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| QUOTE | | [OOC: I've wanted this island ever since Aquiliana stopped RPing, as its the exact same shape of the land Starblaydia was in it's previous region. Unfortunately to get it I'll probably have to drop my IC objections to Sarz and HC expanding, otherwise I won't get the moral high ground I'm looking for. So, here we go...] |
Sitting on his balcony enjoying the Starblaydi afternoon sun was more difficult for Lord-Protector Tiberius Starblayde than you might think. Even in Starblaydia, there were people who waned to kill him, so his Venators and other members of the Lord-Protector's Security Detail had fits every time he opened the window - to no effect, of course, as a combination of healthy fake-democracy and airtight security leaves Tiberius completely secure.
So here he was, on the balcony of his palatial home in Starblaydia's captial, Jhanna, when the mini-computer in his trousers pocket bleeped at him urgently. Tiberius sighed and put down his iced drink, fumbling at his pocket to retrieve the computer that he used as nothing more than an extravagant bleeper. Finding his pocket too tight to get more than his fingertips in while sitting down, Tiberius stood up and got to it that way. He pulled out the computer and tapped a button.
"No -explicitive removed-," he said to himself, tappng the button to read it.
| CODE | FROM: Isaac
Turn on Channel 6, you'll like this. |
Tiberius frowned and strode through the double-doors that led back to his office. Unknown to him, one of his suited Security Detail said something into a hidden mic. Tiberius picked up the remote control and bashed the '6' button.
"...we can take you back now, live, to our reporter in Nidola, Aquiliana. Nancy, what can you tell us?"
Tiberius dropped the remote. The ticker sliding across the bottom of the screen read something he'd wanted for a long time, something his father had wanted, even:
| CODE | | Aquillianian Government Collapses - Ductor (Elected-Leader) and most Vicarais (State Representatives) missing - Future Uncertain - Collapse may be linked to other nations ceasing to exist |
Dropping a remote control onto the carpet for no apparent reason did alert the security officer, but the situation was soon rectified by the smiling ebony face of Lord Isaac Chisoko opening the door and stepping through.
"That land." Tiberius said, wide-eyed, "could be ours?"
"Only a matter of months, my Lord," Isaac said, "the arrangements can be made immediately, the plan will be put into action once you have given the order."
"It is given." Tiberius stared at the TV for a moment. "Can we do this and still rip into Sarzonia over their desires to envelop Chacor?"
Isaac admired the young man at that moment, despite a long-held ambition of the Starblaydi state seemingly within his grasp, he still found the time - and had the inclination - to think of the wider picture.
"We can still wag our fingers at them because they're enveloping a nation they've had a border dispute and near-war with so recently, but other than that, not really. And, before you ask, we won't be able to stop Hockey Canada's expansion to our borders and the Bekk either."
"-explicitive removed-." Tiberius sighed. "Can't have everything. We've got an army, right?"
"Last time I checked."
"Reinforce the border with Hockey Canada, then," Tiberius retrieved the remote and tossed it, clattering onto the table, "and get some ships in between Aquiliana and... everyone except us. Send over some police units, and I mean police. Italian-speakers especially, as they've got a few over there. We're not invading, remember? We're a great big powerful nation helping out some locals. The Starblaydi citizenship comes later."
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"-ots, but Starblaydi police officers have been sent from the mainland to help restore order to a collapsing nation. This is Janine Powell, KBS News, in what's left of Nidola."
"Our main story again; anarchy has spread through the island nation of Aquili-"
Chairman Andrew Hessenthaler turned off the television and pondered. Starblaydi police? What were Starblaydi police doing in Aquiliana? His mind wandered back a few short years, and the Krytenian Army's "policing" of Nova Mercia. Could that old dog Tiberius be landgrabbing?
His reverie was broken by the sound of the telephone. the call ID read "FOR/DEF" - Chairman Hessenthaler immediately knew who it was. He picked up the receiver.
"Hello Jonathan."
Jonathan Derea, Foreign and Defence Minister, was in his office looking somewhat agitated. The recon satellite, Bluebird Four, had picked up something interesting going on in the straits between Calania and Aquiliana.
