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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)
Council
Sargassian: Türük İşbirliği Konseyi
Badul:
Sardian:
[Flag Here] [Emblem Here]
Motto: Harmony in Diversity, Strength in Unity
Full SR Map Blank
Official Languages:
Ikaş
Badulex.
Working language: Strangrealic
Other Languages:
Representatives
Àrman Chagatai
Levni Kadare
Dilraba LiyaUlvi Aldemir
Establishment:
Total Area:
Population:
Footnotes:
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.
“The f*ck did you do?!”
“Sir, I wasn't sure of my orders. I simply didn't want to start a war over our fighter jet.”
Wilhelm slams his fist on the wooden desk in front of him, it echoes through the metal walls of the aircraft carrier,
“You let them take the thing! Are you stupid?!”
The admiral instinctively tries to step forward, but restrains himself and remains at parade rest,
“Sir, my best interest was saving the life of the pilot. I considered further recovery efforts to be too provocative, and without an order for wartime patrol readiness, I was unwilling to risk further conflict.”
Wilhelm sits quietly, his eyes fixed on the wood grain of the desk. The cold silence fills the room as he contemplates the situation. After a tense minute, Wilhelm speaks,
“Okay, I see. However, we still have a frontline service fighter jet in the hands of the Canineians. We mind as well just hand our air corps over so they can study it… that was a joke, don't do that.
Do you think an SSRAM could fly over Canineia undetected?”
The admiral pauses for a moment. Suddenly he begins to smile, as if a light bulb were flicked on in his head,
“Yes it can sir. Yes!”
Wilhelm's face wears a look of confusion,
“What?”
The admiral begins to excitedly explain,
“We have an insurance plan.
If we fly a single SSRAM-69 over Canineia, it is highly unlikely it'll be detected. However, there is always a slight chance it is detected by radar. So, they could shoot it down and call us the aggressors.
But, we have an ace up our sleeve. We have the SIBM-46T. Yeah sure, it's old and slow, but it's got great range, and most importantly, nuclear capability.
I'm not saying we have to arm them with nuclear weapons… but, the Canineians won't know that.
We fly 5 of those bombers just outside Canineian waters to ‘survey the ocean and scan for debris from the crash'. At least, that would be our diplomatic excuse. Really, those bombers are there to intimidate the Canineians, while we fly an SSRAM-69 high in the atmosphere above Canineia. Likely, they don't detect it, and just think we're flying strategic bombers near them.
We say the bombers have recon equipment like cameras and emergency transponder signal triangulation equipment. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, we get great quality surveillance from the spy plane overhead.
If they do anything with that aircraft, we'll know about it…”
Wilhelm's eyebrows clench together as he ponders the idea. Suddenly he asks,
“What should we call it?”
“Pardon me sir?”
“What should we call the operation?”
The admiral falls silent for a moment,
“Operation Flying Pig”
...
March 17th, 2024
ACB McPherson, Konstaht Outskirts, Emnaria
“Iron Angel”... “Giant of the skies”... These planes have more nicknames and monikers than you could count on two hands. Yet, as they roll down the tarmac, engines roaring at full power, none of these names can describe the experience.
Of course, to the local civilian, the resulting rattling windows and shaky couch of one of these aircraft taking off is less than ideal. Yet, the vibrations aren't the biggest problem.
The biggest problem, for all involved, is the noise of the 6 massive pusher propeller engines. The droning of these engines can be heard up to 28 miles away.
These massive aircraft of course, are the Strategic Intercontinental Bomber Model 1946 Variant “T”, more commonly known as the “Archangel”.
5 of the bombers takeoff from ACB McPherson, the namesake himself being a fan of the aircraft. McPherson base is the headquarters of the Imperial Strategic Air Command, and the largest operational base of SIBM-46T bombers, basing 207 of these aircraft. It is also the base for the Emergency Wartime Readiness Squadron (EWRS), which maintains a detachment of bombers ready to takeoff at all times, and participates in the “Big Stick Doctrine”.
Over 8 hours, the bombers fly across the Tsyemny Sea, meeting a n aerial refueling tanker when they reach the 1st Battle Fleet outside of Canineian waters. They refuel and immediately head for their objective. The bombers fly in a straight line, one behind the other. Yet, unlike the Air Corps will state, they aren’t taking photographs of possible aircraft debris: they don't even have cameras. No, instead, their crews are nervously waiting, payload secure. Not a soul outside of them, the Air Corps generals, and the SSRAM-69 pilot knows about the bombers’ payload… 5 bombers, 5 nuclear bombs. But, every soul onboard is hoping they won't get the radio transmission, the signal, the possible outbreak of the worst war in Emnarian history… “Grim Reaper Squadron, light ‘em up”.
For hours, they fly back and forth along the border, nervously waiting to see what will happen. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to anyone, a lone SSRAM-69, the most advanced spycraft of Emnaria, flies in the low atmosphere above Canineia, its analog 120mm camera lense, with 240 lines per millimeter, takes the highly detailed photographs the IEM is looking for. These photos will give the High Command valuable intel on what exactly the Canineians are doing with this aircraft, and possibly, how much they’ll learn about it.
It's a massive gamble, if the aircraft somehow is detected, it could ruin the whole operation. However, as far as the IEM is concerned, this plane should be almost impossible to detect, and if detected, with its Mach 3+ top speed, it should be able to outrun any missile that can reach 75,000 feet. And hopefully, since the existence of the aircraft isn't even released to a regular security clearance, and practically classified to anyone except the highest ranking generals in the IEM, the Canineians won't even know what it is. It also has a significantly smaller radar cross-section than a fighter jet. But still, everyone holds their breath.
