would not be the first time that Westrazwalhiskia charged a foreign drug smuggler caught in possession of an exceptionally large amount of narcotics, and levied the harshest possible punishment against them. In 2006, Luisina Taras, a Dorestani sailor, was sentenced to life in a Westrazwalhiskian prison after being caught with 3.2 million Dollars worth of cocaine hidden on his yacht in 2004. In 2001, sisters Thekla Van Arendonk and Dora van Arendonk from Tumurtarak, were executed after ten years of failed appeals against their charges of attempting to smuggle large amounts of methamphetamine out of Westrazwalhiskia in their airline luggage. And in 1998, Susumu Ha-Yun of Ryi-Kan was similarly executed following a failed ten year appeal period, after being caught attempting to purchase 2.8 million Dollars worth of heroin that he planned to later smuggle out of the country.

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"Unity follows division, and division follows unity. The curse of this land is that swallows and sparrows can not know the flight of the eagle and hawk, and are all too often led astray by the vulture and raven."
- Westrazwalhiskian medieval play
 
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Parliament to authorize arms delivery worth 600 billion Nerm for Agnigrad socialists

"As the Agni civil war rages on, it has become clear that the military junta cannot be allowed to take control of the country. As such, we the parliament of the Artish Nation of the Biotechnical and Engineering Institute are moving to support the country's socialists in their struggle. We are shipping considerable artillery, automatic rifles, support organisms, autonomous weaponry, vehicles, ammunition, and other supplies to Red Agni starting immediately, with trainers in their use."

According to the official statement, shipments will be delivered to Agnigrad through Doggerland after a brief voyage through the North Sea. Insurance and shipping payments have already been arranged, and the Dogger government has been notified. The first shipments should arrive in approximately a week from the date of publication.

When reached for comment, the Administration for Military Procurement noted "Most of the money is actually for replacing what we're sending to Agnigrad. What's getting shipped is generally our reserve equipment; last-gen materiel that still hasn't been retired just yet to save money, while still being useful on the modern battlefield. That said, that stuff's also our buffer against attrition in case of war with Misca. As such, we're spooling up manufacturing of our current generation equipment, effective immediately. If the Agnigrad Civil War goes on longer than a few months that's what we'll be sending them.

Rest assured that we won't be compromising domestic security in interests of supporting our allies in Agnigrad. Should Misca attack during this episode, we will be ready for them. In addition, they still haven't quite finished piecing their military back together after the third Tish-Miscan War, meaning they are not ready to invade at the present time."

According to recent polls, public support is mostly in favor of the measure, though it does have critics. One such critic is noted cynical misanthrope Doctor Albert Crafty, a robotics engineer working in military research and development. He is on record as saying "Those backwards Agni wouldn't know the front side of a tank if it were clearly labeled! If you want to get rid of the Junta, just send in the killbots and be done wi-
 
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Second Agni Civil War, Summer, and the End of the War​

While the Second Agni Civil War often takes a backseat to the crisis occurring in the Dominion, it still stands out as a time of strife and instability among the massive regional power. Though the dramatic springtime offensives saw little interference from outside forces, the victories achieved by the Socialists snapped the observing powers from their reverie. By the time Spring shifted into Summer, huge shipments of military equipment were pouring into the reserves of both factions of the Civil War, each side desperate to begin moving to meddle in the civil war to somehow warp it into their favor. On the side of the Socialists, the ANoBTEI, Mewonyamaw, Ratan, and Vasada all pledged heavy support to the democratically elected government of Agnigrad. Meanwhile, the Military Junta received support from the corporate forces of Outer Haven, as well as the Kingdom of Einher. Katrazia, who had offered token support to the Socialists, had immediately begun supplying large amounts of equipment to the Junta in an attempt to prop up the military regime as it was their belief that an Agnigrad in civil war was an Agnigrad that could not threaten their sovereignty.

