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| [FINISHED] The Invasion of Vandinium; Continued in The Last Stand | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 21 2016, 09:50 PM (212 Views) | |
| Hawkwick | Jan 21 2016, 09:50 PM Post #1 |
Co-Keeper
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ACT I --------------------------------------------------------------------- Zwickau, Heimar, 1:00 PM, Day 0 --------------------------------------------------------------------- The scene outside the mall was chaotic. EMTs and agents from almost every major law enforcement and intelligence agency were scrambling around, treating survivors, and collecting evidence. Blue and red flashing lights could be seen as a small convoy of black SUVs made their way through the sealed off entrances and parked outside the front doors. A tall, middle aged, attractive woman with brown hair stepped out of the SUV flanked by several other armed agents. She was Amelie Wezterberg, the new director of DRAGON, the Altic Union’s militarized intelligence agency. She had been assigned director just after Markus Albrecht became Kaiser, taking over after Matterhorn’s ‘removal’. Immediately several other agents began bombarding her with information. She seemed to either take it all in easily, or ignore it all together as she walked through the doors. Inside, the mall looked like a scene from a horror movie. Blood, and bodies littered the entire lobby. Several agents were still photographing and marking evidence, however Amelie headed straight toward a small cafe at the other end of the mall. After several minutes, she walked into the cafe to find a dozen or so dead men on the floor. They were all armed with assault rifles and combat gear. One of the agents in the room spoke up, “Ma’am. We think they are of Vandiniumite origin. All of them are wearing Vandiniumite gear and weapons, and we did facial scans and ran it through the system. We got nothing. We think maybe they’re Imperial agents.” She walked over and quickly looked over the dead men’s gear. “Looks to be that way. Notify the military to be on alert,” she said to another senior agent. “Get everyone that isn’t DRAGON personnel out, I want security tight.” After several nods, the agents began moving quickly, escorting all the non-DRAGON personnel out of the mall. Quietly Amelie walked away from everyone within earshot. She took out her phone and quickly dialed a number. After several rings, an answer. “Sir. It’s done. Everything seems to have gone smoothly. I’ll be at the palace in a few hours to discuss the next step.” she said. “Good. I’ve got something big in store for you.” Markus replied. Capital Building, Vandinium, 1:30 PM, Day 0 --------------------------------------------------------------------- “You’ve got to be kidding me…” Fredrick barely let out a puff of air, muttering under his own voice. This entire trial was a one-sided bloodbath. The senate room always seemed freezing. Eyes all across the room focused on Fredrick, standing at a small podium. Cassius spoke up from across the room, sitting at a large desk embedded into the wall along with old engravings all along it depicting law and order. “Mr. Stien, please keep your comments to yourself while senator Cronus speaks!” Fredrick rolled his eyes and leaned against the railing, training his eyes at the table in the center of the room with a crown in the middle, encased in glass, his father’s crown. A senator who was standing whilst others sat continued. “Now, with what I gathered, with these letters and documentation, with several nations visiting the palace, and with testimony from a former guard, I can conclude the investigation, of which I was elected to do so by the senators in this chamber, and with overwhelming confidence I will pass my first vote, Guilty! Guilty of High Treason!” The senate chamber roared! Cheering and hissing. Fredrick had to wipe some spit off his face and hold his nose. “I can smell your bullshit from across the room, I have made no illegal treaties, nor would I risk my nation my father.. and my father’s father created and built from scratch...” he said. “Your father created nothing!” The senate boomed again and the president pounded the gavel to restore order, silencing down the roaring crowd. “Cronus, your investigation has shown much, now, we shall decide to take a vote if we should convict now or wait until further information is given.” The Senate boomed again, overwhelming it seemed. “Convict! Convict Convict!” the gavel was pounded again and the president put his eyes up and upon the Emperor. “Then let us vote! Yay or Nay, starting with Cronus’ Yay…” “Yay!” “Yay!” “Yay!” A minute later, fifty seven more Yays until it came down to the last senator, who gazes his old eyes at Fredrick and blinked. “Yay.” The president looked over at Fredrick and smiled. “And with the first unified vote, unanimously, I conclude, that you, Fredrick von Stien shall be sentenced to death to hang until death, execution will be followed out immediately after trial. It is said, so it shall be done.” The Senate cheered and hissed again, Fredrick sitting back in a small chair and groans, rubbing his temples. “Great….” Magnus stood outside, waiting impatiently in front of the gallows. He had brought only one other with him, the commander of his guard, but as the yelling and cheering grew louder and louder he came to regret that decision. The army may have been in support, but the council clearly had more than a few supporters themselves. Not even the damn NFA had been this dysfunctional, and from what he had heard, Hellhorn had made a little girl cry in a council session before. That man was a dilemma to him. Nobody could disappear so quickly, and yet, he wasn’t well liked enough to have the support of the people. Wherever he was, he must have a considerable amount of wealth. Or luck. Another yell. This time of Fredrick’s father. Then a chant. Cries of convicting him, cries of agreement. He sighed. The grand doors with a sudden thump flew right open, Fredrick collapsing to the ground, with two senatorial guards controlling a tight noose around his neck, unleashing a few kicks and ordering him up. “Up! Up you swine!” Fredrick could only groan and cough , one of the guards tightening the noose around his neck, the other walking, dragging him across the ground while Fredrick tried to get up each time, he was met with the butt of a rifle to keep him down. Around Magnus, there was a tense feeling, a slight humming. A Legionnaire humvee was coming up from behind, one of the newer models, with a soft black-grey color. The presence all around was tense, the skies had a soft grey, spring showers approaching, but it was clear there were plenty of people out watching, police forces around had set up checkpoints around to keep people from getting too close to the execution, the only people let through are those who were either labeled ‘essential’ or ‘family’. A few riot-control cars were even out and prepared should the need arise, but most everyone there was simply to watch, grey faces all around, most grim, most unforgiving. Each blank stare had a small amount of justice in their eyes. Past the checkpoints, stopping close behind Magnus, eight men come out of it, one with a rolled-up paper in his hands and was obviously an officer, or rather a ‘Centurion’ of the legion, even having a honor-blade to his side, similar to that Blackwatch used during the civil war, a sharp dark black. The others line up with him, each man holding a rifle, pointed to the ground, each silent and looking up at Fredrick, and back over at the line of Palace guards, there was a moment of silence while Fredrick was dragged over to the gallows before the officer spoke. “We are here to take and transport the Emperor to a Military Tribunal..” The Captain of the guard snickered, and glared down at him, clenching his own rifle. The officer walked forward and held up the paper, stamped by a general, the Legion’s seal easily seen across the top, the man grabbed it and read over it silently… “You will release the Emperor to us…” The officer orders with a bland voice, having a hint of a demanding command. The guard captain looked up and over at them, his men aim their rifles down at the group while the soldiers aim up at them, the officer pulling a magnum out of his holster and aiming up at the captain. “Can’t do that, order by the senate.” Fredrick was being hauled up the splintered wooden steps of the gallows, where his noose was tightened again and tightened around the post, the executioners making him stand on a trap-door, binding his hands up he looks out to the crowd and blinks for a moment, pride in his stance. Magnus himself had brought a ceremonial sword, that of his father, and the long line of Ulfberts that had preceded him. Although he was sure his father had multiple copies in their youth, now there was only one: His. His heart was racing, he had never planned for this sort of backlash from the palace guard. But now was not the time for fear, or surprise. Now was the time for action. He unsheathed his blade, and pointed it menacingly at the captain of the guard. His own commander retrieved a shotgun from his back, and aimed it at them from the hip, joining the legionnaires. Magnus shook his head slightly, smirking, not letting his true emotions show. His voice radiated authority. “Leave!” The guard captain raised his pistol towards Magnus, and Fredrick glared over. “Just what the hell do you all think you are doing? This New Republic is Fragile enough! Stand down! The last thing we all need is fighting of brother against brother! Family tearing at family!”One of the other palace guards glanced on over at Fredrick and lowered his gun, and the others followed in suit, even the soldiers down below. The Guard captain groaned and waved off the executioners. “Let them have him, if he’s judged this guilty that fast then they will do the same.” Magnus shoved past the palace guards, sword in hand, and up onto the gallows, severing the rope with one swift blow. He pulled off the noose, and sheathed his blade, ushering Fredrick along back to the legionnaires. “Fuck… fuck, fucking hurts, I owe ya one Mag.” The Guards all ran back to the Senatorial building, the alarm called over the coms for preparation for a riot. Magnus looked over at Fredrick, motioning to his commander. “Not now.”The officer opened the Humvee’s door for the Emperor and his Friend and they all piled in. Once all inside the officer twirled his finger in the air. The crowds began to murmur and parts of the groups began to throw rocks and bricks out, advancing past the barricades. The Riot Squads Began to fill the streets and formed walls of Shields, aiming shotguns down range into the crowds as they advanced. Lethal force was authorized should they attempt to advance upon the Senatorial Building. “To the Palace.” They drove off, Fredrick’s eyes glued to the windows when the first Molotov was thrown into the lines, along with a flurry of gunfire, no doubt there were dead and wounded among the ‘rioters’ now, and this worried Fredrick more than anything, well, almost more than anything. “I’m sure Ava and little Juliana and Valeria are fine…” Magnus brushed his long hair out from in front of his face. “I’m sure they are. Damn Artstotszkans probably already arrived. We need to-” The radio blared, interrupting Magnus’ reply. “This is Sval of Magnus’ guard. Requesting backup at the palace! Code 2102!” Magnus looked up immediately, glancing to one of the guards. “What the hell is a Code 2102?” His own commander sighed, opening the breech on his shotgun to check that it was loaded. “Gunfire.” Royal Palace, Vandinium, 12:00 AM, Day 0 --------------------------------------------------------------------- Ava sighed, looking towards the Artstotszkans. “And, how, exactly, would us giving you this land possibly benefit us?” Her half-grey, half bright green eyes glared at them. She was wearing a long, flowing red dress befitting of an empress. Isabella paused for a second, before replying. “This deal is a necessary step in building friendly relations between The Artstotszkan Empire and The Republic of Vandinium, as well as preventing an armed conflict over this matter in the future.” Ava looked up, sighing slightly, before regaining her composure. “This isn’t a deal. This is a threat.” She scoffed. ”No, A threat would be marching into the land anyway. This is an attempt to peacefully resolve this longstanding issue.” Ava shook her head. “If you marched in there anyway, it would be war. This is a threat. You’re giving us an unreasonable deal, and using the threat of war to blackmail us into accepting. That's not how we work." Outside the palace gates, hundreds, possibly thousands of spectators crowded around, many had already heard of Frederick's rescue from the gallows, and the crowd was turning angry, almost about to break into a riot. A hundred feet from the palace, several trucks slowly made their way through the crowd. The lead truck finally reached the front gate, the driver side window rolling down as a palace guard approached the vehicle. “Sorry, nobody allowed in today. Palace is on lock down,” the guard said. The driver pulled out a silenced pistol, firing several rounds into the guard’s chest, who immediately collapsed to the ground. Several screams could be heard from the crowd, and the driver floored the gas, smashing through the gate. The other trucks followed, pulling into the front driveway of the palace. A couple dozen armed soldiers emerged from the trucks, their rifles scanning the area for more guards. Commander Gerald Brand, the same man who had assaulted Hlymrek two years prior, got out of one of the trucks, quickly scanning the area himself, before motioning for his men to move up. Elisia walked out of another truck with a proud smirk, no need to hide her face anymore. She turned to the rest to make sure they were following before moving up to the palace walls and mentioning others over, it was time to rappel. She shot up her hook like the others, sweeping over the edge of the roof just barely, getting a nice sturdy base Elisia began to climb with a look of swiftness in her eyes. Her body darted up the five story building within sixty seconds, once over the top she had her pistol ready. There were two guards up top on the roof, having their rifles aimed over at her and fired as soon as they seen her figure, she twitched the moment she felt a bullet hit her square in the chest, going through her and out the other side, she responded, kneeling down, aiming down the sights of her pistol and fired two brisk, clean shots, both guards going down. She looked over the edge and waves her hand down at the others. “Come on!.. too fucking slow…” She cursed under her breath, turning back around and stared at the door, her wound had already slowed in bleeding while she waited for the others to get up. Ava looked at Isabella when the shots rang outside. “We have a problem.” She said, as she stood up and jogged towards the hallway, where the rest of Magnus’ guard was waiting. Quickly pulling out his sidearm, Samuel motioned for Isabella to follow him. Brand and his squad were already at the main gate. He motioned for one of the soldiers to put on a charge, and he retrieved a large, square-shaped satchel from his pack, placing it firmly on the door. He radioed it. “This is Whirlwind, in position. How copy?” he asked. “In position, make sure to keep your men off those bloody-sausages, too fucking fat to climb a fucking wall fast enough!...” She waited for a moment. “Ready?..” Her voice was quieter over the radio, her team over by a skylight, gazing on in, seeing a swarm of ants moving on inside, none of which had taken note of the team up on the skylight quite yet. Her team had prepared their rappelling equipment one last time. “GO!” Her voice screamed over the radio while bullets shred the glass apart and rained down on the Honor-Guard below, scattering, three grenades tossed in dealing with the injured or those who refused to leave, leading a small bloodied mist and torn gore over the expensive hallway while she and her teamed repelled down. She stopped midway and cut her own rope, looking around briskly. Simultaneously, the men near the door had blown the charge, pouring into the great hall and shredding the unsuspecting guards with a hail of lead and gunfire. The guards had barricaded two hallways off with tables and a few sandbags, one side turning to dealing with a breach in their skylight, the others having their guns trained on the door, firing away once it was blown apart, the traditional bolt-action rifles are outdated but still pack one hell of a bunch, several falling immediately to the gunfire, the mock-barricades splintering from the hail of lead, and only leading to the withdrawal of guards deeper into the palace with several casualties. “Faster… FASTER!...” Elisia’s voice commanded down the halls, going from a soft jog into a run, and finally into a dead sprint leaving her entire squad fifty yards behind her straining to catch up, the beads of sweat flowed down her face, twitching just slightly feeling a bullet whiz past her ear, lightly nicking the damned thing. She aimed her pistol up, her face a pained from the wound in her chest. Five shots echoed down the hallway, five thumps echoed back. Elisia continued her sprint, jumping over the pile of bodies and an overturned table, landing like a cat. Her eyes shot down another longer hallway, seeing two Kitari… diplomats.. ripe to target… She swiveled around again, feeling the wound burn and ooze as she sprinted down the hall with all the power she had in her legs and two rounds she had in her pistol. One Kitari turned to her, squaring around, raising his pistol and fired rounds at her, she had no time to count, only to act. The sound of Gunfire rained down the hallway like a wonderful chime of music to her ears, the pain in her chest burning a hole in her chest. She reached mere feet away from the two Kitari, and already Elisia could see who they are, knowing where they came from, what rank, what position along the royal throne and who was more dangerous. With all the power in her body she jumped up, continuing the momentum through her heel forcing Isabella’s skull into a solid marble pillar next to her. Elisia’s pistol was already raised, aiming it up towards the super soldier’s head and pulled the trigger hearing a faint crunch she jumped back and landed back onto her feet, skidding across the floor just slightly, and standing back up like a cat, blood streaked down her uniform and dripped along the floor now, the wound must be bigger than she thought. Elisia raised her pistol again and fired it one last time into Samuel's Chest… “Pitiful…. Blackwatch can make better soldiers than this pitiful heap of garbage…” She held up her hand and spoke into her mic. “Double-time to your objectives… I have two unknown Kitari