Between even the slight chance of the SSRAM-69 being shot down, and the intimidation the nuclear-capable bombers achieve, the situation could easily cause a war. However, it could also go smoothly, and be an operation which won't be known by the public until long after it's happened, and seem like just another day in history.
Either way, this incident has demonstrated a major security problem for the Navy, and overconfidence in the superiority of the IEM over Canineia. The amount of bureaucracy and investigations to pursue, would make Richard Nixon blush- wait, who is that, you ask? Don't worry about it. Let's just say he's not exactly in StrangeReal… yeah.
Regarding the recent loss of IEM property in Canineian national waters,
The aircraft in question was part of the 40th Carrier Fighter Detachment, stationed aboard ENS Victory. The aircraft, piloted by Captain Harris, along with his wingman, was performing a routine reconnaissance flight within the regular radius of 140 miles of the 1st Battle Fleet while in return from Svipjoth. These flights are performed to ensure the safety and security of Imperial Navy assets while in transit.
At approximately 8:40 P.M. Konstaht Standard Time, Captain Harris suffered, as self-reported, an engine unstart caused by engine 2’s compressor. The aircraft, as observed by wingman Lieutenant Pearson, entered a self-induced flat spin and began to rapidly lose altitude. To the relief of the IEM, their low altitude prevented too rapid of altitude loss before making contact with the water. Sadly, Captain Harris’s ejection seat failed to eject after the canopy tore off, and him and his copilot, Lieutenant Michael A. Werner, were stuck inside of the aircraft as it hit the water. With the canopy detached, Pearson watched as water filled the cockpit of Harris’s aircraft. Harris was able to unfasten his seat harness, and escape the aircraft. Sadly, Lieutenant Werner was not.
As last reported by Lieutenant Pearson, as he reported the location of his wingman to an AWACS aircraft controlling airspace around ENS Victory, “Mayday, mayday! Sparrow Seven is down! I say again, Sparrow Seven is down! Location Sector Delta Seven, Sector Delta Seven, 20 minutes North by East. Send medevac now! Over.”
Efforts by helicopters aboard ENS Victory and rescue crew resulted in the successful recovery of Captain Harris. He has made good progress in recovery, and will be deployed again in 2 months.
Further reconnaissance of the area is being performed to find further debris, and possibly the remains of Lieutenant Werner.
As soon as more information is gathered, a new statement will be released.
(The preceding statement is public knowledge to all nations)
SR;RP
Homeland Strategic Defence Command, Directorate of Defence Building, Canidae Harbour
General Snowfield rushed through the halls of the Directorate towards the main command centre, he had been contacted by the staff in there to a Red Threat Level event off the coast which regards aerial combat and so he rushed in from his home in Skulland.
He bursts into the large room seemingly unnoticed as everyone was focused on their individual tasks, the large board at the front of the room showed a map of Canineia and what seemed to be five red targets just outside the indication for Canineian airspace. He rushed down to the main discussion table located at the centre of the room, where some Colonels and Admiral Hampton stood looking at the board.
“Colonel catch me up here” The General announces as he arrives at the table, causing everyone to look up for a brief second before continuing their tasks.
“General! We are tracking five Emnarian aircraft circling just outside our airspace, by the looks of them on radar they are long range strategic bombers, the ones that would carry a nuclear payload” The Colonel explains quickly.
“F##k me” The General says with shock, “Has the Council been informed?”
“Yessir, the King and a few other members are on their way now. We have also scrambled fighters to intercept if they make a run for the mainland, anti-aircraft stations along the coast are on high alert and we have informed the Admiral Yellows on the Golden Hound.”
Admiral Hampton steps in
“If this turns into the war that we think it is, she has first strike capabilities, our launch station at Eclipse Island has also been told to prep their payload. Oh, and the King should be arriving now”.
Suddenly the doors to the room swung open, banging against the doorstop so loud the entire room went silent for just a moment before the King’s yelling took over.
“Can someone tell why there are nuclear strato-bombers buzzing us!!”
“He’s pissed” The Admiral remarks.
The King was followed by Prime Minister Joskull, Premier Strovosky and President Fluffy. They reached the table where the General gave an explanation.
“Well, your majesty, I assume the Emnarians are giving us a show of force after the whole debacle with their jet”
The King folds his arms and says in an angry tone
“Really now? That’s interesting, NO S##T”
“Cooper calm down your not helping” he pats the King on the shoulder before looking at the military staff, “What are you doing to counter?”
The original Colonel replied
“We have deployed fighters to monitor their movement from our airspace and to intercept them if they try anything but so far they’re circling around our coast”
“Is there not anything else you can do?”
The General replies with an idea, “There is one thing”
The King now in a calmer manner looks over at him and goes
“You don’t mean…..”
“Nightwing your majesty”
The table fell silent, the noise of buttons clicking, papers rustling and people rushing took over as the King thought.
“Do it”
Tysemny Sea off the coast of Canineia, International Airspace
One of the five bomber planes was casually flying through the sky, they were surrounded by thick white fluffy clouds, a grey floating fortress which stood out among the natural beauty provided by Eyar. The white clouds made the sky seem like a forest, the place where the wolfpack hunts its prey.
The crew of the bomber would quickly gain the fright of their lives as out of complete no where a black object approached and shot past them, what seemed like a black jet coming at them head on flying so close the pilots could’ve locked eyes for a short nanosecond, before the jet was gone.