In fact, the Katrazians had become nervous at the prospect of a socialist victory on their southern border. Thus the Black Chamber, Katrazia's premier intelligence service, had begun crossing the border into Junta occupied areas with the intent of contacting and organizing several cells of Junta-aligned contra's to harass Socialist rear lines and commit to Guerilla warfare should the Junta be pushed out of the country entirely. The operation was well-planned and had the entire cooperation of the Junta aligned government, but the Black Chamber were not the only ones interested in the post-war scene. The AXIS, the legendary and notorious secret service of the Peasants Republic, became very interested in the actions of the Black Chamber, their eternal rival. Thus began a brief shadow war between the two as Black Chamber operatives worked to establish their resistance cells as the AXIS diligently hunted them down. In the end, the Black Chamber could not achieve its goals for the end of its first round of operations, with many Junta officials suddenly gaining cold-feet during the operation and BC agents suddenly became more and more targeted by the AXIS.

Not helping the Green Armies cause, the Agni Air Force Chief of Staff became an unfortunate victim of his own profession. While he was personally inspecting the stranded fighter jets north of Greater Agnigrad, Socialist (and possibly foreign) code-breakers determined his location and executed a decapitation strike. The resulting attack was carried out by an Agni MiG, firing a laser-guided missile destroying the Generals staff car and eliminating the Chief of the Air Force. Though not critical, the blow to the Junta high command was nevertheless felt by the Green Army. It is possibly what set off a new offensive performed by the Green Army, attempting to break out from the Socialist encirclement and buy ground between the army and the Industrial heart of the country. The sheer ferocity of the attack combined with Field Marshal Crawl's absence struck the Red Army hard. In the recent months, both the Green Army and the Red Army had received thousands of tons in military equipment, from tanks to artillery pieces and rifles, drastically increasing the combat capabilities of the opposing sides. It was the Socialists' decisive supply advantage that brought them the victory, with a decisive 2-1 ratio in artillery and other weapons denied the Junta and ability to capitalize on their gains. By the end of the offensive, the Green Army had made little ground.

It was by this time Field Marshal Conrad Crawl had returned to the front from Unterostgrad and took command. Immediately gathering his elite army divisions that had been held in reserve to plug the gaps, he made several strikes alongside the entirety of the front using his armored and motorized forces as spearheads, breaking through and by passing the enemy as the slower moving shield of the infantry followed in their wake, cleaning up the remnants. Rather than strike directly towards Greater Agnigrad, however, Crawl instead focused more on striking piecemeal and threatening several encirclements of the Green Army. Forced to either be surrounded and crushed or withdrawn, the Junta found itself rapidly losing ground as Crawl denied them the ability to withdraw in an organized manner. Due to the more urban nature of the conflict, casualties began to rise significantly on both sides in the fierce house to house fighting, and fortified warehouses and factories traded hands several times during intense fighting. While the Junta certainly had the advantage in fighting on the defensive, Crawl's aggressive combined-arms approach to the attack as well as his edge in equipment secured victory for the Socialists and by the middle of July the Socialists were at the gates of Greater Agnigrad itself.

It was at this time a coup happened within the Junta itself. Junior officers, dissatisfied with the result of months of military disaster and defeat, suddenly stormed the military headquarters within both Agnigrad and Fort Justynkol. Several instances of street to street fighting occurred as the citizens, emboldened by the infighting of the military and the presence of the Red army rose up into riotous rebellion. In the end, the coup succeeded and the riots were put down. The Green Army was now commanded by Brigadier General Dmetri Yulonov, who actually attended the same military academy with Field Marshal Conrad (Dmetri scored higher while Conrad, an avid slacker and troublemaker, scored second to last). The new Brigadier General locked General Brevens and the Junta away for crimes against the Agni and turned to forcing the Socialists back from the increasingly dire situation within the Green pocket. The next months saw numerous offensives attempted by the Green Army, and both the outskirts of Greater Agnigrad and the industrial heartland of the nation became devastated by the heavy fighting. Despite his numerical and positional advantage, Field Marshal Conrad Crawl could not perform his style of aggressive advances and tactical breakthroughs. Instead, he organized himself to contain the Green Army within the city of Greater Agnigrad and allow the Greens to tire themselves out. The strategy was long and bloody, but grinding, attritional warfare was the specialty of the Agni and the better equipped and motivated Socialists were able to gain the upper hand multiple times in the ensuing weeks.