down.” She leans over and focuses her headset on the bodies before turning down the hallway after knowing she got a good look, running down it leaving a trail of dripping blood. Magnus and Fredrick entered the hall, the head of the guard kicking open the gates. “This way!” he said quietly, glancing to Fredrick as he noticed a figure standing around a pool of blood. He lowered his voice. “Divert to the main hall. I need to get our families safe, you worry about the soldiers.” he said as he closed the large door behind him, glancing once again at the figure, then down at the bodies at their feet. The Artstotszkan diplomats. This was much worse than he had anticipated. The figure seemed to be talking into their helmet microphone. The soldier broke into a run. He took his chance, beginning to creep up slowly. He inched up carefully, managing to stick to the pillars, before stepping on a discarded sword, the clank echoing through the large hall. “Shit…” he mouthed, before glancing over at the figure. The figure turned her head down, reacting to the clank, turning, scanning the room for a split second, seeing the man, Magnus, and the suits of armor along the pillars, each with halberds in their armored hands made of real blackened Skyian steel. The wound grinded inside of her again, long strands of blood dripped down her uniform like a thick slop. Elisia twirled back around swinging the blackened greataxe towards Magnus with near-inhuman speed. He dodged the swing swiftly, the disturbed air from the swing brushing his face, and waited for her to attack again, remembering the frequent sparring sessions he had been having with the captain of his guard. She swung another time, and he parried, his blade bluntly striking the side of the halberd and brushing it aside. He quickly used the opening to guide his leg into her abdomen, kicking her back a few inches as he brought his arm back for a second swing. He let the sword come down with all of the force in his body, and Elisia quickly brought up the hilt of the old halberd up to her chest. Osmium met steel, and and there was a clear victory. His sword had cut straight through the halberd like a knife through hot butter. Now was his chance. He charged up another swing, only to be swiftly forced back by Elisia, his back pressing hard into a nearby pillar. Elisia raised her fist, wincing from the chest wound, before propelling it towards Magnus’ skull. He swiftly moved his neck out of the way, her fist cracking the intricate painted marble of the pillar. She followed it up quickly with the front end of the halberd, catching him slightly on the side of his chest. He winced and fell to the ground as Elisia raised up the halberd again for the final blow. But now he saw an even bigger opportunity in her sluggish movements. He swept her legs out from under her with his foot, before rolling out of the way and staggering, delivering another kick to her calf before receiving a foreswing with the end of the discarded halberd into his arm, staggering him back and making him fall to the ground as Elisia slowly stood up again. One wall away, a new firefight was developing as Magnus’ guard and some of Fredrick’s army squads entered the throne room, distracting the Altic force from attacking the entrenched royal guard towards dealing with the new foe. Brand took cover behind the throne, his radio buzzing slightly. “Werner, where the FUCK are you? We need your squad, NOW!” He had told Narheim that Werner wasn’t up to par for an operation like this, despite his musings about their mutual comradery. The radio buzzed back “This is Dragontail, tail rotor’s out! Coming in---” the voice fizzled away suddenly, an explosion outside echoing through the hall. Moments later, the burning husk of what had been a stealth helicopter hit the palace wall, slightly puncturing it and covering the whole room in dust and collapsing a piler. “Fuck!” He yelled out, getting out from a piler and returning fire at the squad. He saw the captain of Magnus’ guard. A secondary target, but a target nevertheless. He opened fire, striking him once in the head, and making him crumple to the ground. The small victory wasn’t effecting the outcome of the firefight, and after a few brief moments, his squad threw down two flashbangs, blinding the defenders as hunkered down a machinegun nest by the throne, hoping to hold the line and defend the crown which sat on the throne itself. Magnus jumped to his feet, and elbowed Elisia in the chest strongly, making her fall to the ground from the pain and turning his elbow numb. He followed it up with a strike from the hilt of his sword to her nose, breaking it, before kicking her in the abdomen again. He grabbed his side wound, wiping away some of the blood. Elisia was numb by now, but that had only enraged her. She jumped up again, staggering only briefly, before looking back at Magnus, assessing his injuries. He was doing the same, wiping his long hair out of his face and slowly fidgeting with his sword in his hand as he kicked the discarded end of the halberd away. He let out a yell, charging at her, and she did the same. Ava barely had time to think before a shotgun blast blew through the door just behind her, silencing the guardsman guarding her as she began to sprint down the hall towards the royal bedroom. She needed to keep her children safe, and that was all she could think of at the moment. Another blast came from behind her, all of the pellets missing her completely but still sending a burst of adrenaline through her body. She felt lightheaded, and then she was on the ground, as the soldier chasing her tackled her to the ground and put the shotgun up to her face. Out of the corner of Ava’s eye she could see a rush of thin black, along with the sound of scurrying thomps against the marble flooring. Fredrick had charged on over with his black rapier and kicked over the shotgun, causing it to go off and missing Ava entirely but still blowing one of her eardrums out, he brought up his rapier and stabbed it in the soldier, pulled out and stabbed again.. over and over, Brand grabbed for his pistol after the seventh stab; he managed to bring the pistol up to his hip and fire it into Fredrick’s chest. Fredrick only winced as he sliced down at Brand’s hand, cutting straight through, the blade lightly vibrating as it clashed and sliced bone. He grasped the nub and sliced the blade side as hard as he could, bringing the blade straight through his chest, cutting a spinal vertebra and continued on through, only getting stuck into his liver. The blade was recalled out as the blood and gore spilled down onto the floor. Brand stood for a moment longer to feel his entire lower body go numb and feeling his chest cavity empty and to see Fredrick’s blue eyes. “S-Signal Lost” The last words were almost a whisper spoken by Brand before Fredrick brought his blade back up, under his chin and thrusted through his skull, the vibrating blade inside acting almost like a blender to the brain right as it was pulled back out and the Emperor stood back to allow the corpse to fall to the ground He turned back to Ava and began to jog, only to slip and fall on the growing puddle of gore. He landed on his knees with a grunt but looked on over, quickly crawling over. “Ava.. are you ok?..” The blood already was seeping through his uniform. Ava, let go of her ear, still slightly dizzy. “Gods above. Fuck. Fuck. You’re bleeding!” She pointed to him. He proceeded to look down and offer a reassuring smile. “It’s only a flesh-wound, no need to worry love.” He reached over and brought her up slowly to her feet, and carefully before turning to look back at the body, exposing a large exit wound leaving massive red streaks down his back. “This guy gave me a headache. Come, let’s get you to… to... the kids…” Her eyes grew wide at the blood. “Oh my fucking gods! We need to get you and the kids the fuck out of the castle. Where are they?” she asked. “In… should be in the bedroom closet, and I told you dear, it’s a palace” he said. She shook her head. “Palace, castle, fuck if it matters now, let’s go before more of them come.” Fredrick nodded and turned down the hallway and jogged along, careful not to step in the puddle of blood again, he was already losing plenty of blood. When they entered the majesty (as fuck) room the closet doors were askewed just lightly and Fredrick stumbled on in, calling out with his voice just loud enough to be kept within the room. “Rose! Valeria!” Rose glanced out of the closet, soft weeping heard from within it, only armed with a gilded fork she looked up at her father, dropped it and ran on over, hugging Fredrick’s leg. Fredrick scooped up the child into his arms, as big as she was, and he looked on into the closet, seeing little Valeria crying to herself from all the gunfire. “Ava, get Valeria, we have to go.” He backed out and walked over to the door as Ava went to go pick up Valeria, looking on out, listening for anymore clamoring of boots, only hearing gunshots ring off further into the bowels of the palace. He looked on out and lets out a sigh. “We are going to the family catacombs, you know where it is and how dangerous it is to get there, but if we can get there it will be fine…” He began to swoon for a moment but held his composure, the loss of blood already making him light-headed. “Ahh… should be some medical stuff in there too , alright?” Magnus and Elisia sprinted towards each other, and she raised the halberd above her head as he neared, bringing it down just in time for the spike to hit his shoulder, bring him to the ground, while his heavy sword hit her plate carrier, cracking the ceramic plates encased within. The white shoulder pads of his uniform were turning crimson. She turned around, walking behind him. “Pathetic.” she said as he began to struggle to his feet again. She raised the halberd one more time, aiming for his neck, but not noticing him swinging his sword sideways, towards her left leg. He hit her knee, breaking it and sending blood gushing out of her uniform. She collapsed, dropping the halberd, and as he staggered, he saw an opportunity. She reached for the halberd, picking it up as Magnus limped towards her from behind. He raised his sword, and her hand grasped the scarred metal hilt. But it was too late. He brought his sword down with all of his remaining weight in a sideways two-handed swing, catching her arm above the elbow near the shoulder and severing it, before continuing into her torso, digging into her ribcage. The sheer force of the swing sent him clambering towards the ground, dropping his sword weakly as he exhaled, finally safe, as his vision faded from blood loss. Flowers bloomed along the statues of the fallen, Elise, and Treven. Fredrick tried to keep his eyes low to avoid looking up, going between the statues and down old stone stairs, the air changing from a small warmth into a colder air. His eyes watered for a moment, the wounds of losing those whom he loved still very will open. He looked down in the deep nordic-like cavern of ancestral burial. He led them across slowly, his skin becoming paler and paler with every moment, his children’s eyes looking all around, curious at the place. Fredrick took a hard right down a more modern-looking hall into a bathroom, pointing up at a heavy lead-cased box on the wall that had a red cross across it, a older styled medical box. He sat down on a older stone bench and held at his stomach in pain.. “Daddy, are you ok?..” Rose’s sweet voice asked with all its innocence. “I’m fine.” He spoke. “Just stay here.” Ava got down behind him and opened the kit, searching around for some medical tools and recalling her high school health class. She poured disinfectant over his wound, wiped away the blood, and began bandaging it. She stood up, helping him up slowly with her, and continued to head down the hallway. She looked back to her children. “Stay close.” They made their way out, moving quickly and briskly down the halls while the firefights continued through the palace. Fredrick’s wounds were worsening as he moved along, the blood dripped from his soaked cloths and his movement is more restricted. Fredrick turned down a shorter hallway and paused at a door glancing out at the garden that seemed untouched from conflict. His eyes darted around the area again before putting Rose down and he looks down at her. “Stay here for a minute hun..” “Dad-” “Stay.” He walked out and looked at the buildings around, waiting for a piercing sound of a rifle which never came, after a few moments he points along the garden where two statues stood twenty feet high each. “Come on.. not too far now..” He jogged on over back to Rose and takes her hand and moved as fast as she could move over by the statues, both depicting Treven and Elise holding hands above their heads almost in victory. Fredrick refused to even look at them, and he moved down the steps into the crypt. The Imperial Vandiniumite architecture and styles immediately ceased to be and a more Altic type catacombs opened up. “Old.. governors of the colonies and Emperors lay here.. along with…” He didn’t need to finish his sentence, Ava would know who he is mentioning under his breath. He lead them around over to a newer looking area, but still having a 50-year old feel to it, restrooms. He entered and sat down on a stone bench that was set inside and he flicked up a old switch, the lights glittering before turning on showing a light layer of dust over everything including a large lead case along the wall which had a red cross on it. Fredrick laid on his back in the bench and held a hand over his wound and let out a sigh, gritting his teeth, it was bandaged the best it could but it was still very well bleeding. She took the kit, opening the metal lid and using up the rotten bandages to the best of her ability to bandage him. “I hope that holds.” she said, glancing behind her to make sure Valeria and Rose were alright. Fredrick smiled up at her the whole time but by the time she was finished he was snoring softly. Valeria was sitting on her rear while Rose wandered out into the catacombs, looking around and humming, seeing a empty spot along the wall and blinked, a bed had been set there it seemed along with some flowers and she smiled, leaning over and taking the flowers and sat along the wall, slowly laying down in the sort of stone bed and sniffed at the flowers and sneezed… Keldaar, Hawkwick, 1:45 AM, Day 1 --------------------------------------------------------------------- The dark pickup truck rolled up into the lot and parked neatly on the curb of the road. Wil got out swiftly, closing the door lightly before locking the car with a light beep. 231 Freedom Way. This was supposed to be the place. It was an old apartment building, one of many in the city, and this set of them seemed to be untouched by wars. An unsurprising sight in the relatively isolated Keldaar, but nevertheless remarkable. He went up to the apartment’s lobby and entered, surprised by the lack of an intercom to let him in. He began climbing the stairs. Floor three. He could already hear some sort of music coming from the room. This could be a long night. He hoped he didn’t get the wrong apartment. He motioned to press the doorbell, only to find a gaping hole taking the place it was normally at. Instead he knocked. Nothing. The music was still going on. He knocked again, louder. This time the door opened, a lady behind it. Music drowned out any thoughts he was having. A party. How fitting. He looked back at the lady. She was wearing light clothing, with thick glasses framing her face. A tattoo of a dragon with it’s wings spread coiled around her upper right arm; her hair had been partially dyed a medium green. The rest of it was still a hazy brown, and her eyes were still the same grey. Wil raised an eyebrow. “Evelyn?” Her eyes went wide. After all, he looked different these days too. She looked him over for a split second, then shoved him against the hallway wall, the door closing behind her, and drowning out the music. “What the hell?” her voice echoed through the hallway. “Why are you here?” She asked, peering around the hallway for anyone watching. He blinked. “For you.” She let go of him, and shook her head, looking visibly calmer. “It’s been two years. I’m done with that life, and I’m done with the NFA. I’m 20. I need to go to college. I need to live.” He peered around the dilapidated hallway. “Is this living?” She sighed. “Yes, yes it is.” She shoved him back slightly. “Now go.” Wil closed his eyes momentarily. This wasn’t part of the plan. “Evelyn, you know I can’t do that.” She took a step back, clearly looking uneasy. “You wouldn’t…” He took a step forward. “Hellhorn needs you...we need you. What do I tell him?” She took another step back, putting her hand on the door handle. “Tell him to go fuck himself!” He took another step. She peered at his pockets, then back at his face. “Stay away! Wil, please!” He sighed deeply. “E.V., we all have to make sacrifices. If we want Hawkwick to be right again, then you have to come with me.” She took another step back, her hand still on the handle. “Jory’s a dumb fucking idiot, and you’re a dumb fucking idiot if you believe him, Wil. Leave me alone.” She opened the door, and headed back inside, slamming it and locking it behind her. He turned around, disappointed, and went to the ground floor, pulling out his phone and dialing a number as he walked. A voice answered. “Omega. This is Alpha. Sigma’s, uh, a no-go. She’s reluctant.” The voice on the other end was not amused. “Fuck, Alpha. We need her. Are you armed?” He was. He carried a modernized revolver in a concealed carry holster. You could never be too careful. “Don’t think about it. There’s other ways. Other people we can call on.” The voice scoffed. “I want her.” He shook his head slightly at the notion of holding up a house party with a gun to get to her. “Look, Hellhorn, we can’t do this. She’s not up for it.” The voice sighed. “Fucking hell, Alpha. Codenames! Code. Names. You know as well as I do that the carriers are monitored. Dump the phone. And hope that they don’t find out who the hell she is.” he hung up, sighing loudly, as he removed the SD card and tossed his phone down a nearby drain. Blackhorn Command, Hawkwick, 1:54 AM, Day 1 --------------------------------------------------------------------- “I should have fucking known.” Narheim said sternly to Markus when his face materialized on the large display. “Why in the hell would you launch the damn attack without me? Now I have signal loss, Brand and Elisia aren’t fucking responding, Werner’s dead, and that Johannes you were so keen on trusting seems to be refusing to speak to us.” He sighed. Markus stared back with a serious tone, “Shit,” he said under his breath. “We had to move before we lost the chance. The chaos surrounding Frederick’s trial was the perfect chance and we couldn’t let it slip through our fingers. Keep trying to contact Elisia until we figure out the situation on the ground.” he paused for a moment. “In the meantime, contact the Xelghastians, tell them to be on standby and ready to go as soon as the palace team is extracted.” Narheim shook his head. “You think I haven’t? Her vitals stopped reporting. I don’t know what the hell happened to her...but it can’t be good. Her luck had to run out some time.” Markus stared blankly at the screen for a moment, “If the whole team is unresponsive there must be an explanation, there’s no way they could all drop off the radar like that. Maybe they are jamming our signal or something. If it comes down to it, we move forward with the invasion and hope we can get there in time.” Narheim shook his head quickly. “Jamming our signal? We dropped two teams into one of the most secure areas in all of Vandinium during a massive riot with more media coverage than the damn airport shooting, expecting them to assassinate the Emperor of Vandinium, his wife, and her Hawkwickan twin brother, who’s also best friends with the emperor, and we dropped them in there with minimal support and tangible backup.” Markus nodded, “Then send them backup. We have hundreds of thousands of troops poised to invade. Send them in.” Narheim glanced to the war map, and then back to Markus. “You want to...invade? Now? We’re weeks too early.” Markus shrugged and held his hands up, “Well what am I supposed to do? Let my wife get butchered? We need to move...now.” Narheim sighed. “As you wish.” He held up a hand, and the image fizzled as the horns began blaring through the facility. |
