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Turns out I never provided the link to the dispatch. So... here ya go. It's under construction, ofc.
I didn't want to type all those pings again so, sorry for the double ping >.>
Türük Cooperation Council
(WIP)The Council is committed to the purpose and principles of the Charter of the International Congress of Peace and Justice (ICPJ) and other universally recognized principles and norms of international law, including sovereign equality, territorial integrity and inviolability of internationally recognized borders of states, as well as the maintenance of international peace, security and development of good-neighborly and friendly relations.
Constructed on the pillars of having a common language, common identity and common culture, the TCC aims to broaden the existing cooperation areas such as economy, science, education, transportation, customs, tourism and other various fields among the Member States into multilateral cooperation for the benefit of the region.(WIP)
Members
Ulvi Aldemir
Age: [TBD]
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Sargassian
Name: Àrman Chagatai
Ethnicity(ies): Atho-Ucerian, Sakanese
Language(s): Badul, Sakanese, Yeroguri, Ucerian
Religion: Manastrianism
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Info: Arman is a 76-year old man who has served as the Jonetici (administrator) of the Fijal County, Areras and the Linyal (provincial governor) of Orzania. He has toured across Westplain and Tolcor, especially in rural parts of Narn aiming to achieve the ability for all underprivileged or have no access to formal education to read and write Badul, and others to a lesser extent. "Badul is a lamguage that reflects the powers that have played a part in our history. It is crucial and my upmost want for all in our country to be able to speak it."
Name: Levni Kadare
52 years old, Kadare is a famous lawyer and a veteran of the legalist struggle for greater recognition of the Sargassian minorities within Merilia. Since the start of the civil war, he found important allies within the Federalist movement, such as Aysun Čad, and acted as an intermediary between him and the sargassian generalissimo of the Liberation Army, Sergen Baba. Kadare has been credited as one of the main actors in the political moderation of the Liberation Army and the progressive sidelining of the separatists and nationalists.
Ethnicity: Half-Sardian (father’s side), Half-Sargassian (mother’s side).
Language: Polyglot, he is fluent in Intermerilian, Ikaş, Sardian dialects, and Solarian Common.
Religion: Order of Piety (Non-practicing)
Dilraba Liya
-Toujikeiyun
Edit. As with most of my dispatches, if there's a portrait image you'd like to use for your Rep don't be afraid to DM in discord or TG it here on NS. TY~
Name: Àrman Chagatai
Arman is a 76-year old man who has served as the Jonetici (administrator) of the Fijal County, Areras and the Linyal (provincial governor) of Orzania. He has toured across Westplain and Tolcor, especially in rural parts of Narn aiming to achieve the ability for all underprivileged or have no access to formal education to read and write Badul, and others to a lesser extent. "Badul is a lamguage that reflects the powers that have played a part in our history. It is crucial and my upmost want for all in our country to be able to speak it."
Ethnicity(ies): Atho-Ucerian, Sakanese
Language(s): Badul, Sakanese, Yeroguri, Ucerian
Religion: Manastrianism
“The vote counting is over.”
The Lyved council awaited the verdict patiently. Among them, Levni Kadare, arms crossed, was looking at the ground.
The dean, presiding the bureau, went to the podium and began listing in his hoarse voice the names of the candidates. It began with the names of the candidates having received the lowest number of votes.
“Keles… 3 votes. Erem… 8.” The dean paused intermittently, raising his hand to his large white beard and tilting his head, as if he seemed to be reflecting on the deeper meaning of the votes cast. “Rairan… 11 votes. Altun, Birsen… 17.”
“Brdanin… 31 votes.” The maximalist-possibilist whose name had just been mentioned nodded silently. It was a respectable score.
“Zengin… 48 votes.” Small movement on the side of the separatist group, of which no candidate had finally managed to gather enough votes to be elected.
“Čakmak…50 votes.” The left-wing federalist exchanged a smile with the man seated to her right, also a candidate, but whose name had not yet been pronounced.
“Thus have been elected… Armagan, with 51 votes… Dogan, 54 votes… and Kadare, with 59 votes. ".
Restrained applause resounded within the assembly.
Levni Kadare had a slight smile. This result was what he expected. Armagan was a left-wing autonomist and federalist, whose election had been ensured by his mandate, received from the nomadic Mustafi and Ikas clans of the western steppes. Dogan, on the other hand, was a non-aligned, enjoying significant prestige since his participation in the so-called “Round Table Negotiations” in Solaria.
Kadare, finally, as the sole candidate of the Federalist Center, was assured of his election whatever happened.