It was the beginning of August that the war entered the beginning of the end. With the Green Army focused on defending and attacking from Greater Agnigrad itself, Field Marshal crawl finally played his ace card. His veteran army units, armed with the highest quality foreign weapons and vehicles and covered by the total air superiority of the Red Army, began Operation Hangman. Hangman involved a two pronged assault from the north-west and south-east ends of Greater Agnigrad, the hardened 'Shock Army' devastating Green lines with heavy artillery barrages and airstrikes before a sudden and rapid advance sundered what was left of the exhausted Greens. With the city itself threatened with encirclement, Brigadier General Yulonov was forced to abandon the capitol and fled with the high command to Lesser Agnigrad, but the damage had already been done. A majority of the Green Army was encircled within the city, and the commanding officer saw no point in continuing the conflict, surrendering the city and turning the Green Army into the care of the CRDA.

Though August would see further fighting in the western half of the country, especially in the Green Armies desperate flight from Lesser Agnigrad, the war was effectively over with the conclusion of the 15th Siege of Greater Agnigrad. Soon, Boris Yeles, as well as Murial Notmann and Ivan Yule, landed in the Agnigrad National Airport to cheering crowds waving crimson and black banners and flags with the Field Marshal Conrad Crawl personally welcoming the ruling committee to the city.

With the flight of General Yulonov and the Green Army from the country, the Socialists were able to turn inwards. The rubber-stamping senate installed by the Junta was, surprisingly to most, pardoned unanimously by CRDA though it was believed the Vice President was privately pressured to flee the country into an early retirement. The Socialist coalition believed they were victims of the military's actions and, subsequently, focused their ire towards the military as a result. The instigator of the civil war, General Breven, was tried for treason and executed as were the remaining Chiefs of Staff who were imprisoned in Yulonov's coup. Many more senior and junior officers were court martialed and sentenced to time in prison as entire swathes of Green Army soldiers were press-ganged into labor groups to begin reconstruction of the war-torn nation until their month or year long sentences were fulfilled.

As the CRDA dissolved into a provisional care-taker government in the wake of the war the question for many was who truly won this conflict? While the Socialists as a whole escaped the indignity of defeat and could reform the nation as they saw fit, one of the biggest winners turned out to be none other than the Field Marshal Conrad Crawl himself, the war hero being beloved by both the public at large and the army in particular. A famous picture would be taken of the Field Marshal standing on the balcony of the old Imperial Palace which he had claimed as the Red Armies Headquarters waving down to the masses of both black and red banded militia and civilians. Vocal hardline critics call the 'Generalissimo' the next threat to the revolution, his blatant populism and growing influence within Agnigrad placing far too much power into one man's hands. However, these critics are in the stark minority as the majority attempt to curry favor with the politically and publicly savvy officer. As the provisional government begins a round of month-long negotiations and political lobbying to push forward their ideological system, Field Marshal Crawl has been offered the role as Administrative Caretaker and taking the reigns as an interim and unbiased Head of State for the new socialist government of Agnigrad.

As many eyebrows raise at the Agni trading one military leader for another, they are also coming to terms with a fact that has been in the making for the last 80 years; The Giant of the Jungle is stirring, and soon he may well indeed awaken.


The ports of Ganima were not unused to bustling into the night, as ports and their production were vital to any modern day society and their economy. Tonight was especially busy, the harbors all along the coast in constant movement as cargo ships entered and left. On the docks and piers themselves cranes loaded cargo container after cargo container containing weapons and equipment smuggled into the country or carried by soldiers from Agnigrad. Speaking of those soldiers, the warehouses had been converted into poorly makeshift barracks to which thousands of men were currently housed. Right now, over a hundred men in civilian dress were marching up a gangplank onto the deck of a merchant ship ready to take them abroad. 'Marching', that was the important detail to note. Many of the men were exhausted and disheveled, some walked with limps as others looked far ahead at nothing at all, but they still retained their discipline and marched as a group instead of shuffling as defeated failures. They were exhausted and depressed, but they still had a determined fight left in them.

But that fight would not come, at least for some time. Observing the embankment from a shipping office, General Yulonov shoved a cigarette butt into a well-used ashtray. Unlike the men he now commanded, Dmetri insisted on shouldering the uniform of Brigadier General though the only sign of station on his camouflage uniform was the single star embroidered on his epaulets as well as the green beret left on the table. The only other marking on the Agni camo uniform was the flag of the old Peasant's Republic which he would have found ironically funny if the reality wasn't so depressing. Now, instead of the armies of Green Peasants forcing the Crimson's into the frozen sea, the reverse had happened and the Second Agni Civil War ended much the same as the first.