The crew would have no idea what it was, it did not appear on any radar instruments and their eyes did not see it until the last possible second. The question now was, where did it go?
A question which was shortly answered when they saw it tailing them, a fighter jet which came out of nowhere just sat there behind them, what was it doing? Was it getting ready to attack or just watching them? Why did it not appear on radar? And more importantly, was there more?
SR;RP
A warship carrying the Consul Sol Cerium Narag arrives locking its weapons after entering Canineian Waters. The ship is an impressive missile cruiser of an older design. Sol steps down the stairs awaiting to be greeted. "Hopefully the Warship is not taken a wrong way."
While the Canineians were sceptical about a warship entering their waters once nearby Destroyer saw it was a Naragian ship it was fine. A few more destroyers and other ships guided the cruiser into the Port of Canidae Harbour where the King was awaiting the arrival of the consul.
The Port was full of press, news reporters and soldiers all guarding the King and watching over the cruiser which had brought the Consul.
The King began to walk towards the consul followed by some of his soldiers.
Consul Sol walks forward his two obsidian swords on his back sheathed. "Honor To you and your family fair king. I am Consul Sol Cerium Narag of the Second Naragian Republic. Also, the former prince of the First Empire. It is my honour to visit your people." He passes his blades to the finely dressed admiral next to him. "Keep those blades safe admiral." The admiral bows respectfully before returning to the ship.
The Soldiers behind the King stood at a stance at the sight of the swords, sniffing the air around the consul but did not raise their own weapons.
The King smiles as he watched the Consul hand away his swords.
"Greetings to you too Consul, I am King Cooper Fluffy of the Federal Kingdom of Canineia. It is an honour to have you visit our nation and its people are excited to have you here".
Sol bows. His nine tails swishing as he does. They are very fluffy Today. "Well then. shall we continue with the visit? I am a bit excited as I have never left my homeland in all my eighteen Years."
"Of course, right this way we have transport ready to take us to our capitol building, Canidae Castle.”
The King begins to walk towards the convoy of vehicles parked at the end of the pier in front of a crowd of flashing lights.
As they are walking the King asks the Consul
"You are only 18 years of age?"
Sol Follows Him Nodding, "Yes. Not sure how I became Consul, but it may have to do with the fact I am a royal and uh.... according to my wives half the republic's women want to marry me.... sometimes I hate being a royal."
He pauses before speaking again, "Sorry I have a habit of losing focus on the subject. Yes. I am eighteen but I was born to be emperor, so I received a lot of Education to Run the nation."
"Yet, you are a consul, here people who turn 18 go out drinking all day, they go on road trips and have fun they do all the crazy stuff to celebrate ending their school lives. Should you not be doing that?"
Sol Nods, "I Really should but I was Raised To put the Nation First over my own happiness, So I Have never thought about it that way. It is something to think about."
"Perhaps you will learn a thing from here, loyalty is a great thing we are all thought to have, but loyalty can also lead to downfall, but we are here to talk about our nations interests."
They reach the cars and King Fluffy opens the door to a black SUV inviting the Consul to enter as reporters yell out their questions and flash their cameras.
Sol Nods, "I Really should but I was Raised To put the Nation First over my own happiness, So I Have never thought about it that way. It is something to think about.”
Sol Nods, "I Really should but I was Raised To put the Nation First over my own happiness, So I Have never thought about it that way. It is something to think about."
"Perhaps you will learn a thing from here, loyalty is a great thing we are all thought to have, but loyalty can also lead to downfall, but we are here to talk about our nations interests."
They reach the cars and King Fluffy opens the door to a black SUV inviting the Consul to enter as reporters yell out their questions and flash their cameras.
Sol Gets in the Car. "Indeed. business first only after our discussions are done can more casual discussions start." (edited)
The King gets in after him and closes the door.
"Indeed, be sure to take in some of the sights on our way there, Canidae Harbour is truly a beautiful city."
The convoy sets off, bringing the Consul through the port tunnel from Dogton to Union North, down along the Western Circular Road, through Great Lights Plaza and passing many historical buildings but also many modern ones.
Sol Nods looking out the Window. "Reminds me of Port Narag. On a clear day you can make out the massive sea gate at the pillars of Aura. The Twin Colossi Built out of Jade with a Marble Base Acting like Guardian Statues in front of the port. One Colossus is of my grandfather Astril Narag the Great, and the other Colossus is of My Wife Sarlum Aura's Ancestor. Still this port has a natural Beauty That Port Narag Can Not Compare To."
He looks at the old and new buildings, "Your city reminds me of Fortress Narag. The oldest City on my island." (edited)
"Well, Canidae Harbour is the oldest city in Canineia, we don’t know when it was built but it was a long time ago."
Out over the bay a wide range of views could be had including a large statue on a tall hill and United Bridge standing tall among the other islands.
"Saviors Monument is the closest thing we have to giant statues”.
Sol smiles, "It is a lovely View. I was not meaning to brag. My Capital has been around Since Four Thousand BC. Almost six thousand years. It's size today is half my nation... I have always preferred Natural Wonders over manmade wonders, But I grew up in The, Ancient District of Fortress Narag So I was Surrounded by City Ranging from Marble Structures to Titan steel Buildings."
He sighs pulling a Camera taking a Photo of the Harbor. "The Harbor is lovely. I could build a summer Palace there if I did not already have four."