“The representative commission of the Lyved Council and the Southern Liberation Army to the Türük Cooperation Council can be considered established. May this endeavor be given success”
- - -
Name: Levni Kadare
52 years old, Kadare is a famous lawyer and a veteran of the legalist struggle for greater recognition of the Sargassian minorities within Merilia. Since the start of the civil war, he found important allies within the Federalist movement, such as Aysun Čad, and acted as an intermediary between him and the sargassian generalissimo of the Liberation Army, Sergen Baba. Kadare has been credited as one of the main actors in the political moderation of the Liberation Army and the progressive sidelining of the separatists and nationalists.
Ethnicity: Half-Sardian (father’s side), Half-Sargassian (mother’s side).
Language: Polyglot, he is fluent in Intermerilian, Ikaş, Sardian dialects, and Solarian Common.
Religion: Order of Piety (Non-practicing)
SR
RP
Sumoriant oil crisis. OSD crashing. Large Military expansion. Ramifications of Flettish defeat. Increased regulation and taxes. All of those factors and more had done something that had not been seen before the kingdoms this century. With Monday news seeing the average global oil prices reach a new time high of 165.45 OSD (98.21 OSD in 2019 OSD) per barrel of crude, Tuesday would see a serve market down turn.
The Kingdoms Pound ballooned to 2.3 OSD to 1.0 Pound, British exports were falling fast as in the past month those buying in OSD had seen prices increase over 50% which would cause British exports to begin to decline sharply. While even those who were benefiting from massively cheaper imports were finding themselves being out competed by those foreign companies in the far east. Yet not all imports had declined only those that needed little fuel by traveling relative short distance, weighing little and taking up little space. Other imports, from food to cars to raw materials needed to fuel the economy would begin to spiral out of control. As cost would rise, as companies slipped into bankruptcy, as nations heavily dependent on Sumoriant oil or the OSD would teeter on the edge of destruction, global trade as it once was, far from the kingdoms dream as it was would sink into the darkness... soon past was a dream, an impossible goal, a myth of times of plenty despite is flaws, as in the modern day prices soared, and shortages began to bleed all white.
The FISTE 100 was the combine stock value of the top 100 Kingdom companies began to fall. From a total of 9451, to 7543, "SELL SELL SELL" was the words on everyone lips. It seemed the kingdoms would soon face massive economic collapse. The supply chain of the kingdoms global network looked like GSP cheese, with so many holes. For the common man they had noticed the exotic foods and consumer goods becoming rarer, they had noticed the prices in petrol for sure, they had notice the general inflation as the fuel crisis bit. Prime Minster Taylor wanted this to a way to prove his policy's.
While his deputy Emily was suggesting tax breaks and another diplomatic attempt to get Talyr to open up more sites for drilling Talyor and his party had a different idea. While companies railed against the regulation already placed against them, they soon would be cursing to go back as Talyor put forward new regulation giving the unions more power, which in turn forced British firms grant workers further pay increases. He also turn to the sea north west of Scotland, giving government backing for further drilling. He would try to get a bill through parliament that would see 2000 pounds given to every person with the kingdoms yet Emily and her liberals would behind close doors halt this. Argument would erupt with Emily refusing to budge a compromise would be done with instead tax cuts for all income levels that paid taxes, this was hoped to stimulate economic activity and halt the decline in coming manufacture.
This merely help to fuel inflation, forcing the bank of Angland to raise interest rates from 4.25% to 8.75% in a month. This in turn forced even more business toward bankruptcy, the kingdoms had three major problems. Oil and therefore fuel prices, breakdown of existing trade network, and the rising value of the pound to the OSD. It would take radical action to fix this, yet with the fiscal conservative Emily and fiscal liberal Talyor both being halves within the coalition government both would find compromise difficult if not impossible.
Yet with hostile powers such as the goths and Jenovah still breathing down the kingdoms neck both were willing to make a deal with the devil and they had some unseen help. The Imperial Coorpartion had tried lobbying to get Talyr wasn't willing to open up new oil feilds, even despite the millions of OSD thrown at brib... lobbying they turn to darker methods. Using criminal contacts they violate the environmental laws and begin to increase oil exports from the Osea nation. With them smuggling the oil out they could also avoid expensive government taxes.
The government would send out Miss Jackson to sign new deals with many nations as the Kingdoms was officially dropping OSD as a legal currency, to ensure those in the kingdoms who held vast amounts of OSD (mostly international facing banks and business) the kingdoms would convert all of their OSD into equivalent government bonds based off the 2.3 OSD to 1.0 Pound ratio. This would see the OSD crash further but would help partly tackle the inflation yet the oil crisis would still remain.
With the Liberals unwilling to subsides oil prices, Talyor would be forced to undo some environmental protection to allow new off shore oil wells near Scotland, and for the construction of fracking wells in wales despite the locals protesting the move. Talyor only hoped the stipend each local received from the company as long as the fracking occurred within 26 miles of their property would keep them pacified enough to allow it to go through.
The economy was still shaky, new trade deals for oil and many other raw resources would be needed but their was a chance things could be stabilized all were sure the free market would find an equilibrium and for the most part fix the problems it self. Only time would tell if this would work.