Yulonov placed another cigarette into his mouth and lit it, taking a deep drag and pouring himself another glass of whiskey (His second and final, as there was still work to do). General Dmetri wondered if his Imperial Majesty felt the same sense of dread when he was held captive by the communists. At the very least, he reasoned, at least the Emperor knew when and where he was going to die, but Dmetri was alive and he still had an army and if he had an army then that meant he could fight. If not today then in the future, but now he had to cede the field to that bastard Crawl. He took another drag of tobacco before washing down the smoky taste with a swig of alcohol.

Footsteps came from behind him. He turned and saw the one person he both instinctively hated and had to thank for this entire operation: the Director of the Black Chamber. The Director dressed like he always did: black robes over a lanky figure, a hood drawn over the head, and a monstrous golden mask hiding the face. A pair of straight horns emerged through holes in the hood, marking the lanky man as a katraz.

On either side of the goddamn cultist were bodyguards, both human. They were dressed like civilians, but the holstered pistols gave it away.

The Director bowed. "Good evening, General. I hope the hour finds you well?" He sounded polite, but Yulonov had enough experience to tell the difference between sincere and insincere politeness; under the voice, Yulonov could hear the Director's tone radiating pure smugness.

Dmetri sized up the larger Katrazian (not man), before standing up to meet the Director.

"The hour is late, and I am tired. But I am still ready to fight." He let another puff of smoke escape his lips and tossed the cigarette into the tray, before picking up his cup of liquor. "It isn't every day or night someone my government labels as the most dangerous man on the continent comes to visit, so is this for business or your own pleasure?"

Yulonov knew it must be tickling the Goats silly that the loyalists of the Green Army were begging for their help. Probably why they were helping in the first place instead of handing him back to Crawl and his cronies, to really rub salt into the wound.

"It is only personal, General. A host must see his guest off, after all."

The Director cocked his head towards the window, to the port outside. "Though I do wish we could have met under...better circumstances. Our work together has been most certainly enlightening of Agnigrad's capabilities."

It felt like Yulonov just swallowed a bitter tonic. He was still a loyal son of the Agni, so to betray his nation even if it was in the hands of those traitors made him want to vomit. However, Dmetri also knew some morals and beliefs had to be compromised for greater purposes, even if it meant collaborating with the Katrazians of all people.

The Director swept his hands with a flourish. "But have confidence, General. I have no doubt that this cooperation will surely bear fruit for your army's return."

"That is the intended goal, Director." Yulonov responded. "And you will be working to secure all of my men, correct? Even the ones who have fled to foreign borders? I'll need everyone if we want our… 'partnership' to actually go anywhere."

"Oh absolutely, General. Short of your men ending up in the hands of," he spat the next word out, "the hairballs, the Chamber will do its utmost to ensure your men reach Haven. And you can be certain our counterparts in the ASRB have similar desires."

The Director did another strange hand flourish. "But have no fear of AXIS. Their directive has not changed for the last half century. They will not go after your men, despite their capabilities."

AXIS…

Yulonov had his opinions on AXIS, like any member of the government or military, little of it good. But unlike many, he recognized AXIS for what it was. While Agnigrad had floundered under Emerald rule, the AXIS has always been there pulling at the strings. Making seemingly random decisions and requesting unusual items from the army and other branches of the military. The Agni may have stagnated, but the AXIS had not. In fact, they were most likely in the midst of something big, seeing as how they had to have allowed the civil war to happen. But Yulonov was not in a place to criticize even the Black Chambers arrogance when directed towards their traditional rival. That was not his end of the deal.

"Your soldiers that are staying behind for the network will be treated with utmost hospitality. Have no worries for them."

"It is my job to worry, Director, but I will hold you to your word." Yulonov left the glass of whiskey on the desk of the office before he grabbed his beret, snapping it out to open it and donning the olive garment. He turned and approached the Director before holding out his hand.

"While I would love to chat some more, Director," General Yulonov lied easily, "I am afraid I need to address some of my troops before they embark. I would like to thank you for your country's hospitality."

"Oh please, General, the honor is all mine." Even though the Director's face was hidden, Yulonov could tell the Director felt the same way. "But before you go, a parting gift."