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| Hawkwick | Jan 21 2016, 09:50 PM Post #2 |
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Co-Keeper
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Royal Palace, Vandinium, 3:13 AM, Day 1 --------------------------------------------------------------------- Magnus felt numb. The world was a haze when he woke up, voices echoing around him. He was on a mat in the throne room, surrounded by bodies. His guard, Fredrick’s guard. The attackers. He turned his head, attempting to get a better look at their unmarked black uniforms, now torn and reddened. Words distracted him. Shuffling. He turned around, seeing medics standing around the female Kitari diplomat, lying on mats some ways down, with the Bodyguard standing by, closely watching the medic’s progress. He hadn’t expected them to live, frankly, after seeing the massive pool of blood around them, and he was even more surprised to see the bodyguard already up and about unaided. Now that didn’t matter. He looked down, examining the bandages covering his side and shoulder. He noticed his sword laying next to him. That damn ancestral cleaver had saved his life. He staggered to his feet, and almost immediately, a call echoed through the hall. One of his royal guards jogged towards him, covered in belts of ammunition and holding a light machine gun, a gash across his cheek. “My lord!” he said, coming up to him and bowing slightly. Magnus sighed. “Rory, you’re alive! Where’s Mallorie?” he asked, his heart dropping after seeing the huge amount of bodies. He hoped that she wasn’t one of them. Rory glanced towards the bodies. “I...I don’t know, sir.” Down the hall the light thump of boots could be heard echoing through the halls, rushing closer to the throne room. Mallorie appeared, as soon as she caught sight of Magnus, her eyes teared up and she sprinted at him as fast as she could. She ran into his arms, hugging him tightly as he groaned slightly from his wounds. “I thought you were dead…” she said. Taken aback by her sudden appearance, he called out to her, his face breaking into a grin. “Mal!” He paused, hugging her tightly for a moment. “Are you alright?” She leaned back looking into his eyes, “I’m fine. When the shooting started, some guards rushed me to a safe room with some others.” she paused, staring at the dead and wounded. “What the hell happened? Who did this?” He shook his head. "Fuck if anyone here knows. That bitch that did this to me, she's not...normal. We have to ask Fredri-" He paused, looking around the throne room. Rory was examining bodies now. For clues. Magnus called out to him. "Rory! Where the fuck's the Emperor?" He looked back at him again. "I...I don't know, sir." He said. Magnus sighed. Another guardsman called out to him, this one not one of his. “We’ve found the Emperor and his family!” He let out a sigh of relief. Ava and Fredrick were safe. Elisa’s eyes slowly opened, bound to a medical mattress, her eyes shifting around before falling on Magnus. “It won’t matter. Union forces will sweep through soon enough…and you, your love, your guard, the emperor, and his family will all end up in a shallow grave…” She leans back, having a look on her face as she was about to vomit but holds it down, fainting again. Magnus looked to her, and then to Mal. “The Union?” Keldaar, Hawkwick, 7:21 AM, Day 1 --------------------------------------------------------------------- Evelyn Jensen woke up on her couch, finding her entire apartment trashed. Her head was throbbing, and she knew she’d gone overboard with the drinks. She sat up on her bed with a groan, before going into the bathroom to see how she looked, and to hopefully find something to dull the pain. When she saw the mirror, she was pleasantly surprised. Her hair wasn’t ruffled, even if her eyes looked like they could have used twelve more hours of sleep. She opened the drawer, searching for some painkillers. Nothing. Sighing, she put a coat and some shoes on and headed out. The pharmacy was close enough, and she wouldn’t have to make this trip again for a long time. She left her apartment and locked it, heading down the stairs, and passing by one of her slumbering neighbors, a party guest of hers who had clearly had too much to drink himself, on the way down. She opened the front door to the building and swiveled left, heading down the street to the corner, where she waited at the stop light briefly, before speed walking across the crosswalk, and heading into the first building on her left. The door opened with a jingle. As she entered the store, a small white van pulled up outside. Two men, both dressed in casual clothing, exited the van and walked toward the door. Evelyn looked up at the pharmacist. “Ibuprofen.” She said, and pointed to one of the shelves behind him, at a modestly priced box of painkillers. Another jingle, more visitors. One of the men who had just entered approached her, the other standing a couple feet behind him, “Evelyn Jensen?” he asked. Evelyn’s eyes widened, and she turned around. Since she moved here, she’d told people to call her Anna, after her mother. Only a few people knew who she really was. “Y-yes?” She asked. The man glanced at the pharmacist, then back at her, “We’re going to need you to come with us.” he said, flashing an id with ‘DRAGON’ across the top. Evelyn nodded once, looking down. Theories were forming in her head. The most prominent of which she couldn’t remove from her head. Hellhorn. This had to be him. The men waited for her to get her painkillers and then escorted her back outside, one of them opening the van door and climbing in behind her. The other hopped quickly into the driver seat, and the van sped off. They passed Evelyn’s apartment and parked only a block down the street, outside an old, but similar apartment building. The three exited the van, and the agents led her inside, and up a few flights of stairs, before coming up to an unsuspecting apartment door. One of the agents unlocked the door and led her inside. Inside, the room was covered in surveillance equipment. The kitchen counter had stacks of radio equipment and electronics, and there was a large camera on a tripod next to the window. “Take a seat” one of the agents said, gesturing toward a small kitchen table. “We’ll be with you in a minute.” One of the agents went into another room, and the other sat, typing away on a laptop. She looked around, internally horrified at the idea that she was being watched for this long. Soft voices could be heard from the other room, perhaps a third agent. After several silent moments, the door opened and the agent stepped out, with a woman following behind him. She walked over to the table, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Evelyn looked up at her, remaining silent. Now was not the time to talk. The woman pulled a chair out on the other side of the table and sat down. She set a folder down on the table, pulling out several papers. “Ms. Jensen,” she began, “My name is Amelie Wezterberg, director of DRAGON.” she paused, looking up at Evelyn, with a more comforting expression. She could see the tension and worry on Evelyn’s face, or perhaps it was just the young woman’s partying from the night before. Evelyn looked up at her, still silent. She was more than worried. Her palms and her brow were beginning to sweat, now. This could end very badly. “Now, i’ll just cut straight to the point.” Amelie said. “We know you spoke with Wil Ahdoskar last night, and we intercepted a call he made after leaving your building. We think he spoke with Jory Hellhorn.” she paused for a moment, gauging Evelyn’s reaction. Her eyes widened, and she grasped her wrists. “Look...you know my real name. Do you...know who I am? Who I really am?” Amelie leaned closer, “You’re the daughter of Hans Jensen, deceased President of Hawkwick, and you worked for Hellhorn, and the NFA during the war.” Evelyn looked up. Her grey eyes were almost piercing. “I’m done with that life. Or, at least, I thought I was.” Amelie softly smiled at her. “You can be. Listen, Hellhorn is doing everything he can to undermine the Union, and we need to bring him in. That’s where you come in. If you can help us find him and bring him in, we can get you far away from here. Get you an education, a life.” she said. Evelyn looked down again. “How do you know?” she asked. Her thoughts of getting an education were in her mind only. Unless she had left clues… “I’m a friend of Viktor Albrecht. When we started investigating you, I talked to him. I had heard that you helped him during the attack on Hlymrek. He told me all about you.” Evelyn sighed. “I wish I knew something that could help you, I really do. But...wait. Do you know where Hinrich Reinhart is?” Amelie paused in thought for a moment. “Last we heard he was living in northern Wahland, but he’s out of our reach.” Evelyn scratched her head. “Right before the attack on Hlymrek, he...he...had a fight with Hellhorn. They got physical, and he won. I had never seen him so brutal. Reinhart was...like a father to me when I was growing up. My real one was too busy running the country or drinking with the emperor of Vandinium to worry about me. When that brawl happened...I couldn’t take it anymore, so I left that life behind. I just..when I was leaving, I heard Hellhorn yelling at someone. ‘I want one-way tickets to Ortus.’ He said. If he’s going to be somewhere, he’s there. And Reinhart will know his exact location.” Amelie shifted in her seat. “So we find Reinhart then.” She looked at Evelyn, “I know you left it all behind, but I need you to make contact with him. We need someone he trusts.” Evelyn shook her head. “No..no...I can’t do that. I’ve been trying to escape that life for two bloody years.” Amelie sighed, “This is your best chance to. All we need is this one last thing and you can leave it all behind for good. What else will you do? Spend the rest of your days wasting away in some speck of an apartment?” Evelyn shook her head. “I can’t live in this shithole for much longer.” She looked down, and closed her eyes. “Why does it never end?” she said, under her breath. Unknown Location, Vandinium, 8:36 AM, Day 1 --------------------------------------------------------------------- “Why the hell should I!?...” The harsh voice echoed through old, moist, dark ruins, either the echo or the voice itself having the choking of tears in it. Water trickled down an ancient fountain, in an ancient temple, several statues around were incredibly worn out. Blood was around the cold stone floors from here to there, soft dried droplets. Harsh hands rushed into the cold water and splashes it up against a undeserving face, a small gasp followed by heaving and vomiting next to the fountain. Slowly, the figure stood up, stood tall, in dark robes, looking down in her own hands, blood and tears softly settled in them. “Because, sister, you are in pain.” Soft white hands grasp at the dark hands, holding them, a short figure compared to the tall, dark one. The dark figure collapsed to her knees with a knocking noise, which echoed through the ruins, arms wrapping around her, the robes easily see-through, but the woman in it gave off a sense of peace, and order of her own. “It is my life to help others, no matter how damned they are, no matter how forgotten they are, each and every life is redeemable in the eyes of the goddess…” “The goddess!? No deity has ever helped me, I could only be the one to help myself!...” The figure stood tall again and pushed the smaller figure aside and lead her way outside the temple out to a large subterranean city, buried to time, and forgotten, the sounds of sewers and running subways occasionally were heard above. The tall woman had definite head pains, the smaller one keeping to her side, both walked silently, all around them small glows were seen, men and woman in black uniforms, huddled around small, controlled geothermal stoves, what wondrous things the ancients made with their very hands and chisel, the men and women weren’t afraid to show their faces, some sleeping next to each other, most others simply standing around and speaking. The figure walked passed several Arches to a small graveyard, looking over each newly dug pile of rubble,each with a rifle implemented in, with a gas mask and a helmet hung over. “It’s never too late to gain forgiveness, I’m sure in the eyes of the goddess that she will forgive you, and embrace you…” The figure stood silently over the pile of rubble after rubble, each grave only marked by that, and a couple flowers each. She stopped in the middle and turned back to the smaller woman, in the light it was clearer now, the dark tattered cloak around her opening up, showing her fully against the soft glow of a nearby lantern, the purple skin along with tattered general’s clothes, blood staining all across her uniform, her wary purple skin had paled since her earlier days, she refused to even smile, long flowing black hair fall behind her face, concealing her scars, her slitted red eyes blinking down at the woman below her. “Tabitha, you’re killing yourself, you seen it yourself in your own reflection..” “Perhaps it is best if I rotted away among the dung.” “Don’t say that!” The woman moved over to her side and put her hand to her side. “It is not wise to die, wallowing in the past, but to die, knowing you have atoned for it all, each sin committed, forgiven…” “Spoken like a true Aguar.” “I know you don’t enjoy scripture, sister, but the goddess is all around us, she is watching us now, and even now she has her arms around you, look at your life, all your happy moments.. take the evil out of the horrid moments, and tell me, with all the virtues of heart, what would be left.” “What would be left?.. had I not killed?.. Had I stopped my own people.. had I stopped genocide…….” There was silence, the taller woman looking down into her own hands again. “Had I not even joined that damned organization, had I escaped my bondage not seeking revenge against my very sister..” She paused off, and gave a deep thought, the smaller woman smiled a soft smile and rubbed her hand slowly up and down her back. “I will be in the temple, holding a sermon to the faithful, come if you wish, I only want to help you.” Her hand had moved down the long skinny, dark-purple hand and given it a caring squeeze, which only gave way to more silence from the woman. Her hand let go and began to walk back, a purple tail twitching back and forth as she walked, leaving the figure to her thoughts among the old Drakatari ruins, silent dripping heard all around like a broken pumping heart. A stout breath was let out by her, and she craned over a small grave and finally let out a wave of tears, shaking and falling to her knees, clenching to the small grave as if it was her own. “What world would truly forgive me?..” “When does it end?...” Her tears soaked her face, down her arms and the grave to the ground. She takes a deep breath in and slowly lets it out. “Will it ever end?...” |
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| Hawkwick | Jan 21 2016, 09:51 PM Post #3 |
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Co-Keeper