Lungha, Yemet, The Greenlandic North, Canineia, and 3 othersEmnaria, Eternal Dominion, and Westplain
"-you say Mittelanea is only an idea still, but why does it need to be? It can be made a reality with our assistance, the Empire at this time has no interest in expanding southeast into the wastes, enough blood has been spilt to get our eastern border as outstretched as it is, to the envy of many a nation. The great wall keeping out the warlords in the wastes is grand and one has yet to successfully breach it, however it would be preferable if a functional nation was to take over there instead. And though not militarily, we can certainly assist infrastructurally. You could also consider it a sign of... good faith, you are after all one of our most reliable trading partners and the most stable of our neighboring nations. As such an improvement in our nations relations would be of benefit to all, wouldn't you say?
The goths however, i see, still remain an issue for you. But they are a threat to the world, and they will remain that way for so long as nations like yours keep providing them with resources, food and money. So i implore you not to see cutting ties with them as committing more sins, but the healing process for the world. If they can be reduced to a minor side nation that poses no threat that would make the world a safer place for every person of every nation. They cannot be trusted to do right, they cannot be trusted to be reasonable."
Margriet settled down again, taking a puff of her pipe again as she awaited Alex's response. She had gifted the Minudians a grand offer, one that should be considered too good not to take. Trade, protection, assistance in expansion, what more could they want? They get their help, the Empire expands its sphere of influence deeper into the continent. Stability and peace cannot be obtained by remaining isolationist, it was time for Margriet to use the Empire's capabilities and splendor in order to get other nations further aligned to it slowly bit by bit.
The Minudians controlled OSEAN and the OSU, however it was a loose grip that would only hold on for a limited amount of time as the nations kept drifting apart from each other. And when the inevitable collapse occurs it will have disastrous effects for the OSU trading world and OSEAN, so too Minuda. And when it happens the Empire will be there to lend a hand, a welcome outreach, some Friently assistance.
Her brother and her ancestors might've conquered by the sword, but she was going for a more diplomatic route to improve the Empire's outreach. One without bloodshed, direct bloodshed at least. After all, she was a businesswoman, and blood is bad for business. The Goths however, even now, prove to be a nuisance and a wrench in the cogs. One that must be dealt with one way or the other if her plans are to unfold profitably. For now though all she could do is await Alex's next response.
SR RP
With the British economy still in a down turn and the negotiations with Eternal Dominion to get further access to the nations vast oil productions the rest of the world would not wait for the global economy to recover. Already in the far west tensions were rising between Canineia and Emnaria, this was concerning for the kingdoms as the trade with both nations was employing 10,000's of British hands, and millions were at risk if the north western trade route was effective.
As a show of confidence to their old allys back in the days of OSEAN, the kingdoms would transport a third of 5th fleet to its military base in Canineia for furture joint excises to reconfirm their relations. Behind close doors the British would reach out to their offically allys of Emnaria to once again deescalate for the sake of the trade route that they and Canineia sat upon.
Triekru, Yemet, The Greenlandic North, Canineia, and 2 othersEmnaria, and Eternal Dominion
SR:RP
The jet had received the call from the Emnarian aircraft but did not respond, it just flew behind them, not altering its course, not talking back just swaying the wind slightly following the formation. It did that for another eight minutes until it suddenly took a dive down into a cloud and instantly disappeared, gone not visible to any radar or eyes. It was gone for exactly 46 seconds before it reappeared again, right in front of the group, the black jet flew right by the front of all five jets at a daring distance and flew into another cloud disappearing once again. The pilot was taking risks, flying close to the aircrafts and disappearing into cloud formations, ARF pilots were trained to fly around planes that way so they could intimidate pilots in ways the regs can’t. However, there was a way the regs could intimidate the Emnarian pilots and it would be coming soon.
Homeland Strategic Defence Command, Directorate of Defence Building, Canidae Harbour
The group of military leaders stared up at the screen in awe as the feed from the ARF pilot showed exactly what their new aircraft was doing. The group had grown larger with more Generals and CSC members showing up including Prime Minister Joskull who was especially worried about the plane.
“They’re taking risks with that”
“That’s the point” General Snowfield replied “Intimidate them as much as possible, show we’re not scared to play a few tricks”
“Yes but that’s only the third aircraft we have made I don’t want it to crash into those planes only for the Emnarians to steal it”
“I’m surprised your more worried about the plane than the whole starting an international war” the King stated
The Prime Minister was about to respond until a Colonel spoke out
“Tracking 8 targets moving in from the Emnarian fleet”
The screen switched from the pilot to a map which showed 8 more red blips moving fast towards the bomber group.