The Director snapped his fingers. Another bodyguard emerged from behind him--where did she come from? How did she not make a sound?--bearing a wooden box in her hands.

She stepped up to Yulonov and presented the box. He reached for it gingerly, opened it, ready for some kind of Chamber trick.

Inside the box was a bottle of...alcohol? He took it out, examined it closely.

"Zolan Number One Single Malt, aged fifty years," the Director said.

Well, at least they knew good alcohol. Thank the heavens for small favors, Demtri supposed.

"Thank you, Director." The General shifted the bottle into the crook of his arm and walked past the Katrazian and their two guards. He paused in the door for only a second.

"I hope the next time we meet it will be for a common goal in mind."

And with that, General Dmetri Yulonov was gone into the night.



Back in the Agnigrad Imperial Park, the old man sat once more on his bench. The summer air was hot and stuffy, but the shade of the old tree he sat under made the heat from the sun rather bearable. This time he was looking around the park rather than the birds and park rodents that gathered at his feet. The tension of fear that had choked the city during the war was long gone. Instead of anxious frowns and huddled groups, people walked by with open and happy smiles. A family was even having a picnic out on the open field by the city park's large pond. Their dog was happily playing fetch with a young boy.

The only difference from this scene to any other summer in the park was how nearly everyone wore black or red bands around their arms, and how there was a suspicious lack of any clothing of quality. Revolution had come to Agnigrad, and yet it was almost unnoticeable in this calm park. Almost.

A man wearing a suit and tie sat next to the old man and handed him a wrapped up sub-sandwich before pulling one out himself. He took a bite as the old man slowly and gently unwrapped his own lunch before speaking.

"So, we're letting the merger go through? We have the shareholders to twist the deal however we like."

"It is not our place to force the company down a path, we just simply make sure it goes down the path most profitable to itself. To us." The old man explained. "All we must do is let our partners slip into the cracks when the deals are made. We can take the rest from there."

The suited man nodded. He made to stand up before pausing, remembering something. "By the way, our friend Ivan said he's in on that game of chess later."

"Ivan, from the Army?"

"The very same."

"Very good. I'd like to arrange that meeting today. 5 o'clock."

"Can do."

"And what about our independently minded voter?"

"The Furnace Makers took him in as we predicted. He's planning on taking his brand overseas. Outer Haven would be his best bet."

"Then our portfolio is proceeding exactly as planned."

"Yes sir."

The man in the suit turned to walk away when the older gentleman cleared his throat. Turning around, he saw his senior raise an unamused eyebrow and point at his unfinished sandwich.

"Clean up after yourself."

"S-sorry." Quickly picking up the trash, the suited man turned and swiftly departed.

The old man took a bite of his sub, humming happily at the Arcadian style sandwich. Things were going ahead of schedule, which was good. The Boss would greatly enjoy living to see his work through.
 
Keya Faria raised an eyebrow at the newspaper she was reading. Well. Now she was very glad Ruvuma hadn't gotten involved in Agni. She'd been expecting a long-term civil war with lots of death and destruction. And to be sure, there had been plenty of death and destruction, but the military junta had, in the end, folded like a cheap card table.

Oh well. She had no quarrel with the Socialists in Agni. Let the government tear their hair out, as long as they kept the revolution at home she was perfectly prepared to live and let live.

She set down the front page and picked up the economics section. Oh, good, the stock market was picking up again now that investors were expecting Agni resources to start flowing out again. Inflation, though, remained stubbornly high, which frankly mattered more. The prospect of an election and a new set of old men to work with was looking increasingly likely.

Again, not her problem. What was her problem were all the Junta troops that had trickled out of Agni. Her contacts in the east were reporting that, rather than put down roots in the countries they were fleeing too, the troops were being shipped west and gathered up. And it didn't take a genius to see who was doing the gathering.

Outer Haven was, in her opinion, a threat to the entire continent. Not strictly because of their raw power, but just because they were sufficiently unhinged as to do almost anything. And one of their limitations? Not-great infantry.

A few thousand good infantry wouldn't make a difference. But those infantry training up the mass of the desperate Outer Haven could muster? Significantly more worrisome.

Nodding, Faria set aside the newspaper and began composing a memo to herself. Luna Child would be eating up her resources for the foreseeable future, but she could at least track the troops wherever they went...