"Thought you may want to see these pictures, Hess. I'm e-mailing you them now."
The Chairman grunted an acknowledgement and replaced the receiver. He hated it when anyone called him Hess.
"Hmm...these pictures...seems to be some sort of...naval blockade. Right, time to see what El Lord-Protectore is up to."
With that, he picked up a purple telephone marked "Tiberius (Jhanna, STB)" and hit the button that immediately dialled the Starblaydi Lord-Protector's place of residence. |
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Krytenia |
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Now With Added Bekk! |
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Out on the balcony again, enjoying the sunshine even more than before thanks to the events over the Nemyan Straight, Tiberius sipped at his iced drink which now had a touch of celebratory Orcinus vodka in it. Beside him on the balcony, sitting quietly to themselves, were his mini-computer and a mobile phone resting on the table with his glass. He always got excellent reception, of course.
The mobile began to ring, that was important. Only calls from other leaders and his Generals would be forwarded through the phone system to this phone. With the powers of ring-tones, too, he knew exactly who it would be on the other end. In polyphonic tones the tune was quite easy on the ears, though had the words to the tune been added, you would have heard the following song:
| QUOTE | Its cold outside, there's no kind of atmosphere,
I'm all alone, more or less.
Let me fly, far away from here,
Fun, fun, fun, in the sun, sun, sun. |
Tiberius picked up the mobile and clicked the button with the picture of the little green phone on it. "Andy, old boy, how's it going?"
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"ck! Why would Starblaydia just leave their borders of the land to the south of us? Something is up."
Air Marshall of the Hockey Canadian Air Force, Igor Janazak stared out the window listening to reports come in from the news that a Hockey Canadian recon plane had spotted a large fleet of ships in the Nemyan Strait. Snow was lightly falling outside as he saw planes come in and out from all over Atlantian Oceania to view progress in different countries or any danger. Looking to the south, Janazak glanced at the southern hedge of the Irkutsk Mountains (a mountain range that protectes Hockey Canada's border). Beyond that were nothing but cold, abandoned cities and the mighty Lake Bekk.
"... reports that the fleet is massive. Heading towards Aquiliana..."
"Looks like it's time to shine down south." Janazak smiled. |
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[OOC: HC, I've actually strengthened my side of the border with Land 12, but have no actual presence in L12 at all.]
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"Hey Tiberius. Just seen the news, and thought I'd let you know, you need any advice on riot control, repatriation, that sort of thing, you just have to ask. We did some similar work down here you know.
Oh, and when are 'The Boys' meeting up again? There's nothing lige a good old-fashioned booze up. Except maybe a booze-up and power trip..." |
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Krytenia |
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Now With Added Bekk! |
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Posts: 661 |
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"Oh we have enough riot police to handle a small FIFA puppet nation," Tiberius chuckled, "so a little island full of Romans won't pose any problems."
"Well we can do both boozing and power-tripping, as my good friend Armando Gomez has just finished kitting out something that matches those options precisely. All yourself, Adonis and the rest need to do is turn up in Bisarley and we can all chill out and have some beers. And vodkas. Whiskeys. Ecetera." |
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Antoine stepped down the stairs leading from his modest plane, lugging along a crate of what appeared to be Abattoirian whiskey. He wouldn't allow the whiskey to be placed in the storage compartment of the plane, his reason becoming clear when noticing a bottle missing from its place.
He scanned around the area looking for Tiberius and his car in the Starblaydi city. |
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The doors opened and two ranks of black clad guardsmen filed into the room. They stopped and in perfect unison each guardsmen did a ninety degree turn. With each man now facing inwards a guard of honour was formed for whoever were to enter the room next. Titus Drax, formally President but now newly declared Autokrator of Hypocria, entered. He was feeling unstoppable, never had his power been so absolute, and he wanted to make a grand entrance. Dressed in a military style black uniform with silver facings he advanced between the twin rows of his guardsmen until he reached the centre of the room. He faced the other leaders, their faces showed expressions of shock and awe just as he had envisioned. He clicked his fingers and a servant scuttled over with a tray of drinks. The servant lent forward to speak,
“Can I take your nuts excellency?”