General Snowfield was the first to speak
“Move Blue and Red Squadron to meet up with Ghost Leader and deploy green and gold squadrons, have Purple, Orange, Yellow and Grey squadrons on ready to take off, have Spectre Squadron in the air ready to intercept and finally deploy the rest of Ghost Squadron”
The room once again filled with noise as people ordered different assets to move around the country.
“Your deploying the other two?” Joskull asked
“We have no choice, if I need to take out those bombers or that carrier the Nightskull has the best chance to do so”
The group fell silent as the organised chaos behind them unfolded.
Kullersvik Fissure National Security Research Base
While the teams out west struggled through the snow-ridden road that led to Allen, the men close to the Fissure had an entirely different set of problems on their hands. Jacob had been given to the base’s medical staff, who were taking good care of him, but that was the only positive thing that happened after they arrived at the facility. Talking with the staff that was present and listening in to their communications, they found out about the unfortunate fate of the survey team that’d been sent out and what it meant for them. Some new type of creature was heading towards the site, and with no apparent counter, they’d have to do something, lest they get overrun…
“Alright - everyone, listen up!” Lyon called out, both to the Kexians and the Solarians (since they had taken a crash course on the language, and knew it well enough.) “If the reports we have heard are true, then this base is in serious jeopardy. Gather all personnel stationed here and in the nearby buildings, and give me a count on how many operational vehicles we have.” The lieutenant then turned to face their men, and spoke, in a hushed tone: “Secure any sensitive documents and information from here. We can’t afford to lose this data.”
There was no time to waste, so the operators downloaded anything and everything they could find while the research staff was herded away from their labs and towards the living quarters so that they could be all accounted for and then evacuated. Lyon then went over their new plan:
“This place is turning inside out and if whatever is coming towards the base doesn’t kill us, the weather might. We will head to the nearest safe area and break visual contact with the… unidentified creature. Once we have time, you will give us detailed accounts of the results of your studies in this area. You are not to mention any of this to other colleagues of yours or unlicensed personnel. Failure to comply with our directives will be considered a breach of national security laws and be dealt with accordingly.” Having trained on Kexian laws against espionage and security breaches (after all, the lieutenant was a literal spy, they might as well know the punishment they get from here), Lyon knew the strict procedures that were to be followed, and prayed that the researchers would be wise enough not to leak the details of this encounter.
Pavlov, meanwhile, oversaw the doctors at the base, barking the occasional order at them such as “Keep an eye out on his pulse!” or “Make sure the IV line is stable!” Having dragged a near-dead man through well over a kilometer of snow, it was less about the mission at this point, but about professional dedication for him. He was fairly certain that the pilot would be suffering from, at the very least, temporary short-term memory loss, as his brain definitely didn’t benefit from the hard landing he made.
Everyone prepared to move out, with the agents cleaning up their guns and ensuring they were defrosted. Hopefully, none of the Kexian scientists, or the other guys around, had any nasty surprises to throw.
Some distance from Allen
With Captain Azzi at the helm, the other two teams relocated at roughly an hour’s distance from the former Kexian capital - their stolen company van (whose GPS and security trackers had been disabled, because it’d be stupid to get de-conspired by an angry sewage plant boss tracking them down) was hidden in a ditch, with the added thick snow obscuring it even further from view. In the cramped interior of the vehicle, the officer faced his men and began explaining their next plan: infiltrating Allen.
“As you can see, some of us are visibly non-Kexian,” Azzi said, given the fact he’s a Sumori expatriate, “and others have access to technology that shouldn’t be accessible to the average citizen,” he then glanced to the lieutenant that was commanding the other squad. “Given this, we will be hanging back, and commanding remotely from this position via our radios. You’ll be equipped with the necessary listening devices for us to monitor you, so don’t worry about that part. If anyone asks, you are just residents who were outside but got lost in the storm. Understood? Good. Prep up, everyone.”
70,000 Feet over Biānjaidiqque, East Osea
A spy plane treads along the edge of the inner atmosphere. From his position, he can start to see the slow curvature of the earth as he gazes out the cockpit window. The blue ball of strangereal, with a thin band of gasses trapped closely beneath its surface until it cuts off, and the dark blue fades into black ascending above it.
Below him, East Osea, and the many biomes that span across the subcontinent. The continental canvas painted in varying shades of green, gray, and beige. A large green backdrop with changing shades and hues of light and dark greens, intersected with sparse sands, and ultimately overshadowed by the gray of the northern Subcontinent’s mountains; the Utocistite Chubvlai’s pushing high above the horizon. Underneath his position fourty thousand miles above the planet, the light green of prairie grasses fly by, and is replaced by the dark green, rich Shérăn jungle.