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Day 1, 13:02 , Solarmania Presidential Residence. A creamy white envelope had just streamed out of the pneumatic dispatch system onto President Marcos Deanalia's kitchen bench, while he was accessing his favorite almond milk (he was lactose intolerant and hated lactose free milk), on the envelope the words "URGENT DELIVERY". Marcos Deanalia was settling down to his almond milk when his assistant A.I. presented an incoming video call and the contents of the package, of which the latest AIRELINT (airborne electronic intelligence) report was enclosed, with several mentions of the nation named Vandinium, of which the Solarmania Aerial Armed Corps had little experience operating near and had lost several aircraft during operations, all from impact with a mountain range. The reading of the report brought a sigh of relief from President Marcos Deanalia, the relief that no one had died on recon flights this week, with a gasp of surprise as radio communications intercepted seemed to signal that an invasion was going on. Hurriedly, he picked up his hot-line to Naval Command and started with the words " What assets do we have in the area around Vandinium?" This was instantly answered by Chief Admiral Argus Travoilis with the reply of "we have the Solaria battle group: 8 ships of the following: the SNS Solaria, our main battleship; the Constantine,one of our full size carriers; two cruisers of the Callandria class, and four destroyers, two of which are high mobility destroyer hovercraft of the Type 1824 class, and two conventional destroyers of the Type 840 class. What orders do you have, sir?" The reply was to have them patrol the Xelghast-Vandinium Gap and not to fire unless fired upon. Day 1, 15:05, SNS Solaria, The Xelghast-Vandinium Gap Admiral Jason Woodhouse, a tall, handsome man of thirty-five, gazed attentively out over the bow, turrets and forward VLS of his battleship, the SNS Solaria. The previous week, the SNS Solaria had sunk a decommissioned aircraft carrier with its railguns in a show of force during sea trials, the fusion reactor performing admirably, in spite of this being the first time such a technology had been fitted to a Solarmanian ship. The onboard A.I. notified Admiral Woodhouse of new orders to patrol his current location, followed by a radar report, with the A.I. reading out the most worrying of the contacts to Admiral Woodhouse. The A.I. said "Contact, Altitude:500 metres and descending at 30 m/s, Bearing: 348 degrees, Relative Velocity: 320 m/s, projected final location: SNS Callandria, WARNING WARNING MISS---- the A.I. was interrupted by a massive blast from the position of the SNS Callandria, turning most of the hull above the waterline into a molten mass of steel, scrap and slag, followed by the near simultaneous detonation of the missile containers on the Callandria, sending debris flying across the Solaria, and bursting the rubber skirt on one of the hovercrafts, forcing it to start to limp back to base. Just then, First Officer Evgeni Lykratos burst in with a tablet computer in his hand and started on the sequence of events that resulted in the sinking of the SNS Callandria, but was interrupted by Admiral Woodhouse who barged Evgeni out of his way as he jogged to the bridge, emitting profanities all the way from his quarters to the upper control deck. "Captain on bridge!" An officer, likely in systems control shouted, adding to the already noisy command centre. "What are your orders, sir?" the chief officer of fire control and AIROPS enquired. "Send out a Wyvern from one of the Type 840s, anti submarine and anti radar load out." Admiral Woodhouse replied. Three minutes later, the the contra-rotating rotors spun into life on the Wyvern, making the flight deck of the DDM-1024 a very noisy place indeed. Little did anyone know that the helicopter's gearbox had a damaged propshaft. As the helicopter lifted off the flight deck of the DDM-1024 and advanced forward over the rear missile hatches of the DDM-1024, a horrendous screeching noise was heard from the helicopter, followed moments later by the carbon fiber propshaft disintegrating and the helicopter crashing to the missile hatches, left stub wing first. The helicopter was mostly intact, but a ruptured missile fuel tank had started burning, and before long, the solid fuel of the hybrid rocket engine had started burning through the missile hatches at 4500 degrees Centigrade, a temperature which no metal could withstand. Moments later, the rocket burnt through a missile casing, and those who witnessed the spectacle saw that all was lost. Down below, in engineering, the last thing that was heard was the hissing of a gas, followed by a massive explosion,blasting a massive hole in the rear of the destroyer, breaking the back of the destroyer, shattering the keel and separating the stern from the rest of the destroyer. Inside the destroyer, Captain Victor Tupelos struggled to his feet, but a few seconds afterwards, the destroyer tilted upwards, followed by the destroyer ahead of the superstructure breaking off and falling into this sea, which worsened the tilt of the the destroyer and prevented Captain Tupelos from ever getting up again. SNS Solaria battlegroup position and missile range Posted Image Note: green line indicates optimal missile range ( less than 15 metres circular error probable), whereas white line indicates maximum missile range. Black dot indicates current position of battlegroup, which is currently facing north. |
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| Hawkwick | Jan 21 2016, 09:51 PM Post #4 |
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Co-Keeper
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UFS Catherine, 200 miles SE of Xelghast, Day 4 2:45 AM ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Commander James Watson peered through the windows of the frigates as the ship was thrown up and down by the waves. The storm raged as was usual during the summer months. The bridge of the ship had been mostly quiet as the routine patrol carried on until a young ensign called out, “Commander, we have several close contacts on radar, bearing 345, approximately 52 km out. Looks like they could be military.” The commander walked over to the station where the ensign was sitting to have a look for himself. On the screen, a half dozen small targets appeared. “Keep the radars on passive while I confirm,” the commander walked over to his seat and made several calls back to Naval Base Keaton, but the storm prevented him from reaching anyone. “Radars go active, I wanna know what’s out there.” He ordered. The ship’s powerful 3D radar went active, sending strong signal out and returning a detailed image of the unidentified targets. “Sir, one is definitely military. Looks like a small Xelghastian carrier.” The Commander picked up his comms again, “Broadcast on all Xelghastian frequencies.” he said. After a few moments one of the bridge officers gave a thumbs up, “This is the UFS Catherine of the United Federation of Wahland. You are in restricted waters. I am ordering you to turn around, or be fired upon. After several moments of silence the commander repeated himself, with still no response. After a third time, scrambled signals came through, and the commander repeated himself a last time. “Sir,” one of the other officers said, “Their radar just pinged us, they’ve gone active.” The commander nodded, “Activate the targeting systems. On standby.” After several more failed calls to base and still no response from the unidentified ships, an officer spoke up once again, the commander ordered, “Target the ships. Two AShM’s each.” After a few moments an officer responded, “Targeted, ready to fire.” The commander nodded, making the final decisions in his head. “Fire.” Instantly several dozen missiles began streaking straight up, one after another, before turning and shooting off into the distance. After about 45 seconds the missiles made impact. “Good hits.” On the 3D radar, the ships began scattering, and several began sinking and listing heavily as they attempted to turn back. “Turn us around, head back for Keaton.” the commander ordered. Parliament Square, Paradizna, Day 4 12:20 PM ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The day had started off normal enough for James Volukunov III, that is until at around noon he was called to the palace for a Meeting of Level 5 importance. While normally he’d be tempted to ignore it, Urgency levels that high were extremely rare; Anna would have his head on a platter if he skipped it to spend more time with his girlfriend ( the beautiful Marquise Danièle Maret ). Typically in meetings held in the deliberation chamber, it would be one or two High Councilors or Parliamentary officials pleading with Himself, Sarah, or even his brother-in-law Samuel to help them oppose the new reforms. These attempts would always fail and he’d end up being lectured for hours by someone who belonged in a history book over the values of “tradition” and “culture”. As he got seated in the deliberation chamber though, he realized that something was very, very Wrong. As his eyes swept across the room, he realized that practically the entire leadership was here; General Vinokurov of the 1st Vipuran Army, Commander Aksamit of the MoI, PM Yakovich, Admiral Bazenhov (who looked as if someone had insulted his mother and punched his daughter right in front of him ), the high councilors, etc. He was shocked to see his relative Viktor I was present here as well; from what he’d heard, all the ancient man did was give advice to Anna, share his war stories, or rant about failing to get Zewa 190 years ago. To see him attend an official meeting, or even leave Vipura was unheard of since the 1940s’. Admiral Bazenhov would walk up to the center of the room, clearing his throat before he started speaking. “ At 0400 Hours today, the Escort Carrier ANS Starwalt was struck by missiles launched from a Wahlsh frigate…” The admiral paused momentarily, and the room erupted into a flurry of conversation, ranging from Disbelief to Anger. The room grew quiet once more as the Admiral continued his report. “... It is unknown the exact reasons for attacking the Starwalt; the ship was not escorting a military convoy, nor was it aware of the sub’s location. The Stalwart managed to limp back to port, however 395 members of her crew were killed and the ship will be unavailable for 3 months, at the least. I have gathered you here today to decide how we will apporach this situation “. And as the admiral took a seat, the whole room exploded into a shouting match. Parliament Square, Paradizna, Day X 1:20 PM ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The former Artstotszkan ambassador to Wahland, Aleena Bazenhov, watched as the Traditionalist idiots and the Modernist Extremists throw the same arguments back and forth at eachother. While she had missed the first 10 minutes or so (damn security checkpoints), she felt that after watching for 50 minutes she both A. Wanted to strangle Councilor Zykev, and B. Finally understood who was on what sides. So far it seemed that One side wanted to wage a war that would so thoroughly decimate Wahland that it would take a century to recover, while the other side wanted to ease tension and force things like reparations. Had she still had her ambassador posting, she’d be inclined to agree with the “Peace” faction, but now…, Now she didn’t know for sure. While a war would be costly, she didn’t doubt that the Artstotszkan Empire could crush the Wahlsh Nation. Heck, if they spun the propaganda right, they’d have enough soldiers signing up that the Altics would be shaking in their boots. And while she loved the Wahlsh side of her heritage, she knew that if Generalissimo Menon did a better job running a country then Danielle Wahl and the rest of the wahlsh government, then perhaps it was time to force a change in management styles... Royal Palace, Vandinium, 9:00 PM, Day 2 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The silence outside the prisoner’s cell was preferable to him, as opposed to the ( comparatively ) bustling halls in the more important parts of the castle. Psycho-Bitch wasn’t active ( She hadn’t been since the interrogation earlier ), and Isabella was still out of it. His wounds from the fight ( more like an ambush ) were only a mild discomfort, and he'd be damned if he let Psycho-Bitch break her way out of here. There was something off about her, and he knew that she had to have come from a lab of some kind ( Maybe an Altic experiment gone wrong? ). Fredrick, who was much more pleasant to be with when he wasn’t rendered an amnesiatic fuckwit by a 16-inch shell, was off doing whatever the hell he does all day. Magnus was gone and Viktor was probably either with one of the 2 of them or worrying about Isabella. He still couldn’t understand why this situation occurred in the first place, if only Lizzy had listened to his advice and not made a deal with the devil. ...but instead, she had chosen to support the Altics. She never did hold a high opinion of Vandinium, which he blamed on all those war stories that she heard from her relative Viktor, about how he almost defeated “the ancient enemy” and whatnot. He knew that the Altics would never keep allies, yet she already believed that Vandinium was doomed to fall, and decided to make friends from behind the safety of Solaria’s walls. he had to do something, and while he normally respected Lizzy’s decisions, he had to call in a favor. New Elecktrozavodsk, Aurora Province, Artstotszka, 9:42 PM, Day 2 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Amid the downpour of rain in the streets of New Elecktro, A lone figure quickly hurried down the street to their destination. This alone was not an unreasonable thing to do, as most ordinary people were warm inside their homes on stormy days such as this night. However, the unknown figure was anything but ordinary. As she hurried her pace toward her apartment, Sasha hoped to get home before her “meeting” with Overlord, and she doubted that trying to contact him on a videocall in the middle of a thunderstorm would be in her best interests. Walking up the door of her apartment, she was careful to make a wide turn to avoid some jerry cans a neighbor had left in the hallway. After finally walking through the door and changing into a new (dry) set of clothing, she quickly pulled out her miraculously non-drenched phone and hurriedly started the call. She briefly thought about hanging up and contacting him tomorrow, though the deep mechanically distorted voice of Overlord cut her off. “[Agent 47, you’re 15 and a half minutes late to this meeting]”. “Sorry Sir, The local weather disrupted my commute”. “[Agent 47, I would expect you to have the foresight to plan for things such as this]”. Hoping to interrupt the usual “Tardy to the meeting” talk, she tried to apologize quickly. “Sorry Sir, it won’t happen again. After several seconds of silence, overlord began again. “[I will save our discussion of your hobby of tardiness for another time. But for now, we have important matters to discuss… Today I received a call from a rather important individual, requesting an evaluation of a potential Alliance with Vandinium. While I know of your personal… “troubles” with Vandinium, some of the reports from Vandinium and the Altic Union are too troubling to ignore. You’re one of the few agents I trust with a mission of this magnitude. Are you able to go on this mission, or will I be forced to find another agent?]” Quickly pushing back a few troubling thoughts, she cleared her throat before responding. “Yes Sir, it will not be a problem. “[Excellent. Tomorrow, you have a flight at 8:00 PM to Solaria City. Once there, you will receive further transport. While you’ll be given a certain amount of authority, you will be required to contact me before taking any kinds of major risks.]”. Several seconds later, he closed the call, leaving her alone with her thoughts, with only the occasional thunder to keep her company. |
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| Hawkwick | Jan 21 2016, 09:51 PM Post #5 |
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Unity Tower, Greater Ciar, Ilian Freehold; Day 4 Madness and Chaos had engulfed the Freehold Parliament, while that was the order of business on any given day in Ilia this was different, even violent and unpredictable. The Unity Tower a massive and imposing building by necessity being the house of not only the Ilian State Council, but also the Freehold Parliament the largest of the three Ilian Parliaments standing at Nine Hundred and Ninety members. The current docket up for vote only had one issue for vote, but an issue that would change the face of Alliance Politics for at least the next decade. Due to the increased hostilities north, the unrest among the northern ethnic groups and fear that fighting could spill over the Vandinium border and into the Freehold Capital of Ciar. Earlier this morning Representative Yunel Ilem of the State of Dacor. This proposal was to reinstall President Zeon as the Grand Protector of the Freehold Unified Guardian Force and for the duration of his term give the office of the President enhanced purview over the deployment of the Freehold Army, Airforce and Navy . The Parliamentary Chambers had by the time the formal debate period had come into effect had the Chamber a three story high circular room, hollowed out in the middle with three tiers of seating had erupted into violence with the younger opposition and coalition members on the bottom tier occasionally breaking out into fist fights. Rep. Yunel an elderly Anheran man of eighty years old assigned normally to the second tier was uncommonly seated up on the top tier next to the LawWeaver of the Parliament, and President of the Freehold. Due to the procedure that the primary sponsor of a bill is the first to speak and call for a vote. Yunel, a frail man was brought to the Speaker’s Podium with help from the Speaker and President Zeon. Yunel struggled to steady himself at the podium before he pushed the silence button dimming the lights and locking the door. “My colleagues, I urge you to listen to my words.” The Representative said as he appeared on the monitors on the walls and voting stations throughout the chamber. “The Freehold is weak, or at least that is what our people are saying. We need to show them that the Freehold has and will always protect them. Freehold trade routes throughout the Sea of Change and in the waters between the bickering petty northern states and our own system is making it impossible to respond. Our military needs a clear and present commander in such a perilous time. Since President Zeon resigned as Grand Protector of the Alliance we have failed to replace him and to that I say, if we can not find a replacement as grand as Zeon reinstate him and give him the authority to defend our people.” The elderly man took a step back from the podium. "And with that, I motion for a vote to commence immediately and urge all of you to vote to defend the Freehold." As the Speaker helped Yunel back to his seat the monitors throughout the chamber split into three sections, each with a number one for Ayes, another for Nays and a final one for Abstains or Absences. Light returned to the room as screens on the ceilings sprung to life each full of a white light and ready to display the votes of each representative in real time. Within the first 10 minutes a few hundred votes had already flooded the chamber as the ceiling turns Red and Black for each Aye and Nay. By the hour mark 692 votes had been cast with only 74 opposition votes being cast. The first warning was issued by Speaker due to a lack of votes in a 15 minute period. The first of two warnings needed to call for an accelerated end to the vote a dozen votes poured in before another dry spell. Eventually another bell chimed and a voice came over the chamber’s intercom “Representative Lian Seren of the State of Bonrai and her colleagues Rep. Olenia and Ilenth have sponsored her petition. Voting on an accelerated vote shall begin in 5 minutes and last for a period of 20.” The time elapses and the monitors throughout the chamber shows the ending of the motion. 446 Ayes and 187 Nays, and with the passage of the motion the results of the vote appear on the screen. 855 Ayes 92 Nays 25 Abstains 48 Non-Voting, meeting not only the 75% necessary threshold, but also 85% no repeal threshold, meaning it cannot be put up for repeal for a full 2 years. IANV Seleriana, Second Fleet Carrier Group, 150 Km North of Anheran Coast; 11:15PM CGT Day 4 The end of the day saw a discrete exchange of messages between those in the upper level of the Freehold Guardian Force and the Office of President. The first target of these messages, Admiral Imera of the Second fleet had strategically moved her carrier group north ahead of the vote, expecting it to shave some time off of the orders he was expecting to get. The admiral sets up a series of memos queued up on the ship’s computers to be encrypted and sent out throughout the Freehold Naval Armada.