"Hm speak to some realtors over in Skulland, they'd be more than happy to sell you a waterfront house, or even something larger out in the country, Foxland has fields as far as you can see, Huskin is beautiful during the winter, Collie Isles has beautiful beaches and West Highlands with massive mountains. Theres natural beauty anywhere in the world you just have to know where to look."
The convoy arrives at Castleview Gardens where it takes a small road to the bridge gates. Canidae Castle is located across on an island connected by an old stone bridge with artistic styles all over it.
Consul sol smiles. Looking at the art style of the bridge. “Nice to see a culture that enjoys art. I might have to invite The Canineians to Tour Fortress Narag. Much of the city was designed to be aesthetically pleasing. The Blue palace especially. It is the residence of all one hundred or so members of my family.”
"Wow a hundred, I barely get on with one" the King laughs a little
"I'll be sure to visit this city it does sound rather large much bigger than anything here."
After crossing the bridge, the convoy finally arrives in the castle compound. In front of them the main building with its massive tower in the centre which held the council chambers and Kings office.
“Well, my race lives for a few centuries and takes multiple spouses so the Narag Dynasty has a lot of living members.”
Sol steps out of the car. “Lovely Castle. I shall follow you, Your majesty.”
The King also steps out and goes around to the other side of the car.
"Of course,"
The King walks into the castle followed by the Consul, the inside had many old pictures and portraits of past battles, former Kings and famous government members.
"Now our Governing body the Canine Security Council has asked that you give a small speech to them about bettering relations, of course you do not have to do this a meeting between us is fine."
Sol thinks for a moment as he walks. “Never given a speech before but I Wrote my Wife’s speeches as she Is Consul of Interior for my nation. I will give it a try.”
He looks around at all the pictures. “Reminds of the Throne room of the Jade Palace. Famous emperors have Paintings of them in it. Though The Imperial Square has a marble Statue of Every Emperor since Theo Narag. Think there has been ten Emperors prior to me Since fifty AD.”
"Hm your people live for a long time" The King said as they walked towards his office.
"Only ten emperors in your entire lifespan?"
“Only ten emperors in almost two thousand years. We live for around four hundred years, but most emperors abdicate around three hundred to spend their last century with their family.” (edited)
"Wow, you really have time on your side then”.
The King was surprised as he opened the door into his office and invited the Consul in
Sol Walks into The Kings officer, "Yes... It is why I feel bad for my grandfather. He Married a Human With the promise of never taking another woman And He’s been alone Since she passed away. My Father stays with him now though. A Long life is great but also has it's burdens."
"Naragians are a Communal Race. We have huge families where all the Adults raise the children Together. Each Generation is Raised not as just Cousins but as Siblings. Every Adult is Considered a Parent or Grandparent of All the Children." (edited)
"Wow that’s certainly interesting, so you’re all related then. In my eyes comradeship is one of the most important attributes anyone can have but familial comradeship, that’s unbreakable.
The King goes over to a table and grabs a bottle of Dryskull whiskey.
"Drink?"
Sol nods, "A Drink would be good. As To your question yes. I know it is strange but most naragians never stray far from there family."
"What happens for the likes of university and careers across the country then?"
The King poured the drinks and gave one to the emperor.
Consul sol nods. "Education is free in the empire and most people work as usual. While families do stick together it is perfectly normal to move elsewhere to start a family too. After All, if you live in the city, it is hard to have a home capable if fitting up to four generations." He slowly starts drinking The Alcohol.
The King sits down at his desk and leaves the glass on it.
"You see here we move around quite a lot, I come from New Skullia, which is in the far north, far away from here, my family still live on the farm I grew up on, yet I live here in the capital."
Sol seems surprised, "A Non-Hereditary Monarchy? How interesting. My Family almost never left The Holy Province. The heart of the empire."
"Oh yes we are not the monarchy you think we are, every 5 years the nation elects a new King, king is a gender-neutral term here. Kings serve in 5-year terms but serve indefinite terms so long as they are re-elected. King McKenzie served 5 terms across 25 years”.
Sol Nods, "We are no longer a Monarchy ourselves. My Nation has Term Limits for our Parliament. Consuls Can only be elected Twice in a Row Before having to wait ten years To Run Again. Each term is Ten years long For the Consul. I Never intended To Run for Consul ship, but a People begged me to, so I did."
"Well, that's quite interesting, how ling into your Consulship are you?"
Sol drinks some more of his glass, "Less than a year. Though I have a feeling it will be twenty years before I can Take some time off from being consul." (edited)
"Well, if McKenzie can so it so can you!"
The King drinks from his glass
Sol nods, "So Shall we begin the proper meeting. I mean I do not mind chatting, but you are the Nation’s leader I am sure you are busy."
"Yes, let us begin, what would you like to discuss first?"
The King took out a notebook and a pen.
Sol nods. "Perhaps How to better increase Free Trade. My nation has always had protectionist policies, But I am hoping To Change that."
"Ah yes free trade is rather important, what kind of protectionist policies does your country have?"
"A Great many of tariffs on goods we produce. Also, Foreign Coffee is still illegal."
"Well, we do produce coffee in artificial warehouses but mostly for interior sales so that’s not a problem, what good does Narag produce then?"
"A Lot of Ores and Heavy industry. We Also produce Four Variants of our Famous Coffee. We Could use a lot more Luxury Goods To be honest. We were making do with what we had due to the now abolished policy or autarky. We lack Silk which is one of our issues as it had to be smuggled into the Nation to Sustain my mother's Love for Silk Clothing."