He had already crossed the international border into foreign territory ten minutes ago, steaming past oppositional radar and anti-air stations placed along the border region, and now pushed into and through the outer ring of communist control across the sloping jungle. It was a straight shot from Sebáigé to Render-Huìhé across the subcontinent, where he would emerge from one enemy's airspace into another before finally reaching the tropical Emerald Ocean. His mission was simple: infiltrate, photograph, and escape. His route would take him over 500 miles of East Beiguojian territory- where he was expected to find the early prospecting and construction of a new, large oil pipeline being built in the subboreal regions along the Beiguojian-Thelenassian border.
Streaking across the night sky like a shooting star, the spy plane pushed onward. And in time, would activate his photographic equipment and document the canopy beneath him as he made a slight adjustment over the Húnshengdi River along his route- capturing photos of the dotted cities and towns intersected by a thick jungle like green and black lines of a colored sharpie. He focuses in on his photographic device as the lip of Qitum region hastily appeared- the place where the ground rises up steeply against the tropical forests that droop along the great coastal plain.
Miles out from the border, he activates his camera’s continual shutter, as a new divot in the jungle canopy aligns with his protracted course- and paves the way towards the Thelenassian border. A gray, steely band takes up fifty percent of the divot’s width, but stretches almost the entirety of the length. Its glimmer illuminated by construction lights, location, and context aligns everything to the conclusion already achieved by intelligence committees; the Thelenassians are starting to supply the East Beiguojians with oil, and installing the proper infrastructure to make the deal an indefinite endeavor.
As quick as he came, he flies across the night sky, and charts the growth and existence of the pipeline. East Beiguojia- the interboreal region- and a short sprint to the Emerald Ocean over the Tsoline peninsula- before slowing down after escaping to the blue expanse. He soon took the long route back, southwest around the tip of the subcontinent, northwest into the Sahaldna, and finally east towards the Comngchŭ Plain back in the continent’s interior.
When he lands, the plane’s photographic inventory will be logged and picked apart. The mission had been run by SIAM to confirm their suspicions, and with the pipeline on camera, they could move onto solutions to deal with the threat and its implications to the West. Hundreds of photos of a line stretching from the oil rich lands beyond Qitum and down into the Shérăn Jungle. The oil would flow, and blood with it.
…
Dhzòuzhegǔ, West Beiguojia
Spread among the great, green, Comngchŭ Plain, pockets of forests planted by the predecessors of Beiguojians exist- for access to lumber, to give variety to the ecosystem, and shelter their residences from the natural elements. For over a thousand years, these planted forests have acted as natural harbors for people amidst the tall grasses of the native plain.
In one of these ‘Pocket Forests’, in the middle of nowhere, the Voice of the Plains resides with their entourage of supporters. Their legacy is enormous within East Beiguojia- with the title being passed down from the leading commander of Partisan Forces in the grassy flatlands during the Beiguojian Civil War. Now, they act as a socialist figurehead for all Beiguojians, East or West. Yet in time, the voice remained hidden behind signals and intermediaries, and eventually grew distant and fell out of contact with the Lennhân-Marxist government- unwilling to fend with their autocratic rhetoric considering the voice’s dedication to the Free Agrarian worker.
Despite this, the Voice was still a key contact for any and all hidden Marxist movements within the West, and whether they knew it or not, they would regularly entertain contacts that were linked back to the government in Adalang. The mission of the revolution was eternal, whatever form it would take.
Hidden in a grove, five buildings round a single road stretching in and out from one route. They are equally large compared to the normal prairie-style buildings spread across the plain, and look more like boarding houses- with the whole composition with the added surrounding trees, piles of firewood, and other compliments giving it the appearance reminiscent of a Beiguojian Summer Camp.
Their black van slowly lurches inward, and by the time the trees open and full camp comes into view, a few people begin to walk out of one of the houses- eyeing the newly appearing vehicle. From inside the van, they watch the waist bands of the emerging group, some of them not subtly grabbing at the back of their pants where guns definitely lay holstered. The van came to a stop at the entrance of the gravel culdesac and rolled down its front windows on both sides where two men of medium build sat. On each side, a few of the gang walked up to the windows and eyed the fresh arrivals.
The men in the van spoke the famous phrase of the Beiguojian Socialist Movement during the start of the Beiguojian civil war- “To death, until freedom.”
“To harmony, from chaos.” One of the men outside the driver's side spoke back bluntly, eyeing the driver, as well as the few others who sat in the back row of seats and their otherwise blank and veiled expressions. “How can we help you?”
“We’ve heard a voice.” The driver spoke back, a lightness and glimmer of hope in his voice that settled any doubt in the follower’s minds.
The man outside the Van nods, “So have we… come.”
We’re so back!!