~o~
​
"And in Agni, the Socialists have just prevailed over the the oppressors that would deny them their rightful victory! I say, if it can be done in Agni, why not here? Why can we, Socialists of Ruvuma, not do the same? I say there is no reason we can't do the same!

But if we are to do the same, I must rely on all of you! To come to the polls in the next election, to continue your generous donations! For socialism can only prevail if the people make it so!"

The crowd, three hundred thousand strong, roared in approval. The Seaside Park in Chaperuca normally only hosted such crowds for the annual Seaside Music Festival. But now all those people were here to hear him, João Gonçalves, head of Ruvuma's Social Democratic Party. João let the crowd go for another thirty seconds before waving to the crowd and stepping down from the podium. Even behind the screen showing their party symbol, the crowd was only barely muffled. Still, he was out of sight. Good enough.

Immediately, João leaned over and began hyperventilating, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. Immediately, a hand thrust a paper bag in front of him, which he grabbed and placed over his mouth. Slowly, he came down from his panic, a hand rubbing his back. Finally, he looked up into the worried eyes of Vinza, his assistant.

"Whoever said that public speaking gets easier with experience," João spat. "Was a filthy liar."

"I don't know, João, the first time you had one of these big speeches you threw up halfway through. And that was in a bar to a dozen people!" Vinza cheerfully retorted.

With all the dignity he could muster, João straightened up, tugged at his suit jacket to straighten it, and fixed a pointed glare at his friend. A glare that failed to do much of anything.

"Let's just get to the damn meeting," João groused.

"As you say."

The two set off behind the stage for the repurposed tour bus they and their staff were using on this barnstorming trip around Ruvuma. As they walked, the two talked of things of importance to the party, but not so important they needed to call a major meeting.

"How's the mood of the people?" João asked.

"Well, the people are annoyed at the current administration," Vinza reported. "Unsurprising, considering the number of scandals and the current inflation problem. We're expecting a snap election within the year."

By which he meant even more scandals than normal for a People's Democratic Party government, and the across-the-board increase in prices that had hit Ruvuma since the start of the Agni Civil War. While self-sufficient in many key consumer goods, Ruvuma was not isolated from the global commodities market and that market had been hit with a supply shock thanks to the Agni Civil War cutting off any Agni sources. A strictly temporary shock, mind, now that the Agnis were reunited again and needed money desperately for rebuilding, but the inflation was unlikely to ease before a snap election was called and it was bad news for the incumbent party.

"Have our policy guys draw up a plan to deal with the inflation," João ordered. "It should be gone by the time we have to actually start governing, but I want a plan just in case."

"Done," Vinza replied. "As for our own numbers, polling states we have no chance at any seats, but that's government polling. Independent statisticians are putting us at about 30% of the seats. They very much like our rallies, think they're spreading word of our policies. And more importantly, that people are connecting with them."

João nodded. That had been the downfall of Ruvuma's first socialist party. Well, that and their weird monarchist obsession, but the fact that they were revolutionaries and wanted revolution ASAP had not gotten them much traction, a mere decade after the Great War. And then the assassinations had started... He was softballing things, in comparison: they were mainly running on an anti-trust platform with vaguer promises of welfare reform. Always a good sell with the crowds. More radical measures could be passed once the people got used to them.

"As far as other parties, the Social Justice Party is on good footing and will likely gain seats, and the Conservatives look like they'll break through."

João paused, one hand on the door to the tour bus. "The Conservatives?" he repeated, incredulous. "What's their platform?"

"They're billing themselves as a less-corporatist People's Democratic Party," Vinza answered.

"Eh, could be worse. Dig a little deeper, see if their platform is one we can work with. They may be useful allies."

"Will do."

~o~
​
... Initial historiography held that Queen Theresa's decision to create the Military District system was one based solely on the military necessity of furnishing sufficient troops to win the Civil War. Of course, as this opinion was formed in the runup to the Great War, it was tinged strongly with flavors of mythology, Theresa being held up as an unparalleled military genius and the Military Districts as a revolution in military organization. Theresa was not invincible or infallible as a commander, and while the Military District system allowed Ruvuma to furnish unusual numbers of trained soldiers for the era, the Dominion and Westrazwalhiskia fielding armies of similar size, to speak solely of the local neighborhood.