"Well, Canineia is also famous for its raw materials and manufactured goods, we produce a lot of vehicles, electronics, textiles and I do know of a few companies which sell silk but not a lot of them, we do have a lot of jewellery so that’s a bonus”.
The King wrote a few things down on paper and took a sip from his drink once again.
Sol drinks more of his Drink before relaxing. "My nation could drop tariffs to trade more freely with yours. I see many benefits."
"The Council will be pleased to hear that, what else would you like to discuss?"
The King writes down another note.
Sol Thinks For a moment. "Perhaps a cultural Exchange. I would like to propose Some Naragian Students Can Come to your Nation To study. My Home Island is very crowded. A lot of young people wish To Travel the world, but past Experiences with the Sea peoples Have scared them from leaving. Of Course, Your people would be welcome to visit too. And Attend our Schools."
"Oh yes, we actually have plenty of Foreign influence in our universities I'm sure all kinds of students would love to travel to Narag and I'm sure plenty of secondary school students would live to as well. As for Naragians they are more than welcome in our colleges they'll have great fun outside of studies."
Sol finishes his drink, “That is good. World history is something lacking in our schools due to thousands of years of isolation. This will be more helpful than you realize.”
"This will also be helpful for ours as well, your nation sounds like it has plenty of historical buildings to study, much older than ours."
"Very Good. I am surprised your nation is so Accepting. It is a breath of fresh air. My Race as we get older Get large Fang like canines That jut out of our muzzle. We are commonly mistaken As Monsters to outsiders."
"The word Monster was actually used as an insult here when the Orderists were in control. The Glowing eyes, the ears and tail all while keeping the appearance of a human. It's a nice break to see a nation like ours, ran by a species other than humans."
Sol Smiles, "Is there anything you want from my nation perhaps?"
The King finishes his drink which was sitting there for the past while.
"One of the council members has asked for military cooperation to some extent, you see we are very secretive about our military equipment and ranks and such but it could be beneficial for both our militaries to operate together in some operations, also considering we are far enough away from the main SSTO force I do believe it’s fair"
Sol Nods, "I believe That is doable. Though our Army is smaller than most We do have a sizeable Air Force and Navy. We prefer quality over quantity. It is more cost effective."
"We do as well, we like our generals to be strategic rather than hot headed, small force big damage sort of deal."
Sol Nods. "I will have to bring this to our Senate, The Kristan. However, I do think it will be Accepted."
"Wonderful, speaking of which would you like to give a speech to the Council" The King asks with a smile on his face.
Sol Looks at him, "It won't Be the most spectacular Speech, but I can do it."
"Good, it's better than speaking in front of the Senate trust me."
The King stands up and puts the notebook into one of the drawers on his desk.
Sol stands up looking at him. "After you."
The King walks towards the door and exits it prompting the Consul to follow out behind him.
The hallway to the council chambers was like everywhere else filled with pictures, luckily it was a short walk to the chamber doors.
Consul Sol Follows him quietly thinking of what to say.
"Do you want some time to plan? There is a meeting room over there which is used to plan speeches.
The King points to a door behind the Consul.
Sol smiles, “I got this. Well, I should be fine with my Training I had growing up."
"Brilliant then"
The King opens the door to the chambers where the other council members sat on either side of the large room, everyone inside of it perked their ears up and looked at the Consul, awaiting his speech.
Sol Stands before them, "My people Have always preferred isolation. Even Now as Members of SSTO They are fearful of the world outside our island. In the past We Has Three invasions of our island. While we fought them off The Final one Made us realize We Can not remain Isolationist. When they had almost Breached the Titan steel walls of Fortress Narag..." He pauses. "I came Here to Meet a Race Similar to my own. A potential Ally. I Found not only an Ally but A Friend. Canineia is Truly a wonderous place. That Coming from the Grandson of Astril Narag. My Experiences Here will bring About a New Future for My People I Can not thank your Nation Enough. Hopefully Now my people will See There are more than Enemies Across the Sea." He bows awaiting any Questions.
The members of the council filled the room with their claps and cheers before calming down allowing the Administrator General to announce
"Does anyone have any questions for the Consul?"
The President of the Collie Isles stood up.
"Consul Sol, you said your nation had four separate invasion attempts and you repelled everyone, yet the last one seemed to scare you, do you know who these invaders are and when they last invaded?"
Sol Shakes his head, "I Do not know. I do know they were different From the Slavers my House Dealt with before. They had Tech only slightly behind ours. This was the Time we change from calling them Sea people To Barbari or Barbarians in your language. After we kicked them off the island The Imperial Navy Sunk the Enemy Fleet As it retreated. We never had contact with those peoples again. What my father told me is They took no prisoners. Man, Woman, Child... Were killed Brutally.... Well, they learned The Hard War That their Actions Brought about their Defeat. The War Unified Every Man woman and Child Against the Enemy."
"Thank you, Consul,”.
The President sat back down but then President McHuntington from Foxland stood up.
"You took no prisoners at all? Not even the wounded?"
Sol Sighs, "It was a Different time. We Acted Dishonourably and Shamed our ancestors. We took prisoners But the Anger by The Common Naragian led to them Being Ripped apart. The Attack happened Around the Time of the Winter Solstice. That is the time of year when most Children in our nation are Born. Our Races instincts to protect our young took over like a Mother Bear protects its cubs. We Remember This Time as a Reason to Control our Natural instincts. We must never commit such Dishonour again. Honor is very important to my people. It was one of the Founding principles of the Empire."
"Hm thank you Consul."