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| Hawkwick | Jan 21 2016, 09:51 PM Post #6 |
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Co-Keeper
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Unknown, Wahland, 11:00 AM, Day 1 --------------------------------------------------------------------- Hinrich Reinhart loved his steak. He loved everything about it. The hunt, the smell, the sense of reward. Now that he was alone, in the wilderness of the lovely Wahlsh mountains, it was one of the few things that remained unchanged. The food. He took a long bite out of it, chewing it rather loudly as he grabbed the TV remote with his off hand and turned up the news. He dropped his fork when he saw the scrolling headline at the bottom, ‘VANDINIUM INVADED BY THE ALTIC UNION’ He let out a long sigh. The world couldn’t even live a decade without Hawkwick or some version of it throwing itself into a war. But he knew the truth. He saw it on the day that they had slaughtered his friends at that castle. And he saw it again now. People were going to die, again, and he would be sitting in rural Wahland eating a steak and watching the news. He couldn’t let that happen. He took his phone and dialed a number, hoping that it’s owner would still pick up, even after the three years they hadn’t spoken. “Krif voth ahkrin,” he said. A raspy voice echoed back, “Fen kos diinok.” Reinhart let out a grin, one that stayed for a split second only to be interrupted by the sound of a car outside. Another online delivery? This early? Outside it was a rather warm afternoon, but the seemingly permanent snow still covered the ground. The picturesque landscape of northern Wahland would normally be awe striking to most people, but being from Hawkwick and Heimar, Amelie and Evelyn were already very familiar with the snowy terrain. As the door of the cabin opened both women could feel a rush of warm air hit them. Hinrich stopped in his tracks. “Spirits! Evelyn. What in bloody hell are you doing here? And who is this?” He said, gesturing a muscled arm towards Amelie. Evelyn held her tongue, the large majority of her changed appearance not showing behind the hoodie she was wearing. “I...I’ll let her explain.” she said, biting her lip to keep herself from saying anything she didn’t want to say. Amelie reached a hand out to shake Hinrich’s, greeting him with a friendly smile. “Perhaps we could talk inside?” Reinhart hesitated briefly. “Fine.” he said, hanging up his phone silently in his off hand as they entered. He sat down on his sofa, looking over the lady. He knew her face, but he didn’t remember from where. Evelyn’s he knew well, even with the dyed hair and the glasses. It was hard to forget the girl that he had raised, in the absence of her father. “Now, what is it? And more importantly, how did you find me?” Amelie slid off her gloves and pulled out her ID raising it up to show Hinrich, “I’m Amelie Wezterberg, director of DRAGON-” she was interrupted by Reinhart. “Which DRAGON?” Putting her ID away, she responded, “Of the Altic Union. I contacted Evelyn in the hopes of locating Jory Hellhorn. She said you were our best bet, and it wasn’t too hard to find you, so here we are.” Reinhart looked over to Evelyn. “EV…” his voice trailed off. “Why did you involve her?” he asked, looking back at Ameile. “She was almost free...and you threw her right back into the fire.” Evelyn cut him off. “No, wait, Hinrich, it’s not like that. They wanted me. Hellhorn, Wil, that lot. Ameile was simply following a lead. And I told them about you. And how you were supposed to know where he was now.” He nodded slightly, looking down. “Hellhorn’s team are ghosts now. I can’t tell you where he is. But I can tell you where he would be. Where I would go if I was him. Neraklos. The only nation on our planet that seems to share his ideals, even if they’re not as extreme. And he’ll be going after Vokun. After the Union. Hell, even Unbaar.” At hearing Unbaar, Amelie’s mind flashed back to the mall for a moment, she pictured the twelve dead Unbaar operatives. “Which is why it’s my job to stop him. We’ve been trying to track him down basically since the agency was created, and we weren’t getting any leads until Wil showed up in Keldaar. Now we think he’s about to make a move.” Reinhart shook his head. “Make a move? No. He’s already made it.” he reached out towards a stack of newspapers on the lower level of his coffee table and pulled out the top one. ‘NRS Vantarkari found!’ it read, a picture of a wrecked submarine. “Hellhorn is currently sitting on twenty-four nukes. I know this was his work. It’s bloody obvious. Vokun stole the submarine, posing as HNA all those years ago, but never bringing it to port out of fear of international repercussion. Hellhorn has, or at least the NFA had, people inside of Vokun. High-up. They would know. Now Hellhorn knows.” Amelie thought for a moment, “We have contacts in Vokun. We could set up a meeting with Narheim to see what info we can get out of him, but we need someone-” Reinhart interrupted again. “Contacts? Ha! Your bloody supreme commander is his twin. Don’t you see? Hellhorn chose the submarine because he knew there was no way to follow up on it. If you accuse Hellhorn of stealing it, then Vokun’s involvement becomes apparent as well, because Vokun is the only one that can confirm or deny Hellhorn’s involvement at all.” Amelie nodded, “Well we keep this under wraps. Hellhorn is just as much a threat to us as he is to Vokun. Narheim will want to stop him at any cost.” Ameile said. “Both of them.” Reinhart continued. “Listen. Unbaar’s targeted Hawkwickan and Heimarn schools. Send…” he paused. “Send Evelyn to Amstari University, as a high profile student. She is the daughter of a world leader, after all.” Evelyn grinned. “Amstari...spirits, man, I don’t know.” she said. “Yes you do. You’re safest there.” Amelie nodded, “That can certainly be arranged. As for you, Reinhart. You seem to know more about Hellhorn than anyone right now. We could use you. Hellhorn is out there with a couple dozen nukes and he wants vengeance. You know that he needs to be stopped, so help us.” Reinhart seemed uneasy. He shot a glance to Evelyn before returning his gaze to Amelie. “Fine. But I’m not staying. I just want to take that bastard down. After that, I return here. Deal?” She nodded, reaching her hand out to shake on it. “Of course.” RAN Hans Jensen, International Waters near Vandinium, 3:00 PM, Day 1 --------------------------------------------------------------------- “Nothing to report. RAN Hans Jensen is still en-route to Vandinium along with the entire fourth fleet. ETA until first invasion wave: forty minutes. Operation Ascendance is on schedule. End Captain’s log.” Captain Harrison Karivik sat up from the desk, adjusting his uniform and passing onto the bridge. After the usual greeting, he wiped one of the displays away from the window, exposing the supercarrier’s flight deck. “Status report, Commander.” he said, and his commander replied. “We’re due to begin the initial launches of KN-71 fighters shortly. The new avionics are responding well.” he paused. “We haven’t detected the Vandinium fleet on radar yet.” Karivik turned around towards him, away from the window. “Do you think they’re using radar-masking technology?” he asked. The commander replied. “It’s possible that’s true, or it’s possible that they’re hiding their radar through other means. Perhaps the terrain?” he asked, shrugging slightly. “Possible.” the Captain replied, looking out the window again. “Well-” he was interrupted by an Ensign who had run into the bridge. “Captain, sir! We have several unidentified ships reported to the south by air patrols. One fleet seems to be damaged. “Illians?” he asked. “I-I don’t know sir. One of the fleets is certainly theirs. Could be the Wahlsh, sir.” A set of jets took off on the catapults outside. “I don’t want them interfering with our operations. Notify High Command and let me send them both a warning to stay away. And send it for a week. I want to make sure they get it with this weather.” he said as the ensign nodded and he turned to one of the transparent displays and began recording. Message Transmitted “Unknown naval contacts, this is Captain Harrison Karivik of the RAN Hans Jensen. This is a formal warning from the Altic Union. If you interfere with our mission in any way, you will be treated as a threat to the Union and the Union’s security and we will not use discretion.” Royal Palace, Vandinium, 1:00 PM, Day 2 --------------------------------------------------------------------- “I’m not sure, Mal.” Magnus sighed. “A war just started, right on our doorstep. I’m not sure if I want us to...well, to stay or not.” He paused. “Fredrick wants to help me. Help me take back Hawkwick. I say we start. Today.” Mallorie put her hand on his, “What’s the plan?” she said. He looked down. “I...I’ll have to talk it over with Fredrick. And clean up this mess.” he glanced behind him. His newly appointed Head Guardsman was waiting. “My lord. The woman who you fought. She’s regained consciousness again.” he said. Magnus glanced to Mallorie. “Follow me.” he frowned, as he fell in behind his guardsman, who took him to one of the hastily set up infirmaries. Fredrick walked on by talking to a dozen military, financial, and industrial advisors, surrounded by them and talking seemingly non-stop, heading back to the ‘war-room’... The entire place had changed since the initial attack, walls that had been damaged are being reinforced with metal by at least a hundred workers and the dead had been removed, blood still was about on the hallways where the bodies once were. The guardsmen around the palace were more protective, carrying and wearing modern weaponry and armor. Checkpoints were set up with machine-gun nests and the top of the palace was covered by anti-aircraft guns and several more squads of guardsmen. Helicopters flew overhead constantly as the entire country turned and began its Fuatra Wellah or ‘Flash Mobilization’. Magnus moved down the hallway while a squad of soldiers ran on by. By the time they got to the room where ‘she’ was allegedly held, a squad of guardsmen had reinforced it and the officer stopped them from getting any further. “Hey, you can’t go in there…” He shifted his red cap just slightly and rested his hand down on his rifle. Magnus sighed. “Do you know who I am?” he asked, pausing to judge his reaction. The officer tilted an eyebrow curiously for a moment. “The Emperor’s Aide?...” He seemed to almost shift uncomfortably. Magnus’ head guardsman looked him dead in the eye, and even through the polished ceremonial metal helmet, his eyes conveyed all the emotion they needed to. “This man is the High King of Hawkwick. And he’s the man that put that she-bitch in your infirmary in the first place. So I suggest you move.” The corners of Magnus’ mouth turned into a slight smile. The officer was taken back for a moment, another soldier walking over and placing her hand on his shoulder, he turned to look back at her. She nodded for a moment and he sighs, looking back over at Magnus, Mallorie, and their guard before moving out of their way, going over to the door and unlocked it. The door opening with a slight creek. “Go in an’ see for yourself..” The guard went in first, unholstering his pistol, and Magnus followed. “Give me one good reason not to kill you right now.” The guard looked at him, then back at the restrained Elisia. “My lord, I would advise caution, Emperor Fredrick might not agree-” Magnus cut him off. “He might not agree, but he understands. This little Union bitch nearly killed me.” Elisia coughed, looking up at Magnus, spitting in his general direction before introducing a smile all her own, her own face turned a sickly pale with a hint of a light purple tint to it showing her lingering adverse reaction to the Osmium in Magnus’ blade. “Kill me if you wish… it doesn't matter now.. what has been set in motion will not stop. Vandinium. Will. Burn. You will die, or run, either way this wretched city will be turned to ashes and the corpses will pile in the streets to be burned to a cinder.” Her own hate reflecting back into Magnus’ eyes. He glanced to Mallorie. “You wouldn’t do that. Narheim...he wouldn’t want to outdo Blackwatch.” “We are not Blackwatch! I am not with that infernal organization! That damned Vandiniumite blood-soaked organization is not apart of me, and I am not apart of it, what they did to me… What they did to everyone… what we will do will prevent Blackwatch from ever rising again!... We will kill every last Vandiniumite and erase them from-” Magnus unsheathed his blade. “Enough! Killing us won’t stop Blackwatch, you fool! We’re the only people who’ve seen Blackwatch. I saw what they did. Matterhorn saw what they did, hell nearly every person in the north has seen what they’re capable of, and here you are, with your union fuckheads, invading and trying to kill the people with the most experience! Are you going after Cessius too? Or are you bastards lying? Maybe you’re here to end the only two people who have a better birthright to Hawkwick than Markus does. Maybe you want to take out his family too, while you’re at it? Maybe you’re afraid. Afraid of us. Maybe you’re afraid of Markus.” he paused briefly. “My sister’s told me what they did to him, years ago. They tortured him until he didn’t know what the light was. Did you know that? Do you know who’s orders you’re following?” “Markus! I’m following my love’s orders! I’m following my family’s orders.. and I’m following MY orders… Cessius is a target… you’re a fucking target, Fredrick is a target! Everyone is a target and are marked to fucking die!” She screamed with zeal in her eyes, her body quaked slightly before she struggles in her restraints and ends up vomiting on herself from over-exertion. Markus gripped his blade. For the first time in his life, he had the power to choose between life or death. She was helpless like this. She could do nothing to stop him if he killed her. He hesitated, becoming distracted when his guardsman spoke up. “Your love?” he said, pausing. “My lord, this woman fits the description of the king’s wife.” he said. Markus nodded. “I know.” he said, sheathing his blade and looking at the guard. “I want rifles pointed at her 24/7. If she does anything you don’t like, put a bullet in her skull.” he said, looking over to Mallorie (who can maybe be crying by this point) and frowning a bit, before calling down the hallway. “Get me Fredrick!” he said, turning back to Elisia. “Might as well line up your targets. Maybe then you’ll realize that you’ve missed all of them.” Elisia spits “F-Fuck you…” A minute later a figure in a half-rushed general’s outfit pushed passed the group of guards and walks on in. “Just what the hell are you doing!?... leave her alone! Get out of here! I’m preparing to do my own sort of questioning on her without you coming in her and killing her! Do you realize what kind of valuable prize she is?!... She could damn well have the Information that could win this damn war swiftly!” Fredrick came in guns blazing interrupting Markus the entire time.. “I know she tried to kill you, I know she tried to kill everyone… but leave the bitch to me, I have my own means of torture.” Magnus shook his head. “Who do you think I am, Matterhorn? I didn’t have to torture her to know what she knows. We have an important hostage. This is the king’s wife.” he said. “We must not go down to their level, Fredrick. We can’t.” Fredrick looks on up at Magnus almost having the look of disgust. “What do you think I am, some kind of barbarian?... No… I am better than that.. but what I have planned to do.. will get what we need in the end.. I will not lift a finger against her… instead I will offer a helping hand, she will be working with us in the end” He looks on over at Elisia whom seemed to have passed out… “Once I get the rooms ready I will have her transferred, it may take as much as a month to get her to fully talk, but mark my words, she will talk.” Magnus looked taken aback as he put an arm over Mallorie. “Are you bloody mad? Did you catch what she said earlier? Personally, at least, she wants to kill every single person in this nation.” he said, stopping. “I cut off her arm. With my sword. That’s not something you forget.” he said. “Unless...you can make her forget...” Blackhorn Command, Hawkwick, 3:40 PM, Day 1 -------------------------------------------------------------------- “Men and Women of the Royal Altic Army!” Jorik Narheim barked over the microphone. The entire base could hear him. He had no doubts that as he spoke a thousand soldiers ready to lift off were hearing his voice through their ears, or over intercoms. “The dead call out. They want to be avenged.” he said, pausing afterwards. “The dead of Zwickau. But also the dead of Ostwind, and the dead of Karthspire, and the dead of Altberg and New Altberg and Volunruud and every other blasted city that troops from Vandinium have left in their wake. TONIGHT! Is the end of the beginning, and nothing can stop our advance. We are going into Vandinium for one purpose and one purpose only. Eliminate every single threat to the Union. Forever. Every tank and every soldier. Every dangerous emperor and disgraced king. Every man who points a weapon at you. They will be our targets. We go to avenge. And when the ashes cool...we will set up a framework that will ensure the north’s stability for an eternity.” FOB Notte, 2km from Vandinium Border, 3:45 AM, Day 1 --------------------------------------------------------------------- “You heard Overload, Blackbird One. That’s the go order.” The radio buzzed in her ear, and her helicopter’s cockpit lights turned on. Blackbird Two was the gunner in one of the older contraptions used by the Royal Altic Armed Forces. An attack helicopter in a conventional configuration was still the most commonplace Close Air Support implement in use by the army, but Blackbird had a different chopper, one that had considerably more wear and tear than the modernized variants. It didn’t give Blackbird Two comfort, knowing that she had done hours in flight simulators on Blackhorn only to end up flying a variant that was decades older than she had anticipated. She had no training for this. It was all luck from now on. When Blackbird One flew the chopper up from the forward operating base and over the the plains, she pressed her brown eye against the gunner’s scope, the greyscale thermal imaging of the gun camera serving as a substantial contrast to the dark and barely illuminated night. For the first fifteen minutes it was quiet. The radar wasn’t picking up anything. “Watch out for contact, Blackbird. We got troops up near Artstotszka confirming enemy AA capability.” Blackbird One responded to the the radio voice. It was Firefight, the helicopter to their left flank. The newest conventional model. She sighed quietly on the inside of her flight helmet at the radio. “I don’t see anything.” she said, her pilot reporting something similar. “Roger that, Blackbird. Radar’s coming up clean. Wait. We got-yeah. Yeah we got something, grid 20-” the voice cut off briefly, and after what seemed like an eternity, Firefight’s left engine nacelle exploded, having been hit by a man-portable launcher. “Damn!” she heard Blackbird One call out from the cockpit. “Jackdaw, Thrash, Ivy, light them up!” he called out, and she glanced up from the screen to see all of the other helicopters breaking formation and revving their main cannon. She looked back at the screen, turning the camera a bit. She could see them now, coming out of the bushes and scrambling for cover. She aimed and fired the main gun, the thirty millimeter rounds from the rotary cannon of her helicopter turning a whole squad into a butt of smoke. When it cleared, most of them were either on the ground or writhing. The sight, even though barely-detailed thermal view, still made her slightly sick. But it was part of the job now, and it was better them than her. “Contact, bearing 220, enemy helicopter, coming in fast!” Blackbird One called out as he turned the chopper to face the threat. She could hear his helmet beeping as it notified him that they had achieved a lock-on with one of the missiles. The next thing she knew, the missile flew out from the side of the chopper, going straight for the speck in the sky. She could see it through night vision, the huge, heavily armored hulk of a helicopter coming towards her. They were scarier in real life. And louder too. It launched flares, the small white lights illuminating the night sky, before returning fire with it’s substantially larger main gun, hitting one of their winglets and tearing it apart with a horrific sound. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she aimed at the helicopter and fired, the rounds striking it in the center. It kept coming, having shrugged off the rounds like they were firecrackers. She unloaded on the chopper, and Blackbird one did the same with his missile gunpods. When the second bout of ordnance hit, the helicopter went down in a spectacular fireball even larger than the one from earlier. She glanced off to the side. A friendly helicopter, Ivy, it looked like, was on fire, heading towards the ground fast. Another one of the Vandiniumite helicopters was locked in a vicious battle with Jackdaw, which had taken substantially more damage than they had. “Blackbird, need backup!” the radio said, perfectly timed. “Affirmative, moving to interdict, over.” He turned the helicopter around. Blackbird Two was consistently surprised by how absolutely calculated her crewmate was. He never wavered. Never showed fear. Maybe it was his experience with Blackwatch. Maybe it was because he had lost someone at Zwickau. She couldn’t guess these days. Blackbird dipped down, it’s rotors nearly hitting the trees as it moved underneath the aerial battle, before gaining altitude swiftly and swinging around it’s tail, facing the enemy from behind. Jackdaw was beginning to flee. Now was their chance. Blackbird Two put a burst of lead into the helicopter’s engine block, and it caught on fire very quickly, yet stayed in the air for a moment, turning to face towards them and launching everything it had. For a few seconds, it seemed that they were about to be blown up by the sheer density of the gunfire and missiles, but right when the missiles fired, the enemy helicopter dropped out of the sky, it’s engine sputtering, and everything it had fired missed them by inches. Blackbird Two laughed a bit, the close call with death not really feeling like one in the back of her mind. “Good kill, good kill, Blackbird.” she heard Jackdaw’s pilot say over the radio. “Aye, Jackdaw.” Blackbird One replied as it turned to follow Jackdaw and regroup. Jackdaw quickly spurted something out in reply, but it was filled with interference and they couldn’t hear a thing. Thrash, the newest surviving helicopter, fell in behind them. Blackbird One quietly asked her if she had heard it, and when she shook her head, he attempted to contact again. “Jackdaw, repeat last, over.” he said. Another garbled response came back, this one a bit more legible. “What?” Blackbird One replied. She heard the second reply now. “...I said you got enemy anti-air, on your six!” Blackbird One immediately turned the helicopter around, but when Thrash attempted to do the same, they were lit up by a hail of bullets and they fell to the ground in pieces. She could see it now through her goggles. An enemy AA tank, covered in bush camouflage. Her pilot dipped the the helicopter’s nose down and they began cruising next to the trees as they had done before. The tank noticed them. She opened fire, before switching to the ground-to-air missile rack and firing that as well. One of the missiles on the remaining pylon fired, and as it traveled she noticed something coming in return. A hail of anti-air rounds, and two missiles. “Shit!” she called out, and despite the flares that her pilot launched, the rounds him them directly, shattering the cockpit glass and setting their engine ablaze. They dropped towards the ground like a rock, and as the missile obliterated the tank, she looked down, noticing the ground come extremely close. Their main rotor clipped a tree and then Blackbird hit the ground nose-first, sliding along before tumbling repeatedly and hitting a treeline. Five minutes later, she woke up, the fire having inched closer since then. Everything was a haze to her. Her goggles had smashed. Her pilot had just crawled out. “Ugh...fuck, help me out, Karl.” she said weakly, feeling the gash on her cheek drip blood. He quickly turned his head and ripped off his helmet, and then his balaclava, revealing his cropped black hair and beard. “Stay calm.” he said, as he opened the frame of her cockpit and slowly pulled her out. She looked down at her feet. Both were still intact, even if one was bent in an odd direction. “Spirits...’ she whispered as she felt the heat come closer. “The..the gun.” she said, reaching to grab the small submachine gun as she got on the ground. She could hear voices coming out. Blackbird One unholstered his pistol. “Stay down and stay low. Play dead.” She sighed. “No, not you...not like this.” she said, seeing the first bullet hit the side of the helicopter and let out sparks. “They already saw me. Stay down.” he said, before firing the handgun twice. he was hit once by a large bullet in the shoulder. He returned fire again, hitting one in the head, before slowly beginning to walk forward, maybe to draw their attention away from her to buy her time. He moved and fired, his limp shoulder not bogging him down as he was hit directly by four or five shots from a light machine gun. She closed her eyes. There went another one of her friends. She wanted to say something, but all she could do was breathe. Eventually she got an overwhelming urge to close her eyes. She could hear the yelling coming closer and closer. She closed her eyes, and for a while, everything was dark. Unknown, Neraklos, 6:00 AM, Day 5 --------------------------------------------------------------------- The old bunker was a relic of a different time. A time long past, when war plagued the south like it did the north now. When Drasnia had it’s own problems. Now, it was something else entirely. The last safe haven for the last remnant of the last to fall in the war for Hawkwick. Hellhorn sighed, flipping through an e-reader. “Are Wil and Eldridge done with their damn objective yet?” He asked down the old concrete hall, forgetting that the others were on a field mission. “Fuck, right.” he said. Talking to himself. It could always be worse. To him, everything had always seemed so poetic. For a while, to him, he was the destined savior, the one who would guide the people of Hawkwick to the light. Now, he was slowly realizing that it was a load of horse shit. And he cursed himself for not recognizing it sooner. At least he still had the nukes. He brought up his old flip-phone and called Wil. Once he answered, he spoke. “We move on your return. The plan’s changed. It’s Vokun now.” The Drunken Monk, Stafforen, Hawkwick, 11:00 PM, Day 7 --------------------------------------------------------------------- “Dann Ich sage, "Die Party ist vorbei.", und der Bastard auf mich gepinkelt. Haha! Arschgeige.” A great bout of laughter echoed through the bar. “Was passiert als nächstes, Mann?” The soldier paused, taking another sip from his glass. “Der Obersturmfuhrer ihn umgebracht. Mit einen Radiowecker!” With another round of laughter came another round of drinks. “Sehr gut, sehr gut! Rolf! Mehr bier!” The officer called out at the barkeep, looking back to his men. This had been going on for hours. Story after story. The sound of the door opening interrupted one of the soldiers starting another story. Three officers, clearly higher than usual, two wearing the olive uniforms of the army while the one in charge wore the subdued blue-grey uniform of High Command. “Stand easy, Feldwebel.” he said. “But stop the drinking.” The Staff Sergeant obliged, pushing his mug to the other side of the bar, and wiping his mouth, before getting up and saluting clumsily, despite his order. “Marshall. Staff Sergeant Volker Senft reporting. ” The Marshall reached for his pocket and retrieved a rather large handgun, shoving it against the man’s chest and cocking it with an audible click. “Great. Now you’ll listen. Are you aware of the new Union policy on traitors?” The man shook his head. “No? Command has decided to reinstate HARM policy. We shoot them on sight.” He pressed the pistol against the man, shoving him against the bar. “We have credible reports of one of these bastards in your unit. Setting fire to our fuel depot. Do you know why we’re still in Hawkwick, and not on the front lines in Vandinium right now, Feldwebel?” The man shook his head again, this time more quickly. “Nein..no. Sir.” he said audibly. “Because of your traitor.” the Marshall answered. “Now, you are going to tell me where this annoyance is located, or I will put a bullet in your chest for neglect of duty and hindering an investigation.” The Staff Sergeant nodded. “It’s n-not a guy, it’s a lady. Young. She only arrived last week, it didn’t look like she fit the physical requirements.” He paused briefly, noticing one of the men flanking the Marshall switching the safety off his submachine gun. The Marshall’s eyes darted towards the side momentarily, pausing, before returning to Senft. “Her hame, Feldwebel Senft?” He paused, blinking a few times. “Her name is...Go fuck yourself!” he called out, as the Marshall’s guard brought his submachine gun up and aimed it at the other man flanking the Marshall. The Marshall fired his pistol into Senft’s chest, spraying blood all over the bar, before quickly elbowing the man behind him in the face, knocking him to the ground, but not before he managed to press the trigger, unloading fifty rounds into the roof and the second guard. Senft’s men were coming now. The Marshall promptly shot the first two in the chest with his pistol, their bodies dropping like flies, before elbowing one of the men that had arrived behind him and grabbing his uniform with his off-hand, flipping him over his chest in one swift motion. Another came at him with a knife, but in his drunkenness missed the first swing. Before he could even react he found his wrist-broken by a blue-grey blur, the knife dropping from his hand as a bloody pistol got shoved to the back of his head. The Marshall pressed the trigger on his pistol, and nothing but a metallic ping emerged from it. Jammed from the shot into Senft. He flipped the pistol in his hand, holding it by the barrel, before bringing it down towards the drunk soldier. The soldier deflected it clumsily with his elbow, before delivering a strong kick to the Marshall’s knee. The Marshall didn’t budge, and brought the pistol down again, this time onto the man’s head. He followed it up with a kick, rolling over the man onto his back from the force, he cried out in pain. “Her name? WHAT IS IT?” he yelled. The man quickly answered. “Adler! It’s Adler! Just don’t kill me!” The marshal smiled, and cleared the jam on his bloody pistol, before holstering it. Adler. That name had significance within High Command. “I won’t kill you.” he said, pausing momentarily before he stepped on the man’s neck, breaking it with his boot, before continuing onward to the outside of the pub. He reached into his trenchcoat pocket and pulled out a case of cigars, before taking one out and lighting it with the complementary lighter. After a few puffs, he could hear the sirens approaching. He put the case back in his coat, adjusted his command hat, and removed the portable radio from his belt, pressing a button on the side and turning the idle light a bright green. “This is Marshall Falkenrath. I have a name. Over and out.” he released the button on the radio. |
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| Hawkwick | Jan 21 2016, 09:51 PM Post #7 |
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Co-Keeper
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Felskrieth Bar, Vandinium, 12:45 AM, Day 1 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “You’re my angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun…” There were a couple of chuckles around the bar when the scene began to play out, several soldiers joining in on the singing with a younger soldier trying to flirt with a officer. “If love’s a fight then I shall fight, with my heart on a trigger, when they say before you start a war, you better know what you’re fighting for, well baby you are all I adore, if love is what you need a soldier I will be!, I’ll throw away my faith babe, just to keep you safe, don’t you know you’re everything I have? And I.. wanna live not just survive tonight…” The soldiers pushed the younger soldier towards the woman and he takes a step back while the others kept on singing… the officer had a bright red face but was still quite unimpressed, sipping at her stein. Another man looked over and rolled his eyes at the whole event as the small crowd of younger men kept on with the song. “And Major Tom will sing along, yeah they still say I’m a dreamer!..” They nudged the officer and he almost growled, he hated his own name… the butt of many jokes and songs… The younger solder slicked his dark hair back and straightens himself up, in the new Legionnaire uniform and he leans up against the bar itself… The younger woman gulping down the last bit of her glass and slamming it down almost shattering it.. “Sentire!” She turned to glare at the younger man as he began to speak. “Well, Commissar Revarius, I really didn’t expect to see you here-” The Commissar cut him off. “I only drink when I feel like a celebration is needed, and the formation and Implementation of the first Legion is one of those occasions I get to drink this shitty Sake-mixed beer…” The bartender managed to refill her stein right before the Commissar whisked it up and forced some of it down again, the younger soldier about to take another step forward when the Commissar lightly bonked him on the head with the flask. “I don’t play like that, boy.” The younger man rubbed the top of his head and smirked… “Come on… that’s not what you said during the Battle of Vanktrikari~” He teased over and she looked on up and back over at him. “You saved my life, and I’m still thankful for it, but it doesn't mean you’re going to win me over easy.” The younger soldier shrugged over… “I didn't expect to win you over easily.. but that blush told quite a bit~...” She looked down and finally up, rolling her eyes at him. “It’s still there~...” She paused and brought her stien down hard over the young man’s head knocking him over onto the floor this, a small gash across his forehead brought down a trickle of blood and she just stood there, sipping at it again. “Heh…” Bringing his hand up and feeling the trickle he looked at the crimson on his hand and he just looks on up. “God, I love you…” She turned and looked on down again more critically with a bright-red face but brought up the stein and gulped down the last bit of the blended beer. There was a silent moment for the woman… then the alarms began to blare, and Major Tom glanced on up at two lovebirds… “A test isn’t scheduled today is it?...” One of them asked. “No… it’s not…” The Soldiers scrambled, all running out the bar the best they can, the drunken were escorted out by their comrades. Spearhead Outpost near Village, Vandinium, 3:49 AM, Day 1 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The militia dawned their rifles and uniforms the moment the outpost’s sirens began to blare, villagers turned millita and a few Republican support soldiers and Kommandants joined in. Jademade calm strides out of the outpost, fastening her old bloodstained jacket, dark and with a few patched holes, grumbling before tying her hair back and placing her Kommandant hat on. Alfred tightened his boots and the bulletproofing along the uniform, noting the several patched holes “I fucking hate these uniforms, command is just too fucking cheap to give us real uniforms.. oh nooo we get the fucking Blackwatch hand-me-downs-” Jade stopped to glare at him and he went silent, she turned her glare from Alfred to the treeline. The shred of fire could be heard getting closer… a helicopter flying overhead. A flash of an explosion next… “There’s no way this can be a training accident.. never seen anything like this…” Alfred spoke up. “Kommandant! The Militia is ready to move out!” She nods towards the soldier and mentions towards a small convoy of vehicles consisting of humvees, and technicals, along with two anti-air tanks.. the new ones, only seeing them tested Jade smiled at the idea of seeing if they will work on multiple aircraft at once while