SR RP
The Raid
Isolated village in the Protectorate of Velaya 5:00 am
Looking outside he could see an orange glow in the distance along with smoke indicating that there was a fire in the area, the gunshots are more frequent now and he could see Villagers running toward their direction and then it happened he saw two Villagers being gunned down in the street both of them falling to the ground and then he turned back to the kids who were almost done collecting their things. Then another man,one of the villagers armed with a bolt action ran into the room sweating and breathing heavily “Ivan, hurry they are almost here!”, Ivan looked at the man and nodded and hurried the two kids along “go! go!” he said getting them into the living room as the gunshots continued outside the house, louder now as they entered the living space and the villager helping them moved a couch aside revealing a trap door and the villager lifted the door open as the kids and Ivan stood aside as it revealed a staircase, Ivan rushed the kids down as the villager handed him his rifle. “You'll be needing this my friend” the villager said to him as Ivan nodded to him “Thank you” Ivan then looked down at the kids “Volen! Zora! Go now I'm right behind you!” the two looked at him for a few moments before going on ahead as soon as loud crashing sound can be heard where the front door was, Ivan hurried down as the trap door shut behind him and a screeching sound can be heard signaling the couch was moved back. Ivan would soon reach the escape tunnel and would yell at Volen and Zora “run! run! don't stop!” and they wouldn't, even as the sound of near muffled automatic gunfire could now be heard behind them, it wouldn't be long now until they found the door to the tunnel so they just kept going, kept going until they cam reach the end.
We are so barack
WE ARE SO BARACK!
Ah yes I love when NS borks my posts
The clacking heels of his shiny black boots echo throughout the long hallway. The man passes the guards, and walks through the doorway to Wilhelm's study.
As the man enters the study, he is met by the potent scent of tobacco smoke. He walks over to the desk where Wilhelm reads a book,
“I have an urgent message for you, your majesty.”
Wilhelm closes the book and looks up at the man,
“Go ahead.”
The man, with a tone of unease in his voice, continues,
“The High Command wishes to notify you of a developing situation in Verusa. It regards our surveillance operation following the Northern Incident.
The bomber contingent we sent as a deterrent has been intercepted by an unidentified aircraft. No radar-bearing aircraft were within range of the bombers when I received this message. However, a fighter squadron off ENS Victory had successfully been launched and moved at full speed for intercept of the unidentified aircraft.
So far, the situation is deemed to be of minimal risk. However, it may escalate.”
Wilhelm leans his elbow against the desk, deeply contemplating the situation. Finally, he speaks, almost second-guessing every word as he carefully chooses what he says,
“Request that they return the remains of the downed jet, and allow us to aid them in locating the remains of Lieutenant Werner.
I want the 3rd Battle Fleet ready to sail for the waters outside Canineia. Have the entire 1st Battle Fleet go into emergency wartime readiness, but don't make a public statement about it. Make sure that if something happens, we have every asset of the 1st and 3rd fleets ready to hit Canineia. I also want the entire strategic air command ready to launch bombers and escort fighters, as well as all national defenses on 1-hour activation readiness. I'm not gonna take chances here, update me every 10 minutes, or when urgent.”
“Yes, sir,” the man walks out of Wilhelm's study, closing the doors behind him.
ENS Fortress, 1st Battle Fleet, Northern Tsyemny Sea, Verusa
Rear Admiral Ivan Donovan stands on the bridge of his dreadnought. He watches as helicopters take off from the ENS Victory, a mere mile away from his own ship.
His ship is not just any ship, the Emnarian dreadnought, ENS Fortress, is the flagship of its class. Its keel was laid in 1967, and it was commissioned in 1971. Built during the age of atomics, the Navy was obsessed with the unlimited range of nuclear powered ships. It was also the first ship to be mounted with CIWS systems in the Emnarian Navy (in 1989)
As the ship aged, it was retrofitted with even better equipment. SAM missiles were mounted in quad launchers across the superstructure, and the 17 inch guns of the ship were given improved electro-mechanical computer rangefinders, paired with radar. However, the most important change was the addition of 2 helicopters, of the UHM-58 model, and new artillery shells. These new shells are rocket-boosted, giving them a much increased range compared to traditional cordite-only shells. After the 1989 retrofit, the ship became the standard for fleet bombardment platforms in the Emnarian Navy.
The ship completed 13 combat patrols between 1971 and 2004. It has 48 confirmed vehicle kills, 2 ships sunk, and destroyed 11 artillery batteries. With its combat record, and potent armament, it’s become the pride of the Imperial Navy.
Yet, what may be even deadlier, is its commander. Donovan was born in 1979 in Kashimyra. His family was forced to log timber in the far north of Kashimyra. However, they weren't paid any money, instead, the Communist government paid them in food. But, after the mass agricultural fires of 1983, they only had enough food for a small meal once a day.
The Donovan family lost 4 of their 5 children. Ivan was the only survivor. When he turned 16 he enlisted in the Kashimyran Republican Navy to try and get some actual money. However, the food was still subpar. Being fed 2 potatoes and 3 ounces of sausage a day, he was almost starving.