“What?”
The Autokrator jolted upright in his seat. The servant was gone, replaced by the face of Caroline, the flight attendant on his private jet. He must have dozed off.
“Your peanuts excellency”, she gestured to the table in front of him. “If you’ve finished with them I can take them away for you.”
“What? Oh yes. Yes”, he said as all his senses gradually kicking back into action.
The attendant disappeared to be replaced by the figure of Elena Cervantes, his Chief of Staff. And what a figure it was.
“Excellency, we are about to enter Starblaydi airspace. You said you wanted to be informed.”
“Thank you Elena.”
He gazed out the window. The land he saw below was a welcome change from the waters of the Crystilakere Channel that had provided the view for the majority of the flight.
“Bring me the files on the other leaders”, he said to his Chief of Staff. “I want to know exactly who I’m talking to. It wouldn’t do to confuse President Tariskany with Emperor Brakiss would it?”
“As you command Excellency.”
“And Elena.”
“Excellency?”
“Take a note. No more peanuts on these flights.”
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Adonis stepped down from the jet, lacking the usual parade of escorts and guards. Dark circles that were once barely noticeable under his eyes were gaining prominence in his once immaculate physique. A scar was visible on his hand, a sign of the decreasing abilities of his enemies and their aim. He was getting very tired of the tedious happenings that made up domestic politics and the occasional 'rebellions for democracy' that were more easily quelled than the staged attacks he planned.
His temperament seemed to brighten as he saw the Starblaydian envoy driving up to meet him. He noticed a diplomat exit one of the vehicles holding a highball glass. He let out a deep sigh and began a slow, deliberate walk towards the ambassador, trying his best to conceal his glee at the sight of the alcohol thoughts of the great time he would have at the meeting. He understood that there were 'important' events to discuss, but that never stopped him from enjoying himself before.
"Ah, it's good to be back." He uttered the words to no one in particular, but from the smile of the diplomat, it appeared he had a willing audience.
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Punch-Drunk Psychosis |
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The Hockey Canadian government was getting impatient. Starblaydia slowly inching their way into Aquiliana with not much getting in their way. The Starblaydi border of Land 12 was the same as ever- strong, but non existant in the actual land. People were turning their gaze away from Lake Bekk giving the Hockey Canadians a chance to move in on the snowy, mountainous lands south of them. Confident that the advance into Land 12 would be a success, the Air force had already headed into the air space as well as land forces massing on the Hockey Canadian border. This was going to be huge.
"Belanuk, this is TC-14 reporting from 35,000 feet above landfall."
"TC-14, this is Belanuk reporting. Do you have a visual on any life?"
"Negative Belanuk, I don't see anyth- wait a minute..."
"TC-14, do you have a visual?"
"I have a visual on a somewhat wreckage of a plane... but it doesn't look like anything I've seen before."
"What do you mean by this?"
"I mean that this plane has blue and red paint. A propeller-like device is on the back, as if to push the plane forward."
"I'm shooting some photos from the front of your plane TC-14. Keep your present course until I give the signal."
"Yes sir."
10 minutes pass.
"TC-14, we have photos. Keep your present course for more signs of habitation."
"Sir, not wishing to argue, but it is a little odd that a plane would just crash back there in the mountanious area."
"Yes TC-14, we'll have intel on ti right away."
"Belanuk, I think I have a visual on a habitation. Weapons and other arms are down there, should I engage?"
"Negative TC-14, maintain present course without instigating aggression."
"Belanuk, I have been fired upon. Request to return fire?"
"Negative TC-14, return home immediately. Now that we know there are still some somewhat nomadic people down there, this may complicate things. Especially since they displayed they have arms- however limited."
"Yes sir." |
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In the back of his sky-blue limousine, Chairman Andrew Hessenthaler was cogitating the events of the previous few days. After his rather mandatory attendance at the World Cup Final (It hurt to hand over the trophy after that goddamn semi, he thought), he had flown to the Druidan city of Moorestown to meet the Krytenian football team and celebrate with them. One bar crawl later, and Andrew had drunk the entire squad under the table. One of the wonders of drinking vodka on a highly regular basis is that even Bessburg's finest ales seem like soft drinks to the Chairman. Still, drinking that many is going to leave you still a bit tipsy in the morning. He had decided to drive, or rather be driven, the rest of the way to Bisarley, a plane trip possibly too much for his currently delicate stomach (Andrew was not the bast of fliers anyway).