making her way to the leading humvee, getting into the passenger side while Alfred only had enough time to tie his boots before running to the driver’s side and placing the keys in and turning it on, a soft rumbling below them from the newer model almost made Jade purr… “Ahh~ Feels nice to use the new toys...” Her cooing caused Alfred to roll his own eyes… “Your Comma-” he began, before being interrupted. “Full Foward, North, we are going to the action…” The convoy began to accelerate out of the outpost with militia following. Jade reached over and turned on the radio, turning a few stations before landing on a more classical feel of music, causing Alfred to glance on over and almost glare at her.. “I never figured you to be-” Alfred almost ran them into a tree and Jade reached over with her gloved hands to cover his chest. “ALFRED! WATCH THE BLOODY ROAD!” She yells at the top of her lungs causing his ear to ring and him to shut up… The command humvee swerved for a moment and got back onto the road.. “Helicopter down half a click west, Jade, go check it out… expect hostiles” Jade rolled her eyes.. “Just bloody say Altics.. we all know what it is… it’s no training accident…” The convoy stopped and for the next minute men funneled out. Jade jumped on out and began to walk towards the gathering squads, Alfred sticking close behind her.. “Move out… MOVE OUT! There’s no time to waste! Half a click west…” They made their way over slowly the first few squads beginning to move out and along in the woods… militia and Republican soldiers silenced was maintained for awhile… Alfred sticking by, watching the trees while Jade pushed forward… until one of the Republican soldiers through up a signal, they found it. A militia fighter stopped, seeing movement and aiming his rifle.. firing and barely missing, hitting the side of the helicopter. “Movement!” Jade jogged her way over, Republican soldiers already raising their rifles and machineguns. The figured moved out of the helicopter again and began to fire, causing the squad to spread out and fire back, a .308 round found its home into the figure’s shoulder, the figure fired back, an unlucky militia member fell to the ground, a gashing bullet wound in his head… and he just screamed in pain. The other members began to get shots off at the figure, more squads joining in, a machinegun began to blare, more rifles joining in on the onslaught.. four.. five… seven… twelve.. rounds filled the individual before he finally collapsed to the ground.. “Move up!... Check the body! Get that man a Medic!” Jade pointed around, first at the dead figure, then at the fallen militia man, still clenching at his own eye… She walked on out towards it, pulling her own sidearm with several Republican soldiers at her side, all in old decommissioned patched-up Blackwatch uniforms.. having the flag of Imperial Vandinium up in the shoulder. The pilot was writhing on the ground, clearly injured from the crash. A blonde woman with shoulder-length in her thirties or late twenties, her face was covered in blood, and one of her ankles was clearly twisted the wrong way. She was desperately trying to crawl away from both the burning chopper and the encroaching soldiers. She had empty submachine gun in hand, and she threw it away. She tried to grab for her pistol, but the sheath was empty. “Shit, shit shit! Please don’t kill me!” She said as she held her hands up, a pained expression on her face. Jade raised her pistol towards the pilot, the soldiers around her spreading out slowly, having their rifles raised. “I’d be damned… I thought you fuckers would rather bite into a cyanide capsule than to be captured by us..” She made a motion to one of the soldiers, crossing her fingers and pointing her fingers in the air before slowly approaching her. “Name, Rank, Number.” The pilot stopped trying to crawl away. “Fuck! Jaina Goldenward, C-crew chief, RAAF-210-1717! Don’t kill me!” Jade rolled her eyes and walked right on over at her, placing her own pistol away. “How… I thought you Altics fought to the death and all that…” She kneels on down and smiles, a small dot of blood notably seen splattered on her cheek… “Think you can walk?...” Alfred walks on over, his pistol out, going over to her side. “Commissar, we need to double back, command has just ordered us back to the first defensive position, code Black.” Jade nodded and looked over Jaina again. The pilot was noticeably shaken up. “You….you killed him. You killed Karl.” she said in between breaths. “Why...why do you want to help me?” she asked, getting a good look at their officer. Jade blinks on down, brushing her semi-long black hair to the side. “Because, you’re still a kid, kid, and I may not look like it in your eyes but I’m not a monster-” Jade was explaining until she was cut off. The pilot’s eyes flared at Jade’s tone, clearly visible even through the smashed goggles. “I lost my father in that damn mall!” she yelled out impulsively, silencing herself before saying anything that would cost her. “Commissar…” Alfred took a step forward and Jade placed her hand up. “Your… Karl… He fought us, he stood and shot at us, he was armed, this is war child… if we didn’t shoot him he would have shot us, I already lost one good man.. look, we need to go, the artillery are about to fire and I’d be damned if I’m caught up in that hell…” She offers her hand. “Do I look like I killed your father, child?” Jaina paused, wiping some of the blood off her face. “You look like you would have-” The sound of gunfire drew closer. The artillery was about to start. “If you’re planning on saving me, you might as well do it.” she said as she grabbed Jade’s hand and tried to stand on her feet. It hurt like hell, but she could take a few steps. “For the love of…” Jade groaned and reached over Jaina wrapping her arm under Jaina’s leg, then hoisting Jaina up and turning towards Alfred. “Not enough time, GO!..” She groaned… her arm shaking as she held Jaina, jogging along in the forest muttering the entire time, the fall wind softly blows in from the North, a chilly wind, all the way back to the convoy. “Fucking play hero, Republican Guard...of course...of course…fucking ‘honorable Republican Guard’...” She wheezed and handed off Jaina to Alfred, who placed her in the back of the humvee, alone. Alfred running over and getting into the passenger’s seat right as Jade floored it, the humvee charging forward, along with the rest of the convoy, looping around the road for a minute, right as the artillery started, the ground shaking right as the convoy exited the danger zone. “Play hero! WHY THE FUCK DO I PLAY HERO!?” Poor Alfred shuffled around, trying to get his seatbelt on.. “WHY DID I LET YOU DRIVE!?...” |
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| Hawkwick | Jan 21 2016, 09:51 PM Post #8 |
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Co-Keeper
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Royal Palace, Zwickau, 1:00 PM, Day 7 --------------------------------------------------------------------- Jorik put out the cigar. Markus sighed. “Any update on Elisia?” he asked, a shred of hope still in his voice. Jorik shook his head. “During the assault one of ours hacked into the server hub for the castle. We downloaded a large chunk of their data, but..” he paused. “It’s heavily encrypted. It could take a while to break.” he sighed. “We also took the personnel records for the whole castle.” he paused again, sighing. Markus wouldn’t want to hear this. “Fredrick doesn’t have any new info, aside from his children, at least compared to former HARM and FRA data. But Mallorie…” Markus looked up, curious to hear of his sister. He still missed her. “Did you find out what happened to her?” he asked. Jorik nodded. “She’s alive. She’s also apparently in a relationship with the Ulfbert brat. If this data is to be believed.” Markus scowled, “She’s with that joke?! He...he’s the enemy!” Markus sighed deeply, thinking over her for a minute, and the last words they had spoken to each other two years ago, the small bout of anger fading away. “She...Jorik. She didn’t deserve to be caught up in my world. The lies, the killing. She’s in the wrong place, with the wrong person.” Jorik nodded solemnly. “I know.” he said assuredly. Markus contemplated the new information momentarily before looking at Jorik. “We have to go back for her and Elisia.” he stated. Jorik shook his head almost immediately. “No, no, we can’t. At this point it’s too well defended. That entire city is on lockdown.” he frowned. Markus stood up. “They have my wife and sister, Jorik!” he roared out. “We’re going back, but we do it right this time. Not guns blazing.” Jorik got the message. “Very well. I’ll get our best men on it. Project Dragonfire, even. But they’re going in, retrieving them, and then getting out. No more, no less. We can’t afford to make the same mistake twice.” he said. Markus nodded. “Don’t hurt either of them. Or I will hurt you.” he said barely audibly. Jorik nodded. “As you wish, my lord.” He paused before pressing the door handle. “And if they move, Markus?” he asked, quietly. “Then we will hunt them to the ends of the earth.” Eldgammel AFB, South of Ostwind, 11:00 PM, Day 9 --------------------------------------------------------------------- The girl unclipped her switchblade and cut through the ropes holding the barrels together, before giving them a slight push, causing the first to topple over. They fell down out of the truck, one of them spilling out oil all over the others. She quickly got a jerry-can from the truck and started pouring out gasoline. Nobody was watching. This was too easy. She finished pouring it now, now standing at a relatively safe distance. Giving the surroundings another look for patrolling soldiers, she saw nothing and shot her pistol into the gasoline, the stream igniting and slowly burning its way towards the toppled barrels. She began making a run for it, quickly glancing back just in time to catch the boom and the fire-ball. She could feel the heat on the back of her stolen uniform. The blare from the alarms came shortly afterwards. “Fuck me…” she said quietly as about five soldiers quickly ran over to the truck with fire-extinguishers. She was nearing the compound fence by now. nobody had seen her. As she grabbed onto the fence and started climbing, she thought she heard something behind her. Her left leg carefully went over the barbed wire at the top, and she started to change her center of gravity and swing her other leg across when something caught on to it. A hand. She fell violently off of the fence, the barbed wire cutting her a bit in the side. When she opened her eyes, a gun barrel was being brought up to her face. Acting quickly, she put a shot into his head. He dropped his gun and slumped over, falling on top of her with all of his weight. Her face was covered in blood. “Holy fuck!” she whispered to herself, realizing she had just killed a guy. A trained Altic Union soldier, with a family. “Oh, holy, oh fuck!” she said to herself, out of breath from adrenaline already. More people were coming. The fence began buzzing. They must have electrified it. She began running parallel to the fence. Up ahead, she saw a large opening in the links. Probably a leftover from the Blackwatch occupation of the airbase. It was well-hidden behind all of the ammo and shipping containers. She jumped through it, hitting the ground hard on the other side but luckily not touching any of the electrified fence. Another soldier followed her down, and another man, clearly a high ranking officer, came up behind him. The first man paused, bringing up his assault rifle right at the opening in the links. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. It was all it took. The man hit his head on the links, and the fence flashed with electricity. He was dead on contact. The other man shielded his eyes, but quickly began unloading his large handgun into the forest. A round hit the tree next to her and she winced as a couple of splinters flew towards her face. She quickly turned her head to the large forest and began sprinting into it, yelling coming from the base behind her. “Catch her, and tear her apart!” she heard. Senft had betrayed his identity. Or maybe they had pulled it off of his corpse. She sighed, quickly diving into a sewer tunnel and crawling through it. They had no idea this even existed. Worst security flaw in history. She knew where to go from here...hopefully. Unknown, Neraklos, 12:00 AM, Day 22 --------------------------------------------------------------------- “Alright!” Hellhorn yelled at Wil. “I understand your concern but if we don’t go forward with this plan, then the whole bloody NFA is gone!” Wil quickly countered. “The NFA is gone, and it’s been gone for two years! We can’t afford this. We need to live before we can die, and we’re barely surviving now.” Hellhorn sighed. “This is all or nothing. We can’t do it now. We’d be betraying millions. Millions that await our return and our government.” Wil shook his head. “It’s not so simple. We’re twelve versus twelve million. Those aren’t good odds.” Hellhorn smirked “That’s what they told Hans Jensen.” he said, smug. “Yeah, in an election, not a war.” Wil was getting restless. Hellhorn was just getting started. “Hellhorn, rethink your plan. Threatening the whole Union with nukes isn’t going to paint us in a good light.” Wil said. Hellhorn sighed. “Then what do we do? Kill Narheim and Albrecht?” Wil nodded. “Yeah, or-” They were interrupted. “Quiet!” Eldridge walked in. “When you recruited me based on my association with Evelyn, I assumed she didn’t rejoin because of political differences, not because of your bullshit arguments. We’re all in favor of killing Narheim and then going to Ostwind, so that’s what we’re doing. The nukes come later.” Hellhorn frowned. Eldridge didn’t. “You may be in control, but leave the planning to the man who’s been in a real army. We have a month to prepare.” Royal Palace, Vandinium, 8:20 AM, Day 49 --------------------------------------------------------------------- The sound of thundering explosions echoed through the Royal Palace. The palace was becoming run down and mostly empty, with every last man and woman focused on helping with the war effort. By now the front had ground to a crawl, but the Altics still made progress each day, the distant explosions rocking and thundering ever closer. Mallorie sat in the large bedroom on the bench at the foot of their oversized bed, looking weary and tired. The Capital was cut off from the mainland, and food and supplies were becoming scarce. Winter was setting in particularly early with light snow already beginning to fall, so she gathered as many of her jackets and sweaters as she could to send to the soldiers on the front. She grabbed a large case full of clothes and walked toward the door, but Magnus walked in as she reached for the door handle. “Here, I’ll get that.,” he said, softly smiling at her. He looked exhausted, with large bags and a look of weariness and defeat in his eyes. Together they walked down the dusty hallway of the palace. A random explosion rang through the palace, sounding very close, before it faded away, several soldiers running on by, rifles loaded. Just another day, but something was different, feet marched down the hall, and Magnus could see the Emperor in the middle, one of his advisors at his side.. “Sir, the helicopters will be here in T-Minus Twenty.” He nodded on over and paused, glancing on over at Magnus and Mallorie with tired looking eyes of his own… “Sir, we need to go now..” The advisor urged him on, Fredrick pushed back the advisor lightly and walked up to Magnus, looking him up and down. “So.. King… think you can hold down the fort?.. Or do you want to come with me?.. Enemy forces are coming dangerously close to the palace, already have reports that they have begun their third assault on the city, not very many can hold out, I’m not sure if they will take the palace in this attack, or if they will be bogged down again… if you do choose to stay, I’ll leave behind my best guardsmen, if you come with me, you’ll ride in the same heli.. but risk being shot down.. I need to go and reorganize the men, the Legions are getting restless, they want to fight, but I’m holding them back until winter really sets in-” He goes off to the side and coughs.. sighing and dusting himself off. “So, what do you say, warrior king, come, go, live, die, all roads have the same chances, I have chosen the road of which to lead my people, and that is the road of cowardice, I didn’t want to do this.. but I will serve my people better alive than dead, and you?..” Magnus sighed, looking over at Mallorie for a second. “It is said that the Ulfberts would fight to the last man in almost any situation they were in. There is a good reason my family stopped being rulers of Hawkwick, Fredrick. This stopped being about honor long ago. It’s about survival now. I’m coming with you. We all are.” he said wearily as he turned to the head guardsman that always seemed to flank him. “Tell the men we’re leaving.” he said, and the man nodded slowly as he trudged off towards the others. Fredrick nods. “I’ll be honest, any choice is a good choice… there’s still a chance that we all get shot down, captured, tortured, shot, die in the crash… but I have sent a division of Civilian Legion to create a distraction while we evacuate, come on, can’t stand this fucking cold.” He turns and turns to a guardsman near him. “Go, prep for evacuation, everyone is leaving.” The guardsman nods and runs off, yelling down the hall. “Alright! Alright! Move it! We are evacuating come on! COME ON!... You too, chamber maid!” Fredrick moved away, and out of the hallway with the rest of his guard. Magnus dropped the sweaters and quickly ran back to his room, Mallorie following close behind as he went through the doorway and immediately swung the closet doors open. “Mal, get our shit, I need to save all of our electronics!” he called out right as she rounded the corner before going over to the nearby desk and grabbing every wire and laptop he could, and throwing it on the bed. “Looks like we might have to keep those sweaters.” he said as he began bunching the wires together. He then quickly moved back to the closet and pulled out a set of HARM camouflage pants and a brown military jacket that he had gotten at his stay at the palace, and threw them