The new generation of postwar academics swung hard in the opposite direction. To these young students, inculcated in the Socialist atmosphere of postwar Ruvuman academia, Queen Theresa was a vanguard of the revolution, raising the proletariat at the expense of the landowning nobility1​. More, that very raising was her sole motivation for the task, the soldiers gained being an incidental bonus in this narrative. As with prior historiography, the bias is plain to see.

Modern historiography, as is often the case, falls somewhere in the middle. That Queen Theresa's reforms were a military necessity is undeniable - there was no way possible Theresa would have retaken the country with a thousand mercenary infantry and three hundred knights, and the Military Districts provided her the heavy infantry she would become famed for. At the same time, her writings from the time make it quite clear that she took a special glee in seizing the land of nobles and handing it over to the peasantry, as well that she was not blind to the effect that such actions had on the loyalty of said peasantry to her reign.

That loyalty would prove one of her greatest assets when it came time for her to actually rule...

National Mythmaking: Historiography, Pop History, and the Ruvuman Civil War, Nhamatanga University Institute Press, 2007

  1. Yes, John, this is the source of the odd monarchist streak in Ruvuman socialism.​
 
RSS Admiral Gilder is launched today. Who was the Admiral and why is our Flagship named for him?
-Saranan Times, 2003
​
Admiral Gilder is one of those historical figures that everyone just loves to talk about, like Queen Theresa or Dominus the Great. The kind of personality that could only have come out of the halcyon days before mechanized or industrial warfare. A man who thrived on adventure and glory in ways that create a legend. Maybe, more disdainfully, the kind of personality that would have been drummed out of any formal military and thrown in prison with the key tossed away. All would be accurate, all would be true, and yet because of the time, he is a national hero. Revered in both Sarana and Valua while hated- yet respected -in Kazai.

Born in 1730, Gilder was a man that some said was destined for adventure from birth. With the Blue Moonstone his symbol, perhaps that was true. Arcadian religion would say that he was associated with the ocean and wind from the start, and he would certainly prove that true. Within a decade, he was already spending most of his time aboard his father's merchantmen, sailing all over the Atlantic. With his untamed brown hair and inquisitive grey eyes, the young Gilder is noted as having been an impossibly curious boy. He would dart across the ship, asking all sorts of questions about everything from the sailing rig to the cannon. More than once, his father had to drag him down from the mast, before the boy managed to hurt himself.

All it served to do was fuel his growing desire for adventure.

For by the time he reached adulthood, Gilder had already decided he would have his own ship. In the days where Arcadia was still working out how to be a 'united country' it was not difficult for a particularly industrious man to build a warship-in-all-but-name. The Claudia, Gilder's first love, was a sleek single-deck frigate that was built by the finest commercial shipwrights in Sarana. A fast and agile vessel that carried a far heavier broadside than most ships of the type, she was soon to earn a reputation for being impossible to catch. For Gilder would routinely take her out and race other ships, even the Navy, just for the kicks.

His sense of adventure was balanced by a sense of loyalty to those he considered friends, however. When Arcadia and Kazai went to war over a routine border skirmish in Kazai, 'Captain' Gilder joined up with the Saranan contingent and the Claudia was always in the thick of battle. In fact, she became something of a bane for Tenkou warships, proving faster and stronger than anything they could try and throw against her. More often than not, in spite of Kazai's love of the wind and water, Gilder would sail up to one of their frigates and bombard it into submission before vanishing as quickly as he had come.

While Kazai's fleet tore their collective hair out trying to hunt the man down, Gilder would join up with the Valuan Navy, where he met what could be called the bane of his career. One Captain Clara, a Valuan noblewoman with the same sense of adventure and flair for the dramatic. Her third-rate Ship of the Line seemed a poor match for the sleek Claudia, just as the frilly and pompous woman was nothing like the hardbitten and wild Arcadian. And yet, they were soon to become inseparable. Not for lack of trying!

Gilder would often attempt to 'run away' from Clara and her fancily engraved Rose, yet his speedy Claudia would always find her way back. The man, himself, swore that he would never be tied down to someone so slow and fancy. While Clara swore that she would 'tame the beast'. It was the kind of thing cheesy television dramas were made for, and some argue that the story has almost certainly been embellished over the years. Regardless of it was, or not, the core of the tale is accepted history. As is where it eventually end.