However, by the age of 19, he had become captain of an aging light cruiser. On his first combat patrol, he encountered the Emnarian missile cruiser ENS Interceptor. At 3:18 A.M., the Interceptor, using its radar, located Donovan’s light cruiser, KRNS Kryenna. The Kryenna, under orders from Donovan, made a suicide run perpendicular to the ENS Interceptor. The 140mm bow and stern guns of the Interceptor opened fire. After 18 rounds, 2 hit the starboard side of the wheelhouse, killing 3 officers and 2 sailors on the Kryenna. Ivan Donovan waited until he was within 1 mile of the ENS Interceptor. Turning his cruiser hard to portside, he ordered that the deck torpedo launcher on the starboard side launch all 4 of its torpedoes. However, as the ship turned away, a 140mm shell from ENS Interceptor ripped through the engine room. The number 1 main and number 4 auxiliary engines were destroyed. The KRNS Kryenna limped away from it's target, still being bombarded by 140mm shell fire. Suddenly, 2 explosions rocked the Interceptor. Although 4 had been launched, 2 of the torpedoes were duds. The Interceptor began to list to port side, eventually listing as far as 28 degrees.
In 40 minutes, the ENS Interceptor sank, taking 48 sailors with it, and 1 officer. The survivors, except for 3, were taken on by the KRNS Kryenna. Donovan was awarded the People's Courage Medal by the Kashimyran Navy, only 3 of its kind. The KRNS Kryenna, under command of a different captain, was sunk in a large-scale engagement later that year.
In November of 2003, Donovan, spurred on by poor rationing and other effects from Emnarian bombing and blockading, defected to Emnaria. He was sentenced to 10 years in prison.
After the successful invasion of Kashimyra in 2004, Donovan was reclassified as a civilian prisoner of Emnaria, giving him citizenship. In June of 2014, he was officially released from prison, and allowed to enter a normal civilian life. However, he opted to go his own route, and joined the Imperial Emnarian Navy.
After a 3 month long review of his previous military career, he was given the position of Lieutenant Captain aboard an Emnarian destroyer, ENS Defender. Over the course of the next 7 years, his tactical prowess would prove itself in both training exercises, and maritime incidents. He eventually got promoted up to a Rear Admiral in September of 2021.
He had demonstrated in every way possible in a peacetime scenario, that he was one of the best commanders in the Navy. Paired with his demonstration of bravery and courage on his first of two combat patrols, the Navy came to favor the once troublesome enemy. He was put in command of the ENS Fortress in February of 2022.
Donovan has become one of the most skilled commanders in the Imperial Navy, and is the only commander to have a medal from a now defunct country.
His assignment to the 1st Battle Fleet has only served to strengthen its presence in the Tsyemny Sea. However, as he will soon be informed, he may add a third combat patrol to his record…
ENS Fortress’s Stern Deck, 1st Battle Fleet, Northern Tsyemny Sea, Verusa
The high pitched whining of jet-turbines muffles all conversation. The only way the sailors can communicate is through hand signals, or if they are lucky enough to have a radio.
As the pair of UHM-58 helicopters spool up their rotors, Rear Admiral Donovan makes his way towards the helicopter parked on the starboard side.
He climbs into the open side door of the helicopter, shaking hands with the pilot and co-pilot. Putting on a headset, he talks over the helicopter's internal radio. In his thick Kashimyran accent (slavic) he says to the pilots,
“It is good to see you again my friends!”
The co-pilot leans over in his seat to look back at Donovan,
“You as well. We're takin’ you to the Victory today, right?”
Donovan grins,
“Yes, yes. I have a meeting with the Admiral today.”
The co-pilot turns to look forward again, talking to the pilot as he works to prepare the helicopter for flight.
After 5 minutes of waiting, the helicopter finally lifts off, the second UHM-58 on the battleship following close behind.
As the helicopters touch down on the flight deck of the ENS Victory, the crew on the flight deck rush to secure the Rear Admiral.
War Room, ENS Victory, 1st Battle Fleet, Northern Tsyemny Sea, Verusa
Donovan walks into the dark octagonal shaped room. Admiral West and Emperor Wilhelm stand around a circular table, a map of the fleet and the entire Verusan theater surrounding it.
Wilhelm greets Donovan,
“Good. You've joined us.”
Donovan leans against the map table,
“So what the situation?”
Admiral West, not wasting a second, responds,
“The Canineians aren't backing down-”
Wilhelm interrupts the Admiral,
“I’ve ordered the military to be on standby for EWR. The Canineians haven't seemed to deploy any naval forces, but our bombers are reporting a light aircraft tailing them. Since you're a naval commander, I don't expect you to know, but they don't have radars onboard, they are far too old. So, we have a fighter squadron moving to intercept the aircraft. I believe they should engage in the next minute. We have a radio so you can hear their transmissions.”