on. A HARM assault pack followed next, loaded with a military-grade first-aid kit, two leftover Vandinium rations, and some more clothing. He looked over to Mallorie, who had filled the backpack she had first arrived in with all of her essentials. “That everything Mal?” he asked, another explosion landing somewhere close. “We gotta fucking move!” Mallorie nodded. “Hmm, yeah, I know that!” she said sarcastically as she threw a winter coat on and grabbed her bag. Magnus waited for her to get up before going back into the closet, grabbing an old radio and his longsword and clipping them onto his belt before retrieving the pistol Matterhorn gave him from a strongbox and loading it, and starting down the hallway again, going right past Mallorie. “Keep up, Mal! Not much time left now.” he said as he ran back into the main hall. where his guardsman was waiting for him, along with Fredrick and Ava, which had gotten their own stuff together. “We ready?” he asked them. Fredrick nods on over, patting at little Valeria’s shoulder, a heavy winter coat on her. “All of it is in the VTOL already, faster we get out of here, the better.” He turns and mentions for the guardsmen to go up the stairs, he marches up as fast as he could, the hurried steps going around and around up the grand staircase, peppered with a light amount of shrapnel from a recent bombing. Near the top the staircase had an inch of fresh snow covering the stairs, the very top of the staircase being blown from the bombing, at the top nine VTOL aircraft were fired up, and ready to go, supplies and men and women filled each VTOL near the maximum limit they could allow, the staff and soldiers mostly evacuated. The group picked up the pace with a light Jog, Fredrick pointing off. “Two of you, stick with me, the rest, go to the others…” He gets up into the VTOL, Ava and his daughter finding seats next to him, along with two of his guardsmen, enough room for Mallerie, Magnus and their guards. “Come on, helicopter rides are always exciting!” Fredrick smiles at the two. “Oh, you say that now, just wait until we get shot at.” Mallorie said as she jumped up first. jumped up first, Magnus took a fleeting glimpse of the palace and followed in afterwards, their guardsmen loading up. “Nervous, Fredrick?” he asked as he buckled into a seat quickly. “Always.” Fredrick placed, already buckled placed an arm around Ava and his little daughter. “Always.” Fredrick leans back and glances on out, one of the pilots glancing back. “Alright, hope you all don’t mind classical!” Magnus shook his head. “What is it with you guys and this classical?” he asked jokingly. “You might as well play it when you shit.” he said. Mallorie giggled. The Pilots busied themselves with take off, slowly getting the VTOL off the ground, turning on the radio, a classic symphony by an early Vandiniumite composer. Fredrick couldn’t help but smirk. “It helps keep them cool under pressure, less likely to crash the fu-...” He cut himself off and glances at Valeria and cuts himself back in. “Less likely to crash the helicopter…” He clears his throat back right as the VTOL changed gears and the helicopter began to propel forward, faster and faster. “Always.. always cold..” Fredrick groaned. “Stay calm, guys. Come on, we’re nearly out of this.” Mallorie said to Ava and Valeria as Magnus peered outside the window at the white city. “What a view.” he said quietly. “Ava...when they first landed us here...do you remember the view?” Ava nodded solemnly. “Exact same bloody view.” he said. Mallorie peered over his shoulder. A large explosion at the outskirts of the city lit up the cabin. Magnus turned back towards Fredrick. “The attack’s starting...The attack’s starting, here they come.” The Emperor nods, and glances out the window. “Nothing we can do, just pray to whomever you pray to, and hope I picked the right pilots for the job…” He sighs. “The Civilian Legion on the ground is pushing into Altic Territory below us, the distraction should have started now. Just, relax.. everything will be alright.” Then they started firing. Magnus sighed. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire.” |
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| Hawkwick | Jan 21 2016, 09:52 PM Post #9 |
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Co-Keeper
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Amorici Superior, City of Oxtrobourghen 2:27 PM ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” sighs the large man, shuffling through a deck of lined cards, going over them one last time. In the background the noises of a large crowd sifts in through the nearby window. They sound angry somehow. “They want you to do this, you know,” replies the nearby white haired woman. A long bushy tail swishes around behind her as she peers out the window. “Isn’t this what you wanted too?” “The demonstrations, sure. The chance for us to do what’s right, definitely.” He pauses, tucking the cards into his jacket pocket. “But you know I never wanted to lead. I had enough trouble just being the foreman.” He snorts as he recalls his days in the mines. Of course this could also have been his propensity for leading his workers on strike whenever the governor tried to shaft them on pay. “You… really think I can do this?” The kitari woman smiles, pressing herself up into him as she hugs him tightly. Despite his already large size, the kitari woman is still somehow a few inches taller than he is. She looks into his eyes as her mouth splits into a grin. “You know what I think. Nobody could lead these people like you. They don’t need just another leader. They need one with a heart.” She kisses him on the cheek and then gives him a light slap on the other. “Knock them dead, sweetie.” He rubs his slightly stinging face and grins back. “Let’s do it, huh?” he replies as the two of them exit the room and head out to the stage. The moment the man exited his room, and found himself out on the stage, he found a growing crowd of angry Amorici people, some actually having gathered a mixture of weapons, almost like an angry mob, subtract the pitchforks and torches, add rifles and older curved blades. Not all of them were armed, but plenty more were just as angry. The Amorici blood boiled, only the strongest could lead, with the Vandiniumite Empire showing weakness, and the soldiers leaving for their war, their time of independence were at hand, at least half of them had a book with them, some holding the book in one hand, and the hand on the hilt of old blades and older rifles. Anyone can tell when an Amorici man or woman is angry by how their lightly tanned skin turns a certain shade of rose-red and their speech slurs down with a mixture of a High-Amorici language and the native language of each clan. The moment the large man entered the stage he found himself a roar of cheers, the books being raised in the air along with a soft chant which grew.. .and grew… “Down with the Imperials! Down with the Imperalists! Down with the Imperials! Down with the Imperialists! Syeltiks ni erkh chölöö!” Freedom for the Amorici… Freedom for the clans… they continued their chants, awaiting for him to speak in the middle of the stage, the crowd continuously growing, drawing the immediate attention of nearby Vandiniumite riot officers, having fewer than a hundred on their side they wore full riot gear along with shock batons, each baton also carrying a solid lead weight, so each swing could cut and break a skull if need be. The man takes the stage, stopping at a podium set up for him in the middle. Smiling at the crowd he holds his hands out both as a greeting an in an attempt to have them settle down a little so that he can speak. “Friends,” he begins. “Clansmen. Brothers and sisters.” He takes in the view. There were more people than he had anticipated. And far more than he expected to be armed. So much for his peaceful demonstration. “Today, the nation of Vandinium has entered a crisis. One that could easily have been seen coming due to their actions.” There’s a loud cheer from the back as the speaker openly, though politely perhaps, insults the nation. “A perfidious influence has controlled the Empire since it’s beginning. One that has controlled all nations to exist on our world. I speak, of course, of the spectre of Greed that hangs over us all. The desire to own. The hollow pursuit of the Vance. It is what drives the wedge between us as people. Why is it that we, the Amorici, have fought amongst ourselves for untold generations, despite being all one of the same people? Why do we look down upon the other races? Is it because we are inherently better? Or is there some other force at work?” He’s getting into it now. He begins to glow with excitement as he works himself up. “I say to all of you, my fellows that it is our greed that caused this. We want to own our neighbor’s land so we attack them. We make their wives widows and their children orphans for their resources. For their wealth. This is not an honorable fight. We as Amorici live to be free, but can this really be called freedom? No! We have become slaves. Not just to those who would use us like the Vandiniumites, but to our own impulses. We enslave ourselves to the desire for wealth. And where does this lead us? The Eternal Revolution. The cycle of which I have spoken. We desire the wealth and power of another, so we take it. Then when we are the ones in power, others desire our power, and there is only a matter of time before they take it as well.” “But…” he starts. “Is this the way it has to be? Is this an immutable law of nature? No! It is something imposed on us. We buy, we consume, we covet at the behest of those at the top. Knowing full well the risk of another cycle because it is what keeps them at the top. After all, if the people don’t know of the cycle, they will continue to prop up those at the top. But what if someone stands up and says ‘I refuse. I will not continue the cycle.’ What then? Does civilization collapse without the influence of money? Are we really so base that something like this is all that keeps us from being like the animals? That is why I am here today. Because I am saying that I will not continue the cycle. Vandinium is falling, and I refuse to give in to greed. Today, brothers and sisters. Today we break the cycle. The revolution will no longer continue. And today… we cast off the trappings put upon us by those who obey the will of their golden god. Today we are no longer Vandiniumites. We are Amorici. This is our home. Our Bhaile!” There was a long pause in the crowd, to the man it felt like an eternity, but in reality, the pause only lasted a few moments when he finished, the crowd began to get uppity again, started as a small chant which changed as more joined it. “Bhaile! Bhaile! Bhaile! Death to the Emperor! Death to Greed! Bhaile! Bhaile! Ba-” One of the riot officers fired a tear-gas canister into the crowd, visible striking a child which sat upon the shoulders of a larger man, knocking him down into the crowd… not… a smart move… at all… Within moments the hissing of the canister was drowned out by a collective battlecry of over a thousand Amorici men.. old swords being drawn, and older rifles being raised. The riot police drew a line and began to push forward, canister after canister were shot into the crowd in an effort to disperse it… A small hole was created in the middle of the crowd, not for the canister of tear gas, but for a larger man who holds his hands up, looking down his blood covered hands and looks towards the riot lines… several men and women attempting to stop the bleeding of the child, he draws his sword, and makes his way up to the line, each time someone got too close to the line the riot line dispersed slightly, changing formations to capture and beat each individual, in an attempt to micromanage the crowd, trying to pick it apart piece by piece, but the larger Amorici man, blood still dripping from one of his hands walks right over, his sword drawn, immediately an officer breaks formation and goes to try to whack him in the side of his head, the man grabbed the baton, his muscles clenching as the volts go through his body, forcing his arm up, he makes a chopping motion once.. twice.. three times.. and that was all it took, the officer laid on the ground, her arm lobbed off, the man tossing it to the side and lobbed at her head. The crowd gathered at that moment, and a few fired their rifles, being older one-shot weapons they were high in caliber, the newer plastic ‘bulletproof’ shields shattering at each round, hitting the riot officer behind it, they immediately began to fall back. Around the corner of the square right when the officers began their retreat was another group of Amorici separatists, these turned the corner, fired their rifles into the backs of the retreating officers and charged forward, sword drawn. “Kill the Greedy Imperials!” Being pressed on by both sides, shields not doing as well as they were suppose to, the officers were gutted. They stood no chance. The crowd continued onwards though, past the mangled bodies of the officers which were the causes of so much grief during the occupation, and towards the governor's mansion. The man stands there aghast at what had just transpired. In the blink of an eye what had been a peaceful, if charged, rally had become a bloodbath. Whether just the slip of a finger, or perhaps the officer had decided this needed to be put down right now. Either way, the powder keg that had been building over the past few years had gone off, not from Donal’s words as he had hoped, but in a sea of blood. Glancing over at his wife, he waves her close worried that the crowd might be somewhat indiscriminate in who they target and makes to catch up with the mob, hoping to cut them off before they reach the mansion. ‘This is all wrong,’ he thinks. ‘If this continues, we’ll lose all legitimacy. We’ll be seen as nothing more than the savages other nations paint us as.’ Seeing the determined look on his face as he moves, his wife nods and begins shoving rioters out of the way as they head to the front. “Out of the way assholes!” she practically roars, knocking a man several times her mass off to the side. “C’mon, Donny, you got this…” She says over the din of the crowd. Gritting his teeth he yanks the rifle out of the hands of one of the rioters and runs to the front, standing in front of them and firing the shot into the air, hoping to bring the movement to a stop. He didn’t want to lead. And here it is, the first test of leadership. If he fails, even more people are going to die… “Stop!” he roars in the Amorici tongue over the crowd, hoping their native language would get him more attention. The crowd stop, a few pushing from behind wanting to see why they stopped, others in a simple bloodlust. Out of the governor's mansion came a convoy of cars, rifles aimed at the crowd, real rifles, fully automatic, they held their fire so long as the crowd remained still, the governor's car speeding out of the mansion, and with a single glance through one of the windows one could see the governor flanked by two bodyguards. The cars sped as fast as they could out of the city itself. Donal is furious. “Is this what you wanted?” He asks, pointing at the crowd, stained red with the blood of the police they had attacked as well as any of their own that got trampled in the riot. “Are we really the animals that they paint us as? ONE OF THEM fired upon you, yes. ONE OF THEM. And you slaughter the entire group. I know the ancient ways. And this is NOT how it is done. This is not justice!” He throws the borrowed gun to the ground in disgust. “And now, you want to attack someone who was not even related to the crime? Look behind me. Look at what would have happened had you continued.” Behind him the crowd can see the governor’s cadre of heavily armed bodyguards. Former special forces, highly trained. Not just some cops in borrowed armor. “Is this what you want? I offered you freedom, and you nearly chose death instead.” He pauses, eyeing the crowd. “There will be no more death today. Blood for blood. You!” He yells, pointing at the man whose child was struck. “Get your child to a hospital. They might still be able to save them.” He nods and turns back to the crowd. “Do you see what you have done? In your effort to take vengeance, there is a chance that the child might not make it. Because of your lust for violence. This is what I wrote about. You must take stock of the situation. You must THINK. Should that child die now, it is not just that officer who is responsible.” He looks down at the ground and then back at the guards blocking access to the mansion. “Learn from what happened today,” he yells back at the crowd. “I do not ask you to discard the traditions. Justice can come later. Justice WILL come later. For now, see to the wounded.” The crowd pauses for a moment. Complete silence blankets the street. A few members of the crowd bleed off to take care of the wounded. “This is the beginning of a new age. I will not see my people becoming the savages that the rest of the world claims we are. We will stand as one, and we will fight as one. But for now. We must build as one.” The crowd murmurs among itself. Some angrily, some with rather more positive tones. Until one man, steps forward. He’s rather old looking, a bit wrinkled and grey haired, armed only with a pitchfork. Turning to the crowd, he tosses it down onto the ground and yells, “Тэр шинэ захирал юм!” A wave of dawning comprehension sweeps over the crowd, as one of shock begins to sweep over Donal’s. “H-hold on a se-” he starts before the crowd begins to kneel down before him. His wife smirks over at him. “Chief, eh? You did pretty good, sweetie,” she whispers. He gives her a look before he steps over to the front of the line. “No. Nono, stand up. All of you.” They do so. The word of the chief is law after all. “This simply will not do. Have you forgotten? We are here to break the cycle of oppression and revolution. There is only one way to do this. All men. ALL men, are equal. I will lead you if that is what you wish, but I am no chief. We all have our parts to play in this new way, but I am no better than any of you. For the greater good of us all, we cannot have titles placing us above or below one another. Even leaders are people, no better than those they lead.” |
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9:42 PM Jul 11