The President sits down, and the Administrator asked.
"Any further questions?"
No response
"Consul, we thank you for your speech and answer to our questions, I speak on behalf of the council to say we are looking forward to future relations between us”.
Consul Sol gives a respectful bow. “It was my pleasure Honoured Council.”
The King prompts the Consul to follow him out. For now, the meetings were over.
Consul Sol Follows him out.
"That was a good speech, I'm sorry if some of the members made you feel uncomfortable."
“It is alright. I did not live through that invasion like my grandfather did.” (edited)
"Ah very well then. If you would like to stay in Canineia we have accommodation for you at the Poodleton Hotel"
Consul Sol nods. “Just for one night. Then I must return how to discuss our proposals with the Kristan.”
"Good, well I must go, there is a growing situation that I must attend, if you would like to wait a few moments I will leave you in the care of Emperor Bluefield of Frontin, his state has a thriving medical industry that could benefit you and your country and of course he will take you to your accommodation. Until then it was nice to meet you, Consul.
The King holds out his hand to shake.
Sol shakes his hand before receiving a call. He seems shocked. “Seems I need to return home. My primary wife is in labour. Farewell friend I’ll find my way back to my ship.”
The King had a look of shock on him.
"Oh, okay then the cars will take you back to your ship quickly”.
Sol smiles, "That would be good. Thank you, King."
"Thank you, Consul," the King smiles back.
Sol Departs in a car heading for his ship. And heading home.
SNS Jafar
Saturday, September 7, 2024
I leaned on the railing of the port bow and looked out at the Emerald Ocean. So clear this afternoon.
“Lieutenant.”
“Yeah?”
“Major needs you on Bridge Wing A05.”
“Got it.”
I started heading up to the bridge, still trying to keep my gaze on the ocean. It's too clear.
“Major Hakeem.” I said.
“Omar. Good. You made it. Have a seat.” the Major said, gesturing to the seat across from him.
“Sure.” I said, taking a seat. “I wasn't given any details on what this was.”
“Just a general assessment. Nothing crazy.” Major Hakeem said, trying to reassure me. “Just a mental health assessment.”
“Ah… one of those, hmm?” I said, half-sarcastically.
“Yes. As much as I wish we didn't have to do these, it's standard protocol.” Major Hakeem said, ignoring my sarcastic response. “Now… let us begin. Have you had any thoughts of hurting yourself or others?”
“No.” I said.
“Any thoughts of depression or worse?”
“No.”
“Any unusual changes in your behavior or any health issues that you've noticed?”
“No.”
“Good. Well, that's all I have for you. You can go back to your break.” Major Hakeem finished.
“Of course, sir.” I said, shaking Major Hakeem's hand before leaving the room.
I walked back to the port bow and leaned on the rail, lighting a cigar. Apparently of Hetzegell make. Pretty good, all things considered.
As my mind wandered, I thought about what the folks back in Sumoriant proper were doing. Politics? Not my kind of battle. The military is strictly obeying orders. That I can do. Politics is not made for obeying orders. Politics is made for the stupid and deluded who believe they can handle their greedy instincts. Usually it turns out they can't, but oh well.
I left the bow to return to manning the main batteries on the back of the ship, and conduct routine maintenance and ensure they are in working order.
Engine room
2.5 hours later
Sweltering heat. Shoveling. The SNS Jafar was one of the only ships within the Sumori Republican Navy that still utilized coal power, and it suffered performance-wise because of it. One wrong placed cigar or fire… and the whole complex would go up in flames.
“Gonna go take a smoke break.” one of the engineers said.
“All right. Don't be gone too long. Ain't covering for you if you gone fo’ a long time.” another answered.
The engineer stepped up to the platform above the engine room, getting some peace from the noise, though it still permeated every corner of his hearing. He lit a cigarette, and leaned on the rail. He flicked pieces off as it burned, and they fell towards the ground. He finished smoking the cigarette and tossed it down to the engine room…
The coal went up in flames.
Engineers scrambled to flee the area, but the fire was growing too quickly. The engineer who had tossed the cigarette quickly fled to a phone alert the captain and the officers aboard. At the same time…
Water had burst through the hull.
“Captain! Captain!” the engineer shouted through the phone.
“Who is this?” The captain asked.
“My name is Mayarbadan Kargash. I am an engineer down on Engine Room C. A fire has broken out and water is breaking through the hull. OH GO-”
The phone cut out. The captain was left in shock and horror as his officers worriedly looked at each other.
“A fire? What do you think, captain?”
“Let's assess the situation… Please see to it that Engine Room C is evacuated as soon as possib-”
“Captain… the bulkheads.”
The bulkhead chart showed ER-C compromised.
“S**t… he wasn't lying… did the phone cut because… the hull burst?” one of the officers said.
“Contact the Jazein Fusea Fleet command. First Officer, steer us in the direction of Haijja.” the captain ordered.
“Of course, sir.” the First Officer said.
“Good… good…” the captain trailed off.
ER-C
“Get the hell out of here! This Room is flooding quicker than we can control! Contact the bridge and tell them to shut the f**king bulkheads!” an engineer shouted.
“What is going on?!” another shouted.
Bridge
“We're getting a call from ER-B. Shall I patch it through, captain?” an officer said.
“Yes. Let me see.” the captain said.
“Captain! Anyone who can hear this! Seal the bulkheads immediately! ER-C is halfway flooded and ER-B is starting to fill with water! Fire has ignited the coals and there's utter madness down here! Please do something!”