His reverie was broken as the car stopped. They had reached the Starblaydi border. A border guard on the Starblaydi side stepped to the car.
"Passports please."
Andrew opened a window, and handed over his passport. His driver did the same. The other guard, a tall, blonde lady with curves so hot you could cook bacon on them, peered inside.
"David, we can't let this one through."
"Why not?"
"He's half cut, and the edict was clear. No Druidan drunks to be let into the country!"
"But he's -"
"I don't care if he's a personal friend of Tiberius Starblayde himself, the law's the law!"
David, the male guard, snatched the passport.
"This is a personal friend of the Lord-Protector. Is this a Druidan passport? No. Now, place of birth...Secklow, Krytenia. Name...Andrew Kenneth Hessenthaler. It's-the-leader-of-bloody-Krytenia-you ditz." He passed back the passports and waved the car on.
Different country, same old dumb blondes, Andrew thought. |
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Krytenia |
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Now With Added Bekk! |
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Posts: 661 |
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At the dockyards in Bisarley, Kal Lightbourne waited anxiously. As Orcinus' Chief Marketing Manager he was the first stage in the Lord Starblayde's surprise. So far a number of cars had pulled up, and the Krytie Chairman's was too obvious to miss. Five, in total, had arrived within minutes of each other, and five of the most-important leaders in Atlantian Oceania stepped out.
Abattoir's President Antoine Tariskany was first to step out of his vehicle, though last to actually make it over to Kal's position. He looked to be carrying a crate of - ah yes - Whiskey. As if where they were going needed any more alcohol. Autokrator Titus Drax, of Hypocria, came next wiping some peanut crumbs from his suit. He was new to this little get-together, not that that would make much difference. All he had to do was be sober enough to sign the Lavingrad Pact at some point and the Strategic Alliance would expand.
Emperor Brakiss of Nokjika was there too, making his first public appearance in many years, while Chairman Andrew Hessenthaler half-fell out of his sky-blue car before coming over.
"Distinguished guests of old an new," Kal began, "My Lords, Mister Presidents, Chairmen, Autokrators and Imperial Highnesses, the Lord-Protector awaits you just the other side of this large building on the docks beside me."
The large building was, in fact, an enormous covered construction bay for submarines and the like, but for today's purposes it was simply a curtain to prevent them from seeing the surprise.
"We had you fly into Phraen airport and come by car to this location for a reason, my Lords," Kal continued, he wasn't a Marketing Manager for nothing, "to prevent you from spoiling Lord Starblayde's surprise. If you will follow me, please. Mister President," he said, gesturing to Tariskany, "we can have someone take that for you."
A lowly female naval officer came and took the crate from Antoine, though not before he'd taken another bottle.
Slowly as they came around the building the Nemyan Straight came into view. Ships around the dockyard - both Naval and otherwise - were moving around, some on operations to secure Aquiliana and others detailed for Lord-Protector Starblayde's purposes for today.
Slowly an awesome ship was revealed to them.
"Gentlemen," Kal said, "may I present the Orca-Class Partyship!"
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Adonis' mouth fell agape as he viewed the luxurious ship. He began to fumble in his pocket, and after a moment withdrew a silven pen-like device with a red button. He placed his thumb on the button and drew it up towards his face.
Three Venators noticed the movement, and began maneuvering into alert positions. The had encircled the President, and one of the men withdrew a pistol.
Adonis clicked the button. "Note to self: See if we can do any creative budgeting and get one of these bad-boys for the palace staff. Talk to Tiberius and try to make it happen."
He clicked the button again and replaced the mini-recorder in his pocket. The alerted Venators resumed their normal positions. Adonis again reached into his pocket, took out an airplane bottle of Orcinus Vodka, took a quick drink, and began listening to Lightbourne explain the intricacies of the ship. |
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Punch-Drunk Psychosis |
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