The group listens intently, waiting for a radio transmission from the squadron…
12th Carrier Fighter Squadron, Northern Tsyemny Sea, Verusa
The squadron of 8 fighter jets fly in a tight arrowhead formation, high in the sky above the water.
As they fly on, squadron leader Captain Nathan Stevens and his RIO William McKearny keep a sharp eye on the horizon. Suddenly, RIO McKearny’s radar track alert begins to sound off. He looks down at his radar screen to see 5 white circles against a green background.
He radios to the rest of his squadron,
“Reaper Actual to Reaper Squadron. I have radar lock on our bombers. Announce when you have visual on unidentified aircraft. Set radar frequency scan range 7500-1450 MHz, azimuth scan range 24-68 degrees. We got 5 big bombers out there, watch your jet wash. Over.”
Simultaneously, the fighter jets of the squadron shut off their afterburners and spread their wings. Taking their own paths to surround the bomber squadron is a defensive circle of sorts. As they gather around the bombers, they slow down to match their speed.
Captain Stevens radios to the bomber squadron,
“This is Reaper Squadron Actual to Grim Reaper Squadron. The cavalry is here. Over.”
...
The government of the Emnarian Empire demands the following from the government of Canineia:
• The return of all debris and persons recovered from the recent wreck from ENS Victory.
• The full cooperation with the Emnarian Navy in search and rescue to locate the co-pilot.
• All logbooks, manuals, and other informational booklets/papers found inside of the aircraft, to be returned to the Imperial Navy.
• All debris, equipment, machinery, and other parts of the downed aircraft to be returned to the Imperial Navy, including the aircraft itself.
• Any and all aircraft to maintain a distance of 15 miles from Emnarian patrolling aircraft.
Emnaria is willing to do the following if terms are agreed to:
• not fly, sail, or drive any vehicles inside Canineian territorial waters.
• invest a 30 million dollar sum into the Canineian economy (as a sign of cordiality).
• Remove any and all spycraft from Canineian airspace.
• Remove the EWR status from the military
Sharaf woke up on a cold platform surrounded by rocks.
"You there, traveler." a voice uttered in the darkness.
"What... whe... where am I?" Sharaf asked.
"You have reached the place where all Zyfaqir resides after death until Judgment Day. I am merely an arbiter of two to judge your worth." the voice said.
"So... this is... Death, I speak to?" Sharaf asked.
"Yes. Of a sorts" the voice said.
"I see... it was... painful arriving here." Sharaf lamented.
"Of course it was. Do you have any recollection of your crimes?" Death said.
Sharaf stayed silent.
"Silence will not abate your fate. You will be judged, and your worth weighed against your crimes." Death said.
Sharaf stayed silent.
"Come here." Death said.
Sharaf levitated off the ground and appeared in a new room, with two people in red and blue suits respectively.
"You can figure out who we are, Sharaf." The two said in sync.
"Death and Life. The epitome of existence itself." Sharaf answered.
"Correct." The two said. "Now... shall we begin?"
"I suppose..."
“Good. You have… well… quite the reputation.” the two began.
Sharaf looked at the floor.
“For even some of your lighter crimes, this would put you in eternal suffering.” the two said.
“Yes…” Sharaf trailed off.
“However… there is another path.” the two said.
Sharaf looked up.
“We could send you in the form of a spiritual being to repent your sins and make amends.” the two said.
“What benefit would that do?” Sharaf said. “My crimes are inexcusable and I cannot repent them.”
“We are offering a chance at redemption.” the two said.
“Redemption…” Sharaf trailed off.
Haijja
Sumoriant
Presidential Palace
Jazaar perused over the mountain of paperwork in front of him. He took a swig of wine from the bottle beside him and clacked notes onto his computer.
And Sharaf appeared in front of him.
“Hello, old friend.” Sharaf said.
Jazaar dropped the bottle of wine and it shattered on the floor.
“Wha… there's no… h…” Jazaar trailed off in a startled and confused expression.
“It's been some time.” Sharaf said.
“I… how… why are…” Jazaar said. “This has to be my schizophrenia acting up again… how… How the f**k are you here?!”
“That's not important. All that's important is that I have come back for one simple reason: redemption.” Sharaf said.
“Yeah, bulls**t.” Jazaar said, pulling a revolver out of his desk drawer, cocking the trigger. “You have about five seconds to leave before I pull this trigger and fifty armed guards swarm this room.”
“I… I only wanted to try to make amends, but… I see that time has passed.” Sharaf said, disappearing into thin air.
Jazaar laid the revolver down on the desk in utter shock. This couldn't be real. Had he really just seen a dead man in front of him, alive and well? What the hell was Sharaf talking about with “redemption?”
Jazaar looked down at the floor, at the puddle of wine and shattered glass.
“I suppose I should get this cleaned up…” he said to himself.
We're back in business :3
Heck yeah
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