Kazai's navy, and the Tenkou that made up the fast wing thereof, had tired of Gilder and his raids. While the main fleet tangled with the still-disunited Arcadian Navies, a battlegroup of frigates and fast Ships of the Line would descend upon Valua. All that stood in their way was the Valuan Home Fleet, stripped of its heaviest units to support the main Arcadian effort. Three Ships of the Line- including Captain Clara's -and a dozen smaller ships, against no fewer than eight Ships of the Line and nearly twice as many smaller ships. Drops in the bucket compared to the main fleets of Arcadia and Kazai, perhaps, yet still a large force.

When made aware of this impending attack by a member of Clara's crew, dispatched on a swift schooner, Captain Gilder would show his true colors. He immediately rose Claudia's sails, gathered a group of Rixian frigates, and sailed with all haste towards Valua. He pushed his men and those of the Rixis ships as hard as they had ever been pushed before. With the wind at his back in a way that only one born in Blue could hope, he would arrive with his small squadron right as the Tenkou ships began to attack the Valuan fleet.

The battle that would result is legendary for good reason and worth an entire movie of its own, as has happened on more than one occasion.

In simplest terms, Captain Gilder would drive his already weather-beaten squadron right through the heart of the Kazai formation. Claudia, swift and nimble, blasted away with every cannon she had. Her flag flew high as Gilder took the helm with his own hands, darting between Ships of the Line while his crew feverishly fired away. Her oversized guns battered in the hull of multiple frigates while damaging a Third Rate. Even as her own hull was battered in from multiple broadsides, the famous frigate kept on going. Behind Gilder, the Rixis frigates were rather less reckless, yet just as important, linking up with the Valuan counterparts and driving the Tenkou ships towards the body of the main fleet, such as it was.

Through it all, Gilder continued to fight alone, even when he was forced from the helm and to using his beautifully crafted pistols against Tenkou boarding parties. He stood tall among his crew and fought until the end, even when his ship finally began to settle.

It was only when the equally battered- though still mobile -Rose pulled alongside that Gilder allowed himself to rest. The man, bloody and beaten, would stride to the side of his crippled 'first love' and stare up at Clara, who had discarded her frilly dresses for clothing that was downright mannish. She famously stared back, giving him a thankful smile and an offer to tow his ship back to Valua's docks.

Gilder is recorded as looking around his ship, her splintered and blood-soaked deck already settling deeper. He is said to have wiped his face once, shook his head, and turned back to Clara.

"No, let her rest. She'll sail the seas forever, this way. It's what she would want."

Or so the legends go. Clara would take Gilder's crew aboard her own ship, as his beloved frigate slipped beneath the waves. Escorted by the surviving Valuan and Rixis ships, the battered fleet returned to port, with only a pair of enemy frigates surviving to bring the tale back to Kazai.

This battle, more than anything, ended the War. Kazai had lost too much of her navy to protect against Arcadian raids as their main fleet bashed itself against the metaphorical wall that were the Arcadian Navies. It is, in large part, why Gilder is still a touchy subject in Kazai, even as the Tenkou deeply respect the man for his skill in battle and personal bravery. He was the scourge of their fleet, yet he was also a man who fought tooth and nail for what he truly cared for, in the end. Even his enemy can't help but respect the man for this.

Yet, what of the man himself?

In the aftermath of the war, Gilder would be promoted to Commodore and receive a new ship, though she would never be the same as his beloved Claudia. He would, as well, finally marry Captain Clara in a ceremony held aboard the Valuan's own ship, under repair in dock. Neither of them would have had it any other way, after what they had seen and done at sea. And if Gilder was married and in proper command now, he never would settle down. He would continue his rollicking adventures across the sea, fighting in many skirmishes against pirates and other such things. He would be one of the first Arcadians to visit Switz, laying down a framework that exists to this day, when it comes to that island. He explored many distant coastlines and even the deep forests of Rixis.

Eventually promoted to Admiral, Gilder would end his life as he had lived, at sea and aboard his flagship. Struck down by age, not by enemy fire. His children with Clara would continue his legacy, one of them eventually commanding the Valuan Royal Navy in the most recent war against Kazai.

And, even centuries later, Gilder's story endures. In the form of the most advanced of the Arcadian nuclear battleships, the Admiral Gilder.
 
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