“Good lord… Zuraara above…” the captain exclaimed quietly. “We will seal the bulkheads. Evacuate as many of your comrades as you can to higher levels. We will send aid as soon as we can.”
“Thank you!” the phone line went silent.
“Seal the bulkheads.” the captain said.
“Sir, this ship won't survive flooding more than two of the engine rooms… and judging from the fact that two of them are flooding…” an officer worriedly began.
“We are not sinking.” the captain said. “But… prepare any lifeboat vessels we have.”
Personal Quarters
I woke up to the sounds of running and shouting. What the hell? I got up and walked out of the room. People were running and clamoring over one another towards the main deck. Why would they be running?... Training exercise? No. They wouldn't be running that quickly. Fending off an enemy? No. Sumoriant isn't at war. We would have known. Sinking? No- wait… oh no…
I began running with them, but trying to get to the engine room. I saw fire and water turning into steam. The SNS Jafar is sinking. Serves it right, being a nearly 65 year old cruiser. I continued along to the deck and internally panicked as I realized that I was going to have to get off this boat. The SNS Jafar was not made for such an undertaking, nor was it designed to withstand a coal fire! It was designed for icebergs and the like! Heat from a fire was of course going to melt through the steel plating of the hull. Had the Jazein Fleet Command been notified of the impending catastrophe? They were about to watch a 65-year-old ship go to the bottom of the Emerald Ocean. The Jafar was commissioned in 1959. A lot has changed since then. But… would something like this have happened if we had proper regulations? We don’t exactly have any kind of safety regulations for this kind of thing in Sumoriant, much less anywhere else! We were unprepared and forced to combat this with no real way to solve it.
I reached the main deck and ran towards one of my senior officers.
“Sir, do you know what is going on?!” I said in all the shouting and commotion. “Is the ship sinking?”
“Escort yourself to a boat, Lieutenant! We haven’t much time!” the officer shouted.
I nodded and ran along to the nearest lifeboat, but it was jammed full of my fellow soldiers! I looked up and saw helicopters heading towards us.
“This is the United Republic Air Force. Please remain calm and proceed to lifeboats in an orderly and safe fashion. Please remain calm and proceed to lifeboats in an orderly and safe fashion.” the helicopters rang out on their megaphones, repeating over and over again.
“Well… not every day the RAF shows up…” I said to myself.
I continued to the nearest lifeboat. Full again.
I ventured to the other side of the main deck to find a boat. Almost full.
The boats are full. I was too late. I tried to help stragglers and others to the main decks from below, and tried to locate any superior officer - all of them were in the boats.
“Omar?! Is that you?” Major Hakeem shouted above the chaos.
Hakeem?! Had he not gotten to the boats? In any case, a friendly sight.
“Major! You didn’t get on the boats?”
“No, I didn't have time. I’ve been trudging through the nearly flooded lower decks to save people.” Hakeem said, gesturing to his soaked pants. “This isn’t good. Do you know where th’ cap’n is?”
“No.” I said.
“Damn. Is he dying with his ship?” Hakeem said.
“I suppose so. Quickly, we should try to get off the ship. Signal one of the ‘copters above, see if you can get their attention.” I said.
“Sure.” Hakeem said.
I took off towards the lower decks, escorting as many personnel as I could up to the main decks. I probably watched 500 people go past me.
The chaos was unnerving. I looked around and saw running and utter madness. Seems nobody has a clue what is going on.
“Stay back, the lot of you! Stay back!” one person said, firing a rifle into the air, causing personnel to clamor and run around even more violently.
I rushed back up to the deck. Hakeem signaled to me.
“Major! Did you get anything?” I asked.
“No. The ‘copters are here just to make sure we don't die.” Hakeem said.
“What?!” I exclaimed. “Do you have a radio, or something?”
“Yeah.” Hakeem said.
“Let me see it.” I asked.
“Sure.” Hakeem granted.
Hakeem handed me the radio.
“This is Lieutenant Omar Hormuz. Requesting immediate support from the RAF above the SNS Jafar. Please dispatch aid. Over.” I pleaded into the radio.
“We are under strict orders to not drop ladders or any ropes, Lieutenant. Would cause chaos. Over.” a person responded.
“You can't land?” I asked.
“No, sir.” another answered.
“Why not?” I continued.
“Strict orders from the Republican Navy told us not to land.” the first person answered.
“Damn the orders! There are hundreds of people down here who couldn't get to the lifeboats in time! Send down your helicopters!” I shouted into the radio. “If you abandon us, the RAF will have blood on its hands for good! Do you want that?!”
Helicopter above
The person on the other end cut off the radio.
“Should we contact the Navy?” the woman asked.
“Fine… we can ask them for clearance to land. But don't blame me if they're pissed afterwards.” the pilot said.
“Of course…” the woman trailed off, tuning her radio to Navy Command.
“Hello, who is speaking?” the person on the Navy end responded.
“Officer Hamda al-Basa speaking. Requesting clearance for Republican Air Force helicopters to land on the SNS Jafar.”
“I'll patch you through to Naval High Command.” the person answered.
The radio went silent for a moment.
“Hello. General Sirajudeen al-Ammar speaking. We have received your request for clearance to land.”
“Thank you.” Hamda said.
The radio again went silent.
“Mrs. al-Basa, tell your RAF soldiers they have clearance to land.”
“Of course. Over and out.” Hamda said, turning off the radio. “We have clearance. Land this thing and fit as many people as we can. We have room in the back for a few hundred.
“Yeah.” the pilot said, landing on the helipad.
