Post

Greater polaris wrote:

Over the Skies of Argent Crimea

With a brisk chat between the lounge and the bridge, the group quickly found themselves at the communications center of the bridge, near the very front and center of the room. A tentative press and a thumbs up from the communications officer later, and the Detachment Commander Aurelio Holt pressed down on the AIR-stat radio button, with a brisk, "This is Major General Aurelio Holt, representing a detachment of three Polarian airships of the Polaris Airborne Navy, requesting docking directives and locations for predetermined landing zone."

Kerch Governor's Mansion

In what has become command central for the forward command observing the situation in Caucasia, a rustle and bustle of activity streams around the large room. What was once the large personal office of the governor of the city, has had its high quality wooden furniture and valuable other amenities pushed against the walls to make way for the various officers and staff to walk freely to different stations of computers, communications, and various other screens.

At the far back of the room remains the intricately carved antique mahogany desk and tall leather chair of the governors'. However, it is not the governor that occupies the chair or is the one with their boots on the desk crossed. The man lounging in the chair, stretching his tall lanky body in a position that honestly did not look that comfortable, seemed to be dozing lightly with his burgundy wide brim fedora pulled down over his eyes. The fedora matched the dark burgundy color of his three piece suit. The lapels, trims, and buttons all black with a white dress shirt that sported a black paisley tie.

A young member of the staff cautiously approached the man at the desk. He held in his hand a paper that had just been run off from the printer with the report of the approaching Polarian ships. He stepped forward carefully before gently asking, "Director?" With no response the man stepped forward more and a little louder, "Director Draculesti?" He waited and the man still did not stir. The staffer drew even closer, standing next to the dozing man and lowered his head slightly. "Director Dracul..." He squeaked frantically when very suddenly a hand grabbed the staffer by the tie and brought him down forcibly to face the man in the chair.

The Director raised his fedora and rested it on its proper spot on the crown of his head. He let out a sigh as he starred sharply into the eyes of the staffer with his fiery amber eyes. "What have I told you people about disturbing me?" He said drly but with undertones of irritation.

"Only if the place is on fire? And even then it would have to be really on fire?" The staffer was able to stammer out.

Director Draculesti hummed with a nod, "And is this shiet hole on fire?" With venom in his words growing.

"No, sir?" The staffer finally said to only be rewarded with a tightening of the tie around his neck as Draculesti's other hand found the back of the tie to begin pulling on. "But!" He sputtered frantically, "Word from the capital! The Polarians are arriving." He said trying to direct Draculesti's attention to the paper in his hand.

The Director eyed the paper and could see that what the staffer was saying was true. Draculesti then smirked and then released the struggling staffer. "You should have said that in the first place." With warmth and charm now oozing from his words.

Draculesti stood from the desk and pulled on his suit vest and then jacket to smooth the wrinkles. "Let's head to the airport!" He announced and made for the door. Throwing his floor length overcoat over his shoulders.

Kerch Airport

The dark overcast that hangs above the city of Kerch makes the blinking lights of the Air Traffic Control tower stand out brightly. The stirring wind of the looming storm causes the scattered leaves and dust to dance across the runways. The tower personnel hear the incoming transmission. Despite their being informed well ahead of time of the approaching Polarians, the personnel were still surprised to hear something other than Argentian military air traffic come over through the speakers.

The lead officer at the tower took the microphone and pressed the button to speak into it, "Major General Holt, this is Kerch ATC. Airship landing pylons 4, 5, and 6 have been made available for your arrival. Approach from the north. An escort of two airship destroyers and their helicopter contingents will meet and guide you directly to the docking area."

As the ATC officer finished, the group he spoke of will have approached the Polarian ships. They will about face and lead the Polarian ships, giving them plenty of room by keeping an open formation.

On approach to the docking pylons, the Polarians will see the sight of the large military airport. Airships and planes moving in and out of the area in synchronization. Trucks move with both material and personnel loads. Soldiers march in their drills or can be seen marching on and off ramps of troop ships or landed airships themselves. Dozens of warehouses shelter mountains of various supplies. Along the boundary of the airport and intermittently on the grounds, anti-air cannons are visible as are patrolling tanks.

Waiting on the tarmac stood Director Draculesti with his hands behind his back and his cape acting overcoat fluttering in the wind. A toothy smill on his face as he watched the Polarian ships approach the airport. Behind him stood several Argentian officers and staffers in their weather overcoats at attention; wishing that the Director did not have a love for stormy weather.