SNS Jafar
The helicopters had… begun to land! I ran with Major Hakeem to one of them and climbed inside the back of the ‘copter. Hundreds of people were clamoring onto the vessel and fleeing the Jafar.
As the ship was evacuating, the other helicopters lowered their ladders and ropes to the lifeboats, lifting their hundreds of soldiers up into the ‘copters. Even still, where was the captain?
Bridge, underwater
The captain held the wheel of the boat. The windows groaned and creaked.
And burst.
In the ‘copters
The SNS Jafar began to sound like a horror movie as its metal bent and convulsed. The helicopters began to fly away…
…and the ammo combusted.
The SNS Jafar erupted in a massive display of fire and explosions, and shattered at the seams.
By the time the smoke and steam cleared, the ship was a carcass of twisted and warped metal. The ship was sinking rapidly. At least the evacuation had gone somewhat smoothly.
Aftermath
In the days that followed the catastrophe that befell the SNS Jafar, President Jazaar al-Hafez made a motion to the National Assembly to form the National Health and Safety Organization, which would act as an advisory body for the implementation of safety regulations nationwide, and prohibit acts such as smoking in interior rooms, while also necessitating the discussion regarding Sumoriant's continued use of coal-powered ships.
I went back to Haijja before redeployment to another ship, and caught up with Major Hakeem. He insisted I just call him Hakeem. I've kept in contact with him since then.
Overall, the SNS Jafar was a catastrophe of the modern Sumori Armed Forces. President al-Hafez was humiliated by the sheer mismanagement of the affair, but assured the Sumori populace that such an action could never happen again after the sheer devastation such an event caused.
Not everyone made it out of the ship, however. In total, approximately 480 casualties were verified, with 370 dead, 30 wounded, and the rest missing.
The sinking of the SNS Jafar will go down as one of the worst events in the military history of Sumoriant, and will serve as a permanent scar on the Sumori Republican Navy…
The Ordnance Officer hurriedly climbs through the network of catwalks and tunnels down the fuselage of the bomber. He lays down on a metal sled, and rolls himself through a long dark tunnel, which brings him to the tail section through the bomb bay.
As he reaches the tail section, he looks out the waist window, checking all around for any sign of a small aircraft. He sees the other 4 bombers flying in formation behind him. Once again, he hears over a small radio terminal in the wall, “Grim Reaper 1, this is Grim Reaper 3. You have an unidentified light aircraft off your tail, I need visual confirmation. How copy? Over.”
He grabs the 2 audio cords from his wire headset and plugs them into the radio terminal. He pulls the microphone closer to his mouth, “This is Grim Reaper 1. I copy, light aircraft off my tail. I am awaiting to visually confirm. Over.”
The officer unplugs his headset and continues moving through the cramped space. Finally, he reaches the tail gunner. The gunner looks back at him with a look of confusion, “Are you seein’ what I'm seein’?”
The officer leans over to look through the gunner's window, “Yeah, I am.”
He immediately turns back around and moves towards the nose section of the bomber.
When he reaches the cockpit, he plugs into the radio terminal next to the bombardier, “This is Grim Reaper Actual to Grim Reaper Squadron. I can confirm unidentified light aircraft off my tail. Squadron, prepare your defensive armaments, wait for my command to fire. I say again, wait for my command until you fire. Over.”
The pilot looks back at the ordnance officer, “Hey, I'm gonna send out a radio call.”
With a nod, the officer walks away to go talk to the engineer. The pilot turns the frequency dial on the cabin radio set, then keys his mic, “Attention unidentified aircraft, this is Grim Reaper Squadron of the Imperial Emnarian Air Corps. You are flying dangerously close to our formation. Please distance and identify yourself. I say again, please distance and identify yourself. Over.”
Just as he says that, two hatches on the roof of the bombers fold in. Taking their place, two turrets, each armed with dual 20mm autocannons, are hydraulically lifted into place atop the fuselage. The engineers prime the targeting computers, inserting the vacuum tube trays into their carrying slots. After a few moments, as the analog computers start, the turrets come alive, the ordnance officer of each bomber climbs into his observation window, grabbing the turret control stick.
The pilot radios to the ENS Victory, “This is Grim Reaper 1 Actual of the 80th Bombardment Group. I need a fighter escort ASAP. I say again, I need a fighter escort ASAP. I have unidentified intercepting aircraft on my tail, no shots fired. Over.”
ENS Victory, Northern Tsyemny Sea, Verusa
The deck crew scramble to their positions. Fighter jets taxi to the catapults. The flight deck is consumed by a frantic rush. 3 minutes. They have 3 minutes to get aircraft in the air. The fighter squadron on EWR duty is the 12th Carrier Fighter Squadron.
As soon as the jet gets hooked up to the catapult, the deck crew sprint away. With a salute, the deck flight control officer gives a thumbs up to the launch controller in his control cupola. The pilot salutes the launch controller.
The pilot puts the engines into full afterburner and lets go of the stick. He salutes the launch controller, and a moment later, the jet violently rocks as it rapidly accelerates off the flight deck.
In 12 minutes they launch 8 fighter jets. All flying at Mach 2, full wing sweep. Every second they waste is another second those bomber crews could be dead.
The flight leader, Captain Nathan Stevens, radios to the bomber squadron, “This is Raptor Actual to Grim Reaper Actual. We are inbound, ETA 7 minutes. Over.”
Inside the bombers, they all wait, watching the aircraft. Waiting to see what it does. Praying their escorts get there fast…
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
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